So the day had been one clusterfuck after another.

It had started with Neil waking him up with some experiment gone wrong at too-early in the morning. It had only progressed from there until Max had found himself exiled into the woods for something that wasn't even a big deal or even really his fault.

He'd planned on minding his own business. Maybe set something on fire or set up a pit trap for someone (David) to fall into later, when he'd heard the grating voices of the Wood Scouts. In their woods- not that he gave a shit whose woods were whose, but it was the principle of the thing, them being in the same part of the woods he was.

They were messing with the stupid mascot again, poking it with sticks and discussing how they were going to capture it and put Camp Campbell to shame. It was kind of hilarious, how stupid they all were, and the yelp one of them let loose when the platypus no doubt bit him made Max cackle. That, naturally, got their attention and soon enough they were demanding he come out and show himself or they would have to resort to "drastic measures."

Sure they would.

But, he'd played along and come out, hands casually shoved into the pocket of his hoodie.

He couldn't even remember what he'd said to make them so pissed —probably just the truth of how pathetic they and their camp was. His usual charming self, basically— but the next thing he knew, Snake was giving him a shove. It wouldn't have been a big deal, had Max not tripped over the platypus and fallen in a way that ended up giving him a bloody nose— he think he hit his face on a low-hanging branch, but honestly, who really cares. The point was that they'd given him a fucking bloody nose and that shit wasn't going to stand. So of course he'd threatened them, telling them their asses were going to be grass if they didn't beat it while he thought up different effective ways to make them shit themselves. It hadn't worked, and even now, Max blamed their lack of fear on the bullshit that was reflex ruining the obviously intimidating display with a cheek of tears in his eyes as his nose continued to drain over his upper lip.

The damn reaction seemed to have emboldened them even, and the next thing he knew, he'd been the one being threatened. Being told he couldn't take all 4 of them on his own, and even if he told on them, nobody would believe him It didn't even matter that they were right, what mattered was that they had the fucking nerve in the first place. But they'd advanced and without thinking, he'd turned and booked it. He wasn't an idiot. He knew when he was in over his head, and even if he would get as good as he got, he didn't want to deal with those morons. It was a tactful retreat.

As he ran, he'd already been planning on ways to make them pay. Ways that involved fire and Nikki's backwards-ass fighting, some weird stink bomb concoction of Neil's, and some poison oak or ivy or whatever the hell David said grew there and was dangerous. Oh, they were going to get back twice as bad as they'd given.

The planning didn't do much to slow the racing of his heart, though he refused to think it was caused by anything other than the running. Cardio had never really been his thing. Neither had navigation in uncharted parts for that matter, and that fact only occurred to him after five minutes had passed and he was still within the forest. The trees didn't seem like they'd thinned out at all. In fact, it seemed they'd gotten closer together since he first started his getaway…

Slowing into a jog and turning every which way to try and get his bearings or find a recognizable landmark proved to be a fruitless endeavor. The whole escape route hadn't been completely pointless, however, because he no longer heard the sounds of pursuit. That meant he only had one problem ahead of him. Well, it wasn't even a problem, honestly. All he'd have to do was catch his breath and turn around and he'd eventually find the camp.

As soon as he began to shorten his pace, however, the ground disappeared beneath his feet and the sensation of weightlessness briefly overtook him before he was falling headfirst into dirt and ferns and… He must have passed out at some point.

One minute he was rolling down a hill, the heat of the sun smacking his face with every clumsy rotation of his body, and the next he was opening his eyes at the bottom of some fucking ditch with the moon smirking down at him.

It had gotten cold. Well, cold for a summer night, anyway. Part of that was probably due to the fact that he'd managed to land in the only area that had a stream running through it, because why the fuck not. The back of his head was a little wet too, even though he was on his side, and when his fingers came returned dark and sticky after touching the area he couldn't help but laugh, because of. Fucking. Course he was bleeding. Why wouldn't he be? When he wasn't getting beat up by stupid asshole Boy Scout wannabes he was getting punched by nature itself.

