A/N: Another warning, pls be careful! Sorry if y'all cry, but it was necessary to have in this chapter, some thought here may be considered suicidal to some people, I didn't try to add it because I personally don't like it (who does?) but it may come across as that for some people. This should be the worst of it, good luck!
Day? Time?
Maverick stood paralyzed, staring in shock at the scene in front of him. Rather, at the person laying in before him.
Rooster, just like himself not too long ago, was strapped tightly to a metal table. He was so pale. He looked so weak. So...fragile. Mav stumbled painfully forward to the table, his heart in his throat and tears prickling in his eyes. Rooster's eyes were open, but they were unseeing, glazed over in immense pain. His breathing was feeble, irregular, weak. His head was bleeding…he was bleeding everywhere. What did they do to him?
Maverick lost control of his emotions and yelled at Rooster, he didn't care who heard him, he just needed him to acknowledge that he was here.
"Rooster! Rooster, look at me, kid!" Maverick gently slapped Rooster's cheeks. "Kid, c'mon, please, please, please! Look at me!" A sob broke loose when Rooster stared blanking at the white ceiling.
"Bradely! Baby Goose! C'mon kid!" Maverick pleaded, leaning protectively over his body, tears streaming down his cheeks, "I promised. Please be okay. Bradley…." He choked out.
The door was suddenly swung open, soldiers marching in quickly with their guns pointed at him. Maverick leaned over Rooster's body more, practically hugging the young man. A doctor burst into the room, his cheeks flushed angrily. He pointed at Maverick, shouting something in some foreign language. Two soldiers walked forward confidently, trying to pry Mav off Rooster.
Maverick clung desperately to Rooster, shouting, screaming, begging, to stay. The soldiers grabbed him roughly by the arms, dragging him unceremoniously off Rooster. "NO!" Maverick screamed, his voice breaking as tears ran freely down his face. He didn't care. That was his godson.
He promised to take care of him.
"NO! Rooster!" He was getting dragged out the door. Maverick reached out his arms, tugging at the stronger soldiers grip, willing for Rooster to sit up and reach out to him. But he didn't.
"Rooster! NO! Please…" he was whispering now as he was being dragged down the dark, claustrophobic hallway. "Bradley…please…"
They injected some sort of medicine into his arm. His already completely exhausted body leaned forward limp now. He couldn't control anything. Everything felt numb and heavy. He was delirious, feverish. He didn't understand anything happening around him now. Only one thing stayed engraved in his head.
Protect Bradley. Protect Bradley. Protect Bradley.
Then he was falling. Falling. Falling. Darkness.
Lights. Pain. Screaming. His screaming. Guilt, endless, helpless guilt, weighting him down more than he cared to admit. People were leaning over him, asking him questions he really didn't know how to answer, and some he couldn't answer. More pain. Tears. Darkness again.
He was exhausted; emotionally, physically.
Why wouldn't stop? Please, make it stop…please.
It felt as though he were floating in the clouds. Everything was dark, cool, quiet and peaceful. There was zero pain here. Not now, not yet. A safe haven when he succumbed to unconsciousness. He wished he could stay there. There was no problems, no worry. But always, one thought kept nagging him in the back of his head, kept bringing him back to the painful light.
Protect Bradley.
Mav woke up slowly, heartrate skyrocketed, sweat covering his body. He felt like he was burning up, on fire. A fever most likely caused by the infection(s?) from the bullet wound. But…thankfully, there was no other person in the room, not any more. Unfortunately, it may be because they were with Rooster.
Maverick felt so weak. His legs felt like lead. He couldn't think straight, and every thought he did think was muddled and fuzzy. What was wrong with him? Oh…yeah…he had a fever. Why does that medicine bottle look like it has a smiley face on it? Mav chuckled, but it hurt his throat. Then he frowned. Why was he chuckling? He must have a high fever. He heard the ticking of a clock on the wall.
Tick toc. Tick toc. Tick toc…
It was like a soft lullaby, pulling him back into the depths of sleep and unconsciousness. Darkness, coolness…peace.
When he woke up again, he still fight extremely weak, but he also felt slightly replenished. Mav groaned inwardly, not wanting to talk because of his swollen throat. He had to escape. He had to get Rooster. He had to escape. He had to get Rooster. He had to…wait a minute.
Mav glanced at himself. There was no binding. It was a miracle! They must've thought he was too weak to do any escaping. Or maybe they did something…he didn't know. Idiots. Maverick sat up.
