Her breathing, as strained as it could be, as quiet as it sometimes was, was the only sound in the room. As she laid there on the bed, nestled under the sheets and blankets amidst the cold, amidst the cool air of the three person bedroom. Though meant for three people it was, there was only one identifiable occupant. And as she looked down upon her from her place, standing well and next to the bed she was tucked away in, a frown worked it's way across her lips.

Koko watched Souryuu continue to sleep, the carrier's fever far from breaking.

Her understanding of how a sickness or a virus worked was far from perfect, but it was leagues beyond those she called her own knew of it. To them, it was and up until that point, had been something that did not affect them. But now it seemed, that rule had been lifted, turned around, and set upon their own. As she watched Souryuu briefly twitch in her sleep at some unknown thing or sight, Koko could only wonder why now.

Sure, the monsters that be had found themselves a new host of toys to play with. A host of toys that should never have ended in their control to begin with.

But this was the world they now lived in.

Koko eased herself down onto the bed to the right of Souryuu's, taking a seat there a moment. The bed didn't bend or move beneath her, giving no sound or indication that she was there. Not that there would've been much to reveal.

Souryuu remained just as unconscious as she had been.

"So it is true." A voice from behind her offered. Koko's frown deepened only by a fraction at the voice, but she made no movement or sign to show that it was because of their presence and that alone. Koko didn't turn to face them, didn't turn her head, didn't adjust her position. She simply watched Souryuu, something the now third member of the room did not let go so easily. "Still as poor mannered as you ever were." The voice offered further, her tone one of dissatisfaction, her voice one of distaste.

Koko stood at that, stepping to the foot of the bed before turning, meeting eyes with the figure she'd already known to be there. They, standing in the corner, watched their smaller counterpart with contempt, eyes not quite narrowed, but not quite friendly. Their even stare and calm facade served to irritate Koko all too easily. As it always had been.

"I don't believe I asked for your presence."

"And I don't quite recall finding a reason to listen." She replied, the venom dripping from her tongue. "I hear whispers of six of our nation's proudest and most storied falling ill. And what should I find but you, sitting on your hands, with nothing to show for it but watching. I count myself thankful that they're in such good care here." They said as they looked down at Koko.

The named woman stood at a solid 6'9.

The one before her stood at 7'3.

Koko stood proud in her black and gold uniform, a large portion of that hidden away under the white cloak draped around her shoulders. The woman standing in the corner however paid no such mind to a uniformity in the same way or ideal that Koko did as they further wrapped themselves in the kimono they adorned. Colors of dark and light blues mixed with various shades of white gave the impression of the open ocean and the waves that could be found there. She openly stared the horned woman down before her, but Koko did not back away nor did she attempt to diminish her presence.

"You speak of this as if it is my fault." Koko snapped.

"Is it not? They were left in your care, under your eye." She told her. "And now I find both Akagi and Souryuu bedridden. Tell me, Koko." She hissed, the emphasis on her name suggesting that she herself was not a fan of it. Not a fan at all. "What do you think it looks like from an outside perspective? Do you think this scene speaks wonders of your ability, of your will to guard them? Tell me, do you think this ideal?"

"And you tell me." Koko countered. "Who it was decided on to be the one to watch over them?"

The taller woman glowered.

"Oh and let's not forget the fact that this is the first time you've showed up. The first time something goes wrong. But that's okay. The first four years of this war, the first four years of their second lives clearly aren't important, now are they?" Koko questioned. "That's the point, right? That's the center of all of this information, correct?"

Eyes narrowed as they focused in on Koko.

"You speak as if you yourself are free of wrongdoing."

"Wrongdoing that has not been committed." Koko fired back as she pointed at Souryuu, the carrier still firmly out cold. "You do not see the fact before you that there was nothing we could've done to prevent this, aside from the lone option that has been long decided for us even now. The idea that we disallow them from crossing through. Tell me, are you to be the one to stand before our spirits and inform that they are no longer allowed the service they seek? That they are no longer wanted because a danger so potential in chance, that it has only happened this once?"

"And yet you would expose them to that danger still?"

"That danger is their choice. Their option to choose. We are not meant to stand in front of them. We were built to stand alongside them, to support and care. They were built for the oceans, built to fight and combat those that would stand in their way. Some encounters are losses we must bear. Some are victories we cherish. But both regardless of the outcome are their burdens to carry."

"And should one of those burdens take one of them from you as it has before?"

"I have grieved before and I will grieve again. But my grief will not define their paths." Koko rebutted. "The loss of Fuso and Yamashiro in their second life as it happened in their first life is a sour note on everyone's ears who knew them. But it has hardly defined the path forward and I doubt that it will to any degree."

"Failure to learn from the past-"

"Is not a guarantee for a future of similar fates."

A silence grew between the two momentarily, the only sound being that of Souryuu's breathing behind them.

The briefest of moments.

"Why are you here?" Koko asked.

"I've heard talk that the Brute is here. And that you willingly allow it." She said. Koko narrowed her eyes a moment before she turned away, taking short paces to the other side of the room, watching Souryuu a moment before nearing the opposite wall of the dorm room.

"That brute is a friend." Koko challenged. "And yes, she is here because I allow it. She has done nothing to cause me an inconvenience as of yet and I am very mich in doubt of the idea that she will. I am wondering why you're so concerned with her though. You are far from the only one of our kind that views them in unfavorable light. But the same could be said for me, far from the only one who sees them as a friend. And much the same for her people. But I digress. What business would you have with Momi?"

"My buisness is why would you allow someone like her so close to ours? The feuds and grudges she carries-"

"Are non-existent." Koko interrupted her. "And any of our peers who spend their time outside circles of familiarity would tell you the same. That is not to say there is no bad bone in her body so to speak, but she will not show an external hatred to those who have done her no grievances."

"No grievances?" The other asked incredulously. "You believe her to have no grievances against us? Against our people?"

"She is not her children!" Koko snapped at her, the taller woman noting the reaction. "Their grudges, grievances, and feuds are not her own. She knows of them, she reasons and realizes them, but she does not carry them! She would not act out in the same manner of her children, never in an act to harm or maim. Only to protect. Which is more than I can say for you!"

Narrowed eyes turned venomous in an instant.

"The insolence! You dare suggest-"

Their voices faded away in but a moment's notice as the door to the dorm room was pushed open, Koko's line of sight with the other woman broken as a fourth figure entered the room. All but unaware of the two of them, the door closed, giving sight to both the newcomer and the fury that now lit up the other's eyes, no longer focused on Koko, yet now focused on the newcomer.

Koko's own gaze landed on the one before them.

And all her willingness to engage with the other died away.

Missouri was exhausted.

While on sortie, the ship girls could operate for extended hours, those expected of a ship made for war. The record at the moment was set and held by Shimakaze and Amatsukaze, who operated for an extended five days after a distant four day sortie in the early phases of the Japanese Fleet Program. After having become separated from the fleet due to both inclement weather conditions and enemy action. Continually rounding out their lines, they continued to push the two destroyers further into open ocean and impeded their returns to friendly waters and by that, home port.

