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callsignlucky · 1 year

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talk to me, lucky (part 7)

summary: You're Maverick’s kid. You’re also Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend—or at least, you were. What lies between you two now is uncharted territory.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/mitchell!reader

wc: 1370 (sorry it's a short one y'all)

a/n: heyyyy....how y'all doin.....

so what happened was i actually died BUT they uploaded my consciousness into a robot so i could keep this going. everyone say thank you to miles teller's superbowl ad for reviving top gun summer into top gun spring anyways LOVE U GUYS MISSED U GUYS :))))

Aunt Sarah smiled at us as she met us in the foyer, though the smile didn’t entirely reach her eyes. Seconds later I knew why.

It came back, she said. Nobody knows.

I wasn’t much of a crier, but the sight of tears in Aunt Sarah’s eyes had my breath catching in my throat. She smiled sadly at me, reaching up to cup my cheek in her hand. “Oh, sweetheart.” She whispered, and I leaned into her hug as she pulled me into her arms.

“I’m so sorry.” I choked out, voice shaking, and she nodded as she pushed me back by the shoulders to look at me.

“Me too.” She replied, brushing some hair away from my face. “He’s waiting for you two in his study.” She knew we knew where it was, and I felt dad slip his hand into mine.

“Come on, Birdie.” He urged softly, and walked along with him down the hall. He gave me a moment to quickly wipe my tears away, before the door was pushed open. I stepped in first, heart breaking with each cough Ice struggled against. He turned at the sound of his door opening, and his face lit up like a little kid on Christmas. He grinned at me, opening his arms wide, beckoning me over with his head and a wiggle of his fingers.

In turn, I felt like a little girl again as I rushed forward to wrap my godfather up in a hug. He laughed a little at the force of it, his hand coming up to cup the back of my head. I buried my face in his chest, fighting against the tears as I clung to him. His other hand rubbed slow circles on my back, lips coming down to kiss the top of my head—a habit he and my father shared that I’d never grow tired of. Eventually I pulled away with a sniffle, and his hands cupped my cheeks. “It’s good to see you, Uncle Ice.”

Ice nodded in agreement before holding an arm out to Dad. He joined the hug, and I felt safe, wrapped up in the arms of my constant. The only two men in my life who have never left me or let me down, not even once. The two men who made me feel loved and cherished and supported, made me feel like I could conquer the world and then some. After a moment Dad moved to get Ice seated again, and I pulled up a chair for dad before making myself comfortable on the edge of Ice’s desk.

“How’s my wingman?” Dad asked, although we already knew the answer. Ice leaned forward, fingers flying across the keys of his computer.

I want to talk about work.

Dad sighed softly, shaking his head a little. “Please, don’t worry about us. What can we do for you?” He was looking for a genuine answer, and I hid my smile behind my hand as Ice stared at Dad for a moment before pointing at the computer. When Dad turned his head to busy his eyes with something on the wall, I rolled mine.

“Rooster’s still angry with him about what he did.”

Dad huffed through his nose, lolling his head to look at me. “I thought eventually he’d understand why. I hoped he’d forgive me.”

Ice leaned forward, typing.

There’s still time.

I nodded in agreement, but Dad shook his head at us. “The mission is less than three weeks away. Kid’s not ready.”

Then teach him, Ice said, and I had to agree. If anyone was capable of getting Rooster ready for this, it was Maverick. I knew that, obviously Uncle Ice knew that—Dad was here for a reason. I just didn’t understand why he couldn’t see it.

“He doesn’t want what I have to give.” I could tell he was getting frustrated, and as Ice leaned forward to type again, Dad shook his head quickly, waving his hand. “Ice, please. Don’t ask me to send someone else to die, don’t—don’t ask me to send him. Either of them.” He paused, side-eying me sitting on the desk. “Send me.”

My heart slammed to a stop. I hated thinking about what Dad was implying. His demise. It was inevitable, especially given his chosen line of work, and yet the mere thought of losing him sent my mind hazy with a fog of anxiety. I felt my face twist into confusion and hurt as Ice’s keystrokes filled the room. Why does he think he deserves to die on this mission? Why is he convinced someone has to die??

Dad’s breath caught in his throat as Ice stopped typing.

It’s time to let go.

Something in the room shifted. This wasn’t a conversation I needed to be involved in. I wanted to give my dad the opportunity to mourn Goose all on his own, with the only person who could help him through it. Iceman and Maverick may have had their differences in the beginning, but there wasn’t anyone else on the planet who knew what kind of toll the burden of Goose’s death took on a person. If anyone blamed himself for Nick Bradsaw’s death as much as Pete Mitchell, it was Tom Kazansky. Silently I slipped off the desk, squeezing my dad's shoulder before letting myself out of the room.

As they talked, I stayed in the hall and eyed the photos lining the walls, smiling faintly at the memories trapped within the frames. It was a healthy mixture of both personal and professional snapshots, which was very on brand for Uncle Ice, and I stopped about halfway down the hall when my eyes landed on one of my favorites.

I couldn’t have been older than fourteen, sitting beside Bradley on Goose’s grave having a picnic. It was a tradition we did every year on his birthday for as long as I could remember, something I wish we hadn’t lost in our time apart. We always talked to Goose like we had known him our whole lives, but between Aunt Carole and Dad and Uncle Ice and the various other pilots we’d encountered over the years, we did know him. That, or we had the closest thing to it. I sighed heavily, pressing my fingers to the headstone.

“Talk to him, Goose.” I whispered. “Tell him it’s okay.”

The door opened behind me after a little while longer and I turned to find Dad and Ice standing there, and I smiled sadly at Dad when I noticed the red around his eyes. “Aww, did the old man get a little weepy?” I asked Uncle Ice as he opened his arm to me, sliding into his side and hooking my arms around his middle. Ice huffed out a laugh with that big grin of his, nodding.

“Well, he’s always been emotional.” He said with a half shrug of his shoulders, and I grinned up at him with a little laugh. Ice squeezed me tighter as Dad mumbled something about him being the emotional one, which Ice pointedly ignored. “How’s my favorite copilot?” He asked softly, and I squeezed him around the middle.

“Tip top and ready for takeoff, Iceman.” I replied, and Ice smiled fondly with a nod.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I closed my eyes, savoring it for as long as I could before we finally split apart. “Hungry?” Ice offered me his arm, and I nodded.

“Starving.”

“Good. I want to hear more about you and Lieutenant Seresin in the shower.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down and I groaned in annoyance, my head falling back.

“Oh, come on--you know about that??”

