synthneon | oceanview || ❝ hold hands with my demons and creatures of night. ❞

oceanview || ❝ hold hands with my demons and creatures of night. ❞

OCEANVIEW I

blinded by reflections.

Is there anybody out there?
Someone who can hear me and drink from the light
To see things from the same side
Is there anybody out there? CODE BY TESSISAMESS

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ It isn't how he wants to be, not by a long shot. If he could just keep it together long enough; if only he could be calm, cool, collected. But he doubts that even meditation, all that zen stuff, would help him now. His mind is scattered, running away from him even when there's no danger, no threats. Jesse isn't a threat. She's direct, pointedly so, but he has no reason to be afraid of her. If anything, she helps pull him out of the swirling storm that's his mind. He squeezes her hand in return. He knows that he keeps making mistakes; he keeps being an asshole, like she's told him more than once.

But it's not- No, that's the wrong thing to say, becase it's very personal. He wrote her in to the story, gave them a connection. Did he give them a connection? The connection must have existed long before they realized it. He just put it into words, and gave them a little nudge. The rest was up to her. And him. But mostly her. He just responded to it; he was drawn to it. Not like a moth to flame, but like a drowning man is drawn to a life preserver.

Maybe that's why the story failed: the pieces didn't fit. Or he rearranged the pieces and that was what broke the formula. It had to be in a certain order; he couldn't jump into the middle and call it a beginning. Or an ending. But how does he fix the broken formula? That seems to be what he's having a hard time figuring out. ]

I can't change people. I can write down actions for them to do, actions that relate to the story. But who they are? It doesn't change. [ He knows that's true, somehow. Maybe it's because he wrote about people like Barry, and well, Barry never does anything but act like himself. Alan almost smiles at the thought of his old friend. Wherever Barry is now, he hopes he's all right. ] I didn't change you. I couldn't.

[ He does his best to halt the near-constant stream of thoughts that is his mind, so that he can listen to Jesse's explanation. It is very normal, at least in the sense of her working. Finding odd jobs. Trying to fit where she could. It makes him relax for some reason. ]

So you weren't always the director. The director. [ Why the knowledge that she was one of the working masses reassures him, he doesn't know. Maybe it's because it's so normal, when all he knows is decidedly abnormal. ] I'm almost jealous. [ But back then, before all of this, all he wanted to do was to be a writer. He had odd jobs too, but he was always scribbling on scraps of paper: jotting down ideas before he forgot them. Sometimes it even got him in trouble. ]

Well, you'd be just one of a handful of people who thinks that. [ Not many people believed that Alan wasn't as bad as the press made him out to be. He didn't have a crowd of people in his corner, but the ones he did have were there for good. Maybe he can count Jesse as one of them. ]

A trap. I could try and trap him. [ Again. He tricked him once, maybe he could pull that off a second time. It's something to think about, for sure.

He opens his mouth to say something, to maybe explain more about what they did before he changed it. But then she's kissing him again and all thoughts fly straight out of his mind. He wants this; needs it, even. When a need for human contact turned into actual, genuine love, he doesn't know. He just knows that it took him by surprise and seized full control when he wasn't even looking. But he doesn't mind surrendering to this. His hands move to hold her, fingers curling against her back, shoulders, wherever they land. He leans into the kiss, almost hungrily deepening it, and he pulls her in closer to him. He wants this; they had this once, before he took it away, and now... now he realizes he wants to give it back to her. Not in a story written on a page, but now., in this very moment. ]

[ Maybe once he is actually out of the Dark Place it can all slip back to where it should be in his head. It might take time, but if he didn't have the constant threat of being pulled into the Dark Place, it could help. ]

If you could, would you? [ Her head tilts to the side. ] If it fit the story better.

[ It's best to understand how his powers work. Even if she can't remember in loops, or when it all ends. It may help him now, which will help all of them. If anything, hearing himself explain it may jog something in his memory. Maybe even give him confidence he seems to be lacking. ]

I've only been Director for four years. Trench was the Director for decades. I learned how to seem normal, because it was the only way I could survive. If everyone thought I was normal like them, then I could try to find Dylan and the Bureau. It didn't work.

[ Jesse would like to count herself as one of those people. Maybe she couldn't support him like those he knew before all this. She's not good with people, or relationships. She may not be the kind of support he really needs. She'll try, and if anything, she can be someone he can relate to with the weird world they find themselves in. ]

A handful is more than I had. At least you have that many. [ She leans her head back against him. ] How would you trap him?

[ She wants to know what happened between them in that loop. Even more, she wants to hear it from him. He was the one that took it away, and she wants to know why. If both of them seem to want it so much, why did he take it away from her--from them?

She isn't expecting his reaction, and it's evident in how her back tenses as his fingers curl against it. Still, with acceptance seemingly given, she returns that level of intensity. Her lips move with his in that needy hunger, and she doesn't resist as he pulls her closer.

The wet clothes stick out to her, but more in wondering the best way to slide off the bag and jacket. It would help to some degree--wouldn't it?

Her fingers move from his hair and downwards so her arms can curl around his neck. It's familiar--and not simply because it's something they did once or twice. It's a memory that seems ingrained in her subconscious and no amount of rewrites can ever fully remove it. She seemingly knows how to move in their kiss, how to shift her weight, and where to position her legs to be comfortably around his.

That rumble of intensity flares again, wanting to pull him in and ...resonate with him. Jesse still doesn't understand how or why. Is it Polaris, is it something else? What would happen if she did lower that last wall and let it go?.]

Maybe I would, if I thought that the story needed it. The story has to feel real, even if you'd think it's only a story, it can be whatever it needs to be. It can't be completely nonsensical. It still needs to play by the rules and be logical. If I started making people act in ways they wouldn't ordinarily, I think the story would break down.

[ He only has theories and supposition to go on here, but he's also relying on what he knows from previous failed attempts at writing. ] The loops work the same way. If I don't write a conclusion that makes sense, or if I don't write anything at all, it just resets. [ Or, that's what seems to happen, anyway. ]

But it sort of worked, didn't it? You survived. You're still here. [ And he's glad for it, not only for himself, but there is a little selfishness wrapped up in it. ] Not that I'd wish this on anyone, but you'd probably have this whole thing figured out if the roles were reversed. But I don't want the roles being reversed, just to be clear. [ He'd never put anyone like her in this situation. Hartman is another story. Good people like Jesse should never have to contend with something like the Dark Place. ]

It's more than I deserve, honestly. [ But he's grateful to the people who stayed with him, he really is. ] Well, it's like you said: use what he's doing to my advantage. And maybe I could even use the loops too, somehow. [ He has to stop to think about what he did before, in that strange time that was more or less a loop that kept on repeating. How did he outsmart Scratch that time? ] If it was possible to write something that had Scratch and me switch places... but I think he'd have to get close enough and in the right place at the right time in order for it to work.

[ And Scratch only shows up when he wants to show up, or when the loop dictates it to be that way, because that's how he wrote it. He frowns in frustration, because even the process of writing feels like one big loop.

Something like anger rises inside Alan, threatening to distract him from this moment with Jesse. He's been toyed with, screwed around with, and turned around so many times that he shouldn't know which way is up. He's seen people he cares about die too many times, and he hasn't been able to do a thing to stop it. Ultimately, it's why he made the choice to rewrite him and Jesse coming together with nothing between them, to stop them from getting what they both want. He thought it would protect her, save her from Scratch. But in the end, it didn't even make a difference. It seems as though Scratch can take everything from Alan no matter what he does.

Something seems to burn in the corners of Alan's eyes as his frustration rises in spite of himself. He doesn't stop kissing Jesse, but his internal conflict and upset seems to be growing just as rapidly as his passions are. His clothes that are still damp from the rain cling uncomfortably to his skin, making him feel chilled, even though inside, he's burning.

What the hell am I supposed to do? What good is the ability to bend reality if I can't use it to get rid of the one person- the one thing that's standing in the way?

Alan's hands at Jesse's back grasp onto her a little tighter; nothing uncomfortable, but he needs someone to hold onto as his frustration rises. After a brief pause during which Alan comes up for air, he just says one thing: ]

... Jesse?

[ Something is pulling at him, trying to direct him to do something, and he's deciding to follow its lead. ]

Maybe that's why we keep looping? You're trying something that's against what part of the story wants, or what someone would do. I don't know, Alan. I'm...just trying to help.

