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Ice sighed as he stepped through the door, set his keys in the bowl by the mirror and toed off his shoes. Today hadn’t been too stressful, though everyday felt like a long day now. Being an Admiral and also having just been in remission from cancer was a daunting task. It was never something that he wanted to voice as he was tired of everyone having to look after him. Now it was his turn to do some of the looking after, which now with Maverick and his children’s antics combined, that was certainly enough to keep him busy. It was a comfortable busy, but busy nonetheless.
“Mav,” Ice called, voice still strained after cancer and his closed tracheotomy hole. He was often scolded for talking and instead had his AAC and sign he could use, but sometimes it was a relief just to be able to trust that his voice still worked and use it like everyone else did. Maverick would scold him for it, that was for sure, but at least he knew that he could still speak.
He wasn’t surprised he didn’t get a response as although he could speak, he was hardly able to be heard. Instead, he took off down the hallway on the way to the living room and kitchen, as Maverick was more often than not in one of those places. He had taken on more of a domestic role when Ice had come down sick, and had even learned a few recipes from his Daggers. Ice wouldn’t go so far to say that he could win one of those cooking shows that they watched every night before bed, but he was certainly a hell of a lot better than he ever used to be.
Those thoughts chased Ice through the house as he continued from room to room in search of his husband. He was beginning to fully lose hope after he made a stop in the laundry room when he finally heard what could only be described as deep throated coughs coming from their bedroom. That was odd. If anyone was going to do the coughing around here, it was certainly Ice himself.
“Maverick,” Ice attempted once more, voice straining with the effort to produce any sound. When that yielded nothing yet again, he decided to find the source of the sound, steps heavy as he continued toward the bedroom.
“Esh’shoo! Esch’shoo! Echs’Shoo! Escsh’Shoo!”
Ice halted at the door and lifted his hand to knock on the frame, well aware that Maverick probably didn’t hear him as he was now doubled over in his hands, body overtaken by sneeze after sneeze. He gave a heavy snort as he rubbed his hands on his slacks, unaware that Ice was a mere couple feet away from him, watching.
“Bless you.”
Maverick’s head immediately snapped up, a sneezy expression on his face. The man was far from done, this time pulling the collar of his shirt over the lower half of his face, breath catching harshly. “Etsh’Shoo! Eschs’shoo!”
“Bless—“
Maverick held up his hand, single finger raised. Ice took that as the sign it was and halted, not so patiently waiting for Maverick to finish. Rarely was this a whole drawn out thing, unless of course he was sick that is. Then all bets were off, which made Ice all the more worried. Maverick hardly ever got sick, so any bug that would dare try and take him down would mean Maverick would be in for it.
“Etsh’Shoo! Eshs’shoo! Eshsh’shoo!” Maverick cleared his throat quickly and shook his head to clear it before he dropped the collar from his face, revealing reddened nostrils and glassy eyes. “Excuse me, sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.”
Ice opened his mouth to speak when Maverick was quick to reach over to the dresser and grabbed a nearby tablet. He immediately unplugged it before handing it over, pointing sternly at Ice to use it instead of his voice.
With a roll of his eyes, Ice quickly swiped to the right page and found the words that he was looking for while also typing in a few that weren’t readily on his display. The almost robotic voice spoke for him, certainly not with the intensity in which he wanted to speak to Maverick with.
“I looked everywhere for you. I didn’t think you would be in here.”
Maverick nodded in almost embarrassment as he rested his hands in his lap. “I thought I had more time before you got home before I started dinner sorry.”
“You don’t need to…….apologize.” Ice grimaced at the fact that ‘apologize’ was on a completely different screen than the other words in that sentence and therefore there was a gap in the speech. No matter how many times he had used his AAC over these few months, he still felt like he was behind on where he should be. There had been plenty of others on his unit that had taken this in stride and here he was, still struggling.
“I said I’d make dinner and I haven’t even started yet. I should really….” Maverick rose to his feet slowly from the bed only to momentarily stagger as darkness invaded the corners of his vision. His left palm came to press on his temple as if that would calm the feeling, at least for a few fleeting moments.
