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Things, and the Daggers, settled down after the mission. Maverick fought tooth and nail to convince Cyclone to make the Dagger detachment a permanent feature. His well of favors had long dried up since Admiral Kazansky was in the ground. But, somehow (and Rooster wasn't sure why he was surprised), Maverick got it to work.
So they worked (and played a little too) There was Friendsgiving at the Hard Deck, regular weekend meet ups, and long nights after work complaining about students, games and fires on the beach. Okay, they played a lot.
It was mid December; practically Christmas. Fanboy and Fritz organized a secret Santa gift exchange for everyone. Rooster had gotten Coyote. It was supposed to be a secret, but he had no idea what to get the other pilot. So he decided to ask Hangman.
Hangman, like pretty much everyone else, lived on base. But everyone else on base lived in the same little neighborhood. Except Hangman. He wasn't much further away, and it was probably just housing lottery luck. Rooster had never been over, but he had an address. He pulled into the driveway, knocked on the door, and a little kid answered.
She wasn't that little. Old enough to answer a door at least.
"Sorry," Rooster said, confused, "I think I got the wrong house."
"Okay," the girl shrugged and closed the door again.
He went back to the Bronco and texted Phoenix.
Rooster: bagman is 276 coral ave right
Phoenix: yea why
Rooster: ok thanks
Rooster knocked on the door, again. The girl opened it, again.
"Are you lost?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
The kid did… kinda look like Hangman. Similar facial structure. Her eyes were a different color. When Rooster didn't say anything, the girl scrunched up her face into a look of what Rooster could only describe as "annoyed disgust." Whoever she was, she was definitely related to Hangman. Rooster had been on the other end of that look many, many times.
"Dad! There's some weirdo at the door!" She hollered.
The kid didn't close the door this time. Instead, she waited and glared while Rooster just stood there. Quietly processing things.
"Bubblegum, get away from the door if there's a weirdo," a familiar drawl instructed.
Rooster cleared his throat and said, "Hangman."
Hangman looked up at him. He made the same "annoyed disgust" face before it melted into something more neutral. Hangman and Bubblegum stood side by side, hand in hand. Both of them stared at him. It was decidedly creepy.
"Foghorn," Hangman nodded, "What brings you by?"
"I got Coyote for secret Santa, and I don’t know what to get him," Rooster said.
"My, my," Hangman clicked his tongue, "Cheating at secret Santa? C'mon inside."
The Seresins stepped aside to let Rooster in. Hangman led them further with Bubblegum fiercely stuck to his side. Rooster wondered if that's why he called her that.
The living room had a tree up; Rooster had seen it in the window from outside. There were lights wrapped around it that went all the way around the room, occasionally wrapping around a lamp or table too. How the Grinch Stole Christmas (the one with Jim Carrey) was paused on the TV. Rooster was a little disappointed there were no photos up. He was a little more than curious about Hangman's kid.
"So uh," Rooster coughed, "What do I get Coyote?"
"He paints," Bubblegum piped up.
"Yeah, tiny travel kit of paints would be good," Hangman agreed, "Bonnie, go get that one your mom sent you with."
Bubblegum (Bonnie?) hopped up and took off.
"Cait, her mom, got her a little like paint case," Hangman explained, "Take a picture of it and look for something similar. Or whatever."
"You have a kid," Rooster blurted out finally.
Hangman nodded.
"She's like a whole person."
"Well, yeah," he laughed, "Kids are people."
"Um, yeah of course," Rooster grinned sheepishly, "How uh how old?"
"I'm 12," Bonnie announced, "You shouldn’t talk about me when I'm not here. It's rude, Foghorn."
She handed Rooster a little metal suitcase. It was about the size of an Altoids tin. He carefully opened it. One side was clearly for mixing paints; the two wells were stained already with various colors. The other side had eight pans with hard paint in them.
Rooster thanked her and snapped a few photos of it.
"Mom got it online," Bonnie produced a little business card, "And I got to pick the colors."
"Um, thanks," Rooster said.
"So what else are you doing today?" Hangman asked.
Rooster shrugged noncommittally.
"I could use some help hanging lights on the roof," Hangman told him.
"Aw, but I wanted to go on the roof," Bonnie huffed.
"Sure," Rooster agreed.
Bonnie chucked wads of lights up at them. Rooster and Hangman sat on the roof and detangled them.
"Ask your questions, Bradshaw," Hangman hummed.
Rooster decided on a less obvious question, "You always go all out for Christmas?"
Hangman grinned, "When I'm home, I usually travel to her mom's for the holiday. S’our first Christmas with just us. If I'm home, I get Bon over summer break."
