Author's Note: Quantum's fiction request, which I'm finally getting off the ground. The idea's a little similar to "Holes," but I hope it's different enough to keep your interest.

Pairings: Gan Ning/Ling Tong, Zhou Yu/Sun Ce, Shang Xiang/Lu Xun on the side. Shang Xiang/Lu Xun was part of Quantum's request, and I just can't help myself with Zhou Yu and Sun Ce.

Summary: AU. Camp Wu – a place for swimming, horseback riding, and juvenile delinquents. Of them all, only Ling Tong does not belong. Far worse than the bugs, the mud, and the screaming children is his co-counselor, an obnoxious boy named Gan Ning. He's the picture of trouble and Ling Tong hates him. But Gan Ning isn't as easy to understand as he seems. How much can change in the course of one summer?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The assortment of cabins, lodges and patchy spruce nestled into the base of a high mountain valley was called Camp Wu – or, by those who knew it better, Camp Juvie.

It was a government-funded summer camp, replete with all the furnishings: twelve log cabins with double bunks, canoes on a long, glistening lake, a stable of well-broken horses, their tails swishing against the June heat. Picnic tables decorated with pine needles and thieving squirrels were laid out across the wide clearing, and in the very center of the unit, just outside the lodge that housed both the cafeteria and the manager's office, was the flagpole, its colors waving a greeting in the warm wind.

It was a nice façade. But even from where he sat in the passenger seat of his uncle's Subaru, one elbow leaned against the window that was keeping the air conditioning all to himself, sixteen-year-old Ling Tong could tell Camp Wu was one of those sites that would leave the earth a better place if it were just wiped out. It wasn't the scenery that needed cleansing – the mountains were pretty enough and the lake looked cool and inviting, ripples from the wind lapping it against an old, creaking dock. No, what Ling Tong could have done without was the group of people swarming off of two long, yellow buses, backpacks and sleeping bags hung off of them from all angles.

From what he could see, the people consisted of three managers – the adults with bullhorns, of whom his uncle Cheng Pu was one, who were trying ineffectually to organize the mobs of campers – eleven moderately-sized high schoolers who had to be the counselors, and about fifty screaming, racing schoolchildren between the ages of eight and ten, all of them bundled up in their best camping gear. No doubt the baseball caps and sunglasses adorning their eager faces were the parting gifts of proud parents, confident in their goodbyes that they had sent their children to the best home-away-from-home their kids could get for two months, a real gem among the summer programs available to preteens, the most upstanding establishment within four hundred miles.

What a joke.

Ling Tong leaned back in his seat and directed his gaze to the ceiling, uncomfortable despite the steady flow of unnaturally cold air across his face. He crossed his arms behind his head, remembering the advertisement for Camp Wu that he had seen on the site's brochure.

At Camp Wu, your children will receive the highest quality of outdoor learning, games and fun available, all while under the responsible eye of our first-rate student volunteer counselors… Ling Tong snorted to himself, flicking a mote of dust out of the sunlit air. First-rate counselors – that was the real lie.

All of the counselors who came to Camp Wu were juvenile delinquents, sentenced to the community service project in place of serving time. Among the kids his age now assembled, only Ling Tong was not a member of the scum of society – only he had been brought here by accident.

For as long as Ling Tong could remember, his uncle Cheng Pu had done what his parents always called "civic work." It was only once he got into high school that he learned "civic work," in Cheng Pu's case, was about the same as being a parole officer for the members of society who were too young or whose crimes were too trifling to shut them away in juvenile hall where they actually belonged. Cheng Pu forced them into community service, tracked their whereabouts, and generally fought to reorient them to society, apparently something very few of them were interested in. And, once a year, he organized Camp Wu so that the odds and ends of his delinquency work could get a few karma points.

Ling Tong never associated with people like the ones who'd been gathered here. Sure, there were cliques in his school, gangs even, and sometimes he heard that things got violent, but he was wrapped up in the drama program and barely had a life outside the theater, let alone a social circle. And that was why his being at Camp Wu was a complete mistake – a mistake that his mother would be hearing more about as soon as he got back, and sooner if he could find a telephone in this blasted place.

