Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

          When Ice and the rest of the guys returned from deployment, he wasn't expecting for them to get invited alongside Mav to Carole's house. In fact, a small part of Ice was certain the widow would want nothing to do with them after what happened to Goose. Regardless, they've been invited, and Mav clearly wants them to come because he hasn't stopped chattering about it (and his nephew) for more than two seconds since the letter came on the latest mail day. 

          They learned, quite readily, that Mav adores Bradley Bradshaw. 

          As a group, they all knock on the door, and Carole receives them with a big smile and an armful of gosling. Bradley lights up immediately, making grabby hands at his uncle. 

          "Hey, Brad-Brad! I missed you so much, baby goose!" Mav chirps, taking his nephew from Carole and pressing teasing kisses all over the boy's cheeks. 

          "Unca Mav!" Bradley shrieks, giggling and trying to push his uncle's face away. 

          Mav chuckles, ceasing his attack and giving the child a hearty squeeze. Bradley responds in kind and wraps his arms around Mav's neck, pressing his face into Mav's shoulder. They stay like so for a long time, and the tension in the aviator's body slowly diminishes. 

          "It's so good to have you boys home," Carole says, opening the door wider. "Come on. Come in. I've got lunch ready since I figure you had a long flight." 

          Ice shuffles. "You didn't need to do that, ma'am." 

          Carole eyes him. "Don't you start with that ma'am nonsense, Tom. All of you can call me Carole." 

          The boys share a glance, a smirk, and a braincell as they all reply, "Yes, ma'am." 

          With no small amount of exasperated scowling, Carole ushers them inside and to the dinner table. They share a meal like a family—a convoluted and mismatched family, but a family all the same. It's... nice. 

          But after lunch, when everyone has retired for a nap or to the backyard for a relaxing sprawl in a lawn chair, Carole pulls Ice aside. "I have something for you boys. You're going to need it." 

          Ice glances down when she pushes a cardboard box into his hands with incredibly familiar leatherbound journals inside. "Carole, I-" He shakes his head, speechless. "I can't take these. These are Goose's journals-" 

          "No. This box," Carole explains, patting another box of equal size on the couch, "-is Goose's personal journals. The one you're holding.... It's his journals on Mav." 

          "On Mav?" 

          "He knew Mav longer than he knew me, Tom, and almost every day for as long as they were together, he would write about their experiences together. You have no idea what Nick meant to Pete, no matter what he's told you, but I think you boys will be able to gain a better understanding if you learn just how much Pete meant to Nick." 

          Ice peers into the open box. There must be at least ten journals in this thing, all filled to the brim and exploding at the edges with extra inserts. "I don't know what to say." 

          "You don't have to say anything, Tom, but if you're going to keep those journals, then I need you to promise me something." 

          "What?" 

          "Look out for Pete. He told me what you said, so stay on his wing, both up there and down here. Please." 

          Tom stares. He already told Mav he'll be his wingman, but he never dreamed that commitment would bring him directly into the Bradshaws' fold. Privately, Ice acknowledged that they knew so very little about the real person behind Maverick when they saw how destroyed he was over Goose's death. Maybe.... Maybe this way, they can close the gap. 

          "He needs people, Tom," Carole whispers, her eyes pinned to the screen door leading to the backyard. 

          Following her eyes, Tom sighs when he sees Pete on his knees on the porch while Bradley shows him his toys and the stories he made up while his uncle was gone. He doesn't know exactly how to be there for Pete just yet, but he swore to himself when the tiny aviator refused to leave him in the air that he'd make sure the kid stayed safe. 

          "I promise, Carole," Tom murmurs, firming his hold on the box. 

          "Thank you." Carole squeezes his arm. "I know it seems like a lot, but I promise it's worth it to read them." 

          "Have you?" 

          "Some. Goose was protective of them, even from me, for a long time. It was almost two years before he admitted he even had a separate journal for Pete." She picks the journal off the top. "Especially this one. It was the first." 

          Her tender regard for that particular volume twists Ice's heart. He can only imagine what's in it. Part of him burgeons with curiosity, but the other part of him recoils away from the massive breach of privacy. Goose is gone. It's not like he can be offended they're about to hear his thoughts on their wayward friend, but the point stands. He would never have shown them these without a massive change in attitude on their part. 

          "Be patient with him." 

          Ice perks up, huffing amusedly. "Anyone who doesn't will go gray before they reach forty, I'm sure. That, or go mad." 

          A wry smile curls Carole's lips. "Words to live by, Tom." 

          She leaves his side with a kiss to his cheek and a squeeze of his forearms that conveys unspeakable gratitude. Ice watches her go. Before long, she kneels down beside Mav, tucking her sundress neatly beneath her while Bradley holds a stuffed animal way above his head. It takes Ice a second to place the critter until Bradley turns it right-side up—a goose. Little Bradley made his goose do an inversion. 

          Because, of course, he did. 

          Heart panging, Ice turns away from the scene and pads up the stairs to the guest room Carole insisted they take. He tucks the box under the nightstand. He won't read them alone. 

          Maybe tomorrow when Bradley and Mav are out, they'll get started. 

          They owe it to Goose. 

Chapter Text

          "What's up, Ice?" Slider asks, ever aware of his pilot's state of mind. 

          Ice glances out the window, waiting until Carole pulls out of the driveway with Mav and Bradley in the car. When he can't see them anymore, he reaches over the side of the bed for the box and wrangles its weight to pull it in front of himself. "Carole gave me these last night." 

          Slider tugs the edge of the box, peering inside. "Goose's journals? I'd have thought she'd keep them for herself." 

          "She did." Ice clenches his jaw. "These ones are specifically for Mav." 

          Wolf blinks. "No shit?" 

          "Yeah." 

          "There's, what, eleven, twelve journals in there?" Hollywood asks. 

          "Eighteen," Ice answers, pulling the one of the top that Carole said was the first. "Carole organized them in order by date. Two journals for each year, except for 1980 where he had three." 

          Wolf tilts his head. "So.... What do all these have to do with us?" 

          Ice runs a hand through his hair, sighing heavily and holding Goose's first volume in ginger hands. "Because Carole wants us to look after Mav. I was planning to anyway, but she gave me these to help us get to know him through Goose's eyes. He's... well, to put it lightly, stubborn and tight-lipped as hell, so.... Yeah. Goose's journals." 

          "Are we gonna read 'em all at once, or what?" Wood asks. 

          "In order, I guess." Ice opens the first one. "We can take turns reading when our voices get tired. This way, we won't all be playing catch-up at various points." 

          Slider shuffles a bit closer. "I'll take next." 

          Nodding once, Ice turns his attention to the volume in his hands. It's thicker than it should be, and when he dares to open it, the first seven pages threaten to fall out. They're loose, clearly taken from a different journal and added to this one. Just how quickly did Goose decide Mav's presence would be a permanent one?

          Ice licks his lips and clears his throat. "Okay, uh.... Here goes." He staves off the awkwardness of reading Goose's thoughts aloud. "'March 23rd, 1977.' Um, it looks like he added to it after he pulled it from his journal. He put 'Day 1' on it. 'It's been a crazy day. First, Harry Ninklbaum broke a window in class. Allegedly. He kept saying he didn't know what happened, but he got the paddle from Mrs. Stimes. Ain't none of us made a peep since unless asked. She's writing a letter to his parents. It worked out for me, because I was the one who broke the window. In my defense, I didn't know a pencil launcher could do that. I'd have stepped in and owned up, but Harry put glue on her chair earlier this week after she caught him sneaking reefer brownies into his desk, so I figured she got some catharsis or somethin'. I never thought I'd hear Harry hollerin' so loud.'"

          Wolf chuckles. "Yeah, that sounds like Goose, all right." 

          They all share a murmur of agreement. 

          Ice continues, smiling slightly. "'After that, Poppy Gillens found a rat tail in one of the school lunches and the whole place went into a panic. We were learning about that plague thing with all the rats, and, well, I can see how that would scare some folk. I wonder if they'll figure out it was fake before or after they start quarantining the students. They're letting me go home, because my ma packs my lunch every day, so that's a plus. Amazing what you can do with painted rubber and food coloring.'" Ice shakes his head in exasperation. 

          "So, Goose was that kid," Slider smirks. "What do you want to bet all the teachers adore him and think he's an angel?" 

          "What an idiot," Ice snorts. He reads further. "'Also, Mr. Jeffreys somehow managed to choke on his own tie clip. I had nothing to do with that, but it's definitely one for the books. He had to go to the ER. That's all for now, but we'll see if anything happens on my walk home.'"

          "I'm not sure what it says about Goose that he expected weird things to happen to him." 

          Hollywood snickers at his RIO's dumbfounded words. "He grew up in rural Tennessee. Always said running for PT was easy since he went a few miles to school every day. I think farm kids wouldn't be surprised if a dead body showed up on their walk home." 

          "Fair." 

