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50calmadeuce · 1 day

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Ch. 22: Back Home

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

A couple of weeks after your journey from San Diego, you found yourself engrossed in work late one evening in your office. The sound of a knock at the door interrupted your focus. Lifting your eyes, you saw Chuck standing there, holding a small tray filled with snacks.

"Come in," you invited, taking a moment to organize the papers strewn across your desk.

Chuck entered, placing the tray on your desk. "Figured you might need a little something to munch on," he offered, a considerate gesture that brought a moment of warmth to the late hours.

You couldn't help but smile at the thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Chuck. That's really kind of you," you expressed, genuinely touched by the gesture. The sight of the snacks—a mix of fruit, nuts, and some chocolate—was a welcome sight, considering you hadn't realized how much time had passed or how hungry you actually were until now.

Chuck observed the situation, remarking on your evident busyness. "It looks like this new grant project is keeping you quite occupied," he noted, acknowledging the lengthy days you've been putting in.

You responded with a confirming sound, the weight of the work ahead clear in your tone. "This is just the start. I've been going through resumes to find some assistance for the upcoming winter and summer," you explained, signaling the expansive scope of your project and the need for additional hands to manage the workload.

As a yawn escaped you, you promptly covered your mouth with your hand.

Chuck issued a gentle warning, "Well, don't push yourself too hard. I understand with the Lieutenant away, you might dive into work to keep him off your mind, but it's not the best for your health," he pointed out, concern evident in his voice. "And you've seemed pretty worn out lately."

You dismissed the concern with a nonchalant shrug. "Nah, I'm fine. Just still getting my bearings after all those time zone changes a few weeks back," you claimed, attributing your fatigue to the adjustment period rather than the workload or emotional stress.

"Have you heard from the Lieutenant?" he inquired, observing as you picked up a grape from the plate and popped it into your mouth.

After a moment spent chewing and then swallowing, you answered, "No," your tone casual yet hinting at a deeper resignation. "But that's nothing new." You continued eating off of the plate.

Chuck's observation came unexpectedly, drawing a parallel from his experiences, albeit in a different context. "Doc, I'm no rocket scientist, but I've been around horses enough to see when something's up. Are you sure you're not pregnant?" he asked, noting your sudden appetite as you continued to eat grapes.

You stopped mid-motion, a grape poised between your fingers, as his words prompted a rush of thoughts. The realization dawned on you; you and Jake had been cautious only that one time.

The room suddenly felt too small, your mind racing as you tried to piece together the timeline, the possibility that Chuck's offhand comment might hold more truth than jest.

Chuck, realizing the gravity of what he'd suggested, immediately softened his approach. "Hey, I didn't mean to jump to conclusions or anything. It's just, you've been looking a bit off color lately, and now the sudden hunger," he explained, his voice tinged with concern rather than suspicion.

You set the grape back down, suddenly not so hungry. "I... hadn't really considered it," you admitted, the possibility now taking root in your mind. "But now that you mention it, there have been a few signs that I just attributed to stress and being busy." As you glanced down at the grape held delicately between your fingers, a stark realization hit you. You despised grapes. The fact that you were not just tolerating but seemingly enjoying them now added an unexpected layer of complexity to Chuck's question. This sudden shift in your dietary preferences, coupled with the recent context you were forced to consider, made the scenario all the more perplexing and worthy of deep thought. "I'll make a doctor's appointment tomorrow." You looked at Chuck and nodded. "Good night."

A few days after your conversation with Chuck, you found yourself in a different kind of waiting—sitting in a doctor's office, draped in a gown that felt less like clothing and more like a symbol of vulnerability. The anticipation was palpable, the room filled with a silence that seemed to echo your racing thoughts.

The door finally opened, breaking the cycle of your anxious musings. A middle-aged woman stepped in, her curly dark hair framing her face and glasses perched on her nose, exuding an air of professional calmness. "Dr. Seresin, how are you today?" she greeted, her voice carrying a blend of warmth and formality, the sort that healthcare professionals master over years of practice. Her presence, while reassuring, also marked the moment of truth you had been both dreading and anticipating.

"Dr. Katz," you acknowledged her, trying to muster a semblance of calm. "I guess I'm doing okay."

Dr. Katz took a seat, her gaze meeting yours squarely, a gesture that seemed to brace both of you for the forthcoming revelation. "Well, we might as well just get right to it. You're pregnant."

The moment the words left her lips, it felt as though the room's atmosphere shifted dramatically. It was as if all the air had been vacuumed out, leaving behind a charged silence that enveloped you. The reality of her statement hung heavy, a profound turning point that was both intimidating and real.

Dr. Katz, observant and empathetic, noticed the change in your demeanor. Her voice softened as she addressed the situation, "I take it this wasn't planned?"

Releasing a deep breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, you managed to find your voice. "Not really, but..." Your words trailed off, a mix of emotions swirling within you—surprise, apprehension, perhaps a hint of something else. In that moment, with the reality of your situation settling in, you stood at the threshold of an unexpected journey, pondering the myriad ways it could unfold.

