synthneon | oceanview || ❝ i must guide my love through the night. ❞

oceanview || ❝ i must guide my love through the night. ❞

OCEANVIEW II

into the dark, dark, dark.

I’m fighting to save my love somеhow
I cannot feel her by my side
Even in this placе inside my mind CODE BY TESSISAMESS

[ « He's here. Here, in Bright Falls. He's here somewhere. Can you find him? »

Jesse Faden presses her nuckles to her lips. It's still early evening. They have a handful of hours before the sun sets. That is plenty of time to find their missing writer and prepare for whatever terrors are in the night.

She's in her tacticle gear--ready for a fight.

This loop has been drastically different. They were never tipped off that Anderson and Casey found Alan. Maybe they hadn't found him yet. The monitoring site was a disaster the moment she and Steve arrived. "Racoons", they said. There were multiple alerts about the active AWE. Estevez went ahead to investigate while Jesse and Steve did what they could to fortify the site.

Then, she felt him. Or, Polaris did and told her.

Alan Wake was in Bright Falls.

She remembered the first loop--what she could anyways. Their relationship, the fact it was written out of the story. Now, she hopes Alan kept true to his promise and wrote it back into this version. It's so different that maybe he did...

Steve cuts the engine outside the Sheriff Station. Estevez had sent word that they had set up there. Jesse wastes no time exiting the rental, slamming the door shut, and pushing her way into the double doors.

« He really is here. Where? » ]

Director Faden. We have the situation under control. Lights outside with power, a black rock holding cell. It's not protocol, but with the limited resources--

Where is he? You took a parautalitarian into custody, didn't you? Alan Wake. Where did you put him?

[ Estevez blinks as she is cut off and looks to Steve as he enters the building. He pulls the aviators off and shakes his head. The new director will just know things, and apparently, the Polaris Resonance hasn't made its way down the chain. ]

Yes, I mean. We did find and confirm him at the site of the Motel here in town. The Cult of the Tree attacked, Wake was in the forest outside. We have the two leaders of the Cult here too. They're beside him. Director Faden. We've got this covered.

Where. Is. He? [ Jesse catches a shimmer beyond the door. Without waiting for directions, Jesse is pushing the door to the holding cells open.

Steve sighs and shakes his head . He's going to be the one to catch up the field agents on everything. He takes a look around, then gestures with a nod of his head. ]

Got any coffee? I'll go over the basics, Estevez. Which, reminds me. We brought something with us from the Oldest House for everyone...

[ Jesse immediately rounds the corner and sees the three occupied ones. She ignores the first two grumbling pacing people, muttering about the Cult and their job. A glance is spared at them, but her attention is more on the cell that Polaris shimmers towards. In a few almost instant steps she's there at the front.

He's sitting on the bed provided in the cell. Head in his hands. Long hair, beard. Jesse feels her heartbeat skip. Then, it speeds up.

He's really here.

How long has it been since they actually met in person? The Motel is one thing. Messages sent through dimensions is another. This, though, feels so, so different.

Her hands curl around the bars and she leans against the cell doors. She doesn't say anything at first, not wanting to rattle him. Instead, she rests her forehead on the bars and waits. The moment passes into two, then three.

Finally, she speaks up: ]

What did they get you for? Speeding? Jay walking? Oh, flannel out of season?

[ « A joke. That's a good start. »

The two men in the cell next door make biting remarks under their breathe. She sends them a pinned glare. It makes the louder one straighten up and the quiet one rinse his eyebrows. She turns her attention back to Alan. ]

Edited 2023-11-01 22:03 (UTC)

[ Where are they? I know I wrote them into the story again. I promised. I know they have to be here.

Alan remembers that being one of his last conscious thoughts before everything went to hell and he was dragged along with it. What else was he doing before the whole world went black? Casey was somewhere, and Alan needed to find him. The cultists were dead. He wore bloodstained flannel. The woods seemed to be reacting, recoiling... recoiling from the looming darkness?

