DESCRIPTION: Ever since you started dating Bob, his wardrobe’s had a serious glow-up, thanks to your love of dressing him up like your own personal Build-A-Bear. But on a lazy mall day, you challenge him to return the favor, asking him to pick out an outfit for you.
WORD COUNT: 2.8k
WARNINGS: Fluff/Domestic fluff, Reader loves gift giving, jokes/implications of smut.
NOTES: Happy 4th! Here's me manifesting a boyfriend to dress up.
MY MASTERLIST - READ ON AO3!
Dressing up Bob was Y/n’s favorite thing to do. And the man never protested. How could he when he’d show up to The Hard Deck in an outfit she had picked to impress the Dagger Squad? His style had improved drastically since starting to date her.
It began with her giving him simple shirts that were a little nicer than his old ones. Some of his old shirts were still from high school, so it was nice to have some options that didn’t look like rags. She was a gift-giver, and Bob had to quickly get used to that. Then it slowly devolved to him asking her for fashion advice just to see her face light up with excitement.
What Bob enjoyed about it, was that she never put him in clothes that didn’t match his vibe. She never tried to make him into someone he’s not- with leather jackets or sports jerseys. The outfits were usually simple and practical. A more simplistic T-shirt that fit him a little more snugly than his old ones, tucked into a nice pair of jeans or slacks. She’d find a matching baseball cap or dad hat. It had gotten to the point where they shared a collection of hats. They loved gifting each other caps, just to add to the pile they could dig through before leaving.
And she never made him take off his glasses. She never asked him to get contacts. And when he asked her why she never suggested it, she smiled.
“I think they’re cute.”
No one had ever said that before. The military-grade wireframes were just a little too big for his face, and they looked like they were plucked straight from an 80s movie. But they were the only ones he was allowed to wear that didn’t look like swim goggles.
So when his girl said that, he couldn’t help the smile and red blush that spread across his apple cheeks. The compliment was so simple, yet every time he wore his glasses, he thought of it and felt his heart melt into a puddle.
It was a warm Saturday morning, and Bob walked into the bedroom to find his girlfriend combing through her closet. She popped her hip out and put her hand to her chin in thought. Bob leaned against the door frame.
“Where you headed?” He asked curiously
She turned, “I think it’s a good day to go to the mall. Wanna come with?”
Bob nodded. A day at the mall with his girl sounded perfect, and it’s not like he had anything else to do. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and she reached up to pat his cheek. As she scratched the back of his scalp, he closed his eyes relaxed.
“Wanna dress me?” He asked
And he got the reaction he always did. A beaming smile from her and a very eager nod.
“I was thinking about getting some new shirts for you today, too.” She said, smiling.
He chuckled, “Baby, you do too much.”
She shrugged and looked at their reflection in the closet mirror. After a moment, a mischievous grin appeared on her face.
“I have an idea.”
Bob raised a brow. “Should I be scared?”
“I need some new clothes myself. How about… I dress you and you dress me? Maybe then you’ll understand why I love dressing you up so much.”
He smiled shyly and shook his head. “Oh, I know nothing about fashion, though.”
“There’s gotta be things you wanna see me in.” She smirked a little, and that made Bob blush and huff again, “I mean- you like it when I wear certain things too.”
He hated that his mind went immediately to her bathing suits. But then he also remembered some of the dresses she’d wear to The Hard Deck. He loved seeing her legs and anything that accentuated her hips. But he’d never specifically ask her to wear anything like that. He didn’t want her to be uncomfortable for his sake.
“Okay, but we don’t have to buy anything I pick out.” He said softly
“It’ll be great. Here- why don’t we start at home first? Test run. I’ll dress you, then you dress me.” She said, turning around to be face to face him now.
He nodded.
Thirty minutes later, he stood in a typical Y/n fit for him. A white T-shirt, this one a little baggier, tucked into brow corduroy trousers and a belt. She put a navy blue hat on him that they had gotten from the Top Gun store. Well, he had bought it for her, and she loved making him wear it. Her tongue stuck out of her lip as she focused on adjusting his hair under the hat. A watch laid on his wrist, and he stood in a pair of brown Doc-like shoes.
“There.” She stood back, looking over his outfit, pleased with herself. “You look very handsome, Lieutenant Floyd.”
He blushed at the title, “Only because of you.”
Her eyes lit up. “My turn.” She led him to the closet and opened it. “Go ahead. Have at it.”
His eyes widened, and he walked up to her side of the closet. “I-I don’t even know where to start.”
She laughed, and he started combing through the racks. He tried to think of some outfits that she had worn before. What were some things that she liked to wear? It was a warmer day, but he also knew she got cold easily, so he needed to find something lightweight that covered her arms for when they were indoors.
He brought out a soft green button-up top that he liked the material of. He showed it to her with a hesitant eyebrow raise, and she laughed.
“Yes, I can wear that.”
He looked back at the closet and went to the section of the bottoms. He found a pair of tan linen shorts and put the two hangers together. His brows scrunched up, trying to figure out if it was a good match before nodding to himself. The whole time, he could hear her giggle as she watched him through his thought process. He picked out a dark brown belt and a khaki Ralph Lauren jacket that he knew fit a little oversized on her.
“Would this work?” He asked, showing her the hangers.
She smiled and looked over his choices. “Yes. I think this would be great.”
After she got dressed, she spun for Bob. He did a pretty good job. No clashing colors and the fit of everything was nice.
“Look at you. You’re a natural.” She commented, “I’m gonna wear this combination more.”
He was too busy staring in awe to respond. Yeah, he was starting to understand why she loved dressing him so much. She looked so pretty, and even though she always did in his eyes, he took this new sense of pride in picking that outfit. His hand was to his mouth as he admired her. She let the jacket hang over her shoulders, showing the outline of her body in the shirt and shorts.
She noticed his silence and giggled, “You get it now?”
He nodded with a blushing smile. “Yes. Yes, I get it now.”
“It’s like having a human Build-A-Bear.” She nodded enthusiastically, making him suddenly laugh loudly.
“Yeah-yeah, I guess it’s a little like that.” He smiled.
She put her hand out, and when he took it, she pulled him off the bed. She looked up at him, and his heart pounded in his chest. They’d been dating for close to two years at this point and he still got butterflies looking at her. And the fact that she was wearing the outfit he put together just intensified it.
He gently brushed her hair out of her face.
“Ready to go, pretty girl?” He asked
She nodded, “Yup! Wanna hit Hard Deck after the mall? I think Bradley said something about wanting to get a group to go tonight.”
“Would love to.” He kissed her forehead.
Usually at H&M, it was Y/n scouring the sales racks while Bob followed her around like a lost dog. He’d sometimes hold onto a bag of greasy mall food so they could share. She’d look through both the men's and women's sections because she knew there’d be stuff for either one of them. And he’d talk and joke with her. If she pulled out a shirt for him, he’d say whether he liked it or not, which was usually a passive yes.
But now he was trying to participate with her. She looked up at him with a smile as he looked through the racks… Still lost. He picked out what seemingly looked like a strip of fabric.
“Is this a… skirt? Or a bandana?” He asked
She laughed, “Tube top. I don’t really wear those much.”
He put it back. “Alrighty.” He timidly looked around.
She gasped and grabbed a sage green Carhartt sweater. “This would be very cute on you. What do you think?”
He rubbed his neck with a smile, “Baby, you know I’ll wear quite literally anything. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
She laughed and draped the sweater on her arm. “Here, I’ll give you some pointers for me. I don’t wear many tube tops. Any tight clubbing dresses won’t really be of use to me because I have some already. So I’m looking for just nicer casual clothes.”
He nodded, understanding. Okay, that narrows it down. Combing through the racks, he still wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Yeah, sure, there were graphic T-shirts that said Harvard and New York on them, but he was a little confused, considering neither of them had a connection there. Why would they wear something with a random city or college on it?
Then he paused once he hit the dresses. His eyes immediately froze on a short white halter dress, and when he looked closer, he found little embroidered cherries all over it. He pictured her wearing it, and a small smile appeared on his face. But he also didn’t know if this was casual enough. He also couldn’t tell if she’d find it tacky, which he knew she tended to do with prints.
He looked up and saw her looking down another aisle. She heard him pause and looked over her shoulder. “Find something?”
“I don’t know.” He said conflicted, “I don’t know if you’ll like it.”
She walked over to the opposite side of his rack. “Show me.”
He pulled out the dress and held it up delicately- as if it were a bomb.
“That’s so cute! I’ll try it on.” She smiled, “Pick some more out.”
Bob sighed with relief and nodded.
Somehow, in thirty minutes, Bob ended up finding more things for her to try on than vice versa. Her face lit up at that fact, and she was practically skipping to the dressing rooms. They swapped hangers, and she went first. Now this was something Bob was a little more used to. He’d sit on the designated boyfriend couch or chair that most dressing rooms had, and wait for her to come out to show him the options.
