Another chunky two in one kinda length chapter.
Trigger warning, there are some hints at disorganised eating in one section and genral anxiety vibes throughout.
Despite a (slightly staged feeling) telling off from the Commander for her unusual tardiness, Atlanta had an easy morning. Once she had convinced her dad it was decaf in her cup at least. Just the usual several run-of -the-mill launches and returns; mixed in with some hours of form filling, Box ticking and radio coms. And correcting several hash ups from the day before.
"Gee thanks Mackrell!"
"Tell me about it." Fisher replied head in one hand from the other side of the console. Atlanta hadn't realised she'd muttered it out loud. Or that loud.
"Give it an hour, Atlanta." He continued. "Five bucks says we get one of the ship's radios in about getting way off course coordinates too."
"With these weather readings?" Atlanta scowled, holding them up. "No deal, too easy a bet."
"Shore, Fisher, don't jinx it. We had three call-ins yesterday with that lousy beatnik charting the stations." Commander Shore growled. "Wait till I speak to his officer. At this rate we'll have half the fleet calling in!"
Not that Atlanta was without her own faults. Only minor errors but it still bothered her. Twice Atlanta found herself writing the wrong date. The wrong year on one of them even. A day sure, it's an easy mistake to make. but the wrong year?! Honestly! How did she put 1965 instead of 2065? Fisher had found it funny at least and had had the decency to quietly correct it before he fed the file into the machine, and told her afterwards.
For the last job of that shift, Atlanta over saw Stingray's return at mid afternoon. Atlanta followed her on the console back into her pen and dock; and had all their usual protocols down to a tea. then she signed off. And with cheerful-ish see you laters to her father and Fisher she left the control room.
Split shifts had pros and cons. Normally Atlanta didn't mind them so much if there were only a few hours down time in between. Today she was only working seven hours, bar calling an emergency. And wasn't due back into work the second half of her shift for another four. It seemed too long a time to waste; but also not enough time to get anything done. Plus Down time of late had meant time to think. And she felt she'd been doing too much of that as of late.
Father must have reconned on it being a quiet day to justify cutting her hours down so much suddenly. Or he was still worried about her still. Probably the latter. Atlanta sighed. She'd become very aware of her father's pacing and checking on her. As if waiting for any little reason to uncharacteristically send her on a break. or worse, send her home early. As if she needed anymore time alone with her thoughts right now!
Still, at least Troy giving her a lift saved her getting the shuttle or walking home. Even if it was only a short ride home. A very short ride. But she'd be grateful for the company and to spend some time with Troy, briefly as it would be.
As arranged, after grabbing her bag and coat from the locker room Atlanta headed to Stingray's stand by lounge to meet him.
A deserted standby lounge.
She'd expected the crew to already be there. Or at least the two fellas; If Troy had mentioned he was meeting Atlanta there, Marina might have bolted already. For a moment Atlanta thought she must have missed them, or that Troy had forgotten. But Stingray's injector tubes were still in docking position, the chairs absent; indicating pen three was still occupied.
So Atlanta sat down to wait.
It took a while. A lot longer than normal. Eventually The light above the bay hanger flashed. The crew rose from Stingray and Atlanta rose to meet them. Three seats came up. But Only two occupants.
"Oh Hey! Atlanta, what a surprise. And To what do we owe the pleasure?" Phones grinned.
Atlanta went to reply-
and nearly bit her tongue in shock at seeing Marina.
Marina looked surprised to see her too. Then glanced aways with only a little (unhappy) wave hello in response.
"Not that it isn't good to see you." Phones continued. "Especially after yesterday!"
"Hey, yeah. yeah so I hear." Atlanta said, trying to recover and not to frown so hard. Marina probably felt Atlanta's staring and the mermaid shifted uncomfortably, impatient to get out of her seat.
"erm is Troy not with you?" she asked, turning back to Phones. "Only, I was meeting him here."
"Ah yeah, he did say I remember now." Phones nodded. But Atlanta barely heard.
see, Atlanta's shock however had not been seeing Marina there as such. But seeing her, really seeing her. She hadn't seen Marina in quite a few days. Not properly. Most times she'd seen her friend this week had been the back of her head or a blur of green. How Marina looked now was more of a surprising thing. Because Marina looked…
She looked bad.
