Chapter Text
February 2, 2020
It was something that he didn’t ever see coming.
To Maverick, the Metcalf family was awe-inspiring when it came to staying healthy and fit. Viper and Mary, since a young age, were physically strong and had a great health bill throughout their whole lives. Mary, from the stories she shared with Maverick in his youth, was a softball player since the age of eight. She played all the way to high school, becoming a multi-time state champion. She didn’t play past that, opting to seek higher education.
Viper, besides being in the military since the age of eighteen, had played football in his childhood, only stopping to focus on becoming a Naval Aviator. They were both well-versed in fitness and were pretty well off for being shy of seventy.
“Everyone still up for dinner tonight?” Payback said to the group—all thirteen of them plus Iceman.
“Of course,” Hangman replied. “Wouldn’t miss a chance to eat some kick-ass Mexican food.”
“What time are we meeting there? I’ve heard at least three different answers,” Rooster asked. Payback shrugged, turning to Fanboy questioningly.
Fanboy shrugged back. “How about 6:30? Since we got off…surprisingly early today…that’s about an hour and a half from now.”
“Sweet.” Phoenix nodded, beginning to walk to her car. “See y’all soon.”
“See you,” Maverick called out as she walked away. He began to walk to his motorcycle when Hangman sped up to walk alongside him.
“Mav, you wanna ride together?” Hangman asked him. “Save some gas, or whatever.”
“You just want to stay over tonight, huh?” Maverick joked.
“The guy wants to be with the pretty boy; is that a crime?”
Maverick shook his head as he looked at the ground, his face turning a pinkish color. “Yes, we can ride together. And yes, you can stay over tonight. You don’t really have to ask anymore—I kinda feel like we’re past that.”
“Sweet!” Hangman cheered, pumping his fist. “I’m never leaving now, you fucked up big time.”
“Oh yeah,” Maverick rolled his eyes jokingly. “Major mistake on my part. Go home, you buffoon.”
After a few minutes of idling around his bike, everyone was gone from the parking lot. Maverick sighed happily in the silence and hopped on his bike, ready to set off to his housing. However, right before he turned the engine on, he felt a buzzing in his pocket.
Pulling out his phone and reading the caller ID, he quickly accepted, holding the phone to his ear.
“Hey Viper, what’s up?” Maverick was curious about the call, since Viper is usually too busy to call this time of day, dealing with last-minute tasks for the day as the Commander of the Pacific Fleet. If he does have anything to say to him, it’s usually through a text.
“Hey, Pete. What’re you doing right now?”
Maverick’s brow furrowed at the tone in his dad’s voice. It almost sounded defeated in some way. He tried to shake off the feeling of something being wrong and answered carefully. “Just about to leave Fallon, why?”
“You know how Mary’s been feeling a bit under the weather lately?”
“Yeah…”
“She kept taking the cold and flu medicine, but she just had this awful cough that wasn’t going away, so she went to the doctors to try and figure it out. None of the tests are coming back positive, so they have this idea that it’s that new virus from China.”
Oh. Well, that wasn’t too bad; he was expecting worse.
“What, that Coronavirus stuff? Yeah, I heard about it on the news the other day. They said it’s not much different from a cold, right?”
“Yeah, but that’s not it.” The apprehension in Viper’s voice sent a chill down his spine. “They sent her in for some other tests and…well. I don’t know how to say this,” Viper choked out.
“Is—is everything okay?” Maverick asked worriedly. A sniff was heard on the other end of the line, an uncharacteristic thing for Viper. It only sent him into more of a panic.
“Pete. She has cancer.”
His heartbeat filled his ears, static replacing any background noise.
“What?” He couldn’t hear himself talk. He could barely see straight.
“It’s called Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia…I don’t know. I don’t know. With the other disease, they’re saying it doesn’t look good. I…I don’t know.”
“Do…do you need me to come to the hospital?”
“They’re sending me home right now. They said the Coronavirus is highly contagious and that I should stay home for a couple weeks and quarantine. I don’t want to get you sick in case I have it. Go home.”
“I…is there anything I can do?”
Viper let out a shaky sigh from the other end of the line. “Not now. I have to get home. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay.”
“Bye. Love you, son.”
“I love you.” As the call ended, Maverick sat back on his bike, staring into the distance. After a few minutes of empty thoughts, he took a deep breath as he started his bike and headed home.
_______
February 2, 2020
1740 hours
“Mav! …Mav? Maverick? Hello?”
Maverick slowly opened his eyes and pulled his face from where it was smashed into his pillow. The stickiness from the dried tear tracks on his cheeks made him wince as he pulled the covers off of his body. His clothes were wrinkled and sweaty from when he piled the covers on top of him and cried himself to sleep.