But now it felt a little different. Now he was actively involved instead of a passive spectator. There felt like stakes- like if he didn’t pick out anything good, he’d be walking out a little embarrassed.
“BOB!” She squealed from inside the dressing room, and he perked up nervously. Oh god. Did he get the wrong size? Did she hate it? “You’re good at this!” She giggled.
He sighed in relief again.
She came out a few seconds after in a simple white V-neck sweater with a navy blue stripe across it. A fitted denim skirt showed underneath, and Bob felt like he was going to die. It showed off her legs, and she looked simply beautiful in the outfit. The grin on his face couldn’t be replicated.
She posed and gave a little spin, and his whole face went completely red. And this was just outfit one. “I like it! This is definitely a keeper.”
“I-I really like it. You look comfy.”
“The material is so nice.” She said, feeling the soft fabric of the sweater.
He nodded. He couldn’t lie that the feel of the fabric was really a driving factor. It was already a reason why he picked out the shirt she was wearing that day. He liked being able to hold her and feel something soft rather than something hard and tight.
She went back into the dressing room, and Bob was unsure if he was gonna survive this.
There were a few more outfits. A sleeveless polo top with some nice jeans. A few retro-looking oversized shirts, he knew she’d probably pair with some bike shorts. And then a few nicer blouses that were more of a gamble for him to decide.
“I’d say yes to all of these if we had the money.” She chuckled in a blouse and the shorts she came in wearing. “I think I’m gonna go with that sweater, the jeans, and a few of the shirts. But I’ve still got that dress to try on.”
He nodded. Hell, he’d buy the rest of the clothes for her. His love language was much more acts of service and physical touch. But this whole trip was making him understand why she’d come home with a new shirt or cap for him after a day out.
She walked back in and, after a few moments, peeked her head out the door.
“Oh. I’m getting this.” She said with an excited smirk before walking out.
Bob’s eyes popped out of his skull as she came out in the little white dress that he had picked out. It fit her perfectly and wrapped snugly around her waist before flaring out. The deep cut of the halter was well… pleasing to Bob for a multitude of reasons.
“I’m gonna wear this tonight.” She declared, giving him a spin.
“Jesus C-hrist-” He stammered, his heart hammering and all the blood rushing to his cheeks and ears.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She said, laughing. “I love it. Jeez, I’m taking you with me shopping more often. You find good stuff.”
He nodded eagerly. “Please.” His voice was small.
That night at The Hard Deck, the couple walked in dressed in their new clothes. Y/n strutted in her new dress and a pair of sandals. She had decorated herself with jewelry and put her hair up. Bob held her hand in a maroon Henley with a white tee underneath. A pair of dark wash jeans down his legs and the same navy blue hat from earlier. They slightly matched, but it wasn’t in a cheesy way. His layered shirts matched the print on her dress.
As they walked up to the usual pool table, Hangman whistled at their arrival.
“Look at you two! All dolled up for little old us.” He teased
Phoenix looked up as she was leaning on the pool table, aiming. Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy all turned and smiled.
“We went to the mall today!” Y/n reported excitedly.
Bob nodded in confirmation.
“God bless you, Y/n. Bob actually looks presentable now.” Phoenix said before shooting her ball and sending a solid into a pocket.
Rooster snorted, “Yeah, he’s not wearing anything to do with the Navy or video games. He didn’t know a damn thing about dressing himself.”
The group laughed, and Bob smiled, shrugging.
“Well, actually, Bob picked out this dress for me, too,” She explained.
“No shot.” Payback laughed.
“It’s true!” She said, “I found out today he’s way too good at picking out clothes for me. Almost bought a whole new wardrobe.”
Phoenix eyed the dress, “Good job, Bob.”
Bob smiled shyly. “She’s always picking out my clothes, so she asked me to do the same for her. It’s-it’s fun.”
Hangman lined his shot up, clearly his turn. “Take the man to Victoria’s Secret next.” Rooster smacked him upright the head. “WHAT? I’m just saying. Every guy loves that.”
Y/n gasped with a smile, “Wait! That’s genius.”
Bob choked and coughed in shock, making the group laugh again.
“You’re welcome,” Hangman smirked, shooting the ball.
She looked over at Bob with a mischievous smile. Leaning in, she whispered, “You’re off tomorrow, right?”
He nodded, and she simply flashed him a knowing look and then went over to properly greet Fanboy and Payback. Bob stood frozen and blinking, admiring how gorgeous she looked. Especially as she laughed, her glossed lips curving up. Her golden necklace flashed under the warm lights of the bar, and it rested right on the skin revealed in her halter. It made his breath hitch.
A new sense of excitement built up in him. Considering she loved to dress herself, he knew it wouldn’t be an everyday thing. But he looked forward to the next time she’d ask him what to wear- now that he knew what it felt like to see her proudly show off his handiwork. That had to be another reason why she loved to dress him. He had her name written all over him. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
i feel like Mav is like the proudest dad in the world and talks about the Daggers all the time but rarely uses their actual names which often results in people thinking he has wayyy less kids then he actually does
like people will talk to him and he mentions his “darling baby boy, his oldest son, his baby bird” (Rooster) and tell stories about him and stuff, but he also tells stories about his “little spitfire, the troublemaker,” (Hangman) and somewhere along the way it gets misinterpreted that these are the same people
this happens with several of the daggers until everyone is a mixture of everyone and the only idenifiers are that sometimes Mav says his daughter instead of his son and general age range.
there’s probably a debate/bet between a lot of the people who have heard the stories but dont know who the Daggers are about how many kids Mav actually has
The general consensus is that he has 4, but guesses range anywhere between 3-9 (3 as the min because his oldest who is assumed to be boy, at least 1 girl, and a youngest boy. 9 because theres so many damn stories that theres no way its just three kids)
Mav also conviently forgets to mention that he didnt actually raise any of them but Bradley, leading to further confusion.
There isnt even any indication that he didnt raise them, because with the stories he tells, you can apply pretty much any age between 8-35 to them and it would still make decent sense.
This all comes to head in one of 2 ways
first one is a random officer or something noticing the picture of the whole squad on Mavs desk.
officer: Oh, what’s that, sir?
mav, absolutely beaming: oh! those are my kids!
officer: oh, thats so sweet! which ones are yours?
mav: all of them!!
officer: *shocked pikachu*
Or, alternatively, the scuttlebutt makes its way back to one of the daggers
another random officer: Oh hey, Fanboy, you’ve worked with Maverick, right?
Fanboy: yeah, why?
officer: do you know how many kids he has? we’re debating it
Fanboy: uh… none, i guess? i mean maybe 1 but Rooster isnt technically his kid
summary: Y/n is a journalist writing about the skills and accomplishments of the Navy’s most elite dagger squad when their plane crash lands in the middle of nowhere. Now it's up to the survivors to last long enough for rescue to show up...
warnings: plane crash, survival, death, anxiety, panic, etc.
word count: 11.2K
top gun masterlist
-
“Flight DL208 to Washington Reagan is delayed to 1:15PM.”
“Son of a bitch.” Hangman sighs jumping up from his slouched position to scan the windows in front of them. The overhead announcement sets off a chorus of groans in the surrounding area.
“No patience for the hot shot pilot?” You raise a brow, watching the blonde pace in front of her.
“Not really in the nature, is it honey?”
You wanna gag at the word honey. You knew ego would be a factor when you were assigned to write about this team. The Dagger Squad was being honored in a private ceremony being held in DC and you would cover it for the Washington Post. This included flying out to Miramar to see where and how they operate. It’s safe to say you’ve gotten comfortable with the team. It's in your nature to bond quickly with groups while researching a story.
You scoff and turn your attention to Bradley in the seat next to you, “So, what medal did you guys get for dealing with this guy?”
He lets out a loud laugh before running a hand over his facial hair. Already dissing on Hangman? You’re fitting in well.
“We literally could’ve flown there and back ourselves by now.” Hangman groans.
Payback reaches out his leg a little further trying to trip him as he paces, their boots colliding.
“Yeah, they don’t let us take multimillion dollar jets across the country just for fun Hangman.” Phoenix rolls her eyes.
A couple days ago.
“Alright, listen up. This is Y/n Y/Ln. She will be writing a piece on us and our skills and accomplishments.” Maverick introduces.
You smile looking over the group of pilots in front of you. You just landed in southern California and immediately found yourself on base diving right in.
“She’s here to observe and ask questions today and tomorrow and then on Friday you will escort her to DC on the flight to your honors ceremony at 0900.”
“So, you here to write about our heroics or our personalities?” A blonde man asks with a proud smirk plastered to his face. You don’t falter, your face remaining calm and striking.
