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synthneon2023-11-01 01:57 am
outlierdirector) wrote in synthneon2023-11-01 01:57 am
oceanview || ❝ i must guide my love through the night. ❞
I cannot feel her by my side
Even in this placе inside my mind
no subject
Gone from the story, despite his efforts to write her back in. Or just... gone. Dead. Out of his reach forever, never to return. I promised. I promised I'd put us back in. Jesse, I promised.
But Jesse's here, she's alive and talking to him, and arguing with the men in the cell beside his. She's alive, but even as she slides the cuffs onto his wrists that weigh him down and make him feel like he's being pulled down once more, and even as she guides him down the hall and eventually removes the cuffs, he knows he won't believe it until he can touch her himself.
But before he can do that, as he sits on the couch in front of her, he draws his arms back in, wrapping themselves around his torso in what looks like a protective posture. But the truth is, everything aches. His body aches, and even though the cuffs around his wrists are gone, his arms ache too now.
Still, even though everything seems to be protesting and hurting all at once, a great weight has fallen from Alan's shoulders. Jesse's alive. She's here, and as safe as it's possible to be in the middle of this neverending nightmare. She's not dead; he didn't fail to keep his promise. Never mind that Jesse being dead wouldn't mean Alan didn't live up to his word. But if she had died, he would have seen it that way, and nothing would make him change his mind.
He's done so much that brought harm to others, and if the words of Ilmo and Jaakko are anything to go by, he's fucked things up. A lot. But if there's one thing he hasn't done, it's get her killed again. She's not safe, not yet. None of them are. But Alan knows now that he would do just about anything (short of writing her out of the story, since that would be breaking his promise) to keep her alive.
But enough of that; he's been lost in his own head for long enough. Jesse's here and he wants to talk to her. He wants to hear her voice again. It takes a monumental effort to pull himself out of his thoughts, but he manages it eventually. ]
It has. It's been too long. [ And too much has happened. He unwinds one arm from around himself to pinch the flannel again, pinching his wrist beneath the fabric. He needs to stay grounded, or this conversation won't be a conversation.
He startles a bit when he sees her move, shifting until she's sitting upright. Sudden movements make him jumpy, but he manages to start breathing again when he realizes it's still her, not a Taken. He doesn't want to think about her and the Taken in the same sentence. ]
The- The Director likes reports, right? Or should like them. I- I have other answers. New ones. [ Ones I hate. Ones she should hate. But she should know them, shouldn't she? He doesn't want to talk about them. He doesn't want to report what's happened in this loop. He just wants to talk, like she does. Talk, and hold her hand, and be together before the horror story tears them apart again. Because it will. It's hungry. Wild. Angry, even. And there's only so much Alan can do to fight that. ]
What- What did you want to talk about? [ His grey eyes search to meet her green ones, but her gaze is turned downwards and he can't connect with it. I don't want to lose her again. I hope that I haven't lost her. ]
no subject
Her jaw slides to the side as he keeps talking. She actually hates reports--namely writing them. Reading them is something she's just used to doing after finding a seemingly endless amount through her combing of the Oldest House. He isn't wrong in the fact she should be asking questions. She should be trying to learn what has happened since they last met. But... not now, and not only because she doesn't want to. Everything about his state of being says those questions and answers are better left for later.
Maybe once he's eaten, and slept, and not covered in blood.
« How long is "too long"? Has he--has it been long enough where he's moved on...? »
She hopes not. The thought alone makes her own heart beat painfully and her hands shake slightly. Her fists curl then uncurl. There's only one way to find out. Even if she's afraid of the truth.
« New answers can wait until the morning. When the sun is out and he's calmer. We need to get through the night--all of us here. Even the assholes in the cell. »
Jesse slowly moves this time. Both hands raise, one gently resting against the one pinching himself, and the other resting on top of the pinched wrist. It takes another moment before she brings herself to raise her eyes this time. Her green ones meet his gray ones, and it's clear she's timid. Afraid he might pull his hands away and ask what the hell she's doing.
« He said he forgets. The Dark Presence takes parts of him away and his memory away. What if--what if he forgot about us? So he couldn't put us back in the story. Or, maybe he really has moved on. »
Either way, they should try again. From the start.
She leans forward slightly. Just enough to be tipping into his space, but not far enough where he should feel cornered by her. ]
Alan. [ Her hands gently squeeze his hand and wrist. ] Are you okay? You're here in Bright Falls. With me.
[ In Bright Falls with Jesse, not just the Director.
She knows he isn't and it's obvious. Still, it might help him transition from the idea of interviews. Just the two of them--however they stand now after it's been so long for him. ]
no subject
Eventually, he stops talking, and silence falls in the room. It's quiet. Too quiet, even though there's muffled voices outside the room. Alan doesn't know what to do when it's quiet. In the Dark Place, there's always noise. The Taken stomp around. Some of them shuffle. They all say his name. The wind rattles what's left of the leaves in the trees. Car brakes screech, but who's driving the car? He hasn't explained this aspect of the Dark Place because it hasn't come up, but it's not a forest. It's a city. Dark, haunted, possessed... Neon lights glow in the distance, creating an eerie sort of backdrop. It's the perfect haunted playground for the Taken, on the hunt for a writer who's found himself alone.
.... So alone.
Alan's breath catches in his chest, coinciding with Jesse moving slowly, lifting her hands and placing one against both of his own. I'm not alone? Is this real? It's not a dream? In the relative silence, Alan's slow exhaled breaths can be heard as he tries to gather himself. Jesse's hands feel warm against his skin; figures in dreams don't feel warm, do they? Maybe it's in his head, but he feels as though he hasn't felt warm in years. Maybe longer than years. She's here. She's real.
He draws another shaky breath and he shudders involuntarily as he finally, finally allows himself to accept that she's really here. Oh, God, I hope she's really here. Please let this be real. Even if it's a loop, things that happen in the loops still feel real. Terrifyingly so, sometimes. But Alan wants this one thing to be real.
He sees her lean in closer, and feels her hands squeezing his. ] ... Jesse. [ Jesse. ] I'm- [ I'm not okay, but she knows that. She doesn't need to hear again how completely messed up I am. ] Great. Peachy. Just peachy.
[ I've never said "peachy" before. This place really is messing with my head. It's worse than I thought. ]
What about you? Are you okay? I- [ Should I tell her? Yeah, I'm going to tell her. I don't know why, but I think she needs to know that something's different, if she hasn't picked it up already. ]
I looked for you. Tried to find you. But I couldn't, for some reason. [ I thought you might be dead. I didn't want to think it, but- It was there.
And now it's Alan's turn for his gaze to lower, gray eyes shifting away as fear tugs at him again. He pauses for a second, and then he adds: ]
I did what you wanted me to. [ It's there. It's in the story. Edited in. It just has to play out that way now. Like scenes from a movie. We just have to get to that point. Wait, I have something. I was keeping it for her.
It's folded up in the pocket of his jeans, and he has to briefly pull one hand away from Jesse in order to get it. It's wrinkled and one corner has a tear in it, but the writing on it can still be seen. It's a typewritten page, but what makes it more notable is the deep pen scratch marks that are all over it.
The scratch marks aren't orderly at all; they're erratic and uneven, and it looks as though it was done in a rush. Alan's scrawled writing is equally rushed and uneven, but the words can still be read without too much trouble. There's certain parts where the letters look like they were written with a shaking hand and a wobbling pen, as if the writer was taken by a fit of... of something. There's even a hole in the page where it looks like the point of the pen tore through the paper with the force with which it was written on.