[ « It's why you brought me into the story, isn't it? To help. » ]

I doubt I would be. I'm not a writer or a creator. And, I'm not sure Polaris could help. She could barely get to you in that dimension. I don't know what it is there that blocks her, but it's adamant about it.

[ « Just like when Dylan sensed you. The Hiss snd the Darkness react the same. They hate you and what you are. In our terms anyways. » ]

Well, you'd need to draw him to a place and set it up. Give him a reason to be there. Maybe even make him think he can get what he really wants. [ Mind games. She'd offer herself to be used as bait, since Scratch seems to hate her that much, but she's sure Alan would shut it down. He may have already thought of it once. ] You'd have to make it damn close though, wouldn't you? Almost make it seem like he'd win.

[ Which is probably the last thing he wants to do.

Something in her mind notices he's holding on just a little tighter, and she wonders what's distracting him from this. Or, what it is rumbling beneath the surface. They pause again to breathe and she finds it so damn annoying they have to stop. Her heart is beating a million miles and minute, her breathing hitched and heavy, but it feels like she can't have enough of it. It's almost like she's been given water after being dehydrated for days. Which is why she tilts her head to press her forehead to his and ghost her lips over his.

Now she's finding those wet clothes to be annoying.

That part of her is still clawing at the last wall she has up, as honestly, she's afraid of what might happen if she does just let go. If she gives up that last measurement of control, and she hates not being in control of herself. But, another part wants to do just that. Because she has someone she can trust to not use or abuse it. At least, she wants to believe he wouldn't. He isn't the best man, even in his own words, but he wouldn't take advantage of the control she'd give him.

Or, would he?

He says her name and it snaps her out of that floating feeling. If he has a conflicting set of emotions raging through him? So does she. ]

Hm? [ His tone is serious and it takes everything in her willpower not to kiss him again. Jesse forces her eyes open to look up at him again. ] Sorry, I mean... what is it?

[ « He REALLY needs a towel. And to ditch the bag and coat. » ]

I know it's pointless to even ask, but why can't this just be clear? It feels like being blocked all over again. [ And that's what set him on this path in the first place. ] If I knew what the story wanted or needed, I could write it. As long as it doesn't involve putting you or anyone else who got swept up into things in harm's way.

[ He refuses to accept or believe that that's part of the problem. ] I think I said once that there had to be casualties and victims, but I can't do that. Not anymore. If having connections with people is what's making it so I can't write what I need to, then- that's just how it's going to have to be.

What he wants? He wants me. My life. Everything that I have, or had. [ He thought once about using Jesse as bait, and he immediately squashed that idea and felt disgusted by himself for even considering it. But if he used himself as bait? That's another idea entirely. It's risky, and it has the chance to go horribly wrong, but maybe that's what he needs to do. ]

What if I almost let him catch me? [ It would have to be more than just catching, and I know that, but she'd shoot it down if I spell it out any clearer.

Alan doesn't want to stop, doesn't want to break the contact between himself and Jesse, but they need to breathe sometime, and he thinks he needs to finally tell her something she's wanted to know for- probably a long time. ]

You asked about us. About what I took out of the story. Do you still want to know? [ He doesn't want to talk about it, not because he's afraid of her being angry with him. He deserves her anger. And it's not even that it's not important to him, because it is. In so many ways, it's the most important thing to him, along the lines of finding a way out of the Dark Place. It might even be more important than that, because of its significance. She's the first person other than Alice who's actually loved him. Tried to understand him. Connected with him.

Alice is (was?) his goal all this time: the reason he's worked so hard to try and write the story. But a part of him wonders if Alice hasn't moved on. Oh, she might hold onto the memories of their time together, but it's been years as far as he's been told, and he wouldn't want her to sit around waiting for him forever. But either way, Jesse's become a driving force for him too now, and he can't pretend he doesn't love her too. She deserves the truth, even though he tried to obscure it. Edit it out. He wants to tell her about it now, if she'll listen. ]

[ Jesse frowns, knowing she's not being as helpful as she should be. She doesn't know the first thing about the creative process. Especially a process that is alive as you create it in a nightmare dimension. Another squeeze is given to his hand as a form of apology. Some hero she's turning out to be.

Everything in her tells her to avoid causalities, but, that isn't the reality of their situation. Sending people to die in a horror story, sending people into the breach of a threshold. What's the difference between the two? You know that someone or someones won't come back out. Someone goes home in a body bag. Someone's families get called with condolences. ]

Stories need stakes... otherwise it's not a satisfying ending. [ She shrugs slightly. ] Something like that.

Well, we both know that's not entirely true. There's a person he doesn't want. [ Jesse looks up at him through the red hair that frames her face and dried blood that can still be seen at the roots of her bangs. It's obvious she means herself. ] Which means you have one thing in your pocket he might not expect while you're using yourself as bait.

[ « He won't use me. If he went to these lengths to write out whatever it is we had? I doubt he'd use it to his advantage. Even then... that Darkness can be draining. We'd have to be smart about it. »

A long time would quantify their experiences in loops. There's no true passage of time as it keeps resetting and nothing else seems to be aware of the time lost or gained. The entire world doesn't seem to react to this looping AWE. How could she wonder something for a long time in that regard? It feels like she has, but, reality doesn't line up. Even if reality is easily changed by a certain writer.

Her breath catches in her throat and not because of their rather intimate positioning. He does remember then--maybe even all of it. Something inside her sinks as that familiar feeling of paranoia claws up at her. Her arms tighten around him on reflex. Bracing herself for something, whatever that something might be. She's always been defensive, walled off, distant. It's hard to fight against those habits when they've been apart of her survival mechanisms for so long. ]

Yes.

[ « This is a fucking whirlwind. One that seems to go from one place to another and it doesn't stop. Is this what it's like being involved with someone like this? This... deeply. I don't--I don't want to feel like I can't trust him. I want to trust him. I want to let him in. But, can I, if he's going to do these things without asking? I know he really couldn't until now. But still... » ]

And why you took it away.

Edited 2023-10-16 05:54 (UTC)

[ He never expected Jesse to solve his problem. Not because he thought she couldn't, but because he couldn't. If even he as a writer couldn't figure out how the hell to do it, why should he expect anyone else to? He's the one who got himself into this mess, and he's the one unable to solve it. It means the world to him that she's even here, putting out ideas and theories and trying to tease out something, anything that might work.

He squeezes her hand in return and clings onto it, almost embarrassingly so, but he can't help it. Maybe there are no heroes in this story.

Alan told himself to avoid casualties too, at least as much as possible. But that didn't change the fact that he still wrote them in. People still were hurt. Some died. Hell, even animals weren't safe. Am I sure that I'm not turning out to be just as much of a villain as Scratch is? He doesn't like to think about that. Something inside him bristles in his defense. He's not like Scratch. He doesn't kill people for fun. ]

I know, you can't have a good story without sufficiently high stakes. [ What stakes are higher than a man fighting for his own survival? Fighting to maintain what's left of his sanity? Alan asked those questions once, but now he's getting the sense that the stakes are even higher than that. If he wants to seize his chance and find or create an opening, he's going to have to put himself on the line. Maybe that's always how this was supposed to go. Jesse's the hero; he sent the messages that got her to deal with Hartman, and the Hiss. And she found her way here; he wrote her in, but he didn't write this: he didn't make her reach out to him and bring him into her dream-state.

Maybe if he puts himself in the line of fire and lures Scratch out, Jesse can swoop in like the hero he believes she is and end this. Maybe he shouldn't hold as much confidence in her as he does, but she was made for this. Maybe not this specifically, but she has the skillset needed to get the job done. He's only a writer, and writing isn't helping him fight back. Not in the way that Jesse can.

She's right in the sense that he won't use her as bait. He couldn't live with himself if he did. It's bad enough that Scratch targeted her in all of those other loops. The guilt from that weighs on him more than he'd like to admit. If he can set it up so that it looks like he takes the fall, only for Jesse to come in at the last minute and put Scratch down... he wants to try it, but even then, warning bells are going off in his mind.

What if it backfires? It has just as much of a chance of failing as it does working out.

But he asked her a question, and he waits for an answer, breath caught in his throat. Of course she says yes; he expected that she would. She all but demanded to know what he did and what he wrote out, and now she's adding onto that: why? The question of "why" was implied the whole time, but now it's out there stated in no uncertain terms.

