I'MA TELL THE WORLD THAT YOU'RE MINE, MINE, MINE! / BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW
SUMMARY Maverick gets a taste of the past when he sees you with Rooster.
WORD COUNT 3.5k
WARNINGS/TROPES Fem!Kazansky!Reader, childhood friends, ambiguous relationships (in the sense I never actually define if this is the first time they've kissed or a regular thing), references to the first Top Gun movie, no use of Y/N, pet names (sweetheart, baby, ma'am), PDA, uncle mav!! set during that first hard deck scene in TGM, in which hangman unknowingly digs himself a bigger hole with mav
AUTHOR'S NOTE wow, a non-hockey + reader-insert fic for once! not sure if this'll be a recurring thing, but i'm giving y'all a taste of my AO3 :)
Gold spilled through the windows, glinting against the ceiling-hung model airplanes and sweating beer bottles scattered throughout the Hard Deck. Most chairs lay unoccupied, and the wooden planks creaking beneath your feet were still visible past the sparse early evening crowd.
You were reveling in the calm before the storm.
Each time the front door gave way to a sudden rush of wind, you glanced up, observing, picking apart. There was the civilian, whose wide eyes flickered like he'd stumbled into a place twenty miles from where he was actually meant to be. Then came the couple—definitely military—who sidled up to the counter and rattled drinks off like a maintenance checklist, like they couldn't quite shake off work.
The worst ones were the slim-bodied, khaki-clad aviators, who sauntered in with the confidence of a vain peacock, laughter as vibrant as the attention-grabbing feathers adorned in deep blues and verdant greens.
Hangman leaned against the counter with that perfectly, frustratingly charming grin of his. Your name rolled off his tongue, laced with shallow affection. A light-hearted flirt fest was all. "How've you been, sweetheart?"
"You're a few hours from Lemoore," you said. "Both of you."
The corners of Coyote's lips flipped up. "Missed us?"
"Terribly." Sarcasm dripped from your tone. "What can I get you tonight?"
Amber beer bottles scraped against the counter. Hangman winked as he threw a few dollar bills down—a hefty tip, as always—and you blew a meaningless kiss in the air that sent him and Coyote away.
"Your dad know you're flirting with his men?"
You turned slowly in hopes that you could rein in the widening stretch of your mouth in time, but a full-blown beam glimmered beneath the dim bar lights as you met the familiar raised eyebrows and knowing green eyes that had watched you—and seen past your innocent eyelash batting—through nearly every stage of life.
"I was wondering how long it'd take before you showed up here," you said, cheeks flushed with remnants of a passing youth. You rounded the bartop, two strides becoming one, feet light like the floor was made of springs.
Maverick barely twisted in his seat in time for your embrace, his shoulder digging into your sternum as you flung your arms around his neck. He shifted, winding his grasp around your ribs, unable to hide his smile as your sweet laughter echoed in his ears like a bright sunny day. "Hi, kid."
"Hi, Mav. It's been a while. I missed you."
"How'd you know I'd be around?"
You were behind the bar again. "All this time, and you're still asking."
Maverick's lips thinned. Of course. "How is he?"
A sharp breath inflated your chest, your gaze falling to the lemons yet to be cut. You picked up the knife. "I don't feel like crying on the job today," you said with a slight tremble. You made one slice before putting the knife back down and forcing your chin up. "You should go see him while you're here. I'm sure he'd appreciate it after all the strings he's pulled for you."
"You're making digs at me now?"
"Only fair for all the teasing you've put me through as a kid." Your gaze slid to the door as it swung open. Just another group of civilians. "Look," you propped your forearms on the counter, "I'm not supposed to know anything about this, but you know my dad has never been able to keep things from me, especially not about..." You paused when Maverick's expression wavered, then cast a glance over your shoulder, toward Hangman and Coyote by the dartboard—the only kind of people you'd come to know throughout your life. "I know Bradley got called back here. Are you ready to see him?"
Are you? came close to slipping out of Maverick's mouth—a quick rebuttal he'd slammed down with teeth grinding together, just short of painful. The sting eventually shot through his jaw when he noticed the threaded bracelet looped around your wrist, weathered and stained as time frayed the edges. You and Bradley had matching ones. He remembered that. He was there when you made them.
And the shirt you were wearing—a deep blue with the University of Virginia insignia printed in the middle—was loose around the collar, nearly sliding down your shoulder, sleeves scraping past your elbows. It was almost comically oversized. If he had to guess, he'd say it was Bradley's, somehow in your possession over the years—years he'd lost with him, but years you hadn't.
Those aviators, too, roosted atop your head, clearly forgotten to take off before the start of your shift, looked an awful lot like the ones he'd gotten Bradley as a teenager. You must have been the recipient of them after their relationship had plummeted into the seventh circle of Hell.
Money not wasted, he supposed.
But his question would've been a stupid one to ask.
You were nearly doused in Bradley Bradshaw, and instead of the tumultuous ball of dread cradled in his stomach, your heart was probably jumping for joy at the very thought of seeing him again.
Something in his chest clenched as the mission loomed over his head. You. He had to think of you, too. He couldn't afford to blow this.
"Get back to work," he finally said.
Your gaze flitted over his face—steely, calculating, like you were dissecting every thought that passed through his brain, paired with a cocky edge that pushed your head atilt, obnoxiously chomping on the stale piece of gum in your mouth. God, you were every bit Iceman's kid when you did that.
Maverick wasn't sure if he found comfort in that.
"Fine," you relented. "We'll do it your way, Uncle Pete." You pushed away from the counter. "But you owe me dinner."
You returned your attention to your job, mentally preparing for the moment this bar would be turned upside down and inside out as the clock struck closer to midnight. The limes and lemons were cut into wedges, and you'd wiped down the counter more times than truly necessary, and really, you should be switching out the kegs, but Maverick looked pathetically lonely as he nursed a pint, and you'd run your luck—and a keg—dry the last time you tried to do it, so you remained at your station and hoped someone else would do it for you.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Penny froze, a crate of freshly washed glasses and schooners perched on her hip. "You know about this?"
You bit back a grin, innocently shrugging. You could feel Maverick's disbelief burning into the rear of your head as you attended to a new patron. Then another. And another. Until the bell clamored beside you, a jingle that coaxed cheers from everyone but the reason behind it.
"Tough night, Mav," you said over your shoulder, but your amusement trailed off when Hangman's voice ricocheted like a jet engine.
"What do we have here?"
With Payback and Fanboy flanked behind her, Phoenix strolled through the front door—just three. Your stare lingered on the closing gap as the door thudded against the frame, trying to keep the small puff of dejection from blowing against the bottle of vodka in your hand.
He'd be here soon enough.
Hangman eventually found his way back to the bar. "Penny, my dear."
"Yeah?"
"I'll have four more on the old-timer."
Your lips slanted. The slight tilt of Maverick's head was meant to snuff out your impending rib-aching, tear-filled laughter, but your smirk only deepened. "You gonna be able to buy me dinner after this, old man?"
"You're trouble," said Maverick. His gaze darted to Penny, long enough for you to understand that he had meant more than just the fun you were poking at.
All you responded with was a wink.
Hangman beckoned you over with his fingers. He leaned down, his voice a quiet hum against the ruckus flowering around you. "I'm not one to judge, but he's a little older than your usual target, ain't he?"
You ducked your head, hiding the way your face twisted in all the wrong ways and swallowing down the retch shooting up your throat, before the coquettish mask returned. "My usual target's not here."
"Will he be?"
"I don't believe I'm at liberty to tell you, Hangman."
His eyes crinkled. "Well, if you're looking for a new one," he said, "you know where to find me."
You snorted.
"Bradshaw!"
Your head whipped toward the door.
Amidst the throng of people pouring into the Hard Deck, you spotted the familiar sunkissed skin swathed in a loose, unbuttoned shirt, jeans mapping out the creases in his muscles, and those sunglasses you'd talked him into buying one day. Your mouth had tipped up in a smile before you even realized.
Hangman sighed. "And there goes my chance."
"Like you ever had one." Penny slid in beside you, putting down four beers in front of Hangman.
"I'll let him know you're here."
Your gaze followed Bradley as he bounded past the bar and toward the pool tables, joining the growing group of aviators. "No, you won't."
Hangman flashed another one of his charming smiles. "Much appreciated, Pops. Hey, sweetheart, what song are you feeling? I was thinkin' Slow Ride." He scrunched his nose when you fixed him with a dry and hardened stare. "Offer's still on the table."
"Keep dreaming, Seresin!" you exclaimed to his back.
Maverick handed his card to Penny to close his tab. His gaze was heavy on you, tracking the way your giddy grin faltered as a new song danced into the air. Hangman's laughter was a beacon within the crowd, as though he knew you were rolling your eyes at him. You hadn't even followed through when you drifted to Bradley again, like a compass needle always finding true north.
Yeah, his qualms with this mission went beyond him and Bradley. He definitely needed to think of you.
"Why'd you pull his papers, Mav?" you asked softly, a quiet hum that was nearly lost in the flood of commotion warming the room up. It felt misplaced for a place like this. But you asked anyway.
"He wasn't ready."
You slipped a lemon wedge against a glass. "Neither was I, and you and my dad hadn't made a sound when I put my application in. I think that only pissed him off some more."
"You weren't going in to be a pilot."
"Bullshit, and you know it. If my eyes hadn't shit the bed, I'd be in that cockpit." You handed the drink off to a waiting sailor. "I know it's different—you and him, you and I—but at the end of the day, he still made it here. Was it really worth losing him over it?"
The muscles in Maverick's jaw ticked. He shook the distant fog in his eyes away. "Do you always have heart-to-hearts with your customers?"
"Only the ones I grew up with."
Penny put Maverick's card down on the counter. "It's been declined."
Disbelief warped his face. "You're kidding."
Penny didn't pull her attention from him as she told you, "Why don't you take your fifteen?"
You didn't stick around. You didn't want to. You'd seen Penny and Maverick dance around each other for as long as you could remember, spanning since before you were born. Whatever unresolved tension hung between them was something you did not want to be trapped in the midst of.
Hangman wooed. "I knew you couldn't resist, sweetheart."
But his words fell on deaf ears as your hand glided up Bradley's arm and across the expanse of his back. His skin didn't twitch, and there wasn't a flicker of surprise in Bradley's eyes—not at the sudden warmth encasing the scars littered on his neck that traced the path of your touch, not at the brush of your thumb against the hairs on the back of his head, not at the comforting press of your body against his, not at the weight of your stare that seemed to settle his entire soul.
No, of course not. He would know you even if his memory were wiped.
Bradley snaked his arm around your waist, meeting your eyes with a face-splitting grin. A sweet mix of seasalt, wood, and sweat encircled you as his body draped over yours, the tautness in your shoulders dissipating with a slow exhale that would make the next few hours of fulfilling drink orders worth it. You weren't sure if the shivers prickling your skin were from the ticklish brush of his mustache or the gentle kiss on the curve of your neck.
"Watch the hand, Bradshaw," you warned when his palm ventured low over the curve of your spine, skimming the top of your jeans. His chest trembled with laughter, and yours followed as you pulled away—a sound so attuned to his, a familiar beat you'd grown up with, one your heart had learned to mimic. "Hiya, you big stud."
"You look good," he said, kissing the side of your head. "Always do."
A satisfied hum rippled in your throat. You remained nestled against Bradley, but turned to Hangman with a sugary sweet smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, Seresin. Did you say something?"
Hangman rolled his eyes as laughter erupted around you.
Bradley's lips grazed the shell of your ear, breath warm. "Unplug the jukebox and meet me at the piano?"
"I was getting sick of this song anyway." You slipped from Bradley's grasp, even as his arm seemed to contradict his words and tightened around you.
Groans weaved between patrons as you yanked the plug from the outlet, slicing through the song that Hangman had selected.
Bradley held his hand over his shoulder, waiting patiently to feel yours slide against his before pulling you onto his lap. "How long do I have you for?"
"One song," you said, taking his folded sunglasses from the collar of his white vest and resting them back on the bridge of his nose. "Make it a good one, hot stuff."
"Yes, ma'am." His fingers dexterously tapped along the black and ivory keys of the wooden upright piano, quelling the complaints around them.
Something warm wrapped around you, memories infiltrating your mind of late summer nights in high school, and endless karaoke nights he'd back you up with, and ballads after your first heartbreak, and thunderous thrumming that kept the party alive, and relaxing Saturday mornings as the waves crashed into the nearby shore, and stories you'd heard from your dad and Maverick over the years, and behind each one, you could hear Bradley pressing one key after another.
There was nothing quite like it.
The bell rang again as a distant echo in your head. You managed to catch the moment Hangman, Payback, and Coyote carried Maverick out of the bar by his limbs. Overboard. Briefly, your eyes connected over Bradley's shoulder, and you picked out the subtle shift in his expression, like he, too, was caught in a memory. A very different one.
Then, he was gone in a blink of an eye.
Maverick left your mind just as quickly as he'd gone as the first few notes of Great Balls of Fire played out. Bradley had told you about the fading recollection he had of him perched on a piano while his dad belted out the song. He also spent hours teaching you to play it. You were sure Carole would've been sick of the song by the time you'd figured it out if it didn't remind her so much of Goose.
"You shake my nerves, and you rattle my brains," Bradley started strongly, his voice rasping with charisma. His mouth was hot against your ear. "Too much love drives a man insane!"
Laughter shook your chest as you joined in, your head bobbing to the rhythm. You didn't care for the way his body jostled, or his head bumped against the back of your shoulder as he damn near shouted the lyrics for everyone to hear.
It was fun. Being with Bradley was always fun.
Whether it was doing fifty push-ups in the kitchen together because your dad thought he was standing too close to you, or helping you with the infinite mountain of paperwork you needed to fill out during your tenure in the Navy, or grocery shopping with his mom before she passed—all of it was a zing of adrenaline and a rush of dopamine when it was with him.
You were out of breath by the time the song ended, throat scratched raw from belting out the familiar song. Ecstasy leaked into your exhale, trembling yet light, and your lips remained pinned up as Bradley squeezed your waist, his arm winding around securely, a comfortable heat seeping past the fabric of your shirt.
