#itslong

To the early birds that are stalking this story, thank you!! Hope you enjoy this one too! (@rossy1080, @julia-2904, @multifandom-fangirl4 & @maverooster, lookin' at you!)

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Swearing.

It took you a few moments to catch your breath and recalibrate. These Navy boys were like nothing you had encountered in your service. You shook your head and walked inside, looking at your watch, avoiding eye-contact to anyone that may have seen the full encounter between you and Hangman.

He gave you a wide berth to keep up the charade, but you noticed his eyes on you everytime he glanced your way. You made your way over to Penny at the bar and sidled up next to Phoenix, hoping to avoid everyone else.

"Thanks for not being a dick in the sky," you said, smiling at your beer. She let out a hearty laugh and clapped your shoulder in a half-hug. You were grateful she understood your predicament-not quite part of the team, not quite an officer, not quite in or out.

"Us ladies have to stick together- at least we use the right head when we fly!" she yelled over at the crew at the pool tables and they booed her and/or flipped the two of you off. You smiled again as you saw Penny give you a nod in solidarity.

After a few drinks, Phoenix had convinced you to go up and try some karaoke. You couldn't sing to save your life, but you decided to dance with her (and a variety of other navy pilots, as the bar was packed) on the dancefloor. Your heart beat fast in your chest as you both screamed lyrics far too loud and broke into peals of laughter.

It was almost as if everything had gone into slow motion. You looked up and saw Hangman watching you amusedly from the other side of the bar. You shot him a smile and then your eyes focused in on Rooster who was standing about 10 feet in front of him. You continued the smile and then you saw that he was standing with your bag. Your dancing slowed (much to Phoenix's disappointment).

'Water,' you mouthed at her and she nodded. You bee-lined for Rooster, trying to look relaxed. "What's up, Roost?" you popped your hip into him, earning a slight chuckle but not his gaze anymore. Something was on his mind. You followed his eyeline down to your bag, Hangman's shirt sitting on top.

Your brain panicked. Rooster could misconstrue everything and get you in more trouble. He could tell Simpson and Bates. He could get Hangman kicked off the squad. You saw every bad decision play out in the split-second that you watched him. He looked up at you, confused.

"Do you often carry around your dirty laundry?" he asked, a slight twinge of teasing in his voice. You let out a relieved sigh and shook your head.

"Government issue, they owe me a new size. I don't want to miss out when they give me the miniscule window to swap it. You know how it is..." your voice trailed off, almost believing your white lie. Rooster laughed now and put an arm around your shoulders.

"Definitely not surprised at all there!" he laughed and then leaned in close to you, "Do you want to tell me why Hangman's eyes haven't left your ass since you walked back in?"

You shrugged. "Ask him. I have a feeling he's plotting my untimely demise," Rooster studied your face, looking for a hint of anything, "He doesn't get in trouble for the shit he pulls. This stunt today was too much. He'll get over it," you waved a hand and brushed Rooster's concerns away. He nodded and you realized again, too late, how close he was.

You stepped out from under his arm. "Normally, I'd say you have to buy me a drink to get any more out of me, but I'm gonna head back and get some sleep," Rooster nodded, fumbling with the bottle between his hands and picking at the label, "I slept like shit last night," you laughed and looked Hangman dead in the eye.

The look that crossed Hangman's face was a look of feigned shock and the acceptance of a challenge. You had thrown Rooster off the scent, but only minimally, but you knew you were the one that had to do it-Hangman’s ego would tell everyone. "Night Rooster, Night guys!" you yelled, waves matching yours as you headed out to your car. With your bag in the front seat, you glanced over and saw Jake's shirt on the top and smiled.

--------

You showed up at normal time, anticipating a briefing. When you walked into the hangar and saw no-one, you started checking emails and schedules. You were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. You looked up to find Adm. Simpson walking out towards you. You stood up and straightened your posture.

"Any idea where they are?" he said, clearly annoyed to be dragged out of his office to hunt down Maverick and the band of misfits. You shook your head.

"No idea, sir. I didn't receive any briefing update or communication about changing locations," you looked behind you, "at least all the planes are here, so we know they're not airborne."

Simpson let out a small "ah, yes" and you were disappointed to have wasted the realization on him. You looked past Simpson and saw, stuck to the corkboard above your desk, a sticky note in Maverick's handwriting.

Beach

You smiled and immediately wiped it from your face. "Sir, I know where they may be. I'll investigate and report back." He nodded and waved you off with a half-assed salute, walking back inside, cursing almost every step. As soon as his footsteps were gone, you ran to the car, heading for the beach near The Hard Deck.

