Chapter Text
Rooster had never been more relieved to land his jet on the runway. His entire body ached and his throat was on fire. He had still managed to complete Maverick’s metaphorical obstacle course and had even done so faster than Hangman, though Phoenix had taken the first spot. That was fine by Rooster; all he wanted to do now was go home and bury under the covers for the conceivable future.
Rooster popped the canopy up and stood, surprised at how momentarily dizzy that he was. He managed to catch himself before he fell, though jumping down proved to be a struggle as he landed and instinctively reached forward to use the jet to steady himself on his feet.
‘What the fuck,’ Rooster thought as he swallowed thickly, pain radiating down his neck.
“Hey, Rooster!” Rooster spun around to see Hangman coming over. He stood rigid as Hangman socked his shoulder good naturally. “I’ll beat you next time. Don’t think that just because you got lucky that I was stuck behind Coyote that you’re the best at this.”
“Wa—sn’t the pl—n.”
Hangman fixed him with a confused look. “What?”
Rooster opened his mouth to speak only to double over coughing, a hand raised to his mouth to cover so that he didn’t cough on Hangman.
“Dude, you okay?” Hangman instinctively went behind him and patted on his back, unsure if it was really helping or not, but this is what people in movies did when someone was coughing like that.
Rooster gave him a weak thumbs up as he continued coughing, the crook of his arm substituting his fist for better cover.
“Hey, Mav,” Hangman called over his shoulder, alerting the rest of the class to Rooster’s struggle. “Maverick!”
Maverick rose to his feet from where he had crouched beside his jet to check the wheels. He was halfway across the tarmac in no time flat upon hearing the fear in Hangman’s voice. His pace only quickened when he saw Rooster struggling, doubled over with Hangman still feebly trying to rub his back.
“Roo?” Maverick ground to a halt as he came up beside Rooster. He wrapped an arm around his waist and urged him to stand up straight. The coughing tampered down, though it didn’t stop entirely.
Maverick rested a hand on Rooster’s forehead before migrating to his cheeks and the back of his neck. “You’re warm.”
“Al-wys r-u-u-un h—t.”
“And your voice is almost completely shot.” Maverick frowned deeply before looping his arm around Rooster’s and tugged him forward. “Hangman, tell the class that we’re done for today. I’m going to take Rooster to the infirmary.”
Hangman nodded as he watched them go, Maverick trying to help keep Rooster upright while Rooster did everything in his power not to lean on Maverick.
“Why didn’t you tell me you felt this sick before our exercise,” Maverick chided, though there was no real anger behind his voice.
“Dn’t f—l that b-b—d.” Rooster winced and began to cough again, each exhausted ache sending daggers raking down his throat and making it impossible to focus on anything else.
Maverick quieted him easily and shook his head gravely. Rooster was just like his father alright: stubborn, determined, and sometimes foolish when it came to his own health.
“You should never fly unless you’re feeling 100%. You’re putting your life and the lives of your squadron in danger when you do this like this.” Maverick couldn’t help but give a violent shudder. “Trust me.”
Rooster didn’t question Maverick further. Instead he focused on putting one foot in front of the other while ignoring the pain in his throat. He could feel phlegm rising in the back of his throat, but he didn’t dare cough and risk setting off a chain reaction. That was something he had been struggling with for a couple days now, but it had only gotten worse when he woke up that morning.
The two headed down the base until they made it to the infirmary. Rooster was half expecting Maverick to drop him off there and tell him to go home and get some rest when he was done, but to his surprise, Maverick walked right in after him, not leaving his side even when Rooster tried to pull away.
A nurse greeted them and pointed to the nearest bed. “Take a seat and we’ll be right with you.”
Maverick dipped his head and nudged Rooster forward, who was struggling with another coughing fit that he was directing into his raised shoulder. His body shuddered with each hack, the pain that washed over him difficult to tolerate.
Rooster was too busy coughing that he didn’t realize that Maverick had left his side. He came back a moment later with a bottle of water and handed it over.
Water wasn’t exactly Rooster’s favorite thing to drink when sick as it only served to aggravate his throat further. However, Maverick had gone through the trouble to get it for him, and he was certain that Maverick wasn’t about to let him do anything else until he drank at least some of it.
Rooster swiped the bottle from Maverick and downed a quarter of it until he could no longer tolerate it on his throat. He set it aside and rubbed a hand upwards against his nose, sniffling.
