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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
[ Jesse could see herself being enamored with Alan as he was those years ago. While she's seen the asshole he was in the media? She knows him well enough to understand he wouldn't have been like that around everyone. Not that any of it matters.
He was living with his wife. Everything she saw said he was entirely devoted to her. He wouldn't have stopped to look at her twice. It hurts, but, she knows it's the truth.
She would have been just another crazy person on the streets.
A frown pulls at the corner of her lips as he continues. She doesn't need thanks--this is part of her job. Part of her. Alan somehow got his way into her life and now she refuses to let him go. She's lost enough people to AWEs. Weirdness. The way the world really is. She won't let Alan be on that list of people.
Now, if only she could express that properly to him.
Jesse lets her eyes open and move upwards to find his again. Her heart pounds from everything. Fear of losing him, loving him, exhaustion. All of it mingles together in one collective ball of... everything.
« Very descriptive, Jesse. You really nailed it. »
A few moments pass and then she pulls herself up. Not away, as her arms are still wrapped around him, refusing to let go of him. What if she does and he drifts away again? ]
I can't leave you here forever. I can't go on as if none or this ever happened. I ... that's not who I am anymore. [ « I ran and left Dylan. I didn't mean to. But look at everything that happened because I did. I can't do that anymore. I'm the Director now. » ] is it that hard to believe I don't want to go back to not knowing you? I ... we're...
[ Her gaze drops and she sighs. Words. He's so good at them and she never will be. He has all these words--doesn't he? No. He said something about the words being wrong... being "gone."
« Is he running out of ideas on how to fix Return? What about this Initiation thing? Could we help with either one? I can't take him back with me... so maybe this is the next thing we can try. »
Her head tilts to brush her cheeks along her shoulder to dry the remaining ones. Just like that, she's pushed everything back inside and entered being the Director again. The hero. The not so ordinary girl isn't what he needs. That's not why he called her here.
Her hands move from his back to gently holding his face between them again. ]
It works if your on a tour for a book... or on a creepy talk show. [ She gives him a half smile. Then, she leans in and presses her forehead to his gently. That quiet determination shows in her green eyes as well as love. ] About that... he mentioned "Initiation." Door, that is. What book is that? You've never mentioned it.
no subject
I'd say that the person living on the streets looks better than the person going to wild parties and assaulting paparazzi.
[ But logically, she's right. Back then, they would have had no reason to look at each other, much less stop when passing each other on the street. If they did.
It's not difficult for him to see now that he's gained some perspective that he was a highly unlikable person at his worst moments. Maybe he still is even now. All of his problems originated with himself, not with anyone else. He couldn't blame anyone else for how he turned out or for the choices he made. Even this mess with loops and stories and edits started with him. Everyone who got dragged in was dragged in because of him. It really is my fault. But I've had enough of pity parties. I'll fix it, if I can just find the right way.
Her eyes lock onto his again, and so he focuses his own back on her. ]
I know. I just thought that maybe if I told you that enough, that if I gave you... not permission, because you don't need anyone's permission. If I told you that it's all right if you leave, maybe it would make it easier. Better. But I know better than that, now. [ He shakes his head slowly. ] It's not hard to believe, because I know you. But it is hard for me to believe that anyone would go to these lengths to remember me. You and Alice are the only ones. [ And Barry. But I don't even know where Barry is.
He watches as her demeanor seems to shift. She's sliding back into being the Director. He knows that he much prefers the not so ordinary girl to the contained, controlled Director, but there are times when they have to slide into certain roles. She's just better at it than he is.
His eyes briefly close when her hands slide against his face. He likes it when she touches him: hands, arms, face, it's all something that he likes. He likes her hands too, for reasons he's still figuring out. Maybe it's because there's strength in those hands. Strength, capability, control... All things he doesn't have very much of anymore. ]
Yeah, I guess it does. But in case you wondered, suits are really uncomfortable. [ A part of him feels uncomfortable wearing them, but a hoodie or flannel wouldn't be received well on a talk show or book tour.
He presses his forehead against hers in return, an almost habitual gesture. It's just something the two of them do, and it feels right. ]
Initiation, it's the step in between departure and return. The... [ He has to stop and think about it. He had this conceptualized in his head once, but that was before writer's block set in and he ended up in Cauldron Lake with everything spinning out of his control. ]
The hero's journey. It's another one that I don't remember writing, but you probably knew that already.
[ His eyes slide closed again as the feeling of helpless frustration rises. ]
It feels like there's so much I need to fix, and Scratch is so far ahead of me. [ He's going to win the race and I won't have even gotten halfway.]
I should have told you about it, but I was so focused on fixing Return, I just forgot. Maybe what I should do is find a way to get a copy of Initiation and see what's in it.
[ It hadn't occurred to him to do that when he was there on the talk show. ]
But I don't know if that would even help.
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[ « He wouldnt be wrong in saying it is a low bar of expectations to meet if he said it. But, it's true. The easiest way to get my attention is to just...treat me like I'm normal. Ordinary. Even if it's untrue. »
Jesse smiles at him. A small one, but the kind that make her eyes light up. That special sort that has the love she has for him shine in her eyes. He would think he's unlovable. So would others.
« Emily called me a outlier for a reason. »
Thumbs brush along his cheeks and the edges of his beard. She's missed touching him. It's only been maybe a handful of hours since she saw him at the beach. Well... him. His body piloted by his double. The double that killed her the first time. The one that would have probably come for her again if Saga hadn't fired.
She gently curls her fingertips into his beard.
He can't die.
A huff of a laugh escapes at his comment on suits. ]
Mine isn't too bad. But, I'd prefer if I could wear my regular clothes more. Something about how "The Director needs to look professional." [ She rolls her eyes slightly.
Her forehead presses gently to his as he explains. She knows she's had the thought once that maybe she should of paid more attention in literature classes, because then maybe she'd be able to help. All she knows is the weird world, nothing about writing.
She places a gentle kiss in hopes of being reassuring or helpful. Whatever came to mind to say is shoved aside when she feels Polaris tug at her mind. Her eyes move over to one of the two chalkboards beside them. Jesse stands, hands moving to his shoulders and giving a gentle tug to the worn tweed coat for him to follow.
The chalkboard is blank and her head tilts slightly. Polaris shimmers around the boars. Jesse frowns a moment before she pushes on it, finding that it is on some sort of hinge. She pushes against it, then reaches up to the otherside and pulls it down. A few steps backwards and Jesse finds herself looking at a side of the board that's entirely filled out. Pictures of locations, notes of "scenes" beside them. Summaries beside them. Notes--lots of notes.
So many notes it almost hides the board underneath.
Jesse reaches out with one hand to take his; give him an anchor as she looks over each note. She sees his wife's name. One about Mr. Door's talkshow. Someone named "Tim." A few locations.
« The Oceanview Hotel? That must be how he found his way to the Motel that one time. Huh. Hotel. I bet thats something to see.
But, this is it, isn't it? Where he plans out every version of Return. And, Initiation, I guess. Notes for what worked for edits, what didn't. Just how many times have we gone around... how many chalkboards did he fill up? »
Her fingers curl around his and give a squeeze. One she hopes is as comforting as she means it to be. ]
"Initiation Draft"... you haven't numbered it?
[ Her eyes fall on one note that is seemingly placed in the middle of the others. One that seems to be a bit newer--the paper hasn't changed color. Her other hand raises as fingers move across it.
"I promised her. Don't forget it.
Don't fucking forgetPut us in "Return."She pauses and stills for a moment. Her hand seems to tighten around his. A moment passes before she looks back at him. ]
no subject
Her smile and the way her eyes light up warms him. It's cold beneath the waves, but when she's smiling at him like that, he doesn't feel it anymore. When she looks at him in that way, he almost feels as though he could come home. He could leave this place behind and put the nightmare behind him. The memories would still be there, but so would she.
His eyes remain closed as her thumbs brush against his beard. Why does he like her touch so much? He can't point to just one thing; all he knows is that her touch calms him even when everything inside him is a raging storm. Or, well, maybe a storm of panic and worry is more accurate. He is worried and stressed, and if he stops to think about it, he worries about the safety of everyone who's been dragged into this story. At the top of that list is Jesse, of course. She's already been murdered once, and that still feels like his fault.
Just thinking about it makes him feel sick.
If he can't die, then she can't either. Not again. Never again if he has anything to say about it. ]
They don't suit either of us, do they? [ Somehow, he manages to make that pun, even as he navigates the nervous storm that's inside him. ] But it's not hard for me to imagine you looking good in anything, even a suit. Honestly, though, I like the way you look right now. [ He likes the way her hair falls to frame her face. It makes him want to reach out and touch it like he's done before.
But then she's kissing him once more and tugging at the edge of his coat as if beckoning him to follow. He does without hesitation, stopping only when she approaches the chalkboard. There, he hesitates, watching her nervously as she takes in the side of the board that's covered in pictures and notes. So many notes. So much writing.
In between the notes and the pictures, wherever there's space, she might notice a five letter word written there. Not a word, a name. Her name. It's all over the board, and sometimes it looks as though the hand that wrote it was shaking, based on the unevenness of the letters.
