Chapter Text
In certain professions is not uncommon to have side effects from the job, especially if your job physically demands a lot out of a person. Pete ‘Maverick” Mitchel wasn’t one of the lucky ones that avoided these side effects. A naval aviator surely does go under the category of physically demanding. These effects are more prominent with Pete being well into his 60s. It all started when Goose and he crashed into the Pacific Ocean, it was just a slight twinge in his lower back. Then those twinges started becoming his entire back then working itself to his entire back, leaving him paralyzed from the pain. But this journey of pain was not as quick as it sounds. It was long, grueling years of ejecting out of naval planes to reach this point.
Nothing drastic happened until after the Dagger squad mission… Pete Mitchel’s very last assignment…
Rooster felt the F-14 roughly meet up with the tarmac, making the museum piece bounce up and down. Rooster could not believe Maverick and him made it back in one piece, well sort of, Rooster could feel the bruises and injuries on him and he couldn’t even imagine the things that were going on with Maverick right about now. “Holy shit, Mav, we made it!” He exclaimed breathlessly, he heard Maverick give an airy chuckle to his comment. Once the plane came to a stop, people started crowding around it, someone removed the canopy from above their heads. Rooster was the first to stand up and jump out of it. Being met by Pheonix and Bob at the wing of the plane, he laughed as the two aviators bear-hugged him.
After a few seconds of enjoying the cheers of the people around him and the security of Bob’s and Pheonix’s hug, he looked around for Maverick. But Rooster was met with no Maverick, he looked up into the plane and saw Maverick and Hondo. “Maverick?” Rooster asked cautiously.
Hondo was holding Maverick’s head in between his hands. “Maverick, can you hear me? What hurts?” Hondo said urgently, Maverick’s eyes fluttered shut and then open and then closed again. “We need a medic!” Hondo shouted into the crowd, this made Rooster’s heart feel like it was about to burst through his chest. ‘What happened?’ He thought, Phoenix gracefully grabbed onto Rooster, making him back up and away from the plane. “Is it your back? Hondo asked with a quiver in his voice, Maverick quickly answered that question by tightening his jaw while stifling a groan of pain. The medic that was called earlier finally showed up, joining Hondo at the edge of where Maverick was sitting. With the medic arriving, the cheers died down and tense whispers filled the atmosphere.
Cyclone and Warlock hastily joined the group on the tarmac, wanting a closer look at what was happening. “I’ll call the admiral,” Warlock gravely said, he turned away from Maverick and swiftly made his way back up into the place he was previously at.
With the help of a couple of other medics and Hondo, Maverick was put into a neck brace and as carefully as possible put onto a backboard. “Ok, lift him out on 3.” One medic said, “One…Two…Three!” They lifted Maverick out and placed him on a backboard, making Maverick start screaming and seizing with sheer pain. Hondo didn’t even bother holding back when he cringed, seeing how helpless Maverick had become. “Mav!” Rooster tried to run to his father figure but was stopped by the hands of Phenoix and Bob, and he was pretty sure Hangman also joined in restraining him. “Rooster, calm down, they're helping him, you can’t help him right now,” Phoenix said, Rooster knew this statement was true but he still thrashed to try and escape his friend's grasp. The medics placed the backboard onto a gurney nearby and sprinted towards where the med bay was located. The aviators stood there on the runway, still hearing the screams of their teacher and mentor.
.oOo.
Ice was enjoying a cup of tea in his office, trying to finish up a couple more things of paperwork before he called it quits for the night. But, since he was the COMPACFLT of course his phone had to start going crazy. Ice gave a low grumble before he answered it, seeing how it was Warlock. ‘This should be good.’ Ice thought to himself. “Admiral Kazansky speaking.” He said in a gravely tone, his voice was definitely getting more robust but still held a deep rasp to it. “Sir, I realize it’s late and you should be done for the day, but…” Warlock paused for a moment, “It’s Captain Mitchell, sir. Leutienit Bradshaw and him got shot down on enemy territory. Maverick stole an old F-14 and fellow Lt. Bradshaw and himself back to the ship. Lt. Bradshaw sustained minor injuries, but Maverick was not so lucky.” Warlock took a moment to pause, making Ice actually fully comprehend what he just heard. Maverick and Rooster were shot down? They saved their asses by riding in an old F-14 Tomcat, of course, that had Maverick written all over it. But Maverick, seriously injured? Impossible. The man was a fucking cat, with probably 12 lives, injuries were always just little scrapes and bruises. God, when Ice got his hands on his husband after all of this poor Maverick will be short another year or so.
