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Jake never expects to hear back from the state adoption agency. He knows the folder for his case must be embarrassingly wide given the bumpy path he managed to carve out for himself during childhood, but he doesn't think that they have any more information than what's already on the birth certificate he has tucked away, which is nothing.
If he wasn't in the Navy, Jake thinks he'd be less intimidated. But finding out that the Commander of the Pacific Fleet is his father makes him feel like he's setting himself up for failure, or at the very least, setting Admiral Kazansky up for embarrassment.
He doesn't like either option.
But he can’t just not reach out, especially since the agency has already informed Kazansky that Jake’s inquired into his existence. Which doesn’t seem fair at all, but Jake didn’t write the policy. He just has to deal with the fallout.
The fact that no one followed up with Kazansky after his birth mother mentioned him once is barely a footnote in the file. Apparently he had been deployed and no one had ever gotten around to it after the fact.
Typical.
Sorry to bother you.
I just wanted you to know that I exist.
I'm sorry I won't be able to meet you because because because.
Are you as pissed as I am?
What the hell, man?
Thanks for letting me know you're real
“So the letter writing is going well?” Javy peers over his shoulder, looking at the pile of scratched-out drafts and crumbled up papers.
Jake groans and lets his head fall down on the table. He feels his best friend gently lift his head back up for him.
“Come on, I brought you a snack.” Javy sits down across from him and pushes an apple across to Jake.
“Fruit?”
“Sorry, the cafeteria was all out of brownies,” Javy jokes.
Jake eyes the apple and only picks it up so he can stop glaring at the letters in front of him. He takes a bite out of it and chews as he pushes aside the papers that he’ll need to trash.
“What do you even say to the father you have no intention of meeting?” Jake murmurs.
“Fuck if I know,” Javy says, not unsympathetically, but just as lost as Jake.
“Great, thank you so much. For the snack and the wisdom.”
“You’re so welcome.”
Admiral Kazansky,
Thank you for permitting the agency to grant me the file with your information. I appreciate that it’s no longer a mystery in my life.
You don’t have to worry about meeting me. Given what the agency has told me, that’s not something you’re open to regardless, but I just wanted to acknowledge your kindness in this situation, especially reading the transference of family medical history. I'm particularly glad to know that you're currently in remission.
If you do wish to write back, this address is one that I’m able to check when I’m back from my traveling for work, but I swear I do not expect anything more from you.
Thank you,
Jake
Just Jake. No Seresin. No rank. His return address just a P.O. Box that Jake keeps near the base they ship out of.
Nothing that would indicate to one of the most powerful men on the West Coast that Jake is currently under his command.
Far, far under his command.
Jake,
I want to dissuade you of any notion that I don’t want to meet you. I would be honored to meet you, and if you wish, form a relationship. I can only assume that the state adoption agency’s standard paperwork included that as a default in a closed file. Personally, I'm not in the mood to extend them any grace, considering their actions, or lack thereof. I’m sorry that they made you think otherwise.
Safe travels and I hope your work goes smoothly. I too travel for my position and it can get tiring. I hope that you have a place to rest when you’re able.
If you’re at all interested in meeting, perhaps we can set something up upon your return. But if you need anything at all, this is my number. I implore you to use it for anything, regardless of time of day.
Also, I realize this might be asking too much, but may I continue writing to you? I understand you might not be able to receive or send letters while traveling. Perhaps e-mail if you’re amenable to it?
Please don’t feel pressured to answer me right away. Take your time and whatever you decide, I’ll respect it. I am grateful to even just know of you.
Tom Kazansky
Writing sounds nice.
Jake feels a little embarrassed by how much he really wants it. He kind of wants to hear everything his dad has to say to him, but the idea of writing the man back makes him freeze up. He doesn’t want to give the guy his Navy contact information or his email that would identify him immediately.
