A/N: I usually put more thought into writing my stories, but I'm writing this out mere seconds after thinking it up. This is what happens when, completely out of nowhere, you feel completely empty and don't want to do anything while at the same time feeling like you have to do something. If it was later, I would just go to bed, but it's a good two hours before my earliest time that I go to bed, and I know that I'll just be lying there awake for who knows how long if I go to bed now, so...yeah, here's the story a.k.a. My way of venting my current emotions through whatever character is going through my head.
Dakota sighed to himself and slumped further into the couch. At this point he was more lying across it than sitting on it, but he didn't have it in him to care. On the small side table next to the couch Dakota's notebook lay wide open. It was about halfway filled, and one of the pages that it was turned to was filled. Normally Dakota would be filled with happiness and a strange sense of pride to see a full page, because most of the others only had a couple of lines filled out. Dakota couldn't stand to look at the page at the moment though, because then it would just make the empty page beside it stand out even more.
Dakota hated that empty page. Hated it with a passion. He could swear that it was taunting him.
Dakota sighed again and finally shifted his position so that he was just lying on the couch completely instead of being at the awkward slump that was halfway between lying and sitting. Dakota felt exhausted. It had been a rough day.
Dakota had known from the second he had woken up that it wasn't going to be a good day. Sometimes Dakota could wake up and bounce out of bed, ready to start the day, after just a few seconds. Other times though Dakota would wake up, and then just roll over and think about how much he hated waking up. Dreams were so nice, but reality always had to come in and ruin everything.
This had been one of the bad days from the very start. No matter how many times Cavendish came in to try to wake up, Dakota couldn't bring himself to move. Not even the temptation of breakfast was enough to get him to his feet. The only reason Dakota had been able to force himself out of bed that morning was that he knew that if he let himself lay around all day, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for it. He already felt sometimes like his life was pointless enough, and there was no need to make those feelings worse by not even trying.
The pistachio protecting mission of the day had been the same as any other. They had been given a simple enough sounding mission, and they had failed to no fault of their own. Dakota wasn't really bothered by the failure to accomplish the mission. A part of him believed that they never would successfully protect the pistachios without accidentally causing a hostile takeover, and he was actually okay with that.
Cavendish, on the other hand, wasn't.
Dakota's partner was a proud man, and he wanted respect. Cavendish always got discouraged and frustrated with their assignments. Dakota wasn't really ever bothered by them.
It was Cavendish's attitude that really got to him.
Dakota didn't blame Cavendish at all. Sometimes though, especially on days where he was already feeling bad to begin with, Dakota took Cavendish's discouragement personally. Dakota liked his partner a lot, and knew that he deserved better than to feel like this. Dakota knew that Cavendish would stop feeling so down if they could complete the mission and get assigned to better, more relevant ones.
But it never happened.
Dakota occasionally blamed himself. In his head he knew that it wasn't his fault. Despite what Cavendish occasionally seemed to believe, their continous failure wasn't his fault (and it wasn't Milo's either). They just had bad luck. It happened sometimes.
On Dakota's bad days though he couldn't shake the thought that it was his fault that they always failed. Dakota didn't truly believe that they would get off of pistachio duty, because at this point he couldn't imagine doing anything else, and he was fine with that because it was what he was familiar with. But there was the possibility that Dakota's thoughts about their mission subconsciously led him to hold back on their assignments. That he was somehow holding back because he didn't see the point in trying too hard.
The sad thing was, Dakota didn't really know if this was the case or not. Sometimes he felt like it was, sometimes he knew that it was ridiculous. He wanted to get a second opinion on it, but Cavendish was the only one he was comfortable enough talking to, and no matter what mood Dakota was in that day, he really didn't want Cavendish to hate him for holding them both back just because he couldn't be a little more optimistic.
Optimism. Sometimes Dakota wondered how such a thing was even possible, because it was really hard for him...sometimes. Other times it came as easily to him as it came to Milo.
Dakota couldn't help but grin to himself when he thought about that kid. Milo Murphy was the most optimistic person that Dakota had ever met, and his good mood was actually pretty contagious. Dakota suspected that it was because he had spent the day before with that kid that the page in his notebook was practically full.
