Dakota knew that this dimension's Cavendish was different from his, but he thought it would only be in big ways. Dakota was brought deeper into the B.a.T.T. headquarters, and the deeper they went the more domestic and homey things looked. He'd never been this far into B.o.t.T. headquarters, but he was sure that it wasn't full of reading nooks, a grand piano, a kitchen that looked like it was just for baking, and a room full of stuffed animals of all colors and sizes.

Everything was colorful, making it look bright even though the lighting itself was kind of dim. There seemed to be speakers in every room, playing soft classical music or white noise. Dakota thought it wasn't so much about music, and it was just to not have silence.

What Dakota found weirdest of all though was that Cavendish had a more simplistic and almost minimalist view when it came to decoration. He didn't like things to be clustered, and yet every room had more needless bits of furniture than the last.

"Do you, uh, like mess?" Dakota asked.

"Hm?" Cavendish gave him a curious look. He looked around the halls. "Oh, yes, that. No, I am not that fond of how cluttered everything is, but the mild annoyance I feel when I see the mess doesn't hold a candle to the relief and comfort that it brings."

Dakota frowned. "Why would it be a comfort?"

Cavendish grimaced and straightened his jacket. "We'll speak about the differences between our realities soon enough, but I want to save such a heavy topic for after breakfast."

Cavendish brought him into another kitchen, separate from the baking one. Dakota had no idea why there were two kitchens, or why this place was so spacious when it just seemed like it was where somebody lived. He could believe Cavendish being so dedicated to his work that he would live at headquarters, but he wouldn't have bothered to make this place look so comfortable and free of anything that looked even remotely related to work. Since coming back here Dakota hadn't seen any sign of agents or other workers. If he didn't know any better, he would think that he had stepped into yet another dimension.

"I hope you're fine with an English breakfast." Cavendish said as he started to grab eggs, sausage, and tomatoes from the fridge.

"You know me." Dakota said. "I'm fine with whatever." He looked over Cavendish's shoulder. "Do you want some help?"

Cavendish paused and looked at him. "Do you want to help?"

Dakota was thrown off by the question. Cavendish didn't usually ask him what he wanted. He didn't know how to respond.

"I, uh, I don't know." Dakota said uncomfortably. Cavendish gave him a gentle smile.

"Why don't you take a seat." Cavendish said. "I'll make breakfast, and if you want to assist just say the word."

"Okay." Dakota sat at the table and watched Cavendish cook. It was a weird sight. "I don't think I've ever seen you cook before." They always just got ready-made meals or take-out.

"I'm still getting used to it, but it's a skill that I believed was necessary." Cavendish said. I'm sure you've figured it out, but I have a lot of enemies and people who would like to do us harm." He looked over his shoulder, looking pointedly at the cut on Dakota's head. He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I just fell." Dakota muttered. Cavendish hummed, not necessarily dismissively, but he clearly didn't believe him.

"You know, if Brick and Savannah did anything to you you can inform me." Cavendish said.

"This isn't their fault." Dakota said loudly. They'd been so scared of being accused of just this. Cavendish still didn't seem to believe him. Dakota felt like the only thing that would make him believe him was if he told the truth. "Look, me and my Cavendish were just walking on the streets and some people that I don't know kinda attacked us. It's not that bad. I really just fell…after they pushed me. But that's the worst they did, I swear."

Cavendish frowned. He turned his attention from the food and gave Dakota his full attention. "You're scared of me."

"I'm not scared." Dakota said honestly. "I could never be scared of you." He tapped his fingers on the table. "I'm just trying to figure out why everybody else is so scared."

Cavendish sighed, looking conflicted for a moment before turning his attention back to Dakota. "They're scared because I've tried really hard to be somebody to be feared."

"You…huh?" That didn't sound like Cavendish at all. How could he say something like that so nonchalantly?

"I haven't had a choice." Cavendish said. "I needed to make sure you were safe." It sounded like it was something that he had said hundreds of times, and he was willing to patiently say it again a hundred times more.