"That's exciting," Rooster said honestly.
It really was. He remembered flying out to see Maverick one Christmas without his mom. She would be flying out a few days later, but her flight got grounded because of a blizzard. It was just them for Christmas. Maverick had pulled out all the stops. It looked like Hangman was doing the same thing.
Another bundle of lights landed in front of them.
"Incoming!" Bonnie shouted.
"You gotta say that before you throw!" Hangman called down to her.
"Sorry!"
She wasn't. They could hear her cackling below.
With the lights hung, and a little watercolor kit ordered (Bonnie chose the colors), Rooster left.
He got a text when he got home.
Hangman: Bonnie says it was nice meeting you
Hangman: She says she’s gonna keep calling you foghorn lol
Rooster: better than bradbrad or roo lol tell her it was nice meeting her too
The initial texts opened a floodgate. They didn't stop texting. They talked at work; they talked at the Hard Deck. It wasn't… unwelcome conversation. Hangman was surprisingly pleasant. Rooster didn't find his feathers getting ruffled (as often). Hangman, as it turned out, was an acquired taste. They sent memes inside and outside the group chat. Rooster was actually getting worried he was getting addicted to his phone with how much time he was spending on it.
Maverick even cracked a joke about it when he was at the hanger.
"Oh, uh, sorry," Rooster mumbled.
He set the phone back down and went to help.
"Who you texting?" Maverick asked, innocently.
"Hangman," Rooster shrugged.
"Wait, really?"
Rooster scoffed, "Yeah? Why is everyone so surprised about that?"
"Nothing," Maverick said quickly, "No reason."
"I can change my opinion about people!"
"Yes, you can, honey," Mav nodded.
They worked for a few more minutes in silence.
"D'you know Hangman has a kid?" Rooster said, not at all casually.
"It's in his file," the older pilot snorted, "I read them."
Daggermas rolled around. It was a very large celebration. Especially with the revelation about Hangman's daughter. Everyone was enamored. Phoenix asked if she was an actor Hangman hired; Bonnie said he was too cheap for a lie that big. She was also quite the dart player. Rooster noticed she managed to con Fritz out of some money.
Penny graciously loaned them the Hard Deck again. She, Maverick, and Amelia were invited anyway. It made sense. Plus, they said they’d clean up after themselves.
Coyote loved the little paints. Neither Bonnie or Hangman pointed out that they had helped Rooster pick them out. Rooster was pretty sure he knew though. Bonnie had the same exact kit. Fritz had gotten Rooster some new Hawaiian shirts. One had neon dinosaurs, one had Nicolas Cage’s face a million times, and the other was a bunch of cat butts.
"You're not surprised," Phoenix mumbled as she nudged Rooster.
Rooster doubled down and played dumb, "About my secret Santa? Fritz isn't exactly subtle."
"Bronwyn," she pinched him right on the underside of his bicep.
"Ow! Fee!" Rooster hissed.
"Spill," she warned, pinching the air in front of his face as a warning.
"Okay, okay," Rooster whispered, "I uh stopped by last week and met her."
"On purpose?"
"No, I was uh cheating at secret Santa," Rooster admitted.
He hoped the admission would shift Phoenix's attention.
"Is this why you guys are all buddy-buddy now?" she asked.
It did not work.
"I can have friends," Rooster scoffed.
Phoenix gave him a look.
"I can have friends I don't want to have sex with, Fee," he rolled his eyes, "I have you."
"Just saying," his friend shrugged, “Kids make it complicated.”
Hangman skipped their New Year celebration, but he texted Rooster all night. He came over, albeit with Coyote, after he dropped Bonnie off at the airport to go back to her mom's. Eventually, as time wore on, they were spending most of their free time together. If Rooster wasn't with Maverick, he could be found in the same vicinity as Hangman.
They were… Close. Like, really close. Rooster, voluntarily, would talk about his childhood and mom. Hangman mostly just talked about Bronwyn. Her grades, her hobbies, everything. Caitlin, her mom, and her family took Hangman in after Bonnie was born. His own parents couldn't fathom why he wouldn't marry Caitlin to raise their child together. So they disowned him.
"That's so -hic- fuck - hic- fucked up," Rooster slurred.
They were at Hangman's, drunk as skunks. Rooster was draped across Hangman's couch. The other pilot was sitting cross legged on the coffee table in front of Rooster.
"Right! We cope -hic- coparent jus' fine," Hangman scoffed.
His Texas twang really came through after five or seven drinks.
"'Sides I'd've nev uh never enlisted if they'd've hadn't cut me out," he continued.
"Wait, oh, really?" Rooster sat up to look up Hangman properly.
