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In the last thirty years Iceman has lost track of the multitude of times he's had to save Maverick’s ass from some pissed off Admiral, or at times, senators. It might as well be in his job description: manage the entirety of the pacific fleet and cover for Maverick in between.
In the last thirty years, those calls to save his ass, while it slows down, the gravity of them only worsens. It’s almost like Maverick still believes that he has nothing left to lose. Like the ring on his dog tags is just decoration. No matter the amount of times Ice has talked with him about it, it always seems to go in one ear and out the other. It only worsened after Bradley went no contact with them.
Granted, there have been a handful of times that even Ice has personally agreed with Maverick’s motives, just not the way he went about handling it. Though after being together for this long, it’s ended up just being one of the things he’s had to come to terms with. At least, that’s what he tells himself all the way up until he gets that call- Mitchell has been in a motorcycle accident. Maverick has ejected and wrecked another jet. Kazansky, your damn captain has stolen a jet. Again.
He had been so relieved when Maverick took the testing assignment. It wouldn’t be a deployment, no chance of being shot down, Mav would finally be safe . Or, at least safer. Lord knows Maverick has the ability to make any safe situation into a life or death situation. He knows Maverick took it to be closer to home, to be present after his cancer diagnosis and during his treatments.
Tom can admit that he may have gotten comfortable, complacent, even. Because the day he gets the call: “Admiral Kazansky, sir, you requested to stay up to date on Project Darkstar?”
“I did.” He rasps, straightening in his chair.
“The pilot on the mission: Captain Pete Mitchell has been declared MIA as of 0900, sir. The call came in about 15 minutes ago. While performing a test run with the mission objective being hitting Mach 10. At Mach 10.2 the jet experienced complete mechanical failure, at which point control lost contact with both the Jet and Captain Mitchell. Reports state that the explosion could be seen for miles, but there has yet been a report of a parachute sighting. Search and rescue teams have been deployed but due to the speed and height of the failure, the radius is quite large and will take time to comb through.”
The beating of his heart is so loud in his head, he almost doesn’t hear any of the report. He has to take a moment to get his breathing under control and to give him time to feel like his voice won’t give out on the first word. “I want to be updated. Every step of the way.” Tom frowns and glances over to his calendar-it’s clearly marked as a test day, but the number is different. Today's test was only supposed to be Mach 9. Why had that changed? “And I want the full, updated file on the project. Immediately.”
“Of course, Admiral.” His secretary dutifully responds, and the line goes dead. The droning end tone seems to mock him. He has to resist pulling a Maverick and throwing the phone. Instead he oh so carefully sits the phone back on its base.
Damn you, Pete.
The file is in his inbox almost immediately and he wastes no time opening it, searching through the transcriptions to find out why his husband put himself at that much risk, seemingly needlessly.
His brow furrows only a page into the transcript.
You know what happens if you go through with this. Hondo warns.
I know what happens to everyone else if I don’t.
The fuck does that mean?
The furrow in his brow only deepens as he looks at the start time. It’s earlier than all the others. Why?
Iceman digs out his phone, selects Hondo’s number and fires off a text. ‘Why Mach 10?’
He remembers the pout he had received when he had selected the warrant officer for the posting. “ I don’t need a minder, Ice. ”
He had merely raised a brow in response then typed: “ I can’t be there. Especially not now. You need at least a friend; and you have yet to manage pissing off Hondo.”
Maverick had grimaced at that; likely at the reminder of the cancer, but dropped the argument.
He’s never been so grateful to have selected him than now. Hondo’s reply is damn near immediate. ‘Admiral Cain came to shut us down. Stated that we failed to meet the contract threshold of Mach 10. Mav insisted that we fulfill the contract.’
Of course he did. There were over a hundred personnel on that base. Scientists, guards, civilians working and relying on that job. Maverick would never have been able to just follow orders and stand down.
‘Any news?’ He texts back.
‘None. He went down over North Texas. Search Radius is 100 miles.’
He pinches his brow at that, trying so desperately to keep it together. He’s not ready for this. He could never be ready for this. They’ve been by each other's sides for over 30 years. It can’t just end like this. Not when Mav was supposed to be safe.
‘Find him.’
‘Yes sir.’
An hour goes by. Then three. Then five.
