Our Bruised Bodies | Bradley Bradshaw

ACT FOUR - PART TWENTY-FIVE

Cheers!

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As the fighter jet glided smoothly back onto the tarmac, the adrenaline that had coursed through Bradley's veins began to ebb, replaced by a profound sense of accomplishment and relief. The roar of the engines faded into a hum as he taxied the aircraft to its designated spot. Peeling off his helmet, he took a moment to steady his breath and let the significance of the flight wash over him. His fingers trembled slightly as they released the harness, the lingering excitement of being back in the sky mingling with the sheer physical relief of a successful landing.

When he finally descended the ladder, the first thing he saw was Grace standing a few feet away. He knew that something was wrong the moment his eyes landed on her, her posture tense despite the smile she tried to maintain

Bradley's heart swelled as he walked towards her, yet his keen eyes caught the flicker of worry in hers, the slight crease between her brows. Grace's eyes sparkled with pride but also something she was trying to hide. A shadow of unease that she was desperately masking behind her warm smile. The world seemed to blur around them, the din of the airbase and the bustling activity of the ground crew receding into the background. As he reached her, Grace stepped forward.

"Commander Kazansky." He addressed, which had Grace nod at him, telling him to stand at ease, while she considered the people around them, but neither of them seemed to pay them any mind.

"Welcome back, flyboy." she said, her voice holding a hint of tremor beneath the affectionate tease. Bradley chuckled softly, feeling the familiar warmth of her presence, but his mind was already racing.

"That was very good work, Lieutenant. We're very glad to have you back. The Navy needs aviators just like yourself, Bradshaw, you should consider having a longer stay at Miramar. As a Top Gun instructor for a few months maybe. The next generation would benefit a lot from your experience and expertise." She told him formally.

"Thank you, Commander. I will consider the offer." he said, while searching her eyes for a clue on what was going on, what he was missing but he found nothing of enough importance to have him be sure about anything at all.

"It feels like... like truly waking up." Grace's hand found his, her fingers curling around his own in a gesture that was both comforting and, he realized, slightly tense.

"I knew you had it in you," she said softly, her smile broadening, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "You never lost it, Bradshaw. Not for a second."

Her words were sincere, but Bradley could sense the undercurrent of distraction, just as Grace using his first name and touching him openly at work at him on high alert. Something was very wrong. He glanced back at the jet, now silent and still, then returned his focus to her, noting the way she kept glancing over his shoulder, as if something or someone, was on her mind. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice gentle yet probing.

Grace's gaze faltered for a brief moment before she forced another smile. "Of course." she replied too quickly, squeezing his hand. "Just... a lot going on today."

Bradley's eyes narrowed slightly. He knew her too well to be deceived by the surface calm. "Grace." he said quietly, his tone firm but caring. "What's wrong?"

She sighed, the facade of calm slipping away as she looked at him, her eyes reflecting the weight of whatever burden she was carrying. "I need you as far away from here as possible. Doctor Simon wants to check you over anyways." She pointed out, her voice low and hesitant.

"Why?" He wondered out loud, which had Grace swallow.

"Cain is here." That made both of them pause for a moment.