I found out a friend died yesterday so I'm living through some of what our favorite pilots are going through in this story. As such this chapter doesn't cover everything I wanted it to but…ya know. Enjoy.
I grieve, for you
You leave, me
So hard to move on
Still loving what's gone
They say life carries on
- "I Grieve," Peter Gabriel
That evening the Kazansky house was quiet, although during the day it had been bustling, with Maverick, Bradley, and Sarah all making calls or talking about arrangements, organizing who was picking up whom from the airport, and so on.
Ice came home and stood in the front entryway, where he could see Maverick perched on a stool at the kitchen island, a forgotten and cold cup of coffee in front of him as he stared out the kitchen window, deep in thoughts and memories. He turned his head to the living room where Sarah sat on the couch with a red-eyed Bradley once again laying in her lap, the TV on but the volume turned very low, and neither of them seemed to be watching it anyway.
Ice sighed and set his briefcase down and went to his wife first, leaning down to give her a kiss and a smile, which she returned gratefully, even though her smile had an edge of sadness to it. She looked her husband in the eyes and then flicked her eyes down to Bradley, then up again.
Ice got the message, and crouched down in front of the young man, who was staring off into space as Sarah stroked his hair. The Admiral placed a comforting hand on Bradley's arm as the teen's eyes finally focused on the other man's face.
"Hi, kiddo."
"Hello, sir," Bradley replied softly.
Ice gave the boy a small smile.
"Again, you can still call me Tom, Bradley. Or Ice. Uncle Ice. Iceman…any of that." He squeezed Bradley's arm.
"Seems stupid to ask, but how are you doing?"
Bradley blinked at that question, giving it some thought before answering.
"Honestly, Ice, I have no idea."
Me neither, kid, Ice thought as he nodded reassuringly, squeezing Bradley's arm again before getting up and heading into the kitchen to check on Maverick.
Upon closer inspection Ice noticed right away the tension in Mav's back, shoulders, and jaw, the short quick breaths; he was leaning forward on folded arms but his hands were clenched. He almost looked like a coiled spring ready waiting to explode.
Ice knew better than to sneak up behind Maverick when he was like this, full of frantic energy but unable to hop in a plane and burn it out with supersonic speed and crazy maneuvers, and instead walked around so he was directly in Mav's line of sight, then leaning back against the sink with his arms folded, standing between the island and the window.
Maverick blinked, almost owlishly, at the realization that his friend was there. Ice's heart broke for the tenth time in the last few days at the despondency he saw in his friend's eyes, his own eyes reflecting worry back at his friend, blue eyes meeting green.
Maverick did relax after a second though, once he recognized his wingman standing in front of him. He looked very much how he'd looked when Ice had left that morning, and Ice mentally berated himself for not thinking to go by Maverick's temporary quarters and grab some things for him.
"How long have you been sitting there?" Ice asked casually.
Maverick shrugged, breaking eye contact. "Dunno."
Ice continued staring at his friend for a minute, then stepped forward and patted his friend on the back.
"Let's go outside, Maverick, come on."
Mav's eyebrows raised at that but he hopped down off the stool, stiffly following Iceman out to the back deck, his leg and hip muscles protesting. Maybe he had been sitting on that stool for too long, but he'd be damned if he knew how Ice knew that.
They went out to the back deck, instantly feeling the soft, warm breeze, seeing the lavenders and deep oranges of the sunset. Maverick could smell the gardenias Sarah had planted next to the deck, and the pleasant scent somehow enhanced his sadness. Ice sat down in one of the Adirondack chairs but Maverick, having sat for a long time, opted to lean back against the railing, facing his friend but closing his eyes and dropping his head back, then slowly rolling his head in a circle to stretch his neck.
Ice folded one leg over the other, his interlaced fingers in his lap as he stared levelly at his wingman.
Maverick rolled his head to its regular position and stared back at Ice, clearing his throat before he said:
"I, ah, I called Hollywood and Wolf. And then Slider. I knew they'd want to know…"
Ice nodded. "I know."
