Chapter Text
He had only been back in his temporary housing for a day before he heard a knock on the door. It took him longer than he'd like to admit to get to it with his still healing ribs and ankle, but eventually he made his way there. When he opened the door, he was not expecting the face that greeted him.
"Before you say anything," Hangman said in his usual drawl, "I brought a peace offering." He said holding up a sick pack of beers.
Rooster just squinted at him. "Fine." He said moving out of the way and gesturing Hangman inside.
Hangman took a few steps into his apartment and took off his sunglasses, clipping them to his undershirt. "Jesus, Bradshaw do you want me to get you in contact with my interior decorator? She can make your place look less... empty."
Rooster strode passed him and grabbed the six pack from his hands. "And here I thought this was a friendly gesture."
Hangman put his hands up in defense. "It is, scouts honor." He surveyed the place a little more. "Temporary housing?"
"Wouldn't be this bare if it wasn't."
"Where you living at then?" Hangman reached over and grabbed himself a beer, moving to the couch and flopping on it.
"I keep most of my stuff at my folks old place. It was paid off after my dad died and when my mom passed I didn't have it in me to sell it. I got a neighbor I pay to check up on it and I know Mav looks after some of the more complicated stuff."
"So you and Mav are like..." Hangman trailed off and gestured openly with his hands.
"Well," Rooster said sipping his beer and joining Hangman on the other end of the couch. "When my mom passed he became my legal guardian. He's my godfather. I called him 'Uncle Mav' growing up."
"You got a hell of a family legacy."
Rooster scoffed. "I wanted nothing to do with that family legacy."
"And now?"
Rooster just tilted his head at him. "Why are you here, Jake?"
Jake tried to give him a grin that he hoped conveyed innocence. "Can't a fellow aviator drop in to check on his injured colleague?"
"Not when it's you."
Hangman put his hand over his chest. "I'm hurt." He said sarcastically.
Rooster rolled his eyes. "You have spent the better part of a decade trying to rile me up at every turn. Hell, last week I nearly beat your ass."
Hangman held up his beer. "But you didn't."
"Because I had multiple people holding me back." He said exasperated.
"In all fairness and in the spirit of... comradery or whatever the hell this is," he hesitated, almost as if the words hurt him, "I suppose I was out of line for bringing up your old man like that."
"Very bold of you to admit." Rooster said even more exasperated.
"But I was right."
"There it is."
"No, listen." Hangman said sitting up. "I uh... I don't do this often."
"Do what?"
"Try to explain myself." He said honestly. "I know I don't have the best reputation. I know people think I'm a liability, that I don't care about my wingman."
"Is there a 'but' in there?"
Hangman scoffed. "I'm getting there, asshole." He set his beer down on the table and wringed his hands together. "I know I come across like a cocky son of a bitch," he admitted, "and the truth is I am very, very good at what I do." He looked at Rooster as if he expected him to say something but Rooster just sat silently. "When I was in high school, I was dating this girl." He continued. "When we finished school we were both going to go to college together and get married. Do the whole white picket fence, two and a half kids, and a dog thing. The American dream." He added almost aggressively.
He took another sip and set his beer down a little more forcefully than the last time. He brought his hand to his chin. "When we were coming home from senior prom, I was driving her back to her dad's and I ran a yellow a little too close to it being red. We got sidelined by a truck that wasn't paying attention. She died two nights later."
Rooster just stared at him. "I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything, just listen." Hangman took a deep breath. "After Becca died I dropped all the plans I had for my life. My home life sucked, so I applied to the Naval Academy. A buddy of mine was joining and helped me apply. Nothing can replace Becca, but the feeling of flying, the feeling of being in that plane, of speeding past everyone else," he grimaced, "it came pretty damn close. And with her gone the only thing I could focus on was being the best, being the absolute best pilot in the Navy. I stopped watching my wingman because all I cared about was me. I didn't want to lose someone else I cared about, so instead of being better I just stopped caring."
Rooster took a breath. "When my dad died," he started quietly, "it changed my whole world. I was little, yeah, but it was like that innocence was gone. I realized that anybody at any moment could be taken away from me. My mom did the best she could to protect me from it all, but at the end of the day I felt that it was my job to protect her. To make sure that no one's family has to go through I what I did. When I'm flying up there, that is the only thing that keeps me going. Making sure everyone comes home."
