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Ice and Slider stand a short distance from the helicopter pad when the SAR team brings Maverick and Goose back from their ejection. It's been two hours since they punched out, so the two are bound to be cold and dehydrated alongside whatever injuries they might've gotten from their violent departure from their jet. Guilt swells in Ice's chest, choking him.
It was his jet wash. He should've been keeping a better eye on Maverick. He should never have cut Maverick off after he said he was taking point.
"There they are," Slider points, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the beating blades of the chopper.
First comes relief, but when the medical staff meet the SAR team, the fact that they come to a full stop speaks volumes. They pull Maverick out on a backboard—slowly. A medical team would never move so slowly if there was anything left to save.
"Ice," Ron breathes. He sees it, too.
"I know, Ron."
"Where's G-"
"Maverick!" a voice cries, and Goose stumbles out of the helicopter to his pilot's side. "What the hell are you doing?! Why did you stop?!" he barks. He grabs a doctor with both hands, brown eyes pleading and desperate. "Do something! Help him!"
Ice's breath hitches.
Slider moves at the same times as he does, in sync with his pilot even now. They approach, watching the way Goose goes to his knees when the team puts Maverick's backboard on the ground. Goose pulls his pilot into his arms, begging Maverick to talk to him while the tiny aviator's head lolls loosely, his eyes half-open and lifeless. He must've died before he ever made it to the water if they didn't put a neck brace on him.
My jet wash.
Goose's howls die down the closer they get, and when Ice reaches for him, he hears the RIO gasp out, "Please, Pete. Come on, little brother. Please."
Neither of them expects Goose to turn violent when they start pulling him away; gentle and easy-going Goose, with a blind swing, catches Slider in the jaw and Ice at the temple. He bares his teeth, letting out a growl that hardly sounds human. "Stay away!"
"Goose," Ice says calmly, soothing. "They have to take him inside."
"They can go fuck themselves!" Nick spits, clutching Maverick's body and letting the snarling curl of his lips fall away as he sobs into his pilot's hair. "They can't have him. Never deserved him. No one did."
Ice feels his control slipping away at the sheer anguish in his friend's voice and he kneels beside Goose, his own words sounding miles away. "They'll examine him and release him back to his family, Goose. You know that."
Goose hiccups through a sob and looks at Ice, the expression on his face shattered beyond repair. "I can't leave him. I can't. He's my baby brother and I'm all he's got. I can't."
"Nick," Ron says softly, drawing his fellow RIO's attention and pleading with him. "He's not here anymore, man."
Keening lowly and crying all the while, Nick allows himself to be pulled away from his pilot. Ice has to untangle his fingers from Maverick's gear. Ron instantly drags Goose against his chest while Ice gently lays Maverick down again. Seeing Maverick so limp, his once lively expression hollow and dull, makes Ice's gut twist. He swallows down bile once, twice, and then crawls a few feet from his friends to heave up his breakfast onto the hard concrete.
I killed him. I made a mistake and I killed him.
After he throws up everything in his stomach, Ice swipes at his mouth with his sleeve and looks over at the two RIOs. Goose wails into Ron's chest, inconsolable. Tears fall down Slider's own face, but he pays them no mind, cradling Nick in his arms.
"I killed him, Ron. I killed him. I killed my baby brother. He was my responsibility, and I egged him on. I-I should've been watching the ranges."
Ice sits on the ground near the two of them, resting his elbows on his knees and dragging his hands through his hair. He can't imagine, doesn't want to imagine the kind of guilt he would feel if Ron died and he lived when they flew together. It's bad enough that he cost Goose not just his pilot, but someone he clearly loved, deeply and fully. He doesn't know if he could handle having Ron's death on his conscience, too.
By the time the medical staff manage to coax the three of them inside, Mav's body has long since been moved.
When Goose finally calms, he doesn't say another word to any of them. His silence stretches on, even when Carole brings Bradley with her to visit him in the hospital. He clutches his son life a lifeline, and Carole herself cries silently while holding his hand. Those eyes of Nick's that always held such warmth and eternal patience are empty and glassy, as though that part of him was borne from Maverick's very presence. Where he used to be all laughs and smiles, Goose is quiet now. Ice and Ron lurk nearby, unwilling to leave Goose alone but also not daring to presume their presence is welcome. It's not. It can't be, not after what happened.
When Carole leaves after visiting hours, Viper goes in to speak with Nick. After he comes out, he looks seconds away from tears, heavy grief written in his expression. The inkling Ice first had that Maverick meant something to the commander solidifies. He takes a calming breath that doesn't seem to help before he spots the two of them hovering in the hall.
"Stick close to him, boys," Viper gruffs out. "Drive him to Pete's rental tomorrow to collect his belongings. After.... Just keep an eye on him."
Without another word, the older man leaves them behind in a hurry. Fleeing would be the better term.
Ice and Slider wait patiently for Goose to sign his AMA the next morning.