Dakota felt sick to his stomach. He was desperate for something to eat, but at the same time he felt like he was going to be ill if he ate anything.

"Safe from what?" Dakota asked, though he was terrified of the answer. Cavendish grew deathly still, and Dakota was sure that the man wouldn't answer him. A long minute passed before Cavendish slowly turned the slightly burned sausages.

"I had wanted to wait to discuss this until after breakfast, but I suppose we can't put it off." Cavendish turned the heat down for the sausages so they would cook slower before he came and sat down across from Dakota. "I don't know for sure where our timelines split, but I know of at least one series of events that happened to us that you weren't plagued with."

There was a deep pain in Cavendish's eyes, but just under that was a layer of fury. None of that anger showed through his voice. "You broke the rules. You did something that people didn't like, and you were punished for it. Severely. I-I wish I had been able to save you, but I didn't even know until it was too late."

"What happened to me?" Dakota asked. "I-I'm not dead, am I?"

Cavendish shook his head. "No, though it could be argued that death would have been kinder." He took off his hat and ran his hand across the rim of the glasses on top. "Does your world have the Condemned Corridor?"

Dakota shuddered and slowly nodded. They all knew of B.o.T.T.'s prison/torture chamber, where prisoners were kept in isolation, separate from time. They would be forced to relive all of their worst memories, often with the invading burden of interrogators going along for the ride. Dakota used to have nightmares as a young agent about being locked up in there. After he started saving Cavendish, the nightmares had returned.

"My Vinnie was in there for a week." Cavendish said. If hearing a version of his partner call him Vincent was weird, Vinnie was absolutely bizarre. "Block brought me into his cell and said that I could keep my job if I killed my partner."

That was a lot to take in, and Dakota was having a hard time wrapping his head around it. Finally he forced himself to focus on the one thing that he could actually think about without breaking down.

"Were you in trouble too?" Dakota asked. Cavendish made a sound that was a cross between a sob and a chuckle. It was a very undignified noise to hear from him.

"I just told you that you were tortured, and you're worried about me." Cavendish shook his head. "I know you're the same person, but it astounds me how similar you are." Cavendish sighed. "I wasn't exactly in trouble, but Block was worried. I was the reason why you broke the rules in the first place. He specifically wanted me to be the one to kill you. He said it was because he wanted to know who I was royal to, but I suspect that he just wanted another way to torture you and control me."

"What did you do?" Dakota asked. He knew that Cavendish hadn't gone through with killing him, but something had to have happened.

"I turned the weapon on Block, killed him, and got you out of there." Cavendish said casually. Dakota felt like a pit opened in his stomach. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Cavendish's eyes widened. He came out of his seat and came to kneel on the ground in front of Dakota. He took his hands.

"Darling, Darling, it's okay." Cavendish said gently. He put one of Dakota's hands on his chest and pressed the other against his own. Feel my heart. Feel your heart. We're both alive. We're both right here."

Dakota could feel his heart all right. He could feel it pounding in his ears, and it also seemed to be breaking. "Y-you killed-"

"Don't think about that." Cavendish said. "Here and now. You and me. This is all that matters."

Cavendish's voice was very soothing, and Dakota wanted to close his eyes and let himself be reassured, but how could he? His partner had killed their old boss. If everybody else's panic was anything to go off of, he had probably killed a lot more than just Mr. Block.

Dakota made a keening sound and he tried to pull away from Cavendish. His partner had killed people for him. People were dead because of him. They were gone, and they were never going to come back, and that was on him.

Dakota pulled his hands away from his partner as though he'd been burned. He grabbed at his hair and gave it a sharp pull.

"Dakota, don't do that." Cavendish said sharply. He barely understood him.

"It's my fault." Dakota muttered. It should be nice for Cavendish to care about him above anything else. It should be a dream come true. This though, it was an absolute nightmare. If somebody had to die for Dakota to be appreciated by his partner, he would rather Cavendish just up and abandon him again. It hurt, but at least the suffering was just for him. Nobody else needed to go through this.

