Chapter Text
I'd like to move into your chest
Carry myself behind your ribs
Become one with everything that's yours
Forget what it's like being alive
- “Silhouette” by Adna
Maverick had never been so scared in his life.
He’d been in more air battles than he could count. Survived foster care. Ejected from burning aircraft. He’d lost Goose. Then Carole. And now…
His husband’s breathing had gotten so much more labored over the last week or so. He seemed so frail - Ice, who was larger than life, who commanded everyone’s attention in a room simply by entering it. Ice, who made Maverick weak in the knees with just a smile, or a brush of his fingertips, or with that good morning kiss he made sure to give Maverick whether Mav was awake or not, and if Mav was on assignment somewhere he would still get giddy when he had a call or an email from him.
Now those lips were covered by an oxygen mask, those hands that Maverick knew so well were now still, one of them bruised from the IV. His eyes, those steely blue eyes that normally sparkled when Ice looked at him, now closed in pain and exhaustion.
Maverick was seated on the bed, holding the hand that didn’t have an IV, stroking the back of Ice’s hand with his thumb, the other hand cupping Ice’s cheek, his eyes glancing at the monitors every minute or so out of habit and anxiety, tears in his eyes.
“Ice…talk to me…come on…”
Ice didn’t respond except to squeeze his eyes a little, those eyes still closed, and pressed his face further into Maverick’s palm.
The tears fell from Maverick’s eyes then, tortured by the sight of his love in too much pain to even open his eyes.
“Come on, baby, look at me…please…” his voice broke, and that was enough for Ice to crack his eyes open and finally look at his husband, squeezing Mav’s hand.
“Pete…” he whispered, his voice barely audible behind the mask.
“Tom, come on, wake up…”
“Trying…”
Maverick sighed heavily, stroking Ice’s cheek with his thumb.
“Come on, I know it hurts but I just…” more tears fell. Was he being selfish? “I just..Ice…”
His husband squeezed his hand again. “I…love you…Pete…”
Maverick knew how much effort it had taken Tom to push those words out as loudly as he had. The tears now fell in earnest as sobs welled up in Maverick’s throat.
“Oh, Ice…I love you too, so much…please don’t go…”
Maverick moved his hand from Ice’s cheek to cup the back of Ice’s head as he pressed his face against his husband’s, fingers in his hair, weeping in earnest, his tears falling down his face and dripping down Ice’s neck.
Ice could only continue to squeeze Maverick’s hand in response, his heart aching at the sound of his husband’s weeping, the rest of him aching from the cancer ravaging his body.
“Mav…” he rasped. He felt Maverick’s head twitch in response to his voice. “Call…Bradley…”
Maverick drew back then, looking into his husband’s eyes, which were now open fully, but shining with tears.
“What?” He’d heard what Ice had said, he just needed it repeated.
“Maverick. Call. Bradley.” Ice heaved the words out as loudly as he could, and Maverick blinked rapidly. Bradley hadn’t answered any of his other calls or texts telling him the cancer had come back, that it was much more aggressive this time, that there was nothing more the doctors could do. Maverick knew Bradley was still angry with him, but now Maverick was just as angry with Bradley for his lack of response.
Be pissed off at Dad because Dad pulled his papers? Fine.
Not answer calls, texts, and emails about Pops’ cancer coming back, this time so sudden and so harsh that Ice could barely speak, or move, let alone text or call anyone himself? Unacceptable.
Ice had been asking for Bradley, and Maverick had even texted Bradley from Ice’s phone. He’d been on deployment the first time the cancer had reappeared, so that was completely different. But this time he was stateside, and Maverick had even asked Ice to call Bradley’s CO. At the time, Ice had refused. He wanted Bradley to call and come of his own accord. But maybe now…
Ice squeezed and released Mav’s hand three times, getting his attention. Maverick must have stared off into space; he blinked and looked his husband in the eyes, something he regretted ever taking for granted. Ice’s eyes were desperate and pleading, and until that moment Maverick hadn’t thought his heart could break any further. That look in Ice’s eyes made him want to go to war, made him want to attack anyone who had ever hurt his husband, made him want to envelop Ice in his wings and protect him from the world forever.
Thirty-three years. He’d known Ice for thirty-three years, had been committed to him for thirty-two. A lifetime for some.
For Maverick it wasn’t nearly long enough.