A part of him feels that if she wants to leave him behind once he gives the answer, he won't stop her. He'd understand, and he'd be surprised that she stayed as long as she did. He's not the eye of the storm; he is the storm, and he pulls people in with him, sometimes to bad ends.

He draws a breath, a lengthy one, because this explanation isn't going to be short, even if he cuts out all the fat. And then he lets his gaze lower, not because he can't look at her, but because he feels a sudden weight landing on his shoulders, pulling him down. ]

It was the first loop that I wrote: the first attempt in a long string of attempts trying to get out. Obviously, I wrote it, so it felt on brand for me. Hard-boiled. Gritty. A cult was involved. And- and you were in the story. You and the FBC, the FBI, and me.

[ How did it go from me running away from a cult to the two of us connecting? Come on, Wake, you have to remember. ]

I was stupid. No, I was shell-shocked. I think... I remember you patching me up, because I got hurt somehow when I was trying to get away from the cult. That was the first time I noticed you. Like, really noticed you. [ It was the eyes. Her eyes drew me in. That sounds insanely stupid. I'm not telling her that. ]

I don't know how to explain it. You questioned me, I told you what I could. It- It took hours. Or it felt like it did. You wanted to know everything, about me and what I can do, about the Dark Place... I tried to explain it all. [ And she just kept pulling me in. I don't even know if she realized it, at first. But it had to work like that, didn't it? ]

I didn't write anything more than two people meeting by what looked like chance but wasn't, and realizing they shared a connection. I thought- I knew that I needed help, and you were the perfect person for the part. But why would you help me, when you didn't even know me? So I wrote in a little nudge. Not a shove, not a push. Only a nudge. A small one. [ God, she's going to hate me by the time I finish. ]

You responded. I responded back. [ Form the image in their minds. They make it. You just imply. Incept. They are drawn to the mystery. Obsessed. You set it up, they put it together. Their interpretation. And there's only one, because you give them no choice. And they believe in it, because it's theirs now. ]

The nudge was there because I put it there, but you chose to act on it. You wanted to help. You let me in. I wanted to be let in. [ Because I've never met anyone like her before. That isn't something I wrote in the story. ]

The feelings we had- they were ours, and only ours. And then... The devil himself appeared.

[ She holds his hand as gently as she can. He held hers in an iron grip, so the least she can do is try to be the most supportive she can be. She's just not good at it, but people often say it is the thought that counts.

He doesn't kill for fun or take pleasure in it. Scratch does, and enjoys the persona he has adopted thanks to the population. Why they clamored to the idea that the best selling author was a serial killer is beyond her. How much did the rumors influence Scratch and how much did he make them on his own?

She would much rather herself be used as the bait. The doppleganger can't stand her or her guiding star, so it seems an easy conclusion to make. Alan would refuse to. He refuses to put her in the line of danger, even though that's where she finds herself anyways. She was the one to take on the heart of the Hiss to stop them. Not to mention other monsters in the Oldest House. All she can think is that it's different to him because of his doppleganger. Scratch isn't just a part of the Dark Place or someone taken by it. He actively tries to replace Alan--and it must be terrifying.

His gaze drops and she falls silent so he can explain himself. She isn't mad--not now. There was a time she was, feeling that no matter what she did she couldn't help. That feeling is still there, but, she's become more resigned to it now. That want to help him is still there, just tempered, boxed by realizations. It was a miracle Polaris could even guide him here.

« I remember that nudge--at least the feeling of it. The plan wasn't for me to talk to Alan first. I was going to send Steve, maybe even Estevez. Then, I felt it thst familiar pull, like when he reached out in the elevator. I went instead of sending one of the others. »

A frown pulls further at her face at his final statement. It's obvious who that is and what happened. That part she remembers vividly. Its her own choice, she set it up to trigger what she could of it. She made the point so much to herself that she keeps the aftermath in her dreamstate. ]

I remember that part.

[ Jesse hopes he doesn't know the details of how it went down. She imagines he couldn't believe it happened in the story--maybe that he even wrote it. Or, maybe it was just vague enough that Scratch could do what he wanted. ]

It wasn't because of you, Alan. He did it because he can't stand Polaris--her resonance. I don't know why or what it is about it, but he was pretty clear on the fact that we couldn't "vibe well together."

[ « No matter what Alan does, Scratch is going to come after us. Which means we need to be smarter about it. Faster. Better. » ]

Edited 2023-10-17 04:58 (UTC)

[ Just like before, his fingers curl around hers. Why it feels so right to be holding her hand, he isn't sure, but the contact helps. Feeling her hand in his helps.

He can only guess at what was said about him that led to Scratch coming to life. Of course, as a one-time bestselling author with his share of public disturbances, it makes sense that rumors would be spread. But just how far did people go with their rumors? Whatever it was, it was enough for the power of Cauldron Lake to take rumor and turn it into reality. But to Alan, Scratch's existence is a nightmare brought to life.

It's because of his past actions that he exists, and in Alan's mind, that makes him his responsibility. He won't allow Jesse to put herself in the line of fire. It has to be him.

A part of Alan still expects rejection. Jesse could turn her back on him, and he wouldn't blame her in the least. But now that he explained why he did what he did, he feels as though there's only one thing he can do that would really rectify his mistake. But what he can't get over is how the story changed... became corrupted, if he wanted to be clear about how he feels. He never meant to get Jesse killed. She wasn't supposed to die.

Maybe he left it too vague, and that's how Scratch got in. Maybe he implied too much and didn't close enough of the loopholes. Maybe it's his fault. ]

Are you sure about that? Can you say that it wasn't because of me and not have doubts? Because I can't. He might not be able to stand Polaris, but how did he find an opening? Did I write one, or did I not write the right thing to close it?

[ There's a page balled up and wedged into a corner of Alan's bag. It's there for a reason, almost as if Alan stuck it there because he never wanted to see it again. Unlike the pages that Alan wrote and kept and believed because he trusted what he could see on said pages, this page is different. It's wrong. It's ugly, blunt, and brutal, but he didn't write it. He refuses to even think that he could have written it.

The idea might have started out as his, but the Dark Place takes ideas, pulls them out, twists them into unrecognizable things. That has to be it. He never would have done this. The thought slides into Alan's mind almost like a worm sliding into a hole in the ground. The page I won't ever read again. No, I won't tell her about it. Not that I need to. She knows what happened, doesn't she? She doesn't need to be reminded. ]

It all comes back to it being my fault that Scratch exists. If he didn't, he wouldn't have his eyes on you. On either of you. He wouldn't be a thing that wants you and Polaris gone.

[ I need to contain him, but how? ]

How do you destroy a shadow, when turning on the lights isn't enough?

[ Her opinion is that rumors took a life on their own. It wasn't so much tied to Alan Wake the Writer, but some creature that used to be Alan Wake. Maybe stories that people made up to explain why a writer would suddenly go missing in a backwater town in Washington State with no body ever left behind. Maybe they were even influenced by Scratch without any of them realizing it. It's hard to really say when she knows so little.

Stories can take on a life of their own and go places that writers never expect them to. Inspiration. Art as a living thing. If she doesn't die then someone else probably does. Someone in the town who had no reason to die. Someone probably connected to the mess of the AWE in 2010. Jesse isn't fooling herself. Someone is probably going to have to die--someones. It's a horror story.

Stakes, monsters, and near survivals.

The question is if Alan can bring himself to write what he has to.

Jesse nods. ] Yes, I am that sure. Yes, I can. Because he came after me even when you put walls between us. He came after the Bureau. Even if you wrote me out of the story? He'd torment my people, and that would get my attention. No matter what you took away from us? I would be involved. You know that.

[ Her hands move to cup his face between them. ] He found an opening. Now, we need to keep him from finding another one. You know what he's capable of, and you know what the story needs. Use both those things and get him at his own game.

[ « Because, if he can't, then who is going to? Do any of us have the ability to do it outside of Alan? He knows how to fight the Darkness, and we only get bits and pieces of that information. He KNOWS how to, it's just scattered in his head. Could you help him find it? I... I can't go that far in--I can't go behind that door. Maybe we can find a way for you to go further in if he drifts far off. You got him here. You found something to resonate with. We can do it again. »

Polaris shimmers. It's worth a try. ]

We'll figure it out.

