Hi friends! For any F1 fans out there, I have finally completed my fanfic and wanted to share it with you all. Thanks! - C
Isla Räikkönen becomes the new Red Bull driver, eager to establish her identity separate from her father's legacy. Supported by her teammate
Isla Räikkönen becomes the new Red Bull driver, eager to establish her identity separate from her father's legacy. Supported by her teammate Max Verstappen, she navigates the pressures of her rookie season while developing a close bond with fellow driver Lando Norris. Will Isla live up to the Räikkönen name or will she be another failed statistic for females in racing?
A/N: With the upsetting news of Val Kilmer passing, I’ve been in my Iceman feels. A few more Iceman one shots to follow. Thank you for reading - C
When you first told your dad you wanted to be a pilot, you were nearly five. Your mom said he laughed it off, chalking it up to your obsession with Top Gun. A childish dream, he figured—something you’d outgrow in a few years. Who could blame you? The planes were fast, the uniforms cool, and the base was your personal playground.
On your eleventh birthday, Uncle Mav took you up in one of his personal planes. Your dad was stuck in a meeting and had given Maverick one job: keep you out of trouble. Which, technically, he did. You two flew for hours, time slipping away like nothing. The note left behind for your dad simply read, Be back in a few. By the time you landed, your dad was livid.
He stood at the hangar’s edge, arms crossed, aviators on, watching the two of you walk up. Mav immediately knew he was in trouble, but how could he say no when his only niece asked to fly?
Your dad had a whole lecture ready about recklessness, responsibility, and needing permission. But the second you ran up to him, grinning ear to ear, animatedly retelling the flight, the fire in him faded. He glanced at Maverick, who smirked knowingly. And that cold Iceman exterior cracked just enough for a small smile. Your love for flying was pure. Still, your dad held onto the hope that you wouldn’t follow in his footsteps.
Your senior year of high school was one of your best. You’d been flying single-prop planes for years, occasionally sneaking into the cockpit of one of Mav’s when your dad wasn’t around. You were a well-rounded student with one secret goal you hadn’t told your dad at least, not until just before graduation.
You remember sitting at the dinner table, leg bouncing as your dad finished telling your mom how his day had been. Uncle Mav had just sat down with a plate of food, eyeing you suspiciously. While your dad was too occupied with settling down from a long day, Uncle Mav saw right through you. He nudged your leg under the table, catching your attention. The question was mouthed, “Are you okay?”
The shrug of your shoulder was what brought your dad into the silent conversation. “Anything the two of you want to share?” His eyes had bounced between the pair, now catching on to how nervous you looked.
You exhaled. “I got into the Naval Academy.”
Silence. You knew your parents had hoped flying was just a hobby. They had no idea you’d been quietly stressing over the application for months.
Maverick looked like he was trying not to grin. Your mom stared, wide-eyed, already understanding the path you were about to take. But your dad, he set his fork down, slowly processing.
You’d always told him everything. Your hopes, fears, dreams. This, though this he had no idea about.
“And you kept this from me… why?”
You expected the question. He was your best friend. And this, well… this could either bring you closer or tear you apart.
“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” you said. “Either by not getting in… or by getting in.”
He shook his head slightly. “Getting into the Academy is a huge accomplishment. Very few get the chance. Of course I’m proud of you, kid. Why would you think I wouldn’t be?”
You looked down. “Because I want to be a Top Gun pilot. And you don’t want that for me.”
You didn’t see his hands clench. Didn’t notice the glance he shot Maverick. All you heard was: “And if that’s your dream, then I’ll support you however I can. I’m proud of you.”
Which is why it felt like a betrayal, years later.
You graduated from the Academy. You earned your spot flying F-18s. You worked harder than anyone, your flying record spotless, your performance unmatched. You earned the call sign “Frost” after someone asked if it was because of your dad.
“No,” someone replied. “She’s colder than he is and she earned it.”
You did everything right. Everything you could to be selected for Top Gun. But others kept getting picked over you, and you couldn’t figure out why.
Until you met Bradley Bradshaw.
You didn’t grow up with him. your dad hadn’t been as close to the fallen RIO as Mav was. He was a few years older, always in a different class. But you were bound to cross paths eventually.
It just happened to be at the worst time.
You were at a bar, nursing a beer when the mustached pilot sat beside you and ordered a whiskey straight.
“What has the mighty Frost drinking alone on a Wednesday?” he asked.
You snorted. “Reflecting. You?”
He chuckled. “Questioning life.” Then paused. “How well do you know Maverick?”
You tried to rack your brain for why he would ask that. In the little you knew about him, his dad was close with the pilot. Even when he passed, you knew Maverick continued to show up for him.
You hesitated. “Grew up with him. My dad considers him family. Why?”
He sighed. “I poured everything into getting into Top Gun. Found out he pulled my papers. No explanation.”
You froze. If Maverick could pull papers… your dad could, too. Your hands shook as you pulled out your phone and called Mav.
“Did my dad pull my papers?” you asked, voice barely steady.
He didn’t need to hear the answer to know it was yes. Bradley flagged down more drinks.
You lost years over that. Years of silence. But eventually, you and Bradley made it. You graduated Top Gun together as the top two in your class. An honor you didn’t share with your dad or Mav. Not yet. The hurt was still too raw.
A year later, your mom called.
She had always played Switzerland between you and your dad, but now she was urging you home.
What started as a sore throat had turned into throat cancer. Aggressive. Unforgiving.
Suddenly, those years of defiance felt small. Petty. Time you threw away because you didn’t agree with a decision. Time he endured, silently, battling the pain of losing you and then battling cancer.
You let go of the past. Spent every possible moment with him. Told him everything about Top Gun, the dogfights, the friendships. About Bradley, and how you wished you’d known him sooner.
In turn, he told you how had had been following every deployment and every accomplishment you had in your career. Pictures were on his wall in the office of your graduation. A replica certificate of graduating number one in your class hung next to his. Tears were shed between the two of you as you both come to the acceptance that days like this were coming to an end, and your best friend was about to be taken from you.
Your dad pulled strings to keep you state side as long as he could, and you were grateful for it. Every visit you had with him seemed like it could be the last. No longer could he speak. His body was becoming frail from the chemo. He was starting to spend more time asleep rather awake. But you both promised each other to make the most of it.
Your 30th birthday brought an assignment from hell. But at least it was near home.
You reconnected with Maverick after years of standing in solidarity with Bradley, much to Mav’s dismay. The only positive you seemed to find in the beginning was that it wasn’t far from home, allowing you to see your dad most nights.
By some miracle, you brought a boy home for the first time. You saw a new light in your dads’ eyes when you told him to set out one extra plate for dinner. Was he surprised when it happened to be the one guy who drove you up the wall back at the academy? Possibly. But Jake Seresin has his way of charming himself into your heart.
It was almost like your dad was making sure you were going to have someone to care for you when he left. The very next day, Maverick pulled you into his office and broke the news to you.
You don’t remember much after that, just that he held you while you broke.
Now, you stand at his grave.
As you stood there staring at his grave, you had to wonder why you were only given 30 years with your best friend. And in those mere 30, a few of them you spitefully kept from him. But you proved him wrong in the best ways. The love for flying was something the two of you shared. A bond that could never be broken.
As his casket lowered into the ground, you knew this wasn’t just about your journey anymore. Flying for the Pacific Fleet wasn’t just for you. It was to carry on the legacy of the man who gave you your wings.
A/N: sorry for the delayed update. Hope you enjoy this part!
The first sign of trouble came two days later.
Marley had kept her head down, sticking close to Charles as they moved from village to village. He rarely spoke unless it was necessary, but when he did, it was always with the kind of voice that made people listen without questioning. He had contacts, safe houses, routes etched into his memory like a living map. How many people had this man saved before her? But even Marley could tell things weren’t going according to plan.
Their latest “safe house” was nothing more than a cramped attic above a bakery, and Charles had returned that night soaked from head to toe, his coat streaked with mud and worry.
“They’ve closed the southern rail,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Blew up part of the track. Resistance sabotage. Now they’re checking papers at every checkpoint between here and Marseille.”
Marley’s heart sank. “So, what now?”
“We wait. Just for a few days. A new route is being arranged.”
A few days turned into five.
The bakery was warm but suffocating. The scent of flour and yeast curled into her clothes, making her nauseous at the thought of ever eating bread again. Marley didn’t complain, though her patience frayed more with each passing day. She spent her time replaying the dogfight, the crash, Elise’s steady voice. And John.
She wondered if he was still flying. If he even knew she was alive.
Marley tried not to think too much about Gale. She was foolish to think war was the best place to fall in love. John had called her naive at times, and she fully believed it now.
On the sixth night, their waiting ended in fire.
A scream from below jolted her awake. Then gunshots. Charles was up instantly, yanking Marley to her feet.
“They found us,” he hissed. “Go! Down the back stairs.”
“What about the baker?”
Charles shook his head, already shoving supplies into his bag. “They’ll use him as an example.”
The words chilled her to her core.
They sprinted through narrow alleys, ducking behind carts and low walls. A flare lit up the sky behind them. Searchlights swept the streets. Dogs barked. Someone shouted in German. Marley’s lungs burned, but she kept running. Her body screamed in protest, the bruises from the crash and the long walk through the forest flaring back to life.
They made it to an abandoned mill on the edge of town by dawn.
Charles slammed the door shut behind them, both of them collapsing to the floor. His face was pale, blood trickling from a cut on his temple. Marley forced herself up to find rags and water, her fingers trembling as she cleaned the wound.
“This was supposed to be the easy part,” she muttered bitterly.
Charles smiled faintly. “Welcome to the real war.”
***
Marley didn’t remember falling asleep, but she woke with a jolt.
The abandoned mill was dark and cold, and Charles was already packing. The previous night’s escape had left them both raw and strung tight. The bakery was gone, burned, probably, and the kind-faced owner with it. Marley didn’t ask. She didn’t want to know the answer.
“We move now,” Charles whispered.
They waited until just before dawn, tucked in the ruins of a collapsed barn. Marley’s body ached from the run the night before, scrapes burned along her shins, her ankle throbbed with every step, but she kept quiet as Charles peeked through the rotted wood slats.
“This is it,” he murmured. “Our ride.”
Marley followed his gaze. A rickety horse-drawn cart rattled down the dirt road, a solitary figure holding the reins. The man was older, with a weathered face and hands stained from decades of soil. The cart was loaded high with burlap sacks, the earthy smell of potatoes drifting with it.
Charles motioned for her to stay hidden. He stepped out into the road just as the cart passed, raising his hand in greeting.
The farmer tensed, pulling the reins to slow the horse.
“You’re late,” the man muttered, glancing around anxiously. “You said dawn. This is nearly daylight.”
“We ran into trouble,” Charles replied in low French.
The farmer squinted past him toward the barn. Marley stepped out cautiously, her face partially hidden by a scarf Elise had given her.
The man scowled, clearly not thrilled about the extra weight, or the risk. “She doesn’t speak French?”
“No,” Charles answered quickly. “But she understands enough to stay silent.”
The farmer muttered a curse under his breath. “Get in. But if the guards search the cart, I don’t know you.”
Marley nodded once. She didn’t expect anything more.
Charles helped her into the cart, his hands firm as they pulled back the top layer of burlap sacks. Underneath was a tight crawl space packed with straw. Marley wriggled in first, flattening her body between the vegetables and the wooden slats. The smell of dirt and rot filled her nose. Charles followed, pulling the sacks back over them with practiced speed.
It was cramped. Hot. Silent.
Marley’s heart pounded with every creak of the wheels. Every bump in the road jostled her bruised ribs. The straw scratched her skin through the thin cotton of her dress, and she could barely move her limbs without hitting Charles.
And then they slowed.
She heard muffled voices.
Checkpoint.
German.
Marley clenched her jaw as boots scraped along the dirt beside them. She didn’t understand the words, but the tone was unmistakable: suspicion. Charles was utterly still beside her, barely breathing.
Then came the thump of a rifle butt against the sacks above them.
Marley held her breath. Her muscles screamed with the effort of staying still.
“Only potatoes,” the farmer’s voice called out. “For the next town. Do you want to inspect every one?”
A pause.
A grunt of dismissal.
The boots receded.
The cart creaked forward again.
Only when they had gone another mile did Charles exhale.
“You alright?” he whispered.
