Fight or Flight [Rooster x OC]

Prologue

Bradley Bradshaw was ten years old the first time he flew solo.

"He ain't going anywhere."

"Can we please get down from here? Dad's going to kill us for being up here, and then he'll bring us back to life to kill us again when Bradley dies."

"He's not gonna die."

"Katie's right. I'm going to fly. It's ready." Bradley tightened the straps on his makeshift backpack harness, which jostled the huge homemade glider it was attached to. Cobbled together out of tent poles, parachute material, bungee cords, and shiny duct tape, it was an ugly thing, but he and the younger two Kazansky kids had been working on it for the past five days. He was proud of it.

"Don't forget your helmet," Kate said, holding out a bike helmet with both hands. At eight years old, she was tiny with white-blond curly hair and blue-green eyes, flowers embroidered on her pink coveralls.

Bradley took the helmet and turned it over. "Why's it got Lisa Frank stickers on it?"

"It was boring," she said, offering a bright, innocent grin. "And they're good luck."

"You made that up."

"Nuh-uh." Her smile turned mischievous. "Okay, maybe. But they're cute. These are my favorites."

Bradley laughed and rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Katie."

"You're super very welcome."

Dorothy "Dot" Kazansky ran her hands down her face and then tugged both her brown pigtail braids at the same time. She was the eldest of the Kazansky trio, two years older than Bradley. "Look, I'm in charge—"

"Nah, Tiffany's in charge," her nine-year-old brother TJ said, shrugging. Tiffany, the eighteen-year-old daughter of a commander on the base, was officially their babysitter, but she was almost always either talking on the phone or napping on the couch. Which was crazy since she was getting paid good money to keep an eye on the four kids under her watch, but they had her convinced they were good kids. And they were, most of the time.

When they weren't standing on the roof of the Kazanskys' two story home, waiting for Bradley to jump off and try out his glider.

"She's not out here, and I'm twelve—"

"Y'know, it'd work better off a tower or something," Bradley said, adjusting a bungee cord. He cut his eyes at Dot. "That one by the left airfield isn't bad."

Her nose wrinkled. "I think you'll make a good enough pancake out of yourself jumping off here, Brad."

"Don't call me that."

"He's not gonna do it anyways," TJ said, crossing his arms over his chest. Named after his father, Tom Junior was a good guy but he always saying stuff to get a reaction out of people. And he liked making bets. He tilted his head back and looked up at the sky. "And we can't go over there no ways. Maverick and Dad might be over there."

"And if Mav catches you, Bradley, you're getting skinned alive," Dot said.

"Yeah, yeah," Bradley said.

Maverick had volunteered to watch him for a couple weeks to get him out of his mom's hair while school was out for the summer. Mav was temporarily stationed at Lemoore in California because he had done something stupid on his last assignment (that's what Rear Admiral Iceman said).

The Kazanskys' were also stationed there, which meant Bradley spent a lot of time over at their house while Maverick was working. Maverick wouldn't be super happy if he knew about the glider, which was why he and TJ and Kate had built the glider in an unused shed on base. They had pulled its parts to the Kazanskys' house using their bikes and a couple Red Flyer wagons and reassembled it on the roof under the stupid hot sun.