Chapter Text
Dakota and his aunt never stayed in one place for too long.
Whether it be job opportunities, or something needing a change of pace, sometimes, he and Alaska wouldn’t stay in the same town for more than a few months, before they were packing up and hitting the road again.
Fresh air- that's what drew her to Deadwood initially.
It was a small town- quiet, and far out of the way of the hustle and bustle of city life. The drive over there was on one lone road with miles of countryside on both sides of the car- and if there wasn't anything growing on those plots of land, then Dakota would watch those lone houses pass them by.
It was sure to be isolated. It's a small town- Alaska said, when the only thing audible in the car would be her fingers stuttering against the steering wheel- quaint. Cute. Whatever she thought would get Dakota’s head up off the side of the car-
But on the drive there, Dakota had this sinking feeling in his stomach. He'd smile at Alaska when she would try bringing up the mood, but aside from that, he hardly moved.
It wasn't the move itself that was bothering him (he realized, on hour 3 of their car ride) he's done it plenty of times before. It was just that… Dakota was used to the hustle and bustle of the city. He was used to the large- frankly, overcrowded- neighborhoods they'd live in. Or the apartments with paper thin walls, and noise around every corner…
Maybe the small, cute, quaint town of Deadwood was appealing to Alaska. Maybe, at some point in her life, when she didn't have him as her responsibility, she enjoyed the quiet- and maybe, she'd been searching for it this whole time- but all Dakota knew was that small chaos. And the thought of staying in a quiet town made Dakota feel uneasy in every sense.
So long as it made Alaska happy, he’d be happy. He set it firmly in his mind. If she wanted to stay, he'd stay with no complaints.
Even if he was convinced, deep down in his bones, that he wasn't going to like it there.
-
It was late when they got to Deadwood.
The streets leading them to their new home were dark- no street or porch lights coming to welcome them, even after they were well into town. The structures were there- if he squinted, and looked at what Alaska’s headlights pointed at, he'd see something pass them by- but nothing that emanated light.
Were they the only ones that lived here? Was that why their new home was so cheap, and why Alaska was insistent on how quiet it was?
That unease shifted to curiosity, as Alaska pulled into the driveway- no remark or anything of the sort, as they stepped out.
When they finally stepped inside their new home, Alaska tried flicking the lights on. Off. The switch would move, but nothing would happen. And at the sight of a cold, desolate room with no light greeting them, she sighed.
Dakota looked up at her, and in the dark, he could hardly see her passive smile. “Are you hungry?”
Alaska thumbed a few bills from her wallet, and handed it over to him- telling him that he could get whatever he wanted from the corner store just down the street- which, on their drive over, had seemed completely unaffected by the town's blackout.
Dakota eagerly dropped his stuff by the door, and rode his skateboard there.
The convenience store in question was right around the corner- lighting up its little section in town like a lighthouse guiding sailors around a foggy fjord.
When Dakota stepped inside the store, a little jingle announced his arrival.
But aside from that- and the slight whirring of fridges and freezers, and the buzzing from the lights hanging high above his head- it seemed like there wasn't any noise that wasn't being made by him. In fact, as he walked around, and his footsteps made a noise that sounded almost intrusive in the quiet ambiance, Dakota was convinced that he was the only one in here.
He wondered if it was closed, despite the lights being on and the door being unlocked. It wasn't that late in the night, but Dakota’s never lived in a town this small before- and without all the sort of traffic that'd come from being in the city, he could easily assume that it wasn’t the same, and that there was no point in keeping it open if they weren’t getting any sales.
At the same time, they were probably in the back. Or busy. He didn't know.
Dakota ducked into the first aisle that caught his interest. The plan was to get junk food, just to tide them over for the night- and then wait eagerly until the next morning, for when Alaska would draw out those bills for a breakfast at the closest diner they could find.
As his eyes scanned over his packaged spoils, all he could think about was the promise for pancakes tomorrow. Sausage, bacon, eggs- syrup and butter with those pancakes- maybe something other than water to drink with it…
Anything else would sour in his mouth from the sheer anticipation of it all. He still grabbed something, and he was still planning on snacking for the night- but he couldn’t seem to curb that excitement of a new place to eat.
That excitement distracted him. He almost just walked up to the counter, and waited for somebody to check him out- and he would’ve, had he not noticed that he wasn’t alone in the store.
He didn’t see this stranger until he left the aisle, and almost bumped into him- but then, when he did, he jumped back.
This stranger wasn’t much to consider. The only interesting thing about him was the fact that he seemed to be the only other person that was in there.
He just looked like a normal kid, somewhere around Dakota's age. He had a head of dark hair, brown eyes. His arms were wide, trying to carry around several items- and when Dakota looked up, he noticed that he was staring at Dakota like he'd grown a second head.
Dakota liked making friends. He liked chatting with strangers, and seeing where it led- he even gave this guy a smile, to be nice- but he did not like the look that this guy was giving him.
And even as this stranger seemed to realize how he was staring, and had the decency to look elsewhere- moving along the aisle, as something else captured his attention- Dakota almost moved on.
