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Ice hates waiting rooms. The lingering smell of antiseptic and the stink of anxiety make him nauseous if he takes too deep a breath.
It's worse when they won't tell him anything. "You aren't family," the nurse had said, not unkindly, but firmly all the same. It makes him want to rip his hair out, but this isn't a military hospital, and he can't pull rank or the 'he's my wingman' excuse. Not that it would be an excuse, but it's the closest to the truth that he can publicly get.
So all he can do is sit here and wait for Carole to arrive, hoping all the while that Pete is resting and not laying awake, alone in a hospital bed.
He can't stop thinking about the crash, about the way Mav's bike is probably still hanging from the stoplight in the intersection where he'd been sent flying.
They'd just been coming back to base after a Saturday morning ride into the mountains, with Ice riding half a car-length behind Mav as they re-entered civilization. In the end, that was the only reason he hadn't been hit, too.
Instead, he'd gotten a front row seat to watching a silver sedan turn left right in front of them, cutting them off. Mav had tried to react, braking hard enough to lift his back wheel, but even a pilot's reaction time couldn't prevent this. That reaction time might be the only reason he's still alive, though. Mav had slammed into the car, and subsequently went flying over the hood and into the street across the intersection. His bike had gone flying too, up somehow, flipping end over end and snagging on the stoplight. Ice himself had barely dodged the whole mess, swerving hard around the stopped sedan and sliding out instead of risking righting himself and hitting Mav where he was laying in the street. He'd disentangled himself from his own bike and sprinted over to his side.
Fuck, Mav had only been wearing his helmet because they were doing a mountain run, and if he hadn't been- Ice didn't want to think about it. He'd been conscious, groaning as Ice reached for him, gripping his hand and trying to keep him from moving too much until they knew he hadn't hurt his neck.
Ice was glad he could hear the sirens after a few minutes, because he doesn't know that he could have made himself leave Mav's side to find a phone and call an ambulance.
They hadn't let him ride with Mav in the end, though - 'he wasn't family'. He'd had to stay and talk to the police anyway. Had to make sure the driver of that sedan didn't try to pin the accident on Mav, which he's pretty sure is exactly what was happening, judging by the tail end of the 'fucking bikers' tirade he overheard. Ice knows they had the green light, it wasn't a mistake that one aviator would make, let alone two. The sedan driver insisted he had right to turn, that they must have been speeding for him to not see them before he took the left. Except that intersection didn't have a protected left, and Ice knows they weren't speeding because they were always careful in cities where there might be clueless pedestrians around.
Ice had remained cool and calm, as if he wasn't internally tearing at the walls to get to Mav, and carefully ripped apart the driver's every attempt at an excuse. When the sheriff got a look at Ice's military ID, he'd been fully convinced to their side, it seemed. He was grateful he wasn't being held up any further, leaving his phone number with the cop in case he needed to follow up. He also made sure to take the driver's insurance details. The asshole had tried to refuse, saying he wasn't even in the crash and he wasn't giving his info without getting Mav's, but a little pressure from the cop resolved that, and then he'd been on his way to the hospital the EMT said they were heading to.
Which brings him back to this fucking waiting room. It's been so long that the sickly mint green walls are starting to turn orange from the late afternoon sun pouring through the glass doors leading to the parking lot. 'He wasn't family'. The thought rattles around in his head, barbed and poisonous. It's a sentiment he thought he'd accepted by now, understood. That they couldn't be, no matter how much they meant to each other.
But the Bradshaws are his family. They aren't scrutinized about it, because Nick and Carole are married, and no one looks twice at Bradley's bonus uncle. Ice can't help but marvel a little, at that. At the fact that Nick and Carole had looked at Mav and called him theirs, took him in and chose to love him, eyes wide open. He wonders what that might feel like, to be chosen, to be family through bonds forged by more than just accident of birth. He may never know, but he's glad Mav has that, has them.
The automatic doors slide open with a too-cheerful ding for a hospital, and Ice glances over on instinct when he sees the motion out of the periphery of his vision. And then he's suddenly standing, moving for the door as Carole rushes into the lobby, gaze wide and fearful.
"Tommy-!" she gasps, reaching for him, stalling as she looks him over, searching him for injuries. "Are you okay-? What happened?"
"I'm okay, Carole," he murmurs, and as soon as the words are out of his mouth, she's hugging him tightly.
"I heard- I heard on the radio that there's a motorcycle hanging in an intersection," she manages, pulling back to look up at him, to search his expression. "Is- was that Mav?"
"Yes," Ice answers softly, bracing himself for her horrified gasp.
"How- how is he?" she asks.
"I don't know," he says tightly. "They won't tell me."
"What-? Why-?" Carole asks, frowning.
"I'm not family," he reminds her, as gently as he can.
"That's nonsense," Carole insists, with a vehemence that surprises him. "Of course you're family, Tommy." She shakes her head once, harshly, and then grabs his arm and tugs him across the room to the front desk.
