Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Good morning, campers!” David chirped, not allowing the predictable lack of response to dampen his chipper mood. “Today, I have something super special planned, so I’d love if everyone would listen up!”

That got a little attention, but Max, the one camper he needed to hear him, didn’t look up from his breakfast.

“A surprise?” Nikki asked, bouncing in her seat. “Is it candy? Or a pony? Or dynamite? Or—”

“—Why don’t I just tell you what it is,” David cut her off lightly. “The surprise is that I’ll be taking one lucky camper on a hiking trip!”

Neil rolled his eyes. “We go camping all the time,” he pointed out. “That’s not special.”

“Unless we’re hiking to our new pony!”

“Yeah, David, where’s the pony?” Nurf demanded.

“This trip is special because it’s a tradition,” David explained. “It’s the trip that turned me into the happy, excited camp counselor I am today!”

Now, Max looked up, apparently listening more than he’d been letting on. “So it’s a hike to the hospital for a lobotomy?”

David shook one finger at him scoldingly. “No,” he corrected, “it’s a hike through the woods around Lake Lilac! The exciting part is—wait for it,” he reveled in a dramatic pause that had only Nikki, Preston, and Space Kid drawn in, “there’s no technology allowed!”

Disappointed mutterings filled the mess hall, but David ignored them.

“So, who, you’re asking, is the lucky camper that gets to go on this amazing, once in a lifetime hike?”

“Please don’t say Max; please don’t say Max,” Max muttered under his breath.

“It’s our very own Max!”

“Nope,” he replied, abandoning his tray, save for an apple that he took with him, and heading toward the exit of the mess hall. David was quick to block the doors.

“Not so fast!” he said cheerfully. “You’re coming on this hike whether you like it or not. And you’ll love it!”

“I’m not going,” Max denied.

“That’s how I felt, too, when I was your age,” David reminisced. “But this is the moment that changed everything for me! I can’t wait to watch this turn you into a gun-ho, full-speed-ahead Camp Campbell camper, just like it did for me!”

“It’s not happening,” Max reiterated. “It’s stupid and I’m not going.”

“Oh, yes you are,” Gwen interjected. “David has to take one of the campers on this hike, and I already told him that the only way he’s leaving me alone to manage the camp is if you’re not here to cause trouble.”

Ouch, David thought. She didn’t have to be so harsh on the kid all the time. Though he’d never show it, David could tell that stung Max a little. As much as he wanted everyone to think otherwise, especially her, Max liked Gwen and wanted her to like him, too. David was able to see that she did, but Max, just a kid, might not be.

“It’ll be fun, Max! I promise.”

Max didn’t argue, though David wasn’t so naive to think that was a good thing. He’d just have to prove it to him.

The first mistake he made was that David spent most of the night before their hiking trip preparing instead of sleeping. He stayed up late making sure that he’d packed Max’s favorite kind of sandwiches, that he had the maps and directions memorized so they wouldn’t get too lost, that they were prepared for any kind of weather. By the time he was finally ready to turn in and get some sleep, he’d only left himself about three hours to sleep, which he knew wasn’t good the night before a big, energetically taxing event, but he didn’t mind. All that mattered was making sure that Max had a good time and was ready to find himself in nature. David was going to make sure that much happened, at least.

The second mistake was choosing not to reschedule the hike when he noticed the dark storm clouds overhead, reassuring himself that it would just be more of a challenge and the more he challenged Max, the more satisfaction he’d get from overcoming it. The kid needed to find himself, after all. David saw a lot of his younger self in Max, and the opportunity to give him a little more confidence so he didn’t have to hide behind that hard shell of indifference was one he wasn’t willing to delay. God knows that Max craved stability, for someone to care enough to keep their promises.

The third and most costly mistake that David made was ignoring the pounding headache and sore throat that he woke up with, shivering and in a pool of sweat, the morning that they were supposed to get going. Instead of telling Max that they’d have to do it another day so he’d have a chance to rest, or going to Gwen and getting something for the fever he was pretty sure he was starting to run, or really doing anything at all about the unfortunate scenario, he simply pulled his clothes on, adding an extra layer for warmth, and headed to the mess for breakfast.

“Morning, Gwen!” he greeted, trying for his normal energy but feeling it falling flat.

Gwen eyed him for a moment before pushing her mug of coffee toward him. He wasn’t sure if that was because she could tell he wasn’t feeling well or not, but if she could, she didn’t mention it.

“It’s too early,” she baited, waiting for him to latch onto a statement that he’d normally reject. He could spot that trick from a mile away.

“It just seems that way because the sun is behind the clouds,” he dismissed, pausing to muffle a too-deep cough into the sleeve of his cardigan.

She gave him a scrutinizing look as he sipped his coffee and he almost sighed. So that was a test, too, he realized.

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

David shrugged. “Enough,” he dodged. When her glare didn’t lessen, he shifted. “Excitement for the hike will be more than enough to keep me going, anyway!”

“That’s bullshit,” Gwen disagreed. “Besides, you look like hell. Either you were up all night, or you’re getting sick, and I’m actually willing to bet that it’s both, ‘cause I can hear you breathing from here.”

David coughed a few times in an attempt to alleviate the wheeziness in his lungs but only ended up exemplifying it. When Gwen looked like she’d won, David brushed her off with a dismissive hand gesture.

“It’s barely even a cold,” he reassured. “I’m still taking Max on the hike.”

“No.”

“But—”

“—’But’ nothing, David; don’t be an idiot! It’s going to rain all day, and if Max senses even the slightest amount of weakness from you, he’ll literally eat your heart. If you’ve got to do it, go another day.”

“I already told Max that there’s no rain checks, no way no how. What kind of example am I setting if I go back on my word?”

“The kind that doesn’t get both of you killed in the forest?”

“Max!” David exclaimed as Max pushed grumpily through the doors of the mess hall, ignoring Gwen as if she hadn’t spoken. “Are you ready for the best day ever?”

