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Can't Run From Love

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“Sam,” Dean murmured, walking as if he were stepping over broken glass. John was already passed out on the couch and it wasn't even ten o'clock yet. “Sammy, go to bed.”

“You going out?” Sam asked, shutting his notebook, and standing up.

“I don’t go out, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam.”

“I know,” said Dean as he walked out of  the living room, Sam following quietly behind him.

As soon as the door to their shared bedroom was shut tightly, Sam started up. “Then why do you - nevermind. Look, you should get out more. I can survive a few hours on my own with him. He’s passed out half the time, anyway.” Sam glanced at the clock on the table as Dean flopped down on his bed.

“It’s not even that, alright? I’m not good at...you know. Being out. But, hey, how’s it going between you and that Jess girl?”

Sam sighed as he crawled under the blankets.“We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you. So what about Lisa? You liked her,” Sam said  while situating himself and his pillow.

Dean got up and walked over to flip the lights off. “Yeah, well, I like a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I want them.”

Dean slipped off his jeans and flopped down onto the bed, wriggling  under the covers. They lay in silence for a few moments before Sam’s voice broke the silence.

“There’s a track meet tomorrow. You should come with me.”

“Sam-” Dean started to protest before Sam interrupted him.

“I’m serious. It would do you good to get out once and a while. It’s just a track meet. It’ll be fun.”

Dean sighed loudly. “Sammy, you know I don’t like jocks. All they do is grunt and try to look all attractive in front of the cheerleaders.”

“Aw, come on, Dean. Just once. You really need to get out of the house.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, Dean. I’ll even do your laundry for a week!”

Dean paused at this. “Two weeks,” he bargained.

“Deal!” Sam said excitedly, and Dean almost instantly regretted his decision.

“Just go to sleep, Sam,” Dean grumbled, before rolling onto his side and falling into an uneasy sleep.

 

Dean wanted no part in this sport. It was stupid, gross, and honestly? A little girly, in his opinion. But Sam was - well, Sam - and he could never turn him down. And that's why Dean was standing outside in fucking ninety degree weather watching people run around in circles.

"Look," he started. "It's just...I dunno. I don't see what's so great about running around a stupid track all day."

"First off, it's not stupid, alright? And second, I don't care what you think about the sport. That's not why you're here." Oh. Great, Dean thought miserably. This was a set-up. Sam was going to bring some young, pretty little thing so Dean could “socialize” and shit.

"Sam," a deep, almost startling voice murmured. It must have came from the fucking shadow realm because Dean hadn’t even seen the owner of the voice approach.

"M'coming, Cas. Just a sec." Sam turned back to Dean cautiously, stareing the older Winchester right in the eyes. "Go. Sit. And don't eat my gummy bears."

Dean chuckled as he turned to walk over to the bleachers, where he plopped down on the cold - wait, no - wet metal benches. “What the… gatorade, that’s gatorade,” he murmured to himself, cursing his awesome luck.

Stupid running, stupid track meets, stupid gummy bears. Stupid everything.

He watched as Sam walked away with another boy with jet black hair and really muscled thighs. Who the hell was that?

 

Half an hour and most of the bag of gummy bears later, Sam had still not returned. Dean sighed loudly, and leaned back, feeling the metal bench dig into his back uncomfortably. The hurdle races were just about to start, and Dean was getting bored of the entire ordeal.

He watched as the racers lined up at the starting line, and he ran his eyes over the faces. The dark-haired boy from before wasn’t among them. Dean had been watching for him, but he hadn’t been in any of the races so far.

"Runners to starting positions", and Dean watched as the microscopic crowd sitting around him leaned forward in anticipation.

A few seconds later, the gunshot sounded and the racers darted forward.

Dean watched, fascinated, as the runners leapt over each hurdle. They had such grace, much as Dean was loathe to admit it. It was like they flew over each bar. One, and then another, and then another.

One runner in particular caught Dean’s eye. His form was better than the others, and he was always a bit farther ahead than the rest. He was almost to the end, and Dean was sure that the boy was going to win, when the unimaginable happened. The boy's foot snagged on the top of the hurdle, and the boy tumbled -  hard.

Everyone around him gasped. A few stood up, hands over their mouths, eyes wide. Dean waited for the boy to stand up, to let everyone know he was okay, but it never happened. He stayed down, clutching his leg.

The kid looked hurt. Like, hospital, stitches, probably-at-least-two-broken-bones hurt, but he could be wrong, considering he was not at a good distance to judge. Dean grimaced at the thought of that happening to Sammy.

"Shit," he murmurs, "is somebody gonna help the poor kid?" A few of the runners ignored it--assholes--but a few stopped completely.

"Oh my god!" Someone yells from the crowd.

"God isn't going to help him, you idiot. Is anybody a doctor, or an EMT or something? It can't be that bad," A girl's voice says, ruling over everyone else's. A few people finally walk down from the bleachers to assist the guy. If only Dean knew who the hell it was. He could barely see through the crowd of people circling the injured runner. And what with the sun beaming down on everyone and everything, he wishes he had brought sunglasses.

"Gross," he says, sticking his hand into the bag of now melted gummy bears. "Oh, that's disgusting." Red, green and yellow dye sticks to his hand.

"Napkin?" Someone behind him says.

"Yeah, tha-" he pauses, turning to see who it is. "Jo? What the hell are you doing here?!" He asks, reaching for a hug.

"No hugs until you get that crap off your hands. Those are for Sam, you know, the gummy bears."

"I'll get him some more."

"He's still gonna be pissed," she tells him, grabbing a napkin and pouring some water on it from the bottle sitting beside her.

"Thanks, but he left to do his nerd thing at the library so it doesn't actually matter.” By that point the stretcher had arrived and they were loading the kid into the ambulance.

“Wow that’s gonna hurt in the morning” Jo laughed stiffly, and Dean along with her.

“Poor kid.”