But the idea of Admiral Kazansky’s letters piling up in Jake’s P.O. box doesn’t feel great either. Jake’s fingers twitch, already itching to open letters that don’t exist just yet.
Please don’t feel pressured to answer me right away. Take your time and whatever you decide, I’ll respect it.
Well, Jake hope that the man means it, because he definitely plans to take his time.
But he thinks about what he would say to Admiral Kazansky in return. What he could say without revealing that he’s in the Navy. Not his accomplishments, surely, not his goals.
Maybe Jake could talk about how he wants a cat but he travels too much to take care of one. How he is getting his masters and is only four credits away.
Again, those might both be too close. Sure, there’s plenty of jobs that require travel and masters degrees, but the Admiral must have a lot of resources at his disposal. What if Jake slips up and the Admiral finds out?
It takes Jake the whole three weeks before they ship out again to write back to Admiral Kazansky telling him that he can write to Jake’s P.O. box and Jake will receive the letters when he returns.
But he doesn’t commit to writing back himself. In fact, he doesn’t mention it at all. Just thanks Admiral Kazansky for his kindness and his contact information and says that he’ll read his letters when he’s able.
He hopes the man is telling the truth about not minding whatever Jake decides. He seems honest enough in his letter, but Jake can’t really count on that. Maybe if they met face-to-face, Jake would be able to really read his expressions, but judging by the footage he’s seen of Admiral Kazansky, the man has a pretty good poker face, so maybe not.
Still, the man gave Jake his personal cell phone number.
He has nothing to lose by putting it in his own phone.
It’s just the question of what name to put it under.
Admiral Kazansky could raise questions if someone sees the number in his contacts.
Certainly not Dad. That would be a recipe for disaster. Also, just because the man offered to meet Jake doesn’t mean he wants some random guy calling him that.
Jake doesn’t want to call him that either. Not yet. It’s an earned title.
Though, even just with one heartfelt letter, it’s tempting. Jake knows that Admiral Kazansky knew nothing about Jake's existence until now. He could have never saved him, but it certainly seems like this is a man who would have tried.
Tom Kazansky also is too strange. Maybe Iceman, going back to the man’s old callsign, but both options seem too close if anyone on deployment picks up his phone.
In the end, Jake decides on the shortened of the callsign.
Ice.
Easy. Simple. It could be passed off as an inside-joke, or even a fridge or HVAC company.
That's Jake's mistake.
Well, that is Jake's first mistake.
The second mistake is having a craving for udon when he’s back stateside, having completed the uranium mission with his new squad.
With all the commotion around the Daggers becoming permanent, Jake hasn’t let himself read any of the letters he’s pulled out of his P.O. box. They’re just sitting on the kitchen table in his and Javy’s shared housing.
Still, they’re on his mind as he heads to meet the squad for lunch.
However, he’s not too distracted to not notice traffic signals.
Whoever is in the BMW driving the opposite way can’t say the same.
“Hello, I’m calling from Hillcrest Medical Center. We have you as the emergency contact for one of our patients."
“What?" Ice says faintly.
Mav has just gotten off the phone with Bradley, his first thought. It couldn't be their kid. Not unless the accident and ambulance ride all took under five minutes.
“Yes, according to his identification, this is Lieutenant Jacob Seresin. You’re in his phone as his ICE.”
“Lieutenant Jacob Seresin,” Ice repeats, confused. He looks over at Mav, who has already perked up at the name.
“Jake?” Mav repeats, stepping closer, gesturing for the phone. Obeying, Ice puts the call on speaker.
“Jake? Jake,” Ice says the name another time for good measure as the pieces come together.
“Jake,” the nurse confirms. “We apologize for taking so long to call. He’s through surgery now and he is going to be just fine.”
“Surgery?” Ice knows he must sound completely confused, but the nurse seems used to it.
“Yes, for his wrist. He was in a car accident," She tells him kindly. "He really is going to be fine, I promise."
