❝ 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 does he know . . .
. . . 𝐒𝐇𝐄 thinks about him too ❞
IN WHICH Cassidy "Firestarter" Brooke is called back to Top Gun alongside her closest friend, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, to compete for...
' I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you'
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HE LEFT HER. He'd just stared helplessly as they'd taken her. As she had sworn that everything would be okay. But now she was gone. The Admirals said constantly that they were working all hours on the clock to figure out where she was and formulate a way to save her. Before it was too late. No one ever seemed to said it, but it was what they meant and it was something he knew to be true. If they strayed for too long or too far, or if they even missed a spot where she might be, she was as good as dead. But they'd butted Bradley out of their conversations and searches, afraid emotion would overrule logic. They were right.
Little was asked of him throughout the days that stretched into a week or so, and his time was spent tucked away in his room. It was dark and quiet, but at least he could rest. Most of his time was spent asleep, the lure of a world of dreams more favorable to the reality he was in. When they asked for his assistance in anything, only marginal effort was put into the task that was required. He felt cold and numb. The doctors onboard said that he was still shocked. He wasn't in any danger physically, they said, but he wasn't right in the head. Trauma, from losing her. Too many emotions for the mind to handle.
He didn't know why he was like that. All he heard were the words. I'll catch up with you. It was five words. Simple words. I'll: I will. Catch: a game he played with family as a child. Up: a direction, a thing headed towards the sky. With: together, alongside. You: him, in that scenario. The meanings that he tried to break down were impossible, infinite definitions in his head. But the most basic ones, the ones that he had come up with, didn't fit. But all that was left. I'll catch up with you. They haunted his days and his nights. They were there, in the back of his mind, as he went about his day, as he slept, and whispering echoes as he jolted himself awake in the night.
She was gone, and it was all his fault. He avoided using her name, even in his thoughts. He only used her callsign. It was sick, to dehumanize her, to reduce her legacy and her achievements all to a name on a scrap of paper. But to remind himself of what he had lost would only make things worse. But other people would remember her name. She'd mentioned her family; a sister, cousins. All who were waiting eagerly for her until she returned home. Except she wasn't going to. There would be no celebration when a beloved daughter, niece, and sister came home. There would be no hugs and kisses, no tears and laughs.