Warlock continued, “I’m informing you of this because I am well aware of you two being close, you being the Commander of the Pacific Fleet, and the fact you are listed as his emergency contact. Details of Maverick’s injuries are unknown, but from what I saw they were extensive, especially his back. Admiral Kazansky, I’m not one to sugarcoat something, especially this but this could have been his last mission, he was not looking good at all when medics wheeled him out. Lt. Bradley is obviously shaken up, I would recommend flying here so you can make some medical decisions for Maverick. It is too dangerous to MEDVAC him since his spine is all sorts of messed up.” Warlock finished up what he had to say, waiting for Ice to respond.
“Thank you, Rear Admiral Bates. I will be there as soon as a plane is ready. I leave Lt. Bradshaw under your care until I am present. Understood?” He stated with his ice-cold Admiral voice, he heard Warlock give an affirmative and then hung up. Ice not-so-gently placed his phone on the desk, letting out a deep sigh, he got up from his chair. Leaving his tea, forgotten. He walked out of the office and ventured out to find Sarah, his sister, to convey the information he was just given. He felt weak in his knees as he told the details that he was given about Maverick to his sister. His hand shook as he tried to get transportation to the carrier. He needed to see Maverick quickly, and soon.
.oOo.
Sometime between Maverick being rushed into the med bay and Hangman holding him in his arms he either blanked or passed out. Because when he opened his eyes, he was in what he thought was the med bay. Nurses and doctors busied themselves around the lobby while Rooster, Hangman, and Bob sat in uncomfortable chairs. “Well, rise and shine sleeping beauty,” Hangman said in a jokingly banner that shriveled up in an instant. Before Rooster could reply, Phoenix walked in through the double doors that Rooster was just now realizing were there. “I just got word that Admiral Kazanskty has been notified and is coming here in a helicopter. He should be here in the next couple of hours.” Phoenix said as she gracefully plopped herself next to Bob, with an exhausted sigh. Bob, giving the slightest of a supporting smile, patted Phornix’s thigh a couple of times before his hands joined together again in his lap.
After everyone finished giving Pheonix their attention all three of the aviators sprung their eyes to Rooster. “How are you feelin’ Roo? Gave us quite a scare, nearly toppled my ass over.” Pheonix said. With that statement, Rooster came to the conclusion he must have blacked out after Maverick was whisked away. “Heh, sorry about that. I’ve seen better days but I just hope Maverick is ok, but right now I’m doing pretty good, considering.” He said honestly, without looking up he could Feel Hangamn’s worried eyes boring holes into the side of his head. Roster looked over at Hangman, “I’m ok, I am sorta hungry though.” Rooster said with a ghost of a smile. “I’ll go get you something.” Hangman volunteered, he got up from his seat and silently marched off through those double doors.
2 or so hours ticked by, and Rooster started getting antsy after like 45 minutes of waiting. So, sitting in that waiting room slash lobby, was pure torture for the kid. Hangman came back after 20 minutes, with some pop and hand and cheese sandwiches for all of them. Rooster, surprisingly, finished the entire sandwich. Getting shot down, saving his godfather, and then stealing a plane really gave you the munchies. Rooster sat there with his head resting on his fisted hand, thinking about the last 24 hours, until his cloud of thoughts was blown out of the forefront of his mind. Since none other than Admiral Kazansky stormed into the room, making everyone jump out of their seats and into the saluting position like their life depended on it.
“Sir!” They all shouted in unison, Ice didn’t even bother giving the young aviators his time and marched himself right up to the front desk. “Captain Pete Mitchell was brought here almost three hours ago. Do you have an update yet?” He didn’t mean for it to happen but his icy tone made a reappearance. “And you are, sir?” A young nurse said without looking up from the paperwork she was completing.
Ice gave a look that said “did-you-really-just-say-that-to-the-Comander-of-the-Pacific-Fleet?” Which sent chills down the four aviators, knowing what kind of place that nurse just put herself in. Ice gave a low grumble that made the poor nurse glance up. It was like she just saw Jesus himself and was personally escorted to the gates of Heaven. She stumbled with her paperwork as she accidentally jumbled it up, “I- uh- I’m so sorry, sir. I- I will get information as soon as I can.” She said as she fumbled with the phone and typed, what could only be guessed as Maverick's name. Ice gave a curt nod to the poor nurse and turned around to face the Top Gun graduates. “You’re at ease, lieutenants.” He said. Ice sat down in the last plastic chair that was placed not-so-conveniently placed next to Rooster. Rooster tried to make himself as small as possible, gluing himself to the side of Hangman. While Ice sat there with his cold-as-ice expression, there was no doubt about where his call sign came from. The minute you set eyes on the admiral you knew who was the boss. That’s where the five Navy aviators sat for another hour or so, waiting for the news of someone they deeply cared for. News that could be life-changing, life-altering.
(credit to @iji_1228 on twitter, found on pintrest)