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missathlete31 · 2 years

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Nowhere to Run- Chapter 4

Five months after The Confrontation and things are not looking good for Maverick- (WARNING- MAVERICK GOES THROUGH IT THIS CHAPTER- I apologize in advance but this is an ANGST WRITING ZONE, be warned)

I feel like posting two chapters today. Please note if you’ve missed chapter 3 you can find it here- https://www.tumblr.com/missathlete31/712311725180026880/nowhere-to-run-chapter-3

It had been five months since the Navy decided to make the Daggers a permanent squad and not a day had gone by smoothly in Maverick's opinion. It had all started with Hangman's confrontation, a memory which seemed to be destined to plague the older pilot's mind forever. Jake's words that day were like knives, slicing the peaceful charade that Maverick had clung so hard to after the mission. After almost losing so much, including his own life and the life of his godson, the aging Captain just wanted stability, was that so much to ask? The team needed it too, they were all lost in that post adrenaline clinginess that pushed pilots to dangerous addictions found in bars and strangers bedrooms. But not the Daggers, not his Daggers, they just wanted a place to belong, or so Pete's naive mind told him. This was his own chance at that familial unit he always longed for and yet Seresin had to destroy it all in just a matter of seconds.

The adult part of Maverick knew the fallout was his own damn fault for bringing up such an explosive topic and in a public forum no less but never in his wildest dreams did he imagine how destructive things would have gotten; how raw and how real. The wounds left behind were gaping, the slashes making Pete feel exposed; his choices questioned, his judgment scorned, his leadership capabilities almost completely gone.

So much in Maverick wanted to be mad at Hangman, and a younger version of himself would have been. He would have lashed back, (similar to how Bradley did), stood up for himself and ripped Jake Seresin and his haughtiness into a whole other stratosphere. But Pete wasn’t that type of man anymore, not after decades of Ice running interference, playing blocker, and molding Pete into something resembling a commanding officer in the Navy.

Maverick didn’t fight Hangman that day but he also didn’t talk him down. He stood frozen as the room erupted in emotion and tension. He could have stepped up and called order to the group, he should have as an officer and as their leader, but instead he stayed quiet.

There was so much he wished he could change about that day, so much he wish he had articulated to the blonde or even to the rest of the group. Maybe he could have salvaged the team, or at least salvaged the relationships on his team. But no. Instead Maverick stood in that hangar frozen with guilty thoughts and feelings of inadequacy and now all the pilots that had been under his command were struggling.

When the dust settled from the altercation only four original Daggers were left: Rooster, Phoenix, Fanboy and Fritz.

If Hangman’s words had any positive, it was that it made Bradley a permanent fixture to the Captain Mitchell's side. Rooster defend Maverick without hesitation and though Maverick knew that half the argument was due to the two younger pilots absolutely hating each other, a part of him felt warmed by the steadiness of having Rooster in his corner. After Jake had left and Bradley moved to leave as well, Pete followed his godson, the two talking out Bradley’s frustrations and giving each other what the other needed. For Bradley it was support and guidance, for Mav it was a family.

Bradley sticking with him had been a pleasant surprise to Maverick. After the mission and then the loss of the Dagger Squad, Pete had tried to seize onto the young Bradshaw with both hands, a notion that seemed to be encouraged by Rooster. He started coming over to Pete's hangar to work on the Mustang, he joined him for dinner, the two even took a trip to the cemetery together to pay respect to Bradley's parents and talk about the mission. It was everything Maverick had hoped for but the rejection from 16 years ago made him leery of when the bubble would burst. After the loss of Ice, Maverick didn't think he was strong enough to handle Bradley leaving him again as well. It wasn't right, he knew it wasn't, but anything the older man could do to keep Bradley by his side he would, his own career be damned.

As for the rest of the Daggers things weren't as simple.

Phoenix staying seemed like a given in the beginning but Pete assumed he was going to lose her after Bob left. The woman, defying expectations once more, stayed put, firmly by Bradley's side but with a few more walls up now that so many of her teammates had bailed. She wasn't the same pilot as she was before the mission; the teasing gone and the confidence hollowed down to a harsher cockiness that never felt right from Natasha. She lost her heart and instead of being a steadfast welcome-committee for their newcomers, Lieutenant Trace seemed to become their resident bully. Phoenix had single-handedly scared away three separate WSO's that she didn't feel were up to her standards. Maverick had meant to sit her down, to talk things out with her, but he felt so off-footed since the Seresin incident that he wasn't sure how to even broach the topic anymore. So the Captain gave the female pilot space and pretended to ignore how lifeless their Phoenix was becoming.

