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Chapter Text

This was the dumbest thing Maverick had ever done in his life. (And he'd done some pretty dumb shit.) Why on earth had he agreed to take the promotion to Rear Admiral?

The alternative was retiring and never getting to fly a jet again, that's why. 

So with that threat hanging over his head, along with the knowledge that Ice seemed to have fared just fine, Mav held his tongue and worked harder. Somehow tasks and other various emails were added to his inbox faster than he could sort and check them off. Lifting his coffee to his mouth he attempted to take a drink. Only to discover that the mug was empty. Sparing a few moments to weigh the pros and cons of taking two minutes to refill, he ultimately decided against it. He hadn't even made a dent in his work and he couldn't afford to fall behind anymore. Sighing heavily, he rubbed at his tired eyes and dove back in. 

When he looked up again, it was dark outside. When had that happened? Leaning back, he felt several satisfying pops of various joints. He hadn't been this still for so long probably ever.  He looked over his ever updating schedule and saw that while his work tasks were (mostly) completed for the day, his personal calendar was blinking with a reminder that he was now late to meet with Bradley.

Cursing to himself, he stood, digging his cell phone out as he did so. Barely remembering to switch off his computer and office lights, he ignored the chain of messages he had received throughout the day and went straight to calling his son. 

Rooster picked up on the second ring. "Hey Mav. You ok?"

The warmth in his heart did little to dissipate the guilt. "Yeah I'm fine. I'm so sorry I'm late to your place. I lost track of time. Is it too late now or are you still wanting to meet?" Putting his phone on speaker he changed from his service uniform into his civvies as quickly as he could. He was still stiff from being at his desk literally all day. His hands also felt a little clumsy. Shaking them out, he finished dressing and hightailed it out to the parking lot. 

"I'm still free." Bradley was saying. "However I did cook dinner already. Sorry, but I got hungry."

No wonder, too. He was almost two hours later than when he had said they'd meet. At the mention of food, his own stomach lurched reminding him that the only thing he'd given it today had been coffee. The guilt strengthened and threatened to choke him. He resolved to come in earlier tomorrow and try to get his tasks finished sooner so that he could give his kid the attention and time he deserved. 

"-dad?"

Whoops. By his tone, it hadn't been the first time Brad had called his name. "I'm here. Sorry. Just decompressing."

"We don't have to meet tonight. It's ok. I know you've been busy-"

"I want to. I've been looking forward to seeing you." Maverick cut in. Stress and fatigue aside, he'd be damned if he let another day go by without seeing his kid. "I'm on my bike right now, I'll see you in a few." Hanging up, he quickly left base and drove to the Bradshaw house. He passed a few fast food places still open but he didn't bother to stop. He had already lost enough time with Rooster. Besides, this was hardly the first time he'd forgotten to eat. He'd just ask Brad for a snack or grab something in the morning before he went in. 

As the hours passed and still no word from his dad, Bradley nearly gave up on seeing him that evening. He had held out as long as he could to wait to eat, but eventually gave in to his body's needs. Trying to push away the sullen feeling of having plans one looks forward to get cancelled, he went about his evening, half an ear out for his phone just in case. He was rewarded a few hours later by Maverick calling him. Upon hearing his voice however, Brad frowned. He sounded tired and the background noises accompanying him told him that Maverick was rushing. 

His earlier resentment left and guilt filled the gap. Since Maverick had been promoted, they'd kept him continuously busy. He'd barely been able to see him in the days that ensued. Offering to cancel tonight himself, a part of him was pleased that Maverick declined. They weren't going to do much. The original plan had just been to fiddle with the Bronco (it was too dark now to see properly to do that) and watch a movie. However, it was good to just be around each other. After fifteen years of cutting his family out of his life, Rooster didn't want to let a single day go by where he didn't at least send them a text. 

Once Maverick hung up, Bradley looked around his house for something to fill the fifteen or so minutes until he got there. He had planned to do a deep clean this weekend because his Uncles Slider and Ice were coming into town. He wasn't a messy individual, he just tended to have various projects in different stages around the house-a trait he inherited from Maverick-all the flyboys liked to tease him.

Wiping down the kitchen counter took him down the rabbit hole and he found himself going through his pantry for expired food to toss out. The damage wasn't too bad but it did lead him to finding a popcorn pack. That would go great with their movie watching, so he pulled it out and started the microwave.

He was still keeping an ear out for the perfect time to pull out the bag when the door next to the kitchen opened, revealing Maverick. Just as Rooster predicted, the older man looked tired. However, as soon as he saw Bradley, a huge smile lit up his face and some of the weariness was abated. Brad opened his arms for a hug, any frustration at his dad fully gone. It didn't matter that he was late. He still made time for him. To his concern, Maverick leaned heavily into their embrace. He wasn't heavy-Brad could bench press his weight and more, but it was more of the fact that he really wasn't standing anymore, it was more of a heavy lean. 

