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Jake has been staring at the ceiling for the past 15 minutes. It’s been 15 minutes since his alarm went off, and instead of getting out of bed, he just decides to lay there and stare. He supposes it’s one of those days.
He closed his eyes just to savor the fact that he was in bed. He wanted to stay there, do nothing, be nothing.
He had 15 minutes left before he had to be ready to go to work.
He took a deep sigh and rolled out of his bed, shivering at the slight chill as he left the comfort of his blankets. Rubbed his face in his hands twice before trodding off to the bathroom to do his business, wash his face, toothbrush, shave, and make sure his hair was within regulations.
He had a hop today, maybe that’ll snap him out of it.
“That’s tone, Hangman, 200 push ups when you’re back to base,” Maverick said over the comms.
“Did your hand slip off the stick or something, Seresin?” Rooster asked.
“Fuck off, Rooster.”
Hangman was disembarking from his jet when Mav started to approach him.
“Seresin!” Mav called out, making Hangman turn around.
“Sir,” Hangman acknowledged, removing his helmet.
Mav frowned as he took stock of his student. Nothing was visibly wrong, but the kid’s eyes were staring blankly, as if he was staring right through Mav, rather than at him. He also seemed more reserved today, and although Mav would attribute that to Hangman focusing on the lesson, his performance in the air said otherwise.
However, Mav knew that if he asked point-blank what was wrong, he wouldn’t get a proper answer.
“What do you think about the way I got tone on you, kid? Seems like I did it much faster than usual,” Mav said lightly.
“Yeah, guess so, just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all,” Hangman replied evenly.
Bullshit.
Before Mav could even think about something else to say, the kid squared his shoulders, but his tired eyes never changed.
“I’ll report to Hondo for the push-ups now, sir,” Hangman said. “Unless there’s anything else we need to discuss?”
Mav gave out a sigh, it was a Friday, maybe Hangman just needed the weekend. “Sure, kid, go ahead, rest up after, yeah? And make sure you got a better answer for me when we talk strategy again next week,” Mav said, nodding at Hangman to go.
Jake clenched his jaw before forcing it to relax. Just the push-ups, then he can go home.
“Yes, sir,” Hangman said before he walked away towards Hondo.
“According to his file, Seresin was here in the early days of you being stationed at Top Gun,” Maverick – “Navy’s Perpetual Headache” – Mitchell said as soon as he entered the Admiral’s office.
The man was getting more comfortable just being around Cyclone. Beau wondered if he had to change that.
To his credit, Maverick did knock this time. He just didn’t wait for Cyclone to respond before throwing the door open.
“Yes, Seresin won that year, he was impressive,” Cyclone replied. Yet, when he looked back at that year, the first thing he remembered was seeing Jake smoking alone on the boardwalk.
“According to different sources, he stayed behind for around a month after Top Gun ended, and started doing tasks outside of being a fighter pilot,” Mitchell said evenly.
Cyclone raised a brow and leaned forward, hands clasped, and elbows on his desk. “What do you want, Mitchell?”
Mitchell blinked before he took a step back and sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Nothing bad, you seem to know the kid, at least better than me,” Mitchell said, slumping down on the chair in front of his desk. “He was acting off today,” Mitchell muttered.
“Off, how?” Beau said, hoping he concealed his worry in the flat tone of his voice.
Maverick eyed Beau warily. Logically. Beau understood the hesitance. Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin, was the Captain’s subordinate, and the man was well known for being protective of his team. Maverick never had a good history with authority; the fact that he warmed up to Cyclone was a miracle that Beau didn’t understand himself. However, even if Maverick wouldn’t care about what Cyclone would do to him, he would care if Cyclone would ruin the team. Maverick knows that if Cyclone grounds Hangman, it would make whatever is going on worse. What Maverick didn’t know was that Cyclone knew that too, to a much better extent than Mitchell.
Emotionally. Beau just wanted to know what’s off with his kid, he wasn’t able to see him today.
“Unfocused, but every pilot has an off day, I’m not worried about that, I just wanted to know more about the lieutenant. Want some insight on how he works and how to get through him, the kid’s prickly,” Mav started making Beau snort. “You’re rational when assessing others, you could give me valuable insight.”
“How painful was it for you to say that?” Cyclone said dryly, leaning back in his seat and clasping his hands on his lap.
