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It was pretty early in the afternoon. In fact, it was before opening, but Penny had opened The Hard Deck a little early for the Dagger squad, as they’d like to call themselves now. It’s been a couple of days since they'd come back from the mission they barely survived. They were a ragtag group of pilots forced to work together in a short amount of time, but the shared experience of possible death bonded them together like nothing else. Especially since, as this was a top secret detachment, they couldn’t share this with anyone else except with people who flew with them.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, the Navy had not planned on this mission succeeding so well. They knew the Navy planned on at least one of them not making it out alive if they took into consideration Cyclone’s revised plan when he was trying to take over Maverick.
If they had an instructor other than Maverick, they were certain that the mission would have gone very differently.
It wasn’t spoken out loud, but they knew. They knew that they were sacrificial, that the Navy would sacrifice them for the mission, for the greater good. That’s what they signed up for, that’s what it took to be in service to your country.
They knew they would be shipped back to their original squadrons after this mission, but the Navy was still working on details for that. They had at least another week or two before they would hear about that since this detachment was supposed to be for three weeks, not two. With the timeline moved up, and the mission an unexpected success, the Navy was probably scrambling to get the logistics of their return in order.
So for now, the Dagger squad stayed together to enjoy their week of peace. The Hard Deck was now their hangout of choice, and Penny graciously let them use it whenever they liked. Even told them that drinks were on the house for that week, since they had just saved Maverick’s life.
The Hard Deck was quieter when there were no other patrons. But trust Payback and Fanboy to always make it a lively afternoon. Rooster personally appreciated that a lot because it got his mind off what happened.
Rooster had just been discharged from the hospital the day before, having been kept in observation after he had ejected from his plane. It was standard operating procedure but it still bothered Rooster. He’s always hated hospitals.
When he was a kid, he lost his dad. But he was too young to remember really. His mom, on the other hand… The cancer she had was slow growing so Rooster spent a long time going with her to the hospital. He hated it. He hated the feel of it, the smell of it, everything. Because it reminded him of his mom’s suffering. She always had a smile on her face, no matter what, trying to be strong for Rooster, but he knew that she was putting on a brave face.
She tried to push him off, to let him spend more time with Maverick. But Rooster stubbornly stayed to care for her. As much as he hated to see her suffer, he hated the idea of her suffering alone more.
So Rooster grew up in San Diego, in the home his mom and dad owned. But he was mostly alone. His mom was too sick to care for him. Maverick did try to come by and visit as often as he could whenever he was state side. So it felt like he was half living in the home, and half in the hospital. So you couldn’t really fault him for hating hospitals.
He was glad he was not injured as badly, and that everything was routine. He would have hated it if he had to stay longer in the hospital.
Having finished a round of pool, winning over Famboy of course, Rooster nursed his half empty bottle of beer. He sat by the window, stepping away from the boisterous squad. He peered out of the window and saw Penny and some delivery workers wrestling with a weather vane. He heard Penny mention adding a weather vane to the roof of The Hard Deck a couple days ago.
Hangman, who had been missing from the game of pool earlier, was suddenly beside Penny, helping her and the workers out with the weather vane. Rooster would have helped if he wasn’t still on strict orders from the doctor to not lift anything heavier than a couple of pounds. As much as he hated it, he had to take it easy for a while.
Rooster looked on as Hangman, Penny, and the delivery workers worked on the weather vane. He couldn’t help the smile forming on his lips, as he remembered a memory from his childhood.
**
The home felt empty without his mom there. So when he was not visiting her at the hospital, he would usually bike around town. Biking was the closest thing he could get to the speed of his uncle Maverick’s motorbike. And he knew his dad and uncle flew so much faster than that, and he wanted to be like them.
So he biked and he biked, trying to get as fast as he could. His destination was usually of no concern to him, he just wanted to feel the wind in his face because this was the closest he could get to his uncle and his dad when Maverick was not around.
It wasn’t uncommon for him to end up in places he’s never been.
It was very uncommon for him to see a kid getting beat up though.
He had just turned the corner off an old farm. He’d passed by here a couple of times before. He remembered it because it had a large weather vane perched on its roof. He remembered it because it was painted bright green instead of the usual black, and it was very eye catching.
Bradley sped up as fast as he could, biked as hard as he could, and jumped off his bike to get in between the kids fighting. Now that he was closer, he could see that the kids were younger than he was, maybe a couple of years? But the one kid they were targeting, the one they had pushed to the ground, was a lot shorter than they were. None of them had their growth spurt yet, but the kid they were bullying was definitely the shortest one there.
But Bradley was tall for his age. He was thin, but he had long arms and legs. So he could tower over these kids.
“Hey, stop that,” he growled at them, using his body to stand in between the bullies and the kid.
In retrospect, he was outnumbered. But the bullies were too young to know that really. They just saw him as an older kid. So they turned tail and ran, leaving Bradley with the younger kid.
