Turner let out a slight grunt as he pulled the barn door open, the morning sun was rising off in the distance while the snow had started to melt a little bit over the recent days. Sam was awake, the Deputy could see her in the living room window relaxing on the couch. It had been a couple weeks since they had moved in, Turner had fixed the pipes that needed fixing inside and now was turning his attention to the barn. As the door opened outward and the morning light rushed in on the dark interior Turner found himself looking at the various items that had been left behind by the previous owners.

He adjusted his jacket and the wool knit cap on his head before he stepped into the dry dirt floor of the barn, there was a workbench off to the left while to the right there were a couple storage lockers. It was unlike most Barns that Turner had seen, in that there weren’t any animal pens or anything regarding livestock. Despite that, a barn was a barn, hayloft above was still a bit of a mystery to him but on the ground floor he could see there was plenty of work to be done. Not only were there tools on one side and lockers on the other, there was also a great deal of junk resting in the center of the floor. Some of which was covered in dust, other parts were covered in aging tarps.

Turner looked behind him at his truck, which he had backed up to the doors just in case he needed to haul anything away. As it turned out this had been fortuitous forethought on his part, as he was indeed going to need to haul some of the junk in the barn away. With little pomp and circumstance he walked back to his truck and briefly opened the driver’s side door to grab something from inside. The object in particular was an old transistor radio that Sam had brought down from Canterlot when they had moved, he ran a thumb over the old plastic before he walked back into the dingy barn.

The man walked to the workbench and set the radio down on the dusty wooden surface, he turned and looked around the barn at the various gaps in some of the wood. There would definitely need to be some holes patched, but the supports all in all looked well intact. A little paint and some minor repairs and the barn would be the perfect workshop or a place to store the truck at night. With a sigh the man extended the antenna on the radio and flicked on the powerswitch, static echoed through the barn as he quietly adjusted the channel. He was on the AM band at the moment, which meant he could only pick up talk radio.

As AM band had considerably longer range than FM he found it interesting that he could pick up radio stations as far away as Canterlot. Even the AM radio in his truck couldn’t get that far, though he supposed it had something to do with the particular radio in question.

”...recent news following the coup d’etat in the Griffon Kingdom, the new regime is being headed by General Gustavo Von Adler. This comes at a time disastrous for policy makers that opposed the recently passed controversial ‘Equestrian Conscription Bill 37’, which allows for more Equestrian residents to be drafted into the milit-” The radio frequency was changed after only a couple sentences, now that Turner had access to news from outside Evergreen County he found himself seeing the world the Equestria inhabited as more ‘human’ than he’d first thought.

After a couple seconds of searching he found himself landing on another station from Canterlot, a music station as it turned out. According to its tagline it was playing ‘Human Music’, that piqued Turner’s curiosity enough to continue listening while he started to clear out some of the junk left in the barn. As the first song came on he froze and turned to look at the radio with a bit of a surprised expression. The song, as he recognized it, was by John Denver… ‘Country Roads’, which as it turned out was one of Turner’s favorite songs.

With a smile on his face Turner set to work, carrying old pieces of equipment that Turner didn’t recognize to his truck. They’d at least be worth something in scrap metal if he couldn’t find someone to buy them in town. It was one of his few days off, but in all honesty there was something relaxing about clearing out that old barn. With the radio playing in the background, his truck outside, and the crisp morning air nipping at his cheeks he felt like he was back on Earth in his hometown of Eustace. That feeling of nostalgia lasted only for a couple moments or so before he remembered that he wasn’t on Earth at all, but to pretend for only a couple moments seemed to be enough.

