𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱𝐯𝐢 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

❝ 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐬 ❞

✈ ✈ ✈

THE SERVICE THAT WAS ORGANIZED BY BRADLEY IN SUCH A SHORT TIME WAS ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL.

It was the perfect way to honor the angel on earth, known as Carole Bradshaw. Faith had met the woman when she had visited Bradley's home for the first time after the accident, as a reason to say hello to him and just see him. The woman had been nothing but sweet to her, wanting to make her tea and talk about training. Faith had waved her off, telling her that she'd bug Bradley if she wanted something, to which Carole had just chuckled, immediately liking the younger woman.

That one meeting with Carole was enough to tell Faith that she was an absolute beauty of a woman, inside and out. She'd always converse with Carole whenever Bradley was on call with her, in fact the older woman would always ask to speak to her and they'd spend their time talking about Bradley, Goose, and her Uncle Maverick. Carole, besides Natasha was also the only person who she'd told that she was actually a Kazansky in their first meeting itself, and the older woman had vowed to keep her promise.

White daisies, Carole's favorite flowers were strewn all around her grave, the raindrops falling from above giving her name a shine, and bouquets of roses were placed by it. The funeral had ended an hour ago, and Bradley hadn't said a word, disappearing from the crowd. Faith had stood by him the entire time, watching him and holding him as he leant against her to stand up, otherwise his knees would buckle, and he'd fall to the ground.

Faith found him standing by the grave, and she'd just watched as he stood, staring down at his mother's name, now beside his father's. He had stood in the rain for an hour, wordlessly gazing down at the graves, completely soaked in the rain. She said nothing as she took a few steps closer to him, her own tears in her eyes at this sight of him.

Faith slowly brings her hand and places it on Bradley's shoulder as she holds the umbrella over both of them. She says nothing, mimicking Bradley to stare down at the graves. She rubs her hand up and down his arm.

Bradley turns his head to the side as he looks at her.

Numb.

He looks down at her as she looks back at him, and leans forward, pulling her into his arms. She wraps her vacant arm around Bradley's neck as she holds him close. And he breaks in her arms. Like a million pieces of glass fall, Bradley falls too, drowned by his mournful loss. First, his father, then his mother.

His body shakes with each sob he lets out, and he holds her tighter, wrapping both arms around her back as he pulls her to his chest. Faith lets go of the umbrella in her hand, not at all minding the rain falling, Bradley needed to be held. Her eyes open as she wraps both hands around his neck, pulling his head closer into her neck.

Standing at Bradley's six, and at her twelve, Maverick. Faith's eyes find her uncle's and she looks at him with a heavy coat of sorry splattered on her face as she holds Bradley with an even tighter grip. Pete's eyes are full of tears at the sight of his godchild and niece as he breaks in her arms. Faith knows her uncle wants to be in her spot and comfort Bradley for his loss, but with what he had done just four years ago, he knew Bradley wouldn't let him.

But Pete wants to try to make amends. A step he takes in their direction, but Faith shakes her head the slightest bit as she refuses Pete to come closer to Bradley, because she knows that if he came any closer, Bradley would scream and shout, and she didn't want him to have another reason to break down again. Yes, they both have lost their entire family, but they lost each other first. Bradley held a deep grudge still against Pete, and there was no forgiving on at least his part, at least this time. Maybe some other time, they could stand side by side as family.

Pete brings the leg he'd put forward back by his other, nodding at Faith. She mouths to him, "I'm sorry." Pete gives a single nod, turning his back against them, as he walks out of her peripheral. Faith drove Bradley to his home in utter silence.

He spoke not a single word to her, and at first she thought he was still in shock. But as she made a move out of her car to the backseat to grab her overnight bag to stay over at his home if he needed her just in case, he stopped her by placing a hand on her wrist. He shook his head, a silent request for her to just go back to her own home. Faith could only watch through the rain as he left her standing outside with her duffle in her hands as he entered his house and shut the door behind him loudly.



✈ ✈ ✈

IT WAS WEDNESDAY ALREADY.

It was the day of the finals, and Faith was scared to death. All this time, since the beginning of training, her name was at the top of the list, followed by Natasha and Bradley, then Hangman and the others. Even when she has the literal Admiral of the Pacific Fleet as her mentor, and Pete Maverick Mitchell as her uncle, she was nervous.

Bradley... he'd been distant ever since the funeral. They talked less, walked around with each other less, were less close with each other. He'd stopped sitting next to her during training, and he was the first person to leave class everyday, without a single word. Faith was hoping she'd have a chance to talk to him and apologize if he ever felt like she crossed a boundary, but the finals had been the only thing on her mind.