It’s hour six when he starts to lose hope. And despite himself, he starts to think of funeral arrangements. Maverick would be cremated obviously. He was a pilot, a man who sought freedom like a fish seeks water. He could never confine him to a coffin, to a hole in the ground. There would still need to be a grave. But perhaps him and slider can go and spread his ashes out at sea.
He’s getting ahead of himself. You can’t cremate someone without a body. God damnit . Where is his husband?
Hour seven, and he brings up Bradley’s number. Should he call? They haven’t spoken since that fateful day of the argument. Bradley had demanded that they go no contact, first he required it of Maverick, but when Ice had stayed by his side, despite disagreeing with what Mav had done, he demanded it of Tom too. They haven’t broken Rooster’s wish since. They both kept tabs of him, they attended his graduations, and sat in the back row. He keeps Rooster on the calendar and marks his deployments. Surely Rooster would care about this? It was Mav after all. Maverick had helped raise him ever since that god awful day when the boy lost his father.
Iceman sighs and puts down his phone. He won’t break Rooster’s request. Especially when he doesn’t even really know anything yet. He’ll invite him to the funeral, maybe, by letter. That way Rooster doesn’t actually have to speak to him.
Hour eight, and Tom has locked his office door and collapsed in his chair, head in his hands and gives in to despair.
Hour nine, his phone rings. He answers.
“We got him sir.” Hondo informs him urgently, bypassing any greeting.
Ice is suddenly glad he’s sitting, for he’s certain that his legs would have given out.
“He crashed in the middle of nowhere, it took him a while, but he managed to find a diner, and call the base.” Hondo takes a deep breath. “He’s largely alright, but he is dehydrated, suffering from whiplash and a concussion, in addition to several broken ribs.”
But he’s alive. Ice thinks. He’s alive. Everything else he can still handle. He can still fix this.
Hondo clears his throat, obviously hesitating before stating: “His helicopter is on his way back to base. Cain has demanded he skip medical and be escorted to him for immediate dischargement.”
Tom can’t help his wet laugh. Then he musters the energy to say: “Let’s see him try. And get my husband to medical.”
“Yes sir.” Hondo hangs up, and Ice allows himself a moment to not be Iceman, to just be Tom, who almost lost his husband. A few tears of relief escape him before he’s at his desk dialing Cain’s personal number.
“Admiral Cain.” He doesn’t bother with friendliness. “When Captain Mitchell arrives I need him shipped off to North Island for a special detachment.”
“A special detach- sir! He just disobeyed direct orders and crashed a billion dollar research plane!”
“He, under the stress of a moved deadline, with little to no notice, met the contract threshold. He has fulfilled his job posting stipulations with merit and harm to himself. It is unfortunate the plane was lost during this test, but it seems unavoidable from my end."
He can practically hear Cain set his jaw. “Yes sir.” He says lowly. “I’ll have him shipped off within the hour.”
“He will see medical before he leaves.” He leaves no room for arguments. He will not leave his husband to suffer.
“Yes sir.” Cain grinds out. “I’ll see it done.”
“Good.” He hangs up the phone.
It’s hour thirteen when his husband calls.
“Pete?” He greets.
“Hey.” Mav says, exhaustion palpable through the phone. Ice is sure his own sounds the same. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
He can’t help his scoff of disbelief. “10.2 Maverick. You only had to hit 10.”
“I know.”
“You almost didn’t come back this time, Pete. You were MIA for nine hours. I spent nine hours thinking this was it. I’m a widow. My husband is dead and I have to plan a funeral.” He feels hysteric even though his voice barely wavers. “You do realize you are married, right? That you have someone waiting on you to come home, someone that loves you.”
His words sit in the air for a long moment. “I thought it would be my last flight.” Maverick answers softly. “I’m sorry, Tom. I just…they’re all trying to force me out now, everywhere I look. And I know I did this to myself, and I don’t regret what I’ve done. Any day now could be my last flight. At some point you won’t be able to save me.” There’s a small shuffle over the phone and Ice imagines Mav running a hand through his hair. “And I’m rather sure that point is coming soon.” Pete admits. “I thought it was today. I knew what I was doing, I also knew I had to do it. And if this was going to be my last flight, I just wanted to have a little fun with it. I know I caused problems for you, and crashed the Jet.”
