Chapter Text
The world was spinning, a neverending circle and a rush of air circled Maverick around and around. Another flatspin, he'd figured, heart hammering in his chest as his jet whirled around in the air.
Goose had died to the same thing, he remembers it like it was yesterday, gripping onto the stick with tight hands as he fought the mighty machine with all his strength, to no avail.
And here he was, doing the same thing he'd gotten so used to ever since the class of twenty-two came through, and when he officially took up the role as Topgun's test pilot. He was used to crashing and burning - hell it came with the job - but one thing about this crash was different, he'd felt it the second he got into the cockpit. A strange drop in the pit of his stomach ever since he was given the orders by Cain.
Ah, that motherfucker, Maverick knew that he was more than willing to stick him in the drivers seat and fly this deathtrap. Something about meeting deadlines, he was used to getting the nasty end of Cain's opinions and behavior, but the fact that he'd moved on from drones and back to jets had set a feeling of unease within him.
But he got in anyway, which was probably his biggest mistake.
The jet was going down fast and Maverick's senses were on fire. And so was one of the engines evidently. He reached toward his emergency parachute lever, yanking on the mechanism as hard as his arms would allow. An even stronger sinking feeling entered him.
The parachute wouldn't pull.
"No no no nononono NO!" Maverick panicked, ripping on the machine frantically. "C'mon, COME ON!" he yelled, he couldn't let this happen again, not again, never again.
And yet it was happening -in real time- and Maverick knew... there was a chance that this would be it for him. He began to beg and plead to a deaf god. Hoping that Tom and Bradley knew he loved them both.
Then everything went dark.
Tom was unsure of this test flight from the start, Mav had brought up the flight to him weeks before he went up into the air, eating dinner as his husband explained the entire situation to him.
"I'm not sure about this Pete, the project seems awfully rushed, don't you think?" Tom had said.
"As much as I hate to admit it, Cain does actually have some semblance of what he's doing." Mav responded. "It's a little too ahead of schedule sure -but I'm used to risky flights, you remember the uranium mission don't you?"
"Don't remind me." Tom groaned, "Just about sent me into cardiac arrest. Same thing goes for the Darkstar flight, I don't think either of us want a repeat of that either."
Mav just let out a happy fit of laughter.
He now stood with the technicians, fellow commanding officers, and other people monitoring Mav's flight, it was strange though. Even though Rear Admiral Cain was in charge of the entire project, the man was nowhere to be found.
Chester Cain had always left a sour taste in Ice's mouth, his mistreatment of his staff and general lack of respect toward his spouse had made his blood boil on multiple occasions.
"Admiral Kazansky, you're going to want to see this." a technician brought his attention to a small flashing pop-up on their desktop screen.
Ice leaned over, peering at he brightly lit screen, it read: ENGINE MAULFUNCTION
"Well, we don't know if this is just a misreading or for real, but we're taking all precautions to make sure Captain Mitchell is as safe as possible." the technician stated. "What do you think we should do?
"Bring him back in, we can't risk any accidents." Tom responded flatly, he was maintaining his ice cold persona to the best of his ability -but in reality- seeing that pop-up show up on the screen made his blood run colder than it normally did.
"Yes sir." they replied, sending a message to the headset the pilot was supposed to wear. Usually, when one person wasn't in your ear giving the pilot directions, there was a robot giving them to you.
"On my way back, you got it Ice!" Maverick's mechanical sounding voice echoed over the sound system, there were cameras and trackers set up within the the cockpit to make sure that the person behind the joystick was well monitored at all times.
Tom cracked a gentle smile to himself, he felt a wave of relief wash over him knowing he was secure and safe.
"Admiral." Cyclone called to him from the window overlooking the landing strip, beckoning him over with a hand.
"Cyclone."
"Iceman." they both smiled.
"How do you feel about this test flight -personally, and I hope you take no offense to this- I didn't want Maverick going up in that jet." Cyclone drawled quietly to him so that none of the staff would eavesdrop.
"None taken, but you know I have to ask why you think that."
"It's just... Doesn't this whole project seem sketchy to you?"
"I was thinking that from the start truthfully." Tom grumbled under his breath. "The fact that Cain is running this whole ship doesn't fill me with confidence to begin with. And the idea that whole aircraft comes off as a complete rush job doesn't offset my nerves either."
Cyclone just sighed, shoulders tensing with anxiety as he stared out onto the tarmac.
"Admiral!" another technician yelped out, this time much more urgent. "Both of you, hurry over!"
The men shared a quick glance, before rushing over to the computer area again.
"What's going on?" Cyclone asked.
"The engine malfuction was real, it's deteriorating as we speak, we need to bring Captain Mitchell back to solid ground ASAP."
"Give me your headset, connect me with him." Tom commanded, the tech handed over their microphone headset quickly. "Maverick can you hear me?" he felt Cyclone lean in close to the earphone to hear aswell, a subtle yet supportive hand on his shoulder.
"Bar-ley, every- th-ng is -cu-t-t-t-ing out!" he sputtered. "SHIT!" the mic had completely cut off.
"Maverick? Maverick?!" Tom called to him over the mic "Pete, answer me!"
The tech simply looked up at him and shook their head slowly, motioning over the the video feed still going - even though the footage was beginning to cut out there too.
"We're losing all forms of communication sir, the engine is failing completely." the tech stated. "I don't want to say it sir -I really don't- but there might not make it back-we'll have to send out search and rescue."
"You're right, send them now, he's too far out still." Cyclone responded. "Didn't you people hear me?! Send them out!" he ordered.
