ROOTS 14

 Part 4 of: The Lies We Told Each Other

Fandom: Top Gun (Movies), Thunderheart (1992), Madam Secretary

STORY INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html

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Chapter 14: Edge of Tomorrow

Summary: Jake Seresin (or Mitchell?) returns home with his brother and father.
 

USS Theodore Roosevelt, Sea of Okhotsk, Tuesday, November 12, 2019

 

After the desperate hugs and sobs on the deck of the USS Roosevelt, Vice Admiral Simpson came to put things in order.

Mavdad tried to avoid the physical checkup, but the Navy medical personnel did not believe in the rank or number of enemies shot down. Thank Good. When Jake snuck in to see him, his father was sleeping with his torso bare and shiny with ointments. His skin was an almost continuous bruise. He noticed the checkup notes hanging at the foot of the bed and rushed to grab them. It turns out this was his father's second ejection in three weeks, and the previous one had occurred from five kilometers high? He read it several times because... It couldn't be! What the hell was his father doing? Why would Iceman allow such things?

Of course, added to the blows that day were the reopening of subcutaneous wounds from the previous jump that had not yet healed. But there were no broken ribs, no signs of intracranial bleeding, or other neurological damage. So Jake settled into the chair next to the bed, took his father's hand, and prepared to wait.

Bradley found him there late that night when he finally finished briefing Simpson (and Icepop via videoconference) of the most inane details of his adventures through Yakut territory stealing planes.

"Hey," he said softly and rubbed his shoulder.

He didn't want to wake their father.

Jake sat up straight and groaned.

"Hey," he greeted back.

He rolled his neck and shoulders a couple of times to loosen the numbness.

"I brought you food," Bradley handed him a package that turned out to be a chicken sandwich that was not too dry, with tomatoes that were not too wilted.

Then, he carefully sat down on the end of the bed.

"How is he doing?" -He asked, looking at their father with apprehension.

"A nurse came by to check the IV and give him a second dose of painkillers. He says he should sleep painless until tomorrow. Then came Simpson. He stared at him intently, as if he didn't know if he should be happy or upset because he was alive.

"Yes, I know that look," Bradley agrees. "It's the look they always give him at the Annual Navy Ball."

Jake rolled his eyes. Of course, his father would go to the Annual Navy Ball just to piss off the brass. Ah! The prerogatives of being the lover of the Commander of the Pacific Fleet.

"Didn't he say anything about you being here?"

"No. He just said it was good that someone was watching him. He knows…?"

"I do not know, that's the truth. But it turns out that it was Admiral Kazansky who ordered you to take off."

Jake doesn't react to this information. He's too tired to feign surprise. Bradley decides it's not worth asking. After all, his dead father helped them escape from Sakha-Yakutia. He doesn't think he'll resist if his brother tells him that he, too, had an X-Files experience.

"So, he must imagine that Iceman plans to use you in one of his political games. After Grandpa Viper's funeral, everyone knows you are with Brig."

Jake nods and takes another bite of his sandwich. It doesn't taste like anything. After Maki, all the food tasted like ash, so this is an improvement. He supposes. How long will it take for the nightmares to return?

Bradley brings him out of his thoughts.

"Listen..." -he looks at him unsure- "When we get to San Diego..."

"Yes, of course, of course. I know that you and Dad need time with the family. I'll go with Brig, don't worry. You call me when..."

"You are an idiot!" -his brother hisses, clearly annoyed, but without raising his voice so as not to wake his father- "I was going to say that when we get to San Diego, you need to explain to Brig that he can't come home with us. The things we have to discuss..." -he looks embarrassed again- "I know he's taken care of you all these years, Jake, and I really appreciate it. But whatever's going on with Rachel Seresin put Iná, Icepop, and Mavdad on edge all these years. I don't think they're willing to talk to Brig there."

Jake blinks in surprise. His brother wants... It's absurd. His father almost died. Surely, letting him recover before forcing him to talk is only fair. When Maki, he couldn't bear to lose Brig from sight. He can bet the COMPACFLT has already invented an excuse to have a vacation.

"But Kazansky..."

"And again with Icepop!" -he snorts.