It had been a tough and extremely dangerous mission the day before. His and Cavendish's lives, as well as those of four kids, including Milo, as well as the entire world, had been at stake. Dakota was still trying to wrap his head around the sentient pistachio guys, but he had seen weirder things.
Despite all the dangers of the mission, at the end of the day Dakota had no problem finding things to write in his notebook.
The very first thing he wrote down was 'I got to know Milo'. The very last thing he had written down was 'we're all okay'.
The whole page in between those two points included just little notes, such as 'we got to ride in a limo' And 'I'm the clock joker' and 'it is possible to accomplish a mission'. This point had been underlined, because it was an important one.
All of these points on their own just seemed like little small things, but throw them all together and it made an absolutely amazing day. Dakota wanted to feel good when he remembered how amazing he had felt the day before, but he didn't. He just felt a little empty and very discouraged. It had been so easy to write in the notebook the day before, and here he was, struggling for a whole hour to think of just one thing to write about today.
Dakota hadn't had this hard a time with his notebook since the days that he had first started doing it.
Dakota had had the notebook for a long time, before he had even met Cavendish. His previous partner, Hunter, had given it to him the day before it had been found out that he was a double agent and a traitor. Hunter had gotten away and was still out there somewhere. Some people thought that Dakota was in contact with him, which was why they didn't trust him.
Dakota hadn't been in contact with his old partner since he had left, but he did miss him.
Double agent or not, Hunter had been a good friend. The man had been the only one to notice how hard things were for Dakota, and he had been the one to give him a small solution/escape.
"I want you to do something for me, Dakota." Hunter had said as he handed him the notebook. "Every day I want you to write down something that made the day good. No matter how bad the day was, I want you to find something that made it even the slightest bit worthwhile. And I need you to do this every single day, no matter how bad things are, okay?"
Dakota had been confused by the request. There was just something about the way that his partner had said it that made Dakota feel like he was somehow saying goodbye. Of course, he hadn't known at the time that his partner was a traitor. Things had made a bit more sense after he had learned about that little detail.
It was a silly and surprisingly difficult request, but Dakota had promised that he would do it, and even though his partner had been a traitor, Dakota had no plans of ever breaking his promise to him. So every day, no matter what, Dakota wrote something in the notebook. He was usually able to get a few lines in, and sometimes he nearly got a whole page. On his bad days though Dakota could just write a single thing.
And now he felt like he couldn't even do that!
Dakota didn't understand it. He felt like it had been a horrible day, but looking back there wasn't anything that had happened that should make this day any worse than any other. It should be a completely normal day, but it didn't feel like it was, and Dakota hated it. He felt like the day had gone so badly that he couldn't even think of one thing to write down. Nothing had made this day good. Everything though had made it exceptionally average, and then made him feel like average was the same as incredibly wrong.
Dakota hated feeling this way, and it was completely exhausting. He just wanted the day to be over with. At the same time though, he didn't want the day to end quite yet, because then he would feel like it ended without him accomplishing anything, not even writing in his notebook. No, the day couldn't end until he had thought of something.
Except, Dakota realized with disappointment and slight panic, it probably would. One glance at the clock showed that it was 11:37 at night. Midnight was the official end of the day, and Dakota seriously doubted he would be able to come up with anything in less than half an hour.
Dakota frowned and slowly put the notebook back on the table. What was the point? He wasn't going to be able to do it, and it would make him feel any better even if he could. Dakota just felt empty, and the thought that he would have to break his promise to Hunter just made him feel even worse.
Dakota was so tired of feeling this way. He was tired of faking his emotions so that nobody would guess how he truly felt. He was just...he was just tired.
Dakota just wanted the day to end.
Empty notebook page or not, Dakota couldn't deal with feeling this way anymore. So while his gut twisted up with feelings of disappointment towards himself, Dakota lay on the couch and rolled to his side. At this point he felt like the only thing he could do was hope that tomorrow was better.
Dakota woke up slowly the next morning. He still felt half asleep. A part of him felt like rolling over and turning his back on real life, even if it was just for the day. A stronger part of him though smelt bacon and decided that maybe it was worth getting up after all.
Dakota sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He pushed the blanket off of him and...wait a second. Blanket? Dakota was fairly certain that he hadn't fallen asleep anywhere near a blanket the night before.
"Ah, Dakota, you're up earlier than I expected you to be." Dakota looked away from the blanket to see Cavendish standing in the kitchen door. It seemed he had been making breakfast. "I trust you slept well."
