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Slider, Ice, and the majority of their class bustle into the locker rooms after classes and hops to shower and change, scrubbing the day's work and sweat from their skin. Viper practically tried to beat them to death in the cockpit today, forcing them into complicated maneuvers just to see how they'd react. Ice was fine, as usual, but Slider knows even he was feeling the pressure. They lost in the end, but so did Maverick and Goose.
That's the weird part. Mav let Viper have the win. They went over the days' activities in the TACTS and it was clear as day the young pilot chose not to sweep across Viper's plane when he clearly could have.
Viper wasn't upset, glossing objectively over the surface of the maneuver and offering the subdued pilot a look flickering between professional, understanding, and something damn close to paternal. Charlie, however, plowed straight through, and Maverick wasn't better for it. He didn't even put up a fight over the harsh judgement of his performance. Goose slung an arm over his pilot's shoulder and spent the rest of the lesson glaring holes into Charlie's head.
"Hey, Ice?"
"Hm?"
Slider glances toward the showers, making sure no one is standing around listening. The last thing he wants to do is get caught gossiping with his pilot about Mav in front of the others and have them tell Goose about it. "Did Maverick seem off to you today?"
Ice snorts. "What's your definition of 'off,' Sli? He's got the consistency of a Jack-in-the-Box."
"He was quiet." Slider fiddles absently with the can of shaving cream in his locker. It was almost unnerving to see him as such, not an ounce of fight in him even when Slider prodded during the hop briefing this morning. He just regarded Slider with a blank look and didn't answer. "Real quiet."
"So, what? Thought you'd celebrate that kinda thing."
A frown grows on Slider's face as he opens his mouth to answer. The locker room door opens before he can, and his jaw snaps shut with a click. The newcomer is Maverick, no RIO at his back where Goose usually looms like a shadow. The younger aviator doesn't acknowledge them past a fleeting glance, keeping his head down. Slider doesn't like it—not one bit.
"Come on, Wolf. Get the hell out already. Some of us have places to be and everyone else either went through already and left or just got in."
"I'm goin'. I'm goin', yeesh, you impatient bastard." Wolf pops out of his shower stall, a hastily wrapped towel hanging from his waist. "What kinda plans could you possibly have anyway, Chip?"
Chipper scoffs and slips into the vacant stall. "If you must know, I have a date."
This, of course, elicits a series of wolf-whistles and demands to know with whom from the remaining guys taking their showers in the other two stalls. Wolf turns, ready to make a comeback when his foot slips in a puddle of water. He goes down hard with a yelp.
Slider and Ice drop their assorted hair care products and go to him. "Fuck, Wolf, are you okay?"
Wolf has his nose covered with one hand. "I 'hink I brog' my fuckin' nose," he croaks, blood pouring between his fingers.
"Let me see," Ice says calmly, ignoring the eyes of the aviators poking their heads out of their respective showers to see what's up. "Come on, Wolf. Move your hand and let me see."
"Mo'herfucker-"
Slider cringes when Wolf finally reveals the damage, his fingers still dripping blood onto the tile from the overflow. "I'll get some paper towels. You really did a number on yourself, man."
Wolf pats his knee in gratitude, hissing when Ice swipes at his nose with a towel. Slider gets up, telling the others to go back to their showers before turning around to fetch the promised materials. His gaze falls on a frozen Pete Mitchell before he gets that far. Maverick's eyes are wide and his breath trembles out of him in a staccato rhythm. Each one becomes more panicked than the last. The shirt that must've been in his hand lays on the floor, forgotten.
"Maverick?"
The young pilot shudders, swallowing hard without ever looking away from Wolf's bloodied hand. He doesn't react when Slider approaches, nearly wheezing now. Slider waves a hand in a poor attempt to garner his attention. Said hand goes ignored, if Maverick sees it at all.
"Slider, what the hell is taking so long?"
"Ice.... We have a problem."
"Yeah, no shit, we have a problem. Wolf's still bleeding all over the place."
Slider grits his teeth when Maverick issues a low keening noise. "A worse problem. Maverick's stuck in his head." He steps closer, stopping opposite him around the benches. He stays just shy of touching the younger man's shoulder. "Maverick? You hear me, man?"
Maverick turns his head only slightly, breaths heaving as tears slowly begin trickling down his cheeks. "My momma," he sniffs, hardly seeming to see Ron right in front of him. His voice sounds too light and young even for him. He sways unsteadily, his face turning pale. "She's not movin'."
Cold dread swirls through Ron at the faint statement.
"O-on the floor," Mav whispers, his breath hitching. "A.... A knife."
