Author's Note: This chapter starts immediately after the first part of Chapter 1 where Ice and Sarah are talking in bed. Please remember that I am not in the military or in the medical field so I've taken some creative liberties on some things.

The ice pack trick is a real thing though

"That's when you need someone
Someone that you can call

When all your faith is gone
And it feels like you can't go on
Let it be me
Let it be me

If it's a friend you need,
Let it me be"
- "Let It Be Me" - Ray LaMontagne

Sarah stared at her husband in the now dimming light of their bedroom.

"So…that's why Maverick pulled Bradley's papers?" She said, eyebrows raised, feeling a little gobsmacked.

Ice nodded wearily.

"He made me promise, to swear, never to tell anyone, especially not Bradley, that it was Carole's dying request to him. He didn't want anyone to judge her, didn't want Bradley to hate and resent her. He's directed his anger at Mav, and Mav doesn't want Bradley to direct anger at Carole as well."

He had to clear his throat a few times before continuing.

"I should have told you, Sarah. You're my wife, after all…but I think Maverick and I both thought that Bradley's anger wouldn't last this long."

Sarah had a thoughtful look on her face. "But you're telling me now, Tom. And I'm so glad you did…I miss him. He emails me sometimes but just that he's okay, he won't answer any questions about where he is, or…"

She sighed heavily. "Poor Maverick. Poor Bradley. And poor Carole. I can understand her fears, certainly," Sarah said quietly.

She understood all too well, as the mother to a teen who would be off to Annapolis in a few years and as the wife of one of the best fighter pilots in the Navy.

How funny,she thought. I always worried about him so much when he was on assignment, convinced it would be an enemy missile that took him from me, not a clump of abnormal cells in his throat…

She steadied herself then.

Ridiculous to have that line of thinking when the biopsy hadn't even been done yet, come on, Kazansky….

Her husband cleared his throat again, more forcefully, and that brought her full attention back to him.

He shrugged a little. "But that's partially what their talk was that last afternoon she was with us…and he was so tortured when he finally realized that he had to pull Bradley's papers, because the war was starting…he couldn't break his promise to Carole, but didn't want to break Bradley's heart…"

He was staring out the window over his wife's shoulder again, having to now take several long deep breaths, both at the memory of Maverick falling apart in his office, and at the pain rising in his throat.

Sarah leaned over and kissed him, long and sweet, and then nestled closer to him, resting her cheek on his chest, her ear over his heart, its constant thumping reassuring her. She squeezed him with all of her strength and he reciprocated, neither of them discussing what consequence the next day's procedure would have on their future together.

Two weeks later, Ice and Sarah were again called to Dr. Cotton's office together, Ice again calmly holding his wife's hand. Being that it was now November, Ice and Sarah had talked and decided that regardless of the news they would not tell anyone, save Ice's aide, Shorty, until after the holidays unless it was absolutely necessary to do so. Not even Maverick.

"Tom…I won't mince words, I know you hate that."

Tom nodded, smiling slightly.

"The report from pathology, combined with the ultrasound results, and your symptoms, points to Stage 2 Laryngeal cancer. So what this means is that the cancer has spread to part of the larynx and vocal cords but not into the surrounding tissue."

Sarah's shoulders relaxed a little, and she noticed her husband's had as well, however imperceptibly.

"Prognosis?" Ice asked.

"70% of adults survive 5 years or more," Dr. Cotton said with a small smile as the couple's shoulders relaxed even more.

"Now, I'm still sending you to the oncologist, you'll still need treatment, but what kind and for how long is his department. My admin actually already made an appointment for you over there for tomorrow, is that alright?"

Ice nodded and closed his eyes, squeezing Sarah's hand tightly in relief. He hadn't realized how scared he'd been until that very moment.

70 percent survival rate over five years,he thought.

He'd beaten far, far worse odds than that.

Maverick was overseas for Thanksgiving but made it back to San Diego a few days before Christmas, and was surprised to see Ice standing there to pick him up. He'd assumed he would just take a cab back to the apartment…the apartment that had been so barren and joyless since May…the apartment that was really just a holding point for all of his belongings and a place to sleep and take a shower. It wasn't home. Not anymore.

All his days blended together, whether here in San Diego or on the carrier or in the air: Maverick had been going through the motions for months. He actually hadn't gotten in much trouble since being deployed again, but frankly he didn't even have the spirit to be rebellious. He was just a shell, a man whose chest had been violently ripped apart by pain, by grief, by loss, by guilt, by regret. He couldn't even blame Bradley for it…

It's my fault. If I'd been a better parent… not such a coward… if Goose were still alive this never would have happened…

But seeing Ice standing there in his sunglasses with an unflappable look on his face brought a tiny beam of sunshine into Maverick's broken heart and he flashed a real smile for the first time in weeks, maybe even months.

"There's my wingman!" Mav said with that smiled plastered on his face.

"Hiya, Pete," Ice replied, his voice more gravelly than Pete remembered it to be.

