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topgunruinedme · 7 months

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Chapter 3: A night in acid wash jeans - Part one

Summary:

After a rough day in training where classes are cut short and some hurtful words are shouted, Jake finds himself avoiding the Hard Deck and seeking out another bar to drink away his sorrows. He forgets that there's a reason they go drinking in pairs.

Series: His Tropical Depressions

Book Summery: So I present you; Cyclone accidentally adopting the Daggers. Dabbles of Cyclone taking care of or protecting his kids.

Read on Ao3

Word count: 3k

He relaxed with a sigh allowing his muscles to uncoil as he tipped his head back on the couch, fingers absently scratching against his jean clad thigh as he took a moment to enjoy the silence of his house. There was no yelling, the air was unusually dormant as it lacked the sound of jets taking off that he had long ago learnt to suppress as background noise. There were no fights he had to handle, no one calling him away from his desk for his attention and there was certainly no Maverick to match to ensure the little gremlin didn't burn down his base. Just pure silence.

He placed his reading glasses on his nose as he grunted, sitting up properly lifting his head from where it was resting as he leaned against the end of the couch placing his cup of steaming tea on the small table next to the arm. His book was patiently waiting where it had been since he got back from the meeting all those months ago, face down with a receipt being used as a bookmark barely peeking out of the pages as it sat waiting to be reopened.

It wasn't often that he got the day off, being a Vice Admiral and an Airboss on top of it the amount of work that was involved in his positions made it rather hard to arrange time off, let alone a holiday. It had gotten worse since Kazansky assigned the Daggers and Maverick as a permanent position on his base, they alone filled his desk with paper let alone the other work he received from Admirals and Lieutenant alike. He had sick days to assign, abscesses to approve, budgets to assign, check to complete, a base to run and somewhere under all of that he had to go home and get a few hours in before he arrived back and base and unfortunately it wasn't always his best case. Guiltily sometimes he crashed on the couch in his office for a few hours before changing into a new uniform stashed away in the Instructors lockerroom pre-pressed and continued the next day on pure caffeine. It was called a compromise, he sacrificed sleep to finish his work in order to keep the base running. He already knew that Sol was taking bits and pieces from his desk when he wasn't looking, not that he hadn't noticed that the small chunk of files had disappeared. He appreciated the man attempting to help him but he also knew that the man had his own family to go home and take care of. He couldn't ask him to stay late and help.

Unfortunately his schedule was impossibly booked out most days, he had meetings scheduled on top of meetings, and most days if he did get home it wasn't until the early hours of the morning.

Which was exactly why he was salvaging today, trying to ignore the dread forming in his stomach stubbornly at the amount of paperwork that will be waiting for him in the office when he returned, or how many meets he would have to rearrange and deadlines he would have to change to accommodate for being one day behind in his work. Instead he tried to enjoy his first day in…well, he wasn't entirely sure. It had been well before the daggers mission, and before that had been that stupid convention up in DC where he had to attend meetings back to back for three days only to listen to Cain crap on about his drones, which had later failed spectacular in front of the entire brass when he tried to demonstrate their use. He had taken joy out of that, it was the highlight of his trip really. But a holiday or well…a day off was well long overdue. He could almost feel his ulcers take a breath and relax slightly.

He didn't expect it really, he got up this morning with the intention to work. He had 12 meetings today and two classrooms to oversee. He had gotten dressed in his uniform and driven all the way to base and managed to get to his office before Solomon had ambushed him. The man had stopped him with a determined look and ordered him off his own base, not listening to any of his excuses about the work he would miss as the man practically dragged him out of the still thankfully empty base as his best friend dropped him off at his car. “The world can survive 24 hours without you Beau, enjoy it” Sol had told him with an amused smile, he wasn't exactly pleased when Sol had leaned over taking the files he had been intending to take home and finish and told him to go home and relax. He wondered how much his friend was wishing he was back on base after filling in for him on one of his more relaxed days, thankfully it wouldn't be too brutal on the man. Hopefully.

There was truly no winning, he knew he was a little bit of a workaholic, his fingers twitched slightly by his side at the thought of the paperwork he had fully intended of finishing was taken from him. It had been so long since he had truly had a day off without doing something work related during it and he wasn't entirely sure what to do. The day was dragging on and he was running out of things to do to distract his mind. So he tried to enjoy it, he had dressed down into a pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt that he would usually wear to bed enjoying the day the light material allowed the sun front he window to peek through the fabric and warm his skin ad he leaned over the arm of the couch and picked up his book fingering the bookmark sliding it out between the pads of his fingers and the cover as his gaze dropped to the beginning of the page and started to read, enjoying the quiet chipping of the birds outside his window where a bird had made a nest on his neighbor's tree a few weeks ago. He let himself relax into the fantasy world of his book as he occasionally shifted the book into his other hand to reach out for his cooling cup of tea sipping at it as he grew absorbed into the printed words on the page.

