Chapter Text
وطن المرء ليس مكان ولادته و لكنه المكان الذي تنتهي فيه كل محاولاته للهروب
“Home is not where you were born; home is where all your attempts to escape cease.”
Naguib Mahfouz
Twenty-four hours later, Emma found herself once more in very familiar territory, namely the pilots' briefing room aboard the USS Ronald Reagan.
She had eventually gathered her strength and turned up at the end of the graduation ceremony, forced smile and congratulatory words she almost choked on painted on her lips. Although Huntsman was rather magnanimous in victory, Hook was unbearable and obnoxiously paraded the trophy, showing off to any woman who was unfortunate enough to come within striking distance.
When she had turned up at 108 Mifflin Street the day before, the Mercedes was gone and all the curtains had been drawn. She had waited outside Regina's house all afternoon, to no avail. In the end, it looked like Regina had left her behind too and gone to Washington. Maybe she was unfair to her. After all, they had last talked in an airport bar, and Regina had no reason to believe she hadn't stepped onto the next plane out of Nevada but it hurt nonetheless. Nobody said it had to be rational.
Gandalf’s interruption had been unexpected but welcome. What she also had not expected was to be getting her orders so soon, nor for them to involve her immediate return to the Persian Gulf alongside Huntsman, the Hoos and Butch.
Wookiee's welcome had been as gruff as his manners were but Emma had caught the small nod of sympathy and encouragement he directed her way, and it had warmed her heart a little more than she thought it would.
She wasn't quite sure what she was doing there if she was completely honest. It seemed that despite it all, despite her previous devil-may-care attitude and disciplinary record, despite her latest misgivings and dismal personal life, someone was willing to trust her. Gandalf. Wookiee. Both had been formative figures in the last few months, maybe subconsciously filling parts of the void her father had left. He had joined the Navy out of a sense of duty and to a certain extent, so had she. Perhaps initially out of a sense of duty to her name, to HIS name but serving had become an integral part of who she had been, of the adventure she and August had embarked so many years ago. Maybe it was time she regained some of that pride, justified that trust to herself and proved none of it was misplaced.
Clutching August's dog tags in her fist, she turned her attention to the ship's Commander wiping his brow at the top of the room. They apparently had not found a way to fix the air conditioning yet.
It all sounded simple. The SS Layton had become disabled and had wandered into foreign territory. Their orders were to return fire, should they witness any MiG hostile acts in the area. This was the real thing, what they’d been trained for. Huntsman and Hook, Hood and Chicago would front the air support mission for a rescue operation at sea. She and Butch would provide back-up if and when required. For the time being, they were to stay on the Catapult on ready alert.
Neither Huntsman nor Hook had been happy with the arrangement and Humbert, still running high on his first place, had caught Wookie as he was leaving the room to express his objection to her involvement. Wookiee had told him to shove it and that small act alone helped to settle Emma's confidence somewhat.
Despite the comforting feel of the tags she had not let go of, the following fifteen minutes were a nasty cocktail of nerves fueled by the nail-biting wait while Emma and Neal settled into their cockpit, the increasingly worried voices from the two pairs in the air and the unbearable heat under Emma’s helmet. She was going to throw up any second if she didn’t get a better grip on her emotions.
What had started as a potential confrontation with two MiGs quickly turned into four then five enemy dots on the radar and tensions rising exponentially. Mayday calls soon sounded, Hood and Chicago had been hit and had to eject. Order for them and a rescue helicopter to launch immediately followed. That was it, they were up. Emma slipped August's tags back into her breast pocket and signaling her readiness to the Landing Signal Officer, her jet was fired off the deck and rocketed into the sky.
Within seconds, they were airborne and on the way to joining the fight. Emma's stomach had settled real high in her throat and would not be dislodged for love nor money. Swan was thirty seconds away and five bandits were on Huntsman's tail. He was in trouble. No further support would be provided, it would all be over by the time anybody else could be sent. Huntsman narrowly avoided a missile thanks to a good eye from Hook and some impressive aerial acrobatics but the situation was unsustainable. Just as Emma finally reached him – supersonic speed had never felt as slow – Huntsman was begging for her to engage and help him out.
That’s when it all really went to shit. At Butch’s shout that there was a sixth MiG, right on her tail, Emma turned around and a second later, she had flown right through the jetwash of a second one. The beeping sound, the plane spinning… It was all too close, still too fresh in her memory and although she eventually managed to stabilize the jet, Emma lost it. She had to disengage. It was no good. They were wrong. They were all wrong. She could not do this. Not now, maybe never. Their trust? All misplaced.