And then the path lead him to a bridge, but as soon as he set foot on it, the pressure in his head increased. He fought, he wrestled with it, tried to keep his fragile hold on his sanity, but in the end, it all failed. He fell, head striking the ground hard, and all went black.

He doesn't remember being dragged from where he was found and brought to a holding cell in the sheriff's station. He doesn't remember the agents depositing him onto a bed inside the cell. He doesn't remember anything but the hell inside his head. Even unconsciousness doesn't spare him from harrowing, horrifying nightmares.

It's black inside his mind, and he's lost in the dark. Not just lost: blind. Fumbling for an exit that doesn't exist. A face, terrifying and evil appears before him: blood around his mouth and on his teeth. Scratch. He bares his teeth and lurches closer to Alan.

Alan jerks on the bed inside the cell, but the nightmare isn't over yet. I'm better at being you then you ever were. I'll take your life, take everything you have. Everything you ever wanted. Friends? They're mine. Love? That's mine too. It's all mine. You'll have nothing by the time I'm done.

Bared teeth come closer, and Alan feels a sharp pain, as if teeth have connected with flesh. The nightmares have turned Scratch into a monster that relishes the taste of blood and the feel of flesh. Not a silly vampire from a dramatic novel. The pain increases as the teeth sink deeper. Alan screams, and in the cell, his eyes fly open.

The Koskela brothers laugh at the man locked in the cell. They laugh as Alan gasps, hands flying to either side of his throbbing head. He doesn't know what time it is, doesn't know how long it takes for his panic to fade into something less sharp, less cutting. The pain in his head doesn't go away, but eventually, Alan regains enough of his senses to be able to sit up in the cell.

Where are they? Where are they!? He can't- he can't have gotten them too. Did he change the story? Did he take them out, when I wrote them in? ...Are they dead? God, please tell me they're not dead.

Time seems to continue slipping on by with Alan still being unaware of the passage of time. It feels like hours, and maybe it is. He's dimly aware of the men in the cell next door pacing around, grumbling, sometimes throwing jabs at him. None of it seems to matter. Alan doesn't move from where he's sitting.

Sometimes other voices register in his mind. Voices he doesn't know. The sheriff, maybe. But there's other voices, new ones: a man and another woman. The man sounds friendly, but resigned. The woman sounds tense. On edge. Alan can relate.

Then there's the sound of a creaking door and approaching footsteps. Alan still doesn't lift his head from his hands. Whoever's coming, it can't mean anything good. Is "good" even a concept in the world anymore? Everything feels like horror and death, corruption and loss of control... and blood. So much blood. The blood has soaked into Alan's flannel shirt, and the metallic smell is enough to make him sick. Maybe he'll never forget how nauseating the scent of clothes soaked in blood can be.

Someone's approaching. The steps are resolute but not heavy. Somewhere between light and heavy. Where are they?

Slowly, so very slowly, Alan's head lifts from his hands. He sees someone standing at the bars, hands curled around them, and forehead coming to rest against them. Wait. He sees a flash of red hair, and his breath leaves him in an instant. He knows that voice. It's the voice he hears in his mind sometimes. Memories. Dreams? What's the difference between a memory and a dream? ]

.... Jesse?

[ She's here. She's safe. Relief washes over him in spite of himself, and for a moment, he forgets about everything that led him here. He forgets he's in a cell covered in blood. Forgets the pounding in his head. He smiles, and it probably looks unsettling, given his rough appearance, but at least it's a smile. ]

It was definitely the flannel. [ The comment earns him a few more derogatory words from the men in the cell next door, but he ignores them. He's just glad to see her: the closest thing here to a friendly face. ]

[ If she had heard that particular narration, she would of said her face had better be friendly after everything. The loops are still fractured memories, but she remembers their time crossing in other ways. Messages, the dreamlike Motel. Something tells her that she would of remembered even if Alan didn't write it into the story. It's one of those things she would fight his story about.

