Pushing herself up to stand with trembling arms, Casey swallows past the lingering burn of bile stinging her throat, her body protesting the sudden loss of the cool tiles of the bathroom floor enough to nearly drive her back to her knees. A faint sheen of sweat lingers on her brow, her lips thinning into a line as she maneuvers herself to stand before the sink. In the course of her decision to return home, she neglected to fully consider the myriad of realities that could betray her secret. That the constant bouts of nausea that plague her throughout the day aren't exactly something her mother will overlook.
A frown pulls at the corners of her mouth as she regards her pale reflection in the mirror above the sink, her hands already dropping to the hem of her shirt. Carefully, she lifts the fabric. Turns to the side. Runs her fingers along the plane of her stomach.
Nothing has changed. Not yet, anyway. But Casey knows all too well that soon, she will be running out of time.
Soon, she will no longer be able to hide something she isn't sure she is brave enough to disclose.
Smoothing the hem of her shirt down again, Casey takes a moment to close her eyes. To breathe in through her nose. Out through her mouth. Instead of the roiling of mere moments before, her stomach has now shifted to feel as though it is twisted into an immovable knot.
Casey's hand reaches for the toothbrush she'd placed on the sink nearby after unpacking a bit the previous night, wanting to rid herself of the burning that still remains inside her mouth. For a moment, she seizes on a ludicrous idea. The thought that maybe, if she can remove the bitter taste, she can ignore reality for just a little while longer.
Almost immediately, she rolls her eyes at the prospect. Dismisses it, because there is absolutely no way it will ever work. It is nothing more than the foolish hope of the little girl she used to be. Someone who always longed for a world that would never change. A life that would never change.
But she cannot have that life anymore. Not now.
Not when her own decisions—choices made in split seconds—are quickly becoming impossible to outrun.
After leaving the bar the previous night, she'd spent what felt like hours sitting on the edge of the bed in her old room, staring at her phone. Wavering between taking a leap of faith and making a phone call, as opposed to tossing her phone aside and avoiding the truth, just as she had been from the moment she arrived. In a surprising rush of boldness, she had actually picked up the phone. Selected the appropriate contact, and pressed 'dial'. But as soon as the familiar voicemail greeting began to echo in her mind, Casey lost her nerve.
A glance at her phone when she woke up showed Bradley still had not returned that call. And despite her best efforts, Casey cannot help but wonder if that is some sort of sign.
A sign that she would be better off coming to terms with all of this on her own.
Releasing a sigh, Casey is somewhat startled to realize that in the midst of her distraction, she still managed to finish the task of brushing her teeth on auto-pilot. And even though she would be lying to pretend she is not more than a little apprehensive to join her mother and Amelia where she can hear both chatting quietly in the kitchen, she knows the longer she remains hidden away, the more suspicion she will earn.
Something she truly does not want to encounter, given she is still more than a little convinced that the first person that she should be coming clean to is the one other person whose life is potentially about to be turned upside down.
One last steadying breath is all she allows herself before she slips from the bathroom into the hall, and heads to the kitchen, instead, pointedly avoiding a trek back to her room to check her phone for any missed texts or calls. And by the time she arrives, she thinks she might actually be capable of managing a halfway convincing appearance of normality.
Or at least she will be capable so long as she deflects any and all conversation away from her reasons for coming home right off the bat.
"No Slider this morning?"
"Just missed him," Penny informs, glancing up from the task of refilling a mug of coffee to look her oldest daughter in the eye, "Coffee?"
"Actually I was hoping you might have some tea."
"Middle drawer next to the fridge."
"Thanks."
"Mom made pancakes," Amelia chimes in, her grin nearly blinding as Casey turns with a packet of the aforementioned tea in her hand to look her way, "Banana chocolate chip. Which, interestingly enough, is how I found out my sister was home, since she conveniently forgot to wake me up when she got in last night."
"Maybe I didn't want to keep you up late on a school night."
"I have first period free. Try again."
"Oh, right. I forgot you were a major nerd who already has more than enough credits lined up to graduate."
Casey would have been aware of Amelia's answering roll of the eyes even if she'd been blindfolded, and she abandons her tea for a moment to pull her half-sister into an embrace, instead. In spite of whatever may have transpired over the years surrounding Amelia's father, it never managed to come between them. Casey had adored her younger sister from the moment she was born.