And it was the only thing she could afford to keep on her mind. So she let Bradley go. For now. She was with him, how he was with her. Giving him the silent treatment, a simplistic nod when her eyes met his, pulling away from his electric touch whenever he stood next to her as they saluted their superiors. But it was confusing. Everything would end soon. Should she tell him? Or not? Would it be awkward with the timing? Maybe she should tell him after. Yeah, that'd be proper. Right?

Right.

"Lieutenant Wilson! I hope you're listening." Hurricane gives her a scolding look. Faith simply nods, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her fingers at the sudden attention. Jake replaced Bradley's usual seat by her side. Ever since Bradley had been distant, Jake had seemingly wanted to take his place these past few days, always sitting by her side, and cracking the most stupid dad jokes, finding any chance to sit by her side even at the cafeteria, slipping into the game of pools Natasha, Bob, and her would play.

Oh, and, Hangman had been assigned as the Archer's Wingman. Yep. Hangman, as her wingman. So fun.

"You've all been briefed on your simulation. Since day one, everyone here has proved that they can be the best of the best. This real world simulation will be your chance to prove that you are the best, of this entire group. Good luck." And with a simple nod, and lingering eyes on his best students, everyone moved onto the hangar, hands occupied by their gears, and their aviators on their faces.

Archer walked beside Phoenix and Payback, her and the man who never pays back nerd-ing off about specific maneuvers and mechanics. Phoenix was busy rolling her eyes at the pair from under her aviators with a smile.

"Archer." All of a sudden, someone calls off. That someone, she knew exactly who. But right now, was not the time for this. So she kept on moving forward, even though her friends stopped in their tracks for a second, looking back at the man behind them, then the woman walking in front of them.

But she didn't stop. Neither did he. So, he spoke out even louder, "Faith." She didn't stop walking towards her plane, eyes focused on her jet and chills running down her spine.

Bradley curses to himself, trailing several steps behind the woman, his helmet in one hand and gear in the other. He stops in his tracks when he says her name the second time, a quick flash of arrogance in his eyes as he yells out for the third and final time, making a decision to give up if she didn't look back at him.

"Lieutenant Wilson!" He pulled the goddamn rank card on her. So she stopped walking. A second she took to take in the depth of anger in his words, and voice, before she turned around with a stern look on her face, her jaw clenched as she mutters in the slightest bit of annoyance at his timing, "Lieutenant Bradshaw. What?"

The arrogance had been long replaced by pain, as Bradley couldn't find the right words, "I- I just want to- I just wanted to say that..."

He's cut off by their Commanding Officer yelling, "Wilson, Bradshaw! Get your asses in your jets." The pair share a glance, their mouths open to speak but no words sputter out as she sighs dejectedly, shaking her head to look down and running her way to her jet.

Hangman stood patiently waiting for her by his own jet which was conveniently by Archer's. He catches up with her as she rushes her way to the F/A-18, "You ready, Wilson?" The woman simply smirks, her interaction with Bradley thrown towards the back of her mind.

"Higher, further, faster, baby." The daredevil duo share smirks, him offering her his hand as support as she climbs up the ladder. She just smiles at him in thankfulness, offering him a quick salute which he returns on his way to his jet, his front to her. Faith tries to ignore the burning gaze of Bradley as he watched her interact with Jake out of the corner of his eye, as he sat in his jet, merely in front of the pair.

Archer puts her helmet on, her mask hanging off to the side as she checks the control after beginning the engines. A quick thumbs up is thrown by the crew by her jet, and she sets it off on the taxiway after clear orders from Control tell her and her partner of their opportunity to go first.

In the air, they soar higher and faster, ready for combat than they've ever been. This is the chance. This is the one chance each and every one of them has to prove it to not only their superiors or their country, but themselves. A chance to prove that they were the best of the best and are now going to soon be at the top of the world, if not just figuratively. A chance to prove they were ready for war. To fight the war, to defeat the enemy, to come back home.

"Aviators. This is hop 49. Multiple aircraft, multiple bogies. Your training's over. The competition for the Top Gun trophy is tighter than ever. First place, Archer. Second place, Phoenix, barely two points." Hurricane's voice is absent of the usual tiniest bit of sternness for his students, instead replaced by a relenting, in fact, they'd find him smiling a lot more. Maybe he was happy the current batch would be leaving soon.

"There they are, Arch. Three miles, left, 10 o'clock. I don't think they see us yet." Hangman warns on the radio as his jet stood by Archer's.

Archer turns her gaze to observe the bogeys, before muttering, "Alright, I see 'em. Two F/A-18's, left, 10 o'clock level, continue left turn." She orders to Hangman, who barely looks in her direction to nod at her directness, before pushing the yoke to the side to follow after her.

"Good morning, aviators. The temperature's 110 degrees." A voice they'd all assumed was long reassigned returned back in echoes on the radio. Archer's eyes widen as she looks at the newest entry into the air, it was-

"Holy shit, it's Victor!" Hangman yells onto comms, making Archer wince at the loud noise. From behind her, Tango mutters in annoyance under his breath as he follows her gaze to see the recent bogey, "Victor's up here, great."

