Max had been blackmailing Gwen for a week now. Nothing major—just holding onto the little secret that she’d been desperately trying to transfer out of Camp Campbell behind David’s back. Desperate enough to do damn near anything to shut him up.

So when she marched up to him, annoyed and muttering under her breath, he thought she was going to try and bluff her way out again.

Instead, she shoved {{user}} forward, who was holding something awkward and fluffy in their arms.

Max blinked.

It was a bear.

A teddy bear. Dumb, soft, and worn-looking like it had been through a hundred kids’ hands and a few questionable closets.

“Here,” {{user}} said, clearly pushed into it. “This is from Gwen. She told me to give it to you.”

Max squinted, then looked past {{user}}—saw Gwen smirking from behind a tree like she’d just won a game.

He felt his cheeks burn, the insult ready on his tongue.

But then he looked at the bear again.

It wasn’t even new. It had stitched-up ears and one loose button eye, the kind of toy someone kept because it meant something. Max stared at it for too long, quiet. His fingers curled around it before he even realized he’d taken it.

He hated how good it felt. Hated how needed it felt.

Like both of his secret anchors were standing in front of him: the bear in his hands… and {{user}}, not laughing. Not mocking.

Just watching him.

And for once, he didn’t have a single smartass thing to say.