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Chapter Text

Death seemed to be a constant companion to Maverick's life. First his dad was taken while in service, then his mom followed shortly after by her own hand. Several years down the road, his brother in all but blood was lost by Maverick's own mistake. Now here they were, present day, and he was about to lose his sister figure. 

The feelings of hopelessness, despair, and exhaustion both mentally and physically were all too familiar as Maverick sat in yet another waiting room, counting the minutes until he would be allowed back to see Carole. He had been granted a small reprieve by one of the flyboys taking Bradley out for the day (it was testament to Mav's fatigue that he couldn't recall exactly who had clapped him on the shoulder and told him that they had his godson).

The boy was old enough to understand what was happening, but still young enough that the promise of an outing was enough to get him to leave for a little while. However, before he had gone he had tugged on Maverick's hand until his godfather had been eye to eye with him. 

"Promise you'll stay with her until I get back."

Pete's heart broke again. Staying with her was the least he could do. Goose should be here. If there had been a way to trade places-

Not allowing anyone more time to wallow, the flyboy had gently guided Bradley out the door and another presence filled the void. 

Maverick didn't look to see who it was but took a small comfort that they were there. Instead he hung his head, leaned heavily on his knees, and just went back to waiting. He was in a strange limbo of anticipation and dread. He needed to get up, to move, to do something. But there was nothing he could do that would help the situation. His sister was dying down the hall and he had to wait for a doctor to allow him back there to sit with her. Too tired to pace but too awake to sleep, he remained in that hazy limbo.

"-long has he been like that?"

"A couple hours now. He hasn't responded to anything I've said."

Maverick blinked, things beginning to filter back into his brain. Someone was still next to him and was talking about him. Looking over, the mental fog cleared just enough to see Slider standing to his right and Ice being the one sitting next to him. 

When they saw him move, relief showed on their faces. 

"Hey, Mav. Are you with us, bud?"

He ran a hand over his face in an attempt to wake himself up. All that motion did was remind him that he hadn't shaved in a while. "'m here."

A bottle of water was held in front of his face. He took it and realized his hands were shaking. He was glad neither aviator asked how he was doing. However, he knew the silence wouldn't last when these two were on a mission. 

Thankfully before either could open their mouths to ask, Carole's doctor walked out to the waiting room. Maverick shot up and ignored the wave of lightheadedness that accompanied the action. At his unspoken question, the doctor shook his head. 

"I'm sorry son. There's no change. She's awake right now if you want to go back."

Maverick was already moving before the doctor had finished. The man turned to Ice and Slider when Ron asked "How much longer does she have left?"

Well familiar with these other men due to how many times he'd seen them around his patient's family, he felt comfortable enough to reply. "Days at most. It all comes down to her. All we can do at this point is make her comfortable."

Hearts breaking, the three remaining men had a moment of silence. Then Tom shook the doctor's hand. "Thanks doc. We're going to go keep an eye on them." The man waved them through and they followed the now too familiar path down the hall to Carole's room. 

The door was ajar and Slider could see that Mav had resumed his position in the uncomfortable chair next to the bed, hunched over, and holding Carole's hand. His other hand would usually be smoothing her hair, but instead it was being used to prop up the aviator's head. 

Playing both bodyguard and watchman, Slider stayed beside the door while Ice moved further in and sat on Carole's other side. She said something too quietly for Ron to catch but he heard his pilot respond in the affirmative. Maverick didn't say anything, but he could tell by the other man's body language and expression he was miserable and exhausted but putting on a front for his sister who was too far gone at this point to notice. 

Carole fell asleep again shortly after that, no longer having the energy or stamina for long periods of consciousness. Once she did so, the careful mask Pete had been keeping up cracked and fell along with the tears he had been suppressing. Ice carefully set Carole's other hand on the bed and went around to hold his wingman. Mav slumped gratefully against him and even though his face was now obscured from Slider's sight, he could still make out the hitched breathing that accompanies heavy crying. 

His own heart breaking for his brother and the kid Carole was about to leave behind, Slider glanced out into the hall to try and distract himself. Right there and then he vowed to himself yet again that Maverick and Bradley wouldn't be alone. He knew the other flyboys and even Viper and his family were more than willing to just be there for the two. The upcoming weeks were going suck ass (even more than the previous ones had) but he wouldn't be anywhere else in the world. 

Chapter Text

A few hours later, several sets of footsteps nearby made Ron look up. Bradley rushed by him to enter Carole's room and see his mom. Hollywood, who had taken him out for the afternoon, appeared around the corner a moment later. At Slider's shake of his head letting him know nothing had changed, he relaxed minutely. 

"I think I managed to distract him for a little while. He kept asking when we could go back." Leo said quietly, glancing past Ron into the room. 

Slider nodded. "She's been in and out all day. Pete finally broke down with Tom beside him. I still don't think he's slept yet though."