Maverick must have realized it too because he pulled himself together and back upright again. "Hey kid, I think something's burning."

Shit. The popcorn. 

Cursing, Bradley whirled back to the microwave for damage control, but it was too late. Carefully, he dropped the still slightly smoking bag onto the stove top while Maverick, chuckling, opened the kitchen windows. Fanning the air with a dishtowel, he turned to face his dad with a rueful expression. "Sorry about that. Guess we'll just have to watch the movie without popcorn."

Maverick, still smirking, said "It's not the end of the world Baby Goose. Now, what movie did you decide for tonight?"

Man, Bradley was really dropping the ball tonight. "Uhhh... I just figured we'd find something on tv?"

That was fine with Mav so together they got settled in the living room and channel surfed until something good caught their eye. Unfortunately there wasn't much on (the downside of having a movie night in the middle of the week) so they ended up halfway through Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. The night got later and the shadows deepened under Maverick's eyes. Several times, he had to suppress a yawn. 

"I could use one of those time turners." He said to himself. While no slouch himself, he felt stretched thin by the amount of extra work his promotion had cursed him with. He wondered how the hell Ice had managed to keep on top of it all. He couldn't tell anyone though-no need to give anyone further ammunition that he was incapable and unworthy to still be in the service. He missed flying. Maybe he could find a time to block off an hour. 

Which reminded him that it was pretty late. Mildly surprised to find himself slouched deeply into the couch cushions, his body felt a little odd. The simple answer was that he was exhausted and could use six consecutive hours of sleep or even fifteen minutes a day to just breathe but the longer answer was that to maintain a social life on top of work none of that was going to happen anytime soon until he accumulated to his changed duties. Nor was he willing to give up any of his time spent with his kid or anyone else who asked for it. He was fine. He could do it. Hell, if his wingman could still work when he'd had cancer Maverick could suck it up and pull through. 

He always did. 

He was startled by a hand on his knee. Eyes flying open when had they closed? he saw Bradley next to him. The credits were rolling on the tv. Not familiar with the movie, Pete wasn't exactly sure how much time he had lost to musing. 

"You awake dad?" Rooster asked quietly. "It's getting pretty late. Wanna crash here?"

"Wasn't asleep." Maverick replied, squinting at his watch. Oof. If he left right now to go out to his hangar he'd have to just turn right around to get back to base for tomorrow's (today's) shift. "Yeah if you don't mind. I've got an early start tomorrow. I think some higher ups are coming."

Brad stared blankly at him. 

"What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. You're always welcome here. I think you've even got some clothes still here if you want to change." Leading the way down the hall he frowned to himself at how out of it his dad was. For him to not remember his wingman and RIO to be the "higher up" visitors was troubling. He got Mav situated for the night and turned in himself. He needed to have a talk with his dad when the older man had more than two working braincells. 

Chapter Text

Rooster missed his chance the next morning however, as the spare bedroom was empty when he stumbled down the hall. "The hell? It's not even seven." Returning to his room he shot off a quick text to Slider.

Rooster: did plans change on your visit?

Slider: yeah. ETA about 1500 hours. Ice couldn't make it until tomorrow. You seen Mav? His messages were weird

Rooster: he spent the night here. he's completely worn out. won't say it outright. check on him when you stop by?

Slider: always

Reading Rooster's last message, Slider sighed. He knew he hadn't been as on top of keeping track of their resident hazard to society as he should have been. After Maverick had accepted (read: pressured into) his promotion, he had kind of fallen off the face of the earth as far as messaging went. He hadn't responded to anything in the 86er group chat other than an initial thumbs up when the group congratulated him on his promotion. At first Ron thought it had been a bittersweet ordeal but a couple of weeks had passed and he hadn't responded to anything. Not even when Wolf tagged him in a stupid meme from a show they both enjoyed. 

Well he'd just have to fix that as soon as he arrived later this afternoon. For now, he just had one last leg of his trip left to go. Hopefully the kid who was piloting the commercial jet wouldn't make it too turbulent a flight. 

Getting onto the base was no problem. He wasn't the COMPACFLT so there was no fanfare waiting for him. Walking down the familiar halls, Slider stopped a passing corpsman and asked where Admiral Mitchell's office was. They pointed him in the right direction and his long strides quickly ate up the distance to the appropriate door. When he reached it he was surprised at its location: the end of a hall where the light outside of it was flickering. They knew Maverick was an Admiral now, right?

