Work Text:
“Eject! Eject!”
It was bright. Too bright. The fluorescent hospital lights burned, even through tightly closed eyelids. Everything smelt sterile. The sheets were too soft. The soft humming from the machines beside her and the distant chatter from the hallway and —
Phoenix forced herself to breathe, in and out. She opened her eyes. The walls were a pale blue, the paint peeling in one corner. The sheets were white. Stray beams of light flitted through the closed curtains beside her. The sun was setting.
She breathed in, and out. The too-soft sheets and the blue walls and the chatter from the hallway were all indications that she was alive. That she wasn’t stuck in that cockpit, helpless as they burned in.
Then why did she still feel like she was falling?
“I can’t control it!”
When the first engine had gone, she’d tried not to panic. They were trained for this, bird strikes weren’t uncommon, she knew what to do. The second engine, well, that posed more of a problem. But she was still under control.
And then they both blew. And then they were dead.
They weren’t dead, of course. She’d already established that; the sheets, the walls, the hallway. But it was a darned close thing. If it wasn’t for Maverick telling them to punch out, they wouldn’t be here.
She breathed in. And out.
She could’ve killed them.
“We’re on fire! We’re on fire!”
Bob was in the room next to hers. She wondered if the walls were blue, if the paint was peeling. If he could hear the chatter from the corridor. She hoped he knew she was there, too.
He was her WSO. Her responsibility. Her friend. If she couldn’t keep him safe, what was her use?
The panic in his voice as they’d spun echoed in her ears. She knew his voice as well as anyone’s, in the Hard Deck or through her radio. But that was more than fear. It was acceptance, acceptance that they weren’t making it out of this. Acceptance that they were going to die. She never wanted to hear that again.
Maybe if she’d been faster, better, if she’d —
“We’re going down, Phoenix! We’re going in! We’re going in!”
He’d told her, after the crash, that it wasn’t her fault. Really, Phoenix thought, it would’ve been easier if he had blamed her. Recognised her flaws. Not blaming her meant he trusted her, and today had proven that to be a mistake.
She couldn’t lose him.
She breathed in. And out.
“Phoenix, you can’t shake it! Eject! Eject!”
She wondered how long she’d been laying there. The light from the window was long gone. Her body ached. Adrenaline was a pretty good pain killer, but ejection was no joyride. She’d have bruises tomorrow.
But bruises were a reminder that she was still alive.
Bruises, blue walls, too-soft sheets. The corridor was quiet.
She breathed in. And out.
“Eject! Eject! Eject!”
She’d be fine tomorrow, she knew she would be. After all, a Phoenix only rises from the flames. And she would rise.
But tonight, she didn’t feel like a Phoenix. Tonight, alone in her blue-walled room, beneath too-soft sheets, she closed her eyes and smelt nothing but burning ash.