Chapter Text
Dwight Fairfield wasn't going to die. Not this trial, not again.
Too many times in a row he had died. It hurt so much now. Every trial he failed the pain seemed to multiply tenfold, it was that Things way of punishing them, pushing them harder and harder until they broke.
Dwight was about to break.
Slowly he lets out a breath and peeks around the corner. The tall lumbering Trapper picks up another one of his namesake traps and looks around thoughtfully. He ducks back and prepares to do something horrendous.
Twenty or so feet away was David. He could sense the man in that strange way he was able to, bright yellow outline of the man working on a generator. They were the last two left, and with only two generators powered...there wasn't a lot of hope in his heart for escape.
The Hatch was his last light. To keep it burning, someone needed to die.
Dwight stands and breaks into a run, leaping over a window as loudly as he can. Immedietly he hears footsteps behind him, approaching far too quickly for his plan to work. He starts towards a pallet leaning against the wall, barely catching sight of the trap in time to jump over it and dart left. David jerks up from the generator, giving Dwight a panicked and scared look as the machine lets out a loud explosion.
He prays that lady luck blesses him for once as he runs away from the boarded walls and ducks behind a rock. The air is still and stale as Dwight's heart hammers in his chest, taking slow even breaths.
A snap and a scream secure David's fate. Immediately Dwight rises and runs in the opposite direction, keeping his eyes on the ground for the hatch and traps. He hops over more than a few traps as David's screams echo through the prison of tonights trial. Dwight crouches pressing against the wall of the dilapidated shack, and he waits.
It takes forever for the minutes to pass, until he feels the warm pulse of the Thing taking David away. Relief floods Dwight's body and he starts moving, keeping low and quite as he listens for the wind. He needed to move faster than what was hunting him. Or else it would hurt, the pain would be so unbearable. He needed to survive at all costs.
Wind. Hope.
Dwight starts running. He sees the open hatch, inky darkness practically wafting out with the warm air. His heart starts to race as he takes a running jump, clearing the bear trap and plunging into the warm dark in a single, easy movement.
Every ache and pain vanishes. The burn in his side, the pain in his joints, his chronic migrain, the tense shoulders. Everything is gone. Dwight relaxes, and floats in a void.
He lived. No matter the cost. He lived and thats all that he needed.
- -
Those that escape trials always get back to the campfire first. The process of reanimation is longer than a simple stiching up from the fog. You get back from it almost more exhausted than before the trial. That sorta thing wears you down after a while, it breaks the bones and make the rush for survival more desperate.
That's why Dwight did what he did. He felt guilty yes, but he couldn't be ashamed. Death was not an escape, he needed to live. To dull the pain.
It's what he told himself as he walked back to the bright beacon. Smiling gently at Laurie and Ace as they sat silently around the fire. If he remembered correctly Bill should be emerging soon, followed by Claudette then David.
He drops down next to Ace, letting out a sigh and looking up towards the murky sky. Ace nudges his shoulder and flashes him a playful smile.
"Have fun?"
"Can't say I did, Ace."
The man hums thoughtfully and tilts his sunglasses towards Dwight. Ace reaches forward and takes the newly refreshed pack of cigarretes from Dwight's pocket. Stealing two before retuning the packet to him.
"Hatch game?" He asks, lighting his cigarette from the campfire.
He looks away from the black shades and nods. Guilt crawls down his back and churns his stomach.
"Yeah."
Ace nods in understanding and falls silent. The crackling of the fire covers up the light footsteps behind him until the soft voice speaks up.
"Good job." Jake murmers, stepping over the log and taking a seat across from him. The praise makes him smile.
Slowly Dwight relaxes, staring into the flickering flames and enjoing the survivors high before the next trial rips it away. He would try his best next time, now that he was feeling better and-
"Fairfield!"
The roar sends Dwight to his feet, but he doesn't run. Instead turning to face the very angry figure of David storming out of the woods. Followed by a confused looking Claudette and ever stoic Bill. His heart starts to race as he makes out an expression that can only be described as the wrath of a god. Dwight remains silent, unable to bring himself to run away into the woods.
"You fucken' cunt! The fuck was that about?" David yells, stepping over the log and arriving neatly into Dwight's personal space.
Finally Dwight gathers himself enough to take a few quick steps back, raising his hands and trying to deescalate the situation.
"David I-"
"You led that monster right to me!" David hisses, unrelenting as his bandaged hands grab Dwights shirt, "I know you did!"
Dwight's eyes dart around. Past David, he can see most of the others. Ace pointedly stares at the fire, while most openly gawk at them. Not that he blamed them, rarely get a show like this.
"Just calm down, David." He says, taking on his customer service voice, "There's-"
David reels back and punches Dwight in the face so fast and hard he scarcely registers the pain over the crack of his nose.
"I know you used that ability of yours to find me, then you left me for dead on that hook. Don't think I didn't see it." David growls, voice dropping to a more frightening tone, "You dumb fucking-"
Dwight clenched his fist and rams it into David's jaw.
