big chunky chapter ahead. I know its like 4x the others I didn't want to split it. heads up some nightmares ahead. if want to miss that skip from " And when did she finally slept…?" to "Atlanta? wake up!" cheers for reading.

Atlanta had partly been telling the guys the truth when she'd excused herself and left the table early. She was tired. But the exhausted sort; as well the sleepy kind. But rather than getting into her nightgown, Atlanta stood, in much the same position she had been of late: on the little balcony off her bedroom. upset and unsettled and alone. once again looking out over the marinvellie complex in the direction of Marina's home

Somehow time had snowballed and had suddenly been a week then almost fortnight since the incident. And things had only gotten worse it seemed.

Atlanta lent on the door frame, her forehead pressed to the cold glass, wishing it would give her some clarity. And wondering. Overthinking. Much as she had been every night ever since she'd seen that unfortunate mark on Marina's ankle.

Worse Atlanta had come to realize it wasn't the scar that was bothering her. Well it did but not the scar itself. Or scars themselves, given the size of that band. she wasn't sure how to phrase it even in her head . No, it was Marina's reaction to it being seen. The fact she kept it covered all this time. The distance she was putting between the two of them because Atlanta had seen it. And the distance Marina was now putting between now their friends-!

"For neptures sake." Atlanta whispered, (not sure if she was cursing herself or Marina's behavior) and wiping her eyes. She could feel them prickle with tears again. Again. Cursing didn't help. Nor did crying about it. But she couldn't help it. Atlanta went back inside, shut the sliding door with a click and Buried her head in her pillows to muffle any sob; Lest the fellas hear her over the card game. Candy seemed to be avoiding her too, unwilling to be used as a handkerchief.

That damn scar!

And now Marina was calling in sick? Jumping catfish! What was she to do?!

No, Atlanta had not been lying when she said she was a little tired. It's just she was a lot tired. And Atlanta too, had started to feel under the weather. Much like Marina she became closed off. Neither aware that in isolating themselves they were doing no good to anyone but just both spiraling downwards in opposite directions!

Under the weather was an understatement though. Atlanta had found herself stressed and snapping all the time. Her frown was becoming a permanent feature etching a little eleven between her brows. There was a constant strain in her chest, and she could practically almost feel her shoulders knot tighter under her uniform every passing day. All of this was exaggerated by her being unable to sleep. Which left Atlanta feeling even worse in the day after pacing and pacing and her equivalent of pacing for hours on end.

And when did she finally sleep…?

The dreams came.

Oh not every night. she had normal run of the mill dreams too if she got to sleep. But enough of those dreams to keep her on edge and avoid her bed. Plus the dreams had steadily gotten weirder. Darker. Until they really were nightmares, causing her to bolt awake. Much like the first night or so after the events she'd faced at the oil rigs, being kidnapped right from Stingray's bunk. Until Atlanta started to put off sleeping and relying on coffee to keep her going, just as her father had been when the Cobalt mining operation reopened.

Atlanta was not always able to remember clearly what happened in the morning. Just snippets. Just the cold. A lonely helpless feeling. Water filled the control tower; sometimes seeping in slow and menacing, sometimes rapids that were up to her wait and her father's shoulders before she could do anything. Calls for help bubbling in her throat unheard. giant deep sea fish swimming circling over marinville, their eyes filling up the tower windows, angry and hateful or mouths glowing. Her own mouth being gagged, wrists bound. or shadows in her bedroom doorway. Phophencent light in the dark. The battle stations drums but often far away, slightly off key or their rhythm wrong. Horrible laughter, cackling. Dead radios, dead video feeds. Far off explosions. Bright flowers. Metal chains. Thick rope. Red ribbons caught about ankles...

The worst ones were when they involved Marina herself, as opposed to feelings of worrying about her.

Atlanta would be lost in the water surrounding a wrong looking Pacifica. Think chains were wrapped around its shell like an ancient lock box. Atlanta swam around it, in her uniform rather than anything helpful like a scuba suit, knowing Marina was out there but not able to find her. Just chasing glances of green hair or a green dress and pearls, with Oink at her heels tripping her up and biting her ankles. until something else, Something solid clamped on her ankles hard enough to draw blood and Atlanta knew it was going to scar.