School had only been out for a week or so when Ling Cao and his family had invited Cheng Pu over for dinner, which wasn't so odd since Ling Tong's mother, Cheng Pu's sister, invited him over a lot. What should have caught Ling Tong's attention when he got home late that evening was how nicely the table had been set out, a full tablecloth and home-cooked meal in the place of the usual pizza or pre-made chicken that his parents' hectic schedule allowed. But Ling Tong was tired from a long day of practicing with the local theater company and he didn't pay the arrangements any mind, accepting his quick hug from Cheng Pu before digging into the food with abandon.

After dinner, as his father was bringing out a plate of cookies and a round of milk, Ling Tong's mother cleared her throat, smiling at her son and her brother across the table. "Tong," she began, and immediately her son dropped his fork, recognizing the gentle tone of his mother's voice as an extremely bad sign. Mrs. Ling pulled at her collar and gave her brother another fleeting glance.

"You know your father and I have to go on sabbatical this summer – we'll be in France almost until school starts again."

Ling Tong nodded warily, trying to find the catch in his mother's words. Mrs. Ling glanced at her husband for confirmation and then reached across the table to take her son's hands, brushing her soft professor's fingers over his.

"I know you were supposed to stay here while we're gone, but now that the neighbors are going on vacation as well…" Mrs. Ling hesitated a moment and then sighed, running a hand through her graying hair. "Your father and I just don't feel comfortable leaving you here alone. There are so many things that could go wrong—"

"You're going to stay with your uncle," Ling Cao broke in, dropping a cookie onto his son's plate in his usual brusque fashion. Ling Tong's father gave him a sharp look before settling back into his chair, one elbow propped up against the table. "You'll be going to that camp he runs."

"No way!" Ling Tong shot back – but his was not the only voice of dissent, and Cheng Pu rose to his feet, bracing both hands against the table as he stared into his brother-in-law's cold eyes.

"Cao, you can't do that. Tong doesn't belong with those kids – he's different from their kind. He shouldn't have to spend time with people who can't even keep themselves inside the law—"

"So just put him up in your office. I didn't say he had to play with them – I just said he was going with you."

Cheng Pu appeared at a loss for words, and the red swarming his cheeks made Ling Tong wonder whether there was going to be an explosion across the dinner table. Mrs. Ling headed it off with a hand on her brother's arm, her eyes pleading as she caught Cheng Pu's gaze.

"Please, Pu. I know it's a lot to ask of you, but there's no one else we trust to take care of Tong while we're gone. And three months is just too long to take him with us." Mrs. Ling smiled encouragingly at her son across the empty plates. "Besides… Tong's a very nice boy. Surely he'll be able to make friends with some of the kids there. They're all about his age – and it might be good for him to meet some new people."

Cheng Pu sat slowly back into his seat, his face undecided as he looked between his desperate sister and her unaffected husband. Ling Tong huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair with his features set in a full scowl.

"That's not fair. Why should I have to go to some stupid summer camp with a bunch of delinquents just because you and Dad are out of town? I'm old enough to take care of myself. It's not like I get a lot of adult supervision when you guys are here anyway, since you work all the time. What's the difference?"

"Tong—" his mother started, but Ling Cao didn't let her finish, standing up and staring his son down from his full height.

"Listen here. The work your mother and I do is very important. Sometimes everything isn't going to work out how you want it – that's just a fact of life, and if you haven't learned that by now, then we've spoiled you rotten." Mrs. Ling pressed her lips together and said nothing, folding her hands in her lap as her husband glowered down at their only son. "There are a lot of people in this world who have things worse than you, and it might do you good to meet a few of them."

Ling Tong swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to argue that the people at Camp Wu weren't less fortunate than he, just worse human beings. Cheng Pu stared into his water glass, his coal-black eyes hard as Ling Cao sat back down and watched his son from across the table with a severe expression. At last Ling Tong's father sighed and reached down into his briefcase, retrieving the day's newspaper and flipping it open across his raised knee.

"Now eat your cookie, and thank your uncle for taking care of you."

Ling Tong's face contorted, and he shoved himself to his feet, moving around the table at a near run. "Thanks," he snapped over his shoulder, and then he slammed the door to his room behind him and collapsed onto the bed, pummeling his pillow for a few minutes until the feeling subsided.

