Archive of Our Own ^beta

Max had fallen. Max was hurt. So why was it David who was freaking out? Max was a little kid, and his cuts and bruises were nasty, nasty enough that David would be struggling to keep his composure if it were him. Yet Max was straight-faced, not a tear in sight. He’d always been brave, sure, but this was next level. This was like he was used to being hurt. Like this was nothing new.

That thought terrified David.

“Just drop it,” Max snapped after David flapped around him again, waving the first aid kit as if a second load of bandages and ointment would do something new.

“No, Max. I don’t understand why you don’t want me to help you. You’re allowed to cry. You’re allowed to be in pain. You’re allowed to ask for help.”

“Jesus Christ,” Max grumbled, shifting in his seat so his back was to David. It had to be an act—the cut on his knee was deep, not deep enough to need stitches but deep enough that when cleaning it, David’s insides had clenched, and he’d struggled not to look away.

“Why won’t you let me help you?” Max had let him help him. He’d willingly allowed David to smear antiseptic over each cut and bandage them, but to David, that wasn’t enough. Something was still wrong, and Max wouldn’t let him in, and it was breaking David’s heart.

Max grumbled something that David didn’t catch. “I’m sorry?” It was the wrong thing to say. Max snapped, turning angry eyes on David, who did his best not to wince.

“Because weakness deserves to be punished, okay?! Fuck, are you happy now, David? Did you get what you wanted?”

“…Max.”

“No. I’m fine, David. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“That’s what worries me,” David said softly. He’d suspected, of course. Ever since Parent’s Day when Max had known his wouldn’t show even before they didn’t, David had known Max had neglectful parents. He’d hoped neglect was the worst of it, but he should have listened to his gut, should have known he saw too much of himself in Max to ignore.

Max was abused. Mentally. Physically.

“Max, you must know that I can’t legally nor morally do nothing knowing what I know,” David said quietly. He knew Max would object, knew that the kid liked to do everything on his own and pretend he didn’t need anyone. David had seen him break on Parent’s Day, though—Max was just a ten-year-old boy after all. As tough a front as he put up, he was a hurting child desperate for somebody to care.

David could be that somebody. If only Max would let him in.

“David, just leave it.” Max had his arms folded, a scowl on his face. With his grazed chin and the bruise forming on his forehead, David could only feel sad and guilty. Realistically, he knew he couldn’t have done anything. When Max decided something, he was going to do it, with or without permission. David couldn’t have known what misadventures Max had planned with Neil and Nikki, and even if he had, the only way he might have prevented it was by locking Max up, which was something David would never do.

“No, Max, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can! It’s easy, just push it from your mind and pretend you didn’t hear anything. It’s fine. I do it all the time.”

“And that is part of the problem,” David said gently. Louder, he asked, “Why do you even want to go back there?”

“Because it’s better than the alternative.”

“The alternative?”

“Jesus Christ. Care, okay? I don’t want to go into fucking care, alright? I’m a troubled brown boy. I think we both know how that’ll go for me, David. Nobody would want me.”

Now, really, David wouldn’t stand for that. It simply wasn’t true. “I would,” he said.

Max blinked. “What? Don’t be so fucking stupid!”

“Language,” David said, out of habit more than anything. The day Max stopped swearing would be the day David knew there was something truly, horribly wrong. “You’re a good kid, Max. I wish you had parents that could see that. I wish you could see that.”

Max kicked his shoes against the floor and didn’t say anything. He was avoiding eye contact, making it increasingly difficult for David to gauge the situation. He decided his best approach was to keep going as gently as possible.

“Would you like that?” he asked. “I know I’m not always your favourite person, but I care about you, Max. I can’t make any promises yet, but if coming to live with me would be something you are okay with, I can make some calls.”

“And if I say no?” Max asked the floor, his voice tight—hard to read.

“I still have to make some calls,” David admitted. “I can’t allow you to return to a dangerous home. At the end of the summer, when you leave Camp, it won’t be with your parents. I can promise you that.”

“You’re really grasping at fucking straws here, y’know, David,” Max said bitterly. “I never said my parents were abusive.”

David arched an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?” He didn’t think he was wrong.

David wasn’t sure what he expected: Max to deny it, Max to lie, Max to stay silent…

What David hadn’t expected was, after a long pause, Max to murmur, almost too quiet to hear, “I guess living with you wouldn’t totally suck.”

David couldn’t help the huge smile that spread across his face. He wasn’t meant to have favourites, but he’d had a soft spot for this kid since the moment he’d stepped off the bus, a scowl on his face. “I’d like that,” he said.

“Tell anyone I said that, and I’ll kill you,” Max warned.

David’s smile didn’t falter. “Cross my heart.”

“And I’m not calling you dad, so you can fuck right off with that idea.”

“You can call me whatever you like, Max. David is just fine.”

Another silence stretched between them, David still beaming, Max gnawing on his bottom lip until he finally dared asked the question that was worrying him.

“What happens if they don’t let you take me?”

“I won’t let them say no,” David promised. He would fight like hell for his kid. He would ensure Max never had another controllable bad day in his life. “Now, are you gonna let me finish up here?” David waved the first aid kit again, and as expected, Max rolled his eyes.

“Fuck off, David,” he said, without any bite. He tried his best to hide it, but David could see he was smiling.

Good enough.