At the waterfront, Joey finds Pacey sitting glumly on a railing. More Flute Of Romantic Disappointment. After a minute or two of silence, Joey delivers her line from the beginning about having one of those days you wish you could live over again. Pacey agrees that yes, he has, and asks what Joey would have done differently. Joey doesn't know -- everything, nothing at all -- but "we'd still end up right back here . . . and I don't think I know where 'here' is." "Here" is a world without Dawson. Go forth and prosper. Nope, no such luck; Pacey mumbles that "'here' is right where we started." Joey, uncomfortable, turns to look at the True Love and says she looks "beautiful in the water," but Pacey mutters that "this morning was just a formality. We still don't know whether she's seaworthy." Tiger Woods lines up his last tee shot of the evening with The Three Wood Of Ineptly Executed Metaphor while Joey says that "she looks pretty solid" and Pacey predicts "stormy weather ahead." "Pacey?" Joey half-asks, meeting his eye again, and he says slowly, "It's over, isn't it?" as he meets hers, and she says, near tears, "It has to be," and Pacey suggests quietly that she "be the first one to go this time," and she nods and sniffles as she walks away. Pacey turns to watch her leave, and a tear rolls down his face as an ovary moans, "Take away my pain," and Joey shuffles down the dock but turns to look back, and when she does, Pacey has gone. She slumps and runs a hand through her hair as the camera pans up and away from her, alone and small at the end of the pier.
Next week: Let's get ready to -- ruuuuuuumble!