Knocking on the door, he heard movement from within. "Enter!" 

Opening the door, he was met with the sight of Maverick staring intently at his computer. Several stacks of various notebooks and papers were settled on the desk as well. Slider stood in the doorway, waiting for the other man to look up. 

And waited. 

Finally he cleared his throat and Maverick jumped, as if he had already forgotten that he had allowed someone else to enter the room. When he saw Slider standing before him, his face lit up and he stood, came around from his desk and entered into the taller man's open arms for a hug. Standing up so suddenly caused the blood to leave his head and he leaned further into the embrace than he had planned while he focused on keeping upright. 

While holding Mav, Slider quickly took stock of the younger man's condition. No visible injuries, but he felt like he had lost some weight. The momentary weaving on his feet betrayed his exhaustion as well. He'd only had this promotion a few weeks, how had his condition deteriorated so quickly? Maverick was one of the smartest people he knew (when it came to tactical things, self awareness was an entirely different issue) so something had to be seriously wrong that he wasn't handling this job as well as he could. 

Not ready to open that can of worms just yet-he was essentially on reconnaissance, Ice would be doing the heavy duty work-Ron instead said "Hey short stack. You ready for a break? Gosling said he could meet us when you were free."

Maverick sighed and gathered himself again before stepping back. He had once again been so busy, he hadn't had a chance to take a break. Despite coming in an hour earlier, things still got away from him. He couldn't believe he had forgotten his friend would be in town today. Feeling slightly out of his body, he numbly sat back down in his chair. At the rate he was going, it was going to have a permanent imprint of his ass on it. And what a fine ass it was too. Though it wouldn't stay that way with his current catch 22. Another task to add to his list. 

Tiredly he clicked on his calendar tab. Right there he saw Slider's visit in yellow. It was flashing as being late. With the smallest hint of satisfaction, he clicked it as 'complete'. He then tried not to despair as two more items filled its spot. 

Regretfully he began to shake his head that he couldn't even spare a half hour for one of his closest friends and brother figure, but Slider had moved to stand over his shoulder. Pete tried to close his tabs but he wasn't fast enough. 

Not saying anything about it, Slider instead changed tactics. "Well I'm now commanding officer on base so my time takes precedence. Come on kid. Let's get out of here."

Maverick wanted to protest. He really did. He couldn't show Sli that he was already a fuck up. However, at the invitation for freedom for just a little while, his rebellious streak took over. Ignoring the fact that he wouldn't be leaving the office until well after dark because of this interruption, he followed the taller Admiral down the hall and out of the building. 

Ron was glad Maverick hadn't fought him on taking a break. He looked awful and he seemed moments from collapse. He seemed to be going down the same path Ice had years ago. 

Ron sat in the chair next to an empty desk that was placed by newly appointed Vice Admiral Tom "Iceman" Kazansky's door. He had messaged that he was here but hadn't received a reply yet. The empty desk was supposed to be an officer aide assigned to Ice but it looked like that position had yet to be filled. 

Another five minutes passed and he stood up, about to knock on the door, thinking that maybe the other man hadn't seen the message. At last he got proof of life when Tom himself opened the door and strode down the hall without a second glance. 

As his pilot passed him, he did a double take when he saw the state of his best friend. Blond hair that was in the beginning stages of going silver and usually styled with care looked as if it had had hands run through it multiple times. Lines marred a worn face and it took Ice a few paces to register that he'd walked right by his best friend and to refocus on him. 

"Holy shit man, what happened?" Slider asked, striding forward. His thoughts began to race as the worst scenario came to mind. Was his brother sick again? Did the cancer return?

Immediately any sign of exhaustion dropped behind a wall and if Ron hadn't known Tom for so long, he wouldn't have guessed anything was off. 

However, he did. The two men had practically been joined at the hip during their early days at the academy and later sharing a bunk on various carriers and then sitting in the same cockpit just feet from each other. Ron knew all of Tom's tells and right now, something was seriously wrong. 

Meanwhile Tom was collecting himself as well as his overwhelming list of things to do. He considered himself an extremely organized person but his newest position was testing his limits. 'This is what you wanted' he told himself fiercely as he looked in dismay at the nearly overlapping items that all seemed to need his attention. 

Nothing for it then. He just needed to continue to double down and work extra hard to get on top of it all. Easier said than done. Having built a good name for himself, he was high in demand and soon his work/home life became unbalanced. Despite having had his former RIO's arrival on his calendar for over a week, he had still forgotten about it somewhere between his meeting with another Admiral stationed in Japan and the forms that needed his approval. 

He would never tell Slider that however. 

