𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

↳ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫
'those days are gone forever,
I should just let them go, but–'

━━ 𓄼 𓄹 ━━

SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA

THEY PULLED OFF THE DUSTY HIGHWAY and rolled to a stop in front of the gas station. It looked like a scene from the past, a lonely station on the way out to the middle of nowhere. Nothing but the stragglers of suburbia rose beyond it.

She had assumed he would wait in the truck, desperate for a momentary reprieve from their suffocating silence. Just as she was pulling the handle on the nozzle, she heard the passenger door slam and Bradley walked around the front. Basil yet out a displeased yap at being left alone.

Bradely crossed his arms and leaned against the truck in his easy way. "I'm hungry."

She rolled her eyes. The scent of gasoline stung her lungs. "It's an hour away. You'll survive."

He sighed pleasantly. "You used to be fun."

"I used to be a lot of things," she muttered.

"C'mon, let's just stop for food."

The gas pump clicked, done. As she screwed the gas cap back on, she watched him from the corner of her eye. "We'll get home faster if we don't."

"Sue me for wanting to spend more time with just you."

She looked up now. He looked like a puppy, face lit up in anticipation. "What did you have in mind?"

He lolled his head to the side, pushing his aviators down to the end of his nose. The way he was looking at her sent a shiver up her skin. "There's that diner not very far from here. That place we would go sometimes–"

"After we drove out to the beach," she finished for him, still not giving an answer.

"That diner has really good pancakes, if you'll recall," he mused, grazing a hand along her arm and leaning in. "Chocolate chip pancakes."

"Do you really think I'm that easy to win over?"

"Chocolate chip pancakes, Berlin," he reminded her pointedly.

She heaved a deep sigh. "Fine."

𓄼 𓄹

CAM had been mulling it over the entire time they had been eating.

It hit her like a rush when they walked into the old diner. It had remained unchanged even though it had been years since they had eaten there. The same countertop, same stools, same chrome-framed menu. The nostalgia was sickening in its sweetness.

They ate outside so Basil could sit on the ground next to the table in the shade of the wide red umbrella. The southern California sun felt good on her skin, and Cam took a clarifying sip of water before beginning to speak.

"I haven't been honest with you."

The fork clinked on the plate. Through a mouthful of pancake, Bradley said, "About what?"

She wanted to laugh, but she focused on the plate in front of her, staring at the brown pool of syrup. "I haven't been home in almost a year. I haven't seen my parents since the funeral."

He swallowed hard. "But I thought you said Max–"

She shook her head. "Max came and visited me after I moved to Florida. But I haven't been in California since I left." Her lips twisted up in a fleeting smile. "My parents never came out to visit, my dad likes commercial airlines even less than he used to."

Bradley snorted. "What did he call them?"

"Los bastardos del cielo," Cam sighed fondly. "He threatened to take his Cessna all the way across the gulf. He wanted to see me. My mom took it a lot harder, needed more time to accept this new reality that I so graciously created for everyone."

Her heart hammered in her throat. Even now, she couldn't bring herself to tell him the full truth.

"When did you leave California?"

She remembered those days with painful clarity. "As soon as I was out of the hospital, I tried to hand in her wings to my commanding officer. He told me to sleep on it, not wanting me to make a choice I might later regret. I took a week's leave to sort things out after the funeral, they were happy to grant me that. Then after I came back, I flew one more mission with Stingers and submitted the paperwork to be transferred into the reserves. I didn't even tell Fritz what I was doing until it happened. I knew he would try to talk me out of it."

She swirled her glass of orange juice in front of her. She hadn't even apologized to Fritz, only glossed over the whole thing as if she hadn't left him to fend for himself. She had left without even saying goodbye to him.

Bradley sat for a second in pensieve silence. "Fritz seems like a good guy."

"He is," Cam smiled fondly. "Better than I deserve for a backseater."

Bradley took another obnoxiously large bite. It was as if he was in a race with himself to finish his food. "So, basically, you asked me to come with you so you wouldn't have to face your parents alone?"

Cam couldn't meet his eyes. "I'm sorry, I should have said something before–"

He interrupted her with a strong laugh. "It wouldn't have changed anything, I still would have said yes."