Maverick squinted at his friend. "You know?"
Iceman shrugged. "They all called me after they talked to you. Well, Hollywood called me and had me on speaker so I talked to him and Wolf. And then Slider called me about a half hour later."
Maverick squinted even more, then barked out a half-laugh.
"Of course they did."
"Slider called Viper, too."
Maverick nodded. "Good. I'm grateful for that…" he ran a hand over his face.
"You know what's funny, Tom?"
Ice shook his head no as Mav continued.
"The person I feel like I should be calling is Carole. I don't know why, and it doesn't even make sense…"
Ice shrugged again. "It does makes sense. You're used to calling her every time anything happened in your life, good or bad."
Maverick nodded his head slowly at that, his eyes unfocused, sighing heavily. The lump that had now taken up permanent residence in his throat, the knots in his stomach and the ache in his chest…none of them would relax or give him any slack.
He turned, putting his back to Ice for a moment as he took in the greenery around him, the clear blue sky, the white flowers, wondering how the earth could act as though everything was "business as usual" when such a vibrant, caring, and compassionate woman was no longer alive.
How was he supposed to enjoy anything without her here? Carole had added so much to his life…
He rubbed his forehead with tense fingers, taking a breath to ground himself. He turned back around and resumed his prior stance, looking back at his friend, who was still sitting in the chair with his legs crossed, just being present, a neutral expression on his face.
Yup, Maverick thought. That's Ice for ya.
Ice patted the armrest of the chair next to him. He wanted to ask how the planning was going, if a day and time had been set for the funeral, but decided he would ask his wife about that later. Right now, Maverick needed his supporter fully present.
Maverick paused and then acquiesced, settling himself in the big, high-backed chair.
Something about sitting on the peaceful deck, watching the colorful sky, made the lump rise up in his throat and bring tears to his eyes. He put his chin in his hand, closed his eyes…
The back door swung open and the ball of thirteen year-old energy and long brown curls known as Felicity bounded out onto the deck, at first oblivious of Maverick's darkening mood and hopped in front of her father, leaning down to give him a kiss, her hands bracing herself on the wide armrests of the chair.
"Hi, Dad! I didn't hear you come home, and then Mom said you were home, and I saw your car, and…"
Ice grinned up at his daughter, trying to be present for her while also still being aware and cognizant of Maverick.
"And you found us out here? You smart girl."
At her father's word "us" Felicity suddenly turned wide eyes to her Uncle Mav, who was roughly wiping tears away with the heel of his hand. Her face softened, chagrined: she'd only wanted to come out and see her dad and hadn't meant to interrupt their talk.
Ice noticed - the hyper-vigilance of being a pilot hadn't gone away when he became an Admiral - and so did Maverick, who smiled up at her, although the smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Oh, Uncle Mav, I'm really sorry about Carole, for you and Bradley too. I'm going to miss her a lot, she was always really fun and so nice."
Now the smile reached his eyes just a touch, even though those same eyes were filling with tears again.
"Thank you, Felicity. She was very fun and nice, and I am missing her too. Very much."
She tentatively leaned down to hug him and he gladly reciprocated, giving her a kiss on the cheek as he did so. She stood and turned back to her father.
"Papa?" She asked, using the pet name that surely meant she wanted something. Ice gave her an amused raised eyebrow.
"Yes, Happiness?"
"Um, Mom wants to know if pizza is okay for dinner or if you 'had something else in mind'," she said, using her pointer and middle fingers as "air quotes."
Ice shook his head, unable to keep from smiling at his daughter.
"Tell Mom I didn't have anything in mind, so pizza sounds great."
"Okay, yay, great! I'll go tell her…and um, I will…let you guys…get back to talking," she said, bounding back into the house to talk to her mother.
Ice turned back to Maverick as the back door clattered shut. Once Felicity had left Maverick had slid down in the chair, his face in his hands. Now the sun was nearly fully set, the sky full of purples and grays instead of orange, and the air still and calm, and it once again beckoned Maverick's grief.
