Pregnant. Casey is—pregnant. The words echo on a loop in his mind, and yet Bradley still cannot quite comprehend them. He knows that he should say something. Do something, because Casey's apprehensive expression is turning to something not all that far from a resigned sort of understanding.
He knows these things, but even when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out, his throat going dry as the reality of it all finally starts to sink in.
She's pregnant. Having a baby. They are having a baby. Because this has every bit as much to do with him as it does her. And even though, if anyone had bothered to ask him even seconds ago, what he felt about the idea of becoming a father, Bradley would not have had a single idea of his answer, now he begins to feel the slightest hints of resolve making its way through the haze of shock still lingering in his mind.
He may not have expected this. It isn't exactly a stretch to say he is hardly ready for it. But this is Casey, not some random girl he took home from a bar after returning from a deployment, whose affections were obviously far more determined than his own. They grew up together. She's his best friend.
Even if she still seems more than a little uncertain about everything that happened between them seven weeks ago, he isn't. He never could be.
He'd wanted that for what felt like forever. A part of him had hoped Casey had wanted it too. But even if she didn't, he isn't about to allow her to face the fallout from it on her own.
Something he finally resolves to tell her, except that he has clearly been stunned into silence for far too long, because Casey is already barreling forward before he can even think of how to stop her.
"I don't—obviously, I don't expect you to—to do anything," She begins, scooting a bit farther back on the porch step to get some space between them, because Bradley's silence feels like a wall slowly pushing out any former closeness that they used to know, "It's not—I'm going to take care of this. Well, not—not take care of it, because I'm—I'm keeping the baby. But—"
"Case—"
"You don't have to be a part of this at all. I—I've got this."
"Is that really what you think?"
"I—what?"
"You really think I want nothing to do with this. With our—our child," Bradley clarifies, the words coming out scratchy, as though this is the first time he's spoken in a very long time. His thoughts are still tumbling over one another a mile a minute. There is a very real side of him that is actually scared of what all of this means. But all of that fades rather quickly when the reality of what Casey seems to be suggesting fully sinks in.
Now, Bradley realizes he is scared of something else, entirely, given the way determination seems to replace the resignation that took over her expression before.
He is scared of her deciding to pull away. To shut him out entirely, because somehow, she still can't see that she's what he's been wanting all along.
"Well I don't—I mean, we're not—we aren't—together. So I just—I don't want to tie you down with this, because I know you've got other things to worry about, especially right now, and I just—"
"You just what?"
"We're—we're friends. And I don't want to ruin that. I mean, maybe I already have, but I just—I can't—if this is what breaks us, I don't want you to feel like you have any sort of obligation at all."
"Obligation."
"Yeah. I mean you—you're obviously a pilot first, and I know better than to get in the middle of that. And if you wanted to see other people, then that's—that's okay," Casey finishes, her brow furrowing as her final suggestion and the thought of what it might mean wrenches at her heart far more than she truly cares to admit. The idea of Bradley with anyone else settles like an uncomfortable weight in her chest, but still, she knows she could never force him into something that he doesn't want.
She can't do that to him. She would never forgive herself if she ever came close. And the unreadable expression on his face right now is hardly convincing her that his reaction to this is going to be anything good.
"Do you want to see other people?"
It is Casey's turn to fall silent, then, despite how the answer bubbles up almost immediately after Bradley asks the question. She doesn't want to be the one to answer first, because even if Bradley swears otherwise, if she really says yes, she will never be able to convince herself that any decision to agree with her on his part will not, in fact, come from obligation more than anything else. And then it occurs to her. Maybe he's only turning the tables, so to speak, because he is worried about the same.
He is still watching her, and his expression has softened a bit. It bears more of a resemblance to concern, now, than anything else. But still, Casey cannot quite rid herself of the lingering apprehension coiling around her heart…
"I don't—I'm not—"
God, why can't she just speak? Frustration causes the burn of tears to sting at the corners of her eyes, but Bradley seems to sense this, a muscle twitching against his jawline for a moment before he manages his own reply.
