#alas if max had a better vocabulary all this could've been avoided

[vickyvicarious]

max and the misunderstanding (bmw 6)

bullymagnet week, day six: the festival/fair

read day one, day two, day three, day four, and day five first. also available on AO3.

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“We’ll have to split up into pairs to cover all the possible locations,” Spender muses in his deep, dramatic mission-planning voice. At least he’s not talking to the window or standing in front of a fan so his jacket billows out this time. “I don’t want to leave anyone alone in the face of this threat…”

“Great,” Isaac grumbles, “so who’m I with, Isabel, Ed, or you?”

“Well, Isabel, but you don’t have to ask like that.” Spender sounds mildly affronted. “Unless you actually want to go with Johnny again.”

“No thanks. Our philosophies clash,” he replies a little sourly. Looking over at Max, he half-smiles. “At least you can handle him.”

“Uh,” says Max, who is unaware that he’s ever been truly successful at curbing Johnny’s Johnny-ness. It’s been a few weeks since he came into his spectral powers, and even though he hasn’t officially joined the club he’ll help out from time to time – but while none of those times have ended in terrible failure yet, any word other than ‘chaos’ would still be a misnomer. “I can?”

“Can’t I?” Ed jumps in before anyone can answer that genuine question. “I beat him up once and we bonded, you know.”

“Face it pal, even if that did really happen it’s not like it’s ever stops him from destroying everything when you fight together,” Isabel grins, affectionately punching him on the shoulder and causing him to stumble back a step.

Max reflects, not for the first time, that Isabel could probably beat up Johnny if she wanted, even without spectral powers involved. Alas, organizing a grudge match is not the order of business today, no matter how much he’d love to see it (Johnny) go down.

“Look, Isaac said no, Ed can’t control him at all, Isabel I’m a little afraid what would happen,” Spender breezes through that last one extra-quick, “and I just… don’t want to. Max, you’re with Johnny on this one. He won’t say no to you anyway so it all works out.”

“He says no to me all the time,” Max says, flashing back to the fifteen minutes spent yesterday having a shouting match over who could have the last tube of red paint in art. The confrontation ended with Johnny pinning Max’s head to the floor with a foot as he used up the entire tube purely out of spite even though it covered his whole canvas.

For some reason though, everyone seems amused by this claim. Isaac blatantly laughs.

“Sure,” he says, grinning like he knows something Max doesn’t. “Ask him to the fair. He’ll definitely refuse you.”

“Whhhhhhhhhhh,” Johnny says, when Max asks him to the fair. “Whhhhut. W-who me.”

“Yes. And, um, not these guys,” Max says somewhat rudely, since if he doesn’t spell it out Johnny will definitely bring all his friends along. “Just you and me.”

“WITH YOU. ME. FAIR. WHAT.”

Behind Johnny, RJ collapses foaming at the mouth. Stephen falls to the ground to shake them, shouting pleas for their survival.

“Are you, uh, sick or something?” Max asks. “You’re super red and making no sense.”

Johnny spins to Ollie.

“AM I SICK, DUDE?” he roars in what appears to be panic. “’M I HALLUCINATING?”

Ollie leans in, squints at Johnny, feels his forehead, then inexplicably turns to Max, poking him several times and then tweaking his nose.

“Nope,” he tells Johnny, and claps a hand onto his shoulder, staring deep into his eyes. “It’s Code Twitterpate.”

Johnny takes a deep breath at this. He slowly turns back to Max.

“S-sure,” he says, voice startlingly soft. “Um. Yeah. Okay.”

“Cool,” Max says. “I’ll meet you at the West Entrance around noon?”

“Y-yeah,” Johnny nods, still using that really really gentle voice. Ollie is beaming down at both of them like some kind of proud parent.

“…..See you then then,” Max says, and walks off quickly. After a minute, his phone buzzes.

[How’d it go?] Isaac asks.

[Once you parse through the crazy, he just really likes the fair I think.]

Isaac sends back a string of laughing-and-crying emoticons, then refuses to explain what’s so funny.

When Max arrives at the fair’s West Entrance at approximately noon-fifteen the next day, he is immediately accosted by a vigorous noogie from his partner for the day.

“That’s for bein’ late,” Johnny says smugly, as Max pretends to himself the tears in his eyes are only from the bright sunshine. Ow. Ow. Ow.

