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It was late, nearly dark in fact, when Bradley finally made his way towards the gravesite. He’d waited all day, just in case Mav— Mitchell decided to visit the cemetery as well. The last thing he wanted was to run across him . Not today of all days. Not when he’d finally started to move past everything.
It had taken Slider nearly the entirety of the last three months to beat it into his thick head that it wasn’t about doubting his ability. That Mav and Ice, that his parents for all intents and purposes, hadn’t thought he was a failure. Bradley had even managed to have several dinners with Ice in the past few weeks, resolidifying him as ‘Pops’ in his life. Things were getting better , but he wasn’t ready yet. He wasn’t ready for the whirlwind that was Maverick to come flying in and upset the delicate balance he’d finally reestablished.
And he would.
Seeing Maverick, seeing his Dad , would absolutely rock Bradley. He’d want answers, he’d need them. And if Maverick denied him them again, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. How would he move past that?
No. It was easier this way. At least for now. Keep the distance, learn to accept his new reality… he had a plan.
For the most part, Bradley was pretty sure his uncle supported that plan too. It was Slider that had offered him a place to stay while he figured things out after all. Well, borderline kidnapped him until he agreed to stay, really but—
And yet the last few days, Bradley had begun to wonder if his uncle still felt that way. Slider had been watching him in a weird, almost sad way when he thought he wasn’t looking. He’d taken all of his calls closed in his office too, even though Bradley knew several of them had been from Ice. All of it pointed to a possible resurgence of Maverick .
He hadn’t seen the pilot since he’d stormed out of the house. He hadn’t—
Bradley sighed, sliding out of the bronco. He hadn’t heard from him, hadn’t hugged him, hadn’t even caught a glimpse of him. It had been years since he went that long without seeing his godfather.
He thumped his head lightly on the vehicle door.
He hated this .
Bradley wandered slowly through the rows of white stone, trying to focus on why he was here.
He was here to talk to his—to Papa Goose and his mama. To remember the July that changed everything so many years ago. He wasn’t supposed to be dwelling on the argument, on Maverick of all people. But part of him couldn’t help but recognize that today would be hard on Maverick too. Harder, even than it was on him.
Maybe Uncle Sli was right. Maybe he should just—
“ Damnit ,” he muttered, spinning around suddenly. He knew it. He knew that Slider was hiding something!
He stormed back towards his car, phone in hand. What had he been thinking? He wasn’t ready to confront him… he…
He angrily punched the number for his uncle in, bringing it to his ear.
/Hey, listen, Brad I can’t—-/
“I knew you were hiding things from me! I knew it! Why would you—why wouldn’t you tell me?”
/Tell you? Who the hell told you? No one was supposed to—/
“There’s more people in on it? You—you said no more secrets! You said you’d talk to me—-” Bradley felt like the rug was being pulled out from under him, again.
/Brad, listen, we were going to tell you, buddy, we just— it’s only been a few days. We wanted to confirm everything—/
“Confirm what ? How to best ambush me?! How to screw with my head, again ?! You knew what I was doing tonight. You really thought tonight was the best night to try and reconcile? To clear the air?!”
/—-What are you talking about?/
“Da— Mav ! He’s— was this a set up? Send me to the cemetery, make me confront him there?”
/B—Bradley, Mav was shot down . He—kid, he deployed to the middle east the week after your fight—-/
“He’s—-what the hell, Sli? He’s here! He’s sitting at their graves!”
/What?!/ Part of Bradley realized that Slider sounded terrified . /Tom! Thomas , get over here!!/
“Uncle Sli?”
