[ I don't understand. She said I called them, and they answered, and that's why they're here. How did I call them? Was it... No, it can't be. Did something get out? Something that wasn't supposed to get out? What did they see?
Alan's expression shifts and the frown lines on his forehead reform as he tries to think through a possibility that hadn't occurred to him before.
I send messages to myself. Things that I need to remember. Not me, specifically, because I remember them. But to myself, who might not remember. I know it's complicated, that's why they're only meant for me. But what if something got out?
...drowning. I'm drowning. I'm drowning. No, stop, you're not drowning, you're fine. They're here. You lost the guiding star, but the guiding star is HERE. She came back. Can she hear me?
Wait, Torchbearer? What?
Alan's spiral comes to a halt with the arrival of Polaris's message. It's not a message, exactly; it's images, sensations, feelings... He isn't sure where Polaris is going with it either, if it's meant to be encouraging him to keep fighting back against the nightmares with the only tools he has, or if it's something else entirely.
I've been fighting the nightmares for so long. Writing for so long. I'm tired. I just want to sleep. When will I be able to sleep?
His hand curls further against hers, clinging to it like it's his lifeline. She is his lifeline. He's had that thought before. But it's now more true than ever. He needs her and Polaris, or he'll only keep sinking. Drowning.
His other hand raises slowly, carefully, being mindful of how Jesse's fingers are lightly ghosting against the elbow patch on his sleeve and then curling to hold his elbow in a gentle caress. Once raised, he reaches out to rest his hand against her cheek in a tentative gesture. She doesn't fade from view as soon as he touches her, as he feared she would, so emboldened, he leans in just a fraction closer.
｟ A presence. We could hear it. A call. It was faint. ｠
A call? What did I say? I- sinking deeper. Deeper and deeper. No way out. Why won't this just stop?! I want... I want to just be Alan. Alan Wake. Alan Wake loves Jesse Faden. No, I'm not sitting in a tree with her. K-I-S- STOP. I- I need help. Polaris? I'm in the dark. It's so dark, I can't see. No light, there's no light.
Just like before, Alan's spiraling thoughts abruptly grind to a halt. What's happening? It's never been like this before. I'm here with Jesse one minute, and washing out the next. What is going on?
Alan's grip on Jesse's hand tightens, and the hand that's resting against her cheek curls reflexively too. Desperate, he leans in even closer just as Jesse takes another half step forward. His forehead meets hers, and he presses against her as much as he dares.
His eyes shift just enough to see the growing light from the lamp on the desk, and the flashlight that Jesse placed there. The light calls to him, urging him to be drawn in closer, not like a moth is drawn to flame, but a desperate man who's losing sight of that light. The deeper he goes, the darker it gets, and the less light he's able to see.
What kind of Torchbearer can't even see the light? Is this why I called to them? So they could help me find it again? Can they help me find it again?
Automatically, instinctively, Alan leans against Jesse. It's not enough to just touch their foreheads together. He needs to feel her, to know that she's real, dream or imagination aside. His hand slides down from her face, this time reaching for her waist and curling around it once it finds where it wants to come to a stop. ]
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Alan's expression shifts and the frown lines on his forehead reform as he tries to think through a possibility that hadn't occurred to him before.
I send messages to myself. Things that I need to remember. Not me, specifically, because I remember them. But to myself, who might not remember. I know it's complicated, that's why they're only meant for me. But what if something got out?
...drowning. I'm drowning. I'm drowning. No, stop, you're not drowning, you're fine. They're here. You lost the guiding star, but the guiding star is HERE. She came back. Can she hear me?
Wait, Torchbearer? What?
Alan's spiral comes to a halt with the arrival of Polaris's message. It's not a message, exactly; it's images, sensations, feelings... He isn't sure where Polaris is going with it either, if it's meant to be encouraging him to keep fighting back against the nightmares with the only tools he has, or if it's something else entirely.
I've been fighting the nightmares for so long. Writing for so long. I'm tired. I just want to sleep. When will I be able to sleep?
His hand curls further against hers, clinging to it like it's his lifeline. She is his lifeline. He's had that thought before. But it's now more true than ever. He needs her and Polaris, or he'll only keep sinking. Drowning.
His other hand raises slowly, carefully, being mindful of how Jesse's fingers are lightly ghosting against the elbow patch on his sleeve and then curling to hold his elbow in a gentle caress. Once raised, he reaches out to rest his hand against her cheek in a tentative gesture. She doesn't fade from view as soon as he touches her, as he feared she would, so emboldened, he leans in just a fraction closer.
｟ A presence. We could hear it. A call. It was faint. ｠
A call? What did I say? I- sinking deeper. Deeper and deeper. No way out. Why won't this just stop?! I want... I want to just be Alan. Alan Wake. Alan Wake loves Jesse Faden. No, I'm not sitting in a tree with her. K-I-S- STOP. I- I need help. Polaris? I'm in the dark. It's so dark, I can't see. No light, there's no light.
Just like before, Alan's spiraling thoughts abruptly grind to a halt. What's happening? It's never been like this before. I'm here with Jesse one minute, and washing out the next. What is going on?
Alan's grip on Jesse's hand tightens, and the hand that's resting against her cheek curls reflexively too. Desperate, he leans in even closer just as Jesse takes another half step forward. His forehead meets hers, and he presses against her as much as he dares.
His eyes shift just enough to see the growing light from the lamp on the desk, and the flashlight that Jesse placed there. The light calls to him, urging him to be drawn in closer, not like a moth is drawn to flame, but a desperate man who's losing sight of that light. The deeper he goes, the darker it gets, and the less light he's able to see.
What kind of Torchbearer can't even see the light? Is this why I called to them? So they could help me find it again? Can they help me find it again?
Automatically, instinctively, Alan leans against Jesse. It's not enough to just touch their foreheads together. He needs to feel her, to know that she's real, dream or imagination aside. His hand slides down from her face, this time reaching for her waist and curling around it once it finds where it wants to come to a stop. ]