Chapter Text
The sun had just started to peek above the horizon when Dennis exited his little cabin, the birds were awake and singing the first music of the day. The evening chill still clung to the air, the scent fresh and clean as he trekked down the porch steps to his old Jeep. In the distance, Dennis could spot motion from the barn where his brothers were beginning the daily tasks, alongside hearing the cows lowing as they trudged into the field. Pressing in the button on the handle to release the catch in the Jeep’s door, Dennis swung it open and clambered in.
The seat fabric was worn and marked with dirt and dried mud; it was difficult to keep any vehicle clean on a farm. Stick shift and still with a cassette player shoved above the radio, Dennis got the Jeep rumbling awake before backing out of the drive.
He had just begun trundling down the dirt road, driving past the other buildings on the farm, including his childhood home, when his phone rang. Frowning, Dennis pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the caller ID.
“Why the hell…” Dennis mumbled to himself as he answered. Putting it on speaker, he tossed it onto his dashboard as he asked, “Jack?”
“Hey, kid.” Came his previous attending’s tired but upbeat voice of a man just getting off of a long shift. “How you doing?”
Still confused but pleased to speak to the man, Dennis replied, “Not too bad. Headin’ on into work today.”
“Ah, so I caught you a good time, then?”
“...Sure?” He narrowed his eyes at his phone and the suspicious tone in Jack’s voice. “What’d you want?”
“Can’t an attending call his favourite resident?”
“I know for a fact Samira and Trin are you favourite.”
“Yeah, but you’re fourth place.”
Snorting, Dennis wryly guessed, “Right behind Mel?”
The man chuckled, “You know it. Anywho,” Jack segued into what he actually wanted to discuss, “I got this brother-”
“You have a brother?” Dennis blurted out, cutting the man off. Just when you think you know someone...
“Three, actually.” He clarified, “Four if you count the adopted asshole, and a sister too. Though she’s dead now, unfortunately.”
“Oh, uh, that’s-”
Jack spoke over his stuttering, blithely carrying on, “Anyway, my half-brother, Andrew, has recently gotten out of prison and needs a place to stay.”
Dennis stared blankly on ahead at the dark dirt road. The sun was a golden glow as it shone through the trees, but it was still dawn enough for his headlights to be on. “Neat?” He said, confused.
A heavy sigh, “Kid, you’re smarter than this.”
“Jack, I don’t think-”
“Listen, Dennis,” Came the attending’s exhausted response, “That side of the family is a mess. A criminal mess, in fact. Andrew got caught three years ago robbing a bank, and now he’s out. I would offer him to stay with me, but that’s the first place his mother would suspect.”
“So, I’m meant to be harbourin’ your fugitive half-brother from his criminal mother?” He deadpanned.
“He’s not a fugitive,” Jack protested, “Just an ex-convict.”
Dennis made a face, “Because that’s so much better.”
“Look,” The older man sighed, a hint of irritation building in his voice under the tiredness, “He’s rough around the edges, but he’s a good guy. It’s not his fault he was raised to do crime by our birth mother, and out of all of them, Andrew wants out the most. Just...I promised him you’d be able to give him an honest job-”
“Hang on, you’re talkin’ like he’s on his way here now!?” He couldn’t help exclaiming at the audacity of his former attending. It wasn’t actually that surprising, but damn he’d thought the man would have given him far more warning before springing his felon of a half-brother onto Dennis.
“Den-”
“Jack!”
“Okay, yeah, that’s a little unfair-”
“You think!?”
“Please,” Jack stressed, word weighed with grief and weariness, “He just needs a fucking chance. The world hasn’t given him many. I promise, he’s a good man. Very weird, definitely traumatised, and probably has undiagnosed OCD and anger issues, but he’s good. I swear.”
Unfortunately he was driving, so Dennis couldn’t ram his head against the steering wheel. Instead, he gripped it tight as he thought it all over. Then, taking a deep breath, Dennis admitted defeat. “If he murders me in my sleep, you’ll be paying for my funeral and providing compensation to my parents.”