He started to cry, loud, hiccuping sobs working their way up from his belly. He changed position, sliding back up and leaning forward, his forehead resting on the heels of his hands as he cried tears into his lap and onto his shirt. Ice pulled his chair as close as he could get to his friend, laying a hand on Maverick's back and another hand on his shoulder, soothingly rubbing and patting Mav as he wept.
Ice had had a suspicion that Maverick had again clenched down his emotions during the day while making calls and being a support for Bradley, and knew that getting him alone, out of Bradley's earshot, would get Mav to open up. But it was a cycle he wanted to end: the boy and the pilot needed grieve together, at least a little.
Maverick's cries turned to wails. Mourning Carole also meant mourning Goose all over again, and mourning Goose meant reliving the trauma, meant he would also relive his guilt all over again…Ice got into a crouch in front of the chair and pulled his friend to his shoulder. Maverick offered little resistance and cried piteously into Ice's shoulder, clutching at the other man's shirt, as Ice clutched him back.
Sarah had gotten up from the couch, leaving Bradley still lying there on his side, his brown eyes round and red. He had insisted on calling family members himself, which gave him something to do, which was good. But it also meant he had to say, "yeah, hi, I'm calling to let you know Mom passed away last night," and then giving details over and over again, which was…not great.
He had still refused to eat anything all day besides half a turkey sandwich, and even that had taken some coaxing.
She had called and ordered a few pizzas, and paced around the kitchen, catching the sight of Tom and Pete sitting on the back deck, Tom situated right next to his friend, then Tom moved in front of Pete and she could see Pete sink into her husband's shoulder…
She sighed. Pete hadn't been any better than Bradley, in fact she was sure he had barely eaten or drank anything since…maybe yesterday morning? She couldn't be sure. He had roamed the house all day while making calls to some of their fellow aviators… She'd talked to Ron for a moment before handing the phone back to Pete, then heard him on the phone with Rick and Wolfe. He'd called the funeral home, the insurance company, running his finger along Carole's neat handwriting on the documents she'd entrusted to them.
But once there were no other tasks to complete, he had sat with Bradley on the couch for a while, his arm around the younger man's shoulder, Bradley slumped down with his head tilted and resting against his uncle's shoulder while they "watched" the news, or the weather channel, she wasn't sure. She would hear the occasional murmured, "it's going to be okay, Bradley," from Pete, but not much else from the pair.
Bradley had cried a little here and there, but she knew that just like Maverick, Bradley had been suppressing his roiling emotions all day, and they were bound to explode out eventually…
Felicity had perched herself at the end of the couch near Bradley's feet, staring at him while thinking of what to say. Bradley was pointedly ignoring her. They got along all right, but Bradley at eighteen didn't have much in common with an eighth grade girl, and Felicity resented the idea of being treated like 'the kid sister.' In other words, a perfectly normal "sibling" relationship.
She poked his foot.
"What are you doing, Brad?"
"Nothing."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to do anything, Liss. I just want my mom back."
Felicity considered that. She was a child who did not mince words and was…well, blunt.
"But she's not coming back, Brad."
She didn't mean this unkindly, it was simply a fact.
Bradley sat up suddenly, his eyes burning with sudden anger.
"You think I don't know that, Felicity?! I know she's not! But…that's all I want right now, okay? I just want her BACK!"
He was yelling, and Sarah came rushing in from the kitchen, not surprised by the outburst but still needing to mitigate it.
Felicity's eyes were big and round. Bradley sometimes got annoyed with her but he'd never yelled at her like that.
"Just mind your own BUSINESS, Felicity! Leave me ALONE!"
Ice and Maverick had come in the house when Bradley started yelling, having heard him from outside. Ice was about to step forward and smooth things over, but Maverick stepped forward instead, planting himself between his adopted nephew and niece, not saying anything at first, mainly because he didn't trust himself not to also start yelling.
"Bradley…" Maverick said his voice shaking. "I know you're angry but you do not get to take it out on others like that, especially not a child!"
Normally Felicity would have argued that she was definitely not a child, but she wisely kept her mouth shut, fleeing the couch to go hug her father.
