"Hangman, ease up." Payback grunted into the comms. "The canyon's getting tighter." Scott craned his head from behind him, eyeing the nav system with anticipation.

"Negative, Payback," Hangman said, annoyingly confident. "Increase you're speed." He ordered, accelerating quickly.

"You're going too fast, Hangman." Scott spoke up, irritated. "Our time is good." He eyed the countdown on his system.

"Well," Hangman's voice crackled in with a sure smile following it. "No harm in being ahead of schedule."

"Damnit, slow down!" Payback shot out. "I can't stay on the course." He bit out, leaning into his turns.

"You're gonna hit the wall! Watch out! Turn, turn, turn!" Scott quickly shouted over the warning beeping from the nav, eyes darting up to watch where they were going. Payback immediately banked right, but they were too late, colliding with the imaginary wall.

-

"What happened?" Maverick's eyes narrowing at Hangman's own from where he stood.

"Well, I flew as fast as I could." Hangman explained with a lazy smirk on his face. "Kind of like my ass depended on it." His smile widened.

"And," Rooster butted in, turning his head to look at Hangman from across the aisle, left hand held up near his face comfortably. "You put your team in danger and your wingman's dead." He supplied.

"They couldn't keep up." Hangman didn't look at Rooster, keeping his gaze on their instructor.

Surprisingly enough, Maverick said no more on the subject. Scott eyed the screen as the exercise results of Rooster's were displayed for everyone to watch over silently.

"Why are you dead?" Maverick turned to look at Rooster after the three minutes of footage. Rooster let his hand fall from his face, looking up from the screen to Maverick.

"You're team leader up there." Maverick explained as soon as they made eye contact. "Why are you, why is your team, dead?"

"Sir," Phoenix raised her head to keep her solemn expression trained on Maverick. "He's the only one who made it to the target." She supplied slowly.

"A minute late." Maverick reminded her, sighing after he did so. "He gave enemy aircraft time to shoot him down. He is dead."

"You don't know that." Rooster said immediately, cocking his head slightly to the side with defiant eyes trained on his instructor.

"You're not. Flying. Fast enough." Hangman enunciated every word loudly in annoyance. "You don't have a second to waste."

"We made it to the target." Rooster reminded his rival, pointing out the other pilot's failure to do so.

"And superior enemy aircraft made it to you on the way out." Maverick said.

"Then it's a dogfight." Rooster's eyes hardened, eyeing Maverick.

"Against fifth generation fighters?" Maverick asked incredulously, trying to get the younger pilot caught up in his seemingly ridiculous idea.

"Yeah, we still have a chance." Rooster responded easily.

"In an F-18?" Maverick voice rose an octave.

"It's not the plane, sir." Rooster reminded him. "It's the pilot."

"Exactly!" Maverick yelled. Everyone became silent, some sharing stunned looks with one another.

"There's more than one way to fly this mission." Rooster said after the moment.

"You really don't get it." Hangman shook his head, looking to Rooster.
"On this mission a man flies like Maverick here, or a man does not come back." He turned his head to look at Phoenix and Bob with a grin. "No offense intended."

Bob leaned forward, looking at him from around Phoenix. "Yet somehow, you always manage."

"Look, I don't mean to criticize," Hangman leaned back in his seat, turning his head to the side again to look at Rooster. "You're conservative, that's all."

"Lieutenant," Maverick warned immediately.

"We're going into combat, son." Hangman ignored the reprimand, continuing on. "On a level no living pilot's ever seen," He finally paid mind to Maverick, giving him a smirk. "Not even him."

Maverick's jaw set and his brows knitted together. He seemed overwhelmed, but Scott wasn't sure what he could do to help.

"That's no time to be thinking about the past." Hangman said cryptically.

Rooster's eyes narrowed into nothingness before setting his sights on Hangman, fist tightening from where it rest beside him. "What's that supposed to mean?" He murmured, voice hard.

"Rooster," Maverick tried.

"I can't be the only one that knows that Maverick flew with his old man." Hangman said to the room, smile still plastered on his face. "Or saw that little break up scene with him and Tiny." He nodded toward Mouse, who immediately clenched his jaw in subtle anger.