Ice laughed out loud, and I’m sure it probably hurt him but it was a sound I loved hearing. “I know everything when it comes to my Lucky.” He informed me in a whisper and I rolled my eyes, looping my arm through his and helping him along down the hall towards the kitchen. Launching into detail of the whole sordid affair, we left my father standing in the office doorway dumbfounded, before he blinked himself back to reality and hurried after us.

“Hold up--when were you in the shower with Hangman??”

TAGLIST!!!!! I TAGGED EVERYONE I CAN IM SORRY FOR WHO I MISSED

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callsignlucky · 2 years

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talk to me, lucky updated taglist

i have tagged everyone that I can! thank you all for your support on this series, it means the world. love u guys frfr

read Talk To Me, Lucky part 6 here!!

taglist :)

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callsignlucky · 2 years

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talk to me, lucky (part 6)

summary: You're Maverick’s kid. You’re also Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend—or at least, you were. What lies between you two now is uncharted territory.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/mitchell!reader

wc: 2.7k

a/n: good morning aviators! after a week, three revisions, and a power outage i present you with this monstrosity! enjoy :)

TIME ON TARGET -3:00:00

“Time is your greatest enemy.”

Dad’s voice cut through the briefing room early the next morning.

Something had shifted between Bradley and I, that was plain to see. Phoenix had commented on it in the lockers rooms and I gave her a half assed explanation of the bare bones before meeting Bradley outside and heading down to the War Room. Hangman eyed us as we sat next to one another, and I tried not to let the smirk on his face get to me as I kept my eyes on my father as he briefed us on the mission specs.

“Phase One of the mission will be a low level ingress attacking on two-plane teams. You’ll fly along this narrow canyon to your target. Radar guided surface to air missiles defend the area. These SAMS…they’re lethal. They were designed to protect the sky above, not the canyon below.”

Bradley spoke up to my left. “That’s because the enemy knows no one is insane enough to try and fly below them.” He said, and I looked from him to Dad as he turned from the screen to face us.

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna train you to do.” Everyone exchanged glances, everyone in mild disbelief, while Bradley averted his eyes out the window. “On the day, your altitude will be one hundred feet maximum.” I felt my pulse quicken. That was low. Very low. “You exceed this altitude, radar will spot you, and you’re dead. Your airspeed will be 660 knots, minimum. Time to target—two and a half minutes. That’s because fifth-generation fighters wait at an airbase nearby.” In a blink, specs for those planes popped up on screen, and my father focused on them. Or at least he appeared to. “In a head to head with these F-18s, you’re dead. That’s why you need to get in, hit your target and be gone before these planes even have a chance at catching you.” Hangman turned his head to look back at Bradley, that smirk on his face as cocky as ever, and I gripped the pen in my hand tight. Rooster was unphased, simply gazing back at Hangman before looking head on and knocking his knee against mine. “This makes time your greatest adversary.”

“You’ll fly a route in your nav system that simulates the canyon. The faster you navigate this canyon, the harder it will be to stay under the radar of these enemy SAMs. The tighter the turns, the more intensely the force of gravity on your body multiplies. Compressing your lungs. Forcing the blood from your brain. Impairing your judgment and reaction time. So today, we’re going to take it easy on you. Max ceiling, three hundred feet. Time to target, three minutes.” Looks of shock were exchanged, and I must’ve not had a very good poker face because Bradley knocked his knee into mine again. The sensation was a comfort, and I was suddenly very glad we got our shit straight when we did because that was added stress neither of us needed. Not when the mission was as high of stakes as this.

Maverick wished us luck, and Hangman grinned lazily, head lolling to the side to look back at us. “Bradshaw’s already got his good luck charm. Don’t you, Rooster?” He asked, and I frowned, opening my mouth to say something, but Dad dismissed us to our planes before I could.

Dad didn’t believe in luck. He believed in hard work and skill, but I knew he meant it, for each and every one of us. We were the top one percent of pilots in active duty. The best of the best of the best—and that course kicked our asses.

Phoenix, Bob and Coyote were up first. Due to a miscommunication, Coyote broke the ceiling, and was shot down by a SAM. Dad wasn’t gentle in reminding them exactly how they failed.

Payback, Fanboy and Hangman were next. As always, Hangman’s arrogance got them killed, speeding through the course and sending his wingman into a wall.

“What happened?” Dad asked after we regrouped back in the War Room, and Hangman sat in his seat without a care in the world and it was getting under my skin very quickly.

“Well, I flew as fast as I could.” He said with a tilt of his head and a smirk on his lips. “Kind of like my ass depended on it.”

“And,” Bradley chirped up, “you put your team in danger and your wingman’s dead.”

Hangman shrugged. “They couldn’t keep up.”

I was next, with Omaha and Halo on my six. Everything was going fine, until they cut left too sharply and over corrected to accommodate, sending them directly into the canyon wall. All I could do was sit silently while Dad read them to filth in front of everyone, and was very glad he didn’t praise me for properly maintaining the course and making it to the target.

Rooster and the Ivy Leagues were next, and I wasn’t anticipating anything fun from the briefing that followed.

“Why are you dead?” Dad’s voice had an edge to it, and if I could’ve grabbed Bradley’s hand to calm him, I would have. “You're the team leader up there. Why are you, why is your team dead?”

“He’s the only other one who made it to the target.” I snapped, before I remembered myself and adjusted in my seat. “Sir.”

“A minute late. He gave time for enemy aircraft to shoot him down. He is dead.”

Rooster’s jaw flexed as he straightened his back. “You don’t know that.”

“You’re not flying fast enough.” Hangman drawled from our left, head leaned back against the seat almost as if he were bored. “You don’t have a second to waste.”

Bradley was getting frustrated, and he wasn’t the only one. Tensions were growing by the second, split between my father, Bradley and Jake. “We made it to the target.”

“And superior enemy aircraft intercepted you on your way out.” Dad snapped back at Rooster, but that didn’t sway him one bit.

“Then it’s a dogfight.”

“Against fifth generation fighters.” Dad said incredulously. I knew why he was doing this. Conjuring up reasons why Rooster failed, that’s the way his brain worked, worst case scenario. He wanted him to be prepared so he would make it home, I just hated he was doing it like this.

“Yeah, we’d have a chance.” Rooster defended, and I shifted in my seat.

“Bradley.” I whispered in warning, glancing between the two men as their voices raised by the second.

“In an F-18??”

“It’s not the plane, sir. It’s the pilot.”

“EXACTLY.” Dad snapped out suddenly, and I felt my stomach drop as Bradley’s face fell. There was no way he just said that. Not in front of everyone.

