To anyone waiting for an update on Forever and a Day: I'm working on it, I promise. I've just hit some sort of a mental wall with it (okay, I'm out of pre-written material, and the wall is called writer's block), and my brain is basically going in circles and waiting for the GPS to finish recalculating and take me somewhere new. It's getting there... slowly. So until then, consider this a brief, mildly depressing peace offering.

I Know

It's been five years, Will. Five years now you've been on this ship. Five more years until you can leave it. You're halfway there.

I know it hasn't been easy. I know it'll only get harder as the days go on, each one longer than the last. I know it feels like the end of this will never come. I know, Will. I know so many things.

I know what it's like to leave behind the one person in the world you love the most. You left Elizabeth; I left you. Even after your mother and I decided that it was time to let go, that there wasn't enough left between us to hold onto any longer... leaving you was the hardest thing I had ever, and will ever, do. I'm sure it's far too late to mean much now, but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

I know you feel alone. Even when you're surrounded by your crew, even when I'm standing right next to you, I can still see it in your eyes. You feel alone. And I feel so helpless every time I see that. I wish there was something, anything I could do to help, but...

I know why I can't help. I understand that I don't understand. I can't possibly know what this is like for you; none of us can. In one way or another, we all chose this life. We were all cowards. Some of us chose it because we were afraid to die by Jones' hand. Others were afraid of what awaited us if we moved on. But you... you were never given a choice. And you're the bravest of us all.

I know you're lost here, Will.

I know you feel like you'll never be found.

I know how many days there are when you can't see the light at the end of this tunnel. When freedom, your home, your family are so far away, so impossible to reach. But it's not impossible. I promise you that.

I know you how much you're hiding from me. You wear a powerful mask, you hide behind a thick shield, but it's not infallible. There are times when it slips, and then I can see the frightened boy hiding underneath, and I wish I could help him. Please let me help him.

I know you cry when it rains, when the drops on your face can hide the tears.

I know you can't decide whether you've been given a blessing or a curse. You're grateful to be alive, to have a chance to one day share a life with the woman you love. But at the same time, you can't help but wonder if this is really worth it.

I know you envy the souls you ferry. I see you watching them, watching as they leave the ship, wondering where they're going and wishing you could find out for yourself. But it's not your time yet, my Will.

I know you feel like trapped here, forced to live under the scrutiny of these souls, because they're watching you, too, some with fear, others with pity, just as the passerby views the prisoner in the cage. But many of them are simply grateful that you were there to help them. Can't you see that they're not all so hostile? I don't think you can. Not anymore.

I know the weight of the burden you carry. I see it in the slump of your shoulders and in those moments when your head bows in defeat, in despair, in longing and pain. It weighs on you more and more every day. The sand is trickling into the bottom of the hourglass, falling heavier on top of you; sometimes I wonder how much longer you can last. I worry about you, Little One.

I know you're broken.

I know the cracks have been growing through the years, and that it terrifies you. But Will... I won't let you fall apart. I'll always be here for you.

I know I can't carry this burden for you. This task, this destiny, is yours and yours alone. No one can change that or shoulder the responsibility. But you don't have to be so alone. You earned the loyalty and devotion of your crew simply by being yourself, by being so very human in every way that Jones no longer was. They'll follow you anywhere and do anything for you. And you have me. I'm your father, Will. I love you. So just know... I may not be able to carry it for you, but I can carry you.

I know you'll never ask for my help. Not in so many words, anyway. Why is that? Is it because you think I blame you for keeping me here? Sometimes you look at me with guilt in your eyes, and I think that could be the reason. But I feel no such thing, Will. I left you once; I'll never do it again, not as long as you need me. Or is it because you're starting to feel like you deserve the punishment that this job is? I hope not. I can't think of a single person less deserving of this nightmare. Whatever the reason is, Will, just know that it's not true. You can always ask for my help. I want you to ask for my help. And even if you don't...

I know I can still give it. And I always will.

I know you've seen me watching you now.

I know you thought you were alone.

I know you're trying to hide the tears in your eyes.

I know why you're shaking, and why you're trying to stop, and why you can't.

I know what happened today. There was a young couple on that wreck you led us to. They had just been married; they were so in love. But the girl was ready to move on, and her husband wasn't. Something was holding him back. She begged you to talk to him, to convince him to go on with her, but you couldn't. He's still here now, belowdecks with the crew, and she's long gone. Their parting was tearful, heartbreaking. And now she waits. Wherever she is, she waits for him, just as Elizabeth waits for you.

I know what it did to you, seeing it unfold before your eyes. But the heartache you feel because of them isn't only because they're separated, because she will wait for him. It's because you know she won't have to wait for long. Time will dull the poignancy of whatever it is that keeps him here, and he'll follow her to the next world of his own volition. And you, Will, will again be left here with nothing but the reminder that you are the prisoner in the cage; the man who can make no bid for freedom until he has served his sentence.

I know how keenly you feel all of this. I can see it in your eyes. The light is gone from them. There's nothing left but the darkness of despair.

I know you'll never come to me, so I'll just have to go to you.

I know that even now, as I'm crossing the deck, you're trying your hardest to repair your mask before I reach you.

I know you can't. It's been torn too deeply this time.

"Dad..."

I know why your voice is breaking.

I know you need to cry, so cry on my shoulder.

I know your empty chest frightens you, so listen to my heartbeat.

I know you need love, so let me be your father. I'll watch over you. I'll take care of you. I'll support you. I'll be here until it's time for you to go home, because –

"I know."