Chapter Text
Let it be known that Max would never willingly subject himself to being in the woods.
No, he was more than happy to leave that mosquito-infested hell to the people who were brain-damaged enough to enjoy shitting in the bushes, but that couldn’t just be the end of it, could it? No, no, of course not. The sick and twisted forces of the universe had to screw him over one demoralizing moment at a time.
“Don’t come back until it’s too damn dark outside to see your face.”
That’s what Pa said and that’s what he’d do if he didn’t want his ass handed to him.
Okay, so maybe he didn’t have to go into the woods. Maybe he and the zero dollars and zero cents to his name could kick it in town for a while until some concerned white woman decided he didn’t belong there and got the cops involved. Oh officer, that boy is far too young to be here without a parent- yeah and you’re too old to be wearing a shirt that tight but sometimes we mind our own! God, his town was a fucking nightmare. As much of a great next… eight? Eight hours until sundown that would be, Max would rather not get on his father’s shit list any more than he already had.
So this time wasn’t unlike any other time Max found himself cussing out each bramble as he stumbled through the woods behind his house. While nature was 90% only good for ticks and random itchy scrapes, there was a small allowance Max was willing to make for one thing: The food. He’d been doing this long enough to know that some of the shit just growing around didn’t taste half bad. When you took it out of context, he was really being an anti-capitalist forager, bringing down GMOs and inflation one free snack at a time.
But not by choice.
“Can't the natural insect population decline faster?” Max huffed, ducking to avoid the low-hanging spiderwebs that had cropped up. It’s like they were trying to live on the small path he had flattened for himself.
As he walked, a few fiddleheads caught his eye. They were only going to stay curled up for a week or two at most and then they’d be completely awful. Those things weren’t great raw, but he didn’t exactly have stove access. Hard pass. The baby ferns tasted like asparagus on a good day and there wasn’t a snowball's chance in hell he was going to eat those when he had options. The warm May this year had brought about the blueberries before the school year had even ended. Another point for global warming.
The trip wasn’t short by any means, but he had a day to kill off. The first time he’d explored the area, Max had made a shitload of markers out of sticks and things so he knew which way he came, but now Max was well seasoned. Fucked up looking trees and random boulders didn’t change much from season to season unless it was winter (and nothing grew in then, anyway). Regardless, he reached the wild blueberries without many issues aside from insects.
Max liked them because they were sweet and grew in small clumps on the bush. That being said, they had a decent size, so you didn’t have to eat a fistful at a time like the red currants. Sure, one would be a little sour or mushy, but no one could chastise him for spitting them out here. Being picky was the name of the game. He was free to spend the next hour or so snacking away with pink-tinged fingertips and Max was pleased to think he stood a chance at actually getting a substantial intake for once.
Until he heard the sound of disturbed undergrowth. Something big.
Oh shit.
His attention drew away from the berry bush, staggering slightly as he caught a dark shape moving inbound from his peripheral and whipped his head around to face it.
Black bear.
Max felt a headrush of adrenaline. The TV said to try and intimidate the animal, but that advice probably only applied to those who had the excess height to make it believable. No, a scrawny ten-year-old, wasn’t gonna be doing himself any favours by drawing confrontational attention. It was easy to talk enough shit for an adult to forget he was ten, but there was no way in hell that would work on a bear. The berries were good, but nothing worth dying screaming over.
Move slow. Back away slowly. Don’t run don’t run don’t run don’t rundon’trundon’t-
Yeah, fuck that.
Leaves swept across his forehead as he ducked under low branches and wove around tree trunks in his mad dash to get the hell out of there. His shoes pounded against the forest floor, barely avoiding roots and rocks that jutted out at odd angles in a petty attempt to trip him up. He was off the path now, but it was hardly his biggest concern compared to the actual bear behind him. It was hard enough drawing in another panicked breath and gathering the energy to keep sprinting.
