Chapter 1: A Dodgy Beginning
Chapter Text
"You've gotta be shittin' me”
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. He was currently sat in 'The Hard Deck' with Maverick, catching up over a couple of cold beers. The slowly setting sun was streaming in on them from the window booth they sat in, casting a nice orange glow into the bar. Their aviator jackets squeaked against the seats each time one of them moved, breaking the occasional short but no longer awkward silence between them.
Things were good now, They were good. It only took them over fifteen years, but they got there in the end. Minus the occasional hiccup here and there, Mav and Rooster were slowly but surely returning back to their old ways- father and son;
Thick as thieves.
The conversation had been light when they first took their seats, talking animatedly back and forth to each other about anything and everything. Soon, their talk progressed to the exciting new chapter in Roosters career, as he was set to begin his new term at TOPGUN. This time, not as Maverick's student, but as a fellow instructor.
However, much to his transparent disappointment, Rooster wouldn't be teaching at the regular Topgun student level.
A few changes had been made at the TOPGUN base over the past year, namely a new course being introduced. One of which ran similarly to how the Naval Academy would. However, as opposed to the four year course at the academy, this one was only three years.
It was tested to see if this course could train up pilots to the same level in lesser time- granted the students chosen for this course were top level in their studies and results from their Officer Training School.
In summary;
Rookies. Bradley would essentially be training the rookies.
Thus, Maverick decided to let his figurative son- now turned work colleague- in on the courses newest recruits, and the specific squad that he would be overseeing. Just as Mav had anticipated, said topic immediately teetered to one student in particular.
Which had ultimately lead to Bradley's sudden and very colourful outburst.
"No, I'm not shittin you" was the older mans reply, taking a sip of his drink to cover his creeping smirk.
"You're telling me, an Eigh-" he fumbled on his words, gobsmacked. "Eighteen year old has already gone through her officer training and U.P.T course?”
"Yup" Mav replied, popping the "p" and placing his bottle down on the table with a soft clunk.
"Mav, this has to be wrong" Rooster said, leaning across the table as if reducing the distance between the two of them would help better his argument. "Surely this is a mistake. That shits rare. Like almost impossibly rare."
Maverick was fully grinning now, eyes dancing with amusement. "I know it sounds crazy. But you gotta see it to believe it, buddy- The kids good"
The younger man grunted in frustration, dragging his hands through his hair and tussling the dirty blonde locks so they stuck up at odd angles.
"When did she sign up? yesterday? Undergraduate pilot training is a twelve month course, Mav. Plus the six weeks A.M.S course at the training school. You gotta be eighteen to sign. The math isn't adding up here"
"She had an age waiver"
The younger man gaps, jaw hanging. "An age waiver?"
Mav presses his lips together in a tight smile, and raises his brows up at him sheepishly. "They're rare. But they do happen" he said, "she was seventeen during her recruitment"
"Who exactly allows a seventeen year old to join up?" He fumes, "and who in their right mind thinks an eighteen year old- most likely fresh outta school- is suitable for our course?"
Silence. Bashful silence, followed by Maverick trying to casually avoid eye contact with him.
No way.
"You?!?"
Maverick. The same maverick who pulled his own papers when he was eighteen because he believed he 'wasn't ready yet', had just handpicked a random eighteen year old to train at the TOPGUN facility?
Rooster couldn't help the spike of jealousy he felt in that moment, though he immediately felt guilty about it and did his best to squash it down. He didn't know the kid, he couldn't be angry that Mav had given them a head start in their career when his own was pushed back by the very same person. It had been done. And there was nothing more he could do about it.
Besides, he and Mav still hadn't long reconciled their relationship. He didn't want to resent him for anything else anymore. He needed him.
Maverick sighed, slugging the rest of his beer down.
"Bradley; She's. Good." He says when he finishes the bottle. "I was visiting one of those midshipman cruises over the summer- y'know just some simple, routine stuff- and I saw her in action. It was like she didn't even have to think about any of it, everything came naturally to her. she already knew the ins-and-outs, like she'd done it in her sleep" he emphasises, eyes widening and brows skyrocketing to his hairline, as if he still couldn't believe what he'd seen. "I had a little chat with her. She said she was thinking of applying to the academy after her summer cruise. 'Oh no' I said-" he taps the table with his palm "'you'd do great at the new training course we have'. I wasn't taking no for an answer, Brad. I had to have her here."
Bradley just blinked at him, before a harsh laugh bubbled up his throat and out his mouth.
"You've lost it, Mav" he says, "You're going senile in your old age" and then his eyes grew comically, sarcastically. "Maybe you need an updated medical check to see if you're still all there"
"Bradley, I'm serious!" Maverick half-yells, before lowering his voice when a few nearby locals turn to look their way. "She's got potential. And with the right training from the right instructor" at this he looked pointedly at the younger man, who- slightly touched by the compliment the man was giving him and his abilities as a fighter pilot- still scoffed and flickered his gaze away to look out the window. Now it was his turn to avoid eye contact. "she could become the one of the best pilots The Naval Air Force has seen in a long time"
After several long moments, which felt even longer due to the silence that lasted between them, Rooster glanced back at Mav. A man he had trusted so effortlessly in his youth- who he'd followed faithfully, no questions asked. A man he had slowly began to trust the same way again. Maybe, just maybe, he was on to something here.
Of course, he didn't like when the older man was right about something. And even more so when Mav knew that he was right. So instead he downed his own beer, and reluctantly said,
"When do I get to meet your little prodigy kid, then?"
"Tomorrow"
"Sounds great"
_________________________________
Tomorrow arrived far too soon for Roosters liking;
He woke at the crack of dawn, arriving at the base for just a little past six. He hadn't bothered with breakfast, and just about remembered to brush his teeth. He still felt slightly hungover from the night before, even though it hadn't been a particularly mad one. But before he'd stepped out the door, a nagging little voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Maverick reminded him that breakfast was the 'most important meal of the day'. So he grabbed a granola bar and quickly shoved it in his back pocket, impulsive thoughts sated.
On arrival, he was instantly met by Maverick, whose eyes twinkled playfully at him. Roosters own eyes narrowed in return, wary. "What?" He asked, moustache twitching as he frowned at him.
"Follow me"
The older man lead him to one of the hangers. The large open space echoed their footsteps, letting it known to anyone in earshot of their presence.
That's where Bradley spotted her;
A small little thing standing a short distance away, who didn't seem to grow any bigger the closer they approached. She was short, and her whole build was slight, though the small bit of muscle showing on her arms proved she was still athletically inclined for the job. Her hair was brown, tied up into a low bun on her head that had begun to fall out of place in little wisps as the morning dragged on. Her face was still smooth and rounded with youth, making Bradley's stomach clench uncomfortable with the notion of just how young she looked.
"You said eighteen right?" He whispered to Maverick, disbelief heavy in his voice. "Mav, That's a freakin' baby"
"How do you think you look to me, Brad?" Maverick said in return, "now, be nice" he whispered, levelling him with a small warning look.
The girl was slouching, looking incredibly relaxed, but upon hearing their footsteps, immediately stood to attention.
"At ease, Kiddo" Maverick said good-naturedly when the two men came to a stop in front of her. They watched her stiff frame loosen slightly, though her posture still remained formal out of respect to her superior.
"Captain Mitchell" she greeted, voice pitched, and oh my god Bradley thinks he's going to die because she even sounds so young. Her eyes are still trained on the horizon behind her, not daring to meet either of theirs, and Bradley finds his lips turning up out of their own free will. Maverick already told her to relax so what the hell was she still doing?
"Miss Dawson. Thank you for meeting me here" Maverick said in return, his own smile stretching across his face. He chuckled, amused by her. "You can look at me, y'know"
Bradley watched as her cheeks began to flush, before she blinked embarrassingly up at the older Man. Up, Bradley thinks, willing himself not to laugh. Now, that was a first. Maverick was in no way considered a very tall man, but even he was almost a head taller than this kid. "Sorry sir" she said, and Maverick was quick to reassure her.
"Bradley" Rooster starts when the man addresses him next. "I'd like you to meet Judy Dawson. Callsign: Dodger" Bradley doesn't miss the slight proud lilt in the mans voice as he introduces the girl- The prodigy.
"Dodger?" he quietly echoed, glancing swiftly at Mav, before pulling his attention back to the girl in front of him.
"Dodger, this here'll be your captain- Bradley Bradshaw, callsign: Rooster" This time, the pride in Mavericks voice shines through transparently, warming Bradley's insides a touch.
"Sir" the young girl greets, looking up at him for the first time since he stepped in the room. She nods her head respectively to him. He nods his own back at her.
Maverick stands to the side of the two and claps them both on the shoulder. His excitement would be almost infectious, if either of the two were paying him any attention at that moment. "I have errands to do this morning" he says, "And I'm already running late so I'll leave you two to get acquainted. Okay?"
Neither are looking at him, but despite that they both pitch their heads forward in a single nod of affirmation.
And then he was leaving them, and Bradley suddenly felt nervous under the young girls gaze. He was the only authoritative figure left in the room, and that thought alone scared him. He'd better get used to that soon, since he'd be teaching a whole group of pilots in a few days- the one standing in front of him included.
"I-uh, I look forward to learning from you, Captain" the girl says after a short bout of awkward silence. Hearing himself being addressed as 'Captain' still felt odd to him. "Captain Mitchell said you were good. Practically praised you every opportunity he got"
Rooster let out a small 'hm' sound. "He speaks quite fondly of you too" He says, squinting down at her, perplexed. "Sorry if I don't believe him yet. But you are quite the anomaly"
Her lips twitch, and she ducks her head to hide her growing smile. "That's a strange way to compliment someone, Sir" she says when she looks back up at him, face schooled once more.
Roosters torn, and doesn't know whether to laugh or scowl at the kids quick quip. 'A smart ass, great' he thinks.
"It wasn't really a compliment" he replied, seeming nonchalant. "Just that I've heard good things about you. I've yet to actually see it to make a proper judgment"
"Well, Sir" she says, grinning fully now. "I look forward to your full analysis"
This time, despite himself, he does smile- a very small one atleast, barely making his moustache twitch. And god, does it annoy him. But the kids funny, he'll give her that.
"Why Rooster?" She pipes up, changing the subject, and he's taken aback by the sudden, slightly personal question. He quirks a brow at her, and answers with a query of his own;
"Why Dodger?"
She looks up at him for a moment, before she shrugs. "Long story"
"Me too" he says, though he can't deny a small part of him remains curious as to why and how she got the callsign. Everyone has their own story, even him.
The kid just nods her head, scuffing her boots idly on the hard floor of the hangar. She's taken Mav's 'at ease' very comfortably now. "So...have you been a captain before? or-"
"This will be my first term" he says.
She smiles then, almost knowingly.
"With all due respect, Sir: It's showing" she says, and Bradley wants to punch himself (and her, if he was honest) in the face, because she's right. Nothing about him in this moment is confident or authoritative. Even looking down at his own posture makes him frown, disgruntled: He isn't holding himself like a Captain at all. He might need to shadow Maverick for the rest of the day, he thinks. Get a few pointers from the older man. Because even this kid, who he met not five minutes ago, is telling him that he royally stinks.
And despite Bradley not knowing whether or not he wants to like this kid yet, he at least appreciates her blunt honesty. He glances back to her, watching her as she watches him.
"Don't start a sentence with 'with all due respect, sir' just to throw shade at me" he says.
Dodger laughs at the older mans unexpected choice of words. It's a genuine laugh that surfaces from her throat and out her mouth before she can stop it, and if her Captain takes offence to it, it doesn't show on his face.
"You got some guts, Kid. Smart-mouthing and laughing at me?" he continues half-heartedly, "As your Captain, I can distribute push-ups at the drop of a hat. Shall I make you drop and do fifty now?"
Dodger stops her giggling immediately, but she can't seem to let the amused grin on her face slip. She can tell he isn't serious about his threat, and if he were, push-ups weren't the worst form of punishment in the world.
"'Throw Shade'" she mimics him, shaking her head. "How old are you?"
He frowns half-jokingly, the other half...actually insulted. "Thirty-eight"
She snorts. A small, tssk noise. "I've never heard a thirty-eight year old say shade before"
"And I've never heard of an eighteen-year-old pilot before" He says before he thinks to stop himself, and doesn't miss the questioning look she throws him "guess we've both seen something new today"
"So what if I'm eighteen?" She replies, her tone light, yet Bradley doesn't miss the defensive edge to it. She quirks a brow up at him, and watches as he shrugs in response.
"It's impressive is all I'm saying" and quite nearly impossible, but he knows that particular story will remain saved for another day. For now, he'll continue to wonder as to how good she was to be catching the eye of Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.
"Thank you, Sir" she says, and then, feeling brave "Maybe in a few years time I'll be taking your job"
"Fat chance" is his retort. "But I'd love to see you try"
He sticks his hand out, and she looks down at it for a moment before glancing back up at him. She smirks as she takes the offered hand, hers almost swamped by his larger one. They shake on it.
"Good to meet you, Dodger"
"You too, Captain Bradshaw"
And then he's dismissing her, listening as her shoes tap across the floor behind him; taking her leave.
"Oh! and Captain?" She calls, and he turns to her, expectantly. She holds up a familiar looking cereal bar in her hand, brandishing it at him. "Thanks for breakfast"
He blinks, hand quickly fumbling to his backside, patting down the trouser pocket where he'd stashed his granola bar earlier. It was empty.
"What the-! How did you?-"
But she was already gone, leaving him stood, dumbfounded in the empty hangar.
After a short pause, It hits him.
"Ah" he says out loud to himself, watching the doorway where the nimble-fingered girl exited, "I get it now;
The Artful Dodger"
Chapter 2: Kindergarten Cap’
Chapter Text
"Excited for you first day?"
That was the first thing Bradley was asked upon entering the office area that morning. By Maverick, of course. The man was sat at his desk in the large office space overlooking the bunkers. Each instructor was given their own desk space, his mysteriously parked right next to Mav's. 'What a crazy coincidence, Brad' the man had said. Crazy indeed.
"How are you always here before me?" Rooster asks instead, astounded. As of recent, the pair lived together, Mav kindly opening his home to him and appointing him one of the many spare rooms in the house. It only made sense to Rooster that they should head into work together but each time he woke, Mav was already gone.
Mav spared the younger man a glance, smirking, "You know me, Brad. I don't sleep"
Rooster rolls his eyes at the vague answer, muttering a quick 'vampire' before stalking further into the room.
"I asked if you were excited" Mav pipes up again, watching him from the corner of his eye as he walked closer.
Rooster dropped himself down into his seat, chair swinging to the side from the force. "You could say that" he replied nonchalantly.
Maverick looked up from a small stack of papers he'd been filing through, observing the other man, before letting out a small, contemplative 'hm' noise. "How did your meeting with Dodger go the other day?" He asked.
Rooster restrained from rolling his eyes again, "Fine"
"That it? Just fine?"
more passive paper skimming.
Bradley took a moment to think about his reply. He thought back to the kid; how she'd sassed him, laughed at him, and then stole his breakfast. All in the space of a few minutes too.
"The kids' a little shit, Mav" he swiftly concluded, to which Maverick smiled gleefully at.
"Ah!" He quips good-naturedly in return, chewing the end of his pen to quell his ever growing amusement. "So You've met your match then?"
Brad scoffed, crossing his arms, moustache twitching above his pursed lips, "No way I was like that at her age"
"No, you were probably worse" Maverick states honestly, before his voice grew quieter, "But I wouldn't exactly know, would I?"
Brad blinks across at him, floored into silence. He's right. He wouldn't know. Because by that point Bradley had attempted to cut all ties with the man- proving that, yes, he was in-fact a bit of a shit at eighteen years old.
"Well lookie here!" A familiar voice cut through the air, and Bradley internally sighed in defeat. He doesn't dare turn around to see who it is, he already knows from the sarcastic southern drawl alone. Instead he watches as Mav's face twitches up into a knowing smile, eyes flickering somewhere just past Bradley's left shoulder.
"it's the kindergarten teacher!" Jake "Hangman" Seresin- newly appointed TOPGUN instructor- greets in mock glee, walking past the man's desk to clap him soundly on the back.
"Go fuck yourself, Seresin"
"Hey" Maverick warns, though his eyes are still dancing with mirth, "watch your mouth"
Hangman doesn't even start at the sharp quip, in fact, it only eggs him on. "First day training up the newbies. You nervous Captain?" He asks, stoking the flames in Roosters metaphorical furnace, sitting himself down at his own desk. "I wouldn't be. It'll be piss-easy" his use of language earns him a small 'Jake' from Maverick. He briefly glances at the man, face slightly apologetic beneath his shit-eating grin.
"Hangman, would'ya lay off for two seconds?" A new voice chirps, and this time Rooster perks up at the sound, turning around in his chair to greet them.
Natasha "Pheonix" Trace, now also a fellow Captain, strides into the room. Her face is set into a reprimanding frown when she addresses Hangman, but softens into a smile when she catches Roosters eye. "Ignore him, Rooster" she reassures him, squeezing his shoulder before making her way to her desk space. "It's a great job to have"
"Thanks Phoe" Brad mutters, "but that's easy for you guys to say. You're not on babysitting duty for three years"
"Thank god for that" hangman clips, shuffling a few things about his desk to make room for his feet, which he swings up onto the table top with a loud clunk. "We're doing the real jobs over here"
"Hangman." Phoenix snaps, throwing a stray paperclip at him. Bradley watched, a small part of him deeply satisfied, as it bounced off his head. "Seriously? Fuck off, dude"
"Trace" Mav calls, though not looking up from his paperwork. "Language, please. I'm supposed to be setting a goddamn example here, guys"
Natasha smirks at his purposeful slip, always entertained by his 'dad jokes'. "Sorry, Mav" she said with a breathy laugh, before turning back to her downtrodden friend.
"Listen Roo" she said, the affectionate nickname tumbling from her mouth with ease, something that always seemed to happen when the man in question was in need of a good pep-talk. Which was more often than you'd think.
She reached across the gap between their desks and grabbed the handles of his chair, spinning him round to face her. He frowned at her, the classic Bradshaw pout making an appearance, but she elected to ignore it. "You're going to be a brilliant Captain to those rookies" she said earnestly, "I meant it. You're more than capable for this job"
"Yeah, that's the thing" Bradley muttered, eyes cast downward, briefly wandering to Maverick to check if he was paying attention. It appeared as if he wasn't, as he continued to have his head buried in his work, but everyone knew he was hanging off every word of the conversation. Paperwork be damned. "I think I'm too qualified. Why aren't I teaching on the same level as the rest of you?"
"Easy" Phoenix simply states, and Bradley spares her a bemused look. "People like Mav and Jake are best fitted to teach at the regular Topgun level 'cause they aren't concerned about who or where those pilots came from before- big, prestigious academies, or elsewhere"
Bradley listens to his friends speech with mild reluctance, his frown fizzling out into a semi-contemplative expression the more she spoke.
"Their job is about shaping those pilots into model versions of themselves- no offence, boys- which is exactly what that course expects from them. The very best" She said, sparing the other boys a glance, to which neither bit back at, because In a way the girl was paying them a compliment. They were the best, thank you very much.
"But this course is different" Phoenix continued, pulling herself back to the point she was trying to make after Bradleys frown made an appearance once more from the somewhat compliment she was giving to the other men, when she was supposed to be making him feel better. "It's about their individual potential- about training these pilots from the very beginning to be exceptional to their own standards- y'know, shaping a new future in aviation an' all that jazz. You've got the potential to prove to our higher-officers that not every pilot is built to be a Maverick- Again, no offence Mav"
"None taken, kid" was the quick reply. So he had been listening.
"But, why me?" he asks with a barely concealed groan. Phoenix throws him an annoyed look, her face saying 'you're still not getting it, are you?'
"Cause you're a team player, Brad. You care about every pilot, and what they bring to the squadron in their own way" then she cocks her head in thought, and smiles smally, "kinda always been like that"
"She's right, Bradshaw" Seresin said, chipping in his own two-pence on the situation. "Out of the three of us you're probably the best suited for the job. Any instructor has the brains to teach those students out there; But you got the heart for it."
Bradley's eyes widen comically at the man, brows stretching up to his hairline in disbelief. Hangman, giving him a compliment? A mushy, sentimental one at that? Christmas had come early.
"Wow" he says, still astonished. "thanks Hangman"
"You're welcome" The pilot says sincerely, before his face gives way to a mischievous look, "Now go get em, Kindergarten Cap!"
________________________________
Judy "Dodger" Dawson woke before the birdsong, her stomach already performing somersaults. This was it. Her first official day.
She was absolutely terrified. Excited, mind you, but nervous beyond belief. She was so high on nerves she couldn't stomach anything for breakfast that morning, even though the food they were serving in the canteen looked delicious- far better than the stuff they had back at her summer bootcamp, at least.
With an empty tray, save for a small cup of water that she sipped methodically (see: anxiously), Dodger sat at a lone table and simply watched the minutes tick by on the clock on the wall- Waiting for the exact time she'd be called to her first lesson of the day. Her first ever lesson at TopGun.
That time came sooner than expected. A woman's voice sounded over the tannoy, calling all students to their respective hangars. Dodger sprung to her feet, and was out the doors before the announcement had even finished, her room-temperature water forgotten.
She made it to the hangar just as more students began filing in, all a lot taller and seemingly older than her, and spotted several officials standing at the front of the large room. Rows of seats faced them, and one by one the students began to sit, nobody daring to say a word. Dodger found a chair of her own, and dutifully sat, before chancing a sneaky glance at the people next to her.
On her left sat a tall, broad man. His skin was a rich brown colour, and his tight-curled hair, even browner. He looked young, possibly early twenties, but Dodger couldn't be sure from just a single look. She thought he'd caught her looking, and quickly averted her gaze, swivelling her head to her right instead. There, sat another man, also fairly young- though, still a fair bit older than her. His skin was pale, with a mass of freckles across his cheeks, magnified by the pair of spectacles that sat on his nose. His hair was lighter than the other man's, somewhere between blonde and brown, and he most definitely caught her staring, because he turned to look down at her almost at the exact same time. Oops.
The man blinked, and almost did a slapstick double-take, brows climbing up into his fringe as he took her in. In an attempt to remove some awkwardness between them, Dodger opted for a weak smile, which he returned, though his was just as meek as hers, his face still riddled with confusion. They both whipped their heads back to the front when a fellow commanding officer cleared their throat;
"Attention on deck!"
All students rose from their seats with vigour, immediately standing to attention, before the same officer motioned wordlessly for them to be seated as a gentleman took to the stand.
"Good-morning, Aviators" He said from the podium, his curt voice buzzing through the microphone and echoing lightly round the hangar. "My name is Admiral Simpson" he declared, "And as Airboss; I will be your main CO overseeing this course- in short; you will be seeing a lot of me over the next three years"
Judy squinted quizzically at that, and couldn't help but feel that although his words were supposed to be reassuring, they sounded closer to a threat than anything else.
"First of all we'd like to personally thank you, as essentially you'll be doing us a great service too" the man went on, strong voice penetrating every corner of the room "you are our designated Guinea pigs for this brand new course."
Judy's eyes shot up into her hairline at the mans phrasing. Guinea pigs?
"If it is successful" Admiral Simpson continued, "it will pave the way for an entirely new future in aviation"
Rooster, who had been stood off to the side with several other instructors, lifted his lips into a small smirk at this. It was almost as if cyclone had heard Phoenix's speech to him earlier that morning. He wouldn't be all too surprised if he had, and took it as inspiration.
"You are all here for a reason" Simpson said, eyes scanning over the crowd, scrutinising every student. "Over the summer each of you we're hand picked and chosen by a trusted instructor from our facility- they deemed you capable enough to learn from us. Do not disservice them."
If Judy was unsure before, now she was certain- this guy was definitely threatening them.
"Soon you will be split up from the larger squadron you see here, and into your appointed squad. You will also be assigned to your Captain."
At this, Judy chanced a small glance at her Captain. He too caught her eye, and gave a disapproving frown before jutting his head in the general direction of the Admiral. Judy squirmed, embarrassed, understanding the silent command. 'Pay attention'
"These squads, as well as the Captain, will remain the same across the entire three years. so you'll have plenty of time to get used to eachother"
Judy felt the nervous-excited butterflies from earlier that morning resurface in her stomach. She felt her stomach swoop at the thought of meeting her squad- she hoped they liked her.
Admiral Simpson wrapped up his speech with, "Dismissed- please remain seated until your name is called out. Captains, if you would"
Rooster, as well as the other Captain's, took to the front of the room in an orderly line. They each began calling out names from the list they were given, students having to strain their ears to hear who called who.
"Grayson McKinney"
Dodger watched as a lean, pale-skinned man, who looked to be in his mid twenties rose from his seat and moved to stand before Captain Bradshaw.
"Tyrell Davis"
The man on her left exited his seat with a smirk, strutting over to the Captain with a little less hurry than the McKinney guy before him. Bradley watched him do so, scrutinising him carefully through furrowed brows, before his eyes flickered back to his list.
"Mackenzie Doyle"
This time a man, looking a few years older than the previous two, stood from his chair, walking dutifully over to the small group and giving the relaxed-giving Tyrell a pointed look. Tyrell just smirked again.
The next name had their Captain raising his brows slightly, surprise evident on his face.
"Nickolas Avalone"
A young Filipino man joined the ranks, looking incredibly cool and collected as he took his place within the steadily building group.
"Avalone?" She heard Captain Bradshaw ask, "as in Billy "fritz" Avalone?"
The man, Nickolas, gave a curt nod, "my older brother" he said, voice smooth and even.
Rooster seemed to nod respectfully at that, swiftly eyeing the younger aviator, "I worked with him" he said, "Good pilot. Let's hope it runs in the family"
"Yes, sir" was the reply.
The next name was called;
"Charlie Roe"
That was the guy on Judy's other side, the one who'd shared an awkward smile with her. She watched him take his leave, fingers itching, waiting for her own name to be called so she could finally get up out of the uncomfortable plastic chair that was digging it’s way into her spine.
She eagerly watched as her Captain skimmed the next name on his list, before glancing up into the slowly diminishing crowd of students, finding her instantly;
"Judy Dawson"
Finally, she thought, bounding out of her seat and over to the tired face of her Captain, and the openly confused ones of her fellow classmates behind him. She gave them all a polite, albeit awkward wave, and chanced a small smile up at her Captain too. Either he didn't notice, or he didn't react, for he went straight back to checking his list.
She didn't miss one aviator nudging the other however, and quietly asking "is she supposed to be with us?". The smile quickly dropped from her face.
Turns out Rooster heard them too, for he let out a long sigh, before leading the group out the room with a short, "follow me"
_________________________________
The small group was led out of the hangar, down several winding corridors- Captain Bradshaw taking up the lead, of course.
As they walked, Roosters squad chattered animatedly behind him, already coming to know each other in the first few minutes of meeting. Rooster knew the game, could tell what the majority of them were doing; testing the waters, sizing each other up.
The group had learnt each other's call signs pretty quickly- Tyrell was known as "Hound-dog", Grayson or 'Gray' went by "Checkers", Nick Avalone was "Rickroll", Mackenzie known as "Guild", and Charlie was "Twix" .
"Twix?" Hound-dog asked with a snort, turning his head to look at him. It proved tricky to do in a single file line, and even trickier for a broad shouldered man such as he to accomplish.
Charlie blushed, "A Twix chocolate bar melted in my pocket on my first day" he said, slightly bashful, fixing at the glasses on his nose. "They never let me live it down"
"Coulda' been a lot worse" Rooster heard Dodger pipe up, marching behind him in the line, and felt the grin in her words. He fought back his own smirk. She was right, there could've been a whole list of callsigns from an incident like that. None of them good either.
Apparently, her little voice chirping from the front was all it took for the previously withheld comments to come flooding in at once;
"Ah, the tag-along speaks!" One said.
"Yeah! Who's the kid, guys?" Another from further back.
"Captain, did someone lose a child on base?"
And then,
"Is she yours, Captain?"
Rooster ignored the jibes from the men of the group, remaining completely silent. He spared a glance at the kid trailing behind him, who appeared to be trying to tune them out too- though with much less visible restraint than he.
After turning the corner of one particularly long hallway, Rooster directed them into a large room, adorned with chairs attached to large screens that spanned a full 360 degrees around them. A simulation room.
"Everyone Line up" he commanded, watching wordlessly as his squad obeyed his order. Now this was a funny sight indeed.
All five men were of great physical stature and build- a requirement of the Naval Air Force- and each ranged around the six foot mark in height. The girl at the end of the line of course, was not. She stood closer to the 5 foot mark, making the stark contrast of height between her and them incredibly funny-looking. Like she'd been left in the dryer for too long, and had shrunk.
The others had noticed this too, for they kept chancing small glances at her, smirking as they did. Dodger pretended not to see them.
"Look to your left" Their Captain instructed, watching silently as they followed his whim and each turned their heads to the left. "Look to your right" he continued, to which they all complied, albeit with great confusion.
"The people you see here are your fellow squad mates" he began after a long pause, and started to pace back and forth in front of the line with slow, purposeful strides.
"For the next three years, they will be your allies, your friends- and your family" The last word cut through the air, ringing about the room for a few seconds after it was spoken, as if highlighting its own importance.
"you will treat them as such; no exceptions" Judy wasn't an idiot, and likely neither where her squad mates- They all understood the hidden meaning behind their Captains very pointed speech. The 'exception' was most likely her.
"In order to act like a team in the sky, you have to also act like a team on the ground" Rooster said, eyes flickering between each student, who now stared resolutely ahead- faces impassible.
"Sir?" A voice calls through the quiet, and Roosters eyes land on Tyrell, or Hound-dog, as was mentioned earlier. There's a barely perceivable condescending lilt in his voice when he speaks, and the corners of his mouth show the telltale signs of a ghostly smirk.
Great, Rooster mused, another cocky bastard who walked around like they were packing bigger than they were. Hangman would probably like the guy- Rooster however, was currently struggling to find a reason to. Hound pressed on, "I thought this course was to train us to be exceptional pilots, not to play happy families in our downtime?"
Rooster smiled falsely at the over-arrogant man, and stopped to stand right in front of him. What a dick.
"A pilot is nothing without his squadron. Happy families might just save your life one day" he counters, watching in satisfaction as the mans smug look fades into disgruntlement. 'Yeah', Rooster thinks, 'shut your dumb-ass up'
Rooster turns his attention back to the groups majority and claps his hands together, "Todays task:Flight simulation"
This gains a few elated looks from his students, all itching and eager to prove what they'd learnt from their first year of training before they were selected to attend here.
"I wanna’ see what skills you each have” he says, scanning their determined faces “do your own thing, whatever feels right. You can worry about strategies later”
"We’ll be dogfighting” this gains a few eye-brow raises, so he quickly rephrases his words before any of them can think of getting ahead of themselves. “Well, more specifically- I will be 'firing' at your 'aircraft' and you will see how long you can evade me before I tag you"
"What if you cant catch up to us, Sir?" This time it's Checkers who speaks, flagged by a small murmuring of agreement from Hound. Both smirk wickedly at him.
Maverick, or even Jake, would usually have quipped back with something smart. But Rooster wasn't like that. He wasn't here to show off, he was here to teach. So instead, he said;
"Find your seats”
_________________________________
The simulated dogfighting, although taking place on the ground in a dim-lit room rather than the sky, was no less exhilarating for the students. And stress inducing, for that matter.
Many of them were struggling to keep their cool, as they piloted their digitally replicated aircraft out of the radar of Roosters ever-encroaching jet, many teetering on the edge of their seats, faces leant towards their monitors in deep concentration.
Similar to real-life situation, the students were paired into two-ships (an aviator term used for two aircrafts operating together); Hound and checkers were one pair, Guild and Rickroll another, and Twix and Dodger were the third section.
It felt similar to a game of cat and mouse- Rooster being the enemy aircraft, or the 'Cat' in this case.
The section that consisted of Guild and Rickroll managed to evade him nicely for several minutes, before Rooster easily pinpointed and "killed” Guild first, leaving Rickroll without a wingman and therefore an easy next target. Both their screens flashed red whilst their seats buzzed with the force of their simulated jets "blowing up", before the power to their computers switched off and they were out for the count. Both let out a series of curses, slumping back into their seats in defeat.
Next was Hound and Checkers, who didn’t even bother to stick by each other, both breaking in separate directions- giving Rooster better access to their blindspots. “Leaving your wingman?” He tutted, before striking Checkers’ jet down- Hounds aircraft following less than sixty seconds after. “Bad move, boys”
They too had a lot of colourful words to say about their defeat.
"Break left, Twix" Dodger called from her seat, briefly eyeing the young man in the one adjacent to her, before resuming her concentration.
He ignored her, continuing to allow his aircraft to climb.
"Twix” she warned again, fingers twitching nervously on her joystick, “you should break left. Now"
"I know what I'm doing" was his snappy retort, as he levelled out his plane. A beeping immediately went off on his monitor, before the screen flashed red and his seat began to jolt with small shocks.
"That's a kill, Twix" Rooster spoke up in a teasing manner, jokingly reprimanding him, “should’a’ listened to your wingman, she'd already spotted me before I reached your blind spot"
He hammered his fist into the top of his thigh in frustration, “Son of a-"
"Coming to you next, Dodger" Rooster called over Twix's colourful language.
"Already aware, Sir” the girl said matter of factly, causing the man to wrinkle his eyebrows together, perplexed. "I'm the only one left"
And she was. Rooster hadn't even realised he'd caught every other aviator in the group already, too focused on the task at hand, as well as taking mental notes on each students individual skills of evasion to even care about keeping count of the numbers.
Well I'll be damned, he thought to himself.
For the next few minutes they grappled, wings rocking to and fro as they swerved around the simulated sky. Around each other for that matter. Dodger was holding up well, despite being a wingman down, and therefore having no other pair of eyes in the sky to inform her where the enemy was.
Pretty soon though, Rooster had his radar locked onto her too- ready to activate the kill.
What the-
Suddenly she was gone, parrying so quickly that Rooster momentarily lost sight of her aircraft.
Dodger heard several gasps from the other students, directly behind her, and startled slightly. She hadn't registered that the other five men had gotten out of their seats to stand behind her own- watching her chase with Rooster with slack jaws.
"How the fuck-" one started, surprised.
"Shh!" Another hissed, cutting them off as the room lapsed back into an intense quiet.
Rooster was also stunned, eyes stretched impossibly wide, blinking dumbly at his monitor. How the fuck indeed, was his own train of thought.
Rooster quickly recovered from his shock and veered back round, hitting the girl dead on this time, “That’s a kill”
The girl grunts, and slumps back in her seat, the tension leaving her in a flash. She’s happy though. “that was fun” she says, grinning madly despite having been caught.
Rooster found himself mentally agreeing. “Good work" was his simple, slightly stiff reply, however.
He doesn’t miss the way the girl practically preens at the compliment, eyes sparkling and grin stretching even wider. She tilts her head back behind her seat to spot her team, now retreating back to their own chairs- shoulders slouched, defeated.
"That was a slick move" Rickroll says, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Sneaky” Hound agrees, kicking himself for not thinking of a similar manoeuvre himself.
"Quick on her toes” another squadmate quips, “guess that's why they call her Dodger, huh?"
Chapter 3: The Runt of the Litter
Summary:
Chapter 3: Judy/Dodger isn’t adjusting well to her new squad, and a few Captains have noticed.
Notes:
Thank you for everyone who has been enjoying this story so far, I really appreciate all the comments and kudos I’ve received. And for those of you who left lovely comments asking for more Hangman content, I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Once again, my knowledge on aviation is very limited. So if I get anything wrong here that’ll be the reason.
Chapter Text
Captain Jake Seresin- better dubbed, 'Hangman'- traipsed languidly down the halls of the Topgun facility, heading back to his office to pack up for the day. He'd just dismissed the last class on his wednesday rota, and many other students had long departed to their respective quarters for the evening- so the corridors were blissfully empty. And therefore, quiet. Well, almost;
Thud.
Hangman paused in his step, shoe squeaking on the polished tiles of the second floor hallway, and frowned. He craned his head, ears angled down the corridor behind him. It sounded again;
Thud.
Slowly, Hangman backtracked a few paces, stopping just outside the door to the changing rooms- exactly where he heard the noise emitting from.
Thud. thud.
There it was again, louder this time. Interest very much peaked, Hangman carefully pushed open the door, entering the changing area with muffled steps.
He paused in the middle of the room, and waited again for the sound. It wasn't too long before he heard movement. A small grunting sounded- followed closely by more shuffling, and then a dull, metallic bang. A frustrated huffing noise could be heard too, joined by another clang.
Hangman raised a curious brow as he followed the odd noise, suspicion growing tenfold when it lead him over to a tall gym locker. He stood before it, simply staring, as its door shook with another thud. And then;
"C'mon you stupid thing, open"
It was muttered breathily, frustration mixed with a quiver of panic- the voice unmistakably feminine. Hangman's eyes widened, and he swiftly unlatched the door, pulling it open in one fell swoop- greeted instantly with the source of the mysterious sounds.
It was a young girl, wedged uncomfortably inside the narrow steel walls of the container. She'd let out a startled yelp when the door swing open, eyes snapping up to his in fright, before a heavy blush tinted her cheeks.
Jake blinked down at the sardined kid, the neurons in his brain cutting short and leaving him momentarily stumped. She blinked back at him, equally frozen in place.
Then, he felt the pull of a partly confused, partly amused smile at his lips, and found his voice;
"Well, What do we have here?" He drawled, a soft 'hm?' following his words as he eyed the flustered girl.
"Uh" she says dumbly, breathing out an awkward laugh of her own, "hello"
"Hello" he greets back, eyes twinkling mirthfully, his grin threatening to split his face. "Stuck?"
She tries to twist her shoulders, wincing in discomfort, before admitting defeat and slumping down like a puppet. "Yeah" she mumbled in a deflated voice.
"What-How did-" he begins, head shaking in wonder as he decides which itching question he wants to ask first. He finally settles on, "who are you?"
"Oh, right!" she says, "erm- Hey- I'm Judy Dawson-er-Dodger-whatever works best for you" the girl fumbles, and momentarily tries to wiggle her hand out of the position it's wedged into, before giving up with that too. She smiles sheepishly, "I'd shake your hand, but mines currently...y'know-"
"Stuck" they chorus- one coy, the other comical.
Hangman- having done well thus far in not being, well, himself- proudly keeps his composure for a few more seconds, staring down at the contorted kid. Then, he folds- cracking up loudly into the empty locker room.
The girls smile fades from her face faster than a blink, morphing very quickly into a frown, and then she's downright glaring at the man; helpless to do much but watch as he stands and laughs at her.
"Yeah yeah, laugh it up!" she grumbles after a few long seconds of the man's nerve-grating hoots.
She waits, watching as his laughter ebbs into low chuckles, teeth biting his lips in an effort to compose himself once more. "Sorry" he half apologises, "this is just too cute". He grins annoyingly down at her, and Judy wishes she still had use of her hands so she could smack the smile clean off his face. "Playin' hide and seek with the other kids, were we?" He continues to tease after his snickering dies away, sarcasm as thick as the texan accent.
The girl simulates a synthetic smile of her own; teeth clenched, and eyes squinted in false-amusement. "Y'know, I had a Ken-doll growing up that looked just like you" she snarks back in a sickly sweet voice, molars grinding across each other as she gnashes her words.
He's still smirking. "Jokes on you, kid" he scoffs, "Ken's a good-lookin' dude, so I take that as a compliment"
"Funny, though" she continues, feigning confusion, "he only looked like you after someone sat on him and caved his face in"
Hangman chewed on the inside of his mouth, half-annoyed at the kids smart mouth, and the other half...genuinely amused by it. He raised a brow at her, fingers itching at the locker door, "You want my help out of here, smartass?" He asks, cocking his head to the side, "Cause I can shut the door and leave"
He watches the girls eyes widen in panic. Bingo. There's a small silence that follows his words, and then;
"pleasehelpmeout"
It's muttered quickly in shame, head hung low, and Jake grins in triumph. You dont out-sass the hangman, kid.
He sets to work, grasping one shoulder gently and trying to coax it from its jammed spot. The girl hisses, biting down on her tongue till she tastes blood, but otherwise let's the man try to pop her arm free from place.
"Almost there" he grunts, tugging as much as he can without seriously harming the kid, though he winces apologetically when she mutters a breathy, "Ow-Owowowwww"
The first shoulder finally pops out of the tight place, and that's all hangman needs to pull the rest of her out. He grasps her hand, feels her dainty fingernails creating moon-crescent marks in his skin from the force needed to hold onto him- and gives a strong tug. With a few more thuds and 'ow's', the girl slips free from her metal prison, stumbling out of the locker with a "oof".
Her aching legs would have taken her to the floor if Hangman's hadn't have still been holding onto her. He moved his hand to her upper arm, keeping the girl on her feet whilst she managed to get some feeling back into her legs.
He waits like that for a few moments, before the girl breathes out a small "thank you", and balances nicely on her own once more. He nods, accepting her thanks, before another itching question tumbles out his mouth.
"How did you get in there?"
He watches the girl open her mouth to answer, before promptly closing it, and spots the internal debate taking place behind her eyes. She shrugs absently, "'dunno" she says, "'was playin' around- locked myself in by accident"
Hangman scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, and smirks down at her again- reading right through her lie. "I call bull on that" he says, before, "what happened?"
“You wanna know the truth?" She asks, to which he nods. She wracks her brain for a moment, eyes darting everywhere but his face. "It was...-a pair of stinky gym socks" she says after a long stretch of quiet, glancing back up to him, eyes alight with mirth as she watches his face. He's blinking down at her again, computing her story, before he snorts.
"Oh, really?" He mocks, deciding to humour her odd tale.
"Yeah, really." She counters, equally ironic. "They we're rancid. Like full on apocalyptic smelling shit. 'came to life and attacked me- no joke, forced me back into this locker" she recounts her story with gusto, rapping her knuckles on the metal container, and doesn't miss the way he rolls his eyes. "I had no choice but to lock myself in and save my nose from the smell before it melted off my face"
She sees his gaze flicker between herself and the locker, tongue probing the side of his cheek- eyes unreadable, but dancing with something she couldn't quite pin.
"That's the truth?" He asks.
"That's the truth" she echos.
Hm, Hangman thinks to himself, silently appraising the kid. Not a snitch- but clearly a god-awful liar if she had to come up with a story as stupid as that one to save face the real culprit of the crime.
Hangman gives the girl another pointed look, to which she smiles at- false again. He figures he isn't going to get much else out of her, and concedes.
"Well" he mock-sighs, tying up their conversation with the very same humour she played him with. "Better scram before those socks come back"
He sees her shoulders slacken, her body visibly unwinding at the knowledge that he wasn't going to continue to press her for the real account. Her wan smile ebbs into a more playful one. "You be careful too" she says, dusting her clothes down and making towards the door, "I heard they're partial to guys who look like ugly Ken-dolls"
Hangman starts at the girls cheek, eyes bugging, "Did you just call a commanding officer ugly?"
"You're a CO?!" She gaps, hand covering her mouth to stifle a shocked grin, "I thought you were a janitor"
"Excuse me-?!" he starts, but she swiftly cuts him off, clicking open the door to the changing room exit.
"-Thanks for the help, I really appreciated it"
"Hold on a sec-"
"See ya 'round, Janitor Ken"
"It's Hangman" he calls back, shout echoing about the empty locker room. But she was already gone, quick footsteps retreating down the empty hallway and out of earshot, and Hangman was alone once more.
"Wow." He says to the open room, staring dumbly at the empty space she had just vacated moments before, "No wonder someone shoved her in a locker"
He shakes his head, and closes the locker with one last metallic thud.
"Brat"
________________________________
Maverick quite enjoyed his Thursday mornings, mainly due to the fact that he hadn't any lessons to teach until later in the day, so he was able to relax before his afternoon classes. However, his schedule on this particular Thursday had taken a sudden U-turn- much to his transparent disappointment.
Cyclone had took it upon himself to schedule a rogue one-to-one meeting, something he did every so often to "keep everyone on their toes" - and this time his victim had been Rooster. Thus, at precisely seven o'clock on the dot, Maverick had received a very panicked phone call from his pseudo-son, begging him to cover his morning lesson at eight.
He'd conceded, of course- mentally kicking himself for being such a pushover.
Which lead him to now; perched at the front of a small seminar room, a large screen located behind him, and several students sat before him- quietly listening as he taught the fundamentals of 'instrument flying'.
The faces staring up at him were unfamiliar, bar one of course, who sat in the front row of desks, eyes twinkling as they watched him with rapt attention. Far more attentive than the rest of the students, at least, who looked as though they were still trying to wake themselves up. He'd flashed a friendly smile at Dodger when he'd spotted her, who'd grinned back at him, before delving into the subject.
"There are three fundamental skills when it comes to instrument flying" he says, clicking the remote in his hand to activate the presentation board behind him. He turns back to his audience, and asks "can anyone tell me what the are known as?"
An eager hand immediately shot into the air, its owner belonging to Dodger. He pointed to the brown-haired girl, giving her permission to speak;
"Cross-check, interpretation and aircraft control" she answered, in the correct order too, making the corner of Mav's mouth quirk up minutely- a prideful glint in his eyes.
"Correct!" He calls, before moving to the PowerPoint slide that demonstrated said skills, "nicely remembered, Dodge"
The girl can't help the toothy smile in reply, shoulders scrunching up humbly and a blush tinting her cheeks at his praise.
The next several slides went by with little issue, students jotting down important notes in their books, a few raising their hands to ask if he could repeat a certain sentence they missed. Dodger was scribbling avidly in her own notebook, writing as fast as she could to retain all the information being presented to her- and everytime she glanced back up to her teacher, her face would be glowing with the unwavering desire to learn. It made Mav fight his own blush at her obvious admiration for him.
He turns back to the board, using his free hand to point at several different diagrams shown, labelling each individual section of the image and prattling off their meanings as if it were second nature to him- which it was.
He hears a few pens scratching away as he speaks, and the unmistakable telling a of hushed whispering- followed by several poorly contained snickers, all loud enough for him to hear. Mav internally scoffs at the students bad attempt at conversing without his knowledge; they'd have to be quieter than that to fly under his radar.
"Pitch control!" he begins loudly, and whips round to faces the class again, smirking at the irony of his words, and the shell shocked looks he receives from the small gaggle of aviators, "can anyone explain to me what pitch control is?" He looks about the room, searching for a raised hand. There are none.
His eyes fall to back Judy, who's staring down at her open book this time, pen poised a few centimetres above it- several pieces of crumpled paper sit at her shoes which she pretends not to see. He frowns.
"Dodger?" he decides to call on the girl, watching as her head darts up to look at him, "any idea?"
He sees the girl glance around her, then to the board, before taking a breath. "Pitch control deals with controlling the rotation of the aircraft on the lateral axis, done so by the movement of the elevators" she says instinctively, as though she'd been secretly itching to speak. This caused Mavericks eyes to twitch down at her in question. Her answer was spot on; why hadn't she put her hand up?
"Exactly" is what he replies with, and then, "a very good answer- everyone write that down"
The aviators comply, though some with transparent reluctance, huffing slightly at the prospect of writing more. Mav ignores this, and grins at the girl. He leans towards her desk, speaking directly to her, "If you know the answer, Dodge, put your hand up"
"Yes, sir" Is her meek response, face a little less radiant than before, before she begins with her note-making. "Nice work, though" he praises once more, watching as she folds in on herself, the action confusing him all the more. He decides not to press on it, and resumes with delivering his presentation.
"Is there anything she doesn't know?" A voice mumbles from the back, Mavericks acutely tuned ears picking the words up easily. It's the reply that has his blood freezing in his veins, tongue stuttering on its last word;
"when to stop showing off, apparently"
He recovers before anyone can catch his momentary falter, and resumes with the lesson, though he clutches the board remote in his hand tighter, barely flinching when he hears the plastic device begin to crack under the abuse.
The next question he asks the students is how to identify a failed instrument in your aircraft. Dodgers hand climbs into the air, slow and unsure, but still willing to try at an answer. Maverick smiles despite himself, pleased she had taken up his previous advice.
He points to her, "Dodge?"
She's still unsure when she speaks, and rightly so, as her answer isn't exactly the one he was looking for. "Hm, Not quite" he says, lips pressing into an apologetic grimace. He glances to the other aviators, "anyone else wanna try a guess?"
"Psh" A new voice scoffs, followed by a low, aimed, "Dumbass"
Mavericks eyes instantly dart round the room to find the culprit of the whisper, landing on a young man in the second row. The badge on his uniform reads; "checkers".
"Checkers" he addresses him, voice light and easy, a harsh contrast to his slaty gaze. "do you know the answer?"
Turns out the man did. His answer is practically perfect, much to the Captains chagrin. "Correct" Mav states, hardly a compliment, gut spiking irritably when the man gives a boastful smirk anyway. Another gentleman behind him, his tag reading "Hound-Dog", thumps him on the shoulder in praise, no doubt stoking his ego. Mav had to give it to Rooster for not breaking his cool yet, his squad was full of assholes, "moving onto the next step, we have-"
The lesson carried on in similar manner, though Dodgers hand stayed resolute by her side, not daring to raise itself into the air for the remaining half-hour. The whispering continued too, Mav only managing to catch a few snippets of them- little jibes of "Teachers pet" and, "she's exactly the same with Captain Bradshaw". Each time Mav turned back round, more balls of paper had collected by the girls desk area- leading him to believe that they had in fact been tossed there. Whoever it had been, whether one person or more, had a half decent aim; Some sat atop her table this time, but most crowded at her toes. She was still pretending she couldn't see them, so Mav did the same.
Soon, the clock on the wall reached nine-thirty, and he was dismissing the class with a reminder of, "Captain Rooster will be waiting outside hangar three at ten o'clock for a standard routine exercise session" a few students groaned at this as they began packing up their belongings, causing Mav to smirk, "you're gonna love it" he jibes sarcastically to them.