Alan's gaze shifts away; he's not drifting or spiraling, but he doesn't want to watch as she looks over the board. Why? It's like it's giving her a look into his mind. She's seen that already, of course: seen how his thoughts run away from him, chasing each other in circles. She's seen the fears, the anxieties, the paranoia. But all of that is on display in some shape or form in the notes that he's written to try and outline the story.
It's very personal, and somehow, as silly as it sounds, he never imagined anyone would see it but him. His gaze remains lowered even as she reaches for his hand; he takes hers readily, fingers wrapping around it as if he's holding onto a lifeline. He is, isn't he? ]
No, I- Not yet. I don't really know why. [ Is it because I don't want to think about how many drafts I'll have to go through? Maybe. I don't know.
His eyes shift then to see what she's looking at, and when he realizes she's seen the note with his scrawled words about his promise to her and the admonition to not forget that promise, he looks down again, missing her own gaze by just seconds.
What will she think about me having to remind myself with a note? I should just remember what I promised without needing a reminder.
His gaze is turned down to stare at the floor, and his shoulders seem to have slumped an inch or two as if a weight is pressing him down.
That promise means everything to me. Keeping it IS everything to me. I always want us in the story: us finding each other, being together, loving each other. I wish that I could be confident there'd never be any risk to her, but I can't. That risk will never go away. But I have to tell her. I can't just assume she knows how I feel about keeping my promise.
With his eyes still turned down and looking at the floor, he says her name, his tone questioning but betraying his nervousness too. ]
... Jesse?
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[ Jesse's lips press together to keep herself from laughing at the pun. Her eyes gently roll, but the smile is still in her eyes. She gently hits her hand into his arm--playfully. ] You saw part of it. If you remember meeting me in the Motel.
[ He remembers the Light Switch Cord. Hopefully he remembers the key she gave him to her apartment too--maybe he has it on him or in his desk. Now that she thinks about it? She hasn't seen his messenger bag or the angel lamp. Does he only have those at certain times? ]
My hair's usually up though. So, you may not like that as much. [ Jesse thinks he'd rather dislike having that much of her hair pulled back. At least if he likes seeing her hair hang around her face. ] Maybe I'll change it when you're home.
[ Her fingers wrap around his tightly. He's cast her into the role of hero and lifeline. Normally she'd rail against being put in something like this without permission. But, maybe these roles are so natural that she doesn't think twice of it. All she thinks about is how she can do those roles better. Be more of them. Fulfill them.
She nods at his reasoning. It might be too maddening if he realized how many times they've been through it all.
Her gaze moves from the note her fingers rest on to the rest of the board once again. Then, she sees it. Her name written, sometimes scribbled, in any available place. A weight seems to press on her. If it was anyone else? She'd be horrified. But, she knows Alan, and knows his mind. Seen what the Dark Place has done to him--to his mind. It's not disturbing, or obsessive.
If anything? It hurts.
She had the feeling creeping on her that perhaps she didn't truly understand what it meant to insist he put them into the story. Not that she is apologetic of asking for it--but she is for demanding it in the way she did. There was no way to truly understand the enormity of the task for such a small thing. Now his reactions make all the more sense. She had a feeling that he was never thanked for all that he did... but now everything around it is truly settling down on her.
« He's been doing all of this by himself for how long? How many versions did this all go through before this version of Return? This is all such a mess. One big fucking mess. What can we do to help? Is there really anything we can do here? »
He says her name and it pulls her from the communication with Polaris. Her hand squeezes his tightly before slowly turning to him. Alan's gaze is on the floor, turned away, but he's still present in the room with them. He hasn't washed out.
She takes small step needed to be pressed into his personal space again. Her other hand reaches out to take his. Jesse was never much of a physical person until she met him. Now it's like she can't stop trying to hold his hand, or touch his elbow, or be close to him in some way.
Then, she rests her forehead on his shoulder. ]
I'm sorry. [ She hopes he understands what she's apologizing for. ] I didn't know how hard it would be for you. I shouldn't have demanded the way I did. I just...
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[ His expression shifts to something that's halfway thoughtful and halfway annoyed with the relative closed-mindedness that some people have. He might have been one of those people at one point. ]
Part of me thinks I wouldn't have. That maybe even back then, I could tell that something was different, even if I didn't know what. The things that I thought were brain waves of inspiration could have been things from behind the poster trying to reach me.
[ His own smile grows a little wider as he sees the way she presses her lips together like she's trying not to laugh. Maybe the Dark Place hasn't taken everything from him. Maybe it's left the little things behind. ]
Yeah, I remember. The Motel. You. The suit. I think you'd look good in something not so... constricting. [ A loose t-shirt and jeans. Something casual. And with her hair down. ]
I think I'd like it however you decided to have it. But since you asked, I do like your hair like this.
[ His gaze is still turned downwards, but his tone is resolute, if not filled with a certain emotion. ]
I did what you told me because I wanted to give you something in return, even if it was just a promise. I did it because- because you're important. We're important. We should be together, even with everything going on. I want us to be together, I-
[ He pauses when he feels her step back into his personal space and her forehead comes to rest against his shoulder. ]
I did it because I care about you. I care about you so much that I couldn't stand the thought of- of losing you again. To Scratch or anything else. And- And I still feel that way. I don't want to lose you. I don't want you to get hurt or killed.
But...
[ He pauses again. This realization has been a long time coming, and now that it's here, he's unsure how to explain it to her. How to make her understand.
And again, the thought of being an inadequate wordsmith in spite of his reputation arises. The words will come sooner or later; it's just a matter of saying them and not hesitating. ]
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[ Still, Jesse can only slightly smile. ] It would have been nice if you'd believe me even then.
[ Although, she knows that it would have hurt in a way too. Part of her would have latched onto him. A part she'd have to let go of because he was still married to Alice. He technically is still, and she hasn't forgotten it. She knows once the loops end, the AWE is over, that Alan is going to have to go back to Alice. Whatever ends up happening will... including if she has to let him go because he still loves his wife.
« But, he'd still be home. In our reality. Maybe writing books or short stories or for Night Springs again. He"d be alive and home. Even if it'd be with Alice... »
Jesse just let's her smile curve a little. The time isn't right for certain jokes, so she won't make them, just imply. ]
I usually wear things like that around the apartment. It's more... rock and roll if I'm outside and not at work. [ She isn't quite sure why her wardrobe matters. Probably because it's something real. ] I'll keep all this I mind, you know.
[ She has fallen quiet after her own words trailed off. Listening to what he says, his breathing, having a small frown on her face. She hadn't meant to put him in such distress about it all. Pushed him to a point where he obsessed over it. Even if that is more caused by the Dark Presence more than anything.
I just want to be with Alan. Nothing else matters. Not the Buearu, or Bright Falls. Maybe that's in the ending. Maybe the story is fighting it so much because it's already there and we're trying to change it. If I just let it happen, then...
« WHAT? No. No, that's not me. Or you. What is trying to sound like me? Us. Something is trying to sound like us. Alan is important. We're important. But not at the cost of everything else. What the hell? »
Her fingers shift to slide between his on both hands and clamp down around before he beings speaking. Polaris seems to get louder, blocking out whatever that Something is.
« It's not allowed in. Whatever it is. You can't let it in. »
A squeeze to his hands as he pauses in what he's saying. ]
I don't want to lose you either. Not again.
[ She understands. Some small part of her maybe had no realization of how much she loved him until he was laying there dead on the beach. A splash of reality hitting her like the wave coming in. No one is safe in this story, not even the editor. It's going to take away who it wants when it wants with no remorse.
Because Scratch--the Dark Presence--wants it all.
Her tight grip on his hands shifts to be even tighter. Slightly painful with how hard she's pressing onto his hands. Polaris resonates loudly--but not so loudly she drowns out everything. Just turned up both defensively. Protecting both of them.
Jesse presses her forehead to his shoulder.
She's fallen so much for him and she can't say it right. ]
I won't let it take you from me. These damn things have taken so much from me... You're not going to be one of them. [ She lifts her head only so she can press it into the crook of his neck. Part of that girl from Ordinary is peeking into the conversation despite how she tries to be the Director in that moment. ] You're mine. My Alan. It can't have you.
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[ He shrugs lightly, figuring this might sound weird to her. Embarrassing, even. And it might bring up unwanted memories of the family she lost. But it's something he feels is important, something he hasn't yet told her. ]
My mom gave me something: an old light switch. It was just a story she told me, but it made me feel better. It made the darkness not as terrifying. The light switch- the clicker could drive away the darkness. [ He shakes his head. ] A stupid idea for a stupid kid who couldn't sleep at night.
[ But it meant something to him as a kid, and it still means something to him now. ]
So, I mean to say: if I believed that a light switch could send the darkness away, I think I could believe you. But maybe that's not saying much about me.
[ I guess now that I think about it, I was a little messed up even back then, even as a kid. Maybe that's something we have in common. Maybe. Or maybe I'm just the crazy one in this equation. Maybe my crazy predates her crazy. Except I don't think she's really crazy, so... Yeah. Whatever. ]
Rock and roll, huh? [ He tilts his head to one side at that, wondering what she means. ] You're not secretly a rocker, are you? [ He already had the thought once that getting to know Jesse is like peeling away the layers of an onion. He's certain there's things he still doesn't know about her, just like there's things she doesn't yet know about him. ] I could see you liking Nirvana.