He winced and wavered at the sudden movement.
"Shit, man," Hangman grabbed Rooster's arm to steady him, "You good?"
The touch burned on Rooster's skin. He couldn’t look away from Hangman and the concern painted on the other pilot’s face. Those green eyes were a little glossy from the drinks, but they were still sparkly. Like sea glass. Rooster could really just lean in… If he wanted to. He really wanted to. Rooster flushed, but at least he was drunk. His face was already a little ruddy anyway.
"Yeah, yeah," he stammered, "You, uh -hic- what were we talking about?"
"I don't 'member," Hangman laughed.
It was infectious; Rooster started chuckling too.
"Maybe you should stay here," Hangman offered.
Rooster nodded in agreement. He laid back down on the couch and covered his eyes with his arm.
"On the -hic- on the couch, obviously," Hangman added.
"M'already laying down," Rooster mumbled.
Hangman threw a blanket over the top of him and shuffled off to bed. Rooster moved his arm and stared at the ceiling. Rooster had to slam on the brakes and get back on that perch. Hangman had a kid; he coparented from across the country. Rooster and his unnecessary drama were, well, unnecessary.
"Hey! Rooster! C'mere," Hangman waved him over.
It was March, and the weather was spectacular. The ocean was still a little chilly. So the latest game involved the losers getting tossed in the water. It had been a few rounds, and Rooster still wasn't sure how it worked.
"What's up?" Rooster asked as he jogged over.
Hangman handed him his phone. Coyote had lost the last round, so he had to be tossed. Hangman wanted a recording to send to Bonnie. Rooster was happy to oblige. After he recorded Coyote dragging Hangman into the Pacific with him, Rooster flipped the camera around and waved for the video.
“I can see it on your face,” Phoenix poked Rooster’s forehead.
“What?” he looked up from his phone at her.
“We’re having breakfast, and you’re texting Hangman. Of all people!”
“His kid sent him a meme to send to me.”
It was a Looney Tunes clip compilation of Foghorn Leghorn. Rooster didn’t have the sound on, but he was watching it.
“You really like him,” she said flatly, “It’s not gonna go anywhere with a kid involved.”
“We’re not doing anything, Fee,” Rooster rolled his eyes, “We hang out sometimes.”
“Every weekend.”
“Fine, a lot. Look, I know. Okay?”
His mom didn’t date much when Rooster was younger. Off and on she’d go on dates, but Maverick was the only guy she ever brought home. Rooster could live with being Maverick in this scenario. Except he wanted to take Hangman out on dates. And kiss him. Maverick didn’t do that with his mom (and if he ever did, Rooster didn’t want to know).
“Right,” Phoenix leveled him with a steady gaze, “Single mom. I forgot.”
In the blink of an eye, it was already May. Half of the Daggers were deployed. Rooster included. It was short; only a four month tour. And they only had two more to go. Hangman was originally supposed to go, but he would have missed most of his summer with Bonnie.
And Rooster couldn’t let that happen. Well, he could have. But he didn’t want to. Whenever Hangman talked about his kid (which was often now that everyone knew), his whole face lit up. And when he’d get home, he’d get to hear all about Hangman’s summer and watch his face.
His laptop started to ring. They were in port with reliable wifi. Greece. Most of the crew had gone ashore for liberty. Rooster tabbed over to Discord. Hangman had started a group video call. Rooster didn’t recognize the other account. The picture was some pink cartoon princess.
“Hangman,” Rooster grinned. “Isn’t it late for you?”
“It’s only like 1pm here,” Hangman scoffed, “Don’t you know about time zones?”
The third video feed blinked into existence. It was Bonnie.
“Foghorn!” she called out.
“Hey, Bonbon,” Rooster greeted.
“I uh… Dadsaidyoutookhisdeploymentsowedgetthewholesummer,” she said quickly.
Rooster blinked at the screen, confused. Hangman chuckled.
“Slower, Bubblegum,” he instructed.
Bonnie made the, patented (at this point), “annoyed disgust” face.
“Thanks,” she said finally, “For taking Dad’s tour so I can spend the whole summer with him.”
Rooster grinned, “Yeah, of course. Anything for my favorite Seresin.”
“Well, technically my last name is Ellis, so that would make Dad your favorite Seresin,” Bonnie pointed out.
“Huh, I guess you’re right.”
Rooster already knew that before he had said it. Hangman’s video was a little pixely, but Rooster could see his eyes crinkle in delight.
“I’m always right,” the teen scoffed.
She was 13 now. Her birthday was in April. Which Hangman would have also probably missed if Rooster hadn’t offered to take his tour.