“Neither.” You reply, “I’m here to write about accountability.... and skill if it's warranted.”
“I like her.” Phoenix mumbles to Rooster who is sat to her left. He simply nods, his eyes not leaving you up at the front of the room.
“Bradley Bradshaw can show you around.” Maverick walks right up to his godson and claps his shoulder. “The rest of you, get out on the tarmac and ready to put on a show for our guest.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Hangman smirks.
You eagerly follow Bradley as he leads away from the group. He’s showing you some of the classrooms where most of them got their start. Your eyes wide and curious as you take everything in. He does a good job of asking you a lot of questions in return to your own. His all being personal and watching you squirm a little. Anything to get you to falter a step or a gap in the pen in your hand that glides with a practiced ease while you take notes. It's not an easy feat to trip you up. He's trying some of his best moves.
“I bet by the end of your story, you’ll go out with me.” Bradley’s smirk is tucked right under his thick stache.
“You don’t want to take that bet, Lieutenant.” You pull your gaze from him to the window in front of you both. Planes in perfectly neat rows in front of you.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I don’t date subjects.”
“Subjects?” He raises a brow.
“Unfortunately, you’re a part of the story, Rooster.”
“I’m glad you find it unfortunate.” His eyes dart back to yours.
“That’s not what-”
“This is another classroom!” He loudly cuts you off with a knowing smile, yet another classroom. He eventually ran out of places he could bring you to extend your time together. He was willing to do a lot to keep you smiling. He did bring you back down to the hanger and then to an observation deck to watch them perform maneuvers.
Bradley watches you take extensive notes and you ask a lot of questions that he’s proud to answer. You keep him on his toes with thorough questions. He has to actively watch his teammates just to anticipate what you could possibly question about it.
You hear Maverick call for everyone to land and bring it in for the day as the sun is beginning to drop towards the horizon. You and Bradley rejoin the group and you ask a couple more questions to them before Maverick officially dismisses them.
You sought out Phoenix before she could get far to ask her about being a female pilot in a male dominated field. Bradley can see Phoenix’s eyes dart to him over your shoulder back and forth.
“You should come to the Hard Deck tonight! That’s the real best way to see a Navy pilot in their element.” Phoenix encourages.
Bradley has never loved his best friend more. She knows him too well.
“Is that so?” You smile, looking over the group of people hanging around and the various nods and voices agreeing. “I’ll consider it, thanks you guys.”
Bradley watches you go, slightly shaking his head. Man, he hopes you show. He’s taking that bet.
-
Later that night Bradley was ashamed to say how many times he caught his eyes straying for the door. Although, it was not disappointing for nothing.
You managed to make it pretty far into the bar before he caught sight of you. You already have a beer in hand and you study the wall of pictures in front of you. It’s a busy night, people are playing pool and darts, dancing to the music that blares loudly, but there you are making your way around the room.
“So, you may have actually come for the research.” Bradley’s voice booms from behind you.
You glance over your shoulder to see his frame closely behind yours.
“Why else would I be here?”
“Because I’m here.”
“Cocky.”
“Pilot. Remember?”
You turn around, still in the short distance shared between the two of you.
“Journalist. Remember?”
He nods with a simple ‘mhm’, warm breath fanning over your face.
“It’s a cool place.” You comment, nodding back to some of the older pictures on the wall from the pilots over the decades.
“Wanna see something really cool?” He asks, reaching out a hand to guide you away. You raise a skeptical brow but place your smaller hand in his.
He led you around to the other side of the bar and points to a small picture with a weathered brown frame.
“That’s Maverick.” He drops your hand to point to the dark haired pilot. You hold your beer close to your chest to lean in closer.
“...and to the left of him… is my dad.”
Your gaze turns back to Bradley rather than the picture.
“Your dad was a pilot too?” You ask, turning back to the picture to see a similar stache to the one over your shoulder.
“He was. He was in Top Gun and flew with Maverick actually. He actually passed away a few weeks after this picture was taken.”
He can see the concern flash across your face, doing the mental math on when this is from and how old he is.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I'm alright." He simply sighs, "Wanna head over to the group?”
His sudden change of subject doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You nod and tell him to lead the way and let him guide you to where they have taken over a pool table and the surrounding booths.
“There she is!”
You raise your beer to the group and dive into conversation with them. They talk about ceremony, and the high ranking officials who will be attending. They explain that this isn't the full team either, some of them are currently on missions.
Fanboy leans forward in his seat, “So, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve covered?”
You dive into a story you covered a couple years back over in Italy. They in turn exchange stories and how they got to this point. You have no notebook and fast pen dancing across it. You’re solely among them, clinking beers with everyone.
“You’re not just here for research.” Bradley comments, his voice far too quiet for anyone else in that bar to hear but you.
“Some things deserve a witness.”
Laughter continues with the group. The music swells and gets louder as it gets later. More drinks are poured. Eventually the last round is poured and everyone filters out with the sharp reminder of being on base at 0900. You have some interviews with them for the article, they’ll fly a few more maneuvers. Then they get to leave early and pack for the trip to DC.
The interviews are memorable to say the least. Some were painful to sit through, like having to ask Hangman about his performance. Some of it was productive, like asking Bob about team dynamics and getting a unique point of view. And talking to Bradley was charming, and he totally knew it.
Maverick made them all get up in the sky and called out different things on a radio from the ground with you. He did what Bradley had done for you the day previous explaining things as they were happening, only now you get to see him show off. Bradley didn't have to be told twice. He was eager to show off.
Eventually Mav calls them in and they land one by one and circle up.
“What are the odds someone can actually take me up in the sky?” You boldly ask the group, deciding to press your luck as you look around the group. You squint looking up at the sky as a pilot darts by overhead.
“I mean,” Phoenix looks around the group, “I can. You can ride backseat in Bob’s spot. Let me just get it cleared with Mav.”
She takes off for the other side of the airstrip to where Maverick is standing with a couple other captains. They talk back and forth before nodding, she quickly returns to the group.
“You’re totally regretting your choices right now?” Phoenix grins addressing Bradley, smacking his chest with the back of her hand, “Wishing your plane had a second seat?”
Bradley drops his head to the ground and Phoenix pulls you along to her plane and shows you the ladder and how to climb up. Someone passed you a headset once you were sat and buckled in. It was tight, it’s hard to imagine some of the bigger bulkier guys being sat in here. The engine is loud as it warms up, vibrating your entire seat.
“Ready?” She asks.
“Ready.”
She takes off, gliding through the air with a practiced perfection. There's a lightness in the quick turns while she flies through the air. You feel butterflies in your stomach at some maneuvers, causing you to laugh in surprise.
“That’s a pretty laugh on the airwaves.” Bradley calls, the first person to say anything on the radio since take off.
You can’t help the laugh that falls out while Phoenix groans in front of you.
“Is that pretty laugh going to be at the Hard Deck again tonight?”
Apparently he doesn’t think Phoenix has had enough.
“Considering it.” You simply reply.
You returned to the Hard Deck that night. Strictly for research purposes…
Present day.
“We could’ve slept in!” Payback groans, “We closed the Hard Deck down last night.”
“Again.” Fanboy adds.
He’s not wrong. The drinks kept flowing until Penny hollered out a last call.
“I need a coffee.” You sit up from your own seat and look around the gate, “Wanna go hunt some down with me?”
Bradley’s eyes meet yours and a soft smile appears on his face. He gets up with you and follows as you head out of that wing of the terminal.
“Hangman is truly insufferable.”
Bradley simply chuckles to himself as you guys leave the gate you had spent the last few hours in. Delay after delay after delay.
“To be fair, it’s not very often that we have to fly commercial.” He explains, “Normally we are flying ourselves, or on a ship.”
“Ahh.” You grin, “You guys aren’t used to being treated like a regular old citizen? Even when you’re being flown out for a ceremony to honor your skills?”
“Alright, alright.”
He rolls his eyes as you guys wordlessly get in line at a coffee shop.
“No seriously!” You continue to tease, enjoying the fact that his cheeks are beginning to dust pink, “I was flown out to write about you guys! You’ve gotta feel pretty special. I’m a highly renowned writer.”
“Oh, I know, trust me I’m feeling special.” He grins, refusing to look down from the menu up on the wall as the pink brightens.
You step up and order your drink, pulling out your wallet. Bradley quickly calls out “and a large black coffee.” and taps his card before you can blink.
“Hey!” You look up and he’s finally looking back at you proudly, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
You both wait patiently for your drinks to be called out before returning to the rest of the group. It looks like some of them have left to get food as well.
“There’s finally a plane here.” Bob nods to the large window in front of them.
That was something they had all been waiting on all this time. A plane hadn’t even arrived for them to board.
“Finally!” Hangman pleads.
