Chapter Text
“You, uh, wanted to see me?”
“What was it this time?” Nick didn’t look up from the letter he was reading, but Maverick knew he wasn’t pleased with him.
“Hmm?” He tried to play it off as being ignorant, fiddling with his shirt hem.
“You missed the morning meal, again— and the morning chores in the community garden. That’s the 7th time this month,” Nick sighed, setting the letter down and frowning at the younger man. “You—-what’re we going to do with you, Mav?”
Maverick shrugged.
“Do you want to go back to working in the mines, hon? Is that—-I know that can’t be what you want. You’re not made for being cold and dark underground.”
Maverick shuddered involuntarily, thinking about the salt: crunching under his shoes, spilling into his shirt, all around him.
“Mav?”
“No, Nick—I just—-I was on my way to the meal but then I felt this breeze and I saw the sky and the clouds and I just had to be closer to them so—next thing I know I’m up on the mountain and everything’s open and the wind’s rushing and I—-I just forgot. I heard the bells for morning chores and I ran here as fast as I could, honest, but—-“
Nick frowned, watching the younger man try to explain his actions, again . It had been years since he’d found the kid, but Pete still wasn’t adjusting to life at the service center the way the other orphans had. Hell, he still didn’t really answer to Pete, his god given name. He preferred the moniker the miners bestowed upon him when he was a skinny nobody deep in the dark of the salt mines. Said nobody had bothered to call him Pete since before.
Before his parents died. Before his father was labeled a deserter in the Great War and his mother—- well Nick wasn’t sure what his mother had done but she was gone and Mav couldn’t stand the sight of blood.
Being the son of a famed deserter was no joke either. When Nick found the kid in the mines, he’d been there for nearly 10 years, thrown into the dark by unscrupulous men who figured orphan meant nobody cared.
He’d been 16 then, and after 6 years at the service center, Pete still wasn’t exactly considered marketable for most jobs. But there was no way Nick wanted to send him back to the mines.
“I don’t think being here is working for you, Mav—“
“No! Wait—-Nick, please—-I—-I won’t miss the meal or chores ever again. I won’t leave the center, even! I’ll—I’ll learn Italian or or French like you’ve been suggesting—-I—-this center is all I have, please—-“
“I’m not kicking you out, honey,” Bradshaw soothed, moving to sit on the front of his desk. “But I think you need a—-a change of scenery. An acquaintance of mine is asking for help actually, and I think you’d be perfect for the job. You’d be working with Bernie, even, so someone can keep an eye on you.”
He tried to goad the younger man with the joke, but Mav was almost frozen, sitting ramrod straight.
Nick sighed.
“His name is Captain Tom Kazansky—he’s a former captain of the Austrian-Hungarian squadrons. Flew in the Great War even. He’s in need of someone to help watch his 7 children—“
“ Seven children?” Maverick’s eyes widened.
“There a problem Mav?” Nick grinned. “Yes, seven. Ice and his wife took in several orphans along with their two sons—-but he lost Sarah a few years ago. Hasn’t been able to keep anyone employed to help with them since.”
“Ice?”
“Iceman was his nickname in the air,” Nick shrugged. “He’s as serious as they come and won’t take kindly to chaos. But he’s a good father and a friend, so I—-I think you’d be a good fit. Carole—she loved those kids Mav. You will too, I know it!”
“I—I’ve never watched kids, Nick. I—what do I know about kids? ”
“You know how to have fun, Pete,” Nick ignored the sharp inhale. “You know kids need love and attention. You know they need to feel safe. And you know what it’s like to grow up not feeling those things. You won’t let that happen to those children. I know you won’t. Have a little confidence!”
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“Have confidence, he says——don’t think too hard, he says—-“ Maverick muttered, kicking an errant stone as he slowly walked up the drive to quite possibly the biggest house he’d ever seen.
This was going to be a disaster. This was—-how on earth was he supposed to relate to these kids? To not be his usual chaotic self? This—-this felt like his last chance for placement at the service center. He knew he’d been a difficult person to work with, but—-
Steeling himself, Mav squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. He raised his hand and knocked firmly, trying to appear calm and unaffected.
It must not have worked, however, because Bernie offered him a rather unimpressed look when he opened the door, standing to the side to let Mav through.
“Still wearing the threadbare jacket I see,” the butler offered lightly.
“Oh, I, uh—-“ Pete blushed. “I have some other clothes I can wear I just—-and I sew now! So—-I—-“
“Then I guess we’ll see to it that you receive textiles as soon as possible,” an unamused voice drawled from further inside the house.
Maverick stiffened, turning towards the sound. There stood the man that must be Iceman. Nick’s description didn’t do him justice. All stone chiseled with an icy glare and strong jawline.
“You must be the captain,” he offered, moving to offer his hand for a shake as one blond eyebrow creeped towards icy locks in barely contained confusion.
“Tom Kazansky,” even his voice was cold. “And you’re the new child caretaker? Peter, was it?”
Maverick flinched. “I actually go by Maverick, or Mav if you prefer, uh, sir.”
“Hmm,” Tom was clearly not impressed. “We will see. Now—-you have been brought in after a long line of expertly qualified individuals have quit, so don’t take it too poorly if you’re out of this house within the week. They didn’t make the cut and you are so—-“
Tom trailed off, openly looking the smaller man up and down. What was Nick thinking sending him this scrawny, uneducated—-dark hair all mussed, green eyes that were clearly more Scots than Austrian, lithe muscles —-
“Unorthodox, sir?” Bernie offered, snapping Tom from his daze.
“Right,” he bit out tightly. “Thank you, Bernie. Unorthodox. I suppose we shall see what the children make of you.”