Archive of Our Own ^beta

max felt small, he decided.

max felt small as he sat out on the dock, far from the tents, under the stars, and exhaustion thrumming throughout his body.

he knew it was sometime early in the morning, but didn't care enough to snag david's phone to check. he didn't care about anything. he's just so fucking tired all the time, and not the sleepy kind. he's tired of everything, tired of feeling so mentally worn-out, tired of trying, tired of even thinking about being tired.

the boy groaned, sinking even deeper into his hoodie and leaning back on the wooden plank behind him. his foot barely skimmed the murky water as he let his leg hang off the platform beneath him. 

the stars were bright and unwavering, staring down at max, making him feel so small and so dumb.

all negative emotions come from space, huh? he recalled with a bittersweet snort.

max learned from a young age that emotion equals weakness. if he showed any type of that "weakness" around his parents, he was the one who had to endure the consequences.

when max was 6, he got hit for the first time.

his father had backhanded him across the face just because max was crying from a nightmare.

it was late at night, max wandered into his parents' small room with tears glistening on his face as he shook his father awake, which ended up awaking both parents. his father blinked away sleep angrily as max had blubbered and stuttered over his words, trying to frantically explain what happened in his wild dream.

his dad let out a mix of a groan and a growl before he reached down and slapped him so hard that max physically stumbled back.

it surprised everyone. his mother now fully sitting up, watching with fearful eyes, his father's hand still in the air as he breathed hard, and max's fingers reflexively shooting up to his cheek to hold the area of pain.

max's lower lip trembled, but he didn't dare let out a noise. he looked up, meeting his father's eyes, feeling fear rise in his chest.

if someone had asked max now, when his life went wrong- he would be able to pinpoint the exact second he watched a new look of hunger for power, a new look of sadism and pleasure for suffering, a new look of sick control fall into his father's irises.

and all his mother did was watch.

that is what hurt. it hurt even more than the smack. it hurt more than his throbbing cheek. watching his mom be a bystander and not even trying to help him. not even trying to save him.

max distantly remembers stumbling out of their room just as quickly as he had came in. that night, he realized he couldn't go to his parents when he had nightmares anymore.

because they were the nightmares.

max scoffed bitterly at the memory. sometimes he was just so, so fucking angry. angry at the universe, for being cold hearted and unforgiving. at his parents, for never caring about him enough. at david, for pretending everything is fine when nothing is okay.

david was hard to explain. david cared, and it was new and confusing, so max did the only thing he knows how to do in response to emotional advances.

he acted out.

he tried to escape camp, made jokes about murdering david, and constantly denied caring about david or the camp.

he was scared and confused, so he did what he does best. he tried to distance himself from it, he tried to push everyone away in an attempt to get a better result, but just like everything else in his pathetic life- it didn't work. 

over everyone, max was the most angry at himself.

he was angry for feeling like this. he hated this. every fucking bit of it.

max didn't even realize he was crying until he felt the wetness creeping down his face.

"fucking hell." he bit out, but it didn't have much force in it due to the voice crack that followed. he buried his face in his hands, attempting to stop the tears, but it was no use. his shoulders shook and his eyes leaked despite his wishes.

crying made him feel so gross, so weak, so small.

it made him feel like he was six years old all over again, staring in the dirty mirror at the purple bruise that blossomed the following morning, not understanding what went wrong.

he mumbled a string of curses under his breath through his tiny sobs.

max sat there for a few minutes, buried into his sweatshirt, letting out the bottled up emotions that have been brewing in the pit of his stomach for too long.

it was quiet, the only sound being the crickets chirping and an owl occasionally crying out, it was almost relaxing.

until he heard footsteps approach him.

another long line of profanities were falling from his mouth before he could stop them as he scrubbed at his face aggressively, sniffing hard, and trying to wipe away any trace of tears that lingered.

max's hands reflexively balled into fists and his shoulders tensed as his head shot up, breathing heavily and trying to ignore the stray tears that betrayed his body's wishes.