Bradley knows his brother has been through a lot. That reconciliation is something new, and he is still getting used to the idea that he can come home, but he's had a long day. Too long. He can't help but let some frustration leak in his face and voice.

"It took a suicide mission to make you see reason, but our parents have waited for you to knock on the door every day since you left. Iná cleans your room every two weeks. She managed to get your new clothing sizes every year, and all the clothes in the closet fit you. Do you have any idea what it's been like to see her donate ten entire closets of unused clothes and shoes? Icepop hung photos of all the important events in your career on our walls. He asks Brig what you are reading so he can read it, too. They're waiting for you, Jake. Don't make them suffer anymore, please. Come home with me when we disembark, okay?"

He thought about it a little. The truth is that yes, I wanted to know the truth as soon as possible and, if I had the opportunity to be alone with Kazansky, ask him about his astral visit.

"Okay," he agreed. I'll go home with you and Dad when we arrive in San Diego.

 

University City, San Diego, Friday, November 15, 2019

 

When Bradley turns off the bronco's engine, Jake sits still in the passenger seat, staring at his hands. This is it, the moment of truth. It was easy to forget about the rest of the world during the three days they spent on the ship caring for their father as they returned to California. Now, the bronco is parked next to his childhood home, and Jake can't...

"Are we there yet?"

Maverick's voice is thick with sleep. He was held in the ship's medical area for forty-eight hours and is up to his eyeballs on painkillers. Usually, he would have reduced the doses at home and compensated with long sessions in the hot bathtub watching Val Kilmer films. But on the USS Roosevelt, there were no bathtubs or a movie collection, so he had to swallow the damn pills and accept the drowsiness, the difficulty concentrating.

He remembers Brad and Jake helping him into the back of the bronco after saying goodbye to the rest of the Daggers. He snuggled into the cushions and let the engine's purr lull him to sleep. Now everything is still.

"Yes, we're here, Mavdad," says his eldest as he opens the truck door.

Bradley extends an arm to help him out. Sam appears out of nowhere and kisses him on the cheek.

"Lean on me, Mavdad," she says.

With one person on each side, it is not that difficult to climb the steps of the house.

"Jake, get the backpacks," Bradley orders over his shoulder.

"Already on it."

Since Maverick can't see them, Sean harshly pushes Jake away and takes his brother and father's bags.

"And what are you doing here?" -spits.

Jake freezes again, caught off guard by Sean's hostility. It is difficult to reconcile the image of this man with the boy he left behind. His sunkaku often looked at him with admiration or complicity. Second Lieutenant Sean "Knife" Kazansky only shows him with contempt and hostility. He's sure Bradley and his father didn't count on this.

Before he can open his mouth to apologize and disappear, a body steps between them. Jake feels like the world disappears as soon as his Iná hugs him.

"Jake! You're back! My čhiŋkší! Finally!"

She pulls away so she can take his face in her hands. He kisses her cheeks.

"Bradley told me you'd come, of course, but I was afraid you'd change your mind." -her smile falters at the son's silence- "No... you haven't changed your mind, have you?"

Jake looks between his mother and Sean. Doubtful. Can he do it?

"Hey, cekpápi!" -Sam is near the doorway, arms crossed over her chest and with an impatient expression- "How long does it take you to grab a bag? Came on, it's cold out here."

Bradley and his father are already inside the house. He shouldn't leave now, right? Not without saying goodbye. But Sean is still throwing daggers through his eyes over their mom's head, and... since when are the two of them taller than Sarah?

Then he sees him. Iceman is half-hidden by one of the portal columns. He wears a sea-green sports outfit and glasses. It is impossible to ignore his wet eyes. He's looking at him with a frankly heartbreaking mix of joy and fear. Jake had never seen him like this, so vulnerable.

He remembers what Brig and Bradley told him: the man stopped sleeping and eating when he left.

He remembers the face on the ceiling of his room in Moapa Valley.

He remembers the mirage on the USS Roosevelt.

He kisses his mother on the forehead.

"Of course I haven't changed my mind, Iná," he assures her while he adjusts his backpack on one shoulder and hugs her with his other arm. "Come on, my cekpápi is right, it's cold."

