𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

↳ 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬
'yeah, they'll pass you by'

━━ 𓄼 𓄹 ━━

UNDISCLOSED ENEMY LOCATION

WHILE Cam drove, Fritz had managed to connect his coms to the car radio. So far, they hadn't received anything more than a confirmation of their own signal.

"It doesn't mean they didn't get it," Fritz had told her hopefully.

But as the minutes dragged into hours, his tone lost all optimism. By the time daylight began to fade, they had run out of service roads. When they finally stopped, Fritz pushed open the door to the Jeep and began to step out. Cam had only barely turned away when he cried out in pain.

"What? What is it?" Cam asked, whipping around as if something was coming through the woods. Her heartbeat pressed against her throat as she ran around the front of the vehicle, momentarily silhouetted by headlights until plunging back into the blue dark.

He steadied his breathing. "It's my leg. I must have been on one hell of an adrenaline high."

Cam's eyes went wide and she held out an arm to steady him. "Can you walk on it?"

Tentatively, he tried to take a step forward. "Kind of," he answered after a long pause. "I don't think it's broken. I didn't have the best landing with that parachute. Probably just sprained."

Cam blew a piece of curly hair out of her eyes. "Just sprained. How reassuring."

"It isn't that far," he promised, switching on a flashlight against the quickly-darkening sky.

Cam loaded up a pack with any of the supplies they could pull from the Jeep before ditching it in the brush, hidden enough that they could come back to it if they needed to.

They walked for what felt like hours. The blue light of evening dimmed until finally it disappeared completely, leaving nothing but the purple haze of a winter night. The temperature was dropping, and even the gear they had stolen wouldn't be enough to make it through the cold for another day.

Cam cleared her throat. "Fritz?"

"I know what you're thinking," he said, not meeting her eyes. His arm was hooked across her shoulders to alleviate some of the pain. "I'm thinking the same thing."

In the cold line of their tracks in the snow, when was becoming if. There might not be a rescue waiting for them on the other side of the woods. Pete and Bradley might not have even made it out. Their radio was still complete and utter silence.

"If we're gonna die out here, I want to know the full story," Fritz said suddenly.

"The full story," she repeated. Her eyes narrowed and she focused on the even cadence of her steps in the snow. "I think you know almost all of it."

He just shook his head. "Why'd you leave without tellin' me, Cam? I had already lost Nikita. It felt like I had lost both of you that day I walked in and they told me you weren't coming back."

She swallowed hard. "I had a very narrow view of what had happened and the options that were left for me. Gabe stopped speaking to me, my mom wanted nothing to do with me, and I blamed myself for all of it. Running away sounded so easy, so I did."

"You know I don't blame you for what you did," he told her. "I probably would have done the same thing."

"No, you wouldn't have," she laughed. "You wouldn't have thrown it all away."

"I almost did," he told her quietly. "I drank way too much those first few months. I got written up for insubordination twice. Everything felt so fragile when I suddenly realized that one single instant can tear everything apart. And it can happen at any time, and I won't be able to control it."

She didn't know what to say. Fritz, the charmer, the life of the party. Everywhere all at once, moving so fast that no one could even tell when something was amiss. "I had no idea."

"You wouldn't have. I don't talk about it," he shrugged.

"I also never asked," Cam said resolutely. "I should have. At the very least I shouldn't have been so damn selfish when I came back here."

"True," he said wistfully, brushing a branch aside. "But you need to give yourself more credit. You're tough as hell. Maybe you made some bad choices, but we all have."

And Cam knew he was right. It was her own guilt, her own shame that she hadn't worked out and instead blamed on grief. "Nikita was everything good about the world. I'm–she was what kept my negativity in check."

"She was," he agreed. "And I know that always bothered you. You always compared yourself to her, didn't you?"

Cam was floored by his honesty. But it wasn't hard to see that Cam was always scrappy, always jealous and fighting for attention that she didn't even want. Nikita was easy-going. An easy laugh, a kind heart, unshakable morals and a commitment to the right thing.

"How could I not?"

He snorted. "Nikita was perfect. I don't think anyone ever had a bad word about her. But you were the one who stood up for her, Cam. You were the one tellin' people off when she didn't have the heart to do it herself. You balanced each other out."

