Carter and Donovan's race as well as a little something extreme afterwards!

***********************************

The day was chilly as Donovan followed Link out of the boys' locker room. The sky was swept with a thin curtain of clouds. The air smelled of rain to come. Only a few students waited on the track, but more were trickling out, raising the volume. Donovan and Link made their way to where Carter was stretching. As they approached, she twisted to the side and winced slightly.

"What's wrong?" Donovan asked.

Carter was about to shake her head but stopped. Instead, she pivoted and lifted up the edge of her shirt. Before Donovan could get distracted by the curve of her waist and the smooth plain of her stomach, he noticed a fist size bruise on her left side, right below her ribs.

"That's thanks to you," she said, dropping her shirt and nodding to Donovan.

A frown flickered across his face, as guilt sank claws into his chest. Link looked between them.

"I thought she was the one hitting you?" he said.

"She was," Donovan said. "It was an accident." An accident that he wished never had happened. The last thing he ever wanted to do was cause Carter pain, she had enough of that as it was. "Carter also doesn't protect her left side."

She pointed to him. "This is not my fault. My left side is perfectly protected."

Donovan's eyes jumped down to her side and up at her.

"You left your left side wide open. How do you explain that bruise, if you were protecting your left side?"

When Carter scowled, Donovan raised a questioning eyebrow. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin, her expression shifting into something playful. It was a look that he liked all too much. It said she was ready to take on the world and was daring him to join her.

"Fine, it's something to remember the next time I take you on."

"Remember it, but I'll never fight you. I don't want to leave any more bruises than I already mistakenly have."

"I'm more resilient than I look."

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes that spoke of a taunting challenge.

"Don't worry, that's something I am very aware of. But I don't want to hurt you."

"So I'll just protect my left side then."

Donovan saw as Carter fought against a smile, his own lips struggling to remain in a straight line. Link's gaze skipped between them, his expression puzzled.

"I can't tell if you're flirting or not."

The smile broke free of Carter's hold as Donovan swallowed his down, though his eyes crinkled in the corners.

"Anyone tell you, you have a mean right hook?" Carter asked, eyes still pinned on him.

He jerked his chin at her. "What about your elbow?" He absentmindedly ran a hand over his jaw, still feeling the spot that was sore. "Where did you learn that move from?"

Something swam through her eyes, bringing out a wider smile.

"Captain taught me that one," she said. "I nearly took out his eye the first time I tried it."

Link chuckled while Donovan smiled. The amusement dropped away as his thoughts turned to her father. He knew Carter must have seen the diverting of his mind when her own smile fell.

"How's it going?" he asked.

As he waited for a response, he kept his gaze trained on her, knowing a lie would be easier for her to say than the truth. She unlaced her arms and rolled her shoulders before shrugging. It was a motion that belittled the weary flecks in her eyes.

"The same," she said.

Before he could say anything, she fixed her features into a taunting mask and spoke.

"Are you ready to find out once and for all who is faster?" she asked.

He knew what she was doing but accepted the topic change all the same.

"Now?" he asked.

She raised a mocking eyebrow. "Why? Do you want a week to prepare?"

The challenge curled his lips. "No, I wasn't sure if you needed one."

"I don't need to prepare to beat you."

"We'll see about that."

As if thinking the same thing, they moved over to their gym teacher. Link watched them walk away, with a half smile. Mr. Danes looked up as they both approached. His eyes raced between the two of them, caution written all over him.

"Can we borrow your two stopwatches?" Donovan asked.

Mr. Danes straightened and crossed his arms over his barrel size chest.

"What for?" he asked, his tone betraying his curiosity.

"We're going to prove that I'm faster than Donovan," Carter said.

Shaking his head, Mr. Danes gave a low chuckle. He reached into the pocket of his black pants and pulled out two stopwatches.

"Knock yourselves out," he said, handing them over. He focused on Carter. "I mean that in a figurative sense, Owens."

With a wink, she turned away. They walked back to Link, who studied them with a wary crease in his forehead.

"You sure this is a good idea?" he asked.

Carter and Donovan shared a look.

"Why wouldn't it be?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I just have this feeling you'll never talk to each other after this."

"Don't worry," Donovan said. "I'm sure Carter won't be too broken up about losing."

She smirked at him and handed Link one of the stopwatches.

"What do you say? Keep it easy and do a mile?" she asked.

Donovan gave a nod. "Sounds good."

They recruited a second student to work the other stopwatch and walked up to the starting mark. A quarter of the class looked over, vague expressions of intrigue and confusion playing over their faces. Mr. Danes took up a position beside Link, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Carter shook out her arms and rolled her shoulders, loosening up her limbs. Donovan pulled his knee to his chest and then switched. By the time their muscles were ready, the rest of the class had begun to wonder what was going on.

"Ready?" Link asked.

Donovan and Carter both sank down into a crouch, their fingertips barely resting in the red turf. He turned his head to her and she met his gaze.

"Don't punch me if you lose," he said.

"Don't pout if I win."

