- Day Off 2 -

Not feeling too great today. I've got a bit of a headache. I haven't been sleeping well...

Today was a quiet day off. The days at work have been crazy and hectic, and it's been wearing on me. Jetting across the world and chasing a gentlemanly focus and dealing with his insane security breach (772, if you're reading this, I don't want to hear it.)

See? I can't even rely on my own blog anymore. It's... distressing, but there's also nothing that I can do.

We caught another focus, also. #681 He'd been running from us for a while. He was... wrong in the head. Something had happened to skew his perception. He was losing his mind, and I think he knew it. His focus ability didn't help that, much. He had the ability of ten-second precognition. It was constantly 'active', too. He couldn't control it. So he spent his days talking to people that hadn't asked him questions yet, or trying to pick up things that hadn't fallen over, yet. He was running from us right as we were coming from him. It made him hard to catch, of course, and he's been eluding us for a while. It's hard to imagine how he was surviving. Probably by waiting to make sure food didn't move for ten seconds before reaching for it? When we caught him, he was crying, smiling as we injected him, and once the injection had run it's course, he broke down. He'd been miserable, he said. His life had been hellish. He was so happy just to be caught and "fixed".

It's moments like that that reminds me why I'm doing this. So many times, I focus on the bad, the mistakes. But there's good that we do, too. A lot of good. There's a lot of people that are happy to go back to their normal life after their focus powers manifest. So many look back on their brief (or in some cases, not) stays on the Island with terror and fear. Many of them lost their memories. Many of them were hurt in the jungles. Getting taken away was the best thing that ever happened to them.

It's funny, isn't it? It's hard to separate from my life on the island, especially when some days, with the insanity and the things I have to deal with and see, it's like I never left.

I miss my family, and my friends... but I have a life here, and a purpose, and looking back solves nothing. I can't change who I am, and Kolojang had it right. I'm a dog of the military, a slave to my duty. When I went to the Island, I felt purposeless, at first. I was sort of lost. But I found a job that was rooted in my past, in who I was - a military man. I did what I could to help people, provided a service that nobody else seemed able to do. I fixed people, and that was something, anyway. It was a Duty to rise to, and objective to complete. Just like, before, the Army was my Duty, and then my teaching and students.

I was stop-lossed on the Island, when the military realized that I was there. I was reinstated as a Captain - same rank that I had when I left the military - and given a further Duty - passing information to the US Army. So I did that. I kept them informed, and in the meantime I did my Duty to my fellow islanders. And then, one day, I was promoted to an Officer in TYPES, and so my duties grew. I kept my clan in line, and helped the island, and did my Duty as an officer in the army, as well. My mission was successful, they tell me. They know more about the island than they ever have, which is important, because they also know that they can't interfere with the island.

They've talked about attacking the Drive, but my intel, on some level, made the case against it. A highly-trained US Military soldier is nothing compared to the godlike ability of a Joker, and even the most powerful Jokers on the island can not kill the Drive. It gives me peace of mind, knowing that the Island will continue on as it always had, separate from the rest of the world... safe from the things that would destroy the way of life there. Not everyone would agree with me, but I know the island better than most. It's the closest I've felt to a community, ever. The only thing that comes close to that feeling of community is my place, here.

I can't go back to the island, not really. That's lost to me. Six hours, maximum, is how long I could spend with Matthew or Waverly or Felidae or Jara, my adopted daughters and son-in-law, before it starts to kill my body. Probably that time is even less with Silcatra or Sessine, two of the most powerful jokers on the island. And that time decreases as they grow stronger and absorb more Improbability. So that's it, for me. I've mourned that loss, but I've also accepted it. I can see them from afar, deliver some care packages, keep their memory strong, but that's all. I've had to accept that they are beyond my reach.

... Dwelling on this isn't a good idea. I'm going to take my tablet inside, make some dinner.

The front door is open.