Archive of Our Own ^beta

I am the eye in the sky, looking at you

I can read your mind 

I am the maker of rules, dealing with fools

(Eye In The Sky, The Alan Parsons Project, 1982) 

Ice walked on the deck straight serious, the medals in his uniform reflecting the sun rays right into his eyes. He could feel the crew's gaze on him, a few of them, he could see through peripheral vision, had their mouths slightly open. 

For sure they weren't expecting the Commander of the Pacific Fleet. It wasn't in his plans either. He should’ve been on dry land, supervising the mission through reports, and still recovering. He ignored doctor's and Sarah's orders, though. 

A mission of this caliber needed direct superior supervision. Although he trusted the pilots and people onboard, he just had a bad feeling all together from the start, and that for itself was enough to double the attention he laid on everything merely connected to it. Especially since Maverick stole a fucking F-14 to do a demonstration of the capacity needed to achieve the mission with success.

Ice still had a burning headache in the back of his head since he received a not so friendly report from Admiral Simpson informing him that because of that Maverick was chosen to be the goddam team fucking leader. He had been walking with his nerves trembling ever since. Not that he would ever say a thing about it. 

So he had to be on the carrier, needed to supervise every step of it himself, regulations, training and medical orders be damned. For now, he wasn’t afraid to admit that not even the Navy or his health could take a hold on his instincts screaming at him to keep an eye on the pilots. Keep an eye on Maverick. 

He had learned a long time ago to trust his instincts, mainly when related to the man who was his wingman. Not because he didn’t trust him, but because he trusted him so much that he knew Maverick would pull some last minute rabbit out of his hat and do some crazy stunt to achieve whatever the objective was. 

And this mission wasn’t no kids play. To fly this one the pilot needed to be all in or all out and Maverick, as always, was all in. Ice knew Maverick had plans on making everyone return home, he just wasn’t sure if that plan applied to him as well. He thought that maybe his presence could shake Maverick at least a little to remind him that he should be back as much as the others did.

Iceman approached Maverick's plane without the other man realizing it, the mix of sounds from people talking and engines rooming maskareding his steps.

Maverick had his back to him, going through pre-flight with Hondo. The other Daggers members went into attention right when they saw him and Maverick, noticing the movement, turned to face the superior officer in question, already adjusting his posture, but didn't have time to hide the surprise on his face when he saw Ice.

Ice looked at the pilots and nodded in a sign of dismissal before turning all his attention to Maverick.

"Sir." Hondo saluted before leaving them alone. 

"Admiral." Maverick said, his voice filled with amusement not so in tune with his attempt of keeping a serious expression.

Ice returned with a small smile and a nod.

"Wasn't expecting you here, sir."

Ice pointed around with his hand. “Better view on the mission."

"Wise decision.” Maverick smiled with his eyebrows showing the sign of interest he had on the comment.

Ice smiled again, the cold exterior that came along with the callsign melting every time he had Maverick in his orbit. Is understandable why words flew from mouth to mouth that he was Maverick’s guardian angel. It was an open secret in the Navy that Admiral Kazansky, even though was tough, had a soft spot for his best friend.  

They moved to a spot near the plane's wing, where no one could see their faces, read their lips or have a closer view on their interaction. 

"I'm sorry you're going on the mission. I couldn't intervene more." Ice spoke the words quickly, not letting himself think about them or otherwise he wouldn’t say anything at all.

"Hey, it's all right, I asked you, didn't I? I have a chance of protecting Bradley and the others. It's gonna be fine."

Ice made an incomprehensible noise that was intended to sound like a confirmation. 

"Why are you here, though? Sarah told me you have orders to take it easy. I mean, I know you're safe now, but still." Maverick’s worry showed not only on his voice, but also on his physical expressions, as if he was prepared to be on the move to call for help if Ice made any indication of not feeling well.

"I’m fine. I just had to see it all for myself."

"You would have reports on your desk."

Ice made a move with his chin to the left. It's not the same.

Maverick’s brow furrowed even more, placing his hand on Ice’s arm. "Where is this all coming from, Tom?" 

Ice took a deep breath, letting it out heavily. He looked at the horizon trying to buy some time to collect his thoughts, no sight of land, only water and more water for miles away.

"Just..." He tried to formulate a sentence, without success. 

There were too many feelings inside of him, but none of them were capable of being put into words. Ice found it funny how he could go through minutes of speech and make decisions as easily as the day rose, but felt unable to speak when it came to emotions. 

He decided to act, then, pulling Maverick into a tight hug, whispering firmly in his ear. 

"Please, come back. Alive."

"I will." Maverick whispered back without hesitating. His voice was serious, but that didn't give Iceman any sense of comfort.

"Don't do stupid shit if you don't have to."

"If I don't have to?" He could feel the smile on Maverick's voice now, an attempt to break the tension. Ice didn't buy it.

"I'm willing to accept whatever bullshit you pull and to deal with piles of paperwork if it means you're gonna be back safely."

"Am I melting the ice, Ice- man ?"

Ice’s blue eyes, often compared to the ocean water that surrounded them, were sharp on the edges and almost showed a burning fire in the middle. 

I’m serious, Mitchell.

Maverick dropped the joke and the smile, his face completely blank, the grip he still had on Ice’s arm got tighter.

"I'm gonna be back before you know it."

Ice nodded. 

The mission was a fucking joke. 

Ice is still trying to process everything that happened. He still can feel the eyes from the people in the control room, all the air closed in their lungs while they waited for orders and instructions. Those that didn’t come from him. 

Hours after, while Maverick and Rooster were being checked, Ice went to a closed room at the back of the carrier to make more phonecalls than he had the mental ability to count at the moment, that’s when he realized he had Cyclone's voice denying sending search and rescue on his brain repeating itself like a fucking TikTok song.  

The years in the military does something to a person, Ice was sure. The training was the only thing that kept him from turning the control room apart and giving a voice of command ordering that every plane onboard was sent to find Maverick and Rooster. 

Admiral Kazansky had a place to stay on and it was being rational and precise. It wasn't hard math to do, a thousand lives were way more important, especially considering the kind of mission they had to face. Two casualties and most jets were intact was the best case scenario, in fact, way better than they could've imagined. 

Not for Tom. 

Tom was a selfish and possessive being. He was like a dog with a bone, he wanted everything to himself once he had it. 

Of course the lives of everyone else were important, Tom never had, not even for a single moment, doubted about it, but he couldn't shake away the human parts in the Iceman. 

Ice gave up a long time ago the intention to ignore Maverick's importance to him. Their relationship wasn't what Ice wanted, and even though he had made peace with that, he never had the ability to tell both his heart and mind that other things should come before Pete Mitchell. 

Because they never came above Maverick, not even the Navy. 

On the contrary, Ice found himself climbing the ranks faster than he thought he would and with that he saw an opportunity to do the one thing he knew Maverick would really accept from him, keep him flying. 

Ice still carried guilt on his shoulders from that horrible day back in Top Gun. He learned how to live with it, how to move on, but he didn't need to give a closer look to know that Maverick didn't. He apologized more times than he could remember and Mav always said that it wasn't his fault. Ice tried to help him, and Maverick always denied, saying that everything was fine, that he was fine, but Ice knew better. 

There were only two occasions in which Maverick accepted his help, one was when it came to help raise Bradley after Carole's unfortunate passing and when it came to keep him in the skies. Ice never denied Maverick any of those, no matter what would cost him, no matter how many sleepless nights or how many people he had to convince, Maverick's smile and warm eyes were worth it. 

But on the carrier, when he found himself unable to say or do anything besides stay in the back watching Cyclone and Warlock make decisions, he felt like a failure. He failed on protecting Bradley and on keeping Maverick safe, even though the last one Ice never mentioned out loud. 

Ice didn't have words to explain how relieved he was when they got Rooster's signal back online. When the controller said he was airborne, Ice knew it had to be Maverick. He knew that hope was a dangerous thing, mainly in his line of work, but in that moment he dared to hope. 

