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Maverick was not in the mood for this. He had been taking care of himself for years, why were this ragtag group of aviators suddenly determined to ruin his life?
Okay, maybe they weren’t trying to ruin his life. It was a possibility. They might have been worried about him and trying to help. Potentially. Didn’t mean that Mav had to like it.
He spun on his heel the second that Iceman came into view. This man was supposed to hate him, why was Ice trying to get him to take a nap?
Maybe Mav should have done better at hiding his yawns. This was all fine. Mav had been keeping this sleep schedule (by which he meant no sleep schedule) for years now. It started in school with late assignments keeping him up at night and turned to sleepless nights worried that he was going to let everyone he ever cared about down and he would be left alone again. That Goose would finally realize that he wasn’t worth this effort and drop him. That Carol would finally decide that he was no good for her husband and convince Goose to leave. That the couple would tell Mav to stay away from their family because he was a bad influence on Bradley.
No matter how many times Goose and Carol told Mav that they considered him family, it was always hard to actually believe it.
Mav slipped into a different, smaller room. When he said room, he really meant closet. It was so incredibly odd to have people care about him. Over the years, he learned that he was the only person that he could rely on.
And then Goose showed up. Goose apparently believed that his diet was completely awful, that it should be burned in a fire. (Mav had, in fact, caught Goose on several occasions attempting to burn his energy gel packets. Jokes on him, somehow those things were indestructible and Mav had to stop himself from smirking as he picked one out of the burning coals and deposited the sweet, sweet nectar inside into his mouth while making direct eye contact with his RIO.) Goose also believed that his sleep needed work, but had decided that he could only fight one battle at a time, especially when said battle was against Maverick. Most men could only handle up to a quarter of a fight against Mav, but Goose wasn’t just any man.
Apparently, neither were any of the men in their class at Top Gun. Hollywood had legitimately tried to force-feed Mav a piece of broccoli (which was clearly unsuccessful as Mav wouldn’t be caught dead with broccoli in his mouth, even if Hollywood pretended it was an F-14. Which admittedly, was pretty funny.)
A knock came on the closet door. “Mav?” Slider’s hesitant voice came through the wood. “What are you doing in the closet?”
“Suffering,” Mav replied, voice muffled because he was shoving his face into his hands. He had hoped to avoid everyone by sequestering himself. Why must Slider show up now of all times?
There was a sliding sound and Mav glanced down to see the shadow of Slider now sitting against the door.
“Hey,” came Slider’s voice gently, too gentle for someone dealing with Mav in his humble opinion. “Why are you running from Ice?”
Mav laughed, although the sound was a little too forced and wet to be considered real. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Why are you here?” ‘Why are you caring about me?’ was a question that hung in the air, no voice given to it yet still tangible all the same.
“You shouldn’t be alone right now,” Slider said softly. God, Maverick was used to harsh words being thrown his way. He was used to being ignored. He was used to being egged on in something that would surely get him in trouble later. He was certainly not used to this tender edge to Slider’s voice that seeped through the crack under the door and tried to nest in his brain.
“Why can’t you all just leave me alone?” The thoughts and feelings and altogether sense of wrongness that was infesting Maverick’s entire being burst out as he slammed open the door to the closet, forcing Slider forward.. “I was doing fine before you, I’ll be fine after you!”
Slider slowly stood up, wiping his hands on his pants as he did so. A small smear of blood blossomed on his pants from the scraps that had emerged on his hands from being pushed forward by the door. “Were you fine?” he asked. “Were you really?”
“I was fine with Goose here!” Maverick said loudly, almost yelling at Slider. In some deep part of himself, he mourned the fact that Slider was hurt because of something he had done. He mourned the cruel tone of voice he used. He mourned the fact that he was pushing Slider away. Slider, Iceman, Hollywood, they were all just trying to help. He just couldn’t understand why they refused to acknowledge the fact that Maverick wasn’t worth helping. Goose had tried and look where that got him. A coma in the hospital because of a crash Mav had caused. A crash caused because he was too reckless, too stupid, too Maverick.
Still, Slider didn’t move away like Mav had hoped. He had wanted Slider to walk away, to be forced to leave by Maverick before he could make that choice for himself. Instead, Slider took a step closer. He moved to place a hand on Maverick’s shoulder but paused, stopped either by the memory that he had blood slowly leaking from his hands or the realization that Mav was stiff as a board, almost shuddering.
“I care about you,” Slider said. Maverick opened his mouth to protest this sentiment, but he was silenced with a single look from Slider. “I know you think that you don’t deserve it. I know you think that because you and Ice have that whole rivalry he couldn’t possibly care about you either, but that is likely one of the stupidest thoughts you have ever had.”
“I have a lot of stupid thoughts,” Mav said begrudgingly. “What about the time I snuck a chipmunk into your plane?”
