Work Text:
The Daggers got off the transport plane and grabbed their bags, waving goodbye and thanks to the pilots who had dropped them back in San Diego. Rooster hefted his duffel bag over his shoulder, eyes on his phone. As he started typing a text he bumped into someone in front of him and glanced up, an apology on the tip of his tongue.
“Oh crap, I’m sorry- hey, Mav.”
“Hey kid. When are you heading back to Virginia Beach?” Maverick asked, falling into step with his godson. Bradley was still Bradley, despite the fifteen years they hadn’t spoken he was still the same guy. Rooster shrugged, glancing at his phone.
“Uh, tomorrow morning I think. I’m gonna look over the Bronco but then I’ll start the drive.”
“Oh, okay. Uh, do you think we could... talk?”
Rooster glanced at his watch.
“Mav, I’m tired, okay? I’m tired, I want to sleep for a million years and then go home.”
He could see the way the hurt flashed in his eyes, but Maverick nodded.
“I understand. Let me know, we’ll find time.”
“When’s your next deployment?” Rooster asked. Maverick’s gaze suddenly flickered to his boots.
“Cyclone told me last night; I’m done for good this time. No more Ice saving my ass.”
“Fuck the brass. You still want to fly? Fuckin’ fly.”
“That’s the problem with being in the Navy, Bradley; when they say you’re done, and there’s no one in your corner anymore? You’re done.”
“Wait, Mav- Mav. Stop.”
When Maverick moved forward to walk away from the conversation again, Bradley curled his fingers around his forearm.
“I’m in your corner.”
His aviators slipped down a little, which made Maverick think of Goose. The way Bradley moved, the way he caught the attention of a room with a piano and a charming smile, that was Goose. His even temperament, the way he interacted with others, that was Carole. Finally, Maverick patted his cheek.
“I know, kid. I know that.”
Rooster cleared his throat.
“I gotta- I’ll call you, okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Rooster passed over his phone and Maverick entered his number into the device, keeping to himself that he still had Bradley’s saved. He knew it hadn’t changed, because the calls still went through and his voicemail introduced as Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw of the United States Navy. It made him a little hopeful.
“I’ll see you, Mav.”
Rooster hefted his pack over his shoulder, and Maverick watched the man walk away.
-
That night, warm and on dry land, Maverick reached into the pack he took with him on every deployment and found the photo album he kept in there, tiny enough it would fit in the internal compartment and no one would ever question it. Flipping through it he found Goose and Carole smiling back at him, followed by Baby Bradley. He grew up as Maverick flicked through the images, from an infant with two smiling parents, a toddler on Carole’s hip, a child standing beside his mom with a big, toothless grin, then into a teenager where he frowned more than he smiled. Maverick slammed the album shut. He didn’t want to think about after that.
The last photo he had, coincidentally, was the night Carole died. Bradley had passed out curled up in bed next to her.
Maverick wondered if he should have been stronger that night, made Bradley sleep in his own bed so he wouldn’t wake in the night to the devastation. He could still see it like it was yesterday, could still remember curling his fingers into Bradley’s shirt and dragging him off the bed when he realised what had happened.
She was supposed to have another couple of months.
-
Dee glanced out the front window, frowning as she glanced down at her phone. She knew her husband was on his way home, he’d decided to pull an all nighter on the final stretch because he was desperate to get home, but it was getting late and the kids were ready for bed an hour ago. She glanced over at her daughters, playing dolls on the carpet in front of the coffee table, and then down at her son in her arms, passed out against her shoulder. He slept like her husband, down to the little nose crinkle he did when he was having a good dream. Dee smiled, brushing a curl from his little face, enjoying the quiet she knew would become chaos when her husband came home. Their house was always a little chaotic, always busy with activities, school and work, but having the second parent in the house made it just that little more manageable. Headlights flooded the dimly lit living area and her middle child gasped, tossing her dolls down.
“Dad’s home!” She gasped, bolting for the front door. Her eldest glanced at Dee for reassurance, and Dee brushed a hand down her back when she walked past.
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
That seemed to be enough. As Dee carefully got off the couch her eldest ran for the front door too, and she heard the squealing laughter of the girls reuniting with their father. Dee checked her son was still sleeping and rounded the corner. Immediately she broke into a smile.
“Bradley.”
With both girls hanging off him, Bradley looked like he’d found home. Carefully putting them both on the ground, he stepped into the hug Dee was ready for, burying her face against his shoulder.
“Honey, I’m home,” Bradley whispered into her hair, and she snorted as she patted his back. He’d been making that joke as long as she could remember, and she hoped she didn’t have to find a day where he didn’t.