When Maverick and Rooster landed on deck, both bruised and tired, with more injuries that they had fingers to count on, Ice thought he could finally breathe. 

But now, four days after coming back stateside, Ice still couldn't breathe. He still felt like there was something in his lungs, heavy and dense, keeping him from relaxing. 

The beer he wished he had in hands was long replaced by sparkling water or soda, one of the side effects of the living style he had to adapt to. The treatments and medications he had to go through since he was diagnosed made him give up on alcohol and a lot of types of food. Ice didn't mind, though. If it means he can stay clean and safe, like he has been for the last four months, that's what matters. 

However, now, for the first time in so long, he wished he could go to the bar and ask Penny for a whole bottle of vodka, no need for ice or a glass. 

He took a deep breath and emptied the bottle in one go. His ears then identified the engine outside. 

Ice heard Maverick arrive before he saw him, the sound of his bike coming through the open window, and didn't even tremble when his heart skipped a beat. Thirty years and Maverick Mitchell still held more power over the Iceman than he will ever know. 

Rooster came right by his side, both of them chattering like no years had passed. Bradley laughed with his whole body of something Maverick was telling him and Ice smiled to himself after realizing that Bradley behaved as Maverick as much as he physically looked like Goose. 

They entered the club going in the direction of the group of aviators, Maverick dismissed their salute playfully with Rooster rolling his eyes behind him. Maverick was talking to Phoenix when his eyes caught Ice's, his smile going bigger, if that was even possible. 

The Captain went to the bar, talking to Penny animatedly before walking in Ice's direction, excusing himself through the groups of people. 

"Hey, sorry I’m late." Maverick shouted, sitting by Ice's side, their knees touching. 

Ice dismissed the other man’s apology with a gesture of his hand and accepted the water bottle handed to him, at least it was cold enough to burn his fingertips.

"You and Bradley are getting along, then?" 

"Yeah, I think so." Maverick smiled looking in the opposite direction to where Rooster got involved in a game of pool with Phoenix, Bob and Fanboy. "We had dinner yesterday, we still have things to talk about, but I think we're getting there." 

"He seems to be healing well. You on the other hand shouldn't be even driving, especially that death trap." Ice commented through the loud music, getting closer to Maverick’s ear.

"Actually, I am doing better. My ribs don't hurt that much anymore and she has feelings, don’t call her that." 

Ice snorted, running a list of all Maverick's injuries through his head. Three broken ribs, sprained shoulder and knee, a concussion and a lot of bruises and new scars. 

If you say so. 

"What about you, how you doing, Kazansky?" 

Ice considered his next words, using the tactic of limiting the use of his voice as an advantage to not talk about the matter. He had been answering that same question and its variations every day for three years and he understood the intention behind it, he really did, but God if he wasn’t tired of it. 

"I’m fine, feeling better." 

"That's awesome, Ice. I'm glad." Ice's heart squeezed with the sincerity and happiness in Maverick's voice. 

He knew how out of his mind Maverick got after finding out about the diagnosis. 

Ice didn't want him to know, or anyone really. Slider found out after seeing the biopsy in Ice's officer at home when he was searching for a pen and paper. After that, he felt obligated to tell Sarah, who put everything aside in San Francisco to get to Ice the sooner she could. He intended on telling Maverick as well, but rethought his decision after he got the news he pissed another Admiral so bad he would be sent on deployment for eighteen months in the middle of the Indian Ocean. 

He still doesn't know how Maverick got to stay around as a test pilot. Ice didn't get involved in the decision, although some might not believe that. Maverick also has his own fair share of respect, influence and people who owe him favors, things that accumulated after years in the service.

Ice can't lie about how relieved he was when Maverick said he was able to stay in the near location to Ice he could manage to get sent to. 

Maverick was with him all the way through the treatment, as was Sarah and Slider, and occasionally Sarah's kids, Billy and Joel. 

"How's Sarah?" 

"She's doing fine, wanted to say goodbye, but you were already on the carrier when she tried to reach you. Also she had her hands full with the kids, packing all their things and stuff." He explained slowly, letting his voice adjust. 

"Did they leave already?" Maverick asked, sounding disappointed.

"Yes, Billy came here to pick them up a day before the mission. She said she would call you when you're back. I'm surprised she hasn't already." 

"She's probably giving me time to rest before screaming at me. You know, Kazansky things." 

Ice let the response to that be a smirk filled with sarcasm and an obvious look. You should've already gotten used to it at this point. 

He opted to say his next words, knowing that Maverick would be happy after hearing it. 

“They loved the swing you built for them, by the way. James wouldn’t stop asking me about the tree house.”

Maverick gave him a megawatts smile in return. That shouldn't have made Ice's heart do a flip turn like he was still twenty-seven. 

“I will get back to work on that.” 

“When your ribs are healed.” 

“Yeah, right, that too.” Maverick rolled his eyes and brought a distinguished familiar tease tone to his voice. "So that's why you were on the carrier, then? Didn't want to be lonely?" 

"Of course, I was very excited to come back to a ship filled with people. Couldn't even contain myself." 

Maverick laughed at that, open and free, his head going back and his eyes shining. 

Goddammit . 

“You looked good there. I could get used to having you back on board.” 

“That was a one time thing, Mav.” Ice snorted again. He kept away the details about how he had to write a full report to the SECNAV explaining why he left his post without a previous notice. 

“You’re the COMPACFLT and the Iceman, I’m sure you could ask for something once in a while.” 

“There’s only so many things I can ask for.” 

“But I was serious, you looked good there. I mean, you always look good, but being there for the mission…” Maverick said, playing with the bottle label between his fingernails. “That was something else. Thank you, by the way.” 

Ice knocked their ankles together. Of course, Mav.

They fell into an all and nothing conversation after that. Talking about Maverick’s hobby trying to rebuild the P-51 and avoid all topics around Tom’s parts on the mission. 

That reminded Ice, far away in his brain, about the conversation he needed to have with Maverick not too far in the future. 

Maverick was on leave now, for an undetermined time. Admiral Cain made his point very clear when he affirmed he wouldn’t accept Maverick back as a flight test pilot, no matter what he did on the mission. Cyclone, on the other hand, kept his mouth unusually shut about Maverick, which Ice found to be a good thing, taking into consideration that he had expressed his opinions about Maverick in a totally different way in the past. 

Maverick, for what Ice could see, had two restricted options. He would be offered a promotion to Rear Admiral and secure his presence in the Navy, even if he would have to stop flying. Or he would have to retire, which Ice couldn’t see Maverick doing in any of the possible futures. 

It wasn’t about the money, but about Maverick’s happiness. Ice just wasn’t sure how much he was allowed to ask for anymore. 

Ice considered the first to be the best option, not because he would keep Maverick close, but also because of the job he could do in the new post. 

Against most people’s bet, Maverick's not dumb. In fact, he's smart as hell. Very good at analyzing missions objectively, which would be crucial to build a new manner of teaching analytical views on the field. He's capable of doing all sorts of calculations in his mind and, even though his way of flying might be seen as unconventional, it's not reckless, and Ice observed that after years of flying together. 

Maverick's competent and he expects the same kind of competence from others. Sometimes he might be a bit too harsh on the very few subordinates he has, but that is because he cares and he knows that on the skies there is no second chance. Ice wanted to make sure everyone knew that and knew that was why he asked for Maverick for the mission. 

It wasn't a matter of favoritism, it was an attempt to make people realize what he has been knowing for over thirty years. 

He had almost a year in his post as Commander of the Pacific Fleet far ahead. He didn’t know if he would be nominated again, or if he wanted to, but in the meantime he had to guarantee Maverick was safe and well cared for. 

Ice was thinking about talking to Cyclone about a position for Maverick in Top Gun. Again. He still had to think about how to approach the matter properly. With both men, precisely. 

A selfish part of Ice wanted to keep Maverick around now that he didn’t have any missions planned. However, a more rational part, the military pilot and Admiral one, spoke louder when said he needed to take the situation in order to project the best for all parts. 

Ice definitely was going to think about that. Later. For now, he had Maverick by his side, their knees and elbows touching, his smile and attention directed at him. That was all Ice needed. 