Ron's mouth falls open and he scrambles over the bench to stand in front of Maverick, blocking his view to Wolf's bloodied figure. "No, Maverick. There is no knife. Wherever you think you are, it's not real. You're in the locker room at Top Gun." Slider waits for a response, but Maverick continues to stare. He isn't sure it would be a good idea to touch him. "Maverick, come on, kid. Talk to me. Do you know who I am?"
"S-So much blood.... She won't wake up. S-She's not movin'."
"Ron, I've got Wolf around the corner. Get Maverick out of here."
"I'm trying, Ice, but I don't think it's a good idea for me to just start manhandling him-"
The locker room door opens again, and in strolls Goose. "Hey, Mav? You been through the shower yet? I was hoping to-" He stops, eyes widening when he sees Slider standing in front of his half-naked pilot with a wild look in his eyes. "Slider? Mav? What the hell's going on?"
Ron ushers him over with a hurried motion. "Wolf slipped and broke his nose on the floor, blood everywhere. Maverick's been like this ever since."
Goose darts over to his side, slipping in between them and instantly reaching out to wipe his pilot's tears. "Pete, buddy. Hey. Hey, it's okay."
At the sound of his name, Maverick melts into the contact, slumping forward into Goose's chest and not lifting a finger to help while the RIO hefts him up into his arms. Slider watches on, helpless. He highly doubts Maverick ever would've reacted like that to him. Goose easily places Maverick on the countertop under the mirrors, gripping him in a tight hug. The young pilot barely responds, his head lolling onto Goose's shoulder while tears stream down his cheeks. His green eyes are empty, listless.
"Sli, can you do me a favor?"
Ron jolts. "Sure. Sure, what do you need?"
"Grab his civvies out of his locker."
He moves to do as he's told, helping Goose get his pilot changed when his fellow RIO asks it of him. Ice joins them shortly after, murmuring that Wolf is headed to the infirmary and he sent everyone else out the back door. It's a small favor, but Slider thinks Maverick will appreciate it when all this is over.
"Thanks, Ice," Goose answers, his words almost absent as he pushes Maverick's arms into the sleeves of his jacket and holds him close. "It's okay, bud. Just keep breathing with me. You're doing fine."
The hollow expression remains on Maverick's face for some time, long enough that Ice and Slider settle down on the bench to wait.
"Goose?"
The RIO looks to Ice, softly hushing Maverick when the movement draws a whine from his mouth. "I'm not going anywhere, honey," he murmurs. He gently rubs his hands up and down Mav's arms in soothing motions. "What is it, Ice?"
"Why did he freeze up like that? What happened?"
Slider swallows back his theories, watching Goose puff out a weary sigh and cradle Maverick's head. Even with what little context Maverick gave, he can easily put the pieces together. That said, he doesn't want to make any assumptions, especially if those assumptions might one day lead to him triggering Maverick by accident.
"His mom committed suicide when he was seven. Fifteen years ago, today," Goose says finally, moving on from his gentle rubs to squeezing with alternating pressure. "He was the one who found her in the bathroom. Always says he doesn't remember anything past coming home from the library, but the way he says it.... Well, I've never really believed him, and if it is true, he repressed it and might not remember this later."
Ice scrubs a hand through his hair. "That's... fucking awful."
Slider wants to throw up. He knew something was wrong right from the start, but he never would've guessed the truth of what. Now, here they are, living with the consequences of that ignorance.
"How long does it take him to snap out of it?" Ice asks, peering at the blank expression on Mav's face with clear concern.
"Sometimes, it's only minutes. Other times, depending on how bad, it can be hours," Goose answers. His tone and words are telling. This isn't the first time this has happened, and it's far from the worst. "He should be able to walk with a little direction here in a bit, but he's not gonna be himself for a while yet. Emotional shock can be a bitch. You two should probably scram before he comes around."
"Will he be upset that we saw him like this?" Ice inquires lowly, and Slider knows he asked because he would care if someone saw him that vulnerable.
Goose heaves a sigh. "Knowing him? Probably. But-"
"Nick?"
"Hey, Petey. You back with us a little bit now?" Goose asks, his tone gentling instantly.
Mav closes his eyes, the slack look on his face straightening out a little as he nestles into Goose's shoulder. "I go somewhere?"
"Yeah. Yeah, you went somewhere, bud. Scared the hell out of us."
The tiny aviator stays tucked against his RIO, shivering slightly. "Sorry."
"It's okay, buddy," Slider assures him, waving when Maverick blinks open exhausted eyes to look at him. He doesn't seem to have the energy to be startled or even truly upset at the moment, so Slider takes it upon himself to get the poor kid a glass of water. "You just had us worried."
Maverick stares quietly, his expression devoid of all else except confusion. Then, he swallows, making a light noise in the back of his throat as Goose continues squeezing all along his arms. "But I-.... You guys don't even like me."