[ Or maybe she'd hate Nirvana, but it was the first band that popped into his head. When was the last time he even thought about something as normal as just listening to music? He already knows he can't remember. ]
What are you thinking right now? [ Maybe it's only in his head, but he thinks he can see something like an unsettled expression showing on her face. ] Is something wrong?
[ It's faint, but he can feel that resonance from Polaris shifting, growing... but why? He doesn't hesitate to squeeze her hands in return. And even when her grip tightens, he doesn't pull away. If she needs to hold onto his hands to ground herself, then of course he'll let her. How many times has he held onto her hands in order to do the same thing? They help each other as best as they can. ]
It's not taking you from me either. Nothing is. Not the Dark Presence, not Scratch, not anything. I'll fight it, even if I get so tired, I can't even stand up. I'll still fight it until- [ Maybe saying that is too dramatic, even for me. Too metaphorical, or something like that. ]
I'll fight to keep you with me. I'll fight to stay with you. [ It can try to wash me out. I'll fight back. ]
You're mine too. [ He wouldn't have ever said that so plainly if not for the fact that they both seem to know it's true. They found each other, and neither of them wants to let the other go. ] I won't let go.
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« He's still afraid of the dark. Except this Dark does have things that come to life in it. People carved out into empty puppets. Faces that shift. Items that can move on their own. This Darkness really is a monster and something to be afraid of. » ]
Maybe it drives the Dark away because you believe it will. There's... items are altered by events around them. Altered Items. Some are so powerful that they can impact and change not only themselves but reality. It's how parautalitarians can access what we can. I... just have more under my belt because I'm the Director. But, whose to say your light switch isn't actually magical because it is?
It changes the room around it by casting shadows away. It changes the reality we see and interact with. [ There is no dismissal in her tone. No denial. Complete and utter belief. ] It happened to me. I was... in the basement of the building Door does his show in. I was stuck. Then, this light came from nowhere and changed it all around me. I found the Light Switch Cord. It led me to your message...
[ « I really am weird. Hopefully he doesn't mind. Hopefully it's the right kind of insane. »
Jesse shakes her head slightly at his question. ] No. I... couldn't open up enough to be in a band. [ Her gaze drops and a sad smile takes her face then. ] I meant more like, leather jacket, jeans, sometimes a band t-shirt.
Nirvana was okay. But, I grew up a fan of the Old Gods of Asgard. Dad had a few of their vinyls and I was instantly hooked. [ Her gaze lowers slightly. ] I found the vinyl covers in the dump. They brought the entire Ordinary Dump to the FBC to study... made a diorama of the town... mapped out how the whole AWE started...
[ She frowns. ] They did the same thing for Hartman. He was in a containment cell next to a mockup of a lodge at Cauldron Lake. They were trying to get him to react to something, I guess. The documents I found didn't really say what they were looking for in him.
[ The frown turns into a slight smile at his words. The implications of the words both used imply some form of ownership, and some people might find it uncomfortable. Oddly enough, not Jesse. She feels ... wanted. Needed. Like she belongs with someone. Maybe it's screwed up, but what about her is normal?
Her eyes close as she presses her face into the crook of his neck. ]
It looks like we're both too stubborn for our own good. Maybe that'll help... now that we're working together, and I'm not just making demands. Even if you agreed? I'm sure how I went about it didn't make any of this easier.
I'm sorry. [ « I'm not sure I could say it enough to actually express it. He's dealing with so much shit. He doesn't need me making more shit for him to deal with. Not when I'm supposed to be here to help. » ] Is... there a way to make it work that won't be difficult on you? It might be a fight either way, if the powers that be are so against it.
[ « If his doppleganger wants to be him so much... why does he hate me? Is it just because of what I am? Or hes a mirror of Alan so he hates me as much as Alan loves me? I don't understand. I don't like not understanding this. »
His other questions haven't gone unheard or unnoticed. She just doesn't want to bring attention to it. Alan seems like he's in a delicate place at the moment. She can't imagine hearing about what she's hearing is going to make him any better in that place. He might topple over. Start to wash out again...
If I just stayed here, then he'd never go away again. I could stay here with him. We could finish the edits together. Find a way for the ending to make everyone happy. Then, just let it play out. We could be happy here together. Just the two of us. It's weird enough for us. Being in another place all together away from the real world. If he can't get out, why can't I stay here?
« STOP. Just stop it! I'm not going to indulge or argue with this. Fuck off! »
Jesse feels another spike of Polaris's resonance shoot through her. It's almost like a battle now. One that the resonance isn't entirely equipped to fight. Polaris cancels the Hiss and amplifies the light, but there's not much of it in the room. Regardless if it's coming from Alan or just being in the Dark Place period. Polaris needs something to make herself stronger to push out whatever this Something is.
Jesse takes a few steps back until she's against the desk in the room. Her hands tug on his, asking him to come with her. Then, she lifts herself to sit on the edge of the desk he's been using for years. Her hands slide from his to his elbows as she presses her forehead to his. ]
Alan. [ Her voice trembles slightly as she tries to figure out how to say it. How to let him know what's going on without being blunt and sending him out on a spiral in his mind. She doesn't know what it is, and she doesn't want it to get to him through her. ] I need you to listen, okay? Stay here and listen.
[ She finally opens her eyes again to meet his gray ones. She's always liked the color. It's unique, like him. ]
Polaris has been trying to reach you. Not just because you asked, but... because she's trying to make herself stronger here. In Bright Falls. She can't cancel out the Darkness because it's not what she does. She cancels the Hiss. The Hiss amplified the Darkness in Hartman, making him the Third Thing. Right? You remember that.
She can do the same for the Light. But, she's a benign resonance. She can change things, but it's harmonious, gradual. She can only make the Light stronger and louder... she can't replace it. [ Jesse presses her forehead to his more. ] That's why she's been trying to help you. You're the Champion of Light--the Torchbearer. If she can reach that part of you, she can help. But, you have to let her--us--in. I don't mean by loving me or agreeing with me.
You have to listen to her and bring yourself to her. [ She brings their hands up to rest in her lap. ] You have to take the light switch, believe it will help, then turn it on. She can help the way you want her to when the lights are on.
[ « Come on, Alan. I know you can. You're smart. You work in metaphors. Your books are laced with them. You know what I mean, but don't be scared and run away from it. Fight it. You can be that man again in some way. The one who jumped in the Lake to save his wife. »
Maybe he doesn't want to. Maybe he just wants to stay in the Dark with his nightmares and bring me in with him. Companionship. Someone to be in the Dark along side him. I could do it. I'm not an artist, it wouldn't try to do the same--
« SHUT UP. »
Her hands clamp around his elbows as Polaris's tries to build her resonance again. ]
Alan, you need to wake up. All the way. I need you to wake up. Please.
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[ He can't let himself linger on that thought for too long, because doing that would only cause him to lean more towards a feeling of futility, that maybe he should give up. The Dark Presence constantly tries nudging him in that direction, to just give in and let the story play itself out how it will. But he can't afford to do that. He won't allow himself to do that. ]
Maybe it is magical, but I don't think it's magical enough to free me from this place. Or maybe I just don't believe in it enough. I- it's complicated. I know it drives the shadows away, but it's not going to break down the walls between realities and let me escape.
[ Too late, Alan realizes he's sinking again. Slowly, not rapidly, but he's definitely sinking. ]
I'm sorry, I can't- I just can't. I- [ His face falls again, knowing he can't continue this topic of conversation. Feelings of hopelessness are never that far from him, but it seems that they're dangerously close to pulling him away from her again.
Talking about normal things like the possibility of Jesse being in a band is better than talking about what he's facing. What he's been facing. Maybe it's just a form of avoidance, but for him, facing his fears and this situation head on doesn't help. It just makes him spiral more. It's different when he's in the loops. In here, the darkness has all the cards and all the control. ]
I- [ He forces himself to draw a shaky breath and let it out again in an effort to calm himself back down. ] You'd look good in jeans and a band t-shirt. And a leather jacket. [ I hope she understands what I'm doing. I need to talk about something normal, or I'll wash away again. ] Out of the vinyls you found, which one did you like most?
[ It's not too difficult for him to imagine that maybe listening to the Old Gods makes her feel close to her dad. Or maybe it doesn't. Maybe it's just him making things up. But he likes to think of it being a positive thing for her.
Against his earlier resolution from just minutes ago, Alan puts forward a theoretical question based on what Jesse just told him. ]
What if you put me in a containment cell next to Cauldron Lake? What if it woke up Scratch, or lured Scratch in close enough that you and whoever else you brought with you from the FBC could stop him? What was that stuff you mentioned once? [ Again, Alan has to search through his confused memory to find the right thing he's thinking of. ] Black rock? Maybe it wouldn't work, but I don't know what the hell would anymore.
[ He falls silent as she presses her face against his neck. Sometimes he just wants to be quiet, to not talk for a little while. He's always talking, always writing, and sometimes he just wants quiet. Except too much quiet is what lets unwanted thoughts in. It's about finding the right balance. ]
Nothing about this is easy. I don't expect you or anyone else to make things easy. [ He laughs dryly. ] I'm not even making it easy for myself.
