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SIX
mama goose
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☆.｡.:*　　.｡.:*☆

ONE summer's night, when she was just young enough to remember, Celeste's mother took her into the back garden to dedicate a star to Goose. Balanced on Wendy's hip, she had willingly looked to the skies as always, before listening to her request to find the brightest one there was; it was going to be for him. "Then whenever we look up at the sky, he'll have his special place up there," said Wendy to her daughter.

Little Celeste had found this a strange task at first — after all, even she knew that stars were just luminous balls of hydrogen and helium. Nevertheless, she followed her mother's instructions and pointed out a star at random. It wasn't the brightest star in the sky, but it was the most constant one: Polaris, the North Star. It was the one that never failed to appear every night, wherever she was, and perhaps that was better than being the brightest one of them all. Although she was far too young to remember him, Goose was somehow a constant in the children's lives, survived by vivid stories and his son. If she were to get really sentimental, it sometimes felt like he was watching over them from above.

... So Bradley isn't the only one who's just been hit where it hurt.

Caring not for who she leaves behind the double doors, Celeste jogs after him. Her skin still simmers with fury over Hangman's comment — everyone knows he likes to get a rise out of people, but that was a new low. She could barely look him in the eye afterwards.

"Bradley! Bradley, wait!"

He doesn't stop. It only takes her catching up, circling round in front of him and blocking his path for Bradley to halt, and even then he keeps his stare anywhere but where her own is. They both catch their breaths, whether from the jogging or being wound up by Hangman, as the air slowly smooths out their breathing again. Bradley's expression is still scarred with old wounds that have just been dug up again.

     "Are you okay?" she asks him.

     "Yeah, I'm fine," he responds curtly.

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure..."

     "Look, Hangman just likes getting a rise out of people. It was a dick move, obviously, but I'm sure tomorrow he won't even—"

     "Celeste..." Bradley places his hands on her shoulders, stilling her frustrated hand gestures slicing the air. His voice is so tight when he speaks that is trembles slightly. "I just... I really wanna be alone right now. Okay? It's not you, I promise."

Letting her go with a sigh, he brushes past her. Celeste turns with him like a planet orbiting the Sun, and watches him walk briskly down the hallway by himself until the pounding of his boots fades away.

Goose was always going to be a touchy subject — though she knows Bradley has never blamed Maverick for what happened. The Bradshaws and everyone close to them knew it had been a tragic accident, and the courts themselves cleared his name at the time for what happened. Nevertheless, Celeste can't begin to imagine the guilt that follows her commander around. She would never be able to shake it if the same thing happened to her, losing Quincy in a catastrophe like that.

     There will always be people you lose, her father had warned them going into the navy. It still doesn't prepare you for the day it actually happens.

She is still mulling over this far into the evening, back at home with her family after a long day's work. As Quincy goes to video call his wife upstairs, Celeste stays at the table with her parents — Wendy pours herself a glass of wine (a treat, she says with a smile) while Manny stalks around clearing things up. He has a history of getting like this when something preys on his mind, and he isn't short of those thoughts lately, what with approaching retirement more rapidly than ever. Still, that train of thought is about to be de-railed before he even knows it.

"What's on your mind, baby? You've been real quiet ever since you got home," Wendy asks her daughter, reaching across the table to hold her hand. She hasn't been the only one either, for even Quincy was sobered by today's training — whether it was the humbling by Maverick or the name of Bradley's father re-surfacing.

"I don't know..." Celeste sighs. "Do you guys ever think about Goose?"

Manny freezes in his tracks. Dishcloth hanging from his fingertips, he looks over his shoulder at Wendy, who is returning a similarly nostalgic glance. Sighing, he replies, "Of course we do. He was a good friend."

Celeste knows this to be true. He is brought up with fair ease around dinner time conversations, in a fun memory with Maverick or when talking about how much Bradley is the spitting image of his father. But no one ever likes to discuss that day if they can avoid it — the flight that went horribly wrong. So she tries to curtail this at first, thinking of the young man from the photographs.

