Put That Kid Down

Chapter Fifteen

When it was finally wrapped up - and she was right, it had been the worst - Gwen made her way back to the cabin, abandoning the kids to the Quartermaster for the evening instead of staying with them through dinner.

"It never ends," Max complained from David's room, holding David's pillow over his face while David was tapping away at his laptop on his desk. Neither of them so much as twitched at her entry, and Gwen wondered if that meant they didn't know she was here.

Carefully, she avoided the squeaky floorboards and settled herself just outside the room, between David's and her doors. Time for some judicious eavesdropping because even if Max was right, and Gwen didn't need to know if it wasn't hurting Max or breaking any laws, well... Gwen was really fucking annoyed - and a little embarrassed - that she'd wasted her time busting David's balls over the spawn of satan.

Especially when she thought back over the number of times David had nearly had her convinced he was as asexual and clueless about it as a tree. Yeah, she really should have kept that in mind.

Anyway, if whatever it was was something Max didn't want her to know... Gwen needed to find out to soothe her pride.

"I'm sorry, Max, no one's ever heard of anything like this before," David said, sounding sincere and a little desperate, "I really think I should talk to Harrison to see if he can help."

"I will not crawl back to that magical bastard!" Max exclaimed, then retched loudly, hiccupping afterwards and saying in a quieter voice, "Bag's full."

"Right," David said, and his chair scraped against the floor. There were footsteps, and the window opened. Gwen happened to know that that window was over the dumpster, facing a clearing. That was why she'd immediately claimed the other room when she'd first signed on. The window scraped against the frame again before David padded back across the room and sat.

"Harrison is a threat to this camp," Max muttered angrily after a short silence followed by another series of retching sounds that actually made Gwen feel a little sick, too.

"Max!" David sounded shocked, and his chair squeaked as if he'd turned it sharply - Gwen had left him the cool swivel chair as an unspoken trade for forcing him into the dumpster room when she'd moved in, so she just knew David had probably turned towards Max with some sort of puppy dog look of betrayal. For some reason.

"Yeah, whatever, it's not something to joke about, but I need to dump some of this misery onto someone else," Max said, sounding just as miserable as he claimed.

A sigh, footsteps, and the sound of the bed shifting.

If Max hadn't just reminded her this morning that it was David she'd been accusing, she would have jumped in right then, eavesdropping be damned.

"Look, kiddo," David's voice broke the silence that had followed, "I'm going to ask Harrison about it tomorrow whether you like it or not. It can't be healthy to be... you know, vomiting magician's props all day. Besides," his voice grew strident, more familiar than the odd, sincere softness with which he'd addressed Max, "I owe that rascal a talking to. My campers should not be hexing each other."

"...Fine, do what you want," Max said, and his voice was muffled. (1)

There were a few beats of silence, and then, "You probably shouldn't fall asleep here, Max."

"Fuck Gwen," Max muttered, still muffled.

"After Neil, I'm more surprised I didn't see it coming than that it happened." David sounded a little cross, sour almost, but he seemed to miss the fact that Max had used foul language. Or let it slide. "I'm sorry you had to deal with it, again. I'm not..." A huff at something Max muttered before David continued, "No, I don't want to lean on you, Max."