[ He shakes his head. ] Why are you apologizing? Nothing about this is your fault either.
[ He doesn't want to state it so plainly, but he's starting to believe that the only way for this to work is if it's hard on him. Maybe he's believed that all along.
She's right in thinking he's in a delicate place. He's drifting just as much as he is staying still: staying there with her. Oh, when he feels himself start to drift, he tries his best to fight the current pushing him away. But his efforts aren't the strongest, not anymore. Even the strongest of swimmers can tire when caught in a current. Alan's been caught in one for far too long, and he's beyond tired now.
If he knew that the Dark Presence was trying to lure Jesse in with its insidious voice that's disguised and camouflaged to hide the truth, Alan would react as strongly as he could. That's why he never wanted Jesse coming this close. It's not worth the risk. He can't stand the thought of her being touched by the darkness or being pulled beneath the waves like he was.
Her hands tugging on his is what pulls him out of his thoughts, away from the waves crashing against the shore of his mind. It takes a valiant effort on his part to focus on her, but he manages it in the end. ]
Jesse? I'm- I'm trying to listen. [ The roar of the waves wants to drown her out, but he's doing his best to pay attention. ]
Polaris. The guiding star. Your star. [ He hasn't forgotten these details, but he needs to remind himself. To keep the memory from fading too much. ] Nothing cancels out the darkness. [ Is it all a hopeless endeavor? No, it's not. It can't be.
He finds himself struggling to remember what she's talking about. The memories are still in him, in his mind, but they're becoming buried: stifled by the darkness. ]
Hartman. The Hiss. The Third Thing. I think I remember. Barely.
[ Jesse starts talking about light, and how it relates to Polaris. Or how Polaris relates to it. Alan's gray eyes seem to darken, as if whatever light still left in them is waning. ]
Do you see light in this room? [ The champion of light? The torchbearer? Whoever that is, he's not here.
He nods in the direction of the dim lamp on the desk. It barely lets off light at all, just like him. ]
Don't you see, there's only darkness here? The lights can't penetrate it, can't break through. The- the lights won't turn on. It's too dark. There's too much darkness.
[ I can't...
He leans instinctively into her touch even as he feels his fears pulling him away. ]
How? How do I wake up? I mean, really wake up? I don't know...
[ Suddenly Alan's voice is filled with desperation bordering on hysteria as he tries to fight against the swirling darkness that threatens to choke him. ]
... can you help me wake up?
[ Maybe she can't. Maybe I have to help myself wake up. But how? ]
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[ Her gaze softens. She isn't willing to say he's ready to give up, but, he's certainly wanting to avoid facing it. He's been fighting on his own for too long. He's tired. Probably scared. He hasn't had something or someone like she's had Polaris. It's been thirteen years of this room, these boards, the desk, the typewriter. It's possible he doesn't really fully grasp the fact that he's not alone in this now.
He has her. Polaris. ]
It's actually what I was wearing when I found the FBC. I literally took what I had on me, and took a bus, and went straight to New York. [ She smiles slightly at him. ] That's what I was trying to tell the woman in that recording. Polaris sent me instructions on where to be, where to go, and what day. I didn't know why or why it was important until I got there ... and went diving into the past. More than I thought I would.
I was always a fan of Children of the Elder God. Dad usually played the Greatest Hits. That's the one I found in the dump that the FBC had taken. No vinyl though... just the cover.
[ Her hands squeeze his once more. Though, she stills at his suggestion. What good would that do? They pulled Hartman across the country to the Oldest House. And, when Alice Wake showed up, he broke out. He trashed an entire sector of the Oldest House. How would doing something similar to Alan be any better?
« Scratch is more powerful than Hartman. He's been... apart of the Dark Presence longer, right? Or, he is the Dark Presence. I can't tell which one. They seem interconnected. I don't think it'd be a good idea to bring him to the Oldest House. Especially if he's in Alan. That's NOT happening. Never again. » ]
Hartman broke out and nearly tore the entire Investigations Sector apart. Scratch would devastate what's left of the Bureau. I can't take him back there. Especially not inside you. That's not happening, okay? You're not getting out of here just to sacrifice yourself on some grandiose scale because you feel guilty, Alan. That's just going to make it all worse and you know that. It'd be giving Scratch exactly what he wants: to be you.
[ She sighs and shakes her head. ] Something does cancel out the Darkness. Fights it. It's the Light. Come on, Alan. You KNOW this. How do I know you know? You were the one that taught it to me. Weren't you? When you sent me after Hartman.
[ The whole parade of events is horrifying for her to see. It's different from talking to Dylan possessed by the Hiss. Instead, she's sitting there just watching as the Dark Presence takes over his words little by little. She knows Alan. Understands how he writes, how he talks, how he thinks. The words are in his voice but they aren't his. His voice changes to match the cadence of the words. A duller tone, lacking of anything that makes him Alan Wake.
« No, he's wrong. There is light. It's not bright, but it's not smoldering either. But it's still HERE. He's still here. That's why he brought us here. Why else would he relate the color of my hair to fire, and refer to you as a guiding star? Other than my name for you. They both give off light. Those two things make things brighter. It's just not letting him see it, because if he does, then it's losing. And it needs someone to dream it free. That's what this Something is... isn't it? This voice in my head that's trying to be me. It's the Dark Presence. The same thing talking through him and making him believe what he's saying. He hasn't realized it's not HIM saying it. »
Jesse lets one of his elbows go and reaches back behind her. The flashlight on the desk vibrates until it sails perfectly into her hand. It clicks off. Now she understands why Polaris had her grab it. She always knows where they're going. The North Star.
Her gaze never leaves Alan's dull eyes. A panic fills her as his eyes darken, but she never lets it show. Sometimes she'll let her guard down and show him everything, but this isnt' one of those times. Not when he isn't himself. She won't give the Dark Presence, Scratch, whoever it is have that much power over her. That much control. There's only two beings she'll ever give that much control of herself over to.
Both are in the room with her right now.
With an unwanted guest.
Not only are his words wrong, but how he's acting is wrong. It's not her Alan at all--the real Alan Wake. It's the Alan Wake that the Dark Presence is trying to carve him into. The one that will give up and let it take over. He always has a particular tone and sound in his voice when he's speaking with her, to her, narrating at her. All of that is gone. Now it's just the man the wave of the Dark Place leave behind when it washes him out.
He probably doesn't even realize who she is.
« Just a fiery guiding star in the night sky. One the drowning man is trying to grasp onto from the small driftwood he's hanging onto.
Fine. That's fine. I can play that role if that's what he really needs--deep down. If the Director and Jesse can't help? Fine. We'll do that. We can't let him drown. »
『 She knew that desperate acts can have grim consequences. It was this, more than the man's despair, that made her follow the call. 』
« He knew me that well even back then. »
She gently slides the flashlight between his hands in her lap. Her own hands clasp around his. Thumbs brush along his to guide them to the switch on the side. She doesn't press in on them just yet.
｟ Alan. ｠
Jesse lets out a shaking exhale. She's never done this before--let Polaris take over this much. But, it's what her best friend tells her to do. She trusts Polaris with everything... but it still scares her to let go this much. She'll do it.
Around one constant they revolve. ]
｟ Alan Wake. ｠ [ Jesse feels the words come from her. Her voice and Polaris's resonance being spoken out loud, not just said in Alan's mind. ] ｟ Darkness only exists where Light does. One makes the other. The other clings to it's maker. Around and around they go. Spiraling down together. Spiraling up together. The Writer existing in the space between both and needing to know both to write his escape. Alan Wake, the Writer. The Writer who needs his words and his light to shape the Darkness. ｠
[ Jesse gently tugs him closer, placing her forehead to his for this brief moment. She's hoping the words reach him and resonate--to finally free him of the ocean in his mind. So he can be Alan Wake again.
« Even if in the end he can't be Alan Wake with me. »
The thought of that hurts as much as losing Dylan did. Straight into her core, and the expression shows in her eyes. She's so afraid of losing him like she lost everyone else. ]
｟ You called me, and here I am. I'm here. The fiery guiding star. The star can point the way, hold out her hand to save the drowning man, tell him what he needs to do. The Writer must decide who he is. ｠ [ Her voice wavers between Polaris' resonance and Jesse's voice at times, but still harmonizes between the two. ]｟ Will Alan Wake be the Champion of Light, or allow the Harold of Darkness to take him? Will he chose the ending written already, or follow the path that revolves under the star he called? ｠
[ Jesse is practically screaming in her own mind. Scared, worried, panicking because she can't control the situation. He has to come home. He promised. She presses against his forehead again as her gaze begs him to pick who she knows he is, but ultimately, she can't make him chose. She can't pick his decision. She can't control it.
And that scares the hell out of her.
She feels herself pull back. Polaris is making her do it. Not away from him entirely, but removing that touch of their foreheads. Her hands remain around his with the flashlight. That gentle resonance that belongs to uniquely them channels into his hands and into the flashlight. The one that rests between his hands and remains off despite how Jesse's fingers overlap his to help him press the switch.
Polaris nor her host can turn on the light for him.
