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The sun beats down on Dakota as he walks on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets and kicking at rocks on the ground as they go. The streets are surprisingly empty for New Haven, but that just means the sounds of a bustling city aren’t overwhelming him. Besides him, Ashe is there, talking about an upcoming concert of a band he likes and that he’s hoping to go to if he can get tickets in time. It soon turns into a ramble about his favorite songs and something about composing. Dakota doesn’t really understand music stuff, but he knows Ashe really enjoys it so he does his best to listen. Besides, he liked a decent amount of the songs on Ashe’s playlist when Dakota kinda stole his headphones while he was gone and Ashe is pretty fucking cool whenever he plays drums.
Then, all of a sudden, Ashe’s voice trails off. Dakota blinks, looking to where Ashe was just beside him, only to see nothing but the sidewalk and air.
“Ashe?” he calls out.
Instead of Ashe’s voice, a familiar, haunting laugh answers Dakota.
“Haha…hahahaha.”
His heart drops.
It’s a nightmare, Dakota tells himself instantaneously. It’s not real. They got rid of the Trickster already. It’s a nightmare. It’s not real. It’s not real, not real, not real—
Hands seize his own arms harshly and a face gets so close to Dakota’s, he could smell their rotten breath. Ashe—no, the Trickster—stares into his soul with eyes so familiar yet not it hurts because that’s Ashe, his friend, but everything about him is wrong. The crazed, orange eyes that feel like they're piercing through him, the unnerving, twisted smile, and the tilt of his neck that is a few degrees too far that it’s not humanly possible. “What's wrong? Why are you scared? I’m not scary.”
Dakota grits his teeth and reels back to headbutt the Trickster in the face. The Trickster lets go of him and staggers a few steps back. While he’s still stunned, Dakota swings and his punch connects with the Trickster’s jaw. Dakota is about to go for a kick when the Trickster snaps his head up, beaming at Dakota with a frightening grin. The expression shocks Dakota enough for him to hesitate and that moment of hesitation is all the Trickster needed. A door appears beneath the Trickster's feet and he vanishes from Dakota’s sight.
Shit, where did he go?
“Dakota!” William’s voice, distressed and scared, shouts from behind him.
William.
Dakota turns around so fast, it almost gives him whiplash.
William is standing there, with more fear in his eyes that Dakota has ever seen—no, Dakota has seen that fear before…when- when he had—
Hands puncture William’s chest and he coughs out blood.
Nononono—not again, not again.
Dakota runs.
“William!” he shouts, desperate, pushing himself to go faster because not again. He can’t fail again.
Dakota stumbles as he runs, his feet feeling heavy and his balance . He scrambles to make it to William as quick possible because Dakota can see the hands in his chest beginning to extend outward and orange begin to swirl in the gaping hole forming in William’s chest and Dakota knows that he only has a few moments until—
“I’m sorry,” William chokes on a wet cough, tears streaming down his cheeks, “for not keeping our promise.”
“WILL!!”
The hands tear through William.
Dakota’s eyes fly open with a gasp and he’s reaching out for something—for William—but his hand only grasps air. He tries again and nothing makes contact with his fingers. There’s nothing. Dakota couldn’t catch William in time. William fell and Dakota couldn’t catch him. He failed, again. He failed to save someone again.
His heart is pounding in his chest and Dakota can’t hear anything over the sound of his own brain telling him he failed again and William is gone for good this time. Dakota’s hands are grasping and clutching for something that isn’t there as his breaths come out too short and too quick to be normal, but he can barely process that right now.
He can feel his own hands clawing at his own chest, trying to find a grip on something solid. Eventually, Dakota finds a hold on the soft fabric of the dark hoodie he’s wearing. William’s hoodie. He’s wearing William’s hoodie. That he stole. Because William is alive and grumbled at him for doing it by accident once and Dakota thought it was funny so he did it again and again just to mess with William, and William still needs to grumble at him for it, and he will because he’s alive.
William is alive.
William is alive.
Dakota’s brain repeats that single sentence over and over again like a mantra and slowly but surely, his breathing begins to even out.
It takes what feels like hours for Dakota to slow down and remind himself of where he is, but the alarm clock on his nightstand tells him it’s been maybe twenty minutes. He’s in his bedroom. On Harttawa Island. That Tide renovated into their new base and home while they were off dealing with the Trickster-ified Ashe.