Ice nearly tossed the tablet aside as he came to Maverick’s side and took him by the shoulders to keep him upright. Maverick twisted in his grip, desperate not to face Ice, especially as his nose had started to run. After the year they had, the last thing that Ice needed to be fighting was a head cold.
“Sit,” Ice commanded, voice hardly a whisper.
Maverick slumped back to break contact with Ice, a sleeve coming up to his nose to mop up the evidence. “Don’t you dare stand that close to me,” Maverick scolded without any real venom in his voice. “Do you want to catch this?”
Ice wanted to point out that he really couldn’t care less, though he doubted that Maverick would appreciate that sentiment at the moment. He was beyond protective, especially when it came to anything with Ice and illness. The lighter haired admiral couldn’t blame him, not really, even if he didn’t actually plan to stay away from Maverick. The less the shorter pilot knew of his true intentions the better as it would cause less argument in the long run.
Knowing that Maverick would scold him if he didn’t, Ice grasped back for his AAC device and scrolled through pages until he came across the words he was looking for.
“Have you taken any medicine?”
Maverick shook his head, fist coming up to his mouth as he started to cough relatively harshly. It really wasn’t all that unlike what Ice’s coughs sounded like, which set off alarm bells in Ice’s mind. Was this how Maverick felt every time that he had a fit of his own?
The smaller pilot seemed to sense this and cleared his throat harshly, swallowing hard just in case that sensation rose inside of him once more. “It’s just a cold, nothing you need to worry about.”
Realistically, Ice knew that. It had never been serious when Maverick became ill, but that didn’t mean that it couldn’t at some point. Maverick wasn’t getting any younger and illness had the potential to hit him harder. That was always Ice’s fear, no matter if he ever voiced them aloud to his husband or not.
When Maverick’s shoulders shook with another coughing it, Ice didn’t hesitate to draw forward and lean over him to press a kiss to the top of Maverick’s head. Weakly, Maverick lifted a hand to push against Ice’s abdomen to try and push him away to no avail. Ice had lost a great deal of his strength, but worry mixed with determination was a powerful combination. He was able to feel the coolness of Maverick’s skin. No fever, which was a good sign, at least for now.
Ice only pulled away when Maverick’s breath began to catch, back of his left hand coming to rub desperately at his twitching nostrils. That was as good of a sign as ever to give Maverick space as he shot forward into cupped hands. “Esth’shoo! Eshsh’shoo!” He gasped at the sudden shift in pressure as he felt the wetness on his hands. His eyes filled with tears as he looked around desperately, nose not giving him a single reprieve as he felt the need to sneeze continuing to build. He swore under his breath for not being more prepared considering this had been happening for the last couple hours.
Relief flooded through him as a tissue box was moved closer while a few fresh squares were squeezed in between the slight space between his hands and nose. He scrambled to clean up the evidence, wincing at the soreness around his chapped nostrils as he pitched forward in the sodden folds. “Eshs’shoo! Ecsh’shoo! Eshc’shoo!”
Knowing this had the potential to be one of Maverick’s longer fits, and knowing that he’d appreciate privacy if the situation was reversed, Ice slowly backed out of the room to give his husband that space while he cleaned himself up. A sick Maverick meant comfort food, which always happened to be grilled cheese and tomato soup. It was easy enough to make especially with the canned soup they still had in the pantry. He had learned a long time ago that they didn’t need food to necessarily be fancy, so long as they could both tolerate it and enjoyed eating it, he didn’t see the harm.
He could still hear Maverick sneezing from the bedroom even as he pulled out a pot and a pan to warm up on the stove. Muscle memory took over as he grabbed the loaf of bread and cheese as well as a knife, used it to butter both sides of the bread thoroughly to give it that crisp outside that Maverick enjoyed. Although Maverick tended to burn the sandwiches often on his quest for that crisp, to which Ice hoped he could have slightly more success.
He was halfway through buttering the third slice of bread when he heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. His head turned to see Maverick seated at one of the dining room chairs that he drug into the kitchen, a surgical mask fastened over his face that almost disguised the overall sick look he had.
