Work Text:
For the first time in his life, Dennis has time.
He no longer wakes up at dawn like he did growing up on his parents' farm. He's no longer a stressed out med student trying to pass his exams while working multiple part-time jobs. Even his weekends are free now that Amy is back on her feet (and after Dennis finally admitted to himself that he needs to be better about boundaries).
They still keep in touch, but Amy mostly relies on her family and childhood friends whenever she needs help. She even connects with a man she meets at church, and though she’s not ready to start dating yet, Dennis can tell she has a crush by the way she speaks about him.
Dennis feels like he has whiplash: how do you go from constantly grinding your whole life to make sure your loved ones are taken care of and that you have a roof over your head (and sometimes, miserably failing at that) to having hours on end every week with no obligations— with no metaphorical fires to put out?
His nana used to quote, "Idle hands are the devil's workshop", which Dennis always understood was her way of saying that it was important to stay busy and out of trouble. Now it takes on a different meaning for him— because the stillness in his new life should be peaceful, but instead it just makes Dennis anxious.
He starts seeing a therapist, and it does help to talk to someone and untangle the complicated reasons why Dennis thrives in chaos, and maybe has even grown attached to that chaos despite the ironic lifelong effort to find some sort of stability.
Trinity simply says, "Get a life, Huckleberry. Damn." And that's weirdly just as helpful.
So Dennis ignores the urge to fill his free time with more work— he only works overtime if necessary, and he even limits his volunteer hours at the women's shelter to one weekend per month —and takes Trinity's advice to find something to do just to do, just for enjoyment's sake.
Which for him, means: birdwatching.
He misses nature, okay? And birds are super fucking cool. Trinity absolutely makes fun of him for it, especially when he starts wearing a bucket hat on his weekly hikes. But she would just be equally mocking if he got a sunburn, so he might as well just embrace his dorkdom.
He really doesn't care, though, because he's having fun and he's excited to go on his first guided tour that the local branch of the Audubon Society organizes. It's unsurpising that a majority of the other people on the tour are retired, but there are a few around his age. Not that it matters— it's nice connecting with a bunch of new people he likely wouldn't have otherwise met, like the couple who worked as professional translators for over twenty years and the undergrad majoring in ecology at Dennis's alma mater.
What is surprising, however, is that Robby is here.
It's jarring to see him outside of the Pitt, wearing a faded Steelers baseball cap and carrying a travel-size birdwatching journal. He's been back from his sabbatical for a while now, and though he'd been vague about exactly what he got up to during his time off, Dennis noticed he looked a little less haunted when he returned.
"Dr. Robby, hi," Dennis greets with a little wave.
"Dr. Whitaker," Robby says back, looking just as surprised— and maybe a little embarrassed. But he smiles, manhandling Dennis into a hug. "Good to see you."
"You too. I didn't know you were into this sort of thing," Dennis says, gesturing with his own notebook. It has a sketch of a chickadee on the cover.
Robby smirks. "It's a recent development. My therapist not-so-gently suggested that I needed to have a healthier routine outside of work, including hobbies. And she did not like when I suggested joining Abbot on his SWAT team escapades."
"Yeah, that doesn't exactly sound relaxing."
"I don't think I've known what relaxing has felt like since 1994."
"Same."
"How old were you then? Five?"
"Yup. The first time I saw a cow give birth. Never been the same since."
Robby laughs. "Jesus."
Dennis grins. He likes the sound of Robby's laugh, the way he smiles with his whole face. Before he can continue their conversation, and maybe figure out how to get Robby to laugh some more, the naturalist guide calls for everyone's attention to begin the tour.
The walk is on a nature preserve just twenty minutes outside of Pittsburgh. It's a beautiful oasis full of lush greenery, a large pond, and— of course —lots of wildlife. Dennis is proud that he's already getting the hang of recognizing the sounds of certain birds, and is fascinated by all the knowledge the naturalist rattles off at the top of her head.
Toward the end of the tour, as everyone quietly cooes at the sight of a vibrant indigo bunting, Dennis spots Robby gazing at a couple of turkey vultures perched together on an oak tree.
