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It had started out as a regular day like any other. Maverick and Ice had gotten home from work, had dinner, and were then watching some action movie that they found on Netflix. Ice had been sitting on the couch while Maverick laid beside him, head in his lap, wheezing slightly.
Maverick had come down with a bit of a cold a week before and hadn’t been able to fully shake it. His fever had broken and he wasn’t nearly as congested, but the cough would just not ease up. The pain that it caused his throat couldn’t be understated, though Maverick was trying his best not to be his usual over dramatic self, especially since he knew that Ice was probably tired of hearing about it; Maverick was certainly tired of it.
However, when Maverick had suddenly started to cough, a hand coming up to his mouth desperately, it had sent a shiver down Ice’s spine. Ice had started to rub his back like he always tended to do now during his fits. It didn’t take long, though, for Maverick to practically shove him off as he rushed to his feet and made a beeline to the bathroom.
“Maverick,” Ice questioned, already standing and heading after him as worry gnawed at his stomach.
When Ice opened the bathroom door to find Maverick bowed over the sink, coughing up heavy mouthfuls of blood with fear in his eyes, he had immediately taken Maverick and drove him to the nearest hospital in no time flat.
They had kept him a few days until finally coming back with a diagnosis.
Stage III throat cancer.
The doctors had been hopeful, or at least appeared to be, and had been quick to set up an intense chemo and radiation schedule that would give Maverick the best chance at remission and survival. Ice and Maverick had been hopeful and willing to do all they could in an effort to fight this.
That was eight months ago.
Ice sighed as he stood at his counter, looking at the stack of bills the hospital had sent over. Although their insurance through the VA covered some of it, most of the more experimental procedures weren’t covered, which left Ice slightly panicking at how he would ever pay it back. He wouldn’t have traded it, though, even when they didn’t work. They had needed to try it for their own sanity and wouldn’t have rested until they did.
Rest was a word that Ice had grown to absolutely loath. Everyone was telling him and Maverick that they needed to ‘rest’. Whether that be take days off or not worry about things, Ice found himself unable to do so. He was always worried that something would happen because he decided to take a break. They had experienced too many medical scares with Maverick from times where he stopped breathing or grew so weak he couldn’t get out of the bed for Ice to be able to ever really relax. Rest could wait until Ice was dead.
Wet coughing captured Ice’s attention as he pushed himself away from the counter and headed back into the living room where Maverick was sitting in an old recliner chair, head partially reclined back as he breathed huskily, coughing painfully, hands too weak to come up to cover.
Ice was at his side in a moment, pulling a few tissues from a nearby box as he went. He partially crouched down beside Maverick and instructed him to cough into the folds, painfully aware of the blood he could already feel seeping into the tissues.
“That’s it,” Ice chided as Maverick’s coughing began to slow. He used the tissues to wipe the corners of his mouth where blood was freely trickling, the motion swift and light before Maverick could even notice.
Maverick opened his glassy eyes, breathing noisily through his open mouth. “Ice?”
Ice took Maverick’s hand in his own, wincing at how frigid his fingers were. “Yeah, honey. I’m right here. Do you need something?”
Tears shown in Maverick’s eyes as he lifted his hand to the best of his ability and pointed towards his throat where a bandage was still hanging off the side. “Hurts, Ice.”
Ice frowned in sympathy as he spun his watch on his wrist. It was still a little early for more pain meds, but one more look at how worn Maverick was, and how close he was from breaking down, made the decision for him.
“Alright, I’m going to go grab you another dose of meds. Hang tight.” Ice leaned forward and couldn’t help but press his lips to Maverick’s temple, already feeling the beginnings of a fever. Ordinarily that would mean another trip to the ER, but they had just been there a couple days ago and the doctors had said there wasn’t anymore that they could do besides keep Maverick comfortable. It was then that Maverick had begged not to go back there, and Ice had agreed, despite what he had felt on the matter.
Ice headed over to the kitchen and opened the medicine cabinet at the edge of the island. There were so many bottles and liquids that it nearly sent Ice’s mind buzzing. Luckily, he was used to the plethora of medication and what Maverick could have at any given time. The pain medication was front and center, as it was the one that Maverick needed and took the most. Ice took it without hesitation and brought it back into the living room.
The next step was a little more complicated. He placed one of the large pills into a pill crusher until it turned into a fine white powder. He then added water to it and stirred it until it was practically completely dissolved. Ice twisted around and grabbed a new syringe, pressing the tip into the water and drawing the liquid in. Ice then set it aside on the coffee table before grabbing another syringe and filling it with room temperature water.
“Ready,” Ice asked as he pulled Maverick’s shirt up and reached for his feeding tube. He grabbed the G connection and screwed the syringe on, flushing his tube with water before unscrewing that syringe and reaching for the one that was mixed with the pain medication. Ice sighed to himself and pushed the meds, watching as Maverick grimaced slightly before his head turned to the side, eyes listless.
Ice unscrewed the syringe and set it aside once he closed his G-tube connection and made sure that the J position was still draining properly into the bag that hung over the side of the recliner. Ice couldn’t help but check for signs of infection or irritation by lifting the pad that he had wrapped around the feeding tube gingerly. It was red, but no more than usual. Ice set the pad back and brought his shirt down.
