bradley bradshaw x reader
summary: You were a rising star pilot who was grounded from a collision in the air that Rooster is responsible for, you haven’t seen him much since. Penny gave you a job at the Hard Deck, Bradley has never braved it until after the Uranium Mission. Now, he wants to move forward with his life and make things right.
The Hard Deck hadn’t changed. Same worn wood bar with too many stories soaked into it. Same jukebox humming in the corner, playing music now older than most of the people in the bar. The same place that was home for a lot of pilots.
You stood behind the bar like you owned the place, which according to Penny you practically did. You thrived here like controlled chaos behind the bar. It was a rhythm you were quick to master with sharp eyes, fast hands, and a flawless memory.
Pilots were easy. Always had been.
They came in loud, adrenaline still buzzing under their skin, egos puffed up from surviving another day in expensive jets. You could read them in seconds. Who needed a drink, who needed to be humbled, who needed to be cut off before they embarrassed themselves. The guys loved you for it. Or feared you. Or both.
You handled them all with the same controlled confidence that you used to have in the cockpit.
Now your feet are planted on solid ground.
You were mid-pour when the door opened and the air shifted in the room. You were too busy keeping up with the crowd that was three deep to care about who came in.
He however, saw you instantly. Your hair up in a messy way that he hadn’t often seen. A far cry from a slicked bun or the braids you had in the Navy. You still move like nothing slows you down, expertly handling the crowd.
Bradley Bradshaw did not go to the bar.
Straight for the back. There was a booth where Hangman, Phoenix, Bob, and Fanboy were wedged in with a cluster of glasses already on their table. Bradley threads through the crowd, his eyes anywhere but the bar.
You noticed anyway. Of course you did.
Your jaw tightens, but you don’t miss a beat. Still pouring drinks and ringing up another tab. You felt the sting of him being here. Of him avoiding you. On your own turf? He should really know better.
“Well, look who finally grew a pair.” Hangman spots Bradley approach first. He forces a smile on for the group and everyone scoots in so he can join in towards the end of the booth.
“Yeah, I thought you were allergic to this place.” Fanboy coughs into his drink.
“Something like that.” He grumbles.
Phoenix glances toward the bar, then back to him. “Did you see that she’s working tonight?”
You make another pass over crowd passing out drinks before you pick up a tray. You tell the other girl working that you’re gonna make a lap to grab some more glasses. You know everyone's drink order over there, you decide to bring them another round.
“That big ol’ crowd and you’re still taking care of us? I love you honey.” Hangman drawls as soon as you’re within earshot walking up to them. "We must be special or something."
You roll your eyes and plaster a sarcastic smile on.
“Hangman’s tab is still open, so this round was on him.” You smile wickedly and set down everyone’s drinks in front of them, notably skipping over one person. Your gaze shifts, he doesn’t get a second to prepare. You look through him like all the other pilots here.
“Well,” Your voice cool, “If it isn’t the ghost of bad decisions past.”
Bradley swallows, looking up to where you stand at the end of the table, “Ace.”
You smile, everyone’s heart rate picks up. They know it isn’t actually a kind one.
“Callsigns are reserved for pilots.” You remind, keeping your tone even, “I would advise coming up with another name for me. Don't worry, I’ve got plenty for you.”
Hangman bursts out a laugh, Phoenix quick to smack him on the chest. You place your drink tray on your hip, waiting. He looks older. Not in a bad way, he is still shamelessly handsome, but he looks heavier somehow. Like time has been sitting on his shoulders. His mustache is coming in thicker than when you knew him best. His eyes are still the same warm brown you remember. That hadn’t changed a bit.
“Wanted to avoid the bar?” you finish, nodding to the bar behind you, “Yeah, I noticed.”
“Don’t worry,” Your voice is dangerously sweet, “I won’t crash your little reunion. Congratulations on finally being brave enough to come in here, but it’s busy. I should head back.”
Your gaze cuts through Bradley one last time.
“Some of us have to work for a living.”
Then you were gone, swallowed back by the crowd. Barely gone a second and then you were already back behind the bar taking another order, totally unphased. Bradley finally lets out the breath he was holding since you walked up to the table.
The sky was perfect. Clear endless blue., No turbulence. Visibility forever. The kind of day the instructors loved because there were no excuses.