Slider slowly slid his hand down his face, clearly on the verge of regretting all his life choices. “That is also up there in terms of the stupid thoughts you’ve had.”
Mav started to perk up, the banter cheering him up if only a little. “What about when I-”
“Let’s be clear, you have a lot of dumb thoughts and actions,” Slider cut him off. “It’s just that your most incredibly stupid thoughts are directed inward and focus on hurting yourself rather than outward focusing on causing as much chaos as possible.”
“Everyone who loves me gets hurt,” Maverick said, gaze bordering on a glare.
“Maybe you’re right,” Slider said evenly. “After all, it hurts me to see you alone and hurting.”
Mav froze. “I-”
Ice burst around the corner, looking incredibly flustered with hair sticking up in every direction, looking like he had just run a marathon. Very unfitting to his Iceman image. “I swear to fucking god,” he hissed. “You will go to sleep if it kills me.”
Maverick stuck out his tongue childishly, falling into the comfortable banter easily. “Get ready to die then.”
Slider shook his head, though Mav could almost swear that there was fondness in his gaze. “Come on, pipsqueak. You do look exhausted.”
Ignoring Mav’s squawk of protest at being called a pipsqueak, Slider delicately took his hand and started pulling him down the hall. “I’ve got this,” he called over his shoulder to Ice who looked about ready to collapse on the floor out of relief.
While he certainly agreed that Maverick needed rest, Slider didn’t protest when the smaller man began pulling him in the opposite direction from where a nice (by military standards, at least), warm bed would be waiting for him.
“Could we sit and watch the sky for a little bit?” Maverick asked in a small voice, one befitting his stature but not his personality. “Me and Goose used to when I was too riled up to sleep, but he can’t do it with me right now because I-” He cut himself off. “I haven’t been able to sleep much. Guess he’s sleeping enough for the both of us right now,” he joked weakly.
Slider looked torn between whether he should smile or frown. He settles on just responding to the question. “Let’s sit and watch the sky then.”
Mav smiled slightly and took the lead, his hand sliding out of Slider’s as he made his way down the hall and then up some stairs.
“Should we be going up here?” Slider asked, warily looking at the ‘Do Not Enter’ sign on the door at the top of the stairs.
“I do it all the time,” Mav said in lieu of an answer. As Slider rightly guessed, this in fact meant that they should not be going up there. He found himself too fond of the younger man to protest though..
Opening the door, the pair found themselves stepping out into the bright sun on the roof of the short, squat building they had been in. With a small gesture, Maverick sat on the edge of the roof, legs hanging down, and Slider followed. The two sat and shared a few moments of silence, broken only by Mav’s shaky breaths before either spoke.
"I was in the foster system, you know?" Maverick admitted quietly, reaching out and slowly taking Slider's hand. The touch was delicate, afraid of rejection and ready to detract at the slightest sign that he wasn't wanted.
Slider took the offering of trust, rubbing circles into the back of Maverick's hand with his thumb.
Maverick relaxed imperceptibly.
"I got used to Christmas coming with snow." He sighed, staring out into the harsh desert with no clouds, let alone snow gracing the heavens. "Not presents, not until I met Goose and Carol at least, but almost always snow."
(If Slider privately made a mental note to buy Mav some of those plush snowballs so that he could throw them at people, that was nobody’s business but his own. And maybe Maverick’s, come Christmastime. He certainly would not be admitting to assisting in the crime if asked by Ice.)
“I’m sorry,” Slider said gently, so gently. It was so unlike what Mav had assumed Slider would be like when they had first met. “I know there’s nothing I could have done to help, but you didn’t deserve that.”
Mav looked down, but kept his hand in Slider’s, which Slider took as a win, however small of one it was. “It feels like I do sometimes,” he said quickly, as though it was hard to get out and as if he didn’t do it all in one go, he never would say the words. “It feels like it was my fault and I have to-” He choked up a bit, looking steadfastly away. He was horrified to find that tears were building at the corners of his eyes.
“You have to let us in,” Slider said, moving ever closer and wrapping his arms around the smaller pilot. “Please let me in, Mav,” he said, his voice softer now.
Mav sighed, leaning into Slider. “You could call me Pete,” he offered shyly. “Goose is the only one who does nowadays and now you’ve joined the Roof Club so you have that right too if you want.”
Slider smiled contentedly. “Ron,” he offered in return. They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes and Pete found his eyes slipping shut as he rested in the sun.
Ron had an idea. “Why don’t we take a day trip soon?” he asked.
Pete blinked sleepily at him. “Where to?” he yawned.
“I’m sure we can find a mountain somewhere nearby with some snow.” Ron smiled and squeezed Pete a little closer. “Let’s get you some snow, make this Christmas real.”
“You mean it?” Pete mumbled, slipping closer and closer to the land of sleep.
“With all my heart.”