AN: This is the full version of the story of which my one-shot story, Wings of Change is based on, if you haven't read that, I'd ask you to kindly go and read it and leave a review.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned here.
In The Air Tonight
authored by WingsuitFlying
Chapter 1 – Memories
Austin, Texas is a city of vibrant culture, a place where the notes of guitars blend with the sizzling scent of barbecue. But for Donovan Grimm, known simply as Don it's a landscape of departures, a stage where the people he loved always seem to be leaving.
It starts with his father, Lieutenant James Grimm, a man whose presence was as commanding as the planes he flew. Donovan could still remember the day the uniformed officers arrived at their doorstep, their somber expressions etched into memory like a carving in stone. Lt. Grimm, a naval aviator, had disappeared in action, leaving behind a family shattered by absence.
Years pass, and Donovan's oldest brother, John, who became the new figurehead of the family after their father's disappearance. With his father gone, John steps into the role of protector and guide. But one day, the call of duty beckons louder than the whispers of home. John packs his bags and leaves for the U.S. Rangers, leaving Don to grapple with the void once again.
"Don, things won't be the same," John says, his gaze filled with determination. "But you'll see, I'll make you proud."
And just as Don adjusts to this new normal, it happens again. This time, it's Mark, the second pillar in their family structure, who makes the decision to enlist in the U.S. Marines. Don pleads with him, his heart heavy with the weight of impending loneliness.
"You can't leave, Mark," Don's voice cracked with emotion. "I'm not ready for this. I can't do this without you!"
Mark's response is gentle, yet firm, his eyes reflecting the same sense of duty that had guided their father and older brother.
"I'll always be there for you, Don," Mark says, his hand resting on Donovan's shoulder. "But sometimes, the flower will never blossom if it stays in the shadow of the tree."
Donovan tries to hold back tears as Mark ruffles his dirty blonde hair, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips. With a final kiss on their mother's cheek, Mark picks up his bag and heads out into the world beyond Austin.
As Donovan watches his brother's retreating figure, a sense of emptiness settles in his chest. The streets of Austin seem quieter now, the music less vibrant. Yet, amidst the ache of loss, there is a flicker of pride. Each departure is a testament to the strength and resilience of the Grimm family, a reminder that they carry the spirit of their father and brothers within them.
Two years drift by like leaves on a river, each day carrying Don further from the familiar streets of Austin and closer to his own destiny. When the acceptance letter arrives from the Naval Academy, it's as if a torch has been passed from father to son, igniting a flame of determination within him.
The decision isn't easy. Donovan knows the risks, the haunting echoes of his father's disappearance still reverberating in his mind. Yet, the call to the skies is too potent to resist. He wants to soar like his father had, to carve his path through the clouds and honor the legacy that had shaped his family.
The first day at the Naval Academy dawns with a crispness in the air, carrying the promise of new beginnings. Don stands outside Bancroft Hall, the massive dormitory that would be his home for the coming years. His heart beats with a mix of excitement and nerves, wondering what the future held within these hallowed halls.
As he steps into the bustling corridors, Donovan can't help but feel a sense of awe at the grandeur of his surroundings. The Naval Academy is a world unto itself, a place where the best and brightest converged to forge their paths as future leaders of the Navy.
Navigating the labyrinth of hallways, Donovan finally arrives at his assigned room. The door stands open, revealing a bare but tidy space awaiting its occupants. He takes a moment to survey the room, imagining the camaraderie and challenges that lay ahead.
"Hey there! You must be my new roommate," a friendly voice breaks through Donovan's thoughts, and he turns to see a tall young man with a warm smile standing in the doorway.
"Yeah, I'm Donovan," he replies, extending his hand.
"Reuben Fitch," the young man introduces himself, shaking Donovan's hand firmly.
Reuben is born in Spartanburg, South Carolina, a town steeped in the legacy of the Civil War. Growing up as an African-American in the Deep South, Reuben faced discrimination and prejudice from an early age. But rather than let it hold him back, he used it as fuel to propel himself forward. He has a presence that exudes both confidence and approachability. His warm demeanor immediately puts Don at ease, and he feels a spark of connection between them.
"Spartanburg, South Carolina," Reuben says, answering the unspoken question in Donovan's eyes. "What about you?"
"Austin, Texas," Donovan replies, a hint of nostalgia tugging at his heartstrings. "Quite a ways from home."
Reuben nods understandingly. "Same here. But hey, we're in this together, right?"
From that moment on, a bond begins to form between Donovan and Reuben. They spent the day unpacking their belongings, sharing stories of their hometowns, and swapping tales of their aspirations for the future. Donovan learns that Reuben came from a family of educators, his parents instilling in him a deep sense of service and duty.
"I've always wanted to make a difference," Reuben explains as he carefully arranges his books on the desk. "And what better way than serving in the Navy?"
Donovan nods, feeling a kinship with Reuben's sense of purpose. "I know what you mean. My dad was a naval aviator. I've always dreamed of following in his footsteps."