“Yeah,” she rasped. “I’ve had worse cab rides.”
He let out a quiet, strangled laugh. “Remind me never to visit New York.”
They rode in silence for another hour, jolting through the countryside until the cart turned down a narrow path, overgrown with weeds. It stopped beside a crumbling stone farmhouse with ivy climbing up its broken chimney.
The farmer gave one sharp knock on the cart's side. “End of the line.”
They crawled out, stiff and blinking into the sunlight.
There, they met Renée.
She wasn’t what Marley expected. Older, gray streaking through her braid, but her eyes were sharp as any commander Marley had ever served under. And she didn’t waste time with pleasantries.
“You’re going west,” Renée said, spreading a hand-drawn map on the table. “To the coast. There’s a boat coming in three nights if the weather holds and if the Germans don’t find it first.”
Three nights. One chance.
The journey would take them through two occupied towns and across a heavily patrolled railway. Any mistake would be fatal.
They traveled by night, Renée leading with her rifle, Charles behind with false documents and forged ration cards. Marley, somewhere in between, kept her coat collar up and her American mouth shut.
On the second night, everything unraveled.
They were just outside Saint-Brieuc, cutting through an orchard, when a spotlight split the sky. Dogs barked. A siren wailed.
“Run,” Renée snapped.
They scattered.
Marley dove through trees and hedgerows, tearing her dress and skin on branches. The sound of boots was everywhere, shouts in German, gunfire too close. She kept running, lungs screaming, legs burning, until the voices faded behind her.
She didn’t stop until dawn.
When she finally collapsed in a field, soaked with dew and shaking, she was alone. The adrenaline had slowly faded away, giving light to every ache and pain she had. But the one that drew her attention to it, was the long cut along her left arm spanning from the tip of her shoulder to her wrist.
Thankfully, it wasn’t bleeding too bad. Marley had no supplies with her and no means to close the wound. But her worry was the chance of infection. With not knowing where she was and who was out there hunting her, she couldn’t find a stream to rinse it out. Instead, she prayed to whatever God was listening to help her at least get back to base.
***
She moved at dusk the next day, her world reduced to the basics: hide, move, hide again.
No sign of Charles or Renée.
She begged water from a farmer’s wife who stared too long at her dirty boots and bloody hands. The woman gave her bread, too, and directions pointed west.
“Take the old road through the woods. No patrols there, but it’s longer. You’ll miss the next market day.”
Market day.
Another coded message. Safe travel.
Marley walked for two more days, dodging patrols and sleeping in haylofts. Her arm throbbed from the cut, her boots blistered her feet, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.
At last, she reached the coast.
The beach was quiet, too quiet.
The rendezvous point was an old fishing shack tucked into the cliffs. She waited. One hour. Two. The wind picked up. The tide rolled in. Still no sign of the boat.
Then, a low hum in the distance.
She stood, heart leaping, and ran down the rocks to the edge of the water. But it wasn’t a boat she saw first.
It was a patrol. Four German soldiers.
She dove for cover behind a drift of rocks, breath ragged. One wrong move, and she’d be caught now, this close to the end.
The sound of footsteps on gravel filled her ears. Then a sharp whistle. Followed by a steady stream of gunshots.
Someone was firing from the cliffs above. The Germans shouted, scrambled for cover. One dropped. The others retreated, confused.
Marley didn’t wait or question what was happening, but simply ran from her spot behind the rocks to the shoreline.
A hand grabbed her arm, making her turn and swing at her captor, but was blocked before contact was made. Renée was standing behind her, grip strong.
“You’re late,” she growled. “Come on!”
Together, they ran toward a shadowy figure waving from a boat, just beyond the surf. Charles. Alive. Bloodied, but grinning.
They splashed into the freezing water and climbed aboard. The engine coughed, then roared to life.
Bullets hit the water as they sped off.
But they didn’t turn back.
Marley shook her head. “How?” was all she could manage.
Charles wrapped her in a blanket. “Even when we split, the plan didn’t change. The boat moves every week. There’s always someone watching. The men on the cliffs, just another piece of the puzzle.”
Marley looked at him, stunned by how many people were risking everything for someone like her.
“I have nothing to offer you,” she said. “But thank you.”
Charles smiled. “It’s the least we can do for your efforts. Hopefully, one day, this will all be over.”
***
That night, as England’s shoreline emerged in the dark horizon, Marley sat on the deck, drenched and numb.
She didn’t cry.
She clenched her fists and stared ahead.
She had made it.
But not all of her had come back.
Tag List: @probabydeadbynow, @affabletimelady, @gilli-vanilli, @bellesdreamyprofile
ev's notes: everything will be under the first tag on this post -> ( daylight | joe x kelce!reader ). feel free to send in asks in my inbox, your thoughts are always the reason why series are so fun!!!
⟢ ┈ summary | the youngest kelce has always been somewhat an enigma.
growing up in the shadow of two of the nfl’s biggest personalities, she’s always managed to keep a lower profile, content to let jason and travis soak up the spotlight while she carved out a quieter existence. sure, she’s been spotted at games, made appearances on new heights, and endured the occasional media curiosity that comes with being a kelce—but for the most part, she’s kept her world private. not by accident, either. she’s built a life outside of football, outside of the noise, and she’s been just fine staying in her lane.
until joe burrow happened.
joe has always been a little different from the rest of the league—sharp, calculated, the definition of cool without ever having to try. he’s got that rare ability to command a room without raising his voice, to keep the world at arm’s length while still making everyone want to know more. his private life? practically untouchable. he’s never been one for high-profile romances, never the guy caught slipping up or getting messy in the media.
which is why when the rumors start—quiet at first, then deafening—it doesn’t feel real. the youngest kelce and joe burrow? people don’t know what to do with that information. because on the surface, it doesn’t make sense. she’s spent her whole life avoiding the spotlight. he lives under it.
and suddenly, the girl who never wanted the attention is at the center of everything.
⟢ ┈ playlist
here are the fics i posted before making this an official series: hard launch, first kiss
fics
chapter one | the youngest kelce has spent her whole life navigating the chaos of her famous last name, always lingering in the background while her brothers took center stage. but when travis falls for taylor swift, she suddenly finds herself feeling like a third wheel in her own family. and after your heartbreak with an nba player, you never thought you'd find love again.
chapter two | after running into your ex, you and kylie have some reflection time. joe realizes that his hook-ups aren't fulfilling, but ja'marr reminds him of who he really is underneath all the hurt.
chapter three | you try to move on from a past relationship finds yourself caught between a safe relationship with a new football player and a magnetic attraction to joe burrow. kylie tries to guide you towards stable relationships but you struggle with the lack of passion and excitement in your current romance.
Marley’s ears rang in the deafening silence. It took some effort to open her eyes, but when she did, her heart rate skyrocketed. Rolling hills of lush green went as far as the eye could see. Any other time she would’ve found it beautiful, but panic was slowly starting to consume her.
Move, Marley. We have to move.
She willed herself to sit up, making sure nothing was broken or missing. The parachute attached to her was slightly blowing in the breeze, drawing unwanted attention, letting the enemy know she was here. Wherever here was.
Cut the parachute and hide it.
Her hands shook as she fumbled with the straps, slashing at them with frantic urgency. The fabric of the parachute twisted in her hands, but there was no time to fold it neatly. Her eyes darted around, trying to see if there was even a spot to hide it. A small, wooded area in the distance grabbed her attention. Without a second thought, she bolted towards it, breath ragged and heart racing.
Was anyone watching? Had they seen me fall?
Her legs burned as she reached the edge of the trees, heart hammering in her chest. She ducked behind a thick patch of underbrush, praying for a moment of peace. The world around her was unnervingly quiet. The ringing in her ears had faded, but the deafening sound of her heartbeat filled the void. There was no time to rest. She couldn’t afford to stop now.
Cautiously, she peered out from behind the leaves, scanning the landscape. It looked peaceful, serene, like something out of a movie. But beneath that calm, she knew, was the ever-present danger of being hunted. She had been shot down over enemy territory, and if she didn’t move fast, she would be captured or worse.
Marley pulled her jacket tighter around her and checked her sidearm. It was there, a comforting weight against her ribs. She wished she had more than just the pistol. Anything more substantial would make her feel less vulnerable. But it was better than nothing.
Think, Marley. Think.
She couldn’t afford to get caught. Not with the Germans in control of this part of France. And certainly not with the rising dread creeping into her chest. Her mind drifted briefly to her brother, knowing he was probably losing his mind right about now. But she made him a promise she was going to keep. And Gale. Fuck, she had just started to get somewhere with him and now she was taking a stroll across enemy lines.
Marley shifted her focus back to the woods, scanning the ground for any signs of movement. But there was nothing, just the rustling of leaves in the wind. She exhaled and took a tentative step forward, careful not to make a sound.
The sharp crack of a twig in the distance froze her in place.
Dammit.
She sucked in her breath, heart racing. Her eyes darted around, searching for any movement. There it was again, the unmistakable crunch of boots against the earth. But they weren’t from the direction she had come.
No, no, no.
Her pulse quickened. She was not alone.
Marley ducked lower into the bushes, panic now climbing its way up her throat. She had to make herself invisible. Tears started forming in her eyes, blurring her vision around her.
There is no crying in war, Marley. Get it together.
She watched the edge of the woods, praying whoever was out there wouldn’t spot her.
She could hear the footsteps getting closer, now unmistakably purposeful. Someone was hunting her. A German soldier, no doubt. She was exposed, and it would only be a matter of time before they found her.
Fucking think! Staying here is not an option anymore.
Marley glanced to her left and saw a small creek running through the woods, its murky water winding through the trees like a lifeline. It wasn’t much, but if she could make it to the creek, she could follow it out of sight.
Without another second of hesitation, she scrambled for it, keeping low to the ground. The cool air hit her skin as she quietly slipped into the shallow stream, her boots slipping on the wet rocks. She held her breath as she pushed herself into the mud and brush up on the side of the creek, face covered and her body hidden beneath the water’s surface, waiting for the footsteps to pass.
Dear, God. Please let there be nothing in this water that will eat me.
Seconds stretched into minutes. She didn’t dare move. The sound of boots grew louder—closer. Then, just when it felt like her heart might stop from the anxiety, the footsteps halted. She held her breath, praying they hadn’t seen the ripple of water she made when she first got in.
A voice, gruff and foreign, echoed through the trees. She couldn’t understand the words, but the tone was clear. He was speaking to someone. Her instincts screamed at her to keep her head down and stay still, not to give away her position. The sound of movement stirred in the woods, but it seemed to be moving away from her.
After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps faded into the distance, leaving only the rustling of leaves and the steady trickling of the creek.
Marley let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Her body was numb from the cold, but she couldn’t afford to linger. She pushed herself out of the water, silently cursing the sound of the squelching boots as she moved.
She needed to keep moving. She needed to get out of there.
But as she turned to face the creek’s winding path, a figure emerged from the trees ahead.
She froze.
It was a woman dressed in tattered clothing, who looked just as startled to see Marley as she was to see her.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Marley’s mind raced.
Who is she? What side is she on? She looks smaller than John, so I could take her.
The woman spoke in a hushed, urgent tone, but the words were unfamiliar, the accent thick with something Marley couldn’t quite place.
I should’ve learned German.
Her pulse skipped, but before she could react, the woman’s gaze dropped to the side as if listening for something. Her eyes widening as a soft sound of footsteps reached their ears. Without a word, the woman jerked her head toward the thicket.
Marley didn’t need to be told twice. She followed the woman, moving quickly but quietly, as they ducked deeper into the woods.
After walking for a short while, they came to a small, hidden cabin tucked among the trees, the door cracked open. The woman looked at Marley again, giving her a small nod before entering. Marley hesitated for a split second, then followed, closing the door softly behind her.
The story of Hansel and Gretel played through her mind.
Inside, the cabin was dim, with a small fire burning in the hearth. The air smelled of wood and something faintly metallic, but it felt safer than the open woods. The woman motioned for Marley to sit, and she did, cautiously, watching her every move.
Then, the woman spoke again, her words slow but deliberate.
"Are you American?"
Marley nodded, hesitating. "Yes. I... I need to get back to England."
The woman’s gaze softened. "You’re not the first," she said quietly. "We’ve helped others before."
Marley’s heart skipped a beat.
Maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who could help her after all.
