Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jake looked up just in time for a raindrop to hit his nose. He scrunched his face in annoyance as he rubbed the water off, as raindrops slowly fell from the sky. Hangman cursed his luck on taking a long damn walk, ending up somewhere in town he’d never been before, and immediately ducked inside a coffee shop he’d never been in before. 

He sighed when he turned around and realized the sky turned dark and it was pouring. He observed the small hole-in-a-wall coffee shop he ended up in. Warm tones, soft cushions, and bookshelf lined walls. Couple people in it.

He walked up to the counter, passing by a table with a gray-haired man who dropped his pen doing paperwork. Jake absentmindedly bent forward quickly to snatch the pen off the ground and set it on the old man's table.

"Here you go, Gramps, don't want you hurting your back or anythin', “ Jake absentmindedly drawled as he contemplated getting a cappuccino or their hot special of the day.

The old man snorted, "You'll end up my age too, son, and it'll come faster than you think."

"That's what all grandpas say," Jake said while ordering his drink, the barista watching in amusement.

"I'm 57."

"Life really puts you through the ringer, huh?"

"Says the 20-something dressed like a depressed college student."

Jake scoffed, gesturing to himself, "Please, no college student looks this good."

The old man raised a brow, “Whatever, you want to think, kid,” the man said smirking.

“Please, I only say what I hear from others,” Jake said, raising his drink up in an imitation of a cheer. 

The old man barked a laugh at that, "goddamn, son, you're full of shit."

Jake grinned back and tipped the barista as he sauntered back to the old man's table to knock his knuckles against the wood before sitting down on another table nearby.

The old man simply opened his newspaper to read with a flourish, peering over the edge to smirk at him.

“You are really not beating the old man, allegations, Gramps,” Jake said, slipping across the chess table in the park.

The man raised a brow, but was smiling, “Never denied it, kid, now humor this bored old man and make your move.” He gestured towards the neat row of white pieces.

“Aye, aye,” Jake said, moving a middle pawn forward. 

“So, what’s your name, kid?” The old man said, playing his turn.

“Jake, and you, Gramps?”

“Tom, but will you even be using it with how much you’re calling me, Gramps?” Tom said wryly.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll use it for special occasions,” Jake said grinning mischievously.

“Sure, kid.”

“Look, you’re even copying my style!”

“Debating whether or not to get the premade nutrition shakes or the powdered ones?” Jake asked, coming up beside Tom.

Tom looks at the kid and at the basket he was holding, snorting at the items in it. “Hey, better than the instant noodles you have there.” 

“It’s convenient!” Jake protested, “Plus it’s not like it’s the only thing I eat, I’m getting other food too.”

Tom hummed, “And to answer your question, yes, the powdered is cheaper and more practical, but my husband would forget to make his, so it might be better to get the premade to actually get him to drink the damn thing,” Tom answered, watching the kid from the side of his eye.

“Just get both?” Jake answered, looking unbothered by the new information.

“I was planning on doing that,” Tom simply said and grabbed the items he wanted. “Now, I need to get some meat,” Tom trailed off, starting to walk away before glancing back at the kid who paused to stare at him. Tom raised a brow before the kid perked up.

“I was planning on getting some chicken and beef,” the boy catched on, following Tom. “But I do need to pass by the cereal section.”

“My god, you are a child.”

Tom decided to walk to the diner, after his morning run. Spying a familiar blonde at the counter once he opened the door. He deliberated his options for a second before shrugging and slipping into the seat right next to the kid. Knocking on the counter in front of the kid, when he realized the boy was wearing those damn wireless earbuds and engrossed in the menu. 

The boy finally looked up, eyes wide before realizing who exactly bothered him and gave him a bright smile.

Damn he was getting soft. 

“Gramps,” the kid said brightly, removing his earbuds.

“Kid,” the older man said, nodding at the menu. “You know what’s good here?”

“Nah, it’s my first time, just lookin’,” Jake said, flipping the toothpick to rest at the other side of his mouth.