As despondent as Natasha looked, she held nothing to Fanboy. After Payback announced not only his declining of the Dagger Squad but his actual retirement, Maverick assumed Mickey was leaving just as quickly. Instead the young pilot stayed on but unfortunately without any of his life and spirit. Payback was Fanboy's best friend, almost like his older brother and having managed successfully one of the most difficult missions ever attempted in Naval history, Mickey was coming down from the adrenaline very lonely. He still kept up his jovial mood as best he could but something crucial was missing and instead of cheering everyone up, Mickey just became another reminder of what they had lost. Things were hopefully going to turn around now that Fanboy was flying with Phoenix. After sending yet another WSO packing, Fanboy offered to back-seat with her. Maverick couldn't tell who looked more thrown off from the prospect but they both eventually managed to agree. The first hop didn't end in tears, yells, or a crash, so Pete was encouraged.

Billy Avalone was Maverick's biggest surprise of all though. Fritz was a talented pilot, one of the best of the group, and Hangman wasn't wrong when he said that the last week of training featured Fritz, Fanboy and Payback hitting the targets and the time fluently. Yet Maverick didn't pick him for the mission, and if the older man was honest with himself, Fritz was never even considered. It was Rooster and Hangman if it were two pilots going, and the minute Maverick claimed the team leader spot, it was Bradley as his wingman; nothing else to decide. When the yelling had started in the Hangar and Fritz's skills brought to attention, Maverick assumed it was a one way ticket for Billy to split. Instead, Fritz stayed at North Island. Mav had later found out it was because the Avalone family lived close by, but it still meant something that the kid stuck it out with the team; a decision Maverick knew he was probably regretting at this point.

There were just too many spots to fill.

The list of Naval Aviators that had volunteered to join them was long and distinguished, but also a revolving door. No one seemed to last beyond a week or two. Personalities clashed, fights were always raging between someone in the locker room, and it bled out into the skies. The whole process reminded Pete a lot of his time at Top Gun but with more viciousness. Perhaps because the stakes were higher, or maybe because the original Daggers were mourning the loss of the team they could have been, but it seemed like every other day Maverick was being called into Admiral Simpson's office about yet another pilot calling for a reassignment.

Some egos were too high to curtail, others too low to build up. Some people gelled well under Maverick’s tutelage; others rolled their eyes and were back with their old squadrons by the next morning. The frustration on everyone’s part was reaching a breaking point and Pete knew his chance of running this team was diminishing with each frown on Admiral Simpson’s face. Maverick’s time was nearing its end and he no longer had Ice to buffer his fall. He was on his own, no parachute in sight.

Maverick headed up to his plane for the first hop of the day with little excitement. The joy he used to have with the prospect of training the best of the best had slowly numbed down to an obligation, something he never wanted when it came to flying. He saw it in some of the other’s eyes as well and the pain that that caused him, hurt even more. He sighed, his hold on his helmet clenching tighter as he chastised himself. He owed it to the pilots he still had, the pilots that were being brought in, to give it his best. Resolving himself, Maverick found some pep, deciding the first hop of the day would be the perfect opportunity to run some of his old tricks. He was going up with two planes, a double and a single. All three pilots were replacements. The duo, Xavier “Professor X” Jones and Benjamin “Sherlock” Harrington, were working well and a fairly decent acquisition. They gelled well with the others and Sherlock had even flown in the same squadron as Bradley once during a deployment in Japan. Maverick was happy with their skills but was more impressed with their teamwork, the two flew together like naturals after only two months.

The single pilot was a different story. Adam “Flash” Scafer was the newest tryout for the team. He was young, painfully so compared to some of the others, having only graduated Top Gun about a year ago. Flash had shockingly blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a cocky attitude. All three combined made him a ghost of two blondes that still haunted Pete’s mind. His teamwork definitely needed work but it was his skills that worried Maverick the most. The kid acted as though flying came so naturally to him but Pete found he lacked the normal instincts of a Naval Aviator. Everything seemed to take an extra second before Flash moved, almost as though he had to think it through. It wasn’t necessarily the worst thing to think out there (no matter how much Maverick stood behind his ‘don’t think, just do’ mantra), but Lieutenant Scafer would then over-correct or push to make up for that split second of time, leaving him flailing and his plane erratic. Pete was convinced the kid wouldn’t make it past the week.