Now that he was closer, Maverick could see that Ice had lost some weight and his face looked more gaunt than he'd ever seen it. He looked…not just tired…. Weary. That was the word. Weary.

But Ice felt solid enough when Maverick yanked him into a bear hug, relishing the familiar feel of his friend. God he'd missedhim, hated being in the air without his wingman, without their banter, knowing Ice was there and had his back, or was at least on the carrier, talking in his ear.

Ice returned the hug and the smile warmly; it was good to see Pete smile, good to see him alive, and see him vibrant, if only for a moment.

Maverick didn't say much in the car except to ask Ice if they were going to his apartment or to the Kazansky house, and Ice had snorted and said Sarah would string him up by his thumbs if he didn't immediately bring Maverick over, which made Maverick cackle a little at the visual.

"You're welcome to stay with us, as always, Mav," Ice added.

Maverick nodded slowly. "I…may take you up on that, Ice," Maverick replied. "Being in that apartment is not…well…I don't want to spend any more time there than I have to."

"I know, Mav."

Maverick settled back in the seat as Ice drove, his thoughts wandering - as always - to Bradley.

"Have you heard from him, Tom?" Maverick asked quietly, staring at his hands in his lap.

Tom sighed deeply, but coughed quite a bit on the exhale, making Maverick look over at his wingman in concern.

But finally Ice was able to get his voice back, although he was still hoarse. "He emails Sarah back and forth a little, mainly just to say that he misses her and that he's okay, but he won't answer her when she asks where he is or what he's doing."

Ice noticed the droop in Maverick's shoulders at that, and refrained from saying something along the lines of at least he's alive, Mav.

But that's what made it worse - not that Mav was likely to survive it if something didhappen to Bradley - the knowledge that he was out there somewhere and Maverick had no way of knowing where exactly. Not without tracking his phone, and then what? He'd track down an angry nineteen year old who still wouldn't talk to him…

Maverick had become so lost in thought that he hadn't realized that they'd not only arrived at Ice's home but that Ice had killed the engine and was staring at his wingman.

Maverick blinked and stared back, then his eyes narrowed. There was definitely something going on with Ice now that he was looking at him again.

"Tom…are you okay?" Maverick realized with a heavy twinge of guilt that he hadn't asked about Ice or his family since he'd gotten in the car, he'd been so focused on Bradley…

"Kids are okay? Sarah?"

Ice gave him a warm smile and ruffled his hair affectionately. "They're good, Pete. Daniel will be here tomorrow for Christmas break and Felicity is doing wonderfully at school and in soccer. And she can't waitto see her Uncle Mav, so we'd better hurry up and get out before she realizes we're back and tackles you in the yard."

Maverick shrugged with a grin. "I can't wait to see her either, so I wouldn't mind."

Felicity didtackle Uncle Mav in the foyer as they walked in, and at fifteen was nearly as tall as he was. One minute he was about to go hug Sarah, and the next he was almost head-butted by a noggin of brown curls as he felt himself be nearly knocked off his feet by a body paired with the gangly arms and legs of a teenager.

"Uncle Mav!"She shrieked as she hugged him, and he grinned even as the wind was knocked out of him and he dropped his bags, stumbling to keep them both upright.

He grinned and rubbed her back a little as she hugged him. "Hey, there, Happiness! How's my favorite niece?"

She pulled back from him, matching his grin. "My team made the finals! We didn't win, but that's the first time we've gotten past the tournament, and…"

"Hey, quit hogging Maverick, give someone else a turn," came Sarah's voice as she reached out and pulled Maverick into a hug of her own, this one not nearly knocking him over but still warm and welcomed.

"Hi, Sarah," he said softly into her hair.

She pulled back and kissed his cheek fondly. "It's good to see you, Mav."

She studied his face for a moment, holding it in her hands, and she noted the new lines around his eyes, the bags under those eyes that seemed deeper…but the man hadjust gotten back from another short deployment…

"Wanna go put your things in the guest room?"

He nodded gratefully. "Yes, please, and shower," he said gratefully with a wink, as he picked up his bags and headed upstairs.

Once he was out of earshot she looked over at her husband, who had been leaning against the entryway table watching it all.

"Well…how is he?" She asked Tom softly.

"He's a big faker trying to pretend he's okay…" Tom said, his voice also soft, shoulders sagging a little bit.

He missed the kid too, and had hoped the conversation he'd had with Bradley at the restaurant would have gotten through to the young man, but Bradley was as stubborn as…well, Maverick. But he was determined to make Maverick's leave full of love and warmth, and knew that Christmas with the Kazanskys was exactly what the pilot needed.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Turns out Ice was correct. Maverick deeply enjoyed Christmas Eve and morning with them, almost enough to wash away some of the sadness that had settled itself on his shoulders since the spring.

Almost.

Christmas was a holiday that brought up so many mixed emotions for Maverick. He only remembered bits and pieces of Christmases as a child, maybe one of opening presents with his mother, and the Christmases after she'd died had been very hit or miss…there were several years he didn't even have a Christmas, years where the holiday came and went like any other day.