“Deal. Oh, by the way,” Jack added, “He looks like me but about ten years younger. So, you’ll know him when you see him.”
“Great…” Dennis muttered weakly.
After exchanging quick goodbyes, Dennis was left in a heavy silence of his own making as he continued driving to the hospital on rote. If he hadn’t have made this drive many times over the past half-year, Dennis wouldn’t have been able to put his body on autopilot as he thought over his unexpected guest.
When Dennis had begun his third year of residency, his mama had called in a frantic state. His dad had had a heart attack. He was in the hospital and recovering fine, but mama had pleaded for Dennis to move back in order to help look out for the man. And, because he loved his parents deeply, Dennis had agreed. It had always been part of the plan for his life, to work in the hospital in Broken Bow once done with his residency. However, life didn’t always go the way you hoped it would, so he transferred over to Melham Medical Center earlier than expected.
It had a decent amount of departments for the rural setting, along with some fairly advanced specialty services. It may not be a massive city hospital, but it was still enough to keep Dennis engaged and interested in his work in the ED. The chief attending, Doctor Emilia Carson, had snapped him up the second his application hit her desk. According to her, they were in dire need of doctors with a large range of experiences within emergency medicine.
In fact, if things were heading in the right direction, Dennis might begin specialising in pediatric emergency medicine within the next month or so. He loved children and was called on frequently when there was a young patient in the ER because Dennis was good at keeping them relatively calm.
He had settled into his new work place fairly easily, in the end. The team was great, that usual mid-western kindness shining through that Dennis knew he had missed deep down when living in Pittsburgh. But he still wished he was working alongside the people from the Pitt. Trinity’s lack of presence was an ache; Dennis hadn’t realised how much he would have missed his abrasive roommate and best friend until there were hundreds of miles between them.
Dennis should probably call her.
On the rest of the drive to work, Dennis talked to a grumbling Trinity – having woken her up on a day off, whoops – about this bullshit Jack had thrown into his lap. The woman let out little grunts of acknowledgment as he rambled, before speaking up as he wound down enough to let her respond, “Sound’s like he’s either trying to get you killed or laid.”
Spluttering, Dennis denied, “He’s not trying to get-! Trinity. I’m going to have a strange man in my house! Who just got out of jail, in fact. I think that’s a little bit more important-”
“Jack is hot.” Trinity spoke over the top of him, “As a lesbian, even I can admit he’s attractive. And now he’s sending his brother who – according to the man himself – looks exactly like him but younger. So, Jack might be setting you up. Or is it some form of narcissism?” She added, wondering out loud to herself.
Taking a deep breath in to stop himself from screaming, Dennis prayed for patience. Of course, that was the conclusion she would jump to instead of something more logical. For example, Jack just pulling a massive favour from Dennis to help his brother out, trusting the younger man to not be judgmental or something. But Trinity had selective hearing when it came to teasing Dennis, so there was no getting through to her. Clenching his teeth, the man declared, “I’m going to ignore you forever. I hope you trip in front of Samira and embarrass yourself.”
A gasp, “Don’t you fucking curse me, Huckleber-”
He ended the call and put it on silent. Pulling into the hospital car park, Dennis found a spot. Once the Jeep engine huffed into silence, the doctor stared at nothing, his mind whirling over his new plans for the day. He would have to pick up some more groceries, talk to his parents about this new man that would be living on their property. At least they would be gaining another hand around the farm.
And on the bright side, with Dennis having his own little cabin to live in – a requirement he insisted on when moving back to Nebraska – he wouldn’t have to worry about his mama or dad asking too many weird questions. Then again, if Dennis was murdered in his own home, his body might not be found for days.
Exhaling heavily, Dennis grabbed his bag and climbed out of the car. What a great fucking start to a ten hour shift.
Unlike in the Pitt, the ER wasn’t overflowing with anxiously waiting patients. The wait times were pretty good, they were decently well-staffed, and Dennis liked to think he brought a certain kind of city efficiency when it came to going from case to case. Either getting the patients swiftly discharged or moved up to the appropriate department efficiently, he marked himself as a man who got the job done well.