“Sorry, geez,” he says, rubbing cautiously at his head. “I had to ditch Zoey. My dad wanted me to bring her too, but I mean that wasn’t happening.”

“I like Zoey,” Johnny reminds Max, as though he doesn’t regularly wake in a cold sweat over that very fact.

“So do I but do you really wanna bring her along today?” he asks, instead of showing his fear. Johnny blinks, then grins widely.

“Nah,” he says brightly. “I think we’re good as-is.”

“Yeah, good,” Max repeats, sounding a little dumb even to himself, but he’s kind of distracted by Johnny’s smile. It is just… so happy. Does he really like the fair that much, or is it just the prospect of beating up a spirit?

Maybe it’s the combination of fair and spirit?

“Here, I’ll uh, I’ll pay.” Max stumbles forward to buy their tickets with the money Spender handed out yesterday. Johnny makes a small choking sound in the back of his throat but doesn’t protest. He grips his ticket really hard when Max hands it to him.

“Right, so, we’re by the fairgrounds with all the rigged games,” he says as they walk into the fair, studying his trisected map. Ed called the rollercoasters right away, making all the blood drain from Spender’s face. At least Max managed to jump in fast enough to get the carnie games and haunted house instead of the area with the ferris wheel and carousel, that would’ve been super boring. “Do you wanna–PFLGMH.”

“Got some cotton candy,” Johnny explains, unnecessarily since about half of it is currently blocking Max’s airways. He never even knew that was possible with something that melts so fast. “Here, ‘s for you.”

“Gee, thanks being so attentive,” Max snarks after he manages to stop choking, but the sarcasm appears to fly over Johnny’s head as he just grins a little wider and takes a bite of his own cotton candy.

Well, whatever. Max is always willing to appreciate terrible food that’s bigger than his face. He accepts his and continues munching on it as they start off down the fairway, meandering around to avoid spirits and ghosts mixed in with the crowd.

“I was gonna say, do you want to try and actually win anything? I know we’re supposed to check them out but I kind of don’t want to waste money on something no one can win anyway.”

Johnny scoffs. “I can win ‘em. Do every year.”

“You’re lying,” Max says immediately. “Or cheating. Nope, lying.”

Johnny’s chest puffs up, and he turns his head to grin one of his sharktooth grins at Max.

“Sometimes I forget ya ain’t been around forever, but then you say somethin’ dumb like that,” he says fondly. Max is considering getting offended, but Johnny looks so happy at the chance to brag that he decides to let the insult slide this time. “You, new kid, are lookin’ at the King of the Carnival!”

“This is America,” Max deadpans.

Johnny just laughs, and dashes off to the nearest booth – one of those shooting galleries where you have to knock over the bottles. The guy behind the desk gets a very intense look on his face as soon as they approach.

“Jhonny,” he snaps. “Y-you won’t beat me this year! I’ve fixed every flaw!”

“So... you’re admitting to rigging the game, then?” Max asks.

“Wh- no! This is a game of skill, and anyone could win a fantastic prize!” the guy shouts with a big grin… then leans across the counter and snarls, “But between you’n’me kid, you’re going DOWN.”

Johnny looks up at the prizes hanging from the roof.

“Max,” he says confidently. “I’m gonna win ya a tiger.”

He – he does. Actually, really quickly, and Max is gifted a tiger bigger than himself by the crying carnie. He holds it awkwardly, unsure what to do with it and also still kind of stunned, frankly.

“Okay, that was actually really impressive,” he’s forced to admit. He’s tried his hand at these games before and never won one of the big prizes, even after reading How To Cheat A Cheat: Tips of an Ex-Carnie at the library.

Johnny flushes, grinning proudly.

“Jus’, just wait,” he kind of splutters, and then next thing Max knows they’re making their way down the row, challenging every game and decimating them all. It’s surprisingly fun, just watching Johnny go – he’s super into it, and keeps glancing up to make sure Max is watching, sending him these little grins and waiting expectantly for praise every time he dominates another challenge. It’s kind of hilarious, all these carnie guys are recognizing Johnny and getting all fired up to defeat him, but he doesn’t pay them any attention, too busy showing off. This one guy doesn’t even get to finish his rival monologue before Johnny’s popped all the balloons on the back wall and is shoving a stuffed elephant into Max’s (very full by this point) arms.