-
They’d been doing this for just over fifteen years yet it still felt like he was coming home for the first time all over again. To her surprise, Dee felt Bradley sniff against her and pulled away from their hug, giving him a kiss and then chasing until she could make eye contact.
“You okay?” She asked quietly, brushing a hand down his arm. Bradley nodded, swiping at his eyes.
“I’m great,” he replied honestly. She took it at face value, turning to the girls.
“Guess who’s doing bedtime tonight!”
The girls both burst into giggles, running down the hallway to brush their teeth. They knew the drill; they got to stay up and wait for daddy, then they had to go to bed, no arguments. He’d be there in the morning.
It also gave Dee and Bradley some time to catch up. Right then, he was reaching for their son.
“God, he got so big already,” Bradley whispered, cradling him to his shoulder. Their youngest snuggled into his dad but didn’t stir, and Dee smiled at the way Bradley gently hushed him. For someone who grew up without younger siblings, he was a natural parent.
“You want a beer?” She asked, following him down the hallway to their son’s bedroom. Bradley shook his head, carefully placing him in his crib.
“I’m wiped.”
He didn’t apologise for breaking tradition, and Dee didn’t ask him to; she had a feeling this detachment had been rough on him. He hadn’t been able to be in contact often during training but when he had, he’d sounded tired and he’d sounded angry. It worried her; usually he bounced in the front door, got the girls to bed and then treated her like a princess between the sheets until they were both sated and sweaty.
“Have you got laundry?” Dee asked as they quietly snuck out of their son’s room. Bradley shook his head, pulling her into his arms. They stayed still in the hallway for a moment, looking at each other, then Bradley’s eyes darkened.
“I’m really glad I get to come home to you, baby.”
“I love you.”
They didn’t say it often, but that made it even more special. As she reached up to wrap her arms around his shoulders, Bradley’s snuck around her waist and she could feel the way his frame deflated against hers.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Roos?” Dee insisted, frowning. He was definitely physically affectionate, but he wasn’t usually like this.
“I’m okay, Dee. Go do your million step skincare routine, I’ll put the girls to bed and be right up.”
Dee frowned, looking over her husband again. Eventually, she chose not to push it and kissed him.
“One story; don’t let them bribe you.”
“Two stories, gotcha.”
Bradley winked and Dee snorted at her husband.
She didn’t want him any other way.
-
A couple of days went by and Dee could see something was going on with Bradley. Deployments were rough; he often came back with a new mark on his body to show for it. This time she was more concerned about the fact that he wasn’t eating, or sleeping, and sometimes she thought she felt him crying in the night. Dee was all too familiar with PTSD and it’s complicated symptoms, had been to so many seminars about it over the years, but Bradley had never shown symptoms. They’d always been a very... physical couple, searching for a moment in their busy schedules so they could tangle between the sheets. When she brought it up he hesitated, gently turned her down, ate her out then said he was tired so she couldn’t return the favour. At one point he’d been in the shower and she’d asked if he was okay with her joining; he’d just about crawled out the window and that was a real confidence booster there, Bradley Bradshaw. Every now and then in the middle of the night Bradley would roll over and reach for her, burying in against her. Every time, she rubbed circles into his back, or his shoulders, or made a joke just to see if he was awake enough to talk.
It all came to a head a week after Bradley came home. Dee woke because the bed was cold beside her. For a Navy wife, she’d never adjusted to the other side of the bed being cold and she’d stirred, grimacing at the time blaring back at her on Bradley’s alarm clock.
“Fuck,” she hissed, pulling the sheets back. Her first glance was to their ensuite, making sure he wasn’t just in the bathroom. The door was closed and the light off, so she reached for her pyjama pants and a hoodie. Coming down the stairs she found the range light on in the kitchen and rounded the corner, rubbing at her eyes.
“B? It’s ass o’clock, babe.”
He was sitting at their island counter, a mug of something by his side, but he was more focused on a photo album he had open. Dee carefully approached.
“Bradley?”
“Think I’m still on Navy time, honey,” he murmured, eyes down. Dee frowned, crossing her arms.
“Something’s wrong.”
“Everything’s fine-“
“-don’t pull that bullshit with me, Bradley. We’ve done this before, don’t shut me out. You can’t just hang up on me.”
Bradley stayed quiet, eyes focused on the album. Dee sighed, stepping up to him. Before he could close it, she reached for the album.
“Your parents always seem so happy in photos,” she murmured, flicking through the pages. Bradley hummed.
“They were. I don’t... remember a lot, y’know, about my dad, but my uncle always says he was fun. He and my mom adored each other, couldn’t get enough.”
