Another week came and was nearly spent.

Like the last, Angie felt it had its ups and downs. There was a bittersweet ache to having the things from hers and Mommy's house at home now. The music box Mommy used to keep in her room was on a bookshelf in the corner of the living room next to the dancing bear and wolf figurine. They hung the paintings Angie brought back in her room across from her bed and her books were in their rightful place on her shelf. Her big Lego bin was supposed to be in her room if she wasn't using it, but after the first night of her dad watching hockey while simultaneously building cool creations with her at the coffee table, Angie left it out there, hoping maybe he would play with her again…whenever he had the time.

Her clothing was all put away in the closet now, and the front hall closet housed her skipping rope, bike helmet, a bunch more shoes and her various weather specific coats. Then there were the games that she found just before Mommy's blanket. They lived on the previously empty bottom shelf in the living room next to the overflow of Angie's books.

The child was perceptive enough to get the sense that Scott wasn't accustomed to having so many things in the house and that, like with everything when it came to her, he was forced to adjust his lifestyle to accommodate her. Guilt prickled at her constantly whenever something happened to remind her that she'd 'upset' his life. Even after he reassured her on the day she ran away, telling her he loved her and wanted her, Angie still felt like she made his life 'too complicated' and had uncomfortable feelings about the conversation she overheard concerning the parts about her, not Ronda.

It's understandable then that Angie was sensitive to any displeasure on the part of her father for something she did or didn't do. She learned very quickly not to leave her Lego in the middle of the living room floor, especially not in the space where people walked. Scott hadn't yelled, but from her room she heard him swear and when he came to find her a minute later, he was too controlled as he told her to put the Lego away if she wasn't using it, saying if he stepped on it again he was taking it away for a week.

A small thing, but it translated enough as irritation despite the mask of calm that Angie took it to heart. Shortly after that, her dad got 'spun up' suddenly so they never got to have stories or cuddles that evening which usually made her feel better about everything.

Angie drew another ring of flowers around her blank page meant for math homework, reminding herself sternly that Daddy had still given her a big hug before he left this time and told her he loved her. That still couldn't erase that feeling of being a burden though. It sat so deep and festered in a way Angie couldn't even put words to.

"Alright class!" Ms. Finch's voice drew Angie from the deep, serious land of thoughts. "That's all the time you have today. Whatever you didn't get done in class, you'll need to do tonight. We'll be taking up the answers tomorrow."

Blinking owlishly at the clock, Angie saw it was the end of the day finally.

"Angie," Ms. Finch paused by her desk. "That's some really beautiful drawings!"

"Oh!" Angie looked down at her page of still not started math homework. "Thank you!"

"Of course! It looks really nice…but, can you tell me why you didn't get any of the math work done?" Ms. Finch asked quietly, crouching next to her desk and watching her with a soft, knowing understanding. Around them the other kids were packing up and Angie could feel Summer and Sarah whispering about her.

"I don't know." Angie said lamely.

"Do you understand the work?" Ms. Finch asked.

Not wanting to admit she hadn't been paying attention in class while it was being explained, and not wanting Summer and Sarah to have more to gossip about, Angie nodded.

"Yes. I understand it."

"Ok! Well, I hope you can get it all done tonight. If you have any trouble, come see me at the start of the day tomorrow and we can walk through it, ok?"

"Ok!"

"Who's picking you up today?" Ms. Finch asked, walking her to the door of her classroom.

"I don't know. It might be my dad, but…he might still be working."

Behind them, Summer whispered to Sarah not quietly enough, "Probably shooting people."

"Or stabbing them." Sarah hissed back. "I heard my Uncle say once that they even kill people with their bare hands! Bet he's out there doing that!"

Ms. Finch turned sharply and her voice held a razor sharp edge as she said, "Girls! What an awful thing to say!"

Summer and Sarah froze, startled at being caught and momentarily scrambling to gain ground.

"He's a soldier." Sarah said carefully, as if she were trying to sound grown up. "That's what they do. Fight and stuff. It's just a fact."

