Where Past and Future are Gathered

by xihe1874

Summary:

He feels… calm. He has saved Mav, and that bastard will be able to find a way home by stealing a jet or something like that. They have accomplished the mission successfully, and he may finally see his parents after so many years. Maybe he will meet Ice too, and he will definitely ask him why he and Mav won’t make each other happier.

The only thing he may regret is that he will never have the chance to taste that cigarette Hangman mentioned.

Rooster closes his eyes and lets the force pull him to the dark.

 

After Rooster's jet gets hit, he opens his eyes to see his dad and Mav standing in front of him, in their twenties and definitely alive.

 

Or, Rooster goes back to 1986, saves his parents, helps two idiots get together, and realizes his feeling for another idiot.

Notes:

So, long story short: brainrot being brainrot, and I being myself, so I cook this up in half a day. You are welcome.

I have read many fantastic time travel fix-it fics in this fandom (a glorious example is qin_ling's "As Lions", if you haven't read it, you definitely should check it out!! It's AMAZING), and I notice that most of them are featuring Maverick goes back in time.

So in this fic, I decide to let our beloved dagger dad have a peaceful time and throw Bradley into the time whirlpool instead. I am so excited to share this with you, and let's see what will happen, shall we?

Disclaimer: I own nothing and I don't support military irl.

 

(Title from "Burnt Norton" by T.S. Eliot)

Chapter 1

Rooster leans forward on his chair and keeps his eyes firmly ahead. 

Cyclone is going on and on about tomorrow’s mission, some shit like patriotism or sacred duty, maybe. He lost concentration a long time ago but still fixes his gaze on the sturdy admiral, even when his mind is blurred by the tedious speech and meaningless lip movement.

He has to. Otherwise, his eyes will instinctively go to Maverick, sitting in front of him now. He will notice the tremor in his arms or the way the old man clenches his fist so tight that he must have drawn blood.

Only thirteen hours have passed since Maverick pulled the crazy stunt and literally stole his way back to the mission. Only twelve hours since he was announced as the team leader. And only ten since he dropped the bomb and chose Rooster as his wingman.

Speaking of Mav’s wingman… It’s only been two days since Ice died. 

Rooster squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath to suppress the sudden surge of emotions in his chest. Several high-ranking Navy officers delivered formal and solemn memorial speeches at the funeral, singing empty praises of the late admiral’s glorious achievements. Maverick, however, didn’t speak - he didn’t even shed many tears. He hammered his badge into the coffin with eerily stable hands, saluted the picture, and then walked away without a word.

Every attendee looked at Sarah, Ice’s sister, and the rest of his family with sympathetic and mournful eyes, so no one noticed the weird conduct of the admiral’s ex-wingman. But Rooster saw Maverick stop at a corner and hump his body, beginning to retch. 

Being raised by and growing up around this man means that Rooster has seen and known many things, even if he cut himself off from his godfather a decade ago. Watching Maverick clench his hand around the chest and shudder in unspeakable grief, Rooster had to bite his lips hard to avoid going to him. 

Maverick has loved Ice for more than thirty years, and that is a fact Rooster never doubts for a second. And judging by the fact that Ice has more interest in being Mav’s guardian angel than getting married, he probably loved Mav more.

 

He startles at Maverick’s voice. It seems that Cyclone asks the mission leader to say something too.

“I believe in each of you.” His godfather is speaking, his voice hoarse, and Rooster looks at him, taking in his bloodshot eyes and wrinkles. There is something in Maverick’s eyes akin to sad determination and automatic persistence. “And I also believe that we can make it, and make it home.”

Maverick’s eyes linger on Rooster’s face for one more second, and then he continues. “I will not talk about the mission now, as I have told you everything in the past several weeks. Please rest well tonight, and we will do our best tomorrow.”

Or we die.

The sinking feeling in Rooster’s stomach doesn’t get any better.

He glances around the room. Phoenix is whispering something to Bob, and the WSO looks at her softly and nods. Payback stares out the window while Fanboy is fiddling with his pen. Hangman, however, is looking at him directly, his face totally unreadable.

The scrutinization makes Rooster uncomfortable, and he quickly turns away. 

Tomorrow . Rooster is trying very hard not to think about the phrase “last night”.

———

 

He can’t fall asleep.

 

It’s well past 11 pm, but Rooster still lies with his eyes wide open. He stares at the ceiling and listens to Bob’s steady breath. Turning over, Rooster kicks off the blanket and rubs at his sweaty face.

Ten minutes later, he sighs and gets up.

No one is in the corridor, so he wanders like a ghost until he sees the light in the ready room and hears Hondo’s voice.

“I am worried about you, Mav. And I don’t like that look.”

He creeps over and sees his godfather sitting in a chair, face buried in his hands. 

Maverick laughs in a watery way, and his voice comes out muffled. “It’s the only one I’ve got. And please, go have some sleep. I will be OK.”

Hondo pats him on the shoulder and raises to his feet. “I know you need to have some time alone. It’s just… so many things have happened. Ice’s gone, and Rooster….”

Rooster holds his breath at the mention of his name.

“Yeah. Sorry I can’t talk about Ice right now.” Maverick exhales, and it’s evident he is trying hard to keep his voice even. “But about Bradley, I know he is a damn good pilot and can make it. He just needs to believe in himself.”

But you don’t believe in me. 

Rooster almost barges in when he hears Mav’s following sentence.

“I am ready to do anything to make it possible, Hondo. I am ready. That’s what I am here for.”

He sees Hondo shake his head slightly and hug Mav before he walks out of the room from another door.

 

Rooster stands there for a long time, staring at his godfather’s figure. Maverick looks even older, sitting alone in the dark room. He considers walking in and asking all the questions accumulated in his heart for decades, the old ones about pulling papers and the new ones about the exact meaning of “doing anything”. He also wants to tell Mav that he didn’t mean some of - most of - the things he said. But he just stands still and lets the chilly wind blow over his bare arms.

————

 

He sees the lit cigarette first, then the person holding it.

 

Hangman raises the cigarette to his lip, inhales once, and blows a smoke ring, his eyes glued to Rooster in the dim light. A robin starts to chirp somewhere.

Rooster walks up the staircase until he reaches the rooftop. They stand side by side momentarily, Hangman’s gaze blazing on Rooster’s face.

“Didn’t know that you smoke.”

“Normally don’t. But we can’t drink now, which sucks.”

Why are you staring at me like that? He wants to ask, but what comes out is instead - “Can I have a drag?”