"Because I don't."
"You don't—"
"I don't want to see other people."
Casey blinks in surprise, her efforts to convince herself that Bradley would never want anything that serious with her at odds with the sincerity she can clearly see in his expression. She cannot explain it. Why he would be so willing to tie himself to her when they've done absolutely nothing that might be construed as more than friendship, save for what happened seven weeks ago.
A part of her knows that her own continued silence is hardly going to be encouraging. And she really does want to say she feels the same. That the idea of being with anyone else seems impossible.
But she can't. She can't persuade her mouth to open to say the words that her mind is all but screaming at her. Somehow, even in light of Bradley's own confession, such as it is, it doesn't seem real. It can't possibly be real.
And as a familiar car pulls into the driveway, Casey realizes that she is officially out of time.
"Look, you need to think about it. I get it," Bradley states, moving to stand as the engine cuts off, and Penny climbs out of the driver's seat, casting a quizzical glance his way. Casey moves to stand too, albeit too quickly, wavering a bit as her vision nearly fades to black, a steady hand catching at her elbow to keep her upright. Bradley's eyes hold hers as she tilts her head back to look up at him, and for a moment Casey wonders if he will pull her closer. She realizes that she wants him to do exactly that.
But just as quickly as the contact arose between them, it fades as soon as Bradley discovers she is capable of standing on her own, his hand dropping from her elbow while he finishes what he had been intending to say, before.
"But whatever you decide, Case, I—I'm not walking away."
Bradley is moving down the porch steps before Casey can do anything more than gape at him and manage a shaky nod, a strange sinking sensation forcing her to snap a hand out to the porch railing while her legs tremble beneath her. She watches as he offers her mother a nod and something that is likely intended to be a smile before moving to his truck parked a few feet away.
She is dimly aware of Penny moving to stand at her side, concern and confusion apparent in her expression, but Casey can do nothing more than lean against her mother as the older woman loops an arm around her waist.
Every other part of her is far too occupied with trying to fight back tears, because her nerves and stubborn insistence on keeping her true feelings guarded kept her silent. Her doubts had paralyzed her, and now Bradley was gone. In seconds, everything had gone so, so very wrong.
And Casey knows she has no one to blame but herself.
…
"Okay. So, do you want to tell me what that was all about?"
Penny is not surprised when Casey does not immediately reply, but she still eyes her daughter where she sits, curled up almost in the fetal position on the couch in the den. Her hands are curled around a steaming mug of tea, and Penny's own beverage sits on a table beside the opposite end of the couch.
Casey had already told her that Evie was crashing in her bedroom. She knew Amelia had passed out in her own bed after studying for a few hours in preparation for a big test.
But something in her oldest daughter's demeanor all but screams that there is something else going on beneath the surface. And Penny isn't about to let that go unless Casey makes it obvious that she intends to give her no other choice.
"Casey—"
"I—I think I really messed up this time, Mom," Casey sighs, risking a sip of the steaming liquid in her mug, and closing her eyes for a moment as the warmth of it slides down her throat, and feeds some life into her chilled hands. A part of her is hesitant to talk about this. To make any sort of confession at all, because if anyone deserved to hear the truth first, it was Bradley. No one else.
But another part of her feels as though if she keeps it to herself any longer she will explode, and Casey isn't so foolish as to pretend she hasn't always looked to her mother when she needed to get something off her chest.
"When you say 'messed up'—what exactly does that entail?"
"Nothing illegal."
"Funnily enough, that is not where I was going with that," Penny replies, a soft laugh escaping because in spite of the intended seriousness of this conversation, she can still recall a sheepish young girl being escorted home one night by a frazzled police officer and his partner after being caught egging an admiral's home because she'd overheard how he reprimanded Pete after a particularly dicey mission.
Her daughter had dragged Bradley along with her on that particular task, and even now Penny remembers her own inability to remain frustrated with either one of them.
Even in their more foolhardy moments, neither one of them had ever acted out without a need to defend someone else they cared for being behind it.