It took everything in you to peel away from his grasp.
"What time are you off?" he asked.
"You've got an early morning," you said. "Don't do it to yourself."
Bradley twisted around as you disappeared through the sea of people. "But I want to!"
The rest of the night had stretched long and strenuously, incessantly churning out drink orders, wiping down sticky counterspace, and restocking bottles. By the time the last drunk-to-high-heaven person had ushered themselves out, you were ready to collapse behind the bar and call it a night.
Penny had to pull you off a stool before your eyes fluttered shut until daybreak.
Hauling your bag over your shoulder, you shouted goodnight to her on your way out. The chilly coastal breeze beyond the front door did enough to revive what little energy you had left, bones chattering beneath your pebbled skin.
A startled gasp cut past your lips when you found Bradley leaning against your car, sunglasses askew on his nose and one sleeve of his loose, unbuttoned shirt sliding down his arm. Somehow, he still looked more put together than you. "I thought you left with the rest of 'em."
His head snapped up, a slow grin stretching across his face. "You wouldn't tell me what time you got off, so I waited."
"And now you need someone else to get you home," you said, recounting the drinks you'd served him (and cut him off from for his own benefit).
Bradley dug his keys out of his pocket, the matching bracelet you had with him hanging off the keychain that glinted beneath the exterior lights of the Hard Deck, and handed them to you for safekeeping. "Yes, ma'am." He watched you haphazardly stuff your things into the backseat of your car. "D'you know why we got called back?"
A teasing spark shined in your eyes. "Should've known you just wanted to use me."
Something akin to a wounded noise escaped Bradley. "Baby, no." His hands clumsily cradled your jaw. "I would never."
"What about the time you tried to make Vanessa Torres jealous?" You pushed his sunglasses into his hair.
"That was one time. Almost twenty years ago."
"So not never." The amusement on your face faltered, easily wiped away as time plunged deeper into the night. You curled your fingers around his wrist, his radial pulse gently beating beneath you. "I don't know what the mission is," you conceded quietly, swallowing thickly, "but whatever it is, promise me you'll come back."
Bradley's eyes flickered between yours. You had probably done this a million times by now—made him swear that he'll return. That he'll return to you. Alive. And each time, he felt the weight of his career compressing his bones until he was about ten inches shorter. Was this what his dad felt? He wished he could ask him that, see if it got any easier.
"Haven't I always?" He hoped you wouldn't notice the slight crack in his voice.
You gave a short hum, as though you could see right past him. He doubted that the lingering alcohol coursing through his system was any good at keeping a mask up; then again, he was never very good at hiding things from you to begin with.
"Get in the car," you said softly, pulling your face away from his hands. "We'll grab your Bronco in the morning."
"Can I get a kiss first?"
That got a quiet little huff of laughter from you, swelling when he pulled you even closer, his arms tightly looping around your waist, like the very notion of space between you was inexcusable.
"Kiss me, baby," he sang like he was behind the piano again. Quieter this time—a personal serenade.
"You're something else, Bradshaw." You pulled him down for a surprisingly gentle kiss, a delicate pressure that sent a quiet, warm ripple straight to your chest. You hated to pull away, even as your heart rapped against your ribs and your lungs heaved for air, but you couldn't stop the giddy stretch of your lips as age-old butterflies erupted in your stomach.
"Ooh," Bradley shivered, "that feels good."
"Yeah?" You notched an eyebrow. "You gonna love me like a lover should?"
"Oh, baby, I'll do a lot more than that." He nuzzled his face against your neck. "I'ma tell this world that you're mine, mine, mine."
"Good." You stole another kiss. "Now get in the car."
Jake never thought he would ever become a dad. Honestly, he never even thought he would get the chance to experience the kind of love he has with you. Your darling baby Sunny had been unexpected, and yet, she had become the light of your lives from the moment she was born. Parenthood hasn't been easy for either of you, but Sunny has made every second of it worth it.
Summary: After a movie night, you can't help but realize how similar your husband is to one particular Marvel superhero. What starts as a lighthearted debate quickly turns into a deeply meaningful moment.
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: none, just a wife complimenting her husband and him not knowing how to handle it!
a/n: I've been rewatching the Marvel movies, and this thought came to me while watching The Avengers! Enjoy 😘 (also two fics in one week who am I?)
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After a longer than normal week of work for both you and Jake, it was decided that a night in was your weekend's first priority. You both craved a night together uninterrupted, and the most perfect way to do that was a movie night. No talking, no socializing, and no expectations. Just you, him, and the peace of your home.
The living room TV flickered with the final credits of The Avengers, the ending music playing loudly behind the words rolling on the screen.
You stretched your legs under the cozy blanket, poking Jake's thigh with your toes. He looked over at you, his face soft from the dim lighting in the room and his exhaustion from the week. He moved his arms up, arching his back until you heard a small crack. He let out a tired sigh as he offered you a hand to pull you up from the couch.
"Alright darlin," he murmured. "It's bedtime."
The two of you headed for your shared bathroom, his hand never leaving yours as he led you up the stairs. The last two years of your marriage, you've managed to consistently slip into a synched rhythm as you ended your day together. Tonight was no different.
You each grab your toothbrush and brush in sync, watching each other in the bathroom mirror.
"I have to say," you started, rinsing and spitting before continuing the conversation, "I really do think Iron Man is the only one in the Avengers with any real tactical planning."
Jake spits, letting out a scoff as he rinses off his toothbrush. "Stark?! Please. He's such a wildcard. He constantly flies by the seat of his pants, and he has to rely on millions - billions - of dollars of tech to get him through it."
"Oh, what? And you don't?" you teased, leaving against the cool countertop.
"There's a difference," he corrects with a wink, pointing at you with his toothbrush. "I rely on pure, absolute talent."
You laugh softly at him, shaking your head. You reach over for your face wash and for a few minutes, you both continued your superhero logistics debate. Thor's airspace violations, Black Widow's interrogating, and the list goes on.
There's a small lull in the conversation.
As you wipe away the water and leftover suds from your face, you look at Jake through the mirror's reflection. He's leaning against the bathroom doorframe, watching you finish your routine. He has a content look on his face, which brings you comfort after watching him go through the stressful week he's had.
"You know," you start thoughtfully, hanging the towel on the towel ring. "You're kind of like Captain America."
Jake lets out a genuine, soft chuckle, a smile forming on his face. "What could you possibly mean by that?"
"Think about it," you start, shifting to look up at him, leaning against the sink. "Steve Rogers carries a weight of a symbol, and you do too."
You held up your hand, ticking the points on your fingers. "You lead from the front, but you use your smug Hangman persona to mask your exhaustion because you don't want anyone on your squad to see you falter. You both use a shield to protect yourself; his is a physical shield, and yours is your arrogant attitude. But also, behind the shield, you're the fiercely loyal guy who will break protocol, risk being court-martialed, and disregard poor orders if it means you'll bring your men home safely. That 'I can do this all day' determination? You have that exact same thing. You're the guy who, in a world full of skeptics, truly believes in the uniform and in the mission."
It wasn't supposed to be super sappy; you stated it factually. They were small observations that rose from watching the movie and watching Jake do his job week in and week out.
But in front of you, Jake goes still.
Every witty comeback he could have used disappears from his train of thought. Inside his chest, his heart soars.
He's used to compliments about his work, his flying, his looks - even his ego. But hearing you, his wife, the one who knows every single fear, insecurity, and flaw he hides from the rest of the world, comparing him to a symbol of good like Steve Rogers? That knocked the wind right out of him.
Jake's eyes move from your face to the floor. He stands there looking down at his feet, blush creeping up his neck. A small smile tugs at his lips. For the first time since you've known Jake, he almost looks shy.
A smile finds its way to your face at the reaction, realizing how much your words really impacted him. You fill the distance between you, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck.
He doesn't look up at you right away. He's still smiling at the floor, which causes you to life his chin up.
"Plus," you add, your voice falling into a playful whisper. "You're incredibly handsome and very strong."
You let your voice move into an even softer whisper. "You're my Captain America."
Jake takes a deep breath as he tries to play off the softness your words made him feel. He swallows hard, then clears his throat. He's trying so hard to cover up how touched he is, but his usual mask won't come.
He moves his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead.
"Please," he speaks lightly against your hairline, his familiar cockiness coming back slightly. "Steve Rogers doesn't stand a chance against me."
You burst out laughing, swatting his shoulder. The sound echoed in the bathroom, ruining the soft moment that was there previously. "Oh, shut up. Let's go to bed."
A few moments later, the house is dark, and you're laying together in bed. Jake immediately pulls you into his side, moving his arm under your head. Your cheek is against his chest, the sound of his heart beating right under your ear. You close your eyes, his warmth summoning you into sleep.
But Jake doesn't follow.
He's staring at the ceiling, listening to your breathing fill the room. His brain is completely flooded by your compliments you gave him in the bathroom; they were flowing on repeat. You lead from the front. You believe in the mission. You're my Captain America.
In his world, where he consistently needs to prove his worth through being the loudest, fastest, and best pilot, you looked at him and saw something good. It was truly the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him.
His grip tightened on you slightly, adjusting himself to be as close to you as possible. A quiet smile landed on his face in the dark room, gratitude filling his bones as he found himself falling asleep with the words finally settling into his mind.
Summary: After your dad pulled not only Bradley’s Naval Academy application but your own as well, the two of you cut him out of your lives. Forced to find your own way to make your dreams come true, it became you and Bradley against the world. Now, engaged and highly successful, despite your father’s interference, you’re both recalled to Top Gun for a high stakes mission. Will this be an opportunity to put the past behind you all and find freedom from the hurt and anger…or will it lead to you losing everyone you’ve ever loved?
Cast/Pairings: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mitchell! Reader (Female) call sign Siren , Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Daughter! Reader, All the Daggers! Penny.
A/N: Top Gun Maverick is property of Paramount, I do not own the characters, I DO own original/reader characters and the storyline pertaining to the original characters. I do NOT give permission for anyone to copy my work, use my work in AI, translate, print, sell, or post my work to any other platform, including this one. I will find you. Don’t be an asshole.
Taglist is open! If I missed anyone who asked to be tagged, please fill out this GOOGLE FORM to be added. It’s getting to hard to keep track of asks.
Requested by @kcloveswrestling Hope you like it!!!
Masterlist Part 11
Mission launch time arrives quicker than either of you are ready for. Both of you get ready on autopilot, pulling on your flight suits and making sure you have everything. Before heading up to the deck you pause, wrapping your arms around one another tightly.
“I love you so much.” You whisper, your face buried in his neck. “More than you can ever know.”
“I love you too, Beautiful.” He replied, kissing the top of your head, “You mean more to me than anything in this world.”
“Come home, Roo.” You say, your voice just above a whisper. “Please, above all else, just come home.”
“I’ll do everything in my power to get home to you.” He promised, “We still have our happily ever after.”
The two of you made your way up to the flight deck, not even caring about protocol. Your hand wouldn’t be leaving his until it absolutely had to. Everything was moving faster up on deck. Crews were getting the jets ready. You saw your jet that you normally fly with Bradley, but today it would be Jake in the front seat… and Bradley flying solo in Jake’s plane. You couldn’t shake the gnawing anxiety in your belly.
You looked at Bradley, squeezing his hand.
“Go get ‘em, Baby.” You yelled over the noise of the jet engines. “Remember what Uncle Ice said… You’ve already proven you are good enough. Fly it like you mean it, Roo.”
“I love you, Siri.” He yelled back, a soft smile on his face. “I’ll see you when I get back on deck… and this will be the last damn time I launch without you, Baby.”
“Damn straight.” You said, trying to smile and not cry.
With a final squeeze to his hand, you turned and headed towards your normal jet, tossing your flight gear into the back and going over prechecks with the flight crew while you waited for Jake. Your dad came over while you were checking the wings.
“Siren.” He called over the loud noise. You turned, giving him a small smile.
“Sir.” You replied.
“I just wanted to let you know that…” He started to say, but you shook your head, stepping forward and hugging him.
“We’ll talk when you get back, Dad.” You said in his ear, “Just come home.”
He hugged you back, holding you a little tighter. When he stepped back, his eyes were suspiciously red rimmed. He gave you a small smile.
“I love you, Kid.” He said
“I love you too, Dad.” You replied, “Don’t do anything stupid.”
He chuckled, shaking his head and giving a mock salute before turning and heading towards his own plane.
Jake arrived a couple minutes later but you didn’t notice him right away as you were watching as Bradley saluted his ground crew and climbed into the single seater. Your throat felt tight and you had to swallow hard past the lump forming, taking several deep breaths.
“He’s got this, Siri.” Jake said, putting his hand on your shoulder, “He’ll be back on the carrier before you know it.”
You looked up at him, giving him a small smile and nodded. You just hoped and prayed he was right. The alternative wasn’t anything you could handle thinking about.
“Ready?” He asked, nodding to the jet. You took a deep breath to clear your head and nodded.
“Yeah..” You replied, “Yeah, I’m ready.”
The two of you got situated in the cockpit. Jake took a minute to get familiar with the slightly different feel of things and you brought him up to speed, essentially giving him a crash course.
“Dagger 1 Comms check” Your dad’s voice comes over comms.
“Dagger 3 up and ready” Phoenix says.
“Dagger 2 up and ready” Bradley comes on next. Your breath catches, body tensing.
“Dagger 4 we read you sir.” Payback says.”
“Dagger spare is up and ready, standing by.” Jake says.
You’re trying to get in control of your breathing. Jake turns off the comms, just talking to you.
“They’ve got this, Siren.” He reassures you. “Focus on breathing, keep your head in the game.”
“Trying.” You replied.
“You’re all the best of the best.” Mav said, “It’s an honor flying with you…ALL of you. Dagger 1 up and ready on catapult one”
“Strike package ready. Standing by for launch decision.” The crew tech officer said.
“Send them.” Admiral Simpson said.
You hold your breath as you watch as all four F-18’s launch from the carrier leaving you behind with Jake…waiting…hoping and praying that you wouldn't need to launch.
You sat and listened as Cyclone ordered the missiles to be launched that would destroy the runway so that they couldn’t launch any counter attacks.