Both RIO's frowned, worried for their brother. He wasn't the best at taking care of himself on a good day, but in the weeks since Carole's diagnosis, he had also started looking worse for wear. 

In fact, Ron was convinced the only reason Mav hadn't fully succumbed was Bradley. The last remaining member of the Bradshaws had unknowingly kept his godfather from fully spiraling. However as the hours passed, that tenuous thread grew thinner and thinner as Maverick's control continued to fray. He spoke little, reacted to less, and had nearly forgone his own needs completely. 

Around nineteen hundred hours, Wolf had brought up a tray of various foodstuffs for the room along with the best coffee the hospital had to offer (which wasn't great, but being in the Navy, their bar was low.) At the smell of coffee, Pete perked up a little as he had definitely been fading. As it was, he didn't even realize the cup he had been given was decaf. He chugged it down, disregarding the temperature, desperate for the substance to help keep him awake just that little bit longer. 

Placebo in effect for the time being, he sat up from the slump he had fallen in. Bradley had fallen asleep on Carole's side and the other flyboys were in various places around the room. Rubbing his sleep and tear swollen eyes, Maverick addressed the room. "Thank you all for sticking around."

Slider came over from the door. "There isn't anywhere else we'd rather be."

At that moment, Carole's eyes fluttered and she stirred. Everyone's attention turned back to her, and Maverick gently took her hand once more. "Hey Care, we are all here. Bradley is beside you. You're safe and being looked after." 

This was one of her more lucid times because recognition filled her eyes and she smiled faintly. "My boys." Her free hand carefully wrapped around her still sleeping son and she watched him fondly, if not sadly. After a few moments, she looked over. "Tom. Would you please take him out of here? I have something I need to discuss with Pete."

Without protest Tom stood from the other side of her bed and carefully eased the young boy into his arms. He then leaned over and whispered something into Carole's ear that made her smile faintly. The rest of the flyboys filed out of the room leaving Carole and Maverick alone. For some reason, Mav felt trepidation at whatever his sister was about to tell him but he bravely asked "What is it Care?"

Out in the hall, the rest of the aviators stood around, feeling drained and heartsick. They couldn't imagine how their youngest was feeling. 

"What do you think they're talking about?" Rick wondered aloud. 

Tom shook his head, mindful of the precious bundle he held in his arms. Whatever it was, he hoped it was cathartic for the two of them. 

Back inside the room, Maverick felt his heart drop to his boots. "Please. Ask me anything other than that." He begged. "Flying is in his blood. It's everything to him. Don't ask me to take that away from him."

Carole's strength was rapidly waning but she remained firm in her decision. "Please don't make me ask again, Pete. Nick was gone ahead of his time. I can't let Bradley do the same."

Maverick flinched. Carole's words were coming from a place of maternal fear for her only child but they still felt like a slap to the face. It would kill him to keep the child from his calling-flight was in his DNA, but if it would bring peace of mind to his dying sister, he would grant her that final request. "I promise Carole. I'll keep him alive." He blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay and clutched her hand as tightly as he dared. He didn't know what he'd do to fulfill his promise but he knew it would break his heart as well as Brad's. 

"Thank you Mav." Carole said, voice just as thick with emotion. She sighed tiredly and shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. They sat in heavy silence for a time before she continued. "Nick and I will be watching over all of you. I'll miss you, but it will be so good to see him again." Her gaze drifted somewhat blankly to the window. Mav watched in real time as she faded again. Not having had the luxury of witnessing death come slowly, he still instinctively knew it was coming. He longed to spend more time with Carole, but knew that was selfish. Instead, he stood and went to open the door to let the others back in. 

Slider looked up when the hospital room door opened again. If possible, Mav looked worse than he had before they had left. He had clearly been crying again, but something else had taken root and he looked like he was barely present. Sharing a quick look with his pilot, he saw Ice had witnessed the same thing. Having a silent conversation, they made a plan: Ice reentered the room with Wood and Wolf, getting Bradley situated back with his mom while Slider would take Mav somewhere to try and get some air and maybe allow him to speak his mind. 

With little prompting, Mav followed the guiding hand on his back to an empty hallway. He was trapped in his mind, wondering how he was going to manage losing another loved one and how he was going to keep his promise, and how he was going to manage his career as well as take care of Bradley. The spiraling was so intense he completely missed the concerned look on Slider's face that was rapidly changing to outright spooked. 

"Mav? Maverick, can you hear me? Come back, bud. One thing at a time." He took the smaller man into his arms and was concerned at how listless and cold he felt. Wondering if the other man was going into shock, he checked his eyes. "I'm here Pete. All of us are here. You're not alone in this."