"You're thinking about the eggs, aren't you?"
"I might be."
"Of all the things to never live down," Casey says, smiling faintly at the memory, until the expression fades when her mind trails to Bradley's involvement, and everything that had gone wrong between them tonight, "I just—I did something with—with someone, and I think it changed—things."
"Changed things?"
"Changed everything."
"And this someone? It wouldn't happen to be Bradley, would it?"
Casey nods as she places her tea mug on the coffee table, and Penny's expression softens, her own mug of tea forgotten as she leans forward to reach for her daughter's hand. The younger girl seizes it almost desperately, her fingers cold and trembling. And, regardless of the renewed worry that flares to life in response, Penny does her best to keep her expression neutral. To keep her tone neutral as she hedges for a moment, before going on to speak once more.
"Sweetheart, what happened?"
"We—you remember when I went out to meet him after that last mission?"
"I do."
"I thought—I thought he died, Mom. And then he was—he was there, and real, and everything was just—it was too much, all at once, and we—we slept together."
Penny isn't exactly sure what she had been expecting Casey to say. She had known almost immediately that something was—off—between her daughter and Bradley as soon as she had pulled in the driveway. And she would be the first to admit she'd always wondered if there might be something more between Casey and her best friend…
Apparently, there was. Or—is. But Casey's expression, and the way she is biting down on her lower lip seem to suggest that whatever had happened between them on the porch is troubling her far more than she cares to admit.
"Okay. Okay, so you—do you regret it?"
"No. No, absolutely not."
"Does he?"
"I think he—I think he might, now."
Sensing the unmasked pain in her daughter's voice, Penny offers Casey's hand a squeeze, trying not to let her worry and disappointment show on her face when the younger girl slowly pulls away. Penny watches as Casey's lower lip trembles. As her shoulders lift in a shaky breath, and slump just as quickly when she exhales.
She wants to reassure her. To say that she is absolutely sure that Bradley couldn't ever regret something like this. That she always thought the two of them would be better together than they ever could be, apart.
But somehow, Penny knows that such a thing would only seem like false encouragement at this point, at least as far as Casey's current mindset is concerned. And so, she manages a careful breath of her own before shifting to cross her own legs beneath her on the couch cushion in preparation to speak.
"Did he say that?"
"I—well no, not exactly. But I—"
Casey frowns as she realizes she is once again coming up against that same road-block she knew when trying to talk to Bradley, frustration causing her fingers to flex as she places them on her thighs. It kills her that she cannot seem to bring herself to a full, honest confession. After all, this is her mother. Not some stranger, or another person she knows, but hardly trusts.
And if she can't come clean to her mom—to her best friend—what chance does she really have with anyone else?
Looking up at her mom, Casey takes in her patient expression. How she sits on the couch, relaxed, instead of pressing for more information or trying to wear her down. She remembers how it has always been like this, even when she was a girl. Whenever she had been in trouble, Penny would wait patiently until Casey fought past the nerves and apprehension in her own mind to tell her what was going on.
Even though it is difficult, she tries to rally herself to do the same, now, swallowing past a thick lump in her throat, and squeezing her eyes shut before she finally finishes what she supposes she's been trying to say all along.
"I'm—Mom, I'm pregnant. I—I told him—tonight."
"Oh. Oh—wow," Penny gasps, once again taken aback by Casey's words, though her shock is not enough to keep her from asking the one question it is clear that her daughter will not be able to answer without a push, "And how—how did he take it?"
"I don't—I guess I don't—I don't really know."
"What do you mean by that?"
"It just—he didn't say anything at first. And I—I panicked, like an idiot," Casey admits, dropping her head in her hands for a moment, and then shifting to press her fingers against suddenly burning eyes, "It got around to talking about me not wanting to hold him back if he wanted to see other people, and then he asked me if I wanted to see other people."
"What did you say?"
"I didn't say anything. I froze. Just—just like always. And now, I—I don't even know if—"
"You don't even know if telling him the truth can fix this?"
"I'm not even sure I know what the truth is, Mom."