“And what hospital is this again?” Ice asks but it comes out as a croak. Mav frowns and takes Ice's glass of water off the coffee table, ready to hand it to him. Ice waves him off.
“Hillcrest Medical Center.”
“We’ll be there as soon as we can," he says, meeting Mav's eyes. He knows exactly how fast that means to Mav.
“Thank you, sir. Fifth floor when you arrive. Room 509. You can check in and they'll direct you."
“Got it.” Ice ends the call without looking away from Mav.
"How does the hell does Hangman have your personal number?"
“I think I have an idea," Ice murmurs. The two of them get off the couch in sync, Mav immediately grabbing a set of car keys off one of the hooks by the door. "Jake. Not Hangman."
“Jake?” Mav repeats, realizing what Ice is sounding out. "Your Jake and my Jake?"
"Same Jake, I'm pretty sure." Ice is actually almost positive but he can imagine the scenario.
It's not the first time this has happened to him, weirdly enough. Hospitals see a shortened version of his callsign for a patient without any records and make the assumption. It hasn't happened in a long while though, not since most people have password protected their phones. It does make him wonder how they got to this point with Jake then.
“He hasn’t written you back yet." Mav points out and Ice can see him going over the same timeline in his head.
“I don’t think he would have had the time if he was recalled for a mission and then got busy setting up with a new squad.”
Mav hums, not agreeing or disagreeing. It's unsurprising, because Ice knows his husband. Mav thinks Ice should always be first priority. But the kid hadn't even thought Ice was going to want to meet him. And if Ice had known Jake existed he would have...
Well, his life would have been very different. That's all.
He tries not to dwell on that though. He knows that it's not healthy.
Even if sometimes he thinks about how his son and Bradley could have been raised together. He wonders how they would have done with bunkbeds.
Ice never has had an image in his head of his Jake. Just a faceless blond boy, raising his arms and asking to get picked up.
He tries to remember what Hangman Jake looks like but can only bring up a black and white file image that must have been taken years ago.
It is strange to think that he only has until Mav gets them to the hospital to wonder what his son looks like. His energy isn't hard to read, not for his partner of thirty years, which is exactly why Mav uses the hospital's valet parking instead of pulling them into the parking garage.
"Big spender," Ice teases, but it comes out wrong and he follows Mav to the visitors desk to get their badges. He already has his own ID and Ice's in hand to slid under the plexiglass window.
"I figured you shouldn't have to wait any longer," Mav says seriously.
"Thank you."
For using valet. For remembering my wallet. For being here.
Ice doesn't feel like Admiral Kazansky right now. He feels like Bradley's Icepops who got called to the school when his kid was stuck in the nurse's office or Sarah's big brother when he picked her up after a disaster of a junior prom.
Room 509 is easy enough to find and Ice doesn't stop walking. He doesn't knock, even though he knows that he should.
"Oh," Mav breathes, coming to a stop right behind Ice. "That's Hangman all right."
"Yes..." is all Ice manages to get out.
His son is in a hospital bed in front of him, monitor steadily beeping and an arm wrapped in bandages, waiting for a decrease in swelling before a cast can be put on it.
Later, Ice will hear all the arguments about how they have similar features and personality quirks and flying aggression.
But all Ice feels now is love. Overwhelming love for the young man in front of him.
"Your Jake and my Jake," Mav says again in awe.
"Our Jake," Ice says, so quiet that Mav barely hears it.
"If he wants," Mav agrees, hope evident in his voice.
Ice remembers carefully penning his phone number to complete the letter he sent to his son. He never heard back after that last letter before what he now knows was Jake's deployment that had been cut short. He hadn’t expected to, not since his son mentioned traveling for work. He supposes that that’s one way to describe a deployment.
There's a kind of jolt in Ice’s heart, that maybe Jake planned on responding to him, but hadn’t checked his P.O. box yet.
But he had told his son that if he needed anything at all, he only had to call and Ice would be there.
