Blood pounding in my ears, feels as though there is a marching band, in my head, spurring me on. I feel my lungs burn as they desperately grasp for the oxygen I'm denying them. My muscles are made of lead, weighing me down, betraying me. Twigs and braches feel like knives on my face, getting tangled in long chocolate brown hair. Deans always telling me to cut it . Rain begins to fall, icy bullets falling with speed, hitting their target, my skinny frame is damp. My clothes sticking to me, the rain and sweat forming a glue, suffocating me.
I want to stop running, give into my body's needs and rest, I can't. He won't have stopped, he will still try to find me. Like a great white to blood; he won't rest until he has me.
My foot connects with a large, hard tree stump. I curse my newfound gangly legs, they had grown over the summer, I was almost as tall as Dean now as much as he hated it. A jolt of white, hot pain seized my leg. It buckled beneath me. I try to get up but it won't support me. I curse my useless lump of muscle because of it I'll lose.
I hobble towards a tall, large, grand father tree, I can hear him inside my head laughing at me. I shake my head as though it were an Etch 'a' Sketch, I was going to hear him in a few moments anyway. I curse my useless limb as the feeling comes back, sending ferocious pins and needles up it.
Like between an eagle and a mouse this isn't a fair chase. I can feel his sharp eyes seek me out and he is in front of me, just one person, creating a wall of shame. His shit eating grin was what I saw first, revealing rows of pearly white teeth, his hazel eyes bright. A droplet of rain dipped from the tip of his dirty blond, military style hair and down along his nose before falling to the ground. He chuckled.
"Wow Sammy, 5 minutes. Impressive"
"Shut up Dean. I'm 13 not 3! I don't want to play these kids games. Dad only told us to do this so we would be out of the way" I moaned.
"Don't be such a sore loser Sammy." He smirked, before his face turned serious. "Dad told us to this Sam, he wouldn't have if it wasn't important. You know he doesn't want us to stand and fight yet, we would distract him. Well I wouldn't, I could help. Near perfect aim" He pointed at himself before making a gun with his thumb and first to fingers and pretending to shoot something in the distance, I rolled my eyes. "You however, never practice, your nose is always buried in those books. So, until you can fight you have to learn to run. That's the whole point of this Sam, that's why we do this, because this 'little game' won't be so little anymore when it's a matter of life and death."
"But this isn't right, we shouldn't have to deal with this!"
"Well we do Sam, deal with it" His face broke into a smile.
"Now lets see if we can make it 6 minutes this time huh?"
"Deaan…"
He ignored me.
He began counting, "1..2..3.…"
I began to run, I looked back just for a second to make sure his eyes where closed when WHAM! My head collided with the very, rough, hard bark of a tree. I let out a yelp as I came crashing down to the floor. I felt as well as hear the dead leaves rustle before seeing Deans head leaning over me his face full of concern. I could feel something hot ans tickly drip down my temple.
After deciding it was okay, Dean helped me to my feet.
"The things you'll do to get out of training huh?" Dean smirked.
"I'm not purposely going against you and dad you know Dean. I just wish I could be normal. I wish I could know what that was like." I looked at my feet and how the dead leaves crunches beneath them, leaving them in bits.
"I know Sammy, I know" Looking down at his little brother, Dean really did understand, he wished he could be normal too. He wished he could have the life he wanted full of girls and a home. But he wished Sammy could have it more. At that moment he vowed to work twice as hard so Sam wouldn't have to.