“The pancakes are always great, but I like the spinach and cheese omelet myself,” Tom said, opening the menu in front of him. “I take it you’re not from this area?”

“Nah, I moved here for work,” Jake muttered, flipping  the menu to the pancakes.

“Oh? What do you do?”

He watched as Jake’s jaw twitched, shoulders tensing for a brief second before relaxing, the easy-going smile put back into place. Tom would have never noticed if he hadn’t spent the majority of his life climbing up the ranks. 

“Navy,” the kid said, side-eyeing Tom for a second.

“Very nice,” Tom simply said, deciding to take the attention away from the kid. “My husband’s in the Navy, he works at the base nearby.”

The kid relaxed at that, looking at Tom with open curiosity. “Really? Do you think I’d–”

“What can I get for you gentlemen today?” A frazzled waitress asked, coming by with a tired smile and notepad ready.

“I’ll have a spinach and cheese omelet, the French toast meal with sausage and eggs over-easy, and a cup of coffee, please,” Tom recited before raising a brow to the kid to order as well.

“Uhh, I’ll have the pancake meal, with bacon and scrambled eggs, and also the spinach omelet thing,” the kid said, flustered about being put on the spot immediately. “And coffee too, yeah, ma’am.”

“Okay gentlemen, I’ll get your coffee to start, alright?” The waitress said not waiting for a reply before dashing off.

“Anyways– what’re you doin’ this early anyways? I thought old men need their sleep,” Jake threw back, grinning at Tom, the previous question forgotten.

“I went for a run, decided to have breakfast here,” Tom said, shrugging.

“You run?” Jake asked, mouth gaping a bit as he quickly scanned Tom. “You’re not going to pass out, are ya?” Jake said, furrowing his brows.

Little shit.

“Calm down, I’m not going to keel over, hell I would even bet I could run longer than you,” Tom said, saying a brief thank you to the waitress who handed him his coffee.

“Yeah, sure, Gramps,” the kid rolled his eyes. 

“Do you even go on runs?” Tom asked the cocky piece of shit.

“A couple times a week,” Jake said.

Tom hummed, “If you run around the area we’d probably bump into one another one day.”

“That seems likely considering our track record,” Jake said, grinning.

“Oh? I thought you were stalking me,” Tom said, lightly chuckling.

Jake simply grinned widely in response, a retort about to roll out if the waitress hadn’t sat down both of their meals in front of them. The waitress left behind their bill, Tom quickly grabbed the stub, and waved the kid away.

“Go dig in, I got it,” Tom said lightly, keeping the paper out of the kid’s reach.

“You sure–?” Jake asked, hesitantly.

“Yes, take the free meal, son,” Tom said, exasperated, wondering where the hell did the cocky behavior go. 

Being an Admiral, he felt even more obligated to take the bill now knowing that the kid probably is exposed to what the Navy considers food. It’s not like it’ll make a dent in his salary, anyways.

“Okay, but just so you know I asked because I was worried for your pension,” Jake said, shrugging and shoveling the eggs in his mouth.

Tom pointed a fork skewered with French toast at the boy. “Just for that, you’re going to have to pay for the next one.”

Jake stopped eating and looked at Tom with a shit-eating grin, “So there is going to be a next time?”

Tom gave a heavy sigh, “Suppose so,” but the corner of his mouth twitched up in amusement. 

“What are you looking for?” Mav asked, exasperated as Tom’s eyes darted between the different paths of the park they were jogging in. 

“Nothing,” Tom said simply, letting out a small sigh.

“Uh-huh,” Mav said with a raised brow, but decided to drop it. “Let’s pick up the pace, old-man, if you have enough energy to get distracted, then you have enough energy to run faster,” Mav said grinning, before starting to jog faster.

Ice scoffed, rolling his eyes as he kept up with Mav, “I’m only 3 years older than you, Pete, to the young ones we’re practically the same age. Old.”

Mav just gave out a laugh as he once again started picking up the pace.

Ice inadvertently thought about what name Jake would give Mav whe– if he met him.

“On your left, kid,” a voice said, startling Jake as he looked to his side to see Tom there, keeping pace with his jog.

