Chapter Text
August is never too early for hot chocolate, at least that’s what Bob says when he orders hot chocolate at a greasy spoon in Mt. Shasta. His shrugged argument is enough for Phoenix to follow suit and order the same in addition to their artery clogging dinner. They’d finally ended the first leg of their 1,353 mile journey from North Island to their new home in Washington and are starving. It had been a long drive, starting that morning at 09:00 (an hour later than they’d planned) and going all the way until they made it to Mt. Shasta to stay the night in a cheap motel off the freeway.
“Mmm, that’s good.” Bob sighs as he takes a sip of the hot chocolate when the waiter sets it in front of him.
Phoenix only hums in agreement after taking a sip of her own hot chocolate, chasing it with a sip of water. Bob watches the odd combination of hot chocolate and ice water chaser with confusion but doesn’t vocalize it; He’s sure his confusion is on full display and Phoenix doesn’t acknowledge it, simply continuing the ritual in contented silence, so he continues sipping his.
Neither had much to say in the past few hours of driving other than a suggestion to stop earlier than they’d planned to keep from falling asleep at the wheel. Now they sit in a booth at the late night diner, set conveniently next to the motel, hoping the sugar rush will be enough to keep them awake long enough for dinner before crashing into their temporary beds. Phoenix pulls out her phone to shoot off a quick text to Maverick letting them know where they’re staying, copying the message to send to her brother and father.
“Did you text your parents?” she asks Bob, setting her phone on the table. Bob nods, taking a look out the window when a semi blows past them on the interstate, catching his attention. For a moment he wonders why a jet is taking off so late at night until he is greeted with the run down neighborhood rather than the undulating sea.
From where they sit he can’t see the motel, but he can see the busy street in front of it and the gas station on the other side. They’re close enough to the interstate that it’s almost audible inside the diner. Almost. After the 12 hours of driving and 20 hours of choppers and C-130’s the day before, adding in the constant hum and boom of the carrier for the past 4 months, a constant buzz has occupied his ears in the absence of noise that the diner almost fills making the road noise blend in.
They didn’t get much of an explanation as to why they were suddenly flying home until they stepped off the second C-130 in North Island and were fully briefed on their new assignment before being shuffled off to pack. To say that the recent 2 days have been a whirlwind in every sense of the word is an understatement.
“Bob?” Phoenix questions, noticing his fixated look out the window. She’ll admit the past few wall rattling sounds of semi’s passing on the freeway had her momentarily back on the carrier and she wonders if that’s where he is as well. He doesn’t look to her, or acknowledge her call so she tries again. He finally looks back to her, looking surprised and almost confused. “You okay?” She asks, noting the visible exhaustion and confusion.
He sniffs, pulling off his glasses and setting them down on the table to rubs his eyes, then nods. “Tired.” He says, his exhaustion echoing in his words.
“Think you can stay awake long enough to eat?” she chuckles, watching him take a long sip from his mug like it’s coffee.
“Hopefully.” He scoffs, pushing his glasses up and blinking slowly. He knows it’s too much hope to put into a mug of hot chocolate but he does anyway, hoping the sugar will act quickly and keep him awake long enough.
Phoenix yawns, feeling the effects of the day as well. She doesn’t say it out loud but she puts the same hope into her hot chocolate and sudden temperature drop of the icy chaser to get through dinner.
They could have taken their time packing up and driving, giving themselves time to stop and see the country they’re flying past and take a rest after their deployment, but they both agreed to get up the coast as soon as possible so they could take some time to adjust and catch up with the others before work begins. ‘And take a nap longer than here to Germany’ Bob had said when Phoenix’s brother and father, Jackson and Randall, came to help them pack.
The assignment is something they’d only heard rumor of for quite some time and had only recently been finalized. No one really knew it was happening until they were all, once again, called away from their own squadrons back to North Island and were offered the new assignment. Their temporary detachment as the Dagger Squad over a year ago had been somehow assembled to become the permanent Dagger Squadron.
It didn’t take much deliberation to accept—especially at the proposition that Maverick would still be their CO. It took a few more months for everything to be finalized and ready, but the call finally came in and they were given three weeks to gather their things together and move to their new home base; Naval Air Station Whidbey Island.
A week later nearly everyone had moved in; Coyote, Hangman, Fanboy, and Rooster were the first ones followed by Maverick and Payback within a few days.
