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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
« 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?
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
« 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. ]
no subject
If Alan can't speak aloud without straining his voice, at least he can still think. But even thinking feeds into his exhaustion. No, all he really wants to do, for as much time as he can spare, is just rest. Not talk, although he has thinks he would say if he had the energy to talk. Not think, because all he does is think. He needs to write, and that can't wait. But how can he write if he can't even stand? Jesse could sit beside him so he doesn't fall over, but could he even use the typewriter or a pen?
And in all honesty, he wouldn't mind going back to how they were: kissing, talking, being together. But were they really together if the Dark Presence was lurking the whole time? Can we be together now? If I can just pull myself together...?
That is one of Alan's many fears: that Jesse will grow tired of this constant back-and-forth like the pendulum of a clock. When the pendulum swings one way, Alan might be present. But when it swings the other way, he could be gone. Back and forth, again and again. Who would put up with such a thing?
Maybe he's never told her, and maybe he should, but her touches help, even the small ones. He feels her rubbing his back, and it is comforting. This relationship is uneven, in Alan's mind. Jesse's helped him so many times, tried to comfort him so many times even as she insists she's not good at it. What has he done to comfort her? Not enough. Not nearly enough.
He falls against her, as his body finally gives in; he finally stops trying to fight off the need to just lie down, to just stop for a minute. If Jesse wasn't here, he wouldn't dare consider stopping to rest. If it was anyone else but Jesse, he wouldn't consider it, wouldn't even attempt it. The combination of Jesse and Polaris makes Alan feel safe, as safe as he can when Darkness is lurking just waiting for an opportunity. Maybe he shouldn't feel safe; maybe he shouldn't trust Polaris as much as he does. But why wouldn't he trust her? Jesse trusts her, and that's enough for him.
He wouldn't put himself literally in her hands if he didn't trust her. If he didn't trust Polaris, the guiding star.
He feels Jesse pulling him down to the floor alongside her, and the only thought that comes to mind is a feeling of relief that the floor is sturdy. It's a strange thought, maybe, but when Alan's own foundation is hardly a foundation at all, even a hardwood floor can be a source of relief. The writer's room might be part of his own personal prison, but at least it's solid. It's a small comfort.
Maybe he knew all along that he wanted to lie on the floor with his head in her lap. But it's where he ends up, and he doesn't seem interested in moving once he's there. The only movement he does make is to let his head turn to the side. Or maybe he just lacks the strength to hold it in place.
Finally still, Alan's eyes slide closed. He's not sleeping, as sleep isn't a concept in this place, but he's just allowing his eyes to rest. He feels everything Jesse does, every touch that she places on him, including the way her hand shakes. He opens his eyes briefly, and a look of tired knowing slides into them. Knowing what, he's not entirely sure, but he just wants her to know that it didn't go unnoticed. A look of apology forms then as well, as if saying without words that he's sorry for putting her through yet another difficult moment. Maybe all of their times together will be nothing but difficult moments. Maybe all he'll do as long as they're together is apologize for causing her trouble. He'd do anything to keep her from leaving.
Instinctively, as if reacting to those thoughts, he nestles his head a little further into her lap, not to the point of causing discomfort or annoyance. He just wishes to be a little closer to her. To feel her. To be assured she's still there.
Then, he feels her hand cover his, resting on top of his own, and again, out of instinct and trust that comes from having gone through so much with her (loop after loop, a meeting in a motel, and now this...), his fingers curl against hers, trying to find the spaces between them to slide into. It just feels right, when so much around him feels wrong. ]
no subject
Back and forth, round and round, it is all exhausting. They can't stop though. If they stop, then the story doesn't change, and people die. Saga's daughter dies. Her people die. Alan is still trapped. The ending that Alan is so adamant to change is real. She doesn't know what that ending is, just that Alan says it can't happen.
She trusts him about that. About so many other things. Maybe she shouldn't, but she does regardless.
Her fingers slide between his and she offers him the best smile she can muster. The concern, worry, and fear are still evident in her eyes. She's pressing down the more drastic reactions because she knows he can't handle it at the moment. Her breaking down and crying, curling up to sort through it all... yeah. It wouldn't help at all.