Well nature could go fuck itself- unlike a certain camp counselor, he wasn't going to.

He wanted to laugh at his own joke but the pulsing in his head that matched the one throughout his body made the sound come out more like a groan. He turned onto his back, then, staring up at the darkening sky with a frown. It looked pretty late out. Even through the canopy of leaves he could stars emerging in the almost inky blackness. If he stared at them long enough they started swirling together, little light blobs that left imprints behind his eyes when he closed them.

It was sort of funny, how dizzy he felt when he was still on the ground.

Concussions are dangerous, Max. They can cause all sorts of problems, especially with balance and memory- problems Space Kid already has, so don't hit him in the fucking head!

Gwen's voice popped up randomly in his head and Max's eyes snapped open.

"Oooh, shit!"

His sudden shout caused something in the bushes at the top of the ditch to scurry away and along with the realization that he probably had a concussion there were predators and shit in these woods. Under any other circumstances, he might have laughed at the idea of being hunted by a bear or some shit, but given his current situation, he didn't really want to tempt nature. He had to get up.

It was harder an endeavor than he imagined it would be, his entire body flipping him the bird and screaming all at the same time. Everything hurt. But, in taking stock of the likely injuries he had, he didn't think anything was broken. He remembered what broken bones felt like from that one time he'd cracked his elbow after someone had dared him to do a flip off the swing when it was at its highest point.

Dumbest. Fucking. Idea. Ever.

So nothing felt broken. Still hurt like a bitch, though. His vision swam when he finally got to his feet while his whole head threatened to suddenly explode as the blood rushed to it and a headache hit him. Clutching the bleeding patch hidden within his hair, he looked around to see where he'd ended up. It was a muddy area, a sad little stream running through the middle of the ditch, pooling a little around his feet where he'd made a Max-shaped dent in the earth. The water seeped into his shoes and he cursed, moving away from the muddy spot, ignoring how heavy his entire body felt- seriously, he might as well have been run over by the damn bus or something.

Clearly it had been a hell of a fall.

When he turned his attention to the bitchy hill in question, it was pretty clear what had happened. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see how clearly he'd fucked up. The steep angle, the trail of cracked branches and torn up plants… plus all the mud stains, scrapes, bruises, and whatnot all over his arms and legs and hands (and maybe a little bit of his back too, but who was keeping count?)... yeah, he shouldn't have been running without looking where he was going. Such a fucking rookie mistake- had it been anyone else from camp in his situation he would have been laughing his ass off for that exact reason. Still, it could've been a lot worse.

Could have been a hell of a lot better, too. He could have been back at camp, sitting in his tent and getting some clearly well deserved sleep- he'd saved their mascot! Maybe he hadn't intended to, but he had, and that was what should've really been focused on. But no, instead he was standing there, covered in dirt and leaves and probably animal shit, bleeding, hurting, and completely lost. How the fuck was he supposed to be expected to appreciate nature when it was so frequently kicking his ass?

"Whatever," he grumbled to absolutely nobody, because he was clearly all alone out here.

He bet nobody had even noticed he was gone. Not the campers at least, and certainly not Gwen. David was the only one he sort of wanted to hold out hope for, but Max knew even he was a slim chance, given how pissed he'd seemed with him earlier. And given the fact that it was clearly already pretty late and nobody had found him yet, he had to assume that nobody was going to. Nobody cared.

Nobody ever cared when he disappeared.

(One time, before camp, remembered seeing if his parents would even notice if he went missing. He'd skipped school and hid in his closet all day. The school never called to report his absence.

His parents never looked for him.

They didn't even realize he'd been "gone" until he'd finally gotten fed up with waiting for them after they got back from work. He'd stomped into the kitchen around dinner time to pull some leftovers out of the fridge for himself, and when he'd asked his mom if she knew where he'd been all day, she just shrugged him off and said she didn't have time for his games.