Not at all like her usual pretty put together self. Not that Marina wasn't ever not pretty; the mergirl would look pretty in any get up she wanted to wear.
But Marina's dress hung oddly for one. And while she had her flower comb, Marina was missing her pearls from her hair and the one around her neck for another. Bar times in pyjamas, Atlanta had only ever seen Marina without them once. And that had been Atlanta's fancy dress party last birthday. But bar that it was a staple to Marina's 'look' and given the drama with the giant oyster Atlanta was pretty sure they held some cultural significance. To see her without them was odd.
and while Atlanta had had a day's rest and some time this morning to get ready (including extra concealer to hide the shadows under her eyes,) Marina after just one easy patrol looked every bit as under the weather as she'd been described recently. Definitely not 'fine' as Troy had said.
Marina's face was pale, well paler. and pinched, all sharp edges and angles all over. Her hair hung limp in its usual style, dull and tired. In fact Her whole being Seemed dull and tired. And tense now Atlanta was in the room with them.
Atlanta was reminded of how deceptively fragile Marina had looked at first meeting her way back when she'd first arrived into town. And of how worse for wear Marina had looked the second, skittish arrival home after re-rescuing her from Titan following the deal of her for Troy's life.
Did no one else notice? How could they not?! Maybe it seemed a less extreme difference for the fellas. Atlanta could figure sure seeing Marina everyday would make the slight changes being so gradual for them sure but it sure was Mounting up. Marina was clearly in some turmoil, some anxiety or sickness, or or something. Surely they could see that? They wouldn't have left that unaddressed? They wouldn't have left their friend to a damsel in distress at least not on home ground?
"Troy's just speaking to the dock engineers." Phones continued, "said he's gonna get the lift back up here."
"Oh. well I'm sure he's remembered." Atlanta shrugged, a bit miffed. As the injector bayfloor slid back into place to let them scramble out of the submarine chairs, Marina scrambled to get quickly away, breezing past away from Atlanta as calmly as possible. Again Atlanta tried to not to take that to heart.
"Something the matter?" she asked. Marina ignored her. So Atlanta twisted the question to Phones. "With Stingray I mean, To go get the engineers?"
"That rattle on the starboard yawning, Troy wants it checked out before we head out again." Phones shrugged, stretching as he got up and then claiming the couch to crash on, ran though his post bay checks on his headphones.
"Thought we all agreed it was just a bit of turbulence?" Atlanta frowned, as she sat back down again opposite Phones.
" Yeah but we both thought we might as well have it looked at while on standby. Skipper shouldn't be long." He said, shaking out stiff legs. Phones seemed in a real crabby mood today, Atlanta noticed. Weird.
"Two hours here then out again. Rinse and repeat." He drawled. "You know how Troy's on quiet days like these."
Atlanta tried not to huff. Irritating as it was to be kept waiting, after forgetting their date the other night she couldn't really complain.
"I know. Pleasant voyage?" she asked.
"Eh. You heard it already. Real quiet for us. Nothing exciting." Phones shrugged. Then snapped.
"Hey! No, hold up there!"
Atlanta turned to see Marina freeze half way out the door. She'd tried to slip out at the first moment she'd gotten while Atlanta had had her back to her. Again Atlanta tried not to take that to heart. It hurt but she tried.
"Make sure you get something to eat first, before you head out Marina. We might get duty called early again." Phones told her. In a very no argument voice. Marina rolled her eyes. without any fondness she normally did the gesture with.
"I Mean it." Phones insisted.
In almost a sulking manner, Marina then made a show of letting the door swing loudly shut, crossing the room and grabbing a from the cupboard where the crew stashed their snacks. She even held them up, a box of fruit slices and a cereal bar, and signed look, question. ("look?" )
For a word with no sound, it was extremely sarcastic.
Atlanta frowned, puzzled by the sass. Marina hadn't fallen out with Phones too had she? but Phones ignored her puzzled glance and continued at Marina.
"You actually have to eat them then."
Marina sat down in a flounch at the other side of the room far away to eat her snacks.
"Food's fuel. And Stingray's autoserve rations ain't great. you know that." Phones fussed.
Atlanta would offer they all go get a proper bite to eat together at the diner while the three crew mates were free. But she doubted Marina would take her up on that offer after a fortnight's silent treatment. However, Before she could say anything on the matter or Phones could put his feet up even; Fisher stuck his head around the door.