The expression in her jaw and face says the Director of the Federal Bureau of Control except her eyes. That fond smile only he gets is shinning brightly there. Something he should be able to pick up immediately on after their---well, time together. Maybe it comes off as unnerving or clashing to see the controlled woman speaking in her body language, but, she imagines it can't be. Not when he's a best selling novelist. ]

It's seen better days. [ She nods to the shirt... under shirt... everything he's wearing. ] I'm guessing it's not from rolling in the hay at pre-Deerfest festivities.

[ « He looks like hell. What the hell is happening in this AWE? It's different--I mean, different enough. He's usually covered in mud or soaking wet. Not... Taken don't leave blood behind. »

Her expression falls slightly as she is about to ask him something else before Ilmo Koskela smacks his hand on the bars. Jesse's gaze moves over to him, even if her head doesn't move from resting on the bars.

« Wait, THEY'RE the leaders of the Cult? The brothers with the ridiculous commercials? Damn. They were funny too. » ]

You better step the fuck away if you know what's good for you. You can't TRUST that sonovabitch! He's gonna kill you! All of us! [ Ilmo jabs his hand through his cell and points directly at Alan. ] Go tell those government fucks to let us out and let us finish the job. He dies, it all stops!

Illmo's right. [ The quieter brother pitches in. ] It's his fault. If you don't put a bullet in him then we will.

[ Jesse's eyes move back to Alan. Her expression doesn't change, but she seems to ask him something along the lines of "What the hell have you been doing?" without asking. She pushes herself up from the bars and door, fingers moving to the lock. She doesn't need the key to get out. Not when she can cheat a little bit with her powers. That and she may have forgotten to ask Estevez for the key. Her tunnel vision on finding him kicked in, just like it had for Dylan. ]

I hope you're in good enough condition to walk, Wake. I'm moving you. [ Another quick glance is given upwards, making direct eye contact with him. She has to be the Director, and hopes he doesn't take it personally or the wrong way. It's just until she can get him somewhere else. Somewhere with more light. ] I'm going to override and say keeping you next to the two cult leaders is a bad choice.

Are you fuckin' stupid, woman? [ Ilmo slams against the cell door as Jesse motions for Alan to walk over to the door as it unlocks. ] Did you not hear a single word we just said? He's gonna kill us all if you let him out and don't let us take care of this! You ain't a local, and you ain't a fed, so who the hell are you to decide what happens in our town?!

[ Jesse keeps her hands on the door of Alan's cell and keeps it shut with her powers. A long breath comes from her. One more glance is sent up to Alan before her head turns to the two crowing brothers. Her gaze is piercing and calculating again, looking each one of them over. She can't profile like Anderson, and she's damn well not a cop, but she can be just as intimidating when she wants to be.

At least, she thinks she seems that way. ]

The both of you are under arrest for suspicion of paracriminality, breaking not only natural laws of the way things function, but purposely causing it. If I were you two? I'd shut the hell up before you say something very stupid to the Director of the agency that has you under lock and key. [ She turns to the two cells as if to accentuate her point. The brothers stand straight and stare in disbelief that well--someone as young and not federal looking is who she claims to be. ] Let me see if I understand this. You two lead a local cult, suspected of murders that turn people into shadowed individuals. Ones with no will, no mind, and all their humanity carved out. They run rampant in the middle of the night and kill others. And now, you're claiming it's all Mr. Wake's fault, and that if I don't let you kill him, he's going to kill us.

You do realize that sounds absurd to someone who deals with this shit every day? [ She nods to the doors. ] I'd suggest you step back before you make an even worse impression on me. Now, shut up. Last warning.

[ Jesse looks back at Alan with a slight apologetic look on her face. Not for the display, but for what she'll have to do next. She's still the Director. She has to make sure people around her safe--especially when they don't really know what the hell is going on with him. All the field agents know is that he's a parautalitarian and quite possibly the cause of what's going on. She needs to make sure everyone feels safe--even if she knows none of them really are.