His games.

He'd fucking disappeared on their asses without warning for a whole day and she hadn't had time for "his games.")

A sniffle escaped him and Max growled at the display of weakness, shaking his head and regretting it a second later when the movement made his vision swim uncomfortably. It did make the heat behind his eyes disappear at least, so he decided he didn't mind it so much.

So, nobody was coming for him. Whatever. He didn't need anyone to help him. Fuck everyone.

With a huff, he looked around to see if there was an easier way out of his predicament, but even in the waning light he could knew the only way out was up. That left him glaring at the hillside.

"Well, fuck me."

He grabbed the nearest tree for leverage and began his ascent up the hillside, ignoring the shakiness in his legs and the tiny stab of pain in his wrist when he tugged on a branch to help him climb. Nothing's broken, he reminded himself when his arm started throbbing. He'd probably just sprained it or something, which sucked balls too, but not as badly. The climb took longer than it should have, honestly, and he almost fell over more times then he would ever admit- courtesy of el concussion, no doubt. Thanks again, Motherfucking Nature- but he eventually did reach the top. Of course, by then it was pitch black out, the light of the moon doing very little to light his path. If he had his phone on him he would've been able to check the time, but even without it, he guessed it was most likely around 11 o'clock.

And nobody had come to look for him. He knew David and Gwen were irresponsible but this was bullshit.

Predictable, but still bullshit.

He trudged through the weeds and flowers and every other ugly-ass plant that David insisted were beautiful in their own right, and he couldn't see what he was talking about. They were all just different shades of ugly and green, all belonging to the nature that was currently on his shit list. It didn't help that the longer he walked, the more he realized that he still didn't know where the hell he was. He wanted to hit something, or kick it, but all four of his limbs ached like they never had before- like somebody went and took a fucking mallet to his shoulders and thighs or some shit. He could taste blood in the back of his throat and feel the dried stuff in his nose, and all of this was so fucking stupid!

And of course these goddamn woods were only trying to kick his ass more, apparently not satisfied over how thorough of a job they'd already done. That much was clear when he got tripped up on a root and fell on his hands and knees.

"Shit!" He growled at the offending piece of tree and pushed himself back to his feet. In doing so, he found keeping weight on his left ankle made it burn a little bit.

"Oh my God! Are you fucking kidding me?! This stupid fucking camp! Stupid Space Kid! Fuck this! Fuck David! Augh! Dammit!"

Pulling at his hair in frustration only ended up making his head hurt worse, so he gave that up, shoved his stinging hands into his hoodie and continued on.

The whole day had been a waste. A dumb, pointless waste, and it wasn't even his fault. It was Space Kid's. If that moron hadn't tripped into Nurf in the mess hall, then neither of them would've dropped food all over themselves, and Max wouldn't have felt the impulsive need to shout, "Food fight! Whoever hits David's dick wins some candy!"

Yeah. If Space Kid hadn't been such a klutz, then David wouldn't have ended up clocked so much in the groin by the questionable shit they'd been served for dinner, and he wouldn't have gotten all pissed with him and told him to get spend time with nature to cool off and think about what he'd done. Honestly, in the back of his mind he could see how it hadn't been a bad idea on David's part, seeing as they all knew he sure as hell wasn't going to help clean up the mess he'd contributed in creating, but he didn't care about that right now because it was his turn to be pissed off with David. David, who had sent him out here in the first place, and or what? To look at trees and plants, to watch birds fuck and squirrels shit? What was that supposed to teach him?

Was he supposed to view the birds as a metaphor for how fucked he was when he got back to camp? Were the squirrels supposed to remind him that he was a shit? Were the neverending expanses of trees supposed to stand as a comment to how, just like them, he didn't matter, and in the grand scheme of things he was as small and insignificant as the bugs he liked to crush beneath his feet? Because that was all old news to him. Nature couldn't teach him shit about himself that he didn't already know.

