Work Text:
The sun had nearly set upon the pollution soaked air of New York even out in this shadowy forest in the genuine middle of nowhere and Sam could not find Max anywhere. Their current case lead them to this modified warehouse, as they were chasing two criminals. The two criminals were a pair of young adults, young enough that Sam would hate their music on principle. But the criminals were old enough, in their early thirties at the very least, to know better than to do this whole three ringed circus. It also seemed they barely knew each other since they had an argument on this topic and they were out of sync in their law-breaking.
They lived up to their immaturity by planning to gas the entirety of New York with a fear toxin to induce mass heart attacks. Apparently they hadn’t gotten the formula down right to actually force heart attacks but what they had on hand was enough to cause a public concern.
It was like a mixture of a silver aged comic era mixed in with a ninety’s grimy and edgy flair that would have been derided by even the nerdiest of comic book readers was what Sam thought as he explored this warehouse alone. The warehouse was sparse and ramshackle in preparation for becoming an evil lair but it was filled with very obvious traps like piranha tanks and giant laser beam machines, the picture of comic book chicanery. There was an annoying slide puzzle that opened up a door that lead Sam down a long hallway.
The criminals had grabbed Max via smoke and mirror tricks right when they entered the warehouse, not long after booming over an intercom that Sam had to hurry before Max was turned into fish chum. That alone sealed the criminals’ fate.
It was almost funny otherwise to see these wannabe criminals cut their teeth on crime by trying to emulate what was drawn and penned on the thin and glossy pages of comic books. What kept it from being completely funny was that Max wasn’t here. As Sam got closer to the end of the hallway he came up with a half-baked joke of Max being a husband in distress. He chuckled despite himself and filed that away to tell Max later.
The hallway came to an end where a large glass window was set into a little room. Sam stepped in cautiously and looked down. His paws balled into fists alongside the growl that rose in his throat. Down below was a bare basement room in the warehouse, concrete walls and floors the latter of which was shiny with small puddles of blood and scattered unused bullets from Max’s gun.
Max was tied up, spare ropes not far away from him, and even from high up in the small room Sam could see the prominent wounds and bruises he got from fighting with the pair before they managed to subdue him. There was proof of that by the female criminal because she was holding up the shredded remains of her hand and wrapping cloth around the grievous wound, seemingly running on adrenaline alone. At the very least it gave Sam hope that the blood staining Max’s fur mostly belonged to the female criminal.
The male criminal was dragging a tank sprayer that had a label of an anatomical heart speared clean through. Time was running out and Sam rushed out of the room to find a way to that basement. In his efforts to practically tear apart the main room of the warehouse he found a dusty trap door underneath the laser beam machine.
Sam slammed it open and rushed down the stairs. As he got further down he heard muffled yelling. It spurred him to run faster and right before he got to the bottom he heard Max’s distinctive and noisy voice.
The stairs led to a short hallway and as Sam got his gun out he heard the male criminal’s voice, muffled by the wood of the door.
“You’ll be consumed by your greatest fear at the end of all things.”
Sam had his paw on the door knob and he heard Max’s retort just before he flung it open.
“Write a book or shut up – “ Max was cut off by a harsh hissing noise and Sam caught sight of the male criminal spraying Max in the face, the tank canister in his hands. It was punctuated by a bout of churlish laughter that echoed throughout the bare room.
The next moment was encased in tunnel vision and there was a sickening crack as Sam pistol whipped the male criminal with the holster of his gun. A spray of blood gushed onto the concrete as the male criminal’s nose was broken and his two front teeth were knocked loose. The female criminal fell back, her eyes wide, and Sam lifted the male criminal off the ground.
“What did you do to my little buddy?” he bellowed. His voice was dangerous, the words spilling out of him like the foamed barks of a rabid dog. Boiling rage flooded every part of his brain as he bared his teeth, a reminder that though they were not like the serrated teeth set into Max’s jaw they could rip out vocal chords.
