Chapter Text
The early morning July heat started creeping up like a warning. The unforgiving sun starts to shine into old barn windows, into an old upstairs tack room that's been converted into a bedroom.
Dennis Whitaker sat at the end of his makeshift bed, headphones in, slipping on his boots for the day. Funk music drifted into the quiet barn. Fully dressed, Dennis reached for the mini fridge beside his bed, grabbed his water and debated which protein bar to take.
“Mraow”
Dennis turned his head to see that the fat orange barn cat made his way into the room, which was always easy because there was no door. Just some old tablecloth nailed in.
“Hey Cheese, you hungry? Come on.” Dennis grabbed his breakfast and pushed himself off the bed, making sure to give Cheese a scratch on the head before going down the steps into the main floor of the barn.
Dennis made his way down the wide hall of the barn, passing the empty stall doors. Reaching the end, he undid the latches of the large barn doors and pushed them open. Letting the light filter into the big building and taking in the view. A sunny day, a few large white clouds slowly passing by. Across the dirt ground led to the large pasture, where the herd of horses was already waiting for him.
“Be with you guys soon!” Dennis called out to them before turning around and heading back inside the barn, Cheese the cat close at his heels. Walking into the large feed room, he grabbed the bag of cat food and filled up the ceramic bowl on the ground. Cheese gave a few happy chirps before digging in. Dennis gave him another pat on the head before getting started on filling up buckets of horse feed. Humming along with his music, he let his muscle memory prepare specific horses' food.
Once finished and all buckets hooked into the correct stall and their doors open, Dennis jogged back outside and over the gate, where 10 horses waited to be let in. Unlatching the gate and quickly stepping aside, the herd trotted themselves inside and into their respective stall, quickly shoving heads into their feed buckets.
Dennis gave a smile before walking outside over to the chicken coops, ready to let them out. Throwing open the door, a flock of hens and one rooster ran out. The next coop to be opened had runner ducks waddling out.
“Ok, chickens, you guys can’t be assholes today”, Dennis said to them as he made his way back to the barn to get their food, remembering how yesterday they kept trying to jump and peck at him while he was painting their coop. With feed in hand, he started to fill up their feeders when his name was called out.
“Dennis! Morning, gonna be a hot one today.”
Looking up, he saw the owner of the farm, Joyce, making her way from the main house with 2 iced coffees in hand.
“Morning, Joyce, thank you!”
She made her way over, handing him the iced coffee she had made. His with 2 espresso shots, milk and vanilla syrup.
“You’ll need the caffeine today, sunshine. Should be a fun day.” She said with a smile.
Dennis nodded along. “Yeah, deworming day for the horses. But they usually take the meds pretty well. Well, except Tilly, but that's ponies for you, I guess.”
“And we have someone new joining us. He’ll be working with you. Can teach him all your chores and some of the vet med that you do, he’ll be able to handle that.”
Dennis raised his eyebrows, “Wow, someone new already?”
Joyce and her late husband owned the farm for 40 years. A large expanse of land, fields growing crops in the summer and fall. Angus cows roam their fields. The place was so large that if Dennis wanted to go over the cows or crops, he usually got on the four-wheeler and drove over. Horses, goats, pigs, ducks and chickens are where Dennis spends the majority of his time.
They made a good living doing hard work that fed their community. After Joyce’s husband passed away after a brief fight with cancer, the farmhands stayed, the farm kept running and providing. But Joyce felt like she was always missing something. Her grand idea was working with the government to take on community members in need. And, it stuck.
“He needs to complete community service. His work is also making him take time off, so he’ll be here for 2 months. I thought you’d work well with him; he’s spent the last decade in an ER as a Doc, so if he can’t handle a simple deworming, I’ll be surprised."
Dennis didn't look up from his work. “Yeah, I’d be happy to help out with him. I don’t know how much we’ll have in common. I’ve been out of med school for a year now. Just make sure he’s got boots, Joyce. And tell him not to walk behind the mares.”
She laughed, turning back toward the house. "You’ll do fine with him, Den. You’ve got more common sense in your pinky finger than most of the people who come through here. He should be here in 2 hours, finish up morning chores and then give him the tour, will you? I have to run into town for a meeting.” Joyce said.
Dennis watched her go, his grip tightening on the bucket handle. Worried about what memories and feelings of lost dreams spending 2 months with an ER doctor might bring up. Hopefully, he could finish his tasks quickly and then get a quick nap in before.
Robby leaned against the window in the passenger's seat, letting the landscape of trees and open farm land speed past him.
“We should be coming up on the place soon,” The driver said. Robby gave a glance at Jack Abbot before giving a quick grunt as a response, and letting his head fall back against the window.
Jack kept trying to talk to him, trying to savour the time before they’d be apart for 2 months. “I looked up reviews of this place, all great. Seems like they produce some good local food. And great community work, Kiara had some great praise. Said some real tough people got their lives turned around here.”
Robby let out a hum. “Oh, I’m a real tough guy who needs to get his life straight? You know I did nothing wrong,” He said with a scoff.