          Ice huffs softly, waiting for them to stop snickering between themselves before proceeding. He turns the page. "'Well, somethin' happened, all right. Walked by the grocers on my way home and spotted a kid stealing an apple. He got caught, and the cashier tossed him out on his ass. I don't think he even saw me watching him before he bolted. I had to have followed him eight blocks by the time he finally stopped in the back alley behind the roller rink.'" An inkling of discomfort settles over Tom. This kid can't be.... "'I saw some wrappers on the ground, but no kid. Turns out, he'd heard me comin' and hid, so when I poked around for him, he jumped me.

          'Jumped is a strong word. More like he landed on me, barely weighed fifty pounds, if that, and the arm he got around my neck was shaking so bad, it's a wonder he could hold on. He was scared and cold, and there wasn't anything else I could do but take him home.'"

          Slider's mouth opens slightly in surprise and realization, but he remains silent. Hollywood and Wolf listen intently. 

          All Ice can do is keep reading. "'I just supported one of his legs since I had my lunch sack in my other hand and started walking. He fought. Hell, but he fought like a wildcat, and I have the scratches to prove it. I suppose I kinda kidnapped him, but when putting up a fight exhausts you so much that you can't do nothin' anymore, it's gotta be done.

          'Sides. If he had someone feeding him, he wouldn't have been trying to steal food in the first place. Well-fed kids try to steal candy, not fruit.

          'My ma and pa didn't raise no bystander.'" Ice swallows. "'Once he'd worn himself out, I offered him what was left of my lunch. I think he must've been starving, enough so to open the bag right away and go for the pear my ma packed. He checked it out first. I think some unkind stranger must've gave him fruit once with a razor blade in it. One of our classmates last year ended up in the hospital because of some asshole doing that during Halloween. It was meant for his niece, and he checked every single piece of candy in her bag the second he got home. I hope someone was there to help this kid if that is what happened.

          'The little fella was shaking somethin' awful by the time he finished my pear, and he was so wore out, he fell asleep on my back. Ma thought I'd been attacked by an animal when I got home until she saw the blood under the kid's nails. Bringing home a strange kid didn't bother her none. Ain't like he'd be the first she helped out, but he was certainly mine. First I brought home, leastwise. All she did was insist I bathe him. I think either he felt bad about clawing me or it'd been the first time he was warm in awhile, 'cause he didn't fight me for that bit. I think he's got somethin' broken somewhere, but he wouldn't let me look. He looks rough regardless.

          'Ma fed him a little slice of her apple pie to put something warm and sweet in his tummy, too. He stared at it for five minutes like he thought he'd get in trouble for taking it. Ma thinks he can't be more than ten, but he hasn't said a word yet to tell us otherwise, not even when he was trying to claw my eyes out unless you count demonic screeching or the frightened whimpering after he was too weak to keep struggling.'

-------

          'He's pretending to sleep on the couch now under Ma's favorite quilt. Think he's scared of her. I hope he won't run when Pa gets home, too. He's out moving the sheep. I wonder where the kid came from.'" Ice clears his throat, glancing up at his friends. They all look as stunned and heartbroken as he feels. "That's, uh, the end of Day 1." 

          "Fucking Goose," Wood says, trying for levity despite the emotion laden in his voice. "He would immediately adopt the feral little shit, huh?" 

          No one laughs. 

          Ice has to close the journal for a few seconds just to breathe, because this is a lot to take in all at once. They'd guessed Mav suffered through a rough childhood, but Ice didn't think he'd been homeless when Goose first met him. He expected their meeting to be during flight school, or on a deployment somewhere, not... the truth. These journals seemed insurmountable before from sheer volume of information, but if this is where they're starting, it'll be worse than Ice thought. 

          "Is it bad that I'm a little scared to go to Day 2?" 

          Ice offers his RIO a sympathetic glance. "Can't be much worse than Day 1, but let's take a quick break to grab some stuff. Food and water, for sure. We're gonna be here a while." 

Chapter Text

          "'March 24th, 1977. Day 2

          'My ma made the kid broth and gave him another pear for breakfast. He looked about ready to bolt until I sat down beside him and started slurping some broth, too. Skinny as he is, he needs all the encouragement he can get. It's not my favorite, but Ma said it'd be easy on his stomach. Also said we shouldn't feed him too much too fast, otherwise he could get sick because his body ain't used to so much nutrition at once. I don't get it, but that was intentional on their part. She and Pa were born just before the Depression, and they waited a long time to have me just to be sure my childhood wouldn't be like theirs.

          'If they didn't take in the odd hand here and there, I think my ma would've been ridiculed for being thirty-five with no kids. Society's kinda cruel like that, but now she's got me and that seemed to be more than enough trouble for her. Calls me her Janus-faced angel.

          'I love my ma.

          'Anyway, she tried to convince the kid to let her check for broken bones, but he refused. Well, refused in that he wouldn't let her touch him. He still hasn't said anything. School's cancelled, so I guess they still haven't figured out the rat prank, but that means I can try to help him. I'd hate to leave him all by his lonesome here. Part of me thinks he'd run.

          'Another part of me hopes he'd stay.

          'I really hope he stays.'

-------

          'I know Ma said we shouldn't feed him too much, but he was so sorry-looking around mid-morning that I snuck him one of her homemade cookies from the jar. I don't think she'll mind.'

-------

          'Ma called home from work, asked me to reheat the broth to feed him again and to check him for lice if he'd let me. He didn't let her, so I figured he wouldn't let me, but miracles abound. He didn't have any. I didn't figure he had lice anyhow since he hadn't been scratching, but Ma's careful about that stuff. If he didn't seem so wary, she'd have had me check last night.

          'I also tried to get him to play some cards. He just looked at me with those tired green eyes of his, confused, and I realized no one had ever taught him card games. I taught him golf, since that's one you can play easy without words. BS, too, since he could just tap the table if he wanted to call me out, but I told him that's our little secret. Ma says we shouldn't be playing a game at school that encourages that kinda talk, but she clearly hasn't heard herself cussing out Pa for tracking mud all across the house.

          'Kid was shivering even while he was eating hot food, so I went and pulled some of my old stuff out of the attic for him. Little did I know that it'd take me an hour to convince him to take them.

          'It took me an hour because he didn't want me to see the bruises steadily darkening on his torso. Explains why he was moving like something was broken. It makes me wonder just who got to him before I caught up to him. Did he hurt himself worse trying to fight me yesterday? Who ran him out of wherever he was staying before? Where are his parents? Does he even have any?

          'I don't know the answers, and I'd ask, but I know he won't talk.

          'I'll just have to be patient with him.'

-------

          'Pa's home again. He ain't oblivious to how the kid looks at him and keeps an eye on him like he'll be the first to lash out at any sign of trouble. Kid looks at Ma like that, too, and me to some extent. Been real careful about watching his blind spot when we come down from upstairs. But Pa's real kind. He just checked the time real quick after he walked in from feeding the sheep and warmed up some more broth. Said, "Come'ere, Skitters," and attempted to coax him into drinking a little more. He's always complaining about his knees hurting, but he knelt for the kid so he wouldn't tower over him. Our new house guest was still suspicious, wouldn't eat until Pa left the room, but we're feeding him. Who is he to say no?

          'I don't think he's used to having a nickname, but I suppose calling him Skitters is better than 'kid' or nothing at all. Ma calls him honey, so I call him honey.

          'I hope he's feeling a little better, but when I haven't been feeding him or something, he's been sleeping. He can't be healthy to be sleeping that much.'

          "Well," Slider manages, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Fuck."

          Ice huffs, taking a slurp of the water he kept near him.

          "You know, come to think of it, he's been snoozing a lot," Wolf says, caution in his tone. "I don't want to jump to conclusions just based on this, but.... Well, maybe it's something we should be looking out for." 

          Nodding slowly, Ice lets out a long breath through his nose. He supposes Carole saw this coming and knew they'd need context for some of Mav's behaviors, context she wouldn't always be nearby to give them. He leans over the edge of his bed, dragging his seabag closer and snagging a notepad out of the nearest pocket. Starting a bulleted list, he writes 'Eating/Sleeping Habits.' "Let's keep going, then." 

          The flyboys give a brief nod of agreement. 

          "We've only got a couple more paragraphs for Day 2." Ice passes his notepad to Slider, trusting his RIO to know what to jot down. He begins again. "'It's been a few hours of cards now, and my ma's home from work. She went to talk to Pa in private, and I guess it has to do with the kid. They won't try to send him away, leastwise not until he's healthier, but I bet Ma asked around a little. I wonder if she found out anything.

          'Tonight, she's letting me feed him since he's made it clear Ma and Pa make him too nervous. We finished off the broth for lunch and we've moved on to potato soup. He seems to like that better. It's definitely got more food in it, but it's hard to say what he thinks, really. He has a hell of a poker pace. Learned that right quick playing BS. If we were playing for cash, he'd have swindled me.

          'Anyways, I'm gonna let him bed down in the guestroom now that we know he doesn't have lice. Hopefully, he'll sleep okay. I'm still worried he'll take off, but we'll see.'

          Hollywood snorts. "Well, I wish I'd known the thing about his lack of tells before I played poker with the little bastard."

          "Same," Slider agrees. 

          Ice merely smiles and turns the page. "'March 25th, 1977. Day 3....'"

