Chapter Text
—*.:°·｡:*—
“I think I’m cursed.”
Ice just laughs. “Cursed? I don’t know about that one, Mitchell. You’re dangerous, and I’ve told you that before. But you’re not cursed.”
“I am, I know it,” Maverick insists. “The evidence is clear.”
Ice leans back against the bar counter and raises his eyebrows. “Alright, so what’s the evidence?”
Mav opens his mouth to answer, but the words die on his tongue because he’s not really inclined to tell Ice that everyone he’s ever loved has died. That’s not something you say to a guy who used to be your rival and has only recently become your friend.
The thing is, Mav does have evidence. In his mind, at least. He’s compiled it ever so slowly over the years but it’s all there.
First, there’s his father. He knows Duke Mitchell’s plane went down when he was young. He knows he was branded a traitor and subsequently made Mav’s life at the Navy a living hell among his peers. And he knows that aside from Viper, no one can really tell him what happened. Mysterious, right?
Then, there’s his mom. She died soon after his father did, and the hospital might as well have told him it was of a broken heart. That shit only happens in the movies. They should’ve been able to tell him what was wrong with her, but all his childhood self got was “At least your parents are together in the afterlife,” with no regard to the fact that they’d left him alone.
Now, Mav knows a thesis needs three pieces of reasoning. That’s one thing the teachers drilled into him early on. And the third piece is Goose.
Goose, who it still hurts too much to think about. Goose, who was always there for Mav and never asked for anything in return. And Mav paid him back by getting him killed.
It should have been him. But he’s cursed. Obviously.
And now all of his family is gone except for Carole and Bradley, and he wants to be there for them and help Carole out and watch Bradley grow up. But he can’t do that if they’re doomed just by loving him.
Which is why he’s asking Ice for help. But all this is way too personal to tell Iceman “No Mistakes” Kazansky, so he settles for a grin and says cheekily, “That’s classified.”
Ice lets out a groan. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me anything, Mitchell. I’m your wingman, not your fairy tale knight. This your idea of a joke?” He pushes back in his chair, like he’s getting ready to leave.
Mav’s breath catches in his throat. “It’s not a joke,” he says, almost pleadingly, and Ice must see some semblance of the truth in his eyes because his expression softens just the slightest bit and he sits back down. “I don’t know how to tell you all of it yet, because it’s personal,” Mav continues, stumbling over his words. “It’s got to do with the people I love, and I need to protect them, but I can’t do that if I’m cursed, which is why I need your help.”
“Alright,” Ice says slowly. “So what do you need me to do?”
“I think if there’s anywhere I was cursed, there’d be clues at the beach,” Mav says, leaning forward conspiratorially.
Ice leans forward to match him, just an inch. “The beach?”
“Yeah,” Mav says. “Because I used to go there all the time as a kid, before my dad died. And I think that’s where we should start.”
“So you want to go to the beach and… what, look for anything shiny?”
Mav shrugs. “I figure we’ll know it when we see it.”
Ice crosses his arms. “You still haven’t given me anything to make me believe this isn’t a joke.”
“You’re right,” Mav says. Everyone I’ve ever loved has died, the evidence is irrefutable, I even used a big word for you, will you help me, Iceman Kazansky, because I don’t love you yet and I can never let myself. “You’re just gonna have to trust me.”
“I hate you,” Ice says resignedly.
“But?” Mav asks with a grin.
He sighs. “But I’ve got nothing better to do since we’ve still got some time before we start with teaching, and I doubt you’d have asked me for help if it wasn’t important.”
“Yes!” Mav pumps his fist and pours the rest of his drink into Ice’s glass.
Ice stares at it for a moment. “Thanks?”
“Meet me at my house tomorrow morning,” Mav says, grabbing his jacket and sunglasses off the countertop while pointing at Ice, who scoffs.
“No way, I’m the one helping you here. Meet me at my house, it’s closer to the beach anyway.”
“Fine,” Mav says, dragging the word out so he can see the annoyed look he knows Ice will give him.
“You’re a child, Mitchell,” Ice says, but he’s smiling.
“You know it,” Mav says cheerily, walking away backwards. “See you tomorrow. And Ice?”
His wingman turns around. “Yeah?”
“Thanks,” Mav says, letting a rare bit of sincerity seep into his voice.
Ice’s smile grows just the slightest amount, and Mav drives home with the image of it stamped into his mind.
Yeah. It’ll be totally fine.