Shortly after that, they get called to board. It took some not so quiet whispered bartering from Rooster and Coyote for the seat next to yours on the flight. You shook your head, not turning but fully hearing every word being exchanged four feet away from you.
Military gets to board first, so they are already all situated when you board the plane. The squad takes up the first few rows before the rest of the passengers take over the back. Your seat is the window next to Bradley.
“Wow! What a surprise?” You joke as you sit down.
“What a coincidence?” He plays along, grinning as you shake your head.
It’s a small plane. Only two seats on either side of the aisle stretching back maybe ten rows.
“Is this thing historic? Is that what we were waiting for all this time?” Hangman calls out loudly for them all to hear in their section, “We were waiting for someone to break it out of a museum?”
“Don’t start.” Phoenix calls from her seat next to Bob, not even picking up her head in his direction.
They took off under low, bruised clouds that looked heavier than they typically do in California. It looks dark for being midday. The plane climbs unevenly, turbulence jostling them every once and a while causing people behind them to shout. You guys fly for a while, but it never settles. It worsens as you climb through the air.
At one point you grab the arm rest between you and Bradley. He notices.
“You okay?” He asks.
“I don’t mind flying, but this is a little much for me.” You clear your throat and pull the shade down over the window. There’s no longer any urge to see the rain streaming past the window and the sporadic lightning.
The turbulence worsened.
“That’s fair.” He moves his hand over yours. Warm. Just like it was at the Hard Deck
Not the usual bumps anymore. Something erratic, like the air couldn’t decide what it wanted to do. The plan lurches hard to the left, more people in rows further back gasp.
Hangman leans into the aisle, “That does not feel standard.”
The lights flickered.
The engine sound changed.
Bradley’s head immediately snapped up, growing real concern for the first time the entire flight. The entire squad felt it instantly. The wrongness that didn’t belong in the air. This time, out of their control.
The plane dipped sharply.
“Ladies and gentlemen-” The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom, strained, “we’re experiencing-”
The intercom cuts out and the nose drops suddenly. Your breath hitches without control. Bradley immediately tightens his grip on your hand.
“Hey. Look at me.”
You do.
“Breathe,” he voice calm and confident, “In through your nose. Out slow. Focus on breathing.”
Another violent drop. Oxygen masks deployed. Complete chaos erupts.
Bradley unclips his belt, “Stay buckled.”
“Bradley?” Your eyes widen.
“I know.” He carefully walks to the front of the plane.
He never made it past the third row. The plane drops like it had been dumped by the sky itself. There was no graceful descent. No controlled glide. No chance. Just impact. Metal screamed and the world went white.
-
Everything was silent. As you’re coming to, it was quiet in the worst way. Dark smoke is curling through the cabin, making it hard to see anything. Your head throbbed, but you’re upright still buckled in your seat.
“Phoenix?” Bradley’s voice calls, strained.
“Y/n?” He calls next.
“I’m here.” You yell back. You attempt to get up through the wreckage. He was a few rows ahead, you look the other way and your heart stalls. The entire back half of the plane is gone. The row just behind you is ripped and warped, beyond that is nothing. Not a single soul behind you.
One by one, the remaining seats surrounding you, the Dagger squad calls out.
Phoenix. Hangman. Bob. Fanboy. Payback.
Alive.
Coyote groans loudly in pain.
“My leg.” He hisses.
Bradley moves to him in an instant, assessing the damage. Aware of the fact that he is sitting in what should technically be his seat.
“Don’t move.”
You look around the cabin, scanning for anything. The cockpit is gone too, everything looks crushed beyond recognition. Reality settling in heavy and brutal.
They were the only ones.
“Oh my god.” You gasp, suddenly short of breath at the thought.
“I need to get out of here.” You struggle, bending and crouching through warped metal to get off the back of the plane.
“She’s right.” Phoenix sighs, “We need to get out.”
They all slowly make their way out of the plane. The sky is dark blue now, sandstone foothills, scattered pines, and a long stretch of desert. They aren’t in the wilderness, but there’s nothing around for miles. Nothing in view, but miles of windy desert that have to belong to Arizona or New Mexico, wherever they crash landed.
You spin around, watching everyone jump out. Bradley and Hangman help Coyote out without putting weight on his bad leg. You spin around to the other side to see if there’s anything on that side. Nothing. Miles of nothing screeching off through scattered trees and a small ravine.
“You good, Headline?” Bradley sees the absent look on your face.
You perk up at the new nickname, but it doesn’t stop the surprise of the entire situation and the calm reactions from every other person here.
“We just fell out of the fucking sky.” The words spill from your mouth as your vision follows the trail of smoke leading thousands of feet up in the air. Way up from where you guys fell. Surely on the other side of the mountains is the other piece of the plane.
“What? Was that your first time?” Hangman rolls his eyes when he asks, looking around the wreckage that surrounds them.
“We just fell out on the fucking sky.” You repeat.
Bradley can see the shock taking over your face as you look around. He immediately takes your face in his hands and focuses your gaze on him.
“I think she’s in shock.” Bradley says to the group over his shoulder. He quickly turns his full attention back to you.
“Hey, just breathe.” He repeats softly, “You’re okay. We’re okay.”
He repeats it over and over until the shaking stops. You didn’t even realize it was coming from you until you feel the muscles in your back relax. You let your hands relax from the permanent curl they were holding.
“I’m good.” You sigh calmly, nodding and letting out a big sigh.
“Don’t go crazy on me, kid.” He smirks, wiping a drop of blood from your hairline with a quick motion, “We’ve got a bet, remember?”
You feel yourself smile, briefly forgetting the current circumstances.
“The middle of nowhere.” Bob comments as he scans the horizon, “I would guess New Mexico. The Southwest corridor at the very least based on time from take off and rate of speed.”
Hangman kicks at a small metal fragment on fire on the ground, “Well, silver lining we’re not frozen or bleeding out.”
“How’s he doing?” You ask, nodding to where Coyote is sitting on a rock. His leg is carefully propped up and it would seem someone’s wrapped it.
“Compound fracture.” Phoenix answers, “He’ll be okay. He’s just gonna be immobile, which he’ll love.”
“Yeah.” He groans, leaning back on his elbows, “I’m loving it already.”
“You are all remarkably well adjusted considering what just happened.” You clear your throat before walking down toward the ravine. At the very least you guys will need to find water regardless of how long you end up stuck.
“Rescue is coming. They’ll find us.”
You hear Bradley reassure everyone as you walk away.
“Especially once they find out who was on that flight.”
The weight of that settled in.
The Dagger Squad.
A civilian journalist.
A commercial aircraft with zero survivors besides them.
No one is missing this. Right?
You get the arm of your sweatshirt wet for Coyote. It’s not too hot out, but he was sweating under his condition. Sadly, it doesn’t look like they can drink from this ravine. Desert runoff often passes through mineral-rich rock, making the water brackish or bitter and unsafe to drink.
“How’re you doing?” Bradley asks, making you jump. You hadn’t heard him approach.
“Good. Maybe a minor concussion.” You admit, “But nothing crazy. Still thinking straight.”
“Great.” He smiles, “That’s all I need from you.”
You give him a faint, humorless smile, “You set a high bar, Bradshaw.”
He lets out a soft laugh. He holds out a hold to help you step out of the shallow water. You take it and bend down to wet your sweatshirt one more time.
“For Coyote.” You explain, “He probably has a fever.”
“You’ve done this before.” Bradley comments.
“I’ve covered a lot of disasters,” You reply, “I’ve tried to stay useful when I’m working.”
You both walk back up the short hill to where everyone is huddled. You pass the sweatshirt to Coyote and help him wrap it around his head and get settled. Hangman has pulled some of the cushions out of the plane for him. The fire has completely stopped, shy of some smoldering pieces of wreckage.
No helicopters.
No distant engines.
No lights.
Just wind.
You wrap your arms around yourself, the total darkness of the night bringing a chill to the temperature. Bradley drops his shoulder to yours, shifting closer. You lean in.
“This wasn’t supposed to be the story.”
“Story of the lifetime, huh?”
“That’s so not funny.”
“Shouldn’t there be some kind of beacon?” You ask, afraid to point out the obvious. Everyone else behaving so calmly and rationally isn’t helping you adjust.
“There should be.” Bob answers, “but considering the state of the cabin I’m not sure it’s functioning.”
More silence. More wind.
“So, no one’s coming.” You state.
Bradley stared out into the dark. You all sat with the silence for a while before Bradley suddenly stands.
“Okay,” His voice steady and confident, “We’re not moving tonight. Too many injuries, zero visibility, terrain we don’t know.”
No one argued.
They worked in the moonlight.
Seat cushions were stacked as a border along one side of the plane. You guys used emergency blankets overhead strung up with torn belts and wiring to block the wind and trap the heat in. You stay busy handing off materials and holding things down.