Bradley swallowed hard, gripping the arm of the seat tightly. “There’s more than one way to fly this mission.” His voice cracked.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Hangman retorted, drawing attention to himself. “On this mission, a man flies like Maverick here, or a man does not come back. No offense intended.” He said with a nod towards myself and Phoenix, and Bob leaned forward with an annoyed smirk.

“But somehow, you always manage.”

“Look, I don’t mean to criticize. You’re conservative, that’s all.” Hangman said with a nod towards Bradley.

“Lieutenant.” Dad warned, but Hangman was on a roll with no signs of stopping.

“We’re going into combat, son. On a level no living pilot has ever seen. Man, or woman. Not even him.” At those words, my stomach dropped to the floor. I knew where he was going, and my eyes darted around the room as I sat up straighter.

“Jake, stop—“

“And yet, a woman is the only one who hit the target on time.” Phoenix cut me off to remind Hangman sharply. “Or did you forget?”

“Right. Miss Lucky.” Hangman drawled out with a nod, looking back at me again. “Must be something in those Mitchell genes that makes you such excellent pilots. I wonder, was it your father who signed off on you going by your mother’s name? Or was it your godfather, Admiral Kazansky?”

My blood ran cold. I felt everyone’s eyes on me, and suddenly I felt about two inches tall.

“I’m sorry, what?” Coyote asked with a frown, while Fanboy leaned forward to look at me.

“Hold on. Lucky, you’re—”

Phoenix turned in her seat completely, and it was the look on her face that hurt the worst. Betrayal, judgment…a mixture of both.

“You’re Maverick’s daughter?” Bob asked, almost in disbelief with those puppy dog eyes trained on me and I couldn’t find the words while Dad tried to get the attention of the room off of me and back on him. Hangman, however, accomplished that quickly.

“I’m just saying, Ponyboy.” He said, and Rooster slowly looked over at him. “It’s no time to be thinking about the past.”

And just like that, Hangman dropped the other shoe.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It wasn’t a question, it was a command, Bradley’s voice coming from somewhere deep in his throat. I felt for him, but I knew it was only a matter of time before someone found out.

“Rooster,” Dad warned, but we all knew it was too late. There was no controlling this now, and it was like watching a train wreck.

Hangman turned back around in his seat, satisfied by the chaos he caused. “I can’t be the only one who knows Maverick flew with his old man—“

“—Lieutenant, that’s enough—“

“—or that Maverick was flying when his old man—”

Bradley launched to his feet in a flash, and I was up almost as fast as shouting sparked through the room like the end of a lit fuse. Bradley got one good shove in before he and Jake were pulled apart, and I pushed him back by the chest, Phoenix and Bob each grabbing an arm as he pointed at Jake.

“You son of a bitch!” Rooster shouted over everyone, and despite it all, Hangman started laughing, displaying his palms in surrender.

“I’m cool, I’m cool,” he said as he shrugged Fanboy off of him, ignoring my father as he said that’s enough. I turned to Jake completely, standing between him and Bradley, and Bradley’s chest hit my back as Jake walked towards us. “He’s not cut out for this mission. You know it.” I planted my feet as Rooster tried to advance, and Dad put his hand on his shoulder in further defense.

“That’s enough!” He yelled again, and Hangman turned his attention to him.

“You know I’m right. If you’re gonna choose someone besides me, Maverick, your daughter is the obvious choice. Nepotism baby or not.” His eyes flicked down to me and I held my glare as he got into Rooster’s face before stepping back.

“You’re all dismissed.” Dad said breathlessly, and he didn’t have to tell Rooster twice before he was out that door. Everyone else followed suit as I slumped down in the first row, looking up when Phoenix passed by without even turning her head.

With a heavy exhale, Dad lowered himself into the seat next to me. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, but I kept my eyes trained at the floor, hands balling into fists in my lap.

“Not your fault.” I whispered back, not trusting my voice to be anything but.

After a moment I stood up on impulse, squeezing his shoulder before heading out of the War Room to the locker rooms. Phoenix watched as I completely passed the women’s, rage carrying me along as I stomped right into the men’s.

“Lucky!” She called after me, but I wasn’t listening. Coyote spotted me first with a little yelp of shock, snagging a towel to cover himself up.

“Lucky, this is the men’s—“

“Where is he?” I knew they knew who I was talking about, and Bob quickly pointed towards the showers, hiding behind his locker door. I stalked in the direction he was pointing, turning the corner quickly. I found the only shower that was running and yanked the curtain open, not thinking about the fact that I was about to see Jake Seresin as naked as the day God cursed the Earth with him. He smiled down at me without a care in the world, standing in the spray of the shower, carding his fingers through his hair.

“Lieutenant Mitchell, what a pleasure. How may I service you today?” He asked sarcastically, and I balled my hands into fists as a crowd slowly formed behind me.

“Fuck you.”

Jake raised a brow. “Here? In front of everyone? You dirty girl, Lucky.” For a moment, just a moment, I saw the appeal and understood why those air bunnies always trapsed after Jake with hearts in their eyes. I shoved him back by the chest and stepped forward into the shower, pointing a finger in his face.

“I don’t give a shit about you exposing me in front of everyone, that’s your prerogative. But you keep Goose’s name out of your mouth or I will make you swallow your teeth. Do you understand me?” Behind me, I heard Phoenix call my name again, but it fell on deaf ears as Jake stepped forward, eyes alight with fire.

“I don’t understand, why the sudden urge to protect little Rooster? Seems to me like you hated him a few days ago. What changed?” He propped his arm on the shower wall above my head, and I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, eyes glued to his. “Is this love, Little Mav?”

“Love is for children.” I snapped suddenly. “I’m protective of a dead man’s good name. Not Bradley. He’s a big boy, he can handle himself.”

“Riiight.” Hangman nodded slowly, the movement causing water from the shower head to spray onto my face. I blinked it away, and accidentally caught a glimpse of what I’d been avoiding, and quickly averted my eyes back to his. This only spurred Hangman on. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can look if you want.”

“Oh, fuck you, Jake.” I said with a roll of my eyes, cheeks dusted with pink as I took a step back. “You know, people would like you more if you weren’t such an insufferable prick.”

He smirked wide, taking another step towards me. “I don’t mind a prick every once in a while, Lucky. How about you?” I took another step back, but didn’t anticipate the small lip of tile that separated the shower from the rest of the locker room. My foot slipped, but before I could fall, Jake’s hand snapped out to snag around my waist, pulling me back onto even ground with ease. “Careful there, Mitchell. Wouldn’t want you to fall.” He said with a wide grin, and I felt my breath catch in my throat as I smacked his hand away.

