Word: Quit
Mentions of previous deaths/the Island, PTSD, 2.6k words
He hummed quietly. He was completely focused. Because, seriously, what song was that?
"Dakota?"
Vinnie looked up, his humming trance breaking. Cavendish was turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
"What on earth are you doing?"
"Heh, sorry Cavendish, I got a little caught up- I've got this one song stuck in my head that I jus' can't figure out…" He made a face, going back to humming. He paused a step, falling into line behind Cavendish long enough for a kid on a bike to pass them, yelling, "Thanks!" over his shoulder. As soon as the teen passed, Dakota took up his place beside Cavendish yet again.
"Well, what is it? Maybe I can help?"
He chuckled, and Cavendish stuck his tongue out maturely. "What? Why are you laughing?"
He paused, glancing up through his tinted glasses to smile at his partner. The other lost the pouty look on his face, giving a one sided smile back. Dakota noted the passing cars in his partner's glasses. "Sorry, just- we kinda have different music tastes, don'cha think, Cav?"
The Brit turned to look ahead, nodding thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose so. But I might still be able to help! I've...been looking at your song recommendations…"
Oh? "Wait- really?"
"I mean- well, of course. We may have differing tastes, like you said, but your songs are- Dakota! What the blazes are you doing-!"
He froze. What? He wasn't doing anything, was he? He was just walki-
Oh.
Oh no.
His eyes widened when he realized that he had indeed done something. Something that he hadn't even realized, something that was pure instinct at this point, even if he knew it shouldn't have been.
He'd grabbed Cavendish by the arm, and yanked him backwards as they'd approached the crosswalk. Though he was certain his distracted mind had a good reason for it, he wasn't quite sure what it was, since the cars weren't driving necessarily close to the curb, or even vaguely dangerously for that matter. He'd roughly pulled Cavendish back onto the sidewalk for virtually no reason, his hand still wrapped tightly around his partner's bicep.
He squeaked, letting go.
"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry Cav! I don't- I'm not, uh, I'm not actually s- uhm, sure? I don't-"
Oh gosh, what did he do? And, more importantly- why?
Okay, no. He knew why. He hated that he knew why.
He took a deep breath. Gotta fix this.
"Aw, Cav- I'm really sorry. I think I zoned out- and, and, it was just instinct, I guess…'m sorry."
Silence, long and uncomfortable, puddled between them. They were pushed up against the side of a tall building to allow pedestrians to pass them as they spoke, and Dakota could hear the cars on the side of them stop as the light changed. Please say something Cav.
"Is- is this because of the Island? Or, I suppose- me?"
He flinched. It felt strange to be reminded of the Island since they were kicked to this new timeline. And after the Dakotas came to help them.
"Uh- kinda. I just- I think I got an instinct now. For danger, I guess? Sorry, I know that was probably annoying and unexpected, but I think it's a habit now…"
A bad habit. Just as bad as smoking or alcohol. It was useful earlier, when he was tiring of going back in time, that was certain. But now, it felt...weird. That's the best way he could describe it. It felt weird and strange and...just something he didn't need anymore.
He should quit.
Easier said than done.
"Oh." Cavendish's voice snapped him back to reality. He'd been so far gone in his own thoughts, that the world around him faded. He flinched lightly as the noises of the cars beside them kicked up, deafening him for a second, the chattering of the people that were once faded, amplifying yet again. He looked up at Cavendish, wanting something to focus on.
"Well. If- if it's any consolation, I was going to stop on the crosswalk?"
Dakota stared as Cavendish looked at him, somewhat nervous. Suddenly, the corner of his mouth kicked up, and a snort escaped him. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, hiding his grin, though it was too late. His partner's face changed from nervous to dumbfounded.
"I'm...sorry?"
"S-sorry! Just-" Shit it was too much. Another snort shot from him and he leaned forward a bit, finally allowing himself to laugh freely, passersby looking at him strangely.
Finally, he managed to compose himself just enough to stand up, grinning at Cavendish's incredulous expression. "Sorry! Just- Yeah, I know you were going to stop. I'm not that stupid, Cav!"
His partner looked on at him, unimpressed. "With humor like that, you might as well be." He mumbled under his breath.
"Bal!"
It was a little chilly today. And the wind was kicking up. Shame, it would've been a nice day to walk around otherwise.
"Are you ready?"
Dakota tore his eyes from the window, where he was hypnotized by the tree branches bouncing slightly in the wind. He was about to respond in affirmative, when he narrowed his eyes, frowning at Cavendish's outfit choice. Something his partner immediately noticed.
"What? What's wrong?"
"You're going out like that?"