Link raised the stopwatch and the second student followed suit.

"All right, on your mark."

Donovan took in a breath, feeling the tips of his fingers beginning to buzz.

"Get set."

Energy coursed through his body, the familiarity of the competition zipping along his limbs.

"Go!"

They shot off like bullets from a gun, rounding the first turn at a dead sprint. Donovan located his stride and wrapped it around him, letting it drive him forward. As he picked up the pace, Carter followed. The pounding of his feet and the rhythm of his breath seemed to be the only thing Donovan could hear.

Carter edged forward and he was jolted into awareness of her. The way her lithe body moved. The determination and focus in each step. The ease in her face as though this race, this speed, this challenge was nothing new to her.

A thrill at finding someone who could match him swept through Donovan, increasing his velocity. It had been so long since he had been around someone who could truly challenge him, that he felt drunk on the feeling. Every cell was barraged with strength and he grabbed hold of it.

On the edge of the track, students watched as the two shifted back and forth, neither gaining any distance on the other. More and more students dropped their conversations and watched the two runners. Link clenched the stopwatch without knowing, his own breathing coming in shallow breathes, his gaze riveted on the speeding figures.

As they started the final lap, Donovan felt alive, like he could continue to run besides this girl forever and never get tired. His heart pounded against his ribs but whether from the physical excursion or her, he couldn't tell.

They rounded the last corner and Carter surged forward, but Donovan didn't let the lead last very long. He charged after her, with renewed determination, as if the prize wasn't being the winner but her.

A few students beside Link started yelling as they pelted towards them. Carter inched ahead and for a breath, Donovan realized that he might not win. For some reason and despite all the times he had fought to win against his brothers growing up, losing this time didn't seem to matter to him.

It was that one brief thought that lost him the race. With a fierce growl, Carter threw herself forward, crossing the line a millisecond before Donovan.

Link shouted, throwing his hands in the air. The two runners ran beyond the line before collapsing onto the field. They both laid on their backs, sucking in deep lungfuls of air. Exhaustion hit Donovan like a runaway train and every inch of him seemed to be on fire. His heart was making an attempt to leave his chest and he found there wasn't enough air to breathe.

When he twisted his head to Carter, he found she was already looking at him, gulping in air. They exchanged weak smiles.

The rest of the world came back to them as Mr. Danes blew his whistle and started everyone on their own miles. Link retrieved the other stopwatch and ran over to Carter and Donovan. He dropped to one knee beside her, his smile wide. They glanced at him.

"Want to hear the results?" he asked.

Carter and Donovan locked eyes again as if they just remembered they had been racing to prove something. Carter waved a floppy hand.

"Sure...what are...the results?" she asked, breathing labored.

"Carter came in first with 4 minutes, 38 seconds. Donovan is second with 4 minutes and 39 seconds."

Donovan reached over tapped Carter's arm with that back of his hand, able to feel the heat on her skin.

"Congratulations," he said.

She gave breathlessly chuckle. "I think I'll celebrate...by passing out now."

He smiled. "Really? I feel...fine."

She stretched out her hand and punched his arm, but the blow had little force behind it.

"Evans!" Mr. Danes barked.

Link jerked his head up. Mr. Danes gestured for him to get running. Standing, he returned the stopwatches, before joining the slow progression of students. Donovan didn't move, his muscles straining from being pushed so hard. Finally, when his breathing didn't take so much work, he sat up. He glanced over his shoulder at Carter. Her eyes were closed and she looked like she could lie there forever.

"You still feel like passing out?" he asked.

She shook her head. With a grunt, Donovan pushed himself up and held out a hand. She took it, their fingers gripping each other. Even after the taxing working out, he easily lifted her to her feet like she weighed nothing. Their hands dropped away from each other.

Sweat beaded on Donovan's forehead and he lifted the edge of his shirt up, wiping it away. From the corner of his eye, he caught the slight rise in Carter's eyebrows, her eyes on his stomach. Though he hadn't done it intentionally, he suppressed a satisfied smirk.

On the track, a few girls, passing by, stumbled into each as they tried to walk and stare at the same time.

"Careful, Donovan," Carter said. "You might send the girls in this class to the nurse with fainting spells."

Conscious of the eyes on him beside Carter's, he dropped his shirt. Unable to help it, he gave her a half smile.

"Do you number among that lot, Carter?"

Though he knew she would deny it, part of him wanted to know. Crossing her arms, she gave him a flat stare in response. His smile grew. She pointed to his hip. The spot where a bruise had formed from her knee.

"I see you have some nice coloring," she said, a touch of gratification in her voice.

"I have your knee to thank for that."

She smirked. He tilted his head in the direction of the track.

"You want to cool down?" he asked.

"I feel like I want to throw up, but sure, let's cool down."

They moved onto the track and started jogging. The slow, rhythmic pace helped Donovan's muscles relax, relishing the comforting movement. Donovan glanced at her, taking in her profile. The slope of her nose and the line of her jaw.

