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snowbellewells · 16 days ago

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The thrilling conclusion!! It’s all here now, so celebrate the Fourth with @kmomof4’s heart pounding read!! 💥☀️💥

Independence Day Ch. 3 July 4

We are back with the final ch, y'all!! I think you'll really like it!! Enjoy!!

Summary: Alien invaders attack on the Independence Day holiday weekend and a small group of survivors are called upon to defend Planet Earth.

Rating: T (mild language)

Words: Almost 11,800 of 34k

Tags: Inspired by Independence Day (movie)

On ao3 From Beginning / Current Ch

On Tumblr July 2 July 3

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @djlbg

@lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica

@laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter

@ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic

@elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90

@suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Chapter 3: July 4

Unable to sleep, Marco entered the hangar where the alien spaceship was. Even with the evidence before him, it was still a little hard to fathom. Robin had always just rolled his eyes at him whenever he tried to talk about what he read in The National Enquirer, and while vindication was sweet, the price paid for this one was much, much too high.

Suddenly, crashes and yells from behind him drew his attention. He turned away from the ship to see Robin staggering into the hangar, knocking things over and screaming in frustration.

“Robin!” Marco cried, running toward his son. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making a mess!” His words ended on a scream so filled with fury and despair that Marco was reminded of him as a little boy, when a hug, a pat on the back, and a few encouraging words were all that was needed to comfort his child. Unfortunately, those days were long behind them and Marco was at a loss of what to do for his son.

“We gotta burn resources,” Robin continued his tirade. “Dump toxic waste, pollute the air, destroy the ozone! If we make a big enough mess of this planet, they won’t want it and they’ll leave us alone!”

He dropped to the floor, his back up against a desk, and Marco ran to him.

“Robin, Robin, Robin,” he cried, “Don’t do this to yourself. Listen to me.”

Robin’s head lolled, his eyes glazed, but he finally fixed his attention on Marco.

“Alright. I’m listhening,” he slurred.

“Everyone loses faith at some point in their life. Robin!” When Robin’s eyes closed and he lifted a nearly empty bottle of whiskey to his lips, Marco took his son’s head in his hands. “Even me.”

Robin’s eyes snapped open at that and his brow furrowed in confusion. Marco continued quietly, “I haven’t spoken to God since your mother died.” Robin’s face was a picture of stunned disbelief, and Marco could only nod and shrug in confirmation of his words. “You see, sometimes,” he continued, “we have to remember what we still have.”

Robin sighed. “What do we still have, Papa?” He lifted his eyes to his father to see a blank but somewhat confused face. He obviously didn’t expect his question and needed to think of a plausible answer.

“Your health!” Marco exclaimed after a few moments, making Robin chuckle. “You still have your health,” he repeated, nodding decisively. “Come on, Robin. You need to sleep it off. Get off the cold concrete floor. Before you catch something.”

His papa grabbed him by the arms and was starting to help him stand when his words registered in Robin’s brain, bringing his movements to a sudden halt.

“What did you say?”

“What? About faith? Well…”

“No, no, no,” Robin interrupted, “the other part.” He lurched to his feet and grabbed Marco by the arms.

“What? I don’t want you to catch cold,” he repeated.

Robin slapped the palm of his hand against his forehead and let out a frustrated growl. “Gahhhhhhh!!!!!”

“What? What?”

Robin didn’t have time to explain. He tore himself away from Marco’s hands and ran down the ramp leading to the control platform and the ship.

“Genius,” he said, turning briefly and pointing at Marco.

“Genius?”

“My papa, a total genius,” he murmured, shaking the shoulder of the sleeping tech at the control platform. “Fred, wake up. We’ve got work to do. Get everybody down here right away.”

The young man lifted his head and started typing at the computer in front of him. Twenty minutes later, the once empty hangar was teeming with people. After the failure of the night before, everyone was trying to get a few hours of sleep before regrouping in the morning.

Killian arrived in the hangar, holding Emma’s hand, and carrying Henry in his other arm.

“See?” he asked the boy. “What’d I tell you?”

“Wow!” Henry exclaimed. “Does that thing really fly in outer space?”

“It most certainly does,” Killian assured him.

“It sure doesn’t look like it,” Henry said, shaking his head. Emma and Killian both chuckled.

“Everyone’s here,” Fred informed Robin who strode purposefully down the ramp toward the ship.

“Alright, Regina,” Isaac commented drily, “What’s this all about?”

“Oh, I have no idea,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders and then turning her attention to Robin who stood on the launch platform, shooing everyone off.

“Alright, clear the platform,” he said, standing underneath the spacecraft. “Everybody off. Let’s go.” He reached up and placed a Coke can on top of the ship, then walked back up the ramp to where everyone was now standing around and watching. “Major Fa, do you have a pistol?” he asked.

“What?” she asked, not expecting to be called upon and thus missing his question.

“A pistol.”

“Yes,” she replied, pulling out her sidearm as Robin positioned himself in front of the computer on the control platform.

“You see that, ah, Coke can on top of the alien craft?” he asked her. “Think you can shoot it off?”

Mulan wasn’t sure what to think. Here was this computer… guy… genius - if some of the whispered conversations and speculations she’d heard in the last twenty-four hours were to be believed - asking if she thought she could shoot a Coke can from twenty, twenty-five feet? Was he serious? She turned to her Commander-In-Chief, eyebrows raised and sought his aegis. He nodded at her unspoken question.

She nodded decisively and took aim. A moment later, the shot ricocheted around the hanger - the ice blue shield they’d all seen before covering not only the ship, but now the can as well - drawing shouts of alarm from everyone as they all took cover.

“What the hell are you doing?” the Secretary shouted at Robin.

Robin was the only one still standing upright as the pinging from the bullet finally died away. “Sorry! My fault!” he cried, both hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Should have warned you. My fault entirely.” The people got back to their feet, looks of shock, fear, and anger coloring nearly every face. “You see, that Coke can was protected by the craft’s shield and we can’t get past their defenses.”

“We know that already,” Isaac snapped. “What’s your point?”

“Right,” Robin replied, looking first at the ship and then the computer on the desk in front of him. “My point is, if we can’t beat their defenses,” he punched a few buttons on the computer as he continued to speak, “we have to get around them.” He paused for a moment, staring at his screen. “One more time, Major. Anytime.”

Mulan took aim again, dimly aware of the people around her taking cover once more and only slightly dismayed when her hand shook a bit, before she steadied herself and pulled the trigger. She wasn’t the only one who gasped, this time with shock and surprise instead of alarm, when the can flew off the ship.

“How did you do that?” General Knight asked.

“I gave it a cold,” Robin confessed, simply. Every eye in the hangar turned to him. “I gave it a virus. A computer virus,” he explained.

“Are you telling us,” Lance asked urgently, “that you can send out a signal that will disable all their shields?”

“That’s right,” Robin confirmed. “Just like they used our satellites against us, we can use their own signal against them.” He moved to a whiteboard nearby and drew a rough approximation of the mothership hovering over Planet Earth. “If we plant a virus,” he began, banging his fist against the whiteboard, “in that mothership, it’s gonna filter down into all the smaller ships below.”

“I’m sorry,” Isaac said, incredulous disbelief coloring his features, “I don’t understand. How exactly do we infect the mothership with this virus?”