There was no going back now.
“Taking it down to 100 feet.” Mav said, “Dagger is set, ready on my mark.”
You feel your heart racing as you listen over the comms.
“We need to pick up speed, increase to 500 knots." Fanboy said.
“Rooster, do you copy, we need to pick it up.” Payback said.
Bradley is silent.
“Come on, Baby… you’ve got this.” You whispered, “Fly it like you mean it.”
“Rooster, do you copy?” Payback repeated.
“Come on… don’t think, just do.” Mav said quietly, almost as if to himself.
“90 seconds to target” Bob said
“Do you have visual on Rooster?” Mav asked.
“Negative.” Bob replied.
Your gut was churning.
“Dagger 2 is falling behind.” Comms crew said, “He’s disengaging from attack team.”
“Rooster, Mav’s getting away.” Payback said.
“We’re ok, we’re ok.” Rooster said, his voice slightly shaking.
“We’re not ok, we’re way behind.” Payback urged, “We’ve gotta go, Rooster.”
Several seconds go by, Fanboy is struggling with the laser eye but gets it working, Payback says it won’t matter if they don’t move.
“Come on, Rooster.” Mav said softly
“Talk to me, Dad.” Bradley said, barely above a whisper. You know he’s thinking out loud.
A moment later Bradley must have reengaged.
“Jesus, Rooster, not so fast!” Payback said.
“Dagger three is re-engaging.” Comms crew said.
“Dagger 1 and 3, I have visual.” Bradley said, “We’re on your six.”
“Right on time.” Mav said, “Let’s deliver and head home. Phoenix we’re popping in 3…2..1”
Bob secures the laser and Mav drops the target, before they head up straight up and out of the canyon.
“Impact! Impact!” Bob said.
“Direct Hit! Direct Hit!” Comms crew said.
“That’s miracle 1” Warlock said.
“Now they’re in coffin corner.” Admiral Simpson said.
Mav, Phoenix and Bob start taking fire from the SAMS.
“Fanboy, where’s my laser?” Bradley asked
“Targeting…. Seconds away.” He replied, “Shit! Deadeye, deadeye! Laser’s gone!”
“We’re out of time!” Bradley said.
“I’m working on it!” Fanboy said, “Stand by.”
“No time, pull out.” Bradley replied.
“Rooster, wait,” Payback said.”
“Great Balls of Fire.” Rooster said softly before launching the bunker buster.
Alarms sound over the comms as they’re all now battling SAMS.
“BULLSEYE! BULLSEYE! BULLSEYE!” The comms crew said.
“Yes!” You cheered, hearing Jake do the same.
“Miracle number 2.” Warlock said.
“Now get out of there.” Admiral Simpson said.
The moments are tense and you hold your breath as you listen to them over the comms. The SAMS have them in a fight for their life to get out of coffin corner. They don’t have unlimited ammo.
A moment later you hear Bradley’s voice come over and your heart stops.
“I’m out of flares!” He said. “Maverick, NO!”
Seconds pass, you can’t breathe
“Maverick!” Bradley yelled.
“Dagger 1 is hit!” Phoenix said, “I repeat, Dagger 1 is hit! He’s going down!”
It feels like the whole world stops. You can’t breathe.
“Dad” You whispered, “No.”
“Dagger 1, status. Status.” Bradley said, his voice sounding on the verge of panic. “Does anyone see him? I didn’t see a chute.”
“He’s gone, Rooster.” Payback said.
“We have to circle back!” Bradley replied.
“Get them to the carrier. Now.” Admiral Simpson ordered.
“All Daggers flow to ECP. You have bandits headed for you.” Comms crew said.
“What about Maverick?” Bradley asked.
You had a bad feeling. You knew your husband and despite everything that had happened, deep down, he loved your dad and if something happened you knew it would eat him alive. But he was out of flares and if he went back you’d lose your dad and your husband.
“Bradley… no.” You whispered.
“Tell him there’s nothing he can do for Maverick.” Admiral Simpson said, “Not in a goddamn f-18.”
There’s back and forth between Warlock, Hondo and Admiral Simpson.
“Dagger you are not to engage, repeat, do not engage.” Comms crew said.
There was no response.
“Dagger 2, return to the carrier.” Comms crew repeated. “Acknowlege.”
Still nothing.
You were fighting to keep yourself together. Your dad was gone. Your stomach was churning, it was all you could do not to throw up.
“Rooster, those bandits are closing. We can’t go back.” Payback reasoned with Bradley.
“COMACHE, Picture.” Bradley said.
“Dagger, Comanche,” Comms responded, “Bandits 30 east. Hot on you. Flow west to evade.”
“Rooster…” Phoenix said gently, “He’s gone.”
A soft sob breaks from you. Your heart starts to shatter.
What feels like forever passes and then you hear the words you had hoped to never hear and your entire world implodes.
“Dagger 2 is hit.” Comms crew says. “Dagger 2, do you copy? Dagger 2 come in.”
You couldn’t breathe. You physically could not pull oxygen into your lungs.
“Dagger spare, requesting permission to launch and fly air cover.” Jake said, hitting his comms button.
“Negative, Spare.” Comms crew replied.
Still no word word from Bradley. You can’t breathe and you’re going to be sick. You rip the helmet off and scramble down from the jet, Jake on your heels. As soon as you hit the deck you’re heaving. Once your stomach is empty you crash to the ground and a gut wrenching scream leaves you. There’s no holding back now. You can’t stop the searing pain, the grief hitting you full force.
“No! No… no, no… noo!” You yelled as loud as your voice would allow. Jake embraced you, holding you, keeping you from completely collapsing.
“I’ve got you, Siri.” He said, his voice shaky, “I’ve got you.”
“He… he can’t be gone.” You whispered, shaking uncontrollably, “I can’t lose him too. Bradley is my whole world…. And…my dad…. fuck….I messed up. He’ll…. He’ll never know I forgive him… I… I love him so much. I don’t hate him.”
“He knows, Siri.” Jake promised, “He knows.”
You sobbed, trying to catch your breath.
Hondo came running out towards you both.
“Rooster’s ESAT came back.” He said, out of breath, “He’s supersonic… in an F-14.”
“Dad.” You replied, gasping. “He’s with my dad.”
“Come on, Siri.” Jake said, “We need to get back in the jet in case we need to launch. They’re alive. Deep breath.”
You wiped your eyes, breathing in as you stood up.
“You good?” Hondo asked. You nodded, giving him a small smile.
You and Jake climbed back into the F-18 and got situated again, buckling back in and putting your helmet back on. You got in just in time to hear your dad’s voice come over comms.
“Rough Rider, this is uh… Ghost Rider…” he said, “We have repossessed an enemy Tomcat. Splash 2 bandits. We are in bound. Heading south. Hold your fire.”
Your relief was short lived as not long after you heard them over the comms again that another bandit was on them and they were out of ammo.
Hondo made eye contact with Jake who nodded. The canopy came down on the jet.
“Jake…” You said, question in your voice.
“We’ve got Hondo’s permission.” He replied, “That’s enough for me. What about you?”
“Let’s go get my husband and my dad.” You said, clipping on your mask.
The flight crew on deck got you in position and on Hondo’s command you were launching off the carrier within a couple of minutes.
“Fly this thing faster than you’ve ever flown before, Hangman.” You said, flipping on your radars and scanning all around to keep sight of other bandits.
“On it.” He replied. “Be ready to do your thing.”
You watched as the dots on the radar got closer and closer, until finally you physically had eyes on them.
“Hangman! They’ve got tone!” You yelled, “Bandit has tone!”
“I’m dropping into position now!” He said.
You lined up the shot, no room for error. Your whole world was riding on this shot.
“Tone!” You said, “Fire!”
“Sending missiles.” He replied.
Seconds go by.
“Bullseye!” You yelled, laughing in relief. You went flying through the dark smoke and soon you were crying in relief as you saw the Tomcat ahead of you.
Jake flew up alongside it and you looked over, tears still falling as you placed your hand on the canopy…as if you could reach out and touch Bradley.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is your…saviors speaking.” Jake said, a smile in his voice, “Please fasten your seatbelts and return your trays to their upright positions and prepare for landing.”
“Hey, Hangman… Siren…” Bradley said, looking over, chuckling, relief evident in his voice, “You look good.”
“I am good, Rooster.” Jake replied, “I’m very good. So is your backseater… may have to steal her.”
“Not on your life.” Bradley replied, but he was smiling, his eyes on you. “Hey, Beautiful.”
“Hey, Roo.” You said softly, your voice still shaky. You gave him as much of a smile as you could, “You’re in so much trouble. See you back on deck. You too, Dad.”
He nodded, his eyes staying on yours for a moment.
“See y’all back on deck.” Jake said, then with a final salute to Mav he pulled away and did a wing dip and victory roll of the plane before heading back to the ship, with the Tomcat following behind.
You kept your eyes on their dot on your radar the entire way, not daring to look away.
The flight deck and comms clears you and Jake to land. You weren’t sure how much trouble you’d be in…if any, when you landed but you would do it a million times over because you know had Jake gotten you both there any later your father and your husband would actually have died.
As soon as you land, Jake releases the canopy and you take off your helmet, turning to watch as the flight deck frantically prepares for your dad to land without landing gear. As he approaches the engine blows on the Tomcat. You hold your breath as the plane essentially lands in a controlled crash onto the deck of the carrier, the crew immediately using fire extinguishers to put out any flames. You’re already jumping down from the cockpit and running towards them, pushing your way through others, already starting to crowd the space.
You see Bradley toss his helmet down, a smile on his face, looking around for you. You push your way through until you’re in his line of sight. You barrel into him, your arms wrapping around his neck tightly, burying your face into his neck. His own arms wrap around you. You’d missed the wince when you collided with him.
“Bradley.” You gasp, fresh sobs overtaking you, “I thought I’d lost you…couldn’t breathe.”
“Shhh.” He soothed over the roar of activity on deck, “I’m here, Baby. I’m alive. I couldn’t let you lose your dad, Beautiful… not on top of just looking Uncle Ice.”
“I almost lost BOTH of you, you IDIOT!” You gasped, pulling back to look at him, tears streaming down your face. “Fuck I love you. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Baby.” He replied, chuckling, “And I’m your idiot. Not going anywhere. Thanks for the save, Beautiful.”
“I may or may not be in trouble for that.” You admitted, “We didn’t technically have the go ahead from Simpson… Hondo launched us.”
“Shit, Beautiful.” He laughed, then winced.
“You’re hurt.” You said, stepping back to look him over. “You need to go to medical.”
“I will,” He promised, “But not yet.” He nodded towards your dad.
You smiled softly and the two of you made your way over to him.
“Dad!” You called over the sound of everyone celebrating. He turned to look at you, a soft smile on his face. “I thought I told you not to do anything stupid.”
“I didn’t think you’d count saving your husband as something stupid.” He winked.
“Fair.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly. “I love you, Dad. So so much. I don’t hate you. I don’t think I ever hated you… I was just really angry.”
“I love you too, Sweetheart.” He said, his voice horse as he hugged you back as tight as he could, “More than you could ever know.”
“Please don’t try to die on me again.” You begged, pulling back to look at him, “We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Counting on that.” He replied, winking, then turned to look at Bradley. He stepped over and pulled him into a hug. Bradley, hugged him back, making you cry all over again.
“Thanks for saving my life” Mav said to him, his voice breaking, as he stepped back to look at Bradley.
“It’s what my dad would have done.” Bradley replied, smiling at him. Mav pulled him back into a tight hug.
Phoenix comes over and hugs you. You hug her back tightly.
“I’m so sorry, Siri.” She said, “I would have gone back for them…”
“No, Nix… stop.” You quickly stopped her, “You would have gone down with them too… there was nothing you could have done.” You smiled gently.
She smiled softly at you then looked at Bradley. Relief filled her face as she moved to hug him.
“Don’t ever do that to me again!” She said, “Or to Siri!”
“I’ll do my best.” He chuckled, hugging her back. “Sorry, Nix. Couldn’t leave Mav behind.”
They pull apart and Jake comes over. You hug him tightly.
“Thank you, Jake.” You tell him, “No matter what happens now, thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Siri.” He said, hugging you back. “No matter what… I’d fly with you anyday.”
“Same.” You said, smiling as you stepped back. “But, I’ve seen what happens when my husband is left without supervision and if I can help it, I won’t be letting that happen again.”
“That’s valid.” He laughed, shaking his head, looking at Bradley. “You did, Rooster.”
“Chalked yourself another kill.” Bradley replied, smiling, extending his hand to Jake, who accepted the offering with a half smile and shrug.
“That’s three.” He replied.
“Mav’s got 5.” Phoenix pointed out, “Makes him an Ace.” You all look to your dad who’s talking to Hondo.
Bradley winces as he shifts.
“Let’s go, Hot Shot.” You said, “You need medical attention.”
He nodded, allowing you to lead him away from the flight deck towards the medical bay. You look back and make eye contact with your dad and nod your head towards the interior of the ship, giving him a pointed look. He’d had 2 ejections in the last six weeks. He needed to be checked out. He winked and nodded.
“Damn man thinks he’s invisible.” You grumbled, leading Bradley inside.
“They’ll make him get checked out, Beautiful.” Bradley chuckled, again wincing.
“How bad is it?” You asked, looking at your husband.
“I think I may have a couple of bruised or slightly busted ribs.” He replied, “My head is tender… glad we’re out of the sun.”
“Roo… I can’t even describe the blinding pain that I felt when I thought you were gone.” You whispered, pausing to look at him. He gently took you in his arms, holding you close to him, your head against his chest listening to his steady heartbeat.
“I’m so sorry, Baby.” He said softly, kissing the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to hurt you… I didn’t think… I just…reacted.”
“I puked all over the flight deck.” You admitted. “Haven’t done that since flight school. Jake was really great through it all… that was the second time he was there when grief took me to my knees… probably makes us family now…that and him saving your life.”
“That was a joint effort,” Jake said, coming up behind you both. “But… I don’t mind being adopted…if the offer stands.”
You looked over at him and smiled, “You were the pilot in the box.”