She swings the door open and pulls out a pair of handcuffs. Pure black in color, and obviously not standard use. She motions for him to give up his hands and gently cuffs him. Then, with one more apologetic glance upwards, she gestures with her head for him to walk with her. A hand curls in the blood soaked flannel sleeve and she starts to guide him from the holding cells even with the brothers crowning on.

« Remind me later that they're not as funny as I thought they were. »

Jesse holds up her other hand when Estevez suddenly jumps from her seat at the sight of Alan out of his cell. ] I've got it handled, Estevez. Calm down. Get the rest of the supplies together and set up. Sevastopol? Instruct Estevez and her team how to set up a Control Point. I'll do the finishing touches later.

[ Steve gives a low whistle and a smirk. ] "Sevastopol"? I guess that means the boss is in--ow!

[ Estevez turns her head as Steve rubs the back of his head and chuckles. Jesse glares at him for the moment, but understands what he means without really saying it. She gently guides him down the hall to the Sheriff's Office. A location that Alan should know well, but, Jesse wouldn't be aware of that fact. Her mind is on the fact that it might be one of the brightest rooms in the whole facility and sundown is a few hours away.

She closes the door behind them and guides him to the couch. Then, she unclicks the cuffs and slides them back into the pocket of her tactical vest. She then grabs a stool with wheels and quietly sits down in front of him. Her eyes look over his wrists at first to make sure the cuffs didn't leave a mark, then, they raise back up to his.

« God, he really does look like hell. What happened? I'll ask that later. He... looks like he just needs a minute. Or an hour. I think we can do that. Let's start out small. »

Polaris shifts in agreement. Then, for the first time in the span of the last few minutes, she shimmers. Just to reach out to the torchbearer briefly.

She gives him a small smile and not with just her eyes this time. Her hands hang between her knees as elbows go on her knees. She hunches over so she can speak quietly, just between the two of them. Not that she thinks he'll really be able to talk much. He seems lucid, unlike so many other loops, but she's not entirely sure just yet.

At least he's saying her first name now. ]

Hi.

[ Alan stares at her through the cell bars, watching her. Taking in all of her features all over again. The red hair. The greenish eyes. The way her jaw slides to one side when she talks or is thinking. He sees the Director standing there, but he also sees Jesse. The way her eyes have lit up makes Alan feel warmer, as if he's being bathed in the light from them, even though the cell is dark.

The cell is dark. It makes Alan's skin crawl, and his gaze shifts to one side as if looking behind him to ensure that there's nothing lurking in the dark with him. When he sees nothing there, he shifts again, returning his gaze to look at Jesse through the bars. ]

Deerfest... Deerfest festivities. [ The words slide off Alan's tongue normally, but the meaning behind them is lost on him. ] There won't be a Deerfest this year, not if- if things keep going the way they are. It's my fault. His fault. [ The cult's fault. But I wrote the cult in, didn't I? Or did he do that? Does it matter? The cult is here.

Alan is about to say something more when Ilmo slams his hand against the bars, causing him to jump almost out of his skin. Jesse might not have moved away from the bars, but Alan's taken a step back. And then the floodgates from the two brothers open, and with each word, it becomes clear that it's having an effect on the writer. One hand slides up to the side of his head, and the other blindly takes hold of the cell bars in front of him.

If you don't put a bullet in him then we will. Alan's hand curls tighter around the bars, turning the skin of his fingers white from the pressure. Put a bullet in me, I'm done. But I can't be done. I have to keep writing. I know what happens if I stop. He gets in. He creates the horror.

His gaze shifts again as some semblance of awareness returns, and he sees the pointed look in Jesse's eyes, and the unspoken question there. When she finds out, what will she think? ]

You're... moving me? It's- It isn't safe. He could come back. Could come to find me, and you'll all be in danger. [ Never mind that the danger never stops, not really. ] Don't you think I should stay here?

