𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 | A Top Gun Fanfiction

Chapter 21: 𝘏𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘧𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵-𝘵𝘰-𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴

"Are you willing to crash again?"

Definitely not. So? What am I to do about it? Well, I start by opening up to Maverick more. Sometimes even Goose. They're both great listeners, and perfect entertainers for after the load has been shared. Together we work on my problem like a group of guys might fix up an old car. When I fly with different instructors and stand-ins over the next week and a half, I make flying my focus. If we dive, if we hit some turbulence, I grip the radar and I study it so hard my eyes go crossed. I rattle my mouth to anyone who listens to keep my head in the game. It pisses the heck outta Ice and Slider but when I'm flying with my boys, they know exactly where I'm at and encourage me.

Communication.

Just like Charlie and Cougar advised.

Maverick says it's hard work.

Goose says it's a miracle.

I say it's a little bit of both.

Because I haven't had an episode in five days.

Yep. Five whole days of flying without a single 'hiccup.' So blinding flashes, no headaches, not a single moment where I couldn't breathe or respond to my pilot. Nope. Not one episode. Vixen is always there throughout the flight, showering me with praise and encouragement, and although it certainly helps me feel supported as I war against fear, it's Maverick and Goose that make me feel like I've won the Olympics each time I touch down. Whether they meet me on the runway or outside the locker rooms, the effect is always the same. They run at me, eyes wide, silently asking, "Did you relapse?" To which I proudly reply with a firm shake of my head and am rewarded with the biggest group hug the world has ever known. They nearly took me down once. Both their big old bodies rammed into me and I tripped into the jet laughing.

Slider and Iceman passed us by.

"Get a room," Slider sneered.

Goose nearly wholloped him.

Ever since I kissed him on the cheek he's always calling me out for flirting with a married man, but if someone else dares insinuate the same, he's ready to tear their head off.

Not that I'd mind.

Especially with Slider and Wolfman always trying to 'hint, hint' at me and Maverick in public. At least Iceman has the discipline to keep his trap shut.

At the bar, Maverick will just barely touch my hand and somewhere Slider will vomit an entire pint of beer, as Goose puts it. The constant ribbing can be tiring, but that's the least of my worries. I'm actually glad to say it's the only stormy cloud in my sunny-sky-life. Things are looking up. I'm conquering my fear, I'm having the best time with my boyfriend, and it feels like everyday I spent hours with the Bradshaws. We've practically lived out of the bar, sometimes inviting Charlie. I'm teaching Bradley how to dance and his daddy is letting him figure out the piano. There's lots of belting oldies when we crash the bar. Carol and I will sit back while Maverick and Goose serenade us, acting like total idiots, occasionally sloshed as all get out while Rooster is perched on Goose's knee, oblivious. Carol and I are getting along better now that the cat's out of the bag.

Yeah, Goose told her about me and Maverick.

Her reaction was priceless.

Goose – God bless him – waited to tell her when we were all having a barbeque at their place.

I was being silly with Rooster, pretending to fly him around the yard, and Goose waves his tongs around and shouts, "Mav keep your girlfriend under control, will ya!"