“Just a journalist, huh?” Hangman questions.
“I adapt quickly.” You reply, holding a flashlight for Phoenix so she can see what she’s doing. She’s trying to adjust Coyote’s splint
“I am so sorry, man.” Bradley sighs honestly.
“Nah man, you had no idea our plane was gonna crash land.” He hisses in pain, “You wanted to sit next to your girl, I can’t blame you.”
You look up at Bradley.
“Uh-huh.” He rolls his eyes and walks away from you guys.
You guys finish a temporary set up that will get you guys through the night. The guys come back and help carry Coyote in and lay him down in a designated spot where he can elevate his leg. You have the brilliant idea to check the front first class bins for blankets and find enough for everyone.
Everyone settles in as the wind picks up. Hangman found a flare, which he lit just outside of their makeshift tent so if anyone looks for them in the night they have a chance of being discovered.
They all sat close. Not for comfort, but for heat.
“At first light, we take inventory. Water. Food. Injuries. We mark higher ground if visibility improves. We won’t split up.”
“And if rescue doesn’t find us?” Fanboy asks quietly.
Bradley doesn’t hesitate, “Then we make ourselves easier to find.”
You watch him closely while he speaks. His tone never changes and everyone hangs on his every word. They lean in to him, without even realizing it.
In the light exploration seeing what they could find in the dark, they also find cans of soda, bottles of water, and protein bars. Everyone took light sips, concerned with saving what little we have.
You tuck your arms under each other to warm up once you finish eating your bar. You pull the blanket on your lap up a little higher to your shoulders. Bradley drops his shoulder down towards you, heat pouring off of him.
You don’t dare pull away.
“Hey,” Phoenix picks at the emergency blanket on the ground underneath her, “We’re alive. I know that’s hard to accept, but we’re alive.”
“Statistically, that is good for us that we’ve made it this long already.” Bob takes off his glasses, wiping at his eyes.
The wind howled harder, rattling their fragile shelter. It was still holding.
“We can rest in shifts. I can take the first shift and keep an eye on everyone.” Bradley announces.
“I can take the second shift.” Payback nods.
“I’ll be third.” Hangman jumps in.
Everyone settles into a sudden silence. Some quick to fall into exhaustion, deep breaths taking over.
“You should actually sleep when your shift is done.” You advise, you scoot to get more comfortable and try to sleep.
“And who's to say I wasn’t going to?” He looks down at you, low at his side.
You smirk, “Something tells me you would find a reason to stay up with everyone. You’ll need rest for whatever we have to accomplish tomorrow.”
“You’re right.” He admits.
“Wake me if you need anything.” You murmur, sleep catching up with you.
He mumbles a soft ‘okay’ back to you and watches you fall asleep. Your breathing turns steady now. He has a long night ahead of him, and he’s still trying to process what’s really happened to them.
-
Morning came with a haunting silence. Never in your life had waking up to peaceful silence seemed like such a bad thing. Today it feels unsettling. Some of the group was still asleep, and some were already out of the shelter, Bradley being one of them.
The morning was just starting, a bright orange light glowing and bringing an early heat. You quietly crawl out to get up for the day.
The wreckage looked much worse in the daylight.
“Morning.” Bradley’s voice calls.
The ground bore scars of their impact. Burned earth, torn with twisted metal scattering showing their path. Bradley is watching as you scan the area he’s already been mentally mapping.
“Still no sign of anything?”
He sadly shakes his head, “Not even birds.”
The words worry him more now that he’s actually said them out loud.
Everyone gathers together once the sun was fully up. Coyote back on his rock, propped to see everyone. His face looking a little pale, but alert to everything and everyone.
Bob finishes taking inventory, “Water for maybe two days if we're careful. Food will last us the day.”
“And that’s if no one gets any worse.” Hangman adds.
His eyes stretch over the land in front of them, the deep valley to one side that they couldn’t see last night in the dark. It’s not easy land to navigate. “We could be anywhere out here.”
“That’s a problem.” Payback said, “Thousands of miles that look exactly like this.”
“Deserts lie.” You chime in, “We need to keep that in mind. It plays tricks on your vision and distance doesn’t look like it’s actual distance.”
“She’s right.” Phoenix agrees.
Bradley nods, “Which means walking blindly could have us killed faster than staying put.”
Silence falls over the group.
“So we build up our camp here.” Fanboy announces, “Make this home base.”
“And wait while our water runs out and we slowly die.” Hangman adds with heavy sarcasm.
Bradley simply holds up a hand for him to stop, “We can still assess the area. The beacon would’ve died here or close by with impact on the plane.”
“Those who stay will work on the shelter. Make signals.” Bradley nods, liking the teamwork and plan they’re establishing.
“Alright!” Phoenix claps, “Who was a boy scout and can get a fire going?”
Hangman, Fanboy, and Payback take off in the limited woods looking for firewood and dry things to burn. The sun is already warming up the air drastically, it’s hard to believe it was a cold night. The beauty of the desert.
“We’ll start earlier tomorrow, but we can do a short exploration today.” Bradley declares, “Two teams. Sixty minutes out and straight back. One heading north and the other heading south.”
Hangman, Phoenix, and Bob would stay behind to keep on eye on Coyote, make signals, and work on stripping things from the plane that they can.
Two teams.
Payback and Fanboy. Me and Bradley.
No one hesitates now that it’s been decided.
“We’ll head north,” Payback said, “There’s high ground that way. If there’s anything, a road, or structure, we’ll be able to see it.”
Bradley nods, “Mark your trail. Make sure you’re confident in getting back. A simple three stone is effective.”
Fanboy gives him a tight smile, “Copy that.”
Hangman crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes obviously scanning over you.
“You sure you wanna take the civilian?”
You don’t react, but Bradley does.
“She’s with me.” His voice flat and final.
Phoenix steps up smoothly between them, “Hangman, you’re on shelter duty. Try not to insult the wind.”
She pushes him away from the group and follows him with a sassy quip to match each of his.
“We’ll keep the fire going.” Bob nods, “Smoke will help with visibility.”
Coyote swallows and you get him another bottle of water from inside the plane before leaving. You and Bradley would be sharing one to conserve as much as possible for your journey.
“Be careful.” Coyote calls.
“We’ll be back.”
-
The desert swallowed all sound quickly. You walked in silence, just the sound of your shoes at first. The heat was still plainly rising, droplets of sweat forming at the base of your neck.
You eventually break the silence, “You don’t hesitate.”
“About?” He glances at you.
“Decisions.” You carefully watch your step, “Leading. Even when you’re uncertain, you move and they follow.”
“That’s flying.” He replies, “Indecision and hesitation gets people killed. It’s actually the mission that got us this recognition where I finally stopped hesitating.”
Bradley shows you the three stone method. Leaving a trio of stones every fifty yards to guide yourself back just in case.
Bradley keeps a close eye on his watch and calls out a five minute warning before you have to turn around. It's been a lot of nothing. A lot of dust and rocks. And then more dust and rocks..
“Is that-?” You hesitate to even finish your question as you look out on the horizon, finally seeing something worth getting your hopes up.
“I think so.” You both pick up your steps.
The water was mostly still, flat on the beds of rocks, but slowly moving across as a trickling across the levels of rocks.
“We’ve got ourselves a spring.” He sighs with relief.
You crouch down next to him, “Freshwater?”
He kisses the rock in front of you, “It needs to be boiled, but yeah.”
You look up at him with an exhausted expression, but bright eyes. Relieved at the small piece of hope you’ve just been given.
“So, we aren’t going to die of thirst.”
“Not today.”
“Comforting.” You jeer, “I would say we’ve officially been upgraded from stranded to resilient.”
Bradley smiles. A real smile. For the first time since they boarded the plane for sure.
They mark a clear trail to get back the next day with the plans to bring bottles. They head back to the shelter to meet up with the rest of the group.
“You know, under other circumstances this would be a pretty good meet cute.” You admit. You don't know why you choose to break the silence and bring up the bet you had been adamantly against a couple days ago.
“A plane crash together?” He laughs, but asks for clarification.
“Do you always flirt when your life is on the line?”
“No, not at all. That’s why should be concerning.” You laugh.
Finally the camp is within view again. The fire is still going strong, you can see people pacing.
“We found water.” Bradley exclaims. Cheers of relief pass around the group as Bradley explains the plan to return tomorrow with bottles and a full day of daylight. You can feel a slight weight release off of everyone’s shoulders at this revelation.
Fanboy and Payback came back quieter than you guys had, and you clocked it immediately. Not a good sign. Heavy brows and nothing raised in triumph.
“Talk to me.” Bradley turns his attention to them, “What did you guys see?”
Payback simply shakes his head, “Got elevation. We got good sightlines.”
“Saw everything.” Fanboy added, his tone just as grim.