Then, he saw that nobody was at the cash register, and realized that, maybe, this stranger was just a disparaging worker, who was surprised to see someone in here at such a late time. His face lit up a bit, as he leaned over into the other aisle.
“Are you guys closed?”
The guy looked over at him and stiffened up, like he got caught doing something he wasn't supposed to- back to staring at Dakota. He opened his mouth, like he was going to say something- and then, it seemed to start making more and more sense.
There was only one guy working today. He wasn’t at the register because he was busy- probably stocking shelves with the same things he was struggling to carry.
And as one of those plastic bottles started slipping out from his arm, and the man twisted to keep it from falling to the ground, Dakota was quick to duck into the aisle, and catch it.
“Thank you?” Was the first thing this stranger said to him. His voice was whispery, and under his breath- and right after, he started looking around- no doubt to find out where it was supposed to go. “Um.”
Dakota slammed it onto the shelf. And when he held his hand out to grab something else, the man backed away from him, to keep him from taking anything. Dakota then looked back at the bottle a little more critically.
Lighter fluid on its own wasn't that suspicious.
Lighter fluid in the wrong aisle being carried by somebody who looked like he was sweating out of every pore in his body- nervously looking between Dakota and the bottle, as he seemed to realize the spotlight he was under- was suspicious. Just enough for Dakota to rethink.
But before he could ask what was going on- or anything, really- someone finally came out of the back, and sprinted past the register.
She, too, was carrying lighter fluid, as well as a few lighters in her palms, and something else that Dakota just couldn't see under her knit sweater. Her haul wasn't as busy, but she was still frantic, and too caught up to move her thick-rimmed glasses back up her face.
“I found-!” She started, confidently, but her shoes squeaked against the floor, as she slipped to a stop in front of the aisle- staring at Dakota with the same intensely worried look on her face.
She blinked at him owlishly. The two looked at each other, and then at Dakota again- like they were in synch- and suddenly, Dakota was having trouble keeping his eye on just one of them.
“We're… closed?” The teen tried- but Dakota was starting to have the sneaking suspicion that they didn't work there at all.
The girl's shoes squeaked as she suddenly ran away, and the chime by the door sounded the girl's quick departure. When Dakota turned back to look at her, he found empty air.
Then, when he turned back to look at the teen, he caught the sight of his hood, as he similarly sprinted towards the door.
Dakota's immediate instinct was to follow them. He cut off the teen by the front, and watched him stumble back, and redirect his route.
“Hey, wait-!”
He followed him into the back- past storage, empty of people, but full of stock that weren't on the shelves.
The teen slammed his weight against the back door, and opened it- and in his attempt to follow, Dakota misjudged just how heavily that door would come swinging back at him once he reached it.
The door slammed against him. A shock of pain ran into his nose, and he stumbled back-
“Sorry!” The teen's muffled voice broke through the doors.
After another second, holding a hand up to his battered nose, Dakota opened the door, and faced the back alley of this convenience store. When he tried the same for the front door, he listened to its bittersweet chime, and watched the two of them run down the street.
It was like a switch had flipped. Suddenly, that quiet boy was jeering with his stunned friend, as they ran down the street- echoing enough down that same street, to let Dakota hear it. They weren't laughing, or cheering- if anything, it just sounded like they were yelling at each other.
Dakota considered going after them, just to see what they were doing- if they were stealing- but, then, Dakota figured it wasn't really worth it.
The cashier never came back. Dakota never got to pay for his snacks, and thus, the trip wasn't really worth it.
On the quiet ride home, Dakota rationalized it to himself- maybe they needed all of those things. Maybe they couldn't wait for a cashier to come back, and would pay for it all later. Somehow.
Maybe they didn't have the money, or resources- maybe this mysterious blackout that didn't affect the convenience store was hitting them, and hitting them hard. And maybe Dakota was being a good samaritan, by choosing to look the other way.
Because of this justification, Dakota was able to go back home with a smile on his face, even if it was to tell his aunt that the convenience store had been closed-
And even if his nose was still hurting, pain stretching from it, to the rest of his face- and keeping him up much later than he wanted to.
-
The next morning, Dakota woke up early, and roamed around this new home of theirs in search of his aunt.
To his surprise, instead of finding her in one of their many empty rooms, he found that their door was cracked open. And when he stepped outside, Alaska was already there- slippers on her feet, shawl thrown over her shoulders, and talking to somebody that Dakota didn't recognize.
The outside air smelled faintly like smoke. It stung Dakota's nose, and eyes- and if this stranger hadn't caught his attention, or if his aunt wasn't already outside, then he probably would've shrunken back into the house.
“It was some old church that burnt down- just outside town.” The stranger- their neighbor, maybe- was reporting to her solemnly, pointing out towards a random direction, as if they'd be able to see it from there. “Nobody knows if it was vandals, or a wild fire…”
“Hm.” His aunt sounded tired. Her head turned, and when she noticed Dakota standing there, her hand sat reassuringly on his shoulder, and rubbed up and down his arm. “Hey, buddy.”
The lady cut herself off from whatever else she was going to say, and instead muttered, “I won't take up too much of your morning- it was lovely meeting you…”
“And you.” Alaska said pleasantly.