“Thanks,” the kid murmured behind him.
Bradley turned around and smiled at him. “You alright there kid?” he asked.
The younger blond nodded and used his hands to dust the dirt off his shorts.
“Haven’t seen you around here,” Bradley said. “You new here?”
The kid nodded. “Just moved,” he confirmed. He got up and looked up at Bradley.
Bradley noted the Southern accent and nodded. “Sorry those kids were jerks to you. They moved here not so long ago either. A lot of people come and go because of the Navy base near here,” he said.
The kid looked up at him, blue eyes suddenly bright with curiosity. “I heard about a navy base close by!” he said, rather excited.
“My dad … uncle is a pilot,” Bradley said. Quickly correcting himself. As much as he saw his uncle Mav as his second dad, he wasn’t. And he didn’t want to lie to the kid. But he also kind of wanted to brag, after all, Maverick was pretty cool.
“That’s so cool!” The kid’s eyes definitely had a sparkle in them. “A navy pilot. Must be so cool! Will you be a pilot someday too?”
Bradley nodded and puffed out his chest. “Of course! Gonna be so fast.”
“As fast as a bird?”
Bradley nodded. What was his dad’s call sign again? Goose. “My dad’s callsign was Goose,” he said proudly. “He was the backseater, but he still flew so fast. He flew with my uncle!”
“Goose,” the kid said slowly, eyes sparkling even more. “That. is. So. Cool.”
Bradley appreciated the kid fawning over him. Was this how Maverick felt? Because it was awesome and he liked it.
“What’s your callsign gonna be?”
Bradley blinked and looked at the kid. “Mine?”
“Yeah! When you get to become a navy pilot!”
Bradley blinked again and shook his head. “I…I never thought about that before.”
That was true. He had dreamt of flying like his dad, like his uncle, but he never thought about it any farther than that. A call sign huh? What would be cool? There’s so many… Comet, Cheetah, Eagle, so many choices. He didn’t know where to start.
“What about that one?” the kid asked and snapped Bradley out of his thoughts. The kid had raised his arm up and pointed up towards the weather vane high up on the roof of the farm house.
“Rooster?” Bradley asked, eyebrow raised.
The kid nodded. “Yeah! It’s up there so high! Like you would be if you’re in a plane!” he said excitedly.
Bradley chuckled. It wasn’t that high up. But for the kid’s height, maybe it was.
“Rooster it is then,” Bradley laughed.
The kid grinned a toothy grin, some of his baby front teeth missing. He saluted, wrong in so many ways, but adorable because of his enthusiasm. “Sir Rooster sir!” he said and Bradley had to laugh.
“Rooster, reporting for duty.”
**
Rooster chuckled at the memory. He stepped out of The Hard Deck and watched as the delivery guys hoisted the weather vane up to the ceiling and started to put it in place. Penny had gone back into the bar. So that left only Hangman outside.
He walked towards where Hangman was seated and placed a new bottle of beer in front of him. “Thought you’d need a new bottle,” he said.
Hangman had been staring at the weather vane, seemingly lost in thought, and started when he heard Rooster’s voice. “Jesus, don’t sneak up on a guy like that,” he said, taking him a full moment to get his signature Hangman smirk on his lips. “Such a stealth pilot.”
“Not really, wasn’t really being stealthy Hangman,” Rooster chuckled as he sat down at the same table, seat across Hangman’s. “You were just distracted.”
Hangman shrugged and took the bottle anyway. “Thanks for the beer,” he said, lifting it up a bit and tilting towards Rooster just slightly.
Rooster took the invitation and clinked his bottle to Hangman’s.
It was nice like this. As much as he enjoyed bantering with Hangman, and as much as he enjoyed the rivalry, it was nice to just have a quiet moment with him sometimes. Those moments were really rare. Since the mission though, he’s noticed that Hangman has been quieter than usual. He chalked it up to him dealing with the mission. Maybe the glitz and glamor of having two air to air kills was making him more pensive? That was unlike him, but what does Rooster know? He wasn’t gonna complain though, he rather liked this side of Hangman too.
“Here to see the new weather vane too huh?” Rooster asked as he followed Hangman’s gaze to look at the workers on the roof.
“Uh huh,” Hangman replied.
“Remind you of home?” Rooster asked.
Hangman shrugged. “Yes and no.”
Rooster raised an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”
Hangman chuckled and shook his head. “It’s a stupid story.”
“You saved me and Mav from certain death Hangman, there’s no story of yours I’d find stupid.”
Hangman turned to look at Rooster again, eyes dancing with mirth. “I am never gonnaget tired of being deemed your savior, Bradshaw.”
Rooster rolled his eyes. “I should stop reminding you then, your ego is inflated as it is,” he said fondly, no heat, no bite in his words. “Besides, no shame in saying that things remind you of home.”