Bob and Phoenix had been on a mission in the eastern Atlantic Ocean and didn’t receive their call until they were climbing out of their jet after a job well done (and a sketchy, foggy landing) on deck almost a week later. Their CO gave them at most 5 minutes to celebrate and finish checking off with the deck officer before calling them to her office below deck. They were ordered with little explanation to strip their bunks and board the helo that would take them to a station in Spain then their first C-130 would bring them to Norfolk Naval Station from which a second C-130 would take them to North Island. It wasn’t until they made it stateside that they were told the finer details of their new assignment though they speculated on what it was between trying to sleep on the flights.
When they were told they would be the last ones to arrive they contacted Maverick and Rooster to check-in who, unbeknownst to them, had decided to make a visit to an old friend in Portland for a couple of days along with Fanboy who’d gone to visit his father in Vancouver. Maverick instantly offered to stay a few days longer and drive with them the rest of the way to Whidbey Island. Bob was ready to politely wave away the offer before Phoenix stepped in and accepted. Now he’s glad she did; Mt. Shasta is still a good 10 hours away from Whidbey Island and between the 5 of them they could switch drivers for at least part of the way.
“I’m sure I can convince Mickey and Bradley to trade driving duties for a few hours.” Maverick had offered before asking to be kept updated on their progress.
True to their word they sent him a text each time they stopped and when they started, sending the same message to their families before moving on. Bob had sent a message on to his family right as they pulled up to the motel and had already gotten replies of well wishes and an ask for a call sometime tomorrow from his mother to which he happily promised he would call.
Finally the waitress comes, balancing the large round tray full of plates and drinks. In one fluid motion she kicks open the portable stand to rest the tray on and spreads out the plates between the two.
“Anything else I can get you?” She asks, looking between them. They shake their heads and thank her. Phoenix reaches for the ketchup and pours it in a corner of her plate near her fries while Bob salts his burger.
They eat in a companionable silence, the only sounds being silverware clinking and chewing between yawns.
Cars pass the diner on the busy road, larger trucks rattling the tables and their contents as they pass. It’s barely 22:00 but it feels far later as they make their way through their meals. The diner is quiet with only a few tables occupied on the side closer to the road. Employees take their time in cleaning the booths and tables in the area closer to the kitchens, chatting amongst themselves as they clean and prepare for the late night.
Only one other group comes in for desserts after a movie they’d just finished watching, talking and laughing as they wait to be seated. Thankfully they are brought to the furthest booth from Bob and Phoenix.
“What time do you want to get started tomorrow?” Bob asks after a while, setting down his burger to wipe his hands on a napkin. Phoenix finishes chewing her sandwich, pondering the question.
“If we get on the road at 07:00 we might be able to beat some of the traffic and if we play it right we can get to base before the sun goes down.”
“So go to bed as soon as we’re done here then? Got it.” Bob nods, picking up a fry.
“I’m not complaining.” Phoenix scoffs.
Packing up and cleaning their apartments had taken the rest of the day they’d returned home taking every last ounce of energy the pair had—even with Jackson and Randall helping. Without meaning to they both slept past when they intended to be awake making their departure later than planned. In response, the amount of caffeine they both downed before getting onto the interstate was probably enough to kill them but neither wanted to delay their departure any further.
That decision had started to catch up with them around Sacramento only half an hour after stopping in Kettleman City for gas and snacks, not making the rest of the trip much easier.
“You might be right.” Bob says dropping a fry to his plate, shaking out his nodding head. Phoenix looks up at him with glazed eyes like a mirror. “I can’t stay awake enough to eat.”
Phoenix offers a weak chuckle that bubbles into giggles then uncontrolled laughter that shouldn’t have been warranted by his comment. He chuckles out of curiosity for her outburst and because of her contagious laugh.
She tries to hold it back, nearly calming enough to explain before laughing again. It takes a few tries before she can take a deep breath and not laugh.
“I.. I’m sorry. I don’t know why that was so funny.” She giggles, wiping a tear from her eye. “I think, I’m blaming the jet lag.”
“I think it’s more than jet lag.” Bob scoffs, holding back his own laughter. “Should we call it a night?”
“I think so.”