Mav visibly rolled his eyes, “I didn’t make it this far by ignoring all of Ice’s advice to me,” Mav said, giving Cyclone a smirk.
Cyclone debated what to say. He didn’t want to breach the kid’s privacy, but he can talk as Lieutenant Seresin’s previous commanding officer.
Plus, Jake needed more people in his corner.
“He’s a perfectionist, meticulous, ambitious, and always willing to learn,” Cyclone started with the basics. “He’s antagonistic, yes, but not much worse than other men in the Navy, usually other people or circumstances push him to react more expressively. ” Cyclone said the last word slowly, not really sure the best way to describe it. As much as Hangman pushes other people’s buttons, it’s within the scope of the usual ego-filled fighter pilot. However, most men in the Navy won’t take shit lying down, and with Hangman’s reputation and luck, people throw barbs back. “However, once you earn his trust, he eases up,” Cyclone said, frowning, feeling as if he said too much.
He felt Maverick roam his eyes at him. Cyclone felt strangely seen, and he wondered if he gave away too much and Mitchell would see how close Cyclone really is to the boy.
“How would you advise getting him to trust me?” Maverick asked instead, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
Cyclone remembered the dinner he had with Jake when Maverick just started to be the instructor for the mission.
“The legends don’t do him justice, the man’s insane,” Jake said, shoveling food in his mouth. “Haven’t had a challenge like that in a while,” Jake said grinning widely at Beau.
“Hero worship this early?” Beau asked drily, pushing another serving of mashed potatoes towards the boy.
Jake absent-mindedly dug in, “I dunno, he pushes us, and he cares in his own way. I can respect his skill and that. He’s a cocky, old, fossil–” Beau snorted loudly at that. “-- but he’s good, really good.”
That was the first of many where he heard Jake talk about his new favorite teacher.
“He taught us this neat trick in how to make sure our cars run nicely–”
“Oh did he?” Walker said grumpily, leaning his face on his fist. Beau smirked into his mug.
“Yeah! It’s real cool, it’s a different technique from what you taught me, but more efficie–”
The disgruntled look on Lucas’ face was worth it. It’s not fun being dethroned as the kid’s favorite, isn’t? Lucas was not Jake’s current favorite mechanic, for now (and Beau wasn’t Jake’s favorite pilot, right now either).
And another —
“Come onnnn, you should really approve pops teaching us the cobra maneuver,” Jake whined slumped on his couch.
“No, I am not setting a dangerous precedent, especially when there’s just a bunch of new rookies at Top Gun,” Beau said, passing by and lightly hitting the boy in the head with a newspaper.
He ignored the fake yelp of pain. Brat.
“He’s good, who else would you trust to teach us dangerous maneuvers?” Jake asked.
Cyclone sighed and looked the older man in the eye. He wasn’t a fan of Maverick, but he doesn’t hate him. Hell, he’s even starting to respect the man as a coworker. “I think he trusts you much more than you think he does,” Beau said earnestly.
Mav blinks at that, mouth gaping slightly.
Beau decides to stand up, “I have to go check on a few departments, Captain, if there are any other concerns, let me know,” Beau said, striding to the door.
“Down– 75 – Down – 76”
Jake watched his sweat drip down on the tarmac. He was thankful that Hondo wasn’t in a particularly chatty mood today. He could just do push-ups based on the rhythm. He couldn’t really focus much on what Hondo was saying. It was as if he was under water.
“Down– 133 – Down– 134 –”
Jake blinked the sweat out of his eyes, trying to focus on moving his arms. Chest near, but not touching the ground, push, elbows locked, down. Push– down–
“Down– 157 – Down– 158–”
He wondered how long he was staring at a blurry tarmac. Or did it just look like that? What’s the point of focusing? He blinked and slightly shook his head, not the time to feel lightheaded– what if he just flopped down on the floor?
Down. Up. Down–
“ Hangman, Hangman, Seresin, Lie utenant Seresin!”
Jake stopped and blinked up at Hondo looking at him with a crease on his brow. He didn’t realize his ears were ringing static, until Hondo called for his attention.
“You’re done, Seresin. You did all of them, you’re dismissed.” Hondo said, slowly, making sure to sound out each word.
Hangman slowly got himself up, blinking at the spots in his vision from being on the ground for too long.
“Seresin?”