"Lieutenant Phones?" he said. "You're urgently wanted in the control room."
"Figures. Coming right up." Phones sighed. Marina too looked concerned.
"Is something the matter?" Atlanta asked.
"You're off shift." both fellas said.
And then to Phones Fisher explained, "it's just Swordfish six. They've sent us a sounding that it's bosun can't identify and would like a second opinion real quick."
"Told you." Phones grinned to the other two. Then as Marina made to follow, gathering up her things, Phones turned to John. "Say, Fisher there's no need for Marina to come to is there? She's on a split shift too."
"Huh? Oh. oh yeah, no Marina you wait here." Fisher nodded. "With Atlanta. We just need Phones real quick."
"You're on break too, Marina." Phones agreed. Marina shrugged.
"I don't mind," she signed. clearly minding a lot because she made wide eyed looks and faces when Phone's shook his head kindly.
"You wait here with Atlanta and take it easy," he insisted. "I'll be right back Marina. Should only take ten minutes if that."
Atlanta sat there feeling there was something she'd definitely missed going on.
Fisher held the door open. Phones left with a see you soon.
And Marina, with a quick glance at Atlanta, stubbornly ignored Phones insistence at her staying in the standby lounge made to leave too.
"Marina, wait-?" Atlanta started.
Marina put her head down and ignored her as well.
"Actually Marina-!" Fisher interrupted, blocking her path. "Can you wait here please?"
Marina froze.
"Why?" She asked. She didn't sign that one, it was clear in a frown and a gesture.
"because….the..commander wants a word with you." Fisher said. "Right after we sort this out. all three of you here. before your next patrol."
That didn't make sense, Atlanta blinked. They normally had briefings in the control room anyway. Marina started to ask the same thing the same time as Atlanta spoke. Or they tried too.
"But why? Besides Troy's downstairs in -" Atlanta started.
Fisher didn't appear to hear her and shut the door sharpish, almost in Marina's face. He might as well have locked it. Well it certainly felt like he'd locked them in. If only by social obligations rather than a deadbolt.
Atlanta thought she heard a clap. It wasn't from Marina. (perhaps it was a high five from the other side of the door?)
The girl stood hovering awkwardly and staring at the door, torn between orders And doing whatever she thought best.
"...Guess you'll be chasing that sounding for your next shift?" Atlanta started, trying to make conversation.
Marina gave her a short sharp disinterested nod. She was clutching her books to her like a life belt. Atlanta realised she was doing the same with her bag. Surely Now was a perfect time to speak to her friend. If they still were friends.
"Marina?" Atlanta asked. Marina looked up finally. And held her gaze a split second too long for comfort.
"How are you? And, about the other day-?"
Marina couldn't bolt as such. But she turned on her heel so sharp her skirt whipped around her, it's pearls at the hem clicking. It was almost a dismissal. Atlanta's eyes were, try as she might not be, immediately drawn to but saw nothing this time, just green material.
Marian returned to the other side of the room as far away as possible. And all Atlanta's courage and idea of fixing this odd distance went with her.
Surely Now was a perfect time to speak to her friend. If they still were friends. But Marina clearly didn't want anything more to do with her. So what was Atlanta meant to do?
Atlanta worried her lip, worrying herself, Unsure of what to do. whether to just leave for home now seeing as Troy was busy. But she didn't want him to think she'd just stood him up again.
He wouldn't be long. And she wouldn't have minded waiting here. If only for the other person in the room. Well no that was unfair? So Atlanta sat back down and turned away from Marina, finding a magazine to try and read. But then stared at the same paragraph, thinking.
It wasn't as though they were locked in a store cupboard at least. Of all the places to be trapped in; The stand-by lounge was not one Atlanta would have considered so incredibly dangerous.
And then Atlanta considered other things. Phones strange manner toward the mergirl for example. Troy asking Atlanta to meet up here then not appearing himself. Fisher clutching at reasons to insist on staying Marina in the room. And the commander even? He was in charge of setting her off duty and the Stingray crews. All of it leading up to leaving her in the standby lounge alone with Marina. This felt like Some kind of intervention…
Atlanta would later wonder if Troy had deliberately orchestrated it? Or even her father, or one of the other fellas for that matter.
( ... They had. )