Chapter Text

          "'... Day 3, the kid didn't sleep at all last night. The guest bedroom is just down the hall from mine, and I could hear him tossing and turning. I didn't know if he'd take me checking on him all that well, so I left him alone. Tonight, if the same thing happens, I'm gonna ask him if he wants to go back down to the couch. It seemed easier on him there, but maybe that's because if he had to run, the front door was only two rooms away.

          'He's still scared. I know he is.

          'I wish I knew what to do to reassure him, but Ma says we'll just need to be patient. She and Pa have taken to leaving crackers out on the table. He ain't gonna take them. I already know that even if they don't. I'll just give 'em to him myself.'

          "He always ate anything Goose put in front of him." 

          The flyboys look to Slider. 

          "I'm writing 'carry snacks' in here." Slider ducks his head, already scribbling away. "If he trusts us at all, he'll eat what we give him. I know he lost some weight before the Layton, so I want to make sure he's gaining it back." 

          Ice nods in agreement, looking back to the page. "'It's lunchtime now, and I got out the frosted flakes. I know, I know, I'm not supposed to have cereal after breakfast, but it's not like Ma will know. She's at work, and Pa's out with Moxxie checking on how the grazing is going.

          'The kid's watching me from the couch. I don't think he knows he's allowed to be... well, anywhere else if he wants. I'm gonna tell him.'

-------  

          'He likes the porch, but only when he can't see Pa.'

-------  

          'Pa made more soup. I got hungry after I had cereal and ate a good chunk of what was left. He knelt down again when he offered it to our guest, and he said a soft 'Here you go, Skitters' that made the kid shiver. This time, Pa only made it to the kitchen before his offering started disappearing into an eager stomach. Pa asked me if I was sure I fed him lunch. We both know I did, but I think he's getting fond of the kid.

          'I don't think the kid is fond of Pa yet, but he seems hungrier. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I hope it's good, a sign he's adjusting to meals, maybe. I'd have to ask.

-------  

          'He's still moving like he's hurting. I had to wait until both Ma and Pa were upstairs getting ready for bed to get him to let me look at his ribs. He doesn't want them to know, probably because they'd take him to a doc and that could lead to the authorities of some kind. I doubt he even really wanted me to know, but I already saw it. What can he do? It looks worse now than before. All the bruises have blackened up. Looks like someone's boot.

          'Just what happened to you, kiddo?'

          Wolf's expression falters, now tinged with horror. "What kinda person kicks a kid hard enough to break ribs?" 

          "A sorry excuse for one," Slider grumbles. 

          Ice swallows. He thought Day 1 was bad, but it looks like things are going to get much worse before they get better. His own father wasn't exactly a model of human decency, but he'd never beat him for the hell of it. And, yes, Slider, he's well aware that just because it didn't end bloody didn't mean every conversation with his father wasn't a demoralizing defeat.  

          But still. 

          Exactly how much work did Goose put into turning Mav into the cheery soul he was before Top Gun, perpetually in a good mood and talkative if given the chance? It was no wonder he didn't take well to Ice's approach. It wasn't really fair of him to assume Mav was the reason Cougar quit, and it couldn't have painted a very pretty picture of Ice's opinion on Mav. 

          Just how far has Goose's death set him back without any of them knowing it? 

Chapter Text

          Ice reads, his voice low, "'March 26th, 1977, Day 4. Ma and Pa are off to church for service, but I wanted to stay home with the kid. They let me on the condition that I say my prayers over breakfast this morning. I'm sure my cheerios appreciated the blessing.

          'Anyway, I took the kid out to the porch again since I knew Ma and Pa would be gone for a few hours. There's a bake sale today, and I'm sure Ma will come home with all kinds of sweets. I'm sure she'll hear about the window Harry totally broke from his mom. Dad will be at least two hours afterward just talking to folk. Gives the kid plenty of time to sit out and enjoy the fresh air. Ma doesn't usually like us taking blankets outside, but he was still cold, so I figured it was worthwhile to risk getting her quilt dirty.

          'He was back inside the second he saw Moxxie trotting toward us. I can't imagine after that reaction he had the greatest experience with dogs.

          'Not a lot of great experiences overall from what I'm gathering.

          'Took me a few tries to get him to tiptoe out onto the porch. Had to shut Moxxie in the barn in the meantime. Pa will let her out when he goes to feed the sheep this afternoon. I'll try again tomorrow. She wouldn't hurt a fly. Worst she'd do is lick him to death, and I think if the kid gave her a chance, they'd be good friends.'

-------

          'He's got this sense for when somebody's in the room with him. Took me a bit to notice, since I thought he'd been hearing me coming, but today, I was careful not to make any noise and he still blinked open his eyes the second I stepped into the living room. He was sleeping sound. I can always tell when he is 'cause his face goes soft. I never met a kid so hollow-eyed, but the consistent meals are slowly bringing a little life to his gaze.

          "I always did wonder why Goose was glued to Maverick's back." 

          Ice shoots Hollywood a curious look. 

          "Any chance Goose had, he was in Mav's blind spot. He was probably watching it for him, making sure nothing else was back there that could bother him." The pilot shrugs. "Just thought it was interesting at the time, but I never made anything of it." 

          "We probably weren't supposed to," Slider sighs. "Goose sure was good at pretending his attention wasn't divided keeping an eye on the kid, huh?" 

          "No kidding." Ice toys with the corner of the next page. Thinking back on it, Maverick and Goose were rarely apart, save for a study session Slider told him about from the day Carole and Bradley first arrived when Mav was teaching their instructor a thing or two about aggressive maneuvers in a combat situation. She'd apparently seen fit to question his judgement on a functional, if unconventional, solution. 

          Slider teased the kid, as is his wont, but even he had to admit the maneuver was sound. 

          "Keep going?" 

          With a mild look of agreement toward Wolf, Ice continues. "'Ma and Pa are home, and the kid's right back on the couch like he never left. Like I figured, Ma's got a basket of baked goods from the sale, and she set down next to the kid and picked through it, asking him what looked good.

          'You'd think she was tryin' to interrogate him. He looked like he was staring at a snake waiting to strike.  

          'I took it upon myself to get an honest opinion out of him after she left behind the options. He's suspicious as all get-out of any act of kindness, probably doesn't see 'em as acts of kindness at all. I made sure to tell him she was serious about letting him have the sweets and wouldn't mind him taking more than one.  

          'He took a singular chocolate brownie with chocolate icing and mini chocolate chips on top.  

          'Consensus: the kid loves chocolate. He didn't smile, but he looked almost... content. I'm putting the snacks away and labeling the brownies for the kid so Pa doesn't get into 'em. He'll understand. No doubt, once the kid's eating better, Pa will be the one sneaking them to him.'" Ice finishes, a smile tipping his lips. 

          Slider chuckles and writes 'chocolate bribery' in the book. "Guess I know what I'm picking up the next time I'm at the store, huh?" 

          "Guess we do," Ice muses. "You want to read? This is the last of the entries ripped out of his original journal, and my voice is getting tired." 

Chapter Text

          Slider clears his throat, carefully thumbing the loose pages of Goose's journal until they fall back into place at the front of the volume. "'March 27th, 1977. Day 5.

          'He's staying. I've decided that, whether he knows it yet or not.

          'Pa thinks the kid might be mute. He still hasn't said anything. I dunno, though. I think maybe he's still scared. He's also smart. He helped me out with some math yesterday, and if he is ten like Ma thinks, then he's real smart for such a young kid. Also, I took him outside again, another attempt to get him used to Moxxie. I introduced him nice and slow. She was a good girl. He was scared of her at first, but real brave. She was gentle with him.

          'We all have been.

          'Last night, Pa called up the stairs to remind me to brush my teeth, and I found the kid huddled under the sink in the bathroom. It took me a bit to figure out why, but I had to explain to him that Pa wasn't mad and he wouldn't do nothin' if I happened to forget anyway. It took me another ten minutes to figure out he was scared because he didn't have a toothbrush and didn't know what Pa would do. I gave him one of the spares we keep behind the sink mirror.

          'I know Ma would tell me not to be cursing, but who the hell beats a kid for not brushing their teeth?'" Slider turns the page and pauses, brushing a paperclipped item from the journal. "Here's, um, a picture of him. He's real baby-faced." 

          Tugging the photo free, Ron shows it to them. It certainly displays a kid, but for it to be Pete.... He's scrawny, barely bigger than the dog in the photo with him crouched down the way he is—Moxxie, Ron would bet. 'Skitters and Moxxie,' the inscription reads, confirming his conclusion. Considering Mav's just barely over twenty-three nowadays, that made him all of fourteen, going on fifteen in a few months, in this picture—fourteen mistaken for ten.

          "Aw, lookit the little guy," Hollywood coos. "He's cute." 

          Ice snorts, catching the look of concern on his RIO's face and keeping the conversation light, not drawing attention to the clear signs of malnourishment. "I'm not sure Mav would appreciate that sentiment." 

          "Well, Mav doesn't have to appreciate it for it to be true." 