“I don’t care about the problems. Or the Jet.” Tom answers equally as soft. “I care about you, Maverick. That you come home in one piece and I don’t get a phone call saying you were killed in action.”
“I’m sorry.” Mav repeats. “I know you worry. But I’m alright, just a few scrapes and bruises.”
“A few broken ribs you mean. And a collarbone, per Hondo’s latest report.”
“...maybe.”
Tom can’t help it. He laughs. “You’re so stubborn.”
He can hear the smile in Pete’s voice. “You love me though.”
“I do.” Tom easily confirms. “Very much.”
“I’d hope so. Would be very unfortunate if my Husband didn’t love me.”
“You make it hard sometimes. Believe me.” He deadpans.
The pause is easier this time, comfortable. “Why are you sending me back to Top Gun?” Mav finally asks.
“You’ll get the full briefing tomorrow, but there’s a special detachment and I fully believe you are the only one qualified enough to see it through.’
Maverick sighs. ”While I appreciate the vote of confidence, I’m not a teacher, Ice.”
“You can be. I’ve seen it in you. I believe in you. Besides, with you at Top Gun, you can finally come home.”
“That certainly is a plus.” Mav agrees and does his best to stifle a groan.
Ice hears it anyways. “Rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Mav hums, he sounds half asleep already. “Love you.”
“I love you too.” He hangs up.
Mav is safe. And Mav is coming home. Thank god.
Now he just needs to survive Mav finding out that Bradley is on this detachment.
He knows Maverick is upset when he doesn’t come home after the briefing.
‘That didn’t go well.’ He risks texting first.
‘The kid’s not ready for this mission.’
Ice sighs. ‘No one is. That’s why you’re here.’
‘You could have warned me.’ he could have but-
‘Would you have come?’ They both know the answer is no, and Pete leaves him on read.
He spends the evening in his recliner in the living room. The TV is on, but he pays it no real attention.
It’s 2000 when Maverick finally limps into their home. Tom is already rising to meet him.
Their reunion is silent at first, Tom is mindful of Pete’s new injuries and gives him a gentle hug. “It’s so good to have you home.” He breathes.
“It’s good to be home.” Mav admits. “The hanger is wonderful, but I do love our house.”
Tom kisses his head before pulling away. “Why are you covered in sand?” He rasps.
Mav grimaces. “Got thrown out of the Hard Deck. I forgot my card expired and it declined. Overboard I went.”
Tom freezes. “I’m sorry, did you just say you got thrown from the bar a day after ejecting at Mach 10?”
“It wasn’t my idea.” He defends. “I offered to come back with cash. But Penny likes her fun.”
Tom’s frown doesn’t go away. “Take off your clothes. Let me make sure your ribs are still bound correctly.”
“Dinner first.” And the fact that Pete didn’t make a joke speaks volumes to his condition. Suddenly Ice isn’t so sure about letting him on this detachment. “Can we order pizza?”
“You can get whatever you want, dear.” Tom answers and goes to get his card for Mav. “I’ll order you a new card tomorrow. You can use my spare for now.”
Mav hums and eases himself down onto the couch. He toes off his shoes and Tom thinks about all the sand with a wince.
Tom sits beside him, and Pete shifts to lean into him. Ice soaks in his presence. It’s been over a month since Pete has last been home. It’s been a day since he thought he’d never come home. “If you want off this detachment, I’ll take you off.” He says after a long moment of watching Pete switch between two different pizzas. “Just get both."
Mav does indeed add both to the cart. “Garlic sauce?” Maverick sighs. “It’s alright. I know you pulled your last string to get me here.” And that was true, they both knew it.
“Garlic hurts my throat. Ranch please.”
Mav nods into him. “I don’t know how to work with Rooster. He fights everything I say. He hasn’t moved past what I did.”
“Maybe it’s time to tell him the truth of why you did it.” Tom passes him the card. “Get those cake things you like.”
“Lava cakes.” Mav reminds and obeys. “I can’t do that. I won’t tarnish Carole’s memory like that.”
“It’s hardly tarnishing when it’s the truth. You don’t deserve to suffer any longer because of this.”
Pete goes quiet at that. “I’ll think about it.” He says finally. “Food will be here in 35.”