Dennis wasn’t exactly too bothered about trying to be fast with his patients, mainly because he took to Samira’s way of caring for every case and enjoyed sitting and chatting with the patients when he could, having found her as another mentor in his second year. But everyone liked the idea of going some as soon as possible, so did not linger as long as the woman might have.
He had taken Robby’s words said to him on that first day to heart, and he was finding the balance in many different ways within his life now. Dennis still got affected when he lost a patient, but he tried his best to not let it weight too hard on him. It was progress. He knew he gave his all with every single one of them, no matter how benign the medical case was. It was just their time to go, it wasn’t his fault.
Mid-way through the day, as he snapped off bloody gloves after helping with the removal of a knife from a leg, Dennis checked his phone. Trinity had sent him a few teasing texts, which then changed into curses because she had, in fact, tripped in front of Samira and knocked over some equipment. The normally quick-footed doctor was mortified and obviously blaming him for it.
He grinned. The knowledge that he was still annoying his best friend, even in a different state, warmed his heart. Then, Dennis saw a voicemail from Jack.
Sighing, the young man found a quiet place to listen.
“Hey, Dennis. Hopefully you get this sooner rather than later, but if you could text me your exact address, that would be great. I just told Andrew to head towards Broken Bow yesterday. I meant to get the address earlier but, uh, our conversation went in a different direction...”
Snorting as he finished listening, Dennis shook his head and quickly fired off a text to Jack. Then, he pulled up a message from Robby. His mentor had sent a short text that read: Sorry about Jack. I swear I taught him better.
‘don’t lie, youre both terrible’
The door of the break room flung open, an intern frantic as she reported, “We’ve got a crush injury coming in five. Doctor Carson wants you.”
Sliding his phone away, Dennis was on the intern’s heels. The dilemma of Andrew shoved to the back of his mind.
The further he drove from the city of Broken Bow, the more Andrew got increasingly concerned about the place Jack sent him to. Granted, his older half-brother had never led him astray in the time they’ve known about one another, but Andrew still couldn’t stop the apprehension from it’s continual rising as the road became dirt, making the truck bounce as it drove along. He’d never been to the midwest and tried not to be surprised by the amount of fields and farms that he had driven past, but it was still a little jarring for the city-raised man.
The only reason he took Jack’s suggestion in getting out of Oceanside after prison was because the man actually called weekly and visited a few times in the three years Andrew was in there. Jack checked in, Jack asked how he was actually doing, Jack responded to any letters Andrew sent whereas Cath never did. The visits from his mother and brothers had petered out, but Jack stayed constant.
Someone, who hadn’t even known Andrew during his childhood, actually made the effort. And for that alone, Andrew trusted Jack. Even if a farm was the very last place he thought he would end up after taking his older brother’s suggestion. Which would mean Smurf wouldn’t even begin to guess where Andrew was at. So, he supposed Jack had a good idea in sending Andrew to Nebraska.
However, Andrew couldn’t ignore how his instincts were screaming at him to run back home, to protect his family, to listen to Smurf and receive her affection when he had done something right. The high of planning and executing a job. The rush of his blood during a fight. All of it was back home, and he ached to return. In fact, on his way to Nebraska, he had pulled over multiple times, nearly turning right back around where he knew his mother would welcome him back with a disappointed look but open arms.
It was the knowledge that he didn’t have even a room or house to return to, that made him hesitate. Andrew had to call Jack multiple times, allowed his brother to talk him back around to the idea of staying away from Oceanside. All his mixed feelings and divided loyalties were exhausting to handle, if he was being honest. But Jack had been adamant about Andrew leaving Oceanside.
‘It doesn’t have to be forever, Andrew. But leaving can offer a new perspective that I think you need. Getting out of your comfort zone can do you a world of good.’
Andrew was always uncomfortable, but Oceanside was at least familiar ground no matter what bullshit he was going through. The fear and uncertainty of struggling with existing in his own skin and fucked up brain away from his home was nearly suffocating. But Andrew was stubborn. He kept reminding himself of the lack of room. Of the lack of trust to be welcome back into jobs. Of Baz running the show and obviously Smurf deferring to him more than Andrew. Of barely anyone staying in contact with him in jail.