Then he'd met Goose, who, upon finding out that Maverick didn't have any family, had immediately adopted him as an honorary Bradshaw and every year was invited to The Spectacular Bradshaw Family Christmas.

Then Goose was gone…but Mav, Carole, and Bradley had usually come over here to the Kazanskys' anyway, and the years when Carole and Bradley flew to see family, Maverick was…again, here.

Tom always made sure that Maverick had a Christmas. Last year, the first Christmas after Carole's passing, Maverick and Bradley had come over of course, and Ice and Sarah had made sure to buy them just as many gifts as they'd bought their kids, and surreptitiously helped Mav and Bradley buy gifts for each other.

Now, it was wonderful to be with Tom and his family, surrounded by the sights and smells of the holiday, but bittersweet. The holidays can have a way of making people even sadder than usual when they think of those they've lost. Bradley, and Carole and Goose, weren't far from Maverick's mind even as he watched Felicity and Daniel, sitting on the floor next to the lit Christmas tree, throw wads of wrapping paper at each other from the relative safety of the couch, a cup of coffee in his hands, and a borrowed pair of reindeer pajama pants on his legs, which were tucked up on the couch. Ice had thrust the pants, and a large t-shirt, at him the night before, saying:

"We wear Christmas pajamas on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, you know that."

Maverick didknow, but it's not like he'd packed Christmas pajamas with him on the carrier, and he still hadn't gone by the apartment.

Actually, he had to admit there was something comforting about borrowing Ice's pajamas even though they were too big. Ice and Sarah were presently in the kitchen, talking quietly and making breakfast, and Felicity and Daniel were now occupied with going through their piles of now-opened gifts. Maverick picked up his cell phone from the side table and stared at it, wondering…

It wasChristmas, after all.

With his heart fluttering and stomach in knots, he found Bradley's number and hit the call button before he lost his nerve. It rang six times, Maverick's heart sinking more and more with each unanswered ring.

Finally, devastatingly, the voicemail picked up.

Hi, you've reached Bradley, please leave a message!

"Bradley…it's Maverick…um…I just wanted to tell you Merry Christmas, and I miss you, and…" his breath caught on the lump in his throat, tears pricking his eyes. Bradley should be here…so where was he? Was he safe? Was he with people who cared about him?

"Um, I'm here at Tom and Sarah's…you know we love you…I love you…" and then he had to hang up, unable to say anything more as his heart broke all over again, tossing the phone next to him on the couch and burying his face in his hands.

Felicity and Daniel had overheard the phone call and Felicity had quietly gone to the kitchen to fetch her father.

Ice slowly approached the couch, observing the broken man leaning against the arm with his knees drawn up to his chest and his face covered with his hands. Ice sat down next to Maverick, his hand on one of Mav's knees. Felicity had already told him she'd heard Maverick leaving a message for Bradley.

"Pete…" Ice said softly, his heart twisting as he saw Maverick roughly shake his head, still covering his face with his hands.

"Come here," Ice said, getting as close as he could to his friend, who he feared was close to another fugue state, or another syncope episode, and Ice slid an arm around Maverick's tense, shaking shoulders and pulled him to his chest, holding him almost the same way he'd hold the kids when they were little and upset about something.

Maverick leaned into his wingman's chest and wept, trying to muffle the sounds in his hands, his body shaking and chest heaving. Ice simply wrapped strong arms around Maverick the way he had many times before, rocking him gently.

"Ice…I just miss him so much…I just want him back…I want him home…" Maverick sobbed.

Ice was familiar with these words, but he sadly remembered when Maverick would cry these words about Goose, and now he was crying them over his son.

"I know, Mav," Ice murmured in that low, raspy voice, gripping his friend as tightly as he could, rubbing his back, praying that would keep him grounded and conscious but still wanting Maverick to grievethe loss of Bradley in his life.

Sarah had wisely decided to set up breakfast on the outdoor table on the back deck - yes it was December but it was December in San Diego - and had the kids helping her get things set up. Ice was, not for the first, third, or hundredth time, incredibly grateful for his wife and her sixth sense and ability to anticipate what needed to be done in a situation usually before it needed to happen.

Ice continued to stroke Maverick's back as Maverick continued to cry loudly, sometimes wailing Bradleyand sometimes I'm sorryand sometimes it almost seemed like he had stopped but in fact just couldn't make any noise at all as his abdomen and chest shook with silent cries. It was the sound of his heart breaking all over again, and the months of pent up emotion and pain - it's not like he had anyone to cry like this with on the carrier, not really, and besides he had a squadron of little shits that didn't need to see their captain breaking down, helplessly sobbing, when they were going to fly into a war zone.

Ice wiped his own tears that had fallen: as always his heart broke whenever Maverick's did, and glanced around, looking for something. He only saw Mav's coffee cup, his pile of gifts from Ice and Sarah and the kids, and his cellphone, but not…

"Pete," he whispered. "Where are Goose's dog tags?"