Maverick had Rooster’s words running non stop, echoing like he had shouted in an open field, the mountains reflecting them in the back of his head. 

He still could sense Warlock’s eyes at the doorstep announcing the only news Maverick never wanted to hear. 

The sky was clear, a few clouds side by side built a road where the planes were going to fly over the crowd of people, some in black and most in uniforms. 

Maverick had tears in his eyes from the moment he left base, but couldn’t let them run down his face. The announcement of Ice’s death sounded fake, unbelievable, a lie. Ice couldn’t be dead, he just couldn’t. He was never supposed to go first, he was never supposed to leave Maverick. 

Ice had a life, a prosperous career, people to command, people to lead. He had people he loved and who loved him, people who needed him. He was never supposed to leave, even less on a day like this. 

Maverick took the wings from his uniform with trembling hands, his knees shaking, the ground under his feet unable to be felt. Maverick had a hole on his chest so deep that not even an aerospecial binoculars could see the end of. Everything around him was distant and shallow, empt. 

He spiked the wings on the coffin with a tight fist and the planes flew over, white smoke in the air, a last homage to the man Maverick would always be proud of calling a friend and should never be afraid of calling love. 

The bodies and faces in front of him started to disappear in the air like sand at the same time the vivid green grass and the tombstones crumbled as if an earthquake was taking the soil apart. 

The last thing he saw was Sarah, her eyes filled with tears and holding the USA flag carefully in her hands. 

Maverick woke up on a jump. Head spinning, sweat on his back and torso, mouth dry, horror painted in his eyes. The room was dark and the only sound was his erratic breath and the rain touching the windows aggressively. 

He sent himself on move, but his body failed to understand what his intentions were. His knees hit the floor with a loud noise, his right elbow went with all force against the coffee table and his left hand prevented the rest of his body from hugging the cold material. 

A sharp pain behind his eyes knocked Maverick even more off balance, he tried to make a noise but his voice didn’t leave his throat. He forced himself to get up, slower than how he intended, using the couch by his side to help. 

He shook his head twice to the sides, trying to make the dream’s footsteps be erased from his brain. No success. 

His eyes locked on a simple photo frame on the table beside the couch. It was him, Ice, Carole and little Bradley, a year before Carole’s diagnosis. A giant jet behind them almost smiled at the picture taken in the aerospecial museum Bradley firmly demanded to go to every day for three months. 

Maverick’s breath got stuck in his lungs, his heartbeat running the Steamboat Marathon. He didn’t have time to process anything, the panic and the will to run away taking full control of his body and mind. Maverick grabbed his keys and left the base house that was assigned to him as an instructor, unaware of the danger he was putting himself in by driving in such a state.

He took away on the Kawasaki, engine rooming through the late hours of the night. He didn’t need a guide or a GPS to get to Ice’s house, so used to the path that he could drive blind. 

The panic didn't leave him. His mind was clouded by images of the cemetery and the white smoke in the air. He drove through the streets on mechanical muscle memory, his fight or flight responses in full automatic pilot mood, taking him to where his intuition said he should go. 

Maverick parked the bike in a way he would’ve beat himself if he was in a position to care at all. He ran to the wood door and knocked, fist as tight as his jaw. His gaze fixed on the doorknob, only lifting it when the door opened to reveal Sarah wearing a dead worried expression. 

“Mav? What happened?” She exclaimed, her voice soft and low just like Ice’s, while opening the path to welcome him in. 

“Sarah... Ice.” Maverick tried to say, his voice weaky and hoarse. “I… H-he…” 

“Honey,” Sarah closed the door and made a move to hug Maverick, but detained  it when a shiver visibly ran through the man's wet body. “Let me get you a towel and a sweater, or you can get sick.” 

“Ice.” Maverick repeated. 

“Tom’s alright, dear. He’s upstairs in his office, I’m gonna call him in a second. Let’s just put you seated here first.” 

Sarah directed him to the big brown couch in the middle of the room. Maverick didn’t feel himself being steaded or heard Sarah talking to him. The only thing he was feeling was the cold running up and down his spine with sorrow, afraid that whatever trigger his mind pulled was in fact true.

“I’m gonna call Tom, alright? Stay here,  please.” She left, looking over her shoulder, debating if it was the right decision to leave Maverick alone or should she just yell at Tom to come downstairs. 

She decided to run to his office, screaming in these conditions would only scare Maverick even more. 

Sarah opened the door to Ice’s office without knocking, something that she knew her brother hated with a passion, but she would say sorry for that later. 

“Tom,” Ice looked at her from behind his desk, which was covered in papers. He had a tired and sleepy air that quickly got scared away by the alarm in Sarah's face. 

Ice was so focused on the documents about the mission and its development together with a report from Admiral Simpson he didn’t listen to anything that might’ve happened outside the office’s walls. Not even the Kawasaki engine he was so used to. 

“Mav’s here.” Sarah announced. “He doesn’t seem well.” 

“I’m coming.” 

Sarah left in front of him, going in the direction of the bathroom and Ice headed downstairs. He found Maverick in the same position, seated with his elbows reclined on his knees, back tense and shoulders touching his ears. Ice couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t need to, he was familiar with the panicked look Maverick wore in conditions like the one they were probably in now. He used to see the same reflected in the mirror. 

Ice came down on a height that allowed him to see Maverick’s face completely and spoke gently, trying to keep his voice low and firm at the same time.

“Mav, I’m here.” 

“Ice.” Maverick’s voice came out weak, his eyes didn’t meet Ice’s. 

Ice felt a pain squeeze inside of him. 

“Mav, can I touch you?” 

He didn’t answer and Ice didn’t insist. Maverick was shivering, both from the panic and from the cold. His clothes were soaked and a few strays of hair were glued to the sides of his face.

Sarah arrived with towels, a blanket and a sweater on her arms and put the items on the table in front of them. 

“Did he say anything?” She murmured. Ice shook his head without taking his eyes away from Maverick. “Do you think it’s okay if we help him change? He can’t stay in those clothes.” 

Ice made a negative move with his head seeing Maverick tremble even more after hearing Sarah’s voice. 

“Pete, it’s me Sarah, can we help you change, honey?” Sarah imitated Ice’s position, trying to lock her gaze with Maverick’s. 

“Sarah,” Maverick spoke, and Ice felt the sadness in his voice knock him like he was an UFC fighter. “Ice.” 

Maverick had ushered tears threatening to fall, Ice noticed. Maverick leaned in Sarah’s direction and she worriedly wrapped her arms around him, looking over to Tom. 

“Pete, what about Ice?” 

“He can’t leave. He can’t-” Ice almost didn’t hear him, but he read the message for what it seemed to be. 

What the fuck-

Ice’s mind screamed in all directions trying to come up with a solution to a problem he didn’t know how started. He expected Maverick to be upset about the mission. It was very fresh and whatever he went through after his plane exploded was going to terrify him for a long time, but he wasn’t expecting this. 

“Pete, Tom is not going to leave you. He’s right here by my side. He’s alright.” Sarah said while Maverick shook to death in her arms. 

“It’s too soon.” Maverick had the sentence on replay.

Ice didn’t know how to manage any of this. He was good at analyzing crises, not dealing with emotions around them. But he had to try, he thought sharply. Maverick would turn upside down in order to help Ice if he needed. God, he had done just exactly that many times. 

“Pete,” Ice tried, again. “Please, focus on my voice. I’m right here.” 

Sarah looked at him with questioning eyes. 

“He thinks I’m dead.” Ice explained simply. “Pete, I’m here. With you. I didn’t leave and I’m not going to. I’m here.” 

It took both of them a few more minutes to have Maverick get his head out of Sarah’s shoulder and look a bit to his right where Ice was. 

“Mav.” 

“Tom.” 

A single tear in Maverick’s eyes gave up the battle and scrolled down his face, going all the way to his lips. 

“Tom.” 

“Yeah, Mav, it’s me.” Ice took Maverick’s hand in his and held it tight. “Is it okay if we take these clothes off of you? They’re pretty wet.” 