Despite his shortcomings, Flash talked- and a lot. Captain Mitchell knew he wasn’t the only one who saw the similarities to Hangman, Flash taking over the room like the former blonde did but with none of the finesse. Bradley had already almost come to blows with the kid and he’d only been there three days. Fritz had mentioned to Fanboy in a stage whisper that Seresin must have sent the team his long lost love child just to screw with them, a joke that didn’t land quite as well as Billy had hoped (Rooster had huffed and stormed off, Phoenix following this time).

As Maverick watched the three pilots get into their aircrafts and take to the skies, he decided to have fun and test some limits. It had been a while since he pulled some of the tricks he did with the original Daggers, and he missed some of his daring moves, especially his infamous entrance. Ramming through the small space between two planes, first attempted between Payback and Rooster’s jets during the first day of Uranium Mission training, was always the best way to examine the team’s skill levels. He had attempted it a few times as other pilots took their turns with the squad, Maverick watching as majority stayed in control during the surprise swoop in. There were a few sloppy maneuvers, certainly nothing as clean as from his original Daggers, but nothing life-threatening.

Maverick turned his plane into position, listening to Sherlock fill Flash into their flight plan before Pete came crashing in to their personal space, quite literally. Captain Mitchell flew through perfectly, his plane staying straight and vertical as his speed and velocity caused a concussion of air to ripple over the other F-18 Super Hornets. He smirked as he listened to the initial curse of surprise from Jones, the pilot shifting to his left with a jerky motion. Mav moved to speak in his radio and chide Xavier for the sloppiness when a cry of serious profanities stopped him in his tracks and made his blood run cold.

“Shit!” he recognized Sherlock’s voice, normally so composed and calm on the radio, “shit Flash what the hell-“

“Fuck-“ the blonde had screamed over his teammate instead of answering, the hollering loud and fearful, “fuck!”

Sherlock was still talking, a rambling of mashed up sentence that tried to resemble coherence, "shit- we're- Flash you went left- shit! We're- Fire! X! X!" he cried and Maverick turned his plane around enough to catch the result of what had to be a midair collision. It seemed Flash had rolled left instead of right after Maverick’s trick, sending him towards the other jet where he struck the entire starboard side. Jones’s plane was falling fast, it’s wing crushed and a fire starting along the right side causing them to spin out of control. Pete’s hand shook and suddenly it seemed hard to breath. His mind flashed back to his own tailspin so many years ago, the taste of death filling his sense and rendering him mute.

“Base? Base this is Sherlock-“ the WSO sounded close to tears as he called over the radio, pleading for some sort of assistance in a helpless situation, “we have made contact with Flash, I repeat we have made contact with Flash-“

“We’re going down Sherlock” Jones was speaking now, his voice hoarse as he groaned over the radio. Maverick could picture him, his body fighting the G’s of his freefall while pitifully gripping his stick to get out of it. There was nothing he could do, nothing any pilot could do, except to bail, and yet every pilot always tried to save their damn jet up until the very end.

“Base our right engine is on fire” Sherlock recited, “the whole wing is destroyed-“

Maverick could see the fire spreading, the plane falling closer to the ground with each passing second. Suddenly the radio clicked back on and Admiral Simpson’s voice was booming, “Captain Mitchell what the hell is going on up there?” he asked desperately, clearly unhinged by what he was hearing from the ground. "Who hit who?"

His questions went unanswered as the spiraling plane continued their frantic calls, “Shit! I’m a dead stick Benny" Jones informed agonizingly, "we gotta eject-“

Sherlock sounded like he was crying, a wet sob sounding over the comms, “We’re too out of control-“

“Captain Mitchell?” Cyclone tried again, but when he heard nothing, he turned back to the pilots in trouble, “Jones, Harrington, eject now. Get out of there-“

“But Sir-“

“Pull it Jones! That's an order!"

"I can't-" Xavier's breath hitched, "I can't reach- shit" he cursed with a audible hiss, "the fire- it's hitting the cockpit-"

"Harrington pull the cord!"