“Siren.” He smirked, “It was a two seater… you were in the box too.”
“Yeah, guess so.” You shrugged, smiling, “And… you’re family, Seresin. Wasn’t really an offer… that implies choice.”
“I find it’s better just to go along with her, Hangman,” Bradley laughed, “She’s strong minded.”
“Damn straight.” You laughed, “Now… medical bay, Handsome.”
You continued into the medical bay. Bradley was checked out while Jake waited with you. Your dad finally came in while you waited and got checked out as well.
Bradley came out awhile later, a small smile on his lips, eyes slightly hazy.
“Hey my beautiful wife.” He said, walking to you.
“Uh oh..” you laughed, “What did they give you?”
The medic follows him out, smiling as she comes over.
“Lieutenant Mitchell” She said, smiling, “Lieutenant Bradhsaw tells me you’re in charge. Just wanted to go over everything with you.”
“I am in charge.” You laughed, “Because when he’s left to his own devices he ends up having to eject and gets himself injured”
“He’s got a mild concussion, nothing we’re too worried about, but he’ll have light sensitivity and one helluva headache for a while.” She said, “He also has some severely bruised ribs. Honestly, he’d have been better off breaking them… they’d have healed faster that way. He’s going to be very sore, especially when the adrenaline wears off. We gave him some pain killers and we’re sending these up with him to take every 4 hours until you all are airlifted off the ship. I believe transport is scheduled for tomorrow. He needs to follow up at the base hospital upon return for a full workup. They’ll determine when he can be released back to duty.”
“Never.” You said, only half joking. “Desk duty until the end of time.”
“Awww, Baby don’t be like that.” He said, pouting. “I just need you in the backseat of the plane with me, Beautiful.”
The medic chuckled, “I’ll leave him in your hands, Lieutenant. If he worsens or becomes disorientated, bring him back immediately.”
“Absolutely.” You replied, “Thank you.”
“Need help getting him to his quarters?” Jake asked, “He looks like he’s about to get very heavy.”
“Yeah…” You said, hesitating as you looked towards where the medic had disappeared to. Your dad was still in there. “Let’s get him settled, then I’ll run back down to check on my dad… can…you stay with him while I come back?”
“Sure.” Jake said, smiling softly, “I can do that.”
“Let’s go, big guy.” You said, helping Bradley towards the narrow hallway of the ship. “Gonna get you settled and into some clean clothes then Jake is going to stay with you while I check on dad quickly.”
He was already half asleep on his feet and very uncoordinated. You were thankful for Jake’s help. Together, you got him up to his quarters and inside. You got him onto the bed and helped him get out of the flight suit, removing his boots first then tripping him down. Jake went to the small cubby that acted like a closet in the room and grabbed a fresh pair of sweats and a t-shirt. You grabbed a wash cloth and tossed it to Jake who got it wet in the sink before passing it back to you.
“I’m just going to clean you up a bit, Roo.” You said softly, “Get some of this dried blood and sweat off of you.”
You carefully cleaned off the dried blood from his neck and wiped away the dirt and grime, taking extra care around his injured ribs. He needed a shower but at the moment he needed rest even more. You finished up and then carefully got his clean t-shirt and sweats on him before helping him lay back onto the bunk.
“Stay with me.” He whispered, his words slightly slurred, “Don’t leave.”
“I’ll be right back, Baby.” You promised, kissing his forehead. “I’m just going to pop down to Medical to check on my dad.”
“I.. don’t hate him.” He whispered, his eyes trying hard to focus on yours.
“I know, Baby.” You replied, smiling softly. You brushed your hand lightly over his cheek. “Me either. He knows too. I’ll be right back.”
“K” He said, his eyes already drifting close. “Love you.”
“I love you too, Bradley Bradshaw.” You said, leaning forward to kiss his forehead again, “More than anything.”
You watched him for a moment as his breathing evened out then you carefully stood and turned to look at Jake.
“I’ll be right back.” You said softly.
“I’ve got him, Siri.” He promised, smiling, “Go check on Mav. You’ve been through a lot today… probably need to hug your dad.”
“Haven’t had that option for a really long time.” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes. “And I almost lost it again before getting it back.”
“But you didn’t.” He said gently, “And… regardless of what happened before… you’ve got another shot. He has his faults… but he’s infinitely better than one I’ve got.”
“Didn’t you hear, Jake?” You smiled, eyes shining with tears, “You’ve been adopted. Doesn’t just come with me and Roo. Means you get a really …somewhat dysfunctional at times… crazy ass family.”
“Then I guess you better go check on Pops.” He said, his voice horse, eyes suspiciously glassy.
“I’ll let him know he’s got another pain in the ass son.” You teased, hugging him. “He’ll be thrilled.”
You left the room, the sound of Jake chuckling filling your ears. You let out a deep breath as you headed back down to the medical bay. You passed Javy and Nix on the way.
“Hey, we were coming to look for you.” Phoenix said, “How’s Bradley?”
“He’s got a slight concussion and some severely bruised ribs” You replied, “He’s really lucky all things considered. They gave him pain meds. Jake helped me get him back to his quarters. I’m going to check on my dad then I plan on sleeping in with Bradley… the Navy can shove it if they have a problem.”
“I don’t think anyone is questioning that tonight, Siri.” Javy said, smiling softly. “How’s Jake doing?”
“He seemed ok.” You replied, “He got a little emotional when I explained that he’d been adopted and that means he kinda gets my dad in the process too…”
“Oh shit.” Javy said quietly
“Yeah… he alluded to his own not being so great.” You replied, “He’s in with Bradley who is knocked out if you wanna go check on him.”
“Ok.” Javy said, smiling, “Thanks, Siri.”
“Let us know if you need anything,” Phoenix said, her eyes locking on yours. She knew you well, knew that once the adrenaline wore off, you’d likely be a wreck too.
“I will, Nix.” You said softly, “Thanks.”
You continued into medical and asked the petty officer at the desk about your dad. They looked at the computer then smiled and said they’d have someone come out for you.
You sat down in the seats once more to wait. A few moments later, instead of a medic, Hondo came out.
“Siren.” He smiled softly, “Come on back”
You got up and followed him back to a small room. Your dad was out of his flight suit and in the Navy issued medical gown in the bed. He had an IV hooked to him and a monitor.
“Hi Dad.” You said quietly as you walked into the room. “You good?”
“Hey, Sweetheart.” He replied, his voice sounding tired, “I’m good. Doc said I have a few ribs that took a beating in the last ejection that didn’t take too kindly to being jostled again in this one. Also on concussion protocol and needed a few stitches.”
“I wouldn’t call that good, Dad.” You smiled, shaking your head. “But it’s alive and I will happily take that.”
“Amen.” Hondo said, chuckling. “I’m going to leave you two to talk.”
He left the room, leaving just you and your dad together.
You looked over at your dad, seeing for the first time just how much older he was now that he was laying in the medical bay bed, compared to when you and Bradley had been angry 18 year olds, storming out of the house, and out of his life for essentially the next fourteen years. Tears fill your eyes and you feel your shoulders start to shake.
“Hey… Sweetheart.” He said gently, reaching for you, “Come here, none of that… I’m fine. I’m right here.”
You carefully sat on the bed and leaned in, hugging your dad, needing his comfort. He wrapped his arms around you, careful not to tangle the IV or wires and held onto you, one hand moving into your hair that had long since come down from the bun and was in a messy ponytail.
“Shhh. I’ve got you.” He said, his voice soft and gentle, “You’re ok. I’m ok… Bradley’s ok. We’re all going home, Sweetheart.”
“I almost lost you, Dad.” You whispered against his chest. “I… it doesn’t even matter anymore. Any of it.”
“It does” He replied, kissing the top of your head, “It matters. You and Bradley deserve an explanation… a real one. We’ll talk. All of us. When we get home. When adrenaline has worn off and we’re all rested. You two can come out to the hangar and we’ll sit down… and we’ll talk.”
“I love you, Dad.” You said, your voice ragged with tears. “Uncle Tommy was right… about everything.”
“He usually was.” Mav chuckled, then winced. “I love you too, my sweet girl. Never stopped, never will.”
“Bradley’s got bruised ribs and a slight concussion. He’s resting in his quarters.” You said, “Jake is staying with him until I get back up there. I’ve adopted him by the way… so… congrats, Dad… you’ve got another son… Fair warning… I think he intends to call you ‘Pops’.”
“Is this negotiable?” He groaned, but was still smiling.
“Him being adopted?” You asked, “No. But you can work with him on the name thing.”
“Alright.” He conceded. “Guess I’m taking on a pain in the ass, hard headed, son.”
“So… just like the godson you already have.” You smiled, lifting your head to look at him, “Who is now your son-in-law and whom I love with my entire being.”
“Sweetheart, Carole and I saw that one coming long from day one with you two kids.” He laughed, “There was never any doubt… and you need to know that she loved you just as fiercely as I love Bradley… you were her ray of sunshine and she would be so damn proud of the woman you are… of the wife, partner, best friend you are to Bradley. And so am I. I am just as proud of him too.”
“I love you, Dad.” You said, fresh tears spilling, “I needed to hear that…. Bradley does too.”
“I love you too, Sweetheart.” He smiled, kissing your forehead. “I will tell Bradley. I will make sure there is no doubt in his mind that I am proud of him and that I believe in him… and you. I believe in both of you as a team too.”
“Thank you, Dad.” You smiled, your eyes red rimmed. It felt as though a huge weight had lifted from your chest. You knew there was still a lot to talk about, a lot of hurt to heal, but it was a good start.
“I’m gonna be stuck here under observation tonight.” He said, “Go be with Bradley. We’ll catch up again tomorrow… and back on land too.”
“Listen to the docs.” You said, “Get some sleep. You’re not a spring chicken anymore, Dad. You can’t do that crazy pilot shit anymore.”
“Starting to get that memo, Sweetheart.” He winced, “Starting to get it.”
“Goodnight, Dad.” You smiled softly as you got up, “Love you.”
“Night, Sweetheart.” He replied, “Love you too.”
You walked back up to your quarters, changing quickly out of your flight suit. Opting to forgo the shower for now too in order to get back to Bradley quicker, you threw on clean athletic shorts and a Navy T-shirt and made your way back to his quarters.
“Hey.” You whispered to Jake when you walked in, “He still out?”
“Yeah,” He smiled, looking back at you, “He looked a little uncomfortable but he can’t have anything for another hour and a half so not much I could do.”
“Thanks, Jake.” You smiled, “Go get something to eat and rest. We’ll have to face the music tomorrow I’m sure.”
“Worth it.” He said, shrugging. “Call if you need anything, ok?”
“I will.” You agreed, “Goodnight Jake.”
“Night, Siri” He said, dropping a kiss to the top of your head and heading out of the room.
You looked over at Bradley, sleeping on the bunk. Went to the end of the bed and crawled over him, careful not to bump him, then wedged yourself against the cold metal of the side of the ship and the warmth of him, careful not to jostle him or irritate or injure his already injured ribs.
In his med induced sleep, he instinctively brought his arm around you and pulled you further into him, nuzzling his face against you. You smiled softly, breathing him in. The events of the day had caught up with you…you were hitting the proverbial brick wall. Your body, mind and soul could go no further. Your eyes drifted close and you slowly fell asleep to the sound of Bradley’s heartbeat, which was now your absolute favorite sound in the world.
***
A/N: Thoughts??? That was a LOT with the mission scene... also fun fact.. TGM screwed up in the movie/script... anyone catch where? I had to consult @roosterforme ! Thanks for helping! I thought I was crazy! lol
tags: friends to lovers, estranged best friends, tyler and reader are kind of dumb but we love them <3
warnings: heavy angst, emotional pining, unsaid feelings, a four-year-old cockblock, misunderstanding, hurt/comfort, miscommunication
wc: 7888
Summary: Five years ago, you walked away from Oklahoma and the man you have known for a very long time and loved to raise your son without any help as you decided to keep it when your ex left and refused child support. Now you're back as a financially independent and a completely unprepared mother to face the new "Tornado Wrangler." And when a massive misunderstanding about his new partner drives a wedge between you, Tyler tracks you down to your new home to demand answers and the truth.
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"Mommy, where are we going?" A childlike voice was heard from the other room, a soft rattle coming out from it. "Hold on sweetie, we're just setting things up. You know, your new room is going to be so beautiful," you called back, keeping your voice warm and steady as you bent over and smoothed out the wrinkles on a sleek, minimalist duvet cover.
Then youtook a step back, surveying the bedroom. The house was perfect. It was a stunning, mid-century modern gem nestled just far enough from the chaotic heart of Oklahoma's storm alley, but close enough to feel like home. Large glass windows let the golden afternoon light flood across the polished concrete floors.
Your parents had offered to pay for everything, but you had insisted on securing the lease yourself, using your own savings. You needed to prove that you were this independent, vessel of the family who could build a beautiful, independent life for your four-year-old son, Leo, without looking back for help or hesitation.
Then a soft thump of boots and a clack echoed as Leo wandered into your room, dragging his favorite toy truck across the floor. He looked up at you with wide, curious eyes. "Are we staying here forever?"
"We are." you smiled, kneeling down to press a kiss to his forehead.
Back then, when your ex vanished the moment the pregnancy test turned positive, he had refused a single dime of child support. You were young, terrified and couldn't do anything. So when Leo was born, you couldn't drag a baby into the path of a violent tornado, so you packed your bags and went to your parents. You hadn't expected Tyler to walk you to your car back then, you remembered how his jaw clenched, how his blue eyes swam with a desperate, unspoken emotion as he practically begged you to stay. You also didn't expect for Dani to pack you a box of morning-sickness snacks and extra pain killers with a promise to check in every single week. It was a promise she actually kept.
But you had been gone a long time. They had grown. And Tyler was famous now.
"Come on, Leo," you said, pushing the heavy nostalgia down. "Let's go load up the car. We need to go pick up the last of your toys from the storage unit, and then Mommy is going to surprise some old friends."
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An hour later, your sleek black, modern SUV pulled up to the familiar gravel lot of the crew's main garage workshop. The sight of the massive, dented rigs parked outside made your stomach do a nervous flip.