"Do you plan on hiding out with us again today?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I think I've avoided the apartment enough this week."

Donovan nodded and faced forward, trying to steer his mind away from her. Away from thoughts that he had let himself indulge in too much already that day. Before he could stop himself, he spoke.

"Well," he said, "if you ever need to hide out, my couch is available."

"Is that an open invitation?" she asked, with a teasing smirk.

When he met her gaze, there was no joke in his eyes.

"It is," he said.

Even though he knew he shouldn't be inviting this girl into more parts of his life, afraid of how it would affect him, he needed her to know that with him she could always find a place of safety.

Sensing the seriousness of his offer, Carter didn't smile or make a single mocking comment.

"Thanks," she said.

He gave a nod. They were silent a moment and then he spoke.

"I'm sure Link is lonely," he said, knowing that the longer he was alone with her the more tangled his thoughts would become. He was here for a reason and as much as he might want, that reason was not Carter.

She smiled. "Let's go keep him company then."

They quickened their pace, and Donovan couldn't help but notice how their strides were perfectly in sync.

***************

The lights flickered to life as Donovan flipped the switch. His apartment was neat and silent. Behind him, he nudged the door shut, closing off the sounds of the apartments across the way. Leaving his keys on a table by the door, he walked over to the couch and sank down.

In the quiet, his mind began to mull over things he didn't want it to. With a call from Maddy, Link had ducked into his apartment, leaving Donovan alone, something he didn't want to be at that moment. Being alone meant he had space to think. Thinking was dangerous of late, his thoughts turning to just one thing that he couldn't shut out.

Needing to distract his mind, he opened his computer and hit play. Pounding music pulsed through the living room as he collected his hand gun from the safe. He settled back on the couch and went to work. Every edge and piece were familiar. His hands worked expertly, building the gun up to only tear it down again. Over and over he assembled and dissembled it fighting against his persistent thoughts.

The sound of ringing snapped him from his focus. Looking to his computer, he found James was calling him. He readily accepted and returned to his work. On the screen, his brother's face appeared.

"Hey Donny boy," he said.

"What do you want?" Donovan asked, not looking at him. "Miss me after only three days?"

A laugh echoed through the speakers. "I like you, but not that much. No, I was wondering if I left my black belt there. I seem to be missing it."

The edge of Donovan's lips twitched.

"You left that, your toothbrush, comb and running shoes. I fear you're going senile."

"It's only because I'm making so much money and have three of everything that I didn't notice."

Donovan gave a mocking nod.

"Do you mind sending them to me?" James asked.

Donovan loaded the clip into the gun and then began to take it apart once again.

"Everything is already on it's way," he said.

"Thanks."

James paused and Donovan glanced at the screen to see if he had hung up. His brother was still there, staring at him and more importantly the gun in his hands. Arms crossed, he leaned on the table, his posture inquisitive.

"You gonna tell me what you're trying not to think about?" he asked.

"Who says I'm trying to not think about anything?"

As if to contradict him, his mind flared with the days events. Gritting his teeth against the relentless images, he worked faster.

"You assembled that gun twice during our conversation, you're definitely trying to avoid something. What is it?"

Donovan gave no answer. He blamed his brother that these thoughts had even gained strength. Before his visit, Donovan had been handling everything fine. He had been able to control where his mind went when he was alone and quiet. Now it was harder than ever and the race today had not aided him.

"Donny, do I have to reach through this screen and beat it out of you?"

Donovan raised his gaze to his brother.

"You have many talents, but that is even beyond your capability."

Instead of offering a jab back, James narrowed his eyes.

"You really don't want to talk about this, do you?" he said.

"No, I don't."

Donovan grimaced, it was the wrong thing to say cause James's face broke into a wide grin.

"It's about Carter, isn't it?"

Donovan flexing jaw was all the response James needed. He fell out of screen laughing. Irritated, Donovan reached to end the call. Knowing his line of thought, James raised his hand stopping him.

"Don't do it," he said. "Tell me what happened."

"Who said anything happened?"

Donovan grappled with the gun, furiously working, battling his own mind. James was silent, watching him.

"You don't always have to be alone, you know that right?"

The words stilled Donovan's motions. When he looked at his brother, he was staring back at him with a serious expression.

"Force of habit," Donovan said.

"I get that. So what happened?"

For a long moment, Donovan wrestled with the words.

"Today Carter and I had a mile race..." James raised an eyebrow. "She won."

Despite James going into another round of laughter, Donovan smiled. When James finally regained his composure, Donovan's face had gone blank again. James grinned, the look taunting.

"Now which one of us is slow?"

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What are you looking at, punk?

Well obviously a screen, or else you wouldn't be able to read this. So HA! Answered that question correctly.

What did you think? A section that has never been seen before, ooooohhh it's so amazing and wonderful you don't even know how to deal with it.

I know. 😉

Thoughts?

(Yes, this was the first original snapter I wrote, all the others came after)

Vote for the originality of it. Comment on Donovan's emotions and follow me because who else are you gong to follow?