He wants to see her not acting as Director, but she needs some part of it to get through this. At least until he can talk and be up by himself again. There is no reference for her in how to handle anything like this. It's beyond her threshold of experiences and knowing what to do.
Alan Wake is damn good at pushing her limits of trust and experiences.
Her hand is still trembling. Not that there's much she can do about it.
She glances up, as if expecting the world to change around her again beyond the rays of Light. It doesn't, of course, and it leaves her wondering what it was. Not a memory--because she's never been in Bright Falls before now. Maybe a dream? It felt a bit too real for that. Something from...
« Do other realities exist? I mean. Something like another version of me. Or Alan. Or you. Obviously other realities exist. That's why we're here. How we're here. Could there... really be a version of me that met Alan before? Maybe it's not worth thinking about. There's too much else to focus on. »
Her hand squeezes his despite how it shakes. Jesse stares ahead of them, realizing she is intently watching the door that leads into the Writer's Room. ]
no subject
Alan's breathing hitches again as if his body is reacting with displeasure to those thoughts. But he can't pretend it's not a possibility. They might meet again in the loops, but it won't be like this. He doesn't want it to be exactly like this. Jesse being here in the Dark Place is dangerous for her.
Just give me five minutes. Five minutes to tell her what I think. That's all I need.
At some point, his eyes closed again, as if even keeping them open took more strength than he presently had. But after a few more minutes passed, he opened them again, gray eyes searching for hers even though he doesn't have to look very far. He wouldn't ask her to worry about him, or be concerned about him, knowing she doesn't show those things easily. of course, they're showing now, but he's reasonably certain she'd rather wear the stoic mask of Director than allow her real feelings to leak through.
If he could, he'd reach up with his hand to touch her, but that action seems a bit beyond him for the moment. So he contents himself with lightly squeezing her hand in return as he tries to summon up the breath needed to say what he wants to say. ]
... Jesse, I- [ I have to get this right. It has to be exactly right. She has to understand. If I can just get her to understand, it'll be worth it. ] You need to know something.
[ He hopes she can forgive how he has to stop and start frequently to catch his breath. ]
You've- you've helped me. Maybe it doesn't seem like it, or feel like it, but- You have. I know you have. And...
[ His eyes flicker again as if threatening to close as his exhaustion pulls at him.
No, I'm not done. I have more I need to say. ]
I need... I want to help you now. [ To help you with everything you went through with Ordinary. Before it. After it. I don't know if she'll understand.
Who held her hand when she was going through that? When she was being told she was crazy? Polaris was there, but who else?
He sees her looking away from him, staring ahead of them at the door, as if she's expecting something to happen. What is it?
That sense of urgency pulls at Alan again, and he has to stop to catch his breath again. ]
I want to help you with- with... [ Dammit, I just need to say this. Come on... ]
You don't always have to be the strong one. Keeping all of it together. [ It's cliche as hell, but we can do it together. Lean on each other. ] If I get out, I want to help you. Be there for you, instead of leaving you on your own, like...
[ Like I've done too many times already. Like others have done too many times already. She won't be alone if I can help it. It sounds ridiculous. Maybe she won't get what I'm saying.
Alan sounds breathless again, and he knows he's running out of words and strength both. Maybe his half-completed sentences won't make sense to her at all. ]
You're the reason I want to come home.
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She doesn't like it at all.
« Why can't he just stop for a few minutes? He NEEDS to stop. He needs to get his strength back so we can get back to work. Yes, we. Because we need to help him. Both of us, pathing out the story. Would he show us the manuscript he's been trying to edit? Return? Is it here? »
Her eyes drop back to him in his lap as he speaks. She is listening, even if she is conversing with Polaris. The expression she wears falls slightly as he continues on. Talking, stopping. Talking again. Stopping again. It's obvious that his body is telling him to just heal, but his mind won't stop.
Can she get him to stop and listen to what he needs?
Then, she feels as if everything in her mind comes to a screeching halt. Her heart stops. It feels as if it does anyways.
Be there for you, instead of leaving you on your own...