“Plenty of time for you to change then. You’re getting sand on everything.”
“We live off the beach.” Maverick argues. “Sand is already over everything.”
It’s so good to have his husband home.
He can’t help but feel a bit proud- and smug when Maverick tells him about his day. He got every single one of the kids. Unsurprising, honestly, he knows only one pilot better than Maverick; himself.
He’s less impressed when Mav admits he’s already managed to worm himself into trouble.
“Breaking the hard deck, on your first day?” Ice raises a brow.
Mav shrugs, follows it up with a wince. “The mission parameter is a max ceiling of 300 feet. Not a minimum of 5000. I submitted a request for a lower hard deck.”
Ice laughs softly as he rebinds Pete’s ribs, then places heat packs on him. “A bit late, I believe, but I’m impressed you submitted paperwork.”
Pete’s lips quirk up. “I live to impress darling.”
Tom kisses his temple fondly, “Don’t I know it. Rest. I’ll get dinner ready.”
The following days pass much of the same, it’s a week and a half in, Tom already has dinner ready (he can’t take much credit. His sister and kids are visiting.) But this time, when Pete comes home, it’s not with a story, or even a tired smile. He’s completely shut down, doesn’t even seem to hear him as he walks to their bathroom and shuts the door.
Tom stands stock still for a long moment, staring at the door. Then he turns and locks the bedroom so his nieces and nephews can’t interrupt. It’s only after that does he knock gently on the door. “Pete?”
The only response he gets is the sound of the shower starting. So with a sigh, he contents himself to wait. He sits on the edge of the bed.
‘What happened today?’ He messages Warlock.
‘A lot.’ Is the first text back he gets. ‘One pilot went into G-lock, but Mitchell was able to get him back.” Tom sighs in relief. ‘But then there was a bird strike. Both pilots had to eject and we lost a plane. I went to deliver the news about Viper and walked into an argument between Maverick and Rooster.’
Fuck.
He sits his phone to the side and rubs his temple. What a shit day for his husband. Undoubtedly brought up memories of Goose, and losing their mentor on top of that? And who knows what happened in that argument.
Tom stares at the door, and with every minute he gets more worried, and far closer to knocking it down to make sure his partner is okay.
Thankfully it doesn’t come to that, before long -though it feels like an eternity- Maverick opens the door and shuffles out. His eyes are still so dangerously blank. “Pete?”
He blinks and it seems to take a moment to process but he looks up.
Tom cups his cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispers.
Pete shakes his head and lets his head fall against Tom’s shoulder. They stay like that for at least ten minutes, just soaking in each other.
“You’d mourn me? Wouldn’t you?”
Tom stiffens, and looks down to him. “What kind of question is that? You’re my husband. My wingman. Of course I’d mourn you.”
Pete nods into him at that.
“Why are you asking me that?” Tom asks. Fear bubbles within. Was his husband planning to die? Was he sick? Damnit, he should have known he needed recovery time!
Maverick shakes his head. “Just something the kid said.”
The fear quickly shifts to anger. “What did he say?”
Maverick sighs and pulls away. He goes to his side of the bed. “That no one would mourn me when I burn in.”
“Bullshit.” He says, harsher than he really meant to, but he means it all the same. “Hondo would. Our friends would. My sister and her kids would. And you have to know I would.”
Pete climbs into bed with a grunt that turns into a sigh.
Tom doesn’t push it any further. It obviously had been a long day. So he climbs in too and holds Pete close. “I would.” He repeats as a whisper. It leaves his lips like a prayer.
The day of Viper’s funeral is hard. Their friends come, and other graduates of Top Gun come too. One by one, the remaining members of the class of 86 push their wings into the coffin.
Slider and the others come over and make small, idle conversation, but none of them are really up for anything else. Maverick is called to the base only a few hours later.
“Is he alright, Ice?” Slider asks once Maverick is out of sight. The others nod in agreement, having picked up on it too.
Tom sighs. “Not really. This whole thing with Bradley has spiraled out of control. Bradley hasn’t let go of what Maverick did, and it’s causing problems. Shit. Just the other day Bradshaw told Maverick that no one would care if he died.”
“What the fuck?” Hollywood pipes up.
“Hell of a thing to say.” Merlin agrees.
