Top Gun Imagines

Memories [Maverick X Reader]

Footsteps.

Twisting against the leather cushions, you watch silently as a familiar figure strides into the common area, a look of such fatigue and tiredness in his expression and conveyed evidently through his movements, it makes your heart ache in compassion.

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell is still clad in his Flightsuit, much to your surprise.

If anything had been of importance regarding the training of these pilots you've been working alongside, surely you would've been notified as well...

Though as you watch your wingman's movements into the kitchen as he pours himself a glass of water, it takes him a moment before fully comprehending he's not alone in the room.

"Sorry," He chuckles, downing the last of his water and setting the glass aside, leaving the kitchen behind as he makes his way over towards where you sit. "I was lost in thought. Didn't see you there."

"Obviously," You reply, your own huff of light laughter following, gesturing to his attire as he takes a seat in the chair across from you, a tired grin ghosting his lips, his gaze looking you over for a moment. "No rest for the weary?"

The man in front of you sighs, blinking a few times before shaking his head.

"I wish it were that simple. Cyclone and Warlock wanted the incident reports from today completed with such accuracy, it's almost as if I would've been better off videotaping it so they could actually see what happened with their own two eyes."

A frown tugs at your lips as the pilot's words resonate with you.

"Surely if I had been there with you, as a second eye-witness, the process would've been less time consuming?" You muse, once again gesturing to his olive drab Flightsuit. "Time that you could've used to get changed out of the day's clothes and get some sleep, just like everyone else."

The one they call Maverick just sighs heavily, gaze dropping from yours for a moment before raising once again, curiosity shining within it.

"What's keeping you up? You don't seem like the type to be up for no reason."

His question catches you by surprise slightly, a certain heat rising on your cheeks.

But, he leans forward in his seat, wordlessly insisting - prompting a response.

Now it's your turn to sigh, stifling back a yawn, the memories and emotions you'd thought had finally left you alone for the evening resurfacing with such speed, it practically takes the wind out of you, a choked sob leaving you gasping for air as tears well in your eyes.

The pilot sitting in front of you seems startled by your sudden, rapid shift in emotions, his own expression shifting into one of immediate concern as he clambers to his feet and nears your now trembling figure, taking a seat on the coffee table that had been separating you both.

"Hey, hey, hey," He shushes, taking the hands that had instinctively raised to hide your broken features from his gaze into his, lowering them to your sides.

Keeping a gentle but firm grip in one and raising the other to wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks, Pete Mitchell merely watches as you crumble, the weight of today and all the memories from... then... finally cracking you.

"You know," You start through broken sobs, choking back the tears just so you can speak. "I've never... I don't usually..."

And even though you can't finish your sentence, the pilot holding your hand in his seems to understand perfectly, a soft "I know," falling from his lips, his thumb running soothing circles on the back of your one hand, the other wiping away the tears before they have a chance to leave your face behind.

That soft "I know" resonates with you, realization pricking your hazy thoughts as you stifle back another wave of sobs, blinking through your blurred vision at the features of the man in front of you.

His own gaze is brimming with unshed tears, bottom lip beginning to quiver.

He does know.

He knows right well what you're going through, just as you finally understand the desperation you'd heard in his voice earlier today.

The sternness to your pilots...

The unwavering stance that everyone on this Mission needs to come home...

He's made it his Mission, his duty, to get these pilots ready for every possible outcome...

Because he knows what it's like to lose someone.

Someone close.

And so do you.

With yet another sob wracking through your frame, you find yourself sinking forward, falling almost, before you're caught and pulled close, your head finding a resting place against his shoulder.

"We've got to keep moving forward... we've got to," Pete murmurs, his wavering breaths tickling your ear. "Because if we don't... if we don't carry on... what was it all for?"

The question hangs in the air for a moment, falling heavy on your shoulders as you finally begin to feel the tears subsiding, sniffles replacing them.

"Nothing," You answer, your voice cracking and raspy as you pull away from the man who'd literally just held you without a care in the world as you'd broken down.

The shoulder of his once olive drab Flightsuit is now damp with your tears, almost appearing stained, though he seems unphased, offering a gentle grin.

"Right," Comes the reply, a shaky sigh escaping the pilot. "So we've got to figure out how to continue on... how to let go..."

"That's easier said than done."

Maverick silently nods, blinking back his emotions, desperately trying to compose himself.

"Yeah."

That one word seems to crack his composure, the tears he held back sliding freely down his cheeks.

Though this time, it's your thumb that raises to wipe them away, a gentle grip on your wrist halting your movements.

Pete Mitchell's gaze meets yours.

And within it shines a certain glimmer of optimism mixed with a type of desperation and realization.

"We've got time though," He urges softly, voice lower than a whisper, seemingly not trusting it to be any louder. "We've got time to figure it out, together."

Now it's your turn to nod wordlessly, a soft smile ghosting the edges of your lips.

"Yeah," You muse, taking his hand in yours and guiding him to the vacant spot at your side, your smaller figure finding its way into his arms, the blanket draping across the both of you.

Fatigue is falling upon the pair of you as the rain continues to pour, a comfortable silence filling the common area that surrounds you.

And as Pete pulls you closer before flicking the lamp off, bathing the room in a dim darkness, you barely hear yourself murmur one last thing, a fondness ringing in your tone.

"We've got plenty of time."

And each other...