Glancing behind, Max let out a colourful string of language detailing his appreciation of mother nature. He was by no means an athletic person, but surprisingly, the knowledge that the bear had picked up to a lope after him made that matter less. Honestly, knowing it was actually there made it so much worse. If he had a choice to keep running before, he didn’t now.
He couldn’t stop himself from looking again. To see if he was making good distance, to know if it was still there-
Max tripped.
In a singular horrifying moment of weightlessness, he realised one of his feet had clipped a fallen branch that blended in a little too well with the leaf litter. The ground met him harshly and with little regard for how badly it just fucked him over. The sleeves of his hoodie, once blue, now were smeared with dirt where his forearms cushioned the fall. It was a small gripe for someone about to be eaten, but he allowed it to annoy him nonetheless.
It took him seconds to scramble back to his feet. Precious, desperate seconds.
“Hey!” -A man’s voice- “Shoo! Shoo! Ya! Get outta here! Scram!”
The person attached to it stood a handful of yards away from Max. He was waving his hands erratically as he continued to yell- at the bear , Max now realized. And from the looks of things, it was working. The animal slowed down to rise on its hind legs, paws limp with confusion as it assessed the newer, louder variable to the equation before it dropped back down and took a few steps back. Random bush man made another hoot, a jarringly loud clap, and the fucking thing began to head the other way like it was fucking scared.
After a few more moments of continuing his pandemonium to make sure the thing was really gone, the man turned to look at Max with a worried expression, “Are you hurt? Didn’t your parents teach you not to run from a bear?”
Getting a better look at his saviour, Max took stock of his maple red hair, lanky stature, and generally outdoorsy getup. Even with all the earth tones in his clothing, the fluorescent yellow bandana around his neck made Max question how he hadn’t spotted The man sooner. If not that, then the height really was hard to miss… but he could only chalk it up to tunnel vision and a shitload of adrenaline. Maybe he looked like a tree in the right light?
“Kiddo…?”
Oh, Max should probably say something.
“Holy shit,” he breathed, taking a seat on the ground as he willed his heart to claw itself back down from his throat. It was the first thing that came to mind, so that was good enough.
The man’s eyebrows drew together in a wince, “Easy there… I need to know if you’re alright.”
The distance, while not much, was just enough to be awkward for conversation. And yet, the man made no move to come closer no matter how badly it looked like he wanted to. Most likely because they were strangers and he had it in his head that Max would be scared if he approached. It was weird, but Max sure as hell wasn’t going to show him otherwise. He stayed where he was, and so did the man.
“I’m fine,” he decided, already reeling in whatever part of him had the audacity to exhibit weakness to a stranger.
“Did you get separated from your parents? Your friends?”
Oh god, maybe he should have let the bear eat him, “No, but with all due respect-” which was admittedly some, but draining by the second, “I shouldn’t be talking to randos in the forest.”
“I don’t have to be?” he offered, “I’d appreciate it if you gave me your name.”
Call it oppositional defiant disorder, call it spite, call it whatever the fuck, but Max had never had a stronger gut feeling to spit in someone’s eyes for asking that.
Scoffing, Max fought down a harsher response to the man who saved him, “No thanks.”
“That’s a smart philosophy,” he smiled patronizingly (over poorly concealed disappointment), “But I’d at least like to know someone’s looking out for you before you just wander out into the brush.”
Standing, Max walked up to him with an excuse to leave unaccompanied in his mind. Whether or not it would have worked was left to be decided, as he noticed something that gave him pause. The lie he was going to say was quickly scrapped and forgotten when the shift in perspective made him realize that those ears were pointed. Not just like, ‘oh that’s some shitty genetics’ pointed, but the kind of pointed that just came fresh from comic con. Just a big old pair of elf ears on an otherwise completely normal dude.
Max squinted, “What are you, some kind of LARP-er?”
Someone in his class was super into that. Nerris wouldn’t be caught dead without their tacky silicone ears that were about a shade too light compared to their skin. Either there were just more options for white people or this guy had learned some eerie shade matching. Maybe both. Either way, they looked strangely more realistic than what he was used to. Maybe a body mod, then? That would explain a lot.
