Another bigger chapter ahead. I'm really proud of how chapters 12 and 13 have turned out not gonna lie. This is probably going to be the last update for couple of weeks as I've a few Stingray oneshots and some diffrent fandoms stuff I want to work on instead. Thanks for reading

"It's nothing I ort to be worried about is it?" Father asked from the kitchen as he set to making them the promised coco. Atlanta sniffled. "As an officer I mean?"

"It's… Nothing work related, sir." she said tactfully.

"Huh alright then…"

There was a few minutes of unquiet quiet. Where the only sounds were the crumpling of tissues, Atlanta mopping at her face, Shore fumbling the stove, and a few muttered curses as he set the pan of milk on to heat.

"Say er, Atlanta…?" he asked.

She looked up at him. And the Commander looked the most awkward and ill at ease she'd seen her father in a while. He cleared his throat. "She's not -you're not-..." he tried. Then in a rush.

"Nobody's in the 'Family way' are they?"

"What?!" Atlanta squawked. "NO!"

"Oh thank thunder!" And Shore relaxed tenfold.

"Father!"

"What? Can you blame me for worrying 'bout that?!" he huffed and went back to the kitchen, muttering. "You've been so odd recently! And so have the others including M-"

"Give me some credit!" she interrupted, getting to her feet and calling after him. "No, it's nothing even remotely like that! No, I'm not pregnant! You-! You really think I'd be so, so-!"

"You know I'd support you right?! if that- that ever happened? Even if it was an accident or stupid!" Sam shrugged off, pouring out their drinks. Although he was blushing. " This site is full of bright young things. It's gonna happen to someone. I'm just worried about you."

"It's Definitely not that sort of problem! "

"Okay, Good!"

Atlanta sat back down and sulked, blushing as red as her hair. It had shocked out of her crying, at least she thought sourly.

"No one's pregnant." Atlanta scowled and mumbled, pulling on her tissue. "I would have told you first I was!"

"Well I'm darn glad to hear. So what is it that's got you so worked up then?" her father asked, coming back to the table.

Atlanta sighed. And as he set a mug in front of her, Atlanta told her father as much as she could. Which wasn't a lot. She wished whole heartily she could tell him everything. Atlanta didn't like keeping secrets from her father, But She couldn't break Marina's trust like that.

So she told her father everything…. just not stating it was Marina who she was and had been worrying about. just ' a dear friend' . (Atlanta did after all have other friends on base and off site and from outside of the WASPs besides a handful of people she was always with. Not a ton, sure, but enough.)

And Atlanta skipped over when and where of the incident; and left out the stepladder so her dad wouldn't be able to pinpoint it.

She didn't describe the scar in detail either. That wasn't on purpose. Atlanta just found herself really struggling to put that bit into words. Without exaggeration the band, with its pink and blue and jagged edges, was awful to describe accurately.

If Sam Shore twigged she was lying by omission or evasion he didn't let on. Had Atlanta not been so on edge he might not have taken such a thing as seriously. Any other time he might have dismissed Atlanta's problem as a friendly spat.

Much like he had Atlanta's original concerns about Marina, Childish and unfounded as they were. But To his credit, Shore listened to his daughter.. He sat and listened , extremely patiently which was unusual for him; with a stubby cigar between his lips. Which was not unusual. He'd litten it twice, but it had gone out both times so he settled for just chewing on it.

"What do I do father?" Atlanta finished. "It isn't my worry or problem to share, but you're right, this can't go on. "

"That", he said, taking the cigar out of his mouth as was his habit and pointing with it. "I can't tell you."

Atlanta stared at him. Mouth open. "Well that's a first, I must say!"

"Well, it sounds like there's not a lot you can do other than mind your own business." Sam shrugged, leaning back in his seat. He'd also changed out of his uniform jacket and hoisted himself into a chair at the table while she'd explained her dilemma.

"And just be there for this friend of yours. But you, you are taking too much on yourself Atlanta. You need to step back, hard as it is. But you know them more than me, so… Play it by ear?"

"You've seen scars before." he continued. "Some pretty bad ones. What's so special about this one to get you so worked up over?"

"Because it looks like-." Atlanta started. Stopped, tried again. "It looked real nasty, father. And I think it..or they, were made. Not just accidental. By someone else."

"Right… well that does change things I guess." He frowned, chewing on his cigar. "Have they said anything to you?"

"No." Atlanta said bitterly. Of course Marina hadn't said anything! "They're avoiding me. A lot. They're not answering my calls."

The commander looked confused at this. "Why? What did you do?"