Tag List: @probabydeadbynow, @affabletimelady, @gilli-vanilli, @bellesdreamyprofile
A/N: The story is starting to pick up. I apologize in advance...
Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7
War felt both fast and slow at the same time. The missions were increasing, but their impact seemed less and less significant. The days bled into each other, with the distant promise of an end becoming a fragile hope instead of an expectation. The thought of surviving long enough to see the war over had shifted from something they all believed in, to something they silently clung to in the quietest moments.
The bombers complained about their own struggles: cramped, vulnerable machines and perilous skies, but in truth, their missions were fewer than the fighters'. The fighter pilots like Captain Egan had it worse, running constant sorties with barely a break between them.
Marley had woken up that morning with a sense of quiet excitement, eager to get back into the sky. It had been a little over a week since her last mission, and while she was glad for the rest, the feeling of being grounded had started to gnaw at her.
The morning air was crisp, as it usually was at this hour, but today it had a particular clarity, the kind that made the world feel sharply defined, as though everything had been polished overnight. The sky above was an endless canvas of blue, with barely a cloud in sight. It was the kind of morning that promised perfect flying weather—a calm, clear day that felt like an invitation to take to the skies.
She quietly pulled on her flight gear, each piece fitting into place with a sense of routine and certainty. Her hands moved with practiced precision, though a small part of her was already thinking ahead to what the day would bring. The war was grinding on, the missions becoming more frequent, but the end—whatever that would look like—still felt too far away. It was a thought she pushed aside.
As she stepped outside, the cold air bit at her skin, but the invigorating chill helped clear her mind. She glanced toward the runway, where she knew Sparky would be preparing his own plane. They’d be flying together again today, and the thought of it brought a small smile to her face.
Marley took a step towards her plane and then hesitated. Her brothers’ rants on not saying goodbye were playing like a monologue in her head. Letting out a sigh, she switched directions and walked to her brother’s bunk.
It was still dark inside when a knock on the door pulled Major Egan from his restless sleep. He groggily turned to check the time, his eyes squinting against the faint, early morning light creeping through the window. “Who the hell is knocking this early?” he muttered, pushing himself out of bed with a sigh. As he stood up, Major Cleven stirred awake as well, rubbing his eyes.
John opened the door and found his younger sister, Marley, standing there in full flight gear. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” she teased, stepping past him into the shared quarters without waiting for an invitation. Her arrival had ruffled Gale, who was sitting up in bed, and she couldn’t help but notice his bare chest. Marley quickly looked away, a faint blush creeping up her neck as she redirected her attention back to John.
“Already heading back up?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
Marley gave a quick nod. “Yeah, they said it’s supposed to be a routine flight. Nothing too risky. I figured I’d stop by to say goodbye before you start complaining all day.”
John grunted but said nothing. Her gaze flickered over to Gale, who was now standing beside the bed in only his boxers. John saw her eyeing her his friend, and he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Quit checking him out while he’s getting dressed and tell me about the mission.”
“I don’t know much,” Marley replied, momentarily distracted by the familiar, comforting atmosphere between them. “Just a quick hop over France, then back. I think another group’s making a drop somewhere, but they didn’t give us the full details.”
John’s eyes fell on the scar on her head, a reminder of how close they’d come to losing her in the past few weeks. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, something he did when he was worried. Marley had just been cleared to fly again after a head injury, much to his displeasure.
“Just be careful, Mar. Please,” he said, his voice soft but filled with the kind of raw concern that only family could bring out.
She leaned in, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace, holding him longer than usual, as if to reassure him that everything would be okay. “I always am,” she replied quietly, but even she could hear the uncertainty in her voice.
Reluctantly, she stepped back and turned to Gale. “Try to keep him in line while I’m gone.”
He chuckled and nodded his head, pulling her into him. He gave her a quick kiss on the head and let go. “Keep your head up and eyes open. They won’t know what hit them.”
She smiled, the warmth of his words calming her nerves, before turning back to her brother. “I’ll see you boys later.”
She walked to the door, leaving behind the faint scent of her flight suit and the heavy, bittersweet weight of her goodbye. As she closed the door behind her, John slowly sank back down onto the bed, the quiet pressing in on him.
“You ever get that feeling,” he said to Buck, his voice barely above a whisper, “that something bad is about to happen?”
Buck didn’t answer at first, but he didn’t need to. He knew exactly what John meant. Marley had never come to say goodbye before. That, combined with the fact that the mission seemed "easy"—too easy—had his instincts on edge. It was a feeling that every soldier had experienced at least once in their career, that nagging premonition of a storm on the horizon.
The two men sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, they got up to start their day, but neither of them could shake the sense of unease that hung heavy in the air.
The day dragged on, the hours blending together as the constant hum of war seemed to fill every corner of the base. The talk of another mission was already floating around, carried by whispers between the pilots and ground crew. Everyone knew it was coming—it always was. There was always another target to hit, another sortie to fly. Some of the men seemed to relish it, the adrenaline, the thrill of the skies, but for others, the joy had started to fade long ago. The reality of what they were facing, the possibility of being shot down in enemy territory, had a way of souring the love of flight. No one who had survived a crash in hostile land ever looked at the sky the same way again.
John had been granted a few days' leave—an unexpected reprieve in the middle of the madness. It was rare, but when it happened, it felt like a small victory. He was already thinking about what to do with the time. London. The very thought of it seemed surreal. He’d never imagined he’d have the chance to visit the city, let alone during a war. But now, with a few days to himself, the idea was enticing. Missing one mission wouldn’t be the end of the world, he reasoned. He figured he’d ask Marley if she wanted to go with him.
But as the hours wore on and the sun began its slow descent, the thought of the mission still hung in the air like a weight. The fighters had left hours ago, and everyone knew that the flight there and back should have taken time than that.
John glanced at his watch again, brow furrowing. The silence between him and Buck in the jeep had grown heavy. The two men sat in the front, staring out across the airfield as they waited for the planes to return. The noise of the base had died down somewhat as everyone went about their business, a quiet that felt almost unnatural in the midst of the chaos. But something in the air was different today—there was a stillness that set John’s nerves on edge.
Another hour passed.
John exchanged a look with Buck, but neither of them said anything. They didn’t need to. The longer they waited, the more certain they became. There was a gnawing suspicion creeping in, a feeling neither of them wanted to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore.
The planes should have been back by now.
"Maybe they're delayed," Buck offered, his voice low and flat. He didn’t sound convinced, and John knew it. Both of them had seen enough to recognize when something wasn’t right.
"Yeah," John muttered, glancing out over the runway again, scanning the horizon. The airfield was quiet, too quiet. No distant rumble of engines, no shape of fighters returning through the haze of twilight. Just the occasional rustle of wind against the grass.
As the minutes ticked on, that gnawing suspicion became a quiet certainty.
John’s stomach tightened. With every second that passed without word from the fighters, his gut twisted with something darker. The realization was slowly setting in, heavy and undeniable.
The planes hadn’t come back.
Tag List: probabydeadbynow, affabletimelady, gilli-vanilli, bellesdreamyprofile
A/N: Hoping to get more chapters out this winter break! Thank you for reading!
Word count: 2k
Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 8
When the guys returned, they were greeted by Marley Egan lounging casually in the jeep. It was a refreshing change to see the younger Egan waiting on the runway, and many of the guys felt a comforting sense of normalcy in her presence.
As the two Majors approached, smiles spread across their faces at the sight of the young pilot, alive and well. Bucky couldn't help but tease, “Why is it that I’m a nervous wreck waiting for you, while you’re here like we just popped out to the store?”
Marley shrugged with a playful grin. “I’m not as big of a baby as you are.”
John gave her a gentle nudge, chuckling. “Whatever, Marley.”
Once they climbed into the jeep, Marley remarked on how tan they looked. “Being stranded in the desert will do that to you,” Bucky replied with a smirk. She started the engine and steered them toward interrogation.
“They didn’t throw you a big welcome party?” Marley mused. “I figured it’d be a huge deal to have American pilots on their soil.” Her question was valid—flying the path they took was risky and unprecedented, especially since nothing had gone according to plan.
“Let’s just say the plan sounded better before we took off,” the blonde replied, glancing at Marley as she drove, trying to gauge if something was off. The only visible change was her hair, which was down, cascading around her shoulders. He knew the group would’ve had to go on at least one assignment while they were gone.
“What did the fighters do while we were gone?” John asked, echoing the curiosity that lingered in the air.
Marley bit her lip, knowing they’d find out soon enough. “We went on a small night flight with our RAF pals. Nothing major since then. They still haven’t sent replacements, which means no big flights for now.”
The two men exchanged glances, sensing she was holding back something. But with her cheerful demeanor and the fact that she was moving around fine, they didn’t think anything too bad could’ve happened.
Marley pulled up outside of the building and stopped the car. Both men got out, thanking her for the ride. Her brother walked right inside, but Gale paused. “You really weren’t worried about if we made it out or not?”
Marley smiled, “I bribed one of the navigators into knowing who made it to Africa.” Gale laughed and followed his friend into the building.
Marley made her way back to her plane, where Lemmons was busy addressing a few last-minute issues. “How’s she looking?” she asked, surveying the work.
Lemmons looked up with a grin. “Almost done. Should be ready by the time you’re cleared. Speaking of which, how did your brother take the news?”
Marley ran a hand through her hair, the weight of his concern evident. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell him.”
Lemmons shook his head, his expression serious. “He deserves to know you almost died.”
Marley rolled her eyes, brushing off the gravity of his words. “I didn’t almost die.”
He scoffed, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t know—because you passed out in Sutton’s arms! It took two of us to carry you to medical. I even had to throw away that uniform; I couldn’t get your blood out of it.”
Marley’s expression softened, the reality of the situation hitting her. “Okay, maybe it was a bit more serious than I thought,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But how am I supposed to tell him? ‘Hey while you were gone, I was shot at and almost didn’t live to tell you about it. Let’s go grab some lunch.’”
Lemmons shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know but he’s going to find out soon. I don’t think you realize how many people were involved that night.”
Just then, they turned to see a jeep rolling up. John and Gale stepped out, their eyes drawn to her plane.
“That’s a lot of new bullet holes,” John remarked, studying the damage. Gale’s gaze was fixed on Marley, and he noticed her telltale sign of nervousness as she twirled the ends of her hair.
“The night raid was a bit tougher than we expected,” Marley said, trying to downplay it. “A few scrapes here and there, but we landed okay.”
Lemmons shot her a disapproving look, haunted by memories of that night. He knew all too well that “okay” was a relative term.
Gale had concern etched across his face. "Are you injured?" John tore his gaze from the plane, his attention shifting to his sister. A heavy sigh escaped Marley’s lips; she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide the truth much longer. She opened her mouth to explain the situation, but before she could speak, someone sprinted up, urgently summoning the two Majors.
John shot Marley a look that promised she wouldn’t escape scrutiny just yet. Gale cast one last glance at her, reassuring himself she was okay, before climbing back into the jeep. As they drove off, Marley sighed in relief, knowing she had a little more time to dodge their questions. The thought of hiding for the rest of the day crossed her mind, but she dismissed it—she knew that wouldn’t end well.
“What else needs to be done before my plane is ready to fly again?” she asked Lemmons, who shook his head in exasperation but began detailing the repairs still in progress.
Marley stayed with him for about half an hour before heading back to the mess hall for lunch. On her way, she felt a wave of lightheadedness wash over her. She tried to push through, telling herself to keep moving, but soon the world around her began to darken.
Sparks rushed toward her as her pace faltered, concern written all over his face. "Hey, are you okay?" he called, but all she could hear was a loud ringing in her ears. He gently guided her to the ground, hoping that sitting would help, but as her face drained of color, he realized she needed medical attention.
***
A little while later, in one of the buildings, the higher-ups were concluding a meeting. The two Majors emerged to find Captain Sutton waving them down. “Has Marley told you what happened earlier this week?”
Both men shook their heads. Sutton’s tone was calm but firm. “Don’t panic—she’s currently in medical after passing out a few minutes ago. It’s a consequence of not following orders.”
John’s heart dropped. “What the hell happened?”
Gale noticed the relaxed demeanor of the captain; it reassured him that Marley wasn’t in imminent danger. They climbed into the jeep as Sutton began to explain.