"I've always liked them," Robby says, nodding up at the birds. "Some people think they're ugly or creepy, but I think they're sort of elegant. And they're an important part of the ecosystem. Of the life cycle."
Dennis nods. He scribbles in his notebook.
May 16, 2026
10am
2 turkey vultures at Beechwood Preserve (Robby's favorite bird?)
"Memento mori," Dennis quips, elbowing the spot where Robby's shoulder tattoo is hidden under his sweatshirt.
Robby snorts. "I'm sort of predictable, huh?"
"Not at all," Dennis smiles. "You're way bigger of a nerd than I ever expected."
Robby brings a rough hand to the back of Dennis's neck and steers them back toward the rest of the group. "That's enough out of you, Whitaker."
As the naturalist wraps up the tour and everyone says their goodbyes, Robby and Dennis walk together to the parking lot. "You need a ride?" Robby asks.
Dennis shakes his head. "Nah. I borrowed Trinity's car. She’s spending the weekend at Yolanda's."
Robby hums, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, next time we should just carpool."
Dennis blinks. "Next time?"
Robby nods. "You going to the tour at Succop later this month?"
"Oh, uh— yeah. I am. That would be great. I mean, if you don't mind driving."
"Wouldn't offer if I did."
"Cool, well. See you Monday?"
"Bright and early."
So that's how Dennis and Robby became birdwatching buddies.
They went to guided tours together about once a month, and even went on solo walks just the two of them if there was a park or hiking trail that interested them. Their text thread was full of photos of birds they'd spot on their lunch breaks, or links to interesting articles about the local wildlife. Dennis's notebook was quickly filling up with all the entries of the birds he saw on his little outings with Robby.
May 31, 2026
10am
Succop Nature Park
American Goldfinch — kept flying and chirping around me and Robby, like it was showing off.
June 13, 2026
11am
Rodef Shalom Biblical Botanical Garden
European Starling — very pretty. Its coloring reminds me of the rainbow sheen of an oil slick. Just me and Robby today. He and his grandma used to come to this garden when he was a kid. It's lovely.
June 28, 2026
10am
Buffalo Creek Nature Park
House Finch — love the rosy red color of its chest and the top of its head. The tour guide recognized Robby from the Pitt, had come in as a scared teenager who had fainted at the mall a few years ago. Turned out to be a seizure condition triggered by flourescent lighting. He asked us both out for beers after the tour. It was sweet.
July 4, 2026
9am
Three Rivers Heritage Trail
American Crow— I know they're nothing special, but I've always loved crows. They're such smart creatures, and incredibly social. It feels like a good omen whenever I see one. It's just me and Robby again today. It feels special— it's been nearly one year exactly since his sabbatical. That had been a rough day. He's been quieter than usual, probably still remembering all the shit that went down just like I am.
The entries went on and on, as did Dennis and Robby's outings. Eventually the outings were accompanied with going out for breakfast or lunch, depending on the timing, and then one day Dennis realized he was spending more time with Robby than anyone else, outside of Trinity.
After a hike at Settlers Cabin Park on a crisp autumn morning, Robby drives them to a Pamela's Diner for a late breakfast. They gulp down mugs of black coffee and share huge plates of hotcakes and chorizo hash.
"Still planning on going into rural medicine?" Robby asks out of the blue.
Dennis frowns. "I don't know."
"It's a worthwhile endevour. Like you said— it's harder for folks in the countryside to get reliable, accessible healthcare. What's keeping you here?"
"I don't want to leave," Dennis admits. "I like living with Trinity. I like Pittsburgh. I like the Pitt."
Robby nods. "I was the same as you when I was your age. My goal was to work with MSF. I did do an assignment with them, but…" He sighs. "For better or worse, I belong in the Pitt."
Dennis nods. "Exactly."
"Don't feel too guilty," Robby grins, gently kicking his foot under the table. "You're still saving lives."
Dennis shrugs. "I guess so."
Robby rolls his eyes, more affectionate than annoyed. "You're too humble for your own good, Whitaker."