Jake plucked out his earbuds and quickly stored them in their case as he gave the older man a grin, “So the prophecy comes true, huh?”

“Seems so,” Tom said dryly, but with a small smile. “Also, you ought to be paying attention to your surroundings, those earbuds practically kill your sense of hearing.”

Jake snorted, “I could hear you approachin’ just fine! I just didn’t think I knew the person behind me.”

“So you were waiting until you got attacked or not to figure that out?” Ice said a brow raised.

Jake pouted, “Well, when you put it like that,” Jake trailed off. “But then again, look at me, people would think twice before they mess with me,” Jake said, gesturing to himself with a smirk.

“Or they would target you knowing that people your size replace endurance with muscle.”

“Hey!” Jake said, glaring at Tom, but with no real heat behind it. “I’ll show you endurance, gramps, there’s a trail nearby a couple miles long, wanna bet which one of us would still be standin’ by the end of it?” Jake said, looking at Tom with a cocky smirk.

“I know which one you’re talking about, kid, let’s go, pick up the pace,” Tom said, jogging faster taking the lead.

Jake was surprised by the change of pace before he ended up being mortified at Tom’s response, “Wait, wait, wait– Gramps! Are you sure? I don’t want ya to keel over! What if you pass out–!?”

Tom glanced back and smirked at the dumbstruck kid, “then you’ll use those muscles and so-called endurance of yours to carry me back.”

“I-Come on! This is serious old man–”

Chapter Text

“-- F-18’s frame to your advantage through implementing–”

“Captain Mitchell.” A man with 4 stars strolled in the room. “At ease,” the man continued, when his eyes flashed to the aviators who shifted to stand.

Maverick stopped his lecture and assessed the other man, “Admiral–,” his eyes flashed down to the tag on his uniform. “-- Johnson. I wasn’t expecting your arrival. How can I help you today?” A noticeable pause. “Sir.”

There was a steely glint in the other man’s eye before his face smoothened out in a neutral expression. “Well, I just wanted to see the newly formed Squadron, the Dagger Squad was it?” The Admiral started, walking towards the middle of the classroom. “I am excited to see what future results the squad would produce.”

“It’s been two months since the success of the mission, Admiral–”

“It’s been two months since any achievements have been made.”

“I suppose it shows that our country isn’t at war, why? Is it, Admiral?” Maverick said slowly.

“The Navy should always be prepared,” Admiral Johnson said eerily, flashing his teeth in a smile.

“And our training records prove that we are prepared,” Maverick responded. “The team is trained to push past barriers and is in the process of breaking even more records. If you have an issue with the team, we can discuss this further with the Air Boss to clear up any misunderstandings,” Captain Mitchell calmly said, stepping forward into the Admiral’s personal space. 

The Admiral let out a chuckle, shaking his head, “Your reputation precedes you, Captain.”

Captain Mitchell didn’t respond to the bait, simply smiled pleasantly at the man.

Admiral Johnson, stepped back and twirled towards the Daggers, all sitting up straight. He gave them a bright smile, and clapped his hands once, “Now, which one of you is Hangman?”

Jake’s face stayed impassive as he stood up at attention, “Me, Admiral.”

“Good, come with me, Lieutenant.” Admiral said, twirling on his heel, starting towards the door.

“Where are you taking my aviator?” Maverick asked, voice hard, as his eyes flickered to Hangman who was already starting to follow and the still back of the Admiral.

“Captain, that’s your rank, isn't it?” The Admiral started. “Your obstinance may be appreciated in the field, but at the end of the day, I am an Admiral, giving orders. You said the Daggers were some of the best, yes? Then you lot would be fine while me and Hangman have a quick chat.” The Admiral said, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. “Stand down, Captain.”

Maverick made eye-contact with Hangman, who gave a nod before following the Admiral out of the room.

The room was silent for a minute.

“We will be having a brief recess, be back in 30, dismissed,” Maverick said, quickly walking out. 

“I don’t know either, Mitchell,” Cyclone said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was probably informed about this the same time you did.”