“And?” Phoenix asks.
“There’s nothing.” Payback says simply, his tone level. “Miles and miles of nothing. No roads. No buildings. No power lines. Just… desert.”
That truth silences us all.
Hangman exhales loudly through his nose and looks away, “So, we’re not walking out of this?”
“No.” Bradley said calmly with a sigh, “We’re not.”
You watch the group absorb it. No panic. No arguing.
“Then we need to stop treating this like a campsite.”
Bob calls your name, causing you to turn in his direction, he had been sorting things recovered from the plane that they could use.
“Look what I found.” Bob proudly holds out your brown leatherbound notebook. You’re sure it was tucked into the pocket on the seat in front of you. It had crossed your mind today, but wasn’t really a priority to find after crashing into the earth.
“My baby!” You cheer, taking it from his hand and holding it close to your chest, “Well, now if we die out here, they’ll eventually know our story.”
“How comforting.” Hangman shakes his head, swatting at a fly hovering by his face.
“I’m leaving you out of it.”
Bob snorts a laugh.
-
You guys got to work ripping down more insulation and overhead paneling to extend the current space giving them more room. Leaf fronds from some of the nearby trees are weaved together to trap in heat at night and lessen the wind.
Bob steps back, impressed despite himself, “This is … actually pretty solid.”
Hangman looks up from his kneeled position, “I hate that I’m proud of us.”
Coyote grins looking around. He is propped up on a much more secure and comfortable makeshift cot now. He by far has the most seat cushions to his name, but no one is complaining.
“Home sweet home.” He sighs.
They discussed a plan for the next day for setting up a water station and filling their empty bottles to bring back. Bob found a small coffee pot designed for making coffee for passengers, but it’ll work perfectly for boiling their water.
“Oh no.” Phoenix says immediately, “What did you find?”
“How bad is this idea?” Hangman holds up a bucket of liquor shooters for the drinks on the plane.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the first class amenities.” He holds them all out to you as an offer.
“I don’t know, but it seems fair for Coyote to have right now. Pain management.” You nod back towards him. If anyone had the first dibs, it’s safe to say it would be him.
“I like her.” Coyote smiles.
“You raided the drink cart?” Fanboy questions.
“If we’re going to be stuck in the desert, I refuse to do it sober.”
Bradley rubs at his face, “We have no food. This is gonna hit fast.”
You hesitate, Hangman making his way back around still holding the basket. You grab one and twist the cap off without fear.
“To not dying.” You hold your shot out first, extending it to the center of the group.
“Low bar.” Hangman nods, “Nice.”
They drank. The bucket gets passed around until it's empty. Within minutes, the world softened. Bellies warm. Shoulders loose.
Fanboy laughed first, “Oh, yeah. That’s the stuff.”
Hangman leans back, his arms folded behind his head.
“You know what I miss?”
“Having new people to flex for?” Phoenix asks.
“No.” He rolls his eyes, “Good music.”
Bob smiles faintly, “I miss food.”
You feel the warmth still spreading through your chest. Your head is lighter than expected, but considering the lack of food it makes sense. You lean back against your cushion and exhale.
“This is probably irresponsible and dehydrating us more.”
Bradley glances at you, “You regret it?”
Your eyes meet his, honest. “No.”
He smiled.
Coyote took another sip and winced, but after his face looked the most relaxed it has been in the last twenty-four hours.
“If we survive this, I am never complaining about a flight delay ever again.” Coyote sighs.
“If we survive this, I am only flying myself wherever I go. I don’t trust anyone else.” Hangman scoffs.
You tilt your head, “If we survive this, I am writing without a doubt the most unhinged story that will likely make my entire career. I may even get a promotion.”
“Really?” Phoenix asks.
“If we survive.” You remind.
Your brown little notebook is tucked under the cushion that acts as your pillow. You feel better having it close by and getting to jot things down again. You sketch out the shelter and route to water on a rough map.
“You okay?” Bradley asks, he doesn’t hide that he watches you sketch away.
You nod, “Buzzed. Hungry.”
“Same.” He agrees.
You aren’t saved.
You haven’t been rescued.
You weren’t even sure how long you could last.
But for a brief stretch of the night, with the fire still creating a warm glow, they were together. Somehow that made it a little easier.
-
The morning arrived with slight headaches. Drinking on an empty stomach had consequences no matter how small. Bradley was already awake, he stood just outside the shelter with his hands on his hips.
He turned as you emerge, rubbing at your temples.
“Morning.”
“You look surprisingly functional.” You blink at him.
“It takes a lot more than that to bring me down.”
They regrouped outside when everyone was vertical. Hungry. Focused. Desperate.
“Okay. The priorities are food and water. Thankfully, we now know where water is, we just need to bottle it and bring it back here to boil and cool. We also need food.”
“Desert food exists. It’s just not as obvious.” You inform.
Everyone turns to you.
“Seeds. Insects. Small animals. Birds if we’re lucky.”
“Bugs.” Hangman groans, pacing a few steps away from the group.
“We need protein.” Bradley agrees. “We can also use the nylon threading in the cabin to tie snares.”
“I know how to do that.” Payback said, “Field training.”
“Good.” Bradley claps, “You’ll lead. Y/n and I will go back to the water and load up as much as we can carry with the empty bottles we can fill.”
You empty out a stranger's backpack and try not to think too much about whose it is and how they’re likely dead now. You take note of everything inside it before putting bottles in.
The sun was high in the air by the time you made it back to the spring again. Midday heat pressed down on you, the air was thick.
“Alright, we filled all of them. We can head back and start boiling them.” Bradley starts loading the big bottles into his bag.
You crouch near the edge, staring at the bottom pool. Shallow on the lowest rock that doesn’t filter back up.
“We’re disgusting.”
He huffs a laugh, “You’re just now realizing that?” He wipes a bead of sweat from his brow, but dares to look at you.
“This bottom pool is downstream from where we collect.” You gesture in front of you.
“Yes.” His voice full of caution.
“And it’s hot enough out that our clothes would dry off before we have to walk back.”
His eyes narrow on you, “Where are you going with this?”
You stand suddenly, “I would kill for a bath. Quickly. In the least glamourous way possible. Right here.”
He gives you a wild look and gestures for you to go ahead. You reach for the bottom hem of your shirt and hesitate before pulling it up. Bradley suddenly turns to give you some privacy. You toss your clothes into a pile and slide into the pool of water.
“Oh my god.” You sigh, relief from the cool water and the feeling of it soaking through your hair.
You dunk under, wiping at your face a few times. When you resurface, Bradley is turned back to you,
“I think you’re going to regret missing out on this.” You smile, letting yourself float on your back for a minute. It feels amazing.
He debates. Clear temptation written all over his face.
Hell. He could be dead tomorrow.
He pulls his shirt off over his head rapidly and slides down his pants leaving him in his boxers. He quickly jumps in the water causing you to shriek. It’s not very deep so you flinch at the leap.
“Oh my god.” You scream as he resurfaces.
You wipe the water from your eyes but can’t hide the smile growing wider. He lets out a sudden cheer and shakes his head side to side sending water flying from his curls.
“This is what you wanted.” He teases seeing you close your eyes and look away.
“I don’t know about that.” You mutter, your chin on the edge of the water level. He swims closer to you.
You run your hands through your hair a few times. Bradley watches it glide through the water. The sun is directly on you guys, it makes the water sparkle.
“I’ll admit it.” Bradley’s voice breaks the comfortable silence, “This is actually pretty nice.”
“I told you!” You grin, finally sitting up in the water.
He nods a few times and sends a splash your way before washing his face. You swim back to the edge to grab your clothes and scrub them in the water. It isn’t doing much to actually clean them, but it’s truly better than nothing after multiple days of wearing them.
You lay them out flat to dry and dunk under the water again.
“I’m never taking a shower for granted again after this.” Bradley groans, “Even the shitty ones on base.”
You snort obnoxiously, but you like the fact that he doesn’t bat an eye. You eventually get a chill and decide to warm up in the sun again. You stretch and bask in it, giving your clothes as much time to dry as possible. The desert sun making light work of it.
You and Bradley both get dressed again. His eyes are heavy on you as you both get dressed in such close proximity.
Still stranded.
Still uncertain.
But a little cleaner.
A little lighter.
-
Packs are heavy with water sloshing in them as camp comes into view. Hangman spots them first and walks out to take a couple of the jugs up for them.
“Yeah, I want Hangman to note that the civilian is keeping up just fine.” You remind, throwing a glare over your shoulder. If you had a free hand you would throw him a middle finger too. Hangman holds his hands up in mock defense, but his smirk tells you he knows how far from innocent he is.
You set down the backpack by the fire and Bob quickly begins to unpack it to start boiling rounds of water. There is a collective exhale from everyone when they see water won’t be a concern anymore. This may be daily for them to get, but, for now they have a good stock.