Sarah doesn't let him go as they walk up the stairs.

Behind them, they hear Sean mumbling about undeserved rewards, but they ignore him.

His room is, as Bradley said, ready to be used. Honestly, it's a little strange to see his high school trophies still shiny. But next to his childhood and adolescence memories are markers of these eleven years. The bed is new, bigger, big enough for two adults. Also, there are posters of his favorite films, new titles on the bookshelf, and even a couple of collectible DC action figures -he has hated Marvel since Tom Holland played his father.

"We made some changes. After your sunkaku ... That doesn't matter! The point is that now you can go to the bathroom directly, see?" -she opens a door barely visible in the background- "It's shared between you and Sean. Bradley and Sam share another bathroom. It's better this way. No one has to go out into the hallway at night.

There's a story there, he realizes. Something bittersweet and potentially embarrassing about Sean. He has lost more than a decade of joy and ridiculousness. Will he ever catch up?

"Anyway," she sighs, "I guess... do you want to have lunch? Although it's too late for that. Better a light snack, yes? Or do you prefer to shower and rest a little?"

Iná bites her lips and wrings her hands nervously. He can't stop looking at him with some anxiety, as if she were afraid that at any moment he would run away. He knows he has to calm her.

"A shower sounds good. And then... Will Mavdad sleep a lot?"

"Oh, Mav? Yes, probably until tomorrow. After ejecting, he always needs," -she makes a vague gesture with her hand- "you know." -she cuts herself off abruptly, wrinkles her face when she realizes her mistake- "No, You don't know."

It's like a dam burst. Sarah falls onto Jake's bed and starts to cry uncontrollably. On the periphery of her perception she feels that the mattress is sinking for another body. She doesn't react until she feels an arm over her shoulders, pulling her toward a muscular torso.

"It's okay, Iná, it's alright. Let it go."

"Please stay, Jake." Now that they're alone, she doesn't care if she sounds like a supplicant. "We wouldn't stand it if you left again. He couldn't stand it" -she can't even imagine what will happen to Tom if this goes wrong.

"Of course I'll stay here. Don't be afraid. Don't cry anymore, please, okay?"

Sarah pulls away, wipes her tears with the back of her hand, and lifts her face to face him.

"Promise."

"I promise." -and the speed of his replies convinces her more than the word- "The Navy has given me eight weeks off." -Jake smiles tenderly, it's almost like having her seventeen-year-old boy back- "I'll just go wherever you want."

She allows herself a weak smile and nods, then takes a deep breath.

"Very good. Then take a shower and come down when you're ready, okay?" -she takes a tissue from the box on the nightstand- "I'm going to go downstairs and cook something because Bradley always comes back terribly hungry. What do they feed you on those boats?"

Jake opens his mouth to reply, but she pays him no attention. He realizes that it is some recurring thing that has to do with being a mother. His Iná keeps talking.

"A bunch of millions in budget and they can't feed my children correctly? I've told Tom this a million times, but he says it's Bradley." -she snorts- "The nerve! To blame Bradley. Surely you will also realize that you are starving after you rest, my love."

Jake watches her leave and close the door softly with a goofy smile.

Across the corridor, Admiral Kazansky has lost all of his famous calm upon seeing his husband's physical condition. Mav's entire torso —chest and back, even parts of his pelvis— is the cardinal red color of healing bruises. He can't say anything because what is he going to say? "Should you have let the SIMs take down our son?" It's stupid. He would have done the same. What hurts him is that no one informed him of these injuries or the recovery plan. These are the problems of having a secret relationship. In some ways, it's like they never left DADT behind.

"Hey!" -Pete takes his hand very gently- "It's okay."

"I know."

He watches the hot water fill the bathtub because he doesn't know how to look at his husband without the million feelings swirling inside him overflowing."

"Just... are you going to accept the promotion now? I don't want to..." -he stops and swallows dryly; he can't play hide and seek with this- "I can't stand the idea of you going around risking your life anymore. It's enough with the children. Please accept the promotion. You have the Mustang, right? And if you find that you miss the F-18s too much, you can change the rules to continue flying them as an instructor. But please, Mav."

"Mmm"

Mav takes a bottle of bath foam and slowly drops some into the water.

