It was a balmy evening at the Hard Deck as you waited for your father to return from a training mission. He’d asked you to meet him there against your better judgement. Although you didn’t frequent the bar that often anymore you had sought solace in the familiar surroundings of the bar, the chatter of fellow Navy personnel providing a comforting backdrop to your thoughts. As you nursed a drink at the counter trying to push aside the nagging worry that always accompanied your father's missions, you noticed him.

Mickey Garcia, with his effortless charm and magnetic presence strode into the bar. His flight suit a testament to the adrenaline-fueled world he inhabited. His gaze briefly met yours and in that fleeting moment, something sparked between you—a connection born in the anonymity of the crowded room. You should’ve run far, far away after the smirk grew on the pilot’s face. But you couldn’t. It’s like that one look had you rooted right into the bar stool.

Unbeknownst to Mickey he had just caught the eye of Maverick's daughter. You had planned to keep your identity hidden. More than content to observe from the shadows as he approached with a casual confidence that belied the danger of his profession.

"Hey there," he greeted you. His smile as warm as the fading sunlight outside. "Haven't seen you around here before. I’d remember a pretty face like yours. You can’t be a regular, no?"

His words were laced with genuine curiosity with a playful demeanor drawing you in despite the weight of your worries. Little did you know that chance encounter would set the stage for a journey fraught with danger and adventure but so much love. Oh, so much love.

As Mickey leaned casually against the bar with that signature mischievous twinkle in his eyes you couldn't help but return his flirtatious banter. "Well,” you replied with a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Maybe I like to keep things interesting. You never know when a new face might turn up." He was right. You often avoided the Hard Dec as it was your father and Penny’s spot.

Mickey chuckled. The sweet sound sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. "I like the way you think," he said. His gaze lingering on you with unmistakable interest. "Name's Mickey, by the way. Mickey Garcia." You nodded. You knew that. Hell, you knew most of your dads pilots even if you hadn’t formally met them. But you had to play dumb to keep up your charade.

You extended your hand. A coy smile playing on your lips. "Nice to meet you, Mickey. I'm... just a girl trying to enjoy her night."

His handshake was firm, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Well, just a girl, if you ever need someone to show you around this place… you know who to call," he spoke with a confidence only pilots seemed to have.

Before you could respond to him the familiar sound of your fathers voice cut through the air, drawing your attention to the entrance of the bar. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched your father stride in. He looked to be in one piece. Your concern washed away in an instant. His presence commanded the attention of everyone in the room. When he spotted you chatting with one of his pilots at the bar he made a beeline right to you with a less than thrilled look on his face.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Your dad greeted you. His voice was warm with affection as he pulled you into a quick hug. "You holding up okay?"

You nodded. A small smile tugging at your lips as you leaned into his embrace. "Yeah, Dad," you replied oh so grateful for the familiar strength of his arms around you. "Just glad to see you back in one piece."

But as Pete pulled away his gaze fell on Mickey, and you felt a knot of tension coil in the pit of your stomach. There was a shift in the air. A subtle change in your dads demeanor that set your heart racing with apprehension.

"Fanboy," Maverick spoke with an icy tone as he turned his attention to the charming pilot beside you. "Fancy seeing you here."

Mickey's easy grin faltered and was replaced by a look of uncertainty as he met Maverick's gaze. "Hey, Maverick," he replied. His voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Didn't expect to run into you here. You’re not usually here after missions."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between them. The air thick with unspoken tension as Maverick's gaze bore into Mickey with an intensity that made you squirm in your barstool. Finally, Pete spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "No funny business with my daughter, Garcia," he said. His words a thinly veiled warning. "Or you'll answer to me."

Mickey swallowed hard. The weight of Maverick's stare bearing down on him like a leaden weight. "Yes, sir," he replied. His voice was barely above a whisper as he nodded in silent acquiescence.

And as Maverick turned away with his arm slipping around your shoulders in a protective gesture. You couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead for you with Mickey. The chemistry between the two of you was something you’d never experienced before. There had to be something more. You felt caught between the love of a father and the allure of the skies.

It had been years since that fateful meeting at the Hard Deck, years filled with adventure, love, and the occasional heart-stopping moment as you watched your husband and father take to the skies together. But through it all you had remained steadfast in your support for both of them.

As you stood there the memories of that first encounter with Mickey came flooding back. A bittersweet reminder of how far you had come since that chance meeting. Now, as you awaited their return, your heart swelled with a mixture of pride and worry. You knew all too well the dangers that lurked beyond the clouds. But despite the nagging fear that gnawed at your insides you refused to let it consume you. You had learned to trust in Mickey's skill and your dads experience.

Your thoughts then took to earlier on in the week when you father broke the news he was taking your now husband with him to go fly a mission in Russia. He couldn’t tell you the details, but you knew it was going to be risky. Anything overseas always was. A pit formed in your stomach at the thought of the two most important guys in your life putting their lives in danger once again.

Unable to contain your fears any longer you turned to your father with a pleading look in your eyes. "Dad, you can't do this," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "You can't take Mickey on this mission. It's too dangerous dad!"

Maverick's expression hardened. His jaw tightening as he met your gaze with a steely resolve. "I have to, sweetheart," he replied with a sorrowful look as his voice firm but tinged with regret. "We're the best chance they've got and Mickey's one of the best damn WSO’s I know."

You shook your head. The frustration and fear bubbling up inside you like a tempest ready to burst. "But it's not fair," you cried out as the words tumbled out in a rush. "Both of you don’t need to go. How about just you? Or him? Not both of you! I can't take it dad. Please" You knew the pleading would likely fall on deaf ears, but you had to try.