[ « Somehow--later. I don't... I don't want t o talk about him anymore right now. Not when Alan may never find his way back to the Motel. Not when the next time we meet, it'll be another round of trying to reach out and failing. I'm TIRED of this. I'm tired of circling and going nowhere. I'm tired of circling and losing this because he keeps writing barriers to keep it from happening. I... I just want something more than a white room to sleep in away from the Oldest House. I don't want to be like Trench or Northmoor before me. I can't. It's not me. I've never wanted to be with someone before, because I never had someone I could trust like this. Now, I don't want to let it go. »

The hands on his face move to grab the lapels of his wet coat. Her fingers curl into the fabric and she pulls him down against her. Not that it's very difficult. There isn't even a need to use her powers for it.

It might be an odd shift for him as she seemingly changes from that confident sounding Director to someone visibly on the edge of being emotional. Someone who is trying to keep it together and seem like she is in control, when nothing about the situation around her is. Alan is in complete control of their fates. She wants to trust him with that and believe he'll make the right choice for all of them. His story is going to have a good ending because it can't have a bad one after all of this hell.

Yet, he took something away from her.

« I don't want him to disappear like everyone else. » ]

Put it back in. [ While her voice might normally sound in command and intimidating? It's far from that even if the words are ones that would be. She's vulnerable and trying to hide the fact that she is. ] Put us back into the story. I don't--I don't care if that means you have to make me come in later, or be in it at the end, or whatever you have to do. But, you have to put it back in.

[ Maybe that's what the rumors did, aided by the power of Cauldron Lake. It's very to Alan that Scratch became more real and more present in the real world as more time passed. Of course, all Alan has to work with are the video messages Scratch sent him, but how else is he supposed to take them? People died in those videos, if they can be believed. A ghost can't stomp someone out, after all.

Just thinking about Scratch and the horrors that he's done and what he's capable of makes Alan shiver. Scratch terrifies him, and in many ways, he scares him a hell of a lot more than the Dark Place does. He can't fight the Dark Place, but Scratch is on a whole other level of evil, despicable, and absolutely, entirely frightening.

That question is one that Alan has no ready answer to. He knows what he needs to do, which is to start by fishing the how-to of it all from out of the depths of his own mind. The second part of that is finding the guts, the stupidity, and the nerve to do what he needs to.

Toying with the lives of others is something he has a hard time coming to grips with, because these are actual lives that he's taking and altering in the name of a story. ]

I never should have used you, or your people. Even if you would have always had to get rid of things like Hartman, and the Hiss, and whatever else lurked around your headquarters, I shouldn't have named you in the story.

[ If she hadn't just moved to cup his face in her hands, he would have let his face fall so he could bury it in his own hands. He has to have the answer to this somewhere in his jumbled, messed up thoughts, but he can't clear away the rubble long enough to even find it. But no one else knows how to do this but him, just like Jesse's already thought. ]

I need to figure it out. Now. Or at least, sooner and not later. Later gives him more time, and he's already had too much of that. I just- I just don't know where to start.

[ Giving up isn't an option, and it never was, but there are moments when Alan just wants to lie down and let whatever happens happen. It'll be bad, and people will die; he might even die if he just lets the Dark Presence take over everything. But the answers are so unclear and his path forward is obscured that giving up seems so very, very tempting at times. But then if he does give up the fight, then everything he's done up till this point will have been for nothing.

He doesn't resist or pull away when Jesse grabs him by the lapels of his coat and pulls him down so that he's resting against her. ]

Jesse, I- [ His words die before he can complete them. She sounds the same as he feels: like she's coming apart at the seams. Like she's uncertain and on edge and feeling every emotion all at once. Can she trust him to make the right choice for all of them when he doesn't even know if he can? ]

I want to put it back in. You don't know how many times I wanted to. How many times I started writing just that. Sometimes I almost finished it. Sometimes I didn't get halfway there before something changed it.

[ I'm scared to put it back in. I want it more than I want anything, even to escape this hellhole for good. But I'm scared. Terrified. And I have the reason why right here with me. ]

If I put it back in, then I know what I have to do. I can't run from it. I won't run from it. I-

[ He wasn't ever going to show her what's shoved into the furthest possible corner of his bag, but even though he tried to hide it, he couldn't forget that it was there. He has to dig deep into the bag to find it, but when he does, his fingers curl around it and pull out a wrinkled, crumpled up piece of paper. ]

If I put it back in, I know what will happen. I know how it looks. [ And I have to live with this happening to her again and again and again until I figure out how to stop it.

He leans forward a fraction then and presses his forehead against hers once more as his emotions threaten to drag him down again. ]

We're past the "shouldn't have" part of all this, Alan. The Buearu investigates these things--my people would be involved even if you didn't name them. You have to use what is available and realistic, right? Well, realistically, we would show up the moment Cauldron Lake starts to be active again.

Stop going over the same things again and again about what you could've done differently. It won't help. [ Her forehead gently presses back against his. ] The facts and players are already on the table. If you have to, start from the very beginning again. Rearrange everything. Go back to the very start. What's the name of this story? What's the point?

If we need to, we can use one of the walls to put everything together. [ She lifts a hand to gesture behind her at the door to one of the rooms. ] It's not like anyone else is using the room.

[ Jesse let's her raised hand travel down and wrap around the hand holding the manuscript page that's balled up. She has a feeling what page that is. She made sure she didn't forget what happened at the end of her part in that loop. It was brutal, and horrifying, and eventually the pain numbed out due to the injuries. It was a consequence of getting close to Alan Wake, but she doesn't regret it at all. He's not the only one who has let people down, gotten them killed, left them to fates unknown.

« I wish I could make him see that. »

She swallows the lump in her throat to try and clear the emotions from her voice. It won't work because this is too personal. Still, she'll try anyways.]

You have to put it back in. [ Her voice is filled with too many emotions, but one is very clear: fear. ] You have to. When you write the story right, and find the ending you need? If it's--if we--aren't in it... it's going to disappear. We won't be real anymore. That's what happens when you alter reality with the stories, isn't it? What's on the pages becomes the new version and no one but people like us know the difference.

[ The hand in his jacket gives another tug as the other curls around his hand tighter. The story will have to change so he can get where he needs to go. That way he can finally be out of the Dark Place. She isn't stupid--she knows it. But, it's the one request she has of the writer that controls their fates at the moment. ]

I don't care where you put me in this new version of the story. I don't care how big or small of a "part" I end up playing. Just... put us back in. Even if is just that nudge again, maybe we can follow through with it again...

[ « Don't disappear. Don't make us disappear to some dream that maybe we had. Some crazy "what if" thought as this whole AWE unfolds. Please. Don't take it away for good. »

She hesitates briefly before kissing him again. It's timid, shy, asking if he truly wants what they have (had?). There has to be a way to make it work in the story. They can't be that unrealistic--can they? ]

Edited 2023-10-18 17:27 (UTC)

It's not that simple. Logically, maybe it is. But try telling my brain to be logical right now. Call it what you want: me being crazy, a side effect of the Dark Place, maybe even both... the rules of logic don't always apply.

But... in the end, you're right, I think. The pieces are already on the board, if not already set in motion. No, they're not set in motion, because I haven't set them anywhere yet. I can reset them. But that's not the problem; the problem is, I don't know what the point is. Getting out of the Dark Place? Sure. But what else?

[ Could he hope to go back to his old life when all this is over? Part of him doubts that's possible. But that might not be what she's asking. ]

That's the strange thing. It should be called Initiation, but... [ But the one that I saw, I didn't write, even though it had my name on it. ]I don't think even I know what the point of it is supposed to be, as crazy as that sounds.

[ Maybe her idea of using the walls as a sort of storyboard isn't such a bad idea.

But Alan's focus scatters once again, and the presence of the crumpled up page isn't helping with that. He's made mistakes, and the guilt from that is all he can focus on at the moment. He can't see past the wrongs he's done and the casualties that took the fall because of it.

Still, somehow Jesse manages to pull him out of his swirling thoughts once more with nothing but her voice. He can't ignore her anyway, but he definitely can't when she sounds the way she does. She pulls him in even when she doesn't mean to. ]

I'm scared to put it back in. [ He isn't too proud to admit that. ] But- [ When faced with what the alternative is, he realizes that scares him more. ] I don't want to lose this. I don't want to lose you. Don't think for a second that I do. I- [ His voice has been relatively steady until now, but it wavers then. ] I want this to be real. I want us to be real.