He chuckled darkly, swiping a tear off his face that Dee never would have spotted if he hadn’t moved for it.
“The doctors always say the cancer killed her, but I always thought dad being killed fast tracked it.”
Dee rubbed her thumb over the back of Bradley’s neck, leaning into his side when he opened his arms for her.
“Is that your uncle?” She asked, gesturing to a photo of a man who was shorter, with dark hair. Bradley sucked in a breath.
“Yeah, that’s him,” he murmured, “his name is Captain Pete Mitchell, callsign Maverick.”
“You don’t talk about him a lot; he took you in when your mom died, right?” Dee asked, pressing a kiss to Bradley’s cheek as she kept flicking through photos. Bradley hummed.
“He... he was on the deployment.”
Dee turned to her husband, eyes wide.
“Wait... this deployment?”
“Yeah. He was the mission leader, and I-“
Bradley stopped short, then swallowed. Dee glanced at him.
“When was the last time you spoke to him?”
“Nearly seventeen years ago,” he whispered. Finally, he closed the book and sniffed, turning away from Dee. Feeling him closing off, Dee caught his jaw and reached in to press a kiss to his lips.
“I think we should talk about this,” she murmured. To her surprise, Bradley nodded.
“Yeah, me too.”
-
Curled up on the couch, a cup of tea in her hand, Dee scrubbed at her face.
“Okay, so. Maverick adopted you when you were- what, 15?”
“Yeah. My mom... right at the end, she must have called him, I don’t know the whole story, all I know is that I woke up in the middle of the night and he was pulling me off my mom’s bed, telling me that there was an ambulance coming. It was- it was too late.”
Dee’s eyes fell, and she swallowed.
“So, after your mom died... Pete was your primary guardian?”
“When he wasn’t getting his ass sent to desolate countries no one can pronounce, he was at home. With me,” Bradley replied. He reached over, squeezing Dee’s hand.
“It’s... a lot, I don’t want to overwhelm you-“
“-no. We’re talking about this.”
Bradley sighed, sitting back against the cushions.
“I’d applied for the Naval Academy, my grades were exactly where they needed to be, and I was ready to make my life mean something. A couple weeks went by, and when I didn’t hear anything, I started to have doubts. I called them, and- and it turns out someone had formally withdrawn my application.”
When he sniffed Dee leaned in closer to him, hand on his thigh.
“I know this is really hard for you to talk about. I need you to know this doesn’t change how I feel about you, yeah? No matter what you tell me, I’m still going to love you.”
Bradley kissed her and they remained tangle for a moment.
“That asshole pulled my papers. It’s been so long and I’m still just so fucking pissed.”
“To the Academy? Did he say why?”
Bradley angrily swiped at his eyes, then refused to look at Dee.
“At the time, he just said I wasn’t ready; too young, not mature enough.”
Then he stifled a sob.
“Really proved that when I kicked him out of the house. I called my phone provider, had his number blocked, I left California and I got into UVA. I didn’t- I didn’t even think about it, I just- severed all ties.”
The tears were finally coming, and Dee reached for the box of tissues that were on the coffee table in front of them.
“The mission brought everything back?” She suggested, slipping into his arms when he reached for her.
“My entire career I’ve always been told I’m too slow, that I don’t know when it’s okay to bend the rules.”
“It’s okay to be cautious.”
“Maverick... god, I can’t- just seeing him, after so long... I remembered why I was so mad at him, and I wanted to tell you, but Dee-“
“-it was too fresh, I wouldn’t ever ask you to if you weren’t ready.”
Dee watched Bradley try to get himself back together, and she frowned.
“I’m worried about you,” she said softly, “you’re not eating, you’re not sleeping. Is there- is there something Maverick said to you? Is it something I can help with?”
“I nearly died,” Bradley choked out like it was a bad taste in his mouth, “I nearly died.”
Dee’s eyes watered, watching her husband struggle, and they tightened their embrace.
“Fuck, I’m really fucking glad you didn’t,” Dee whispered into his shoulder, wiping her own face. Bradley couldn’t even chuckle, shuddering breaths rushing over Dee’s back and she pulled back to look at him.
“You nearly died, honey. The main thing is you didn’t.”
“Mav saved my ass, in the air, on the mission. I was out of weapons, and next thing I know his jet is coming over mine. Before I could do anything, his jet was hit by a SAM.”
Dee was familiar with the terminology and she put a hand to his mouth.
“Bradley?”
“I couldn’t... if there was a chance he was alive, I wasn’t going to leave him to fend for himself. I turned back, sent the others back to the carrier. At least if I got shot down too, you and the kids would have the others to take care of you. God knows my mom had a village raising me.”