“Don’t talk about Goose again.” I repeated myself sharply, though my threat seemed puny after letting Jake fluster me like that in front of everyone. I stepped down from the shower again and yanked the curtain closed, turning around to find Phoenix and Bradley had joined the party. Everyone else quickly looked away from me, and I headed out to change, with Phoenix hot on my heels.

“What the hell was that?” Phoenix asked as soon as we were in the women’s locker rooms, and I groaned and let my head fall against the lockers.

“Complicated.” I replied with a huff, before shedding my flight suit.

Like the past few nights, everyone met in the rec room to make plans for the evening. The consensus seemed to be the Hard Deck with Hangman, but I wasn’t feeling much like drinking, which is why I could’ve kissed the ground my father walked on when he entered the room. Everyone fell silent, eyes on him, and I could tell he was debating in himself on whether or not he should do what he came to do. Apparently he resolved his conflict with a fuck it, and tossed me my motorcycle helmet.

“C’mon, Birdie.” I glanced back at Bradley as I stood, holding the helmet to my chest.

“Where are we going?”

Dad took one last look around the room, eyes lingering on Jake for a moment, before looking back at me. “To see your godfather.”

Despite it all, despite Jake Seresin ruining my reputation, I smiled wide and slid off the back of the sofa, following my father to the door. I stopped before I left, turning around to Bradley. “Big Gulps when I get back?”

“Sure,” Rooster replied with a nod, smiling. “But you’re buying.”

#top gun #top gun maverick #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #bradley bradshaw/reader #bradley rooster bradshaw/reader #rooster top gun #rooster/reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun

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callsignlucky · 2 years

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Pretty.

#It’s the way I need to write a Jake fic like yesterday

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callsignlucky · 2 years

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talk to me, lucky (part 5)

summary: You're Maverick’s kid. You’re also Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend—or at least, you were. What lies between you two now is uncharted territory.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/mitchell!reader

wc: 3.1k

a/n: here she is folks i hope i did good because my imposter syndrome was running rampant while writing this one. feedback on this jawn would be so appreciated ok love u guys come n get it

<- part 4

There are professional perks to being the goddaughter of a three star admiral, but the personal perks are far better—having a godfather that absolutely adores you no matter what makes it easier to be angry at your real father.

My phone buzzed from beside me with a text, and I snagged it from the comforter beside me, lifting my head from where it was buried dejectedly into my pillows.

🧊: I heard you had a bad day. Want to talk about it?

Dad must’ve talked to Ice about our argument. I sighed in frustration and hit my head against my NAVY-issued mattress in the NAVY-issued bland and beige bedroom that matched the rest of the NAVY-issued bland and beige house.

🍀: Not much to talk about, Uncle Ice.

Downstairs, the door shut, followed by the soft thump of Dad’s duffel bag hitting the floor. It took him a while to get home, and I assumed must’ve gotten chewed out by Sampson. I decided he deserved it for what he did to Bradley. My phone buzzed—another text.

🧊: I’d say there’s a lot to talk about. I heard about your time up in the air today! Tell me, where’d you learn to fly like that?

A grin split my face and I lightly rolled my eyes. I’d heard story after story of Maverick and Iceman’s infamous rivalry during their first time through TOPGUN. It was almost hard to believe, with how close the two men are now.

🍀: Oh, from the best pilot in the Navy. You might know him—his callsign’s Maverick.

🧊: Haha. Very funny.

🍀: I am a comedy genius, after all. :)

🧊: Funniest girl I know!

I couldn’t help but be hit with a wave of mixed emotions as I watched the line blink in the text bar. I hadn’t seen him in a while, and guilt ate at me for that.

🍀: I miss you, Uncle Ice.

🧊: I miss you more, Pip.

I groaned when that text came in, rolling my eyes with a grin and letting my head hang back. Pip. I was the girl with a handful of nicknames, but Pip was the one I detested the most. For as long as I could remember, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky had been calling me Pip. It was short for pipsqueak, obviously, and was endearing at first before I got older and then decided it was wildly offensive. Of course, that only egged my godfather on. Eventually it became a joke more than anything, but I still liked to give Uncle Ice the reaction he was after, even if he couldn’t see me. I could just imagine him in his study, that big smile spread on his face, laughing in that cocky way that he and my father were oh so familiar with. Him reaching out reminded me how badly I needed to go see him while we were in Fightertown. Maybe I’d ask him if he wanted to have lunch, after the mission. If anything could cheer me up, it would be an afternoon spent with him.

My phone buzzed again. A double text from Ice? Weird. Only it wasn’t Ice, it was from a number I didn’t recognize.

Open your window.

Frowning, I sat up in bed, eyes sliding from my phone to the window that opened up into the small front yard we had, not that we needed it. It always baffled me why they wasted the resources to put my father and I up in a house whenever we ended up on an assignment together. Probably another pen stroke from our good friend Admiral Kazansky.

Obviously I waited too long to push the window up, because a soft tap interrupted my thought process. I raised a brow, standing up from the bed and tossing my phone aside. Another tap sounded, followed by two more before I reached the window.

I don’t know who I was expecting to be stood beneath it, but it was not Bradley Bradshaw. I sat on the little bay seat and unlatched the window, before pushing it up. “Bradley?”

“Hi, Cherry.” His hands were pushed deep into the pockets of his jeans, t-shirt snug beneath what had to be one of Goose’s infamous, obnoxious Hawaiian shirts. “Can we talk?”

“Don’t call me that.” The words snapped out of me faster than I’d intended, looking away from him, but out of the corner of my eye I could see his lips tug up into a smirk.

“You called me Ponyboy earlier. It’s only fair.”

“I wanted to get your attention so you’d stop being a moron.” I said as I rolled my eyes. “Pebbles, seriously?”

“I wanted to get your attention.” He parroted back with that smirk still firm on his face, but seeing the unamused look on my face he dropped it almost instantly. “Seriously, can we talk? We could go for a drive.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” Still not looking at him, I folded my arms in a childish pout, using my big toe to push at the carpet.

“I’ll buy you a Big Gulp.” The offer hung in the air and it pulled my head up. I looked at the clock—it was nearly nine, far too late for caffeine, but the men in my life knew me far too well. Sugary drinks like Slurpees and Big Gulps were forbidden fruit to people who had to be in the best physical shape of their lives for the entirety of their career. I peeked down at Bradley.

“And Hot Fries?” I asked, and Bradley grinned with a nod.

“Whatever you want. The 7-Eleven is your oyster.”