Robin cleared his throat nervously and looked down for a moment, suddenly painfully aware of how ridiculous this sounded. “Well…” he began, drawing the word out, giving himself time to fortify his resolve to not only say the words, but to follow through with them, if necessary. “We’re gonna,” he began, clearing his throat and pointing at the spaceship, “we’re gonna have to fly their alien craft through and out of our atmosphere and dock with it. We can enter here,” Now that he wasn’t looking at his stupefied audience any longer, his words sounded more confident to his ears. He gestured to the satellite photos of the mothership sitting on a desk nearby, “as shown in these satellite photos. We then upload the virus and set off some kind of explosion that will disable it and disorientate all the other ships below. That will give us at least some time for you to… do your stuff…” he said, gesturing vaguely to the military personnel around them, “take them out, take them down,” he repeated before meeting the General’s eyes.

“This is ridiculous!” Isaac shouted.

“How long would their shields be down?” Lance asked.

Robin shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Two to three minutes? Maybe?”

A bark laugh burst out of Isaac. “You want us to launch a worldwide counter offensive with a window of only a few minutes?”

“With shields down, it might be possible,” Lance acknowledged.

“Oh, please!” Isaac exclaimed. “We don’t have the manpower! Or the resources to launch that kind of a campaign! Not to mention, this whole insane plan is dependent on a machine…” he gesticulated wildly toward the ship, “that no one in this world is qualified to operate!”

Killian squeezed Emma’s hand, put Henry down, and stepped forward to the Secretary. “I wouldn’t say that, sir. I’m a hell of a captain, plus, I’ve seen these things in action and am well aware of their maneuvering capabilities.” He then turned around and faced the General. “With your permission, General, I’d like to be given the opportunity to try.”

“That thing is a wreck,” Isaac hissed. “Crash landed back in the 50’s. We don’t even know if it’s capable of flying.”

Robin moved back over to Fred at the computer and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Remove the clamps,” he said softly. The clanking of the huge metal apparatus holding the ship in place releasing the craft drew everyone’s attention. As soon as they disappeared into the platform, the ship rose into the air. Not much, only a few feet really, but enough to know that, unrestrained, it was fully capable of flying. A satisfied grin that turned to a smug smirk spread on Robin’s face as he looked first at the ship then the Secretary.

“Any questions?”

Everyone stared at the spaceship, expressions ranging from awed delight, to stoic determination, and all the way to utter disbelief.

“Let’s do it,” the President ordered. He walked over to Killian and stuck his hand out. Killian took it and shook it firmly. “Good luck, Captain Jones.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

“Alright,” Mulan called. “You heard the President.”

“A virus,” Marco said, approaching Robin, a bemused but impressed smile on his face.

“Your idea,” Robin acknowledged with a nod before moving over to the pilot standing at the top of the ramp who’d just volunteered to go with him. “Robin Locksley,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

“Captain Killian Jones,” Killian replied, taking it. After a firm shake, they turned and looked at the ship, both appearing a bit overwhelmed, with no small amount of trepidation, a similar sentiment running through both of their heads - oh, shit. What did I just get myself into? - at what they’d just agreed to do.

“Do you really think you can fly that thing?” Robin asked.

Killian turned to him and raised his brows. “Do you really think you can do all that bullshit you just said?”

The men held the other’s gaze, taking each other’s measure before turning back toward the ship in front of them for a moment. After steeling themselves for what they were about to embark on, they followed the others out of the hangar.

David and the others marched through the clean room back towards the control center, Isaac Heller sputtering and protesting the entire way.

“You can’t do this!” he exclaimed. “It’s another fatal mistake!”

David had had enough. He turned around, grabbed Heller by his shirt, and pushed him up against the wall, lifting the much shorter man off the floor so they were eye to eye.

“The only mistake I ever made,” he said through grit teeth, “was appointing a sniveling little weasel like you as Secretary of Defense. But I am quite thankful that is one mistake I do not have to live with. Mr. Heller, you’re fired.” David released the man and turned to Lance and Regina just behind them. “Let’s round up every plane we can find and get us some damn pilots to fly them.”

“Yes, sir,” Lance replied, sending a disdainful glance Heller’s way.

“He can’t do that,” Isaac insisted to Regina.

“Well,” she said, sending him a smug smile, “he just did.”

~*~*~

Somewhere in the Iraqi desert, a British RAF officer laid out a map.

“Command has attempted to compile a list of casualties and losses, but info is sketchy at best.”

“We know we’ve lost the Belgian contingent in the Sinai,” his commander acknowledged. “There’s a strong possibility there may be more reinforcements hiding in the Golan Straits.” Their attention was suddenly drawn to one side of the open air tent where an Arab soldier had just arrived, speaking rapidly in Arabic.

“What’s he saying?” the commander asked.

“They’re getting a signal,” the pilot informed him. “Old Morse code.”

The three men quickly made their way to the communications tent, where an operator tore off a strip of paper that had just printed out and handed it to the commander.

“It’s from the Americans,” he read, his mouth dropping open in surprise. “They’re launching a counteroffensive!”

“It’s about bloody time!” the pilot exclaimed. “What are they going to do?”

In a hidden camp somewhere in Siberia, Russian officials received the same message.

“They claim to be able to bring down their shields.”

“When do they want to attack?”

“The attack begins in five hours,” the Japanese officer informed his men.

Back inside the control center of Area 51, Lance and David walked among the personnel all doing their part to make the proposed battle plan successful.

“We have confirmed reports of combat-ready divisions in Europe, the Middle East, and Asia,” Lance informed the President.

“That’s impressive,” he agreed. “Considering it’s all being done with Morse code.” He looked down the row of military men and women, all tapping out the message that was working its way around the world. “What about us?”

“We have sufficient aircraft for the battle plan,” Lance replied, “but pilots, we’re coming up short.”

“Well, find them,” David ordered.

~*~*~

“Ham radio operators from New York to Japan trade rumors of military forces in hiding unwilling to reveal themselves for fear of annihilation.” Jefferson and his kids sat in front of the small TV inside their motorhome watching a newscast when an announcement outside from a bullhorn caught their attention.

Once outside, they saw an Asian woman in fatigues on top of a jeep near the bunker, speaking into the bullhorn. “We’re planning at this time to launch a counteroffensive. However, with our depleted manpower, we’re asking for anyone with any flight experience to come forward. Military training is preferable, but anyone who can fly a plane would be useful.”

As Jefferson got closer, along with several other men from the camp, he could see she held the rank of major.

He raised his hand and got her attention. “I can fly. I’m a pilot.”

He didn’t have to wait long before he was seated along with several other men from the camp inside the hangar near an F-18. Nicholas tapped Jefferson on the shoulder and handed him a black coffee. He took a sip and nodded.

“Keep it coming, keep it coming,” he told his son before turning his attention back to the major at the front of the group.

“Ok, listen up,” she ordered. “These F-18’s are very different than the jets you piloted before. If you’ll forgive the expression, you’re about to get a crash course in modern avionics. Before we get started, let me get some of your flight history.” Jefferson was a bit stunned when her attention landed on him in the middle of the front row. “Let’s start with you,” she said with a sharp nod.

Jefferson stood and gave a rather awkward salute. “Captain Jefferson Hatter, Air Force, ma’am. I was a pilot in Vietnam, and after being honorably discharged, I got into crop dusting and have been doing that ever since.” He nodded and was about to sit back down, but then decided to add just a little more information. “And on a personal note, ever since I was kidnapped by aliens ten years ago, I’ve been dying to get some payback! I just want you to know, I won’t let you down.”