It was no secret he and David didn't like eachother. Since the day that man emerged from the fog Dwight disliked him. The man was loud, agressive, abrasive, and rude. His personality rubbed Dwight the wrong way, and as much as he tried to hide it, David knew. He knew that Dwight hated him and took advantage of it. Always pushing his buttons anytime he even looked at him the wrong way. David didn't hate him back of course, he just wanted to piss someone off.
That's why Dwight did it. If it was anyone, anyone else that was in that trial he would have died fair and square. But since it was David, and since he died so many times before this trial, since his pain was so great and horrible, he was able to kill David.
David's fist connects with his gut next and Dwight gasps. He can't pull away from David so instead he starts to claw at the mans hands and arms. Digging his nails in the skin and pulling up blood. Rage starts to bubble in his chest, suppressed anger at this violent awful man coming to the surface.
"So what! Who cares! You just come back anyway!" Dwight screams, starting to thrash in David's grip, kicking at the mans legs, "What was I supposed to do!"
"Work on the fuckin' generators and open the damn door! Not sit on the hatch while I hang there." David yells back, shaking Dwight so violently his glasses fall off.
"I'd rather die than work with you." Dwight hisses, "You're just a dumb jock with a life on a silver platter that you drink away!"
David's brown eyes take on a new type of darkness and he shoves Dwight away. He stumbles, tripping over the log behind him and falling to the dirt with a pained grunt. His head bangs onto a rock and stars flash before his eyes. David's weight drops onto Dwight and he feels hands wrap around his neck.
"At least I don't let my friends fucking die."
"Y-you're not my friend."
The hands on his neck cut off his air. He can see the blurry forms of the other survivors behind David and wonders why no one was helping. Maybe it was the strange overwhelming presence he felt as soon as David started yelling. A warm and heavy weight pushing against the back of his head, whispering at him to make David feel worse. To push him. To push himself. He claws at the hands, gasping desperately as he tries to wiggle out of the large mans grasp. He can feel blood on his fingers.
"Pen"
The voice emminates from a place deep in his mind. Foreign and hot, it coos at him. Repeating that one word.
"Pen. Pen. Pen. Pen."
Dwight reaches into his shirt pocket, next to the cigarette pack was a fountain pen. One of the small joys in Dwight's life before this hell was calligraphy. He took a small amount of pride in his handwriting and expresses that with high quality writing utensils. With his thumb, he pops the cap off the pen and grips it in his fist.
The nib was sharp, and seemed to flash in the campfire. Dripping with red ink. He never used red ink.
Did he use red ink? No....no it was black? Right?
The voice in his mind rumbles and tells him to drive the pen into David's head and twist. To stab him until the hands at his throat relent and he can breath. Until he feels hot blood, brain and gore drip onto his face.
His knuckes turn white, and stares into David's eyes one more time before he personally takes the light out of them. They seem to soften.
The pain in his throat stops, and Dwight gasps for air. He lets the hand gripping the pen fall to the ground. Coughing violently as David sits up on his haunches and stares down at him. Dwight can see him taking slow and deep breaths.
"Don't..." David starts, pausing to take another breath, "Don't come near me. Trials. Here. I don't care."
The man leans down, dropping his voice to a menacing whisper, "Or I will fuckin' kill you, Fairfield."
Then David stands and walks away. Just like that the pressure drains from the campsite. Immediately everyone jumps into action. He can see blurry form of Ace following after David, voice fading as the man vanishes into the trees. Dwight sits up, looking down at the fountain pen in his hand for a moment before finding the cap and tucking it in his pocket. He wipes the blood away from his nose, sniffling painfully and squinting around for his glasses.
No one was approaching him, and that was okay. He really didn't deserve to be comforted. Not after what he did. His fingers brush the warm metal frames and he stands. Putting the glasses on as he turns away from the fire, stumbling as he tries to escape through the tears filling his eyes.
Warm leather brushes his arm and he flinches, looking over to see Jake at his side. His face was serious and firm, but Dwight could see concern in the mans dark eyes.
"We need to talk."
Dwight looks down at his feet and nods, bringing a hand up to wipe away a few tears. Jake's hand gently wraps around his upper bicep, and leads him down a small, slightly worn path towards his campsight. Jake had set up a cute little lean to made of logs a small distance away from the main campfire. It was fairly large, Jake could stand at his full height at the tallest point. He had found a tarp in the woods somewhere to cover the entrace. The man had made it clear he liked his privacy, so the fact he was taking Dwight here for a talk meant it was going to be bad. Jake gestures toward the entrance.
"Sit. I'll patch you up."
Dwight nods, crouching down and taking a seat on the folded scraps of fabric near the wall of branches. Jake crawls in after him, grabbing a medkit from the neat stack of supplies near the back of the shelter. He sits still as Jake removes his glasses and starts gently dabbing the blood away from his face with a sponge, carefully avoiding his tender nose. Dwight stares down at his hands, waiting for Jake to speak.