Your voice cracked with emotion. Tears welling up in your eyes as the weight of your fear threatened to crush you. You had spent countless nights lying awake dreading this exact moment when the call would come. One that summoned your father and husband into the heart of danger once again but farther away than you thought possible.

This time felt different, the stakes higher than ever before. And as you stood there with anger and despair boiling over inside you, you knew that you couldn't bear the thought of losing them both, not now, not ever.

Maverick's expression softened. A rare flicker of sympathy crossing his features as he reached out to pull you into a comforting embrace. "I know, sweetheart," he murmured. His voice gentle against your ear. "But we have a job to do, and we'll come back to you, I promise."

You clung to him like a scared five-year-old but you really couldn’t care. You were terrified. The weight of his words offering a sliver of solace amidst the storm of uncertainty you prayed with all your heart that his promise would hold true. That both your father and husband would return to you unscathed once more.

The anticipation was palpable as you stood on the base. Your eyes fixed on the horizon where the carrier would soon appear. It had been over a week since you last saw your husband, and your father depart on their mission. Each moment of their absence had felt like an eternity.

But now as the massive silhouette of the carrier emerged from the vast expanse of the ocean your heart leaped with relief. They were back. They were safe. You knew it because you hadn't received that dreaded call. The one that brought news of tragedy and loss. Still, despite the reassurance a knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach as you waited for them to disembark. You couldn't shake the lingering worry, the fear of the unknown that had plagued you since the moment they left.

And then, finally, the gangplank descended, and a surge of relief washed over you as you caught sight of familiar figures making their way down onto the dock. Your heart raced as you scanned the crowd searching for the faces you longed to see.

And there they were.

Your father emerged first with his iconic aviator shades shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun. Beside him, Mickey walked with a confident stride. His tattered flight suit a testament to the adventure they had just returned from.

Without a second thought you rushed forward ignoring the protests from the officers guarding the walkway. Your heart pounded with a mixture of joy and apprehension. They were here. They were safe. But still you needed to see them with your own eyes. To feel the reassuring warmth of their embrace. His embrace. Your husband and beloved.

Without hesitation you rushed forward to you husband. Your arms outstretched as you leaped into his embrace wrapping your legs around his waist. "Babe!" you exclaimed while happily peppering his cheeks with kisses. "Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you? I missed you so much! Don’t go for that long again, please." Your eyes scanned his frame for any sign of distress.

Mickey laughed while wrapping his arms tightly around you and returning your kisses with equal fervor. "I'm fine, honey," he reassured you, his voice filled with affection. "Not a scratch on me. I missed you more than you know pretty lady." He gave you a squeeze as he held you in his arms as the both of you ignored the bewildered captain beside you.

Your attention wholly focused on the man holding you in his strong arms. But when you finally pulled back you couldn't help but notice the grin spreading across your fathers face as he watched the reunion between his daughter and son-in-law.

"Looks like someone's glad to see her husband and not so much her old man," he remarked with amusement twinkling in his eyes.

You flushed with embarrassment realizing you had been so caught up in your reunion with Mickey that you had all but forgotten all about your father. But as you glanced back at him you found nothing but warmth and understanding in his expression.

"Sorry, Dad," you said sheepishly. "I was just... really glad to see Mickey. It’s good to see you too." As you attempted to slip down from Mickey's hold expecting to stand on your own feet again, you felt him tighten his grip around you. He wasn't willing to let you go just yet and a warm sense of contentment washed over you as you remained enveloped in his embrace.

Maverick chuckled. His eyes had a knowing amusement in them as he watched the scene unfold. "I can see that," he replied. His voice tinged with pride. "I see I’ve officially been replaced."

You grinned with your cheeks flushing with affectionate embarrassment at your father's teasing remark. "Well, Dad," you spoke playfully jabbing his shoulder from Mickey’s hold. "I think there's enough love to go around for both of you."

Pete laughed. "I suppose so," His voice filled with warmth as he spoke. "Just don't forget who taught him everything he knows."

You smiled, feeling a rush of gratitude for the two most important men in your life. "I could never forget.”

As Maverick chuckled, shaking his head, and walked away he left just the two of you there to continue on. Mickey still held you close in his arms. His embrace filled with a longing that mirrored your own. With Pete out of sight he seemed to pull you even closer. His touch igniting that usual fire within you.

Feeling his warmth enveloping you, you melted into his embrace. Your body fitting perfectly against his. His lips found yours in a hungry kiss. A silent declaration of his desire and his longing for you. The kiss deepened becoming more passionate as if he couldn't get enough of you after being apart for too long.

When he finally pulled back his breath came out in ragged gasps. He pressed his forehead against yours with eyes dark full of desire. "God, I missed you," he murmured. His voice husky with emotion. A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes as he winked suggestively. His lips curling into a playful grin. And as you stood there wrapped in his embrace surrounded by the sights, and sounds of the base, you knew that the reunion you had been longing for was just beginning.

With a shared smirk Mickey held you a as tight as he could without squeezing you completely. His gaze was filled with promises of the passion to come. "Let's get out of here my love," he whispered. His voice low and intimate. "I want to show you just how much I missed you." The earned a giggle out of you as you knew he meant business when it came to that look.

And with that he carried you effortlessly towards your car. Each step filled with anticipation and desire. With a thrill of excitement coursing through you, you knew that the night ahead held endless possibilities. And you couldn't wait to explore them all with the man you loved.

Jake Seresin had known you for the better half of his life. He was the boy next door, the slightly older but far less mature brother who’d walk you home from the bus stop just to trip you over to see you face plant into the dirt at the same time. So when you had reached out to see if there was any work going in his corner of the world, he jumped at the opportunity to get you behind the bar of the Hard Deck. 