Tears streamed down Dee’s face but she stayed silent while Bradley processed his thoughts.
“I got down to the ground safely. Mav and I found each other and he told me I was an idiot. Next thing I know, we’re getting into some geriatric fuckin’ F-14 he found in a hangar that we’d just bombed and Mav’s telling me to hold on so he can take off on a taxi way. Dee, I’m not kidding, if I’d had breakfast that morning I think I would have puked then.”
Dee snorted.
“So we get into the air, lose our landing gear, and as much as Mav and I are like this is great! I’m also thinking about how this might be my day and I didn’t even get to spend it with your or the kids.”
“You can’t think like that, babe,” Dee suggested softly, rubbing her hand over Bradley’s thigh. He nodded.
“I know, but- I can’t explain it. I’ve had a lot of close calls but I’ve never been that close.”
He shrugged.
“Then this enemy jet showed up- some super tech bullshit even Mav gaped at. It can do all this shit that the US could never imagine, and then Mav fired at it. Pop, pop, pop, like that’s going to do anything. I think he was reliving his Top Gun days.”
For another couple minutes, Dee listened as Bradley recounted the details he could without being court-martialled. When he was finished for the time being, she gently whacked his shoulder.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” she scolded. Bradley frowned but she raised an eyebrow.
“What-“
“I guess you got over your too slow thing. It’s not a problem in this house, by the way.”
Dee got up, but didn’t go too far. She wasn’t sure she could handle leaving her husband at that point.
“Have you and Maverick talked since you got back to dry land? What about you and Hangman?”
“I haven’t spoken to Bagman, he went right back to being his unsufferable himself, and Mav- I told him I was gonna call him when I was settled back here.”
Dee crossed her arms.
“I’ll kick your ass later for being a self-sacrificing idiot, but right now... right now I’m just really glad you’re here.”
-
Jogging up the steps to the front door, Maverick glanced down at his phone again to make sure he had the right address. There was a kid’s bike on the lawn near the garage doors, no sign of Bradley’s Bronco. Sighing, Maverick reached up and knocked on the frame of the screen door.
“Dad, can I get it?”
“Hold on, kiddo-“
“-I got it!”
A little girl ran up to the front door, swinging it open. She frowned.
“You’re not Uncle Hangy.”
“Uh, is- is Bradley here?”
The little girl’s nose crinkled.
“Who’s Bradley?”
“Hey, what’s the rule about not opening the door to strangers?”
Rooster appeared from further down the hallway, scooping the little girl on to his hip. All of the air left Maverick’s body and he swallowed.
“Bradley.”
“Mav. Hey. Uh, c’mon in. Don’t mind the mess.”
Rooster opened the door and Maverick stepped into the house, admiring it as Rooster led the way into the kitchen. A woman was standing at the kitchen counter, wiping a little boy’s face.
“Dee, meet Pete Mitchell. Mav... meet my wife, Dee”
“It’s great to- wow. Uh, I... it’s great to meet you, Dee.”
Dee stood, shaking Maverick’s hand.
“You too. Can I get you something to drink? How was your flight from San Diego?”
“Coffee would be great, thank you. Uh, the flight...”
Maverick paused, realising there were three children, all looking like the perfect combination of Bradley and Dee in the house. Suddenly he was overwhelmed with emotion.
“The flight was great,” he said. Dee smiled at him, heading over to the coffee maker.
“Roos, maybe you guys could sit on the couch? I’ll get the girls settled and be there in a sec.”
“Sure.”
Rooster smacked a kiss on her temple, leading Maverick over to the living area. Settling into the cushions, Maverick glanced around the house.
“You have a beautiful family, Bradley,” he said. Bradley nodded.
“I’m lucky to have them.”
He took a deep breath, looking to Maverick.
“Look, I don’t want to rehash the past, but- but I understand why you pulled my papers now. Being a dad, I- I couldn’t handle it if I knew my kids were putting themselves in danger, and if I could... I’d stop it too.”
Maverick shook his head.
“Bradley, that’s not the reason-“
“-so, Pete, you knew Bradley’s parents, right?”
Dee flopped on to the couch, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Maverick smiled.
“I did. Goose- uh, Nick- was my best friend from before we enlisted, and- well, Carole... she was like a sister to me.”
He cleared his throat, gesturing between Dee and his godson.
“When did this happen? You have kids now?”
“Three. Bree is 8, Stella is 7 and James is 2,” Dee answered easily.
“Wow,” Maverick replied breathlessly, “sorry, I just- I’m trying to wrap my head around it. It’s a lot. Tell me everything.”
“Well, uh, we met in 2006...”
-