/B, Maverick was shot down in the sandbox a few days ago. We only got confirmation that he was alive yesterday! Is he— are you sure he’s there?/
Bradley spun and looked back towards the graves, easily spotting the slumped figure. “Y-y-y-yeah he’s—he’s sitting right there—I—”
/ Fuck , how the hell did he even get here?/ Slider muttered, the phone being muffled as he moved around, obviously grabbing something. /Tom, we’ve gotta go!/
Bradley looked around the parking lot frantically. “Uncle Sli, there’s no—-there’s no bike, no car—-he—- I thought you dropped him off to meet me but—-”
/Bradley, buddy, listen to me—/ Slider instructed firmly. /Ice and I are coming, okay? Just keep him there. Don’t let him leave. I know you don’t wanna talk to him and you don’t have to but keep him there, okay? Please , Bradley—-/
“Yes sir,” he muttered, slowly moving back towards his parents’ gravesites.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, trying to process what the hell had happened.
His dad had been shot down ? He was—if they only knew he’d been alive this morning, then did that mean he’d been MIA ? Was he okay? Why didn’t they tell him?
Well he knew that. Obviously they were trying to respect his wishes to not be confronted with the man, but instead he almost had to mourn him without even knowing he’d been in danger in the first place. How the hell did he end up back in the Middle East? He’d been—he was supposed to be flying as a test pilot. He was supposed to be relatively safe —-but—
Fuck— he’d driven him to active combat. He’d nearly—
“M so s’rry—M s’rry C’role—”
Bradley froze, just out of Mav’s view.
“T-t-t-tried to k-p ‘im safe like you wanted,” Maverick slurred, gritting his teeth and slumping a bit more. “But ‘e h’tes me now, and Ice ‘nd I c’nt—--”
The pilot sniffed suddenly, voice hitching as he shakily reached towards Goose’s grave. “I—’most b’rned in this time, Nick. ‘nd if I did, B won’t—-he won’t know then, C’role and I—pl’se don’t ask me to–to keep it fr’m ‘im for’ver.”
“P-p-pops doesn’t know?” he spoke suddenly, walking towards the graves. His voice shook as he watched familiar green eyes widen in shock. “Y-y-you—-this was mama ?”
“Br—Bradley, no! It was—it w’s—” Maverick looked like he was trying to backtrack but he couldn’t even figure out how to begin.
He looked terrified .
“Ma— Dad ,” he knelt in front of him, hands outstretched. “What—what happened ?”
Maverick was sweaty and pale, bruises evident on his one cheek and temple. He looked seconds from falling over and it scared Bradley.
“I—” he coughed wetly. “I—got ‘to a b’t of a tough sp’t, Ba–Bradley.”
“Are you—are you okay ?”
“Don’t f’l so good,” Maverick muttered, swaying slightly.
“Dad?!” Bradley reached out to pull him into a hug, concern mounting as he felt his godfather all but collapse against him. He shook him lightly, but Maverick didn’t respond. “Dad!! C’mon—-Dad!!!!”
Tears began to stream down his face as the teen frantically laid the pilot flat, searching with trembling fingers for a pulse.
“Bradley!”
The teenager turned to see his Uncle sprinting towards him.
“Uncle Sli! Help me!! Please!!”
Slider slid to his knees next to the kid, cursing as he saw the state his brother was in. He started rubbing Mav’s sternum firmly. “Listen to me, you absolute jackass—You do not have permission to die !”
“Die?!!” Bradley shrieked, just as Ice joined them.
“He checked out AMA 3 hours ago—-Holy shit , Pete,” he swore, freezing at the sight of his wingman.
“Tom—your kid—“ Ron directed sharply. “He’s alive, just—-give me a second—-“
Kazansky pulled his kid into a tight hug, eyes never leaving his husband as Ron suddenly slapped him across the face.
“P-p-pops—“ Bradley was sobbing.
Ice tucked Bradley’s head into his neck, covering his head with his hand. “S’okay, baby—-he’ll be—he’ll be okay—-“
“Hey—hey you’re okay, kid,” Slider was suddenly leaning over the pilot, talking to him reassuringly. “Just stay with me, Mav—stay awake, okay?”
“M’kay—” the brunet tried to argue, batting Slider’s hands away.