The male criminal choked and sputtered on his mouthful of blood. It spilled out onto the front of his shirt as Sam threw him down onto the concrete. He kept his gun trained on them as he rushed to Max’s side.
“Max, Max – “ Sam fell down to knees to untie him. He winced when he saw the rope burns imprinted on his little buddy’s wrists, stark against his white fur. “You okay?”
Max didn’t answer him and it had nothing to do with the fact that it was a stupid question. He was overcome by a bad coughing fit, the sort that made it hard to take a deep breath as much as he tried to formulate words. When it was over his breathing was shallow and Sam would have taken more time to make sure he was okay but a different pained sound took his attention.
Sam looked to see that the female criminal was beginning to get up and he stood up faster to grab the nearby rope. He made short work of the two criminals, tying them together and anger simmering below the surface as he demanded answers.
“What did you do to him?”
“Haven’t you been listening? Don’t you have eyes, you really don’t get it?” the female criminal asked in a snide tone as if either of them had an upper hand in this situation. “He got sprayed with the fear toxin.”
The male criminal spat out more blood that dripped onto the concrete and smirked. “Your husband doesn’t know when to shut the hell up so we took care of that,” he taunted.
“What’s going to happen to him?” Sam turned his attention to Max again when a strange sound emitted from his throat, a groan that turned to a pained whine.
“Hallucinations before the big finale,” the female criminal said. “He’ll deserve what he gets at the end of it for tearing up my hand.”
“What happens at the end?” Sam demanded.
“You know it’ll be the end of it when he can’t breathe,” the male criminal said with a bloody, two gapped toothy smile.
Coldness crashed over Sam like the full force of a tsunami, deep in his gut, and his paws shook as the words set in. Sam heard those words repeat in his head alongside a loud thumping noise and he realized belatedly that his heart was pounding in his ears. Every part of his brain was running in a different direction, to grab Max and take him to the hospital, that those words had to be a lie even as they echoed in his head, denial that this could be the end of it all because Max was always okay in the end.
Except for the one time he wasn’t, memories of when he was a monster and impaled through the chest as his head burst into flames joined the force of the panic. Sam lost him. Until this Max found him but it was happening again and Sam couldn’t let it happen again. He couldn’t fail his little pal a second time.
Amid this a small yet powerful impulse took control of him.
Sam pressed the barrel of his gun to the male criminal’s forehead. The female criminal let out a short cry and that was enough of a split second distraction from Sam pulling the trigger. It gave the male criminal enough time to scream out his next words before his brain painted the concrete.
“It won’t kill him, I swear to God he won’t die,” he stammered, tears and snot running down his face alongside the bloody saliva. It was a pathetic display for someone that wanted to kill the population of New York. “It’s like a – it’s like an asthma attack! That’s all it is, please – “
Sam lowered his gun. One could say that it was because he couldn’t debase himself to this criminal’s level but really it was because this would take up time that needed to be given to Max.
Sam didn’t spare the two criminals a second glance after that moment. The non-Freelance Police would come and pick the criminals up eventually. He reached underneath Max’s arms and helped him up.
“Max, can ya walk?”
He got a shallow nod in return and Sam didn’t entirely trust his judgment. He had his paw pressed against Max’s shoulder when they went up the steps of the trapdoor and when they were a few steps out of the modified warehouse Max collapsed to his knees. He was gasping as he tried to scream, his eyes wide as he looked at something Sam couldn’t see.
Sam was by his side in an instant, his palm warm against Max’s back. “Little pal, I’m with ya. I’m right here, just hold on.”
Sam scooped Max up into his arms and could feel him trembling violently. He ran to the Desoto and had irrational thoughts about Max opening up his wounds. He buckled Max in and began to drive to the nearest hospital.
Unfortunately they were still in the middle of genuine nowhere. The fat moon shone a faint light on the dark path as the Desoto raced down the roads. Beside him Max made these low sounds of pain and fear like a half-dead thing, only constricted in their loudness by the tightening of his throat. Sometimes his voice would strangle out Sam’s name and it spurred him to go faster, traffic laws be damned.
