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Bradley goes off the rails a bit at sixteen. Maverick guesses it’s normal, God help anyone who interacted with him as a teenager, but Bradley really takes the biscuit with hormonal teenager. His mom being ill exacerbates the situation, so does the lack of Goose, but still, he frequently amazes Maverick with just how unhinged he can get.
Fortunately for Bradley, the school asks him who to call because his mom’s ill. If Carole had been down here, Bradley would have been in for it for real. Maverick’s always been a massive soft touch compared to her. He picks up the phone during a break in testing in the afternoon,
“Captain Mitchell speaking,” he says, inspecting apples in the canteen, trying to pick one to eat.
“Err, hi sir, this is Miss McDowell from Coronado High School, I’m calling about your son, Bradley Bradshaw,” Maverick doesn’t bother correcting her. He really doesn’t want to know what she’s going to say next.
“I need to come down to the school, don’t I?” He sighs, already striding out of the canteen, waving at Hondo, and then pointing at his phone. Hondo gives him a thumbs up, quickly understanding.
“Well, yes sir, the principal would like to see you, too,” she says, the apology is tangible in her voice, “if you’re busy, sir, we can call someone else?”
“No, it’s no problem, I’ll be twenty minutes,” he says, and she gives him a confirmation, then hangs up.
He drives, knowing that Bradley’s coming home with him, and makes it across town in fifteen minutes. He ponders what Bradley’s done this time. Usually it’s fighting, sometimes it’s destruction of school property. They’d had some kind of emotional breakdown once that resulted in six mandated sessions with a school counsellor that Bradley had thrown a complete fit over. Maverick seriously doubts it did anything other than make Bradley believe he was better off bottling things up. He can’t really blame him if he’s honest.
He strolls into the reception area of the school, taking off his sunglasses, and walks up to the front desk. There’s a sign that says Ms Amy McDowell on the surface. He grins at her when she meets his eyes. She’s pretty, all tight curls swept back into a ponytail and dark skin.
“Captain Mitchell?” She asks. He nods,
“Please, call me Maverick,” She’s unperturbed by this, used to the hundreds of military offspring that come through this school every year.
“Maverick, just this way,” She comes around the side of the desk and leads him to the principal’s office. She stops him with a hand on his shoulder and gives him a grim expression, “Bradley’s a good kid, we can all see that, just make sure you set him straight,”
And yes, it’s probably not her place to point out how wayward Bradley is but he appreciates that she sees that Bradley really does have a good heart and a kind soul. He smiles gently,
“Thank you, Miss McDowell,” she lets him go and knocks on the door and it swings open momentarily, letting Maverick step through.
Bradley is resting an ice pack on his jaw, a cut across his left temple, and bloody knuckles. Fighting it is then.
“Sir,” Maverick greets the principal. He leans over his desk, and they shake hands, Maverick dropping into the seat next to Bradley. The kid is already taller than him at a heady 5’11 and it shows when they sit next to each other.
“Thank you for getting here so promptly, Captain,” The principal says,
“Really, it’s no problem. Would you explain why we’re here today?” He rests his hands on his lap, foot on his opposite knee. Bradley grimaces beneath the ice pack.
“Bradly was involved in a fight with another boy in his grade, resulting in the other young man losing consciousness for a few moments. He has gone home with a suspected concussion. While I do believe the blame for the fight can be spread equally between the two boys, the same cannot be said for their injuries.” He fixes Bradley with a severe look. Bradley does not squirm; he does not slump.
Maverick wishes to God he hadn’t taught Bradley the overhand right punch.
“I see,” Maverick says,
“We will be putting Bradley in isolation for the next five days,” Bradley does shuffle at that.
“And the other boy?” Maverick asks,
“When he comes back from his concussion he will get the same punishment,”
“That sounds fair,” He looks at Bradley who purposefully stares straight ahead, unseeing, “is it okay if I take Bradley home now, he’s had quite the day,” The principal looks surprised for a moment then recovers,
“Of course, sir, hopefully the next time we see each other will be under different circumstances,” Maverick gives him a half-hearted smile and they take their leave.
The drive back to Maverick’s house is silent, even though he knows Bradley is desperate to defend himself.
Bradley drops his stuff on the couch and then tries to sulk off towards his designated bedroom. He fails, of course.
“Bradley do not even think about doing that,” Maverick calls out from the kitchen. Bradley groans loudly and heads back towards the kitchen where a sandwich is pushed across the table at him. “While you eat, I’m going to talk.”
Bradley takes an aggressive bite out of his sandwich.
“You cannot, under any circumstances, knock someone out unless you are in grave danger. I did not teach you that for you to use it on boys at school. I understand they made you angry, trust me I get that, but it’s not okay to do that to another person.”
Bradley opens his mouth as if to talk and Maverick stops him by raising a hand.
“You can tell me why you did it in a minute, but I need you to understand that it was a poor decision and one I am not proud of you for making, son,”
Bradley swallows the last morsel of his sandwich.
“I-,” He stops himself, glances down at his empty plate, takes a deep breath, “I know, Mav, I shouldn’t have done it,” Maverick nods, “they found out about dad, I don’t know how, and they were saying all this stuff about how it was your fault, they clearly wanted to get to me, how you weren’t even that good of a pilot,”
“Were they other base brats?” Maverick interrupts and Bradley nods.
“Yeah, but I think they were marine kids, not navy ones,” he sighs, “I threw the first punch, but it happened so quickly, next thing I knew their leader was flat out on the floor.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I just blacked out, babs, I don’t know what happened. How can I not know what happened?” He looks up at Maverick with a twisted expression on his face.
Maverick moves around his side of the table in an instant, pulling him up into his chest. He wraps his arms around him and squeezes tight.
“When we get really angry sometimes, or when we have a lot of adrenalin, our body can’t keep up with us,” Bradley’s hands rest on his back, “It doesn’t mean you’re dangerous, okay? I can hear your thoughts from here.” Bradley huffs a laugh.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him that badly,” he says quietly,
“I know, kid, I know,” He leans back to look Bradley in the eyes, “You’re stronger than you realise now, you need to get a better handle on your emotions, though,”
Bradley flushes red. He’s always been prone to that, always had a certain ability to get out of things as a child just by looking incredibly guilty.
“I know it isn’t easy, I’ve spent years practicing and I don’t manage it every time-,”
“Like when you called Ice a cunt in front of his entire Top Gun class?”
“Yes, especially then,” Mav sighs and Bradley giggles. “Look, being able to keep a cool head is extremely important if you want to be a pilot. If you have to, take yourself out of the situation. Take some deep breaths.” Bradley nods, “There’s no shame in walking away.”
“I understand, Mav,” he gives him a sharp squeeze, “Thank you for coming to get me,”
“Of course, son.”
The two of them stay like that, holding onto each other in the kitchen, for a bit longer. Eventually, they part and spend the rest of the evening watching shit TV and talking about football. Mav sends a text to Carole’s carer letting her know Bradley’s with him, and he receives a thumbs up back. There’s no use worrying Carole with Bradley’s fight, not when she’s awake less hours than she’s asleep and she’s sicker than she’s ever been. Maverick can manage this moment.