          Chuckling, Slider takes the photo back once everyone has had a look and gingerly replaces it under its clip. He reads onward. "'Back to school. I have to go, but no one was going to be around to watch the squirt, so I volunteered to take him with me. It's not unusual for me to have a stranger along with me sometimes and my teachers won't mind. I'll keep an eye on him. Packed him soup and everything already.'

-------  

          'We're at school now, but not before having a fifteen-minute period spent promising him I wasn't going to dump him back in the alley where I found him as soon as he realized we were walking into town. He started up with those frightened whimpers again, and I just couldn't help it. I hugged him. It's the first time I dared touch him since I carried him home.

          'He all but collapsed into me when he realized I wasn't leaving him somewhere.

          'What have people been doing to him?

          'How many times has someone just up and left him, threw him out, or beat on him for the kid to be so scared? A part of me doesn't want to know, but it doesn't matter if I'm a little apprehensive. He lived through it, and he needs help. I already told Ma that if someone ain't out there looking for him, we're keeping him. She just smiled at me, said, 'Course we will, dear,' and left it at that.

          'I've said it before and I'll say it again, but I love my ma.'

-------  

          'They figured out the rat tail was fake. What a drag. Mr. Lich is wearing a plague doctor mask for history today, so at least someone thinks it was funny.'

-------  

          'My teachers didn't want a bored child on their hands, so they gave him homework. I think they assumed he'd color on it or something, but he had other ideas. Boy, did he show 'em what for. I think the only thing he struggled with all day was English, and even then, it was the grammar and sentence structure getting him, not the spelling. Well, music was a no-go since he ain't talking, so that was probably worse, but anyway. His handwriting puts mine to shame, and when I asked him about it, he gave me this nervous look. Maybe sad. It's hard to tell with him, poker face and all.

          'Whatever it was, it wasn't happy.

          'Makes me wonder if I'd recognize if he was. I'm gonna make him smile one of these days. Maybe not right away, but soon. No kid deserves to be so morose all the time.'

-------  

          'It's certainly been a little awkward when teachers asked me who my handsome young friend is. He's been around almost a week now and I still don't know his name. He didn't seem interested in sharing even though I've got no doubt in my mind he knows how to spell his own name. For all he hasn't been talking, I still don't think he's mute.

          'Not that it wouldn't be okay if he was. We'd figure it out. I just don't think he is. I'm not gonna be the one to demand too much from him and spook him into running away. It's been nice having someone to talk to since Ma and Pa are gone pretty much all evening after I'm home from school.

          'He's always keeping a wary eye on me, but I think he likes the attention. At least, I prefer to think so. Ma sometimes calls me a chatterbox.'

-------  

          'He got cold in fifth period, so I gave him my jacket. It's not bad out for being March. We've had worse years, but he was shivering like it was thirty rather than fifty. More than likely, he's still feeling the effects of being underfed, and as much as I want to let him have as much food as he could stand, I know better than to stray too far from Ma's word on this. She and Pa know better than I do about it.

          'I don't want to hurt him.

          'Long as I've got a say in it, I'm not gonna let anyone else hurt him, either.'

          Silence hangs over the flyboys for a long while. Slider rubs his face, weary. It's horrible to read but even harder to imagine. Mav is small and scrappy, but strong. Seeing a picture of him outright thin hurts. Pete was probably one terrible experience away from never speaking again. 

          Goose rescued him, practically brought the kid back to life based on his own descriptions. 

          Without anything to say otherwise, Ron turns his attention back to the journal. He softens on Mav, skimming a light finger over the boy's picture, and prepares to read once more. 

Chapter Text

          "'March 28th, 1977. Day 6. The kid didn't want to go to school for some reason. He seemed to like it well enough yesterday, so I wonder what's the matter. It's not his ribs. I checked him out again after Ma went to work and Pa headed out with Moxxie. With good meals, I think he's healing up okay, has since moved on from moving like something's broken to moving like a man five times his age.'

          "Maybe he just didn't want anybody asking too many questions about where he came from, and that's why he didn't want to go back?" Wolf ventures. 

          Slider shrugs and keeps reading. "'When I couldn't get a good answer out of him, I went to Pa, asked to stay home 'sick.' He gave me this exasperated look like I was far too obsessed with the stray puppy I'd brought home. That is ridiculous for two reasons. One, he's doing the exact same thing, even if he won't admit it, and two.... Well.

          'The kid is a stray kitten at best.

          'Pa let me stay home anyway, called up to the school for me and everything. It's not like he could stay with the kid. He has to go pick up enough fresh hay for the whole barn.

          'So, the kid's watching this all go down, wide-eyed like he can't quite believe it, and I just plopped down on the couch beside him and flicked on the TV to watch Rifleman re-runs. I did my homework while I was at it, because I kinda got distracted last night.

          'The kid, once again, saved my math grade from plummeting into the ocean, because I'd apparently misunderstood one of the functions in class yesterday.

          'I haven't wanted to push, but I just got so curious that I asked him his name.

          'He stared at me for a little bit, then glanced toward the phone where I'd asked Pa to call me in sick simply because our houseguest was uncomfortable. He was so quiet I barely heard him.

          'His name is Pete, Pete Mitchell, and I swear, he's gonna be my baby brother.'

          "Aw," Hollywood coos. 

          Slider and Ice share a chuckle over Goose's teenaged antics. Of course, he decided near-instantly that Pete was going to be his. It's clear by the fact that he kept sneaking Pete food that he was half in love with the scamp already. His Mother Goose instincts must've been screaming at him to adopt that little shit right there and then. Nick Bradshaw was nothing if not as equally batshit as his pilot. 

          Simply based upon their initial awkward attempts at friendship after the Layton the kid doesn't really know how to handle being liked, so Goose's sudden attachment all those years ago was probably whiplash-inducing.  

          But Goose kept his word. He decided five whole days after they met that Mav was going to stay with him forever. 

          "Two words in six days," Ice says solemnly. "Now, that's hard to imagine, huh?" 

          Slider huffs, but the sound comes out wry more than amused. Mav can be kind of excitable in the right circumstances, turning into as much of a chatterer as Goose used to be. It isn't a wonder where he picked it up now. After all, Goose was likely the first to listen to him talk about something he liked for an hour without telling him to shut up about it. 

          Silently, Slider wonders how long it took Pete to stop apologizing for it like he does with them. 

          Even Ice has picked up on that one, and he's an only child. The day before yesterday, they drove by an aviation museum and Pete spouted off facts about fixed-wing planes and the different engines in them for five minutes before clamming up and saying he was sorry. Ice, however, gently redirected him back onto the subject and asked him to continue while never letting onto the fact that he took the scenic route home. 

          They were in the car for a while; the kid knows a lot about his engines. 

          He did the same thing with the arresting wires on the Enterprise while they were waiting to go home, explaining their inner workings as if he were a mechanical engineer rather than a pilot. 

          Though, he's probably both. They haven't exactly asked about his education. All they know is that he didn't go to the naval academy and must have a college degree of some kind. Although, the more they learn about him, the more Slider believes Pete must have more than one, maybe more than two. The kid is smart.

          Goose caught on early. 

          It's about time someone else got with the program. 

Chapter Text

          "March 29th, 1977. Day 7. He's still shy. Wouldn't talk to Ma and Pa this morning even though I offered him an extra brownie if he'd at least say hi. His name's all I've gotten out of him, but that's good enough for me. He'll warm up to them. It might just take some time. A lot of it.

          'I ain't never met a kid so spookish, but he's cute, so he's got that going for him. Anyone else would think I'm kidding, but he charmed the pants off Mrs. Stimes the other day without saying a word. If those sad eyes of his couldn't sway even the worst hardass teacher at this school, I'd be surprised. Unfortunately, it didn't keep him safe from assholes who just don't give a shit about hurting an adorable kid.

          'He's hurting today.

          'He didn't say so yet, but I figure he is. I think he must've done something to his ribs while he was sleeping, but I'm gonna have to wait until Ma and Pa are both gone again to check him out.

          'It took a few minutes of convincing, but I got him to agree to another bath. Pete was trying to hide his ribs from me when I helped him tug his shirt off. Said they hurt in the quietest voice I've ever heard, like he was afraid I'd throw him out the door if he complained. I believe him about them hurting. The bruising looked a lot better, though, so it must just be a bad day.'

-------  

          'School wasn't bad. He came with me this time, and all the teachers were happy to see us.

          'I didn't tell them his name is Pete yet. He didn't seem like he wanted them to know last time, and I figure he could tell 'em himself if he wanted to for sure this time.'

-------  

          'I carried him home again.

          'I'm worried he was up all night, because he was so tired by the end of classes. I made sure he had breakfast and a good lunch just like every day. He didn't seem to have any troubles the first time we walked to and from school, but.... I don't know. I'm worried.

          'As soon as he came in, I told Pa about it, and Pa frowned real serious. He took Pete's temp, and it was a tiny bit elevated but within the normal range.

          'Pete blinked up at him, all confused like, and Pa gave his hair a real gentle pat, told him he was okay. I don't think the kid was quite sure how to take it, but he didn't shy too far in the attempt, so I think it went over well. He's more scared of Pa than just about anyone. I'd for sure call it improvement. I took a picture of 'em, just because.