“He singled out Hangman, why? I thought the kid was cleared of any infract–”

Cyclone glared sharply at Mitchell, “Mitchell. Repeat after me, there was no infraction, remember?” Cyclone sounded out, making Mav flashback to the extensive debrief that straightened out everyone’s stories to the best possible outcome.

Cyclone was a hardass, but a good man. 

Although, he did carry a sufficient amount of paranoia that every admiral possessed. 

“Right,” Mav said, still tense. “If it’s not disciplinary then what–”

“If I had to suspect, it may be about a mission, the squad hasn't been sent into any missions, the admiral may have one that I do not know about, yet. ” Cyclone said, stressing the last word. 

“But why only Hangman? He’s not the team leader.”

I still haven’t designated one.

“But his track-record is the best among his generation, the Admiral is probably using him as an entry point to the rest of the squad,” Cyclone said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Rest assured, Captain, no one is getting deployed without my supervision, I still am the Air Boss, and the Daggers are still my responsibility.” Cyclone said, standing up to go around the table, to face Maverick, eye-to-eye, “Let me know if there are any changes.”

Mav gave a small smile, “You’re softer than people realize, Cyclone.”

“Get out of my office.”

Jake watched the steam curl up from the mug between his hands. Thoughts drifting from the conversation that occurred with Admiral Johnson.

“Pulled out temporarily for a solo mission.”

“-- Represent the Dagger Squad’s effectiveness–”

“--- you may choose to decline, but you know how these missions go, and I would hate to find another aviator–”

Jake stared down at his cup, seeing a shaky and dark reflection of himself staring back at him. It was weird, how his features were simultaneously sharp enough to recognize what he was seeing, but murky enough that it feels unreal. Like a monotone-expressionism painting–

“We are a team, sir, my individual actions are not a fair point to represent the whole team.”

“No, but it may boost the team’s credibility, boost the team’s backing and funding. It would be a shame, if the team couldn’t show some results, considering the amount of training each of you have gone through.”

“You know, you’re supposed to drink that, right?” A voice said, Tom sitting in the chair, right in front of Jake’s view. 

Jake mock glared, and pointedly brought the mug to his lips to take a sip. Before bringing the mug down.

“And you do know that cafes are where you’re supposed to buy food and drink, not just sit at some randos table,” Jake said, smirking.

“Cafes are also a place for socialization and personal meetings, your generation would understand that if you weren’t so attached to your phones.”

Jake raised a brow, “I’m not holding a phone, right now.”

“No, but you are wearing those damn earbuds,” Tom pointed out, making Jake quickly put them in their case, not realizing that he was still wearing them despite no sound being played. “Also you were brooding, thinking too hard, I was worried you’d hurt yourself,” Tom said, flashing his teeth.

Unlike Johnson's, the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes looked natural, eyes twinkling in amusement. It reminded him of Mav in some ways. Genuine.

“I’m not brooding,” Jake said, pouting as he took another sip of his coffee at Tom’s raised brow.

“Uh huh, now, do you want anything? I’m going to get a drink, then I can join you,” Tom said standing up before pausing. “If you want to, that is-?”

“Yeah, of course,” Jake blinked up at Tom as if he was confused on why Tom was asking that question.

Tom gave a huff, a small smile forming as he ruffled the kid’s hair as he passed by the kid to the counter. Ignoring the kid’s indignant squawk. 

He’d make sure to buy the kid one of the pastries, he looks like he’d need it. 

He watched the kid dig in the pastry he got him, after 2 minutes of wide-eyed wonder and thanks that Tom bought him one.

It made Tom feel uneasy. For all the kid’s arrogance, none of it was visible when he presented the kid with a pastry. Similar reaction when he got the kid the meal in the diner. Sure, the thanks is appreciated, but it’s that surprise that’s visible on Jake’s face, and how he would look up at Tom in awe. It made his heart clench. 

It was food. No one should be that thankful for food.

“So,” Tom started, tearing a piece of his croissant, “What were you brooding about?”

