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Living in sweltering Fightertown, USA meant that the only solution to not drowning in your own sweat after a hop was to take the most freezing shower ever. Maverick used to enjoy those three minutes of cold relief, falling into a state of calm limbo even with Wolfman’s raucous laughter echoing through the locker-room most likely from an absolutely horrible joke from Slider.
Those moments sat peacefully in his memories all up until the 29th of July 1986 when Hop 31 happened.
Everything started off normally: Kazansky getting on Mav’s nerves as usual, Goose confirming sighting of Jester and Viper and Slider echoing that information to Ice and both pilots engage. What ticked Maverick and Goose off was Ice’s hesitation in taking the shot, constantly saying he just needs a couple more seconds then he’s got it. Mav groaned, he’s had just enough of this bullshit.
“Ice, Jesus Christ I can take the shot from right here. Come off high right I’ve got the shot.”, Mav snapped over the comms.
“Ten more seconds then I’ve got it.”
“Come on Ice, take the shot!” Goose says as well, irritation colouring his voice.
“Shit! I’m off, dammit.” Ice says, then suddenly breaks off like Mav told him to, unbeknownst to Maverick flying straight through his jet wash. It’s Slider that tells Ice to look out to where Maverick’s plane is starting to shake violently and then spin in the air.
It’s then that the other duo’s panicked voices crackle over the radio, the pure fear and panic that he’s never heard in Maverick’s voice causes Ice’s stomach to drop. It’s Goose’s voice that Ice and Slider hear first.
“Altitude eight thousand, seven thousand!”
“Goose-!” Maverick cries out his RIO’s name, his voice cutting out with a sob.
“Six, we’re at six Mav!”
“Shit Goose I’m pinned forward! I can’t reach the ejection handles!”
“This is not good, this ain’t good Mav!” Goose cries out too, his voice strained from being thrown around in his seat in the flat spin.
“Mayday, Mayday. Mav’s in trouble he’s in a flat spin, heading out to sea.” Ice says in as calm a voice he can muster. It’s like he’s just up there to watch this tragedy unfold, helpless to do anything.
“Goose you’re gonna have to punch us out! I can’t reach the handles.” Mav says, flailing his arms back uselessly to try reach the ejection handles above his seat.
“Eject! Eject! Eject! Watch the canopy!”
Is the last thing Ice and Slider hear before the bang of the canopy blasting away is heard and what sounds like a sickening crack before it’s radio silence from Maverick.
•••
Maverick is jolted awake by the sudden plunge of landing harshly in the freezing ocean water, much colder than any shower he’s ever taken, and hurries to inflate his little single man raft just as he notices the red of Goose’s helmet sinking beneath the waves. “Goose! Goose, oh God, oh no.” he sobs, grabbing hold of his friend’s harness straps and dragging his soaked body up onto his own. Goose doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move or react in any way at all and dread swallows Maverick whole. “No, no no please…Nick please…” Mav clings to his body, the luminous green of the marker dye slowly ebbing into the water, just like the blood running down Goose’s face. Maverick just shoves his face into the crook of Goose’s neck, his own tears mixing into the salt water soaking through the both of them. “Oh God…oh God no.” he says weakly before he blacks out.
It’s the sound of helicopter blades that wakes Maverick, he has no idea how long he’s been floating in the ocean but he shakily shields his face with the hand still holding onto Goose’s cracked helmet. A Coast Guard diver swims up to him, saying something about having to let Goose go, Maverick reluctantly lets go of his body, his mind still in a daze and his head feeling like it’s not quite attached to his numb body. He doesn’t register being lifted out of the water and sat inside the helicopter, he doesn’t register being rushed into the on-base hospital and the flurry of nurses, doctors and corpsmen around him.
“G-Goose…” he whispers, his tongue feeling like lead in his dry mouth. A nurse closest to him just gently touches his shoulder with a look of sympathy in her eyes before Maverick is quickly undressed from his flight suit and dressed again in one of those flimsy hospital gowns. He barely sees a familiar head of blonde frosted-tips appearing in the doorway before he’s out like a light again.
•••
Maverick wakes up hours later alone. It’s dark outside by now, he has no idea what time it is. He sits up slowly, his bruised body screaming in protest at the movement but he pushes through it. He needs to find Goose, needs to see him, touch him. Mav stumbles his way out of the room and instantly regrets it by the brightness of the hallway lights stinging his eyes, a corpsman is quickly by his side trying to get Maverick back into that stiff bed. “No…no Goose, I need to, I need to find him please…please!” he pleads, tears welling in his eyes as he tries to blink them away. The corpsman sighs softly then, “I’m sorry Lieutenant…he didn’t make it.”
“He’s dead, sir. I’m really sorry.”
Maverick’s knees give out from under him as his world shatters and breaks around him. He just stares at the tiles in front of him, tears falling off his chin, splattering onto the tiles and soaking into the gown. His chest feels too tight, he can’t remember how to breathe, the world is off-kilter.
He knows he’s dry and warm and on solid ground, but all he can feel is freezing cold water, being rocked by waves and the weight of Goose on top of him. “Nick…” he chokes out, chest burning from his lack of breathing. He’s suddenly gently lifted off the floor and placed back onto the bed. Mav looks up to see it was Hollywood and Wolfman that are in the room with him, their eyes red-rimmed as well. “Mav…it’ll be okay, just rest. We’ll be here when you wake up again.” Hollywood says softly. “Promise.” Wolf finishes for the two of them. Maverick nods slowly, the motion definitely upsetting his mild concussion he has and lies back down, looking even smaller in the stupid gown and the hospital bed.
Like promised, Hollywood and Wolfman are there when Mav wakes up again, however the rest of his class is also crammed into the tiny room too. Maverick could cry at the sight but he just laughs wetly, too tired to cry anymore. Sundown and Chipper smile at him, ‘Wood and Wolf look relieved and Ice and Slider’s expressions are unreadable.
Maverick is discharged in the morning, told to be cautious with that concussion and take it easy on the painkillers, otherwise he was good to go. He’s now in their locker room, hunched over a sink and freshly shaven standing in nothing but his white boxers when Viper walks in fully dressed in his dress whites. The Commander silently moves to stand behind Maverick, and sucks in a breath before he speaks.
“Goose is dead.”
“I know…” Maverick replies flatly, splashing more water on his face before he slowly lifts his gaze to meet Viper’s in the mirror. “Fly jets long enough something like this happens. But you gotta let him go, there will be others,” the older man says, lightly placing a hand between Maverick’s shoulder blades as he exits the room, “You gotta let him go…”
•••
Maverick used to enjoy cold showers.
Now he can only shower if the water is scalding enough to burn his skin. He can’t go near the beach or any open water. He can’t stand to see the colour of luminous green anymore.
Everything reminds him of Goose; the clicking of pens remind him of the sound of Nick’s neck snapping as he’s ejected straight into the canopy, and the shock of the coldness of the ocean water seeping into his bones.
The Maverick everyone knew died in that ocean that morning too, died alongside Goose. Cold, scared and alone.