“She was shot at during our night flight. The incredible part? She flew like nothing was wrong. It wasn’t until I pointed out the blood that she realized she’d been hit—a bullet grazed her head, enough to cause significant bleeding. At one point, it was touch and go, but she pulled through with a few stitches and a concussion. The docs grounded her for a week and told her to take it easy. Clearly, she didn’t take that last part to heart and pushed herself too hard today.”
The gravity of the situation settled heavily on the two Majors as they absorbed the news.
Marley woke up to Betty sitting next to her, shaking her head. “When we said don’t push yourself, this is not what we meant.”
The pilot looked around and realized where she was. “Oh god. Tell me John doesn’t know.”
Yelling outside the building could be heard and Marley knew her brother was pissed. “Go easy on him. His baby sister is in a hospital bed nursing a concussion he didn’t know she had.” She knew Betty was right but facing him still wasn’t something she wanted to do.
Her brother was let in and he made a bee line for her bed. “What in the actual fuck, Marlene? You were shot and didn’t think to tell me?” Marley looked down, trying to avoid his pissed off glare.
“This is the time you say something!” he yelled. Betty stepped forward, pointing a finger at John.
“I understand how worried you must be, trust me I do. But there will be zero yelling in here as there are other patients trying to heal. Your sister being one of them.” With one last glare, she walked away giving the two siblings privacy.
John looked down at her, shaking his head. “Talk to me, kid. For once, I need you to tell me the whole truth.” He settled onto the edge of her bed, concern etched across his face.
“To be honest,” Marley admitted, fiddling with the edge of her blanket, “I don’t remember everything.” She glanced around the room, searching for the right words. “Unless you want to explain this to Gale, I suggest you go grab him.”
Her brother sighed, understanding the urgency, and stood to fetch his friend—the one pilot who had somehow managed to worm his way into her heart.
When John returned, he settled back onto the bed while Gale leaned against the wall behind him, arms crossed and expression serious.
“The flight sucked. Night assignments aren’t about precision at all but trying to do the most destruction. You can’t see anything until it’s too late which is why my plane was sprayed with bullets.” She paused trying to recall the events. “I don’t remember being hit. I didn’t know anything was wrong until Sparky and Lemmons rushed towards me. After that everything is a blur. I was told I had lost too much blood at one point but managed to make it through the night. Lemmons and Sparkes made sure at least one of them was there with me until they released me.”
Both men were silent, processing the entirety of the situation. Gale looked up at her head and realized why her hair was down. Neither of them had noticed the clean row of stiches. It was another scar to add to the collection.
John ran a hand through his hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t lose you, Marley. I can’t fucking lose you.” Marley leaned back, closing her eyes as she absorbed his words. She knew how fragile he was—how completely unhinged he would become if anything happened to her. That knowledge was part of why she kept the truth from him. If he believed she was okay, he’d rest easier at night.
Betty walked back over to the group, “Unfortunately, you are sleeping here tonight seeing that you can’t follow simple instructions. The cot next to you will be free tonight.” And walked away.
“I can stay. Make sure your ass actually stays in bed.” John took his shoes off and hopped in the bed next to hers. Marley shook her head, avoiding a glance at her brother.
Gale looked at the two of them and smiled a bit. “I’m going to head out and grab some food for you both. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.” Bucky waved a hand at him, making Gale chuckle. Marley opened her eyes in time to see Buck wink at her, making her cheeks flush.
Once Gale had left, Marley heard the bed creak next to her, signaling her brother had moved some. “Promise me something, Mar.”
She rolled onto her side, silently encouraging him to continue.
“If things get rough out there, promise me you’ll fight like hell to get back here. I know the risks we take are real, and I can’t pretend they won’t catch up to us. Just… don’t ever give up.”
A single tear slipped down Marley’s cheek, a stark reminder of the close call she’d faced just days before. She met his gaze, her resolve steady. “Only if you do the same.”
A/N: Thank you o much for reading!!
Tag List: probabydeadbynow, affabletimelady, gilli-vanilli, bellesdreamyprofile
Summary: Ghost was one of the most recent graduates from Top Gun quickly making a name for herself. When she gets recalled with the best of the best, she realizes her work is cut out for her if she wants to make the team. And one of her biggest obstacles is a blonde hair pilot with the world’s most annoying smirk. Will she make the team? And if so, at what cost?
A/N: The end is finally here! Thank you for reading!
Series Masterlist
All Jake could see was smoke. At the speed both planes collided, there was nothing but smoke and debris in the air.
“Hangman, was there a chute? Was a chute deployed?” Jake heard the near-panic in the voices over his headset but couldn’t answer. He was too far behind to see if you ejected before impact and too high up to see if you were in the water.
“Hangman, answer.” He shook his head in shock. “I—I don’t know. I couldn’t see.”
He replayed what just happened, over and over to see if maybe he missed something. But the silence on his headset told him everything he needed to know.
Jake maneuvered the plane back to the carrier, landing as if he were on autopilot. The crew around him celebrated a successful mission, but nothing about what just happened felt like a victory.
He sat in his plane until he heard a knock on the dome. Bradshaw had climbed up and was waiting right outside for him. With more force than was necessary, he took his helmet off and flung it by his feet.
This was why he didn’t get close to people. This was why he refused to let anyone in.
After opening the top of the plane, the cheers he had heard became something that would haunt him at night.
“Has there been any word yet?”
Bradshaw’s face was a mask of concern, but there was no time for words. Jake shook his head, his throat tight with unshed emotion. He couldn’t find the words to explain what had just happened. Instead, he focused on the dull roar of the carrier’s operations, the rush of adrenaline still pulsing through him, mixing with dread.
“No word,” Jake finally managed, his voice a low rasp. “I… I couldn’t see if she ejected.”
Bradshaw’s expression darkened, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “We have to get a search party out there. If she’s in the water—”
Jake cut him off. “We don’t even know if she made it out!” The words came out sharper than he intended, fueled by frustration and fear. “We can’t risk more lives trying to find her if we don’t even know if she’s alive.”
Silence settled between them, heavy and suffocating. Each heartbeat felt like a countdown, ticking away the moments they could have spent saving you.
“I can’t—” Jake started, but the weight of his own past decisions loomed large, echoing the mantra that had haunted him since the beginning of his career. He’d kept his distance from everyone, convinced that it was safer that way. But now? Now he felt the stark loneliness of that choice.
The sound of the deck crew working below broke the stillness, the cacophony reminding him of the harsh realities of their world. He needed to pull it together. For you. For the squadron. For every pilot who had ever risked everything. He wouldn’t let Ghost become another statistic.
He climbed out of the cockpit and onto the deck, the air thick with tension. The crew was still celebrating the mission’s success, but it felt hollow. No one knew yet about the potential loss hanging over them. The camaraderie felt tainted, like a party thrown in a graveyard.
Bradshaw stood next to him, unsure what to do. His focus turned when Maverick approached. “Hammer is sending out a few rescue boats in case she made it out before impact.”
Both men could hear the small bit of hope in Maverick’s voice, but his body language betrayed him. It was doubtful you had made it out of there in one piece, especially with no evidence of a chute.
The rest of the team kept their distance, knowing the three men standing together would take this loss the hardest.
In the distance, two rescue boats skimmed over the choppy waters, their bright orange hulls a stark contrast against the gray sea. Jake’s heart raced, hope flickering like a dying ember.
“C’mon,” Bradshaw urged, gripping Jake’s shoulder. “Let’s get down there.”
As they moved to the edge of the deck, the noise around them faded into a low hum. All that mattered now was the sight of those boats. Each second felt like an eternity as they scanned the horizon for any sign of you.
“Please,” Jake whispered, more to himself than anyone else. “Please be safe.”
He could feel the weight of Bradshaw and Maverick beside him, their shared worry binding them in an unspoken vow to find you. But as the boats grew smaller on the horizon, doubt crept in like a shadow, chilling him to the core.
“Hangman,” Maverick said, breaking the silence, “we need to prepare for the worst.”
Jake clenched his fists, the frustration bubbling back up. “I won’t believe that until we know for sure.”
Maverick nodded, the understanding in his eyes matching the gravity of the moment. “Then we fight for her. We keep searching until there’s nothing left to hope for.”
Jake took a deep breath, grounding himself. “Yeah. We do that.”
And as the boats sped away, their hearts synced in a rhythm of hope and dread, he silently vowed to face whatever came next.
***
Weeks passed, but each day felt heavier than the last for Jake. He’d replayed the moment in his head a thousand times—the planes colliding, the smoke, the silence over the radio. The gnawing ache of not knowing had carved out a hollow space in his chest, and his once-confident persona had crumbled.
Every night, he would find himself on the deck, staring at the horizon, hoping for something, anything, to change. The group was stationed on the carrier until the last bits of the mission were cleaned up and their services no longer needed.
The days dragged on, each one slower than the last, leaving Jake feeling trapped—like he was drowning in the endless expanse of the open sea.
But then, on a quiet evening when the sun had just dipped below the sea, there was a crackle over the radio. One of the communications officers had called out that he had something, making a few of the pilots rush to hear.
Jake barely registered it at first—just more background noise in the fog of his thoughts. Until one word broke through:
“Ghost.”
His head snapped up, heart pounding in his chest. He fumbled for the radio, almost too afraid to hope.
“Say again, repeat that transmission,” Maverick’s voice cut in, tight with tension.
“Ghost,” the voice came again, clearer this time. “This is Ghost. I’m alive.”
A beat of silence. Then chaos.
Jake legs almost gave out in relief as the rest of the crew scrambled. Bradshaw was already there, wide-eyed, with a hand gripping the edge of the console.
“Where the hell are you, Ghost?!” Jake demanded into the mic, his voice rough with disbelief.
There was a pause, a shaky breath on the other end, and then your voice came through, weak but steady. “I’m on an island. Ejected before impact. Water was rough, but I washed up here. Rescue… took some time.”
Jake sank against the wall, his legs barely holding him up. The weight of the past weeks lifted so suddenly, it left him dizzy. You were alive. You’d made it.
“Coordinates?” Maverick asked, all business now, though Jake could see the relief in his eyes. The crew scrambled to prepare for a rescue mission, but all Jake could think about was you—alive, breathing, after everything.
The next hours were a blur. Rescue helicopters were deployed, the island located, and the team readied for the extraction. Jake refused to wait on the sidelines. He needed to be there.
When the helicopter finally touched down on the beach, Jake was the first one off. He sprinted across the sand, heart in his throat, until he saw you. You were sitting against a rock, wrapped in a blanket, bruised and battered, but very much alive.
You looked up as Jake approached, a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Took you long enough.”
Jake didn’t say anything. He just pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as though he feared letting go might mean losing you all over again. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart, and for the first time in weeks, Jake felt whole.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves crashing behind you.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you replied, your voice hoarse but filled with the same resilience that had always drawn him to you.
The rescue team hovered nearby, giving the two of you space. Bradshaw and Maverick watched from a distance, sharing a knowing look. They had been prepared for the worst, but sometimes, hope was rewarded.
As the helicopter lifted off, carrying you and the team back to the carrier, Jake sat beside you, fingers brushing against yours. The horizon stretched out before you, the sky painted with the soft glow of a setting sun. For the first time in weeks, Jake felt like he could breathe again.
“I am so unbelievably mad at you,” Jake said, finally breaking the silence. “But having you here in my arms almost makes me forget about it.”
You turned your head to look at him, eyes soft with gratitude. “I’m sorry. The past caught up with me. I had a lot of time to think on that island with the small boat crew that rescued me. I realized my greatest fear wasn’t exactly me dying. But me not being able to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Jake pulled you closer and placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You aren’t ever leaving my sight again.”
Back on the carrier, the crew erupted into cheers the moment they saw you both step off the helicopter. This time, the celebration felt real, untainted by grief or fear. You had defied the odds, and now the squadron was whole again.
Later that night, as the stars glittered above the quiet sea, Jake found himself back on the deck, but this time, you were beside him. The silence between you was comfortable, no longer heavy with unspoken fears.
“I guess we’re not as invincible as we thought,” you mused, leaning against the railing.
Jake smiled, a rare softness in his expression. “Maybe not. But we’re still here.”
You looked at him, your eyes reflecting the same determination and strength that had kept you alive. “Yeah, we are.”
And in that moment, Jake realized something had shifted. He wasn’t alone anymore. He had let someone in, and despite all the risks, it felt right.