Rooster turns around and is captured by the glitter in Hangman’s blue eyes. He is handsome, Rooster thinks, an asshole, but still gorgeous. Hangman holds the cigarette, and Rooster reaches out to take it, his heart beating against his chest.

But instead of handing it over, Hangman ducks his head to take another puff and pulls Rooster close with one hand behind his neck until their lips are only one inch apart.

The warmth of Hangman’s hand burns Rooster’s skin, and he shuts his eyes when the smoke passes between their lips. The other pilot’s finger gently rubs little circles on Rooster's neck, and his breath is hot on the other’s moustache. 

“You are stingy like that?” His own voice hoarse beyond recognition.

Rooster feels the hand on his neck tighten like Hangman is holding on to Rooster and refuses to let go.

“Full experience is only available when you are back, Bradshaw.” Hangman is whispering. He raises his other hand and caresses Rooster’s lower lip with his thumb. “So make sure you get back.”

—————

 

The next day comes in the blink of an eye. When Rooster sits inside F-18 alone, his brain a hot mess, he looks up to the bright sky and whispers. “Talk to me, Dad.”

 

He hears Maverick in their private comm. “You got this, kiddo.”

“Dagger One is hit!”

“Rooster, Mav is gone. We have to get back.”

Get back. 

We will talk when we get back . The sentence overlaps with Hangman’s similar words, replaying in his ears. 

Rooster clenches the handle and turns it with more strength than necessary.

 

 

When his jet is hit, and the explosion almost deafens him, Rooster knows he will not make it. He feels… calm. He has saved Mav, and that bastard will be able to find a way home by stealing a jet or something like that. They have accomplished the mission successfully, and he may finally see his parents after so many years. Maybe he will meet Ice too, and he will definitely ask him why he and Mav wouldn't make each other happier. 

The only thing he may regret is that he will never have the chance to taste that cigarette Hangman mentioned. 

Rooster closes his eyes and lets the force pull him to the dark. 

—————

 

“You, hey, you! Wake up!”

Bradley doesn’t want to wake up. He is so tired that it is almost like he has run a hundred miles. He shakes his head and turns over.

“Mav, come here!”

He hears footsteps.

“What, Goose, I was planning to serenade… wow, what is this?”

Now, that voice sounds quite familiar, if only more cheerful and lively than he remembers. Bradley struggles to open his eyes and sees two men squatting around him. One of them has a moustache and brown hair that look like his. The other has dark hair and shiny green eyes and is examining him suspiciously. Both are young and wearing white uniforms. 

Bradley vaguely realizes that he is lying on the ground. He tries to get up but groans at the headache. 

“Whoa, easy there.” The moustached man smiles at him warmly and helps him sit up. Bradley stares at him, and the other stares back with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, Goose, he looks exactly the same as you!”

Goose?

No, that can’t be.

“No, Mav, I am obviously way more handsome.” Goose frowns at the dark-haired man.

Mav.

Bradley’s brain slowly recovers, and he starts to remember things. The mission, Mav saving him, he saving Mav back, the darkness…

He looks around him and finds himself in a noisy bar. Men in white uniforms are everywhere, mixed with civilians. Their dressing styles are old-fashioned, which reminds Bradley of the old photo of his mom. There is music in the air, and Bradley recognizes it as “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’”, released in… 1965.

He snaps his head back to gaze at the two men before him. 

His dad and Mav, in their twenties, are young and alive. The faces he could only imagine using faded photos and memories previously are right before his eyes. 

“What is happening here?”

Another voice, deep and smooth. Bradley raises his head to see a young Ice with spiky hair. He is wearing shades, but it’s definitely him, as the irritated way he purses his lips at Mav is too familiar. He hasn’t heard this voice in almost five years since Ice’s cancer became severe.

It’s a dream. Or he is already dead. He looks back at his dad and whispers. “Is it a dream, Dad?”

His dad splutters in confusion. “What, no, what, I am not… What???”

Bradley doesn’t care. He just pulls his dad forward by the collar, hugs him tightly, buries his face in Goose’s shoulder, and cries when he feels his dad hesitantly put one hand on his head.

 

Chapter 2

Summary:

No. He can’t do this, sitting on the bathroom floor, listening to his dad calling him son in a voice that he already forgot, listening to his dad introducing himself and asking who he is.

He can’t. Even if it’s just a bizarre dream. 

Notes:

The second chapter! It's been a while since I watched Top Gun (1986) last time, so please don't hesitate to correct me if there are mistakes.

Here I want to say THANK YOU to me dear Tea (Teaminator here on AO3). You are the cutest and kindest person on this planet, and you have so many fantastic ideas that have inspired me a lot. Your warm encouragement means everything to me ❤️❤️

Please enjoy! <3

“He called you Dad, Goose.”

“Yeah, Mav, I heard him.”

“He called you DAD!”

“Shush, Mav. You are shouting.”

“And why does that matter? We are alone in the bathroom, and no one will hear us.”

“You will scare him. He looks weary.”

Goose shakes his head slightly at a pouting Maverick. Really, his pilot is even more childish than Bradley sometimes. He glances at the young man curling up on the cold tiled ground and notices that the other is squeezing his eyes shut. The young man is trembling slightly, his brown curls shaking. Unconsciously, Goose raises his hand to touch the wet spot on his shoulder.

Ten minutes ago, when the crowd gathered around, he gestured to Mav, who got the message immediately and fetched a bottle of cold water. Then he patted the young man gently on the back and whispered that they’d better go to a more private place. The stranger didn’t even raise his head. He just nodded and let Goose lead him by a hand on his shoulder. 

Goose walked past many pairs of curious and puzzled eyes, including those of Kazansky’s and Kerner’s. The Iceman had removed his aviators and was frowning at them, his whisky totally forgotten.

Huh . He mused. It’s gonna be fun.

They entered the bathroom, and Maverick locked the door behind him. The stranger still refused to let go, clutching Goose’s arms so hard that it almost hurt. It took him a good five minutes and all the skills acquired from dealing with Bradley to get the young man to loosen his death grip and sit down.

Now, Goose holds the empty water cup and observes him. He is probably around Mav’s age, but his disoriented expression and the tear stains on his face make him look younger. He is wearing some kind of weird g-suit that Goose has never seen before, but his helmet is nowhere to be found. Mav is right, though, about the uncanny resemblance between them. When he looked into the stranger’s eyes for the first time, it almost felt like staring at himself in the mirror in an unrealistic way.

