Chapter Text
Bob blinked. Or at least, he tried to. He could feel his eyes moving behind his eyelids, but couldn’t quite seem to get them to cooperate. Why was it so difficult to open his eyes?
He swallowed, thought about moving his head, but sleep was pulling at him with all its might. He was just so tired.
He tried to blink again, the rest of his senses coming back to him slowly. His whole body ached as if he’d been hit by a train. Why did everything hurt?
Screaming. Shrapnel. Plummeting. A hard yank backwards. Smashing into the waves.
Memories came hurtling back as if they were a freight train, the panic and terror of those moments freezing his whole body in place. Oh God, what had happened? I must be in med bay, he thought, suddenly aware of the steady beeping of a heart monitor somewhere nearby. Is Jake okay?
That thought alone, the need to know, was enough for him to finally open his eyes. He quickly shut them again, squeezing tight against the sudden onslaught of light, the harsh white walls surrounding him.
“Bob?”
The WSO slowly turned his head at the soft voice, willing his eyes to focus as he realized someone was sitting at his bedside.
“Oh my God, you’re awake.”
It was Phoenix.
“‘Tasha?” Bob croaked through his sore throat, sure he was hallucinating, but too relieved to care. His closest friend was somehow here. Fuck, how long had he been out?
“You’ve been asleep for two days,” Natasha knew him far too well. She reached out to lay a gentle hand on his forearm. “What do you need? Water?”
“What is…where…” he couldn’t find the words.
“Jake is fine,” Phoenix answered and Bob let himself relax in relief.
She just answered with a soft smile, holding out a water cup with a straw for him to drink.
“How are you…” he trailed off before taking a miraculous sip of water.
“I was already on my way back. They…command requested that I return for the mission. But we got held up. We were at our last base and then the timetable moved up and- I’m so sorry, Bob.”
“‘S not your fault,” Bob mumbled, angling his chin down towards Nat’s hand on his arm. She squeezed a little tighter.
“You’re pretty hurt, Bob. You hit the water hard. You broke your ulna and fractured your wrist. You’ve got three cracked ribs, a hairline fracture on your orbital, and a few broken fingers - it took them ages to get all the water out of your lungs.” Natasha’s face was drawn in sympathy, her eyebrows pulling together as she explained. “I guess someone’s looking out for you though. You didn’t need any hardware and they got everything done in sick bay. They were…well, there was concern about keeping you stable if you had to be evac-ed out.”
“Jake?” Bob asked quietly.
“Like I said, he’s fine,” she patted his arm as her face smoothed back to a smile, “leave it to Hangman to survive a crash like that without a scratch on his pretty face.”
“Figures,” he took another sip of water. Thank goodness Jake was okay. He remembered the pilot calling to him, of trying to swim towards the sound of his voice, and then nothing. He wondered where Jake was right now.
Why he wasn’t here.
“He…Jake kept you above water for two hours.”
“What?” Bob snapped his focus back to Natasha who seemed to be assessing every tiny reaction. Now that he was fully conscious he could feel his arm throbbing against the blue cast that resided there, could feel his ribs twinge even as he moved his neck.
“You were only halfway back and the ‘copters can’t cover that much ground very fast, even though they mobilized the second they realized through the comms…”
She swallowed, eyes defocusing for a moment as they both sat still, the plethora of chirps from miscellaneous machines the only noise.
“Anyway, Seresin said you were unconscious when he found you, which is probably how you inhaled so much water. He kept your head above the waves until the rescue team found you.”
Bob didn’t even know what to say. How do you respond to something like that? Jake. Jake Seresin, whom two months ago Bob would have called one of the most stuck up, prideful, uncaring people he knew, had sat there in the freezing cold, treading water in the middle of the Pacific ocean for two hours to keep Bob’s broken, unconscious body afloat.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Bob,” Phoenix added, even as Floyd stared into the middle distance in contemplation.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he answered her after a beat.
She gave him another smile and another squeeze, rubbing her thumb up and down his arm.
“You need to get some rest, I’ll see if the doc can push some more morphine,” she stood from her seat, hand never leaving his arm. “I’ve gotta let Jake know you were awake, he’ll be so mad.”
“Mad?” Bob furrowed his brow even as ‘Tasha looked amused.
“Oh yeah. He was waiting for you to wake up, but…I think he was in here for a solid thirty hours before I all but forced Holiday to drag him away. I hope he finally got some sleep, he…he didn’t want to leave.”
Bob glanced up to Natasha who had an indecipherable expression on her face. Something assessing and wistful and knowing.