“I could’ve done that,” Maverick protested after clearing his throat.
Ice shot him a look.
“What? I could have! You shouldn’t be doing anything near this strenuous.”
Ice buttered another slice and set it delicately in the center of the pan, the sizzling greeting his ears as he laid the cheese on top. He managed to still give Maverick another look, words not needed to express something that they both could read without struggle.
“Babe please, let me…..” Maverick spun so fast in his chair that Ice was sure he would fall right off. The shorter man began to cough so hard that a wheeze rattled deep within his lungs. Ice immediately felt the blood drain from his face as he made his way over only to be met by Maverick’s shaky hand trying to keep him back just as he had tried to do in the bedroom earlier. “Mmm, n-no.”
Ice couldn’t respect Maverick’s boundaries, not now, and found himself sliding behind the dark haired pilot and began to alternate between rubbing and lightly thumping on his back, just as Maverick had done for him so many times before. Slowly, painfully, the fit came to a final halt. Maverick was left slumped against the back of the chair, eyelashes fluttering.
Ice was forced to momentarily abandon Maverick in favor of not burning their food, quick to give the grilled cheese a flip, wait a minute, before scooping it back with the others. He switched off the heat momentarily and veered back over to his husband, reaching out to grasp his shoulder when Maverick didn’t respond to merely brushing against him.
A gasp sounded as Maverick looked up, startled at the hand on him. The fear burned bright momentarily in his gaze before fading away, giving way to Maverick sighing lightly and giving his head a shake. “Sorry. M’a little jumpy.”
There was so much Ice wanted to say, that Maverick didn’t have to apologize for moments of fear, but his vocal cords wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he kissed Maverick’s head and returned back to their food. It took almost no time to finish plating before bringing two plates over, setting one in his usual spot, and the other in Maverick’s. Maverick eyed his listlessly, though a small smile crept on his face as he eyed the sandwich fondly.
“ Grilled cheese?”
‘Favorite’ Ice signed before pointing to Maverick. A blush crept on the younger man’s face as he looked away, disguised by a husky cough directed in his shoulder.
Ice allowed him to have a few moments of embarrassment before digging into his own meal. The gooeyness of the cheese practically melted in his mouth, complimented by the tang of the tomato soup. He was forced to let the bread melt a considerable amount in the soup before he could take a bite to save the rawness of his throat, but the taste still remained and it didn’t take long before he had polished off his entire meal. A quick look to Maverick showed that he wouldn’t have the same success.
Maverick barely picked at his food, spoon swirling in his now cooling soup. He hadn’t so much as nibbled at his sandwich, though upon seeing Ice’s worried expression, took a massive bite that nearly left him choking when he tried to swallow.
Ice huffed and reached out to pull the plate away from Maverick before he could force himself to eat anymore. His eyes narrowed in distain at Maverick’s behavior, not even needing to speak for Maverick to know Ice’s feelings on the matter.
“Normally it is my favorite. I guess I’m just not very hungry.” Maverick raised a hand to boyishly rub under his nose with a listless look crossing his face. Before Ice could react, Maverick had lifted his elbow up to his face. “Etcsh’Shoo! Ecsh’Shoo! Eschs’SHs’Shoo!”
The last sneeze was far messier than either Maverick or Ice were expecting. Maverick kept his face tucked tightly in his elbow, an even redder flush appearing high on his cheeks. Ice could see around the corners at just how messy it was and didn’t hesitate to scramble to his feet and immediately head right for the paper towels. Sure, tissues could probably work too, but for something this intense, the paper towels would probably better.
The roll was set beside Maverick with Ice pulling a few sheets and stacking them nicely before handing them over. Maverick gave the slightest nod as he turned completely around, and only then did he dare tend to his arm and nose. Ice could see the sheen under Maverick’s nostrils, and could only imagine how bad it had been before Maverick had used most of his arm to mop himself up before using the paper towels. That was something Ice probably didn’t want to know, but instead of feeling disgust, he felt pity for the sorry state of his husband.