Penny had been looking for a new barkeep, and hell, you fit right in. 

“Hyde’s pretty—“ Was all Mickey replied with as he fed Logan, his eight month old, a bottle. “And nice, Hyde’s nice.” Was all Jake got out of the clearly distracted Weapons System Officer. 

“That’s all? Pretty and nice?” Jake stared down at the little boy who was clearly getting milk drunk faster than Jake was getting real drunk. “Dude—don’t you think—“ 

“Don’t start.” Mickey snapped harshly, it had been a day and a half and the last thing he needed was Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin pestering him about when he was gonna get back on the horse. “I said she’s nice, now drop it, Hangman.” 

Before Jake could say another word, he caught the sight of you sauntering over with a pep in your step and a smile plastered on your face. You brought the sun into any dreary situation, you lit up rooms with your smile and that infectious laugh that sounded like the gates of heaven had opened up truly brightened any person's mood that was blessed enough to hear it. 

“Can I get you flyboys anything else to drink while I collect empties?” You asked politely as you stood holding the empty round collection tray. “Another bottle for Logan Mick?” 

“Oh he should be good, thanks Hyde.” Mickey changed up his attitude real quick while you were around and Jake wasn’t one to not take notice. “But if you don’t mind I’ll grab another beer for Hangman and just a ginger beer for me thanks.” 

“Sure thing.” You hadn’t been in North Island for very long, but in the time you had been you’d come to develop a pretty sincere crush on the back seater with the black curls and the cute kid. “I’ll be right back.” 

Jake wasn’t gonna say anything as you walked away but Mickey beat him to it regardless. 

“She’s got nice eyes too.” He mumbled as he rocked Logan in his lap. “They’re beautiful, just like her smile.” Jake hadn’t ever heard Fanboy say anything along those lines about anyone ever. “She’s a good person—“ He added before he pressed his lips together in a fine line. “But I’m not ready to move on.” 

“I get it.” Jake sighed, he sympathised, truly he did. But Jake Seresin was always in favour of playing the devil’s advocate. “But if there’s anyone who’s going to understand it’s Hyde, she’s good people man, start slow and maybe you’ll surprise yourself.” 

“Slow for me is just saying that another woman is beautiful out loud.” Mickey mumbled as he looked down at a now sleeping Logan, every bit the image of the mother he’d never truly know. 

“Who’s beautiful?” You asked as he came back with Jake's beer and Mickey's ginger beer. “You got your eyes on someone, hey Fanboy?” It was an innocent dig but deep down you hoped that maybe, just maybe, he was talking about you. 

“Oh—no I was just—“ Mickey didn’t know what to say or how to play it off. All Jake could do was watch, he could have thrown a lifeline out to the poor man but the sight of Mickey Garcia fumbling the bag was just too perfect. “I was just saying that I uh—you’re—” He couldn’t get himself to say it, and all you could do was simply try to hide the smirk that wanted to creep itself across your face. “I think that someone’s waiting for you to take their order.” 

“Oh.” You tried to hide your disappointment but ultimately Jake could see right through your faked smile. “My bad, I'll get back to it then.” As you placed your hands in the back pockets of your jeans, Mickey watched with a painful twinge in his heart as you turned around and headed back towards the bar. 

“Smooth romeo, hella smooth.” He teased as Jake took a sip from his beer. He wasn’t trying to push anything, he just thought you’d be good for Fanboy. He needed someone to be friendly with, someone who wasn’t navy to hang out with. Someone to help him heal from the trauma he’d been through. 

Mickey though, he just took the opportunity to throw a single peanut Jake's way. He wasn’t ready to move on, he wasn’t sure if he ever would be. But as he watched you work and laugh with patrons who crowded the bar—he felt his heart flutter.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“I’m driving!” Sophie Garcia was the light of Mickey's life and for the last nine months, she’d been pregnant with their first born. “God please let me drive, I’ve been doing nothing but feeding our son for the past two weeks and I need to feel like something more than a dairy cow.” The college sweethearts couldn’t have been any more in love. 

“So a chauffeur is what you go for?” Mickey chuckled as he strapped little newborn Logan Reece Garcia into his car seat. “Honestly Soph, I don’t mind driving, but feel free if you wanna.” 

He should have driven. 

Mickey hadn’t even finished strapping their fresh out of the womb son in before Sophie was clipping her seatbelt in and turning on the engine of the BT-50 the pair had both gone in for earlier on in their marriage. Five years and going strong. “Alright, well that answers that, doesn’t it buddy.” Mickey cooed to his sleeping son before he made his way to the passenger seat, a seat he hadn’t been in since before Logan was born. “You remember how to drive?” 

He should have driven. 

“I gave birth, I didn't have brain surgery—“ Sophie laughed as she put the truck into gear and pulled out of the driveway, the two of them were going on their first family outing—to home depot for bubble wrap and boxes for the big move. “Yes I remember how to drive.” 

“Okay good, I was just checking.” Mickey strapped himself in and checked his phone, the Garcia family were set to move from Maine to San Diego in just under a week and still not a single person in Mickey's new squad knew he was a new dad. Not Bob or Payback, Coyote or Hangman, Rooster or Phoenix. No one. Not a single one knew about his wife or kid and not a single one knew he was married to the love of his life. His best friend. The human embodiment of true beauty. 

“When should we head around to your mums for dinner?” Mickey asked as Sophie drove the open road boarded by paddocks and empty fields. They lived right on the outskirts which meant farms and the quarry where local contractors got their materials from. Sophie never did like the quarry, it gave her the heebie jeebies every time she drove past, like it was calling to her. An unknown force pleading with her to come closer, to look over the edge. 