[ He leans into her just a fraction more as she tugs on his jacket again. ] I couldn't just write you in as a side character. You're- You'd be the most important one. [ The one that I want to protect, even though I know I can't. ]

Maybe... Maybe you're the key to all this. If I can't find the way, maybe you can. [ Maybe if he writes her into the new version of the story and finally lets her help, she's the one that solves the problem. He becomes the supporting character and she takes on the principal role, the linchpin in the operation. It's certainly a thought.

But like before, thoughts fly away when she kisses him, and he leans in to return the kiss. He wants this. He wants what they had once; he wants to have it back. ]

Okay. So, if it's not the rules of logic, then what are the rules? [ She can't really help guide him if she doesn't understand how the Dark Place works. Maybe she knew at one point. He may have told her everything he knew in the loop he erased. ] You can't plan the rest until you're out. Don't get lost in the details that come after the next step. Your story is to be out, right? So, we focus on getting the pieces together that line up for that.

"Initiation"... after Departure, before Return. [ « I'm starting to think maybe I should of remembered more of my literature classes. » ] Let's define the point of the story--what it's there for. Then, we can work from there. What's the point of initiation in a story?

[ Her face pulls into an expression that is hard to define. Hurt, fear, worry, uncertainty, but still with an undercurrent of love and care. He says one thing but his actions up until now say the exact opposite. What is it that he wants and he'll do then? Does he want to have something, or does he want to push it away?

« He says he wants what I want... but is it going to be what he really does? Can I really believe he'll find a way to put us back into this story? I shouldn't even ask for it. It's a direct hand in an AWE and it's a mess. But, I can't help it. This isn't just some AWE to me. I'm not sure it ever has been. The strings he's pulled... I was always going to have a hand in this somehow. Even if it wasn't what he expected at first. »

She shakes her head slightly, her forehead still resting against his. ]

No, I'm not the most important character. You are. It's your story; your escape. I'm here to help you--remember? That's why you brought me into this. [ Jesse gently presses against his forehead again. ] Don't shift the focus away onto me like that. It has to revolve around you. Or you may never get out.

[ If he can't get out, then, they won't be real.

Even if they could cross paths to one another in the Motel like this? It wouldn't be real like they want. Just two ships that pass one another now and again. That's not enough for Jesse. She wants more. She wants to enjoy sunrises and sunsets, meals, being what normal people are. Doing what normal people do.

« I really do love him, don't I? Did I tell him? Did he just know somehow? »

It takes a moment, but Jesse leans entirely into the kiss as she just had. While the kiss may be tinged with other emotions? That hunger and passion is still there and making itself known. Her fingers around his hand slide underneath the crumpled manuscript page to dislodge it. She flings it away with her powers for now, wanting to help him focus on just this. Not what happened to her, not what he had done in the following aftermath. Just them.

If only she wasn't so bad at people. Relationships. She could communicate more of what she wants and wants him to do. Yet, a certain itch claws into her at the idea of trying to nudge in the way for them to be more comfortable. No wet clothes, no messenger bag with a weird lamp and endless amounts of papers in it. She's only in the blouse and slacks of that more official garb of hers, but whatever he wanted to go to be comfortable she'd follow. It's just... trying to get that across. Especially as she presses against him and parts her lips in the kiss for him.

« It all feels so natural. How close did we get? » ]

Edited 2023-10-19 16:32 (UTC)

I don't know. I thought I knew once, but everything's become so buried. Confused. It's exactly what the Dark Presence wants. If I'm so turned around that I can't even tell which way is up, then I could just keep sinking deeper while thinking I'm escaping.

[ Don't get lost in the details, she said. Wake was lost. Already lost. Had been for awhile. And that was just the way it was supposed to be- No, it isn't. That can't be how this goes. ]

That's the problem, isn't it? Initiation can mean different things: a beginning. A rite of passage, a way to join something. A group. A gang. It doesn't matter. I don't even remember what I was going with by choosing that as the title.

[ Alan's expression really does fall this time, even though Jesse is just inches away. The questions she's asked are questions he's wondered as well. And he hates to think that he might have to do exactly what she's afraid he'll do: break her trust. Lie. Do the exact opposite of what she's asking him to. If he does that, if he goes against what she's asked, then is he any better than a garden variety villain? ]

I'm the main character in a story that I've forgotten how to write. [ He laughs, and it's a cutting sound. He's beginning to realize that he's losing confidence in himself and faith in the idea that he can write his way out of this. ] I may never get out. I never wanted to admit it, and maybe I just couldn't face it, but it's a possibility, isn't it?

[ Is it him shifting focus onto her, or is it something else making him do that? Is it something trying to keep him distracted from the goal that he just loses sight of it and never finds it again? Maybe Jesse's purpose in being here is to just offer a hand to hold and a listening ear, but nothing more. Maybe she can't truly help him, if he doesn't know how to help himself.

Wake needed a hero. Was Faden the hero? Were there any heroes left in the world or outside the world? The writer frowned in frustration.

The voice was back: Alan's own voice, reading out lines that he thought sounded familiar but couldn't remember ever writing, let alone thinking. His focus had shifted. Not just to the idea of making Jesse the main character, but... it had shifted away. It wasn't unreachable. He wasn't unreachable. But something was trying to bury him again in spite of this being a dream-state. Jesse's dream-state. Part of him feels like he's drowning again. No, I don't want to keep diving deeper. I don't want to drown.

Just when that feeling of drowning beneath the waves starts to intensify, he feels Jesse's lips on his as she kisses him again. The haze that was falling over his eyes clears and he's back in the moment. Back in the motel with Jesse. He dimly registers the crumpled manuscript page sliding out from his fingers and flying away from him. He doesn't stop to question it. That page should never be seen again. He never wants to see it again.

When did you realize you love her? Was it during that first time around? Does it matter? Does she know how you feel? The questions form one right after another, and Alan has to admit to himself that he doesn't know the answers to them. He hopes that by sharing this moment, these kisses, it's enough to tell her that he loves her. He wants to be with her. And he wants to do what she's asked.

He leans further into the kiss, although both of them have leaned in quite a bit already. There isn't much further they can go, but Alan is determined to go as far as he can, until no space between them remains. I want to make this real. I don't want this to just become a memory that only one of us remembers. Why can't this be real?

... If I write it again, can I really put us back in? His eyes slide closed as he deepens the kiss just another fraction. And the voice in his head chooses this moment to comment.

A beginning had to be written. The story had to begin again. Had to start over. It clamored for the facts, and only the facts. No fat. No distractions. Time was not on the writer's side. But could the writer do it?

Alan feels a shift, and he tries to ignore it. Tries to resist. He doesn't want to get rid of them. He can't cut them out. I won't... Can't you let me have just this one thing?

He shifts even as he kisses Jesse. I can't do it. I can't give this up. I won't give this up. ]

... Jesse. [ He mumbles her name against her lips. Quietly. Almost silently. But she might still feel it, even if she doesn't hear it. ]

Edited 2023-10-20 08:54 (UTC)

[ « It sounds just like with Trench and the Hiss. Turning things inside out, making things confused. Losing parts of yourself. Is it because he's been stuck in the Dark Place? Or, did something else happen in Bright Falls...? » ]

Then we map out everything you have. Start from there and see where it can go. That way you can see all your notes--oldest to newest. Maybe you can see something that way.

[ They really do need to borrow one of the walls of the Motel. ]

What if its all of them? Every single meaning. A story that uses every concept of "Initation" in order to move things for you to get out?

Don't stay that. Don't even think it. You're going to get out. You'll be home in our reality. Alan. You defeated the Dark Presence once. You can do it again.

[ « How did that one song go? It was all the rage a few years after he disappeared. "It's always darkest before the dawn." He might find it cliche if I said it. Even if it is true. »

The laugh cuts her in a way she wasn't expecting. He seems so ready to give up and give in. Maybe just write himself some sort of fake reality and ending in the Dark Place. It is a possibility, but one she refuses to acknowledge. This would be for nothing if he went for that ending. Or, the ending where he simply let the Dark Presence win. If he picked that ending...

She would have to end it.

Then there would be no one left in the room with her that understood the world behind the poster.

Her expression knots at the idea.

« We can't let that happen. You can't let it happen. We have to do something. »

Polaris shifts and glimmers, trying to help bring the writer back to the present. She knows it's what Jesse wants, and their relationship is a symbotic one. One does for the other then returns it. Harmonized in a way. Jesse had asked for her help, so she would do what she can.