The major appeared rather stunned after his final remark. After a final salute and a smile full of gleeful anticipation, Jefferson sat down.

~*~*~

Back inside the hangar, Lance was leading Killian and Robin around the alien ship, pointing out all of the modifications they’d put in place to hopefully allow the two volunteers - the two heroes - to fulfill their mission and return home in one piece.

“You have one tactical missile we’re loading into this launcher under the right wing,” he informed them before crossing over to a small numeral keypad. “This is the firing mechanism,” he continued, turning it on, the countdown screen at the top of the keypad rising about forty-five degrees, so it could easily be seen. “It’ll be attached to the ship’s main console.”

“Just like the Amraam launch pad on a Stealth,” Killian said, recognizing the apparatus immediately.

“Except the nuke will not detonate at impact,” the General continued. “You’ll have thirty seconds to get your asses out of there. Good luck,” he said, catching both their eyes in turn and saluting Killian, “and Godspeed, gentlemen.”

Regina stood at the bottom of the platform and waited for Robin to come down. She’d heard everything and couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that threatened to suffocate her. She watched as Robin crossed over to the antenna attached to the bottom of the ship.

“It’s the strongest radio transmitter we could get,” the tech informed him. “It’ll tell us when you’ve uploaded the virus.”

“Thirty seconds…” Regina said as soon as Robin came down. “Don’t you think that’s cutting it a little too close?”

“Oh, no, babe…” he assured her. “We’ll be well on our way back home before we shoot that thing off.”

“Why you?” she finally asked the real question that was plaguing her as she chased him to the control platform. “Robin! I don’t understand, why do you have to be the one? Why can’t you show someone else how to plant the virus?”

“No, no, no, no,” he said, shaking his head and typing something on the computer. “Something may go wrong. I may have to think quickly, adjust the signal. Who knows?”

He smiled, a charming thing that she’d never been able to resist, and held up a Coke can. “You know how I’m always trying to save the planet?” She smiled softly as he tossed it in a recycle bin. “Now’s my chance. Literally.”

~*~*~

It didn’t look much like a church, but Killian wasn’t going to complain as he burst through the doors into the Area 51 chapel. Emma and Henry were already there, as well as the chaplain standing behind a wooden pulpit. He had red curly hair and glasses and he smiled brightly as Killian moved quickly forward, shrugging into his uniform coat, his tie still hanging around his neck.

“You look beautiful, Mommy,” Henry said, pulling back from Emma’s embrace.

“Doesn’t she though, lad?” Killian asked as he approached, smiling at them both.

“I was beginning to think you were getting cold feet,” Emma commented drily, not meeting his eyes as she started buttoning his coat while he worked on tying his tie.

“Emma,” he said seriously, taking her hands in his and using his pointer finger to raise her chin so their eyes met and she could see the sincerity in his gaze. “Never. I should have done this before now, but if there is one thing I want you to know, it’s that I will always, always be by your side. I love you, Emma.”

Emma’s eyes filled with tears and a tremulous smile touched her lips. “I love you, too,” she whispered.

“Do you have the ring?” Archie asked, hesitant to break the tender moment between them.

“I do,” Killian said, surprise all over his face as soon as the words left his lips. He turned to his bride and waggled his eyebrows at her, making her blush. “Here,” he said to the boy, turning him toward the pulpit, and placing a small box in his hands. “Make yourself useful.”

As much as Archie would have liked to go ahead and get started, they were still missing one thing. “Witnesses?” he asked the bride and groom. Just then, the doors to the room opened again admitting two men - one of them on crutches - and a woman who hurried to where Killian, Emma, and Henry stood.

“Sorry, we’re late,” the woman said.

“We got held up,” the first man added.

“Trying to get around on crutches really slows you down,” the other explained.

“It is no problem, truly,” Archie assured them all. “Now that everyone is here, let’s get this show on the road.” The two men took seats behind Killian, while the woman sat behind Emma. Archie smiled at everyone in turn and began the ceremony.

“Dearly beloved,” he said, his smile so wide, he felt like his cheeks would split. Archie loved nothing more than joining couples in marriage, and in circumstances like this, the joy in his heart, while tempered by grief at their current situation, was also bolstered by a profound hope in the future. His smile got even wider. “We are gathered here in the sight of God and these witnesses, to join together Killian Jones and Emma Swan in Holy Matrimony.”

Regina sat across the aisle from Robin. As the chaplain spoke, she looked over at him and saw him smiling softly at her. She looked down and saw his wedding band still on his finger. The sight should have saddened her, reminding her of one of the hardest - and she could see now, foolish - decisions she’d ever made, but instead, looking at the symbol of their love, it felt as if a balm was being applied to all the wounded places in her heart. He still loved her and considered himself married.

To her.

To her, who’d all but reached into his chest and crushed his heart with her bare hand, when she’d chosen to follow David Nolan to Washington rather than stay with the man she loved. The man who loved her more than anyone in her life ever had. She couldn’t deny that she still loved him - especially since she’d admitted it to him the day before - but seeing the concrete symbol of that love with her own eyes, made her wonder if there was still hope for them yet. Mary Margaret would vehemently answer in the affirmative, and all but stamp her foot in indignation as she urged Regina to go after what she wanted. What she needed. Regina had never seen a woman so full of hope in all her life. It filled her friend to the brim and spilled over to everyone around her. Regina had borne witness to it many times over the years, and if these last few days had taught her anything, it was that happiness was never guaranteed. It must be reached for and grasped with both hands and treasured with a grateful heart.

A small smile lifted the corner of Regina’s lips as she looked back at Robin, who looked at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She tore her eyes away from him and focused back on the ceremony.

“Whoever can show just cause,” the chaplain continued, “why this man and woman should not be wed, should speak now, or forever hold their peace.”

After a moment, he turned his attention to Killian. “Killian, will you take Emma to be your wedded wife? To live together with her in the holy state of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health?”

Regina met Robin’s gaze again as the chaplain recited the vows. She reached across the aisle as Robin did the same, tracing his ring with her finger before clasping his hand in hers.

“Will you keep yourself only for her as long as you both shall live?”

“I will,” Killian vowed. He turned to Emma and waggled his eyebrows at her, making her giggle and blush adorably.

The chaplain then turned his attention to Emma. “And do you, Emma, take Killian to be your wedded husband? To live together with him in the holy state of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health? Will you keep yourself only for him, as long as you both shall live?”

“I will,” Emma vowed, turning to Killian and extending her left hand.

Killian took the ring from Henry and slipped it on her finger. The diamond encrusted swan was the loveliest thing she’d ever seen in her life, and knowing that Killian had created it just for her had her eyes filling with tears with how much he loved her and how much she loved him in return. As soon as he got back from his mission, she was going to have her work cut out for her - to find him a ring that did justice to the one he’d just placed on her finger and accurately expressed her commitment to forever and the depths of her love for him.

“Then by the power vested in me by God and the United States of America, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the chaplain finally said. “Killian, you may kiss your bride.”

Killian took Emma in his arms and kissed her long and hard, dipping her back in a passionate embrace that he knew she loved, but would never ask him to do for her. Bringing her back upright, he released her lips and ran his nose up and down her own, gazing into her viridian depths, swirling with love and tears of joy.

“I love you, Mrs. Jones,” he whispered, a joyful smile breaking across his lips.

“I love you, Captain Jones,” she replied, just as softly, before turning to their friends to receive their well-wishes.