It felt like the world was spiraling that it turned out like this, like some sadistic writer was penciling this night to make Max suffer and it wasn’t funny. It wasn’t funny at all to see his little pal like this and these were unknown waters that they had to navigate together.
Sam hated that Max was in so much pain and he should have made that male criminal pay a larger price than the loss of his two front teeth and his broken nose. Sam should have broken him like a cheap glow stick. But that didn’t help now and Max needed him.
As they rolled back into the city Max’s breathing became erratic. Sam stopped the Desoto, running over the sidewalk somewhat, and he hurried to put the Desoto into park before he faced Max. He unbuckled him so he wouldn’t feel restrained as the first waves of the worst effects of the fear toxin rolled in.
Max gripped one of Sam’s paws like a vice and it shook in Sam’s grip. The entirety of Max trembled, his other paw pressed up against his chest. He couldn’t take a full breath and his wide eyes were frantic as he tried to make sense of what was happening to him.
Sam held his paw tight, kept the other on Max’s shoulder to keep him steady. He counted a rhythm for Max to breathe and he tried to match it; when Max’s breathing stuttered or he clenched at his chest Sam would start over.
“Just try to breathe for me, Max,” Sam said as the worst of it seemed to wash over him and Max was breathless as his paw balled into a fist against his chest. It felt stupid to say that but Sam had to be there for him for every step of this process. “One, two, three – again – it’ll all be okay. I dunno what it is you’re seein’, little buddy, but I’m stayin’ right here with you ‘cause I love ya, all right? I’ll ride it out with ya.”
Sam didn’t even know if Max could understand him. But it wouldn’t stop him from talking.
It took a long while for this to finally leave Max and he slumped against the seat when his breathing was finally back to normal. After Sam got him buckled up again he rushed to find any sort of doctor and before long he found an urgent care.
He carried Max inside and they were admitted quickly because that counted as a presidential perk, as much as Max complained in the past that he didn’t get many of those which usually pertained to deciding which country to go to war with. They were allowed to pay later and Sam would have to tell Max that part of the bill was footing the entire staff a long week trip to Clearwater Beach. Just out of unsaid gratitude, a rare show of genuine goodwill.
Otherwise the visit went in a blur of medical jargon but at the end of it there were no additional problems with Max. The toxin was only strong enough to induce a panic attack and hallucinations, and it would be completely filtered out of his body in the morning. All that was left was patching up Max’s wounds and he refused to let anyone other than Sam do it after too much poking and prodding by doctors.
Somehow it fleetingly reminded Sam of their shared childhood together.
It was there in the medical room with the bandages and cold compresses provided to them that Sam seemed to return to himself and the injuries of Max set in. There was a swollen bruise on his chest already turning to the color of a plum and though he had gotten kicked in the ribs there were no broken bones because this was still Max. Alongside that large bruise were smaller ones scattered across his face, torso and knuckles. There were scrapes etched into his face and paws, welts on his wrists from the rope burn. The blood was washed away by now and Sam could still only hope that most of it belonged to the criminals.
Sam had to get started on the worst of the wounds but in this moment it all looked like the worst. He eventually got started by putting a cold compress on the welts caused by the tight rope. He looked up into Max’s eyes that could finally focus.
“I’m sorry this happened, little buddy,” Sam said quietly. And that didn’t encompass his entire feelings on the matter. This wasn’t the first time they walked away from a case with scrapes and bruises. It would have been stupid to think they could go on unscathed. But Sam should have been faster to help Max, should have been faster to protect him.
Should have been didn’t help anyone. Sam bandaged the rope burns carefully and got started on bandaging the various cuts. Max would have normally been gloating to have gotten a genuine apology from Sam. And God knew he wished he could hear that as damn irritating as it would have been.
