Scott wasn't looking forward to the new exercise planned out for that day. He kept a tight grip on his helmet as he clipped it to his suit, letting it fall to rest alongside his leg. He saw Payback and Rooster were still getting suited up, so he decided to trail out of the room and nearer to the taxiway. He hesitated once he made it out the door, noticing Hangman leaning against the wall, toothpick in his mouth as he fastened his vest. He swallowed, following Phoenix's advice and moving to walk past him. Unluckily for him, Hangman looked up at the sound of his boots, his mouth slowly breaking out into a lazy grin.

"Hey, there Mouse." He said around his toothpick, moving the piece of wood to rest at the corner of his mouth.

Mouse kept walking, closing his eyes for a moment to steel his expression.

"Aw, come on!" Hangman jogged up to meet him, walking alongside him. Scott kept his eyes on the end of the seemingly long hallway, letting out a quiet sigh.
"Was it what I said about Mav?" He jested, tilting his head comically. "You're quite the daddy's boy, aren't ya?" He grinned.
"Or maybe you're a mommy's boy. Hey, where is mama Maverick? Did she not stick arou—"

Scott snapped at the insinuation, his right hand shoved into Hangman's chest while the other went to wrap around the collar of his flight suit, thrusting him into the side of the wall. A thud resounded through the walkway as the back Hangman's head connected with the hard wall.
"Say one more thing." Scott bit out as he moved his face in closer to Hangman's. His neck was craning up to meet the other's due to his height but he paid it no mind, the grip he had on the fabric of Hangman's collar tightening.

Hangman's smirk dropped, his face showing the unreadable expression that Scott couldn't make out the day prior. Scott's lip twitched in frustration, eyes darting to look at either of Hangman's own. He grew irritated that Hangman didn't put up a fight, dropping his hands to take a step back.
"I don't know why you've decided I'm your little toy to bat around, but you need to pick somebody else." Scott ordered, voice venomous as he kept his eyes on Hangman's.
"It's fucking pathetic." He said finally, before turning back around to walk down the hall. He didn't look back, but the deafening silence behind him must have meant Hangman stayed in his place.

-

Scott repeated the time to target, advising that they keep their speed. Hangman surprisingly listened with a gruff "copy." He looked back to the nav system, noticing a signal ping on his radar.

"What the hell," He muttered, looking to his left. "Who's that?" He asked quickly, noticing a jet.

"Red team, you've been spotted." Maverick muttered over comms.

"What's he doing here?" Payback said incredulously.

"I'm a bandit on course to intercept." Maverick explained easily. "What are you going to do?"

"He's on our left. Ten o'clock. 20 miles out, getting closer." Scott reported, resting his hand against the canopy as he leaned closer to watch his father's aircraft move in.
"What are we doing?" He asked quickly, growing anxious.

"Stay on target." Hangman said.

"He's banking right, coming our way." Scott warned.

"Stand by for pop up." Hangman voice over comms. "Get ready, Mouse."

"Copy," Scott muttered, grabbing at the control stick for the jet's laser.

"Red team, bandit it still closing." Maverick was kind enough to give them a warning.

"Popping up now!" Hangman shouted, Scott craned his head to the side to watch the jet in front of them soar further into the air, Payback's jet quickly following.

"Where's he at?" Payback asked, grunting in reaction to the g's.

"He's four miles out." Scott looked to the radar before eyeing the physical plane from out of the canopy.
"Where's the laser?" Hangman asked as they neared the target.

"Deadeye, deadeye." Scott muttered, immediately frustrated with himself.

"We don't have time for this." Hangman said quickly. "Dropping blind." Scott flipped around in his seat, watching the bomb hit the target straight on, he balled a fist in a small victory before turning back around to prepare for the upcoming 9 g's. They stayed in the formation for only a few seconds before a tone rang through their headsets.

"That's tone." Maverick spoke up.

"Missile lock." Mouse advised.

"Damnit!" Payback muttered, breaking formation to level out. Scott felt the force pounding into his skull dissipate. He took a deep breath, rubbing a hand up to wipe at his brow.

"That's a fail." Maverick said, halting his pursuit. Hangman let out an annoyed sigh into the comms.

"Head back to base." Their instructor ordered, moving to fly alongside Payback's jet while Hangman led the way.

"Shit," Mouse muttered softly to himself, feeling useless. He couldn't help but believe that if he advised his team better, they would have made it.

"Bird strike, bird strike!" Maverick shouted, causing Scott to eye his father's jet. The creature thankfully hit only the canopy but his relief didn't last long. It managed to be pulled into Payback's left engine, the pilot pulled back at the control stick as a warning light came on, blaring over their headsets.

"Left engine's on fire!" Scott turned in his seat, eyeing the smoke billowing in the air from behind them.

"Throttling back, shutting off fuel to left engine." Payback attempted to speak calmly, hand going over the switches robotically. "Extinguishing." The blaring noise stopped only for a moment before starting up again.

"Right engine, right engine's out!" Scott shouted, moving to look at the opposite side.

"Trying to restart it!" Payback shot back.

"Payback, it's on fire!" Maverick warned.