Dakota had just the foresight to wait until after the stranger left before he looked up at her, and started talking again.
“Are we still going out?”
Her smile grew wide. Genuine. “I'll get my keys.”
-
There was nobody in the diner when he and Alaska made it there.
Not like how it was on their first night in Deadwood- it wasn’t quiet, and they didn't take long to sit down, and get their menus- but it was something worth noticing. Nobody was sitting in any of the other booths. Nobody was sitting at the bar, quietly drinking coffee, and keeping to themselves.
From where Dakota was sitting, no matter how far he tried sitting up in his seat, he couldn't even see a chef in the back.
And yet, there were menus in front of them, and a waitress that'd be making her rounds in another few minutes- so it wasn't so bad. Dakota tapped away at the menus nervously.
“Was that our neighbor on the porch?”
Alaska nodded.
“She just stopped by to welcome us to the neighborhood.” Slowly, she brushed some of her light hair out of her face, “She wasn't the first one, either.”
“People wake up really early around here…”
Alaska's eyes stuck to the windows. When Dakota followed her gaze, he saw nothing but dead trees, and houses in a dull landscape.
In the city, something like a good sleeping schedule- sleeping during the night, waking up in the morning- were only encouraged if you needed it. But for someone like Alaska, who worked from home, and for someone like Dakota, who usually stayed up late and slept in every chance he got, those things were more of a suggestion.
They could wake and sleep whenever they'd please- there would still be people out and about, no matter what time of day it was. The stores would still be open. But here, in Deadwood, if Alaska fell to old sleeping habits, and if Dakota followed along with her… Deadwood wouldn't come along with them.
The waitress soon came by with drinks, and then food- and Dakota delighted in the same pancakes that he was practically dreaming about the night before.
“Apparently, everyone was getting sick around here. Just before we moved.” Alaska said quietly, and Dakota slowed down his chewing to hear her clearly. “Small town, everyone's catching it… that's why it's been so empty around here.”
“Hmm.” Dakota hummed with a mouth full of food.
“One of our neighbors left a pie on our porch, and talked to me from the sidewalk.” Alaska smiled as she recalled it. “She didn't want to get me sick, in case she had it…” She looked down at her own plate, slightly less full than Dakota's was, and she started picking off things, and putting them onto Dakota's plate instead- bacon, and sausage- before she said, “I can't help but feel like we came at a bad time.”
“...” Dakota's head raced with something encouraging to say, but he was coming up short. He tapped the end of his fork against the table.
Once Alaska was satisfied with her own portion, she gently prodded the egg on her plate with her fork.
“Or, maybe, it's an omen.” She said, ominously- and Dakota could only tell that it was played up from the smile that was still on her face. “Maybe there’s a reason why it’s so cheap to live here.”
“Maybe.” Dakota agreed.
“Have you seen anything strange since we've been here?” Alaska asked, in that sort of voice she'd use whenever she wanted to uplift the mood.
Dakota took a bite, chewed…
“...I saw a couple people shoplifting last night.” It was hard to forget, seeing that his nose was still sore from the encounter.
“...huh.” Alaska muttered. “The one with no cashier?”
“Mhm.” He hummed.
“Alright.”
The rest of the meal (for as long as Dakota was eating, anyway) was spent in silence.
-
Deadwood was a small town.
So it didn't take long for Dakota to bump into that strange shoplifting teenager again.
He was just surprised that he saw him again at the same convenience store- around the same time. Standing around in line, while Dakota was just walking in.
This time, he wasn't walking around with a bunch of lighter fluid, and hiding from anyone looking to make eye contact with him. In fact, if anything, he seemed comfortably bored- waiting in line with the intention to pay…
Then he saw Dakota, and he froze up- and stared at him with that same bewildered look on his face.
And if Dakota was honest- he didn't really know what to do with him.
He walked into the snack aisle. There was a lingering glance on the teen, but aside from that, Dakota was almost completely ready to drop it, and pretend like it never happened.
It took a while for Dakota to put the pieces together.
The incident was already made up in his mind- he went home that night assuming that they needed what they stole, and he’s been coasting off of that assumption ever since. Him being a good samaritan now and paying for his things, for a moment, just drilled that sentiment further into his brain.
And maybe, if this teen wasn’t so nervous about seeing him again, Dakota probably wouldn’t have noticed. Or cared.
That strange shoplifting experience would’ve lived in the back of his brain for a good portion of his life- until they moved, and he remembered it again, and he’d think- hey, it was a little strange that there was a fire in town after the same night he saw a few teens stealing lighter fluid…
It was at the forefront of his mind now. And as this teen handed money to the cashier, still looking between the counter, and Dakota- it was a little strange, wasn’t it? Too strange to be a coincidence.
Dakota didn’t think he was too expressive. And yet, as everything started putting it together, the teen seemed to look more frantic.
“Thank you.” He said to the cashier really quickly, before he grabbed the plastic bag that all of his stuff was in, and made a beeline for the exit.
“No, wait-”
The teen slammed into the door before he could manage to open it.
