Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Maxwell-"

"Max."

"Max. Could you tell me who PJ is?"

"He's a boy, maybe 8 or 10 I'm not sure, he wears pjs, but that's not why his name is PJ. He has really dark hair and kinda spooky eyes with dark bags and he's super pale. Why?"

"Well, you are aware why you were brought here yes?"

"Yeah, because PJ isn't real and I'm 'insane' or whatever right?"

"You're not insane Maxwell-"

"Max."

"-you suffer from Schizophrenia and quite a few people have it, about 24 million people worldwide!"

"But he's real I swear, he's a ghost okay, i know it's crazy but it's true. The other things i can understand they don't make any sense and th- they're terrifying sometimes. But PJ is real, he's creepy and a scaredy cat with self esteem problems, there is no way he's, there's no way he doesn't exist."

The woman smiled and ran her hand over the child's arm. "Oh Max, I know he seems real but he's just-"

"Shut up."

"He's a figment of your imagination-"

"Shut up."

"I'll help you get through this, I can make PJ go away-"

"No! You can't take him away from me like that," Max's yelling quickly fell to a whisper at the end, "you cant."

He curled into the white couch, he could feel himself shaking but he couldn't stop it, all he could focus on was the dead boy who he had grown so fond of. The woman sighed, sitting straighter in her chair and grabbed the seven year old's hand, rubbing it lightly to reassure the child. she gave a small sincere smile.

"Okay, so PJ can stay for now alright? So for now why don't we focus on getting rid of those scary monsters first?"

Chapter Text

Five year.

Max had been in the stupid program for five whole year and hadn’t had any real success. He had been moved from therapist to therapist but none of them had helped, and the visits went from once a month to twice a week.

Three years ago his father to uproot their family and move to his, and his wife’s, home town. It wasn’t too big of a deal, but Max had been around ten so he had been pretty damn upset. But Zoey was too young to care, and half of the kids being cool with it was good enough for his dad.

After being moved to the town it came to Max’s attention that Mayview’s therapy system was a little off. For starters they only had one real clinic and it involved both physical and mental therapy. Second off Max was almost certain none of the people there were properly trained, but maybe he was just picky. He also realised that even if they were properly trained, they weren’t exactly prepared to cater to his very special needs.
It was rather obvious that his schizophrenia was something of a special case. He was told that it was more audio than visual, but he saw the apparitions more than he heard them. Sometimes he couldn’t identify them from real people, and that was what scared the rather unprepared clinic.

The idea of him being transferred to a mental hospital had come up a lot but his dad had adamantly refused. He didn’t like the idea of his son being so far away and his illness hadn’t really been severe enough to justify more than just a few overnight stays here and there. Since they didn’t seem to care about the norm, it didn’t really surprise Max when they would bring up the idea. But really as long as the “crazies” were kept to a minimum none of the officials gave a damn about the procedures used or how unorthodox they were.
And neither did Max. But he’d be lying if he said they asylum didn’t terrify him.

Max sat in the blue wallpapered lobby, eyes fluttering across the familiar posters of kittens on branches and beach scenes. To his left his dad and little sister Zoey were quietly, by their standards, playing slide. To his right PJ hovered above the seat, Lefty resting on his head.

PJ looked around nervously before turning to Max, his eyes impossibly large and blank.

“Mr.Max, do you know what’s going to happen today?”

Max shrugged lightly in response, trying to be inconspicuous so as not to freak anyone out by ‘talking to himself’.

“The latest therapist was a bust so they said they would try something new this time.” He paused in thought, “last time they said that i ended up with Mr. Starchman.”

The two shivered at the memory, his style of healing didn’t exactly connect with Max. That, and max’s fist might have connected with his face after the fifth session but that’s not important.

A man burst through the door, panting heavily and sweatier than a pig, he grabbed everyone’s attention easily. He was a rather average man, average height, hair a rather dull blond, average office clothes (white puffy shirt and brown slacks how original). Not to say he was unattractive, he was quite handsome actually, just not in an eye-catching kind of why. The man’s only really notable feature were his ugly sunglasses, which he wore inside Max noted as the man jogged to the receptionist desk.

“You’re late Rick.” The brunette scolded from behind her desk.