He was immediately struck with a long spell of dizziness. The world seemed like it would never stop spinning. Bile rose to his throat, threatening to expel, but he pushed it back down. This was no time to be sick! He had a job to do. A mission. He swung his weak legs over the table, adrenaline beginning to pulse through his veins as his body realized what he was doing. Maverick shook his head to clear the cobwebs. They must have put him on some sort of drug. Where was the door?
He took a glance around the room. Oh, there it is. Silly, he was looking directly at it. Maverick stumbled forward, stopping when he felt a prick in is arm. He looked sluggishly down. Oh, he was attached to some wires. Gritting his teeth, Maverick yanked them out, feeling a sharp pain in his wrist momentarily. Limping to the door, he pushed it open.
Wow, they really didn't know how to guard prisoners. Maybe they were new to it? Or it could be they were truly idiots. The hallway was once again empty. He turned left, walking a few paces down the dark hallway, and pushed open the metal door. Either it was a miracle, or plain dumb luck, or even both, but there was no one in the room except for the prone figure laying on the table.
Unlike some people, Maverick learned from his mistakes. Most of the time. Sometimes. Maybe like 30% of the time. Point was he knew not to shout. Mav quickly staggered to Rooster's table and started undoing the straps.
"It's okay, baby," he whispered, "I'm here. I'm not leaving you."
Not again.
With shaky fingers, Maverick undid the last strap, tucking his arms under Rooster's back and knees. He wasn't really sure if he'd be able to hold him. At first, he did stagger, losing balance, but Mav quickly regained it and moved quickly out to the hallway.
Which way? Left, or right? Well, he'd already gone left before, so Maverick proudly decided to go right this time.
Carrying Rooster in a bridal hold (he wasn't too heavy), Maverick quickly marched (if you could call it that) down the hallway, almost running into a wall…no wait…It was a corner.
Maverick turned the corner and found stairs…Grrreeaatttt*….. Just exactly what he need right now. Maverick shook the thought away. He didn't want to push his luck too far. Getting up the stairs took a good, hard long ten minutes. And Rooster still hadn't even stirred in his arms. Mav was worried.
Rounding yet another corner, Maverick pressed himself quickly into a little cranny when a soldier walked past. His already speeding heartrate seemed to go just a little higher.
Mav was mostly sure he was experiencing the adventure of ten lifetimes in that week alone. And that was saying a lot.
Then he heard it.
The opening of a large metal door, the rush of frigid cold air. Thank goodness, he's found the entrance. Now the main problem was how to get out unnoticed. Actually, no, the main problem was to make sure they could both get out alive. Golly, being feverish made you think differently.
When he saw that the coast was clear, Maverick staggered out of his terrible hiding place, towards freedom. Maneuvering his arm so his hand could open the door, but also so as to not drop Rooster in the process, Maverick opened the door.
The sudden rush of cold wind blowing in his face made him more alert. A cold shiver ran up his spine, almost causing him to drab Bradley.
Footsteps. He heard the sharp sound of boots on the concrete ground. He had to go, he had to run. He couldn't get caught. Not again. He didn't think he could make it if he got caught again. Rushing out the door, Maverick raced down the gravely dirt path, running into the trees that protected the road from being spotted from above. So, maybe the enemies were a little smart after all.
His arm were starting to tire out. His thigh was killing him. He was dizzy. The adrenaline that had previously gotten him out of the building was quickly leaving his body, and all the pain that seemed to numbed came thundering back, seventy-fold. Maverick stumbled on an invisible root, fell, rolling just in time to save Rooster from further pain. He let out a pained grunt as he rolled to his side to check Rooster.
Rooster groaned, his eyes fluttering a little. Oh, his eyes…Sure, they were still glazed over in pain, but Rooster was finally acknowledging that Maverick was there.
"Mav…" his whispered, his voice hoarse. Probably from the screaming. Tears rose to his eyes. "Mav!" he cried, "Mav, oh praise the Lord, oh you're alive!" Sobs wrecked his body. It may have been from the cold too. He wasn't sure. "I thought you were dead."
"Shhh…." Maverick put a finger gently on his lips, "It's okay. I gotcha. I gotcha and I'm not letting go."
He hugged Rooster to himself. He wasn't letting go. The cold wind shivered around them, and it was getting dark. They needed to find shelter quickly, or they may be caught again. But neither of them felt like moving just yet. They were too weak, to touch deprived.
Mav suddenly remembered what was in his pocket, shifting over and grabbing his radio.
One last time.
One last time, he'd try.
Maybe. Just maybe, it would work. For Rooster.
He pressed channel 15, and clicked the talk button, taking a deep breath.
"Dagger one? Do you copy?"