[ Alan hears the voice, hears Polaris talking. Not exactly talking, but it might as well be talking. That's the easiest thing to call it. He hears her talking, he feels Jesse touching him, leaning against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She's hovering. Looking into his eyes. Polaris talks.
He holds onto her tighter. He's drowning. Slipping. Lost. I can't be lost. They're here. Why isn't this working? The voices... the voices won't stop! Why won't they stop? Why-
Alan's eyes have gone unfocused again as he drifts in the waves. He's always drifting, then coming back in, then drifting again. When will this end? Why don't the words end? I know these words. Do I know those words? Did I write them? Did I say them? What good are those words? I'm still here. I'm still here, still drowning. Still lost. Let me eat the words. Get new words.
Why doesn't she have new words? I need to write new words.
... But there's no words left. All the words are gone. Where did they go?
Alan's eyes refocus and he leans against Jesse more. No, he practically melts against her, all resistance and tension dissolving away, leaving him unable to stay upright. His eyes don't shift out of focus again, but this time, his mouth moves and words sound aloud, echoing around the room even as the lights on the desk grow brighter. They're growing brighter even as Alan's spiral continues, and even the eyes of the owl above the desk seem to shine a little bit more than usual. ]
Spiraling, circling the drain. The drain's a spiral. Makes a spiral. Down you go, to the lake. To the ocean. It's all water, isn't it? All water leads to more water. What am I saying? I've never said these words before. It's new words, but the words are wrong. What am I looking for? Endlessly spiraling, she said. Endlessly looking. For what?
[ He's mumbling the words even as he stands there with his forehead still pressed to hers. ]
Light's on the desk. It's light on the desk. Why is it light on the desk? One light can't break through the darkness. But two lights... two lights might be able to do it. The guiding star. The receiver. The writer who lost the light. Can they do it?
[ That's enough. She's talking to you.
It takes a great concerted effort, and Alan has to briefly clamp his lips shut to halt the seemingly endless flow of words that came from who knows where. Was he responding to the flood of words from Polaris? Was that even a good thing? Did it accomplish anything?
His eyes shift again, and once more, gray ones lock onto green. ]
Jesse. [ His tone is clearer now, not drowned out by the waves from his own mind. Something else has shifted. Am I awake?
Jesse says the quoted line, a line that sets off a bell somewhere in Alan's mind. A few seconds pass, then a minute, followed by another minute. Alan remains silent, but slowly... very slowly, a smile blooms across his face. ]
A miracle illuminated.
[ Maybe he had brushed off the words once before. He wasn't brushing them off now. ]
A miracle... A miracle. [ He presses his forehead against hers yet again. ] A miracle like you? [ And like Polaris. ]
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He holds onto her tighter. He's drowning. Slipping. Lost. I can't be lost. They're here. Why isn't this working? The voices... the voices won't stop! Why won't they stop? Why-
Alan's eyes have gone unfocused again as he drifts in the waves. He's always drifting, then coming back in, then drifting again. When will this end? Why don't the words end? I know these words. Do I know those words? Did I write them? Did I say them? What good are those words? I'm still here. I'm still here, still drowning. Still lost. Let me eat the words. Get new words.
Why doesn't she have new words? I need to write new words.
... But there's no words left. All the words are gone. Where did they go?
Alan's eyes refocus and he leans against Jesse more. No, he practically melts against her, all resistance and tension dissolving away, leaving him unable to stay upright. His eyes don't shift out of focus again, but this time, his mouth moves and words sound aloud, echoing around the room even as the lights on the desk grow brighter. They're growing brighter even as Alan's spiral continues, and even the eyes of the owl above the desk seem to shine a little bit more than usual. ]
Spiraling, circling the drain. The drain's a spiral. Makes a spiral. Down you go, to the lake. To the ocean. It's all water, isn't it? All water leads to more water. What am I saying? I've never said these words before. It's new words, but the words are wrong. What am I looking for? Endlessly spiraling, she said. Endlessly looking. For what?
[ He's mumbling the words even as he stands there with his forehead still pressed to hers. ]
Light's on the desk. It's light on the desk. Why is it light on the desk? One light can't break through the darkness. But two lights... two lights might be able to do it. The guiding star. The receiver. The writer who lost the light. Can they do it?
[ That's enough. She's talking to you.
It takes a great concerted effort, and Alan has to briefly clamp his lips shut to halt the seemingly endless flow of words that came from who knows where. Was he responding to the flood of words from Polaris? Was that even a good thing? Did it accomplish anything?
His eyes shift again, and once more, gray ones lock onto green. ]
Jesse. [ His tone is clearer now, not drowned out by the waves from his own mind. Something else has shifted. Am I awake?
Jesse says the quoted line, a line that sets off a bell somewhere in Alan's mind. A few seconds pass, then a minute, followed by another minute. Alan remains silent, but slowly... very slowly, a smile blooms across his face. ]
A miracle illuminated.
[ Maybe he had brushed off the words once before. He wasn't brushing them off now. ]
A miracle... A miracle. [ He presses his forehead against hers yet again. ] A miracle like you? [ And like Polaris. ]