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"Dagger one is hit! I repeat: Dagger one is hit!"
"Maverick is down!"
"Dagger one: come in! Status!"
"I didn't see a parachute,"
"Dagger spare request permission to launch and fly air cover,"
"Negative spare,"
"Launch search and rescue,"
"Negative"
"Return to carrier,"
The words bounced around Rooster's head. Mav was hit, trying to save him. Rooster spun the jet, surveying the area. A plume of smoke rose from the snowy mountaintops. Payback was right... there was no parachute.
"Dagger two, confirm. Return to carrier,"
"Rooster, you've gotta go back... there's nothing we can do,"
Rooster felt numb. He cast one more look over the pristine, undisturbed snow. "Bradley," Phoenix's calm voice washed over, dousing the fire of grief for now. He fumbled for the radio. "Confirm... dagger two returning," He mumbled. He grasped the control stick tightly.
The last piece of his family was gone, and all Rooster was... he was cruel and horrible and deliberately nasty. He wanted Maverick to hurt just like Rooster did when his dad died, and when his mom died, and when his papers were pulled.
~
"They'll keep Pheonix and Bob in the hospital overnight for observation. They're gonna be ok," Maverick said quietly. Rooster dug his fingernails into his palm. "That's good... I've never lost a wingman," Rooster said instead. Maverick sighed quietly. "You're lucky. Fly long enough, it'll happen," He said bitterly. Rooster scoffed as he stood.
Was he seriously trying to compare this to losing his RIO, Roosters dad?
"Easy for you to say. No wife. No kids. Nobody to mourn you when you burn in," He spat. Rooster wanted Mav to take the bait, to turn and snap. He wanted the argument. Maybe then he'd get some answers.
"Go home... just get some sleep,"
Rooster jumped up, chest heaving with anger. "Why'd you pull my papers at the academy?" Rooster snapped. He glared at the older man. "Why did you stand in my way?" He seethed. Maverick took a breath. "You weren't ready," He said over his shoulder. "Ready for what? Huh? Ready to fly like you?" Rooster snapped.
Maverick spun. For a moment, Rooster thought he'd gone too far. "No," Maverick snapped, stepping forwards. "Ready to forget the book. Trust your instincts. Don't think, just do. You think up there, you're dead. Believe me."
Rooster's lip curled into a sneer as he looked his godfather up and down.
"My dad believed in you... I'm not gonna make the same mistake,"
Rooster knew, he damn well knew, it was a low blow. A blow low enough to warrant a smack. Christ knows if his mom was still alive she would've slapped him straight. But Maverick shuddered quietly and looked away. The whole point of the argument wasn't even his dad.
Having, finally, gotten into the naval academy, Rooster knew himself that his dad's death was nothing but accidental, a mechanical malfunction. One that took a life and ruined several others. For god's sake, from it, even Maverick was injured.
But Rooster wanted him to hurt. He wanted him to feel rage like nothing else in his life. But he didn't. He just... left with Warlock.
At the time, Rooster was glad he'd left. If Maverick had stayed in the room any longer, Rooster would've broken down and apologised for what he said. The guilt was overwhelming to the point of sitting down or falling down. So he was glad he left.
But now?
Now, Rooster would give anything, anything at all, to have him back.