“Maybe just after six when Logan goes down for a—shit!” In the blink of an eye Sophie was overcorrecting the steering wheel, Mickey only caught a glimpse of the stray horse that had shot out onto the road right in front of their truck as his wife swerved but managed soon thereafter to regain control. It was unlike any horses Mickey had seen around the farms that boarded his little slice of paradise. After having grown up in an apartment in Brooklyn he wanted his family to know fresh air and grass. 

This horse was different though, it was gone in the blink of an eye. 

“Holy shit—“ Sophie sighed as she kept both hands on the steering wheel and felt her heart hammer into her chest. “That was close.”

“Too close.” Mickey added as he turned around to check on little baby Logan. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” 

“No no I’m okay.” Sophie was adamant about it, she wanted to contribute to the team. “It was just a freak occurrence, Amor.” As soon as Mickey turned around to face the road, Sophie’s eyes trailed from the road to her husband’s for five seconds, no more no less. “I love you.” She had control, she was totally in control of the car her family were driving in. Everything was totally fine. 

He should have driven. 

“I love you too—“ Mickey managed as he drank in the sight of his glowingly beautiful wife, the mother of his child. As his eyes trailed back to the road he saw it, the massive pothole that was just completely unavoidable. “Sophie!” Mickey gasped as she hit the hole head on and overturned on the steering as they ran off the road. The plastic water bottle that had been sitting stagnant in the centre console cup holders became dislodged when they slammed through the quarry fencing and rolled right under the breaks as Sophie tried to hit them. “Hit the breaks!” Mickey shouted as he held on for dear life as the quarry edge approached. Holy shit they were gonna go over. 

He should have driven. 

“I’m trying, I can't!” Sophie tried repeatedly as the truck approached the cliff face of the quarry ditch. “Oh my god oh my god!” As soon as Sophie was able to pull the handbrake in a last stitch effort to stop the truck her little family were in from careening over the edge of the quarry—the two front tires went over the edge as dirty scrapped along the bottom of the cab—stilling the vehicle on a near vertical tilt. 

Airbags designed to protect the occupants deployed and in the process, broke Mickey's nose. He wasn’t prepared for the sheer force of the deployment before it smacked him right in the face. 

“Oh god!” He groaned as he pushed the sea of deflated airbag down into his lap as the view before him came into clear sight. All he saw was the quarry as they teetered on the edge of the embankment. If the truck slid any further forward? They’d fall to their deaths. 

“Holy shit, we’re okay.” Logan had never cried so hard before in his two weeks earthside, the tiny little human in the backseat was just sleeping soundly before all this. Now he was up and hungry and crying out for his mum. “We’re okay—“

“Mickey.” Sophie could barely speak as her hands clutched the steering wheel, her own airbag sat deflated in her lap as fear all but consumed her very soul. “Oh my god.” The car rocked slightly as the wind rushed past and Sophie let out a whimper in fear. “Help—“

“Okay, alright—we’re okay.” Mickey was trying to think about how to get out of this mess without making the car move. They couldn’t stay like this, not trapped on the edge of a ledge that would surely give way. “Can you open your door?” Mickey asked through a shaking voice as he unclipped his seatbelt and opened his car door very, very carefully. He needed to check on Logan, needed to get him out of harm's way. But as he popped the door handle the car slid slightly forward. “Fuck.” He could taste blood but that didn’t matter, what mattered was his family. 

“Uh—“ Sophie shook her head as she tried to open her door. But it didn’t budge—the fencing post had jammed the aluminum framing in as they ran through the fence. “No, no I can’t open my door.” Logan wasn’t settling as his cries got louder and louder. “Mick, please you have to get Logan out of this truck, please—“ 

“Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise—just try and stay still alright.” Mickey was moving as carefully and as slowly as he could to get out of the truck. Once he was out, Sophie really began to cry as she covered her mouth with her hand and moved the deflated airbag to see her knees and thighs were cut up and jammed right up under the steering wheel column. 

She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

“Hey—“ Mickey cooed as he slowly but surely opened the back door of the truck to unclip his son from his car seat. He was being as careful as he could be to not rock the truck. “Hey little guy you’re alright aren’t you buddy.” Logan was a mess, his little cheeks were red as red could be as his little lungs ignited with oxygen to fuel his cries. “I’ve got you, daddies got you, I’m here, you're alright.” 

“Is he okay?” Sophie cried as she tried to remain perfectly still, only moving her hand to slowly press the window button. “Miguel is Logan alright?” 

“He’s fine.” Mickey replied once he had the two week old out of his car seat and crying on his chest. “He’s fine, I’m gonna put him down by the tree and I’ll be right back okay.” Before Sophie could protest, Mickey was racing over towards the tree that wasn’t far away—he knew there was a rope in the back of the truck he could tie to tow bar off to if he couldn’t get Sophie out, that was plan B. Plan now was to get her out. 

“Shhhh I’ve got you.” Mickey tried to soothe his son as he placed him down on the ground as gently as he could. He took the jumper off he’d been wearing to make a little makeshift bed before he placed Logan in the comfort of his father’s scent. “You’re okay, I’ll be right back.” 

When Mickey returned he saw the full extent of his wife’s predicament and knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but they had to try.

“I’m never driving again.” Sophie tried to crack a joke but all Mickey did was try to open the door. It wouldn’t budge for love nor money. This was bad, very bad. 

“Okay, I need you to try and move your legs.” He could see how jammed up in the column they truly were but it was one of the only hopes left. Maybe if Sophie could get herself unstuck Mickey could pull her through the window or help her out the passenger side. “Come on Amor, you have to try.” 

