Work Text:
Hangman climbs from his jet the second he lands back on the carrier, anxious for Maverick and Rooster to ground the F-14 as soon as possible. Only Maverick could steal a damn dinosaur, get airborne without a single intact runway in sight, and outmaneuver two fifth-gen fighters. The idea sounds ridiculous on principle.
But they did it, and Jake picked up the slack on the third bandit. They're alive. Those crazy bastards are alive.
The crashing F-14 screeches and wails against the deck before skidding to a stop with the help of the net. Even with it, they nearly overran the runway. Hangman darts forward with the rest of the Daggers, ready to joyfully intercept their missing members. When he gets close, Maverick slides over the side of the jet.
A swatch of blood follows, bold and slick against the gray housing of the F-14.
Rooster is the first to respond, probably the first to see him go down. "Mav!"
Jake can't see through the crowd, but he, Phoenix, and Bob push their way through.
The deck crew calls for the medics while Rooster yells for their captain, crouching in front of Mav where he's braced on his hands and knees. The old man draws their foreheads together to comfort him. Both pant hard from a mixture of adrenaline and fear.
"Mav, I-" Rooster gasps out. "I just got you back. Don't go."
Maverick has neither the time nor the information to be making such promises, but he nods, clutching to the younger aviator who was challenging his every word mere days ago. "I won't. I'm here, kid. I'm here."
The medics come through in a flurry of bodies. "Lieutenant, you need to let go of him."
"No!"
"Lieutenant, we have to take him. You need to let go."
Rooster clings tighter and Jake steps forward, taking a cue from the medic to grab him as soon as they get his hands loose. Jake pulls him by the waist, dragging him away. Rooster struggles furiously, having eyes only for Maverick.
Distantly, Jake hears the old man losing his composure. "No. Don't- Don't take him from me. Bradley! Don't! Don't take him-"
"Mav!"
Maverick shouts back to Rooster just as frantically.
It's nearly too much to take, and that moment's hesitation is all it takes for Rooster to break free. Bob intercepts him after he shoves over a medic, helping Jake keep him back. Even that almost doesn't cut it. If anything, Rooster fights harder, and they'll lose him soon if they can't keep hands on him.
"Get off me! Mav!"
Bob tries to calm him. "Rooster, the medics have to do their jobs."
From the sound of it, Maverick causes almost as much trouble with said medics. "Captain, you need to calm down and lay on the gurney."
"I can't! Bradley, he's-" Jake sees Maverick falter and clutch his ribs. "I hear him. He- I need-"
The rest of the detachment was waiting for them, Jake recalls. After Rooster nearly slips his hold again, he glances around for Coyote. He's the only guy physically bulky enough to keep a handle on Bradshaw. "Coyote! Get over here and help!"
Coyote jerks into motion, joining them from where he and the remainder of the squadron had been watching helplessly. He slides his arms around Rooster's, pinning them to his sides and pulling him down to the ground where he'll have more control. Rooster squirms, still calling for Maverick. It doesn't take long for his struggles to weaken and he tips his head back, staring up at the sky with heaving, squeaking breaths and tears in his eyes. He sobs. Each hiccup of air goes toward the waning energy he uses to plead for Maverick.
Jake glances at Phoenix. If anyone would know what the hell got into Rooster, it would be her. The problem is that she looks just as horrified and confused as the rest of them.
The medics start hauling Maverick away.
Jake hears the older aviator still begging them to let him go back, and just when it seems like he's going to relent to their care, he gives one last anguished, gut-wrenching cry that echoes across the deck. "Bradley!"
One second, Rooster is secure on the ground, and the next, Coyote lays on his back, struggling for the barest hint of air. Jake and Bob react on reflex alone, catching Bradshaw before he can bolt after Mav. They pin his shoulders to the deck this time, crossing his arms over his chest and holding him there. Jake leans to make space for the medic who must've split off from the pack surrounding Maverick. Within seconds of being stuck with a needle, Bradshaw turns sluggish.
Jake looks Rooster in the eye when the older aviator grabs his flight suit, finding panicked light in his gaze. "It's gonna be fine, Rooster."
"Mav-"
"He's gonna be all right. Just relax."
"No," Bradshaw breathes, a sob fumbling from his lips. "Mav."
Bob gently catches his head when he loses consciousness. The medic waves over a couple others now that the situation has stabilized and they get Bradshaw onto a backboard. Jake swallows hard and helps Coyote to his feet as they cart him off. The other aviator rubs his midsection and coughs, shaking out one of his hands with a wince.
"You okay, man?" Jake asks. The words sound frightfully loud in the sudden silence.
Coyote watches the group disappear into the reaches of the ship.
Phoenix is the one to move them. "Come on. The crew needs to start clearing off the wreckage and we shouldn't stick around to be in the way. Let's head back to the ready room."
Once they're all safely below deck, those who weren't involved in the mission split off—all but Coyote, who stays beside Jake the whole way to the ready room. Payback and Fanboy walk ahead of them, traces of blood on their sleeves. If it was theirs, they'd have gone to medical. Jake glances over his shoulder at Phoenix and Bob, finding both of them looking somewhat unnerved but calm. They shook off a plane crash. They'll shake this, too.