[ The sound Ilmo makes as he slams against the cell door causes Alan to jump again. The darkness of the holding cells and his rattled nerves are really starting to get to him. He sees the way that Jesse is looking at him, how she pins him with a direct stare. She's doing something. Planning something. And he needs to go along with it. Luckily for them both, he trusts her. She's shown him he can trust her, and then some.

He ducks his head briefly as another diatribe spills out from Ilmo. And then he hears Jesse's response, another flood of words, and certain words from both of them cause Alan to flinch and recoil. "Shadowed individuals." "He's gonna kill us all." "Humanity carved out." "It's all Mr. Wake's fault." "Now, shut up."

It isn't until he spots the cuffs in Jesse's hand that Alan understands the reason for the look of apology she's giving him. Inwardly, he's shrinking back. Outwardly, he tries to appear unaffected. It doesn't quite work, but he knows what she's doing. It's necessary. He's a danger. The people here don't trust him, and why should they?

With that thought in his head, he raises his hands so she can put the cuffs on him. And at her gesture, he follows her, only occasionally stumbling here and there when uncertainty tugs at his mind. His gaze travels down to where her hand is curled into the blood-soaked fabric of his sleeve. How can she touch me? Can't she see the blood? How could she miss it? It's everywhere.

The blood is on his hands and on his face, flecks of it clinging to his beard. Even the briefest glimpses that Alan gets of it is enough to cause a recoil. And just when he thought he couldn't be more traumatized. The stakes are always raising, and the effects on him seem to grow all the time. But he clings to one simple thought: Jesse is here. She'll have a plan. Guidance. She'll know what to do, even if Alan doesn't.

He stays silent throughout the brief exchange with Estevez and Steve. Steve's safe too. Good. As safe as anyone can be, I mean. But then they're moving again, and Alan quietly follows Jesse down the hall. He knows where they're going. He's gone this way before too.

She guides him a few steps more to the couch in the room, and he sinks into it, even though a warning goes off in his mind that he'll get blood on the couch. It's too late for that, most likely. Maybe most of the blood has dried. He sits still as she removes the cuffs, aware of her perusal as she examines his wrists and then looks to meet his gaze.

What now? Another interview? I know she has questions. He tries to smile in return, but it's a ghost of the smiles he's given her before. He's with her, not spiraling too much yet, but it really feels like he's holding on by barely a thread. Maybe talking to her will restore some of those lost threads. She has that effect on him, somehow. ]

Hey. [ At least he can respond, right? Right. ] It's been... it's been a little while. [ His left hand shifts to grasp the sleeve with two fingers, pinching the flannel between them. ]

...You're going to interview me again, aren't you? [ He knows the routine by now. Somehow. ] How many times have we done this? I've- I've kind of lost track.

[ "There won't be a Deerfest this year." "It's my fault. His fault." "You'll all be in danger."

The more he speaks, the more notes she makes in her mind. Maybe she would have asked what he meant at one point. Except he's jumping at every sound in the darkened cells, and his knuckles are turning white at every jab the brothers are sending at him. The little details haven't escaped her notice. She may not be a novelist or a writer, but she knows Alan. At least well enough to see the little details coming out about his behavior. She can tell when he's being washed away, when something truly frightens him, and when he's just being an asshole.

Right now it seems he's left frightened behind a few days ago.

She wouldn't call it having a plan. Can she have more than what the architecture of the AWE gives her? Jesse feels she has something vague like a plan. Things she has put together over all the memories she's managed to maintain this time around. Things she's learned through Alan's trial and error, and things through her multiple failed attempts to reach him in the Dark Place.

« If anything? We'll have a base of operations. It's not full proof. We'd need more power... more light... but I guess we can provide the power if needed. We probably will. Would you be willing to do that? »

Polaris shifts.