Reuben's eyes light up with interest. "That's incredible, man. You're carrying on his legacy."
As the day turns to evening, Donovan and Reuben find themselves deep in conversation, their voices blending with the hum of activity in the dormitory. They talk about their families, their fears and hopes, and the challenges that lay ahead at the Academy.
"I have a feeling we're going to be good friends, Reuben." Donovan says, a smile tugging at his lips.
Reuben grins back, a sense of camaraderie blossoming between them. "Absolutely, Donovan. We've got each other's backs."
In the heart of Bancroft Hall, amidst the flurry of new beginnings and the echoes of footsteps in the corridors, Donovan Grimm found a new constant in his ever-changing life. In Reuben, he discovered not just a roommate, but a friend who would stand by his side through the trials and triumphs of their Naval Academy journey. And as they settled into their new home away from home, Donovan couldn't help but feel a glimmer of excitement for the adventures that awaited them, together.
The Naval Academy greetes Donovan with its ironclad discipline and relentless challenges. The first year, known as Plebe Summer, is a trial by fire, designed to strip away any semblance of weakness and forge raw recruits into resilient warriors.
As Donovan navigates the demanding routine of drills, classes, and inspections, he finds himself drawing strength from memories of his father's unwavering resolve and his brothers' words of encouragement. Mark, now miles away, remains a steadfast presence, his voice a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty.
"Hey Don, I heard Plebe Summer is no joke," Mark's voice crackles through the phone, a rare moment of connection amidst their busy lives.
"Yeah, it's tough," Donovan admits, exhaustion evident in his voice.
"But I know you, little brother. You're tough as nails," Mark's voice is filled with pride. "Don't let those midshipmen punk you, alright?"
Donovan chuckles despite the weariness in his bones. "I won't, Mark. Thanks for always having my back."
"Always, Don. Remember that you're carrying on Dad's legacy, and I know you'll make us all proud," Mark's words are a beacon of support, cutting through the doubts that lingered in Donovan's mind.
The weeks turn into months, and Donovan finds his footing amidst the rigorous training and academic challenges. Each day brings new tests of endurance and determination, but with each hurdle cleared, he feels himself growing stronger, both in body and spirit.
One evening, as he stands beneath the starry sky outside the Academy grounds, Donovan thinks of his family back in. His father, whose absence was a constant ache in his heart. His mother, a nurse who does everything she can to support her boys, John, the stalwart eldest brother who was now serving in the Rangers. And Mark, the protector and guide, whose words echoed in his mind like a mantra.
"I'll make you proud, Dad," Donovan whispers into the night breeze, his gaze fixed on the distant stars that seemed to hold the answers to his unspoken fears.
The second year at the Naval Academy brings new responsibilities and challenges for Donovan and Reuben. As they settle into their routines of rigorous training and demanding coursework, they also find themselves volunteering in the admissions office, where prospective candidates arrive in droves, each with dreams of joining the ranks of the Navy.
It was in this bustling hub of activity that Donovan first laid eyes on Natasha Trace, a fiery spirited girl from San Francisco, California. She exuded a sense of determination and confidence that caught Donovan's attention from the moment she stepped through the doors.
The admissions office bustles with activity as Don, a second-year student, volunteers to assist with the influx of new arrivals. He sorts through paperwork, answers questions, and guides incoming plebes through the enrollment process. Amidst the flurry of activity, his attention is drawn to a young woman standing nervously by the entrance.
Natasha stands at the threshold, her posture rigid with anticipation. She clutches a folder tightly to her chest, her eyes scanning the room with a mix of apprehension and determination. Don can't help but notice her, the way she held herself with a quiet strength that belied her nervousness.
Sensing her hesitation, Don approaches with a warm smile. "Hey there," he greets her, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Are you here for admissions?"
Natasha nods, offering a timid smile in return. "Yes, I just got accepted," she admits, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Well, congratulations!" Don exclaims, genuine excitement coloring his tone. "That's a big step. Welcome to the Naval Academy."
As they exchange introductions and pleasantries, Don notices the spark of determination in Natasha's eyes. Despite her nerves, there is a fierce resolve within her that spoke volumes about her character. He finds himself drawn to her strength and resilience, admiring the way she faces this new chapter in her life with courage.
With a friendly demeanor, Don offers to show Natasha around the campus, easing her transition into academy life. He leads her through the labyrinthine corridors, pointing out landmarks and sharing anecdotes about life as a midshipman. Along the way, they exchange stories, laughter, and the beginnings of a friendship that would shape their futures in ways they couldn't yet imagine.
As the day unfolded, Don couldn't shake the feeling that meeting Natasha was more than just chance—it was destiny. In her, he sees a kindred spirit, someone who shared his passion for service and dedication to duty. Little did he know that their paths would intertwine in ways that would change both of their lives forever.
Natasha Trace grew up in the vibrant city of San Francisco, California. From a young age, she was drawn to the thrill of flight, spending hours watching planes soar overhead and dreaming of one day taking to the skies herself.
