Even On Cold Days, My Door’s Always Open
He planted his hands on either side of him as he woke, his exhales short and emphatic. The tips of Maverick’s fingers dug into the sheets tightly as he slowed his breathing to ground himself. His bedroom suddenly felt colder and emptier than it had in a long time. It’d been a while since someone occupied the other side of it, but tonight he felt lonelier than ever. Especially because the mental images of Ice’s blonde hair against his white sheets, his striking green eyes staring back at him, that smile, God, that smile were coming back to him in full swing. Maverick’s throat tightened now. The hum of the air-conditioning became incessantly annoying to his ears now, the air stale and dry.
Knowing he wasn’t going back to sleep tonight, he got out of bed, threw on jeans and a sweatshirt, and left. The crisp wind from the beach immediately made him feel better. He hadn’t checked the time but judging by the colour of the sky, it was well after midnight but not quite dawn yet. It had been two days since the funeral. Two days since they’d formally farewelled Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. Maverick knew part of him had been slowly preparing for this for a long time. Ever since he’d discovered that despite how strong he was, despite how tenacious, the battle with cancer was one Ice was unlikely to win, somewhere deep inside, Maverick had started fading too. Still, though, as he sat near the shore, not too far from the Hard Deck but far away enough that nobody could see him, Maverick let the tears start to fall.
But of course, accepting that Ice was gone wasn’t the only thing hitting him square in the chest right now.
No, it was because of the dream he’d had to force himself awake from.
It’d been a long time since nightmares about the day Goose had died had plagued his mind. Decades, even.
And yet, tonight, he’d dreamt about Goose.
Maybe it was the fact that Rooster had been in his face non-stop for the past few weeks, maybe it was the fact that if he ended up selecting him for the mission he could very well be in a situation that repeated the past, or maybe it was just the fact that all he wanted to do was hug the kid and tell him that his dad would be so, so proud of him, simply for being who he was, just the way he used to when he was younger, and he couldn’t. Because he’d respected Carole’s wishes and pulled his papers. In hindsight, he wasn’t quite sure what that had ended up achieving other than delaying the pain. He was always going to find a way around it. He was a Bradshaw, he didn’t take shit lying down.
“Mav?”
Turning his head, he found Goose standing over him, wearing one of his Hawaiian shirts, moustache neat, brow furrowed.
Maverick blinked a few times.
Rooster. It was Rooster.
It was funny, he’d been there the kid’s entire life, watched him grow up, but these past few weeks, he’d had to bite his tongue to stop himself from calling Bradley by his father’s name. Whether he was in uniform, or in what he knew without a doubt was one of Goose’s old shirts, combined with the sunglasses, the hair, and the mannerisms, he was a God-damned spitting image of him. And it hurt. God, it hurt, because neither Goose nor Carole was there to see it. He felt a pang of guilt when he realised just how long it had been since he’d visited their graves. He used to go religiously, often taking Rooster with him. But after he’d gone off to college, in particular, after he’d pulled his papers, Rooster hadn’t spoken to him. And Maverick simply hadn’t been able to bring himself to go, with Carole’s last words echoing in his mind.
“You make sure that even though he won’t have me or his daddy, he’ll always have his Uncle Mav, you hear?”
He realised he probably hadn’t spoken in several seconds as Rooster continued to look at him with some mix of confusion and concern.
“You alright?”
“Yeah…” Maverick said weakly but coughed to clear his throat. “Just couldn’t sleep.”
Judging by the way he simply sat down on the sand next to him, Maverick figured it was obvious that Rooster knew he’d been crying.
“I didn’t get the chance to say it at the funeral, but I’m sorry about Admiral Kazansky. I know you two were…close.”
The corners of his lips upturned slightly. “Thanks.”
He had to wonder how much he knew. Given how often Iceman and Maverick came up in conjunction, and that no matter what kind of shit he did, orders from the Admiral seemed to save his ass each and every time, he wasn’t going to be naive and think that people hadn’t gossiped, hadn’t wondered if there was more there than friendship. Nobody had dared ask him directly though. After all, they had to think about the fact that Ice was their superior and that making jokes or accusations certainly wasn’t going to fly well for their career. Now that Ice was gone though Maverick was at least a little relieved to know that anybody who would have been ballsy enough to ask probably wouldn’t dare.