“Sorry Ms. Baxter.” The man said her name in a teasing tone, making the woman scowl, though it was obviously fake, as she was soon smiling again at the man.

Wierd, Max thought, Ms.Baxter is usually snappish with people who’re late, maybe they are…

Max shook his head and looked over at his family, to see them both looking over at the man in confusion, hands still held up in a double high five. Max laughed lightly at them and the two look over at him in surprise. He coughed to cover up his laugh and gazed back over at the strange man.

He was talking in hushed tones with Ms. B. The woman looked over at Max and gestured from him to come over.

Max first glanced at his family, to see them already standing and looking back and him expectantly, then over at PJ and Lefty. PJ grinned, which looked more painful than reassuring, but it’s the thought that counts.

He stood and caught Zoey’s concerned look, but he ignored it. He made his way to the desk and kept his gaze on Ms. Baxter, refusing to acknowledge the man until he had to.

“Yes Ms. Baxter?” He asked flatly, hands in his pockets. Ms. Baxter met his blank stare with a small smile, which caught Max off guard.

Ms. Baxter hadn’t smiled at him in almost two years, not since he almost hit her over the head with his bat. It had been an accident, alright? Max had been trying to save her from a red stringy creature that was about to bite her head off. But she just had to go with the whole psychotic rampage attempted homicide bit. Max ended up having to stay in the mental hospital for 72 hours but they released him because he was stable.
Well, stable enough for Mayview, which was just a notch below homicidal, but at least his dad didn’t try to sue or anything. Not that he could but damn would he try.

“Well, Maxwell-”

“Max.” Her smile tightened slightly and max’s smile widened in response. Thankfully she didn’t scream at him about respect, so that was a good sign. Huh, sunglasses must be quite the catch if she’s being this.. nice.

“Max, this is Mr. Spender, leader of your new support group.”

“Now Barbra, It’s not a support group per say, It’s more of a club for little baby loonies.” Ms Baxter looked taken aback by the man’s words, mouth hanging open in slight horror.
“Thanks.” Max muttered under his breath. Mr.Spender must have heard him because he started to panic and flail.
“Oh no, sorry, oh man. I meant, ah, well um. It was a joke- I didn’t mean to offend oh gosh.” He continued to apologize and Max felt a little bit of pity bubble up.
“Nah man its fine.” Max waved his hand in the air as if to shoo away the man’s comment. The blond man smiled at Max before his eyes moved to his family.

“Puckett?”

Suddenly the blond man and Max’s dad were yalling excitedly at each other.

Hugging.

They were also hugging.

“Wait, you’re a father?” Max made out at the two pulled apart.

“Yeah, this is my daughter Zoey and son Max, they’re nine and twelve respectively.” His dad laughed and Mr.Spender did too. Max scowled, they were far too loud and happy in his book. He was just about to interrupt but Mr.Spender beat him to it.

“So hows your high school sweetheart? i haven't seen her since the wedding, since you two up and left only a few days after. Why was that, trying to escape me huh?” As he laughed Max’s dad’s eyes cut to him for a second, his eyes giving a kind of warning. Max’s frown deepened in response and he opened his mouth to address the blond man.

“She’s dead.” Max said firmly, cutting off his dad before he could respond. His father turned to Max and forced a smile at him, taking Zoey by the hand.

“We have to Max, I hope we can catch up late Rick, it was nice to see you.” He said shortly, Max nodded and the two were out the door quick as lightning.

Mr.Spender looked panic stricken and flustered. “I-I’m so sorry, I- I didn’t know. Oh gosh this is a terrible first impression.” Max opened his mouth but was cut off by Ms. Baxter, who had been watching the exchange in silence.

“I think you two should go now, you’ve disturbed the peace enough.” Her voice was serious but not mean, like a mother scolding her children. Max looked around at the people in the waiting, their blank or disapproving stares making him uncomfortable.

They were all so serious, except for Jeff, a mentally and physically disabled boy. He was in a car crash a few years back and came to the clinic for physical therapy a few times a month. He would randomly burst into fits of giggles as his companion Cody tried to quiet him. Max smiled at the two whom he had made friends with early in his first year attending the clinic.