They all settle into the ready room. Pervasive silence sits with them, creeping around their shoulders and choking their words like ash from a volcano. If someone doesn't talk, they'll be buried in it.
Jake watches Coyote rub at his middle for a few minutes. "Coyote?"
"I don't even know what happened," Coyote says finally, meeting Jake's eye. "I had him. I thought he was calming down. Then Maverick-...." He trails off and shakes his head. "I don't know. Rooster wriggled, I guess? Whatever he did, he nailed me with his elbow and wrenched my hand around. I don't know how he got an angle on me. He shouldn't have been able to do that."
"Unless someone taught him."
Coyote frowns. "Who?"
Jake considers, then huffs a breath. "The same person who would need to know how to get away from people bigger than he is because that's literally everyone he knows."
Phoenix frowns, shifting to sit on top of her desk. "You really think Maverick taught him that?"
"After today, and after what we just saw? What we heard?" Jake pushes down a shiver of unease when he remembers how distressed Rooster was when he grabbed him. "I think the chances are more than fair."
"He definitely wasn't calling for Maverick the way you call for a superior," Bob murmurs, wringing his hands nervously in a way he didn't even do before the mission.
"Hell, no," Jake agrees. "That's.... That was.... I don't even know."
"Like a parent calling for their kid."
The four of them glance over at Fanboy.
"Maverick, I mean. I know you guys were busy trying to wrangle Rooster, but Payback and I were the ones helping the medical team with Maverick."
That explains the blood on them.
"That yell? That's the most terrified I've ever heard anyone, and it wasn't even for himself. He was disoriented and didn't know what was happening, only that everyone around him was trying to take Rooster away." Fanboy glances at Payback, and it's only then Jake realizes that Fanboy is shaking.
They were all scared, not just Maverick and Rooster.
Jake wholeheartedly agrees with Mickey's assessment if only based on what he saw. "When Bradshaw heard Mav that last time, he went fucking ballistic."
"Wouldn't you?"
"For my old man?" Jake scoffs. "I'd ask them to take it a step further and throw him overboard."
Phoenix shoots him a glare. Jake shrugs. It may not be the proper time to be making light of things, but what else do they have to do? He's not really the type to sit around and wallow.
"Really makes you wonder what happened," Payback says, keeping his voice low as though afraid someone will overhear.
Jake clicks his tongue. He meddled in Maverick and Rooster's personal lives once already and almost got decked for it. After today, Jake isn't sure three people would've been enough to stop Rooster if he really wanted to fight. Not that Jake would bring up the subject again. Mav and Rooster's history obviously ran deeper than a training accident thirty years ago. If that was all that happened between them, Rooster would've followed orders and returned to the carrier. He wouldn't have risked his life to save a man he blamed for his father's death.
He sure as hell wouldn't have flipped his shit up on the deck.
Curiosity burns at Jake, though he knows better than to dig this time. It's in his nature to evaluate, to look for weakness, and to be ready to utilize any information he finds to his greatest advantage. That's what makes him so good at being an asshole.
Payback wraps an arm over Fanboy's shoulders, supporting him while he comes down off his adrenaline high.
The door to the ready room opens and Warlock beckons Phoenix to debrief the brass, seeing as she's the de facto leader since Maverick and Rooster are unconscious. Bob shifts in his seat. Fanboy and Payback sit in silence yet again. Coyote stays quiet, too, gently rubbing the palm of his hand. The fact that his hand is only sore instead of broken speaks to at least a small amount of awareness from Rooster. That should comfort Jake.
It doesn't.
He doesn't have anything to say to the rest of them right now—no smart remarks, no details to give them to make what they're feeling easier to bear, nothing. It forces him to stew in his own anxiety without an outlet. Jake's toothpicks are still in his locker. Ten minutes tick by, then twenty, and then thirty.
Payback starts tapping his foot.
Fanboy chews his nails.
Coyote breathes.
Bob fidgets.
After an entire hour, Jake can't fucking take it anymore. He'd rather lurk around the medics and have half a chance of knowing something than wait for the other shoe to drop. "If we're just gonna sit here, then I'm going down to the infirmary to do it."
With that, he skulks off to the med bay. If the others get up to follow, he moves a lot faster than they do. Jake can't just wait and be idle. He can't let things lie. Even if it means watching over Bradshaw for the next eight hours, at least then he'll be doing something.
He slinks inside the infirmary, and just as expected, Rooster lays quietly in the farthest bed. Maverick sleeps in the one next to him, likely placed there in a strategic attempt to avoid another situation like the one on the deck. Unlike Rooster, Mav's shirt is gone, likely cut away from his body in whatever surgery he had to go through. Jake stands at the foot of the bed, observing all the harness bruising, minor cuts, and the wide swatch of bandage taped to his right side. Mav breathes on his own, maybe a little shallow, but that's to be expected. Jake's gaze trails up to the old man's face.