          'He's asleep again for now. Always seems to be in the early evening, but I'm gonna keep a better eye on him.'

-------  

          'I got Pete to take the guest room again for the night for those ribs. I know he prefers the couch, but it can't be easy on him.'

-------  

          'About ten minutes ago, I heard the kid shuffling again. It's almost midnight, and I promised myself the next time I noticed, I'd check in on him. He was under the covers making those whimpering noises again. I hate those. He sounds so scared.

          'He noticed as soon as I stepped over the threshhold. Of course, he did.

          'I asked him how he was doing, if he needed anything. He got up, stole the comforter off the bed, and just.... Well, the only way to describe it is slinking. He slinked after me back to my room and curled up at the foot of my bed. That honestly can't feel good on his ribs, but... at least it's a bed. Right?

          'I've been watching over him for a while now, unable to sleep, but he seems content. He's barely more than a gray lump at the end of the bed, snoozing right along. There's a first.' Slider stops reading, arching a brow. "Huh. I didn't realize that was a thing he just... did." 

          Ice offers him a quizzical look. "He's done that to you before?" 

          "Sure. A few different times on the ship while we were bunked up with him and Merlin. I didn't see anything wrong with holding him for a bit, and he was always gone before I woke up again." 

          "How did I not notice that?" 

          "He was pretty stealthy about it, and I had the lower bunk, so it's not like he had to climb in or anything." Slider shrugs. "He's a little big to be doing that lump at the end of the bed thing anymore, so I'm glad he didn't try to slip in down by my feet or something. If it helps him sleep, I'm all for it, you know? It was... nice, knowing he wasn't having nightmares." 

          Ice nods, glancing at the other two. "Anyone else get the cuddle treatment?" 

          Holly and Wolf both shrug. "With our bunk towards the other end of the carrier, I'm guessing it was a lot quicker to just lie down with you, man. He was safe there and he knew it. Why go anywhere else?" 

          Slider tries not to let that make him feel special—and fails, of course, but it's the effort that counts. 

          "All right, so we're adding cuddling to the list," Ice says, huffing fondly and snagging the notepad from his RIO's knee. 

          "Hey, underline 'sleep', would you?" Wolf asks. "Sounds like that's gonna be the thing to watch." 

          Ice agrees without an ounce of fuss. 

Chapter Text

          "'March 30th, 1977. Day 8,'" Slider begins, tugging loose a pair of photos from a paperclip. "We've got two pictures here." A smile grows on his face. "One's Mav curled up on the couch in a quilt, and the other looks like.... Is this Goose's dad?" 

          The second one isn't the greatest quality, but in it, a taller fellow is knelt down in front of the couch, one hand holding a grainy object—more than likely a thermometer—and the other extended to Pete's hair. Just like Goose said, Pete seems to have no idea what to make of the touch, but the captured moment does have a certain... charm. 

          Ice smiles when he gets a look. "Aw. Goose must've taken this the day before." 

          "Hey, hey, lemme see," Wolf insists, melting the second he sees the two pictures. "Lookit Papa Goose, huh? It's no wondering where he got it from." 

          Hollywood takes a quick look before passing the photos back to Slider, the RIO tucking them back in their places with utmost care. 

          Slider swallows hard, once more skimming his thumb over the picture of Pete, a boy so lost even years after Goose met him that he still hasn't found his way. He can't imagine what Pete went through, but he'll be damned if he doesn't help him now. They all want to, even if Pete doesn't understand yet. 

          "Well?" Ice prompts. 

          "Right." Slider shakes himself from his thoughts. He's giving Pete a hug the second he gets home. "'Day 8. Pa says he's gonna stay home with Pete today. I'm gonna miss him while I'm at school. In the meantime, I'm gonna give him some more potato soup. You'd think I'd be tired of it by now, but I could live on the stuff for a good while if it meant Pete ate right. Today's fruit of choice is bananas. I don't think he likes bananas. I put pears back on the shopping list.'

-------  

          'It's official. I'm bored without him. The only thing I did today besides homework was shoot a rubber band into Mr. Lich's coffee mug. Nobody even saw it.'

-------  

          'The walk home is lonelier than I remember it being.'

-------  

          'When I came in the door, Pete stared at me with wide, scared eyes, pleading with me without a word never to leave him home by himself with Pa again. I know my Pa. He'd never lay a finger on the kid with intent to do harm, has been trying to show him that very fact in his own way, but I do feel guilty. After their interaction yesterday, I didn't see any reason they wouldn't be okay hanging out for the day, but I forgot Pete hadn't truly been alone, alone with him yet. Only reason we didn't want him at school was in case his exhaustion from yesterday resurfaced and it turned into something serious, but.... It was too soon. Too much too fast, and now he's terrified again. He probably didn't take one step off the couch all day. Feels like we're walking a tightrope, and one wrong move will send him running.

          'Ma, when she got home, told me I might need to stick close for a little while, something I've got no problem with. I want to.

          'We didn't mean to scare him.'

-------  

          'His blanket was gone from my bed tonight. He left it there this morning, but I think my going to school without him must've come across wrong or something, because he's back in the guestroom.'

-------  

          'He's shuffling again. I'm worried he's been moving and dreaming like this every night and I just wasn't aware of it because he was downstairs. He'll sleep wherever we put him because we're still feeding him, but I hope he got some decent rest. He needs it.'

-------  

          'I couldn't listen to him have nightmares anymore. I went to check on him. He caught me again, sat upright in the guestroom bed and just kinda stared at me for a minute. Pete looked so tired. I knew then I'd been wrong. He hadn't been sleeping better on the couch. He'd just been suffering in silence because he was too scared of being thrown out to ask for help. The couch was closer to the door, for sure, but was it making him feel alienated from the rest of our house to put him back there after offering him the bed once before? I'd bet my allowance on it.

          'Another mistake I won't make twice.

          'I sat beside him for a bit, didn't really know what to say before sticking with the tried-and-true question of if he needed anything.

          'That seemed to do the trick, because he gathered up the comforter on the bed and looked at me real innocent-like the way he seems prone. I realized he was asking for permission this time. What was I gonna do? Tell him no? I don't think so.

          'So, he's at the foot of my bed again. I know he hears me scribbling, but he's pretending for my sake that he doesn't. I don't think he knows that the majority of what I've been writing lately has been about him. I doubt he's looked, even though I can tell he's starting to get curious. It's a good sign, right? Means he feels safer? At least a little?

          'I dunno. It's so hard to tell. Starting to wish I could just read his mind.'

-------  

          'He's asleep. I stopped writing for a minute and he drifted right off. His breaths are a little uneven thanks to his ribs, but they're slow. I really wish he wasn't curled up like he is. I'd hate for 'em to get worse.

          'Long as he's asleep, I'll take what I can get.'

          Ice hums in agreement, then considers the rest of the journal entry. "It would be helpful sometimes to be able to read his mind, huh?" 

          "I dunno. I think that'd be a pretty scary place," Hollywood chuckles. "Although, with the way they were at Top Gun? I think Goose must've figured out the secret or something, because those two didn't need much for words outside the cockpit." 

          That's true enough, Slider supposes. 

          "Anything else from that day?" 

          Slider glances at Wolf then back to the page. "There's a sketch of Moxxie, but that's about it. See?" 

          "Aw." 

          "Moving on, then?" Ice asks. 

          With a faint noise of agreement, Slider turns the page. 

Chapter Text

          "'March 31st, 1977. Day 9. It's a cold one today. Almost didn't notice because the end of my bed was warm thanks to the kid. I don't mind, but yeesh! The cold floor gave us both quite a shock. Pete hopped back up on the bed and clutched his side, looking like he regretted getting up. Sprung ribs do not look like fun.

          'At least he didn't hurt 'em worse.

          'He's doing okay, though. Two nights of better sleep and he's looking all right again, thank goodness.

          'I gave him a pair of thicker socks because I know he gets cold easy. When we went downstairs, Ma immediately gave Pete a cozy sweater, said she found one in his size that he might like. The look he gave her, like he'd never imagined she'd actually buy something for him. He's just been wearing my old stuff. I don't mind, of course. Doesn't fit me anyways, but he seems to like it.

          'He took the sweater, though. Made her smile something fierce.

          'Pete didn't, but he looked grateful anyhow.

          'I'm gonna get him to smile. Somehow. I said I would before, but I mean it.'

-------  

          'We're at school once again. I warmed up about twenty minutes after we came inside, but Pete's still shivering and it's been two hours. He wasn't so bad the other day, but in fairness, it was a little warmer then. At this point, I should just bundle him up like a little burrito in the coat I keep in my locker.

          'Results pending.'

-------  

          'My teachers are real curious now. Can't say I'm surprised, because this shrimp of a kid is doing the same homework I am. I wish I knew how old he was, because I'm really starting to doubt he's ten. I wonder if my ma actually thought he was, or if she said that for my benefit so I wouldn't worry so much. A little late for that, considering I've been worrying about him since the first minute we met, but I can't say I blame her if that's the case.