Names, words, events... they're all scribbled down on the edited page. It's not a neat job by any means, but Alan had to take something that was written and alter it. He had to make it fit even though he was changing it. Expanding on it but still leaving it vague enough that something sinister didn't lash out in rage.
Whatever the case, Alan knows Jesse should see the page and how he changed it in order to fulfill the promise he made. ]
It's here if you want to see it. [ Well, it's not everything in entirety, as it's just one page out of many, but he hopes she realizes that there's more pages just like this one. This one is relevant because it's about them. He holds it out to her, wondering if she'll take it. ]
no subject
« He's not drifting away. He's still here, but, not fully. More like he's distracted instead of wandering. In his head, I mean. »
Then, he speaks again. Her gaze lifts once more at the sound of her name and not formal title or surname. Her eyes light up ever so slightly, but, she still tries to temper her reaction.
Just in case.
Her eyebrows knit together. Peachy? ]
"Peachy." [ The corners of her lips tug, but the humor tone is more in her eyes. Of course, he doesn't mean it, but maybe seeing a lighter reaction will help. ] Maybe I'm a bit more than peachy. But, not much more.
[ Her fingers curl around his hand and wrist. Gently. Anything more than that might set him off. ]
I imagine Casey and Anderson wouldn't let you get far. [ Her gaze softens. ] We were held up at our monitoring site. We never got the tip that the FBI found you. Otherwise, we would of been here sooner.
[ Jesse drops her gaze to look over him again. Dried blood, some mud, signs of a fight. The Cult tried to do a number on him. Or, maybe he did a number to the Cult. Both things are possible even if she wants to believe Alan couldn't bring himself to do... whatever happened to cause so much blood.
What he says next stops her in her metaphoric tracks. Everything she was thinking comes to a sudden stop in her mind. Her eyes widen by a fraction and eyebrows raise. Breath catches in her throat. A small shake is in her hands. ]
...You did? [ Small, quiet, but not disbelief. Surprised.
Green eyes fall from his as she watches every movement his hand makes. She has seen his manuscript pages before. They match the page in the Panopticon. Same size, shape, even font face of the Typewritten Page. Some have been scratched out, or blocked by dried black liquid. This page, however, isn't exactly like the others.
It's torn. Violently scratched out. A hole from a pen tip.
Jesse starts at the top of the page and slowly makes her way down the page. Something is off about the way the unscratched out parts flow. It... doesn't seem like Alan's voice. The written in parts? Yes, those sound like Alan. Even the arrows pointing to when the written parts should be taking place. Those sound like the best selling author she knows and loves.
Her eyes move to the top of the page and read it once more. She can feel how the story is trying to alter things around them. The nudge--just like before--being there to try and get her to act in a way it wants her to. Except, this time, Jesse knows it's not the story. At least, not in the same way that it was for dealing with Hartman. The story is changing because of what they wanted. They demanded this of the story. The one thing that can be theirs despite all the horror going on.
She raises one shaking hand to touch the hand written words. She's never seen Alan's physical writing before--never touched it. It's real, and he really did write it in. Like he said he would. He kept his promise. Did he want to? Was he upset at having to do it, and that's why the page has a hole in it and uneven writing?
« He really wrote it. Like he said he would. Despite everything... he... when was the last time someone kept their promise to me? The last time outside of orders and their job. A promise to me. » ]
...you really did...
[ Most people might say it's obvious he did, as the evidence is in her hands. Or maybe that she is overreacting. But to Jesse Faden? It's proof of someone to believe. Someone who will keep their word in a world that never took hers seriously. Someone to trust with those things that are closest to her, underneath the walls and levels of control.
« Alan really did it. »
She blinks and inhales unevenly. Another blink and she knows it's unstoppable now. That last guarded wall finally comes down. Her vision clouds, and she can feel the warm water start to roll down her cheeks. No tucking her head to the side, darting her eyes away. She keeps them on the page in her trembling hands.
Perhaps, for the first time, Alan Wake is seeing that ordinary woman buried behind walls and control. The girl who played in a dump and lost everything over the span of a few weeks. Who became a woman filled with distrust and paranoia, unable to make a connection like this to anyone. ]
no subject
Yeah. Peachy. It's a nice-sounding word, isn't it? [ Better than saying I'm in over my head and just want to run away screaming from everything that looks at me funny.
The gentle touch at his hand and wrist sets off a quiet alarm bell, but Alan manages to suppress it, just barely. He can trust Jesse not to hurt him. He knows that. It's in the pages that he wrote. Scratched out what was written, wrote something else. I trust what I read on these pages. I think. I can hardly trust those anymore. But this is something I trust. I have to be able to trust it. Trust her.
She asks if he did, and he nods. Slowly, but definitively. ] It- It wasn't easy. [ His voice catches and wavers, and he shudders again as a memory flashes into his mind. He hears the narration in his head, but he feels his mouth move as well, echoing the words out loud. Slowly. Hesitantly. Sometimes his voice shakes, but the words just keep on coming.
He's alone in the room with the two ornately decorated windows. He's staring at the windows, looking up at the darkened, cloudy sky. It's always dark here. Cloudy. Stormy.
Wake turned from the window to face the desk. It was empty except for the typewriter, just as he'd left it when he turned to look out the window. But there was a ripple, a flash, and the image changed. A coat hung on the chair as if it had been flung there. Wake was back at the doorway and didn't remember how he'd gotten there.
He approached the desk, one step at a time. His eyes widened. A manuscript sat on the desk. "Return", by Alan Wake. He hadn't written it. Hadn't even started. But it sat there still, looking at him. Staring at him as if the words on the page turned into threatening, mocking eyes. He grabbed the stack of papers and began to read. As he read, he spread the pages out over the desk. There was barely enough room.
No. No, this was wrong. Wake felt a spike of horror. The spikes kept coming. This wasn't the story he wanted. It was a horror story, which made sense. The story had to have a horror element for it to be functional, but this was taking it too far. He rejected the ideas written on the pages. But he hadn't started making his own edits yet. Not until he reached another page about midway through the story.
"No. No, you're not doing that to her. I- I refuse to accept it." Wake's words echoed in the silence of the room. He took hold of a pen that had been placed beside the typewriter. He began to scratch out the words. Slowly at first, but increasing in speed and fever until his movements became wild. Erratic. Uncontrolled. Sometimes a primal scream echoed in the room as Wake's sense of reason and rationality slipped. "I have to change the story. This can't be the story! I promised her I'd..."
The pen stabbed through the paper with the force of Wake's hand as he scratched things out. Crossed out words. Rewrote the words. Drew arrows pointing to where the edits were supposed to go. Had he done this before? Would he do this again with other pages? The manuscript was there. Whole. Complete. Evil. Part of Wake knew he'd have to go through the whole thing, reading it, changing it. Feverishly scratching out the things that were wrong. But for now... for now, it was just this page. This chapter.
He scratched out more words. Wrote other words. Scratching. Writing. Rewriting.
The scene rippled again and the page sat on the desktop. Wake was slumped in the chair. Deflated. Scared, to a degree. But he'd done it. He'd kept his promise.
"I really did it."
Alan's spoken words from the narration echo Jesse's thoughts, but Alan says no more, having reached the end of his own narration. Gray eyes focus once more, zeroing in on her, and he watches her reactions. Wonders how she might feel knowing that he did what he could to fulfill his promise. The story fought him along the way, but he fought back, tapping into an already depleted reservoir of will. The reservoir was emptying, but maybe... maybe it could fill back up again, at least a little.