"Sometimes I wish I could remember him," she admits.

"Oh, you'd have loved him," Wendy smiles. "In fact you did at the time. I think everyone loved Goose, really, even if they didn't do it openly or say it out loud. He was just... he was just a good guy."

Celeste looks to her father, feeling unusually sentimental about this now. "How was it you met again?"

Manny pauses for a moment, removing his glasses and polishing them with his sweater. Then he chuckles, lowering himself into the chair opposite Celeste, and replying: "Well, it was a long time ago. Back in '84, not long before you two were born, I was on duty during the holidays. I met Maverick that day too, but I'll admit, at the time I thought he was one cocky son of a bitch. Goose was the one I really clicked with at the beginning..."

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

December, 1984

Manny Sterling is usually a man of duty — after all, it's why he joined the navy. But knowing his heavily pregnant wife is at home, while he's stuck in the middle of the ocean with stocky aviators chanting Christmas songs, definitely stings a little. The holidays reminded him too fondly of the life he's starting back home. The one he's leaving behind every time he gets stationed somewhere. It had never been something he considered when he first signed up for the navy. Of course, when he first saw Wendy standing alone at a party one night, that changed everything.

Still, Wendy Sterling (he can't believe he can call her that now... Sterling) is always optimistic on the other end of the line, whenever he can make a call. "We miss you," she tells him, referring to the twins she is carrying month by month. On days when he gets little bits of news from home that, Manny walks along the aircraft carrier with a spring in his step. He's doing his dream job and he's starting his own family. What could there be to complain about?

     Unfortunately, today isn't one of those days. He's feeling rather miserable if he's perfectly honest. Manny would prefer some peace and quiet, snagging a table in the corner of the room on his own as he battles off a headache that started a couple days ago. Maybe he can get an early night and some decent rest before his flight tomorrow...

     But naturally he can't even get that. Two aviators welcome themselves to his table with trays of warm food each, engaged in their own bubble of conversation with laughter and boyish inside jokes that fly over his head. The helicopter pilot watches them both for a few moments, wondering if and when they're going to address his presence.

     "Yeah, this table's free," Manny finally deadpans.

The two guys glance over at him, their laughs quietening for a moment. "Thanks, man," the more mischievous-looking one replies, small in height but his green eyes glinting with rebellion.

"Hey, you're Gator, right? You're flying the choppers?" the other one asks.

"That's me," he just nods in response. It has become his nickname, something of a call-sign thanks to his Floridian roots — the stereotype wasn't helped at all by Manny offering an anecdote, in which an alligator showed up in his mother's back yard. Now that's going to follow him for the rest of his life in the navy...

"Goose," the man puts his hand out to shake, and Manny takes it. Goose is a little taller than his friend, with a generally kinder and less intense disposition. He is vaguely aware that he flies as RIO with the other more rowdy pilot, but has never had the chance to speak to him.

"And I'm Maverick," his companion adds.

"I know who you are," Manny scoffs, with a tinge of disapproval. "You sure know how to piss off every navy official out there."

Maverick grins, like a slit in his sharp features. "I just like keeping them on their toes."

As the pilot gets up to re-fill his drink, the Sterling boy fights the urge to roll his eyes. He is left alone with Goose at the table, as other pilots break out into rowdy impromptu karaoke of festive Dean Martin songs. A pang of longing hits Manny hard in his chest — a memory triggered of his wife hanging tinsel around the doorways of their house in Jacksonville — prompting him to reach into his breast pocket. Between his fingertips, held like something sacred, he unearths a small square polaroid that he can squint at. In it, Wendy is stood at the edge of a ship's edge, her arms folded over the railing. Manny took it without her knowing. He loves everything about it, from the sunlight bringing out her skin's golden undertones, to the serene look in her russet brown eyes staring out.