          'Anyways, what I was trying to say was that they were curious enough to give him higher level homework. Math was good, fantastic even. It always is with him. English was... complicated. His reading comprehension is much better than his own personal grammar, but his handwriting looks like someone drilled him four hours a day on it.

          'Maybe they did. Maybe that's why he looked nervous when I asked about it before.

          'Science went okay. He seemed to like it pretty well. History, on the other hand.... It was bad. Real bad. He didn't even make it through the first page before looking up at me with this helpless expression.

          'He looked scared. Again. Scared he'd be punished for something that wasn't even his fault.

          'Every day, I see it, and every day I get softer on him and madder than a cat in a paper sac at whoever put that look on his face. I've determined that one day, I'll never see it again. He's mine, and I'll knock the lights out of anyone who tries to say otherwise.'

          "Not unexpected," Wolf chuckles. 

          Ice and Slider both huff a laugh of equal fondness and exasperation. That Goose would be moved to violence in roughly 0.3 seconds on Mav's behalf comes as no surprise. 

          Hollywood shrugs. "I'd punch somebody for him too if they made him look like that." 

          Slider hums in agreement, flipping to the next page and continuing onward. "'Anyhow, I let him know it wasn't his fault, that I'd help him catch up, and that nobody minded he wasn't perfect.

          'He was skeptical. I just patted his hair and we packed up to go to music class.'

-------  

          'I'd say I'm shocked he didn't sing, but I'm not. I'm not convinced he'll want to sing even if he does start talking more. The look he shot the music teacher when she handed him pages today was an insulted one.

          'Fair. Handing a kid who doesn't want to talk sheet music could be considered rude.'

-------  

          'When we got home from school, the first thing I did was put some wood in the stove in the basement. Pete followed me the whole time, looking adorably curious. He poked around a little bit, putting his chilly little hands directly on the warming face of it.

          'I felt a little bad having to tell him it'd get too hot eventually. He seemed to enjoy it.

          'Instead, we hung out on the couch for a little while and I made him hot chocolate. He acted like he'd never seen it before, and I'm gonna be honest, if I ever meet anyone from this kid's past, they're gonna wish we never crossed paths. The number of times Pete must've been denied basic human needs or decency to get to this point must be astronomical. I knew in theory that it was bad because I've seen his scars, but the more I learn, the more I realize I've only scratched the surface.

          'I don't know how anyone could be so cruel. He's just a kid, a really cute, really traumatized kid.

          'It's not fair.'

-------  

          'Bath time once again. I know I probably could let him do it himself, but reaching around himself with his ribs hurt would be awful. I don't want him to strain himself. That, and the way he relaxes when I scrub his hair is too good to pass up. He's like a water-loving cat.'

-------  

          'Pa is back. What he was up to so late, I've got no clue, but he came into the living room and dropped a blanket off with Pete. He said Ma picked up the materials and asked one of our neighbors to sew it and they called to say it was finished. She came home to Pete looking ruffled and confused, but warm.

          'I think it's nice of 'em, but I do wonder if maybe he thinks they're trying to bribe him.

          'However, the gift did have at least one good outcome. He spoke to Ma for the first time to tell her thank you. The shock on his face when she leaned down to kiss his head is something I won't be forgetting anytime soon. Pete needs a lot of love, and we're gonna make sure he gets it.' Slider flips the page, scanning it before saying, "That's the end of Day 9." 

          "Well, shit," Ice sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face. "We've certainly got our work cut out for us. He still gets that wide-eyed look now when we give him affection." 

          "I suppose this does kind of explain why he's a bit of an attention whore," Slider chuckles. 

          While amused, the overall mood amongst them is sad. 

          "Goose did a good job always keeping his word to Mav, even in here. He got the kid to smile," Wolf says softly, and no one disagrees. 

Chapter Text

          "'March 31st, 1977. Day 10. Pete woke me up this morning. It's a Saturday, so I should've been sleeping in all morning, but he tugged on my arm until I rolled out of bed. He was all worked up about something, and whatever it was seemed important. He gave me one last shake before pointing out the window.

          'It had snowed overnight. I didn't think anything of it, of course. It had snowed and cleared off a couple weeks before I found him.

          'I don't know where he came from, how he ended up in the middle of nowhere Tennessee, but somehow, he'd never seen such heavy snow before. He probably came from somewhere warmer to the south would be my guess. He was real excited about it. I could tell because his eyes were all happy and hopeful. I have no idea why such a cold-body would want to go outside and touch snow, but that's what he wanted, so that's what we did. We built a snowman.

          'Well, I built a snowman. He spent most of the time eating snow and watching Moxxie prance around. I figure it wouldn't be too good for his ribs to be wrestling with her or bending over to roll snowballs, and I sure as shootin' would never throw snowballs at him right now. He seemed content to watch, fascinated by the icicles hanging over the porch overhang. I gave him one to eat, just because.

          'It's the happiest I've seen him so far; although, it didn't last long once he started shivering. After that, it was a quick trip inside to change into dry clothes and warm up by the stove. Pa made us hot chocolate.

          'Pete gave Pa one of his kinda searching looks again. I think if it were anyone else, he'd be hurting my old man's feelings by showing so much distrust all the time.'

------  

          'He fell asleep pretty much as soon as he cozied up on the couch in the blanket Ma got him. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised he has so little energy, but it still worries us to see him sleeping in the middle of the day.

          'I'm keeping an eye on him.'

-------  

          'Ma sat me down in the kitchen toward the tail end of Pete's nap, said she was checking around for some information on Pete. Real careful-like, of course, because we don't want someone to take him away from us before he's healthy. Anyways, Ma told me no one's filed a missing persons report or is even searching for him.

           'I figured I'd be mad if no one was looking for him, but I'm actually glad. I'm glad whoever broke his ribs and scarred him up isn't looking, so I can keep him. Well. We, I suppose. Ma and Pa have fallen for him, too.

          'Not a shock, really.'

-------  

          'Today's new form of sustenance is chicken noodle soup.

          'He ate two servings, so I figure he likes it. Although, he did give us a funny look when Pa handed it to him in a coffee mug rather than a bowl. We've always done it that way.'

-------  

          'Pa and I went out to do some chores for a little while. That's how it usually is, but I've been so preoccupied with Pete recently that he's been shouldering it all alone. I feel a bit bad, but not enough to feel truly sorry even though I apologized. Pa understood.

          'We talked for a little while about Pete, about what we'd do if someone did come to take him away or if we tracked down enough of his personal information to officially take him in under our roof. I want him to stay more than anything. It's been good having someone else around, and Pa promised he and Ma would try. Unfortunately for me, we can't do any looking or paperwork or nothin' if we don't know anything about Pete, so I'm gonna have to start prying.

          'I think that'll do more harm than good, maybe even make him think we're wanting to figure out who to hand him off to, so I'm gonna explain it to him.

          'I'm telling him we want to keep him, that we want him to stay with us.'

-------  

          'Maybe going outside wasn't such a swell idea for the kid. Pete's still cold, even with hot soup in him and warm clothes on his back. I went to give him a hug, just because, and his little hands were like ice! I nearly jumped out of my skin. He startled back like he was afraid I was gonna get mad.

          'I could never, and I made sure to let him know it right quick by giving him another hug and letting him put his freezing mitts on the back of my neck.

          'He tried to pull away before he was warm and I held him there real gentle, told him it was okay when he asked in that quiet, unused voice of his. I don't know how anyone could look at Pete and not care that he was suffering. He's so little and so hurt, and it makes me mad that even the first time I saw him, someone was showing him the kind of indifference that brought him here in the first place.

          'I sat him down at the foot of my bed so we could talk in private, and I explained the whole thing. Told him we were gonna do our best to ensure he stayed with us.

          'He just stared at me like I was speaking French or something.

          'I understood. A little, anyway. I know I'll never be able to see the world through his eyes because my parents never once expressed a desire to get rid of me. Ma might swat me with dish towels here and there when I'm being obnoxious, but she's smiling the whole time. I can only imagine how Pete would react to that. Healthy scolding, I mean.

          'My hope is that one day, he'll see we care what happens to him. I'll do my best to help him along.'" Slider stops, pins down the page, and reaches for the water glass Ice insisted they bring. "Done with Day 10, by the way."

          "You know, every time I think Pete's past can't get sadder, Goose goes ahead and makes it worse," Wolf says, clearing his throat. "The kid didn't even think anyone would want him." 

          Ron nods solemnly, scrubbing his face for what feels like the five-hundredth time since they started reading. Pete has come so far from where he started all those years ago, regressed who only knows how much since Goose's death, and he probably hasn't grasped yet that his classmates have taken up the duty of caring how he is, where he's at, or if he needs anything. 

          "Worst case scenario," Ice replies, "-we'll sit him down like Nick did and explain it to him real slow." 

          "We'll get through that thick skull one way or another," Slider agrees, coughing faintly. "I think that's all for me. Holly, you want next?" 

          Hollywood scoots closer to them, taking the journal from Slider. "Everybody good?" 

          "You mean aside from the fact that I'm crying?" Wolf sniffs. "Peachy." 

          "Then let's keep going." Hollywood runs his finger along the page to find where Ron left off. "We only have nine years to go." 