“What if I want to go to Circle K?”

“Ah.” Bradley sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately, they don’t have Big Gulps at the Circle K. It’s 7-Eleven or bust.”

I pursed my lips in thought for a few more moments. “Give me five minutes.” I said, before standing, tugging the window back down, and drawing the curtains.

Jumping out of the window seemed like a better option than passing my father in the kitchen, but if I got hurt before this mission I’d never hear the end of it. So, I yanked on some denim shorts and a hoodie from 1986 that either belonged to Ice or Goose or my father or was forgotten by Slider or maybe even belonged to Hondo and scurried down the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Dad asked from the kitchen, and I used one hand against the door to keep myself steady as I slipped my feet into my sandals. Glancing over, he had a knife in one hand and a cutting board scattered with bell peppers in front of him.

“Gas station.”

“Okay.” I could hear the frown in his voice and my heart twisted. “Be safe.”

“Always.” I pulled the door open, pausing for a moment. “I love you, Daddy.” There. That made me feel better, even if I was way too old to be using the word daddy.

“I love you more, Birdie. See you soon.”

I left it at that and slipped out of the door, walking down the path towards the driveway before slipping into the passenger seat of Bradley’s Ford Bronco. As soon as I was buckled up he backed out and peeled down the street, and I shoved my hands into the pocket of the hoodie and closed my eyes against the warm California wind. Music played softly from the radio, classic rock, and it was kind of nice to see that some things never changed with Bradley.

Things were quiet on the ride over, and I decided to fall into the feeling of how things used to be. Two friends going on a late night snack run before a double feature of cheesy movies. I smiled as I watched California pass outside the window, remembering how many times we watched Interview With A Vampire with Emma Rosenberg from school. Mainly because she was in love with Lestat, who Bradley swore looked like my father. It hurt, being here with him, but at the same time it felt so perfect that I couldn’t even believe it had been ten years since we’d last seen each other. We fell back into place so perfectly it was like a puzzle finding its missing pieces. Bradley humming along to the radio, thumbs drumming softly against the steering wheel, it felt so right that I couldn’t imagine ever doing anything different.

We were in and out of 7-Eleven in a flash, and Bradley parked at the beach by the Hard Deck, which was still packed full of people. I foresaw a long night ahead for Penny Benjamin, but I knew she didn’t mind one bit. Having her close was a comfort, because I was unsure of how this conversation would go, but we were far enough out that nobody from the team would spot us and make assumptions.

I opened the bag of Hot Fries and popped a handful in my mouth, wondering if Bradley was gonna make the first move. By the time I swallowed, he was staring into his peanut M&Ms and I just wanted the silence to be gone. “It wasn’t my fault, you know.” I said as I leaned on the door, watching the waves through the windshield. “You could’ve been mad at him all you wanted, but I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Bradley sighed softly from beside me. “I know.” He murmured, and I looked over at him.

“So, why? Why leave me like that?” I felt my throat tightening up and knew I was in for it. But I didn’t care if I cried in front of Bradley now that I was older, even if I didn’t feel older. He deserved to see what he did, but the way his face fell made me feel guilty in ways I’d been told I shouldn’t. “Bradley, you were my best friend for our entire lives. You were always there, and then all the sudden you were gone. And I was so confused because I waited for you to come home. I waited for you to call, or write, but you never did and I just—I don’t understand. I don’t understand what I did to you.”

“You didn’t do a damn thing. You aren’t the problem. He is.” Bradley’s voice came out pretty harsh, but I knew he was just frustrated. Frustrated with this entire shitty situation we’d been put in. He sat his drink in the cup holder with a heavy sigh, leaning his head back and closing his eyes for a moment. “Your dad screwed me over. And I was so…so goddamn mad I couldn’t see straight, and I just—I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want to think about him, I didn’t want anything to do with him. And you…” He paused, looking over at me. “You are a Daddy’s girl if I’ve ever seen one. You put him before everyone, and I just…assumed that meant me too. I didn’t want to put you in a position where you felt like you had to choose. Staying away from both of you was just…easier.”

To me, that sounded like the stupidest thing I ever heard. But, Bradley’s feelings were valid, no matter how wrong I deemed them. I remembered what Dad had said on the beach, to put myself in his shoes, but that didn’t dampen my emotions any. “I shouldn’t have had to choose! B, we are your family! I understand wanting to get away but ten years? Ten years??”

“I wanted to reach out!” He interrupted me quickly. “God, I—I wanted to reach out to you so bad but then you—“ He cut himself off with a huff through his nose and I leaned forward.

“But then I what?”

“You enlisted. You enlisted, and your dad didn’t do shit to stop you.” Silence overtook the cab of the Bronco as Bradley stared at his hands, fiddling idly with his keychain as it hung off the ignition. It was cheesy—a little strip of red heavy duty fabric with the words REMOVE BEFORE FLIGHT stitched in white thread. It was so very Pete ”Maverick” Mitchell it almost hurt. “Your dad let you through and stood in my way. It made a lot of things crystal clear.”

“Clear how?”

“No matter how much he claims to love me, he’ll always put his flesh and blood first.”

“Bradley.” I scolded him like he was a child, brows furrowed with a look that called him out on how ridiculous he was being. “You know he loves you. He had his reasons, but that was absolutely not one of them.”

“I know, he told me his reason. He didn’t want to see me hurt, but that’s bullshit and you know it. He did it and it was selfish as hell, and then he turns around and lets his own daughter in?” He looked over at me. “He nearly ruins my career and then turns around and basically lights your way to an F-18 a year after pulling my papers. It’s not fair, and I guess…I guess it made me resent you a little.”

“That’s not fair.” I whispered, and Bradley nodded.

“I know it’s not. But I couldn’t help it. I just needed time, and every time I thought I was ready to face you I remembered that wherever you are, he wasn’t too far behind. I remembered his bullshit excuse and everything snowballed and the cycle started over again.” I sat up quickly, turning my body to face him.

“He told me the story of what happened with your dad, you know. His version of things.” The words came before I could stop them. I wouldn’t tell Bradley the real reason behind why Dad did what he did, but I could try and put it in perspective for him. I could try to get him to see where my father was coming from. Bradley blinked at me.

“He did?” He was surprised, and rightfully so. Dad loved to recount his glory days, told stories of his failures and victories and everything in between, but the day Goose died was something he never spoke about. Not even once.