"Copy, throttling up." Payback stressed, moving away from Maverick's own jet. Their aircraft pulled up before immediately banking left and hurtling toward the ground.

"Get out of there!" Hangman yelled immediately.

"Shit, there's—there's," Scott watched the system, eyes widening at the warning lights. His breathing quickened, his chest tightening as he watched the ever nearing ground. He clutched at the constricting vest around him, breaths turning into eager gasps.

"Tell them to punch out!" Hangman directed toward Maverick, voice thick with anger.

"You can't save it, eject, eject!" Maverick ordered.

"Eject!" Payback shouted, but Scott stayed still, frozen arms unwilling to move. Payback pulled the command ejection for the rear seat, causing the canopy to fly off with Scott following soon after, before pulling his own.

Scott's neck snapped back at the force of the ejection, a carabiner from his unfurling parachute hitting him at the bottom of his orbital bone. He didn't react to the pain, blinking slowly as he eyed the nearing ground. He had half the mind when he landed to lay his legs properly so as not to break them, unclipping the carabiners to his chute as if on autopilot. The shock came full force when he sat down, eyeing the rocky incline of the mountain the jet crashed into. His gaze never left the crash site, his hands shaking as he watched the pile of metal burn.

"—ey, Hey," A hand at his shoulder caused him to surge backward with a shaky breath. The medic's hands moved to raise slightly in the air, showing he meant no harm.

"Let's get you checked out, alright?" He murmured, eyes looking over Scott's form. Scott nodded slowly after a moment allowing the medic to lead him to a nearby helicopter.

-

He eyed the juice box in his hands, scratching a fingernail lightly against the plastic wrap that kept the straw fastened to the side of it. Payback was cleared to go, but they were keeping Scott back a moment for a reason he was unsure of. They weren't telling him anything. His feet lay limply off the side of the bed as his grip tightened around the apple juice. They told him to lay down, but he in his half-aware state, decided against it, so they didn't fight him on it.

"Jesus," A voice murmured from the door. He looked up, blinking at the visitor. It was Hangman, his brain supplied for him slowly after a moment of confusion. The pilot walked into the room hesitantly, almost unsure of if he wanted to be there.
"Quite the shiner." He put an index finger to his cheek bone, just below his eye. Scott nodded his head, realizing what he was getting at. Hangman stopped to stand a foot in front of him, hands in his pockets as he looked down at Scott's still sitting form.

"Want me to open that for you?" Hangman moved a hand from the pocket of his jeans to point at the juice box still fastened in Scott's grip.

"Why're you here?" Scott said slowly, mouth dry as his brain tried to catch up. Hangman shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Scott watched him carefully, moving to take off the blanket from around his shoulders.

"I wouldn't do that." Hangman moved toward the heavy blanket. He grabbed at it, wrapping it tightly around Scott. He took a few steps forward, standing in between Scott's open legs as he kept a hand at either end, giving it only some slack as he made sure it stayed on the other man's shoulders.

"Why?" Scott asked quietly, eyebrows furrowing.

"You're in shock, pipsqueak." Hangman explained easily.

"Oh," Mouse said, expression still conveying his confusion. They remained like that for a moment, Hangman towering over Scott with his hands fastened into the fabric of the blanket, watchful eyes never leaving his form.

"Your shirt is inside out." Scott said dumbly, eyes slowly trailing down the seams of the pilot's t-shirt. Hangman didn't look down, shrugging his shoulders lightly, which caused the blanket to become taut, tugging Scott a little closer toward him.

"Lieutenant Scott Mitchell?" A voice spoke up as a man in uniform entered the room. Hangman let the blanket drop from his hands, taking a few steps back to allow Scott to see him.

"Yes?" Scott murmured, running a tired hand through his hair.

"Lieutenant Wells," He greeted quickly. "I was sent by Admiral Bates with some unfortunate news." He began slowly, looking between the two.

"Continue." Hangman waved his hand in a small rotation, slightly peeved by the way the messenger chose to leave them with baited breath.

"Admiral Kazansky has passed." Scott felt an invisible force punch him in the gut, causing him to slump forward, heaving out a shocked breath. "Captain Mitchell has been made aware." Wells nodded his head, moving to leave quickly.

"Oh my god. Oh my god." He began to mutter, face turning into an expression of confusion before ultimately morphing into guilt. Tears pooled in his eyes as he sniffed, forcing himself to keep them at bay.

Hangman shifted slightly, the rubber sole of his boot causing a small squeak. Mouse tuned in on it, remembering he was in the room with him.

"Why are you still here?" Scott shot out, eyebrows furrowing. He moved a hand to grip at the edge of the bed.
"You—you make my life a living hell and then you show up here with, what? A—A change of heart?" He asked incredulously. He let anger take over, which was much more easier to deal with than sadness.

Hangman took a step back, seemingly out of his element. His face gave way indecipherable emotions, and that made Scott even madder.

"Here we go. That stupid look on your face that I don't know what the hell means." He scoffed quietly, moving his head to the side. Surprisingly, Hangman didn't say anything back. No witty remark. Just silence. Scott wasn't sure which one he'd preferred. He tossed the forgotten juice box aside, along with the blanket, before standing up.
"You drive here? Take me to Maverick."