Bit by bit, Maverick collected his wits back until he returned to the present moment. He felt Ron's hand rubbing a soothing circle on his back, heard the intentional deep even breaths of the taller man. He followed the breathing pattern until his settled and he found himself leaning more and more into the bigger man's hold. This wasn't over, not by a long shot, but he just had to take it a minute at a time and maybe eventually the pain would fade. 

"Thanks Sli." He croaked, stepping back and swiping at his eyes. 

"Anytime brother. Did you want to talk about what's going through your head?" Slider hadn't used to be a talker, he had been a more 'actions speak louder' guy. But then he had met his pilot back in flight school and if the Iceman was anything, he was meticulous and needed everything laid out. Slider had easily adapted and was thankful that he was now able to use those skills. 

The grief rose up again and Maverick swallowed it back down. He was not about to put that pain on anyone else. This was his promise he had made. His burden to carry. He hoped that if worse came to worse, then Bradley would trust the other flyboys and fall back on them. But for now, he had Carole's remaining days and he wanted to spend whatever time was left with her. 

"It's nothing. Just everything at once."

Ron felt like the other man was leaving something out but gave him the benefit of the doubt. It was hard seeing Goose's wife fading before their eyes; he couldn't imagine how hard it was on Maverick. 

"Well, the offer doesn't expire. If you need to talk, any of us are here to listen."

Maverick nodded, thoughts already turning back inward. He was shutting down but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He would have to survive on autopilot. Turning away from the proffered pack of crackers, he instead went back to the door. He wanted to see the Bradshaws again. 

Chapter Text

The rest of the week saw Carole in a steady decline. She was rarely awake anymore and lucid even less than that. The flyboys had come up with a rotating schedule so that she and the boys she was leaving behind were never alone. Bradley had been easier to handle: he was still young but had been more willing to take frequent breaks and be distracted elsewhere. His uncle was a completely different story. 

Having used up all his body's resources (and then some) he was still fighting to remain awake, unwilling to miss even a moment of Carole being conscious. Seeing him nodding off three times in as many minutes, Hollywood was about to put an end to it. Yes, it was hard to bear, but not taking care of himself was only making it harder for Mav. Getting up from the counter he had been leaning on, he approached the smaller man and gently touched his shoulder. 

"Hey, Mav. Why don't you lay down for a while? I've got this watch. She's not going anywhere."

Pete made a faint sound of protest but ultimately was too far gone to string two thoughts together. With Rick's help, he was guided to a pallet of blankets the flyboys had previously made to the side of the room. He flopped down and felt the blanket cover him. He didn't recall anything further than that. 

-loud shrill beeping. What was that? Scrunching his face, he tried to turn away from the noise but it persisted. Soon it was accompanied by rushed footsteps and voices. Struggling to bring his overtaxed brain back online, Maverick pushed himself up and worked on opening his eyes. 

The voices became more agitated which helped him fully wake. The beeping came from the machines surrounding Carole and the voices were the plethora of medical staff assisting her. 

"-BP dropping, pulse rate too."

"-give her .5cc of epinephrine-"

Numbly, Pete stood, blanket tangled around his ankles as he watched his sister die before his eyes. 

"Time of death-"

"So sorry, son."

Someone turned off the machines so that there was finally silence. Mav was aware of someone in his periphery. He didn't bother to look to see who it was. He already knew. His wingman would always be there. He heard voices address him but he couldn't make heads or tails of what the words meant. There were hands on his shoulder, guiding him away and while he wanted to twist away and go over to Carole, his motivation had quieted like the machines now were. 

A flurry of movement. His name cried out. A tiny body clutching his legs and sobbing. Fighting through the fog and coming back to himself, it seemed like the world got loud again. He knelt down and picked up Bradley, holding on tightly. 

"I've got you Baby Goose. I've got you. I promise."

This was a promise he knew he would easily keep. His other recent promise began to weigh heavily on him and he fought to push it back for now. He walked on legs that were beginning to feel disconnected again. How long that lasted, he couldn't say. All he knew was that when he came back to himself, he found himself and the other flyboys in an otherwise empty room devoid of everything but a few chairs. He was still holding Bradley who at some point had cried himself to sleep. 

"You back with us Mav?"

Maverick blinked and looked up. And up and up and-

"Woah, easy bud. Why don't you sit down?" Slider was bracing him and Wolfman was beside him. The latter had his arms out. 

"Why don't I hold him for a bit, Mav? You're barely standing as it is."

As much as he didn't want to let go, Maverick realized his arms were numb as well and the disconnected feeling had returned tenfold. He watched from outside himself as Bradly was gently lifted from his arms and Slider guided him to sit down. He looked rough. They all did but there was nothing for it now. Still in that strange out of body experience, he noted one of their number was missing. 

"W'r's Ice?"

"He's with Viper handling things with the hospital, don't worry Mav. How about you lean against me and get some sleep?"

Maverick returned to his body and shook his head. He had been asleep when Carole had breathed her last. He wasn't going to make that mistake again. He couldn't help but drift however as they waited for Tom to return. 

