Chapter Text
It was work that could drive a person mad. Hollow eyes, twitching, even violent outbursts, there were few that could undertake the burden. Most animals saw an institution long before they saw retirement.
But if there was anyone who could handle Animal Corporation’s inventory management, it sure as hell was Ron From Accounting.
He had been at it all day, seamlessly calculating and entering numbers like it was second nature. His fingers glided across the keyboard as he reached to take another sip of coffee, shuddering from the awful taste. The black liquid had gone cold about half an hour ago, bringing out the bitterness. Good coffee was just another luxury you give up when accepting this job.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly releasing himself from the poisoning blue light of his
computer screen. It felt like he had started this shift days ago, but in all honesty he had no way of knowing. His cramped office had no windows, likely a deliberate choice by The Corporation to keep him from yearning for the outside. He did have one singular clock, but used all of his willpower to avoid looking at it. It was stupid, he knew it was stupid, but he hated thinking about how much time he spent this cursed building.
He took in a deep breath of the sterile hospital air, he couldn’t avoid it forever. Pushing the chair slightly away from the desk, he prepared himself to turn. It was like bracing for an impact; whatever numbers were on that screen could change his life (Or just slightly alter his mood).
Please be 11 o'clock, he prayed, crossing his fingers like a tween girl making a wish, PLEASE oh please be 11 o’clock!
He opened his eyes, feeling a small rush of adrenaline knowing that he could finally release himself from this torture.
8:07…
8 “three hours before his shift ended” :07
Ron groaned, throwing himself back in his chair, swiveling it into its original position. The built up exhaustion hit him like a truck, bringing his head down to his hands. He hadn’t taken a break since he went to bed the previous night, and he knew there was far too much work to be done for him to take his next one early.
Using every bit of strength he had, he forced himself up-right.
“C’mon Ron!” He exclaimed to himself, “Did they put you in-charge of inventory management because you half-ass things?”
He stared into the reflection of the dim laptop screen as if it were a mirror, attempting to hype himself up.
“Hell no!” He answered his own question, “They did it because you're the best at what you do!” he paused, “And because you have no prior history to mental health problems!”
He looked at himself for a few more moments, trying to spark anything within him, but all he really did was notice the large, dark bags under his eyes.
He sighed, placing his finger back on the keyboard. Each word he typed felt as though it drained more and more of his energy, to the point where even each individual character was a chore. His eyes grew heavy as he continuously pressed the space bar, struggling to remember his train of thought. Every time he blinked it took longer and longer for his eyes to reopen, until…
All at once everything went dark. Ron’s head slumped against the keyboard with a loud thud, creating a jumbled mess of letters before devolving into a string of H’s.
There was no way of knowing how long he laid face down at that desk, for all he knew he had slept into the next day. It’s not like he could really care, though, he was too far gone into dreamless bliss.
That was until he felt something grab his shoulder.
Ron jolted upright in a panic, his exhaustion clouding his judgement. He fully scrambled, feeling around his desk for the sharpest object he had, if this was an anomaly it was going to feel the wrath of his fountain pen. He pointed his makeshift weapon towards his would-be assailant, sleep still present in his eyes.
Doctor Harlow put his hands up as he stepped back, “My goodness, Ron, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Ron blinked, “Harlow?”
“Yes don’t worry, it’s just me,” He looked down at the pen, still gripped between the accountant's paws, “Unless, I was in fact your intended target? ”
“Jesus Christ, man!” Ron exclaimed, dropping the stationary onto the floor, “I could have stabbed the shit out of you!”
Harlow gave a small laugh, “It’s quite alright, with all of the unstable patients I’ve dealt with, you were hardly a scare.”
Ron averted his eyes, his face growing hot with embarrassment, “God, I must really be losing it…”
“The recent attacks have put us all on edge,” He reassured, “I’m sure I would have reacted the same.”
“Really?” Ron asked, looking up at him.
“Well, I would have selected a more effective weapon,” He admitted, picking the pen up off the ground, “But yes, I probably would have tried to ‘stab the shit out of you’, as you put it.”
Ron rolled his eyes, “Y’know for a doctor you’re pretty bad at comforting people,”
“Hm, says the one asleep at his computer,” Harlow shot back, “Pretty lousy for an accountant, wouldn’t you say?”
“Alright, do you have an actual reason for being in here, or did you wake me up just to tease me?” He asked, giving him a slight smirk.
“Huh, I didn’t realize I needed a reason to come see you,” he answered, “But I’m sorry for committing the offensive crime of checking on my co-worker.”
“Oh, be serious!” He gave him a small, playful nudge, “I know the ever so busy Doctor Harlow didn’t step away from his important work just to check on little ol’ me.”
Harlow sighed, a quiet laugh escaping him, “Well, if you really must know, I heard you talking to yourself from my office,” he conceded, “Which you always do right before you’re about to crash.”
Ron paused, shame creeping back onto his face as he registered what he was just told.
“You uhm-” he cleared his throat, “You heard that?”
“Ron, we work twelve feet apart and you talk at full volume, it’s more of a challenge to try to tune you out.”
The accountant buried his face in his paws, that sure was gonna be hard to recover from, wasn’t it?
“Look,” He began, trying to shake that off, “I appreciate the concern, but I just have a couple more things I need to do.” He turned his attention back towards the screen, feeling his stress bubble back up almost immediately, “I’ll be okay, I promise,” He tried to affirm, but the exhaustion in his voice was much too apparent.