 The scent of lavender surrounds them.

"Goose got us out of there, you know?" -Tom nods.

When Ray told him they would play head-to-head with death, he imagined something like that.

"And in the end, he became visible to Bradley. So… That's enough water."

Tom turns off the water, helps his husband to finish undressing and get into the bathtub. Pete groans several times during the operation, but lets out a contented sigh when he is finally submerged up to his neck in hot water. He places a hand on the edge, which Tom immediately shakes.

"Look, I don't know if, after listening to the Tomcat's black box, they'll want to make me a rear admiral or discharge me for medical reasons. Same with Bradley."

"We'll deal with that."

"But I was thinking about it before, you know? I'm almost fifty-eight and I want..." -What does he want? He's unsure, but he knows what he DOESN'T want anymore- "I'm tired, Ice. Tired of the pettiness of people like Cain, Benjamin, even Simpson. Tired of lying about my feelings. Tired of the pitiful looks people give me when they think I'm not looking, "poor Captain Mitchell, widowed for twenty years," "that crazy Mitchell, it's a mystery why Kazansky puts up with him." All that. You promised me once, long ago, that you would pamper and indulge me. Wanna…"

"You want to get married," Tom understands in shock.

He falls on the bathroom floor in surprise. Pete's green eyes are wide with panic.

"What? No! You think I'm crazy? Of course we can't get married! It would be the end of your career." -his voice goes up a couple of octaves because of how desperate he is- "It's not you, it's me. I want to retire and sleep in the morning and..." -he looks at him doubtful. He really has no idea what he would do if he retires- "To finish rebuilding the Mustang? Help Penny at the bar?"

But Tom snorts in disbelief. Pete working at Penny's bar? Ha! His husband was made to fly. And the Mustang will not satisfy him for long, two or three years maximum, he estimates.

"Twenty-twenty-one."

Now Pete looks at him bewildered.

"Twenty-twenty-one?" -Pete repeats.

"Yes, we will get married on March 20, 2021.

"

His husband's expression goes from confusion to amusement in a second.

"No."

"No? We have been engaged since October 2011. You already said yes."

"Because March is a terrible month to get married in this city, Ice! It's cold, it could rain. We will be married in June," his eyes take on a calculating gleam, "after President McCord confirms you as Secretary of the Navy."

"Mav, you don't know if..."

"Come on Ice, why do you think Henry McCord casually asked you" -and his tone drips sarcasm- "during Viper's funeral if you were considering retiring? Not even the drama between Sean and Jake changed his mind. They want you for the second term of the presidency. They would have to be crazy not to love you after this Mission."

Yes, what they did with Sakha-Yakutia was huge. He can't argue with that. He leans in to kiss him.

"Okay, we're getting married in June. But will you accept the promotion if they offered to you?"

"Rear Admiral Mitchell." -he says slowly, savoring the words- "Yes, it sounds good. And you said I'll be able to keep flying?"

"You can write the rules, Mav."

"Mmm," -he purrs - "I'll think about it. Meanwhile, don't you have a marriage to dissolve?"

"Right!"

Tom gives him another light kiss, stands up, and runs downstairs.

"Sarah!" -she stops cutting vegetables and looks at him, surprised- "Where do we download those divorce forms? We will sign them today."

His wife's smile is like the sun.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

She drops the knife and runs into his arms. Tom picks her up and they turn around a couple of times. They feel as light as teenagers.

"Finally!" -Sarah kisses him hard- "Finally. Thank you, good Lord! I thought I would be a grandmother before I saw this!"

"Can someone tell me what is happening?"

They turn to Sam, looking at them confused from the dining room table with a half-peeled ear of corn in her hands. Sarah turns to face their daughter without leaving the circle of Tom's arms.

"Your father and I are getting divorced."

Sam's puzzled face grows more intense. People are not supposed to celebrate their divorce with shared enthusiasm. Especially because she knows that Iná and Icepop love each other.

"Okay…?"

"And I'm going to marry Mav," Tom completes, smiling and proud.

It takes Sam a few seconds to process the information. She knows that they kept their relationship a secret even after the repeal of DADT to protect Icepop's military career. It's one of those shitty things that she resigned himself to living with and now it's a little hard to get used to the idea that...