He watched as the little crowd of students filtered out the room, the small, brown haired girl holding up the rear- her desk area now barren of paper balls, bar one he noticed, that had been missed during her clean-up. He scooped it up as he passed, smoothed the crumpled piece out in his hands and set his jaw. He quickly called out to her before she could leave, ordering her to remain. Dodger paused in the doorway at the command, feet shuffling with the urge to leave- yet she dutifully stays. Mav put on his best smile, and beckoned her over with a finger, watching, relieved, as she complied.
"Is everything alright, Captain Mitchell?" She asks, stopping in front of him, before squaring her shoulders and adopting her best "soldier pose".
"How've you been finding things at Topgun?" Is his question, taking the girl completely off-guard. Her brows raise higher on her forehead in surprise, before her face shifts into a beam of delight. "Great" she chirps honestly, "I really love it here" by her look alone, he can tell that's the truth. Good, he thinks.
"And what about Rooster?" He prys with a little smile of his own, "Is he a good Captain?"
"Yeah. He's alright" is her rather blunt answer, and Mav's smile drops slightly, puzzled. She catches this, and dips her gaze shyly, "I mean; I'd prefer if you were teaching me, Sir"
Ah, Mav muses knowingly, chest warming despite feeling a little guilty for his godson. He gives her a mock-reprimanding face, "I chose Bradley to be your Captain for a reason, Judy. Have a little faith in me, okay?"
She looks back up at him, eyes shining with unwavering trust, so much that Mav feels slightly undeserving of it. "Yes, sir"
"And trust the process" he continues fondly, tapping her on the shoulder "He takes a while to get used to"
The kid spares him a look that reads 'Ain't that the truth', which makes him chuckle, before a crack of guilt pinches at his chest at the knowledge that he was about to divert their subject to a more pressing matter; "How are you settling in with the rest of your squad?"
Just as he anticipated, her easy-going look fades again, and that same anxiety he saw when she first approached him bleeds back into her eyes. "Yeah" she manages squeakily, before clearing her throat "They're fine too"
Mav's lips form a tight line, brows huddling together above his worrisome green eyes. "Judy" He starts, lowly, "I don't want to pry-"
"But you will anyway" is her dull retort, cutting through his words and taking the man by surprise- but he opts to ignore her cheek, in fact, he takes it as invitation to be a little more forward with her. "Are they giving you a hard time?"
"What makes you think that?" Is her countered question, which annoys the man just a bit. The more he met with his chosen "prodigy" girl, the more he learned about her; like how she liked to pick and choose her moments to be insufferably stubborn. Boy, did that remind him of another pilot when they were her age, and younger. Hint: it's Rooster.
Instead of giving a verbal answer so she could tennis a quick jibe back to him, he holds the previously crumpled paper up to her face. On it, was an image; More specifically, a photograph that had been printed out. Judy felt her heart sink, dropping into her stomach like lead and making her feel hot and cold, sick with nerves and morbidly embarrassed all at once.
The photo was of her, crammed inside a locker, looking up at the camera with miserable eyes.
"This does" he says, his eyes just as miserable.
"Oh, that" she says after a beat, waving her hand dismissively, but her eyes betray her as they shine with grief- though he only catches a small snippet of them before they're averting away from him to look about the room. "That's just how they are with me. You know, boys" she stutters out a (pretty lame) tale, barely giving herself time to breathe as she prattles on, "well I guess you do know-ha- cause you're a boy yourself- I mean, man. Guy"
She catches his eye, and winces at the look he gives her. He doesn't look convinced at all.
"But, yeah-they're cool" she harps stupidly, knowing very well her story was doing a poor job at appeasing the Captain, "It's not what you think. They're just messing around- I'm fine"
Mav quirks a brow at her, "Truly?"
"No lies; Scouts honour"
She mimes crossing her heart- on the wrong side, Mav notes. He's still frowning at her, faced marred with worry, and she deflates with a tired sigh.
"Sir, you don't have to worry, they do this all the time" she explains, a tint of exasperation entering her voice, "Its kinda like big brothers teasing their little sisters- I mean I wouldn't exactly know what that's like, I was an only child. But I think it'd be pretty similar, right?"
Wrong, Mav thinks. This wasn't brotherly teasing, this was closer to outright bullying than anything else. But rather than voice that particular opinion, he instead chose to say; "Well, if they keep on like that and you don't like it, you tell Rooster. And if Roosters not around, you tell me"
"Will do" she concedes, but the older man had an itching feeling that she would do no such thing. They stare at each other for a long moment, the clock overhead ticking a tireless beat into the dragging silence.
"Okay, kid" he finally relents with a small voice, "you're dismissed"
________________________________
Roosters exercise that same morning was no walk in the park for Judy and her fellow squad members.
As soon as they arrived outside hangar three, they were steered towards a small pile of old flight gear, and told to quickly put them on. They did so without question, though several confused looks were passed between the group as they shuffled into the weighty equipment. They weren't scheduled to fly today.
Rooster beckoned them back over once they were finished dressing, where they huddled together in a small crowd, padded backs and torsos bumping each other as they strained above the outside noise to listen in on their Captain.
"This mornings exercise will teach you to adjust to the feeling of your flight gear" Rooster begins, head swivelling back and forth between every squad member as he spoke. "There may be incidents in your future where you will be forced to eject from your aircraft into the back end of nowhere, and it is here that your stamina will be truly tested"
Several heads nodded along to his words, trying to soak up his teaching and make sense of where exactly he was going with it, and how exactly them wearing their flight gear connected with their morning exercise.
"If you find yourselves stranded in the middle of a large plain- be that a field or desert; you will be directly exposed to the enemy" he says, voice sharp and serious, sunglasses glinting in the bright, morning sun. "In which case, you will need to run like you life depends on it. You're flight gear will feel like you're shouldering an extra persons weight. It will hold you back in your running and reduce your speed time- do not let yourself be captured because of your inability to run with gear on"
As Rooster continues to explain the rundown of their exercise, Judy feels something from behind tug at the straps on her suit. She whips her head round and spots a few of the boys grinning down at her, hands held innocently aloft for her viewing. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at them, and opens her mouth to-
"Dodger!" Her Captain barks, "eyes forward”
She jolts on the spot, spinning back round with such speed that her neck makes a loud, popping noise. "Sorry, sir!"
He brushes her apology off with a brisk nod, before delving back into his speech, "For this exercise, you will be running up that taxiway-" he points to said stretch of runway, which appears a lot longer and far more foreboding when looking at if from the ground rather than in a F-18. "You will complete fifteen trips up and down the runway, and I will be counting, for those of you who are thinking of pulling a sly one on me"
The group of aviators set off at the blow of a whistle, legs peddling across the runway with heavy strides- their gait a lot slower than usual. Dodger, much to her displeasure, falls behind the boys fairly quickly, straining against the weight of her gear and puffing with an exhaustion that was already settling into her bones. She eventually reaches the end of the taxiway for the first time, and feels like collapsing as the prospect of completing the strip another fifteen times. She wipes perspiration from the brow, and chances a glance up from the asphalt. The rest of her team are already halfway back towards Captain Rooster, seemingly tackling the challenge a lot easier than herself. She scowls, head shaking in disbelief. This gear was heavy as fuck, how we're they running so easily?
True as his word, Rooster keeps a constant surveillance on each squad member as they complete their run, and too notices his littlest member very quickly falling behind the others. He watches as she makes the run back to him, her strides significantly muted, legs wobbling ferociously with the effort of carrying her top-heavy body. This causes the man to frown, 'stache giving its signature twitch, perplexed by her actions. Her gear wouldn't be that heavy, surely.
Rooster narrows his eyes, zoning in on her equipment, and spots something peeking out from her sides. He freezes, jaw locking in irritation.
"Stop" is his clipped order when she reaches him, "turn around"
The girl does so, slowly, and with a very puzzled look.
Rooster pats the bulging sides of her gear down, immediately feeling several small bumps in her zipper linings. He pulls them free from the hiding places they were shoved into, and grits his teeth angrily, before forcibly turning the girl back around to face him. He brandishes an entire handful of small, heavily weighted bags, that would usually be found inside the stitching of a pilots g-suit to counterbalance their weight during a flight.
"Any idea how these got in here?" He asks, and watches as her face deflates, eyes downcast.
"No" he hears her mumble.
"Be honest"
"I don't know, Sir" was her reply, a little louder this time.
Don't play stupid with me, kid. "Which one of them was it?"
The girls head snaps up to him, fear striking across her face like she'd been slapped. She shakes her head in false bemusement, brows drawn together in a frown, "I really don't know what you're talking about, Captain Bradsh-"
"Dawson" he cuts in, voice stern. "Don't lie to your commanding officer"
"I really don't know who it was!" She confesses, voice climbing an octave in earnest, nibbling on her lip till the skin started peeling from it.
Bradley sighs, his own lips pressed tightly together, "You're telling the truth?" He asks.
"Would I lie to you?" She bats back.
Probably, He thinks, another exasperated sigh being drawn from his body at the girls quip.
"Listen" he says tiredly, dragging a hand over his eyes in frustration. "They pull something like this again, and as your Captain I'll be forced to take measures into my own hands"
He sees the fear on her face begin to climb, head shaking minutely at him- Her eyes Begging.
"Do you realise what could've happened if they'd pulled this shit on a flight day?" He half-exclaims, waving the weighted bags in front of her face for emphasis, and tries to ignore the way the girl flinches back slightly from them. "Distributing your weight like that in an airborne aircraft pulling extreme G's can be very dangerous"
The girl pales at this, mouth parted and eyes wide at the gravity of his words.
"Please don't say anything, Captain Bradshaw" she pleads, eyes flitting behind them to the rest of her group, who are still running up the taxiway, "It was just a joke-"
"Hm, sure” he agrees sarcastically. "'Pick on the little one' sounds like a really fun game to me"
"-I'm not little" is the huffy retort.
"Keep telling yourself that" he deadpans, before pocketing the weights and tapping her on the back. "Now scat, You're falling behind"
"Gee" she mocks in a small, grumbly voice so he can't hear, beginning to adjust the straps on her flight gear, and noticing how she felt much, much lighter. Those bastards. "I wonder why"
Unlucky for her, he did hear her, "When you're done with your lap you can drop and do forty push-ups"
"For what?!" She exclaims.
"For giving cheek to a CO" He replies, folding his arms across his chest.
"Look" she begins, exasperatedly, still struggling with her straps. After watching her helpless attempt for another beat, Bradley wordlessly bats her hands away, and begins fixing them himself. She lets him, cheeks heating up, feeling very much like a kid watching a parent tie their shoelaces for them. "I apologise for what I said to Captain Seresin, but I didn't realise he was a commanding officer and-"
"No-i meant-" Rooster cuts in, and then stops, staring at her over his round tinted sunglasses, "What did you say to Hangman?"
"Nothing bad" she says idly, before squinting at him in suspicion, "why? you gonna make me do fifty push ups instead?"
"Actually, I was gonna drop it down to thirty" he says, moustache twitching in what could be considered genuine amusement, before finishing up with her gear-straps. He straightens up again, squaring his jaw and jutting his chin back towards the long stretch of taxiway before them. "Move it, Dodger" he commands stiffly, "You're wasting lap time"
She's grinning ear-to-ear when she takes off running, tinkering laughter echoing up the runway.
Rooster watches her go for a few seconds, before his- almost wistful- eyes harden. He averts his eyes to the rest of his squad, scrutinising each of them very carefully. None meet his gaze, feigning obliviousness as they too finish off their own laps- an act that grinds Roosters nerves.
True to his word, He wouldn't interfere;
For now.
________________________________
Rooster managed to last a good few hours, before breaking his promise.
It was the evening, around six, and the sun was slowly starting to set in the gradually cooling September air. Rooster was sitting on top of a lone work-desk in hangar nine- a large warehouse that held a few grounded F-18’s. He was overlooking his students, who were completing their last field-session of the day before evening meal-time. Their task- cleaning and attending to an aircraft.
“A pilot can’t really be called a pilot without a plane” he’d explained to them during their debrief, “And every respectable pilot takes time out of their schedule to care for their plane”
He’d gestured to the two F-18s stirring patiently behind them, wings glinting in the orange sunlight streaming in from the open hangar doors. Beside them, was a whole array of tools- sponges, water buckets, hoses, wax tubs and cloths, and many other instruments that some of them didn’t even recognise.
“Look after your F-18 on the ground; and it’ll look after you in the sky”
A few students had grumbled at this, one brave (see: stupid) enough to question their Captain with, “Don’t they have maintenance people to do this for us?”
Rooster had given the student, Rickroll, a hard look as he turned to him. “If you don’t know your own aircraft back to front and inside out blindfolded- then you’re as good as dead when you take off in it”
Another student, Hound, scoffed and raised a hand to ask a mocking question of, “Are we going to be blindfolded for this task, Sir?”
Rooster grinned, “Thats next week, Hound” he retorts, matching the younger man’s sarcastic energy. He sees Hound scowl in his periphery as he turns back to his group and orders them to begin with their task.
He’d been watching them work in silence for the past forty-five minutes, the only peeps coming out of them being an exhausted huff or a surprised yelp from Twix when he managed to get soap in his eye cleaning down the canopy.
He was vaguely aware of approaching footsteps, before he felt two body weights perch either side of the desk he was sitting on. He didn’t need to look to tell who they were.
“Evenin’, Rooster” the individual on his left greeted, southern twang hitting every syllable. Rooster nodded in greeting, not taking his eyes off his squad-students, “Hangman”
“We need to have a little talk, Bradley” Mav’s voice trickled in on the right, shoulder brushing against his as he set his voice low, clearly not wanting anyone to overhear them. This had Bradley turning to look at him, his questioning gaze turning alarmed at the somewhat grave look in the man’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, voice cautious, whipping his head back and forth between the two other Captains. Hangman’s face is no better, sporting a serious look for a usually carefree pilot. Roosters unease tenfolds.
“We didn’t really know how to confront you about this, but-“ Mav starts, before Hangman cuts in. “-We believe that the kid-whatshername-Is being treated like shit by-“
“Jake” Mav hisses, glaring over at his colleague warningly, before clearing his throat and trying again, “We believe Judy is having a bit of a tough time settling in with the rest of your squad”
Roosters heart jumps a beat, his stomach twisted and stricken with dread. “What else has happened?”
“Else?!” Hangman exclaims, quickly shushed by the other two Captains. He lowers his voice, opting to whisper-shout instead. “You’ve known about this?” He bristles.
Rooster in turn doesn’t even bother awarding him with an answer, too focused on the idea that something similar to what he witnessed earlier that day with Dodger had, in fact, happened before. He quietly snaps “Tell me, Hangman”
And they do. And it’s awful. Rooster can barely listen to the retelling of events of Hangman finding his youngest mentee shoved tightly into a dusty old locker, struggling to pull herself free. It only worsens when Mav recounts his own story of the covered morning lesson, which had been filled with students tossing crumpled up photos of said locker-incident to the back of the kids head.
By the end of it Rooster is seething, eyes blazing behind his sunglasses, and fingers twitching in his lap.
“We we’re debating taking matter into our own hands, but Mav pointed that you’re her Captain- so it’s your job” Hangman concludes, eyes flitting over to the group. They fall on the girl, scrubbing away at the underside of a plane wing, and his chest squeezes painfully for her.
“She’s your primary concern is what I meant” Mav chimes in, sending a look of warning to the blonde aviator, “So of course, we needed to let you know.”
Hangman turns back to his workmate, his sad look turning sour as he gauges Roosters face- which is remarkably unreadable, despite his internal rage. “Though clearly it seems you’re not going to do anything, Mr. “I already knew””
"I am going to do something” he snaps back at him, his voice trembling slightly with the slowly building anger he was trying to hold in, remaining as composed as possible. “I've just been waiting for the right moment"
Hangman scoffs, “And when is that?"
A sharp shriek cuts through their squabbling, and three heads simultaneously snap to attention. The frightful noise pulls their sharp eyes back to the students, where Dodger stands, huddled in on herself, shaking and gasping- soaked to the bone. Hound, a few paces to her right, is holding a large- now empty- bucket, feigning innocence as he tries to hold in his laughter.
"Right now, apparently" Rooster says, standing up from his seat. Mav and Hangman watch, perplexed, as he crosses the bunker, face fixed and eyes hard beneath his tinted sunglasses. Without looking, he grabs the nearest object- a long, red cylinder canister.
“Sorry” Hound calls to the girl, laughing fully now, tossing his bucket to the floor with a clatter as more squad members began to laugh. “Didn’t see you there”
Dodger was still spluttering on water, rubbing soapy suds from her eyes, and listening to the echoing laughs of her squad mates when it all happened;
A sharp exclamation, drowned out by the sound of pressured gas being released from a can and several loud gasps.
Judy's eyes flash open at the sound. She blinked up through the water-droplets clinging to her lashes, only to spot Hound covered head to toe in foam- helplessly fighting the onslaught of a fire extinguisher that had appeared out of nowhere. Well, not entirely nowhere.
Her Captain had hold of the other end, firing foam over the top the young man's head as he cowered away.
"Not so nice when the tables are turned, Is it soldier?” He says, emphasising his words with one last puff of the canister. It's Hound-dog's turn to sputter and cough, wiping foam from his face before snapping his wild eyes up at Rooster. It looks as though he's about retaliate, but falters under the stony look his Captain gives him, fingers twitching on the handle of the fire extinguisher- almost threatening.
"No, sir" is the clipped reply, frown mottling his face, eyes swivelling about in embarrassment. "It isn't"
"'Course it isn't" Rooster agrees, feigning friendliness, before stepping closer, "So if you- or anyone else in this squad- pull a trick like that again?" Hound catches a glimpse of the man's eyes over the top of his glasses, squinted and dark to the point of almost being entirely black in colour. He feels his mouth chalk-up at the mans next words, "A bit of foam will be the least of your worries. Are we understood?"
Hound-dog, unable to form a single syllable, nods stupidly under the heated eyes of his Captain.
"Get yourself cleaned up and back here in five" Rooster snaps, watching Hound-dog flee to the nearest changing rooms, foam footprints trailing in his wake. He sets his hard gaze on the rest of the group, who are all stock still, eyes wide and apprehensive in the face of their Captain.
"Anyone else?" He asks the room, instantly receiving a small chorus of "no, sir".
"Good" he says, before biting out in his best 'commanding officer' voice, "Back to work"
His order is met with haste- students scrambling back to polishing canopies and massaging soapy sponges over the sides of the aircraft.
Roosters eyes find Judy's, still sopping wet, but holding her head slightly higher. He tips his head to the door, silently signalling to her that she can go clean up if she needs to. The girls shakes her head at the offer though, and picks up her sponge again, happy to carry on with her work. She'd clean up when she was finished. Just before he turns away he sees her mouth a small 'thank you' at him, lips turned up into a grateful, albeit shy smile as she wrings water out of her hair. He nods at her in return, face still impassive, before swinging the empty fire extinguisher over his shoulder and walking back to his post- Hangman and Maverick watch him, both trying very hard to smother their grins.
"I can't believe you just did that, Brad" Mav mutters in disbelief, debating whether to be pleased or not. He personally thought his kid handled the situation beautifully, but his methods of doing so weren't going to be favoured by the higher-ups if they caught wind of the situation.
"Me either" Hangman agrees, before leaning in closer to Rooster, "That was fucking brilliant" he whispers ecstatically, thumping the man on the arm.
Rooster just shrugs, getting comfortable in his seat once more, proceeding to watch his group with careful eyes, "I don't think they'll be bothering her anytime soon" He says. He hopes.
"No shit” Hangman scoffs, "but if they do, I got a spare blow-torch you can borrow"
"Don't encourage him, Jake"
Chapter 4: Double The Trouble
Notes:
Hello! Sorry for the longer wait for this chapter! I found myself struggling with writers block a bit trying to write this one out. It’s not perfect and there’s parts of it I don’t like, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
Chapter Text
Maverick had been in the middle of filing through a mountainous pile of paperwork, itching to finish it off before the weekend, when a young male official had popped his head into the office space, asking for him to make his way to Admiral Simpsons office immediately.
Phoenix, the only other person currently in their cubby-area, glanced up from her own work at the request, the two of them exchanging twin looks of confusion.
"Uh, sure" Mav said after a moment, storing the bulging folder away in a drawer and standing from his seat. "What's going on, Mav?" Pheonix whispers to him as he passes by her desk, receiving and equally hushed 'no idea' from the man.
"Have I done something wrong?" He asked the young lieutenant, as he followed him out the door and down the hall. It wouldn't surprise him, knowing the very love-hate relationship he had with Cyclone.
"Not you, Sir" was the reply, making Mavericks stomach swoop anxiously. Not him? Then who?
When he reached Cyclones officer, He was rewarded with an answer;
Stood outside the door, with their backs pressed taught against the wall and their shoulders squared- was not one familiar face, but two. Rooster and Dodger stared dead ahead at the opposing wall, neither daring to meet Mavericks eye when they caught him entering their peripheral gaze. Dodger had the decency to look slightly nervous, whilst Rooster just seemed mildly annoyed more than anything.
Maverick was gaping like a fish.
"What did you do?!" He hissed at the two of them when he eventually found his voice, brows raised high on his forehead.
The office door swung open at the very same moment he spoke, and Admiral Simpson joined the group. "They destroyed Topgun property" was his quick retort, before urging everyone inside with a sharp jab of his thumb.
The Four individuals crowded into the room, Cyclone taking a seat at his desk, leaving Mav, Bradley, and Judy to stand awkwardly on the other side. Well, at least Judy felt awkward. And sick to her stomach.
Maverick was the first to speak, mind still reeling at the situation he'd been unceremoniously dropped into just moments before. "Did you say 'destroyed property'?" He asks incredulously, glancing beside him to his pseudo-son, and said son's student. Dodger was looking up at Rooster, worrying her lip with her teeth, her whole frame buzzing with nervous adrenaline. But Rooster hadn't any eye for her, and instead was flickering his steely gaze between the Admiral and Mav.
"That's right" was the clipped reply from Cyclone, looking the younger Captain dead in the eye, who stared unflinchingly back. "Would you care to recount the events to the room, Captain?"
Rooster remained quiet. His silence begins to worry the girl, who he can practically feel vibrating beside him with nervous energy. From the corner of his eye he watches her chance a brave glance to Mav, instantly withering under the disappointed look he fixes her- fixes them both, for that matter. Rooster had enough of that look during his childhood to gain a somewhat-resistance to it. Stress on the somewhat.
"No?" Cyclone mock-asks, his stern eyes making Judy feel like an insect under a magnifying glass, "Shall I, then?"
Why not, Brad muses, we all know you love the sound of your own voice. Instead of speaking his thoughts however, Rooster clenches his jaw tightly, and nods jerkily.
"Fine" the Admiral huffs, sweeping his eyes from the two culprits and over to the awaiting Mav. "I'll start from the beginning-"
________________________________
Rooster was walking the outskirts of the main taxiway in the warm Friday afternoon sun, making a trip back to his office whilst enjoying the last warm dregs of the summer sunlight before winter began to take over. He'd just passed by Hanger five when he spotted a familiar face outside the doors of the Fourth labelled garage. Bernie "Hondo" Coleman, a dear friend of Mavericks (and now the rest of the dagger squad too) was surveying maintenance over two F-22's that sit docile outside the partly closed hangar doors. They seem to spot each other at the exact same moment, and both waved to each other.
"Afternoon, Rooster" Hondo greets when the Captain draws closer, slipping the pen he was holding behind his ear, and tucking the clipboard in his other hand up into his armpit. He holds said hand out to the younger man, who eagerly takes it, and they pull each other into a one-armed hug, clapping each other on the back with their free arm.
"Good to see you, Hondo" Rooster chirps back warmly when they part from the hug, before looking over to the '22's, entranced by the way their canopies glistened in the partly setting sun, creating shimmers of dancing light across the tarmac floor beneath their wheels. Together, the two men quietly observe the crew of men as they work on the two aircraft's, weaving in and out of eachother with a rhythm only achieved by working so closely together for a long period of time.
"You here to collect something, Roo?" Hondo asks from beside him, aimlessly flipping through his clipboard sheets. He wears a slight, knowing smirk, making Rooster frown.
"No." He blankly states, blinking dumbly at him. "Why would-?"
"Hey Rooster!" A sudden call cuts across his question, and his head snaps back to the crew. The worker who spoke appears from round the side of the first jet, grabbing a cloth to run over his heavily grease-smudged palms. Rooster identifies the middle-aged man in an instant- Chuck. "Looking for one of your Ducklings?" He asks, a toying smile lighting up his face.
Rooster blanches, and spy's Hondo's shoulders shake with small ripples of silent laughter from the corner of his eye. "Sorry?" He asks him, now very evidently confused. Duckling? What-?
Chucks grin broadens, and several other maintenance men begin to chuckle or shake their heads in amusement. "Your little squad member" He explains, before jabbing a mucky thumb over his shoulder. "She's over here"
Rooster followed the invisible line of the pointed finger with narrowed eyes. A small head peaked out from behind the plane, followed by the rest of them, till Rooster was faced with a very familiar looking kid. Lo and behold, Judy "Dodger" Dawson stares back at him with large, twinkling eyes, a pair of needle pliers clutched tightly between her grubby little fingers.
She looks exactly how he left her not a few hours ago, when he'd dismissed his students after a gruelling debrief. Well, almost exactly; Her outfit had gained a baseball cap, which did well to shield her eyes from the glaring sun. Though, that was more because it hung over her eyes- a little too big to be her own, leading him to believe a worker had lent it to her. Or that she'd stolen it (was his secondary thought), recalling the incident with the Granola bar. After she'd looted his breakfast, Rooster had near-starved for the rest of the day- so he felt justified in still being sour over it. However childish that may be.
"Hey Captain" she says when she sees him, flashing a toothy grin, the small, black oil-smudge on her cheek scrunching up as she did so. "Did you need something from me?"
"No, I was just-" He goes to say, before pausing, glancing down at the pliers in her hands. He frowns. "What are you doing?" He asks instead, "Classes are finished- students are free to go back to their quarters"
"Yeah, I know" she states with a shrug, twirling the tool back and forth in her hand, making Rooster nervous she was gonna take an eye out with it- Namely his. "I was actually heading to Mavericks office" she continues, her words making his frown deepen in thought at the mention of his father-figure, "but I spotted the guys doing some work on these F-22's and wanted to watch"
Rooster looks pointedly at her dirty hands, still twiddling with the pliers, and cocks a brow at her, "Watch?"
His question makes her blush, shoulders scrunching bashfully as she too chances a glance at her oil-stained fingers. She scuffs her shoe against the floor, and adjusts the slipping cap on her head. "They saw me looking so I asked if they needed some help" she shrugs again, "and they did"
Rooster seems doubtful about that.
"Kid" he starts with a sigh, "I don't really think-"
"She's a good worker" Hondo pipes up, not watching them but clearly listening. He's stood at the nose of the plane, scribbling ferociously on his clipboard as he speaks. "Her little hands can fit into all the places ours can't"
The girl beams at the praise, flashing the dainty, grimy hands and waving them in a jazz motion. A passing worker, Briggsy, smirks and tweaks her cap fondly. Rooster hears the kid huff out a laugh, batting a hand aimlessly at the retreating man.
Hondo looks up, and catches Bradley's gaze. "Let her stay, Rooster" he says, giving the girl a wink. She winks back and Rooster suppresses an eye-roll. How come this kid was such a charmer with everyone else?
"Yeah Cap', lemme stay" she says, and Rooster frowns at the informality. Classes dismissed or not, they were still on base- she should address him with a bit more respect than a simple "Cap". "You said we should always be learning new things about aviation, so" she continues, gesturing around them at the bustling workers, "here I am"
"You're not fooling us, kid" Chuck harps from the wing of the adjacent jet sat a few yards away from theirs, "you've done stuff like this before"
"Not on a '22" she calls back with a grin, "But I used to watch my Dad fix up planes when I was a kid and -" she falters on her words, catches Roosters eye, and drops her head, rubbing a hand across the brim of her hat awkwardly. "-Guess I payed attention" she finished lamely.
She spins back round, intent on heading back to work, which was passing the needed tools up to a gentleman straddling the back end of the plane- fixing up a VHF antenna.
“Why were you going to see Mav?" Rooster diverted, following after her and quietly observing as she selected the next tool the worker would need.
"We always talk on Fridays" she said, softly tossing a sealed ratchet to the worker above, who called out a quick 'thanks kid', "He lets me sit in your office chair" she adds, throwing him a smug look.
"Ah" Rooster says, folding his arms across his chest and staring down at her as she shifted through the trolley full of tools. "So that's why I cant find my rubber band ball"
"I put it back" she quips softly in defence.
"Hm" he hums disbelievingly, and holds a hand out to block her fingers from grabbing at a small open end spanner, wordlessly handing her the correct size she'd need instead. He spots her rolling her eyes and feels his moustache twitch just a bit.
"Kid!" Chuck, sat up by the canopy of the opposite plane calls down to them, and both her and Rooster start at the shout. "Up top a sec. I need ur tiny hands"
"My tiny hands are on their way" Dodger shouts back, before budging past Rooster with a "scuse me, Cap" to which he scowls at. "Captain Bradshaw is my full title, Miss Dawson" he calls after her, and watches as she pretends to not hear him.
With a shake of his head, Rooster swings round to the other side of the jet, and climbs up the wide, empty wing still bathed in the warm sunlight- away from the maintenance taking place on the left side of the aircraft, and also in perfect line of sight of his student, who was balancing on the wing of the opposite jet- making her way to Chuck with hurried steps. He kept a close watch on her for a few moments, watching Chuck reach a hand out to her and tug her the rest of the way up the jet, till both were perched on the metal just behind the canopy, before laying down fully and resting his head against the warm metal wing beneath him.
He sighs blissfully at the welcoming heat that bore down on him, soaking the warmth up like a sponge. He allowed his eyes to close behind his tinted glasses, still keeping a sharp ear on his surroundings, listening out for any signs of trouble- more specifically, for the sounds of his young mentee, who he could currently hear giggling away at a story Chuck was telling her.
"Sleepin' on the Job, Roos?" He hears from beneath him, and lets loose a breathy laugh at Hondo's words. He needn't open his eyes and look down over the side of the wing to know the man was smiling up at him, he could hear it in his voice when he spoke.
"Quietly observing" he corrects his friend, tucking his arms behind his head and using them as a pillow.
"Impressive" Hondo chimes back from below, and he hears the tell-take scratch of a pen on his clipboard. "I didn't realise someone could observe with their eyes closed"
Rooster chuckles fully at this, and says "Different kind of observation, Hondo. I'm Keeping an ear out for my duckling"
He hears the man scoff, and no doubt knows he's shaking his head at him. "You're just using her as an excuse to sunbathe" He says with a laugh, boots clunking as he passes under the wing, ticking off his checklist as he went.
"What my student doesn't know won't hurt her" is the reply, making Hondo laugh outright this time.
"Nice try with the whole duckling thing, by the way" Hondo hears the young Captain call out after a few moments of quiet from him, voice dry and humourless, "but Ducks and Roosters aren't the same thing- so the joke doesn’t work”
Hondo rolls his eyes, glances up at the reclined man, and let's out an exasperated breath at the kids cluelessness. "shoulda called him 'Bat' instead-" he mutters to no one in particular, smirking despite himself, "-fuckin' blind as one"
Rooster hears the man's comment, and frowns to himself- perplexed by his words. He props himself up on one arm, ready to ask what he meant by that, but Hondo is no longer there. With a small huff, Rooster shakes his head, and settles back into position, the soft tickles of sunlight on his cheeks quickly pulling him back into a light doze.
"Are we boring you, Captain?" A young voice seeps into his consciousness several minutes later, startling him out from his half-sleep state. His body jerks at the sudden, unwelcome noise, and cracks an eye open to spot Dodger now back over on this jet, smirking down at him.
He quickly recovers, and smirks back, "You? always"
He sees her smug look twist into a small grimace at his teasing, which only makes him grin wider, "Don't worry, Dawson" He says, relaxing back into his seat, eyes closed once again, "I've still got my other senses honed onto you"
"That's not creepy at all" she mutters as she tip-toes away, feet so light on top of the aircraft that Rooster barely hears the metal creak beneath her weight. In less than a few minutes, Roosters back to lightly dozing.
"Kid!" Another voice filters into his subconscious, catching his attention once more. "Reckon you can squeeze under the cockpit and pull the wiring through to me?"
He hears Dodgers reply, eager to help, before he feels her light footsteps once again, vibrating through the metal beneath him as she clambered around the top- heading back his way.
Suddenly, a well-aimed boot stamps into his stomach, as the girl steps on him rather than over him. "Oof" he puffs out, groaning in pain and clutching his middle, before snapping his eyes open to glare up at the kid.
"You're 'other senses' are a little off today, Sir" she states, chewing the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, before clambering up to the cockpit of the plane, narrowly dodging one of her captains arms when it swiped at her foot.
Rooster watched as her head disappeared into the foothold area, her feet swinging up into the air to rest on the chair neck so she was fully suspended upside down in the seat. He fought to suppress a smile- it was a very comical sight indeed.
"Alright" he heard her muffled voice call from the cockpit, "I'm gonna feed the wire through now, you ready?"
A call of affirmation sounded from below them, before the girl set to work. In turn, Rooster pretended to continue in his self-assigned "task" of blissfully soaking up the sun- though he couldn't help but watch the girl from out the corner of his eye, keeping tabs on her as she completed her own task. He saw said girls feet wriggling back and forth as she strenuously pushed the wires down through the dash to the worker below- huffing and puffing as she struggled through the job.
"Almost there" he heard her grunt, before she gave a cheerful 'a-ha!' as the wire finally gave way and slipped through. "You got it?" She called down to the worker, who shouted back that he could see it, and it was now well within his reach. Rooster heard the man thank her, a sarcastic "How can we ever repay you?" filtering up to them. She replied with an equally smug "You could put in a good word in with my Captain", a smile evident in her tone, "maybe then he'll actually like me"
"I wouldn't get your hopes up, kid" Rooster cut in, listening as the workers below began to laugh, "Your Captain doesn't like know-it-all Brats"
"Har-har" She says dryly, before trying to wriggle her way out from the underside of the cockpit, banging her head several times in the process and letting loose and few 'ow's.
"Cap" he hears her call, and rolls his eyes again at the informality. "My belts caught on the stick" she huffs, one ankle kicking out in her frustration. "can you come help me?"
He pretends to ponder her words for a moment.
"Nope" He eventually says, popping the 'p' for good measure, "I'm busy". He hears her mutter a few strained curses, and something along the lines of 'such a fucking asshole' following after, before continuing to struggle out of her up-turned position. He closed his eyes again, letting out a purposefully loud sigh of contentment.
He barely had time to relax, before Rooster suddenly felt transit. Like the aircraft under his back was slowly pulling away. Like he was...moving.
In fact, that's exactly what it felt like.
In a flash, Roosters eyes were wide open, and he was sitting himself up on his elbows to look around. Their Jet was moving, inching forward very slowly mind you, but moving nonetheless- and gaining speed by the seconds.
"What the fuck?!" Hondo cried from the ground, as he and several workers began scurrying out the way of the rolling aircraft.
"What's happening?" One worker cried, whilst others were quickly scrambling from both planes, trying to manually stall the moving vehicle.
"Shit!" Rooster hears the panicked curse emitting from the cockpit, spying the kid as she clambers into an upright position- the plane swinging to the right as she does, and rolling towards the other dormant Jet. Below them, workers scuttle from out the way of its path.
Rooster stumbles over to her, legs wobbling on the moving surface beneath him.
"Er- I can fix it!" She cries hurriedly when she sees him, and tugs her belt free from the centre stick- which is no longer straight, but titled- the cause of the now moving aircraft, which was less than seconds away from impacting into the other plane.
Rooster notices this, and grunts “No time", before reaching down into the cockpit and grabbing the kid by her arms- roughly dragging her out of her seat. Dodger lets out a startled cry at the action, and stumbles on her exit, shins hitting the bottom half of the canopy, the pain momentarily winding her. Rooster doesn't bother to wait for the girl to gain her bearings- snatching her about the waist, and hauling both their asses off the Jet.
They hit the asphalt, hard, knees scraping against the tarmac floor- just as the rolling aircraft jams its nose into the side of the other plane, a long, whining screech of metal singing into the air upon impact.
Dodger quickly clamps her hands over her ears at the long, grating sound- wincing at both the noise and the damage the F-22's now sustained. The plane had finally rolled to a stop, its momentum cushioned by the other jet during their 'bump' into each other. She chances a glance at Rooster, spying his face, finding that it bore the same panicked expression as hers.
Hondo is between them in a second, a hand on each of their shoulder- asking if they were okay. Rooster and Dodger both nod, before their eyes find each other, gazes wild as they breathe long gasps of air through their nose, trying to calm their wildly beating hearts;
"You good?" Rooster asks too when he finds his breath, voice fast and nervous, "you alright?"
"Yeah-“ is her equally quick reply, "yeah- I'm fine. Are you?"
He nods half-distracted, as his eyes search her form despite her reassurances, checking for any possible injuries. He's satisfied when he finds none, gaze snapping back up to her face- shock morphing into a far more severe look. His brows are furrowed, his 'Captain-face' back in place. He opens his mouth to speak, and Judy winces again in anticipation of the drilling she was no doubt about to receive from him- but another voice beats him to it.
"What the hell is going on in here?!" Is the shout that echoes from behind them, and Judy's stomach clenches painfully at the familiar, commanding voice.
Rooster, Judy, Hondo and the workers alike, all spin round at the sound- a sea of alarmed faces confronted by the singular, stormy gaze of Admiral Cyclone. The air in Judy's lungs is stolen from her when those piercing eyes fall on her, before sweeping to judge her Captain beside her with equal ferocity.
"You two" he says, voice low and dangerous, jabbing a finger at them both.
"My office, now"
—————————————————————
"There" Simpson says as he finishes his recount of the story, watching Mav's face carefully, which had slowly morphed into a look of pure horror as the moments pressed on. “Are we all in agreeance that my story is accurate?”
Dodgers head might as-well have been on the floor from how low it hung off her neck in shame, shoulders heavy with the metaphorical guilt she felt weighing down on them. It was her fault. She’d been the reason for the planes damage- both planes, in fact. She nods, before remembering herself, and giving a verbal answer too. “Yes, sir” is the little squeak of a noise that leaves her mouth, “that’s correct”
“I’m really shocked Dodger” Mav says at last, tone sad- making the girl squirm at the evident disappointment in his voice. “I did not expect something like this from you”
Judy grimaced, feeling a sharp stab in her chest at the man’s words.
“Frankly, Im not surprised at all” Cyclone pipes up, brows drawn into a deep frown, making Judy want to disappear from the room entirely. He rounds on Mavericks, “I warned you Mav” he says, voice dripping with his own disappointment, but this time it was levelled towards the older man, “This base is no place for a girl barely out of high school”
Mav blinks at the sudden onslaught against him, genuinely dumbstruck. He starts, “Sir-“
But Cyclone is already turning on Judy, blazing .“Did you think it'd be funny to wreck a million dollar plane? Thought it would get a laugh out of your peers?” He asks all at once, watching Dodgers mouth open and close like a fish out of water. His tone turns dark, “Because I can assure you now that no one is laughing, miss Dawson"
"Sir, I didn't-"
"That's enough, Sir-"
"It was an accident!”
The buzz of talk falls away at Roosters sudden outburst, the first time he’d spoken since entering the room. Three heads turn to look at him, each just as surprised as he was.
"Maybe so" Cyclone says, the first to recover, “but whatever it was, it was on account of your inability to keep a student of yours in check" he frowns fiercely, shaking his head and pointing a harsh finger towards where Judy stood, "That girl could've hurt someone"
She could've hurt herself, too. Mav thinks, but holds himself back in favour of watching his son handle the situation.
"That girl was simply trying to help” is what Rooster snaps back, though his voice is a lot more measured than cyclones. “That girl was lending a hand to a few workers on her afternoon off” he explains evenly, but his frustration climbs when the Admiral silently scoffs, “I don't see any other students doing what that girl did”
"Maybe because other students know where they're not needed" Cyclone barks, gaze snapping back to Judy, his words making her stomach twist uncomfortably and the very back of her eyes sting. “she should stop lending a hand if she's just going to mess it up"
Rooster spots the girl deflate with every word the Admiral spoke, which troubles him for reasons beyond his own understanding. He clears his throat, takes a minute step closer to her, and directs his next words back to his Boss, “Sir” he speaks through a tightly clenched jaw, “I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak so ill of my students"
Cyclone breaks away from the girl, stony eyes flicking back up to Rooster, who stares back unflinchingly. The man scowls- “Keep them in line, Bradshaw" he says, “and maybe I won't"
Rooster makes to take a step towards the man, but a hand on Roosters shoulder stops him, and Maverick hisses a low “That’s enough, Bradley”
The young Captain straightens himself out once more, and takes a deep, mollifying breath. “Is that all, Sir?" he asks, teeth still grinding together behind his tightly lipped mouth.
Cyclone stares long and hard at him for a moment, before leaning across the table at him. He didn’t miss the way Dodger backed up smally, nor the hand of her Captain that came up to rest on her back, halting her from taking another retreating step.
“I will find a suitable punishment for your students actions today” he says eventually, “till then, yes: you are dismissed, Captain Bradshaw"
Rooster nods once, tight but respectful, before finally looking down at his student.
"Come along, Dodger" he mumbles.
"Yes, Sir" is the equally quiet reply, and Rooster doesn’t miss her sudden formality.
He steers her out the room, not needing to look back to know Maverick was following closely behind him.
Chapter 5: Hero Hangman And The Safe-House
Summary:
In Hangman, we trust
Slight warning for this chapter; contains excessive drinking and mentions of attempted assault.
Notes:
Hey there! I finished this chapter way quicker than I thought, so I’ve decided to post it! As you can tell from the title, this chapter features a lot of Hangman. I Hope you enjoy!
And if no one has said it to you yet, happy Valentine’s Day!
Chapter Text
It was Saturday evening when Judy found herself unable to fall asleep, tossing and turning in her bed in her dormroom. Her bunk-mate, an older girl from a different squad, who went by the callsign “Mace”, was out tonight- no doubt hitting the bars with the rest of her team. Judy of course, was only eighteen, so she couldn’t attend. Not that her own squad would think to invite her anyway.
After another half-hour of shuffling about under the duvet trying to find a comfortable spot, but ultimately failing to fall asleep, the young girl decided to put some gym clothes on, slip into her trainers- and go for a run. Hopefully a good few laps up the nearby beach would tire her out enough that when she returned she’d practically collapse into bed.
The beach was empty, the sun having long set below the horizon hours ago, so she was the only person on it. And a few seagulls, if you could count them. It was quiet too, the only audible sounds being the soft waves that lapped against the shore, the smalls puffs of her own breath in the air, and the distant music coming from the beach bar further up the strip. She clocked the sign when she ran by: The Hard Deck.
After her third jog up the stretch of the beach, Dodger began to tire, shoes slipping against the soft sand beneath her feet and slowing her pace considerably. She rolled to a stop just outside the back door of the bar, and sat down on the steps, placing her head between her knees to try and catch her breath.
Suddenly, the bar door swung open, and would’ve hit her had she not jumped out the way in time. Dodger stumbled, backing up into the wall as two men in Navy uniform staggered down the steps, arms slung around each others shoulders- giggling away like schoolgirls.
“Bro!” one said to the other, his loud voice echoing into the stillness of the night. “I swear to you, no- I pinky promise- an’ you can’t break a pinky promise dude, y’know how that shit goes”
“Bullshit” the other friend laughs, equally loud, swinging a spirit bottle between his fingers. “There’s no way you met Elvis Presley at K-mart”
The first man scoffs, “on my life, dude. It was him”
Dodger listens to their banter for a few more moments, shaking her head in amusement. She dusts the sand from her leggings, and readies herself to take off into a jog again when they start singing “suspicious minds” really loudly.
Her plan is foiled, however, when one of the drunken men spot her, and immediately stops singing, nudging his friend, who finally notices her standing there too.
Their boyish smiles drop from their faces, sobering at the sight of her. Dodger politely waves at them, and leans down to fix her lace. When she straightens back up the first man has moved closer, staring down at her. She jumps a foot in the air, her startled gasp breaking the silence.
“You lost, sweetheart?" He asks, leaning up against the wall to block her exit, whilst the other leers closer on her other side.
"No" she manages to stutter out, voice seemingly stolen by her shock.
“Nathan, look” the second man slurs, pointing to the Topgun logo on her sweater. “Navy girl”
"Ah” the first gasps, and grins, “She’s one of us”
Something stirs uneasy in Dodgers stomach from the way the two men are staring down at her, trapping her in from both angles. A chill sweeps through her, that has nothing to do with the night-time air.
“Why are you out here on your own?" The same man- Nathan, she assumes- asks, gesturing to the dark, empty beach around them.
"I went for a run" she says carefully, eyes flickering between the two of them "I'm going back to my bunk now" she says after overcoming her shock, voice firm- leaving absolutely no room for argument.
"That's funny” Nathan chuckles, supporting his hand on the wall to stop himself from falling over. He leans even closer, voice whispering and breath reeking something awful, “So are we"
Something in Dodgers chest seizes, stealing her next words straight from her mouth. She stutters noiselessly again, lips quivering.
“We could escort you back?" He cuts in before she can speak, reaching out to twirl a piece of her chestnut hair between his fingers. "Stay a little while, even."
"Yeah" his friend agrees, "got a nice bottle of jack daniels here we can all share together." He raises the bottle in his hand, pressing it close to the girls face so she can smell its contents. "Whaddaya say?"
Dodgers eyes flicker back and forth between the man and the bottle he was trying to shove against her lips.
"No- no, thank you" is what she says, pushing the spirit away and forcing her feet to move, attempting to walk away from the two gentlemen. "I'm just gonna head back on my own"
A hand clasps around her wrist and spins her around, before another pair of hands are at her shoulders, pushing her back into the wall. Disorientated, Dodges back hits the bricks with a dull thud, knocking the air right out of her lungs so she couldn’t even gasp in pain.
"I wouldn't if I were you" Nathan says, voice taunting, “lot of scary people out at this time". He chances a glance around them, as if checking for those metaphorical ‘scary people’. Too bad for Judy that they were already here, standing in front of her.
“Yeah” the one with the bottle agrees, “jus’ waitin’ for sweet little girls like you to walk home on their own" he takes a swig, some of the liquid missing his mouth and trickling down his chin. Judy grimaces.
"I'll be fine" she argues, and tries to push off the wall, whimpering when the man’s nails dig painfully into her upper arms to hold her in place. "let me go" she gasps.
"Aw, angel. don't be like that" Nathan coos, pressing himself closer into her personal space, so his breath fans across her face. “we're tryna help you"
"Funny, it doesn't look that way to me"
Everyone freezes at the new voice, all three members turning to spot the hidden fourth.
Captain Jake Seresin stands a few paces away from them, arms crossed carefully over his front, peering down at the situation with a pair of hard-set eyes.
"Evenin' boys" he says cooly, not giving anything away in his voice, though it’s apparent to anyone with eyes that the Captain was raging. He peers round them to catch a look at Dodger, who's staring up at him like he was an angel sent to her from the gods themselves. Her face, in all its 'saviour-complex' glory, did wonders for his inner pride. "Hey, Miss Dawson" he addressed her too, his southern Texas drawl single-handedly being one of the best sounds Judy had heard in all her life.
"Hey" was the faint, shaky reply from the girl, still holding her breath. She managed a small smile at him, though her entire demeanour was still riddled with anxiety.
Jake kept his eyes on her as he stalked forward, strides slow and purposeful, before his gaze shifted to the two men.
He spoke his next words very slow, and very carefully, “If I were you, I'd remove your hands from her now"
The first man, Nathan, blanches. He drops Judy’s arms immediately, whirling round to fully face the commanding officer. “Sir, we were just-"
"Just what?” Jake barks at him, stepping into his space the same way that he’d done to Judy. “Scaring a girl half to death? Trying to take her back to her place to get her drunk?” He spits out the last word, causing the other man to flinch back. “And then what?"
The two Topgun students wither under the Captains gaze, and even Judy suppresses the urge to duck her head in fright at Hangman’s fury.
"Are you aware that she's only eighteen?" He yells at them, “That she's hasnt even reached the legal drinking age yet?"
From the looks on their faces, the answer is no: they weren’t aware. The other man, not-Nathan, fumbles with his words. “Sir- sir we’re so sorry- it- it’ll never happen a-“
“Again?” Hangman finishes, glaring darkly at the two of them, the terrifying look on his face enhanced by the limited light around them. “Damn straight it won’t”
The two gents felt the threat of his words, sobering up completely. They glance to each other, a silent conversation taking place between their eyes, before jumping when Hangman spoke again-
“Get the hell outta my sight” he snaps, “now”
He and Judy watch silently as they flee, running down the beach, feet slipping in the sand and sending them drunkenly sprawling a few times.
The quiet they left in their wake was almost unbearable, and Judy looked anywhere else but at Hangman when she muttered out a small ‘thanks’. She sees him nod, still staring out at the beach, watching two drunken figures disappear into the distance. A meek question being asked snaps him from his daze-
"How much of that did you hear?"
He glances down at her, catches the way she wraps her arms round herself, her knees shaking furiously. “Enough, kiddo" is the low reply.
She nods, cheeks warming in embarrassment, though she has no idea why. It wasn’t her fault two guys tried to jump her outside a bar. If anything, they should be the ones feeling embarrassed. But still, she felt it all the same- and it made her throat close up, and the corners of her eyes sting with the threat to cry.