After being rescued by way of Kongou sister on Abyssal assault tactics, creating an opening for the two to regroup with friendly forces, they eventually returned to Yokosuka, exhausted and running low on everything from ammo to fuel. After an extended dock stay and returning to their own beds, the two destroyers slept for a 76 hour period, in which, their room was considered off limits for all except Nagato and Mutsu.

While not connected to their riggings, that rule was not the same.

While more sturdy than the normal human in all aspects, there was still its own set of drawbacks, operational capacity one of the biggest. Exhaustion set in slower, but it still set in all the same eventually.

Missouri looked ready to drop dead.

Koko watched her, the battleship entirely unknowing of the second set of occupants in the room. The American Battleship instead made way for a chair that had been set up, taking the place of what had been a bedside table. Instead, the third bed had been pushed against the wall, Koko having not noticed at first. Next to that was the nightstand that had originally been between the two, complete with the lamp that sat on it. Setting the lamp to low, Missouri squinted at the light for a moment before turning away from it. She turned her attention onto Souryuu, taking a moment to look over her, but she didn't disturb her.

"What is the meaning-"

Koko pivoted.

"That care that you said you were oh so thankful for? She. She is that care!" Koko snapped again, pointing at Missouri as the battleship leaned back into her chair a moment. Angled somewhat towards Souryuu's bed, the battleship took one last look at Souryuu before turning her attention to her own self. Dressed not in uniform or anything similar, she instead adorned simple clothing. She pulled a book from her side, it previously had been laying on the table, giving evidence to the fact that this was no Missouri's first visit to this place.

Nor, Koko knew, was it likely to be her last.

"You would dare let her in such a close proximity to Souryuu?!" The woman once again demanding. "You would let her! Of all people! So close to her when she is in this condition!?"

"I would dare say I prefer her in her company over yours." Koko shot back.

"You-"

And she was gone.

Koko breathed a sigh of relief. She'd no doubt catch flak for that from both her and others later on, but that was a problem better discussed behind the fog of the Gateway and not amongst the world. Calming herself a moment, Koko turned her full attention this time onto the battleship, watching as she read quietly. But she could see it in her eyes, the way they would struggle ever so often to stay open. The woman was running on fumes.

Koko stood there, by her side, watching her. This wasn't the first time she'd seen the battleship. And not even on base either.

She remembered the past. She remembered the war.

Her nation had been beaten and broken, pushed back from their conquered islands and taken waters. Removed from their occupations and steadfast holdings. The home islands never came under invasion proper, but the path was clear and the outcome made perfect to all who were bearing witness.

Japan had lost, pushed to her breaking point.

Koko had been enraged, angry, downright livid that the idea of Surrender had come about, let alone followed so astutely to actually happening. She had been sure of a resurgence, been sure of a revival that would take their opponents to the bottoms of the oceans, and into hell itself.

But it never came.

But she remembered the day that she sailed into Tokyo bay, the day she'd come to finalize it all in stone. She remembered, watching, as Missouri's hull split the waters before her as she'd come to accept her nation's surrender. A battleship, not even four years into her service, eager to do her people and her nation proud.

A nation and a people who already knew her to be obsolete by the time she'd tasted salt.

She watched the young and proud thing stand before her people and adversaries alike, an icon to her people and a message to her foes.

Koko's anger clouded.

How many of her own children had done the same? Had been the same? How many of them had seen the world as their own?

She found herself offering the battleship a gentle nod of acknowledgement when it came time for her to return home.

The smile the battleship wore in return kept with her for decades after.

And now here they were, Koko once again faced with the battleship before her. But the pride, the valiance, the honor was gone. All she saw in those brown eyes was an unholy combination of exhaustion and worry. The woman kept her eyes on the battleship as she eased herself onto the edge of the bed that Souryuu slept in.

Koko wasn't privy to everything about their relationship, wasn't in the know about every little thing they did. But she knew, in their relatively short time with one another, their relationship had developed a far more carnal side to it, one that other relationships took years to develop. And that was if they ever did. But even with that, she knew when the battleship looked at the carrier, looked at the one Koko saw as her own, all she saw was one of adoration and love.

It was only twenty or so minutes before the tell tale motions of exhaustion began to overtake the woman, continually nodding off one second only for she to jerk away the next. A truly vicious cycle if there ever was one.

Another fifteen, Missouri reached the edge of no return. Koko watched as the woman's head slumped forwards ever so slowly and didn't recover. Just as the book she'd been trying to read began to slip from her fingers. The woman's eyes observed as the battleship lost her last grasp on it in her newly found slumber, the item falling to the floor.

Only it never hit the floor.

Not as the item came to a rest in Koko's open hand.

Slowly, carefully, she brought the book back up, standing as she did so. She only stopped when her head was level with Missouri's, the battleship none the wiser. Eyes that had witnessed centuries of her people's history observed the woman in passing for only a second.

Before a gentle kiss was laid on the woman's forehead.

Thank you.

Missouri snapped awake at the words, her eyes going full as she looked around frantically. But the only thing she found before her was an empty room.

And the book she'd been holding moments ago laid at the foot of Souryuu's bed.

—//—//—//—//—//—//—
\\—\\—\\—\\—\\—\\—\\—

"Arizona!" She called.

The Super-Dreadnought rolled her eyes.

"Arizona!" Came the call again.

Arizona pretended not to hear her.

"Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiizzzzzzzzzzzooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaaaaaa!"

The woman standing atop the rear turret of the ship before her only leveled Arizona with a lazed expression, her arms crossed in a haughty way. But the light smile upon her lips erased any doubt of agitation or annoyance at the situation. In fact, the light glitter of amusement in her eyes told exactly what she thought of the situation. The morning sun rising over the horizon ever so slowly, the light caught those carefree eyes in just the right way so that they sparkled.

"Maybe you should answer her, yeah?" Nevada asked with a laugh, her tone light and one of carefree attitude.

"Maybe I shouldn't?" Arizona asked in return, one eye opened as she glanced at the older battleship, her own playful smile upon her lips. The tilt to her voice promised nothing but amusement. Nevada only laughed at that as Tennessee's voice once again carried over the harbor behind the battleship.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiizzzzzzzzooooooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"She might actually lose her voice at this point." Nevada laughed, her voice carrying with the wind. Arizona only laughed herself, brushing a few strands of her hair behind her ear as she looked over to Nevada.

"What a tragedy that would be." She chuckled.

Just as Tennessee's voice cut through the air once again behind her.

"Tenn! Shut the fuck up!" West Virginia called from the back.

"Language!" Maryland scolded from further back.

Momi laughed from the side.

Both Arizona and Nevada laughed as the younger of the two shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe I should go see what the little one wants." She chuckled.

