College could be a harsh mistress, be it one of the Big Schools like Yale or Harvard or a simple local community college. Most of the time it wasn't a big deal to have half a dozen homework assignments a night, and term papers weren't that bad once one got the hang of them.

But when they piled on the assignments during midterms, Henry couldn't help but wonder if the professors were closet sadists. It was half past one and keeping his eyes open had become a challenge equal to that of his last few trig problems; he stifled a yawn and reached for his coffee cup only to remember he'd drained it half an hour ago.

"Gotta finish," he muttered, but his head felt heavy and the numbers were growing blurry...maybe if he closed his eyes for a second, just to rest...visions of past cases and capers filled his head, Stanley's antics, running from creeps in masks.

Henry...

"Stanley, I told you not to touch anything," he muttered.

"Henry." The voice was more insistent this time, and Henry realized he wasn't alone. He lifted his head and opened his eyes to see Stanley, standing there with a steaming mug in his hand and a blanket draped over his shoulder. He could have laughed if he wasn't so exhausted.

"Stanley?"

"Here, I brought you some more coffee. I had a feeling you might've fallen asleep in here," Stanley said, holding out the mug. "And here's a blanket, it's a little cold tonight. Boy, you're really burning the candle at both ends!"

Henry couldn't help but smile. It was things like this that reminded him of what a good guy his brother was, trouble-causing antics aside.

"Thanks," he said quietly, taking the warm drink from his brother's hands and sipping gratefully. "I should be done soon, there's only a few problems left. Good thing it's a weekend."

"Or you'd be in a jam," Stanley chuckled, draping the blanket over Henry's shoulders. Henry nodded, setting the mug down beside the empty one.

"Thanks again. Now go to sleep, no sense in you being exhausted tomorrow on my behalf," he said.

"Okay. Goodnight, Henry."

"'night, Stan." He picked up his pencil and resumed his work. Though not quite fully re-energized, he no longer felt ready to pass out and that was more than enough.