The Rooster and The Wolf | Bradley 'ROOSTER' Bradshaw

TWENTY THREE

The air was thick with tension. 

It was finally mission day. 

You weren't sure if it was the motion of being at sea for the first time in three years knocking you sick or the anxiety from knowing what was to come. 

You stood at the stern of the ship, wind whipping the hair around your face as you watched the land get smaller and smaller, until it was just ocean in every direction. 

You shivered, rubbing your forearms not covered by the sleeves of your khaki uniform, releasing a deep breath.

"Ahem." someone coughed behind you.

"Look at you." you said as you turned, smiling as Rooster stood before you. He was clad in his department issued flight suit, ready for the mission briefing, "You look great, Rooster."

"So do you, Wolf." he said, voice wobbling nervously.

"You okay?"

"Can you look after this for me?" he said, hastily stepping towards you holding out his ring.

"What?"

"I didn't wanna leave it in some locker if I got picked."

"Of course I will, Brads." you said, and he placed the ring in your hand, folding your fingers around it. 

You were so close to him that your foreheads were practically touching as you both looked down at your closed hands.

"Guys," Phoenix's voice came, "It's time."

You both looked at each other once more, before turning to Phoenix and nodding, following her towards the building. 

You walked in silence, eyes forward, but your breath hitched when Rooster's fingers grazed against yours. He must have heard it, too, because he was so quick to lace his fingers tightly with yours. So there you were, walking hand in hand into the briefing, his thumb rubbing softly against the back of your hand.

Reaching the rest of the squadron, you slipped from Rooster's grip to join your father, and the two admirals, at the front of the room.

"It has been an honor flying with you." Maverick began, "Each one of you, represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission. My choice is a reflection of that, and nothing more."

"Choose your two foxtrot teams." Cyclone prompted.

"Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob." Maverick nodded to each of them. 

Phoenix locked eyes with you at the sound of her name, but despite your saddened smile, you mustered up the best expression of pride and encouragement that you could. 

Because you were, you were proud of all of them.

"And your wingman?"

There was silence for a moment, your heart beating faster the longer you father went without answering.

"Rooster."

You couldn't bring yourself to look at him. 

Though he was looking at you. 

Rooster watched you as you bit down on your lip in an effort to keep your emotions under control. 

He watched you as your hands began to shake while you picked at your finger nails. 

He watched as Maverick looked at you with worry and sorrow, and he watched as you refused to meet anyone's gaze.

"The rest of you will stand by on the carrier for any reserve role that is required." Warlock said.