"Wow!"

She gets up to hug them. It seems that this Super Secret and Stressful Mission that Mavdad and her brothers were on really shook them up, huh?

"You will finally make an honest man from Mavdad?" -she asks her father, smiling.

He nods. Her mother looks at her, complicit.

"Do you know what this means?"

Suddenly the enormity of the event hits her.

"We have to plan a wedding!" -she turns to her father- "Tell me that at least you have a date."

"June of the twenty-first."

"What? No!" -she looks at her mother, who leaves her father's embrace with a similar worried expression and heads to the kitchen counter.

"What's happening?" -Ice moves his eyes from his wife to his daughter, lost.

Sarah does some quick calculations on the notepad they always have there to leave messages.

"It's not enough time."

"Not enought time? It's almost eighteen months Sarah."

"And I think Patrick Benjamin also wants to get married here in June." -Sam suddenly remembers- "I heard it at Grandpa Viper's funeral."

Now Sarah goes from worry to fury.

"Admiral Benjamin will not beat us in this! What do you think, August?"

"Well..." -but she makes an imperious gesture to Ice to silence him and looks expectantly at her daughter.

Sam taps her chin a couple of times.

"It could be... I mean. The chances of rain are the lowest of the year, and the temperature is only slightly higher than in June."

"Damn climate change," Sarah growls, making a couple more notes.

"Also, in August there is no football or baseball. Ooh! When is the next mayoral election?"

"Fall 2020," Ice answers automatically.

Both women look at him, surprised: they had forgotten about him.

"It's decided," Sarah concludes. "You're getting married in August 2021. Go up and tell Pete," she orders.

"Wait a minute! It's my wedding."

"And we are going to plan it." -replies his wife- "Now be a good boy and go take care of Mav, okay? Sam, honey, go get your laptop and start looking for venues. You know what..." -she looks at him annoyed- "What are you doing there like a fool? Mav could fall asleep and drown in the bathtub. Go!"

Part of being a military genius is recognizing which battles you can win: Admiral Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Commander of the US Pacific Fleet, turns around and obeys his wife's orders.

Of course, not all the reunions are so cute. When Jake returns to his room after a long, satisfying shower, he finds Sean sitting on his bed with his arms crossed over his chest and a hostile expression.

"I still think you have nothing to do here, but..." -he deflates a little- "Bradley told me I should talk to you."

Jake climbs into his bed, rests his back against the headboard, and puts a pillow on his lap.

"What does Brad think we should talk about? You made your opinion clear at Grandpa Viper's funeral."

Sean curls his lips and looks at the floor.

"Apparently, it is unreasonable for me to hold a grudge against you without hearing your side of the story. Let's be clear, you never tried to tell me what happened!" -snorts- "So here I am."

But his body remains stiff, and his gaze fixed on the "Hidden Figures” poster.

Jake takes a deep breath.

"I don't have anything to tell you." -Sean turns to look at him so quickly that his neck is shaking- "My so-called reasons don't justify how I hurt you, the damage I did to our family. Bradley sent you to give me a chance to apologize. I am sorry for abandoning you, Sean. Forgive me for not being the c'iyé you needed. When Dad told me that he was Ice's partner, I... I felt like your father had stolen him from me. I couldn't... I couldn't process it. Kazansky had stolen my father from me, my chance at happiness. So I disguised my pain and fear with pride and stubbornness. After a while I didn't know how to get back home, I was afraid that you guys wouldn't want me back, so I never came back. I was trapped in a sick cycle that neither Brad nor Brig could get me out of.

"Stolen?" -Sean repeats slowly.

The word seems so unusual, so absurd, that it forces him to pay attention. That wasn't his plan. He planned to let Jake's speech roll off him like rain and walk away. Because there was no way Jake could justify these eleven years of pain. Right?

He wrinkles his forehead, confused.

"But... You mean that you were in love with Mavdad?"

Jake's face of horror and disgust is enough for him to understand that he misunderstood.

"Then what was it?"

Jake squeezes the pillow between his fingers and shakes his head softly.