And the way the young man acts… The confusion, desperation, and sadness were heartfelt when he called Goose dad and cried his eyes out. Therefore, Goose ruled out the possibility that the stranger was faking it almost immediately. 

He sits on the floor beside the young man.

“Hey there.” He speaks up tentatively, using the voice when Bradley has a nightmare, “Want to tell us what happened?”

No reply. The young man just sniffs and turns away. Maverick leans against the wall and crosses his arms before his chest. He meets Goose’s eyes, and Goose knows that Mav is thinking about the same thing - what the hell .

“I am Goose, by the way, and this is Maverick. We are both Navy pilots and here to attend Top Gun.” Goose continues the chit-chat, knowing that it can help people relax.

“By attending, he means winning.” Maverick flashes his wolfish smile, but Goose notices how the young man flinches.

“How about you tell us something about yourself? Like your name and where you came from?” Goose tries again, keeping his tone easy and light. “After all, we can’t help you if you stay silent, son.”

He is dumbstruck when a sob escapes the other’s lips.

 

----------

 

No. He can’t do this, sitting on the bathroom floor, listening to his dad calling him son in a voice that he already forgot, listening to his dad introducing himself and asking who he is.

He can’t. Even if it’s just a bizarre dream. 

Bradley tries his best to do deep breathing several times and bites his lips hard enough to draw blood. Too many memories tangle with each other in his brain and make it short-circuit. Mav maneuvered his jet to take the missile without warning and became entirely silent in the comm. He located the tiny figure from high above, and the relief was short-lived as he spotted the looming Mi-24. Hangman’s hand was warm on his nape. His dad played “Great Balls of Fire” while his mom laughed. He literally shouted to the comm, but Mav still didn’t answer…

He snaps back to reality (actually, he can’t tell what reality is now) when a hand grabs his shoulder.

“You OK, kiddo?”

Right. Maverick is not shot down for saving him and threatened by the Mi-24 here. Instead, he is now standing in front of him, leaning forward with a concerned look and waiting for his answer.

His godfather’s grip is as firm and solid as an anchor, and Bradley can’t help but think back on his sixteenth birthday, right after his mom died of lung cancer. Mav had held him with the same strength when Bradley sobbed silently, whispering that he would always be there for him.

His mom. 

A sudden surge of pain washes through Bradley’s body. Will he see his mom in this dream? Will he? Theoretically, people can’t control what they dream about, but how Bradley longs for that.

Belatedly, he realizes his two fathers are staring at him, and the perturbation in their eyes has increased significantly. He takes another deep breath and touches the tile, feeling the coolness under his shivering fingers. The smell of disinfectant is strong, and Mav’s green eyes are shining brightly. It’s all… quite real, and he has never had any dream like this.

Can it be… No, that’s ridiculous. 

Bradley raises his head and looks at his dad. The curiosity and perplexity in his brown eyes make Bradley’s chest ache, and he suddenly realizes with great sadness that his dad didn’t even know his call sign.

He is here, and the dream - or whatever it is - has not ended yet. He can rectify some regrets, even if his brain is merely messing with him because of the impending death. Even if the whole thing is nothing but his crazy illusion.

So he clears his throat and begins to talk.

“I, hmm, I am sorry for all the….” He vaguely gestures to his dad’s shoulder, his mind finally clear enough to feel embarrassed.

Then he hesitates. Telling them that this is Bradley from the future, who had lost one of them decades ago and just finished saving the other from a suicide mission? The surroundings seem too normal for this insane story. So Bradley tries another way.

“And sorry for… sorry for calling you dad.” Bradley ignores the sadness in his heart. “I got drunk and mistook you for my dad because you… you remind me of him, that’s all.”

Goose tilts his head, and Bradley clearly sees that his dad has not been entirely convinced. But he doesn’t push the topic further and just smiles.

“Yeah, I can see why. There aren’t many guys with a mustache as good as ours.”

Maverick snorts fondly and smacks Goose on the arm. He turns to look at Bradley through narrowed eyes, and Bradley tries not to squirm at his godfather’s sharp gaze. All of a sudden, he is reduced to his ten-year-old self, who attempted to fake illness to avoid going to school.

“And where is he? Your father, I mean.”

Bradley shuts his eyes and takes a shuddering breath. Better to roll with the punches. 

“He… He passed away when I was four. In a training accident. He was also a Navy pilot, so that’s why I….”

No reply for a long time. When Bradley peeks at Maverick, the other is staring at him intensively, his face totally unreadable.

“And your mom?” His dad is speaking in a soft voice.

“She died of cancer when I was sixteen.”

Goose takes his hand and squeezes it, his face sad and sympathetic.

“So you have been living with your relatives ever since?”

“No, I…” He glances at Mav, and there is a distant look in the green eyes. “I lived with my godfather. He had flown with dad, so naturally, I dreamt about flying every day. Until… until I was eighteen, he pulled my paper for the Naval Academy.”

“He what??? That son of a… How could he do something like that?”

Bradley is rendered speechless at Mav’s sudden explosion. His godfather runs a hand through his dark hair, his jaw working, the emerald blazing with anger. “It’s your dream! And you had every chance to join the Academy! How could he….”

“Mav.” Goose raises a hand, and Mav stops yelling, but his stance is still defiant. “I believe his godfather must have his own reasons.”

“No matter what,” Mav utters between clenched teeth, “No one has the right to stop him from flying, be it a father or a godfather.”

Oh. Bradley realizes suddenly. Mav is not talking about him anymore. He watches Mav’s flushed face and has to bite his own lips to avoid voicing the millions of why’s that have haunted his heart for so long.

Goose’s face softens. He rises to his feet, walks to Mav, and pats him several times. 

“I am quite curious about your g-suit then, or is it a g-suit? Because I’ve never seen it before.”

Right, the g-suit. Bradley glances down and starts to panic. 

“I, well, after the incident, I spent another four years working extremely hard, and I was finally admitted by the Academy. And I am an… intern. At Top Gun. Tomorrow will be my first day.”

He regrets it immediately as his dad’s eyebrows are raised.

“An intern? I have never heard of that….”

Goose exchanges a look with Mav, who just shrugs and says, “I don’t care. He doesn’t look like a liar to me.”

“Okay…” His dad scratches his nose, a habit Bradley has also gotten into when thinking, “Tomorrow is your first day, you say? So you have your bunk assigned?”