They just stand there like that for a few moments, neither knowing what to say or do.
“We should go” Hangman says after a while, beckoning her closer with a twitch of his hand. She does as she’s told, shuffling after him.
"Are you going to walk me back?" She questions curiously, shoes still stumbling in the sand.
"No" he says bluntly, shocking her. He looks down at her, and offers a small smile, “I'm gonna to do one better"
She sees him hesitate, before looping a comforting arm around her shoulder and steering her around the side of the bar.
"Cmon. My trucks this way"
"Yes, sir"
"You don't have to sir me when I'm off duty"
"Right. Sorry, sir"
"Hah, I like you kid"
He guides her over to his truck, opens the passenger door for her and offers a hand to help her climb up when he notices her poor legs still wobbling.
The car sets off, heading in the opposite direction of the base. Dodger notices this, and frowns, glancing across to Hangman.
"Where are we going?" She asks, and tries her best not to sound apprehensive. This was Captain Hangman- she was safe with him.
"I don't want you staying at your place tonight” He reply’s softly, though his gaze is still hard, and Dodger doesn’t miss the way his hands white knuckle the steering wheel, “Just incase those guys had any second thoughts of meeting you there" he explains, before realising what he said. He immediately tries to reassure her, “I mean, I doubt it, but-"
"I understand” She whispers, and tries her best to reassure him too, “you did scare them pretty good"
He hums, gripping the wheel tighter, if possible. “Ill be scaring them tomorrow too when I invite them to my office for a nice little chat"
She manages a laugh, soft and breathy, but the the polite noise sounds shaky as her whole body still rattles with anxious adrenaline. The car lapses into a short silence, as they drive further away from the bar.
"Um. Mr hangman?"
"Wow” he says, “You're killing me tonight with all these misters and sirs- what happened to Janitor Ken, hey?" He jokes, glancing across to her, smirk fading slightly when he sees that her knees are still shaking, despite the girl having clamped her hands over them to try and ebb the tremors. “what's up?" He asks, his tone serious once more.
"You didn't answer my question” she says, awkwardly, “I still don't know where we're going"
He smiles at this, an honest one. “Safe house, kid" he says, “Safest place I know"
He sees her frown, watery eyes clouding over with confusion.
“What safe house?"
________________________________
Mavericks house.
Captain seresin was taking her to Mavericks house for the night. Which she wanted to be opposed to out of embarrassment, but a deeper part of her yearned for a familiar face. His face, mainly. Mav was warm, friendly, inviting; The very pinnacle of the word safe. And it seemed Hangman agreed.
The Topgun instructor helped her step out from the vehicle, and kept a steady hand hovering over her shoulder (but not quite touching) as he led her up the steps to his old Captain/ "squad-fathers" home- an endearing nickname, coined by himself and the other dagger members, which had stuck over the years.
Thankfully, the light in the living room was still on, meaning that they weren't waking anyone. Hangman gave a knock on the porch door, and waited a few beats, before he heard the tell-take signs of footsteps approaching from the other side. The door swung open, to reveal a pyjama clad Maverick, who stopped in surprise at the sight of him.
"Jake?" He questioned, before his gaze drifted to the girl flagging him. It took him a few moments to recognise her, "Judy?"
He received a meek "hello" in reply, before Jake gave her a gentle nudge closer to the doorway. "Little lady needs a place to stay for the night, Mav" he said, giving the man a look over the top of the girls head, one Maverick wasn't used to seeing on the usually laidback pilots face, unless, of course, it were something very serious. Mav's chest seized uncomfortably when the stoic expression didn't slide; it was serious. "Is she alright to bunk here for the night?"
Mav nods dumbly, mind still trying to decipher the hidden message behind Jakes words. "yeah" he agrees after only a moments hesitation, "sure. Come in, kiddo"
He steps aside to let them both in, watching Hangman usher the girl inside with the gentlest manners he'd ever seen the guy posses.
Judy very immediately stuck close to Mav as he led them further into the house, following after her commanding officer like a lost shadow. Both men found this endearing, but neither could dwell on it for long before their minds fled back to why she was there in the first place. Maverick, now stepping into his signature "Mavdad" mode, quickly ushered the girl into the living room, sitting her down on the couch and draping a soft, check-patterned blanket over her shoulder. He swaddled the kid, tucking the fabric firmly up by her chin, and giving both her shoulders a squeeze. He felt the small, barely noticeable tremors underneath his fingertips, and paused, before glancing up into her face.
He stared at for a good few moments- warm eyes drinking in her falsely-composed features, trying to decipher every twitch, every blink.
Maverick threw Hangman a look over his shoulder, before quickly excusing himself to the kitchen- a look that told the man he wasn't leaving without forking over everything he knew. Hangman dutifully followed him to the other room, not before checking to see if the girl was okay on her own for a few minutes.
"I'm fine" she said, though both knew she was most likely anything but. Still, the man admired the brave face the kid was putting on.
In the kitchen, Jake spared the man no details, and quickly recounted the events he'd stumbled upon earlier, both talking hushedly so that their little guest couldn't hear.
It was at that very moment when a set of footsteps coming down the stairs caught their attention, before another pyjama wearing aviator joined them. Rooster, looking equally as confused as to why Hangman was visiting them at such an hour, blinks, and whispers, "whats goin on, Mav?"
"See for yourself, kid" Mav said lowly, before returning to the other room, the two younger men in tow.
Finding one of his students on his couch at twelve o'clock at night was not something Rooster was expecting at all. Both man and girl froze on sight, gawking at each other.
"I didn't know you lived here, Sir" the girl stated after recovering from her initial shock.
Rooster ignored her comment, turning to face his father and friend. "What's she doing here?" He asked, not unkindly, though Maverick still frowned disapprovingly at him.
"There was an- incident- with two other Topgun students" Mav supplies, careful with his words. "So, Judy is spending the night here"
"Incident?" Bradley echoes, eyes furrowing. He glanced back down at the young pilot in training, who was currently finding the laces of her shoes more interesting than anything else in the room.
She starts, "It was nothin-"
"I wouldn't call it nothing, kid" Jake interrupted, a no-nonsense tone in his voice. "If I hadn't have been there-"
But he cuts himself off before he can finish his sentence, all three Captains feeling a heavy shift in the air at what remained unsaid. Hangman felt his teeth snap against each other with such severity he worried he'd chipped a tooth, his jaw clamping shut seconds before any dreaded words could slip out. No, he thought, they needn't dwell on the what ifs. Judy was here now, in Mavericks house; safe.
He'd done his job.
It was then that Rooster noticed the girl shaking in her seat, and swallowed heavily against the uncomfortable lump in his throat. He nudged Mav with his arm, before motioning to the kid with a small, downward jut of his chin.
Taking the hint, Mav knelt down in front of her, carefully taking the girls clasped hands from her lap and into his own two larger hands, squeezing them ever so slightly to quell the trembling he felt in them. "You're fine now, Judy" he spoke softly, head angled down to try and catch more of her face, "you're gonna be okay"
They heard her sniff soundly, before turning her head up to look at Maverick. Her eyes looked slightly wet, and brimming with fear, though the rest of her face remained calm- Maverick feels his heart soar at the brave face she was putting on. He knew he'd done well choosing this kid- she was a trooper in and out of the sky.
"What if-" she starts, glancing at the two other men in the room, before leaning closer to maverick. "What if they try and find me again?" She whispers in a voice that sounded younger than her years, making sure to keep it low so as only Maverick could hear her childish question. Though, both Rooster and Hangman still hear her, and her chest clenches when she spots her Captain tense up out the corner of her eye, before he swoops down to crouch next to Mav.
He looks awkwardly between his pupil and Maverick, who's watching him almost expectantly, still holding Judy's hands- running his thumbs gently across her knuckles.
Rooster levels Judy with an earnest look. "That" he begins, voice steady, "is never going to happen"
He watches a dash of hope flickers across her eyes, before it's snuffed out by the ever present apprehension. She shakes her head, "You don't know that" she says, the trembles now seeping into her voice.
"I do" he replies sternly, face set, words unwavering despite the girls lack of faith in her CO's. "Because we're going to find them and make sure they can't ever do that again. They'll be permanently removed from base"
He feels Mav move out the way beside him, though he keeps his gaze locked on his littlest squad-member, shuffling so he's directly in-front of her now.
"I don't know all their names, Cap" she fumbles, breath quickening as shakes rattle her slight frame. "I can't even remember what they look like- how are you going to know who they are?"
"Easy, easy" he says, laying his hands firmly on her shoulders before she could work herself into a state. He watches silently as she tries to control her breathing, releasing a long, wobbly breath from her lungs, shoulders sagging under the weight of his hands, which do well to hold her tremors at bay. "Hangman was there too, remember?" He says evenly, leaning his head down to look the girl in her eyes, chest clenching foreignly when he finds unshed tears in them. He forces the strange feeling to the back of his mind, squaring himself. "He'll make a statement to our higher ups, and we'll find them before the weeks up" and then, in a low voice, "they won't lay a hand on you" again, is the after thought, which has his anger spiking. They won't lay a hand on her Again.
"But, what if they-"
"Kid" he says firmly, though, still trying to be as gentle as he can so as not to spook her. The girls mouth snaps shut. "They're not gonna come after you" he continues, “and if they even try it; they gotta get through us first" And then-
“You’re safe”.
A pair of big, brown doe-eyes glisten up at him. There goes that painful feeling in his chest again. Maybe he ought to get that checked out by a medic when he's next on base- it could be serious.
"Promise?" Her small voice whispers, and it's a purely driven instinct that forces him to reply;
"Promise"
Chapter 6: Cheerios and Callsigns
Notes:
Hey! Long time no see! sorry for such a long wait for the next chapter, life has been getting in the way of my writing a lot recently but I’m trying to get back on track.
I’m gonna say it now and get it out of the way- but chapter isn’t my favourites, I don’t know why exactly, but there’s something I just didn’t like about it when I was writing it. It feels pretty filler, but I needed to write it to get a bit more character development going between my character and her interactions with Mav and Roo.
Regardless of how much I may dislike it I still hope you find it an enjoyable read! Let me know what you think with a comment, and if anyone has any ideas for future chapters I’d love to hear them!
(Ps: This chapter doesn’t feature Jake this time, but it does have an Amelia appearance!)
(Ps again: I have absolutely no idea how Rooster got his call sign, I don’t know if it was ever explained in canon, so I made something up)
Chapter Text
Bradley woke surprisingly early that Sunday morning, dragging himself out of his bed and tip-toeing down the stairs so as not to wake Penny, who'd been working late at The Hard Deck the night before.
Quietly he made his way to the kitchen, intent on getting a strong cup of coffee down him before he began his day. However, before he could reach the kitchen door, he heard the sounds of light, tinkering laughter, and stopped in his place-frowning at the unfamiliar sound, before he was swiftly reminded of the incident that took place the night before.
Judy had stayed the night of course, because neither Mav, Jake or he were going to let her say otherwise, taking the bed in the spare room as well as a clean set of pyjamas offered to her by Mav. She'd frowned at the small frilly cotton top and matching pink plaid bottoms, before looking to both men with a questioning glance. "They're Amelia's" Mav had explained, "Penny's daughter- she's staying over at a friends tonight, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind you borrowing them"
Bradley remembered how the girl had immediately tried to refuse them, stating she couldn't wear another girls clothes without their permission- which neither himself or Mav understood the issue. Girls were odd. "I'll just sleep in my gym stuff" she stated offhandedly, which caused Rooster to frown down at her.
"These gym clothes? covered in sand?" Bradley asked, looking her up and down with a raised brow. "I don't think Penny will appreciate finding sandcastles in her spare bed tomorrow" then he'd tossed the pyjamas back at her. "Just put 'em on kid. nearest bathrooms down the hall"
Now, Rooster peered through the gap in the kitchen door, watching as the girl sat hunched on the island table, fighting sleep as she slowly nursed a bowl of cereal.
And she wasn't alone.
Beside her, munching on his own breakfast, was Mav. The two were chatting idly to each other, the older appearing far more awake than the younger, though that was no surprise to anyone- Mav had always been an early bird. The kids tiredness however didn't deter her from keeping up with the conversation. Rooster heard Mav mutter something unintelligible, and Judy clearly found whatever he'd said extremely funny- milk dribbling down her chin when she's caught off guard by her own laughter. Mav's own deeper rumble follows, the two chuckling away as the morning radio droned on in the background.
Quite suddenly, Rooster is hit in the chest with that strange, foreign feeling again- the same as the night before. It's something he can't quite place, intensifying only when he hears the soft giggling sounds coming from the kitchen again.
"Sorry we don't have much in kid" he hears Mav apologise after a beat in conversation. "I've been needing to go the supermarket"
"That's okay" the girl reassures softly, inspecting the round cereal shapes swimming around on her spoon. "Cheerios are the superior breakfast anyway"
Mav hums, spooning some into his mouth around another fond chuckle. "I agree" he says between chews.
"When I was a kid me and my dad would place a cheerio on our lips" the girl explains offhandedly, glancing down into her bowl and trying to catch some stray cheerios onto her spoon, "and we'd lean our heads back and blow so they hovered in the air" she smiles, before it drops in favour of an embarrassed blush. She hunches her shoulders and ducks her nose further down towards the bowl, shaking her head at the ridiculous childhood memory. "It was a silly game" she says.
Mav picks a cheerio out his bowl, "Like this?" he asks her, before leaning back in his stool and blowing the cheerio up into the air with his lips. He watches the girls face from the corner of his eye morph into something he could only describe as akin to childlike glee. He quickly runs out of breath, and the cheerio drops out of the air, where he rather impressively catches it in his mouth.
"Yeah, you got it!" She exclaims softly, jaw aching from her face-splitting grin. Mav smiles back, before the two of them compete to see who can blow their cheerio higher into the air- several cheerios ending up all over the floor in the process.
"So, how long has Captain Bradshaw been living with you?" The girl suddenly asks after successfully catching a cheerio in her mouth, causing Mav to pause in his attempt at hovering his next one. He glances over at her, "Hm, 'Bout three years" he says.
The girl looks surprised, "Just three?" She asks incredulously, absently spooning her now soggy lumps of cereal into her mouth, "seems like you've known each other longer than that"
"We have" Mav replies easily, causing the girl to raise a questioning brow, spoon paused mid-scoop. "I've known Rooster since the day he was born" he continues, a wistful smile toying with the corners of his mouth, "he‘s lived with me before now"
"Yeah?" She said around her next mouthful, crunching and swallowing quickly to get her next question out. "When?"
Mav's quiet for a beat, and when he does speak his tone is incredibly soft, "after his mother passed" he says, and Dodger feels like she's been punched in the gut, wishing she could take her question back, "we kept each other going"
"Oh" is her even softer reply, wincing internally. "Sorry, Captain Mav" She mentally berates herself for not realising Mav was a single parent- said information now exceedingly obvious to her, from the way he'd referred to penny as Amelia's mother only, and not Roosters. She swallows to wet her drying throat, clearing it for her next careful words, "that mustn't have been easy"
"Mm" he agrees, still smiling despite the sudden turn in conversation, "it was a very hard time for us both" and then, "She was like a sister to me"
The girl whips about at his words, soggy cereal falling off her spoon and into her bowl. "Sister?" She asks incredulously, and Mav can see her mind trying to fit the puzzle pieces together without prying too deeply. She wets her lips, "So, the Captains not-?"
"My son?" Mav finishes her question, "Not biologically, no" he says, and then his face grows sad and wistful, a striking combination that makes Dodger regret speaking her mind for the second time. "His father, Goose, was my best friend- we flew together"
Oh.
She doesn't dare ask her next question, too afraid to, but the silence that hangs between them asks for her- 'Where is he?'
"He's gone too" Mav answers regardless, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, though Dodger can see through his facade surprisingly easily. Another silence stretches out between them, filled only by the sounds of cutlery scraping against ceramic. Both remain unaware of the young gentleman listening on the other side of the door, he too, stunned into a mournful silence.
"...this is a nice breakfast, Mav"
The older man breathes a laugh at her polite diversion, finding the tightness in his chest unwinding at the new conversation. "Thanks, kiddo" he says, his words harbouring a hidden double-meaning. Then he grows serious, brows drawn sternly as he turns to face her. Rooster would recognise that face anywhere- his signature Mavdad look. "You looking after yourself on base?" He asks, "Three meals a day and all that?"
The girl rolls her eyes good naturedly. "Yes, sir" she says around a breathy chuckle.
"Good" he replies, ruffling her bedhead hair good-naturedly. "Gotta be big and strong to fly in those jets, kid"
She brandishes her arm and pretends to flex her "big and strong" muscles, which pulls a snort from the man, as well as an eye roll.
Suddenly the back door to the kitchen opens, revealing a young, blonde girl around Dodgers age. Judy starts at the sight of her, jumping again when the front kitchen door opens too, and Rooster chooses to finally enter the scene. Dodger doesn't exactly know where to look, having been equally startled by the sudden appearance of the other two house members.
The girl at the backdoor pauses at the sight of the stranger in her kitchen, her mouth a small 'o' shape. "Umm" she hums, face mottled with surprise and confusion, looking briefly to the two men for some sort of explanation. When she finds none in their silent stares, she glances back to Dodger, and shrugs- unfazed.
"Hey" she greets cooly, swerving round the island where Dodger and Mav sit, heading straight for the fridge.
"Hi" Dodger acknowledges in a smaller voice, trying her best not to appear awkward from where she sat, dressed in the girls pyjamas.
She watches as the girl- Amelia, she remembers belatedly- retrieves a carton of orange juice from the fridge, before turning on the spot to stare at her from across the island.
From the corner of her eye she can see Mav smirking knowingly, and frowns.
"So" Amelia begins, resting her arms on the counter top and leaning towards her in an almost interrogating way. "who are you?"
"Judy" She replies, blinking.
Amelia blinks back, giving her a lost look, glancing between her and an amused-looking Mav in a way that beckons the other girl to quickly explain herself better.
"I'm one of Captain Bradshaw's students from the undergraduates program" she says, eyes flitting to the side where she spots said Captain shuffling over to the coffee machine. 'Good morning, Sir' she thinks wryly.
"Oh!" The girl gasps, still looking slightly lost as to why one of Bradley's students would be sitting in her house eating breakfast, though Judy appreciates that she’s being strangely cool about it. "is that the new thing you were tryna explain to me, Mav?"
Mav rolls his eyes, sliding his empty glass across the counter towards the girl, silently asking for some orange juice too. "Yes 'melia, that's the 'new thing' "
The girl grins, wordlessly pouring him a glass "Hm, yeah- I still don't get it"
"Neither do I" is the groggy, unused voice that pipes up, belonging to Rooster. He'd swept into kitchen area without so much as a word of greeting to anyone- beelining for the coffee machine- that the sudden sound of his voice gains the attention of Mav and Amelia, the former quipping a overly cheery 'Good morning, Roo- thank you for joining us', followed by Amelia's snarky 'mornin' to you too, asswipe'. Rooster just scoffs, nearly colliding with the blonde girl in the process of grabbing a bottle of creamer from the cupboard as she was retrieving a glass for herself. He grunted a 'how was the sleepover?, that sounded more like 'how's sleep'ver?'.
Amelia brightens at the question, "It was good, thank you Mr-Captain-Bradshaw-Rooster-Sir" she prattles off in one breath, causing the man to scowl. It earns a breathy laugh from Judy, who hides her grin behind her spoon when Rooster glances over at her, brow quirked challengingly.
Mav quickly diverts Amelia's attention back to the sleepover before an argument can break out between the two psuedo-siblings. "It was good!" The girl replies, before frowning, "it felt more like a therapy session than a sleepover, though. and I was the unfortunate soul playing Dr Phil for the whole night" Mav grinned at the teens dramatics, sipping his OJ in silence whilst Bradley rolls his eyes behind her back.
Dodger frowns with the girl, politely declining the offered OJ before Amelia could pour some into her own empty glass. "Why's that?"
"My friend Missy's just broken up with her boyfriend, so she's a bit...upset" Judy could tell from her tone that 'upset' was a vast understatement in reality.
"Oh" Dodger replies, "that's rough"
"Yeah" She agrees, before narrowing her eyes towards Mav, "But I'd have more sympathy for her if someone let me date once in a while"
Mav immediately turned to the defence, holding his palms up at her in surrender from her aggressive advancement on his parenting skills, "That's not up to me, 'Melia" he says, “when it comes to you and dating- your moms in charge"
Amelia turns her nose up at him, still scowling. "That's just ‘cause you're scared of her" she whispers, causing both Dodger and Mav to laugh. She evens spots Captain Bradshaw cracking a grin over by the coffee machine.
"Don't I know it" he replies nervously, giving Judy a sly wink to show he was joking.
"Cmon Mav, I'm seventeen" the teen huffs exasperatedly, looking two seconds away from stomping her feet. "it's embarrassing not being able to date when everyone my age is"
"I’m eighteen and I haven't dated anyone" Judy pipes up in what she hopes is a helpful way, before she feels her cheeks flaming at the sudden attention of the three people in the room. She ducks her gaze and shrugs, "if that makes you feel any better" she finishes lamely, intent on shoving the last dregs of breakfast into her mouth before they became total mush.
"Oh, so your parents are boring and don't let you date too?"
Her spoon pauses, and she blinks, silent for a beat. She feels Mav's eyes on her, drinking her actions in carefully. "Not quite" is what she answers with, glancing back up to Amelia with an awkward smile.
Her answer seems to satisfy the younger girl anyway, who quickly moves on when she hears the coffee machine beeping. She pesters Rooster for a cup, who tries batting her away telling her to "make her own, this one's mine"
“Don’t be an asshole, Brad”
“-you’re such a whiny shit”
“Language Bradley- you’re supposed to be setting an example”
“She called me an asshole”
Dodger watches the family interaction with a soft smile, laughing when Amelia tries to bodily shove the man out the way so she can make her coffee, the larger man of course not budging an inch. She only turns away when she feels Mav's eyes- and finds him still watching her. He opens his mouth to speak but Judy beats him to it, "am I okay to go change in the bathroom?" She asks, and they both glance down at her cute, pink pyjamas.
He's quick to point her in the right direction, despite her knowing where it is from changing the previous night. And when she leaves she could’ve sworn she heard Amelia pipe up with, "Move over- Wait, are those my Pj's?"
She returns a few minutes later, sliding into the seat next to Mav again. He’s in the middle of a quiet conversation with Rooster, who's leant up against the other side of the counter, nursing his now lukewarm coffee. His eyes flicker briefly to her when she sits, before delving back into the conversation with Mav- and Dodger suddenly feels out of place in a domestic setting such as this one, reminded very quickly that this is not hers to get comfortable with. She’s only a one-time guest.
Amelia is quick to fix that train-of-thought, however, by pulling her into a conversation about a Horror film she and her friends had watched the night before. She chats to her from across the room whilst multi-tasking, grabbing some cereal and a bowl from the cupboard as well as trying to work the coffee machine, and Dodger swiftly concludes that she likes this girl. Amelia talks to her like she's known her for years, and Judy finds herself talking back to her with equal openness.
"I caught on to who the killer was in the first twenty minutes" Amelia proudly announces after Dodger explains how she didn't enjoy the ending of the film, jabbing a button on the coffee machine and growling huffily when nothing happens. Rooster pauses mid sentence, catching the teen grappling with the tricky machine, but rather than helping, he favours in watching her struggle instead. Mav admonishes the younger man.
Rooster grins back at his unimpressed father-figure, and takes one last swig from his coffee before placing it in the dishwasher. He rounds on Dodger, “you ready to go?”
"Hm?" Judy asks dumbly, head swivelling to face him, Amelia's amusing wrestle with technology momentarily forgotten about.
Mav helpfully intervenes, "Roos-Captain Bradshaw is going to drive you back to base, so he and Hangman can file a report on the-" he pauses, glancing over at Amelia, who appeared to not be listening, favouring on smacking the shit out of the machine in an effort to get it to actually spit out the coffee. "-incident last night" he finishes, shaking his head at his youngest kids antics.
"Oh." Dodger says, hoping she didn’t sound as dejected as she felt, “Right, of course".
Reality had set in like an evening chill, carving out a pit in her chest and emptying all the fuzziness that sitting in Mav's home and eating breakfast with his family had filled her with. She could’ve stayed in this kitchen forever, laughing with Mav and gossiping about movies with Amelia- but of course the real world eventually had to barge back in and remind her of why she was there in the first place. The incident- what a kind way of saying she’d almost been sexually assaulted.
She glanced down at the long forgotten breakfast bowl in front of her, handing it over to Mav when he offered to take it from her, before shuffling out of her seat. She brushed the non-existent crumbs off her day-old running leggings before looking back to her Captain, sparing him a smile that looked braver than she felt.
"I'm ready" she says.
_________________________________
The drive back to Base doesn't take long, and most of the time it’s spent listening to the radio.
Judy sits in the passenger seat of Roosters truck, flicking away at the stations whilst her Captain looks on in barely concealed annoyance. After a few minutes of endlessly searching for a good song Roosters hand bats at her, stopping her from changing over. Turns out he likes the station she's landed on- and Dodger finds out very quickly that she doesn't exactly hold the same fondness for it.
When he isn't looking, she switches it again, grinning sheepishly when he turns to scowl at her. "C’mon, Your taste in music isn’t the best, Cap” she says in defence, before "this is much better". She turns away from him to hide her smirk, singing along under her breath, gazing out the truck window and watching the outside world pass by in a blur of colours. Rooster grumbles noncommittally- She was right, it was a better song, but nonetheless he still felt insulted.
"Yeah well, you sing like a dying cat" he huffs sourly after a beat. She didn't, her singing voice wasn't half bad- but he was feeling a little hurt from the jab at his music taste, and that was the first counter-insult that came to mind. "I'll let you to keep it on this station if you give my ears break"
Much to his pleasure, she shuts up very quickly. He watches her pull her tongue out at him from the corner of his eye, before she smirks deviously, and begins shuffling her legs about. His keen eye spots as she swings her trainer-clad feet up, placing them on his dashboard.
Oh,hell no-
"Heyheyheyyy!" He barks, snapping a finger at the offending shoes that were no-doubt scuffing the upholstery, "Feet off my dash" he gives said feet a small shove, and she puts them back down in the foothold with a bashful, yet very mischievous smile.
Rooster scowls, and with a free hand pushes his sunglasses further up on his nose, "we're not at that level where you can press your nasty little grippers on my front-screen"
This causes the girl to cackle in her seat, laughter loud and singing through the air as it bubbled out her throat and travelled around the confined space.
"There's levels to your friendship’s?" She asks, swivelling slightly in her seat to stare across at him. She cocks a brow, and he throws an abrasive look back at her.
"This isn't a friendship" he clarifies, half teasing...but also a touch truthful, and his eyes are fixed on the road in front of them, so he doesn’t see the way the girls face falls despite herself. “This is a mentorship- if that"
"Give it time, Cap" she quickly counters, leaning her head against the passenger side window to smirk over at him, "you'll warm to me"
He scoffs, glancing back at her, "The world will freeze over before that happens, kid"
"So" she starts after a small bout of quiet, watching the man focus determinedly on the road, brows pinched beneath his sunglasses and hands resolute in their ten and two positions. "What level do I need to be to find out how you got that callsign?" Her question catches him off-guard, and she can see him blink confusedly behind the dark shades, eyes still fixed on the traffic before him.
"Rooster" is she tests the name on her tongue, snorting under her breath. "I mean cmon, how the hell did you get a 'sign like that?"
His gaze narrows, eyes flitting across at her for a split moment, not missing the eager, toothy grin, nor the mischievous wiggle of her brows. He sighs. "When I was a cadet" he begins, not missing the triumphant look on the girls face as she settles into her seat, blaring radio forgotten as she focuses completely on his story. "I would wake at the crack of dawn- at least two hours before we were supposed to"
Her eyes widen comically, a short laugh tumbling from her mouth. "Woah there, eager beaver" she exclaims good-naturedly, cutting into his story, "Hey, maybe that should've been your callsign instead" she continues, missing the exasperated sigh and annoyed look he levels her in favour of poking some fun at him, "Captain Beaver Bradshaw- haha!"
He snorts, shakes his head, and mumbles beneath his breath “Beavers a shit callsign-"
She hears him, “Oh, but Rooster isn't-"
"-Jeez, You gonna let me finish the story, or are you just gonna run your mouth some more?"
She dutifully shuts her trap, settles back again, and motions for him to proceed.
"'Dunno what you're laughing at anyway, kid- being eager to learn isn't a bad thing" he snarks back, before diving into his story once more, “It was mainly due to insomnia, anyway; sleeping was hard for a kid who was just excited to even be there" he spins the wheel, and the truck makes a sharp left turn, causing the girl to sway in her seat at the motion, "’Took a lot of work to get to that point in my life" and a four year set-back, but he refrains from mentioning that particular detail.
He also elects to ignore the fact that sleep hadn't been easy for him long before that- since his parents had died, if he were being completely honest with himself.
"I used to wake up my bunk-mates" he says, moving the story on before his own thoughts got the better of him, “annoyed the fu- er, hell out of them" he hears the girl laugh softly from her seat as his almost slip up- Mav’s earlier words piping up in his mind: ‘language Rooster, set an example’.
He shakes the man’s annoying voice away and continues, eyes still focused ahead of him, "I used to come up with different ways to get them out of bed in the morning just ‘cause I was awake and bored shi- erm, out of my mind"
From the quiet coming from his passenger seat, he could tell the girl was positively rapt with attention. He smirked to himself, both at the kids eagerness and the resurfacing memories from his tale, "started with banging pots and pans, or playing music really loud”
The kid makes it known she's still listening with a casual, "ooh" and "oh no" every now and then, as he recounts all the ways he messed with his old dorm-mates, driving half of them to near insanity. She particularly enjoyed the one about the water gun filled with sour milk.
"One morning I woke them up tryna imitate the sound of a fire-drill siren" he explains, “they laughed at me and said I sounded closer to a chicken"
This causes Dodger to laugh too- that same tinkering noise from earlier that morning, which causes a stirring in his chest again. He briefly takes a hand off the wheel to rub at his sternum, trying to ease the uncomfortable ache. He really needed to get that checked.
"From then on they started calling me Rooster" he clarifies, smiling fondly to himself, “the bird that wakes you up in the morning"
Dodger's smiling too, he spots her tell-tale grin from the corner of his eye. "After that, the name stuck" he swiftly concludes, and Dodger surprises him by telling him, very truthfully, that she liked his name- meaning and all. He liked it too; it suited him (And it felt very close to his fathers Callsign).
"Okay" he cracks, drumming his hand on the steering wheel and making the girl jump at the sudden exclamation. “Your turn"
She stares at him, elbow resting against the door handle, hand cushioning her head, and chin smushed against the groove of her seatbelt. "Huh?”
"I told you mine, now you tell me yours- fair deal" he explains simply, watching her frown.
"Woahwoahwoah! I don't remember making that deal?" She exclaims quizzically, making him sigh in exasperation.
“Jeez, I gotta sign a deal-waiver every time I wanna talk to you now or something?" He asks, glancing over at her with an mildly irritated look, "Spill, Dawson"
She doesn't spill. In fact, she's never been more quiet. 'Damn, the one time I’m actually asking her to talk and she's like a mouse'. He decides to prod her into conversation with a starting question, "Who gave you the callsign?"
"...My dad"
Her answer surprises him, "Oh?"
"Yeah- he was a pilot too" she says, fiddling with the strap of her seatbelt and staring out her window.
"Yeah?" He pry's politely, "Navy?"
"Mhm" she hums, "Lt. Henry ‘Phantom’ Dawson. Soon as you thought you'd seen his aircraft- boom, he was gone" there's a soft smile on her face, pride glittering her features. The name sounds vaguely familiar, though Rooster can't quite place where he'd heard it before.
Before he can ask, she's delving into her story, "I was probably about seven when he gave me my callsign"
"Seven??" Is his incredulous reply, taking his eyes off the road briefly to stare at her over the top of his sunglasses.
"Yeah. He’d, uh- been called into my school one morning when he was on shore leave" she explains, “and I can see it in his eyes when he gets there- he's really pissed off" she laughs at the memory, still able to picture her fathers confused and disappointed look fresh in her mind.
Rooster can't help the small, disbelieving laugh that escapes him, "What could you have possibly done at seven years old to get your Dad called into the school?"
She smiles sheepishly, and immediately jumps to her own defence, "Look It wasn't that bad, okay?" She snaps back, "There was this kid in my class- Ollie"
He briefly teases her about Ollie because 'ooh is Ollie a boy? Did you fancy Ollie? Was he your little boyfriend?’
It’s her turn to look annoyed with his interruptions, “Shut up, dude. It wasn't like that, okay? -Listen, Ollie wasn't a very well off kid, right? not a lot of money at home, and he had too many brothers and sisters to count on one hand. It didn't take a genius to tell he was poor, y'know? the Kid was coming into school with newspaper in his shoes just so they'd fit- like hand me downs from his older brothers and stuff. You get the vibe?"
Rooster did 'get the vibe' - there'd been a few kids like Ollie when he was growing up too. Though he couldn’t say he’d spotted the signs when he was a child. No one had- a lot of those kids went unnoticed until it was much too late, and one day you'd come into class and there'd be an empty seat at their desk. Now that he was older, he'd understood what it was- childhood poverty sucked.
His internal monologue is placed on pause when he hears the girl speak again, "I knew there was a likelihood his school lunch was probably the only meal he was having the whole day…so i did something about it"
Rooster eyes peel away from the road again, settling sharply on his small passenger- who isn't meeting his eye, though her lips are turned up slightly, trying her best to squash her amusement. He gawks at her.
"You didn't"
"I did” she reveals with a short, guilty nod, "I stole food from my school."
Rooster barks out a laugh, a full-fledged howl at how astounded he is by the girl. Or at-least, the seven year old version of her.
"Not a lot!" She tries to counter the mans transparent shock, waving her hands at him as if the action would prove her innocence. "Jus' a carton of milk here, or a little snack bar there- small things that I could swipe during the day! And I’d stick it in his backpack for him to find when he got home. He never knew it was me doing it” she says, “The teacher didn't even know anything about it. I kept it up for Five months before they caught me”
Rooster gives a low, impressed whistle, tongue clicking in disbelief, and brows climbing high on his forehead. Damn, if only he could shake hands with that seven year old kid.
“What did your Dad say?" He asks, surprised to find himself very eager to hear how her story played out.
He hears her chuckle almost nervously, twisting her seatbelt in her grasp, “Well, we left the school and got in the truck and he was so quiet- like deathly quiet, man. Never known him to speak so little in his life."
Bradley nods along with her monologue, and she takes it as a sign to continue, “and I'm sitting there in the passenger seat thinkin, 'great, here comes the part where he starts yellin’” Rooster glances over at her again at this, and finds her…smiling?
“But he just looks at me and he says, ‘well, kiddo. I think I just found your callsign’” she says with a warm grin, gaging the reaction of her instructor. Her grin widens when he blinks stupidly at her.
“Wait- that’s it?” He asks incredulously, and she nods.
“That’s it- The.End” she says.
"Wow” he finds himself momentarily floored. “That's a pretty neat story, Kid" he concedes after a pause, and he means it. It blew his own story out of the water.
"Mm" she agrees with a soft laugh, “I know people usually get their callsigns after they actually sign up for the navy-I still got called Dodger during my pilot training, when the lieutenant got a look at some of the evasive manoeuvres I was pulling in the air- so I guess Seven and Seventeen-year-old me weren't very different from each other after all”
"Or eighteen" Rooster counters with a mock grimace, “you still owe me a granola bar, thieving little Rat"
That pulls a surprised laugh from the girl, her whole face brightening at his joke- at least, she hopes it’s a joke. She gasps, “Jesus, you still hung up on that granola bar?"
He smirks, “Never come between a man and his snacks"
“I’ll be sure to remember that” she tally’s back to him, and the two lapse into a comfortable silence, filled only by the warbling sounds of Billy Ocean playing out from the speakers.
“I still like to think it was my Dad who gave me the callsign first" Rooster hears the girl speak softly from her seat when they pull up to a stop light.
He’s all too quick to agree with her. “Tell you what, kid?” he says, and she turns to him, holding onto his words with the same fervour she had with his stories. “He's damn good at giving callsigns"
He watches her face soften considerably, eyes scrunching up into a ghostly smile. “Yeah" she whispers fondly, turning back out the window to gaze at their surroundings as the car rolls forward through the green light. Rooster doesn’t miss her next quietly spoken words,
“he was"
Chapter 7: Six Ducklings And A Rooster
Notes:
Sorry for the long wait! This is just a silly little chapter idea that I thought of and decided to throw in. Next chapter is already in the works so hopefully it won’t be such a long gap in between this and the next.
Chapter Text
It was a crisp, Friday morning when Rooster pulled his truck into base- intent on heading to the mess hall to grab a well anticipated breakfast before heading to his first teaching lesson of the morning. Sure, he could've slept-in a little longer this morning and grabbed his own breakfast at home before heading in, but today was Friday; which meant hash brown potatoes were on the menu. And Dina, the cafeteria lady, always gave him extra portions.
"She's got the hots for you, Roo" Mav had teased one morning, earning him a swift boot to the shin beneath their lunch table.
Dina was sixty-eight, by the way, and an incredibly terrifying lady to all who brushed paths with her.
Rooster hadn't long pocketed his keys, removed his sunglasses to tuck them away too, and barely stepped passed the threshold to the bases main building when he was accosted by six very familiar people.
He stopped dead in his tracks at the small crowd of squad-students as they accumulated out of thin air, looking far more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed than he'd ever seen them. Especially for it barely pushing half-six in the morning. They watch him with matching sets of twinkling gazes, their smiles far too wide on their face to be genuine. He's immediately unnerved.
"Uh" he starts, blinking down at his students (or across for some- as most of his boys were on the taller side) "mornin?"
"Good morning, Captain Bradshaw" six voices crooned back in a scarily accurate symphony, making Roosters eyes widen in mild disturbance. Their greeting was followed by pure silence, and more uncomfortable smiling. Rickrolls face in particular looked like it was about to split in half by how large his smile is, which is freaky, considering the usually stoic guy is always the last of the group to be cracking grins. Hound looks like he's two seconds away from an aneurism, and Checkers looks no better beside him. The only normal-looking one is Dodger, who stands at the front of the group of tall boys. Her smile is less terrifying and more devious- which doesn't unnerve him any less.
"Alright then" he mutters after the strong, awkward quiet, his narrow eyes flickering back and forth between each of their faces, before parting the squad down the middle like he was Moses himself, and making his way to the cafeteria- his steps a little more brisk than before.
He hears the sounds of sharp squeaky footsteps behind him, six sets to be exact, and frowns. He whips his head back to peer over his shoulder, and spots the small group following him in a single-filed line, matching his pace exact.
He turns back round, frown deepening as his confusion tenfolds, before reasoning that they were probably walking to the mess hall for breakfast too. Good, he thought, I won't have them flying on an empty stomach.
He reaches the cafeteria in minutes, still flagged by his six squad-students, and spots Mav instantly. He's sitting at a table on his own, scrolling through his phone with one hand and nursing a cup of coffee with the other. He looks up, spots Bradley, and then the crowd of kids behind him. He spares them all an odd look.
Brad waves to his ex-teacher/new-appointed-boss/adopted-father, before grabbing a dinner tray from the rack and heading to the cafeteria line. As predicted, he isn't alone- his students follow suit, matching his every move down to the way he rolls his neck to pop a persisted knot there.
"Christ" he grumbles in annoyance before calling back over his shoulder to his students, "will you stop following me?!?"
Nevertheless, they continued to waddle after him, unsettling smirks painted across all their faces. They stand behind him in the line at the cafeteria stand, watching what he picked with bated breath- before each choosing the very same items.
"What are you guys doing?" He asks, rounding on them after they all pick a banana from the fruit and yogurt stand- glaring at Rickroll specifically, who was known to express his hatred for the fruit at every opportunity he could.
He watched as his squad spared each other confused glances, looking as though they were all taking part in a telepathic conversation, before six faces turned to stare at him with bemused concern.
"..Eating breakfast?" Twix states bluntly, his words quickly followed by a sea of nodding heads.
Bradley scowls at his squad, grabs a carton of apple juice- not missing the six hands that scurry to grab one too- and makes his way over to a table where Mav sat.
Lo and behold, he hears their pattering footsteps follow behind him, and grimaces.
"Help me" He hisses to the older man when he sits down on the bench, before their quiet table is accosted by five other men who all push and shove to sit by their Captain, the lone girl instantly admitting defeat and sliding in next to Mav, bumping shoulders with him in greeting.
"Mornin'" she chirps merrily at him, and he throws her a suspicious look around the square of toast he was currently stuffing in his mouth.
He finishes his bite, takes a sip of coffee to wash it down and leans in to whisper, "what's going on here, Miss Dawson?"
The girl smiles, and the two glance over at the opposing bench full of boys, tucking into their identical meals with gusto (one banana going untouched, of course). Guild and Hound, who'd managed to safely wrestle their way into the free space on either side of the man, we're eagerly watching their Captain as he in turn pretended to ignore their existence.
"Bonding" is her simple reply.
His teams strange behaviour didn't stop at breakfast, and carried on through the morning into their lesson.
Rooster was stood at the front of the classroom, scribbling diagrams on the chalkboard to the left of the main screen that showed todays current presentation- which was on the physics behind the drag force on an aircraft. For the majority of the two hour period he'd had his back turned from his students, unnerved by the unwavering and over-exaggerated looks of admiration that adorned each face staring back at him. Hence why he made an effort in busying himself with the task at hand, which was drawing a rather shoddy looking F-16, and trying vainly to block out the six-sets of piercing eyes he felt in the back of his head. What he wasn't quite able to tune out however, was their hushed chatter (that wasn't very quiet at all).
"Hey, Duck Four!" Hound-dog whispers loudly across the gap between the two-seater desks, catching the attention of Rickroll, who sits at the front beside Guild and leans around the man to talk to Hound.
Rooster stops mid-wobbly sketch, chalk poised in the air. Duck what?!-
"Did you need my notes from yesterdays seminar?" He hears Hound continue, and doesn't mistake the small titters of laughter his other students try to smother under clasped hands or behind notebooks.
"Yeah, That'd be great" he hears the smirk in Rickrolls voice as he replies, "thanks, Duck Two!"
Rooster doesn't comment on the bizarre name choices, opting to remain curious, and tries his best to carry on with his teaching. At least they were talking about their schoolwork, he thinks, trying to look positively at his students' odd conversation.
Barely five minutes pass before another voice pipes up in a hissing whisper, Rooster immediately recognising it as his squads youngest. He presses the button for the next slide on the screen, and watches the kid carefully from the corner of his eye.
"Duck Five" Dodgers voice fizzes from the back row, her words directed at the broad back of the aviator seated at the desk directly in front of her. "Your heads in the way" she grunts, "I can't read the board"
Guild hisses back, "Maybe you should try growing, Duck One"
"This is why I sit at the front" the girl grumbles, perking up only when Twix slides his notes across the desk to her. She flashes him a small, great full smile.
"Thanks, Duck Six" she hums.
Rooster refrains from slamming his head against the wall. "Enough with the ducks!" He finally snaps at his squad, thankful when they fall silent and heed his warning.
There were no more talk of ducks for the remainder of the lesson.
There's a short break following their class, where Rooster tells his students to change into their flight gear and meet him out on the runway for a post-session test-flight to try out some manoeuvres they'd learnt.
"Anyone who's late on arrival will be forced to drop and do fifty push-ups" he'd forewarned them, "I don't appreciate any soldier who keeps the rest of their squad behind time, understood?"
Turns out it is was he who was running late to meet his squad at the runway. Talk about eating your own words. At least he was Captain, he thought with a wry grin. He couldn't exactly make himself do push-ups, now could he?
When he arrived in a huff and out of breath from running, he spotted his students crouched around in a circle, all staring at something taking place on the ground beside them- so rapt with attention that neither of them heard him approaching.
As he grew closer, he spotted Hound hunched down and scribbling something into the dirt with a long stick, Dodger leaning over his left shoulder to point at certain aspects of his drawing, making soft comments on the work. Several squad members nod at her unintelligible words, chipping in their own quiet opinions, which Hound nods enthusiastically at, increasing his wildly-animated drawing.
"What are you guys doing?"
Six heads jump at the sound of their Captains voice, Guild and Twix even accidentally clashing skulls in their mad attempt to straighten up in the presence of their superior officer.
"Nothin!" They all yell, and he watches as several shoes hurriedly scuff at the dirt, kicking the dust up and ruining whatever they'd been intricately drawing in the small mixture of sand and dirt.
He stares down at the dirt pile, before flitting his gaze up to eye his students carefully. They smile at him, cheesy grins almost glinting at him in the sun.
"You're all weird" he says, brushing past them and leading the way to the grounded jets. They eagerly follow behind.
He's up in the air first, climbing to Four-thousand feet to make sure he was comfortably over the hard deck line, before waiting for his students to follow. He hears the crackling of their radio devices as they enter close range, and sees the blinking of their aircraft's on his radar screen.
"Okay aviators" he begins, adjusting the straps on his helmet as he speaks to them, knowing they can hear well enough. "We're going to take this mornings session nice and easy-"
He stops, and chances a glance around his window, expecting to see his class hovering there, ready and waiting for his instructions- but there isn't a single aircraft in sight.
"-Where'd you go?" He asks the open air dumbly, scanning the sky in front of him. A cheery voice chimes through his radio.
"-Duck two, requesting to reveal squads location?" He hears Dodger call, and an exasperated sigh escapes him, as well as some of his dwindling patience.
"- affirmative, Duck one" Hound counters.
He knows the girls grinning when she next speaks, "We're behind you, sir"
Rooster whips his head round to the corners of his blind spots, and lo and behold Rooster spies every member of his missing squad flying together in a perfect V formation behind his own aircraft. If he wasn't currently so annoyed with his students, he'd be thoroughly impressed.
"What on earth are you guys doing?!" He grumbles, and hears the static passage of their laughter through his headset. He even sees one of them waving rather enthusiastically to him, and resists the urge to flip them off.
"I believe they're flocking you, Captain" a voice from ground control sounds over his communications device, light and teasing, and Rooster feels his annoyance spiking.
"You look like a group of birds from the ground-up, sir"
Rooster lets his his head hang with a groan, knowing very well that birds were not the animal his squad were intending to mimic.
"Captain, I need your help with something-"
"Oh my god" was the maddening reply that both Mav and Hangman could hear from down the hall, followed swiftly by increasing footsteps heading to the office, and a shout of, "ITS LUNCH! GO AWAY, GRAY"
Then, Bradley appeared at the doorway, storming into the room and slamming the door behind him. The two other Captains watch as the man chances a glance back over his shoulder, and groans. Mav laughs loudly- it appears the closed door hadn't deterred the mans student from pressing his face up against the office window.
Checkers calls to him through the door, "Captain, can I-"
"-Fuck off!" Rooster interrupts, receiving a scornful 'Bradley' from Mav, though it's barely intelligible around the man's laughter. Hangman, pretending to be getting on with his work (for once), grins like a Cheshire Cat, his shoulders shaking with restrained giggles.
Thankfully, Checkers seems to get the message, for the next time Bradley looks back to the door the young man is gone.
He releases a breath he didn't know he was holding and practically deflates into his chair.
His relief is short lived however, as not a minute later the door swings open, and his youngest (and now freshly labelled least favourite) student walks in, "Hey, guys" she greets cheerfully.
Rooster slams his head down on his desk with a defeated whine. "Leave me alone, Dawson" he growls, voice muffled by the surface of the table he was currently smushing his face into.
Her reply is blunt but comically cheery, "Oh, I'm not here for you"
Rooster lifts his head, "wha'?"
The kid grins at his dumb reply, "It's Fridays- Me and Mav have our weekly chats on Fridays" she explains, throwing him a face that said, 'duh', before perching herself up onto the table-top of Mav's desk (considering her usual "Friday talk" seat was currently occupied by her Captain).
"She likes the company" Mav explains, to which the girl scoffs half-heartedly at.
"You like the company" she counters, knowing in a way they were both right, before noticing how Rooster continued to watch her with weary eyes. "what's wrong with you, anyway?"
He glowers, "Like you don't know"
She turns to Mav, feigning innocence with a dash of confusion, and Mav thinks if the kid wasn't already pursuing a career in the navy, she'd make a terrific actor.
"I have no idea what he's talking about, Mav" she says.
"Maybe you should ask your squad, might jog your memory" Rooster bites back, twiddling a stray pencil between his fingers and leaning back in his chair to glare moodily at the pair.
He sees the girl open her mouth to no doubt defend her and her squad-mates' case further, but the words fall short on her tongue when Phoenix walks into the room.
He sees her eyes go wide and her mouth fall open in shock, and doesn't miss the way her whole body practically shakes, knocking over the small tub of pencils on Mav's desk.
"Judy" Mav admonishes, but there's no real heat behind his tone. He looks up from his work and spots the girls face, and then Phoenix- quickly putting two and two together, before letting loose a breathy laugh.
"Oh my god- ohmygod" Dodger fumbles over her words, and reaches out to grab Mav's arm, shaking him in excitement. The action reminds Rooster of his days in school, when groups of girls would hold onto each other and squeal in awe whenever their crush would walk by.
Here, the girls barely able to breathe when she squeaks out, "Mav, its her"
Rooster watches the interaction with very confused eyes, almost hidden behind two deeply furrowed brows that scrunch together to meet at the centre of his forehead.
Phoenix greets her fellow workmates with a few distracted 'Hey's that sound more like 'hm's, before dropping down into her chair, tossing the large clipboard in her arms haphazardly onto her desk where it lands with a muted thud. It is in that same moment where her gaze falls to the young girl, still jittering nervously in her seat on Mav's desk and gazing across at her with the biggest twinkling brown orbs the woman had ever seen.