"Nothing! At least I don't think I did." Atlanta frowned back. "I think… I think they're scared. I think they think I want to ..I don't know, say something about it? I mean I do, but only to make sure they're okay. Not to others or make an announcement. Certainly given it was clearly meant to be kept hidden."

Sam nodded. "Well then maybe Sit tight and wait for them to come to you? Then explain that you will keep their secret and then don't bring it up again."

"I've been waiting-!" Atlanta "Thats why ive been so-!" She waved her hand in a vague gesture unable to find words. Much like Marina. Oh Shoot. Atlanta pouted at her cocoa then sighed. And put her head in hands again.

"I want things to go back to normal." she admitted. "I'm worried they think I've told other people about it. Not just you."

"Are you going to?"

Atlanta peeked at him through her fingers. "No. That wouldn't be right. "

"You called Tempest to my bedroom at stupid o'clock."

Atlanta rolled her eyes putting her hands back down..

"Yes and you weren't happy about it. As you keep reminding me! But you needed someone to talk to because you wouldn't talk to me and going out in Stingray gave you your answers. This isn't something I think Troy can fix…not yet anyway."

"Then stop worrying."

"That's not helpful father! What would you do then?"

"Me? Personally I would leave well alone."

"But I can't-!" Atlanta snapped. "Believe me, I've been trying."

"You asked me what I'd do. And that's what I would do!" Sam huffed.

Atlanta huffed back and didn't say anything not wanting another argument. Her father sighed.

"I'd leave well alone…" he said again. Something that your mother would not have advised, mind."

"Yeah…'' Atlanta agreed. "What would mom have said, do you reckon?"

"Not a lot." He said, dismissively. Atlanta looked at him. Her father was quiet for a moment. Sometimes he didn't want to talk about her. Several years wasn't the big hole Elaine Shore had left in both their lives.

But then her dad let go of his mug and reached for her hand.

"Not a lot." He repeated. Then chuckled " Not before she was already moving. You'd have told her what you told me about someone having a problem. and before you could 'say what do I do, mom?!'"

"I don't sound like that-!" Atlanta interrupted.

"No but listen; you'd have asked. And you know Elaine would've had it halfway around the darn base in twenty minutes. In an hour banded together with every other wife partner and what have you. and by the end of shift, the poor sucker you were worried about would have fruit pies, hot pots and flowers on every flat surface of their apartment!" her dad smirked.

Atlanta smiled back Fondly and squeezed his hand, knowing it to be true.

"That's what I got for marrying a Scot I suppose. Or great granddaughter of one anyway." he complained. Then in a softer tone again continued. "I loved her sweetheart. Still love her. She was my Ellie-bird. Always will be. But you know fine well that she could be fierce if someone was in difficulty. Especially you. And Ellie couldn't keep an ounce of gossip or an issue that wasn't strikingly work related to herself. Not when we were at school, and especially not at the service wives husbands and partners club. Even if my Elaine's heart was always in the right place."

"And you got that heart princess!" He reminded Atlanta. "Yours is so much like your mother's. It's big and warm and filled a lot of love for your friends . So much love in you sometimes you don't know where to put it. And then you get all worried over nothing." he complained with a tap on her forehead. And Succeed in getting a smile out of her.

"Don't ever let anyone make you feel bad about that love. Or make you close that heart up." he said wagging his finger at her turning tier clasped and up to kiss the back of her hand before letting it go. "Not even this grumpy old coot."

"Thanks dad." Atlanta Sniffed tearing up again. She wiped her eyes, running her hand through her hair. It felt dry and frizzy, and still flat on one side where she'd slept on it. "I just feel so useless."

"Sometimes being around and feeling useless is all you can do." The commander shrugged sadly. "Maybe follow your mothers example and make them something. Marina likes baking in the kitchen with you, doesn't she. Maybe she could help you out?"

"That might make the situation even weirder.'' Atlanta sighed. She could hardly ask marina to help make her own 'Sorry about your scar' cake.

"What? Why?"

Atlanta blinked, shook off the image and shrugged. "I don't think it would be appreciated. Or appropriate."

"A real tough one then eh?" Her father teased. "Must be if Can't be solved with a pie."

Atlanta only hummed in In agreement.

"Okay then Let me ask this sweetheart? Is me bawling them out going to help? Or go in all guns blazing and give them the hiding of a lifetime?"

"Now why in the world would you do that?" Atlanta frowned

" I don't need an excuse, I'm the Commander." He scoffed.

"Alright but On what grounds?" She pressed..

"On the grounds Making you sad!" the commander said seriously. "That's high treason in my book."

"That is an abuse of your position Father." Atlanta Reminded him sternly. But then she couldn't keep a straight face. And her dad broke out into a smile too.