Jake gave out a weary sighed, shoulder slumping as he massaged his temples with a hand. “It’s work…”

“You work in the Navy, right? COs giving you a hard time?” Tom asked casually.

“No, I mean– not really? I don’t know, it’s just,” Jake paused, jaw clenching and unclenching. “The orders sound reasonable, but I just have a weird feeling, that’s all, I can’t really explain it– I’m not supposed to tell you anyways,” Jake muttered, taking a sip of coffee.

“I see…”

“Anyways,” Jake said, switching the topic, “Why are you here today, gramps? Is this cafe the new hotspot for retirees?” Jake said, smirking.

Tom visibly rolled his eyes, “Hilarious. You do know I’m not actually retired, right?”

Jake looked unimpressed as he raised a brow, “You look like it.”

“Excuse me?” Tom asked, eyebrows raised, as he looked down at what he thought was normal clothes.

“Your hair is white and you have glasses,” Jake said earnestly, nodding his head.

“Really? You know what, fine,” Tom said, waving Jake off, making the boy cackle in amusement.

Tom took another bite of his croissant, watching the kid’s tense shoulders relax. Good.

“You may be an Admiral, but you have no right to simply pull one of my men out of his squadron –” Cyclone said, voice straining to stay even as he glowered down at Johnson.

“I outrank you,” Johnson said simply, giving Cyclone a self-satisfied smile. “Plus, this would benefit his team and himself in the future, isn’t that right, Hangman?”

Hangman stood still, face impassive, not giving anything away as he replied with a standard, “Yes sir.”

“See, everything has been settled then, I expect you to be ready by 1400,” Johnson said, clasping Hangman’s shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. “1400, see you then.”

Johnson left the room, the door giving a definitive shut behind him.

Jake could still feel the man’s touch crawling on his shoulder.

Cyclone took a deep breath as he unclenched his jaw to look at the Lieutenant, “At ease, Seresin, you can sit down.” Cyclone said as he sat back down in his desk chair.

Jake soon followed, sitting down on the chair across from Cyclone's desk. Giving out a sigh as he rested his forearms on his knees, running a hand through his hair.

“You can say no, you do know that, right Seresin?” Cyclone said calmly.

Jake let out a mirthless chuckle at that, “You know we can’t afford that.”

“You have at least two members of your squadron with a history of disobeying orders, especially in the Uranium mission. And several of your members have not been particularly….. impressive. “

Cyclone pursed his lips in a tense line, brows furrowed, “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing, the higher ups don’t already know, the Dagger Squad is new and unsteady, he just reminded me of that,” Jake muttered, unwrapping a toothpick and chewing at the tip.

“And many of the higher ups would fight for the Dagger Squad,” Cyclone continued.

“I know, but this is an easy way to be in their good graces, plus, it’s just a week.” Jake said firmly, straightening up and staring at Cyclone in the eye. “It’s just a week-long mission, nothing I haven’t done before.”

Cyclone stared at Seresin in the eye before sighing, “I don’t like this, I know Johnson wants something, he’s manipulating the Daggers, you especially, I just don’t know his end game.”

“We just gotta wait for him to make a mistake,” Jake said simply.

“A mistake could cause casualties,” Cyclone simply stated.

“I know,” Jake said standing up. “I have to inform Captain Mitchell and pack my belongings, sir, may I be dismissed?”

Cyclone nodded, “I just have one more thing to say to you, Lieutenant.” Cyclone stood in front of Seresin, squeezing his shoulder, “stand your ground, come back safe. You have my backing, understood Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Admiral,” Seresin said, the corner of his lip twitching up as he turned and left.

“What do you mean you’re going on a solo mission?” Rooster asked as Hangman shut his locker shut as he finished packing his belongings. 

“It means I’m going to fly alone for an assignment.”

Toothbrush. Uniform. Uniform. Towel. Helmet–

“We are supposed to be a team, I- we’re your wingmen, we should be by your side, on your 6,” Rooster continued.

Jake pursed his lips, before he turned to face Rooster giving him a disarming smile. “Come on, it’ll only be a week, plus, solo missions are what I’m made for, right?”