"Lieutenant, that's enough." Maverick tried to order.

"Or that Maverick was flying when his old man—"

"Lieutenant, that's enou—"

Hangman was quick, moving out of his seat just before Rooster bolted out of his, snarling as he shoved at Hangman. The other pilot allowed it, amused by the show of anger, he only jabbed his hands out to keep Rooster's arms from hitting his face.
Scott decided to intervene, grabbing at Rooster's shoulder, noticing Coyote doing much the same to Hangman. A stray elbow of Rooster's flew into his face, causing him to reel back at the heat that flowered violently throughout his face.

"That's enough!" Maverick shouted.

"Jesus Christ," Coyote muttered, eyeing Mouse's face.

"You son of a bitch!" Bradley jabbed his index finger in Hangman's as Bob pulled him away. Hangman's attention was elsewhere, looking straight through Rooster and locking his eyes onto Scott's nose. Scott held a hand to the pooling blood, leaning his head over so as not to have it fall onto his flight suit. Hangman surged forward, his arm darting out to help him, before pulling back quickly as if it burned. Scott watched the hand retreat through half-lidded eyes, head pounding dizzily.

Coyote's grip fastened at Hangman's shoulder tightened, which seemingly brought the other to reality.
"I'm cool. I'm cool." Hangman laughed easily, shrugging off Coyote's grip. "Hey, hey, hey." He placated.

"Stop. That's enough. That's enough." Maverick said quietly, shocked.

"Way to go." Hangman muttered, gesturing to Scott's sorry state. "Gave your boyfriend a black eye."

Maverick's gaze darkened immediately when he locked onto his son's face, eyes going up to meet with Rooster's.
"See Hondo for a hundred push-ups for starting a physical fight." He said before turning to fully face Hangman. "You get two hundred."

"What?" Hangman began with a shout. "I wasn't the one that hit your son." He pointed out in protest.

"Three hundred." Maverick bit out.

"He's not cut out for this mission." Hangman said finally, jutting his chin out toward Rooster.
"You know it." He made eye contact with his instructor. "You know I'm right."

Hangman looked nearly sorry as his eyes looked over Mouse's injury before stepping to stand in front of Rooster, face to face. His taunting eyes looked into the other pilot's furious ones before he moved to stalk out of the room.

"You're all dismissed." Maverick said quietly. Everyone moved to disperse, noticing the dark mood their instructor was in and quickly attempting to get away from it. Scott moved to follow, but a firm hand at his wrist made him stop, turning to look back at him.

"Here, Scott." His father leaned over to get a handful of tissues from the top of his desk. Scott made a move to grab it from his hand, but he Maverick pulled his arm away, giving him a look that he immediately acquiesced to. Scott tilted his head back, allowing Maverick to eye the damage. Maverick put a gentle hand at his chin, the other moving to dab gently at the swollen area. The bleeding was already ceasing without aid in clotting it, which Scott counted that as a good thing.

"I don't think it's broken." Maverick murmured. Scott hissed quietly as the tissue swiped across a particularly tender part of the injury. "Sorry," The other quickly apologized, sympathetic grimace on his face.

"Thanks, Dad." Scott said after a moment. The grip on his chin loosened, Maverick's eyes shifting from his nose to his eyes.

"Of course," Maverick said softly, clearing his throat. He let go of his son, stepping back to eye his handiwork. The dried blood had no sign of budging but Scott was more or less presentable.
"Go see somebody about that, alright?" He ordered, eyes looking back to examine Scott's nose.

"Alright," Scott murmured.

"I'm serious." Maverick narrowed his eyes.

"Okay," Scott raised his hands up in surrender. He gave his dad a parting smile before moving to grab his stuff from his seat. He turned around to see Maverick completely enthralled with his phone.
"Is that Ice?" He asked, moving back to stand in front of the other.

"Yeah," Maverick said, distracted. He typed out a quick reply before looking up. "I'm gonna go see him tomorrow. You coming with?"

"I think I'll sleep in." Scott shrugged, gesturing to his nose. Maverick immediately nodded in understanding before grabbing at his shoulder, pulling him in for a quick hug.
"Get some sleep." His dad ordered before he pulled away.