One day, as Natasha navigates the maze of paperwork and requirements, Donovan can't help but notice her frustration with a particularly tricky form.
"Hey, need a hand with that?" Donovan offers, approaching her with a friendly smile.
Natasha looked up, relief washing over her features. "Oh, thank you! This form is driving me crazy."
Donovan chuckled, taking the form from her hands. "Let me take a look. I've been through this song and dance before."
As he guides Natasha through the intricacies of the paperwork, their conversation flows easily. They talk about their hometowns, their families, and the dreams that had brought them to the Naval Academy. Donovan found himself captivated by Natasha's passion for service and her determination to excel.
"You're a long way from Texas, cowboy." Natasha says with a smirk when Don tells her he's from Austin, Texas.
"That I am." Don replies with a smirk of his own as he helps her with the form.
"You're a lifesaver, Donovan," Natasha said, her eyes bright with gratitude as they finish the paperwork.
"Don't mention it," Donovan replied with a smile. "We're all in this together."
From that day on, Donovan takes Natasha under his wing, helping her navigate the challenges of Academy life. They study together late into the night, their laughter echoing through the halls of their dormitory. Natasha brings a sense of joy and adventure to Donovan's world, her presence a welcome respite from the rigors of training.
As they spend more time together, Donovan discovers layers to Natasha beyond her fiery exterior. She was kind-hearted, with a fierce loyalty to those she cared about. She also has a mischievous streak, always ready with a witty comeback or a playful prank.
"Natasha, you're going to get us in trouble one of these days," Donovan says, trying to stifle a laugh as she reveals her latest scheme.
"Where's the fun in playing it safe?" Natasha replies, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Their friendship blossoms amidst the trials and triumphs of Academy life. Donovan finds himself admiring Natasha's strength and resilience, her unwavering determination to succeed. In turn, Natasha finds in Donovan a steadfast companion, always there to lend a helping hand or a listening ear.
As the days turn into weeks, and the months into another year, Donovan realizes that Natasha had become more than just a friend. She had become a constant presence in his life, despite the only constants in his life being that people always leaving him up until that point, a beacon of light in the ever-changing landscape of the Naval Academy.
And as they stand side by side under the starry sky, gazing out at the expanse of the Academy grounds, Donovan knows that he had found something special in Natasha Trace. In her, he found a kindred spirit, a partner in adventure, and perhaps in time, something more.
The years at the Naval Academy seem to fly by in a whirlwind of training, study sessions, and unforgettable moments. Before Donovan and Reuben realize it, they find themselves just two weeks away from graduation, their time at the Academy coming to a close.
As they prepare for the final exams and last drills, the anticipation of graduation hangs in the air like a tangible force. Donovan and Reuben spent their days in a mixture of excitement and nostalgia, reminiscing about the journey they had shared from nervous plebes to confident midshipmen.
Natasha, always a vibrant presence in their lives, cheered them on every step of the way. She had become an integral part of their circle, her laughter and enthusiasm a constant source of joy. In the final days leading up to graduation, she stands by Donovan and Reuben's side, supporting them with unwavering encouragement.
"We made it, guys," Natasha says, her eyes shining with pride as they gather in their dormitory one evening. "I couldn't be happier for both of you."
Donovan smiles, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. "It feels surreal, doesn't it? From that first day at the admissions office to this moment."
Reuben nods, a sense of accomplishment settling over him. "We couldn't have done it without each other."
In the final days leading up to graduation, Donovan and Reuben immerse themselves in the traditions and ceremonies that mark the end of their time at the Academy. They spend late nights reminiscing about their shared experiences, the friendships forged in the crucible of training, and the dreams that had brought them here.
Finally, the day of graduation arrived, a bright and sunny morning that seemed to symbolize the dawn of a new chapter. Donovan and Reuben donned their crisp uniforms, their chests swelling with pride as they prepared to march in the ceremony.
Natasha was there, her enthusiasm infectious as she clapped and cheered for her friends. Her smile was a beacon of support as Donovan and Reuben joined their fellow midshipmen in formation, the notes of "Anchors Aweigh" filling the air.
As the ceremony progresses, Donovan and Reuben stand tall and proud, their eyes fixed on the dignitary who would present them with their diplomas. Each step closer to the stage felt like a culmination of years of hard work, dedication, and unwavering determination.
"Donovan Brian Grimm." The dignitary calls out his name as Don walks out to receive his diploma.
"Reuben Joseph Fitch." The dignitary reads out afterwards as Reuben follows his friend and roommate for the last four years.
Natasha claps enthusiastically as they shake hands with the dignitaries on stage, their smiles radiant with joy and relief. For Don, this moment marked the culmination of years of hard work and dedication, a testament to his unwavering determination and resilience. And for Reuben, it was a triumph over adversity, a testament to his strength and perseverance in the face of challenges.
When their names were called, Donovan and Reuben stepped forward, their hearts pounding with excitement. Natasha's cheers echoed in the background as they received their diplomas, the weight of the moment not lost on either of them.