Maverick signed and Ice and Sarah started to help him out of the usual white shirt and jeans. Ice bit his tongue about commenting what he was thinking when he went out in that weather wearing only those, but he quickly reminded himself that Maverick wasn’t thinking at all and right now that was the last of their problems. 

Sarah left them alone after setting a glass of water on the coffee table and making sure Maverick looked a little better than he felt when he arrived. Tom smiled and thanked her with a little sign. 

It wasn’t the first time Sarah had to deal with panic attacks. She was present to a few of Ice’s. She knew how the military and the people in the system worked. She was in the Air Force and married a psychiatrist, it was in her resume already. 

Ice seated by Mavericks side and waited with him, glad Maverick seemed to have left the initial state he was in and that counted as a victory for itself. 

Minutes passed until Maverick spoke quietly.

“Tom?” 

“Yes, Mav?”

“I’m sorry.” Maverick said, his voice still broken. Ice wanted to burn something to the ground. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know you must have a lot of things to deal with right now. The mission, the reports, everything. I would say me, but you have to deal with me all the time.”  

“Hey, none of those matter right now. You’re my first priority, always have been. And I don’t have to deal with you. You’re my friend, remember? I promised to look after you.” 

Maverick tried to smile at that, but all he got was a painful noise. 

“I thought I lost you.” 

Ice waited for him to elaborate, but Maverick didn’t. 

“Do you want to talk about it? It’s alright if you don’t, but I’m here if you want me to listen.” 

“I know. Thanks.” Maverick looked at him for the first time. 

Their eyes met and Maverick felt a piece of his heart being restored while the other broke in even thinner pieces. He loved Tom’s eyes. He thought about how much time he could spend just sitting there, looking at him but stopped when felt his chest squeeze as flashes of the dream crossed his mind. 

Maverick let out a heavy breath, his mouth opening a few times trying to find the right words. It was just Tom, he didn’t need to be afraid, but he had lost him. Not really, but it still feels like he had. He still could feel the pain in his bones, the sadness and grief taking over all his body, a part of his soul leaving with that coffin. 

In that dream one of Maverick’s deepest fears showed itself in the more horrific and severe shape. Maverick still had the jets’ engine in his ears and the wood of the coffin in his palm. He shivered with the thought. 

Rooster had said he would have no one to mourn him when he burned in, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Maverick had too many people to mourn, too much grief to carry on his shoulders. He had lost so many people over the years. He even got used to that. It was morbid, but it was the truth. 

He got used to deal with the pain of Goose’s death, and then Carole’s, the two people he considered his family. Then with Bradley leaving, which he wouldn’t blame him for, he knew what he was doing and what he was risking when he pulled Bradley’s papers. But he couldn’t handle that thought about Tom. 

Not because it meant Tom was above all the others, but because he couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t lose Ice. He couldn’t.

“I-I had a dream. Sort of. Almost a nightmare at this rate. I lost you on it. You were dead. I was at your funeral. I lost you.” Maverick snapped his teeth together. 

“You didn’t lose me.” Ice said right after. 

“I los-” Maverick tried to speak again when Ice cutted him off. 

“You didn’t lose me. I’m here. With you. I’m not leaving you.” 

“You almost did.” Maverick whispered, the words leaving his mouth without thinking. 

Ice strained his posture, a serious look on his face. Maverick knew he could point there was more. 

“Mav, did something else happen?” Besides a suicide mission, two ejections in less than two months, an almost death sentence and physical and psychological damage. 

Maverick didn’t know if he should tell him about his and Rooster’s… conversation. He knew that if he lied to Ice he would know it right away, but he also knew that if he told him about it Ice would fight all his inner demons to not make Bradley’s life miserable. He wouldn’t, though. Ice would never put his feelings and personal thoughts in the middle of his duty. 

But he would consider that for a few minutes. Even if it was the kid he helped raise for years.

“It was about the bird strike. I had a difficult conversation with Bradley after the accident. He was really worried about Phoenix and Bob that day. I went to tell how they were and we had a, uhm, disagreement. But we’re okay now, you know”

Maverick tried to meet Ice’s eyes to make him believe his words. Ice, naturally, didn’t buy it entirely but didn’t confront him about it.

“You want to talk about that?” Ice said instead. 

“Not right now. Maybe later.” 

Ice hummed in response, touching his knees with Maverick’s.  

Maverick rested his head on Ice’s shoulder and Ice involved him in an embrace without hesitating. 

“I should head back.” 

“There’s no fucking way in hell I’m letting you leave like this.” Ice tightened his hold on Maverick unconsciously, making him relax more by his side. 

“You know I shouldn't spend the night here.” 

“Well, I’m the Admiral, anyone who has a problem can come talk to me.” Ice had a light tone in his voice, an indication that was supposed to be a joke and Maverick understood it was one, it wasn’t usual for Ice to pull up his rank.  

“Okay. I’m staying.” 

The clock on Ice’s bedside table marked 4:13 in the fucking morning. 

Ice was never a guy who got much sleep. The years in the military and the time on carriers made his body and mind used to the way everything worked and it included sleep. So even when he was on dry land he would still follow the same patterns, but would lose them after a few days, sometimes weeks. 

But lately he has been sleeping less and less. The cancer, the post as an Admiral, being a Commander of a whole fleet, lives to care for and people to lead made him think that going against MiGs looked like a walk in the park. 

Ice got up and headed to the kitchen, considering if he should try to get more sleep or go back to the office and deal with the piles of paperwork waiting for him. He decided he could give himself a little break, after all if he wasn’t going to sleep, he could at least rest.

At that same time that thought came, another one popped up, remembering him exactly about the lives under his command and the literal security of his country. 

Ice asked himself if the people onboard on carriers and the citizens would be content to know that one of their leaders was fucking resting . He had to deal with the literal security of US matters, lives, aircrafts, approving or denying missions, he had to deal with the country and people’s safety, he couldn’t just go lay down. 

He made a promise when he decided to join the Navy, and he was very conscious that some might consider them just words, but Ice took them to heart. Either he was all completely devoted to his job or he would just retire once and for all. 

Sometimes, on rare good days, he would agree with his therapist when he says Ice can and should take a break. That he’s not a machine, even though he tries very hard to act like one and give a real meaning to his callsign. But Ice would just shake the thoughts away and get back to work as soon as fifteen minutes on his coach passed. 

Ice got to the kitchen lost in thoughts and turned the coffee machine on. The house was silent and he was walking lightly on his feet to try to not make any sounds. Maverick and Sarah had a light sleep so anything unusual would set the both of them wild on their feet. 

But Ice was beaten by his tray of intentions, Maverick was also up. He was on the back porch, staring at the sky.

Ice decided, then, to make two cups of coffee, ignoring Sarah’s voice reprimanding him for his excessive consumption of caffeine. There was no one alive on this Earth capable of making Ice drink a cup of tea so fuck it, he’s totally having his coffee at whatever damn time he wants. 

He got out with his and Mav’s mugs on hand, feeling the cold breeze cut like a sharp razor on his skin. The mugs were a Christmas gift from Pete himself that had fly jets on each with “you're my wingman” written. At first Tom thought those couldn’t be more cringe, he knew Maverick’s intention was to make it a joke, but he learned to love them with time, as he does with everything that has Maverick involved. 

Maverick turned on his heels before Ice could announce himself. The Captain invited Ice to his side with a movement of his head. Ice offered the mug to him and received a sincere and tired smile in return.

“Thank you. I really was needing this.” Maverick got closer, resting his head on Ice’s shoulder, a habit of his that he gained a long time ago. Ice got closer, putting a firm hand on his shoulder in reflex. “Couldn’t sleep?”

He denied with a noise while passing the tip of his nose through Mav’s hair. He felt Maverick’s body relax onto his. Ice’s fingers touched softly the low part of his ribs, where he knew was still healing. You?

“Didn’t feel like it, I guess.”  

“Yeah,” Ice, very eloquently, said. “I think you should take some time for yourself.” 

