Below The Hard Deck | A Top Gun Fanfiction

CHAPTER XIV

Funerals are never easy and, quite frankly, I've been to far too many in my life. You'd think since I've been through this with Valkyrie, Goose, and even my own son, that I'd be numb to the process by now. Ice's death is different though. He was a man who seemed to hold the world in the palm of his hand, like everything was his for the taking. It's hard to get it through my head that he's really gone.

Cyclone canceled training for the day to allow everyone to attend the funeral, a move that I know would've made Ice crazy. Even after he was given just a few more days on this Earth, he refused to stop working. He lived and breathed for the Navy. I guess that's why it's only fair to put it on hold to honor him.

I stand between Specs and Maverick as we watch the flag that was draped over Ice's coffin be carefully folded. With each crease, the later's grip on my hand becomes a bit tighter. Further on down the line, all of the recruits stand clad in their dress uniforms. Every once in a while, I manage to catch a glimpse of Bradley. Though his face remains blank, I can see the emotion in his eyes. Ice wasn't as big a figure in his life as Pete used to be, but he still played a substantial role in his unconventional family. It was him, in fact, that got Rooster his second chance in the academy after the incident with his papers.

After the flag is handed over to Sarah, Mav is called up to the casket. He gently squeezes my hand, swallowing his emotions to the best of his ability, and walks over to his friend's final resting place. Removing the wings from his uniform, he gently places them onto the polished wood. With a bang similar to that of a final gun shot, he slams the golden medallion into the hard surface. While one is usually supposed to just salute and join everyone back in position, Maverick pauses for a moment. It is quick, barely noticeable if you didn't know what to look for, but to me it speaks volumes. As his thumb runs over the shiny metal, I see his lips move ever so slightly. Thank you. His final goodbye.

My heart breaks as he finally raises his hand to his forehead, water brimming his eyes despite how he desperately tries to push it down. Mav and I soon switch positions, his hand ever so slightly brushing my own as we past each other. With a shaky grip, I remove my own pair if wings, carefully placing them beside my partner's. My eyes find Ice's picture balanced carefully on a easel. "Say hello to Nicholas for me and Mav." My gaze moves to the clear sky above. "Goose, Valkyrie," I swallow down my tears, trying to hold together some level of professionalism, "take care of him." After a final deep breath, I slam my fist into the hardwood.

One by one, all the naval aviators in attendance say their goodbyes, covering the dark oak in a layer of metallic shine. Every time I thought there'd be no more space, another person would find some place to squeeze in their pin. When it's Bradley's turn, I notice his hesitation to even approach the casket, a far off look in his eyes. Phoenix whispers something to him once he gets back in line, concern evident on her face, but he just shakes his head and keeps his line of sight firmly on the ground.

The rest of the ceremony blends together. Despite the honors shown through the missing man formation, "Taps" being played, and the gun salute, it doesn't feel like enough to encompass just what Ice meant to so many people. I don't know if there is a military honor that could. It would need to stretch beyond just his service to his country. Admiral may have been his title, but he was so much more than that. He was a husband, a father, a friend.

Everyone is invited into the nearby reception hall for a celebration of life. The tears from before are slowly replaced with laughter as pilots exchange stories about Ice's various escapades. Though the melancholy atmosphere still remains, it has significantly diminished, more so becoming one of nostalgia instead of one of grief. It's how Iceman would want to be remembered; not for his death, but for the life he lived.

As I look around the room, I spot the recruits scattered about. Bob and Phoenix are engrossed in a conversation with Harvard and Yale, Payback and Fanboy are taking full advantage of the hors d'oeuvres being served as they chat with my old RIO, and Hangman seems to have stowed away his ego for the time being as he interacts with a retired admiral. Throughout the crowd, however, there is one person missing.