Chapter Text
The rodeo had a big crowd tonight.
The stands were filled with close to two hundred people, most of which being local residents or travellers that like to watch the action, and they roared as music played across the small stadium. At this current moment in time, they had barrel racers out in the arena. While it wasn't as popular as the bull or the bronco riding, it was sure as hell fun to watch those horses curve around those barrels like they weren't massive creatures that people used to ride into battle. The announcer was loud across the arena as he narrated each race, and cheering was intermittent from the stands when each kid finished.
Dennis Whitaker was watching the events from the top of the hospital ambulance, his eyes peeled as he watched his little cousin, Anna, wrangle her horse, Stardust, around the last and final barrel. Anna was small and petite like her mother, but she controlled that horse like the back of her hand better than anyone else. Dennis watched as Stardust's hooves kicked up dirt as she rounded the last barrel and kicked off down the way before Anna slowed her down by rearing her reins up. They were both panting like they were one being, something every person and their horse experienced, and Anna patted Stardust's neck with a big smile on her face as the crowd cheered. The announcer congratulated her on her ride, said her score from the judges, and the crowd erupted into louder cheers as the score was read out to be very high. Anna trotted her horse toward the exit gate while waving at her parents, who were Abraham, Jr. and Patty Whitaker. Dennis looked up from Anna toward his oldest brother, his chest suddenly a little tight, and he tried to ignore the sight of him in favor of observing his smaller cousins. They were clapping with their small chubby hands and whistling for their older sister. Anna was his brother's pride and joy for this event, and she stood equal ground to her older brother, John, who was the up-and-coming teen roping champion. Anna then looked from her parents toward Dennis on the ambulance, and she waved harder than before with a toothy grin spread across her face. Dennis waved back with a large smile on his face. He'd promised her ice cream if she rode well and it looked like he owed her two scoops of chocolate at Twisty's tomorrow afternoon after school.
Once Anna exited the arena with Stardust, Dennis returned his attention to the brightly lit space before him. Thankfully, nobody had been hurt so far during tonight's rodeo, which seemed like a miracle. All the horses and riders had remained intact with all bones and limbs free from injury, but Dennis knew he couldn't speak too soon before the bull and bronco riding portion of the night began. Those events, while the most anticipated, made Dennis queasy every time he watched them as both a paramedic and a farm hand. He anticipated every bad thing to happen during the eight seconds that the rider sat on top of those fiery beasts, and he never could breathe during each ride. Dennis could remember when he'd been on call for one rodeo and while watching the bull riding, he'd watched a boy from high school get thrown off so fast and hard that his neck had snapped when he hit the arena's ground. Then, the bull had placed a hoof on his chest and cracked his ribs apart. The sound and sight of it had been so sickening across the stadium that they stopped everything immediately, and didn't hold another rodeo for months after. When they did host the next one, every single rider had been so anxious when sitting on their bulls or their broncos that all of them almost flunked their events. It had taken at least two more rodeos after that for everything to return to a semi-normal state of affairs, but that boy's memory lived on at every rodeo since then. They even renamed the arena after him.
Even though every rider lived in fear of their lives, apparently they also lived for the thrill and the fear. His older brother, Jeremiah, had explained to him one day when he was ten that when sitting on that bull or that bronco, you feel as alive as a bird flying free. Those eight seconds feel like eight years, and Jeremiah said that it makes you cherish what life you have in those eight seconds every time. Dennis also knew that Jeremiah liked rollercoasters, so maybe he was just an adrenaline junkie who didn't represent the whole.
Dennis’ thoughts were interrupted by a loud buzzer ringing out over the arena as they transitioned the entertainment of the evening toward the riding portion. The announcer said that the bulls would go first, then the broncos, and Dennis watched the lineup of riders form by the side of the arena. The bull for tonight, Black Teddy, was being pulled into his small pinned space by a few of the rancher boys that supplied the bulls for the rodeos. He was thrashing, already ready for a good fight, and it took a few minutes for the boys to wrangle him into his pen. Once they shut him in, Dennis watched the first rider, a kid named James Robbes, plop himself down onto the bull's back and prepare himself for what could be the last day of his life. When the buzzer sounded, they let the bull free.
Most of the riders didn't last the full eight seconds, with at least four of them falling off around four or five seconds. Dennis had craned his neck to watch every second of each ride to make sure that when the rider fell, he was able to see how they did so. The last thing he needed was another Chris Troops out in that arena. Once every rider got up, Dennis felt himself relax a little. If his younger brother Paul was here, he would've told him that he needed to fucking relax. But, Dennis could never relax while sitting on the ambulance and waiting for the ball to drop - it felt almost derogatory to be so careless while an active death risk played out in front of him.He’d sworn when he'd gotten this uniform that he'd do his best to help, and so he was going to strain his neck ten ways to Sunday to make sure he could see if someone got hurt.