“I know.” Ice sighs. “Mav’s tried to talk to him, but Bradley won’t hear any of it. I’ve half thought of telling him the truth myself.”
A new voice interrupts. “What do you mean ‘the truth’?” Rooster steps forward, searching all of them.
“The truth of why Maverick pulled your papers.” Slider answers before Ice can cover up.
Rooster’s brow furrows. “What?”
Tom sighs. “Your mom, kid.” He answers. “On her death bed made Maverick swear that you wouldn’t fly. He figured pulling your papers was enough to fulfill the promise.”
You could hear a pen drop as Bradley process the truth. “He didn’t want to?”
“No.” Ice answers. “He didn’t think it was the right thing to do. But he was afraid, and he had promised. He doesn’t want you to know because he doesn’t want you to hate your mom.”
“I…I could never hate my mom.”
“No but you sure have managed to hate Maverick.” Cougar chimes in, arms crossed. “I don’t care how angry you are. It’s been fifteen years. Who the fuck tells someone it won’t matter if they die?”
Rooster winces at that. “I didn’t mean it. I was just so angry.”
“Fix it.” Slider tells him. “Mav’s been trying for 15 years to. It’s your turn.”
Fixing it doesn’t happen that day. Instead, Maverick comes home, with his worst fear having come true. Grounded. Flightless. Permanently. Viper had been the favor he pulled to get Mav this assignment. With him gone, Cyclone was free to make the decision he felt was best. Which in this case, was firing Maverick.
His husband barely makes it inside before he slides down their front door to his feet, looking oh so lost.
“Pete…” He rasps. Hesitantly, he kneels by his side. “I’m so sorry.” Maverick had been right about him running out of favors.
“It’s over.” He whispers. ”I’ll never fly again.” He looks up to him. “Those kids aren’t ready Tom. If they go they aren’t coming back. They don’t believe it can be done.”
“Then show them it can be. Teach them that they will succeed.”
“I can’t , Tom. This is it. It’s over. There are no more strings to pull.”
There aren’t and they both know it. “I know you. You don’t give up- ever. Especially not with lives at stake. You’d never forgive yourself. I believe in you, Pete.”
Pete leaves before him that next morning. Tom wakes up to a text: ‘ I stole a plane .’
Tom blinks, then sits up, and reads it again because surely he read that wrong. But even after that, the words remain. ‘ This is not what I meant .’
He doesn’t get a response, presumably because he’s launched, so he resigns himself to the phone call he will inevitably get later. Surprisingly, he doesn’t get a call or a text. All day even. What he does get, is his husband, in his summer whites, staring at him from across the kitchen. “Tom…” Maverick chews his lip- uncharacteristic of him, but then admits: “I deploy tomorrow.”
“No.” The words leave his lips before he even processes the real weight of them. “Absolutely not. You’re already hurt, and with Rooster out there with you, you will be distracted.”
Pete nears, laying a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Ice. Cyclone has already decided.”
“Fuck Cyclone.” He rasps, and clasps a hand over Mavericks. “I’ll issue new orders. Remove you from the posting.”
Maverick shakes his head. “No Tom. I’m the only other one who can fly this mission correctly.”
Tom knows it too. “I’m coming with you.” He holds his hand up to stop the protest. “I will be on the carrier in the control room.” He meets Pete’s gaze. “You will come home. That’s an order, Captain.”
“Yes sir.” He murmurs.
The carrier is bustling with activity, it is nostalgic. It’s been a very long time since he was last on an air carrier like this.
Maverick and him keep their distance from one another. Tom is a private man, and in this case, Maverick is too. He finds his husband on the lower level, staring off at the ocean.
He wishes he could call out his name, like he could before the cancer, now, all he can do is get close and rasp his name. “Pete?”
Maverick turns to him, and something feels off. “Hey Ice.” He breathes.
Tom reaches out and clasps his arm. “Remember your orders. Come home .”
“I remember.” Pete placates. “But. Just in case.” He leans in and kisses his cheek. In his hand, he gives him his wedding band.”
“ No. ” Ice says sharply. “You are not doing this. We are not saying goodbye.”
“Tom-”
“No.” He forces the ring into his hand. “You are coming home. Or I’ll kill you myself.”
“Okay.” They keep each other's gaze for a long moment, but it’s broken as the platform rises. It’s go time.”