Dr. Katz's gaze briefly settled on the wedding ring adorning your finger, a symbol of commitment that prompted her next question. "I didn't know you were married? Does your husband not know yet?"

Meeting her gaze, you clarified, "I've been married for four years. My husband is currently deployed. Due to a past circumstance, we recently rekindled our relationship."

Dr. Katz turned her attention back to the computer, typing away for a moment before stopping, a note of concern in her expression as she addressed a sensitive topic. "Ah. Being kicked in the stomach and losing the baby." Her gaze shifted back to you, searching, as she asked, "How do you feel about this?"

There was a brief pause as you collected your thoughts, the weight of the question pressing down. "Honestly, nervous," you admitted, your voice carrying the mixed emotions of fear, uncertainty, and perhaps a glimmer of hope or resilience. It was a moment of vulnerability, acknowledging the complexity of your feelings in the face of such unexpected and challenging news. he room seemed to hold its breath as you shared a piece of your past, a shadow that lingered over your present. "After it happened, my husband didn't really talk to me for four years," you revealed, the pain and isolation of that time evident in your voice. Meeting Dr. Katz's eyes, you expressed a fear deeply rooted in your experience. "I don't want that again."

Dr. Katz, sensing the depth of your concerns and the weight of your past experiences, offered a supportive suggestion. "There's a psychologist I can connect you with..."

But you quickly dismissed the idea, a reflexive wave of your hand punctuating your decision. "No. No psychologist. I can deal with this." Your voice carried a mixture of determination and perhaps a hint of apprehension.

Dr. Katz exhaled deeply. "Alright, I'll provide you with that information, just in case you have a change of heart. But do start taking a quality prenatal vitamin. I'll see you in a month's time, purely as a precaution because of the last time. It's not that I'm expecting complications, but I'd rather be safe and ensure everything is on track."

"Okay," you nodded in agreement.

"You're going to be just fine, Y/N," reassured the doctor before exiting the room.

You released a breath you hadn't noticed you'd been holding in.

Entering the kitchen late, you carried a small bag, its contents consisting of prenatal vitamins.

Chuck glanced up. "Everything alright, Doc?"

Setting the bag on the counter, you extracted the vitamins. "You were correct. I'm pregnant."

A smile brightened Chuck's face. "Doc, that's wonderful news! But, why do I sense you're not thrilled?"

"I am happy," you admitted. "It's just the thought of Jake's reaction that's weighing on me."

Chuck nodded, understanding the complexity of the situation. "I think the Lieutenant will be thrilled about it."

"I hope so, but it's my line of work that makes him anxious. Particularly after the last incident." Drawing in a deep breath, you contemplated your next steps. "I need to see about getting an assistant or an intern. It's time to have a discussion with work."

As if on cue, your phone began to ring, and Jake's name flashed on the screen. "Speaking of Jake," you remarked, pressing the answer button for a face call. "Hey babe!"

Chuck discreetly exited the kitchen, giving you space to talk to Jake.

Jake's voice came through, vibrant and warm. "Hey, darlin'!"

God, how you missed the sound of his voice. Heck, you missed everything about him.

He noticed your weariness. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. It's just been a long day. I literally just got home."

"Well, then I called at the right time. How are things?"

"Things are going well. I've been swamped, between the job and managing the grant, it's been non-stop."

"Darlin', make sure you're not overdoing it," he cautioned gently.

A smile found its way to your lips. "I won't, Jake. Don't worry about me."

His gaze carried a tinge of concern. "You sure you're alright?"

With a reassuring smile, you responded, "I'm fine, Jake, really. Like I mentioned, today was just one of those long days."

Seeing his expression ease brought you a bit of relief. "You'd tell me if something was up, wouldn't you?"

"Without a doubt." You took a brief pause before shifting the focus. "How about you? How have you been?"

"Doing well. There's been a lot of training going on."

"That sounds positive, doesn't it?"

His smile returned, warmer this time. "Always is." His gaze met yours, carrying a mix of longing and affection. "I miss you, Y/N."

The feeling resonated deeply within you. "I miss you too, Jake. Any idea when you'll be back?"

He hesitated, the uncertainty evident. "Not at this time."

You nodded. "Is there anything you need? I took care of your apartment, so you're good on that."

His voice carried a hint of regret. "Nah, I'm alright, but I really need to catch some sleep. Sorry for not calling sooner. This was the first chance I got."

Your words were soft but firm, "Jake, it's part of the job. I get it. Go catch some sleep. I'm heading to bed soon myself."

"That sounds like a plan. I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Jake."

After ending the call, Chuck re-entered the room.

"You didn't tell him, did you?"

Shaking your head, you responded, "No. He's got enough on his plate without adding to his worries. He needs to stay focused on his work." You met Chuck's gaze with determination. "And there's no arguing with that."

Chuck gave a nonchalant shrug, conceding to your point. "Whatever you say, Doc. You call the shots." Moving towards the stove, he changed the subject. "Got an appetite?"

"Starving!" you exclaimed, grateful for the distraction.

Chuck then busied himself with preparing a plate for you, signaling the end of the conversation and a shift to more comforting, domestic matters.

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