They were still deeply in love after all this time, still fully committed to one another, still enamored. They still went at it like they did when they were first together, the same vigor and enthusiasm as always, up until five or so weeks ago, when Ice could no longer hide his exhaustion from his husband, and the diagnosis had hit them like a hammer, and even then…
Maverick shuddered as he remembered when, two nights ago, he had heard Ice stagger out of bed in the middle of the night, and Mav had assumed he was just going to the bathroom, until he’d heard the dreadful sound of a skull hitting tile, heard Ice’s yelp as he fell and then cry out from the pain. Maverick knew it was serious when Ice didn’t try to stop Maverick from calling an ambulance, and didn’t put on airs that he was “fine” when the paramedics had arrived.
Then it was long, tortuous hours of bloodwork, tests, and scans, seeing several doctors until Ice’s oncologist arrived at the hospital and read the scans himself, as Maverick tried to not go crazy with all of this waiting…and they wouldn’t even let him in to see his husband, which was torture all on its own.
*****
Dr. Fowler had found Maverick frantically pacing in the waiting room closest to ICU.
“Captain Mitchell?”
Maverick spun and faced the direction the voice had come from, his jaw tense and his eyes red, as he then went to shake the doctor’s hand.
“Dr. Fowler…as always you can just call me Maverick. Did…Um…what do the scans show? Is…is it…”
Dr. Fowler’s shoulders sagged as he guided Maverick to a chair and put his hand on the pilot’s shoulder.
“Maverick, I’m sorry but my initial prognosis appears to have been too optimistic.”
Maverick blinked rapidly, his chest getting heavier and hotter by the second.
“What…?” He said quietly, not able to make a sound much louder than a whisper.
“Maverick…I know I had initially said a few weeks ago that Tom probably had four to six months left, but…”
Maverick felt his heart stop, not sure if he could bear to hear the doctor’s next words.
“But…?”
“But…I’m so sorry, Maverick. The cancer has spread to his brain. He has days left now, a week at the most.”
“Days?” Maverick whispered, his chest now heavy, hot, AND aching, his stomach twisted in a knot.
“Are you sure?” He asked weakly, not bothering to wipe off the tears that had started pouring from his eyes; he was barely aware that he was crying at all.
“We both know that Tom is a fighter, so he may surprise us, but Maverick, the MRI, CT, and bloodwork all show an extremely aggressive tumor. It’s inoperable, and he isn’t strong enough to survive a surgery right now anyway. Only thing we can do is keep him comfortable. He also has a cracked rib and a mild concussion from that fall.”
Maverick felt the sobs come heaving out of his chest as he buried his head in his hands, and Dr. Fowler put his arm around Mav’s shoulders as the other man cried tears of despair and loss.
It was all part of the job, but giving families bad news like this never got easier for Dr. Fowler.
“Four months was bad enough,” Maverick said thickly. “Now it’s days? DAYS? Oh, Ice…”
Dr. Fowler wasn’t sure if Maverick was talking to him or not, but he kept the arm held secure around Mav’s shoulders.
He heard the captain sniffle after a few minutes before asking:
“Can I PLEASE see him now? I think it’s been over twelve hours since we’ve gotten here, and no one will even let me SEE him…”
Dr. Fowler sighed.
“I know it’s been hard, Maverick. But he was in and out of testing all day, we had to give him painkillers, then sedate him for the MRI. I think he’s still asleep now, but I’ll tell the nurses to let you in and to not chase you away when visiting hours are over.”
In spite of everything that was going on, Maverick breathed a sigh of relief. If Death was now indeed knocking at Ice’s door, at least he wouldn’t face him alone. Plus, Maverick needed his husband’s presence as much as Ice needed his.
“Thank you, Doctor. I…appreciate that. So much.”
Then the doctor had let Maverick into the room, checking the monitors as Maverick immediately sat on the bed and gripped Ice’s left hand. Dr. Fowler left without saying a word, leaving Maverick to his privacy and grief.
Ice had slept for many more hours before finally opening his eyes…
*****
Maverick sighed and wiped the tears off his face, his heart shattering yet again at the sight of tears falling from Ice’s eyes and getting trapped behind the O2 mask. He gently lifted the mask - knowing how the nurse would frown if she saw, but she wasn’t in there right now - and wiped Tom’s tears away as well, and took the opportunity to plant a soft, lingering kiss on his lips, which Tom returned, although weakly.