As they stood on the stage, surrounded by their fellow graduates, Don couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the journey that had brought him here. From the day his father disappeared to this moment of triumph, he had carried his legacy with him every step of the way.
As the dignitary handed him his diploma, Donovan's gaze swept over the sea of faces in the audience. And there, amidst the cheering crowd, he caught sight of Natasha, her eyes shining with pride and joy.
With a smile that reached his eyes, Donovan raised his diploma high, a silent tribute to the family, friends, and mentors who had shaped his path. Beside him, Reuben did the same, their bond as strong as ever.
In that moment, amidst the applause and cheers, Don knew that he was ready for whatever the future held. With Natasha's unwavering support and Reuben steadfast friendship by his side, he was ready to soar into the next chapter of his life, honoring the legacy of his father and brothers.
And as they stood together on that stage, bathed in the glow of accomplishment, Don knew that the journey was far from over. But with Natasha's sweet but fiery spirit and Reuben unyielding loyalty, he was ready to face whatever challenges came their way.
In the heart of the Naval Academy, amidst the echoes of "Anchors Aweigh" and the cheers of loved ones, Don stood tall, a symbol of resilience and determination. And as he looked to the horizon, where the future awaited, he knew that the bonds forged in the crucible of the Academy would forever be his guiding light.
As the excitement of graduation day settled into a warm memory, Donovan finds himself back in the familiar confines of his dormitory room that he shared for the last four years with Reuben. The room that had been a witness to countless late-night study sessions, shared laughter, and moments of quiet reflection now held a bittersweet air.
Natasha stands by the window, her gaze fixed on the view of the Academy grounds bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Donovan senses the weight of the moment in the silence that enveloped them, the unspoken realization that their time together at the Academy was coming to an end.
Donovan moves about the room, his movements slow and deliberate as he packs his belongings into the familiar duffel bag. Each item he folded and placed into the bag carried with it a memory, a fragment of the journey that had led him to this moment.
"Hey," Donovan says softly, breaking the silence that hung between them.
Natasha turns from the window, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of emotions. "Hey."
There is a gentle sadness in her smile, a reflection of the unspoken understanding that their paths were about to diverge. Donovan feels a pang in his chest at the thought of leaving behind the friendships and memories that had become his anchor during his time at the Academy.
"I can't believe it's your time to leave," Natasha says, her voice barely above a whisper.
Donovan nods, his gaze lingering on her. "I know. It feels like just yesterday we were nervously walking into the admissions office."
Natasha chuckled softly, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. "Time flies, doesn't it?"
"It does," Donovan replies, his voice tinged with a sense of wistfulness. "But I'll never forget the moments we shared here."
As Donovan continues to pack his bags, Natasha moves closer to him, her presence a comforting warmth amidst the whirlwind of emotions. She reaches out a hand, her fingers brushing against his arm in a gentle gesture of support.
"Hey, Don," Natasha says, her voice soft yet determined. "I know we're about to go our separate ways, but I want you to know that I'll always be here for you."
Donovan meets her gaze, his icy blue eyes meeting her chocolate brown ones, his heart swelling with gratitude for the friendship they had forged. "Thank you, Natasha. I'll always treasure the moments we shared."
With a sense of finality, Donovan zips up his duffel bag, the sound echoing in the quiet room. He slings the bag over his shoulder, feeling the weight of it against his frame.
"I guess this is it," Donovan says, his voice tinged with a mixture of sadness and anticipation.
Natasha nods, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's not goodbye, Don. It's just 'see you later.'"
With those words hanging in the air, Donovan and Natasha stand in the room that had been their sanctuary, their haven amidst the rigors of Academy life. The memories of laughter, late-night study sessions, and shared dreams fill the space around them.
As Donovan makes his way towards the door, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he feels a gentle tug at his heartstrings. Leaving the room that held so many memories was not easy, and the weight of impending departure settled heavily on his shoulders.
Just as he reached for the doorknob, a soft voice called out behind him, breaking the silence that hung in the air.
"Don."
Donovan turns, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of Natasha standing there, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Without a word, she closed the distance between them in a few quick steps, her arms enveloping him in a tight embrace.
Surprised but deeply touched, Donovan instinctively wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. He could feel the warmth of her body against his, her heartbeat echoing the rhythm of his own.
Natasha buries her face in Don's chest, her breath warm against his uniform. For a moment, they stood there, locked in an embrace that spoke volumes without a single word.
"Don," Natasha's voice was barely a whisper, muffled against his chest. "I'm going to miss you."
The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their unspoken feelings. Don closes his eyes, savoring the moment, wishing he could freeze time to stay in this embrace forever.
"I'm going to miss you too, Natasha," Don replied, his voice thick with emotion.
They stand there for what felt like an eternity, the world outside their room fading away as they hold onto each other. In that moment, Don realizeshow deeply he had come to care for Natasha, the sweet but fiery girl from San Francisco, California and how she had become a cherished part of his life during their time at the Academy.
"I don't want to let you go," Natasha murmured against his chest, her voice trembling with emotion.
"Me neither," Donovan whispers, his heart aching at the thought of leaving her behind.