“He had a nightmare, about a year ago. A really bad one, one he couldn’t wake up from. I woke up to him screaming and thrashing, calling for him, for Goose.” I looked at my legs, picking at the frayed hem of my shorts, grimacing at the memory. “He finally woke up, and he just…cried. Sat there in my arms and cried and cried, and I cried too because the last time I saw him that upset was when mom died. And when he finally calmed down, he told me what really happened.” Bradley knew the story, we both did, but we didn’t know the whole thing. Carole had told us about it when we were old enough to understand, when Bradley was old enough to start to show interest in the NAVY. Interest in being just like his father. “It wasn’t the jet wash or the flat spin that had him trapped in his nightmares, it was what happened after they hit the water. Bradley, he clung to your father’s body in the middle of the ocean for almost twenty minutes. Parachutes and flight gear weighed him down, the current tried to get him away, but Dad clung to his dead weight until rescue arrived. He said it felt like hours, waiting for someone to come save Goose, even though he knew he was past saving.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Bradley’s voice cracked and I could see tears shimmering in his eyes, and I reached out after a long moment and took his hand in mine.

“To try and help you understand.” I kept my voice soft, eyes on him even if he wouldn’t look at me. “At the time, Dad didn’t care what it did to your relationship because he was blind with fear. He’d look at you with the thought of you in a jet and he’d be back in that ocean with your dad. He was so scared of losing you, and it happened all the same.”

“But he didn’t pull your papers.” He whispered, like he was afraid if he talked any louder his voice would betray him.

“He learned his lesson with you.” I replied simply, dropping his hand and leaned back in my seat. Bradley stared out the windshield at the waves crashing into the sand, silence falling over us. Horrible, uncomfortable silence that made my skin crawl and it felt like it lasted hours.

“I’m sorry.” He said after a while, and I looked over to find him looking at me. “I’m so sorry for leaving you. It wasn’t fair. I just…I hope you’ll be able to forgive me someday because I miss you. I miss my best friend.”

My eyes searched his face for a long moment, and it made me wish I'd known Goose so I could make more accurate comparisons between the two because god, he looked so much like his father. “Bradley Bradshaw, you big softie.” I sighed heavily, taking his hand and slumping back in the seat, eyes trained back on the waves. “I forgave you ten years ago.”

“Yeah?” He asked, a smile in his voice, and I couldn’t help one from spreading on my face.

“Yeah.” I replied softly, nodding. “If you ever pull that shit again though, you can forget it, alright? No more Cherry and Ponyboy, I am just straight kicking your ass.”

Bradley laughed at that, so loud it echoed through the car, and dragged me across the middle seat into a big hug. “I’m never leaving you again.” He said into my hair as I wound my arms around his waist and buried my face in his shoulder. “I promise.”

After he finally let me go, I settled back into the middle seat, his arm draped across the back of it. Hot Fries and M&Ms sat between us to share, and we watched as the sun made its final descent beneath the horizon, washing the sky in a brilliant display of cotton candy pink and purple.

I didn’t know if things would smooth over between Bradley and my father, if Bradley could ever find it in his heart to forgive Dad like I forgave him. I didn’t know if things would ever feel completely back to normal between us, or if I’d always have a small part of me that resented him for leaving and he’d always have a small part that resented me for what my father did.

What I did know was that horrible tension between us had eased. I could breathe again. And right then, things were good. I was happy.

We were watching the same sunset.

taglist below! this thing is getting LONG! sorry if I missed anyone

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callsignlucky · 2 years

Photo

Top Gun (1986)

Directed by Tony Scott

Cinematography by Jeffrey L. Kimball

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callsignlucky · 2 years

Photo

Top Gun: Maverick (2022)

Directed by Joseph Kosinski

Cinematography by Claudio Miranda

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callsignlucky · 2 years

Photo

Lewis Pullman as “Bob” in Top Gun: Maverick

#Bob Floyd my beloved #my cousin loves u

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callsignlucky · 2 years

Note

I'm so obsessed with Call me Lucky! It has the perfect amount of angst without being to sad and then the plot is so intriguing I keep coming back to check for more. You are so incredible at writing I can't wait to see where you take the story.

This made me smile so wide. Thank you so much for your kind words! The support makes it so easy to continue on with the story, I’m so glad so many are enjoying it!

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callsignlucky · 2 years

Text

Collection of Various Resources for Top Gun Characters

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Compilation of his timeline, as accurately as possible

Full list of his ribbons and their meanings, including a headcanon and an additional note

His file from the movie

An illuminating headcanon (that is probably canon)

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Ribbons

Full list of his ribbons and their meanings, including a headcanon

Glen Powell confirming Jake’s home state

To be added

Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

Ribbons

Full list of her ribbons and their meanings, including a headcanon

To be added

Robert “Bob” Floyd

Ribbons

To be added

Javy “Coyote” Machado

To be added

Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia

Awards (not comprehensive)

To be added

Reuben “Payback” Fitch

To be added

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

Mav’s Hangar Reference Photos

To be added

Additional Information

Jets and their Markings

The Pilots and their Stations

Relationships & Related Info

Masterlist of the Pilots’ Ribbons & Explanations

Official TGM Hangar Layout

Home Squadrons

Possible Call Sign Origins Version 1 | Version 2 | TBA

Home State Guesses, Version 1 | Version 2 | TBA

Various Info from Rewatch

To be added

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callsignlucky · 2 years

Text

talk to me, lucky (part 4)

summary: You're Maverick’s kid. You’re also Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend—or at least, you were. What lies between you two now is uncharted territory.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/mitchell!reader

wc: 3k

a/n: me posting another part two days later? it's more likely than you think! i hit the angst button on this one sorry y'all :')

<- part 3 | part 5 ->

When Bradley Bradshaw was little, his father put glow stars on his ceiling when he said he was afraid of the dark.

After Goose passed away, things slowly faded away with time and nicknacks slowly started to be replaced as time marched on, memories began to fade, people started to talk about Goose less and less.

But the one thing that remained constant over the years were the glow stars Nick Bradshaw painstakingly pressed into the ceiling of his young son’s bedroom.

I remember them so vividly, even now. It was amazing to me how they shone just as bright in his pitch black room at the age of nineteen as they did when Bradley was two and tucked under his dad’s arm as he read him Goodnight, Moon for the hundredth time.

The night I realized I was in love with Bradley Bradshaw, we were lying beneath his stars. The irony of the whole thing was that I was only there because of a fight with my father. Dad and I didn’t fight often at all, which made those rare arguments peppered into my teenage years explosive. Honestly, I couldn’t remember what the fight was about, only that at some point along the way, Dad had mentioned Mom and the word disappointed and even though I knew he didn’t mean it, that he spoke before he thought, it sent me spiraling. I remember I trudged through the pouring rain down to the other end of the street because I couldn’t even stand to be in the same house as him.