"Goose," Ice croaks, shame buried deep in his gut.
Nick turns his head, meeting their eyes. He still doesn't speak.
"Viper asked us to take you to Mav's rental." Slider places a cautious hand on Goose's arm. Some fragile sort of hope blooms on Slider's face when the other RIO doesn't fight him on it. Maybe they haven't lost a friend, even if they don't deserve to keep him. "We'll be with you, man."
Ice drives, and Slider helps Goose into shotgun, remembering from their academy days that Goose gets carsick. How a guy who gets carsick just from riding in the back of a vehicle moving at thirty miles per hour could stand riding backseat for Maverick in a jet going supersonic speeds is beyond him.
This time, Goose barely seems to know he's in the car, or if he does, he doesn't care.
"Okay, Goose. We're here." Ice puts the car in park, hesitating when his passenger simply stares at the door of Maverick's rental unit. "Do you want someone to come with you?"
Goose shrugs, swallowing hard before letting himself out of the car. Slider makes the decision to follow. Ice has no choice but to trail in after them, his eyes tracking Goose's path to the bedroom. The entire rental is practically empty. The great majority of naval personnel travel light, but not this light. The only things in the room are Maverick's duffel, his uniforms hanging in the closet, and a singular photo frame perched on the beside table.
Slider crosses the room slowly and wordlessly, picking up the photo frame with a furrowed brow. "Is this his parents?"
The question draws Goose's attention. He clenches his jaw, his eyes turning shiny, and Slider hands him the picture frame when he sticks his hand out for it. The frame shakes in his grip.
"Goose?"
"Yeah," Nick croaks, his voice raw. It's the first time he's spoken since the accident. "That was them."
Ice tries not to think about the picture being the last Maverick had of his family together, but the implications behind the fact that there isn't a more current one of Maverick and his mother demand to be heard regardless. Though he forces himself to move on from it, the remaining family in the frame is none other than the Bradshaws.
He's my baby brother and I'm all he's got.
"Goose," Ice manages, his voice almost too quiet even for his own ears.
Nick sniffles softly, tears falling down his face as he meets Tom's eyes.
"I'm sorry about Maverick." Hesitating, Ice haltingly places his hand on Goose's shoulder. "He was...."
Goose snorts, choking on a faint sob. "Such a little shit." He glances between Ice and Slider when the two shuffle. "He was, but... Pete was also a good kid. He really was. There was always so much more to him than he'd ever let anyone see and I-.... I want him back. I wish you could-... could see-"
Slider and Ice bracket Goose on both sides, allowing him to break in the privacy of their embrace. Back at the academy, Goose always looked after them and a few select others, and now Ice is realizing that might've been force of habit from taking care of Maverick.
So, as Goose cared for Maverick, Ice and Slider care for Goose.
Unless Carole and Bradley are nearby, they stick close to him. During the court martial when Maverick and Goose are both cleared of wrongdoing, Ice watches Nick's face fall. He blames himself just as much or more than Ice does, and some part of him refuses to accept the vindication.
Regardless, Viper takes the first opportunity to put Goose up in a plane.
Slider insists they wait on the tarmac for Goose and Chipper to come back, and Ice goes willingly. The landing is rougher than Maverick's, for sure, and Chipper leaves the cockpit in a hurry.
"Hey!" Goose hollers as he climbs out of the cockpit. "What the hell, Chip?! We could've had him!"
Chipper ignores him.
"We could've had him, man! Jester practically handed it to us, and we could've had him if you'd just listened to me!" Goose rounds on Chipper, forcing Chipper to stop and look him in the eye. "Is it that you just don't trust me, or what?!"
"I ain't Maverick," Chipper bites back, shoving Goose away. "I'm not gonna fly like I've got something to prove."
One second, Goose's expression is blank, and the next, Chipper is on the ground clutching his bleeding nose with the RIO screaming at him. "YOU SON OF A BITCH! Who the hell was it that gave him something to prove?! You, the brass, the whole fucking Navy! All you assholes doubting his every word and move, treating him like the enemy when he hasn't done a damn thing to you, thinking you have any idea who he was, and never for one second thinking that he's a fucking person-"
Slider, having bolted forward the second Chip hit the ground, drags Goose away from the shorter man. "Nick, come on, man! Take it easy!"
"No! Let go of me!" Goose yells, struggling in Slider's arms while Ice kneels down beside Chipper. "Let go, Slider!"
"Not yet," Ron says, his tone strained with emotion but calm. When Goose bucks, he holds firm. "No, Nick. This isn't the answer. It won't change anything." He falters as Nick's breath catches but pushes on. "It won't change what happened. He's gone, man. I'm sorry, but he's gone."
Goose gives one last sorry excuse for a fight before sagging to his knees, dragging in gasping sobs as he curls over himself and presses his forehead to the hot cement. Slider follows. He looks at Ice even as he pulls Nick into his arms, pain and fear rooted deep in his gaze. Neither of them have ever seen Nick like this—wild, angry, and half out of his mind with grief. He should've been put on bereavement leave, and they both know it.