Chapter Text

          "'April 1st, 1977. Day 11. This'll be the first day in years I haven't actively participated in some kind of April Fools joke for the first of this month, mostly because I'm not at school, but also because I figure Pete wouldn't take it well. Ma asked him if he wanted to come to service with them today but, like I figured, the answer was no.

          'I can't blame him. That's a long time to sit still near a lot of unfamiliar adults. School's easy. The kids are his age. Maybe. I haven't asked how old he is yet, but I'm still leaning towards older than ten.

          'Once again, I stayed with him, and this time I said my prayers over a bagel and a bowl of frosted flakes. I let Pete try a little dry. A few sugary flakes wouldn't hurt him, I didn't think. Although, I guess it doesn't matter, since he didn't seem to like 'em that much. I let him nibble on a pear and another brownie instead, which he appreciated. Today's the first day he didn't sit himself on the couch away from the kitchen to eat, and that curiousness from before emerged full force today. He looked around the kitchen, taking in Ma's spice rack, and her apron hanging on the side of the fridge, and any number of bits and bobs.

          'Taking in the sights, for some reason. I ain't sure yet what he's so curious about, but like I said before, curiosity is probably a good thing.

          'I asked him how his ribs were, too, even though I'd just seen 'em the night before, and he just shrugged at me. They hurt, I bet, like usual, but he hasn't asked for anything for 'em once in all the time he's been here. Maybe I should've been giving him painkillers all along, but I don't think he'd have trusted them when I first found him.

          'It couldn't hurt to ask.'

-------  

          'He took a singular tablet of ibuprofen. I guess it'll have to be good enough. I doubt I'll convince him to take more.'

-------  

          'The snow's melting off already in the sun. Pete doesn't look too put out, since he decided we needed to go sit on the porch and enjoy the warmth. Is Ma's favorite quilt a little damp now? Yes. But by the time she and Pa get home, no one will be the wiser.

          'Moxxie's absolutely thrilled to have another person on the place to lavish her in attention, and she sat right in front of Pete for half an hour while he scratched her ears. She was such a good girl for him, I gave her a rare treat. We try not to feed her too many, but this one was deserved. Although, Pete did look mildly perturbed when he smelled his hands after we went back inside. I had to be the one to tell him that's just how wet dogs smell, and a pretty put-out expression flickered over his face.

          'I washed my hands just to set a good example for him. After all, who knows where she's been?'

-------  

          'I wasn't quite sure how to broach the topic of Pete staying with us a second time, but I knew it needed to be done. As much as I wish we could just show up to some courthouse somewhere and say we're keeping this kid, we can't. If we're not careful, somebody might actually take him from us.

          'What's worse is they might take him back to wherever it was he ran away from in the first place. Of all the things I already hate about his situation, I couldn't stand knowing we got him sent back somewhere he'll be hurt again. So, I talked to him for a little while, asked him where he was from, the whole nine yards. At first, I wasn't sure he'd answer, but he did admit his parents were long gone, and that while they were around, he was raised in Cali. That's a long ways from Tennessee.

          'I did ask how he came all this way, but that's the part he got a little tetchy about. I promised him we weren't looking to contact anybody about him, just for more information so we could keep him like I explained to him before.

          'He still doesn't seem convinced about it, but who can blame him? I'd imagine he's been given plenty of reasons not to take people at their word.'

-------  

          'Ma and Pa came home about an hour ago, Ma with something tucked under her arm and Pa with a couple extra sacks of feed supplements. We went out to do chores, and this time, I invited Pete along. He lurked around in the barn for most of it, but when he set eyes on our sheep, he just stared and stared and stared. I don't think he'd ever seen any in person before. Course, that meant I had to let him pet one.

          'I had Moxxie sort 'em out so I could get to Brandy. She's the nicest out of all of 'em, and she walked right over to Pete, friendly as can be. Pete made a bit of a face when he touched her, looked up at me all betrayed and muttered that he thought they were supposed to feel soft.

          'When Pete spoke, I saw Pa's head jerk up from where he was working in the barn stalls. I guess it hadn't really occurred to me that while Pete had thanked Ma, he'd never actually spoken up around Pa yet. We'll get there one day.

          'I had to laugh though. Sheep do feel soft. Sort of. But while the wool is on the sheep, it's probably coarser than most people would expect.

          'He stuck to petting Brandy's face after that.'

-------

          'I knew it was time to wind down when Pete started looking sleepy. I made sure to put a little more soup in his tummy, then brushed my teeth, and put us both to bed. Sure, it was a little earlier than I usually went, but I don't mind.

         'One of these days, I'm gonna convince him he doesn't need to sleep at the foot of the bed. It's gotta be cramped down there, especially with his ribs in a bad way. One problem at a time, I suppose.'" Hollywood stops, glancing at the beginning of the next page. "End of Day 11. That wasn't so bad." 

          Ice huffs softly. "Compared to the other shit we've read, yeah." 

          "It's kinda... nice, in a way," Slider replies, thoughtful. "Knowing how he turned out, I mean. He's a good kid." 

          "There is that." 

          "Just a shame we had to loose Goose to realize it, huh?" Wolf murmurs.

          A solemn silence passes over the group, but after a beat, Ice clears his throat, scrubs at his eyes, and offers them a much-needed reprieve. "I think it's time for lunch. Anyone hungry?" 

          Hollywood isn't bothered to be stopping so soon after he started reading. "Lunch sounds good." 

          They spend twenty minutes downstairs in Carole's kitchen, camped out around the table and pretending they aren't all focused, hearts and minds, on their youngest member. Hollywood throws a glance Slider's way when he hears the scratching of a pen and finds the RIO writing "Gifts that are Soft" in Ice's pocket notebook. 

          It's a sweet gesture from the normally surly man, and Hollywood hides a small smile behind his coffee mug. 

Chapter Text

          The return to day twelve sobers them, even if they'd rather it didn't, and soon enough, the four of them settle back down on the guestroom bed to read. Hollywood picks up where he left off, clearing his throat and taking a sip of water. "Okay. 'April 2nd, 1977-' I-.... What is this?" 

          Ice's brow creases with worry. "What?" 

          "This picture pinned to the first... page," Holly trails off. "There's more. Oh, fuck. I think these are pictures of Mav's bruising." 

          They all share looks filled with various levels of concern. 

          "You know what, I don't want to see. Just.... Just read the entry and pray the pictures have nothing to do with it," Slider says, his jaw clenching. "I loved Goose as much as any of us, but he's bordering on too thorough in these damn things." 

          Bordering, Ice supposes, because when it comes to Mav, one can never be too thorough. 

          Hollywood clearly agrees, because he doesn't offer to show them any pictures. Instead, he pinches his brow and shakes his head. "All right. Shit." He sighs. "'Day 12. School. Again. Ugh. At least the weather's above freezing again. The snow's going away as fast as it came, and as excited as Petey was to see it, I think he's equally as excited to see it go. The kid does not like being cold. Ha!

          'At least he got to enjoy it a little bit before they became sworn enemies.

          'Pete came around a little slower this morning. I don't think he had any nightmares like he'd been having in his room, so I don't know why it'd happen, but I think he's having another down day. I don't know if it's just a result of him being hungry for a while or if that's just the way he is, but it worries me. I'm not gonna bring it up this time, because Ma and Pa might make him stay home again, and he didn't like that. As much as I'd like to think that one day home with Pa might've warmed him to my old man a little bit, I somehow doubt it. And it kinda seemed like he took it personal, like he thought I didn't want him around. I never meant to hurt his feelings. I'll just take him with and make sure nobody bothers him with any homework or nothin'.

          'At least, I hope I can manage that. Teachers might have come up with something for him to do, but who knows? Maybe he'll like it.'

-------  

          'Pete really needs to put on some weight. He can barely hold any body heat, and I've practically got him tucked under my wing right now. He's wearing my coat and everything, but he's still absorbing all my body heat like some kind of..., I don't know, a shivering little sponge.

          'If he weren't almost asleep on me, he might realize I was writing about him.

          'Poor thing. I just wish I knew why he was so tired.'

-------  

          'He's asleep. He is legitimately asleep.

          'Oh, kiddo. What's the matter?'

-------  

          'Mrs. Stimes brought him a blanket during her class. It was a good thing she had us watch a movie and turned all the lights off. I'm with her for the next two class periods since she teaches my study hall, too, and she's filling in for another teacher after that, so Pete should be able to sleep for a little while.

          I've been distracted all day, of course, so my homework is suffering for it, but I don't really care. I just want to get home and take Pete's temperature or something. If it's not a sleep-related issue, it could turn out to be something more serious.'

-------  

          'Pete perked up a little after lunch. He's not as energetic as he was yesterday, but it's better than this morning. Seemed pretty alert, actually, like he was on edge about something. I kept an eye out, but I'd bet a dollar he was dreaming. Maybe not a nightmare, but dreaming about something that made him nervous.

          'It could be anything, really. After all, he was scared of Moxxie, and Moxxie's a sweetie.