Or Marina shaking free her foot, still snared in the ribbon. Marina pushed Atlanta away and outswam her, till Atlanta lost sight of her in seaweed forests in dark murky water and bright flowers that had sprung up in a flooded Marinville. Or the opposite happened and Marina was clinging to her hand, both pulled along as something dragged Marina down. She slipped out of Atlanta's grasp, swallowed up by black oily water calling out to her. Calling out in a voice that awake Atlanta knew wasn't real, but it seemed in the dreams so real it brought her out in goosebumps to think of..

Or worse… worse were the ones where Atlanta found herself to be the one dragging Marina down by her ankle.

Marina looked down at her with a look of horror on her face. Marina waved her hands, spilling bright paper flowers. That wasn't sign language but in the dream Atlanta understood the Pacifican gesture.

"Why?!" Marina cried without moving her lips, kicking out. "why?"

Atlanta shook her head and tried to explain.

I just want to talk, she yelled. Then gasped and took on water in her lungs as something clamped on her ankles hard enough to draw blood and Atlanta knew it was going to scar.

But her voice wouldn't work and Marina couldn't understand her. If they could just get to Stingray-! Phones could help translate. Troy would know what to do. Marina would just stay put-! but then she pulled her ankle free from Atlanta's grip and the stepladder would go over and she'd be lost And and And-!

"Atlanta!"

Atlanta jerked awake, her head breaking the surface of the water. Only to then realize she was on dry land and someone was shaking her and yelling at her.

"Atlanta! Wake up!"

"Father?" Atlanta croaked. Commander Shore was indeed at her side, leaning right out of his chair to grip her arm.

"Atlanta?" he asked. Then, relieved, said "Blistering barnacles don't scare me like that, baby! Are you alright?"

"Yeah? I think so?" she asked groggily. "What happened?"

"You were having a nightmare is what happened!" He scowled. With some effort he straightened up in his chair without completely letting her go. "And what in the name of Poseidon are you doing asleep in here anyway?!"

Atlanta blinked and looked around. They were indeed at the breakfast table even though it was dark out. Papers and notes were scattered in front of her and now she was more awake she could feel a hot imprint on her cheek where she'd slept funny on her hand.

"I guess I dozed off." she admitted quietly.

"In here? At the table?"

"I couldn't sleep so I came to catch up on my paperwork!" Atlanta said, sourly.

Her father said nothing to her sudden attitude, although he flinched.

"Sweetheart," he said instead. "you're shivering."

Atlanta gulped. He was right. and her hands trembled even as she folded her arms to hide it. "I'm alright father. It was just a bad dream."

"Sure…" He said not believing her. "How bad?"

Atlanta shook her head. "Awful." she admitted. "I don't want to talk about it father, it was silly. Just a dream."

"Just a dream, she says, at the dining table! "he scowled. Then frowned. "Say, I thought you were out with Tempest tonight?"

"What!?" Atlanta leapt out of her chair, looking for her calendar in her filefax. Cinema with Troy 8pm 3 was underlined twice and circled. "Oh shoot. No, I was meant to-. I forgot. I thought it was tomorrow-!"

"Well now that's not like you." her father said.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Atlanta retorted. But then the fight left her as quickly as it came and she sank back into the seat. "It's late, I'll call him tomorrow and apologize."

"It's only about half eight." the commander replied. "I just got home myself and the first thing I hear is you talking in your sleep in your pajamas! You only came off shift a few hours ago yourself."

"I was tired so I was trying to get an early night! But then I couldn't sleep. I just meant to get my report done first." Atlanta huffed, gesturing to the mess of paper. "I'm on the first watch tomorrow-!"

"No you're on the second." the commander corrected. "weren't you paying attention to this afternoon's briefing?"

Atlanta opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again drawing a blank. Sam made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a sigh.

"I'll radio Troy." he said, powering up his chair and swiveling it around. "Save him worrying or breaking my front door down again."

"Tell him I'm sorry." Atlanta asked. The commander said he would. then paused in the arch way and turned back.

"Sure you don't wanna talk to him yourself? He's your fancy boy, not mine."

But Atlanta shook her head, head in her hands. Then on top of her folded arms. She heard her dad sigh. Heard the brief exchange in the other room over the radio and an excuse for her not feeling well. and something of a secretive tone but she didn't have the energy to care. She meant to flee to her room to avoid any more questions but was too tired to do anything but sit there. Even as her father and troys exchanged See you tomorrows. She might have fallen back asleep had her dad not Squeezed her shoulders.