Maverick huffed. “Look who’s talking.” 

“Charged as guilty.” 

“Sure as hell is.” 

“But I’m serious. You should go do something other than worry about flights.” That reminded Ice about the matters he still had to talk to Pete about, that was his future in the Navy. 

“Maybe you’re right. I was thinking about going back to the hangar, actually. Work on the plane, you know. There’s still a lot to do. I told Bradley about it and he got really excited to see how it's going.” 

“That’s a great idea. I’m sure you’re going to have a good time together.” 

Maverick pushed himself slightly away from Ice, enough to look him in the eyes with a confused expression. “What? You’re not coming?” 

“Didn’t think I was invited.” 

“Bullshit, you’re always invited. You know there isn't a moment that I don’t want you around.” Maverick commented fast, trying not to stumble on his words. “I mean, I know you have work and things will increase with how the mission went, but maybe you could take a few days off? Four or something. Just from Thursday to Sunday. You could help me and we could watch that bunch of movies we didn’t really have the time to see before.” 

Maverick always hambles when he’s trying to cover his thoughts with mixed external things, that was something Tom learned quickly about him. It made it hard to understand what was really happening in Pete's mind at the beginning, and sometimes still does, if Ice’s being honest. But they never covered Maverick’s feelings. He was open about them as much as he could with Ice and Ice built a sense to read under the straps of what Maverick wasn’t saying. 

“You know, that would be great. I still have a reunion with other Admirals to take care of, though.” 

“You can tell them that if you don’t do that I will, I don’t know, steal one of the prototypes for a ride. Might see their opinions on it.” 

Ice rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh. Please, don’t give me more paperwork.

“Then you totally should come with me. Besides, I need someone to drive, since, apparently, I’m not allowed to do that because of my physical condition and stuff.” Maverick wore a proud and malice smile, eyes shining reflecting the Moon’s light.

You drove here, dumbass. And that never stopped you before.

“Yeah, but they don’t know that.” He answered after Ice pointed with finger to the garage, reminding him about his bike.

They fell in a comfortable silence, their bodies close from toes to hips, Maverick’s head still relied on Ice’s shoulder. Ice passed the tip of his nose again on a few strands of Maverick’s hair that reached his face, breathing in every inch of Pete.

“I know you don’t want to talk about this, but” Ice searched for words that wouldn’t make Maverick run away and only come back two days later. “I just want to know how you’re feeling.” 

Maverick glued himself more to Ice, but didn’t change much from the post he had claimed for the time being. 

“I’m always better when I’m around you.” That almost knocked Tom off his feet. He, for sure, wasn’t expecting that. 

A voice in his head pointed out how things have been different between them, but Ice refused to focus on that. He squeezed Maverick’s shoulder.

“I’m used to nightmares.” Maverick continued. “Been having them for a long time to the point I don’t even notice anymore. They’re about, you know, the usual. Goose, the accident. They were about Bradley for a while, too. But I never got used to the ones about you. They’re never about losing you in the skies. I always trusted your abilities to stay safe because you didn’t need me for that.” 

Maverick moved just enough to put his and Ice’s mugs on the bench by their side. Returning to his initial position in sequence. 

“They’re worse. They’re about me losing you on the ground.” 

Tom didn’t need more to understand what the other man was referring to.

“They’re about the sickness.” 

“Yes.” 

“Since when?” 

“The first moment.” 

A bucket of cold water was thrown over him. His body tensed and Maverick moved away, just a little, to look him in the eyes.

“Why didn't you tell me?” 

“So you could worry more about me? You already had a lot on your plate. No, you needed to focus on getting better. It was our job to look after you, not the other way around.”

“Fuck that.” Ice replied, anger and frustration destroying the gates in his throat. He could feel it start to get uncomfortable from the use, but ignored it. 

Back in the moment there wasn’t, in fact, much he could’ve done. He was so sick and tired. Going from appointment to appointment, then to the office on base, taking pills after pills while still dealing with documents, reports and reunions. He could’ve taken a time off from the Navy, it was more than once suggested, but the answer was always the same, a big and flat no. But none of that made the guilt growing inside of him any less excruciating. 

“I’m sorry I never noticed.” He whispered. 

“It wasn’t for you to notice.” Maverick whispered back. 

“I don’t care. I should’ve known that what happened would leave some scars on you too. I never stopped to think about that. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t. Don’t do that. You don’t have to know everything, Tom. Some things are ours to handle. You don’t have to save us, save me, all the time. You should look after yourself too. You’re allowed that much.” 

“Not when the people I love are suffering.” 

“I appreciate what you're doing, as I do with everything you do, but don't do this. Don’t blame yourself for something you didn’t and couldn’t know about. I’m fine. We’re fine knowing now that you are fine and safe.” 

Ice looked at Maverick and he would've kissed him right then and there. Just that. Simple and easy, as if they’ve done that before. But they haven’t. So he smiled, his usually small left sided smile. Maverick smiled back, his eyes never leaving his gaze. 

“Do you want pancakes for breakfast?” Maverick asked. Ice laughed, trying to make the pain in his chest go away. 

If there was something that Tom Kazansky liked more than silence, it was peace, but funny enough he always found himself in positions he wasn’t able to get either. 

The days after the night with Mav in his porch passed by quickly and turbulent, his work colleagues competing with each other about who could bring him more bad news. 

Meanwhile he still had to deal with reunions about the mission, a matter that he would very much love to say has had enough, but knew was more delicate than that. Mainly when there were two US Navy jets on enemy soil, a stolen Tomcat on base in San Diego and the goddamn media wouldn’t let those details drop. 

Plus to all that, he woke up with a headache making his life hell and Sarah has been forming circumferences on his ears for twenty minutes.

Today was the day he and Maverick were going on a little getaway, as his sister pointed out, and he was doing his best to make his mood improve, although nothing he tried has worked so far. 

"So, since you're gonna be away with Mav for a few days, don't you think you should take the time and tell him about how you feel?" 

Ice made a noise behind his coffee mug to please Sarah as she kept talking.  

"I'm serious. What you have been through for the last three years and Mav having to face two ejections in such a short time…" Ice raised an eyebrow in her direction, amused that she knew about a classified matter, but not surprised. She snorted. 

"C'mon I know the signs of an ejection when I see one, okay? He has suffered a lot and so have you. I'm tired of watching you two just walk around each other without making a move." 

Let’s not talk about that now. Especially today. Ice signed instead. 

“I know what you’re gonna say. I know you’re afraid, you both are, but the only thing that would change is that it would be official because you know he already belongs to you.” 

A pain much like needles crossed Tom's heart. He didn't flinch, already used to the sensation. His mouth went dry and he lowered his head, refusing to meet Sarah's eyes. For anyone else it would be hard, almost impossible, work to read the Iceman, but to Sarah it was like seeing her reflex on water. 

“You're being too romantic." 

"I know Mav, and I have eyes, Tom.” She said, ignoring his comment. “I see how he looks at you, how he adores you. It's the same way he looked at you when you met and it never changed. He wouldn't have gone against an Admiral's order for you if he didn't love you just as much." 

Going against an Admiral's order for me?  

“Mav going against orders is not new." 

"You're right, it isn't, but he's not used to going against direct orders." Sarah replied under Ice's sharp gaze. While others might shake or be uncomfortable, she just held it like it was nothing. 

Ice was silent, so she continued.

"God, he's gonna be so mad that I said anything, but you should ask him about it. Just, please, Tom, you two have gone through a lot, it's about time you get a grip about how you feel." 

The door rang right when Iceman was about to say something in return. He caught the duffel bag and left the kitchen, more than ready to put an end to the topic. Sarah followed him close behind, breathing down his neck, the way she does when she really wants Tom to pay attention to what she's demanding, something she has done since they were kids. 

The door opened and revealed Maverick bouncing on his heels, hands loose in front of his body and a proud bright grin on his face.  

"Ice… man ." 

Tom smiled at Maverick, trying to cover his early irritation. He knew no one had to put up with his bullshit, especially those two. 

"Hey, Pete." Sarah hugged Mav tight. 