Ice hugged her back but he was also poised to step in if Mav's confrontation of Bradley went south.
It did.
Sometimes when humans are grieving, the people closest to them are the ones who bear the brunt of their grief, their denial, their anger. That was the case here.
Bradley's eyes still burned with anger and helplessness.
"Don't you get it?! I am alone, Mav! I'm alone and it's YOUR FAULT. If it wasn't for YOU, my dad would still be here, and then maybe Mom would be too!"
Maverick stood up like a spring was under him, and his mouth dropped and then snapped shut, his lips set in a thin line. He thought his own anger would rise up, but instead it was shame and guilt. Bradley had known exactly how to hurt him. Tears of hot shame and hurt worked their way into his eyes, unsure of how to respond or even react to the teen…
Ice handed his daughter off to Sarah, quickly stepping in between the pair. He grabbed Bradley by the arm, not in anger, but in urgency.
"Come on, Brad. Come with me."
The boy stood and Ice steered him out to the back deck where he had just been with Maverick a minute ago, his face set in his best Iceman expression.
Bradley folded his arms as though readying to protect himself from the Admiral. He knew he'd crossed a line, and he hadn't meant to hurt Mav like that, but he was hurting and needed someone else to hurt too…needed to project his turmoil onto someone else…
Ice stared at him, still with the iron expression on his face. He sighed deeply before speaking.
"Bradley…you know you have my deepest sympathies. I know how much you love your mom. You also know that I, and Maverick, understand what you're going through."
Bradley snorted. "With all due respect, sir, your mother didn't die when you were only eighteen…"
"But Maverick lost his mother when he was much younger than you. You know that."
Bradley looked at his feet, chagrined.
"In any case," Ice continued, "that doesn't minimize YOUR loss. I understand how hard this must be for you, and you're allowed to be angry. Hell, you can feel whatever feelings you want to. However…you CANNOT project your anger onto others like that, especially people who love you and are only trying to help."
Bradley sucked in his lower lip, still with his arms folded, still looking at his sock-covered feet. He was swirling through every emotion at once. He was sad, angry, regretful, hurt, lonely, lost, bitter…
Ice sighed. He hadn't meant to be hard on the young man but he was a protective father and a protective friend. He knew that the reason for the lashing out was that Bradley was in a place where he felt safe enough to have an outburst like that in the first place.
Bradley didn't move and instead squeezed his eyes shut. Ice sighed, stepped forward, and pulled Bradley to him, and as he did so made a mental note to himself that both Bradley and Mav needed him and needed each other.
It took a minute or so for Bradley to hug Ice back, although he was weeping into the older man's shoulder. Ice spared a glance into the house through the window, hoping Maverick was okay. He was torn, and not for the first time wished there was two of him: one to deal with life, and the other to deal with Maverick.
Sarah had pressed some cash into her daughter's hand and told her to go outside and wait for the delivery driver. Felicity complied quickly, still shaken up but understanding the adults' need for privacy.
Maverick was still standing in the same spot where he'd been when Bradley had lashed out at him, arms folded, staring at his feet, frozen in place, locked in pain, in hurt. Sarah glanced in the direction of the back deck to see if Tom and Bradley were coming in but they were still out there, and Bradley needed his own comfort from Tom…
Sarah sighed quietly. She and Maverick were quite close of course, and they had over a decade of friendship behind them, but normally she would let Tom (or Carole) take charge when he got this way. But since neither of them were available….
She touched him softly on the shoulder.
"Pete?" She said gently, lightly putting her hand on his arm.
He remained tense but blinked rapidly a few times, slowly raising his head to look her in the eyes.
He had already been sobbing with Ice right before they had rushed inside, and then the biting comments from Bradley…there had been no time to recover from the pain, from the wave of grief that had hit Maverick like a tsunami as he watched the sunset.
"Oh, Pete…it's okay. He didn't mean it."