“Well, I know that, obviously,” Jack gave the steering wheel a light slap. “But the ethics committee and the law do not know that. I mean, they probably do actually, but ya know, red tape shit, hands tied.”
“The hospital couldn't give a damn to even try to help me. Bullshit lawsuit… I’m sure they're hoping I just don’t bother to come back…”
A large wooden sign stood in front of a long side road.
Sullivan Family Farm
Jack turned the car down the road, green fields and white fences passed them. Robby could see horses grazing up on a hill.
Reaching the end of the long driveway, they pulled up to a large white house. It almost looked too good to be true, a big porch with a swing, windows open with the wind blowing the curtains in a picturesque way.
Jack looked over to him. “Do you know where to go?”
“Down to a barn, said some worker will show me around, get me set up. I assume over there.” He nodded his head over to the large red barn that stood deeper into the property. Giving a sigh, he swung the door open, ready to start his next 2 months.
Jack popped the trunk open, getting out as well.
Robby opened the trunk and hauled out the bag he packed. Jack walked over to him. “Hey, try to enjoy it here, it looks pretty nice. You know what you did is right; you saved a life. At the end of the day, that's all we can hope for. You needed a break anyway. I know how the ED affects you, and sometimes you say some scary shit, brother. You’re not in jail and have your phone, so call me sometimes, ok?” Jack said, trying to look his best friend in the eyes. Robby did not meet his gaze, just giving a tight smile and nod, looking over to the barn.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll try. You should get back and enjoy the rest of the day. Thanks for driving me out.”
Jack pulled Robby into a hug. “Of course, brother. I’ll miss you, and the ED will miss you.” Jack got back in the car, still looking at Robby while shifting the car back into drive.
Robby tried to give him a genuine smile as he drove off.
Picking up his bag, he started to make his way to the red barn. It really was a nice-looking place. The kind city people come and pay to see.
Some chickens roamed around the barn. Robby took a wide berth from them, unsure of how chickens treat strangers. Do you let chickens smell you like dogs?
The large barn doors were open, inviting Robby to step inside. It was quiet. Stalls with nameplates on both sides. All empty, he assumed it was for the horses he saw on the way in.
“Hello?” Robby called out.
No response.
He thought about pulling out his phone to call the owner with whom he had been in contact when he saw stairs leading upstairs.
Robby started to make his way up the stairs, creaking with each step. On the way up, he passed colorfull ribbons that lined the walls. Pictures, some new and some old, were proudly framed.
Now on the second floor, he was met with what just looked like storage and a sketchy-looking ladder that seemed to lead up to a hayloft.
A dusty red checkered tablecloth that was slightly split in the middle caught his eye.
Robby hesitated, the heavy canvas bag pulling at his shoulder. He swallowed down the knot of exhaustion that had been sitting in his throat for weeks and reached out, pushing the fabric aside.
"Hello? Anyone here? I'm looking for—"
The words died right in his throat.
The room was small, a converted tack room smelling faintly of cedar, old leather, and a surprisingly clean scent of vanilla. But Robby wasn't looking at the room. He was looking at the man sitting on the edge of the unmade bed.
Dennis Whitaker.
Whitaker had one boot on, the other dangling from his hand, his head snapped up in surprise. Wired headphones falling out of his ear, a faint funk bassline bleeding into the shocked silence.
For a second, Robby’s brain flatlined. The exhaustion, the burnout, the lingering anger over the lawsuit… it all evaporated, replaced by a sudden, jarring rush of recognition. It was him. It was the kid from the Pitt. The kind, brilliant med student who had trailed behind him for exactly one grueling week before vanishing off the face of the earth. The one who worked with Robby on one of the worst shifts of his life… the one who got him to stand back up.
Robby stood frozen, his eyes sweeping over Dennis before his conscious mind could even tell him to stop staring. Jesus. A year had changed him. He was not the small pale kid who looked like he needed a week of sleep and a balanced meal. His shoulders broader and muscles lean and solid under his shirt from long days of physical labor.
But it was the face that hit Robby like a physical blow. The short haircut he remembered was replaced with blond curls that were a little unruly, sides of his head slightly shaved down, damp from the morning heat and framing a face that Robby had thought about entirely too often over the last year. And those eyes. Those big, sweet, impossibly blue eyes were staring right back at him, wide with the same shock he remembered.
A familiar pull of attraction and guilt pulled at Robby's chest. The same feeling he had when Dennis first walked into the Pitt.
Dennis stared, his mouth slightly open, the boot slipping completely out of his hand and hitting the wooden floorboards with a dull thud.
The July heat seemed to press into the small room, thick and suffocating, as the reality of the situation crashed down on them. He looked around the room, the bed, the mini-fridge, the tablecloth door, and then right back into those big blue eyes.
“Whitaker… you… live in a barn.”
“I work in the barn also… Dr. Robby, are y-you staying here for the next two months by any chance? Or just passing through?” Dennis got out, swallowing hard.
“It seems like I’ll be your student this time. Am I also staying in this room, or…” Robby said with a smile, hoping to calm down the kid who looked like he was about to combust.
The next two months would be very interesting.