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kloofspeaks · 2 years ago

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Top Wave | A Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw Fictional Work

Words: 3044

Sneakpeek: She was holding onto too tight, she was holding onto her father’s spirit like a crutch, no one could stop her from grabbing her board and placing it upon the rushing waves and jumping onto the deck doing what she was made to do.

She was made to surf.

Chapter Four Out of Ten

Chapter List : here

Inspiration - Artwork by MustaseKittens

(Tags: @callmemana, @notyoursbutlewis, @bayisdying, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy)

The soft dings of cups clanking, Y/N was leaning against the warm counter of her cubby that sat in the corner. She figured tonight wasn’t going to be hard, especially with it being packed, not most surfers came in to ask for something huge. She was still pondering on the subject about the night at the Bradshaw’s. She hadn’t lost the loosening feeling of the chains that were invisibly wrapped around her wrist, she couldn’t describe the crack in between them and the promise she gave to her wishing father.

She could remember the feeling of his hands, they felt a lot like Bradley’s in a sense, rough and worked, yet smooth. Her eyes floundered around the designed space of the bar, the collection of empty cups and people that were crowded at certain tables. She saw it as her highschool days, everyone had someone, everyone but herself. She hadn’t spotted Goose since the night she spent having dinner with his lovely family.

Bradley didn’t let go of her hand till they went to dinner, his warm and tight grip, Carole never questioned on what took them so long, what could’ve possibly delayed dinner. She figured the spooked and ghostly looks they all gave her was enough said, Carole wasn’t one to pry much like Goose, she was quite spirited, very wise and kind. She could imagine how well her mother would’ve gotten along with Carole, they were very much alike in a sense.

The night went on like normal, she enjoyed the dinner, watched a small movie with Bradley and said her farewells before heading out for the shift she had at The Hard Deck that night and now she was leaning against her counter fighting the feeling that had formed last night from her and Goose’s small chat about her father. The feeling of broken chains, the feeling of the promise she made slipping from her fingertips, her red and hot finger tips.

Her cheeks were brushed with a rough red, her hand kept pulsing into a fist everytime she brought it back to her attention, she was too focused on this broken feeling as if something was missing, or something was trying to tell her something. She knew Goose and Bradley had mentioned surfing, Goose had tried to get her to step back into surfing on multiple accounts, but she had said it pretty simply, she was a waterboarded seal.

She was stuck on the land with no way out, she was grasping for help out of a promise that couldn’t ever be broken even with the right words, the right touch. She was stuck behind the bars of her cubby, the one where the bars were completely invisible except to her and her toil. Goose couldn’t ever see the same bars that taunted her each day, the same bars that somehow had a shadow in her dull and broken eyes. She looked out the glass windows that looked straight out to the folding blue waters.

She wasn’t longing, she could feel herself reaching out for those folding and graceful looking waves, she breathed out slightly looking back at her board. She couldn’t break the promise, she couldn’t bring herself to let her father’s wishes wash away like chalk in the rain, the same chalk her father used in the summer. Y/N couldn’t ponder from behind her cubby, the one that played music ever so often, the song My Girl by The Temptations was playing on her old static radio, the one that couldn’t handle the volume once it got to a certain volume.

She was holding onto too tight, she was holding onto her father’s spirit like a crutch, no one could stop her from grabbing her board and placing it upon the rushing waves and jumping onto the deck doing what she was made to do.

She was made to surf.

She was made to be able to walk out to the water without lasting guilt on the tip of her tongue, her eyes found their way back to her board, the one with the surfsign Destiny. It was in bright blue letters, the color her father chose for her as a child. The one she had no say in, the destiny her father wanted for her was written on that board, the one she made as a child with the help of her father’s grown hands, his rough and solid hands.

The ones that lifted her off the ground as she giggled, the destiny he formed with his own hands. This wasn’t her destiny, it was her father’s, his wish for that destiny was to not surf, he was the one who lived that destiny, the one she was put into when she was young and never had another word. She slowly walked over to the hanging board on the rack, the one that had built up so much dust and compliments it irked her. Her gentle fingers brushing over the words once again, before she peeled off the surfsign, this wasn’t her destiny, it was her father’s.