“No, you sure the hell aren’t,” the RIO argued. “You’re running a fever and just passed the fuck out in a cemetery, dumbass, so excuse me for tryin’ to make sure you stay alive and don’t continue to traumatize your fuckin’ kid!”
“M j’st—-j’st little dizzy. Got some bruises ‘jecting—” Maverick weakly sat up, tugging at his shirt to try and show the harness bruises.
“Fuck, Ron, look at his side—” Ice reached over, snagging the edge of the tshirt and lifting it higher.
There was an angry looking wound stretching several inches along his lower left side. It was red and inflamed, weeping pus.
“Holy shit, Shortstack,” Ron’s eyes widened. “What the hell is this?”
“Shr–shrapnel,” Maverick bit out. “G-g-got basic medical once they f’nd me b’t stings like a b’tch.”
“It’s infected, Pete,” Ice argued, holding Bradley close. “It’s making you sick, you absolute lunatic ! This—you could be septic !”
“P-pops?” Bradley sniffed.
“He’s—”
“He’s going to the hospital,” Slider interjected. “B, get your Pops to the truck and start it up, okay? I’ll be right there with Mav. We’ll get your bronco tomorrow.”
“O-o-o-okay,” the teen nodded slowly, letting Ice help him to his feet.
“C’mon, kiddo,” Tom wrapped an arm around him, pressing a kiss to his head. “Don’t argue with Uncle Sli. He always wins.”
“Pops—”
“He’s gonna be okay, B,” Ice tried to sound strong, tried to convince their son that all would be well. He fell flat, and he knew it.
“I didn’t—I didn’t even know he was gone ,” Bradley scrubbed at his face as Tom led him to the car.
“He—he couldn’t sit around waiting for the two of you to either make up or have a further falling out. It was driving him crazy. He—he requested the transfer before I—before it even crossed my desk, he was practically gone. We were going to talk to you when he came home but then he—-he was shot down behind enemy lines just over 4 days ago. I didn’t—-I didn’t know he was even alive until last night. I had no idea he was sent back stateside. I was going to tell you, baby, just—-I needed to know if he was—-I had to have something concrete to tell you.”
“Is he—“
“We’re going to get him help,” Ice promised.
*******************************************************************************************
“Family of Captain Mitchell?”
Ice’s head snapped up and he exchanged worried glances with his RIO. Slider inclined his head from where he sat with an armful of exhausted teenager, indicating his pilot should go.
“That’s me,” Ice raised his hand, standing and moving towards the doctor. “How is he?”
“Lucky,” came the blunt response. “The captain sustained significant bruising and appears to have been dehydrated as well during his punch out and subsequent time behind enemy lines. The most serious injury was that laceration, however, and the fact that it was improperly treated initially. It has developed quite the infection and it has resulted in the fever, nausea, and several other symptoms. We’re flushing his system with antibiotics right now to clear it up. It’s early, but it appears that we may avoid sepsis, which is of course the most crucial factor.”
“So he’s going to be okay?”
“If he pulls through the next few days without becoming septic,” the doctor warned. “We’re going to be keeping him here but he is allowed visitors. Room 117 when you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” Ice felt the tension in his shoulders finally release. He turned back towards his RIO and son, moving to crouch in front of the fitfully sleeping teenager. He brushed the curls off of Bradley’s face, running a thumb over his cheek. “B? Hey B, baby, do you wanna go see Dad?”
Weary brown eyes blinked up at him, understanding slowly registering. “He’s okay?”
“He’s pretty sick,” the blond said softly, stroking Bradley’s hair. “But they think he’ll be okay. We can go sit with him if you want—-or we can go home. Whatever you want to do, kiddo.”
Bradley sat up quickly, nearly knocking his head into Slider’s. “We—can we go see him? Do you think—what if he doesn’t want to see me, Pops?”
“He’d want to see you, baby,” Ice promised, cupping his cheek. “Do you want to go?”