As the night stretched on, the weight of the past weeks slowly faded into the background, replaced by the steady hum of the carrier and the comforting presence of the one person who had come back from the brink.
The ghost of loss that had haunted Jake was gone. You were home.
And for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.
A/N: Wow. After a year of writing this, it has finally come to an end. For everyone who has read, commented, liked this story I cannot thank you enough for sticking around. An epilogue will be coming soon to give you all the complete and happy ending of these two. – Chelsea
A/N: Round 4 of Pink Promise! Part 5 is in the works now! Thanks for reading!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
When Jake received the text, “Want to get drunk tonight?” on a Wednesday, a heavy feeling settled in his stomach. Something must have happened. He leaned against the cool countertop of his kitchen, weighing his options. The last time he saw you, time had slipped away unnoticed, and now it had been over a week. He fired back a quick reply, “Name the place and I’ll be there.”
He showered and changed out of his work clothes, heart racing as he waited for your next message. He hoped he could talk you down from whatever ledge you were teetering on and still make it home at a reasonable hour.
Jake drove to the small bar on the outskirts of town, a spot you chose to avoid running into other pilots. You didn’t dislike them; you just didn’t want to put on a show for Bradley’s sake. As he stepped inside, he spotted you immediately, alone at the bar. Your profile told a story that made him stop in his tracks. The dark circles under your eyes and the way your hair lost its usual shine spoke volumes. But it was your defeated posture that cut him the deepest—your shoulders hunched as if you were trying to disappear.
A sigh escaped his lips as he chastised himself for not checking on you sooner. He slid onto the stool next to you. “Hey, darlin’. Sorry if I made you wait.”
You looked up, a flicker of light returning to your eyes. “I haven’t been here long. How was work?”
“Same as always. Your brother has been more moody than usual,” he replied, signaling the bartender for a water.
You chuckled softly. “Natasha turned him down. He’s not taking it too well.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, surprised. He hadn’t known Bradley was interested. “Did he say why?”
“She gave him some excuse about not wanting to mix work with pleasure or some bullshit like that. He deserves better anyway.”
A comfortable silence settled between you for a few moments before you broke it with an unexpected question. “You ever think, ‘Man, I suck’?” You took a long sip of your drink, completely unfazed by Jake’s water.
He smirked. “Not particularly. I know I’m one of the best, so there’s not much room for doubt.”
You rolled your eyes. “That was such a bagman answer.”
Jake chuckled, but his expression turned serious. “I do have days I question why I’m still doing this. I love flying, but the risks are starting to feel bigger than the rewards.” He leaned back, hoping his honesty would coax you into sharing what was weighing you down.
When you finished your drink, he leaned closer. “What’s going on? It’s been a while since you’ve been out during the week.”
You turned your gaze to the empty glass, avoiding his eyes. “You’d be surprised how many times I drink during the week. But I think I’ve realized recently that I’m not built for med school.”
Alarm bells rang in Jake’s mind. “We’ll talk about the drinking in a minute. What’s happening with school? I thought things were going well.”
You signaled the bartender for another drink, and Jake slid his water toward you. “It’s not what I thought it would be. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s just… not something I enjoy.”
Before you could reach for your new drink, Jake intercepted it. “Let me guess: instead of asking for help, you decided drinking was the better option?”
You nodded, your defenses slipping away. Why be responsible when it was easier to forget?
He sighed, “Did I ever tell you how much I hated flight school?” you shook your head, prompting him to continue. “I was excited to be a pilot. It’s been my dream for as long as I can remember. But when I got into the schooling side of it, I was crushed. I nearly quit a few times, but I told myself to push through. I kept thinking the freedom to enjoy what I love would be waiting on the other side.”
You slowly nodded your head at his admission. “I made the mistake of telling Bradley I hated it a few weeks back. He didn’t give me any fuzzy words of encouragement.” Jake clenched his fists, anger simmering at Bradley’s judgment. He knew how much your brother’s words affected you, no matter how much you tried to brush them off.
“Listen, sweetheart. I know you love your brother, but when stuff like this comes up, you need to reach out to me. I will never be too busy for you. I pinky promise.” He extended his pinky, a hopeful smile breaking through your somber expression.
“One of my greatest achievements will be having a big bad Top Gun pilot pinky-promise me,” you said, hooking your pinky with his and squeezing it lightly.
For another half-hour, you both sat at the bar, laughter mingling with the bittersweet confessions. When Jake finally stood to leave, he insisted, “I’m driving you home. It’s dark out, and I’d rather not take any chances.”
You opened your mouth to argue but quickly realized it was futile. With a resigned nod, you followed him outside. The night air was cool, but Jake’s presence felt like a warm shield against the world.
He opened the truck door for you, a small gesture that sent a ripple of warmth through your chest. As he gently closed it once you were inside, the moment felt almost too perfect, like a scene from one of those old movies that made you cringe. And that’s when your thoughts began to spiral.
You wanted to convince yourself that your troubles began and ended with school, but deep down, another darkness gnawed at you. It all felt so blissfully normal during your last study session at Jake’s apartment. The aroma of his homemade pasta mingled with the faint sound of an old movie playing in the background—one you secretly loathed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You sat there on the couch, sharing bites and laughter, and thought, “Damn. If only I could have this every day.”
That’s when the drinks had returned, and the recluse lifestyle set back in.
Falling for Jake wasn’t supposed to be on your radar. He was everything your brother loathed—everything you thought you shouldn’t want. With his polished career and a social life that sparkled with ease, he seemed to glide through life. You, on the other hand, felt like you were sinking, caught in a riptide of your own insecurities.
As Jake parked and walked you to your door, you couldn’t help but admire yet another annoyingly perfect trait of his—how he always walked you to the door, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You’ve been awfully quiet this whole ride here. You sure you’re okay?” His voice was low and laced with concern. He glanced down, catching the way your fingers nervously toyed with the hem of your shirt.
You hesitated, torn between the urge to unload the weight of your heart and the instinct to keep it all bottled up. “Just… a lot on my mind,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Want to talk about it?” His eyes searched yours, and in that moment, you felt the walls you’d built around yourself begin to crack, revealing the tangled mess of emotions you’d been trying so hard to suppress.
You looked away, the cool night air brushing against your skin, and realized that perhaps, just maybe, letting him in could be the first step toward something beautiful—or the beginning of yet another spiral.
The mature thing to do would be to lay it all out there, to let him in on the storm brewing inside your head. But maturity had never been your strong suit. “I think it’s a conversation for another night,” you said, forcing the words out as you unlocked the door and stepped inside. You turned to find Jake’s gaze heavy with concern, and your heart sank a little.
“I promise I’m fine, and it’s nothing.” You flashed a small smile, but it faltered under the weight of his skepticism.
“And when I leave here, are you just going to ignore me and slip back into that shell you’ve been hiding in?” He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe, exuding a mix of frustration and genuine worry.
You felt the familiar urge to run, to dodge the uncomfortable truth. You’d always sidestepped conflicts, always preferred to sweep emotions under the rug. But before you could catch yourself, the words spilled out. “I think I’m falling for you.”
It was the kind of confession that felt like a punch to the gut, and before you could process the fallout, you slammed the door in his face.
Silence filled the space, thick and suffocating. You leaned against the door, heart racing, half-expecting him to knock again or shout something—anything. But the only sound was your own breathing, rapid and shallow. What had you just done?
You were spiraling again, your mind racing through all the ways this could end badly. You pictured Jake standing there, processing your words, his expression shifting from surprise to hurt.
Why did you always have to make things so complicated?
After a moment, you heard a soft knock. Your heart thudded in your chest. “Hey,” Jake’s voice came through the wood, calm but tinged with confusion. “Can we talk about this? Please?”
You hesitated, grappling with the tumult of emotions. Part of you wanted to open the door and let him in, to unravel everything you’d kept bottled up. But another part, the one that had always chosen the path of least resistance, screamed at you to keep it shut.
What if you had just ruined everything?
A/N: Somehow this turned into a mini series...thoughts? Do we think Jake will feel the same? Part 5 in the works :) Thanks for reading!!
A/N: finally got another chapter out. The next one is already half written! Thanks for reading!
Word count: 2.1k
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With the sun blazing overhead and no missions scheduled, the pilots of the 100th found themselves lounging outside, a rare moment of relief in a world that had grown increasingly dangerous. Laughter mingled with the distant hum of planes as they basked in the rare downtime.
“Hey, if I died and left you a letter, what would you want in it?” Marley asked, chewing on the end of her pencil, her gaze lost in the sky. She leaned against her plane, surrounded by other pilots, the camaraderie a comforting backdrop to her darker thoughts.
The expressions she received were a mix of disbelief and concern. “Why the hell would you even ask something like that, Mar? You don’t get to die,” John shot back, shaking his head, though a flicker of worry crossed his face.
Marley pointed the eraser, chewed and battered, at him. “Looks like you’ll be surprised then. Maybe I’ll start the letter off with a joke.” She grinned, but the tension in her voice was palpable.
Buck watched their banter, a small smile creeping onto his face as he admired Marley’s knack for getting under John’s skin. Yet, the lightheartedness was short-lived; the gravity of their situation hung in the air. Each mission had become a gamble with fate, and everyone was painfully aware that the odds were shifting.
“Come on, talk some sense into her,” John pleaded, shifting his focus to Buck, hoping for a lifeline.
“Hey, Doll,” Buck chimed in, his tone light. “How about we put the letters aside for now and enjoy the sun?” Marley looked up, twirling her pencil as if trying to weave together her thoughts.
“What happens when we get called for a mission and the letters aren’t done? John was just complaining about me not saying goodbye before flying. If I don’t come back, what’s he going to have? A half-finished letter? I figured if he gets all torn up over a simple goodbye, at least he’d want something to hold onto. Plus, I was writing one for you, too.”
Buck sighed, glancing back at John. “She has a point.”
John scoffed, rising from the ground. “I’m going to find something better to do than this.” He pointed at Marley, a smirk creeping onto his face. “I want you to write the real story of what happened to Ma’s favorite vase. I need proof it wasn’t me.”
As he walked off, Marley shook her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Damn, he got me there.” Gale, sitting nearby, chuckled at the Egan sibling antics and shifted so Marley could lean against him instead of the plane.
“Have you thought about what you want after this?” Gale asked, his tone soft as he studied her expression, trying to gauge the weight of her thoughts.
“I want what every girl wants: a house, a husband, and kids,” Marley replied, her voice drifting into a hopeful daydream. “I just needed a little adventure before settling down. But if we make it out of this, I want something simple and safe. And John can’t be too far from me either. Not that he’ll let me out of his sight after all this.” A gentle smile settled on her face, one that grew when Gale asked where he fit into the picture.
“Well, you can either live down the street, wondering about what could have been, or you can be under the same roof as me, thanking the stars we both made it back safe.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head—a simple gesture that sent her heart racing.
“All the things I could’ve had, huh?” He teased, laughter bubbling up as he pulled her closer. “John isn’t the only one who’s never going to let you out of his sight. I promise you that.”
*******
Time slipped away too quickly, and soon the moon rose, casting shadows that whispered of new challenges ahead. Followed by sun rays hidden behind a thick blanket of fog.
“That’s not fair. I’ve always wanted to see the desert,” Marley complained over breakfast, her voice lively as she listened to John and Gale discuss their new mission.
John rolled his eyes, exasperated. “I think you missed the part where we’re in enemy territory for twice as long and damn near running out of fuel.”
Marley waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, but if you look past that, it sounds like an exciting flight!”
Buck couldn’t help but smile, even though the mission ahead filled him with dread. He never imagined he’d be flying to Africa, and the thought of Marley’s enthusiasm was a refreshing contrast to their grim reality.
“What do they have your group doing while we’re gone?” Buck asked, curiosity lighting up his face.
She shrugged, trying to mask her own unease. “Haven’t been told yet. But it can’t be anything exciting when they’ve got all of you headed to a different continent. Maybe we’ll even get a week off.”
Both men paused, confusion etched on their faces. John was the first to break the silence. “You haven’t been briefed on flying backup?”
Marley shook her head, her brow furrowing. “Not that I know of. But that doesn’t mean other fighters won’t be joining you. We’re still shorthanded after the last assignment.” Her squadron was down four pilots, and the loss still stung. The three of them had finished up breakfast and made their way out of the mess hall.