There was a moment where Dakota stuttered in front of the door, like he was worried that it'd slam into him again- but then, just half a minute later, Dakota was hot on his heels.
“Hey!” The cold air of Deadwood pinched his nose, and stung the rest of his face. Aside from a wince, he continued onward.
“...” He saw the teen quickening his pace- throwing a hood over his head, and heading straight towards the same street that Dakota would have to cross to get home.
It didn't take long to catch up to him. He picked up the pace, put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, and the teen jumped back when he made contact.
“You were- I saw you a couple days ago- I saw you shoplifting!”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.” The teen said, quickly. Whispery, panicked- “I would never do that.”
“You slammed a door in my face!” Dakota insisted- as if this teenager actually forgot, and wasn't just trying to cover himself. “You were the ones with lighter fluid… You guys burnt down that church, didn't you-!”
“Stop yelling about it!” His hands came up to cover his face, eventually landing on the drawstrings of his hood, and pulling it further down his head.
Dakota frowned. “I thought you really needed that lighter fluid-”
“We did!” The teen said, and it came out as a harsh, frantic whisper, before the rest of his reassurances turned into fast murmurs, “We definitely, definitely needed it-”
“If you burnt it down- what the hell's your problem!” He was still walking away, and Dakota was still having to catch up to him. “Stop walking, and talk to me!”
The teen stopped walking, and finally turned around to look at him again. Dakota did as well, shoes scraping noisy against the pavement.
“Fine- fine, you know what?” The teen pointed at him accusingly, and Dakota went along with it, if just to see where it was going to lead to, “You're right- you did see me. And we did do that-”
“Okay…”
“But you don't need to go around- shouting about it! We already told the police. It’s already been handled.”
Dakota stuttered. Mouth opening, and closing, as he struggled on what to say next.
“It's been- handled?” He asked slowly.
“Yes.” He whispered harshly.
How would that work? Did they turn themselves in? Were they honest, or were they quick to lie, just as he was quick to lie to him now- did they tell them about the lighter fluid, or the church-
Dakota's head was already spinning from this strange reversal. Suddenly, he was the one that was quietly interjecting, while this strange teen was grilling him with information.
“Then- why did you run, when you saw me?”
“The cashier goes to my school! She doesn’t-” He closed his mouth, and sighed, like he was having trouble saying it. “It’s been handled. The police know about- what happened. And they’re just… keeping it low, so it doesn’t freak everybody out.”
There was just one question on Dakota’s mind, then.
“What… happened?”
For some odd reason- maybe seeing that Dakota was just curious, now, instead of confrontational- the teen seemed to relax. He didn't sound as defensive, when he spoke again.
“There was a…” His fingers tapped, and crawled up his own arm. “There was an evil spirit- vampire- ghoul. Guy. He was sort of- trying to eat everyone in town. And we needed all that stuff to stop him- and burn his nest- and if we hadn't stopped him, everyone in town would've gotten sick, and died.”
“...” Alaska mentioned something about his neighbors getting sick.
The teen sighed, like was mentally taking a couple steps back.
“You're new in town, right? I saw the moving truck…” He shook his head, like it didn't really matter, “But there was nobody in the convenience store, right? And nobody in town that wasn't already indoors, and all of the lights were out- it was because of that- thing. It's not gonna tell you on the brochure, but Deadwood's full of a lot of evil stuff. And if we don't step up, and stop them… Nobody else will. Not until it’s too late.”
The teen tried explaining himself further- something about this monster being attached to something, and stealing souls, and villainry- and though he just sounded more and more frantic in his explanations…
Dakota shifted his weight on his feet, and readjusted the board underneath his arm.
He sounded genuine.
It sounded insane, frankly, and Dakota was having a hard time keeping track of everything he was saying- but he wasn't backtracking in the slightest. It sounded like he was dealing with a villain, and even if their methods were a bit unorthodox, and there were still traces of smoke even days after it happened…
Well. Dakota started seeing people again, sickly as they were. There were no reports of anyone dying, and as far as he was concerned, nothing else was ruined.
“So… it was like a villain?”
“City kids…” He murmured under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing- yes.” The teen corrected. “It was like- if a supervillain was really, really evil. And also a monster. And only really lived to, like, feed off innocent people.”
“Why don't you tell the heroes about it, then?” Dakota asked.
The teen shook out his arms. Then, after shoving his hands into his pockets, and swinging that bag around his arm, he seemed to be a lot more relaxed.
“There aren't any heroes in Deadwood.”
“Oh.” He couldn't stifle the disappointment in his tone.
Sure, they've been to places which were unfamiliar- and he's seen some heroes that were local to their towns, or barely seen, aside from most of the heroes in New Haven- but no heroes at all? It seemed surreal.
Dakota tried tracing back in his brain for anything Deadwood related- specifically relating to superheroes in the comics he'd poured over- but he knew he'd remember a name like Deadwood if it ever came up in anything like that.
“The police wouldn’t have done anything until it was too late. And we were kind of on a time limit, since everyone was getting sick and dying. The, uh…” He gestured to the convenience store, “The girl that usually works there was one of his victims, too… And she probably would’ve died.”