She tried not to show her relief. "Good."

"I could stand to see my aunt and uncle, anyway. They were so excited to hear I was talking to you again."

Cam looked at him across the table. He sat with one muscular arm on the back of the chair, face tilted into the California sun. Time had treated him well, and if she didn't stop checking him out, he was going to start noticing.

"Of all the possible lives I could have lived, we're still sitting here together at a diner. That has to count for something," she said suddenly.

"Bad luck?" he supplied.

She finally laughed. "We'll see."

𓄼 𓄹

WHEN they finally pulled into Cam's driveway, Bradley was afraid he was going to have to drag her out of the car.

"Cam?" he said softly.

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head once. She got out of the truck and let Basil out before slamming the door behind her.

The front door opened to reveal Mr. Mejia. Though he looked older, there was little that changed about him over the years. He was still so quick to smile.

"I'm surprised you remembered where the house was, mija!" he called out, stepping down the stairs. "It's been so long."

"Very funny," Cam sighed. Bradley saw the slight fear behind her eyes.

"It's good to have you back," her father said, nodding his head once.

"I brought a friend," Cam said, grabbing Bradley by the arm and dragging him out as if he was going to protect her.

"Bradley Bradshaw," he grinned, nodding into the sunlight. If he was surprised to see him, he was kind enough to not show it.

"Sir," he extended a hand.

"Pah," Marco said, grabbing the hand and pulling him into a swift hug. Bradley's jaw dropped a little but he remained composed. "It has been too long."

The world shifted for the half second Brad's eyes locked with Cam's. "Way too long."

"Theo and Alayna invited us all over for dinner tonight," Marco told Bradley, cocking his head up in the direction of the Bradshaw's house.  Bradley's aunt and uncle would go to any length to host a dinner party.  

"That's what they were saying," Bradley nodded with a slow grin. "Said it would be good to have everyone in the same spot again."

Marco's brow rose at Cam. "Everyone?"

She swallowed hard. "Maybe not everyone."

Before Bradley could ask what that was all about, a small voice yelled, "Cam!"

A young girl flew out the door, running so fast she skipped the last stair and almost collapsed onto the grass. Cam barely had time to breath before the girl tackled her in the legs, wrapping her skinny limbs around her body.

"I missed you Tía," she said, voice muffled against Cam's leg.

"I missed you too Amari," Cam laughed, leaning down and picking the girl up in her arms. "Amari, this is Bradley."

He lifted his hand in a small wave.

"Hi," she told him. "Do you want to come see my sandbox? You have to come outside and see the sandbox! We put more sand in it today!"

"Amari, they just got home! Give them a second to breathe," Max chuckled as he stepped outside. "Brad, good to see you man."

"Here," Cam put Amari down and whistled. "Take Basil out back and show him. We'll come out soon."

Amari wrapped both arms around Basil's neck and the dog gave her a side long, pleading glance. Nevertheless, at Cam's command he let Amari lead him out the back porch with the leash in her hand.

"Joanna and Sofia will be back soon," Max said, answering the question before it came out of Cam's mouth. "Why don't you guys come inside? Mom'll want to see you, Cam."

She looked like she didn't believe him. Briefly, Bradley wondered where Gabe was if the whole family was there.

The house was tastefully decorated, less of an eclectic collection of things now that it was only Mr. and Mrs. Mejia living in the old house. Immediately upon entering the living room, Bradley was confronted with a row of pictures on the mantle. Two young girls that he didn't recognize stood together on the beach, and then there was Cam standing in front of the Cessna. He had been there that day when she had done her solo, standing just off to the side of the camera.

There were two school pictures of young girls close in age, one was Amari and the one with hair like Cam's must have been Max's other daughter. There was a picture of Max at his college graduation, and Cam's was a straight-faced portrait of her in full Navy dress. The third was a sunsoaked picture of her brother Gabe holding a woman with dirty blonde hair close to his chest. Engagement pictures. A ring on her left hand shone in the sunlight.

His breath caught. He knew this girl from pictures. After the things Cam had told him and what Jake had accused her of on the tarmac, Bradley did his own investigation on her former squadron. And this girl, she was so familiar even though he had never met her. Staring out from a picture frame was Nikita Kasper.