He needs to decide if he'll continue to fight and grasp onto the light and finally free it... or drown away in the waves of the darkness. ]
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Just because it so happens that the nightmares became real for me doesn't mean kid me wasn't silly. But, for what it's worth, thanks for never dismissing me as just some nutjob. I know I don't need to say it, and we've had this discussion, but- I just want you to know that I'm... Well, I'm grateful.
[ In ways that Alan can't quite explain, he feels as though he's his best self when he's with people like Jesse and Alice. Both of them highlighted his good side, and brought out what positive aspects he had. He doesn't feel like a very desirable person when left to his own devices, but something about them makes him want to be better. ]
I still wish that I had half of your confidence, though. [ He still can't envision a way out for himself, so maybe in a way, he still hasn't grasped that he's not facing this fight alone anymore. He has allies, but it hasn't fully registered. ]
I'd say that qualifies as dedication. Focus. Determination. Things you seem to have in spades. Polaris guiding you along the way probably helped.
[ It's only an observation on his part, although he has wondered before if his own journey would have turned out differently if he had someone like Polaris guiding him too. But there's very little point in wishing for it now, not when he's this far into said journey. Although he's not sure how much progress he's really made, given all the loops and everything else. ]
I know what you're saying, and I get it, but- he can't be me if he's dead. And if he's inside me, what's stopping him from just being killed like any other person? If he was distracted, if he didn't expect it, maybe he could be stopped for good.
[ It would have to be fast. It would have to be violent; a bullet to the head isn't good enough. Taking off the head? I can't suggest that to her, but that's the kind of drastic action I think it would take. I think that to stop Scratch for good, the way it happens has to be the kind that leaves no possibility of survival. Total destruction. But what if Scratch just went into someone else? Maybe an incinerator would do it. I'm definitely not telling her about that idea.
But the waves are coming back for Alan, intent on washing him away once more. He's no longer himself, not the Alan that loves her and wants to have a life with her. The Dark Presence is coming to life inside him, overwhelming everything that makes him who he is. With the Dark Presence in the driver's seat, he's no longer Alan Wake as Jesse knows him. He's carved out, empty. More of a vessel than a man. ]
The light? [ Alan's face twists into an expression that's unlike anything he normally wears. It's ugly, sarcastic, filled with disgust. ] The light can't break through this darkness. It can't even touch it. It's useless.
[ No, it's happening again. It's happening again..! It- I don't... this isn't what I want to happen. She can't see this. She can't be here-
Alan's desperate thoughts are cut off, drowned out by the darkness inside him. ]
Shut up. Just shut up. [ Alan's mouth moves, but it's not Alan saying those words. It's not Alan looking at Jesse with thinly veiled anger in his eyes. But Alan's not done; he hasn't given up full control to the Dark Presence. It's trying to wash him out, trying to control him, but he's trying to fight it off.
He's buried beneath the waves, drowning again, but he's still there. Still trying to claw his way back to the surface. His fingers curl against the flashlight that Jesse slidies into his hands. He knows what this object is, and he knows what it does.
I can use this to burn away the darkness. I've done it before. It works. It always works. But is it strong enough now? Am I strong enough?
The voice that's Jesse's but not Jesse's at the same time breaks through Alan's thoughts. If Jesse's watching close enough, there's no missing the immediate reaction that's two-fold. Alan's form gives a great jerk, as if the darkness inside him is recoiling away from that voice. But the person that's still Alan Wake stubbornly coils his fingers further around the flashlight.
Alan's mouth moves, but the words that come from it aren't his. ]
Darkness will drown out everything. It'll drown you out. It'll drown me out. Everything will become darkness. It's already started. It spreads from me through the cracks in the wall. You can't stop it. The light isn't shaping the darkness. The darkness is shaping YOU.
[ Alan's eyes have widened, his form stiff and rigid. This isn't right. I can't let this happen. I- I SAID SHUT UP. It seems that the ocean doesn't want Alan's words to be heard. He can't speak over the roar of the waves, but he can feel Jesse's presence. He can feel the way she presses her forehead against his. He's still in there somewhere, still trying to reach out even though he's being overwhelmed.
A muffled moan escapes Alan, and this time, it sounds more like the man himself and not the dark entity that's tearing him away. It's a power struggle, and the Dark Presence has most of the power. But Alan's not done yet. ]
I'm- I'm the Champion of Light. The torchbearer. I- Polaris is stronger than you. [ Alan's tone is quiet; it's almost barely audible. But it can still be heard in the silence that characterizes the writer's room. ]
The light is stronger than the darkness. Why? Because the light has allies. What do you have?
[ The Dark Presence doesn't like that, and it crashes the full force of its strength down on Alan. His back arches and his head tips back, but he doesn't let go of the flashlight. Still, the Dark Presence forcibly takes Alan over once more, using his mouth to form words. ]
You'll lose. You'll all lose. Your reality will be drowned. All will be drowned.
[ He registers Jesse pulling back from him, but he can still feel her hands on his. The Dark Presence is still using his mouth, and words flow from it in a confused, jumbled torrent. It's variations on the same thing: drowning the world in darkness. Drowning out all forms of life. Nothing is stronger than the darkness.
But the darkness hasn't counted on a little thing called willpower. Alan might not have much left, but he still has some. And what he doesn't have is bolstered by that resonance flowing into his hands and into the flashlight: a spring of light flowing from Polaris.
You won't win every time.
It's slow and barely noticeable, but Alan's fingers bend: slowly at first but gradually moving more and more. The skin of his fingers turns white as he presses against the switch on the flashlight. The Dark Presence is screaming insults in his mind, but he's ignoring all of them. He's trying to, anyway.
You won't win. Not this time.
At first, there's just silence. Stillness. Alan doesn't move. Only his fingers continue to press against the switch. And then there's a click, and the room is illuminated with a beam of light.
The switch has been pressed, and the flashlight has turned on. But the Dark Presence isn't done with Alan just yet. A primal roar echoes around the room, a sound ripped forcibly from Alan. It's not Alan making the sound, but it's his voice. And the voice is angry. Incensed. The flashlight was not supposed to turn on. The writer wasn't supposed to have the will to resist. ]
You'll pay for this. You'll pay.
[ It's a strange scene to behold, certainly. Alan's still holding onto the flashlight, still pressing against the switch even though the beam is still holding steady. But the expression on his face is one of rage. Rage directed at Jesse. At Polaris. At Alan himself. The light might be on, but the Dark Presence isn't letting go so easily. Not just yet. It still has Alan in its clutches. His eyes remain darkened and the look on his face is nothing like Alan's normal expression. It's definitely not how he normally looks at Jesse. No, the Dark Presence is still in control, and Alan is still washed away by the waves. ]
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Still, Jesse smiles at his thanks.
He continues on and her expression changes. Hard, determined, her own mind made up. They aren't using him for bait. She's not going to leave him out for Scratch to take. He promised her that he'd come home. That they could have a life together. She isn't going to eat him break that promise just because he's scared or ready to give up.
Although, as the scene in front of her plays out, she understands why he suggests what he does. He's not really Alan the moment.
Watching his face contort brings up memories of finding Dylan for the first time. Finally meeting him after so long. How Alan's voice changes. How the viewed anger finally flares up. It's all too reminiscent of that moment with her baby brother behind glass. Dylan didn't see her then--all he saw was Polaris. The resonance he thought abandoned him.
You? YOU! You came through in the hole in you! We let you in.
Alan jerks away--mostly--and for a moment all Jesse can see is Dylan immediately resonating with the Hiss. Both beings reacting so violently to Polaris. Her hands remain around his. Resolute. Even if inside she's horrified by what she sees--scared that she can't do the one thing he's brought her to do.
Save him.
Her hands gently squeeze his as his voice comes through again over the violent energy bombarding from him. Through him. Forcing him to channel it. In some ways, it seems worse than the Hiss. The Hiss broke you down and forced you up into their collective. It doesn't seem like the Dark Presence cares for collectives. It want only itself and vessels to occupy for itself.
You'll lose. You'll all lose. Your reality will be drowned. All will be drowned.
It dawns on Jesse then that it's the reason Polaris has insisted on so much. Why they had to be here--even down into the Dark Place. The Dark Presence wants their reality, that much is obvious. But, Polaris has already "claimed" domain in a way. Her resonance beats through their reality and the idea of another entity moving in is unthinkable. Maybe it's cruel and inhuman to see it that way... but Polaris isn't human.
And this battle is bigger than just the writer the Dark Presence channels through and the woman that amplifies and generates Polaris.
She feels his fingers press the switch. Ever so gently, Jesse presses her fingers against his. A supporting gesture. Calm, collected, a foundation. They brisk over his as the flashlight clicks and its stream of light turns on between them.
A light that Polaris wastes no time in amplifying.
She resonates through the Light, finding the spaces to fit herself between to make the rays louder. Intense, but never painful. At least not painful to Alan.
The primal roar rocks the room and Jesse presses her feet to the desk to keep herself steady. Grounding Alan through their touch. A beacon--a lighthouse--above the waves to call him upwards. The fiery guiding star.
The rage on the Writer's face is met with a resolute stare from the amplifier. Polaris shimmers around Jesse, almost as if to stand in defiance of every word the Dark Presence threw at them. She shimmers brighter, intensifying the more th Dark Presence uses Alan's face, voice, mind. It's thin threat as ultimately, Polaris is an invader in the Dark Place. An entity not of this dimension who is making claims of her own.