You flew like you always did. Fast, sharp, and instinctive. Your hands were steady on the controls, breath even and heart calm in the way it only ever was when you were airborne. Your jet flew like an extension of your body.
You had been practicing maneuvers prior to your final mission to complete training tomorrow. You guys were two days away from graduating Top Gun and getting your patches and a whole new thing to brag about. You were sure to be top of the class, everyone knew it. You and Bradley were neck and neck, but even he would admit you had him beat. You always had.
You and Bradley had been thrilled to both be invited to Top Gun together. It took a lot to get to that point. Bradley had to overcome the setback of Mav pulling his papers, but the silver lining was meeting you. You guys met in flight school and dated all throughout, then even across two different continents after being sent on two separate deployments. Then, finally back on the same continent. It was nice to finally share base housing in one place for a while. You guys both got called up to Top Gun at the same time.
“Going vertical.” He calls, already pulling up.
“Rooster, hold-” You call immediately.
It happens too quickly. He cuts across your nose. Too close, too fast. Metal clipped metal, the impact was sudden and violent. It was a jarring enough thud to send your jet sideways. A flurry of colors light your dash with warning tones ringing loudly.
It rolled hard and uncontrollably, entering a rapid spin. It became impossible for you to tell where the sky met the desert. You fought it, you tried. Your muscle memory and training taking over as you continue to spiral, the stick slack in your right hand.
“Mayday, mayday. Midair collision, loss of control.” You voice calm and professional still.
“Ace, eject.” Bradley yells over the comms, panic clear in his voice.
You yank the handle. The seat fired. The canopy blew.
The parachute deployed. You hit the desert hard.
When you woke up you were in the worst pain imaginable. It radiated everywhere. Your neck. Your spine. Your arm. A bright light sweeps over your eyes, you try to make them focus. Everything feels wrong.
“She’s conscious. Pupils reactive.”
They stabilized your spine before you ever moved. The damage came in pieces. Compression fractures at C6 and C7. A herniated disc pressing dangerously close to your spinal cord.
A traumatic brachial plexus injury to your right arm, nerve damage that left your grip weak, unreliable. Fine motor control compromised.
The tremor showed up on day three.
Subtle. Intermittent. Stress induced.
Unforgivable for a fighter pilot.
Bradley only saw you the first day when you were intubated. Once you were conscious, he was not allowed in the room. You wanted him as far away as possible. He never left the hallway. Tears still pouring down his face long after the fact. The guilt eating away at him. He’s still wearing his flight suit.
Penny stood near the window, her arms crossed tight. Maverick sat in the seat across the hall from Bradley.
“She’s alive.” Penny said softly, “That counts for something.”
Bradley’s breathing shutters, “She trusted me.”
Maverick watched him closely. Studying his every movement. He knew his kind of silence. It lived forever.
“What did the doctors say?” Mav asks.
The relationship between the two was still strained. Bradley was still mad at him, but he was thankful you had Mav and Penny while waiting for your parents to get in.
“She’ll walk eventually. She’ll function.” His voice cracks, “But she’ll never fly.”
“The neck injury alone disqualifies her,” Bradley explains, “Add the nerve damage? She won’t clear physicals. Ever.”
“Ace was a special one.” Maverick says quietly, looking at his hands in front of him rather than the boy crying in front of him.
"She still is." Penny jumps in, Mav holding up his hands to show that wasn't how he had meant it.
“She won’t see me.” Bradley whispers, “She wo-she won’t even let me apologize.”
Maverick finally stood from his seat and rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Sometimes, the hardest lesson in flying is knowing when you crossed a line you can’t uncross. It was the hardest thing I ever went through.”
Down the hall, you lay in bed. Your hand trembling faintly against the sheets. Your other hand clenched, while you look out the window at the blue sky.
Honorably discharged.
Grounded forever.
The sky was gone.
The crowd had thinned out. Not empty, never empty here, but there was definitely more room to move around now. Bradley watched you wipe down the counter now that you finally had the time.
He had put it off as long as he could.
Hangman noticed it first while grinning into his beer, “Oh, he’s thinking about it!”
Bob glances between Bradley and the bar, “Are you sure about that? You know, you don’t have to.”
“Yes, Bob. Yes, I do.” Bradley shakes his head to himself.