After that, Ling Tong had tried all manner of solutions, gimmicks, and undignified tantrums to try to get out of going to Camp Wu with his uncle. But in the end, nothing could sway his father – and now here he was, only minutes away from mosquitoes, sunburn, and the last people on earth he wanted anything to do with.

A tap on the window caught Ling Tong's attention, and he reclined his seat back to its upright position, glancing up to see Cheng Pu waving at him through the window. Reluctantly, Ling Tong cracked open the door, and the heat invaded along with his uncle's voice, ruining the effect of the air conditioning in a matter of seconds.

"Hey, Tong – you doing all right in there?"

Ling Tong huffed, folding both arms across his chest. "Sure. I'm just thrilled to be here. You know I'm a big nature freak." There was that, too. Ling Tong hated camping. He'd never liked it, or hiking, or any of that outdoorsy adventure kitsch. Now he was stuck in it for two months.

Cheng Pu sighed, running a hand through his coarse hair. "Come on, Tong – work with me. I didn't want this any more than you did."

Ling Tong glanced away, his gaze settling on the dashboard instead of his uncle's face. "…Yeah, I know. Sorry about that."

Cheng Pu laughed and reached out to shake his nephew's shoulder. "It's all right. I know that sharp tongue's what makes you so good in drama. Just watch yourself around here, all right? Some of the other kids have pretty short tempers."

Ling Tong gave a little snort. "You mean this isn't a camp for saints? Maybe I came to the wrong place."

His uncle shook his head. "Look – it won't be that bad, I promise. You're going to stay with me in the main lodge, and you won't have to see the other kids any time except meals. You brought some things to read, didn't you?" Ling Tong nodded, but it was a surly motion, equal in unhappiness to his black expression. Cheng Pu ruffled his hair. "Glad to hear it. Well, come on out – grab your bags, and as soon as the campers are in their groups I'll help you settle in. For now, you can just get the counselors' names. All right?"

"Sounds like I don't have much of a choice," Ling Tong grumbled, but he pushed himself out of the car anyway and surrendered to the summer heat, which was almost overpowering despite the thin atmosphere. He followed Cheng Pu to the trunk and slung three sets of bags over his shoulders – clothing, snacks, and entertainment – and then let his uncle lead him back toward the center of camp. The schoolchildren were all in a huge clump, and another of the managers – the nametag clipped to his cowboy hat read "Han Dang" – stood at their head, just finishing up a welcome speech.

Most of the children looked bored to tears, and the other half were restless, their eyes clearly pinned to the group of counselors at Han Dang's right. Ling Tong and Cheng Pu came to a stop somewhere near the back of this group, and Ling Tong surveyed the high schoolers surreptitiously beneath the fringe of his bangs. There were three girls and eight boys in total, all with varying degrees of ruffian practically spelled out across their faces. Ling Tong could tell immediately that his mother had been dreaming when she suggested he might make friends with some of them, and he folded his arms over his chest, keeping his voice low so that only Cheng Pu could hear him.

"This is it, huh?"

Cheng Pu nodded, one hand slipping up to pat his nephew's back in reassurance. Then he moved forward through the crowd to join the other managers and left Ling Tong alone, isolated in the midst of the delinquents with a heavy scowl on his face. Han Dang finished his speech and handed the bullhorn to an intensely burly, sunburned man in a lifeguard cap, whose booming voice echoed across the camp's central clearing even without the amplifier.

"Hello and welcome, everyone! My name is Huang Gai, and I'll be the senior manager here at Camp Wu. Before we divide you into groups, I'd like to go over a few of the rules…"

Ling Tong rolled his eyes, already tired of everything Camp Wu had to offer. A general murmur of boredom ran through the counselors and the schoolchildren at the announcement of the next speech's topic, and then a chorus of whispers began in the various sections of the gathering, everyone under thirty tuning out Huang Gai despite the sheer volume of his words.

"No one is allowed in the forest around camp after dark. There will be no fighting. Lights out is nine o'clock every night. You kids should either be in sight of the counselors or one of us managers at all times—"

The boy in front of Ling Tong shifted and stepped backward in obvious boredom, and as he did so the heel of his cowboy boot came down hard on Ling Tong's toes, prompting a yelp from the young drama student and a sweeping silence as all eyes turned to stare at the source of the noise.