The pounding from his head felt all too real as he tried to bring his vision into focus. Rubbing his eyes, he took in his surroundings, trying to fight off the pounding in his head.
His keys to the motorcycle were thrown on the floor along with his father’s bomber jacket. His shoes were clumsily kicked off in front of the bedroom door, which was left ajar in his blindsided stupor. The mirror on the wall of the bathroom he could see into showed his highly disheveled hair and his bloodshot eyes.
As he slowly stood from the bed, attempting to stretch some of the soreness away, he began picking up his stuff that was strewn all over the room. Placing his keys on the bedside table and throwing the bomber jacket over one shoulder, he gradually made his way out of the room to collect his shoes.
“Hello?” Maverick violently flinched in alarm as he registered Hangman’s presence in the hallway. “Oh, sorry. It’s time to go to dinner.”
Maverick hung his head, ashamed that he had forgotten the squadron’s plans for that evening. He knew that in this state, there was no way he would be leaving the house—he felt bad that Hangman came all the way to get him just for him to bail at the last minute. “Um…” He trailed off, slowly picking up his shoes. “I don’t think I should go. Sorry.”
Hangman didn’t reply, instead Maverick heard his footsteps coming closer to the bedroom. He kept his eyes trained on the ground, not wanting him to see his state of distress. “Hey,” Hangman muttered to him gently, placing his hands on the sides of Maverick’s face. “What happened?”
Maverick tried to hold back a sniff, feeling the familiar sting behind his eyes. “I…” he trailed off, shrugging uselessly. It was too much to say out loud; like once he spoke it into existence, it was the final straw. He leaned into the touch, his head fitting under Hangman’s chin. Jake took the hint, wrapping Maverick in a hug.
Even without context, Hangman was doing his best to help. Maverick felt like at some point, he owed it to Jake to tell him—it was just too much at the moment. “I can’t do dinner right now.” Jake nodded, his hand moving to his back pocket to send a message to someone. “You can still go if you want.” He wasn’t going to ruin Hangman’s fun, because if—when—he shared the news, it would spoil any good mood.
“I’m not gonna leave,” Hangman replied, returning his hand to Maverick’s back. “You need it, it would be cruel if I did.” Maverick shrugged again, opting for no reply. What was he supposed to say to that? It was his funeral.
Funeral .
Maverick shook his head to try and quiet the blatant reminder of what could come.
“Come on, Mav.” Hangman started slowly walking them back to Maverick’s bed. “Let’s lay down.”
“I don’t think I can sleep.”
“That’s okay,” Hangman said, making sure the two of them were lying comfortably. “Wanna hear a story from flight school?”
“Sure,” Maverick answered, his voice muffled as a result of his face being tucked into Jake’s collarbone.
“So, this was when I was still new to the whole thing…”
Maverick could fall asleep to Jake’s voice any day. Don’t get it twisted, his storytelling skills aren’t subpar, but his voice was nice and calming…when he wasn’t using it to piss people off. It was not surprising when Maverick woke a couple of hours later. Jake was still awake, scrolling through his phone with no real urgency. Maverick groaned, trying to release the hold that his nap had on him.
“Good evening to you too.” Hangman grinned, shifting so Maverick could sit up properly.
“Wh’t t’me is ‘t?” Maverick slurred, fighting off the tiredness in his voice.
“Seven-thirty,” Hangman answered. “Feeling any better?” The subtle reminder of the earlier news made Maverick frown and lay back down on the bed. He sighed in distress, causing Jake to give him a concerned glance. “Do you…want to talk about it, maybe?”
“I…” he trailed off, staring at the ceiling to avoid eye contact. “It’s Mary. She has cancer.” He heard Jake’s breath hitch and his posture became stiff.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” his boyfriend replied, wrapping his arm around Maverick. “Is there anything they can do?”
Maverick couldn’t help the constant shrugging when it came to this. “It’s not just that, though. Apparently, she got that new disease, the Coronavirus one. Viper said that the doctors aren’t very hopeful,” He opened and closed his eyes repeatedly, warding off tears. “I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s okay,” Hangman replied. “We can figure it out along the way.”
“We?” Maverick asked.
“Yes, we. You guys aren’t gonna do this alone.”
___________
February 3, 2020
0900 hours
Knock.
Silence.
Knock knock.
Nothing.
Knock knock kno–
The door violently swung open, and a disgruntled Commander of the Pacific Fleet appeared on the other side. “What do you wa—oh.”