Cavendish cocked an eyebrow, looking over his traditional outfit with a quick eye. The only addition was a darker green scarf wrapped haphazardly around his neck. "Yes? This is what I always wear?"
Sighing, Dakota leaned against the wall next to the window, pulling their cream colored curtains to the side. "Yeah, but look outside!"
"Yes…?"
"It's windy! You'll catch a cold if you go out just like that." Or maybe he'll slip on some icy patch, or cold patch, or get pushed by the wind into a dangerous situation, or someone else could get affected by the wind putting him in a dangerous situation, or there's always the possibility of-
"You're doing it again."
"Hm?" Dakota glanced up from their box of winter clot- Wait.
What the hell?
He glanced at the gloves he'd been picking out in shock, then at Cavendish. His partner was leaning against the wall next to him, curious eyes watching his movements closely. Dakota jumped slightly, not even realizing when his partner had moved. "Huh?"
Cavendish pushed off from the wall, gently taking the gloves from Dakota's hand, placing them back into the 'Winter Clothing' box and returning it to its proper place. "You're doing it again. You know, that thing where you get that look in your eyes and then you started to pull me to the winter box, muttering something about it being too cold and windy and dangerous outside, and started getting me some gloves." He turned, catching Dakota's eye.
"Oh." Why couldn't he remember that? Was it really just so instinctual? "Really?"
"Mhm." Cavendish stepped next to him, wrapping an orange-brown scarf that he'd taken from the box around Dakota's neck. "I'm starting to think you can't help this 'instinctive protection' thing, am I right?"
He nodded, raising his chin for Cavendish to knot the scarf snugly. "Yeah, sorry. I guess it's like second nature now. I don't even realize when I do it."
Cavendish stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "So I've noticed. But, Dakota, I'm fine. I'm safe, yes? We're both in this new decade, and we're here together. Without a time travelling vehicle. Honestly, I can still hardly believe you'd do such a thing for me. But you needn't worry anymore, understood?"
"Well...yeah, I guess you're right. Sorry, Cav."
He smiled. "It's quite alright. Now. Should we get going?"
"Mhm." Dakota grabbed the keys, following Cavendish out the door and making a promise to quit being such a guardian for the Brit. He'll try his best.
Dakota breathed out a sigh. It was a beautiful day. The sun was high above the sky, perfectly obstructed by the clouds so that it wasn't too bright, nor too muggy. The temperature was just right, and people seemed cheerful, waving hello as they walked by.
Turning right on the corner, Cavendish and he looked into the random storefronts, pointing out little items and making stories out of them as they walked.
"That doll served in the 1993 war on Dollhouse Lane." Dakota said with a grim tone, though his smile betrayed him. Cavendish met his somber tone, a twinkle in his eye.
The Brit continued, "She was the captain of her own platoon, holding up brave and fierce."
"She'd been in many battles, but the one she couldn't face was…" Dakota pointed at a random store window, snorting when he realized they were passing a restaurant, and waving apologetically to the startled couple inside. They scampered off, laughing at Dakota's mistake, the made-up story quickly forgotten. "Whoops!"
"Oh, that poor couple! They looked so surprised! I can't believe you've done that Dakota!" Cavendish snickered, elbowing his partner.
"I didn't know! I was just following your story telling!"
"Clearly you followed wrong!"
Passerby's eyed them suspiciously as they once more burst into laughter, the utter joy bouncing off of the building walls towering high above them. Wiping at a tear, Dakota tugged Cavendish's jacket, looking both ways in preparation of jaywalking in the middle of the street they were in.
"Dakota? Why are we crossing? Our destination is a few more blocks away, on the right side of the street. There's no point in crossing."
"Uh, I wanted coffee." Wait, no he didn't. That was a blatant lie. And a bad one at that.
"But you don't even like drinking much coffee?"
"Yeah, but- no, wait. Give me a sec." Okay, lying and avoiding something. Alright, where was the danger- "Ah."
"What is it?" Cavendish followed Dakota's gaze, as he stared up at the last building of the street, right where they were meant to cross straight. There were construction tunnels set up, and a crane positioned high in the air, actively moving materials about. There was the danger. "Oh."
Cavendish lightly tugged him back from the street, but Dakota couldn't tear his gaze away from the construction sight. He felt like a child, scared of something that's so much bigger than him, an invisible danger others couldn't see. A monster under his bed. Or, rather, above, in this case.
"Is it the protection thing again?" They should get a better name for what happens. Dakota nodded. His eyes never wavered. "Yes, well, I suppose an active construction site could be dangerous. Uh- Could you look at me Dakota?" He probably should.
He couldn't.
