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"My dad believed in you... I'm not gonna make the same mistake," He seethed.
Maverick shuddered. For a second, only a split second, Rooster felt a stab of guilt. The point of the argument wasn't even his dad, it was his naval papers. Rooster wanted him to take the bait, to argue with him. Then it'd be a fair fight, insults and all.
But he didn't.
Instead, Maverick turned away. "Go home, Rooster."
Rooster's chest heaved as the man walked out, the door slamming shut behind.
Why should he get to leave!? Rooster was still fuming, and he'd be damned if Maverick didn't get a piece of his mind. He stormed towards the door but hesitated on the handle.
He had to be careful though. Despite being off the clock for the day, he still had to spend three more weeks and fly a mission with the man, so he had to mind his temper, just a little bit.
He yanked the door open, mind ready, anger top level.
But he faltered.
There, leaning against the wall, pale, sweating and panicking was Maverick.
Rooster stared, not sure what to do. Mav clearly hadn't noticed him yet or wasn't aware of him yet. His hands fisted his hair, pulling it tightly. Rooster wanted to shout out for him to stop, but he couldn't find his voice. Maverick's breathing was laboured, and raspy.
As the captain slid to the ground, clutching at his chest, Rooster realised he'd gone too far.
Maverick was having a panic attack.
Fuck, Rooster hadn't completed his first aid training yet! He had no idea how to manage a panic attack! He watched with wide eyes as his godfather struggled for oxygen on the dirty navy floor, whining and crying out.
Rooster fumbled for his phone. He pressed the first number to come up, praying to god it was a friendly voice that answered. He paced as it rang, casting worried glances over to the hyperventilating captain.
"Trace," The phone spoke. "Tash, thank fuck." He breathed out, running a hand through his hair. "Bradley? What's going on?" He shook his head before realising she couldn't see him. "Nevermind, how do you stop a panic attack?"
"You don't sound like you're having one," Rooster rolled his eyes. "I'm not!" He hissed. "But... just, never mind, how do you stop one?" No doubt, when he finally came out of it, Maverick would be mortified over this.
He was supposed to be the unshakable captain that everyone relied on. "You can't stop one, as such, more come out of it," Natasha said. "Where are you? I'll come,"
"No time. What do you do?" He bit his lip, watching in morbid curiosity as Mav's face dropped a few shades. "Explain that they're having a panic attack and that they're going to be fine. Get them to follow your breathing. Overexadurate it. Deep breaths in and out." Rooster placed the phone on the floor. "If they let you make their hand touch your chest so they can feel it for themselves," He reached out to touch Mav's arm, but the man jerked away. His breathing grew worse.
"It didn't work, Tash! He pulled away!" Rooster shouted into the phone. "Use the senses. Five things you can see, four things you can feel, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste,"
"If that doesn't work?" He asked. Natasha audibly hesitated. "They'll pass out eventually. He won't die from this, his airways aren't actually restricted." Rooster sighed shakily. "Ok..." He said quietly. "Thanks, Tash," He hung up the call.
"Mav, I need you to focus on my voice. You're having a panic attack, but you're going to be fine," Rooster said loudly. He crouched down in front of Maverick's eye line, making the sole focus him. "I need you to name me five things you see. Got it? Five,"
Maverick swallowed loudly. Rooster nodded encouragingly. "Uh... you..." He raised his shaking hands. "My hands... the door... shoes... uh.... wall," He stuttered. "Good, good. Now, four things you can feel,"
Maverick took a long breath in through his nose. "The sea.... my jacket... you... the floor,"
Rooster smiled as he placed a hand on his godfather's arm. "Now three things you can hear," He watched as the colour slowly moved back into Mav's face, and the trembling of his hands slowed. "The sea... your voice... my jacket..." Rooster began to take deep breaths, as Tash had said. "Two things you can smell,"
"You and coffee,"
Rooster playfully rolled his eyes. Maverick's chest slowed back to normal and the colour flooded back to his face, instead moving to Roosters guilt, deep within his heart. He sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Mav. I-I didn't mean what I said about my dad... I was-I was just angry." He couldn't meet his eyes.
Rooster looked up when a boot nudged his leg. Maverick looked dead on the floor, barely keeping himself upright. Rooster had heard that a panic attack sucks all the life and energy out of your body, leaving you just enough to get to bed.
"Kid, no matter what you say, I'll love you. I promised your parents I would, and I don't plan on breaking that anytime soon."
Rooster grit his teeth. "But you shouldn't... I was a dick. Dad would be ashamed." He berated himself. What the hell would his dad say over this? "He definitely wouldn't be happy with you, but he wouldn't be ashamed. Kid, he loved you with his whole heart. Nothing you could do would ever change that,"
Rooster met his godfather's eyes, even as he smirked slightly. "Your mom would be just as proud."
Rooster smiled tightly as he stood. He extended a hand down and helped Maverick up. "I'll walk you out. It's not safe for you to ride, so Tash is coming to get us." He helped Maverick walk, knowing he was bone-dead exhausted.
"Thanks kid,"