« I thought you'd say that. »

The handcuffs are made of black rock. The idea is to trap a parautalitarian's powers. Jesse knows his doesn't work like that, but no one else does, so it was a move entirely of comfort for them. If she had the option? She would have walked him out of the cell blocks holding his hand. They don't have that luxury when everyone knows that Alan caused the AWE in 2010 and has most likely caused the one they're all living through at the moment. Regardless, that's why she had checked his wrists. She wanted to make sure the cuffs hadn't damaged or hurt him in any way. ]

Has it--I mean. I guess. [ Jesse shakes her head lightly. He would know better than her. Dreams and the in between loops all blends together for her. Though, given he's the one writing the story? He'd be the one to know how long it's been.

Her gaze drops only to follow his fingers pinching the flannel between them. She knows that habit. He's trying to keep from losing it. Maybe because of the dark cell, or the fact he's been through only God knows what in the forest. Even the brothers got under his skin. Maybe it's all of it.

« What has this loop been like for him? We usually cross paths much sooner. Almost at the start of it all. So, why was it so late this time? Did he figure something out? I'd ask, but... he doesn't seem to remember everything here in our reality like he does in the Motel. That's part of the story though. He can't know where it's going while he's in it. Just like everyone else. »

She pauses.

« Did he worry about not finding us sooner? Or, is it just me? »

His question snaps her from her thoughts with Polaris. She sits up right, eyebrows coming together, looking at him as if he's proposed the silliest idea she's ever heard. ]

What? No. [ She shakes her head lightly, causing the loose hair to bounce off her cheeks. ] I lost count of how many times we have--but, no. No. I wasn't going to at all. Why? I already know the answers you gave me countless times.

[ Jesse hesitates for a moment. ] I...

[ « How can I say it without sounding ridiculous? More than I already am around him. »

She looks to the side and frowns to herself. ] I was--I thought that...

[ « I really do sound ridiculous. Maybe I shouldn't have worried at all. It wasn't just worry. I was scared that I lost him this time. Again. Have I? What if he doesn't remember what I do? Or, not enough for it to matter. He promised though. He said he'd write it... »

Jesse frowns more before bundling everything inside her and forcing herself to look back at him. She wants to talk like they did before, be side by side, be with him. ]

I just wanted to talk. [ « Like we have. » ] Not the interviewing kind. Like, how we...

[ She shakes her head again at herself, it's not important. Her eyes stay downwards. Jesse rarely let's herself be vulnerable. Anytime she senses that it might have been wrong to do so? Those walls slowly start to come back up in self-defense, and it's obvious in how her posture goes rigid and the look in her eyes. Of course, Alan knows all those small details. How much he can pick up on them with his current condition is another thing.

« I miss him. » ]

Nevermind.

[ « Maybe it should have been an invterview. » ]

Edited 2023-11-02 23:26 (UTC)

[ Fear. Horror. Fear piled on top of fear. Desperation. That's all that Alan's known since this loop began and snowballed into the mess that it is now. Cultists dead. Deer heads covered in blood. Scratch laughing in the distance. Casey missing. Saga- Where did she go? And above all of that, a fear for the safety of a pair of agents. Yes, Alan felt afraid when he didn't see Steve and Jesse anywhere. He felt near panic when he thought that he might not see them this time, for any number of reasons. And clamoring loudly beneath all of that was a fear that Jesse was gone.

Gone from the story, despite his efforts to write her back in. Or just... gone. Dead. Out of his reach forever, never to return. I promised. I promised I'd put us back in. Jesse, I promised.

But Jesse's here, she's alive and talking to him, and arguing with the men in the cell beside his. She's alive, but even as she slides the cuffs onto his wrists that weigh him down and make him feel like he's being pulled down once more, and even as she guides him down the hall and eventually removes the cuffs, he knows he won't believe it until he can touch her himself.

But before he can do that, as he sits on the couch in front of her, he draws his arms back in, wrapping themselves around his torso in what looks like a protective posture. But the truth is, everything aches. His body aches, and even though the cuffs around his wrists are gone, his arms ache too now.

