Breathe || Max X Reader - Camp Camp

XV

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TRIGGER WARNING
This chapter does contain brief hints of suicide and heavy discussion of physical abuse and parental neglect. Scroll to the Author's Note for a brief and non-descriptive, friendly recap of this chapter.
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Y/N's POV
Word Count: 1,696

     I couldn't believe I even had my hands on this boy. He just beat up one of the nicest people I knew single-handedly. He bloodied him. And here I am, falling back into the habit of trying to comfort him. But I was too afraid to let go. What if he beats me up next? The only logical thing to do was to ask him. "C-Can I let go o-of you?", I asked through two sharp breaths.
     "Don't.", was all that he said.
     I didn't know what that meant, but I honored it. My face was so hot. In fact, my entire body was hot. And I couldn't stop accidentally tasting my salty tears. I just wanted this broken boy to feel better. But I didn't want to hurt myself in the process. How can I get out of this? Neil is gone, he'll be okay. I just have to trust that he went to see David. I balled my fists and clenched them hard. My breathing grew louder.
     Max put his hands on mine. Finger by finger, he started spreading my hand out. He massaged them until my muscles relaxed. And then he did it to the other hand. I had to ignore it. I had thinking to do. If I run away now, he won't be able to catch me and hurt me for breaking the fight. He intertwined his fingers with mine. It doesn't mean anything. "I'm sorry," he whispered. If I just let go and pull away quickly, he'll be too taken aback to react quick enough to catch me. I can run into the woods. Or I can go to Preston.
     "I'm so sorry!", Max cried. His chest started convulsing. He was sobbing. He's never cried before. "Please! I'm so fucking sorry!" I can't do this. I can't leave him. I can't do it and live with myself. I couldn't make a choice. So I cried with him for a minute. Just let go, Y/N. You know that's your first step. That's what we've gotta' do. Let go.
     In one not-so-swift motion, I released my grip. I turned around to bolt the other way, but I stopped myself. I tried to run out, but my feet wouldn't move. I wasn't strong enough to do it. I couldn't leave the situation.
     I fell to the ground. I balled myself up into a fetal position and buried my face in my arms which were rested upon knees. I was sweating. I heard Max crouching down beside me. I was shaking. I was so scared that he might try to hurt me.
He didn't. He found my forehead and pushed it up. I met his eyes. They were red and puffy. The arms of his hoodie were stained with tears. The corners of his lips kept twitching. Max moved his trembling hands to mine. And once again, he just held them.
"I wish I could just make it all go away.", he whispered. The tears in his eyes were sincere. I couldn't just run away. It wouldn't be right.
I ran my thumbs along the back of his hands as I held them. They were damp. "Make what go away?", I asked. My throat was tight.
Max swallowed. "Everything. All of it.", he answered. "I don't want to do this anymore."
I had no idea what to say. He'd just given up. On everything. Life. What could I do about that? "Max, you can't just tap out. That's not how this works.", I choked out. I didn't want to say "life", I had to say "this". "Max, I-I can get you through whatever is b-bother you. But, I...I don't know. Forget it."
What was the use of starting the cycle again? The cycle of love and hate, over and over? Why would I continue to pursue that? "Y/N, please just fucking forgive me. Please.", he begged.
I wanted to help him, but I couldn't forgive him. I couldn't let go of everything he's done to me. But, at the same time, I wanted more of it so badly. "Why did you hurt Neil?", I questioned. Before I even considered forgiving him, I needed to know this.
"I don't know," Max murmured. "I needed to."
"Then why did you need to?"
"I don't fucking know!", Max screamed. He squeezed my hands. He dug his nails into them. My eyes widened. "Do I look like fucking Houdini? You little shit!" He squeezed even harder. The pain was annoying, sharp, and radiating.
In that moment, I feared my safety. I sobbed and wailed as loudly as I possibly could. "Don't touch me! Don't touch me!", I pleaded. "Please! Don't hurt me!"
Max's expression changed. He immediately let go of me. He backed to the other corner of the room. His jaw had dropped open. He stared at his hands. "I-I don't know what happened.", Max insisted.
I had to leave. I had to leave, or he would hurt me again. This was way out of hand. I looked at my hands. Oh my God. My mouth opened wide. I was bleeding. Not a lot. But it was the fact that Max did it that scared me.
The boy was wigging out. He was frantically searching through cabinets. Finally, he pulled out gauze and ran to me. My eyes widened as I stuck out my hands. "Please! Stay away from me! Don't touch me!", I demanded. He sat down where he was, and he put his hands in his lap. He stayed put.
The gauze was placed in front of me. "Then do it yourself. I'm not leaving until your hands are wrapped.", he told me. I didn't do it because he said so, I did it because I would have anyway. I started layering the gauze around my hands. All they needed was a band-aid, but in the moment we blew everything out of proportion. "I-I have to answer something you said a long time ago. Do you remember the first week of camp? You, well, you said something about my parents. Some shit sort of like, 'well they must not be very nice people'?" I already knew where this was going, but I prayed I was wrong. "Well, they aren't great. They're real asses. They hurt me. Sometimes, I, um, I end up with bruises. Sometimes I, uh, well I get scars too." He rolled up his jeans. A few inches above his ankle rested a small cut. I froze. "A metal strainer. The bitch was cooking. It was hot, she used it right before she threw it at me. It burnt me." Tears began running down my cheeks. This wasn't fair. "I ran away the night it happened to get to the hospital. They wouldn't take me, so I took myself. And then she did it again because I tried to heal it. That's the aftermath."
I was frowning. My vision was clouded by my tears. "I-I'm so sorry, Max.", was all I could get out. I embraced him. My grip was as tight as I could manage. "You didn't deserve it. You know that, don't you?" He didn't answer me. I sobbed even harder. The back of my throat was raw from all of the crying I had been doing. "M-Max, I care about you so much. I'm so sorry that your parents don't, b-but I do. There are people who do. David does. So many people love you. You know that, right?" Still no answer.
Max wrapped his arms around me. "It's okay," he sobbed. "I'll make sure you're okay." Why is it me who he's worried about? What about him? "It's just hard, so fucking hard. I just want to laugh at something. Or smile, or some shit. B-But I can't. But sometimes you make me smile."
That was truly the weirdest compliment I've ever gotten. And it was the kindest. I really couldn't top it. I really couldn't tell him how much I cared. I could show him, though.
I quickly pecked him on the cheek. His skin was salty, but I paid no mind to it. "That's all?", he jested. "You little shit." Through those tears, he laughed. Max playfully pinned me to the ground, and then I started laughing too.
For a little while, we sort of just stayed like that. He laid down beside me, and we just laughed for a little bit, because we had to. We had to laugh. It was the only real answer.
I laid my head on his chest and wrapped an arm around his stomach. I listened to his heartbeat and closed my eyes.
I drifted off to the rhythmic tune of his pulse. He broke my daze with a soft peck on the lips. "I love you so fucking much." And then I was out.
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A/N - To recap, you are afraid of Max possibly hurting you after he hurts Neil. Max confessed to you that he feels dangerous towards himself and finds it hard to pull through day-to-day and seeks help to find that will again. Soon after you make a lousy attempt to comfort him, he also speaks out about how his parents treats him and tells you a story of how his mother had harmed him. He showed you a marking of that day on his leg as proof. He talks about how he wishes he could smile and laugh and how you fulfill that. You find it sweet and it leads you to kiss him. Eventually you end up laughing in the last few paragraphs with him and fall asleep on his chest. Things end on a happy and sweet note with a kiss. ☁️

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