     It sometimes makes him think that somewhere, back home, she's looking over the ocean back at him.

     ... And if Wendy ever knew he thought of something so romantic (or 'sappy' in his own hypocritical words), she would never let him hear the end of it.

     "Who's that?" Goose suddenly asks, breaking him out of his trance; it comes with a hint of understanding, like he can take an educated guess that it's a loved one.

     "It's my wife," Manny sighs, handing the picture over for him to look at. "She's pregnant right now. Twins."

     "Twins? Shit, good luck with that, my friend... she's beautiful though."

     "She sure is."

     Goose hands the picture back, seeming sentimental himself. "I get it, these detachments are tough. I've got a wife and kid back home too."

     "Really? How old's your kid?"

     "Bradley was born in June," Goose recounts fondly, grinning happily as he fiddles with his small crucifix chain that keeps catching the light. "Man, I can't wait to go home and see him again. And my wife Carole. I miss them... hey Gator, maybe we should get your kids and mine to meet someday."

     "If we ever get out of this damn ship? Then yeah, sure," Manny allows himself to laugh for the first time today.

     The conversation between them evolves, and soon Goose has him chatting away about his life and why he joined the navy. Even when Maverick joins, the three of them are able to have a good time together. The friendship solidifies and carries through into the months afterwards, staying in touch even outside of their official duties. Goose is even one of the first to congratulate the Sterlings, when they bring two twins into the world in the February of '85.

To them, Gator becomes Manny. To him, Maverick and Goose become Pete and Nick.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

July 28th, 1986

But if Manny thought he was good enough friends with Goose and Maverick, Wendy swept his cards off the table completely. They loved her — in fact, everybody that they knew loved her. It was difficult not to, with her generosity and approachable demeanour. Carole Bradshaw had a similar effect on everyone, in that she was like Wendy but pumped with about ten times more energy; she used to practically bounced off the walls with positivity and charisma. The two ladies were as thick as thieves in no time.

     They have also met each other's children. Bradley was slightly on the shy side, but cheerful and fascinated by his dad's job nonetheless. A few months after Quincy and Celeste were born, Maverick and Goose swung by to meet them while they were passing through town. Quincy was never difficult in meeting new people, gurgling and giggling in the arms of whoever held him (especially Maverick). Celeste, however... wasn't so easy. Besides her own parents, she was mistrustful of anyone else holding her, going rigid with lips trembling whenever she was handed over.

     On the day they met the Sterling twins, Celeste was particularly turbulent, Wendy unable to stop her crying (and dreading if Quincy would follow in his sister's footsteps and well up too).

     "Can I hold her?" Goose had asked, after a few minutes of cooing from the Sterlings and Bradshaws together.

     "You sure? She might throw a tantrum," Wendy chuckled wryly, unable to mask how exhausted she was.

     "They call me Goose for a reason..."

     She'd laughed, looking to Maverick. "What, like Mama Goose? Really?"

     "That's what he likes telling himself," the pilot replied smugly. "But that's not how he really got his call-sign. It was more like silly goose—"

     "Hey, we– we don't need to tell her that," Goose quickly shook his head at his friend, a glimpse of embarrassment striking his face. The story that got him his call-sign was always delayed for as long as he could get away with it. Soon he'd turned his attention back to the crying baby, extending his arms out to Celeste. Wendy had obliged, merely wishing him good luck as he took her into his arms...

Then a miracle happened.

     Sitting her down on his lap at first, Goose holds Celeste gently underneath her chubby arms, cooing all sorts of things to her — the girl fell completely silent. Her face had warped into one of slight bewilderment at first, in awe at the mystical power this stranger seemed to have over her. She stared intensely at Goose as he made funny faces and whispered things to her. Eventually, she gave in to his embrace and relaxed, going so far as to fall asleep in his arms.