Dennis’ anxiety swelled when he saw his third older brother Jeremiah climb up the fence to get on the bull. Like Anna, he was the last rider of the event, the big fish that everyone wanted to see. He was hyped up to be the best rider in the state of Nebraska, and Dennis believed he really was. He'd won rodeo after rodeo since he was a teenager, and he'd even competed at a big Texas rodeo a few years ago. Dennis watched Jeremiah settle himself on the bull and he saw how he gripped the rope with his gloved hands and looked up toward the sky, doing what Dennis knew was a small prayer. His head moved down after a few seconds, cowboy hat shielding his face, and even from far away, Dennis could almost feel the determination on his brother's face and the need for him to win. Dennis knew that if Jeremiah won this event, he'd win a few thousand dollars - which he'd put right into his small cattle ranch outside of town and into Dennis’ savings account.
When the buzzer sounded, the bull took off into the arena, even more fired up after five previous riders. He gave Jeremiah hell, trying every which way to throw him off, but Jeremiah rode firm as the clock ran. His teeth were clenched as his attention focused on keeping his balance and the world fell away for the seconds he was on that bull. It was him and this beast under those hot, bright lights, and no one else. Time felt slow like molasses and Jeremiah could feel every heartbeat in his throat as he counted each second in his head. When his internal counting hit eight, Jeremiah let go of the rope and dove to get off of the bull in just enough time to avoid getting kicked. He had a quick recovery after landing in the dirt and Jeremiah rushed to put his hat back on before turning to the roaring crowd.
Dennis cheered from atop his ambulance for Jeremiah as he walked across the arena and climbed the fence to get out. He was definitely going to be sore tomorrow, but it was nothing a little ice and whiskey couldn't fix. Dennis climbed his way down from his perch as Jeremiah walked to the rig and he rushed forward to give his brother a big hug. He didn't even care about the dirt rubbed all over Jeremiah's vest and pants as he hugged him. Jeremiah was laughing, patting Dennis’ back, and then rubbing his head with his knuckle.
“You did great!” Dennis said, looking up at Jeremiah with starry eyes. He'd always been so proud of his older brother, more than he'd ever admit. “Are you hurt?”
“No, no,” Jeremiah brushed a hand down over his vest, kicking off some residual dirt. “But you know how it is when you hit the ground that fast.”
Dennis pouted his lip and sighed. “Make sure to ice anything, okay? Take an ibuprofen and don't mix it with alcohol!”
Jeremiah just laughed, but his eyes were soft as he looked down at Dennis. Dennis had been a paramedic for almost a year now, but he'd been in training for a few years before that. He was probably the smartest person here and even talking about ice and ibuprofen made him sound like a scholar to a simple man like Jeremiah.
“I got it, Denny,” Jeremiah teased while rubbing Dennis’ head again. Dennis’ ears turned red at the nickname and he tried to hide his grin. Jeremiah had called him that for as long as he could remember, but it still made him a little embarrassed. “You go watch those bronc riders, then come over for dinner, okay?”
Dennis nodded his head and gave a thumbs up to Jeremiah. He earned another pat on the head before Jeremiah began to slightly limp away toward his truck. Dennis tried to pretend that he hadn't noticed it, but he was definitely going to chastise Jeremiah about it at dinner.
Soon enough, another buzzer rang out and it was time for the bronco riders to start their event. Dennis squeezed himself through the crowd just enough to where he could watch from the fence line and keep a better eye on the riders. The horses were smaller than a bull and could move much faster, making this event even more nerve wracking for Dennis to watch. He'd seen far too many hooves to the face or chest to be comfortable at all around these bronco events.
It took Dennis a moment to get himself settled on the fence, but once he was, his eyes were locked in on the arena. The lineup was made up of just five riders, with most of them being younger men around Dennis’ age. They were experienced enough, but had nowhere near the same experience as the bull riders. Dennis felt that most of them would be lucky to even last five seconds on the horse of the night, Lucky Strike. Lucky Strike was one of the veteran riding broncos owned by Old Man Reed, and he was a notoriously nasty ride for someone who couldn't hold on right. Dennis had seen someone get thrown off a few years ago so hard that he'd busted a few teeth out of his mouth and had to have his jaw fixed.
