[ He knows how this must look: Poor Alan Wake. He's been trapped in another dimension for thirteen years. Look at him, he looks crazy. Who knows what he saw in there? Either way, his days writing bestsellers are over.

For him, it all boils down to not knowing where to start. What happened to Alice? How does he prevent anyone else from getting dragged into the Dark Place? How does he stop the Dark Presence from meddling with things on this side of the door? And then there's the more mundane worries too. Where is he going to live? What will he do for work?

Hell, maybe he can find a job in a diner. Poor Rose. ]

I know, I've seen it. And, well, most of that weirder shit is best staying there and not here. [ But the walls are thin; thinner than people realize or want to realize. Could he make it so that the walls aren't so thin? No, that's a ridiculous thought. He can't make something into reality that doesn't exist. And more importantly, does he want to tempt fate that much? ]

What are the buzzwords people use? Autonomy? Respect? You could throw the book at me for not doing that. [ He offers a dry sort of laugh then. ] Throw the book. That's funny. [ Maybe it's not. It probably isn't. He's just trying to be normal when he feels anything but.

Pin the book on the writer. No, stop that. ] Did you say Casey?

[ That has to be a coincidence. Only, there are no coincidences. But he follows along after Jesse, trying to get the bizarre stream of consciousness thoughts in his head to shut up for a minute. ]

I have questions. A lot of them, actually. You probably don't have time to listen to all of them. [ Or any of them. ]