Hangman looked at Hondo.
“Are you good, Lieutenant?” Hondo asked slowly.
Jake knew he had to say something, he was expected to say something, he had to say something. It was just Hondo, it was just a simple question— Why were words stuck in his throat?
“Yeah,” Jake croaked out, his throat dry and tight. “Just need some water…”
Hondo looked unconvinced, but he nodded at him to leave. “Clean yourself up.”
Hangman gave a wave goodbye as he marched towards the locker room. He didn’t bother to shower, he was thankful that most people in the locker room were minding their own business, as he grabbed his stuff and headed to his car.
He was about to turn a corner when–
“Jake?”
He turned around to find his–, find Beau standing there, Beau closed the distance between them.
“Hey, how have you been?” Beau asked, hands twitching, as if he wanted to reach out, but they were still on base.
Jake blinked blearily at Beau. Squeezing his eyes shut, and opening them, shaking his head a bit to ease the fogginess in his head.
“Hi,” Jake weakly said.
He saw the older man’s face soften and Beau brought his hand up to clasp a hand on his shoulder. Jake sighed, barely stopping himself from leaning at the admiral. They were still at work.
“Come on, son, how about we go home, yeah?” Beau said softly, pressing the back of his palm at the side of Jake’s neck. “I don’t know if you’re warm from exercise or something else–”
Jake shook his head lightly, “Not sick.”
Beau looked unconvinced, but nodded and handed Jake his car keys. “Go on and start the car, I parked it where I usually do. I just have to get some of my stuff. Settle in and wipe your sweat before you actually get sick, yes?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Jake said, clasping the car keys lightly in his hand, thumb running over the tiny wrench keychain, and the ridges of the house keys beside the car fob.
Jake never knew how Beau could trust him with something so precious.
“Good, I’ll be there in 5.”
As soon as Jake started the truck, he shuffled over to the passenger side and buckled himself in. He leaned his head against the window. He didn’t know how out of it he was until he jolted up when he heard the driver door being opened. Blinking blearily.
“Nice nap, Lieutenant?” Beau said, smirking as he settled himself in his seat.
Jake glared back at him, “Well you woke me up,” he muttered, settling back in his seat.
Beau hummed in response, “We’ll be home soon, kid.”
“Yeah, home,” Jake said softly, leaning back to look blankly at the window as Beau pulled out.
Once Beau got the front door to cooperate with his keys, he pushed the door open, and herded Jake inside. Pushing him in to go first.
Jake was rubbing his eyes with his palm, and Beau tutted at him, “Don’t rub your eyes, Jake, now go on and take a shower and change clothes before your sweat dries up and you get sick.” Beau said, taking the boy’s bag from him. “There’s towels in the bathroom, I just did laundry this morning, so I’ll get you some clothes and leave it at your bed, yeah?”
It said a lot when Jake simply nodded and slowly dragged his feed to the guest– his bedroom.
Beau put their bags to the side, and quickly changed to more comfortable clothes. He went to Jake’s pile of folded laundry. He saw one of Jake’s folded hoodie, and quickly threw it in the dryer. He grabbed the pile of clean clothes and started towards Jake’s room where he heard the pipes running.
He opened the drawers and organized Jake’s clothes, making sure to put the newly washed clothes underneath the clothes already there, so Jake wouldn’t wear them out too quickly. He grabbed a few clothes and tossed them in Jake’s bed for him to use.
He went back to the dryer, grabbing the hoodie out. He flopped it out and smirked at the cartoon-y jet design before quickly folding it and leaving it in Jake’s room.
He might as well get started on dinner.
Or maybe just order in today. It is a Friday after all.
Jake went through his normal shower routine. Hair, face, body, scrub, rinse. Rinse. Rinse.
Jake turned the heater up and just stared down at his hands, watching as the water dripped down his eyelashes and fell into his hands or between the gaps of his fingers. He clenched his hands and opened it, clenched them again, and opened it.
He felt the hot water beat down his back.
He felt water run down his body.
He closed his hand, opened it, shook it out. He tried to shake his head, watching as the water fell off his eyes, and his vision cleared up.
Logically, his vision was clear. He can see the individual tiles on the bathroom walls. He can clearly read what soap and shampoo products were available in the shower. His hands and arms would move when he wanted them too. He was here. He was here.
He turned the heat up a notch.