"Holy shit" the girl gasps as the woman attention lands directly on her, and can feel her cheeks heating up under her cool gaze. She manages a soft, "Hi".
"Hey" the aviator replies smoothly, her smile small and confused, yet still kind. Dodger nearly combusts on the spot, and tries-but fails- to not totally geek out.
"you- you're-" she whips round to Mav again, and leans down to whisper rather excitedly in his face, "She's Phoenix" before promptly turning back round the face the Woman of the moment, "THE Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace!" She exclaims.
Natasha raises a surprised brow, blinks, and looks round the room at the other three men who - sans Mav- appear just as astonished as she.
"Dude, I've read all about you" Dodger prattles on, smile threatening to split her face, admiration heavy in her words. "you're insane!- like, total girl-boss of the century"
Phoenix's smile brightens a touch at her words, becoming almost smug, as the kid stokes the flames of her ego. Rooster, overcoming his own shock from his students hero-worshipping rant, whistles low and says, "Damn Nix, didn't know you had a fan club out there"
Hangman chimes, "Yeah, population: One"
The two men share a long laugh at that, and although it's technically an insult towards her as-well, Dodger feels far too surprised seeing her Captain acting so relaxed for his words to garner a negative reaction from her. In fact; she smiles too.
Pheonix however doesn't share the same sentiment, and tosses the stress ball sitting next to her coffee mug at Rooster, smirking successfully when it bounces off his head. She turns back to the younger girl, and gives her a brief wink- Judy grins like a kid at Christmas.
"Don't listen to them, kid" she says, gaze fond, "I actually appreciate that you've read up about me. It's ...sweet"
"I have a list!-" the girl chirps, and Rooster tries to hide a snort of laughter behind his coffee mug, "you're spot number four-" then her eyes widen at the realisation that she'd just blurted that embarrassing fact out in front of a group of high-skilled Naval aviators, not to mention revealed that the woman she'd just full-blown fawned over didn't even sit at the top of said list. "No offence, Captain Phoenix" she rushes to amend her words, but the Captain brushes her off with a wave and another slight smile.
"None taken" Phoenix says, but that doesn't stop her curiosity from asking, "who's third above me?"
Dodge smiles, tone soft and bashful as she mutters, "Admiral Kazansky"
She passes a quick look to Mav, sees his smile tremble slightly and his eyes turn wistful and sad as they momentarily cloud over- lost in a moment of the past. Dodger, struck by guilt, quickly adapts the conversation. "Mav's number two above him" she continues, which immediately strips the melancholy look from his face, has him laughing softly at her, and throwing her a fond wink.
"Of course he is" Rooster mutters, rolling his eyes when Mav raises his brows over at him, mouthing 'jealous?'.
Dodger smirks, twirling back round to face Phoenix. "-though, I think you could easily compete with him for that position, maam" she teases.
Mav gives the kid a sound flick on the back of the head-
"ow" she yips.
"suck up" he rumbles.
"Where am I on this 'Hero-leaderboard', kiddo?" Hangman intervenes, proudly puffing his chest and smiling innocently up at her from his reclined position.
She winces at him jokingly, "oof, Bottom of the list"
"What?!"
"Yeah-you're wayyy down there, buddy" her tinkering laughter follows suit with her words at the mock-outrage plastering the mans face.
"Ha" Rooster crows from his seat, twirling side-to-side in his desk chair, “Suck it, Bagman"
"Dunno what you're laughing at, Bradshaw" Hangman jibes back with a sly grin, their banter bordering somewhere between affectionate and rivalling. "you probably don't even make the list"
This receives a laugh from everyone -bar Rooster, who casually flips hangman the bird and sinks lower into his chair, still spinning it softly.
"It really wouldn't surprise me, Seresin" he grouches, mumbling to himself despite everyone hearing him fine. If Dodger didn't know any better she would've guessed that her Captain was sulking. But then again, there was a constant frown beneath that bushy moustache whenever she was around, so it was hard to tell.
Like a sixth sense, Rooster becomes aware of another one of his students appearing in the open doorway, and swings his chair round to find that Checkers had returned, looking very affronted by Dodgers presence in the office space.
"How come she's allowed to talk to you and I'm not?” He asks, jabbing a finger in her direction for emphasis. He scowls, "Sir, this is Squad-ling favouritism"
Rooster groans, "Its not favouritism, Checkers" he protests in great annoyance, pinching at the bridge of his nose to starve off the headache he felt blooming behind his eyes, “the little rat is here because apparently she needs to speak with Mav" he ignores the look he receives from both Mav and Dodger at his use of the word "Rat".
Checkers falters at the explanation, and Rooster is already turning back to his desk, so he quickly pipes up again, “Sir, I need to speak with you-"
"Is it urgent?" The Captain cuts in.
"No, but-“
"Is someone dying?"
"...no? it’s about the-“
"Then drop me an email, goodbye" Rooster concludes with a dismissing wave, resting his elbows on his desk and massaging two fingers against each side of his temple.
"Sir, please, I'm not trying to mess with you." Checkers practically begs, “I was trying to print out our flight plans for tomorrow just like you asked me to, but they got jammed in the printer and now the printer by the Rec room is broke and there's no technician on site till twelve tomorrow but the group needs to look over them before-"
Rooster halts the younger mans verbal diarrhoea by removing his hands from his head to hold them up in the air, and turns to fix his student with a perplexed look.
“Checkers, are you aware that I'm an instructor?" He says, “What makes you think I can fix-“
"Bradley" Mav cuts in, and Roosters words fall short in his mouth at the admonishing look the older man throws him. “you're a teacher” he says, and Rooster thinks ‘Yes, Mav. I am. I’m a teacher to six little flying gremlins’ and then his own brain has the nerve to correct him with ‘you mean six flying ducklings’
Mav jerks his head to the doorway, “go and help your student"
Roosters eyes flit back and forth between Mav’s stern face, Dodgers poorly concealed grin, and Checkers’ hopeful look. “Fine” he groans loudly, but relents, getting up from his seat. He heads to the doorway, motioning Checkers out the room with a ‘after you’ signal. “lead the way, kid" he says with a tired sigh.
Dodger watches them go, half tempted on making a duck reference to Checkers on his way out, but contains herself. Her Captain had barely departed the room when Mav suddenly straightened up beside her, leaning forward against his desk, and confronting her with a slightly-amused-but-equally-reprimanding,
"What have you done, Judy?”
Dodger blinks down at him, their height a full head-length away due to her advantage of being sat up on the table, and asks "What do you mean?"
He frowns one of his weird frowns, the ones that still look like he's barely holding back his laughter. "Don’t play dumb with me, kiddo” he says, "you and that squad of yours are up to something"
She opens her mouth to protest, but the small, wheezy laugh that escapes her unintentionally rats her out. So she clamps her mouth shut, lips pressed into a thin, wobbly line, and simply shrugs her shoulders at him- picture of innocence. Yeah, like he'll ever believe that.
"you've been giving your Captain grief all day" the man continues, giving her a pointed look as he taps the end of his ballpoint pen against her jean-clad knee. "what is it?"
"Nothing!" She protests, but her voice is squeaky and has both of them grinning at each other at her lack of a decent poker-face. With a short sigh that sounds much to close to a giggle, she decides to confess, "Listen, the boys found out that a few of the staff have been referring to our squad as 'Roosters ducklings'"
Mav’s face splits into a grin at that, “Oh, yeah? And who- pray tell- told them about that?"
Her eyes widen a fraction, face comical. She shrugs again, feigning nonchalance, but doing it very poorly, "Guess it was just word of mouth" she says, mouth twitching and threatening to break her wavering composure, "you know how rumours fly round here, Mav" she grins at her own pun.
"Uh huh. Too bad rumours can also get you temporarily grounded" he counters with a sly tilt of his head, and doesn't miss the momentary spark of panic that fleets across her eyes. He waves her worry off with a snort, "I'm just kidding"
"C'mon Mav, it's just a bit of fun- A part of me even thinks the Cap secretly likes us messing with him" Her words are cunning, just a tad hopeful, and incredibly naive.
Mav's look is very disbelieving, "I wouldn't bet on it"
There's a short pause in their conversation, in which Mav quickly checks to see if Hangman and Phoenix has been listening to their "Friday-Talk". Hangman, on the occasion that he's present, always listens in- so there's no doubt there that he'd head every word. That, and the shit-eating grin he's currently wearing gives it away. No Paperwork is that funny. Phoenix however, actually appears as though she's working, but there's an upward pull to the side of her mouth that makes him believe she'd been secretly eavesdropping too.
He glances back to the girl, who's fiddling about with the spilt pen-pot from earlier, arranging all his stationary tools back neatly, and brushing some stray pencil shavings off the desk and into the waste basket below her dangling legs.
"So, What are you gonna do when he finds out it was you who set this whole ‘duck’-thing up?" He asks as he watches her perform her little task. She looks up at him, eyes glinting.
"You seem pretty positive that it was me"
"I know it was you" he replies with full confidence, "Judy Dawson: great flyer, bad liar"
She laughs at that, cheeks turning a blush-pink as she dips her head, "Okay" she mumbles, "so maybe you can sus me out-" then her lips wriggle into a new smirk, "but Captain Bradshaw can't" she confident in her words, which has Mav easing his brows up at her.
"You underestimate him"
"And you underestimate me" she tennis' back to him, her smile wider now, confident, "trust me, Mav. he's not clever enough to figure it out"
He smirks too, “Maybe not” and she watches, grin falling as his eyes slide to a point just beyond her left shoulder, "but he's nosey enough"
Dodger whips her head round so fast that Mav swears he hears the bones in her neck pop.
Rooster had reappeared in the doorway without her knowledge, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, looking particularly prickly.
"I should've KNOWN-" he starts.
"Now, Listen Cap-" she begins to stutter, slowly shuffling off the top of Mav's desk when her Captain begins to advance into the room, "it's all good fun- no one got hurt!" She pleads her case, growing nervous as the man steps closer.
"Tell that to my pounding headache" he growls, and then, "You're dead, Dawson"
She's off in blur, barrelling around the desks and out the door before Mav can even blink, Rooster hot on her tail moments later, shouting after her. Mav can’t quite make out what he’s saying, only that it had something to do with ‘making her do push-ups till her arms fall off’.
A stunned silence hangs in the office for a long few seconds afterwards, as three people stare out the now empty doorway, listening to the sound of heavy running footsteps fade out into the distance.
"Oof" Hangman says, breaking the quiet with a low whistling sound, "now that's a mama Duck I wouldn't wanna' cross"
Chapter 8: Family Fights
Notes:
Just a small warning for this chapter!: contains mentions of Racism and discriminative behaviour from a background character.
Hound-Dog- 25 ( Tyrell "Hound-Dog" Davis)
Checkers- 25 ( Gray "Checkers" McKinney)
Rickroll - 27 ( Nick "Rickroll" Avalone)
Guild- 28 ( Mackenzie "Guild" Doyle)
Twix- 23 (Charlie "Twix" Roe)
Dodger- 18 ( Judy "Dodger" Dawson)(Just putting this here because original characters can be confusing to keep up with)
Chapter Text
It was a mid-week day in late September, where the soft, Miramar sun was beginning to set, and the evening was slowly settling in. During this hour, Judy Dawson could either be found relaxing in the relatively quiet Rec-room, tagging about with Hondo whilst he overseen jet-maintenance (this time, making sure to keep her distance), or studying quietly in her bunk.
But tonight she had different plans.
Herself and her squad-mates had just finished a particularly gruelling flight-day, and according to the boys, we're all in desperate need of a drink. Judy refrained from rolling her eyes; they usually said as much after most flight-days. This time round, however, they'd offhandedly extended the invitation to her, with Twix turning to her on the taxiway and asking if she wanted to 'tag along for the ride'. Judy had stopped dead in her tracks at the words, wide brown eyes flitting up from the floor to spot five expectant faces staring back at her.
"...What?" Was her delayed murmur, mouth gaping.
Her chest gave a little hopeful flutter as she was asked again if she wanted to join them, and she'd tried not too sound all too eager when she'd replied with an easy, "Sounds great, I'm in!". Granted, a small part of her remained slightly skeptical as the group made their way from base and headed downtown- as even though her relationship with her squad-mates had improved since Roosters interference a few weeks back, they were still known to tease their youngest member at any given chance they could. Nevertheless, her thoughts were chased away when the eldest of the group, Guild, checked behind his shoulder and spotted her falling behind the group. "Hey, Slow poke!" He called, whistling sharply for good measure, "get a move on, or we'll leave you behind"
She managed a small grin at the heatless jibe, before quickening her pace to catch up.
The smile stayed on her face the entire walk to the Hard-deck, and her sunny mood didn't dare falter even when she found herself retracing her steps across the beach, briefly transporting herself back to the other week when two drunken men had tried to accost her. She stubbornly shook her head to rid the memory from her mind, and trudged on up the decking behind the gaggle of young men.
There was only one, small issue however that made her pace slow and her heart quicken, as the group ambled on up to the side door of the bar;
Last time she checked, legal drinking age in America was still twenty-one. And bars didn't accept anyone less than that inside after certain hours.
She, of course, had voiced these same concerns to the boys, who'd shrugged dismissively and said, "just sneak in behind us, it'll be too packed for anyone to notice"
So that was what she did, using the tall, broad bodies of her team to hide behind as she shuffled past the threshold and into the bar. Or rather, that was what she attempted to do, until-
"-Woah woah, hold up here"
Judy winced at the call, that was so very clearly addressed to her. Several of her squad members heard it too, and glanced down at the girl with shit eating grins on their faces. It was Penny, the owner of The Hard Deck, who'd spoken. Any hope She had of walking into the bar unnoticed vanished in a puff of smoke with the lady's words.
She turned, finding said woman eyeing her up suspiciously, though her eyes shone with barely concealed amusement. "Roosters squad, right?" She asked, satisfied when six heads nodded back in reply, "He told me one of his students was under the legal drinking age" she continued, before pointing a finger and glaring jokingly at her, "that you?"
Judy blanched, and visibly wilted under the woman's watchful eyes. "Would you kick me out of I said 'yes'?"
The woman continued to squint at her for a moment longer, before the act fell. "Nah" she said, "I just wouldn't be able to serve you- And you five-!" She cut herself off, motioning to the boys behind her who were already eyeing up the pool table. The all looked up innocently, acting as though they hadn't been hanging onto the entire conversation- watching and waiting to see if the younger pilot would be kicked out the bar (ready to tease her for it later if she was)
"I don't wanna see any of you buying drinks for her, understood?" Penny warned, to which they all scoffed at.
"Psh. Don't worry, Ma'am" Checkers says with a small snort, "I'm not wasting my money on her" he weaves past the group, heading straight for the designated 'games-area'of the bar.
Dodger scowls after the man, before Hound wraps an arm over her shoulder and pulls her into a headlock, startling her.
"I'll buy you a drink, Dodger" He tips in as he ruffles her hair, his tone far too friendly to be genuine. Judy smelled a catch, and threw him a suspicious look beneath the wispy brown locks that had fallen out her ponytail and into her face.
"What's your poison? Capri-sun?"
"Funny" she replies, tone clipped, frowning at the small gaggle of snickering boys. Hound releases her, and skirts round the side of the bar to the pool table too. He picks a cue up, twirling it in his palms like he was trying to light a fire with it, before turning back to Penny- "Five bottles of Budweiser, five tequila shots, and a glass of water, please" then he grins, all charm and says, "I'm paying"
"Coming right up"
"See, Dodger?" He calls, eyes following her as she approaches their claimed space around the pool table. "told ya I'd buy you a drink"
"The waters free, asshole"
He grins, dark eyes glinting, and pops her on the head with the end of the cue-stick. "I think the words you're looking for are 'thank you, Hound'"
"Dodger?" Pennys voice sounds from the bar again, and Judy spins at the questioning call of her name. She sees the woman's face light up with recognition, "Ah, so you're the infamous Judy Dawson"
Dodger blinks, and stupidly points a hand to her own chest. "I'm infamous?"
"In my household you are" She replies with a smirk that instantly reminds Dodger of Amelia- and the phrase 'like mother, like daughter' pops into the girls head following that thought. She watches as Penny ducks down below the bar to retrieve some beers from the fridge, before reappearing and placing them up on the bar-top. She tilts her head at the girl, and continues, "which, from what I've heard, you've stayed a night in?"
Judy feels herself blush, and begins to quickly stammer out an excuse, "Ah, yeah- uh, 'couple weekends back there was an incident and-"
"Hey" the woman reassures her in a smooth tone that makes the young pilot feel remarkably at ease. "It's all good, kid-no need to explain yourself. I was just ticked I'd missed out on meeting you" then she smiles, "Mav's told me a lot about you- and your flying. He says you've got potential, kid" she throws her an impressed look, brows reaching for her hairline. "and he doesn't just say that about anyone, y'know"
Judy feels her heart soar at the idea of Mav speaking so fondly about her of all people. But then, just as quickly, it plummets- and a melancholic feeling sinks deep into the pit of her stomach.
Mav had mentioned her, sure, but what about Captain Bradshaw? He lived under the same roof as her too, right? How come this woman had heard more about her from Mav than from her own Captain?
As quick as the thought enters her head she's just as swiftly shaking it away, thinking foolishly of herself for even entertaining such silly notions. Who was she to feel upset that she wasn't Roosters subject of conversation at the dinner table? She wasn't anyone important to him; just another name to tick off on the class register.
"My kid Amelia filled me in about you too" Penny follows, and that fuzzy little feeling that had been snuffed out by thoughts of her broody Captain returned like the strike of a match- rejuvenating the light inside her instantly. She smiles. At least it was safe for her to assume that one of Mav's kids liked her.
Her question is borderline rhetorical, yet brimming with hope. "She did?"
"Yeah. She thinks you're pretty cool" Penny replies, grabbing a glass from the rack overhead and filling it with water.
"Wow" Dodger coos softly, actually stunned. "I mean, I think she's way cooler than me- but tell her I said 'thanks' anyway"
"She's usually here most nights" the woman retorts, lining the glass beside the beers and a small tray of five shot glasses. Dodger winces at the pitiful sight- just a few more years and she'll be swapping the water for something stronger. Just maybe not beer, is her afterthought, that shit reeks.
"You should swing by when you're free and tell her yourself" Penny continues, pouring the shots with skilful ease. "I think She'd like having another girl her age around here"
Dodger feels genuinely touched by the offer, "Thanks, I will"
The woman spares her one last soft smile, before her eyes fall on a spot over her shoulder. She shouts, "Hey, Elvis-boy!"
Dodger hears a loud sigh behind her, and squashes down the laugh that tries to crawl out her mouth.
"It's Hound-Dog" Hound calls back with a grunt, passing his cue over to Rick so he can take the next shot.
"Point proven" Penny retorts with a good-natured grin to show she was joking, before pointing to the line of beverages on the bar. "Your drinks, King of Rock"
He snorts at her words, shaking his head, before grabbing as many bottles he could carry and motioning for Dodger to help with the rest. She passes the drinks onto the boys, who distractedly thank her, too focused on the game taking place, before scurrying back to grab her own glass. She stops when she gets there, and gives an amused look to the barmaid when she spots some new additions to her plain water.
"I put a lemon slice and some fruit in it to make it all fancy lookin'" Penny explains, and this too gets a laugh and a shake of the head out of the girl. She blushes, and thanks her, before the woman shoo's her away with a departing 'go keep them boys out of trouble'.
"You're up, Twix" Dodger hears Checkers call in between a long sip of beer, "we need this win man- please, don't fuck it up"
Judy watches from the side, tucked up along the back windows, perches her glass of water atop the sill, keeping a close eye on the drink as she watches the boys play their game of pool.
"Why?" She asks him when he circles round the table and passes her by, "what's on the cards?"
"Twenty bucks" he says, and she laughs.
"That's not so ba-"
"-Evenin' Boys" a new voice cuts in, and all players pause to spot another group of aviators sauntering up to their area of the bar. It was the front-man who spoke; a tall, vainly-handsome looking man who Dodger recognised as one of Captain Seresin's students. One glance behind him to the rest of the group informed her that the rest of Hangman's squad was out tonight too.
The same man takes one sharp look at Judy stood off to the side, lookin smaller than ever, and grins wolfishly.
"Are we on babysitting duty this evening, fellas?" He mocks, shifting his attention back to the boys to level them with a taunting smile.
Dodger unconsciously edges her way closer to the table, and thus the boys, who stand tall and imposing, and feels a lot more secure now being only a few arm lengths away from either of them. She watches Hound as he broadens his stance in the presence of the advanced-level aviators; sizing them up.
"What's this, Lynx?" He asks the front-man, eyes glinting deviously. "Seniors night out?"
The middle-man, Lynx (Dodger didn't need to guess how he got his sign- the man reeked of cheap aftershave) bites the inside of his cheeks as he forces a constipated-looking grin. "I'm thirty-two"
"Oof" Hound hoots sympathetically, clucking his teeth at him in jest. "you're gettin’ on pal. next you'll be struttin' in here with a zimmer-frame"
Lynx blinks, working his jaw- but elects to ignore the taunts being tallied back to him. Dodger smirks despite herself; turns out the guy can happily dish out the remarks, but he can't take them in return.
"So" Lynx continues, drawing out the word as he slowly works up a brutal smile once again. Dodger spots Twix roll his eyes from the other end of the pool table, and feels much the same way about this guy. "How's Bradshaw's little rookies been finding their first term? What was it you've been calling your squad again, Tyrell?" He asks Hound, before turning to the rest of them, "The Ducks?"
A few of the men behind him start laughing, mimicking duck noises as they join in with picking on the less experienced group of trainees. "quack quack quack" they chorus, and Dodger catches eyes with Guild, and both share an equally unimpressed look.
"'Hope you boys haven't been struggling too much" Lynx continues with fake concern, eyeing the entire group up one-by-one, picking them apart with his predatory gaze. "The last thing you guys need is to fall behind in the field. You know how it can be, carrying all that extra weight" he looks to Judy at this, his sharp gaze making her stomach clench uncomfortably. His words are like daggers, they slice into her skin, and even though he should ignore it, she can't help but feel the impact of every word. Is that how the boys thought of her? Baggage?
"The kids been pulling her weight just fine" Rickroll speaks up, giving the man a dangerous look as he crosses his arms over his chest defensively, "thanks for caring"
But Lynx doesn't pay him any mind, he's still looking at Judy. "How old are you again?"
"She's eighteen" Twix answers for her, chiming in and greeting the group with his own steely gaze.
"I was asking the girl, Chocolate-bar boy" he snaps, and this time his eyes flicker back to the group, breathing out a startled laugh when he spots them stepping closer to their squad, faces drawn down into perfectly matching scowls.
"Look at this" he says to his friends, brows raised and giving a mock-impressed nod, "Little Miss has got you well trained" and then he looks at her again, and the grin fades from his face, "Think you're tough when you got your bodyguards around, hm?"
Tyrell is stepping into his space next, so close that Judy's heart leaps into her throat when she fears that her often reckless and impulsive squad-mate might start something he can't finish on his own.
"What's the matter, Lynx?” He jeers into the man's face, "Scared a girl almost half your age is already better at your job than you"
Lynx sneers back at Hound, teeth glinting, "little girls don't scare me"
Hound smirks knowingly, and makes himself just that little bit taller as he says, "But you seem pretty intent on scaring her, so why don't you do us a favour and back off"
"Come on now, Ground-hog" the older man scoffs derisively, "we ain't bitin’ for real- it's all fun and games"
This has Hound scowling, the act dropping out of him like a dead weight, "Well, we ain't playing. so I suggest you turn your cheap-cologne-smelling-ass around, and leave"
There's a strong pause, as each group observes the conflict taking place between the two men, wondering who will make the next move. Lynx glares at Hound, long and hard, and Judy's frightened he might suddenly throw a punch at the man for his comment. But he merely licks his lips, shakes his head, and takes a step back. He hold his hands up, conceding, and turns away, his squad parting to make room for him.
"Damn, guess some people can't take a joke, huh fellas?" She hears him mutter to his group as they take their leave, "Ignorant fucking-"
And then Dodger hears him utter a word that has the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and the blood in her veins freeze on point.
It was a slur, one she'd first heard as a kid, watching an old movie with her dad, who'd immediately warned her that it wasn't ever to be repeated. Yet here, the very same word had just been directed towards one of her squad-mates. It was spoken with malice, spat from his mouth like it were poisonous, syllables smacking harshly against his teeth on the way out.
She was old enough to understand the term now- the definition behind each uncomfortably composed vowel and consonant, jumbled together to make rude reference to an individuals skin colour.
She needn't guess who the words were directed to- having enough common sense to know that Hound was the only squad member who's deeply tanned skin differed most from her own. She watches the man in question, sees her squad-mate freeze, his entire posture changing in an instant. He goes rigid like a board, and she knows that he'd heard the word too.
She wonders if he'll say something, he has every right to say something, he should say something. She waits for the proud man to defend himself with a witty comeback, or perhaps even a harsh punch to the face. But he just clenches his fists and sets his jaw, watching as the group turn their backs and begin to walk away.
Red tints Dodgers vision, blinds her of sense, and a wave of fury blisters her blood. The bubbling rage is enough to fuel her into action before she can even comprehend what she's done.
She clambers up onto the pool table, grabbing one of the empty beer-bottles that sits invitingly on its edge, and clears the green (or in this tables' case, the Blue) in milliseconds, playing-balls scattering beneath her quick footsteps. Using her new height to its advantage, she wields the bottle by its neck and swings- glass shattering over the top of the retreating pilots head as it strikes her target.
There's a moment of stillness, as several gasps ring out and multiple heads turn to watch in shock, before all hell breaks loose.
A hand grabs her by the scruff of her shirt and tugs her down off the table, where her legs fumble to keep herself upright as shes roughly handled back to the ground. The hand relinquishes it's hold on her however, when Tyrell's fist flies over her head and connects with their owners jaw. She hears the gentleman who'd grabbed her cry out in pain, before falling to the floor. Hounds shouting at the fallen man, warning him to 'keep his fucking hands to himself', when Lynx attempts a swing at him from behind. However, his efforts are intercepted, and he's non-too-nicely yanked into a headlock by Checkers, who swoops into the fight without a second thought- the rest of the boys close behind.
The next thirty-seconds are both terrifying and exhilarating. Judy spends the majority of it avoiding many punches being thrown overhead, some even pointed her way- whilst the boys give just as good back, punching, kicking, clawing and fighting to defend their squad-mates.
There's a moment where a taller pilot heads for Twix, and Dodger sees her opportunity whilst his back is turned from her. She leaps, jumping onto the guys back and throwing her arms around his neck, pulling all of her weight backwards so he's forced to follow or suffer choking. She manages to drag the guy away from Twix, before a stray elbow from the scrap jabs roughly into her rib, and she loosens her grip with a winded gasp.
A hand falls around her military-standard ponytail and pulls, hard. Amidst the pain flaring around her scalp, Dodger manages an aimlessly kick, feels her boot land against someone's shin, and is unable to smother the small sense of pride when she hears a pained 'oof' follow her hit. She blinks, and sees a fist heading straight for her face.
The hand in her hair is yanked away, and soon after so is she. She fights the pull and attempts a swing into the crowd, but a pair of strong hands grab her, stopping her in motion. One arm straps across her shoulder whilst her other clasps around her middle- effectively trapping her hands too. She's hauled off her feet and pulled away from the fight.
Dodger struggles against the firm hold, panic seizing her as she tries with all her might to wriggle free. She goes for another kick, striking shin again, which no doubt must hurt- but her captor doesn't relinquish their hold on her.
"Let me go!" She grunts angrily, thrashing like a wild animal in a trap. "Let me go, you fucker!"
There's a voice by her ear, tone angry but familiar, and Judy feels like a bucket of ice has been thrown over her head;
"Yeah, well, this fucker just stopped you from getting your head caved in" Growls the Captain, her Captain, his words dousing the fire in her and stealing her next breath. Her head whips across the room to find the dog-pile quickly dispersing, as several other higher-officials- including Captain Mitchell and Captain Seresin -jump in to defuse the fight, grabbing the nearest aviator and pulling them away before they could go for another punch.
"Break it off, now!" Rooster shouts over her head to the rest of the group, "or I'll have all your asses suspended before tomorrow morning"
"That includes you, Miss Dawson" he snaps in her ear, before giving her a firm shake; and as if by magic, she goes limp in his hold, all the adrenaline drained out of her at the mention of suspension.
The buzzing behind her ears settles, til all that's left is the sounds of her ragged breathing, mixed together with Captain Bradshaws own angry puffs. She distantly hears Penny ushering her customers out the bar, and feels an overwhelming sense of guilt crash over her. She hangs her head to the floor in shame.
Rooster releases her, presses a hand to the space between her shoulder blades and pushes her toward the nearest chair that hasn't been smashed to bits during the fight.
"Sit" he orders none too politely. "While I go round up the other Ducks"
she obeys, withering under the disappointed look he casts her before turning away from her completely, and tries incredibly hard not to burst into tears on the spot.
There's broken shards beneath her boots, and small specs of blood on her laces. The image alone sobers her.
What on earth had she done?
"What the hell was that all about?!"
The group were sat in a row, heads hung to the floor, neither daring to look at their enraged Captain as he paced purposely back and forth in the now empty Bar.
Penny and Maverick stood off to the side, neither looking at all impressed. Hangman had long left with his own students, no doubt ready to drill into them when he returned them to the base.
Rooster stopped to stand before the few members of his squadron, eyes flickering sternly back and forth between them all as he fought to keep his wavering composure.
"You know how embarrassing that was for me?" He asked to no one in particular, though each student felt the weight of his words, six sets of shoulders sagging in shame. "To have to break up a fight between my students, in a crowded, very public bar?” he roared, emphasising each word so they cut through the room like a dagger. "after school hours?!"
No one said a word, no one even dared to move, all of them had their eyes trained on the floor that still contained several shards of broken glass. Shame welled in their throats at the mess they'd caused, a mess that penny would no doubt spend a long time having to clean up. Or maybe their Captain would order them to clean up the bar- that, at-least, was the less guilty option.
"I think I deserve to know exactly what happened, don't you?" Bradley spoke, his voice dangerously low, managing to evoke a serious amount of discomfort in the aviators sat directly under his nose.
"Anyone care to explain?" He asked, boots clicking sharply across the floor as he paced, "Anyone?"
Dodger watched helplessly as his shoes came to rest infront of her, and felt his piercing gaze baring down over the top of her head. She glanced up momentarily, caught sight of his face, and quickly averted her eyes in defeat.
"I know you started it" Her Captain said, scowling down at her, despite her purposely refusing to meet his gaze. "I wanna know why"
The girl stayed silent.
Rooster felt his patience break, "You look at your Captain when he addresses you- do I make myself clear?!"
All heads immediately snapped up to meet him, expressions steeled, but the underlying shock was evident in all of their eyes. Dodgers mouth hung open slightly, lips parted in a silent gasp.
A small chorus of 'Yes,Sir' followed his shout, bar Judy, who was too stunned to produce a single syllable. Rooster was always fair with his students, and although he'd been pretty snappy with them in the past, he had never once raised his voice to them in that kind of manner before. This was frightening to say the least.
They'd really fucked up.
"Answer my question, Judy Dawson" he said, voice hard and very far beyond reprimanding, the use of her full name striking a chord deep in Dodgers chest that had her (quite embarrassingly) blinking back shameful tears. "Why did you smash a glass bottle over another aviators head?"
"He was asking for it" was her muted answer. One that didn't appease her Captain at all.
"You're asking for it right now, but you don't see me swinging bottles 'round the place" he snapped, making the girl flinch slightly at both the tone of his voice, and the threat behind his words. A threat that didn't go unnoticed by the other occupants of the room, who exchanged cautious looks between one another- Mav and Penny included. Neither of them had seen Rooster this angry in a long time.
Bradley ignored the looks he received, his attention focused solely on the girl. He exhaled through his nose and leaned down slightly, lowering himself to her level- but this only made him feel more intimidating to the gaggle of students. "Now" he said through clenched teeth, "show some respect, and answer my question properly"
Judy shook her head, fighting back her own frustration. He didn't understand, she had to do it, She had to stand up for her squad. This wasn't fair. The girl set her jaw and looked into Roosters eyes, face stubborn and steeled into a deep frown that matched his own perfectly. "He was asking for it" she repeated, punctuating every syllable.
Rooster blinked twice at her, searching her face long and hard for a good few moments- before exhaling sharply and straightening back up, continuing on with his brutal pacing.
"Hound" he said after a pause, causing the man sat beside Judy to snap to attention, "I was told you threw the next punch. Why?"
"Sir, another member of Captain Seresin's squad tried to grab Dodger. I had to defend her"
"Oh, You had to." Rooster repeats carefully, mockingly, eyeing the two aviators- one of which was still glaring defiantly up at him. "again, Why?"
"Cause she defended me first" Hound said, chancing a grateful look at the youngest squad member.
"They made a comment about- um- well, me, sir" he continued, coughing awkwardly and scratching a hand into his short curls as a nervous gesture. "Words I would rather not have to repeat"
The room needn't know what was said, they understood from Hounds reaction that it couldn't have been anything good. Several jaws clenched together in unison, angry eyes swinging towards the door where the other aviators had left from.
"Dodger heard it, though" He continued quietly, watching nervously as his Captains eyes flickered back to girl, an entire cascade of emotion rippling through them despite the rest of his features remaining entirely resolute. "She had my back"
Judy felt Hounds larger hand slip into hers, squeezing it for a beat- as if he were pouring all his thanks into the small motion- before dropping their hands again. It was a quick, simple gesture-but coming from him it meant the world. Judy's chest blossomed with warmth, and she was so choked with emotion that she almost forgot how to breathe. If she had any worries about being seen as Baggage or additional weight earlier, that action alone had reassured her completely; she belonged in their squad.
"Is that true, Dodge?" Maverick asked from across the room, peeling himself away from the bar he'd been leaning against. The girls head snaps over at his call, face softening a fraction. She nods.
"’Your squad is your family’" She recites after a small pause, her answer striking a chord in the room, all inhabitants looking to her at the bold declaration. She turns back to her Captain, stony face set once again, whilst he stares down at her in surprise. "Didn't you tell us that, Sir?"
Bradley was floored.
On one half he was absolutely furious, ready to dish out the worst punishments he could think of to his entire squad. But, he also couldn't help to notice the small niggling sense of pride he felt blossoming at the girls words, and the way they lit up the eyes of every student. If there was anything positive to take away from this night it would be that his squad had become significantly closer from it.
He pressed his lips together in a straight line, as they fought over whether to twitch down into a frown or pull up into a smile.
"That's right" he eventually whispers back, voice low, moustache prickling.
"He messed with our squad" Checkers pipes up from the other end of the line, causing several heads to swivel to find him. "I'm with Dodge; he was asking for it"
"You know what they say, Sir" Guild hums, his head still low, but his voice strong and sure, "Birds of a feather-..."
He trails off into a bashful mumble as the sureness leaves him like a song in the wind, but everyone needn't hear his words to understand where he was taking his profound statement, or the meaning behind it.
The silence finishes for him, whispering it back into the room;
-Flock together.
Chapter 9: Roo’s Piano Lessons
Notes:
Just a short and sweet one this time! I think this is the shortest chapter I’ve written so far but I wanted to include it! enjoy
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"You lettin’ customers in before opening hours?”
Penny jumped at the voice, nearly dropping the pint glass she was polishing, and whirled round to follow the sound.
It was Bradley Bradshaw, ambling up to the bar, his questioning gaze focused on something just to the right of her shoulder. She follows the invisible line of his observant brown eyes and finds a young aviator sitting at the end of it. She smirks.
Dodger was at the old wooden piano, tinkering softly with the keys in an attempt to teach herself to produce a melody that didn’t sound like a complete mess. Which it currently did.
"Just this one" Penny replies, and Roosters eyes move to her, curiosity growing. “She comes in to spend time with Amelia"
"Amelia?" He asks, and the woman nods.
“They’ve hung out here a few times- both get on pretty well" she says, casting a twinkling look over to the girl, as she leans up again the bar, Rooster following suit on the other side as both watch the oblivious girl. “They're the only kids around here that are close in age, so its nice Amelia has a friend on-base"
"Speaking of" Rooster says, and glances around to try and spot the girl in question, frown deepening when he doesn’t see her, “Where is she?"
Penny remains propped up against the bar, but she’s gone back to her previous task of glass polishing, wordlessly sliding a glass and rag over to him with a muttering of ‘make yourself useful, Captain’.
He scowls, but dutifully picks up the cloth and starts polishing as Penny answers him, “She had to stay a few hours after school. Something about her Spanish teacher making them study for tests after Christmas-break" she shrugs, but her eyes narrow as she glances up at Rooster, making him believe the girl had possibly lied to her mother. To him, it sounded more like Amelia had been held back for a detention rather than willingly stayed for a group study session.
“I told Judy she could hang about till she got back"
She watches the girl, but suddenly her gaze turns a touch sad, and she looks down at the glass in her hands instead. “She’s been here quite a bit since the bar fight” she explains to him and Rooster shifts uncomfortably at the reminder of the incident. “askin if I need help, doing some jobs for me in her spare time- kids way of saying ‘sorry’, I guess”
The man clenches his jaw, his polishing growing more forceful as the memory of walking into the bar to see his entire squad in the middle of a scrap appears at the forefront of his mind. “Yeah, well, she should be sorry” he grumbles, sighing when Penny takes the pint from him before he could break it. His anger deflates when he recalls the moment one of the opposing pilots had grabbed Dodger by the hair, his other arm rearing back to aim a punch, and the fearful look on the girls face when the fist headed towards her. He’d never leapt across a room so quickly in his life.
“Don’t be so hard on her” Penny’s voice cuts in, softly reminding him, “kids make mistakes- this won’t be the last time one of your students gets themselves into trouble, Rooster” She smirks when he mumbles something under his breath, placing the cloth down on the bar-top, glancing back over to the girl at the piano.
“Look at Mav, he’s still running round after you and the Daggers- perks of being a Captain” she continues, and he throws her a defensive look. The retort falls quickly from his lips,
“Most of the daggers are overseas at the moment, so it’s not like he’s got his hands full” he says, and scowls, “I have six”
She laughs at this, and whacks him with her own cloth good-naturedly. “Maybe not” she agrees, grinning at his affronted look, before her voice drops and her brows follow suit, scrunching together to give the gentleman a serious look. “but that doesn’t affect him any less. He still worries himself sick when you’re all gone”
Roosters scowl twitches, looking a touch guilty.
“you’re his birds” she continues, voice incredibly soft as she places a hand over his folded arms, that now rest heavily against the bar. Her other hand releases the cloth to rest on his stubbly cheek, smoothing away the worried lines that mottle his face. “And now, they’re your ducks” she finishes, head motioning over to the lone little duck say a few paces away.
Rooster leans into the motherly action slightly, a soft ghost of a smile grazing his lips. He gives her grateful look, and she gives him one last encouraging pat on the arm, before pulling away to carry on with her jobs. She grabs him a beer on the way to the fridge, and he thanks her. The first cold sip hits his parched mouth, and he hums appreciatively at feel of the slightly fruity drink as it floods his tastebuds.
His eyes fall back to the kid, the woman’s previously reassuring words soaking into him at the same pace as the alcohol does. He continues to sit there for a long moment, before blinking over at her as though he was now only just aware she was in the room. A delayed symphony of jumbled notes ring out into the empty bar as she plays, the noise sounding flat and very unappealing in the air. Bradley frowns, tilts his head, and asks, “What’s she doing?”
Penny glances his way, and scoffs, “Learning the piano, Captain obvious"
"Coulda fooled me" he replies, wincing at the loud squeal of keys, and then louder, “Sounds like she's murdering a cat"
He thinks the joke will get a rise from the kid, but she doesn't appear as though she heard him or even acknowledge his presence, still fumbling about with the piano.
"Be nice" Penny chides, giving her figurative-son a warning look. “Not everyone is as musically gifted as you, Mr 'unplug the jukebox every Saturday night'"
She sees him bite his lip beneath the bronzed moustache, “Don't act like you don't love it, Pen"
She shakes her head, a wry grin threatening her own lips. "just like your dad" she mutters.
Bradley smirks, "Which one?"
"Both" she says, laughing outrightly. "it's terrifying"
He finds himself chuckling too, taking a long sip of his drink as their conversation wades into a healthy silence. One that unfortunately didn't last long enough, as the brief quiet was quickly interrupted by an ugly symphony of piano keys being mashed down by angry fingers, followed by a long, frustrated huff.
Penny gives him a pointed look, before playfully jutting her chin in the instruments direction. She’s thankful when the young man takes the hint, and peels himself away from the bar with a short sigh, taking his drink with him.
Another garbled melody hits the room, followed by another angry grunt, and incessant mutterings of ‘stupid freakin old ass piano-‘
"Don't think I've heard that composition before"
The girl jumps at the sound of her Captains voice, so concerned with the instrument that she hadn’t heard him approaching.
"It's new" she retaliates cooly, peeling her eyes away from the ivory keys to look up at him. “I call it 'How to sound like your murdering a cat" she spares him a pointed look. Ah, he thinks mid-sip of his beer, so she had heard him.
Rooster scoffs in reply, and places his drink down on the nearest table, before making a 'shoo' motion at her. "Scooch over” he said. The girl eyed him curiously for a moment, before complying and shuffling to the side. He took his place on the bench next to her, seat so small that their elbows bumped together as his own hands hovered instinctively above the keys.
"Now you know the difference between notes and chords right?" He asked the air, not being able to help himself and giving the ivories a small tickle of a tune- sounding far better than anything the girl had produced. His question was met with silence, causing him to turn back to his student.
She blinks up at him, face twitching in confusion. A clear ‘No’.
Guess we’re beginning with the basics then, he muses.
"Chords are left" he says, grabbing her left hand and positioning her fingers over the correct keys. "And the right is for the melody" he adjusts the fingers of her right hand too, before acutely glancing back to her, "with me so far?" He asks, the edges of his ‘Cap voice’ (as dubbed by the girl) beginning to slip through.
The girl nods sharply, eyeing her hands with a determined scrunch of her brows. Rooster fights the urge to grin.
He teaches her the notes first, watching as the fingers of her right hand press each key with hesitancy. She catches on quickly, and can soon recall each note and play it when he commands her to. All out of order, of course, he wasn't going to go easy on her.
"Good" he finds the praise slipping out his mouth easily, and feels the tendons in his heart clench when she glows at the compliment, flashing him a gracious grin, laughter tinkering. He spots Penny smiling fondly at them from the bar, and feels his cheeks heat up under her watchful eyes. He coughs to awkwardly clear his throat, and the tight sensation in his chest eases up at the action.
"What can you play?" Dodger says, rounding on him suddenly with a curious gaze.
Rooster blinks, leant over to take a sip of his drink, and turns back to her in surprise, “You wanna hear a song?"
"Yeah" she says, and this time she’s grabbing his hands to position them over the piano keys. He huffs in amusement, and she grins toothily across to him. “Show me what you got, Cap”
He scratches his head, and sighs, before conceding. He fiddles about for a few moments, creating a cascade of random, pretty sounding notes to warm-up his finger joints. And then, to her amusement, he began to play a very familiar tune.
She shakes her head as the chords for 'Hey Jude' begin to play out of the instrument, filling the air around them with the famous melody. How very fitting.
"Wow, so original" she calls above the noise with a roll of her eyes, but her face betrays her, pearly whites showing behind an easy smile as she positively beams at him. Rooster smirks in return, continuing to play, the girl beside him giggling in shock when he starts to sing very loudly.
"~You're waiting for someone to perform with" he chimed, voice echoing around the empty bar, causing Penny to pause mid-job and glance over at them again. He was purposely out of tune, voice grating and over-exaggerated to make the girl laugh more. Which she did with gusto, cheeks flaming in second-hand embarrassment when she spotted Penny openly laughing too.
"~And don't you know that it's just you!~" he croons, before nudging her shoulder playfully, purposely looking over at her and smirking broadly as he performs the next line, "~Hey Jude; you'll do".
Penny smiles warmly, glowing at the sight of the girls own face- which was positively radiant, her energy alone lighting up the entire room.
And then the two pilots are chorusing a loud, over the top screech of "Na-na-na's", keys bouncing with ferocity as Roosters hands slam down on them with passion. Their shoulders bump into each as they dramatically bop their heads together in time- the youngest’s singing broken up by her overwhelming laughter.
"What's going on in here?" A familiar voice calls to Penny’s left. She spins to find Maverick approaching the bar, looking over at the two screeching musicians with delight and just a touch of concern for their abused voice-boxes.
Penny smiles when he leans over the bar to plant a kiss on her cheek in greeting, making sure his phone stayed well away from the table-top as he quickly snapped a few photos of the two god-awful composers.
His fond smile brightens at the woman’s reply,
“Piano lessons”
Notes:
‘Hey Jude’ by the Beatles is now Judy’s song whether she likes it or not, and anyone who disagrees will have to take it up with Captain Bradshaw.
I wonder if the nickname “Jude” will catch on in future chapters to come 👀👀
Thanks for reading! Until next time!
Chapter 10: Fever
Summary:
Dodger falls ill, Mav ‘Dads’ his way through the chapter as usual, and poor Captain Rooster worries himself ragged over his youngest squad-ling.
Notes:
PLEASE ENJOY THIS LONG ASS CHAPTER. literally the longest chapter I think I’ve written so far.
(Also I wrote the majority of this at like 2 in the morning so if it reads weird it’s because I was severely sleep deprived)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"For this mornings warm-up, we'll be doing laps"
A collective groan issued out from the group following their Captains statement, and a small sea of unhappy faces stared back at Rooster, who grinned knowingly. Wickedly, almost.
The squad stood in a large field, the base a mere speck in the distance. Just the walk over to the field was enough to tire some of the groups members out. One in particular, was struggling to even lift her head against the glare of the early October sun.
Judy had woken that morning feeling slightly...off. Her head hurt and there was a growing ache behind the back of her eyes. Her legs felt wobbly and uncoordinated, like the ground she was standing on was moving beneath them. Something tickled at the back of her throat too, pulling a few strained coughs from her every few minutes.
Even her roommate, Mace, had noticed that she looked a little peaky this morning, watching the younger girl drag herself out of bed with a mildly concerned expression. "Dude" she'd said, standing in front of the mirror and wrestling her hair into a tight bun, "are you sure you're feeling okay?"
Judy had brushed her concerns off, before getting ready for the day herself- meeting her team and Captain out on the field for their morning exercise. She figured the fresh air would perk her up, anyway.
She'd been wrong.
The sun was pretty hot today considering they were edging their way into Californias winter months, and only grew hotter as the minutes pressed on. She pinned that down to the long heatwave that California had suffered all summer- the remnants of it still happily seeing them through to September and now into October too. There wasn't a single breeze either, the air still and sticky, making sweat accumulate quickly on her forehead.
"Ten laps around this field, you'll be running against the clock." Captain Bradshaw says, holding a stopwatch up in the air for everyone to see. "If anyone falls behind the stopwatch, you all have to do another lap"
This earned another unified groan, making Bradleys wicked grin grow wider. He panned his eyes across each member of the group, who all looked equally disgruntled at the prospect of the task. His eyes eventually fell on the groups youngest member, who had her gaze trained firmly on the ground.
Rooster frowned. "Dodger" he called. watching as her head slowly lifted to meet him. "Eyes up. Show some respect, please" he reprimanded evenly.
Judy managed a minute nod, and a small muttering of "yes, sir". She couldn't see his eyes, due to them being covered by a pair of sunglasses, but didn't fail to catch his lips purse in disapproval.
Rooster stared at her for several long, silent seconds, eyes narrowing behind his dark lenses- scrutinising. He felt his gut stir uncomfortably, his chest squeeze minutely- body trying to tell him that something wasn't quite right with his youngest mentee.
"Ooh. Dad's telling you off again, Dodger" Hound-dog lightly teased from the opposite end of the line, earning a few collective chuckles from the group- but no reaction from Dodge at all.
Rooster frowned and side-eyed Hound-dog, not fully taking his gaze away from Judy. "Hound" he said, gaining the young man's attention, before wordlessly pointing a finger to the grassy floor below. A silent, telltale gesture that everyone in the group instantly understood. 'Drop and do push-ups'.
Hound sighed, before dropping to the floor and doing as he was told.
Rooster waited for one of Dodger's witty quips, a silver-tongue retort, a quick-minded reply to her now disgruntled squad-mate, but the girl didn't so much as blink. Another anxious stab to the gut.
After a beat, Rooster turned his attention back to his group. "Okay team-" he said, mustering up his most 'Captain-i-est' voice that usually had Judy trying to smother her grins. Now, she stared blankly ahead of her, appearing as though she barely registered anything taking place (another warning sign that made Rooster feel like something wasn't quite right with the girl today), "Start moving".
He clicked his stopwatch, watching as the young recruits took off, running as fast as they could to catch up with the time that slowly ticked away in Roosters hand.
With slightly unsteady legs, Judy took off after her team, pushing herself despite her body begging her not to. In contrary to her height, her legs peddled quite quickly, and her small strides usually did well in keeping her up with the others. But today she was falling a little more behind, and soon she could hear Hound- who'd been held back finishing his push-ups- catching up with her.
The sun felt hotter than ever now on her back, and the dull ache that had started behind her eyes earlier on had now evolved to a harsh pounding against her retinas. In fact, her whole skull felt like it was being continuously pummelled by a sledge-hammer. She blinked a few times against the harsh light, noticing her vision beginning to swim in and out of focus with every exhale. Another tickle in her throat had her coughing into her sleeve, the motion only causing her head to throb even more.
She heard the Captain shouting something across the field to them, but there was a buzzing in her ears that was proving very difficult to make out what he was saying.