“It’s not…” Hangman paused as if internally deciding if he should change the subject or just speak honestly. He took another drink from his beer bottle and resumed, “It doesn’t remind me of home. It reminds me of a home, not of home,” he said slowly. “Moved around a lot, navy family you know?”
Hangman turned away from Rooster and looked back up to the weather vane. “I was a kid with a big mouth, always getting into fights.”
“That part didn’t change.”
“Shut it Bradshaw.”
Again, no bite in their words. It was nice like this.
“As I was saying,” Hangman continued. “Always moved around. I don’t actually remember all the places my family moved to. Sometimes they’d be stationed on a base for a couple of months, and before I knew it it was time to move again. So I never really bothered with making friends. But there was this one time, one thing that I remember really clearly. That was the day I decided I would become a pilot,” Hangman said.
Rooster noted a fond look in the other man’s eyes as he continued, “I don’t remember much of where we move to. But I remember San Diego was a good place. It was the place where I decided I’d be a Navy pilot someday. Look, I don’t remember much, I was too young, but I remembered this kid, bigger kid than I was ok? I just remember him getting in between me and my bullies, and he said he was gonna be a pilot. So I thought I’d become one too. Maybe I could be as cool as he was.” Hangman raised his bottle to the weather vane, now attached and sitting on The Hard Deck’s Roof. “I don’t even remember his face, but I remember that he could fly as high as that bird on the weather vane. Maybe fly as high as his dad…. Callsign was “Swan” I think?” Hangman frowned. “No… not Swan. Eagle. Falcon? Wait no that’s not right either…Fuck, I don’t even remember. Told you it was gonna be a stupid story,” Hangman ended, running his hand through his golden locks.
Rooster sat there in shock as Hangman told his story. As Hangman spoke, the more Rooster felt his blood run cold. It was so similar, but it can’t be right? The universe doesn’t do coincidences like this does it?
Hangman looked up at Rooster and laughed. “Man… you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Story’s bad huh? I mean you don’t need to believe me. I’m not even sure any of it is accurate. Was a kid ok?”
“Goose,” Rooster choked out, his eyes fixed on Hangman’s.
“What?” Hangman asked in between his self deprecating laughter.
Rooster swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “Goose. My dad’s callsign… was Goose.”
Hangman’s laughter slowly died down and he blinked at Rooster. “What?” he asked again, voice breaking a little.
Rooster closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He swallowed another lump in his throat and then looked up at Hangman again. “My dad’s callsign was Goose,” he said slowly, gauging Hangman’s reaction. “And the day I decided on my call sign was the day I saved this kid, this kid who pointed up at the weather vane, and told me that my call sign should be….”
“Rooster.”
Hangman finished that sentence for him. His eyes had gone wide, and his lips agape like a goldfish. Rooster would tease him for it if only he wasn’t also as shocked as the other pilot.
“That was YOU?!”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“How the … how the fuck…. Wait no, don’t answer that,” Hangman muttered as he looked away and ran his hand across his face. His cheeks darkened with a light pink flush.
Rooster was trying to keep himself together too. That was such a core memory for him, the moment he knew definitely that he wanted to be a pilot. He didn’t know what to say.
He decided on, “You got big.”
Hangman jerked his head towards him, so quick, Rooster was afraid he was going to get whiplash. His cheeks were definitely pink now. “Sh…shut up, Bradshaw,” he stammered.
Rooster smiled and reached out to squeeze Hangman’s shoulder. “Sorry, didn’t mean to tease. Rooster’s a stupid name, but that was the callsign I got from my first fan so I had no other option.”
“Shut up…not a fan,” Hangman muttered.
“If it makes you feel a little better, I decided to become a navy pilot that day too, coz of you.”
Hangman cautiously looked at Rooster. “You did? But your old man…and your uncle, fuck you were talking about Maverick weren’t you?”
“And Ice,” Rooster confirmed. “My dad had just passed a couple of years back. I knew my uncles were cool as hell and I liked the speed a lot. But to actually have someone believe in you? That was irreplaceable man. You were a total stranger, but you looked at me with those wide blue eyes and ….” Rooster looked at Hangman and smiled. “Yeah, I thought to myself that this was cool. Being a pilot was cool. I wasn’t gonna disappoint this kid so I was gonna try to become the best fucking pilot I could be.”
Hangman took another drink from his beer bottle, downing it all in one go. “We’ve been circling each other since back then huh? We were kids back then, fuck.”
“And stupid,” Rooster agreed. “We didn’t even ask each other’s name back then, how stupid was that?”
“We were stupid,” Hangman shrugged. He then turned towards Rooster and with a toothy grin on his face, raised his hand up to a mock salute. “Sir Rooster sir!”
Rooster laughed. “You were missing a couple of teeth back then Seresin.”
Hangman laughed with him. “You’re supposed to be responding to that Bradshaw.”
“Rooster, reporting for duty.”