Chapter Text
The sun is sweltering, it’s sharp rays thoroughly burning Dennis’ skin. He’s starting to feel sticky and smell sour. He must keep working. It’s the hottest day of the year, he knows this full well. He also knows that continuing this heavy labour in these conditions will give him heatstroke, a fact he knows from the medical books he reads in secret at the local library. But he must keep working.
Whitakers never stop working.
Dennis has always been a bit of a black sheep in Broken Bow, he is a lot paler and smaller than the rest of his family. He’s the runt of the litter really. He burns easy, his faith in God seems fickle, he never seems to build muscle no matter how hard he works. Unknown to everyone, he doesn’t want this life. He yearns for the opportunity to be a doctor and save lives. But what can he really do to change that.
Thus, he must keep working.
Now panting, the animals are herded inside as he steals a glance at his watch, 10:00 pm. A frown finds its way upon his face, it’s well past the time for dinner and no one came and got him.
“How strange” he mutters under his breath.
He begins to make his way back the house a slight tremble making its way to his hands as his mind is flooding of possibilities of what is awaiting him. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket and proceeds.
Shoving the door open with his hip, he makes his presence known only to find his parents sat on the family couch. His mother is in tears and his father looks so incredibly furious that Dennis doesn’t think he’s ever seen his father this way.
His father was never a kind man, stuck in his ways with no room left for empathy. He always attempted to drill his ideals into Dennis and his brothers; ‘Never stop working, you don’t want to be useless’, ‘Believe in the lord no matter what’, ‘Never take a woman’s job’. Dennis was scared of his father, if something was not done exactly the way he wants it, you would be punished for it. Although that rule only really applied to Dennis, his brothers getting away with a light slap on the wrist.
Only now has Dennis seen his father at his angriest. And it seems to be directed to him.
“ummm, hel-“ Dennis attempts to greet before being interrupted.
“I always knew you were a fucking fag”
It was a steady but harsh sentence that seemed to compliment the intense stare his father was giving him just perfectly. The words sinking deep into Dennis' bones.
It’s so out of the blue Dennis completely blanks, going absolutely still. This is not what he was expecting of today.
He looks to his wailing mother noticing something in her hands, it’s a book. His book. The one where he writes all his sins begging God for forgiveness.
‘I know I’m corrupted with sin please forgive me my thoughts are unholy. I’m begging for redemption I don’t care how you do it!’
‘I am fully aware it’s wrong but please I can’t stop thinking about him. Rid me of these thoughts’
‘I don’t want to work on the farm. I want to be a doctor. I want to save lives is that too much to ask?’
He had desperately tried to ‘pray the gay away’. It doesn’t seem to stick.
“WELL? SAY SOMETHING!”
His father is yelling now. He feels like he’s underwater. He’s drowning unable to escape from the icy clutches that are holding him down. It’s an immense feeling of utter dread that is filling his lungs. He can’t breathe. He can’t even move. This is wrong, so wrong, they were never meant to know.
He should probably beg now…
”Mama. Please don’t do this to me. You know I won’t survive out there by myself. Please Mama… p- please.” His words end up as a warbled sob. His mother won’t even look in his direction only continuing to weep herself. He thought she might understand him.
”Mama please.” His voice is small and defeated he knows pleading for forgiveness in this manner will get him nowhere. But still he will try.
Whitakers don’t give up.
He lowers himself to his knees hands clasped together like it’s the only thing keeping him in one piece right now and he prays. He prays for forgiveness. He prays that they won’t cast him away. He swears he won’t think that way anymore. His efforts are futile really. He knows they will get him nowhere.
His distorted prayers land on deaf ears as Dennis’ own and his mother’s cries harmonise and his father’s bruising glare never leaves him once. Dennis can sense himself slipping somewhere far away. His mouth is moving in a silent prayer, his eyes tightly scrunched closed in a meek attempt to pretend this isn’t actually happening. He feels everything and nothing all at once.
He can’t find it in himself to fight back once the first punch is thrown. Skin meeting skin. It’s an intimate affair, one full of emotion. His bones ache under the violent blows his father is administering. His head snaps to the side after the third one, making him face his mother. He can’t help but notice her flinch at every punch he takes, yet she does nothing but look away. Now she only listens.
To think she can’t even look at him makes him disgusted in himself. If he wasn’t so filthy this wouldn’t have happened.
He isn’t aware how many punches he’s taken but he just lies there and lets it happen. He does deserve it after all. He can feel his bruised face pulsing in tandem with his heart. He can taste the coppery blood filling his mouth from where his teeth must have bit into his cheek. In a deep corner of his mind, he knows that what is happening is inherently wrong, but those thoughts are quickly interrupted with another full power punch from the man he calls his father. He’s seeing stars now.
The pain is grounding not allowing him to fully slip away into his own mind. In a way he hates it but above all else he accepts his long overdue punishment. His father is on top of him grunting like a dog as he winds up another punch. He looks feral with anger, and Dennis never wants to see someone so angry ever again. The thought that he caused that anger crosses his mind as the guilt overwhelms him.
He did this to himself. He tore this family to pieces. There’s nothing he can do to fix it. He lost count of the punches long ago but he is still calling for his mother as if that can save him. It’s not a conscious response, if he’s being honest, his childish mind thinks his mama can save him from everything.
It’s thinking like this that will kill him one day.
Once the man got tired, the fighting ceased. Dennis’ breathing was ragged and his face was near unrecognisable. He is faintly aware of a rough hand in his hair dragging him to a different location. It’s then when the cold hits him.
Oh, he's outside.
It’s entirely dark and colder now. Or maybe he’s shivering for a different reason. All he knows is that he’s not welcome there anymore.
So… what now?
For the time being, he wanders going where he knows. Then further. No one questions the bloodied teen aimlessly wandering through the Nebraskan countryside. For there is no one to witness him. Where he’s going, he doesn’t truly know himself. He should find a way to get some money. He can do high school he hasn’t missed that much since middle school, right? Surely he can become legally emancipated, it’s not like his parents want to be responsible for him any more anyway.
He just needs to find a place to go.