Chapter Text
Maverick gasped in pain as another fist slammed into his stomach, knocking whatever remaining air he had from his lungs. He would’ve collapsed to the ground if not for the two men on either side of him, holding him up as the other men took turns swinging.
“I bet you like that,” the leader jeered, his brown eyes smoldering in hatred. He leaned close to Maverick’s face and grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head back as he leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “You ready to give up that name of the dude you’re fucking?”
Maverick wretched his head away and spat blood on the ground. Anger glittered in his gaze as he lifted his head. “Never.”
The leader stepped back and looked to the rest of the group. “Oh you will. We don’t need one of your kind with us. Probably already has some fucking disease.”
Maverick wasn’t given a chance to respond as he was thrown to the ground with the men immediately jumping on him, pummeling him with fists and kicking at his flank and head. His arms frantically reached over his head to protect it as he curled in on himself, every punch and kick seeping in to his bones. Through the pain, he tried to focus on Ice’s face, and the feeling he got when they were together. Nothing could compare to it, and he wasn’t about to put the man he loved in danger because of some small minded people. He could take it if it meant keeping Ice safe.
A sudden strike against his chest had him gasping for breath as he rolled away from the men, tears catching in the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t show weakness; not in front of these men. They would pounce on it and use it against him. The brutality that he saw these men unleash on him was something he had never experienced before. So this was what pure hatred felt like.
“I think he’s had enough,” one of the smaller men whispered as he watched Maverick heave for each breath.
The leader waved his hand as the other men backed off. They still eyed him hungrily as if they were the predator and he was the prey while the leader took a step forward, glowering at seeing Maverick beaten and bloody on the hard concrete. With a sick grin, he leaned down and spit on Maverick’s face while the rest of the men laughed and caterwauled behind him.
“Freak,” he spat before motioning to the other men to follow him. They cheered and laughed as they raced away, recounting every blow and sound that Maverick made.
Maverick hissed in pain as he lifted an arm and weakly wiped the saliva from his forehead. He glanced down and saw his clothes were torn and bloody as bluish, purple bruises had already began to form on his skin. Blood smeared on the concrete, though he was in too much pain to know exactly where it had come from. The pain was unmatched, and when he tried to stand, he instantly fell back down with a yelp of pain.
Maverick squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled his head towards his chest. “Fuck,” he whimpered, heart beginning to race. He couldn’t stay here for someone else to find him like this. Any attack on base was to be investigated, and he couldn’t bring himself to bring attention to this. They would question him and anyone who didn’t know he was gay would certainly find out. That would make things not only more dangerous for him, but certainly Ice.
No, Maverick knew that wasn’t an option. He had to get somewhere and quickly. Too bad standing seemed to be out of the question. He didn’t think that anything was broken, but his body felt like one giant bruise. His left eye had begun to swell until he could only see blurs through it. Blood trickled from his mouth and when he ran his tongue over his teeth, he felt one of his molars shift. Damn, how were they able to knock one of those lose?
Maverick gritted his teeth in concentration as he glanced up to a nearby light pole that was set in cement. If he could just drag himself over, maybe he could haul himself to his feet. Once he was vertical, he was almost certain that he could force himself to walk. It would surely be painful beyond compare, but it beat potentially bleeding out on the sidewalk.
“C’mon,” Maverick snapped as he forced himself on his arms as his back spasmed. “Stand up! You think Ice wants to see you dead on the news!”
Maverick lunged forwards when the light pole came without striking distance. His arms wrapped around the cold pole as he used all of his strength to scale the pole with his arms wrapped so tightly around it that Maverick felt he could merge with it. His legs flailed miserably under him until his knee bent and he felt his shoe gain traction. He scooted farther up the pole as he pulled his other leg under him and perched it beside his first leg. Half pulling, half heaving, Maverick managed to stand to his full height, still holding the pole like a lifetime.