The one that was buried and asked one last wish of his daughter, the one that now stood in her cubby pulling away at the surfsign everyone once called her, she didn’t hate her father, this wasn’t a way of rejecting his path for her, it was her way of starting a new, “What are you doing?” her gaze was distracted by a stranded Goose, he stood there holding a glass full of beer, she hadn’t seen him since the night she spent at his house.

“Starting over,” She answered confidently, she had the music on a low volume for once, “I want a new surfsign,” She was raw with her words, there was no emotion behind her broken tone.

There was no more crack between the chains and her father’s promise, there were no chains to begin with, they were just walls that she used to cover for her fear, her fear of letting her father down, “But you don’t surf,” Goose took a fine, rushed sip of beer before placing it on the counter and just staring at her.

“That’s what the old me used to say,” She wanted to add on ‘And what my father’s Destiny would’ve said,’ but she decided against it, letting the song Kyrie take over the sound that came from the cubby every night.

“Are you telling me you’re going to surf?” Goose had an expression she had never seen on his face, she could read it off as slight confusion, the other seemed to be astonished, perhaps even a little bit shocked.

“I’m not waterboarded,” She reminded him of what he said two nights before, the night where he started prying at her old wounds, the night where she was mere-seconds from throwing her father’s old beat-up radio at that messy stache of his.

“Is that a yes?” Goose asked, he was being cautious, he didn’t want to upset her, but he could tell that the chat they had in Bradley’s room just last night seemed to open her eyes on a lot of things.

“Is Bradley here?” She didn’t give him a clear answer, instead she had wiped her board clean of her surfsign, the one that had been with her since childhood, the one she would have people call her instead of her actual name, the destiny that wasn’t even her own, her false destiny.

“He’s out by the sand, why?” Goose was growing worried, the sudden mood swing, the rejectment of her wanting to touch or even speak about her board with him, to removing her old surfsign and asking for Bradley’s own appearance, to him it sounded like she was asking him if Bradley could teach her how to surf again, especially since she knew she couldn’t stand on the slippery deck of her badly needed waxed board without some assistance.

“I’ll have to talk to him later,” She claimed, throwing the shreds of the sticker into the garbage can beside where she normally stood, “I just have a question for him.”

“Can I ask what that question is?” He was responded with a silent shake of her head while the song she was playing looped once more, he was used to the constant looping that her radio always did, the radio that was breaking down after each song, she was holding a confident conversation with Goose with the music not being the max level, the level where it got static with the bass of the song everytime it reached a certain pitch.

“You’ll just have to wait,” She answered, her eyes watching the clock, she was off early due to her still packing and Penny being so relaxed about her certain struggles, the moment the clock hit her free state she was leaving to think, to plan, to fix her mistakes that had gone over the years she held herself back.

Goose was at a loss of words, Y/N had never been like this, he was used to the relaxed, oddly tense, red faced Y/N that came into The Hard Deck playing her father’s old tunes, the way her expressions used to change when he brought up surfing, the one thing she longed for, the one thing she would beg for if she could, the one thing she promised she wouldn’t do to her weakened father. The one Goose used to surf with on the weekends when Maverick wasn’t around, the man that showed Goose a couple new tricks before disappearing from their weekly bonds, from letting Goose fall apart like his own daughter that stood in front of him.

He could tell something was on her mind, something that he couldn’t understand in his own logic. He was still stuck on the lone thought of why she was trying to remove the memories she had with her father, the one that gave her surfsign. He couldn’t quite put his finger in the right spot, the spot that explained why she was acting so differently from the peaceful night before. The night where she refused Goose of her surfing once more.

He had seen her longing looks, the looks that Penny mentioned everytime he would mosey over towards her lonely corner. The complaints that came from her beloved friend, the one that complained about her poor excuse of a smile because she was clearly facing something beyond Penny’s understanding, Goose hadn’t ever been in the place where his parents left him behind, they wouldn’t ever leave him alone even if he asked for some sort of space. Y/N didn’t need to ask for that space though, she was sitting there pondering, her perch hadn’t stricken her face, the iconic lift of her brow, the look she would give him when she felt judged.

