Max didn't get scared.

He knew all the negative emotions. He'd felt all the negative emotions. But he didn't get scared.

Okay, he got scared. When he was at home and his father was drinking and yelling his name "MAXWELL!" over and over again, screaming because Max did something wrong or forgot something or fell asleep or just.. His father yelling because he needed something, someone to take his frustration out on. When his father got violent and sometimes physical trying to prove a point to the kid. He got scared when his mother just stood by watching silently, her eyes wide and scared but grateful that it wasn't happening to her.

Max got scared.

But Max didn't get scared at Camp Campbell.

And Max certainly didn't get scared of David.

Or maybe he did. But it wasn't the same kind of fear, the fear Max was used to.

The counselor annoyed him to no end. That smile. The laugh. The sparkle that always seemed to be in his eyes. The positivity. The encouragement. The cheerfulness. It annoyed him.

It intrigued him.

It scared him.

Adults. They were the bane of his existence. Max couldn't remember, before he met David at least, the last time he'd seen an adult smile and laugh. The last time he'd heard a positive comment from an adult. Or heard any encouragement. Got any affection. His teachers all hated him and besides that and his parents, Max tried very hard not to interact with any adults. He'd learned from experience that all adults were bad. He used his parents as an example for that one.

So he tried to make any adult's life a living hell. They'd made his a living hell, so…

And oh, he did pretty well. Aside from his parents Max had managed to break down every adult that he crossed paths with to the point where they all just started to avoid him. Good.

But David was different.

David didn't avoid him and David didn't break. David smiled and laughed and responded with that cheerful, happy tone. David didn't mind showing affection or giving praise. David fought back. David fought back to try and break down whatever walls Max had built up around himself.

That scared him.

It scared him because nobody else had ever tried that. No other adult. David was the only one who didn't seem fazed by his pessimistic behavior, his insults, his anger, his hatred for the world and all adults in the world. David just smiled and continued on as if it were nothing.

It was wearing Max down.

The kid found he'd had less tactics to use. Less methods of making David's life hell, of breaking David before David could break Max. David was winning.

Max couldn't let him win. Max was scared.

He was scared because he wasn't used to it. He knew adults to be cruel, heartless, apathetic assholes who just didn't give a shit. He wasn't used to smiles and positivity and cheerfulness and he wasn't used to fucking affection.

But David showed all of that. And he wasn't afraid to.

But Max was.

He didn't know how to deal with it. He didn't know how to respond. So he responded in the only way he could. By shutting down. Shutting off. Trying harder and harder to break David down, to get under that cheerful mask and find the asshole underneath because there had to be one. Adults were dicks. David was an adult. David was a dick. He had to be. He had to be.

Because if he wasn't then what did he want?

What did he hope to get from his cheerful behavior? What did he hope to accomplish? Was it a charade? Did he have some kind of hidden motives?

Or was he really that naive and trusting and carefree?

Was he really that nice?

Could adults be nice?

Max's thoughts were so contradicting. He couldn't decide what it was but something was off with David. And he didn't know if it was bad. But it couldn't be good. It had to be bad.

Right?

Right?

Max didn't get scared but right now he was terrified.

His mint-green eyes narrowed silently into the water as his feet hung down, kicking silently at the water, but his foot never came close enough to brush against the still, gentle surface. For some reason that frustrated him, wanting to see it ripple, so he scooted forward slightly toward the edge of the pier, but he was still too short to reach the water. Eventually he just reached over and grabbed a small pebble, letting it drop into the lake and feeling a faint sense of satisfaction when it made the water ripple.

It was nice at night, and he liked to come out to the lake. When he couldn't sleep. Or when he woke up in the middle of the night from the nightmare, scared and gasping with nobody to comfort him. Of course he was used to that. He didn't get comfort at home and he most certainly didn't expect to get any comfort here.

He didn't know whether he liked Camp Campbell more than his home. Sure, no yelling, no abuse. Yet. If he did manage to break past David's cheerfulness, then he expected some shouting and anger and maybe for it to get physical, he didn't know. But that didn't seem right. David, getting violent?

Max had to scoff at the thought, picking at a loose thread on his hoodie. That was a stupid thought.

But what if it wasn't so stupid? What if the whole happy-go-lucky thing was an act? What if beneath that mask, David was just like every other adult? Like his father?

Better the devil I know, Max suppressed a shudder as his arms seemed to wrap themselves around himself, kind of curling in on himself at this point. I want to go home, God dammit…

Home.

It didn't seem like a fitting word for his town, his house. Home is where the heart lies, He'd heard David say that before. And if that was true, then his house certainly was not his home. So where was his home?

Max's gaze flickered momentarily toward the camp, and his lips pressed together into a firm line, eyebrows pulling down and furrowing together.

Oh, like hell.

Shaking his head, he turned back to study the water, letting his thoughts trail off. He was brought back into reality, however, when he heard footsteps approach. Instantly alarmed, he scooted himself back from the water and turned slightly, eyes narrowing faintly.

"Hey, Max."