Ms. Finch stared at them both before turning to Angie and saying quietly, "I need to speak with Summer and Sarah. You have a good evening, Angie."

Not daring to look over her shoulder, Angie darted from the class to catch up with Jameelah.

Her 'cousin' was talking excitedly with Autumn and Lily about the pool party that weekend. Pretending to be just as excited, Angie shoved the sick feeling in her gut away for the millionth time that week. Only problem was that this time the feeling was exponentially worsened by the thought of her father stabbing or shooting people.

When they reached the parking lot, that sick feeling wasn't gone and Angie wanted to cry from the conflicting emotions swirling around her when she saw her dad waiting there while talking to Uncle Ray. He had a visible bruise on the side of his cheek along with some nicked skin across his nose and scraps on his knuckles.

She hadn't seen him in two days, nearly three now. That alone made her desperate to run to him and be in his arms. However, the poisonous words of her classmates lingered, holding her back as she studied him, wondering and trying to block out the pictures in her head that surfaced. They were inspired by a scene in a movie she'd seen at an old friend's house that neither child had been supposed to be watching with the older siblings…a terrible, violent movie with big men like Daddy killing each other. Mommy had been furious when she found out. So had her friend's mother. Angie had nightmares for weeks about it.

As she approached, the serious expression Scott held while talking to Uncle Ray vanished and he came half the distance to meet her, warmth softing the lines around his mouth in the form of a smile. There was no false air about him. He was genuinely happy to see her.

"There's my girl!" He said, stooping down, ready to hug her as space between them closed. "How was school, little bear?"

Seeing his eagerness to reach her, and the willingness to hold her evaporated some of the fear in Angie's heart, just as it always did when they were together again. It was as if being apart made her doubt who her dad was to her, painting an image of someone she couldn't fathom him being instead.

Biting her lips together, Angie reached her arms up so she could wrap them around his neck and shoulders to get spun around. She buried her face in his shoulder and held on a moment longer than usual after the twirl through the air. The magic of having his arms around her was keeping the fear and sick feeling away. She didn't want it to end.

A hand cupped the back of her head.

"You alright?"

Angie nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak.

"Bad day?" Daddy asked, taking her to the truck without pulling her down for a change.

"Kinda…" Angie held on tighter still once she was set up in her spot in the truck, tears suddenly creeping up her throat as one truth at least came up. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, little bear." For once Scott didn't seem in a hurry to get moving or bent on sticking to a schedule like they usually did because he kept his arms around her when she didn't let go and pressed a kiss into the crown of her head. "How much homework do you have?"

Without thinking and completely forgetting about her math homework in the face of knowing her dad was about to suggest they go do something, Angie said eagerly, "None. I got it all done."

"Then we should get you in the pool again. Saturday's not too far away now."

"Ok." Angie agreed. If it meant being with her dad, more important being held by her dad, and not thinking too much about those horrible things in her mind, Angie was happy to do it.

"Let's go then," Timeline Scott was back, gently pulling away and helping her get her backpack off. "I've already packed your swimsuit."

Of course he had.

Angie couldn't say she was particularly excited to go swimming immediately, but she kept that to herself. Instead she clipped herself in and waited for the truck to start moving. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Summer and Sarah glaring daggers at her as they passed the window on their way to their own ride home, reminding her once again everything they'd said and forcing her eyes to focus on the bruise on Scott's face again.

"Those two giving you grief?"

Daddy was watching her now in the rearview mirror. He must have seen the looks the two girls gave her.

Not ready to tell him the whole thing because she was afraid of what his answer would be, Angie forced herself to become as confident as Elsa and said, "They're just mean girls. That's all."

"Fair enough. Wanna talk about it?"

Angie faltered. Every time he asked that question it damaged her resolve not to talk about something because of how he said it. She knew it was entirely up to her through its open, inviting and non judgmental growl. Part of her deeply wished to tell him.

"M-maybe…maybe later…" Angie said, finding the edge of her sweater very interesting all the sudden. "I'm not ready to talk about it yet."