The thought of the Trickster instantly sends memories of William getting ripped in half and the two pieces of his body laying in grass stained with the blood Vyncent gave him into his brain. In-between William’s severed corpse was his mechanical heart—the heart that Dakota gave William, a physical representation of their promise…the one that William almost couldn’t keep—torn in half in a similar fashion that the rest of William was. William’s heart was torn in half and it- it was William’s heart because Dakota gave William his heart.
If only Dakota was faster or stronger, then both Ashe and William wouldn’t have gotten shot on that train and Dakota could’ve helped William fight off those villains and then he wouldn’t have died. If only Dakota was faster and stronger, then he wouldn’t have let himself get captured in their battle against Overlord and Ashe wouldn’t have had to summon the Trickster and get possessed and if Ashe never got possessed then William would’ve never gotten literally ripped in half. If only Dakota was just better, then he—
No, that’s- that’s why he trained. That’s why Dakota trained with his master in that timeless chamber for what felt like days on end. To be strong. And Dakota is strong now and both Ashe and William are okay. They’re okay. Ashe isn’t possessed and William is alive- or, well, as alive as he can be. But William still died and he almost didn’t come back.
The small, very tiny, logical part of Dakota’s brain tries to tell him William is alive and fine, but he has never been known for being logical. Dakota dropped out of school because school and education are stupid and William has all the brains in their team for a reason. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to check on William…Dakota just needs to make sure. It never hurts to be cautious (even though Dakota isn’t really one to be cautious either). What if William got whisked away in the middle of the night? What if someone broke in? What if Mal came for William? What if Dakota is too late again?
Fuck, Dakota’s starting to sound like William with this paranoia.
Oh, whatever.
Dakota throws his blanket off and slides off his bed. He tries to creep across the floor as quietly as he could to not risk waking anyone up, but Dakota’s not known for being stealthy or even being quiet—that’s all Vyncent and William. Every few steps, a floorboard creaks under his weight and Dakota winces at the sound.
Once he makes it to his door, he doesn’t bother closing it behind him and goes down the hallway towards William’s room. It only takes a few steps for Dakota to reach his bedroom door. And for some reason, he hesitates when he does.
It’s weird that he does, honestly. The Prime Defenders going to each other’s room in the middle of the night and waking up to a room that isn’t their own or being found in a tangled mess on the couch is something common. It’s not a routine by any means, but it almost is with how often it happens. But it’s not usually Dakota seeking out the others in the dead of night. Back when they were still semi-regular high school students who happened to live a double life as superheroes, it was common to find William in a bedroom that wasn’t his own. He’d come to Dakota or Vyncent during the night from nightmares or not being able to handle being alone and he’d stay with them the entire night. These habits carried on when he was alive thanks to the mechanical heart, even if it was a bit different in their winnebago compared to their base.
Dakota, unfortunately, is also familiar with nightmares and Dakota knows that William knows this, having been a victim of his sleep talking and sleep grabbing on multiple occasions before. Knowing how William is, he’d probably welcome Dakota with open arms if he even wakes up. That doesn’t change the way Dakota freezes up in front of William’s door.
Dakota’s scared, he realizes. He’s scared that if he opens the door, William will either be missing from his bed because he was never really there or in two pieces. He’s scared that after everything that happened, after all the shit they went through, things weren’t okay and sure, they still had Mal to deal with, but they had a semblance of peace despite that. What if Dakota opens the door and all the peace is gone? Even worse, what if it never existed in the first place and he’s just been in a blissful dream the entire time?
But if any of that happens to be true, then Dakota needs to do something. He can’t stay frozen in front of a door because what if he’s too late? What if something is wrong and he didn’t notice?
Taking a deep breath and as carefully as he physically could, Dakota opens William’s door and peeks inside. There, in a lump on the bed, tucked into the corner of the room, is William. He’s laying in bed, swaddled in a blanket, and sleeping soundly. He almost looks peaceful like that.
William is okay. He’s fine. He’s fine.
But he also looks kinda dead and Dakota needs a closer look to be one hundred percent sure.
Dakota takes a step into William’s room and closes the door behind him. It shuts with a quiet click.
He makes his way towards the bed, taking even more care into being as quiet as he can to not wake up William. Surprisingly, Dakota makes it to the bedside without any issue. When Dakota sits down, however, the mattress groans loudly and he cringes. William shifts in his sleep for a brief moment, making a groggy sound before stopping. Dakota lets out a sigh of relief.