there stood david, in all his fucking glory.

he looked tired, his eyes blinking away sleep as he held a flashlight drowsily in his hands. he was wearing a green baggy t-shirt with a hole torn at the bottom and a pair of dark grey sweatpants stopping above his bare feet.

he looked down, pointing the flashlight at max. the boy hissed at the light, covering his eyes. "it's me, you idiot!" he hissed.

both of them paused.

david and max could tell, just from those four words he had been crying. his voice was nasally, raised several octaves, and cracked more than a handful of times. max felt his heart rate quicken. shit.

with a quiet click the flashlight was off. max quickly turned his head away from david, breathing hard as he stared out at the lake in front of him.

he heard rustling and a quiet 'oof' before he realized david was sitting across from him. 

time to face the music, max thought to himself with a quiet half-hearted scoff.

"you can go back to sleep, david." max sniffled quietly, trying to make his voice sound tough, but instead he internally cringed at how cracked and worn out it sounded. god, he forgot how the aftermath of crying was almost just as bad as the actual crying itself.

"max." his voice was soft and caring and it made max want to throw up.

"what, david? what the fuck could you possibly want from me right now?" his voice didn't have the same intimidation chord, but the point still stood nonetheless. his anger was blossoming, eating him alive. he felt so trapped.

before david could even answer the question, max interrupted harshly. "and do fucking not start with me about that whole 'everything is going to be okay' bullshit, because nothing is okay! can't you see? nothing is fucking okay!" his voice was raw and it began to crack as new tears formed in his eyes.

his chest rose and fell rapidly as he panted harshly, the tears weren't stopping and neither was he.

"you tell me everything's okay all the damn time! but you're just fucking lying to me! you're a liar! you're a fucking-" max found out quickly that it was hard to cry, yell, and breathe all at the same time.

his words got caught in his throat and he stumbled over his breaths.

david acted fast. he was quick to scoop max up and pull the younger boy towards him, max didn't have the energy or will to protest. david held him close to his chest. "hey, hey, shh...breathe, max. breathe. inhale, exhale." the man rubbed circles into max's back as he over exaggerated the demonstration on inhaling and exhaling.

max followed suit, his breaths wracked with shudders and coughs. max listened to david's heartbeat, which was a bit fast. a small part of him knew why. because he's worried about you, he cares for you. max shoved those thoughts deep down before they could surface.

once max's breaths were reduced to somewhat normal, david allowed and assisted max in sitting up in front of him.

his eyes were puffy, his face marked with tears, and his lips chapped and parted.

david's heart hurt just at the sight of him.

"max, i've never lied to you and i promise i never will." he declares in a quiet voice. when he hears no response from max, he continues- "everything is going to be okay, max. just because it's not right now does not mean it never will be." david looks at him and speaks to him with care, his eyes worried and full of hope.

"things have to be bad before they're good, max. i trust that you of all people know that very well." he finishes, a small smile ghosting his lips.

for a few minutes it's silence again. just the two basking in one another's presence and max's head buzzing with thoughts.

he's right, max thinks to himself. 

the boy blinks up at david, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to decide on what to say. david doesn't mind though. he's patient. a content look on his face as he enjoys the sound of nature around them.

"yeah." max says quietly, his voice hoarse. "i-yeah." he repeats himself because he truly can't find the right words for david.

he can't find the words for his gratefulness, his appreciation, his care. he has no idea how to express it, but david seems to understand his foreign way of saying 'hey, i care about you too.'

"yeah?" david asks with a smile creeping on his lips.

max snorts, shoving david playfully.

his face feels weird due to the dry tears, he has a killer headache, his throat is burning from screaming, and his eyes are tired and beginning to droop,

but none of that seems to matter because david is here, and max actually feels like he's allowed to let his guard down in front of him

sure, shit gets weird and emotions get different and confusing,

but max knew deep down, david is the one person he can count on to catch him when he falls.

"yeah."