Jaws slackened, Wendy and Manny had both watched it all unfold in complete awe (and admittedly jealousy). They had no idea how he did it, or why she responded to him over any other stranger. But Goose had just looked up at them fondly, leant back with the sleeping Celeste's cheek squashed on his chest, and whispered with a smile: "Told ya... Mama Goose."

     By the time the summer of '86 has rolled around, the lives of the three aviators crossing over again at TOPGUN in Miramar, their children are growing up. On the flight that takes them to the base in sunny California, Carole chatters lovingly to a two year-old Bradley, back when his hair was closer to blonde. Meanwhile Wendy has the tougher task of juggling two seventeen month-old twins on their first flight — Quincy is always a tank of boundless energy, if not a little loud at times, while Celeste stays quietly sceptical of every passenger around her, ready to express her discomfort at any given moment.

Their kids only met for the first time yesterday. Wendy and Carole still find themselves remembering the sweetness of Bradley following Celeste around the back yard, the latter not being totally comfortable walking yet. He explained later on in toddler gibberish that he wanted to make sure she didn't fall over.

"I'm telling you, he's gonna protect her forever!" Carole laughs, her sun-tanned shoulders shaking as she does.

"It was definitely very sweet," Wendy grins, looking down at Celeste who seems to be none the wiser, even with her eyes open like saucers.

"Oh, I can just see it... years from now, I'll be watching Manny walk her down the aisle to my Bradley to say their vows."

"Carole!"

"What? A girl can dream, can't she? At least I know I'd have great in-laws..."

Wendy gives her hand a squeeze of gratitude, which the blonde returns even tighter. Their companionship has been one of the most special things for her — Carole can empathise more than anyone with the constant, underlying anxiety over having their other half in the forces. There is overwhelming pride too, of course, but she simply can't shake the worry either. There have been days where Wendy waits for a call that Manny's gone... and on those days, she always knows she has Carole to confide in.

     Luckily, neither of them have had to face the unthinkable.

     The moment the plane touches down, Wendy's heart swells with eagerness at reuniting with her husband. "Here Quincy, take my hand, your mama's got her hands full," Carole offers, grabbing the energetic boy's chubby fingers as Bradley trails in front. It leaves her to focus instead on carrying Celeste on her hip, the toddler's head nestled between her jawline and her shoulder.

"You ready to see your daddy?" Wendy whispers to her.

Celeste barely reacts, although her mother knows her feelings will catch up to her. She presses a small kiss to her daughter's temple and squints as they step out onto the tarmac outside. In the distance, she can see the faint outline of three familiar men walking towards them.

"DADA!" Quincy abruptly hollers, breaking free from Carole's grip and charging head-on towards his father. Manny kneels down and wraps his son in his arms, squeezing him tight. Then he notices his wife holding the quieter, more careful twin, who has now noticed him in the distance and reaches out longingly for him in elation.

"Come here, baby..." Manny smiles encouragingly at Celeste. A huge (mostly toothless) grin plastered across her face, she starts taking steps that grow less and less cautious the nearer she gets to her father. When she is near enough, Manny scoops her up and spins around with her in his arms, saying how much he missed her. Wendy is soon at his side, the twins between them as they share a quick kiss and refuse to let go of each other.

Beside them, other reunions are going on too. Carole runs animatedly towards Goose, crashing into his arms with a passionate kiss as the bouquet of flowers he gave her dangles from her fingertips. Then when Bradley excitedly greets him, Goose gifts his son with a small model plane and lifts him up in his arms, showering him with kisses all the way up...

It's easy to notice how Maverick is left out by the reunions. Watching him over the shoulder of her husband, Wendy observes him standing at the side-lines and decides to do something about it. "It's good to see you, Mav," she grins, walking over and kissing his cheek before giving him a hug.

"Always good to see you too," he hugs her back. "I can never make Manny smile the way you can. Otherwise he's miserable."

