Author's Note: This is based on the amazing Dalton by Cp Coulter. I don't own Dwight or Dalton or anything else mentioned, Cp Coulter does :).
This is supposed to continue from Hell Night and it's kind of like my prediction for the next episode.
Red everywhere. The heat surrounded Dwight. Flames all around. Everything happened in a flash. Suddenly he was on the floor. Had he fallen? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember much of anything, only heat. Of course. How could he forget the heat?
There were people standing above him, looking down. Their faces going in and out of focus. But he knew who they were. They were his friends. They were yelling. Yelling at him? They were clearly upset. He could hear crying from many of them. The sounds of their crying and yelling were muffled by the crash of yet another piece of the ceiling breaking free and crumbling into a heap of dust on the floor.
Nothing was clear anymore. The words directed toward him weren't clear. The faces of his friends weren't clear. Nothing was clear. Except for the fire. The fire was clear. The red flames were clear. The heat was definitely clear. He wished it wasn't clear. He hated the fire. He hated the red and the heat.
And then, it wasn't clear. The flames weren't as red. The fire wasn't as hot. The faces and the voices seemed to be even further in the distance. He could barely make out the words anymore.
Suddenly, another voice called out in the distance. This voice, however, was clear. This voice came from a different direction than the others. Dwight knew that voice. He would always remember that voice, no matter how long it had been.
The voice called out again. Dwight could feel tears of joy trying to break free. He couldn't even be bothered to listen to what the voice was actually saying. He was too overcome with happiness from hearing that wonderful voice again after he had wished daily to hear it just one more time.
Dwight stood up. Even though he was no longer lying on the floor underneath them, his friends didn't seem to notice. They still continued to cry and yell as if he were still there. Dwight turned around and was at once taken aback by the beauty of what he saw in front of him.
It was so simple, yet so beautiful. It was just a white light and it contrasted so hugely with the light behind him that was produced by those terrible red flames. It was extremely bright, but Dwight didn't feel the need to squint or blink. This light didn't hurt his eyes. But what really took his breath away was the person standing in the white light.
It was a young boy. A young boy Dwight knew very well. He was smiling at him and his bright eyes were glowing.
By now tears were flowing freely down Dwight's cheeks. He was seeing him again. He couldn't believe he was actually seeing him again after all this time.
The boy looked up at him and motioned with his hand to come to him. Dwight gladly obeyed. He began walking over to the boy, thinking that his legs couldn't move fast enough. He stopped. Dwight suddenly remembered something. He looked back and saw his friends behind him, still in the red heat, still surrounded by the red flames. Dwight desperately wanted to help. He turned back to the young boy covered in white light, suddenly unsure of himself. He gave the boy a questioning look. The boy smiled and nodded. This reassured Dwight. He had a strong feeling that his friends would be ok.
He took one last glance at his friends. He smiled. A goodbye.
He turned around and again began to walk toward the young boy, who was encouraging him every step of the way. He didn't look back again. A huge smile graced his lips as he made his way over to the boy and the white light. The amazing warmth he was feeling grew stronger the closer he got. He walked up to the boy. Dwight wanted to pick him up and hug him. The boy reached out his hand. Dwight looked down at it. He was sure of himself now.
He didn't know what he would find behind that white light. All he was sure of was that he was alright, and he was always going to be alright.
Dwight was finally happy again.