Chapter Text
1987
A clap of thunder echoed above him. It seemed fitting, given where he was, even though a summer storm like this was rare in San Diego. He didn’t care that he was getting soaked or that mud was seeping through his jeans. He could barely muster the effort to stay upright.
A pale headstone lay before him, stark with only the cutting on its polished marble. LTJG Nicholas Bradshaw, loving husband, father, friend. A simple cross was carved above the epitaph.
Maverick wasn’t supposed to be alone at the cemetery today, but Carole had decided to wait to come with Bradley until the storm blew over. Maverick had agreed, sharing her concern about keeping a four-year-old Bradley out of the rain, but he had found himself here regardless.
“Talk to me, Goose,” he whispered, leaning forward to let his forehead rest against the headstone. “This last year has been so hard. It should have been me, you should be with your family, not in the ground, Goose,” he rambled, letting out the dark thoughts that had been swirling through his head over the past twelve months. “It isn’t right. It was my fault, I should be the one buried, not you.”
He had no idea how long he had been at the cemetery, just that it had started to storm as he arrived on his Kowalski, and he was completely soaked now. There were no trees nearby to provide cover, so he was completely exposed to the rain and the wind.
Eventually though, he could hear someone sloshing through the mud behind him, slowly approaching him where he sat cross-legged in the grass. He turned slightly, wiping at his eyes.
Iceman was coming towards him, holding an umbrella above his head. His face was stone-cold, though there was a tightness to his jaw that Maverick recognized as a sign that his wingman was worried.
“I thought you might be here,” Ice said quietly once he reached Maverick. He glanced at the headstone, bowing his head for a moment before looking at Maverick again. “I doubt Mother Goose would have wanted you to sit out all day in the rain.”
Maverick looked away, wiping at his eyes again. “I doubt Goose would have wanted to be here at all.”
Ice’s face softened. “No, he wouldn’t have. He would have wanted to be with his family, with you, taking care of you all. But he is here, and you still have to take care of yourself.”
Maverick looked up at him angrily. “What are you even doing here, Kazansky? Just here to lecture me?”
That tightness returned to Iceman’s face, his jaw twitching for a moment, before his expression smoothed over. He took a few steps forward and then crouched besides Maverick, his umbrella covering them both. He caught Maverick’s gaze, and not for the first time, Maverick couldn’t help but stare into his bright eyes.
“I know that there’s nothing I can say to make you feel better, Maverick,” he started carefully. “But there are people that care about you, that want to see you take care of yourself. I know you took your leave now so you could be with Carole and Bradley for today, so go be with them. It doesn’t do you or them any good for you to sit out in a storm.”
Tears welled up in Maverick’s eyes again, guilt filling him up. “It isn’t right,” he whispered to Iceman, catching his gaze for a moment before looking down. “He should be with his family. But they’re stuck with me, for whatever good I can do them.”
Iceman reached out, his hand blazing hot on Maverick’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t talk about my wingman like that,” he said lowly. “Anyone would be lucky to have him in their family.”
Maverick shook his head, and Iceman leaned forward, pulling his into a one-armed hug, keeping his other raised to keep them dry under the umbrella. Maverick clutched at him, unable to stop the sobs rising up.
“It’s all my fault, I killed him, and now he’s here and Carole's lost her husband and Bradley lost his father, and it should have been me,” he sobbed as Iceman tried to soothe him. “It isn’t fair.” They sat together for a long moment, Ice running his hand down Maverick’s back as Maverick cried.
“C’mon, Mitchell, we need to get you dried off,” he murmured as Maverick’s tears tapered off. He wrapped an arm back around Maverick’s shoulders to try and lift him off the ground.
“No,” Maverick growled, pushing away, digging his knees into the ground, mud staining his jeans a darker color.
Ice sighed. “You can’t stay out here all day, Mav. Not in a storm like this.”
Maverick stubbornly shook his head. “I’m not leaving him, not today.”
Iceman kept pestering him to leave, arguing that his dumb ass would get struck by lightning if he didn’t get sick from sitting in the rain, but he eventually gave up, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he straightened up.
“Fine then, Mav, have it your way,” he said tiredly, running a hand down his face. “Just please let me know when you get home.” He started to walk away, turning back a few times to look back, but Maverick didn't see him, focused on the headstone again, leaning against it in his vigil with his best friend.
Hours later, Maverick woke to soft hands wrapping a blanket around his shoulders, a small hand slipping into his. He looked up to see Carole sadly staring at him as Bradley climbed into his lap.
“Uncle Mav, you’re all wet!” Bradley complained, making a face at Maverick.
Maverick smoothed a hand through Bradley’s sandy hair. “Sorry buddy, I got caught in the storm sitting with your daddy.”
Bradley frowned. “That’s silly, mommy always says you’ll get sick if you go out in the rain! I don’t want you to get sick!”
“Don’t worry sweetie,” Carole said, kneeling next to them to wrap her arms around Bradley and Maverick. “We’ll take good care of him, just like he’s been taking care of us.” The three of them sat there holding each other for a long time, the white marble beside them standing out in the gloom of the stormy evening.
And later, as he sits at her kitchen table slurping on soup under her watchful eye while Bradley plays at his feet, he feels settled for the first time in weeks.
"Hey Carole," he starts as he sets his bowl down, finally finished with the soup she ordered him to eat. "Mind if I borrow your phone?"