“Good speed X” the fear in the WSO’s voice was palpable as he wished his pilot luck in what could be their final moments. Maverick watched in horror as the two-seater erupted in flames just as the canopy flew back. Both seats went up, both cleared the covering but Pete could see the flames that licked too close to Xavier’s body and quickly consumed the right side of his flight suit. He was close enough to see Jones’s frantic swatting before the parachutes deployed and both pilots began a slower decent back down to earth.

Seeing the two parachutes and the movements of both pilots gained Pete back his voice and he zoned back in to hear Simpson’s continual calling of information. He cleared his throat, feeling parched, “B-Base" his voice sounded weak and shaky to his own ears, "Lieutenants Jones and Harrington have ejected. Send rescue immediately”

“Maverick" Simpson's voice seemed to rise in octave with a strange mixture of relief and scorn, "what the hell happened out there? Where were you?”

“I- I’m over the rescue site Sir-“

“I meant when it happened Captain, where were you?"

"Up here Sir, I- I missed the collision," he spoke up, not quite ready to admit out loud his part in the cause of it, "but I saw the tailspin and the fire. Have the burn unit on standby, Jones's suit seemed to have caught."

"How did it-" but Beau cut himself off, knowing it wasn’t the time or the place to get into Mitchell’s actions. Instead he hollered to the other pilot in the sky, “Lieutenant Scafer status?”

“S-Sir?” the blonde sounded absolutely wrecked, long removed from the cocky jerk he was not even an hour ago, and Maverick turned his head to see him circling disjointedly a few dozen feet above him, “S-Sir, I’m so s-s-sorry-“ Adam whimpered.

Simpson's voice softened a fractionally amount at the clearly distressed pilot on the other end, “What is the status of your plane Lieutenant?”

The young man swallowed nervously, “D-Damaged but flyable” he stuttered.

“Get back to base immediately” Cyclone ordered, no room for argument. Pete listened as Flash gave a puny "Yes Sir" before turning his plane and heading back to base. Down below, Harrington and Jones were seconds from touching down, and Maverick could hear the chatter on the radio from the rescue squad that was just taking off. He was about to list his coordinates when the Admiral addressed him once more. "Mitchell head back to base as well."

"But I'm over the crash site Sir-"

"I don't want you in the air anymore" the higher ranking man stated frankly, "get back to base."

"But Sir-"

"Now Mitchell" and then Pete heard the telltale sound of the frequency being switched. The naval captain was cut off from the news of the rescue, resolved to head back to base like a delinquent child; the looming threat of punishment heavy on the horizon.

A hour later Pete sat in the waiting room of the medical unit on base, his legs jumping from nerves as he waited for news. His four original Daggers had all been in to see him, Rooster pale and unsteady, Phoenix stoic, Fanboy sad and Fritz in shock. They didn't last long though, as Warlock ushered them all out and into a lecture room for a debrief, another sign to Maverick that his days were officially numbered.

Now Pete sat alone and in silence, his mind supplying all the noise he could need as it remembered obscure facts about his downed pilots. How Jones played four years of varsity soccer in high school. How Sherlock always kept a pen and pad on him, no matter where they were. How the duo each had one younger brother, one younger sister and a yellow lab. How it was meant to be for them to be flying together, how natural it came to them both. Pete couldn’t help but wonder if the two would ever fly together again or like everything else in the Captains life, he ruined something good once again.

Footsteps heading towards him snapped Maverick out of his own mind and he looked up to see Admiral Simpson walking forward. The man looked like the very definition of stress, his face pinched with worry and his hands clenching at his sides. He nodded to the chair to Pete's left before speaking, "can I sit?" he asked softly.

Pete nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he watched Beau sit with a heavy sigh. The two men sat in silence for a moment, watching the bustle of the medical ward that they both spent far too much time in yet still felt foreign. Finally Cyclone cleared his throat, "Lieutenant Jones is still in surgery," he informed stoically, "once they get the internal bleeding taken care of they will address the burns."

"How- How bad?" Maverick whispered, afraid to hear the answer.

"Second degree on his chest and thighs, right arm is third degree" the Admiral's eyes shifted to Maverick for a second before staring back at the wall, "It's going to be a long road back."

"Can he make it back?"

Beau shook his head, "I don't know, that's up to him." He hesitated for a moment, clearly debating what to say next. "Pete listen-"

"How’s Sherlock?” Maverick interrupted instead, startling Beau as he struggled to refocus. The Admiral ran a hand through his hair and Maverick could see it was shaking slightly, even hardened Cyclone was thrown off by this day. "Lieutenant Harrington,” Simpson paused, "he was able to get away without the worst of it. Bumps and bruises mostly, possible whiplash from the ejection." He looked down at his hands. "I'm concerned about him psychologically though.”