He gazes down at William’s sleeping face. Just like afar, his face looks peaceful, but actually peaceful. Dakota can confidently say that William’s just sleeping, not almost dead. In his new body, William isn’t as pale as he used to be and he doesn’t look as malnourished. While the white streaks in his hair remain, the purple tint his hands and legs had, a sign of his body’s decay, are gone with this new body.
Dakota gently places a hand on William’s shoulder and he feels something ignite inside him at the lightest touch. Something about William always sparked a warmth in Dakota’s chest despite everything. Despite how cold his skin is—even if he’s not as freezing cold as he was before; despite how they don’t agree on a lot of things—both big and small with things that are hard to reconcile with; and, despite how William sometimes sucks so much that it hurts and causes a pain in Dakota’s chest that he’s never felt before. But that pain is worth it because William is worth it- worth the heart and powers he gave up. William is worth everything Dakota has to offer and more.
“…kota?”
The sound of William’s voice breaks Dakota out of his trance and he sees William’s half-lidded eyes, glowing a soft blue, peering up at him sleepily. Hastily, Dakota removes his hand from William’s shoulder.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“‘ts fine,” William mumbles, trying to rub the sleep away from his eyes. “What’s up?”
Dakota looks away, finding a spot on William's carpet to be a better place to stare. “It’s nothing.”
For a moment, William doesn’t respond and silence fills the room. Dakota isn’t good with noise, but he definitely doesn’t like silence and this silence in particular has Dakota tense and anxious in a way he definitely does not like. He’s about to stand up and walk out the room and say “oh, it’s nothing! Don’t worry about it! Go back to sleep, Will!”, but William starts shifting on his bed and Dakota finds himself unmoving.
“C’mere, Kota.”
Those words lead Dakota’s eyes back towards William and he sees that William’s still lying on his side, but scooted over towards the side of his mattress pressed against the wall with one arm raised and his blanket draped over it. An invitation.
Dakota doesn’t move.
“I don’t got muscles like you, man. I can’t keep my arm up all night.”
Dakota still doesn’t move, hesitating. It’s only when William pulls Dakota towards him that he moves to lay at the empty spot besides William. Once he does, William drops his arm, dropping the blanket on the both of them. It creates a little cocoon around them and suddenly, it's just Dakota and William, in their own little world away from everything else. Separate from all the hero and villain stuff; separate from all their troubles and worries (except not really); separate from the fact that Mal is a literal god now and is probably wrecking havoc as they speak…
Neither of them say anything for a few minutes. William just stares at Dakota and Dakota stares back. A couple times, William opens his mouth, as if to begin saying something, but his jaw clicks close a second later. Eventually, William grabs one of Dakota’s hands and holds it. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to or aren’t ready yet, but I’m here for you, man. I always am- just like you are for me.”
“That’s- that’s the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you here?” Dakota hadn’t meant to say that—well, he kinda had, but not like that—his mouth moved without his brain’s consent. Maybe, it’s his fault for not using his brain more, but his brain is stupid because a small part of it is telling Dakota this isn’t real and that William is still just two pieces on that forest floor in Deadwood when he can literally feel William’s hand in his own, resting on the mattress beneath them.
As if reading his mind and trying to reassure him, William’s fingers find themselves intertwining with Dakota’s, entangling them as William squeezes. “Dakota.”
“Sometimes, when I look at you, I don’t feel like I’m really looking at you. It- it doesn’t feel like you’re actually here and that I’m just dreaming…I keep seeing your- your-“ Dakota chokes, the words lodging themselves in his throat. He can’t say it. The mere association of William and his body, a corpse, that won’t be up and walking, and smiling, and joking with Dakota in a day or two sends his mind back to that forest in Deadwood. “Just because I took my eyes off him for one second, I let him get away and you…”
“Dakota…” William’s other hand comes up to Dakota’s face and he feels a thumb rub against his wet cheek and oh, he’s crying. “I’m sorry.”
The apology startles Dakota. “Why- why are you apologizing?”
“I’m- I’m sorry you had to see that. You shouldn’t have, but you did and it’s my fault.”
Dakota uses his free hand to try and wipe the welling tears away. “What- what are you saying, William? I- I failed you.”
William withdraws the hand that was cupping Dakota’s face and shakes his head. “Dakota, I failed myself. I was- I was being a fucking dumbass and well, kind of a little bitch,” he says with a laugh, but it’s one of those self-deprecating ones. Not the free-spirited, kind and warm laugh that Dakota knows William has.