And regardless of her own apprehension over what is to come, Casey would be a fool to pretend Amelia's response to her return is not enough to put those misgivings from her mind.
Even if the relief is only temporary, she is far more grateful for it than she could ever say.
"How long are you staying this time?"
"As long as it takes until Mom wants to kick me out."
"Right. Guess I won't be seeing you for dinner then."
"Ouch."
"Just calling it as I see it."
"Maybe she'll surprise us both, and you'll end up being the one who gets kicked out," Casey retorts, dodging out of the way before Amelia can land the retaliatory shove aimed at her shoulder, her attention shifting back to the task of preparing her tea not long after, "Stranger things have happened."
"The only way I'm kicking either of you out is if you leave me to eat all of these pancakes by myself."
Although the idea of consuming anything beyond the tea she is preparing is almost enough to set Casey's stomach to roiling again, she does her best to avoid allowing any of that to show in her expression. She accepts the plate her mother hands her, and slides into one of the seats at the table with Amelia at her side.
As soon as she realizes her mother is sliding into the seat across from her, Casey can feel her heart launching into her throat. Wedging there, and making it near to impossible to breathe, because she recognizes the expression Penny wears as one indicative of an impending question. A question she should have seen coming from a mile away.
Her body tenses, everything that makes her her suddenly feeling brittle enough to crack beneath the weight of her nerves. But as soon as she hears what it is that her mother is actually asking her, she feels herself unwinding just as quickly.
Strange, considering the constant whiplash between tension and relief is almost more jarring than the chaos that she fears will come once everything she is keeping to herself finally comes out into the open.
"Slider's with Ice."
It takes a moment for comprehension to set in after her mother speaks. For the meaning behind the sudden shift in the older woman's expression to become clear. Casey risks a glance at Amelia, and dread coils around her heart as soon as she realizes the younger girl is studiously avoiding her gaze.
The idea of Ice and Slider spending any amount of time together isn't all that unlikely, on its own. The two had been something of a package deal for as long as Casey can remember. But that coupled with the concern in her mother's expression—Amelia's sudden silence—can only mean one thing.
Seconds before, she had been utterly desperate for anything that would keep the majority of the conversation away from her. Her circumstances. The reason she'd come home. But now?
Now, the realization of precisely how selfish that desire is hits her like a slap in the face.
"The cancer is back."
The words come out as barely above a whisper, and Casey forces herself to place the mug of tea she'd been attempting to drink on the table in front of her before her hands tremble enough to send it crashing to the floor. Aware of the sensation of her mother's hand seizing her own, she does what she can to look her in the eye.
Almost as soon as she does, she wishes she could look away, the knife that twists inside of her chest forceful enough to bring the burn of tears to the corners of her eyes.
"Jo just called the other day."
"Well there's—there's treatment, right? Different chemo regimens than what they did before?"
"That's what they're trying to find out today."
In spite of the obvious hope her mother has that the words will spark some sort of optimism, Casey finds that they almost do the precise opposite. Trying to find an option to save the man who is like a second father to her—her godfather—is a lot less promising than having that option already in hand.
She wants to believe there is hope. She wants that more than words can possibly say. But the panic that seizes her at the potential for the opposite outcome is nearly strangling, her tangled thoughts already turning in another direction before she can fully catch up.
"Does Maggie know? Ben? Or—"
"Maggie's flight should land later this afternoon," Penny says, already able to sense her daughter's reluctance to actually say another name out loud, something she would have been capable of with or without also noticing the visible wince that passes across Casey's face not long after, "Jo didn't know about exact arrivals for anyone else."
"Right."
"I'm going with Jo to pick Maggie up at the airport if you—"
"Yeah. Yeah, when do we leave?"
If Penny is at all startled by the rapid response, she does not mention anything, a fact for which Casey is unbelievably grateful, even if she knows she does not fully deserve such a thing at all. Latching onto this—onto a reason to keep moving—is hardly the best way to outrun her own emotions. And that is precisely what she is doing. Casey knows that. Her mother knows that. Hell, even Amelia can probably see it, plain as day.
Already running on fumes, emotionally, there is realistically only so much more she can give before everything starts to fall apart. But that isn't enough to stop Casey from trying to push the limit anyway.
Don't think. Just do.
If she can cling to those words for just a little longer, maybe a solution to everything will not seem so impossible to find.
"After I get Amelia to school, I'll swing back to pick you up."