------

You were not ready. You saw some sort of football-ish game being played in the surf by everyone in the squad. As you noticed no one in uniform (in fact, most were barely in shorts), you were thankful that you now were carrying civilian clothes around with you. You grabbed the bag and headed up to the deck, seeing Penny seated at a table with some paperwork.

You motioned inside with your bag and she nodded. You ran in and changed- a pair of jean shorts that were just a bit shorter than you would normally wear and a white tank-top, a black bikini underneath it all. Simple and understated.

You walked out onto the deck, bag in hand and smiled at Penny. "Thanks so much for the changing rooms," you laughed and she smiled and let out a laugh. You put the bag down and straddled the seat across from her, looking towards the game that was still happening.

"How long's this been going on?" you asked, trying to identify everyone from the table.

"About 15 minutes," Penny responded and you realized the papers in front of her sat blank. She had also been watching the entertainment for 15 minutes. You laughed to yourself.

"Any idea of the rules?"

"Nope."

"Any idea of what Mav's trying to do?

"Nope."

"Any idea who's winning?"

"Us."

You both broke into loud laughs and continued watching, eventually deciding to get a closer look when you spotted some nearby beach chairs. Getting closer to the action was everything it was cracked up to be. Everyone playing looked like they had been oiled up in baby oil before playing.

You had spotted Jake almost 20 minutes earlier, but you couldn't take your eyes off of him (except for a short glance at Rooster, whose body moved in a way that made you imagine a few other things he'd be good at). It took Hangman a while to notice you, but when he did, he immediately regretted not looking up sooner.

You and Penny were chatting with each other and laughing, the sun illuminating you more than you realized. He froze, ball and hand, and got the shit knocked out of him by bullet-train Coyote who was determined to take Hangman down at the knees. Hondo blew his whistle, shrugging at Hangman and yelling "reset!" Rooster walked past Hangman and slapped his shoulder.

"Eye on the ball, bagman," he winked and wandered over to his side. Hangman caught your eye and mouthed 'wow' to you and you felt a slight blush as you continued to talk with Penny. The two of you were each staring at your respective pilot, fully unaware that neither of you were really partaking in a real conversation.

------

Eventually, Maverick had had enough. He sat in a beach chair near Penny, grateful for the water bottle she had brought for him. It was then that you saw Adm. Simpson stalk down the beach, his dress uniform standing out awkwardly against the sea of skin in front of you. 'Shit," you thought, "definitely did NOT update him on the location..." Maverick spotted the guilty look on your face and said "go play. NOW."

Your feet obeyed faster than you realized. Hondo smiled at you. "Any idea of the rules, Razor?" You looked around and laughed.

"Not a damn clue, Hondo. Let's go!"

You vaguely figured out the game was basically keep away but were not the most skilled at anything that game was trying to do. At one point, Yale had hoisted you up to intercept an overthrown catch and you managed to snag it with ease, but as soon as you hit the ground Phoenix was all over you, knocking you down before your feet were down. You both laughed and she helped you up, resetting for the next play.

A few minutes later, you were able to set up facing Jake. He gave you a flirty wink and you gave him a smirk, running your thumb across your neck. He laughed and pretended to be afraid, quickly settling in as Hondo blew the whistle again. You ran dead at Jake, turning back only to see Fanboy lock on his target and let a spiral go. You jumped half a second before Jake realized what you were doing. He reacted late and watched as you intercepted the throw meant for him.

You heard Fanboy yell at him as you landed awkwardly in the sand and went to run for a point, when Jake grabbed you around the waist. You took a second to realize that he had scooped you off the ground and was running towards the water.

"DON'T YOU DARE, HANGMAN!"

"Sorry Air Force!" he laughed as everyone joined in to see what was happening, "Here in the Navy, we don't mind the water!" With that he tossed you into the water, everyone laughing and high-fiving, the exhaustion of their game finally settling in. Hangman was not planning on you coming out of the water and jumping up onto his back, pulling you both into the water, laughing.

"We Air Force like an aerial attack," you laughed, walking out of the water with Hangman's arm wrapped around your shoulders.

(Author's note: If you're hoping for this to lean more Hangman, please drop a comment and let me know! I'm too indecisive to pick…..)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Me: LOL

Friend: Yeah right, what a bitch.

Me: Exactly! I knowwww bitch!

Friend: I can do like anything for my boyfriend, I love him so much. I cuddle up with him like pretty much every day.