          'Anyhow, I'm really not looking forward to walking back home this afternoon. At least it'll be warmer than it was early this morning, but... still. Maybe it's the cold that keeps setting him back, because he was doing fine for the first little while. I'm gonna make sure he stays cozy the whole way and put warm food in his tummy the second we get back. I don't want to see him backslide to how he was this morning.

          'I'm not gonna leave him home again if it can be helped. Not until he stops being scared of my parents.'

-------  

          'He was stubborn about being carried when he was still wide awake and able to walk under his own power, but I got him to agree to wear my heavy coat over his own layers. It's over fifty, and I'll be moving, so I'll be just fine. We'll see if we get all the way home before he caves to get warm again.'

-------  

          'I swear, this kid is gonna kill me. He spent the walk home clinging to my front like a koala. Not because he got cold this time, but because he heard something when we were about halfway home and practically pounced on me. I had to stop for a few minutes to calm him down. It was just some turkeys trying to find a good spot to roost. Happens all the time out here, especially at night. I'll have to let Pa know to bring the sheep in tonight, though. Sometimes, they attract coyotes.

          'Pete was making those scared little noises again. Makes my heart hurt every time I hear 'em. I'm sure they hurt his chest, too, so I'll offer him another painkiller when we get home.

          'He spooks so easy. I'll add it to the list of things I'd like to try to ease.'

-------  

          'Ma was already home when we got there, and when she saw me come in with the kid attached to my chest, she just chuckled and told us both to wash up. I wonder why she's home early today. Pete stayed stuck to me pretty much until I told him it was safe. I checked him out to make sure he hadn't hurt himself trying to meld himself to me.

          'One thing I have noticed is that, no matter how freaked out he gets, he doesn't really cry. I'd almost think it was a good thing if not for everything else I've learned about him. I'm just glad he feels safe enough to let me know when something's wrong, even if he doesn't quite know how to verbalize it. What little he does verbalize is probably a miracle.

          'After all, he wrinkled his nose a bit while he was washing his hands, asked me if those were really turkey noises or if I was making stuff up.

          'Petey is just the cutest thing when he's not scaring the shit out of me.

          'Unfortunately, I'm sensing a theme.'" Hollywood breaks of with a snort. "Ain't that the fucking truth, huh, fellas?" 

          Ice nods in agreement. In all honesty, he's just happy nothing really turned out to be wrong aside from Pete's recurrent exhaustion. He figures it plagued the poor kid for a good while even with Goose's nose for trouble on the case. Malnutrition isn't something one fixes in a week or two. 

          "That the end of it?" Slider asks. 

          "Yup. Day 12, done and done." 

          "Thank goodness for that." The RIO scrubs a hand through his curls. "All this stuff already happened and it's still giving me anxiety over Mav." 

          The group shares a faint laugh. It seems in all the years since Mav and Goose met, Maverick's luck hasn't changed at all, nor has his inquisitive nature. Much like Goose observed in prior entries, he loves to learn and check out new and interesting things. The most noticeable changes in him echo the silent commitments Nick made to him. 

          It's an enlightening thing, seeing just how much Mav grew by the time he arrived at Top Gun. 

Chapter Text

          "'April 3rd, 1977, Day 13. I don't even know what to say today.

          'Maybe I should've expected this. After all, I've been mulling Pete's situation for a good while now and have been wondering the whole time. Did Ma know? I'd guess. She and Pa both probably did the second they laid eyes on him.

          'I sat him down again, tried to coax him into telling me a bit more about himself over breakfast, and now I know the truth.

          'Petey is fourteen.

          'This tiny, battered, skittish kid is fourteen years old. That lines up a whole lot better with how smart he is, but he looks a max of ten like Ma said, and even then, ten is generous.

          'I went quiet after he told me that, didn't realize that was a bad response to have until his breath started picking up and he apologized to me like he'd done something wrong. I can barely wrap my head around it. Who could do that to a kid? How did he end up so underfed that he's years behind in his development? How far has he had to run between here and Cali to find safety in the arms of my family?

          'And who in the ever-loving fuck made him feel like he had to apologize for living?

          'I gotta stop thinking about this for a little while, maybe go cuddle Pete for a few minutes before we leave for school. Like he deserves. He deserves so, so much better than any of the shit that's happened to him. I don't even know about anything besides the injuries already on him, but I don't have to to know that he didn't deserve a single second of what happened to him after his parents died. I'm gonna give this kid the world. He's not gonna know what to do with it, but I'm gonna do it.

          'He's gonna be happy, even if that means navigating the minefield of his past to truly bring him home.'

          'I've made so many promises that I need a bulleted list at this point, but if that's how it's gotta be, then that's how it's gotta be.'

-------

          'I got Pete into his coat and shoes for school, snuck him yet another brownie, and kept him tucked under my arm the whole way into town. The kid clearly didn't know what to think of the whole thing, probably wondered what I was thinking every second since we left, but that's okay. He'll learn.

          'As usual, he was cold by the time we got to school. I don't even know why we're back this week. We've only got today left before spring break starts, and then we'll have the rest of the week to do nothing.'

-------

          'Pete was energetic enough for math today.

          'I think something might be a bit off, though. Not with Pete this time, but with the superintendent. Everyone but him has been keeping their thoughts to themselves, but today I caught him staring. He played it off, tried to pretend he wanted my attention for something, but I know a lie when I see one.

          'Now, I'm worried, and I'm gonna tell Ma and Pa when we get home.'

-------

          'On the way back, I got the chance to show Pete the turkeys he heard yesterday, showed him there was nothing really to be afraid of the same as we did with Moxxie. They were roosting in the treetops, and he just watched 'em for a little while, taking in their soft gobbling.

          'I suppose it'd be startling to hear them for the first time. I do wonder how many things he's experiencing for the first time out here, and how much of it is good and how much is bad. Snow was clearly a new one for him to experience in person, even if he didn't end up liking it in any capacity other than aesthetically. With Moxxie.... I do still wonder why he was so scared of her, but maybe it was because she's half his size. Either way, I hope to get some more good experiences under his belt.

          'No one should live under the axe, always seeing the worst humanity has to offer. I think the point he'll really blossom is when he learns not every parent would raise a hand to him. Mine certainly won't.

          'Honestly, if he'd been around when Harry got paddled, who knows if Petey would still be here. Maybe he'd have run.

          'If he does somehow get in trouble at school, I'll take it for him.

          'I doubt it'll happen. All our teachers like him well enough, but... still. Just in case. I won't let anybody touch him with intent to do harm, not ever. Not if I can help it. I don't think my poor heart could take it.'

-------

          'Ma looked worried when I told her the superintendent was snooping around. Told me to be prepared for the possibility of somebody stopping by to look for Pete.

          'And to be ready to hide him.

          'When I explained to Pete he'd have to hide if somebody showed up, he just looked at me all wide-eyed, like he didn't think we'd bother. He's wearing enough of my old hand-me-downs to claim it's still only me as a dependent around here, and it's not like Pete brought much with him except the clothes on his back. We burned them already, so no worries there.

          'As for the guest bed, we made it back up. Pete didn't like it much when we had to put his pilfered comforter back on the bed, but I made things real simple by putting the quilt Ma had made for him in my room under my comforter.

          'Who knows? Maybe I'll get him to stop sleeping curled up at the foot of the bed this way. Not a great bright side when put up against losing Pete to the foster system, but it's still a bright side.'

-------

          'I've been up all night. Pete is sleeping against my chest, more soundly than any night since he arrived, but I can't stop thinking. I can't stop thinking they're gonna come to steal him away, that he'll go back wherever it was he ran away from in the first place and be stuck in a loveless home. That they'll hurt him. My lungs get tight just thinking about it.

          'They're coming, and I'm so scared they'll take him.

          'They're coming.'"

          For a long time, none of them say anything, letting the silence hang and Goose's fear linger. Slider swallows hard. How stressful must it have been back then to wonder if, at any minute, someone could show up and tell the young Bradshaw that Pete couldn't stay with them any longer? He can imagine it would've crushed Goose. 

          Just from what they've read, it's obvious people like Goose well enough, but everyone he mentioned in the entries, he only mentions in passing if it's not Pete or his parents. Given, everyone else's entries might be in Nick's other journals, but it doesn't seem like it. 

          For being so charming and playful, Nick may not have had all that many close friends. 

          Maybe, just maybe, Nick was a lonely soul just like Pete when they met. It's no wonder they latched onto one another, never letting go. The older of them died, and Pete still holds his brother's memory oh-so very close. 

          "Wolfy, would you just-" Hollywood croaks. "I can't-" 

          His RIO wraps an arm around him, looking more serious than any of them have ever seen him. "One entry at a time, man. We'll get through this." 

          Because they did, goes unsaid. 

          Maverick and Goose made it through so much, only for Goose and all his promises to be crushed callously in one unforgettable, but fleeting moment, leaving poor Maverick behind, alone again after so little time with his brother. 

          Slider doesn't utter a single protest when his pilot tips against his shoulder in search of his support. "Read on, Holly," he murmurs, taking a big swig of his water and wishing it was something stronger. He imagines they'll be nowhere near finished reading the journals by the time they pour the first drinks over their shared sorrow for their friends. 

          Only nine fucking years to go.