A/N: Wow, I haven't posted anything in forever. I know I left my other two stories kinda in the dust, but I've been contemplating and researching this one for a long, long time and I finally got enough background material to write this, the prologue.
Warning: This story is very AU. I'm trying to stay true to the characters as well as be somewhat historically accurate. At the end of each chapter I'll mention what story elements come from historical references. I'm sure I'll have to fudge a bit, but this IS fiction, right? Also, possible graphic descriptions of medical conditions in later chapters.
Disclaimer: I don't own Scrubs. Nothing witty this time.
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-= My Home on the Range =-
- Prologue -
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Perry Cox leaned casually against the low rock wall, the stone nearly burning his bare arms as he surveyed the action below him. He scowled, pressing harder against the offending wall, determined not to let a little heat disturb his cherished break. He'd have to get going in a few minutes and he wasn't about to surrender to man or nature. Possibly sensing his stubbornness, the equally relentless sun shone upon his head and shoulders, unseasonably warm for early May, southern California though it may be. He could take the heat, though. Anything was better than being back east. Humid in the summer, biting cold in the winter; Perry especially appreciated not having to shovel a path through the snow anymore. The only thing he could ask for was a little more rain. It had been weeks without a drop, and things were looking mighty crispy. A stray spark or ash could send the whole place up in flames. The thought made him shudder. Businesses, homes, and lives could be lost. He forced the image from his mind and looked down from his perch, searching for something to distract him.
Men and women scurried below, preparing for a celebration. Cinco de Mayo was just a couple of days away, and there was sure to be a huge to-do as there was every year. Everyone would dress in their brightly colored costumes and people would sing and dance to hokey music he couldn't understand fully. He'd learned enough Spanish to be able to communicate passably, but the things they sang about ran deeper than "Pardon me, which way to the toilet?" and "I'd really rather not have ice in my whiskey, thank you very much." They sang about the past and the future, loves lost and unrequited. Perry resolved to learn more not only of their language but their culture. What were those ponchos about, anyways? Couldn't they put in arm holes like the rest of civilization instead of letting it flap around and get twisted about? And they were so damn bright. Nothing says "Here I am, shoot me!" quite like a poncho.
He withdrew a white handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his damp brow. A child down below him, not more than four or five years old, saw the movement and looked up curiously. She waved timidly, clutching her mother's skirts with her other hand. Perry, sure no one else was watching, allowed himself a small smile at the girl and waved the handkerchief in circles like a lasso over his head. She grinned at him, the white of her teeth shining brightly from the brown of her face as she was pulled into the crowd.
"Well, that was a sweet moment, Perry. Thinking about specializing in pediatrics now?"
Perry's face fell as he sighed deeply. Not exactly a great moment to get caught by anyone, let alone his boss, Bob Kelso. He put on a sneer as he turned to face the man who was responsible for interrupting his break. "Bobbo! To what do I owe this displeasure? Have you come to gab about where I purchased my absolutely fabulous kerchief? Or are you eyeing my new trousers? Spiffy, I know, but I bought them at the Big and Tall Men's Store, no place for you, I'm afraid." The other man frowned and opened his mouth to spit out some acerbic remark, but Perry cut him off expertly. "Ah-ha! It's your lovely wife Enid, isn't it? She's fallen to the cholera again, and you need me to come quick and diagnose that all that's wrong with her is she ate another bad damn egg! God, I'm still pissed about that. That was the end of the laudanum supply, we could've saved those three kids that came in the next day-"
"Now you see here!" Kelso roared. "You would've done the same thing if you were in my position! If it were Jordan lying there-"
"OH no. No no no no. Do not speak her name in my presence ever, ever again." Noting Kelso's growing irate expression at having been dressed down over relationship issues, Perry backed down half a step. "Please," he tacked on quietly through clenched teeth, averting his eyes back to the people milling around below him.
Kelso decided to let it go. He had felt endlessly guilty about using the rest of the already sparse medication to treat his wife who, as it ended up, wasn't actually ill. He hadn't shown it, of course, which no doubt left Perry feeling as though he was employed by the Devil Himself. But that was Kelso's modus operandi, and he couldn't change now, not when he was so close to becoming Chief of Medicine of the biggest, grandest hospital in the state. When you achieved such a position of power, people expected certain things from you, and shame on you if you ever show a moment's weakness. Sure, he went home at night and kissed his wife and pet his dog, but if anyone found out, he might as well pack his bags and ship out. Kelso let his face go blank and followed Perry's gaze. "You coming back out here on the fifth?" he asked.
The taller man ran a hand through his curly hair before sagging a bit against the rock wall. He was glad for its presence, or the action might have shown a bit too much emotion for his taste. "Yeah. And before you ask, I already traded shifts with Dr. Mickhead. He'll be covering for me."
With a snort, Kelso turned away from the scene below. "I don't know why you insist on mingling with those common people, Perry. That Latina nurse you constantly hang on is nothing but bad news for our hospital, you know. You could enjoy much more… esteemed company, if only you tried a bit harder. Talent will only get you so far in our business. You need connections; though I suppose you've got a deficit of those now, since severing things with your ex-wi… ah, She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, I suppose." He began to walk away, gravel crunching beneath him. "See you back at the asylum," he quipped last-minute over his shoulder.
Perry didn't even give Kelso the satisfaction of a glare. He simply stared off into the distance, past the people working below him. The sun began to set, its afternoon light casting his lengthening shadow down across the courtyard. He gazed east, and it was like looking into the past. He saw his hometown, his parents, his carefree childhood. There were round hills covered in snow somewhere to the east, and high jagged mountains, and crystal blue lakes, and rippling plains of wheat, and people of all nationalities going about their lives. He wondered how many of them had lives significantly better than his, and how many had worse. Then he remembered the three children he couldn't save from the cholera. And then there was the woman who had died of consumption last week, and the outbreak of influenza down the road just two days prior. Perry sighed. He mournfully figured he had it pretty good. He uncorked his belt flask and drank deeply of clean water, and thanked Whatever Above.
Something caught his eye way out, and he strained to see what it was. A dust cloud rolled along lazily, and as it came closer he could make out the churning of wheels and flapping of white canvas that signaled the coming of a covered wagon. He frowned. A huge wagon train from back east had come in just last night, everyone present and accounted for, and no more travelers were due in for the next month.
His mind began running through worst-case scenarios. Bandits? Rogue band of natives? Someone's drunken teenager stole his pappy's shotgun, looking for trouble? "Stupid kids," Perry muttered under his breath. He turned on his heel and pushed off the wall, crunching over the rubble of the ruins as he strode away from the overlook. Letting out a sharp whistle, he emerged from the wrecked stone building to see a chestnut horse trotting toward him, reins flapping.
"Whoa, Jack," Perry said softly.
The horse came to a halt directly in front of him, obediently waiting for his partner to hurry the hell up. Coat gleaming like burnished copper, the horse nodded his head vigorously, causing the bit in his mouth to jangle softly.
With a pat on his neck, Perry swung himself easily into the saddle and placed his hat snugly on his head, gathering the reins in his left hand. "Alright, boy. Let's go see what these newcomers have to say for themselves. Hyah!" Perry squeezed the horse's sides with his legs and they sprang forward instantly, hooves clattering on the packed, dry earth.