[ If Alan ever had a moment of wanting to give up, it would be now. Not because he wants to; he wants to come home. He wants to bring this story to its conclusion, to set everyone who's swept up in it free... to set himself free.
But now, more than any other time before this, Alan's tired. Beyond exhausted. He knows he can't stop, can't lie down for long, or the Dark Presence will sense an opportunity and take it. But he's fallen hard this time, and getting back up seems like something impossible.
But where he can't get up, he knows Jesse can. Not Jesse the Director. That's not who he needs, although that's what he thought he needed at first. No, he needs Jesse, the girl from Ordinary. Actually, in Alan's mind, the two are the same. Two sides of the same coin. They're one, the Director and the girl. Maybe Jesse doesn't think so; maybe she can't see it, but Alan believes he can.
Jesse is strong. She doesn't give up. She's told him that. But he sees it now, maybe because he can't see his own strength anymore. Can't feel it anymore. But thinking about Jesse's strength isn't why he asked her to stop. Why he asked for her to come back.
For some reason that probably makes no sense, he feels the need to tell her what he's seen. How he feels about her. His observations. It might not seem important, but if he washes out again, he might lose these thoughts. Lose himself. They won't be there if the Dark Presence steals him away again.
He almost smiles a ghost of a smile when he thinks he sees her walls come down, revealing just Jesse, with her green eyes and fiery red hair. It takes some time for her to look back up at him, but when she does, he immediately locks eyes with hers. Oh, he loves her so much. He knows it, and he's reminded of it every time he sees her. The smile doesn't quite reach his face, but it's in his eyes. He's tired, but it's still there.
His words are halting, and sometimes he has to stop, but he forces himself to keep going. ]
You... you need to know something. [ If it wasn't important, he wouldn't force himself to speak. No, he has to say this before he loses his chance. ]
I wanted to see you as... as you. Because you're strong. You don't need the name Director to be strong. [ He pauses to catch his breath, knowing she might tell him not to talk, to not stress his already hoarse voice further. But he can't stop. ]
It's like I'm seeing you. Finally. For the first time. [ His breath hitches again, but he keeps pushing forward. He's not done, not yet. ] You're beautiful, and- and I love you.
[ Again he tries to smile for her, to hopefully make her smile too, even if there's nothing really they should be smiling about.
A part of him hopes that telling her this will ease the rest of what he has to say. She might not like it, but it's just how it has to be. ]
Jesse, you know I can't- I can't stop. There's no time. [ That look of exhaustion replaces the smile that was showing in his eyes. ] Stopping gives the darkness an opening, and it's already had- It's had too many.
[ He feels himself growing breathless then; he's talking too much and it's draining him more. ]
I have to- I have to keep writing.
[ He falls silent then finally, needing to stop to catch his breath.
Maybe that's how she can help: by propping me up so I can write. I have to write. I have to find the ending. ]
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But now, more than any other time before this, Alan's tired. Beyond exhausted. He knows he can't stop, can't lie down for long, or the Dark Presence will sense an opportunity and take it. But he's fallen hard this time, and getting back up seems like something impossible.
But where he can't get up, he knows Jesse can. Not Jesse the Director. That's not who he needs, although that's what he thought he needed at first. No, he needs Jesse, the girl from Ordinary. Actually, in Alan's mind, the two are the same. Two sides of the same coin. They're one, the Director and the girl. Maybe Jesse doesn't think so; maybe she can't see it, but Alan believes he can.
Jesse is strong. She doesn't give up. She's told him that. But he sees it now, maybe because he can't see his own strength anymore. Can't feel it anymore. But thinking about Jesse's strength isn't why he asked her to stop. Why he asked for her to come back.
For some reason that probably makes no sense, he feels the need to tell her what he's seen. How he feels about her. His observations. It might not seem important, but if he washes out again, he might lose these thoughts. Lose himself. They won't be there if the Dark Presence steals him away again.
He almost smiles a ghost of a smile when he thinks he sees her walls come down, revealing just Jesse, with her green eyes and fiery red hair. It takes some time for her to look back up at him, but when she does, he immediately locks eyes with hers. Oh, he loves her so much. He knows it, and he's reminded of it every time he sees her. The smile doesn't quite reach his face, but it's in his eyes. He's tired, but it's still there.
His words are halting, and sometimes he has to stop, but he forces himself to keep going. ]
You... you need to know something. [ If it wasn't important, he wouldn't force himself to speak. No, he has to say this before he loses his chance. ]
I wanted to see you as... as you. Because you're strong. You don't need the name Director to be strong. [ He pauses to catch his breath, knowing she might tell him not to talk, to not stress his already hoarse voice further. But he can't stop. ]
It's like I'm seeing you. Finally. For the first time. [ His breath hitches again, but he keeps pushing forward. He's not done, not yet. ] You're beautiful, and- and I love you.
[ Again he tries to smile for her, to hopefully make her smile too, even if there's nothing really they should be smiling about.
A part of him hopes that telling her this will ease the rest of what he has to say. She might not like it, but it's just how it has to be. ]
Jesse, you know I can't- I can't stop. There's no time. [ That look of exhaustion replaces the smile that was showing in his eyes. ] Stopping gives the darkness an opening, and it's already had- It's had too many.
[ He feels himself growing breathless then; he's talking too much and it's draining him more. ]
I have to- I have to keep writing.
[ He falls silent then finally, needing to stop to catch his breath.
Maybe that's how she can help: by propping me up so I can write. I have to write. I have to find the ending. ]