"Ok. I'm here when you are."

Scrambling to think of something else to talk about so she wouldn't blurt it all out or start crying, Angie asked, "Do I have to put my head under this time?"

The last time they swam after school earlier that week, Daddy had said they needed to work on her fear of having her head go under. She wasn't sure if that was going to happen tonight or not.

Scott flicked a glance at her again before saying, "We'll see how it goes."

By the time they were in the water, Angie was having trouble concentrating on swimming. On one hand that was almost a good thing. She did it automatically and proved to herself she could be braver than she thought, but apparently only if her brain was getting distracted by scarier thoughts that intruded into her imagination.

Exhausted from fighting them every time she spotted a new 'dinged up' spotted on her dad, regardless of how small they were, Angie stopped mid swim across the width of the shallows. She put her feet down and reached for him.

His hands took her forearms as he said, "Why'd you stop? You were crushing it!"

"…Daddy…can't I just swim with you for a little?"

"What's going on?"

Angie swallowed a whimper and shook her head, not making eye contact as she nearly begged, "Please?"

"Alright. Come here. You gonna to be my weight?"

"Uh huh." Angie nodded. She just needed to be near him. If she was closer, then the thoughts would stop.

"Ok. How do you feel about a trip to the deep end?"

Angie snaked her arms around his neck, a familiar action now, and hid her face in the crook of his neck, mumbling, "Ok."

"Are you sure?"

Clenching her eyes shut while staying still and small, Angie nodded. Fear of drowning was dull and always there, but in the last three visits to the pool with her dad this week she'd come to know without a doubt that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. He kept her safe and as long as he had her she didn't mind the depth of the water so much anymore.

The trip to the deeper water was almost calming this time. Angie even opened her eyes with her head resting lazily on his shoulder once he started moving through a set of swimming practices of his own.

When there was only about ten minutes left of the swimming time, he stopped and gently pried her loose so he could see her face, still on the deep end.

"I have a deal for you." He said.

"What kind of deal?"

"I will read an extra chapter of the book tonight if you try dunking your head under."

They were nearly done with The Hobbit. An extra chapter meant starting a whole new book, which meant Scott still intended to read to her after this and Angie dearly wished for that to be the case.

"How long do I have to go under for?" Angie asked, trying to ignore the clenching panic in her gut at the idea of her head going under the water.

"As long as you like."

Angie slowly unwrapped her arms, letting herself float away from her dad while still clinging tightly to his arms.

"W-will you hang onto me?"

"Of course."

"And…and if I get too scared…?"

"I'll pull you out and still tell you how proud I am of you."

Satisfied, Angie gathered her courage and took a breath, death grip on Daddy's forearms and drawing comfort from the fact his hands were hovering close to her. Then she dunked under the water, immersing her whole head.

The second the water rushed over her hair, Angie scrambled to surface again. Scott pulled her up the rest of the way and back into the crook of his arm so Angie could grapple her thin limbs around him again and hide, breathing a little too hard and shivering.

"Good job!"

"I don't like it." Angie gulped.

"I know. You still did it. I'm proud of you."

"Can we get out now?" Angie asked, grip tightening as unbidden memories rose. She had vague impressions of not being able to breath and things going black.

"We can." Scott was already making his way to the edge of the pool. "Take a breath. You're safe. I've got you."

The gentle reminder accompanied by the strong arm around her while her dad swam with the other helped chase away the fear, grounding her to reality.

Over the years of his work, Metal had done a few field interrogations. Each time he'd managed to persuade the individual to talk. None had ever been harder to crack than his own kid.

To say she was off today would be an understatement. Her brain was a thousand miles away during swimming, she hardly ate dinner, she couldn't make eye contact with him and yet she was positively clingy at the same time, as if whatever was going on in her head kept igniting the unquenchable need of her's to be close to him.

Now they were on opposite couches, by her own choosing. Angie was presumably reading a book, except that she couldn't sit still and her big brown eyes kept flicking over the top of the page to studying him with that same troubled, almost frightened crease between her eyebrows.