"What's wrong with him?"

"Pretty sure he's in shock." Slider said over his head. Rude. He was right there. "He was already run down by not eating or sleeping. He had barely gotten thirty minutes before Carole..."

Thirty minutes. He should have fought harder to stay awake. She had been asleep, but it was still an extra thirty minutes with her. He would never forgive himself. 

He blinked slowly. Blinked again. When his eyes opened next, Viper was looking down at him. He looked weary, like he'd aged years in a day. 

"Hey Pete. It's time for you to go home. The missus has the guest room set up for you and Bradley."

"Sir, what about his state? He seems shocky."

"Yes, that's what the doctor told me. But he's clearly not going to get any rest here. He's nearly unconscious but still fighting it. Linda and I can keep an eye on him for the next few days. Bradley also needs watching over and the kids can help. Kids are resilient like that."

Maverick had several questions but voiced none of them. When had a doctor been in? Where was Bradley? Where was Ice? Where was he, if he was being honest. The numb sensation had spread yet again and he felt cold. Sitting up suddenly, he missed the fact that he nearly clocked Ron in the chin. His sudden elevation made his head spin, and reeling, he slumped back into the RIO's grip. 

"Easy hazard. You're ok. We're gonna get you to Viper's truck and you're gonna get some rest."

No, he couldn't go anywhere. Carole needed him. Carole was-

He needed Ice. He needed to find B. 

A surge of adrenaline came from somewhere and he stood, wildly looking around for the missing people. The man who promised to have his back in all things and the boy he had promised to protect. 

Exclamations from all sides and he finally spotted the familiar blonde spiked hair step into the room. Somehow the other man seemed to know what he was thinking and he was quick to reassure Pete. 

"Everything is taken care of Maverick. Arrangements have been made for Carole per her wishes. Bradley is right there with Leo. All you need to do is let us take care of you."

Well, the Iceman was many things but he certainly wasn't a liar. If he said all was managed, then Mav believed him. Burrowing further into the jacket around him (it smelled like Slider-which didn't stink for once) he allowed himself to be led through the identical halls outside. The last thing he remembered before fading completely was being bundled up into a vehicle. 

Chapter Text

Three days after the funeral dawned on yet another sleepless night for Maverick. He figured the last night he had slept through had been the night of Carole's death (though he had been more comatose than sleeping due to the shock and extreme exhaustion he had fallen into).

He had woken up at the Metcalf house some time later not knowing where he was or even how he had arrived there. Once he had determined that he was safe, he allowed the grief to wash over him and he cried as quietly as he could in the bed, hiding his head under the comforter like a child. 

Thoroughly drained, he geared himself up for the rest of his life and went downstairs to rejoin society. When Linda saw him, she stopped what she was doing and hugged him tight. Pete melted into her embrace and just focused on breathing. 

"Where's Brad?"

"Mike's got him out back with the kids. He hasn't joined them yet but just being outside and watching is a step in the right direction." She stepped back and studied him. "How are you faring? You still look pale. Are you hungry?"

Maverick opened his mouth to decline, feeling if he tried to swallow anything he would choke. His stomach on the other hand, grumbled loudly enough to be heard in the otherwise empty room. 

Mrs Metcalf smiled sadly. "Let's try something easy to begin with." She led the way into the kitchen and began reheating a broth. Maverick leaned against the island and looked out the nearby window. The Metcalf children were running around the yard but just as Linda had said, a familiar towhead was sitting on the edge of the porch, Viper next to him. 

The older aviator was rubbing soothing circles on Bradley's back and talking to him. The small boy nodded at various intervals. At last, he leaned over and hugged Viper tight. Something in Mav's chest loosened at the display. Maybe it was the display of care for the young boy. Maybe it was the fact that Maverick himself saw Viper as a fatherly figure. Wistfulness filled him-this is what he could have had if the circumstances had aligned. However, Pete would never begrudge the boy anything; he was happy there were so many others looking out for him. 

A clink of a bowl set before him drew his attention back inside. Murmuring his thanks, he spooned up some of the broth and ate it. When nothing adverse happened, he did it again. Before he knew it, the bowl was empty and he was leaning hard on his elbows, eyes drooping, finally feeling warm and satiated. 

"Pete, do you think you can get yourself back up to bed or should I call Mike?"

"I'm alright." Mav yawned widely. "Sorry. But I should check on B."

"He's doing just fine, you worry about yourself right now, alright? Now go get some more rest."

He did as she asked and fell back into bed. However, tired as he was, his mind and subconscious were back up and running again so his sleep was nightmare riddled. The next two weeks passed in a similar manner but he didn't say anything; the Metcalfs had already gone above and beyond, no need to burden them more. 