“Support asset airborne.” The comms officer informs them. “Strike package ready. Standing by for launch decision.”
He wants to call it off. Replace Mav with Hangman, but he can’t.
“Send them.” He rasps, grip tightening on his hands.
“Dagger one away.”
“Dagger two away.”
“Dagger three away.”
“Dagger four away.”
“Dagger spare on standby.”
He stands shoulder to shoulder with Warlock and Cyclone, all eyes focused on the monitors in front. His hands are folded behind his desk, the image of a prestigious Admiral. Few know behind that image is a terrified husband, barely keeping calm.
He notices Cyclone’s iron grip on his elbows. Guess he’s not the only one worried about this suicide mission.
Someone’s not coming back from this. Mav had told him the day of the briefing. He hadn’t thought at the time that that someone could be Maverick.
“Feet dry in 60 seconds.” Maverick’s comms come through. “Comanche, Dagger One. Picture.”
“Comanche. Picture clean. Decision is yours.”
“Copy.” Mav answers, a moment later: “Dagger attack.” Then it begins. The boat rocks as the tomahawks deploy from their silos.
“No turning back now.” Warlock mutters.
He marks his watch in time with Mavericks. A two minute mission might cost Pete his life.
“Sir. Daggers Two and Four are behind schedule. Time to target, one minute 20.”
“Speed up, kid.” He mutters under his breath.
“Tomahawk impact in three, two…” Their screens light up with positive hits on the air base. “Impact. Enemy runway is destroyed.”
“Sir Dagger Two and Four are re-engaging.”
Thank god, Ice thinks.
“All right, now hit your target and come home.” Cyclone orders. He sounds worried.
“Bombs away.” Maverick says, then Bob’s voice filters in, far more lively: “We got impact! Direct hit! Direct hit!”
“That’s miracle number one.”
Just two more. Tom begs. Give him two more.
“Deadeye! Deadeye!” Payback calls.
“Get it online!” Rooster yells back, panic seeps in his voice and it’s contagious in the control room.
“Nearly there! Nearly there!”
Their voices overlap. “No time! Bombs away! Bombs away!”
It’s silent and all they can hear are harsh breaths from the team and then -“Bullseye! Bullseye! Bullseye!” There’s cheers all around, but none of it matters, miracle three was the most important.
“Miracle number two.”
Cyclone nods. “Now they’re in coffin corner.”
“We’re not- out of this- yet.” Maverick reminds them all, the strain in his voice is sobering, and Ice can’t help but grip onto the seat in front of him. .
All hell breaks loose.
The moment they're over the mountain, it’s almost impossible to tell what's happening. So many calls of Smoke in the Air, and Breaks. Flares, countermeasures. Daggers calling in defenses. In between the calls, all they hear are explosions and grunts.
“Dagger two defending! Shit I’m out of flares!” No. Not Rooster.
“Rooster! Evade Evade!” Maverick orders, voice panicked.
“I can’t shake them! They’re on me!”
“Dagger One defending!” Maverick grunts, they can hear flares deploying from his Jet. “I’m sorry, Ice.” You son of a bith Pete.
“MAV NO!” Rooster calls out.
“Dagger One is hit! I repeat Dagger one is hit!” Phoenix calls in. “Maverick is down!”
Oh god.
Oh god no.
Ice stumbles back, and sinks into a chair. His hand covers his mouth in horror. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Maverick shouldn’t even be on this mission. He should have pulled him out and kept him far far away.
But he didn’t.
Now his husband is dead.
Fuck.
Pete is dead.
“Dagger one status!” Rooster calls out. “Status! Does anyone see him?”
“I didn’t see a parachute.” Payback answers.
“We have to circle back!”
“Would you mourn me?” Maverick had asked.
He knew the answer was yes. Had told him that much. He never expected it to hurt like this.
“Comanche. Bandits inbound. Single group, hot. Recommend Dagger flow south. One minute to intercept.”
“Get ‘em back to the carrier. Now.” Cyclone orders; it barely reaches his ears.
“All Daggers flow to ECP. You have bandits headed for you.”
“What about Maverick?” Rooster demands.