Not looking up from his phone as he flicked through emails and messages, Metal finally couldn't leave it alone any longer and said, "Angie, I can feel you thinking at me. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

That came out way too quickly. There was absolutely something on her mind. She'd been too quiet ever since he picked her up from school.

"I don't believe that for a second. If something is going on or you have questions, ask. Better to get 'em in the open than let 'em fester."

Rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, Angie visibly gathered courage, wrapped her arms around herself and asked in a painfully small voice, "Some…some girls at school said…that people in the military-"

Angie trailed off, obviously fighting to get the words to come out. Scott waited, hoping this wasn't going where he thought it was going.

"Daddy?" Angie was close to tears now, he could hear it. "D-do you…with your job…do you kill people?"

There it was. He was wondering if and when that one would come up. Jason and Ray warned him about it but even with being prepared for it, he felt sucker punched.

Bracing himself and taking a deep breath, Metal put his phone down and gave her his full attention. No amount of preparation and planning could make this conversation easy and he still wasn't convinced he would do a good job. Still, he had to try. The kid deserved it.

"Before I answer that, I'm going to ask a couple questions of my own, if that's alright."

"Ok," Angie frowned at him as she eyed him with that sharp intelligence of hers mixed with so much turmoil it nearly broke his heart.

Forcing himself to stay neutral and his keep own discomfort hidden, he asked, "If there were bad guys who went into a school or into people's homes and just started to take people away, or to hurt them…would you want someone to stop the bad guys and protect those people so they could get home safely again?"

Brow tugging closer together, Angie nodded, "Yes."

"Even if it meant that the people doing the protecting might have to kill the bad guys?"

Conflicted, Angie shifted, "W-well, how bad are the bad guys? Would the bad guys kill the people?"

"Yes."

"Even…even kids?"

Wincing, Metal nodded. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Is that what you do when you leave? Do you kill bad guys who would kill good people?"

"Yes, sometimes. Not always."

"And you make sure the good people are ok?" He could see Angie struggling to put the pieces together in a way that her young mind could reconcile.

"Yes."

"And you take care of the kids so they can go home?"

Such a simple question shouldn't be able to dig so deeply. The naivety of it was too pure and precious to be having this conversation.

Sparing her the sharp, harsh realities that came with his work, he nodded again and said, "Yes. We especially take care of the kids we're sent to help."

Angie shivered and looked at her hands, anxiety still making her voice small with a slight shake.

"How…how many people have you killed?"

The blunt, innocent curiosity and need to know was crushing, but he'd promised her he'd always be as honest as possible, so Metal answered truthfully. "I don't know."

"Were they all bad guys?"

"Yes."

"Is it scary?"

"Sometimes, yeah, a little."

"Do people try to kill you too?" Fear spiked in her words and she started picking at a scab on her knee without mercy.

Choosing his words carefully, Metal said quietly, "Sometimes bad guys might try to hurt us, yes. And I know that sounds really scary but I have my team, all your uncles, looking out for me just like I look out for them. We take care of each other and keep each other safe, and we're really good at it."

Angie fell silent, abandoning picking at her scab when it started to bleed and moving on to fidgeting with the ends of her hair instead.

Getting up slowly, he went to crouch in front of her, carefully touching her foot so she would look at him.

"How you doing with all that?"

The kid drew a shuddering breath that hinted at coming tears and she braved a glance up at him, holding it longer than she had all evening.

"I don't know."

"Ok." Ready to accept whatever answer she gave to the next question, Scott asked quietly, "Are you scared?"

Biting the bottom lip that was starting to wobble, Angie nodded, whispering, "A little."

That translated into 'a lot' without her needing to say it.

"Ok. What part's scaring you? Let's talk it through."

Angie hugged herself tighter and looked anywhere but him again as she said, "A-all of it."

"Alright, so we break it down." Taking a breath Metal started with the most logical question. "Does the fact that my job sometimes involves having to kill bad guys scare you?"

He didn't love the choice of wording on his part after he said it, but at this stage there was no sugar coating it.