Usually managing to doze for an hour or two at the most, he was once again barely holding onto reality. Dragging his gaze from the wall down to the sleeping bundle next to him, he realized that this was his life now. He was the only person Bradley had left in this world. 

The boy had clung to him and had fallen asleep crying. His sleep never lasted long either as the horrors of losing everyone grabbed his mind and further traumatized his childish mind. At least he had Maverick there with him to comfort him as best as his own stress allowed. While they had been at Viper's place, he had had the distraction of others. But they couldn't impose forever (despite Mrs Metcalf claiming otherwise) and so the two had returned to the Bradshaw house. Maverick himself had done his best to bottle up his distress and provide as safe and comforting a space as he could for the young boy. With every hour however, he felt his resolve crumble further. He honestly didn't know how much longer he could keep it up. 

No. He had to. He was the adult. He had to be strong for Bradley. If he wasn't so stuck in his own mind, he would have seen that he wasn't alone. The flyboys had stepped in where they could. Even Viper had been waiting for the moment he could assist. But exhaustion and stress had made Pete self isolate and miss the help that was right in front of him. 

A strange sound cut through the mental fog and it took him a few moments to place it. The phone was ringing in the kitchen. Why was someone calling so early?

A careful look at his watch told him several hours had passed without him noticing. It was nearly nine in the morning. Extracting himself from Brad's octopus grip, Pete weaved on unsteady feet to the other room to answer the phone. It was Mrs Metcalf calling to ask after his and Brad's well being and if it were still alright to swing by and take the boy out with her own children to 'help distract him for the day and to give you some time to yourself'?

Right. That was today. Blinking stupidly at the scrawled notice on the calendar, Maverick belatedly realized he hadn't answered. 

"That'd be fine, if it's not too much trouble. He actually got a few hours of sleep last night."

"What about you, Pete?" Linda asked softly. Mav's silence said enough. "Well, I'll be by in about thirty minutes. Is that enough time?" 

He assured her it would be, and said his goodbyes. Leaning his forehead against the wall, he sighed heavily. Only to jump out of his skin when arms circled around his legs. "Hey baby Goose. That was Mrs Metcalf. You remember the Metcalfs biweekly play dates, right? They wanna take you out to go play today. Is that something you still want to do?" He took a few settling breaths while Bradley considered his options. He was grateful when he felt the boy nod his head in assent. "Ok then, we need to get you fed and cleaned up for a day of fun!"

Pumping as much enthusiasm and cheer he could manage into his voice, he got the boy ready for the day. Right on time, Linda and her crew pulled up into the driveway. Mav and Bradley met her at the door, the latter having extracted several promises from his godfather that he would pick him up if the boy became too overwhelmed at any point.

"But don't worry about that B. Just focus on having fun with your friends, ok?"

A little reluctant to let him go, Bradley finally saw the other kids waving to him from the car and left to join them. 

Linda, who had stepped out, opened the door for him to enter, then walked over to Pete. Looking him over as only a mother could, she commented "You look exhausted. Try to get some sleep today, alright? I promise he's in good hands."

Maverick believed her but his mind wasn't ready to let go yet. Forcing a smile to his face, he returned the hug she offered. "Yes ma'am, I'll do my best." Waving in the driveway as the van drove off, he made his way back inside to try and take her advice. 

He lasted exactly eight minutes before his racing brain made him get up again. He might as well try to head onto base and be productive. There was always work to be done. Ignoring the pictures of various smiling Bradshaws and himself along the walls, he shrugged his jacket on and left. 

Chapter Text

Maybe driving had been a bad idea. Maverick had no clue how he had reached base from the bungalow, but the next thing he knew, he was showing his ID to the guard at the gate. In a similar fugue state he wandered through the base to the locker rooms and began to change into his khakis. He blinked back from wherever his mindless musing had taken him to take in his state of dress. Or rather misdress. 

His shirt buttons were one off, giving a skewed look. He still had his jeans and one boot on. Thankful that there was no one else currently in the room to see him, he forced himself to focus on properly dressing-though his fingers fumbled clumsily on the buttons. 

At long last he made it to his office-or rather, the one he and Ice had been sharing as Instructors for Top Gun. The piles of paperwork on his desk juxtaposed the neat and orderly stacks on Ice's. 

It was the perfect distraction.

Or at least it was in theory. An hour had passed by unnoticed and all he'd done was stare at the documents before him. Tears filled his eyes again. How was he supposed to do this? To carry on when yet another loved one had died? How would he manage to be everything Bradley needed him to be? Wanting to escape the rush of emotions, he stood and began pacing the small room. 

Behind him, the door opened. He stiffened, and with horror, realized his face was wet. He hadn't managed to stave off the tears after all. Ashamed, he scrubbed at his eyes and croaked. "Forget something?"

Tom stood in the doorway before stepping fully in and closing the door behind him. 

"I found what I was looking for."