“Well, no, it will not be assigned till… tomorrow.”

Tomorrow .

Will everything disappear tomorrow? Can he fall asleep again in a dream? If he wakes up only to face his lonely death, which reality does he prefer? Can he tell what reality is anymore? Does he want to go back anymore?...

Bradley’s messy thoughts are interrupted by Goose’s clapping his hands together.

“Alright then. Let’s get you a room in that motel nearby, and we will see what will happen tomorrow.”

 

 

When the door opens, Bradley sees that most customers don’t even glance at them. After all, it’s not unusual for someone to become drunk and lose control of themselves in a bar. But he senses a piercing gaze on his back and turns to meet Ice’s pale eyes. 

The future four-star admiral’s pose is as relaxed and calm as always. He raises his glass and sips the wine, his eyes never leaving Bradley’s face. 

A hand is put on Bradley’s arm protectively, and Mav steps forward to block Ice’s view. Bradley watches two of his paternal figures engage in a weird staring game. At the same time, his father stands aside with a confused expression. 

“Mother Goose!”

Another familiar voice and Bradley recognizes it as Slider, his affectionate uncle. Now he drapes an arm around Ice’s shoulder and smirks at them. 

“Kerner!” Goose is obviously relieved at the distraction. “They let you into Top Gun? Now I tremble for the security of this country.”

“And whose butt did you kiss to get here?”

“The list is long but distinguished.” Goose grins good-naturedly. “So you fly with Iceman now?”

“That’s Mr. Iceman to you.”

Bradley smiles despite himself. He has witnessed Slider’s aggressive affection for Ice so many times before. Still, he has no idea how the intensity of his protection is multiplied when they are red-blooded young men.

“This is Maverick.” Goose gestures to Mav, who doesn’t even hear him. 

“So I’ve heard.”

They fall into silence for a while. Goose and Slider exchange looks, noticing their pilots haven’t said a word yet.

“Maverick.”

A feral smile appears on his godfather’s face. 

“Iceman.”

“Figured it out yet?”

“Figured out what?”

“Who is the better pilot.”

“Nope.”

“Need some help?”

Bradley snorts and quickly coughs several times to cover it up. God help him, as that’s too awkward to watch. He has heard many anecdotes about the so-called tension between Ice and Mav from all his uncles, especially Slider. A fifteen-year-old Bradley would giggle at their distressed faces and say that his uncles must have exaggerated the whole thing. But when his adolescence ended, he began to notice things, like the lingering looks and touches between the two wingmen. Now, standing in the noisy bar and seeing their first interaction with his own eyes, Bradley decides all the complaints from his uncles are understated. 

And Phoenix said that Hangman and he were insufferable. 

Ice’s eyes turn to him, and he knits his brows.

“And this is….”

Goose steps in. “He is an intern at Top Gun. What’s your name and call sign, honey?”

“My call sign is… Rooster.” Better to stick with the truth as no one here knows his call sign at this point anyway. “And my name is….”

Damn. He can’t say Bradley, but he hasn’t come up with an alias. Under the stare of his dads and uncles, Bradley’s brain goes completely blank, so he blurts out the first name that appears in his mind.

“...Jake. My name is Jake.”

He is grateful for the dim light of the club so that no one can tell he is blushing.

“OK. Your family stops at Jake?” Goose teases him warmly, encouraging him to continue.

Bradley learned many years ago that the best way to tell a lie is to mix it with the truth. So he tries his best to recall his family tree and settles on his dad’s estranged uncle, who also went to the Navy and died quite young. Thankfully many in the Bradshaw family have served in the military.

“Bradshaw, that’s my last name.” Seeing their surprised face, Bradley hastily adds, “My father was John Bradshaw, and I was born in Ohio. He went to the Navy too.”

Mav, Ice, and Slider look at Goose, who seems amazed but nods slowly.

“Yeah, I had an uncle named John. The poor fellow died several years ago, leaving his son behind. And that’s all I know.”

“Well, that explains the look, I suppose… And is the mustache a family logo?” Mav playfully nudges Goose with his shoulder.

“So this is your distant cousin? What a coincidence.”

“I guess so….” His dad’s warm eyes fall on Bradley. “Rooster. Jake Bradshaw?”

Bradley chokes on the air and coughs for two minutes.

 

 

----------

 

Bradley lies on the bed in the seaside motel room, fighting to keep his eyes open. He is wearing one of his dad’s Hawaiian shirts that Goose was kind enough to lend him when Bradley told him he didn’t bring any clothes. 

He traces the colorful patterns with his fingers. Bradley knows this one. It is stored in his apartment in California, folded on the second shelf of the third closet from the left in the main bedroom. He has worn it five times. 

The shirt looks more glorious than he remembered as it hasn’t experienced all the vicissitudes of life, just like the people. 

Bradley clenches the sheet and listens to the soft humming of ocean waves. 

His dad and Mav said they would pick him up tomorrow morning. If he has tomorrow. Bradley instinctively reached out and grabbed Goose’s sleeve when they began to leave and immediately withdrew his hand.

His dad just smiled and tucked him in. “It’s gonna be OK, Rooster. We will come here first thing in the morning, OK? Have a good rest, and everything will be alright.”

His eyes are closing. No, no, he doesn’t want to fall asleep and wake up from this dream. He doesn’t want it to end. 

Keep them open!

Keep them…

No! please don’t.

I just got them back…

 

Please…

 

Don’t…

 

 

 

----------

 

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead. Can’t be late for your first day at Top Gun, can we?”

 

Notes:

I adopted the wonderful suggestion of Tea and decided to explore Goose's POV a bit. Did it work?

Wow, Bradley's fake name is Jake. Who knows, right?

Hope that you like it! The next chapter may slow down a bit, but I will update it asap. Until we meet again <3

Chapter 3

Notes:

Sorry for the long wait!!

I want to thank my dear Teaminator and iwritetragediesnotsin for their kind help and wonderful betaing for this fic ❤️❤️ Tea, you are an absolute angel and lifesaver, and I am sending you a lot of love; iwritetragediesnotsin, thank you so much for your detailed betaing, and I appreciate it very much.

All the remaining mistakes are mine.

Hope this chapter is worth the wait ❤️

tw: mention of the Vietnam War, discussion about wars (and the author's anti-war belief), mention of Goose's accident

Maverick tries his best to suppress a yawn and fails miserably. Yeah, he is in the Navy. But who says that every pilot is an early bird? Getting up before seven is always torture. And waking up fifteen minutes earlier only to pick up that lad who is now staring at Goose with wide watery eyes? Definitely not worth it.

