Work Text:
It's rare—exceedingly, heartbreakingly rare—but every now and then, Max will see a spark of hope in Ash's eyes.
When the kid is with Eiji, of course, it happens more frequently. Like he's given the chance to actually ... be a kid. Maybe for the first time in his life.
Just a boy of seventeen.
Max will never forget the expression on Ash's face as Max burned those photos of him. Disbelief, mostly—like he was expecting Max to look at the photos, to—
Not to destroy them, that's for sure. That's the last thing Ash seemed to expect of him.
And it was impulsive, sure. They needed all the evidence they could get. But when Max thought about the fear, the rage in Ash's eyes as he held the gun to Frog's head ... He couldn't let that shit exist in this world.
And that moment, with the literal fire reflecting in Ash's eyes—that was maybe the most hopeful Max has ever seen him. Definitely the most hope he'd ever shown without Eiji in the room.
Max thinks back to Ash in Dawson's house—clearly not used to the burn of hard liquor, but determined to drown the feeling of having to be just a little mean to Eiji. And the two have only grown closer since then.
Those glimpses of hope within Ash; Max has learned that hope is a fragile, fickle thing. That it needs to be protected. Burning out as quickly as the flames engulfing Ash's photos when there was no fuel left to consume. Falling to the ground, extinguished.
That's how hope tends to go, with Ash. Gone faster than it appeared, without a hint of ever having been there. Leaving nothing behind—nothing but ash, anyway. Nothing except for Ash.
But that Ash—Ash is worth so, so much. He's worth so much to Max.
And not ... not in the way that Ash has been valuable to others. There's an important distinction there, but it's not one that Max wants to think about.
So when Ash is staying with Max and Jess—who are living together now, too—in this whole transitionary period ... Max cherishes those sparks of hope that he sees in Ash, and he wants to do his best to encourage them. To shelter them.
So here they are, post-stabbing and pre-Eiji's flight back to the States.
Ash is still injured, to say the least, and—in more ways than one. But he's recovering well. Hopefully in more ways than one on that, too.
Jess has been helping Ash more than Max, of course; Max isn't offended, and has been giving Ash his space. Despite Jess and Ash being so at odds when they met, Jessica quickly became as much of a mama bear to Ash as she is to Michael. Ash hasn't quite gotten that through his head, yet, but that's okay.
They'll get there. Max has to hope, too. He has to tell himself that it's worthwhile to hope.
Ash approaches Max, which is—rare. Very rare. Ash has been so, so wary around Max since everything calmed down. Like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like he's waiting—waiting for Max to do something that Max will never do.
"Hey, kid," Max says. He doesn't move, laying back on the couch. Doesn't lean in toward Ash, or—anything. Tries not to do anything, anything that would make him seem like a threat.
Because Ash seems to interpret everything as a threat. Ever since there are no threats left, everything is a threat.
"Hey," Ash echoes, shuffling a little closer. He keeps his feet almost attached to the floor as he does. Like he's afraid to move too much. Afraid to do anything. Afraid of repercussions.
"How have you been?" Max asks. "Haven't talked to you much." Ash has been avoiding everyone as much as possible.
"I'm okay," Ash mumbles. I'm afraid, Max hears. I'm so afraid.
Max's heart pangs. He wants to ask Ash why he's out here—what brought him into the light, but he doesn't want to scare the kid off.
Ash moves just a little closer, still keeping his distance. "I wanted to ask you about something."
"Anything," Max says immediately, and Ash winces. Fuck. What did Max do wrong?
"I just, uh—I wanted to—I, uh—" Ash stammers.
What are you so afraid of? Max wants to ask. But he knows the answer, in a way. There's danger around every corner to Ash. There's men lurking in every shadow. Max knows; Max knows. And Max has the potential to be one of those men.
"Jessica," Ash blurts. "How did you, uh—how did you get her to ... marry you?"
... Huh. Max grins. "Is this about Eiji?" he asks.
Ash bristles, but doesn't respond. He looks away.
"What do you want to know?" Max asks. "I was quite the ladies' man in my day, you know. And some men, too ..." He winks. "Like your brother."
Ash glares at him now, making a face. "Gross," he grumbles.
Max smiles, soft and genuine. "So you're trying to woo Eiji," he says, switching tactics.
"I, uh—yeah," Ash whispers, surprising Max. He didn't think Ash would admit it outright so soon.
"I don't think you have a lot of wooing to do, kid," Max says gently. "I think you're already about where you want to be."