He didn’t know how her father would feel if he stepped inside The Hard Deck only to find his one and only daughter peeling away at the surfsign he had gifted her. He could see the look, the look of freedom in her eyes. Was she doing it because she felt like it was a burden? It was the thoughts that crossed Goose’s mind as he stepped towards her cozy corner, the one where he had taught her to wax boards and sing loudly without fear of judgment. The one where he spilled the information of his own son like fresh salt.

The Y/N that stood before him wasn’t the Y/N that spoke to him weakly about her father and what he knew about him the day before, the brisk glance she gave him saying farewell as she stepped out of the door. He hadn’t noticed the falter, the shift in her emotions, the shift in the promise that vomited from her father’s dying breath. He didn’t understand, he didn’t get it, she wasn’t like Bradley, she wasn’t like his son where he could read the expression and thought on his face.

He used to tell her she thought out loud a lot, the look that would scrunch up at the sight of the water or a simple surfer that came asking for some wax, something small. He thought a lot about the look that Bradley got when the hit from his board accidentally shifted her song, the song that kept her in focus and conversation. Not even the song that was smoothly chiming seemed to be keeping her focus, her eyes floundered, they glanced, they were watching, looking for something.

He remembered how she used to stare at the door when she would fall off conversation, the glance she would give in disappointment. She was looking for someone. Goose knew people could change, they could change drastically, but from going from the days before to suddenly wanting to surf again made Goose’s mind wonder, scramble itself thinking. Why would she want to start something her father swiftly asked her not to do, that is unless those chains of guilt were broken.

Goose had felt those chains, he felt those chains the moment he became waterboarded. The moment he became a beached whale and stopped Maverick from reaching his dream, the feeling of guilt eating alive at the only skin they possibly had left. He could say it was worse than survivor’s guilt, but he had thankfully never had to live through that guilt to say it was worse.

Goose could say she was fading, becoming more a character than he had ever seen. The character he was introduced to was a shallow and heartbroken sailor. The ones that would swoon over their mistakes like children. Now, the woman that stood in front of him was changed, he didn’t know if it was a good or bad sign. He saw this coming, he saw the change in her the moment Bradley handed her the photo of Marshall, the photo that would quite literally rock her world to bits.

She probably thought of why Marshall never brought Goose up, why she had never asked him of her father, he thought maybe she was too afraid to ask a stranger that surfed during her father’s golden age of him. The thoughts of failure, regret, toil, and forsaken energy had been standing there in Goose’s world, taunting him for his mistake of not finding Y/N sooner, not thinking that his disappearance would mean death in most sense.

“You’re thinking out loud, Goose,” Y/N looked at him, she was giving him the look he usually gave her when she pondered too fearfully, “I know,” he gave the brisk answer of what she spilled to him on the night she met Bradley.

“You thought so long, my shift is over,” She had a small snort, she knew she could think like Goose, she had done it tons of times, it made her crack a small smile on how much Goose had picked up on her fragile habits.

“That’s a short shift,” She felt like it was the night she met Bradley all over again, the mention of the short shift, her having to explain the moving process to his old brain all over aga- “I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?”

“You don’t come on..” her words dragged off her tongue as Goose answered swiftly and calmly, “If you’re asking Bradley what I think you’re asking, I’ll be here tomorrow, no doubt.”

Goose had figured her out, he knew she was going to ask him to help her regain her surfing knowledge, she breathed out slowly looking at the look he had stained on his face. She was shocked to know it wasn’t some form of disappointment, but a reassuring soft look in his eyes. The eyes that were the only ones that would glance her way when he wasn’t even looking for surfing supplies.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she answered, she still wasn’t going to confirm nor deny his questioning, the way he was going to figure out what she was thinking, he hummed in response as she gathered her things.

“I don’t think Bradley knows how to teach people how to surf,” Goose looked at her sharply, her eyes going wide at his statement, she knew it was a bold guess coming from his tongue.