Even worse, he can’t even fly until the afternoon. A theoretical demonstration by a civil instructor, as he has heard from the gossip between Hollywood and Wolfman. Sounds like shit already.

Maverick never sees the point, as there is abso-fucking-lutely nothing “theoretical” about flying a jet. You climb in, caress the panel and the handle; you whisper, ‘You got it, Mav’; you exchange quips with Goose, then you fly. It’s almost instinctive, and he doesn’t need to know how the countless gears mesh with each other or why air flows on the surface in this specific way. The jet is just the mechanical part of himself, an extension of his heart and soul.

And the civil instructor is certainly a boring nerd who wears presbyopic glasses and knows nothing other than useless jargon. A total waste of time if you ask him. 

They should be allowed to fly from day one, Maverick thinks as he watches Goose speak softly to Rooster (“No, it’s OK Rooster, really. You don’t need to apologize for calling me dad again. I know you were still half awake.”). Then he can make that Iceman shut his stupid mouth. The better pilot? His ass. As soon as Iceman sees Maverick fly he will regret all that prodding, like the pen-spinning to show off his Annapolis ring or the provocation at the O’Club that made Maverick’s heart race with anger. God, just the thought of the other’s twinkling blue eyes increases Mav’s pulse. He hates the blonde idiot like that. 

Speaking of blonde… Maverick adds a new accusation against Rooster in his heart. Such a golden opportunity last night, and he had to ruin it with his sudden appearance and weird behavior. That girl is totally his type - gorgeous blonde hair, bright blue eyes, calm temperament, slightly older and probably more mature than him, and a sharp smile. He was this close to the microphone, and he is pretty sure that once he starts to sing, no one will resist his charm. Now it all crashed and burnt because of Rooster’s stupid ass. 

Will he meet the girl again? He will curse Rooster forever if he fails to do so, no matter whatever sad backstories that brunette has.

The said brunette is now lingering at the front door of the motel room and refuses to leave. Seriously, what is his problem?

“Rooster?” Maverick asks, glancing at Goose, who shrugs confusedly. “Come on. Viper said yesterday that whoever is late must do one hundred push-ups, and we still need to grab breakfast.”

Rooster turns around to stare at him, something akin to panic in his eyes. 

“Viper?”

“Commander Metcalf. I thought you knew that he is our instructor…?”

Rooster takes a deep breath and shakes his head slightly. When he looks at Mav again he is obviously calmer, if not a bit forced. “Yeah, of course. Still getting used to the fact that we will be flying against such a big name.”

He is so weird, Maverick decides. 

They are at that small place across the road, and Rooster keeps peeking at Goose when the other is chewing his shredded pork and beans burrito.

“So, um, Goose? You like beans?”

Goose turns slowly to face Rooster, his half-eaten burrito held in hand.

“... Yeah?”

“Like, all kinds of beans? Black beans? Pinto? Do you like them steamed? Baked? Or…”

Goose’s confusion is so evident that it almost makes the whole thing more hilarious. “Well, I… I prefer black beans. And, well, steamed and baked both sound great, I guess…?”

“You like burritos in general? Cuz I remember… I mean, I saw you order that without looking at their menu.”

Goose raises his hand, probably to scratch his head, and then seems to remember the burrito. Maverick catches his eyes and raises an eyebrow, signaling dude, I have absolutely no idea what is happening either, and not gonna help you; you deal with this curious burrito addict by yourself at the same time.

“Burritos are not bad. But honestly, nothing can hold a candle to cookies made by my wife. You should try it sometimes, Rooster. I still have some with me at the base.”

An apparent attempt to change the topic and lighten the mood. But Rooster turns away to rub at his eyes, and when he speaks again, there is a tremor in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Thanks.”

So. Fucking. Weird.

As they walk into the base, Maverick murmurs to Goose when Rooster’s attention is caught by the line of F-14s shining under the morning sun.

“He is not a spy or something, is he? Cuz we will be in deep shit if he is, and that’s too much trouble, even for us.”

“I don’t suppose so.” Goose stares at Rooster’s figure. “He only asks questions about some food anyway. Unless the enemy is developing burrito missiles.” He chuckles at his own joke.

Only the first line of seats is available when they enter the classroom. Maverick swaggers along the aisle to the front, feeling everyone’s gaze on him, especially the one from a specific blonde. 

Ready to get your ass kicked? He doesn’t say that aloud, and Goose should be proud of him.

 

Bradley hesitates for a second, then sits on the other side of the aisle. He recognizes all the young faces in the classroom instantly. 

Wolfman, wearing his cowboy hat and whispering in Hollywood’s ear (They showed up at the door of the motel room where Bradley was staying when he had refused to pick up Mav’s countless calls, and Bradley slammed the door at them so hard that he sprained his wrist. Much later, he learned from the headlines that they stayed in the Navy and got married on the same day when DADT was repealed).

Chipper and Sundown, reading some manuals (Bradley heard from some of his Top Gun classmates that they became commercial pilots after ten years in the Navy and remained best friends).

Slider, pulling down his aviators a bit to gaze at them (He has become another family member as well as Bradley’s secret informant of the update on Mav and Ice throughout the years). And, of course, Iceman, who is facing forward and also wearing the aviators, his expression perfectly neutral (Mav saluted to Ice’s picture, his eyes bright with unshed tears).

His dad is laughing at some of Mav’s witty remarks, and there are small wrinkles around his eyes. Under the morning sunbeam Goose’s eyes look like warm honey. A shade lighter than his own, and Bradley adds this precious detail to his list. Photos back then really did a lousy job at reflecting colors, faded or not.

He feels dizzy, like someone caught in a whirlpool. The tides of time are washing through him with such forces that he almost forgets everything else for a second. 

Almost.

Right. 

Viper will be here soon, and Bradley doesn’t think he can easily talk his way out of this one. He knows Viper, and to fool that cautious officer is much more difficult. 

Can one get a dishonorable discharge in a dream or…? Bradley thinks as he stares at the F-14s. Or this is not a dream, and he somehow gets back in time.

God, he is starting to slide into madness, isn’t he?

“Gentlemen.”

Everyone stops talking at once as Viper walks to the front. He turns around, and his piercing eyes immediately land on Bradley, who tries hard not to fidget in front of his loving but stern grandpa.

Don’t think; just do.

Viper opens his mouth, but Bradley beats him to it.

