A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME
Okay, I admit, I've been inspired by certain photos that are doing the rounds at the moment, and so here's a little tale of Dean being sporty - or maybe not!
Mentions of stuff going on in season 10 - so maybe vague spoilers ...?Disclaimer: I don't own him, I just like to pretend!
Character: Dean W
Word Count: 300
It had seemed like a good idea at the time.
The violent urges that the Mark was inflicting on Dean were becoming harder to suppress, and after he’d discovered that they could be held in check by physical activity, he’d started working out in the bunker’s surprisingly well-appointed gym.
But even that had begun to lose its efficacy and the intervals between his rages were growing shorter. So in order to step up his defences, Dean had embraced Sam’s suggestion that he should attempt a triathlon.
That was then, when it had seemed like a really good idea.
This was now.
Now, as Dean limped along on an ankle that was twisted, or sprained, or probably broken after stumbling down a steep incline in knee-deep, stinking mud with which he was now liberally coated and which was, for the record, chafing evilly, he was rueing his hasty decision.
He tried not to dwell on the cold and slimy something that he could feel under his T-shirt, clinging to his back after that stupid swim across the lake – if it was a leech or an eel, then he wouldn’t need the Mark of Cain to show the world how pissed off he was.
Worse still, after three agonising hours in that tortuously narrow razor-blade of a bicycle saddle he’d lost all feeling in a place where that was SO not a good thing.
His legs ached, his blisters had blisters; his lungs burned, he was dripping with sweat and smelled like a goddamn polecat, and one thing was for sure – he would never snigger if anyone mentioned jogger’s nipple ever again
And the worst thing of all was that, far from suppressing his violent urges, now all he wanted to do was to find the idiot who invented triathlons and murder them slowly!