“We can just try, I don’t see any issue with trying,” She still wasn’t confirming nor denying, she was just answering, “What if we plan for a different day?” She asked Goose, her eyes pondering over him just so she didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

“I’ll still be there, duckling.”

She knew Goose wouldn’t let up, first the night with the constant asking, and now she knew he figured out what she was thinking of doing, why she asked for Bradley specifically, she wanted someone from the Top Wave Academy to teach her the tricks without having gone to the academy, “Why don’t you want to ask Maverick?”

She knew Maverick was an instructor there, he was the person that probably taught Bradley everything he knew since his father’s accident, but she didn’t trust him that way. She trusted Bradley more than anyone that stood in her small circle of trustee’s. She knew Goose would’ve been up to help her the moment she asked, but she didn’t want to open an old wound of his while hers were just now growing fresh skin.

Bradley seemed like the calmer option, she figured he would be really confused on her question, the question to all questions, but she felt safe around him. Bradley was her music.

A music she couldn’t quite describe with simple words, it was thousands of songs into one person. That’s what she saw in Bradley Bradshaw, a tune that came off a single touch and went through her body like static, she wouldn’t ever forget the oddly familiar tune.

She popped open her phone to the contact labeled Rooster when she had finally stepped out of The Hard Deck, her grasp tight and uncomfortable as she wrote the message. She could see him out by the sand so she knew he wouldn’t see such a text in a while. She typed out her question, the question Goose had guessed just earlier,

‘Will you teach me how to surf?’

#top wave #kloofwriting #top gun maverick #top gun rooster #maverick and goose #bradley x y/n #bradley bradshaw #bradley x female reader #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #robert bob floyd #natasha phoenix trace #the three mustache-teers #pete maverick mitchell #tgm

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kloofspeaks · 2 years ago

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Oblivion | A Bradley Bradshaw Fictional Work

Words: 4054

Summary:

He threw his dreams down deep in his heart to focus on his failure, to him the world slowed down so he could catch up but it was starting to go faster the more he aged and the more he didn’t change. He had been stuck in this flooding stronghold since he was given the memory of his father dying, when his mother got fed up with his childish questions and finally told him.

“The ocean took him from you.”

Chapter list can be found : here

Tags: @notyoursbutlewis, @bayisdying, @callmemana, @viothewolx

The water was calm, the scent of salt water stinging the noise hairs of Maverick as he was resting on the sand that was just mere-feet away from the deck of the bar. There were surfers spread about, kids speaking to their parents about their masterpieces that they made in the sand and then there was Maverick. He seemed to be watching every change in the water, how the foam changed after each wave, how much it curled, how it danced in the low light of the warm summer sun.

Who knew that something he found so beautiful would take two of the most important people of his life? He never knew the answer behind Bradley’s intentions that one fall evening he fell witness to the disgust of the ocean. Maverick wasn’t ever terrorized by the ocean even after Goose’s death, but Bradley seemed almost hooked up by a needle when it came to the water.

Maverick didn’t know why..

but Bradley’s journal seemed to spill the truth behind it.

Usually, the pages were used to relieve stress, the random doodles and complaints seemed to share how he felt. Bradley seemed to vent to paper rather than an actual human being. He wrote heartfelt comments, some were dated of his father’s death anniversary and they were always about the ocean and written in a deep red pen and a blue accent to the pages. He would ramble on about how the water seemed so beautiful this one summer night that he could remember it for days.

The only page that was touched on the day of his disappearance was page 95, it only had the date written in the worn abused corner of his journal, the cover was peeling, the book mark that was engraved was worn and fraying. Bradley had used this journal up until the day he didn’t need to anymore. There was a little piece of Bradley on each page, Maverick sometimes didn’t even know where to look for answers so he went to the book when he was straying away.

And finally he found it after years of flipping through the same journal over and over again, the handwriting changing each time till he realized that the 50th page was stuck to the backing of page 49. Maverick’s heart sank when he read the page, it was filled with descriptions of living up to expectations, even Mav was mentioned a few times but the most noticeable thing that would claw at Maverick forever was the use of the word; ‘Fear’

‘It felt like it was piercing my skin, it was cold, I was filled with mass amounts of fear.’