Maverick—with a raised fist—and Hangman stood at the entrance, Hangman trying to look in any other direction and Maverick staring directly at Viper, an eyebrow raised. The shorter lowered his hand back to his side. “Can we come in?”
“I’m quarantining.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” With a sigh, Viper stepped aside, letting the two Lieutenants into his not-so-humble abode.
“So, what gives?” Viper asked his son before registering Hangman’s presence. “And what’s he doing here?”
“You mean, what is my boyfriend doing here?”
“Oh. Forgot.”
“No you didn’t, you nut.”
Maverick and Hangman were sitting on one side of the dining table, Mary and Mike on the other. The atmosphere was tense and stifling—at least to Jake and his dad. His partner was trying to avoid looking the Commander of the Pacific Fleet in the eyes, opting to focus on the homemade lasagna and garlic bread.
Viper took a long, exaggerated sip from his glass of white wine. Maverick and Mary were staring at each other in disbelief at Viper’s absurd behavior. They both knew it was to rile Hangman up and make him as uncomfortable as possible. Unfortunately for them, it was working too well.
“So,” Viper said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “What is your business with my son?”
“Oh my lord,” Maverick mumbled, putting his head in his hands, trying to ward off the embarrassment.
Mary, bless her soul, tried to intervene. “Mike, stop. You’re scaring him.”
“Good. He needs to know real fear.”
Viper sighed. “Hello, Hangman.”
“Hi, sir.” Maverick looked at Hangman, trying not to grin at the sheepish look on his usually, very confident, boyfriend’s face. Deciding not to comment on it, he turned to look at the state of the Metcalf house. To give Viper credit, it wasn’t in bad shape, but still, it was unlike him. The house was usually tidy and well-kept, but the kitchen island said otherwise.
Papers were all over the marble surface, and the keys to Viper’s car were present as well. Viper’s Ray Ban aviators and iPhone, presumably dead, were almost hanging off the edge of the island. Maverick unconsciously compared it to his bedroom floor from yesterday, wincing.
“You,” he began, looking at Hangman. “His name is Viper. And you,” he turned to Viper. “Need to relax. Be nice.”
“Sir—Viper,” Hangman corrected, seeing Maverick’s unimpressed expression. “I just want to help you guys.”
“I…yeah,” Viper conceded, walking to the couch and sitting with a long sigh. “It’s been a long week.”
It was Monday.
“I know.” Maverick walked further into the house, Hangman following after closing the front door. Reaching the kitchen island, he began organizing the papers.
Military stuff.
Dagger squadron flight plans.
Hospital papers.
Admiral meeting notes—wait. Hospital papers?
Maverick was destined to always be the cat, killed by curiosity. Stopped in his tracks, he slowly took the paper out of the stack he had created, reading more into the details. It was about the possible treatment options for Mary.
Due to old age and the accompanying 2019 novel coronavirus, a good outcome is unlikely.
Oh.
He technically knew that already, but seeing it on an official document was like a punch to the gut. Usually, you hope that the doctors are just overstating so they don’t get you hopeful in case it turns sour. But knowing that the people who do this for a living, went to school for this, don’t see a good chance? It does something to you.
“You don’t know what’s good for you, taking that from me.”
Maverick turned to see Jake taking a beer bottle from his father’s grip. Despite his mood, he let out a slight grin at the exchange.
“Unfortunately, Pops, if that recycling bin means anything, it’s that you didn’t get much sleep last night.” He turned to look down at the small recycling bin next to the trash can, full of bottles. Sighing, he put the paper down on the island and walked to the couch.
“Viper, what the hell.” Taking in his dad’s appearance as he walked in front of where he was seated on the sofa, the eye bags said it all. The beer bottles weren’t even the biggest sign. “Did you even try to rest?”
“Speak for yourself,” Viper snapped. “You look like you got hit by a train. Would you like to try sleeping when your wife is in the hospital, alone, after finding out she has cancer and some unknown disease that the doctors can’t figure out how to handle?”
“I’m not saying that—” Maverick was swiftly cut off.
“No, let me go try to sleep in the giant bed that I usually sleep in with my wife. Oh, wait.” Hangman and Maverick could only watch as Viper stormed out of the living room to “try to sleep”. Way to go, Mav.
He and his boyfriend stared at each other in silence as they heard the bedroom door slam shut. Maverick calmed his shaking hands as best he could without alerting Hangman. “Sorry,” Hangman said. “Shouldn’t’ve pushed it.”
“No, you did the right thing.”
A couple of moments were spent in silence before either one made a move.
“I’m gonna call Ice.”
Maverick began walking after Viper. “Let me make sure he’s sleeping on his side.”