Jesse's green eyes even seem to brighten. The sound made brighter by the light. The light made louder by the sound. ]
｟ Around one constant they revolve. Not you. ｠
[ Power rolls off of Jesse and into her hands. Through his, into the flashlight. The beam brightens to what might be considered near blinding for a creature of the night.
However, Alan isn't a creature of the night. He doesn't belong in the Dark. He has darkness in him, as does every human, but he isn't a servant or creature of the will of the dark. He belongs to the Light, and its why he was chosen for it. An artist both entities could use, but one's power he can naturally channel with his own.
Just as Jesse could always naturally channel Polaris. ]
｟ Grow brighter. ｠
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GO AWAY.
[ The words sound loud and harsh, tearing themselves out of Alan, but it's nothing compared to what happens next. The primal roar turns into screams, ripping themselves from the trapped writer who just wants all of this to stop. The sound is painful to the Dark Presence, and it's expressing that in the only way it can: by forcing its host to scream and struggle as if trying to get away from Polaris and that terrible sound. But there's nowhere to go, nowhere to run and hide from the sound.
Hiding beneath the desk wouldn't stop the sound. Not that Alan would let such a thing happen anyway. In his own way, he's trying to resist; trying to stop the Dark Presence from fleeing and hiding. As always, Jesse's touch helps. He can feel it, even though the Dark Presence has ways of drowning out all senses: sight, sound, feeling... It wants to drown out Alan entirely so that nothing remains of him, just the darkness inside, making him malleable, usable for whatever the dark entity wants.
It uses Alan again to betray its frustration and annoyance with the stubborn man who refuses to just give up and be its vessel. Alan's teeth grind together and his hands tighten against the flashlight, and for a second, it looks as though he could lift said flashlight and hurl it against the nearest wall. ]
Get rid of it. Evil. Cursed. Trouble.
[ It's forcing Alan to speak again, betraying its reaction to the sudden, unwanted incursion of light. Darkness can't spread when light is present; or at least, it slows down the pace, and that's the last thing that it wants.
The power originating from Jesse and Polaris and traveling from her hands to Alan's and into the flashlight angers the darkness more, and that anger shows itself in the lines of tension in Alan's form. He's still resolutely holding onto the flashlight, but he's beginning to hunch over as veins start to pop out in his neck. His shoulders start to shake, and although that look of sheer rage is still present, Alan manages to briefly break through the darkness and the shadows in his eyes lighten just a fraction.
I'm still here. I'm still in here, trying to get out. It's not going to-
But as before, the darkness covers him up again, cutting off his attempts at speaking. Thinking. Being himself. His eyes lock onto Jesse, and that look of hatred is clear in them once more. ]
You think that you make a difference here? You don't. You mean nothing. This light means nothing. The darkness means everything. You're only delaying the inevitable. Darkness will cover everything. All realities. All worlds. You will lose.
[ But the power is still alive and resonating, growing stronger, and something seems to shift. The Dark Presence keeps forcing Alan to speak, but something seems to be happening. ]
Darkness will cover everything. All realities, all worlds. You will lose. You will lose. You think you make a difference here? You don't, you-
[ Abruptly, the flow of words that are beginning to loop around stops. Something's stopped them. Alan's mouth opens again, and just one word comes out. ]
Stop.
[ Fingers curl more against the flashlight, the grip Alan has on it tightening even more. ]
You can't drown me out forever. [ More shadows seem to fade from Alan's eyes, the shades of black fading back into gray.
But something strange seems to happen then, something that Alan knows can only be explained and attributed to Polaris. The sound made brighter. The light made louder. The flashlight beam brightens, its light growing stronger. Louder. Brighter. All of it all at once. It's brief, only lasting for a second, but a reflection of the light shines through the windows of the room. For just a second, the darkness in the room is countered by the light.
The reflection of the light's beam seems to shine onto Alan, illuminating him against the darkness. The darkness doesn't like it, but the balance of power has shifted. Temporarily? Permanently? Who knows. But there has been a shift nonetheless.
Another roar sounds, just as primal as the last, but not nearly as loud. And then nothing but silence follows, stretching out for what must feel like hours. Alan doesn't move, doesn't say anything, but that feeling of a shift remains, just as the beam of light illuminating him stays where it is. ]
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Except neither things yelling at her are Alan.
« The irony of the Dark calling the Light evil. »
She wants to reach out and hold him as he hunches over. Polaris won't let her. He isn't truly Alan at the moment. It would just open a potential way for the Dark Presence to attack her--hurt both of them.
But, she sees Alan in his eyes. The gray eyes she loves, not the dark shadowy gaze staring at her. Her own green eyes soften at the sight.
« It's Alan. The real Alan--my Alan. He's still there. It hasn't taken him entirely. We have to keep trying. »
She can feel the shift around them. Something in the dream like reality has changed. She can't say she knows the Dark Place well enough to known what happened. If this was home, maybe, but it isn't. Only Alan can tell her. He's just unable to at the moment.
Her hands remain on his, channeling into the flashlight. She can feel her feet start to tingle as if they are falling asleep. There is so much power coming from Polaris and it's so draining...
The words stop and Alan speaks. The real Alan, not just being a puppet for another entity.
Everything else happens so quickly her mind is almost reeling from it all.
A sudden surge of light from outside the Writer's Room. Her eyes immediately snap to it, as if a spotlight has shone in. It envelopes Alan in the glow and another horrible scream echoes the room. Jesse looks back at Alan, but her eyes are more drawn to the wall behind him. The shadow play shows what she can only presume to be the Dark Presence leaving Alan's body forcibly and dissipating.
The whole room lights as if an overhead light has come on. Polaris resonates stronger, loudly, but not deafening or harmful. Just as if a gentle sound is pushed up to one of the main things coning through a speaker.
Then, heavy breathing through a mask.
« A... diver? What? » ]
『 Alan! Listen to me: go no deeper. Focus! You're losing yourself. I will try to help how I can, but you it's up to you. 』
[ Jesse blinks as the overlay of a Diver appears around Alan. It's coming through the Hotline even though the message is for Alan. Maybe because Polaris is helping the ..."Diver."
« It's not really a diver, is it? »
Everything seems to finally calm.
Jesse slowly let's go of the flashlight. Her shaking hands raise to rest on either side of his face. She isn't sure what to do or even what to say to him now. Is it really Alan Wake, or.... ]
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But the only problem is, for the Dark Presence to be driven away, it has to leave its host. And for Alan, that means going through a very not good time at all. His mouth opens like he wants to cough, but instead of a cough, something that looked like smoke pulls itself out of him and just keeps on coming until there's nothing left. Through the entire process, Alan keeps trying to cough, keeps trying to breathe, but breathing is hard when expelling literal clouds of darkness.
But finally, it's over, and nothing remains of the Dark Presence but a few last tendrils of smoke that quickly fade into nothingness. Alan's still where he is when this whole thing started, but he looks paler and even more exhausted now, if such a thing is possible. But the darkness that clouded his eyes is gone. He's still illuminated in the beam of light, the same light that drove the darkness out of him.
But more than just the beam, the entire room seems to be lit up now. In a way, it reminds Alan of yet another nearly-forgotten memory of a place he'd almost forgotten existed: the Well-Lit Room. Well, maybe it doesn't exist anymore. Maybe the lights finally went out and its caregiver wasn't able to replace them in time. He doesn't like to think about that. No, he'd rather think of the room being just as it was when he saw it, watched over by its ever vigilant overseer.
This room is not like the Well-Lit Room, but for now, as long as Polaris' resonance remains, it's at least a lit-up room.
But then something else happens that Alan could not have predicted. In his mind, he's back on a mountain path, and a mysterious voice is directing him to stand in the light for his safety and recovery. It's that same voice that he hears now.
Alan's response is two-fold. What he says first is not what he wants to say to the image of the Diver, but it comes automatically and he can't stop it. ]
I'm awake. I'm back. I'm feeling... feeling awful, what is this feeling? I died? Did I die? It got me. It ate my mind. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
No, that's wrong, that's- It did get me. It did eat my mind, but- I'm back. What did I do? Did I write something? What did I write?
[ The Diver's image is still appearing around Alan, hovering over him, and what it says isn't a direct response but an echo from another time along ago: ]
『 You are hurt. You should go into the light. You are only safe there. 』
[ I'm hurt? No, I'm not, I'm okay. Well, not okay, I don't think I can stand up. I don't want to stand up. I want to sleep. Please let me sleep. No, don't repeat that again. What happened? ]
I'm not trying to go deeper! [ Except even as he says that, he knows it's not true. ] I don't want this to keep happening. I can't stop it when it does...
[ Alan's words trail off again, and as she's done many times before now, Alan feels Jesse's hands move to slide against either side of his face, and automatically, instinctively, he sags against her, head sliding further into her hold.
The fight with the Dark Presence, if it can be called a fight, has left Alan exhausted. For now, all he wants to do- all he's capable of doing, is resting against her. Maybe soon, his strength will return and he can stand on his own, but for right now, he just wants to allow himself this moment of relying upon her for support, if she's still willing to give it.
