Oof here's a mega angsty Dadvid fic.
Contains dark themes towards the end so yeah.
Should this be a multi chapter story? If so then go ahead and review UwU
David chanced a glance down at his watch, before returning his stare to the road ahead.
They'd been driving for a while now.
Every since his parents failed to pick him up, Max had reluctantly thrown his belongings into the backseat of his counselor's car and hoped in the passenger's seat.
The only things he'd uttered were simple directions, complaints about the situation, and overall mutters and grumbles.
David didn't really care, though.
"My dad's… My dad's sick, David." Was the only explanation he'd gotten when asking about why his parents didn't show, which took him off guard slightly.
It had been somewhat awkward afterwards, as the confession ultimately shut the elder up in fear of triggering some kind of backlash.
The time was around 7:30-ish.
"Why do you have to take me home? Why couldn't Gwen've done it?" Max spoke lowly, scowling down at his feet.
The redhead offered an assuring smile. "Gwen has a long drive home, Max. You know she leaves before I do–"
"Yeah, but that doesn't explain why it had to be you. The Quartermaster–"
"It's pointless complaining, Max." His voice was slightly more stern. "I'm going to take you home, make sure you get in safely, talk with your parents, and then leave. This situation is more serious than you think. Yes, your father may be ill, but that doesn't mean it's an excuse for not contacting either me or Gwen."
Max stared at him for a moment, brows narrowed in somewhat confusion. "You… Whatever. Just keep driving."
And that was that for the next thirty minutes.
David swallowed as he took the right turning, now driving through a small town. It was quiet, aside from the blaring music of one house further down the street, and had an overall peaceful atmosphere to it.
"Stop."
The car was jolted as the redhead breaked, parking the car nicely on the curb. Max wasted no time in clicking his seatbelt and jumping out the car, swinging open the doors to the backseat to fetch his duffle bag and stuffed bear.
David followed in suit, growing when his hands were swatted away as he reached for Mr Honey Nuts. He watched patiently as the raven trudged up the porch and rang the doorbell, seeming unphased as he fished out a key from his pocket.
"They're not in."
"Are you sure?" David slowly made his way to stand next to the child.
Max rolled his eyes, twisting the key about in the lock until it clicked. "Positive." And with that he pushed open the door, sliding the bag off his shoulder and dumping it against the wall lazily. He met David's curious gaze with a cold stare. "What?"
"I should stay with you. Just in case anything happens." He beamed down at him. "May I come in, Max?"
The boy blinked once, shrugged, and stuffed his hands deeper in his hoodie. "I guess so." He muttered and wondered off to the kitchen, opening the fridge and burying his face inside. "I dunno when they'll be back."
"Oh no, that's alright." David assured, glancing around. The place was surprisingly tidy, especially for somewhere where Max lived.
It was refreshing in comparison to the chaos of Camp.
He cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure the boy wasn't watching, before wondering swiftly to a certain room at the end of the corridor.
A soft smile graced across his face as his eyes laid upon the sign hung on the door.
MAX'S ROOM
He gently pushed open the door.
Huh. So this is where the mess is, then…
The room was just your average child's bedroom; a single bed positioned in the corner, a nightstand, a wardrobe, and a simple desk. As expected, when opened, the wardrobe was mainly full of oversized hoodies and skinny jeans. Some of the jeans were littered in scuffs and grass stains, as well as the occasional smeared blood stain.
Despite the crimson David was glad to see a sign of Max having fun, most likely from running around in the garden.
The desk was littered with textbooks and notepads and pens. He knew Max was homeschooled already, so this came as no surprise as he began flicking through a few of the textbooks. Standard subjects, nothing special.
The only issue was the bed.
There had clearly been zero effort put into tidying it, not to mention the duvet laid scruffily over it.
Sighing, he went with his instinct and trotted over to the bed. "Hey, Max?" He called. "Do you mind if you come help me tidy up your room–?"
Suddenly he raven dashed into the bedroom, skidding to a halt. His wide eyes flickered back and forth from his bed and the counselor. "N-No! No, David, don't fucking–" He cut himself off as David pulled up the duvet, revealing the mattress.
Correction. The stained mattress.
The elder furrowed his brows, an embarrassed flush appearing on his cheeks. "Oh."
"Fucking get out–!"
David simply raised a finger to silence him. "It's fine, Max. You're at that weird age." He had yet to turn and face the child, eyes still examining the mattress. "You should really be telling your parents if you're… you know–"
"I said get out!" Max snapped loudly, barely holding back the crack in his voice. He glared at him angrily, eyes wet.
"Max–"
"Fuck off, David! You fucking pervert! It's not even mine you fucking idiot! Piss off!" Max was shouting now, fist clenched at his sides.
David shuddered. Max was spouting nonsense now, his mouth moving without a second thought. "What did you just say…?"
"I said fuck off!" He yelled as his entire being shook with anger. "Are you fucking deaf?!"
"…Why isn't it your semen on the bed, Max…?" His voice had quietened to a hoarse whisper, licking his lips as the child's face suddenly fell.
He blinked.
Max bit his lip, trying to stop it from trembling. He took in a shaky breath. "I told you. My dad's sick."