Something in her shakes at his words. From one extreme to the other--no movement then everything is moving. The foundations of the world she knows being changed. It's always just been her and Polaris. Against the world. Now, she has an entire department of the government behind her. People that rely on her, need her guidance. That alone shook her world view, but she knows what Alan means is even deeper than that.
A partner.
Not just romantically, or roommates, or two parautalitarians discovering what one another can do.
A pillar of support.
« God... he really is a master wordsmith. You don't need to use complicated words or fanciful sentences. Just, the right words with the right meaning. Maybe he's just figured me out... or maybe there's more to it than I want to admit. Admitting to more leaves me open. The more open, the more people come in... and they leave. »
You're the reason I want to come home.
Jesse pulls her bottom lip in and bites on it. Not hard enough to draw blood, but to a point where it's obvious she's trying not to let her emotions get the better of her. She knows he wants the open door to her emotions, but she can't do that. Not here in a hostile dimension. Maybe if they were in the Oceanview Motel, or back in Bright Falls... back in the apartment. Places where she felt it was safe to be exactly the way he's requested.
The hand on top of his curls further. Another tight grip--but only briefly--before she lowers her head and tilts it to the side. Some of her hair obscures her face. ]
You promised you'd come home. [ Her fingers move from between his to brushing along them. ] You can't do that unless you come home.
...So, you better keep your promise. [ Fingers slide back between his. Hopefully he understands that she is accepting his offer. ] You can't help me being stuck in this room.
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He watches Jesse closely, watching her movements, her expressions. She says so much with just her expressions that he believes he can at least guess at what she's thinking or feeling. He uses words to communicate, sometimes to the point that it feels like it's too many words, but Jesse doesn't operate that way. He loves that about her.
Will she think I'm crazy? No, I know she won't. Overstepping, maybe. Maybe she doesn't want a partner like that. But isn't that what partners do? Support each other? I was never very good at supporting Alice, and in the end... I let her down. I don't want to do that with Jesse. I won't.
Emotion settles into Alan's eyes, a look of regret, of wishing he could undo the past, and he shudders briefly as the weight of it all sinks down on him. He can't undo the past, but maybe he can have a different future- a better one. With Jesse.
If only he can just find the strength to get back up and do what he needs to do, what he's always needed to do: write the ending that will finally end all of this trouble, and finally let him come home.
But how can he do that? He's out of ideas, out of anything that might be useful. What kind of ending can he write that would solve all of these problems? His brow furrows in frustration, but then an idea comes to him... a long shot, but everything is a long shot.
His free hand moves as if reaching for something. It's out of reach from down here on the floor, but maybe Jesse can grab it for him: a manuscript that's been placed inside a desk drawer. ]
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Her hand remains around his as her head tilts to the side and her eyes clothes. Not asleep or resting. Just... being there under the warm light. Polaris' resonance continues to hum, that gentle vibration echoing through the floorboards of the attic room--attic room? Hadn't she gotten here through a cabin? It should just be a second floor room.
« I don't think I'll ever understand this place. Not that I want to. »
Polaris shifts, and Jesse feels as if her oldest friend finds it amusing. Maybe Alan can even pick up on that with how the resonance shimmers around Jesse.
Her eyes open once she feels him shift. Green eyes follow his hand as he lifts it and she frowns slightly.
« He really doesn't understand how to stop and rest. Does he? »
Jesse isn't sure what he's gesturing to at first. Polaris tugs at her mind and her head turns to look behind her at the desk. The resonance shimmers and Jesse's head cants to the side. With a spare glance she shifts, moving out from under Alan slowly and helping him move. She sets him sitting against the desk before she begins looking around it.
It takes a few guesses on which drawer both he and Polaris want her to look through. One drawer has just... shredded paper in it everywhere. Random phrases and words on different pieces. She frowns, not wanting to really know what each phrase is for or how it came to be. She can guess. Some fits of just breaking down before he returned to himself. Before he "met" her.
The next drawer has what he's looking for. A manuscript. "Return" by... the name is scratched out. Violently. With a pen. A sinking feeling fills her stomach as she realizes what she's holding. It's a few slow steps before she rejoins him at the front of the desk, sitting down cross legged beside him with the papers in her hands. Then, one hand raises and the pen from the desk flies into it comfortably.