Only once Maverick had blown his nose productively several times, rose to his feet to make a beeline for the sink, washed his hands for a good minute, did he venture anywhere near Ice. His head hung as Ice stood, forehead pressed against Ice’s shoulder as his body shook with quite sobs.
Ice willed his voice to come, instead of it being a tired croak. That seemed just too much for his body to muster. All he could do to console him was hold him close and press a light kiss to Maverick’s forehead, contagion be damned.
‘Bed’ Ice signed when he knew Maverick was looking. ‘Sleep.’
It was more of a command than a request, to which Maverick nodded in agreement. No fight, no protesting, just complete agreement. There were few times that Maverick would be this agreeable, and Ice wanted to take full advantage of it.
‘He really does just need a hug and some kindness right now,’ Ice thought to himself as he kissed Maverick on his forehead once more as the crying continued, which wasn’t doing him any favors for his congestion.
Ice kept one arm around Maverick as the two shuffled back towards the bedroom. Ice never thought there would come a day where it would be him carrying most of the weight between the two, but it seemed Maverick was going downhill fast and the last thing that he wanted was for Maverick to struggle anymore than he already was. It took a lot for Maverick to accept help of any kind no matter the circumstances surrounding it. There would be no doubt in Ice’s mind that Maverick was unlikely this pliable tomorrow and to enjoy this while it lasted.
When they arrived back at the bedroom, Ice wasted no time in setting Maverick on the side of the bed and grabbing a change of clothes for him, some that were a little more breathable as Maverick tended to run fevers at night and unless they both wanted to wake up in a pool of sweat, one of them had to be proactive.
Wrestling the clothes on Maverick took more patience than Ice felt he had in him. When he finally succeeded, he started to get himself ready for bed. He took a little more time to brush his teeth, clean around his tracheotomy scar, and take his medication. After he was changed and had checked to make sure he didn’t have any emails, he turned back to the bed to find Maverick sitting upright, breath coming in erratic pants as he looked around frightfully.
“Goose? Goose,” Maverick croaked as he instinctively reached back behind him as though fumbling for something. His hand enclosed around nothing, yet he couldn’t stop himself from making a tugging motion as though pulling on some sort of lever. “Goose, eject, eject!”
Ice was there in a moment, coming in front of Maverick and taking his hand in his own to break him free of that unfortunate loop. To his surprise, Maverick hardly reacted to Ice’s touch, eyes haunted with the memory that was overtaking him. It was though he wasn’t even there, despite planting himself right in Maverick’s line of vision.
Unable to soothe him with words like he desperately wanted to, Ice decided to take both of Maverick’s hands and pull him back toward the headrest of the bed. Maverick sniffled periodically, though other than that offered no other sound of protest. When the two came to rest on the back of the headboard, Maverick gave a violent shiver before his head lowered on Ice’s shoulder. The tears were back, which nearly always accompanied a fever. That could certainly explain Maverick’s seemingly rapid change of awareness. It had perhaps been building all day and reached a cusp once Ice came home and Maverick’s body felt it was safe enough to fully give in to the illness.
A soft whimper left Maverick’s lips, loud enough that Ice felt that familiar stirring in his own heart. He continued to hold Maverick close, needing him to know that he was there. His lips found their way to Maverick’s feverish brow once more, wishing that his lips could bring with them a coolness that would chase the fever right from Maverick’s skin. That may not be how things worked, but he could dream for Maverick’s sake.
Whatever was wrong was probably nothing more than the flu, maybe a sinus infection and strep if they let it progress without forcing Maverick to see the doctor. But, it would be something they could tackle together, that much he was sure of.
It didn’t take long for Maverick’s breathing to finally even out, albeit with some congested snores at the end. Congestion was beginning to steadily leak down his upper lip, though Ice was too worried to accidentally wake Maverick up to worry about taking care of it. So long as Maverick was finally sleeping, Ice would do anything to keep it that way. This was as quiet as things got for them, without cancer interrupting with coughing fits or memories of those lost, and Ice would be dammed if he did anything that might change that.