"... How can I be worthy of him?" Ash asks. "H-he might think that I already am, but I'm not. I'm not. What do I do to deserve him?"
"Ash," Max breathes. "You deserve him. You deserve to be happy."
Ash moves a little, and something shines in his eyes. "No," he whispers. "That's ... yeah. No."
But the fact that Ash is asking ... that rare glimmer of hope.
Max needs to encourage that.
"How did you win Jessica over?" Ash asks again. "Y-you came out traumatized, too, right? After Iraq? So how ... ?"
Max sighs. "Sit down, kid," he murmurs. "I've got some stories for you."
Careful, hesitant, Ash makes his way over to the couch. He keeps his distance from Max, curling up on the far side. Everything about his posture is defensive.
"You already know that Jessica and I divorced." And you were part of why we were able to reunite, Max thinks, but he doesn't add that. "The whole—war thing. That was part of that."
Ash nods slowly, seeming to ponder that.
"I mentioned that Griff turned to drugs to get through. I guess I did the same with alcohol. And Jessica ... it was hard on both of us, and Michael. We couldn't make it through that. Not together. And when I landed myself in prison—punching a cop while drunk out of my mind—it is what it is, I guess. It was what it was."
"Do you regret it?"
"Every day of my life," Max says immediately. "I regret enlisting. I regret my dependence on alcohol. I regret ever losing Jessica. Losing Michael."
"But you got her back," Ash whispers. "You're—good, and you deserve a family like this."
"So do you, Ash," Max says, reading between the lines of Ash's words. "I promise. So do you."
"I—I want to deserve Eiji," Ash admits. His voice breaks on Eiji's name, just a little. "I want ..."
"You're allowed to want."
"What do I do?" Ash pleads. "He wants to stay by my side—he's returning to the States for me, and ... I don't know what to do. I don't know how to let myself have that. I want to be good enough for him, and I want to keep him with me. I'm so, so worried that one day he's going to realize that I'm not worth it. That I've never been worth it."
"You're worth it," Max insists. He doesn't have to try to make his voice strong; he's confident in his words. He leans in toward Ash, just a little, and Ash doesn't recoil. "You're not some charity case. We're not letting you stay out of a sense of obligation or any shit like that, okay? You're here because we care about you, and we want you to be okay."
Ash glances at the wound in his side.
"You need a painkiller?" Max asks. "Take care of yourself."
Ash shakes his head. "I'm okay," he whispers. "I just miss Eiji."
"... Yeah," Max says gently. "I know. I wish I could help more."
"It's not your job to help me."
"It kind of is, actually. It's always an adult's job to help out a kid."
"... I'm not a kid," Ash whispers. "I've never been a kid."
"You're a kid to me. You'll always be a kid to me."
Ash starts shaking, just a little. Crying, maybe. "W-when Eiji comes back," he starts, "I want to kiss him again. Is that okay? Is that bad? To want to defile him all over again?"
"... Ash ..."
"To want to stain him?"
"You can't stain him. Because you're not dirty."
"I—I—"
Max wants to wrap Ash in his arms, to hold him close and rock him back and forth and scare the bad things away, like he does when Michael has a nightmare. But Ash's nightmares are so much more real than Michael's, and Max is worried that there's nothing he can do. Nothing he's not over a decade too late for.
"I want Eiji," Ash cries, rocking himself back and forth. "I want Eiji!"
"I know, kid," Max whispers. "He'll come back for you. He won't leave you alone."
"I was g-going to leave him alone," Ash stammers, pressing a hand to his side.
... He was going to bleed out in that library.
Fuck.
This is just too much, but if it's too much for Max, how the hell does it feel for Ash?
"It's going to be okay," Max promises. A promise he doesn't know if he can keep, but he's determined to try. He's got to try. He's got to ...
"It's not okay," Ash mumbles.
"But it's going to be," Max insists. "You are going to be okay, Ash."
"... Can you hug me?" Ash whispers, and Max is certain he mishead.
"What?"
"S-sorry, I know I'm not your kid or anything; I just—"
"Yes," Max interrupts. "Yes. I'd be happy to ... Of course."
Ash shuffles across the couch, crawling with his head down, and it's the least seductive Max has ever seen him move. Max opens his arms, and Ash crawls into his embrace.
"You'll be okay," Max says again. "You will be okay."
Ash sobs. Cries his eyes out in Max's arms, and then falls asleep there.
Max thought he wouldn't have to deal with a kid this age for another decade or so, but ...
Maybe this isn't so bad. Maybe Max can manage this.
Because Ash is going to be okay.