As they finally pull apart, Donovan gently brushed a stray tear from Natasha's cheek, his thumb lingering on her soft skin. Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them.
"I'll never forget you, Natasha," Donovan says, his voice filled with sincerity.
Natasha smiles through her tears, a bittersweet expression on her face. "Pinky promise?" she asks, her chocolate brown eyes never leaving his icy blue ones as she holds out her pinky finger.
"Pinky promise." Don says as he entwines his pinky finger with hers as Natasha smiles through her tears and hugs him again.
With a final embrace that spoke of unspoken feelings and shared memories, Donovan and Natasha held onto each other for a moment longer before reluctantly pulling away. Donovan picks up his duffel bag once again, feeling the weight of it against his shoulder.
"Take care of yourself out there, Don," Natasha said softly as they parted, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"I will," Donovan replied, his voice filled with determination. "And I'll never forget the sweet but fiery girl from San Francisco."
With a final nod and a lingering gaze, Don left the room that had been his home for the past years. As he made his way down the familiar hallways of the Naval Academy, his heart was filled with a sense of gratitude for the friendships and memories that had shaped him.
And as he stepped out into the world beyond the Academy, Donovan knew that no matter where life's winds carried him, the bonds forged in the crucible of the Academy would forever be his guiding light. With Natasha's sweet but fiery spirit and Reuben's unwavering loyalty in his heart, he was ready to face the next chapter of his life with courage and determination.
The next chapter of Don's life unfolded with a sense of purpose and determination. Leaving the Naval Academy behind was a bittersweet transition, but he carried with him the memories of Natasha's embrace and the friendships that had sustained him through the challenges of Academy life.
With his sights set on the skies, Donovan applies himself diligently to the rigorous training required for flight school. The days were filled with intense study sessions, simulator drills, and physical conditioning, all in preparation for the moment he would take to the skies as a naval aviator.
Months pass in a blur of activity, each day bringing him closer to his dream of following in his father's footsteps. Finally, the day arrived when Donovan receives the news he had been waiting for - he had been accepted to flight school. The excitement and pride that surge through him are almost overwhelming as he prepares for this new chapter of his journey.
As Donovan stood on the tarmac, the roar of jet engines filling the air, he feels a sense of exhilaration unlike anything he had ever experienced. The aircraft, sleek and powerful, seemed to beckon him forward, inviting him to take flight.
With nerves and excitement coursing through his veins, Donovan climbs into the cockpit, the familiar scent of aviation fuel and the hum of the controls surrounding him. As the aircraft taxies down the runway, Donovan's heart raced with anticipation, the thrill of finally achieving his dream propelling him forward.
And then, with a powerful surge of adrenaline, the aircraft lifted off the ground, soaring into the boundless blue sky. Donovan's heart soars with it, a sense of freedom and accomplishment washing over him as he took control of the aircraft.
The days that follow are a whirlwind of training flights, navigation exercises, and aerial maneuvers. Donovan throws himself into his training with everything he had, each flight bringing him closer to mastering the art of aviation.
And then, one bright morning, Donovan stood on the tarmac once again, this time in his dress uniform, surrounded by fellow graduates of flight school. The sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink as they awaited the commencement of the graduation ceremony.
As the dignitary takes the stage, the air was filled with a sense of anticipation and accomplishment. Donovan stood tall and proud, the wings of a naval aviator pinned to his chest, a symbol of the dedication and hard work that had brought him to this moment.
When his name was called, Don steps forward, his heart pounding with emotion. He feels like his heart might explode out of his chest as he received his wings, the weight of them a physical representation of the dreams he had chased and the challenges he had overcome.
In that moment, as he stood on the stage with his fellow graduates, Don Grimm feels a sense of fulfillment unlike anything he had ever experienced. The applause and cheers of the crowd washed over him like a wave, the culmination of years of dedication and unwavering determination.
With a proud smile, Donovan looks out in the skies, hoping that his father is looking down at him with a proud look on his face. In that moment, he knew that he was ready to take on whatever challenges awaited him in the skies.
As the sun sets on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the scene, Don stands tall, a symbol of the resilience and courage that had carried him through his journey. With his wings spread wide and his heart full of gratitude, he looked towards the future with anticipation and excitement.
With a final salute to the setting sun, Don took his first steps towards a future among the clouds, ready to chase his dreams with courage, determination, and the unwavering belief that anything was possible.
He's assigned to a Fleet Replacement Squadron – the VFA-122 Flying Eagles. He meets new people and makes new acquaintances, but like his brother said – people grow apart when they don't see each other. He changes too – he's no longer just Don, instead he's "Reaper". His squadron mates come up with it as a play on his family name and his mother greatly disapproves of the callsign, claiming that he doesn't really look like a "Reaper" and he has to constantly remind her that people don't pick their own callsign.
Just as he thinks he found a permanent place he receives a transfer order after a year – he's being transferred to the VFA-14 Tophatters. The Oldest and the Boldest.
