"I... I'm sorry Isla."
"Who's Isla?" Kwazii asked.
"That young little polar bear with the crush on me, remember," the Captain reminded his lieutenant quietly.
"Right. And, uh... Why is-"
"Shh," said Dashi, firmly.
"But... You don't outrank me, you're not Captain-"
"Shh," said the Captain.
Kwazii shut up, having apparently been properly outranked. Or perhaps he finally learnt when to be quiet and just listen.
"I'm sorry to intrude," Tracker was saying, much to everyone else's confusion. "Really sorry. Really sorry. I just... Looked so warm..."
"What's gotten into him?" Amy asked as quietly as she could.
"I... I think he's having a flashback," said Dashi. "I... Some sort of waking dream."
Peso was immediately up on his feet, going over to sit next to Tracker and proceeding to be as subtle as he could in doing a quick check-up.
"It just looked so warm," he replied, then curled into a ball. Dashi got up and joined Peso in doing a check-up. "So warm."
"Tracker?" Dashi interrupted the polar bear, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"
"Just a little cold. Just a little cold. Could I... Could I stay the night?"
"Wait," Captain Barnacles said with narrowed eyes and a raised paw. "These words. I recognise these words."
"Just the night?" Tracker kept going, until finally Captain Barnacles realised where the words were coming from.
"The words. They were the first Tracker said to me." The Captain sighed, took his hat off and wiped some small bit of dust off. "We found Tracker late one night when he lost his way in a snowstorm. He asked to stay the night, so we let him in. Eventually it came out that he had lost both his parents in the storm, and we've been searching for them ever since."
The Captain sighed, and the Octonauts averted their eyes sorrowfully.
"I don't know Tracker's mental state. He could have just suppressed the memories," Dashi explained. "Look Tracker," she then said gently. "I... I'm sorry you've had to go through this, and I may not have that much experience as a therapist..."
"Plenty of experience," Shellington corrected immediately.
"Oodles," agreed Tweak.
"... But I can attest that therapy and recovery starts with sharing. And I'll do my best as your therapist, and we'll do our best as your family to support you."
Tracker looked up deep into Dashi's eyes.
"Thanks Isla."
Tracker, seemingly not himself, began speaking, sentences made from memories broken and stitched together, sentences from the mouths of children, sentences from years ago, but they were all just mouthed words, until finally his vocal chords were able to make sounds.
"Isla. Isla. Can I tell you something?"
Dashi, apparently acting as Isla, nodded and said: "Sure Tracker. Whatever you want."
"Thanks Isla. It's... It's about my parents. Actually, maybe I should show you." Tracker took Dashi's hand (Shellington notably went pink) and took her to the door, repeatedly trying the handle.
"It's locked," Crash told him with that hand wave. "Don't bother."
"Curse you snowstorm!" Tracker spat at the door. "Curse you! Look, I'll have to tell you Isla. But... No. I can't."
"Tell me," said Dashi, quietly but firmly. She repeated herself, a little louder, a little more assertively. "Tell me."
"That sounds more like you," Tracker said. "I was wondering where the old Isla went. But, uh, I... Parents..." Tracker sobbed. "They're sick. Very sick. Just lying down, and..."
"Oh no," Dashi breathed. "They're not..."
"I think they are," the Captain said quietly.
"I'm so sorry for your loss Tracker."
Tracker shook his head angrily.
"No! I'm okay! It's okay! We're okay!"
"I'm sorry," Dashi repeated. "But you can have us as your family now. Don't keep it in. Let it out. Just... Allow us to help you heal, to hep you recover."
"That's... That's not how it goes," said Tracker. "Isla, you tell me to bottle it up, you tell me to keep a strong face. You don't tell me to let it out."
Dashi looked straight at her friend.
"I'm not Isla, Tracker. I'm Dashi. We're the Octonauts, not the Polar Scouts. And we are your family. And we will not let you struggle with this any longer. Isla told you to keep it in, but I'm telling you to let it out. I don't want the cycle to repeat. I don't want this to happen all over again."
"But... The Captain."
Captain Barnacles got up stiffly, walked over slowly and embraced his surrogate son.
"The Captain approves," he whispered quietly into Tracker's forehead. "The Captain approves.