𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 | A Top Gun Fanfiction

Chapter 6: 𝘙𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘙𝘐𝘖

 You wouldn't have thought there were so many people in that auditorium, but there are. As soon as Viper dismissed us to the changing rooms, I shot out of my seat and made a beeline for the exit. Maverick and Goose hurried after me, shouting my call sign and trying to wade through the knot of students. I turn a deaf ear to their pleas and focus on taking fast steps. It's all I can do too keep myself together. I know that if I shatter now, I'm throwing away my shot at ever flying for Top Gun. Not that my chances are shaping out anyways. I'm not a pilot anymore. Not to Top Gun's superiors and commanders. I'm just a RIO. I'm in the back seat. I'm reading radars and going along for the ride.

There's nothing wrong with being a RIO, that's not my issue.

It's deeper than that.

I'm a pilot. I've only trained to be a pilot! My skills as a RIO are just about as underdeveloped as my ability to dance like Jagger. I can't dance at all, for the life of me, so do the math.

You'll be alright, a quiet voice hums in my ear, louder than the clamor of aviators mulling around me. The rhythm of feet on the tile floor, the echo of loud voices bouncing off the tight space of the hallway, it's all background noise. It fades. Declining rapidly into a distant buzz. I can hardly hear my own breathing, but I can feel the rise and fall of my chest in a panicked pace. Her voice in my head sounds so impossibly close. Like a physical, living, breathing person whispering into my ear.

You'll be a good RIO, she says.

No! I can't be. I am NOT a RIO! I close my eyes, trusting my feet to lead me through the crowd as I scream into the caverns of my mind, YOU'RE MY RIO AND I CAN'T REPLACE YOU! I won't replace you-

"Stirrups! Stirrups!"

Oh no, I start to speed walk down the hall, it's Charlie.

"STIRRUPS!" She yells.

I continue to ignore her, desperately trying to meld into the group of guys around me. So much for that. They keep breaking away, forming little 'clicks' and shooting me weird looks. It's like I'm an infectious disease and they're slinking away from me. Usually, I'd be glad. I'd smirk and skip along, relishing the unease I'm inciting, but right now I'm just angry. Mad that my fellow aviators are rejecting me. Mad that they can't meet my gaze, only look away or look lower than appropriate. I hang back and let them move in a disgusting mass of bodies down the hall. My feet begin to drag, coming to a halt in the middle of the hall. Alone. Small.

I feel Charlie approach me from behind. She's quiet, like she's waiting for me to turn around. To ask her the million questions running rampant in my head. Jokes on her, I think bitterly. I'll be damned if I'm going to just let this go. She's betrayed me! She's shoved me into second best. I came here, leaving behind everything I knew, everything and everyone I loved for a chance. To get me and her into that plane. To fly us both again. I was going to recover. Even as great as the fear to be back in the cockpit was and is, I knew I needed to conquer it. For her.

And for me.

So I could feel that rush.

A rush far sweeter than a car chase can or a smile can give.

I was supposed to fly again, not have someone else fly me.

Especially not some guy.

"Stirrups -"

"NO!" I can't help it. I lash out and whip around, surprised to see not only Charlie, but Maverick and Goose as well. All three of them flinch at my outburst. "Don't talk to me like that."