At this, she lightly nudges his shoulder with a chuckle. "He's just making sure you behave. Someone has to... apart from Goose, I mean."

The families all now reunited, they head away from the tarmac having collected their luggage. The Sterlings carry a twin each, while Maverick has Bradley balanced on his hip, and the Bradshaws keep their hands intertwined. That's when Carole, in true Carole-Bradshaw-fashion, decides to drop a bomb on them all: "So Maverick," she yells over the loud jet engines nearby, "Goose tells me you're in love with one of your instructors!"

Everyone freezes for a moment; Wendy's jaw drops, while Goose goes white like a deer in headlights, and the other two aviators shoot him a knowing look. "Is that right?" Maverick just responds with a slightly embarrassed grin, shaking his head at his RIO before walking off with Bradley.

"I– wha– I didn't tell her that..." Goose begins to stammer.

"Yes you did!" Carole beams back.

"I can't believe I said that, that was a secret!" he chides, both of them laughing into each other's lips as he presses another kiss to hers.

Wendy knows she has to hear more about this. She not only gets the whole story later on, but actually meets the instructor herself — Charlotte 'Charlie' Blackwood, tall and smartly dressed with eyes as piercing as the ocean and blonde hair to her shoulders. Having been so used to Maverick flinging himself at ladies over the years, she is surprised to notice how smitten the two of them seem with each other. Not to mention Charlie seems intelligent and comfortable with herself. Dare she use the L word to describe the two of them?

     A few hours later, they're sat around for lunch at a local diner. Goose has taken residency at the piano with Bradley sat at the top, his little legs dangling over as he tries to sing along to his father's enthusiastic rendition of 'Great Balls Of Fire'. The rest of them sit at the table, Wendy holding Celeste (who keeps trying to grab Charlie's shirt) and Manny reigning in Quincy, as Carole laughs at her husband's antics and playfully nudges Maverick.

     "Maverick, won't you go fetch him?!" Carole laughs, bouncing her knees energetically. "Doesn't he ever embarrass you?"

     "Goose? Hell no," Maverick replies with his arm around her. "Well, there was the time—"

     "With the Admiral's daughter!" she interjects and nudges him in the rib.

     "Oh, it's all coming out now..." Wendy chuckles, shooting Charlie a knowing glance, who seems amused by the whole thing.

     "He told me all about the time you went ballistic with Penny Benjamin."

     "Did he?"

     "There was no way you deserved her," Manny just smiles with a shake of his head, having met Penny himself and struggling to match up the idea of her being swept off her feet by such a character.

     "He tells me about all of 'em, Maverick," Carole continues, not caring if her mouth keeps moving without much thought. "How my little angel Goose goes home early for church, and you... you always go home with the hot women—"

     "Alright, thanks Carole, I'm gonna go embarrass myself with Goose for a little while," the pilot swiftly slides out of the conversation, but not before stealing a quick glance at Charlie, whose lips are pursed into a curious smile. Maverick also goes to pluck Manny off the couch, claiming he "knows he wants to" as he makes him join Goose at the piano to sing along. Wendy watches the spectacle like it's a theatre play, left alone with the ladies on the couch.

     "You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain, too much love drives a man insane, you broke my will, but what a thrill... goodness gracious, great balls of fire!"

     While trying to stop Celeste from eating Charlie's finger, Wendy asks, "So how're you finding things with Maverick? Genuinely, I mean. 'Cause all jokes aside, he's got a lot of love to give."

     "I mean, there's only so much we can do right now, with our position, but... I really like him," Charlie grins back.

     In a fit of giggles, Carole adds, "I would love to warn you off about Maverick, but I just love him to death... you know, I've known Pete for a lot of years now, and I'm telling one thing's for certain — there are hearts breaking wide open all over the world tonight."

     "Why?"

     "Because unless you are a fool... that boy is off the market! He is one hundred percent, prime-time in love with you."