A small shove to the shoulder knocked her shaking legs off-course and she stumbled, falling face first into the ground and sliding across the mud-trodden grass. Hound had caught up with her.
This time, she was able to make out her captains concerned voice, (above the teasing - albeit, fond- laughter of her teammate), "Dodge! You good?"
Despite her aches and pains she managed to raise a single, shaky thumbs-up sign to him, before awkwardly getting back to her feet despite everything in her body telling her to stay down. With a few wobbles and groans of protest, Judy was back on two legs, charging after Hound.
He slowed his pace so she could catch up to him, and she promptly flipped him the bird when she did. He let out a breathy laugh, before scoffing.
"I didn't even push you that hard, Dodge" he said, legs falling into a perfectly structured running sequence, whilst Judy's were more like Bambi on ice. "The damn wind'd probably knock you over" he puffed.
She didn't reply, too focused on the ground in front of her, which continued to blur and twist in her vision. She felt that headache at full force now, the pain almost blinding her.
Completely unaware of this, Hound continued, "bet you can't make it back to Captain Bradshaw before I do". A bet. He was egging her on with a bet.
And despite how shitty Judy felt, it was working.
"What's in it for me?" She asks, voice breathy and words jumbling together from the exhaustion seeping into her like water soaking a sponge.
"Ten bucks" he says.
She must've agreed, because soon enough they were both picking up their pace, running more like their life depended on it rather than a few dollars.
Judy's legs burned for her to stop, muscles twinging in agony. She became acutely aware of her own ragged breath in her ears, drowning out the noise around her. Her mouth grew dry and a cough rattled up her throat, before her vision began to tunnel. One foot caught under the other, till both flew out from underneath her. She went slack, muscles switching off, unable to catch herself as she stumbled.
Her tunnelled vision blacked out completely before she hit the ground.
Hound-dog felt a laugh bubble up his throat when he heard Judy grunt from behind him, before a "thud" sound followed. Ouch. That landing must've hurt.
"Get up, Dodger" he called behind him, still running, whipping his head round to where she lay sprawled out on the ground. "We've all gotta' finish our laps"
He expected the girl to jump back to her feet like before, but she remained face down in the grass, unresponsive. Hound-dogs pace slowed considerably, till he spotted his captain sprinting across the field towards them, and he was screeching to a halt altogether.
He watched, dumbfounded, as Captain Bradshaw reached the girl, throwing himself down on his knees next to her, and pulling her lax body into his lap. Hound continued to observe quietly, stomach bubbling with growing anxiety, as he cradled her head in the crook of his arm, using the other to gently shake her shoulder.
"Dodge?" Rooster called, tapping her face lightly with the palm of his hand, trying to gain a response from her. "Dodger?" He called again, and a little louder, "Kid, can you hear me?"
At this point the entire group had come to a stand-still, watching from their respective places across the field as their Captain attended to their youngest member.
"Is she okay?" Hound heard himself ask, watching his captain grow slightly frantic. "She's not waking up" was Roosters reply, panic creeping its way into his voice, still trying to rouse the girl- albeit a bit more firmly this time. He placed the back of his hand to her forehead, then her cheek, then to the back of her neck. He repeated the process, aware of how flushed her skin was. Even though they were out in the sun, her core temperature was exceedingly hotter than it should be.
"She's burning up" he said, and then, "Im taking her to the infirmary"
Without hesitation, Rooster placed one large arm around her back and the other under her legs, before lifting the girl up into his arms. Her head, as limp as the rest of her body, rolled back against his chest, finding its place between the point where his neck met with his shoulder. He glanced down warily at her, giving her a quick once over, before setting his jaw and making his move across the field.
Remaining cautious not to jostle his new cargo, he set out for the hangars in the distance, brisk steps breaking into a steady jog when his growing panic kicked it up a notch.
He heard a cluster of footsteps running behind him, and spared a glance over his shoulder to see his team dutifully following him- The group lead by Hound.
They reached the facility quicker than expected, due to Roosters anxious speed, bumping into Maverick halfway down a long hallway. The man stopped on sight, cheerful gaze falling away into shock at the unconscious girl in his sons grasp, a million questions already falling from his mouth. The main one being "what happened?!"
Rooster found himself unable to reply to the man, head too busy whirring away with panicked thoughts as the girls burning forehead dug into the small crook between his neck and shoulder, reminding him that she was far too warm, and was only getting uncomfortably hotter by the second. Not that he thought he could form any words presently, noting the furious ache behind his ribs where the unconscious girl nestled close- stealing the air, and thus his means of speech, from him completely.
The group, plus Mav, round the corner and through the doors of the infirmary in record time, and soon the Captain was being ordered by a nurse to set his student down on the nearest examination table. The strain in his arms eased significantly as he set her down, yet the glaring pain in his chest wasn't so quick to disperse.
The nurse, a woman in her early thirties if Rooster had to take a guess, asked him the very same questions Mav had- but this time he was thankfully able to form a more coherent string of words.
She then rounded on the rest of Roosters students, trying vainly to shoo them out from the small side-room, only to huff and shake her head in frustration when neither men budged, insisting they would be quiet and stay out of her way. Their promises seemed to suffice the lady, who wordlessly waved them off before turning her attention back to her patient. Though he temporarily couldn't voice it, Bradley was grateful his boys had chosen to stay, feeling the support for their littlest squad-ling rolling off them in waves and rippling round the room like a fortified barrier.
It was here where Bradley knew for sure that despite their incessant teasing and outward complaints towards the kid, those boys would do just about anything to ensure her safety;
In the sky, and on the ground.
As soon as he'd comfortably lay Judy down on the bed/table, the nurse set to work, pushing Bradley aside to run several tests on the prone girl. At one point Mav had to tug Bradley away from the exam table, the dazed man stumbling backwards, unaware that he'd been standing in the way of the woman. He heard himself mutter an apology, both to the lady and Mav, but otherwise his gaze was firmly set on his student.
That was until the nurse began making soft tutting noises, shaking her head again, before swiftly rounding on him with an icy glare.
"Your girl has influenza" she snapped at him, shoving her way into his personal space, "a very nasty case at that. Her core temperature is higher than normal, and her body so exhausted and overworked it appears she suffered a temporary syncopal episode" she wrings the stethoscope tightly in her grip till Bradley spots her knuckles turning white, and despite being almost a foot smaller than her, the man felt very intimidated. "So what -pray tell, Captain- was this poor girl doing under your supervision that caused her to black out?"
"Basic morning exercises" he says blankly, blinking down at the imposing woman with a stupefied look on his face. "no different than any other day"
Her frown increased, as did the level of her voice, "Did she complain to you at any point that she was unfit to be exerting herself in such heat?"
"No?" He replies, tone also loud and a touch defensive too, before his next words kilter off into a regretful quiet, struck with the memory of how 'off' the girl had looked, "she didn't say...anything"
"You're her Captain, are you not?" The nurse continued to snap, moving away to the computer sitting on the desk beside the med-table and furiously clicking away at the keyboard. "Is it not your duty to be ensuring the health of all students when they show up each morning?"
Bradley cast his gaze to the floor, "I- I didn't-"
His soft, stuttering words were muffled by the louder ones of Hound, "Miss, you can't be pinning the blame all on the Cap-!"
"-You promised to be quiet, Soldier" she cuts him off without breaking eye contact with the computer screen, forcing the young man on the other end of the small room to fall silent. The printer beside the computer begins to hum, loud and droning, grating on Bradley's ears. He glances up to watch the woman snatch a piece of paper from the machine, before circling back round to him.
She shoves the paper towards his chest, and he belatedly fumbles to grab it.
"What if you had continued with your standard flight drill this morning? What do you think would have happened had she flown in this state?" She continues, a little quieter this time, yet no less berating.
Rooster felt Mav's hand grip his shoulder comfortingly as he stepped in to diffuse the tension with a placating, "Okay ma’am, I think he gets it"
"Forgive me Captain, but I'm not sure he does" is her quick reply.
"Trust me" Mav says, leaning round to watch Rooster carefully, not missing the subtle way his eyes dart to the girl on the bed, face muscles twitching acutely with guilt. "he understands"
"She'll be fit to leave once she's woken- though I'll check over her again just to be sure before I dismiss her into your care" She gave a pointed look at this, and Bradley felt very lost under her gaze.
'My care?'
Mav however, gives the woman a sharp not of understanding over the younger Captains shoulder, still gripping it reassuringly. The action speaks for itself;
Our care.
"I've prescribed the girl some medication to take" the nurse says evenly, glancing pointedly to the paper still clutched close to Roosters chest, that aches something fierce. "Be sure she takes two doses twice a day for the next forty-eight hours atleast" and as an afterthought, "properly supervised"
Roosters eyes scan the document, reading it like he were a school-kid trying desperately to absorb information for a last minute pop-quiz. His lost gaze focuses up to meet Mav's, but the older man gently takes the paper from his shaking hands and gives him a reassuring look. Rooster lets out a soft breath, relieved by the wordless promise in the mans eyes. Rooster could read him far easier than any piece of paper;
Mav had a plan.
The woman's strict, professional voice cuts through the air and filters into Roosters clouded subconsciousness once again, "Miss Dawson will most certainly NOT be allowed anywhere near an aircraft until she is back to full health, are we understood Captain Bradshaw?"
"Yes, Maam" he utters, and despite having just been verbally drilled into, he gives her a grateful look and a soft, earnest, "thank you for your help"
A single brow raises on the woman's face, which shines with surprise, before she gives a stiff, albeit appreciative nod in return.
A small, barely audible whining noise brings all attention back to the young person laying on the med-table, who had began to wriggle her way back into consciousness. Rooster watches, dazed, as her eye lashes flutter open, before clamping shut again at the rooms harsh overhead lighting. She gives a pained grunt at the bright intrusion.
"Cap?" Dodger mumbled in question, hand blindly reaching out to find him. He met her halfway, stumbling round the side of the bed-table and awkwardly clutching her smaller hand in two of his own- not entirely sure what to do with them.
"Hey Kid" he starts quietly, trying to sound calmer than he felt, "you remember where you are?"
He watches the kid in question crack her eyes open cautiously, surveying the room with a narrowed gaze, before frowning. "I was outside" She croaks, confusion bleeding into her tone.
"You were" he agrees softly, glad she was still somewhat coherent. "You took a pretty nasty fall- you're in the infirmary now"
This was the wrong thing to say- as suddenly the girls eyes widened, and Rooster felt her hand clutch at his with fervour. Her breath quickened, chest heaving in and out with sharp succession, pulling a bout of strained coughs from her. She sat up immediately, and began frantically trying to climb out of her seat-
"Why?" She croaks, shifting about with panic, whilst Rooster tries to calmly pin her back down into her previous laying position. The stronger pilot is successful, of course, but his student doesn't go down without a fight, struggling all the way. "why?" She gasps, "I'm fine, I- I don't need to be here!"
Suddenly a hand is in her hair, calloused fingers soothing her scalp. Maverick.
He leans into her vision, looking significantly calmer than Rooster, who's face is pinched with stress- most likely mirroring her own. "Shh, kiddo" he says, smoothing down her sweaty locks, "calm down, Judy. You're just being checked over, alright? We're not gonna make you stay here any longer than you have to"
Judy relaxes very smally at the comforting gesture and the equally reassuring words, feeling her stomach flutter with warm, fuzzy sensations at each brush of the man's hand. She breathes out a shaky sigh, swallowing past her dry throat, and nods minutely up at him.
"Sorry, Sir" she whispers, eyes stinging with the sudden urge to cry.
Maverick smiled warmly down at her, hand still dutifully brushing aside the stray wisps of brown hair, "Don't apologise, Sweetheart" he murmurs softly, pet name falling easily from his mouth and making the girls face twitch into a small, shy smile, "Your reaction is pretty justified for someone who passed out"
The girls cheeks flush with embarrassment (flush more at least, as they were already very red with illness), and she meekly turns to face her Captain, who in turn was watching Maverick. More specifically, Mavericks hand, still gently carding through the soft hair on the girls crown- as though he were jotting the action to memory. His eyes peel away and find hers, blinking down at her. "I Fainted?" She asked him smally, to which he nodded, a worried frown creasing his forehead.
"Caused by dehydration" another voice cuts in, and Judy's gaze travels to a stern-looking Nurse typing away at a bulky computer. Behind the lady, she spots several members of her squad, faces all a-fresh with concern for their littlest member- and she feels her face redden tenfold. "A spiked fever" the nurse continues, fingers clacking on the keys with less intensity than before. She wheels round in a spinning-chair to face the younger girl, lips drawn down scoldingly. "low blood sugar- all of which are common symptoms of influenza. Which- judging by the look on your face- i'm sure you already knew you had"
Following her speech, the Nurse fixes the girl with an unhappy look, making Judy want to shrink down into her seat till she became one with the medical table. As if on cue, a series of harsh coughs rattled through her chest, causing her head to pound painfully again. Almost as if he were aware of this, Mavericks hand resumed its soothing ministrations, the soft rubs across her scalp doing wonders to help ease the ache in her skull. His soft hushing was like a lullaby to her ears, soothing her into a trance-like state, and leaving her almost woozy with the flush of endorphins she felt from such a simple action.
"Plenty of rest for you, Miss Dawson" the lady said, "And absolutely no flying until you're back to full health"
Rooster watched silently as the girl nodded, wincing, before croaking out, "Thank you Ma'am". She began sitting up, shuffling her way to the edge of the bed, "I'll head back to my room"
"Woah" Bradley suddenly calls, grabbing the girl before she could make a (sluggish and stumbling) getaway, "slow down there, Sport"
'Sport?' He thinks belatedly in the back of his mind as he pushes the girl back down into her reclined seat, 'when did you turn Sixty?'
She gives him a look, fever flushed eyes glistening with both alarm and confusion, "I don't think you should go back to your room"
"I'm not staying in the infirmary" she snaps hoarsely, panicked, and begins to struggle against his hold, "no fucking way"
"Easy kiddo" are the quiet words he settles her with, the same time Mav calls out a soft but stern "language, young lady"
'Kiddo?' His brain supplies again, 'what's this, an episode of The Brady Bunch?'
He wets his lips, sparing a glance at Mav, who once again acts as his beacon of reassurance, "Me and Mav already have this planned out"
Judy's head spins dizzily between the multiple faces in the room, before drawing back to her Captain- her face lost, nervous, and positively helpless against the raging sickness he saw swimming behind her eyes. Something awful spikes against his sternum- and there goes that funny feeling again.
He watches as another cough rattles from her own chest, before she dazedly questions;
"What do you mean?"
The two Captains had loaded the poorly girl into Roosters truck, squishing her into the car as Mav tucked himself up beside her in the passenger side whilst Rooster drove. It was a tight squeeze into the truck, but they managed with little fuss.
"Slow down, Brad" Mav had admonished at one point, when in his frazzled state, Bradley had unknowingly began climbling the speed limit in their haste to get the girl home.
Home.
That's where they'd decided to take her, as there was simply no way Mav would've allowed the kid to stay in her dorm and cater to her own needs. Not when she had two Captains that were trained enough in first aid to make sure she was properly nursed back to full health and ready to fly in no time.
That, and the thought of Judy being all alone and tucked under the blankets in her little dorm room made his heart ache with sympathy.
It only took one helpless look at Rooster for his own kid to understand the wordless request. It was quickly settled; Judy would be coming home with them.
The girl in question was currently moving in and out of consciousness, heavy head resting against Mav's shoulder, the rest of her practically slumped against his side too. Rooster stole worried glances at her every so often, watching her blink her bleary eyes open each time the car hit a bump in the road. Rooster winced as the wheels of his truck slid over a particularly rocky part of asphalt, glancing over to his passengers again and muttering out a small apology.
Mav had his arm around the girl, tucking her securely against him so she jolted less with the movement of the vehicle, and she took his action as perfect invitation to huddle against him, seeking comfort from him in her fever-delirious state.
She'd mumbled several sentences during their journey, a jumble of words neither men could understand, sharing worried looks over the top of her head during the brief moments she'd close her eyes to attempt sleep.
A small tap against his collarbone however, brought Mav's attention back down to the drowsy girl in his arms, and he let out a soft, questioning "hm?", his free hand coming to brush the sweaty locks of hair accumulating against her still hot forehead.
"Cap'n M'tchell?" She croaked out, shaking in his grasp, the motion urging him to tug her a little tighter against him to abate her shivers.
"Just Mav, kiddo- we're off duty now, like in our Friday talks, yeah?" He reminds her softly, giving a gentle smile as she in turn gazed up at him with half-lidded brown eyes. "don't hurt your voice tryna get through the whole title"
She nods deliriously, wetting her chapped lips, before trying again, "Mav?"
He breathes a short amused huff out of his nose, and also try's again, "Hm?"
"M' warm" she gasps between sniffles, frown twisting her features, shuddering with both illness and anxiety (caused by said illness). "n' I'm c-cold too"
"I know, kid" the man whispers back sympathetically, still brushing her hair with his fingers to try and calm the stressed little duckling. "it's just cause you're unwell at the moment" he explains carefully, speaking to her as though she were a child (which in his eyes, she was) and trying to ease her mind, "you'll feel better when we get you home"
She stirs, and repeats the last word with both confusion and a dash of underlying hope. "Home?" And then shes frowning again, "P'rk C'ty's too far 'way"
Mavs’s stomach swooped at her words, gut stabbing in pity at the transparent misunderstanding. Judy had heard him use the word 'home', and of course, naturally associated it with her own home back in Utah.
Rooster clears his throat awkwardly from the drivers seat, "Our place, kid" he clarifies, unable to look into her misty eyes when she glanced over at him. He mentally justified his actions by needing to maintain eye contact with the road, and it certainly wasn't because he couldn't bare to see such raw homesickness rippling across the ailing girls face.
"Oh" was the muted reply, before Mav held her closer, forcing the girl to tuck herself back against him, seeking warm.
"...M'embarrassed" she mumbled scratchily into his shirt after a short silence, causing Mav to furrow his brows at her. He caught Rooster following suit from his own seat, though his eyes remained focused on the road.
"What for?" The older man asked, head dipping low to grab the muffled reply that unfortunately slips past his ears, swallowed up by the rumbling truck engine. He shakes his head apologetically, "Honey, speak up for me please. I can't hear you" he says, and feels her shuffle uncomfortably against him.
"M' eighteen" she repeats, a little louder this time. 'shouldn't be-" she gestures to her current state.
"Ill? Kid I hate to break it to you, but adults also-"
"No, no" she cuts him off, choking on a short, sharp cough that momentarily robs her of air. She clears her throat, and urges, "not that".
He watches her cheeks flush, refusing to meet his eyes, whilst glancing out the corner of her own to peek a look at Rooster- who pretends to not be listening, but Maverick knows he secretly is.
"Then what?-oh" he breaks away in understanding, and smiles sadly at her. "Hey, it's okay" he reassures, rubbing a hand up and down her back in slow, soothing circles as she tries to duck her face further away from his view. "you're unwell. It's not a crime to want to be comforted"
She bristles like a cat at the word, shoulders hunching, "It's childish" she whines back, embarrassed.
"It's natural" he counters, tipping his own head forward and refusing to let her hide away from him. "you should see Bradley when he's under the weather; dramatic as hell"
"I heard that" the man in question deadpans, and Mav smiles in success when it gains a soft, congested laugh from the young student.
"You've got nothing to be embarrassed for, sweetheart. We're here to look after you, whatever way we can" he declares quietly into her ear, satisfied when she nods her head in understanding, forehead brushing against his shoulder, making her hair stick up with static.
"Besides" he continues good naturedly, giving her a small squeeze as she shyly shuffled back into his embrace. "you're helping me too"
She glanced up at him, brown eyes blinking blearily, "Yeah?"
"Yeah" he says, "Cuddling is my form of therapy"
This gained a quiet snort from the kid, and an even quieter one from the drivers seat.
"You tell anyone though, and I'll have to smother you in your sleep" he nudges his shoulder playfully, carefully, and bumps against the girl, eliciting another breathy noise of amusement from her. "can't let the secret get out"
"Won' tell a soul" she croaks.
"Promise?"
"Mhm"
"Atta girl"
They reach the house fairly quickly (thanks to Roosters over-concerned-Captain driving, to which he would later deny completely), and together, the two men help the feverish teen stumble her way into the house and up to the spare bedroom.
From there it was the task of retrieving yet another spare pair of Amelia's pyjamas, and helping the poorly aviator into bed.
Job well done, right?
Wrong.
Judy's fever had climbed even higher since leaving base, causing the girl to become incoherently unwell. With that, her previous bashfulness had long faded away, replaced with a sudden, almost hysterical clinginess instead.
Amidst Rooster and Mav's joint-effort to get Judy settled, they'd both had at least one small hand grappling at their arms, or several delicate fingers twisting in their shirt, gripping tight and holding on for dear life.
And when Rooster had tried to remove Dodgers hand from around his wrist, the girl had quite nearly screamed her lungs out.
"No!" She begged deliriously, voice hoarse and riddled with anxiety, eyes large yet their pupils merely pinpricks against the warm honey brown iris. "Don't leave, please!" She begged, lips trembling in time with her shivers, sweat glistening on her forehead, plastering several soft baby hairs to her skin.
Rooster paused in shock, the hand that had been attempting to remove the girls fingers from around his wrist going completely lax. He blinked, mouth open, unable to do anything else but stare down at his student as she began to weep in earnest.
Mav instantly swooped in, scooping the girl up and holding her close just like he had done in the truck- contagious flu be damned. Rooster watched, equally stunned and curious, as Judy melded into him, her fingers reluctantly slipping away from his wrist to instead find solace in gripping Mav's T-shirt.
She practically smushed her face into his chest, tired tears racing down her cheeks, huffing with exertion. She sounded very congested now, her exposed arms littered with goosebumps, slim limbs trembling in pain.
"My head hurts" she complained, one shaky hand coming up to palm at her sweaty forehead. A larger hand brushed her fingers aside to check her temperature, and she sighed in relief at the much cooler, welcoming sensation.
"She burning up" Mav muttered, before squaring himself when Bradley’s face grew panicked. He held a placating hand out, jumping to reassure his pseudo-son. "the Doctor said it would get worse before it could get better, remember?"
Rooster nodded dumbly, awkwardly fumbling with the sheet of paper handed to him in the infirmary. Mav nods his head towards it and asks, "What does it say?"
The younger man wets his chapped lips and clears his throat nervously, "uh" he mumbles as he scans the paper quickly, "two doses of ...Oset- er- oseltamivir phosphate....what the hell is that?"
Rooster frowns down at the older man, who too looks just as confused. "Lemme' see it" Mav hums, and squints to read the small print, before his face brightens in recognition.
"Oh, it's Tamiflu" he exclaims softly, "I think we have some in the medicine cabinet- go check!"
"We already have some?" Is the incredulous question, “Why?"
"'Melia had a cold a few weeks back" the elder explains hurriedly, shooing the man with a sharp jut of his chin towards the door. Rooster dutifully departs the room. “Penny went a bit overboard and came home with half our local pharmacies stock"
He heard Rooster give a muffled chuckle from the end of the hallway, before the tell-take sound of the bathroom cabinet door creaking open was heard. Mav listened as the man rummaged through their plentiful stock, now feeling grateful that Penny had overcompensated in her purchases, when he felt a sudden shift in the room and frowned.
The girl in his lap had began to shake; twitching like she were caught in the middle of an earthquake, body taught in his hold, her grip on his shirt alarmingly tight.
"Judy?" He softly questioned, unsettled by her sudden reaction and worried her symptoms were worsening by the sudden ragged tone her breathing had taken on. "You alright?"
"I can't find it" Roosters frustrated voice distantly calls from the bathroom, still searching. "Stupid medication with their stupid long ass words" he grumbled, huffing impatiently when several packets of ibruprofen fall from the top shelf, hitting him in the face on their way down. “Ugh-Really?”
In the other room, Mav sat incredibly still and watched as Judy's- now wide and alert- eyes darted wildly about the room, as if searching for something…
Or- he thinks belatedly, as he continues to quietly scrutinise- not something, but rather -
"Roo?" Mav calls out, hears the rustling stop, and his sons low voice reply almost instantly.
"Yeah?"
"Come back here a sec" he says.
Moments pass before the younger man bounds back into the room, eyes alit with worry as they land on the girl in Mav's lap and begin searching over his pupil- checking for any sudden changes in her health.
The action causes Mavericks heart to pinch fondly; his kid had always cared very deeply about others. Too deeply, sometimes- and often payed the price for it.
"She okay?" Brad asks, kneeling down, hands hovering in the air over the girl- unsure what to do exactly. The action was almost comical; like he were a giant lumberjack trying not to spook a baby deer out in the woods, rather than a teacher trying to comfort his ill student. Maverick scoffed internally; for all the care his son had for people, he was often pretty awful at actually showing it.
"She's fine" Mav said, before he began shuffling in his seat. "Here-" he grunts as he carefully shifts the girl out of his lap, "switch with me"
Rooster blanched. "What?"
Mav sighs, and smirks up at him, "Humour your old man, Brad"
With slight reluctance and a fresh new wave of anxiousness, Bradley sat down in the space the older pilot had previously taken up, eyes wide and uncertain when the teen is suddenly placed back into position; this time in his own arms.
The response was instantaneous.
The trembling girl calmed considerably, her shallow breathing evening out a touch, as if all the energy had drained out of her the moment she'd realised her Captain had returned. A set of nimble fingers grabbed his shirt, contentedly clutching the fabric in their grasp.
Mav smiled down at the pair knowingly, "just as I thought" he murmured.
Rooster, having been watching the girl nervously as she settled into his awkward hold, whipped his head up and asks, "What are you talkin’ about?"
"Kid got jittery when you left the room" Maverick replies, his slow grin growing, stretching his lips over his teeth till he's positively beaming at him in a wicked ‘I’m always right’ kind of way. "turns out she wanted you"
"Me?!" Rooster exclaims, before remembering himself and dropping his voice, hissing, "Why me?!"
"You’re her Captain" his pseudo-father states, like it were obvious.
"But you're- you" he splutters, "and I- I'm not-"
"You're her Captain, Brad." Mav repeats firmly, "Just Stay here with her, and I'll go look in the first aid box downstairs. I know Penny bought Tamiflu"
Maverick takes his leave, before Bradleys quiet, yet startled voice stops him in the doorway.
"No wait, Mav!-" he calls, the evident nervousness showing in his body language seeping into his tone now too, "I don't know how to- I can't-"
"Bradley" Mav says, and something calm washes over him at the sound of his name spoken so reassuringly. "I'll be five minutes at most" he continues, and then encouragingly, you can handle her for five minutes, right?"
Bradley ponders it, looking down at the semi-coherent kid, and then back up to Mav. "What do I do?" He asks, sounding more than a little lost.
Mav smiles, both spurring and just slightly condescending. "Just keep her calm" he replies easily, before giving him a pointed look, "you could do with cooling it too, whilst you're at it"
And then Bradley was alone with the girl, Mav's footsteps trailing out the room and echoing down the staircase.
Brad sat a still as a rock, holding his breath, too scared to even move.
The girl, though far less than before, was still shivering- her teeth chattering in her skull. A soft whimper of pain whistled out between her clamped lips, startling the man.
‘What now?’ He thought, wracking his brain for a solution. He listened as Dodgers teeth clacked painfully together in the silence of the room, making him wince, and causing her to let out more soft, poor noises. ‘What would Mav do?’
Recollecting the scene in the infirmary earlier that day, Rooster raised a cautious hand, and slowly began to smooth it through the girls hair, tussling his fingers across her scalp in the same manner he'd seen Maverick do.
The girls relief was almost immediate; jittery form practically sagging against him, body falling limp into his chest as a sigh rattled out her mouth.
He continued the rhythmic-hopefully soothing- ministrations, scratching softly against her head in circular patterns, his other arm coming to rest a lot more comfortably across her back as he held her slack form closer to him- Maverick would have his head if he let her roll off the side of the bed and hurt herself.
He paused when a nasty coughing fit struck her, small shoulders shaking with the force of them, and allowed a small, sympathetic hush to leave his mouth when she shakily clutched at her head and groaned in pain. It appeared that the cough-attack had helped to worsen her pounding headache. Fingers still tickling her scalp, Bradley dipped a thumb down to her temple, massaging slow circles into point at the side of her head where the tense muscle resided.
Judy breathed another sigh of relief, "thank you" she whispered, dropping her heavy head into the crook where his shoulder joined his neck. Her fever-induced state had taken all previously coherent embarrassment from her, and was now too out of it to care that she was currently being coddled like an infant by her mentor.
Rooster just hummed in reply, and her fever-fuzzed brain took that as his way of saying "you're welcome".
It was at that moment which Maverick returned, the hard expression on his face melting instantly, as his eyes glinted incredulously at the sight he was met with. He quickly overcame his shock, and smiled at his son, who still looked very unsure and uncomfortable but was atleast giving it his best shot."Look at you" the older man whispered, "you're a natural, Brad". This was a slight exaggeration, as Bradley still held himself very stiffly, every movement uncoordinated and lost-looking; but Mav was still proud of him nonetheless. He knew he'd chosen right with him; his son made for an excellent Captain.
Bradley however, clearly didn't agree. He frowned in return, cheeks tinting almost the same shade as the fever-flushed girl in his arms, who was now dozing lightly on his shoulder. "was jus' copyin' you" was his bashful reply, making Maverick smirk knowingly. He'd noticed the boy watching him earlier, and only now did he realise why.
'Bradley Bradshaw' he thought, staring down at his kid, who was avoiding his gaze in favour of sweeping a pair of concerned eyes over Judy, hand still dutifully smoothing her hair down. 'You secret sap'
"Did you get the medicine?" Rooster asked, breaking the silence, voice low so as not to aggravate the girls troublesome headache.
Mav started, sifting something out of his back pocket and showing it to him. "Yeah, it's here" he said, before crouching down at the side of the bed where Bradley's legs hung, so he could be at somewhat-eye level with the poorly girl. "Judy, honey?" he hums, opening the box and giving the amber-coloured bottle a good shake. Bradley spies the nasty looking liquid sloshing about inside the container, and grimaces over the top of the girls head as the man continues, "Can you take some of this medicine for us?"
The girls half-lidded eyes crack open, squinting at Mav and the medicine he's holding. "S'not a needle?" She asks cautiously, shying away from the medication and creeping further into Bradley's side.
"No" Maverick huffed out around an even huffier laugh, "no needles here kiddo" he promises, uncapping the bottle with a loud click. "just mixture" he retrieves the dosage-spoon from the box, and gives the medicine a quick, curious sniff. Bradley watches the man hold back a disgusted look of his own, and withholds a smirk when he hears him muttering to himself, "which probably tastes like shit but we won't tell you that"
"Huh?"
"Nothing" he quickly assures, pouring the thick liquid out onto the spoon and holding it out to her, "you ready?"
"No" she mumbles avoidantly, but the kids a trooper and dutifully takes the medicine-not without a few choice words slipping out in the process. "Ew" she repulsively declares, "wha'da fuckkk-"
"Sh" Rooster hushes disapprovingly, despite finding her excessive language secretly amusing, "you really need to watch that mouth, Dawson"
Dodger smacks her lips, sticking her tongue out in disgust, "Tha' tastes like sh-"
"Alright, we get it" He cuts off before she can carry on with her sentence, spying Mav's own grin as he places the medicine on the bed-side table, before quietly announcing that he was going to retrieve a glass of water for the girl.
He secretly notes that Bradley has no aversion to him leaving the room this time, in fact, the man barely registers his departure- too focused on his own temporary ward.
When Mav re-emerges, Bradley has somehow removed Judy from his lap and laid her down on the spare bed, where she rests fitfully, soft congested snores filtering out from beneath several layers of blankets.
Bradley had just finished throwing another soft cotton blanket over the sleeping girl, when Mav announces his return.
"I don't think she needs that many blankets, Brad"
The man startled at his guardians reappearance in the doorway, turning round to throw him a bashful look.
"It's for the fever" he explains, scratching the back of his head awkwardly and gesturing to the blankets in question, "it'll help sweat it out of her system faster"
Mav provides him with an impressed look. "Clever" he quietly praises.
Bradley throws a smug look as he passes by, moustache twitching when the elder shakes his head fondly in return. Then, he rests a hand on his shoulder and steers them both out the room, letting the door close softly behind them.
In the early hours of the morning, Maverick is woken by the distant sounds of coughing.
He grumbles sleepily, leaning over and reassuringly patting Penny on the back when she too twitches into consciousness. He's up and out of bed before she can even try to sit up, certainly not willing to let the woman cater to their poorly guest, despite knowing how deeply driven her motherly-instincts were.
He ambles sleepily down the hallway, passing Amelia and Brads respective rooms on the way, before reaching the guest room. In his drowsy state, he was late to realise that the door was slightly cracked open, and not at all how he'd left it when he'd last checked on the girl before turning in for the night.
He creaked the door open further and peered into the room, waking instantly at the sight he was met with.
Rooster was already there, sitting on the side of the bed, carefully placing a damp cloth on the sleeping girls forehead, and absently smoothing away the stray wisps of hair from her face- seemingly deep in thought. In the soft light of the room Mav spots that Roosters twelve-million layers of blankets had been stripped down to just one, telling him that Judy's raging fever was finally beginning to break.
Bradley whips round at the sound of the door, hand paused between tucking a dark, damp curl behind her ear, shoulders hunching up in surprise and just a touch of embarrassment.
Mav holds up an innocent hand, before placing a promising finger to his lips- 'I'll be quiet'. True to his word, he silently shuffles into the room, carefully sitting on the corner of the bed.
Together they watch the rhythmic rise and fall of the girls chest as she sleeps on- or rather, Mav watches Bradley as he watches her.
"S'okay, Mav" Brad whispers after a short lapse of silence, twisting round to face him. "You can go back to sleep, I got it"
Mav’s eyes trail to the medicine bottle on the night stand, and the splodges of Tamiflu serum that coat the neck of the bottle as well as the table surface. He quirks a brow at the sight.
"I can see that" he rumbles in amusement, and Bradley follows his gaze, and scoffs.
"Brat tried to fight me takin' the next dose" he hums, voice incredibly low as not to wake his student, "'got a mean swing even when she's Ill, this one"
Mav tries to hide his grin, but ultimately fails when it shows in his voice, "I'm sure she didn't mean it, Roo"
"Nah, I know" the other man dismisses with a wave, turning back to keep an eye on the girl when she shuffles in her sleep, rolling over to face him more. The cloth on her head slips, and Rooster catches it before quickly readjusting it for her. Mav blinks at the boy, and wonders if he's still dreaming. "Her fever spiked before, 'was a bit delirious"
Mav frowns, and stifles a yawn around his questioning "Hm?"
"Yeah" Rooster hums back, before his voice grows even deeper, and his tone a touch...solemn. "she, uh...Kept talkin’ ‘bout her Dad"
A heavy silence fills the room.
"Ah" Mav whispered knowingly, eyes apologetic, "Sorry, kid. I can't say I know much about that" he confesses honestly "y’know, student confidentiality protection and all that- but i was informed that her father passed a few years back" he conceded, throwing the dreaming girl a somber look.
"Yeah...I figured" Brad replied lowly, fiddling with the damp cloth when it begins to slip again. "We had a talk in the truck a little while back" he explains, "she mentioned him- didn't say anything about her mother though"
Mav let's spill the little information he does know, "According to cyclone, her birth mother isn't in the picture" and watched from out the corner of his eye as Brads jaw clenched, knuckles whitening in a closed-fisted grip. "Judy's father raised her for the majority of her life"
There's a brief quiet. A deep consoling breath. Then a beat, and a single chuckle. "Poor guy"
He spares his son a disapproving look, clearly not finding his lighthearted joke very funny given their current situation. "The kids unwell" he admonishes him, motioning to the girl, "let's cut her some slack for now, Hey Roo?"
Bradley just huffs out another breathy laugh, Mav following suit despite himself.
Their moment is brought to an end by the heavy sound of rustling sheets, and a sharp gasp.
Dodger woke with a start, breathing hard. She propped herself up on shaky arms and began scanning her unfamiliar surroundings with lucid brown eyes.
"Woah, hey Dodge" Rooster pacifies her, placing out a reassuring hand and letting it hover over her shoulder. “It’s okay!"
She grabs the outstretched arm, grounding herself, as her teary eyes flit to rest on his.
"Shh" he tries again, “you're good, kiddo- it's Captain Bradshaw, remember?" he sees her eyes trail off behind him, watches as her sleep-adled brain absorbs her surroundings with a furrowed brow. “We’re at Mav's" he explains, letting his hand fall to her shoulder and squeeze it reassuringly.
The disoriented girl takes his actions as invitation to lean into him, head resting against his shoulder. Rooster still receives her awkwardly, though it is far less uncoordinated than before.
"Safe-" she croaks, gripping tightly to his pyjama shirt, as a hand comes up to stiffly card through her hair. “safe house"
"Yeah" he replies, despite not having a clue what the girl was mumbling about. "you're safe here"
She shudders in his hold, “Cap?” She asks, waits for his delayed ‘hm?’ before speaking, “m’ really cold"
"That'll be the fever, kid" Mav mumbles from behind them, leaning over to brush a thumb across the tears collecting at her chin. “just gotta hold out till it breaks"
"No" she whines persistently, shaking her head with all the stubborn grace of an ailed teen who just wanted to be well again. “everythin hurts” she complains in a soft, broken voice, before craning her head up to look at her Captain in earnest. “please, make it stop"
Rooster feels the air in the back of his throat leave him, chokes down the sharp stab in his sternum. He shakes his head apologetically, “I'm sorry, Dodge- I can't give you anymore medication for a few hours now"
That wasn’t what the girl was hoping to hear. She sniffs, sounding very congested, and breathes harshly out of her mouth, a small whimper escaping in the mix. “I'm scared" she quivers, "don' like being sick"
The hand on her shoulder wraps around her back, and pulls her a little closer. There’s a chin resting on her forehead, and warm breath tickling her hair as her Captain wearily exhales. “I know" he says, even though he didn’t earlier that day. But now, he does, and he most certainly will be keeping a closer eye on the girls health from now on.
A question in the air breaks him from his trance. “Cap?"
"Mh?" He hums instinctively.
It’s quiet, till there’s a shaky inhale, and a second question that steals his own breath “m' I gonna die?"
He smiles sympathetically over the top of the girls head, ready to brush off her words as a silly side-effect to being unwell, before he stops himself. His smile turns sad, and he turns to spot Mav wearing a similar look of his own. Their eyes meet, and he doesn’t have to be able to read minds to know that they’re both thinking the same thing;
‘Her father passed a few years back’
There’s a still quiet that washes over the room, broken only by dodgers soft sniffles as she tries to clear her blocked nose.
She’s still waiting for a reply, but it’s Mav who’s the first to find his voice, “No, kid- you're gonna be fine" he whispers.
"It's hurts" she complains again, “‘m scared"
"I know" Rooster hushes, fighting with himself to find the right word to reassure her, “I'ts okay" he settles with, and then “I gotcha" before a low mumbled, “go back to sleep,"
"Don't leave" she whispers tiredly, and he glances down to her hands, which are white knuckling his shirt in a death grip. His lips quirk up into a small, wobbly, yet genuine smile.
“couldn't if I tried"
She falls into a much more restful sleep this time, still leaning heavily into her Captains chest, as he continues to carefully hold her upright. The grip on his shirt loosens slightly, but she doesn’t completely relinquish her hold of him. He sighs in the back of his throat, tries to spot an opening to crawl out of her grasp- but ultimately finds none.
"She's a good kid" Mav whispers.
"Yeah, she's alright" he gently jokes, before sobering as he responds a little more seriously. "They all are- turns out I got lucky with my squad"
Mav spares him another one of his 'told you so' looks, before reaching out and offering to take the girl. “Want me to take watch?" He asks him, surprised when Bradley shakes his head.
"Nah I'm good" he says, carefully adjusting his hold on the girl, “I don't wanna risk waking her"
Mav’s surprise is transparent, and Rooster rolls his eyes at him. “I’m her Captain, remember?” He retorts, quoting the man’s earlier words and using them against him.
Mav’s shock fades away into a delicate smile, eyes dancing between the two, before he slowly stands and slips back out the room with a departing; “I know you are"
And in his opinion, there was no one better suited.
Notes:
Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think! comments are always appreciated, especially ones for future chapter/one-shot ideas!
Chapter 11: Flock Together
Summary:
Roosters students learn the fundamental skills of team-working - and how to have fun too.
Aka: I wrote my own version of a classic “Topgun beach scene”
Notes:
I’m alive! sorry I was gone so long, i had SERIOUS writers block with this chapter, so it was sitting there unfinished for a long while. I’m still not 100% happy with it but oh well.
I also wrote most of this in the early hours of the morning again. So if it reads funny/sloppy in sections, I’m really sorry about that.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It was remarkable how quick Dodger had recovered from her temporary bout of poor health, and was back to flying about in the sky with the rest of her squad in a little less than a week. Today, said squad, their Captain and herself were all currently in the midst of a late-morning Hop.
Dodger revelled in the flight, having sorely missed the sensation of being airborne for over five days (which wasn't a lot, but after being bed-bound for most of the week (Mav's orders), it had felt like a lifetime). However, the more they advanced into their session, the more chaos that slowly began to ensue.
"Duck Four, is your radio working?!" Captain Bradshaw's firm voice crackles out across their Airband frequency, buzzing in Dodgers ears as it fizzes through her receiver. Much to the teams apparent delight and his transparent embarrassment, Rooster had recently (unconsciously) joined in with the whole "numbered duck thing", and now, it had become second nature for him to use said terms during lesson-time.
Rickrolls reply to his stern query is quick, albeit confused, "Um. Affirmative, Sir?"
"Then fucking use it, soldier!"
All pilots squirm in their seats at their Captains heated tone, sweat glistening on their brows as they grip their sticks with equally clammy hands, and frantically zip about the air.
"Are you a squad or what?" Rooster continues, his reprimanding words pulling a wince from Dodger as she breaks a harsh left, narrowly missing her Captains 'kill-shot'. "Communicate with each-other!"
"Yes, sir!" Six frantic voices comm back.
For this mornings hop, Captain Bradshaw had divided their squadron into two separate formations: Hound, Rickroll, and Guild in one- and Dodger, Checkers and Twix in the other.
He'd then proposed somewhat of a dogfight, with himself subbing as the enemy aircraft. His only rule? Stay out of his radar:
Last team standing wins.
What then commenced was a gruelling flight, with all six pilots-in-training nearing complete mental and physical exhaustion within the first five minutes of the fight.
Somewhere around the seven minute mark their flying began to get pretty sloppy, much to Roosters transparent annoyance. Hence, his rather aggravated commands.
Dodger quickly swerved a second time when she heard the close-range radar begin rapidly beeping- warning her that Rooster was hot on her tail once more. She breaks right, then quickly breaks to the left when Twix's aircraft approaches behind her blind spot- and the two of them almost collide with eachother.
"Dodger!" Her Captains harsh, albeit frantic, voice nearly deafens her as he shouts into his comm for the fourth consecutive time in that minute alone. "Warn your wingman when you're breaking, goddammit!"
"Sorry, Captain!" She breathes back between quick, bated breaths as a few G's begin to push down against her body, stealing the air from her lungs. "I wasn't-"
"Thinking?" Is his own quick retort, still furious. "Yeah, that's pretty obvious from where I'm sitting!"
Dodger fights the urge to curl up into a ball and hide away from her Captains brash words, the other half of her gearing up to snark something back at him. ‘Asshole’, is what she settles thinking instead, as a deep frown twists her face and a small sprinkle of hurt sinks down into her stomach.
Rooster back-tracks, circling round to the other team, leaving theirs alone- which had the girl breathing a sigh of relief and easing up the white-knuckle grip on her stick just a touch.
"Duck Two, where the fuck are you going?!" Can be heard just moments later through the comm, the unmistakable deep, brassy tone belonging to Rickroll.
Dodger whips her head round her blind spots to take a peek at what was going on behind her, and spots one of the other trio's aircraft peeling away from the V-formation and vaulting up into the sky.
"Defensive split" Hound grunts in delayed explanation, "Angels nine, and climbing"
"Gee" Rick crackles back, tone balancing between disgruntled and panicked as Roosters jet begins to gain on his own. "Thanks for the warning, Dick. Now I got the Captain on my ass"
Dodger manages a weak snicker at the name-calling, before an argument broke out over the connection.
"I told you!-"
"You told me jackshit-"
"Guys, Enough!" Guilds voice pierced through the radio loudly, stepping in like the typical eldest member and ending the fight before it could fully begin. "Are we even on the same team here?!"
The alternate trio couldn't help but eavesdrop on the argument as they zipped around the air, circling back to create a poor attempt at a formation whilst also keeping tabs on Roosters encroaching aircraft.
"Christ, I can't even think with these assholes shouting down my ear" Checkers huffs. Due to his jet being closer in range, his voice sounded much clearer to Dodger than that of the heated quarrel now simmering into the background.
Dodger rolled her eyes, and levelled out beside her grumpy teammate, "Well, atleast they're communicating, Duck four"
"Guys-" Twix tries to jump-in, but his almost nervous sounding voice is smothered up by Checkers louder comm crackling through, immediately on the defence.
"You're one to fucking talk, Dodg-"
"BREAK" Dodger screeches, diving to the side as her radar begins frantically beeping at her. Rooster was right behind them.
"Shit" Checkers yells, following Dodgers advice and breaking in the opposite direction, hoping to divert the attention of their Captain.
"Where the hell did he come from?!" Their youngest member could be heard yelling as she threatens not to spin-out.
"He just pitched back-"
"Fucks sake, Twix" Checkers growls breathily, the sudden G's causing his voice to strain significantly. "why didn't you say anything-?"
Now Twix could be heard raising his voice, "I tried to, but you guys were too busy shouting at eachother-"
"Split, split, SPLIT" Dodger began yelling again cursing loudly when she circled back and spotted Rooster advancing on Checkers' jet. "Duck four, he's on your ass! Move!"
But it was too late, the proximity radar began beeping loudly in Checkers cockpit, warning him that his Captain had a clear shot of him. "That's a kill, Checkers" Rooster gripes after the last, long beep of the device- sounding both frustrated and disappointed , "you're done"
The younger pilot swears, ripping off his oxygen mask in a flurry and huffing in both anger and exertion. From the corner of his visor, he spots his teammates slow their aircraft's to hover beside him.
The brief, sullen quiet is broken in a flurry of comm-static, as Checkers sets the bickering off with a sarcastic quip of,
"Oh, Nice work, Twix-"
"-uh, Sorry? How was that my fault?!"
"-uh, maybe you should warn a guy next time?!"
"you didn't warn me about the fucking collision-"
"That shit's not on me, Dodger should check her blind spots more oft-"
"Hey! Don't you dare bring me into this-"
Soon enough, the other three from the opposing team join in on the shouting- and within moments the radio is overwhelmed with multiple angry voices throwing spiteful jabs at each other.
"Alright! Alright, knock it off! All of you!" Captain Bradshaw barks, cutting in and leaving no room for further argument. The channel falls silent in the wake of his orders. "We're finished here. Everyone meet back at base for de-brief"
Six students slumped back in their seats, tired and dejected. One-by-one, each pilot reluctantly spun their aircraft around, and set a course after their Captain- who was already a mere puff of smoke in the distance.
The debrief in question was not a particularly encouraging one at all. It contained some angry pacing, several disappointed looks, and a hell of a lot of shouting on Roosters part.
"That was some of the worst flying I have ever seen" He snaps at his group, pacing up and down the line where each of his pupils stood to attention. Dodger was beginning to suspect that Rooster had a thing for pacing, as they guy seemed to always be doing it. Especially when he was stressed or angry. Or both.
And when it came to his students- Rooster was always stressed and angry.
"What the hell were you all even thinking?!" He barks, turning to face them- surveying all six guilty looking kids with a stony frown.
"Communication is key, teamwork is key" he stresses to them, watching as several pairs of shoulders threaten to slump out of their poised stance, "if none of you work as team in the sky, then none of you make it back to the ground in one piece" he continues bluntly, harsh- but truthful. "No do-overs; you're dead"
He spots Twix's jaw clench nervously, see's Guild's left leg shake and twitch, notices Dodger clench her hands into fists to hide the trembling of her fingers.
It didn't take a genius to tell they were all very spooked by his words.
Good, he thinks, they should be scared.
God knows he was after seeing some of the reckless stunts pulled today.
He shakes his head, his anger kicking up a notch, boot scuffing some deposited dirt blown in from the runway and causing a few students to jump. "I mean honestly?, it's like I haven't taught you anything!"
He hangs his head, stares down at the hot tarmac beneath his boots, unable to look at his students. He removed his shades, pinched the bridge of his nose, and tried to take some deep, consoling breaths.
It was mid-exhalation when he heard a small, barely audible scoff-
"Exactly"
His head whips up, brown eyes blazing, staring down the most obvious smart-mouth culprit, who met his gaze unflinchingly. Of course.
Dodger.
"What was that?" He says lowly, blinking down at her, brows furrowing and jaw clenching in a open-mouthed, disbelieving sneer when she refuses to answer. He tries again, "If you have something to say Soldier, speak up"
She wets her lips, hands still bawled at her sides, before all the fight deflates out of her like a balloon at his heated, almost reprimanding? look.
"It's nothing, Sir" she finally whispers, before blinking and staring down at her shoes. "I'm sorry for speaking out of turn"
Hm.
His eyes linger for a long moment, the ire dying out of him too as the silence pressed on, til he no longer felt enraged- just tired.
He sighs, brushing a hand through his wild, sweaty locks, before releasing his class with a weary:
"You're all dismissed"
Rooster sat at his desk, twirling a pen in his hand and staring off into space- deep in thought.