Maverick was on his feet once more, seeming to scouring the entire infirmary before coming back with a box of tissues. They were the thin and scratchy ones that felt more like sandpaper than tissues, but they were better than nothing.
Rooster reluctantly took a handful and brought them to his nose to blow. He paused briefly as he brought them down, a small tickle turning into a furious itch in no time flat. His head tipped back, mouth slightly open as he wanted for the feeling to manifest itself. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Hish’huu! Hisch’huu! Hicsh’huu!” Rooster gave a brief pause and squinted up at the overhead light, the itch still plaguing him.
Meanwhile, Maverick switched out his handful of tissues for clean ones. Rooster was about to thank him only to duck back down, entire body jackknifing forward.
“Hish’huu! ‘Hiscsh’Huu!”
“Bless you,” Maverick offered as Rooster blew his nose, grimacing at how it aggravated his throat and sinuses.
Rooster threw the tissues away, still sniffling. “Th—nks.” He swallowed hard, brow furrowed.
The two didn’t have to wait long until an older doctor walked over, lab coat stark white against his naval uniform. “Name?”
“Bradshaw,” Maverick answered for him. Rooster shot him a look while the doctor looked on in confusion. “He’s lost his voice. It’s painful for him to talk.”
The doctor hummed to himself as he came over in front of Rooster and lifted both hands to his neck. He pressed on his lymph nodes, then the front. Rooster winced and pulled away despite his best attempts to stay still, a panicked look crossing his face.
“Hmmmm.” The doctor lifted a pen light from his pocket. “Open your mouth as wide as you can. I need to get a look at your throat.”
Rooster reluctantly did as the doctor ordered, mouth open and tongue stretched out so that he could get a better look at his throat. He was well aware of Maverick stealing a glance as well, and the look that passed over the older man’s face was enough to have Rooster shivering.
The doctor turned off his penlight and grabbed the intake form on a clipboard that he had brought. “I’ll have one of the nurses do a strep test, but based on the swollen tonsils and those whiteish patches, I’m willing to bet anything that it’s strep.”
“Is that serious,” Maverick questioned.
The doctor shook his head. “No, not for someone as young and healthy as him. It’ll clear up in a week or so with a course of antibiotics, but make sure you take all of them.”
Rooster looked at the doctor with congestion induced confusion, mouth gaping open in an attempt to breathe.
Maverick was quick to nod to the doctor. “I’ll make sure that he does.”
The doctor looked curiously from Rooster to Maverick, clearly trying to figure out their relationship. He gave up rather quickly and closed the chart on the clipboard. “Hang tight for that test and the prescription and then you can be on your way. I’m excusing you from duty until you have been fever free for 24 hours and no longer are contagious.”
Rooster wasn’t quite sure what the second part meant, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead he was forced to grab another handful of tissues and press them against the lower half of his face. “Hish’huu!” Rooster’s eyes widened in pain as he fought another, tongue pressing desperately against the roof of his mouth and eyes blinking rapidly. “Hish’Shuu! Hish’huu! Hitcsh’Shuu!”
“Bless you,” Maverick offered as he reached out a hand and grasped his shoulder, giving it a few reassuring squeezes. He watched the way that Rooster blinked his watery eyes and frowned. “That hurt?”
Rooster shot him a sideways glance. “Dno.”
Maverick didn’t call him out on it, mostly because Rooster was lifting the tissues to his face once again. “Hish’Shuu! Hish’huu! Hisch’Shuu!” Rooster coughed to clear his throat before blowing his nose nearly a dozen times with numerous rounds of tissues before he could even think of breathing through his nose again. “Fuck.”
“Hope whatever this is doesn’t turn into a sinus infection with the way you’re sneezing like that,” Maverick commented, eyes narrowed.
Rooster shivered as he remembered his last sinus infection. He had foolishly still pushed through it and had even flown with it, which was a mistake he would absolutely never make again as that had been one of the most painful things he had ever experienced. The way that his sinuses had swelled and the pressure in his head had reached a peak had forced Rooster to land and be on bed rest for a week, crying into his pillow and begging for relief. It was horrible and something that Rooster never ever wanted to repeat.
Maverick nudged Rooster as a nurse came over with a long swab.
Horror stretched across Rooster’s face as he tried to leap to his feet, only for Maverick to intercept him and place his open palms on his shoulders to force him back down. “Relax,” Maverick whispered. “It’ll be over in a few second.”
“It may be a little painful, but I need a sample,” the nurse explained, her voice soft and compassionate.
Rooster looked pleadingly up to Maverick, mouth opening though no sound came out.
