Much as Horatio can't predict the future, William can't see into the past; he doesn't know what experiences were shared before he set foot (and then whole body) on board. He doesn't know what Horatio and Archie have endured, both together and separately. He can guess, though. He can reach into the memory of his own nightmares, and he can guess.

But now's not the time for guessing; now's the time to focus on the present, on the stunning reality that includes Horatio turning into him. William blinks, gaze flickering uncertainly to meet Archie's as if asking for some confirmation that this is really happening.

He doesn't need it, in the end. The warmth he feels between them as he curls an arm around Horatio's middle, the salty scent of his hair — it's all too real for him to deny or question.

His mouth opens, then closes. He had words.

Lots of them.

They're gone now.