"Dwight..."
The name was breathlessly uttered from her lips barley above a quiet whisper.
Mrs. Fairfield just stood their starring at her son as though she could not believe that any of this was real, that it was just another dream. In front of her was her baby boy, still wearing the same dirtied clothes that he had on when he went missing all those years ago. His messy hair drew little attention away from the various bruises and cuts taking over his precious face. The porch light shone over his rough features revealing that she was not the only one on the verge of tears. The illumination somehow made him look even worse.
In one quick swoop she was clutching her son in her arms, afraid that if she let go he would disappear again. Trying to hold back her tears she buried herself in his hair ignoring the smell. Large heaving sobs shook her body but after some time she realized that they were not her own but her child's. No matter what age her son may be she would always care for him and hearing the pain in his cries hurt her on a whole other level.
"Sherry?! What's happening? Are you alright?"
Large thunderous steps entered the foyer but paused as they spotted the scene laid out before them in the doorway. From his angle Mr. Fairfield saw his wife shaking, supposedly crying, as she held something in her arms. Furious at the fact that the 'ding dong ditchers' had made his wife weep he stomped up behind her and demanded that she tell him what has happened. Grabbing her gently by the shoulder he turned her around. Staggering in still holding an iron grip on his mom was Dwight attempting to hide his face behind his mother's head.
"He's home." Mrs. Fairfield choked out as she stroked Dwight's back in a comforting manner. "He's finally home."
Now Keith Fairfield wasn't very good with understanding his own emotions let alone comforting others when their's went awry. He often found it difficult but seeing his family in pain like that he knew exactly what to do.
Wrapping his arms around both family members he held them in a tight grip and rubbed circles into the back of his son's neck with his thumb. Even if Dwight wouldn't dare to show his feelings to his dad he had to let him know that he was there for him in some way.
After quickly sneaking out to close the door and returning the Fairfields all stood in their foyer hugging each other till their son calmed down and finally stopped wheezing.
Taking her son's tear stained face in her hands she brought it up to face her. Running her thumb over a bruise Sherry stopped as she saw the young man's face scrunch up in pain.
"Sorry. Dwight...oh my God. We missed you so much." She paused to let out a shaky breath. "We...we thought you were gone."
She placed her forehead against his as she began to cry again while Dwight avoided eye contact by staring at the floor. The middle aged woman pulled away and placed her hands on his shoulders.
"You're hurt, Honey, I know that but are you okay?"
Dwight continued to stare at the floor as he muttered his reply.
"I'm...I'm fine, Mom."
Chiming in his dad sighed. "Dwight, would you please look at us?"
Lifting his eyes from the floor he looked at his parents in front of him, fear and agony evident in his eyes. He shifted uncomfortably in his worn office shoes under the worried glances of his parents. He just wanted this to be over, to fall asleep and never wake up. He knew this was going to be hard but the looks that he was getting from his parents were even worse. He didn't want them to see him like this, they were already embarrassed enough by him.
Sensing the tension between them Sherry interjected by changing the subject.
"Umm...Honey, why...why don't you clean yourself up. You know where the bathroom is and you left a couple of your clothes here when you moved out. They should be in the closet of the spare room; your old room."
Shifting his eyes back down to the carpeted hardwood floor he rubbed his arm.
"Thanks." With that Dwight sidestepped his dad and hurried up the stairs to the spare room.
His parents stood there in their pyjamas looking at each other until Sherry broke the silence.
"Our son is back, Keith. They said he was dead! That there was no way he could survive for that long." She collapsed into the tall man's chest, holding on around his waist. "But he's alive." Letting out a small laugh a smile spread across her face.
Keith began to stroke her hair, the rumble of his chest as he talked giving Sherry a tiny bit of comfort. "They never did find the body. Or any traces of him for that matter."
"Two years. He'd managed to survive for two years and make it back to us." She raised her head to look him in the eyes her face filled with worry. "What did he go through? Was he really lost for all that time? Did someone take him? Or-"
"Sherry!" Mr. Fairfield interrupted her rambling. "It's okay. He's with us now." His arms wrapped around her and he began to rock from side to side, soothing her.
"You're right. We can ask him tomorrow when he's feeling better. My baby looks like he's been through hell and back."
Keith slowly nodded his head but spoke up as he hit a revelation. "Hey, it's..." He glanced at a clock." 11ish and I don't think we're going back to bed anytime soon. How about some tv?"
"Yeah. I'd like that."
Taking his wife by the hand Mr. Fairfield led her down the main hall and into the neighbouring family room.
Having retrieved his clothes from the top of his old room's closet Dwight headed towards the glowing bathroom. Flicking the light on he entered and locked the door behind him. He knew his parents wouldn't disturb him but the security helped to ease his paranoia. Placing the clean clothes on the counter he began to undress.
He slipped off his dirty shoes and smelly socks and started a pile in the far corner of the room. Unknotting his tie gave him some issues but once that was loose they joined the others in the corner. One by one the articles came off until the final piece was thrown in, completing the filthy pile of dirt covered clothes.
Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose he looked at himself in the mirror. Nearly every spot of Dwight was covered in smudges of dirt, bruises, or wounds, the worst being around his face and forearms. What drew the most attention was the angry pink scar near his left shoulder that looked like someone just stabbed a sword through him which wasn't far off from the truth. The longer he stared the stronger the memories washed into his head until eventually he just couldn't take it. Placing his glasses next to his clean clothes he stepped into the shower.