"Just don't let her hear you say that." Nevada offered with a snicker thrown in. Arizona offered a conspiratorial nod to the battleship before closing her eyes. A second later, when she opened them again, she was now perched on her fourth turret, crossing her arms as she looked at the battleship behind her in the water, it's owner perched atop her forward turret. And Arizona found her just as her hands were cupped around her mouth, already sucking in a new chest full of air.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-"

"Tennessee." Arizona quieted her.

The younger Dreadnought blinked a moment, her call interrupted before she looked ahead on to find the older battleship watching her. When Arizona arched a brow at the woman, expecting something to come of all of this noise being sent her way. Tennessee in turn brought her hands down from around her mouth, instead now shooting Arizona a wide, knowing grin.

"You needed me?" The Super-Dread questioned.

Her younger cousin nodded

"It's important?" She further asked.

Tennessee nodded vigorously.

Arizona waited for her to explain herself.

"Hi."

Arizona rolled her eyes as Tenn cackled before her, the younger battleship finding the entire thing all too hilarious for her sake. To her left, West Virginia rolled her eyes in response as Oklahoma shook her head behind her. Tenn, even more so than her younger sister, had always been the laughter amongst the eight of them. Annoying at times, enjoyable at others, Tennessee never failed to bring some sort of laughter or amusement to the situation at hand, whatever that may be.

Arizona looked back to Tenn to reply only to pause.

Tenn was gone.

She blinked.

That's when her world exploded.

—/—/\—\—

The gasp of air that that her throat took was just as jarring as her eyes shooting open, her body going rigid, and the battleship sitting up in her bed. Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths in and out until the woman was finally able to recognize the fact that it wasn't real. It wasn't fact. Or, at least this time hadn't been real.

Just a nightmare.

Just another nightmare.

The woman finally began to recognize the feeling of sweat on her body and along her skin under her clothes as she rubbed her face. Her cheeks and forehead were no exception, coming away with her hands as she wiped away what sat or waited for her there. Even still, she had yet to open her eyes, refusing to subject herself to whatever may be waiting until she was sure. Until she was certain of the fact that the dreams had faded entirely.

Ever so slowly, her eyes opened. And she breathed the first real sigh of relief since she'd woken up.

Arizona sighed.

Going about removing the comforter and swinging her legs over the side of her bed, she she came to rest her head in her hands a moment. Already, details of the nightmare were fading back into obscurity, fading back into the recesses of her mind. And yet still, here she was, in the middle of the night and very much awake. Her body yearned for sleep, her form wanted it, but her mind and her dreams made no such agreements. Uninterrupted sleep was as much a gift as it was a burden for the battleship.

Movement across the room brought her eyes up and merely found her older sister readjusting in her sleep, turning from one side to the other. All too unaware, Pennsylvania continued to slumber through the night unimpeded. Arizona wondered if her older sister ever got any nightmares of the like or similar fashion to hers. But given how reluctant the younger of the two was to open up even to Pennsylvania about them in full, she could only try and imagine the forces that it would take Pennsylvania to even offer any inkling of went on within her own dreams.

And trying to drag anything out of Nevada or Oklahoma would be even more of a challenge in of itself. Neither of the older Dreadnoughts were very much interested in speaking of went with on in their own minds, lest it cause problems for them further down the road.

And then of course there was Maryland.

Why were all of them so stubborn in the worst ways?

When Pennsylvania did eventually settle, her breathing quieting and her movements still, Arizona turned her head towards the clock on the nightstand to her left, the one that sat between her bed and the empty bed that sat between hers and Penn's. The two sisters currently used it as a space to put clean clothing or any sort of item that they needed ready to grab at any moment.

The clock blinked in that ever so jarring red as it gave her the time of 1:37 back to her as a reward. Arizona sighed a moment at that as her eyes wandered back to her older sister.

It was nights like this that made her thankful that she'd not yet made the room switch to sharing one with Haruna. As attentive as Pennsylvania was to her younger sister, which Arizona appreciated, she was a heavy sleeper. Which meant it was rare in the month and a half they'd been together in this life so far did she actually wake when Arizona did like this. The super dread hesitated to think what Haruna's sleeping habits were like, and if they did come to share a room, did it mean that every time Arizona twisted and turned in her sleep before waking, would she become her own kind of complication to Haruna?

That was the last thing she wanted.

She took just a moment to settle, to listen to her sister's breathing, to feel as the building settled beneath her. Though it would all too likely still be noisy if she'd remained in the first American dorm building, relocating to the second one just seemed like the right idea.

With relatively few girls in this one compared to the first building, there were fewer and farther between to disturb.

That, and not sleeping a floor below the current Fletcher sisterhood was something of a relief.

But not a safety as the European Snake Crisis had shown them all.

But above all else in that very time of being, Arizona knew what she wanted more than anything.

A shower.

Quietly raising from her bed, the piece of furniture still somewhat getting used to her as opposed to the bed she'd spent the first six or so months on base, it decided to play her side of things and not groan as she rose from it. As thankful as she was however, she offered it no thanks as she made way for her dresser. Too early to dress in something resembling uniformity, but enough to keep her modest. Plus, she knew how this worked. She'd be up for an hour or two before she either once again grew tired. Or she forced herself for more sleep.

For more nightmares.

Her eyes clenched shut a moment before she pulled the top drawer of the dresser out. Skin still slick with the nightmare and adrenaline induced sweat, she elected instead for a simple sweatshirt and pants. Securing that along with any other required items, she needed in that moment, she collected them and made way for the door to their room.

If anything else, the future was far more comfortable that she had expected.

Quickly and quietly opening the door, temporarily bathing their room in the light of the hallway lights that remained on by default, she closed it behind her and turned towards the end of the Hallway, towards the dorm bathroom. Hoping to herself that she'd have the space to herself for the time being, she took only a moment to listen for any other movement within the building. But when no movement or the sounds of movement occurred on either side of her or from above her, she counted her luck for what it was and made way for the end of the hall.

Approaching the door to the baths, she quickly opened it, stepped within, and closed it behind her. The lights flicked on as the sensors detected movement, illuminating the space for the battleship as her attention was once again brought into the rounded room.

The layout of the American dorms bathrooms was interesting one to be sure.

Closest to the door on either side started two rows of stalled showers that went half way around the room, the wall of the last stall on each side marking the halfway point. Further than that were also showers, but these lacked the stalls the others had. Shower heads and controls mounted on the walls, they were meant for those who did not mind or care for a lack of privacy. With shelves and indentations under each shower head for amenities such as soap and other items, their layout was clear.

In the center of the room was the center bath, the space taking up a healthy amount of space of the floor space around it for the currently empty bath.

Arizona walked past that for the moment, instead heading for the corridor that further held the needs of those that called this building home. Further back through an arched passage sat two various directions. On the left side was a heavy door that behind it, Arizona knew, sat a varied amount of actual bathroom stalls, wrapping around the left side of the bathroom. But on the right side was wrapped one continuous sink with a mirror to match its length. Curved along the other backside of the showers, across from the sinks were baskets for various clean and dirty clothing.