"We did, didn't we," Cam said with a small smile. A trail of silent tears made its way down her cheek. She wiped them away before they froze. The truth was easier to speak now in the half-light of a fading day. "So much of what I did was because I thought I had to live up to her legacy. Everything I did, every move I made, Nikita was watching me."

"She never would have wanted that for you," Fritz assured her.

"I know that now, but that was why I came back to Top Gun," Cam admitted. "Mendez told me that I was upholding Nikita Casper's legacy, and I took that as a challenge."

"But now?"

"Now that I went through with it, I'm glad I did. But I don't think I can do any of it again," she said cryptically.

He stopped walking. "Are you thinking of leaving the Navy?"

"My contract is up after this mission ends. I don't think I want to renew it." Cam surprised even herself with the words. She had been toying with the idea, mulling it over with every new day, but there it was. The truth at last.

Fritz surprised her by smiling widely. "You finally figured it out."

She frowned. "Figured what out?"

"What you wanted, Cam. Not what Nikita would have wanted, not what I would have wanted." He pointed at her. "You."

She looked up and around at the small clearing they had come to a stop in. "Shit load of good that does me now."

He let out a bark of laughter as he reached into his pocket and checked the map and then his GPS. "Well, this is the place."

She tipped up her chin towards the darkness of a starless sky. "How long do we wait?"

Fritz hobbled over to a fallen tree and sat down. "I'm new to this whole rescue-extraction ordeal, so I really don't know."

They stared at each other for a few moments of solemn silence. Then Cam began to laugh. It started as a snort, and then it turned into full-blown laughter that probably echoed for miles. Fritz looked slightly confused, but then he started laughing, too.

"What the hell is so funny?"

She gestured around them. "Can you fucking believe this? We're stranded–" she wheezed, doubling over from her own hysterics "–in the middle of the woods."

"And I can barely walk," he laughed. "Oh my god, you're gonna use me as bait again when the bears come, aren't you?"

"You're a soft target." She sat down next to him, still laughing quietly.

"Still glad you came back to Top Gun?" Fritz asked.

She had set herself up for failure in believing that coming back to California would be a slog. Throwing herself back into it all again was the best decision she had ever made, even if it was only to learn that there was more out there that she wanted to do than this.

"I am," she told him with finality. Her limbs ached from the crash and the burn of the cold. Every part of her wanted to lay down in the snow and sleep.

It came suddenly. Light engulfed them, shining from above like a heavenly beacon.

They were saved.

𓄼 𓄹

THE CELEBRATION had been subdued when Maverick and Rooster had returned in their F-14. Hangman had saved their lives, and against all odds they were back in one piece, but it was clear that the true rest wasn't going to come until everyone was accounted for.

It had taken a great deal of arguing between Cyclone and Maverick to even send the rescue mission in the first place. The Admiral didn't think it was safe; Mav didn't care.

"I will fly that helicopter out there myself, so help me god!" he had shouted, loud enough that everyone listening at the door could hear with ease.

"Is he serious?" Natasha had whispered, eyes wide.

Bradley had just nodded. He had seen the stunts Maverick had pulled in that F-14 and now knew with certainty there was no task too big for Pete Mitchell. "Almost definitely."

Cyclone, in the end, had given in. A rescue team was en route to the extraction point. In order to get in as soon as possible, they had been forced to take the long route. Hours had elapsed. By then, Bradley was sitting in the briefing room with Bob, Phoenix, and Reuben, a deck of cards spread between the four of them. Hangman kept pacing in and out with Coyote not far behind.

Reuben groaned, pushing his cards in. "I'm out."

"We aren't even playing for money," Natasha said. Dark hair was slowly beginning to fall out of her bun. "You're acting like I just cleaned you out of cash."

He leaned back in the chair, swiveling slightly. "Might as well have."

None of their hearts were in it.

Bradley stared at the wall in front of him, counting the wooden panels. For years, he had trained to expect the unexpected and roll into any situation with a level head. This one singular day had thrown everything he knew out the window. And for all of it, he couldn't stop thinking about Cam. Where she was, how she was doing, if they were close yet. Waiting was agony.

"Uh, Rooster," Bob said, snapping his fingers once. "Your turn."