"I think you do," Penny disagrees, aware of Casey's incredulous expression, though it is not nearly enough to stop her from going on, "I think you've known about the truth for a long time."
Casey wants to deny the claim, but something stalls her just before she can make the attempt at doing exactly that, her eyes watching her mother's expression carefully, and finding nothing but a calm demeanor no matter how hard she tries to seek out anything else. She'd expected more than just shock, but understanding is something she didn't dare believe she would find.
Honestly, a part of her had almost envisioned disappointment. Or at the very least, skepticism over the obvious decisions that had been made. But, finding none of that, Casey is left with the very real possibility that her mother, for all intents and purposes, just might have seen this coming all along.
"You don't—you don't seem surprised."
"Oh trust me, I'm surprised. Just not in the way you might think."
"And that means—what, exactly?" Casey asks, her brow furrowing because in spite of her assumptions, she is quickly coming to realize that she truly has no clue what her mother is about to say. Something Penny seems to pick up on in an instant, if the faint smile that pulls at the corners of her mouth is any sort of indication at all.
"The pregnancy? That is a surprise. Trust me."
"But—"
"But you and Bradley actually acting on all of the pent up feelings that flit around between you? That I could've seen coming even if I was blind."
"Wow, Mom."
"What? Are you going to tell me that there's nothing there?" Penny demands, her tone gentle, though her expression is something more along the lines of being shrewd. Assessing. As though she knows exactly what her daughter's response will be, before Casey can even say a word.
And Casey recognizes that in seconds, a soft sigh escaping before she winds her arms around her legs to pull her knees closer to her chest while she replies.
"There—there is. Or—or I thought so, at least."
"Well we can work with that, right?"
"I don't—I really don't know. And I—I'm—"
"You're what?"
"Scared."
There it is. Out in the open, unable to be taken back. Casey swallows bile, and doesn't bother to hide the tears in her eyes that threaten to spill over in seconds. Because it had been her fear that kept her silent earlier. Fear of what the hell she was supposed to do if Bradley didn't want this. Didn't want her.
Even when he said he didn't want to see other people himself, she had spent a moment unable to fathom it. Unable to believe that he really meant it at all. And that hesitation cost her. It cost her more than she truly wants to admit.
She knew that her reticence only made it seem as though she didn't want this. It is more than obvious Bradley had certainly seen it that way.
The thing that truly terrifies her, out of all of this is two-fold. Being a mother is a mystery. She isn't entirely sure she'll stand a chance at being a good one. But doing it alone?
That is the thing frightening enough to rob the breath from her chest.
"I'm going to tell you something," Penny decides, then, watching as Casey's arms tighten around her knees, as though trying to shield herself from something neither of them can see, "And I want you to just give it a second to sink in, okay?"
"O—okay."
"I've spent a long time knowing how much you're like your father. Knowing how easy it is for the two of you to toss yourselves head-first into anything you want, regardless of the risks."
"Mom—"
"Let it sink in, remember?"
Frowning, Casey can do nothing but nod, a part of her unable to ignore the slight flame of embarrassment that warms her cheeks. She's never been any good at this. Sitting and comprehending rather than forming an immediate plan of action. But she'd promised her mom that she'd try.
And she knows she owes the woman seated beside her, once again reaching for her hand, absolutely nothing less.
"The two of you also seem to share the same terror for anything that even remotely comes close to acknowledging real feelings. Like you're both so convinced that admitting you have them will make others see you as weak."
"That's not—"
"Casey."
"Sorry. Shutting up now."
"As I was saying," Penny teases, giving Casey's knee a gentle nudge, and taking some relief in her daughter's answering smile, faint though it may be, "When the two of you feel—anything—you feel it hard. It's what I love the most about you both. And it's also what gets you two into at least three quarters of the trouble you can never seem to avoid."
Casey cannot help but laugh softly in response to the words, a little bit of warmth squeezing its way into her chest to force out some of the cold that has made a home there ever since Bradley left. She knows what her mother says is true. Even if a part of her wants to deny it, she knows the attempt would fall flat on its face in seconds.