“I can’t move them.” She sighed through a whimper as she tried to set herself free, the truck slipped a little further and Sophie froze in fear. She was looking death right in the eye now, it was a long way down to the bottom of the quarry. “Mickey—“

“I’m right here, I’m gonna get you out, I just need to buy us some time to figure out how.” He explained. “There’s a rope in the back, I’m gonna tie the truck off to the tree okay, I’ll be right back.” 

Sophie Garcia knew she wasn’t getting out of the truck the longer she stared out into the abyss that was the quarry threatening to consume her. She could hear her baby boy crying out for her but there was nothing she could do but accept reality, accept the hand she’d been dealt. All she hoped in that very moment was that her college sweetheart, her best friend and father of her very first and only child would find someone who could love him like she did, or possibly more. She wanted him to be loved forever because Mickey deserved all the love in the world and more. He didn’t deserve this, to lose the love of his life. 

And perhaps Sophie wasn’t the love of Mickey's life, perhaps she was just his first, maybe there was some greater love waiting for him around the corner. It brought her a calming sort of comfort as she sat there teetering on the edge of nothingness, trapped in the wreck of her actions. She should have been paying attention. 

Mickey grabbed the rope from the back of the truck and tied it around the back of the tow bar, making sure it was secure before he took off running right towards the tall tree that he knew was strong enough to hold the weight of his BT-50. 

But when he felt himself stopping, being pulled back by gravity as he fell to his arse, Mickey's heart sank into the very pit of his stomach. 

“No—oh god no no no no!!” The rope wasn’t long enough. The rope wasn’t fucking long enough. “Oh god no, please no.” 

Mickey felt the truck shift forward as he let go of the rope and raced back to his wife’s side. There wasn’t enough time, he needed more time to get her out, to think, to understand why this was happening. But there wasn’t any time. 

“I love you so much.” Sophie cried as Mickey reached in to try and free her legs from being trapped up under the steering wheel column but he was doing more damage than good. “So much Mickey.” 

“I need you to pull your legs out right now!” At this point Mickey was a wreck, he didn’t know what else to do. “Pull your damn legs Sophie!!” Her bottom lip quivered as the truck shifted forward again, it was tipping. It was about to go. “NNOOOOOO!!” Mickey shouted as he held onto the door and tried to pull it open. He couldn't do anything else to help his wife. 

“Please look after Logan for me—take care of him always.” Sophie cried as Mickey reached in to try one more time to free her. “I love you.” Was the last thing she ever said before Mickey felt two hands on his body before he was being shoved away. The second he fell back onto the ground the truck his wife was still trapped inside of went careening over the edge of the quarry. 

“NOOOO!” It felt like time stood still as Mickey watched the love of his life fall to her death over the edge of the quarry cliff face. He laid on his stomach and peered over to see the crumbled aluminum at the bottom—all twisted and broken and shattered. “NNOOOO!” 

Logan continued crying even when Mickey had found the courage to pick himself and his son up off the ground to try and find a way down. He probably circled that particular part of the quarry for the better half of half an hour before the next car came down the road that was barely driven on. They saw Mickey walking along the edge and stopped when they saw the skid marks kicked up in the grass but no car in sight. 

“You alright there bud?” An older looking gentleman asked as Mickey turned around to face him. Only then did he let himself crumble to his knees when reality set in. He’d just lost the love of his life. 

“My wife and I were in an accident—I think, I think she’s—she’s trapped down in the quarry.” He cried out through painful tears. Mickey didn’t have the courage to say she was dead. “Please help me.” 

“I’ll call an ambulance.” The older gentleman nodded as Mickey sat with his now soothing son on the ground, rocking back and forth mumbling to himself. 

“I should have driven, I should have driven, I should have just driven.” 

Until he saw the same white horse, staring at him from across the broken fence he and Sophie had smashed through. Just watching the man who lost it all in the blink of an eye unravel in the mid afternoon glow. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Are you heading out for the night, Fanboy?” Mickey was one of the last patrons left in the Hard Deck, but he hadn’t taken any notice of the time that had passed as he thought back to the day he lost his wife. The damned day. 

“Uh—“ He was going to say yes, going to head out and make sure Logan got to bed because it was way past his bedtime. But he was sleeping soundly in his arms as Mickey approached the bar. “No actually I was uh—I was gonna see if you needed a ride home actually.” It was the boldest Mickey had been since he met you and had started to develop some sort of feeling or two. “Or if you might just want the company while you shut up shop.” 

It hurts to tear that bandage off, we don’t wanna see what’s underneath. But maybe it’s not the fear of the pain that holds us back, but maybe it’s the fact we’re afraid to see if the wound underneath is still open.

“I’d love a ride home.” You smiled softly with a nod as you felt the heat in your cheeks rise. “And the company seems pretty good to Flyboy.” 

Or if it might actually be healing. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~****~**

Fanboy is a team player, he thrives off the people he chooses to surround himself with. He’s a social butterfly who goes from person to person through the night collecting stories and making memories laced in drunken hazes or sober serenity. He could be described as a compassionate person who goes above and beyond for the people in his life. 2

But most importantly, his wife, Y/n, could describe Mickey as a life partner who consistently shows that he is one of the best people you could ever know. He knows how to crack a joke at the right moment and lighten any mood you might find yourself in. His love for his passions and career and his wife surfaces any kind of love anyone had ever seen. 

Because Mickey Fanboy Garcia is good people. Simply put– he’s the best kind of person you want on your team. 

But despite all that, despite all the kind and gracious things people say about him–Fanboy couldn't feel any further from it. 

“But I'm not.” It was the way your husband said it that made you question if you were the one who wasn't taking his concerns as seriously as you should be. Mickey stood in the shower with his head under the warmth of the running water, hiding his tears as the muscles in his back clenched in anger. “Payback was my longest standing front seater, everyone leaves.” 

