AN: Heeeeeyyyyy, here's a story from yet another cartoon I've recently gotten into! (Yeah I know, I don't publish stories often, and I'm so sorry about that. I don't get much inspiration for writing) Honestly, this took me weeks to finish, thanks to my lack of motivation, but this was kind of based on how one night, I couldn't sleep because of heavy wind AND a power outage, but mainly the heavy wind (but I'm fine, so don't worry about that everyone!).
Anyways, here's a lovely Camp Camp fanfic I hope you all enjoy! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Camp Camp. Rooster Teeth does.
The Howling Wind
Just like any other night, Max had gotten his pajamas on, brushed his teeth, and anything else he needed to do before finally heading off to bed, and enter the world far from reality. He's not one to call it "fantasy dream world," unlike a certain someone just down the hall from his bedroom. While he does have his own imaginations thinking of ways to cause trouble around the camp, or making the counselors' lives as miserable as possible, his childish dreams and worldview have been long gone, even before he turned ten.
While the young 10-year-old sleeps, a quiet wind picks up, surrounding the entire house. The low, deep howling perforating throughout the already silent and dark night.
A few months ago, as soon as he found out his parents had left without warning, or even a notice, the young boy was speechless. He didn't know what to do besides stand there in front of the door with a small piece of paper stuck to it that read "FOR RENT." He felt many emotions at once. Anger, hurt, sadness, and most importantly, heartbreak. He knew his parents never cared enough to look out for him, their child, but it still led him to near tears seeing how far they'll go, literally and figuratively, just to get rid of him.
It was two months later that David had seen him, and how poor of a condition he was in. His clothes were tattered and covered in filth, his eyes look as if he hadn't slept in several weeks, and he looked like he lost weight from not eating anything at all since the last time they've encountered, and even then he never ate much. The counselor had drove by and saw this heartbreaking sight as Max was walking down the sidewalk, Mr. Honeynuts, his most valuable item, a stuffed bear, being the only thing he was carrying aside from the clothes on his back.
While the young boy would never show it, he was actually glad deep down that he ran into David, but not near the way he would've expected. He would never have thought David of all people would see him like this. In fact, he wasn't expecting him at all until the day his parents would've no doubt dropped him off at the camp the first day it opened… if they haven't moved out of their apartment, practically abandoning their only child.
The counselor couldn't stand to see the young boy in such conditions, especially after finding out from Max himself why he was out in the streets, and knowing exactly what he needed to do, he had insisted on Max getting in his car and letting him stay with him for the time being. Unfortunately, the young boy had refused countless times, saying he didn't need his help, despite himself clearly showing otherwise. About ten minutes later, filled with David's countless insistences, and Max's refusals and attempts to drive him away, the latter finally relented and stepped in the vehicle to "shut him up." In other words, Max was getting incredibly tired and he didn't want to spend another night in a dumpster.
Since David took him in that night, things for him felt a bit odd, considering he was in an entirely new environment, and at his old counselor's house at that. It took him a while to adjust to it, along with having a regular bedtime schedule and more than one meal a day. He was still getting used to it all.
For a while during that time, David, being as thoughtful and caring as he usually is, had fought for the adoption of the child he now claims as his son. Because Max wasn't put in a foster home, it was difficult to convince the state to simply give it up and let him take the boy in his hands. He was fully aware of how much responsibility and, because it's Max, how much of a handful he was going to be under the counselor's care, but never minded it. He felt it was not only his job to care and watch out for children, but the right thing to do, because after all, Max is only a child.
He had done much convincing and paperwork for the custody of the young boy for a few weeks straight. He stopped at nothing, not even for a break, with the exceptions of the necessities, such as eating, bathroom breaks, sleep, and a shower. No matter what his thoughts tried to tell him, the small spark of hopelessness and despair creeping at his brain, he had shoved those intrusive thoughts as far away as possible, because nothing was going to stop him from taking Max to where he belongs: a good, safe home with everything he needs, and a caring, loving parent to help with emotional support in a positive environment.