He watches Jesse, sees the wave of warm tears rolling down her cheeks. Tears because of what he wrote? No, this isn't just because of some scratched in words on a page. It's more than that. Meaningful. Significant. She's letting go. Letting her wall down.
He reaches for her, hands reaching to cover her hands, ignoring the manuscript page she still holds. Not ignoring it. It's important. It's them. But he touches her hands, fingers curling against her hands and the manuscript page both. He squeezes her hands. I've always liked her hands. The thought forms unbidden, but he knows it's true.
With his right hand, he reaches up to touch her face now. Slowly, still hesitantly, but he doesn't wait to complete this action. Fingers brush against her cheeks, wiping away her tears. I- I love her. It's impossible, it shouldn't be happening, but- I love her. Everything about her.
His fingers slide from her cheeks to touch her hair, lightly curling in the strands. But he doesn't push her, doesn't press her to say anything until she's ready. It can just be them in this moment, with no words needed until they're ready to say them. ]
no subject
She is about to comment on their joking peach thread of conversation, but then he keeps speaking. Not even speaking--narrating. Like what he would say over the Hotline. It doesn't feel strange, as she's certain he has done this before. Narrated through himself to her. Last time... she was angry, hurt, heartbroken. That's not how this is.
Her eyes remain on the manuscript in her hands, but her whole attention is focused on what he is saying. Her expression only shifts slightly as he describes the room he "lives" in at the Dark Place. The manuscript that was finished but he didn't write. A small frown tugs on her face as her gaze moves over the scratched out parts of the manuscript.
« "Not doing that to her"? What happened? Was it... was it worse than what you told me happened the first time? »
It only matters in the scope that Alan felt it had to change. Not only because of their promise, but something more. She's not sure how she knows. Instincts, maybe. Something happened that she's certain he'd never describe.
« If he didn't write it ... who did? We will have to ask in the morning. I... I dont think he'd say anything right now. »
Jesse inhales sharply to try and pull herself together. Her hands still tremble underneath his. Them. It's not as impossible for her to believe. She fought the story and even Alan in her own way to keep what memories she could. Emotions if nothing else. Polaris helped and continues to help her. They may be constrained by the story, but she will never be trapped by it. She'll find a way by working within it to get what she wants.
Which is exactly what he has done, and the edits on the page prove it.
"An understanding", the manuscript page says.
She supposes it's one way to describe... well, them. A vague way of doing it, but, maybe that can give them enough leeway and control to make it work in the story. She likes to believe that by now she understands how Alan thinks.
She certainly knows his writing voice.
Jesse leans her cheek into his hand as he brushes the tears away. There's no debate or confusion in her mind that she loves him. It's why she had been trying to find him the moment they arrived in Bright Falls. It has to be different for him though. He has to live the story out without the knowledge has while writing it.
« And... we loop around to the beginning again somehow. Don't we? »
One hand finally lets go of the manuscript page to raise and rest against the hand now in her hair. The tactical gloves are fingerless, letting her feel the dirt, mud, blood all mixed on his fingers. She doesn't pull away or shy away. Why would she? It's Alan... she loves him. ]
Peachy. It is a nice-sounding word. [ Jesse smiles, despite the tears, bringing her eyes to meet his. ] Maybe I'm just peachy too after all.
[ Her fingers curl, the tips sliding between each of his knuckles in an odd way to hold his hand. The best way she can describe him at the moment is rediscovering them. She doesn't want to get in the middle of it. What if she does and it stops it from coming true? ]
Alan. [ She waits until his full attention is on her. Then, she leans forward once more into his space. Just enough to communicate her intentions. Anymore than that and he might jump out of his skin. ] ...thank you. For... this--[ she gently moves the manuscript in her hand back and forth, ]--for us. Again.
[ She blinks and another wave of tears rolls down her cheeks.
« He may never understand just how grateful I am. How much it means to me... how much I love him. Maybe he'll never really know. But, he still has to at least hear it. » ]
no subject
He'd much rather talk about peaches and make jokes about feeling peachy than let her see what he's become, what the Dark Place has turned him into. But to hide that from her would be hiding the truth, and he's resolved to not do that, not if he can help it. She needs to see him as he is, to see the good parts and the bad. And maybe the bad outweighs the good. It certainly feels that way when his sanity slips and he pushes the typewriter off the desk and screams.
That typewriter always comes back, no matter how many times he picks it up and throws it across the room.
Now, he simply sits and waits. Waits for her to pull away from him, to move his hands away from her: hands that he's forgotten are covered in blood, dirt, and who knows what else. She's leaning into his touch, and her hand is touching his. But she'll pull away soon, he thinks. She's seen the damage that's been done to him, heard him relate it in his own words. It's surely too much for anyone, even too much for her, who's seen and lived through so much.
His head lowers and a shaky breath escapes him as he waits.
"Maybe I'm just too peachy after all."
Alan's head lifts when he hears Jesse say those words, and he looks up just in time to see her smiling at him. Her smile softens her face and brightens her eyes. He's seen it happen before, but it feels like he's seeing it now for the first time in years. The hand that she's touching trembles in response to her fingers sliding between each knuckle. This moment is important. It feels like the beginning of a chapter, but a chapter they've read before. A scene they've acted out before. But it's not acting when they really mean everything they're doing. It's a return, of sorts. A rediscovery. A rediscovery of each other.
She says his name, and he looks at her, gray eyes sliding to meet with hers. She leans forward and he feels himself doing the same, her magnetism drawing him in, in spite of his lingering fears. It's not her he's afraid of. He couldn't be afraid of her, not now. Not when they've shared so much.
But he freezes, mind briefly going blank as everything but the words she's just said fades away.
...thank you. For... this-- for us.
Then Alan's eyes cloud over and a memory surfaces, briefly taking him away from this moment, from Jesse. Frown lines appear around his mouth and eyes as he remembers some things that happened and some that his mind has taken and twisted into an artificial recollection of what really happened.
"Did you write my family into this story? Fix it, you son of a- You asshole. You will fix it. My daughter. My husband. How dare you write them into your twisted hellhole of a story? You selfish asshole."
More echoes reverberate around the chambers of Alan's mind.
"If you won't put him down, let us out and we'll put a bullet between his eyes. We'll end both him and this nightmare in one shot. It should have been done a long time ago. Rotten, useless, arrogant writer. This world's better off without him in it."
Another echo sounds then, louder than the last two that made Alan feel like he was sinking again, the waves sweeping over his head, pulling him down into a dark embrace.
"Alan, thank you for this. For us. Again." It's Jesse's voice. Sounding grateful. Warm. Kind, to Alan's ears. And dare he hope for it, full of love. For him. The harsh voices with their cruel words fade away, and all that's left are the echoes of Jesse's words of thanks. He wants to hold onto those words forever. There's more power contained in those simple words than anything the Dark Presence or even his own mind could throw at him. And a lot of words have been thrown his way; but Jesse's words overpower all of them.
As the fog recedes from his eyes, he doesn't speak because he doesn't trust his own voice to not betray the depths of fear and love and wonder that he's feeling because of the gift that Jesse's just given him. He slowly, very slowly leans forward until his forehead is pressed lightly against hers. It's a familiar gesture, and a familiar posture to be in. They've done it before. He doesn't know how many times, but he knows it's something they've done.