Nodding, Angie dropped her head, giving a clue as to what his next question needed to be.

Steeling himself, Metal asked with the same false, calm neutrality, "Does that make you scared of me?"

Going still, Angie's eyes darted from one of her feet to the other as she thought about it. Then her limbs uncurled from hugging herself and she was reaching for him without a word, still keeping her eyes down.

Obliging immediately, Metal pulled her into his shoulder and hugged her as her little arms wrapped around the back of his neck tightly. The fact she didn't say 'no' right away was telling.

"Promise it's only the bad guys?" Angie's whisper was so quiet he almost didn't hear it.

Nodding, he answered with firm conviction.

"I promise. Only bad guys. Only to keep people safe. Never without reason."

Even as he said it, a part of him felt guilty because that was the ideal and what he worked to live by. Deeper inside there was also a darkness that he couldn't deny felt satisfaction in eliminating some of the world's most evil people and that there were days when his own thirst for justice had no remorse when an enemy went down in a pink mist. The cost was heavy, but he had always figured it was worth the price.

All the same, his words were the truth and Angie, being the perceptive child that she was, sensed it. Her little body relaxed into his arms with a small sigh and she burrowed closer with her cold nose tucked into the crook of his neck. Metal couldn't deny he mirrored the release of tension, relieved because he had his answer before she spoke.

"I'm not scared of you ," Angie said, her voice muffled as she hid her face. "I'm scared of the bad guys hurting you…what if you don't come back?"

"I'll always come back, Angie." Metal answered automatically and with all the confidence and ego he could muster. The thought of not making it back to her was unacceptable. It wasn't an option and he wouldn't let that happen, no matter how much that horrible, logical voice whispered in the back of his head that he couldn't make that promise in his line of work. Ignoring the ice that washed through him, he embraced the belief that he was able to control his demise. "You know why your uncles call me Full Metal?"

He felt Angie shake her head.

"It's because I'm indestructible and made of metal. Nothing can hurt me."

Slowly Angie lifted her head and he nearly laughed at the incredulous look she gave him.

"You're not made of metal," She told him bluntly, but with enough uncertainty that he decided to play it up.

"Sure I am."

"No you aren't!" Angie insisted, not quite aware he was teasing her.

"How do you know?"

"Because you don't feel like you're made of metal and it's not possible to be made of metal. We learned about the human body in science class last week."

A smile curled around his mouth and he rose from the crouch so he could take a seat next to her on the couch, whispering, "Shh, don't tell anyone. They like to think I am."

Without invitation Angie curled right into him prompting Metal to lock his arm around her so she didn't leave.

"Why do they think you're made of metal?" Angie wanted to know, still hung up on the nickname and considering it as she snuggled closer.

"I told you. Because I'm indestructible and really tough. Nothing's gonna slow me down and nothing is going to stop me from coming home to you, ok?"

"Ok." Angie mumbled, tension rising in her shoulders again.

"Do you believe me?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

The child was quiet for a long time before she nodded.

"Daddy…" Angie broke the silence a few minutes later, voice small and uncertain still.

"Uh huh."

"The…the bad guys…they aren't going to come here…right? Not into our home, or my school and…and…take us away?"

There was no simple answer to that question in reality, but Metal decided to make it simple because the thought ignited a dangerous fire inside of him.

"That won't happen."

"What if it did?" Angie insisted, indicating she wasn't about to let it go yet and was still scared.

"Then your Uncles and I will come get you and the bad guys won't be a problem anymore."

Angie shifted and peeked up at him, "Because you'll shoot them?"

Without thinking, because in his minds eye he already knew what he would do to anyone who dared threaten his child, Metal nodded and growled, "Yup."

A funny look came over Angie's face as she processed, then she returned her head to its resting place saying quietly with acceptance, "Ok."

"Why don't you go get ready for bed and we'll read," Metal suggested, wanting to steer the topics somewhere brighter before she went to sleep.

Happy to comply, Angie got up and went to do just that, giving Metal enough time to orient and breath.