With her being the only one in here, let alone awake, her typical sense of modesty wasn't present. And as long as she wasn't loud, it would stay that way.

Taking a moment, she began to strip her clothes off after she put her new clothing in any basket of her choice. Depositing her old clothing in the basket that coincided with she and Penn's room, she collected her rather manageable amount of shower products and padded her way back into the bathroom proper.

Approaching the closest shower on the left, one without an accompanying stall, she put the items she'd brought in the various wall shelves before she went for the shower handle, twisting it.

Frigid water baptized her as it poured from above, streaking through her strawberry blonde locks before moving south and cascading down along her body and skin. She shivered only a moment before she adjusted, running her hands through her hair as she basked in the feeling of the sweat being wiped clean, leaving a clean slate in it's path. She closed her eyes as the cold water ran down her body, the running water overmatching her breathing in the sound game as she rested her palms against the wall, leaning there for a time.

As she woke up all the way under the convincing argument of the cold water, her mind began to wander, began to stray.

Based on satellite imagery, we have confirmed the reality that the Abyssals have floated, refitted, and currently employ the hulls of the six carriers that bombed Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941.

Her Admiral's words echoed through her mind as she recalled them.

Her eyes opened as she stared at the floor, the water running down her body and down her hair, splashing to the ground. But her mind remained steadfast in its direction, in the topic of thought invading every ounce of her being.

They were back.

The Pearl Six.

The hulls that had sent she and over a thousand of her sailors down with her.

Arizona reflexively pushed against the wall, the tile on the wall splintering ever so slightly. The noise of the break snapped her out of whatever train she was in at that moment as she brought her hands down from the wall, standing straight. Running another hand through her locks of hair, she attempted not to dwell on it. But even when she tried, even as she tried to subvert her train of thought, it still came back to become the focus of her mind.

The sole focus.

And with that, thoughts of the six women that held each of their souls invaded her mind, the six that had once inhabited those very forms.

A streak of righteous anger shot up the woman's spine.

For a moment, the water kissing her skin flashed to steam as her temperature spiked.

Only for it to fade as Arizona allowed herself once again the calm.

Anger would do no good, as much as Pennsylvania, Oklahoma, or Nevada would tell them. Would tell her.

Every time Arizona tried to see the six as the villains that her older peers presented them as when they spoke amongst themselves, when they spoke amongst peers, Arizona drew parallels. From the same country that had produced the six, they had also produced ships like Fubuki, Mutsuki, and Yuudachi. Haruna. Myoukou. Ise. Mutsu.

Ships that were proud to be Japanese. But also ships that had not hesitated to approach her as a friend. Approach her with kindness and open hands.

And Arizona had accepted.

But she knew if the six tried the same, she would refuse.

She would not accept it. She would not accept it for the sake of those that had died with her. Those sons and fathers that she had been unable to return to their families. To their wives. To their sisters and daughters. To their brothers and sons.

To accept the Six was unacceptable.

To accept was to murder her Admiral all over again.

The anger that dwelled within her attempted to surface again, attempted to get a rise out of her or urge her to her end. But she refused, she pushed it back down. They weren't here, they weren't of a concern.

Once again, her hands slid down her face, amidst the frigid water. Amidst the cold and the wet.

They weren't here. They weren't a concern. And yet her nightmares saw fit to remind her of what was history, of what had transpired.

Arizona's head hung low.

But with all that being said, she was not her sister. She was not Nevada or Oklahoma. She would not accept them should they approach her. But she did not wish ill will upon them unlike her sister. For every sailor she had lost that day, for every life she'd felt lost to her that morning, Japan had been made to pay for each one by the thousands upon thousands.

They had made her a Martyr.

She had signed their deaths.

And yet, her mind still wandered to them. To the six that carried the names. That had carried out that morning.

Akagi, the leader.

Kaga, the stern.

Souryuu, the proud.

Hiryuu, the laughter.

Shoukaku, the sister.

And Zuikaku.

Zuikaku.

The last.

She'd traded words with them in the beginning, her first days of being on base, as she was collecting her bearings about being human. About having returned to pick up the call to service that was perhaps meant for others, meant for her betters. But as the time had worn on and Arizona had found her footing as the sole American battleship of Yokosuka, and more than that, the Martyr of Pearl, she'd found her willingness to openly engage with them on her own free will fading.

Three months in, the idea of engaging with them even in the slightest of ideas was non existent.

The only exception Sorties.

The mission trumped the past.

A bite of cold from the water pulled Arizona's mind back to the forefront, back to the water she found herself under, back to the present. Sighing to herself, she actually put the shower in motion, figuring there were other things to do rather than sit under the water for hours on end. Reaching for the soap, she began to get things moving.

The water shut off 10 minutes later, Arizona now refreshed and cleaned and the like. Collecting her personal effects from the wall shelves, she turned her attention back towards the back of the bathroom. It took her no time at all to find a clean towel, drying herself as she wanted in front of the mirror. She was the only one here, the only one up. There was no one to care.

Not that the rest of the dorm building particularly did.

Aside from she and her sister, and the Nevadas, the other members of this building were young.

Well, except for Iowa and Wisconsin.

But sometimes the two of them had more energy than even the destroyers.

The odd exception that they were however, the rest of the building were all younger ships. Lexington and Shangri-La.

Cleveland and Denver.

And of course, Salem and Newport News.

Her mind dared to linger on the two heavy cruiser sisters, confidence in who they were easy to see, confidence in what they could do clear as day. The two heavies were something of an enigma to Arizona. As the youngest Heavy Cruisers on base, given that they were both the last of the type for both the US and the world as a whole, Arizona was not entirely surprised with how they presented themselves. Salacious, inviting, alluring, they had an effect on everyone they passed. But as effectual as it was, the two of them had their own ideals, had their own targets of their affection.

Salem, with Baltimore and Portland.

And Newport News, with her defining pursuit of the Essex class.

Arizona feared to meet their Name-sake sister.

So engrossed was Arizona within her thoughts, that she didn't notice the bathroom door open.

She'd just pulled the sweatshirt down upon her person, the clothing snug when they made themselves known.

"Oho?" Came the questioning tone from behind. Arizona turned her gaze on the mirror in their direction, her eyes meeting that of a two pairs of Crimson. Newport News watched her from the doorway, a look of surprise upon the heavy cruiser's features.

"Oho?" Salem echoed as she poked out from behind her sister, the shorter of the two laying a hand on her sister's waist as she also came to a stop, focusing her gaze alongside her younger sister's on the super dreadnought.

"My, oh, my. An unexpected surprise, but a welcome one to be sure. Just what might Arizona being up for tonight?" Newport questioned as the two cruisers stepped fully around the corner. Dressed as they were, Arizona paid them no real mind as Salem hummed in thought.