“You saved her?”
“Sort of.” The teen fidgeted. “My friend did, I just helped.”
Dakota finally relaxed. Then, he smiled a bit.
It was just a misunderstanding- and he was right to think that he needed it.
Even with the lack of heroes in this town, it was nice to see that there was still a community that was helping each other out as much as they could- even if their methods were strange.
“Sorry for… hitting your face with a door.” The teen then said, quietly. “If we weren't in a rush, I probably would've told you about it.”
Dakota held out his hand. The teen paused, and stared at it- and him- hesitantly, before he pulled a hand out of his pocket, and took it.
His hands were clammy.
“I'm Dakota.”
He seemed… paranoid. Wary- like Dakota would physically take his name away, and run with it.
But he squeezed his hand nonetheless, and even half-heartedly shook it.
“William.” He winced. “Welcome to Deadwood.”
-
Deadwood was a very small town.
Dakota wasn't sure how many people lived there- but with how often he seemed to bump into William, he figured that it couldn't have been much.
The convenience store was close to his house- just down the road, and across the street. And sometimes, when Alaska was busy, or just wasn't home, Dakota would roll down there, in search of something to eat, or drink-
And sometimes, William would be there as well- picking up snacks or sweets, and trying his best to avoid eye contact with anyone else that'd be in there.
Dakota would wave at him every time he saw him, since he was the only person that he recognized in this town.
For the most part, he'd get ignored. But then, sometimes, maybe when he was in a good mood, William would wave back. It took a while before it went further- with Dakota actually greeting him, and William actually responding to it in turn-
But slowly, every couple of days- every late night run, where it seemed to be just the two of them wandering around those aisles- they got more used to each other. And thus, things got less awkward.
And one day- this time, when William was bumping into Dakota at the slushie machine, instead of the usual other way around- that awkwardness that'd usually plague their conversations was gone.
“Morning.” William was the first to say.
It was already past noon. “Morning.”
Dakota watched William pull out three evenly sized cups, and fill each of them up with their own flavors. Then, after struggling to put lids on them, Dakota put the straw of his own drink up to his mouth, and watched as William tried figuring out how he'd be carrying them with him without a cupholder.
Dakota watched for a bit. He almost walked out, and went back home-
But he was already there. He didn't need to go home yet.
“Need help carrying that?” Dakota asked.
William clearly thought about it, looking down at the slushie that he thought about stuffing into the crook of his arm- maybe, even, about how cold it was, and how tedious it'd be to carry- and he sighed.
-
Right- Dakota drilled into his brain- Right. Your slushie is in your right hand. The same hand you use to write, and pick things up.
Only drink from the slushie on the right.
Despite the constant assertions, during the walk over to William's house, Dakota almost drank from that other slushie several times.
It didn't matter what he'd think, or how often he kept reminding himself- if he wasn't paying too much attention to it, he knew that he'd take the wrong sip.
“Why do you have so many slushies, anyway?” Dakota asked, after another bout of frustration from almost drinking from the wrong cup.
“My friends are meeting me at my house. I just wanted to get them something.”
“Looking for more evil monsters?”
“Yes. Actually.” William said slowly.
“Hm.” Dakota hummed.
William's house wasn't too far away from the convenience store. Once they made it onto his porch, Dakota left that slushie behind- almost leaving the wrong one behind on accident, before managing to switch it out just as fast.
“Thanks.” William said.
Dakota sipped his slushie. Looked around the front of William's house, then out at all of the neighboring houses…
“Oh, wow.”
“What?” William butted in nosily- leaning his head over, like he was trying to see what Dakota was seeing before he pointed it out.
Dakota pointed- there, right around the corner, only sticking out because of its pale blue color, was Dakota’s new home.
They weren't just living in the same town, they were neighbors.
…kind of.
William was closer to the convenience store than Dakota was- but it was close enough for both of them to walk. No wonder they kept bumping into each other.
Dakota waved at William as he was leaving- hand flying high above his head as he did so.
William’s wave in turn was so subtle that Dakota almost didn’t even notice it. It was definitely hard with the slushies in his hands- but Dakota appreciated the attempt nonetheless.
-
Despite their supposed fresh start, Dakota knew that his aunt was still in a vulnerable spot.
And even if she'd never let Dakota in on what exactly was going on with her (and Dakota, honestly, wasn't the best at picking up some of the more obvious things sometimes) he's lived with her for long enough to see that she got in a way, sometimes- and that moving to Deadwood was the chance to start over, and start fresh.
She wouldn't have moved here if she knew about the evil that apparently lurked underneath it all. She wouldn't have stayed, if she figured out that the reason why the old church burned down on their first day wasn't because of a fluke accident, but instead because a few teenagers took it upon themselves to stop a villain that otherwise would've been left alone.
The reason why Deadwood didn't have any superheroes wasn't because it was a safe place to live in. It, in fact, seemed like the exact opposite- trouble was attracted to it. Heroes just seemed to skirt around it.
Did the heroes know that it was dangerous in Deadwood, or was it just this band of teenagers that knew about it? Did they try telling someone, or were they being so secretive about it because they knew that nothing would change?