Me: Damn bitch! ME TOO!

Friend: (Dumps boyfriend)

Me: (Dumps boyfriend)

Friend: Hey! What's wrong with you??

Me: What?

Friend: Why are you putting your teddy in the trash?

I have a big history with mental illness.

My mother was diagnosed with Bi-Polar Disorder when I was 2 years old. 

This not only drove my father to leave when I was 5, but also left me neglected and alone to fend for myself.

This illness tore my family apart and took my childhood away from me.

When I was 14 my mother decided that she didn’t want to be the only “sick” one in the family so she took me to a doctor and told endless lies about the irrational behaviors I’ve been portraying and all the drastic poor decisions I’ve been making; none of which were true.

They put me on countless medications. Multiple pills under the same category.

I was on at least 3 anti-depressants, 2 mood stabilizers, 1 anti-psychotic, 2 sedatives for sleep, and 1 ADD prescription for 5 years all extremely high dosages. 

They toyed around with the different medications for years. Giving me medication (not to mention way too much seriously counteracting medications) that I did not need created a problem in me that wasn’t previously existing.

My mother had created an illness inside me. Suddenly, with all the different unnecessary medications, I became the illness they were “fixing”. 

My sleep pattern was skewed tremendously. Sleeping pills so heavy that I couldn’t wake up in the morning and then heavy stimulants to wake me up. 

Doctor’s appointments multiple times a week, my mother suddenly had an excuse to keep me home. 

“you’re sick Liberty. You need to stay home.” (but of course she couldn’t be bothered to spend any actual time with me. 

Constantly being on an artificially created emotional roller coaster was toxic. I wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t eating. I wasn’t showering. I wasn’t talking.

I tried to protest. I tried to tell the doctors but no one believes the 14 year old girl who grew up without a father. Daddy issues are a shoe-in and psychs love to make their money. The more problems you have, the bigger the check they reel in. They didn’t listen.

With the medication I was on, my mood shifted drastically. I got upset over the smallest things. I developed serious phobias that conflicted with my everyday life. I was no longer myself. This illness wasn’t real. The doctors knew my mother was sick and had been for 12 years, but no one bothered to look at the woman, also on countless medications, who was acting as my advocate (even though taking one simple look at my face would tell you that none of it was true.)

When I was 16 I started saving up all my sleeping pills. (This was also difficult because I had been on extreme sleep aids for the past 2 years and when I decided to stop, I stopped sleeping as well.) I saved up two months worth of sleeping pills (I took 2 a day). One day I went into my room and put the entire bottle in my mouth, but before I could swallow the water my mother walked in. She ran at me, screaming. Forced the pills out of my mouth and took them away.

Immediately I regretted not being smarter about it, for I knew my life would be worse that it was the previous 2 years (if that was even possible). Oh but it was. She wouldn’t leave my side. I couldn’t sleep alone, go to the bathroom alone, change my clothes alone. I was forced to accompany her to work...everywhere.

Finally when it was time for my doctor’s appointment she told the doctor who recommended that my mother take me to a C-Care unit because “Lisa, you can’t take care of Liberty forever. You are also sick and need to take care of yourself.” SERIOUSLY?! FUCKING SERIOUSLY?! 

If this is what you call “taking care” of me then I definitely don’t want to see neglect.

My mother took me to C-Care and I sobbed and begged her to take me home. I made promises of change. I told her I would cooperate. I promised to be good. I promised that I would be better. They were gonna take me away...I was scared. I kept thinking that I should have just played along. I should have just taken the meds and gone to the doctor’s appointments and not complain or argue.

She told the nurses that I changed my mind but it was too late. A few minutes later a woman in a skirt suit walked in and asked to speak with me. I tried to explain it all but she said it was my “illness talking” and that I “need to go somewhere where I can be safe.” 

I was taken to room where I was asked to take off all jewelry and empty my pockets.

They then escorted me to a room made completely of squishy plastic (you know the kind they now put on the bottom of playgrounds now instead of wood chips or sand.) The table, the chairs, the walls, everything. It was all connected too. Nothing was it’s own separate piece of furniture. I was alone in that room, with nothing to do, for 3 hours before someone came in telling me my “family” was there to see me.

 I walked into a room full of toys and I saw my mother and my two sisters, one of which was holding one of my suitcases. I knew I was going away.

I didn’t say much, to any of them. I resented my mother for her illness and my sisters for not stopping it. 