The first few riders did as Dennis had expected - bad. The first two had fallen off within three seconds, the third and fourth barely lasting to six seconds. None of the boys had landed badly though, so Dennis felt relieved that he hadn't had to climb over the fence yet and run across the arena with his emergency pack. Many of the boys did limp their way out of the arena, so Dennis made a mental note to call them tomorrow morning and check in on them. He really didn't want one of them to have a sprain or puncture that they didn't notice because of their adrenaline.
When Dennis was momentarily distracted by a text message on his phone, he heard the name of the last rider called out across the arena. The sound of it made his head snap up from his phone.
It was Jack Abbot.
He was a newcomer to town, just barely moved in about six months ago from Wyoming, and also happened to be Jeremiah's new friend at the bar. Dennis had passively seen him around Jeremiah's ranch before in the early morning, as well as at the previous rodeos. He was also the Whitaker farm's ruggedly handsome and cocky next door neighbor, whom Dennis had definitely not watched move hay bales for his horses a few times in the late evening. Out of all things, he'd never expected him to be a bronc rider - but maybe that made sense as to how he and Jeremiah were such good friends.
Dennis had little time to react to his own feelings about Jack Abbot after the name call before Jack was sent out into the arena on Lucky Strike. The horse reared and kicked, shaking Jack around almost like a ragdoll, but the older man remained steadfast on Lucky Strike. He was biting his lip, grinning, and had his arm in the air in the most stereotypical pose Dennis had ever seen as the bronco bucked. Jack looked like he was having fun, and it reminded Dennis of how Jeremiah looked when he was on that bull. Yeah, he definitely understood how they were friends now.
The younger man gripped the fence as Jack continued to hold on to the horse, who was growing even more fierce the longer the rider stayed on his back. He had two seconds before he had to drop and Dennis realized how close to the arena edge Jack and the horse were at the very last second. Dennis felt that when Jack was going to fall, he was very likely going to hit his leg on the fence and be in a world of hurt.
Just as Dennis had expected, Jack had pushed himself off at the eight second mark and proceeded to smack his whole body against the fence that Dennis was standing on. Dennis felt Jack's head hit one of the beams and saw how Jack's leg folded all too wrong underneath him when his body slumped against the fence. The announcer made a comment of concern and a gasp rang out across the arena.
Acting on instinct, not even caring about the very wild horse still in the arena bucking around, Dennis pushed himself over the fence like he'd done a million times and landed right next to Jack. All he could think about was making sure that Jack hadn't damaged his spine, given himself a TBI, and totally broken a leg. Dennis’ hands cradled Jack's face, checking for a pulse.
“C'mon,” Dennis hissed as he checked over Jack's body and then tapped his cheek. He could hear the horse huffing behind him, crying out and rearing when the wranglers tried to rope him, and it made Dennis try to work faster. He seriously didn't need a hoof to the back of the head either, or to be trampled. “Jack, damn it, c'mon! Wake up!”
Finally, after a moment of silence, Jack made a croaking sound as his eyes squeezed together in pain. The sound grew into one of pain and one of his shaking hands came up to touch the blood that was coming from the back of his head. His eyes peeled open to look at his bloody hand, but Jack found that he was seeing double and his hearing was muffled. He could barely hear Dennis talking, and didn't even understand what was going on for at least half a minute before the pain seemed to dawn on him.
Dennis looked back at Lucky Strike, who was still far too close for comfort, and then looked back at Jack. He was cradling his head, keeping his neck straight, and Dennis made sure to keep Jack's eyes on him. His pupils were reactive, which was good. When Jack tried to grumble out something, Dennis soothed him.
“You had an accident, okay?” Dennis explained. “You hit your head and your leg is hurt pretty bad too. We need to get you to the hospital, Jack.”
Jack's eyes rolled around for another second before they focused just enough on Dennis’ face. He realized that he recognized Dennis, that he was the neighbor kid and Jeremiah's cute younger brother. Despite all his pain and with all his induced delusion, Jack gave a very meek smile. “Denny?”
Out of all things Jack had to say, it had to be that. Dennis sighed, almost laughing out of shock. Did this guy get his nickname from Jeremiah, or was he just a weirdo?
“Yeah, yeah, it's me,” Dennis nodded. His eyes then moved to look for his partner, who was fighting the crowd to get to the arena gate with the gurney. He looked back at Jack. “Do you feel like you need to sleep?”
Jack didn't seem to hear Dennis as he kept squinting up at him. He was seeing double, his vision blurred by all the lights, and he could still barely focus on Dennis’ face. Instead, he asked, “Am I in heaven?”