"What? Oh," he said, pulling out another card. Then he let out an exasperated sigh.

Reuben began to grin ever-so-slightly. "Thinkin' about your girl?"

Bradley just blinked, still distracted. "Who?"

"Knock it off," Natasha admonished, glaring across the table at Reuben as she put down a nine of hearts. "We're all worried."

"Some of us more than others, I'd wager," Reuben sang, unwilling to let it drop.

She shot him another sharp glance, but then relented. "What do you think's taking them so long? Shouldn't they be back by now?"

Bob shook his head. "It's hard to say. They would have had to pick their way around that mountain range."

"Lots of mountains," Reuben agreed.

"So they're frozen to death by now," Bradley said, pushing away from the table. He knew he was being dramatic, but sitting in a hot room marinating in their collective worry was grating on his nerves.

Natasha looked at the radio sitting on the end of the table. It had been silent for the last twenty minutes save the odd deck patrol report. "I'm sure they aren't frozen to death."

"Or eaten by a bear," Reuben added. Once the words were out of his mouth, he winced. "Sorry."

They heard the chop of the helicopter before the radio crackled to life. Whatever was being said, Bradley didn't stick around to hear it. He shoved the door open and nearly ran down the hall to get out onto the deck.

Wind whipped across the carrier and the chopper's blades were slowly rotating to a stop. It was difficult to see over the crowd that had gathered on the deck.

"Where are they?" Natasha shouted, suddenly appearing next to him with the rest of their small group. Hangman too was pushing the door open, partly worried but mostly trying to get more mileage out of his new 'two air to air kills' title.

The deck was a madhouse. There was shouting, cheers, whistling from the sailors. Everything was incredibly loud and Bradley found it nearly overwhelming. He saw Fritz first. The WSO looked slightly pale and was leaning on another guy to keep weight off his left leg, but he was still smiling.

Then there was Cam.

"Cam!" he shouted, trying desperately to get her attention. "Cameron!"

She finally turned, shoulders dropping with relief when she saw it was him. He pushed his way past the deck crew and didn't hesitate to pull her into his arms when he reached her.

"You're freezing!" he said, burying his face in her dark hair. She smelled like diesel fumes and ozone.

"Snow," she told him, teeth chattering slightly as she pulled away. Her brown eyes met his and suddenly he was very afraid about what she was about to say. "I was wrong, Bradley."

"Wrong?"

She was still holding onto the fabric of his sleeves with a white knuckled grip. "About what I said before. About you and me. I led you on." She shook her head. "It's inexcusable."

His heart climbed back in his throat and after all these years, he wondered if he would ever get his nerves under control around her. "It was only leading me on if you tell me now that you don't want this. You and me."

She looked utterly determined, just like she had that day she had socked Hangman. Then she did the more surprising thing. She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him, right there on the deck.

The cheering somehow reached an even higher decibel. Most of it was coming from the general direction of Reuben and Fritz. He could have sworn he heard Natasha say something about losing a bet, but he didn't pay it much mind. His vision had completely tunneled, focused on nothing but her. It was like seeing for the very first time.

"That clear things up, Bradshaw?" Cam said, grinning.

There was nothing sweeter than this. A first, second, and third chance; the thing he never deserved but always wanted. At that moment he already knew that was never giving it up again.

𓄼 𓄹

INYOKEN AIRPORT HANGAR

A FEW weeks after the end of their time at Top Gun, Cam and Bradley were spending the day at Pete Mitchell's hangar.

Bradley and Pete worked on the old P-51 Mustang while Cam was on the other side of the garage working on her own pet project. Basil was lounging nearby, chewing on a new bone that Cam had bought to placate him while she worked. She was fixing up an old motorcycle that Pete had bought at an estate sale a long time ago but never had time to get in working order. Pete only had the patience for his coveted Kawasaki, and he had promised her she could have this one if she wanted to put in the work to fix it.

So far, it was leaning towards a lost cause. This was the fourth time she had come out to the hangar to work on it and things weren't looking up.

Behind her, a girl's voice asked, "Can I pet your dog?"

Cam craned her neck and was met by the bright eyed smile of a high school aged girl in a pink sweatshirt, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. For a second, Cam wanted to ask her who the hell she was and how she had gotten into the garage. Then she saw the silver Porsche that had pulled up. Penny Benjamin was leaning against it.