     "You really think so?" Charlie asks, looking to the calmer of the two women for clarity. Although the width of her smile suggests she would like to believe it already.

     Wendy just shrugs, bouncing Celeste on her lap. "I mean, I haven't seen him like this before..."

     "Oh, Wendy, come on! Always so humble..."

     "Someone has to be around you, Mrs. Bradshaw."

     After the laughter subsides, Carole sits up in the booth and suddenly hollers so the whole room can hear: "Hey Goose, you big stud!"

     "That's me, honey," Goose replies, his aviator shades slipping down his nose.

     "Take me to bed or lose me forever."

     "Show me the way home, honey!"

     The energy of the Bradshaws is infectious — Carole drags the other two women up to the piano, Charlie fitting herself into Maverick's arms while Wendy sits Celeste gently on the piano next to Bradley (although Manny keeps her upright the whole time with a steady hand). Quincy is on Goose's lap absolutely delirious from all the enthusiasm in the room, as the grown-ups sing along in exaggerated southern twangs:

     "You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain, too much love drives a man insane, you broke my will, but what a thrill... goodness gracious, great balls of fire!"

     Going to bed that night, it had been a great afternoon. All of them felt it — whether it was the Sterlings after putting the twins to bed, the Bradshaws staying up late in each other's arms, or Maverick and Charlie riding into the night on his motorbike. It was a day enveloped with a golden lining, something that felt impossible to touch or taint...

     Of course, nothing good lasts forever.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

July 29th, 1986

Manny was on duty when they got the call — there had been a terrible mishap during the TOPGUN training. One of the F-14s had been sent into a flat spin after getting caught in someone's jet wash, heading out to the open water. The search-and-rescue team were dispatched in a heartbeat.

     He hadn't expected it to be anything brutal. It was only training. They picked up ejected pilots all the time. Even if they had some bruising or injuries from the force of ejection, he never anticipated anything worse than that. Manny sat in the cockpit as usual, his ears ringing with the white noise of the rotor blades above him. The paramedics and divers were squatted ready behind them as they scanned the open waters for any signs of floating pilots.

     Suddenly, in the landscape of blue, there had been the giant shadow of a submerged parachute. Two people were visible there. That was when Manny's heart had dropped into his stomach.

     "Oh, God..." he whispered as they got closer.

     As the breeze from the helicopter parted the waters, he could see it all too clearly — Maverick floating on his back, holding onto his RIO for dear life. As for Goose, he wasn't moving. No shivering, no screaming, nothing. Only the rolling waves lulling the two aviators did anything to make him move. It wasn't good from the start.

     Manny doesn't remember drawing breath in the minutes that followed. From the cockpit, he can recall the diver pleading with Maverick to let him go. He can still feel the grim gut-punch when he saw Goose being hoisted up into the helicopter, limp as a rag doll. The conversations behind him hadn't been optimistic from the get-go, and it was impossible to get a glimpse of his friend the minute paramedics swarmed him, searching for any way to keep him hanging on.

     At one point, Manny made the mistake of looking back — he was met with the picture of blood pouring down Goose's face from beneath his helmet, his chest completely still despite the desperate chest-compressions and rescue breaths of the paramedics. Pumping, pumping, pumping. No sign of life whatsoever. The image has never failed to haunt him since.

     He learned the second half of the story on the way back. The canopy failed to lift completely when the two of them ejected. Maverick got lucky, but Goose shot up head-first into the canopy. Everyone kept telling him before and ever since that "at least it was fast" for him. As if that made it any better...

     Goose was declared dead before they even touched ground.

     Goose... no, Nick was gone.

     A father, a husband, a friend.

     The toll it took on everyone was immense and everlasting. Maverick was saddled with crippling guilt, a burden Manny thinks he still carries to this day, even if the courts cleared him of any wrongdoing. Carole, naturally, was inconsolable. Bradley was too young to understand, but that little boy could still sense more than people gave him credit for. Wendy lost one of her dearest friends that day, and so did Manny.