"Perhaps a midnight rendezvous? With a certain Japanese Battlecruiser, no?" Salem suggested with a the ever so slightest hint of a giggle backing her words. It was as if words themselves prompted the same reaction in Newport, the Cheshire grin that split her laps was one of an infectious nature.

"How daring!" The younger cruiser cackled.

Arizona huffed, shaking her head at the two as she pulled her pants up. Luckily, she'd managed to get most of clothes on before the two had shown up. Which wasn't really a problem if one stopped to think about it, but at least Arizona didn't have anything she needed to be conscious of.

"No. I am not going for a Midnight rendezvous thank you." The Super-Dreadnought huffed.

"Oh we know." Salem offered.

"Not sure who would be more of a blushing mess there. You or Haruna." Newsie seconded.

"The real threat is that Haruna shares a room with Kongou." Salem countered. "And she, bless her, can not keep a secret to save anyone's life." She woman said.

The two turned their attention onto Arizona as they stood before their own sections of the wall wide sink and mirror.

"Admittedly, our experience with the oldest of the four is somewhat limited." Newsie offered in an explanation. "But from that limited experiences we do have, she is certainly a handful. Or at least she appears to be. Would you agree?" The heavy cruiser asked. Arizona paused at that for a moment, as if she were actually taking the time to think it over before she nodded.

"She is. Though she has her own charm to be sure. Assuming one stays sane enough to learn that charm through and through." Arizona explained. "Just hope you don't encounter her on a day when she's crawling through the vents." She told them.

Newsie and Salem laughed.

Arizona did not.

The two heavy cruisers paused.

"That... that was a joke right?" Newsie questioned.

"Well, if she starts talking to you in the middle of the night, you'll get your answer." The Super Dreadnought answered her.

"Do you..." Salem began.

"It took us seven hours to find her."

The heavy cruiser sisters only stared.

Arizona simply adjusted herself a moment, making sure everything was as it should be. She was by no means new to this whole human thing, not like the two heavy cruisers to her right who hadn't even been on base a month, but there were still somethings that proved to be a nuisance. And as she took a moment to adjust her top, she couldn't help but think of a few.

"If you don't mind my curiosity here for a moment, Arizona, can I ask you a question?" Salem asked.

The Super Dreadnought offered an arched brow at the idea before nodding. "Yes?"

"Why did you never try your chances with the Admiral?"

Arizona arched a brow at that, turning her gaze on the heavy cruiser on the other side of Newport News, watching her a few seconds. "Why do you consider this your business?" She asked in return.

"Oh I'm very aware that it's not. But I'm also painfully aware of the fact that Maryland is far from the only Ship Girl with designs on Anya, let alone the only American. As her first battleship however, I figured you'd be a reliable source, given that you've known her the longest out of our American peers. You had more than a few months of ample time to cement yourself within her graces. So I'm just wondering. Was it you yourself, was it something about the Admiral that prevented it? I'm newly returned. I'm innocent and curious is all."

Arizona decided to pretend the word Innocent did not leave the cruiser's lips.

"It wasn't right." Arizona explained. "Out of the first seven of us, five of us were actually compatible with the Admiral. But even then, she was the Admiral. Relationships between a commanding officer and subordinates or those under them are troublesome enough as is. Now, as much as I commend Maryland for her pursuit of that which she wants most, the idea of something going wrong down the line is too much of a risk for my blood." She told her. "And further than that, no, thoughts of myself and the Admiral have not crossed a line of that degree. Maryland warming her bed is cause enough to toe around the subject with caution."

"But there have been thoughts." Newsie rebutted. Arizona fixed a light stare on the cruiser a moment before she sighed somewhat, shaking her head.

"Thoughts is being generous. Yes, there have been one or two times where my mind has wandered in that direction, slow questions of what if. But I have certainly never given them any credence or time of day. And I have most certainly never had the idea of prostrating myself by tying a ribbon around my upper works and asking the Admiral to unwrap her gift." She shook her head with a huff, Maryland's antics coming to the forefront of her mind. "They say love makes people do stupid things, but..."

"Everyone has their own lengths and limits."

"While I do not know enough to say whether that is right or wrong, I personally do find issue with the fact that the Admiral and Maryland have only known one another for a little over three months."

"Everyone has their own pace, Arizona." Salem explained.

"I-"

"Yes, it is fast. But listen to us for a moment. For obvious reasons aside, your service was domineering through the 20's and 30's, an interesting time to be sure, well before any serious social changes in that regard. Dating, or to be more specific, courting was a different experience entirely. It was controlled, it was confined. Often overseen by the families of those involved, there was little room for maneuverability when speaking in comparisons with today." Newsie told her.

"As time has gone on, social norms have shifted with it. Now, there are some relationships you can find where the parents simply do not find out who their new son or daughter in law is until well after they've both said 'I do'."

Arizona sighed.

"I just don't want Maryland getting hurt because she pursues something that she thinks she wants only for it to blow up in her face."

"That's a risk she has to face." Salem replied.

"By herself most likely." Newsie added.

Arizona didn't look any more impressed.

"Do you think the Admiral would?"

"Would the Admiral what?" Salem questioned.

"Hurt her?" The battleship asked.

"Ask yourself the same thing. Do you think the Admiral would hurt her? You've known her longer, you've served under her longer. Do you think the woman that calls herself our Admiral would purposely and knowingly hurt Maryland in any serious way? And more than that, do you think the woman that calls herself the Captain would stand for it?" She questioned.

"No." Arizona stated.

"So why the worry?" Newsie inquired.

"I fear for her, as corny as that sounds. Without Colorado or West Virginia on base for her, the closest thing she has to sisters are the rest of us that were at Battleship Row. And even then, we aren't there all the time. We can't be. There are times when we are on sortie, and she is not. Or our sorties take us in opposite directions." She told her.

"You say that as if the four of you are the only ones she has." Salem countered. "There are more American Battleships on base than just you five, and once more than that, Dreadnought does call this base home as well. And further than that, she does have her own set of friends, most notably and surprisingly of those being that of Admiral Hipper." The heavy cruiser said.

The two heavy cruisers saw the brief moment and expression of darkness dim Arizona's features, but neither of them commented on it for one reason or another. Instead, they were treated to the sight of Arizona shaking her head at the idea.

"Not a fan?" Newsie questioned, though she already knew the answer.

However when the Super-Dread turned a rare glare on her in turn, Newsie internally backed away from her next comment.

Salem chuckled quietly as Arizona returned her gaze to the mirror.

"My feelings on that cruiser are mixed." Arizona told them.

"The fact that you refer to her as that cruiser and not by name do not suggest mixed. At least, not a mixed that speaks of neutrality." Salem reasoned. "But I digress. The Admiral says it's been handled so it's been handled."

Arizona, despite the conversation, chuckled at that little idea.