"I am ordering you, no more damn coffee. no wonder you haven't been sleeping right." He grumbled as he moved past her to the actual kitchen door. "Let me put some coco on. Or do you want one of those fancy teas?"

"I've been sleeping fine-!" Atlanta lied. The table muffled it somewhat.

"And I'm king of the Atlantic!" her father scoffed. "You're gonna make yourself sick 'Lanta. In fact you are making yourself ill already."

"It's not-" she started, sitting up. "I'm not sick dad."

"I'm saying you're making yourself sick."

"Father, I'm fine!" Atlanta snapped.

"Fine? This is fine?! What has gotten into you?" Sam snapped right back. "Go back to bed. I'll bring your drink to you-"

"You go to bed." she scoffed then cringed at how childish it sounded. "I need to put these away first." and started tidying up.

"Ill deal with them don't you worry-"

"I'm not worried!" Atlanta said. loudly. Irritated. So much so she ended up slapping one particular folder down. hard.

They didn't argue. Not like this. But Atlanta was still every bit her father's daughter and had just as much of every bit of fighting spirit and fire he had.

Sam goggled at her, swinging his chair back around.

"What's that meant to mean?!" he asked, matching her volume.

"Nothing. It means nothing." Atlanta said with gritted teeth. "Really father. There's nothing to talk about!"

"Funny looking nothing-!" her dad shot. "Confound it, Atlanta, talk to me will yeh?!"

"Will you stop going on and on at me?!" Atlanta shot back. "You know what, fine, look!"

She dropped the papers on the table where they scattered and made to storm off.

"See, I'm going to bed. Happy?"

"oh no you don't! You stay right there missy." her dad called out, Whizzing his chair around and blocking her path.

"Oh make up your mind!" Atlanta stressed, seething.

"Go and sit back down!"

"Don't treat me like a child!"

"Don't you raise your voice at me like that-!" Sam shot back the argument boiling over. "what has happened to you?!"

"Nothing. Nothing happened! Not to me!"

"Then what the hell is this about?"

"You don't understand!"

"Try me! Neptune's beard, how can any of us help if you wont talk to me?!"

"How!? Forget about father! I don't want to talk about it-! I CAN'T talk about it!"

Atlanta suddenly found her in her father's face leaning over his chair-!

"Atlanta?!"

And snapped out of it. She blinked horrified, and pulled herself up right, disgusted at herself, her pulse rattling in her ears. For a split second her father looked as shaken as she felt. But then the commander instead berated her.

"Atlanta, this can't continue!" he demanded her. "Now what in blazes has been going on with you recently? Troy's been asking after you, you've been missing his calls and now you miss a date too? You've all over the place! You're struggling at work- don't tell me you're not! Phones is worried. Fisher too, and Marina-! Actually I've no idea what's going on with that girl either, but she's been worried about you too. I know she has. As am I! We're fighting! They're your friends and you're shutting them out. You're not looking after yourself. and honestly that's starting to scare me more than anything and. Oh. oh no-!"

There was a Sob. Atlanta threw a hand over her mouth trying to force it back or smother it.

But it was no good. With a burst of tears and raw emotion the dam Atlanta had been building finally broke.

"Oh Sweet heart no! No, don't cry!" her father tried. But much like telling someone not to worry has the opposite effect, trying not to cry only makes someone cry harder. Atlanta crumpled against his chair, Head in her hands and wept against his shoulder. HArd. Hard enough for her old man to break out the pet names and forget they'd been mid blazing row.

"What's the matter? Hey hey Atty." Sam tried. He wrapped her back up in his arms again, pulling her close as he could. "Please don't cry atty, dad's here. There there sweetheart I got you. What on earth's the matter? If Troy tempest or anyone else had said anything to upset you, I am on it. Let your old man handle this. What's got you feeling so sick, eh?"

Atlanta tried awsnering. She really did. Instead all that came out was jargon and sobs. Her dad rubbed her shoulders, kissed and petted her hair. Told her it'd all work out fine. And Atlanta she cried and cried till she simply couldn't any more.

"Sit back down sweetheart. Let me fix you that drink and look after you for a change yeah?"

Atlanta sniffled. And nodded. But stayed in the hug until her breathing evened out. And until she was sure her legs would work again and she could get up off the tiled floor. Then, over cocoa at the kitchen table she told her father everything. Well, everything to a degree…