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He didn’t have much time to brace himself, just took a deep breath that turned to fog in the cold winter air when he exhaled and bounced on his toes in anticipation. He’d had to work himself up to knock but once it was done, there was no going back, and he didn’t have long to wait before the door swung open.
“I’m sorry, we’ve already told—“ Mav seemed extremely exasperated as he closed his eyes in frustration behind the glasses perched on his nose right up until he opened them and his gaze landed on Bradley. In an instant, he cut himself off, instead allowing his jaw to drop open as he openly gaped at his godson.
“Hey,” Bradley said awkwardly, somewhere between sheepish and standoffish.
“Bradley?” Mav questioned breathlessly, his eyes welling with tears at finally seeing the boy he had a hand in raising after nearly a decade had passed since Bradley left. Since the fight that was the catalyst for so many years of sorrow on both sides. Yet there he was, standing on his doorstep.
“Yeah,” Bradley chewed at his lip, anxiously, “It’s me, Mav.”
“Oh my god,” Mav sobbed into his hand and then launched himself forward, dragging Bradley into a fierce hug. Bradley melted into the affection he’d spent so long denying that he’d been craving since the moment he packed his bags.
“I can’t believe you’re back,” Mav spoke hoarsely, “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” Bradley drew away, his own tears streaming down his cheeks, “I’m the one who walked out!”
“I never should’ve pulled your papers behind your back, baby bird,” Mav stated firmly, “I was the adult, it was my fault and there’s no negotiating that.” Bradley knew better than to argue with that tone so he sniffled and nodded.
A sound coming from beside his feet pulled Bradley from his emotions and brought his attention back to the carrier he’d set down once he’d climbed the front steps. Mavs eyes snapped to the seat, his eyes widening with recognition before frantically whipping back and forth between Bradley and the squirming blanket at his feet.
Bradley sighed, kneeling down to pull the blanket back, revealing his daughter buckled securely into the seat of the carrier, squirming with displeasure. Not yet crying, but making unhappy sounds that indicated she would soon if something wasn’t done first. He pulled her from her seat, cradling her gently against his chest.
“You have a baby?” Mav asked, his tone delicate in a way that Bradley knew, from years of experience, as Mav’s tone of voice when he was masking a mess of conflicted feelings.
“Yes,” Bradley admitted, standing back to his full height with Nicole’s face tucked into his neck, “That’s…part of why I came home.”
“But not all?” Mav leaned in the doorway, his eyes never leaving the eight-month-old in his arms.
“No,” Bradley once again admitted, “I missed you both a lot, Nic was just the last push I needed to actually come home.”
“Nic?” Mav’s eyes finally turned back to Bradley’s face, his expression a mixture of pure heartbreak and happiness as a single tear slid past his lash line and down his face.
“Nicole,” he clarified, “Her mom picked it, ironically enough,” Bradley chuckled.
“Where is her mom?” Mav’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Uh…” Bradley hesitated, “She had some complications from giving birth and she…didn’t make it,” he swiped at his nose, swallowing back the emotion.
“Oh, baby bird,” Mav covered his mouth in shock, “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah,” Bradley pursed his lips, “So am I.”
“Come in, Bradley, please,” Mav finally stepped aside, making a sweeping motion with his arm to welcome Bradley and his daughter’s presence. He stooped down to pick up Nicole’s carrier since Bradley’s hands were full with the baby in his arms and the backpack slung over his shoulder.
“Um,” Mav cleared his throat awkwardly as he led Bradley to the kitchen he grew up in, “Ice is taking a nap right now and I’d rather not wake him, but he’ll be glad to see you once he does.”
Bradley was puzzled by this and so asked, “A nap? Since when has Ice ever been the type to nap?” He chuckled a little at the absurd thought of the workaholic of their family ever taking the time to rest during daylight hours.
Mav crossed his arms sheepishly, chewing at his lip. Bradley knew something was wrong from the way Mav refused to meet his eyes, so he prompted, “Mav?”
“Ever since the diagnosis, he’s been napping quite a lot,” Mav confessed quietly, making Bradley’s eyes widen. And before Bradley could find the words to question what had gotten to his third father figure, Mav concluded his statement by saying, “You, of all people, should know how much of a toll chemotherapy takes on the body.”
Mav met his eyes firmly that time, his gaze remorseful and unbearably sad, but sure. Reassuring. Bradley’s mouth dropped open for a moment as he searched for the words.
“Cancer?” He finally found, his voice cracking high like it used to when he was a young teen boy, only this time it was due to emotion and not puberty, “Ice has cancer?”
Mav solemnly nodded his confirmation, apology in his eyes, “Throat,” he chuckled, though it turned watery as his eyes flooded with tears, “I always told him those damn cigarettes would kill him one day,” his voice crackled around the words, wincing high over the peaks and wavering around the tears in his throat as he cupped a hand over his mouth, silently sobbing with something Bradley could tell he’d been denying himself the right to feel.
Bradley stepped forward and yanked Mav into his side, letting him cry for what seemed like the first time in a long while. He pressed his lips to Mav’s hair gently, his heart aching at the sound of Mav’s body-wracking cries, and he whispered, “I’m here now, and I’ve got you, Dad.”