Below The Hard Deck | A Top Gun Fanfiction

CHAPTER I

~2020~

Death is an unavoidable fact of life, one that becomes much clearer to those who find themselves working in one of the branches of the military. If you wear the uniform, odds are that you know at least one person who has passed away serving their country. If you don't, you definitely know someone who does. It's power for the course, a fact of the job that has just come to be accepted.

Despite all this, no amount of loss can ever prepare you for the loss of a child. Having to stand by as the life you created, the life you were supposed to protect, is lowered into their final resting place is every parent's worse nightmare. When your child dies, a part of you dies along with them and no amount of consoling or prayers can ever hope to bring it back. I take a deep breath as I finally look at the tombstone in front of me, it's engraved lettering forever etched in my mind.

Nicholas Duke Mitchell
December 8, 1988–July 3, 1990

Even though it's been three decades since that faithful day, it feels like no time has passed at all. His life plays out in my head as if it were a movie; the first time he laughed, his first words, the first time I sat him in my lap in the cockpit of a jet. I remember the sleepless nights in the hospital, the endless combination of drugs that never seemed to work, the day the doctors revealed that there was nothing left to try, even the feeling of Maverick's arms around me as we both watched him take his final breath.

The feeling of my phone vibrating in my pocket snaps me from my thoughts. I must've forgotten to fully turn it off before I got out of the car. Originally, I move to decline the call, but the caller ID stops me in my tracks. Iceman. After quickly wiping the tears from my cheeks, I answer.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Snow Miser?" I jest, smiling ever so slightly as a scratchy laugh echos across the line. Despite being the commander of the U.S. Pacific fleet, as well as a superior to me, I can't help but still see him as my fellow Top Gun classmate. He may be Admiral Kazansky to everyone else, but he'll always be Ice to me.

"You know, every time you call me that you push me closer to retirement." My grin fades at the sound of his voice. I can hear the pain he is in with every word. He's been locked in a battle with throat cancer for years now. Though it's in remission now, the lingering effects still remain. From what his wife, Sarah, told me the last time we spoke, he's not even supposed to be talking right now.

I try to push my worries away. "If you retire, where will I get my Navy gossip? Speaking of which, did I tell you what Rear Admiral Taylor said to me the other day?"

"I actually have something I need to ask you." Even through the cracks in his voice, I can hear the shift in his tone. "It's about Maverick."

My heart all but leaps from my chest at the sound of his name. After Top Gun and Nicholas' birth, the two of us were riding high. We'd moved into the house my parents left me, having turned the spare room into a nursery. We had even talked about actually going through with getting married. That all changed when the diagnosis came. Though he was with us every step of the way physically, Maverick slowly became more distant mentally. It only got worse after our son passed. It was a loss neither of us could really handle, changing our relationship into one that was practically unrecognizable. One night, after a particularly bad argument, he left. Our jobs caused us to see each other once in a blue moon, but I haven't actually talked to him in years. I have heard, however, of the various times Ice has personally saved his ass from being permanently grounded.