Finally, the state had given up and let David sign everything he needed to sign to officially adopt Max. Since that day, things have gotten so well, despite the young boy getting into trouble at school and causing more trouble at the house. He was still Max, nothing had changed between the two of them, aside from the fact that they now shared the same house.
As the hours go by, the quiet wind becomes louder, and louder, gradually disturbing Max's sleep. It didn't take long to finally wake him up from his peaceful slumber, due to something hitting the side of the house. Back when he lived with his parents, any time the wind had gotten heavier, he'd try to brush it off, since his parents were either too busy doing their own thing or sleeping, and fall back asleep, and try as he must, it never worked. If anything, the loud roar had frightened him even more.
What made things worse for the young boy was the abrupt power outage, making everything pitch black. His breathing had gotten heavier and he was starting to shake. He felt himself getting smaller and smaller from the loud roar outside and his hands started to sweat from how scared he's gradually getting. He tries so hard to hide it, tell himself "It's just the fucking wind. There's nothing to be afraid of," but it barely works.
"I've been through worse things! Why the fuck am I afraid of the wind of all things?!" He whispered loudly, so as not to wake up his adopted father.
He looks over at the clock to see what time it is, only to see that not much time has passed sine the wind started and the power outage. 2:27am. It was going to be a rough night, he could already tell.
There was nothing to do to calm himself, he can't watch TV, since there's no electricity, he can't fetch himself something to eat, since everything was so dark, and he can't see anything farther than an inch from his face, so there wasn't much of a point if he was just going to fall on his face every ten seconds. All he could do was sit and wait for the wind to calm down, and for the electricity to come back on so he can fall back asleep for about five more hours. ...If the weather ever calms down that is.
Unfortunately, it does anything but that, for the loud roar turns into a huge gust that comes and goes every minute. Max was so tired at this point, but is too afraid of falling back asleep, fearing for the worst to happen if he ever does so. It's all he ever wanted at this point, and if only it were that easy. If only the weather listened to him and gave him what he wanted, and for the electricity to come back. Just those two things, and he would be more than happy to doze off into the wonders of dreamland.
The young boy was surprised that David would be asleep through all the chaos happening just outdoors instead of himself. How he wishes he had the same ability as David right now. just to sleep through the crazy weather and not have to worry about anything happening to him in the middle of the night.
Max snapped back from his thoughts to feel something wet across his face, his vision blurring. It only took him a second after wiping his face to find out he is indeed crying. More tears form, and he finds it hard to stop. There's nothing he can do to pass time, and there's nothing he can do to distract himself from outdoors. He should be used to this by now, as this has only happened for as long as he can remember, years even. However, the only thing sensible to do was bury his face into his knees, wrapped around his arms, and sob, very unlikely for Max of all people to do. Yet here he was, crying all because he can't get anymore sleep, the wind keeping him awake with it's cruel and loud gust, and the pitch black darkness surrounding him from all sides.
He sat there for a while, until a very sudden, loud noise occurred, the sound of a large stick violently whacking the side of the house, had Max jolting right back up. "FUCK!" He shouted, almost instinctually, before throwing his blanket over to cover himself as he turned facing the door. This was the perfect time to grab Mr. Honeynuts and hold him tightly like there's no tomorrow. He'd do so if he hadn't forgotten to grab him before climbing into bed, which he now deeply regretted.
Another noise occured, this time the sound of feet thumping on the floor quickly. Max didn't have much time to guess who it was, though he already knew exactly who would be running to his room this time at night to check up on him. Plus, he's the only other person in this house aside from himself.
"Max! Are you alright?!" David exclaimed as the door slammed open. The counselor walked in, wearing a simple sleepwear, consisting of a white t-shirt and blue and white vertical striped pajama pants, having a messy bedhead, and holding a candle in one hand. Max assumed he must have found out they have no electricity, considering he was even holding the object in the first place. "Max, I heard yelling. Is everything alright," he asked worriedly, trying to get the boy's attention.
"I… I'm fine, David. I just poked my eye really hard while I was sleeping… and it hurt," he lied. He was actually thankful David showed up in the first place, but as much as he wanted the love and comfort from his adoptive father, he tells himself he doesn't want it nor need it, especially how he intruded on his sleep just now.
