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Walking around Maverick’s hangar was a bit surreal for Bradley. Initially, it had been hard to believe that Mav even had a hangar, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Where else would someone like Maverick, more at home amongst literal machines than people, feel most relaxed? Especially after Bradley had all but kicked him out of their previous home.
He winced reflectively.
Now was not the time for that. They were supposed to be working on this, that was the entire reason he was here this week—-to help work on them . To help them move past the literal years of separation and arguing.
He took a slow sort of stroll around the place, admiring the Mustang and reminiscing over the bikes he saw carefully set and tarped in the corner. It—this was somehow simultaneously heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. In many ways, it felt like coming home , like the hangar was an embodiment of Maverick .
The photos on the walls, the mounds of accolades and awards his godfather had accumulated through the years—the photos of him . There were programs from his graduations, an honest to God newspaper clipping from a community event he’d helped organize in college, a Freud, hand drawn etching of his eventual helmet design.
In fact, all of the portions of Bradley were more prominent than anything else, and wasn’t that telling?
God, he’d screwed up. He’d majorly screwed up the best thing that had ever happened, having Mav . Having a Dad when his was so cruelly ripped away, when his mom died and left him practically an orphan—Maverick was the one constant in his life. The one person he could always count on.
Admittedly, it was part of the reason the eventual betrayal had hurt so deeply, but it was hard to deny that Maverick had been the tether keeping him afloat for so much of his life.
He was—-
Ahhhhhchooooo!
He was sneezing.
Bradley frowned, looking around the hangar to try and see where his dad was. Maverick didn’t sneeze. Like, ever. In the entirety of Bradley’s life, he was pretty sure he’d only heard him sneeze a dozen times, if that. And it was always when the poor man was really—-
AHHHHHHchoooo
Really sick.
“Shit,” Brad muttered, ducking under the wing of the P51. That couldn’t have felt good with the ribs and bruising he knew his dad was still nursing.
He finds the older man crouched by a box in the corner by the airstream. “Dad?”
“Hmm?”
“Did you—did you just sneeze ?”
“Uh,” his ears reddened. “It’s just a sneeze.”
Bradley crossed his arms. “Really? We both know that isn’t true. You never sneeze.”
“The box was dusty,” Maverick deflected.
“Uhhuh,” Bradley raised an eyebrow.
They stared at each other for a long second, neither one budging.
Bradley eventually sighed, deciding to table the conversation for now . Let the old man think he got away with it maybe. “What do you have there, then?”
Maverick grinned, folding back the cardboard to reveal several boxes of lego airplanes.
“Why the hell do you have all of those?”
Mav shrugged a bit sheepishly. “I—-we used to really like building them together so it was just something I’d pick up from time to time, when I was thinking about you. Figured someday that we’d get a chance to build them. I—I thought maybe if we were each working on building one of these, then talking wouldn’t feel so—I dunno. We’d be focusing on the lego and not the feelings, maybe?”
He thought it over for a second. “That—-that actually makes a lot of sense, Dad. Do you want to take them over to the table then? Pick one and—-I guess start talking?”
Together, they moved the box of lego sets over towards where the couch and chair were situated, the coffee table becoming ground zero for a lego prop plane and fighter jet.
For the first few minutes, there was just the sounds of plastic opening and tiny clicks as bricks made their way into formation. It was nice , actually. A pseudo calm before the storm.
But then Bradley’s mouth was open and he couldn’t stop the words pouring out.
“I—-I wanted so badly to hate you. To pretend you never existed or that you had abandoned me. To be able to feel like I was right for throwing the world’s worst temper tantrum. But—-but I never could, and it never felt right,” he shook his head. “I just—-I felt so alone, Dad. I felt like I was being abandoned but then I also hated myself for being the idiot who ran away from you. I caused all of this and I—I am so sorry.”
“You—sweetheart, you didn’t cause all of this,” Mav fiddled with a lego piece. “ I did. I’m the one who pulled your papers, who destroyed your dreams—you—-“
“Don’t forgive me, Dad,” he squeezed his eyes closed. “Not that easily. I—I hurt you. The shit I said?”
