Word: Enemy

Violence, some language, 2.3k words

Cavendish breathed out a sigh. He threw a glance at the clock- Dakota was late. Though, looking outside, he wasn't surprised. It was incredibly stormy. The wind was slamming into his windows, and he could hardly see the street through the sheets of rain. Perhaps he should call Dakota, and tell him not to bother…

As he reached for his phone, it dinged with a message.

Dakota; Sry I'm late! Traffic's slow w/ storm omw thou!

He huffed, smiling. Of course. Not even a treacherous storm could keep Dakota from their arranged plans.

Cavendish; Of course, it's no problem. Please be careful, though.

A thumbs up emoji was what he received in reply, and a loud sound from outside made him jump.

"Goodness! You'd think weather prediction would be perfected this far into the future by now…" he mumbled, pulling the curtains tighter together after watching a whirlwind spin in the rain, carrying small bits of somethings that the wind picked up.

Honestly, he should just tell Dakota to turn back. It was much too dangerous, either in a vehicle or on foot…

Another smack against the side of his building made him jump, now hoping that Dakota would get here sooner. Selfish, maybe, but at least it'd be comforting once he got here.

Pli'k.

Okay, maybe not.

The lights just went out.

"Blast-"

Oh, why now of all times?! Why did he have to be left in pitch blackness now?!

He turned away from the window, flinching as something heavy seemed to hit the glass behind the curtains. Good lord, he'll have a heart attack from all this before Dakota gets here.

He shuffled carefully to the middle of his living room, waving his hands in front of him blindly in hopes of hitting something that might help. He'd have to be extra careful now, he'd set out some snacks and miscellaneous items for Dakota's visit (or sleepover as he'd called it). He hoped he didn't trip over anything.

Blast, where did he keep the flashlight again? And why weren't the backup generators working? Has the whole grid been completely destroyed? What if-?

"Eep!" Cavendish jumped as something pounded at the door. That must be Dakota. Goodness, he frightened him!

He shuffled over the door, nearly tripping over a pillow that fell off the couch on his way. The pounding continued relentlessly. "Alright, alright Dakota, I'm coming!" To be fair, he probably wanted to get out of the rain. Cavendish wouldn't blame him.

Finally, he reached the door, fumbling for the handle in the dark. The wind practically burst it open and he quickly ushered Dakota's shaking figure in, hefting it closed yet again with all his strength.

"My goodness, Dakota! I can't believe you'd actually come here in this weather. It's like a tornado outside!"

He turned to look at the shadowy figure, who had his arms wrapped around himself tightly, shaking in a jacket that didn't look like his typical orange and brown one. Cavendish squinted at him, but it was too dark.

"Ah, apologies, Dakota. I think my electricity went out. Did you see if the rest of the block went out too? Here, give me your jacket and go change- I have some clothes-Vincent!"

Cavendish gasped out loud as his hand touched Dakota's to take his jacket. It was freezing. Much colder than was safe.

"You're absolutely freezing! Quick, go to the bathroom and warm up with warm water- I'll get you some extra clothes. I have warm drinks ready, we just need a light."

Dakota chuckled lowly in front of him. His voice sounded hoarse, deeper than it usually was. Likely from the weather. "Thanks, Cavendish. Don't worry about the light. I'm fine with the dark."

He ushered the Italian forward, watching as he staggered forward with stiff movements. "Mm, yes, well I'm sure it'll be more comforting with some light, and it'll be easier to move about. Go wash up, I'll get the clothes."

Dakota leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, turning back to face him. Something about his shadowy figure felt strange. "Heh. Suppose so. Thanks again Cavendish. He doesn't deserve you."

Cavendish looked up from where he was checking on the hot water in the kitchen. "I'm sorry, what…?" But Dakota was already gone. Hmph. Strange. He probably misheard, is all.

As he turned to head towards his room to pick out some warm, dry clothes for Dakota, his phone pinged. He spotted the light as it lit up the room, and for a moment, Cavendish could see again. Of course, why hadn't he thought of using his phone as a light?! So stupid of him.

He stepped towards the already dying light, grimacing as his sock lightly soaked something up. Was that water? It felt a bit stranger...oh, if Dakota had trekked water into the house, he was going to kill him!

In addition too, if the notification was about the weather, then, he could guess what-

His blood froze. He gasped.

