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Jake seresin, after one too many drinks and a rather embarassing encounter with his squad Captain (now unofficial father-figure), had learnt his lesson when it came to his own limits, and now took his alcohol consumption a lot more seriously than he had before.
Granted, he didn't quit drinking entirely- but now he took it a lot slower and easy; racing to be totally hammered wasn't very much his style anymore. And never again did he drink when he was feeling any other emotion besides undeniably happy.
Which was how he felt now, nursing a few cold ones and catching up with some old avaitor buddies from his early flight school days. Before Topgun, and way before he'd met any members of the Dagger squad- whom he more closely (and secretly) considered as family. The small group of guys he'd met with at a bustling downtown bar (thankfully not the Wine Bar, as he doubted he could ever step foot in there again without feeling his stomach churn uncomfortably at the hazy, drunken memory) were nice enough, and very quick to forgive him for being a complete ass in his youth, too. Which the now considerably changed young man was more than grateful for. The less apologies he had to make in expense of his younger self, the better.
They'd just been laughing over a fond memory involving a prank one of the boys -callsign, ‘Ox' (fitting, given he was built like one)- had pulled on one of their old (and least favoured) lieutenants, when Hangman noticed they were all running empty on drinks.
He excused himself from the crammed booth area, and headed over to the bar to grab a new round in. One of the boys had just called for him to grab a different draught- this one less strong than what Jake had picked out in the last round- to which he'd jokingly yelled back "that's a boys beer, you wimp", when something barrelled right into him-
"Ow- what the-" he verbally fumbled at the force of the hit, glancing down at the shock of blonde hair belonging to the short young lady whom he'd crashed into- or maybe, it was her who had knocked into him? Either way it didn't matter, he was still embarrassed he'd nearly sent the smaller girl sprawling in his haste to the bar.
He grabbed an arm on instinct when she wobbled backwards, steadying them both with a polite laugh. She turned to look up at him, and an awkward, yet playful apology was already tumbling fast out of his mouth. "Woah, hey!-I'm so sorry, I didn't see you th-"
"-Hangman?!"
The bright, youthful face of Amelia Benjamin stared up at him beneath several layers of heavily applied makeup, and Jake felt his whole body freeze in shock. She, on the other hand, jumped back in her own surprise, the drink in her hand sloshing about and just missing the man's suede shoes.
He blinked down at her, before the soft remnants of his joyous smile slipped away, features drawing down into a firm frown as his gaze hardened. "What are you doing here?" He asks her, eyes steely, voice deep and stern.
She opens her mouth and closes it again, reminding the older man of a fish out of water. Then, she giggles nervously at him, sways slightly, and he feels an ice-cold horror wash over him-
She was drunk.
Amelia's soft giggles quieten to nothing when all he does is stare down at her, and she opens her mouth again, but before she can even attempt what he knows would be a really poor (and possibly slurred) excuse, he's grabbing the drink from her hands, and setting it against the nearest table with a loud bang. She makes a noise of protest at the action. He ignores her. Then, his grip on her arm tightens like a vice, and he's marching them both out of the bar without so much as a backwards glance.
His grip is strong, and she embarrassingly tries to pry her way out of it, but his large white knuckles are hard to loop her dainty little fingers under, and he warns her not to try it with a sharp tug- yanking her along through the crowd of people with a hard set jaw.
She finds her voice when he pulls them clear out the front doors, stumbling after him on shaky-intoxicated- legs. "Get off me, Lieutenant" she hisses.
He lets her rip her arm out of his now slack grip, before rounding on her, throwing a patronising look as he does so.
"Oh, so it's Lieutenant now, huh?" He says, unaware of the several onlookers spying on their conversation rather indiscreetly. Amelia sees it, and flushes- though it's hard to tell beneath the copious amounts of foundation and contour. Jake grimaces at the sight, suddenly feeling sad. She looked different under this lighting, older, nothing at all like the funny kid he'd come to know over the past few years- where on earth had that little girl gone?
Nowhere, he thinks, she's still there, playing dress-up and pretending to be something she's not.
