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This was it. The generators were repaired and the doors were almost open. It’d been a difficult trial, but if they were lucky it looked like all of them were going to make it out in one piece. Dwight could see Mags’ glowing aura (a helpful perk she’d learned from Quentin), showing them all the way to the exit gate. He knew she could see him too; she waved for him to hurry up. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he rushed forward, and suddenly a scream emanated from behind him. No sooner had he spun around than he saw David’s limp form being hefted up off the ground and over the Clown’s shoulder, before the latter lumbered off in search of the nearest hook.
Dwight tried not to panic as his brain worked fast to figure out what to do. Nea was the fastest, but she could do no more than crawl at the moment. Mags was too far away; she’d never make it in time. If David was hooked again, he was dead. Would it be better to simply cut their losses and get himself out of there alive...? Others might have said yes. But if there was still a chance to get David out of there with the rest of them, Dwight wanted to take it. And there was still a chance, he realised.
He knew what he had to do. He could practically hear Mags’ voice in his head, egging him on. Dwight ran after the Clown, and soon the pair was back within his line of sight. He paused only for a second, psyching himself up. It was now or never.
‘Hey!’ he barked, and the Clown paused. He seemed to turn in slow motion as Dwight recalled what Mags had been trying to teach him day after day up until this moment.
Stance wide. Back straight. Shoulders squared. Thumb outside. Rear back, and follow through!
Blood gushed from the Clown’s bulbous nose as Dwight’s fist met its mark, and David fell to the ground in a heap. He quickly scrambled back to his feet, and the two of them took advantage of their hunter’s momentary lapse in focus to make their escape. Mags was still standing there, lighting the way to the gate for them. The Clown was hot on their heels, and Dwight ducked as a bottle of that foul tonic went whizzing past his ear.
As the gate came into view, they saw that Nea was back on her feet; she and Mags were cheering them on. The men willed themselves to run ever faster as the way to safety hurtled towards them, and as soon as they crossed the gateway their teammates followed. They heard the Clown’s roar of anger as the trial grounds disappeared, and the Survivors ran until the adrenaline had worn off.
Eventually the four paused to catch their breath. Nea flopped down flat on her back in the grass. Mags was clutching at a stitch in her chest. Dwight was bent double with his hands on his knees, his mind reeling over what he had done.
‘Okay,’ he said breathlessly, ‘that is officially the craziest thing I’ve ever done in my life.’
‘Fairfield!’ Mags barked, but she was grinning ear to ear. ‘I saw the whole thing, that was incredible!’
‘What was incredible?’ Nea asked, looking from Mags to Dwight and back again. ‘What did he do?’
‘Our boy Fairfield ‘ere done finally used that what I taught him!’ Mags said proudly. ‘Went right up to that circus knob an’ slugged him proper, he did! Got David free an’ lived to die another day!’
Nea raised her eyebrows in surprise, then sat up, smiling at Dwight. ‘Who’d’ve thought you had it in you, Dwight? Mad respect.’
Dwight gave a weak laugh and glanced at David. ‘I-I mean, it was either that or leave David to die. The choice was obvious.’
He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see David looking at him, his expression inscrutable. David slid his hand down to rest on Dwight’s upper arm, before pulling him into a firm kiss.
Dwight immediately froze out of not-unpleasant shock, but it was only a moment before he relaxed, eyes fluttering shut as he returned the kiss.
Mags and Nea gave each other a smug, knowing look. They’d both been watching for what seemed like ages as Dwight and David had flirted back and forth (Dwight was markedly less practised at it than David, but even his dumbest advances had managed to send the latter into a blushing mess), and the only question now had been which one of them would finally knuckle down and commit, and when.
The pair broke apart, a faint, cocky smile playing across David’s lips. Dwight moved his mouth, trying to talk, though it took a couple seconds for the words to come out.
‘Y-You’re welcome,’ he said, and the girls burst out laughing. He jumped; David’s kiss had driven all thought from his mind, and he had all but forgotten they were even there.
‘Well Nea, looks like you owe me and my torch a few extra heavy-duty batteries!’ said Mags.
‘What? Bullshit, David made the first move!’
‘No, David kissed first,’ Mags argued. ‘An’ it ain’t about the kiss, mate, it’s about the gesture. I dunno ‘bout you, but I say there ain’t nothin’ more romantic than punchin’ a killer clown in the face to save your man!’
Dwight and David looked at each other. The former wasn’t sure whether to be amused or annoyed that apparently Mags and Nea had been betting on them, but David just snorted and shook his head.
‘Come on, you lot,’ he said. ‘The campsite ain’t gonna come to us.’
Nea got up from her spot on the ground and the four continued their trek back home (or the closest thing they had to home, anyways). Dwight and David brought up the rear, Dwight looking between David’s hand and his own shoes.
Come on, Fairfield, he thought. You punched the Clown in the face today, you can do this.
Hesitantly he reached out and tried to take David’s hand, but instead wound up only brushing it with his fingers. What little nerve Dwight had had left evaporated and he instead resolved himself to staring at the ground as he walked, his face burning.
He was utterly surprised, for the second time that night, when David returned the gesture. He looked up to see David’s face glowing about as red as his own felt, then back down at David’s hand. He was fidgeting his fingers as though not quite sure what to do with them. Dwight smiled and offered his hand once again, and David took it in his own. Dwight sidled closer to David as they walked, idly running his thumb over David’s.
David’s grip was warm and strong; Dwight could feel the calluses on his hand from countless tussles and trials. And as Dwight found himself savouring the feeling, it occurred to him that this was the happiest he had been in a long time.
Yeah, he thought. Because ever since getting snatched up into this nightmare world, I haven’t been happy. Only ‘less miserable’. Hell, I’m not completely convinced I was happy even before coming here.
When the group got back to the campsite and the others, David made no move to let go, and neither did Dwight. Because for the first time in God-only-knew-how-long, Dwight Fairfield was actually, genuinely happy.