This is definitely not how either of them anticipated meeting.
A groggy Jake notices Mav first and blinks at him. Ice isn't sure if Jake is more confused about his own hospital stay or the fact that Mav is in his room.
"Mav? Why are you here?"
"Still listed as your CO," Mav says, far too quickly, and everyone in the room knows it, even the one who just came out of surgery.
Jake’s eyes immediately narrow and Ice can barely hear as Mav curses himself under his breath. His comment had been a gamble and Jake saw right through it.
“They didn't call Javy?"
For someone still coming off of anesthesia, Jake is remarkably aware of his surroundings.
"Ah, you're too sharp for me, kid," Mav murmurs, coming up around the side of his bed and making himself at home in the chair there “They went through your phone found your emergency contact.”
That gets Jake and his eyebrows furrow, trying to put Mav's words in order so they make sense to him.
“What?” He eventually says, once his brain won't let him solve Mav's riddle.
Instead of answering, Mav turns his head and looks towards the door, where Ice is still standing. It's obvious in Jake's expression the second he recognizes the admiral.
"Hi," Jake says dumbly.
"Jake, this is my husband, Tom."
“Husband. Tom," Jake repeats, dragging the name out. He glances up at his monitor which is beeping. “Right.”
“You might know him by another name.”
“You think?” Jake shoots back and Mav doesn't take the bait.
“No, I’m not talking about Admiral Kazansky. I’m talking about Iceman. Ice,” Mav says gently, unable to stop himself from smiling.
It’s been years together and Mav still loves using his callsign. He loves his husband Tom and his husband Ice.
"Do you know what Ice stands for when people see it in someone's phone after an accident?" Mav asks it like it's a simple question, and it is, until Jake's eyes widen.
"Fuck."
Jake's heart monitor kicks up as his thoughts swirl and settle into realization.
"In Case of Emergency," he answers Mav in a blank tone. “ICE.”
"That's right."
Jake doesn’t look at Ice. In fact, he hasn’t looked back at Ice since he recognized him.
"I'm so sorry. Jesus. You can go. I'm up. I'll call Javy. Christ"—
"Jake, we're already here now," Mav tries to placate him.
"You shouldn't be," Jake doesn't snap at them, but it's close. "I don't know why I even plugged it into my phone. I just thought..."
"In case of emergency," Ice offers with a smile. He hopes it's conveying all he needs it to. This isn't Lieutenant Seresin. This is Jake, his son. "It is why I gave it to you after all."
“Not for this,” Jake says without thinking, shaking the arm with the wrappings on it and then looking like he immediately regrets the action.
“Yes for this!” Mav argues. "Coyote is across the country on leave still and we're here."
"Mav."
Just one word said with such gravitas and Mav stops talking. He doesn't look pleased about it, but he does it anyway and looks to Ice.
His voice is warm and calm. Jake watches him like he's a bomb about to explode, but personally, Ice thinks that they're already in the aftermath.
“I know you didn’t mean for this to happen, but we’re here now. If you’re okay with this, I’d like us to stay. You’re not an imposition or a bother. We’re not too busy for this.”
We’re not too busy for you, is what he hopes Jake hears.
He’s not too sure if Jake believes it, but he’s sinks back into the pillows, not ready to fight about it. Ice will take that reaction for now.
“Okay. But I need to call Javy anyway. And Bradley,” he says to Mav.
“Bradley?”
“I was supposed to meet him and the rest of the squad for lunch. Whoever didn’t travel on leave.”
“You rest, we’ll call the kids for you," Mav compromises.
"It's not like I can go anywhere." Jake lifts his both arms, more gently this time, and the IV tubes go with him.
Mav excuses himself out to the hallway and Jake watches him go. His eyes linger on the door for too long and Ice wonders if it's just to buy himself time so Jake doesn't have to address the admiral-shaped elephant in the room on his own.
“Does anyone else know?” Ice asks quietly. "Mav won't tell Bradley unless you want him to."