Carole was waiting on the front porch for me with a big fluffy towel when I finally trudged up the steps. In hindsight, I should’ve realized then and there that I was the luckiest girl in the world—my father was madder at me than he’d been my entire life and yet he called Aunt Carole to make sure I didn’t catch a cold when I got to her house. That’s how much he loved me.

She helped me into the half bath downstairs, where one of my many changes of pajamas left at the Bradshaw house was waiting. She took my wet clothes and sent me and my fluffy towel upstairs to Bradley’s room.

I remember trudging up those stairs trying not to cry, because it was the worst thing I could possibly imagine for Bradley to see me crying. But, he was waiting in his doorway, brown hair tousled, clearly having been roused from a restful slumber. He smiled sleepily at me and held out an arm, and I remember how bad the sob that escaped me hurt my chest as I hugged him tight around the middle, and he guided me into his dark room and under his very fancy, very soft duvet.

We lay there in silence for a long while, his fan spinning, and my watery eyes were focused on the stars over our heads. There had to be hundreds of little neon green dots glowing above our heads—very childish for a nineteen year old, but it was such peace to look up and get lost in the cosmos from the comfort of a familiar bed.

“We’re analyzing this book in my Lit class.” Bradley spoke quietly, one arm tucked beneath his head and the other hand on his chest. “The Outsiders. Have you ever read it?”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, during my freshman year of high school. What’re you doing reading that in college?”

“It’s part of the unit. Revisiting books we read at a lower curricular level. It’s really cool to see how different we see books at fourteen compared to now. It’s like a whole new light.” Bradley never explained things to me like I was stupid, and ever since he started college it was nice to hear what I would expect once I graduated. “Anyways, it made me think of a nickname for you.”

“A nickname?”

“Yeah!” Bradley laughed out with a nod. “I mean, Little Mav is cute and all but it’s not even you, it’s just a play on your dad’s callsign. You need something special to you.”

Finally, I tore my eyes away from Goose’s stars and turned my head to look at Bradley. “Okay, what was the nickname?”

Bradley turned his head to look at me with a smile. “Cherry.”

“Cherry?”

“Yeah, like from the book? Cherry Valance?”

I laughed and nodded, waving my hand. “Yes, Bradley, I know who she is, but why Cherry?”

“You remind me of her.” Bradley said simply, and I raised a brow at him, though he could barely see it in the darkness.

“How so?“

“Well, Cherry is kind to Ponyboy, even if he does live on the other side of the tracks. And she’s whip-smart, and courageous. Open-minded, too, just like you. It just fits. Plus, you’re sweet, just like cherries.” Bradley explained himself very precisely, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I love it. Though, if I’m Cherry, I’ll need a Ponyboy.” I reasoned, and Bradley hummed thoughtfully.

“I suppose I could be your Ponyboy. If you’ll have me.” He mused after a moment with a cheeky grin, and I nodded quickly, turning my eyes back up to the stars again.

“I’ll have you always, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“I know you will. That’s why I love you.”

I remembered how well we took to those silly nicknames in the few years we had them before Bradley left.

I remember how bad he caused sunsets to hurt after he was gone.

———

As I walked onto the tarmac, sunglasses on my nose, I felt a hand snag my forearm, snatching me from my nostalgia. I was spun around unceremoniously, and Rooster was there, staring down at me over his father’s aviators.

“Did you know?” He asked quietly, probably to avoid the other pilots from overhearing. He really didn’t need to talk so quietly, because the planes nearly drowned him out. “About your dad being here—did you know??”

“Yes.” I replied, yanking my arm from his grip.

“You could’ve warned me.”

I clenched my jaw. “Warned you? What would you have liked me to say, Bradley?” I adjusted my footing, bringing my hand up to my chest. “Oh hey, so I know you haven’t talked to me in ten years and abandoned me over something my dad did, but just a heads up—he’s our new TOPGUN instructor!” He opened his mouth to speak, but my dad cut him off from behind us.

“Rooster!” A light switch flicked from within him. I watched as his spine went straight, and he stepped around me, continuing on his path to his F-18, abandoning our conversation entirely, like he did most things lately. “Bradley!” Dad called again, and I scoffed bitterly, headed for my plane all the same. “Lieutenant Bradshaw!” Dad barked eventually, causing Rooster to stop. I watched from the nose of my F-18 as Bradley turned, towering over my father. Angry at him, angry at me, seemingly angry at the world. It felt like a bullet entered my chest as I watched them interact, so very different from the memories of my youth. It felt like a black sludge was slowly creeping over them, infecting the happiness of the past with the reality of now. I wished things could go back to the way they used to be. I wished Goose didn’t die, that he’d had been there to raise his son, I wish his accident hadn’t scared his wife to death and pressued my father to make a deathbed promise. I wish Uncle Ice hadn’t helped my father pull Bradley’s papers, I wished Bradley would just understand my father only had his best interest in mind. I wished for a lot of things, things that would never come true, things that I couldn’t change but still weighed me down like a ton of bricks all the same.

Suddenly and all at once I shook that pain right out of my body, flapping my arms and hopping from one foot to the other, rolling my shoulders and neck and refocusing, readying myself to do my job. I wasn’t here to reminisce on the past, I was here to do a job and do it better than the men and women around me. I was here to live up to my father’s legacy. If we were going up against Maverick, there was no room in my head for anything other than the strategy and skill I knew I possessed, because I knew he was going to give us a run for our money.

And sure enough, he did. We dropped like flies, one by one by one. The pilot in me was frustrated, but the little girl in me was amazed. Never did I think I’d get to see my dad fly, witness firsthand why I was the daughter of a living legend who actually lived up to the legend. But up there in that cockpit, I got to watch him become Maverick, picking us off like lemmings led to slaughter.

First ones down was Rooster, who reaped what Payback and Fanboy sewed as the first victim of their idiotic two hundred pushup bet.

“That should be us down there.” Payback mused as we watched from the window while Hondo counted off Rooster’s pushups. I nodded.

“But it’s not. And now you know a little something about Rooster.” I replied, eyes lingering for just a little while longer before I turned and headed off for my time in the sky.

Next was myself, with Harvard and Yale as my wingmen. Much to my disdain, they’d stopped to take a selfie with Bradley as he did his pushups, which I found to be in poor taste. Dad killed them fairly easily once we got into the sky, but I put up enough of a fight to make him sweat before he finally caught tone. The sun was hot and my arms ached but I had to admit, I was all smiles as we hit the tarmac for our pushups, listening to Hondo taunt the Ivy Leagues about their selfie with Rooster.