After hugs and congratulations all around, Emma, Killian, Henry, Will, and the chaplain moved to leave the room, Robin bringing up the rear. He turned to Regina, his face puzzled.

“Are you coming?” he asked.

“Um, actually,” she hedged, not meeting his eyes, “I wanted to talk to you for a minute, if you didn’t mind.”

“Of course not,” he agreed, coming toward her.

Now that she’d made the leap, she wasn’t sure how to say the words that were burning in her chest. Robin came closer and closer until only inches separated them. Regina’s mouth worked - opening and closing like a fish out of water - but nothing was coming out.

“Regina?” he asked softly, his bottomless blue eyes bouncing between hers.

She couldn’t do it. The words wouldn’t come. But maybe she could show him instead. She grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him to her. She caught him utterly flatfooted, and it took him a moment to return her kiss. But when he did, he took control, leaving her weak in the knees.

When they finally parted, her barely coherent thoughts running through her mind told her it was a very good thing that Robin was so strong and holding her so close, because her legs were in imminent danger of collapsing from the overwhelming passion between them.

“When this is all over…” Robin finally said, still trying to catch his breath, “will you…”

“Yes, Robin,” she interrupted, just as breathless.

He pulled back, searching her face, his brow furrowed slightly. “Really? Did you know what I was going to say?”

Regina’s eyes widened in alarm. Had she spoken too soon? What if she was wrong? She cut her eyes away from him, unable to watch the dreams that had just begun to form again in her heart and mind be crushed to dust before even getting a start.

“Were you going to ask me to marry you?” she asked, before meeting his gaze. Because now, she had to see. She had to see the truth in his eyes of his feelings for her. As she could finally put her own feelings for him into words. “Because I don’t want to be apart from you any longer.”

He pulled her close again and kissed her like he never had before and Regina had her answer. She’d never be separated from him again.

“I love you, Regina,” he whispered, when they finally parted.

“I love you, too.”

~*~*~

David, Lance, and Major Fa left the hanger as dawn was just touching the eastern sky. As they moved with purpose across the tarmac, they all saluted the young men preparing to fly the mission.

“They’re awfully young,” David murmured where only Lance could hear him.

“That they are,” he agreed.

Major Fa climbed on top of a jeep and spoke into a bullhorn. “We need all flight crews to report to their designated areas immediately.”

David, climbing up on the jeep next to her, tapped her on the shoulder. “Major, may I borrow that?” he asked. She handed him the mouthpiece, and David tested it before greeting the people who’d soon find themselves on the front line of a battle they had almost no hope of winning.

“Good morning,” he said, lowering the mouthpiece for a moment and scanning over the gathering crowd before him. Men, women, children - refugees, really - and soldiers of every rank and branch came closer as he prepared himself to address them all.

“In less than an hour, aircraft from here will join others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest aerial battle in the history of mankind.” He lowered his head and reflected on that simple word for just a moment before resuming. “Mankind,” he said softly. “That word should have new meaning for all of us today.” He paused again and shook his head as he continued. “We can’t be consumed by our petty differences any more. We will be united in our common interest. Perhaps it’s fate that today is the Fourth of July and you will once again be fighting for our freedom. Not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution. But from annihilation. We’re fighting for our right to live. To exist.” Tears pricked his eyes as he let those words sink in for a moment before continuing. “And should we win the day, the Fourth of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day when the world declared in one voice, We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight! We’re going to live on! We’re going to survive! Today, we celebrate our Independence Day!”

David’s passion and belief in the fortitude of the American people, and mankind as well, lent a fervor to the remaining words of his speech that prompted his listeners to their feet as he finished, their cheers rolling over him and filling the lightening sky. He put down the mouthpiece and climbed down from the jeep, a sense of euphoria and hope rising within him that would make Mary Margaret proud.

“Let’s go!” he cried.

“Mr. President, right this way, sir,” Major Fa said, leading him away from the jeep and toward an empty jet. “I’ve got your gear right over here. I’ve got a jumpsuit for you and the rest of your gear is squared away in this duffel. You’ve got your choice of helmets.”

“Mr. President, I’d sure like to know what you’re doing,” Lance commented.

David turned to his friend and mentor, and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m a combat pilot, Lance. I belong in the air.” A proud, but also somewhat hesitant smile touched his lips. He knew that Lance would understand, though he certainly wouldn’t be happy about his decision. His knowledge proved correct when Lance nodded - slowly and obviously reluctantly.

“Okay, sir,” Major Fa interrupted the moment between the two men, “let’s get you airborne.”

~*~*~

Inside the hanger, Killian and Robin shared a few moments with their loved ones before climbing into the spaceship. Killian knelt down on the ramp in front of Henry and Emma.

“As soon as I get back,” he said to Henry, “we’re going to light up those fireworks, all right?” Henry nodded and then launched himself into Killian’s arms. Killian stood, still holding him tightly. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” Henry mumbled into his neck.

A little further down the ramp, Marco handed Robin two Air Force 1 airsick bags. “Here. Take these. Just in case.”

Robin smiled bemusedly and pulled out of his pocket a prayer book and rosary for his father. “Just in case,” he said, handing them over.

“I’m very proud of you, you know,” Marco said suddenly. Robin looked at him with surprise before embracing him.

“You be careful, okay?” Regina said quietly when the two men parted. “Come back to me.”

Robin gathered her in his arms and tenderly kissed her. There was nothing else to say. Everything that needed to be said, had been.

“It’s time,” the tech informed them.

Killian put Henry back down on the ground and pulled Emma into his arms. His wife. He turned his nose into her hair and inhaled deeply, her scent and her warmth grounding him. He pulled back just enough to capture her lips, the kiss full of his love and need for her. When they finally separated, Killian mouthed I love you, with Emma doing the same.

Both men turned from their families and started down the ramp toward the ship. Killian suddenly gasped, stopped in his tracks, and patted himself down.

“Oh, damn! Wait a minute, wait a minute!” he cried, turning around toward those gathered at the top of the ramp. “We need a couple of cigars. Anyone have any?”

Marco rushed toward him, pulling something from his pocket. “I have some! Right here! My last two.”

Killian took the offering from him and clasped his hand in both of his, looking Robin’s father right in the eyes. “You are a lifesaver. Truly.” He turned away, shaking his head in disbelief, and walked back down to where Robin was waiting for him. “Almost put a hex on the whole damn thing!” he informed his partner.

The men climbed into the ship and took their seats in the cockpit. Robin opened his laptop and logged in. The automated voice wishing him a good morning made him smile.

Outside the bunker, pilots were climbing into their jets and strapping themselves in. Jefferson gave a thumbs up to his mechanic as the cockpit chamber closed him in. He pulled a picture of his kids out of the pocket of his flight suit and stuck the edge behind his control panel, inadvertently punching a button that had the panel lighting up and an automatic voice intoning Missile launch. After letting loose a couple of colorful curses, he hit another button and everything went quiet.

“I picked a hell of a day to stop drinking,” he sighed. He turned towards the bunker and saw his kids standing just outside the door. He smiled and saluted, his girls waving back with Nicholas returning the salute.

Inside the alien craft, Killian held out the two cigars toward Robin in a makeshift V.

“This is our victory dance,” he informed his partner. “Not until the fat lady sings.”

“Oh, yes…” Robin replied, rather reluctantly it sounded to Killian, even if he did reach out and take one from him.