"Hey! Watch what you're doing!" Ling Tong snapped, forgetting for a moment his promise to keep his tongue in check. The boy turned around and blinked at him, one hand coming up to run through the brunette spikes of his hair.

"Oh… sorry 'bout that. My bad," the boy offered, holding up one hand in a gesture of responsibility. His tan face was split by a charming grin to match his implacable accent, and Ling Tong had a feeling that in another circumstance the expression might have been friendly – but he was in no mood to make friends, and he crossed both arms over his chest, ignoring the sixty odd eyes that were watching their interaction.

"Apology not accepted, jerk. What are you, an ox? Watch where you're putting your feet when you've got heels on."

Ling Tong could hear mutters running through the people around him, and he was sure that had he looked Cheng Pu would have been making signals at him, urging him to stop before he got into a fight. But Ling Tong wasn't feeling particularly charitable, and neither apparently was the boy who'd bumped into him, his face contorting in a heavy frown. The young cowboy drew himself up and turned to face Ling Tong fully, eyes flashing dangerously in his formerly welcoming face.

"Hey now. Heels are for little girls like you – you oughta feel lucky I'm not wearin' my spurs." Ling Tong bristled at the insult, and the boy across from him folded both arms over his chest, looking Ling Tong up and down. "What's a lady like you doin' here anyway? You weren't on the bus with all the others."

Ling Tong opened his mouth to reply, his cheeks burning either from the sun or from anger at the other's comments, but Cheng Pu got there first, barreling through the flock of counselors to drop a hand onto both boys' shoulders. His eyes were hard, but his voice was so low that Ling Tong doubted it even carried to the other high schoolers around them, most of whom were peering curiously at him.

"Hey, you two." Cheng Pu glanced between them with a stern frown, his eyes softening a little as they landed on his nephew. "Ling Tong, bear with this just a little longer, all right? Just let me get these kids where they need to be. Then we'll go inside."

Ling Tong huffed, glancing away from his uncle to study the cabins instead. Cheng Pu turned his gaze to the other boy and Ling Tong could see his fingers tightening around the cowboy's shoulder, so hard that he wondered if the nails would leave a mark.

"Gan Ning… I told you to take those ridiculous boots off before you got here. Tennis shoes or sandals only, you hear me? You could hurt someone with those."

"Che." Gan Ning shook Cheng Pu's hand away and reached into his pocket for a lighter, pulling out the cigarette that had been tucked behind his ear and dropping the cylinder between his lips. "Would you shut yer trap, old man? I heard you the first time."

Cheng Pu snatched the cigarette from his lips and crushed it under his heel, his frown deepening as he ground his foot into the dirt. "No smoking – and don't talk to me that way. Being here is a privilege, Gan Ning – a privilege you could lose. Remember that."

Something about the speech seemed to snap Gan Ning out of his attitude, and he looked up at the manager seriously for the first time, slipping the lighter back into his pocket before running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I know, sir. Sorry. Didn't mean ta say that. It was a long ride, that's all."

Ling Tong watched the cowboy's transformation in open surprise, wondering silently whether Gan Ning had a split personality disorder or just a really short fuse. Cheng Pu sighed, and his posture relaxed as he patted the boy's shoulder. "I understand. But don't let it happen again, all right?"

Gan Ning nodded softly, and Cheng Pu moved back through the crowd to join his fellow managers, ignoring the whispers that went up on all sides of him and the stares focused on the boys he left behind. Gan Ning gave Ling Tong another sideways glance and shrugged a little.

"What's with you, anyway? I said I was sorry. You're kind of a brat, aren'tcha?"

Ling Tong huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and staring out across the lake. "You're kind of a jerk," he returned as Huang Gai resumed his explanation of the rules.

Gan Ning snorted but said nothing more, and Ling Tong glared at the glistening water, thinking to himself that he'd never been sorrier to have met anyone in his life as he was to have met Gan Ning, and that he'd never been so sorry to be anywhere as he was to be at Camp Wu.

End Chapter 1