Maverick wasn't so sure. It didn't help that he still blamed himself for Goose's death, even after Carole telling him she never blamed him for it, even after she told him to forgive himself…maybe Bradley didn't share her feelings…
He almost seemed to sink into himself more, tucking his shoulders down, squeezing his arms tighter, breaking eye contact with Sarah, his mouth and jaw set tightly.
Tom had taught her the signs, and she gently placed her hands on his upper arms, angling herself into his line of sight, albeit silently, peering at him with gentle, pleading eyes.
It took a minute but his eyes focused on hers slowly as recognition returned to his face, and like he had done with Ice earlier in the kitchen, relaxed his posture and stood up straight. After another moment he unfolded his arms, and Sarah took that as a sign, pulling him into a tight embrace which he gladly returned.
She rubbed his back and shoulders.
"He's just angry and grieving, Maverick. Bradley loves you," she said, trying to soothe him.
Maverick for his part was trying to make sense of the emotions, thoughts, and memories swirling in his mind like a maelstrom, and it was hard to head or tails of it all, hard to tell which items needed priority in that moment…had Sarah been able to see his eyes she would have seen how wide and almost frightened they were as he tried to settle his mind.
They heard the heavy front door open (with a grunt from the opener) and then slam shut as Felicity came back in the house carrying two pizzas in her arms. When Sarah released her embrace she saw the haunted look in Maverick's eyes made a tch sound, and hugged him again. She heard Tom and Bradley come inside; she figured Felicity had probably gone out to fetch them. She was about to call for Tom to come take over on Maverick-duty when Bradley came into the living room, looking apologetic and unsure.
Sarah looked up at him with wide eyes at first, then noticed the contrition in his face. She nodded slightly and pulled back from Maverick again, gently turning the pilot so he was facing his "nephew", then headed into the kitchen to find her husband and daughter.
Mav and Bradley stared at each other for a minute, neither really knowing what to say; Maverick not trusting his voice yet, having not spoken since he had come between Bradley and Felicity, and Bradley not knowing how to start.
"Mav…I…I'm sorry."
Maverick glanced up, finally looking Bradley in the eyes.
"I just….I'm so angry…and I don't even know who I'm angry with, and all my feelings are just…attacking me, and I got mad at you, because… I need to BLAME someone, because if I can't blame anyone then this was all random and…"
Wordlessly Mav grabbed Bradley and hugged him. He was still hurt, but this young man was hurting too, and missing his mother terribly, and of course he was angry. Maverick was angry too.
Maverick released him, and saw that Bradley's eyes were wet with unshed tears. Mav sighed heavily, then put his hand on Bradley's arm, guiding him into the kitchen so he could maybe coax the boy to eat.
Turns out Maverick was the one who needed coaxing, as Sarah muttered to her husband that she hadn't seen Mav eat at all and had only had coffee today and the day before. Tom snorted, putting two slices of pepperoni pizza on a plate and shoving it at Mav, who only picked at it until Tom literally ordered Maverick to "take five bites," (much to Bradley's amusement) as though Mav were a picky toddler and Ice the frustrated parent.
Actually, Bradley thought. That's not a bad comparison. Would make the whole "here's the airplane, open wide" thing actually be applicable to these two.
The funeral was to be a simple affair, how Carole wanted it, although Bradley did go more overboard on ordering flowers than what had originally been planned.
The morning of, Maverick asked Ice if he could go with him to base so he could get fresh clothes and his dress uniform from his temporary quarters and a few other things he needed.
Ice obliged of course, then went to his office, needing to do work all morning before taking the afternoon off for the service and burial.
Maverick came back to Ice's office with a duffel bag in hand, then wandered around the Admiral's office. Maverick had so rarely been in an Admiral's office when he wasn't in trouble, and so liked to wander around Ice's office and fiddle with things on the shelves, look at books, etc.
Without looking up from his work, Ice asked,
"What are you doing, Mitchell?"
Maverick huffed lightly.
"Nothing."
"Don't give me that look, Mav."
Maverick huffed again, well a sort of half huff-half laugh, and said,
"This is the only look I've got, Ice."