Instead Max gave a vigorous shake of his head and stopped with a low groan, the sound making Sam’s heart sink.
“I’m almost done,” he said. He pressed the cold compress to the bruise on Max’s chest, hoping to ease the swelling.
“Sam, I – “
“Shush, Max,” Sam said gently. He kept a firm grip on the compress and tried not to think about how Max’s voice was still tinged with terror. “It’ll be okay in the morning.”
“No, Sam, it’s,” Max’s paw gripped onto his wrist like Sam would up and abandon him right there and then. His voice was so soaked with pleading that it made Sam’s chest ache. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me.”
Sam carefully cupped Max’s bruised cheek and lifted up Max’s face so that they were eye to eye. At any other time Max would have probably said that with gobs of saccharine dripping from the words, all doe-eyed and coy. Faux-cute just as he always was, the entire shape of manipulation. The sort that Sam would return with a biting retort to continue their ever present game.
But right now it was given genuinely and his eyes looked so lost that Sam had to take hold and guide him back to the truth.
“’Course, little buddy,” Sam said. “I told you, I’m not goin’ anywhere. I promise you that.”
For the first time all night Max relaxed. He drifted forward to hug him, muttered words lost. It was only by Sam’s entire life being intertwined with his that he knew they sounded like I love ya too.
It only took a few more moments for Sam to finish patching him up and then they were allowed to leave for home. Max fell asleep on the long way back and Sam gathered him up in his arms when they finally got back home. The grey, clouded skies kept the morning sun from shining through completely and Sam wondered how in the hell he was still coherent.
When he got them up to the office he only made it as far as the couch before he collapsed onto its worn cushions. He moved Max out of his arms so that his head rested in Sam’s lap as he continued to sleep.
It didn’t take long for Max to wake up. He blinked slowly and lifted himself up to a sitting position. Sam fought down his instinct to bring Max into a crushing hug in case he was still hurt. They sort of stared at each other in the held silence before Max finally spoke.
“That was a hell of a night.”
Sam breathed out a very low, heavy sigh like the wind whistled through his teeth. He suddenly felt the full weight of the night all at once in tandem with the tension held in his shoulders all night going slack. He reached for Max’s paw and squeezed.
“Yep. Sure was.”
Max climbed into Sam’s lap and didn’t shut up. “Hey, hey, Sam. Look at me.”
Sam did and was so grateful that he was able to see that face. “You okay, little pal?”
“Peachy. I’m just lettin’ ya know that today you are not gettin’ rid of me. Say hello to your fuzzy new cankle.”
“Oh, so it’s just like every day, then.” Sam reached out and pulled him into a hug, his next words warm against Max’s fur. “It’s the damndest thing, Max. You’re like glitter that exploded from a piñata, can never get rid of ya.”
“You know that I moonlight as a canker sore, Sam, get it right.” Max put his arms around Sam in turn, burying his face into the crook of Sam’s neck.
Sam just smiled and held Max tighter. It was a good plan that Max was going to be his shadow because Sam wasn’t going to let him out of sight. Not forever, of course. Just as much as they both needed.
When Sam loosened up his embrace he thought that maybe they could go track down that writer who put their whole lives into a merciless spiral and give her a good kick in the ribs. Then he remembered she wasn’t real which was just a big indication of how goddamn tired he was.
He reached up to pet at Max’s head, chuckling quietly as he watched his little buddy’s head lull from the touch. His next words were teasingly soft.
“You know, Max, you were a husband in distress during that case.”
“Shut up, Sam,” Max said immediately. Sam only ruffled at his fur in deep affection, a bottomless source that was outpoured for Max alone. He drew his paw back and a tired sigh exhaled through his nose.
“I’m gonna get some shut-eye now. Max, if you feel weird just punch me awake.”
“Will do, Sam.” Max nuzzled against his chest, getting himself comfortable.
Sam wrapped his arms around Max. Morning had settled upon New York and Sam could finally feel contentment now that Max was in his arms.