Of the lack of Julia.
His throat constricted, blinking rapidly as he stared out the window of his truck. She had died a few days before his release. Andrew had been so fucking close to seeing her again. The only person he could be around and never feel like had been made wrong, because she made up the other half of himself. He should have gone with her. He should have told her he loved her more-
Andrew sucked in sharp, short breaths, and forced his attention back on driving, swallowing back his grief. He had thrown out any possible tracking devices Smurf might had given him in the week he stayed with them after prison before taking up Jack’s suggestion. Knowing that Cath was completely icing him out meant that there was truly nothing in Oceanside that wanted him. His brothers were obviously doing fine without him, so Andrew didn’t feel too bad about cutting and running. At least, that was what he was thinking in order to convince himself to not run back home.
After spotting the wooden handmade sign pointing down a road declaring, ‘Whitaker Farm and Ranch’, Andrew took the turning, recalling Jack’s instructions. Once he spotted the buildings creeping into view, Andrew allowed himself a moment to observe it all in from a distance. It was summertime, so even with it being seven in the evening, there was enough light to shed on the place that was supposed to be safe.
The long drive way was bracketed with wooden fences on either side, cattle grazing on the right with some medium height plants growing in the other. Andrew wasn’t well-versed in farming produce to tell what the hell they were. They likely weren’t corn. He knew what corn looked like. Wasn’t Nebraska known for corn?
Of the buildings, there was a large classic red barn, another one but lacking in paint and looking more rickety. A white farm house with a wrap around porch and a shed close by, and a few other homes dotted about with their own yards in the distance of the surprisingly large property. There was plenty of trees and fields of long grass stretching across the rolling plains. It was idyllic. Glancing at his phone for the directions, Jack wrote: Take a left when you come to the white house, and it will be the green cabin towards the end.
Eyeing said white house, with its peeling paint and porch swing, he turned left. Doing so, Andrew couldn’t help the anxiety itching under his skin like a swarm of insects when he saw the lights on inside the homes, wondering who was staring at him. There must be people peeking out from their curtains, suspicious of the unfamiliar truck driving past their homes.
When he arrived at the green cabin, Andrew parked next to an old red Jeep and turned off the engine. He left the key in, the headlights illuminating the front porch as he tried to gather the unexpected nerves that had built up in the last few minutes. This was meant to be a friend and past colleague of Jack’s. A good impression was needed, especially for someone who was giving him a place to stay. He ran a hand through his short hair, giving it a tug. The pain was grounding enough to stay present even as questions swirled in his head. What had Jack told him exactly? Jack said he gave a brief explanation of his circumstances, but even Andrew knew that most people would be wary about a previous prisoner being in their home.
He dragged up the texts of what Jack had said about his colleague, scrolling through them. His name as Dennis Whitaker, he was a Doctor too. He was apparently kind and friendly. That was it. Andrew felt like it wasn’t enough of a descriptor for a strange man he would be living with. Cath was kind and friendly, but she obviously wanted nothing to do with him now. Julia was kind and friendly, but that didn’t stop her from spiraling into addiction. Baz had been kind and friendly, but he later on turned mean as they got older and more jaded.
In his hesitation and growing distress, the cabin door opened. A young man stepped out to the edge of the steps, leaning against the post of the porch railing, barefoot and dressed like he was ready to sleep. The flannel pants and thin shirt gave the man the most nonthreatening appearance that Andrew was able to gather himself and take the key out. If there was violence, Andrew would be able to handle it. He repeated that in his head; a comforting mantra.
Grabbing his duffle bag from the passenger seat, Andrew climbed out, door slamming loud in the quiet country evening. There was a faint rustle of a breeze drifting through the foliage around the cabin, birds singing their last tunes of the day, and a wooden wind chime swayed, tinkling a pleasant song from where it dangled from the porch rafters. He could hear farm animals in the distance. Everything smelt fresh and earthy, not a hint of sea salt in the air. It was oddly refreshing.