“This is important,” he said, his gaze drilling into the civilian beside him. “We are coming back from this. And this is how we celebrate. You got me?”

“I gotcha,” he replied, though his eyes still held a measure of doubt about the ultimate success of their mission. His gaze slid along the length of the cigar, then he met Killian’s eyes. “Fat lady,” he acknowledged before nodding decisively.

Outside, the PA system crackled to life.

“Open launch tunnel.”

Above the ship, huge metal doors opened to a sky just turning from the navy blue of night to the soft blue of dawn. Above the ramp where they’d just bid their loved ones goodbye, Regina, Marco, Emma, and Henry took their places at the glass windows of the control center, surrounded by other personnel. They all watched as the metal clamps holding the ship in place were removed. As soon as they were gone, the ship hovered over the platform and a metal barrier rose up between the ship and the control center, blocking their view.

“It’s shaky,” Robin commented, nervously. “Is it going to do this the whole time?”

“Please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their upright and locked position,” Killian joked.

“Yeah,” Robin replied, trying to tamp down his anxiety. “Is it?” he asked again, when he realized it was impossible.

“Let’s rock and roll,” Killian said as he pushed the control column forward. The ship jerked backward and hit the metal barrier. Inside the control center, shouts of alarm from the people gathered filled the room.

“Oops.”

“Oops?” Robin almost shouted. “What does that mean?”

“No, no, I got it,” Killian assured him. “Some jerk didn’t put the thing…” He tore his directional map off the dash and turned it upside down before replacing it.

“What do you mean, saying ‘Oops’ there?” Robin asked again, only a little more calm that time.

“What do you say we try that one again, huh?” Killian turned a sheepish smile on Robin before turning his gaze forward.

“Yes, without the oops…” Robin agreed, pointing forward. “Thataway.”

Killian pulled back on the control column this time and the ship shot forward, straight up the tunnel and burst into the lightening sky. Screams from both men filled the cockpit - Killian in exhilaration, while Robin’s screams were full of terror.

“I have got to get me one of these!” Killian shouted.

David turned toward the alien ship that had just taken off as he climbed in his jet. He lifted a fervent prayer that the men inside would be successful in their mission and return to Earth safely. Then he saluted as the ship zigged and zagged and then made a barrel roll for good measure across the sky.

“No, no,” Robin cried. “What was that? Don’t do that!”

“Just trying to get a feel for the old girl, that’s all,” Killian tried to reassure him.

“No, no, don’t,” Robin begged. “Leave her alone. Really.”

“Look, no hands,” Killian crowed, letting go of the control column. He couldn’t wipe the delighted grin off his face if he tried.

“Killian!” Robin cried as a laugh of pure unadulterated joy burst from Killian’s lips.

“You’re all secure, Sir,” the mechanic said to the President. David nodded and spoke into his mask.

“Lance, do you read me?”

“Roger, Eagle One,” Lance replied immediately. “Your primary target has shifted course.”

“Which way are they headed?” David asked, holding his breath.

“Our secret is out,” Lance informed him. “They’re heading straight for us. ETA twenty-six minutes.”

Robin groaned in the seat next to him. Killian looked over to see the man covering his face with one hand, the other gripping around his waist.

“You still with me over there?” Killian asked.

“What the hell was I thinking?” Robin repented on another groan.

Killian looked forward again as they passed through the last layer of the atmosphere, millions of stars now filling the window before them.

“I’ve been waiting for this my whole life,” Killian murmured. Robin turned to him, a question on his brow, and Killian glanced at him before answering his unspoken query. “Astronaut. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.”

Robin smiled at the admission of his new friend. “After this mission,” he said, “you’ll be a shoo-in.”

They were silent as the ship hurtled toward the mothership they could now see clearly. It looked like some giant beetle, with either very long fangs or front legs.

“Head straight for it,” Robin murmured, looking at his laptop screen and then typing. Suddenly, there was a burst of compressed air and the control column jerked out of Killian’s hands.

“What the hell?” Killian exclaimed.

“No, no, no! Don’t touch them,” Robin cried, reaching across to Killian. “Don’t! Don’t! I was counting on this.” He typed away on his laptop. “They are bringing us in.”

Killian stared incredulously at Robin.

“When the hell were you gonna tell me?” he asked.

Robin looked at him, not apologetic in the slightest and repeated his own words from before takeoff.

“Oops…”

Killian sent him an unamused look and pointed back and forth between them. “We’re gonna have to work on our communication.”

~*~*~

In the skies above the Earth, a squadron of fighter jets flew over the Rocky Mountains.

“We have visual,” David reported.

“Do not engage until we’ve confirmed the package has been delivered,” the gruff sound of Lance’s voice replied.

“Roger.”

“Major Fa,” Regina asked, standing behind where the major was seated in front of the radar. “What happens if that thing gets here before the virus is planted?”

She turned toward Regina, and tried to reassure her. “We’re deep inside the mountain, ma’am. It should provide us some protection.”

“But what about the people outside?”

Mulan hadn’t thought about that. She glanced at the screen in front of her and saw the ETA of the ship. Picking up the phone in front of her, she ordered, “We have incoming. Bring the people inside.”

~*~*~

Killian kept his hands off the control column as the craft was drawn closer and closer to the mothership. The size of the thing was mind-boggling. As they approached, they could see a small triangular opening in the shell of the ship. Brought inside, the ship flew down a long and wide corridor, for lack of a better term. The walls on either side of them had miles long strips with the same ice blue light shining from them, lighting their path. The strips resembled cities as seen from an airplane at cruising altitude. Suddenly, they were out of the corridor and found themselves in an immense space of which they couldn’t even see the end.

“My God,” Robin breathed.

They floated through the emptiness of the space, maneuvering around seemingly random placed columns that they couldn’t see the top or bottom of as they disappeared into the space above and below them. The columns look like precariously stacked stones, but with the same blue lights shining out from them. It was clear that what President Nolan said was true. Their entire civilization was contained inside this mothership. Coming around yet another column, they could see a huge platform with an upside down cone above it. It looked like some type of docking station, as they could see other ships attached to it as well. Down below on the platform, they could see thousands upon thousands of the aliens lined up in rows.

“There’s thousands of them,” Robin breathed, utter disbelief coloring his tone. “Millions of them. What the hell are they doing?”

With complete seriousness, Killian replied, “Preparing an invasion.”

They continued floating toward the docking station, until they were finally close enough to see exactly where they were going. Just beyond where they would presumably dock, they could see into a control booth, not terribly dissimilar to the control center they’d just left on Earth. The alien inside was busy going about its business and hadn’t taken any notice of them as they got closer and closer.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Killian exclaimed, “I don’t like this! This is stupid. They can see us!”

“No,” Robin replied, drawing the syllable out, “this thing comes fully loaded. AM/FM radio, reclining bucket seats, and…” he reached forward and hit a button on the dash, “power windows.”

Screens closed in front of them, blocking the windshield so they couldn’t be seen by the alien in the control booth. Moments later, the ship jerked as they were caught by the docking station. Robin started typing on his laptop, the signal on the screen continuing to run in the background while in the foreground a banner came up saying, NEGOTIATING WITH HOST.

“Come on, baby. Come on baby,” Robin whispered. Suddenly, the banner changed, now reading ONLINE WITH HOST. Robin clapped his hands together one time and rubbed them together in excitement. “YES! We’re in,” he hissed through clenched teeth. He went back to work on the laptop, a status bar which read UPLOADING VIRUS appearing at the bottom of the screen showing the progression of the upload. Both men couldn’t look away from the screen for the longest two minutes of either of their lives. “Do it. Do it. Do it,” Robin chanted under his breath.