Bradley nodded quickly, unfolding his lanky frame and scrambling to his feet. “I—I need to see him.”
“Then let’s go,” Slider soothed, standing and wrapping an arm around the teen’s shoulders. “Lead the way, Tom.”
*******************************************************************************************************
It was always disconcerting to see Maverick in a hospital bed; the man that never stopped moving looked unnaturally still and small curled up in the large bed. Slider shuddered.
He hated seeing Maverick like that.
“Dad?” Bradley’s voice broke as he slowly walked towards the bed.
“He’ll be okay, buddy,” Slider reassured him, running a hand through his curls.
“I—this is all my fault….”
“What?!”
“No! It absolutely is not ,” Ice said firmly, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder.
“I—I drove him away. I told him to get out of my life! I—he was there —he was shot down because I got so mad and I—” tears were once again streaming down the teen’s face.
“Listen to me, Bradley,” Ice turned him so he was facing him. “ Maverick made a choice here. He’s the adult and he made a choice, a series of choices really. Those—those choices didn’t work out in the long run but that is not your fault. We—you’re not the only one who had arguments with him about the whole papers thing. He decided he needed some space so he deployed. It was stupid but that’s—-”
“That’s what Mav does when he feels cornered,” Slider interjected. “He tries to remove himself from situations before he’s asked to leave—“
“But I did ask him to leave and it wasn’t even his choice to pull my papers!!” Bradley moved to Maverick’s side, reaching tentatively for his hand. “He didn’t—-she—-”
It was all so much. Learning that Maverick hadn’t really told Ice and Slider about the papers, learning that his mom was the one who wanted him to stay out of the academy, learning that Maverick had chosen deployment over upsetting Bradley further—- he heaved huge, gasping sobs as he clutched at his dad’s hand.
“ She ?” Ice’s brow furrowed.
“Son of a bitch,” Slider closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand.
“M-m-m-mama—-she asked—-” Bradley slumped forward suddenly, sobbing onto the bed.
Ice moved to rub his back, trying to coax him into calming down some. “Okay, okay baby—-take a breath—everything’s gonna be okay.”
“That—-he did that for—” Slider swore. “It all makes sense! He—”
“Ron,” Ice interjected. “Not the time. We’ll talk to Mav later—-once he’s—”
“I’m s’rry,” the teen cried, turning to bury his face against the blond’s chest. “I’m so sorry!”
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” Tom promised, hugging him close and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You’re okay—-we love you, baby. He loves you. Just gonna take a few days to get him feelin’ better, that’s all. You know your dad. Won’t be in this bed for long.”
It seemed that Bradley took that to heart, as he moved to gently climb onto the bed with Maverick, carefully stretching out next to the pilot and tucking himself against his chest.
“I’m so sorry, Dad,” he whispered wetly, curling closer.
Ice ran a hand over his back as he cried himself out, talking softly to his teenager and pressing intermittent kisses to his head and Bradley finally descended into snuffling sort of huffs. Slider leaned in from the other side of the bed, brushing both Maverick and Bradley’s hair out of their faces. He offered the kid a warm smile when he muffled a yawn against the pilot’s chest.
“Get some sleep, kiddo,” Slider urged gently. “Ice and I will be right here, okay? We’ll keep an eye on Trouble and you.”
“You’re exhausted,” Ice agreed, gently running a hand up and down Bradley’s back. “Take a nap with Dad. Sli and I will be right here.”
Bradley didn’t need much convincing. He curled closer to his dad, tangling his fingers in the dog tags as Slider pulled a blanket up around him. All he needed was the slow, comforting rise and fall of the chest beneath him to drift off into an exhausted sleep.
“C’mere, Tom,” Slider coaxed softly, tugging his pilot into a pair of chairs next to the bed. He slung an arm around his shoulders and settled in. “They’re going to be okay.”
“They are,” Ice confirmed, leaning his head against his RIO’s. “I’m going to make absolutely sure of it.”
“We both are,” Ron promised.