“He’s gone, kid.” Ice manages to rasp. “Maverick’s gone. Return to the carrier.” He won’t risk Bradley’s life. He had meant the world to Pete. With him gone, it’s his job now to watch over Rooster.
He does hear Cyclone’s voice grow thick, and crack as he repeats the sentiment, but this time loud enough for others to hear. “Tell him there’s nothing he can do for Maverick! Not in a goddamn F-18!”
“Dagger Spare request permission to launch and fly air cover.”
Cyclone just shakes his head.
“Launch search and rescue.” Warlock orders. He always did get along with Pete. Mostly.
“Negative.” Cyclone shuts down immediately, and has the grace to give Ice a glance of sympathy. “Not with bandits in the air.”
Ice want’s to strangle him for it, even though he knows he’s right.
“But sir! Maverick is still out there!” Ever loyal Hondo protests.
“We are not losing anyone else today.” He says firmly. “Get them here now.”
Ice grips onto Hondo and they leave the control room. He grips onto the ship's railings and bows his head, trying so desperately to keep it together. “He knew he wasn’t coming home.” He rasps. “He knew from the beginning.”
Hondo nods, and keeps the hand on his back. “I’m so sorry, Ice.” He whispers.
God damn it. He should have known Maverick wouldn’t listen.
He never had followed orders after all.
The kids land. Dagger Three, Four and Two all land.
They all look a mess.
Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy and Payback, and god Rooster looks a mess.
So much for not caring if he died. Ice can’t help but think.
Rooster spots him, and with only a small hesitation, heads his way.
Tom isn’t sure he can do this right now, with him. He made it clear what he thought of Maverick, he can’t handle any arguments or bad blood right now.
Hondo follows his gaze and spots Rooster. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” Then he ducks back inside the control room.
“Ice…” Rooster says, obviously hesitating. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t bring him back.” Ice croaks.
Rooster winces. “I know.” God does he know. “It should have been me. Not him.”
Tom shakes his head. “He would have never forgiven himself. You meant the world to him.” He takes a shaky breath. “He’s always been a wildcard: a true Maverick. This was his last posting; he knew that. At least this way, he went out doing what he loves more than anything, he never had to be grounded like the rest of us.”
He would have hated it. More than anything. At least Maverick could be free now.
There’s tears in Rooster’s eyes. “I- we didn’t get to talk. He said we would after the mission. I-I never got to apologize.”
Ice turns into his shoulder to cough. His voice is hoarse. “He knew.” He tells him, sure. “We talked. He’s never been angry with you. You’ve always been forgiven.” He manages to look Rooster in the eyes. “Always.”
Rooster takes a moment for those words to sink in with a small nod. “Are you going to be okay?”
Tom huffs a wet laugh. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be okay again.”
“Sir!” Hondo calls out, head peaking from the door. “You need to see this!”
Ice clasps a hand on Rooster’s shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze before following Hondo inside.
He freezes when he looks over to the radar. “That’s Mavericks ESAT.”
“Comanche states that an F-14 is on route to our position.” Cyclone tells him, not tearing his eyes away for even a moment.
Ice can’t help his small, relieved laugh. “Of course he’d steal himself a new plane.”
“He does have a bad habit of it.” Hondo agrees, relief radiating from him too.
“Sir.” The comms officer interrupts. “Maverick has two bandits on his position -scratch that one.”
“Launch Dagger Spare.” Ice orders before anyone else has a chance.
“Dagger Spare, you are clear to launch. Coordinates have been loaded into your radar.”
“Dagger Spare ready for catapult. Waiting for launch decision.”
“Launch.”
There’s a familiar boom as the jet takes off for Maverick’s position. Ice grips the railing so hard he thinks they may give out under him.
“Sir, Maverick has taken out both Bandits.” Comanche informs.
Warlock gives a small pump of his fist at that, but before anyone can celebrate, another bandit appears in front of Maverick’s path.
“Dagger Spare, ETA.”
“40 seconds.” Hangman responds.
“Dagger Spare be warned: there is a bandit on route for the F-14. You are cleared to fire at will.”
“Copy, weapons ready.”
It’s tense in the room- Maverick seems out of weapons, if his flight maneuver is anything to go by. They watch in horror as the Bandit aligns with Maverick, and a missile appears on radar.