Back at the control center of Area 51, an air traffic controller turned to Lance. “Sir, he’s uploading the virus.”

“Eagle One,” Lance spoke into the radio in front of him, “the package is being delivered. Stand by to engage.”

“Roger,” David replied. “Eagle One, check left.” David turned his plane vertical and left the formation, several other jets following behind him.

Outside the bunker of Area 51, a jeep sped out onto the tarmac into the middle of the motorhome camp.

“Listen up!” the announcement blared over the bullhorn. “We have an emergency situation. We need everyone to grab everything they can. Only what you can carry. We need to get you inside immediately.” The jeep continued driving through the encampment spreading the news as the people started running for cover.

UPLOAD COMPLETE, finally showed on Robin’s laptop screen. He turned to Killian, his eyes wide, as if he wasn’t quite sure he could believe what he was seeing.

“The virus is in,” he whispered.

Inside the alien control room, and throughout the mothership, the multiple screens at the center of all their communications with the ships down below on Earth were going haywire. The alien inside the control room turned its head in question, and did everything it could to make things straighten out, but nothing helped.

“All we can do now is pray,” Robin said quietly, turning to his partner and friend. Killian nodded back at him.

The air traffic controller gave a thumbs up to Lance.

“Delivery is complete,” Lance informed the President. “Engage.”

Across the panel where sat the multiple air traffic controllers giving direction to the squadrons up above, the call was picked up and sent out.

“Delivery complete. It’s a go.”

“Eagle One,” David called, “fox three.” He made his shot and held his breath as the missile streaked across the sky toward the alien craft.

“Gentlemen, this is it,” Lance needlessly informed the personnel inside the room. Tense silence reigned as they all watched the progression of the missile across the radar screen.

“Come on, come on, come on,” David whispered.

A moment later, the missile exploded, not reaching its target, the same concentric ice blue circles spreading from the point of impact as before.

“Damn it!” David shouted.

Everyone inside the control room deflated. “Virus ineffective,” Lance spoke into the radio. “Disengage. Get your people out of there.”

“Disengage,” the air traffic controllers repeated the order. “Rear flank, follow suit.”

As the jets behind him started peeling off, David continued forward.

“Hold on, Command. I want another shot at it.”

Lance pressed his lips into a thin line, not at all surprised at what his Commander-In-Chief had just said.

“Sir, I strongly recommend you disengage.” He didn’t expect David to listen to him, but he had to try anyway. David made his call and his shot, then silence again descended in the control room as everyone held their breath.

This time, the missile penetrated where the shield had been and exploded on the target. Loud cheers erupted in the control center as Lance and the air traffic controllers declared the direct hit.

“It’s a hit! Squadron leaders, fire at will! Fire at will! Fire at will!”

“We’re going in,” David informed them. “Squadron leaders, take flank.”

Other jets returned to David’s side and called out the roll call.

“Eagle Six at seven.”

“Eagle Five at three.”

“Eagle One, fox two.”

“Eagle Twenty!” Jefferson cried into his radio. “Fox two!”

Missiles flew across the sky toward the alien ship. This time, instead of the ice blue impacts, red and gold fire appeared as they all made contact. As the multiple explosions began to die out, the smaller alien ships poured out of it in a swarm.

“Evasive maneuvers! Squadron leaders, evasive maneuvers!” David cried. “Prepare to engage!”

Jets screamed across the sky, now engaged in ship to ship fighting. But unlike the day before, many alien ships were now biting the dust.

“Alright, Mr. President!” Jefferson cried. “Here we go! All right, baby! I’ve gotcha!” He made his call and shot, then cackled loudly when his target exploded in front of him. “Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

“Ok, job’s done. Let’s go home,” Robin declared.

“Gladly.” Killian tried to disengage from the dock, but the ship only jerked violently, not moving an inch.

“What’s up?” Robin asked, trying to stay calm, but unable to hide the alarm in his voice or on his face.

“It’s stuck.”

“What?”

“It’s not responding,” Killian repeated unnecessarily as he tried again and again to disengage. “It’s stuck.”

The alien in the control center saw the ship jerking, sending sparks flying, and touched a relatively clear screen in front of it showing a diagram of the ship. Suddenly, the screens over the windshield began to part.

“What the hell are you doing?” Killian shouted.

“Nothing,” Robin replied. “It’s being overridden.” Both men stared out the front for a moment, frozen in fear. “Ah, shit. Umm, hide,” he blurted out. They both unstrapped and fell to the floor.

From the ground in Area 51, the battle in the skies as well as the gargantuan alien ship were clearly visible and terrifyingly close. Regina, Major Fa, and other personnel were doing everything they could to get people from the motorhome camp into the bunker before the battle got to them. They all ran for their lives, but miraculously, no one was caught in the fire even as motorhomes and military equipment outside the bunker began to explode all around them. Moments after the last of the people got inside, the front of the bunker collapsed in a hail of fire.

Inside the clean room, the panicked people gathered. Marco sat on the floor against a wall and encouraged those around him to hold hands.

“Everybody hold someone’s hand,” he urged. “Hold hands,” he repeated, motioning to the former Secretary of Defense. “Come on in.”

“I’m not Catholic,” Isaac said, rather surprised that he was being invited to participate in whatever the man was doing.

“Eh,” Marco shrugged, “nobody’s perfect.” Isaac still hesitated though. Marco met his eyes, his own eyes filled with understanding instead of condemnation. “Do you believe in God?” he asked.

“Maybe?” Isaac replied.

“Sit down anyway,” he urged. Isaac did and took the hands of the people sitting next to him. “Our Father,” Marco began, “Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name.”

Across the aisle from the impromptu prayer meeting, Henry Swan and Leo Nolan sat together.

“Are you scared?” Leo asked. Henry nodded. “Me, too.”

The battle continued in the skies above.

“Eagle Seven, fox two.”

“Eagle Three, fox two.”

“We’re running out of missiles, sir,” the air traffic controller inside the bunker reported. “We’re not causing enough damage. It’s settling directly over us.”

The ship came to a stop above the mountain, jets and alien ships still engaged around and under it as the arms concealing the deadly alien weapon began to open.

“They’re preparing to fire their primary weapon!” Lance informed them.

“Then let's take it out before it takes us out!” David cried right back. He peeled away from the rest of the squadron, two other jets following him, and dove under the ship, heading for the central opening. “Target at 12 o’clock!”

“My God, they’re everywhere,” one of the other pilots said, fear lacing his words.

“Bandits on our tail!” David called. “They’re locked on!”

“I see ‘em!” the pilot on his flank replied just before his jet exploded. David blew out a rough exhale and lifted a brief prayer for the man before turning his attention back to the target in front of him.

“Squadron leaders, I want a weapons check!” the air traffic controller exclaimed as Major Fa entered the control room.

“You’re out of time!” Lance cried. “You’ve got to disable it now!”

“I’m in range,” David reported. “Locking on.” The signal sounded inside the cockpit. “I’ve got tone. Eagle One, fox two!” David took his shot, but the missile hit one of the arms instead of the central target. “That is a negative impact.” Inside the control center, everyone deflated at the report. “I’m out of missiles,” David continued. “Eagle Two!”

“I’m on it.” The other pilot took up the mission moments before his jet exploded.