He looked up at the shower head. The heat should bother him, it really should, but why–
He sighed when he realized his fingers were starting to get pruny. He was wasting water and heat. No point standing there. He turned the shower straight off and punctually dried himself off.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and padded back into his room, blinking at the clothes set at the bed.
He huffed out a small smile as the clothes looked ‘haphazardly’ thrown around by Beau’s standards, but were spread out in an organized way, so that he didn’t have to think which item to grab first.
He changed and his hands stilled when he grabbed the last piece of clothing. It was his hoodie. He ran a thumb at the flying jets, before bringing the hoodie to his chest, just to bask in the warmth. He nuzzled the cloth in his face, taking a deep breath to smell the clean detergent warmth by the heat.
He could fall asleep standing up.
There was a knock at his door, “Hey bud, you good with the usual takeout today?” Beau called out.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Jake called out, thumbing the jet prints one more time before slipping the hoodie on, making sure the hood was surrounding his neck.
“Okay, there’s a game playing on TV, right now, if you want to join-?”
“Sure, I’ll be out in a sec,” Jake called back softly.
Beau placed in the order, making sure to add Jake’s favorite dessert.
He heard Jake’s door opening and turned to see Jake flop down to lie on the sofa. Burying his face into one of the pillows. He smiled at the sight of mussed hair and bleary eyes and casually threw a throw blanket to settle on top of the boy. Jake cocooned himself in the blanket, so that only the top of his hair was peaking out.
Beau frowned and looked at the TV that was playing the latest football game.
He grabbed a thermometer from the medicine cabinet. And walked towards the kid, carding a hand through the boy’s hair.
“Jake? Come on, I need you to sit up for a second,” Beau gently coaxed, shaking the kid’s shoulder.
Jake let out a groan as he shuffled to prop himself up, blanket pooling at his lap. As soon as the boy was about to speak, Beau quickly plopped the thermometer into his mouth, earning him a disgruntled glare. Beau merely raised a brow at the boy, who just crossed his arms and leaned back on the sofa.
Beau grabbed the thermometer once it beeped, 99F. High, but still within normal range. Beau frowned.
Jake straightened up to take a peak, “See? I told you I wasn’t sick,” Jake said smugly, crossing his arms and giving Beau a small smirk.
“Do you have a headache?” Beau asked as he put a palm against the boy’s forehead to ease his worry.
Jake shook his head, but leaned into the touch, “Nah, ’m just, tired, feel weird…”
“Feel weird, how?”
“ ‘Dunno, it’s just one of those days,” Jake softly said, closing his eyes. “Everythin’ ‘s weird, just an off day, Boss-boss.”
Beau bit his tongue, preventing himself from pushing harder. “Okay, kid, do you need anything? Ibuprofen? Hot pack?”
“Nah, not sick,” Jake muttered. “Just want to lay here…”
Beau put his hands on Jake’s shoulders to steady and take a look at him. Take into account the droopy and unfocused eyes, the limp limbs, and the slouching shoulders before he sighed and sat down beside him. Slinging an arm around the kid’s shoulder, pulling him closer, coaxing him to lay back down and rest his head on his lap. Jake stiffened, but shifted a bit to be comfortable, until he relaxed, resting his head on the older man’s lap.
“Is this okay?” Beau asked lowly, spreading the blanket over the kid and patting it down to settle nicely over the boy..
“Yeah,” Jake said before pausing. “Thanks for warming up my hoodie, you didn’t have to…”
“It’s nothing, kid,” Beau said, smoothing out Jake’s hair.
Jake’s favorite team was playing, but he couldn’t focus on the announcer’s voice, who’s offense or defense, or who even is tackling who. His thoughts still were shifted , as if he was floating in a different world. But–
His hoodie was warm.
The blanket was soft.
Beau was by him, carding his fingers through his hair in a steady pattern. One– Two– Three–, Jake blinked.
He pinched the blanket between his fingers, reveling in the soft texture before tucking the blanket up to cover half his face.
He closed his eyes. One-- Two-- Three—
He took a deep breath, settling on the couch.
He could feel Beau breathing, his abdomen rising and falling steadily.
He closed his eyes, Beau continuing to stroke his hair. He thinks he’ll be alright. He’ll go back to being Jake “Hangman” Seresin.
But right now, he just wants to be.