Another sniffle escaped him and he scrubbed it and the wetness that had managed to escape onto his cheeks. It didn't really matter if he left it there, seeing as he was completely alone and nobody save himself would know he was upset by any of this horseshit. But still, he didn't want to cry. He wasn't a baby, for fuck's sake.

And when he got back to camp at one in the goddamn morning, he would go into his and Niel's tent, and he would sleep. And when the morning came and nobody bothered to ask him why he looked like shit, or where he'd been all day, he would act like that didn't bother him. When David and Gwen treated him exactly like they did every day, showing him that they hadn't bothered to notice his disappearance either, he would act like he always did, and they would be none the wiser.

"Max!"

At first he didn't even register the call, his heavy breathing and pounding in his head drowning out more than he'd thought. But then it came again.

"Max! Max, where are you?!"

David.

He sounded distressed as all hell and Max wanted to be amused by that, to laugh at him and make fun of his worry. But all his brain seemed capable of was short circuiting. Because that was David. David was calling for him, which meant David was looking for him, which meant that he'd noticed he was missing.

Someone had come for him. It didn't even matter right then that that someone was David.

"Oh Max… Max! Are you out here!"

He was running towards his voice before even realizing it. Or, he would have been if his legs hadn't decided that moment would be the opportune time to give out. The relief flooding his system had the adrenaline and panic wearing off, because fuck his life, and he leaned against the nearest tree so he didn't look completely pathetic when David found him.

"Over here!"

"Max?"

He couldn't help but roll his eyes, because who else would it be?

"No, it's bigfoot!"

"Oh, thank goodness!"

The sound of underbrush being crunched rapidly grew closer and louder and faint light became brighter, and Max felt a soft laugh bubbling up in his throat. Someone was coming for him. He didn't have to wander around in the dark on his own, or pretend he wasn't hurt or… or any of that.

"Max!"

He had exactly half a second to appreciate David's presence before his lanky arms were wrapping around him and aggravating every bruise on his body as they squeezed him almost painfully tight. Before he could even think about pushing him away Max heard sniffling that signalled David was crying… into his hair, where his face was currently buried. Great. Nice and disgusting.

"You scared the dickens out of me, Max! I thought we'd lost you," David was blubbering, "I'm so glad you're okay! You could have gotten hurt out here- don't ever scare me like that again! Augh, I'm so glad you're okay."

Okay was a relative term, and Max wanted to snap at him how it was bold to assume he hadn't been hurt- and didn't he have eyes to see that he was? Or was he blind as well as stupid? And why did he have to be so emotional all the time? It was making the whole thing weird and uncomfortable.

"Yeah, whatever," he mumbled from where his face was pressed against David's ascot/scarf/thing while maneuvering his arms between them to try and push the counselor away.

He was reminded then of his probably-sprained wrist and his muffled curse still managed to echo around them. It did the trick, at least, because David pulled away and- oh gross, his eyes were puffy and he had snot running and that's just not cool David. However, it also brought attention to the fact that something was wrong.

"Max? What's wrong?"

He opened his mouth to tell him that he was fine, and can we just get back to camp so we can pretend this never happened, but nothing came out and his felt his throat tightening. But fuck that, he refused to show any kind of emotional response that would encourage more hugging, so instead of trying to speak and tip the counselor off to his rattled state, he shrugged.

"Max, what happened?" He sounded worried and Max rolled his eyes.

Yeah, David, that's a great question. What did happen? He'd practically banned him from camp, yet he was surprised something went to shit? Honestly, every time Max thought the guy had reached pique dumbass he went and proved him wrong.

It frustrated him enough that he was able to swallow the lump in his throat. "Nature walks are the the dumbest fucking thing ever invented and if you ever try to make me go on one I will murder you."

David's face contorted and Max couldn't figure out if it was in concern or if he was trying to hold back a laugh. Knowing David, it was the former. Good. He should be worried. What kind of adult sends a kid into the woods for hours without a cell phone?