Max opened his mouth but shut it again when David’s enthusiasm was cut off by a rough cough that he tried and failed to control.

“Seriously?” he asked, looking more at Gwen than at David. “The weather is shit, and you sound like death. Even you’re not stupid enough to go hiking like this.”

“Apparently he is,” Gwen interjected.

“I packed our lunches,” David barrelled through, “and I’ve got our raincoats and the backpack right here.” He crossed the cafeteria to the door and motioned for Max to crouch beside him. In a messy pile, one which was uncharacteristically haphazard for David, lay all the things that they could possibly need. He opened the larger backpack and began to pull things out one by one.

“This is a compass,” David said as he held one up, and Max rolled his eyes.

“I know what a compass is, asshole,” he quipped, but David was unphased.

“You have to use it with a map,” he continued. “You line it up with the compass rose; that’s how you know where to go.”

Max wasn’t listening. Instead, he was leafing through the rest of the supplies in the large backpack, pulling out things like water bottles, tarps, tents, matches, flashlights, and a first aid kit.

“Won’t this weigh, like, 50 pounds?” he asked, trying and failing to lift the backpack on his own. David simply chuckled and ruffled his hair.

“Don’t worry about that,” he reassured. “Yours is much lighter.” Max looked for a moment like he was dreading picking up his own, but when he did, he nearly threw it across the room as he overestimated how much it would weigh. Unbuckling the flap, Max opened the backpack and peered inside to see what David had made him carry: the sandwiches, some trail mix, a small booklet about wilderness survival, and a pair of binoculars.

“This is a stupid idea, David,” Gwen called from across the room as David shrugged into his backpack and staggered for a moment under its weight.

“We’ll be back before breakfast tomorrow; I promise,” David replied, his raspy voice barely audible from her place at the table. She bit down on her nails, knowing that this could only go very poorly as her cocounselor walked woozily out into the light rain with the camper who was least likely to care if anything happened to him.

Two and a half hours later, the rain had brought the temperature down by several degrees, enough that Max was beginning to feel chilly even under his raincoat and hoodie.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I want to go back to camp,” Max complained, not for the first time since they’d started walking. His feet were cold and aching, he was damp, and most of all, he was bored. He’d prepared for David to talk his ear off by pointing out every little bird and tree and rock along the dirt trail, but the reality was the opposite: David had barely said a word since they’d left the camp.

“You know, this isn’t changing my mind,” he said, hoping that perhaps he could get David riled up enough to argue with him because at least that might kill some time. “This sucks. It’s only making me hate this place more.”

The only reply was David coughing a few more times into his elbow, something that was becoming a near-constant, background noise. Max had been willing to accept, at first, that he just had a cold or something, and therefore hadn’t been too worried about it. He and all the other kids he knew went to school with little colds all the time, and they were always fine. However, if that was all that was up with David, it sure was draining his energy, because he was silent and sluggish. Even at the less-than-eager pace with which Max was pressing forward, David was unable to keep up.

“So, where the hell are we going, anyway?” Max asked. He’d been asked to hold the map and compass, but David hadn’t really given him much of an objective, so they’d been wandering for a while.

“Wherever you lead,” David replied, and when he did, Max was surprised enough at the tone of his voice to stop dead in his tracks. He was breathing hard and fast, not to mention that despite his silence, his voice was practically gone. David cleared his throat a few times, then began coughing again. When he finished, he looked back up at Max with a forced smile on his pale face.

“You’re in charge; that’s what this whole thing is about!” he managed quietly but with an almost convincing amount of fake cheer.

“Then why can’t I choose to go back to the camp?”

“Oh, Max, don’t be like that,” he chastised. However, the complaints finally gave him pause. “You’re not really having that bad a time, are you?”

Max rolled his eyes. “Does it matter? Neither of us want to be out here, so what are we doing?”

David looked aghast. “Of course I want to be out here!” he argued. “Why would you think I don’t?”

Max didn’t even want to dignify that with a response. If David was really going to be that stubborn, it wasn’t Max’s job to convince him otherwise. He’d let him stay delusional as long as he wanted, so long as they got out of here in one piece.

With no technology and no sun, Max was left to try to measure the time of day based on his stomach. At what felt like noon, Max’s stomach began to growl just as they entered a clearing by the lake.

“I think we should take a break,” he announced, “and eat lunch.” He half expected David to object, or worse, tell him that it was still only 9:00 a.m., but he didn’t: instead, he nodded, following Max to a tree stump and setting the backpack heavily down on top of it to fish around for a tarp, which he unrolled on the ground so they could have a dry place to eat. Max sat down on it and took off his own backpack, unpacking two of the sandwiches and some trail mix for lunch. One glance over at David revealed that he’d leaned his back up against the tree stump and had closed his eyes, so Max decided to go through his backpack, too, for the water bottles. He dropped a sandwich and a bottle into David’s lap, which startled him awake a bit violently. His face went even more pale, if that were possible, at the sight of the food, which he pushed away gently.

“I’m still full from breakfast,” he lied, or at least Max was pretty sure it was a lie. He hadn’t eaten while Max had gotten breakfast, and he was willing to bet that he hadn’t had anything before that, either. Even more disconcertingly, David acctually closed his eyes once more, crossing his arms in a way that brought Max’s attention to the fact that he was shivering and letting his head fall forward to rest against his chest. “I’m actually going to take a quick nap,” David said. “I got to bed pretty late last night, and I want to make sure I have the energy to—”

“—Yeah, yeah; whatever,” Max curtailed. “Sleep as long as you want.”

“If I’m not up in 20 minutes, you can wake me,” he instructed.

Max didn’t really know what he was supposed to make of that. Clearly, there was something wrong with David. Maybe he was just exhausted and a little under the weather, like he was insisting upon, but something didn’t feel right about that explanation. The thing about David was that he bounced back. He could get hit by a bus and stand back up like nothing happened; he could spend all night staring at the ceiling, too excited to sleep, and it never seemed to make a dent in his energy levels. He cried a lot, sure, but he was more durable than anyone really gave him credit for, and Max, ever-perceptive, knew that.