She still isn't entirely sure what her mom hopes to achieve with this little talk, but she meets her gaze head-on regardless, managing another nod as a signal that will hopefully persuade Penny to go on.
"Okay. Is this sinking in?"
"It—it is."
"Then do you think you can answer two questions for me?"
"Sure."
"Do you want this baby?"
"Yes," Casey breathes, the readiness of the admission and the surety in her mind startling her, and causing her eyes to blow wide, "Yes. I—I do. I don't—obviously I don't have a damn clue what I'm doing but I—I want the baby."
"I think you'll wind up surprising yourself with how quickly you figure it out," Penny assures, sending her daughter a gentle smile, and giving her hand a firm squeeze before going on, "Do you want Bradley?"
Once again, Casey feels the familiar constriction in her throat. Her chest. Her heartbeat quickens, and for a moment, she struggles to remember how to breathe. She tries to remind herself that she is with her mom. That anything she says here isn't going to be held against her in any way. Her eyes slip closed, and she tries to drag in a slow, steady breath. Then another. And another.
And when she finally succeeds in evading the panic that seems determined to dog her every move, Casey opens her eyes again, her heart lurching just as she gathers the wherewithal to reply.
"I—yes. But I don't think—"
"Nope. I only asked if you wanted him. Not if you thought he felt the same."
"But—"
"No buts," Penny argues, unable to resist another grin as Casey gives her an exasperated roll of the eyes, and slumps back against the arm of the couch, "You're not doing yourself any favors trying to predict what anyone else is thinking. Especially when the truth is, you just don't know."
"It—it would be so much easier if I did," Casey groans, shifting so that she can still rest with her arms around her knees, though now she is also slouched down far enough to be able to lean her head against the cushioning at the back of the couch, "I just—I don't know what to do."
"Well we know one thing, right away. We're going to get you in for some prenatal care. That's one thing we can do, whether Bradley has anything to do with it or not. But I'm going to tell you something else, okay?"
"What's that?"
"I've seen the way Bradley looks at you. And it's not like how he used to when the two of you were kids."
"Jesus, Mom—"
"I'm serious," Penny insists, not missing the lingering doubt in Casey's expression, and frowning because she knows it is going to take more than just a singular discussion with Rooster to convince her of the truth, "The two of you have something special. You've always had it. And I don't think that even a surprise baby and a misunderstanding is going to make that go away overnight."
Casey isn't entirely sure she can bring herself to share in her mother's apparent faith just yet, but she would be lying if she tries to pretend it isn't comforting, either way. And even though she has to stifle a yawn, she allows Penny to pull her into an embrace, her body shifting until she can lean against her mother's side.
For a moment, she almost relaxes enough to doze off, but a sudden realization has her bolting upright again in seconds, her eyes blown wide even as she discovers she has clearly caught her mother off guard.
"Jesus Christ."
"What? Casey, sweetheart, what is it?"
"What the hell am I gonna tell Dad?"
…
When Evelyn Saunders wakes the following morning, it is with sweat-soaked skin, and a soundless scream lodged within her throat.
Scrabbling to free her legs from the sheets they seem to have become tangled in, she manages to swing her feet over the edge of the bed and push herself to stand. Her entire body seems to tremble as she stumbles over to the duffle bag resting on the carpeting near the dresser, and she tugs at the zipper while her teeth seem to chatter without cause.
Belatedly, she darts a glance back to the bed, because she'd felt Casey clamber in with her at some point during the night, but it is empty now. Evie can hear the dim murmurs of conversation that seem to come from the kitchen just down the hall.
Satisfied that she is alone, she rummages beneath the hastily packed clothing she stowed inside the bag until her fingertips bump against something more substantial. And she allows her eyes to slip closed once she reassures herself that the package is still where it is supposed to be, her entire body seeming to slump as relief takes precedence over her fear.