“Javy knows I’ve written my dad. He doesn’t know it’s you." Jake's voice is quiet and he's tracing a finger around his IV port.
Ice wants to say that Jake can tell whoever he wants. If it is a choice between privacy and his son, he will take Jake every time. He suspects that might be coming on too strong.
“I didn’t know how to tell him yet. Not without it becoming a whole thing.” Jake waves his good hand over his head.
Ice decides to take the chance and steps into the space Mav vacated. He sits only in the hopes of making himself less intimidating. Though, judging how Jake freezes at his closeness, he thinks it might have hurt more than helped.
“Jake, please listen when I say this," Ice starts slow, his voice low and just for his son. "I don’t care who finds out. I would be honored to be connected to you. I already am. You could quit the Navy and decide to go a whole other direction with your life and I'd be here. If you never want to talk to me again, I will still be proud to be your father. I’m sorry, but that is one thing you cannot stop."
Ice tries to inject some levity into his tone as he finishes and he thinks it works. Jake finally looks at him, at least, his mouth agape and a single helpless laugh escaping him.
“He’s stubborn. I’m guessing it’s where you get it from.”
Jake glares at Mav, who is back in the doorway and holding his hands up.
"Thanks, Mav," Ice says dryly. He hears another huff out of Jake. When he looks back at his son, Jake is staring back down at his wrist.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t write back to you yet," Jake says without looking at Ice. "Or give you my email. I didn’t want to give you my contact info for the carrier.”
Jake says it so formally. It reminds Ice of their first letter.
He kind of hates it.
This isn’t the Jake he’s heard of from Mav and Bradley, or even from Cyclone.
He tries to remind himself that Jake is going to need time. He just hopes that he’ll be allowed to stick around to see it.
“I suppose that would have given it away," Ice says understandingly.
“And then I also don’t…” Jake looks at Mav for this one. “Your whole thing with Bradley. I know you two just started talking again. I didn’t want to ruin that.”
“I always thought Bradley would do well with a sibling, actually,” Ice tells him, partially a joke, partially the truth. He can’t help the tiny smirk that quirks his lips and he wonders if Jake inherited the same kind of facial expressions. He gets a genuine laugh out of Jake for his troubles.
“They already act like it,” Mav murmurs.
“Sorry, I’m”— A yawn cuts Jake off and Ice takes a chance. He covers one of Jake’s hands with his own.
“Don’t apologize for that. Get some rest and we’ll be here,” he promises.
If Jake tries to fight his own exhaustion, it doesn’t show. He watches Ice and Mav for a few seconds longer before nodding and closing his eyes. He doesn’t move his hand though, and Ice keeps his on top of Jake’s uninjured hand, not wanting to break the connection.
Mav goes back to his seat and raises his eyebrows at Ice, as if to say “Well?”
"I have a son," Ice says in awe.
"And he's one of the best pilots in the Navy." Mav shakes his head, wondrous.
"Well, of course he is."
“Typical,” Mav says, but it’s full of fondness.
"If I had known, Mav. If I had—“ Ice stops to take a breath. “I would have”— He doesn’t even know where he’s going with this train of thought. He hasn’t felt so scattered since the first day, all those months ago, when the adoption agency contacted him.
"I know, Ice. I know.” His husband tries to soothe him, but it’s no use. Especially because he knows how Mav grew up. He doesn’t know much about Jake’s background yet, but he tries to tell himself that it’s no use fighting ghosts.
"But he doesn't believe me."
"Well, you're going to tell him. Again and again. He'll learn,” Mav says confidently. “He and Bradley can commiserate over how embarrassing you get when you're proud of someone."
His tone is teasing and Ice gladly takes the bait, falling into the game.
"Is that something that you and Bradley talk about?" Ice asks expectantly.
"Of course not, dear."
"Hmm."