     "There will be others," was the phrase Manny had always been told.

     And his superiors were right. Goose was the first time he watched a friend die, and it wasn't the last either.

     Some better things came out of it, though. When Maverick was in the depths of despair, even turning away from his training, Manny was one of the ones who tried to pull him through. The two had managed to set aside their differences and, since then, found a greater understanding of each other. By the time they had been matured by life's blows and the passage of time, they were the closest of friends.

     The grief still stretched out into the years after '86. Carole never blamed Maverick for any of it, and neither did her son — but something died in her the day she lost her Goose. The spark she'd always had was stamped out, replaced by a vacant sadness that would slip into even her happiest moments after then. It was never easy for Bradley to grow up with, who lost the father he struggled to remember once he got older. He grew quieter, more cautious, and too weary with responsibility for such a young man. Even if he didn't realise it, the difference in his character to Manny and Wendy was heartbreaking. And then when Carole got sick...

     Manny found himself remembering that phrase again:

     "There will be others."

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

There will be others. Sobering words that Celeste is always left with, whenever her father speaks to her about his harder times in the navy. But all these years, she never actually knew he was the one who flew the search-and-rescue helicopter to Goose and Maverick on that dreaded July 29th. The cloud his death left hangs over everyone, even those who were too young to remember.

     Still... Celeste always feels a warmth whenever Goose is mentioned. Like a memory she cannot see, but feel. Sometimes she wonders if that's how Bradley feels too.

     Spread out on her bed, her phone held to her chest, she stares at the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling. Her fingers stroke her phone case contemplatively — from everything her parents have just recounted, to the heartache of watching Bradley walk away from her upset and alone... Celeste can't help but do something she should really do more often. She scrolls to his name in her contacts, hits the Call button and waits patiently for him to pick up.

     A mere couple of rings later, she can hear the tinny sound of his voice in her ear. "Hi," he says.

     "Hey..." she trails off.

     "Is everything okay?"

     "What, I can't call you just to say hi?" To her relief, the line crackles with a short burst of his laughter. "No, I– I just... wanted to see how you were. You know, after... today."

     She hears him sigh. "Thanks. I'm okay, you know. I guess I've got bigger things to worry about than Hangman."

     "I know you do. Doesn't mean it didn't hurt though."

     "Yeah... hey, where are you?"

     Classic Bradley Bradshaw deflection tactics. She knows it all. Still, Celeste goes along with it to begin with. "I'm in my room."

     "What, like your room when you were a teen?"

     "Yep. I'm lying on my bed and looking up at those glow-in-the-dark stars."

     "Holy shit, I remember them. You seriously still have those?" Bradley asks incredulously.

     "Hell yeah!" Celeste replies in a heartbeat. "I wish I had some back home in my room, it's so boring there."

     As the harmony of their reminiscent giggling dies down, she grows serious again, tugging on the strings of her hoodie.

     "Bradshaw... you know you're deflecting, right?"

     The heaviest sigh she has ever heard plummets down the line. She hears a creaking sound, like he's sitting down on a chair. When Bradley finally speaks, his voice sounds so small:

     "Look, I've never blamed Maverick for what happened to Dad. You know that."

     "Oh, yeah, of course."

     "I just... I don't know..."

     Bradley may not know how he feels, but she thinks she has an idea. He's hung up over those pulled papers. Since their small break-through on the beach last night, it feels like his doors are open again, or at least for her eyes only. Celeste can get a better read on him once more... and it probably goes the other way too. Scary, but reassuring.

     "Are you going to hate Maverick forever?" she asks him.

To anyone else, her question would probably come off as far too abrupt, but Bradley has been used to them for many years. If Celeste feels like being honest, she has no problem doing that — most often with anything that isn't about her. Still, he struggles to find the right words, and she doesn't expect him to immediately. Maybe the main aim is that he asks himself the question.