Coyote cranes his neck from his rock, his arm tucked behind his head, “You guys look refreshed.”
You don’t miss a beat, “Don’t worry about it.”
Bradley shoots you a look and tries to hide his smile.
“Food?” Bradley changes the subject.
Payback wipes his hands on his pants, “Mixed results.”
“We found tracks.” Fanboy jumps in, “Rabbits. So we set snares.”
“Also we gathered seeds. Nothing toxic, but not really anything of substance either. But if the snares hit, we could cook tonight.”
“This is good.” Bradley nods. It’s all a step in the right direction.
You fall into a rhythm of boiling water containers and then cooling them and bottling them. Later as the sun was dipping lower, Payback jogged back into camp.
“Snares hit.” He announces, “One.”
It wasn’t much, but it was one rabbit.
Hangman let out a laugh that was half crazy. “We’re eating!”
He was proud to use a pocket knife to skin and filet the entire thing. It was alarmingly precise.
“Alright, fire it up carefully.” Phoenix helps them get it set up to cook over the fire.
You sit next to Bradley, watching the water containers lined up proudly. They look like treasure under the circumstances.
“We’re doing this.” You comment quietly, just for the two of you.
“We are.” He reaches out a hand to your knee.
They had water.
They had food. Barely.
They had each other.
-
You woke slowly. Registering the warmth behind you like a memory. Strange. An unmistakable heavy arm around your waist.
Bradley.
At some point in the night you must have shifted, craving heat without knowing the source. You hope he was asleep and didn’t realize either. Your legs are beyond tangled. You can feel his nose pressed against the back of your head.
You could tell that he woke just seconds after you. Taking a deep inhale of your head before you felt his arm tense.
“Well, this is new.” You whisper.
“I was gonna say.” He laughs, his arm relaxing once again, "Although, I’m not complaining.”
You let the silence hang in the air. Letting the moment melt away slowly.
“No, I’m not either.” You admit.
You both let it stretch a little longer until you hear the sound of someone else getting up. You clear your throat immediately.
“We should-”
“Yeah.” He agrees.
You both immediately sit up and get untangled. The early morning air is cold now with the lack of body heat as you both scramble to get out of the shelter and to wipe the smiles from your faces. Phoenix is the first one up, of course she’s the one who saw that.
“You two done pretending you’re not awake?” She asks.
You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering “Damn.”
The camp looked more lived in at this point. Clean water bottled and lined up. Varies forms of stumps and stools that everyone sits on.
“Two more!” Payback proudly holds up two more rabbits.
Hangman immediately takes them so they can prepare them and roast them over the fire.
“The snares are a hit. We need to keep resetting them and maybe setting more and spreading out.” Fanboy advises.
Bob jumps in, “Also none of us got sick from any of the nuts or seeds, so that’s a good sign.”
Bradley claps his hands together once, “Alright. We have water. We have food. New priority.”
“We need to signal for help.” You guess and Bradley proudly nods.
“Large ground markers. SOS visible from the air.”
Phoenix nods to agree, “Fire signals too. Daytime smoke. We keep this fire going constantly.”
Coyote raised his hand from his spot, “I volunteer to supervise and complain.”
“Accepted.” Bradley nods.
-
The signal setup took up the rest of the morning. Long lines of the fuselage dragged out and adjusted to outline the letters SOS. It was stamped into the desert floor like a dare to be discovered. They also evenly dug three new fire pits for emergency smoke stacks to climb high into the air.
“If someone flies over us,” Hangman says, with his hands plastered to his hips as he looks up high into the sky, “they’d have to be blind not to see us.”
“Thats the point.” Phoenix replies.
“This still limits us to the people passing overhead. We haven’t seen or heard another plane pass overhead in days of being out here.” You remind, you turn your attention back to the wreckage. Maybe fifty yards away from the section of plane that you guys were saved by that has become your shelter, is the crumpled cockpit of the plane. Days out here and no one had suggested it. No one had touched it. You know why.
“The radio would be in there.” Phoenix says to you, noting where your attention really went. The group follows as you guys walk over to get a closer look.
“It probably didn’t survive.” Bradley insists.
“There’s no way of knowing that.” Hangman disagrees, “They are literally designed to survive situations like this.”
A long pause passes over the group.
“That still doesn’t change the fact that we are looking at a crumpled ball of scorched and torn metal. We have no way of getting in there, unless your pocket knife also has the jaws of life.” Bradley scans the plane and everyone crosses their arms trying to come up with some brilliant idea.
You look at the side front window of the plane. It’s been warped, and you have no idea how you’ll get up there but the words slip out before you can second guess yourself. “I could fit.”
Hangman’s gaze slid down your frame, entirely lacking subtly. “Yeah, you definitely-”
You spin on him instantly.
“Finish that sentence and I’ll prove I can kick your ass too.”
Hangman blinks and laughs it off, per usual. “Fair enough.”
Bradley was already shaking his head at the idea.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I know,” You declare, “But if your shoulders could fit in that gap, tell me you wouldn’t try?”
His silence tells you you’re right. You don’t have the bulky frame that the Navy makes you achieve. You can do this.
Bradley exhales hard, his jaw locked tight. “If you do this, we do it controlled. Slowly and carefully. You talk the entire time you’re in there.”
“Deal.”
It took some more planning to figure out how to get in at the right angle and high enough to fit. You also had to go in feet first so you would land on your feet, causing Bradley, Hangman, and Payback to lift you up. It took some wriggling, twisting sideways, but your shoes hit the cockpit floor.
Pure silence. Still air. Two people who didn’t survive that flight.
“Y/n?” Bradley calls from outside, the concern clear in his voice.
“I’m-” You swallow, “I’m okay. Just give me a second.”
You turn away from the seats, it’s getting harder to breathe in here. Control panels are destroyed. Gauges smashed. Wires hanging down like veins.
“What do you see?” Bradley asks.
“Look for emergency comms.” Phoenix instructs.
“No, a portable radio!” Hangman shouts.
“Everything’s destroyed.” You call back, looking through the wreckage.
The voices begin to overlap as everyone chimes in with their thoughts of where it could be.
“Y/n, look by the emergency exit signs!”
“Behind the seats!”
“Check the-”
“Enough!” You shout back, “Shut the fuck up!”
The cockpit returns to total silence.
Your hands are shaking now, breaths coming in too fast. This is not the time, you can’t freak out now.
“I can't think, you guys are not in here.” You snap, “I am. I do not need six pilots who are not in here telling me what they are not looking at.”
A beat of silence again.
Bradley’s voice calls back, feeling brave apparently. “You’re right. Take your time.”
You nod to yourself and try to focus. You check through compartments, still trying to avoid the seats at the front of the room. Then, back behind a collapsed panel you can see a small battered emergency radio.
Your breath hitches, “Wait, I think I found it.”
“Talk to me.” Bradley says.
“I can’t reach it.” You strain, reaching your arm as far as possible around the panel to grab it. It’s far too heavy to move off it. Your fingertips barely brush it while you continue to reach.
“Fuck.” You groan, dropping your shoulder more to try and get a fraction more reach. Your finger catches it again, this time knocking it close enough to grab.
“I got it!” You cheer, you hear their relief outside.
“Great, now get outta there baby please.”
No one comments on Bradley’s choice of endearment at this moment. Not even you. They're all mostly too afraid you’ll rip them a new one over it.
You tuck the radio close and climb back up towards the window. You don’t look back to the bodies still in the seats, but you stop and give them a moment of silence. A moment of apology.
They lift you out slowly, carefully. You pass the radio to Bob and he immediately gets to work on it. The moment your feet touch the ground, your knees buckle. Bradley is quick to put his arms under yours to hold you upright.
“Hey, I’ve got you.”
You nod, eyes burning and your chest growing tight. He pulls you in for a much needed hug.
“You did it,” Bradley reassures, his hands skimming lightly over your back, “You got the radio.”
You let yourself fully rest your head against Bradley’s chest. You give yourself a few seconds to try and calm down.
Hangman lets out a whistle, “Maybe you really can kick our asses.”
You let out a shaky breath that turns into a laugh, “Told ya.”
They followed Bob back to the camp where he got to work seeing if he could get it back up and running. The radio crackled, weak and inconsistent.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday.” Bob’s voice calm, “This is a downed civilian aircraft with survivors. Coordinates unknown-”
Crashing loud static interrupts and cuts him off. No response. No indication if that is actually going through.
“Please.” You sigh, closing your eyes.
More static.
-
The radio becomes the heart of the camp. The entire focus. Bob doesn’t let it leave his hand. Static. Silence. Bob’s clear voice repeats it like a mantra, waiting for a response. Silence. Static. Repeat.
The sun slid lower.