Before your engine could even fully idle down, the garage's side door flew open. You laughed, getting down from the car while Leo stayed inside.
"No freaking way!" a voice screeched.
Dani dropped the heavy metal wrench she was holding with a loud clack against the gravel. She didn't care about the grease on her overalls. She had already bolted across the lot. You barely had time to close your car door before she threw her arms around your neck, squeezing the breath out of you.
"You're back! You're actually back!" Dani yelled into your shoulder, her voice cracking. "Why didn't you text me you were arriving today?! I would have cleared the whole schedule!"
"I wanted it to be a surprise," you laughed, hugging her back just as tightly as she did. Then the familiar smell of motor oil and rain on her clothes instantly made you feel grounded.
Within seconds, the rest of the chaos erupted. Boone poked his head out of a truck bed, his eyes going wide behind his camera lens.
"Guys! Look who it is!" he shouted. Dex and Lily materialized from the back, abandoning a drone calibration to swarm the car.
Leo peeked out from the backseat, clutching his toy truck to his chest, startled but fascinated by the loud, colorful crowd.
"Oh, look at him! He's gotten so big!" Dani beamed, instantly softening her voice as she leaned into the back, giving Leo a goofy wave. "Hi, buddy. Remember me on FaceTime?"
You leaned against the side of your car, watching your old family embrace your son. A deep, warm sense of relief washed over you. They hadn't forgotten you.
"Hey, where's the boss man?" Boone asked, looking back toward the garage. "He's gonna lose his mind."
"Right here," a deep, drawling southern voice echoed from the shadow of the garage door.
The laughter around the car died down to a soft murmur. You turned your head at the voice as your breath was caught in your throat.
Tyler Owens, who had walked out into the sunlight, looking exactly the same, yet felt completely different. But he wore a crisp white t-shirt, dark jeans and his signature cowboy hat pulled low. He looked rugged, impossibly handsome and toweringly confident until his eyes locked onto yours.
Tyler stopped dead in his tracks. The swagger completely vanished, replaced by a raw, paralyzing shock. His chest rose and fell in a sharp breath. Because for years, he had lived with the ghost of your absence, holding onto the memory of the girl he had been desperately, secretly in love with. And now, here you were. Standing in the gravel lot, looking radiant and undeniably beautiful.
"Hey, Ty," you said softly. God, he loves it when you call him that. But of course you don't know it. You only know when your voice had started feeling very small.
He swallowed hard, taking a slow step forward. His eyes darted from you to the backseat, where Leo was watching him. A complex storm of emotions crossed Tyler's face. A face mixed with a longing, immense joy, and a sharp, sudden pang of jealousy toward the man who gets to hold you, but had been foolish enough to throw it all away.
"You're back," Tyler breathed, his voice rougher than usual. He reached out, his hand hovering near your shoulder for a split second as if checking to see if you were real, before he pulled you into a firm, brief embrace. He smelled like leather, ozone, and old spice. It made your chest ache. "Why didn't you tell us?" Why didn't you tell him?
"I wanted to surprise everyone," you repeated, but the warmth from earlier felt a little more guarded now. Tyler's reaction felt heavy. Distant, even. You wondered if he resented you for leaving him to handle the crew alone.
But bfore Tyler could say anything else, a sharp female voice called out from inside the garage.
"Tyler? Did you find the extra brackets for the doppler? Javi said that the storm front is moving faster than we thought."
A gorgeous woman with an effortless, practical beauty walked out, holding a tablet covered in weather radar streams. She stopped when she saw the crowd, her eyes shifting curiously between you and Tyler. It was Kate. Kate Carter. The woman that Dani was talking about back when you were in a FaceTime with her.
Then you noticed at the way she naturally called for Tyler, the way she stepped into the space right beside him and the way Tyler's eyes instinctively flicked to her to answer. It was how you and Tyler were.
And that made a sly, icy drop of dread pool around in your stomach.
Of course, you thought bitterly, your proud, independent defense mechanisms instantly slamming into place. Five years is a long time. You didn't think he'd just be waiting around for you, did you?
"Oh, Kate, this is—" Dani started to introduce you, but you smoothly cut her off, forcing a polite, breezy smile onto your face that didn't reach your eyes.
"I'm an old friend of the team," you said, saying your name, stepping back and putting a polite distance between yourself and Tyler. "Just stopping by to say hello while I get settled into my new place. It's nice to meet you."
Tyler's eyes snapped to you, his brow furrowing as he felt the sudden shift in your demeanor. Kate then smiled, greeting you back as you smiled back.
Her gaze drifted down to Leo, who was still peering curiously from the backseat. "Oh? What's this? A little partner-in-training, that is. He's absolutely adorable." Then she looks back at you, repeating your name.
"That's a nice name. I’m Kate, Kate Carter. I’ve heard so much about you from Dani. She talks about you constantly. Especially—" a cough was heard from Tyler, "Think that's enough for now."
"Yeah. Dani talks about me? All good things, I hope," you replied, your voice perfectly polite, though your heart was still hammering against your ribs.
You glanced at Tyler. He was watching you intently, his jaw tight and those piercing blue eyes searching your face, trying to decode the sudden distance you had put between them. He looked like he wanted to say a thousand things, but with the entire crew standing in a circle around your SUV, the weight of everything unsaid hung suffocatingly heavy in the humid Oklahoma air.
"The best things," Kate assured you, tapping her stylus against her weather tablet. "Tyler, Javi just texted. The supercell near El Reno is cycling faster than expected. We need to hook up the Doppler rig now if we’re going to catch the initiation."
"Right. Yeah," Tyler said, though his eyes didn't leave yours for a beat too long. He finally tore his gaze away, clearing his throat. "Boone, Dex, get the hitch lined up. Dani, I need you on the telemetry check."
"On it, boss," Dani said, though she shot you a lingering, worried look. As the resident keeper of everyone's secrets, Dani could practically see the thick cloud of misunderstanding settling over the lot. She knew you were putting up walls, and she knew Tyler was currently spiraling internally.
"You're chasing today?" you asked, keeping your tone light like a detached acquaintance rather than the woman who used to ride shotgun in Tyler's truck, screaming at the top of your lungs as you ran down tornadoes together.
"Yeah," Tyler said, stepping closer to your car door, his voice dropping an octave so only you could hear him over the sudden burst of activity from the crew. "A big one. Look... are you going to be around later? Where are you staying? I want to come by. Help you unpack. See the kid."
There was a raw, aching vulnerability in his eyes. He had missed your entire pregnancy. He had missed the first four years of your son's life. He had wanted so badly to be the one holding your hand through it all, but pride, fear and a deadbeat ex had built a wall between you five years ago.
Now, he wanted in.
But your defense mechanisms were already operating on overdrive. You saw Kate standing by the garage door, waiting for him, looking like the perfect, professional, brilliant partner he deserved now. You weren't a storm chaser anymore; you were a mother with a modern house, a quiet life, and a heart that couldn't handle being broken a second time by the same town.
"Don't worry about it, Tyler," you said, offering him a brilliant, entirely hollow smile as you stepped back into the driver's seat. "I actually bought a house just outside the city limits. It’s all taken care of. Professional movers handled the heavy lifting, so I'm completely set up."
Tyler’s brow furrowed, a flash of hurt crossing his features. He knew you didn't need his help. You didn't need his money. But it was the way that you didn't seem to need him at all, and that was the problem. He needs you to need him back.
"Right," Tyler then muttered as his hands rested inside the pockets of his jeans as he stiffened up, his own pride flaring to protect his aching heart. "Good. Glad you're... doing well."
"Thanks. Say goodbye to the others for me. And good luck with the cell today. Be safe," you said breezily. You then opened the car door and buckled your seatbelt as soon as you got up the driver's seat, looking back at your son. "Say goodbye to Mr. Tyler, Leo."
"Bye-bye, cowboy hat man," Leo chirped, waving his little toy.
A bittersweet, painful smile broke across Tyler’s face. "Bye, buddy. See you around."
As you pulled out of the gravel lot, watching Tyler and Kate walk side-by-side into the garage through your rearview mirror, a lone tear slipped down your cheek. You wiped it away fiercely. You weren't a loser, and you weren't going to pine over a life you chose to leave behind. You had a beautiful home, a beautiful son, and a fresh start.
But as the dark, bruised-green storm clouds began to gather on the horizon, you couldn't shake the terrifying feeling that a completely different kind of tempest was about to wreck your carefully built life.
Your son suddenly asks, "mommy? Why do you look sad, did that man do something wrong?"
You froze for a second, your hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter as you pulled the SUV out onto the smooth, asphalt highway. In the rearview mirror, you saw Leo’s big, innocent eyes looking up at you, his little brow furrowed with genuine concern.
Kids always saw right through the armor.
"Oh, sweetie, no," you said softly, forcing your voice into its usual comforting, rhythmic cadence. You reached back with one hand, gently squeezing his knee. "Mr. Tyler didn't do anything wrong. He’s a very good man. Mommy was just... remembering some old times, that's all. Sometimes seeing old friends makes you happy and a little sad all at the same time."
"Like when I miss my old sandbox?" Leo asked, tilting his head.
"Exactly like that," you smiled, relieved by his four-year-old logic. "Just like that."
You focused your eyes on the road ahead, navigating toward your new neighborhood. The drive was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rumble of distant thunder rolling across the Oklahoma plains.
When you finally pulled into the driveway of your new home, the sight of it immediately brought back a sense of grounding comfort. It was a beautiful, two-story modern house with sharp architectural lines, expansive floor-to-ceiling windows, and a perfectly manicured lawn. It looked safe. It looked stable. It looked nothing like the chaotic, dust-covered world you had just left behind at the garage.
"Wow," Leo gasped, pressing his face against the side window. "Is this our giant castle?"
"It sure is, buddy. Let's go check out your new room," you said, unbuckling your seatbelt and feeling a surge of fierce, maternal pride. You had done this. You didn't need a deadbeat ex, and you didn't need to rely on your parents' fortune to bail you out. You were making a life on your own terms.
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For the next few hours, you threw yourself into a frenzy of unpacking and organizing. You helped Leo set up his mountain of toy cars, legos and also arranged his books, watching him happily zoom his toy truck across the polished concrete floors.
By the time early evening arrived, the house felt lived-in, smelling of fresh linen and the pizza you had ordered for dinner.
But as the sun began to dip below the horizon, the sky outside the massive living room windows took on an eerie, bruised-purple hue.
A severe thunderstorm warning popped up on your phone. You walked over to the glass, looking out at the distant flashes of lightning illuminating the clouds. Down in the city, the sirens weren't wailing yet, but the wind was picking up, making the trees in your yard sway aggressively.
Instinctively, your mind raced back to the crew. Are they still out there? Did they catch the supercell? Is Tyler safe?
Before you could spiral any further, the bright headlights of a vehicle cut through the gathering gloom, sweeping across your front window. A massive, heavy-duty truck pulled into your pristine driveway.
Your heart stopped. You would recognize the roaring purr of that custom Dodge Ram engine anywhere.
It was Tyler.
A heavy knock sounded at your front door just as the first fat drops of rain began to slam against the glass. You took a deep breath, smoothing down your shirt, and opened the door.
Tyler stood on your porch. He had clearly just come straight from the chase—his cowboy hat was slightly damp, his white shirt had a smear of dark mud across the shoulder, and he looked entirely out of place against the chic, minimalist backdrop of your entryway. He looked breathless, his blue eyes burning with an intense, unreadable emotion as he looked at you.
"Tyler?" you breathed, gripping the edge of the door. "What are you doing here? The storm—"
"I needed to see you," he interrupted, his voice deep, rough, and completely stripped of his usual playful swagger. He took a half-step forward, the smell of rain and ozone rolling off him. "Dani gave me your address. And I couldn't just sit in that garage tonight pretending like everything is fine. We need to.. talk."
You wanted to laugh, "Ty. Talk about what?" You say, not getting what's it about but you also kind of knew what it was going to be about.
Tyler took off his cowboy hat, revealing slightly damp, ruffled blonde hair, and held it tightly by the brim. He looked past you for a fraction of a second, taking in the sleek lines of your entryway, the expensive-looking lighting, and the absolute peace of your home. It was a far cry from the cramped, messy truck cabs and loud diners you two used to share.
"About everything," he said, his voice dropping into that quiet, gravelly register he only used when he was genuinely frustrated. He stepped across the threshold, not waiting for an invitation this time, though he carefully wiped his muddy boots on your doormat. "About why you left. About why you didn't tell me you were coming back. And about why you looked at me today like I was some stranger who replaced you."
Your jaw tightened. Damn you, Dani, you thought bitterly. Your friend just couldn't keep her mouth shut. She had clearly picked up on your freezing reaction to Kate and fed it right to Tyler the second they got back from the chase.
To anyone else—to Dani, to Boone, to the entire state of Oklahoma—it was painfully obvious why you were upset. You were fiercely, undeniably jealous. But to you? You thought you were just being practical. You thought you were protecting your dignity. You didn't think you had a right to be jealous, because you convinced yourself that Tyler had only ever seen you as a friend and a partner.
"I didn't think I looked like anything," you lied smoothly, crossing your arms over your chest to create a physical barrier between you. You leaned against the wall, trying to project an aura of casual indifference. "I was tired, Ty. It was a long drive. And I have a four-year-old to take care of."
"Don't do that," Tyler said. He stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him from the adrenaline of the storm. He set his hat down on your minimalist console table, entirely ruining its neat aesthetic. "Don't play the 'everything's fine' game with me. Not after five years."
He looked at you, his blue eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your knees a little weak. He was spiraling, though he’d never admit why. Tyler thought he was just being a protective, loyal best friend who felt abandoned. He didn't realize that the suffocating weight in his chest wasn't righteous anger—it was pure, unadulterated jealousy over the fact that another man had gotten to build a life with you, and absolute panic that he was losing his spot by your side.
"Dani told me what you said. An 'old friend of the team'?" Tyler shook his head, a flash of genuine hurt cutting through his rugged exterior. "Is that what I am to you now? An old friend? After everything we went through? After I spent months helping you prepare for a baby, just because I couldn't bear the thought of you doing it alone?"
