I'm Not Listening. -A Sign Language Klance Fanfiction

The District's Race

A/N: Cross Country races do get this severe pretty often. This is lightly based off of unfair play when my leg was cut on purpose by someone's racing spikes in high school

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Lance had been Captain for a week and Mack had said nothing, but both boys knew that he was well aware that they were gay for each other: Not ideal.

Kayla knew now and she seemed to keep her distance from Keith- he had lost his best friend and he missed all the times that she would pop up from behind his locker door. The worst part was that Lance had been ignoring him at school and he never shined his flashlight in Keith's window to leave goodnight messages. 

It was a lonely hell. Lance had taken back to biting his hand to calm his nerves. Keith laughed when Tony, the football player laughed at Lance and each time, Keith looked as if he died a little more.

Lance refused to run with Keith and Mack and instead sprinted ahead and impressed the rest of the team.

The Regional's Race was approaching and then it came. Marshall High was racing against every team in their district. There were runners even faster than Lance and he knew that he had to pick up the pace.

Maybe Mack hadn't seen? If he hadn't, then why did Kayla seem to know. Nothing made any sense but Keith couldn't think about that. He was busy just worrying about Lance. Lance was busy worrying about Keith- neither of them were coping very well.

The Regional's Race was a BIG deal. It determined if Marshall would go to State's and that was everything. Of the schools participating was York, Lafayette, Madison, Patriot, Kilmer, Lake Braddock, Woodson, and their own team, Marshall High.

Everyone was nervous. Their team was scattered under their canopy, some sitting on water coolers and others stretching in the grass.

"Hey faggot." Mack whispered to Kieth. "You had better watch for your little boyfriend. Patriot doesn't like you Queers any more than I do."

Keith swallowed. "What the fuck are you talking about? Why are you bonding with Patriot?"

"This team went to shit faster than I imagined." He laughed. "Thanks to your fuck-buddy."

Keith squinted at Mack. "You're scared, aren't you? That Lance is going to beat you?"

"Sure, Lance will beat me but he can't outrun everyone."

Keith looked over to Lance and watched him twisting fresh metal spikes into the bottom of his racing shoes.

"Leave him alone." Keith said. "Fuck with me, fine. Fuck with Lance-"

"What?" Mack scoffed. "You're going to tell? Wait until everyone learns a deaf gay is running one of the best teams in the district. That'll go over well."

"You wouldn't tell-" Keith stammered. 

"Nope. I give my word. I'm not telling anyone else."

"What do you mean?"

"Your little friend, Kayla? You sure played her as a fool."

"Go away!" Keith shouted. "Go bother someone else."

Lance looked up when his hearing aides picked up Keith shouting. He put down his box of fresh spikes and looked to Keith.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Did Mack do something?"

"He's not telling anyone about... us."

"I don't believe that."

Keith sighed. He though about telling Lance about the threat that Mack gave but decided to let it go- he didn't want to psych Lance out just before one of the most important races. Whatever.

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The gun sounded off and the boys went sprinting across the green. The course was set around a trail leading around large hills, through a knee-deep creek and through woods until it was back to the finish across a grass straightaway. Lance took off, Keith staying behind him.  Keith was running full-speed, trying to keep an eye on Lance but he was too fast. Keith couldn't keep eyes on him the whole time and instead made sure to look through the uniforms sprinting up the hill above. Lance was somewhere in the group at the front. Keith could see his sky-blue uniform against a sea of red and black.

Lance was reaching the end of the race. He had been trying to pass one kid from Patriot but he was too fast. The straightaway was up ahead. Lance was about a hundred yards, kicking into high gear when the kid from Patriot cut him off, throwing an elbow into his ribs.

PAIN.

Excruciating pain burned from Lance's knee. The Patriot brat "spiked" him in the knee, shoving his foot back and snapping Lance's leg. The shoe's metal spikes gashed his leg and Lance fell to the ground. 

The crowd was silent. Everything was silent. Some runners pat his back as they run by but Lance was out of the running. His leg was burning lead and his head was no longer in the game. All he could do was crawl. All he could do was get up and try to hobble to the finish. He was so damn close. 

Finally, Keith arrived. His heart sank and his anger flared when he saw Lance on the ground. The paramedics were waiting on the sidelines. It was only 20 minutes. Keith had made an amazing time by just trying to protect Lance.

"C'mon man." He said, pulling Lance to his feet. He knew that he couldn't hear him but he could feel him. He helped Lance cross the finish line as soon as possible.

"fags." Mack whispered, passing them by. Keith pushed Lance across the finish line, making sure that he was first.

Paramedics swarmed him. Was the knee broken? It sure as hell looked like it. Someone came running with Lance's backpack. Keith translated that he would be taken to the hospital.

"I'm coming with him."

"No- you can't, son, I'm sorry."

"He's Deaf, he needs me to interpret." (lie)

The man sighed and allowed Keith in the back of the ambulance. He looked at Lance, "Son, I'm afraid your knee is broken."