Max didn't say anything, his gaze tracking David as the counselor came over to sit beside him. He stayed completely silent, shifting over slightly and moving away from David, silently turning his gaze away, back to the clear water.

David was silent as well, and Max could feel the counselor's gaze on him. Finally though, David looked away and that's when Max spared a look toward him. He looked… Exhausted. He had bags under his eyes, which had lost the usual sparkle. The smile was gone.

Max felt something shift. A small prickle of worry stirred somewhere deep down inside of him. Not for David - Or so he told himself - But because David wasn't smiling and he wasn't speaking. The two words that the counselor had uttered before hung in the air. And Max swore there was tension.

Or maybe he was just reading too much into it.

Max stared for a moment before shrugging and looking away. "Hey, asshole."

Silence.

No warning of "Language"

Not a sigh.

Not a frown.

Not even a glance in Max's direction.

The worry just got worse and pretty soon he couldn't take it anymore. "Got nothing to say, dickhead?"

This time there was a sigh as David glanced at him. And Max nearly flinched because David looked so worn down and exhausted and for a second his resolve wavered.

And then he remembered this was what he had wanted.

He wanted to break David down.

He wanted him to snap. He wanted him to snap just so he could see that David really was just like all the other stupid-ass cruel adults.

So, Max continued to press. "Cat got your tongue?"

Nothing. David just stared. Weary. Resigned.

Max swallowed down the rising worry, ignoring that instinctual, childish feeling that told him when adults were silent then that was a cause for a concern. He didn't care. He didn't care.

"Okay, Avox." Max mumbled, turning his gaze away. He couldn't think of anything else to say, suddenly. Couldn't think of another way to try and break David down.

So he just closed his eyes. And after a minute or so of silence, he mumbled a soft; "Fuck you, too."

Silence again.

And then; "Language, Maxwell."

Max stiffened.

Panic. Rising, overwhelming panic, that was his first reaction. Maxwell. He heard his father's voice so fucking clearly and oh, god, it hurt. His heart was suddenly pounding as fast as fucking possible as the terror sunk in. It was jolting, like a plunge into icy water.

And suddenly there was a pressure on his chest and he couldn't breathe. Couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He heard yelling, his father's voice screaming his name, screaming that he was useless and worthless and wasn't good enough and that nobody cared…

And pain, he felt the pain clearly even though nothing was happening.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality, and he managed to snap out of his terrorized state momentarily, only to sink right back into it instantly. The hand's grip tightened, shaking slightly, then he felt another hand on his cheek. He could hear yelling.

Not angry. Frantic. And it was the wrong voice.

David…

Why was David there? Why was David yelling?

Max's mint-green eyes scanned frantically for the counselor's face, but he couldn't seem to focus. He could make out a few of the words that the voice was yelling, though.

"Max, Max, hey! Hey, it's okay, breathe, Max, breathe.."

Max's eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. He wanted to speak but he couldn't seem to yet. All he could think of was his father yelling, slamming doors…

Oh God.

"Dad," Max choked out, curling in on himself as his fingers tugged into his hair, small shivers running through him. The hand on his cheek was removed instantly, but it was back again a second later, trying to lift Max's head up for some reason. He flinched away from the touch, voice raising.

"Dad, Dad, I'm sorry-"

And then someone's arms were around him, and Max was startled into silence, his hand suddenly pressed to a firm chest, feeling the heartbeat beneath. It was slow and calm and steady and it made the yelling stop instantly. The dizzying terror was slipping as he forced himself to focus on the beats, counting them subconsciously as the panic began to ebb away.

Someone was touching him, one hand rubbing circles on his back and the other gently rubbing up and down his wrist. And they were speaking, too, mumbling soft, soothing words that didn't really make much sense to the kid.

"Max, breathe.."

David.

Not Dad.

Max felt a rush of embarrassment, and also slight anger, but also relief. Complete relief. He wasn't at his house and he wasn't with his father. He was at Camp Campbell with David and he was safe.

David. Safe.

Huh… Two words he'd never thought he'd associate with each other. Max didn't think he was safe anywhere. After a few moments the kid pulled away, not meeting David's concerned gaze. He didn't speak. He didn't have anything to say.

"Are you okay?"

"Fuck off." Max mumbled, instead of answering with a "Yes" or a "No" because truthfully, he didn't know whether he was okay or not. He went silent for a moment, then suddenly lifted his gaze to David's face, not really meeting his gaze. "...Don't ever call me Maxwell, you dick." He growled, pouring as much anger and hatred into the words as possible.

"Oh, God, Max, I'm sorry." David said softly, pulling him closer, much to the kid's chagrin. "I'm sorry. I didn't know.."

"You still don't," Max snapped, struggling, and David let him go after a second of hesitation. Max moved away, not sitting back down but staying on the pier, staring down into the water. "Just… Don't call me Maxwell."

"I won't." David said solemnly, sounding stressed and concerned. It didn't fit him, but Max didn't really care right then. David went silent for a moment. "But.. Can I ask why? Why.. That happened?"