“Okay, Bon, I’m kicking you off the call,” Hangman hummed.
“Okay! Bye! See you in a few weeks! Foghorn, I’ll see you in a few months!” she waved until she disconnected.
“Are you sure she’s your kid?” Rooster joked, “She’s so much nicer that you.”
Hangman rolled his eyes and flipped him off, “Eat a dick, Bradshaw.”
The bickering wasn’t heated anymore. Sometime, after one of many drunken heart to hearts, it had become fond.
“So Greece,” Hangman continued.
“Yeah,” Rooster said, “What about it?”
He adjusted his position in his bunk and rested his laptop on his chest. It wasn’t a very flattering angle, but it made Hangman laugh.
Once the laughter died down, Hangman asked, “You don’t wanna take liberty and get thrown out of every bar in Crete?”
“Not really,” Rooster shrugged, “I think I’ve spent every weekend since January leading up to this tour drunk on your couch. Gotta dry out somehow.”
“Yeah, hey uh speaking of my couch,” Hangman began.
Rooster had no idea where he was going with that.
“Well, no. I guess speaking of weekends,” he backtracked, “I was thinking about… A day on a weekend. More like a night really.”
“What?” Rooster was confused.
Maybe his connection was bad because none of that made sense.
“Some night when you’re back maybe we could get dinner,” Hangman said.
“Oh,” Rooster blinked, even more confused, “What about Bonnie? She’ll be with you when I’m back.”
Hangman frowned. They both stared at each other in silence.
“You’re right,” Hangman said finally, “Probably a bad idea.”
“No, like… What’s she gonna do? While we’re out? You can’t like… Leave her alone,” Rooster explained, “I’d like to though! Get… Dinner when I’m back. On a weekend night. With you. And Bonnie too.”
It was Hangman’s turn to be confused. Once Rooster had finished his thought, Hangman’s face was cracked in two with a big smile.
“I think the first date should be just us,” Hangman told him, almost seriously. But Rooster could hear the smirk in his tone, “And if I decide I like you, I’ll introduce you to my daughter.”
Rooster laughed loudly. It echoed around his bunk.
“Okay deal. It’s a date, Hangman.”
“I’ll see you in a couple of months.”
It was mid-July. Rooster had been back for a few days. Maverick picked him up and brought him home when the boat docked. That had been the plan when he left; no need to change it.
It wasn’t exactly radio silence between him and Hangman since he got back. But it was less than normal; it was worse than before. Hangman wasn’t even responding to the group chat, let alone Rooster’s messages.
Rooster: home. This weekend good?
That text had been sent on Wednesday, and it was now Saturday night. Rooster’s stomach rumbled. He didn’t have much for groceries. Mostly because he was too busy thinking about his date that didn’t seem to be happening. The only thing he did have was the dessert he had made for Hangman to take back home for Bonnie. His mom’s quick and dirty peanut butter fudge.
Rooster wondered if something had happened. He hoped not. He should call just to make sure. He pulled up Hangman’s contact and almost started the call when a text popped up.
Hangman: sorry. Bonnie’s had flu all week. Next weekend promise
Rooster: ok no problem. Need anything?
Hangman: actually yea if you dont mind
Rooster: just send me a list
The list wasn’t long. Rooster showered and packed the treat before he headed to the store. He stopped at one of the Chinese restaurants for some carry out too.
“Damn, Bradshaw,” Hangman whistled, “You didn’t have to get all this.”
“I’m just… Really excited for our date,” Rooster told him sheepishly.
“This ain’t a date,” Hangman snorted.
“Why not? We’ve got dinner,” Rooster held up the bags of Chinese food.
“C’mon, you could get sick, Rooster.”
“That’s fine. We’ve got medicine too,” he held up the grocery bag.
“You really wanna stay?” Hangman asked.
“I mean… Yeah. I know you said you gotta feel me out before I meet Bonnie, but I think -”
Hangman grabbed his face and kissed him. As much as Rooster wanted to throw his arms around the other man, he couldn’t drop their food. With his fingers tangled in the plastic handles, Rooster feebly grabbed at Hangman’s waist. It was quick and chaste; there was a teenager in the house after all. But it was perfect. As Hangman pulled away, Rooster gave him a peck on the nose.
“Bronwyn’s first always,” Hangman whispered.
“Yeah, I know,” Rooster said sincerely.
“Then me, but I guess you can be third. And once she’s not puking her guts out, we can all do something.”
“But one of these days on the weekend,” Rooster grinned.
“Night, actually,” Hangman sniffed.
“Right, right. Another one of these nights on the weekend.”
“We can have a proper date.”