Chapter Text
How the hell he and Rooster had managed to survive this, Maverick would never quite know. It was a miracle alone that they even survived their initial mission, let alone this as well.
At least a huge amount of luck must have been involved. How else would two fighter pilots both survive getting shot out of the air, steal an F-14 from enemy territory, manage to escape unscathed from a dog fight against an Su-57, and land their crippled jet safely back aboard an aircraft carrier?
The entire ship's deck crew stood waiting for them, cheering and clapping their hands as soon as the jet had come to a stand-still. The two pilots had already been presumed dead, so everyone was elated to see them return safely after all.
Maverick quickly climbed out of the jet. He was just as astounded by his own safe return as everyone else was. But between all the cheering and jovial pats on his shoulders and back, Maverick only realised quite late that their safe return might not be so safe after all…
It took him a full minute to notice Rooster had not moved at all, still in his seat and making absolutely no attempt to join in the celebrations. One might assume he needed a moment after everything that had happened today, but the look on the young man's face told Maverick something was seriously wrong.
"Rooster?" He stepped back up on the wing of the jet to get closer to Rooster, still in the RIO's seat. "Are you alright?"
"No…" Rooster took a shuddering breath. "I– I'm hit."
The words didn't immediately land with Maverick. It wasn't until he noticed the golf ball-sized hole in the side of the jet, right next to Rooster, that the severity of this situation dawned on him: some time during the dog fight, a bullet had penetrated their jet after all and struck Rooster.
"Show me." Maverick did his best to remain calm. Rooster slowly took his hand away from his left side, the fingers and palm stained a deep crimson. He looked up at Maverick with absolute terror portrayed on his face, and his entire body trembling with fear.
"Okay, okay…" Maverick felt the fear surge through himself now, too. "I'm getting you help. You're going to be fine, I promise."
Maverick hoped beyond hope that that was indeed true, because he was not losing this kid so soon after reconnecting with him.
"Get the medics!" Maverick yelled over his shoulder. "Get the medical team over here. Now!"
"Mav, I…" Rooster muttered painfully, "it– it hurts, and I… I'm scared." His hand took an iron grip on Maverick's sleeve. "Please, don't leave… don't leave me alone."
"I won't, I'm not leaving you." Maverick covered Rooster's shaking hand with his own, and gently patted it to try and instill some reassurance.
Their moment was broken by the arrival of the medical team. Maverick almost had to pry Rooster's fingers away from his sleeve.
"No…" Rooster moaned softly, fear shaking his voice.
"I have to, kid," Maverick apologised, "I need to make some room for the doctors, but as soon as they've got you out, I'll be right back with you."
Their eyes locked for a moment. The blood loss and pain were already visibly taking a toll on Rooster, with his eyes starting to lose some of their focus and his breaths way too rapid for comfort.
"It's just for a minute, kid," Maverick assured.
Finally, Rooster's fingers slackened, and Maverick moved himself off the jet's wing. He had to do it, but it still felt like he was abandoning Rooster. The kid wanted him by his side, and Maverick wanted to be by Rooster's side just as much. But he had no choice, because what Rooster needed now most of all was medical attention.
The ship's team of doctors immediately sprang into action. Maverick had barely cleared the wing or they were already up there. All their attention was focused on Rooster and determining the severity of his injuries. Maverick caught only flashes of their conversation.
"Bullet wound left side, clear of heart and lungs… substantial blood loss… breathing and heart rate elevated… immediate surgery required…"
It didn't comfort Maverick much, as it all sounded urgent and intense. But he took some hope from the fact that the doctors were still speaking to Rooster, and that he appeared to be answering them, albeit with some difficulty.
Finally, after a few tense minutes, the medical team pulled Rooster out of the jet.
He screamed out in pain at being moved, continually whimpering and groaning until he was placed on the gurney that stood ready underneath the jet's wing.
Just as Maverick had promised, he was back by Rooster's side as soon as he could. With Rooster now on the gurney, Maverick saw the full extent of the injury for the first time. And it looked worse than he had first feared…
A large bloodstain stained almost Rooster's entire left side. Underneath his sun-bronzed skin, Rooster had gone extremely pale and it wouldn't be surprising if he passed out any second now.