"It doesn't really make sense. I wanted to be normal. I was desperate for the idea, and discovering that Dad was bisexual threw me head-first into the abyss. I was seventeen years old, so I needed someone to blame. I was convinced that your father was stopping him from remarrying and giving me a mother.

Sean shakes his head. None of this makes sense.

"You have a mother. My mom is your mom." -but as soon as he says it, he doubts- "Or not?"

Jake gives him a sad smile.

"Inside this house? Yes. In our hearts? Definitely. But out there?" -he points his hand toward the window- "No. The rest of the world never let me forget that I was a Mitchell, Brad was a Bradshaw, and you two were Kazansky. Although Dad, Iná, and Ice tried to protect me, I was painfully aware that the only one with a missing mother was me. Don't try to understand it, Sean. I just wanted what you had, and in my mind, Iceman was in the way."

"That's so fucked!" -he scratches the back of his neck, confused- "I thought you had been in therapy for like a gazillion of years? How did you have such a messed up head?"

Jake looks at him with guilty eyes for a moment before looking away and shrugging.

"I saw too many Disney films."

Yeah, Sean remembers that his brother enjoyed singing "Just Around the Riverbend" and "A Girl Worth Fighting For" a little too much at karaoke afternoons. As a kid, he just liked his c'iyé Jake to spend time with him. Now, he realizes that thirteen-year-olds typically prefer to hang out with other people their age, not stay home with their little brothers. It is also clear that it is an excuse.

"Okay," he nods, "but I still don't know why you're here. Do you think you pretend nothing happened?"

Jake smacks his lips.

"When I left, you were a boy, Sean; now you are a man. I think the ship of ignoring my time away sailed a long, long time ago."

Sean nods because it's true: they can't turn back time or recover those years' easy confidence. Jake had been his idol, his support, now... they are not strangers, but they will certainly have to rebuild their relationship.

He starts talking without looking at his face.

"About two weeks after you left, it was still August, but before Sam left for Oglala College, we went to the Barona Reservation with Iná, and we didn't know how to explain your absence to the people there. Iná had a fit in the middle of the harvest ceremony. Sam had to drive back home. She called you while she was crying and I... I felt so helpless and so angry. I keep wondering why she was calling you. Wasn't I a good son too? Mom and the dads never explained... I mean, they did explain, but it was a shitty explanation: Rachel's identity is a national security secret. I was like, really? Of course he fuck off away from here."

Jake lets out a bitter laugh.

"Ah! I wasn't the only one."

Sean has to admit that, on that part, he was always on his brother's side.

"No, you weren't the only one. Sam too. She has a theory that Rachel was an Al-Qaeda operative and is in Guantanamo or another prison that doesn't exist."

Jake whistles, clearly impressed.

"Unfortunately, I fear the truth is much less epic."

Sean raises an eyebrow, questioning.

"In my experience, people who hide their personal relationships do so for banal, almost pathetic reasons: money, appearances. I know that Rachel is a citizen of the Oglala tribe and that her brother is a very important man there. It could be that this is all about racism: she's somewhere passing for white, and that's it."

Sean grimaces at the thought. He knows that “passing” is the goal of many people of color alienated by racism, but the idea that his c'iyé's mother is like that gives him an almost visceral rejection. He can also understand his brother's bitterness: eleven years of searching and nothing.

Shit! It turns out Bradley was right.

"I understand that you want to know who your mother is, but that doesn't mean I forgive you. You hurt us deeply, do you know? This family almost went to shit after you fled."

"I understand." -Jake nods, and his look seems sincere- "I don't think I deserve your forgiveness. I just want you to allow me to be your brother again."

"Okay." -he offers his right hand- "I need help to glare the guys who look at Sam too much at social events."

Jake shakes his hand and Sean is surprised to feel calluses on his palm. The last time they did this…did they ever shake hands? It doesn't seem like it. They were never shy about physical contact in their family, but not like that. Shaking hands is something formal, done with strangers. He and his brother used to hug each other, bump fists when things went well, and touch any part of their bodies when they were close. He remembers Jake kissing him on the head when he was a child.

He notices that his brother is looking at him with a bit of fear.

"What?"