He was forced to. Cavendish, bless the tall Brit, stood in front of him, even going as far as to stand on his tippy toes to block Dakota's line of sight. "Dakota. Eyes on me."
This time he could. Turquoise eyes met his own heterochromatic pair. They grounded him. He took a deep breath. Cavendish frowned at him slightly.
"Dakota, dear, I think you might have PTSD. I mean, it would make sense. But, now you're not just doing that 'instinctual protection' thing, your- Vinnie?"
His partner gasped as Daktoa wrapped his fingers around his wrist, being careful to avoid skin to skin contact, knowing it made Cavendish uncomfortable. "Fine." He mumbled, before tugging his taller partner close behind him, stepping underneath the construction safety tunnel, moving his fingers to feel the comforting cloth of his partner's black jacket. Cavendish fell in line next to him, walking closer than they usually did. He appreciated it.
He mentally repeated that they were fine, they were walking like normally, without danger. There hasn't been an overly life threatening danger to Cavendish in months. They were fine. He had no reason to worry.
And before he knew it, they were stepping on the crosswalk, following the crowd as the white walking man lit up. He took a deep breath once they crossed to the other side of the street.
"Better?"
Dakota nodded, unable to stop the little smile that slipped through. They got through that. No big deal. And Cavendish was fine.
He looked up. "Are ya okay, Cav?"
His partner simply smiled at him. "Of course I am. There wasn't much danger there, so I'm fine. See?"
Of course. Cavendish was standing in front of him, indeed alive and well and not a single scratch on him. Not one of the hundred and five scenarios that had raced through his mind the minute he saw the construction, had happened. They were fine.
"Yeah...thanks Cav."
"Of course. I'm proud of you."
Snowflakes were beautiful.
Dakota admitted it.
He loved the way they looked, and the way they fell and felt. He loved how they could be a single thing, or could be made into a snowball for a fight, or a decorative snowman. Or a simply too satisfying pure white field.
"OOF!" He grunted as something hit his back.
Right now, though, it was used as in their snowball fight.
He whirled around, echoing Milo's laugh. Besides him, Cavendish was grinning, shaping a snowball. Dakota raised the one he'd been readying when he was hit, sticking his tongue out as he aimed. "Oh, you're going to get it for that, Zach!"
Zach blew a raspberry in his direction, then ducked for cover. "If you can hit me!"
Snickering, he stepped closer, trying to find a way to hit Zach...and yelping as a snowball met his chest squarely. "Cavendish!"
His partner grinned, a twinkle in his eyes. Dakota loved seeing the rare screw-the-rules moments in him. "Whoops."
Cheeky bastard.
Laughing out loud, he chased his partner, still holding onto his snowball. Cavendish slid along the icy pathway, and managed to slip his way up the steps of the small park gazebo, the pretty baby blue top covered in snow. Taking a shot, Dakota threw his snowball, anticipating it's path…
...and being disappointed when it smacked into one of the beams holding up the roof.
He chuckled, though his laughter was caught short when the humongous pile of undisturbed snow shook a bit, the miniature icicles just forming shaking. It was almost instantaneous, how his mind ran.
Buried in snow, concussion, unable to breath, head trauma, icicles, slipping on the ice, falling off…
He was about to break into a sprint across the icy pathway when he froze. He couldn't-
Just then, Cavendish turned around to look back at him, and managed to look up, noting the snow about to collapse through the open roof. He stepped back, hiding under a piece of roof that would give him just enough cover, avoiding the icicles as well. Dakota watched as the snow fell harmlessly around his partner, a good few feet of it burying the floor of the gazebo, a few holes in the snow where the icicles fell.
Cavendish chuckled from his position of safety, bending down to make a snowball. He was about to throw it when he caught Dakota's wide eyed stare. Realization dawned.
Trudging through the calf-height snow, Cavendish carefully made his way down the steps of the gazebo, slipping and sliding his way across the ice pathway to his partner.
"Dakota? Are you alright?"
He swallowed, his mouth cold. "Are you?"
"Wha- Oh. Yes, I'm quite alright. But, are you?"
He was...alright.
Dakota breathed out a sigh of relief. He was alright. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm all good. But- here!" Taking advantage of Cavendish's momentary worry, he kicked at the snow, throwing it up with his foot, covering Cavendish in it. His partner yelped, stepping backwards, before hurling himself at Dakota, laughing.
Dakota, on the other hand, had no plans of being caught. He twirled out of Cavendish's outstretched hand, running back to the kids, yelling at Melissa to prepare the extra snowballs.
Thinking all the while that, yes, they were fine. Cavendish was fine. Even if there was danger, he could handle himself. He could quit his "instinctive protection". He didn't need the Island reactions anymore.
They were going to be fine.
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