Still, Rooster managed to fix a glassy gaze firmly on Maverick. "D–don't leave me…"
After all the bravery he had shown today, during their mission and after, the young fighter pilot broke. He was trembling from head to toe now with fear, pain and blood loss, almost begging for Maverick to not leave his side.
Maverick shared a glance with the head of the medical team, whom he also knew was the ship's surgeon. He received a minute nod back, telling him he was cleared to stay with Rooster for as long as possible. It was evident that Rooster would go straight into surgery, but Maverick was committed to be there for him right until that moment and immediately afterwards.
"Calm down, kid." Maverick rested a hand on Rooster's shoulder. "I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere."
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Maverick followed at a trot as the medical team hurriedly wheeled Rooster inside. He knew his way around this ship, and, unfortunately, also to the infirmary, so Maverick knew exactly which turns to take.
After what felt like endless zig-zagging through the ship's many corridors, the gurney was finally pushed through the doors which granted access to the infirmary. The team of doctors immediately started preparing Rooster for surgery.
Rooster was relatively calm now. On his back, he lay staring glassily up at the ceiling, still fighting to remain conscious. He felt a little short of breath, and his heart raced to pump the limited amount of blood through his veins. Seeing Maverick still by his side comforted him, but he was not consciously aware of having his fist curled tightly around the captain's sleeve.
"What– what's happening? What are you doing?" Rooster startled back into a panicked mode when a nurse started to cut away his G-suit and the shirt he wore underneath, baring his torso and arms.
"We need you to remain still, lieutenant." The nurse spoke calmly, yet urging Rooster not to struggle against her.
"No, no, I need…" Rooster tried to sit up, even though it sent fresh waves of pain through him, and he was quickly working his way into hyperventilation. "I need my suit. Without it the G-forces will knock me out." He frantically pushed the nurse's hands away, effectively blocking her every attempt to continue what she was doing.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw," she said seriously, "the blood loss is causing a delirium. Please, listen to me: calm down, and don't work against us. This will all be over soon."
Rooster rapidly shook his head. "No, no, no, no…." He rambled.
Suddenly there were hands on either of his shoulders, pressing him gently, but definitively, back onto the gurney.
Maverick now hovered over him. "Calm down. Breathe. They're helping you."
"Mav…" Rooster's voice shook. "Everything hurts. And the G's…"
"There's no G-forces, kiddo, you're not in the jet anymore. You're injured, though, and you've got to let these people do their jobs." Maverick forced himself to sound calm and collected, but inside he was just as scared as Rooster. "They're going to bring you under in just a minute, and you won't feel any pain anymore, but you have to calm down."
The nurse took the opportunity of Maverick distracting Rooster to cut away the rest of the clothes from his upper body. She quickly checked his dog tags, before passing along instructions to the rest of the medical team.
"Get me two bags of O-negative, please. No known allergies. IV-line is in and dripping, line for blood transfusion is ready. Let's bring him under."
The nurse stepped away and was immediately replaced by the anesthesiologist.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw," he addressed Rooster, "I am going to administer the anesthesia now. You may experience the sensation of blacking out. I realise it can be an unpleasant feeling, but no need to be alarmed. Just give into it."
Rooster fixed another fear-filled gaze on Maverick.
"It's okay, kid," Maverick assured, giving Rooster's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I'll see you on the other side."
"Will you be there when I wake up?" Rooster's voice had never sounded so small, and so void of his usual confidence.
A small lump formed in Maverick's throat at seeing Rooster this vulnerable, and he had to swallow it away before he answered. "I promise you I'll be right there. You won't be alone."
The anesthesiologist slowly emptied the contents of a syringe into Rooster's IV-line. "Please count back from ten, lieutenant."
"Ten." Rooster kept his eyes on Maverick as he softly counted backwards as instructed. "Nine, eigh…"
Maverick listened to Rooster's voice trail off, and he knew the anesthesia was kicking in. Rooster's eye slowly slid shut and his head lolled to the side as he was dragged under completely.
Maverick gave Rooster's shoulder one final squeeze. "Hang in there, kid."
"He's under," the anesthesiologist confirmed.
"This is where we leave you, captain," the surgeon announced as they wheeled Rooster through another set of doors, behind which Maverick knew was the operating room. "We will inform you as soon as we're done."
"Thank you," Maverick answered softly.
Now, the long wait would begin…