Cavendish continued trying to talk to him, but it just sounded like noise in his ears. He didn't notice when Cavendish's look of concern became one of determination as he stood up and left the kitchen. He didn't notice the smell or sizzling sound of the sausage cooking. He didn't notice the pain in his scalp as he pulled tighter on his hair. His mind was going both a thousand miles an hour, and it was completely frozen. He couldn't think.

It felt like a long time passed before he felt pressure on his legs. There was a whining sound and nudging against his chest. Dakota didn't react. The pressure increased and he felt a wet grip around one of his wrists. It gently pulled until he loosened his grip on his hair and let his hand be pulled away.

Dakota opened his eyes, not even aware of when he had closed them. The first thing he saw was a dog. A bloodhound. It was slobbering all over his wrist, which it was holding in his mouth. Dakota blinked a few times. He slowly released his hair with his other hand, which felt like an impossible task. He felt like he needed to pull on his hair, but stronger than his panic was his love for animals and his desire to pet the dog in front of him.

"H-hey, girl." Dakota pet the big dog. "Boy?" It was so hard to tell from here. The dog let go of his wrist and licked his face. He smiled and hugged it. The dog nuzzled against him. "Good dog."

The dog barked and climbed off his lap. Dakota felt his chest tighten, as though to try to make up for the weight of the animal. The dog bit his jacket and began to pull. Not hard enough to rip it, but the dog clearly wanted him to follow. He stood up on shaking legs and let the animal lead him back down the hall into the room full of stuffed animals.

The bloodhound let go of Dakota, only to pounce on him. He hadn't expected the weight of a dog, and his legs were already unstable, so he fell and hit the ground, landing on a pile of stuffed animals. The dog sat on top of him and nuzzled close. Being stuck between a dog and dozens of stuffed animals made Dakota feel just shy of being claustrophobic. The pressure actually felt nice.

A dog sitting on his chest didn't make breathing physically easier, but it actually helped him to calm down, which made his breathing even out anyway.

Dakota just laid there for five or ten minutes, breathing, petting the dog, and trying to keep his thoughts from straying back to the horrors that he'd just heard. He wanted to just stay in here, but his stomach was settling and he was starting to smell breakfast from the kitchen. It smelled really appealing.

Hey, doggy, can I get up now?" Dakota asked. The bloodhound licked him one more time and crawled off, though he stayed close to his side. Dakota pet it and stood up. He left the room and headed back. Cavendish was working on breakfast again, looking even more stiff and uncomfortable than before.

"H-hey, Cav." Dakota said.

"I apologize for upsetting you." Cavendish said, and he definitely sounded like he meant it.

"It's…" He trailed off. What was he supposed to say? It wasn't fine that Cavendish had killed anybody.

"It's not fine." Cavendish said. "I know you don't approve of what I did. My Vinnie gets rather upset about it himself. He gets closed off whenever he is reminded of it. Sometimes I can help calm him down. Sometimes my presence just makes him panic even more. Woof Woof can help comfort him when I can't. I'm glad she was able to do the same for you."

Dakota smiled. "Woof Woof?"

Cavendish rolled his eyes fondly. "Yes, you can imagine who thought of that name. I think that Vinnie just wanted me to feel absolutely ridiculous every time I refer to the dog, and it works."

Dakota laughed and pet Woof Woof. "She's a good girl."

"Indeed she is." Cavendish said. He brought a plate of English breakfast to the table. "I had to break my own rules against time travel to get her, but getting Vinnie a companion and fully trained psychiatric service dog was well worth it."

Dakota didn't bother asking why this dimension's version of himself needed a service dog. The Condemned Corridor had completely destroyed people stronger than him. He'd just had a panic attack because another version of Cavendish had done some horrible things for the sake of another version of him. He couldn't imagine how this dimension's Dakota felt about it.