Jakes breaths come out in short, angry puffs, no doubt scaring the girl stood opposite him, looking at him with nervous, furrowed brows. He doesn't really care, she should be scared. She was in a whole world of trouble.
"You should not be in there!" he seethes, pointing a finger towards the open doors of the bar, where muted glass clinking and peals drunken laughter could still be heard. "How the hell did you even get in?!”
She avoids his gaze, hiccoughs, and shrugs absently, but he sees her fiddling with something in her hand. He quickly snatches her wrist, tugging the object out of her dainty, polish-chipped fingers.
"Ow- hey!-" she complained, struggling slightly and wobbling on unsteady feet as she fumbles to keep the item away from him, but his much stronger hands are grabbing the plastic card from her, holding it up to the dim light of the night, before scowling. He rounds his icy gaze onto her, and flashes the card in her direction.
"A fake ID?" he barks, deeply unamused. "Who gave you this?"
Her lip wobbles, but she presses her mouth firmly shut, her loyalty outshining any attempt at saving her own ass. Jake sees it as less heroic, and more stupid than anything else.
"Will I find them in there?" He continues non too nicely, jutting his chin in the direction of the bar. "Is that who you came with tonight?"
She gives a sly, very tipsy grin, and blinks up at him through half-lidded eyes. "I'm here alon-"
"-Bullshit, Mels" he snaps, making the girl jump, a spell of sobriety hitting her like a slap to the face, "You can try and lie to Penny and Mav, and hell maybe Bradley will fall for your shit" he stalks toward her, jabs a finger into her collarbone, and growls, "But you do not fucking lie to me"
His words reverberate around the cool, quiet air, dying away like a final statement, til all that remained was the quiet sound of breathing- one harsh and angry, the other shaky and sounding moments away from tears.
Tears that, true as word, are welling up in the shorter girls eyes. Her lip quivers, eyes swivelling back and forth against the pair of stern green that are gauging her reaction with only the slightest bit of regret. The rest is pure rage and disappointment, making the girl feel sick, which had little to do with the copious amounts of alcohol currently flowing through her bloodstream.
She opens her mouth to speak, to apologise? Hangman isn't sure because he's holding a hand up to silence her, fishing his phone out his pocket. The girls jaw snaps shut with a painful-sounding clang, eyes impossibly wide as she eyes the device, panic gnawing away at her stomach.
Oh god, she thinks, clarity consuming her booze-fogged brain for a few singular seconds, is he calling my parents?
She watches with bated breath as the aviator holds the phone up to his ear, letting it ring for a few seconds before answering with a false sense of cheerfulness. "Tommy" he greets with a smile in his voice, despite his stormy face still being trained on her. She deflates at the name, not her parents.
"Yeah. It’s me, man- I’m just outside- no, I’m fine” Hangman continues, scratching the back of his head and awkwardly staring down at the ground. "Something’s come up- I bumped into my friends kid sister, I gotta’ get her home" his eyes sweep back up to find her, glint dangerously in the dim light, and she feels the threat to cry rise up in her once more. "Can you put a word to the barman for me? Tell him there's a few underage teens hangin' out in there"
Amelia, horrified, reaches forward to protest, but Jake clenches his jaw and points a finger at her, a wordless warning- and all the previous bravado she had gearing up to protect her friends' identities deflates out of her like a popped balloon.
He finishes up the conversation with a tight, "Thanks man, I'll talk soon- tell the guys ‘bye for me" before hanging up, and his sole attention turns back to her once more, making the poor girl feel incredibly nervous. He's gripping her arm again, and this time she doesn't protest, allowing him to lead them both towards a long row of parked cars, where his truck sits, waiting for them.
He pops the passenger door open, "Get in" he says, tired.
Her voice is barely a whisper, "I can make my own way ho-"
"Now, Amelia"
She jumps out of her skin at the command, scrambling up into the truck and barely getting herself seated before the passenger door was slammed shut in her face. The tears were back, blurring up her vision, yet refusing to fall.