Bob continues like clockwork from just under the shelter. You and Bradley watch the fire while the rest of the group went out to check all the snares.
“This was a bad idea.” Your finger taps against your leg without rhythm.
Bradley looks to you, “It wasn’t.”
You can’t tear your gaze away from the flames in front of you. Mesmerizing.
“Listening to this. Waiting. It’s going to mess with our heads.”
You flinch as Bob starts over yet again.
“What if no one is out there?” You continue, “We just keep talking into the void until we lose it?”
Bradley lowers himself down on the other side of the log you’re occupying, “Hey.”
He straddles it so he can face you directly. You finally look at him.
“You didn’t create the silence. You gave us a voice. This is better than not trying at all. Isn’t it?”
You nod and are quick to break his gaze. Your stomach is still turning from earlier today. Hearing Bob repeat over and over that they are survivors continues to remind her of all the ones who aren’t.
The rest of the group came back with a couple of rabbits in each hand. It would be a filling night finally, they have no way of keeping their food fresh currently. The desert cooled quickly without the sun. They ate, fed the fire, and started rotating the watch. Coyote was finally feeling well enough to, he hopped around camp on one leg today.
You lay in your designated spot, twisting the edge of the blanket in your hand.
“You did a brave thing today.” Bradley’s voice soft, his hands reaches to hers, stopping the twisting, “Even if it doesn’t work out the way we want it to, it still matters.”
You squeeze his hand back.
“You promise we won’t go crazy?”
Even in the dim lighting, you can see a smile grace his face, “I’m afraid that ship sailed for most of us long ago.”
A soft laugh escapes.
-
The wind picks up outside, more than usual. Everyone is asleep, aside from Bob who is on watch at this point in the night. He is still calling on the radio every once and a while, but the amount of static and lack of response has him trying less frequently.
The wind picks up even more, spinning the leaves and dust around in front of him. It’s dark out, but when he looks to the west the sky looks to be a funny color.
“Something's off.” he whispers to himself.
The wind picks up more, sending the sand whipping sideways. He turns to avoid it biting into his skin.
“Hey guys.” He calls out loud enough to wake the group.
The emergency blankets are flapping wildly in the wind, your instinct is to tie them back down. Rain is spitting out now, heavy and fast.
“The spring. That’s where the water comes from.” Bob yells with wide eyes.
“What?” You question, not following his train of thought and relevance in this exact moment.
Everyone is up and trying their best to hold everything down, but it gets to a point that it’s a losing fight. The ground shook. You heard it before you saw it.
A deep rolling roar.
“It’s a flash flood!” Bob announces.
Water surges around everything, knocking down everything in its path. It’s wide and angry, barreling straight for camp.
“Everybody move!” Bradley yells.
You grab your journal from under your pillow. Bob has a death grip on the radio. Hangman steps in and lends a shoulder to Coyote. You slip on the deep rusty mud following Bradley’s quick pace.
The shelter didn’t stand a chance.
It ripped apart in seconds behind them, blankets, cushions, scraps carried away like toys.
You climbed, seeking higher ground. The harsh rocks of the desert pull at the skin on your fingertips. You blindly trust Bradley’s instincts and follow the path he climbs, everyone else close behind. Bradley has to lay down on a ledge and reach down to help pull Coyote up at one point, but you all have found a spot big enough for everyone and high enough to be safe.
Just silence. No words. Just wind. Water rushing below. The desert being reshaped again right before your eyes.
Days. You have been out in the desert for days.
“We can’t keep doing this.” Hangman drags a hand over his face. He’s covered in mud. Everyone is.
Phoenix nods to agree, “We’re all running on fumes.”
“We almost lost everything.” You sigh, watching the water continue to roar by below. It looks to be early morning now, the sky begins to lighten slowly.
“But we didn’t lose everything.” Bob smiles holding up the radio, “We still have this! It still works-”
A sudden screech interrupts him, followed by static again.
“-repeat. Repeat. Do you copy?”
Bob’s hands behind to shake at the strangers voice crackling through. Bradley takes it back from his hand quickly answering, “Copy! Copy! Survivors on the ground, do you read?”
A pause.
“We read you loud and clear.”
It took some back and forth explaining the location and identifiers. Bradley gets him to call in the Navy to get Maverick and the rescue team out to them. After that, it didn’t take long to hear the blades chopping in the distance.
For the first time in days, you let yourself have hope again. You guys actually will be leaving this place.
“You scared the hell outta us!” Maverick steps off before they fully touch down, taking quick steps to his godson.
“I know, I’m okay.” He hugs him back.
You smile at the sweet scene and climb up on the helicopter, taking the furthest seat in. Emergency blankets are passed out and they pull away from the mountain as soon as the door is shut and everyone is on. You twist the edge of the blanket in your hand. The same kind of blankets as what you had from the plane, though this one is new and clean. Bradley places his hand in yours, stopping the movement.
“What’re you thinking about?” he asks.
You pause for a few seconds before replying, “We have a future again. I wasn’t so sure for a second.”
“C’mon now, I had no doubt you would go out with me after all of this.” Bradley teases, twisting your words.
“I’m serious.” You exhale a laugh.
He nods, “No, I know. We cut it a little close, but here we are on the other side. Just gotta keep moving forward.”
Maverick announces that you guys will be going to the closest Navy base hospital. You don’t question why for now, just too happy to be watching the desert floor get smaller and smaller as they leave it behind.
It isn’t a long flight, surely nothing can be that bad after these last few days. The medical team is on each of you as soon as you touch down on base. Everyone is severely dehydrated, causing us to all get IV’s and beds. Being in your own room feels weird now. Too quiet.
“There she is.” Bradley rolls in with his IV bag.
“What are you doing?”
“I think we’re trauma bonded.” He climbs up on the edge of the bed, “I’m having withdrawal symptoms.”
“Well, if that’s the case.” You roll your eyes, scooting over to make room for him.
It isn’t another night under the stars together. The desert is behind them now.
The next morning everyone is cleared to be discharged. Maverick gets everyone in a room collectively to discuss what happened.
“Alright, I am glad to have you all back safe and sound.” He claps his hands together, “and Y/n L/n of course. Thank you for braving it with our crew”
You simply nod and let him continue.
“The reason we brought you all here is because to the public's knowledge there have not been any survivors of the crash. The dagger squad was intentionally targeted in a blackout zone. No comms. No satellite. A foreign military put a hit on you all.”
The weight settles on everyone. It’s one thing to be in a plane crash, but to find out it wasn’t an accident sends chills up your spine.
“Y/n, your parents were informed that you were alive last night after you were rescued.” Maverick nods and you quickly wipe aware the tear that slides over your cheek. You miss them. You're glad that they know the truth to the situation.
“We’re working to eliminate the threat currently. You guys are headed back to Miramar, and then we will discuss your release back to the public.”
You try to swallow back the thought of still being trapped. A military base with hot water is a pretty big step up still.
“Good call with the radio. That’s how we got ya eventually.” Maverick nods, looking proudly over his team.
“That was all Y/n.” You turn in your chair, did Hangman actually just give you credit?
“Well, I should thank you then.” Maverick turns his attention to you, “I was going to say thank you for keeping up with the squad, but maybe they were keeping up with you.”
You smile widely at the compliment.
“A journalist will survive anything for a story.”
“...about that.”
-
“I cannot believe it.” You groan, letting out a bratty huff.
You and Bradley found a bench outside to sit on and get some air after the briefing.
“I have the story of a lifetime.” You sigh, “Targeted attack. Elite pilots. Plane crash. Desert survival.”
“And?”
“I can’t print a single word of it.” You toss your journal down on the bench, “Classified. Confidential. Concern for the public’s safety.”
You echo the words Mav had said to you when he explained you couldn’t write about any of this. The extent of your coverage was limited to their accomplishments and the awards ceremony.
Bradley smiles, “A journalist's nightmare.”
“My personal nightmare.” You correct, “No one is ever going to hear that I was stranded in the desert with the Dagger Squad and I didn’t get a byline.”
He tilts his head in thought, “Didn’t he say you could still write about the award ceremony?”
“You mean the one we never went to?” You laugh, “Yeah. ‘Pilots honored in private event. Reporter did not almost die.’ Riveting.”
He snorts and they sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.
He glances at you sideways, “So.”
“So?” You turn your gaze back on him.
“That bet.” He says lightly, “The one where I said you would go out with me by the end of the story.”
“I remember.”
“And?”
You simply raise your brows.
“Is it the end of the story?”
-
AHHH YOU GUYS! Isn’t this so so cutie?? 😭 I was inspired after a scary ass flight to Seattle a couple weeks ago… literally started thinking about plane crash scenarios, and the only world where that's okay with me is if Bradley Bradshaw is stranded with me😌
PLEASE LMK WHAT YOU THOUGHT IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR!
