Chapter Twelve

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✵ Chapter Twelve ~ Worries ✵

"Sir, I-" (Y/n) stood up, objecting, though Maverick stopped her.

"A new backseater has already been chosen." He cut her off, his face hardening, "You will fly solo."

(Y/n) clenched her jaw, "Sir, with all due respect, I think this is the wrong course of action."

Maverick raised an eyebrow, "Don't think I don't know about you and Phoenix."

(Y/n) froze, "What?"

"You know the rule, partners may not fly together." His face hardened, "It could interfere with the mission."

(Y/n) didn't respond for a moment, before she stepped closer to the desk Maverick was sitting behind, "You have no right to talk about that, Maverick."

Maverick could tell (Y/n) was talking to him as a friend, not a subordinate.

"I do, Circe, this mission could very well end up in one of you dying-"

"I wouldn't let that happen." (Y/n) cut him off, though she started to second guess herself, "Well...I wouldn't let her die." (Y/n) specified, clearing her throat awkwardly.

He clenched his jaw before saying, "-I don't think you're ready either." He finished, after being interrupted.

(Y/n) clenched her own jaw, "Ready for what?" Though she asked, she almost didn't want to know the answer.

"Ready to do what's needed, without your emotions getting in the way." He stood up too, the sound of his chair moving back, with his abrupt movement, sounding, "You aren't ready, and neither is Rooster."

(Y/n) let a scowl come onto her face, "So you're washing me out?"

Maverick looked away, for a moment, before looking her in the eyes, "No, but you are on thin ice."

(Y/n) gulped back any profanities that were about to come flying out of her mouth, choosing to just salute.

"Then I will be taking my leave-" She scowled, "-captain." She spat, turning to leave, though the door opened, revealing the two-star Admiral.

The Admiral had his eyebrows furrowed, a worried look on his face.

He looked between Maverick and (Y/n), before settling on Maverick, a sympathetic look replacing his worried one.

"Maverick..."

(Y/n) saluted, along with all the other officers at her sides, the sound of trumpets prominent.

Another officer carefully folded an American flag, handing it to Iceman's wife, the flag having just been laid over his casket.

The sound of guns going off sounded, to show respect and thanks to Iceman's service.

(Y/n) watched as Maverick walked over to the casket, taking off his wings, and setting them down on Iceman's casket.

Right as a second shot went off, Maverick slammed his closed fist on the wings, the wing's pins being forced into the wood of the casket. Maverick then saluted, his eyes red, holding back tears.

(Y/n) looked to the photo of Iceman that was chosen, her face staying firm.

At that, they started lowering the casket, four jets up above flying over, one flying higher than the others.

"Yeah, I know." (Y/n) sat down on her bed, taking her blue's hat off.

Natasha stood in front of her, an angered and confused look on her face.

"He's trying to wash you out?" She repeated, a tone of disbelief in her tone. "And I was given a new backseater?"

(Y/n) just shrugged, "Apparently." She muttered, looking down and observing her hat, it was pristine and white, no stains on it.

"That's some bullshit." Phoenix walked over, sitting down next to her, taking off her own hat.

"And our mission is coming up, fast." (Y/n) ran a stressed hand through her hair, "None of us have flown the course correctly or destroyed the target."

Natasha didn't say anything, (Y/n) continuing.

"This is fucked." She muttered, "He is sending us to our deaths."

Natasha didn't respond, again, choosing to just focus on the female next to her.

Natasha sighed, not sure what to say to make (Y/n) feel better, instead leaning over and planting a sweet kiss on (Y/n)'s cheek.

She stayed there for a moment, before pulling away, (Y/n)'s deep frown slowly becoming a small smile.

(Y/n) sighed, leaning forward and setting down her hat on her dresser, before leaning over and pulling Natasha into a side hug.

Natasha set her hat down next to her, leaning into the hug, letting a small smile of her own come onto her face.

(Y/n) felt a lump in her throat appear, feeling her eyes sting.

She took in Natasha's presence, the smell of her vanilla perfume, the warmth of her skin, to the way her eyes glimmered in the minimal lighting.

(Y/n) sighed, before speaking up.

"Someone isn't coming back from this." She muttered, Natasha, sighing heavily, nodding her head.

"I know." She answered, (Y/n)'s hug getting just a smidge tighter.

"I don't-" Her voice broke, despite her best efforts to prevent it, "-want to lose you."

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows, sighing heavily.

"You know it's a hazard of our job, one we both accepted when we joined." Natasha reminded, (Y/n) shaking her head.

"I know." She whispered, biting her lip as she tried to stay somewhat composed, thinking back to earlier that day, "But, I don't want to be the one saluting, when you aren't by my side."

The words were hard to hear, Natasha wincing.

"It's nothing." (Y/n) brushed aside, pulling back from the side hug, kissing Natasha on the forehead as she did, "Let's get to bed."

Natasha didn't say anything, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

(Y/n) got up from her spot on the bed, about to go to the bathroom to get ready for bed. That's when she felt a hand grab her wrist, (Y/n) looking back, a confused look on her face.

"Just don't do anything stupid." She warned, (Y/n) chuckling, turning back around, bending down to be eye level with Natasha, who was sitting.

(Y/n) could tell she was being serious, though no matter how angry or serious Natasha looked, (Y/n) just admired her beauty.

(Y/n) just smiled, looking into Natasha's brown eyes, nothing but admiration to be found in (Y/n)'s (e/c) eyes.

(Y/n) then pulled her into a loving kiss, it being gentle and soft, (Y/n) enjoying the feeling of her soft lips being on her own.

She rested a hand on Natasha's thigh to stable herself.

Natasha reciprocated the kiss, grabbing (Y/n)'s hand, which was on her thigh, gently. (Y/n) held her hand back, before pulling away.

As (Y/n) pulled away, a loving smile was on her face, squeezing Natasha's hand reassuringly.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

✵ The End of Chapter Twelve ✵

𝗠𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸

𝚃𝚢𝚙𝚎: 𝗣𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗰 (C̷o̷r̷r̷u̷p̷t̷ ̷D̷a̷t̷a̷)

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎: 𝟮𝟱%

𝘿𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙

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