It was a stupid question that made Dennis burst out a laugh without much second thought. Out of all the craziness happening around them, Jack Abbot just had to ask if he was in heaven. It was the stupidest and silliest thing that Dennis had ever been asked, and yet some weird part of him was charmed that his brother's friend thought that Dennis looked like heaven. He also thought it was dangerous for him to feel that way about it, so Dennis pushed away how it made his ears warm and focused back on Jack.
“No, sir, this is not heaven,” Dennis chuckled as he replied. “You're at the Broken Bow Rodeo. Unless you think this place is heaven.”
A grumble came from Jack and he tried to roll his head in a dramatic gesture, but he was stopped by Dennis’ firm grip on his neck. Dennis ignored that grumble in favor of looking over Jack's leg. He didn't see a bone visibly poking out, but it definitely looked broken in some capacity. They'd likely need to fly him down to the hospital in Lexington just to make sure he didn't have any serious injuries that Dennis couldn't see from here. As Dennis poked Jack's thigh carefully, he heard the shout from his partner telling him that he was coming with the gurney. The gurney moved through the arena dirt with some trouble, but Trevor had been able to get it to Dennis and Jack in no time. While he was moving toward the pair, a set of wranglers got their ropes around Lucky Strike's neck and began to steer him toward the corral so he wouldn’t be a danger to anyone else. Once he was put into the pen, Dennis felt himself relax a smidge. One obstacle out of the way, a million more to go.
When Trevor arrived to Dennis and Jack, he laid down the flat back-board by Jack's feet and bent down to assess Jack himself. He pursed his lips before sighing. “Alright, you need to lie him down onto the back board. Keep his neck supported as I try to wrangle him down.”
Dennis nodded to Trevor's commands and readjusted himself in the dirt so Trevor could somewhat carefully manhandle Jack from his sitting position into a horizontal position. Jack was groaning in pain as he was moved, and he yelped as Trevor moved his leg. Dennis knew then that it was definitely injured. He kept a close eye on Jack's pant leg and chaps to see if any blood was making itself apparent as Trevor straightened the leg out, and then Dennis was surprised to see a prosthetic leg appear in Trevor's hand. Trevor pumped his eyebrows up in surprise and then placed it on top of Jack’s body for what Dennis assumed to be crude safe-keeping. Okay, so Jack was injured on a previously injured leg, that wasn't exactly amazing. When Jack tried to fight Trevor off in some pain-induced adrenaline rush at the movement of his leg, Dennis snapped a finger in front of his face.
“We're trying to help you, Jack,” Dennis said sternly. “You have an injured leg. We need to get you to Lexington.”
Jack seemed to relax after Dennis talked to him, for a reason that Dennis didn't really understand, and he slumped into Trevor's arms as he was moved to the board. Dennis kept his hand steady on Jack's neck until Trevor put the brace on it. Once the brace was on, Dennis worked to get Jack strapped to the board before moving himself to be at the foot of the board. Trevor gave Dennis a nod before they moved to pull the board up. Thankfully, after years of practice on both the farm and the job, Dennis found the lifting to be easy. The two men slid the board onto the gurney with ease and then moved to tighten the gurney straps over Jack's body.
Once Dennis had Jack all strapped in, he finally paid attention to what was going on around him. The crowd in the stands were full of anxious people, all essentially standing on their toes, trying to make sure that Jack was okay. The announcer said to the crowd that the night was finished and that he wished Jack a speedy recovery. In order to calm some of the people in the crowd, including little Anna, Dennis gave a big thumbs up to the crowd so everyone knew that Jack wasn't dead or super seriously injured. He would very likely have a concussion and would need to be put on bedrest for the leg after surgery to repair any damage. He wouldn’t be able to ride for months, maybe up to a year just to make sure it was fine again, and Dennis hoped he wouldn't be stupid enough to try again any time soon.
“Whitaker, let's go,” Trevor said to Dennis while he was looking at the crowd. “We gotta get him on the helicopter to Lexington. So, chop-chop.”
Dennis was quick to move away from his focus on the crowd at Trevor's prompting and he faced both Jack and Trevor once more. Jack’s eyelids were squeezed closed, presumably from his sensitivity to the bright lights, and his jaw was clenched from the pain that was definitely starting to hit him. That urged Dennis to start moving the gurney with Trevor through the dirt of the arena toward the exit gate.