He even claims to have a technique for the Wheel of Fortune, which Max would normally scoff at, but by this point he just accepts the bragging as fact – a move justified when Johnny does, in fact, win on his first spin. By the time they arrive at the other end of the track, Max is exhausted just from dragging around the loot Johnny’s dumped on him, let alone the hours under the hot sun.

“All right, break time,” he huffs, dropping everything onto a luckily empty table. “Siddown your majesty, you deserve a funnel cake after all of that.”

Johnny plops down, grinning ear to ear, and he looks so proud of himself, obviously just having the time of his life. Max is really… really endeared by that expression for some reason, there’s just something about the sight of Johnny sitting there in his ‘like a boss’ shirt surrounded by stuffed animals, a dragon painted on his face, grinning up at the sky.

On a whim, he whips out his phone and takes a picture. Johnny blinks, losing the grin, and Max smirks.

“Got a new picture for my contacts,” he says, wagging his phone at his friend. Johnny’s cheeks go pink, and Max walks off to get the food before he can retort. On the way, he exchanges texts with the rest of club, reporting their lack of progress and confirming that so far everyone else is in the same boat. Though Spender has apparently vomited twice already, and Isabel made Isaac get his caricature then hurt herself laughing, which means that for once Max’s team is the only uninjured one, so far anyway.

When Max returns with the funnel cakes, sodas, and hot dogs, he’s ambushed by a heavy arm dropping around his shoulder. Johnny drags him into his side until their cheeks are pressed together, commands him to smile, then blinds him with his flash, all while Max is still struggling not to drop the food. Afterwards, he grins at Max, holding up his phone.

“Me too,” he says, and Max feels warm all over.

They really need to get under some shade at some point before he fries like an egg.

After they eat, Max points out the funhouse stuff – the haunted house comes first, of course, and he and Johnny step in together with all the confidence of preteens who have seen multiple movies they weren’t supposed to be old enough for yet. Though, Max doesn’t really have to sneak that much usually, his dad just tends to forget that ratings are a thing and invites him in to watch whatever. He kind of envies Johnny for getting to choose which stuff to smuggle in and watch in secret with his friends; it sounds a lot more fun than watching movies with his dad suddenly saying “oops” and covering his eyes at key moments while shouting off-key lullabies.

…Anyway. Max is kind of expecting the haunted house to be where the spirit finally jumps out at them. It’s kind of cliché, for an evil ghost to be in a haunted house, but those exist for a reason, right? He’s also kind of expecting to get told to leave his tool outside, because somebody bringing a baseball bat into a haunted house is just a recipe for disaster. Max and Isabel’s larger tools getting confiscated on rides and stuff is even the fake reason Spender made up after the fact for why they both needed to be paired with mediums today.

In the end though, both expectations are proven false. Max abandons his gigantic pile of stuffed animals outside, kind of secretly hoping they’ll get stolen because he’s tired of carrying them around, but the bored teenager at the door doesn’t seem to notice or care about the baseball bat sticking out of his backpack. And then once they’re inside, it’s darkish, and there are a lot of spooky noises, but it’s not actually that scary because the spirits that are everywhere in Mayview serve as kind of natural nightlights, making it really easy for spectrals to see the shoddy setup and the bored employees. The grudge they’re looking for isn’t around, and the closest Max comes to actually being scared is when he trips on the step going outside at the end and nearly falls on his face.

Normally Max would be majorly disappointed by something like this, but Johnny spends the whole trip through grumbling about not getting to reflexively punch the jump-scare staff in the face like he apparently normally does. Seeing them beforehand, he complains very seriously as Max attempts not to snicker too loudly, takes all the fun out of it.

“Th’ haunted house is supposed to hone my sick senses,” Johnny is still complaining as they step outside.

“Yeah, I can see the lack of spooks really has you aghost,” Max agrees.

“My spirits ‘re low,” Johnny admits, stepping over a line of small things that look like duck/toothbrush hybrids. He narrows his eyes pointedly at Max’s bat. “But I’m not gonna hold a grudge about it.”

Max laughs, breaking first. Normally he can go longer punning against Johnny, but right now he’s just in a really good mood, okay, so he settles for just kind of elbowing Johnny’s side. This devolves immediately into an elbowing match all the way over to the pile of fairground prizes, which Max is dismayed to see have not been stolen. Where is the rampant crime he was promised as part of the fairground experience?

“I can’t take all of these home,” he says, ignoring Johnny’s betrayed little noise. “This is way too much. Do you want ‘em?”