"You know..." says Celeste carefully, "I'm no expert in emotions. I can't tell you what to do. I can just tell you what I see, which is that you wouldn't hate Maverick so much if you didn't love him first. And... I think you might've forgotten that."

"Yeah... maybe..."

A silence passes between them.

She asks him another question, this time one she's more nervous about, since it might still be a raw subject from earlier. "I was talking to my parents about your dad tonight," she tells him, "and we got talking about when our moms came to visit our dads at TOPGUN. You know, the whole 'Great Balls Of Fire' story... I'm sure you've heard it a thousand times."

"Yep," says Bradley, popping the p.

"But do you actually remember anything from that day? We were so young... I definitely can't remember anything from that specific moment."

He goes quiet, and for a minute she thinks she'll never get a reply. Then he finally responds, "I don't think I remember it in much detail. But I know whenever I've heard that song or played it, it triggers something. I don't know... like a feeling. Still, I remember some stuff. Like, I can't picture the memories, but they're kind of there somehow."

"You do? Which ones?"

     "I remember my dad hugging me, and feeling kind of sick on the flight to base. And I... I mean, honestly, I remember more about the day after that. You know, when Dad was gone..."

     "Yeah... I know."

"And I remember you."

Celeste's heart skips a beat, and she doesn't know why. "... Me?"

"Yeah," the smile in his voice is crystal clear. "Apparently that was the first time we met. I have this kind of fuzzy memory of watching you stomp around the back yard, and it's one of the earliest memories I have."

     Her fingers wind tightly around her hoodie string, the coil sealing off her fingertip. Then she releases it, just like the knot of butterflies in her stomach, and says with as much apathy as she can: "Well, that's too bad, 'cause I don't remember you at all."

     "Celeste! I'm offended," he feigns an heartbroken gasp.

     "I'm surprised you can even remember that much. But hey, did you know some kids might be able to remember their past lives?"

     "Wait– what?"

     "No, for real! I saw a documentary once, and they think kids between the ages of two and five—"

     "This is getting too fuckin' weird, I'm going to bed."

     "Alright, alright..." Celeste snickers and rolls onto her front, holding the phone gingerly to her ear. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow at training?"

     "I'll see you. I..." Bradley trails off, the words suddenly catching in his mouth, before he eventually coughs. "Uh, yeah, just get a good night's sleep."

     "Yeah, you too. G'night."

     Celeste's thumb brushes the red button to hang up, sucking his voice out of the room. But some of him still lingers, as she rolls onto her back again and lets the freed coils of her hair sink into her pillow. There's that feeling again... the one where she feels like she is treading too close to a line, one she is afraid to cross. It keeps nagging her now, as she is suddenly met with the insatiable thought about what it would feel like to have him lying next to her.

     More and more, she struggles to find reasons not to cross it.

☆.｡.:*　　.｡.:*☆

AUTHOR'S NOTE

well, that was an emotional rollercoaster, wasn't it?? this is basically my mental state at the time of finishing this chapter:

also i'm very aware that i probably switched tenses (past/present) in this chapter like you would tv channels, but different tenses just felt right for different scenes, so that's just on me being ✨indecisive✨

all jokes aside, i hope you enjoyed this little interlude! it's rather different from the rest of this story, but i wanted to somehow pay tribute to the original top gun movie, specifically goose because he was the highlight and my favourite character from it — his death still absolutely crushes me. to me it felt like one of the most 'realistic' death scenes in a movie, by how sudden it was and how these accidents happen sometimes. it added so much depth to the original movie that i wasn't ready for... i thought i was in for a fun testosterone-charged movie with young pilots 🥲 but anyway, i also enjoyed writing about manny and wendy! love them so much 💞

next chapter we're back to the central story though, and we're getting THE iconic scene from top gun: maverick... any guesses as to which one? 😉

──

published: march 30th, 2023