“Jesus save us!” David cried.

The air traffic controller looked at the General, the gravity of the situation written all over his face. “Sir, all missiles have been fired.”

“You’re out of time,” Lance admitted, his shoulders slumping in despair. “Get your ass out of there!”

“We’re not done yet!” David shouted.

“Get as far away as you can!” Lance ordered.

“Doesn’t anyone have any missiles left?” Desperation fueled David’s words as he looked around the sky searching for anyone who might be able to take the shot the world desperately needed.

“Sorry, I’m late, Mr. President!” A jet at David’s left burst through the smoke. “Kinda got hung up back there!”

“Pilot, you armed?” David cried.

“Armed and ready, sir! I’m packing!” the man informed them.

“Who is that guy?” the air traffic controller asked.

“Put him on speaker,” Lance ordered.

“Pilot, identify yourself,” Major Fa ordered.

“It’s me, ma’am. Jefferson Hatter,” he identified himself and saluted, though no one saw it. “I told you I wouldn’t let you down. Just keep those guys off me for a few more seconds, will you?”

Nicholas Hatter had just entered the control room when his father identified himself. His eyes widened as he stared at the wall map of the alien ship and his father’s plane.

“Ok, Echo Niner, Echo Seven, take flanking positions,” the air traffic controller ordered. “I want you to take care of this guy!”

“Alright, boys!” David cried. “Let’s give Mr. Hatter some cover!” David led two other jets toward Jefferson. “Gentlemen, let’s plow the road!” Machine gun fire erupted from his and the other two jets. “We’ll draw them off and it’s all yours!”

“Whoa, lookout!” Jefferson cried. “Coming through.” His jet wove in and out of the other alien crafts, advancing toward the arms of the ship. “I’ve got tone. Eagle Twenty, fox two.” Jefferson pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. On the screen inside the cockpit, the missile could be seen with a banner across it reading MALFUNCTION LAUNCH FAILURE. “Eagle Twenty. Fox two,” he tried again. This time, an alarm blared, the same banner now flashing on the screen. “It’s jammed,” he reported into his mask. “It won’t fire.”

Inside the control center, Lance bowed his head.

“DAMN IT!” David cried.

Inside his cockpit, Jefferson looked at the picture of his children, the alarm continuing to sound in his ear. A peace he had never known settled over him as he realized exactly what he would need to do in order to defeat the aliens. To save them all.

“Do me a favor,” he requested. “Tell my children, I love them very much.”

Nicholas, standing near the wall of the control center, ran forward. “Dad!” he cried.

“Mr. President,” Jefferson continued. “It was an honor to follow you into battle today, Sir. To fight beside you.”

David swallowed hard over the lump in his throat as he realized what Mr. Hatter planned to do. “It was an honor to lead you into battle today, Captain Hatter. To fight beside you. God bless you.”

“Alright, you alien assholes!” Jefferson cried as he zoomed toward the arms. “In the words of my generation, UP YOURS!!” He flew through the arms and up into the weapon as it charged, getting ready to fire. He was bathed in the blue light as he cackled with delight. “Hello, boys! I’m BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!”

Jefferson collided with the weapon, setting off a massive explosion inside the ship bringing the whole thing down to the ground, the remaining jets shooting out from under it as it fell.

“He did it!” David shouted, looking behind his jet to see the conflagration of the chain-reaction going off inside the alien ship. “The son of a bitch did it!”

Inside the control center, ecstatic cheers and celebrations were going on. Mulan couldn’t wipe the grin off her face if she tried, until she noticed the young man who’d kept Captain Hatter supplied with coffee during the training session before the offensive commenced. His countenance confirmed that he was one of Captain Hatter’s children, and she knew she needed to say something to him. She approached him slowly and when he finally took notice of her and turned to her with tears in his eyes, she grasped his shoulder and squeezed in support and sympathy.

“Your father was a hero,” she said softly. “You should be proud of him.”

A watery but proud smile spread across the young man’s face. “I am,” he said with a nod.

“We know how to take them out, Lance,” David said, completely unable to suppress the satisfaction, pride, and even joy of the successful completion of the mission from his voice. “Spread the word.”

“Get on the wire to every squadron around the world,” Lance ordered the Morse code operators. “Tell them how to bring the sons of bitches down.” It was only moments later that the tone of dots and dashes filled the room.

~*~*~

Inside the mothership, Killian and Robin sat on the floor of the cockpit, looking at one another, a camaraderie between them that only brothers in arms knew.

Killian sighed, not in defeat, but in resignation. He knew going in to this mission that chances were decent that he wouldn’t come back, but now, being faced with the certainty of it, he couldn’t help the sorrow that flooded his heart for leaving Emma and Henry behind.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Robin looked around the cockpit and sighed. “Checkmate,” he said quietly.

Killian nodded slowly, tears filling his eyes. He looked down at the cigar in his hand and placed it in his mouth. Robin got his out as well.

“You know, it’s funny,” he said with a chuckle. “I always thought things like this would kill me.” He put it in his mouth and leaned over to Killian for a light. They both took a long inhale, Robin coughing furiously after.

“It’s been a pleasure,” Killian said, extending his hand.

“You as well, Killian,” Robin replied, taking it and shaking it firmly.

“There’s just one thing left to do.”

Robin nodded in acknowledgement, inhaling again, but not coughing quite as badly that time. “Ready?”

“Yes, sir,” Killian growled, the cigar still stuck between his teeth.

They both climbed back into their seats and waved at the alien in the control room. Robin opened his laptop and typed EXECUTE.

“Hey!” Killian shouted.

“Look at us!” Robin taunted.

“Take a look at the earthlings!”

“Good-bye!”

Killian saluted before continuing the litany of trash talk pouring from his lips. “Take care of yourselves now!” He hit the LOCK button on the firing mechanism and the countdown clock pulled up showing thirty seconds. “Do you think they have any clue what’s about to happen to them?”

“Oh, not a chance in hell,” Robin grinned. “Good night!” he said again with a wave.

Inside the control center, they could see the screens going haywire. A skull and crossbones appeared, the jaw opening and closing with what they could only speculate was some kind of warning, or perhaps evil laughter.

“Peace!” Killian shouted as he fired the missile. It landed in the control center and the ship jerked as it was released from whatever had held it fast.

“We’re loose!” Robin exclaimed. “Can you get us out of here in 30 seconds?”

“I ain't heard no fat lady!” Killian shouted, scrambling into his seat.

“Forget the fat lady. You’re obsessed with the fat lady. Drive us out of here!” Robin strapped himself in as their ship zoomed away from the docking station. “They’re chasing us!” he shouted in surprise as the lasers from their enemies flew around them.

“Oh, really? You think?” Killian shouted, his words sarcastic in the extreme.

“We took a hit! I took a hit,” Robin cried out.

“We’re not hit! We’re not hit,” Killian argued. “Stop side-seat driving!”

“Left, left! Tunnel, tunnel! Exit left!”

“Where the hell do you think I’m going?”

“Ok, ok! We’re uh…” Robin motioned back and forth between them, pointing at their heads, “We’re getting better at this communication thing.”

Finally inside the corridor, they zoomed through, zigging and zagging around the obstacles in their way. At the end, they could finally see the triangle through which they entered, getting smaller instead of larger.

“Ahhhh…” Robin shouted, pointing. “They’re closing up on us!”

“Shut up, shut up!”