"Oh, shit. I've got an eye on the northern bogey." Archer trails behind the F/A-18 bogey which ascended higher altitudes, jet wash and clouds mixing in front of her eyes.

Hangman falls into sync with Archer, falling behind the other bogey, "Roger. I got the southern bogey."

Archer lets him strike first, "Hangman, you've got the lead, I'll cover you." As a team, a pair, a duo, the two make their ways behind the bogeys, trailing away the slightest to avoid jet wash clashes.

"Hangman, we're losing Hurricane. Let's just stay on Victor." Archer suggests, falling ahead of her wingman as he slowed down a few yards behind Hurricane. "Yeah, I'm on him." Hangman replies immediately as he ascends to follow after Victor.

"Tango, find Victor. He's out there somewhere." Archer requests her back-seater and WSO as he hums in agreement, eyes trailing around the blue sky shaded with snow white clouds. He shifts his gaze to look ahead from the side, suggesting, "Stay with Hangman, Arch, we're covering his wing."

Tango's eyes catch on the bogey flying on their right, and he warns, "Archie, there's Viper. 3 o'clock, low." Archer wants to do nothing but follow the enemy as she keeps her gaze on it. Tango knows what she's thinking as he watches her helmet hit the side of the glass canopy with a quiet bong.

"Don't you leave me, Hangman." Archer keeps herself on course, but she watches as Hangman moves out of weapons' envelope, making a move for the enemy. But her wingman is adamant on catching the enemy. Before he goes after the bogey, Hangman pulls up at Archer's side, his mask off just to flash his usual smirk and glimmering green eyes, "Archie, you're looking good. I'm going after Victor." Without another word, Hangman's off course, trailing at high speeds behind their superior.

"God damn you, Hangman." Archer curses on the radio. The asshole left them hanging alone. All by themselves. She had no choice but to go after Hurricane now. In the midst of Hangman's absolutely idiotic antics, her target was nowhere to be found.

But then, Hurricane's voice is on the radio without another beat missed, "You see me now?" Archer looks around, frantically asking Tango to look back for him, but he could just shake his head and reply with a no.

Then, she gazed forward.

The target was right on her nose, perhaps just fifty yards from her jet. Even through the large distance, it seemed to her that she was staring right at Hurricane. "Holy shit, we're head to head. I can't believe we're doing this!" Tango exclaims on comms in pure disbelief as he thinks about the next move.

A few beats pass before Archer challenges, "Fight's on!" Tango can barely register her words before she's twisting the plane to the side as her and Hurricane fly by each other.

Archer roundabouts the jet, flipping over to follow after Hurricane. He was flying extremely fast today, at nearly 500 knots. She decided impulsively, to continue to twist her plane to the side, it made them go at a faster rate for some scientific reason. Her mind went back to her uncle's and father's teachings, "don't think, just do" and "fly ice cold, no mistakes".

"Here's our chance, it's a big one, Tangs." She still follows after Hurricane, unable to catch up with him as he's barely twenty-five yards from her. "Come on, Arch, keep coming." Hurricane challenges, and Archer keeps on behind him, smirking at his words. Looking down on the radar, she asks her back-seater, "Go for missile, Tangs?" The WSO asks her to holp up for just a second, and she does, shifting her gaze between Hurricane and the radar.

Then, Tango confirms, "Go, go, go!"

She tries her best to capture the target within the tiny concentric circles on the radar which depict lock for missile, shifting the yoke and the jet to catch up to Hurricane. "Come around, come around. That's it." Hurricane agitates, before he moves out of her peripheral, making Archer ask her WSO, "Tango, where's he going?" Tango doesn't answer as he looks around the sky for a sign of their superior. Archer takes the moment to invert her plane a few more times as they pass by the peak of the mountain left behind.

Then Hurricane's right ahead of them. Archer increases the speed, hearing Hurricane mutter, "Damn, you're good, kid."

Archer makes no move to acknowledge Hurricane, simply informing her WSO of her next move, "He's too close for missile. I'm switching to guns." She flicks a button as the jet accommodates to guns. Archer sharply twists and turns the jet to follow Hurricane's trail.

A minute or two of cat and mouse pass as she Archer chases after Hurricane. Soon, she hears tone, and she's got the target. Looking back at her back-seater who returned a smirk back to her, they speak in unison on the radio, "That's a kill, sir."

A beat passes as Hurricane registers the duo's words. With a small smirk on his lips visible as he removes his mask, he inverts the plane then levels the wings, side by side with Archer. And he nods, "Good job, kids." And then the smallest smile of pride replace his smirk, before he shifts back to his stoic facade, masking his joy at the duo's win.

They make their way back to base after a successful first final.