Pete supposed he could be thankful that Ice didn't ask him why he was here. He understood that distraction was the best help for him right now. But it seemed he couldn't even manage that. Maybe he should leave. 

Turning he began to stuff papers back into files, not caring if they went together. That was a problem for future him when he could string more than one thought together. At least he had a future to expect. Unlike-

A sob broke through and he leaned on his arms on the desk, head down. He felt dizzy and he could hear his pulse in his ears. 

"Hey, come here. Let me help you." Ice said quietly, offering a hug.

Trembling, Maverick leaned into the waiting arms of his wingman and hugged him like his own life depended on it. He appreciated the steady support of Ice's arms around him and wished he were as strong as Tom so he could have transferred whatever energy he'd had left to Carole and now Bradley. Unfortunately he had none left to give as worn down as he was. He had been subsisting on fumes for days. It was a miracle he was still standing. 

Just as he thought that, his arms loosened their grip from Ice's waist and he felt his heavy lids close against his will. He was passing out but he wasn't scared. He was safe with Ice. He could trust his wingman, his brother. He could rest for just a minute.

"Mav? Maverick! Easy, I've got you." Ice felt his wingman physically fade and eased the smaller man's limp form to the floor. He had seen this coming but Maverick could be ridiculously tight lipped and stubborn when he wanted to be. Kneeling, he propped his brother's head up on one knee and patted at his cheek. 

"Ron, get in here!" he called. 

The giant RIO stepped in and assessed the situation immediately. "Damnit kid. You never do anything by halves, do you?" He closed the door of the office to ensure no wandering passerby stuck their noses where they didn't belong. The Navy already disliked Mitchell. He didn't need any rumors flying about that he was incapable of doing his job as well. 

Meanwhile Ice continued his ministrations to rouse Maverick. It hurt to see him this badly off. He had clearly lost weight and looked like he hadn't slept in the three months since he'd gotten the news about Carole's prognosis. Having taken on the roles of three people, it had only been a matter of time before he collapsed. Tom wished he had been more forceful and gotten his wingman to open up sooner. But even as he thought it, he knew how stubborn the other man was. Trying to force him to do anything only made him clam up more. Even so, none of the flyboys should have allowed his condition to have deteriorated this far. 

Down at Maverick's feet, Slider had also knelt and lifted the smaller man's legs up to aid in getting blood back to his heart and brain. The pilot/RIO pair watched for any sign of their brother's return to consciousness. 

One minute passed. Then two. Tom kept periodically trying to wake Pete with no success. 

"If five minutes passes we need to get emergency services here." He hated to publicize this, but Maverick's health was more important than his pride. 

At last their efforts were rewarded by Maverick's eyes opening and staring, unfocused, at the ceiling. A few slow blinks brought further awareness and he angled his head to look at Ice. 

"Why'm I on the fl'r?"

"You fainted. Do you remember feeling ill?"

A small light of recognition lit in Mav's otherwise hazy eyes. "Th'nks f'r catchin' me."

"Of course." Ice replied. "Though I wish you would have said something earlier so we wouldn't have to be having this conversation." To his mild alarm, the other man made no move to get up, letting him know that his condition was just as bad as he'd feared. He also hadn't noticed Ron which brought Tom's anxiety up another notch. 

"Can we get you to the couch or do you think you'll faint again?"

Ice could see the thought being processed in Mav's mind. Beside them, Ron also waited patiently, ready to help wherever.

"'m ok now." Pete finally decided, pushing himself up. Two sets of hands were still waiting as his knees buckled and lowered him to the couch where he flopped none too gracefully onto it. 

"I'm gonna get his stuff and pull the truck around." Slider declared as he felt the need to be productive. He knew with a certainty that his pilot wouldn't allow the pipsqueak to stay at work any longer today. Hell, he wouldn't allow Maverick to be here any longer today either and he was going to detour to Viper's office to ensure that plan. He had a sneaking suspicion the captain would be all too happy to give Maverick leave. 

Chapter Text

"Of course he can have leave." Viper said standing from behind his desk. "I already gave it to him. He shouldn't even be here right now.”

The two of them shared an exasperated look also marked with sorrow. Having experienced their own deaths in the family during various points in their lives, neither of them envied one of their own that pain. 

The CO continued. “In fact, Kerner was in here not five minutes ago asking the same thing. Did something happen?"

Ice kept his face carefully neutral, torn about what to say. Maverick desperately needed help but he didn’t want the news to go through official channels, thus hurting him further.

The sharp glint of the Commander’s eye told him that he’d read whatever he needed to despite the blank and quiet response. Ice hoped to have that power one day. "I'd make him come back to mine to stay again, but we've got some upper brass coming by end of the week and I need to make sure everything is ready here." Viper leaned back, right hand on jaw. "Don't suppose any of you boys are willing to do me a favor and keep an eye on him?"

