A/N: This has been sitting in my folder for waaaay to long. It's been collecting dust for over well over a year now, so I decided to post it.

The Marathon

Honestly, it wasn't Gabriel's fault that Nick was such a worry-wart.

So what, he had gone jogging at five in the morning. It wasn't like he had never done it before. He liked to get up early, before sunrise, to just run, he had been doing it since he was – and all his other brothers – knew that.

His twin hadn't needed to chuck a fit when he woke and found that Gabriel wasn't there.

Although, it had been weeks since he had actually gone jogging in the mornings – or gone jogging at all, for that matter. Ever since Michael had lost custody, and he, Nick, and Chris had been staying at Hannah's parent's house, he hadn't had much energy to do anything. So maybe Nick's overreacting was reasonable.

But still.

After he had gotten back, sat through a lecture from both Nick and Hannah, and returned the ice-cold stares Chris was sending his way, he had tried to hole up in his room. Tried being the keyword there. The only fault in that plan was that he and Nick were sharing a room.

He couldn't exactly lock his brother out of his own room (even though he was so tempted to try), so now he lay sprawled on his bed while his twin sat opposite him, glowering. Nick didn't try to talk to him though, but maybe that was just because Gabriel couldn't hear him. He was plugged into his headphones, letting The Offspring's Self Esteem blast his ear drums apart.

Nick eventually caught his attention by throwing socks at him.

Finally ripping his headphones off, Gabriel caught an oncoming sock, and flung it back at his brother. 'Really? Freaking socks?'

'At least they're clean,' muttered Nick, not looking sympathetic at all.

'Soon they'll be charred.'

'They better bloody not be!' Nick sat up a little straighter. 'First, no setting fires in here – like the Faulkners will want to have burnt carpet. And secondly, these are about the only socks we have. If you burn any, you're the one going without.'

'Whatever,' Gabriel slumped back into the bed, eyeing his headphones. Maybe if he put them back on, Nick would get the message and leave him alone.

'Don't you dare put those headphones back on.'

Or not.

'Then what, Nick? Say what you want and then leave.'

Nick sighed. 'You just disappeared this morning. I woke up and you weren't there. What was I supposed to think?'

'That I was out running? You know that I go in the mornings. I have been for years, Nicky.'

His twin wasn't backing down, sitting up a bit straighter. 'You haven't been jogging for weeks. Jesus, Gabriel, you've barely had the energy to walk over to the phone to call for freaking pizza. You've been acting like that for weeks, and then you suddenly get up at five to go jogging? How was I not supposed to worry?'

'I haven't been moping around for weeks.'

'Yes, you have. Ever since Hunter-' he stopped suddenly, snapping his mouth shut.

Gabriel gave him a cold look, sitting up. 'Christ! I'm not some little girl. Ever since he died. I get it!'

'I know you do,' Nick said softly. 'It's okay to be upset about. You don't have to act like you don't care.'

'I'm not acting like I don't care.'

'You're acting like nothing's happened! You're not trying to move on, you're trying to just ignore what you're-'

'You don't know what I'm trying to do.'

Nick dragged a hand down his face. 'God. You're impossible, Gabriel. What are you trying to do then? Why would you suddenly get up before freaking dawn to go running when you haven't in ages?'

Gabriel just looked at him. 'Because I promised.'

'What?'

'I promised him, and, like you said, I've been slacking off the past few weeks, and I need to get into shape.'

'Gabriel, I… what?'

Poor Nicky sounds confused, Gabriel thought. Returning his gaze to the ceiling, he sneered. 'Ever heard of the Marine Corps marathon, brother?'

Now Nick sounded really confused. 'Marine Corps marathon? I've heard about on the TV and that… isn't it on in a few weeks?'

'Yes, it's on in a few weeks.' He had only remembered that little fact around midnight last night. Sleep had already been hard to come by, but after that… he had listened to his headphones, trying to distract himself, and then at five he had snuck out to run.

'Well, what about it?'

'I'm going to run it.'

Nick hesitated. 'Like… next year?'

'No. This year.'

'Gabriel. It's on in a couple of weeks. There's no way you could…'

"It's a month away. I'm not in shape."
"I didn't say you could win the race."

Gabriel had to swallow. Hard. 'I know I won't be able to win it, or get a decent place,' he gritted out. 'But, hell, I'll be able to finish it.'

Nick stared at him for a long time. Just before Gabriel got pissed enough to yell at him, he shook his head. 'Fine. Whatever. Talk to Michael. If he lets you, then great.'

He didn't sound too happy. He sounded exhausted.

Gabriel rolled off his bed. 'Fine. I'll talk to him. Either way, though, I'm going.'

The dog bounded ahead of him, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he look back at Gabriel, and Gabriel had to bite back a smile. Casper spent most of his time with Michael, something his older brother never stopped complaining about.

Of course, Michael hadn't fooled Gabriel, nor any of his brothers. Michael had a soft spot for the German Sheppard, and he was terrible at hiding it.

'Bloody dog hair all over my sheets,' he had muttered to Gabriel that morning. 'Dog hair everywhere.'