Cranking it up to hot the young man revelled in the feeling as the first drops hit his chest. After not having a shower in 2 years the water felt heavenly. He just wanted to stay in here and not face the horrors of his mind or the judging glares of his parents. Dwight just wanted to remain in there in complete bliss.
Bowing his he watched as the water flowed over his hair and into the drain, stained in red and brown hues. All of the grime was going to take awhile to wash off but the pain would take even longer. Grabbing the bar of soap he began the painstakingly long goal of ridding his body of the blood and dirt.
After his task of not only washing his body but his hair as well, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a lavender coloured towel from the rack. He gently dried himself off being especially careful around the large pink scar. Placing the towel back on the rack he grabbed the clean clothes and got dressed then added the finishing touch, his glasses.
Just before placing the frame back onto his face he stopped and noticed the dirt caking the entire thing. Giving a groan he placed them back down and opened the mirror. Sure enough just as he remembered it was a bottle of glass cleaner and a rag sitting on one of the shelves. In all his years living in the house being the only one with glasses his mom always managed to have a bottle for him in the medicine cabinet. After a good clean he returned his glasses to their rightful spot and gave himself one final glance in the mirror. His shirt thankful covered up his ugly looking scar but left his face and arms visible. He still looked like trash but at least he wasn't gross.
Leaving his vile clothes in the bathroom he turned the light off and headed down the stairs.
After about one very comfy episode on their large couch the couple heard light footfalls coming down the stairs and then nothing. Leaning over to her husband she talked in a low whisper.
"He must be done."
Raising her voice so the footsteps could hear she called over. "Dwight, Honey, we're in here."
The foot steps continued until they hit the entrance to the family room. Craning her neck to look at the doorway she waved him over.
"Come on. Right here." She patted the couch cushion next to her as she scooted over a bit.
With slow weary steps he made his way over to the couch and sat up straight. Having real human communication after 2 years kinda makes a guy on edge.
Sherry frowned as she looked over his posture. Sitting stiff as a board in a faded Batman t-shirt and gray sweatpants was her son. Not wanting him to act that way she grabbed his far shoulder and pulled him close in a comforting snuggle. He jumped at the first initial contact but otherwise was fine. His mom gave a small smile at the fresh scent Dwight gave off, happy that the old odorous smell was long gone. His damp hair brushed her cheek as he settled his head on her shoulder. Keith had stayed quiet but smiled in approval. He never really understood his son but at least he had Sherry who did.
They all stayed like that on the couch for about two more episodes without a single peep from Dwight.
"Keith."
"Yes."
"I think he's asleep"
Resting on his mom was a sleepy Dwight quietly breathing with his head still lolled on her shoulder.
"Well come on then. Let's get to bed. Leave him here so we don't disturb him." Slowly he sat up from the couch as to not make a noise.
Mrs. Fairfield just started to move her son when he gave off a panicked yelp and shot up straight. His head jerked from side to side, panic and confusion plastered on his face.
"Dwight. Dwight! It's okay! It's okay." Grabbing his hands she looked him in the eyes, reassuring him that this was real. "You're here with us. It's okay. I didn't mean to scare you." Her voice and gesture somewhat calmed him, his head looking once again at the floor.
"Sorry...My bad." He played with his thumbs as he spoke his reply.
"Your father and I are going to head up to bed. Would you like to stay down here or come with us?"
"Could I...could I come upstairs?"
Reaching for the remote she answered in a quite tone afraid that he might shatter if she went any higher. "Of course you can. You can use the spare room."
Before she could shut down the only remaining light in the room Dwight scurried off of the couch nearly running into his dad in the lit up doorway. Keith gave a little pat on his back, the young man freezing up at his touch. Though he didn't have the best relationship with his son it still hurt him to see him react the way he did.
With a click the tv shut down and the couple climbed the stairs, Dwight tailing close behind. Keith headed into the bedroom first but Sherry turned around to give one final glance at her son. He just stood there in the dim light of the upstairs hallway staring into the dark open door of his old room. Worries filled her mind as she approached him.
"Dwight. Are you okay?"
"Do...do you mind if I...use the...night light in the bathroom?"
The question that he asked confused her for her son had never been afraid of the dark before. She mustn't had said anything for awhile because he followed up with an explanation.
"I just...can't be in the dark." He shuffled his bear feet on the floor embarrassment evident on his face even though he was trying to hide it.
"Oh yes it's completely fine."
Running into the bathroom she grabbed the light from the wall, making note of his old clothes, and returned holding the object out to him. He gingerly took the light whispering a 'thank you' as he did so. Turning on the light to his room he began to walk in but paused as he heard his mother's words.
"I love you."
Shuffling towards his mom he reached out and gave her a hug.
"I love you, too"
With that Dwight returned to his room but didn't turn off his light till he heard the click of his parent's door. Collapsing on the bed he took off his glasses and gave a heavy sigh. Rubbing his face he relaxed into the bed. Tonight's whole ordeal was more exhausting than he thought. At least he didn't have to wallow in complete darkness or be alone. Dwight began to close his eyes to the gentle glow of the night light.
He was free. He was home at last.