Rooster’s brow furrowed, “Solo missions shouldn’t be sanctioned– anyways, fuck that, Hangman, you’re part of a permanent team. At least one of us should be with you.”

“Dagger Squad’s permanency is in question–”

Hangman’s face turned serious, “That’s the reason why I accepted it,” Hangman said slowly before letting out a sigh. “Plus, it’ll only be a week.”

Rooster shook his head, “None of us don’t like this, Mav is trying to figure out what Johnson’s angle is– isn’t this strange to you?”

Jake gave a sigh, “It’s just Navy politics, and it’s better to play along, until we can figure shit out, plus,” Jake said, forcing himself to smirk at Bradshaw. “Didn’t think you’d care this much Brad-Brad,” Jake teased.

Bradley raised a brow at the younger man, seemingly unconvinced at the smirk Jake showed. “We’re teammates,” Bradley said simply. “You didn’t leave me hanging when it mattered, and I won’t either.”

Jake’s smile softened, “I know Bradshaw, don’t worry, I’ll be back to kick your ass in a week.”

“You better.”

This was hell.

“Hangman, this is your flight schedule,” An officer said, handing him a sheet of paper with back to back flights. “You’ll be going solo.”

Fine.

“You have to escort them out of the airspace, it’s just a cargo plane, let us know if any issue occurs.”

“Okay, send one of the aviators as back-up, it is still a military cargo plane after all. There may be jets nearby”

“Negative, they’re busy.”

Hangman clenched his jaw, “Ask one of them to be on standby, anyways.”

“Negative, you outgun them, Seresin, do your job.”

Fine.

“Seresin, wheels up in 15.”

Fine.

“Take another lap of patrol around the sector.”

“My fuel tank–”

“Will be fine.”

Fine.

“Where’s the paperwork Seresin? I needed that 2 hours ago!”

Fine.

“There are 5th-gens surrounding me,” Seresin called in the radio, watching as two planes were flanking him.  “I need backup!”

“Just play nice, Lieutenant. Do not fire first.”

“No shit,” Seresin muttered, hands clenching and unclenching the stick in anticipation. “What’s the status of that back-up? They are coming way too close to my plane to call this interaction safe.”

“Negative. Back-up is too far away,” the voice paused and Hangman could hear muttering on the other side of the radio. “The Admiral orders you to evade if necessary, do not fire unless they fire first.”

Hangman clenched his jaw as he watched another jet coming towards him. The other two jets steadily stayed way too close to his own aircraft. He looked to his left and saw the helmet of the other pilot staring back at him. The other pilot tilted his head at him.

What’s your next move?

Fuck this. Fine. 

Hangman pushed his stick making his plane dive into a death spiral. 

“You are dismissed from your post, Lieutenant. Good work,” Johnson said smiling pleasantly at Jake who nodded back and left at the dismissal. 

Admiral Johnson leaned back on his seat, hands clasped on his belly as he smiled. 

Good aviator. 

Chapter Text

Ice wouldn’t admit that every time he was out, he always kept an eye for a certain blond young man these days. It made life interesting, broke up the monotone constant tones in his life.

They never plan their meetings. It just happens. It pretty much happens every other day, but not everyday. 

(Although Jake nor Tom would ever admit that they started changing their schedules bit by bit to sync up with the other’s schedules).

So when Tom didn’t see him Monday or Tuesday, he wasn’t concerned. It’s the start of the week, the kid might be busy.

Wednesday, Tom usually did groceries before dinner time. It’s also another place where he often sees the kid.

Before he knew it, he was looking at a full cart, everything in his list ticked off. He started walking towards the check-out, if he was walking slower than usual, taking the time to read the labels of the items in the store, no one was there to call him out on it. He reached the cereal aisle, and he peeked over. No one.

Ice sighed before he finally made his way to check out.

No sight on Thursday or Friday.

Did the kid get deployed somewhere else? No, he would have known, there hadn't been any deployments. 

Was there something keeping him busy on-base? 