Jesse looks up at him. ]
Did you want me to read it, or just get to work?
[ « Since he won't stop and insists on going.
» ]
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Maybe Alan's known all along that Jesse's time here is limited. It has to be. She can't stay, even if the last thing he wants is to say goodbye again. But she doesn't belong here; everything about her is in opposition to this place, to the way it works. It has him firmly in its grip, and he's lost a lot to it already, but he knows he won't see that happen to her. He won't let it latch onto her either.
But before she goes, he knows he needs one more thing from her. One more favor before they go their separate ways until the story puts them back together. If it does. She's not a writer, but she might still have ideas. And, well, she has a clearer head than Alan does. Hell, maybe even Polaris will be able to help. He sees that shimmering around Jesse and the sight of it makes him smile.
She'll be all right. Polaris will make sure of it. But she can't stay here too much longer.
When she slips out from beneath him and starts helping him move, he tries to be more than just almost dead weight so that she doesn't have to work harder than necessary. Once he's resting against the desk, his head tips back slightly but his eyes shift so he can still see her.
He knows what she'll find if she looks through the drawers: the one that's full of torn up pieces of paper, the result of several breakdowns that he's had when the pressure of everything becomes too much, and the one containing what he wants her to see. The manuscript. Return, complete with all the edits that he's made.
When she joins him again with the manuscript in hand, he tries to shift again so that he can see her better. He only manages to move an inch or two, but it's something. He shakes his head in response to her question; he's not ready to get back to work, as much as he knows he needs to. He just needs a little more time, knowing that a little is all he has. The light won't stay; Jesse herself can't stay. He just needs to take what he can get.
His eyes lock onto hers as best as he can manage. ]
Just- just read it. [ Again, there's no force behind it. It's not a command. She can say no if she doesn't want to. But he's hoping that if she reads it, she might get an idea that he can use. It's as much of a long shot as anything else he's tried on his own. But maybe this will actually have results. ] Read it, and- and if... if anything comes to you...
[ He stops again as that feeling of breathlessness returns. You'll tell me, right?
He completes the sentence in his head, eyes still fixed on hers, hoping she understands what he's asking for. ]
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A story she can't control. Being unable to support the man she's fallen in love with--even if he says she's helped. How can she be of help if he's still stuck here? Bringing him back to being awake is great, it's what she's wanted to do, but what will happen when she leaves? Will he be able to stay awake?
Or is he going to drown again? What if he drowns to the point she can't pull him back up?
« I know we'll need to leave. We can't stay here... even if there's a part of me that wants to stay with him. It's too dangerous for you. For me. We can't properly recover here. And, Alan won't want us here. Not for much longer. It's the one thing he never wanted to have happen, but Door and his message... we ended up coming anyways. »
Her gaze lifts to his once he speaks again. Alan has most likely caught on to when she is speaking with Polaris. He's been around her so many times that he's had to notice. Learned when she speaks to her oldest friend and for how long.
A slow nod to his request.
Then, her eyes move to the manuscript in her hands.
She turns the title page and begins to read.
The edits Alan have made are obvious to her. Even if she hadn't seen the page where he wrote them back into the last loop? She can tell what is him and what's Scratch. Reading all the Alex Casey books certainly helped with that. Spending time with him has been the biggest way she has grown to notice it. Just, knowing him and his mind.
Jesse falls silent, but Polaris continues to hum, naturally coexisting with the Light brought by the Diver. She wishes that hum could help soothe her nerves as she turns the pages. The expression on her face turns ever so slightly to horror bit by bit. Then, it picks up speed. Everything Saga had faced and dealt with.
« No wonder she was so angry at Alan. »
Her hands come to a stop after some time. She stops at the point in which they would have crossed paths. Alan taken by the FBC, Saga going her own way to solve personal mysteries. She can tell the page with them reuniting would have fit right here... but it's not, because she has it. Safe keeping or something. Her finger taps idly on the pen before turning one page back and gently writing in the tip of the corner:
Faden and Sevastopol enter here. Been held up trying to get things in order for the fights to come. Faden sends Estevez to bring Wake to the station. Preparations already made. Faden and Wake meet. Reunite---if Wake wants the page back. — EDIT: J.F.