Maybe if the Diver... the brightness stays around long enough, he'll recover faster. Maybe. ]
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« This is their home reality. Where the Dark Presence and that Diver thing exist. This is how they interact, how they fight. Alan is trapped in the middle--both using him to some way. Just like you said. Between Dark and Light. Except, he's aligned with one like I am to you... and the other tries to take him away... like the Hiss did to Dylan. We're the invaders here. Why are you so intent on helping this Diver? »
Polaris shimmers among the light rays coming in from the window.
« Not unlike you? That's--it's the Light? The opposite of the Dark Presence? Which means... enemies. Like you and the Hiss. It's trying to stop the Dark Presence like you wanted to stop the Hiss. But, it doesn't come into our reality like you did. It... it teaches people how to use it to fight the Dark? Like you resonate through me to fight the Hiss. This--there's so much. Am I ever going to understand it? Am I supposed to? »
Her attention snaps immediately to Alan once he speaks again. She's not entirely sure if he is talking to her or to himself or... shit, maybe it's the Diver for all she really knows. She isn't sure he's aware it's really her. Jesse--his Jesse. If he really does see her that way.
It ate my mind.
She blinks a few times, opening her mouth to say something. What can she say? Is she supposed to say something? No, she's probably not supposed to. That one sentence explains everything in so many ways. How he seems go fade away--the waves that wash him out. It's not just his mind wandering away because he's been out of their reality for so long.
« It's literally eating his mind. Not his brain, but what makes him Alan Wake. He told me this, and I've seen it. No. No, maybe what I've seen is what happens after it eats his mind. That's what the waves are... or when it's eating his mind? I don't know. He wouldn't tell me if I asked. »
Another thought dawns on her.
« Have I--have I ever been with the real Alan Wake? When he's fully here. With no waves in his mind, or his thoughts taking him away.
What if I'm too insane when he's entirely here? »
She glances upwards at the fading out image of the Diver as his words echo over the Hotline. So, the Diver really did teach him how to use the Light.
Alan sags into her hold and Jesse immediately compensates. Her arms wrap around his shoulders and pulls him close. His head can rest against her shoulder. She'll hold him. Polaris is still humming, but the power needed from her is less. The native inhabitant she amplifies is present, so, she has stepped back for now.
Jesse's hands curl into his tweed jacket. Her gaze drops. The Diver's breathing echos.
Her voice is small, scared of the answer she'll get. ] ...Alan?
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She never should have seen that. I never wanted her to see that. Now she knows there's never been a time when I was myself. I'm always being pulled one way or another, never staying still. Never being myself. Who would want to be with someone like that? Who could love someone like that?
Who am I, anyway?
Suddenly, it doesn't matter to Alan if the Diver remains with them or not. It doesn't matter if he reminds him about how to use the light to his advantage. The knowledge is in Alan's mind somewhere, if the Dark Presence hasn't clawed it all away. What does it matter if he knows how to use the light to drive away the darkness? It'll never make it go away for good. The Dark Presence will try to take him again, and when it does, he hopes Jesse isn't there to witness it. Not again. Not for the first time, a fear of what will be left of him gnaws at Alan's thoughts.
If the Dark Presence keeps up these attacks, there might not be anything left. He could write all the notes to himself in the world in a desperate effort to hang onto who he is. But would it be enough?
He rests his head against her shoulder, feeling more tired now than ever. But still, some part of him manages to reach out to Polaris who is humming and try and hold onto that humming resonance.
The Diver might be gone, or going; Alan can't tell. But he can hear those echoed breaths just as he can feel Jesse's hands curling into the fabric of his coat.
She's here. She's still here. ] Jesse. [ It's not a question. It's a statement, and a wavering one at that. Alan's voice is as unsteady as the rest of him, and it's hoarse too, the result of the screams and shouts that the Dark Presence forced out of him. ]
I- I don't know if I can do this anymore. [ I have to write. That's a given. But how can I write when I don't know what to write? Why can't I write down the ending? There must be an ending. The story has an ending. I just don't understand why I can't find it. ] I'm doing something wrong... Is there something wrong with me?
[ Has it taken too much of my mind for me to really know how to fix the story?
A handful of seconds pauses before Alan adds: ] I'm sorry. Again.
[ Maybe I can't write the story because it doesn't want to be changed. It has an ending. It's just not the ending that I want. It's trying to make me give up. And I think it's succeeding. ]
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Her breath catches in her throat at the sound of her name. He knows who she is still. A painful but loud beat of her heart next. That fear still grips onto her person. Nothing from the Dark Presence or the Dark Place. A natural fear that now he's truly awake he will leave once they have him home. That now he can see her and Polaris together, it will be too much, and he will leave.
He may remain in the room, but he'll turn his back. Ignore her. Only see the poster on the wall.
I don't know if I can do this anymore.
For the first time in a very long time, she truly feels alone.
Just her and Polaris in the world.
« It's not supposed to be like this. He's finally awake. He's finally here, with me. We should be... »
Jesse's gaze drops to his shoulder once more. Some small part of her is relieved his face is in her shoulder and he can't see her face. She tries to compartmentalize it all like she normally does. Business first. Being the Director.
It hurts too much to contain it
Her head tilts once more into his shoulder. Hiding her face from him. Obscuring the unordinary girl everyone thought was crazy. She is crazy.
« I'm too crazy for him. Aren't I? All of this is too much for him. He'll leave. He already is, and he's finally awake... He promised to come home. »
Jesse's hands curl further into his coat for one more brief moment. She presses her forehead into his shoulder once more before lifting her head and squaring her back.
« No, no more. It goes back inside. Locked away like everything else. We don't habe the time or luxury for me to be like this. I'll work it out. Even if it ends up just being you and me again. We've done it before. »
Polaris shifts.
« No. The not so ordinary girl isn't who he needs right now. He doesn't need to see it again. Seeing it got him to this point. That's what matters. What to focus on. » ]
You're exhausted, Alan. It's obvious to see. [ Her tone has changed almost entirely. Jesse who is sure of herself. In control. ] Just, take as long as you need. Polaris and I aren't going anywhere. We'll keep the light on.
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The Dark Presence doesn't care about what it leaves behind. But Polaris is still sending that hum through him, and whether or not she's doing it just to help him, or because it helps her, it doesn't matter.
He latches onto it and holds onto it even as he hears Jesse's breath hitch. Through his exhaustion, he realizes she's rattled too. Affected by the horrors of the Dark Place.
Even through the overwhelming feeling he has telling him to just lie still in her hold, he recognizes what she's doing. He feels that shift, and he doesn't like it. ]
Jesse. [ He says her name again; quietly, hoarsely, but it's him: his voice, not being used or twisted by the darkness. ]
Don't. [ Alan doesn't have any long grand sentences to say, but he hopes his meaning gets across to her anyway.
His head is still on her shoulder, but he needs to be looking at her for this to work the way he intends it to. A muffled groan escapes him as he struggles to lift his head to try and look at her.
Part of him knows he doesn't have the time to linger in this exhausted state. Pieces are still being moved. The Dark Presence is still acting, and Alan needs to act too. ]
Don't. [ He says again, and there's a note of desperation in his voice. ]
I- I need... [ His voice falters and a look of frustration flares briefly into his eyes. If he could just communicate this without words, it would be so much easier, at least right now. ]
Come back. [ His tone is quiet, and there's no force behind his words, just a quiet request. He knows what that shift in her tone means, subconsciously recognizing it, and he believes it's not what either of them need.
No masks, no roles, nothing to hide them from each other. If he's really awake, he wants to see her as she is, not how she feels she has to be. ]
Please, come back.
[ Will she understand what I'm asking? I don't have the words to explain it, but I'll have to try if she doesn't. ]
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The Dark drained her and the Light restored it.
Polaris continues to hum throughout the exchange. It is a byproduct of what the resonance is. It won't change, but certainly more noticeable now that the light remains in the cabin. The Diver is gone, but, the Light remains on inside. Possibly because the occupants demand it be there, and the Dark Place must mold around both entities that inhabit it.
Her attention moves from noticing that there almost seems to be an overhead light on back to Alan when he says her name. She frowns slightly at the sound of his voice. The exhaustion and pain is evident in it. He needs to rest... however rest looks in the Dark Place.
『 The Light. A safe haven in the dark. Able to change the world around someone in the dark. It's... harder to send messages when there's no Light. When someone has gone so deep, they forget how to see it... 』
She glances to the side at the voice coming through the Hotline. A woman's voice, but she doesn't know it. The message fades out, which is unusual in itself. Usually it plays everything before it stops. It doesn't just fade out like reception is gone.
The light is still on in the room even as he continues to speak. Jesse feels her body tense, eyebrows knit together and that feeling of curling in on herself comes back. He groans and the hands on his back press against him to try and keep him where he is.
« He needs to rest. He can barely move, let alone try to write or make edits. Alan. Don't move. Just stay there. I'm fine, I can handle it. I'm the Director-- »
The desperation in his tone is what stops even her thoughts in an instant. Her heart pounds heavily as she tries to figure out what she needs to do. He won't lay against her, instead insisting on raising his head to look at her. As always, her eyes instantly meet his.
« He's so tired. »
Her head tilts as he tries once more to communicate what he needs. Maybe wants. Something inside her already knows but doesn't understand why he'd need it. He needs to rest, to heal, to lean against something strong until he's built himself back up to keep going.