“Okay, Ice,” Maverick whispered against his husband’s lips. “Okay. I’ll call.”
He pulled Ice’s phone out of his pocket, as he was pretty sure at this point that Bradley had blocked his number, his other hand still holding Ice’s, and with a sigh of trepidation, tapped Bradley’s name.
It rang five times, then went to voicemail.
Ice squeezed his hand as if to say again.
He called a second time, still rang five times, then to voicemail. He looked at Ice dejectedly.
A squeeze. Again.
On the third ring of the third attempt, a voice answered.
“Pops?”
Maverick blinked, startled. He hadn’t heard Bradley’s voice in so long.
“Bradley?” A stupid thing to say, since it was clearly him.
“Yeah…”
“It’s…Dad. Maverick.”
“Oh.” A pause. “What do you want?”
“Bradley…have you not been getting any of my texts? Or voicemails?”
“I delete your voicemails without listening to them and your texts go to a blocked folder that I never check…Why?” His voice had an edge of anxiety in it, as though it just occurred to him that maybe Maverick had been trying to tell him something important…or that he was hiding something…
Maverick snorted, too pissed to mince words. “And your texts from Pops? Are you ignoring those too?”
“Up until a few days ago, his texts only said he needed to talk to me.”
Maverick closed his eyes for a moment. Of course Ice hadn’t texted their son with “I have cancer, call me now;” he’d been insisting on letting Bradley come to them on his own, because he wanted to see them. Maverick had only started texting from Ice’s phone last week, when the weakness had become even more apparent.
“And the texts from the last few days?” Maverick asked, working hard to keep the anger out of his voice.
But Maverick was surprised to hear fear and shame in his son’s voice.
“I…I know they were from you. And I…was too afraid and too ashamed to answer.”
Maverick blinked, then, after a squeeze on the hand from Ice, put the phone on speaker.
“You’re…ashamed?”
“Pops’ cancer is back, again, and I allowed my anger and pettiness stop me from calling him. A week ago the text said it was back, but the text from yesterday…you’re telling me that it’s even worse than what the doctor said a month ago?”
Maverick had to take several deep breaths. He had expected to hear another angry rant from Bradley, not contrition.
“Yes.”
“Dad…can I talk to Pops?”
Ice’s eyes filled with tears again, not just at hearing Bradley’s voice but at hearing Bradley call Maverick “Dad” for the first time in years, and Maverick could see his husband’s face screwing up just before he began to cry, and then Maverick’s own tears began again.
“Um, son, he can’t really talk, but you’re on speakerphone…”
“Pops? Pops, I love you, I’m so sorry, I thought you just wanted to talk about Dad again, I shouldn’t have been so petty, and I’m sorry, and…” now they could hear Bradley’s sobbing over the phone.
Ice weakly put the hand Maverick wasn’t holding over his heart briefly, before letting it drop back to the mattress. Maverick understood.
“Bradley, honey, Pops loves you. Can you get here soon? We’re at Naval Medical…I can talk to your CO if you want…”
“No, I’m sure it’s fine, it’s one of those times having an Admiral as your father comes in handy. I’ll be on the first flight I can get on once I talk to my CO.”
Maverick breathed a sigh of relief before the crying started again.
“Okay, okay good, get here as soon as you can. The doctors…said he only…has a few days…left….” Maverick gasped out between his own sobs.
“Okay, Dad, I’m coming as soon as I can. Hold on, Pops, okay?”
Ice nodded, his tears again leaking under the oxygen mask, his chest shaking.
“He nodded yes, son…text me when you’re here, okay?”
“Okay…Dad?”
“Yes, Bradley?”
“I…love you. And Pops. Both of you.”
The knot of despondency, regret, guilt, and shame that had lived in Maverick’s heart for over thirteen years suddenly began to untie itself, just a little.
“We love you too.”
And as he hung up the phone, he looked his husband in the eyes: those blue eyes again wet with tears, Ice’s body shaking. Due to the throat cancer he didn’t make much noise when he cried but Maverick could still hear those quiet wails, and again took the O2 mask off so he could wipe Ice’s tears, again pressed his face to Ice’s as they cried together, Maverick rocking him a little, his own cries shaking Ice’s body, Ice still squeezing Maverick’s hand with all the strength he could manage.