—*.:°·｡:*—
Mav feels his heart racing as he pulls to a stop in front of Ice’s house. The ticking of his watch is all he can hear pulsing through his head. Well, that, and Charlie’s voice saying “You’re late,” all those weeks ago.
Charlie saying “I just don’t think you’re committed to this, Pete, and frankly, I don’t think I can see myself with you in ten years, either, or even two.”
Him, pathetic, saying “I thought this was going well.” Like an idiot.
“I thought so too, but half your heart is still up in the air, talking to Goose.”
Mav squeezes his eyes shut, pushing that conversation all the way down, and knocks on Ice’s door, preparing for the disapproval.
Ice pulls the door open, and a teasing grin spreads across his face. “Morning, huh?”
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Mav says placatingly. “I meant to be here by morning, I really did, but I woke up late and I lost track of time and–”
“Relax, Mitchell,” Ice says, clapping him on the shoulder. “I didn’t mind the time to myself.”
“Really?” Mav finds himself saying as he follows Ice into the house. He curses himself the instant it comes out of his mouth. Weak, he tells himself.
“Really,” Ice says, and he somehow manages not to make it sound belittling, just casually reassuring. He walks over to his fridge and pulls out a pitcher of water. “You want anything to drink?”
“Nah, I’m good,” Mav says, sneaking glances around Ice’s living room. He does a double take at the photos on the wall and steps closer. There, mounted and framed, is the photo of him and Ice after that mission. It’s the same one he’d kind of wanted to frame too. They’re pulling back from a hug, or maybe going in for a hug. One of those. But they look happy, which isn’t something Mav has gotten often lately. He points at it and turns to Ice. “You framed this?”
“Oh,” Ice says, sounding embarrassed. “Yeah, I did. I just– it was a big mission, big victory, and I look good in the picture, and stuff.”
“Right,” Mav says with a grin. “You like me, Kazansky.”
Ice chokes, sputtering his water back into his glass. “I tolerate you,” he says, coughing. “That’s all. Now are we going to the beach or what?”
“Let’s take my bike,” Mav says, spinning his keys around his finger.
“Oh, no,” Ice says.
“Oh, yeah.”
They take the bike, Ice’s arms wrapped tightly around him from behind, and somehow Mav doesn’t even mind that he’s nearly squeezing the life out of him. If he closes his eyes (which he is not doing because he’s driving, but if he closes his eyes), he can feel Charlie’s arms, thinner but squeezing even tighter, telling him to slow down, screaming at him that there’s a car coming. Every time they took his bike, she’d say “I’m driving next time.”
Ice says the same thing when they reach the beach. But it’s the way he says it that’s different. More like he’s making fun of himself, and not of Mav’s driving.
And there he goes, thinking about Charlie again. Thinking about how different Ice is, and he doesn’t even know why he’s comparing them. His relationship with Ice is nowhere near similar to what he had with Charlie. It never will be, Mav reminds himself, because he can’t let himself love anyone else.
Not that he’d love Ice anyway. The words “Ice” and “love” shouldn’t even belong in the same sentence.
Regardless, they always leave one way or another. Whether it’s by choice, like with Charlie, or by accident. Like with Goose.
Focus, Mav tells himself. This is why they’re here, so Carole and Bradley don’t go the same way. He needs to make sure they’ll be safe, that he won’t doom them just by being in their lives, but he also knows that he needs them and they need him and so he can’t just leave.
“Lead the way, princess,” Ice drawls behind him, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“Right,” Mav says, blinking a few times. “So how do people usually get cursed in the movies?”
“You’re basing this off the movies?”
“Humor me.”
“Alright,” Ice says with a sigh. “Well, usually it’s like, some ugly old woman gets jealous of a beautiful princess and curses her to get locked away somewhere. But you’re not a beautiful princess, so I can’t tell you why someone would’ve cursed you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Mav says, pressing his hands to his heart sarcastically. “You could’ve at least softened the blow by saying I was handsome.”
Ice shakes his head, smirking. “Nah. Your ego’s big enough already.”
Mav ignores the slight swooping feeling in his stomach and starts toward the waves. “Come on, let’s find some fairy tale shit on this beach.”
“What the hell are we even looking for?” Ice calls, jogging after him.
“Anything,” Mav says back, bending down to pick a shell out of the wet sand. It’s just a broken piece of normal white shell, so he tosses it back into the water.
