A/N: So the thing I'm doing here? I have to cling to canon where Pete had no idea that Viper knows THINGS, and for that matter didn't even realize the man was his father's wingman. Also, Alan Jenkins probably did not need another reason not to trust the Navy where Pete is concerned...

Week 14 - UDC 8

66. Talk

His questions finished, Alan sat back and simply looked at Pete for a silent minute, taking in the emotional tiredness that he'd caused to make him start processing. He hated doing it, in an effort to help Pete process through things he should never have had to, that he was so young for things like this, that he hadn't even started putting the pieces together yet to see the whole picture. "I have one more question, because it came up when Walt told me about going through the pictures and talking about them."

"Okay..." Pete was looking at him funny, trying to figure him out, and Alan didn't blame him right now. Not at all.

"Would you know people from your father's squadron on sight, if you saw them?"

Pete glanced at Helen, bewildered, then shrugged. "I've been trying, but... no. I know the officer wasn't one, though. He wasn't wearing aviator wings. All I've been able to remember is call signs, not faces."

Alan nodded in acceptance, but didn't dare look at Helen to see what her reaction was. "All right, then. Nick reminded me earlier about grand gestures, so I'm telling you now, rather than springing it on you tomorrow all of the sudden and surprising you, Pete. Dinner party tomorrow night at the Tomkins house. Is that okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"You're the one who broke his arm last time you were there, you tell me." At that, Helen sniffed suddenly and he did look at her to find she was fighting back a laugh and failing.

Pete reached out to her, for her hand, and she quickly took it, then rolled his eyes tiredly. "I did not hate it there, Mr. Jenkins. I hated Bart's temper."

"But not Bart himself."

"No."

Alan nodded again. "So you'd be fine with a dinner party that will also involve toddlers."

"Yes." Pete frowned, that sentence catching up to him. "Toddlers?"

"Nicky and Maggie," Alan elaborated and Pete answered with a grin, albeit a tired one. "Ah. Are you sure you want to be a fighter pilot? I could easily see you operating a day care."

67. Silence

In the silence of the kitchen, her own laughter that she couldn't hold back at Alan's very sober humor that shouldn't have been funny was loud in her own ears and both of them smiled. "Oh, Alan! Really? A day care?"

"Sure. What do you think, Pete? Kids around ALL the time? Something to think about, isn't it?"

"I guess." Pete squeezed her hand and Helen sobered. "Sorry?"

"For what?"

"Being avoidant. Clingy. You know... when I should have talked about it."

Helen tapped the notepad that was still on the table. "This? Hard, Pete. That you were both of those things? I'd expect that. I expect nightmares and you needing to brood and process through it all. And we're talking about it now, even if Alan had to make you write it out when it's the last thing you wanted." His stomach rumbled and he blushed. "I expect that, too. Hungry?"

"Starved."

"Because working through things, good or bad, is hard work. It will never not be hard." She looked at the note pad, considering... "And from now on, we'll be keeping a notepad handy just for you to write things down that are bothering you. By the couch and in your room. Understood?"

"I think so?"

She nodded and handed Alan's pad to him, along with the pen. "Good idea?"

Alan nodded. "Very good. Composition books are also good for that."

"Are you and Mike staying for dinner?" She watched as Pete turned and looked out the window, as if he'd just realized Nick and Walt hadn't come inside.

"No," Alan said slowly as Pete turned back around with an odd expression on his face, for he knew that Alan usually came alone. "Sonia expects us, and you'll meet him tomorrow, Pete."

68. Smile

"Why'd he come with you?"

"Because he's from out of town and is staying with us for the week," Alan explained calmly. If Pete hadn't recognized that man out there, then he wasn't going to hash into it right then. Like he'd said: call signs, not faces. "This wasn't planned, to do your standing appointment today instead of tomorrow."

"Oh." Pete's stomach protested again and Helen chuckled. "Eh..."

"Guess I should finish making dinner, hmmm? Set the table, Pete." She waited, then marched Alan to the door. "Why aren't you telling him right now?"

Alan glanced back at Pete, getting plates out of the cupboard. "Because one hard thing at a time here, and he didn't recognize him from a distance. Granted, it's getting dark out there, but still."

Helen stared at him, then nodded. "And it'd be better if he got to know him as a person first, wouldn't it?"

"It would." Pete looked up right then and Alan smiled. "You be good."

"Always try to, Mr. Jenkins."

69. Laugh

When Alan came back outside, he smiled tightly at Nick. "Go help Pete set the table, kid." Nick nodded and started to go. "And Nick? Eyes open."

"Okay," Nick replied and Alan watched him go with a sigh before looking at Walt.

Walt frowned. "Was it that bad?"

"That depends on your definition," Alan said as he handed the notepad to Mike. "Is it standard operating procedure for the Navy to tell dependents that their husband and father went AWOL with a plane, when that was not, in fact, the case? Pete said he didn't recognize the officer and the man was not wearing aviator wings."

Mike squinted in the twilight to read the handwriting, half in cursive and half not, and then he was shaking his head. "No, it isn't. Not even in a case like this one."

"Thought so." Alan looked at Walt again. "This is why I'm being so cautious, Walt. I've been trying to get Pete to process, and with your family it's possible and he is, finally, a bit at a time."

70. Cry

"Bricks in a wall," Walt said after a moment, startling himself. "And emotional safety."

"Exactly that." Alan's gaze shifted to Mike, who was still staring at the notepad, lips curled in evident disgust. "And Mike? We're going to start with your name first, not your call sign, tomorrow. Person to person first, no matter what the history is."

"I want to walk in there and tell him what actually happened," Mike grumbled, the venom in his voice causing Walt to blink, startled ever so slightly.

Alan shook his head and nudged Walt. "Go on."

"You're sure?"

"As sure as I am that Pete might one day make a wonderful babysitter, if he so chose. After all, Nick is a terrific role model." Walt paused, wondering where that had come from, and followed his son inside. Then Alan looked at Mike again. "And there's no need, right now. He doesn't believe the official report."

"But still-"

They had a very long talk on the drive to Alan's home.