For that reason, he decided that he wouldn’t wake David until he woke up naturally by himself. If the guy needed sleep that badly, Max should let him get it. Besides, it wasn’t as if he had anywhere he really wanted to get to. He still hadn’t picked a destination, wasn’t even sure how far into the forest they were supposed to go before cutting their losses, heading back, and admitting that a little nature walk wasn’t enough to uncoil the damages that Max had woven so tightly into every part of his personality.

Why was David trying so hard, anyway? Was it really the end of the world to him if Max came away from Camp Campbell just as cynical this year as every other?

He watched David rest because he had nothing more interesting to stare at and definitely not because he was starting to worry about him. The longer he looked, the more apparent it became that Max had never seen him like this: not just his behavior, but the paleness of his face, the hand that clutched his chest as if it hurt just to breathe, the dark circles under his eyes.

He had to admit, it was starting to freak him out. What if David was really sick? It would be just like him to drag himself through camp activities, anyway.

Max forced that thought out of his head. Even David couldn’t be stupid enough to strand them in the middle of nowhere with no cell phones and a seemingly worstening illness, right?

After half an hour of resting, David woke up by himself and helped Max pack the makeshift picnicsite back up and put it away.

An hour later, he began to stumble every so often over what he said were tree roots and rocks, but Max was convinced it was his own feet.

Two hours after that, he cut his palm open on a tree branch. Max watched as he disinfected it with shaking hands, then lost patience and wrenched David’s hand toward him, ignoring the wince it elicited, to bandage it himself. It was worryingly hot and clammy despite the cold rian, but he didn’t say a word since this was already more care than he wanted to show David and to point out that he was pretty sure the counselor was running a fever would just tip the scales into full-blown concern.

An hour and a half after the cut, David muttered something about having to pee, staggered away behind some bushes, and threw up what little water Max had managed to scare him into drinking under threatening glares.

Still, so long as David seemed capable of pressing forward, Max was willing to let things slide.

Until he wasn’t.

The sun was just beginning to set when David collapsed. He’d been yards feet behind Max, dragging his feet rather than fully picking them up, and had barely even made a sound when he hit the ground. Max turned around to see that he’d caught himself on his hands and knees, but his arms were wavering like they wouldn’t hold him up for long and the backpack was definitely heavy enough to crack his ribs if he fell forward.

“David!” Max exclaimed, unable to keep the panic from his tone. In a heartbeat, Max was by his side, pushing him up by the shoulders to keep him from being crushed beneath their supplies. He managed to push David backward onto his ass, where his eyes fluttered dangerously, but he appeared to remain conscious.

“Sorry, just a second,” David mumbled, his words slurring a bit. His teeth were chattering.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

David shook his head. “Nothing to worry about, Max,” he reassured. “M’just a little tired.”

Normally, Max would have challenged that with a shouting match, but David didn’t seem quite coherent enough for that. Drawing on all the anger management bullshit he’d been forced through with the fifth-grade counselor when he’d acted out in school, Max took a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, before speaking.

“Okay,” he said through gritted teeth. “Then we’re gonna have to set up camp here, right?”

David nodded. He moved to begin assembling the tent, but Max smacked his hands away none too gently.

“You—you just sit there and don’t touch anything,” he snapped. “If you pass out on me, I’m leaving you here.” It was still a bit of a fight to wrestle the supplies away from David, who was the adult and clearly wanted to be doing the adult parts of the hiking trip, things like making sure they had food and water and shelter and weren’t going to die here in the forest, but there was no way that Max could let him attempt that in the state he was in. He ran a hand nervously throuhg his hair.

“Okay,” he mumbled to himself, “okay. First thing is—shelter. Pitch the tent in a safe place.” They wanted to be near enough a water source that they could get some if they needed it, but far enough away that they wouldn’t be right in the path of animals getting food and drink. Max had seen a river about ten minutes ago, so he figured that was good enough. They didn’t appear to be near any caves or cliffs or under any rocks that might fall. Max unrolled one of the tarps over the wet grass, then spent ten minutes muttering profanities as he assembled the tent. When he took a step away from it, he sighed and smacked his forehead with a small, flat palm: it barely even looked like it would stay up through the night, not to mention providing them any shelter.

However, when David finally got the wherewithal to look up at it, his eyes filled with tears.

“It looks beautiful, Max,” he said, and even though Max knew he was lying, he had to bite down on the proud smile that threatened to show itself on his face.

A loud clap of thunder wiped away that ghost of a smile immediately.

“Get inside, you dumbass,” he demanded, helping David unsteadily to his feet and walking him all the way to the tent before helping him lie down inside. He made a second trip to haul the heavy backpack inside and couldn’t help but wonder how David had carried it around all day in his state.

As David’s eyes closed, Max slapped his cheek once, hard.

“Not yet, asshole,” he said. He shoved a water bottle at him, then took it back and unscrewed the cap when David struggled to do so. “Drink it. At least half.”

David managed maybe a fourth before pushing the bottle away looking a little green in the face and Max had no choice but to accept that—better to have him hold down a little water than throw up a bunch of it.

When David laid back down, Max realized just how cold it had gotten now that night had fallen. He couldn’t build a fire with rain like this, and the two thin blankets that they’d packed, he’d placed over David to try to stop him shivering.

As if reading his mind, David lifted the corner of the blanket and scooted to the side. Max hesitated. He didn’t want to be that close to the counselor, not by a long shot, but it seemed as if it was going to be his only option.

He compromised. Not feeling tired enough to sleep, yet, Max crawled next to David and tucked the blankets around himself while still sitting up. Taking advantage of his twilight consciousness, Max reached out a hand and pressed it to David’s forehead, finding an amount of heat that surprised him even despite that he was expecting a fever.

“Fuck, David,” Max whispered. “You couldn’t have snuck an emergency phone out here or something?”