His eyes, ( green now that Max was close enough to see), grew vacant with that signature confusion of someone who wasn’t raised on the internet, “I can most positively assure you I am not a… whatever that is.”
It was too late, though. The cogs in Max’s head were already turning. Already beginning to pick apart the man in front of him. Bending to the scrutiny, the man nervously broke eye contact to glance down at something- Mushrooms. Rando forest dude was standing in a ring of fucking mushrooms. One more step forward and Max would have been, too.
One hell of a method actor.
Stupid as it was, he put a bit more space between them, “Thank fucking Christ. Just a pedophile, then.”
Maybe it wasn’t warranted to throw down a conversational molotov like that, but it was fast, to the point, and would give Max every excuse to bail on interacting with this particular brand of roleplayer. The reaction was instant.
“I’m not one of those, either!” The horror in his voice made him sound like a girl, Max was pleased to observe. His hands actually raised in surrender like he was at gunpoint.
“Sure you aren’t,” Max rolled his eyes, fighting a smile as he took a few more steps back.
“Kiddo, I’m not lying,” the man laughed, strained with panic. He walked to the edge of his little ring, but not past, “I- I mean, I physically can’t.”
Max should stop talking to the creep man. Logically, that’s the right thing to do. The mentally disturbed shouldn’t be confronted alone in the middle of the woods. Besides, Max had been repeatedly informed that he excelled in the art of ‘bringing out the worst in someone’. The worst of this stranger was yet to be determined and even if there weren't any obvious weapons either of them, it was far, far, from an even match.
And yet…
“Alright jackass, I’ll bite,” Max groaned, “Why can’t you lie? Did you drink a truth serum or something? Have the feds tapped your brain?”
It was too early to say that Max didn’t think crazy forest dude could hurt him. That being said, he couldn’t always help himself. There was leftover adrenaline in his system was still tingling at the tips of his fingers. Sue him if he wanted to let off steam and see if he could break this character.
“Hey, language,” the man’s expression creased, growing tighter as he leaned forward slightly… Like he was about to tell a secret, “No, kiddo. It’s nothing silly like that. I can’t lie because I’m a faerie.”
What. So that’s how this fucking was?
Max laughed. It was an unplanned, abrupt response to the connection his brain made “Good for you for reclaiming that, but gay people can still lie.”
It was an obvious misinterpretation. Max was actively trying to express that he didn’t need to be babbled to like a baby. He wasn’t interested in being guided out of the forest by Terrance from Pixie Hollow because some adult thought he couldn’t handle the truth. And holy shit, pretending to be some sunshine magical creature was actively more suspicious than a regular well-meaning dude with a stupid ear surgery he got in college.
“Gay as in happy?”
His eyebrows drew together, “No, gay as in gay- Seriously, what kind of rock do you live under?”
The ‘fairy’ seemed almost as lost as he was on this one, “…Well, I’ll admit I haven't had a lengthy human conversation in a…” he trailed off, wincing slightly before he apparently gave up on his train of thought, “Well, a real long time.”
There was committing to the bit, and then there was whatever this was. Did he think speaking in riddles was going to make Max forget he’d just been chased by a wild animal? Most people would have the decent sense to make themselves seem more trustworthy after that. Not… not whatever the hell this was. Maybe it was the straight face he used to say ‘human conversations’, but what in the actual fuck?
“Are you like… tripping balls or something?” Max asked, point blank.
The man smiled at him, warm confusion on his features.
It was maddening. No, more than that, it dashed whatever rickety argument he had built that this guy was okay in the head. They were back to square one again.
“Early onset? What is wrong with you?”
“I’m afraid some kind of language barrier has appeared since I’ve last interacted with the human race.”
What was with the human bullshit?- Max was going to get an ulcer trying to understand this, “Alright, what exactly do you think you are?”
