Chapter Text
June 11
When I was a boy, I had a dream
All about the things I'd like to be
Soon as I was in my bed
Music played inside my head
When I was a boy, I had a dream
It was a gorgeous afternoon.
The sun was high in the sky, there was a light breeze, the temperature for the day not scorchingly hot but a comfortable 79 degrees. Music from the radio played on as Bob Floyd drove down the quaint streets in the neighbourhood he lived in, fingers tapping away on the curve of the steering wheel. He could hear laughter from groups of kids, all trudging home from school now let out for the day, excitedly talking about what they were going to do that night, whose house they would meet at to go ride their bikes, who had the newest game video game and console to play. It made him grin as he turned onto his street.
And radio waves kept me company
In those beautiful days
When there was no money
When I was a boy
I had a dream
The garage door creaked open with a groan, the kind that meant he really should get around to greasing the hinges like he had kept saying he would. The afternoon light slanted across the driveway, each beam peeking through the gaps of the leaves high in the trees above as he eased his truck along the driveway, parking and cutting the engine. It was earlier than usual, an unexpected reprieve after managing to breeze through mountains of paperwork. For once, the Navy had given him a breather… a rare treat indeed and he was not about to waste a second of it.
Bob stepped out of the truck and stretched his back, rolling his shoulders with a low groan, stiff from all of the sitting hunched over at his desk. He was already picturing the quiet comfort of home… a long shower, some dinner… god maybe even a nap if he was lucky.
He could see the potted plants that Katherine had bought starting to list a little to the left out of the front of their house, making him chuckle. She must have forgotten to water them again in her rush out the door the morning before.
Their home was a modest starter, one that they had spent a long time looking at and discussing options, settling on a lease to own payment plan… but it was theirs. He had begun to make a list in his head of all the things that he would need to do while she was away for a few days, and whistled as he veered from the door, walking down the driveway, across the lush grass to the mailbox.
When I was a boy, I had a dream
Finding out what life could really mean
Don't want a job 'cause it drives me crazy
Just wanna sing, "Do you love me, baby"
When I was a boy, I had a dream
It wasn’t something that he normally rushed to check, Katherine usually beating him to it in their playful back and forth contest of who could help whom more, but today? Today he was the one there. He wondered as he looked up and down the street if she was doing alright out there, flying with Rooster and Hangman and a few other daggers in a cross squad, three day, specialized flight training course for pilots. The bickering that he knew was going on in the air made Bob laugh to himself. The other squad had no idea what they were walking into. He opened the hatch to the box, reached inside and pulled out the stack of mail, thumbing through the pile to weed out the junk mail while he was still at the curb, the garbage and recycling for the week still not picked up.
“Bill, bill… flyer, pharmacy coupons… letter from the VA…” Bob’s voice cut short as something caught his eyes among all the colourful advertisements.
Plain.
White.
No postage beyond the basic stamp but the address was handwritten.
He froze mid turn, his intent to head back into the house.
He couldn’t stop staring at it… his name on the front - LT. Robert Floyd - penned in a sharp, unmistakable scrawl. Angular cursive with a faint forward tilt, like the writer had been in a hurry or had lost their patience halfway through. It was the kind of handwriting that seemed cold… one that haunted his memory more than he cared to admit.
It was his mothers.
When I was a boy…
He knew it instantly; knew it like he knew the sound of radar, the smell of jet fuel as the engines started off, the feeling of the salt spray from the ocean hitting his skin as it misted into the hangar. It hit him in the gut, hard and fast, the memories like bad turbulence he never saw coming. He just stood there for a moment, the mail in his other hand dropping to the ground, fingers almost too numb to move. His boots felt rooted in the concrete of the sidewalk as everything around him - the Robinsons dog barking again in the backyard, the leaves above him fluttering in the breeze, Mr. Lewitski mowing his lawn again - kept moving. Bob however… did not. He stood still, frozen and most likely a sight to the neighbours.
Fuck… it had been sixteen years.