Mr.Spender pulled him out of his musings with a question. “Ready to meet the other kids?”

Max looked back at Ms.Baxter as he was lead down a hall with purple wallpaper. She was talking to a girl named Susie and was smiling. Beside him PJ floated along, eyes wide as ever, smiling in an almost comforting fashion.
“Yeah, alright.”

Chapter Text

Max followed behind the sunglasses wearing man. He lead him down a series of halls Max wasn’t very familiar with, though the art on said walls were about the same as everywhere else in the clinic. Pj, ever the worrywart, was glancing around nervously as if he expected the babies in flower costumes to try to jump him.
Max weaved past a couple of ghosts, probably old clinic patients who just got too attached to the place or something. He tried not to make it obvious, as it was a little embarrassing to be seen interacting with nothing. But, Spender looked back at him just in time to see him pushed up against the wall trying to stay out of the way of a large blue cow with a feathered hat.
Weird sunglasses man smiled at him in a weirdly understanding way that made Max want to follow the hat cow back to the lobby. He moved away from the wall just as Spender took in a breath and started talking, joy.
“So, tell me about yourself, Max.”
Max eyed the man suspiciously, what a freaking weirdo.
“Why? Haven’t you read my file already? You should know everything you need to already.”
Spender deflated a little, turning around and trudging down the hall, arms swinging like an angry toddler. “I left them at home in my rush to get here.” He muttered.
This place is ridiculous, how have they made it this long. Max thought angrily. He saw Spender’s profile as he went around corner, face distorted into a huge frown that warped his face weirdly. He looked just like his dad when he found out that they couldn’t sell mystic amulets in the corner store. Some random city law forbid it, he cried for like a whole hour.
“Well,” He started, Spender perking up in front of him excitedly. “I have schizophrenia, or at least that's what people assume it is. It’s a little confusing to explain, since it's a very extreme case and goes through all five senses. But i’m not dangerously off the handle, i just see and experience things that most people don't? i guess?”
Spender nodded, “I see, do you have any other disorders that i should know about?”
Max stopped for a second, staring down at the floor.
“No, nothing else.”
They stood in silence for a moment before Spender slowly nodded and continued walking, Max following silently.
“Sorry that i have to ask you outside of an office, but I really do need to know and i wouldn’t want to put you on the spot with the kids at the first meeting.”
“well, if we aren't talking about our situations, what are we doing in the first meeting?”
Spender paused. He spun around violently, pushing his glasses up, catching the light and smirking. “Group bonding.”
Oh my god, Max thought, He is such a loser.
Spender spun back around and turned another corner before stopping in front of a door covered in paint, stickers and maybe a little blood. Max thought about asking what that was about but honestly he probably didn’t want to know.
“Welcome,” Spender said suddenly and loudly, pausing after the outburst.
Is he… pausing for dramatic effect.
Oh my god, he totally is.
“To the “Activity Club” support group.” He pushed open the door.
And a tidal wave of paper flew out, completely covering Spender and knocking him to the ground. Max jumped back to avoid the tsunami.
“What the heck is going on!?” Max screeched. Spender clawed himself out of the pile of papers, glaring into the room at the two kids snickering into their hands.
The two kids were about Max’s age, the taller one was a darker skinned girl with hooded eyes, the shorter a blond boy with glasses. Behind them, laid out on an old couch, was a boy with spiky orange hair playing a DS. Spender made some unbecoming and annoyed noises as he pulled himself out of the papers, cursing about paper cuts.
“Isabel, Edward, i’m assuming this is your handy work?” He muttered, stomping through the doorway. Max followed behind apprehensively, keeping an eye out for any other nasty and unconventional surprises.
“Ha! You should have seen your face Spender!” The glasses kid exclaimed, laughing outright with the girl.
“Clean it up!” Spender huffed, moving to the unoccupied couch.
“Worth it.” The girl, Isabel, said to her friend, moving to the doorway full of printer paper.
“How did they do that?” Max muttered, sitting on the arm of one of the couches.