Gabriel had just given him a look. 'On your sheets. Dog hair. You've been letting Casper sleep in your bed, haven't you?'

Hannah had walked in at that point, and Michael looked a little too relieved to see her.

Gabriel had chuckled under his breath, grabbed Casper by the collar, and dragged him outside. He was still trying to learn the right German commands, but he whistled, Casper barked, and they both took off into the woods.

He had only been running for around ten minutes before Michael called his cell.

'I'm not dead, I'm not dying, and nothing is on fire,' he said when he answered.

'Oh, that's a relief. Where the hell are you then?'

'Running. Just around some tracks. Casper's with me.'

On the other end of the line, Michael hesitated. 'Training for this Marathon?'

Fricken Nick. 'I promised Hunter,' he tried to explain. Casper looked up at him and whined.

He heard Michael groan, and he gritted his teeth. 'I'm doing it, Michael. I swear to God, no matter what you say I'm doing it.'

'It's 26 miles-'

'Well, shit. I thought it was only five.'

Michael groaned again. 'I understand why you want to do this, but next year, Gabriel, you could actually prepare for it. Why not wait for next year?'

'Because I promised him. I told Hunter I'd do it.' He couldn't seem to say how important that was, that he owed Hunter this, that he had to do this. He closed his eyes, then opened them as Casper brushed against his legs.

Michael sighed. 'Fine. Look, if you think you can do it, fine.'

Fire. There was fire in his lungs, fire in his legs, fire in his freaking throat.

Left foot, right foot. He could feel his feet slapping against the ground, his calf muscles straining as he pushed forward.

Dammit, there was fire in his throat and it wasn't meant to be there. His elbows were locked, arms swinging by his side, covered in sweat.

He was near the end, but he didn't know how near he was.

Left foot. Right foot.

He had never hated fire so much in his damned life.

On and on.

He passed a woman in a fluoro yellow t-shirt, and she jogged beside him for a few strides, handing him a water bottle. 'This is the last stretch,' she told him. 'You're almost there!'

'I thought I was fit,' he croaked back. She laughed, then returned to her station.

But she was right, and when he strained to lift his head, he could see the finish line, a blurred line across the road in the distance.

He dropped his chin back to his chest, focused on the fire in his throat. He still clutched the water bottle in his hand, but he couldn't be bothered opening it.

Left. Right.

He could hear cheering. People cheering, yelling, clapping. And then, barking. He lifted his head again, saw that the finish line was closer. A German Shepard was near the front, pulling against its leash, jumping up. Casper. Gabriel managed a smile, and pushed his legs harder.

He was closer still, and he could make out the faces screaming at him. Nick. Chris. Michael. Waving their arms and yelling.

He stumbled another few steps, and then another, and watched in amazement as a bold line crossed under his feet (his tired, aching feet) and he heard his family scream, and he stumbled a few more feet towards the sound.

Then he was on his hands and knees and coughing, feeling like he was ready to hack up a lung, and there people all around him. Nick's arm across his back, thumping. Michael talking to him. Gabriel couldn't hear him over the rush in his ears.

Something wet dragged across his face and he jerked back, surprised, snapping his head up. Casper licked his face again, making that yowling sound dogs do when they get excited, and Gabriel wheezed a laugh. Placing a hand on the dog's chest, he pushed himself upright.

'Oh, thank fuck,' he heard Chris say, and Michael's face swarmed into view.

'Jesus, Gabriel, are you okay?' His hands were on his shoulders, keeping him steady, and it both comforted him and pissed him off. He shrugged Michael's hands off and struggled to stand.

Nick helped hold him down. 'Maybe you should stay sitting for awhile…'

'No, let him stand.' They all turned towards the newcomer, a man wearing the same fluoro-yellow jackets as the rest of the helpers. He looked concerned, but handed Gabriel a water bottle. 'You should walk around a bit, cool off.'

Gabriel struggled to stand, and the man grasped his hand to pull him up. 'Or maybe I should take you to the medical tent?'

'No,' rasped Gabriel. 'I'm just very not fit.'

The man left them and he chugged the water down. Damn, it never felt so good to drink some water. He could practically feel his throat shrivelling up.

'Are you sure you don't need anything else?' Chris asked, still peering at him. Gabriel shook his head. Once he started breathing normally again, he'd be fine.

The Marine Corps was a beast, that's for sure.

It's later that night, and Gabriel sat on the Faulkners front porch, on one of the armchairs they had pushed into a corner. Casper was curled up beside him, snoring, his nose pushed against the side of Gabriel's leg.

The night was quiet. Gabriel's legs still burned, his ankles still aching. Even his lungs were sore. It was a satisfying feeling, in a weird way.

He'd have to start training for next year's marathon. He'd run it for himself, this time. That would be nice.

He scratched Casper behind the ear, lent back, clasped his arms across his stomach, and thought of nothing.

A/N: Because Gabriel and Hunter were the best bros ever anD nOthiNg cAn ChanGe tHat. This book series killed me ;_;

If it seemed a little rushed towards the end, that's because it was. This has been in my folder forever and I just wanted it done and posted. It's also past 12 in the morning, so. Yeah. I'm tired.

Reviews appreciated!