A gentle breath leaves her as their kiss ends and she feels dizzy. Weird, given the fact she's on the floor. Still, it's a good dizzy. A feeling that she finds she enjoys having. It's not the same feeling as the slide of "The Meadow." She hasn't lost control in a sense... just given into the feeling of it all.

Rather, she's getting to that point.

She feels her name more than hears it. Not just his lips on hers, but the vibration of the letters and sounds. It causes her to shiver in his arms, the sensation building at the base of her spine before spreading. It... something about how he says her name makes something click in her mind. Almost like sliding into place. Some part of her memory dislodged but now back where it should be, even if the images have been erased.

Another breathe releases as she almost seems to melt in his hold. She entirely relaxes, only shifting to erase the spaces between him. The hand wrapped in his jacket curls and tugs at the wet clothing. It needs to come off, but now that there is no spaces between them? She doesn't want to move away. ]

Alan... [ She says his name in turn and how he had said hers. Barely a whisper, but hoping he can feel the resonance on his mouth.

Her lips graze over his once more as another shiver takes hold of her.

This is it--the feeling she had been missing. This closeness to him, physically and emotionally. That feeling she could let down those last few walls of not only trust but control. In a way she supposes it means more than simply saying "I love you." Especially coming from her. She can feel it in the way he says her name that it's the same for him.

Her hand leaves his in order to wrap around him again. It buries itself in his drying mess of hair. Now the only question is who will tip first and lead the other? ]

Edited 2023-10-20 10:35 (UTC)

Everything I have, huh? I kind of have a lot. At least, a lot of what I managed to save. Some of it's gotten lost. [ Kind of like my memories. ]

That would make sense with how this place works. If it's every meaning all at once, that fits with the rules of the Dark Place. If you can call them rules, anyway. It's almost like... what you think makes sense doesn't make sense. And something completely nonsensical is actually logical. Up is down in here. I mean, in there.

[ It's easy to forget that this isn't the Dark Place. ]

How can I not think it? Even if I manage to forget about how the Dark Presence wants me to keep thinking about it, it's- It's as realistic an outcome as anything I could write. It would be unrealistic of me to not think that it's a possibility. [ Alan's voice wavers, and a more emotional tone slips through. He's still desperate, and still drowning, and afraid, and all of that sounds in his voice.

His eyes shift for a moment when he senses Polaris. It's faint, and in his somewhat agitated state, it's hard to focus on her. He needs a lifeline, the lifeline that Jesse and Polaris offer, but his grip seems to be slipping even though he's desperately trying to hold on.

It's why there's both need and urgency in the way he kisses her and in how he says her name. This might be one of the last times he'll connect with anyone like this, but if it is, he's glad that it's with Jesse. She understands that there's weird and wild things in the world, and from outside the world, and she hasn't turned away from them. She hasn't turned away from him, and that means more to him than he can say.

The still-wet clothes cling to him, and he'd tear off the coat, at least, but that would mean backing away from Jesse and losing the closeness that they have. He's not willing to do that, not even to shed some of the layers.

A sigh escapes him when her hand buries itself in his hair. His reaction is immediate. He leans into her a little more and slowly pushes against her in what would be an intimate way, if she allows him to. And if she does allow it, instead of kissing her on the mouth, he plants a kiss on the side of her neck, the hairs of his uncared for beard brushing against the skin there. ]

Then it's a good thing we have all the time in the world. Until you go back through the door, anyways. We can sort through everything.

We should sort it all by those things then. Different categories for the different meanings of "Initiation." Once we have that? Finding that pathway should be a little easier. Or, at least, get an idea of how to write the story.

[ Her grip tights on his jacket. ] Because I'm not giving up. If I have to dive into the Lake to pull you out of this dimension? I will. It wouldn't be my first Threshold and it won't be my last.

[ Dangerous things happen when a man is desperate. It's why she is trying to pull him from drowning. Neither of them know what lurks in the depths of the Dark Place. Whatever it is? It's waiting to let hell lose on their reality. The Dark Presence just may be the beginning... there could be something worse.

« Which is why he needs to wake up. Stay lucid. Be present. »

She expects another kiss, but instead, he shifts against her. Plants a kiss on her neck. It's hard to describe everything she feels at once, as all of it seems to demand her full attention. Another shudder takes her and she pushes against him in return. A small sound escapes her. Small because she still tries to control everything about her reactions. Yet, her head tilts for him to continue his kisses if he choose.

Her eyes flutter shut and that rumbling feeling returns. Fingers curl themselves into his hair more and her other hand finally leaves his jacket to slide underneath it and wrap around his shoulders that way.

If she's a lifeline, then, he is like a pole. Someone to hold onto when all of these emotions and senses come at her all at once.

Despite her attempts, Jesse feels that control she keeps a iron grip on begin to slip. The rumbling--vibration--seems to escape her grasp. It's an inaudible frequency, but, it does seem to make the light they are under brighter. Not by much, as she's honestly terrified of Alan's reaction of he notices.

« It's you, isn't it? Your resonance, it's... something about him, or inside him, is making you louder. You're... amplifying? Off what? I can't ask him--it'd be too weird. Even for Alan. »

Another feeling tries to overtake her and at least this feeling is hers. The want and almost need to let go; simply just be herself with all of her reactions on display for him to see. He knows about Ordinary, he's seen a glimpse of her behind that wall she hides behind. Alan wouldn't turn away if she let go--but, others did. Others she tried to trust like the trust he's asking for.

« What if he leaves if I let go? »

Her hand bunches in his shirt.

« He'd leave like everyone else. »

"I don't know what hell is wrong with you. You know whatever you think happened in Ordinary wasn't real. An industrial accident, Jesse. Everyone confirmed it! None of it happened! God, why the fuck are you like this?! Every single god damn time! I can't take this shit anymore with you. You know what? You don't need me. You need a god damn institution! Normal people aren't like this, Jesse! Fuck, can't you just be normal for once?"

« He didn't say that. Not once in any version of this story. It was someone else from a long time ago. I... I couldn't tell him about Ordinary. Dylan. Mom and Dad. I couldn't let him that close. But, now, he could... especially if he realizes you're... »

It had been someone else in another time and what feels like another life. Someone she thought could understand. The last person she tried to open up to before the Oldest House. They broke up, if it wasn't obvious, and she did exactly what he had suggested. Committed herself.

That just made everything worse.

It wasn't Alan that said it, but she hears his voice in her mind saying those words.

Her hands shake. They're already so close. But, she wants to pull him closer; to pull him further in. Her body is already reacting that way to his touches and kisses. She's almost begging herself to just let that tightly wound control go for him, but she can't seem to bring herself to do it. How can she tell him she's trying but--she needs help to do so?

« I don't know how to. I need... I need help. Someone to show me how. But, Alan needs a hero, doesn't he? How can I ask when he needs my help? I... I just want to feel close to him. Like normal people are. I don't know how. » ]

Edited 2023-10-21 18:01 (UTC)

[ What if I just never leave? Why would I ever want to leave this, when everything I could possibly want is right here? ...But it's not, is it? Even if I have Jesse here, this isn't living. I couldn't ask her to just put her life on hold for me. It doesn't matter that I don't know what's out there waiting for me. She still has a life ahead of her, and I may or may not be in it when I finally get out.

It's a hard truth for him to accept, but he feels as though he has no choice but to accept it. Better to be prepared and braced for it than to be completely blindsided by it later. ]

I'm going to be honest, I don't want to go back through that door. Of course I know that I have to. I can't stay here forever. But for now... For now, we should get to work. Every story has to have a beginning, middle, and end. I guess that we should start by figuring out the beginning.

[ But then it registers just what she says, and suddenly, Alan is all tension and rigidity, and a hard look comes into his eyes. ] You won't. I won't let you. If you dive into the lake, there's no telling if you'll come out. Or what you'll look like if you do come out. [ A part of him wonders if her guide would be enough to counter the effects of the Dark Presence. He knows he doesn't ever want to find out. ]

You have to promise me you won't go into the lake. [ I couldn't stand it if she did. If anyone that I care about did, I couldn't take it.

He doesn't stop kissing her, moving a little further down her neck, trailing kisses as he goes. Of course, the collar of her shirt is in the way, so he has to stop eventually, but that just means he goes back to the beginning, pressing deep, hungry kisses full of need against her mouth.

The feeling of her hand against his shoulders sends shivers up his own spine as he relishes the sensation of someone touching him. Maybe he's more starved for touch than he realized. Maybe it's Jesse's touch that stirs up something inside him.