"Nothing happened. How was your flight?"

"Turbulent as shit. It was like the kid had never flown before but don't change the subject." Ron replied sternly. Tom might outrank him by a bit but he still had a few inches of height on him and he used that to his advantage as he stepped into Ice's personal space. Grabbing hold of Ice's shoulders he could feel the other man shaking slightly from exhaustion. Anxiety amped up, Slider asked "Is it back?"

Ice blinked in confusion at the non sequitur. Once the question made it through his brain haze, he stepped back, horrified. "No! No, I'm not sick." He grabbed his brother's hands in return. "I promise you would be in the first to know, but no, I'm fine."

Well that was one crisis averted. However, Slider was determined. "So then you're overworking yourself."

To his credit, Ice lasted another twenty seconds before giving up the facade. "How long have you known?"

"Long enough to know you're not as ok as you've been trying to project." He slung his arm around his best friend's shoulders. "Now come on. You're done for the day. I don't care what your crazy schedule says. You're Vice Admiral now and you can set your own schedule. I'm taking you home and you're gonna eat something, get some sleep, then we're gonna find you a competent aide to help you sort through this mess, and I'm gonna catch you up on the latest shenanigans Maverick has gotten into."

Coming back to himself, he realized he was standing next to his car, while Mav leaned on the door waiting for him to unlock it. Two short beeps later and they were sitting inside. "So where to?" Ron asked. 

Maverick hadn't bothered readjusting the seat so he was leaned back further than normal. (Slider had had his luggage in the front and hadn't adjusted.) Body recognizing the semi horizontal position, it began to relax and a yawn escaped. Embarrassed, Mav rubbed roughly at his face to try and wake up. "Anywhere's fine," he said, trying to get back on track. 

"Have you been sleeping, Pete?"

"Enough. Getting old's a bitch." Mav tried to tease in a weak deflection. Slider acquiesced and rolled his eyes. They both knew he was the eldest of their '86 class by eight years. However, he wasn't ready to let go of his question. 

"When's the last time you got more than five hours of sleep a night, Pete?" He hoped for more, but for this particular aviator, he knew to lowball the number. 

"I don't know Ron. But it's fine. That's what weekends are for." Honestly, a lie-in sounded heavenly, but Mav knew those two days were his only chances to spend time with Bradley, any of the other Daggers in town, and now Slider himself. Not only that but he needed to do some work around the hanger that had had to be put on the back burner until he could get his feet under him. 

Not that they were back under him yet but it had to happen soon, right?

Mav felt the car move around him but he experienced another out of body experience. He let it happen, knowing he was safe. The gentle vibration of the car around him threatened to put him to sleep. Maverick, stubborn as ever, fought it. Slider had taken time to come see him and he wasn't going to waste it by taking a quick nap.

His body had other ideas apparently because the next thing Mav knew, he was being gently shaken on his shoulder. Adrenaline shot through him and it was enough to get him to push away. 

"Easy Mav. We're here. You nodded off for a few minutes. You ok?"

"Yeah of course. Sorry about that." He looked out the window. "Where'd you guys decide?"

Bradley appeared at the window. "Bob told us about this place. Swears by it. Figured it was as good a time as any to try it." He studied his dad. "You got an early start this morning. Did you eat anything before you went in?"

Maverick, who had begun to climb out of the car, experienced another wave of lightheadedness. His silence was more than enough of an answer. 

"Pete, do you remember when you last ate?" Slider had come around to the passenger side and saw that Rooster's hands were hovering over the smaller aviator's shoulders in the event he needed support. 

"Of course. We had popcorn last night."

At that, Bradley did hold onto Maverick's arms. "No dad. I burned it. Remember?"

Well shit. That meant it had been a bit longer than Pete realized since he'd consumed anything other than coffee. He now recognized the feeling in his stomach as having waited so long to eat, that he was now nauseated. He knew he had been stupid, but he hadn't had time!

'You should have made time' his subconscious chided him. Just another failing to the tally. 

Over his head, Bradley and Ron exchanged worried looks. The situation was worse than they had originally thought. Mav was crashing right before their eyes. Picking convenience over image, they hustled inside the diner and sat the worn aviator down. Selecting the easiest and quickest thing to make off the menu (perusing for other items would have to wait until next time) they plied Pete with water to keep him awake long enough to eat something. 

Thirty minutes later, they deemed it a success as they went back outside. Maverick seemed to have gotten his second (or third of fourth) wind and actively joined in their conversation. Parting ways, Rooster held his dad tightly, trying to transfer all his love and energy into the hug. Mav hugged back just as tightly, in an attempt to cherish every moment he was given with his boy. 

