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Maverick stood over the sink, washing a bowl for the past twenty minutes as he stared out the window. He fell into a rhythmic trap, unable to put the bowl down and move to any of the other dishes when his mind was racing the way that it was. He felt as though he was disconnecting from his body and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
Stage four.
Inoperative.
Palliative care.
2-6 months.
Suddenly, the bowl slipped from his grasp and landed in the sink with a harsh clank. Maverick stared at it for a minute or so before deciding to do something about it, gripping it and continuing to rinse and wash it.
It was only when coughing echoed from down the hall that Maverick rushed to turn off the water and set the bowl aside. He dried his hands on the front of his shirt as he sped down the hallway, heart nearly beating out of his chest, lungs burning as he tried to keep himself together.
When he slipped into the room he saw Ice sitting upright in bed, legs swung over the side and feet an inch from the floor. He was coughing productively into a raised fist, abdomen flexing from the jarring intensity of it.
Maverick sprung into action and grabbed the tissue box on the nightstand and came over to sit beside him, switching out Ice’s fist for the tissues. “That’s it,” Maverick soothed as he patted on his back gently. “Cough that shit up if you can. The doctor says you’ll feel a lot better when you do.”
Ice’s entire body bent forward as he was finally able to cough up the phlegm that had given him such trouble. He nearly toppled over, but Maverick had reached out his arm around his shoulder to keep him upright. He took the tissues from Ice and set it in the trashcan they kept by the bed just in case Ice got sick and couldn’t make it to the bathroom.
“You okay, honey,” Maverick whispered as he brushed Ice’s thinning hair back, wincing as a few strands fell out onto his fingers.
Ice nodded weakly.
“What are you doing up? You should be resting.” Maverick kissed his temple, frowning when he felt how warm he was.
Ice wrinkled his nose and pointed toward the door towards the bathroom.
Maverick bit the inside of his cheek before nodding. He leapt up and stood in front of Ice as he leaned over, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Okay, on three. One—“
Ice forcefully shoved him off, determination glowing in his eyes. Although he didn’t speak, Maverick could still see that fire in his eyes. His callsign still applied, and any other person would crumple with the stare that Ice was giving Maverick. Unfortunately for Ice, Maverick had been around for a long time and that look no longer worked on him, though it did send a few shivers down his spine if he was honest.
“Alright, fine.” Maverick held his hands in surrender and took a step back. “I’ll give you space, but you at least have to use your walker. Deal?”
Ice looked like he still wanted to argue, but thought better of it. Maverick was still a stubborn son of a bitch, and Ice was too tired to battle him in wits at the moment.
Maverick counted that as a win and went into the closet to grab the walker that Ice wholeheartedly despised. He would much rather use a cane, though the walker was better than the wheelchair where he had to rely on Maverick to push him around as his arms were too weak for him to do it himself. If the walker was the only way that Maverick would let him try and walk on his own, then he would suck it up and deal with it, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Once the walker was situated in front of Ice, he reached out his hands to grip the sides. His heels dug into the carpet, breath heaving out of his nose as he mentally prepared for what he had to do.
With a short rocking motion, Ice stood, Maverick at the ready in case he became unsteady. His muscles were bunched and ready, even when Ice gave him a firm look as he stood, legs quaking.
Maverick was about to take a step back when Ice’s leg knee suddenly bucked. He managed to catch himself with his walker and straightened while Maverick did everything in his power not to immediately have him sit back down.
“M’fine,” Ice rasped before coughing downwards to his chest, throat spasming and bringing tears to his eyes.
“Honey, please, just let me help.” Maverick cleared his own throat and grasped Ice’s elbow. “Just one side. You can do the other. Please.”
Ice could see the real desperation on Maverick’s face. There was something about staring into his eyes and seeing that fear, of not knowing what he could do to help that Ice identified with. Even if it happened to be a blow to his ego, he realized that he couldn’t punish Maverick just because he was embarrassed. Besides, he was a lot more unsteady than he expected
Ice sighed before nodding and lifted his arm toward Maverick.