He just wants to stay like this for a little while, because with her here, the darkness both outside (as the sun has set) and inside Alan's own mind doesn't trouble him as much. He can breathe a little easier knowing that she's here, loving him, but more importantly, safe. As safe as anyone can be when safety isn't ever a guarantee. ]
no subject
Now, she needs to reach into the waters and offer her hand to him to grab. Her other hand anchoring her with her feet, pulling him back to the surface. Pulling him up to breathe--to see the sun. Home. A reality may be like shifting waves, and a tide that erodes him. That's the thing--it's a reality. Their reality isn't like that. It's home.
She gently moves his hand from his hair and turns it in her grasp. Fingers slide between his comfortably in a sense of ease. None of this is new for her. His mind may see it as a return, but to her, it's a reunion. A coming back together after a long time. Maybe it hasn't been as long for her as it has him, but, it has definitely been long enough.
His forehead gently rests against hers.
Finally.
Jesse immediately presses hers against his with her hand squeezing his securely. Her heart almost flutters. Will that feeling ever go away? She hopes not. She wants to selfishly keep all of this. The dangers can ebb and flow, but this is what she wanted to stay. This special connection to someone like her. That person who has seen behind the poster and knows the world of horrors and wonders, but won't leave her alone as they run screaming from the truth.
« Maybe he will one day he will leave screaming and he'll never want to come back to me. Us. We'll be the only people in that room with the poster torn down. »
She hopes not.
Her other hand pulls the manuscript closer, resting it against her. Almost as if she's trying to protect it. They're worth protecting, even if the two of them have disagreed and even fought about it.
『 Wake had to escape. Write his escape. He was already out. He wanted to make it true. Wake needed a hero. 』
The Hotline call echos in her mind for a brief moment. She can see the faint outline of the man on the typewriter--black and white. Her eyes close for that small span of seconds. She wonders if that is still the case, or if the role of the hero has gone to someone else. That'd be fine with her. As long as they remain in the story? Someone else can be the hero or heroine. She has people here under her she needs to help. Agents, scientists, the people of Bright Falls.
Alan Wake himself.
« He called me here, and here I am. »
The fading light outside hasn't escaped her notice. Steve and Estevez will be done with their assigned tasks soon. She'll need to get to work and bring him in on the plan. For now? She leans into their touch just a bit more. ]
Hi, Alan. [ Another small press forward is given to their foreheads to make sure his attention on her. ] Welcome back.
no subject
The things that used to pull him back up don't work anymore, or at least, not as well. Jesse's touch could pull him back. Her calling to him could pull him up. But when the waves are crashing on the shore of his mind, the water soaking him and chilling his skin, he can't hear. Can't feel. Can't see. I'm drowning. I'm lost.
Home is an illusion. Their reality is an illusion too. What's real anymore? Is Parliament Tower looming over the darkened city real? Parliament Tower... why do I know that name? Alan's memories wash in and out with the tide; sometimes he remembers things from their reality, from home, and sometimes he doesn't.
Who is the woman with the red hair and green eyes that catch the light and flash brightly? I know her. She's important. Jesse Faden. You- you can't take her from me. The Dark Presence has taken so much, and Alan is terrified to even think about what will be left when it's done. If it's ever done. Maybe it won't stop until it's taken everything from him and he's no longer the man called Alan Wake.
The sheer horror of that is enough to jolt him, and when he does, he's greeted not by more horror, but the gentle feel of Jesse taking hold of his hand and sliding her fingers in between his. His shoulders drop as the built up tension fades, and his own fingers curl against hers.
Whether it's a return or a reunion, Alan knows one thing, and that's something the dark waves can't tear away from him. He's safe with Jesse. It might be only a feeling in his head, but he feels sheltered when he's with her. Secure. No one can break in and steal him away when she's here, at least not for good. His mind might wander, and he might sink, but he comes back. He returns because she calls him back.
His fingers curl further into her hand and he presses his forehead against hers a little more. It's not enough to be uncomfortable, and it's not going to knock either of them over, but he needs to feel. He doesn't want to lose this either. These feelings. Jesse. She's a part of his life now, even if that life isn't very much of one, not anymore. He wants to wake up next to her every morning and see her there every day. He wants to be there when she comes home at night.
But what good is dreaming when he's still trapped? Still, if all he can do is dream, then he wants to dream about that life with Jesse, even if it never becomes more than a dream.
He sees her pull the manuscript page closer, almost protectively. If she wants to keep it, it's probably safer with her anyway. She might lose it when- if the loop resets, but he has just as much chance of losing it in the Dark Place as she does of losing it to the loops. One of them might as well have it, anyway.
The clouds in his eyes seem to clear, and Jesse's small press pushing their foreheads together further grounds him. ]
Hi, Jesse. [ He manages to smile at her; it's small, and it doesn't quite negate the still scared look in his eyes, but it softens his haunted expression just a little. ] And... thank you.
[ For not giving up on him. For not letting him give up. For coming to find him. The list of things he wants to thank her for is quite long and would take more time than both of them have. ]
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Polaris shifts.
« Okay. If you think it'll help. Do what you think you need to. We need him here if we're going to stop the Dark Presence this time... and I need him here. Even if he doesn't know it. »
She can feel the gentle vibrations in the palm of her hand. Polaris attempts to resonate with that spark inside the Writer. The one that marks him as the Champion of Light to fight the Herald of Darkness. Jesse may not know all the terms, and the terms may be an abstract concept to Polaris, but the resonance knows what makes her powerful. Stronger. Brighter. Deafening. It's a gentle vibration. Nothing that would cause harm or hurt. Just a nudge.
That's something Alan should be used to.
Her smile is small, but eyes sparkle. It's that fond smile she only lets him see. Her way of telling him that she's happy he's there. That she loves him despite whatever his mind may throw at him. ]
Anytime. [ She means it wholeheartedly and entirely. Whenever he needs to be pulled from the waves? She'll be there in someway or shape to do so. ] Can I keep it? Or... or do you need it back to do whatever is you need to do?
[ « If he needs it to help him remember it? That's fine. I've seen it and knows it exists. That's more than enough for me. »
She never forgets what it's like to be close to him, but, it's always different than she remembers. Almost like she can't hold onto the exact emotions and feelings. How intense it feels, how that gravitational pull seems to just ignite. Is it just because of whatever is in him that Polaris reacts to? Is it more? She's still not sure, but whatever the reason, her gaze drops down to his lips for the briefest of moments. She knows they've been close--intimate.
« I want it back. »
Jesse moves the fraction it's needed to ghost her lips across his. A faint touch, enough so he can pull away if it's too much or too soon. He may not remember what they've done together by design. There's really only one way to find out.
Even as she can faintly hear the footsteps beyond the office doors. ]
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This time, things are a little different. Alan's with her, but his mind slips away so much easier now. So much faster than before. Maybe he's not truly with her, like he has one foot out the metaphorical door. Not because he's leaving her or doesn't want to be with her. He wants that more than anything. But the hold that the Dark Place has on him is stronger now. It's pulling at him almost constantly. At least, that's how it feels to him.
His eyes shift immediately to lock on hers as soon as he feels that familiar resonance. That vibration that's unique to Polaris. To Jesse. Alan would know it anywhere. The spark is still inside Alan, but it's muted. Quieter. He can still use light to his advantage, but it's different now. He feels Polaris's resonance and leans into it, but it feels as though something is missing. Maybe it feels different to Polaris and Jesse, but it just feels strange to Alan. Dulled. But perhaps his senses aren't as sharp as they should be. It's hard to hear, feel, and think when dark waves are threatening to pull you under.
She can most likely feel the way he startles when her lips brush against his. It's not the same reaction as before; he's not jumping out of his skin. His heart rate isn't accelerating like a panicked rabbit's. It's not even that he didn't expect it. It's what we had before. I want it back. He unwittingly echoes Jesse's own thoughts, and to him, the thought he's just had is confirmation enough.