This sucked. He was the last canper who should be out here with a seriously ill person. Max hadn’t listened to a single word that David had tried to teach him all summer about survival or first aid or the woods. Suddenly, he wanted Gwen. He wanted Nikki and Neil. More than anything, he wanted David, the David who always fixed everything no matter how badly it got messed up and never thought any less of him no matter how apathetic and unprepared he was.

They just had to make it through the night. By lunch tomorrow, someone would come looking for them. He just had to keep them both alive until then.

Chapter Text

For being as exhausted as he was, David slept fitfully. Max had expected him to sleep like a rock, considering how difficult it had been just to keep him awake long enough to drink a little water, but it seemed as though Max woke every hour or so to David squirming through a fever-induced nightmare or to kick blankets off his overheated body as he fluctuated wildly between hot and cold. At least, he tried to count his blessings, David seemed to be tolerating the water this time. 

He put it off as long as he could, feeling more sure with each passing second that the sun would be rising any minute, but after the adrenaline from the hike wore off, Max began to feel cold to the point of discomfort. Paired with the fact that David’s teeth were chattering so hard in his sleep that Max was afraid he’d chip one, he realized with dread that he was going to have no choice but to build a fire. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, looking to David and knowing that he wasn’t well enough to help him but finding himself for the first time ever craving one of his annoying lectures that he normally did his best to tune out. 

Max dug through his backpack for the wilderness survival book and leafed through the pages until he came upon the chapter about starting and maintaining a fire. It had been raining all day, but the book said that didn’t necessarily mean that he couldn’t have a fire—it would just be more difficult than he’d like. But what about this wasn’t?

He searched around for a dying tree, one which had lost both branches and leaves, and dug through the brush, careful to avoid the slugs and spiders, for some logs and leaves dry enough to start a fire. It took a few trips with his small, tired arms, but eventually, he gathered enough material for a small pile, which he enclosed within a circle of rocks before sitting back down to read on in the chapter. 

He was lucky that David didn’t consider matches to be too technical to bring because if he’d had to rub two sticks together for a spark, he might have given up before he even started. 

Once it was lit and stable enough to leave unattended, Max climbed back into the tent and shook David roughly by the shoulder. 

“It’s time to get up now, Camp Man,” he called with nowhere near his normal level of condescension, bordering on softly. David didn’t so much as stir, and Max frowned. “Hey,” he tried a second time, louder now. “Wake up. I’m not dragging your ass all the way out there.” Just as he began to wonder whether he should check David’s pulse, he cracked one eye open groggily. “David,” Max scolded before sleep inertia could take him back under, “I mean it. Get up.” 

David groaned. “A few more minutes,” he grumbled, but Max wasn’t having any of it. 

“You can go back to sleep in a minute,” he reassured irritably. He tried to take the blanket as an incentive to get his ass moving, but David clutched it tightly. 

“Cold,” he whined. 

“No shit,” Max rolled his eyes. “That’s why I built a fire.” David’s eyes snapped open, but not in a pleasant way. 

“Fire?”

“Relax,” Max hushed. “I didn’t use gasoline this time. I followed your stupid book rules. It’s controlled and probably so small that it probably won’t last, so get moving.” Visibly, David weighed the discomfort and effort of moving with the gratification of warmth, and luckily, he ultimately decided, whether it was for himself or to calm the worried look in Max’s eyes, that it was worth it and slowly, sluggishly, began to pull himself up. As soon as he was in a seated position, he blinked long and slow, one hand moving to clutch his forehead as his breath caught, first in discomfort and then in another fit of harsh coughing. It still sounded deep in his lungs, like he was choking on fluid that he simply couldn’t expel, and it made Max wonder if he could even possibly breathe sounding like that. David, however, was only momentarily deterred, as he forced himself to follow Max out of the tent and sit by the fire. It reflected brightly in his feverish, green eyes, and the weak smile that spread across his face was not forced. 

“You did a good job,” he rasped breathlessly. 

“Yeah, well,” he muttered. “It’s barely anything. Not even putting off any heat, really.” David opened his blanket for Max to scoot closer, in response to which he shook his head vehemently. “No fucking way am I getting that close to you. I’d rather freeze to death.”

A sad look passed over David’s face, unable to conceal it, and he nodded, slipping one blanket off his shoulders and handing it to Max. 

“Don’t argue,” he said firmly but kindly. “Can’t have you catching something, too.”

Max nodded, taking the blanket. 

“So, what’s even wrong with you?” he asked. David shrugged, and Max believed that he probably DIDN’T have any real idea. Though he’d clearly been peaky in the morning, this fever had come on so fast. One minute, he was hiking through the forest, and all of a sudden, he was too weak to move at all. 

“Nothing that won’t pass,” David managed through chattering teeth. “It’ll be okay.”

Max could cry. “That’s just something adults say when they don’t want kids to find out that it’s a shit show.” David was silent. “But you’re not exactly bursting my bubble by telling me that, so you might as well just say it.”

“I won’t, because it’s not true.” 

“Yes, it is!” Max snapped. “We’re lost in the forest with nothing to eat, barely any water, and no way to call for help.”

“That’s what camping is, Max.”

“Whatever! You’re sick and loopy and useless! I can’t do anything! I told you this was a shitty idea, and now we’re gonna die out here.” 

David shifted to look him dead in the eyes. “Listen to me, Max. No one is dying out here. Not again. 

The next time Max woke up, it was to David bolting away from under the blanket and toward the bushes to be sick again. At this point, Max didn’t know what else he could possibly have left in him—he’d slept while Max had eaten his sandwich and had turned green at the sight of the plain cereal that Max had picked out of the trail mix and tried to feed him. 

He gave David his privacy. Only once had Max ever been ill publically—in the school library after his mom had sent him to school with the stomach flu because she hadn’t had the time to stay home from work—and he’d wanted to die, so although he was confident that David wouldn’t remember this later, anyway, he decided to leave him alone. 