"The only time I've heard the Admiral yell in any real capacity. Admiral Johnson may be a tad lax most of the time, but she knows how to find her voice when she needs it." The battleship informed the two of them.

"Oh?" Newsie asked, interest peaked.

"So the Admiral does have a bite to her." Salem hummed, ever so subtly biting her lip at the idea.

The motion passed by Arizona unnoticed.

"So what are the two of you doing up so early?" The battleship asked. "This is hardly the most social of times for the base."

"The same could be asked of you." Newsie replied. "We simply got up to spend some with one another, to talk and converse. We hadn't expected to run into anyone else, let alone you. Rumors of you keeping an eye on the Admrial's own sleep schedule come to mind. Swimming in hypocrisy, are we?" Newsie asked with a conspiratol grin. Arizona simply shook her head at that, looking to the heavy cruiser.

"I was simply worried for her health. And I still am. The Admiral..."

"Does not play things safe nor close to the chest in any regard." Salem answered her. "An admirable trait to be sure, but also a costly one."

"Unfortunately." Arizona offered in return as she began to gather up her items. "I've kept the two of you long enough." She told them, offering the younger two a nod before turning away and making her way back through the bathroom. The Des Moines sisters watched her go a moment at that before devolving into their own conversation, the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing soon become nothing but a memory.

Arizona walked down the hallway back towards her and her sister's room, slipping inside a moment. But there was no intention of sleep here, no intention of getting herself back under the covers and once again falling prey to nightmares. No. That did not at all sound convincing or inviting. Instead, she dropped her items off and in turn elected for her coat and shoes.

She needed time to herself.

A normal occurrence that had been recurring since there were only seven American ship girls on base.

Now there were a hundred fifteen and even now, Arizona could still feel alone all too easily.

She slipped her shoes on without much trouble before grabbing her coat, once again slipping out of the room without any sign of waking from Pennsylvania, which suited Arizona just fine. Taking only a moment to listen for anyone else up and about that she wasn't expecting, she made way for the front door. Pulling it open only briefly, she quickly stepped outside before closing it behind her.

The chill of the morning still in twilight greeted her, whisking and racing by her, bringing with it the cold. But Arizona didn't shiver. Didn't shy away from the cold. She faced it head on, her hands going to her pockets as she walked along the path, from her dorm building to the courtyard that sat between the four of them.

Instinctively for a moment, the battleship turned her gaze onto the fourth American dorm building where she knew Souryuu to be resting, still battling out the symptoms of the surprise illness, one that no one, not even the commanders were quite sure where it has come from, or how specific members of the fleet had gotten it.

Her mind once again wrapped back to the information delivered to them the previous morning.

They were back.

The six.

In the hands of the Abyssals.

And already very much being used to carry out attacks.

A door opening behind her found the battleship somewhat surprised and a little curious as she turned back towards the first building, where a majority of their fleet rested their heads. There, she found, was Missouri just leaving the building. Not dressed nearly as warmly as Arizona was, it was clear she had no intent of staying outside for a pro-longed period of time. But when the fast battleship's eyes befell that of Arizona, she slowed her pace somewhat as she came to a stop before the super-dread.

The two met eyes a moment.

One that represented the start because of who she was.

And the other carried the end because where she'd been.

"Arizona." Missouri greeted, nodding to the older battleship.

"Missouri." Arizona returned the greeting. "I wasn't expecting to find anyone up this early. And now you're making the third."

"Oh? And who else might've been up? I didn't your grouch of an older sister to be a morning person." Missouri offered.

"Salem and Newport." Arizona answered. "Perhaps I am a little out of my depth with they and those like them, but did our Navy become so... open after I went down? I'm aware that everyone has their own tastes so to speak, but they..."

"Are the Des Moines sisters." Missouri answered her, offering a smile. "They're the last gun cruisers of our Navy and in general. They were bound to be a little weird. The same could be said about my sisters and I after all." She told her. Arizona took that for what it was worth, for what it was. In a way, Missouri was right, she and her sisters having been built for a purpose that hadn't existed even ten years prior.

Arizona had been meant to clash with those like her, in battle lines, in proper formations.

The Iowa sisters were given their guns as a second thought, their purpose being that of defending their ever so crucial carriers. Without them, she'd been told, the war in the Pacific would've been one all too easily lost.

Enterprise had shined in a way that Arizona herself had never expected, one of the biggest surprises of her readings upon returning to this life.

"Though I admit, my sisters and I are nothing compared to our British counterpart, Vanguard."

Arizona arched a brow at that, but she didn't put doubt on Missouri's words. She didn't know the battleship of which Missouri spoke so she wouldn't doubt it until she inevitably met the figure in name for herself.

"This doesn't tell me what you're up for however." The Dreadnought told her. Missouri nodded at that, watching the woman for a second's pass before her eyes flickered over to the way of the fourth dorm building. From that one motion, Arizona didn't need her to verbally confirm it for her.

Arizona simply offered a quiet, singular nod.

Missouri stood before her in silence.

"Missouri... are you seeing Souryuu?"

Missouri nodded quietly. But there was no hesitation, no lapse in judgement. She confirmed it for the Dreadnought then and there with the simplest of methods. Arizona only watched the battleship before nodding her head in acceptance.

For her credit, there was no hesitation in Arizona's response.

"Then for your sake, I hope she awakens soon." The Dreadnought's voice was dry and flat. But she made no move to reveal whether or not the attempt to wish well had been genuine or not. But Missouri didn't push, didn't look into it. She took it for what it was at its face, and more than, who it was coming from of all people.

"Thank you Arizona."

The Dreadnought offered the one all too often called her guardian a nod in parting before she turned away from the woman, her path destined elsewhere. Missouri watched her go a moment, un-impeding of the smile that overcame her as she watched Arizona vanish out of the sight by one of the American dorm buildings before she turned her attention back to the fourth of the American dorms, where Souryuu waited within.

Arizona made her way across the base with a pace that didn't match her daytime service, a speed that didn't match the speed at which she pushed the fleet along. As one of the Fleet's go to Flagships, she had a duty to those entrusted to her on sortie, to make the best calls for those serving with and around her. To make sure that they came home at the end of the day.

Even if those orders felt like a betrayal to her past.

Before she knew it however, the Mess Hall stood before her, ready to welcome her as it always had. Though this time was different from the normal circumstances, they were circumstances she knew all the same. Opening the door, the chilly interior greeted her as she stepped within. When the door swung closed behind her, she continued on her way, not stalled, not hesitant as the darkness enveloped her. She made way for the Kitchen door, soon entering that space as well.

But even, she did not halt.

She made her way through the darkened kitchen with ease, stepping through the pristine area without issue. And in turn, she came within the sight of light creeping through a cracked door at the end of a hallway to her left. She made way for it, opening it when she reached it, the warmth of the room greeting her like an old friend.

Elizabeth Hiroshi offered her a smile when she closed the door behind her, already gesturing to the tea sitting ready for the battleship on her desk.