Ice still got caught off guard over the friendship his sister and wingman built around the years and how close they got after the last thirty-two or so months. 

"Sarah. It's good to see you. You sure you don't want to come with us?" 

"Unfortunately I'm gonna have to pass. Joel is coming to take me back to San Francisco for a few days. Meet his new partner, I think. I can't track his record anymore." 

"The kid sure has moves. Let me know how that went." Mav said laughing to Sarah's pained expression. 

"Just tell him. I don't wanna know." Ice said, receiving a laugh in return from the other two, and pointed to the car with his head indicating that they needed to go.

"Right, yes. Say hi to Joel to me, will you? And tell him to show up more. It's been ages since I saw him. And to bring his partner, too." 

The Kazansky's siblings replied at the same time. One way more warm than the other. 

"I will. Thank you, Mav." 

"Please, if it's like the last one, tell him to never make us meet someone again until he's sure." 

"I also will say that. Thank you, Tommy ." She emphasized the nickname she knew makes Ice roll his eyes deep inside. 

They took the road without facing too much traffic. Mav was in charge of the music, as he always was whenever they traveled together. 

He was going through his playlist, adding song after song straight out of the 80’s when Def Leppard’s Too Late for Love started. Maverick was humming along with the lyrics when Ice cleared his throat to call his attention. 

“Does Bradley know I’m coming?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Maverick mumbled, distracted by the various choices of songs in front of his eyes. “He does. Why?” 

“Is he okay with that?” 

Maverick locked the cellphone and stared at Tom. No trait of humor in his green orbits.

“Ice, Bradley idolizes you. Always have. He knows you’re coming and he’s okay with that. I can assure you.”

Yes, Pete Mitchell knew really well how to be serious when he wanted to. 

Ice couldn’t name how much he dislikes the desert even if he knew all the words both in English and Russian. 

The more than four hours of driving was too long. The heat and lack of humidity in the Southern area was making him feel every fiber of his neck melt and he was certain that his fingers got glued to the steering wheel at some point. 

Maverick, on the opposite side, was glowing under the fiery late August Sun. He had closed his eyes and the visible smile on his face showed how clearly happy to be near the sunbeams he was. 

That was, in Ice’s humble opinion, the only reasonable reason he agreed to come all the day from San Diego, cross more than 400 km and leave the comfort of his home and air-conditioner. 

Ice didn’t find it odd to see that Maverick had transformed the old and abandoned hangar into almost a home. All the bikes, tools, aviators and books were well organized, every single thing in their right place.

What Tom did find strange was how clean all of the items along with the floor and the trailer that occupied the center of the hangar were. 

After more than eight weeks he supposed the sand would’ve already taken place in every corner possible. 

“Did you come here recently?” 

“Yeah,” Maverick responded, distracted, taking the shopping bags inside the trailer. “I came here to clean everything two days ago. You know, all the dust and sand wouldn’t be good for you. What do you think of some salad and chicken for lunch?”

Thirty years together, serving together, flying together, seeing each other's good and bad moments, and Tom still couldn’t believe the things Pete Mitchell would do for others, dedicating everything he had without expecting anything in return. 

Lunch was chill and relaxed. They didn’t talk about work or any world-ending situation, only going from one random topic to another. During the afternoon, Maverick accepted Ice’s help on rebuilding parts of the left wing of the P-51 he looked at like it was his child right there. A 3.465 kg child that could fly up to 703 km/h. 

Bradley arrived hours later, all the aviator persona long forgotten. His curly hair had a few strays falling in his eyes that were uncovered by the sunglasses. The soft blue Hawaiian shirt falling perfectly on his broad shoulders. His brown eyes searched every spot in the hangar until they landed on Maverick smiling coming in his direction with Ice close on his tail. 

“Hey, glad you could make it.” Maverick greeded. 

“Thanks for inviting me again.” Bradley’s voice got cornered in the middle of the tight hug Maverick gave him. 

Ice stood five feet from them, waiting for who would make the first move. The men in front of him exchanged a few more words before the kid’s eyes landed shyly on Ice. 

Bradley took a moment, searching for which words he should use to be the first to meet the man who he also considered a father figure, but one he hadn't seen in more than ten years. The man who also was his prime time boss and could make his life hell. 

Iceman waited patiently while Maverick looked from one to the other hopefully. Then, decided to make Bradley’s life a little bit easier, testing his surroundings. 

“Bradley.” 

“Hey, uhm, Uncle Ice. I mean, Sir.” He approached Ice carefully, like a monkey seeing a human offering him food. 

Maverick was almost jumping from nervous energy by their side. Ice knew he wanted to make the meeting less awkward, but felt grateful that he let them figure this out themselves. 

“Good to see you’re well, kid.” 

“Thank you, you too, Sir.” 

“Come on, leave the Sir to base.” Ice ignored the tropes in his mind that were prepared for a battle, telling him to wait a little longer to see what would happen. What for, he wasn’t sure exactly. He, then, pulled Bradley into a hug, the younger man quickly relaxing in his arms, returning the gesture. “Missed you, B.”

“Missed you too, Uncle Ice.” 

The day after that passed by quickly, as if what was holding it back was an invisible tension. 

Bradley took a while to get back in his normal self, Ice could tell. Ice watched him from afar, searching for Bradley’s thoughts through his actions. The kid seemed uneasy, not sure what to do or say, especially around him. He lingered too long before initiating a comment or was shy to meet Ice's looks. 

The Admiral let him be, giving him time to adjust to a frequency he hasn’t been familiar with for ages. Maverick, on the other hand, was acting like usual, talking and moving around like he was connected to a 220 volts battery. 

Ice still finds it amusing how Maverick could have so much energy after years of service and work. 

By night time, Ice and Bradley’s dynamic had shifted slightly. Ice noticed that Bradley started to feel less nervous around him and became accustomed again with Maverick’s ramble as he and Ice exchanged words throughout the day and made sure to include Bradley in the conversation.

A few hours filled with grease and loud music later, Ice found himself inside a house he had no idea existed till ten minutes ago. 

The small house Maverick somehow managed to build in the last three years without Tom’s knowledge was centered on the left side of the hangar and contained more furniture than his base house during Top Gun graduation.  

“We’re not really staying on the trailer. It’s nice and all, but I don’t think it’s gonna be comfortable for the three of us.” Maverick announced, moments ago. 

Ice looked around with a skeptic look. You think? 

Maverick laughed. “We’re staying at the house.” 

“House?” Ice and Bradley asked, confused. 

“The house Hondo and I built.” He answered, simply. 

“What?” 

“We had a lot of free time between the tests and search.” 

“So you decided to build a house?” Ice cleaned his hand on Maverick’s white shirt. Maverick gave him a fake upset look to which Ice pointedly ignored. Bradley laughed at them. 

“You know I can’t stand still for too long. Hondo decided to help me after I dislocated my shoulder.” 

“After you what?” Ice said, alarmed. That was new information. 

Maverick made a guilty face and a silent “oh” left his mouth. He clearly wasn’t supposed to have said that. 

Bradley went silent, watching them discuss. 

“When did that happen and why didn’t I know about it?” 

His wingman covered his discomfort with a cough and Bradley went inside the trailer after murmuring he was gonna grab some water. 

“You were, uh, busy with the, you know, treatment.” Maverick turned his back to Ice, taking off some part of the plane’s fuselage. 

Ice dropped the matter, letting the growing fury die before it could emerge. 

So there he was, inside a house built by Maverick and Hondo, the WSO Ice unofficially designed to keep a close look on Maverick while he couldn’t. 

He took a shower while Maverick and Bradley took place in the kitchen, starting dinner. Or rather, Maverick cooking and the kid following what he was told to do. 

Bradley had as much skills in the kitchen as Ice, which was the basic for survival. 

After dinner, Ice did the dishes as he usually does when they eat together and Bradley offered to help him after a non-verbal conversation he had with Maverick. The Captain encouraged Rooster with a look and soft expression that Tom pretended to be unaware of. 