"Would it help though?"

"No." she Chuckled and felt better about it.

"Okay okay. But listen If it were an exercise or a mission i'd be telling you think Tactics. Remember your training. Leave your emotions at the door. Right?"

"That last one I always struggle with." Atlanta admitted.

"Maybe. But this isn't the control tower. this is one of them things I think you need to let your heart decide."

"My heart?"

"I was wrong." Then amended, "maybe."

Atlanta looked up at him shocked but Shore was unwilling to repeat it.

" I would keep my mouth shut. That's what I would do." he said. "but I think you do need to talk about this, all you told me to your 'friend'. Not so much asking about as such but you need to bite the bullet and ask them if they are okay. If they need anything from you.

"Father, that's what I've been trying to do!" Atlanta frowned. "How many times do I have to say it?"

"Hear me out." her dad asked. "That's what you've been trying to do. Are you sure you want to? If their distancing themself is causing you to distance yourself from your other friends here in Marinville, from me? is their friendship with this misery and heartache you are putting yourself through?"

It wasn't often her father talked in such philosophical ways. Atlanta thought hard. And fought heart.

"I think so?" she said eventually. "I hope so… Our friendship means a lot to me. More than I had realized. And I miss- I miss them.

"I'm worried that they're upset with me or scared. But what's worse, I'm worried they're reliving it, whatever caused this mark; that me seeing it is causing them nightmares. Just like I've been having because I'm worried for them. And they haven't anyone they can talk to about it. At all. No one. But I want them to know I am their friend."

Her father regarded her for a moment then let out a low whistle. "Must have been pretty rough for your friend huh?"

"Yeah…I don't know how bad." Atlanta mumbled.

"Then make sure they know you are there for them! But go tenfold on what you've done so far. If they're avoiding you then, well, Close this gap. Force it closed I mean. Football tackle them in a hug if you have too. Get 'stuck' in the same elevator. Drag them into a bathroom or a supply cupboard." he insisted, "If calling on the video phone or radio won't work, Maybe send a letter to check in with her- I mean them. Paint on their window or their yard if you have too."

Atlanta frowned at the slip up but the commander continued.

"You stay silent and let this fester, you risk losing this person's friendship. And they risk losing yours. And those around it."

"I know." Atlanta agreed. "I know. I guess I didn't make it any better tonight."

"Pushing yourself to the breaking point? You can't fix trauma and other people's problems for them, 'Lanta." he reminded her sadly. Atlanta sniffled. "Come here."

She pulled her chair over to his. And let him hold her again.

Because sometimes bright young communication officers need a reminder to communicate. Sometimes Wasp members need just a big old hug from their dads.

Atlanta didn't cry this time. But her breath shuddered and she still blinked back tears again.

"Shush its okay. Its okay baby. All you can do is keep making your friend's life as happier here as it can be and by being in their life." he said hugging her tight again. "Not hide away and bottle things up. And relax sweetheart. It'll all work out."

"Relax?" Atlanta scoffed. "There's something neither of us are good at doing."

"True. Imagine afraid you get that from both sides of the family. Shores and Donald's. Along with the temperaments." He smirked. Then Leaned up and kissed her on her forehead.

"It'll work out." He repeated, and gave her a gentle shove. "Now go get some damn sleep. In bed this time!"

"Alright. Oh goodness," Atlanta had got up and collected their empty cups, but then saw the clock. "Look at the time-! What about that report, Father? And i need to get both of us ready for tomorrow"

"Forget about it. I'll clean up here too. I might be in a chair but I can make my own pack lunch for a change." Father insisted, taking the empty cups off her. "And Atlanta? Have a lie in. I'll get one of the coms corporals to cover your shift."

"Cover-? But-!"

"But nothing. It'll get some more tower hours under their belts. You missy, get paid sick days. You're gonna use one for a change." He told her. "You are absolutely not to go into work tomorrow, unless there's an emergency. I forbid it!"

"Are you saying that as my father or my commanding officer?"

"Both if need be. Don't think you're old enough for me not to ground you." He teased. "Go on, get out of here."

Atlanta kissed on his cheek, giving him another squeeze. wished him goodnight and went to get ready for bed all over again.

A problem sort shared wasn't halved. But talking to her father had helped ease the emotional migraine she'd been suffering from. And for the first time in nearly a fortnight Atlanta slept soundly. Well ish. Sound enough, especially with a lie in to catch up on sleep.

A few days later Atlanta put her old man's advice into practice. She did indeed catch Marina on her own.

Not exactly in a voluntary manner mind…