Dakota; Cav, I'm sorry, I got in an accident. Nothing serious, promise! Brakes went weird, is all. Just gotta talk to this gal, and then I'll be right by! I'm like a block away.

What?

His fingers shook, and his breathing seemed too loud.

Cavendish; Don't play games, Dakota. You're in the bathroom right now, right?

Behind him, Cav was suddenly painfully aware of the water in the bathroom. It sounded loud- good, the...imposter? was still washing-

The water turned off.

His phone dinged. Rapidly.

Dakota; What?

Dakota; Wait

Dakota; Cav get out thats not me

Dakota; Running get out not me

Not me.

Then who the bloody hell was this?!

The door opened.

Cavendish fumbled with his phone, silencing it and hiding it in his pocket. The room seemed much darker now that he'd adjusted to the bright screen. He debated leaving right then and now, but through the dark, he could see the shadowy figure exit the bathroom. A gruff voice rang out.

"Cavendish? Do you have bandaids? I, uh. Got hit by something in the storm."

The voice seemed so rough and gravelly. Definitely not done by the weather. He forced his voice not to shake.

"Ah, uhm, yes! I do. They should be, uhm-" Oh no, he was blanking, panicking, no, not now, not now. He couldn't risk this now!

The imposter Dakota stepped closer, hands up. His thoughts stopped. His muscles froze.

"What's wrong, Cavendish? You don't look so good. You okay?"

Answer him you idiot! "Uhhhm YES! I'm perfectly fine! Just spooked by the storm's all! Bandaids- uh, underneath the sink I believe. You, ah, should take a shower, too! Warm yourself up. I'm sure the sink wasn't beneficial enough?" Okay, not that much, now you're just blabbering.

The figure grew ever more clear as his eyes adjusted to the dark yet again. He watched as he stepped closer, raising a hand in a shrugging motion. He swore he saw something slip down his hand, dripping onto the floor. For some reason he got the feeling that it wasn't water.

"Oh, I'm okay. Warm 'nough. If you want, we can go under the blankets, watch a movie or something...I'm sure that'll be warm."

Another step. Cavendish was frozen to the spot, watching the imposter step closer, hand reaching towards him. Cavendish's breath hitched in his throat, and he could feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the gentle blue glow as his phone lit up, the light muffled by his pocket. Drats.

Dakota made a sound, personifying a question mark. "What was that, Cavendish?"

Bloody hell, what did he do? "Uhm, what do you mean?"

Another step closer. Cavendish had to bite his lip to keep from squeaking. He shuffled backward half a step.

"Lit up. Your phone. What was the notification?"

The fake Dakota's voice dipped down dangerously, and a nervous shiver ran down Cavendish's spine. His hip pressed into a desk behind him when he tried to retreat more. Oh no.

"Cavendish."

He yelped as the fake Dakota grabbed his bare wrist. Though he didn't put much pressure, Cavendish mewled at the uncomfortable contact, pins and needles pricking at his skin. Dako-fake Dakota's hand felt rough and calloused, abused by work and constant usage. Something sticky dripped onto Cavendish' wrist, and he got the sickening whiff of blood.

"Dakota! Stop it, you're hurting me!"

Fake!Dakota leaned in closer and now Cavendish could see the cracked glasses he traditionally wore, five seconds from being completely shattered. His eyes looked...crazed, for a lack of a better word. He was smirking as he lightly tightened his grip, and Cavendish yelled as the pins and needles worsened, now starting to feel the actual pressure.

"The phone, Cavendish. Give me the-"

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!"

Both Cavendish and Fake!Dakota yelled in surprise as the door burst open, the outside storm slamming into the living room, a bright light blinding them both. Cavendish felt the hand slip from his wrist, before hearing something heavy slam into the floor in front of him. Blinking rapidly, he followed the sudden flashlight that had now clattered to the floor, illuminating both Dakota's.

One was atop the other, absolutely nailing him with punches.

"VINCENT! STOP THAT, ENOUGH!" Cavendish lunged forward, wrapping an arm around Dakota's fist, flinching at the feeling of blood. Below him, he could just about see in the flashlight as Dakota glanced at him, teeth bared in a snarl, eyes dark. They softened as soon as they spotted him.