“I got those for you,” Johnny complains. Then clears his throat and says, “Uh, I mean, I got like a million already anyway. Just keep ‘em.”

“No way, these are all donation-bound.” Max glances over at Johnny and instantly regrets it; his expression is practically the definition of quiet disappointment. It’s even worse that it’s quiet, somehow. He looks hurt, which just isn’t fair at all.

“…Fine, whatever,” he mumbles.

“–Except Skullcruncher, of course,” Max blurts, then grabs at the first prize of the day. He instantly regrets choosing the gihuge tiger when he thinks about transporting this home, but it is the one Johnny actually promised to win for him and it’s kind of cool-looking, so. “Oh, and uh, something for Zoey. The weird donkey thing, I guess.”

“Nah, she’ll like the octopus better,” Johnny says. He’s correct. He’s also grinning, trying to hide it by stooping down to pull out the chosen toys from the pile, and for some reason him ducking his head and smiling into his shoulder as he hoists a five and a half foot tiger over it makes Max want to hug him, or ruffle his hair or something.

“R-right,” he says instead, snatching up the octopus and trying to hide his own smile for reasons he’s not entirely sure of. “A-anyway, uh, on to the hall of mirrors?”

It’s quiet and cool inside. Johnny’s quiet too, in that peaceful way he sometimes gets. He’s not the type of person you’d expect to be able to just be quiet with, but Max has noticed it happening on a fairly frequent basis when they’re alone together. He feels comfortable now, just like he always does when this happens, relaxed after a fun afternoon at the fair, and while the mirror house isn’t that exciting really, at least it’s not crowded.

He’s making faces into an eternity of reflections when he notices gray out of the corner of his eye. Half-turning allows him to see Johnny standing just behind him through another mirror. Something’s going on, but it looks to be all in his mind ‘cause Max can’t see any spectral reason for him to be emitting smoke. He looks like he’s in the middle of talking to his spirit, because he’s twitching pretty quickly in place, but of course that’s over in a couple of seconds.

When he emerges, it’s with a firm expression. He takes a deep breath, nods once to himself, then reaches forward, beyond the edge of the mirror Max is watching through. He’s not sure what Johnny’s trying to do; a second later he feels fingers brush against his hand, but at the same moment his phone buzzes, startling him, and he pulls it out to check his messages.

“Oh, hey! Isaac and Isabel got the spirit! Turns out it was in the ferris wheel watching the sunset and they surprised it from behind, talk about boring,” Max says. He looks up, laughing a little. “I kinda forgot that we were even here on a mission for a minute–”

He stops.

Johnny is staring at him, eyes wide, hand outstretched. Slowly, red spreads across his entire face. He drops his hand. He also drops Skullcrusher.

“I,” he says, and blinks several times. His voice is all croaky. “Um. I gotta go-”

Johnny spins around and bolts out of the room, crashing into four mirror walls on the way out. Max is left staring after him, completely confused. Somehow, he doubts that it’s Johnny’s bladder suddenly bothering him so much, a theory supported by the kid’s complete absence once Max finally makes it out of the mirror hall, but he doesn’t really know what else could be bothering Johnny so much.

When, after stalking the porta-potties for ten minutes, it becomes clear that Johnny really has ditched him, Max ends up convening with the rest of the Activity Club to catch a ride home from Spender, ending up smushed in the middle of the backseat between Isaac and Ed, and underneath Skullcrusher. He texts Johnny during the drive, asking what’s wrong, but there’s no answer.

“What’s going on?” Isaac asks quietly, nudging him.

Max isn’t sure what to say. He was having a great time all day, and he’s pretty sure Johnny had been too. Right up until that very last second, after talking to – oh.

“I think Forge said something that bothered Johnny,” he mumbles back, extra quiet since Spender is weird about Johnny’s spectral hitchhiker. “He got all red all of a sudden and just left, and now he’s not answering my texts.”

“Ah,” Isaac says wisely. “Ahhhhh. I see.”

“We all do, it’s not exactly subtle,” Ed interjects. Isaac ignores him.

Instead, he claps a hand on Max’s shoulder, smiling wisely down at him.

“Johnny will be okay,” he promises. “And Max, you’ll understand some day… when you’re older.”

“You’re thirteen shut up,” Max retorts, and sinks down into his seat to grump in peace since no one else is being helpful.

[Seriously, you okay?] he types, then doesn’t close the phone. Keeps staring at that picture of the King of the Carnival, smiling so wide.