She draws a few arrows to it to make it stand out. In case he forgets any of this ever happened.
Jesse glances up at him before handing him the page and then moving to the following ones. A small note is made on a handful of them, where to put her and Steve, how to have them interwoven at key points to try and bolster Alan and Saga's chances at success.
Faden and Saga here. Make sure Saga has help remembering it's been looping. She KNOWS. Faden reminded her in a loop before. — EDIT: J.F.
Another page. A new chapter. Her heart sinks and for a moment all she does is stare at the page.
RETURN 8 - SUMMONING.
« This is where he died last time. Saga got him to take out Scratch. It's where I failed to save him--to be the hero. Maybe, I'm not supposed to be the hero, even though it's what Alan wants. The story already has a hero--Saga. I'm clashing with that role because Alan wants me in it. Maybe... maybe I'm the hero for him as who he is: Alan Wake. Not the hero of Return. »
Jesse slowly turns the page again and writes in the next corner:
Faden and Sevastopol here. Saga is the main focus. Faden gives back up power with her guiding star to Estevez and Casey. Sevastopol is back up for Saga. Cover her blind spots. — EDIT: J.F.
Polaris shimmers. That's enough for now. This is as far as Alan has gotten. They can't make anymore edits because the Writer doesn't know where the story goes from here. He'll have to take the threads left and weave them in from this point on. However, Polaris has a suggestion. She shifts.
Jesse frowns and makes one more note.
Ask for Saga's help to finish the ending. — EDIT: J.F.
For a moment, she simply sits there with the manuscript in her lap.
Then, she neatly places it back in order and sets it to his other side so he can go through it when he has the strength. Physically and mentally. The story is a monster, and he's been fighting with it for so long by himself. Do her little suggestions really help that much for his mind?
She lifts a hand to rest on his cheek. Their eyes meet and Jesse leans in to kiss him again. A gentle one with enough pressure to simply let him know she's there. She'll be here in some way or fashion for him, even when she's forced to go back home to their reality.
« This is the first time I've really kissed him... isn't it? When he's wide awake. » ]
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For the briefest of moments, he focuses on the humming, the resonance from Polaris. Of course he knows that she and her receiver are talking. They probably always talk. Or it's more like a running commentary, a give and take between the two. He doesn't want to interrupt, but this is important.
Polaris, if you can hear me... please take care of her. I know you always do; I want to help too, but I just can't right now. I won't be there to help in the way I wish I could.
He has to stop or his emotions really will spill over, and he can't let that happen right now. It doesn't matter how raw inside he feels, or how much he dreads it when their respective circumstances finally pull them away from each other. If he's bleeding inside now, it's nothing compared to how he'll feel when she steps through that door and goes back to reality where she belongs.
Alan's eyes close then as Jesse reads. He doesn't want to see her reactions as she reads the story. There'll be a look of horror, he's certain. Horror, disgust, fear... she might even throw down the manuscript and refuse to read more. He wouldn't blame her for that in the least. How many times has he wanted to do just that? To throw it away, to tear it apart. His edits have changed it, but he couldn't go as far as destroying it. Once made, the story has to be used as written.
How can I use this? I have to use it, I know that, but how? What ending will satisfy the terms of the story and bring it to an end in a way that gets everyone what they want? I can't see it, I can't see the ending. Scratch isn't how he was, in the draft that didn't work. I can't burn him out with a film and flood lamps. That won't work this time. What do I do? What the hell do I do?
I can't think. I don't know what to do. What if this story never ends?
He very nearly groans aloud again but he just barely manages to hold it in. He doesn't want to worry her more than he already has.
I want to be there for her, to be there with her, but I can't see a way out. What if there never was a way out? I'll never be free. I lost the plot.
While Jesse's reading and making her notes, Alan's head has slipped forward into his hands. He doesn't remember moving his hands, but he just sits there, head in hands.
Some hero I am. I never was a hero. Saga and Jesse, they're the heroes. They could finish this in no time at all, if they were the ones in this position instead of me. What was I thinking? I should have known then that I'd never be free.