"That's very admirable, Roo but if you're busy looking out for everyone else who's going to look out for you?"
Rooster shrugged. "I do."
Hangman shook his head. "You can't have it both ways."
"Well then, better me than them." Rooster sees something on Hangman's face that he hasn't seen often. Genuine anger.
"And what gives you the right to think like that?"
Rooster looked at him confused. "What are you mad that I went back for Mav? That I jeopardized the mission? As I recall you went back too."
"Yeah I did. That doesn't mean it was the right call."
"Then why did you do it?"
"Because I care about you, you jackass!" Hangman practically yells. His face shifts into surprise. "Huh." He said as he leaned back. "I care about you and Phoenix and Coyote and hell I even care about Bob. I don't know what kind of magic Mav used but as much as I tried not too I just..." he shrugged. "When the call came over the radio that you and Mav were up there in an F-14 with three Bandits on your tail, there was suddenly no way in hell I was sitting there." He paused. "When I said all that about your dad, about how you need to fly like Mav. I wasn't trying to sound like an ass. I just didn't know how to get you to understand. I don't want any of my team not coming home, and the way you were flying made it almost a sure thing that you weren't going to."
"I'm learning how to stop thinking so much," Rooster admitted, "but if you're asking me to start flying like you, to leave the other guy behind then I-"
"That never came out of my mouth. I told you to fly like Mav." He corrected. "And if the mission the other day proves anything it's that you two have a lot more in common than I thought."
Rooster smiled and let out a laugh.
"What's so funny?"
Rooster shook his head. "If you told me a week ago that I would be sitting here having a heart to heart with Jake 'Hangman' Seresin I would have laughed in your face and called it bullshit."
Hangman shrugged. "I'm a man of many surprises." He took a sip and added, "plus you scared the shit out of me and Phoenix the other day."
Rooster cringed at the memory of Hangman and Phoenix practically carrying him to the mess hall after the celebration on the ship. Remembers their surprised faces at the extent of the injuries he had after the mission. Remembers how pale Hangman had gotten and how stern Phoenix was.
"Wasn't the worst I've had." He admitted.
"I'm sure it wasn't cowboy, but it was still bad. You can't be out there sacrificing yourself for everyone if you can't even take care of yourself."
"I can take care of myself."
"Oh yeah," Hangman said standing up, "if I walk over to your fridge right now what am I gonna find?"
"I just got back from Mav's!"
"Yesterday." Hangman said moving to his kitchen and starting to open his drawers. "What have you been eating with your medication?"
"What is going on right now? Are you mother henning me?"
"Ha!" Hangman said hoping that the sarcasm carried. "I get it, cause your name is Rooster. Remind me to write that down in my journal later."
"Seriously, Hangman." Rooster got up and slowly walked over to his kitchen. "I can take care of myself."
"No, no, little Roo. I can see you're in dire straits. You know, with one word I can call Phoenix and have her-"
"Please don't do that."
"Why not?" Hangman asked leaning up against the counter. " 'Fraid you'll get distracted making googly eyes at her like the last time she tried to help you."
Rooster would later adamantly deny the shade of red Hangman claimed he turned. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Please." Hangman said with a scoff. "You are so obviously into her it pains me. It's been obvious since Top Gun. Even Bob noticed it."
"He did not."
"He sure did, sweetheart." Hangman grabbed Rooster's keys from the counter. "You and I are going grocery shopping." He said heading for the door. "And if it makes you feel any better," he added, "she totally has the hots for you too."
And with that Hangman walked out the door leaving Rooster standing behind him and confused. Rooster heard the sound of his Jeep starting up and Hangman yelling at him from outside. "You coming or what, princess?"
Rooster just shook his head and wondered how his life had come to this as he shut the door behind him. He tilted his head upwards. "Like hell you're driving."
"You're injured." He shot back putting on his sunglasses.
"This is my car."
Hangman shrugged. "You shouldn't even be driving."
"Bullshit, I just drove to Mav's and back."
"Doctor's orders."
"Not my doctor's."
"Will you just shut up and get in the car?"
Rooster thought for a moment. "Only because you asked nicely."