‘I was fearful of telling Mav about my dreams. I was afraid of the disappointed look I would be greeted with at his door, so I didn’t say a word.’

‘I only tried to get over it twice, they both ended with a state of terror I couldn’t ever describe.’

Bradley was afraid to tell Maverick about the struggles of his life. He walked around writing about the haunting of the swirling water swallowing him whole. He had tried to fix everything alone.

Maverick remembered the night they played dog fight football, after all the cheering and celebrating over Bob everyone had either gotten in the cold salty water to cool off or grabbed a beer, except Bradley. Bradley was the only person not to get in the water that day, he sat on the sidelines and watched like a stray puppy.

He wished he paid more attention to Bradley,

how he felt,

what he saw..

what he feared out there.

Instead, he was greeted with a page.

A page too late,

Bradley had already faded into Oblivion.

—

Phoenix and Bradley were sitting in Maverick’s old hangar going through his father’s old stuff. He had just repaired his relationship with Maverick so they were all on break after the most recent mission. Phoenix was trying to make small talk while they put most of his father’s things in a box, “Remember that one time we got stranded out on the road,” there was a snicker after her sentence Bradley assumed she was thinking of what kind of expression Bob gave her when she stated they were goners.

“You scared the living daylights out of Bob.” Bradley pointed out, grasping his father’s helmet in his hands as he placed it in a box labeled ‘Keepsake.’ Phoenix had her tough stance fade when Bradley reminded her even more about Bob’s worried expression.

“I wish I took a photo of that,” She laughed.

“No you don’t, because then it wouldn’t be as funny.” Bradley was speaking out of his ass at that point, he knew they would laugh at it every time they saw it, photo or not. “You better not tell Bob you came down here just to make fun of him while he’s getting new glasses.”

“I wasn’t planning on telling a lick of anything to him.” Phoenix said smugly, grabbing some of the photos that Maverick sat out for Bradley to take home with him since he didn’t have many of his father.

One of them was Bradley's family on the beach, they were in the water smiling like a small trio of dorks with their accents and colorful swimsuits. “Good, don’t hurt his pride, Hangman already does that enough-” Bradley froze in place when he saw Phoenix staring at the beach photo.

“When’s the last time you went in the water, Bradshaw?”

“Couple years ago,” Bradley shrugged it off, believing she wouldn’t question him more about it.

“I would’ve seen you in the water if it was a couple years ago, we never separated.” Phoenix was right. She hadn’t ever seen Bradley in the water when they went surfing or just spent a free day at the beach. “Is there something you want to share?”

Bradley looked at her with a twisted expression on his face, he had no clue what she was trying to hint here unless she was trying to get him to explain why he didn’t go in the water. He knew the excuse ‘I don’t like swimming’ wouldn’t pass Phoenix as normal when he seemed to love it as a kid.

“I don’t think so,” Bradley wasn’t going to fall for her antics of trying to get information out of him, it took her at least two years to make him spill what happened to his family. He wasn’t ready to deal with her when he had to share about his fear of the water that surrounded the state of California.

“Okay…” She came off wary, her eyes still on Bradley. She could read him like an open book, it was the way he expressed himself that made her realize he was hiding something.

He always came off tense when she asked about his parents all those years back, the discomfort that would make even his stern voice crack. He didn’t like speaking about his weaknesses even when Hangman was around he was as silent as a bat. Phoenix would pick and pry till he finally cracked and spilled all his secrets to her but this one topic wouldn’t even budge.

The asking started when he refused to go in the water after he yanked back on Bob so harshly that his glasses fell and cracked on the pavement. Bradley went from being filled with dread to repeating the same apology till Bob blamed himself for trying to force him into the water. Bradley was just afraid of the actions that Bob had pulled, he just grabbed his arm and led him out to the wispy waters.

One glance at the ocean made Bradley defend himself.

He had to move,

Yank,

Yank back

“Shit, I’m sorry, Bob.” Bradley bent down picking up the other’s silver rims, “I cracked them.” He whispered to himself as Bob was just standing there staring at Bradley with a look of worry.