Something else is stirring too, something else that he's felt in moments of sheer desperation: when he's fighting, or running, or otherwise clashing with the minions of the Dark Presence. His flashlight is off, and it's in the bag he carries, but somehow, the light around them is growing stronger. Brighter. Chasing away the shadows that have been Alan's evil, extremely unwanted companions for the last who-knows-how-long.

What is this? It can't be- Is it Polaris? She's Jesse's guiding star, not mine. I have too much darkness inside me and around me for her to want to reach out.

And the sad part is, Alan really believes that about himself. Sure, he can manipulate light to drive away darkness, but the Dark Presence has touched him. He might as well be the antithesis to Polaris's resonance.

If Jesse wants to pull him closer, well, she doesn't have long to wait, as Alan wants to bring her closer. They're already so close, but they could be closer somehow.

Maybe... just maybe what the two of them need, what the two of them are trying to do for the other in their own way is help the other.

Alan needs a lifeline, someone to keep pulling him out when he starts to sink. Jesse needs someone who can be something to hold onto when the forces and resonances and sensations leak out from behind the poster on the wall and threaten to overwhelm. He might not be able to ground himself against everything that comes to batter his defenses, but if he can be a rock and a foundation for Jesse when she needs those things? He wants to try.

He reaches for her with his free hand, moving to touch her hair before positioning it against her shoulders in an attempt to offer his support, for whatever it's worth.

Perhaps they really are just two people carrying their own sets of baggage and needing a hand to shoulder the load, if only they could learn how to let each other in. ]

[ It isn't living--it's a dream. One that she wishes didn't end. Away from everything, with someone who understands. Someone she loves--even if he may not feel the same way exactly. She can taste the hunger in his kisses. She knows he wants the intimacy and the closeness. The emotions... maybe it's best if she keeps that to herself. ]

How did the last story end? You need to know that to write the next part, right? You never said how you got stuck in the Dark Place. Reports said you dove into...

[ « He dove into the lake. »

His hard expression makes sense then. The threshold closed after he dove and that's why he has to write himself out. A look of understanding comes into her eyes. ]

Sorry--I didn't, I didn't mean it like that. Just that I'd go into a Threshold to pull you out. So... okay. Got it. No lake. I'll find another way if I have to.

[ She returns the kisses with the same intensity, but fumbles slightly at it. There's so much she is trying to keep in control. Polaris wanting to amplify, her own emotions wanting to run away with the moment, and that desire to pull him in. Normally she can control everything. But, now, in this position, she finds she may need to let one or more of them go.

Polaris may be the guiding star for Jesse--but around one constant they all revolve. Her resonance beats into this reality like a heartbeat now thanks to her catalyst. Her catalyst cares, and so she will lend aid. Not only that, but Alan has been touched by not only Dark but Light. One resonance that amplifies her own--makes both stronger.

Her eyes open the moment he touches her hair. Her gaze locks onto his immediately. The worry and fear are in the back of her eyes that he noticed. Not only that he noticed, but he'll pull away. It was different when she just had thr connection to Polaris and she tried to open up. Now, she's the source of the resonance. People like her and Alan could notice. What if it's too much...? ]

Sorry, [ Her voice is soft, ] I--she's just... I mean. Sorry, I'm trying to keep it together... I don't know why she's...

[ And just like that, Alan's mind has slid away to another place and time. The tension in his frame doesn't fade even with Jesse's statements of apology and saying she won't dive into the lake to get him out. He's sliding away, and the waves in his mind are slowly crashing on the shore as he retreats further into his own thoughts.

But even as he drifts away, words form and sound like a recitation that both of them know quite well by now, even if maybe the words are a little different. ]

...outside reality, what we count as real. [ If his hands weren't occupied by holding onto Jesse, they'd move to grip both sides of his head as they usually do when these unwanted thoughts seem to take hold. At least, this feels familiar in the worst way. Of all times for him to begin to spin out... ] They seeped in from the reality beyond. The mist. A caldera lake. Silence echoes. Loud. It's too late to hear the words. [ Stop this. I don't- I want this to stop. Why can't you leave me alone?

He doesn't even know who he's addressing with that desperate question. Maybe it's the voice in his own head that keeps on forcing him to recite words he's said before. How do you silence your own voice? ]

...stop. Just- stop. [ The words are mumbled to himself, not to Jesse. It's not her fault that he reacts like this when things set him diving off the deep end. ] Who is he? He doesn't himself know. Dark waves have washed it away.

[ He stiffens, although his frame is already quite rigid. ] Stay out of the lake. Don't- don't go into the water. [ It'll take her away too. I can't- I don't want to lose her. Don't take her away.

An image flashes into his mind again, but it's one he's never seen before, and never wants to see again: a redhead, wearing Jesse's clothes, diving into the lake. Alan gasps. His hands curl further around her as if reaching desperately once more for their lifeline. The image recedes, taking with it the words he feverishly recited. And just like that, Alan is himself again, but looking at Jesse through still-haunted eyes.

What he just experienced makes him want to hold onto her even tighter. He needs her, and he needs the brightness that Polaris makes happen. It's dark inside his head, but maybe Polaris and Jesse can help by bringing in a little illumination. His hands are shaking now, but he keeps holding onto her, keeps kissing her with even more desperation, if that's even possible. This isn't just him filling up the hunger inside him with contact with any old person.

It's fueled by desperation and need, but beneath that, there's love: a need to be loved and give it in return. ]

... Jesse. [ The way he says her name sounds breathless, but no less direct or sure. He needs her, but he doesn't want to drive her away with that need. He has to give her something in return. ] You- you don't have to keep it together. [ Trust me. Please. ] You can let go.

[ Let go, so that they can meet each other in the middle of it all. Two people bringing what they have to give to the other, to share it. He's noticed what Polaris is doing, as the resonance is all but impossible to ignore. Jesse is impossible to ignore. She pulls him in, and he wants to be pulled in. Will she pull away from him now? ]

[ Her expression falls as she sees the far away look take his eyes again. Alan spiraling away isn't new, but this time it's different. This time it's her fault. All that comes to mind in the brief moment is when Dylan "surrendered." Standing in his cell, realizing Polaris was there with her.

"YOU! You came in through the hole in you. We let you in! You've always been here, the only child. A copy of a copy of a copy of a copy--"

"STOP IT!"

What he recites is something she hasn't heard before. There's a slight curiosity in what he does say, even if more of a sense of fear grips her. Is there anything she actually can do for him? He can't have been taken like Dylan was by the Hiss. Dylan wanted the Hiss in--to be their amplifier. Alan doesn't. He doesn't want any of this. He didn't ask for any of this.

« All he wanted was to save his wife. He did, and now he's stuck like this. How can we do anything for him? You... can you cleanse him like we did Dylan? Is that possible? Or, do you not work against the Darkness like you do the Hiss? »

His hands shake and Jesse focuses back on him. Just like that, he's there with her again. Scared, haunted, but with her. Her eyebrows knit as it's clear on her face that she's worried. Scared for him. ]

I promise I won't go into the Lake. Okay? I swear. [ « I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--it wasn't meant like that. I should have realized sooner it was something not to say. Shit. Shit. It's my fault. Just like with Dylan. Shit. » ] We'll find another way to pull you up. I promise.

[ Polaris shimmers slightly as if agreeing.

He's kissing her again and this time she struggles to keep up with to answer that desperate need. Not only because of her own struggling to be in control, but, because she's trying to bring him back to her. It's all so much, even if Polaris shimmers to get her to let go of something. How can she? When she isn't in control, everything falls apart. She doesn't want this to fall apart.

Her gaze focuses on him once again as he speaks--more himself this time than anything. Haunted still, but at least it's not narration of a story or his own actions.

What he asks makes her swallow hard.

« I want to. How do I let him in? How do I let go of things like he's asking? We're supposed to be working to find a way to get him OUT. Now we're... but I want this. I want him. What he took away.

Just--don't. Don't put the poster back up once you've seen behind. »

She swallows again.

You can let go.

Her hands slide to his chest and gently push him up. Not away, because she is following right after him. She directs him against the wall to their side, hands still on his chest, as she slightly hovers over him. He is already in control of of all of it. The story, their fates, even when her dream ends. Maybe that's what she's trying to grab back. By refusing to let them go, she holds onto something. Not leverage, but, something of them.