"You didn't have to do that, Tyler!" you snapped, your proud defense mechanisms finally cracking. The raw emotion in his voice was pushing all your buttons. "I never asked you to! I left because I had to fix my life. My ex left me broke and humiliated, and I had to go back to my parents to get my feet under me. I didn't want to drag you down into my mess!"
"You think you could ever drag me down?" Tyler yelled back, stepping even closer, his chest heaving. "I wanted to be there! I wanted to go with you! But you shut me out. You packed up your car and you drove away, you barely even looked back."
"Because you had a life here!" you cried, tears finally stinging the corners of your eyes. You gestured vaguely toward the door, toward the brewing storms outside. "Look at you now, Tyler! You're famous. You're the Tornado Wrangler. You have a massive crew, you have YouTube channels, and you have... you have Kate."
The name slipped out before you could stop it, heavy with all the unsaid heartache you’d been carrying since this afternoon.
Tyler froze. His brow furrowed, completely caught off guard by the venom in your voice when you said her name. He was so incredibly dense about his own heart that he didn't even recognize the green-eyed monster staring him in the face. He just felt an overwhelming, desperate need to clear his name, completely missing why you cared so much in the first place.
"Kate?" he repeated, his tone genuinely baffled. "What does Kate have to do with anything? She's a meteorologist. She’s helping us test a system to stabilize tornadoes. We’re working. If you think I just forgot about you—"
"Uncle? Mommy? Mommy, why are you fighting with him? But you were—"
A small, innocent voice cut right through the heavy tension in the room.
Your eyes widened in absolute panic. Leo was standing at the edge of the kitchen, holding a half-built Lego set, looking between the two of you with wide, curious eyes. He had been about to finish that sentence—about to say "...but you were always talking about him to Grandma," or "...but you were saying how you have a picture of him in your scrapbook."
"Leo!" you cut him off quickly, your voice high and strained as your heart leaped into your throat. You could feel the heat rushing to your face.
Tyler’s head snapped toward your son, his jaw dropping slightly as he tried to process what the little boy had been about to reveal. He looked from Leo back to you, his blue eyes blowing wide with a sudden, intense curiosity. "What was he going to say?"
"Nothing," you said breathlessly, your proud defense mechanisms slamming right back into place. You couldn't let him know. You couldn't let him see how much space he had occupied in your mind for the last five years while he was out becoming a superstar. "Tyler, you have to leave."
"Hey, hold on—"
"Tyler," you repeated, your voice firmer this time, though it trembled slightly. "Please. Just leave."
You didn't give him a chance to argue. You turned your back on him, instantly shifting your focus to your son to hide your flushed face. You knelt down on the polished concrete floor, forcing a warm, bright smile onto your face. "And let's get back to fixing your toys, okay? Didn't you want Mommy to help you build the big Lego castle?"
Leo’s face instantly lit up. He nodded with a joyful smile, completely forgetting the heavy adult conversation he had just interrupted. "Yes! The castle with the giant tower!"
"Then let's go do that," you murmured, gently taking his small hand.
Tyler stood frozen by the console table, his damp cowboy hat still in his hand. He looked entirely out of place in your sleek, modern home, but the frustration rolling off him was palpable. He wanted to demand answers, he wanted to know what Leo meant, and he wanted to shake you until you admitted why you were acting so fiercely protective and angry. But seeing you there on the floor, focusing entirely on being a mother, he knew he couldn't push any further tonight.
With a tight, frustrated breath, Tyler gripped his hat, turned on his heel and walked out into the pouring Oklahoma rain as the heavy click of the front door signals his departure.
You let out a breath you felt like you’d been holding for five years, resting your forehead against Leo's small shoulder for just a second before heading toward the bedroom. You had managed to protect your secret, but as the thunder rattled the glass windows of your beautiful new house, you knew this storm was far from over.
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The heavy metal door of the garage slammed shut, the loud BANG echoing over the steady hum of the rain and the classic country track playing softly from Boone’s speakers.
The entire crew stopped what they were doing.
Tyler stood in the doorway, soaked from the brief walk between his truck and the building. He didn’t even bother to shake the water from his cowboy hat. His jaw was clenched so tight a muscle was twitching in his cheek, and his blue eyes were dark, burning with a mix of fierce frustration and absolute confusion. He looked like a man who had just run headfirst into an EF5 tornado and had no idea how he’d survived.
Dani, who was sitting on the hood of a refurbished Scout with a grease rag in her lap, didn't even look surprised. She just raised an eyebrow.
"So—what did you two talk about?" she asked, her tone entirely too casual for the storm Tyler was bringing inside.
Tyler stormed over to the workbench, tossing his damp hat down onto a pile of blueprints with a heavy thud. He didn't answer her question. Instead, he leaned his palms flat against the wooden surface, glaring directly at Dani.
"What did you tell her, Dani?" Tyler demanded, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous rumble.
"I gave her a hug, told her she looked great, and gave her the address to her new place," Dani said, completely unfazed by his glare. "Which, by the way, I only gave to you because I thought you’d act like a normal human being. Clearly, I over-estimated you."
"She thinks I had forgotten about her," Tyler snapped, placing his hands on his waist.
Then he turned around, pacing the length of the concrete floor like a caged animal. "She stands in the middle of this giant, fancy, modern living room—looking like she doesn’t need a single damn thing from anybody and she looks at me like I'm a traitor. She also brought up Kate!"
Across the garage, Boone stopped editing his footage, his eyes widening. Lily slowly lowered her drone controller. Even Kate, who was sitting in the corner going over radar data with Javi, raised her head, looking entirely bewildered.
"She brought me up?" Kate asked, pointing her finger at herself, at her own chest. "Why?"
"Because she thinks you two are..." Dani trailed off, gesturing vaguely between Kate and Tyler. "I don't know! Partners!" Tyler frowns, "In every sense of the word. She told me she was 'happy for us' and implied that she didn't seem to fit into my business anymore."
"Business?" Boone let out a sharp, breathless laugh, quickly covering his mouth when Tyler shot him a death glare. "Sorry, boss. It's just... you're a genius with weather, but you are legally blind when it comes to women."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Tyler growled, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "We were partners for years. We went through hell together when her damned ex bailed. I slept on a crappy lawn chair in her apartment for a week just to make sure she was eating right before she moved away! I am her best friend for a year. Why is she shutting me out all of a sudden?
Dani groaned, tossing her grease rag onto the hood of the truck and sliding off. She walked over to Tyler, looking up at him with pure exasperation.
"Tyler. Listen to me very carefully," Dani said, tapping a finger against his chest. "Anyone with working eyes can see what's happening. She saw you. She saw the guy she hasn't seen in five years, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Kate. So she must have been fiercely, undeniably jealous. She probably thinks she lost her place in your life."
Tyler blinked, his brow furrowing in genuine, absolute bafflement. "Jealous? Of Kate? Why would she be jealous of Kate? I told her that Kate is just my partner for the project and that she's helping us."
"Because she has feelings for you, you absolute idiot!" Dani snapped as she threw her hands up.
"No, she doesn't," Everyone groaned as Tyler fired back instantly, his defense mechanisms kicking in. He then shook his head, running a hand through his damp blonde hair. "She’s never said anything like that or felt anything like that for me. She thinks of me as a brother. A friend. And If she had feelings for me, why would she pack up and leave five years ago and tell me she's 'all taken care of'?"
"Because she's proud of what she built for herself and for her son!" Dani yelled back. "And because she thinks you only see her as a friend too!"
Tyler then went quiet, his mind suddenly racing back to the living room. He remembered the flush on your face, the defensive way you had crossed your arms, and the sharp, venomous bite in your voice when you said Kate's name. It hadn't felt like a friend being protective. It had felt... personal. Deeply personal.
And then, his thoughts hit a brick wall.
Leo's little voice echoed in Tyler's ears. The way your eyes had gone wide with sheer slight panic. The way you had practically screamed your son's name to cut him off before he could finish that sentence.
Tyler’s posture shifted. The anger faded, replaced by a sudden, intense focus. He looked at Dani as his voice dropped into a quiet whisper.
"The kid," Tyler muttered.
"What about Leo?" Dani asked, her brow furrowing.
"We were arguing, and Leo walked in," Tyler said, his eyes scanning the floor as he pieced it together. "He looked at me, then he looked at her, and he asked, 'Mommy, why are you fighting with him? But you were—' and then she cut him off. She looked like she’d just seen a ghost, Dani. She kicked me out of the house right then and there."
The garage went completely silent. Boone, Lily, and Dani all exchanged a massive, knowing look.
"What was he going to say?" Tyler asked, looking around at his crew, his voice carrying a rare, vulnerable ache. "What has she been telling that kid about me?"
"What if you were the dad?"
The voice cut through the heavy silence of the garage like a lightning strike.
Everyone snapped their heads around. Javi was leaning against the breakroom counter, casually nursing a cup of lukewarm coffee, looking entirely too proud of his own sudden theory.
Before the words could even fully settle in the air, Kate lunged forward and brought the flat of her hand down squarely against the back of his head with a loud smack.
"Read the room, idiot!" she muttered fiercely under her breath, glaring at him with a look that could kill.
Javi winced, rubbing the back of his neck as his mouth instantly formed a perfect, silent 'O' of realization. He looked at Tyler’s face, swallowed hard, and slowly retreated a step behind Kate, suddenly wishing he could blend into the drywall.
But the damage was done. The words were out there, hanging in the humid air of the garage, heavier than a low-pressure system before an outbreak.
Tyler didn't move. He didn't blink. He just stood there, his hands still resting flat on the workbench, his knuckles turning entirely white.
The dad.
The timeline instantly fractured and reassembled itself in Tyler’s mind. Five years ago. He remembered the exact night she had come over to his place, sobbing, her world shattered because her ex had packed his bags and denied everything. He remembered holding her on his couch for hours while she cried into his shirt. He remembered the sheer panic in her eyes, the pride that kept her from asking her wealthy family for help right away, and the way she had stubbornly insisted she had to handle it alone.
Tyler had stayed by her side through those first terrifying months. He had bought the groceries, checked her tire pressure, and secretly stayed up late researching prenatal vitamins. He had done it because he was deeply, hopelessly in love with her—and because he thought he was just being the ultimate best friend.
But he had never touched her back then. He had been too afraid of ruining what they had, too respectful of her situation, too much of a coward to tell her how he really felt.
"No," Tyler breathed, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain drumming against the metal roof. He let out a sharp, hollow laugh, though there was absolutely no humor in his eyes. "No, Javi. That’s impossible. We never... she was with him before everything went south. It doesn't work like that." We never slept, was he wanted to directly say in front of everyone. But he felt like a coward. Then— "He doesn't mean biologically, you giant cowboy linebacker," Dani said, her voice dropping into something incredibly soft, almost pitiful. She took a step closer to him, crossing her arms.
"Look, think about it. What if he wasn't going to say 'the man who is my dad'? What if he was going to say 'the man you said you wished was my dad'?"
Tyler’s chest rose and fell in a harsh, ragged breath.
Mommy, why are you fighting with him? But you were—
The way you had practically thrown your body between Tyler and your son's words.
"Oh. She has a picture of you, Tyler," Lily reckons, talking from the corner as she looks up from her drone calibration. "Remember that old polaroid Boone took of the two of you after the Enid storm? The one where you're both covered in mud, laughing? Where you were wearing that stupid foam finger?"
Tyler’s head snapped toward Lily. "What about it?"
"When she left, she asked me if she could keep it," Lily murmured. "I saw her tuck it right into her wallet. Come on you guys. A four-year-old kid doesn't just randomly say something like that out of thin air, Tyler. He probably knows who you are already because of how she’s been probably talking about you. Now you're telling us she doesn't feel anything for you?"
Tyler felt the room tilt. The blind spot he’d had in his own heart for half a decade was suddenly blown wide open, leaving him completely exposed.
He hadn't just lost his partner five years ago. He had walked away from the only woman who held his heart, leaving her to raise a child alone while she secretly carried a torch for a man she thought had replaced her. And tonight, he had stormed into her beautiful, quiet sanctuary, yelled at her, and made her feel like a stranger in his life.
"I'm an idiot," Tyler whispered, the realization hitting him like a physical blow to the stomach.
"We've been trying to tell you that for three years, boss," Boone said, his usual hyperactive energy completely gone, replaced by a supportive, serious nod.
Tyler didn't waste another second. He grabbed his damp cowboy hat off the table, shoving it onto his head as he turned back toward the garage door.
"Where are you going?" Dani called out. "It's pouring out there and she just kicked you out!"
"I don't care," Tyler barked, his hand already throwing the heavy metal door open. The cold Oklahoma rain sprayed across his face, but he didn't even flinch. His truck keys were already in his hand. "She can kick me out a hundred more times. I'm going back."
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
"Alright, we're done here," you muttered to yourself, wiping a stray bit of dust off the sleek, minimalist coffee table and tossing the microfiber cloth onto the kitchen marblecounter.
The house was finally immaculate. Every box was emptied as the modern furniture was perfectly arranged, and how the quiet luxury of the space should have brought you peace. Instead, the silence felt incredibly heavy, vibrating with the leftover echo of the shouting match you’d just had with Tyler a while ago.
"Leo—" you called out, wiping your palms on your jeans as you walked into the living room.
The words died in your throat.
Leo wasn't playing with his Legos anymore. He was standing on the plush area rug, his small hands pressed flat against the floor-to-ceiling glass window, staring out into the dark, storm-swept yard.
Outside, the Oklahoma sky had completely opened up. The rain was coming down in sheets, blurring the streetlights and whipping the trees into a frenzy. But right in the middle of your pristine gravel driveway, illuminated by the amber glow of your porch light, stood a shadow.
A massive, unmistakable shadow.
Your heart skipped a violent beat. You stepped closer, your eyes widening as you took in the sight of those broad, masculine shoulders, the rugged posture and the cowboy hat pulled low against the downpour. He was standing right outside his running Dodge Ram truck, entirely motionless, getting absolutely soaked to the bone but still looked handsome.
Wait. I know who that man is...
"Tyler?" the name breathed out of you, a mix of sheer disbelief and sudden panic. "Mommy it's uncle Tyler?"