Phoenix snorts, “You’re an idiot.”
“Correct,” Hangman agrees, “But if you’re going to die, at least let us watch.”
Bradley stood anyway, Phoenix catching his arm before he can walk away from the group.
“Hey,” She eyes him sharply, “Be respectful.”
Bradley meets her eyes, “Always.”
She held it for a beat, then nods once.
The walk to the bar felt longer than it should have for Bradley. Every step was heavy, every single one of his instincts telling him to turn around and take cover. You don’t look up as he approaches, or even when he stops directly in front of where you’re wiping.
“What’ll it be?” You ask, trying your best to keep your voice neutral and professional.
You reach for the bottle. Your hands were steady until they weren’t. Just a flicker. A subtle tremor through your fingers as you adjust your grip on the bottle. It was small enough that anyone else would’ve missed it.
His eyes dropped to it before he could help himself. You felt it immediately.
Your jaw tightens. You finish the motion too quickly, sloppily sliding the glass over to him and shoving your hands in the back pockets of your shorts like it burned you. The cool mask you maintain cracking slightly. Just enough to let personal anger shine through for a second.
You look up to meet Bradley’s eyes and you can see it. Pity.
Bradley swallows, “I didn’t-”
“Doesn’t matter.” You cut off, “You don’t get to hang around and catalog the damage from your actions.”
The controlled tone of your voice hurts more than being yelled at. You slip that cool mask right back on like it never left.
“Ace,” he sighs, “I’m sorry.”
Your expression doesn’t flicker, you look right through him.
“Yeah, you’ve been saying that for years.”
You turn and take the order of the guy next to him. It was all gone. You straighten, all composure again. He stands there for another moment, his finger tracing the edge of his glass.
Not just what he’s taken from you. But what you are still fighting so hard to hide.
Penny finds Bradley after witnessing the conversation at the bar. He’s off the back deck facing the water. It’s quieter out here.
“Hey, I’ve got some advice for you.” Penny calls, causing him to turn.
Penny doesn’t have to explain who. He should know.
“I never tried to sway you with Mav at all, that was your business to deal with. But I will not let you tear into that girl's life. She has done a remarkable job adjusting her life.”
“I never said she hasn’t-”
“She lost her whole life with that accident. She didn’t die, but a huge part of her did. And then she lost you with it. None of that was easy.” Penny crosses her arms over her chest.
He looks up to meet her stern gaze, “I’m not trying to hurt her. I only want to apologize.”
“Then apologize and leave her alone. Think about it from her point of view. Mav grounded you for four years. You just let go of the grudge that kept you grounded for four years. You grounded her for the rest of her life.”
Bradley hangs his head in shame. He doesn’t need to be reminded of this. He is all too aware of the circumstances.
“She’s bigger than flying to me.” He admits, “If I could give up flying for her, I would do it in a second.”
Closing the Hard Deck was always eerie after a night of work. Suddenly so quiet and empty. The chairs were up. The music was off. The last of the loud laughter had drained out of the room. You hand dry a few glasses before putting them back where they belong.
You had heard that Bradley was back in the area. The rest of the Dagger Squad had loose lips and frequently spent their nights sitting at your bar. Weeks passed, and he stayed away. Avoided the bar. Avoided you.
You let yourself believe that he never would show.
The tremor came back as soon as the last patron walked out the front door.
You set down the glass before it could slip, pressing your palm flat on the counter until the shaking eased. You slowed down your breaths like you had been taught. It worked. Mostly.
Penny locked up the office and paused by the door, watching you. Not asking. Just hovering. Checking.
“I’m good.” You said before she could even speak.
Penny nodded and she didn’t push. She thanked you for your hard work and asked you to lock the doors on your way out.
Home was quiet in a way that was different from the Hard Deck.
You showered as soon as you got home, wanting to scrub the night off your skin. You stayed in until the water ran cold. Your mind is still reeling on how Bradley had watched you. Of course he had noticed.
You find an old T-shirt and shorts to change into and collapse onto the couch, leftovers from yesterday reheated onto a plate sitting on the coffee table. Your phone buzzes.
You stare at the screen for a long time before answering. Debating what to say. What she would actually believe.
The three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
You laugh while rolling your eyes. You get a couple bites into your food before her next text comes through.