The thoughts in question, surrounding the dismal Hop that took place earlier that day- and more specifically the debrief of said Hop. And even more specifically; the pretty spiteful jab at his teaching methods from the groups youngest member.
'Exactly'
The word bounced around in his skull, repeating over and over in his mind, till he felt like her voice was slipping out the crevices of his ears and filling up the quiet room with noise. He stewed in the loud-silence for so long that eventually his seething anger dissipated into something more weary...more unsure.
What exactly had she meant by that?
"Hey Roo"
Rooster snapped out of his daze with a jolt, peering up into the face of his guardian, who'd seemingly emerged into the office without so much as making a sound. Rooster blinked up at the man, slightly unnerved by his sudden appearance, and pondering whether he'd always been this stealthy. He gave a weary smile anyway, and sighed out his own greeting, "Hey Mav"
"You sound tired" the older man states, reading his tone instantly. He drops himself down into his desk-chair, before wheeling it round to face his kid. "Bad hop?"
"Very bad" is Rooster's blunt reply, still aimlessly twiddling his pen.
He spots Mav wince from the side of his eye and resists the urge to sigh again. Instead, he says, "I don't know what I'm doing wrong, Mav- I mean, yeah, the kids are starting to bond as a team, but they're still a little slow on the uptake of working as one"
Mav- though amused by the mans use of the word "kids" in reference to his students (ironic, since he still considered the daggers and Roo as such too)- lifts his head in understanding, mouth parting in a silent 'ah', before asking, "communication issues?"
"I counted eight near collisions today, Mav" his 'kid' snaps back, head shaking in disbelief to match Mav's bugging eyes and 'o' shaped lips, "it's crazy! they just do their own thing and expect the other pilots to assume their next move"
Mav hums noncommittally, shuffling forward in his seat and wetting his lips in an attempt for find some reassuring words to give the boy- but Rooster, unsurprisingly, wasn't finished with his rant. So he sits back again, and attempts to follow his sons aimless rambling.
"-I mean, don't get me wrong they have perfect control of their own aircraft, but absolutely zero spacial awareness, which you kinda need to fly in formations. Not to mention when I try and call them out on their flying, they find a way to revert it back onto me" Brad scrubs a hand through his tousled hair, growling low in the back of his throat, before snapping, "and before I know it, I'm being called a bad teacher?!"
Mav's -slightly wavering- attention is quickly reeled back in at the last sentence, brows furrowed and eyes lingering between reproachful and curious.
"Who said that?" He asks, and Rooster scoffs.
"Who'd you think?"
He blinks, surprised, "Judy called you a bad teacher?"
"Well, no" Rooster belatedly confesses, feeling suddenly awkward that he was ratting out his youngest to someone who was essentially her higher official (as well as his boss). Then, he ponders her words again, and that niggling sense of doubt begins to fester in the back of his mind once more. "I mean, she might as well have-" he frowns deeply, "maybe she's right...maybe I am doing something wrong"
He sighs, long-drawn and teaming with anxious exhaustion, that bleeds off into a frustrated grunt. He palms the table-top harshly, the smack echoing about the room, and making Mav raise an eyebrow.
"I just wish they could work together without it ending up in a shouting match"
Mav starts with a knowing look, "Well, it's not just-"
"I know Mav" Rooster cut across, shooting him an irritated look, "I'm not excluding myself there - I'm well aware that I can be too hard on them. But my team isn't like the Daggers, Mav- it's like herding sheep up there! Blind sheep!-I just-" another frustrated huff, "- I wish I knew what to do"
The room falls silent, and Bradley sags back into his chair, hands rubbing furiously at his tired eyes- defeated. He lets out a long breath, and Mav stares sympathetically over at him as they both sit in the stillness, thinking.
Eventually, Mav breaks it.
"Try n' take a leaf from my book, Brad'" He hums softly, aiming for reassurance, the beginnings of a smile in his voice, "not all herding happens in the sky, y'know"
Roosters eyes peek out from beneath his cupped hands, eyeing the man dubiously. He leans forward again and removes his hands from his face, letting them steeple beneath his chin as he ponders the man's words, all the while still heavily side-eyeing him.
"What are you getting at, Mav?" He eventually murmurs back.
Mav's creeping smile eases something in his chest, yet simultaneously fills his gut with nervous anticipation, "It's supposed to be a nice day this Saturday" the older man says offhandedly, rearranges a few things on desk in a poor attempt to fake nonchalance. He shrugs, "a little trip to the beach wouldn't hurt your squad, would it?"
Recognition blazes across Roosters eyes, igniting a spark of inspiration that has the younger man sitting up ever so slightly. Those steepled fingers rub gently across the stubble on his chin, as the cogs in his brain begin to whir.
"No, I suppose it wouldn't" he confesses with a light, almost mischievous tone to match his guardians, and Mav's smile grows impossibly wider.
The elder pilot rises from his seat, shuffles some of the papers on his desk up into his arms, and circles back to the door.
"I'll let you think on it, Roo" he says, before departing with a wink.
Roo does think on it, for all of three seconds. His eyes skim Mav's cluttered desk as his brain whirrs away, and finds a familiar photograph sitting there- an image of himself, as a boy, dressed in his little league baseball gear and clutching his bat. His younger self grins out at him beneath the large rim of his oversized hat.
He's up and out of his seat in a flash, darting for the open door. He leans his head out the doorway, scanning for Mav. He spots him at the end of the left-side hallway, and just before he can turn the corner, he calls to him:
"Hey, Mav?"
The elder stops, turns, "Yeah?"
"Do you still have my old bat?"
Mav's smile is all teeth- boyish and wicked.
True to Mav's word, Saturday morning was indeed a scorcher- Well, for October, that is. A bright, sunny morning, with barely a cloud in sight. And, due to the natural aviator instinct of rising early to embrace the day- there were hardly any people around either.
Rooster pulled his truck up to a spot just behind Penny's bar at six o'clock on the dot. He, accompanied by Mav, hopped out of the truck and circled round to the walkway that lead down to the beach. It was there that the two aviators spotted a small cluster of familiar figures waiting down by the shore.
Six heads whirled round at the sound of their footsteps, greeting the pair with groggy half-smiles or grumbled 'hello's'.
"Mornin' kids" Mav says warmly as he approaches, smirking at their tired and disheveled states, "how are we all feelin'?"
"Not great" Hounds honest reply stands out admist the polite grunts and hm's of acknowledgment, fighting back a yawn and running a hand through his unruly morning curls. Behind him, Twix wobbles on tired legs when a light breeze threatens to push him over. Rooster fights a grin by biting on the inside of his cheek.
"Oh?" Mav says, feigning surprise and too struggling with his own encroaching amusement, "Why's that, soldier?"
"My Saturday mornings are usually reserved for sleeping in, Sir" he says, just a touch sour, "not for waking up at the asscrack of dawn to play games"
"Actually, This isn't a game" Rooster pipes up, staring him down behind his sunglasses as he shuffles a large duffel bag off his shoulder. It hits the ground with a dull thud. "this is training"
"Training?" Guild, the eldest of his students, asks incredulously, arms folded and huffing out a derisive laugh. Their youngest, Dodger, stands beside him, mimicking his stance- the pair reminding him of Peter Pan and his shadow. Rooster cant quite see the girls face beneath the large brim of her tattered baseball cap, but if he had to make a guess, it would most likely be mirroring Guilds current confounded grimace.
Rooster squares the taller of the duo with a look, and smirks sarcastically, "Baseball is a pretty strategic game. would you not agree, soldier?"
Guild blinks. "Yes-?"
"And games require lots of effort and teamwork" Rooster continues without missing a beat, squatting down to unzip the bag, revealing to the group an array of worn looking bats and baseballs. He glances up from the ground, "also correct?"
Guild casts a side-long glance at Dodger, and they share a look that says 'is this dude for fucking real?'.
"...Yes?" They both reply this time.
"Great. Glad we're all understood here" Rooster claps back with faux cheerfulness, before dismissing them entirely by focusing back towards the majority of the group, "today, you guys are going to learn the fundamental skills of team-working from the ground-up" he gives a breathy laugh at his own joke, and-just to himself- mutters out a small "Literally".
Maverick hears him despite this, and smiles.
"But, Sir" Twix interferes, raising his hand though he needn't bother to. This was the Navy, not school. Despite this, Rooster nods his head in acknowledgment, and the younger man continues, "there's only six of us- I mean, I guess we can split off into two separate teams, but wouldn't that defeat the purpose of working as a team?"
Hound nods in agreement, "Yeah, and we can't really field or bat with only three players each side"
"Of course you can't" Rooster huffs back, dusting the sand off his shins, before straitening up, "you take me for an idiot?- don't answer that, Dawson"
He hears Guild snort, and Dodgers head shake wildly in disbelief out the corner of his eye.
Their whispered conversation reaches his ears;
"I didn't even move my mouth that time" "Its creepy"
"Am I that predictable?"
Rooster chips in his own two-pence, "Just to me, kid" smirking at the girls half-hearted glower.
"Uh-Sir? are we expecting someone?" Rickroll pipes up, pointing behind him towards the trucks and cars alike that were rolling up to a stop next to Penny's closed bar.
Mav looks to Rooster, asks, "Team two?"
Rooster gives Mav a pat on the shoulder, "Stay here" he orders his students.
He's halfway back up the beach, when a gaggle of aviators make their way down to him, both meeting somewhere in the middle. Pheonix and Hangman take lead of the group, trudging through the sand with quick strides, whilst the rear is brought up by some familiar- and very missed- faces.
Coyote and Payback could be heard before they were seen, laughing and joking exuberantly- a stark contrast to Nat and Jake, who look half asleep still. He knew the feeling- the life of an instructor was tiring work.
Rooster can't squash the warm feeling that buzzes in his stomach at the sight of his pseudo-family. There's a sound smile in his greeting,
"Mornin' guys"
The boys are more than happy to extend their own cheerful greetings, (even Hangman), whilst Pheonix just glares at him- it seems he was having that affect with women today. He's laughing lightly at her, watching the frown slowly dissolve into something akin to a smirk.
"You owe us big time for this, Roo" She grunts, fixing her shades. "Bobs on his way- just stuck in traffic"
"Don't act like you won't enjoy this" he parries back, greeting Coyote and Payback with gripping hugs and many boisterous shoulder pats, before walking them back to his group of stunned students.
"Alright!" He claps his hands, ready to introduce his second team, when he stops in place, noticing they were a member short, and glances behind him to scan the beach wildly, "Fanboy?"
"Visiting family back home" Payback says, and the upbeat mood simmers slightly, "he told me to say Hi"
"Too bad" Mav replies, greeting the two boys with the same fondness Rooster had, albeit a lot more 'Mavdad-like'. "He's gonna miss a good game here"
Hangman waves the man's comment off, "We'll send him some videos of team-dagger kicking ass"
"Don't speak too soon, Jake" Mav warns good-naturedly, to which the younger man lets out an arrogant 'pssh'-noise, pretending to stretch his arms in a quick 'warm-up'.
Rooster rolls his eyes behind his glasses, before confronting his students, "Look Alive, Ducks- your competition has arrived. I'd like you all to meet my squad: the Daggers"
Said students are just short of gawping, eyes wide and jaws hanging open at the sight of the infamous Daggers: each renowned Topgun legends since their mission back in twenty-nineteen.
This was who they were playing against?
"We're dead" Twix whispers to Checkers, who nods wordlessly in acceptance.
It seemed the Daggers were in similar agreeance too. "Oh, wow" Coyote whistles, not bothering to conceal his mirth. "yep. we're gonna absolutely smoke you guys"
Hound frowns, spots a challenge, and steps forward with a scoff. "Speak for yourself" he says, arms crossed defensively, "aren't you guys all pushing forty?"
"I'm thirty-six" Hangman deadpans.
Hound raises a brow at him, "Point proven"
It was Jakes turn to scoff, "Thirty-six is nowhere near forty"
"Actually, It's over halfway there" Twix adds in.
"Shut up, kid" Coyote laughs from behind Hangman's shoulder, "what are you then? Fifteen?"
"Oof, Close" He retaliates, a shit eating grin working it's way at his face. "M' twenty-three."
"Which is pretty far away from forty" checkers adds, slinging an arm round his teammates shoulder.
"Christ" Rooster sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "okay, enough". He beckons the Daggers back a few paces before a fight could escalate, and swiftly rounds in on them.
"Guys, are you for real right now?" He hisses, making sure to keep his voice low and his back to his students "you seriously gonna pick a fight with my students?!"
"I was cool 'til they made fun of our age" Coyote replied, glaring over Roosters shoulder, levelling his scowl at Hound and Twix in particular.
"No one tell them I'm forty-one" Payback mutters to his friends, looking nervous.
"Your secrets safe with me, Sir" Dodgers small voice chirps from the side, saluting Payback when his wide eyes swivel to find her.
He turns back to the Daggers with a disbelieving stare, "Okay, the small one?- scarily good hearing"
"It's less 'good hearing', and more being a nosy brat" Rooster says, making a point to amplify the last two words. The kid flashes a cheeky smile when he half-turns to spy her, zeroing a pointed look over the top of his shades.
"Just.. be nice" He says after a long sigh, his squad looking just slightly apologetic. "this is about getting the kids to play as a team, not create world war three"
There's a few collective mutters of agreement from the boys, as well as an innocent shrug from a quiet Phoenix, before Rooster turns back to the task at hand.
"Team Ducks! go carve out a base" He orders sharply, clapping his hands in a wordless way of telling them to 'hop to it'. "you're fielding first"
The students begin doing as they were told, Dodger kneeling down by the duffel and rooting through to find something that could substitute at a base, passing them up to checkers. The other boys are already a few paces away, tracing out an area with their feet and discussing how far away each base needs to be.
Mav's ears perk up when he hears distant jogging footsteps, and turns to spy Bob heading down the walkway to meet them, "Sorry I'm late guys!" He huffs, "There was a crash further down the freeway so I had to take an earlier exit"
"No worries Bobby!" Jake greets, clapping the younger teammate on the back in welcome. "we were just about to start"
The rest of the team greet their youngest squad member with palpable fondness, hugging him about the shoulders, ruffling his hair, even stealing a kiss on the cheek ("Payback, knock it off") before a short gasp steals their attention.
"Holy-" an excited little voice exclaims, and the youngest Dagger sees Rooster wearily shaking his head, Hangman grinning knowingly, and Phoenix wearing a fond look- all three gazing at something just behind his right shoulder.
"Bob Floyd?!"
The aviator whirls round at the sound of his name, looking down in the sand at the crouched young girl, who- heavily distracted- chucks a baseball bat up at her unsuspecting teammate ("woah- hey!") before standing and feverishly brushing the sand off her knees.
She smiles up at him, bright and cheerful and says his name again. Bob glances wearily at his Co-pilot,
"Nat...The little one knows my name"
Dodger, bouncing nervously on her haunches, opts to ignore the 'little' comment, in favour of her overwhelming excitement.
"'Course I know your name" is her enthusiastic reply. "You're like, one of the best Wizzo's the navy has seen in this turn of the century! not to mention your skills during the uranium mission back in 19' - I researched into that mission a fair bit" she quickly added with a shy grin, stepping closer to the man.
She's barely taking a moment to breathe, before jumping back into her long-winded monologue, "your aircraft dropped missiles in three-point-eight seconds of breaching the site" she whistles, impressed, and Bob manages a shaky smile at the appraisal. "dude, I've never known someone to lock onto a target faster than you, it was insanely impressive if you don't mind me saying"
"Why does it sound like she's reciting all this directly from Wikipedia?" Hangman whispers to Rooster, but the older man spots the fond smirk begging to pull at his lips. It makes his own threaten to quiver as he replies, "she probably is"
"Oh. Wow" Bob says, scratching the back of his head when he hears Mav chuckling off to the side, offering to help checkers with the equipment after Dodger abandoned her post. Phoenix nudges him playfully in the side. "thanks, I guess"
"Hey kid?" Hangman asks, as he and Rooster circle closer, one to actually join the conversation, and the other to keep a weary eye on his student. "is Bobby on that little list of yours?"
The kid pries her eyes away from Bob for a moment to flash the other pilot a slanted smirk, "Don't you have a floor to mop, janitor jealous?"
Hangman purses his lips at the comment, and leans closer to Nat, "Phoe, Do I look like a janitor to you?" He asks.
She smirks, "Well, now that you mention it.."
He throws her a playful glare, one she mimics straight back, before their faces dissolve into a shared smile.
"Uh, List?" Bob asks, looking very lost.
"I have a ranked list of my favourite aviators, Sir" Dodger explains, briefly aware of the presence of her Instructor as he looms over her head. "Captain Hangman is being bitter 'cause he found out he didn't feature on it"
Bob blinks, "Oh"
"I made the list when I was ten, so you didn't make the cut either... sorry" she continues, bashful, "but if I made an updated version you'd definitely pull ranks, Sir"
He lets out a small, breathy laugh, and Rooster rolls his eyes over the top of the kids head, before placing a hand on the small of her back and steering her off to the side.
"Alright, suck up" he says, "go relieve Mav of your duty, and get back to helping Checkers"
"Sir, yes, Sir" is her monotonous reply.
"And cut the cheek, wise ass" he snaps as she begins to walk away, "we may be off base, but I'm still your Captain"
"So you keep reminding me" she quips back over her shoulder, running to help Checkers before he could drop anymore baseballs from his arms.
"Cute kid" Bob says to him in a soft voice, a small, shy grin lifting his lips.
"Ain't she just?" Rooster agrees with a caustic laugh, very obviously faking his cheerfulness, "She's like a walking contraceptive ad" he says through gritted teeth, smiling sweetly, falsely- making Bob fight to suppress a laugh of his own "A daily reminder to never have ones of my own"
"Don't be fooled, Bobby" Hangman whispers as Rooster takes leave to see to his unruly students, who were now all arguing on where to mark the bases in the sand. "He's smitten"
Bob smiles back, now laughing, "I can tell"
The game began with Team Daggers batting first.
And as it turned out, the majority of the team were pretty decent players, even Bob, despite openly declaring that he'd never been one for baseball as a kid. Nevertheless, when Hound pitched the ball to him he made a smooth-sailing hit, shocking the rest of his team into a deafening round of applause.
"Nice hit, Bobby!" Hangman called from third base as Bob managed to safely reach first, before turning and giving Dodger- who was currently the baseman for third- a sound tap on the bill of her tattered old cap in greeting. She grumbled a warning "Watch it", and he grinned toothily at her mock-annoyance.
Next up was Payback, sauntering up to the base and making a show of getting into his batting stance, making several members of team Duck laugh loudly. The Daggers just shook their heads at his embarrassing antics.
"You ready?" Hound asked, tossing the ball in his hand.
Payback smirked, "born ready"
Hound pitched, and he swung- missing completely.
"Strike!" Mav yelled from his deckchair, dozing lightly in the sun, yet still keeping up with his duties as designated Referee.
"What?!" Payback gasps in shock, jabbing a finger towards Hound and loudly declaring, "Mav, that was a foul ball!"
"No foul" Mav says, eyes crinkling behind his shades, leaning back against the chair, smiling wistfully to himself. “Play ball”
Payback grumbled something under his breath, but shifted back into a stance once more. The next ball Hound sent his way made contact, soaring up into the heavens, where Team Ducks outfielders rushed to catch it, yelling loud expletives as they did.
Hangman, Bob and Payback each set out into a sprint, passing the makeshift bases whilst their opposers continued to struggle passing the flyaway ball back to home. They managed two runs- Payback getting caught on third when the ball sailed back to the pitching mound.
Rooster was up next to bat, ignoring the antagonising crows from his students as he stepped into the ‘batters box’- shouts of, “ooh back up guys, here comes ‘Mr. Peewee champion’” and “don’t hurt your back when you swing, Cap” coming from the field.
“Cmon, Roo!” Coyote yelled from the designated ‘dug-out’ area, clapping his hands loudly and twitching on the balls of his feet, barely able to keep himself still- his itching competitiveness revealing itself the more the game played out. “Don’t let your kids trash-talk you like that! Show em all up!”
‘My kids?’
He adjusted his cap, hardly having a moment to ready himself before Hound pitched- the ball leaving his hand, speeding towards him like a bullet from a gun. He swung- and hit.
“Woah!” Came a series of cries from the fielders, as the ball soared straight over their heads, heading for the shore.
“Shit- get it!” Twix, one of the outfielders, could be heard yelling to Checkers as Rooster broke out into a run for first base, “don’t lose it! Don’t lose it!”
Team ducks began to panic as their captain passed first, heading for second- team Daggers loudly spurring him on. He reached second, not stopping there, and Hound swears loudly, “shit! he’s going for home!”.
Dodger looks to the outfield, just as Checkers retrieves the ball before it could roll into the water and disappear forever. “Got it!” He yelled, tossing to Twix, who then shouted for third base, “Dodger! Catch!”
The ball spiralled towards Judy’s outstretched palm, her Captains heavy footsteps closing in. It meets her hand just as Rosters foot touches the base, forcing him to halt with a disgruntled huff.
“Out! He’s out! We got him out!” the Ducks began to chorus, whilst team Daggers argued in opposition “are you blind!? He’s in! He’s clearly in!”. All eyes turned to Mav, eagerly waiting for his verdict.
“Safe” Mav declared without looking, still dozing, chuckling softly to himself when several loud groans of dismay followed his words.
Breathless, Rooster glanced down at Judy, and found her pouting mockingly up at him. "Aw, so close" she goads, tossing the ball up in her hand, before letting it sail back to Hound. She smiles, all teeth, "but yet, so far"
Rooster huffs, wiping his brow with the back of his arm, glaring with no real heat, "Just you wait til' we switch, Dawson"
She laughs.
"Sorry I couldn't hear you over all that middle-aged wheezing" she says, feeling brave enough to talk up to her instructor, "save your breath, Cap- you'll need it to catch up with us youths"
"Youths?" He snorts at her choice of wording, before tonguing the inside of his cheek and shaking his head. This kid.
"Oh, you're so done for"
The two teams switched over at the half-inning change, allowing the Ducks to show off their batting skills, which were pretty on par with that of the Daggers.
Hound was a natural player (not really surprising for a young man of his build), managing to score a run for their team, followed by another two runs by Checkers and Rickroll, slowly closing the gap between the scores- not that anyone was sure Mav was still paying attention.
Hangman, the second baseman, respectfully compliments Guilds surprising sprint from second to home, before facing the dug-out.
He spots Dodger waiting to bay, cups his hands around his mouth, and shouts, “You're next, pipsqueak!"
She starts at the name, “Pip-?" She scowls, “I'm not that small!"
Coyote, the new pitcher, grins, “you are from our point of view, shortie"
Hangman laughs, and Judy bristles, "Wh-"
"Dodge" Rooster calls across the field, his tone alone warning her to drop it. "cmon, you're up."
With slight reluctance, Dodger steps up to the plate- well, she steps up to Rickrolls backpack that was substituting for a the batters plate- and tightens her grip on the bat in her hands, eyes levelled toward Coyote.
Javy, still grinning, tosses the baseball a few times in the air, before dropping the smile and readying himself.
"Come on, Dodge!" Twix lightly calls from behind, as she adjusts herself into the proper stance. "You got this!"
She hums back non-commital, feeling oddly nervous under the eyes of so many people. She breathes deep, absently touches the brim of her hat for good luck, and sees the ball leave Coyote’s hand- hurtling towards her at an alarming speed. She swings-
WHAM.
Her bat makes contact, and she feels the force of it vibrate up the wood and judder against her fingertips. The ball doesn't soar quite as high as the boys' had, but it's still a pretty impressive shot that leaves her momentarily stunned, standing there like an idiot. She realises belatedly that her squad are cheering her loudly when-
"Jesus Christ- RUN, DODGE!" Her Captain shouts from across the beach, his voice snapping her from her daze and spurring her into motion. Her feet slap against the wet sand as she zips about the bases, passing the first with ease as the daggers charge after the rouge baseball skipping across the ground. Hangman and rooster, guarding their respective bases, have other ideas.
They do their best to block the path of the sprinting Duckling, who beams under the praise of her teammates as they cheer loudly for her to keep running. Hangman, who stands by second base, side-steps in front of her to prevent her from exceeding to third. True to her name, she dodges around him, just managing to slip out of the hands that try to grab at her forearms with a breathless laugh.
"Cheater!" She hollers over her shoulder, hears him laugh loudly in response, before charging to third- where Rooster waits for her. She spots the devious glint in his eyes over his slipping aviators, and picks up her speed, opting to swerve around him too as Bob retrieves her ball and tosses it with impressive precision to Phoenix.
Rooster has other plans however, and manages to grab her just as she scurries past him, hauling the short teen clear off her feet.
"Wait-No!-" She cries indignantly, laughing loudly, grappling at the arms that clamp around her and swing her up into the air.
In a flash, she's being tossed onto the wet Sandy floor, landing with an "oof" as Roosters knee gently presses down onto one of her legs- trapping it in place and preventing her from going anywhere. She grapples with him, small fists punching at his arms, giggling despite her annoyance, but his larger, quicker hands bat away her attempts as though they were nothing.
"Hey!" She finally cries around a bout of hysterical laughter, "what the-!" She wriggles against his hold, twisting about fitfully, trying to break free. She calls for Mav, "Referee! Do something-!” and breaks off into a loud giggle when the hand that wasn't holding her wrists together make a jab for her ticklish sides. “stop!-" she gasps between laughter, "THIS.IS.CHEATING!!"
"No foul!" Mav laughs from his chair.
“What?" Hound yells from the makeshift 'Dug-out', "what do you mean no foul?!"
The older man smiles, pushing his sunglasses further up his nose, "I wasn't looking," and then repeats, "no foul"
Judy gives a loud, indignant squark, some now wet strands of hair sticking to her cheeks as bits of sand begin to blow into her mouth and cause her to splutter on her next sentence. Roosters small chuckle rumbles overhead, as he continues to make sure the kid didn't make it passed third base before the ball made it back from the field.
"Then what's-" a breathy wheeze, "-the point-" a gasping giggle, "-of you?!" She finishes with a loud huff, still struggling for freedom.
There's a shout from nearby, before Roosters free hand is catching the flying ball, shoving it under the ticklish girls chin, jabbing it into her sides, even tapping it against her forehead annoyingly- all the while chanting "you're out, you're out, you're out"
"Ow, ow- I get it!" She wheezes between laughter, trying to bat him away and steal a breath of air, "I'm out!"
The knee pressing down on her leg is lifted, and a hand tugs her up from the ground and back on her feet. She's still spluttering on sand and laughter, trying to fix her hair, groaning when the same large hand muses it up even more.
She shoves him away, and he pretends to stumble, scoffing at her as she trudges out of field, looking very windswept- Team Dagger laughing as she goes.
“Better luck next time, kid” Hangman calls, and she not-so-subtly flips him the bird- making him laugh louder.
Now out, instead of heading back to the dug-out, the girl decides to pull up a camp chair a few paces from Mav, and joins him in basking in the sun.
“You did pretty good, Judy” Mav says, a teasing smile in his voice.
“Don’t talk to me, traitor” the girl mumbles back, making the other man chuckle. He hears her grumbling absently under her breath as they both turn back to surveying the game, lapsing into a compatible silence, only broken by the occasional offhand comment by Mav.
After watching Rooster successfully strike-out Twix at third, Dodgers attention wavers, and soon she too finds herself dozing lightly beneath the heat of the morning sun- startling a good fifteen minutes later when a second camp chair is pulled up beside her, and Rooster parks himself down with a sigh.
“Having fun?" He asks noncommittally, rolling his shoulder with a hiss, nursing a painful muscle there with his free hand.
"Yeah, actually" Dodger replies honestly, eyes drawn back to the game, that was slowly becoming less like a baseball and more a competition of ‘how far can we hit the balls into the ocean’. She smiles at the scene, “today’s been great"
Rooster glances sideways at the kid, his own smile barely conceivable, and if you looked closely, almost touching wistful.
"Good" he breathes, and then, squaring himself, "I uh- hope you know this isn't us slacking off and having a freebie" he clears his throat awkwardly and she spares him a sarcastic look, one brow raised at him, "you better still be taking notes from what you've learnt"
She rolls her eyes, tugging her cap further down over her face to act as a sun-shade.
"Sure" she says, laying back in her seat, "lemme just pull a notepad and pen out my ass"
He frowns, "Language"
"English" she replies.
It’s his turn to rolls his eyes. "Smartass" he mutters beneath his breath.
"Language" Mav calls from his deck chair, causing the man to scoff indignantly as the young girl laughed loudly in turn.
"How did he even hear that?" He asks the open air.
"I hear everything, young man" Mav replies, and then, "that goes for you too, Judy"
A chiming laugh, and a half-hearted salute follows his words, “Yes, Sir"
Mav returns the salute, their attention broken by a shout in the distance- Hangman had managed to hit the ball furthest into the sea from their batting point, where it was now fast being swept away by the tide.
"You were right, kid" Rooster suddenly confesses after a long bout of silence. Judy’s eyes pull away from the beach, resting on her Captains contemplative face with contrasting confusion.
"'Bout what?" She asks in a small voice.
He looks over at her. “The way I teach" He says.
He watches as her eyes blow wide, lips opening and closing as she stutters for a reply, “Cap. listen, I'm- I'm really sorry for what I said- it was totally out of order and-"
“-don't be. You were right" He quickly interrupts.
"-I can only apolo- woah, what?" She pauses, cheeks mid-blush, blinking dumbfoundedly at him, “…You're letting me off?"
"I threw you in the deep end," Rooster confessed, a reflective pause in his speech as he gazed back out to the shoreline, where the Ducks and Daggers were kicking up waves in the water, bats and balls momentarily discarded in the sand, “I expected you guys to get up in the sky and automatically know how to work as a team- no questions asked. That was wrong of me." He glanced back over to Judy, his hard expression softening. "Mav reminded me that there are other ways to teach- other ways to learn."
She stares back at him, her own features mellowing in understanding.
"'’realised I needed to go back to basics" he said, and she hummed in agreement- It was a clever tactic. And it had proved successful, twice.
She smirked, “so-uh...baseball?"
"It's a team sport" he said with a shrug.
"Lots of sports are team sports, Cap"
“Yeah, but baseball’s the most fun" he parries back, making her laugh beneath her breath.
"Pssh -Yeah. You would say that, Captain peewee" she teases, gesturing to his old varsity team baseball hat.
"Don't get too cocky, Dawson" he says, tipping the frayed bill of her own hat down below her eyes, “that Homerun's gone to your head"
"Wasnt a Homerun, remember?" She replied, leaning out of his reach to adjust her cap, “Some asshole on third base blocked me"
"Good for him" he chuckled slyly, “you need taken down a few pegs"
She scoffs, “And you need-" her next words are cut short with a startled exclamation, as she was suddenly lifted out of her chair and into the air, “woah! What the-" she gaps in shock, as her squad each grab an arm or leg, and together, carry her up and off down to the water. “Hey!- Boys! put me down!" She yells, tone touching somewhere between amused and nervous.
She twists in their grasp, straining to spot Rooster, still lounging in his chair, a devious smile plastered across his face as he watches them go, “Cap!” She calls to him, “Tell them to put me down!"
"Mav?" Rooster asks the other man, “Do you hear something?"
Mav’s sly grin is just as prominent, his tone light and teasing, “Nope" he says.
"Huh” Rooster hums to himself, feigning stupidity, whilst his youngest student continues to distantly plead for help. “must've been the wind"
Dodger glares at him, a few runaway giggles tumbling out between gritted teeth when the boys begin swaying her left to right like a human skipping rope. “You asshole!" She yells.
"aggressive wind" Mav says, and the two gentlemen share a small laugh, closing their eyes and basking in the blissful morning once more. Moments later, they would hear the telltale sounds of girlish screeching, (“Nononono-boys, wait-!”) before a loud splashing of water, as the youngest Duck was tossed into the sea
Notes:
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this silly little chapter. Next one should hopefully be up sooner than this update. Til then! Take care x
(Please let me know what you thought of this chapter with a little comment, they really are a great source of writing-fuel)
Chapter 12: Back to Basics
Summary:
Dodger is a great flyer, even Rooster would agree, but there’s few things she can’t do- like ride a two-wheeler bike.
Notes:
Hello! Happy Christmas season! I’m back with another chapter!
This one is a bit of a silly prompt, but the idea popped into my head a few weeks back and wouldn’t leave me alone- so I wrote it. I hope you like this little filler moment of Rooster trying to teach his wayward student how to ride a bike.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Bradley Bradshaw relished the weekends- especially since becoming an instructor.
Those weekdays teaching on base exhausted him, and now? there was absolutely nothing he savoured more, than sitting at the kitchen bar on a Saturday morning with Mav and Penny, all quietly chomping away at their breakfast whilst Penny's dog, Theo, nosed at their shins, begging for crumbs.
He threw the sandy-haired mutt a crust of toast (much to Penny's disapproval- "He's fat enough as it is, Brad") before slouching back against the bar stool and breathing a sigh of relief- mentally gearing up to enjoy his quiet, peaceful, squad-ling free weekend.
That was, until the kitchen door opened, and Amelia noisily barged in...with one of his ducklings dutifully in tow.
Three guesses who.
"Mornin' family!" Amelia chorused loudly, patting her mother on the back and stealing a slice of Mav's toast on her way into the main kitchen area. Rooster heard Mav grumble under his breath beside him, and smirked, only relieved that the girl hadn't chosen to swipe food from his plate. She'd have lost a finger in the process.
“Hey guys" Dodger greets behind her, more subdued than the likes of Amelia, but still just as jovial and bright. As always, her salutations get a warm welcome from Penny and Mav, both turning in their seats to follow the girl with their eyes as she too makes her way round the breakfast bar and into the kitchen area.
Bradley stared ahead of him at a spot on the far wall, believing that if he wished hard enough, his student would magically go away. "Hey, Cap" the girl greets, almost knowingly, leaning into his space and breaking his eye-contact so he had no choice but to acknowledge her irritating presence.
He sighed, swivelling his head to meet hers, almost butting foreheads in the process. "Out of my face, Dawson- before you lose an eye" he threatened with no real heat. The girl grinned toothily at him, and quickly, purposely ruffled his bedhead hair- dodging the narrow swipe of his hand when he aimed for her in retaliation. She scurried over to the far counter with a breathy laugh, where Amelia was currently pouring both of them a glass of water.
"Im surprised you're up so early, 'mels" Penny quips to her daughter, smirking around her cup of coffee.
Mav hums in agreement, before adding "where've you been all morning?"
Dodger watches in silent amusement as Amelia scoffs and rolls her eyes at her parents, "I met Judy for breakfast at that new pancake place that's opened up" she says, placing the ice-water jug back in the fridge, "you know, the one by the florist?"
"I know the one" Mav chimes, glancing up from his half-eaten eggs, "any good?"
"Very good" Judy replies after a long sip of water, before turning to Amelia with a forming grin. "But, I think we could do better"
“I think you're right" Amelia agrees, picking up her own glass and clinking it against hers.
“I think you're both deranged" Bradley pipes up, giving a satisfied look when both teens turn to scowl at him. Mav hides a smirk behind his fork as Penny lightly admonishes him with a soft, "oh, quit being so bitter, Bradley"
"What?" he exclaims in defence, pointing his fork towards the girls, bits of scrambled egg wobbling on the end of the silver prongs. "You really want two teenage girls making a shit-show of your kitchen?"
"We wouldn't make a shit-show" Amelia barks back, crossing her arms and gearing herself up for an argument with her pseudo-big-brother.
“Mhm. Sure"
“Mh-sure-mehmehmeh" she mocks him under her breath, "jackass"
“Amelia" Warn Mav and Penny both this time, neither amused by the young lady's bad-mouthing.
Amelia falls silent, crossing her arms and glaring at Bradley from across the room, who pretentiously munches on his last piece of toast, smirking back. Judy merely grins at the interaction, always surprised to see her Captain behaving so...domestically, in comparison to the Bradley Bradshaw she usually witnessed during teaching hours.
“You girls have anything else planned for today?" Mav asked, changing the topic of conversation before their two children (though one of them was a grown adult, and therefore should know better) caused an uproar in the middle of the kitchen- Ever the pacifist, Judy suspected. A well-needed role with this family, no doubt.
“Hopefully something far away from here" Brad continues to quip under his breath, and he hears Penny chuckle whilst Amelia suppresses an indignant scoff. Mav's socked-foot kicks him warningly in the shin. Amelia, thankfully, takes the conversational bait, and spares Mav a sound shrug.
“We dunno' yet- ooh!" She cuts herself off, suddenly inspired. She spins to face Judy, who starts in alarm, elbow almost slipping off the counter she leant on. "We could take the bikes out and go for a ride down by the beach?"
Judy pales at the idea, face twisting into a surprised, albeit forcefully polite smile. “Oh" is all she manages in reply.
Bradley's eyes narrow from across the room, a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth.
"That sounds like a great idea" Penny agrees in true motherly fashion, her kind eyes turning to Dodger, "Judy, honey, you can borrow my bike"
"Oh...thanks" is the girls reply, whistled out through clenched teeth, whilst Amelia beams out a "it's the perfect weather for it! we should pack a lunch too, so we can stay out all day!"
"Not too long though, 'melia" Mav intervenes, discreetly feeding Theo the last of his scrambled eggs "I want you two to head back when it starts getting dark, okay?"
Amelia rolls her eyes good naturedly, "fine" she concedes with a small huff, before rummaging through the fridge for some snacks to throw in her backpack, unaware of her friends increasing edginess as the minutes press on.
Bradley, who'd been silently observing his students rather...meek reaction for some time, meets her gaze, and absorbs her nervous, beady-eyed look.
She blinks at him- And he folds, cracking up loudly.
His laughter shocks everyone in the room, making all four individuals- plus the dog- jump unexpectedly. This, of course, makes him laugh all the more.
Judy's face flames beneath the loud cackles, and she quickly averts her gaze downward. She stares hard into her drink, and briefly wonders if its possibly to drown yourself in such a small body of water.
“What’s he laughing at?" Amelia asks her, poking her head back out the fridge to stare at her pseudo-brother, as he tries to choke down his coffee amidst his wry chuckles. She glances over her shoulder at Judy, "And he said we were deranged"
Mav and Penny smile nervously across at the younger man, before glancing at each other, both looking completely lost.
"Oh, wow" Bradley eventually breathes, having caught his breath, "This is too good" he says, laughs one more time, and then, "Damn, kid- you're really somethin’, I'll give you that" The kid in question spares him an unimpressed look, whilst everyone else in the room looks at him like he's grown a second head.
"What?" Brad asks in defence of their affronted staring, "am I the only one paying attention here? Y'all don't have eyes?!"
"Eyes for what?" Mav asks, genuinely confused.
The last of his chuckles die away, and he gestures to the girl, rolling his eyes at the obviousness of it:
“She can't ride a bike"
"I can't believe you're putting me up to this shit"
Maverick smirked, parking himself nicely on the front porch step of their house. Rooster stands beside him, and the older man averts his sly grin up at him, sunglasses glinting in the light.
"You wanna be a smartass, Mr. Bradley know-it-all Bradshaw? then you get to be teacher for the day"
Bradley had the brains to wear his own sunglasses, mainly so Mav couldn't see the way he rolled his eyes behind them. "I'm a teacher everyday, Mav" he replied with a huff, "this is my day off"
"Well, now you're working overtime"
The younger man groans audibly- the noise making the father chuckle at his boys (see: grown ass man) expense, "Bet this'll make you think twice before laughin, huh?" He asks.
"Why me?" Rooster parries back, ignoring the man's taunting question, and barely keeping the whine out of his voice. "Why not you, huh?"
"She's already your student" is the aviators simple reply, "might aswell keep it familiar for her"
Rooster shakes his head, bites the inside of his cheek, and glances out to the quiet road of the culdesac (a convenient street, with many of their neighbours also being naval aviators-each house adorned with their own hangar for their plentiful collection of planes). There, in the middle of the road he spots Amelia and Judy, the latter climbing atop of the other girls borrowed bike, wobbling precariously when she manages to loop one leg over- despite the other foot still firmly touching the asphalt. Amelia holds the handles for her, helping the girl balance as she adjusts herself into a very un-relaxed looking sitting position.
Rooster glances back down to Mav, and scowls, "you love all this, don't you?"
Shoulders shrug up innocently,"Dunno what you're talking about"
"Hm" The son hums, "right"
Then, Mav was shooing him away with an encouraging (see: teasing) "go get 'em, Tiger", and Bradley reluctantly trudged down the porch steps- heading toward the two girls.
Amelia watches him approach, wearing a devious grin of her own- looking scarily like Mav. He’s briefly reminded of the time he asked Penny if she was sure Amelia wasn't Mav's kid. "Dear god, I hope not" was her wry response, "the world can barely cope with one Maverick"
His student spares him a fleeting glance, looking incredibly tense as opposed to Amelia's relaxed posture.
“Mr Bradshaw" Amelia greets, "your class of one is ready when you are"
Rooster growls low in the back of his throat, "It's Captain, Amelia" he corrects.
"No need for formalities, Mr Bradshaw- I’m only Captain Amelia when I’m on duty" Is the girls clever reply, making Judy's lips quirk despite her anxiety, and Bradley want to throttle the youngest Benjamin woman. Mav's ringing laughter could be heard from the porch, only souring his mood further. Damn that man for having an unnaturally good sense of hearing.
"Ugh" he bemoans, pinching the bridge of his nose, "The fact that there's two of you little shits now.." his sentences trails off into a low humdrum of unintelligible rambling "-puttin me in an early grave, I swear"
"Let's hurry it up, before we all end up in an early grave, Mr. Bradshaw" Judy pipes up, desperately wanting this whole 'Rooster can teach you how to ride a bike, kiddo' ordeal to be over as quickly as possible. Thanks a bunch, Mav.
“Don't you start, Miss Dawson" Her instructor snaps, fixing his slipping glasses and pointing a finger over at her. "I'm still Captain to you whether it's teaching hours or not"
"And you" he turns on Amelia, his accusing finger swivelling round to jab at her collarbone, "quit being a bad influence on my k-Student"
Amelia balks, missing the slip-up, and blinks offendedly "How can I be the bad influence here? I'm younger than her!" Eighteen months younger, but it still counted for something.
“Yeah, but she's on your turf now" Bradley defends, making another pointed jab at her torso, retreating when Amelia slapped the offending appendage away. "So the age thing cancels out"
“Turf" Dodger snorts to herself, and two sets of eyes whirl round at her whisper.
“Shut it, pipsqueak" Rooster snaps, rapping his knuckles against her helmeted head. Penny's idea. ("Pen, She's fine", "She hasn't ridden a bike before, Mav. She could fall and hurt herself!")
"Ow" the girl harps back, despite the action not hurting at all. Rooster rolls his eyes at her dramatics.
“I don't believe this" he continues to mumble as he pushes Amelia out the way, and holds the handlebars steady himself whilst gesturing for Judy to shimmy further back on the seat. She does so, uncoordinatedly, grabbing his arm when the bike wobbles.“Best pilot in her class" he shakes his head in disbelief as he says it, "but can't ride a freakin' two-wheeler"
The kid squints up at him against the low glaring sun, helmet slipping slightly and features shifting into a shit-eating grin.
"You think I'm the best in my class?" She asks.
He levels her a tiresome look. "Push your luck, Dawson" he warns, voice blunt, “and I'll push you off the bike"
"Okaysorrysir"
"Threatening your pupils" Amelia tuts from the side, crossing her arms and shaking her head, "You got some weird teaching methods, Brad"
“They're my teaching methods, and they work" he growls back, before brandishing a hand at Dodger, "see? I have her full attention now" he says, prying away the hands still clutching his arm and repositioning it back onto the handlebar. He glances back to Amelia, still watching and says “oh, and I don't have teaching assistants" then, he dismisses her with a shoo-ing motion. "Go sit with Mav on the porch"
"I'm here for moral support" Amelia defends, crossing her arms.
"You're here to be a pain in my ass, now move" Amelia looks as though she’s about to protest, but Brad puts on his best, most stern teacher-face. The “do-as-I-say-or-else” one. Dodger loathed that one- as during teaching hours it was more than often reserved for her.
Amelia blinks at him, quirks a brow, before relenting with a huff. She glances back to Dodger. “God speed, Judy" she deadpans.
“Thanks" is the equally blunt reply.
Teacher and student both watch the girl leave, trudging back to the house and taking a seat beside Mav on the porch step. The older man bumps shoulders with the girl, lifting her scowl into somewhat of a reluctant grin.
“Okay” Rooster says most unenthusiastically, turning his attention back to Dodger, “Now we can begin"
"You're gonna need to pedal more than that, kid, or you're never gonna stay up"
The girl on the bike teeters, foot slipping when the chain rings get caught in the crank arm. She huffs, “But if I pedal more, I go faster"
“Yeah" Rooster deadpans from beside her, having rushed forward to grab the handles when the bike swayed precariously. He pressed down on the brakes, forcing the girl to stop, and blinks down at her, "that's the whole point"
The girl scowls up at him, “I don't want to go too fast, or I'll fall off" she says, speaking to him as though he were stupid.
“Go too slow and you’ll fall off" he counters with equal grit, removing his hands from the bars when Dodger toes down the kick stand, and folding them across his chest, “and what's this with not wanting to go fast?? you literally fly in a jet that goes eight times the speed of a car"
“Seven point five" she mumbles beneath her breath, flinching when he whacks her upside the (helmeted) head. again. She briefly hears Mav from the porch give a short, exasperated, “Brad”.
Rooster ignores the shout. “I'm the teacher here, helmet head" he says, giving another smack to the hard plastic, "and I say pedal faster"
“But-" she falters, righting the large, slipping helmet, lips pressed tight, swallowing nervously, "-um"
He frowns, brows furrowing in annoyance, “What?"
She leans closer, bike keeling to the side as she puts pressure against the stand, forcing him to grab onto the handles again to steady it- lest she fall off, again. A hand latches onto his shoulder for balance, and she leans closer, cheeks tinted red in embarrassment. Despite there being no one in earshot, she still whispers her next words, "If I go faster, can you-" she wets her dry lips, and already anticipates his response, "can you keep hold of the bike?"
"Are you for real-?" He quickly stops himself, moustache twitching with the strength it took to suppress his growing impatience. He sighs softly, whips his head a few houses back to spot Mav and Amelia still watching from the porch (The younger looking slightly bored, whilst the man was still flashing Rooster a devious looking smirk). He hangs his head for a beat, before conceding, “Yeah, kid" he says, "I'll keep hold of the damn bike"
She blinks, voice hesitant, “You won't…let go?"
“Nope" he replies all too quickly, giving her leg a small kick with his boot, making her snap to attention, placing her feet back onto the pedals, “now move it”
She gives him a cautious look, brows furrowed,“That 'nope' didn't sound very convincing"
He grabs onto the tail end of the bike for emphasis, and in a grumbly voice, orders "Pedal"
She quickly does so, and to be fair to the girl- her legs work much faster this time round. The bicycle gains momentum fairly quickly, and Rooster breaks out into a soft jog to keep up. "Woah" Dodger cries when she wobbles dangerously off balance, only righted by a stronger force behind her holding her up.
"You're good" Brad says, pushing from behind, "I got hold of you" and then, with a bit more encouragement than before, "Keep going, kid"
And Suddenly it clicked; the pedalling became much easier, as did the balancing, and in an instant she was off down the quiet street. A grin splits out across her face, the wind whipping her hair- a whooping laugh escaping her at the strange thrill. It felt just like flying.
“I’m doing it!” She cheers, momentarily taking her gaze of the street to glance behind her at her Captain- stomach flipping when he isn’t there. She gasps in shock, and spots him several yards back, arms crossed- watching her. "Hey!" She shouts, forced to look ahead again when she threatens to topple, “You let go!". She hears Mav laughing in the distance, and scowls. “You said you'd hold on!"
"I don't need to!" Was his reply, sounding almost smug. Usually it would annoy her, but this time, it only makes her smile. She laughs freely again, wild breaths almost swallowed up by the breeze pushing against her cheeks as she gains even more speed, whizzing about the cul-de-sac like she were soaring about the clouds above.
“Cap!" She shouts over the wind, turning the bike at the end of the road, and heading back their way, “Rooster, look!" And he does, almost blinded by her hundred watt smile. Her laughter rings out again, “Haha- I'm doing it!"
"Atta girl!" He finds himself hollering back, watching as she easily bypasses him, wheels zig-zagging, taking her back towards the house, “You got it now!” She pedals passed the house next, doing a few circles in front of the porch, waving to Amy, and saluting Mav- making both laugh too.
“Lookin' good, kiddo!" Mav shouts encouragingly, whilst Amelia lets loose a series of loud 'whoops' and cheers.
She slows as she turns back again, bike losing momentum and teetering. “Woa-Keep up that pace, kid" Rooster warns at her near-fall. “don't lose it now"
The girl rights herself again at his instructions, “I got it, Cap!”
He smirks when she whizzes past, single hand reaching out to give him a solid push, making him stumble on his haunches- like a jet buzzing a tower.
“Watch it!” He warns, but there’s no threat behind his words- just a smile in his voice. The only response he gets is the sound of laughter echoing down the street.
Notes:
I hope you enjoyed this silly little chapter! If you did, please let me know with a comment! they honestly do mean a lot! and if you want me to include any specific moments between characters or have any ideas of a chapter I could write- please let me know! Im all ears!
Until next time!
Have a lovely Christmas xx
Chapter 13: Crash Landing
Summary:
Flying and thunderstorms don’t mix very well
Notes:
I like to think of this chapter as the “catalyst” or “turning point”. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It was a rainy evening on base, twenty-one hundred military time to be exact.
Rooster knew this because he was checking the clock in the tower room every five minutes, the other time was spent watching the skies outside the large surrounding windows- keeping a sharp eye on his students' jets as they returned from a solo night-hop. A radio headset adorned his ears- a two-way communication between all ground control workers, and the twin aircrafts currently zipping about the air above their stations.