His hands fall away from his head again when he registers her putting the manuscript to the side. He's still exhausted, still hurt, but he can't stay like this forever. There's work to do. There's no time for him to be like this. There's no time for the thoughts that sound dangerously close to how he sounds when he's drowning. He can't drown. Not anymore. Not now. Jesse stopped him from drowning. Saved him. He can't go back and dive into the water again.
I won't.
She places her hand on his cheek, and his eyes, tired look and all, shift to lock with hers. He's awake. Not asleep. Not drowning. If she's gone tomorrow, or whatever passes as tomorrow in this place, he wants to remember this. He doesn't want to remember drowning, or being asleep, or being lost. He wants to remember her. How her hand on his face feels. How her lips on his lips feels.
He might not have much strength in him right now, but he has just enough to lean into the kiss. I'm really going to miss this. I'll miss her. ]
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Both hands settle on the sides of his face. She presses the kiss further into him as he leans forward. Magic kisses that wake princesses don't exist, so she doubts it would give him strength. It may not even be comforting to him anymore. She feels as if he's so far away despite being next to her and being awake.
« Why does it feel like nothing I do helps? He's awake now. He's himself. But, it feels worse than ever now. Like it's hopeless--like he's hopeless. Has he given up on the story? On us? Me and you. Me and him. »
Her forehead presses to his. ]
I know... that I'm not the greatest at any of this. At words... at people... at being with someone. [ Jesse's gaze drops from his. She frowns hard, eyebrows coming together as she tries to lock her emotions down. ] I hear everything you say. Everything you tell me. When you speak, or when you send messages on the Hotline, or even in the manuscript pages. I listen to everything. Even if--even if I don't know what to say or what to do to show that.
[ Her eyes close as her fingers curl against his beard. ] I want you in the room with me. You can help me ....a-and I'll get you through anything you need. So, don't give up yet.
Please.
[ Forehead presses to his once more before she kisses him again. ]
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I'm awake, but I'm still lost. Still in the dark. But that shouldn't be a surprise. I'm not out, I'm just... myself. How long has it been since I could say that? It doesn't matter. What matters is that she woke me up. Jesse helped me wake up. That's what I need to focus on.
He can't explain the feeling that's stirring inside him, but it's a feeling of warmth, of being alive. The Dark Place is cold and harsh and completely devoid of warmth, but as Alan rests in the light, he feels himself starting to warm up a little at a time. Life is slowly coming back to him, and maybe it'll be stolen away from him again soon enough, but for right now, he's clinging stubbornly to it. ]
Jesse, stop. You're- [ He pauses, surprised at the sudden strength in his voice. It's not complete, as he's still very tired, but he sounds stronger than he did just a few minutes ago. ] You're everything. You're strong, and beautiful, and you don't have to be anything but you.
[ He loves the girl from Ordinary. He loves the girl who became the Director. But he knows he loves the girl the most. He loves Jesse, knowing that the titles, the powers, it's all part of her. It all makes up the girl from Ordinary who's anything but ordinary. But he likes it when he gets to see that girl, when she decides that she trusts him enough to let him see her. ]
I- [ If they're confessing things to each to each other, even if that's not what Jesse's intending to do here, there's only one thing Alan can say. He's listening to her, of course, hearing everything she's telling him. But he knows what he needs to say in return. ] I love you. I love when you let me see the you beneath the Director. I love you as the Director, but I love... I love you when you're being you.
[ He's aware that he's rambling, but he wants to emphasize the fact that he really loves who she is apart from the Director. Maybe the two parts of her are so closely intertwined now, but he thinks he can still see the difference.
The longer he talks, the stronger he feels. That feeling of hopelessness seems to be fading the more he talks. His eyes close too, but not because of exhaustion. Strangely, that seems to be fading to the background too as he slowly begins to feel more like himself.
His lips turn up into a smile as he feels her fingers curling against his beard. For reasons he hardly understands, he likes how that feels, to have her touching his face, his beard, wherever she decides to place her hands. ]
I'm not giving up. Maybe I was before, but- I won't. I'm not.