"Can I meet your Dakota?" He asked. Cavendish pursed his lips.

"Possibly." Cavendish said. "You must understand, Vinnie gets overwhelmed easily, and I don't know how he would react to seeing you. Block eliminated the Isle of Lost Dakotas, violently, and Vinnie has not taken it well. I don't know how he'd respond to seeing another version of him. It depends on if he's having a good day or not."

Dakota grimaced and poked at his eggs, making the yoke go everywhere. He'd never liked the thought of something bad happening to other versions of himself. It was why he'd come up with the idea of the Isle of Lost Dakotas in the first place, even though it probably would have been safer to just kill them off. He couldn't believe that Mr. Block would ever do such a thing.

"Did he do all of this just because of the whole going back in time and saving you thing?" Dakota asked.

"Block wasn't very pleased with either of us." Cavendish said. He gave Dakota a concerned look. "Does your Block know about-"

"Yeah, he knows." Dakota said between mouthfuls of food. "I, uh, I wasn't thinking, and I kinda told him. We got fired." He felt bad for saying how easily they got off when this dimension's Dakota and Cavendish had been through so much.

Cavendish sighed in relief. "As far as I can tell, the difference between our dimensions was that Block must have been in a relatively good mood for you. I'm relieved. I would not wish our fate on any version of ourselves.

They finished their breakfast, and Dakota noticed that there was another plate set aside on the counter. "That for your Dakota?"

"Yes." Cavendish said. He stood up. "Do you want to join me? If it becomes too much for either of you we can always try again later."

"Sure." Dakota finished off his toast. He and Woof Woof followed Cavendish down the hall to a bedroom. Cavendish knocked on the door and let himself in. The room was dark. Cavendish turned on a very dim light.

"How are you this morning?" Cavendish asked quietly. "Were you able to get some sleep last night?"

"A little bit." It wasn't weird to hear his own voice. He had been a time-traveler once. What was weird was how uneasy and uncertain this Dakota sounded.

"Any nightmares?" Cavendish asked. He sat on the large bed, next to his Dakota, who ruled over and curled against him. Cavendish stroked the other Dakota's hair. It was an intimate sight, and Dakota felt like he was intruding. Cavendish looked over to him and gave him a reassuring smile.

"No nightmares." The other Dakota said. He sat up. "Did I imagine you saying you needed to borrow Woof Woof?"

"No, I did that." Cavendish said. "I apologize if I startled you. It was a bit of an emergency."

The other Dakota, who he was just going to think of as Vinnie from now on, as Cavendish had called him that and it got a little confusing to think of someone by his own name. Whatever the case, Vinnie sat up, looking incredibly alarmed.

"Emergency?" Vinnie looked panicked. "I-is someone here?"

"No." Cavendish said quickly. Well, there's no threat and no intruder. There's a visitor here though. He wants to see you, if you want."

Vinnie was still for a long moment. "Do you trust him?"

"There are very few people that I trust as much as him." Cavendish said. Vinnie took a deep breath.

"O-okay." Vinnie said. Cavendish looked to the doorway and nodded, gesturing for Dakota to come in. Vinnie blinked when he saw him.

"You're…me." Vinnie said. He didn't sound upset, just confused. "Did you escape from the Isle?"

"No, I'm from another dimension." Dakota said. Woof Woof jumped onto the bed and barked at Dakota. He chuckled. "I like your dog. I wish my Cavendish would let me get a pet."

Vinnie frowned slightly as he pet Woof Woof. "Why won't he let you have a pet?"

"He doesn't think I'm responsible enough or something." Dakota said. They'd had the argument dozens of times, and he could never remember Cavendish's points.

"Where is your Cavendish?" Vinnie asked. This dimension's Cavendish's eyes flashed.

"That's a good point. Where is he?" Cavendish asked. His voice sounded dangerous. "Savannah said you were by yourself when they found you."

"I-I don't know." Dakota said. He fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket. "Cav went after the jerks who attacked us."