The envelope felt heavy; hot like it would burn through his fingers if he held on for too long. Finally snapping from his daze, he quickly gathered the fallen mail and crossed the grass to the porch steps, not daring to look behind him as he did.
The house smelled of lavender, one of those diffusers that Katherine had insisted that they get to help achieve their inner calm and relax after the tough days on base, misting away in the corner on its preset timer. He’d admit to Katherine later that the familiarity of walking into the smell in that moment made him feel safe…but he was almost glad that Katherine’s Mercedes hadn’t been in the driveway when he had arrived home. Not because he didn’t want her there with him, he always did, but because it gave him time. Time to think, time to hide the letter, time to collect himself before she walked through the door and saw right through him.
The rest of the mail was tossed haphazardly onto the small table by the phone, the letter from his mother flat on the kitchen table, taunting him as he grabbed a glass of water and tried to stop his rapidly beating heart.
How had they even found out where he was? How had they known he was a Lieutenant? That he was in California? Who… who the hell had they been talking to?
The water was cold as it ran down his throat, shivering at the sensation it left behind.
He needed to find a spot, a hiding spot for the letter to go, someplace where Katherine wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it and ask questions before he was ready… and someplace where he wouldn’t be tempted to read it too quickly. He took the stairs two steps at a time, walking down the short hallway to their bedroom, hands shaking as he opened the closet doors and dug through his belongings, reaching far into the back and pulling out a box of his old uniforms, tucking the letter into the pocket of a torn flight suit before stuffing it back into the bottom. He shoved the box back into the dark depths of the closet and closed the door with a soft kiss click .
And then he sat there, hands on the ground next to him, shoulders tense, leaning back on his heels. His breath was tight in his chest, but his heart raced like he had just sprinted an entire marathon. Running a hand through his hair, he grimaced at the feeling of sweat, and decided that he should shower after the day. Even under the hot spray that was supposed to be soothing, Bob found his mind racing, so many questions rapidly piling up with no answers. He rubbed his hands down his face and closed his eyes in hopes for time to stop just for a moment, but heard a familiar sound outside.
Katherine?
Her car had a rattle that he could hear blocks away, Maverick insisting that the part for the vintage piece was on its way and that the car was still safe to drive. She was close, less than three minutes from pulling into the driveway. He finished up the shower quickly, not trusting himself to look in the mirror right away, attempting to change before she made it inside. He dressed, grabbing things from the dresser rather than the closet, clean boxers, a pair of soft worn jeans, and a white shirt before listening to the sound of the front door.
She was humming when she walked inside, keys jingling as she dropped them into the bowl by the door. Bob could hear the exhausted sigh as she kicked off her boots with a thud and wandered around the landing.
“Bob?” She called out to the seemingly empty house. “You home?”
“Just a sec!” He answered from the bedroom in a tone he hoped seemed normal. He swallowed as he descended the stairs, tugging the white shirt over his head as he did. “Hey sweetheart.”
Bob fought against the feeling of guilt as she smiled up at him, hair now pulled back into a relaxed and loose ponytail, the tell tale sign of her massaging her scalp after a long day.
“What a sight for sore eyes,” Katherine said with a smirk.
“You just saw me last night.”
“Definitely far too long.” She closed the space between them and giggled as she fixed his glasses that sat askew on the tip of his nose, before kissing him softly. “Mmmm hi yourself. You’re home early?”
“So are you,” He said, dodging her questions as his arms wrapped around her middle and hugged her close. “I thought you were doing your training for the next two days? What happened?”
“URGH!” Katherine groaned, pulling away and moving toward the kitchen, flicking on the kettle as she did. “Don’t even get me started. I drove three hours to the training facility with Mav, Hangman and Rooster all en route right? Well doesn’t the other squad conveniently forget to tell us that the pilots they were sending all came down in a vicious flu that resulted in a HUGE mess in the jets. Mechanical failures, maintenance delays, faulty sensor readings…it was an absolute nightmare. We did one day of on ground training before the remaining pilots from the other squad had to leave. They were calling it a serious outbreak. Things have been rescheduled for a few weeks out.”