She watches, breath bated, as Hangman circles round the vehicle and wordlessly hops into the drivers seat, his own door slamming shut with equal force.
"Put your seatbelt on" he growls, turning the key in the ignition and allowing the vehicle to thrum to life. He runs a tired hand over his face, shaking his head, "God, I Cant believe you thought it would be cool to sneak into a fucking bar" He says to the open air, "What are you, twelve?!"
Amelia bristles, blue eyes blazing behind the tears still filling up behind her lashes, "I'm Fifteen!" She hisses (like that makes much difference), furiously tugging at the seatbelt strap to try and pull it across her body, frustration climbing when it jams, "Dunno what ur so mad about- it was only a few drinks"
"Uh, No" he cuts in with a mock laugh, "I had a few drinks- thank god. Otherwise we'd be catching an Uber home right now" he half-turns to face her, one hand motioning to her as she continues to drunkenly grapple with the seatbelt, "but this right here? This? This is not a few drinks-"
He huffs, and reaches over, batting her hands away from the tricky seatbelt and finishing the simple task himself. Amelia doesn't bother to thank him, in fact, she only grows more frustrated- this time with him.
"Why do you even care?! You had no right to do that in there!" She yells in his face, watching his brows furrow in ire and...hurt? He leans back in his seat again, turning away from her with a scoff, his dismissive action causing her anger to tenfold, "You should've just walked away- I'm not your problem-!"
Jake was about to put the truck in gear, when he suddenly stalled, causing them to both jolt forward in their seats, the younger letting out a soft 'ow' that went unnoticed by the eldest. He feels his blood boil, and rounds on his wayward passenger with a fierce look.
"How dare you say that to me" he seethes, his voice filling the small space in the truck and causing the girl to wince at its volume, shrinking down in her seat in newfound apprehension. "You’re damn lucky I was there!" He sees the stubborn tears start to fall from her eyes, hears her sniffle, sees her shrink away from him. It's apparent to anyone with eyes that the girl is deeply upset, yet he finds he doesn't really care, "God knows what could've happened to a kid like you if I hadn't been-!"
"-Im not a fucking kid!" She roars back in a last ditch effort of stubbornness, before crumpling, letting loose a soft, frustrated cry, "Ugh, god. Why does everyone keep treating me like I'm a baby?!"
He scoffs, rising to the occasion with his own last shout of, "Believe it or not, 'melia- you are a baby! You-!"
But the tears were coming hot and heavy now, tumbling down her cheeks like a waterfall, followed by several anguished wails of teenage despair- and Jake stops, and blinks, anything else he had to say melting away at the sight of the distraught girl.
Her crying intensifies- and he loathes the sound. It pierces his ears, travels through his body and all the way to his chest, where it worms its way into a narrow space behind his ribs and squeezes uncomfortably. He too deflates, the anger trickling out of him the more the kid continues to sob in earnest, til all that's left is this deep pit of sadness swirling in his stomach.
He breathes another tired sigh, pinches the bridge of his nose, and tries again. Softer. 'Think Mav' he mentally encourages himself, 'Be Mav'
"Look" he starts, already uncertain with where he's going, "I know you may think you've got your life together at fifteen-pssh-" he shakes his head at the ridiculous of it, and for the fact that he was currently trying to give said fifteen year old a reassuring Pep-talk. What had his Friday nights come to? "But trust me, you don't have a clue" she spares him a withering glare amidst her tears, and he quickly reaffirms her "hey, I thought the same at your age- but out there in the real world, you're like Bambi on ice"
They both stew in the quiet that follows his words, broken only by the occasional teary whimper as the girl vainly tries to soften her crying- morbidly embarrassed she was currently sobbing her heart out in-front of the Lieutenant.
"Bradley was right" she says eventually, sniffling, attempting to be somewhat scathing, and falling short among her mess of tears, "You're an ass"
Hangman rolls his eyes.