Phoenix
It was a lot. Seems like he cornered you at the bar.
Ace
He ordered a drink. I survived.
Phoenix
You don’t have to be so tough with me. I know that was a big deal.
Now it was your turn to type, erase, then type again.
Ace
Seeing him sucked. I assumed he was cowardly enough to avoid the deck forever.
Phoenix
I kind of hoped he would.
You smile faintly at that.
Phoenix
We’re having a beach day tomorrow. You’re invited. No pressure.
The idea of a beach day felt exhausting after a day like today. Would Bradley be there? Is that just a given now that he was around last night?
Ace
I work.
Phoenix
Figures. Well, we’ll be set up at the south end right in front of the Hard Deck so come say hi if you feel like it!
Ace.
I’ll think about it.
You set the phone back down. Taking a deep breath, you continue to eat, putting something on TV. Your phone starts vibrating again suddenly.
“Oh my god, Phoenix.” You groan, snatching it off the coffee table. You turn your phone over to see Bradley’s name flashing across the screen instead. You nearly drop your fork. You decline the call before you can think of anything else.
Why the hell would he try to call?
The next morning you had already decided you would not be going to the beach. The thought of dealing with all that sun and the potential of being stuck with Rooster made your decision easy. You did decide to head in a little early to at least see the crew and say hi before work. On your own terms before disappearing into the bar.
You step out of your car and spot the back of Phoenix’s head. She and Bob set a volleyball back and forth to each other.
“Hey.” You call out as you approach. You quick kick off your shoes and step into the sand where they’re playing.
“Hey!” Phoenix grins, “You missed a good game of dogfight football. Hangman ate shit. Twice.”
A wide smile breaks out across your face.
“Now that I would have liked to see.”
You turn, eyes scanning for the rest of the group. At first, you see the girls. Young. Tiny bikinis. Laughing loudly.
“Unlike that.” You clear your throat.
Bradley, Hangman, and Coyote right in the center of it. Bradley is leaning the passenger door to the Bronco like he owned the damn lot. One of the girls has her sandy feet up on the dash, his arm lazily resting on the frame.
“The hell is he doing.” You mutter.
“Rooster has been heavy with the drinks today.” Bob explains, “I’ve never seen him like this.”
Your fists clench at your side, you take a few slow steps towards the rest of the group. Phoenix and Bob are quick to drop the ball and follow and watch this unfold.
“Well, look who decided to show up,” Bradley slurs, “Were you missin' me, Ace?”
“Not at all.” You cross your arms over your chest. He can barely stand up straight, it’s now clear he’s leaning on the door frame to be close with the girl and for the physical support.
“There’s no screen on this thing? Lame.” The girl comments, her feet leaving more marks all over the dash. Sandy dirty feet sliding across the glass and leaving fallout everywhere.
Even in his drunken state, Bradley winces. This car is a piece of art.
“Get her fucking feet off the dash.” You spit out before spinning on your heel, easily spinning on the gravel as you stomp to the back door of the bar, “Have some fucking respect for yourself and your dad since it’s obvious I won’t be getting any.”
Bradley was delayed in his reaction, taking slow graceless steps trying to follow. He says your name on repeat, not getting any faster. You slam the door harder than it should be possible, and that tells him he should try again with you in a little bit.
You threw yourself into restocking the bar to prepare yourself for the night you have ahead. Another busy summer night. You stack glasses, wiping down bottles when the door flies open.
“Not open for another hour.” You call, not even picking up your head in their direction.
“Uh.” Bradley coughs, clearing his throat. Your head snaps up to him. He looks like he’s in rough shape.
You can tell he’s still hammered. Sunburnt beyond belief. His entire body is glowing red. He stumbles up to the bar, fumbling and fighting to stay upright.
“You’re really not good at this.” Concern in your eyes, while you grab a glass and fill it with water. Penny would kill you if you let him kick the bucket right here on the Hard Deck floor.
“I-I know.” He admits, his head hanging down towards the floor, leaning on the bar stool more than himself, “I-I always mess up with you. Every damn time.”
“Drink.” You set the glass down on the counter in front of where he stands. If you can call it standing.
He took it like a lifeline, using both hands to bring it to his lips. The alcohol making him clumsy and eager as water drips from the sides of his mouth.