"Hi." Jake's voice is rough and quiet. He tries to sit up in his hospital bed before giving up and just resting back against the pillows.
Ice takes off his reading glasses and sets aside the paperwork he had been reading, giving Jake his full attention.
"Good afternoon." Ice smiles at him. The nurses had been through a few times to check on his vitals and so far, everything looked good. Jake will be able to get his cast on soon and then they would send him off.
"You're still here."
"Mmhmm." Ice murmurs, keeping his voice down. “Bradley is en route. We told him to leave the rest of the kids back on base. Didn’t want them to crowd you at all, but they insisted on some kind of proof of life and didn’t trust Mav.”
“They’re a good group," Jake murmurs, turning his head so he can face Ice as much as he can without shifting in the bed.
“Mav wouldn’t have stuck around otherwise," Ice says confidently. “And I’m glad you’re going to as well.”
“Me too,” Jake says, exhaustion heavy. “I have a couple letters to answer, I think.”
Ice feels his heart jump at Jake's words. Thank god he isn't the one attached to a monitor.
“Take your time. I’m looking forward to it. We also can skip the letters entirely," he offers. "Mav is already planning on trying to take you home."
"Home?"
"You can recover in your base housing well enough, but Mav makes great barbecue and we have the space."
Please, please stay with us, Ice tries not to say aloud. He doesn't think it works though. He thinks that is for the best though. He wants Jake to see how much they want him around, in general yes, but also during the healing process.
"Can I ask..."
How I can convince you? What about me made you not want to meet me? What did I do wrong? What can I do to make you believe me?
Jake laughs hollowly and Ice wishes he hadn’t even begun to ask the question.
Because of course it’s not about Ice or Jake. It's about Admiral Kazansky and Hangman. A father who never knew it and a kid who had no one.
Against his better judgment, Ice keeps talking.
"I cannot imagine making a life for myself and then finding out that my father is some kind of...I don't even know." Ice doesn't want to apologize for the life he has. He earned every bit of it, but that doesn't mean he can't see the gravity of the situation.
"Untouchable," Jake supplies helpfully.
"That," Ice says mournfully.
“It wasn’t just you,” Jake tells him with a sigh. "I was always going to protect myself, regardless of what the adoption agency told me.”
“You and Mav are going to get along too well.” At Jake’s questioning look, Ice answers, “He grew up in foster care.”
“How long have you been together?” Jake asks curiously. Ice thinks it's a distraction technique, but he figures that Jake has earned it.
“Almost three decades," Ice says with pride. Thirty whole years of love and determination. Ups and downs and messes and far too many miles.
“Right…I should have guessed that.” Jake gestures towards himself.
“Jake, if I had known. If anyone would have even suggested to me that I had a kid, I would have”—
“Please.” Jake's voice, the strained plea stops Ice from talking.
“Okay.”
Ice thinks of something else to say, going through all the things he already said to Jake in his letters. Then he thinks of what just happened while Jake was resting.
Ice, unbelievably, feels his cheeks go pink, and he knows he looks embarrassed. He doesn't try to hide it; his son deserves vulnerability.
Jake clocks it immediately and tilts his head to the side, waiting for an explanation.
“You know, Mav had to stop me from calling my assistant and asking him to pull your file. He said I should hear it all from you. And nothing about the Navy." Ice gives Jake a shrug. "He's right."
“I don’t know where to start," Jake admits. "It's why I didn't want to write you back right away."
“We’ll figure it out," Ice promises, and he thinks Jake believes him.
“Sounds good to me.”
Jake closes his eyes and Ice just...talks. About Mav and their life together. How they own a hanger and Jake and Bradley can flip a coin to see which one will backseat for Mav first.
All through his steadfast recountings, Jake is smiling, even when his eyes remain closed.
Ice can't wait to get him onto their couch. A kid on either side of him. Bradley's snoring on his left and Jake curled up next to him on his right.
Maybe he's getting ahead of himself, but a guy can dream.