“A faerie.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Okay. Okay, maybe it was just sad at this point. Max should fuck off. The way that dude seemed, well, normal enough made it easy for it to feel like he was just lying. There was no aggression, no offence, no twitchiness of an adult restricting the impulse to strike a child, but he was a little too good at playing dumb for comfort. There was a difference from being an asshole to a Disney adult and someone who legitimately wasn’t in touch.
Observing Max’s long bout of silence, “I don’t see what’s so difficult to understand? You seem to be well educated in fae rules, I mean, you’ve been cautious with your name, haven’t you?”
“My name?” Max made a connection, “Alright so you think you’re like, the Rumpelstiltskin kind of fairy-“
“Faerie,” He insisted, stressing the ‘ae’ sound.
“Got it,” Max released a forced, incredulous laugh, “Well, when I come across some princess that needs parenting I’ll let you know.”
For once, the manic pixie woodsman got the memo, “You… don’t believe me?”
“Bingo!” he grinned, orienting himself to face where he’d come from, “You have a nice life.”
When having to choose between being in the woods with a bear or a man… Max would take his chances with the decidedly more flighty animal. Who knew? Hopefully it associated him with the other guy and wouldn’t give him trouble if they crossed paths again. Even that was a slim chance considering Max wanted to go straight out of the woods without delay. He needed to touch the pavement for a bit. Whatever the opposite of nature was.
“Hey, now,” some form of panic rose his voice a note, “Did you not see the bear go that way?”
Max didn’t turn around, beginning his trek back. “It’s a free country.”
“Wha- Why?”
It would be a lie to say there was no apprehension under his skin. Every step away from another person revived old adrenaline and kept him more vigilant than he was earlier this morning. But the man’s calls would fall on deaf ears so long as Max wasn’t being actively hunted. That was part of it, too. He tried getting Max’s attention a few more times, but ultimately was still committed to staying inside that mushroom circle. Another red flag, but at least it worked to his benefit.
Getting back onto his usual path was a cut and dry task. Sure there was some weaving involved, but ‘away’ was a straight direction from where he’d been. As simple as that. Any minute now, all of these unremarkable logs and identical trees would give way to a landmark. He was still in the cardinal direction of home last he checked, so the worst case scenario was coming out somewhere a bit off from where he usually walked.
…Sooner or later.
Regardless of if he was a little off, Max knew for a fact there was a stream that cut across the neck of the woods nearest to the road. It was more or less an indicator that he was almost out. And yet, his gut feeling that he’d been walking for long enough never paid off with the sound of water.
Max pushed past another dense area, holding aside a scraggly sapling and-
Stopped dead in his tracks.
That was not the familiarity he was asking for.
Somehow- Some way, even though he was sure he never doubled back on himself once, Max was back. Max was fucking back here somehow. There was the man- just through the gaps in a few pines Max could see him. And the weirdest fucking part was that he was being stared at in return. It gave the distinct impression that he was a deer in headlights, dealing with the confrontation of something he had no evolution for understanding.
Hell. Fucking. No.
He set off into the woods again, unnerved but fine. This was fine. The sun was still in the middle of the sky enough that it was easy to assume he’d just fucked up his navigation somewhere along the line and didn’t notice. Shit happens. It was kind of embarrassing to turn up after being so insistent on leaving, but he’d rather not think of the fact that the man was still… there. Mushroom circle and all.
Pressing onward, the next dozen minutes or so were spent referencing the direction every five seconds-
Max knew those fucking trees. If not that, then it was the way a patch of sunlight caught hold of such a distinct shade of red.
How the fuck was this happening?
This time, he ran before he could make eye contact, making it a far way until the trees were safely unrecognizable before he stopped to rest. There was a particular line of logic that was breaking down here. The kind that made Max sit on a log and really stare at the sticks and leaves on the ground while he tried to make heads or tails of what was going on.
Was he being stalked? Maybe? That was the reasonable assumption. But then again… How did that dude get ahead of him without any indication beforehand? How did he always find a convenient circle of red caps and a shit ton of identical trees to surround himself with? No, no, the fucker clearly wasn’t moving. Trees didn’t get up and follow you somewhere- But then what was happening? What the fuck was happening?