When he’d finished, he stumbled back to the campsite and collapsed, face down, into the unforgiving dirt. The fire was out, so there was no real reason to stay outside the tent, but Max wasn’t so sure he’d make it back inside without passing out again. 

“David,” Max called. “You need water.” Badly, his mind added. David mustered up the strength to nod, so Max reached for the canteen and handed it to him. He struggled to take it with shaking hands, tried twice unsuccessfully to bring it to his lips, then fumbled with it hard enough to drop it on the ground. His expression barely changed even as Max shouted and lunged forward in a futile attempt to catch it, but of course, it clattered to the ground and spilled what little water they had. 

Max took a sharp breath through his nose, one he would normally use to berate David. David braced himself. Max exhaled through his mouth. Repeated that. Something that his school counselor (and, surprisingly, Nurf) had told him to do before he insulted someone. He’d never done it before: because why would he? The people he yelled at deserved what they got for being stupid. 

Except David wasn’t being stupid. He was trying his best, trying to do something nice for Max, the most troubled kid at camp. He was doing the job he was paid probably way too little to do and trying to do it well. And yet Max was still angry. He was possibly angrier than he’d ever felt, and at someone who was ill and barely conscious. 

Huh. Maybe there was something to what his counselor had said about lashing out because he felt scared and alone. 

The wind howled through the trees. 

Whatever was lurking in the brush rustled quietly in search of bugs for dinner. 

David’s eyes were shut. 

And Max was functionally, painfully, alone. 

He reached out, feeling guilty when David flinched, and pressed his palm against his forehead, feeling panic well up inside him.

“You’re fucking boiling, David,” he said softly, sadly. “You’re gonna dehydrate.”

David paled. “Spilled…” he trailed off weakly, sounding more disoriented than Max was comfortable with. 

“That’s why I’m gonna go get us some more.” 

It spoke to just how out of it David was that he didn’t even try to argue. His eyes fluttered shut again, and based on his waning coherency, the red flush to his sweatless face, and the fact that Max’s hand was still tingling with the temperature difference, he guessed that David’s fever was, like, brain-meltingly high. 

He didn’t want to go into the forest alone, but because he had to, he picked up his backpack, the canteen, and his compass and headed into the darkness. 

Max wandered. He tried not to, did his best to keep in a straight line, but despite acting like he was an expert in using compasses to David earlier that morning, once he actually had to keep it lined up with the map, he was struggling. How was he expected to watch the compass and the map and his surroundings at the same time when he’d never done anything more than look down at his own feet during hikes like these?

He racked his brain for anything helpful that David might have told him. Mostly, what he remembered were his own sarcastic remarks rather than the given advice, which made him feel retroactively like a bit of an ass. What would have happened if he’d gotten lost out here during one of his pranks? During an attempt to escape Camp Campbell? Looking for Neil or Nikki? Suddenly, all the times he’d wandered into the forest and was pulled out and scolded by David felt like near-misses rather than annoyances. 

“Never collect from small pools of stagnant water,” David’s voice echoed in his head. “They could be contaminated.” Though the rain had made the ground wet and he could easily fill the canteen from any of the several puddles around, he forced himself o resist the urge and kept walking. 

“Water from upstream has a better chance of being clean than downstream,” he heard, a memory from the day they’d hiked to the girls’ camp to return a laptop that Gwen had borrowed and been too lazy to give back.

“Use your senses,” a piece fo advice that Max had definitely mocked as obvious but, in his panic to find resources, had overlooked. “You might be able to hear the sound of running water, even if it’s far away.” Max stood perfectly still and tried to tune everything else out. 

Bingo.

A babbling sound, probably the small waterfall from where the river flowed into the lake, was what he focused on and headed toward. Just like the book had told him to do, he marked his route on his map so he could follow it later and headed toward what he hoped was water. 

He was right. 

He filled the canteen with water, placed in one of the iodine tablets from the backpack to sterilize it as best he could, and turned around to discover that he was completely and utterly lost.

Chapter Text

Max looked out into the forest with no idea where to even begin walking back. What direction had he come from? How was he supposed to retrace his steps backwards? He wanted a GPS. He wanted David. If David were here, he’d show him how to line the compass up just so with the map to find his way forward. Were Max to ignore his advice and refuse, as usual, he’d simply do it himself, call it a demonstration. One thing was for sure, he’d be looking out for Max. And now he has to return the favor. 

He points himself in the direction of his footsteps on the muddy riverbank and tries his hardest to remember what turns he’d made. He’d gone south, so he now had to go north. Turned east, so now west. Then… at an angle? Between south and east? How was he supposed to calculate that out?

Just when he was ready to give up, there was a rustling in the forest. Max’s heart skipped a beat and he shrunk down low. His eyes dilated with pure, blood-chilling fear. Whatever it was, it sounded big. Much bigger than a squirrel or a raccoon. If he were lucky, it’d be a deer. Unlucky, a bear. And today had not, thus far, been lucky. He searched for a bush to hide in but there was none, no rock to duck behind. He dove behind a nearby tree, but he knew it didn’t cover his whole body. He was visible. A potential target. Something was about to eat him. 

Then, David stumbled into the clearing, pale-faced and sweating. His eyes were frantically searching for something. He put his hands on his knees in a fruitness attempt to catch his breath. 

“Max?” he called as loudly as he could.

“David,” he replied, rushing forward just as David’s knees gave out and sent him falling hard into the dirt. Max winced. “What the hell are you doing out here?” 

“You were gone,” he said, as if it were obvious. “I had to come find you.”

“Do you remember which way you came?”