“Sit down before you pass out.” You instruct, filling the glass now that he’s drained it.
It takes some effort, but he sits down on the stool.
“You’re … kinder than I deserve.” He takes another careful sip.
“You’re saying I should let you kill yourself out in the sun after all that booze?” You raise your brows.
Your shoulders ease a fraction. Your jaw is still tense, but you can’t feel it over your whole body anymore.
“Plus, you’re too drunk to remember any of this anyway.”
“Nuh uh-” He cuts himself off with an obnoxious hiccup, "I'm never gonna forget the nasty look you gave me."
"You deserved it." You roll your eyes, "Just being on the same side as Hangman proves you're in the wrong."
He continues to groan, laying his head down flat on the bar.
“You’re a mess.” You laugh humorlessly, “I’m calling Phoenix, she’s dragging you out of here.”
You step to the back counter to grab your phone.
“No, wait!” He groans looking up suddenly, “Just a few more minutes.”
You look up at him, the defeated look on his face. His eyes are glossed over, but they watch you. The same look in his eyes he’s always had. Full of want. Full of care.
Your voice is softer than Bradley has heard it in years. You go back to wiping bottles and just let him sit there. It’s quiet in here, the only voice is the soft tap of a bottle when you set it back down. He knows you're letting him look at you. Giving you a couple more minutes of peace like this is normal.
For those minutes it feels normal. He was not the proud pilot who ruined you. He was a drunk defenseless man that you used to love at one time. He was the man you saw your whole future with.
And even with how pissed you still felt towards him, it felt easier to breathe around him. At least a little lighter.
A few days later, the Hard Deck buzzed with its normal chaos. You were back behind the bar, moving through orders. The door swung open and in walked the dagger squad. Bradley at the center, looking sober. For now.
“There she is!” Hangman cheers loudly, causing you to look up in their direction.
Bradley watches the smile grow on your face at the recognition, he sees it falter when you spot him while scanning over the group.
He tried calling twice since the beach day where he got way too drunk. You declined both calls. Phoenix was kind enough to fill him on the details that were a little fuzzy. Bradley hasn’t drank like that in years. He’s sure it’s because he knew it was a possibility that you would be coming. Then when you obviously weren’t coming, he let the drinks keep him distracted. And the girls, thanks to Hangman.
“If you’re here looking for your friends from a few days ago, I’m afraid I had to turn them away. You have to be 21 to drink here.” He knows you’re teasing, but still it makes his stomach flip with embarrassment.
Bradley’s head hangs in shame. Hangman smirks proudly.
“Somebody sounds jealous.” Hangman singsongs, “Don’t worry, I’m still all yours.”
He leans across the counter to press a kiss to your cheek. You shove him off with an eye roll, deliberately ignoring them and taking other orders. Hangman has always been Hangman.
You eventually circle back and get them their drinks. Bradley waits until everyone moves to find a table, he lingers and tells them he’ll catch up.
“I-uh” He starts, “I wanted to say I’m sorry. For the other day. For being such a mess.”
You raise a brow, “Yeah, you were… memorable.”
“I mean it.” He continues, he gulps, “I’m sorry for a lot of things. I’m always sorry when it comes to you.”
You let it sit for a moment. The lively bar still moving around you both.
“Also, I don’t know if you even care, but she didn’t drive the Bronco.” He clears his throat. His cheeks dust pink, his eyes avoiding yours for a second, “You’re still the only one… I’ve-uh.. I’ve never let any other girl drive it.”
You smirk, rolling your eyes.
“I’m shocked, not sure I believe you.”
“I’m serious.” He smiles, “I’ve never trusted anyone else.”
“Good to know you still have some standards.” Your voice is lacking real anger, replaced with your normal sarcasm you treat everyone with.
He laughs softly, “Yeah.. some things.”
“Well, good for you Bradley Bradshaw.”
You spin away to take another order before he can question the use of his full name. He doesn’t get how you can be so in these moments with him, and the next it’s gone. The walls you’ve built are tall. The guard is strong.
It takes a few more hours to get through the rush before Penny cuts you for the night. You opened, so thankfully this isn’t a Friday that you’re stuck closing. You say goodbye to everyone still working, grabbing your purse and heading for the door.