He loved that little girl with everything he had, but caring for her as a single parent all the sudden took a toll, especially after a conversation like that. There was a sense of guilt associated with the desire for a night out, away from her, with the boys. With how little time he spent with her already and the obvious work still to be done in building her trust, Metal didn't think that was real likely for a while yet and had to make do with drinks on the flights home after a spin up.

A few minutes later Angie's small feet padded back through the house and he welcomed her up beside him, arranging her 'mommy blanket' over her and waiting for her to get comfortable under his arm again before opening the book and saying, "Where were we…"

When Metal woke hours later to the sounds of Angie crying out in her sleep, he really wasn't surprised. He'd hoped they cleared enough up before bed but the mind of a child, especially his child, seemed to react poorly to stress and upset.

Just as he reached her door, Angie started sobbing in her sleep.

"M-mommy! Mom!...no…I don't want-" Angie's cries faded into whimpering when he opened the door. Then her small voice mewed around quick breathing, "Daddy! Daddy?"

"Angie." He crossed the floor quickly, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning over her, palming her hair back from her sweaty forehead, "Angie, wake up. Come on, baby girl. Wake up. It's ok. Everything is ok. That's it…wake up."

Uttering a string of nonsensical words, Angie jerked awake with one final whimpering cry. She was disoriented at first, but she launched up into his arms the second she saw him and made the connection that it was him.

"Hey…shhh…it's ok. You're ok. Just a bad dream."

Angie didn't answer. She just shuddered and cried into his front until he hooked an arm under her knees and carried her from her room into his, flicking on the lamp next to the bed as he passed. A change of location and some light always helped to shake dreams faster.

She didn't protest when he propped himself up against the headboard and arranged her so she was cradled in his arms with her body across his middle and her head tucked under his chin. If anything she burrowed closer and kept crying.

"Just a bad dream, little bear."

"They…they were going to hurt me."

He hushed her.

"I've got you. No one's going to hurt you."

"They had knives…just like in the movie."

Frowning, Metal looked down at the top of her head.

"What movie?"

Shuddering, Angie whimpered, "The movie my friend Talia and I weren't supposed to watch with her brothers and we saw part of it anyway!"

Wheels turning and connecting the dots, Metal prompted further, "Which movie?"

"I don't know…but they had big knives and they were all…all big! They…they were like you and Uncle Sonny, and Uncle Trent and Uncle Jason and- they…they stabbed each other and there was blood and I don't remember anything else."

"Ok. Alright. It's ok. None of that is happening here. You're safe, right here with me."

"I don't like that dream!" Angie wailed.

"You've had it before?"

Angie nodded and pressed her forehead into his chest, shaking and gulping.

The poor kid. No wonder she was so upset about his work if she'd watched a part of a movie once that was obviously not appropriate for her age. Knives. Stabbing. Killing each other. Yeah. That wasn't something he wanted his kid seeing.

"I don't want them to hurt you!" Angie cried, lifting her head to see him. "And I don't want you to…to…"

Angie trailed off, her eyes already half closed again as she fought sleep.

"They're not going to hurt me or you," Metal cupped the side of her head, thumbing tears away uselessly. "It was just a bad dream. That's all."

"I want to stay with you."

"Yup. That's fine. You stay right here with me. Nothing is going to hurt you."

Hiccupping, Angie curled her fingers into his shirt, intent on staying where she was.

"Are you alright if I turn off the light?" He asked.

Angie nodded, but otherwise wouldn't be dislodged from him. It was good he'd sat close enough to reach the lamp.

When it flicked out, he slumped down enough so he could rest his head and then left the child attached to him where she was. He'd undoubtedly wake with a sore neck and no feeling in his hand, but if it meant they both got sleep, it was worth it. Besides, he knew a thing or two about nightmares and he didn't mind easing the burden for her where he could.

Opening his eyes again and looking up at the dark, Metal thought of yet another thing to add to his list of things to do. He needed to have a chat with Angie about what not to do if he ever had a nightmare and she heard him.