The cabin itself was with a classic pointed roof, two-story and with honest to God wooden shutters on the outside of the windows. There was even a brick chimney on the left side of the building. It was...peaceful. As far from a beach city as it could be.
After he finished taking it all in, Andrew approached the bottom of the porch steps, looking up at Dennis Whitaker.
Unassuming, was his immediate assumption. Tired, was his next observation. There was heavy bags under his large eyes. But everything about him did not scream violence and danger, and Andrew felt...not safe, but secure enough to not have to be overly cautious with this man. Hands stuffed in his pockets, Dennis gave a long glance over Andrew before offering a wry smile, “Well, Jack wasn’t wrong. You do look similar.”
Not knowing what to make of that observation, Andrew commented, “We’re half-brothers…”
“And genetics said you were meant to be twins.” Was the follow-up as Dennis pushed off from the wooden pillar to gesture his head towards the door, “C’mon, let’s get you settled. Must’ve been a long drive.”
Following the man inside, Andrew noted that he wasn’t some slip of a man. There was a strength to his shoulders and arms. Likely down to the farm work. A tan to his skin from hours in the sun, with hair dirty blond and curling, he was oddly pretty; a weird mix of masculine and feminine features. Andrew had a feeling his brothers wouldn’t have liked Dennis, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. He just knew if they ever met Dennis, they wouldn’t be nice.
Pulling his gaze from assessing the man, Andrew took in the interior of the cabin, unintentionally casing the place and searching for all the exits. The front door was on the right side, stepping into the kitchen with a dining table large enough to fit six if they squeezed. To the left was the living room, with an arm chair and sofa that did not match, facing the fire place, and a rocking chair in the corner; all with blankets and pillows covering the surfaces. A large bookcase stuffed full with books, knickknacks, and framed pictures. There was an old trunk used as a coffee table, more pictures on the mantel, and lacy white curtains over the windows. He could spy string lights lining the ceiling.
A hallway that was a straight shot to a back door was further back, and Andrew couldn’t see exactly what was there with it being dimly lit, but he was wager it had the staircase to the next floor, a bathroom, and maybe a laundry room. It was a similar-ish layout to some of the beach houses in Oceanside.
Finished cataloging the windows – one overlooking the front porch, one in the kitchen above the skin, and two either side of the fireplace – Andrew turned back to the other occupant of the cabin. Dennis was in the kitchen now, filling up a metal kettle and starting up the gas stove. It was an old stove, the kind Andrew hadn’t ever really seen before.
He kind of wanted to explore it.
“Do you want some tea?”
Andrew tore his gaze from the stove to where Dennis was now taking out some mismatched mugs – mismatched seemed to be the theme for the cabin, as even the dining chairs were all different wooden seats – and said, “Never really drank tea, ‘cept iced.”
Humming in acknowledgment, the man offered, “Maybe somethin’ to help for sleep? Though, with how long you drove, I’m sure you don’t need helpin’ with that.” And he gave a huff of laughter as he took out a tin. Two tea bags from it were plucked and plopped into the mugs.
Once finished, Dennis spoke up again, “C’mon, I’ll show you were you’ll be stayin’ while we wait for the kettle to heat up.”
A switch was flicked and the hallway was illuminated. To the right were two closed doors, Dennis saying, “You’ve got the laundry room, and the bathroom at the back. And that’s just a closet,” He added to the door under the stairs on the left. Trailing after him as they ascended, the layout was very simply one door on either side of a narrow landing, with two more windows: on the front and back of the cabin.
“This’ll be yours.” Dennis stated as he opened the door on the right. It was sparsely decorated, with a double bed covered in quilts and a duvet. Four pillows stacked and fluffed up, the cases had ruffle trim. There was a dresser, a wardrobe, a desk, and a few cardboard boxes piled in a corner. “Sorry about that,” He waved his hand towards them, stepping further into the room so Andrew could enter, setting his bag by the foot of the bed, “Still unpacking and haven’t found much place for them.”
“It’s fine,” Andrew assured, throat a little thick from the surprising generosity. There was clean towels piled on the dresser, a rug on one side of the bed, and a pair of slippers that had a tag still stuck on them. New. Clean. Welcoming. “Thanks.” He grunted out after a pause.