“Sir. I am wondering whether I can have a word with you.”

The Commander gazes at him for a while, and every second seems like a year. Bradley holds eye contact and prays that he can convey all the desperation to convince Viper. 

He doesn’t know how, but by some miracle, it works.

“OK. Jester, Charlie, please take over for now.”

Bradley follows Viper to the door, brushing past Jester and Charlie. He hears Mav murmur to Goose and steals a final glance at the relieved face of his godfather. 

Viper closes the door and gestures to Bradley to take a seat. He then sits down behind the desk and stares at Bradley without a word. A way to wear him down.

“Sir.”

“You’d better have a damn good explanation, or you know the consequence.”

Bradley’s memory of the day when his dad died has become very vague. However, he still remembers how Viper kneeled before him and promised to support them as much as possible. The old man has kept his promise. He has loved Mav as his son and Bradley as a grandchild. 

He will understand, and honestly, Bradley doesn’t know how to explain his sudden appearance other than telling the truth.

“I do have, sir. It’s just… It may sound a bit crazy.”

Viper raises one eyebrow.

“Believe me, young man. I have seen enough crazy shit, and your story won’t surprise me.”

Wanna bet?

“Well, I am Bradley Bradshaw, Lieutenant Bradshaw’s son. And I, um… I come from the future.”

Bradley would find Viper’s expression quite amusing if his stomach weren’t twisted with extreme anxiety now.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The year 2022, to be specific. I was sent by the Navy on a mission, and Maverick was the team leader. He tried to save me from a missile and got shot down. Then I got shot down because I wanted to save him. The next thing I know, I was lying on a club’s ground in the 80s and….”

“Please stop.”

OK, now Viper looks furious. Even though Bradley has spent hundreds of weekends with Viper’s family and knows the old man is a big softie behind that austere mask, he barely manages to stay composed.

“I didn’t expect that you had regarded it as a joke.”

“It’s true! You have to believe me, grand… I mean, sir. I thought it was a dream, but it all seems so real, and it continued even after I woke up this morning.”

Viper reaches out for the phone on the desk ( God, that looks so old ), probably to call someone to drag Bradley away and sentence him to death. Bradley begins to sweat and blurts out the first things that come to his mind.

“No, no! Please, sir, I… I know about Duke Mitchell.”

Viper stills. Bradley inhales and continues.

“I know you flew with him before, VF-51, the Oriskany. And in the Vietnam War, his jet was hit, and he could’ve made it back. But he stayed and saved three planes.”

Viper narrows his eyes and slowly withdraws his hand.

“This is top secret. May I ask how you get to know it?”

 

“ Bradley? You OK?”

Mav set the cup of iced chocolate milk on the desk before him. Bradley wanted to tell him to stop doing that - he would be 15 next month, and he was no longer a child.

“Fine.”

“You are moping, buddy.”

“’m not.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“What’s the point?”

“Pardon?”

“My dad. He died because of a training accident. What’s the point?”

Maverick tensed. He took a deep breath and tentatively raised a hand to touch Bradley’s shoulder.

“Bradley.”

“It’s just… He didn’t even go to war and was not a hero.”

Maverick was silent for a long time. Bradley stared at the drops of water around the glass cup.

“My dad, his name was Duke Mitchell, a Navy pilot too, and he went to the Vietnam War.”

Bradley turned to look at Mav with wide eyes. His godfather had never discussed his family, and Bradley almost forgot that Mav was technically not a Bradshaw.

“He flew with Viper once for VF-51, the Oriskany. During the war, his jet was hit, but he didn’t return to the base. He stayed and saved three planes before going down.”

“See, that’s what I mean! Your dad is a hero, and….”

“Let me finish, Bradley. That war happened over the wrong line, so the Pentagon covered it up and never told us. I grew up thinking my dad was a traitor or something until Viper told me the truth. My point is wars aren’t always noble and glorious, Bradley. Actually, if you go and ask Ice, he will tell you that they seldom are. Dying in a war is not something that you should dream of. It should be something that you try your damn best to avoid.”

“But…”

“I know many will tell you otherwise. But don’t you listen to them, Bradley. Going to war is far less important than going back home afterward.”

Bradley slowly nodded. 

“And also remember this: Goose is a hero. The Navy improved the ejection system after our accident, saving hundreds. And… he had saved me. So many times. If that doesn’t count as a hero, I don’t know what does.”

“I miss him.”

Maverick moved closer to hug him tightly.

“I miss him too, kid.”

Bradley was too focused on steadying his breath to notice the trembles in Mav’s shoulders or how Mav bit his lips so hard that he must have drawn blood.

 

“Maverick told me that, sir.”

“That’s bullshit.” Viper shoots a disapproving look at him. “That lad himself has no idea about all this.”

“He told me ten years from now. And I also know about you, sir. I know you and your wife have two sons, Lucas and Robert, and a daughter, Jamie, and all of them are cat lovers. The second Saturday of each month is your family day, and you will have dinner together no matter what. I also know….”

“Wait. How do you… Who sent you? You have been stalking my family or what?”

There is now anger and a trace of fear in Viper’s voice, and Bradley doesn’t blame him. The whole thing is so bizarre.

“You are like a grandpa to me, sir. And I have spent a lot of time with your family.”

Viper pins him with his intense stare, searching for abnormal signs on Bradley’s face.

“Why would you spend time with my family and me?”

“Because…” Bradley clenches his fist hard. “Because my dad died. He died in a training accident here, at Top Gun, this year. He hit the canopy when ejecting. And my mom had been in a bad state ever since. She died when I was sixteen. Maverick literally adopted me.”

Viper is still looking at him, his face totally unreadable.

“Please, Grandpa. Please. You can’t send me away. I have to do something now that I am here. I can’t watch him die again. Please.”

The old man stands up and walks to the window. Through it, Bradley can see the hall where others are now listening to Charlie’s lesson. He can hear vaguely that Maverick is bragging about his encounter with the MiGs. Ice apparently makes some unimpressed remarks because Goose turns around immediately, his face indignant and defensive. Young and alive.

“Have you thought about the consequences? What will you change, for example?”

Back to the Future came out last year, his useless brain suggests.

“I… I have, actually. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Honestly, I have no idea what will be changed and what will not. Maybe my presence here has already changed a hell lot of things. And I don’t know whether I can return to my time.” I don’t know what is happening there. Will Mav be safe? Will Hangman come to him? He will. At first glance, the man may seem like an asshole, but he cares for others. Will.. will he think of Bradley when they make their way back? Will Jake mourn for him? “I just… I want to try. Even if I fail. I want to try.”