He had been trying to finish the book for a damn age. He had made the mistake of picking it up from the bookstore in the airport back in June when he had to participate in the new jet launch that the brass has strongly suggested he attended, which admittedly had been a cool experience but he had barely made his way through the book during the plane ride where it had been left abandoned in his suitcase until he landed back in Miramar where it had been placed on his side table, forgotten.

He appreciated the way the book smoothly transitioned from scene to scene, the fact he hadn't read it in months hardly hindered him as he quickly fell into understanding of what was happening. Miss Elisabeth and Mr Darcy . Yes, how had he forgotten how painfully obvious they both were. His nose screwed up momentarily as he quickly backtracked and reread the line, they couldn't be serious. He had suffered through this entire book for these two blind sided idiots to confess and they had sprung this on him? Christ it was like watching Avolone and Lennox all over again. If he wanted to suffer through his painfully thick pinning he would have just stayed on base. He rubbed the bridge of his nose grumbling quietly as he allowed himself to scan the paragraph again.

Rain, a dramatic atmosphere, tears and the only main male lead in the book who meant a damn, and she was so painfully blind to it all. He read as Mr Darcy bore his heart to her, his painful awkwardness stinting him as he tried to express his feelings towards her and her family as he all but knelt down on one knee.

“From the very beginning—from the first moment, I may almost say—of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."

His heart ached at Elizabeth's agony as she realized in the moment she denied him that she was utterly blindly in love with him. Realized that her weakness for Mr Darcy would be her downfall.

A marriage proposal, how preposterous. How utterly romantic.

She loves him, so deeply, so gut wrenchingly. He could almost feel it, reaching off the page as it tried to engulf him.

He jerked slightly with a swear as his gaze darted up from the book as his phone vibrated on the table. He had been so engaged in the scene he hadn't realized that the sun had started biting at his skin or that his once steaming tea had long gone cold. His knees started to ache from his seated position and his lack of movement. He hadn't realized how long he had been here. His breath shuttered slightly as he pulled himself back to the world of the living placing the bookmark between he pages trying to ignore the grief of walking away at such a pivotal moment resisting the urge to let himself finish the chapter as he reached down and grabbed his still ringing phone placing the book to the side on the couch cushion.

He frowned slightly at the name that was written across the screen, he slid his thumb across the screen and pulled the phone up to his ear. Even on his day off he couldn't escape the daggers. He leaned back taking a balanced breath feeling his heart match a steady rate as he silently did his mini meditations again trying to suppress the anxiety of his work again now that he had been so rudely reminded of it. He reached for his tea, frowning slightly at the cold touch of the mug and took a sip grimacing at the taste before stubbornly swallowing it and placing it back on the table, reminding himself to tip it down the sink after the call.

“Admiral Simpson” he answered, waiting patiently for a reply only for his brows to furrow, frowning as the line stayed silent beside the slight audible wheeze that was being carried over the line. Has something happened on base? A fight? A malfunction? Surely Solomon would have told him, or maybe he was so busy arranging things that he hadn't had the chance. Seresin hadn’t been in medical school yesterday so something must have happened this morning. “Lieutenant Seresin” he called out, reminding them that he was the one who had in fact called him. Worry started to form in his gut swirling uncomfortably with the dread which had grown to an unfortunate mass. Something wasn't right.

“Sir?” the worlds were slurred unnaturally, so unlike the normally controlled man. It sounded confused, disorientated almost as if he was questioning the Admiral himself. “Ah shit-” the younger man cursed, there was the sound of something breaking and being ground into the ground slightly as the man caught his breath which came out in a painful wheeze. “I was meant to call Javy” Seresin muttered under his breath absently, seemingly confused.

Something was definitely wrong here, he had never seen the man in such a state to disregard the respect of ranks, not even when the man had been suffering a high fever and forced to go home by Maverick. The only disrespectful thing he had ever seen the kid do would be calling Maverick ‘Pops’, he had seen the kid respect and carefully toe the line of respect and disrespect with Cain and other Admirals over the years but he had never crossed it. He had never wanted to see the state the man would have to be in to disregard rank, to drop all pretense of respect and actively swear at an Admiral .

Something was wrong, it was only 11am there was no way the kid was drunk. It was far too early for most of the bars to be open and he knew Seresin was responsible tending to stick to only one beer while at the Hard Deck (from what Penny tells him) and the had to be under a considerable amount of stress for him to forget that Machado wasn't even in Miramar presently. The man had left two days ago to return home for the birth of his godchild, he remembered the request being added to his pile of files, he had taken the chance signing it before he filly read the paper, at that point he was taking any chance he got to get rid of a dagger for a time even if it was only one of them. At the time sending a dagger away meant one less to handle or stress about and a whole week has seemed like a blessing.