Before you could even think, your feet were moving. You sprinted across the polished concrete floor, threw open the heavy front door, and stepped out onto the sheltered porch. The freezing spray of the rain hit your face instantly.
"What the hell?!" you yelled over the roar of the wind, your voice laced with exasperation and a terrifying surge of worry. "Tyler! Are you insane? Get inside!"
Tyler didn't move for a second. He just stood there in the pouring rain, his white t-shirt plastered to his chest, water streaming down his jawline. But when he looked up and met your eyes, the usual playful, cocky "Tornado Wrangler" swagger was completely gone. His blue eyes were burning with a fierce, raw intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.
He didn't say a word. He just started walking toward your porch, his heavy boots crunching against the wet gravel, eating up the distance between you like a man on a mission.
"Tyler. Look at the weather. So please, get inside now," you pleaded, your voice cracking slightly as the wind whipped around the porch, spraying cold rain across your arms. Then you turned to look at your son, "Leo, please go to your room. Mommy has to talk to uncle Tyler." Leo nods, a face of a child who doesn't know anything about what's happening right now has taken his toy truck, imitating the engine sounds of a truck, running to his room.
Meanwhile, Tyler didn't budge. He just stopped right in front of you, the rain pouring off the brim of his cowboy hat like a curtain between you.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that easily cut through the roar of the storm.
"Tell you what? Tyler, you're soaking wet, freezing. Just—"
Tyler interrupted, saying your name with a weight and a tenderness that completely knocked the breath out of your lungs. He stepped up onto the porch, towering over you, his chest heaving under his soaked shirt. "You know, saying your name used to be my favorite part of the day." He confessed, continuing as you just looked at him with an almost teary eyes. "And then you left. I had to learn how to stop saying it. I had to pretend like I was fine after you left."
You turn around, stepping back into the warmth of the entryway of the house as your heart hammered against your ribs. "Ty, please, we– we already fought about this—" you stammered as you felt how his eyes were locked entirely on you.
Then he says your name, "we didn't fight about the right things," he said, following you inside as you started to walk towards the kitchen, leaving a trail of water on your pristine floors. Because all of a sudden, your throat felt dry. "Dani told me, okay? And Lily. They told me about the picture. And Leo... I already knew what he was going to say before you cut him off."
Your face went entirely pale. The walls that you had built over the last five years suddenly felt like glass, cracking under the sheer force of his gaze. You turned around as you swallowed hard, backing up until your hips hit the kitchen counter.
"He wasn't going to say anything important," you lied, though your voice trembled so badly it betrayed you instantly. "He's four, Tyler. He mixes up his words."
"He was going to say I'm the man you always talk about," Tyler whispered, closing the distance between you until you could feel the icy dampness radiating off his clothes and the fierce, burning heat of his breath. "Ain't he?"
Then he reached out his large trembling hands hovering just inches from your face, holding himself from wanting to touch you but terrified that you'd pull away from the touch. "If you thought I replaced you, if you thought I didn't care... why did you keep my picture?"
"Because I couldn't forget you!" you finally snapped, the confession tearing out of your throat, raw and agonizing. Tears spilled over your eyelashes, hot against your cheeks. "Is that what you wanted to hear? I lived in my parents' house for five years, completely stable enough to give my son a life and completely taken care of while I would always feel miserable every time I look at things that reminds me of you, and how I wished that you were there for me while I gave birth to my son! But you were the infamous tornado wrangler, and I was just a single mom. I didn't think I had a right to your life anymore!"
Tyler stared at you, his blue eyes blowing wide as the truth finally crashed over him. The dense, blind boy from the garage was officially gone. It was now a man looking at the only woman he had ever loved and just realizing thatshe had been hurting for the same exact reason he had.
"S'that it?," Tyler breathed, a ragged, emotional laugh escaping his lips. He didn't hesitate this time. He stepped firmly into your space, his large, warm hands coming up to cupping your face, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. "You think I care about a title? You think I care about some stupid YouTube channel? I built all of that because I was trying to run away from how empty the world felt without you in it."
He leaned down, his forehead resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet spaces of your modern kitchen.
"I don't just want to be an old friend of the team," Tyler whispered fiercely against your skin. "I want to be here. With you. With Leo. I'm not leaving this house until you understand that you could never, ever be nothing to me."
You both froze, your lips inches apart until the sudden burst of high-stakes romantic tension snapping like a broken power line in a storm.
"No kissy!"
The small, stern voice echoed from the hallway, completely shattering the heavy, emotional atmosphere.
Tyler’s eyes flew open, a sudden, breathless laugh bubbling up from his chest as he slowly lifted his head. You blinked, your face instantly flushing a brilliant crimson as you looked over Tyler’s broad shoulder.
Leo was standing at the edge of the kitchen, his tiny hands planted firmly on his hips. He was wearing his favorite cartoon pajamas, his little brow furrowed in deep, four-year-old disapproval. He looked at Tyler, then at you, nodding righteously.
"Grandma says kissing is for when people are married, or if it's on the cheek," Leo lectured solemnly, holding up a single finger to emphasize his point. "And cowboy truck man is still too wet. He's gonna get the floor sticky."
A choked sound escaped your throat as you hid your burning face in your hands. Leave it to your son to completely ruin the most profoundly romantic moment of your entire life with your mother's strict etiquette rules.
Tyler, however, didn't seem bothered at all. In fact, the sheer adoration in his eyes as he looked at Leo made your heart do a violent flip. He slowly let his hands drop from your face, though his thumb brushed your jawline one last time before he turned around, kneeling down on the polished concrete floor so he was at eye level with your son.
Even soaked to the bone and dripping onto your pristine floor, Tyler looked completely at home.
"You're right, buddy," Tyler said, his deep voice carrying a warm, incredibly gentle rumble as he smiled up at Leo. "My bad. Strict no-kissy rules. And I am definitely making a mess of your mommy's floors."
Leo looked at the small puddle forming around Tyler’s boots, then looked up at Tyler's face. The little boy's stern expression began to melt, replaced by that familiar, curious wonder. He took a few hesitant steps forward, dragging his half-built Lego castle with him.
"Are you gonna stay and help with the tower now?" Leo asked softly, peeking out from behind his toys. "Mommy said we were gonna build the big one but it was too hard."
Tyler’s blue eyes flicked up to you for a split second—searching, asking for permission, checking to see if the walls you had built were truly down. You looked at him, the rain still drumming against the glass, and for the first time in five years, the heavy weight in your chest felt light. You gave him a small, genuine smile, nodding your head.
"Yeah, buddy," Tyler murmured, his voice thick with a sudden rush of emotion as he looked back at your son. He carefully pulled off his damp cowboy hat and set it on the floor beside him, completely uncaring about his soaked clothes. "I'm gonna stay, yeah? Think I'm pretty good at building towers unlike your mommy." he winks at Leo, hearing his usual cocky tone made you roll your eyes.
“Are we out of the woods? That night you were talking…”
Piano:
Yoyok x long story short
“You’re on your own, kid. Yeah, you can face this. You’re on your own, kid, you always have been — long story short, I survived.”
“Past me, I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things. Your nemeses will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing. And he's passing by rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky, and he feels like home; if the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go — From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes, I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this, I hosted parties and starved my body like I'd be saved by a perfect kiss. The jokes weren't funny, I took the money. My friends from home don't know what to say. I looked around in a blood-soaked gown, and I saw something they can't take away.”
I'd start out by, like, talking to them about how we're so excited 'cause we just got nominated for a Grammy together. So, we thought, "What better than to play a little song for you now." And then I'll be like, "Gracie, come out."
US. x OUT OF THE WOODS
Taylor Swift: The End of an Era | Episode Five: Marjorie
The Eras Tour — Toronto, Canada (Night 3) | November 16, 2024
Warnings: pregnancy, crying, but mainly just a bunch of fluff
The one where you find yourself pregnant with Jake's baby, and before you can run to Jake, you run to your best friend.
---
Jake speeds through the door of your shared home, the concern still visible on his face. It hadn't left since you texted last.
The whole car ride home, every thought imaginable ran through his mind. Why were you avoiding him? Were you going to leave him? Did he do something?
He threw his keys in the little tray on the island, he didn't bother taking his boots off.
"Baby?" he spoke into the quiet home, peeking into every room on the main level in hopes to see your face. He made his way up the stairs and saw glimpse of a sight that only made his heart worry more.
You were sitting up in bed, eyes puffy and face red. The lights weren't on in the room, the only light was the glow from the en suite bathroom lights being on.
Jake hurriedly made his way over to the bed and sat next to you. He pulled you in close, not saying a word.
You two sat like that for a moment, but he broke it with the question you were dreading to answer. "What's going on, darling?"
The moment was soft, but the worry hung in the room like a tension. The question was no louder than a whisper. His thumb rubbing your cheek was no heavier than a feather.
You took a deep breath to answer, but the words stuck to the back of your throat. Like they didn't want to escape your lips. You were scared. What if he doesn't want kids? What if he runs from me?
You began to cry again, the thoughts encapsulating your mind. Without thinking, without words, you motioned your hand to the bathroom. Jake gave you a confused look as he wiped your tears and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
He stood up and made his way to the bathroom, looking around for a moment before he caught a glimpse of the white stick sitting on the counter.
Pregnant. You were pregnant with his baby.
Jake stood looking at the the test, thoughts racing so fast he couldn't form one. But the feeling in his gut was clear: he was excited.
From the bed, you couldn't tell what he was thinking. It had started to feel as if he was standing at the bathroom counter for an hour.
Without a word, Jake came back over to you and pulled you into his chest, the silence remaining in the room. You sat like that for a few minutes before you finally spoke up.
"We haven't even really talked about kids," the words came out, barely above a whisper, "if you want to leave I understand. I don't even know if you want to be with me forever, how can I have your baby if you don't want me?"
He shifted, pushing you away from his chest, his hands cupping your cheeks.
He wiped the tears from your eyes. "Baby, what the hell are you talking about? I'm not leaving you. I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life." He took a deep breath, an amused huff escaping him. "I mean, I figured kids would be in the picture some day, but right now, there's nothing that could make me happier right now. We will figure it out."
You looked into his eyes, really looking at him. Searching for any ounce of doubt, fear, or lies. You couldn't find a single thing.
He pressed his forehead to yours as you sighed in relief. You grabbed his hands and laced your fingers together. It felt like the weight of the world had fallen off of your shoulders. Like you could breathe again.
"I didn't know how you would feel," you started, "so worried about it that I didn't even take the time to process how I feel."
He sat up, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he shifted. "And now? What are you feeling?"
You looked at your intertwined hands, then up to the bathroom, knowing what was sitting on that counter. "Good. I feel good."
A smile lit up on Jake's face from ear to ear as he pulled you into his chest again. "We're going to have a baby."
-
The night went on, but the gentleness of the moment didn't escape. Dinner had been made, sweatpants had been put on. Jake didn't go to the Hard Deck that night, as "something came up", per his text to the squad.
Back in bed you and Jake were, your head on his chest, his hand rubbing up and down your back. The silence that filled the room was delicate, soft.
Both of you were thinking about the same thing: even through the fear, you both couldn't be happier to be starting a family.
But there was one more thought both of you were having: you knew you wanted to marry Jake, and Jake knew he needed to go home and get his mom's ring.
summary; Jake gets in an accident and, for the first time, he’s forced to face that no matter how much Ivy loves him, no matter how much he loves you… he is optional on paper.
word count; 3.2k
warnings; angst, talk about injuries, hospitals
a/n; idk why i'm enjoying writing angst so much, but here's another angsty piece! this one hurt but also, my apologies for any inaccuracies, my knowledge on these situations isn't wide haha. let me know what you think <3
masterlist // series masterlist
Something was wrong.
Jake felt it before any warning light came on, before the cockpit started screaming at him. The jet shuddered beneath his hands, a vibration that didn’t belong, that crawled up through the stick and settled deep in his bones. He frowned, running through the checklist automatically, muscle memory kicking in as the engine coughed once— then again.
“Come on,” he muttered, adjusting, compensating.
The response was sluggish. Wrong.
Then the warning alarm blared, sharp and insistent, and the panel lit up like a damn Christmas tree.
Engine failure.
Jake swore under his breath, jaw tightening as he radioed it in, voice steady despite the sudden spike of adrenaline. Training exercise. Controlled airspace. He’d handled worse. He always did. He tried to coax the jet, working angles and altitude, calculating options in real time—but the aircraft wasn’t listening anymore. The controls went heavy, then frighteningly loose, the nose dipping harder than he liked.
“Eject, eject,” crackled through his headset.
Jake hesitated for half a second too long — pure instinct, stubborn as hell — before reality slammed in. This wasn’t a fix-it-in-the-air situation. He took a sharp breath, braced, and pulled the handle.
The canopy blew. The force ripped through him like a punch to the chest, violent and unforgiving, snapping his body back as the seat launched free. Wind roared past him, stealing the air from his lungs, and then— weightlessness.
For one brief, terrifying second, there was nothing.
Then the parachute deployed.
Hard.
The jerk yanked his shoulder violently, pain exploding through his arm as something popped— white-hot and immediate. He cried out despite himself, teeth gritted as the chute twisted, lines tangling mid-deployment. The canopy didn’t fully catch the air; instead, it spun, dragging him sideways, disorienting him as the ground rushed up far too fast.
“Shit—shit—” His voice was ripped away by the wind.
He tried to correct, to stabilize, but the parachute fought him, pulling him off-center. The horizon tilted, sky bleeding into earth, and Jake had just enough time to think this is going to hurt—
Before he hit.
The impact knocked the breath clean out of him. His body slammed into the ground at the wrong angle, ribs compressing violently as his shoulder took the brunt of it, followed by his head snapping back against the earth. Pain detonated everywhere at once— sharp, crushing, overwhelming— and then the world went dark.
When he came to, it was only for a moment.
Sound filtered in first: muffled voices, boots crunching nearby, someone shouting his name. His chest burned every time he tried to breathe, like his ribs were on fire, and his head throbbed with a deep, nauseating ache. He tried to open his eyes, but the effort was too much. Darkness pulled him back under before he could make sense of anything.
