No spoilers
The crowd roars behind him, a mix of shouts and cheering. He's pressed close to the man that towers over him, all sinewy muscle and toothy smiles. Everything was going perfect, he had gained the upper hand on his opponents without them knowing. Their skepticism about his legitimacy after the dance he had performed worked to his advantage, they'd never see him coming. He almost misses the controls in his hands, but the sight of Charlie coming alive, mind racing and commands flowing, is enough of a prize. The crowd is a myriad of smells and sights, and Max joins in the cheering, boasting as Atom lands a devastating blow that leaves their opponent staggering. Charlie covers the mic for a moment, turning to his son and updating him about the fight, insight tidbits he never would have figured out himself. Hands up and throat straining to keep up with his cheering, Max yells louder as the bot goes down, another win under their belt. Strong arms envelope him, hoist him up above the roaring audience and he smiles wider.
The celebration is short and sweet as they make way for the other matches. Atom follows behind them, diligent and watchful and Max is pumped full of adrenaline. Mouth going a mile a minute as he describes and re-enacts the high points of the match, Charlie smiling all the while. Back in the truck they decide, well, Max mercilessly insists they go get ice cream. He can't say no to that face, all young energy and cute dimples.
The dinner they take refuge in is quiet, nearly empty and they sit across from each other, Max significantly shorter in the worn seat of the booth. It amuses Charlie, but he knows if he points it out he'll just get a snarky comment back.
"What'll you boys have?"
Their waitress is tall, tired looking with frizzy hair and bags under eyes. She manages a smile but it's half assed at best.
"Two ice cream sundaes."
"Whip cream? Nuts?"
"Whip cream and cherries," Max is quick to order.
Charlie smiles as his son gets a little more fidget, he nods to the woman and she smiles again before leaving.
"Where are we going after this?"
"Well, I figure we been out in the country long enough, probably head back to the big cities."
They converse for awhile, talking plans, Charlie giving pointers about the finer aspects of boxing and Max listening intently, hanging off his every word. When the ice cream finally arrives Max digs in with a smile, Charlie takes a less messier approach.
Max savors the treat, every bite is like eating pure bliss and the mound of whip cream that had been resting peacefully on top was now flecked around his mouth. It didn't matter, they were on cloud nine and nothing could go wrong in his eyes. The prospect of returning to the big city settles in his chest and made for an all encompassing wiggle in his body. It made all the bad things from the start of summer seem so distant and practically non-existent. Through his eleven year old eyes, Charlie was the best father he could ever have.
By the time they reach the hotel Max is asleep, face pressed against the window and arms crossed around himself. Charlie couldn't help chuckling to himself as he hefted the boy up into his arms, more nights then he could remember he had done this. It's warm inside the motel room and he feels sleep tug at his own body, the sugar already dissipated from his system and the comfy beds calling quietly. Tugging the boy's shoes off he toes off his own and flicks the light off. The sliver of moonlight through the drawn curtains is enough for him to make out the single bed.
He tucks the kid in first before tossing his jacket somewhere in the room and unceremoniously crawling under the blankets. When he's still and the room is quiet Max cuddles up beside him, warm and snoring softly, the day had been good.