"'Course," Cam said, wiping a grease stained hand on her coveralls. "You're Amelia, right?"

"Yeah," she said, scratching Basil behind the ears as he melted at the attention.

"I'm Cam," she introduced. "And that's Basil."

Basil barked once at the sound of his name. Pete stepped out from behind the plane at the sudden noise, glancing first at where Cam stood with Amelia, and then outside where Penny was waiting.

Pete had been vague about what had happened with Penny. All Cam knew was that when he had gone to see her after the mission, he had been told she was out on a long sailing trip with Amelia. But now she was here, and he looked absolutely overjoyed.

The feeling was one Cam was very familiar with. She felt it every time she looked at Bradley.

"How's it going?" Bradley asked, walking over to where she stood now that Maverick was occupied. He was wearing a white t-shirt and a salmon pink and orange tropical button down. They were going out for drinks later to celebrate with their friends before everyone went their separate ways. For her, it was bittersweet; everyone already knew she was leaving the Navy.

Cam let out a long sigh, staring at the chipped green paint. "I'm about to find out."

She settled onto the seat and took a deep breath before turning the key. So far, so good, but the trickier part was getting the engine to turn over. She kicked down sharply, expecting that once again it wouldn't start.

The engine roared to life, echoing through the hangar.

Basil barked loudly, affronted by the sudden noise. Cam grinned with disbelief. Pete whistled loudly from where he stood next to Penny. "I didn't think you were ever gonna get that thing fixed!" he shouted, laughing.

Cam revved the engine again. She wanted to drive down the road for miles until the bright day faded to dusk in the desert. All worry was pushed from her chest. This is a new start.

Bradley drifted away as she turned the key to stop the engine again. On the back wall, amid the tools and Maverick's flight helmet was a whole wall of pictures. Some were framed like the one of Bradley in high school when he played baseball, but others were not, like the ones of Maverick and Goose when they were younger. There was a newer one of Bradley and Maverick standing on the deck of the carrier after the mission. A mirror image of the past.

Bradley tapped twice on the wall. There was a picture of him and Pete working on the P-51 last week. "This is new."

Cam smiled. "I took that one."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into his chest. This was all Bradley had ever wanted from Maverick when they were younger, and though it had come late, it was still there.

"You better not get any engine grease on my shirt," Bradley teased.

She rolled her eyes and shoved him. "Oh please, you're the one who decided to wear white."

He huffed as he put his sunglasses back on. "It looks good on me."

And she had to admit, it did.

Later, after they had dropped Basil back off at Bradley's apartment, they drove to the Hard Deck in Cam's truck. Everyone was there by the time they arrived. Fritz, Natasha, Reuben, Bob, and even Hangman and the rest of the detachment.

They quickly took over their favorite corner of the bar, right next to the pool table. Cam wanted to laugh at how much had changed in such a short time. The last time she had been over here, Bradley had been a stranger and Cam hadn't wanted anything to do with any part of her old life.

"Cheers to Cam's retirement!" Natasha yelled as Cam and Fritz raised their drinks while they waited for their turn at the pool table.

Cam laughed and clinked her glass. "C'mon, retirement is a strong word. Let's not get sentimental about it."

Fritz, who was still recovering from his fractured leg, jabbed her in the ribs. "Tonight is all about being sentimental, Berlin. Haven't you heard?"

"I suppose I'll allow it," Cam relented, letting the bite of whiskey wash over her. "But just this once."

All around were the raucous sounds of a bar on a weekend night. An old Bruce Springsteen song was filtering through the room, mingling with loud laughter. Bradley was up near the bar talking to Reuben and Bob while he got a drink. Outside the wide windows, the sun was beginning to turn the world pink as it set. And there, in the sand-dusted parking lot, was her brother.

Gabe stood with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, button down shirt untucked. He smiled when he saw her and gave a little wave. As if he had only been waiting for her to look.

"You look like you just saw a ghost," Natasha told her, waving a hand in front of her face when Cam didn't answer what had just been said.

"I think I did." Cam looked again, and sure enough, he was still out there.

Bradley was making his way back over, looking equally confused. He cocked his head towards the parking lot. "Is that–?"