Viper is staring at the young pilots, now laughing loudly at some antics of Mav and Goose.

“All right.” He murmurs. “All right, I will help you.”

Bradley can’t believe what he has heard.

“Sir?...”

“Your identity?”

“What?”

“Your fake identity. You haven’t told them who you really are, have you?”

Bradley blinks once. Twice.

“No. I said I am an intern here.”

“Your call sign?”

“Rooster.”

“That’s your true one, isn’t it.”

“Yes, how do you….”

“The same family as Goose.” Viper turns around to face him, a smile dancing around the corner of his mouth. “And your alias?”

“It’s, um, Jake. Jake Bradshaw.”

“Jake. You made that up?”

“No, it’s….” Bradley really hopes that Viper could look somewhere else. “It’s the name of a… friend. We attended Top Gun together, and he was the standby pilot of our mission.”

“A friend, huh?”

Bradley suddenly feels ill at ease. He coughs and desperately wants to change the subject.

“So, um, what should I do from now on, sir?”

“You just…” Viper walks past him to open the door. “Intern.”

He is pretty sure that the old man winks at him.

 

 

“Charlie, sorry that I have to interrupt you for a second. Gentleman, meet Jake Bradshaw, Second Lieutenant, call sign Rooster. He is an intern at Top Gun. Mav and Goose, you will be his mentors from now on.”

“God, I feel sorry for the kid.” Slider whispers to Ice (in a pretty loud voice), who just snorts.

“Hey, you shut up!” Goose stands up and walks to stand beside Bradley, draping an arm around his shoulder. “We will teach Rooster a hell of a lot of great things. Right, Mav?”

“Damn right. This Rooster here will blow you all away.”

Bradley is grateful that everyone is looking at Goose and Mav, or he will not be able to explain why his eyes suddenly water.

Notes:

Some of my head cannons in this chapter:

- Bradley got secret update on Mav and Ice from Slider every now and then. I mean, he is the child of Goose and Carole (who are both angels), so how could he not care for them and want to make sure they are safe? Bradley is definitely not a cold-hearted person.

- Viper is an important figure in Bradley's life before the papers withdrawal incident.

- Mav hates getting up early VERY MUCH.

Also, I want to assign a (fake) rank to Bradley, and Tea pointed out that it should be lower than the current one of Goose and Mav, but it should also high enough so Bradley could learn with them. After some research (with a lot of help from Tea ❤️), I decide to choose Second Lieutenant. If there is any mistake, please let me know!

(Should I add a "slow burn" tag since Ice and Mav & Jake and Bradley both have only talked once till now? lolll)

Please leave a comment to let me know your opinions!!!

Sending love <3

Chapter 4

Summary:

The adventure continues.

Notes:

All right. I am alive and I am back.

I am so sorry for the long LONG wait, and I am extremely grateful for everyone who bears with me and is still following this fic, everyone who is reading it right now, and anyone who will read it some points in the future. Thank you, my dear readers. ❤️

Life can be quite unpredictable, but the story must continue. So here we are, a new chapter!! We will get to have a glance at Iceman's thoughts and see more Goose/Rooster interaction.

Again, many many thanks for my dear Firecracker_aka_Teaminator who is an absolute angel. Thank you for having the patience to go through my messy writing and for supporting me ever so kindly.
I also want to thank stellarskyes, who has offered me very helpful suggestions on Navy ranking and planes. Thank you darling! ❤️

Here we go----

Maverick.

Pete Mitchell.

…Maverick.

The string of names chants in Iceman’s brain over and over, like a broken record. Like the smell of smoke that lingers on his skin and refuses to be wiped away.

Pete Mitchell.

The said pilot is now making obvious eyes at the blonde bombshell, who also happens to be their instructor, while bragging about the unbelievable interaction with the MiG and preening himself, almost.

Unbelievable as the interaction may be, Ice finds himself buying it the moment the other mentiones the encounter.

It has to be him. The mysterious protagonist in that widespread gossip in the Navy, the daredevil adventurer. 

It has to be Maverick.

The man is like wildfire. A wild card, with his blazing emerald eyes and crooked grin.

Ice hasn’t got the chance to see him fly, but it’s beyond all doubt that he will be like a lunatic. 

Impulsive. Brainless. Unreasonable. Stupid.

Dangerous.

…Attractive as hell.

Dangerous.

Last night at the O’Club, Ice spotted him the second the duo walked inside the bar. The pretty girl beside him was speaking, but his attention was entirely concentrated on the other pilot. The sunglasses did a good job of hiding his line of vision, but all the cells in Ice were pulled towards the same object anyway.

So he walked up and leaned forward, literally invading the other’s personal space. He said something foolish about the better pilot, maybe, and deliberately ignored Ron’s eloquent look pointed his way. 

The only thing he noticed was how bright Maverick’s eyes were.

Dangerous.

Iceman tears his eyes away and starts to watch the so-called intern, who is now sitting on a small wooden bench beside Goose.

There is something about this man that Ice finds bizarre - something out of place, although he can’t put his finger on what has gone wrong. Rooster, he called himself. A distant relative of Goose, he said. But those covert, sorrowful, and perturbed glances? Not quite how you would look at someone who you only met yesterday, even if you somehow share a great-great-grandfather or something.

Speaking of, now the same glances are being directed at Maverick. 

The intern is sitting perfectly straight with a neutral face, but Iceman is too familiar with stealthy peeks to ignore those signs.

That guy probably needs a pair of sunglasses. And something is definitely off.

Is Iceman curious about the reason?

Yes. And no.

Curiosity killed the cat. And Ice doesn’t actually have as many lives as those holy creatures.

So he will continue to observe from afar, collecting evidence bit by bit like an undercover spy. But he will not get close. Never.

His attention returns to the lecture. Or rather, the obviously flirtatious conversation between the civil instructor - Charlie, her callsign - and Maverick, the back of his head radiating smug energy.

Fucking show-off.

“...when he pulled through the clouds, and then I moved in above him.”

“Well, if you were directly above him, how could you see him?” Charlie raised an eyebrow.

Because he was inverted.

“Because I was inverted.”

Instinctively, Ice coughs into his fist. 

“Bullshit.”

That earns a roar of laughter from Slider. And three turned heads from the first row.