Nodding, Casey moves to stand, the gnawing need to keep doing something, rather than remaining stationary prompting the act far more than any conscious thought of her own. Almost immediately she follows the line of her mother's gaze as it lands on the uneaten pancakes. A welcome-home treat she hadn't been able to come even close to trying, all things considered. And before Penny can say anything about it, Casey turns back to snag the plate, forcing a smile because the idea of doing anything other than making a promise she isn't sure she can keep is suddenly too much.
"Maybe I can take these for the road?"
"Tupperware's still in the cupboard by the stove."
It is easy to give in to the pull of distraction in menial tasks. Easier, at least, than continuing to go around and around in her own mind over what on earth she is supposed to do to face reality as it pertains to both her own situation, and that of someone she honestly cannot imagine a world without.
She can feel her mother watching her, even as she returns to the table to give Amelia one final embrace before she heads back to her room, and her sister takes off for school. It surprises her that somehow, the prospect of encountering any probing questions pertaining to her own reaction to everything on the way to the airport suddenly pales in light of something far more important.
It pales significantly, in light of the realization that the sensation she feels—like being sucker punched—in response to the news about Ice is likely next to nothing when compared to the reality faced by his children. His wife.
And like hell is she going to do anything less than whatever she can to help them, when they've done all of that and more for her.
…
No matter how many times Pete Mitchell replays Admiral Cain's words in his mind as he packs his things for departure, he still cannot entirely persuade himself to believe they are true.
"Escort this man off the base. Take him to his quarters. Wait with him while he packs his gear."
After hearing those words, he thought it was all over. That he'd finally gone too far. Tested too many limits, and the flameout of his career had finally caught up with him despite his best efforts to avoid it. Regardless of how many times he might have told himself this was truly inevitable, he still felt the impact of the words. Of what they would mean, slamming into him like a freight train.
His throat had closed up. It became nearly impossible to suck in a breath. And Cain hadn't been done with him, even in spite of it all.
"I want him on the road to North Island within the hour."
North Island.
Top Gun.
Home.
It certainly isn't the news he would have expected. Pete knows Cain sure as hell didn't see it coming. The man's expression certainly gave every reason to believe he'd have loved nothing more than to end a thirty-some year career just like that. But he hadn't gotten his way.
"It galls me to say it, but, for reasons known only to the Almighty and your guardian angel, you've been called back to Top Gun."
Pete still doesn't know the specifics behind the decision. He doesn't know what it all entails. But even then, the uncertainty isn't exactly something that gives him pause. Not when he's made an entire career—an entire life—out of split second actions, the consequences for which were never fully realized until later on.
The unknown doesn't scare him. It never has, with one glaring exception. The day he learned he was going to be a father. Penny had been the one going through the majority of the changes, but he would have been a liar to pretend he hadn't felt as though the walls were closing in around him, as well.
Jo had been the one to pull him upright after that particular spiral, and even lacking many of the details of this current assignment he is heading to, Pete is entirely willing to bet that her husband might be the one behind it.
How funny, that it always seems to be a Kazansky, pulling his ass from the fire before he had a chance to get burned.
A laugh escapes as Pete finishes packing the limited things he plans to take with him to North Island, and he turns to face the man assigned to remain with him until he leaves. A man who is clearly no more thrilled to be here than Cain had been at the outcome of their earlier encounter on the whole.
His expression is stone-like. A flicker of something Pete thinks might be resignation lights in the man's eyes at the unexpected sound of his charge's laughter over seemingly nothing at all.
Even knowing the grin he flashes at the man will hardly earn him any favors, Pete is not exactly able to resist. Because somehow, despite being well-aware of how he has already tempted fate far more times than he can count, he cannot seem to stop.
His companion's expression does not waver in the slightest, even when Pete brushes past him to head out of the hangar. To his bike. Open road.
And just like hundreds of other times before, he willingly—freely—takes the first step toward the unknown.
…
Greetings, my loves! And welcome to chapter two! Yet again, I've gone slightly rogue, creating something completely new as opposed to reposting something we've all seen before. But I wanted to lay a bit more groundwork for our characters before diving into the main plot, unlike how I operated when I initially uploaded the story. So hopefully, as we start to shift into more familiar territory (but still with some shifts in plot) everything starts to make sense?
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 so far! I appreciate all of you so very much more than you know! And I hope you enjoy this installment as much as the last!
Until next time…
angstytalesrx