Bob could see her rubbing at her lower back.
“I think the drive there and back was the hardest. I think I need to invest in something ergonomic for my driver's seat because I don’t think what I have now is doing any good.”
“It does sound like quite the day.” Bob said, reaching above her to grab her favourite mug from the cupboard above, dropping her favourite tea bag into it.
“Oh yeah,” She said, leaning back against the counter, and eyeing him playfully. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re home so early? I thought you were to be on base until late tonight.”
Bob shrugged, attempting to play things cool.
“Cyclone was in a pretty relaxed mood… you know since Maverick was off base. I bet tomorrow when everyone is back at work we’ll have to make up for the dismissal today.”
“A moment rarer than winning the lottery.” She laughed. “You know I was hoping to beat you home, have a nice surprise waiting for you.”
Bob’s mind flashed to the letter tucked away in the closet, already being surprised enough for one lifetime. He kept his mask though, smiling and kissing her temple.
“Mission accomplished because I am still surprised.”
“I’m gonna drag this bag all the way upstairs, hop in the shower and then change into something more comfortable, but how about we take advantage of the extra time we have, order our favourites and have a picnic on the back lawn?”
“Sounds like a perfect night.”
“Good, I thought so too. I’ll hop to this and you gather supplies.”
Bob listened as Katherine bounded up the stairs, the water in the shower humming through the pipes as he began to gather the supplies, the spare comforters that were usually saved for guests, napkins, drinks and other picnic related items and took them outside to set up before walking back in and standing in the landing, his mind going back to the letter… the fucking letter that was still upstairs.
Tucked away like some dormant landmine. It hadn’t moved. It didn’t have to.
It was moving through him.
He dragged a hand down his face, willing his thoughts to settle, to organize themselves into something manageable. But they wouldn’t. All he could see was that envelope. All he could hear was the sharp edge of his mother’s voice in his head: You’re being dramatic, Robert. That’s enough.
Fifteen years gone, and she still lived in the recesses of his memory like a stain he couldn’t scrub out.
He moved from the landing through the entirety of the house, pacing the length of the living room with slow, heavy steps. His dog tags shifted under his shirt, a familiar weight against his chest—real, solid, earned . Not like her words. Not like her absence.
He shouldn’t care. That’s what he told himself.
“I built a life. I’m not that kid anymore.”
But the truth was uglier. The truth was, some part of him still wanted answers. Maybe even—God, he hated himself for the thought—validation. Something he’d spent a lifetime pretending he didn’t need.
Upstairs, he heard the water cut off, footsteps, the sound of a drawer opening, and then a cabinet closing. Bob forced himself to sit down again on the couch, body rigid. When Katherine appeared at the top of the stairs, wrapped in a towel, skin flushed from the steam, he looked up and gave her a smile he didn’t feel. She returned it easily—trusting, open, herself . She was everything that house he’d grown up in was not.
And he hated that he was keeping something from her.
She trusted him with everything. Her life, her mission calls, her silence and her secrets. And here he was, sitting on what felt like a live grenade that he hadn’t warned her about.
So he did what any person would do… he tried to reason with himself.
“It’s just a letter. Doesn’t mean anything. She doesn’t need to know until I decide what to do with it.”
That logic only held up until he looked at her again—really looked. Katherine, soft with post-shower warmth, reaching for a hair tie, humming something under her breath.
She deserved the truth. She always had.
His guilt though sat like lead in his chest.
He hadn’t read it… didn’t want to. And until he did, he couldn’t explain to someone else something he didn’t understand himself. So he stayed quiet. Like he always had. Like that scared, forgotten kid who used to lie awake in a too-big house, listening to his mother tell his sister she was the light of her life. Who used to watch his older brother get praised for the bare minimum while he twisted himself into knots trying not to be a burden.
He hadn’t thought about that house in years, but now, just like that, it was back. And he could feel it again, even from hundreds of miles away.
The door to the past had cracked open with a single envelope. And he wasn’t ready to look inside.
Not yet.