Unease settled over the trio as the fog outside thickened, putting a halt over their conversation.
“Marley! Let’s go!” Sparks yelled out for her, as he jogged towards one of the buildings.
As the call for a meeting came, Marley was unaware of the brewing storm involving the B-17s. She quickly said her goodbyes, urgency propelling her forward, already late as she dashed after her group. To her dismay, they weren’t getting a break; instead, they were heading out that evening on a small mission to assist the RAF with a night raid. Reports indicated increased enemy resistance, and Marley’s group drew the short straw.
With the B-17s roaring to life, she hoped they both made it back in one piece. Sparks nudged her shoulder, curious about her thoughts.
“Just a bad feeling about this one,” she confessed, her stomach twisting.
*****
Night enveloped them as the P-51s idled on the runway, waiting for the green flare. Marley tapped her fingers anxiously against the side of the plane, her heart racing as the countdown to takeoff loomed. She struggled to focus, knowing that lives were at stake—not just in enemy territory but on the journey ahead.
A green flare shot into the sky, igniting a flurry of motion among the six fighter pilots. It didn’t take long for them to rendezvous with the RAF, and even less time before enemy fighters began weaving menacingly through their formation. Marley hadn’t flown a night mission in ages, and she was quickly reminded of how disorienting the flashing lights and missiles could be.
Each flight was a deadly dance, with the minutes stretching into what felt like hours. For every move she made, an enemy plane seemed poised to counter it. The impact of their efforts felt minimal against the chaos, but she knew that without their presence, the bombers would surely fall like dominoes.
Adrenaline surged through her veins, dulling any aches from the intense speed of flight. It was only when bullets peppered the front of her plane that the reality of her situation began to sink in. Yet, the rush overshadowed any pain—until she landed.
As she stepped out of the cockpit, Sparks was already rushing toward her. “Marley, sit down!” he shouted, urgency ringing in his voice. “I need some help over here!”
She shot him a confused look. “What are you talking about? I’m fine.” But his gaze flickered upward to her helmet, and she instinctively pulled it off. A warm, sticky substance coated her fingers. Glancing down, her heart raced as she realized it was blood.
Mechanics hurried over, one of them being Lemmons. “Oh, hell. We need to get you to medical, Marley.”
The adrenaline began to wane, replaced by dizziness as the reality of her injuries set in. She felt blood dripping down the side of her face just before her vision blurred. Sparks caught her just as she started to pass out, and with Lemmons, they hurriedly carried her toward medical.
Betty looked up from her workstation when the door burst open. “What’s going on?” Her breath caught in her throat when she saw Marley limp in their arms. “Put her on the bed!”
Several other nurses rushed out, immediately springing into action upon seeing the state of their friend. They knew it was rare for fighter pilots to end up in their care, especially the younger Egan. One nurse shouted that they needed to wake the doctor, while others began cleaning the blood from Marley’s head and face.
“What happened?” Betty asked, glancing at Sparks, who had his hands on his head, visibly shaken.
“Captain Sutton, we need details!” she pressed. Sparks eyes met hers, and he shook his head, frustration evident.
“We took heavy fire up there, but she didn’t say anything. She landed and got out of her plane just fine. It wasn’t until I told her to sit down that she realized something was wrong.”
At that moment, the doctor strode in, instructing Lemmons and Sparks to step outside so he could work. Betty assured them she’d provide updates as they came.
Once outside, the two men leaned against the wall, tension hanging thick in the air. Lemmons stared at Marley’s plane, shaking his head in disbelief. “She shouldn’t have been able to land that.”
Sparks sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, exhaustion creeping in. “Egan’s are invincible. At least, this one is.”
Lemmons inhaled sharply. “Bucky is going to kill her when he finds out.”
All Sparks could do was nod, worry etching deeper lines on his face as they waited, knowing the battle was far from over.
******
A few hours had slipped away like shadows as Captain Sutton dozed against the building, the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. Betty spotted him there and approached, her heart racing with a mix of relief and concern. She gently tapped his shoulder, stirring him from sleep.
“Is she okay?” Sutton sprang up, his eyes wide with fear.
“She’s fine,” Betty reassured him, raising her hands as if to calm a startled bird. “A few stitches and a decent concussion, but she’ll pull through. The doctor says she’s grounded for a week, though—that’s going to be a challenge.”
Sparks raked a hand through his tousled hair, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Oh, thank God. All that blood made it seem a lot worse.”
Betty’s heart sank a little; she knew there was more to the story. The chaos of the emergency room still echoed in her mind—Marley had lost two units of blood and her pressure had dipped dangerously low, nearly sending her into cardiac arrest. It had taken a small army of medics to stabilize her, and even now, she needed time to recover.
“Let her rest here tonight. You can see her in the morning. It’s late, and you need to get some proper sleep before you end up in the bed next to her,” she said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Sparks nodded, gratitude softening his features. “Just make sure she doesn’t leave without one of us. I don’t trust her not to pull a stunt.”
Betty chuckled lightly, “Trust me, we all know the kind of trouble she gets into. Get some rest, Captain.”
As he walked away, she watched him go, her heart heavy. The pilots faced the dark realities of war every day, but she’d never worried much about Marley—fighter pilots seemed invincible, untouchable. Yet as the memory of her friend, bloodied and carried in like a fallen star, flashed through her mind, the illusion shattered. No one was safe from the horrors of conflict, and the weight of that truth settled like a stone in her gut.
A/N: Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you for reading!
Tag List: probabydeadbynow, affabletimelady, gilli-vanilli, bellesdreamyprofile
A/N: Sorry for being MIA. Here is an extra extra long chapter for ya!
Word count: 7.4K
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Ch 5
As the days went by, the 100th were starting to understand the harrows of war. Their latest mission had been one where they were hit hard, losing more friends in the process. Between them and the fighter pilots, it seemed like the numbers were falling faster than the military could replace. There was no healthy way to manage that kind of stress and loss, drinking became a coping mechanism for most. Which is why Marley was currently getting ready to go out that night alongside Betty.
“There have been rumors that your brother is single. Any chance that they are true?” Betty was taking the curlers out of her hair, trying to get as dolled up as she could.
Marley let out a hum of confirmation. “Also has herpes too. I’d steer clear if I were you.”
Betty scoffed, hitting the girl on the arm. “Oh stop. Keep saying things like that and the poor guy won’t have a lady within ten feet of him.”
Marley chuckled, fastening the last button on her uniform. “Serves him right. It took nearly a week for the guys to even look my direction after the threats he handed out.”
The two of them headed out to the pub that wasn’t too far off base. It was one that both the US and RAF frequented, having felt losses on both sides. Even with the mutual understanding of war, it didn’t mean they were understanding of each other.
When they arrived, Betty found some of the nurses from base and bid her friend adieu for the meantime. Marley, on the other hand, grabbed a beer from the bar and went to find her brother. It didn’t take much searching on her part when she heard yelling coming from a card table. Money, drinks, and cigarettes were going around the group of B-17 pilots, none of them giving a glance to the other end of the table.
She made eye contact with Buck first, the blonde motioning with his head for her to join them. Bucky saw her after Biddick moved over a seat to allow her room to sit with them all. “I think Marley is going to be my good luck charm this next hand.” Bucky glared at Biddick, making the pilot smirk as he got under the Major’s skin. “Maybe she can kiss my cards or somethin’. Really seal the deal for me wining.”
Marley chuckled at the balls this guy had to rile her brother up in front of everyone. Others seemed to find it amusing as well, biting back smiles so Bucky wouldn’t turn on them as well. She put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him from lunging out of his chair. “It’s a joke, John. Calm down before you get us all kicked out.” He relaxed back in his chair, sending one last glare to his so-called friend.
“You know, I rather admire you Americans.” One of the British officers cut in, making the group turn their attention to him. It was something about the tone he used that rubbed Marley the wrong way. She had worked alongside the RAF back at her other base, never having an issue with them. These ones though, seemed like they wanted to start some sort of pissing contest. “You’re all up there in broad daylight, seeming oblivious to the downsides.”
Jack Kidd shook his head, quickly defending his group. “I don’t understand what you are saying, Captain.”
The British officer smirked back at him, “Never mind old boy. One for the higher-ups.” He took a sip of his drink and continued, “It’s a question of philosophies. We bomb at night because it doesn’t matter what we hit, as long as it’s German. But bombing during the day is suicide. And clearly you are all lacking replacements as they are letting female’s join you lot.”
Marley took a sip of her beer, waiting to see how it all played out. This wasn’t the first time she had be looked down upon for being a female pilot and it surely won’t be the last. But the boys around her are experiencing this for the first time.
Bucky shook his head, “Someone seems threatened.” He had a calm exterior, not letting the Brit seem like he cared. But everyone around him knew he was a ticking time bomb.
“Nothing to be threatened by Major. I could foresee in the future American strategy adjusting due to the unfortunate losses you’ll no doubt continue to suffer. Math’s.” Marley rolled her eyes at the condescending tone he had, but her brother seemed confused at the last part. “Math’s?” He repeated it in a horrible British accent.
The groups went back and forth tearing each other’s strategies apart, but Marley tuned them out. It was always the same no matter where she went. With two different approaches to war, everyone believes theirs is the best. That they will be the reason to end the war. Realistically, they would be lucky if even half of them made it to the end with the way things were going.
It wasn’t until the egotistical Brit mentioned the P-51’s, did Marley give him her attention.
“The 100th have made a name for themselves throughout Europe. Bombing in large groups during broad daylight will do that for you. But the P-51’s having a female amongst them have nearly made them a laughingstock. I think I would rather fly alone out there than have the likes of her defending me.”
Buck was confused when Bucky didn’t defend his sister. With how close the two of them were, he figured he’d have to be holding him back from an all-out brawl. But what confused him more was the smile Bucky had plastered across his face.
Until he looked over to the younger Egan. Her eyes were sharp, making even the arrogant Brit across from them look away from her. The smirk on her face was one he’d seen too many times from his best friend, letting him know shit was indeed about to go down. And for once, he couldn’t wait to see an Egan in action.
“Tell me, how many targets have you actually hit? Or better yet, how much action have you seen? Because to me, it takes more effort for me to do my hair than fly a plane at night aimlessly dropping bombs.” Buck admired her ability to throw back at him without making it seem like his words got to her.
The RAF pilot did not share that admiration in the least bit. Before he could say anything back, Marley held up her hand, silencing the man. “Until you’ve actually done something productive in this war, keep your dick in your pants. Because I promise you it’s the smallest one here.”
Buck chuckled and leaned back in his chair, taking in the beauty that was Marley Egan. The flick of her hair dismissing him was the cherry on top, making the man across from them red in the face. “Who do you think you are to talk to a man like that?”
The table tensed at the clear misogynistic comment, but the female pilot surprised them and snorted. “Someone is overcompensating. Maybe you should go back to your Math’s.” She turned to her brother, “It was math’s, right?” Bucky nodded his head with a smirk. “Apparently there is more than one. Who knew?”
That seemed to be the last straw for the RAF pilot as he and the others started chirping about taking things outside. It didn’t take much convincing for the Americans to agree, nearly bouncing with joy as the group headed out the back door.
Marley watched as Biddick practically begged to be the one to take a shot at the British asshole, noticing Buck standing near her. “You didn’t want to throw your name in there? Something tells me you would be good when it came to a fight.”
Buck put his hands in his pockets, watching everything unfold. “As much as I wanted to slug him for the way he was treatin’ you, Biddick said he would owe me one. I’m more surprised you weren’t itching to get in there.”
He turned to look at her as she shrugged her shoulders. “With my luck we will have to fly out tomorrow. And flying with a bruised hand isn’t fun.”
His eyebrows rose at that comment, “You know from experience?” The smirk returned on her face and that told him everything. “There is a reason we are called fighter pilots. Not everyone gets to fly in a boat like you.”
Buck smiled and shook his head. Biddick had the RAF pilot down in one shot, signaling the night was coming to an end. “Kind of wished there would’ve been more of a fight. Too much talking for him to go down in one.” Bucky said, joining the two pilots.
“I’ll go a few rounds with you.” Buck took a strategic step forward at the younger Egan’s words, trying to place himself between the two of them. There was no doubt in his mind the two of them would start swinging for the fun of it.
“Three bucks says you can’t touch me.” Bucky was cracking his knuckles and Marley laughed. “Make it five and you have a deal.”