"Don't work too hard." Brad said into the shorter man's hair. He felt Mav huff a laugh. 

"I'll be fine."

Even as he said those words, he wondered if they were true. He dreaded going back to work, and it took some time to convince Slider that he needed to. But ultimately, he knew it would be worse if he didn't. 

Chapter Text

As it turned out, it was still pretty bad when he did. 

Being a Rear Admiral Lower Half, while he did have more authority than he did as a Captain, the Vice Admiral on base still liked to remind him just how far beneath him he still found Mav. A timid Ensign stood waiting at his door with a message for Pete. Feeling his stomach drop at the familiar notice to see Vice Admiral Rylan, he still mustered a smile and polite nod for the poor kid. (Something Mav had been working on during his tenure here was to show more kindness to the subordinates, something Rylan dismissed entirely as they too were beneath him).

Taking a deep breath, Maverick made his way back up the hall and several floors up for the meeting. 

It was nearly midnight by the time he staggered through the door of his home. The meeting had certainly not gone well-Mav was positive that Rylan needed to up his blood pressure medication; the man had turned nearly purple while he had been yelling at him. Having been in the Navy for over half his life, Maverick had mastered staring into the middle distance while a CO was addressing him. However, instead of listening to the pompous man's vitriol, he instead thought about that afternoon's lunch and how he missed outings like that. Sure he still had them on his calendar, but they were strictly for weekends and he had to keep a constant eye on his watch for his next appointment. 

Tuning back in when the yelling had ceased, he waited to be dismissed. Before he was, however, the Vice Admiral assigned him more work. Disheartened, it didn't occur to Mav at the time that the new work was not actually his job to do. Bracing himself, he got back to his office and devoted his full concentration on the never ending list of tasks. 

Not bothering to turn on any lights, he fumbled through the hall, dropping his jacket and bag on the way. That was a problem for future him. Barely getting his shoes off as he sat on the bed, he weighed the pros and cons of how much energy he had left to try and shower. 

Decidedly not enough, if his heavy body slowly listing to the side was any indicator. He was asleep before his head hit the mattress. 

Waking with a yell, Maverick flailed a bit as his body hit the floor. Still in the clutches of his nightmare, it took a few moments to remember where he was and why sleeping on the edge of his bed (in his jeans??) was a bad idea. Next came a groan of pain as his aging body also reminded him of how shitty it had been treated recently. 

Now completely awake, he pulled himself back up and into the shower. It wasn't fair. He finally had a handful of hours to sleep and his subconscious decided to ruin it by showing him his Greatest Hits of all his failures. Overwhelmed, he sagged against the wall of the shower and broke down. His tears mixed with the water and were just as easily washed down the drain. That was his life now. Constantly struggling to stay on top of it all but ultimately flowing farther and farther down. 

Why hadn't he asked for help? Was it his stupid pride? Was it because he believed that because everyone before him had managed this position, there was no reason on earth he couldn't as well?

He missed flying. That was easy. Nowadays, he was lucky if he even saw a plane on his way in in the mornings. He missed the banter with his wingman and Goose. 

God he missed Goose. Struggling to think of something else before he became teary again, he stepped out of the shower, wrapped himself in a towel, and went and over to the counter. Apparently he had been in the shower so long the steam had fogged up the glass. Even with the distortion he could see how rough he looked. Maybe Slider and Rooster had been onto something. 

Shaking his head, he dried off and looked for fresh clothes (might as well start on laundry as that was yet another task that had fallen to the wayside). It was nearly five am, a bit before dawn, but the most consecutive amount of sleep he'd had in a while. It wasn't enough and he knew it but there was no way he'd be able to fall asleep again with his mind racing the way it was. He halfheartedly did some tasks around the house and when the sun finally peeked over the rooftops, he began to get ready for another hellish day. Making an effort to do better, he ate a piece of toast with his coffee. At last he couldn't drag out his routine any further and went to the garage. 

The wind helped to wake him up more on his way in but as soon as he reached his office and several hundred memos and emails, the lethargy flooded back in. The first few hours were spent sorting through the most important things: a few meetings and one call that could have just been another email. By ten hundred hours he was already exhausted again. Looking at his hand, Mav noticed a slight tremor. He was shaking he was so tired. 

Eyes burning and brain like molasses, he stared blankly at his computer screen. He just needed a quick moment to come up with a reply to this email. Maverick's eyes closed of their own accord and his moment stretched out into the inviting darkness of sleep.

