Fic: 7 Miles In (SPN RPF)
A quick little story inspired by Jason Manns instagram post and Jensen's recent sickness at Vancon.
7 Miles In
Mile 1
Jensen set off running alongside Jason, training for their marathon. Bad Idea Tour, Jensen thought, trying not to chuckle. It was a bad idea. But this was the best shape he’d ever been in and that had to count for something. Of course, doing it for charity counted the most, otherwise he’d still probably be in bed.
Jensen wasn’t feeling fantastic. He’d worked all night Thursday and hadn’t seemed to be able to catch up on sleep. That and he was just run down. The yearly Supernatural flu was making a sweep through the crew. It hadn’t made it to the cast just yet, but Jensen was starting to feel like he was going to go down first.
He was still a few paces in front of Manns though, and it was just the tiredness that was getting to him. The plan was to do 14 miles. He could make 14.
Mile 2
Jensen shook loose a cough into his wrist, his throat starting to air on the tight side. He sniffed in the cool Canadian wind, giving his head a slight shake.
“Hey,” Jason puffed next to him, “Y’alright?”
Jensen cleared his throat, straightened out his back and lengthened his stride.
“Yeah, man.”
Mile 3
This wasn’t normally how his runs went. Three miles was a warm up, it shouldn’t have been as exhausting as it was. His leg muscles were doing a weird crampy thing and it was all he could do just to keep pace with Jason. He crumpled into his elbow crease and sneezed, feeling the pull on his now very tender throat. He’d lost even more distance between Jason and himself.
Well, crap.
Mile 4
“Dude,” Jason had dropped back and they were running side by side again, “Sure you’re okay?”
Jensen huffed and puffed, feeling a prickly warmth spreading over his head, a few stray stars darted across his vision, “Yeah,” the word came out on a breath, sounding far away, “I’m good.”
“We can stop?” Jason offered.
Jensen smirked, cut off a cough that threatened to emerge, “Nice try.”
Mile 5
“Hang on,” Jensen mumbled, mouth open, head tilted upwards.
He dropped his pace back to a jog and whipped two sneezes into his elbow. He coughed at the force of them. His sneezes were always… violent.
Jason belatedly got the message and met him in the aftermath.
“Bless you?” he offered, curiously.
“Thanks,” Jensen breathed, hitting his stride again.
“Jay…”
“Get the lead out,” Jensen interrupted.
Mile 6
“You’re sick,” Jason said, voice halting and breathless from the effort.
“Yeah,” Jensen admitted, smothering a cough in his wrist.
“So… you wanna call this a day, or?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Mile 7
“Jensen, man, look at me.”
“... Huh?”
Jensen registered a sharp sting in both his knees. His mind was a cloud and his vision wasn’t much better. Jason’s face was blurry and abstract above him. The too blue sky was his whole field of vision and that meant he had to be looking up. He felt the tiny, incessant jabs from the gravel under his back.
“Jensen, hey. You alright? You just collapsed, man.”
“Whym’i- dointheground?” he slurred, trying to push himself up.
Jason carefully guided him onto his side as he coughed.
“Cut your knees up pretty bad. And you have got one heck of a fever, my friend.”
“Fever?”
“Yeah, come on. Let’s get a cab. Dude, you’re lucky I was here and you weren’t out by yourself. You should have stopped.”
Jensen just sneezed, “How far did we make it?”
Jason glanced over his shoulder and helped Jensen stand, “Seven miles.”
Jensen shrugged, “Halfway ain’t bad.”
End.