“I’ll buy you both a drink next time we are out if neither of you do this.” Buck had almost a pleading tone, making the two siblings’ step back from each other. Bucky threw an arm around his friend, “Live a little, Buck. A few bruises never killed anyone.”
Buck shook his head, “I don’t want to carry your ass all the way home after losing. I think the drinking is causing you to gain some weight. Gettin’ hard to lift you.”
Marley smiled, watching the two of them interact. The more time she spent with them, the more she was starting to understand their dynamic. Buck was someone her brother needed to ground him. And if she had to bet, Buck needed her brother in order to see a brighter side of living. While she didn’t know too much about the blonde pilot, something in his past had made him guarded.
“You coming, Mar? Don’t have all night to wait on you.” She picked up her steps at her brothers words and joined the pair as they decided to walk back to base, dragging out the night before dealing with tomorrows problems.
***
Today was the day both the 100th and the fighters were headed out on the same mission. The morning started like every other flight day. Wake up, eat, brief, preflight checks, and take off. But it was the first time both Egan siblings were experiencing it together.
Marley had taken to eating with her brother and Buck when the group met in the mess hall. It was an easy habit she formed, basking in whatever familiarity she could get while being away from home. But today was different and the older Egan picked up on it immediately.
“Why is she sitting over there?” Buck glanced to the direction his friend was looking at and saw what he was talking about. They had both sat down to eat their breakfast and Marley was currently a few tables down, deep in conversation with her squadron.
“Maybe she didn’t want to deal with you this early in the morning.” The blonde knew it had something to do with her routine. Everyone had one on flight day, some call it superstitions. But seeing as this was their first flight together, most chances were they would not be a part of her morning.
“I’m gonna say something.” Bucky went to get up until his friend said, “Leave her be. You stress her out enough as it is.” John turned his attention back to the blonde, eyebrows raised. “And how would you know that?”
The two pilots had started to talk more the longer they were at the base. What started as small talk here and there has morphed into deeper conversations, entrusting the other with secrets they wouldn’t want to get out. It was almost therapeutic, the way they could drop the walls around each other. But neither were sure how the Major would feel about his best friend and little sister becoming more than casual friends.
So, instead of telling the truth, Buck shrugged his shoulders, “Common sense. The two of you seem to get under each other’s skin at times.”
The older Egan huffed and shook his head, “Have you met her? The kid needs to be on a leash or something.”
Buck smiled and shook his head at the comment, thinking the same could be said about him.
The 100th found themselves in the briefing room, going over their mission for the day. Bombing German U-boat pens in Norway with Major Cleven leading them was the hefty task that laid ahead. But after the happy demotion from air exec. a few days earlier, Major Egan found himself flying with his boys again.
Before, John Egan would only worry about one thing at a time. When his sister flew, he worried about her getting back in one piece while he waited at the airstrip for her return. When the 100th flew, his focus was on his men and the mission at hand. Wanting to make sure they made positive impacts in this war and living to talk about it.
But never did he have to worry about both at the same time.
Buck picked up on the nervousness of his friend next to him. The brunette couldn’t sit still, constantly fidgeting with his hands and knee bouncing. As much as it was getting on his nerves by drawing his attention away from the briefing, he didn’t have it in him to tell him to stop.
The blonde pilot didn’t want to admit it, but he had more nerves this mission than the one before. They all knew there was some form of air support for them on these flights, but there was never a reason to know the people behind them.
The briefing went faster than either pilot wanted, but soon they found themselves waking out to their planes. The buzz of excitement on mission days has slowly dwindled down to nearly nothing. It seemed only the new crews that were fresh out of training wanted to go up.
“First day back up and it better not be your last.” Buck threw the comment out to try and pull his friend out of his thoughts. He hadn’t said much since they left the briefing and knew it had to do with his sister.
“You won’t be able to get rid of me that easily.” Bucky gave him a smirk but turned his attention back to the airstrip. He wasn’t sure if the fighters were done with their meeting, but he needed to see his sister before they all took off.
“Does she know you’re headed back up there?” Bucky knew he should’ve told Marley about the well-earned demotion before today, but he didn’t want her focus to be off if she knew one of the planes she’d be protecting was his.
“Nah, I thought it would be a fun surprise sharing the skies.” Cleven shook his head and asked, “Just like the surprise of her being a pilot?” John went to answer back when he saw the familiar braided hair walking up to her plane. “I’m going to fucking kill her.”
Buck watched as he ran off towards the one person who was going to put his friend into an early grave with the decisions she was making.
Marley!” The girl turned at the call of her name. Her brother running towards her, a task she didn’t know he could do.
“We are about to set some damn ground rules.” Her eyebrows rose at the demand. “And why would we do that?” She had a good feeling she knew why but wanted him to confirm it.
“You can’t keep going on these missions without so much as a goodbye. I thought I raised you better than that.”
“John, you ever think there was a reason for that?” He stood there, waiting for an answer.
Marley sighed and looked down the runway of planes getting ready to take off. “A goodbye is something final. It’s accepting the fact that I might not make it back to say anything more. I guess leaving with things unfinished gave me a good reason to come back.”
Bucky didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure if it was the war or simply time that had matured his sister, but he didn’t like it.
“I need you to stop looking out for me. I’m a big boy and can handle it. But what I can’t handle is seeing you get into that plane and pretend like we aren’t in this god damn war together.” He watched as Marley looked back to him and then looked down.
“I really thought going to war together would be more fun than this.” Bucky snorted at her comment and pulled his sister into a hug. “It’ll be more fun when we make it out of this together.” He pulled back and Marley asked what he did all day when everyone was on a mission. This time it was his turn to avoid eye contact.
“Well, I used to sit around and make sure I could count high enough to be able to count the planes coming back in. But, uh, now I don’t have to do that anymore.”
Marley sighed as she put the pieces together, something that surprised John. He thought she would be more upset with him holding back information. “I thought it would just be Gale up there I’d have to look out for. But now I’ll try my hardest to watch out for you both.”
Before he could respond, one of the guys from his crew was yelling at him to get a move on. He turned back to his sister before he walked off and said, “Make it back in one piece, will ya. I don’t need Ma flying all the way out here to kill me. Doesn’t make for a good story going out like that in a war like this.” Marley laughed and got back to her preflight checks.
Footsteps were heard drawing near her as she looked at something under her plane. Figuring it was her brother she yelled out, “Last I checked, you know nothing about P-51’s, John, so you’re just going to get in the way. Hell, I’d be surprised if you even know much about your own plane.”
The chuckle she heard came from someone that was in fact not her brother. Marley popped her head out from under her plane and saw Major Cleven leaning against the wing.
“Ah, sorry about that Major. There is no doubt in my mind you are well versed in all thing’s bomber planes.” Buck couldn’t help but smile at the lopsided grin she gave him.
“I do know a thing or two. Can’t say much about your brother, though.” He glanced over her plane, seeing the bullet holes patched up from her last mission. “How are you feeling?” His eyes made his way back to hers and couldn’t help but notice something different in them.
“Will be more excited when this mission is over. But the plane looks good. They fixed her up better than I could’ve wished for.” He watched as she spun the little bit of hair from the end of her braid around her finger. Her voice was steady and posture strong. She was the picture of calm. But that little gesture showed him a new part of her that he would lock away for safe keeping. Marley was nervous just as her brother was and he hated that there wasn’t much he could do about it.
Planes were starting up and the blonde knew he needed to get back to his crew. “Stay safe up there, Mar.” He gave her shoulder a light squeeze and walked off.
“Hey Cleven.” He turned around at her voice. “Do me a favor and try not to get shot down.” He gave her a small salute, “Yes ma’am.”
It wasn’t much longer until Marley watched as the 100th started flying out. With her group being faster, they would take off a little later to allow for the best defensive strategy against the Luftwaffe fighter planes.
With it being their first mission together at the same base, she felt weird with how the timings were different. Watching the small dots in the sky disappear while she sat in her plane only made the nerves grow higher.
Marley wasn’t good at too many things, but flying was something she took pride in. She seemed to have a natural skill for it, as well as a passion. It was why she was able to pry her way into this war. While it was technically a job, she loved every bit of it and the freedom of flying in the wide-open skies. But sometimes that love faltered when she saw fellow pilots getting shot out of the sky.
It was turning into a normal occurrence, seeing the small P-51’s with fire coming off the back of them. Or the plane spiraling out of control, hoping that the reason was because the pilot bailed. The only thing Marley could do was pray neither of those things happened to her.
A flare went up, signaling it was their time to go. The plane sped down the runway right after a few of her fellow pilots, effortlessly making its way into the sky. It wouldn’t take long before the group caught up to the 100th, indicating the start of another harsh mission. It was an eerie feeling for Marley, flying headfirst into deadly dogfights without hesitation. Especially after the rising amount of enemy fighter’s last mission.
Just as the higher ups had planned, the P-51 fighters met up with the 100th as enemy pilots started their attack. Marley gripped the yoke of the plane tighter, trying to visualize the best path for her to take. The mix between the three different groups were starting to blend together, making it difficult for a clear route.
But as soon as she saw one of the B-17’s fall from the sky, instinct took over and she forced her way into the chaos.
As soon as the flak stopped around them, Buck knew the hardest part of the mission was upon them. The skies were unnaturally quiet, causing all the men to tense up. “Make sure all the guns are loaded. They will be here any second now.” Major Cleven tried to get his men ready as the inevitable was about to happen.
“Enemy fighters 3 o’clock!” One of the men yelled out, signaling the beginning of the uphill battle. Gale almost felt helpless, keeping the plane in the air as the men around him fought for all their lives. With as big of a formation as theirs was, there wasn’t much room for movement or evasion. He simply prayed they weren’t targeted, and that air support would be there soon.
“P-51’s just joined the fight!” Buck wanted to feel some relief but knowing that Marley was in that group made it challenging. At least the smaller planes would be able to escape fire if needed. He watched as the P-51’s skillfully weaved in and out of their group, making it look more like a dance than a dogfight.
“Anyone have eyes on Marley?” Buck looked around at the traffic in the sky but couldn’t see her. Not that it was easy to see much of anything with gunfire and smoke filling the air.
“They all look the same, Major. the only thing I can say for certain is how many get shot down.” Buck slightly shook his head at those words, not doing a damn thing to reassure him.
“Keep your eyes peeled. Try not to cause any friendly fire.” The last thing any of them needed was one of the bombers shooting down one of their own.
Buck’s grip on the controls never let up until they were past the drop site and on the safe part of the route back to base. Both sets of fighter pilots had since left, having completed their tasks as well as they could. But Buck couldn’t get his mind off the younger Egan.
He didn’t want to admit it, but more P-51’s had been shot down this time around than they had seen before. The enemy had upped their resources while their side seemed to have stuck to the same numbers. Statistically speaking, odds weren’t in their favor.
Buck shook his head at his thoughts. The war was already tough enough as it is, but Marley Egan was making things harder by having him worry about her well-being. How the hell he was supposed to make it to the end like this was something he wasn’t sure of. But what he did know was that his feelings for the female pilot were slowly growing and there was no way to stop them. If this war wasn’t going to be the death of him, she might as well be.
***
As the B-17's landed back at base, both Majors were looking for Marley. The only issue was the fighters had landed over an hour ago and they were currently being forced onto the back of a truck and into interrogation.
Bucky's eyes met his friend's, and it was clear neither one of them had gotten anywhere with finding her. "I counted six P-51's. But I can't tell which one is hers." John quickly looked over at the planes after the blonde had mentioned the numbers. "Shit."
The truck they were both in started moving away from the airstrip, leaving the two Majors more nervous than before the mission. Buck saw the hard look on his friends face and knew there wasn't much he could say to make things better. Four planes didn't come back, and they saw firsthand why.
Bucky kept replaying the mission over in his head. It had been a while since he'd been up on the observation flights, but today seemed worse out there than before. The numbers increased on every aspect. More Luftwaffe fighter planes, more planes falling from the sky, and ultimately more deaths. But was his sister part of those numbers?
Before this mission, Bucky didn't pay too much attention to anyone else in the sky besides his men and whatever enemy plane was trying to take them out. Today was different, having him watch the small P-5l's coming to their aid. The way they skillfully maneuvered in the sky made it look like a dance between the two different fighter groups. It almost made him proud knowing his sister was one of those skilled pilots. Almost.