Following them was Hangman, with Phoenix and Bob supporting. As much as I hated to admit it, Lieutenant Jake Seresin was one hell of a pilot. He lasted a lot longer than any of the others, even if he did play dirty and ditch his wingman to get those extra seconds. Watching him do his pushups was just as satisfactory as the previous group.

Dad killed Omaha, Coyote and Halo after that, and sent Fitz and the Ivy Leagues for another round with Hondo immediately after.

My final shot against my father left Hangman flying between myself and Bradley, and I kept my eyes ahead as I clicked my mask in place just as Hangman began to run his mouth. “So Rooster, mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Would it matter if I did?”

“What’s the deal with you and Lucky? You two can’t even stand to be in the same room as each other.” I rolled my eyes as he literally talked over me, like I wasn’t even there.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Okay. What about you and Maverick? Seems like he’s got you a bit rattled.” Even with his mask on I could hear the smirk in his voice, and Bradley rolled his eyes this time.

“Still none of your business.” He snapped, looking around. “Now where the hell is he?”

Dad’s voice cut through comms. “Been here the whole time.” Pushing my jet forward, I watched in disbelief as Dad pulled his jet up to loop on top of Rooster.

Completely inverted on top of Rooster.

Jake seemed to be on the same page as me, his eyes wide. “Holy shit.”

“C’mon,” Dad taunted, and I sighed heavily, slumping back in my seat in annoyance. “Let’s get it over with.”

“Fight’s on!” Rooster shouted, before pulling a hard right and turning the nose of his jet down.

“What is with these two??” Jake asked, and I just shook my head, watching as the two most important men in my life went head to head in a downward spiral. If I’d have been able to talk without choking up, I probably would’ve aired our dirty laundry out to Hangman right then and there.

“Alright, you put us here. How are you gonna get yourself out?” Dad grunted.

“You can bail out anytime!” Rooster huffed in response.

“How low you wanna go, Rooster?”

“I can go as low as you, sir! And that’s saying something!”

“What’s past is past, for both of us!”

“You’d like to believe that, wouldn’t you?” Rooster snapped out, some bite to his voice, pain in his words.

“Yeah, well the least you can do is leave her out of it!”

I angrily unclipped my mask at those words, quickly wiping away the tear that slipped down my cheek and turning my head away from Jake so he wouldn’t see. The last thing I needed was the cockiest pilot I’ve ever met seeing me cry in the cockpit, as if I didn’t feel pathetic enough. I wish Ice hadn’t signed that paper to push my father through to Fightertown.

“Hard deck is five thousand feet, fellas. You are running out of room.” Jake was trying to pull them apart, I’ll give him that, but his words fell on deaf ears as my father and Bradley went spiraling further and further down.

“Your strategy is about to run us to the ground. What’s your move?” My father asked Bradley, and I gripped the stick tighter in my hand.

“Pull up.” I muttered under my breath as Jake and I flew side by side, eyes on the active train wreck below us, neither one able to look away. The further they went, the faster my heart slammed into my chest, leaning forward in my seat until I couldn’t take it anymore. “DAMMIT PONYBOY, PULL UP!!” Rooster suddenly yanked the stick and leveled himself out behind but above my father, and the shot couldn’t have been more perfect.

“C’mon, Rooster, you got him! Drop down and take the shot!” Hangman urged from my right, and I found myself agreeing with him out loud, urging Bradley to pull tone and take Maverick down.

“It’s too low!” Rooster excused, and my dad declared for everyone to hear that it was too late, he had his chance, before he pulled the stick back and thrust the throttle forward. Hangman and I could only watch as Dad’s jet glided up into a Cobra maneuver, before dropping down and locking tone on Rooster.

“That’s a kill.” Dad declared breathlessly, and Rooster hung his head with a swear while Hangman shook his head.

“Same old Rooster.”

I was the last one to land, having taken my time to get back to base. I really didn’t want to see anyone, especially my father and Rooster, and I was thankful that at least Bradley wasn’t there as I climbed out of my cockpit. Hondo and Dad remained on the tarmac, talking to one another, and I thought I could slip right by them when I caught my dad’s eye.

“Lucky!” Dad called after me, but just like Bradley had before, I walked right by him. I heard him swear behind me before heavy bootsteps were on my tail, and his hand snagged my elbow, just like Bradley had done before.

Something in me snapped.

I whirled on my heel and dropped my flight bag, slamming my fists into his chest as hard as I could. With a soft ‘oof’ my dad stumbled back, eyes wide in disbelief as he looked at me, hands raised in defense. “Birdie—”

“Don’t you Birdie me, are you CRAZY?!” I screamed, the sensation unfamiliar and disgusting in my mouth. I never raised my voice, especially at my father and certainly not on a tarmac in uniform but I just couldn’t take it anymore. The anger between him and Rooster was driving me insane, there was a pit in my stomach that I couldn’t soothe and a lump in my throat that I couldn’t swallow and it was all their fault, and I shoved my father back again. “You could’ve killed him! You baited him, and for what? To tease him??”

“To teach him!”

“Teach him what?? HUH?? What did he learn from that?? What did you accomplish aside from making things worse??” I reached my hand up and Hondo quickly stepped between us, a hand on my shoulder.

“Lucky—” He tried, but I yelled right over him, pushing against his hand and swiping at my dad again.

“You need to pony up and admit you did a fucked up thing to him. And yes I know Aunt Carole made you promise before she died and yes I KNOW you’re scared because of what happened to Uncle Goose but Bradley is a big boy now and one of the best pilots in the Navy because if he wasn’t he wouldn’t be here so you need to grow up, step back and let him make his own choices!” The words came out of my mouth like vomit, so fast and so quick that it left me breathless at the end. I slumped slightly against Hondo’s hand, watching my father’s eyes search my face. “You are so stupid for breaking the hard deck. You could have died.” That lump in my throat grew larger, hands shaking as one came to rest on his chest. “You are all I have. Don’t you realize that? I already lost Bradley. Don’t make me lose you too.”

“I’m sorry.” My father whispered, and I just sighed, all the fight having drained out of me as I stooped down to grab my flight bag.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” From behind us, a familiar, deep voice boomed out.

“Captain Mitchell!” The three of us turned to find Bates standing by the hangar door, looking less than pleased. “Admiral Sampson would like a word.”

“I’ll see you at home.” I patted Dad’s back, before walking off, completely missing Lieutenant Jake Seresin standing by his F-18, a smirk on his face. Likely because he had just witnessed the entire thing.

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