Our Bruised Bodies | Bradley Bradshaw

ACT THREE - PART ELEVEN

Once more cheers!

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"She didn't even fight me as I called her Graice." Ice muttered into the phone, sitting on the couch, while letting his gaze wander through their living room, because no matter where all the members of their family was, their little patchwork, it was still their living room.

There were still pictures of them on every available surface on the walls. Smiling and laughing faces everywhere. There was still that little patch over the corner of the coffee table, so Grace wouldn't hurt herself as she started to walk. Ice left it in place, even after the kids left home for good, distantly thinking, hoping that one day they would need it again for their grandchildren.

"You were dazed after an adrenaline crash before as well. She will be fine." The voice on the other end of the line told him and yes, it had happened to the best of pilots before. Leaving them dazed or even fainting on the flight deck. It was normal, but Grace had slept a few hours before Cyclone finally got her on the phone for him.

"She said she killed four people." Ice added, worried. He wasn't sure what he would prefer, Grace being plagued by the thought that she had killed someone to safe others or if she would be bragging about it. About her confirmed air to air kills. About her being the only thing that stood in the way of World War III.

"Please tell me that you told her, that she had no other choice, that it's not her fault." Mavrick said and Ice could picture him, standing there, holding the phone to his ear and pinching the root of his nose while his eyes were closed.

"I did. I don't think she believed me though." Ice responded, before picking up the pillow that was laying next to him on the couch, it was a newer version of the one, they rested Grace on as a newborn to make sure she was comfortable and properly supported while being with them on the couch. Ice sometimes wondered how Maverick had felt about Grace being born, joining their little arrangement.

"As long as she had heard it from you. You need to keep reminding her. You can't let her break." Why are you saying 'you'? Don't you mean 'we'? She's your daughter more than she's mine, we both know that. You were always better with her, for her. I was just there, not much of a help at all. You handled her as if she was yours and not mine. She's your daughter too.

"Gracie's our daughter." Ice replied, not knowing why he put the emphasise on 'our' or why he had said it in the first place, they never addressed things like that, not since the children have both left home and refused to look back.

"What do you want me to say?" Maverick wondered, but Ice didn't answer him, which caused the younger pilot to snort.

"You know, Tom. Telling me once in a while what you want won't kill you." Oh, no. Maverick didn't understand. It would. It would kill him to tell Pete the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, just as much as hearing the truth would kill Maverick. It was just so unfair, all of it was unfair. But maybe they finally found something worth dying for.

"I want you to come back, Pete. I want the children to come back. Our house no longer feels like home, I want it to feel like home again." He pointed out, feeling physically sick upon admitting it, the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line was an indication to how surprised Maverick was, hearing all these things. It was a poor testimonial to their relationship. God forbit, they would ever call it that out loud.

"I can't speak for Bradley and Grace." Maverick said carefully.

"Then just speak for yourself. Will you come home?" Ice wondered, only to hear Pete exhale once more.