"Cheap insults- that's real cute, kid." He says sarcastically, raising a brow when she looks up at him, surprised by his lack of reaction to her insult "What?” He asks, “Thought you could hurt my feelings? 'Gotta try harder than that, Benjamin"
She relents with a small, wet laugh, barely there- but Jake still heard it, and felt a fleeting flicker of pride in himself. Granted, he wasn't exactly 'Mav-material', but getting a teenage girl to laugh when she was already crying was a good sign, right?
He hears her sniffle, her sighing breath congested, before mumbling out a soft "M' Sorry I ruined your night"
"Hm" he hums, then, "I'm not sorry I ruined yours"
Another hiccoughing laugh. Then, a whispered, "Fair"
Suddenly Amelia hunched in her seat, shakily clutched at her head and groaned. Jake spares her a knowing look- here comes the shitty part of intoxication.
"Ugh, I feel awful" she huffs, her wobbly, drunk-addled hands rubbing at her temple, as if it would ebb the stabbing pains forming behind her eyes.
Jake sighs, knowing all too well how that felt.
"That'll be the karma" he says and she groans again, muttering a slightly slurred 'you're not helping'. He rolls his eyes again, turning the keys in the ignition a second time, restarting the previously stalled truck, "it's alright, kid. I'm taking you home now"
The vehicle starts up at his words, the engine coming to live with a gentle thrum beneath their seats. He'd just wheeled away from the bar when the girl nervously piped up-
"Please don't tell my mom"
Hangman felt a long sigh rattle from his chest. Damn, he hated playing the bad guy.
He began. "Amelia-"
Then, she was trying to sit up straighter in her seat, body taught and on the defence, "Please" she pleaded to him in earnest, hands anxiously clutching the leather of his seats. "you can't" her voice croaked, then cracked, becoming Damn near hysterical, "she'll be so disappointed in me”
Then she was crying again, big fat crocodile tears tumbling towards her chin, where she swiped stubbornly at them- hiccoughing as she tried to whistle in a breath amidst her hyperventilating.
"Woah woah, easy" he said, trying to juggle between focusing on the road and calming the distraught girl sitting in his passenger seat. Christ, he thought, How did Mav make this look so damn easy?
"Baby steps, Bambi- baby steps” Jake reminds her, trying to sound serious yet reassuring over the sound of her weeping, "let's figure this shit out as we go, okay?- no need to freak out on me now"
Amelia continued to breathe heavily, trying to suck in fast gasps of air, but ultimately working herself up more.
"Calm down, Amelia" he soothed, the sternness in his voice slipping away by the seconds, replaced instead by overwhelming concern. He watches as she tries to do as she's told, breathing deeper, stuttering over her tears, yet giving it a good go at calming herself.
Attagirl, he thinks. "Look” he starts, wetting his lips nervously, “Your moms gonna' know as soon as I drive up to your door. Just take the brunt of it, say you’re sorry, and I'm sure it'll all be fine by this time tomorrow"
"She's working late tonight" She whimpers out, bottom lip wobbling something fierce. Shit, he briefly thinks, as he worries his own lip with his teeth.
“I was supposed to be staying at my friends"
"Oh?" He asks, feigning nonchalance as he takes a left turn, "The friend who gave you the ID?"
"Nice try" she hiccoughs, and Jake feels a wry little smile tug up at his lips at her own attempt at humour.
"You're too fucking stubborn for your own good, Benjamin" he says with a half-amused huff, some of the tension leaking out of his shoulders when she spares a weepy side grin in reply, "if I was you I would've squealed by now"
She sighs, sniffs, her voice coming out croaky, "Yeah well, what good would that do? In trouble with my mom and my friends?" Her face scrunches up as more silent tears tumble out her eyes, "no thanks"
He heaves a sigh at the sight, not liking the way it twists something up in his own chest. Is this how he looked to Mav? So small and broken, curled up in his passenger seat?
He shook away the thought, that moment was gone and in the past now- there was a new moment happening here and now, and he was needed for it. No matter how ironic that seemed to him.
"Is anyone home?" He eventually asks, "I gotta pass my responsibilities over to someone a bit more capable than me, or I'm in for a long night" it's an attempt at some form of humour, something to ease the weight that had settled in the air around them. But also a way for the kid to know that he wasn't angry anymore, how could he be? It'd be pretty hypocritical of him, for start.