She hesitantly moves to sit on his lap, but not entirely, as she hovers over him. Jesse swallows again before looking up into his gray eyes. A vulnerability is in her own eyes that she's trying to not hide.

You can let go.

Her own hands tremble as they rest on his shoulders. God, why is she doing this? Every time she does... ]

... don't freak out. Okay? [ « Please don't run away. Don't leave. Don't be scared of me. » ] And... just, if I'm going to--then don't hold back.

[ She hopes he understands what she means. Giving up control is placing herself in his hands and judgements. This moment is different than life of death. Instead, she's giving him control of her. This. Where they go from here.

Jesse kisses him again. It's timid, and slow, trying to see if what he said is true. If she really can trust him. The trembling hands move from his shoulders to each side of his face again as she deepens her kiss. She has to push down that need to direct and control, instead letting him decide the pace, movements, how far they go. If he has her sit down on him and erase the space between them again.

The lights flicker as they try to brighten. She's trying to let go. ]

Edited 2023-10-22 18:22 (UTC)

[ Is this what inspiration was for me? Not inspiration. Inspiration's gone. Terror. Fear. I'm scared. Don't drag me away. I don't want to go.

It wasn't Jesse's fault, and Alan knows it. He doesn't blame her for his reaction. His reactions are his own fault, the product of a mind that's terrified and in way over his head. If he can't get his fears under control, then how is he ever going to hope to write the story the way it needs to be written? He knows that he has to put himself and Jesse back in, the way they were before he cut them out.

If only he could just skirt the rules of how the story goes, and make the plotline be what he wants it to be: a man meets a girl. The man and the girl fall in love. The girl turns out to have been the hero all along, the driving force that keeps the man going. When the villain or demon shows up, the man and the girl blast him away with the largest light source in existence.

He did something like that before, once. It worked then, but it was only a temporary ending. It didn't destroy the demon for good. The demon will come back, and the man- Alan doesn't know what he'll do when he does.

Reason intervenes then and tells him that if he forces the story to go in ways that don't make sense, then the story has just as much of a chance of backfiring on him and seeing him trapped further... deeper beneath Cauldron Lake. But why can't it make sense? She wants this. I want it too. I love her, and she seems to love me, although part of me still doesn't understand why. ]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I keep falling apart. It's- [ It's ugly. Not something she should see. Not something anyone should see. Ugly, not functional. It serves no purpose. ]

The only way to do that is with the story. [ The story that he can't seem to figure out no matter what he does. The only thing he knows is that he'll never let anyone else near the lake just to save him. Saving him isn't worth the risk of seeing someone else pulled beneath the waves too.

Something nudges at his mind then; something telling him to say what might be an uncomfortable truth. He wants to reject it. Jesse most certainly will want to as well. But he needs to say it, so she at least knows it. Hears it. ] You should know- you need to know that if I can't write the story in the right way, if I can't write myself out of here... it's okay.

[ It sounds like he's giving up, but that's not what he means. In his mind, he's trying to give her permission to let him go, if it comes to that. ]

Even if I can't get out, you gave me something I wasn't looking to find. A connection. Togetherness. [ Love. ] I don't think I properly thanked you for that.

[ He doesn't deserve what she gave him, not when he wrote it and then ripped it out. Took that togetherness away from her. From them. But she's still here, still trying to help. Trying to keep him from giving up. It does mean a lot more to him than he could ever hope to put into words. ]

Maybe... maybe I can put us into the story, and give us the ending we both want. [ He's clinging to what feels like the last vestiges of hope, and he knows that he's dangerously close to letting go. But Jesse doesn't want him to let go. And more importantly, how can he do that to her?

He watches her, that haunted look in his eyes still present from the episode that's still far too recent for his liking. It might fade from his mind in time, but until it does, that uncomfortable, cold sweat feeling still clings to him.

But then she's pushing him up, and following after him until he's against the wall nearest them. She's hovering, and he still wonders how the hell she does that. Could she use what she can do to pull me out of here? No, I won't let her go anywhere near the lake. Not even to try it. It's dangerous for her too. I'm sure it is.

Her hands come to rest on his shoulders, and he looks at her, gray eyes meeting her blue-green ones. ]

I won't. I won't freak out. [ At least, not any more than I already am. Any more than I'm making myself freak out. Can she really trust me with this? Can I trust myself with anything?

But as soon as he asks that question of himself, he knows the answer is yes. He can trust himself with one thing: her. He can't let her down. Can't hurt her. But a time might come when he has to hurt both of them to do the right thing. He won't allow himself to think about that, however. They're not at that point yet. They're not even close.

His back arches slightly when she kisses him, responding immediately to her actions. He realizes now that he'd go all the way with her if she wanted to. And with that thought in mind, he reaches for her, hands resting on her forearms and giving a light tug. He wants her closer to him, even if she's only inches away. To have her closer means he can touch her and feel her and give the intimacy that they both seem to crave. ]

It's fine, Alan. Really. [ She shakes her head slightly at his apology. ] I just... I should have thought before I said it. Given your history with Cauldron Lake. I won't do it again.

[ « I can't see him go to pieces knowing it's my fault. If something else causes it? Then, that's fine. This? This was because of me and what I said. It's MY fault. »

Then, he implies it's okay to let him go.

Jesse finds herself shaking her head slightly. Her hair bounces off the sides of her face. He's going to find a way out. She'll help him, play her part, do what she's supposed to. Then... then maybe they'll have a chance to be real together. Like a weird couple trying to be normal is. Living together, having their jobs. Maybe he'd become a best selling novelist again. Maybe she can get the Bureau under order. There could be a happy ending--there has to be.

« No. Hell no. I'm not going to let him be stuck there. I looked for Dylan for SEVENTEEN years. I've been waiting for my baby brother to wake up for FOUR. I'm not going to let Alan be in the dark. I'm not going to let him suffer when I KNOW he's behind that door. » ]

You don't need to thank me because it wouldn't have happened without you writing. It's--I'm not letting you stay there forever. I'm helping you get out. No matter how many times you tell me not to, or that it's okay to leave you there? I'm NOT giving up.

[ « We found ways to help me remember in his story when I shouldn't. He should know I'm not going to let this go. I'm not going to let someone else I love disappear on me ever again. »

She follows his tug, easing against him. It would be nice to say it was practiced or habit, but, it's not for her. It's an awkward shift until she finds the right way to sit in his lap and not break their kiss. That familiar feeling comes back and soon the kiss moves from timid and uncertain to hungered. Her fingers brush along his beard.

How far had they gone in that loop? Why is she so desperate to be like this with him again? She knows they were close--how close she is still trying to figure out. ]

It's not, though. It's not fine, I- [ He feels his agitation rising again in spite of himself. Control yourself, Wake. Jesse can control herself. Why can't you? ] I can't keep getting set off by everything that just happens to be something I associate with- Never mind. [ He's rambled on enough and she's had to listen to it. He's not about to make her sit through his attempts at explaining himself.

He knew that when she realized what he was doing and saying, implying that it's all right to let him go, that she'd reject the idea entirely. No, it's not really all right with him, but if it comes about that there's nothing more he can do? Better to be resigned to it and prepared for it. If he can be prepared for it.

He wants that life with Jesse: a life with them sharing the same space, the same day-to-day. Coming home to the other, talking about their day (what can be shared of it, anyway) over dinner. It all sounds like a dream that he'd love to live. But the dream seems to be out of his reach. ]

I only wrote in the nudge and planted the idea. You took the rest and did what you wanted with it. If you'd turned around and told me to get lost, well- I wouldn't blame you. [ He offers her a smile that's genuine but just a little sad. ]

You've already helped me. You are helping me. You didn't leave when you found out how insane I am. [ How insane this place has made me. It means a lot that she stayed. I want to tell her I love her, but- I don't want to make things harder.

When she finds a way to sit that's comfortable for her and enables them to continue kissing, he slides his arms around her back, pulling her in a little closer to him. Her fingers brush against his beard, and that familiar shiver at the base of his spine begins again. It's only once, and it's slowly, as if he's asking if it's all right, but he rocks his hips upwards against hers, wondering what her reaction will be.

He's probably out of practice, but something about her (the connection, the loops, Jesse herself, whatever it is) makes him want to reawaken things he once could do effortlessly. To show her how much he loves her and desires her has suddenly claimed a good deal of his focus. He knows he should be trying to write the right ending, but- well... it seems that both of them have become a little distracted. ]

OCEANVIEW I

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