It was a minute or so before Maverick could reply.

"Bedside table…" he whispered back, his voice sounding more raw than even Ice's.

Ice nodded. "I'll be right back. Stay put."

He quickly went upstairs and retrieved the tags, grabbed a box of tissues from the bathroom and came back down, finding Maverick still on the couch with his head thrown back on the cushions, his face still damp and red.

Ice took a tissue and gently dabbed Maverick's eyes and cheeks, which made Maverick suck in a deep breath because Carole had done the same thing to him when she was dying and they were crying together in her bed…

And so more tears dropped from Maverick's eyes, but at least the old tears had been dried by Ice's ministrations. He handed Maverick the dog tags reverently, and the captain took them and stared at them, wrapping the chain around his wrist and running his thumb over them over and over. He still missed Goose terribly, especially today, and wasn't convinced that Goose would be too happy with him right now, but the tags still brought him comfort.

Ice coughed and settled himself next to Maverick again on the couch and wrapped an arm around his still shaking shoulders. His eyes seemed faraway as he stared at the metal in his hands but at least he was lucid, the lights of the Christmas tree reflecting in the chain and in Maverick's wet, shining eyes.

Maverick tipped his head and laid it on Ice's shoulder, his breaths still shuddering and his hand still gripping the tags but his tears had stopped for now.

"I'm so sorry, Tom," Maverick muttered. "It's Christmas and here I am crying and ruining your holiday-"

Ice immediately huffed and silenced his friend.

"Maverick, you're our family.I know how hard today must be for you. Frankly I'm glad you had some release, I'm sure you've boxing in all that emotion since you left in June."

Maverick nodded slowly. Ice knew him so well it was scary sometimes. "Yeah…that's pretty accurate, Tom."

Ice snorted. "Yeah, I know. I knowyou, Mav," he said, poking Maverick in the arm with every word. Then he nudged Mav's shoulder with his own, a smile creeping up on his face.

"Come on, Pete, you ready for the annual world-famous Kazansky Christmas breakfast?"

Maverick flashed him a smile back. "You kidding? I dream about it all year long."

Ice nudged Mav's shoulder with his again, and Mav noticed his friend's face getting a little somber for a moment, and Maverick again noticed how his friend didn't quite look like himself…

"Merry Christmas, Pete."

"Merry Christmas, Tom."

Ice convinced Maverick to stay with them during his entire leave (not that Maverick needed any convincing), and went with him on the one day Mav needed to go to the apartment and get some things.

Stepping into the apartment had been bad enough, memories slamming into Maverick like a wrecking ball. Bradley hadn't lived here in just over six months but it still had some of his scent lingering. Maverick rushed past the open door of Bradley's empty bedroom as he stalked to his own room, determined to just get the stuff he needed and then get out.

Ice strolled around the rest of the apartment, checking the fridge to make sure it didn't smell (it didn't, Sarah had helped Maverick throw everything away and give the kitchen a deep clean before he left on the carrier in June), noting the layer of dust on the ceiling fan and on the tables. At some point Ice wanted to talk to Mav about moving some things to storage - there was no way Maverick would agree to sell any of the things that were Carole's, not for several years at least, if ever - but maybe he could be convinced to move them to the storage unit where the rest of Carole and Goose's things were, and then end the lease. It seemed crazy to keep paying rent on a place he had barely been in for more than a few hours since May.

He sighed as he heard Maverick hurriedly throwing things in his duffel bag and muttering to himself, and even though he was down the hall Ice could hear the anxiety coming off his friend. Hell, it was coming off of him in nearly tangible waves, even to where Ice stood in the living room.

Maverick came barreling out of his room, not wanting to see anything else of the apartment besides that hallway and the door that would lead him out of herebecause he had to get out of this place that reminded him of his failures - Bradley andGoose and all the mistakes he'd ever made. Then it reminded him of Carole, and the hole in his heart from the loss of the three Bradshaws.

He had to stop by the open door of Bradley's room because it was by the front door and he was fiddling around trying to get his keys out but his hands were shaking and his vision was starting to blur.

He heard Ice slowly walk down the hall to him and simply stand behind him.

The open door nagged at him, called to him, beckoned him. He didn't want to but he couldn't help himself as he dropped the bag and the keys and walked into that empty room, Ice following him silently.

Maverick was trembling as he took shaky steps into the room, his breaths rushing in and out much too fast as he looked at the stripped bed, the dust on the dresser…and sitting on the dresser…

A photo of him and Bradley from a few years ago, taken by Carole during their trip to San Francisco, a smiling Bradley and Pete with their arms around each other, the Golden Gate Bridge behind them. It was one of Maverick's favorite memories, and now it was staring him in the face, abandoned and covered in dust. He had to have left this here on purpose; it used to be stuck to the fridge with a magnet, and Maverick had taken those pictures down and packed them with him on the carrier. But he hadn't come in Bradley's room since he'd left, until now…

Bradley had left this one for Maverick to see; yet another reminder of his own failure, his own fears realized.