He returns the gesture, brushing his lips against hers in return, and after a second's pause, presses them against hers more fully. It's not quite a full kiss, but it's close. As for the footsteps beyond the doors, Alan chooses to ignore them in favor of this moment. ]
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[ The gentle expression remains on her face, but the undertones of fondness change into something else. In a word? Scared. In a word she'd share with everyone else, even to Alan? Worried.
Jesse's attention moves from Polaris back to him as he leans forward into the motion. It doesn't bother her. She expects it, because he always is drawn to Polaris. Just as Polaris is drawn to whatever is--should be--inside him. That spark of Light that makes everything brighter and louder.
« No. No. Something is wrong. I know it. What's wrong? Should you be here more? Am I moving too fast? Should I be more like the Director... or me? Did--did something happen? He said it had been a long time... »
She nearly pulls away the moment she brushes the kiss to his lips, but doesn't at the last moment. He kisses her--just not fully. She returns the gesture, intending to give a full kiss. The movement is slow so he can ease into it. She wants what they had. But, more importantly, she wants him with her.
And, like a scene from a cliche movie, the door opens.
Jesse let's out a small disappointed sigh before turning her head to the door. She stays close so Alan can lean against her. Green eyes land on the Ranger Captain, halfway through the door, looking at the both of them... and seemingly unphased by the scene at all. ]
Control Points are set up like you asked, Faden. Just needs your finishing touch. [ Steve pauses and looks at Alan with a smirk. ] Hey, Wake. Ready to see the boss in action?
Steve... [ Jesse knows her voice should be louder, driven by authority. She's the Director. Instead she just sounds... tired. Worried. Maybe even defensive and protective. ] I'm not sure...
He'll be fine. I'll even take responsibility and watch over him while you do your thing. People might feel better if a ranger is looking over a parautalitarian.
[ Jesse glances down and swallows. Then, she looks back up at Alan with a small frown. ] Would you rather stay here in the office with the lights or come with me?
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Alan feels something inside him begin to shake and quiver as a realization occurs to him: a possible reason why he can't feel the resonance from Polaris like he has before. The connection he has with Polaris isn't like the one Jesse has. He wouldn't dare presume as much. But not being able to feel her when she reaches out feels as though he's losing access to something bright and warm and comforting. And when very little, if anything at all, in the Dark Place is comforting, that loss is monumental.
Not devastating like the severing of the bond between Jesse and Polaris, but it's bad enough in Alan's mind.
They share a brief kiss, and then the footsteps get closer, followed by the opening of the door. Steve enters, and Alan looks up to see him walking in. He's another friendly face, although Alan isn't sure if he can assign the word "friend" to him, when they barely know each other. But Steve has always been kind to him, in a friendly joking kind of way; there's a normality to that that Alan appreciates, and so he does consider him a friend, at least privately.
Control points. It's another term that Alan isn't sure he knows, but a thought rises up in his mind from out of nowhere. Well, not a thought, but an image: Jesse on the ground, hands on the floor. Doing something. Channeling something. Energy? Resonance? He doesn't know if the two are connected. They might be, but he just doesn't have enough information yet.
Steve addresses him and he pulls himself out of his thoughts again. ] Yeah. Ready as I'll ever be, I guess.
[ He quiets again as Steve and Jesse briefly debate having him join them. He understands why Jesse would hesitate, but Steve's response surprises him. He didn't expect the ranger to take responsibility for watching him. He figured if anything, he'd get put right back in the cell next to the two cult leaders while the FBC did their work.
His gaze shifts back to Jesse as she poses a question to him now: would he rather stay here, or go with her? The answer is clear and he gives it almost immediately. It might be light in this room, but he doesn't want to be left alone. ] I want to go with you. If that's okay.
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Maybe the reason is beyond the understanding of humans.
Regardless, Polaris will find a way to reach the Torchbearer. Maybe what their next step does will help.
Jesse glances between the two men as they share a brief exchange. Steve has always been kind to Alan, but, even Jesse can tell Steve must know more than he let's on. He hasn't batted an eye at how their hands are interlocked, how close they are. He didn't even question or ask when Jesse demanded they meet with the rest of the field agents.
« Does he remember the loops too? Did you tell him something? It's not like he's a parautalitarian. How would he be able to remember? »
She blinks at his answer. Anyone else might say she hardly had a reaction, but a slight surprise is in those green eyes. It's clear she's worried--afraid she has made an error in how she's approached it. Scared she isn't helping him, or even worse, can't help him anymore.
Jesse gently brushes her lips against the cheek not covered in mud, dirt, blood. She squeezes his hand. ]
Thank you. [ Even if she hoped their reunion would be closer to how their relationship started... he wrote it back in. Made it real. ] Make sure you stick close to Steve. Just in case.
[ Jesse folds the manuscript page into the pocket of her tactical vest and stands up. Her hand slowly slips from his before moving to the door. Steve opens it all the way and steps aside. Jesse leaves the room, but, Polaris shimmers as if to indicate the way she's gone. The Ranger Captain motions with his head for the Writer to stand and then walk beside him. ]
You walk next to me, don't move out to touch anyone if you can avoid it. Part of the paranoia comes from the fact they've got no idea what you can do but alter reality. [ Steve closes the door behind them and begins escorting Alan back to the front entrance. ] Give them a reason to show you're on our side and they'll be more willing to have you walk around. The Director's word isn't enough after what happened with the previous one. Trench burnt more bridges at the end of the day.
[ Steve holds his hand up to the other agents in the room when they finally arrive. Estevez eyes the pair, especially Alan, but turns her attention to the Director. She stands in the middle of a taped dashed circle surrounded by small array dishes. A field agents nods and motions for Jesse to begin.
She kneels down to the center and closes her eyes.
Steve leans to Alan and lowers his voice. ]
We use Control Points to center everything back at HQ. The Director has to remove any other interference for... classified things to center parts of HQ. We're hoping if Faden can cleanse this area that it'll give us a foothold here. Somewhere your spooky Shadow doesn't control.
[ Estevez looks over her shoulder at the two. ] Does Mr. Wake even have the clearance for this?
Eh, protocols are out the window right now, Estevez. Besides. Faden is what we would call unconventional. An outlier. Best hope for the Buearu so far. [ Steve smirks. ] And, need I remind you, Wake was involved in the AWE of '10. If anyone knows how to fight the Shadow? It'll be him. Better to use him as an asset rather than bait. Don't you think?
Do all rangers have such a smug way of operations?
Only the best ones, Estevez. [ Steve gives a wide grin and the woman rolls her eyes. He looks back at Alan and nods down to Jesse. ] I'm pretty sure you know about the resonance by now, Wake. That's what she's going to use.
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It seems that this part doesn't concern Alan very much, other than being an observer. Knowing Jesse, she's got this under control. He's no use here, not really. But he couldn't stand staying behind alone in that room.
He nods along with Steve's instructions, already resolved to follow them to the letter. He knows he's not welcome here, if the looks Estevez and the other agents are giving him. The last thing he needs to do is cause a scene. ]
I'll stay close. I don't want to cause trouble. [ I've caused enough already as it is. Any one of these agents looks like they'd throw me into a cell and lose the key as soon as they could.