David pointed vaguely. That was good enough, he supposed, or at least the best he was going to get out of his nearly-delirious camp counselor. Max dragged him to his feet by his wrists and watched helplessly as he wavered, threatening to fall right back down. But he didn’t. He remained on his feet and followed as Max tugged him along by the hand. Luckily, he hadn’t made it that far. In fact, Max had been pretty close to finding their campsite on his own. He probably could have done it even if David hadn’t stupidly pursued him. As soon as he could see the tent, David collapsed against a tree. Max winced at the force, but decided it wouldn’t be worth the effort to move him. The rain had stopped and the fire had died. He pressed a hand to David’s cheek and found it even hotter, if that was possible, than before. He knew serious trouble when he saw it. They were dancing with death. Real, painful, permanent death. 

“I need you to drink something,” he commanded. David moaned, pushing the proffered canteen away, but Max didn’t accept no for an answer. When he refused to take hold of it, Max pushed it to his lips, tilting it so he had no choice but to drink. He did it until David pulled away and started choking, deep and horrible. Max patted him on the back in a way that he knew did absolutely nothing. 

When he finally seemed to calm down, Max capped the water. He’d try again in a little bit, if this stayed down. If it didn’t, he had no idea what he’d do. Shit, he already had no idea what he was doing. He decided that perhaps keeping David upright might help the water sit better, so he forced him to continue leaning against the tree even though all he wanted was to lie down. 

“You were right,” he admitted, his voice gravelly and nearly gone from coughing. “This was a bad idea. I’m so sorry.” 

“No shit,” he agreed. “You could be back at the camp resting. Hell, you should probably be in the hospital. But instead we’re stranded out here with zero hope of being rescued.” 

Even in the dark, Max could see his face fall. He didn’t make the mistake of confusing his little sniffle for illness. Shit. He’d made David cry. Ill, delirious, in-pain David. The counselor who had sacrificed everything, now perhaps even his life, for Max. In the hopes of renewing his hope. Healing his heart. He’d never have intentionally put him in danger. He’d thought he was pushing through virtually nothing, braving the elements in a way that would leave him fortified, not vulnerable. 

“Hey, don’t—I know you were trying to—to do a good thing. You’re always just trying to help. Just—don’t do that.” 

“Max. I promise you’re going to get out of here.” 

The use of the word “you’re” devastated him. 

“We,” Max said stubbornly. “You’re coming with me, asshole.” David nodded. 

“Yeah. Us.” 

The sun had set hours ago. That meant that there couldn’t be that much time until morning, right? Every minute that passed was a minute closer to rescue attempts. Gwen, despite her reluctance to do any real work, would get worried when they hadn’t arrived back to camp in the morning. She’d go looking. She’d have the rest of the camp come looking. How far could they really have gotten? Were they too far into the forest to save?

Max untied David’s bandana from his neck and left the tent to find a puddle in which to wet it. It came up muddy and gross, but it was better than wasting their drinking water on something that didn’t need to be clean. As gently as he could, he pressed the cloth to David’s forehead. It dripped brown water down the sides of his temples, but Max swore that it relaxed something in his face, relieved some of the discomfort. 

“Level with me, camp man,” he said. “How bad do you feel?” 

David took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. He wasn’t sure why he asked. He could see it for himself, hear it in the wheeziness of his lungs. His red, sweatless face and limp body attested to just how ill he really was. Still, something in him begged for honesty. For a straightforward answer. For a grounding statement that would allow him to believe that when David promised they’d make it out of this, that he wasn’t lying. All his life, adults had just told him whatever made him the easiest to deal with. David offered a weak smile. 

“Not great.” 

And that was that. Honesty. Blunt, straightforward, and truthful. He could trust David’s word, and David made a promise. So he chose, in that moment, chose to believe it. Optimism didn’t come easy to him. 

They could make it a few more hours. He was deciding. 

Every few minutes, he left the tent to rewet the compress in an attempt to keep it cold. Though he wasn’t sure whether it was really doing anything, he’d seen it in movies, so he figured it couldn’t hurt. When he did bravely reach his small hand out to David’s forehead, he found it still worryingly hot. It didn’t appear to be working. 

David flickered in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he was lucid enough to talk to Max. During those moments, he actually felt a little hope. They chatted about Max’s life outside of camp, about David’s. David’s voice was nearly gone and he winced when he moved. Complained of headaches and nausea. And God, that cough.

More often than not, though, he was out cold. Part of Max believed that was a blessing considering the pain he was clearly in. More than that, though, it found him lonely and scared. He wished he had brought Mr. Honeynuts. It might have given him someone to talk to. 

After what felt like hours of trying desperately to get the fever down, Max was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Sleep desperately wanted to pull him under. For as long as he could, he denied it, but all those trips to and from the puddle outside were adding up. Eventually, he decided that a short nap wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like the fever was changing much, anyway. He curled up next to David, feeling the concerning warmth radiating from him, and let his eyes shut. 

Max stood in the mess hall with all the other campers. Everyone seemed varying shades of sad and excited, all except Max. He wouldn’t have even known what was happening if it weren’t for the big banner across the wall: SEE YOU NEXT YEAR!

It was parent pick up day. 

“Max, will you sign my book?” 

He looked down to see that Neil was offering him a small, seemingly hand-bound signature book with the camp logo on its face. “All The Friends I Made This Summer.” David must have spent days working on these. Which meant that David was okay. They made it out of the hike. But where was he?

“I’m ready to get out of this shithole camp,” he felt himself say. He hadn’t chosen the words, hadn’t even really thought them. What was happening?

“Bye, Max,” Nikki called, waving as her parents held her hands and led her out the doors. David stood near the doors, crying and waving. He wanted to go talk to him. He wanted to ask how it had all ended. He couldn’t remember. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t get his feet to move from their spot on the ground. 

“Fuck your stupid book,” he said. The hurt that flashed across Neil’s face made him wince internally, but bodily, he rolled his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his own book in his hands: empty. He hadn’t gotten one signature. Probably hadn’t even asked. 

“See you next year,” Harrison called, stopping to hug David on his way out the door. One after another, parents came in and out. There were tearful reunions and phone numbers exchanged and well-wishes. All except Max, who stood there in the middle of the mess until there were no campers left. David closed the door and began working on taking down the balloons. 

