eight

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Once again, you felt the odd sensation of waking up in unfamiliar surroundings.

You blinked, trying to mask the fading rays from the sun setting over the mountains outside your window.

You were in the hospital wing at Top Gun Academy.

You turned your head, wanting a glass of water, but flinched and let out a low hiss as the injuries covering your body flared. As painful as it was, your parched throat told you the water was worth it.

You reached for a glass that had been set on your side table. But your hand shook in exhaustion and you knocked a cassette radio to the floor.

You ignored it, grasping the glass and practically slopping its contents down your front. The water was like a breath of fresh air in the middle of a sandstorm.

Then, before you could fully recover, you heard agitated voices on the other side of the door.

"I need to see her! I need to know she's alive!"

"We have strict assignments. No one goes in unless the nurse gives permission."

There was a muffled response as someone, it seemed, tried to negotiate. You set you glass quietly back on the table. You didn't feel up to talking to anyone. You would pretend to be asleep.

Evidently, whoever wanted so badly to see you was successful, because the door to your wing opened and in walked the very last person you had expected. Brett Fletcher.

It was a good thing you had decided to feign sleep. Being awake would only provoke him.

Your heard Gator's footsteps as he walked to your bed. You could feel your heart racing a million miles a minute. How had he bypassed security?

A scraping sound almost made you flinch, but you were able to resist the temptation. Wat was he doing?

After a minute of silence you decided you couldn't take the suspense anymore. You opened one eye an infinitesimal amount. The sight you received was not one you expected.

Gator was shaking, his head in his hands, his body seated in a metal chair that he'd dragged to your bedside.

Your mouth almost dropped open in shock. He was crying.

"It wasn't supposed to be you..." He said, and you shut your eye again.

"It was supposed to be him..."

You didn't know what to think. Was he sad you were hurt? Did he actually care about you?

A voice from the hallway caused Gator's cries to cease abruptly. You heard him rise and walk to the door. It opened, the creak of the hinge like rape in your ears. Then all was still again.

Risking another glance, you opened your eyes. The room was empty again.

You let out a sigh of relief.

~~~

The next time you woke, a horrible yelling was coming from just beyond the door. "I NEED TO SEE HER!"

The voice was familiar, but in a jarring way. You didn't want to know who was screaming, but at the same time, you felt as though they were important.

Finally, the door banged open and the bandaged and bruised face of your boyfriend charged in. "Y/N!" He shot towards your bed. "Oh my gosh, are you alright? Look at you, oh my gosh--"

"Mr. Mitchell, she needs rest." A nurse said from the doorway.

Pete looked back and his eyes told you he would not stop until you had a chance to talk.

"Can we have a few minutes?" You asked timidly. "Please?"

Reluctantly, the nurse withdrew and closed the door. Instantly, you were down to business.

"Pete, what happened? All I remember is the desert canyon. And Gator was just in here—and why are you covered in bandaging?" You touched his scabbed face.

Pete brushed your hand away.  "It's nothing, I fell through some glass during the crash. But your injuries are far worse."

You let him fuss over you for a minute but then you were back to asking the questions.

"Why did we crash?"

Pete's face darkened. "Our jet was tampered with. The fuel was out, the tracker was disabled, and your chute and release jack were destroyed." He clenched his fist. "You could have died."

"Who did it?" You wondered, knowing the sabotage had to have been intentional.

"This is where things go from bad to worse." Pete said. "I can't even beat the guy up. They won't let me."

"Him?" You felt your throat constrict. You were sure you knew who Pete had been referring to.

Pete glanced down and seemed to see the cassette radio that had fallen. He picked it up and held it in his hands. "Yes, him."

"Gator?" You whispered, as if afraid he would hear you.

Pete looked up in surprise. "Gator? No, Clover."

It was your turn to look confused. "Clover? How?"

"Well, they found the crash site and can confirm the jet was definitely humanly sabotaged. Clover has a sworn statement saying he wished you were off this base from when he denounced you as a Sharper. And," Pete said, running his thumb absently over the edge of the radio. "A group of mechanics are saying they saw him in the hangar last night, messing with one of the jets."

You wanted to believe him. "So, Clover's getting punished?"

"Oh, severely." Pete said. "He's been demoted and this afternoon will be tried for attempted murder and damage to government property."

You chewed your lip, your mind working furiously. "But... didn't he try to apologize all those weeks ago?"

"So?" Pete said. "He's obviously guilty, the mechanics swear by it."

"Yeah..." You said. "that's what makes me suspicious."

Pete got a concerned gleam in his eyes. "Wait... you don't think he did it?"

You shook your head and winced, feeling like needles were stabbing at the nerves in your neck. "It's just, if the mechanics take their accusation back, the only thing on Clover is a statement about his opinion on my ability to fly. That doesn't condemn him."

"You're forgetting that the mechanics did send in an accusation."

"I know, but what if it was faulty?"

Pete raised an eyebrow. "Why would they lie?"

"Think about it. Who works in mechanics that has a bone to pick with me and you?"

Pete's eyes widened. "You don't think..."

You swallowed, the truth settling in. "I do."

"It was Gator..." Pete's face darkened again. "Of course! He had access to the jets, he convinced his friends to testify..." he trailed off. "But doesn't he want you to himself? Why try to kill you?"

"He wasn't trying to kill me..." You said. "Listen, he was just in here. I pretended to be asleep. But I heard him say 'it wasn't supposed to be you." Your eyes went wide. "He was trying to kill you! You were going to pilot but we switched last minute!"

A regretful look flashed across Pete's face. "If we hadn't switched, you wouldn't have these injuries."

"That's not the point!" You said, energy strengthening your limbs. "We know who did it! All we need it proof."

Suddenly, the door flew open. Gator stood in the doorway, a cruelly satisfied look on his face. "Too bad you two will never get it."

___
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