"What happened with David?" Jake asks finally, voice soft and understanding.
Dwight stares at his glasses, awkwardly trying to fix the crooked legs of the lenses.
"Exactly what he said. I left him to die to get out." He admits, rubbing his temples, "I just...I had to. It-It fucking hurts Jake. It hurts so much. The past few trials I've died, there's so much pain, and I just couldn't take it anymore."
Jake is silent as he packs up the medkit, tucking it back in its spot. He glances up into the ever stoic face and puts his glasses back on.
"Dwight...you...you really did that?" The other man asks, disappointment sharp as a knife. It makes Dwight flinch.
"Yeah, I did. I lead Trapper right to him and let him step in a trap. I just...left him." Dwight wraps his arms around himself and sighs, "I just...wanted the pain to stop for a little bit."
Jake awkwardly looks away, rubbing his shoulder and staring into the woods.
"...I understand where you're coming from. It's wasn't...right, but it's obvious you feel guilty and.." Jake sighs, running his fingers through his hair, "Are you going to do it again?"
Dwight bites his lip and thinks about that question. Would he do that again? If the pain got too much was he going to kill someone for it to stop?
"I know you...didn't ask to be a leader, especially not our leader, but this is- what you did is fucked up. I'm sure we've done it unconsciously or accidentally, left someone to save ourselves, but...for you to do that to David...it's...it doesn't inspire trust." Jake says bluntly.
Dwight nods, taking a few slow breaths. He wasn't really estatic taking the role as a leader for this nightmare scape. But he did his best, he organized the rest as well as he could during trials. Making sure everyone survives at the sacrifice of himself more often than not. He wasn't able to hide and run away as easily as so many, all he could do was find others. That was the only ability he had been granted by the Entity.
"I'm sorry." Dwight whispers, "I'm so sorry."
"David needs to hear that."
"I know."
Jake pats his knee in a comforting gesture, "It's no secret you don't like David, but you can count on him. I've seen that guy take more hits than anyone else, run any killer around for as long as it takes to get us safe."
"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" Dwight huffs.
"No. I'm trying to make you feel bad." Jake replies, nonplussed by Dwight's annoyance, "David would do anything to save you in a trial, even after this...Incident. Even if he hates your guts. He would never give up on you, and you shouldn't give up on him."
Tears come to his eyes. Jake was right and he hates it. He hates how selfless David was. Fuck that guy.
"I know. I know." Dwight murmurs.
Jakes hand squeezes his knee and Dwight looks up.
"I'll admit it, I haven't been the best in trials too. I let people hang on the hook longer than I should, I hide more than I work with others. But...when I'm with you...in a trial I feel...inspired. I work faster, and we live longer. You always know where we are when we need it. You're a good leader, Dwight."
A smile comes to his face, and he looks away. Raising a hand to cover his mouth.
"Show me what you can do." Jake says softly, giving Dwight a small smile. It makes his stomach flutter.
Jake pulls away, leaning back on his arms and lets out a thoughtful hum. His presence had calmed Dwight down immensely. He was still sore from his fight with David, each swallow hurt but he felt more at peace. Even if he died, even if it hurt, he wasn't going to give up anymore.
"Do you want to know how I find people?" Dwight asks, bringing his knees to his chest to rest his head on his arms.
Jake tilts his head curiously before cautiously nodding.
They don't talk about their gifts, the abilities granted to them by the fog. No one wanted to think about the implications of such feats. The way Nea could move in through the underbrushwith inhuman speed,, or how David would always get up after being knocked down, why he and Claudette could find anyone, anywhere. It was an unspoken rule to not mention it. But he wanted to help Jake as much as the man had helped him.
"Think about your teammates, where they could be. Once they get close enough you'll see them, or just kinda feel them y'know? Something tells you that Laurie or Bill are only a few feet away." Dwight explains, watching Jake tilt is head with a small frown.
The mans gaze drifts towards the campfire, and his eyes widen in shock. They dart between him and the golden silhouettes only twenty feet away.
"Oh my god." Jake whispers, "You...you see that all the time?"
Dwight nods, "When I'm not in a trial I have to focus it, but in the trial I see everyone all the time."
"Damn...you really fucked David over back there."
"Usually I run the killer away from everyone, why I get caught so fast." Dwight replies with shrug. This seems to catch Jake's interest, as the man sits up in attetion.
"When you get attacked in a trial if you just...concetrate on what you're doing you can become numb to the pain. Won't help now but maybe next trial you can...try it." Jake offers up, "It might help you hide better."
Dwight smiles, unsure if he wanted to cry or hug Jake for all he had done for him in these moments. They had been through a lot together, him, Claudette and Meg had a certain bond that went beyond the others. They had been here what felt like first, and they would be here for a long while after. No matter how close they all were there was still boundaries, unspoken rules and broken bridges they dared not cross.
He can't help but think they had discovered something very powerful in eachother.