Her fiancé never forgave me for what I did.

"He still won't speak to me," Cam's voice, crisp and clear, startled him. She stepped forward, staring intently at the picture. "Things have been strained ever since."

"Cam." His tongue felt like sand. He couldn't even begin to imagine the toll, and now with this new weight–it was unimaginable. "I had no idea."

"You couldn't have," she reminded him solemnly. He turned to face her and she avoided his eyes. "I was intentionally vague."

Everything added up. The fact that everyone was at the house, no Gabe in sight. The reason her parents had taken the accident so hard, and perhaps the reason her mother had been reluctant to see her.

There were tears shining in her brown eyes now. "I abandoned everyone. I left my family. Everything I've ever known, I cut ties with it. After Gabe stopped speaking to me, I thought I was better off beating everyone else to the punch. I was just so hurt, tired, I wanted to start over. Max never gave up on me. I have him to thank for not letting me become completely estranged."

"He knew it wasn't your fault," Bradley said. "Even though I know you still blame yourself."

"How can I not?" Cam whispered, conscious of the voices of her family in the kitchen. "I was the one who was supposed to be looking out for her."

With a sudden jolt, a wave of understanding passed over Bradley. For Cam's perspective, yes, but also for Mavericks. In the back of his mind, he knew it was the circumstance that had killed Goose, not Mav. But he didn't fully understand that guilt until now.

"You couldn't have controlled the situation. I read the full report after what happened with Hangman, Cam. I know enough to know that it wasn't your fault. You can't control whether Gabe forgives you or not, but you can choose to forgive yourself."

She smiled at him. "If it were that easy–"

"It isn't, I know," he said. "But you have a lot of people who want to help you. Fritz, Max, me."

"You?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there, Cam."

He waited in the silence, not willing to fill it with anything more.

Bradley glanced at the far wall that led up towards the staircase. There was a framed cover of Plane and Pilot magazine, an article clipped from what looked like a National Geographic, and several framed and glossy aerial photographs. They were breathtaking captures of the world from above, a patchwork of fields strung through with rivers and trees. Clouds, blue skies, birds in flight.

He looked at the lower corner of the National Geographic clipping. Photograph courtesy Cameron E. Mejia. Bradley almost laughed in disbelief. "You're a photographer?"

"It started in Berkeley," she told him, grateful to be talking about something else. "My roommate freshman year was an art major and she convinced me to take a photography class for an elective credit. I loved it. Every spare class I had that wasn't being taken over by engineering was photography–not a lot of room, but I made it work. I had a professor that encouraged me to submit some of my work to some journals, and then there was a National Geographic story they were doing about women in aviation that they used some of my pictures for."

"This is so cool, Cam," he marveled, looking at them closer. "But I'm not surprised. You were attached to that camera you had when we were younger."

"Some things never change," she sighed softly.

He turned and met her eyes. "Yeah?"

Her brown eyes narrowed, but her smile remained. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" he asked lazily.

"Like you used to," she said quietly. Her eyes flickered up and down before unmistakably landing on his lips.

The front door swung open again and they stepped apart. He hadn't even realized how close they had been standing.

Cam walked over to greet the woman and the young girl that walked through. The girl's curly hair was braided down her back. With the soccer uniform on and a determined expression, she looked a little more than familiar.

"Shit, she looks exactly like Cam," Bradley remarked to Max, who had come into the living room too.

Max grinned like the proud father he was. "Carbon copy, attitude and all. I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?" he said with a laugh.

"For making sure Cam came out here."

"It wasn't my idea, she was the one who–"

Max held up a hand. "She can say whatever she wants, but I know for a fact the only reason she felt brave enough to come home is because she could drag you out here with her."

Cam had already admitted that was true, so Bradley didn't protest.

"This is the happiest I've seen her in a long time. Even before everything that happened with Kit and Gabe, she had started to lose so much of herself. Basil helped, but you being here," Max stopped then and smiled in the afternoon light. "She's Cam again."

𓄼 𓄹

IT was a wild chase.

Sand dusted the air, kicked up by the sweep of a plane's winds. It roared over the hills, dipping and twisting in a haphazard, nameless dive.