“You don’t want to know, it was basically witchcraft.” The red hair muttered back. He sat up from his slouched position, setting his DS aside. He held up a hand that Max hesitantly took in his own. “I’m Isaac, you must be the new kid in the group.”
“Yup, that’s me, names Max.”
“Nice to meet you Max.”
“Back at you, I guess.”
Max slid down from the arm of the coach to sit next to Isaac, watching the other two kids as they finished cleaning up the sea of papers.
The two mosied on over after setting the haphazardly stacked papers onto Spender’s desk, sitting down beside Spender on the couch.
Spender sat up a little straighter and clapped his hands together. “Alright kids, time to do a little meet and greet with our newest member.”
“Alright, newbie, I’m Isabel, queen of this here group. Mister weird hair over there is Isaac, but you already know that. But i bet you don't know that he’s the residential electrophile.”
“Don’t call me that Isabel, it sounds weird.”
“Alright electromaniac, whatever you fancy. He's obsessed with electricity, can’t get enough of it, he’s even had to be taken to the as-” She cut was cut off by a glare from Isaac. “Oops, sorry, over sharing.”
“Hey, i remember you, you're the kid who short circuited the whole clinic’s power line. You're the reason they had to put on those stupid child locks on all the outlets. You know how many times I've been stuck with nothing to do because they wouldn't unlock them so that I could charge my phone. Too freaking many times dude.”
“Whatever, I can’t help it. I was … born this way.” Isaac muttered, looking off into the distance all melodramatic as he opened up his bright pink DS to continue playing.
“Anyways, this is Ed,” Isabel wrapped her arm around the short blond boy. “He's my little buddy.” She ruffled his hair as he snorted.
“More like partner in crime.” Spender said good-naturedly. Isabel nodded, continuing to ruffle the boy’s hair more and more aggressively.
“Spender, my DS is gonna die, can I charge it?” Isaac asked, trying to look innocent, but Spender shook his head sternly.
“No way am i falling for that again, you can do it at home with parental supervision.” Isaac groaned and slumped into the couch.
“His DS charge is fine.” Came a small, young voice from beside Max. “The light is green.”
Max moved his glance from PJ to the DS in Isaac’s hand. The light in the corner was green. He shrugged it off, eyes shifting to look over at the three people sat on the couch across from him.
“If Isaac is here for Electromania what are you two here for?” Max asked.
Isabel scooted off of Ed, whom she had in a choke hold.
“I’m in for anger management and Cynophobia.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, i get angry easily so people tell me ‘don’t do that’ and-”
“No, Cynophobia.” Isabel rolled her eyes and smiled.
“I know, it’s the fear of dogs.”
Max nodded, “gotcha.” He turned his eyes to Ed.
Ed smiled, “I’m like the mascot.”
“He started coming here for his autism, for social skills and such. Edward here doesn't really have to go to therapy as often as he does, but him and Isabel are quite close so he goes when she goes.” Mr. Spender explained. He looked a little miffed about having their reason for attending group therapy come up so fast, but at least they were getting along.
Pj shuffled beside Max, lefty drumming softly on the sofa. Max turned to them and whispered, “You don't have to stay if you don’t want to.”
Pj smiled at Max and nodded his head, he always got a little antsy when he couldn’t get involved in the conversation. Max watched as the two ghosts floated out the closed door, jumping a little when a voice broke him from his reserved moment
“So what are you in for?” Isaac asked, trying to seem uninterested, but his eyes flashed excitedly over the top of his DS. Spender sent Max a look that said you-don’t-have-to-answer-yet-if-you-don’t-want-to. Max shrugged at Spender and turned to Isaac.
“I have schizophrenia.”
“Freaking called it, who were you talking to just now?” Ed butted in.
Max’s face heated up a little at the thought of being caught talking to “nothing”.
“Don’t worry about … it…” His voice trailed off as he noticed a figure in the corner of his eye. He turned to look but it was gone in a blink, but the silhouette was terrifyingly familiar. A large snake with 3 long slits on its face had been coiled up in the shadow of Spender’s desk. Max shivered at the memory of it’s eyes peaking out at him, blood red this time.
He shook his head and focused back on the support group in front of him, which was currently yelling over what was cooler; motorcycles or jet skis. Max threw in his suggestion that jet packs were cooler and thought maybe this’ll be a good fit for him.