Neither can help but laugh again when they try to catch the waitress’ attention for their checks, their attempts becoming increasingly stupid. The waitress watches them amusedly as they pay, neither having the coordination they should for only being 22:24.
Receipts in hand they head back to their rooms, quickly saying goodnight and setting alarms for the next morning. It’s refreshing to finally be out of the clothes they’d been driving in all day though Phoenix barely is able to will herself to change clothes before crawling under the covers. The beds aren’t much more comfortable than the ones on the carrier but both are asleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows, even without the rocking of the cruiser traversing the sea.
The next morning starts earlier than expected when a 5 am wake up call accidentally gets sent to all the rooms instead of the 3 they were supposed to be sent to. Rather than going back to sleep for another hour they both decide to head over to the diner for breakfast before heading out.
They’re sat at almost the same booth and switch their hot chocolate orders for coffee when asked. Bob notes that Phoenix continues her hot/cold combo but once again doesn’t say anything, though he does test it himself.
More coffee sits in their stomachs than food by the time they pay, with much more coordination than last night, as well as a solid plan in both their heads and phones. Checking out and heading to the gas station they top off their tanks and grab another round of caffeine and snacks before heading out, not taking a look back.
“California should be its own country.” Bob marvels as they pass the ‘Welcome to Oregon’ sign at 75 miles an hour. “You can drive for a day and still not be out of it. You may be a few hours from Oregon but you’re still in California! And it looks like a completely different state. From dry, hot, and over-crowded to cooler, green, and a big shift from vibrant and messy to a different messy and granola; it’s a completely different state!” He exclaims. They’d only been on the road for a good hour in which time the excessive amount of caffeine had kicked in enough that more complex thinking was capable.
Phoenix snickers from the other side of the line in agreement. “Northern and Southern California are two different states, that’s for sure.” After a moment of Bob silently marveling, she breaks the silence. “We’re stopping in Eugene, right?”
He can hear the plea in her voice to be out of the car and he fully agrees. However the map doesn’t yet agree.
“Yup, it’s about 3 hours away.” Bob confirms with a sigh.
“Three hours?” Phoenix groans.
“Unfortunately.”
“Just a few more hours and we can trade drivers.” Phoenix offers as a bright side.
“We can do that much.” Bob agrees, though neither are very encouraged.
A few minutes of silence pass, Bob taking another look at the map hoping he had been wrong on the ETA and Phoenix musing over what playlists she has downloaded. When Phoenix decides to end the call in favor for some music Bob turns on the radio, curious about the Oregon stations.
There’s not much difference, maybe just less stations than Coronado and more than Lemoore. He sticks with a classic rock station that has a good set list for a few songs before it unfortunately grows too distorted to be worthwhile. He searches for a different station to keep passing the time but it only seems to offer less and less appealing options. Finally he turns off the radio and turns on his phone for music instead.
Other than the radio, his 2003 Honda Civic only has a CD player and he’s played the entirety of the one CD he owns 5 times already—it’s a great album but there’s only so many times one can listen to the same 12 songs before it loses it’s staying power. He shares attention between staying alive and looking through his downloaded playlists but none of them fit what he’s looking for—not that he really knows what that is—so he switches to podcasts then audiobooks. Phoenix had bought a thriller mystery on their joint Audible account last month and he momentarily debates turning it on if not just to keep his brain engaged.
It was originally Bob’s account that he later offered to bring Phoenix in on after they started listening to an audiobook together and she mentioned wanting to listen to a another book but couldn’t justify the cost. She insisted she pay for half of the monthly subscription making it more worth the expense and he doesn’t mind saving some money so they never really buy a book unless it’s discounted or they’re dying to listen it. Other than that they just alternate use of the monthly credits. However, since he only created the account 5 months ago, there’s few options to choose from and he hasn’t looked at many of the free options.
He ultimately ends up scrolling past and hovers over a cozy mystery he’d bought two months ago before passing it as well. Scrolling through the 6 books they have he finally settles on a Tom Clancy novel he wanted to try. Sure Tom Clancy’s writing is what he lives on a daily basis, written with scary accurate knowledge for someone with no military background, but Bob had been curious about how well he’d done even if the main character is in the Air Force. It was on sale for $5 so he bought it after he used the monthly credit for a different novel that he for sure wanted to get.
Starting the book he switches back to the map, 2 hours and 15 minutes left.