Ice wasn’t good at small talk. He always agreed to let people come to him if they wanted and was completely fine if they chose to not initiate a conversation. But having the kid he saw grow up in front of his eyes, one that he wasn’t sure would ever get to have side by side again, boosted him to at least try. 

And to his surprise, or not, Bradley opened paths for a talk way more animated than he initially hoped for. He filled Ice in on his degree in Aeroespacial Engineering, the same Ice did, and talked about the group of friends he made during his last deployment. 

Still talking, they made their way back to the hangar with Maverick looking not so discreetly at them from his spot beneath the Mustang. 

Bradley turned the TV on a baseball game and Ice handed him a can of soda. 

Ice got lost in thoughts while Bradley talked directly to the screen. The narrator and the game sounds pathed a way in his mind which Tom couldn’t help walk down on. His eyes flew outside, where Maverick was murmuring something to himself, a furrow taking place in his forehead, his hands covered in grease and instruments strangely organized around him. 

The speakers were still on, Morten Harket’s voice filling the garage singing Forever Not Yours, a song Tom learned to recognize after hearing Maverick singing one too many times. Their eyes met after Mav sensed Ice’s attention on him. He smiled at him, the wrinkle in his skin disappearing. They held each other's gaze for a while, until a scream of frustration coming from Bradley made Ice break the invisible line to Pete. 

Bradley was pointing at some player in clear noiance about the team’s performance. Ice looked at Maverick again, but the other wasn’t in Ice’s view field anymore. 

“God, you're insufferable.” 

Ice turned to Bradley with an raised eyebrow. The other pilot only laughed, shaking his head. 

“You two. You still haven’t solved this thing between you.” 

Ice only stared back at him.

“C’mon, Uncle Ice, you know I know you know very well what I’m talking about,” Bradley laid the soda on the coffee table. “You guys have this look every time the other is around or is mentioned. Always has. I grew up seeing you looking at each other like there was no one else in the world.” 

Ice stared at the kid, choosing mentally between ignoring his comment or changing the subject, but he knew Bradley. He knew if he ignored him he would find another approach and if he changed the subject he would come around and bring it up when he thought Ice had his guard down. He was a prey animal like that. 

“You talk like you know the feeling.” Ice said, finally, not enough energy to come up with any other comment. 

“You don’t need me to tell you things you already know.” 

“Contrary to popular belief I don’t know everything about my pilots lives.” 

“Well, the others are not your kids.” Bradley’s brown eyes almost seemed like flames at his own words, a known smirk proudly in the corner of his lips. 

Ice felt himself smile fondly at the word. It felt good to have Bradley around and to hear him say such things after all they went through. Tom didn’t expect them to fall into normality in the near future, but maybe that could change. 

“You’re right.” Ice agreed, smiling openly. “So you confirm it.” 

Bradley laughed again, his cheeks colored in a shade of pink, his eyes searching for any other point but the Admiral’s. 

“I need a confession first if I’m gonna make my own.”

“You don’t need a confession for something you already know.” Ice repeated Bradley’s words, chuckling, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“It goes both ways, then.” Smart sneak kid. Ice was happy beyond words to have him back. 

They were used to playing this game of hide and seek. A lifetime ago, when Bradley was still growing up, they would throw words out in the open field so the other could catch it like a father and son playing in the backyard. 

As a teenager Bradley would lock himself in his room for hours trying to solve whatever he had in his mind, sometimes to a point that Maverick would call Ice asking him to come around. Then, using the Kazansky charm, as Mav called, Bradley would open the door and they would talk. In their dynamic, the other understood clearly what was being said. Apparently Bradley wore one or two things from Tom after all. 

“It’s complicated.” The younger man said after a while. 

Ice nodded both in understanding and in encouragement for him to continue. It always is.

“Yeah,” Bradley played with his thumbs, crossing them on and on, an old habit of his. “I really liked him, but things… didn’t work out at the time. A lot of things didn’t work out back then, to be honest. I pushed him away and lost him.” 

“Maybe you can have another chance now. If you’re willing to open up and share a few of your wounds.” 

Bradley tried to cover the sad look that took place in his eyes turning his head to the TV, but not really paying attention to it. 

“I don’t think he can forgive me after the things I said to him. After I left him.” 

“Well, it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation and it’s not a crime to explain things. Ask him to listen to you. Explain yourself and your reasons to him.” Ice breathed in, his eyes running to Maverick. “If he’s worth as much as he looks like he is, you should try.” 

“And you should follow your own advice.” 

There it was. Bradley was always good at responding to things like his tongue was on fire, just like Maverick. He was also good at making things reflect, turning the conversation towards something else when it was getting too personal, just like Ice. 

They smiled fondly. 

Bradley returned his attention back to the game, passing his fingers distractedly in the scar on his face. From afar it almost looked imperceptible, but for someone who knew what to look for would see it right away. 

Tom remembered clearly the story about how Bradley got that. It was one of the many secrets he had to keep to himself after he started climbing the ranks and his job got more and more secretive. 

Ice was flying less and less at that time. Getting in a cockpit was a privilege more than a normal day to day occurrence as it used to be. He was going back and forth in airports and commercial flights, traveling national and international, taking care of USNA matters.

An aircraft was sent to USS Dwight D. Eisenhower back in the day when the Afghanistan Campaign was at its peak. He and other officers had orders to see and analyze the fleet strategies and capacities. It was an in and out visit, less than twenty-four hours staying.

Ice was in the middle of a briefing with other Commanders and Admirals when the news of an ejection arrived. 

It wasn't normal to receive that kind of information, but considering the scenario it was expected. A live report came informing that three pilots had ejected and were being brought back in an unknown health state. Ice announced he would be paying them a visit once they were safe and resting, something out of the ordinary for an officer in his rank, but no one said otherwise.

The pilots, unlike some people within the Navy might think, were real people. Human beings with hopes, dreams, families and friends, and Ice always made sure to show how much they shouldn't be treated as machines like their planes. He thought that if he acted like he cared, maybe other people would follow his example and start doing the same.

Ice paid his visit to Lieutenant James Ross and Lieutenant Liz McMillan, or Pope and Fox as they were known, before he was directed to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw’s bey. The blood in his veins ran cold. Bradley wasn’t supposed to be there. Ice tracked down his footsteps only a few weeks ago, making sure he was safe, or the safest someone could be on a naval carrier flying at Mach 3 minimum.

Again, Bradley wasn’t supposed to be there. At all. He was supposed to be stationed in Japan at that time, not in the Middle East. 

Iceman downloaded Bradley's file immediately, seeing that he had volunteered and had arrived five days before just to be sent down because of a bird strike. He spent two hours in the open sea with the others waiting for help.

A heated battle was occurring in Ice's inner self, trying to decide if he should call Maverick and tell him what happened and risk his wingman having a panic attack with no one he trusted enough to look after him, or just drop it and not say a single word about his godson.

Bradley had been sleeping the whole time Ice was there. The nurse informed he was under painkillers to relieve the discomfort of his injuries. A sprained knee, a concussion, bruises and a wound in his left cheek that was caused by his oxygen mask somehow clinging to his skin, that left a scar as predicted.

Iceman had wanted to stay till he woke up to make sure he wasn’t alone, but he had orders to take the next helicopter back to dry land. Also he didn’t want to shake Bradley off even more by being there, expecting the kid to still be mad and not wanting to see either him or Maverick.

So he left the medical division without looking back and instructed the pilot who was waiting in the hallway to make sure Bradley was cared for.

As if Bradley could read Ice’s train of thought, he locked his gaze on him and stopped his index finger right at the top of the scar. 

"Phoenix told me you were there and that you told her to look after me. Thank you for that, Uncle Ice." The kid said with honest emotion in his voice. “And thank you for not telling Mav about it. He would’ve been pretty damn worried."

"I’m not proud of keeping that from him, though." 

“I know, but thank you either way.”

Ice smiled warmly in hope his expression could pass to Bradley the comfort he needed. Of course, B. 