Dakota could try telling people. Testing the waters. Somehow letting- someone know that Deadwood needed heroes stationed there, to prevent anything horrible from happening-
But where would he start? Who would he talk to, and who would listen? He didn't think superheroes were incompetent- but Dakota wasn’t really sure how the process worked, and he wasn’t really sure that they knew, either.
He could tell Alaska that her attempt at finding a peaceful place to live in Deadwood was upended, and ruined. He could let her know that her efforts (which had put a very noticeable strain on her during the moving process) were wasted, and that they'd need to leave before either of them would have a chance to settle down, and see if it was right for them.
Dakota didn't like lying. He didn't see the need to.
And yet, the thought of letting his aunt Alaska in on this problem made a knot twist in his stomach, and left him unnaturally quiet, as he was in the same room as her.
Sometimes, that knot would loosen, and fray, and he'd talk unobstructed-
“Did you know that Deadwood’s haunted?”
And in turn, Alaska would just hum.
She would nod her head along, like she was present in the conversation- but Dakota knew that it was more likely that she was using his words as some background noise. It didn't matter if he said that Deadwood was haunted- he could've told her that there was a demon standing right behind her- and unless it attacked her, she'd hardly notice it.
She just liked sitting by, and hearing him talk- keeping an ear out for any concerning buzzwords that Dakota was not going to ruin the meal by spilling.
“My new friend told me all about it.”
Buzzwords: new friend. Dakota didn’t even realize that he’d said it.
Before he could clarify, her eyebrows raised slightly. “I’m glad you’re settling in, honey.”
“...are you settling in?” Dakota asked, and just like he thought, his aunt Alaska didn’t really respond to it.
She picked at her food, head likely swimming around just as fast as Dakota’s was.
Alaska wouldn’t know for another couple of minutes that he was no longer talking- but from the look on his face, she’d probably guess that they kept talking, and that the conversation ended naturally.
Dakota didn’t mind being quiet. He had more than enough things on his mind.
-
As Dakota was throwing a flannel over his shoulders, and getting ready to leave the house, their doorbell rang.
When he opened it, he expected to see a neighbor of theirs. Maybe the same one that stopped by on their first day there, and got pretty friendly with Alaska- waking up bright and early to deliver some more news from the neighborhood- maybe some things that William and his friends were up to, he thought-
Instead, Dakota saw a stranger standing there. A stout woman with light brown hair, smiling and standing up a little straighter when Dakota opened the door. She was holding tupperware very proudly in her hands.
“Morning! You're new to the neighborhood, right?”
And just before Dakota could open his mouth, and ask- and before this stranger could say anything- someone else stepped further up the porch steps behind her, and Dakota’s eyes locked onto him.
“William?”
“Hey…” He didn't even seem surprised to see him there. He just looked a little sheepish.
Dakota opened his mouth to say something- anything, really, a greeting- but then there was a hand on his back, and Alaska was poking her head out to see what was going on.
“This your friend?” Alaska asked quietly.
“Um.” Dakota said.
“Yes- we are.” William cut in, and Dakota’s eyebrows shot up his face.
Was he wrong about this guy? He thought- friend was a very specific word, and he used it when talking to Alaska because they were friendly, and he knew that she’d love to hear it- but hearing it come from him was almost jarring, considering how cold and reserved he usually was.
Maybe he didn't have many other friends.
Dakota could somewhat understand it- in all of his travels around Deadwood, he's only ever seen a couple kids his age running around. They were all either indoors, or didn't want to talk to him- and Dakota knew that if he wanted his usual big friend group, then he'd have to wait until the school year started.
But now, maybe, if they kept bumping into each other… Dakota could get a headstart. Maybe he was already getting one. It felt like a couple pounds being lifted off his shoulders.
“I'm just glad that they found each other.” Alaska’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “And that he's making friends before the school year starts.”
Dakota tilted his head around William's mom to wave at him. In turn, like he was embarrassed, William barely raised his hand to wave back at him.
“I’m so relieved as well…” William's mom continued, “One of William's friends is off in another country for the summer- and I hate to see him cooped up in his room all day…”
“Mom…” William whispered.
“What?” She asked, and Dakota laughed at the way her voice lilted. “It’s true!”
“Do you both want to come in?” Alaska asked.
Dakota looked back at their house, eyes narrowed- but since they were still new, most of their things were still tucked away into a few boxes, and so, their house looked clean, and put together. Perfect for a good first impression.
William nudged his mom gently, “My friends are coming over…”
“Oh, you go on…” She said, and with a nod, William was stepping down the stairs, “Oh- you should bring your new friend with you!”
William froze, and turned back around.
It took Dakota a second to realize- when William’s mom turned to look at him with an expectant look on her face- that they were talking about him.
Alaska’s hand was on his back- not pushing him towards William, and the stairs- but keeping it steady, as if Dakota was planning on leaning back, and needing Alaska to keep him from going back inside.
“...okay.” William said slowly. Uncertainty.
“Okay.” Dakota said- much more confident, as he followed in his steps.
Dakota stomped down the stairs. William started heading in the same direction Dakota usually took to get to the convenience store.
