Fandom: Top Gun

Summary: Maverick receives a visit from Goose, and he still can't let him go.

Disclaimer: I do not own Top Gun or any related characters so this story is to be used for purely entertainment and should not be reproduced.

Author's Notes: This literally came to me in a dream the night before I decided to write it. I don't believe in the supernatural or anything, but It's a pretty good story I think and I couldn't resist publishing it, despite still heavily in to another Top Gun fan fiction. This is wrote in First Person Perspective, just because I felt it was easier to convey the emotional storyline through Maverick's eyes.

-I may or may not continue this.

Sometimes the guys think I'm crazy, and that I'm Dangerous.

Maybe that's true most of the time, but really, I'm no less crazy or dangerous than anyone. We're pilots, the job calls for danger and out of anyone else, I still think I'm the best. And that's not just my ego; I've done a lot in my time, and seen more than perhaps I should have at my age. But I couldn't stay out of the sky for long. It was my life and the only thing I could count on.

So maybe I have alienated myself from my friends, they never understood me, but this never put me down. We always talked smack about each other, and it was just our way, we never meant anything by it. Deep down, in my heart though, I knew they never really accepted me; I was too risky, Iceman said on more than one occasion, that If we all died in some horrible disaster one day, I'd probably have caused it. That pissed me off.

But he was right.

After all, Goose died somehow, and I was the pilot. And I got careless. It was me. I accepted that. I paid a punishment worse than death for being such an asshole. Goose was my life. My family. It crushed me.

So there I was; getting drunk alone after hours at the officers club—it was the night before New Years Eve, and I was feeling like shit. With every passing year, the past came back to haunt me in ways I never thought possible. It was becoming scary, I felt like one of those old guys you see in the street drinking after the bar had closed, alone, wondering what happened to their youth.

Well I didn't wonder, I knew where my life was going but I didn't care. I wasn't even sure Charlie did anymore either; She kept locking the door now, leaving me locked outside and me with forgetting my keys, I spent a couple of nights on the lawn while she was warm in bed. I wasn't a heavy drinker or anything like you'd expect, I just started letting the loner in me get his way. He was spoiled lately.

I tell her one night that I saw Goose; in the fogged mirror at Top Gun. She tells me I'm working too hard. Doesn't kiss me, just sort of, touches my shoulder and then says that she needs to go to work. I hate her. Well, no I don't that's unfair, she's been there for me, in the past… But I think she's losing patience with me. I don't blame her.

But I wasn't crazy. I saw him. In the reflection, it was as large as life. I almost screamed. I knew what I was seeing wasn't real. It was just crazy old Maverick looking for things I lost way back. Like Goose obviously. It wouldn't surprise me if this were just stress, or just the crumbling relationship I'd give hell to get out of. In fact I'd have loved to get out of just about everything.

A friend like Goose was hard to forget; fun, friendly, likeable, a little goofy at times but he was the kind of guy who you'd never wish any harm done to him. But harm did come to him. And it was my fault. I was flying that day. I blamed myself, but in the end I had to move on. My friends wouldn't let me fall in to some black world of depression. Yeah, hate me if you want, but I already went through that phase.

Yeah, if things were different I'd still be moping. But I had to get over it I'm a pilot! Gotta have my head in the game I had any hope of beating Iceman in the dogfights.

I fantasize though sometimes, that none of that ever happened and Goose had never died. It made me feel better. But Charlie said I'd taken it too far and should see a grief councilor. Bitch. Like I was gonna spout all my guilt away to some guy who didn't give a shit? —No, thanks.

"Talk to me Goose." I even started talking to myself. Luckily I was alone, in the living room at the time. Just… sitting and wishing he were here with me… sitting opposite and swigging his beer.

"I'm here." He says to me quietly.

"Is it really you?" I ask, knowing it was just my imagination and hopeful heart making him real. But I didn't care, I'd have given anything just to speak to him one more time, even if that one more time involved me talking to a dreamt-up ghost.

"As long as you want it to be me, I'll always be in your heart." I knew it to be true. While after his death, I let him go; I didn't, not really. You could never let someone like Goose go. He was my brother and all the family I needed. God. That sounded so lonely I know. Maybe I am. But I miss him so much. I wish I'd died with him.

"What am I doing to myself?" I let out a depressed sigh, something I've been doing a lot lately. My head flopped against the back of the chair, just so I didn't have to look at him anymore.

"Pete." Charlie. It was Charlie calling from the top of the stair, looking down through the bannisters wearing the same old white bathrobe; her hair was all over the place. "What are you doing?" She didn't sound upset, just indifferent, like she had gotten way beyond caring about me.

I didn't respond. I looked back to the chair where Goose was sitting; gone. I shut my eye tight and felt a tear slide down my cheek. She came down the stairs and in to the living room. Her eyes were half open and she looked obviously tired.

"You gotta stop doing this." It was like she could read my mind. "He's gone and he's not coming back. I can't put it any clearer than that." She rubbed her eyes. I didn't say anything; I couldn't bear to even look at her. There was an awkward silence that flowed over the room like a thick fog. It lasted an eternity I was fearful that we'd both gotten lost. Until finally, she spoke; "I'm moving in with my sister." I swallowed.

The last thing I needed in this state was to be left alone. I kinda dreaded being alone actually.

She left a few days later. We didn't speak about it. I didn't wanna talk about it though and I don't think she did either, we were just… done.

The next day at Top Gun was hard to describe; robotic? I had to lecture a bunch of young hotheads in flight safety (That was a laugh!), and had to sit through the whole thing while getting corrected by Kazansky who seemed to delight when I slipped and said something stupid. By this time everyone knew about the breakup, and usually, in a normal situation the guys would side with the guy, and support him with typical "you don't need that bitch" comments—but that was a little harder since we were all co-workers here, Charlie was a friend of many of my friends, it was awkward, but I'm pretty sure they all sided with her… must be the aura I give off.

But who needed friends right? Tom 'I'm suspiciously still single' Kazansky and Slider? They weren't very good friends. Our lives were in each other's hands, but I got the feeling neither of them liked that fact.

Some might say I'm having a mid-life crisis, other's might say I'm just depressed, with no girlfriend or real friends to speak of. It's a bit of both really. Goose was the only one I needed.

That's why I see him. Everywhere.

"So are you just going to sit there moping or what?"

"I don't know… yeah, probably." I'd seen him so many times now, that he didn't startle me like he always did.

"Now that's just sad."

"Goose… are you here for a reason other than making me forget the past?" He didn't answer, just stood there, looking down. I guess my attitude was rubbing off. It was awkward—the silence. I didn't wanna talk, and I think he got that, I just needed him around when I was down and alone. He always had such good timing.

"Maybe… should I go?" Goose's sad tone made me feel instantly bad.

"No! Stay! Stay…" I couldn't let him leave again.

But he had already faded. Faded in to the background along with my sad little life. And just like his ethereal form, I couldn't grasp where the hell I was headed anymore.