Even though they grew apart since their Naval Academy days he still sees his family and his friends, Natasha and Reuben. There are shore leaves, meetings and missions and deployments together, after all. Being a naval aviator means being the protectors of the country, which means needing to be everywhere all the time. It can get tiresome, but it's for the greater good. And he's always happy to see his friends again. But it's never the same, and their group is never really whole again. Sometimes only two of them are there and sometimes someone's off somewhere else.
That is until one day when his commanding officer Captain Edward "Venom" Farrier gives him an order to report to Top Gun. It's a tremendous honor and he promises to give his best. To his surprise he's reunited at Top Gun with Reuben. As it turns out, Reuben isn't just Reuben anymore either – he's "Payback". Reuben keeps claiming they called him that because of his ability to always get his payback, but Don is sure it's a play on Reuben's love for James Brown's song "The Payback".
Donovan's surprise is evident as he approaches Reuben, their eyes meeting in a moment of recognition and camaraderie. The years since their time at the Academy had transformed them both, turning them into skilled and respected pilots.
"Payback," Donovan greets him with a grin, the years melting away as they clasp hands in a firm handshake.
"Hey, Reaper! Long time no see!" Reuben replies, a sense of pride in his voice.
The reunion is a welcome one, their shared history and bond as brothers-in-arms evident in the easy way they fall back into their rhythm. Together, they navigate the intense training regimen of Top Gun, pushing themselves to new heights of excellence.
The fifteen weeks fly by in a blur of aerial maneuvers, simulated dogfights, and classroom sessions. Reuben's call sign "Payback" is a testament to his skill and precision in the air, earning him respect among their peers. Donovan, as "Reaper," proves to be a formidable adversary, his instincts and determination shining through in every exercise, his patience in the cockpit earning him the phrase "The Grim Reaper always takes his due".
As the final weeks of training approach, the competition among the pilots grows fierce. Each one vying for the top spot, determined to prove themselves as the best of the best. Donovan and Reuben find themselves at the forefront of the class, their friendly rivalry spurring them on to greater heights.
When the day of the final evaluation arrives, Donovan and Reuben stand side by side, their aircraft poised on the runway, ready to take flight. The sun rose on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the scene as they awaited their turn.
The air was charged with anticipation as Donovan and Reuben take off to the skies, their aircrafts dancing through the clouds in a display of precision and skill. Maneuver after maneuver, they push themselves to their limits, their training and dedication evident in every graceful turn and calculated move.
As they land back on the runway, the cheers of their fellow pilots fill the air. The evaluations were tallied, and then the results were announced - Reuben, "Payback," had finished first in their Top Gun class.
Donovan, "Reaper," was not far behind, his performance a testament to his skill and determination. As they stood on the tarmac, the wings of their aircraft glinting in the sunlight, Donovan feels a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over him.
"Congratulations, Payback," Donovan said, clapping Reuben on the shoulder with a grin.
"Thanks, Reaper," Reuben replied, a wide smile lighting up his face. "But we both know we couldn't have done it without each other. You made me push myself harder man."
Don isn't disappointed with the result - Reuben deserves that top spot. He thinks that Reuben is a hell of a pilot, and that he worked damn hard for it. Don is happy for his friend and claps and cheers him on louder than everyone else as Reuben receives the Top Gun trophy, but can't help but feel disappointed with himself, feeling like he let the memory of his old man down.
Their journey from the halls of the Naval Academy to the skies above as Top Gun graduates had been one of trials and triumphs, of friendship and camaraderie. As they look towards the horizon, the promise of new adventures awaiting them, Donovan and Reuben know that they are not just pilots - they were legends in the making.
And as they stood together on the runway, bathed in the glow of the California sun, they knew that the sky was no longer the limit - it was just the beginning.
In the present day, Cpt. Pete "Maverick" Mitchell is recalled to NAS North Island.
Maverick looks at the screen as the twelve Top Gun graduates deemed to be the best of the best show up one by one. Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace, Reuben 'Payback' Fitch, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, Javy 'Coyote' Machado, Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia, Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw Billy 'Fritz' Avalone, Logan 'Yale' Lee, Brigham 'Harvard' Lennox, Callie 'Halo' Bassett, Robert 'Bob' Floyd, Neil 'Omaha' Vikander.
His heart skips a beat as he sees Bradley on the screen. Bradshaw, the name haunts him, bringing back so many unwanted memories.
"Is there a problem, captain?" Cyclone asks Maverick, as he stands up in front of them, fighting the urge to stare a hole Maverick.
"You know there is, sir." Maverick says as he looks down,
Maverick gets dismissed after an awkward conversation, and his first instinct is to ride his bike straight down to the Hard Deck, the local bar that all the pilots went to after they finished up a day at the naval base.
While waiting for Penny to bring his drink over, he catches a couple of aviators by the darts, as one of them shoots shoots perfect bullseyes one after the other, even after his eyes are covered by the other one's hand. "No way you can make three in a row!" the other pilot says.