Butch's frantic calls to re-engage were nothing but white noise and Emma closed her eyes for a second. She allowed herself a moment of self-pity before all her promises to try came rushing back to her. Maybe she should have quit but there was a reason she didn't get on the first plane out of Nevada after her last conversation with Regina. There was a reason she came back to graduate after her talk with Gandalf. There was a reason Ruby's words echoed in her head. Regina had believed in her, had asked her not to live in her father's shadow. She could not have left his behind just to start living in August's.
Reaching into her pocket and pulling the tags out, Emma ran her fingers over August Booth's indented name in a gesture that had become her source of comfort and grounding. She tightened her fist to the point of pain, the steel digging into her palm despite the plastic ring around them. He would have hated it, yes. But he would have done it. There were no two ways about it: if she didn't get back in they were all dead. Emma banked right and dove back in.
Five minutes later and it was a somewhat different ballgame. Between them, Huntsman and Swan had managed to eliminate two of the MiG, but the remaining three were engaged in a three-dimensional dance they were finding hard to keep up with when suddenly Butch shouted that a fourth bandit was coming up on their tail and was lining them up. Huntsman was being fired upon from the right, cannon fire blazing and hitting his engine dead on. Emma was forced into a split second decision: break off and try to shake the MiG on her tail or stay and support Huntsman, who was now running on a single engine and being chased by a third bandit. She was not going to leave her wingman.
Tuning out Butch's pleas to get out of there, Emma took control of the situation and ordered Huntsman to break hard right and fired, hitting the target. She still had one on her ass though and she narrowly avoided cannon shots directed at her. Her instincts taking over, Emma slowed the plane down. "I'm bringing him in closer. I'll hit the brakes. He'll fly right by us." Butch's incredulous cries fell on deaf ears and soon, the MiG was indeed flying right underneath them, lining up perfectly for her to take a shot. Bullseye. Now two against two and their prospects not looking too well, the remaining MiGs bugged out and excited shouts sounded over the comms at the news.
Emma took a big gulp of air and sighed in relief. Fuck, that had been close. Adrenaline pumping through her veins like never before, she led both planes back to the aircraft carrier. The mischief barely concealed in her voice, she addressed the Primary Flight Control Bridge.
“Mustang, this is Swan, requesting fly-by for two.”
"Negative, the pattern is full" the air boss replied with the hint of a smile, taking a sip of his much-deserved coffee.
Emma exploded in peals of laughter. They had danced this particular dance before and it was time for one more for old times sake. Air Boss Johnston placed his cup back on his desk. Better safe than sorry with that goddamn woman.
------------------
Climbing out of their cockpits, all four pilots were grabbed and hugged and lifted and for once, Emma didn’t mind the physical contact nor the display of testosterone that much. Adrenaline was a powerful drug.
Hood and Chicago's still soaking wet faces and flight suits after having been airlifted from the water were the first one she recognized once her feet were back on the ground and they threw themselves at each other, the exhilaration threatening to overtake them all. Nothing like fire to forge relationships. Even Huntsman gave into a rare moment of sentimentality, pointing at Emma.
“YOU! You’re still dangerous… but you can be my wingman anytime.”
Emma told him to fuck off, he could be hers… and hugged him regardless.
------------------
Once the commotion had died down and Emma had finally been left alone in the locker room, she sat down with her head in between her knees, deeply breathing in and out to slow her heart rate down yet she could not keep the wide and disbelieving grin off her face.
This is how a euphoric Wookiee eventually found her, his booming voice echoing in the narrow room.
“Can you believe this shit, Swan? After a stunt like this, the sky is the limit. You name it. A medal. Anything you want. Anything. The other side denies the incident, but that means fuck all. Congratulations.” The CO shook her hand, beaming smile firmly in place. “They gave you your choice of duty. Where do you think you want to go?”
“Thank you, Sir. I… I thought of being an instructor, Sir.”
“Top Gun? God help us. At least, you’ll be out of my hair, I guess.”
Emma bit her lip to prevent herself from laughing. She didn't miss the glint in Caulfield's eye. There hadn't been any hair on Wookiee's head for decades. The man had a sense of humor after all.
“Yes, Sir.”