Ice hears Mav and Bradley coming down the hallway long before he sees them. He chuckles at the stinkeye Jake sends to the door at their noise.
“Better get used to that.”
Bradley gets to the door before Jake can respond to Ice. His arms are crossed over his chest and he's a mix of worried and furious that Ice knows came from Carole.
“You know, if you didn’t want to meet us for lunch, you could have just said.”
“It was my idea, asshole," Jake shoots back.
Bradley drops his arms and closes the distance to take the chair on the opposite side of Jake's bed.
“You okay?”
“I will be.” Jake gestures his chin towards his wrist. "Everyone else stayed back?”
“Somewhat. Got a few still in the car.”
“We said”— Mav's exasperated tone is one that is becoming more and more familiar the longer that he works with the Daggers.
“You said,” Bradley cuts him off to correct him. “Sorry, Dad, but you’ve got a bunch of bonded cats now.”
He turns back to Jake and rolls his eyes, making sure Mav sees it.
“We didn’t want to completely crowd you but Dad didn't give us a ton of info."
"He's fine, I promise," Ice says. "But maybe don't get the other Daggers just yet."
“What are you two even doing here?” Bradley asks, as if he's just now realizing that both Ice and Mav are in Jake's hospital room. He looks from Mav to Ice and then to Jake, waiting for an answer.
Ice knows he has a glint of mischief in his eyes and it's probably not what Jake would have ever expected from the Admiral. Not as the COMPACFLT or what he thought his father would be like.
Jake gives the tiniest nod and Ice's smile grows, and it's all aimed at Jake.
“Bradley, you know how you always wanted a younger brother?” Ice's tone is serious, and a little patronizing, as if he's talking to five year old Bradley and not the actual thirty-five year old in front of him.
Bradley's staring becomes more frantic, his eyes widening.
"Oh my god.” His attention flicks back and forth between Jake and Ice, cataloging every detail just like Ice has been doing since they got to the hospital. "The son you were writing to?"
Jake waves his immobilized wrist at Bradley.
"Holy shit."
To Jake's surprise, Bradley beams at him, as big as Mav's smile from earlier.
“No kidding," Bradley says in awe. “But how…”
“I put him in my phone under Ice," Jake says. He doesn't sound embarrassed, but Ice can't quite clock his tone.
“Oh shit. What are”—
Mav clasps Bradley's shoulder.
“We don't have to figure anything out just yet. We’re doing this one day at a time.”
Bradley seems to take that seriously, but it doesn't stop him from talking.
“Are you allergic to kiwis too?” Bradley asks, holding the question with far more weight than necessary.
Jake squints at him, eyes narrowed in annoyance, but the mask doesn't stay up for long. Eventually, his shoulders drop as he admits, "Yeah, I am.”
“More fruit salad for me and Mav.”
“Asshole,” Jake says again, but he’s got a grin on his face.
Maybe Mav had been onto something with that sibling bickering comment. He gives his husband a look, trying to convey all that in a single expression. The perk of being together for thirty years means that Ice is pretty sure he got his point across.
They’re going to be okay. They’ll figure this out together, as a family.
Mav presses send on the message. It's a photo of Jake headed to the Flyboys groupchat with a caption that says, "Stork got lost for 30 years, but congrats to Ice! It's a boy!"
It's a sweet photo. Jake is sitting cross-legged and wearing a Navy hoodie. The cast for his broken wrist is visible, but it’s covered in grease. Ice is next to him, pointing up at something in the P-51 engine that Jake's able to see from the ground.
Mav is going to hang it up next to the other printed photos. He can't wait to start a new collection.
Wolf's reply comes in first. Then they're really off to the races. Mav expected nothing less.
Wolf: Is it also a naval aviator?
Slider: Turns out that's genetic
Merlin: Don't call him an 'it'
Wood: Wait, is that Hangman?
Sundown: Jesus, we should have known