Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A glimpse of what could be.

Before the 1986 Top Gun class began, a large, dark blue swirling portal appeared. A man, appearing to be in his early thirties and dressed in a naval uniform, stepped out. He had no name tag. He approached the person he knew was in charge, Commander Metcalf. He handed him an envelope, then turned around and walked back into the portal, which closed immediately after him.

Commander Mike “Viper” Metcalf opened the envelope. It reads.

To Commander Metcalf,

            If you’re reading this, our man made it through the portal. This means we’ll be sending a unit to help you teach the 1986 Top Gun class. If I haven’t already mentioned, we’re from the year 2020. There will be 14 aviators, including the two high-ranking commanding officers. They will bring their aircraft when the portal opens again in 48 hours. We’ve decided not to tell you who is coming. Have fun.

Commander of the Pacific Fleet.

Viper didn’t know what to do. This was his first time. He looked to his left and saw Jester. He handed the letter over to him. Jester read the letter, looking slightly excited and nervous. “I wonder what the future aircraft looks like?” Jester asked Viper. “We will see in 2 days,” Viper responded.

2 Days later

The portal is large enough to allow the nine aircraft to pass through safely. Viper counts in his head, knowing there must be more than the 14 aviators the letter mentioned. As they land, he notices that five of the aircraft are one-seaters. Ground control guides them to a hangar out of the way so the 1986 class cannot see them. After entering the hangar, no one leaves. Viper is about to go in when he notices a sign on the hangar door.

“Do Not Enter. We will be ready in the morning before the start of the first class at 0700.”

“Thank You, COMPACFLT.”

Viper had no choice but to turn around and head back to the main building. He now knew that the COMPACFLT was among them. He wonders why it is so secret. Well, he will find out tomorrow morning.

The Next Morning

As all the pilots from the 1986 Top Gun class enter that classroom, they sense that something is off. The energy in the room is heavy but electrified at the same time. The 1986 group had heard rumors that a group of aviators was there to train them, but none of them could think of anyone besides Viper and Jester.

At 0700, Jester walks up to the podium. “I received a letter from a group that will help train you for future missions. These pilots are not from here; they are from the year 2020. I know that may sound unbelievable. They are housed in the back hangar along with their jets. There are a total of 14 of them here—two are older commanding officers. Now I would like to introduce the future Commander of the Pacific Fleet.” The door at the back of the room opens, and all of the men stand at attention. They watch as an older blond man makes his way to the raised podium.

“Good morning, you may sit. I am Admiral Tom Kazansky, Commander of the Pacific Fleet.” There was a pause. “I am here to make sure that my pilots do not get into any trouble while they are here. I want to introduce you to the Commander and leader of the Dagger Squadron, and my constant headache, Rear Admiral Pete Mitchell, callsign “Maverick.” The whole class turns and sees an older Maverick walk into the room.

“As Ice said, I am the leader of the Dagger Squadron. My Daggers are the best of the best. We only take on missions that no other pilot can handle. I have trained every one of them, and I’m very proud to have them on my wing.” Mav pauses for a moment.

“I will introduce them to you now. First, Lt. Natasha Trace callsign “Phoenix,” Lt. Robert Floyd callsign “Bob,” Lt. Reuben Fitch callsign “Payback,” Lt. Mickey Gracia callsign “Fanboy,” Lt. Javy Machado callsign “Coyote,” Lt. Brigham Lennox callsign “Harvard,” Lt. Logan Lee callsign “Yale,” Lt. Neil Vikander callsign “Omaha,” Lt. Billy Avalone callsign “Fritz,” Lt. Callie Bassett callsign “Halo,” and now the last two.” Ice comments with a hint of humor, “One that Slider has repeatedly ranted about being a blond Maverick.” “Thank you, Ice, for the untrue statement. Lt. Jake Seresin, callsign “Hangman,” and the one pilot that two of you know very well—Lt. Bradley Bradshaw callsign “Rooster.”

As their names were called, the pilots walked up and stood in front of the podium set up on the platform for Ice and Mav. But it was Rooster that made his father and young godfather turn and gasp at the man, the child they both knew all grown up.  

“We will let you get back to your class, but the first hop of the day will be between the older and younger Iceman and Maverick,” the older Iceman says. “Will see you up there.” The older Maverick says with a mystic light in his eyes, all the while with the excitement of a sugar-high toddler. 

Younger Tom’s Point of View.

The information that Viper just shared sounds crazy. But the older man in front of me is me. The four stars on his shoulders tell me that I will have a very successful career in the future. The one thing I can’t believe is that Maverick is not only still in the Navy but also in charge of a whole squadron. I will say this: Maverick and I do age very well. What scares me is the fact that I will be going up in the air with my future self. I’m sure to win. I am him, after all. What Ice forgets is that the older man has 30 years of experience and a wingman like Maverick.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

As soon as the class was over, Iceman and Maverick headed to their planes. They see, to their left, the older versions of themselves talking with Bradley and Jake. All of them were dressed in their flight suits. The aircraft behind them was, in Maverick’s mind, ‘beautiful’. Even Iceman was eager to get a look at the plane. All the while, Goose was looking at his adult version of his son.