“You heard her. Just a couple seconds.”
Although still clearly reluctant, Rooster knew a loosing battle when he saw one. His head bowed as he reluctantly opened his mouth while his heart beat madly in his chest. His fingers curled around the edge of the bed until his nail nearly split through the padded sides. Maverick stayed by his side with a hand on his shoulder, willing the same calmness that he felt to translate to Rooster.
Rooster took in a trembling breath as the nurse inserted the swab and scraped the back of his throat.
Almost immediately Rooster began to gag, fearful that he was about to throw up. He ripped his head to the side as the nurse removed the swab. Rooster began to cough, both hands coming up to cup over his face to block the nurse from his coughs.
“I’ll have the results in a couple minutes. Until then.....” The nurse lifted a mask that she held in her opposite hand and handed it over to Maverick. “Have him wear this. Strep is extremely contagious and we don’t want it to be catching.”
Maverick wanted to point out that Rooster had been around dozens of people so far that day, but he refrained. He merely nodded and handed the mask to Rooster when he finally stopped coughing.
Rooster placed it on and adjusted it behind his ears before looking up to Maverick. “Hur—ts.”
“I can tell. I thought you were about to jump off the table.” Maverick couldn’t help but laugh as he nudged Rooster lightly. “Strep isn’t too terrible. I bet your throat hurts a lot right now.”
Rooster nodded slowly, still sniffling.
Maverick frowned at how pathetic Rooster looked. With the mask on he seemed so much younger, with haunted eyes and exhausted limbs. He didn’t look like one of the best aviators the Navy had to offer; he looked like a scared kid that didn’t feel well and needed some comfort.
Despite knowing that there were probably people looking, Maverick couldn’t stop himself from sitting down beside Rooster and wrapping his arms around Rooster’s middle and pulled him closer.
Rooster momentarily fought him until he realized that it was Maverick that was trying to move him.
“C’mere, kiddo. You’re shaking.”
Rooster let out a soft cough inside the mask before finding himself automatically tipping over to rest his head on Maverick’s shoulder. Although he hadn’t done this in decades, it somehow felt familiar. The feel of Maverick’s breathing mixed with the low rumble of his voice was enough to soothe Rooster in ways that neither of them could fully comprehend. Maverick had been and always would be his safe place, no matter what was going on. Maverick had raised him, and despite their rocky past, Rooster was doing everything in his power to try and make up for lost time.
“That’s it,” Maverick praised with his head bowed, speaking so softly that no one else would be able to hear. “You’re safe, Baby Goose. I promise I’m going to take good care of you until you feel better. You’re not going to be alone.”
Another congested filled cough had Rooster shaking, nearly gasping for breath. Maverick held him steady through all of it, strength never waning.
Rooster tried to mumble something, but Maverick didn’t quite hear.
“What was that?”
“I—ce.”
Maverick tipped his head. “What was that?”
“Wa—nt Ic—man.”
Despite the broken quality to his speech, Maverick would recognize that name anywhere, even with some parts in the middle missing. A fresh wave of grief washed over him as he felt his stomach churn.
“Ice isn’t here anymore, little one. Remember?” Maverick found his throat growing thick with emotion, so much so that he completely forgotten about the nickname of what he used to call Rooster when he was still small. He hadn’t called him that in decades, yet with Rooster being so sick and out of it, things just felt right. Maverick doubted that Rooster would call him on it, and it may even bring him enough comfort in the moment to help him relax.
“I—ce.” Rooster let out a fierce cough, face screwed up in discomfort.
Maverick lifted a hand to rub at his chest, relieved when Rooster’s muscles released the tension they had been holding. “I miss him to0.”
“Wa—sn’t....t-t—here. I wa—sn’t.”
It took Maverick a moment to realize what Rooster was saying, and once he did, a newfound pain worked its way through him. There was nothing he could do to take that pain from Rooster, no matter how much he wanted to.
The two didn’t have to wait long for the nurse to arrive back with a pamphlet and the antibiotics the doctor had prescribed. “Strep came back positive, I’m afraid. Make sure he drinks plenty of fluids and try to help him cough up the mucus in his lungs instead of swallowing it. It may bring on a very high fever, but the pamphlet gives you numerous ways to lower it.” She handed the paper and blister pack of antibiotics over to Maverick before nodding to the still fever induced confused Rooster patiently.
“Thanks for everything.” Maverick then turned his full attention back to Rooster. “Now let’s get you home.”