Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Maverick brushes his fingers gently across the glass of Bradley's official photo, too miserable to care about getting it smudged, and sniffles. "I miss him, Sli."

Slider puffs out a deep sigh. "I know, buddy."

He knew something was up when Maverick called him out of the blue to ask if he wanted to pop by his hangar and grab a beer with him. He was already tipsy and sobbing by the time Slider got here, and it was hours before he finally confessed with his head hanging low and his voice barely above a whisper what brought this on.

It's been years since Bradley left, yelling at Maverick he never wanted to see him again and slamming the door behind him. True to his word, the kid hasn't contacted Maverick or any of his uncles ever since, ignoring their attempts to reach out. Slider supposes he understands; he can only imagine how he'd feel if anyone tried to mess with his application to the Naval Academy, especially someone he trusted as implicitly as Bradley did Maverick. Sometimes, though, he can't help but think Bradley would be tempted to try to mend the rift between them if he could see how much the older man is suffering.

Maverick takes another glance at the picture Ice had smuggled him after Maverick begged him for weeks on end, and promptly tears up again. "It's my fault he doesn't want to come home anymore."

Slider fixes him with a stern look. "I know that's hard for you to grasp but not everything is your fault, Pete. Bradley made his choices."

Regardless of what Maverick had done, it was still Bradley's choice to abandon him. In his mind, Maverick must've deserved it for standing between him and his dream, but a lifetime of Maverick being there for him and Carole should count for something. That's not to excuse Maverick's actions; Slider still thinks the Naval Academy was Bradley's decision to make, and at the very least Maverick ought to have talked to him about it. But once he got a slightly clearer head, Bradley should've been able to realize the old man deserved better than to be cast off.

"Don't know what's wrong with me. I keep breaking people" Maverick murmurs from where he's slumped against the P-51's landing gear. Slider can't take a good look at his face—it got dark hours ago and neither of them bothered with flicking the lights on—but he sounds so sad that Slider wants to bubble-wrap him and protect him from the world.

"No, none of that" he firmly shakes his head, crouching down to put an arm around Maverick's shoulders and pull him close. Maverick sags into the embrace like a drowning man clutching at a lifeline. "Ice and I are still here, aren't we? Bradley's been angry for way too long but we both know you'd get yourself blown up before letting anything happen to the kid. Your heart's always been a little too big for your own good, Mav. That's the only thing that's wrong with you."

Maverick buries his head in the crook of Slider's shoulder, and whimpers. The former RIO makes no attempt to stop him, knowing it'll be good for him. Maverick is too damn good at bottling up his feelings and pretending that he's fine so this outburst was bound to happen sooner or later. Slider is just glad his dumbass friend thought to call him first.

It takes a long time but Maverick's sobs eventually decrease to occassional hiccups, and his eyelids begin to flutter closed. He's managed to exhaust himself, and if Slider had to take a guess, his head must be throbbing, too.

He gives the other aviator a soft nudge, "How about we get you home for the night, huh, Pete?"

Maverick can't even dredge up enough energy to argue. "Okay" he says weakly, and Slider offers him a hand to get up.

They lock up Maverick's bike in the hangar since he's in no state to be riding back, and Slider makes a mental note to come back tomorrow and get it. Wobbling slightly, Maverick manages to find his way to the passenger door of Slider's car while the other man secures the place, climbing in and buckling up when Slider reminds him to.

Slider slips in through the other side, glancing at Pete to make sure he's comfortable. "Ready?" he checks as he slots the key in the ignition and starts the engine.

Maverick tears his gaze away from where he's staring absent-mindendly at the starless sky through the windscreen, and looks at Slider with a hopeful face. "Do you think he'll come back one day, Sli?"

Slider sighs, and starts pulling away. "I hope so, buddy."