Both Majors had to turn off any emotions surrounding the younger Egan as they walked into the interrogation room, making sure they covered every detail they could remember. The mission took a slight turn, having their navigator find a new path home to make sure Biddick landed safe and out of enemy territory. Another reason why it took longer for the group to get back.
Buck and his crew were done before his friend, giving him the chance to find out what happened to their counterparts. Knowing there was a chance he was going to have to act as the levelheaded one if something had happened to Marley. His first thought was to check medical, hoping if she was in there it was for something minor.
Betty was in there, refilling some supplies when she saw Major Cleven walk through the door. The usual stoic pilot had a sense of urgency today and she had a good feeling she knew why. She watched as his eyes passed over all the beds trying to figure out if he looked relieved or worried. "How can I help you, Major?"
His eyes moved from the beds to the blonde nurse walking towards him. "You haven't seen Captain Egan, have you?" Betty shook her head, "Captain Sutton would be the one to ask. We haven't heard much from their group."
Buck knew what meant. When a P-51 gets shot down or a pilot was hurt, most chances where they never made it in here. He let out a deep breath and thanked her. The mess hall would be his next stop to see if any of the other fighters were there. "Major! When you hear something, could you let me know? Usually, she comes by to show me she's okay, but I haven't seen her yet."
His heart nearly stopped when he took in those words. Four planes never made it back and the pilot didn't make it by to see her friend. It was too early in this war for something to happen to her. All he could do was nod his head as he walked out.
Luck continued to run out as Bucky jogged towards him. He could see the worry on his face and knew what he was about to tell him wouldn't ease that. "Not in medical. Betty said to ask Sutton what happened."
Bucky ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, "Fuck. I don't like this. She never should've followed me out here."
There wasn't much he could say to calm his friend. They were both out there. They saw what it was like in the air and knew it took a whole lot of skill and luck to make it out of it alive.
The pair made their way to the mess hall and saw a few men scattered about. Usually after a mission everyone went straight to drinking, most not having a stomach for food after what they had been through or seen. Which made it easy to spot the other captain sitting with what they assumed was the remaining pilots from their group.
John moved at a fast pace when he clocked the man he needed, forcing Buck to nearly jog after him.
"Tell me she isn't dead. Tell me you aren't sitting here eating as her plane is in the ground somewhere." His tone came out sharp, clearly looking to take his frustrations out on anyone he could.
Captain Sutton already knew the oldest Egan would be coming to find him. And from the few interactions they've had together, he knew not to take things too personal. So, when they words flew out of the Major's mouth, Sutton took a sip of his coffee and calmly turned to him.
"Had a little mishap. Should be flying back soon from another base in England."
John had a sense of relief hearing she wasn't a POW or worse, but after being wound up tight since they landed, it wasn't enough to settle him down. "What kind of mishap? Is she hurt?"
Sutton shook his head, "All I was told is that she had engine problems and wasn't going to make it back here. They gave her new coordinates and orders to fly back when the plane was fixed. You can stand there and berate me as much as you want, but that is all the information I have."
John ran a hand through his hair as Bucky thanked him for the update. They both knew this was the best-case scenario, but until she physically landed back at base, there was still an ounce of doubt.
Sutton watched as the two Majors processed that information, seeing them both still tense. It wasn't lost on anyone that Marley had become someone important to Major Cleven. The two of them seemed to click instantly, whether it was as friends or more. Which is why he decided to add, "Marley is one of the best pilots I've seen. She's levelheaded and has some crazy talent. There is a reason why she broke down so many barriers and became an active female fighter pilot. I know it's hard but have some faith in her. If there is any one of us that is going to make it to the end of this war, it's her."
The two Majors nodded their heads and thanked him. John turned to walk out the mess hall without another word, but Gale stayed behind for a minute. "How bad was it up there for you guys?"
Sutton let out a deep breath. "The more we go up, the worse it seems. Not too sure what the higher ups have planned, but something needs to change. We are losing too many good people."
Gale could only nod his head. What he said was true for both sides. Too many planes kept falling and he wondered when they would run out of replacements. "We are going out tonight if you want to join. Try and get our minds off today."
The captain gave him a quick nod and Buck left to go find his friend.
***
The day dragged on and soon the sun was setting along the horizon. No one had heard a thing about Marley, but they held onto hope that she would be landing soon. For once, Bucky had to drag the oldest Egan out to where the 100th was drinking.
It was an eerie sight, seeing the lone jeep next to an empty runway. A few people had tried to coax the Major into coming in, but he wasn't having it. Buck could only pray nothing happened to Marley during this war. Because if this was how John reacted to the delayed arrival, he could only imagine what a loss would do to him.
"She's coming back. You sitting here waiting is not going to speed that up." Buck watched as his friend shook his head, "Not in a partying mood, Buck."
"No one said anything about partying. Just a drink or two while we pass the time. You know she is going to be pissed if she sees you out here while everyone else is inside." He watched as John slowly nodded his head.
"Fine. But I'm coming out here every hour to see if she's landed. Knowing her, she's going to head straight to bed without letting us know she's back." Buck knew he had a point. With her track record of running off without so much as a glance, it wouldn't surprise him to see her plane sitting there in the morning without a heads up.
John started the jeep up and went to drive off until he heard the sound of a plane in the distance. The pair stood up and watched in silence as a P-51 made their decent to the runway. Neither moved until it shut off and the familiar braid popped up when getting out of the cockpit.
"Thank god." Was heard as a near whisper from Major Egan as he watched her climb down with zero assistance.
Marley greeted the two Majors with a smile. "Fancy seeing you here this late at night. Almost makes me wonder if you've been sulking out here all day."
Bucky scoffed but the blond had to cough to cover up a laugh. "What happened Marley?" She continued to walk towards them, taking her flight jacket off. "I'm good. Thanks for asking."
She didn't miss the eye roll her brother gave her but shrugged it off. "Can we walk to the mess hall? I haven't eaten since this morning." The two nodded their heads and the trio started walking.
"As you both know it was a complete shit show up there. It was like we would shoot one down and three more came at us. It didn't really seem like we were making much of a difference with how many enemy fighters were up there." She ran a shaky hand through her hair. Something Buck picked up on but knew her brother missed it. Today shook her up more than she was letting on.
"Out of nowhere, the side of my plane was sprayed. Luckily it was near the end, and I was able to steady it out without having to eject. I was given new coordinates to a closer base and landed right outside of the runway. Took them nearly all day to fix up the plane but got interrogation out of the way there at least. Now I'm here."
They walked into the mess hall, the two boys trailing her as she grabbed a few things to eat. Neither spoke a word until they sat down, occupying the only table in the building.
"How are you, Mar?" Gale knew her brother was still processing things and tried to get some more information out of her.
She took a bite of an apple, buying herself time to formulate an answer. She'd be lying if she said today didn't shake her up. Feeling the bullets hit the plane and then watching as she slowly lost control of it, was enough to give her nightmares. But she couldn't tell her brother that. It was clear as day he worried enough about her as it is.
So, instead she swallowed the piece of apple and shrugged her shoulders. "It sucked taking this long to get back. And the guys there were not nearly as welcoming as the ones here. But it sure beats becoming a POW."
Buck knew that answer was brushing over how she really felt. But what he wasn't expecting was her brother to also pick up on it.
"Want to give me the real answer and not the bullshit one?"
Marley's eyes snapped up to her brother's, clearly surprised at his question. She looked down and bit her lip. Confidence fading.
"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on." John's voice had a bite to it, and Buck knew she wasn't going to respond well to it. They were more similar than they each believed.
"I never asked for your damn help, John." She stood up causing her brother to do the same.
"Sit your ass back down. We aren't done talking." The eye roll she gave him back only caused things to escalate.
"I say we are." She started walking away, making her brother follow. Buck quickly jumped in between the two and gently pushed the oldest Egan back. "Not now. Give her time to recover from today. She just got back."
John didn't put up much of a fight. As much as he wanted to push the issue of his sister keeping things from him, Buck was right. Today was hard on everyone, but they've had hours to recover. She had been back for less than thirty minutes.
They heard the door of the mess hall shut and gone was the youngest Egan.
"I need a damn drink." Buck gave John a single nod and the two of them went the opposite way of Marley.
***
Marley had quickly showered, taking advantage that the girls were out with everyone else. It didn't take long to wash off the day and put on more casual clothes. She toyed with the idea of meeting everyone out, but the interaction with her brother had her cautious. It was a long ass day, and her fuse was already short. She didn't think getting into a fight in front of everyone would be good for either of them.
But she knew she needed to see her team, or what's left of it, and Betty. Today was hell for everyone and she needed to remember that. So, she put some shoes on and started the long walk to the Officers Mess.
The air was nice and crisp, almost considered cold. Marley forgot to bring a jacket, but the chilly breeze was a nice reminder that she was in fact still in once piece and back in her temporary home.
Today was a brutal reminder that getting close to people out here was dangerous. Marley considered it a wakeup call, knowing she needed to start putting some distance between her and the blond Major. While things hadn't progressed beyond a friend stage, she knew that giving it more time could potentially cause heartbreak. He was someone she could see herself falling for, but war was a selfish thing. War would take anyone and everyone from you without any remorse. Only fools would hold onto hope out here.
Before Marley could reach her destination, sirens went off, signaling a possible air raid. It was one of the last sounds she heard when fleeing from her original base not too long ago. Men ran from buildings, seeking shelter in the bunkers they had throughout the base. But Marley could see the smoke in the distance, and knew they weren't in any danger.
Captain Sutton saw Marley and let out a sigh of relief. When he saw Major Egan chugging his drink earlier, he assumed she was back but didn't know in what shape. Seeing her walk on her own was a promising sign.
"Reminds me of old times." Marley turned her head and saw Sparks walking up to her. A smile crossed her face, and she gave him a quick hug. "Glad to see you made it back. I heard we lost more this time around."
All he did was nod his head, not wanting to talk about the friends they continued to lose. "You make it back okay?" She gave him the same nod in return. Neither pushing the other for more.
The two Majors were rushing outside with the rest, praying nothing would happen to their base. But as they reached the bunker, they noticed none of the fighter pilots had made their way to the bunkers.
"The hell you doin', Mar? Get down here." Marley shook her head at her brothers demand and sat on the ground outside looking out at the sky. "Too far for us to be hit."
Bucky made eye contact with his friend, neither knowing what to do. It wasn't often air raids happened this close to base, but they sounded an alarm for a reason.
"Marlene, I swear to god if you made it back just to get taken out by an air raid we had warning about, I will bring you back from the dead and kill you myself." Sparks chuckled as he sat down next to his friend. "Overprotective much."
Marley sighed and nodded her head, "You have no idea." She looked over her shoulder and saw both Majors attention on her. "We got these all the time before we were actually hit. Trust me, this one is too far to do any damage. Think of it as fourth of July and some really expensive fireworks are going off."
Buck hated the way his heart clenched at her explanation. He watched as she laughed with her friend next to her, not having a care in the world while the rest of them held onto a small shred of fear at what was happening in the distance.
"She's lost it. That's the only explanation I have for it." Bucky looked on as his sister was lounging in the grass, watching the bombs go off as it was some sort of show.
"Leave her be. She's happy." Bucky turned his attention to his friend after that statement. There was a moment of silence before John said, "Just promise me you'll look after her."
Gale looked at his friend confused, "What are you talking about?"
John looked back over to his sister, small smile on his face as he saw her throw her head back and laugh. "As much as she thinks I don't see things, I do. So, do me a favor and don't hurt her. She's been through too much already."
Instead of arguing that there was nothing goin on between then, Gale shrugged his jacket off. "Marley!" Her head turned at the sound of her name being called. Buck tossed her his jacket and she caught it with ease. "It's too cold out here without it." She slipped the warm jacket on and thanked him. He answered back with a wink, not missing the way her cheeks had a tint of pink to them.
War might be ruthless and hope was a foolish thing, but love always manages to overpower, making you feel invincible.
To everyone who reblogs one of my fics, thank you thank you thank you! There is nothing worse than writing something, especially in a new fandom, and feeling like it isn’t worth the read. Writing and sharing is scary sometimes. The reblogs are what keep me going 🤍
please please please please reblog if you’re a writer and have at some point felt like your writing is getting worse. I need to know if I’m the only one who’s struggling with these thoughts
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