He should have accepted the seat next to Nat. Granted, where he sat, he had a good view of the other pilots, the little stand and the enormous American flag, but he felt singled out already. Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace had beckoned him with a smile that had seemed genuine when he had entered, but after Rooster had postponed their catch-up call (again) a month (or a couple) ago, he hadn't truly thought he was worthy of her company so he had chosen a lonely seat in the back.

He didn't have much time to think further however, since a loud "Attention on deck!" filled the air and all the pilots scrambled up, the crappy chairs scraping over the floor producing a grating sound. A stately man walked on the little platform and started to talk. His voice was nice and Rooster wondered if he would be the 'famous captain' the others had talked about yesterday who would be teaching them.

While admiral (oh, so he wouldn't be training them, then) Bates said his little introductory speech (it was so self-indulgent and patriotic that Rooster almost rolled his eyes, but he stopped himself just in time, he was an adult after all), Rooster drifted a bit.

"Half of you will make the cut-" admiral Bates said and Rooster got pulled back into the present. He would be with that half, for sure.

"One of you will be named mission leader." Hangman (who sat on the front row, the brat) turned around and locked eyes with Rooster. He sent Rooster a smug smile and turned back. This time Rooster did roll his eyes which was allowed because he was handling with a literal child after all (that Hangman was, like 30+? didn't matter in the slightest in his (very) humble opinion). Why had he turned around anyway? Just to-

"-captain Mitchell." Sorry, what the actual fuck?

"Callsign: Maverick." The tension in the room suddenly changed from a little bored to actually buzzing. Every pilot swiveled around in their seats as steps could be heard behind Rooster. Different emotions battled for permission to wreck his brain, but anger won (as it almost always did). Why was he here? Why did he interfere in his life after Rooster had made it very clear that he didn't want them (or him specifically because he had needed Ice that one time) to do so?

"Good morning," Captain Mitchell said in his instructor voice. He still sounded the same even after two decades, but his stance was more relaxed than the last time Rooster had seen him. He looked around the room and Bradley saw him very clearly trying to make eye contact with him, but Rooster glanced away just in time. Maverick's shoulders seem to slump a bit, but that was probably just Rooster's imagination. He had no reason to be disappointed, they were nothing to each other.

Captain Mitchell held a speech of his own and this one was at least mildly more original than Bates' but Rooster was still sceptic. Yes, Mitchell had trained bratty pilots for at least seven years, but that was more than twenty years ago and not in F-18s. What could Mitchell teach them?

Captain Mitchell tried to catch his eyes a second time, but when that didn't succeed, he seemed to have given up. Instead, his gaze lingered on Natasha. One time Rooster saw his gaze drift from Nat to himself and back to Nat and a seething rage filled him. Ice had told him. Rooster had made him promise, had pleaded him to promise to never tell anyone, but the bastard had told his husband regardless. He probably had the moment he had come home. Rooster tried to imagine the conversation in his head: "Hey, sweetheart, guess who called today, you're never going to believe what Bradley managed to fuck up this time." Rooster seethed, but Mitchell was still talking and he was supposed to listen so he took a few deep breaths and tried to relax.

"Today we'll start with what you only think you know." Ok, that was a pretty cool quote. Bradley wondered if he had acquired it from Mike and his curiosity somewhat tempered his rage.

"But I can't do this alone." That was new.

"So, I irritated another admiral enough that he would resign his very high position in your beloved navy to help me train you lot," Captain Mitchell rambled on, his voice shifting from instructor to husband. Rooster was still reeling about the fact that Maverick had admitted he needed help and therefore didn't quite catch the slight change in tone in time. The only help Maverick ever took was from-

"Admiral Tom Kazansky." Right, could his day get any worse?

"Callsign: Iceman." Where the room was buzzing at the mention of Mitchell's name, it was practically falling apart at Ice's announcement. Fanboy looked about to faint (he had been not so secretly honoring his callsign with Iceman since he walked through the doors of the naval academy), Hangman's eyes almost popped out of their sockets (Rooster was very disappointed that mobile phones were forbidden at this base) and Maverick looked at least ten years longer and as much in love as thirty years ago. Bradley briefly wondered if this was how he had looked at their wedding, but he pushed that thought (and the consequent pang of feeling) back to the twists of his brain it came from.