"Yeah," Cam said. "It is."

Natasha looked between them. "What the hell is going on?"

"Go," Bradley said, nudging Cam towards the door and taking her drink out of her hand. When she didn't move any further, he met her eyes. "He's here for you, Cam."

She nodded and moved towards the door.

The day that Gabe and Nikita met had been the polar opposite of this one. Rain had been lashing for hours, bad as a monsoon. Gabe had come to visit while she was stationed in Lemoore, Cam had suggested they all meet in the middle at the Hard Deck for a drink.

"I'm gonna need a towel," Nikita had said, wringing out her dirty blond hair. A small puddle formed on the floor.

Cam laughed, also soaked to the bone. "Where's that Navy toughness?"

"Outside in a mud puddle, probably."

They both ordered their drinks and sat at the bar to wait for Gabe to arrive. As they drank, they scanned the bar for couples out on dates, playing their favorite game where they came up with a story about how long each of the pairs had been together.

Nikita let out a short whistle and nodded across the bar. "That guy over there with the glasses, he's cute."

Cam followed the end of her friend's gaze with slight anxiety. The guy saw them looking and waved as he made his way over. "That guy would be my brother."

Nikita winced. "Sorry."

But she wasn't really sorry, and Cam wasn't either. Even when they started dating and didn't stop dating until the months rolled into two years and then the day arrived when Gabe proposed. They elected for a long engagement. The wedding never came.

And now they were here again, back at the same bar under clear skies. Seagulls called out overhead like an omen. Her steps reverberated against her skull, and a strange vertigo pinched at her senses. The last time she had seen him before the accident was with Kit. They were organizing the wedding, making plans for her to move into Gabe's small home on the outskirts of San Diego. So many dreams lay crushed at her feet. Everything in her wanted to turn and run. How could he forgive her for stealing so much?

"Hi," she said, coming to a stop in front of him. Discomfort crept over her and she suddenly didn't know what to do with her hands.

Gabe's curly hair was a little longer now, but the smile lines and the round glasses remained unchanged. Although, he wasn't smiling now. At that moment, she knew he was uncertain, too. "That's all you've got to say to me?"

Her explanation spilled forth. "I should have called, but you and I both know you wouldn't have answered. And for good reason," she added.

"Cameron, I didn't come all the way here just to yell at you again," he said quietly. "I miss you."

"You do?" she said softly. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

"Mom told me you were back in California. I should have gone back home while you were there but I just couldn't bring myself to own up to how I acted. I tried to catch you again, but they told me you had already left base. I realized then that there was a high chance you might not be coming back at all." He looked up at the sky, searching for words. "I regret everything, Cam."

She looked at him. "I'm so sorry. I don't think I'll ever stop being sorry for what happened."

"I know it wasn't your fault. I always knew, but it was easier to have someone to blame."

Cam nodded. "I know."

"Nikita–she never would have been so disappointed. I left you alone and I shouldn't have. Do you think you can forgive me?"

"Forgive you?" she blurted, laughing with disbelief. "I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life trying to get you to forgive me."

He pursed his lips. "I can see why you would have thought that."

She punched him good-naturedly in the arm. "You think?"

"So," he said, looking over her shoulder with a wry grin. "Can I buy you a drink?"

An olive branch. The one thing she never thought she would receive from the brother she had looked up to her entire life. Cam smiled. "I'd love one."

They stepped through the threshold of the bar. Cold air greeted them and Bradley, who had been waiting for her to come back in, lit up with a grin as he waved them over.

Gabe nudged her arm. "Is that Bradley Bradshaw? I thought you guys were sworn enemies."

"Not anymore," Cam said. She had so much to tell him. "I'm getting used to being wrong."

━━ 𓄼 𓄹 ━━

a/n welcome to the almost-end of the story 😭 

This chapter really is by all means the resolution of Cam's story; so much of this book has been about her own journey of guilt and finally making choices for herself.  I have one more shorter chapter that will function as the epilogue to this story to tie up the ends of Cam's family dynamic, her life after the Navy, and all those good things.  This book has deserved an ending for a very long time.  I'm currently planning on posting it a week from today, but if anything it will be out sooner!

Thank you again for reading this story; it really means a lot : )