Maybe it's Alan's own paranoia talking, but he can't help but feel a little nervous about standing here with X amount of rangers standing around. He glances sidelong at Steve, and around at the other rangers, hoping their eyes are on Jesse and her work, not on him. He tries to be discreet about pinching his wrist to try and ground himself. Hopefully no one here is jumpy or trigger happy. ]
I see. I think. [ Steve's explanation makes sense to an extent. ] It's like balancing it. Removing the negative energy and making it more balanced. [ That theory is probably way off. This isn't anything close to being Alan's area of expertise. He probably doesn't even have the right to speculate.
He glances at Estevez when she questions his being there. It's fair to ask, as he's not an agent. He's just a writer. A civilian. But Steve mentions Jesse being unconventional, and refers to Alan's involvement back in 2010. Whatever the case, Estevez seems to stand down, if a bit reluctantly.
Steve offers another explanation, this time about how Jesse's going to use the resonance to get the job done. Alan nods in understanding, and just stands by next to the other man, waiting to see how this all plays out. ]
When a Control Point is cleansed, does it stay that way, or does it have to be done again? [ Alan's question earns him a look from Estevez, almost implying that maybe he should shut up and not ask questions about classified things, but it's too late. His question is already out there. ]
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More importantly what Jesse is putting on the line.
A moment passes before Steve begins to answer the question Alan has. His jaw sets, expression turns grim. Giving him a non-classified version wouldn't be difficult to say. It's the events themselves that are hard to say. Alan knows about Polaris. It's kind of hard not to when the Director literally radiates the energy. How much the Writer knows about the Hiss...
Steve glances at Estevez who tilts her head. She doesn't know all the details. They were cut off from the Oldest House. ]
It can be taken over by another energy. Any entity with a resonance. [ The Ranger Captain squares his shoulders as that old military training comes back. Estevez's eyes widen slightly. ] We survived because Faden took the control points back one by one, reclaiming HQ. Her and Polaris.
[ Steve glances down. ] We lost a good amount of people. Not just rangers. We're prepared not to come back from AWEs. There were office workers, scientists, security officers. People who had no idea what the hell was going on. Every single member of Trench's management team. Trench, the previous Director. They all fell to that resonance that took over the House by taking its control points. [ A long exhale comes from him. ] I watched men and women I knew, worked with, went to parties will all turn to it. We barricaded ourselves in. Back up eventually showed up with Head of Security... then, Faden showed up. She already knew the Head of Security. She offered to go in as the fire power we needed to fight the bastards. She and her resonance cleared it out.
[ The Ranger Captain clears his throat and looks back at Alan. He gives a trademark grin that doesn't reach his eyes. He can still remember seeing the new Director timidly walk into the Atlas Chamber and seemingly not want the gun in her hand. She's come a long way. ] Meaning that if Faden has her mind set on something? Nothing is going to change it. You haven't really seen her in action yet, Wake. You'll see what I mean.
[ Jesse lowers her head closer to the floor as their conversation continues on. It sounds like muted words to her as her attention is focused elsewhere. Her jaw sets to the side as her hair begins to sway from the rising energy from her hands. The lights in the Sheriff Station begin to flicker--not on and off, but brighter and then back to normal.
« This is harder than I thought. Why? Even the worst parts of the Oldest House weren't this difficult. It's like it's fighting us. I don't get it. There shouldn't be anything in the way. No Hiss, no other resonances... »
Except there is.
She sees a blanket of Darkness in her mind. It flashes in gray, black, white outlines. She feels a feeling of dread pass through her then and her hands begin to shake. Jesse then touches her head to the floor as the amount of energy she's outputting increases. Enough that it makes both Estevez and Steve turn their attention to her.
Small pieces of furniture begin to lift off the ground around the control point.
A familiar face comes to her mind's eye. A face she loves, but twisted and grinning. Feral. It's not his face at all when someone really looks at it. It's hungry, and angry, and wants that one thing that will make it free.
« SHIT! Shit. Shit. It can be in the whole town! It's not just the lake. It's not just the story. It's claimed all of this. That's why things keep happening. Why artists keep being drawn here. Shit. Shit. Shit. This is not good! We have to--because then we don't control anything in this town. We need somewhere that we can hold. Come on, come on..
Now! »
A small burst of energy can be felt throughout the room. A shimmer can be seen by those who are sensitive to it. Polaris pulses brightly in the room. The devices some agents are wearing seem to come to life and hum. They look down at them and Estevez unfolds her arms and looks around. ]
Director Faden...?
Where's the other point you set up? [ Jesse doesn't move, doesn't look up from the floor. ] Where did you set it up?!
In the parking lot--
[ Steve grabs a hold of Alan and shoves him against the wall at the last second. It's a blur of energy, but suddenly Jesse is at the back door that leads to the outside. She shoves her whole shoulder into it, causing the safety lock to break. In another blur she's out of sight and into the sunset lit outdoors. ]
Faden?!
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What the FBC does is not something to be taken lightly. The stakes are high. About as high as the ones Alan himself is facing, if not higher. Although it could be said that if the Dark Presence escapes, the whole world is potentially in danger. So perhaps from that standpoint, Alan's goals aren't too terribly different from the main goals of the FBC. Maybe. But as Alan listens, a wild thought enters his mind. Could I join the FBC if I ever get out? I could help them fight, if they'd have me. It's a long shot at best, but- ]
Any entity with a resonance. So... [ Alan glances at Estevez and the other rangers waiting nearby. ] The Dark Presence. [ There's probably other entities but that's the one that Alan knows best. "Knows", since there's really no knowing it. A shudder creeps up his spine as he thinks about the terror the Dark Presence could unleash.
Alan's expression turns serious and almost as grim as Steve's as the ranger goes on to talk about the damage done to the headquarters of the FBC. The picture he paints isn't a pretty one. But what Alan takes from the explanation is that Jesse turned up and gave them a fighting chance when they had no chance at all before.
Jesse moves into position, getting ready to do whatever she has to do to cleanse the Control Point. Alan waits, holding his breath. It sinks in as he watches that Jesse really is powerful; more powerful than even he suspected. When the lights begin to flicker, Alan startles. But they don't flicker and turn off; instead, they seem to grow brighter. It's Polaris. It's both of them.
But then everything seems to happen so fast that Alan's head starts to spin. With how closely he's watching Jesse, he notices when her posture seems to change. Something's happening. Furniture is rising into the air and floating. A burst of energy rocks the room. A small but powerful shockwave. There's a shimmer in the air that seizes Alan's attention immediately.
Jesse and Estevez have a brief exchange, and to Alan's ears, Jesse sounds stressed. Tense. Worked up. What happened? What did she see?
Before he can do anything else, he feels Steve grab him and shove him against the wall just as Jesse seems to speed from the room to the back door and outside. ]
... What the hell?
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[ Steve let's Alan go as his eyes are locked onto where the Director was. He always forgets how fast she can move until he sees her in action. Even then, this was unusual. Maybe not panicked, but, stressed. Worried. He's never seen Jesse lose control, and doubts he will now, but he has to wonder what just happened.
Estevez orders the agents there to start fortifying what they can. Make sure the power is secure. Light for the cellblock, because the leaders of the Cult don't need to die. The agents finish suiting up their odd square devices. Steve takes a look around before he motions for Alan to follow him. He pulls his pistol--just in case.
Jesse has already situated herself down on the other control point. This time her shoes are kicked to the side and her gloves on top of them. Bare feet and hands are on the asphalt as her head is bowed. Her hair is still pulled back in a braid that ends in a ponytail, but it's tumbled over to help obscure her face.