Harlow didn’t respond, he simply leaned forward against the desk, peering over to see the dozens of tabs and obligations open on the screen. His arm lightly pressed against his own, and Ron couldn’t help but divert his eyes up in the doctor’s direction. He towered over the rabbit, making him feel small in his presence. With anyone else this probably would have intimidated him, but it was hard to feel that way around Harlow.
Harlow leaned back, the pressure on Ron’s arm still lingering for a few moments before dissipating.
“I’ll tell you what,” he began, placing a hand on the back of Ron’s chair, “How about you just go home early tonight?”
“Really?” He questioned, feeling it was too good to be true.
“Sure, why not? I wouldn’t want to keep you from any evening plans you might have.”
Ron looked to the side, “Yeah…plans…” If you could call drinking half a bottle of wine and falling asleep to a romcom ‘plans’, then he supposed he did.
“Look, I would love to, but I’m already so behind on my work and I really don’t need the boss tearing me a new one.”
The Boss had certainly been getting more strict lately, and the last time Ron was berated he walked out of his office in tears. Safe to say he didn’t exactly want to experience something like that again.
“Hm…” Harlow thought for a moment, rapping his fingers on the back of the chair, creating a rhythmic sound, “Well, why don’t I just finish up your work for you.”
Ron blinked up at him, now that definitely sounded too good to be true.
“Are you sure?” He inquired, “There’s like, a lot of stuff.”
“Is there now?” Harlow raised an eyebrow, “Don’t think I can handle it?”
“No no, it’s not that!” Ron paused, “… maybe a little bit.”
“Wow… I can’t believe you don’t trust me with your precious spreadsheets.” Harlow placed his hand over his heart in a fake dramatic motion, “I’m hurt, Ron, so very hurt.”
“I just have a system!” He proclaimed, “And you don’t know the software like I do!”
“Please, we’ve worked together for almost a decade now, I think I have a good understanding of how you like things done.”
“But you don’t know all the short cuts!” Ron continued to argue “Or even what half of the controls do for that matter.”
“I managed to obtain three medical degrees, I think I can figure out Excel.”
“But-”
“Ron,” Harlow said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Just let me do this for you, please?”
He hesitated, feeling his stress levels fall ever so slightly from the doctor’s touch. It did sound nice, and he did really want to go home.
“I just don’t know…”
“Look, I won’t submit anything to anyone until you’ve had the chance to look over it fully and criticize it via a strongly worded email,” He offered, lowering himself to be on Ron’s level, “Sound good?”
Ron let out a defeated sigh, “Fine, you win.” He stood up from the chair, grabbing his brief case that was laying next to him. “You really are stubborn, aren’t you?”
“You’re one to talk,” Harlow retorted, taking his place at the desk.
Ron made his way over to the door, “Just please don’t delete any of my tabs!”
“Of course.”
“And don’t move anything on my desk! I have it all in a specific place!”
“I understand.”
“And-”
“Ron,” Harlow interrupted, “Please, just have a good evening.”
The accountant drew in a deep breath, “Thank you, Harlow, I really do appreciate it.”
Harlow simply nodded as he turned his attention to the screen in front of him, focusing intently.
Ron closed the door behind him, feeling a massive weight being lifted from his shoulders. He couldn’t remember the last time he left the office before 11:00, was this how people with 9 to 5’s felt?
He made his way down the long, quiet hallway, his footsteps echoing off the walls as he walked. The silence allowed his mind to wander, going over the interaction he had just had like it was play-back footage.
Why had he just done that for him? There was no way he didn’t have work of his own to be done. If there was anyone The Boss liked to overwork in this corporation, it was Harlow.
He was so insistent too, he had that look in his eyes he only gets when he’s determined about something. When half of someone's face is almost always obscured, you learn to rely a lot on their eyes. That glint was unmistakable, he had seen it almost a million times. They were also soft, like the look he has when he’s soothing a patient. But what did that mean for him? Was he going to have to stare at the doctor to try and get an answer? How silly did that sound! Him looking deeply into his dark, brooding, warm-
“Um, Ron?” A voice cut through the silence, breaking his train of thought.
“Huh?” Ron turned to the source of the speech, and was greeted by the concerned face of the Secretary, “Sorry, what was that?”
“I just told you to have a good evening,” They repeated, raising an eyebrow, “Are you feeling alright?”
Ron blushed, he was 0 for 3 on embarrassing himself today, “Yes I’m fine don’t worry, just thinking about… work.” Not exactly true, but definitely in the ball park.
“If you say so, man,” They said, not looking fully convinced, “You just seemed like you were off in another world.”
“Oh well y’know,” He stammered, “Long hours and stuff, really fries the brain!”
He was sweating, why was he sweating? It’s not like he had something to hide.
“Right…” Secretary narrowed their eyes, “Well, we have you on the books for a check-up anyway, just, take care of yourself, okay?”
Ron nods, his face still hot “Thank you, Secretary, have a safe rest of your shift,”
Secretary waved in acknowledgement as Ron made his way towards the glass doors. The cool evening air hit his face, only being slightly colder than the frigid hospital. Though, Ron couldn’t help but notice how warm he was in spite of the cool temperatures .
He sighs, maybe he was coming down with something after all.