"Cav!" Dakota, his Dakota, scrambled off of the imposter, throwing his arms around him tightly. For a second, Cavendish stiffened, feeling uneasy as his personal bubble was penetrated, but forced himself to push it aside because Dakota was safe, he was real, he wasn't him.

He reached up with tentative hands, wrapping them around Dakota questioningly, but yes, he really was real, and here. Cavendish collapsed against him, silently crying.

"Shit, Cav, I'm so sorry, are you okay?! Did he hurt you?"

"No, no, I-I'm fine."

Dakota frowned, pulling away. He lightly tapped the hand that the imposter had grasped, and Cavendish involuntarily flinched. It was slightly red in the flashlight.

Something that Cavendish could only compare to a growl emitted from deep within Dakota. He spun around, hand clenched, staring down at the imposter who was on his side, wiping away the blood from his nose- likely Dakota's work.

Now, in the flashlight, Cavendish could see that the fake Dakota looked...incredibly similar to his Dakota actually. The shadowy silhouette that had entered his home in the beginning was enough to convince Cavendish. When he'd heard that it wasn't actually Dakota, he assumed it was someone who had the same overall shape as him and a slightly gruffer voice than he did but..he didn't expect them to look so alike. Like they were the same person.

Were they the same person?

Fake!Dakota glanced up, looking him in the eyes as though he knew exactly what Cavendish was thinking. He turned, moving towards the door to close it against the harsh weather as a way to avoid the eye contact. He only turned back when he heard a thud! and a groan. Dakota now had the fake pinned to the wall.

"What the hell're you doin' 'ere?"

Cavendish swallowed as Dakota's Italian accent slipped through with his anger. Sure, Dakota jokingly brought it out before but...this felt new. He wasn't sure he liked it.

"Heh. Isn't it obvious? I got off the Island."

Island? What Island?

Dakota growled, slightly lifting his counter self, only to slam him back into the wall. Cavendish couldn't help his slip of, "Vinnie!"

"I got that. How'd ya do it, and why? You know tha' fuckin' rule."

The imposter just looked on with a smirk, the still flowing blood from his nose painting his chin and jacket. "Yeah. What about it?"

Just when it looked like Dakota was going to hit him again, his phone pinged. The trio froze.

"Cav. Get my phone. What's the caller?"

"Uhh..I.D.?"

"Heh. So? You're gonna tell him, Mainland?"

"Shut it. Cav, read the message."

Cavendish nodded, even though his partner couldn't see. Taking a deep breath, he read the message out loud, his confusion only growing. "One of the Dakota's got out. We think he's en route. Stop him, we've got our own coming to take him back. Vinnie? Dakota's? What in the bloody hell is going on here?!"

Dakota sighed, dropping his head. The imposter Dakota bore a shit eating grin that, though he wasn't typically violent, Cavendish wanted to smack right off his face.

"Oh, Cav, it's a long story. I promise I'll tell ya everything. But first we need to get this guy back. Text back, that I got him and I'm heading to the docks. I'll meet them there."

Cav jumped as thunder sounded outside the perfect reminder. "What? But you can't possibly leave now! It's storming!" And it was still pitch black, and he was now scared.

Dakota sighed. "Cav, trust me, it's better if I leave right now than later. Now…"

With one quick movement, Dakota slammed the imposter into the ground, chest first, stunning him long enough to slip a zip tie around his hands- did he always have that?

He hefted the fiend onto his feet, leading him to the door. Just before he left, he turned to Cavendish, a slight plea in his eyes visible in the flashlight he left behind. "Cav, I promise, I'll explain everything. Just wait till I come back, okay? I promise I'll tell you everything. Uh. Be careful, use the flashlight if you need it. I'll be right back."

"Uhm. Bye."

The door shut.

Cavendish fell to his knees.

What the hell was that…?

Two Dakota's? No, multiple? Oh good lord...he could only think of one way that was possible.

He really hoped Dakota didn't.

And he really, really hoped the rest of them weren't enemies like this Dakota had been.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Ooo, Dakota's gonna be in some trouble! Fun fact, in total, with notes and a mini summary, this document was 7 pages. When I put only the story in a separate doc to do a word check, there were 8 pages! Still can't figure out why haha

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Reviews are always loved! Hope you all have a wonderful morning/afternoon/evening/night and make time for some rest!