« It's here. It's EVERYWHERE here. Was it always like this? Did the story make it this way? Or did the story grip everything because it's so deep? It's had years to settle into this area. Not just the years since Alan disappeared. Older than that... come on, come on. One last push. Then, all we can do is wait. Come ON! »
Another shockwave hits as Steve steps into the asphalt. He only lowers the gun once he sees Jesse is still hunched in the circle, hands and feet bare. Her head is still touching the ground and she seems fine. Except the keen observer will realize how she is panting and her while body is shaking.
« There that's all we can do for now-- »
Her eyes widen slightly as she feels something come through the Hotline. It's powerful, malevolent. Evil. It's not a message to her. It's an echo baked into the ground of Bright Falls itself. One that is unearthed not by her, but by the two combatants being present again.
『 I am much older than you. Older than your first work of art. I will find a new face to wear. Someone else to dream me free. 』
Jesse feels her legs give out from under her and slips down to her side. Her breath is labored. It's taken more out of her than she thought. The Echo fades and she slumps slightly. ]
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It's not inserting himself where he doesn't belong, not really, even if agents like Estevez might see it that way. Darkness has a way of being drawn to him even when he doesn't ask for it. No, Alan remains convinced that he needs to be here.
He still won't make a scene or do anything that would get him removed from events here and put back in the cell, but- he moves instantly when he sees Jesse's legs give out. He can't move as quickly as she can nor as abruptly, but he's off and moving before he's even fully aware of it. He drops to his knees next to her, not actually sure what he intends to do, but he wasn't about to just stand around and watch.
Hopefully moving like this doesn't alert the agents. Hopefully he doesn't wind up with a bullet in his back. ]
...Jesse? [ His voice sounds quiet. Hushed. He moves to place a hand against her shoulder but hesitates at the last second. ] Are- are you all right?
[ What the hell happened? What the hell was that?
Alan can't know without asking Jesse, but her reactions look strangely familiar. He could just be grasping at straws, but he's worn a similar look on his face that Jesse seems to be wearing now. It could be coincidence. It could even be nothing. But he believes in coincidences even less than he believes in luck.
What did she see? ]
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Her gaze focuses and she tilts her head. Green eyes latch onto his gray ones. Hers aren't haunted or hazed, but have a look of knowing.
« This is what he's been fighting for thirteen years. This... this entity. I KNOW Scratch. What he's capable of. This? This isn't just that. It really is what the Hiss merged with in Hartman. The Darkness. If Hartman had been HERE with the Hiss corruption... »
Jesse pushes herself to sit up on her knees. Her arms feel like jelly and she's shaking all over. It reminds her of bringing him to the Motel. How much energy she used, and how it left her body feeling. No wonder the darkness drained her in the Oldest House.
« You're right. It's old, and powerful, but not unbeatable. We beat Hartman. Alan stopped it thirteen years ago. »
She finally looks back to him. A shaking hand raises and rests against his thigh. It takes too much to raise it further. The blood doesn't bother her. Not after what she saw. How does she put it? ]
That's what it wants--you. Isn't it? [ Her voice is low enough for only him to hear. ] That's what happened thirteen years ago. It tried to use you to come into our reality here. Through the lake, through this town, through a story.
[ Jesse does her best to turn to face him. She can't get very far despite her best efforts at the moment.
« It can't have him. We will make sure of it. Won't we? »
Polaris shimmers in agreement. ]
You trapped yourself in the Dark Place to stop it. [ Her tone doesn't suggest that she learned this, but she's putting the pieces of an delicate and complicated puzzle together. Not just the puzzle of the Dark Presence, but of Alan Wake. ] Not just to save Alice.
[ Polaris gives a nudge and Jesse follows through without hesitation. She takes his hands and places them on the asphalt that the control point is marked out on.
Polaris' resonance hums. Not violently, not subtly. Loudly. Her resonance in the very ground of this place ant not the Dark Presence. As long as they can hold this point? It can be a safe heaven. They just need to keep the lights on. That was Jesse's plan all along. It was just harder to fight for it than she expected.
« It drained everything in me. This isn't good. We need to be here for the night. Just in case. Maybe it won't be here, but in case it is, we have to be ready. I need to recoop and fast. »
Now she hopes that feeling Polaris in the very ground helps more than holding her hand did. ]
Alan. Are you able to fight tonight? I need to know. Not just for your safety, but my people here. [ Her green eyes remain latched onto his gray ones, never letting go of his gaze. ] We can talk about everything else in the morning. But, right now, I need to know if you're here with me.
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But being present is a lot easier said than done, and Alan finds he has to fight off his own fears and worries to manage it. Luckily, when Jesse moves, he finds himself moving automatically too. He lifts his arms and places them firmly but not uncomfortably on her, one on her shoulder and the other at her waist to try and support her. The last thing he wants is for her to collapse from exhaustion.
His gray eyes meet hers and stay there, searching her eyes, her face, but just seeing that look of knowing in them. She knows. She must have seen him. Whatever she did, the Dark Presence didn't like it. It must be angry now. It's always angry.
She then makes those statements about what he did to stop the Dark Place. It wasn't only about saving Alice, even though that was the main point of it all. When did he realize just how dangerous the Dark Presence was? He doesn't know, but he knows that it can't get out. Not ever.
He nods slowly. ] It can't escape. It wants to, but it just can't. It'll- No one will be safe. But it's smart; it looks for loopholes. Exceptions. Anything that it can use to make its escape, it will. [ It'll even use me. Again. Again and again until it gets what it wants. That's the real reason why Alan still feels he's better off being in a cell. But then again, cell bars won't hold the Dark Presence in.
Nowhere is safe, but- He registers Jesse taking his hands and moving them until they're resting on top of the marked up asphalt. This time, the reaction is immediate. Alan's head snaps up and his eyes widen. Polaris's resonance is loud, humming, vibrating. He can feel it. This could be the key, if only we can secure it. Hold onto it. Jesse did this. How much did it take out of her? I'm... I'm worried.
That worry reflects in his gray eyes as his gaze lowers again and his eyes meet hers. But she's speaking to him again, asking if he can fight. He knows he's needed. He can't go to pieces, not now. There's only one answer he can give, and worry turns to a look that's apprehensive but no less resolved and determined. ]
I can fight. I will fight. I- [ His fingers curl against the marked asphalt, feeling the resonance flowing through him. ] I'm with you. [ Finally. ]
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« How many other people place themselves in other dimensions to save the person they love? Alan's an asshole. But, he still loves and cares about people. Not many others would do what he's done. Less are even willing to believe. »
Jesse nods to his description. ] I know what it's like--keeping something at bay that can't enter our dimension. Not if we want to lose it all. No matter the cost.
[ « Darling. Dylan. So many people in the Bureau. The Hiss took it all to get in. What is the Dark Presence going to do to get in? What is it going to take? It's already tried to take Alan... more than once. Well. It can't have him I won't let it. »
『 So, Director Faden, here's my last lesson: you can't save everyone. 』
Jesse looks down and glares. Hard. Marshall may have been right, but she will not budge on this. She won't let it have Alan. Not only because he's too powerful of a parautalitarian. Because he's hers.
Even if she can't say it or if it's ultimately a lie because of his marriage to Alice Wake. It feels true. That's enough for her right now--to get then out of this AWE.
Jesse's hands over his curl around into something of a deadlock. Her forehead is pressing against his. A hard expression is on her face, jaw to the side. Her eyes lock back to his as she searches into his.
« Is he REALLY here with me? Will he wash out as soon as I turn my back? I NEED to know. I can't ask my people to trust him if there's the smallest chance he is going to leave me. »
Her eyebrows knit together as she feels the water gather back in her eyes. Yes, she's scared. Not of the idea that the Dark Presence is going to come. Not even of the fact it will be a hard battle and it will take a lot from her. It's a fear of losing him. She finally found him in this loop...