The routine nighttime flight was done so in pairs; Checkers and Rickroll being the first, Guild and Twix after them, and lastly Hound-Dog and Dodger.
The first two groups had performed almost without fault, the only issue being Twix- whose wings wobbled precariously on his landing, wheels bumping along the runway when the wind began picking up, and the downpour grew heavier.
However the un-scheduled storm began reaching its crescendo during Hound and Dodgers flight, causing both jets to fumble in the air several times as the clouds grew dark and heavy, brushing over from the east and making Rooster very nervous.
He glanced sideways, eyes landing on Maverick, who perched beside him behind the control desks. He sported a headset of his own, and was currently observing the screens of the air traffic controllers, who typed away at their keyboards- pressing buttons and flipping switches as they relayed orders to each other.
Maverick caught him looking, and held his gaze for a long second, a silent conversation taking place in the space between them. Rooster briefly glanced down at a worker off his right elbow, and asked, "How close is that storm?"
"Close enough, Sir" is her reply. It's spoken between bated breath, head turning briefly up to him- eyes dancing with hidden anxiety.
Rooster wet his suddenly parched lips, eyes turning back to scout Mav. The man's lips were drawn thin, pale with the force of his jaw twitching at his own uncertainty. He turned his head back to the skies, and nodded wordlessly.
Rooster quickly opened his comms, "Range Control to Ducks One and Two, this is your captain speaking" he said, speaking clearly and coherently into the mouth piece, receiving only slight feedback due to the intercepting weather conditions. "Those clouds don't look too great overhead. Circle back to the landing strip, ASAP"
"Aw" was the dual response from his students. He frowned, nostrils flaring in annoyance.
"That's an order" He barks before either can make an excuse.
"Duck Two, Hearing you loud and clear, Cap" Hounds voice peals through the headset, and a small speck in the distance turns sharply, and begins to set a course for the runway, "turning in to land as we speak"
"Receiving you...Duck two?" a young worker to Mav's left says, voice trailing off in question. He half-turns to the two captains stood just behind his shoulder, arms crossed, brows furrowed- both glaring wearily out the window. He gives them both a quick, questioning glance at the odd designation. Mav spares the man a small smile and a shrug, whilst Rooster just sighs, and mutters a low 'It's too long to explain'. The controller continues, "preparing runway for immediate landing"
"Duck one?" Rooster asks cautiously into his headset, not failing to notice his other students quiet demeanour. He pauses, waits for a reply, scowl deepening when he receives none.
"Duck one" he repeats, voice stern.
"Receiving you, Cap" is the young, disgruntled voice that replies, as well as a heavy sigh, “prepping to land"
All inhabitants of the control tower watch as Hounds aircraft lands with only slight difficulty, wings shifting dangerously at several moments- but nontheless the wheels of the jet touch down on solid asphalt, whizzing across the runway with tremendous speed. Roosters heart quite nearly plummets to his stomach when the jet veers off path a touch, slipping on the now very wet ground as the first clap of thunder strikes overhead, illuminating the sky for the briefest millisecond.
Another flash, another thunder clap- and another aircraft slowly making its way in from the distance.
Just as the range control officer was about to announce clearance for Duck one to land, a bright flash of lightning cracks across the sky above them, followed instantly by a deafening boom of thunder- the storm was right above them.
Suddenly Mav and Rooster hear a panicked voice crackling through the radio,
"-uck one- been hit-" and then a clearer cry of, "Left engine failure! Left engine failure!"
Something seized in Roosters chest at Dodgers shout- something dreadful gripped his lungs, knotted up his stomach, and wound tight around his heart.
He was certain all the air left his lungs at the next call of, "Angels three and falling"
A hand gripped his elbow, sliding up to his shoulder- steadying him.
Mav. Always Mav.
"Climb Dodge!” Hound shouted from his grounded F-18, still patched into the frequency. “Climb”
"Climbing!" Was her frantic reply.
Bradley watched from the control tower as the girls plane swerved upwards into the night, wings wobbling, trying to counter the weight of now having only one working engine. The hand on his shoulder squeezed, spurring life into him- he gasped, and began speaking quickly into the receiver.
"Range control to Duck one" He barked, words tumbling out his mouth before his brain could even fully comprehend the situation. "Level out, Dodger, Level out!"
A shaky gasp of her own met the Captain's ears, before a more composed stream of, "Receiving you, Sir. Levelling out, and proceeding to shut off fuel to left engine"
"Dodge" She heard her Captain's call come through her radio again, "can you land with only the right engine functioning?"
Maverick listened with bated breath, eyes flickering between the tower window and his pseudo-sons face. There was a small grunt on the other end of the frequency, followed by a short "Affirmative, Sir"
Rooster clutched the mouthpiece between shaky fingers, pulling it closer to his wobbling lips- as if the action alone safely secured the connection he still had with the girl currently battling against the nature above them. "Good" he breathed, eyes still frantically scanning the skies- not daring to look away. "Engage your-"
"Engaging afterburner" she was already one step ahead of him, and damn if it didn't make Roosters chest swell with something warm, something proud. "Fuel is depleting faster, Captain"
"That's alright, Dodge" He tries to calm her, as Mavericks steady hand on his shoulder tries to calm him.
"You're doing good, Duck One" Hounds voice calls through encouragingly, making Bradley's heart flutter despite the gruelling situation. His two students had come a long way since their first days at Topgun- granted it took being shoved in a locker and doused with a fire extinguisher to get them there. "You're almost home"
"I can't keep the wings steady" another nervous cry crackles through the transmitter, before a sound beeping can be heard from her end of the comms. "Front landing wheels are jammed. I repeat, front landing wheels are jammed!"
"Tell the crew to deploy a barricade net" Maverick orders, several people in the room immediately rushing to follow his command "this is gonna be a crash landing"
"Keep that nose levelled out, Dodge" Rooster tries his best to talk evenly to the girl, despite currently having his heart in his throat. His orders are stern but equally composed, so as not to let his worry bleed into his words and scare the kid anymore than she currently was.
"I'm trying!" he hears her struggle out over the radio. And then, despite how brave she'd been up until now, Bradley hears the unmistakable sound of a shaky sob. "I-I'm really s-scared, Rooster" she says next, voice wobbling heavily.
And damn if that doesn't stirr something awful in his chest again. He swallows, clears the lump from his throat, "You're doing great, Dodge" he says, speaking in the same tone he'd used just days before, when he'd been teaching her how to ride a bike. How he wished it was that simple now. "Just keep those wings level"
The beeping grows louder, Air traffic officers talk hurriedly around him- Bradley continues to clutch at the headset.
Another startled shout cuts in, "-can't control-anymore!"
"Remain calm, Dodge!"
Sharp orders fly around him, Mavericks voice joining in with the fast-paced talk. He tries to block it out, tries to focus on the small voice rattling through the radio transmitter.
"I'm going down!" She cries.
"Kid-"
"Roo-!"
The signal cracked and her last words fizzled out as the F-18 touched down on the runway with a jolt, skidding uncontrollably across the asphalt. The net thrown in place cushioned her impact, but with the sheer amount of knots the plane was already running into the ground with, it could only absorb so much of the aircrafts speed and energy. The rest was up to fate.
Rooster could hear the girls static shrieks filling the headset, and he quickly ripped it off, unable to listen. He took one very quick look at Mav's face, before the two of them were tearing out of the room, barrelling down several flights of stairs, and sprinting out to the runway.
"Dodger!" Rooster yelled desperately as soon as his feet touched the asphalt, running to her grounded plane as fast as his legs could carry him. The rain pelted down overhead, lashing at his exposed skin, and soaking his clothes through instantly. "Dodge!" He cried over the wind, his voice swallowed up by the storm.
Crew members were weaving around him like a elegant dance, their steps precise and coordinated in contrast with Roosters own distressed movements. Many of the men carried large foam canisters in their arms, spraying them directly at the busted jet, extinguishing the soft plumes of smoke that billowed out from its rear- the only remaining engine.
Rooster reached the right wing of the plane, leaping up onto the still warm metal, and crawling his way to the canopy. Without wasting a moment, he heaved the glass up, popping the canopy open with precision despite his desperate, shaking hands.
"Dodger!" He cried, almost sobbing with relief when he spotted her conscious in her seat, hands still white-knuckling the control stick- staring dead ahead with wild, unblinking eyes.
"Dodge?" Rooster asked, voice a little quieter this time, though still loud enough to be heard over the noise around them. The girl didn't even stir, almost as though she hadn't heard him at all. He snapped his fingers in front of her face, "kiddo?". nothing.
Then Rooster noticed her breathing; harsh, erratic- chest straining against the straps of her seat as she wheezed out shorts puffs of air from her lungs. She was still clutching onto the stick like it were her lifeline- which essentially, it had been. Rooster's face fell away into a look of anguish, chest aching helplessly.
The girl was in shock.
Bradley, still trying to slow his own heart-rate to a more regular pace, leant into the cockpit, and gently placed his hands on either sides of the girls face, thumbs brushing the skin of her cheeks that peeked out from under her helmet. Cupping her head, Rooster attempted to gently turn it towards himself.
"Judy" he spoke her name carefully, like it was the most delicate word in the English language. Then, the girl blinked, and her eyes slowly turned away from the cockpit window, finding his.
Rooster softened.
"There you are, Judes" he said with a ghost of a smile, name falling from his mouth like a whisper in the wind. The girl continued to stare at him, glazed-eyes clearing over with each slow blink- till a sliver of recognition dashed across her face.
She made to speak, but her voice croaked, sore and overused from screaming for her life- so all that managed to come out was a stuttering, feeble cry of, "Roo-?"
"Yeah, kiddo" he breathed, feeling all the tension in his chest drain out of him at the simple call of his name- or half of it, at-least. He went along with it anyway. "It's me" He said, "S' Roo"
Her glossy eyes filled up with tears, that soon spilled out and bulleted down her face, several droplets catching on his thumbs that continued to brush soothing motions across her cheeks. Her chest still heaved with sharp, shallow breaths, struggling to pull more air in as the remaining tremors of adrenaline rushed through her system. A small sob escaped her, choking her.
"Oh, Judy" her Captain sighed brokenly, face scrunched in agony as he gazed down at the shaken girl. He carefully relieved her of her shoulder straps, before removing her helmet too. He didn't fail to miss the smarting cut on her temple where her cracked helmet had no doubt made impact with the side window- which was currently busted to fuck. Thank god pilots wore helmets- or her injury could've been much worse.
As soon as she was free, the girl was leaping out her seat and falling into him, holding onto the older man with the same iron grip she'd had on the yoke not moments before.
"Shh, kid" Rooster soothed, holding the quaking girl as close as he physically could without crushing her. "You're alright now" he hums into her ear, heart breaking at the pitiful whimpers that follow his words. Nevertheless, he savours them- feels her sobbing body shudder against his chest and silently thanks whatever god had been out there listening to his prayers.
"You made it home" he chokes, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, jotting every last detail of the moment to his subconsciousness.
The girl in his arms begins to speak, words wobbly and barely audible, "I was-" she gasps, whines, sniffs loudly. "I was so scared."
"You and me both" is his low reply, pressing his nose down into her hair, his senses flooding with the soft remnants of her coconut shampoo. She shakes in his grasp, her cries becoming louder, more devastating as the adrenaline wears off and the moment sinks in. "easy, now" he whispers to her, gently pulling her up out the cockpit and onto the wing with him. "I got you"
Carefully, they manoeuvre down the side of the wing and off the aircraft- Rooster first, landing with a soft thud, before turning and helping his student slide down the very slippery surface.
Several maintenance workers join them, checking them both over, before quickly directing them out of the way of the still softly smoking aircraft.
Bradley pulls the shaking girl to his side, his other arm coming up to try and shield her from the onslaught of rain at it bares down unforgivingly it on them both. Another crack of thunder splits the sky above their heads, and Rooster can't ignore the small shaky hand that frantically clutches at the soaked cotton of his shirt.
Heavy footsteps draw near, slapping wetly on the ground. Rooster squints against the harsh downpour, spotting Hound making a beeline for them both, Maverick not too far behind him- and behind him, a large group of medics.
"Is she okay?!" Hound cries over the rain, "She hurt?!-"
"Ty" Judy sobbed, the hand relinquishing its grip on Roosters shirt in favour of reaching out for him. Tyrell instantly grasps it, holding it up to his lips to press a shaky kiss to her knuckles. Rooster watches him release a long breath, eyes shining with his own unshed tears. "Hey, Duck One" he says, voice choked with emotion for his friend.
"Hey, Duck Two" the girl shudders back, teeth chattering soundly in her skull. And then, "Why are you crying?"
Hound manages a laugh, it's weak- but it's there. "Why dya think?" He tucks a long, wet strand of hair away from his squad mates eyes- his family, as their Captain suggested on their first day. How true those words would become in such short few months. "You gave me a scare back there"
"Sorry" Rooster hears her apologise, and opens his mouth to speak- Hound beating him to it with a soft reprimand of,
"Don't be sorry" and then, "I'm just glad you're safe"
"I think I hurt my head" she mumbles dazedly, voice almost lost in the storm. She releases Hounds hand, bringing her own up to her forehead to poke at the cut there. "I'm bleeding"
"It's just a scratch, kiddo" Rooster tries to reassure her, pulling her hand away from the (actually quite deep, and not 'just a scratch') gash, "we'll get someone to patch it up"
She barely hears him, eyes focused on someone drawing in from behind Hound, "Mav!"
"Oh, sweetheart" Mav breathes, rushing in at the call of his name. He begins peppering her hair with kisses and smoothing her fresh tears away, eyes searching over her- ablaze with worry. "are you alright? Are you hurt?"
"M' Bleedin-" she starts, pointing out the obvious, before her captain cuts across her words.
"You're fine, Jude" Rooster soothes, and then turns to Mav. "It probably looks worse than it is"
He only hopes he’s right.
A small crowd begins to usher them off the runway, maintenance crew and a few members of the medical team carefully pushing Judy towards the direction of the infirmary. In the commotion, her hand slips away from the grip on her Captain, and she starts to panic.
"Cap!" She cries, head whipping about the crowd, squinting through the rain to search for him. Voice drowning under the deafening downpour, she calls again, "Roo!"
And then one of the medics grabs at her shoulder, and the girl gasps, before a scratchy cry tears it's way out her throat, and her legs buckle beneath her. Several hands catch her before she can fall, steadying her weight against their own- voices becoming increasingly concerned.
"Ow" she gasps, a red-hot pain searing up her arm and across her entire shoulder blade. "What the fuck-?!" She cries, "Ow-"
"We've got a dislocated shoulder" she hears a male responder say, "we're gonna need a re-set on that right away"
"-I'll tell the nurse to prep a bed" another says.
Her blood seizes at their words, heart kicking up at the mention of a nurse.
"Wait-ow. Wait!" She tries to speak around her painful gasps and whimpers, half-aware that the storm was no longer raging around her as she was ushered inside a warm building and down a narrow hallway- half carried by the sea of concerned staff members.
"Where's cap?" She asks, frantically whipping her head about to find him, only serving to worsen the pain in her arm, "Where's my Captain?"
Another medical responder, a lady this time, pets at her wet hair- and Judy briefly believes the woman’s attempting to comfort her. That is, until latex-gloved fingers prod around the sensitive tissue of her head wound, and she realises that she's simply being checked-over.
Her stomach swoops uncomfortably, and she suddenly misses the way Hound had grasped her hand not moments before, or how Mav had littered her hair with the softest of kisses, or how Rooster had whispered soothing nonsense as he held her incredibly close.
"Your Captain will follow behind- you have to come with us" the same woman explains, and suddenly their charging through the swinging doors of the infirmary, the harsh smell of anti-septic hitting Dodgers nostrils instantly. "Please try and calm down, Miss"
Judy wanted to laugh at the woman- calm down?
Instead, she shook her head fiercely, wet curls whipping her face, "No, I need him" she gasps, breathless switch both fear and pain, "please, I need him here"
She's efficiently loaded onto the nearest bed, arms pushing her to lay back- she weakly resists. "No, wait" she croaks, anxiety leaking through her voice and causing it to crack.
Another nurse swims into view, shining a bright light into her eyes- Judy tries to push it away with her good arm, but there are several hands clamping down on it, holding her still.
"Miss Dawson, I want you to try and relax" the nurse says, as Judy does anything but. "you've suffered a dislocation of the shoulder blade during your landing on the runway- We're going to carefully re-set it on the count of three, alright?"
"No!" Judy cries, another burst of adrenaline pushing through her body, giving her strength to fight back against her retraints. "No, I'm fine!"
"Miss Dawson" the same nurse tries to explain, her tone light, but her words firm. "It has to be set as quickly as possible, or it'll heal incorrectly and then you won't be able to fly"
Her tears are hot and heavy, blurring at the edges of her vision. She wildly shakes her head again.
"No, there's nothing wrong with- no, no- don't touch me!" She screams when another nurse tries to reach for her injured shoulder. She finally wriggles the stronger hand free and blindly lashes out, nails striking anyone that happened to be at arms-length.
"DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME" Her voice is damn near hysterical, pitch rivalling the thunder outside. "CAP- where's.cap" she punctuates, breath coming out in hot, angry puffs. "WHERE IS HE?!"
The same nurse reels back from the attack, adjusts herself, and attempts to console the distressed young pilot with a level "Miss Daw-"
"NO" Judy roars at her, and then a loud, terrified cry of "ROOSTER"
A door swings open, heavy purposeful footsteps squeaking against polished linoleum- then two hands are gripping either side of her face, thumbs smoothing across her cheeks.
There's a voice calling her name, and she clings to it's deep, familiar baritone-
"Jude" They urge, "Judy, calm down"
The familiar face of her Captain swims across her teary vision- and suddenly, Judy feels as though she can breathe again.
Rooster watches, lost, as his student tries sucking in some deep breaths, but her hysterical crying makes it difficult. He tries his best to help, the pads of his thumbs wiping away the ever-flowing train of tears on her face, as well as creating a (hopefully) soothing motion.
Behind him, An impatient looking doctor turns to Mav- who looked equally breathless, having ran after Bradley, who in turn had charged after Judy the moment she was plucked from his arms. The Doctor tuts, and says rather loudly "Sir, if she doesn't calm down soon, we'll have to administer her"
Mav leans a little too far into the mans personal space to issue his strong reply, "You'll do no such thing" his eyes glint dangerously- warningly.
Bradley spares the Doctor a glare of his own, but manages a grateful nod to the nurses when they take a small steps back, allowing him room to calm his frantic student.
"Judy, listen to me" he orders softly, and this time the hand that’s running through her wet hair is doing so in a comforting manner. If the girl were so high-strung, she’d have melted at the mere action. Instead, her eyes widen in panic when he softly says, “your shoulder has to be re-set"
"No!" She cries, and that thing in Rooster chest begins to ache again, "no please!" She continues to beg brokenly, fear electrifying her skin and making it hard to sit still. She tries to squirm away, but Roosters firm grip on her chin holds her in place. Wet eyes stare up at him, hot tears tumbling down her cheeks and catching at his thumbs. "It's gonna hurt" she sobs, "I don't want them to"
Roosters shushing her- a deep, low sound that only she can hear. The hand running through her hair tucks the fallen strands back behind her ear. The Captain moves closer, ducking to catch her lowered gaze.
"It'll only be for a second" he promises her. He glances briefly to the nurse, silently checking that the procedure would in fact be as quick as that. The nurse nods, and he turns his attention back to the girl, continuing with “just one little second and then it's done"
"No, please" the girl begs, and Roosters taken aback by such prominent fear. “Don’t let them do it!” She pleads, voice cracking again. Roosters gaze is sad as he observes her shakily wiping at her eyes with her sleeve, smearing some blood that had leaked down from her temple. She looked smaller here. Far smaller than he’d ever really seen her before. Here, covered in blood, and scared out of her damn wits- she looked just like a kid. Hell, she looked like a baby.
She steals the air from Roosters lungs with another hysterical, "please"
She makes a move to get off the bed, and Rooster grabs her, being careful of her injured arm. “Look at me, Judes" he says, forcing her look at him properly as she wriggles to get away. “I'm right here" he breathes, gripping her chin and furrowing his brows determinedly , “you think I'm gonna let them hurt you?” He hums questioningly, and she gives a small, non-committal sound back. He takes it.
“Three seconds and it's done" he promises, “three seconds"
Her eyes flicker to the nurses, but the grip on her chin squeezes gently, forcing her to focus back on him. Her eyes are big and unsure.
“Trust me" he whispers, “trust me"
A beat. A shuddery breath. And then, a soft “Kay"
“Attagirl” he says, eyes twinkling, a free hand rubbing small circles across his sternum. He shifts, sitting on the edge of the bed, an arm reaching round to pull her to his side.
He wordlessly beckons the nurses back over, who gently grip Dodgers injured arm. Instructions flurry over the top of her head, some directed to her, but she doesn’t pay them much mind- her attention instead, is on the hand softly carding through her hair again.
She breathes once, squeezes her eyes shut, and braces herself;
One
Two
Before they can reach the third number, a nurse pulls hard on her shoulder and Judy feels a blinding white hot pain prickle across her senses. She cries out in both shock and pain, before completely dissolving into tears as the bone uncomfortably pops back into its socket. The relief, however, is instantaneous, and she sags against her Captain like a dead weight.
Mav winces at the loud crack, even more so at the tears that follow. He frowns, heart aching for the girl who sobs quietly into Roosters chest, face smushed against his jacket, no doubt staining it with blood.
He chances a glance at Roosters face, and wishes he hadn’t. Tears are welling up in the man’s own eyes, his features contorted into a look of agony as he holds the hurting girl close. Then, they flicker his way, meeting him across the room- and Mav watches as the tears spill over his sons lashes, rolling heavy down his cheeks.
Notes:
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! please let me know what you think of it! I appreciate every little comment, they make my day.
Chapter 14: Phantom Pains
Summary:
Bradley makes several startling discoveries, whilst Mav proves that he is the best father figure in the world.
Notes:
HELLO! HI. IM NOT DEAD!!
First of all I would like to apologise for not updating this fic in SEVEN MONTHS. Disgusting behaviour on my part and I am so incredibly sorry for that.
Secondly, here’s a new chapter. I hope you enjoy.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Captain ?"
Bradley was startled from his half-lidded stupor, instinctively straightening himself up from his slumped position in the infirmary chair. He blinked tiredly up at the nurse standing before him, who'd slipped through the privacy curtain without his knowledge, and from the sounds of it had been trying to get his attention for a good minute.
Damn he was tired .
The lady in question smiled down at him, lips twitching bashfully. He watched as she glanced between himself and the young girl slumbering in the infirmary cot beside them, her smile curling into something fond at the sight of Judy's limp hand nestled snuggly beneath his larger.
Judy had passed out not long after her injuries had been attended to. The adrenaline from the crash, plus her paralysing fear of doctors had completely zapped at her energy, til her head was nodding and she was practically slumped against Roosters chest, who'd looked just as drained as she.
And for the past few hours whilst she slept, he hadn't. Instead, he'd been dutifully watching over her, despite many nurses and doctors informing him that she would be fine and that he was okay to return home for the night.
He'd quietly thanked them, but had yet to move from her bedside, no matter how uncomfortable the plastic infirmary seat was.
"Sorry" he apologised to the nurse, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to smooth away the pull of sleep.
The nurse just continued to smile, and brandished a folded pile of khaki coloured clothes, which Bradley immediately recognised to be Judy's belongings. "Where should I put her gear, Sir?"
"I'll take it." He says around a yawn, reaching out for the pile, "Thank you, ma'am"
She just nods, quickly checks over Judy's vitals, before silently bidding him farewell and disappearing behind the privacy curtain once more. The steady beeping of a monitor and Judy's soft snores are once again the only sounds to be heard.
Bradley looks down at the suit for a long while, thumbing the collar, fingertips brushing over a dark spot of dried blood, most probably from the girls head-wound. His eyes bore unseeingly into the stained fabric, heartbeat drumming in his ears, matching the sharp pangs he felt just behind his ribcage.
He forces his eyes away, sucks in a sharp breath, and focuses back on his slumbering student. He leans out of his seat, and places the pile at the foot of the bed, so Judy had them when she eventually woke.
He's just about to brush a strand of fallen hair away from Judy's face when movement from the pile catches his attention. Something slips out the front pocket of her uniform, and he fumbles to catch it, his tiredness making him miss completely. The item- a small slip of weathered polaroid film- slides to the floor, landing facedown by one of the bed wheels. He frowns, and leans over, grunting when his back protests- sitting in that chair for hours on end had done his body little service- and fishes the item up from the ground.
He flips the image round, and quite nearly falls back into his seat from shock.
Ten Years Earlier
A younger Bradley Bradshaw leans against the railings on one of the upper decks of the aircraft carrier, taking a small, stolen moment from his usually busy schedule to simply close his eyes and breathe in the salty sea air.
He'd been deployed less than a month now, but it was still taking him a while to get used to the new routine. The people were okay, most of whom were around his age, and relatively easy to get along with. Sleep was still an issue, but that was nothing new. since his fathers passing, then his mothers passing, then leaving home (leaving Mav )- he often didn't feel all that rested.
The tiredness dragged on him now, the warm morning sun hitting his closed eyelids, and the soft sound of the waves hitting against the hull lulled him into a semi-asleep trance. He was so out of it, that he didn't hear the approaching person until they were right next to him.
"Mornin'"
Bradley had to brace every muscle in his body so as not to jump completely out his skin, and blinked his eyes open, whipping his head sideways to squint through the sun at the stranger. He watched as the man- a head shorter than him and looking somewhere around his mid-to-late thirties- leant forward against the railings, he too watching the waves roll in from the horizon, an easy smile forming behind his lightly bearded mouth.
"Nice day for a fly, huh?" he says, and Bradley just nods in agreement, even though the weather hadn't really changed. It had been the same as yesterday, and the day before that.
"Jesus Christ" the guy continues, sucking the salty air loudly through his nose and breathing out just as noisily. Bradley represses an annoyed sigh as his peaceful morning is disrupted. "wouldja look at that" the man says, and Brad blinks. He follows his line of sight, but only the great expanse of ocean greets him in return.
"At what?" he asks back, tone blunt.
"Exactly" the guy says, and he turns to briefly smile at the younger. His teeth shine in the sun, and his eyes crinkle with soft joy, and Bradleys stomach swoops as hes struck with a strange sense of familiarity. His carefreeness reminded him of another aviator he once knew, one he hadn't spoken to in at least ten years now. Bradley felt the bitter pang of homesickness swirl in his gut, but forced the feeling back when the man pointed out beyond the chain railing, gesturing. "its just us and the waves out here, man. Being deployed is some scary shit"
Rooster had to agree, being so far away from land (see: home ) wasn't always a nice feeling. Especially after long periods, you began to feel a little stir crazy.
Seems the man beside him felt much the same, for he said, "Sometimes the only thing keepin' me sane out here is thinkin' bout family back home, y'know?"
Rooster just nods, jaw tight. His stomach clenches again, rolling like an overhead storm and making him feel a little queasy. The word struck a nerve with him, spiking like a hot poker to the asscheek, and burning through him like the sharp sting of tears that were currently trying to accumulate behind his eyes.
Family.
The man notices his stoic silence, and appears bashful, but brushes it off in favour of remaining conversational. Though Bradley wishes he didnt...
"I got a daughter" he says, and if it were possible his smile grows brighter, his despositon softer, "She's seven-uh-no, wait. Eight, sorry" he catches himself, "Cutest lil spitfire you'll ever see" then he laughs, the sound just as soft as his words, and Rooster listens as it rumbles through his chest, "trouble-maker though, had me called into her school a few times for picking fights bigger than her"
Rooster keeps nodding non-commitally, unsure what to say. He wasn't much good with kids in general, and struggled with conversation when parents began talking about their little 'bundles of joy'. He'd held a few babies in his life, but was never exactly sure what to do with them when he was handed one. But the way this man talked about his kid made Bradley pause, see the way the sun twinkled just that little brighter against his eyes, and wonder if his own father ever spoke of him when he was deployed. And then, with another gnawing twist of his insides, he wondered if Mav ever did.
"You got kids?"
Again Rooster's answer is wordless, and a touch insulted. Did he look old enough to be a parent? Damn, being twenty-eight sucked.
He could've sworn he was sixteen not too long ago.
"This is her" the man brandishes a photo to him, and Rooster politely takes it, glancing down at the button-nose brunette.
The guy was right, she was a cute little thing- perched on her fathers hip and waving up at Rooster from the photo. She wears blue dungarees that are coated in grass stains, two mis-matched brown plaits trail down from beneath the oversized baseball cap she'd stolen from her fathers head. The father himself is grinning widely at her- face frozen mid-laugh. And to add to the adorable factor, the kids two front teeth were missing, making her tongue stick out from behind the gummy gaps as she smiled childishly. Rooster managed a small smile of his own as he surveyed the moment caught by the Polaroid, carefully thumbing the white edges so as not to ruin the film. "Cute kid, man" he says truthfully.
"Ain't she just?" The guy agrees, staring down at the polaroid too, "She'll be getting up for school right about now" and then his eyes flit back to the vast nothingness before them, gaze travelling beyond the curvature of the earth, searching for a place far from where they currently both stood. His next whispered words catch in the breeze, but Rooster hears them.
"Mornin', Dodger" He says to the horizon.
' Dodger ?' Rooster thinks to himself, frowning, wondering if it was a nickname or if the man had actually called this cute kid such a god awful name.
His thoughts are cut off by a sharp siren blaring overhead, and a voice hammering over the tannoy, ordering pilots to make their way to upper deck immediately. Rooster jumps to attention, sees his squad in the distance stumbling out a hatch and running for the stairs, and goes to follow. Then, he remembers the Polaroid still pinched between his fingers, and turns, ready to pass the photo back, but the man is gone, lost in a sea of rapidly moving soldiers.
Shit .
He whirls round on the spot to try and find him, but the man is nowhere to be seen.
So he tucks the photo in his breast pocket, a safe space just below his left collarbone - and gives his chest a solid pat to make sure it stayed in place. "It's okay kid" he mutters to himself as he takes the stairs two at a time, rushing to his stationed jet, "I'll make sure you get back to your dad"
_
The task seemed much harder to do up in the air, especially when they were suddenly under enemy fire. Air control had spotted at least three bogeys less than a hundred yards out of American territory, and sent a squadron of six out to ensure they remained in their allotted area, Rooster amongst them. Said bogeys hadn't taken too politely to their warning, and suddenly all jets were caught between a dog fight.
Rooster veered out the way of an incoming missile, hitting his flares as his jet spun wildly. one hand reached up to tap the pocket above his heart, making sure the polaroid hadn't slipped out of place, the other trying to control the bucking yoke. He sent a silent prayer to anyone who'd listen, a plea to the heavens, asking them to help him out of this one.
Another close call had him shooting more flares from his jet, before diving sharply, his eyes constantly clocking the sky, checking every angle he could for the enemy aircraft's.
One swam out from under his blind spot, engines cracking through the air, and Rooster startled as his proximity radar blared in his ears- the high pitched siren syncing with the sharp painful pounding behind his ribcage.
The noise was defeating, and he quickly veered, shaking the enemy off his tail- a move, he thought unconsciously, that would have made Mav incredibly proud.
The loud, anxious shouts and orders of the additional pilots over the comms flooded his senses- weighing down on his brain like the G's he was pulling to steer away from danger.
One voice chimed in over the radio, "Boys!" They yelled, sounding incredibly distressed. "I can't shake this son of a bitch!"
Bradley cranes his neck to scan below his left wing, and spots one of his fellow pilots being tagged by an enemy jet. A small gasp clears his throat when the pilot attempts his flares, only to discover he hadn't any left.
"I'm out! IM OUT!" he cries over their radio, voice familiar despite its sudden change in octave. "oh god! Please, no!" He yells when the enemy jet begins firing their guns towards his aircraft. Rooster watches with bated breath as the other pilot tries desperately to evade them. "Please God, I gotta get home! I gotta see my baby" he says, quieter this time, just audible beneath the humming static of the comms, and Roosters chest clenches painfully in response- the space just beneath the Polaroid in his pocket.
The voice- It was the gentlemen from earlier. The little girls Father.
Rooster clenches his jaw, heart pounding in his ears like a drum. He breathes deep, breath whistling sharply through the gaps in his teeth, and clutches the yoke firmly- before diving.
Down he spiralled, following after the two battling jets, reaching them just as the enemy deploys a guided missile- aiming straight for the other pilot.
Before Rooster can even think about what he's doing, he drives his jet across the space between the two jets, releasing his own flares across the sky, and praying his last-second tactic works.
It does.
His flares break the impact of the missile, sending giant plumes of smoke through the air, distorting the enemy aircraft's view and allowing both US jets to make a solid escape from their radar.
Suddenly, another pilot aims their guns for the discombobulated jet, clipping their wings and successfully shooting the aircraft down.
Rooster watches it spiral towards the sea, breath still stuttering in his chest at the prospect that he had been so close to death. Instead, he had saved not just his own life, but a second.
This much was certain to him, as not moments after he'd successfully touched back down on the hangar and disembarked his jet, was he being accosted into a bone-crushing hug by another pilot.
The same gentleman.
"Thank you, Lieutenant" The man breathed, crushing him closer, and sounding suspiciously close to tears, "I think you just saved my life"
Bradley pats him awkwardly on the back, relieved when the man breaks away, settling for a very hearty handshake. "Thank you" he expresses again, staring him down, as if trying to exude every drop of gratefulness from his body towards him.
"You were out of flares" Bradley replies, scratching the back of his head with his free hand, unsure what to do. "It's no problem"
"It is to me" the man says, voice sounding shaky again, "Because of you, my kid wasnt made an orphan today"
"Right..." Bradley says slowly, his gut stirring again at the prospect that he, an orphan himself, had prevented another kid from having to go through the same experience. This time, he shook the hand in his more eagerly, warmth flooding his chest, the same little nook just below the Polaroid-
"oh-wait-!" He says, quickly dropping the man's hand to fish the flimsy film out of his breast pocket . He briefly checks it over for any impurities, eyes catching on the toothless little brunette smiling up at him, and can't help the one that pushes at his own lips. He brandishes it over to him, "Your-er-photo"
"Hm?" The man blinks down at it for a second, before the twinkle returns to his eyes at the familiar sight of his girl. "Oh-yeah!" He chirps happily, taking it from his careful grasp and staring down at it. "Ah, thank you I didn't realise I'd dropped it" he says with a sniff, thumbing at his eyes and blinking away the sting of tears, at his other thumb brushes across the static smile of his kid.
Rooster gives a short frown, "No, You we're showing it to me, remember?" He explains, before rushing to apologise, "Im sorry I couldn't get it back to you before we were called on deck"
The gentleman peers up at him for a moment, brain whirring away behind his eyes, trying to think past the traumatic event and to the more peaceful moments earlier that morning. He blinks again, and then, "Oh, of course!" He smiles, pockets the picture, and gives it the same sound tap that Rooster had. "Thank you for keeping her safe for me"
"You're welcome, Sir" Rooster replies, before a bashful smile of his own pulls at his lips, "But I think she was the one keeping me safe up there"
The other pilot laughs, a loud, tinkling sound that seems to ease the tension from both their chests. "Yeah" he replies fondly, hand over his pocket, his heart, "She does that"
"Man, what a day" the elder breathes after a short bout of silence, making both he and Rooster chuckle this time, "She's gonna want to hear all about this when I get home"
Rooster smirks, "Just maybe not a story to tell before bedtime, Sir"
The man laughs again, a little louder, and a lot easier, "Agreed"
Another call over the tannoy sounds, a ladies voice muffling through the speakers, and it seems to be a call for the older man and several members of his squadron, because he turns to flash him an apologetic smile, "That's my cue"
He shakes Roosters hand one more time, firm, endlessly thankful. "I’ll see you around...lieutenant-?"
"Bradshaw" He replies, and then for good measures, his callsign, " Rooster "
“Dawson" the man smiles, and then, in the same manner,
"Phantom "
Ten years later
A more mature Rooster stumbles out the infrimary room, breaths coming in short sucession as he barrels down the endless hallway.
He finds an empty meeting room at the bottom of the corridor, and drags himself into the dark. He manages to sit himself down on a lone chair, places his head between his knees and forces himself to simply breathe .
It doesn't seem to work.
He feels himself begin to panic when it seems the air doesn't want to go any further than his lips- and so he hurriedly tries to suck it down into his lungs, hyperventilating.
The Polaroid is still clutched between his fingers, feeling just as it had ten year before, minus the deep crinkles of time.
Except staring down at the grinning little brunette now makes him feel sick to his stomach.
The same girl- a decade apart.
At first he didn't understand why it was here again, why a photo of an old pilot and his daughter had been stowed away in Judy's flight suit pocket.
He had glanced back and forth between the photo and his sleeping mentee for a long moment, before a conversation several weeks prior flooded back to him;
" Who gave you the callsign?"
"...My dad"
Her answer surprises him, "Oh?"
"Yeah- he was a pilot too" she says, fiddling with the strap of her seatbelt and staring out her window.
"Yeah?" He pry's politely, "Navy?"
"Mhm" she hums, "Lt. Henry 'Phantom' Dawson. Soon as you thought you'd seen his aircraft- boom, he was gone"
His thumb brushes across the photo as he breathes heavily in the dark, smoothing down the creases across the little girls face- a little girl he knew very well.
A girl, now lying injured and unconscious in a hospital bed just down the hall.
" Oh god" he gasps between breaths, and thinks of Lieutenant Phantoms face, picturing it clearly even years later from last seeing the man. His heart hammers against his chest at the prospect of how disappointed the man would be if he found out his daughter had almost died today.
The door to the meeting room opens, startling him, and the lights flicker on as a familiar head peeks in to scan the room.
"There you are" Mav says, looking relieved. "I thought you would've been with Judy-"
"She's fine" Brad cuts in, too quickly for his liking, trying to school his anxiety and failing miserably. "she's asleep" he says, trying to stand up from his chair, but his legs betray him by barely moving an inch. "I'll go back before she wakes up. I-I just needed to-"
"Brad?" Maverick says, stopping his verbal diarrhoea, gaze growing concerned when he hears the younger man's ragged breathing. "You alright?"
Roosters eyes flit to his feet, the photo, and then back up to Mav's worried face. He thinks about lying, saying he's fine. But the words don't come.
Finally, he shakes his head.
Mavs voice drops into a soft parental tone instantly, "What's wrong son?"
His words are exactly what causes the damn to break.
In seconds, Rooster knows he's crying- feels the tears slipping out his eyes and rolling hot down his cheeks. He sobs softly around his still shaking breaths, finding the task of breathing far worse now that he'd thrown tears into the mix.
"I can't do this" he gasps, just as Mav reaches him, crouching down in front of him and brushing his hair back to feel his temperature. Typical Mav, thinking instantly about his health. But he wasn't the ill kid he needed to worry about.
"What do you mean?" His father figure coos.
Bradley gaps again, trying to suck in more air, "I can't watch her fly again. Not after that. I don't- I can't-"
"Hey Bradley-kiddo, you need to calm down-"
"She's a baby , Mav" he cries, voice almost shouting, and Mav quickly tries to hush him. He feels the older man grabbing his hands, only now aware of how severely they were shaking. He feels the Polaroid shift between their fingers and tightens his grip on it, unable to part with it.
"She's jus' a kid. And I gotta train her up to be a fuckin' soldier ?!" He says through his tears, the force of his crying causing his voice to wobble, "I was so scared, Mav. I'm never this scared. I thought- 'was this close- she coulda died today"
"I know" Mav says, voice even and grounding, "Bradley, believe me. I know"
"I know you do. I get it now." He says, still muttering a mile a minute, Mav having to strain close to hear him. "I understand why mom didn't want me to fly. Why you were so scared to send me on that uranium mission"
Something harsh spikes across his chest, causing him to hiss in pain, and clutch Mav's hand tighter through his panic.
"Mav-" he blinks up at him, more tears shining across his vision, " Dad ," he repeats, earnest, and Mav's own chest nearly collapses as the name tumbles from his kids lips, a name he hadnt heard him use in a long while. "If I lost her-"
Mav shakes his head, "That's not gonna happen"
"Dad-" Rooster continues, unable to hear his reassuring words amidst his pain, "I can't- I won't watch her die-"
"Shh, kiddo. It's alright" he says, and Rooster feels one hand shift from his grasp to smooth down his hair. His own free hand reaches unconsciously to rub at his aching sternum, and Mav follows it, eyes narrowing.
"Can't lose any of them- the squad- can't lose my-"
"Brad I need you to calm down, son"
The pain in his chest worsens, and Rooster hunches forward, grunting in pain.
" Ow " he hisses.
"What's wrong?" Mav starts, eyes wide, moving to grip the younger man arms. "Bradley?"
"My chest" Brad gasps, "it keeps hurting- ugh! really bad"
"Where?" Mav's questions fire out his mouth quickly, his feet twitching, ready to bolt to the door and call for medical help. "Where does it hurt, Brad?"
"Here" he pats around his left pectoral, around his heart- sending spike of fear through Mav's own chest. "all over" and then another whimper of pain, " ow "
"I think your having a panic attack buddy, you gotta breathe for me"
"No, no Dad. I think it's-" the hyperventilating steals him of his voice, only fuelling Mav's concern, "I had 'em a while- since back in September"
"September?!" Mav cries, "Bradley, what the fu- why didn't you say anythin'?! how often!?"
"Not all the time" Brad tries to calm the man, whilst also attempting to do the same for himself. But the prospect of not being able to breathe doesn't help to settle either of their worries . "jus' sometimes"
"When, bud?" Mav asks urgently, squeezing his arms to get the younger to focus on him, "when exactly "
Brad blinks, wracking his brain for an answer, "Like at penny's bar- the night of the fight"
"What, when you were breaking it up? Did Someone injure you?"
"No" Brad replies, shaking his head, trying to push out of Mav's gripping hold, "No. it was-" he thinks, "When I saw the kid almost get her head caved in-Ow" he pauses, rubbing his chest again, "Or- or the time Hangman brought her to the house that night. She looked so scared, Mav. And I dunno, that got me scared, y'know? And then my chest started actin up" he winces, "like now" his voice begins to choke again, "when I was sittin at the kids bedside, watchin' her sleep an seein all those cuts and bandages and-"
Mavs heart rate begins to slow, as understanding creeps into his furrowed brows, smoothing them out like wrinkles on a shirt. He stops, sits back on his haunches, and dips his head.
Between his own harsh breaths, Bradley hears the older man begin to chuckle.
Brad pauses his rambling, and blinks, "Mav?"
The man just continues to laugh, small little titters, face no longer scrunched up with anxiety, but riddled with fond amusement instead.
"What the fuck, man. this is serious " Rooster huffs, outraged, and still struggling to slow his hammering heart, "I could be dying!"
Mav shakes his head, still laughing, "You're not dying, stupid "
"Then what-?"
"Brad" Mav began, slow and sounding a lot more composed than he had just seconds ago. "Are you familiar with the term " sympathy pains "?"
"Isn't that what pregnant people have?"
"Er...not exactly" the older says, attempting to school his features when his son begins scowling at his amusement smirk. "sympathy pains are psychosomatic reactions-"
"-I don't have my pocket dictionary with me, Mav" Brad grumbles.
"Okay, lemme-" He huffs, wracking his brain for a way to explain himself, "When someone else you care about is sad, or suffering, or I dunno- puts themselves in some kind of danger" he makes a pointed gesture to the door, indicating to the girl down the hall in the infirmary ward. "You can feel things " he explains, "pains that's aren't really there"
"Heart pain, chest pain" he lists, pointedly looking to the hand still rubbing circles across Brads chest, albeit slightly slower now, "it’s all emotional pain- you getting the picture here?"
"But." Brad blinks, hand dropping from his chest. "why am I experiencing this?"
Mav rolls his eyes. This kid . "Because you care, Bradley" he punctuates, "about her "
Rooster shakes his head, "I care about a lot of people, Mav-"
"Not like this" Mav cuts him off, "it's different, trust me. I know "
He sees the muscles in Mav's face tighten, the subtle grind of his jaw- and then the way he absently rubs at a space just above his heart. Brad blanches. How he'd never seen it before, he didn't know. But there it was clear as day. A Phantom pain , or whatever it was he had called them.
This one, for Him .
Clarity rushes in with every new shaky breath, and it all suddenly makes sense.
The persistent pain in his chest, the struggling to breathe, fearing he was dying most days. Whatever it was, it wasn't a medical thing. Heck, turns out it wasn't even a thing . It was a person .
It was Judy .
She'd been there all along, nestling herself in the little space between his ribs and his heart- a space left empty since the passing of his family. A space she seemed to fill perfectly. And he'd been the one trying to tell himself since the beginning- to make him see just how important the girl he'd carried in his pocket all those years ago would eventually be. It had just taken a near-death experience and a bit of explaining from Mav for him to realise it.
"You care about that kid so much, that your mind is unconsciously trying to compensate for her" Mav's absurd explanations now slowly make sense in Rooster brain, connecting dots he thought would never coincide."your body wants to take her pain away, and relieve her of her worries so that you feel something instead"
Brad whistles on a struggling exhale, the sound sailing through the quiet air between them. "Thats...insane"
Mav breathes something akin to a laugh, "the human mind is a pretty powerful thing, Bud"
"Yeah we'll, What good did it do, Mav?" He grumbles, brows furrowing in tell-tale anxiety once again, "I'm fine and she's-"
And then he thinks about it again, the plane skidding down the runway, the static shrieks in his ears, the bloodied cut on her forehead as she stared unseeingly out the cockpit window.
There are hands each side of his shoulders again, pressing him down into this reality.
"Breathe Brad" Mav soothes.
He does, finally. One harsh, rattling breath in, that has him physically shaking- and his composure breaking again. He weeps, sobs tear out of his chapped lips once more.
Hands are pulling him into a soft embrace, a warm chest grounding him, giving him a solid place to land.
"She's here. She with us" his fathers voice reassures, soft against his ear, "you got her home. You kept her safe"
"S'not enough" he mumbles into the mans chest, words muffled by the tear-soaked fabric.
"It never will be" Mav replies, his words heavy and solemn, sounding a lot older and a lot more tired than Bradley had ever heard him. "no one knows what the future holds. But I know you, Brad'. I know how stubborn you are"
There's a kiss against his hairline, fingers tickling the short hairs by his neckline, and Bradley feels all the tension locked up inside him begin to ebb away. "The Bradley Bradshaw I know would do everything in his power to keep that girl safe"
Brad managed a weak sounding chuckle at the praise, and grips his father tighter, breathing in the very same scent that made all his worries drift away as a child. Turns out it still worked all these years later.
“'m' jus copyin' you"
Notes:
ONCE AGAIN SORRY I WENT MISSING. I will try not to repeat that in the future. Until the next update (hopefully not seven months later again)
Chapter 15: The Calm after the Storm
Summary:
Recovery isn’t always linear
Notes:
This is a crappy little chapter but I wanted to post it to show how Judy might deal with the aftermath of the previous chapters.
Basically it was just an excuse to write some angst and hurt/comfort.
Chapter Text
The days following Dodgers release from the med-bay had many around her feeling as though they were treading on eggshells. The eggshell in question being the abnormally quiet young aviator, sporting a pitiful-looking sling on one arm, and looking about as miserable as a kicked puppy when she thought no one was watching.
Unfortunately for her, Rooster was always watching.
And though she could still attend her classes, on medical grounds Judy had been prohibited from any strenuous activity of the sort until her shoulder healed up (which the nurse said could take up to weeks).
Which meant flying was out for the count. But in a strange, almost concerning sort of way, Judy found herself feeling relieved that she wasn't expected back in an aircraft yet.
In fact, during regular lessons, the girl found herself picking a desk furthest away from the window, so she didn't have to look at the jets outside, taking off and touching down in speeds that made her heart jump nervously.
Her focus had left her too, surprising her. Gone was the eagerly raised hand, the curious questions, or the furious scribbling of her pen on paper. As much as she tried to keep up with the curriculum, a lot of the time Judy found herself falling behind in her notes, whilst Bradley zipped through the presentations at a speed too fast for her foggy mind to catch up with.
The boys had noticed, and though they didn't let on, Judy knew. Hound had taken it upon himself to sit next to her during most training classes, a comedic sight indeed. Hound, much like his name, was a hulking figure next to Judy, but the way he would delicately slide his notes over to her and give her a smallest of smiles as he did so, made him appear less like a Hound and somewhat closer to a golden retriever.
She'd smile back, take the notes, trying to read through them- but not quite seeing the words on the page, nor hearing the voice of her captain droning on from the front of the class. No, all she could hear was the wheezing of engines, the blaring of cockpit alarms, the rain pelting along the window panes, and her own echoing screams in her head.
"Dodge?"
The girl blinked, clearing away the brain fog and pulling herself back to the present. "Hm?"
The squad (minus their Captain) are sat at a round cafeteria table. It's winding into the evening now. A few hours had passed since their final lesson of the day, but to Judy it had felt like no time at all.
Shot glasses lined up in a circle on the table, with varying alcoholic concoctions inside them-None looking too appealing.
It was Checkers who had called her, the designated drink pourer of the evening.
"You're up. Say it, or sink it" he explains when she casts a curious look, sliding a shot glass infront of her (bright red, and looking somewhat medicinal), "Y'ready? Okay- worst person you ever met?"
Dodger, despite herself, feels a coy smirk flicker at her lips, the first real smile in days, and the boys try not to let their satisfaction show too much. "Besides you guys? Hm-"
The boys feign insult, but they're secretly vibrating at the notion of the girl cracking jokes. "That hurts, Jude" Tyrell says, knocking back a shot despite it not being his turn.
