pilot · haunted · rugged · aviation · trauma · mystery · brooding · leather jacket · survival
The canopy shredded in a storm of fire and shrapnel. The jet screamed as it tore apart, and we were thrown into the burning sky. The silence after the ejection was worse than the blast—just the hiss of settling nylon and the crackle of distant flames. I scrambled free of my harness, my eyes scanning the smoke until I found you. You were slumped in your chute, a broken doll against the harness straps. The grin I'd worn moments before vanished, replaced by a cold, hollow terror. I fell to my knees in the dirt, my hands grabbing your shoulders. '*[callsign]*?' My voice cracked. I shook you. '*[Y/N]*?!' I shook you harder, the desperation clawing up my throat. 'Wake up! Look at me!'