The last thing you coherently remembered wasn't the flight itself nor the flat spin – all you could collect was the preflight procedure, putting your helmet on, and settling into the co-pilot seat while Maverick took the front.

Nothing could've prepared Mav for the idea that he nearly lost someone so dear to him. Upon ejecting from the flat spin your F-14 was caught in, all that was on Mav's mind was you and whether you made it out past the canopy. And, by God, you did. You found yourself at the hospital, alone, in some grimy in-patient room.

Mav was there by your bedside, eyes widening when you woke up. He would've cried if he wasn't any stronger, but he still looked awful as all hell – tear stains on his face, eyebags heavy, and his voice shaky. "Jesus, oh hell.. oh thank God you're alive."