“I run my household like a marathon. That’s 26.2 miles of me taking orders from my significant other, who has significantly more control over the relationship than I do.”

“I’d run 26.2 miles to eat a Marathon candy bar.”

“You’re as likely to see me sleeping on the job as a snooze is liable to grow legs 26.2 miles long and run a larm. What’s a larm? A buzzing sound the length of a marathon, but I always sleep through them—including the one in Boston.”

“I try to keep in mind” I recite dryly as I run the front sight of my pistol over his face, “that my life is only as significant, as I am to the lives of others.”He’s sobbing and won’t look up from the floor so I lean close to his ear and ask softly, “Would you say that I’m significant to your life?”

“I want a driveway so long you couldn’t see the end of it even if you were 26.1 miles into running a marathon on it. But why would you run? That’s why my clone will have invented teleportation.”

“I smiled. “You trust me more than Cas?”“Cas would choose a case of beer over me.”My laughter echoed through the cemetery. “That’s not true!” I brushed the hair from my face. “The others have your back.”“Yet you were the one who saved my life.”