Chapter Text

A soft clacking noise was the first thing Mav heard when he came back to awareness. Having had no recollection of falling asleep, he grunted and sat up from the slump he had fallen into. Rubbing his tired eyes, he found himself at his desk and Ice sitting next to him calmly typing on a laptop. His laptop Maverick realized as a few more braincells woke up and noted the monitors in front of him were dark due to no longer being connected to his computer. 

"Ice." He croaked desperately, trying to wake up. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to know you're not as ok as you've been trying to project." Those words mirrored the ones Slider had said to Ice back when he was still finding his feet as a newly promoted three star Admiral. Ice had barely stayed afloat then, and that had been after years of rising through the ranks and accumulating tips and tricks to manage everything. It also helped that he had eventually been assigned a personal assistant to weed out what was truly for him and what were just lazy senders hoping to get answer straight from the top. As COMPACFLT he now had a handle on all organizing and whatever few things fell through the cracks were immediately snatched up by his aide.

Having arrived on base and not seeing his brother first thing was a red flag. When another fifteen minutes had passed and still no word from Maverick, Ice grew concerned. Excusing himself from the entourage, getting directions to the other man's office, and finding said man fast asleep despite the noise Ice made coming in was a warning klaxon. Something was terribly wrong and his brother was falling apart. Ice was here now to do what he did best: fix things.

Disconnecting the laptop from it's base still wasn't enough to make the other man stir. Accepting that Pete was out of commission for the time being, Tom gave himself permission to take a look and start working the issue. Looking through Maverick's schedule and emails, he had been horrified at what had been done to his wingman. He knew members of the Navy still hated his name but even having risen as far as he had up the chain, Tom was still amazed  to find how deep the hatred still ran. Having had no full understanding of what could be delegated, Mav had tried to shoulder it all (including tasks that were definitely not his to handle.)

Immediately creating subfolders and noting that Mav had done some of the same, told Ice that he had been more than capable of the job, he had just been taken advantage of. While he was working, several reminders flashed onscreen for various meetings Maverick was "required" to attend-one of them being Ice's arrival itself. Shaking his head, the Fleet Admiral dismissed the reminders and turned his attention to the calendar. It was while he was doing that, that Maverick woke up. 

"Why didn't you ask for help? You know there's no possible way one person could do all this."

"Because I didn't want to let you down!" Maverick snapped, last straw slivered into tiny pieces. He was mad at himself that he had been found this way and that his failure was so obvious. He also kicked himself for not being ready to fly with his wingman upon his arrival. Not an action typically taken by Admirals, which made the occasion even more special. Standing, he attempted to kick start his brain back on.

Eyes sharp despite their age, Ice missed nothing. "Pete." He said gently. "You have never let me down. Yes, I've been frustrated by your decisions sometimes, but you are not a disappointment or a failure." He gestured to the computer which seemed to be generating memos on it's own at that point. "This is a fucking mess. Slider was right in the fact that something was seriously wrong. Now we're going to have a chat with Vice Admiral Rylan and then I'm calling either Ron or Bradley to pick you up and take you home." 

"But we were going to fly..." Mav trailed off. Exhausted tears welled up again as he realized that despite his little impromptu nap, he wasn't awake enough to safely operate a plane. The one task that would have made all these others bearable and he couldn't function properly enough to do it. In fact, that taste of sleep had his body crave more and he rubbed fiercely at his heavy lids so he could at least make it through the next thirty minutes. 

Ice longed to give the younger man a hug but knew that Maverick was barely keeping it together as it was. He just needed to get him through one more task and then he would turn him over to others he could trust to take care of their hazard to society. 

Bursting through Rylan's door without an appointment or waiting for an introduction, the Iceman immediately locked onto the bogey in his sights and fired without mercy. He took pleasure in watching the Admiral's face go from red with indignation to pale from implications. Ice never raised his voice, but the power he exuded was near palpable. During the entire telling off, Maverick stood in a loose parade rest (something he certainly didn't need to do as he wasn't the one being dressed down, but Tom figured it was more of that was the only thing keeping him still standing.) They stood side by side like they used to when they were instructors at Top Gun. Like they had throughout their lives various times afterwards. Like they did as wingmen. 

Once Iceman had finished and tossed a "Clear your schedule this afternoon. We will be breaking your actions down extensively" over his shoulder, he turned and left the Vice Admiral's office, Maverick on his heels. On the elevator back down, Mav sighed and Ice saw his head loll forward. Recognizing the signs of an imminent shutdown, Ice placed one steadying hand on Mav's back, the other on his chest, and carefully steered him out towards the parking lot. The smaller man was running on fumes or beyond that at this point. In fact, Tom was positive his hands were the only thing keeping him going. He changed his mind about waiting for Slider or Rooster to arrive, he was taking Maverick home now. 