Ice chuckled back and finally looked up at his friend, who was now grinning at the sight of the mighty Iceman staring him down from behind a pair of reading glasses.
"What is it, Maverick?"
Maverick sighed.
"I know we're burying Carole next to Goose, but, um…I want to go…talk to him, before we bury her later…"
Ice nodded; it made perfect sense to him: Maverick almost always visited Goose's grave when he was in town. But Iceman couldn't leave the office just yet, so he tossed Maverick his car keys.
"Drive it the speed limit, or else."
Maverick smirked, flipping Ice's keys around his finger, until he noticed The Iceman Stare and nodded, trying to hide his smile, fleeing the Admiral's office before Ice could change his mind.
"Thank you, Ice," he called over his shoulder, as Iceman returned to his paperwork, also trying to hide the smile attempting to creep up his face.
Maverick stared down at the gravestone in front of him, reading over the engraved words as though he'd never seen them before.
LTJG NICHOLAS "GOOSE" BRADSHAW
BELOVED HUSBAND AND FATHER
And the dates of his birth and his death, far too close together.
Maverick sighed and crouched down in front of the stone, placing his hand on its warm, hard surface for a minute, closing his eyes. He always felt a strong breeze in his hair when he did that, and whether it was his imagination or not, he didn't care.
Finally he sat down in the grass, his eyes taking in the lush greenery around him, trying his best to ignore the freshly dug grave beside him, the apparatus for lowering the casket in place, waiting for its recipient.
"Hey, Goose," he began softly, before sighing deeply.
"I'm sure you are well aware by now, but Carole's come to join you. She's never stopped loving you, or missing you, all of these years. And I tried…oh Goose, I tried to step in, be the father Bradley lost…but I'm not you. You were such a great dad, Goose."
He plucked at blades of grass as tears sprung to his eyes.
"You would have been so much more understanding than I was…Carole always said I was doing fine but…I'm not so sure sometimes. Anyway, you probably already know this, but she made me promise to keep him out of the air…and I…Goose…I can't break my promise to her, but I don't want to break Bradley's heart…"
He let a tear fall down his face, taking deep breaths against the weight in his chest. Goose's death still hurt, was still a raw place in his mind and heart.
"Oh, Goose…talk to me, buddy…"
He closed his eyes as a second tear fell, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face.
Forgive yourself, Mav.
The voice was loud and clear in his mind, and something in him broke. Whether the thought was a source of his own grieving, exhausted brain, or something else, it didn't matter. The knot in him broke all the same. He put his face in his hands and cried, covered in sun-dappled shadows, sitting in the grass of that peaceful cemetery.
"Oh, Goose," he said, wiping his tears with the backs of his hands. "I don't know how. I just don't know how."
He sat in front of the his best friend's grave for another thirty minutes or so, just chatting and updating Goose on things, when a pair of legs in khaki-colored pants appeared beside him, and a familiar shape sat down beside him with a grunt and a sigh.
"Hi, Ice."
"Hi, Mav."
Maverick raised an eyebrow at his friend.
"How did you get here?"
Ice shrugged. "I called you several times but you didn't answer. Ended up taking a cab."
Maverick winced. He'd left his cell phone in the car and hadn't thought to bring it out here with him.
"Sorry, I-"
Ice waved off his apology. "Don't worry about it, Maverick." He nodded towards Goose's headstone.
"Did Goose have anything to say today?" Ice asked casually.
Maverick shrugged, picking at blades of grass again.
"Told me I need to forgive myself."
Ice nodded sagely.
"Sounds like good advice to me, Mav."
He glanced over at his friend.
"You set to go home and get ready?"
Maverick sighed. Home. Ice and Sarah's was the closest thing he'd had to "home" in a long time. He got back into a crouch and briefly placed his hand on the top of the gravestone again, then stood up, brushing grass and dirt off his pants.
He reached down for Ice's hand, who gripped his wingman's hand and allowed Mav to help him up, even if he didn't need the help. With one last lingering glance at the headstone and the open grave, Mav and Ice each slung and arm around the other's shoulders as they walked back to the car.