Dakota frowns, “hey, don’t talk that way about my friend.”
At that, William lets out another laugh and it’s a lot more lighthearted than the last. Good. “It’s true, Kota, and we both know it. I kept- I just kept running, and running. That’s all I ever did since- since the first time I died. Because I was scared. I was scared of dying and the fact that I already did die so I ran from my powers and myself because they were a reminder of what happened and what I am now. I was a coward who ran and hid and pushed all my problems onto you guys.” William breaks their eye contact to roll onto his back and stare up at the ceiling. Dakota keeps staring at William as he continues. “I died because I literally ran away even when Vyncent promised to protect me. I always believed in you guys, but I didn’t believe in myself…and we’re a team, so if I didn’t believe in myself too, I didn’t believe in us.”
Dakota tightens his grip on William’s hand. He always believed in William too- always believed that William could come back from the hardest fall because Dakota swore to himself that he would make sure William—and Vyncent—would never fall far enough they couldn’t get back up. But his belief faltered the moment William died at the hand of the Trickster because how does someone even come back from getting ripped in half? William did anyway, that fucking bastard, but still… “But I still- I still could’ve, should’ve done something.”
“You did do something, Dakota. You beat the Trickster and got Ashe back.” William turns his head towards Dakota again and for once, he looks confident. Confident in the words he’s saying- confident in Dakota. It’s such a stark contrast to the boy that Dakota met almost two years ago. “And, hey man, there’s only so much you can do when your best friend is a Wiwi.”
Dakota can’t help the snort that comes out. “You are a Wiwi.”
William grins, “you got that right.”
They fall back into a silence, one more pleasant than the last. The sounds of their synchronized breaths being the only thing to fill the room. William’s breaths are so shallow, Dakota almost thinks it’s just his own, but no, William is, in fact, also breathing.
The feeling of William squeezing Dakota’s hand causes him to glance up. He watches as William brings their joint hands to his chest and he puts Dakota’s palm against it..
“Will?”
William averts his eyes, a sheepish look on his face. “I don’t have a heartbeat anymore, but I still breathe—for some reason—so I was, uh, thinking that maybe if you could like, feel me breathing, you’d feel better?”
Hmm.
“H-hey! Dakota!” William sputters as Dakota has decided to climb onto him, forcing him to lay on his back. Dakota drapes himself over William’s front, not letting go of their intertwined hand.
Dakota wiggles his arms under William’s back and traps him in a bear hug as Dakota holds him tightly and rests his chin atop William’s chest. “Mmm, you’re a comfy pillow.”
William shifts under Dakota, but doesn’t move to push him off. He probably knows why Dakota took this position. “Bro, how am I supposed to sleep like this?”
“I dunno. You just do.”
William sighs and Dakota can feel arms wrap around his back in an awkward hug. “I guess I can make it work.”
Laying like this, Dakota can feel every rise and fall of William’s chest underneath him. Dakota can hear every breath William takes—a reminder that he’s breathing, that William is truly here. William was right. Being able to feel him breathe did make Dakota feel better.
“You’re here. You’re alive,” Dakota whispers.
He hadn’t really intended for William to hear it, but it was probably inevitable with their current proximity. “I am here and I’m alive,” William affirms, “you didn’t fail me.”
It definitely doesn’t feel that way, Dakota doesn’t say because he knows William wouldn’t like hearing that. Based on the way William frowns at him, Dakota thinks that William might’ve read his mind and heard anyway.
“You really didn’t, Dakota. I was- I was only able to get where I am now because of you and Vyncent, but especially because of you. I think I said this before, but I only started trying to get stronger because I met you and I stuck with the hero thing for so long ‘cause of you.”
“Y’know, back at Belltech, David went on some, some villain monologue about heroes and the system—or some shit like that—and I- I almost agreed with him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t because of you, Dakota. There’s a lot of things I don’t like about this world, and our heroes, and- and this godforsaken system,” William takes a deep breath, “but I couldn’t live in a world that wouldn’t let you be the hero that you are because you’re the best fucking hero ever.”
“You asked me before if you ruined my life and I told you you fixed it; I still believe that. You fixed my life. You’re still my hero, man. You’re still the selfless piece of shit who gave me your heart, even if I don’t have it anymore, so- yeah, Dakota, you’re still my hero and I don’t think you’ll ever stop being it.”
