They wake up spooning.

Lucas is not even sure how, logistically. The couch is not large enough for both of them to comfortably sleep here. But here they are, doing it anyway: she’s tucked in front of him, with one of her legs kicked back between his thighs and the other bent to match his - as best as she can, anyway, considering their height difference. His right arm is bent, his own head in his palm, hers resting on his bicep; his left arm is wrapped tightly around her abdomen, palm curved around so far that his knuckles are pressing against the couch.

It’s only eight-thirty, but it’s darker still in their apartment, and for a minute Lucas considers just closing his eyes again and sleeping until morning. But she hasn’t finished packing, and he’s got texts to send and arrangements of his own to finalize. He nudges the back of her shoulder with his chin, over the thick fabric of her shirt. “Sarah, babe - wake up,” he whispers.

“No,” she whines, turning her face into his arm. “I don’t want to.”

Lucas smiles; she’s so cute. “You have to finish packing, Sarah.”

“Oh.” Sarah turns around, somehow managing to stay on the couch, and slips her right knee between his. She buries her face in his t-shirt, as if she’s able to get deep enough into him, she can hide forever. “You’re the worst alarm clock, Lucas.”

He laughs softly and grabs her hip so she doesn’t fall off of the couch. “No, there’s have to be worse alarms than me, Sarah!” Then, feeling daring, he reaches down, grabs her ass with his open palm, and smacks it. “Up and at ‘em!”

Her eyes fly open. “Lucas!” Sarah yelps, giggling as she reaches around to the edge of the couch and sits up. “Oh my god.”

“Worked, didn’t it?” Lucas shrugs, winking at her.

Sarah stands up and flips him her middle finger. “Fine, fine, I’ll go finish packing.” She gives a heavy sigh, one that Lucas recognizes: it’s the same one he’s breathed whenever he’s had to go do something he doesn’t want to.

He clears his throat. “Hey, Sarah?”

She stops before turning the corner into the hallway. “Yes?”

“You’re going to do great,” Lucas tells her. “Don’t worry.”

Sarah smiles at him. “Thanks, Lucas,” she says, then she’s gone.

Lucas is not really what he’d describe as a planner.

He’s organized, sure. He knows how best to keep a kitchen arranged, has a preference for the way he likes his hunting stuff to be stored in his parents’ garage, has a system for his tackle box. But planning - not exactly his strong suit, not really.

But for this trip to Reading to support Sarah in her marathon efforts, he’s really pulled out all the stops. He’s already got everyone lined up to come. Everyone’s got stuff they’re responsible for bringing. They have sites booked at the countryside - sure, it’s about fifteen minutes away by car from Reading, but it’s a great area and the drive will be nice. Lucas thinks the actual townsite is overrated, anyway; he’ll go because it’s where the marathon starts and ends, but it’s overly commercialized and nothing about it is really camping, not by his definition.

This won’t be, either; they’ve got tents and are bringing food, sure, but they won’t be digging holes in the woods for latrines, and there are places to shower if people need. Lucas’s a fan of a more back-woods style of camping, where you wander into the wilderness with your supplies and emerge two weeks later - reeking, but having had the time of your life, with your garbage bundled on your back so that Mother Nature couldn’t tell you were even there. This isn’t that, not at all, but it’ll be more relaxed, too. Relieving oneself in the woods isn’t for everybody.

Sarah leaves fairly early in the morning. Lucas’s awake, wearing pyjama pants and a t-shirt, pretending to have rolled out of bed just to say goodbye. It’s the day before her marathon; she’s heading up to have a good night’s sleep at a hotel with her parents, then she’ll start the run early in the morning. The plan on Lucas’s end is that he, Marcia, and Hamil will drive up together in a few hours, with Lemuel and Jordan just behind them. They’ll set up their campsite and get prepared for a long morning of marathon-watching the next day, then spend a few days hiking, canoeing, and generally having a good time in the great outdoors. It’s going to be great.

Of course, Sarah knows none of this, so Lucas makes sure to be out of his room to wish her luck when she leaves. He gives her a hug. “Knock ‘em dead, Half-Sour,” he says, pressing a light kiss to her temple. “Run like the wind. And text me when you’re done, let me know how it went.”

Sarah nods. “Will do,” she says, heading through the doorway with her bag. She gives a nervous smile, waves, then lets the door shut.

Immediately, Lucas hops into gear: Marcia’s coming over soon to pack up a bag for Sarah, so he has to hop in the shower. His own stuff is mostly packed, but he’s have to do a last check, and also leave time for the two of them to head to Jersey so that he can pick up his dad’s truck and most of their camping supplies. It’s a hectic morning and it’s going to be a long drive up, but it’ll be worth it when Sarah sees all of their faces at the finish line.

He knows it will.