They all sprung up to salute and Rooster followed suit, but he wasn't very enthusiastic. His navy soul demanded him to salute for a higher ranked individual, but why would Rooster salute for a traitor?

Iceman did look very much like his callsign as he strode into the room. His hair had turned a cold grey and the years had changed him (contrary to ageless wood sprite Maverick, who will no doubt outlive society as we know it), but his presence was even more freezingly stately. If Bradley didn't know better, he would have questioned if this being even had love in him. Iceman ran his steel blue eyes over the gathered pilots and nodded at them. When Ice turned to Rooster, he stopped his general surview and his eyes hardened almost unnoticeably, which sent a cold shiver down Rooster's spine and made him immediately fix his slappy salute. Ice nodded imperceptibly and continued on.

Finally, someone with common sense. Ice didn't treat him like someone special, he was just another pilot ready to be trained (what Iceman could learn them when the last time he had flown must be twenty years ago (at least), he had no idea).

"Good morning aviators, please be seated," Ice said as he walked to Maverick.

"Contrary to what captain Mitchell just said." Iceman sent a supposedly stern look to Mitchell, but Bradley could clearly see the giddiness in his eyes.

"I did not come here because he irritated me that much. I am impervious to irritation." Iceman said it with all the seriousness in the world and while most of the pilots covered their smiles successfully, Fanboy snorted loudly. Ice's gaze turned cold again and he immediately honed in on Fanboy, who tried to cover his snort with a cough but choked on said cough and therefore made quite a scene.

Iceman held his stern gaze for a bit, but then his features softened and he even smiled a small but genuine smile. Bradley got immediately transported back to the countless times he had received such a smile when he was younger and he felt a small warmth grow in his stomach despite his best intentions. He finally let the feeling for what it was since he could not deny the great times he had before his sixteenth, so why bother with these unwelcome emotions when he should be focusing on other things?

"It is okay lieutenant Garcia," Ice started and Rooster saw Fanboy pale when he heard his name (both from fear of being called out and shock because thé Iceman knew his name).

"You are allowed to laugh, because-" He turned his attention to the rest of the class.

"It was, indeed, a joke."

"A very bad one," Maverick murmured and Hangman chuckled. Iceman ignored them both, but Bradley suddenly realized that Maverick and Hangman would be even worse together than they were alone and he groaned softly.

"It was a joke, because I am human and I irritate me. So is your enemy. Your job is to use the weaknesses of the human kind against said enemy. So be annoying, be foul, play unfair games in the sky. Make them hate you while you are fighting them to cloud their judgement and make them vulnerable." When everyone realized this had turned into a full-on lecture, all attention was on the man in front. Even Rooster had to admit he was curious. This was unlike everything they had taught him before.

"Fear, rage and spite are the mind killers-" Did he just glance to Rooster while he said that?

"so, leave those emotions on the ground, understood?" he finished and everyone quickly confirmed it with a united "Yes, sir.".

"We expect you in the sky in half an hour," Captain Mitchell said in his instructor voice.

"You will be divided in groups of two planes," Iceman added as if he and Mitchell were one person.

"The other instructions will be given in the sky." Rooster saw that glances got shared between the pilots and he couldn't blame them. Normally they had at least half an hour of preflight instructions on the ground, but apparently a lesson led by a highly-decorated captain and an admiral (ex-COMPACTFLT nonetheless, he should ask Fanboy why Iceman had really stepped down) took other paths.

"We will see you in the sky, you are dismissed," Ice said and he and Maverick walked away.

Rooster stood slowly while before him the chatter started. He heard Hangman say that he could beat them both with his hands behind his back and he snorted loudly.

"What, Bradshaw? You think I can't do it?" Hangman asked while puffing up his chest a bit. Rooster heard Natasha huff softly and he felt a little bit strengthened by it.

"They will wipe the floor with you, Seresin," he said and walked away. He heard some ooohs, aaahs and laughter behind him but he didn't have time for that.

He needed all the time and focus to beat admiral Kazansky and captain Mitchell. But he would beat them. He would make sure he did.