You knew it was hard on your husband to say goodbye to people who he trusted with his life. You could remember the last time Mickey was separated from his front seater. Erin was a dear friend, but you hadn’t seen her in a few years. 

“Everyone always ends up leaving me and I don't know what to do with myself.” You had a feeling this could have been about more than just Payback's new posting. There was an underlying tone of self sorrow that you picked up on as you turned around to face your husband as he showered. As you let out a soft but audible sigh, you knew that there had to be more. “Six months–six months is the longest I've had a front seater for and you wanna stand here and tell me I'm not the problem?” 

You and Mickey didn’t argue an awful lot, again, he was as kind as kind could be. But he was struggling, he had concocted this ideology in his mind that everyone around him, all his friends, his family, you, we’re going to leave. Abandon him sooner or later. 

And it didn’t help that you and Mickey had been working so much as of late that your conflicting schedules were beginning to take a toll on your ability to communicate properly. 

“I don’t think it's you babe–” You began as you made your way over to the shower door. The fog from the shower made the glass its home as you pushed it open, watching as your husband's muscles tightened at your response. But you persisted, hesitantly. “Erin, Reuban, even the guys before like Luke and Mitch, they were either stationed out or just got caught up in the reshuffle, I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with you.” 

Mickey Garcia was genuinely the best person you knew. So when he turned around with veins popping in his neck from frustration, you didn't know how to process the way his tone echoed off the walls around you. It didn't sound like your husband, the man you loved so dearly. The man who was usually the level headed, logical partner out of the two of you. 

“Y/n, just stop.” You had to pause and take a minute to register what was going on. “You've been working nights, weekends, hell you've even been working my days off– I know somethings going on.” You really had to hold your tongue as Mickey let loose. You knew it was coming from a place of anger and frustration, but regardless it was missguided, it wasn't appreciated, and it certainly could have been handled in a better way. “If you’re gonna leave too, just fucking do it.” 

Your husband never swore at you the way he just had. Mickey wasn’t himself, you couldn’t recognise the sadness in his eyes. The pain behind his tears. He was crumbling under the weight of being left behind over and over and over again by the people who mattered most. 

“You think I’d leave you?” You had to make sure you had all the dots connected before you decided to let your frustration run wild. “You think that because the people you work with change and that I’ve taken on a bigger role in the company that I’d leave you?” 

“Everyone leaves me!!” Mickey finally snapped as he ran his hands through his wet, dark brown locks. Completely soaked and clinging to his scalp and neck. “Everyone—so yeah, with the track record I’ve got going babe I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before you decide I’m not good enough for you either!” You stood there completely speechless, in all the years you had known your husband you had never seen him so broken, so full of self doubt and self loathing that he had begun to take it out on you. “I’m not good enough—“ But then, the gentle stream of tears turned into someone more violent and all consuming. 

“Honey—“ You cooed as you watched your husband shake his head as painful sobs ripped through his chest. The walls were all closing in on him. Those shoulders of his that you thought could have carried the weight of the world, slumped in utter defeat and soon enough—Mickey Fanboy Garcia was on his knees under the warm stream of water, crying out for someone to stay with him. “Oh Mick, honey.” 

“Everyone always leaves.” It came out like a mantra, the voices inside his mind wouldn’t stop. “You’ll leave too, and I’ll be all alone and I don’t know what I keep doing wrong.” You had to do something, consol your husband so that he knew he wasn’t alone. He had his demons but you were there to fend them off, like a knight in shining armor. 

As Mickey kneeled under the warm stream, crying into the palms of his hands, you stripped off your clothes. Articles laid strewn across the bathroom floor haphazardly as you stepped into the shower and kneeled with your husband. 

But you can't control a nightmare that isn't yours, and you can't decide what happens next in someone else's dreams. 

It was only then did the nightmare Mickey thought he was already living turn into an all out hellscape. Your touch, usually so warm and comforting, was as cold as ice. So cold it damn near burned his cheeks. When Mickey looked up to meet your gaze he saw nothing but dark eyes that allowed him to peer into your soul. Nothing remained but a darkness so unholy that it made him jump about three feet away from you into the glass of the shower. 

“We all left you Fanboy.” It wasn’t your voice anymore, but Paybacks. “Wake up!” It was your body, but your voice had been contorted into something straight from hell. 

Mickey cried as you crawled towards him, he cowered in the corner of the shower as you cornered him in, trapping him without any kind of defense as you chuckled and smirked—the corners of your lips exaggerated to the point it looked as if your lips had been pinned to your cheeks. 

“Wake up, don’t you smell the burning fuel?” 

In that very moment Mickey gasped as the overwhelming smell of burning jet fuel choked his airways. Suddenly he wasn’t in the shower anymore—he was in the snowy pine fields laying on his back looking up at the clouds above. 

“Y/n?” He moaned as he rolled over, still coughing and splattering as he tried to gather his bearings. What had happened? Where was he? Oh. The mission. “Payback?” 

Groaning as he rose to his knees, Mickey took his helmet off and looked around the burning rubble and debris from the F-18 he’d just been in. Parts laid sprawled over the snowy field as small pockets of fire burned the twisted chunks of aluminum and carbon fiber. 

The more he looked the more he came to terms with what had happened. It was a surface to air missile. 

“PAYBACK!?” Mickey shouted as he stumbled weakly to his feet, coughing up blood as he did so from his prominent injuries. How was he even alive? “REUBEN!?” His throat was cut up. Torn apart from shouting and yelling at the top of his lungs as he walked and walked and walked through the forest to try and find his front seater. 