As minutes passed by and the first hour came and went Turner was doing quite well, he’d already loaded at least half the left behind equipment and other oddities into the bed of his truck. It was times like that which made him glad to have not gone for a crew cab, as well as going with something that could carry more than your average pony carriage. There had to be at least a thousand pounds of stuff loaded in there in the form of old farm equipment, boxes of junk, and various pieces of scrap wood. Of course, the wood would just go on the fire pile…

Turner removed his knit cap and wiped some sweat from his bow, the radio now playing something that was neither country or western, and therefore he wasn’t paying attention to it. It seemed most of the songs had been ripped straight from Sam’s favorite song playlist, because there was music from people he’d never heard of in his entire life up until he’d met Sam. Even then he couldn’t keep their names straight, as it all really sounded the same. At that point he just had to shrug to himself, he couldn’t be bothered to change the station every five minutes.

“It looks like it’s really coming along.” Sam’s voice caught Turner’s attention as he was examining a barrel full of various lengths of metal pipe, flat bar, and the like. The man stood up and wiped his dirt covered hands on his jeans before turning to look at Sam, she was standing in the door of the barn with her usual red wool jacket and earmuffs. “You need any help?”

“I’m actually getting to a point I was gonna take a break, but I don’t mind the company.” Turner said with a shrug as he began to roll the barrel towards his truck. It was far too heavy for him to carry, so he spun it on the edge of it’s bottom. He grunted as he reached the rear of the truck and began to load the metal that was inside the barrel into the bed. “So, how are your stocks doing… Or whatever it is you’ve been up to lately?”

“Just getting some new products running under my own brand, most of the time other people are making the stuff but I like to occasionally produce stuff under the company I set up for tax purposes.” Sam said with a shrug, after a couple seconds she walked over and began to help Turner load the bed of his truck with the scrap metal. “We’re getting ready to start a new product line.”

“Oh? What is it?” Turner asked, letting out a quick breath as he lowered a particularly heavy piece of metal.

“Cars, trucks, and other vehicles.” Sam said, that prompted Turner to let out an interested hum. “Most of the stuff I had I sold off, but I hung on to the rental truck that I was driving when I came here, had my own people going over it…” Sam stood back as the man finished loading the truck and rolled the barrel away from the tailgate. “Gave them a bit more incentive when I told them I needed parts for your truck.”

“That’s actually really good, it should cut down on police response times around the country.” Turner said with a smile while leaning against truck, closing the tailgate with a heavy thud. “Glad to see you’re keeping busy, I promise once I’m done with the barn I’ll start repairing the animal pens for you.”

“They can wait…” Sam said as she walked a bit more into the barn and looked around at the space that had been cleared out so far. “What’s next for today?”

“Well, first I’m gonna drop off these pieces of scrap, then I’m gonna come back and load the truck again, rinse repeat until the barn’s empty.” Turner adjusted his knit cap and began to walk towards the barn, standing next to Sam and putting an arm around her shoulder. “After that, I dunno, I’ll probably take a break.” The woman looked over at him and leaned her head against his shoulder, smiling faintly. “What about you? Just gonna sit around on your gloriously sculpted butt?”

“I was going to do a little yoga…” Sam began, she could practically feel his eyes roll. “I have to keep my gloriously sculpted butt gloriously sculpted, after all.” She said matter of factly before looking around the Barn. “After that, I dunno… Might come out here and decorate this place a bit more.”

“Nope.” Turner said quite quickly. “Barn’s gonna be my workshop, won’t be no place for tea cosies or throw pillows.” Sam smirked faintly at that, Turner saw that smirk and realized she was most likely just messing with him. He hoped so… He couldn’t stand the thought of working on his truck surrounded by throw pillows and other ‘decorative’ knick knacks. “Anyway, I’m gonna go drop this off in town. Want me to pick anything up on my way back?”

“We’re low on milk again, other than that we’re good.” Sam replied as the man pulled her closer and gave her a kiss on the cheek before he started walking towards his truck. “Drive safe!” Turner nodded and gave her a thumbs up as he opened the driver’s side door and climbed in, Sam stood behind the truck as she heard the engine rumble to life. The woman smiled as she watched the man begin to drive away, truck laden with heavy scrap metal and equipment. He disappeared on the horizon as he started to drive down the slightly sloped driveway. With Turner gone Sam was alone with the barn, she adjusted her coat and took a couple more steps inside.