“How are you feeling, Lieutenant?” Doctor Henderson interrupted, rounding Floyd’s bed with a clipboard in his hands.
“Like I flew into a wall,” Bob tried to laugh but it just made his ribs ache.
“I bet. You’re lucky to be alive, son.”
“So Phoenix told me.”
“You’ve got your pilot to thank for that, I think. How’s your pain?”
“It-”
“He’s ready for another dose, doc,” Natasha spoke for him, her standard grin returning to her face.
Henderson glanced between them for only a moment before nodding his head, “Women tend to know best in my experience. Sound good to you, LT?”
“Yes, sir,” Bob answered weakly. Damn, now that he wasn’t entirely focused on Phoenix, he could feel practically every bone in his body screaming.
“This should help, but it’ll probably put you to sleep.”
“Get some rest, Bob,” Phoenix gave him one last shoulder squeeze before Henderson tapped a button by his IV drip. Bob could feel himself nodding his head even as the morphine entered his system. He felt warm all over, a sort of rush as his pain started to dissipate, and then he drifted off to sleep.
…
It was night the next time he awoke, or so he surmised. The lights in med bay had been turned off with only a desk lamp illuminating the area around Bob, joined by the LED displays on various machines.
He came-to slowly, just as before, groggy from sleep and the painkillers. He felt better than he had last, coming to full alertness more quickly, which he hoped was probably a good sign. He squinted his eyes open and realized that someone was once again at his bedside.
This time, it was Jake.
Instead of speaking up Bob took his time in observing the pilot. He looked tired, with circles under his eyes, but he seemed to be unhurt, just as Phoenix had professed, no scratches or bruises to be found.
He was currently reading, holding a book in one hand and his phone in the other, using the dull glow from his screen to cast enough light to see the words. He was slightly stooped over, as if in effort to make even that small amount of light smaller, to let Bob sleep.
Bob knew at that moment he was in love with Jake.
An ache settled in his chest, right in his sternum, at the absolutely overwhelming feeling of affection that swept over him. No matter what had happened in the past he knew with absolute clarity that Jake would always look out for him - would find ways to make him laugh, to annoy him at all times and be so endearing despite it all, and would most likely, from what he’d gathered so far, spoil Bob to absolutely no end.
“What’re you reading?” Bob asked as an absolute calm washed over him.
Jake snapped his head up so fast Floyd could hear his neck crack.
“Bobby!” He exclaimed, standing and depositing his book down in the chair all in one motion, phone and everything else forgotten. His hands gripped the metal rails of Bob’s infirmary bed, ringing them with pent up energy.
“Hey,” Bob murmured, turning his head fully towards the blonde.
“Phoenix said you’d been awake, I’m sorry that I-”
“Jake.”
Seresin swallowed as Bob stopped him, placing his hand in the space between both of Jake's, their skin just brushing.
“‘Tasha told me,” Bob mumbled.
“Okay, I don’t know what you heard, but Holiday did not have to barricade me in the-”
“Jake.”
He looked nervous, gaze looking repeatedly down towards the white sheets instead of making eye contact, hands still flexing around the guardrail.
“She told me about the rescue…about you keeping me above water.”
“Well, I…” Jake didn’t seem to know what to say, and that. That right there was so different from how things would have been at Top Gun. Jake would have babbled to no end about how he had saved the day.
“I couldn’t…you couldn’t. You were going to…I had to keep you alive, Bobby.”
Finally his green eyes met Bob’s and the WSO could see so much emotion behind them. Had it always been there and he’d just failed to see it? Could he interpret it now that he actually knew the “real” Jake?
“Thank you,” Bob let his pinky finger push up against Jake’s hand. The pilot stopped fidgeting at once.
“I couldn’t let you go, Bob,” Jake whispered. He pushed his hand closer, a few fingers overlapping Bob’s even as he moved his other hand and braced it on the mattress near Floyd’s head. He leaned down, hovering close, eyes sparkling with the pinpoint lights illuminating the room.
“What book are you reading?” Bob didn’t break eye contact.
Jake’s brow furrowed at the non-sequitur, glancing to the side as if to check before he answered.
“The new Sanderson edition.”
Bob felt a sure smile pull at his lips.
“I didn’t think you liked fantasy.”
He felt his eyes lock with Jake’s once again as realization seemed to dawn for both of them.
“I don’t, I…got it for you.”
Jake matched his smile.
“Thought so.”
Before Bob could even think he was lifting his unbroken arm, grabbing the lapel of Jake’s khakis, pulling the other man down, and crashing their lips together.