He didn’t hear the medics arrive.
Didn’t feel them cutting away his gear, strapping him down, securing his neck.
Didn’t know someone was saying his injuries weren’t immediately life-threatening, that he was lucky— bruised ribs, fractured shoulder, possible concussion.
All Jake knew was the faint, instinctive pull in his chest as consciousness slipped away again, a restless, aching need to go home.
To you.
To Ivy.
But his body betrayed him, sinking back into unconsciousness as the helicopter blades thundered overhead, carrying him farther away from the life he didn’t yet know he was about to scare half to death.
—
The call came in the quietest moment.
You were on the floor of Ivy’s bedroom, legs folded beneath you, a coloring book spread open between the two of you. She was humming softly to herself, tongue poking out in concentration as she carefully filled in the wings of a butterfly—pink, then purple, then pink again, very precise about it. You were working on a house beside her, letting her choose the colors even though the roof had already been declared “definitely green, Mommy, houses can have green roofs.”
Your phone buzzed somewhere behind you.
You almost ignored it.
Almost.
Something about the sound—too sharp, too insistent—made your chest tighten before you even reached for it. When you glanced at the screen and saw an unfamiliar number, your stomach dropped. Still, you answered, pressing the phone to your ear as Ivy looked up at you, eyebrows already knitting together.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end was calm. Professional. Too careful.
They asked if you were Jake Seresin’s emergency contact.
You said yes, your voice already unsteady.
Then they said the word crash.
It didn’t feel real. Not at first. Your brain snagged on it, like it didn’t know where to file it, like it belonged to someone else’s life. Training exercise. Ejection. He was alive. Stable. Being transported.
Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears.
“I—I’ll be there,” you said quickly, cutting in before they could give you any more details you weren’t sure you could handle. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
You hung up before your hands could start shaking badly enough to drop the phone.
The room was suddenly very quiet.
Ivy was watching you, crayon paused mid-air, her little face scrunched in that way it always got when she sensed something was off. She didn’t speak right away. She just studied you, eyes flicking from your face to the phone still clenched in your hand.
“Mommy?” she asked softly. “What happened?”
You swallowed hard and forced yourself to look at her, to smooth your expression even though it felt like your chest had caved in. You set the phone down and scooted closer, resting a hand on her knee.
“Sweetheart,” you said gently, choosing each word like it might break if you didn’t handle it right, “Jake had an accident at work.”
Her eyes widened immediately.
“Like—like a fall?” she asked, panic already creeping into her voice.
“Something like that,” you said, nodding. “He’s hurt, but… he’s alive. They took him to the hospital, and I need to go see him.”
She was quiet for exactly half a second.
Then she stood up.
“I’m coming.”
You blinked. “Ivy—”
“I’m coming with you,” she said again, firmer this time, tiny hands curling into the hem of her shirt. “Jake’s my Jake.”
Your heart cracked clean open.
“Ivy, honey, hospitals can be a little scary,” you tried softly. “There might be lots of machines, and—”
“I don’t care,” she interrupted, eyes shining. “He’s not mad at me, right?”
The question hit you like a punch.
“No,” you said immediately, kneeling in front of her and taking her face gently between your hands. “No, baby. Of course not. This has nothing to do with you.”
She nodded, but her lip wobbled anyway. “I wanna see him. Please.”
You didn’t have the heart to say no.
You pulled her into a tight hug, breathing in the familiar scent of crayons and shampoo and home, and nodded against her hair. “Okay. We’ll go together.”
Everything after that felt rushed and unreal—slipping on your shoes with clumsy fingers, helping Ivy with hers as she fumbled, grabbing your keys and bag without really knowing what you’d put inside. Ivy held your hand the entire way to the car, her grip tight, knuckles white.
The drive to the hospital was a blur of red lights and pounding thoughts.
You replayed every goodbye, every kiss on the forehead, every see you later like it might have been the wrong one. Ivy sat quietly in the backseat, unusually still, hugging her stuffed bunny to her chest and staring out the window.
Neither of you spoke.
All you could think was that this was the call you’d been dreading since the day Jake put you down as his emergency contact—since the day you realized how much space he took up in your life.
And now all you wanted was to see him.
To know he was really there.
Alive.
The first thing you notice once you arrive is how the hospital smells like antiseptic and something metallic, sharp enough to sting the back of your throat.
Everything is too bright. Too loud. Too fast.
You give Jake’s name at the desk with a voice that barely sounds like yours, your fingers curled tight around Ivy’s hand like if you let go she might float away. The woman behind the counter types, nods, looks up again—professional, neutral, practiced.
“Yes, he was brought in a little while ago,” she says. “He’s stable. But I’m afraid only immediate family is allowed back right now.”
The words don’t land all at once. They scatter.
“I’m sorry?” you ask, blinking. “I’m his emergency contact. I just—he asked for me. And her.” You gesture to Ivy without looking down, because if you do, you might lose it.
The woman’s smile tightens, sympathetic but immovable. “Spouses. Parents. Legal guardians only.”
You feel your chest hollow out.
“I understand policy,” you say carefully, because Ivy is right there, because you refuse to raise your voice. “But he put me down as his emergency contact. He would want us there.”
“I’m really sorry,” she repeats. “I can let you know if there’s a change.”
You stand there for a second too long, like your body forgot how to move.
Then you feel it—small fingers tightening around yours.
You look down.
Ivy is pressed into your side now, her little shoulders drawn in, her face tilted up toward you. Her eyes are glossy, already spilling over, tears tracking silently down her cheeks. She isn’t loud. She isn’t dramatic.
She’s just… breaking.
“Mommy,” she whispers, like the word itself might crack if she says it too loudly. “Did I do somethin’ bad?”
Your heart shatters.
“No,” you say instantly, dropping down in front of her, hands coming up to cup her face. “No, baby. No. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She sniffles, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. “Is Jakey mad at me?”
God.
“No,” you say again, firmer, even as your own eyes burn. “He’s not mad. He loves you so much.”
“Then why can’t we see him?” she asks, voice trembling. “He doesn’t wanna see us?”
The question is so small. So earnest.
And there is no answer that makes sense to a five-and-a-half-year-old.
You pull her into your chest, holding her tight as she presses her face into your shoulder, her quiet tears soaking into your shirt. You rock her gently, right there in the middle of the waiting area, trying to keep your own sobs silent so you don’t scare her more.
“He’s hurt,” you murmur into her hair. “They’re just… helping him right now.”
She nods against you, but she doesn’t really understand. How could she? All she knows is that the person who always comes when she calls isn’t coming now.
You sit with her in one of the hard plastic chairs, Ivy curled into your side like she’s trying to make herself smaller, her bunny clutched tight to her chest. She watches every nurse that walks past with wide, hopeful eyes, like maybe one of them will say his name.
Minutes stretch. Then more.
Time feels cruel here—thick and slow and merciless.
Every so often, Ivy sniffles and asks another quiet question.
“Is he still sleepin’?”
“Does his head hurt?”
“He always comes when I get hurt, can we tell him I’m sorry?”
Each one cuts deeper than the last.
You answer every time. Soft. Steady. Even when your own heart feels like it’s caving in.
You wonder if Jake knows you’re here. If he’s alone. If he’s okay.
And the worst part — the part you don’t let yourself say out loud — is the thought that keeps looping in your head: What if something happens and he never knows we came?
You press a kiss into Ivy’s hair and hold her a little tighter.
All you can do now is wait.
—
He comes back to himself in pieces.
First it’s pain—sharp, deep, everywhere. A burning ache in his ribs every time he tries to breathe too fully. A pounding behind his eyes that makes the light feel like a personal insult. His shoulder screams when he shifts, and the groan that leaves his mouth sounds rough, unfamiliar.
Then comes the fog.
Voices drift in and out. Beeping. The faint rustle of fabric. Someone says his name, slow and careful, like they’re testing how much of him is actually there.
“Lieutenant Seresin? Jake? Can you hear me?”
His eyelids feel like concrete, but he forces them open anyway. The ceiling swims above him. White. Too white. Hospital.
Something cold settles in his stomach.
The last thing he remembers is the chute fighting him—twisting, pulling wrong—and then the ground rushing up way too fast.
He swallows, throat dry. “—where is she?”
The nurse leans closer. “Easy. You’ve been in an accident. You’re safe. You had a hard landing, but you’re stable.”
Jake barely hears her.
“Where are they?” he rasped again.
The nurse blinked. “Who?”
“My girls,” he said, voice stronger now despite the ache. “My family.”
She hesitated. “Your partner and her child are in the waiting area. Visiting is limited to immediate family—”
“They are my family,” Jake snapped, trying to push himself upright and immediately regretting it as pain tore through his side. He clenched his teeth, breathing hard. “Go get them.”
The nurse put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Sir—”
“I don’t care about policy,” he said, eyes fierce despite the weakness in his body. “I want them here. Now.”
Something in his tone must’ve convinced her, because after a moment, she nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Jake exhales shakily, eyes burning. He stares at the door like he can will it open, like if he concentrates hard enough you’ll walk through it with Ivy clutched to your side, brows pinched with worry, relief crashing into your face when you see him awake.
He’s never felt this helpless before.
Minutes later—maybe five, maybe ten, time is useless right now—the door opens again.
And there you are.
Your eyes meet his from across the room and everything inside him breaks loose.
You look wrecked. Pale. Eyes red-rimmed. Holding Ivy close like you’re afraid she’ll disappear if you loosen your grip even a little. And Ivy—God—she’s tucked into your side, clutching her bunny, eyes wide and shiny and fixed on him like she’s afraid he’ll vanish again.
Jake doesn’t care about the cracked ribs when he lifts his head a little. Doesn’t care about the pounding in his skull when his throat tightens.
“Hey,” he manages, voice rough.
Ivy gasps.
She slips out of your arms and crosses the room as fast as her little legs will carry her, stopping short only because the bed and wires and machines confuse her. Tears spill over immediately.
“Jakey,” she sobs. “I thought you didn’t wanna see me.”
Something inside Jake caves in completely.
“No,” he says instantly, shaking his head. “Hey—no, Ivybug. Never. C’mere.” He lifts his uninjured arm, wincing, beckoning her closer. “I was just… sleepin’ too hard.”
She climbs up carefully, curling into his side like she’s done a thousand times before, her small hands clutching his shirt like an anchor. He presses his lips into her hair, breathing her in like oxygen.
“I’m right here,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”
Your hand comes to rest on his chest then, warm and grounding, and when he looks at you, his eyes soften completely.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “They shouldn’t have kept you out there.”
You shake your head, swallowing hard, but your eyes say everything your mouth doesn’t.
Later, the room is quiet in the way only hospitals ever are—machines humming softly, lights dimmed low, the world narrowed down to what fits inside four white walls.
Ivy is asleep on Jake’s chest.
She’s curled into him carefully, instinctively avoiding his injured side, her small body rising and falling with his shallow breaths. One arm is thrown across his sternum, her cheek tucked just beneath his collarbone, bunny trapped between them. She’d fought sleep at first, eyes heavy but stubborn, until exhaustion won. Now she’s out cold, lashes fanned against her cheeks, mouth parted slightly.
Jake hasn’t moved in almost an hour.
He shifted once—just enough to make room for you to sit beside the bed—but beyond that, he’s stayed perfectly still, like any movement might break the spell and send her drifting away again. His uninjured hand rests protectively at her back, fingers splayed, anchoring her there.
You tell him, softly, that he should rest.
He barely hears you.
His eyes are fixed on Ivy, memorizing her the way he always does when something scares him. Like if he looks long enough, hard enough, he can lock this moment into place forever. Every so often, his gaze flickers to you—just to make sure you’re still there too.
You sniffle before you can stop yourself.
It’s quiet, but he hears it immediately.
His eyes lift, sharp despite the pain, concern wiping away the softness. “Hey,” he murmurs, voice low and gentle. “Hey… baby.”
You shake your head quickly, scrubbing at your cheeks. “I’m fine,” you whisper, even as another tear slips free. “I don’t want you worrying about me. You’re the one in the hospital.”
Too late.
Jake’s attention is already fully on you, his brows knitting together, heart aching in a way no cracked rib ever could. “C’mere,” he says softly, like he can pull the hurt out of you just by saying the word.
You swallow, breath hitching. “I was so scared,” you admit finally. “When they called… and then when they wouldn’t let us see you. Being told we weren’t family—” Your voice breaks. “It felt like being erased. Like none of this mattered.”
Jake exhales slowly, jaw tightening.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I know.”
His eyes drop back to Ivy for a moment, thumb brushing gently over her shoulder, grounding himself before he looks at you again. “That part?” he continues, voice rougher now. “That scared the hell outta me too.”
You look at him, waiting.
“I love you,” he says simply. “Both of you. More than anything I’ve ever had. And today just—” He swallows hard. “Today proved how fast it could all be taken away. No questions. No say. Just… rules. Paperwork. Titles.”
He lets out a shaky breath. “Everything I love is technically borrowed. And I don’t know how to live with that.”
Your heart twists.
You reach for his hand, careful of the IV, threading your fingers through his. “You’re not borrowed to us,” you tell him firmly. “You never have been.”
He looks at you then—really looks—and something in his chest cracks wide open.
“I don’t want to ever hear someone tell you you don’t belong again,” he says. “I don’t want Ivy growing up thinking she has to ask permission to love me. I don’t want to be the guy standing on the outside hoping I still get to stay.”
You squeeze his hand, tears slipping free again. “You already show up,” you whisper. “Every day. That’s what matters.”
He nods slowly, but there’s a new resolve in his eyes now. Solid. Unshakable.
“I’m gonna fix this,” he says. “I don’t know how yet—but I will. I’ll make sure we’re okay. All three of us.”
You lean in, pressing a careful kiss to his temple, your forehead resting against his. For a moment, everything feels still. Safe.
And as Jake closes his eyes, Ivy warm and real against his chest, you breathing softly beside him, his thoughts drift—unbidden—to the small velvet box buried deep in the back of his sock drawer at home.
romaincrisis
gracieabrams
izzy806
tangentwithtanner
stormborns
germansingergirl
amandla