“You were angry, you were upset that I—I practically betrayed you—-that’s not something you just—and you were a teenage and I mean you always had a temper, I—-“
“I was a grade A asshole, Dad,” Bradley stated clearly, wiping a stray tear. “I wasted over a decade of time that we could have had together—building Legos, watching baseball, just—just being there, and I—I just want you to know I’m sorry.”
He was suddenly wrapped in a tight hug, his dad’s familiar arms holding him close. “I love you, Brad, and that’s all that matters, okay? I don’t care about anything else.”
Bradley hugged him back, though he was careful about the older man’s ribs. “I love you so much, Dad. So much.”
****************************************************************************************************
Hours later, Bradley was nursing a headache brought on by crying and attempting to pull a pizza out of the too small Airstream oven. He felt—better. They still had a ways to go but he could honestly say that he felt more grounded than he had in a very long time, and it was a huge comfort to have Mav back in his life. To have him close .
Ahhhhhhhhhchoooo!
The younger pilot froze, listening carefully. This wasn’t good.
“Shit—“ came the muffled moan a few seconds later, wracking Bradley’s concern a few points higher.
He shut the oven off and quickly moved out of the airstream and back into the hangar itself, searching for the shorter pilot. He found him doubled over on the couch, an arm wrapped tightly around his rib cage as he grimaced.
“Damnit, Dad!” Bradley hurried over to him, gently helping him to sit more upright. “Easy— you okay? I bet that didn’t feel good…”
“Nope,” Mav grit out tightly. “Would not recommend.”
“Are you going to admit that you’re sick now, I mean I’m not sure the last time I heard you sneeze three times, Dad, and now with these ribs—-“
Maverick settled a little against Bradley, sighing. “Meds did what they could, I guess. It’s not so bad, I promise. Just some sort of head cold but I—“
Bradley propped him up a little better, hoping to ease some of the pressure on his rib cage. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I—Look I really wanted this—like us meeting and working things out—I wanted to make sure that happened. I didn’t want you canceling on me or worrying I guess. Part of me probably wasn’t sure I could handle it if you canceled.”
Bradley sighed, pressing a kiss to his dad’s forehead. It was starting to feel far warmer than normal. “Well let’s get a few things straight then, okay? I will always worry about you, especially when you’re sick or injured. And I wouldn’t have canceled, Dad, I would’ve made sure you were looked after, which is what I’m going to do now. Just stay here, okay?”
“Okay, Baby Goose.”
Bradley left his dad carefully propped on the cushions of the couch and headed back into the airstream. He quickly sliced up the pizza and stacked it haphazardly in the Tupperware container he found before moving back towards the bedroom sort of portion. Snagging a familiar duffel, he set about adding toiletries and essentials to the bag before tossing several sets of clothes on the top. He folded an all too familiar jacket on the top and then sipped it shut, slipping it easily over his shoulder. On his way back out of the trailer, he picked up the Tupperware container and moved back towards his dad on the couch.
“What’re you—oh, are you leaving? I guess it makes sense,” Mav shrugged, clearly trying not to look upset.
“We’re both leaving. This is your bag, dad, not mine,” he redirected gently, pulling him up from the couch. “You’re coming home with me and I’m going to look after you.”
“B, you don’t have to—-“
“I do, and more than that, I want to,” he insisted, snagging a few of the unopened lego boxes to stack under one arm. “C’mon, Dad, up and at ‘em. Let’s get you someplace with a real bed and medicine that isn’t pre Gulf War, okay?”
“Are you—“
“Dad, I’m sure, I promise. C’mon, old timer, let’s go—-“
“Says the man with the outdated mustache that drives an ancient Bronco,” Maverick muttered under his breath, but he dutifully followed his son towards the vehicle, turning off lights as he went.
“It’s vintage , and you know it,” Bradley snarked, offering him a warm smile.
“Hmm, I dunno,” Mav sighed playfully, carefully climbing into the passenger seat. He wasn’t too proud to admit that it felt good to just lean his head against the passenger window as Bradley started the car.
Maybe he could just rest his eyes for a few?
“Get some rest, Dad,” Bradley said softly, slowly pulling towards the main road. “I’ve gotcha.”
He felt the older pilot twitch slightly, as if still unsettled, so he reached over to gently take his hand in his. Maverick relaxed instantly and Bradley felt one more piece, deep in his chest, sink into place. He was home .