Ice winces.
"I never said I didn't like you. As for Ice.... Let's just say someone underwent a swift revision of opinion," Slider answers, approaching with the water. "Here, bud."
Not quite seeming to pick up what Slider is putting down, Mav frowns. "Why're you being nice to me?"
"Because you deserve it, kiddo."
"Nick? I'm not.... What do they-?" Maverick murmurs, the utterance coming out as a frightened croak and a desperate plea for guidance.
"It's okay, little brother," Goose promises, pressing a kiss to Maverick's sweaty forehead and brushing a hand up and down the knobs of his back. "They're not gonna try anything or tell anyone. They don't want anything. Like I said, you scared us pretty good, honey. You got Ice and Slider's big brother instincts to function properly, so I think you're gonna be stuck with them."
"I.... Okay?" Mav manages, eyeing Slider nervously.
Goose starts pulling away a little, drawing a whine from his pilot's throat that he immediately silences with a tender croon. Pete's still out of it, not fully with them but also not trapped in the past as he had been minutes ago. Right now, he's probably trying to figure out which way is up, but finding it would be easier if Ice and Slider hadn't pulled a 180 with regards to their handling of him.
"Ron's gonna help you drink, Pete. You're still trembling pretty hard."
"Ron?" Mav asks, peering up at him with wide, teary eyes. The look clothes him in an innocence that's almost unbearable.
"Hey, buddy," Slider answers, stepping closer and lifting the glass. "Think you can work with me here? You don't need to do much, but I'd feel a bit better if you'd guide the glass a little so you don't choke or get it up your nose."
The tiny aviator looks to Goose, and his RIO gives him a succinct nod of approval. Slider steps closer, lifting the glass slowly. Each move he makes, he ensures Maverick can clearly read. Simply based upon Goose's reassurances, Maverick views their intentions as dubious at best. With that in mind, he's careful. In fact, Ron's so intent on keeping Maverick comfortable that he nearly jumps out of his skin when he finally touches his hand.
"Shit, kid! You're freezing." Slider glances over his shoulder. "Ice-"
"Already on it, Sli."
Maverick's brow creases when Slider takes his free hand. It takes him a concerning amount of time to comprehend the action as an attempt to warm the freezing digits, so long that Ice arrives with the blanket Slider keeps tucked in his duffel before he grasps the intent. Then, he gives Goose a quick look—he really does do that a lot, even when not post emotional shock—and scoots forward a bit to be closer to Ron's warmth.
Goose chuckles. "Yeah, Ron makes a good teddy bear, huh, bud?"
"Mmhm. He's a lil'... asshole-ish-"
Ice barks a laugh.
"Big, too, but nice," Mav finishes, sniffing faintly and taking a short drink of water. "Like 'im."
Ron and Tom both soften on the young pilot, smiling at him.
"Don' know a lotta big guys who're nice," Mav mumbles, sipping obediently from the glass when Ron lifts it to his lips again. He snuffles a bit when the water tickles his nose and pulls back. "'Cept Nick."
"Nick is nice," Ice agrees, shooting the RIO a quick wink as he ruffles the tiny aviator's hair.
"Saved me once from 'nother big guy. Tried to drown me in a... sink? I think? Can't really remember. Nick?"
Goose grimaces, squeezing Pete's shoulder and looking mildly ill all the while. "Yeah, Pete. That's what it was. Good, uh.... Good job remembering."
Maverick beams at the praise.
Ice works his mouth without words. After a moment, he meets Goose's eyes over Maverick's head and mouths a silent 'what the fuck?'
The look Goose offers him in return contains a mixture of sorrow, anger, and resignation. Ron grits his teeth, sets down the water glass, and pulls Maverick straight forward into a hug. Pete lets out a soft 'oof!' before melting into it.
"He's warm, Goose," Mav mumbles happily.
"I'll bet you love that, you little cold-body," Goose muses. "What do you say we head home and get you cozied up?"
Maverick pales. "Don' wanna go home. I-In the bathroom-"
"There's nothing in our bathroom, little brother," Goose assures him, stroking a hand over his pilot's sweaty hair.
The endearment rattles Mav and his eyes fill with tears. "Nick, I-"
"I know, honey, but I promise, there's nothing there. We can check every inch of the place if you want, but let me get you home where I can take care of you, all right?"
"Okay," Pete whispers, shuddering.
Slider will freely admit he's impressed. If it were him and he had such a severe amount of trauma attached to this situation, he isn't sure he'd ever set foot anywhere he thought he might find a dead body, especially that of his own parent. The weight of a sight like that should never have been placed on Maverick's shoulders.
