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Jude was going to die. How would Cope eulogize his husband, tragically taken far too soon? Hero was the first word that came to mind. Jude was a hero not just to his family, but to the men and women of the Salem Police Department and the entire city of Salem.

Selfless was the second word he hoped Cope would use to describe him. Jude gave his all to his city, the police department, his friends, and most importantly, to his family. Unless there was only one glazed donut left and then it was every man for himself.

“Get a move on, Jude, for fuck’s sake!” Ronan loud whispered, which was to say that his tone was only a decibel or three lower than his usual voice. He jogged backward, in place, waiting for Jude to catch up.

“Give me a break, asshole,” Jude gasped for air.

“It’s hotter than Satan’s taint out here.

Any second now, I’m going to melt into a puddle of goo like the Wicked Witch when Dorothy threw a bucket of water on her.

” What Jude would give for a bratty, gingham-clad girl to douse him with ice cold water right now.

He stopped running when he reached Ronan, who kept jogging in place.

“Where the hell is Fitzy?” Ronan asked, picking the pace up and rounding the corner toward Fitzgibbon’s house.

“You probably tripped him in your bid to win our run around the block.” When they were out in the field, chasing down killers, Jude loved Ronan’s tenacity.

His stick-to-itiveness. His all-out zeal to solve cold cases and bring grieving families a measure of justice.

Now, however, Jude wanted to smack his best friend. Hard. Twice.

“See, there he is.” Ronan pointed toward Fitz’s stoop, where he sat with Aurora, Everly, and Wolf. All three kids were dressed and ready to go.

“Geez, Dad, what took you so long?” Everly asked with a wicked grin.

“Yeah, you and Daddy look like you jumped in the fountain near the park.” Wolf wore an envious look.

“Seems like you took the shortcut, Fitzy,” Jude deadpanned.

He rested his hands on his knees in a bid to catch his breath.

He wasn’t made for Salem’s soupy humidity.

People laughed when he said Arizona had dry heat, but it was true.

Back home, Jude could have run twice the distance, in half the time, without so much as breaking a sweat, never mind being soaked to his skin like he was now.

“Aurora called me to say the kids were ready to run. I couldn’t leave them out here waiting for us alone.” Fitz offered a so-there grin.

“If everyone’s done complaining. Can we go now?” Everly asked. Not waiting for an answer she took off down the block. “Let’s run, witches!” Wolf and Aurora were right behind her.

Jude had thought it was cute when Everly suggested that slogan for their team, but now, he had a better one: Running’s a witch. “Look at them go,” Jude panted as he, Ronan and Fitz jogged behind them. “I wish I had Wolf’s energy for an hour. I could rule the world.”

“Nah, I’d take Everly’s knees. They’re so bouncy and don’t crack when she stands up, or tell her when it’s about to rain. “ Ronan swiped his left hand against his sweaty forehead before wiping it on the back of his running shorts. “What about you, Fitz?”

“I’ll let Aurora keep all her pieces so long as we can get her through this run without her melting down for being hot, sweaty, tired, or hungry.

” Fitz paused, his eyes on Ronan. “Wait a second, that’s a perfect description of you two chuckleheads.

” Fitz burst out laughing before jogging ahead of his partners.

“Can you believe that son of a bitch?” Jude asked.

“We’re out here dying and he’s cracking jokes at our expense.

” To be honest, Jude was jealous of the shape Fitz was in.

While he and Ronan stopped working out after Jude’s near miss at the hands of Salem’s own killer angel, Fitzgibbon had kept himself in shape.

He ran nearly every day and lifted weights twice a week.

“He’s just showing off,” Ronan muttered.

“Come on, Daddy!” Everly shouted from halfway up the block. “I know you’re old, like Uncle Jude! Move your buns!”

Jude gasped with outrage. He wasn’t old. Well, not compared against Julius Caesar or George Washington. He had a feeling good old George wouldn’t be outside sweating his ass off in the June heat. Asshole was probably yucking it up in heaven with Marilyn Monroe and Princess Diana.

“Come on, we need to catch up to them.” Ronan took off toward the kids, who’d started running again.

Jude sped up behind him. Salem had been hosting the Witches Dead Run for the last twenty years.

It was always held the weekend after school ended, as a way to send the kids off on their summer adventures.

This was the first year he’d thought to run it, and that was because the money went into the coffers of Wolf’s Class of 2037 for things like field trips, prom, and—gulp— graduation.

Each year, he always donated generously to the cops on the force who walked around the office looking for donations for their kids, but he’d never thought to participate.

Jude figured he was doing his duty to his community by helping put killers behind bars.

Now, he felt like there was so much more he could do to help Salem thrive.

“ Finally , Dad,” Wolf grumped when Jude caught up with him. It wasn’t like his son to have anything less than his usual sunny disposition.

“What’s up with that attitude, Wonder Wolf?” His son was only six, Jude hoped he wasn’t developing a case of the tweens, like kids on the shows they watched together.

“Dad, we’re in last place,” Wolf said, pointing to where the others were rounding the corner onto Prospect Street. “We gotta pick up the pace if we’re going to win. Losing sucks.”

Jude wasn’t sure which issue to address first. Wolf’s attitude on winning or losing.

Taking a deep breath, so he wouldn’t pass out and crack his skull open on the sidewalk, Jude jumped in feet first. “First of all, this isn’t a race.

It doesn’t matter if we come in first or last.” Everyone who finished got the same participation medal, which Jude thought was also awarded to the kids who started, but didn’t finish the two kilometers, or one mile, of the course.

“What matters is that we’re raising money and helping out our city. ”

“Dad,” Wolf began, sounding older than his six years, “I know it’s not a race, but I want to kick Everly’s booty.”

Jude couldn’t help barking a quick laugh. “Why?”

“Because, Everly is the best at everything. She wins every spelling bee. And math quizzes. And reading contests. I just want to beat her at one thing.”

Taking a moment to think over what his son had said, Jude remembered back to his own childhood.

Nearly all of the kids on Navajo Nation looked down on him because he was only half native and because he’d spent his early years in Albuquerque, off-reservation.

Feeling like a second-class citizen pushed him to excel in everything he did.

Unfortunately, it also pushed him to get his ass out of town the second he turned eighteen.

“I used to feel that way too. That I just wanted to win at something, when all I’d ever done was lose. ”

“Of course you won, Dad. You’re the best at everything too. Making pancakes. Drawing pictures with me. Building LEGO kits. Reading to Lizzy B.”

It never crossed Jude’s mind that being the best at the things Wolf named meant anything.

Just like now, with the fun run, Jude was enjoying time with his son.

Maybe this change of attitude could help Wolf.

“You’re the best at setting the table, singing the goodnight song, keeping your sister safe and helping me wash the car.

Not being the best at school activities isn’t the end of the world. You win all the time, buddy.”

Wolf was silent for a few seconds.

Jude noticed they were starting to catch up with the others, who were only half a block or so ahead of them. He couldn’t help but think that with a burst of speed, he and Wolf could beat everyone back to Fitzgibbon’s house.

“You’re right Dad,” Wolf agreed easily, “but wouldn’t it be great to kick their butts?”

“You know what, Wonder Wolf? It would.” Jude knew that winning wasn’t everything, but it sure would be fun to see the look on Ronan’s face when he ran past him.

“Yay! We’re gonna kick sass and take names! Wolf howled and took off running.

Damn straight . Jude put on a burst of speed. He felt like he was getting his second wind. It felt good to put his feet to the pavement and move again. It had been two years since his near-death experience, it was time for him to break free from the things holding him back.

What better way to put his new mindset into practice than by streaking past Fitz and Ronan to the finish line?