[ I have to remember this somehow. I don't want to go back to sleep. Will I remember this when she finally leaves? I don't care what I have to do, I need to remember this... Please let me remember this.
He leans into the kiss again, and he returns it, almost hungrily, with a feeling of need he didn't know he was capable of having. Maybe the deeper the kiss and the more they give into their passions, the better the odds are of him remembering this. Maybe. He hopes he manages to hold onto something from this, somehow. ]
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The plan was not to do confessions. She only wanted him to know what she felt she failed at sharing--and continues to fail at sharing. Though, it seems that Alan wants to return the notion. Not that she thinks he fails at expressing anything. Master wordsmith, author, writer, best selling novelist. They all mean the same thing: he can express himself. He's the exact opposite of her.
« How can he stand someone so opposite of him? »
That vulnerable and flustered look comes to her eyes.
I love you when you're being you. I'm not giving up. Maybe I was before, but- I won't. I'm not.
It makes her heart pound faster. Part of her worries that in the turn of a hat he'll be back to talking about giving up, or being too tired, and she has no idea how to keep him steady on one emotional path. Maybe there is no real way to do it and she's just hoping against something out of his control. It could be the scars left on him from the Dark Place.
She'll keep trying regardless. She doesn't give up on people.
This kiss she returns with absolutely no hesitation, unlike before when she stepped into the Writer's Room. His level of hunger is only matched by her own. The notions are not unfamiliar to her as they've experienced it before. Though, it may feel different for him now that he's awake. She can feel the difference in how he moves. He's quicker, more attentive, aware. It causes a particular shiver to move up her spine.
Part of her wants to lean into the kiss to the point where she is the one resting against him. Using him as support--as he wants to be for her. He's not strong enough to yet. She has to be the pillar of strength still. Around one constant they revolve.
It just makes her own need and hunger in the kiss grow. ]
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He never meant for any of this to happen; he never meant for Saga to be swept up in it, or to have her family threatened by the darkness. Casey wasn't supposed to be drawn into the story either, and whether or not the two FBI agents were pulled in because of Alan or because the Dark Place took control and wrote the story instead of him, he won't let himself dodge what is clearly his responsibility to fix.
But he'd be lying if he said that the support and care Jesse's given him is part of what's keeping him going. She doesn't have to even actively help with fixing the story. Just being there with him like she has helps. After all, he's awake now because of her. He's certain he wouldn't have achieved that on his own.
He feels he has to thank her, but how can he do that? He kisses her again, leaning into it with all the strength he can manage, because it's not just that he wants to kiss her. He wants to be the pillar of strength for her too, even though, more often than not, he's hardly in the position to be anything resembling strength. Maybe when he's fighting off Taken, but what about the rest of the time?
It's hard to explain why he feels inadequate when compared to Jesse, but- those feelings remain however hard he tries to shake them off. So instead of dwelling on them, he circles his arms around her and tries to summon up enough strength to pull her in, closer to him. He doesn't trust himself yet to not topple over if she leans against him too much, but he wants to at least try. ]
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She presses her forehead to his as the kiss comes to an end. She slowly opens her eyes, searching his to see what to do next. She's edited what she thinks she can. He probably has certain pages that he wants her to look at. They need to get to work.
Part of her, however, just wants to sink into his arms.
That part of her that is reeling from seeing Saga fire a bullet into his head. The part that broke down sobbing at seeing his dead body hit the beach. It was hard enough to see Dylan be taken away; to see Ordinary turned on its head. It was horrifying to see Hedron die and feel that she had lost Polaris forever. Nothing else has felt like the Hiss clawing into her head and forcing her to be apart of them, erasing her down bit by bit. Seeing Alan die though... suddenly, with no way to stop it? She felt powerless. Horrified. Scared. Broken. Every single moment she's lived through wrapped up in one bullet hitting it's target.
She's not angry at Saga, she doesn't hate the woman. It all makes sense. A sick twisted sort of sense that only this horror story could produce. A single bullet from the hero to kill the monster inhabiting the person who too should be a hero. Jesse can't hold anything against Saga for it.
Maybe that's the worst part.