Evie forces herself to breathe. To remember that she is with friends now. People that will help her. She tries to reassure herself that the last Aiden knew, she was going home to Tulsa. And she had done what she could to make sure her trail went cold after that. A false lead to Ohio. Another to Florida. Mexico. Washington state.
She hopes he will exhaust himself searching in those areas. That California will be the last place he thinks to look. But even with that thought in mind, Evie cannot seem to forget the final words he hissed at her before she had destroyed her phone.
"You're in over your head now, love. And when I find you, you will pay."
A shiver rolls through her at the memory, and Evie withdraws her hand from the bag in seconds, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she tries to keep her breathing level. Even. Calm. Terror seizes around her heart, because she cannot shake the feeling that her troubles will find a way to tangle with her friends' lives as well…
Guilt wars with that terror, because in spite of her instinctive desire to find something familiar in the wake of everything she's endured in the last few months, alone, she knows she will never be able to forgive herself if anyone else gets hurt because of her own foolish choices.
Gritting her teeth, Evie zips her duffle bag closed once again, and turns until she can lean her back against the dresser nearby, her knees drawing inward while her arms wind around them to keep them in place near her chest.
"Damn it, Evie, what the hell are you doing?"
Her head bumps against the surface of the dresser with a dull thud, because the answer is something that Evie simply does not know.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid—"
"Hey Ev—you awake?"
Evie flinches at the sound of Casey's soft call through the still-closed door to the bedroom, and scrambles to stand before it can open with the soft creak of a well-used hinge. She watches as Casey looks at her, her brow furrowing, and Evie does what she can to rearrange her features into something less fearful and more—at ease.
For a moment, her friend simply continues to watch her in silence, but then something in her own expression seems to shift, whatever concern or suspicion she might be feeling fading away to be replaced by a soft smile.
"Mom made eggs and bacon if you're hungry."
"Yeah. Yeah, I—I am," Evie replies, forcing a smile to her own lips, the fingers of her right hand lifting to run through sleep-tousled hair as she moves to join her friend at the door, "Any chance you guys have hazelnut coffee creamer?"
"Check the fridge and maybe you'll see."
Evie is surprised at the ready peal of laughter that escapes her in response to the remark, but she does not allow that surprise to show in her expression, instead choosing to follow after Casey as she leads the way back down the hall to the kitchen. And in spite of her worry, and guilt, and fear, she tries to force herself to settle for living in the moment, at least for the time-being.
She knows she owes her friend the truth. That she should come clean, because if Aiden does find her here, they deserve to know what is coming.
A part of her wonders if, once they know the truth, they will want to send her away. If whatever affection Casey's family had so readily extended her way will disappear, when they realize she's put them in harm's way. It isn't exactly like Evie doesn't know that would be a rational reaction, but the thought of it still stings, either way.
She tries to persuade herself to believe that Casey wouldn't do that. That Penny wouldn't do that. And by the time the two of them reach the kitchen, her features have once again arranged into what she hopes will be a convincing smile.
Evie has absolutely no idea how long she has before her entire life goes up in flames, but she is determined to savor the connection with the family she has in North Island for as long as she can until it does.
…
What's that? Did I just add—more—drama on top of the already present drama in Top Gun canon? Why yes. Yes I did! Oops? Hopefully none of you mind that particular development all that much? I want to keep to the theme of TG in general, but I worry about things becoming boring if I'm just spitting events we already know about back at you, just with Casey thrown in here and there along the way. So hopefully my attempt to rectify that isn't too jarring? As I always say, there's a method to my madness! I promise things will (hopefully) begin making sense over time!
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that has taken the time to read, follow, favorite and review this story thus far! And special thanks to batgirlinmetropolisoncybertron, SirenWolf28, Hales, and ChiTown4ever for leaving such lovely feedback the last time around! I appreciate your time and support so much more than you know and it is my sincerest hope that you all continue to enjoy where the story goes from here! Especially since next time, we'll get more of Rooster's thoughts (because I'm evil, and that means that I can't just let he and Casey be happy so easily), and veer back to what the rest of our characters are up to as well!
Until next time, darlings…
MOMM