She had never been inside a barn before, even when they had checked out the property before the closing. It was about what she expected, a bit dingy and certainly dirty, but she figured that the structure wasn’t meant for style. Sam quietly approached the workbench where Turner’s radio was set to a radio station playing ‘Human Music’, music that she had supplied the station in Canterlot when she’d first come to Canterlot. After a couple minutes of listening to the music she quietly changed the band to FM and changed the channel to the local country station. She’d never been much of a country fan, but it reminded her of Turner when he was away from home.

The familiar twang of guitars and soulful singing filled the air as Sam walked around the barn, she stopped near the pile of junk that had yet to be moved out of there. With a shrug she began to start moving some of it closer to the open doors, she was quite surprised at just how heavy most of it was. She struggled to carry some of the crates or roll the barrels, but she managed to do it. After moving several crates she needed to stop as her hands weren’t accustomed to carrying that much in such a short period. She took this moment to look through some of the crates, most of them just contained pieces of old metal. It seemed that perhaps the previous owner had been a metal worker of some kind, she had no idea what would necessitate so much extra material…

After several attempts at trying to lift one of the crates closer to the doors, Sam opted to instead close the doors to the barn and make her way back to the house. She walked up the steps to the back porch and wiped her boots on the mat outside before entering the building, the warm air and smell of burning wood greeted her moments later. The fireplace was providing heat quite nicely throughout the house, the wood burning steadily as it’s embers gave off a faint glow. The interior of the house was decorated rather nicely, with several couches that they had brought from their apartment in the living room, a throw rug on the floor, the ottoman also from the apartment, and Sam’s TV that had been shipped down from Canterlot.

The walls were decorated with various paintings, including the ones that had been in the Apartment. Sam had also brought some of her own pieces from Canterlot, those that fit the more rustic appearance of the house anyway. She knew that abstract art wasn’t something Turner really appreciated. On the mantle there were several knick knacks, a small bronze statue of a unicorn, some photographs, and a nice looking clock which had belonged to Sam’s grandmother.

Sam walked towards the dining area, which had one of the many new pieces of furniture they had bought during the move. The dining table was considerably bigger than it had been in the apartment, able to seat six as opposed to barely squeezing in four. She looked at her papers laying on the polished wood surface, various documents and contracts. The woman leaned against the table and looked them over once more. Sometimes Sam found it difficult to read through the legal jargon, but with a handy little cheat sheet from Gwen she had been able to get by.

With a sigh the woman removed her jacket and hung it on the back of a nearby chair, it would take Turner some time to get back from town so she figured it would be best to move on with her day for the time being. With that in mind she took off her ear muffs and went to get her yoga mat from the guest bedroom.

Turner sighed as he drove up the driveway, unloading all the scrap in the back of the truck had taken nearly an hour. He’d come away from it with a very full bag of bits, as steel and iron were surprisingly profitable by the pound at the moment. In fact, it seemed any scrap metal was being accepted at a decent, no matter what kind it was. Turner didn’t know the specifics of why metals rose in value or lost them, he had a basic idea but not much else. Briefly he looked over at the passenger seat, sitting there was a bag with the milk Sam had asked for, as well as the mail from their mailbox at the end of the long driveway.

The man stopped in front of the house for the time being and got out, the engine’s rumble dying off as he removed the key from the ignition. With the bag holding the gallon jug of milk in one hand and the mail in the other he made his way up the front steps and pushed the door open. Sam, as he expected, was in the center of the living room doing one of her yoga poses. He didn’t know which one, they all had weird names that he couldn’t be bothered to learn.

“Got the milk, and the mail.” Turner said as he took off his knit cap and tucked it into his jacket before he withdrew the large sack of bits that he had been given from the inside pocket. He tossed it on the dining room table along with the mail, then went to the kitchen to put away the milk. “Gonna load the rest of it in later, then probably take it down tomorrow… You want anything to drink?” He called from inside.

“Nope!” Sam replied with a slight grunt as she finished her yoga pose and straighted up her posture before stepping off the mat and walking towards the table. She looked at the bag of bits that Turner had tossed down. “Did you get all that from all that scrap metal? It’s got to be, what, three grand?”