Dennis gazed at him thoughtfully, arms crossed. Andrew had been under inspection often throughout his life, like some bug for people to experiment on and judge. It never got easier to handle. However, Dennis’ attention wasn’t threatening exactly, though it did set Andrew on edge. His expression wasn’t critical, wasn’t derisive, and it wasn’t lustful. It was just...curious. And whatever conclusion Dennis came to, the man gave a tiny nod to himself and smiled, “I’ll come up with the tea when it’s done. Make yourself at home, you’re not goin’ to be a guest for long with the work we’ll be givin’ you. I don’t know just how long you want to be here, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”
Andrew couldn’t stop the disbelief racing through him, brows rising.
Not spotting his incredulous look, Dennis carried on as he started to leave the room, “I’ve told my family about you bein’ here, so they won’t go shootin’ you if they see you wanderin’ about. I’ll introduce you as they appear; we’ve got a big family on the farm.”
Nodding stiffly, Andrew murmured, “Thanks, again. It’s nice of you to do this.” The words felt stilted and insufficient in expressing just how astonished he was about the generosity from the younger man. Jack had mentioned that Dennis wasn’t even aware of Andrew’s arrival until that morning, so he was taking Andrew’s presence very well considering how last minute it was.
Giving a nonchalant shrug, hands stuffing into his pockets, Dennis gave him a kind smile, “Jack’s a friend, and you’ll find I’m a bit of a people-pleaser. So, I’m happy to help.”
And with a little nod as if he was satisfied with the conclusion of their conversation, Dennis left the room, closing the door behind him.
What a luxury. A door. Growing up he shared with Julia in their little room in the trailer, but had soon been moved into an actual house so it was a distant memory. He never had a door at the Cody compound, though. And a jail cell door didn’t offer much privacy either when you had a cellmate. For the first time in Andrew’s life, he had an actual bedroom door. One that did not need to be shared.
Looking down at the bed, Andrew traced the tiny floral print on the white cover of his duvet. The quilts were equally ‘girlie’, if he was using his brothers’ words; more flower fabrics in calming shades of blue, green, and yellow. Andrew kind of liked it, reaching out to play with the pillow case ruffles. Soft, delicate. Something he wasn’t but always wanted. It wasn’t harsh or boring. And with the rustic interior of the entire cabin, it fit well. Everything about the place was homey and welcoming. From the wooden walls and floors, to the hand woven rugs that had dotted about the place. There was no flaunting of wealth, no excessive gadgets bought only to be broken quickly, no drugs laying about, and it was clean. Perhaps not to Andrew’s exact standards, but it was good enough. Though his room might need another dusting.
Standing up, Andrew approached the window. Brushing aside the lace curtains and shoving the window frame up to let in the sounds of the far-stretching plains of the Nebraskan country side. Ducking his head out, Andrew could see the stars. You could see them a little in Oceanside, but you had to get out of the city to do so; too much light pollution. Breathing in the scent of nature for a moment, taking mossy and loamy scents of the farm, he could feel a knot in his chest unravel a little.
Pulling back after another few deep breaths, Andrew drew down the screen. Crickets were chirping along with the birds, and he couldn’t even find them annoying with how relaxing the entire atmosphere of the farm was. It was far from the meditative sounds of the sea rushing against the shore, but it was nice either way.
He sent off a text to Jack.
‘I’m here. He’s making me tea.’
Setting the phone to the side, Andrew began to unpack, neatly refolding his clothes before evenly spacing out piles in the dresser. The wood was lined with blue, thinly striped paper. Another touch of delicacy? Whimsy? Something that was far from Oceanside. Everything about the place was removed from any kind of memories of his home, and it was not as daunting anymore now.
Comforting, instead. The memories would not find him here easily.
His phone buzzed. Jack’s message read: Yeah, not surprised. He’s good people.
One last confirmation that Dennis was not a threat, and Andrew released a low exhale that dragged out the last of the lingering stress from his journey here. He was safe.