automatic stop, bradley bradshaw

forty-nine.

NO ONE WANTED TO RUSH ICEMAN'S FUNERAL, OF COURSE. HE DESERVED NOTHING BUT A WELL PREPARED FUNERAL WITH ALL OF THE PERFECT AND PRECISE ELEMENTS. the perfect timing. death, however, is never something you can be well prepared for, and it never seems to have perfect timing. 

the issue was that, with the date of the mission quickly catching up to the group of aviators that called iceman family, there was a high likelihood that any date not immediate would result in katia, skye, and maverick being unable to attend the funeral. and so iceman's funeral happened just a couple of days following his death. 

skye hated funerals. she hadn't been to many of them, but she'd been to enough to know that she hated everything about them. she especially hated how everyone was dressed in black when iceman much preferred the white naval uniforms. he frequently reminded her and katia of that by saying that he looked the best in the whites. "yes, you slayed." they would both assure him.

she also hated how everyone was completely silent. at most funerals she'd attended in the past, the people around her at least said something. sometimes people at funerals, she found, would go over the top. they'd try to outsell someone else's sadness with a story about how they were closer to the deceased than you were.

other funeral attendees would crowd around the family of the person that had passed, making some sort of display of being so kind and charitable for asking how they were doing. everyone at this funeral, though, seemed too sad to speak. it made the entire experience more eery. even less real. 

skye was standing with her fellow aviators, which seemed completely unfair, since she'd been close to iceman her entire life. the main frustration she had with her current position was that she couldn't run to katia, who was standing with her family. her stoic expression didn't fool skye, who knew that she was trying with everything in herself not to cry. 

the hardest thing was listening to the speeches. only a few people had anything to say, since the funeral was so short notice. but the few admirals and soldiers who did speak of ice had tears in their eyes that made skye almost crumble. she wished ice could fully see how much he meant to the navy. how much he meant to her. 

when maverick stepped forward, the closest active aviator who had worked with ice directly, holding ice's wings of gold in his hands.. skye found herself gnawing at the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying. she watched as her father lifted a shaking fist and slammed it on the medal, locking it into the casket.

skye instinctively grabbed for hangman's hand, seeing as he was standing next to her. she didn't look at him other than in her peripheral vision, but she could tell that he was confused at first. his gaze softened as he realized who had clasped their hand into his, and he gave it a comforting squeeze. 

she was completely confident that, if she wasn't holding his hand, she would've fallen over. completely crumbled. 

as lame as it was to admit to it, skye was also still thinking about rooster. about how he hadn't spoken to her. how hangman had come to check in on her, and rooster still hadn't said a single thing to her about any of it.

the casket was lowered into the ground, and skye's hand remained in hangman's. she kept her face as expressionless as possible, but she could tell that the man next to her had noticed the way she had started shaking. it wasn't real. 

jets flew overhead, forming the missing man formation. skye couldn't bring herself to look at them. when she risked a glance over at katia, she noticed that the blonde was also diverting her gaze. maybe if they didn't watch the jets, or listen to the musician playing taps on trumpet.. it wouldn't be real. they wouldn't be at iceman's funeral.