Ice was doing the final tidbits of work in his home-office before he heard the front door slam shut, making him frown.

Eventually, he heard the thumping of feet and the office door swung open and a pissed off Maverick was standing right in front of him, folder in his hand.

“Pete?” Tom asked, worried as he set his pen down. “Are you okay?”

As soon as he asked, all the fight left Pete’s shoulders, making the other man sigh and slump down on the swivel chair in front of him. Mav, casually threw the folder on the desk.

“Some admiral is interfering with my team,” Mav said simply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Cyclone and Warlock tried running interference, but this Admiral outranks all of us, he practically manipulated Hangman on taking a sudden solo week-long deployment.”

Ice frowned, “Manipulated, how? Even if he’s an Admiral, he shouldn’t be able to just take a man out of your roster that quickly.”

“Basically told the kid that the team needs results to stay a permanent squadron,” Mav said, simply. “Of course, that wasn’t directly said, but you know how the upper brass is with words.”

Ice eyebrow twitched, “I put the team together and you will be staying together. No one can just mess around with that, and your team has been pulling in good results. Sure, not in active combat since the Uranium mission, but in terms of training and testing the different applications of training techniques? Yes.”

“That’s what I thought as well, so Cyclone, Warlock, and I did some digging, and this guy’s clean,” Mav said, jaw twitching. “The only issue I can see is that he works closely with Admiral Chester Cain. I may be biased, but that man rubs me the wrong way, so does this one.” Mav nodded his head at the folder, which Ice took and opened.

Admiral Johnson. Ice didn’t circle around him much, but he has heard of him.

“Hangman was the one pulled out, correct? I remember his record, very impressive,” Ice muttered, mind flashing back to Hangman’s file when he was putting together the daggers.

Ice saw the corner of Mav’s mouth twitch upwards, “Yeah the kid’s good, very good, Seresin will go far.”

“Do you think Johnson is trying to poach the kid?” 

“Possibly, but I don’t think that’s his only end goal, but I can’t figure out his play, neither can Cyclone.”

Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson, a good man, one of the most competent. Quickly rose through the ranks, but Iceman has more experience dealing with the politics of being part of the brass.

“Why didn’t you bring this up to me, sooner?” Ice asked. “The Daggers are my responsibility as well.”

“Yeah, but most people don’t know that and we should keep it that way,” Mav simply said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Also, Cyclone and I thought we could deal with it ourselves, but,” Mav bit his lip nervously before looking down and sighed.

Ice patiently waited for Mav to continue.

“They wouldn’t communicate with us on how the kid– Hangman’s doing, Hangman hasn’t been in contact either,” Mav said. “We’re his team, Cyclone, Warlock, and I are his commanding officers, but Johnson and his team keep on deflecting. Hell, it was a miracle Cyclone got to speak with Johnson for 2 minutes.”

“How long before the kid is scheduled to come back?” Ice asked.

“The kid left at 1400 last Monday, Johnson scheduled him to come back and resume normal duties by 1200 next Monday,” Mav said. “I don’t know if Johnson means that Hangman’s coming back Sunday or Monday morning, I don’t even know Hangman’s status.”

Manipulation. Practically lying. Lack of communication. Abuse of authority.

“Cain knows that I created the Dagger team,” Ice said. “If the two of them are close, Johnson would know as well.”

“It doesn’t make sense that they would want to take Hangman, Cain is obsessed with transitioning to using drones. Hangman is one of the best aviators,” Mav said, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“It could be a long game,” Ice said. “Let me look into this more, and I’ll tell you when I get something concrete.”

Mav opened his mouth to protest.

“If I tell you my theories now, none of them may be true and you’ll just worry, Mav, I promise I’ll tell you if it’s important,” Ice said simply.

“Fine,” Mav said, “But, let me know how Hangman is, alright? The other kids are worried about him too.”

Ice’s eyes softened, “Of course.”

Mav stood up and rounded the desk to stand behind Ice’s chair. Tom leaned back to look up at Pete who smiled warmly and leaned over to press a quick peck on his lips before wrapping his arms around Tom’s neck and burying his face into the crook of Tom’s neck.