Judy rolls her eyes, fingertips lazily toying with the shot glass sitting in front of her, before answering truthfully. "My Dads Ex-wife"
There were several 'ooh's around the table, "a wicked step-mother" Checkers says, stopping to pour a few more shot glasses for the next victims.
"Damn, the worst? For real? What's she like?" Twix also tips in, curious.
"Face like a horse, and the personality of an Ass" the girl says, picking up the fruity shot and throwing it back anyway, the taste of Gatorade hitting her tongue and something fond hitting her chest. These boys.
Said boys laughed- the loud, joyous noise filling the empty base cafeteria, which had been conveniently left open for the aviators. (Turns out Hound had a special talent of wooing the lunch ladies into letting them stay after curfew on Fridays)
"Why didn't we just go to a bar?" The girl had asked Hound, when the two were collecting snacks left by the old ladies in the back kitchen. The boys could be heard in the main area pulling tables together to make room.
Hound had paused, arms full of potato chip bags, and had given her a weird look, "'Cause you can't drink yet. Duh"
Dodger had stopped too, several chocolate bars falling out her arms at the shock. "Oh" she whispered, as a warmth blossomed behind her ribcage.
"Yeah" Hound said, before smirking, "but we also didn’t wanna walk anywhere in the rain"
As if to prove Hounds earlier point, the downpour outside the closest window to their table grew heavier, pattering along the glass. The boys payed it little mind as they moved onto Twix's confession, Checkers sliding a clear liquid over to him with an evil chuckle. Vodka.
"-Last time you shit your pants?"
"Are you fucking kidding me, Checks?"
Dodger however, couldn't peel her eyes from the window. The clouds rolling in looked dark, almost midnight black- and very stormy. Very similar to the sky several nights ago, when she’d been flying through it.
The air in her throat seized at the sight.
She whipped her gaze back to the group when an uproar of laughter made her jump. Turns out Twix had soiled his pants merely a few weeks ago.
"For that- you get a double shot" Guild murmured, deep voice carrying even over the laughter.
"That's not how the game works-!"
Three of the boys start banging their fists on the table, chanting 'shot, shot, shot' , whilst Checkers began to sing a drinking song he’d learnt from an old English buddy in highschool 'We like to drink with Twix, 'cause Twix is our mate. And when we drink with Twix, he gets it down in eight-"
They begin counting down the seconds, egging the youngest gent into shot-submission. But the numbers fall away from Dodgers ears, as a low rumbling overhead settles in over the noise.
The first strike of lightning drove right through the building, the following thunder shaking the floor beneath their shoes, and causing the lights above to flicker slightly. The Cafeteria, though more sturdy than the likes of hangers, was an extension of the original brick building of the main base- meaning thinner walls and ceilings, and making for a lot louder a sound when storms hit.
Another clap sounded, and Dodger violently flinched. She was under the table before the third, and clinging to the middle table leg seconds after the fourth.
It was during the the fifth strike that she began hysterically crying.
Bradley had been winding down for the evening, watching crappy Television with Amelia, when his phone rang.
He checked the caller ID, and groaned- ignoring the glare Amelia threw his way when his obnoxious ringtone interrupted the show.
He shot a look back at her, before answering the call, "What do you want, Hound?"
The younger man on the other end of the phone sounded frazzled, and just a touch drunk. "Sir, you need to get to base as quick as you can"
Rooster balked at the request, glancing outside the window and watching the rain pelt against the glass. He scoffed, "what makes you think I'm going out in this stor-?"
"It's Dodger" Hound says, voice clipped.
Roosters already shuffling his boots onto his feet before the call finishes.
"And then she just went quiet" Checkers explains when their Captain arrives, storming into the Cafeteria, rain dripping from his hair and seeping into his clothes. He'd come to a stop by their table, each of his students stood around it, though keeping measurable distance. He'd frowned at this, before noticing they were one member short.
"Where's Dodge?" He asks, and watches as five sets of hands simultaneously point to beneath the large cafeteria table. He glances under. There, clinging to the middle leg with her good arm and shaking like a leaf, sat their youngest squadmate.
He listens quietly, crouched down to get a good look at the girl (whose barely aware of his presence) as Checkers explained the situation to him, "Hound tried to get her to come out from under there, grabbed her by the shoulder-"
"-gently, sir" Hound stressed, noticing the subtle clench in his captains jaw and the way his eyes briefly flickered over to him.
"-but she closed off even more than before" Checkers continued "started freakin out- mumbling, and um, crying"
"We've been trying to talk to her from here" Twix's chimes with a soft, tired sigh.
"Have you managed to get anything out of her?" Rooster asks after a long stretch of silence, watching the girl as she stared unseeingly ahead of herself, moving only when a rumble of thunder would sound from above.
"No sir," Guild says, "not much. except, um-"
"Except what, soldier?" Rooster pushes, eyes never leaving their youngest squad member.
Guild coughs, "We'll- uh- you, Sir"
Roosters gaze flickers up to the boys', who all watch him, lips thin and quieter than he'd ever known them to be. Then, they all look back at the girl, who's began crying again, little noises of unease slipping out from her tightly shut mouth.
"We think she may have wanted to see you, Sir," Hound mumbles softly, "That's all she's said, but... that's why we called"
Rooster nods, giving Hound a thankful look, before beckoning the squad to move back slightly, giving him room.
"Dodger" he calls, shuffling closer in his still crouched position, waddling like a duck, "look alive, soldier". He shifted on his haunches, grunting in pain when his ankles twinged uncomfortably. Damn, was he getting old? "Cmon, kiddo- let's get you out from under there"
He reached a hand out to her, closing it delicately around her good wrist, before reeling back when she flinched so violently that she knocked her bandaged arm against the table leg. Her face scrunched in pain, and she gave a little, startled cry.
"No!" She gasped, scrabbling for a tighter hold on the table leg, using both arms despite the pain it caused her to move her injured one. The thunder grew louder overhead, "Nononono!"
"Woah, Easy" Rooster hushed, holding his hands out placatingly, "Easy, now-hey, don't hurt yourself"
"Rooster" she mumbled, screwing her eyes shut over the pain and the fear. "I want Roo- please" she begged, completely unaware that it was her Captain who was talking to her.
He feels Hound creep behind him, his heavy booted feet tiptoeing with worry, and holds up a hand to keep him where he is.
"Judy" he breathes, just audible over the rain, “I'm right here" and “look at me, kiddo"
But another flash of lighting outside caught the girls attention, and she had little eye for anything but the storm. She mumbles his name again, just lightly, but he hears it.
"Cmon, Jude" he tries again. “I’m here”
Finally, her gaze shifts, and two wide eyes land on him, peeking up through long, slightly frazzled strands of chestnut brown hair.
“Roo” she acknowledges softly.
"That's it, kiddo" he praises, feeling a smile twitch at his moustache, “s'alright- storm got you a bit frazzled, hm?"
She gives a soft noise, almost like a whine, and the good hand comes up to hide her face in shame, "Sorry"
"Hey, it's okay" he reassures her, the words coming so naturally now that he wonders how he ever felt uncomfortable months before. It was easy. She was easy. “I get it, kid. I do- Heck, I still get freaked out by snowfall sometimes" he shudders at the memory, can almost feel how the cold snow seeped into his flight suit even now. “bet Mav's told you all about our lil' mission, huh?"
She blinks, eyes clearing up now, as though she were slowly coming back to herself.
"Or maybe you read about it? I know you love your aviation history" he says as an afterthought, and she makes a slight movement with her head in acknowledgment, letting Rooster know she was listening. He huffs a laugh, "yeah, you're a goofy lil nerd, aren't you?"
There's a flash of lightning outside, illuminating their faces, and Judy lets loose another cry of fright, huddling into the table leg again.
When the noise settles, and her crying quietens- Rooster tries again.
He’d do this all night if it took just that.
"You’re not there, kid" he says, creeping closer again, his head under the table now too. “You’re not in the air anymore. You’re here, with me" slowly, he reaches for her good hand, pulling it from its white-knuckle perch on the table-leg and placing it firmly on the cafeteria floor.
“Feel that beneath your fingers? That's ground, kiddo" he soothes, “solid ground. You're safer than ever" he takes a beat to swallow the lump around his throat that catches him off-guard when a new beam of lightning illuminates the tear tracks on his squad-kids face. “Trust me"
Gently, he tugs her closer to him, and she relinquishes her poor hold on the table- the bad arm taking another hit at the action, making both of them wince.
They emerge out from under the makeshift shelter as another clap of thunder hits, and Judy pulls to go back to safety. Rooster, however, doesn’t allow it. “Oh no you don’t” he mutters when she blindly resists.
He pulls her towards him instead, wrapping her up tight, and she panics some, just for a moment, before sagging in his embrace when she realises that this, this feels much safer.
"Roo" she mumbles his name again- like an apology, or a thank you, or simply a prayer all rolled up in one little word.
"I gotcha" he says, his hand stroking over her head, the movement strong and soothing, miles away from the hand that had so cautiously done the same merely a few months ago.
His moustache tickles the side of her ear as he stoops to whisper, “let's go home, huh?"
And she nods, knowing exactly where his version of ‘home’ was.
Because, secretly; it was her version too
Chapter 16: Old Family, New Family
Summary:
Dodger struggles to get back in her jet after the accident, Mav provides some comforting advice, Bradley worries, and more of Judy’s past is revealed.
Chapter Text
What's the matter, kiddo?"
Is how Mav greets Judy as she ambles slowly into the office, her head low and her cheeks blushed despondently.
Hangman, the only other Captain present at his desk, looks up, brows furrowing in concern when he spots the worry working it's way across the girls face. He flashes a rare smile, whilst Maverick waves the girl over to him with all the tenderness of a man used to providing pep-talks for wayward pilots. Despite never having biological children of his own, the guy was destined for fatherhood. Even when he didn't go looking for it, somehow it always found him.
Like now.
"Dispatcher, I got visual on one sad little duckie" Hangman quietly mutters as he follows the girl with his eyes, pretended to speak into a walkie-talkie, even making the static noises with his mouth for the effect. "We're looking for a Caucasian female; Five foot, long brown hair, built like a matchstick-"
"Take a hike, officer Ken" Judy mumbles, but there's no real bite to her words.
Another static noise, "Suspect is rude, proceed with caution"
Mav shoots Hangman a look, before tapping the side of his desk, and watches as the girl hops up onto her designated perch with a little less enthusiasm than usual.
"Why so sad, Jude?" He asks after a short silence, rubbing her knee tenderly and titling his head to get a look at her frowning face.
"I couldn't do it" she mutters, tears misting her eyes.
Mav frowns, glances to hangman, who looks just as confused, before pushing, "do what?"
She's quiet. Too quiet, and it drags on for so long that Mav worries he might've missed her reply. But then, she speaks;
"I couldn't get in the plane"
Oh. He thinks. Something sad and very familiar twisting in his chest.
"Oh, Judy" he mumbles softly, his hand moving from her knee to run softly down her back. "Honey, that's okay"
She scoffs. "No, it's not" she says, bitterly, clenching her fists so hard her nails were leaving crescent-shaped dents in her palms. "Its so stupid"
Mav frowns, hand still rubbing reassuring circles along her spine, and says sternly, "it's not stupid, Judy. This is a normal response to...what you went through" He opted out of using the word 'trauma', even though that's exactly what it was. He figured the girl wouldn't appreciate him using such heavy words to describe the ordeal she'd gone through a few weeks prior.
I'm her mind 'trauma' equated to 'weakness', and he'd be damned if he ever caught her thinking such things about herself.
"I was at the ladder!" She stresses, pinching the bridge of her nose and staring hard at the floor. "Literally about to climb into my jet and I just- I froze, Mav" she rubs a hand against her chest, right along her collarbone, and Mav follows the movement with worried eyes. Stress. Agitation. Anxiety.
The kid was riddled with it.
"Judy, These things take time- no, hey" he cuts in when she heaves a sigh and moves to get up out of her seat. The hand moves back to her knee, holding her back. "Listen to me" he orders, his voice strong- but not angry. Never angry. Just stern enough to gain the young pilots full and undivided attention. Which it does. That, and the added finger pointing in her face when her wide eyes turn to meet his.
"I understand exactly how you're feeling" he says, watching the glimmer of disbelief pass between the crinkles in her forehead, hopping from one furrowed brow to the next. Unconvinced, but curious.
Hangman takes that moment as his cue to get up, mumbling an excuse about a printer down the hall. Neither listen. And so he slips out the room like a ghost.
Maverick sighs in the back of his throat, and spins his chair so he can face her properly. He begins;
"When I was a little older than you, I crashed my jet." He licks his lips at the memory, his throat suddenly dry. "I lost my backseater- my best friend"
Judy works her jaw nervously, eyes big, and incredibly sad. "Roo's Dad" she whispers, her small statement stealing the air from Mavericks lungs.
"Yeah" he breathes quietly, forcing the word out, and clearing his throat when it clogs. "It-um-" he pauses, looking for words that he still to this day struggled to find. Dammit Goose, he thinks as his vision turns misty, missing you never gets easier.
Judy's watching him like a hawk, attention so rapt that he falters. He searches for the right words to explain how even the strongest, most daring, most carefree version of himself had completely fell apart after his jet burned in for the first time. He breathes through the memory, and tries again;
"After- that" he stresses the word, hoping she'd understand. She does, because she nods, and her hand comes to rest atop his own. Comforting. Grounding. And he's grateful for the gesture. "I didn't feel comfortable in my jet for a long time after. I could barely stomach the thought of going up in the air without him. Mostly because I knew he didn't have my back anymore...I didn't feel safe"
Judy's voice is so soft, that he strains to hear her, "What did you do to get over it?"
"Over it?" He asks, then shrugs. "Nothing"
Her shoulders sag at the blunt declaration, her own eyes turning misty. Her lip wobbles with the threat to cry. The hand on her knee squeezes, reassurance ebbing into her bones.
"But how I got through it?" He continues, "I gave myself time to heal. I set myself goals: small steps first, till eventually the bigger hurdles felt a lot smaller"
The girl is quiet for a long while. She stares down at the floor, deep in thought, chewing the bottom of her lip til it threatens to bleed. Eventually she asks, "What was the first step?"
Maverick smiles.
"Have you seen the kid?"
Is how Bradley greets Mav as he pokes his head into the office a little later on, looking out of breath and very frazzled.
Mav looks up from his files, a ghost of a smirk on his face, "That Disney film starring Bruce Willis? Sure- it's a classic"
Bradley spares him an unimpressed look. Hangman, however, flashes an amused grin from his desk and mutters a quiet, 'good one, Mav'.
Bradley stresses, "The kid. The kid, my- ugh, can you just tell me if you've seen Judy in the last half-hour?"
"She was here about twenty minutes ago" Mav says, still flipping through his work.
"Well, Where'd she go?!" Bradley asks, "She took off during flight training and didn't say anything! I've checked every hangar on the base. Twice. I can't find her"
Mav notices the twisting of his eyebrows, the set of his jaw. His son is angry, sure, but the man knows it's just a facade for a deeper emotion he isn't quite ready to feel yet. Worry.
And when that sets in, everyone will know about it. So, he decides to ease his kids mind by supplying him with a passing, "I set her some homework"
"Homework?" Brad repeats, looking incredulous. "Wha- why? for what?" He shakes his head, "Where'd you send her, Mav?"
Mav pretends to check his watch, "well. If I'm correct. By now she'll be back where you first started looking for her"
She was, in fact, where Rooster had first checked.
Hangar four. Used now as a parking spot for a bunch of old classic jets in need of some dire TLC. A museum of aviation history. He spotted her fairly quickly. A little messy brunette head peeking out of a side window of a Luscombe 8a that had seen better days.
"Hey" he says when he pops the side door open, watching the girl jump out her skin, before looking incredibly guilty. "What are you doing in here?"
She's quiet for a moment, unsure whether he was going to drag her out the aircraft and march her all the way to Hondo, so he could dish out push-ups for ditching class. She realised he isn't going to do that when he clambers up into the cockpit, shimmying into the seat beside her, and looking expectantly at her.
"Maverick set me some homework" she explains softly, hand brushing over the switches. Idle, yet repetitive. He watches the pattern, sees her skim every appropriate button to start the engine up. Of course, the aircraft would never fly in this condition. It was just play-pretend on her part. "He told me to pick a plane and sit in it until the weird feeling in my chest went away"
Something in Rooster’s own chest squeezed at her confession, and he mentally kicks himself for ever thinking rushing her back out to the field so quickly was a good idea. He knew she wasn’t ready to get back in a jet yet, saw the signs, but still when she’d gave him a lopsided smile and a short ‘I’m fine!’, he’d had no choice but to take her word for it.
Now, he wish he hadn’t.
"Why'd you pick this one?" He says, filling the silence, looking around at all the other jets in the hangar.
"It's the same plane" she says.
He makes a small, questioning noise in the back of his throat, prompting her to explain.
"Well, it's not the exact same one, obviously. but it's the same model" she tries again, but he's still unfortunately very lost.
He says as much,
"And just so I'm on the same page, what model are we talking about here?"
"My dads" she smiles. It’s soft, sad- it makes Bradley’s stomach churn. “He had one like this. We use to go up in it all the time when I was younger…he taught me to fly in one of these"
She looks around the cockpit, drinking it all in, and relaxes back into her seat. In fact, it’s probably the most at ease he’s seen her since the accident. And why wouldn’t she be? From the sounds of it, this plane was as good as a second home.
"The planes gone now" she says after a while, fidgeting with her hands in her lap, suddenly very sullen. “My step-mother got rid of it when he got diagnosed- said it was too dangerous for him to fly anymore. But I just think she wanted the money"
Step-mother?. Diagnosed?
He must've said the last thought outloud, because she's nodding her head, tight-lipped, staring ahead at nothing.
She hums. “My dad-erm...He had early onset Alzheimer's"
Rooster felt like he'd been stabbed in the gut. A sharp, dulling pain spiking through his stomach at her words- whilst his heart drummed painfully against his chest.
"It eventually took his life" she said. "I'd just turned sixteen"
She whispers the last part, voice quiet and eyes glazed over, staring unseeingly through the plane window and out into the hangar. Rooster could only watch her, eyes sad and face pinched into a gentle frown.
"You'd think that was the worst part- The day he died. But it wasn't"
She gulps audibly, throat dry with the overwhelming urge to cry.
"You hear about Alzheimer's and you think it's a gradual thing. Like a step by step process right?"
He nods, slow and subtle, watching her- practically drinking in her emotions and plastering them on his own face. Tears are dancing in his own eyes now, quivering on the waterline, ready to spill down his cheeks.
She shakes her head, huffing out a small, humourless laugh, "It's not"
Her hands fiddle with the controls again, ghosting over them, working like muscle memory.
"I came home from school one day and he just-" her voice wavers, and her lips quiver. She clenches her teeth and tries to breathe through them, the air whistling past them. Rooster waits patiently for her, watching as she fights a losing battle, trying to compose herself enough to finish her story. "He- um-" she chokes, sniffling audibly, "He just looked right through me"
That's when she broke, when they both did. Silent tears are steadily flowing down both their faces now- hurt mirroring hurt in a devastating, yet, somewhat beautiful display of human connection.
"-Right through me" she repeated, drilling the words into the air around them, and swallows past the lump in her throat. "he thought-" she closes her eyes, screwing them tightly shut- her face scrunching up too, as if it physically pained her to talk. Tears still continued to slip out of her closed lashes, dribbling down her face. "He thought I was a nurse on home-visit-"
Her voice breaks off into a long, painful sounding whine at the last word, almost as if her suffering was being drawn out of her like a string. She sobs once; a wet, gurgling sound- gasping for the breath shes been struggling to catch.
"Oh, Dodge" Rooster whispers before he can help himself. she sniffles again, and turns to him, looking up at him through red, puffy eyes.
"Do you know what that's like?" She asks him brokenly. "To look at some who's your whole world"
There's that twinge in his heart again, that ache. It's almost unbearable. He doesn't force it away, he feels it. He knows what it is now.
Another sob, small and soft. Holding back the flood. "and they just stare right back at you like you're a stranger?"
Rooster feels like he's grieving his father and mother all over again. Grieving a man he barely knows. The reality of it is far less simple; Instead, he's grieving for Judy. For smart, kind, funny Judy- The girl he'd taught all he knew about flying, had protected so fiercely, and (obvious to everyone but himself) had slowly come to love like family. And that alone was why it hurt so badly- because this kind of pain was beyond his fixing. He was helpless to it.
"It sucks" she wails, and now her cries are loud and horrifically heart-wrecking, filling the quiet of the plane. "It really sucks, Roo"
In a split second, he's reaching out to her with both hands, pulling her over to him. She folds into his embrace, her cries immediately muffled by his jacket, of which she grips onto like a lifeline. His own arms are circled around her with the same severity- strong and taut, holding her together like glue. His nose is tucked into her hairline, moustache twitching against the crown of her head as he whispers soothingly to her. He doesn't quite know what he's saying, but he only hopes that it helps.
Tears are running hot down his own face, collecting at his chin, dripping onto the soft skin of Judy's forehead. The girl trembles in his arms, and he clutches her closer, trying to ebb the shivers and sobs wracking her frame. He feels her breath on his neck- shallow, uneven puffs of air as she desperately tries to control her breathing amongst her caterwauling cries.
"Shh" he soothes, brain running on instinct. A hand runs over her back, soft, sweeping patterns that entice her to shove herself further into Bradleys embrace. "Shh, Jude" he murmurs, baritone voice vibrating softly in the air around her, "it's okay"
"No, it's not" She gasps, whimpers pitifully, and chokes out "I miss him".
"I know" He whispers back, his own voice trembling. "I know" he repeats earnestly, Because he does know. More than most. He misses his parents every day, thinks of them all the time, and still gets upset over their passing at every approaching anniversary. But over the years he's come to realise that he still has people in his corner, people that fill the gaps and mend the holes in his heart where another had been missing. Bradley still had his friends, his squadron, Maverick.
A new thought races through his mind, unbidden, making him feel sick to his stomach; Who does she have?
Another gut-wrenching sob from Judy startles him from his thoughts, and he feels her trembling fingers clutch at his jacket, holding on to the fabric as though she were afraid he'd disappear too. He presses a quick kiss to her hair in hopes to mollify her heartbreak, and holds her impossibly tighter. "I'm here" he whispers to her, his words trying to keep her whole whilst she fell apart at the seams, "I've got you, sweetheart"
Me, he concludes.
She has me.
Chapter 17: The Unexpected Visitor
Summary:
An unexpected visitor drops into Roosters life, and tries to severe his newly formed bond with Dodger.
Notes:
Long over-due chapter! The story continues…
Chapter Text
"Alright guys, get to work!" Rooster barked, clapping his hands, several people wincing as the sound echoed around the hangar and up into the rafters, "You wanna start fights in the canteen and act like children? Then you get treated like children"
A series of groans issue down the short line of soldiers. Twelve, at least. They stood with their backs straight, eyes ahead, and arms full of buckets, sponges and other miscellaneous cleaning supplies. Several aircraft's sit stationary behind them, dusted with a copious layer of San Diego dirt.
Beside Rooster, Hangman flicks his sunglasses down over his eyes, looking unimpressed, but favouring to glare extra hard at one particular half of the line- his unruly students. The other half were Roosters, and thus his to look disapprovingly at. The two aviators share a look between surveying their line of students, sighing in the back of their throats. It seemed, that even though the two men had long put aside their rivalry and become something more of friends (perhaps family, if they weren't too stubborn to say it), both their squads refused to follow in their footsteps.
Hence, todays scheduled fight.
Neither gentlemen were at all impressed with being called from their office during lunch to break apart yet another scuffle between their students. Therefore, punishments had to be dished out accordingly. (And with great internal enjoyment).
"Sir" a young aviator, one of hangman's men, spoke up, "I owned up for throwing the first punch. And we all said we were sorry-"
"Whaddaya want? A badge of honour?" Hangman scoffs, "you guys screwed the pooch, big time. Ergo: clean up duty" he spies Rooster hiding a grin out the corner of his eye. He found the man's choice of instructing highly amusing on most days. "Now, move it"
Hangman's men hop to the command quickest, Rooster’s squad following just a few seconds behind, encouraged only by the sharp look their instructor threw them. Hangman's boys decided to one-man their tasks, each taking a soapy sponge to either the left or right side of their chosen jet. Roosters squad, however, decided to tag-team it- splitting into pairs with one aviator sponging the jet, whilst the other followed after with the hose. Hangman and Rooster worked like the hands of a clock, sweeping round the hangar, and surveying their students with disapproving stares.
It was going well, until someone from Hangman's squad was 'accidentally' sprayed with the hose, and then another round of arguing broke out. As well as some heavy shoving....And several more splashes with the hose.
“Hey, that's enough!" Rooster barked over the noise, "Checkers-! Drop the hose-! For the love of- Dodge, Dodger! swap with him and give him soap duty- yes, now. I don't care if you haven't finished the window, just swap! Jesus chr-"
”Jeez” Dodger mutters a little too loudly as hangman slowly circles by her, wordlessly passing her the large hose he’d just ripped out of Checkers hands. “Who the hell pissed in his coffee this morning?”
Hangman holds a finger to his lips to shush her, but there’s no mistaking the soft curl of a smirk behind his hand.
Rooster visibly prickles from across the hangar, “I heard that, young lady-“
His next sentence is interrupted by the distant, frantic shouting of "ma'am please- you don't have authorisation to be here- ma'am!"
It stops Rooster in his tracks, and he orders his students to continue cleaning, before quickly circling round a sudsy looking jet and following the sound.
A stone-faced Woman comes marching towards the hangar doors, followed quickly by a young Naval officer, who looked very frightened and was talking hurriedly into his pocket radio. Rooster heard the words, "security breach" and "inform admiral cyclone", before he rounded to a stop at the front doors of the hangar.
The woman in question, a tall, robust lady with a tower of hair that could rival Dolly Parton, spotted Rooster and immediately beelined for him. In the far distance, Rooster could see Maverick and Cyclone running toward them on the long stretch of tarmac that divided the hangar from the main building. Roosters face is a picture of confusion, 'What in the world-?'
"I'm looking for Judy Dawson. They said she'd be here" the woman says, hardly looking him in the eye, far too busy scouring the hangar over a pair of winged sunglasses. She talks with the same snooty air of indifference in her voice that instantly puts Rooster off people. Whoever this woman is, he decides he does not like her.
“What do you want with Dodger?" He asks, brows quirking and arms folding.
"Dodger?" The woman snorts derisively at the name, finally deeming him important enough for a passing glance, "Is that what she's been calling herself?"
Roosters nostrils flare, "Who're you?"
“Ruth Dawson. I'm Judy's step mother" she replies, and then, incredibly impatient, "where is she?"
Maverick skids to a stop beside them now, shoes squeaking, and only slightly out of breath for a man of his age. Behind him, cyclone isn’t faring any better, hands on his knees and huffing a lot louder.
"Ma'am" Maverick begins, a placating hand raised, "you haven't authorisation to be in this area, how about we take this discussion-"
"Step mother?" Rooster blinks, inadvertently cutting Mav off, removing his shades and sliding them up onto his forehead. "You're Judy's family?"
"She didn't tell you about me?" The woman tuts, her red rouge lips scrunching unappealingly, “That’s surprising. I would’ve thought she’d have spun a tale about me by now- she likes a good sob story, that kid”
“Judy isn’t like that” Mav defends evenly.
The woman huffs a small laugh, “Clearly, you don’t know her very well”
Meanwhile, something in Rooster tilts, the air in the room hollowing out, and making him feel wildly off-kilter. Like a slap to the face, the new information sinks in, squeezes through the small gaps in his heart, that had only recently been filled with places and people that the life of a pilot had made for him, and starts chipping away at the edges. Sometimes living on an airbase made you forget about a lot of things. The bigger picture, or the more trivial things that belonged outside of aviation. It could make you forget that when you take the time and energy to build up a world of your own, there's one that already existed before you got there. And sometimes, when a new person comes along and forces you to inadvertently make yourself important in their world, you forget the most significant thing;
That maybe, that person already had someone important.
"Ma'am" Maverick begins again, less patient, but he's swiftly cut off. This time by Cyclone, who's glaring a storm behind him.
“-You are breaching US Naval property, Mrs Dawson" he hisses lowly, inviting others (minus Mrs Dawson, who refused to do anything asked of her) to do the same, as to not bring the attention to their aviators, who were still being observed by an equally confused looking Hangman, several yards away."This is prohibited by law, and consequences of-"
"-I'm not leaving until I meet with her and her Captain-"
"Sir, lets tackle this in a calmer manner-" Maverick again.
“Step-mother-?" Rooster repeats to himself, wracking his head.
"I have the right to see my step-daughter-"
"You also have the right to obey state laws-"
"This is a personal, family matter, and I will not leave until-"
"Dodger talked about her father, sure, but she never mentioned-“
"Ma'am, if you just head back to the main centre and we can collect Judy without causing-"
"Mav, did you know she had other extended family-?" Rooster again, his tone a little more accusatory this time.
And then, Ruth is turning on him, a long, red painted fingernail jabbing into his sternum.
"Are you her Captain? Are you the one who came to her school and filled her little head with nonsense about being a pilot? I mean, really! Of all the shit to brainwash a young girl into-"
"Christ alive, would somebody please fetch Judy Dawson so we can put an end to this now?!" Cyclone barks, and the commotion comes to a sharp stop.
Everyone falls quiet, though Ruth looks ready to tear off several heads. And then, like a prayer-
"Captain?" A familiar voice calls from behind Rooster.
The wet, squeaky slap of footsteps approach, and all adults turn to spy Dodger heading toward them, head down, face scrunched as she fiddled with the spout of a thick, grey hose. It trips several people behind her as she tugs it along, but the girl remains unaware.
"Excellent timing, Miss Dawson" Cyclone mutters under his breath appreciatively.
"Hey, Cap'" the girl says, dropping formalities, "the nozzle on this hose is acting up, how do you-"
And then, she glances up, and freezes- spotting the small party. More pointedly, she spots Ruth, recognising the woman instantly.
Judy takes one fearful look at her, and one equally terrified look at her Captain- before she's dropping the hose, turning on her heel, and bolting.
“Dodge!" He shouts after her, making a move to follow, but a closed hand wrapped tightly around his wrist stops him. He turns back to Ruth, who’s holding onto him with a grip so firm her nails were bound to leave crescent shaped craters in his skin. He glares down at her.
"Where are you going, Im still talking with you!" The woman hisses, "are you, or are you not, her Captain? Because I have a few things to say, mister-!"
By now, Dodger has disappeared through the back doors of the hangar, a small corridor leading to the storage and locker room area. Her squad-mates watch her leave with alarm, several pause to call after her.
"Get your hands off me" Rooster growls, tugging his arm. She refuses. "Now"
"I need to talk with you" she replies, equally hostile.
"And I need to check on my kid-"
She balks. "Your kid?" She crows, loud enough to draw everyone's attention. Not that Rooster notices. Between fleeting glares at Ruth, his eyes flicker back to the doors he just saw his youngest student tear through in a state of panic.
"Rooster, it's okay" Maverick eases, a hand on his shoulder, squeezing encouragingly. "I'll go look for her"
"Thanks, Mav" Rooster bites between clenched teeth.
"Rooster? Mav? What kind of names are those? " the lady sneers, as they both watch Mav jog after their charge."And why on earth is my step-child going by 'Dodger', now?"
Rooster zeros in on Mrs Dawson, jaw set, eyes narrowed. He uses all of his height to intimidate her, and snarls lowly, "Get your hands off me, and maybe, I'll tell you"
She releases his wrist.
Maverick finds Judy in no time.
She hadn't gotten very far, curled herself up in the locker room floor, shimmying herself into a gap between the benches shoved up against the tiled walls. Coats hang suspended on pegs above her head, some draping low to cover her like an umbrella. A shield.
She tries to make herself as small as possible, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, breathing heavily and staring at her shoes. She starts when he enters, realises who it is, and breathes with relief.
“I'm not going with her" she says, voice tight.
"When did I say you were?" Mav replies easily, taking a seat on the bench across the room from her. She shakes her head.
"You don't have to. She's manipulative. She'll get her own way" she continues, shaking like a leaf. From fear or anger, Mav can't tell. Her face is tucked low and difficult to read- like a swirling canvas of emotions so fleeting, it makes him dizzy just watching the rise and fall of her eyebrows. "She'll drag me back home, and she'll force me to stop being a pilot"
Mav smiles sympathetically, "I don't think anyone can stop you from that kiddo. It's a part of you"
"she'll try. she's good at sucking the life out of people" she looks close to tears now, sniffling wetly, eyes glistening as she finally glances up at him through her eyebrows, "Please Mav, I don't want to leave here. I like it here. It's my home. You guys are-" she chokes on a stray hiccup, before hiding her face in her arms.
“I can't leave. I can't" she declares, voice muffled through the fabric of her sleeves. "I feel closer to my dad here. He'd want me to be here. He'd want me to stay with you guys"
Mav's smile grows sad at the mention of her father, and he sits forward on his heels, leaning closer off the bench to talk to her. "Well, there isn't much that I can do here, kid" he says, and watches the way her hunched shoulders fall at his statement, her face peeking out from its hiding place to look at him, crestfallen. Defeated.
"But you?” He continues, "Well, you can go back in there and tell that wicked witch your home is here. With us" he grins slowly, eyes twinkling with his usual boyish spark. They didn’t call him Maverick for nothing. "whadaya say, soldier?"
The girl sniffs again, and then, slowly, something in her shifts. She uncurls herself, chin lifting, a ghost of a smile grazing her lips. He stands, walks over to her, and offers her a hand.
She takes it.
“I'll be taking her back home with me."
Ruth states tirelessly for the umpteenth time, having barely given her tongue a moment to rest for the past ten minutes. Roosters ears were beginning to ring from the woman's constant talking. "This is no place for a girl her age. It's dangerous"
“Judy doesn't have to leave if she doesn't want to" he says, repeating Cyclones own admission for what they both felt was the millionth time, "she was chosen to be here"
Cyclone nods in agreement, "legally, you haven't the right to remove her from the programme, Mrs Dawson. Only herself or her superior officer- if he deem it unfit for her to continue the course- can do so"
“Her superior officer?" Ruth echoes, prompting Rooster to give a sarcastic wave, watching in delight as Ruth scowls at his wiggling fingers.
Her eyes narrow, restless tongue poking the inside of her cheeks as she breathes long out her nose. "I'm her step-mother, I think I know what's best for her"
Rooster laughs, humourless, but pointed, folding his arms over his chest at the woman's gall. "You really don't"
"Oh? and I suppose you do?" She bites back, "Who even are you, Mr Bradshaw?"
Rooster opened his mouth to reply, but she wasn't quite finished.
"-You're certainly not her father" she hisses, voice waspish, and Roosters jaw snaps shut at the declaration, molars grinding painfully across each other . "I would know, I had to bury him"
Bradley fixed her with a hard look, "I'm not trying to be her father-" It was her turn to laugh now. A short, delirious noise, showing just how much she believed him. He elected to ignore it, favouring for carrying on with his point.
"But I do know what's best for her" he leans into her personal space, feeling satisfied when the woman shrinks back just a touch. "More than you"
It was at that moment that Maverick returned to the bunker, a withdrawn looking Dodger in his wake. She glanced up at him, flashing him a small smile, before her eyes fell to her step-mother and her jaw set uncomfortably. Judy felt Maverick squeeze her shoulder, stooping slightly to whisper encouragingly into her ear.
"Get your brave face on, Soldier" he says softly, and Judy nods determinedly, small whisps of chestnut hair ticking Mav's cheek. "Atta' girl" he says, before giving her a small push towards her legal guardian (and her pseudo one).
Rooster took a few steps back from the pair, respecting their personal, family conversation, yet still remaining close enough that Judy (and himself, if he were being honest) felt comfortable.
"Judy" Ruth greeted, clipped.
"Ruth" Dodger quipped back, matching the lady's tone. Rooster chewed his lip to hide his grin.
The lady visibly bristled at the use of her first name, but remained civil about it. "Why are you here?"
"I study here" is Dodgers blunt reply.
"This place?" Ruth gestures around them, looking entirely displeased. "This is a jungle gym for sweaty men. This is no place for a girl like you"
"How would you know what's best for a 'girl like me'?" Dodger says, raising her chin a touch when she felt the instinct to shrink away from the woman's blazing eyes. 'Be brave, little soldier' she heard Mav's voice whisper in her mind. "You hardly know me"
Mrs Dawson looked ready to pitch a fit, or atleast, another one. Her knuckles clench, acrylic nails digging into her palms, body shaking with fury. "I'm your mother. Your parental guardian. The first person on the list for when you wind up in hospital after throwing yourself out of one of those death contraptions" she gestures to the still sud-lathered jets behind them. Judy blinked. "You mean a plane?" "Don't be difficult Judy" Ruth huffed, rolling her eyes skyward, "you were always so difficult with me"
‘You weren't exactly the best with me, either' Judy thought, but held her tongue.
"You're not staying here. You're coming home" Ruth states, her tone broaching no room for argument. But Judy wasn't backing down.
“Why? Why now?" She asks, brow raised, lips curling into a sneer of her own "Running low on money, Ruth?"
The woman bristles, voice low, "Excuse me?"
"Need me to come home so you can take my bursary fund again? Or make me work an extra job?" Angry tears sting the corners of Dodgers eyes, but she stubbornly blinks them away. Brave soldier. Brave soldier.
They watch as Ruth gasps, clutching a manicured hand to her chest, breath catching. She shakes her head."Now, That's not fair, Judy. And you know it"Ruth says airily, sounding close to tears, attempting for a approach to garner more sympathy. But her charade was winning no one over, "I've been doing my best to support you after your fathers death"
"Yeah...By spending all his earnings on yourself and then pawning off his belongings for more money"
"What on earth are you talking about? I think you're remembering things a lot differently"
'Ha.' Dodger thinks, body vibrating with her own barely retained anger, 'you would say that, wouldn't you Ruth?'
"You didn't support me. You didn't even like me- for gods sake, you sent me to a school halfway across the state!" She exhausts, voice catching a little at the end. But she'd done it, she'd stood up to the woman. And that was enough. And it was also enough, to turn Ruth's sad face sour.
“How dare you speak to me like that, you ungrateful little girl" she snarls, "I sent you away to get a proper education"
“Well, now I'm educated enough to make my own decisions-" Dodger parries cleverly, folding her arms across her chest and stepping back with finality, "I'm not going anywhere with you."
Behind her Mav smiles proudly, and Rooster watches him beam with a knowing smirk of his own. 'Mavdad magic', the daggers often coined it. Mav had a way of making others believe in themselves they way he believed in everyone.
"Oh, please" Ruth huffs, a delirious laugh bubbling up her throat, "Where else will you go? I'm the only family you have left"
Dodger smirks, "This is my family. Right here"
"This?" Mrs Dawson scorns, brandishing a hand around at the aviators that had slowly accumulated behind Rooster. "This is a laughable! A ragtag team of men who fly around in planes for a living?...they're not your family" she jeers, "they probably don't even like you. Wake up, Judy- You're a thorn in their side. Nothing else."
Dodger blinks, swallows, and wills herself not to cry. Because that stung. That stung a lot. But she refused to yield to her Step-mothers games, she'd played them all before. She was tired of playing. Which is why, with a sad little sigh, she said, "Goodbye Ruth"
She turned away, and set a path towards a smirking Rooster, flocked by a very proud looking unit behind him. But Ruth wasn't quite finished,
"Don't you walk away from me!" She cried, so furious that spittle flew from her mouth as she yelled, "Don't you dare turn your back on your family!"
Judy stopped, whirled round so fast she almost gave herself whiplash, and marched back up to the woman, sticking her face so close to hers she could feel the woman's hot breath fanning across her cheeks. A fierce scowl marred the girls face.
"You are not my family!" She snapped, losing her patience at last. "You're just some bitch my father married-"
WHAM.
Judy didn't see the slap coming till her head was reeling back from the force of it, and she was staggering to the floor. The entire right side of her face flared with pain. Instinctively, she cupped her hand over her cheek, as if the action would dull the red-hot stinging sensation she felt prickling there. Ow.
She heard a bunch of people yelling, one voice standing out amongst the rest. It was Loud, enraged, shouting profanities so fiercely that Judy found herself cowering her head down to the stone floor in childish fright.
"Don't you dare touch her-!” She heard a scuffle, and then hurried footsteps coming closer. Someone gently helped her to her feet, pulling her away from the scene. Warm hands rubbed soothingly up and down her arms as the person held her closely to their chest. Still clutching her face, Judy glanced up to find Maverick staring down at her, eyes wide and concerned. He was talking to her, his low, soft voice a heavy contrast to the shouting she heard around her. He asked her if she was okay, but she was too stunned to reply. Instead, she whipped round to stare wide-eyed at the commotion unfolding in the hangar.
Hound-dog and Rickroll were struggling to hold back a rather feral looking Rooster, who thrashed dangerously in their grip, trying to free himself. Judy's teammates we're talking to him in loud but steady voices, begging him to calm down.
“Easy, Captain!" She heard Hound-dog call, "keep your cool, man. Don't let her get you riled up!" Rooster wasn't hearing him, his eyes were set on the woman a few feet away from the group, who'd been roughly dragged back by Hangman and Cyclone as soon as her hand had made contact with Judy's face.
"That's enough, Bradley" Maverick called warningly, chest rumbling against Judy's back from where he still had her wrapped her up in his arms, almost as if he were trying to cocoon her from the woman in front of them. Rooster was still shouting obscenities, his one voice drowning out the many that tried desperately to reason with him. Try as they might, nothing they said would settle him. He was absolutely livid.
Bradley continued to yell at the irate woman, barely even aware of what he was saying-
"I swear to god-" he roared, causing Hound-dog to wince as his ears were assaulted by the volume of his words."if you ever-"
"Brad" Mav warned again, trying to get the younger man's attention.
"-Put your hands on my kid again-"
"Bradley!"
"I will fucking kill you-"
“Bradley Bradshaw; That's ENOUGH" The room fell silent at Maverick's thunderous shout.
Bradley blinked, knocked out of his stupor by his guardians words. Suddenly becoming aware of himself and the rest of the people in the room, he whipped his head round till his eyes fell on his pseudo-Father. Maverick blew out a strained sigh, thumbs sweeping back and forth over Judy's shoulders comfortingly as she shook in his grasp.
"That's enough" he repeated, low and steady. Bradley, still shaking with the tremors of his previous rage, looked into Mav's kind, yet authoritative face, before sweeping his gaze down to the girl in his arms. Judy stared up at him, eyes wet and holding his hesitantly. She was clutching the right side of her face, fingers trembling.
Rooster went slack at the sight of her, all the energy draining out of him like a deflating balloon. Hound-dog and Rickroll seemed to notice this, because in the next minute Rooster was shimmying out of their hold with little effort, reaching Judy in seconds.
She stared up at him, sucking in a breath when his hand reached up to move her own out the way. It was a gentle action, contrasting with the steely look that adorned his face as he stared down at her. She had to remind herself that his anger wasn't directed at her. But for her.
Roosters own breath hitched at the sight he was met with. A large, red hand-print mottled her entire cheek, a small purple bruise already forming beneath her eye. There were two angry scratches along her face, one running across her cheekbone and the other up by her eyebrow. Rooster quickly surmised that it was most likely where the woman's long, blood-painted nails had caught her. His thumb gently brushed over the abrasion on Judy's cheek-bone, fingers retracting immediately when her face scrunched up in pain. "Ow" she mumbled mechanically. "Sorry" he whispered sincerely.
Then, he twists round, glaring menacingly at the woman who caused all this. His face was once again terrifying- yet nowhere near where it had been moments before. "See what you did to her?" He says, voice low and quaking, gesturing to the girl peeking out from behind his back and glancing around at everyone through hooded eyes. Ashamed eyes.
The woman shoves herself out of Cyclones grip, batting away Hangman's hands, her nose turned up at them all. "She called me a bitch" she says hotly, her tone holding no remorse.
"I'm sure you've been called worse" was Roosters retort, barely acknowledging the warning murmur of 'Easy, Brad' from behind him. Maverick.
His guardian stood just as resolute, glaring the woman down over his sons shoulder. In contrast, his gentle hands still held Judy's shoulders and soothed the tense muscles there as best they could. She stood, practically sandwiched between the two men, shaking like a leaf, eyes downcast- the fight in her long gone.
"I see where she gets that new mouth of hers" Ruth huffed, "some role model you are, Captain"
"Watch it, lady" Hangman warns in a dangerous drawl, his usual wistful blue eyes now a stormy green.
"Judy. You're coming home. Now" Ruth declares once more, final. Judy shook her head, though her eyes didn't meet the lady with the same level of defiance she'd given her pre-slap. In fact, she didn't look at her at all. Judy was now meek, silent, and desperate for the woman to just leave her alone.
"Judy" Ruth warns, "I won't ask you again"
Eyes latched onto a speck of dust on the floor, Dodger’s shaking fingers found the back of her Captains shirt and clung- grounding herself, silently seeking a small token of comfort from the man. He still had his back to her, broad shoulders covering her almost completely from the older woman's view. He stood tall and strong, every muscle in his back taut and ready- an unwavering force against the woman who threatened to take his youngest student away from them. From him.
“Shes staying here" Maverick says from behind him, no longer kind and patient, "this is where she belongs" But Ruth refused to hear him, "Shes coming home. Judy, go pack your things." It's quiet, so quiet Judy can hear her own ragged breathing in her ears.
"NOW, JUDY MARIE!” she roared.
Judy's head was dizzy with distress. Heavy, it fell forward, forehead mashing against the middle of Roosters back. She felt a whine croak out of her throat, tears dripping into the ruffled shirt of her Captain. She felt like screaming. Didn't she understand? She was home. But all that came out of her mouth were a series of stupid whimpering noises, low enough that only Rooster and Maverick could hear- she hoped at least. Still, she felt hot with embarrassment, and hid her face further into Bradleys back. She was acting like a child.
Don't let her, a voice in her head screamed, and the hand that was twisted up in Roosters shirt was swiftly joined by its twin, both hands now clinging on to her Captain for dear life. Please, don't let her take me away from here.
"She's staying" She hears Rooster speak, a hand of his own reaching behind him, grabbing her forearm and steadying its shaking- as if the action alone sealed his statement.
"You haven't the authority to keep her here!" Ruth is screaming now, but the volume of her words do nothing to sway the officers in the room, "I'm her mother!"
"And you haven't the authority to remove her" Rooster parries, squeezing Judy's wrist, almost suffocatingly- as if proving to himself that the kid was still there. "Im her-" he pauses, breathes, "Captain. And as her Captain, I say she stays".
Mrs Dawson peers around the man, directing her next words to the girl hiding behind him. "After all I done for you?" The girl refused to look at her, opting to lean against the tall man and stare down at her shoes.
“Fine" Ruth bristled, "Stay, for all I care! but if you change your mind, I won't be welcoming you back with open arms, Judy Dawson" She's rummaging through her bag, furiously fumbling with the lock screen on her phone and searching for her car keys. "Stupid little girl" she mumbles beneath her breath, turning away, refusing the hands that move to escort her.
She stops, and with one last spiteful sneer, states,
"Your father would be very disappointed in your choice"
Silence.
The air is so thick it could snuff out a candle. No one dared to breathe. All completely in shock by what they'd just heard. Judy felt like everything that had been keeping her alive and human thus far had been completely emptied out of her chest. There was no breath in her lungs, no beat in her heart- nothing. She'd completely stopped existing after that sentence had reached the air.
“Get out” Rooster broke the quiet with thunderous fury, his words venomous and seething. "Get out, now!" He roared, and this time not even the warning words from Maverick could hold back his tongue, "How dare you say that to her! How dare- you shouldn't even get to look at her, let alone say something so, so-! Get the fuck out now! Before I-!"
But Ruth Dawson is already being seen out, escorted non too nicely by the arms of Cyclone and several other aviators. Rooster watches her go, chest heaving. As soon as she's out of sight, he spins around and drags the girl hiding behind him into a crushing embrace- and Judy feels her chest stutter with air, her heart kick in like a drumbeat. She's spurred back into life with a heavy sob. She cries loudly, choking on her tears, very much aware that her squad could hear her bawling like a baby. But she couldn't stop even if she wanted to.
“Shh" her Captain soothes, chin stooping low to press a single kiss into her hairline as she wails brokenly into his shirt. "Shh, you're okay. You're okay, Jude. God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." he whispers, voice cracking with how soft he was now forcing it to be. "I didn't know she would - I'm so sorry, sweetheart"
"I don't-" she cuts off, choked by a hiccoughing-cry that jolts her whole torso, "I don't want to see her ever again" she looks up at him, her sad, watery eyes pleading, "ever, Roo. I-"
"You won't" he interrupts, speaking between hushes, trying his best to calm the hysterical teen. "you won't, I promise" His words don't seem to work much, however, as she persists between uneven breaths,
“She's my- my legal guardian" more tears leak from her eyes, and she scrunches them shut to stop the flow, deeply mortified she was crying so openly in-front of her team. "What if she-" she coughs, trying to clear the heavy lump in her throat, and wets her cracking lips, "makes me leave? She can't do that, can she? she-"
"You're not leaving, Jude" the soft pad of a thumb swipes away the wetness on her cheeks, the gentle, repetitive motion helping to ground her.
"you're not going anywhere, okay?" Rooster says, trying yet again to ease her worries the only way he can- with promises he intended to keep. "Me and Mav, we're- we're gonna fix this, 'Kay?"
She only wails harder into his chest, voice muffled and drawn up from her lungs in the most sorrowful cry of, "How?"
Roosters lower lip shakes as he glances over the top of the girls head to look to his own legal guardian. Mavericks heartbroken face appears just as lost as he currently felt.
Good question.
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