He wasn’t sure how he stood like that, cheek pressed against the cool surface as his breath came in tired pants. He wanted nothing more than to drift off right there, to close his eyes and long for things to be better when he opened them. Reality came crashing down on him when he heard the familiar rumble of tires on the road. He rushed to duck behind the pole as a black car whizzed past him, grit and wind puffing around it and burning his eyes.
“I have to get out of here.” Maverick looked around at the various buildings. The parking lot where his bike was parked was across the base. There was no way he was making it there even if he crawled. He would need a better solution.
While Maverick’s mind finally caught up the rest of him, he began to recognize a few of the buildings. In fact, the main infirmary was the closest building to him. A quick look at his watch told how late it was, but maybe fortune would actually be on his side for once.
Maverick took in a strong breath and gathered himself before pulling away from the pole. He struggled not to immediately cry out loud at the pain that seared all over his body as if he was on fire. Muscles ached and bones felt bruised as he attempted to take a few steps towards the building. His left leg seemed to drag behind him as he limped to compensate, desperately trying not to place anymore weight on that appendage than he needed to.
Blood dripped into his eyes, obstructing his already narrow field of vision. He turned his head to the side to spit out a mouthful of blood as he felt as if he was choking on it. Each swallow left him feeling like he would vomit from sheer agony. The last thing he needed was for his abdomen to contract. If that happened, Maverick swore he would fall and never be able to get back up.
Each step was like nails being driven into his flesh. The medical building felt like it was growing farther away instead of closer. His eyes closed tightly in concentration as he managed the last few steps before slumping against the wall. It was the only thing keeping him up as he reached for the comm system. With shaking hands he pressed the button for the main infirmary. If luck was on his side, maybe the man that he needed would actually be there.
“Go for medical.”
Maverick brightened as he heard that familiar. “Savant,” he sputtered, choking on another mouthful of blood.
The voice on the other end of the comm paused. “Maverick, is that you? What’s going on?”
Maverick chuckled lightly, quickly grasping at his side when he realized just how bad of an idea that was. “Oh, you know, just out with friends and fucked up a little. It okay if I head in?”
“Sure. I’m in my office.”
Maverick reached for the door, and once he heard the familiar click, heaved it open. The hallways and reception area were empty, hardly even a light on to guide his way. Maverick didn’t mind, as he wasn’t exactly keen on seeing the sorry state that he was in. He could feel the pain; he didn’t want to see it also.
He kept limping about, favoring his entire left side as even the slightest pressure made his ankle feel like it would snap in half. He held his breath as he rounded the corner to the offices that some of the doctors held to do end of the night charting and paperwork. Maverick had been down here plenty of times to harass Savant or invite him to things.
Maverick finally arrived at Savant’s office to find the door slightly ajar. He pressed his forehead against the wooden door and pushed it open. The hinges squeaked, pulling Savant’s attention from his charting. “Maverick,” he gasped, the pen he had been writing with falling to the ground.
A playful grin twisted Maverick’s face as Savant rushed forward, supporting him instantly. When Savant’s arm wrapped around his waist, Maverick winced. Even light touch sent a jolt of pain through his entire body and he came dangerously close to letting out a shrill cry.
“What the hell happened,” Savant breathed as he half led, half carried Maverick over to the corner of his office where a chair was pushed to the back wall. It was mostly for guests or sometimes patients receiving hard news, but right now, it was the safety net that Maverick needed to stop himself from passing out.
Maverick slumped over in the chair. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing,” Savant repeated. “Look at yourself! This is clearly not nothing!”
Maverick flinched away from Savant’s sharp tone. It wasn’t something that he heard often, as Savant was always so controlled. It sent a jolt of worry down his spine. If Savant was acting like this, then clearly he must be in truly sorry shape. Maverick hardly had the strength to react to it, save for frowning when Savant drew closer to him.
“Think I’ll live,” Maverick joked with a small grin.