"Well enough." Dakota said. He looked back at the blanket, and then back at Cavendish. "Did you…"
"Uh, yes, I did." Cavendish said, with just a small amount of embarrassment. "You seemed a little cold when I found you." Dakota rarely ever got cold, but he appreciated the thought. He was just about to express his thanks when his eyes fell on his notebook. It was open, even though Dakota could swear that he had closed it before falling asleep. And, what's more, the blank page wasn't so blank anymore, even though Dakota knew that he hadn't written anything on it.
"What…?" Dakota picked up his notebook. That definitely wasn't his handwriting on the page. It looked more like Cavendish's. Dakota looked up at his partner. "Did you…"
Cavendish looked even more embarrassed than before, and slightly ashamed. "I do apologize, Dakota. When I saw that you hadn't written anything in it last night, even though you are usually so adamant about it, I decided to take it upon myself to write in something for you."
"I-It's fine." Dakota said as he stared at Cavendish's writing without truly reading what it said. It felt strange to have somebody else write something in for him. Especially since Dakota knew that Cavendish only had a very basic idea of what the notebook was for.
Dakota stared at the writing for a few moments before he actually began to read it. When he saw what Cavendish had written, Dakota felt his breath catch in his throat. There, written neatly at the top of the page was eight simple words. 'You have a partner that cares about you'
"When did you write this?" Dakota asked, though he was almost afraid to hear the answer.
"It was nearly midnight." Cavendish said, which made Dakota look at his partner in shock for two reasons. The first being that Cavendish rarely stayed up later than eleven. The only times Dakota had seen Cavendish up and about so late was when Dakota himself had yet to go to bed and Cavendish wanted to convince him to at least be in the bedroom so he knew where he was. This meant that Cavendish had been awake just because he had wanted to check on Dakota.
The second reason the time had shocked Dakota was that if Cavendish had really written it before midnight, than it had still technically been written yesterday. Dakota hadn't failed in his promise to Hunter to have something written in the notebook every single day.
Cavendish had helped him to keep a promise that he didn't even know about.
"Dakota, are you alright?" Cavendish asked in a concerned voice.
"Yeah, I'm cool." Dakota said with a small, sincere laugh, and he meant it. "So, what's for breakfast."
"Just bacon and eggs." Cavendish said, as though they didn't have cereal practically every single day. "You seemed a little...off yesterday, and I thought you would appreciate it."
"...You noticed?" Dakota asked in a small voice. Cavendish huffed indignantly at his question.
"Of course I noticed." Cavendish actually sounded offended that Dakota would believe otherwise. "We are partners, after all."
Dakota didn't know what to say to that. He was too surprised that Cavendish had noticed. Somehow it was even more surprising than when Hunter had noticed how down he got sometimes. What really surprised Dakota was that Cavendish was usually the kind of person who liked to understand everything, and yet he accepted without complaint that Dakota, who always tried so hard to at least come off as content with life, had had an off day. Cavendish hadn't interrogated him about it, or tried in vain to make him feel better. He had just accepted it.
He just accepted him.
"So," Cavendish gestured back to the kitchen. "I imagine you're hungry." He said it teasingly, because Cavendish knew that Dakota was always hungry.
"Course I am." Dakota grinned. "Just let me do something first." Cavendish shrugged and returned to the kitchen. Once he was gone Dakota looked back down at his notebook. He picked up the pen from the side table and brought it to the page, just under Cavendish's words.
You have a partner that cares about you.
Dakota took his pen and added his own two cents to what Cavendish had written. Last night he hadn't had anything to say, but now he knew exactly what he should write.
Yeah, I do.
Dakota smiled to himself when he looked at his sloppy scrawl underneath Cavendish's neat penmanship. It actually made him happy to see the small phrases. And happiness, real happiness, wasn't exactly a feeling that Dakota was familiar with. Reading Cavendish's words though reminded Dakota of what Hunter used to tell him. That happiness was in the little things, he just had to find them.
A/N: Huh. Nearly 3000 words in two hours. I think that's a new record for me. I apologize if sometimes my wording was difficult to understand, especially at the beginning. I express myself easier through written words than spoken, but when I get in one of my moods I have a hard time finding the words to say at all. I think I did okay though.