Once the men were past the gate, everyone in the standing crowd made a clear path for them toward the waiting ambulance. They all looked worried amd whispered amongst each other as the men passed, and Dennis could only guess that they were gossiping about how Jack was a newcomer and how he'd already injured himself by his second rodeo. The old hags always had nothing better to do than gossip, Dennis knew that well, and he ignored them as he passed them. They got to the ambulance in a short time and both paramedics moved in a perfect, repeated synchronization to move Jack up into the back of the rig. Within minutes, they were ready to take Jack to the hospital. Trevor had already called in for the helicopter, so all they had to do was get Jack nice and stable before his ride to Lexington.
Dennis sat in the back of the rig with Jack during the ride, monitoring his pulse and making sure he stayed awake. He didn't want to somehow miss a brain bleed or Jack suddenly passing out. So, he decided to make a little conversation if Jack had the capacity to respond.
“You know, you rode that horse better than anyone I've ever seen before,” Dennis said while glancing up at Jack's quickly bruising face. He must've caught his cheek too on the fence and it made Dennis wince a little inside when looking over it.
“Yeah?” Jack mumbled back, turning his head a little to the side to try and look at Dennis despite the neck brace. Even now, he tried to give him a smile. “I was…hoping you'd be watching.”
Dennis raised his eyebrows. “Me?”
“Yeah,” Jack repeated.
“Why?” Dennis asked, surprise spread all across his face. He leaned forward a little bit to hear Jack if he continued to speak, and blinked at him a few times.
Jack kept his crooked smile and gave his best wink as possible. “That's a secret.”
“Secret?” Dennis then got more surprised, and his face began to turn pink. What in the absolute hell could Jack Abbot mean by a ‘secret'? Oh, now his curiosity was beyond peaked.
“Mm-hm,” Jack replied. “Can't be telling on myself too soon.”
As Jack spoke, Dennis felt the ambulance come to a stop and he could only assume that they'd reached the hospital. Soon enough, Jack would be on a helicopter to Lexington and he'd get treatment for his leg - which Dennis could only hope was speedy and not serious. With the prior damage to his leg, an injury at the knee did not bode well, and Dennis hoped nothing was torn and perhaps only sprained. Regardless, though, Jack was going to be either bedridden or more dependent on his crutches when he was released. That meant he'd need help on the ranch… Fuck.
“Okay, we'll talk about whatever that means later,” Dennis said as he heard Trevor exit out of the front of the ambulance. He gave Jack a somewhat silly, but stern look before continuing. “You're going to go to Lexington. Is there someone we can contact to be there?”
Jack would've shaken his head if he hadn’t had a neck brace on, but since he did have one, he just replied with, “Nope, no one.”
Almost within an instant, Dennis’ heart felt heavy in his chest. Jack had absolutely no one to meet him at the hospital? He knew he was from Wyoming, but he'd also guessed maybe Jack had a sibling or a parent that'd want to come see him. But, no one?
Great. Now he felt obligated to be the one that did show up.
“I'll take Jeremiah with me and visit you, okay?” Dennis said while Trevor opened up the ambulance doors. He made eye contact with Jack as he said it, hoping he'd see the sincerity. The Whitaker boys were never ones to abandon their friends in times of need, everyone knew that. “It gets pretty lonely by yourself.”
“I'd like that, Denny,” Jack said back with a coarse tone to his voice. He gave him another smile full of crooked teeth and his hand nudged Dennis’ beside his leg as a way to try and hold his hand for thanks. His fingers didn't quite reach, and Dennis was too busy with Trevor trying to move the gurney out to notice, but he'd still wanted to try.
Maybe it was the pain, or the high of the adrenaline wearing down, but Jack just wanted a speckle of more comfort in a moment like this. He liked the sound of Dennis’ voice, the soft but calloused skin on his hands, the promise of care in his words. He wanted Dennis to fly with him to Lexington, just to keep him company. Jack didn't have a wife to call anymore when he got hurt, nor did he have any siblings to gripe at him for how unsafe his hobby was. All he had right now was little Dennis Whitaker to fret over him.
He didn’t want to let that go, not in the slightest.
“Okay, just hang tight,” Dennis said as he started rolling the gurney out of the ambulance and into Trevor's arms. “You'll be in good hands in Lexington, Jack.”
I wish it was yours, Jack thought to himself. His eyes stayed trained on Dennis’ face as best they could while he was rolled into the hospital, carried up the elevator, and brought up to the helipad. Every time Dennis gave him a small flash of a smile, it felt like his pain dissipated. When he was put into the helicopter, he couldn't help but mourn the sight of his best friend's brother, his next door neighbor, his savior, his…
Fuck, he really hoped he didn't spill his secret when he was drugged up in Lexington for his pain.