Max's gaze snapped back to him in an instant. What was really annoying was that David was sitting hunched over, and he was still taller than the kid. But Max didn't dwell on that too much. He just stared silently for a while.

After a moment, he just narrowed his eyes. "No."

David frowned, looking over at him in concern. "Max, I can't help you if you don't let me."

"Help me?" Max asked incredulously, his mint-green eyes widening faintly. "Wh- I never asked for your help, David. I don't want your help. I just want you to stop being so goddamn happy all the fucking time and I want you to leave me alone."

David flinched slightly, barely noticeable. "Language.."

"Fuck off." Max grumbled.

"Max." David took a deep breath, looking back over at him with a soft, concerned frown on his face. Max wanted to punch him, he really did, but he restrained himself. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Let me help you."

"I don't need your help!" Max's voice raised slightly in exasperation, but he quickly lowered it again, taking a deep breath. "I don't want your help."

David frowned, lips pressing together silently, thoughtfully, before he looked down. He went silent, clasping his hands together and closing his eyes.

"I need you to go away." Max said after a moment, his voice unnaturally quiet, soft. Almost pleading. Because he felt it happening. He was about to break down. And he wasn't going to break down with David beside him.

"I can't do that." David mumbled, eyes still shut. "Max, I'm just… I'm worried about you, kiddo. I really am."

"I don't need you to be worried." Max growled, hands curling into fists. The pressure on his chest was back. "And I don't need you or your smiles or your happiness and I don't need you to be here right now!"

"Why not?"

It was a simple question and Max responded truthfully for once.

"Because I'm about to break!" Max's voice rose and he didn't try to control it this time. His hands had began to shake. "I'm about to break and you can't - I can't-" He stepped back, curling and uncurling his hands as he looked around desperately, as if searching for an escape.

David's eyes snapped open instantly, looking over at him worriedly. "Max.."

"I can't do this!"

"Hey," David shifted closer, reaching one hand out toward the distressed child. "Max, calm down-"

"I can't!" Max recoiled, and David felt his heart clench as Max flinched away from him. He was tense, as if preparing himself for something, anything, but nothing came, but the kid didn't relax. "I can't calm down. I just - Go away!"

"I can help you-"

"I don't want your help!" Max yelled, desperate now. "I don't want your help and I don't want you and I don't want to be in this shitty place anymore!"

David flinched. "Max…"

"No! Shut up!" Max hissed, uncurling his fists and bringing his hands up to his head, gripping his hair and glancing down. He was on the edge of the pier. One more step back and he would fall in.

And for a second, just a split second, he considered it.

"Just.." David stared at him for a moment, then took a deep breath and reached out again. "Max, come on. Let's go back to the camp, okay? I'll take you back to your tent-"

Max flinched away from him, however, and shifted back slightly, leaning away, ready to take another step back. "Don't touch me!"

David drew back instantly, eyes flickering toward the water briefly before he looked back at Max, eyes wide and filled with concern. "Please, Max, just come on.."

"No!" Max let out a choked sob, squeezing his eyes shut. His whole body was shaking now. He hadn't wanted this. He hadn't wanted to break down like this tonight. Not in front of David. And he certainly hadn't been wanting to stand at the edge of the pier, thinking about letting himself fall in.

Max was scared. Scared of himself, scared of David, scared of everything.

"Max," David's voice was closer now, wary-sounding, concerned. "Max, come on, let me help you, please, let me help you, it's okay. This doesn't have to be bad…"

Something in Max snapped.

"This is bad! This has always been bad!" The kid shrieked, eyes snapping open to look up at David, tears pooling in his mint-green eyes. "And for the last fucking time I don't want your help! I don't want you or this camp and I don't want you acting like everything's fine and I don't want your happiness or any of that! I just want you to go away! I want you to stop!"

And then he broke down completely into tears, sobs shaking his small body. He jerked back a little when David moved toward him again, nearly losing his balance but he managed to catch himself before he fell into the water.

"I just want you to stop.." Max gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. "Just- Just stop, Dad.." He flinched and quickly corrected himself. "David- David… Just stop."

He didn't have any more left in him. And he didn't fight when David scooped him up. He did mumble small protests to the soft, soothing words of "it's okay" and "you're okay" and "just relax, everything's fine". Empty words. Meaningless. He managed to stop crying, but all his strength had left and he didn't fight anymore, just squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

He was asleep by the time they reached the tent. David frowned down at the kid as he settled Max into his bed, brushing his curls out of his face and pulling the blanket over him. His hand lingered over Max's shoulder, squeezing gently and mumbling one last reassurance of; "You're okay." as he brushed the dried tears off of Max's face.

Then, with a sigh, the counselor reluctantly backed away and turned, casting one last glance over his shoulder toward Max before leaving the tent.

He didn't get any sleep that night.

All he could think about Max. He didn't know how to help the kid if Max wouldn't let him. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to help.

"I don't want your help."

David shook his head, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. I know that's not true. He thought. I'm going to help you, Max. It's okay.