“How come you’re out here at this hour? Should be in bed, mister.” He joked, voice flat.
“If your mother knew you were up this late, Bradley, she’d give me a beating.” He said, with a broad grin, too proud and amused to be mad at the fact that he’d successfully snuck past his room to watch television past his bedtime.
“But Uncle Maaaav.” Bradley whined. “You always let me stay up late when I sleep over.”
Maverick snickered, lifting him off the couch where he was watching cartoons. “You’ve got school tomorrow. Come on, let’s get to bed.”
Bradley protested some more as Maverick took him back to bed, tucking him in just as he had done a couple of hours ago. But eventually, he yawned, finding the bed just too comfortable to resist this time.
“Can you tell me a story about daddy? He asked tiredly.
“Of course, kiddo.” Maverick replied softly.
“Same reason as you, I guess.” He said, sighing. “That and Hangman snores like a train.”
Maverick laughed through his nose a little before becoming silent, the winds from the sea whistling through the palm trees.
“I’ve…I’ve been out of line the past couple of weeks. I’m sorry, Mav.” Rooster said genuinely after a beat. “I think because I forget that even though this is hard for me to see you, it’s probably a lot harder for you to see me.”
“You don’t have to apologise. You have every right to be mad.”
Rooster shook his head. “You were trying to protect me. I know…I know that’s all you’ve ever tried to do. And I appreciate that. I always have.”
“But you’re old enough to make your own choices now.” Maverick took in a breath. “I can’t stop you from doing what’s important to you.”
Looking over, Rooster could see Maverick’s eyes were still full of tears, could hear the solemnness in his voice. He might not have ever had a partner and children the way most people do but he realised that the Kazanskys and the Bradshaws had been the closest thing to family that Maverick had ever had. He had to wonder how he was still going, still flying, still finding it in himself to live his life, even though some of the people he’d loved the most weren’t going to be around to see it. Rooster realised now that he couldn’t blame him for doing what he could to keep him safe. Because if he didn’t make it on that mission, Maverick would have to bury another body, have another grave to visit and ask for forgiveness from.
“I-It just makes me feel closer to him, you know?” He said with a shrug, voice thin. “I…the reason I wanted to enlist in the naval academy was that it would help me make sure I never forgot him. When I try and think back to when I was a kid…it’s hard to make out the pictures and remember him, I just know from all the photos.” Rooster sniffled. “But I’ve had the shadow of him hanging over me my entire life. I’m always going to be a Bradshaw, I’m always going to be his son. So I figured why fight it? Why not do what he did? He was a good man, a brave man. If he is up there and looking down I just…I want him to be proud of me.”
“He is.” Maverick placed his hand on Rooster’s shoulder. “God, kid, you could have been a circus acrobat and your dad would be grinning from ear to ear. Your mom too. They love you. No matter what. Even if they aren’t around to show it.”
Rooster started to tremble a little now, no longer able to contain his emotions. Maverick wordlessly pulled him into his arms, the way he used to when he was a kid who had a bad day at school or scraped his knee, or simply was angry at the world, because why the hell did he have to lose both of his parents before he could even get his license or buy a beer, meanwhile other kids his age had whole families, with siblings, even, and took it for granted.
“Thank you…” He said into his shoulder. “For being there, for…for everything.”
“Of course.”
When he eventually pulled away, the sun was starting to peek over the horizon. They would be due at the academy soon enough. Both of them stood, dusting sand off their clothes.
“I just want you to know, Mav…”
Maverick looked up at him. “Yeah?”
“Whatever choice you make…if you think I’m not ready for it, I won’t take it personally. I promise. I know you’re only doing your job.”
“You’re a good pilot, kid.” He met his eyes. “You wouldn’t have made it this far if you weren’t.”
Rooster smiled a little.
“So I take it you’re not going anywhere? Vice Admiral said you probably wouldn’t stick around.”
He shook his head vehemently. “Hell no. I’m seeing this through. I won’t let him get in the way of that. We’ve come too far now.”
There was so much conviction in his voice, it almost made him believe that the mission which had only been framed as suicide up until now, might actually be possible.
At least, only if Maverick was in charge.
Regardless of what happened, Rooster was determined he was standing right behind him. Just the way his father would have wanted him to.