Still, even though everything seems to be protesting and hurting all at once, a great weight has fallen from Alan's shoulders. Jesse's alive. She's here, and as safe as it's possible to be in the middle of this neverending nightmare. She's not dead; he didn't fail to keep his promise. Never mind that Jesse being dead wouldn't mean Alan didn't live up to his word. But if she had died, he would have seen it that way, and nothing would make him change his mind.

He's done so much that brought harm to others, and if the words of Ilmo and Jaakko are anything to go by, he's fucked things up. A lot. But if there's one thing he hasn't done, it's get her killed again. She's not safe, not yet. None of them are. But Alan knows now that he would do just about anything (short of writing her out of the story, since that would be breaking his promise) to keep her alive.

But enough of that; he's been lost in his own head for long enough. Jesse's here and he wants to talk to her. He wants to hear her voice again. It takes a monumental effort to pull himself out of his thoughts, but he manages it eventually. ]

It has. It's been too long. [ And too much has happened. He unwinds one arm from around himself to pinch the flannel again, pinching his wrist beneath the fabric. He needs to stay grounded, or this conversation won't be a conversation.

He startles a bit when he sees her move, shifting until she's sitting upright. Sudden movements make him jumpy, but he manages to start breathing again when he realizes it's still her, not a Taken. He doesn't want to think about her and the Taken in the same sentence. ]

The- The Director likes reports, right? Or should like them. I- I have other answers. New ones. [ Ones I hate. Ones she should hate. But she should know them, shouldn't she? He doesn't want to talk about them. He doesn't want to report what's happened in this loop. He just wants to talk, like she does. Talk, and hold her hand, and be together before the horror story tears them apart again. Because it will. It's hungry. Wild. Angry, even. And there's only so much Alan can do to fight that. ]

What- What did you want to talk about? [ His grey eyes search to meet her green ones, but her gaze is turned downwards and he can't connect with it. I don't want to lose her again. I hope that I haven't lost her. ]

[ Jesse watches each of his movements with keen precision. He's not agitated, but, he's definitely scared. More scared than she's ever seen him before. It doesn't seem like he's lost to whatever pulls his mind away. His powers, the Dark Presence, whatever it is. She's never really asked and doesn't intend to ask. If only because she's sure he wouldn't want to answer the question.

Her jaw slides to the side as he keeps talking. She actually hates reports--namely writing them. Reading them is something she's just used to doing after finding a seemingly endless amount through her combing of the Oldest House. He isn't wrong in the fact she should be asking questions. She should be trying to learn what has happened since they last met. But... not now, and not only because she doesn't want to. Everything about his state of being says those questions and answers are better left for later.

Maybe once he's eaten, and slept, and not covered in blood.

« How long is "too long"? Has he--has it been long enough where he's moved on...? »

She hopes not. The thought alone makes her own heart beat painfully and her hands shake slightly. Her fists curl then uncurl. There's only one way to find out. Even if she's afraid of the truth.

« New answers can wait until the morning. When the sun is out and he's calmer. We need to get through the night--all of us here. Even the assholes in the cell. »

Jesse slowly moves this time. Both hands raise, one gently resting against the one pinching himself, and the other resting on top of the pinched wrist. It takes another moment before she brings herself to raise her eyes this time. Her green ones meet his gray ones, and it's clear she's timid. Afraid he might pull his hands away and ask what the hell she's doing.

« He said he forgets. The Dark Presence takes parts of him away and his memory away. What if--what if he forgot about us? So he couldn't put us back in the story. Or, maybe he really has moved on. »

Either way, they should try again. From the start.

She leans forward slightly. Just enough to be tipping into his space, but not far enough where he should feel cornered by her. ]

Alan. [ Her hands gently squeeze his hand and wrist. ] Are you okay? You're here in Bright Falls. With me.

[ In Bright Falls with Jesse, not just the Director.