"No favor sir. Ron and I are in the process of taking him to ours. But where is Bradley?"

Mike quirked a brow. "Last I heard, Linda took him for the day with our kids. Let me make a call but I bet she'd be more than willing to let him stay until Mitchell looks somewhat human again."

Ice nodded. It was a good setup. "I believe he has an appointment with a child therapist on Thursday." It was an observation shrouded as polite conversation. He of course knew it was accurate, as he had seen the appointment in Maverick's scrawl on a calendar on his desk. His CO looked up at him knowingly. 

"We can certainly make sure he gets there for it. You might want to convince his guardian to try the same." They shared another look, one that spoke of both exasperation and determination. Enough was enough. They had stepped back as long as they could. While he would never intentionally put Bradley in danger, the lack of self care was affecting him and would result in another accident occurring. Ice felt lucky that his collapse had happened here instead of driving or holding B.

"Sir." He nodded respectfully and turned to leave. 

"Kazansky," Viper called out. "Let me know if he needs anything?"

Ice touched two fingers to his brow in a casual salute and left to collect what Ron affectionately called their 'hazard to society'.

Of course he had disappeared. How the hell could he have dragged himself back up was anyone's guess. Trying to keep his frustration at bay, Ice took a deep breath through his nose and thought logically. His wingman wasn't of sound enough mind to actively try and leave. Maybe he had fallen into autopilot and had gone to the locker rooms. 

Upon entering the instructor lockers, he saw the lights were on but didn't hear anything.  A good sign but not proof that Maverick was here. Turning the corner, any remaining calm he had accrued rapidly evaporated as he found the wayward pilot-on the floor. 

"Pete!" What had they been thinking leaving him alone on the couch? Had their years together and all of Goose's instructions taught them nothing?

Dazed eyes stared uncomprehendingly at him while he checked for injuries. 

"Did you hit your head? Why are you in here?" Tom's voice rose when the smaller man didn't reply. To his relief, there were no bumps on his head. If anything, it looked like he had slid down the lockers and just hadn't found the strength to get back up. Maverick's eyes rolled back and Ice muttered "Oh no you don't." 

Raising his hand he gave Mav's cheeck a good smack. It didn't bring full awareness, but it at least got him a glare. Good. Some response was better than complete apathy and dead weight. Hauling the mostly limp man back up onto the bench, Ice was glad of his wingman's small stature. No he wasn't heavy, and Ice had made sure to be strong enough to carry any of his brothers, but this would be so much harder if his RIO was in this position. 

Speaking of-

Slider was out front probably wondering where the hell they were. Ice needed to wrap this up. Maverick hadn't managed to remove any part of his uniform and he was going to stay that way for the time being. Slinging his own duffel and Maverick's over one shoulder, he pulled the shorter man up. 

"Just a little further and then you can sleep." he promised as he poked his head out of the doorway. The sneaking around was unlike him and frankly ridiculous, but he also didn't wan't to encourage more half based rumors from a dimwit who thought they saw something they didn't. 

As predicted, his RIO was waiting outside. He looked about two seconds from coming back in but relaxed marginally when he saw them. 

Of course, the tension returned when he saw the actual state of them. 

"What happened?" he demanded as he came around front and opened the passenger door for Ice and Maverick. 

"He managed to get himself to the staff lockers before collapsing again." Tom replied tersely as he transferred Mav to Ron so he could toss their bags in the back. They made quick work of loading in and were soon on their way back to the Bradshaw house. 

Upon arrival, the pilot/RIO pair got their younger brother into bed, stripping him down to just undershirt and boxers, keeping his privacy intact while not making him sleep in the stiff khaki uniform. Maverick hadn't stirred since he'd been settled in the car which was worrying on its own. Now nestled in bed, his breathing deepened and slowed even further and they hoped it lasted. He clearly needed the rest. 

Next, the two men addressed the house itself. While not messy per se, it was clear that a few things had been neglected. Being mindful of the noise (though they doubted Mav would hear them with how deeply asleep he was) they tidied up the main living areas. Eventually they ran out of things to do and they just stood and stared at each other. The stark reminder that Carole was never going to walk back in with her equally sunshine hair or smile hit them again. She would never dance around her kitchen baking cookies or ever hug her son again. She would never remind Maverick to keep his chin up against the world (a legacy she had taken up the mantle from her husband and one the flyboys were determined to continue.)

Carole Bradshaw would be missed. 

Both Tom and Ron had grieved privately over the loss of another member of this little family that had welcomed them in along with the rest of their class, but now it was their turn to help the other two members to do so as well. Bradley had been to child therapy a few times and he was starting to come back out of his shell. Maverick however, had buckled down and bottled everything up. Not for the first time, nor even for the second, they highly suspected. 

They would have to walk a thin line to get their brother the help he so desperately needed without him pushing them away in the process. 

