Like A Rodeo - {joshler}

"Dal, for the thousandth time," Tyler exasperated, "I'm not leaving you to go join the circus, nor am I leaving you to go join a convent. I just need to get out of the damn city for a while, and I've got the PTO to cover however long I wanna be gone for."

Dallon, the aforementioned man and Tyler's roommate of three years, perched at the end of the settee with a pout on his lips as he watched his friend finish zipping up his luggage. "But all the way back to Texas? Why not just drive down to the coast for a week or two, that'll clear your head!"

Tyler rolled his eyes, slinging a bag on his shoulder and grabbing his car keys. "We live on the coast, Dal," he said. "I see the beachfront from out of my office window every single day - that's not really my idea of a getaway."

Dallon groans as he follows Tyler out of the door of the apartment and down the stairwell. "So, your answer to your sense of impending doom," he says with dramatic flair, "is to flee a million miles away back to your hometown and away from your best friend?"

Shoving his bags into his car and slamming the trunk shut, Tyler sighs again. "It's less than 2,000 miles, and yes, Dallon. I need to be with my family, in a town of less than 2,000 people, where I can hide in my old room and not answer my phone a hundred times a day." Tyler's eyes begin to water as he looks at his friend, and he tries to keep his bottom lip from trembling. "I need this, Dal, can't you understand that?"

The taller man's face softens as he looks at the pleading behind his friend's eyes and he sighs gently. "Of course I can, Ty," he says. "I'm just gonna miss you. I haven't really been by myself since we moved in together, and it's just gonna be hard to adjust without you here."

Tyler nods. "I get that, believe me," he responds. "Why not invite that girl over you've been talking to? Maybe now that you've got an empty house and some spare time, you can get to know each other better."

Dallon's eyes seemed to light up at that suggestion and he let out a low chuckle. "Not a bad idea, actually. I think I might just do that." The two men smiled at each other then, before embracing in a tight, longing hug. "Just be careful, Ty. I know how you are when you get into your head. Actually take some time for yourself, okay?"

Tyler nodded, pulling away from his friend and opening the driver's door. "I will, Dal." He climbed into the car and started the engine, giving one last smile to his friend before pulling away from their apartment building. Once on the freeway, he took a deep breath, straightened up in his seat and readjusted his grip on the steering wheel. "See ya later, Miami," he said to himself. "I'll be back at some point."

***

Twenty-eight hours on the road and one sleepless night at a hotel in Louisiana later, Tyler was pulling into the driveway of his childhood home with a light heart. As dumb as he thought it sounded, he started feeling better immediately after leaving Florida state lines and completely elated once crossing into Texas. He put the car in park and turned off the engine, releasing a deep breath before climbing out, opting to get his bags in the morning as he strolled up to the front door.

Nervously, he knocked against the wooden door and stood back as he waited for someone to answer. It couldn't have been more than thirty seconds, and the door was being pulled open by Kelley, Tyler's mother, who stared at her son in shock. "Tyler?"

The man smiled gently, giving her a tiny wave. "Hi, Momma," he said, a knot forming in his throat as his mom threw her arms around him and laughed in disbelief.

"Oh, my baby boy," she said happily as she rubbed Tyler's back and held onto him. "It's so good to see you, honey."

Tyler could feel the tears stinging his eyes as he held tightly onto his mom, the scent of her perfume and the brush of her hair against his face a comfort he had been missing for far too long. "You too, Mom."

Pulling away, Kelley reached down to grab his hand and start leading him inside. "Come on in," she said happily. "Your dad's inside watching Florida knock Houston out of the bracket."

"Sounds like Dad," he muttered under his breath as he closed the door behind him.

Kelley smiled, leading Tyler to the kitchen. "He won't admit it," she says, "but he's missed you." She patted his hand lightly before facing the direction of the living room. "Chris! Could you come into the kitchen, please?"

Tyler smiled as he heard a soft 'Yes, dear' coming from the room before seeing his dad round the entrance. "Hey, Honey, what's—" He paused, a genuine look of surprise on his face before he broke out into a smile. "Well, I'll be damned," he said as he rounded the kitchen island and embraced his son in a tight hug.

"Hey, Dad," the man said softly, the words almost coming out like a breath of relief.

"What are you doing here, son? And so late, too," his dad questioned as he led them over to the table to sit down while his mom offered to make a pot of coffee.

Tyler shrugged, offering up a small smile as he looked at his dad. "I just had some saved up PTO that I thought I'd go ahead and take before the fiscal year ends," he answered, opting not to disclose that he was actually teetering on the edge of a ledge and in need of a break.

His father just nodded his head as his mom walked over and hugged her son once again over his shoulders. "You know you're welcome home any time, baby," she said, kissing the top of his head. "And you can stay as long as you like."

"That's right, Son," his dad said, clapping him on the back gently before adding, "just make sure you aren't gone too long. Don't need to go losing your job, now."

Of course, Tyler thought. He always knew how his dad was when it came to him working, he should've expected this kind of response."Right," he mumbled quietly. "I'm gonna go upstairs. It was a long drive here and my eyes are killing me."

"Sure, honey," his mom replied, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Get some rest, and I'll make you breakfast in the morning, how's that sound?"

"Sounds good, Mom," he says with a tight smile, mumbling a 'good night' to his parents before trudging up the stairs to his old room. Every creak in the steps reminded him of nights he'd sneak to the kitchen for a late night snack, or bolt through the house chasing after his siblings for pissing him off over something stupid again. It felt good to be back home, but he also couldn't shake the feeling of sadness that he was back in this house, having run from his responsibilities with his tail between his legs because his brain was trying to ruin him.

Feeling the familiar sensation of tears burning at his eyes, he shook his head fiercely before coming to the old wooden door leading to his room and rushing inside, trying his best not to let it slam behind him. Once securely inside, the tears began to fall freely as he slid down to the floor, muffling his sobs into the skin of his arms. How had he wound up here? He spent years of learning, cramming sleepless nights and caffeine fueled marathons into days of seemingly endless studying to get to where he is now, and yet here he is; sobbing against the door in his childhood bedroom at twenty-nine years old, feeling like a failure for not being able to prioritize his own health the way he prioritizes others'.

After a few minutes, he peeled himself from the carpeted floor and walked over to the bed, discarding his shoes and jeans in the process before letting himself fall face first onto the old mattress, the springs groaning to life under the unexpected weight. As he stared up at the ceiling, a million thoughts racing through his tired mind, he wondered if he'd ever feel 'normal' in the sense of finding peace with himself and who he is as a person. The weight of being a good doctor, a good son, a good brother and a good person weighed on him like a house being dropped on the wicked witch, only no one would be coming to take his red slippers.

Who in their right mind would want to carry his burden?