His eyes are open, and he's watching Rooster sleep.
Jake would ask how he's awake, but Maverick is a stubborn son of a bitch. That's really all the answer he needs. He chews his lip before reaching a hand out to wiggle Mav's foot. "Hey, Pops."
Mav turns his head and smiles. "Hey, kid. How're you doing?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
"Nah. You can see how I'm doing." Mav gestures for Jake to come closer, the lethargic grin on his face widening when his wordless order is followed. "You, on the other hand, probably have a lot going on upstairs."
Jake smirks. "What makes you say that?"
"You're here. And don't tell me the medics let you in."
The mirth fades from Jake's expression and he grits his teeth. "I just needed something to do, is all. Everyone else was just sitting. I was going stir crazy."
Mav nods understandingly and opens his hand to Hangman. Jake hesitates before slipping his fingers into Maverick's. It grounds him. Mav's heartbeat thuds in his wrist and fingers, solid and strong as ever. His heartrate feels slower than average, but when one is tiny, one doesn't exactly need to pump as much blood. His warmth seeps into Jake's skin. Jake closes his eyes and takes comfort in the shift of his arm from each breath he takes.
"We made it, kid."
Jake nods. That statement warms him on the inside more than he expected it to. As much as Maverick cares about them, Jake thinks he might actually care just as much in return. It scares him, and he figures Maverick can tell. Somehow. The old man rubs his thumb over Hangman's knuckles soothingly.
"When you and Rooster went down, I-" Jake breaks off and clenches his jaw.
"We're here, Jake. Thanks to you."
Jake lifts his head.
"I'm proud of you," Mav adds, gently squeezing the younger aviator's fingers. "You didn't leave your wingman."
Emotion swells in Jake's chest and he falls silent, choked by the intensity of the mixture of gratitude, embarrassment, and genuine surprise swirling within him. He didn't realize before Mav chose Rooster as his wingman, didn't understand until then, how much Mav wanted to keep them safe—wanted to see them all again even knowing he might have to sacrifice himself for any one of them.
"Thanks, Pops."
"You're welcome, kiddo," Mav says softly. He smiles when Jake shoots him a funny look for the term of endearment. "Why don't you get some sleep? You look dead on your feet, and it looks like I've got a few more unauthorized guests to talk to."
Jake glances toward the door where the remainder of the Dagger squadron lurks. Phoenix, probably fresh from her debrief, looks exhausted and anxious.
Mav gives Jake's hand one last squeeze before opening his arm on his good side to her. "Come 'ere, sweetheart."
Phoenix, in very uncharacteristic fashion, strides forward and leans down into the hug with a tearful sigh. Jake hears her apologizing for leaving Mav and Rooster as he walks over to the nearest infirmary bed. Mav talks with her for a few minutes, just like he did Jake, and then orders her to get some sleep. She settles in the bed beside Hangman and curls up into a ball, out in seconds from sheer exhaustion.
Mav chats with Fanboy next, eyes catching on the blood on his and Payback's sleeves. "Are you okay?"
"It's yours, sir."
He makes a rather unsurprised face and moves on to reassuring the both of them. Bob sniffles when it's his turn, and Maverick offers him the opportunity to hug him when asked. Jake might take one of those later.
No one would know if they were all asleep.
Coyote appears at last, eyes falling on Jake and then sliding over to Maverick, who waves. They don't say much to one another when Coyote approaches. Maverick makes an idle motion Jake doesn't understand, but Coyote clearly gets the message. He nods, gripping Mav's shoulder before trailing over to Jake.
"Shove over. There aren't any more beds."
Jake scoots to one side and Coyote hops up beside him to sit. The infirmary falls quiet again. Maverick casts his gaze over to Jake for a minute, seemingly gauging something between them before allowing his head to fall to the side so he can keep an eye on Rooster again. For once, Jake is fine not to be the center of attention. In fact, so content is he that he passes out against Coyote's shoulder, completely oblivious to Coyote mimicking him soon after.
He's more than a little surprised to find Rooster tucked into Maverick's bed when he rouses again at two in the morning. The old man cradles him, one hand buried protectively in his hair and the other wrapped around his shoulders. Bradshaw rests on the left side of his chest, well away from the bandages and the majority of the bruising on the opposite side.
If not for the subtle way Mav rocks Rooster back and forth, Jake would think the younger aviator was asleep.
Fanboy's opinion on their interaction earlier rings true now more than ever. Even cuddled up against Coyote, who resembles a clingy octopus more than an aviator at the moment, Jake can't help but think Rooster's spot looks comfy. Whatever shit they had going on between them, they're safe and together now. It's the only thing that really matters.
"I have you, baby goose," Mav whispers. "I'm here."
"I love you, dad."
Mav presses a kiss into Bradshaw's hair and holds him a little tighter. "Love you, too, kiddo."
Jake pretends he doesn't hear a word of it, and if he just so happens to drift off again with a smile dusting his features, that's really no one's business but his own.