“Three and a half.” Turner replied from the kitchen, Sam could hear him take out the lunch meat from the fridge which likely mean the was making a sandwich. “Damndest thing, the guys at the scrap drop off were practically begging for metal, they would’a took the truck if I hadn’t stopped ‘em.”

“There’s a shortage on.” Sam replied with a simple hum while she picked up the mail and began to leaf through it. “Griffons used to export a good amount of iron and steel to Equestria, but the coup they had a week or so ago pretty much threw that all out of balance. It’s one of the problems I’ve been having with trying to find producers for those trucks I mentioned.” She could hear turner let out an ‘Oh’ from the kitchen, which was about all she could hope for when she talked politics with him. Most of the mail she saw was junk, there were a couple letters for her from a few of the modeling agencies that she’d worked with before, as well as two very official looking letters.

One bore the seal of the Equestrian Government, it was addressed to Sam, so she promptly opened it. As her eyes roved over the page she began to get a slight sinking feeling in her gut, though it abated somewhat the more she read. In short, it was saying that due to her numerous ‘Connections to the Equestrian Economy’ she had been exempted by the recently passed changes to the Equestrian draft. She sighed and set the paper on the table and looked at the other document, which read ‘To: Mister Paige W. Turner. From: The Equestrian Ministry of Defense.’. Turner emerged from the kitchen with a sandwich on a paper plate, walking towards the table he set the plate down and looked at the letter.

“Huh…” He said as he reached for it. “How’d they figure out I have a middle name?” Sam looked at him with an odd expression, which he quickly caught and cleared his throat. “My middle name is Wilson, by the way.”

“We’ve been dating what, four months? You didn’t mention it until now?” Sam asked while still holding the letter.

“You never asked.” Turner replied with a shrug, prompting Sam to roll her eyes and sigh before she handed him the letter. “Let’s see what the government wants, probably asking for me to buy bonds or something…” Sam sat at the table and continued to look over the letter she’d recieved, listening as Turner ripped open the envelope and withdrew the letter. “To Mister Paige Wilson Turner of the Evergreen County Sheriff’s Department, in light of your recent exemplary service to law enforcement, the Department of Defense has...” Then he stopped.

“Has what?” Sam asked, looking at him. She saw a look on his face that she’d never seen before, a mix between shock, uncertainty, and just a hint of terror. After a couple second his expression became more resolute. “Paige, what does it say?”

“Has decided that your skills would serve the crown better overseas…” Turner read aloud, leaning against the table with one hand while holding the letter with the other. “While you are not currently being called upon, there may be a time in the future when your service will be needed… Enclosed is your new… Your new Draft Card.” Turner lowered the paper and set it on the table, still leaning on it for several seconds before she saw one of his knees buckle. Sam stood up quickly as Turner dropped to one knee, his face quite pale. “I need a minute…”

“That can’t be right!” Sam said as she picked up the letter and began to read over it for herself, and then re-read it, but no matter how many times she tried to make the words change she couldn’t. “I… Wha… It’s okay… I can fix this. I can fix this… I can get you out of this.”

“No…” Turner said as he wiped his forehead and pushed himself back up on to his feet. “Don’t… Don’t do that.” The man sat in a nearby chair, rubbing his head while the color slowly began to return to his face.

“Why the hell not!?” Sam shouted, both out of surprise and anger. Not anger at Turner, but just… Anger. “It isn’t right that they get to just… arbitrarily decide who has to fight and when!”

“You may not think it’s right, but it’s the law.” Turner said as calmly as he could, leaning his head into his hand while Sam continued to clutch the letter tightly in her hand. “Like or not, if they call my number I have to go, Sam.”

“Not if I talk to some of my friends, they can get you out of this-” Sam began talking quickly, she came to an utter halt when Turner’s voice boomed throughout the room.