He'd been so afraid of losing Bradley…that he'd ended up losing him anyway.

It was the pattern, he realized. He kept fucking up, and kept losing those important to him, falling away like dominos…would Ice be next? Would he eventually push even his wingman away?

The empty room, the dust covered picture…these proved to be too much for the captain who stumbled backwards to the bare mattress and sat down heavily, tears falling from his eyes making his vision blur even more, he saw the darkness take over his periphery as the tunnel vision set in, felt his heart stop as his lungs refused to obey…

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ice had simply stood in the doorway and watched as Maverick took several agonizing steps into the empty room, found that photograph, and staggered backwards to the bed. Ice had begun to step forward the second he saw Maverick step back - the lastthing the pilot needed was a broken coccyx from falling - and had lightly grasped his elbow as Maverick sat down on the bed, hard, but Mav didn't seem to notice.

Ice's heart jumped into his throat as he watched Maverick start hyperventilating and his eyes roll back in his head, then he keeled over, thankfully backwards onto the bed and not forward onto the floor. He wasn't fully unconscious, however, he was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering, his hands trying to grab sheets that weren't there, and then Ice noticed Maverick's breathing become even more erratic.

Again, this was not Ice's first rodeo.

He quickly went to the fridge to see if there was any ice in the freezer, and thankfully the ice maker hadn't been turned off. He found a dishrag in a drawer and bundled some ice cubes in it then rushed back to the empty bedroom.

"Shhhh, Mav, Pete, it's okay, you're okay," Ice was saying as he sat on the bed next to Maverick, left hand opening the top of his jacket to expose the T-shirt beneath it, and the right hand pressing the makeshift ice pack to Maverick's sternum.

"Shhhh, Mav, come on, come back to me," he said, his already raspy voice now husky with emotion, trying to keep his voice even, left hand now firmly rubbing Maverick's arm and shoulder.

"Pete, Pete Mitchell, focus on my voice, come on, you're okay, you're not alone, I'm here with you, you're safe, you're not alone, come on Mav…"

The ice pack did its job, along with Ice's soothing voice, bringing a calming jolt to his nervous system, and slowly but surely Maverick's breathing evened out and his eyelashes fluttered open. His body relaxed and he blinked shining green eyes at his wingman, looking abashed and confused.

"Oh, Ice…what…"

"A panic attack, Mav. It's okay."

He held up the bundle of ice cubes, now beginning to melt.

"Ice saved the day," he said with a smile, trying to draw a smile out of Maverick. It took the pilot a moment to get the double meaning and Ice's corny joke didearn him a soft chuckle from Maverick, so…worth it.

"Where did you learn that trick?" Maverick asked weakly, rubbing the cold spot in the middle of his chest, still lying flat on the bed and looking at his wingman with tired eyes. His head still felt fuzzy, and he was hot all over except for his upper chest.

"You don't remember? Maverick, I'm insulted," Ice quipped, again, trying to keep things light until they could get out of this damn apartment.

Maverick simply raised his eyebrows at Ice, who chuckled lightly again.

"After the syncope episode you had in my office I decided to finally do some more specific research on how to help someone having a panic attack. I should have done it years ago, frankly. After the ceremony to honor the fallen last Memorial Day, between the fallout with Bradley and you going on deployment again…You…were having a hard time that day for many understandable reasons, and something about the slideshow they played especially set you off. You managed to get through it all but when we went to the luncheon afterwards you weren't able to focus, your breathing was erratic… I took you and a cup of ice to the men's room, wrapped some ice in a paper towel and stood in the handicapped stall with you for a few minutes with the ice shoved to your chest and it really helped you, you calmed down pretty quickly."

Ice shrugged a little.

"You really don't remember that?"

Maverick shook his head.

"Not really, I remember the ceremony, then sitting with you, and then my chest being cold, but it's all pretty fuzzy." He made a noise that sounded like a cross between a huff and a laugh.

"Would have been helpful to have known that trick when I was on the carrier."

Ice raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes narrowing.

"Mav…you've always had panic attacks since…well…but I thought they'd gotten better in the last few years?"

"They did. But…." And he left the rest unspoken, gazing up at Ice instead, and Ice easily read his meaning.

Ice then sighed heavily. He and Sarah were determined not to tell anyone about his cancer diagnosis until January - it was New Year's Eve tomorrow, and then Maverick's leave would soon be over…but the conversation couldn't happen today. Not after all of this. Not even with that lookMaverick was giving him, as if he were trying to bore a hole in his brain to read the thoughts within.

He went to take a deep breath but ended up having a coughing fit instead, causing Maverick to sit up suddenly in concern, his hand on Ice's shoulder.

"Are you okay? Do you need water?"

Ice shook his head but it was Maverick's turn to rush to the kitchen on wobbly legs, rinse out a dusty glass, fill it with water and come back to the room. Ice sipped it gratefully, looking at Maverick with a pained expression.