“You can’t be leaving!” Phoenix yells before you can get out of sight. You stop in your tracks and hesitate to turn around.
“Yeah, you can’t leave without a drink!” Hangman says, grinning.
“Or three!”
Phoenix crosses her arms, “Seriously, you’ve earned one after dealing with us all week!”
“I deal with you guys all the time!” You groan.
“Exactly! We owe you a couple drinks.” Payback chimes in.
“Yeah, don’t be a buzzkill.” Bob shells another peanut, you cut him a slow look.
“Fine!” You throw your purse down on their table and shed your jacket, “-but I’m not paying for a thing!”
“I’ve got the first round.” Bradley’s voice is soft, and he turns to head to the bar without a word. Without even asking what drink.
“I’m getting us in on the pool table!” Hangman leaps over them at the table to get in next. You rarely stay late with them, or have the time to fuck around, but you are one of the few people who has beat Hangman within these walls.
For the first time in days, you let yourself relax a little. The past isn’t gone, but right here and now you were in total control.
You did not have to pay for any of your drinks. They were all bribes to convince you to stay later. Bribes which you accepted. You had started the night skilled and sharp, but they had completely derailed that.
By the time it was getting close to closing, you were laughing louder than you had in years. Beating Hangman at pool again came with a buzz stronger than any liquor.
“Okay, okay,” He groans, “-you’re lucky I was distracted!”
“Distracted by your terrible aim.” You grin, chalking your cue with flair, “And the fact that I am clearly better than you.”
Phoenix rolls her eyes but laughs, “She’s drunk and still kicking our asses.”
“Exactly!” You finish your drink, “Which is why I am asking Penny for a ride home.”
You blow on the end of your cue like it just fired off ammo causing Bob to laugh. You trip over your feet, once, on your way up to the bar. Bradley is paying his tab closing out for the night.
“Penny, can you bring me home?” You whine, suddenly leaning against the bar, “I can clean… something..?”
You look around the bar with an obvious disdain at the idea of having to clean anything right now. Penny rolls her eyes looking at you, she can see that you’ll be feeling this tomorrow.
“How about Rooster here?” Penny asks.
Even in your drunken state, your spine straightens suddenly.
“Well, I’m gonna be here for at least another hour. I need to do payroll. He’s only had two beers all night.”
Bradley can see the look of betrayal on your face, jaw slack. "Wha-"
“I don’t mind.” He offers.
You turn towards him, “Yes you do mind.”
“You needed a ride home, here you go!” Penny hauls away a tray of dirty glasses.
“Seriously, it isn’t a big deal.” His deep brown eyes look down at you. You don’t trust yourself look back. You no longer have total control.
“Have you hosed it out since the last slut that was in there?” The words leave your mouth without brakes.
Bradley winces as if you physically struck him.
“C’mon. Let me give you a ride home.” He insists.
You hum in contemplation, turning to look over the rest of the group for options. Everyone else is several drinks in and will be needing their own rides.
“C’mon, Y/n.” His voice like butter, “It’s the least I can do.”
The Bronco felt exactly the same.
The door had the same familiar creak when Bradley pulled it open for you. The leather is worn soft and smooth from years of careful hands. Summer drives. Late nights. It holds thousands of memories.
Your chest tightens before you can stop it while he makes it around to his side. The engine roars to life and you look over the dash. He has cleaned it since the beach day.
Headlights cut through the dark while you give directions to your place. It isn’t far from the beach. You lean back against the seat, the windows are down letting fresh air in.
“You know,” Bradley dares to break the silence, “I think about that day a lot. The crash. Everything after.”
You tilt your head toward the window, “Yeah?”
You don’t give him a view of your face.
“I-I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve always felt guilty-”
“Next left turn.” You interrupt.
“I think about it constantly, it plays in my head like a loop. I am so sorry-
“and you’re apologizing again.”
“and you’re missing my turn.”
He slams on the brakes suddenly. Coming to a complete stop, nearly giving you whiplash in the process.
“Jesus.” You wince, clutching where the seatbelt is across your chest. You're exaggerating, but he’s driving crazy.
“God, Y/n,” He sighs, your eyes snap up to him at his scared tone, “Seeing you free fall like that. Seeing you hit the earth like that? It was the worst thing I have ever seen. I felt like I was Maverick. I had just done what he did to Dad.”