“No!” The man was still obviously reeling from the letter, but the look on his face told Sam that this was an issue that had struck a particularly strong nerve. “I ain’t gonna make some other sorry sonofabitch take my place, you want to talk about things being right? Does that sound right to you?”

“You could get killed!” Sam shouted at him, finally tossing the letter down on the table. “It’s hard enough watching you go to work every morning, and that’s in Evergreen County! I don’t think I could handle watching you leave and never coming home, Paige!”

“Well I ain’t to keen on it either, Samantha, but the law is the law!” Turner shouted back, the two of them were now standing. Each of their faces was growing considerably redder, for Turner he couldn’t stomach the idea of trying to get out of this situation. If he did, they’d find some other guy to go in his stead and that didn’t sit right with him. Sam, on the other hand, was outraged that such a thing could even happen, and infuriated that Turner was refusing to let her sort it out for him. “How would you feel if because someone else got out of going I got sent instead, huh? You want to make someone else’s family go through that?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I have to like the idea of you going either!” Sam shouted back, both of their tempers had run hotter than expected. “I lost everything and everyone I loved when I came here, Paige! I won’t lose you too!”

“I understand that, but I’m not about to make someone else go through this shit just so I can stay home while their kid gets sent off to god knows where! I don’t want to lose you either, Sam, but I can’t just dodge this!” Turner replied, their tempers were shifting from anger to desperation. It seemed that most of their shouting had come from the suddenness of the revelation, now as more time passed they began to calm down. “Look, it’s not like I was actually drafted, okay? They’re just saying I could be, which to be fair, was a possibility on earth too.”

“I… I just… I want you safe.” Sam said as she looked at the table, Turner quietly put a hand on her shoulder as the two of them sat back down. “What do you mean it was a possibility on earth?”

“The US still makes guys sign up for the draft when they turn eighteen, it’s called Selective Service.” Turner said simply as he leaned on the table. “I understand you want me safe, I want to be safe too, but at the end of the day I swore an oath to uphold the law… This is the law, so I’ve got to abide by it or I don’t deserve to wear my badge.”

“Did… Did we just have our first fight?” Sam asked, Turner looked off to the side with a thoughtful expression.

“What about the thing with the paint in the bedroom?” He asked, Sam shook her head.

“I don’t recall us screaming at each other over which shade of blue we wanted the wall to be…” Sam said flatly, prompting Turner to give a slight nod. “I… I don’t know how to feel now, I’m still really angry… I don’t know who to be angry at though.”

“Just take a deep breath…” Turner said as he took a deep breath himself, Sam reluctantly looked at the table and took a deep breath. “Now let it out…” The two of them exhaled slowly, which made Sam feel a little better. “I know you aren’t the most religious person, Sam… But just listen to me, okay?” Sam nodded quietly as Turner squeezed her shoulder a little tighter. “God, grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change those we can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

“That helped a little…” Sam said as she took another deep breath. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

“I’m sorry I yelled, too…” Turner replied as he put his hand back on the table and picked up the envelope which had contained the letter. From within he withdrew a small laminated card which bore the usual ID information and the photograph of Turner that had been used for his Sheriff’s Deputy credentials. “It’s not all bad… At least they used a decent picture.” He said in a deadpanned tone, Sam let out a quick giggle before her expression became a bit more serious. “Sam.”

“Yeah.” Sam replied in the silence of their home, the only other nose being the crackle of the fire in the fireplace.

“It’ll be okay.” Turner looked her in the eyes, she looked back at him and smiled faintly for a couple seconds. “I love you.”

“I know…” Sam said quietly, the two of them sat there quietly as the fire continued to crackle behind them. The day continued from that point on with muted intensity, both Sam and Turner found themselves a bit more distant as each wrestled with themselves over the curve ball they’d been thrown. Eventually some semblance of normalcy returned, they laughed, they talked, they watched the occasional movie. All the while, the fear of what could happen loomed over them in the recesses of their minds… They were young, after all… At least young enough to still think themselves invincible.

Author's Note

EDIT: Did a couple small edits since I noticed a couple typos and a minute continuity error after posting the first time.