“Must go faster,” Robin urged. “Must go faster. Go go go go gooooooo!!!!”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!” Killian screamed as they barreled through the barely big enough opening into outer space. The shots from the other ships abruptly disappeared, signaling their destruction as they met the other side of the door. “Elvis has left the building!!” he shouted in exhilaration.

“Thank you very much,” Robin replied, with his best Elvis impersonation. “Oh,” he said in relief, grabbing Killian’s shoulder, “I love you, man!”

The firing mechanism in front of them continued the countdown with only ten seconds left. It was the shortest ten seconds of either of their lives as they waited for the explosion they knew was coming. The force of the blast behind them bathed them in the same ice blue light and pushed them along for a few moments before it overtook them completely.

~*~*~

People began emerging from the bunker, cheering the sight of the alien ship now on the ground, on fire from within. The tarmac was littered with debris from the motorhome camp as well as the remains of both US jets and the alien ships destroyed during the battle.

David and the few other remaining pilots climbed out of their jets and were mobbed by the crowds - hugs, handshakes, and high fives being exchanged as they all celebrated the successful battle.

Around the world, people in Sub-Saharan Africa, Egypt, Sydney, and Hong Kong lent their voices to the celebrations occurring as the ships that were preparing their next wave of attacks were falling from the sky. The fireworks generated by their fall, a jubilee of deliverance for all mankind.

Back inside the bunker of Area 51, the triumphant pilots entered the clean room. The people within stood on their feet cheering and clapping for the returning heroes. David was at the front, and he scanned over everyone, looking for someone in particular. Mary Margaret, he knew, was still in the medical wing, but Leo was down here somewhere. Suddenly, he spotted him, running as fast as his little legs could carry him into his father’s arms. David hugged him close and felt the tears flood his eyes when his son whispered in his ear.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered back.

He went to put Leo down when something - or rather, someone - caught his attention. Mary Margaret was being pushed in a wheelchair down the center aisle toward them. A broad grin broke over his face as he rushed to close the distance between them.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, kneeling beside her and gathering her carefully in his arms, careful not to jostle her arm or torso. The welcome home celebrations continued around them, but David couldn’t care less.

“I couldn’t not come greet my husband after a mission like that, could I?” she asked, amused irritation dripping from every word. “And what do you mean going on a mission like that in the first place?” she admonished him.

He pulled back and gave her the charming smile that she’d first fallen in love with.

“Given the situation and the pilot shortage,” he began, “you wouldn’t have really had me stay behind and not do my part to bring them down. You would have done the same if the situation had been reversed.”

He knew her too well. But she wouldn’t concede his point so easily. She shrugged, her lips pressed into a thin line, but still twitching at the corners as she tried to suppress her smile of acknowledgement.

“Maybe,” she replied.

David beamed and kissed her gently before rising, helping Leo into her lap, and then pushing her wheelchair toward the control room to meet General Knight and Major Fa.

Once there, Lance greeted David with a salute and broad smile.

“They’re going down all over the world, David,” he informed the President. “We’ve got them beat.”

“Any word from our delivery boys?” David asked just as Emma and Regina ran into the control center. Lance glanced their way and sighed, wishing he didn’t have to say what he knew he had to.

“We lost contact with Captain Jones and Locksley nearly twenty minutes ago,” he said regretfully. Both David and Lance turned to the ladies, preparing themselves to say something, anything, that might bring them a measure of comfort. Before they could approach them, however, one of the air traffic controllers spoke, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Hold it! Hold on, sir,” he said, excitedly. “I’ve got something on radar.”

Fifteen minutes later, two open air jeeps raced across the desert toward rising smoke in the distance. Regina, Emma, Henry, and Marco were in one, with David, Leo, and Will in the other. Regina and Emma were on their feet in the bed, straining their eyes against the blinding glare of the desert sand.

Finally, they could see two figures walking away from the wreckage of the alien ship, a strutting swagger in their gaits that brought a knowing smirk to the faces of the ladies as they exchanged amused glances. The jeeps came to a stop, and they wasted no time climbing down and running for their men. The rest of the welcoming committee held back for a few moments, giving the couples plenty of time for all the expected PDA going on between them.

Killian released Emma from the passionate embrace he held her in when he heard Henry calling his name. He knelt down and caught the little boy in his arms, rising up and settling him on his hip as he resumed walking toward the rest of the people waiting for them. His grin spread even wider when he saw Will there, too. When the two couples arrived at the jeeps, David stood at attention and saluted Killian.

Killian’s jaw dropped in surprise, and when he went to return his Commander-In-Chief’s salute, he realized he still held his cigar in his hand. He quickly handed it over to Emma, apologizing to the President as he reciprocated the salute.

“Good job,” David praised.

“Thank you, sir,” he replied as David moved toward Robin and Lance stepped up with a salute and praise of his own.

“Well done, Captain.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Killian repeated.

David turned to Robin, his hand outstretched. He could hardly look at Regina, held closely to Robin’s side, because her beaming smile might have blinded him. Robin’s smile was a bit more subdued, but no less joyful than hers as he clasped David’s hand.

“Robin,” he began, a friendly smirk spreading across his lips, “Not bad.”

Robin returned the smile as they shook, firmly putting the past behind them.

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

“Yeah, not too bad at all,” David said, his smile getting even wider when Robin stuck his cigar back in his mouth.

“Oh, so this is healthy?” Marco asked, finally able to speak to his son.

“Of course it’s not healthy!” Will exclaimed, a burst of laughter coming from him as he pulled out his own cigar he hadn’t yet been able to enjoy and letting Killian light it. “It’s our victory dance! And boy, did we earn it today!”

Robin smiled smugly, and Regina’s smile turned into a surprised chuckle. “Oh, I could get used to this,” he informed them before turning to Regina and planting a hard and thorough kiss on her lips. When he released her, he nuzzled her nose with his, delighted to see the blush coloring her cheeks. Everyone turned back toward the jeeps, the remains of the huge spacecraft, still burning brightly, filling their vision. David picked up Leo and settled him in his arms.

“Didn’t I promise you fireworks, lad?” Killian asked Henry as they climbed back in the jeep.

“Yeah!” Henry shouted, not sounding disappointed in the least.

“Happy Fourth of July, Daddy,” Leo said, looking up at the sky.

“Same to you, Buddy,” David replied, giving his son a kiss on the side of his head. They all followed little Leo’s gaze to see shooting stars streaking across the sky. It was likely only the remains of the mothership finally penetrating the atmosphere and giving them a fireworks display they’d never forget. For a multitude of reasons. But they were going to enjoy it regardless, and celebrate the first worldwide Independence Day.

The End

~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I'd love to hear what you thought of it!

#independence day #completed fic #krystal writes #inspired by independence day (movie)#manips by kit #art by krystal #cs ff #cs fic rec #such a talented shipmate ⚓️🩷⚓️

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snowbellewells · 17 days ago

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If you aren’t reading this yet, you absolutely should! @kmomof4 does an excellent job with this movie au!!! 😍🍿😍🍿

Independence Day Ch. 2 July 3

We're back! Thank you so much for reading. Yesterday was quite a ride and it's not done yet! I hope y'all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Summary: Alien invaders attack on the Independence Day holiday weekend and a small group of survivors are called upon to defend Planet Earth.

Rating: T (mild language)

Words: 12,955 of 34k

Tags: Inspired by Independence Day (movie)

On ao3 From Beginning / Current Ch

On Tumblr Ch 1 July 2