“No.” Ice breathes, but in that same second:
“This is Dagger Spare. Target acquired. Dagger One and Spare returning to carrier.”
Then does the room erupt in celebration.
Ice looks up when a hand clasps itself on his shoulder. “He’s coming home.” Cyclone reassures. “We did it.”
“Maverick did it.” He corrects. ”And to think you didn’t want him on this mission.”
Cyclone grimaces. “He’s a madman, Admiral.”
“Precisely.” He gives him a knowing smile before stepping out and going up to the bridge.
“This is Dagger Spare. Coming into land. Dagger one will need the Barricade. He seems to have no landing gear.”
“Copy Dagger Spare.”
Hangman lands, and his jet is removed from the runway. Immediately, the crew starts to raise the barricade with Hondo’s orders of “Foul deck! Foul deck!”
Warlock and Cyclone watch with him from the tower. Before long they can spot the F-14 which looks like it has seen better years. The moment he knows for certain it’s Maverick, is when his husband buzzes the tower. Even as Cyclone grimaces, and fights for balance, Ice can’t help but laugh. “Let’s go check on our pilots.”
Hangman is perfectly fine, and won’t stop bragging about getting another two. He sees Rooster and Hangman shake hands and suddenly he’s thrown back 30 years ago when he and Maverick did the same thing. It’s his favorite picture.
A crowd rushes Maverick’s jet, all cheering and congratulating him. Ice hangs back, content for the moment just to see that Maverick is alive and breathing and very distinctly not dead.
He barely keeps his stoic demeanor when Rooster gets pulled into a hug. Finally things would be okay.
It only takes a minute more before Maverick worms himself out of the crowd and over to Ice, who’s been joined by Cyclone while Warlock takes the other’s briefing.
His husband is grinning as he nears, and Ice expects to hear a joke, or a ‘miss me?’ What he doesn’t expect is: “Medical.” Pete gasps out, one hand shooting out to grip on to Cyclone, who’s eyes widen in surprise. Despite the shock Cyclone immediately shifts to keep a better hold on him. Ice throws his other arm over and takes the other side.
“What’s wrong?” Cyclone asks, voice low and serious.
“Everything.” Mav hisses and Tom’s heart clenches. “Second eject in three weeks. Already had broken ribs and a shattered collarbone.” He pauses for a moment, considering. “I think I may have been shot.”
“You think ?” Ice rasps.
“Still high on adrenaline, Tom.” Pete defends.
“Jesus.” Cyclone mutters. “Medic!” He shouts into the medical wing.
In a mere second, they are swarmed with medics who take Pete from him and get to work immediately. He feels like he’s in the middle of a hurricane with how still he is and how fast everyone else is.
“Admiral Kazansky.” Cyclone says after a moment. “Let’s give them space to work.”
It’s only a handful of hours before Ice is permitted back in the room. His husband is still asleep, and he doesn’t bother trying to wake him. Lord knows after today he needs his rest. Ice sits on the edge of the bed and runs a hand through Mavericks hair. “I almost lost you.” He whispers.
Despite his attempt not to wake him, Pete replies groggily. “Couldn’t disobey orders, sir.”
Tom smiles at that. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a bus.” Maverick groans and his eyes flutter open.
“I think there might be less damage if you had got hit by a bus.”
His husband considers that. “Probably.” He agrees. Lines of strain show themselves as Mav reaches up to cup his cheek and pull him down for a kiss.
Tom meets it happily, and savors the closeness. Maverick is warm, and slow, and tastes like home.
“I’m home.” Pete whispers against his lips.
“You’re home.” Tom repeats, holding his hand close.
Iceman has the brilliant pleasure of performing award ceremonies for each active member of the Dagger Squad. Bronze stars all around.
“Thank you all for your service. You may return to your sets.” He looks to his husband. “Captain Mitchell. Please stay.” It’s cute to see Pete’s brow furrow, just a little before it straightens out.
“In recognition of the extraordinary feats performed not only during this mission, but throughout your service to this country, you are hereby promoted. From Captain, to Upper Rear Admiral.” He reaches up and undoes Maverick’s eagle, and replaces it with two gleaming silver stars.
“You utter ass.” Maverick hisses as they salute each other.
Ice smirks, just a little. “Paybacks a bitch.” He whispers back. “Welcome to my life.”