“I’m home, honey,” Mav said.

Tom let out a chuckle at that, “Welcome home, Pete.”

The next day, Ice flipped through the file Mav gave him. Cyclone, Warlock, and Mav did most of the preliminary investigation, and he made sure to read every detail.

Lieutenant Jacob “Hangman” Seresin.

Ice never met the kid, haven’t met any of the Daggers in person yet, actually, but he has heard of the kid. 

Hangman’s been making waves in the Navy.

Impressive stats. Top Gun. Broken records. Praise from his commanding officers. Only aviator with a confirmed air-to-air kill. 

He was an instant choice for the Uranium mission.

A choice Ice would forever thank because this was the man who saved his husband and son.

Ice pulled up Hangman’s file, and the first page was his basic information and a picture. Ice blinked. Lieutenant Jacob “Hangman” Seresin. Jacob. Jac– Jake. Tom couldn’t help, but let out a small laugh of incredulity.

The kid he managed to get attached to was the missing Dagger. 

That’s why he hasn’t seen the kid in a while, holy shit.

Tom knew the kid was Navy, but he didn’t search or pull up his file, he didn’t want to breach  the kid’s privacy (even if it was unlikely that the kid would find out). He wanted Jake to trust him.

Tom felt anger bursting in his chest, rising as it clogged his throat. Throat clenched tightly.

He was already irritated with the Admiral messing with the Daggers. Pissed that he was hearing about the manipulation. He read the transcripts, a good ton of what Johnson said isn’t true. But now? 

Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it in.

Jake was sitting on the park bench, a far away look in his eyes as he watched children run across the field or play games in the playground. He looked forlorn.

The kid didn’t see Tom yet, and Tom stepped back a bit and looked around. Looking at how some of the kid’s have ice cream in their hands. An ice cream vendor nearby.

Everyone likes ice cream, right?

Tom got two cones and walked up to the kid.

“Here, I promise that it isn’t poison,” Tom said, sitting down next to the boy handing over the cone. 

The boy looked up wide-eyed as he took the ice cream in shock. Looking back down at the treat and back up at Tom. Instead of some snarky remark–

“This is for me?” Jake asked in a soft voice, one that can easily be lost in the wind.

Tom’s eyes softened before awkwardly patting the kid’s back twice, “Yeah kid, it’s for you, eat up before it starts melting.”

Jake looked back down at the ice cream before he took a bite out of it. Ice suddenly remembered the time when he was Jake’s age, crunching ice at the O-club.

Tom smiled before digging into his own ice cream.

Iceman breathed out the air in his lungs, opening his eyes, seeing the kid’s serious expression. 

This won’t happen again.

Iceman picked up his phone and dialed his secretary. “Patch me in with Admiral Johnson, tell him that the Commander of the Pacific Fleet needs to talk to him immediately, don’t take any of his bullshit.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Iceman pulled up Johnson and Cain’s file.

Jake finally trudged back to his apartment, wanting to just end the day.

He got back on base at 1300 and only had an hour before he was ordered to report to work.

Mav saw him and told him to go home and Hangman just shook his head and refused. He wanted to finish his day.

Mav was about to protest before he was called somewhere else. Mav gave him a look that said, this wasn’t over. However, Hangman was good at evading and deflecting. He kept his head down, deflected the other Dagger’s concerns, and immediately went home when it was time to clock out.

It was still just 1730, but Jake wanted nothing more, but to crash into bed.

He kicked off his boots and trudged to the bathroom, staring at the mirror. Dark circles and he thinks he managed to lose a bit of weight in the one week he was gone.

He took off his shirt, poking at the bruises in his torso. During the flight he had to use some more unpredictable maneuvers, his harness kept him steady, but the pressure required to do so was painful. Not that he realized it at that time, he was mostly focused on evading. It was only hours after he landed did he realize the pain. He could have gone to medical, but it didn’t feel like he broke anything.

Your performance reflects the Daggers as a–

He just needs some sleep and then he’ll be okay.