Max made it even less far the next time.
And the next.
Eventually, he snapped and refused to turn around again when he knew for certain it wasn’t him that was fucking this up. He worked up the nerve to approach the man and his shitty fucking chunk of forest with a burning sense of anger that ate through most of his caution. He may not know what was going on in a logical sense, but he damn well knew who was fucking with him.
“Back so soo-”
Max picked up a stick off the ground and chucked it at him, “Leave me the fuck alone!”
Sadly, it was off course, but the following noise of fear as woods creep flinched anyway brought him some reprieve, “Hey- Language! I just want to talk!”
“Then talk, motherfucker!” Max demanded, picking up another stick as a threat, “How the hell did you do that?”
“You… You know I’m gonna say magic, right?” he asked, nearly apologetically as he eyed Max’s improv weapon, “Do you believe me now?”
Most of the times he wished he still believed in things like the tooth fairy or Santa Claus was only a side effect of wishing his parents cared enough to sell it to him. Whatever loathing he had for tacky white people shit was definitely there, but he could still imagine how all of that effort would be nice. Now? Max wished he’d been fed more of that crap so the reality of some magical woodland sprite was less immediately concerning.
“I think I liked it better when you were the crazy one,” Max muttered, squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them. The man was still there.
“Hey,” he said, looking at Max with a soft, but weighted eye contact, “This is real. You’re alright, kiddo. Can you tell me your name?”
Max shook his head, making a sweeping gesture as he tried to recall what the man had said about names before, “No. Well, it’s not like I believe any this, but you seem fucking hung up on it enough that I’m not telling you.”
“You really like your choice words, don’t you?” he laughed, strained, “And I can see that, but you’re really overthinking all this. Do I look that scary?”
“This is stupid!” Max scrubbed his face, angrier to see that he was still very much in the forest, “Just… screw off and stop doing whatever you’re doing to trip me up.”
“So you believe I’m doing something?”
Five dimensional chess was not what he was looking for when he decided to go into the woods. Max didn’t believe in magic. He didn’t. He was too fucking old for that. But the argument that he was thinking too much rang true. The basic facts were that the man was somehow impeding him from going somewhere, or stalking him, and wasn’t denying that he was doing so. The few things Max did know were that he was capable of conversing and somehow cared about how much of a good person Max thought he was.
Pointing an accusing finger, the spinning tires in his head caught traction, “Yes. Yes, and I have places to be. So are we done here? Because the story of a kid and a strange man in the woods never went too well for my side of the police report, and you’re sketchy as hell.”
“I um, understand how you could interpret it like that -and I am in no way discounting your experience-, but I, uh, I’m not keeping you here- well I was, but not anymore?.”
“Good,” Max huffed, playing it up just a bit, “My parents are probably tearing up the floors looking for me, since I wasn’t home for lunch,” Yeah right, “So don’t fucking try anything.”
Something faltered at that. The man’s face shifted, surprised enough that Max thought his affronts were working…
“You don’t have to lie.”
Oh. Okay what the fuck?
“I wasn’t lying!”
It was woods creep’s turn to seem exasperated. The sight would have been rewarding had it not stemmed from the fact that he could see straight through him. That kind of complete visibility made him want to cringe deeper into his hoodie. Max was a good liar. He didn’t do microexpressions or tells like most people. Everything about this day was a shit show. Nothing made any damn sense.
“Whatever,” Max scoffed, stepping away. Part of him was worried he’d wind up right back there again, but that was a bridge he’d have to get to, “Just keep your word.”
With a nod, the man saluted him with a clipped smile, “Scout’s honour.”
The entire walk back had him constantly triple checking his location, progress, and general gauge of his surroundings. Even when Max stumbled back onto his path and felt the entirely artificial sense of safety, he still looked out for red mushrooms and spatially impossible landmarks.
There were none. No mushroom rings or men or bears. Hearing sounds of cars begin to cut through the nature ambience had never been so welcome to him.