Savant’s eyes widened when he saw the blood coating Maverick’s mouth. “It’s still too early to tell,” he replied dryly. “But I would say it’s not looking great from my point of view.”
“Fuck. Better bring in my next of kin.”
Maverick suddenly shied away as Savant lifted his shirt. Blossoming bruises coated his ribs and yellow discoloration showed on his lower abdomen. Heat pooled from those areas when Savant held his hand close, not daring to touch anything for fear of causing Maverick anymore pain.
“I’d say not to be so dramatic, but I feel like that would be disingenuous,” Savant muttered as he continued to take inventory of the various injuries that Maverick was sporting. Just when he thought he had found them all, another one would rear it’s ugly head, leaving Savant dumbfounded as to how he would deal with all of them.
“Think Ice will still think I look handsome,” Maverick questioned when Savant seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.
Savant turned back to Maverick and began to gingerly palpate around his face, testing for any broken bones around his busted lip and black eye. “He’s going to ask more questions than I am, which brings me back to my original question. What happened and who did this?”
Maverick pulled away from Savant’s grasp. “Who said anyone did this? Maybe I just fell. Ever think of that?”
“No, actually. No fall I’ve ever seen has looked like this.”
Savant wasn’t the person Maverick could hide or lie to, that much he knew. He sighed heavily as his head hung. “Look, some guys were just being dicks, wanted to teach me a lesson or some shit.”
“Ah, I see.” Savant drew back momentarily. “You know, you can press charges. Not everyone in the world is as small minded as the military can be on certain things.”
Maverick looked away from the doctor and swiped a hand quickly over his glistening eyes. “It’s not like I’m ashamed to be out so long as no one gives Ice shit. What do you do?”
“Well, I’ve taken on a more civilian-like role now. Plus, a lot of people don’t know about us now that Thunder is out of the military. However, I will say, you protecting their identity won’t get you anywhere.”
“There is no way in hell I’m letting anyone know this happened,” Maverick raged. His ribs flexed as he breathed heavily, pressure crashing upon him with each angry word. Pools of light clouded the corners of his vision while he pitched over the side of the chair as each new wave of pain overwhelmed him. “Fuck.”
Maverick’s head was gently forced back into an upright position. Everything seemed to happen so quickly around him with Savant moving about, dressing his wounds and setting the injuries that he could. It was excruciating, the pulling and tugging and effort that it took just to sit upright while Savant worked. Maverick remained silent, a real feat for someone who enjoyed wisecracking and joking so often. The only sound he uttered was a catch of his breath when the pain finally became too overwhelming.
A cool and wet piece of gauze was suddenly pressed against Maverick’s eye. Maverick squinted from his remaining eye as he saw Savant seeming to hover in front of him. “I need to call Ice.”
Maverick readjusted the gauze over his eye, the trickle of cool water gently rinsing over his eye quelling the ache. If only he could prolong this inevitable conversation just a while longer. He knew the risk when he came to Savant what he may do. No matter how much he tried to fight it, he would be powerless to whatever Savant finally decided.
“Please, don’t,” the dark haired pilot begged. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”
The desperation was clear in every fiber of Maverick’s being. Savant held his gaze for as long as he could before looking away. He flicked his wrist to eye his watch, the time practically glaring at him.
“It’s Ice or my place.”
“Your place?”
Maverick’s attention immediately shifted from one of intense anger and foreboding to interest. “Your place?”
“Well, I can’t very well leave you here, can I? And the Navy gets a little grumpy if I spend the night here and I’m not working,” Savant pointed out as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “So, it’s either Ice or me. Just know that if you come home with me, Thunder may ask a couple questions. His inhibitions have definitely waned these past couple of months.”
Maverick took a mental inventory. He could only imagine how he looked if his pain was any indication. Would he risk Ice’s reaction? Or would Thunder’s be better? Then again, it could be beneficial if he had Savant nearby in case things changed.
“Tell Thunder he’s about to have the best sleepover of his life.”
To Be Continued….