"Thank you," he said, his voice down to a whisper as he attempted to clear his throat several times. He then leaned back wearily against the footboard.

"You ready to go, Mav?" He asked weakly, and Maverick could only nod, worry and anxiety again emanating almost tangibly off of him as he offered Ice his hand and helped him to his feet.

The next evening they found themselves at home for a New Year's Eve celebration at the Kazanskys, with a mixture of Navy brass, friends of Felicity's and Daniel's with their families, and neighbors. Maverick milled about with his third beer in his hand, doing his best to mingle, but he found his thoughts kept straying to Bradley…and that coughing fit Ice had the day before…

He wanted to shove the pain away again. Wanted to drown it in alcohol but didn't want to be a drunk fool here at Ice and Sarah's party, so he was resolved to behave the best he could. But the urge was still there.

He couldn't even think of any old girlfriends to call who lived nearby, nor even any old boyfriends, come to think of it (although there had been far fewer of those).

But at the thought of "boyfriend" he realized who he couldcall, and who might still be sober enough for a conversation. Maverick was longing for familiarityand he couldn't very well drag Ice away for a maudlin conversation during his own party.

Maverick stepped out on the back deck and plopped himself into one of the big Adirondack chairs, smiling a little when he found the name he'd been searching for, down at the bottom of his contact list.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Wolf? It's Mav."

"Maverick! Hiya, buddy!" And then there was a muffled, but loud, "RICK! Mav's on the phone, get over here!"

"How are you guys?"

"Oh, you know us, Mav, partying it up on New Year's Eve…"

"So you're getting drunk at home in your pjs?" Maverick asked with a grin.

"You know it. How about you, Pete?"

Maverick shifted a little in the chair, listening to the muted sounds of the party in the house behind him.

"I'm here at Ice and Sarah's, they threw a big party again this year."

Now he heard Hollywood.

"Hey, Mav! Yeah we wanted to make it down but couldn't swing it."

Maverick snorted. Lemoore wasn't thatfar, but these two had really turned into domestic homebodies. Maverick couldn't blame them one bit though.

"Hey, Mav?" That was Wolfman again.

"Yeah, Wolf?"

"Has the Little Bird come back to the nest yet?"

Maverick squeezed his eyes shut and sighed deeply, taking another sip of his beer.

"Ah, I take your silence as an answer. I'm sorry, Pete, I know you miss him," came Wolf's voice, followed by Hollywood's:

"Mav…I'm so sorry. Maybe he just needs more time. I know this must be rough on you…"

"Yeah." Was all Maverick would say as he stared into the dark backyard. Bradley's absence was as raw of a wound as Goose's death, as Carole's passing.

"Hey we talked to Slider today, he's still in Michigan but sends his love."

That did make Maverick smile a little.

"Oh, thanks, Wood. I should call him too."

He heard the door open and then the screen door clack and stifled a smile, knowing who it was who had come searching for him without looking up.

"Here you are, Mitchell."

Maverick tapped the speaker button, still without looking up at the Admiral.

"Is that Ice?" Came Wood's voice.

Ice grinned. "Hi, fellas."

"Ice? You sound like shit, you okay?"

Now Maverick didlook up at Ice suspiciously, wondering what the answer would be.

Ice sat in the chair next to Maverick. "Just fighting a cold, Wood. How are you two lovebirds?"

"In love, almost drunk, and trying to stay awake long enough to kiss at midnight," Wolf said with a laugh.

Ice and Maverick laughed too.

"I can definitely understand that," Ice said. "I'll be lucky to get rid of all these people by 2am."

"Just get Mav to start singing. That'll clear them out," said Wolf.

"Hey!" Said Maverick, indignant. "I'm not thatbad…"

"We heard you in the bar, Mav…"

"That was sixteen years ago, Rick. I've improved since then."

He heard a snort and then, "Bull!"

"Okay, guys," that was Wolf again. "Casey Kasem is on and the countdown is starting soon. Happy New Year, you assholes."

Mav and Ice grinned again.

"Happy 2003, motherfuckers."

"Such language from an Admiral," Wood tutted.

"Love you guys," Maverick said, emotion suddenly in his voice. Wood's voice softened too.

"You too. Call any time, Mav. You too, Ice."

"Take care, Wood," Maverick said quietly and he hung up. He continued to stare into the blackness of the backyard as he finished off his beer, ignoring the raised eyebrow Ice was giving him.

"What is it, Tom?"

Ice snorted. "Couldn't find you and wondered where you'd gone off to." He reached out and patted Mav's arm.

"How's my wingman?"

Maverick shrugged noncommittally. "Hollow."

Ice sighed, stifling a cough and patting Maverick's arm again. "It's going to be okay, Mav. Give it time."

Maverick huffed a little. "That's what Wood said. But…oh, Ice. I miss him. I just want to talk to him…I want to know if he's alright…"

"I know, Pete. Me too."