Maverick instantly brightened and grasped his arm, hauling him up easily while Ice used his other hand to anchor himself to his walker. This time it was much easier for him to stand and even take a few steps, eyes narrowed as he felt Maverick trying to take as much of his weight as possible.
“Mav,” Ice coughed after a moment. “Let.....me.”
Maverick blushed and nodded, trying not to say something he would end up regretting. “Okay, but I’ll be right behind you.”
Ice waited as Maverick allowed him to rest his other arm his walker, and it was only when Maverick was absolutely sure that Ice had a firm grasp that he slowly edged away, still half expecting Ice to need him once more. He could feel his heart leap into his throat as Ice took a step, wanting so badly to take all the pain that he could from him.
It took another five minutes to actually make it to the bathroom, to which Maverick counted it as a win while Ice seemed beyond frustrated with himself.
Maverick closed the door once they stepped in despite them being the only two in the house. He often tried to keep things as normal as possible, so if that meant closing the door in their empty house, that was what he was going to do. Ice never called it on him, chalking it up to be one of Maverick’s idiosyncrasies that he loved.
“Do you need any help,” Maverick questioned. This wouldn’t have been the first time that Maverick had helped Ice in the bathroom, even changing out his catheter when he had one, especially after his tracheotomy. It wasn’t something that they never spoke about since Maverick knew how embarrassed Ice was over it, no matter how much Maverick tried to reassure him.
Tears began to well in Ice’s eyes and Maverick immediately came over and wrapped him in a tight hug and kissing his forehead. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Ice, it’s okay. You know that I don’t mind, and you don’t have to be embarrassed.”
“I’m so sorry,” Ice sobbed. “You shouldn’t have to do this with me.”
Maverick pulled himself just far enough from Ice and rested his hands on either sides of his face and held him tightly. “I love you, Ice. I would do absolutely anything for you, just like I know you would do for me. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”
Ice continued to sob as he held onto Maverick, entire body shaking. Maverick held Ice close, wishing he could take all the pain away. “It’s all going to be okay. I love you so, so much. It hurts so badly that I can’t take this away from you. I’m so sorry, honey.”
Suddenly, Ice’s crying tampered off and he went completely limp in Maverick’s arms.
“Shit, shit,” Maverick muttered as he fought to hold Ice upright as he became dead weight. While this wasn’t the first time that Ice had fainted, far from it actually, it still freaked Maverick out nonetheless. Chemo and radiation had been absolutely hell for Ice and passing out was just part of their everyday life. It hadn’t happened in a few days, and Maverick was beyond thankful for that, but his sudden emotional breakdown combined with exhaustion hadn’t been the best combination to keeping him conscious.
“Okay, we’re gonna just hang out down here for a bit,” Maverick grunted as he slid down to the floor, arms still wrapped protectively around Ice. He then took his fist and began to rub at the center of his chest, applying just enough pressure that it was uncomfortable and not painful. After Ice had passed out once at the infusion center, one of the nurses had done this and it had roused him quicker than anything Maverick had tried at home.
It was only a few more seconds before Ice’s eyes began to flutter open before forcibly closing once more.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Maverick whispered against the side of Ice’s face, still rubbing against his chest.
Ice groaned, hardly budging from Maverick’s grasp. If anything he seemed to snuggle closer.
“You can rest as long as you need to once we get you back to bed, okay? But we can’t sleep on the floor.” Maverick swallowed a lump in his throat at how weak Ice was. He hardly felt like anything nestled close to him like that, and Maverick could feel each and everyone of his ribs without even pressing.
Suddenly, Ice made an attempt to stand and Maverick reacted quickly, pulling him back down before he could hurt himself. It was as though the motion was too much for Ice and his eyes rolled back in his head as he fell limp a giants Maverick once more.