« How am I that when he called us to help him? Both of us. Together. You and me. I'm not. What if now that he's awake he doesn't... »
She doesn't finish the thought even to Polaris. When he was awake in loops, it was always Alan. But, she can see now, that part of him was always drowned out by the Dark Prsence. It hadn't let him go. No matter what she or Polaris did. They had to come here to pull him out of it. Doesn't that mean he's never really seen her? Just maybe what he's wanted to see through some sort of weird dream logic or however the loops work. Maybe now that he is wide awake, just injured, he'll decide she's not what he thought she was.
Not as the Director, or Polaris' amplifier, but... her.
Jesse Faden.
Her jaw sets to the side. As much as those defensive walls try to flare up? She knows she can't keep them up. Not because of her own exhaustion or trying to wrap her mind around everything that's happened since she stepped in the room. Alan's asked her, and she's fallen far too much for him to deny a request from him.
Especially with how he is now. Broken, injured, hurting, exhausted.
Her green eyes leave his to look down. The wall coming down isn't gradual or a slow process. Instantaneous. Vulnerability takes her gaze, as does the worry. Her shoulder sag and her hands curl back into his coat. What takes the longest is her looking back up at him. ]
You need to lay back down... just for a little while. Okay? [ Jesse tries to interject some of that authority and confidence in that small voice she speaks in when her walls are down. Because it is what he needs--to rest under the light. To heal. ] We're not going anywhere.
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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. ]
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Finding the FBC, Dylan, and the truth didn't heal everything. It helped everything. But, she's realized some scars and wounds go deep and she isn't sure how to fix those. She can trust and rely on others around her... until things get too close to her. She attaches onto those things then doesn't let go of them.
Alan's become one of those people.
She glances down as he pauses to gather himself, eyes going back up to his when he speaks again. Her eyes widen slightly as he explains his feelings; that he loves her. Water threatens to well, but she's resolved not to cry again. Not for the moment. Not here and not more.
A hand lifts from his back to rest on the side of his face once more. Fingers brush along his cheek to try and give him some... comfort, love, strength? She doesn't know exactly. Hopefully the gesture helps. A smile is in her eyes as well, as she's scared to let it show on her face. Not that she could pin point why she is.
Fingers leave his cheek to press against his lips to stop the flow of words. He's breathing heavenly and just needs to stop. He can't work this injured and he can't focus or think this tired. He'll just run himself further into the metaphoric ground and the Dark Presence will get him again. ]
Alan. Stop. [ Jesse hesitantly puts her forehead to his. Fingers press against his lips to keep him from speaking in protest. ] You can't write like this. You can't even stand up. Lay down for a little while. It can't get you in here right now.
Let Polaris help the Light how you need it. [ She guides his head back to her shoulder, the one arm on his back wrapping around him protectively. The other leaves his lips to rest on the top of his head. She's never been good at any of this. ] Then we'll get to work. Okay?
[ Jesse glances down for a moment before curling her fingers into his jacket and hair. ] I love you too.
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If he could find the strength to say it, he'd reiterate again how much he loves her. How grateful he is to her. Instead, he tries to put as much of those expressions into his eyes as he can. Again his eyes slide closed for a second or two in response to her hand resting against his cheek, fingers brushing along the skin there. Her touch comforts him, and it makes him feel loved. Not forgotten about. Not alone.
But then Jesse stops him from talking by pressing her fingers against his lips, and again, he has to rely on his expressions to communicate what he wants. The look in his eyes speaks volumes, if she's looking. The exhaustion is there, but the desperate need to pull himself together and start writing is starting to drown that out. Or, it would if his state of mind was more stable. His breath hitches, and his already heavy breathing quickens as a panicked kind of hysteria claws at him. It's muted by his exhaustion, of course, and his inability to move hinders him further, but it does nothing to stop the chaotic thoughts churning in his head.
If I'm not writing, something else will write for me, and we've seen what happens then. Who will die this time? How many of them? It's- It's hard to undo something once it's been done. I have to be writing, to get ahead of it, or it'll get ahead of me, and then- and then people will die.
Alan's gaze is still directed at Jesse as his lips begin to move again. His voice still has that same quiet tone, but loud enough to be heard. ]
I won't let anyone else die. No more deaths. There's been too many.
...No, I can't do this again. Not this. Please.
[ The sentences don't seem to follow each other in any sort of logical way, but Alan isn't aware of how odd they must sound. He's too worn out to keep up the seemingly endless flood of thoughts that his mind wants to get lost in; well, it doesn't want it, but it's just something that happens. But now, Alan doesn't want it to happen; he wants to stop it, wants to hold it at bay.
It can't get you in here right now. But it'll come back. It always comes back. It'll take me again. I don't want it to take me again.
Alan leans against her more, putting more of his weight on her, as he lacks the strength to stand on his own. It's not just the lingering weakness rendering him unable to stand; it's the fear of being taken by the Dark Presence again. That fear never goes away, but somehow it's worse now. Stronger than before, leaving him weaker than before.
Let Polaris help the Light how you need it. Yes, I need it. The Light. It's supposed to help, isn't it? I need it to help. I need to be stronger, to get back to work. What good is being awake if I can't do anything?
Letting it help means surrendering to it, and surrendering in general has never been something he's good at. But now, he needs it. He needs the Light, if it really will restore his strength. He can't continue this fight on his own, so he just lets go. His knees bend suddenly, and he'd be falling if not for Jesse's hold on him. Instinctively, he reaches for her, hands wrapping around her to slow his descent, even though his knees don't want to support his weight any longer. ]
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« Is that how it keeps catching him? It's just managed to wear him down with story after story that now it feels is the time it can take him over? We won't let that happen. I can't let that happen. Even with everything else at stake... I can't let it take him from me. »
Fingers brush against his lips and she'd rather be kissing him. If it wasn't for the fact she was so worried about his state of being, she would have. It wasn't but minutes ago they were kissing and talking to each other normally. Well, semi-normally. Now everything has made a complete flip on it's head. Will it always be this way? Or, is it just the nature of the Dark Place that things swing so quickly and wildly?
Her arms wrap around him securely. She can tell he's thinking a million miles a minute, and it's not something she can keep up with. Thoughts about him, the Dark Place, her, the story... she can't even begin to guess what it is. The back of her fingers begin to gently rub at his back. Hopefully it's comforting, because she truly has no idea how to be that for someone. She can't remember the last time she received something like it outside of Alan holding her hand. That gesture remains something she can't do as he's practically crumbling in her arms.
Jesse doesn't stop him from speaking. He needs to speak, to fill the empty space. Or, maybe he's simply thinking out loud. A stream of thoughts that don't make sense to her. Meaning they can't be for her. As long as they aren't insane rambles she feels will lead him down a dark path? She won't stop him.
« It's not like I could if I wanted to. »
She startles as he suddenly falls against her. His knees give up, but his arms wrap around her. Jesse gasps slightly before immediately adjusting for his weight and lack of strength. Her eyes dart down to his legs and then back up at him before making a decision immediately. Jesse hovers off the desk slightly, pulling him with her down onto the floor. It takes a little maneuvering so they are at the front of the desk with her back to it, as she figures that being in a slightly shadowed part between the desk and chalkboards wouldn't benefit him at all.
Both hands help him lay where he wishes to go, knowing she can't really stop him when he makes a decision. He seems to all but collapse against her, but ultimately settles with his head in her lap. She immediately stills, hands raised slightly above him as she's not entirely sure what to do now. This is something she's never done before.
« I don't know how to comfort people. I don't... how do I do any of this?! How can I help him when I don't begin to know how to give him what he needs? I... I'm just not good at this. That'll be a problem as it goes on, won't it? The fact I can't figure out how to express things, or to be doting person... »
She slowly, hesitantly, places one hand on his arm facing upwards. There's a shake there that she hopes he hasn't noticed in his exhaustion. The other hand rests against the top of his head on her leg. A feeling of failure creeps up on her. She's probably already messed it up somehow. Despite trying to do the exact opposite.
It's like I'm seeing you. Finally. For the first time. You're beautiful, and- and I love you.
« I can't see how I'm any of those things. »
Jesse looks to the side and squeezes his arm gently.
Something comes to mind then. An image that feels like a half-forgotten dream, but also feels so real at the same time. Leaning back against a broken shed in the dark woods. Light pouring over her from a street light. A weight is at her side, and her eyes turn to look at the source. Alan leans against her, head drooped, exhaustion claiming him even as the sunrise starts to peek over the trees. Tweed jacket, hoodie, jeans... short hair and no beard. He looks younger younger, but she is younger. A shaking hand raises and rests over his in her lap. She feels just as nervous and just as scared of doing the wrong thing and upsetting him. But, he hardly seems it, and if anything leans more into it.
Jesse blinks and feels herself startle again. The semi-familiar wooden attic is still around her, but she knows she never really left it. Her eyes dart side to side, trying to see if anything else has oddly shifted in the room. It hasn't. Alan is still resting in her lap, and the room remains as quiet as it always has, except for the hum of Polaris's resonance beating through the Light.
Her gaze drops to the Writer. Slowly, a hand shaking hand lifts from his arm to rest over the hand nearest to her. ]
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