"Um-dunno" she replies in a small voice, "Mav's away"
His stomach sinks. Shit, again.
He tries for someone else, "Bradshaw?"
She blinks, and he hangs onto her answer in deep anticipation.
“Yeah" she says, and something wrung taught inside him eases, "yeah, I think Brads home"
Thank god.
"Good"
He takes a turn at the next set of lights, marking a path for the Maverick-Bradshaw-Benjamin household. They'd just left downtown behind them, when Amelia, in a frightened voice, pipes up.
"Are you still gonna tell my parents?"
Jake clenched his jaw, letting a tired sigh whistle past his teeth.
"I'm gonna leave that to Bradshaw" he says, "He’s your brother, technically"
Amelia frowns over at him, "You're kinda- I mean" she stops herself, and Jakes ears perks up at the context of her rambling. He's kinda what? He muses.
She quickly continues, "The Daggers, they- they're like family too, y’know?”
Jake, stunned, takes a moment to peel his eyes from the road and gauge the girls face. Yet, the teen is turned away, gazing out the window, her small breaths puffing up the glass. Her words strike a chord, nonetheless, and he's momentarily floored by the sheer power such a simple sentence has over him- the kid considered hi-well, the daggers- as family?
"I'm not usually like this, by the way" she says before he can get too lost in that idea, snapping him back to attention. He gives her words thought for a moment, as they break at a red light. "I don't- this isn't my thing"
"I know" he replies, voice low and a touch solemn, "you're a good kid, I know"
Tears that never really dispersed are springing back to her eyes, illuminated by the overhead streetlights as she absently gazes up at them from the window. That, or she was giving a sad attempt at holding them back from spilling down her cheeks. "I was just trying out something new" she confesses, voice cracking, "I just wanted to...not be me. Just for a little while"
Jake spares the back of her head a sad look, roughly clearing his throat when he feels a strange lump forming there. "Been there kid" he mutters honestly, turning back to the road, "But at the end of the day you have to come home to yourself- this buzz is only temporary" he tries for a small laugh, "and so not worth the killer hangover, by the way"
"I was angry" she confesses, voice sounding just as much. "I just didn't want to deal with the stuff going on in my head" another small, breathy sob cuts her off, and he spots her frustratedly scrubbing at her eyes, "I thought it would help me relax- help me forget. But, it just made me feel more alone"
She stops, falling quiet, trying to weep as silently as possible. Hangman catches her shoulders shaking, however, giving her away. He spots the difference in her crying straight away, and it unnerves him deeply. Moments ago, her tears were an angry narrative of teenage rebellion. Now, they were a long bottled-up anecdote of pure sadness. Of silent despair. A hurt, she figured, only alcohol could ease the ache of.
Jake too, is quiet for a long time, unsure whether to pry- whether any comfort he had to offer her would even help. Fuck it, he thinks, he can't let them sit in silence for the rest of the trip. "What are you trying to forget?"
The quiet remains, and Jake feels a momentary surge of panic, wondering if he'd overstepped the line. Then, in the smallest voice she'd mustered up all night, she spoke;
"...My Dad and his girlfriend are having a baby"
There’s a beat. A long one.
"Oh"
"Hm. I found out today.” She confesses, words barely intelligible through her blubbering. “I should be happy for him" she scoffs, frustrated with her own attitude, "it's great news. It's just-" her voice grows immeasurably sad, "I was his baby too. And he left us"
Hangman's mouth opens, but no words of comfort come falling out. He feels something stir inside him, a strange, overwhelming sense of deja vu. His chest aches- a feeling he'd been all too used to when regarding memories of his own father.