“Are you okay?” Bradley froze from Bob’s words.

He just broke Bob’s glasses and the other was asking him if he was okay? It made him ponder what sort of look he had on his face that made Bob ask such a weird question though he had to answer, he couldn’t just stand there awkwardly holding Bob’s glasses out like it was a disease.

“I’m fine?” He furrowed his brows in a confused arch, letting Bob take his glasses from his hands. “I’m still sorry about your glasses.”

“It’s not a problem, they’re replaceable.” Bob snickered at the small crack in the corner of his lenses, he knew they were pricey to replace but he wouldn’t mention that to Bradley.

The look on Bradley’s face was something that could haunt Bob forever. His eyes hollowed out like an old oak tree, his body flinching back and causing Bob to be pushed back. He was looking right at the water, the one thing Bob had been requesting to hang out with Bradley in and that’s when the rumors started.

“Roo? Afraid? Pftt,”

“Not our Rooster.”

“He’s our fearless bird, how would he ever be scared?”

That’s when the looks on his friends' faces changed from worried to curious. Bradley was standing in a dim room, he could see their dark silhouettes staring back at him, he couldn’t make out anything but their eyes.

Bob’s glasses were cracked, just like that day. He was awoken by the same dream.

He sat in a dim interrogation room, he could hear the sounds of waves that came from a seashell but more intense. There was a wall of clear see-through glass, his friends staring right into him as if they were blaming him. It was a silent dream but Bradley felt like he could hear them chattering, speaking about his fear.

How come someone so brave could be so afraid?

“Earth to Roo-” Phoenix waved her hand in front of the stached dirty blonde, “You good, buddy?” Phoenix tilted her head, her brows lifting with worry.

Bradley stared at her for a moment, he had zoned out, standing there in the middle of the small stashed away room of Maverick’s hangar, gripping in his fingers was his father’s dog tags. He had gotten carried away thinking about the event that happened that even led to Bob having to get his glasses fixed.

“I’m fine, just thinking.” Before he even got his words out his voice cracked, he couldn’t find the words to escape his mouth as he would’ve escaped that room in that moment.

“You were thinking like a dead guy for about five minutes, are you hot?” She raised her hand to his forehead, she knew that day in California was a harsh one. The sun felt like needles to such a light skin. “You feel fine.”

“That’s because I am fine, Phoenix.”

“You never zoned out that badly before, it used to just be a few seconds. It seemed like the mention of water triggered it.”

Bradley felt like her words were the embodiment of her pointing at him and accusing him of all his wrongdoings. “I was thinking about my childhood, the photo was just a lot.”

Phoenix’s worried expression disappeared. “Sorry, I must’ve been the reason you were gone for so long, that day must’ve been a fun one, huh?” She lifted the photo up to his face again. “Look at you little roo-roo with a big ol’ grin on his face.” She had this teasing tone that sounded much like a tone that someone would use towards their dog.

Bradley hated it, she always did it because of his stern dad expression that would come across his face. “Can you just put it in the box and we can both forget this happened?”

Bradley felt as if he had his journal he would be stressing away about his failure to reach even Phoenix and Bob’s own expectations.

“Yeah, sorry. Should’ve given you some space before I even thought about teasing.” She waved it off laughing slightly.

Bradley had a small fake laugh as he went on to grab the rest of his father's things. “It’s alright, you were worried.”

After that the room fell silent aside from the small noises Goose’s things would make when placed inside the cardboard box. Soon, Bradley was left there when Phoenix decided to call it a day. He was sitting on the coach Maverick had out, his eyes on the taped up boxes resting in the open trunk of his Bronco.

His eyes felt sore and cracky, his hands grippy and rough. He was thinking again… thinking about his father. What would he have done if he had such a pain striking fear struck into his heart? Would he have conquered it already and had the same small grin Bradley had on his face when he was little or would he have.. never won over such a fear?

That’s the kind of questions Bradley used to ask his mother till her time to fade away in the air space of time. She would always try to give the best answers because of Maverick leaving them both, she couldn’t always find one that would please Bradley’s childish brain but it was enough to get by such a busy bee such as Bradley.