The nurse came and took me back. An EMT strapped me to a gurney and loaded me up in an ambulance. They let me family watch.

I had never felt so...dehumanized in my entire life. I was strapped to a gurney, not sitting on it comfortably...no...strapped. Arms and legs tied down and loaded up into an ambulance while my “family” watched. My mother didn’t cry. I keep thinking that maybe she did this to me because if I was “sick” then she wouldn’t have to deal with her own illness. Maybe she felt like more of a mother. She couldn’t take care of a healthy daughter but, mental illness...yeah she knew all about that. 

I was strapped to that ambulance for 3 hours straight, no stopping, no nothing....just staring out the back window watching my home get smaller and smaller and the sky get darker and darker. The EMTs were quiet, but they stared a lot. 

Finally, we arrived in Ventura, California at the Aurora Vista Del Mar Psychiatric Facility. 

I was wheeled inside the co-ed adolescent ward and was put in a room with only female nurses. They covered up all the windows and asked me to take all my clothes off. They strip searched me. I was humiliated. If I didn’t want to kill myself before, I sure did then.

16 years. 16 years of hell. Before I was 14 I was ignored, neglected, forced to fend for myself. When I was in the 4th grade I woke up via alarm clock two hours before school, got myself dressed, made myself breakfast, and sat alone for two hours until it was time to walk myself to school. I walked home, did my own homework, made myself dinner, took a shower, and put myself to bed. 

I raised myself. I took care of myself. I was an 8 year old kid sitting at home on a Saturday alone wondering where everyone was until they came home at 8 o’clock at night with nothing to say.

I was a little kid. I didn’t have a father and a barely had a mother.

I was only in that psych ward for 1 week...but it was 1 week too long. My roommate hid sharp objects in the curtains and she would cut herself at night as I fell asleep. I could hear woman in the adult ward on the other side of the wall screaming at night. Med checks were obnoxious. I hated taking them. I didn’t need them. 

These other kids were proud of themselves. One girl spoke about getting 51/50 tattooed on the inside of her lip. The others laughed. I mean come on...Seriously? You think this is funny?

You are all in here because you tried to kill yourself. You didn’t want your life anymore. Something is seriously wrong. You were obviously not taken care of. 

Please don’t get the wrong idea. I am a believer in medication for mental illness (if it is truly necessary). I do think mental illness is a huge problem that needs to be address. Had that happened for my mother, then maybe I wouldn’t have been where I have been, but I also believe in caution. Don’t medicate those who don’t need to be medicated. 

When my week was finally over, after I had shown good behavior and complete cooperation (one kid told me that was the only way to get out, he pointed to a 17 year old girl and told me that she’d been here for almost 2 months and they were going to send her to a long-term facility within the week) my mom drove to Ventura to pick me up and when I got home...everyone had heard. I lost my boyfriend, all of my friends, my family tip-toed around me. 

I had spoken to my father in the hospital...but only a few times and when I got out he never came to visit.

With all the new strong medications they put me on while I was in the hospital, I had been feeling so sick. Throwing up every meal. I could barely walk. I was so tired. Whenever I’d stand up I felt so dizzy and my vision went black...eventually when that happened I started falling because not only was I dizzy but I couldn’t see so I didn’t have balance. One day I fell in the hallway on the hardwood floor, hit my head and couldn’t remember anything. The ambulance came and took me to the ER. I sat for 6 hours getting fluids. I couldn’t talk without stuttering, couldn’t stand without falling...I could barely keep my eyes open. 

This is what unnecessary medication did to me. I was a vegetable. 

I struggled with this experience for the next three years until about 8 months ago. My mom had handed me my pills and told me to take them in front of her (which she had done since my hospital visit). I said no. She looked at me incredibly confused. “I said no, did you hear me?” I said to her.

She couldn’t speak. She was in shock.

“There is nothing wrong with me. There is something wrong with you.” I told her.

I’ve been clean for 8 months. The process wasn’t easy and there were definitely withdrawals. But I wanted my life back. I wanted what was stolen from me. I couldn’t get back the 19 years I lost but I sure hell was going to try and make up for it. 

I still have to be careful. (I had an ear infection a few weeks ago, took some Hydrocodone prescribed by the doctors and when I came down from it I couldn’t stop hyperventilating and shaking. This is what they have done to me.

I was kicked out of my moms house because she still is under the delusion that I’m sick like her and she said “ I refuse to watch you destroy yourself, if you won’t take the meds then get out.”

Now tell me, does that sound like a mother of someone who actually needs medication?

No.