"Can..?" -he runs his tongue over his lips- "Can I hug you?"

Can they?

"Not yet." -he tries hard to ignore the fact that Jake hardly seems disappointed- "Tomorrow after we find out who Rachel Seresin is. If you still want to stay."

"Ah." - it seems his brother had suddenly understood something - "Yes, of course, tomorrow."

He decides that was enough healing for one day and gets up.

"Are you coming down for dinner? The first night we return from deployment, Iná always makes a dense, slightly salty stew that fills you up and puts you to sleep like a baby. Keeps nightmares at bay for a day or two."

He notices how the mention of nightmares catches his brother's attention. His expression of discomfort, because he was looking for a way to excuse himself that didn't sound rude, changes to one of curious desire. He can understand it: he hasn't killed anyone, but his own missions have an insidious way of sneaking into his dreams. Jake just scored his second aerial kill, saving the lives of Mavdad and Bradley. What does he see when he closes his eyes?

"That sounds really good." -Jake finally says- "I'll get dressed and go downstairs."

"Well, I'm going to wash," he says by way of farewell.

He gets up to go out into the hallway but remembers that there is a more efficient way and heads to the bathroom door.

He goes into his bathroom (except it's not just his bathroom anymore), pisses, and while washing his hands sees through the mirror the new towel hanging on the dryer. There is no other trace of Jake's presence. There's no need. Since November 2008, Iná decided to process her pain through denial. Jake would return, and the house would be ready.

For eleven years, the specter of Jake Mitchell has stalked him in every corner of the house. As if it were Peter Pan: the body flew away so fast that it left its shadow behind. Only this shadow could not follow its owner. Because Iná, Icepop, and Mavdad fed and cared for that shadow, convinced that their third child was always about to arrive. He's used to seeing body wash, shampoo, and conditioner in the shower that doesn't belong to him. Behind the mirror is an extra bottle of shaving cream and a toothbrush in its envelope, with "BB3" written in Sharpie.

In his years of Academy and service, Sean heard how his brother became Hangman, and he no longer wanted, he became unable, to reconcile the memory of his c'iyé with that arrogant and lonely pilot. So he went from searching for any information, no matter how minimal, to wishing with all his soul that the family would (please) stop talking about Jake.

He sees the hanging towel and understands it is no longer a shadow, the suppurating wound of his Iná. BB3 has returned. The shadow jumps from the wall, acquires density and texture, and speaks to him.

He asks for a second chance.

What is he supposed to feel now?

Nothing.

It's better not to feel anything.

After all, Jake only came because Mavdad promised to reveal Rachel's identity to him. He may leave again tomorrow.

With any luck, he will take his shadow with him

 this time.

Bradley is in the living room when he comes down, chatting with Blue on a video call.

"Tell them I said hello." -and goes to the kitchen to see how he can help.

But his brother pauses the conversation, stands up, and touches his arm to stop him.

"How was it?"

Sean grunts and glances toward the kitchen, uneasy. He doesn't want to have this conversation where their mother can interrupt at any moment.

"It's a work in progress," he admits grudgingly.

Bradley smiles.

"Thank you."

"Thank you?"

"Yeah, thanks. The family won't heal if each one of us doesn't do their part."

"Whatever!" -he grumbles- "Being the older brother has gone into your head. Now I have to go help Iná."

He suspects his mother will throw a banquet to celebrate the prodigal son's return.

In the end, dinner is not so extravagant. Sarah didn't prepare anything beforehand, afraid Jake would regret it and leave for Miramar Base with Brig. Also, Maverick can't get down. He's still sore from his injuries and disoriented from the medications. It won't be until tomorrow that the side effects wear off and he can leave the room.

Anyway, dinner is a success: Sarah and Tom continually smile at each other from one end of the table to the other. Sam looks at them with a proud and happy expression. Their three children look at them curious and a little worried. Sean quickly forgets his resentment towards Jake and Jake forgets his grudge against Bradley. They share the intrigue about what has the other half of the table so happy, and without much thought, they regain their rhythm: they begin to communicate through eyebrow movements, shoulder shrugs, and brief facial gestures. It's beautiful to see.

But no, they won't say anything. It will be fair to announce it tomorrow, with Mav present.