Arizona hung her coat at the rack next to the door before she turned and took a seat at the other side of the desk, quietly taking the cup, and sipping at the hot beverage. When it had travelled its way down her throat, she sat a moment before her eyes flicked up to meet Liz's there, the warmth in the other woman's easy to see.

"Thank you Liz." The Dreadnought quietly said.

Elizabeth only rose her own cup a bit in response.

"It's what I'm here for, Arizona."

—//—/—//—/—//—
—\—\\—\—\\—\—

She arrived to a house that she knew to be empty.

She stared up at the house a moment, all of its charm and life void in that moment, in that point of time.

It's occupants going about their lives, miles apart.

Damn this war.

Nancy sighed as she opened the driver's side door of the car, taking a moment to collect her things there before she went about getting out of the vehicle. She shut the door with a heavy thud to her side before making her way up to the front door of the Georgian-style building, taking only a moment to pull the key from her things. Unlocking the door, she pushed it open, slipping inside before closing it behind her.

The last few days were catching up to her.

Catching up to all of them.

All at once, whether they'd wanted it or not, the world had been reminded at the front of their minds that they were at war.

Boston had been easy enough to write off as a skirmish. Constitution had remained tall at the battle's end due to timely arrival of friendly forces.

What was now being called the Razing Of Islands held no such happy endings.

Even those who wanted nothing more than to deny the war's existence ever since those opening strokes on New York and San Francisco were faced with evidence that even they couldn't shy away from.

The Abyssals were entering a new phase.

The only question is whether or not if they could adapt and meet them head on.

Nancy made her way through the living room, briefly depositing her stuff there for a moment before making her way towards the kitchen. Admittedly, she didn't have a whole lot of time herself these days. After the attack, showing the world that the Abyssals were as always willing to up the ante, most everyone had been called back from leave or other obligations they'd had before hand. There was some grumbling, and a lot of cursing, but more than that, there was an underlying sense of understanding. They knew why of course, knew what it was for.

How long was it before the Abyssals tried the same thing somewhere else?

How long was it before the Abyssals pulled another trick out of their seemingly bottomless hat?

Nancy made way for the cabinet in the corner of the kitchen, pulling it open and from there, grasping the neck of a bottle. Still half full of the amber liquid, she quickly and quietly gathered a single glass for herself. Putting it down on the center island in the space, she soon unscrewed the bottle, taking her own swig from the container before she poured herself a relatively modest glass of the stuff. Once again capping the bottle, she returned it from where it had come before returning to her glass, taking only the briefest of sips.

And then the glass came down on the counter of the island.

Hard.

Nancy's eyes clenched shut as she attempted to find herself a moment of piece, a moment of solitude and centered. But she couldn't. The world was more than moving into a new age. One where the waters dyed red, the coasts were in tatters, and the oceans of the world looked down upon Humanity.

Her eyes slid open ever so slowly as she opened one of the drawers under the surface of the kitchen island, finding the remote there. Pulling it free, she turned on the TV that sat on the bar in the corner of the kitchen. Whoever had been watching it last however had left it one of the various news channels.

Nancy was presented with the video of the islands of the Maldives burning under the midday sunlight.

The woman brought the glass to her lips once again as she watched the video play out before her, the audio to go with it thankfully muted for the time being. Everyone seemed to be divided on what this meant, but no one denied it was happening.

Were the Abyssals pushing a new front?

Was this just a one time thing?

Rescue operations conducted in New York following the opening hours of the War told Nancy that no, it was very much not a one time thing.

She leaned against the island as she watched the video play out before her, various aerial and sea borne views of the fires raging. Along the bottom scrawl of the screen, further information indicating that searches for survivors had been almost non-existent. Further reports told that the fires were burning at temperatures too hot for most gear prepared to combat them could handle safely, making the islands all but an exclusion zone. The few survivors that they had pulled out or rescued had been already out in the water or on watercraft fair distances away when the attack had been carried out.

Which wasn't a whole lot.

Attempts to extinguish the fires were also being met with similar outcomes, even chemicals meant to extinguish them as their sources being met with outright failure. It seemed that the newest weapons in the Abyssal inventory was a potent one.

The video playing switched to the same fires, just this one having been taken at night. Further information crawled along the screen below that, but she paid it no mind as soon as it became nonsensical in stature. She once again sipped at her glass for a moment before she closed her eyes for a few further seconds before she opened them again, bringing her head up.

"You're supposed to be in Washington." She said without turning her head. Footsteps behind her suddenly sounded through the house as their owner had been revealed, apparently having come in some time after she had.

"And you're due at Edwards in less than 10 hours." Was the response. Nancy sipped at her drink a moment longer, her gaze focused back on the TV before she shook her head, her glass coming to a rest on the countertop for a moment before she turned to face him.

There she found was the waiting form of one James Hayfield.

He stood at the entrance to the kitchen, uniform nice and neat, cap held under one arm.

"I can only take this to mean that you were following me."

"Recent events have put a few people on edge for good reason. I wanted to see for myself whether or not you were apart of that group. Especially after Frederick reported your silence." He explained.

"Well here I am." Nancy replied, staring at the man. "And based on the next words that come out of your mouth, more than ready to get loud if need be." The woman replied before raising her glass. "A drink?"

There was more than a few uncomfortable seconds of silence before he nodded. She in turn went for the same places she'd been only a few minutes ago, collecting both a new glass and the same bottle. Sliding the glass onto the countertop, she uncapped the bottle once again as she poured him a drink, not quite to the same level as the one she'd given herself. He picked it up with a nod, sipping at as she returned her attention to the TV, quietly watching the muted program. He seemed to watch her a moment before he too turned his attention on the screen.

"Frederick said you'd gone quiet." He said as he stood there.

"He knows I need my space every so often." She replied.

"You've been keeping track of the going ons?" He asked.

"Clearly." Nancy replied as she watched the TV for a moment longer before looking back to him. "What do you want? Kind of out of your way to take a trip up to Maine like this."

"I make it a habit to make sure everything's going normally." He said before sipping at his drink. "Or, in today's world, as normal as things really can be."

"Normal's overrated." She bit.

"Says the Air Force General."

"On your advice. You didn't think the Navy would be a good fit for me."

"I stand by that decision."

"You were just afraid of me doing a better job."

Despite the comment and the jab being what it was, both Hayfield and Nancy cracked low, almost non existent smiles as the corners of the woman's mouth barely tugged upwards.

"You always were an asshole." He commented dryly.

"Takes one to know one." She fired back.

Another silence settled between the two as Nancy finished the rest of her drink, James sipping at his. They both stood, still watching the TV.

"I really hope this isn't the point where you come out confessing you made mistakes after letting me slip away and into Frederick's-

Hayfield shoved her.

That time, Nancy did laugh.

"Not on your life." He monotoned.