The two sat in silence for a few more minutes before Ice checked his watch.

"Only a few minutes left of 2002. Are you going to come in and watch the countdown with us?"

Maverick shook his head.

"Want another beer?"

A nod.

"Okay, Mav."

Ice went back in the house and returned a moment later and handed Maverick another beer, standing half in the doorway as he looked down at his friend.

"I've gotta return to the party. Happy New Year, Pete."

"Happy New Year, Tom," Maverick said in a strained voice, as Ice gave him a soft smile and went back in the house.

He could hear the countdown from inside the house, his mood as dark as everyone else's was celebratory.

He missed Carole deeply, thinking about the 2000 New Year's Eve party here at the Kazanskys when she and Maverick had danced around the kitchen singing Prince's song "1999" at the top of their lungs with their ridiculous paper "2000" glasses and top hats. She had been sick then but still had enough energy to dance and be silly with him, the way Goose would have been with them if he'd been there…

He remembered 1994, when Bradley had insisted he could stay up past midnight with the grown-ups and they'd found him asleep in Daniel's tiny bed…with a tiny Daniel. Sarah had that picture tacked up on the fridge, in fact.

Five, four, three, two, one…Happy New Year!Came the collective shout from inside the house.

Happy 2003 to me,he thought, as he chugged the beer and tried to forget.

Maverick's leave was ending January fifth, and Ice was seriously debating on extending it. Partially because of what Maverick had said about the panic attacks on the carrier, and partially because today - January third, was the day he was going to be telling his wingman the truth.

Screw it, he thought, and tacked on an extra week in the computer. He didn't really have a concrete assignment until two weeks from now and the extra week wouldn't be affecting anything. He knew Maverick suspected something anyway.

They'd made plans to have lunch together, and Maverick met him at a favorite Café of theirs not far from base.

Maverick was still giving him that suspicious look across the table, picking at his food.

"Not hungry, Mav?"

Maverick sighed, tapping his fork on the table, staring at his friend levelly. "What's going on, Ice?"

Ice sighed and sipped his water.

"Okay, Pete," he said as he leaned forward on the table, pushing his plate aside. He wasn't sure how to proceed and decided on a direct approach.

"Sometime in October, Sarah convinced me to go see my doctor. I'd been having issues with my throat and my voice for months before that, and just thought it was allergies, then a summer cold, then she begged me for weeks to go see Dr. Cotton. I figured it's age and because I have to talk a lot, all that time with oxygen while flying, you know."

Maverick nodded, his expression tight, his leg jumping under the table.

"Well…turns out they saw something on my ultrasound and I needed a biopsy of my throat."

Maverick's eyes were round, his face trying to mask his fear and failing. A biopsy? Ice…

"Now, the biopsy itself has already made my voice sound rougher than usual, but…" he sighed. Maverick felt like he was going to jump out of his skin.

"Um, Pete, it's stage 2 laryngeal cancer."

Maverick dropped his fork and it clattered against his plate, but he hardly noticed.

"What?" He whispered, his hands clenching and unclenching, tears instantly pricking his eyes. Ice leaned forward and put a hand on Maverick's forearm.

"Mav, listen, stage 2 means it hasn't spread, and the five year prognosis is pretty good. I've got really good doctors working on me, I'm going to be okay, okay?"

Maverick didn't think his heart could take anything more. The lump that rose up made his throat constrict, and pushed those all-too familiar tears out of his eyes, and brought the quick, desperate breaths to his chest.

"Mav," Ice said again, patting them arm he was still holding. "Seventy percent of people survive five or more years. Those are damn good odds."

Maverick nodded but didn't seem to believe him, or at least was battling the panicky thoughts threatening to take over in his mind.

"Pete…" Ice said, gently.

Maverick was not normally one to worry too much about the future, preferring to live in the moment. But right now his brain was five years ahead…what happens after five years? Does the survival rate drop? Would it come back?

After losing so many people: his parents, Goose, Carole, and now Bradley, not to mention comrades they'd lost to combat and accidents, all he had left was Ice. And now he might be taken away as well. It was all too much.

Everyone I love leaves me.

His appetite had been meager to start with but now he had no desire to eat at all, wasn't even sure if he couldeat because his stomach and chest were in knots.

He was gnawing on his lip now, and had removed his arm from under Ice's grasp to hurriedly wipe his still-falling tears and then fold his arms across his chest.

"Come on, Mav, talk to me."

Maverick took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm himself. He didn't want the focus to be on him; Ice had spent so much time taking care of him lately.

"Ice…how are you feeling?"

Ice gave him a half smile. "I'm sure you've noticed I've been more tired than usual. I've been undergoing radiation treatments, and chemotherapy will start once that's over. And then they'll determine if I need surgery, but hopefully that'll be it."

Maverick nodded slowly, hating that he would have to leave soon, hating that this was happening to his best friend, his wingman. His brother. He was surprised to feel a hot ball of anger rise up in his chest. Not anger at Ice, of course, but angry at…life. At God. Ice was the last person on Earth who deserved this…

It should be me. It should always be me, not him. Not Ice.