Chapter Text

Maverick couldn't remember what he'd been dreaming about but he woke with his heart racing and tears on his cheeks. With his track record recently, he wasn't surprised. What was surprising, was that he was not in the last place he remembered being. Feeling a bit surreal, he simply lay there and watched the passage of time by the sun travelling through the window across the opposite wall until it became dim then disappeared. Shifting so he could see the clock on the stand beside him, he stared at it's moving hands, not taking in the actual time. Why was everything so slow?

Eventually the quiet murmur of voices permeated through his sluggish thoughts and began to form the picture of who was out there. The higher pitched voice of Bradley, the deeper ones of Ice, Slider, and...who was the third?

The unknown factor was just enough motivation to allow him to sit up and drag a nearby pair of sweats closer. Pulling them on was another challenge and one that nearly sapped all his energy. If he had been firing on all cylinders this strange detachment would frighten him, but instead he watched it with apathy. Finally moving from his room and down the hall, the voices became clearer to understand and Mav identified the last man as Viper. He must have brought Brad home after his play date with the Metcalf kids. The three aviators were leaning and sitting in various surfaces in the kitchen while all humoring Bradley as the child excitedly talked about his day. They interjected a few times with questions and all nodded in the appropriate places.

Mav wasn't sure how long he stood there or if he'd made a noise but their former instructor turned towards him and waved him in. Sharp eyes took him in but Mav was still too out of it to read his expression. 

Bradley's however, was clear as day, no matter what state Maverick was in. The young boy's whole face lit up. 

"Uncle Mav! Wanna see what I drew?"

Arms came up beside him and guided him into a recently vacated chair. Ice. Gratefully, Mav accepted the assistance as well as the water Slider set down on the table beside him. Ignoring the three assessing looks his way, he instead took small sips of the water and instead focused on Bradley's chatter. Eventually he tired out and was ushered to bed. To bed? Had Maverick really slept the rest of the day away? Part of him was frustrated he'd wasted time, the other was amazed he'd been able to sleep that long. 

Standing on unsteady legs, he brought his half empty glass to the sink. Staring blankly at the counter, it finally registered that the counter was devoid of dirty dishes. Come to think of it, the house had a faint lemon scent to it. Someone had taken the time to clean up yet another of his messes. 

He sighed, leaning heavily on his arms against the sink. Why was he so tired?

"Give yourself a break, Pete. You've been running on fumes for weeks."

He huffed a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob. Fumes were an understatement. Looking over, he saw Viper settle with his back against the counter beside him. 

"You look like hell."

Mav nodded in agreement. If he looked as bad as he felt, then it was a miracle he was standing. "I can't sleep. Not since she-" his throat closed from emotion. "I should have fought harder so she wasn't alone in those last moments."

Viper shook his head. "As much as we think ourselves the best of the best, we are still just human, Pete. You were hours from being admitted yourself. Honestly, I'm not far away from thinking that option is still on the table. Remember how you were after Goose's accident."

Maverick tensed up, unwilling to admit to himself that it had gotten that bad. He had to think about more than himself. He had the gosling to look out for. But maybe...he wasn't alone now? Maybe the actions of his wingmen and mentor told him that he didn't have to do this all on  his own.

He turned and faced Ice and Slider who had remained quiet during their exchange. Maverick would have maintained eye contact in a challenge but he was too tired. Instead, he stood there, studying a tile on the floor and awaited their judgement. He should have known by now that their petty judgments had long faded away. On top of that, Viper wouldn't have stood for any of that nonsense anymore. 

Instead, from where he now sat at the table, Slider offered "I replaced your sheets. You might wanna think about showering. You stink."

That was enough to make him look up and he scoffed at Slider. 

"You'd know, wouldn't you."

Ice rolled his eyes from where he leaned against the door frame. However, his tone was soft. 
"We're gonna be here. Every step of the way. The other guys too. They just didn't want to overwhelm you until they knew it was clear to stop by."

The sincerity coupled with the callback jab and just the fact that these men were here made something in his chest loosen and he breathed deeply for what felt like the first time in months. In fact, it wasn't just the metaphorical thing in his chest loosening, it was his physical body as well. He blinked and he found himself being guided back to his room. 

"-fell asleep standing."

"Should we take him to medical?"

"We'll gauge that tomorrow. He needs sleep more."

He blinked again and he was being covered up by blankets. The sound of footsteps faded away and he was left alone. 

But he wasn't alone, was he? His wingmen, his brothers proved that. As his senses faded he thought that this must finally be a step in the right direction. This wouldn't be fixed right away, but they were taking the right steps to get there. He wished there was a manual for this kind of thing but they were fly boys. They were used to flying by the seat of their pants. 

In the meantime, there was time to grieve and space to both carry on the memories of his family and to eventually move on. The weight of exhaustion dragged him down completely and for the first time in far too long, he slept with no guilt.