Her gaze drops before her eyes close once more and she presses her forehead to his. He doesn't need to know how much it's hurt. It'll just make him feel worse about the story. Worse about putting them back in. For now, it might just be best to be silent until he's ready to speak again. ]
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But then, he decides that maybe she doesn't have to tell him. He'd prefer it if she did, but maybe whatever it is that's bothering her doesn't have to be spoken about. Maybe it's for the best that it isn't, even though he'd rather hear it so he can help shoulder the load. And considering how all of this horror originates with him, it's even more reason for him to feel responsible.
He won't dodge the responsibility for it, when everything about this is his fault. Finally, he decides to throw caution to the winds. He's never been the most cautious man, and he doesn't want to be that right now.
He might pay for this later, or the Dark Presence might stop him, but he's not thinking about that. All he's thinking about is Jesse. She's worth any fight, any discomfort... she's worth everything. Muscles protest and joints start to ache, but Alan refuses to pay them any mind. Jesse deserves a partner who can be strong for her even when things are hard, and he's resolved to be that partner, whatever it takes.
His arms curl around her more, in what he hopes is a protective, supportive embrace. It takes some work to keep the strain out of his voice, but he thinks he manages it as well as possible. ]
Jesse. [ His eyes are still locked on hers as he chooses what to say. He has to choose the right words, or she might close herself off from him. He doesn't want that. He wants to help her like she's helped him. Apologizing for what he's put her through will push her away. She's told him in so many words that she doesn't want his apologies. She wants him to stop saying he's sorry, even though he is.
He slides a hand against her face, using the other one to both hold her and to ground himself, and he quietly asks: ] What is it? I can tell something's bothering you. Whatever it is, you can tell me.
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Jesse raises her eyes to his once more once he speaks her name. Her eyebrows knit together for a brief moment before glancing down again. It's not only a matter of not wanting to share it--how does she? How can she put it into words? Alan operates on words, she operates on actions.
She leans into his hold and is silent for a stretch of time. Hopefully he can read her and tell that it's not that she's avoiding answering him. It's a matter of trying to answer him in a way that makes sense and won't lead to her crying.
Again. ]
Don't die again. [ A short phrase, but she's not sure she can put it into something else without her voice breaking--without her breaking down. ] I don't want... I shouldn't ask you for anything else in the story. Make demands. But--if you do, then...
[ « Then "us" being in the story doesn't matter. This won't matter. He'll be dead in reality and there won't be an "us." It'll just be someone else I let down. Someone else I failed. I can't save everyone, but, why can't I save the people that matter most? »
Jesse just shakes her head at herself before turning her head away with a frown. Berating herself for even saying it. He asked, but, she shouldn't have said it. He's done enough by putting a loop hole in for them to even happen. She shouldn't ask for him to make further changes. Not when he has to accommodate for so much already.
Then, a slight shift in the Writer's Room. One that only Alan could pick up on.
Two orbs of opposite colors appear. Once they align?
A vision.
A silhouette of a woman appear, as it's always in such a way. Standing in what looks like a cave with red sand. A large pillar is in front of her.
『 Head of Bureau Operations. The Hiss got in. The Foundation is overrun. I was out of time and out of options. I took all the C4 I could get my hands on and strapped it to the Nail. Boom.
Two birds, one bomb. Christ, what a mess. But I stopped the Hiss. I did it. If Faden did her part then the Bureau is safe, until the next thing. 』
The woman fades and reappears further in the Writer's Room, gun on her shoulder, head tilted up toward the pillar.
『 Jesse has good reason to hate the Bureau. But that could be what we need right now. She won't follow the same path, won't fall into the same traps. She'll lead her way. 』
She fades once more, facing the door. The letters of "FBC" can be seen on her back.
『 So, Director Faden, here's my last lesson:
You can't save everybody. 』
The light around the woman turns a brilliant red. Muttering can be heard filling the room as the silhouette turns black. The woman begins to glow an eerie blood red.
『 You are a worm through time. The thunder song distorts you. Happiness comes. White pearls, but yellow and red in the eye. Through a mirror, inverted is made right. Leave your insides by the door... 』
The vision folds in on itself and disappears. ]
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