Goose leads Maverick out of the locker rooms with an arm around his shoulder. The tiny aviator presses into his RIO's side, snug and secure. Slider and Ice follow. They stay with Goose well after he gets Maverick laid down to sleep in their rental housing, watching over him.
"I don't understand how anyone could hurt him," Slider murmurs. "He's so little."
"Unfortunately, that's kinda the problem, man," Goose mutters. "Easy target, especially for people who look down on his dad, which, if I'm being honest, is pretty much everyone."
Ice sits down at Maverick's desk, careful not to touch anything. "So.... What he said." He fumbles for the proper words. "That, uh, happens a lot?"
"Yeah."
"If he gets hurt like that all the time, why not report it?"
Goose crosses his arms. "Who says he didn't try the first few times? Who do you think gets the blame for anything that happens? The real instigator, or the son of a supposed traitor?" At the other pair's horrified looks, Goose heaves a tired breath. "Look, fellas. He's been dealing with this since he was a kid, and I'm not going to break his trust by telling you about it, but what I can tell you is that he's sick and fucking tired of being ignored and distrusted because of something that wasn't even his fault."
"And Cougar? Was that his fault?" Ice asks.
The look on Goose's face borders on acidic. "Was what his fault?"
"Cougar turned in his wings. Word on the grapevine is that he did it because Mav abandoned him with a MiG."
Goose scowls. "That is bullshit. Rule number one: don't ever trust the word on the grapevine when it comes to Maverick. It's all fucked. Yeah, he does some crazy shit, but it's crazy shit that's under control. Ask any CO he ever served under who ever had to give him a simultaneous commendation and a slap on the wrist and they'll tell you the same thing."
"So, what really happened?"
"What happened is that we were in a 4G inverted dive with a MiG," Goose reiterates, smirking now despite the scolding tilt of his brow. "We couldn't fire on him, but he had Coug locked. Mav got a bit creative to get rid of him, that's all."
Slider snorts. "Creative is one word for it."
Ice huffs in agreement, leaning back in his seat as he casts an observing glance Mav's way. "It's no wonder he looked like he wanted to deck me when I asked about Cougar. Both times."
"Did you ask like a know-it-all jackass the second time?"
The flush on Ice's neck answers Goose's question for him. "Maybe."
"So, that's a yes," Slider chuckles, patting Ice's shoulder. "I know you were all excited to see Cougar after so long, but damn, Ice. It's not like Mav was a downgrade. You can't tell me you're not having fun."
"Guess not," Ice muses, smiling.
"He's a good kid," Goose asserts, settling himself at the head of the bed and tucking Mav in a little better. "Always has been. Honestly, he's got so much heart, I almost don't know what to do with it all. I know that hop awhile back with Wolf and Wood didn't exactly paint him in the best light, but in the real deal? He'd have their backs in a heartbeat, even if he's not used to anyone but me having his."
Slider gently squeezes Mav's socked foot, giving it a playful wiggle. "Well, how about we change that, then?"
A slow smile creeps onto Goose's features, nearly incredulous in nature. "Really?"
He's so hopeful that it makes Slider's chest hurt. How long must it have been since anyone showed even a modicum of care for Maverick if he has to ask? "Really. We're in your corner."
"He's not gonna make it easy, just in case you had any illusions about that," Goose reminds them, still skeptical but letting his eagerness bleed into his tone.
"It's Maverick." Ice rolls his eyes. "I thought that was a given."
Slider smiles, settling himself at the foot of the bed and resting a hand on the kid's ankle. The questioning noise the touch elicits from Mav makes him want to hug the damn kid, but that'll have to wait until he's awake.
Or, judging by the soft sniffles from the head of the bed, the hug might need to take place a lot sooner. Ron wonders how much of their conversation Mav overheard.
"Petey?" Goose murmurs, swiping at the fresh tears on his pilot's cheeks. "You okay?"
Maverick starts pushing himself up, his eyes squeezing closed during a brief bout of dizziness before landing on Slider and Ice. He chews at the inside of his lip, likely trying to hide the way it's wobbling. "I...." He hiccups, his words halting in his throat.
Taking a chance, Ron reaches out and drags Pete against his chest. "It's okay, buddy. We've got you."
For a long minute, Pete doesn't move except to shudder periodically, but, ever so carefully, he presses into Ron's warmth the same way he did earlier. "Thank you," he breathes, softly enough that Ron barely hears it at all.
Goose and Ice both shuffle closer, silently reassuring Maverick that he's not alone. Slowly but surely, Pete falls asleep in Ron's sure hold. Here, nestled amongst his blankets and cradled by the older RIO, he's safe.
It's not much, but Slider knows that sometimes the little things make all the difference.