“What would you have done?” He asked the thin air, his breath grasping, his eyes drooping from exhaustion.

He would reach out and try to just feel something.. Anything at all. There was no one he could tell, no one’s expectations he could ruin. He knew he already met his father when he got accepted into the Navy, especially TopGun.

“I would go home and rest.”

Bradley flinched up and stared bug-eyed at Maverick, he wasn’t supposed to be here till eig- Bradley’s eyes flickered over to his watch, it was 8:30. Had he been sitting there for two hours? There was just no way, Phoenix hadn’t left that long ago and he swore that time was 6:30.

“Zoned out again?” Maverick knew his antics, the two hour zone out seemed to be one of the many things he started doing since the mission. It made Maverick ask him if he was struggling with PTSD from the crash.

Bradley wasn’t struggling with PTSD from the crash, he was struggling with the memories of his dead father. “Yeah, I was thinking of what to do with all my dad’s stuff.”

He lied, straight to his father figure’s face. He couldn’t break Maverick’s heart and tell him he was afraid, he had heard the rumors, the spread of ‘lies’ from the other pilots… nobody believed a single sound of those.

“Put it around your house is one thing,” Maverick sat down on the chair a couple feet away from the love seat. “Or put it with your mom’s stuff.”

“I’m sure mom would’ve wanted me to put the photos of him everywhere, she left them to you after all.” Bradley wasn’t shocked that she left all of his father’s things in Maverick’s hands.

Bradley was off at college after his first rejection letter hit the fan, he didn’t have time to see his mother as much. He did remember the last visit he had though, he was wearing his worn work clothes when he stopped by. Her eyes were still filled with love and life, her smile brighter than the stars.

She reached out

Her hand small and wrinkled in places,

Her eyes carrying small barely noticeable bags,

Bradley reached out

His hand gripping hers,

“You’re going to be okay.”

Bradley cried in her arms that last night, the first time he broke down was in her arms. He couldn’t carry the weight of her death and everyone else’s hopes on his teenage shoulders, he shattered and then there was Maverick sitting there mere-feet away speaking of her like a distant memory.

“Do you think she would want the photos of your dad in the house?” He asked.

Bradley was quiet as he thought, “I.. would have to find some spots to put them, I believe she would’ve wanted them around the house before she got ill.” Maverick nodded standing up from the chair, heading over to his camper.

“I would head home before it gets too dark,” He threw his keys to him, “Snatched those while you weren’t looking.”

“Very funny, Mav.” Bradley gave him a tired smile before waving one last goodbye.

The brunette was right, he did need to get home. He needed to work on some things before him and the rest of the dagger squad got transferred again. He pushed his trunk back into the locked position and pulled himself up in the driver's seat.

He took one last glance at the few photos he left up on the wall of Maverick’s things, there was the photo of him and Maverick looking at each other with victory spread across their sweaty faces and sparkling eyes. For once in his life, Bradley didn’t feel afraid of the water they flew above, he felt right at home.

His greatest enemy was his best ally in that moment and Bradley wanted nothing more but to feel that freedom again.

Freedom from a burden.

—

The second time Bradley attempted to conquer his fear it was when he was fifteen. He dragged his feet in the grimy sand, his eyes staring at the water with a sort of bravery he could never grasp in his late thirties like he did that one night.

Every moment was written out in detail in his rusty journal, the amount of steps it took till the water dragged him underneath it’s grasp, the feeling of his lungs tightening when he went under. He got out as quick as he stepped in, he couldn’t do it.

It felt like he was drowning on air when he stepped out, his lungs pulsing, his fingers flinching, his body shifting left to right in a daze. He was trying to step back towards the rental they had in Cali. He was struggling to breathe, it hurt to even do something that he barely thought of out of his whole life.

He thought he would’ve never passed out in the sand, but he did. He fell flat on the crisp sand of the beach only to be found by his mother when she got back to work. When he was asked what happened he gave her the white lie of not remembering even when he knew everything crystal clear in his mind.