"Are you sure? Do you want me to put it under some ice? It should help with the pain."
"No. It's fine now. You can go and go back to sleep." Max turned away, waving his hand to tell him to leave, despite his mind shouting desperately otherwise.
David has known Max to lie about how he feels, especially times like this, when he's seeking for comfort, but instead of explicitly telling him he's scared, like he would've expected any ten-year-old to do, he tries to put on a brave face, hiding how terrified he actually was, and assures him he needs nothing from him, aside from maybe a glass of water to dry his throat.
The counselor turns to leave, but not before leaving him an assurance to let him know he's there. "Max, you know if anything is troubling you, or if you need something, anything at all, I'm here. Don't hesitate to ask." He then smiles to emphasize how much he means what he said.
However, beofre he got too far, he was called, "Um, David?"
"Yes, Max?" the counselor turned back around, facing the young boy.
Max immediately regretted this decision. He couldn't stop himself from saying anything, anything to keep him here, and for him to keep him safe. Just the mere thought of what he's about to ask seems not only embarrassing as can be, but really ridiculous in hindsight, even childish, regardless of being so himself. It may also seem selfish by keeping his adopted father here with him, preventing him from getting any kind of sleep at all, and after all he's done for him, trying not to be a burden was the least he could do.
The young boy wiped the latter thought out of his mind, thinking it was kind of silly to even think he was a burden, but he still felt it. He knows David would do anything for him, as he just said so himself. Otherwise, Max wouldn't even be in this house, but instead out in the streets, freezing and sleeping in the dumpster suffering from insomnia and troubling nightmares. No matter how many times he's tried to convince himself he's not a burden to David, he still has a small feeling that the counselor is being bothered my him. That feeling growing every so often shoud he think about the subject too much.
Getting back to the problem at hand, and David still waiting for a response of any kind, Max had decided to shove the conflicting thought in the back burner and ignore it for the sake of him getting any decent rest. "This is gonna sound stupid coming from me, but... could you stay here? Until I fall asleep?" He asked, no bitterness found in his tone of voice, but instead, feigned nonchalance and slight fear.
"Of course, kiddo," the counselor softly answered. It all made sense, now that he thought about it. He was completely unaware of what was going on at first, when Max screamed out a profanity so loud it woke him up in an instant, which did worry him nonetheless. Then upon seeing the young ten-year-old, he was shaking under the covers, despite his face being covered in sweat, and David even saw what appeared to be tears around his eyes. Until just now, he didn't realize how scared Max was, but of what he still has no idea, but didn't think about it too much as he walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, close to where Max was.
The young boy turned over, now facing away from the bedroom door, and closed his eyes, knowing now that there's someone there to comfort him when he feels frightened by the cruelness of nature.
"You know, Max." David began. "It's okay to be scared, and it's not ridiculous. Everyone's afraid of something." He paused again, expecting some sort of response, but received nothing. So he continued, "You can ask me for anything. That's why I'm here, and that's why I adopted you. To make sure you have everything you need, and for you to feel comfortable." He gently placed his hand on top of Max's head, to confirm his statements, and to let him know he means every word. "Just know that if you need anything at all, like I said, you can tell me. I won't mind a bit."
Those sincere words had indeed comforted the young boy a little bit, the burdening feeling fading away only slightly, but not entirely. It'll be a slow process to adjust to asking for help, whatever it was, as it will be the first time, in a long time, that Max will actually have a parental figure to look up to, and to take care of him, instead of having to rely on himself every day. As the saying goes: "Time heals all wounds." This wound, a deep emotional wound, may take as long as another ten years, maybe even longer, but someday, that wound will patch itself up, in time. In response to his adopted father's claims, while he can trust his words, he'll never admit to him directly. What he did alternatively was feign disbelief, and used his usual snarky tone, scoffed before simply saying "Whatever," before going back to sleep. With the slight touch of the counselor's hand atop his head, he knows he's protected from anything during his vunlerability.