"He left me, and he didn’t come back" Amelia snivels bitterly, "and it was because he didn't want me"
The vehicle comes crawling to a stop sign, just as Jake starts, voice soft, "oh, Kid-"
"Don't!- don’t try and say some bullshit line that’ll make me feel better" she snaps, finally turning to him, and Hangman half wishes she hadn't. Her face was pitiful, scrunched up in anger and hurt and reflecting so much pain. "It's true" she says earnestly, "He didn't want the responsibility of being a parent- he didn't want me"
She laughs, humourless, words coming out snide and more tears flood out of her eyes. "But now I guess it's okay? Now, he wants to be a father- just not mine"
The loud sobbing comes back. Long, broken whines of misery, "Was I not good enough for him?"
The engine revs a little, and Jake turns in his seat- and Amelia almost reels back at the fierce look in his eyes. But his anger isn't directed at her, but rather for her.
"That's total horseshit!" He snaps, "He, is not good enough for you"
Her eyes are wide and glassy, mouth hanging open dumbly- unsure what to do.
"You're a great kid- top of your classes, I've heard" he continues, and Amelia doesn’t need to be a genius to know where he got his information from. Mav likes to boast.
He doesn’t stop there, “And Brad adores you, though he'd never tell you- I seen the way you two are with eachother, the pair of you are like a double-act" he says, and something hopeful wriggles inside his chest when he sees the corners of her mouth threatening to twitch. “You make him laugh more than anyone else I've ever seen- and that's saying something cause my jokes are killers"
She scoffs, not quite a laugh- but Hangman feels he’s getting somewhere, so he doesn’t stop his encouraging lecture.
"And as much as Pheonix says she's cool with being one of the boys, she sure loves having another girl around" There!, he thinks when her lip wobbles, was that a smile?
"Plus you're the only person I know who can beat my score on dance-dance-revolution" okay, now she was definitely smiling- and rolling her eyes at him, but at least there was a smile present amidst the action.
"and I know I say I let you win, but it's actually not true- I'm just a sore loser who doesn't know how to take a hit to the ego"
Her snort transcends into a small laugh, and that hope in his chest is now in full bloom, he can feel it behind his ribs, growing around his lungs, and blossoming near his heart.
“I'm bad at this" he confesses after a pause, a breathy, embarrassed laugh of his own making an appearance, and he spots the girls taught shoulders begin unwind. “But what I'm trying to get at here is-“ he shifts awkwardly, suddenly very unsure of himself.
"We're your family” he says like it’s the most truthful thing he’s ever confessed in his life. And it was. To him, at least. Mav, The Daggers, Penny and Amelia- they weren’t just his Captain, workmates, friends or friends-of-friends. They were family. They were his.
Tears are still rolling down the girls cheeks- but they’re no longer bitter and sad. They’re happy ones, grateful.
She’s smiling too, wobbly, but wide - eyes shimmering with appreciation.
He smiles too, before-
“Besides, we'd pick you over a dumb baby-"
"Hangman-"
"Who's probably gonna pop out ugly anyway-"
"Woa-haha-JAKE-"
"Okay, sorry" he says, and then, “was that too far?"
He thinks maybe it was, but she’s laughing now, full and joyous, and looking so far away from the miserable girl he’d dragged out a bar minutes before.
He turns back to the road again, figuring they’d been stationed at this stop sign a little too long now, and begins driving once more.
"We want you, kid- you got a whole Dagger family behind you" He continues after a beat, when the girls giggles have fallen silent, and before he even realises it, a ghost of Mavericks own words are tumbling out his mouth. “is that enough for you?"
"Yeah" said girl hums, unknowingly mirroring Jakes own response, “s’more than enough"
He nods, content, feeling a lot better now they’d had this talk. He felt a small swell of pride for himself too, and briefly wondered if this is what Mav had expected when he told him to ‘pay it forward’. Well, he thinks, maybe not exactly this.
Amelias voice pulls him from his pondering, sounding tired, but a lot less miserable than before. And drunk, for that matter. “Now drive, idiot- I need a bed, or I'm gonna crash soon" and then her face grows sour, as well as her next sentence, “and maybe a toilet cause I also think I might throw up"
He presses down harder on the gas, and they speed up, “For the love of-“ he mutters, panicking, “Not in my fucking truck, please"
“Better floor it, Seresin"