Tears pour down his face, his admission bringing so many emotions to the surface.
“I am just so sorry, if I could change it-if I could switch us-”
“Bradley.” You cut him off, “Enough.”
You let the silence hang in the car for a minute. He needs to catch his breath and you need to try and sober up. You sit up in your seat, heavy in thought.
“We are never going to be able to change what happened that day. There’s no point in replaying it, it happened and we have to move forward.”
He nods, but you can tell he really doesn’t take it to heart. You cautiously place your hand on top of his. His face reveals he is surprised by the action.
“....I also tried to save it.” You remind, “If I had never tried, if I had ejected immediately, maybe I would still be flying. We will never know Bradley. You can't play the 'what if' game for the rest of your life.”
You shrug, a sad smile gracing your face. “I survived. You survived. That’s a lot better ending than a lot of pilots get.”
Bradley nods as someone who truly does understand the truth of that.
“What if I don’t want that to be the end of our story?”
“Bradley-” You pull your hand back away from his.
“I’m serious! We’re both here, and I have never stopped loving you. I loved you even when I didn’t love myself.” He admits, “It’s always you on my mind.”
"I think we should just work on trying to be friends. It’s been a long night.” You look down, “Can you just take me home?”
He opens his mouth to say something, but stops himself. He nods, and begins driving the car again. He circles back to the turn he missed. The rest of the ride is quiet aside from your soft direction, until he made it to your little townhouse.
He’s quick to get your door and walk you up the sidewalk. He watches as you fish around in your purse for your keys. You let out a ‘tada’ when you find them.
“You’re still going to have to work hard to impress me.”
He chuckles, a little sheepish and a little relieved, “I’ve been trying since I first met you, and I don’t think I’m capable of stopping.”
“Good.” You turn the key in your door, “Don’t get comfortable.”
“Noted.” He laughs, “In return, can you do me a small favor?”
“Hmm.” You sigh, “Maybe?”
“Let the phone ring. Just let it ring a little longer?”
“You don’t have to answer me when I call, not yet. I will still earn that back. But, can you just give me those extra seconds to ring? Don’t end it on me. Please.”
“Let it ring forever, I don’t care. I’ll take that hope. Waiting on you to answer? I’ll do it forever.”
His eyes are closed, pain across his face. His hands are holding tightly onto yours. Your heart is racing at his tight hold.
“Bradley.” Your voice a whisper.
A long pause follows after that. Both of you are breathing heavily.
“I can let it ring, Bradley.” You murmur, it’s like a prayer to Bradley’s ears. His eyes open and lets out a soft ‘thank you’. He looks down and lets down his hold on your hands, he clears his throat and takes a step back.
You shut the door quickly.
The Bronco still smelled the same.
And for the first time in a long while, so did hope.
The next morning you woke up with the kind of headache that pulsed behind your eyes. The car ride felt like a distant memory that you had to play over and over a few times to really sink in. You had let yourself be more open to him than you had with anyone in years. You said too much. Bradley said too much.
You didn’t regret any of it.
Weeks passed and Bradley started coming back to the Hard Deck like he used to before the accident. At first the interactions were still clipped and short. You treated him with the same sarcasm and slight distaste as you would Hangman. Slowly, things shifted.
He stopped avoiding the bar.
You stopped wincing when he walked in the door.
The tension between you two felt less charged with anger. Phoenix noticed immediately. Watching her two friends that two months ago she would’ve bet you had him in a chokehold, now you two were laughing while he got a drink.
Your guard was still up. He strictly saw you when you were behind the bar or in a group setting. But. You would flirt back every so often, catching him off guard. You are letting him earn every inch back.
He never pushed for it. He showed up. He stayed respectful.
Slow. Careful. Earned.
Bradley started to lean against the bar like belonged there. Most of the night. Glued to that spot. Always stealing glances, trying to talk as much as possible while you’re trying to serve everyone. Your banter stayed sharp, teasing inside jokes that hadn't been told in years.
It was a Sunday afternoon, the Hard Deck was slow as hell due to the lack of TVs. The Dagger Squad wraps themselves around the stools of the bar. A couple other people sit at a table in the corner.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Hangman scoffs, shaking his head.