“Uh,” he called, “are you forgetting someone?” David didn’t even look at him. “Hello?” 

Suddenly, Gwen was behind him. Where had she come from?

“Oh, Max,” she cooed condescendingly. “Sorry, buddy, but your parents aren’t coming to pick you up.”

He blinked in surprise. 

“Why not?”

“You know why.” She waited for an answer to dawn on him, and when none did, she laughed. “They’re not coming because they don’t want you anymore.”

Max’s eyes welled up with tears. “That’s not true.”

“Truth be told, they never wanted you. No one wants you. And why would they? You’re a useless kid with a bad temper and a smart mouth.” 

“Stop,” Max pleaded. “David?”

David whipped around, eyes wild and angry. He, too, started laughing. Gwen cackled. And the room spun. 

Max bolted awake with a gasp, jerking forward. He looked around, breathing hard. It had been a nightmare, then. Just a dream. 

“Max?” He cursed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Sorry. Go back to sleep.” 

“Did you have a nightmare?” Even fever-bright and creased with pain, David’s eyes showed nothing but concern. He shrugged. “Talk to me.” 

“It’s fine, David, I—”

“Might get my mind off things.” Max hesitated, then sighed.

“It was stupid. Just—no one wanted me.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s fair, right? My parents don’t want me, Gwen can’t stand me, I do nothing but terrorize you—”

“You think I don’t want you?”

“Why would you?” David was silent for such a long moment that Max had to look over to make sure he was still breathing. 

“Max. You’re smart. And you might try to hide it, but you care a lot. Probably too much. Why do you think I asked you to come on this hike?”

“More like forced me to.” David smiled. 

“I know you. And you’re a good kid. And I could never, ever hate you.” Max’s eyes felt hot. He swiped his hoodie sleeve over them before the tears hit his cheeks. Without another word, he laid back down and turned away from David.

“Go back to sleep.” As he waits for David’s breathing to even out as much as it has been, which is still frighteningly ragged, he lets the tears spill over his face without wiping them away. What if he really doesn’t make it through this?

By the time morning rolled around, Max was exhausted. Every time he’d woken from a nightmare, he’d used the opportunity to try to get David’s fever down again, but to no avail. He’d probably spent half the night swiping the wet cloth over his forehead, face, and neck. By this point, David was covered in mud, but Max couldn’t care less. He was still breathing, and that was what mattered. Sometimes, more and more rarely, he even woke up, but now he was rarely fully conscious. Most of the time, he was fearful, eyes focused on monsters only he could see. Max would soothe him, promising there was nothing there, until unconsciousness took him over once more. 

The sun rising was the only thing that had him holding out hope. Gwen would expect them to be back by 8. By 10, she’d be worried enough to start search parties, because David was nothing if not punctual, and if he had missed the deadline, something had to be wrong. Just a few more hours. David had, against all odds, made it through the night. He did it delirious and in so much pain, but he’d done it. Max had managed to keep him alive that long. 

David once again woke coughing, this time for so long that Max rolled him on his side so he wouldn’t choke. When the fit passed, he groaned. Max couldn’t help but pat him on the shoulder. 

“You okay, big guy?” David looked at him blearily. 

“God,” he managed, breathy and awful. He coughed a few more times, one hand clutching his chest. “Ow.” It sent a shiver up Max’s spine to see him so broken and hurting. He was shaking, though whether that was from cold or pain was anyone’s guess.

“Gwen is going to come looking for us soon. Just hold on a little bit longer, okay?”

“Cold,” David managed. He pinched the fabric on the arm of Max’s hoodie as if to assess it. “You’ll freeze.”

“It’s not that cold. You’re just burning up.” He cursed. Gwen better get her ass in gear soon. 

“What can I do?” 

“Eat something.” God damn it. That wasn’t what he was expecting. He shook his head. 

“There’s nothing left.”

“My backpack. Trail mix.” 

Oh, fuck. Max hadn’t even thought to look in David’s backpack. He’d thought he’d seen everything in it—flashlights, which hadn’t had much use given that he hadn’t been able to leave David’s side all night; an emergency ax, some multi-tool he hadn’t needed to go chasing. All the important stuff had been placed in Max’s pack because it was Max’s hike. Wasting no time, he turned over David’s pack and emptied the contents onto the ground just outside the tent. Sure enough, what came spilling out was predictable—until, there, at the bottom of the pack, he saw it. The very last thing to spill out. 

A flare gun.

“Hey, David,” he snapped, patting his cheek to get him to open his eyes again. “How do you use this?” He had to practically slap him to get the answer, but finally, David opened his eyes. 

“Here. Gimme.” Despite his better judgment, he handed the gun and cartridge to David, who toyed with it for a moment before managing to load it. Max took it back before he could accidentally pull the trigger. 

“Now what?” 

“Aim,” he replied. “Not straight up. At an angle.” Max did as he was told. “Look away, and fire.” 

The flare shot up into the cloudy day, bright red against the dark grey. Max jumped in the air, exhilarated. 

“We did it!” he cheered, but when he turned to face David, he found him slumped over to the side, once again unconscious. Max sighed. “We did it.” In the meantime, he should try again to make a fire, he thought. Maybe it would be enough to stop David’s shivering. 

Just as he got the first damp stick to take to the flame, Max heard something. He’d been listening to David’s labored wheezing all morning, so at first he wrote it off as just that, but then it came again. A voice. Distant, but unmistakable. 

“Max!” Someone called. God, they were so far away. “David!” He thought it might be Gwen. 

“We’re here!” he shouted back as loudly as he could manage. The voice continued calling for him, giving him no indication that they’d heard. 

“I’ll be back,” he promised David, who wasn’t even conscious enough to hear it. With that, he took off into the forest, chasing the sound. 

“Max!” It was definitely Gwen. 

“Gwen! Here!” He pushed even faster, burning every turn into his memory so he could remember how to get back. 

“Max?” 