A panic deep inside him began to bubble over when Mickey realised that his biggest fear was coming to fruition. And when he heard the helicopter buzzing not too far from where he stood he knew that he was being left behind, he knew he was going to be left behind to die alone. 

“HEY!” He shouted as he ran as fast as he could, sprinting through the thick covering of snow as he saw Payback being hoisted into the air. “I'M HERE! WAIT!” 

No one could see him, no one could hear him. All Mickey could think about was you, his beautiful wife, being left to stamp his wing into his coffin. 

“PLEASE! DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!” 

But it was all to no avail, the rescue helicopter turned around and began to fly away. In the opposite direction from where Mickey stood. And his biggest fears came true. 

Mickey Fanboy Garcia wasn’t good enough to be saved. He wasn’t good enough to not be left behind, and he certainly wasn’t going to be rescued. 

He’d been left behind. 

***~***~***~***~***~**~***~***~***~***~

“Hello?” Mickey Garcia would even go as far to say it holds the human soul at the very epicenter. But no matter how much research is done, no one can really say how all that delicate gray matter inside your skull works. 

“Dunno.” Jake sighed, he couldn’t help but to squint and lean a little more forward in his chair to see if he could make out who was stumbling up the dirt drive. “You wanna go or should I?” 

And when it’s hurt, when the human brain is traumatised, well—that’s when it gets even more mysterious. 

“I’ll go.” You nodded softly. “I feel like we only just got rid of Tash.” It was still a touchy subject to say the very least. “Hopefully whoever it is isn’t as confused.” 

“Wishful thinking Hotshot.” Jake teased as he cut himself another slice of Brie and placed it on one of those multigrain crackers he really liked. 

As you walked down the driveway, you saw your daughter feeding her chickens, collecting eggs that had been laid and cleaning up the wooden house Jake had helped her build. It was her own mini farm. She was everything. You and Jake knew you had a rough decision ahead of you, to decide when she’d stop aging. But at what point do you decide another soul can’t continue to grow? When a figment of imagination stops being created. It was the down side to parenting in the after life. 

Gravel crunched under every step you took and soon enough you were able to make out the curls that were undeniably Mickey. There was glass all over his shirt and shoulders as blood dripped from his styled hairdo. He looked good, like he’d just been out on the town. 

He didn’t come to you like Bob in his flight suit or Bradley in his hospital gown or even like Natasha who was still in her pajamas. No. Fanboy looked like he was doing something special here—what exactly you didn’t know. 

“So that’s it huh?” You called out to grab his attention. For a second Mickey looked around until he was standing still again, taking you in for all you were worth. “All the WSO’s are out of the race?” Fanboy didn’t look a day older than when you’d last seen him. 

Fuck.

“This is such bull shit.” Fanboy huffed as he kicked up some dust on the drive like a petulant child who didn’t get the desert he wanted. “I had the right of way! That dickhead didn’t even look and I’m the one who dies!?” He pointed at his chest before he shook his head in disbelief. “I was coming back from dinner! I’d been with Becky and her friends and she stayed back and—“ It’s then reality kicks in for Mickey Garcia. He stills all the while his brain catches up with him. “Oh my god—“ It’s then his eyes met yours as they welled with tears. “I’m never gonna see her again.” 

“You will.” You make sure to add before Fanboy can spiral any further into a depressive episode. “Come up to the house with me, there’s someone who wants to say hello.” 

Fanboy linked his arm with yours and slowly he walked side by side with you up to the old but beautiful farmhouse that sat nestled amongst old oak trees and gardens that flowered all year round. He was mesmerised by its beauty—the tranquility of it all. 

“I gotta say, it’s good to see you after all these years.” Mickey began as he tapped his hand over yours as he walked. “But I’m a little confused why it’s you of all people?” Mickey smiled at the chuckle you let out—god that was a sound he’d missed for years and years and years. Not a day went by that he didn’t think of you, or Jake for that matter. How tragic your story was. How meaningful your life was even after your death. “Not that I’m complaining, I just never thought it would look like this.” 

“We’re just as confused as you are.” You explained softly all the while Fanbky caught the sight of a little girl playing with a few chickens. “But please don’t get me wrong here Mick, this isn’t the gates of heaven—“ You tried to explain the best you could. “This is my version of heaven, this is mine and Jakes.” 

“Hangman’s here!?” It was then Fanboy started to look around as you got closer and closer to where you’d left your husband. When the dark curly haired aviator saw the panty dropping smile plastered across Jake's face as he came into vision, he took off running like he’d never run before in his life. “YOU SON OF A BITCH!” 

There wasn’t a lick of malice in Fanboys tone as he embraced Jake in the biggest hug he swore he’d ever given. 

“Hey man—“ Jake slapped Mickey's back gently as he hugged his old colleague. “I missed you, really.” 

“You son of a bitch man, you just—one day you were there and the next you were gone and I couldn’t figure it out—“ Mickey was babbling, he was trying to explain how utterly heartbroken the team was after Jake's death. “I uh, I collected your things from the morgue, after, well, you uh—“ 

“You don’t have to say if Mick.” Jake added as he chuckled and sat back down. You followed, only instead of taking your own chair you gestured for  Mickey to take a seat. You decided Jake lap would be more comfortable. It was. “Rooster kinda went a little AWOL after you died, so I went to grab your things and I saw that picture of Hollywood in your wallet and I just knew man—I knew you were dead long before you ever really died.” 

“What photo?” You asked softly as you looked at your husband in the warmth of the afternoon sun. “Honey?” 