Her voice wavers despite the authority she is trying to project. Small, scared. Only loud enough for him to hear. He'll know that tone. ]
... Alan, are you awake? [ She presses her forehead further against his ash her hands begin to shake on top of his. ] Please, I need to know. I need you to. Right now. Wake. Up.
[ How many times has she said this? ]
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He would be the first to disagree with Jesse, as he's convinced now more than ever that he's as far from heroic as it's possible to be. But if he can do his part to keep the Dark Presence out of their reality, then maybe... maybe he can begin to think of himself as something other than an asshole.
It doesn't reassure him that Jesse knows what it's like, to be locked in a fight with something that can't... should not escape. Well, it does and it doesn't. He doesn't want her to face the Dark Presence. He didn't want her to, but it happened anyway. I can't let the Dark Presence get close to her. Not again. I won't let her be taken by it. I don't care what I have to do. It can't get to her. Or Steve. Or even Estevez, and I don't think she cares that much about me. Why should she, anyway? But I won't let it touch Jesse.
None of these people here deserve to know what horrors the Dark Presence is capable of. Oh, Steve's explanation told Alan that they know what lies out there in the dark and the shadows. They know there are menacing, evil entities that exist. But he thinks they don't have the whole picture; they don't know everything about the real horror. And they shouldn't ever have to find out. They shouldn't have to be forced into the kind of hell that the Dark Presence can create.
He doesn't say anything until Jesse's hands curl over his, her grip like a vise as though she doesn't intend to let go until she's gotten whatever it she wants to say across to him. His eyes are locked on hers too, waiting, watching, wondering what's on her mind. There are times when he can read her, read the way she moves, and guess what she's thinking, but this is not one of those times.
Hungry, monstrous things out there plotting to stop me. To devour me. Become me. No, they can't. Not this time. Not when she's counting on me. Can she count on me? Can I count on myself?
Jesse's tone brings him back to the present. He wasn't drifting, although it might have looked that way. He was processing. Thinking. Trying to decide if he could do this. If he could keep it together just long enough to help Jesse and her people in this fight.
Yes. Yes, I can do this. This one thing. I'll do it. I'll- I'll wake up. I wake up when I'm fighting. It's strange. Maybe backwards. You'd think I would shut down. But I won't. I can't.
Jesse's forehead presses against his, and he straightens up. Squares his shoulders as if bracing himself for a fight. "Alan, are you awake?" ]
I'm awake. I'm here. [ There's no hesitation in his voice because there can't be. It's as it's always been when danger is looming. Something stirs inside Alan, something he can't name or quantify.
When I'm fighting for my life, I find myself slipping into a state of intense concentration that makes the beam of my flashlight seem more powerful and focused.
He said those words once, or wrote them down once. Exactly when, he doesn't remember. He just knows that he did. And they apply to this situation now more than ever. Concentration. Focus. Awareness of what's at stake. These are things he can't afford to forget. ]
I'm awake. Jesse, I'm awake.
[ Just how many times has she had to wake me up? ]
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And, it's not as if he's above hurting others. He hurt her. He made a way for agency, then when the Dark Presence found the weakness in it, he took it away without asking. He did it to protect her, but took the choice away from her. She was angry at him, hurt, but never hated him. Jesse understood that he was trying to help her.
Losing control is just one of her buttons.
Still, he apologized for it. Promised to make it right--and he did. He's made that way again for them to be reality. Now it's up to her to make sure it does happen.
« I'd almost call it poetic--if he was a poet. Someone to make the way, and then someone to pave it. What a pair we make. It almost sounds cliche, and he'd probably laugh and think it's a little lame. Or, maybe not. He's the one who says "peachy" now. »
Her green eyes stay intently focused on his. She can't read minds--only throw things with hers. Recieve messages. Which means she has to take everything he says as not only truth but on trust. That's always been her weakness.
Trusting people.
Believing what they say is really what they mean.
Alan tests the ever living hell out of her boundaries of trust. Around, and around, again, and again. He asks her without saying a word to trust him even if he can't trust himself. Even if it makes her skin prick as that paranoia and mistrust instinctively fight back against the notion of trusting him. The craziest thing about it?
She does.
And now he's asking her again without asking.
Telling her that she should believe him.
How can she do anything else when he kept his promise?
Jesse feels the emotions caught in her throat. She presses against his forehead again, as if asking her question once more. Maybe she's afraid he'll slip away from her at the last minute--once she turns away. Maybe it's a fear that he'll look at her again and have no idea who she is other than the Director of the agency he used in his story.
Faden and her guiding star.
I'm awake. Jesse, I'm awake.
The water threatens to leave her eyes again, but she won't let them fall again. Not when the sun is going down. Maybe when they have the chance to be just them. Not when they need to be the Director and the Champion of Light.
« It's really him. I mean, the Alan I know. Not the one the Dark Place is trying to make him. »
Jesse feels the familiar tug of reality shifting. Telling her to do one thing and set the next story beat. The next moment in the plot. Except, it's not Alan's story.
« No. No. Fuck this. I'm not playing along with what IT wants me to do. »
Jesse ignores that tug trying to get her to get her to move away--to stand up and go. Instead, she forces herself to move how she wants. Forward. She presses her lips to his while her grip on his hands tighten. ]
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His immediate, first instinct is to answer no, he could not. That's why he changed it in the first place. He couldn't bear to leave the story the way it was, even if, by changing it, he took away Jesse's right to choose for herself. He did it because he loves her, and couldn't stand the thought of her meeting her death like that. He can't stand the thought of her dying at all, if he's being honest, but seeing that printed on the page was too much for him.
But she was angry about what he'd done, and so she demanded that he fix it. He did, and he apologized, and he had several bad moments agonizing about how to write the story and put them back into it in a way that didn't leave loopholes or weaknesses for the Dark Presence to exploit. He couldn't bear it if it happened again because he didn't cover up all the loopholes that he could think of. But in the end, he realized that he simply couldn't account for every possibility. He'd just have to trust that Jesse and Polaris could work with what was in the story and find ways around it when they could.
In the present, Alan's eyes also stay focused on Jesse's. It's not hard, when they pull him in. But he's looking at her, asking her to trust him, to believe that he won't let her down this time. Letting her down is unthinkable. Letting her down by endangering her entire team is somehow even worse.
This story isn't your playground.
Has he been guilty of treating it as such? Of treating people's lives as pieces on a chessboard that he moves around according to his whims? The person who said that sharply worded statement certainly thought so.
Alan realizes that even though determination is driving him, he's afraid too. Afraid that this is a bad decision. Afraid of the very same thing that Jesse is, even if he doesn't realize it: what if, the second she looks away, he slips?
Am I asking her for too much? Asking her to trust me when even I'm not completely confident that I won't get dragged down again?
His doubts surface, and his mind threatens to spin away, but his expression hardens briefly as if trying to focus on that determination that rose up just moments ago. He can't allow the doubts to take hold, not now. Jesse might be feeling reality trying to shift, but for Alan, all he feels is his convictions shifting, threatening to give way beneath him. But before they can fall too far, something pulls him back. No, not just something. Someone.
He feels Jesse's grip on his hands tighten and feels her lips press against his. Instinctively, immediately, he's returning the kiss, not caring who sees. When she kisses him, everything around him fades away until it's just the two of them pouring out how they feel into one single gesture.
They'll have to move at some point, because the story will make them move, but for now, all Alan wants is to just have this moment. ]
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