“It’ll kick in soon,” he reassured as he grabbed Maverick’s knee and squeezed.
Maverick hummed to himself before forcing his eyes open. “Lay with me,” he begged, voice so low and gravely that Ice almost had to ask him to repeat.
“Think we can both fit,” Ice asked, attempting to keep amusement in his voice.
Maverick tried to scoot only over to fall back, face screwed up in clear discomfort.
“Don’t do that.” Ice jumped right into action and expertly rolled over the armrest and slid in behind Maverick, nearly bringing him onto his lap so that they fit on the recliner perfectly. Ice’s hands grasped Maverick’s hips, struggling not to frown at how skinny Maverick had become. The chemo and radiation had taken it’s toll and it was something that Ice tried not to dwell on.
“This okay,” Ice whispered against the back of his neck.
Maverick gave a small cough, entire body shaking. “M’cold, Ice.”
Ice reached around to pull the blanket on Maverick’s legs around his body while also holding him close. “This better?”
Maverick nodded weakly before craning his neck and shoulders around so hat he could look directly in Ice’s stormy grey eyes. “Ice?”
“Yes, Mav?”
Tears suddenly began to stream down Maverick’s face, dripping onto his shirt. “I don’t want to die.”
“What? You’re not going to die!” Ice gave him a firm squeeze, a little worried that Maverick may just break because of it. “You’re going to be fine.”
Maverick shook his head. “You can’t promise that. I’ve heard what the doctors have said. I’m not going to make it out of this one.”
“Yes, you are,” Ice told him firmly, grasping either sides of his face and forcing Maverick to look directly into his eyes. “You are going to get better and we’re going to travel.....and go on that road trip across the US like you wanted. We’re going to get drunk, and stay up late and tell stories. You are going to beat this.”
Maverick’s heart ached in his chest. The desperation in Ice’s voice shot daggers through his own heart, wishing that he could take the pain that Ice was feeling away.
“Love of my life, you and I both know I won’t. But, that doesn’t mean that you can’t.” Maverick turned his head to the side to cough, the sound crackling in his throat.
Agitation burned through Ice as he glared at Maverick. “Don’t you fucking say that! You’re going to be fine!”
Maverick leaned forward and pressed his forehead to his husband’s. When his eyes slowly opened, he could see that Ice was struggling not to break down then and there. His bottom lip trembled as his eyes grew misty, Adam’s apple bobbing as he forcibly swallowed.
“Thanks for always being my wingman. Everyday that I got to spend with you was paradise.” Maverick’s lungs ached as he spoke. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but you need to let me go.”
Ice pressed his forehead even more forcibly against Maverick’s. “Don’t do this to me. I can’t do this without you.”
“Yes you can,” Maverick praised patiently. He managed to lift a hand and tucked it under Ice’s shirt until it was rested against his rapidly beating heart. “You’re so much stronger than you know. It’s one of the things that I fell in love with about you.”
Ice could feel the weight of Maverick’s words crash over him and he couldn’t help but pull away from Maverick momentarily before wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling him close so that Maverick’s head was rested on his chest. Ice rubbed at Maverick’s back when he started to cough, trying to ignore the damp spots that he felt on his thin t-shirt. He didn’t dare look down, fearful that it may be blood, and knowing that he couldn’t deal with seeing that.
“You’re safe with me, Mav. You’ve always been safe with me,” Ice whispered, tears freely falling. He sniffled deeply and buried his head into what remained of Maverick’s thinning hair. He would need to shave it off soon, but Maverick had been adamant that he wanted to put it off as long as possible, to which Ice respected wholeheartedly.
Ice’s thoughts began to wander while he continued to rub Maverick’s back sleepily. He wasn’t sure how long they were wrapped in one another when he no longer felt Maverick’s hot breath against his chest.
“Mav,” Ice sniffled as he looked down.
When he received no response, Ice gave him a few strong shakes.
“Maverick? Mav? Pete!” Ice pushed Maverick away just enough so that he could see his face. It was neutral with eyes closed, though his chest no longer rose and fell with each breath. Ice slipped his hand in front of Maverick’s nose, heart dropping in his stomach as his worst fears were realized when he couldn’t feel anything against his fingers, no stirring of air....no proof of life.
“Maverick!” Ice pulled him close again and began to sob. “No! God, no! Take me instead! Don’t you fucking dare take him away from me! Do you hear me? Mav!”
The logical part of Ice’s brain told him to accept what was in front of him. They had given him only a few months, and he had already surpassed that. Everyday he grew weaker and things became even harder to do until merely breathing and existing was a deadly struggle. Maverick had taken on an almost ghostly appearance, yet Ice deep down had hoped that he would beat all odds and beat this.
The horrifying realization that was no longer the case was daunting.
“Mav,” Ice gasped between sobs. “I don’t know how to do this without you.”
The universe gave no answer.
Sighing, Ice continued to hold Maverick close, wishing that he could hear him talk one more time, fearful that he would one day forget exactly what Maverick’s voice may sound like.
“I love you, still.”
Ice could’ve sworn that he heard a voice whisper, ‘always’.