"Maybe I'm just picking up your slack."
"Oy. I'm plenty humble."
"If you count self-hatred as humble, sure."
Robby laughs. "You're kind of a secret asshole, you know that? You look sweet, but you're really a dick."
"You think I look sweet?" Dennis teases.
"Yes," Robby says, than flags down the waitress to top off his coffee like they're having a normal conversation.
"You like turkey vultures," Dennis blurts. "I like crows."
Robby raises his eyebrows. "Yes?"
"Kind of funny, don't you think?" Dennis says with a sheepish smile. "It's like we're two sides of the same coin."
"Sounds like a mixed metaphor to me," Robby comments, his lips twitching in amusement.
"Not really. Technically, it's symbolism and an idiom working in tandem."
"Okay, Dr. English Major."
"I studied theology in undergrad, actually."
"I know. I was being facetious."
"I know. I was being a smartass."
"Yeah. Seems to be an ongoing motif with you."
Dennis feels himself flush, and smiles down at his half-eaten meal. He's incredibly full— those hotcakes are no joke, and he's buzzing from the caffeine —but he doesn't want their time together to end.
Robby must feel the same, because though he does ask the waitress for to-go boxes, he says, "Want to walk it off?"
Dennis nods, maybe a little too eagerly.
So after they fight for the check— Robby wins by sliding his credit card to the waitress when Dennis is in the bathroom, the cheater —they walk along the river slowly and attentively, pausing when they see or hear a bird.
"Northern cardinal."
"Yeah. And a titmouse."
"Nah, that's a catbird."
"Shit, you're right."
They pause when they approach a vacant wooden bench across from the ballpark. Robby knocks their shoulders together as they take a seat. "For the record, I'm glad you want to stay at the Pitt."
"Yeah?"
"Of course. You're a good doctor, Whitaker."
Dennis smiles. "Well, I'm glad you decided to stay, too. And you seem… better. I know it's not my place to say, but I was worried there for a while."
Robby snorts. "Yeah, you weren't the only one. But thanks."
"Y'know…" Dennis hesitates before pressing on. "Trinity says we act like an old married couple. Birdwatching together and eating at shitty diners and teasing each other about dumb stuff."
"Hey. Pamela's isn't shitty."
Dennis huffs out a laugh. "You know what I mean."
"Is that what you want?"
"What?"
"To be a couple."
Dennis stares at him, and Robby stares right back. A stand-off.
"I haven't thought about it," Dennis admits.
Robby sighs and nods, as if that was the answer he's expected.
"Not because I don't want it," Dennis says hurriedly. "But because I didn't really think it was possible."
"Because of work?"
"No. I mean, yeah— but no. Because you're you, and I'm me. I'm not exactly your type, am I?"
"Maybe," Robby says. He's fidgeting like he can't sit still for this conversation. "Maybe that's a good thing."
Dennis frowns. "I don't want to be your midlife crisis experiment, Robby."
Robby whips his head to face Dennis full-on so fast it looks like it hurt. "That's not what I fucking meant, Whitaker."
"Then what did you mean?"
"I meant that you're special, okay? I like you and you make me feel good and I want to make you feel good, too."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Dennis swallows. "Um. Likewise."
Robby exhales a laugh. "Can I just fucking kiss you already?"
"Not in front of the children," Dennis jokes, gesturing to the ducklings waddling along the waterfront.
"Oh shut the fuck up," Robby says, and presses their lips together.
Dennis kisses back eagerly, gripping onto Robby's wrist where Robby has a hand cupping Dennis's cheek. He's never had a first kiss that was simultaenously so overwhelming yet so comforting.
"Next weekend," Robby whispers in between lignering kisses. "I'm taking you on a proper date to the National Aviary."
Dennis moans, and it's only somewhat performative. Robby presses his face against Dennis's neck and laughs. Dennis laughs along, wrapping his arms around Robby's middle. As Robby kisses his throat, Dennis notices a chunky turkey-like bird trotting by.
October 24, 2026
2pm
Point State Park
Ruffled Grouse— state bird. I'm in love with Robby.