Before he left them behind completely, he took one last look at Alaska- still talking with William’s mom, and showing no obvious signs of discomfort- and he lingered for another second or so…
But then he assumed that she was fine. She invited William's mom in, waved one last time at Dakota when she saw him lingering behind, which caused him to throw his arm up as far as he could reach, and wave in turn-
And then she was gone, and Dakota was rushing to catch up with William again.
“So, where are we going?”
William sighed. “I’m going to the convenience store, and then I’m heading back home.”
“Hm.” Seems they always found themselves at that little convenience store… for whatever reason.
William looked over, eyebrows raised when Dakota still silently followed him. “You don’t have to come with me, if you don’t want- my mom’s just got this whole hospitality thing going on…”
It didn’t sound like an invitation.
It also didn’t sound like it wasn’t an invitation- Dakota suddenly didn’t know where they stood.
So, he decided to be blunt. “Are we friends?”
“Um…”
“I wasn’t sure, but you told my aunt we were…”
“Oh, uh, it's…” He frowned, “I knew my mom was gonna get… weird, if I said that I just saw you around sometimes.”
“Oh.”
William shrugged, “And- I don’t know. You know how parents can be, sometimes. We might as well be friends, even if we don’t really know each other.”
Dakota nodded along, though he only vaguely understood it.
A beat- in Dakota’s head, the only difference between what they were now, and what they could be in the future was something as stupid as a name. “Can we be friends?”
William didn't seem to mind. “Sure.”
And then, suddenly, Dakota was thrilled.
-
“Are you guys off… looking for monsters again?” He asked, and he tried to sound casual as he said it.
“Something like that.” William said, vaguely. His focus was honed in on the shelves, like he was looking for something specific.
Dakota scooted closer. He tried matching that attentiveness- looking at the snacks, like he was focused on them, too- but he couldn’t seem to stop looking over at William.
“What kind of things do you guys usually find?”
William actually seemed to think about it for a bit.
“Ghosts.” He said, confidently, “Anything else is usually more rare. But my friends and I can see ghosts, so we usually look at… hauntings.”
He took something off the shelf. Dakota nodded along attentively.
“Can you teach me how to see ghosts?”
William looked like he’d been physically pained by the suggestion- like, along with it, Dakota had jabbed him with his elbow. William turned that look from him, to the shelf, as he kept pursuing.
“...I don’t think I can. Teach you anything.” It looked like he was talking to the items on the shelf, rather than to Dakota. “It’s just something I have.”
“Is there any other way to tell?” Dakota pressed, even as William seemed to inch away from him. “There's gotta be some way that everyone's surviving around here…”
“People usually just ignore it.” William remarked bitterly. “Until my friends and I look into it.”
“That can't be it.”
“It definitely is.”
It was a cynical statement- why leave the fate of their small town in the hands of a couple teenagers, instead of capable adults? Or actual superheroes?
In Dakota’s mind, it only cemented William’s coolness further into his mind. Because sure, he was awkward, and cold, and standoffish- but when it mattered, and it seemed, when people needed him, he and his friends took matters into their own hands-
And as far as Dakota was concerned, they must’ve had some constant success rate. They weren’t heroes in the normal sense, but in his eyes, they were the closest Deadwood had to it.
“Then- that’s even more reason to teach me.”
“...” William gave him a look that was almost pitiful- eyebrows upturned, head tilted, before he went back to pursuing the shelves.
Dakota frowned.
He didn’t want to air Alaska’s dirty laundry. Nor did he want to air any of his own… But he wanted William to understand- and he also didn’t want to be dishonest.
So, he spoke as quietly as he could.
“My aunt doesn’t know about the whole… problem that Deadwood has.” He said slowly, and with it, William’s hand rested on the shelf, and didn’t really move. He was hearing him out. “I didn’t know about it, either, until you told me… And now, I don’t- I don’t want her to find out about it.”
“...”
“She was really hoping for a nice, quiet town.” Dakota pressed, “And if we’re gonna stay here, I want to know how to look for anything bad, so we won’t get hurt.” He frowned, and corrected himself, “So she won’t get hurt.”
“Moving’s not an option?” William asked quietly. “Deadwood’s… intense, sometimes.”
“Moving stresses her out.” Dakota laid it out, plainly. “We’ve already- moved around so many times this year.”
William paused.
For someone so quiet, and nervous, his face seemed expressive- easier for Dakota to read, and to assume that he seemed- remorseful? Nervous? All he could pinpoint, really, was that he heard him, and was taking him seriously.
“Most people don’t believe me, when I tell them. Even if so many people can see it for themselves.” William muttered. “It’s nice to be believed.”
When he looked back at him, it wasn’t for very long- but Dakota beamed nonetheless. William sighed.
“Fine. Let’s see if I can teach you anything.” He relented. “My friends are meeting now, actually- so… we can just get our stuff, and go.”
Dakota blinked. “Your friends are in your house right now?”
“They could live there, for all my family cares.” He rolled his eyes, “My mom was just… stopping by to say hi to our new neighbors, and I wanted to come with her.”