Sam shows his poise and keeps the conversation topics away from their parents. She focuses on her cekpápi. She tells him about herself and casually asks about his friends and experiences. She never shows that a name or affiliation is new to her. She acts, in fact, as if they haven't seen each other for a few months and need to catch up.

As far as Samantha Kazansky is concerned, her brother never left home.

"Oh, yeah," she says when Jake mentions training in the China Sea, "Sean was there right before it was his turn for Top Gun."

"It wasn't my turn," he interrupts, unable to contain his annoyance, "I earned it."

Sam rolls her eyes.

"Just because you repeat it doesn't make it true. If it is an improvement school, everyone should go."

"That's where you're wrong." -Sean cuts her off, raising his fork like a pointer- "It's a center of excellence, which means only the best of the best in the Navy attend. Back me up here, Jake."

The third son is stunned to see himself addressed in such a direct way. Sean's eyes widen as he realizes what he's done. Luckily, there's no better way to get the famous Hangman talking than to question his status among the aviation elite.

"Of course not everyone goes to Top Gun, or, as we must call it now, NAWDC. From the beginning, the idea was to train personnel selected for their talent to assimilate the most advanced knowledge they would later use in their squads. Being ordered to report to NAWDC is a special recognition."

"Sure." -Sam raises a challenging eyebrow- "Can you explain to me, then, why the five men from this family have gone there. It's a statistical impossibility!"

"Of course not!" -Jake's tone is blasé- "You were born into an exceptional family, little sister. We are thoroughbred aviators. Even Brad, who made a detour through Virginia to meet the love of his life. Between the living and the dead of this house we add almost a third of the best aviators in the history of the Navy." -he shrugs with a sly expression- "They had no choice but to recognize our talent."

Sean and Bradley nod vigorously. Sam seems unable to decide between laughing or throwing a glass of water at them.

"I can't believe it. The three are identical." -she turns to their father- "This is your fault and Mavdad's," -she accuses, pointing with her index finger.

Tom feigns offense.

"Why is it always our fault when your brothers win an argument and not your mother's?"

"Because they learned all that aeronautical chauvinism from you two. Iná is a midwife and mom Carole was a nurse, of course you can't blame them for," - she gestures vaguely to her three brothers - "this trio of adrenaline junkies who could make love to a jet."

"Wait a minute!" -Bradley complains.

"Addicts?" -Jake raises his eyebrows.

"Make love to a jet?" -says Sean.

"Oh! Haven't you seen how Mavdad talks about his P-51? Anyone would think it's a steel woman and not a pile of scrap metal."

"Does Dad have a P-51?" -Jake asks surprised. Oh! So, he put the hangar to use.

Sean rolls his eyes.

"If you are going to stay, I warn you that this is the real competition. The time and money he gives to that thing is absurd. We have been displaced by a new baby."

"It's not a piece of junk, and he doesn't love it more than you." -Tom intervenes.

Now it's Sarah who can't contain a disbelieving groan.

"Mitawin, please." -he says disapprovingly to his wife- "Yes, Mav bought a P-51 Mustang to rebuild it. I gave him the hangar. He had to put something in it, right?"

"Honestly, Icepop, I always thought the hangar was like a country house, a secluded place where you two will go to walk around naked."

Sean looks at his older brother in disgust.

"Don't talk about the two of them having sex! You are going to make fear sex from trauma."

"You're straight! I thought those things didn't affect you people?"

"Hey!" -Sarah cuts- "In this house, we do not shame anyone for their sexual orientation or gender identity."

"Thank you Iná."

She winks at him.

"Only two straight persons in the family must keep a united front."

Sean nods and looks back at his sister.

"As we were saying, it is proven that training at the NAWDC must be earned."

Sam looks at him with tight lips and amused eyes.

"You know what, super aviator? I'm sick of all this testosterone. Show all your exquisite training by teaching this one," -she points to Jake- "how to load the dishwasher. -she leaves the napkin on the table and gets up- I'm going to see Milles Teller shaking his ass in Footloose, to the delight of my bisexual heart.

As she turns, she winks knowingly at her father, who returns a proud smile.

 

STORY INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html