I'm fine, ok?

Chapter 3: But still

A/N- ok last chapter of angst. No for real. After this is fluff. Yes. Enjoy!
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Max's stomach churned angrily. He squeezed his eyes shut to try to block out the painful pulsating of his head. Why did David have to make him do that? Max shakily got to his feet, deciding he didn't want to say in the clammy mess hall. He started the walk to his tent, but it felt like miles and miles. It was late afternoon and the sun glared at him as if the sole purpose that it was in the sky today was just to spite him. It was just like the hike earlier but somehow so, so much worse. He finally made it to the trail to the tents. Nobody seemed to be around. They were probably on the other side of the camp doing some activity or the other. For the first time ever, and hopefully the last time, max actually found himself wishing he was with the others for once. He didn't want to be stuck here. He hated how his head felt. He hated how his legs felt. He just wanted to sleep.

Sleep. Sleep sounded good right about then. But his tent was still so far away. Did that matter? All he had to do was close his eyes.  Max felt his eyes get heavy, the ground seemed to get closer and the he forest around him went dark.

Max found himself back in his house. Except it seemed.. different somehow, more hazy? He tried to get up, to run away. Far away. But he couldn't. It was like he wasn't in control. But that wasn't the main problem here. He still felt the dry scratchyness in this throat, but it wasn't as bad as it was before. He felt himself get up, he was in his bed room, also known as the basement. He got off his bed and walked towards the basement door, making his way up the stairs.

He made it to the kitchen, but it was already occupied. His heart sped up. It was his mother. The absolute HAG. She looked bigger than he last saw her, or was he smaller? Max tried to turn around, to get far away from the lady who made his life hell for 10 whole years. But he was helpless. He reached out his hand and pulled on the long orange dress of the curly haired woman. "Mommy?" His voice was much more high pitched, "Mommy I don't feel so well, can i-" Max wanted to shut his eyes, but they remained open. He knew what was coming next. "Don't touch me!" His mother turned around with frightening speed and slapped him hard across the face, making him fall to the floor. Ten year old max would have never wasted a single tear on that woman, but younger max immediately burst into tears.

"Honestly." Growled Max's mother. "Do you want me to call your father? I don't want to see you up here. You're a fucking disgrace, what if the neighbors see you?" Max couldn't say anything. His mother dragged him back to the basement and locked the door from the outside. "If you could walk all the way up here just to bother me, you're not sick enough" his mother taunted, "and if you can't make it up, all the better. Now go sleep or something and I don't want to hear a fucking peep out of you for the next few hours until your father gets home. He will hear about this. And it will be dealt with."

Max waited for the sound of footsteps to get far away. Then he just cried. Out of fear, confusion and pain. He rubbed his cheek like a wounded animal and kept crying. That could have gone on for minutes, hours, days. He lost track. But all to soon, he heard the door creak open. He huddled deeper under his covers, even though there was no escape. He braced himself for another round of abuse. Why couldn't they forget about him this time. The tears ran down his face hotter and faster than before.

"Max?" Said a strange but familiar voice. That was weird. It wasn't his father. The voice was kinder, more concerned. "Max, wake up!" The voice chided, more urgently this time. He poked his head out of the covers. Except they weren't covers. It was his hoodie, and it wasn't covered in mud anymore. "Please Max, get up" the voice was clear now, and it definitely wasn't his father. "David?" Max asked, opening his eyes slowly. "Oh thank God Max, let's get you inside" David had the hoodie wrapped around max tightly. Max was still crying.

"What were you thinking max? You can't sleep on the dirt like that, ants could have attacked you, or worse, the platypus could have caught up with you" David ranted, worry laced into his voice. Max wasn't listening, he was busy trying to squirm away. He was still stuck halfway in his dream. He didn't want to get yelled at. He didn't want to get hit. He tried his absolute best to make his way out of David's arms.

David on the other hand, wasn't having it. At first he thought that max was just starving, but now it was apparent that it was a lot more than that. The sun had set only minutes ago and it was a cool evening overall, yet still max was drenched in sweat and he didn't even know how long he was lying there. He could hear the painful gasps that were achieved as the boy struggled to take in enough air to continue sobbing. David knew this wasn't like max at all. He didn't know what he was crying about, but it had to be something that really shook him. David wanted to take him back to the councillor's quarters, or at least the mess hall, because those were closer and max probably shouldn't be around the others at the time, but Max was desperately struggling against him.

"Max!" David kept calling, "You're ok, it's ok". David held onto him. It didn't take much as max was tired and weak at the moment and his struggles steadily died down, though he continued sobbing. "Max?" David tried to lift him up to carry him back, but Max gagged as he was moved. Before David could react, Max threw up onto the floor. David stopped attempting to move him and instead let him empty the contents of his stomach onto the forest floor. "That's it max, you'll be fine." David rubbed circles onto the shaking boys back. This was bad. David was glad he left gwen with the other campers near the campfire, he didn't want the others sick as well and he knew Max wouldn't want the others to see him like this.

Max, on the other hand, was just about having the time of his life. He hated vomiting and the taste was worse than when it went through his mouth the first time, and he didn't even think that was possible. He knew he wasn't at home anymore, and he knew that his stupid parents were no where close to him, but he couldn't stop crying. And probably worst of all, David was right there looking at him being pathetic.  Max could have just suffered through it himself but nooooo David shows up. And it wasn't like he could yell at him to go away either. Max resolved to refusing to make eye contact. He was acutely aware that the adult seemed to be rubbing his back. Nobody ever did that to him while he was sick before. It felt strange, but good.

When max finally wasn't able to dump any more of his stomach on the floor no matter how hard he tried, David took his had off of Max's back. Max whined, he didn't want it to end. David turned his Max's face so he would look at him. "Max, you can't sleep out here, you'll feel worse." Max tried to look away but David turned his face back again, "No Max, you're sick, and it's my job to take care of you. I'm going to carry you to a proper bed, and give you some medicine and you're going to sleep, understand?" Max started crying just a little harder. "Please Max?" David pleaded. Max didn't say anything. He hugged him. Well, it was more of max clinging to him than a hug, but it was Max's standards. "All right", David picked him up for a second time, max's eyes closed slowly. "Lets get you inside."