✵ Chapter Thirteen ~ Beginning of The End ✵
(Y/n) couldn't sleep, no matter how much she tried.
She tossed and turned, not able to rest. She had long lost track of the time, knowing the time almost making her feel worse than how she already felt.
The mission was coming up, and (Y/n) was almost 100% sure that Natasha would be chosen for the mission.
The very thought made (Y/n) queasy to her stomach, almost wanting to lose her dinner from the very thought.
The very thought Natasha would be out in foreign territory without her in the backseat made (Y/n) even more restless.
What if they were intercepted? What if they missed the target? What if they get hit by SAMS? What if Natasha burned in?
(Y/n) felt a cold sweat break out at the thought, her nerves only becoming more fried. She couldn't lose Natasha.
(Y/n) turned once more, Natasha entirely undisturbed by any of this.
She was fast asleep, her hair down, some of it in her face, light snores coming from her.
She must've been tired.
(Y/n) reached over and brushed some of the hair from her face, running her thumb over her cheek.
(Y/n) pulled her hand back after, the darkness of the room limiting what she could make out, her turning onto her back.
She stared into the darkness, many thoughts running through her mind, trying to ignore all the horrible thoughts of what could go wrong in the mission.
(Y/n)'s hand clenched the cool dog tags on her neck, her name, and callsign engraved on it, along with a few other things.
"Talk to me, dad..."
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(Y/n)'s head was bobbing ever so noticeably as she tried to keep her eyes open.
She was exhausted from last night, somehow drifting asleep for what felt like a moment, before the obnoxious beep of her alarm woke her up.
The urge to fall asleep was strong, her entire body begging for her to give in to the urge, but (Y/n) forced herself to stay awake.
(Y/n) looked to her left, a bitter look coming onto her face when Natasha wasn't there, instead sitting next to a nerd with glasses.
(Y/n) sighed at her own thoughts, she hadn't even ever talked to the guy, maybe he was a good person. He seemed awful shy and anxious, looking to almost cry when Natasha was looking at him.
(Y/n) sighed and shut her eyes, a little nap wouldn't hurt...
"Good morning, Aviators."
Speak of the devil.
(Y/n) immediately snapped awake, her eyes widening as she looked up, shocked and mildly happy to not see Maverick there.
"I will be your instructor from now on, Captain Mitchell will no longer be teaching you." It was Cyclone, the three-star admiral. "Time to target is now four minutes and the max ceiling will now be 500 feet."
The board behind him, which did say 00:02:30 turned into 00:04:00.
Fanboy was the first to speak up, "Won't we be giving superior enemy jets time to prepare and intercept?"
Cyclone didn't seem concerned about this, "This new parameter has been set to ensure the protection of not only our pilots but also our planes."
(Y/n) didn't like the sound of this, in a F/A-18, Super Hornet or not, it would be a death sentence to go against those fifth-gen jets.
Before Cyclone could continue to change the mission to become more of a death sentence, the board behind him focused on something live.
There was an unknown jet coming in, about to enter the course.
(Y/n) rubbed her eyes as she tried to focus on what was going on, exhaustion being prominent as most of the conversation fell onto deaf ears.
"Well, I'm going for it anyway." (Y/n) recognized that voice. Maverick. "Time to target, two minutes and fifteen seconds."
(Y/n) looked up to the board, seeing Maverick start the course, with a time to target being 00:02:15.
Right off the bat, Maverick was maneuvering through the course with hardly any problems, all of the people in the room's eyes trained on the display.
When he reached the first mountain, he pulled on his stick, getting to the top before turning inverted, diving down towards the target, and turning back upright.
The sound of the laser locking onto the target sounded, all of their eyes widening as he shot the first round of missiles, the missiles having positive contact with the target.
No one could breathe or speak, looking to the time that was running down, and fast.
Maverick pulled back on his stick, pulling into Coffin Corner before the sound hit their ears.
The sound of the laser locking onto the target, for the second time, and then the second round of missiles sounded...before hitting the target.
"Holy shit." (Y/n) leaned back into her chair, the clock on the board showing the time he had left.
00:00:12.
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"Rooster." (Y/n) walked up to him, him looking back at her, confused.
They had been ordered to pack up essentials, quickly, for their mission was moved up to the next day.
They had all made it to the tarmac, all of their bags packed, waiting for the plane, that would take them to the carrier, to be ready.
(Y/n) hauled her heavy green bag over her shoulder, adjusting her grip on it, standing in front of her brother.
"I don't-" (Y/n) couldn't get her sentence out, "-I don't want you to fly on the mission."
Rooster furrowed his eyebrows, turning around fully to look at her.
"Why not?" He sounded defensive, (Y/n) biting her lip, before looking (up/down) at him.
"I have a bad feeling, and I don't want you there." She responded, being vague.
Rooster didn't take this lightly, "And? Why would I let you go then?"
(Y/n) shook her head, "I'm older than you, you know how this works."
"By five minutes!" He exclaimed, exasperated at the excuse.
(Y/n) wasn't having it, "Still makes me older."
Rooster sighed, pushing his sunglasses farther up his nose, adjusting his grip on his own green bag.
"We have no control who gets chosen." (Y/n) continued, "But...if I get chosen, take care of Natasha, for me?"
Rooster furrowed his eyebrows, opening his mouth to say something, but (Y/n) beat him to it.
"Don't ask why, just-" (Y/n) sighed, "-promise me."
Bradley clenched his jaw, before sighing, "I promise."
(Y/n) smiled, her body moving before she could stop it.
She dropped her bag, wrapping her arms around Bradley's body, pulling him into a tight hug.
Bradley dropped his bag in shock, a thud of the heavy bag hitting the tarmac.
He was shocked for a moment, before a sad smile came onto his face, wrapping his arms around her back.
"I love you, Bradley." (Y/n) muttered, her voice slightly breaking, Bradley's eyes widening at her using his real name.
But right as the shock came into his face, did it vanish. His heart swelled with platonic love for his sister, shutting his eyes, and leaning into the hug more.
"I love you too, (Y/n)."
✵ The End of Chapter Thirteen ✵
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Unchained Melody
FanfictionNatasha "Phoenix" Trace x Fem!Reader In Greek mythology, Circe is associated with hawks. In fact, historians believe her name comes from the word kirkos, or circle, for a hawk's spiraling flight pattern. Many call her the circling one or She-falcon.