It had been two and a half summers after the end of Camp Campbell when David received a very unexpected call. The day itself had started ordinarily enough, with the redhead waking up to a 7:30 alarm, and starting his day with a steaming cup of chamomile tea. He was out the door by 8:15 and to work by 9:00.

The building was a drab, grey concrete block, with few windows and high ceilings. To be honest, this sort of place wasn't the 27 year old's first choice of workplaces. However in the years since working as a camp counselor, he had found the world had become quite more cynical. Not many camps or daycare centers were tripping over themselves to hire a grown man, regardless of his experience in working with children. The day that the realization hit him, when he received his fifth rejection notice, he couldn't help but think of a pair of snide jade eyes and a raised eyebrow, "I told you so."

At first, it was very hard for David. He had returned to the camp, with Max and Gwen in tow, to find the place mostly deserted. The children were gone, Mr. Campbell was nowhere to be seen, and the only sign of life was a single light in the window of the counselors' cabin. Gwen and David had shared a long look over the top of Max's head, before the ten year old simply walked up to the door and kicked it in.

To David's surprise, inside was one of Meredith's dads- an Agent Miller, if David's memory was correct-sitting in David's favorite chair. Slowly, he turned the chair to face the trio. David's eyes were drawn to the stack of files on his lap, the topmost being a familiar manila folder, with a lone sheet of paper inside.

"Alright! What's the meaning of this?!" Gwen called out, shaking David partially out of his stupor.

"At exactly 6:53 this evening, Cameron Campbell was taken into custody for several-dozen crimes against the United States of Amer—"

"Finally," Max cut across loudly, snapping David back into reality completely.

"Wait a second, what do you mean Mr. Campbell's been arrested?" he asked.

"Goddamit, David!" He looked down at the boy in the blue hoodie, "What's so hard to understand? Campbell's a shitty person who just happened to—"

"If that's true," Gwen interrupted, before David could remind Max to mind his language, "Then where does that leave us? And where in blue blazes are the kids?"

"The kids have all been returned to their families," Agent Miller replied, moving the files on his lap to the desk, and patting the topmost one, "Save for one."

At that, both Max and David blanched, before looking at each other. Where there was usually a cocky smirk or angry snarl, there was a helpless look. That look was surely, though slowly, being overtaken by realization. Before a word could come out of David's mouth, the ten year old had attached himself, firmly to David's skinny legs.

One small hand detached long enough to point to the FBI agent, before the boy started streaking at the top of his lungs, "You can't take me! You can't let them take me! You've got nothing! Nothing!"

Gwen looked at David, his new bushy haired growth, and then finally to the FBI agent.

"Where would you even take him? We didn't even get a last name," she asked.

"Yeah! Why not just leave him here with us, until you can get more information?" David tried, using his best upbeat voice, though the words and though of returning Max to his family tasted disgusting on his tongue. He looked down and tried to give a reassuring smile. "We watched him this long, what's a few more days?"

"I'm sorry—I really am—but that isn't an option," Both David and Gwen's heads shot up. Dread was starting to pool in the redhead's stomach and he had a feeling that he wasn't going to like what was going to come next.

"The camp is being closed and you two are being detained until we're sure you didn't have anything to do with Campbell's schemes," was the reply, as the agent got out of the chair.

"What the hell do yo—"

Through the ringing in his ears, he registered a soft strangled sound come from Max, before he felt the kid detach from his shins. Glancing down, he saw wet, though determined eyes. At that second, he knew the boy was going to run. Max was going to be dragged kicking and screaming, into the agent's car and back to a family he didn't love.

Max was going to run as far and as fast as his little legs could go and David was going to let him.

Realistically, he doubted the ten year would get very far. Even if he did, even with David's instruction over the summer, he would never be able to make it in the woods, let alone the real world, and eventually he would be caught. He had to know that he didn't just have to sit there and take what came at him, that he could fight, even if that fight only lasted an hour or two. He had to try.

"Go," he mouthed.

Sneakered feet touched the floor and the sound covered by the sound of Gwen's raised voice. She was still pelting the poor agent with questions.

David took a step forward, putting himself between the agent and the door. The movement caught two pairs of eyes and he launched himself towards the agent, just as the door slammed shut. The last thing he remembered was a sense of satisfaction that Max trusted him, even just a little, before his vision went black.

He woke up in the hospital, his name cleared, and with no news of Max.