Two weeks later, Emma Nolan was sitting at the counter of the Rabbit Hole, mindlessly sipping a cold beer. She had arrived back three days earlier and was enjoying the calm before the storm. Her request to be posted back in Fallon had been granted and against all odds, she now found herself the newest flight instructor on base. Walking into the BOQ again had been strange. Thankfully, her new lodgings were situated relatively far from where she and Pinocchio had stayed, which had softened the emotional onslaught somewhat. Regardless, Emma was looking forward to going house-hunting off base. For a new start, she needed a new living environment. Maybe somewhere out in the desert.
Once the sense of euphoria she had felt back on the USS Ronald Reagan had subsided, once she had found herself alone in her quarters, she had seriously questioned her decision. She had always been impulsive, sometimes rash and August had always been there to rein her in, thrashing out plans and ideas until he was satisfied that Emma was sure she knew what she was doing. Then it had been Regina. The older woman had become her pillar of strength, accepting, challenging her at every turn and loving her. In the end, Emma had not been ready. Not after August. But now?
She had wondered if this was the right thing for her, if her desire for revenge over fate was not driving her back to a place, a situation, memories that would overwhelm her in the end. She had wondered if this was not too much, too soon. She had fallen in love here, found a piece of herself she did not dream she would ever find, a relative peace of mind. Yet, Fallon would always be the place where she had faced the biggest upheaval in her adult life. Would this new phase in her life really help her move on? Was it reasonable for her to be retracing alone the steps she and August had taken together? In her efforts to prove to herself that she was not a runner anymore, had she taken things too far the other way?
The bar was quiet, the only other customers a young couple paying more attention to each other than anything happening around them. The barman approached her to check if Emma needed anything else and at the blonde’s nod pulled a bottle of Budweiser out of the fridge before uncapping it and placing it in front of her.
Emma thanked him with a smile and brought it to her parched lips, her eyes drifting back to the newspaper she had been skimming.
She was engrossed in an article about the latest global warming talks when her ears perked up at a familiar sound.
You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips
And there's no tenderness like before in your fingertips
You're trying hard not to show it
Startled, Emma deliberately put down her beer and got up from the stool she was perched on. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary as she scanned the room and she shook her head, willing her heart rate to slow down. The loved-up couple must be Righteous Brothers fans, there was just no other explanation. Maybe there was one, but it was so unfathomable that…
“Hello, Emma Nolan.”
She would recognize that sultry voice anywhere. Her heart skipped a beat every time she heard it and Emma closed her eyes, a smile threatening to break on her lips. She turned towards the voice, conflicting emotions warring in her mind. The dread of opening her eyes and having all her hopes dashed was overwhelming her, a sense of panic seeping into her bones when the voice resounded again.
“I heard the best of the best were coming be back here, so...”
Emma’s smile went from tentative to breathtaking as she opened her bright green eyes and took in the tailored suit clad brunette in front of her, arms crossed over her chest and hip cocked against the doorway. Her hair was slightly longer than the last time she had seen her and the kink in the dark tresses added to her beauty. Regina was never as gorgeous as she was now standing in front of her, as vulnerable and uncertain of what to say as Emma had ever seen her. Regina was here.
“Are you back too?”
So many questions were spinning around her head making her dizzy. What had happened to Washington? Did Regina come back because of her? Did she manage to get a transfer back here, even with her promotion? Did she give up her promotion? They could address all this later, the only thing that mattered right now was that Regina was looking at her, a tentative smile on her lips and a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
It was as if Regina had read her mind. “I live here Lieutenant… Just because I got the job doesn't mean that I took it. It was always more my mother's dream than mine to climb up the ladder of power. I'm in it mostly for the science… Call me a hopeless romantic, Savior, but I was hoping that our paths may cross again.”
Emma cleared her throat and hesitantly approached the older woman, her hand extended towards her. Regina did not hesitate and took it, entwining their fingers together and pulling the blonde into her. Emma reacted immediately and slid her free arm around the brunette’s waist, closing the distance between them to nothing.
“This could be complicated. You know… on the first one, I crashed and burned.”
Regina ran her hand over the blonde’s forehead, pushing a stray strand of hair out of the way and staring into sparkling green eyes she raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“And the second?”
“I don't know,” Emma leaned forward. She nuzzled the older woman’s skin, a mere breath separating their lips, “but it's looking good so far.”