By this point, Maverick couldn't see anything. He was done both mentally and physically. He wasn't even sure if he were standing or not-nothing felt real. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He was so far gone that even his inner voice was muted. However, he could sense someone was next to him, someone he trusted with every fiber of his being. They knew that he had done his best but he literally had nothing left to give anymore. That someone would keep him safe because nothing was making sense anymore. Random sounds and sensations would tune in and out. At long last he let himself go. 

Bradley was waiting on the porch when Ice's familiar car pulled up. He got a sense of deja vu as he could see the form of his dad slumped against the window and felt his heart rate pick up. It settled though as he also took in the fact that his uncle didn't look worried. Instead, he looked eerily blank like the Iceman had taken over. When he saw Brad standing there, Tom made a reappearance and he waved him over. 

"I think he fell asleep standing up before I could get him to the car." Tom spoke quietly, though with how completely out Maverick currently was, he wouldn't have heard him anyways. "Rylan's been abusing his power by giving Pete the workload of three."

The two of them looked over to the passenger side of the car. Maverick hadn't woken. If anything, he had seemed to have nearly become one with the seat. 

"He was always working late so that he could make time for us on the weekends." Rooster revealed, final piece clicking into place. His expression became stony. "I hope you gave him hell, sir."

Tom smirked. "Only the best for our best." He looked fondly at his wingman. Becoming serious again, he requested "Help me get him inside please."

Bradley went over to the other side of the car and carefully opened the door. When Pete still didn't react, he eased him up into his arms and carried him into the house. Together, he and Ice got him settled in bed and the youngest aviator took Mav's phone and removed the clock for good measure. Then they left the room, leaving it cracked just a tad so that they could hear if Maverick had a nightmare or needed anything. 

Chapter Text

Maverick woke with a jolt. Not from a dream, but from the feeling that he had been asleep too long. He had no idea how he had gotten here and he couldn't find his phone. In a flurried panic he threw off the covers and hurried down the hall. The sight that greeted him in the kitchen made him physically stop, but his mind continued to race. Rylan was going to be furious and he had wanted to get enough done because his wingmen were in town and-

Rooster had been in the process of showing Slider something on his phone but when his dad appeared in the door they both gave him their full attention-or rather, full scrutiny. They noted that despite having been asleep for nearly six hours, he still looked worn. That was only to be expected as he hadn't even touched his sleep debt yet. His panicked entrance was also concerning, but it was something that Bradley could immediately help with. Stepping forward he swept Maverick into a hug which the older man promptly returned. 

"Hey kid, have you seen my phone? The clock was also missing from the room and if I'm late-"

"Easy, shortstack. You're not late for anything." Slider soothed, pouring Maverick a pre prepped cup of tea filled with a blend meant to help promote relaxation. Meanwhile Rooster was awkwardly walking sideways, Mav still in his arms, to his recently vacated bar stool. Maverick struggled halfheartedly, still feeling disoriented from his sudden return to consciousness and lack of context. 

"Thank you but I really need to-" he accepted the mug from Ron and finally caught a glimpse of the time on the microwave. Only the quick reflexes of both Slider and Rooster prevented an accident as Maverick pushed the mug away and tried to swing around off the stool. 

"Holy shit Mav! Slow down!" Slider barely managed to spare hot water from going everywhere. Rooster caught Maverick and balanced him back on the stool. As an extra precaution, he kept his hands on his dad's forearms to keep him there. However, Pete wasn't having any of it. 

"Rooster, let me go! I-"

"-Need to stay put." Finished Ice as he was drawn to the room by the commotion. His tone brooked no argument and Mav reluctantly settled. Having been subject to several Serious Discussions throughout his life, he recognized the beginning of one. 

As predicted, Tom sat next to him on the other stool and showed him the laptop screen that he had been working on. Hang on, this was Maverick's laptop. When did Ice get it? In a last ditch attempt to get out of the talk, Mav tried "Good to see you Ice. When did you get in?"

Knowing what Pete was trying to do and confirming that his condition had been worse than he thought, Tom simply stared at his wingman while behind them Brad and Ron shared glances. 

"This morning. I found you dead asleep at your desk. We talked and then I chewed out your CO and brought you home."

Something unpleasant began to brew in Mav's mind. He didn't like what Ice was implying. There was no way he had forgotten. He knew he had been exhausted, but surely it hadn't gotten to the point where he wasn't keeping short term memories? Fresh disappointment hit as he realized he had missed his window to fly today. 

Needing to drive the seriousness of the situation home, Ice continued. "You also told me that you didn't want to let me down. Now since you've had some sleep and have a few more braincells available, I'll reiterate what I said earlier. You are not a disappointment. You are one of the hardest workers I know." 