Suddenly, three more pilots enter the Hard Deck bar, one of them female. The moment she walks right through the doors, Coyote nudges Hangman beside him, who looks up from his game of pool, handing his pool cue over to his best friend, standing up straighter with a charming grin as Phoenix approaches.
"Oh, come on! What do we have here?" Hangman exclaims with a sarcastic smile. Coyote nudges him again, but Hangman refuses to back down. "If it ain't Phoenix!" Hangman turns to his best friend, refusing to stop, even as Phoenix is right in front of him, arms folded. "And here I thought we were special, Coyote. Turns out the invite went to anyone."
Phoenix glances behind her, glaring at the blonde pilot in front of her, "Fellas, this here's Bagman." She smirks.
"Hangman." He corrects, some things never change.
"Whatever." Her smirk doesn't falter and she doesn't back down, but she can swear she sees his matching smirk appear along with a twinkle in his eye. She turns to the pilots behind her, introducing proudly. "You're looking at the only naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill."
"Stop." His voice goes down a notch, suddenly gentler, trying to almost give him the look of humble.
Something inside Natasha tells her to stop, but she keeps going, tugging on his weak spots, hoping to destroy him, so she could once again, come out triumphant on top. She doesn't have anything personal against Hangman, but god damn it, he reminds her of a certain someone else that she barely reigns her anger in and not unleash her fury on him.
"Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean war." She continues to smirk, despite noticing Hangman's smirk falter for a second.
"Cold war." Coyote corrects her.
"Different wars, same century." Payback retorts in, instantly coming to Phoenix's defense, raising his eyebrows.
"Not this one." Fanboy chips in from behind.
Coyote looks between the two pilots behind her, "Who are your friends?"
"Payback." "Fanboy.", Reuben and Mickey introduce themselves.
Phoenix takes her eyes off Hangman, looking over at his best friend with a playful smile, "Hey, Coyote."
Coyote glances briefly over at Hangman before smiling back, "Hey."
Hangman, desperate to change the subject and relieve the tension already starting to brew and for the first time turn attention away from him, turns to the side. "Who's he?" He glances at a pilot dressed in the same uniform, with a nerdish look to him, round glasses, hand full of peanuts, watching their interactions silently without a word.
Coyote peels his eyes off Phoenix, looking in the direction Hangman had turned to. "Who's who?" He spots the same man and is instantly confused. "When did you get in?"
"Oh, I've been here the whole time." The pilot replies, dusting stray peanuts from his lap and chewing up quickly.
"The man's a stealth pilot." Hangman jokes, looking around to see if anyone catches it. "Literally." He adds, as Phoenix shakes her head with a smile.
"Weapons Systems Officer, actually." The pilot clarifies.
"With no sense of humor." Hangman looks around, waiting for someone else to pipe up, and save him from this dry conversation with someone who couldn't appreciate his humor.
Phoenix ignores the look Hangman is giving her, picking up a spare pool cue and twirling it aimlessly in her hand. "What do they call you?" She asks the Weapons Systems Officer.
"Bob." He replies flatly.
"No, your call sign." Phoenix insists.
"Uh…" He pauses, swallowing, before continuing, "Bob."
It clicks in Natasha's head. "Robert Floyd. You're my new backseater? From Lemoore?"
Bob nods. "Looks like it. Yeah."
Phoenix smiles, handing Bob the pool cue in her hand. "Nine-ball, Bob. Rack 'em."
Bob is hesitant about it, but takes it with a chuckle. "Okay."
Hangman rolls his eyes and saunters up to the bar to grab a couple more beers. "Penny my dear, I'll have three more on the old-timer." He turns on his charm, smiling at Penny. Penny smirks at the pilot seated at her bar, procuring three beers for Hangman, who winks back at the other pilot, "Much appreciated, Pops." He grabs the three beers, turning around ready to head back when he spots a familiar face enter the bar, not in uniform like the rest of them, but in some ridiculous Hawaiian style shirt.
Phoenix's voice rings across the bar, "Bradshaw! Is that you?" Rooster removes his sunglasses, hanging them on his wife beater. He approaches the pool table, standing behind Phoenix as she prepares to take her shot. "This is how I find out you're stateside?"
"Yeah, I just thought I'd surprise you." He replies with a smirk.
Phoenix lines her shot up, ensuring that she won't miss either target when she fires. Rooster groans and bends over and Phoenix smirks, standing up, "I guess I surprised you back." She turns around, offering her hand to Rooster. "It's good to see you."
"Good to see you too." Rooster agrees his voice faltering as he tries to gather his bearings.
Hangman sees them and holds on to the three bottles of beer, stopping by the jukebox to punch in a song he knows would annoy Rooster. He heads back to the pool table, handing a beer to Phoenix, who takes it with a scoff, and one to Coyote. Hangman holds on to the last one, setting it down at the side of the pool table, picking up a stray pool cue. "Bradshaw. As I live and breathe."
Rooster sighs, not wanting to play this game again, but succumbs anyway. "Hangman. You look…" There's a pause as he struggles to find a word for it, "Good." He decides.