There’s a familiarity to the words William is saying right now. These are words William has told him before and Dakota remembers the last time he said them clear as day. He doubted the sincerity even if he knew William wouldn’t lie to him (at least, not like this. And William did say he was going to be honest with him from now on) and Dakota’s brain has him doubting these words again. “…do you really mean that?”
Without missing a beat, William nods. “Of course.”
“Even if I failed you?”
“Dude, it’s literally not your fault if I’m being an idiot.”
“You’re always an idiot,” Dakota retorts, staring at William because he knows what expression those words would create.
William huffs, a slight pout forming on his face. “Okay, well, that’s just mean.”
The pout is a childish expression, one that William rarely has, so Dakota wants to cherish it while he can. Dakota doesn’t stare for too long, though, because if he does, his thoughts will start to stray; so, he looks away and presses the side of his face into William’s chest.
“Hey,” William says, “Dakota, look at me.”
And well, it’s William that’s asking so Dakota does. He looks at William and their gazes met. Dakota stares at William’s eyes that are usually a dark brown, but in the darkness of the room seem to have a familiar soft blue glow. It’s a glow that Dakota knows usually happens when William uses his powers. Dakota doesn’t think William’s using his power- then again, his eyes have been glowing blue since Dakota woke him up (he would know, he’s been doing a lot of staring) so maybe they’re just like that. He faintly recalls William mentioning he has night vision so maybe they’re like glow-in-the-dark eyes. The longer that Dakota stares at William’s eyes, the more likely it feels like he’s going to get lost in them. They’re mesmerizing.
“You’re still the best thing that ever happened to me, Kota.”
What.
Dakota blinks a few times as he tries to process what he just heard. William blinks back at him and there’s earnest, sincere look on his face- like he wholeheartedly believes what he just said.
Immediately, Dakota feels his face begin to heat up and breaks eye contact to bury his face into William’s chest in an attempt to hide his probably red cheeks. “Dude, you can’t- you can’t just say that.”
“Well, I did. And I mean it,” William says and even though Dakota can’t see it, he can tell there’s probably a stupid snork on his face. Smug asshole.
“Bro, that’s so fucking corny.”
“What can I say, I’m a poet.”
Dakota groans and tries to burrow his face deeper into the folds of William’s shirt.
“I’m- I…” the words catch in Dakota’s throat. He doesn’t even know what words get stuck, he just knows they are. Dakota can hear William hum, waiting patiently for Dakota to figure out his words. “Sorry,” Dakota settles on because he doesn’t even know what he was trying to say.
That proves itself to be the wrong thing when William twitches underneath him. “Why are you apologizing? And don’t say it’s ‘cause you failed me since you didn’t. I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it, Kota. You didn’t fail me and you never have.” Dakota feels William move an arm off his back and before he could complain about the loss of contact, there’s fingers running through Dakota’s hair. It feels nice. “You can wake me up at 3 am whenever and I’ll always tell you the same thing,” William pauses, “actually, if you’ve been feeling that way since everything happened, do wake me up at 3 am more. I want to be there for you like you’ve been for me.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” This time went unsaid. “But, thanks, Will.”
“It’s nothing, man. You’ve caught me like, a dozen times by now. I think I gotta catch you at least a couple more times to make it even.”
Dakota squeezes William a little, holding him even tighter. “I’ll always catch you, Will.”
William smiles softly, “I know you will, Dakota. Just- just let me catch you sometimes too, alright? This isn’t a boulder you can carry alone either.”
Dakota nods, or well, tries to. He’s not sure if the motion is comprehensible in their position and Dakota is far too comfortable to try too much and lose the comfort he’s found lying on top of William.
“Dakota?”
“Mmm…”
William’s hand in his hair pauses for a brief moment, but then continues. “Get some sleep,” he murmurs.
Dakota responds, but whatever sounds come out of his mouth are unintelligible. His eyes fall close as he holds William tightly in his arms and William still has one arm draped over Dakota’s back and the other still threading softly through his hair. He feels himself slip away in the confusing concoction of William’s cold touch that lights a small, gentle and warm flame in his heart.
William’s alive- maybe not alive in the traditional sense, maybe not alive the same way everyone else is, but he’s still alive and here. And there will probably always be a part of Dakota who feels like he failed William because maybe if he was stronger, faster, or just didn’t get distracted, maybe the Trickster wouldn’t have slipped away…but he still has another chance and Dakota won’t fail again.
Eventually, Dakota falls asleep to the rise and fall of William’s chest and the sound of quiet, soft breathing.