"Other than you." Slider muttered.

"The point is, Rylan was giving you far more work than was feasible. He dumped off tasks he didn't want to handle and set unreasonable deadlines. I know normally you'd be able to discern that, but you also packed your personal calendar." He held up his hand when Maverick opened his mouth to protest. "Which I'm not condemning you for. But it was too much Mav. You did better than anyone could have expected, hell Slider can tell you stories of how bad I got when I was promoted."

Slider nodded and acknowledged Rooster's curious look. 

"But you need help." Ice opened a new tab with a list of four officers. "Here's a list of potential aides, personally vetted by me.They all have the means of keeping up with you. You meet with them Monday. You will also find that you will be reporting to another CO when you get there." At that last comment, Ice couldn't help but smirk. Vice Admiral Rylan had abused his power long enough.

Overwhelmed but for a different reason, Maverick sagged back into Rooster's support. He still couldn't help but feel that he could have done better, but was relieved that that particular nightmare was over. Bradley's arms came back around his chest and held him in a gentle hug. Maverick closed his eyes and basked in the comfort. His adrenaline had faded, and with it, sleep beckoned once more. 

Feeling his dad begin to lean into him even more, Rooster jostled him gently. "Don't go to sleep yet Mav. You need to eat something first. Then you can sleep all you want."

Already one step ahead, Ron went to the fridge to find something easy to make. The RIO knew Mav was fading fast but to help him not feel like utter crap when he woke up again, he wanted to feed him something he could eat quickly before his fatigue dragged him back down again. 

Also looking to keep Maverick awake, Ice had one more announcement. "When you're up for it, I have it on good authority that we'll get to make an appearance for the latest class of Top Gun. Someone needs to show those hot heads that they still have things to learn."

That did the trick...partially. Maverick smiled dopily. "An Ace, two kills for Roo, and one for you and Sli. They won't know...won't know what got em."

A deep yawn broke up his sentence. Food was placed in front of him and he made himself take a few bites. The absolute relief of having his work schedule cleared up along with the pleasure of having his best friends and son nearby once again, pushed him over the edge of sleep. 

Getting a sense of deja vu, Rooster once more carried his dad back to his bed. During the past few hours he'd come to terms with his frustration. Sure he was angry at the Vice Admiral for his actions, but he had also been mad that Maverick hadn't reached out for help. That in turn made him shift his frustration onto himself for not seeing anything sooner and not being able to help more. Vowing to himself that there wouldn't be a next time, Rooster left Maverick to sleep and went back to join his uncles. 

Slider was finishing cleaning up the kitchen while Ice was typing what Rooster suspected was a strongly worded email (on his own laptop this time). Sighing heavily, the youngest aviator sat back down on the empty barstool. 

"Talk to me B. What's going on in that head of yours?" Slider asked as he started the dishwasher. Ice finished typing and faced Bradley, ready to listen as well. 

"Why did Mav let it get so bad? Why didn't I see it sooner?" Strong emotions welled again and he tugged at his hair in frustration.

Hands gently but firmly pulled his away from his head. Ice made sure he was looking at him before answering. "That is a question we have been asking ourselves for the past thirty or so years. Maverick has ingrained habits that even your dad couldn't fully break. It's no one's fault, and he is an adult so he should be able to care for himself."

Slider interjected. "However, he's also a dumbass and tends to put himself last."

Tom cut his eyes at his RIO but didn't disagree. "All we can do is be there for him and catch him when he inevitably falls. Sometimes we can help before he does, but more often than not, he doesn't let us."

"The point is, kid, that you did all you could once you knew what was going on. That's the best that can be expected. So stop beating yourself up. Mav's already got that base covered."

Bradley mulled it over but knew already that the flyboys were right. The hug that Slider offered was accepted gratefully and he thanked his lucky stars that he hadn't lost this forever. A ping from his cell broke them apart. Already knowing what it was, Bradley grinned. 

"The other Daggers have been spamming the chat with guesses for the picture I hinted at where I promised it would blow their minds."

Ice and Slider exchanged an amused glance. "Bradley Bradshaw have you been using our influence to get you bragging rights?" By the twinkle in his eye, Rooster knew Ice didn't mind. 

"At least he comes by his bragging rights naturally. Remember the MiG picture from Goose?"

They all grinned at that one. Slider added "How about you send them two? One of you with all of us after our group flight, and one of the poor kids doing pushups afterwards?"

Bradley nodded. "I like the way you think."

A few days later, Maverick had finally recuperated enough to partake in the (joy flight) exercise. 

Rooster was right. The resulting pictures did blow his friend's minds.