"Good." Nancy added. "So really, why the visit? This isn't just a social call, I'm aware of that much. I'm here. And Frederick would have done far more than just call you if he thought something was truly wrong."

"And with that being the case, you're correct. The Maldives are still burning, but not every ship went down. A single RAN Destroyer survived." He told her.

Nancy blinked. She looked at him. And blinked again.

"Survived? As in the crew all made it off the ship?" She questioned.

"Survived as in the ship is still afloat. The RAN's being quiet about it, we figure it's so they can figure out what the hell happened, but the HMAS Brisbane is making her way for Perth at Flank. The RAN have released a brief collection of logs of the destroyer in communication with India and Sri Lanka before turning and running for home."

Nancy blinked for a third time.

"Seeing you confused is refreshing."

"Why?" She asked. "Why allow them..? What are we missing?"

"Until we get a debrief from the RAN themselves, we won't know for sure." He told her. "But, I figured you and Frederick would want to know about this given her proximity to it all." He told her.

"And does she know yet?" Nancy asked in return.

"We won't make mention of it until we have at least somewhat of a full picture of it all. She's got New Jersey and John Finn over there to worry about, not to mention this attack in the public's eye. Especially given that we confirmed the Abyssals have floated six former Imperial Japanese carriers." He informed her, saying nothing after that. Letting her adjust.

Something in Nancy's eyes changed at that, the previous glint of amusement fading fast.

Almost as if a cluster of memories was brought back to the forefront of her mind.

"They-"

"The six." He confirmed. "The Kido Butai."

"Fuck." She swore.

Hayfield watched the woman run a hand through her blonde locks a moment before she suddenly snatched the glass sitting at the counter from it's surface and hurled it across the room, the item exploding against the far wall. Hayfield watched the display a moment before downing the rest of his drink, firmly planting his own glass back on the counter, a safe distance away from the woman's grasp.

"Goddamnit!" She yelled. "What the fuck are they playing at! Why the fuck would-" She stopped herself, instead planting her hands on the countertop as she seethed. Hayfield idly watched the woman a moment before his gaze switched to where her fingers were planted at the counter's surface.

Where they seemed to almost dig into the surface there.

An unusual kind of insidious and showful rage worked it's way through the woman's form, through her body, through her mind before she dragged herself away from the counter as she stared through the kitchen window, and out and over the Atlantic Ocean that waited there.

Hayfield watched quietly, wondered quietly. He knew there wasn't a chance that any of the Johnson siblings had ever borne witness to this side of their mother, to this incessant rage that knew her as it's home. A rage long ago forged in fires long since quelled.

In fact, this entire side of the normally cheerful and friendly woman was known to few.

He wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse.

What he knew for sure was that her kind of humanity was an entirely different type of monster from his own.

As he watched her stand before the light filtering in from the window, watched as she overlooked the Atlantic in all of it's glory and danger in this day and age, that's what he knew for sure.

"Now I'm debating if you were the wrong one to tell." Hayfield offered.

She whipped her head around, eyes of emerald and fire finding his in a way that promised retribution. But only for a moment. Before they seemed to soften somewhat, the ferocity of the emerald dulling then and there. And then she looked to where the glass had smashed against the wall, done so by her own hand. Even where Hayfield stood, there were shards of glass scoring the floor, to the point that a hand found her face in a manner that spoke of displeasure.

One that spoke of regret.

He knew, from a shared childhood that she prided herself on her control of her anger, control of her rage and impulses. It was rare for a slip, let alone a full on break down like this. Even decades later like they were here.

Only a sigh escaped her lips before she looked to the man. "I suppose I'll show you out, clean this mess, and get on my way. That would be for the best." She said.

Hayfield nodded.

"Probably." He commented. She nodded as the two turned towards the exit to the kitchen, making their way back into the wide open living room. And they meant to cross it only for Hayfield to pause, his gaze traveling across the room a moment at a piece of wall decoration. Pointing it out a moment with a simple nod of the head, he looked to her.

"I'm surprised you still have that." He told her. Nancy followed his gaze a moment before she stopped, landing on the decoration as well.

"Yeah well, couldn't bring myself to get rid of it." She told him as she lead him towards the front door, the man opening it as he nodded to her. "Now hurry back. Because we all know the Navy would be in such dire straights without your oh so powerful leadership." She told him.

"That doesn't sound very confident." He countered.

"Sorry, but the image of you somehow managing to flip yourself over your bike's handlebars at... what? You were nine? Yeah, that travels with a person."

"And whose brilliant idea was that?" He asked, giving her a knowing glance.

"I seem to have forgotten." Nancy replied, her gaze suddenly focused on anywhere but him.

"I'm sure." He offered in parting, the amusement in his voice as memories of the past being recalled so easily filled his mind. But even then, as he made his way down the front steps, offering only a wave as he went. She watched him go a moment before shaking her head, closing the door. Intending to turn back and head for the kitchen as she made to cross back through the living room, she paused somewhat as she found her attention being drawn back to the picture on the wall and those that rested near it.

She made her way over to it, one of the first things that had been put on the walls in this house, one that they had both agreed on to the fullest extent.

And alongside it, smaller pictures. A multitude of them, various groupings of people.

The one that caught her eye first was the one of she and a six year old Anya, Nancy holding the girl as the two of them looked into the camera, Anya's arms extended towards the camera with a wide smile of her own.

After that was a picture of Nancy and the twins, the woman crouched down in between the two of them, just about nine years old themselves. Both wore smiles that matched Nancy's, all three wearing sunglasses.

Down directly under the picture was one of Nancy in a more recent stature, this time at the middle of the picture. Behind her stood Greg, to her right stood Hank, Daisy, and Anya. And to her left stood Danny, Sofia, and Cynthia.

All smiling so very wide.

Above that, the picture that the others seemed to orbit around was larger than the rest by a good margin. Taken in 1982, the subjects of the picture were easy to see. In the corner, standing closer to the camera than the object in the back was Nancy herself, arms resting on the railing there. And next to her, with an arm wrapped around her waist was Frederick, the man standing taller than she. They both seemed to be laughing at something that someone out of the shot had said to them.

Behind them, in the waters of New York harbor stood proudly the second subject of the photo. A vessel that had long served her country.

You don't think I should go Navy?

A vessel that stood on its own and amongst her sisters against her nation's enemies.

With your experience? That's akin to cheating. Go for a challenge.

A vessel that she knew no longer stood in one piece, Nancy knew. As much as it hurt her in her core. She'd been torn from this world just like so many others like her.

A challenge? Me?

Another casualty of this war. One that she hadn't been able to witness herself.

A challenge just for you. I know you're up for it. What about the Air Force?

Taken in 1982, it was a date that stood out to Nancy and Frederick both. A day they'd both never forget.

You're just afraid I'd be a better Admiral.

The day she'd opened to the public.

I'm afraid to see what you'd do out on the water.

The day the Intrepid became a museum.

You're afraid of me in general.

CV-11. The USS Intrepid.

True.