You turn your attention away from what Bradley had been saying. Your smile fading.
“The two of you flirt like you’re already married.”
You don’t even bat an eye, “Bold of you to assume I would ever marry a pilot.”
“Ace.” Phoenix warns, “Seriously, what’s going on with you guys?”
You can tell by the look on her face that they had just been talking about the two of you in front of you... But you were too distracted talking to each other.
“What?” You laugh, “We’re friends! Would you rather I go back to yelling all the time?”
Phoenix's face tells you she doesn’t believe a word of it. You look to Bradley for help, but his eyes are only on you. With the look on his face, he’s already losing that argument.
Bob nods, “Statistically speaking, unresolved emotional tension like this usually ends in either sex or-”
“Bob, finish that sentence and you’ll get your first ever bell ring!” You step closer to ring it, he pipes down quickly.
“Friends are not nothing.” Phoenix’s expression is steady.
"Or what, Bob?" Fanboy questions.
“Yeah, they’re definitely banging,” Hangman throws back the rest of his drink, “Just wait for Bradshaw to slip up. He’ll crack first.”
The group breaks out in laughter, you crack his shoulder with your bar towel.
The next day you’re at the park for your day off, enjoying the California sun. You pull your phone from your pocket feeling it vibrate.
Turning over the screen to see a blocked number your blood runs cold.
“Y/n.” You answer immediately.
There was a pause, “Is this Lieutenant Y/LN?”
“Yes.” Your reply is instinctual. You haven’t been addressed as that in a long time.
“Ma’am you are listed as Lieutenant Bradshaw’s emergency contact.”
The world narrowed to just you and the phone pressed tight to your ear.
“He’s alive,” She adds quicker than it feels, “He’s been injured during a training exercise. He’s stable and should be waking up soon. We recommend you come to base.”
You don’t remember hanging up the phone. Or running faster than you’ve needed to in years back to your house to your car. You remember driving too fast, your hand shaking on the wheel. Every ugly possibility running through your mind.
You burst into the medical wing, breathless. Maverick was already outside his room in the hall.
“He’s okay,” Mav reassures gently, “I promise.”
You let out a breath you’ve been holding.
Maverick ushers you straight into the room. Bradley is propped up in the bed, one arm in a sling. His face is bruised and stitched and very much alive.
His eyes slowly pull open, your knees nearly give out. Maverick pulls the door shut, giving you both some privacy.
“You scared the hell outta me.” You swallow, choking back a sob. Your eyes are betraying you, letting tears slide down your face.
“I’m sorry.” He apologizes immediately, “You're here? I didn’t even tell-”
“I’m still your emergency contact.” You wipe at your face, taking a hesitant seat on the edge of his bed. Your hands trembling as they try to stop the obvious stream.
He chuckles, using his good arm to pull you up closer. Part of your weight on his lap now.
“Bradley, be careful.” You try to ease back, but his hold on your arm with his good one is unrelenting.
“It doesn’t matter.” He smiles, “Keep talking.”
"I'm fine. Please keep talking."
You stare at each other, the fear and adrenaline still running through both of you. You’re both also very aware of the last time you were in a hospital at the same time.
“I thought I lost you,” Your voice breaking, “I can’t-Bradley, I can’t do that. The drive over here? That was terrible I-”
He squeezes your hand, eyes wet and unguarded, “I love you. I never stopped. Never for a second.”
Your breath hitches. The room falls to total silence while you let him continue.
“I’ll never be able to change our story or what has happened, but I can change our future. I love more than anything.”
“God, I hate you,” You whisper, leaning your forehead against his, “But I still love you too.”
He smiles and leans in to connect your lips. You lean in more, giving your all to him. It's been years since you’ve felt his warm lips. It feels better than you remember. You let your teeth graze over his bottom lip, he lets out a soft ‘ow’.
“Sorry!” You pull away, his already split lip slipping your mind, “You’re going to have to heal quick for what I have in mind.”
“Actually, you’re gonna take it slow.” You tease, “With me and with healing?”
“I’ll spend the rest of my life taking it slow with you.” His smile is soft and hopeful.
“I like the sound of that.”
The sky had taken enough from you.
You won’t let it take him too.
just whipped up this lil cutie! lmk what you guys think!