That’s when he took the journal he normally used to talk about his life and opened up a page that would change his life forever, page 50, the page Maverick would read over and over again.

He was once so worried about expectations, the dreams that haunted him of the dark figures of people he called his friends. They always gave him a glare of hatred, the whispering filling his already clouded head.

There was one page that went over this dream that always repeated once a month, it was of his dad looking down at him and telling him he wasn’t good enough, he didn’t reach where he wanted Bradley to be. He woke up in tears that night, he had to conquer this fear- either that or he was going to drown in his mental stronghold.

“The ocean took him from you.”

He didn’t cry, he just looked at her differently, his eyes growing cold till she fell ill, till she turned sweet and apologized for treating him that way. Bradley couldn’t accept it till he trusted the water again. Till he could go out to the water without shattering his friend’s glasses to bits.

Without his lungs filling with air and feeling like his chest was going to explode.

Without the expectations pointing and laughing around him in a taunting circle.

He was the reason the Bradshaw name was going to die if he didn’t win over this fear. He would beg and plead with it everyday, it always brought a new loss, the loss of being able to even stare at water, all he could think about is what he overheard Maverick and Carole once speak about when he was younger.

“I couldn’t let him go, he’s just too valuable.”

Bradley could picture the accident, his dead father in Maverick’s arms while the brunette cried out his name. He had heard the incident every time he joined a new squad.

“You’re Goose’s kid right?”

“You two both share the name, Bradshaw!”

“And Maverick was there when his old man-”

The amount of times his fist had hit another pilot's face would be one and it was a guy he barely remembered, he just had it coming, he mentioned his past too much. Picked at Bradley like a dead bird used for dissection. He got fed up and snapped like a twig.

He was soon transferred.

That’s when he met Hangman.

Through Hangman he met Phoenix and she’s the closest he’ll let anyone get to him, Bob was at about the same arm’s length. They both were people that he could trust, both people that kept their mouths shut even with how much they wanted to spill every secret Bradley had behind his failing heart.

Bob knew some things Phoenix didn’t and Phoenix was the same way, even though they worked together they kept his private things to themselves and only shared when they both knew it was safe to.

Hangman wasn’t a person that Bradley would be open with, his tough stature and demeanor threw Bradley off, he wasn’t a man that could hold a single thing behind his texan tongue, he would spill it much like dynamite and light his hopes and dreams up with a toothpick of a match.

Though they were more rivals than anything, they looked at each other with their eyes ablaze with competition. If Bradley were to share his weakness was the ocean, Hangman would use every lick of that information to use against him. Even with Bradley being taller than the accented blonde, he still felt underneath him.

He felt like there was more to life than just being an asshole that knew how to fly, but maybe Bradley was wrong. Maybe, the life that Hangman lived was something Bradley needed to look at or not since Phoenix and Bob hated his guts with a burning passion only a Phoenix bird could withhold, he didn’t want to leave his only friends in the dust either.

He was at home but there was a person tapping on his shoulder at every waking moment reminding him of what happened to his father, the haunting fear of water that remained as a figure that walked with each step he took. He wore it like a necklace, it wouldn’t leave unless he took it by the throat himself and he was too afraid to make such a commitment.

Instead of mourning his mother, he was terrorized by her face when she used to tell him all about the ocean and how his father died with a small smile on her face. It wasn’t that she was happy he was gone, just the memory of him brought a weak smile on her face, she was blessed with this cursed smile that appeared even when speaking of his worse moments.

Bradley could remember the moments his father would pick him up above the crowds, he could see the world from his father’s shoulders.

He was safe in sound in those bear-like hands of his.

Bradley was still stuck in that moment, looking up at his father like an idol. He could remember the summer sun and how hot it felt to be pelted upon by it, the slashing waves, his mom laughing at his father’s jokes that made her smile like no tomorrow.

He wanted those fearless days back.

#bradley bradshaw #robert bob floyd #natasha phoenix trace #the three mustache-teers #pete maverick mitchell #nick goose bradshaw #carole bradshaw #angst #heart break #honestly #get some water and tissues #tgm #top gun #top gun maverick #kloofwriting

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