The plane crashed nose deep in the sand in an instant, shoved there by orange soda stained hands.

"Kaboom," Amari echoed, pursing her lips.

"Oh no!" Cam sang, still acting the part of Amari's play scenario. "We've crashed on a deserted island!"

Amari quirked a dark brow. "Dessert? Can it be chocolate cake? I think that would make a good landing pad."

Cam bit back a laugh. "Sure, chocolate cake island. With fudge frosting."

Amari looked off into the distance, dazed. "Fudge."

Amari's attention was immediately drawn away from the sandbox and towards her sister. "Joanna! The island's made of cake!"

"You don't need to yell so loud, Mar," Cam scolded.

"My mouth doesn't want to be quiet. It gets itchy when the words aren't loud."

"The island isn't real." Joanna said, kicking her soccer ball towards the tiny pugg goal that was set up in the yard. She had refused to join them, insisting the sand was for little kids.

Bradley glanced up at her from his spot at the edge of the sandbox. Cam had forgotten to warn him that Jo wasn't very friendly to people she didn't know. And to people she did know, frankly.

"I bet I could score a goal on you," Bradley challenged.

Instead of any sour response, Joanna gave a rare smile. "You can try."

Grinning, Bradley stood up and ran over. Jo laughed and ran in the opposite direction.

"C'mon Cam!" He called. "You have to help me! She's too good!"

Cam lifted Amari up to her feet and let the younger girl take off across the lawn, hot on the tail of the ball. Bradley had taken it away from Jo and was dribbling it when Cam shoulder-checked him off of it.

"Hey!" he whined.

She rolled it back with the bottom of her foot. "You want it? Come get it."

"Every man for themselves!" Jo shouted, running after Cam. She dragged on her sleeve, but Cam sidestepped away and towards the tiny net.

"No!" Bradley shouted just as she was about to shoot. He slid across the grass and right into Cam's legs. She toppled over, bracing herself against the ground as a wheeze of laughter was pulled from her throat.

Suddenly his face was inches from hers, eyes searching. For a second, she wanted to say the words. Do you have any idea how long these years have been without you?

The truth hurt more now that she was back here.

The full memory of it had faded, forced away by time and the need to move on, to uproot herself from everything she had ever known.

She had been in love with him. Saying anything would have toppled it all, the entire balance of their families hung on a line, and the last thing Cam would do was ruin it. But that last summer, there was a time when she slipped. Her caution faltered, and the worst part was that she still wouldn't change it.

If she was only granted that one moment of loving him the way she wanted to, that would be better than never having done it at all.

"Dogpile!" Amari shouted, shattering the moment. A second later, she flopped over right on top of them.

"You're all terrible at this game," Jo said, standing with her arms crossed.

As Cam stood again, there was a sharp pain in the side of her leg. She examined the skin, unsurprised to see a sliver sticking out just below the hem of her shorts.

"Hey!" Max called from the porch. "Cam, Brad, if you guys are done rolling around in the grass, we're heading up to the Bradshaw's."

"Yay!" Amari squealed, taking off towards the porch.

As they walked back up to the house, Cam locked eyes with her mother through the kitchen window. She looked at her daughter once, not even a flicker of apology passing through those green eyes. Then she turned away again.

The knot tightened in Cam's chest, happiness deflating into nothing. Her dad and Max could try to smooth things over all they wanted, but there was nothing that would make her mother forgive her short of Gabe showing up on their doorstep.

"I'll catch up with you guys," she muttered, pushing past Max and into the house. "I need to get this sliver out."

𓄼 𓄹

HE knocked on the half-open door, leaning forward and waiting.

"Bradley, I'll be out in a minute."

He laughed, stretching out his arm to press against the doorframe. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Lucky guess," she said dryly. Her voice echoed with a sharp intake of air. "Shit."

"You want help?" he said, pushing the door open the rest of the way.

She stood with her hands braced against the ceramic of the countertop, staring at him through the mirror. A pair of tweezers were next to her hand. He had seen the silent exchange with her mom; her demeanor wasn't just about a sliver.

"It's a sliver from the porch, I must have bumped into it," she sighed, cheeks flushed from frustration.