Okay- maybe Dakota had severely misinterpreted William.
It wasn't his fault that a lot of what he was saying wasn't matching up with how he was acting, or what he was doing- despite being so expressive. He was just strange. And weirdly alluring, in the sort of way where Dakota wanted to figure him out- which usually wasn’t his strong suit.
But he got what he wanted. A new friend, maybe. A way to spot the supposed evils of Deadwood, and shield Alaska from it as much as possible.
And for that, he was grateful.
-
Dakota stuck to William’s side, as he walked through his house.
Nobody else seemed to be home. For a minute, as far as Dakota was concerned, it seemed to just be the two of them- walking around a house that was cleaner and brighter than his own, up into a room that wasn't necessarily messy, just full of things-
“Sorry for the mess.” William said anyway, and Dakota looked around, but aside from an unmade bed with laundry stacked onto it, and a stray sock on the floor, he couldn't see anything that was wrong with it.
Dakota's seen messy. He's lived in a messy home before. If William considered this to be messy…
Some doubt wormed into his gut, as William started pulling things out of his closet. Something else was present- but Dakota couldn't even begin to work through the mess of his own feelings, let alone one that appeared so suddenly.
“Okay…” William pulled a blue duffel bag out of his closet. When he threw it onto the bed, all the stuff in there clinked together. “Sometimes, these ghosts don't show themselves right away, so I use these to look for any signs of them…”
Inside the duffel bag, put nicely, was a mess of different junk.
William waved his hand around it, like he could tell what everything was, and where it was- but when Dakota saw it, all he saw was a mess. An incomprehensible, wiry beast that needed to be taken apart before he could begin to understand what was even in it.
“We’ll start small, but if you find more use in it, then you could probably just… have it.”
More junk in his house. Dakota grimaced.
William noticed. “Maybe later- we can look through it…”
“Okay.”
“But it's a good start.”
They left the duffel bag in William’s room for now- for forever, if Dakota had his way about it- but he knew that if he wanted Deadwood to be safe, and if he wasn’t gaining any sudden superpowers from living here, then it was going to have to be his next best option.
The door to William’s basement was old. It needed a heavy push to open- with William pressing against it, and stumbling when it gave- and when it did open, it made this horrible creaking noise.
As Dakota looked down the stairs, the staircase seemed to just get longer, and longer- drawing deeply into this pit of a basement that Dakota couldn't see the bottom of. The only light was coming from up the stairs, and this little section that Dakota could barely see down there.
“Where are we going?”
William looked back down at the basement.
“It's our little meeting room.” He said. “Watch your step.”
“William?” He heard a voice calling out from somewhere in the basement.
Once he was actually in the basement, it was a lot less intimidating. He could see a few things more properly- and he understood that the creepy atmosphere was only amplified by his poor eyesight.
William flicked on a light that was down there. And after turning a corner, Dakota saw that there was this little play area in the basement- a table with four seats, and an abandoned board game sitting on top of it. A couch in front of a TV- two people sitting on that couch, turning their heads around when they saw William standing there-
And then, two people who were slowly turning around to look at them- eyes darting nervously between Dakota, and William.
“This is my new neighbor.” William raised his hand to introduce him, “He's joining us for this meeting.”
In turn, Dakota did what he did best with strangers.
“Hello!”
Dakota met Norah- the same girl that helped William steal that night at the convenience store.
Every time Dakota looked over at her, she was looking at something intently- whether it be someone talking, or something that’d distracted her- but no matter what it was, Dakota wasn’t so sure that she blinked during it. (Admittedly, he got distracted trying to test his point. As William was moving on, and starting to introduce his other friend, Dakota didn’t peel his eyes away from her for a while, just to see if she'd blink.
She didn't. But she seemed nice enough, so Dakota moved his attention away from her.)
Then, there was his friend Isaac. Someone much taller than the rest of them, that wore a flannel similar to Dakota’s over a long undershirt- and at first, seeing him just nodding along during the initial introductions, Dakota thought that he wasn't going to be as interested in meeting someone new-
But Dakota didn't mind it very much. They all seemed to be a lot more introverted than Dakota was- and as long as they didn't mind him being there, he was happy to be there.
“There’s another person in our group, but he’s in Italy for the summer.” William shook his head, “But if you stick around, you might get to meet him.”
“Cool.” Dakota said, in turn.
He didn't know how long he was going to stick around in this friend group- but if it worked out, then it worked out.
The four of them gathered around the table. Dakota sat in the last available seat- sitting at the corner of the table, where most of the pieces of the board game were scattered over, like they'd just been pushed off to the side.
When William noticed it, he looked at the mess critically, and attempted to remove them. Isaac's hands shot out to stop him.
“Wait- I was so close to winning this one…”
William stared at him incredulously. “How long has it been since you guys played this?”
Isaac didn't have an answer to that.
Norah pushed up her glasses. “It was Louie's turn next.”
With a roll of his eyes, and a dramatic protest from Isaac, William swept away the pieces, and set the game aside.
“Alright.” He put the board game away, and took his own seat- right in front of a washer and dryer, tucked away in a little hole in the wall. “Let's get started.”