Max sits on his bed, the sheets wrapped around him. There is absolutely no light in the tent, aside from if he was to use his flashlight, which would probably wake Neil. Plus, it'd run the battery down and he really didn't want to go and use the bathroom in the pitch black. He checks the shitty little alarm clock already in his tent: twenty to two in the morning. Their wake up call comes at half past six, and he cannot function on less than six hours of sleep, even with coffee.
He wishes that he isn't such a fucking coward. He wishes that he can just go to sleep right away, like Neil, and any other camper. Max hates the dark. Even at home, the darkness in his room is too nerve-wracking to sleep, let alone being in a fucking forest at night! Forests have wild animals and a camp full of kids is the perfect place for a serial killer to lurk. Haven't these people seen Friday the 13th? Well, that may be a slight exaggeration, but it's the same idea.
There is a sudden burst of rustling trees and chirping birds, making Max jump and grip the blankets so tightly that his knuckles turn white. His heart pounds, his palms go clammy, and he can feel his chest tighten. Shit, shit, shit, someone's there, something's happening! His mind races with thoughts of what is, what will, happen. He can't shake the feeling that something's happening. His chest aches, like a fist is grabbing it and twisting it, and his eyes prickle with tears.
Max hasn't had a proper attack (he's looked it up, learnt that he should avoid what causes them) in months, since he always keeps the light on, but in a dark forest, he can't get away or switch some giant light on. It's surrounding him and there's no escape. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna get killed. I'm gonna have a heart attack. He stumbles to his feet, that ever familiar nausea rising up inside of him, and grabs his flashlight. He doesn't want to wake Neil up. He's gonna be sick. Shit, they're gonna find out. Nobody, not even his parents, know about this.
He wants to run to the bathroom, to throw up in peace and get a glass of water, but he can't go outside. Max shivers at the idea, let alone looking or even going outside. Neil is asleep, snoring gently, whilst he paces the tent, the nausea only increasing. Fuck. Fuck. Don't wake anyone up. They'll hear you. You can't run. He sinks to the floor, hyperventilating, and tugs at his hair sharply. He's in such a state that even the pain doesn't distract him.
Tears roll down his cheeks as hot bile rises up in his throat. Max clapped a hand over his mouth but it didn't stop his violent retching and heaving, vomit filling his mouth. It tastes disgusting, and any attempts to swallow it just brings it all back up. He is forced to spit it onto the tent's groundsheet, shitty food splattering noisily. Loud retching fills the quiet night and it's no surprise that Neil wakes up.
"Max? Max, what..? I-I'm gonna get someone, yeah?" Neil says, tugging his shirt over his head and stepping past the sobbing boy. "Just.. stay here? I'll be right back."
Neil leaves, and it's just him and the darkness. He spits the last bit of bile onto the floor and sits on his bed, his body trembling. Max grabs the blanket and wraps it around himself, wiping the tears streaming down his face. He is freezing, he is scared, he is alone. It seems like an eternity before he hears anything but the forest sounds. Neil. Neil's here. People are here.
"Max?" he calls, "Max, I got David."
He doesn't have the clarity of mind to think about David right now. He is cold, despite the heavy blanket draped around himself. David has to bent over to fit into the tent, perching on the end of Max's bed. "Max? Come on, just breath slowly. You'll be okay."
Max shakes his head, but doesn't move away from the man, trying to breathe properly. When David brushes his hair from his forehead, he doesn't try to hit his hand away. His breaths are shaky but slower, the fear lessening. He can't seem to stop crying, to his embarrassment, and buries his face in his knees. David rubs his back gently. "What's wrong? What's the matter?"
Max shakes his head. He can't say it here, not with Neil awkwardly hovering in the corner. "You're getting hot," David says, feeling his forehead, "I think we should get you back to the cabin, just in case."
For once, he nods, leaning against David without a moment's hesitation. He's tired, he hasn't slept well for a month now, and he wants light. He wants something that isn't fear or pain, sadness or anger. He lets himself be guided by the man, only focusing on the blankets he's still holding around himself.
As they enter the cabin, warm and instantly light, Max relaxes. "It's dark," he admits, expecting David and Gwen to tell him that there's no reason to be scared, to tell him that he shouldn't have come to camp. Why would he?
"I hated the dark, too, kiddo," Gwen says, before turning back to her drama program streamed on her phone, but this time with headphones.
"Oh. I didn't know," David says, "why didn't you tell us?"
He shrugs. "It's stupid. There's no reason."
"That doesn't matter. Right now, let's get you to bed. Just take mine," David offers, indicating a neatly-made bed (unlike Gwen's) to his left. The covers looks thicker than his own in the tent, plus there is a dim light, just enough so that he can sleep but not be afraid. Max smiles at his bare feet, blushing, and nods.
"Night, David," he murmurs, not realising how tired he actually is before his head hits the soft pillow.
"Night, Max," David says quietly, smiling at him, "sleep well."