Ice is stunned enough by the declaration that he doesn't resist being dragged across the room, which he's sure makes for a sight to anyone else watching.
"We're here for Pete Mitchell?" Carole says sweetly to the nurse, and Ice is reminded that the woman could maneuver a situation as well as many admirals he knew, if not better.
"Your name and relation?" the nurse asks, glancing up at Carole, and then over at Ice again, her gaze narrowing just a touch.
"Carole Bradshaw, I'm one of his emergency contacts," she says easily.
The nurse taps away at her keyboard for a moment, before nodding. "I'll let them know you're here," she says. "Someone will be out to get you shortly."
Carole nods her thanks, pulling Ice away from the desk again and toward some of the chairs by the doors leading into the hospital.
"What happened?" she asks again, less frantically this time.
Ice shakes his head once. "Car turned left in front of us while we had the green light. Mav was just a little ahead of me, and he couldn't stop fast enough before he hit the car. I barely made it around the car, almost hit it too."
"Was he- how did his bike land up there?" she asks, feeling her way around the scary question.
"He wasn't on it at that point," Ice reassures. "He went over the hood of the car, and the bike went… up."
Carole sighs in strained relief. "Was…was he wearing his helmet?" she finally asks, her voice small.
Ice nods, and she nearly crumples in relief, lowering herself to sit in a chair with a shaky exhale.
"Okay, that's- that's good. Was he awake?" she asks.
"Yes, last I saw him he was conscious," Ice confirms.
"When was that?"
"Right before the ambulance drove off," Ice replies.
"…They wouldn't take you in the ambulance either?" she asks, with an edge to her voice.
"No," Ice answers evenly.
"I see," she says, and Ice knows danger when he hears it. She's gearing up to rain hell down on someone, or several someones.
Luckily for the nurse at the front desk, the doors open and another nurse says, "Carole Bradshaw?"
Carole stands up, smooths her skirt, and nods, stepping up. She tips her head to Ice, and he follows without question. He can tell she's ready to go down the warpath.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but I can only take family in-" he starts.
"Tommy is family," Carole replies firmly.
"Ma'am-"
"He's coming with me. If Pete himself says that Tommy isn't family, then we can talk."
"Ma'am that's not-" the nurse tries.
"Has Pete said he isn't family?" Carole challenges.
"I- no…he's only been asking for ice," the nurse sighs.
Ice stiffens, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
"Not 'ice', 'Ice'," Carole corrects. When the nurse just looks at her like she's also confused, she gestures to Ice. "His callsign is Iceman," she explains. "They're pilots. He's his family."
The nurse seems to decide that the headache will be easier to deal with if he just lets it slide, and he sighs, stepping aside and guiding them into the ER.
"Thank you very much, sir," Carole says, perfectly polite and pleasant once more. "How is he doing?"
"He's awake," the nurse says, leading the way to where Mav must be. "He's broken a few bones, but none of his injuries are life-threatening."
Ice feels the relief punch straight through his ribs, and he can't help the quiet sigh as the fear starts to leech out of him, little by little.
Carole reaches for his arm, squeezing lightly, as they walk.
The nurse stops by one of the doors, knocking once before opening it. "He needs his rest. A doctor will be by shortly to fill you in," he says, waiting for them to step in before closing the door behind them.
And there he is- looking small and beat to hell, but there. Awake, alive.
"Ice-?" Mav croaks, and he starts moving, trying to sit up.
"Hey- hey, just- stay still, Mav," Ice pleads, crossing the room quickly to keep him from injuring himself further.
"Are you okay?" Maverick asks, his gaze flicking all over him, searching for injuries like Carole had.
"I'm alright, Mav. You were the only one that got hit," he reassures.
"What- were they keeping you?" he asks, his brow crinkling in confusion.
"No, I was stuck in the waiting room," Ice sighs.
"They didn't believe he was family," Carole sniffs, like the thought is patently ridiculous.
Like it's that simple.
And maybe it is. Maybe it couldn't ever be public, but everyone who mattered knew the truth of it. Knew that Mav was important to him.
"I've been asking them about you this whole time," Mav grumbles.
"They thought you wanted ice packs," Ice replies drily.
Maverick snorts a laugh, and then winces as that apparently hurts something. "No wonder they kept bringing me more. I couldn't figure out what they wanted me to do with them. We need to get you a new callsign."
"No," Ice replies, categorically denying the very thought. "It's not my fault you kept asking for Ice and not Iceman. Or, you know, my name," he points out.
Maverick shrugs, one-shouldered, but he looks relieved to be looking at Ice. "Luckily we had Carole to fight for you," he says, smiling over at her too.
"I'll always fight for my boys," Carole says, and she squeezes Ice's arm tightly, very explicitly including him.
He- he never expected that. Never thought that he might get to call them family too.
It's a good feeling. Warm. He holds onto it in quiet awe and feels, for the first time in hours, that it might all be okay.