"You all right, Chip?"
Chipper swipes at his bloody nose with a stuffy sniff, his eyes hardly leaving Goose. "Jus' another broke nose," he mutters. "Deserved it. Fuck."
"Yeah," Ice sighs, his heart squeezing as Goose cries into Ron's chest for the second time this week. That's his friend, lost and broken, and there's not a damn thing he can do about it. "Yeah, you did."
No one presses charges against Goose.
Viper sends him with as many alternate pilots as he can, but Goose can't get along with them. They fly as if they think Goose is too precious a cargo to toss around and it drives him up the wall. Their flying isn't right. It's not enough for Goose, and, to Slider's surprise, the other RIO uses a puke sack for the first time since they came to Top Gun.
Those other pilots aren't Maverick, and no one will ever be Maverick.
The commander almost refuses to let Nick fly again until Ice volunteers himself to ride with him. Ice comforts himself with the knowledge that he can't hurt Goose the way he hurt Maverick if Goose is in his backseat.
"Talk to me, Goose," Ice says, his voice crackling over the comms. "What've we got?"
"I've got Jester, range five miles east, vector thirty, headed away from us," Goose says, sounding tired. He probably hasn't been sleeping.
Ice flies accordingly. "How are you back there? Nausea, headache?"
Goose makes a noise. "Headache."
"If you're gonna puke, let me know. I'll try not to do any rolls while you're chucking your cookies, just for both our sakes," Ice answers, a pleased smile spreading on his face when Goose offers him a weak laugh in return. "Ron will be royally pissed if you make a mess of his seat."
"All the more reason."
Ice chuckles, knowing Jester is playing keep-away to give them time to get comfortable. "He'd make you clean it up."
Together, though they aren't a perfect team, they manage to catch Jester.
"You want to know what the sick and twisted bit of this whole thing is?" Goose says quietly when they're in the locker rooms after the hop. Even in victory, Nick is exhausted, defeated. Not even a hint of the vigor the two had when they caught Jester on the first day lingers around him. "This has been my life since I was eighteen. I always liked the idea of flying, but it was only after I met Pete in flight school that I truly loved it. I mean, the first time I saw the kid, he'd just had the shit kicked out of him, but... he had this fire that refused to be doused. And it rose and rose until we were both flying high and free. I'd never felt so alive."
Ice bows his head against his locker and closes his eyes.
"The twisted part is that now-" Nick chokes on his words, huffing a tearful and frustrated exhale. "I hate it. I hate it so damn much, Ice. The Navy, flying, all of it. No one flies like Mav, but I'll fly until they kick me out, because up there is as close as I'm ever going to get to him again, and I would die before I leave him there alone."
The raw devotion in that statement, laid bare for Ice to see, bleeds him to the core. They'll share the blame for this for the rest of their lives, each of them innocent in the eyes of the law but complicit in their own.
"They killed him, Ice," Goose breathes. "The Navy killed him, made him so damn desperate to prove that he could be better than his dad, and it was all a lie. Now, all anyone will say is that he got what was coming to him, good riddance, that he deserved it, but it was all fake." He takes a shaky breath, verging on hysterical. "It was all a fucking lie!"
Ice turns, confused. "What?"
"Viper was there. He was with Mav's dad the day he disappeared, and it was covered up because the Navy wasn't supposed to be where they were in the first place. He was Mav's godfather and the system wouldn't let his family take Mav in."
The commander's mild favoritism suddenly makes a lot more sense.
"He only told me because he's going to fight to get the whole thing declassified, and you can't breathe a word of this until he manages that, you understand?"
"I understand."
Goose closes his locker and goes to leave, pausing just before the door. "I'm taking bereavement leave for the rest of our session here. I'll see you at graduation." He swipes at his eyes. "Thank you for flying with me. For-.... For acting normal."
Ice presses his lips into a thin line, nodding once.
Then, with hardly a sound, Goose is gone. True to his word, they don't see head or hide of him again until graduation. He looks a little better—not happy, but better. Both Ice and Slider gravitate towards him, accepting light side hugs from the mustached RIO.
"We're here for you, Nick," Ice murmurs in his ear. "Just say the word."
Goose hugs him and Slider closer for a few seconds before letting them go.
Life without Mav is never going to be the same, but Ice, Slider, and the rest of the boys will be damned if they don't keep living it. If they give the Navy as a whole a cumulative headache for each deployment they ever go on, then it's all the better. Maverick wouldn't have it any other way, and Goose certainly wouldn't either.
In the months that follow, Goose never does end up with a permanent pilot.
Two years down the line, Duke Mitchell's file is declassified, and the class of 86' returns to San Diego to join a celebration thrown by Viper. They spend all night listening to the many and varied tales of the Mitchell men. And, twenty-four years after the accident of Hop 31, Bradley follows in the footsteps of his beloved Uncle Mav.