“It was just some photo I took way back when—“ You saw the crimson hume creeping itself across Jake's cheeks as he went on explaining. Mickey never got to see this version of the two of you, it felt like a blessing, a chapter finishing on a high it always deserved to have. “We were all hanging around the pool table, it must have been like a week before we shipped out.” You never knew about this. “I snapped a photo of you laughing, god it was just the most perfect picture, Hotshot.” 

“You kept me in your wallet?” How on earth had you never known this. 

“Always—“ Jake replied without a second of hesitation. “You were my WSO.” It was the sweetest of interactions, the most loving of exchanges as Jake leaned in to give you a simple peak full of admiration. “Love you.” 

“Why am I here?” Mickey asked as he flicked shards of glass from his shoulders. “Like I get I’m dead, which sucks so bad because I was about to get married in two weeks!” Mickey explained as tears welled in his eyes at the thought of leaving his fiancée behind. He already missed her, oh so much. “But like, why am I here with you two? And you’re kid?” Fanboy frowned at the thought. “Hold on, how do you two have a kid?” He was throwing out far too many questions way too quickly before you even had a chance to answer them. 

“Okay first.” Jake started as he wrapped his arms around your midsection and drew you back into him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Jake wanted to see if Mickey was dying or if he was already dead. It seemed as though when Bob and Natasha came through they were still just barely holding on. Rooster though, he was dead as dead could be. “Do you hear anything? See anything?” 

“I remember having the right of way at the intersection—“ Mickey sighed as he slumped in his chair. “Next thing I saw was headlights and then I was lying on the bonnet of my car down the road.” It was hard to listen to, but at least it had been quick. “I walked up the first driveway I saw.” You were waiting for Mickey to say he could hear sirens or someone calling out to him. But when he didn’t you knew then and there: 

That he’d died alone, and instantly at that. 

“Oh Mickey.” All you could do was feel a deep rooted sympathy for the WSO who sat in front of you. “I’m so sorry—“ 

“I’ll get to see her again, won’t I?” 

“I hope so.” It was as genuine as ever. “When I first got here I could still hear Jake asking me to stay, but I just had this feeling he wouldn’t be too far behind me if I stayed here and got everything ready.” 

It brought Jake solace to know you weren’t in pain when you left him. That was always his biggest fear. If you suffered or not. 

“I don’t hear anything—“ Again it broke your heart, the poor thing probably didn’t even know her fiancé had died in a car wreck yet. “What do I uh, where do I go?” Mickey cleared his throat as he tried to hold it together. He still wore the ring his fiancée had given him to match the one he’d gotten her. “Do I stay here with you guys or do I just start walking and hope for the best?” 

“Bradshaws with his parents across the hills.” Jake explained as he let his chin fall to your shoulder. “Bobs off somewhere in a music store—“ 

“Phoenix is at the beach house she grew up visiting with her family.” You added softly, still trying to be as sensitive as you could be. “So it just depends on where you’ve always pictured yourself.” 

“So like, if I said I wanted to spend forever in the roller rink my Abuela used to take me to when I was a kid, I could go there?” Mickey asked all the while he admired the beauty that was you and Jake. He never thought he’d get to see this, the happy ending the pair of you deserved. It was all the closure he needed. 

“I think so!” You chuckled. “I’m still not entirely sure how it all works, we don’t even know why you guys keep stopping by.” It was then a light bulb flicked up atop Mickey's head, he knew. He knew why. 

“I do.” Fanboys eyes glasses over with a sadness you couldn’t quite understand. “You guys both took something a little different from all of us when you died.” Jake's hold on you got a little tighter—his forearms pressed against your stomach as he tensed at the thought of leaving his friends behind. “And they say you can’t move onto the next life if you have unfinished business.” It made sense, Mickey had always had a pretty open take on death and the after life. “But our unfinished business died before us, guess this is our way of getting to say a proper goodbye, close that open window you guys jammed open when you left.” 

“Huh—“ Jake pressed his lips into the crook of your neck. “I never thought of it that way.” 

“The brain is the body’s most mysterious organ—“ Mickey could hear the sound of rollerblades racing past. If he closed his eyes he could smell the all too familiar smell of roller rink hot dogs and buffalo wings. “This isn’t the last time I’ll see you guys right?” 

“Nah man—“ Jake confirmed. “We’ll come visit, whenever you need us.” Silence washed over the three of you just as your daughter came racing up the porch steps. Mickey didn’t understand it—but he was happy to see it. “Hey Bug.” Jake pulled his daughter down onto his lap as well. His entire world in his very grasp. “How many did you get today?” 

“Seven.” Mickey swore blind that girl was the spitting image of Jake Seresin. It was almost scary. “I better go put them in the fridge.” 

“Go on sweetheart, we’ll be in soon.” Ellie Seresin didn’t blink twice at the man who sat across from her parents. Mickey would have introduced himself but sure enough, she was heading inside without so much as giving him the side eye. That’s when you told him the truth. 

“She can’t see you.” 

“How come?” Mickey asked, he was cautious not to sound too abrupt. 

“She’s a figment of our imagination.” Jake explained as he watched his daughter through the window. “You can’t create new life in death, she’s not real.” 

“But I can see her?” It was a hard topic of discussion even when it was just you and Jake. She was so real to the both of you. So genuine and pure. But you both knew, one day. She’d vanish. You wouldn’t need her anymore to help you heal. 

“Because you exist.” Was all you said as you sent Mickey a fine lipped smile. “You existed in life so you see everything in death.” 

Mickey Garcia would even go as far to say the mind holds the human soul at the very epicenter. And from what he could gather from what you and Jake had just told him. Little Ellie Seresin was just that. The very epicenter of yours and Jakes forever intertwined souls. And when it’s hurt, when the human brain is traumatised—

Well—that’s when it gets even more mysterious. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***