Well, never mind, actually. Campbell had been the one to teach him, after all, so that was probably a normal punishment.

"Don't worry," David finally said after the silence started hedging into awkward territory, "that's not going to happen."

When David stood up, Max followed him, trying to hide his limp as best he could. Of course, that didn't stop David from noticing and a second later he felt a hand on his shoulder to halt his movements.

"Hold up there, Max. You're hurt."

"No shit, Sherlock!" David looked wounded by the shout and Max wasn't done. He was wet and cold and in pain and it was all David's fault anyway. "That's what happens when you send someone who doesn't know shit about wilderness out into the wilderness! What'd you expect? That I'd run around and come back wanting to hump a tree?! That's your deal, not mine!"

He wasn't sure if it was his tree fucking comment or the general statement that had David cringing, but either way Max felt the slightest bit satisfied for making him feel bad about what had happened.

"I get it, Max. And you're right. I should have calmed down and talked with you instead of sending you out here. That was irresponsible and... I'm sorry." He sighed while his shoulders sagged in defeat. And yet, he sounded so calm and collected, it made Max wanted to punch him. It wasn't fair, how he could always keep his head after being made into an emotional punching bag. How he could be so rational and nice when he'd just been railed by an asshole kid? It made it really hard to enjoy yelling at him.

It also made him feel like the biggest douchebag in existence every single time David did it, so Max wasn't sure why he kept allowing them to get into positions where that sort of thing happened, but there they were again. David being all remorseful and Max feeling like shit even though he should have every right to keep being pissed of with the counselor.

Adults weren't supposed to be like that, though. They certainly weren't supposed to apologize. They were supposed to lecture you about why you were wrong and they were always right. David wasn't like that, though, no matter how many times he had his buttons pushed, and Max couldn't figure out what his deal was, which only made him feel worse every time he fucked up.

Apparently his silence was taken as rejection, because a second later, David was sighing sadly again and bending back down to be at eye level. Max didn't meet his gaze.

"Look, I get that you're mad, but the fact of the matter is that you are hurt. I don't want you walking all the way back to camp when we don't know how bad your leg is, okay? So… c'mon, get on."

Max did look up at him, then, blinking owlishly as David motioned towards his back.

Did he… was he seriously trying to give him a piggyback? Holy shit, that was weird.

But he knew David wasn't wrong: he couldn't walk all the way back to camp- or rather, he shouldn't. He was definitely capable of doing it. But… if David was offering…

He grabbed onto David's shoulders and let himself be hoisted up and held onto his neck like a lifeline even though his legs were securely held in place and he wasn't going anywhere. David looked at him from the corner of his eye and offered him a smile. Max huffed.

"I don't want this ever getting back to anyone."

He could feel David's chuckle against his chest and that was fucking weird. "Okay, Max."

"I'm serious," he warned while tightening his hold to choke David just the slightest bit, "If anyone finds out, I will end you and burn down this camp."

David laughed softly again and Max got the impression that his threats weren't being taken seriously despite the fact that they both knew he could do it. Still, the reply he got was enough to appease him.

"Your secret's safe with me."

For some reason those words in particular felt heavy, and Max decided not to think about how David was probably talking about more than this particular secret. No, of course he was doing the dumb "caring David" thing, where he wanted to remind him that it was totally safe to talk to him about anything.

Whatever, he wasn't going to tell him what happened. Nobody needed to know about that. Still, a small part of him did find it nice, that he knew he could trust David to not go spilling something if he told him not to.

As they made their way back, David said nothing, except to occasionally ask if he was doing alright. At some point, Max stopped answering. As the pounding in his head eased up and the warmth from David's back seeped in, the bumpiness of the walk became rhythmic and Max felt his eyes growing heavier with each passing second.

Yeah, nobody could find out about this. But he could let himself have it, if only for a few more minutes.