Marcus sat against the headboard, his right hand wrapped in plaster and pins. The painkillers slurred his words as he tried to dictate his college essay. "Say I learned grit from football," he mumbled, then drifted off mid-sentence. Theo sat at the laptop, the cursor blinking. The deadline was midnight. His brother couldn't type a single word, so Theo would have to do it for him.

Theo shook Marcus awake. "I can't write this for you. It's your college, your future." Marcus blinked, foggy and slow. "Just finish it, please. I trust you." Then he was out again. Theo sat there, stuck between waking him a second time and just doing it himself.

Theo decided not to wake Marcus again. He'd write a draft, save it, and let his brother approve every word in the morning. He typed carefully, trying to sound like Marcus and not like himself. The cursor finally stopped blinking and started moving.

In the morning Marcus read Theo's draft and barely changed a thing. "This sounds more like me than I do," he admitted. They submitted it together. Weeks later the acceptance arrived, and Marcus made sure the whole family knew Theo had typed every word.