She’d heard him. She was so close. One more reply and—

He ran right into her legs. Gwen screeched, but Max didn’t back off, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Nurf, Neil, and Nikki were nearby, scattered, but came when she’d yelped. 

“Max? Are you okay? Where’s David?” He was already dragging her toward their makeshift campsite. The others followed closely behind.

“It’s so bad,” he said. “Fuck, it’s—I’m so glad to see you.” 

“Max, what happened?” Neil asked. He shook his head, now breaking out into a run. They rounded one final row of trees before their campsite came into view and, of course, David, too. 

“Holy shit,” Gwen cursed, dropping to her knees beside her CBFL. “David? Can you hear me?” 

“I think he’s dying.” 

Gwen patted his cheeks, but to no avail. Without wasting any time, she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed. 

Max had been cleared by the medical staff pretty quickly, once they were finally at the hospital. As it had turned out, they weren’t actually far from the Flower Scouts camp, and Gwen had called in a favor. They managed to get David out of the forest and called an ambulance. It had taken eighteen minutes, of which Max counted every one. He’d paced the floor despite Gwen pleading with him to sit down. Everything ached, but he couldn’t sit, not with all this nervous energy. Even the doctors had debated giving him something to help him relax, but decided against it. 

Other than a few superficial cuts and bruises, Max was fine. He walked away with a few band-aids and a dose of children’s Tylenol. When he was released, it was into Gwen’s care. She hugged him, and for once, even though the entire rest of the camp were also in the waiting room, he allowed it. He drew the line at squeezing back. 

“Where’s David?” He couldn’t bring himself to voice the real question he wanted to ask. 

“He’s in a room. He was in pretty bad shape.” 

“No shit.” 

“We called your parents, but they’re both on the other side of the country on some business trip. I’m so sorry, Max.” 

In this moment, that was the last thing from his mind. Even if they were here, they wouldn’t comfort him. And God knows they wouldn’t pull him out of camp early, not even for this. 

“Can I go see him?” Gwen hesitated. 

“Max, he’s in really bad shape. He’s hooked up to a few machines.” Max wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. Was he supposed to not want to see him? 

“Which room?” 

She led him down the hall, leaving the rest of the campers in the waiting room, supervised by the quartermaster. He was only allowed in because Gwen was David’s emergency contact, and she’d lied and called Max her son. 

Indeed, David was hooked up to a bunch of machines. A big tube, which was explained to Max to be a ventilator, and a plastic one that went through his nose, which was explained to be a feeding tube. They weren’t sure how long he might be hooked up to them, but one thing that Gwen stressed was that the doctors had told her his odds of coming out of it were good, and that once it was over, he probably wouldn’t have any lasting damage. Perhaps a little lung scarring, but it was a good thing. A lucky thing. Had they been out there one more day, he probably wouldn’t have made it. 

“You did a really great job.” He’d scoffed. 

“You were the one that found us.”

“Only because of your flare.” Right. The flare gun. “You saved him, Max. Saved both of you.” 

He didn’t let himself show the relief.  

For the next few days, Gwen visited daily, and Max tagged along. Though the other campers wanted to see him as well, there was an unspoken understanding that that was Max’s right. He’d earned it. Little by little, David got stronger every day. Powerful medicines pumped through an IV tube, but slowly, he started to get a little stronger. Max was told that they were weaning him off the ventilator a bit more every day, but he didn’t believe it until the day it was announced that he was having it removed entirely. He’d still be in the hospital for a while, but the worst had passed. Finally, he could relax some. 

David was sitting up when Max opened the door. Though his face was still pale and bruised in the places he’d hit it during any number of the times he’d collapsed, he looked better. Against the white hospital sheets, he even looked like his face had gotten a little color back. Even the feeding tube had been removed, now that he was conscious. 

“David.” He rushed forward to the side of the bed and gripped the side rail with both hands. 

“Max,” he said, voice still rough from the tube but not as bad as it had been that night in the woods. “Hi.” 

“You’re such an asshole.” Everything in him hated that his voice wobbled. “I thought you were gonna die.”

“I’m so sorry.” It was earnest, but not enough. He’d been so scared, so absolutely terrified that he was having nightmares every night. He’d barely eaten, hardly slept in more than a week. “That was really stupid.” 

“You’re damn right it was.” He lightened up for a moment. “How do you feel?” Apparently not remembering any of that night, David seemed surprised that he’d care to ask. 

“Better,” he said. “The meds are helping.” 

“What was even wrong? Gwen won’t tell me. She said it’s private.” As much as David looked reluctant to tell him, Max knew he owed him that much.

“Some kind of bacterial pneumonia. It got into my blood and went downhill pretty fast.” Max nodded. 

“No shit.” 

“Gwen told me what you did,” he started. “You used all your survival skills.”

“You didn’t really give me a choice.” David winced. 

“I know. But still, you did great. I’m so proud of you. And so grateful that you didn’t get hurt too badly.” Max rolled his eyes to keep them from welling up. “That must have been unimaginably hard. You were amazing out there.” 

“Yeah, well. I had a good teacher, I guess.” David looked as if he couldn’t believe the single, miniscule compliment Max had just paid him. “You owe me for saving your life.” 

“I do. Just name iit, and it’s yours.” 

“No more hiking trips. Ever again. You’re so inept I barely trust you for the walk from your cabin to the mess hall.” 

“Done.” It didn’t escape his notice that Max could have asked for anything, but hadn’t. This must have really scared him. “Thanks, Max.”

“Whatever. I’m staying for a while. Give me your phone so I can ignore you.” 

David laughed a little, then handed over his phone. It was only fair. With David’s phone in hand, Max parked himself on a chair and crossed his legs, pretending to block him out entirely. Really, he just wanted to hear him breathing on his own without the horrible crackling sound, to listen to the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor. 

“I’m really glad you didn’t die,” he said without looking up. David smiled. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

He’d better enjoy this, because Max was never planning on being this nice to him ever again. But for now, he’d let him rest.