“What about we get some food?” Maverick’s voice came from the garage at the same time, getting closer and closer as he ran in their direction, happy as a golden retriever seeing snow for the first time, hair floating in the air, wet with sweat. 

Ice smiled at the comparison, pretty aware of Bradley’s eyes scanning their every move.

It always gets darker than words can express in the desert. That was probably the only thing, besides Maverick, that made Ice extend his visit for more than a day. 

He had only paid a limited number of visits to the Mojave complex. The treatments and his wavering health conditions for the past three years playing the main character in the Shakespeare novel that had been Admiral Thomas Kazansky’s life. 

There was one thing that Ice agreed to take as a good point from those moments, though. He had a lot of time to think about his life in general, from the career choice to his decision to not fall into the conventional lane of marriage and kids, of his own at least. 

Ice never regretted that. Still doesn’t. For many of his prior superiors and counselors to show up at Navy balls and parties, plus barbecues with higher hanks where all the politics happened, would make the Force doubt his image and therefore his compromise and integrity. 

But Ice always trusted his skills most, always believed the people who wanted, and maybe even needed, him would put the tradition aside and give him a chance. 

Eventually that happened. Nights awake, extra hours, prolonged deployments, accepting being sent to places that were even forgotten by God just to get nice recommendations from a renowned Commander took him to the position he’s in and does justice to his legacy.  

Ice had a purpose that was always clear to him, to be the best he could be in whatever it was that he decided to do with his life. He always intended to help and to represent people, speak for the ones that couldn’t and act on their behalf. He had done that, still does that. 

He didn’t have many regrets, but there was one that tormented him for more than thirty years. 

Iceman wasn’t supposed to fall in love. He was a creation intended to serve, unmovable mostly, but flexible if needed. Thomas Kazansky, on the other hand, fell hard from the first moment he properly laid his eyes on Maverick. 

He had heard of Maverick, of course he had. Ice wasn’t one to gossip, however he never shut his ears to possible information that he may need later. He heard about Cougar, about the MiGs, about a pilot pulling some “batshit crazy ass move up there”. 

Ice didn’t have a name initially, only a description, but when he read the names that would be joining Top Gun and he saw Nick Bradshaw something told him that that and the mysterious pilot were related. Goose had a good finger to find trouble even if he usually would try to make it look like he wanted to run from them. 

The night in the O’Club was the point that his heart started to skip a beat after another and from that on Ice doubled his commitment to not let emotions show in his face, or otherwise things would get out of control. 

It happened anyway. He thought it would last the time in the school alone, the graduation day being the farewell for both the madness and the uncontrollable desire. Ice wasn’t expecting the Layton and the friendship that formed after it to happen and turn into a constant in his life ever since. 

Thirty years later he gave up trying to hide his feelings and got used to the electric waves inside his veins everytime Maverick was mentioned. 

Together they built a relationship strong and comfortable enough that guided Tom to a place he could find peace with whatever he got.

Here in the middle of nowhere in Mojave, with the night sky clean as can only be found onboard a carrier, Bradley sleeping with his head hanging to the side on the couch and Pete kicking rocks by his side, Ice could smile without the longing consuming him. 

“I wanted to ask you something.” Ice voiced, carefully. 

“Shoot.” Maverick said while kicking another rock. 

“Sarah said something about what you had to do to stay around when I told you about the cancer diagnosis. Something about going against an Admiral's order.” He watched Maverick stop what he was doing immediately and went quiet, almost still, as if that would make Ice think he wasn’t there. 

Ice waited and saw Maverick get lost in thoughts while staring to the horizon. He was about to suggest they forget he said anything when Maverick spoke, his voice low. 

“I found out before you told me. Slider plays golf every Sunday with Admiral Nicholson, you know. He told Slider about how I pissed him off and how he was about to send me to nowhere in the Indian Ocean for so long I would forget how it felt to drive a car. Slider called me the same night saying all kind of things about how could I fuck up so bad to have to leave you right at that moment. I didn’t understand what he was talking about so he told me about the dia- about the can- well, about you.” 

Maverick took a deep breath, goosebumps running through his arms. Three years and two treatments after and he still couldn’t voice the words. God, he couldn’t even think of them. 

“I didn’t believe him. I mean, of course you would’ve told me that kind of thing, but then he said he had to find out on his own because you didn’t want anyone to know. I still didn’t believe him because it was me , you would have told me. He then said I should go and see you, that way maybe you'd tell me. That’s when I showed up at your office the other day.” 

Ice remembers the scene clearly. Ice was in the middle of a virtual reunion to discuss the matters of a new set of armament when his secretary called to inform about Maverick’s presence. He found it curious that Maverick was there at the same time he agreed to call him and talk about his health. Ice thought it was a simple coincidence. Clearly it wasn’t. 

“I wanted to ask you right away, but I also wanted you to tell me when you felt comfortable. After you, uhm, well, after you confirmed… I lost it.” The brunet pilot lifted his head to the sky quickly, not giving enough time for Ice to see it, but he knew if he was able to, Maverick would have pain and despair written all over it. “You have no idea how I felt. I would’ve done anything to be with you, to never leave your side. To take the pain away from you because you didn't deserve that shit." 

Maverick stared at Ice deadly, eyes red and bright with hot angry tears. He was so furious about the destiny and life for putting Thomas Jacob Kazansky, his Tom, in that condition. In that suffering. 

"So I went to Admiral Nicholson and, yes, I fucking begged him to let me stay. I said he could’ve put me in whatever duty he wanted, I would even get behind a goddamn desk because I wouldn't fucking leave you."

Maverick stopped again, this time to breathe through the few tears leaving his eyes. His throat felt tight and his chest heavy, his hands were sweating in his pockets. His shoulders were flexed towards his ears, trying to help him get through the story without seeming more vulnerable than he already was. 

He sniffed, used one hand to wipe a tear and quickly shoved it back in the pocket again.

“He pitted me or something, so he sent me to Mojave, said something about dealing with Cain to be punishment enough already. I accepted, of course, it didn’t matter who I’d have to deal with, it was the near I could be to you. I told Slider to never say a word about any of this, but of course that big head opened his mouth.” 

“Sarah probably threatened him.” Ice whispered, an attempt to cover the wetness in his own voice.

“Probably. You Kazanskys can be pretty scary when you want to.” Maverick had his head turned to the side, using the shadows to hide him. 

Ice took a few steps in his direction, slow and loud, letting the other man become aware of his close presence. Once by his side, Ice took Maverick’s face on his left hand and turned it over and that’s when it hit him. 

There were all kinds of emotions on his face, from anger to love. His eyes were shining, but not because of the tears he gave up fighting to not let fall. No, it was something else and was right there, open and clear, visible to Ice for the first time in thirty years. Or the first time he really looked at it. 

It wasn't any news that Mav wore his heart on his sleeve. He always puts everything he has in the things he does, but he's also so good at hiding things when he wants that it's a deep pleasure to Tom to realize Maverick's not only letting him see his feelings, he's letting Tom feel cared and loved. All that with only a look. 

Sarah's words crossed Ice's mind, her voice gentle saying how much they suffered. And she was right, they did suffer. And Ice was afraid. He wasn't known for doing unplanned things. He's a controller and a calculated cold-hearted strategist, but he also loves everything in its entirety, so it's not a surprise he loves Maverick with everything he has as well. Neither of them was really good at doing things halfway. If it wasn't all, then there would be none at all. 

Not for the first time Ice thinks about kissing Maverick. He thought about that time enough to be ashamed to realize he would run out of fingers if he tried to count, but it's the first time he actually does something about it.

So there goes Thomas Kazansky, in the direction of Pete Mitchell, slowly, letting the other predict his movements, letting him know that he could deny it at any moment and Ice would back off immediately. But Pete doesn't move, he only waits, telling Tom without using words that it’s fine. Letting him know that he would wait if Tom wasn't ready. 

But they've already wasted too much time and Ice is sick of postponing it. He shuts all the voices of his inner protective system telling him to just wait and think it all over. Instead he keeps getting closer to Maverick. 

"I'm gonna kiss you now. Is that alright for you?"

"It's more than alright for me."