crazyisinevitable: (0104)
Alan Wake ([personal profile] crazyisinevitable) wrote in [community profile] synthneon 2023-12-04 10:01 am (UTC)

[ Is this what being awake feels like? It doesn't feel any different. Is the Dark Presence really gone? Gone from me, at least? It'll never be really gone, not until we find a way to end this. Yes, I said we. I can't do it alone. Maybe I never could.

If Alan can't speak aloud without straining his voice, at least he can still think. But even thinking feeds into his exhaustion. No, all he really wants to do, for as much time as he can spare, is just rest. Not talk, although he has thinks he would say if he had the energy to talk. Not think, because all he does is think. He needs to write, and that can't wait. But how can he write if he can't even stand? Jesse could sit beside him so he doesn't fall over, but could he even use the typewriter or a pen?

And in all honesty, he wouldn't mind going back to how they were: kissing, talking, being together. But were they really together if the Dark Presence was lurking the whole time? Can we be together now? If I can just pull myself together...?

That is one of Alan's many fears: that Jesse will grow tired of this constant back-and-forth like the pendulum of a clock. When the pendulum swings one way, Alan might be present. But when it swings the other way, he could be gone. Back and forth, again and again. Who would put up with such a thing?

Maybe he's never told her, and maybe he should, but her touches help, even the small ones. He feels her rubbing his back, and it is comforting. This relationship is uneven, in Alan's mind. Jesse's helped him so many times, tried to comfort him so many times even as she insists she's not good at it. What has he done to comfort her? Not enough. Not nearly enough.

He falls against her, as his body finally gives in; he finally stops trying to fight off the need to just lie down, to just stop for a minute. If Jesse wasn't here, he wouldn't dare consider stopping to rest. If it was anyone else but Jesse, he wouldn't consider it, wouldn't even attempt it. The combination of Jesse and Polaris makes Alan feel safe, as safe as he can when Darkness is lurking just waiting for an opportunity. Maybe he shouldn't feel safe; maybe he shouldn't trust Polaris as much as he does. But why wouldn't he trust her? Jesse trusts her, and that's enough for him.

He wouldn't put himself literally in her hands if he didn't trust her. If he didn't trust Polaris, the guiding star.

He feels Jesse pulling him down to the floor alongside her, and the only thought that comes to mind is a feeling of relief that the floor is sturdy. It's a strange thought, maybe, but when Alan's own foundation is hardly a foundation at all, even a hardwood floor can be a source of relief. The writer's room might be part of his own personal prison, but at least it's solid. It's a small comfort.

Maybe he knew all along that he wanted to lie on the floor with his head in her lap. But it's where he ends up, and he doesn't seem interested in moving once he's there. The only movement he does make is to let his head turn to the side. Or maybe he just lacks the strength to hold it in place.

Finally still, Alan's eyes slide closed. He's not sleeping, as sleep isn't a concept in this place, but he's just allowing his eyes to rest. He feels everything Jesse does, every touch that she places on him, including the way her hand shakes. He opens his eyes briefly, and a look of tired knowing slides into them. Knowing what, he's not entirely sure, but he just wants her to know that it didn't go unnoticed. A look of apology forms then as well, as if saying without words that he's sorry for putting her through yet another difficult moment. Maybe all of their times together will be nothing but difficult moments. Maybe all he'll do as long as they're together is apologize for causing her trouble. He'd do anything to keep her from leaving.

Instinctively, as if reacting to those thoughts, he nestles his head a little further into her lap, not to the point of causing discomfort or annoyance. He just wishes to be a little closer to her. To feel her. To be assured she's still there.

Then, he feels her hand cover his, resting on top of his own, and again, out of instinct and trust that comes from having gone through so much with her (loop after loop, a meeting in a motel, and now this...), his fingers curl against hers, trying to find the spaces between them to slide into. It just feels right, when so much around him feels wrong. ]

Post a comment in response:

This account has disabled anonymous posting.
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
No Subject Icon Selected
More info about formatting