Now he was starting to regret it. He certainly wasn't a fan of the sound of Seresin slur, his mind rushing through other reasons the man could be so disoriented so early in the day. He assumed that whatever was causing the younger man to slur was also the reason for his painful wheezing.

“Where are you Seresin?” he asked as he stood up from the couch moving towards the door where he had left his running shoes this morning before sliding them on, placing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he tied up the laces. He had been glad he chose to wear something easy and comfortable today; he didn't want to waste time having to go and change.

“Wha-why?” the line cracked, and fell silent as he waited to be addressed only it never came. Head trauma then he decided, if Seresin had dropped rank enough to be talking to him casually as if they had known each other for years then there was definitely something wrong with his head. They may know each other through the chain of command but they did not know each other on a personal level and certainly not enough to be addressed so forwardly.

He briefly wished that the man was drunk, it would be far easier to handle. Instead he took a deep breath as worry caused his stomach to flutter at the out of character behavior.

“Because I'm coming to get you,” he explained patiently, as he shrugged on a jacket. Seresin was clearly spacy, he wondered if he should grab a first aid kit before deciding he could always drive him to a hospital if it’s that bad. He grabbed his keys from the bowl on the counter as he opened his door quickly locking it behind him with a twist of his key.

“You don't have to do that, s-sir” Seresin protested, only for something to crash over the line and a small whimper followed it with a keen whine of pain. Was someone else there with the kid? Was Seresin still in danger?

His brows furrowed as he opened the door to his truck and climbed inside. “Are you injured?” Other than the obvious head and chest injury. There was no way he was leaving this kid wherever he was, the 28 year old was clearly not in the right mind space to be able to take care of himself, let alone know where he was. He refused to leave him in a situation while the kid was compromised and unable to make rational decisions. He was his pilot, his subordinate, it was his responsibility to take care of them. Even if it meant going to find one like a wild goose chase on his rare days off. The engine rumbled as he pulled out of his driveway driving towards the center of town.

There was a moment of hesitation before there was a small “Yes”, it was a small admission almost as if the younger man was ashamed of the fact.

“Then I'm coming to get you. I'm already on my way, kid but I need you to stay on the phone with me okay? I need you to go to your maps and share your location with me so I can come find you kid”. He listened carefully as Seresin moved, letting out a pained hiss, fabric moving as he adjusted to fiddle with the phone.

Christ these kids would be the death of him, his heart was already hammering in his chest as he waited impatiently for the message to come through. Phone balancing on the centre console as he glanced over as the screen lit up. The wheezing sounded worse, almost wet. His jaw clenched at the address, he wasn't far. What the hell was the kid doing in that part of town?

So much for a day off.

“I’m coming kid, just hang on for me alright? I'm only a few minutes away” he waited for a few seconds with bated breath but there was no response. “Kid?” his stomach dropped as he glanced back down at the address before speeding up as he turned onto the road, he knew that there was an old bar in that area and by the sounds of it the younger man must be nearby because as far as he was aware there was no other reason to be in that part of town besides the piece of shit hole in the wall. “Seresin? Answer me, that is an order Lieutenant".

He swallowed thickly with unease reaching over to connect the call to his car via bluetooth hoping that perhaps the man was just talking too lowly for him to pick up on speaker. Anxiety climbed as the phone took a brief moment to connect to the car, “Talk to me Seresin”. The line was far too silent.

Jake sounded disoriented, “What?” It sounded like something was shuffling around “Cyclone?”.

“I'm here kid, talk to me”. Thank fuck. He let out a controlled relieved exhale out of his nose, hands tensing around the wheel briefly before navigating his way through the road. That head injury must have been more than he thought it was, had the kid forgotten he was there? He was too spacey for it to be safe. He hadn't thought it would be that bad, sure the man was confused and slurring but he had a bad feeling of what he might find.

“About what?”

“Anything kid,” he would listen to the kid talk about pain dry at this point. He really didn't like the way worry settled in his stomach, or the way he felt the urge to speed up when he knew fully well that he was already doing the speed limit. When had become so attached to these pilots to drag such a strong reaction out of him, for him to become so…protective of them. The idea of finding who ever did this to the younger man brought him far too much satisfaction than it should since he was only the man’s supervisor. “I want to make sure you stay awake” he didn't mention that there was a lingering feeling of terror that if the man went silent again he might not be able to get him back. The led in his stomach felt heavier with each delayed response “I need to make sure you don't have a concussion alright? You ended to stay awake for me”

“Yes sirrr ”

“Good job kid, ok. Hit me with your worst. Tell me something ”

“Did you know…did you know that Hawaii was a state…”

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