Ice sighs, turning to face Mav with his hands on his hips. Mav watches the waves push around Ice’s ankles, rippling the seawater. “I don’t know what to tell you, Maverick. I still don’t think you’re cursed.”
“Well, I think I am, and I’d know better than you,” Mav says, picking up another shell. It’s two halves still attached to each other, and he opens it up to let the iridescent insides face the sun. “See? There could’ve been some witchy spell in here.”
“But there’s not,” Ice says, unimpressed.
Mav shrugs. “You never know. You might drop dead later.” Something catches in his chest as he says that, and suddenly he can’t breathe. He wants to take it back. He’s almost forgotten how sudden death can be, and it feels like a betrayal. Maybe by saying it, he’s already tempted the universe into planning Ice’s downfall.
Ice rushes forward as Mav pulls at the thin cotton of his t-shirt. “Hey,” he says. “Hey, you okay?” Mav tries to nod, but his body betrays him and he shakes his head. “Breathe, Maverick,” he hears Ice say distantly. “Breathe in.”
He does as Ice says, letting the oxygen loosen the tightness in his chest. “Hold it for a moment,” Ice says. “Breathe out.”
He’s vaguely aware of the water soaking through both of their clothes and Ice’s arms holding him up, and he quickly stands back up, taking in another breath. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean to. Uh.”
“It’s alright,” Ice says. “It’s happened to me before too. And a little water won’t hurt us, especially on the beach.”
Mav nods. It’s been weeks since death fucking smacked him to the ground and made him remember it existed. He feels like he should be over it. A stronger man would be.
“Is this about Goose?” Ice asks hesitantly.
“I know, it’s stupid,” Mav starts to say, but Ice shakes his head.
“It’s not stupid, Mitchell. You lost your best friend. You’re allowed to grieve.”
Mav tries to manage a grateful smile, because he’s more grateful than Ice will ever be allowed to know, but his face won’t even do that. Ice smiles for the both of them and says, “Come on. Let’s go find some fairy tale shit.”
Mav nods. “Yeah. Let’s.”
He’s a bit surprised Ice isn’t laughing at him for being weak. After all, that was his brand for the entirety of their time at TOPGUN – Ice telling him he was dangerous, telling him what he was doing wrong at every single turn. But now it’s weird. It’s almost like he cares.
Mav thinks he might not mind that too much.
And that, of course, is when he steps on something with a loud crunch.
“What was that?” Ice asks, turning around.
“I hope I didn’t kill a crab,” Mav says, lifting his foot.
They stare at the ground for a moment.
Ice says slowly, “You killed a sand dollar.”
There in the sand are three sand dollars, all of them whole except for the one he just stepped on. For all his years living by the sea, Mav has never seen a whole sand dollar, let alone three of them. And he just broke one.
“What the fuck did I do?” Mav breathes.
Ice raises his eyebrows. “You. Killed. A sand dollar. That’s all.”
“Yeah, but doesn’t that look spooky to you?” Mav asks frantically. “Three of them, just perfectly here when normally you don’t even see one?”
“Okay, it is a bit weird,” Ice admits. “But this isn’t enough to prove that you’re cursed or how to undo it. You know that, right?”
“I know,” Mav mumbles. He kneels down to pick up the pieces of the broken sand dollar. As he lifts them out of the sand, something shiny flashes underneath. He digs it out and holds it up to the sun.
Ice leans closer. “An airplane keychain?”
“From the Air and Space Museum,” Mav says. “You up for a museum trip?”
Ice sighs. “This is a wild goose chase, Mitchell.”
“Maybe,” Mav says. “Or maybe it’ll keep my family safe.”
Ice shakes his head. “I still don’t know how this is gonna help, but I said I’d help you. Let’s go back to my place and take my car if we’re going all the way over there.”
They ride back to Ice’s house, and as Ice dismounts from the bike, he says, “I think I’m getting used to this,” which shouldn’t make Mav feel so light but it does.
The phone rings as they walk into the house. Ice walks over to it and picks up, and Mav busies himself with looking at Ice’s photos again while he talks on the phone.
“Maverick,” Ice says, holding the phone out to him. “It’s for you.”
“For me?” Mav asks confusedly. Whoever’s calling him at Ice’s house knows him well enough to know he’s been spending more and more time with Ice. And if they’re calling at Ice’s house, it means something’s wrong.
Ice nods. “It’s Carole.”
—*.:°·｡:*—