Mav and Ice, after talking to Bradley and Jake, start getting ready, not even paying attention to who is around them. Just before they go up into the air, they do what they’ve done every time either of them flies. They hug, their foreheads pressed together. Nothing needs to be said, as peace settles over everything, and understanding exists between the two men. For over 30 years, they’ve never needed to say the most obvious words in the world. No one has ever spoken a word, even before DADT was still in effect. Everyone on the aircraft carriers where they were stationed believed this was a ritual the two of them performed before every mission or training exercise. It only lasts a minute, but to them, it means everything, so when they do it in front of their younger selves, it doesn’t matter at all. The younger one will get there eventually. That is all that matters.

Anyway, let us proceed.

The wide eyes of the younger ones make Ice and Mav smirk. They get into their F-18s and do their preflight checklist. They are the first to take off, after all. Then, the younger ones will be up right after them.

Up in the air

Mav is the first to talk on the joint radio. “Hello, good afternoon aviators. Today, we will be doing a dogfight maneuver. You will be up against a much more advanced aircraft. The main objective is to shoot or tone on me and my wingman. Do not go below five thousand feet of the hard deck. Guns only, no missiles. What you learn from this is to make sure you can out-maneuver while not getting targeted/toned.” Iceman interrupts Mav. “Unlikely.” “We shall see, as I was saying, if either of us gets a tone on you. You are dead.” Mav looks up at the two planes hovering above him. But Mav was not looking at the two F-14s; he was scanning for Ice. Ice, who was above them, was hidden in the clouds just out of view. “Let’s turn and burn.”

At that moment, Iceman and Maverick ask, “Goose, do you see them?” “Slider, do you see them?” The only answer they get is a firm ‘no.’ Five seconds later, a plane flies right between them. “SHIT” is yelled by all four men. The two pilots turn away from each other to avoid colliding. “Really, Mav.” Ice’s voice comes over the shared radio. “What?” Mav said with humor in his voice, “I had to get their attention. If I hadn’t, we would have already then in tone, and you know it.” And all that was heard after that was Ice’s sigh, but he did not refute the statement.

The fight was on.

Mav flies up and over to where Ice was hovering. “How long do you think it will take before they realize they don’t hate each other?” Mav asked Ice on their private channel. “A while yet. It did take us a while.” Mav sighs sadly. He remembers only getting close to Ice after Goose died. “Do you think we could save Goose?” “Mav, you know that we can’t. I know how hard this is for you, seeing him. Now let’s show them they are not the best yet.” “Oh, of course, high and low or confusing chatter?” Ice snorts, “Both.”

Ice and Mav reopen the channel.

Maverick and Iceman were still stunned by what the older Mav had done, along with Ice’s reaction to it. The two RIOs were trying to get their pilots to focus more. “Mav, I can’t see them,” Goose told Maverick. “Slider, do you see them?” “No, it’s like they disappeared.” That is when the voices of Ice and Mav joined the channel.

“I’m telling you, Ice, you need to stop letting Slider joke about the blond Maverick, especially around Jake.” “I know, but at least he hasn’t started calling him the IceMav yet.” They are interrupted by Maverick, who whispers, “Goose, can you tell where they are?” “No, it’s like they are nowhere on the radar.” “Well, that was rude. If you wanted to see us, all you had to do was ask,” Ice remarked. With that, Ice and Mav fly right over them. Ice heads up while Mav dives down. They don’t talk over the radio again, but what baffles Iceman and Maverick is that the older pilots work in sync. So, in a matter of minutes, Ice and Mav have them in tone.

Iceman and Maverick are angry, but it was more than that; the two younger pilots were so sure that they would win. They make it back to base. Their older selves had already landed, waiting for them.  

Back on the ground

Ice and Mav watch the two younger men heading their way. Ice can see the look in his younger self. He is furious. Goose sees Bradley behind them. “What the hell was that?” Maverick yelled. Iceman was just as angry with not only himself, but also with how good his older self and the older Maverick are. He was so sure that he would win.

“Ha, do not yell at them,” Bradley barks out. “Bradley” Mav started but was interrupted by Bradley. “No, Dad. I know he is the younger one, but that was uncalled for.” As soon as the words left Bradley’s mouth. He knew something was wrong when his father froze. With his eyes wide. “Shit.” Ice puts his hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “Go into the hangar. We will be in a minute.” “Thanks, Pops,” Bradley whispered to Ice. He speed walks back to the hangar.

Ice and Mav exchange a glance but look back at the younger men. Goose stammers, “What does he call you, Dad Mav?” Mav takes a deep breath. “Ice and I raised Bradley from the age of 8 after you and Carol died.” Maverick goes pale at this news alongside Iceman and Goose. Mav tells him, “I am sorry. I looked after our Baby Goose as I agreed when he was born. Ice and I would both do it again if we had to. Please believe that.” Goose looks sad, but he is happy that his son had someone there for him, even if it was not him or Carole. “You did a good job, Mav. Did we go together?” Mav shakes his head. Answering, but not at the same time.