He had a nightmare last night. Almost woke up the whole boat, like the first nightmare he’d had aboard Seaview.

I remember that first dream a few years ago. He was reliving the whole thing, tortured by Farrell's screams. And the shots that had ended his life, knowing the rest of  his crew were to follow.

He knew there’d been no choice, and I would have resisted D’Alvarez’s demands myself. But it was haunting him nonetheless. . After the sobs, I’d managed to get him to talk about it. In time we could both put that dreadful mission behind us.

As Lee has often said, sometimes duty’s the pits.  As for last night’s dream, I don’t know what this one was about and he said he was fine. But he knew, and I knew he wasn’t. Tomorrow I’ll get him to talk it out.