Vinnie looked at his Cavendish, whose brow was furrowed. "You were assaulted. You were hurt, and your partner left you behind." Dakota had never heard Cavendish sound so furious.

"It wouldn't be the first time." Dakota mumbled. Cavendish's scowl deepened, and it was clear that he had heard him

Vinnie tugged on Cavendish's sleeve. "You're getting mad again."

"I'm not mad at you." Cavendish said forcefully. "Either of you." He stood up and placed the plate on the bed. "Try to eat something and have fun with each other. I'll try to find Dakota's partner."

"Don't hurt him." Vinnie said. "You know you used to be a jerk too."

"I'm not going to hurt anybody." Cavendish said. "I simply want to talk." He began to walk to the door. "I shan't be gone long." He left the room. As soon as he was gone Vinnie looked more alert. He sat up and leaned towards Dakota.

"Are you really from another dimension?" Vinnie asked.

"Uh, yeah." Dakota said. "Do you really think he's going to hurt my Cav?"

"Nah, he won't touch him." Vinnie said. "He's mad, but he knows that hurting another version of himself is just going to hurt you, and Balthy would never do anything to hurt any version of us."

Dakota frowned. "You saying that knowing he killed someone for your sake doesn't hurt?"

Vinnie flinched and curled his legs up on his chest. Woof Woof whined and nuzzled against him. "T-that's different."

Dakota didn't think he agreed, but Cavendish had already told him that Vinnie got overwhelmed easily and didn't like thinking about what had been done for his sake. It would be cruel to make him think about it just because Dakota didn't know how he was feeling.

"Okay." Dakota said. Vinnie immediately relaxed again.

"What did you mean when you said that Balthy has left you behind?" Vinnie asked.

"It's a long story." Dakota said. Vinnie smiled and scooted closer.

"I love long stories." Vinnie said. "I love Balthy, but you know he's not the best at telling stories, and I don't really get out very much."

Dakota didn't really want to talk about his issues with his partner, but at the same time he wanted his feelings to be validated. Vinnie would understand why he was upset, and maybe he'd be able to offer some advice on how Dakota could bring out Cavendish's more caring side, without there being any murder involved.

So Dakota talked, and man did it feel good to talk to somebody who actually understood. Maybe there was something to Bob Block's suggestion for going to counseling after this mission was over…the mission…oh.

Well, Dakota had figured out why this dimension's Cavendish had taken down the B.o.T.T.. Mr. Block wasn't going to like this at all, but that wasn't what really bothered Dakota. How was he supposed to tell his partner that another version of him was behind all this? What if Mr. Block tried to do something to Cavendish to stop him from doing something like this? Dakota couldn't let that happen. He'd long-since dedicated his life to keeping Cavendish safe, and he wasn't backing off now.

Dakota shuddered as he realized that Cavendish might have been thinking similarly when he killed Mr. Block in this dimension. Dakota didn't want to think that he would ever go that far, but what if he did?

Vinnie frowned and tilted his head at him. He gave him a small, sad smile. "How's Milo doing?"

Dakota blinked. "Huh? He's doing fine. W-why? Did something happen to him here?"

"Nah, I'm sure Milo's fine." Vinnie said. "I just know when I'm feeling bad, thinking about the kid helps. Besides, I haven't seen him in a bit. It'll be nice to know what he's up to."

Unsurprisingly, that was something they had in common. Everything about Milo cheered Dakota up, even if it usually involved catastrophes of some sort. He was a good kid, and his optimism was downright contagious.

So even though Dakota had been in the middle of talking about how it had felt to be alone when Cavendish had left him, he switched stories and started talking about Milo and the whole alien fiasco. It was a much nicer story anyway, as long as Dakota didn't think about Milo's first abduction, or meeting back up with Cavendish.

There were probably a few holes in his story, but if Vinnie noticed them he didn't call him out on it. That was probably the good thing about talking with another version of himself. If anybody knew when to push and when to let things slide, it was him.