Worry washed over Maverick at how quickly Ice had passed out once again. It wasn’t uncommon for it to happen repeatedly, but so quickly after the first time was weird to say the least.
It was only the feel of dampness that broke Maverick from his thoughts and he looked down to see that the floor was wet. His head tilted before realization dawned on him and he sighed, still holding Ice close.
“It’s okay. It’s not a big deal,” he whispered, well aware that Ice couldn’t hear him. For once he was thankful that Ice wasn’t aware of what happened, knowing how horrified and embarrassed he would be if he knew that he had lost control of his bladder.
Maverick instantly fell into caretaker mode. He pulled Ice away from the puddle and stripped him out of his soiled clothing and changed him into something new after cleaning him up. Ice was still out while Maverick cleaned the floor and changed himself. By the time he finished, Ice was slightly rousing, though he was too tired to open his eyes.
Knowing that he wasn’t able to carry Ice back to their room if he decided to fight against him, Maverick slipped out of the bathroom and came back with his wheelchair. He locked the wheels before kneeling beside Ice and scooping him up gingerly. He set Ice into his wheelchair with a grunt of effort, back slightly straining in protest. Maverick was able to set Ice back and unlock the wheels before steering him back to the bedroom.
Transferring him from wheelchair was something that Maverick had gotten rather good at and found it much easier to do than lifting Ice from the floor.
Maverick adjusted the blankets around him and was just about to pull the wheelchair away from the bed when he felt a hand come up and gingerly brush the back of his forearm.
“Ice,” Maverick whispered, taking Ice’s hand in his own. His eyes were still closed, but Maverick was almost certain that he was awake. “Do you need something? One squeeze for yes and two for no.”
Ice weakly squeezed once.
“Do you want something to drink?”
Two squeezes.
“Anymore pain medication?”
Two squeezes.
“Another blanket?”
Two squeezes.
Maverick was at a loss as to what Ice could need. Before he could ask about anything else, Ice pulled at Maverick’s hand desperately. “You?”
“Of course!” Maverick leaned down to kiss Ice’s temple before coming around the other side of the bed and slipping in next to him, snuggling up against him timidly as he waited for Ice to give the sign that he wanted more contact.
Ice reached out feebly and snagged two fingers in Maverick’s shirt, with Maverick crawling closer and wrapping his arms around Ice to hold him close. He could feel his bones jutting out against his skinand struggled not to dwell on how small Ice had become. He would never consider him weak, through so much of his muscle had been withered away once he started his treatments.
Maverick only looked down to see Ice frowning when he pressed his head into his chest. “Hey, you alright? Do you want me to change? Is my shirt too rough?”
Ice shook his head. “Diff....rent.”
“Different?” Maverick’s heart fell. “Yeah, I changed out of my other one. I didn’t think you’d want to smell my sweat.”
There was a brief pause before Ice started to silently cry against Maverick’s chest. Wetness began to spread and Maverick held him even tighter, chin rested on top of his head. “Sweetheart,” Maverick whispered. “It’s alright.”
“I’m sorry,” Ice sobbed. “I’m disgusting.”
“No, you’re not,” Maverick told him sternly, giving him an extra squeeze of comfort. “You’re sick, honey. Sometimes things happen and that’s okay. You’ve seen me in worse states. Please don’t be embarrassed about this.”
Ice continued to cry, entire body shaking. Maverick attempted to keep him grounded through comforting touch, knowing exactly where to press to abate the pain that he knew Ice carried. He wished he could do the same for the deep emotion that flowed through him. So many nights he begged whoever was listening to take the pain away from Ice and give it to himself, just to give his husband a break. He never received any answer and no longer expected me, the realization that it was just him and Ice alone to deal with this a sobering fact.
Maverick would never wish this on his worst enemy, and here he watching the love of his life struggle with his own body in ways he could’ve never fathomed. All Maverick knew to do was be there for him in anyway possible, and hope the next day was better than the last.