Tom stood silently, eyes fixated on the screen, watching as his husbands eyes go wide in panic, as his own heartrate began to skyrocket. He felt his heart in his throat as a gaping pit opened in his stomach, the exact same feeling he'd gotten when he heard that him and Bradley had been shot down during the uranium mission.
He wanted to look away, but he couldn't tear his eyes off of Maverick's terrified face. They'd been down this road before, -one too many times- but he knew this was different, something was wrong, so very very wrong.
Watching as Mav's arms flew to the punch-out lever, he felt a twinge of hope when he yanked on the system, but there was no signs of him ejecting, he saw his arms begin to flail and pull more frantically, but the parachute wouldn't budge.
It was like reliving Hop thirty-one all over again.
He never wanted to feel that way ever again.
And yet here he was.
It had been hours before search and rescue got back to Tom, he was forced to go back to his office, he'd been gripping the wood of his office chair for what felt like eternity. Waiting endlessly for word of his husbands safety, a terrible feeling was coursing through his veins, that maybe Pete was dead. This was it for him, and he could only sit and watch when he crashed and burned into the middle of the california desert.
A gentle knock rapped on his door, Tom was immediately shook out of his thoughts when his young secretary Peggy popped her head in.
"Admiral?" she murmured to him, her voice gentle and soothing -it filled him with unease, the feeling that he was about to receive earthshattering news.
"Captain Mitchell..."
"Is he alive?!" was the first thing Tom asked, desperate to find out if he'd be burying an empty casket within the same week. "Please just tell me he's alive!"
"Yes, he's alive." she replied.
The whirlwind of panic and anxiety quelled in him, the worst part was over, now he just needed to know his condition.
"But, Admiral I need to warn you..." Peggy scratched her neck hesitantly. "He almost didn't make it, they had to take him into surgery and...well."
"What?" Tom blanched. "Peggy, what happened?" he tried to coax the information out of her, but he was beginning to sweat beneath his collar.
"The hospital he's staying at is a short distance away -it's something you should see for yourself." Peggy explained "And I cleared your calender for the next forty-eight hours to give you time."
Tom almost bolted out of the room, patting Peggy quickly on the head before leaving.
"Peggy you're an angel, I'm sorry- I have to go!" Tom rushed out of the office as fast as his old bones would allow. Rushing his way past navymen in the hallway, heads and eyes following him as his steps echoed out of the stuffy building.
The drive to the hospital was one full of white knuckling steering wheels and violating several road laws within the short drive from base to the hospital, Tom frantically searched for a spot to park, his car screeching into the lined pavement. He didn't ever remember being so panicked for Maverick's wellbeing - he'd been worried before sure - but that was when it was whiplash, mild concussions and bruised ribs, something in his soul told him this time would be different... way different.
Tom all but sprinted across the parking lot, nearly running out in front of an off-duty ambulance in the trek. Thank god the doors were automatic and Tom was all to familiar with the layout of a hospital. The front desk was right where it was supposed to be, and Ice made a direct beeline to the counter.
Out of breath and looking very disheveled for such a well put together individual, Tom managed to huff out.
"Where is he?"
"I'm sorry?" the nurse at the desk looked completely perturbed at the very obviously high ranking Navyman at her front desk, looking like he ran a marathon.
"Peter - oh god- Mitchell-" he gasped out. "I was told he was transfered here?"
"Uhm- I'm not sure-" the nurse began to look borderline frazzled.
"Hey Ice!" a voice called out to him, an old friend met his eyes, Dr.Pierce, an older man with a rather large nose and a smarmy smile. "Pleasure to see you here again, I take it you're here for Mav?"
Tom could only give him a weak nod, Dr.Pierce was all too familiar with the two of them, anytime Mav -or even on the very rare occasion somebody else in their little family- was in the hospital, they were under the keen eye of Dr.Pierce.
"Take it easy big guy, he's alright."
"Don't say that Hawk, I know he's not." Ice grumbled, following the doctor down the hallway of the ward Mav was staying in. "This crash has been... different." Pierce was silent, just walking quickly and quietly.
"I didn't want to tell you until you got here Tom but, we had to operate." Hawk sighed, bracing himself for the worst reaction he could get.
"You did?" Tom seemed relatively calm for what was going on, but he chalked it up to his own method of calming himself down.
When the men had reached the room, a whiteboard hung on the door, a half dried up expo marker wrote out the name 'Captain Mitchell'. Tom swallowed thickly, turning the handle and entering the room.
If he hadn't mentally prepared himself all the way there Tom thought he may have passed out, his knees began to wobbled and he braced a steady hand onto the doorframe of the room.
Mav looked like a shell of himself, a smaller body huddled amongst wires and tubes, a ventilator hooked around his mouth with his head lolled to the side and eyes shut peacefully. He rushed over to his side, crouching into the plastic chair and searching for a way to worm his hand into the grasp of Mav's.
"Jesus christ Peter, what am I going to do with you?" he forced himself to smile fondly, even though he felt a stray tear escape his eye, immediately wiping it away, Dr.Pierce shuffled over, handing Mav's paperwork to Tom. His eyebrows were drawn tightly together, like he was hiding something from him.
"Tom I- don't want this to come as a surprise to you, I told you we had to operate but..." Pierce cringed, dragging his eyes to Tom's in sympathy. Tom raked his gaze back over Mav, taking in his weak form, and feeling the tears well back up again.
"I just- it was more than just an appendix removal or a bone correct- good god Tom I'm so sorry." Dr.Pierce lifted the sheets up from Pete's feet, showing Tom what he had been talking about the whole time.
"Oh my god... Peter..."