Pete could only nod, picturing his young pilot in question at a table scribbling little notes and observations in his damn note pad. Mav found he already missed him. Pete tried to swallow his guilt but it choked him, “he- uh,” Mav tried again, “Benny’s been through a lot."

"He was the one who had to try to put the fire out on Jones after they both landed. Rescue said he was frantic when they arrived, crying and-" the other man trailed off shaking his head, "I don't know what we will get from him in the future either."

The guilt felt suffocating in Pete's throat. He closed his eyes, thinking of the pilot duo that would most likely never grace the skies again, "I destroyed two pilots today" he whispered only for himself but Admiral Simpson heard as well. The other man looked pained as he turned to his Captain. "Pete" he shook his head, "you're a brilliant pilot and the Navy owes you so much-"

"But my time is up" Maverick finished, meeting his superior's eyes, "I ruined two pilots-"

"Three."

The world had already seemed too close to stopping before but now Pete was sure it had ceased to spin on its axis. His mind went blank, unable to connect the words from his CO's mouth into any form of understanding, "W-Who?" he asked dumbly.

Beau's face split into deep concern, his brow furrowed with it. "Scafer" he explained carefully, too cautious for the normal antagonist in Maverick's life, "he's turned in his wings."

"What?" the shock bled from his voice like a wound, "He- Was he hurt?" Pete racked his brain, knowing that he saw Flash land safely but so he lacked any confidence in himself at the moment that he couldn't be sure. "I thought he landed okay?"

"He did" and now it was devastation on Simpson's features. The Admiral seemed overwhelmed and at his wits end almost as bad as Maverick, "he's turned in his wings. Thinks it's his fault" the man knew he was walking on shaky ground and proceeded with caution, "I was able to debrief him a little before I sent him to medical to be treated for shock. He explained his actions up in the air."

"So he told you everything?" Pete focused on keeping his voice tempered.

"About the maneuver you pulled and his reaction? Yes."

Mav nodded, emotion welling in his throat but he stubbornly swallowed it down, "And ah- will there be an inquiry?"

Beau stared the other man down, watching the unease radiate off him in waves. He knew Pete for about twenty years in total and never had he ever seen the other man's composure so clearly lost. He had heard about the Maverick that appeared after Goose's death, the scared and timid pilot that couldn't engage but this was different. That Maverick lacked confidence, this Maverick , the one sitting on the uncomfortable hospital chair with his legs bouncing up and down and his shoulders hunched, this Maverick lacked his very soul. This wasn't the Ace pilot that Cyclone was used to, this was a broken has-been who would never find his glory again. "A committee will meet to go over what happened, you'll have to appear-"

"Will you be on it?"

Beau wished he could have said yes, despite their initial misgivings he still respected the Captain, but he had been excused almost immediately from Admiral Cain for being too close to the incident, "No, Bates and I were both excused."

Maverick gave a heavy sigh, "I'll be forced to retire" he deduced emotionlessly.

"Most likely." Cyclone admitted and he could see the appreciation on Maverick's face for his honesty. He opened his mouth to say more but a nurse walked forward drawing both of their attentions. "Excuse me but Admiral Simpson?"

He moved to stand, "Yes?"

"Lieutenant Jones is out of surgery," she informed professionally, "If you follow me I can take you to Doctor Mason, he can debrief you on the Lieutenant's condition."

"Thank you" and Simpson moved to stand. He took three steps down the hallway before turning to Captain Mitchell one more time. Straightening his posture he met the Captain with a sharp salute, "it's been a honor Captain."

Maverick stood as well, saluting back, "Thank you Sir." He watched Beau offer a hand out and he took it like a lifeline and shook promptly. "For what it's worth" Cyclone told him, "I'm sorry. We might not have seen eye to eye on a lot of things but I meant what I said when I told you the Navy owed you for your years of service."

Pete struggled to contain his emotions, "T-Thank you Sir.”

"I'll have someone send you an update on the conditions of Jones and Harrington" and then the Admiral left, off to fulfill his duties like the distinguished officer he was. Maverick stayed behind, lost like he's never known before, facing a future that had never seemed more uncertain or more dark.

How is everyone doing? Hate me yet? Thrown this story out the window?

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