He relaxed his arms and again leaned forward on the table, and Ice put his hand back on Mav's forearm.

"Ice…why didn't you tell me sooner?" Maverick whispered, feeling a little hurt that Ice had hidden this from him for months…never mind that he hadn't exactly been easily reachable.

Ice shrugged again. "We wanted to wait until after the holidays, especially for the kids' sake. We're telling them tonight."

Oh God, the KIDS…and Sarah…oh, God… Maverick thought.

"How…um, how's Sarah taking this?"

"In stride," Ice said, a touch of pride in his voice. Sarah Kazansky was an Admiral's wife and had faced far scarier things than stage two cancer. "I know she's scared but she's been a real trooper, Mav. Been researching special diets and making sure we get thorough notes from every doctor's visit."

Maverick nodded, his shoulders slumped, his chest aching. He needed time to process, and told Ice as much.

"Don't run away, Maverick."

"I'm not running, I just need a few hours to think."

"Okay, we'll see you tonight?"

Maverick nodded, and then tried to pay for lunch while Ice swatted his hand and insisted on paying as Maverick protested.

Their usual game. Maverick didwin sometimes, though.

When Maverick and Ice went their separate ways after lunch and after a long, tight, comforting hug on the sidewalk, Maverick again promising to come back to the house in time for dinner that night, he sat on his motorcycle and thumbed his flip phone open.

He stared at Bradley's name and phone number for several long minutes, sighed, and hit the call button.

This time the call went straight to voicemail.

"Bradley…it's Mav. I hope…I hope you had a good New Years. Please call me, I need to talk to you…bye."

He didn't want to leave the news of Ice's cancer on the voicemail, and hoped his plea was enough to get his son to call him back.

Ice supposed that there were a large number of people, especially Admiral Benjamin, who were quite surprised when Maverick, who had recently reconnected with Penny Benjamin, took her up in an F/A-18 yet again, because you'd think being put in HACQ for it years ago the first time and being sent to Bosnia for the second time would have been enough of a consequence.

Ice, however, was notsurprised. Maverick had been more reckless than usual, ever since Ice had told Mav he had cancer, in fact. And Ice suspected that this incident was more related to Maverick burying his pain and using any escape he could find rather than direct insubordination.

Okay…maybe it was Maverick's reaction to all of the loss and pain and insubordination.

"I hope she was worth it," Ice said casually to the chagrined captain sitting on the other side of his desk as Ice shuffled through the report on his desk.

Maverick had his arms crossed and was looking at his shoes, but a slightly wicked smile appeared on his lips, thinking about what he'd been doing with Penny right before he agreed to sneak her onto the Hornet. At the time, Maverick would have agreed to anythingshe asked, thanks to him not exactly being in a clearheaded state during their…activity.

Ice raised an eyebrow at that look on his friend's face and rolled his eyes.

"Good for you for getting laid, I guess, Mav," Ice muttered as he signed something at the back of the report.

Maverick tried to hide a chuckle at that but Ice still heard it, and the Admiral shot him his classic Iceman stare and sat back in his chair.

"It's not funny, Maverick. Besides this being extremely dangerous, you're in deep shit. You've pissed off other Admirals besides Benjamin, you know."

"Oh…yeah? Who else?"

Ice slammed his hand down on his desk, making Maverick jump.

"ME, for one, plus Admiral Shaw, and a few very confused flight deck officers. What the hellwere you thinking? Penny Benjamin again?"

Maverick resumed staring at his shoes. He really didn't have a good answer, and was now feeling ashamed and stupid. At the time, there didn't seem to be any harm in it, but now that he was more clear-headed he was beginning to realize what could have happened, what could have gone wrong…

"What the hell's the matter with you, Mav?" Ice knew the answer to this question, but he wanted to see if Maverick was able to connect the pieces from his pain to this incident.

"I wish I knew, Ice. I really do," Maverick muttered, all traces of his cocky attitude gone. Sometimes he wished they'd just court-martial him and be done with him once and for all. He lovedto fly, but obviously he wasn't of much use to the Navy, he was a liability…every day he was amazed they hadn't taken his wings after Goose was killed, in spite of the report stating he was not at fault for that incident.

"Are you court-martialing me?" Maverick asked the Admiral quietly, as Ice snorted.

"No. Despite what everyone else thinks, including you, I'm pretty sure, the Navy needs you. It needs your courage and your instincts. And right now, your country needs you as well," he said, signing another page of the report.

"My country needs me?" Maverick repeated, confused. He had been half-convinced Ice had been selected as the person to yank his wings.

"We are heading into a second war in the Middle East, as you know. Operation Iraqi Freedom will be underway in a matter of weeks."

Ice sat back in the chair again and folded his arms, and surprised even Maverick by setting his feet up on his desk.

"Congrats, Pete. You're going back to Iraq."