"Where is it?"

She pointed to the side of her thigh. "I can't turn my body enough to get to it."

"Here," he said, picking up the tweezers. "Sit on the counter, let me help you."

Somewhat annoyed, she still pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the cold counter top. He leaned forward, very careful not to get too close to her.

She put a solid hand on his arm. "It's fine, you don't have to be gentle about it. I just want the damn thing gone."

A laugh bubbled up from his throat. If only she knew. If only she knew that being this close to her again was burning him from the inside out. The all-consuming desire to run his hands against every inch of her skin.

He set to work. Slivers were difficult, careful things. One wrong move and it would be stuck under the skin for who knew how long.

"Tell me if this hurts," he said.

"No shit it hurts," she gritted her teeth, annoyed.

He smiled, unable to resist teasing her. "Not so tough anymore, are you?"

He pulled the small piece of wood out and heard her sigh with relief. It had been stuck straight into her skin, right next to the jagged line of a scar.

He held it up to her line of sight. "There."

Finally, a genuine smile. "Thank you."

Neither of them made any motion to move. Leg still pressed up against hers, hand still dangerously close to the tanned skin of her upper thigh.

"You asked me about the scar before," she said quietly.

"You don't owe me explanations, Cam."

She nodded with understanding. "I know. But I want to tell you. I wanted to tell you everything. That feeling, of always needing to tell you things first? I don't think it ever went away."

Heart beating out of his chest, he wondered if she could hear it. They were so close together.

Emboldened and unrestrained, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes.

Feeling no resistance, he placed it on the end of the scar and traced the line. The healed-over skin of her leg, the year of loss, the pain of losing not only a near-sister but also her brother. He stopped when he reached the pushed-up hem of her shorts. He would have gone all the way, but never if she didn't want him to.

She pressed her hand on top of his with silent permission, guiding his fingers upwards. The line continued up further and his touch remained as gentle as possible until it finally rested at the end.

Now, he stood between her legs, faces inches apart. Waiting for something.

"I spent twelve hours in the Pacific Ocean thinking I was going to die. That I would dissolve into salt for the sea," she whispered hoarsely. "I relived everything I had ever done, the people I was about to leave behind."

"I think my biggest regret was that I didn't try harder. That I didn't find a way to get over my pride. I gave up on the thought of ever seeing you again," she said, leaning down and pressing her forehead against his.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Reliving the past had always been his burden to bear. The anger that split his rationality in two. He found now that it was all in its final resting place.

"I'll spend the rest of my life apologizing for what I did if you'll let me," he told her. There was nothing but desperation in his voice. "I don't want to be apart from you like that again. You've always been my best friend, Cam."

Her eyes opened again, honest and wide. He could see what she was thinking now, an old talent that hadn't been completely lost.

"Best friend?" she repeated, voice suddenly nervous. "That's all you want?"

He shook his head against hers, still too afraid to ask for too much. To admit that he would die by her side if that was the only way to be near her.

But the moment was shattered by small footsteps thundering up the staircase. He drew back immediately and Cam hopped off the counter, the moment reset as if it had never even happened.

"Tía! Basil is looking for you!" Amari's small voice shouted. "We have to go to the coleslaw's house!"

"Bradshaw! Not coleslaw!" Jo shouted from somewhere below.

"That's what I said!"

Cam looked at him one last time before stepping through the doorway and out of sight.

Bradley leaned forward and caught his breath. He could still feel her skin beneath his hand, the heat of her breath on his lips. The heavy desire that was now threatening to consume him.

She had given him a chance to make things right again.

━━ 𓄼 𓄹 ━━

a/n told you that scar was gonna be important later on!!

I just love these domestic scenes, its the furthest I usually get to stray from complete fanfiction and I know they aren't the most popular chapters since they deviate so much from the main plot, but I hope you guys enjoyed it a little!!  next chapter is also going to be very,,, interesing ;)

side note: if you've ever listened to 'the boys of summer' by don henley you'll see why I picked it for this chapter, it's literally the most perfect description of Cam and Bradley's relationship.  aside from that it's also just a REALLY good song and has a great topgun vibe

--nat <3