Rooster can’t restrain his amused smirk. Goose is loyally indignant. (God, the resemblance between them is scary, almost like some scenes from some shitty sci-fi)

Maverick… Maverick is staring at him unblinkingly, his emerald eyes flaming like torches. Slowly, a vicious grin lifts a corner of his lips.

Shut up and fuck you.

He mouths, or so Ice deciphers, staring at that pair of lips.

Ice raises an eyebrow nonchalantly.

Goose has turned back, saying something about giving MiG the bird (Rooster lets out a startled chuckle and immediately coughs to cover it up. Goose pats Rooster’s back several times. “I know, I know, pretty stunning, aren’t we?”)

But Maverick didn’t move a muscle. He just stares. And stares. Until that flaming torches start to smolder in Ice’s lower abdomen.

Then he turns around abruptly after some seconds or a million years, just like their first day when Viper was briefing them on the program, and Ice is suddenly caught between feeling relieved and feeling disappointed.

Dangerous.

 

 

All right. This is… quite entertaining. All would be much much more interesting if not for the looming dread in his stomach, but still.

It’s funny in the sense that you got to see a young and foolish version of your dad, your godfather, and the COMPACFLT. That you sit with them in the same class, and you watch your dad embarrass himself, or your godfather ridiculously flirt with the teacher, or the COMPACFLT think sunglasses really can hide his line of vision.

It’s so hard to keep a straight face when Ice literally attempts to snatch Mav’s attention. And it’s almost disgusting to see them undressing each other with eyes for nearly ten minutes.

Shame that decent phones will not be invented for another twenty years or so, or he could take some videos and show the Daggers. 

The Daggers. Some old friends, some new. And Hangman, who Bradley still has no idea how to categorize.

Will he be able to see any of them again? He will miss most of them, for sure. Hangman… That one is quite complicated and he doesn’t want to think about it now, but he could definitely use some smoking now (though he quit that a while ago), and someone did make a certain promise. 

Bradley sighs and follows his dad out of the lecture room.

Just the cigarette, he tells himself. He is just longing for the cigarette.

“Lieutenant.”

The instructor, Charlie (Bradley didn’t actually remember her from his own memory, just heard a bit about this one of his godfather’s many flings in Maverick’s crazy old days), is calling after them.

His dad straightens Maverick’s collar and says with a sweet smile. “You look great, honey.” And then signals to Bradley to leave with him first.

On his way, Bradley can see a figure with spiked hair standing in the shadows on the second floor and looking down at the whole interaction between Maverick and Charlie.

“You ever flew an F-14 before, Rooster?”

Under the afternoon sun, his dad is looking at him with his signature kind smile and Bradley somehow wants to cry. He ducks his head slightly to pretend a sudden interest in the landing gears.

“No.” He answers honestly.

Goose shakes his head and tut-tuts with good-natured annoyance. “They really should make those internships more meaningful.” He pats his helmet. The very same one is now treasured on the top of the bookshelf in Bradley’s apartment.

“No worries, son. We are gonna fix it and teach you how to get along with this beautiful lady in no time. Then you can fly with us in this wide open sky.”

God.

Bradley clenches his fist so tightly that there must be dents on his palm. He gazes into Goose’s eyes and lets the warm brown embrace him like a fireplace in the winter.

Can we play a game of catch, too? And play the piano together? And have a drink? And listen to your old radio, which despite my best efforts to repair it, stopped working a long time ago? Or just, do absolutely nothing and sit side by side on the couch for hours?

“Sounds wonderful. Thanks, Goose.” He whispers.

Thanks, dad.  

Then Mav storms into his view and mutters something about Iceman being a super giant asshole.

“Iceman? I thought you were talking with Charlie?” Goose sounds truly confused.

“What? Oh, oh you mean Charlie, right.” Mav runs a hand through his hair. “Charlie wants to know about the MiG.”

“And you told her to read about it herself.”

“And I told her to read about it herself.” Maverick flashes his teeth. Then his smirk is replaced by something bitter and ugly. “But Iceman is truly an asshole.”

Later he finds himself sitting in the ready room and listening to Hop 1.

Hop 1. 

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

The countdown begins now.

“We are below Hard Deck! Knock it off!” 

“He’s right. We’re at ten thousand.”

“What a Chicken-shit maneuver. No way. I got you, sucker. You're going down.” 

“In the envelope. Fox Two. You’re gone, Jester, DEAD!”

If sounds can dance, then now Maverick’s is doing a mix of popping and ballet.

“Roger Fox Two. Get your butts above the hard Deck. Return to Base immediately.” Jester sounds angry as hell.

Bradley shuts his eyes and tries to slow down his frantic heartbeat. There is still time, he reminds himself. There is still time.

 

“You guys really are cowboys.” 

Uh-oh. 

The soft-speaking-and-even-smiley Iceman. The scariest Iceman, to be honest, and Bradley has half the Navy agree with him on this point.

Much later, the genuine softness and smiles will more than frequently peek through the scariness and mostly be directed to one particular person. That person who is now glaring at his perfect (and naked) back.

“What is your problem, Kazansky?”

Ha.

The angry Maverick. This one is more constant throughout the years.

Ice slowly turns around.

“You. You are everyone’s problem. I don’t like you because you are dangerous.”

“That’s right, Ice… Man.” Maverick shakes his fist at Iceman. “I am dangerous.”

How to describe someone who is simultaneously dying from holding back laughter, being mentally disturbed as if you have walked in on your parents when they are having jolly sex, and somehow angry because it turns out that Ice has said these words right after Hop 1?

That’s Bradley now, thank you.

 

He waits until Goose and Mav walk out of Viper’s office.

“Hard Deck is just so stupid, you know? What’s the point?” Maverick grumbles furiously. “And that Mr. Iceman? So, fucking, annoying. ‘I don’t like you because you are dangerous’.” He recites in a comical voice. “I mean, who the heck does he think he is?”

“Why do you care so much?” Bradley just can’t stand it anymore.

Maverick stops dead in his tracks.

“What… What?? I didn’t, I don’t… ” He splutters. “Why did you say that? I care about that dickhead? Har, har, Rooster here is such a good comedian. You think so Goose?” He turns around and doesn’t look at Goose at all.

Goose narrows his eyes.

Bradley does the same thing.

 

There is still time.

Notes:

I will try my best to stick to a better posting schedule from now on.

Love and love.

Xihe

Notes:

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Series this work belongs to:

• Part 9 of Binary Stars (Like That We Shine)