Hangman smirks, knowing full well Rooster's disdain about him, ever since Phoenix had let it slip years ago, holding down on his own tongue, trying not to say the wrong thing and make her angry again. "Well, I am good, Rooster." He lines up a shot and takes it, the ball rolling perfectly into the hole. "I'm very good." He looks up, smirking. "In fact, I am too good to be true."
Coyote breaks the tension a little. "So, does anybody know what this special detachment is all about?"
Hangman chooses to ignore him, shrugging nonchalantly. "No, mission's a mission. They don't confront me. What I want to know: Who's gonna be team leader?" Hangman flashes the trademark smirk of his.
Natasha rolls her eyes in annoyance, as he continues, "And which one of you has what it takes to follow me?"
"Hangman, the only place you'll lead anyone is an early grave." Rooster quips back, and Phoenix has to give him credit for his quick wit, despite the fact she disapproves of the quip, it crossing a line and making the conversation personal.
Hangman's smirk falters for a second as he takes a walk around the pool table, passing Bob and handing him the pool cue before going up close to Rooster.
"Well, anyone who follows you is just gonna run out of fuel." Hangman quips back, standing face to face with Rooster. "But that's just you, ain't it, Rooster? You're snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment…" And he pauses, being overly dramatic about it, "That never comes." Slow ride plays in the background to emphasize his point as he adds with a snarky exclamation, "I love this song!"
Hangman walks away, as Phoenix shakes her head, "Well, he hasn't changed."
Rooster does the same, agreeing with Phoenix. "Nope. Sure hasn't."
At the same time the doors of the Hard Deck bar open, and four pilots saunter in. The four pilots in question – Donovan "Reaper" Grimm, Lawrence "High Roller" Barton, Troy "Sandman" Sanderson and Jackson "Joker" Hawker, saunter in with an aura of endless confidence, almost bordering on arrogance. As Don steps into the Hard Deck bar, he's greeted by the familiar sights and sounds that he had come to associate with the place. The soft glow of the neon signs, the low murmur of conversation, and the comforting aroma of beer and whiskey mingled together in the air, creating an atmosphere that was both inviting and nostalgic.
As she recognizes his voice, Natasha turns around in surprise to see him, dressed in his uniform, the gold Ray-Ban aviators perched on his nose as if it's a part of his own skin.
"I'm telling you, the Lincoln is longer" High Roller says, as he turns around to reply Joker. Reaper rolls his eyes in annoyance, this has been going on since they got in the car for the ride to the Hard Deck bar from NAS North Islands. It was the endless debate – Lincoln or Cadillac.
"What do you mean it's longer? Longer like my d-" Joker starts but catches himself as he sees how many women are in the bar "like my Johnson is longer" he whispers the last part.
"Yeah, we are not talking about a Volkswagen here." Reaper quips in with a smirk as he chews his gum, his aviators still perched on his nose as he walks inside. The quip causes High Roller and Sandman to burst out laughing as Joker mock glares at him and flips him off.
"This guy is not taking off his glasses. He's either blind or an asshole." Coyote muses about Reaper, seemingly like to no one as they look as he saunters to the bar with his group of friends.
"You're right about the last part." Natasha mumbles to herself.
Penny is behind the bar, a warm smile lighting up her face as she catches sight of him. "Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with his presence," she teases, setting down the glass she had been polishing to greet him properly.
"What brings you to my humble establishment, Donnie?" Penny affectionately asks as she smiles at him.
Don returns her smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over him at the sight of his her. "Just needed a change of scenery, Penny," he replies, sliding onto a stool at the bar. He looks over and nods at Maverick in camaraderie, noticing his pilot jacket.
"Thought I'd come and see how my favorite bartender is doing." Don continues as he reaches into his pocket to grab his phone, but catches himself at the last moment, as Penny points to the sign that hangs above the bar with her rules.
"Yeah I wouldn't do that, buddy." Maverick jumps in with a smile as Penny shoots him a playful glance. Don just shrugs and smiles at her, genuinely happy to see Penny again.
Penny chuckles, pouring him a glass of Lagavulin 16, Don's favourite, without needing to ask. "You always know just what to say to make a girl feel special," she quips back to Don, sliding the glass across the counter towards him. As Joker, High Roller and Sandman ponder what to order to drink, Don raises his glass to Penny and Maverick in salute and says "Cheers. To the olden days."
As he takes a sip of the Lagavulin 16, he lets the taste of smoke and peat dance in his throat as the amber liquid, or the "elixir of the gods" as Don nicknames it, coarses through his system.
"To the olden days, huh?" he hears a familiar voice behind him, his eyes widenining in surprise as he feels shock go through his spine. As he turns around he finds Natasha standing behind him, her arms crossed over her chest, her chocolate brown eyes giving away a fury barely under reign, barely under control as she waits for his response.
"Natasha?" Don asks, coming face to face with her, as his icy blue eyes meet her chocolate brown ones in sharp contrast.
And this wraps up the first chapter of the story! Reviews are always welcome - please review to tell me what you think of the first chapter.