She knows he isn't and it's obvious. Still, it might help him transition from the idea of interviews. Just the two of them--however they stand now after it's been so long for him. ]

Edited 2023-11-03 05:30 (UTC)

[ He just keeps pinching his wrist; not constantly, just once every five or ten seconds. Another pinch. And then another one. The sting of the pinch helps ground him somewhat. It's becoming less and less effective as a coping mechanism but Alan refuses to admit it and stubbornly keeps pinching himself.

Eventually, he stops talking, and silence falls in the room. It's quiet. Too quiet, even though there's muffled voices outside the room. Alan doesn't know what to do when it's quiet. In the Dark Place, there's always noise. The Taken stomp around. Some of them shuffle. They all say his name. The wind rattles what's left of the leaves in the trees. Car brakes screech, but who's driving the car? He hasn't explained this aspect of the Dark Place because it hasn't come up, but it's not a forest. It's a city. Dark, haunted, possessed... Neon lights glow in the distance, creating an eerie sort of backdrop. It's the perfect haunted playground for the Taken, on the hunt for a writer who's found himself alone.

.... So alone.

Alan's breath catches in his chest, coinciding with Jesse moving slowly, lifting her hands and placing one against both of his own. I'm not alone? Is this real? It's not a dream? In the relative silence, Alan's slow exhaled breaths can be heard as he tries to gather himself. Jesse's hands feel warm against his skin; figures in dreams don't feel warm, do they? Maybe it's in his head, but he feels as though he hasn't felt warm in years. Maybe longer than years. She's here. She's real.

He draws another shaky breath and he shudders involuntarily as he finally, finally allows himself to accept that she's really here. Oh, God, I hope she's really here. Please let this be real. Even if it's a loop, things that happen in the loops still feel real. Terrifyingly so, sometimes. But Alan wants this one thing to be real.

He sees her lean in closer, and feels her hands squeezing his. ] ... Jesse. [ Jesse. ] I'm- [ I'm not okay, but she knows that. She doesn't need to hear again how completely messed up I am. ] Great. Peachy. Just peachy.

[ I've never said "peachy" before. This place really is messing with my head. It's worse than I thought. ]

What about you? Are you okay? I- [ Should I tell her? Yeah, I'm going to tell her. I don't know why, but I think she needs to know that something's different, if she hasn't picked it up already. ]

I looked for you. Tried to find you. But I couldn't, for some reason. [ I thought you might be dead. I didn't want to think it, but- It was there.

And now it's Alan's turn for his gaze to lower, gray eyes shifting away as fear tugs at him again. He pauses for a second, and then he adds: ]

I did what you wanted me to. [ It's there. It's in the story. Edited in. It just has to play out that way now. Like scenes from a movie. We just have to get to that point. Wait, I have something. I was keeping it for her.

It's folded up in the pocket of his jeans, and he has to briefly pull one hand away from Jesse in order to get it. It's wrinkled and one corner has a tear in it, but the writing on it can still be seen. It's a typewritten page, but what makes it more notable is the deep pen scratch marks that are all over it.

The scratch marks aren't orderly at all; they're erratic and uneven, and it looks as though it was done in a rush. Alan's scrawled writing is equally rushed and uneven, but the words can still be read without too much trouble. There's certain parts where the letters look like they were written with a shaking hand and a wobbling pen, as if the writer was taken by a fit of... of something. There's even a hole in the page where it looks like the point of the pen tore through the paper with the force with which it was written on.

Names, words, events... they're all scribbled down on the edited page. It's not a neat job by any means, but Alan had to take something that was written and alter it. He had to make it fit even though he was changing it. Expanding on it but still leaving it vague enough that something sinister didn't lash out in rage.

Whatever the case, Alan knows Jesse should see the page and how he changed it in order to fulfill the promise he made. ]

It's here if you want to see it. [ Well, it's not everything in entirety, as it's just one page out of many, but he hopes she realizes that there's more pages just like this one. This one is relevant because it's about them. He holds it out to her, wondering if she'll take it. ]

Edited 2023-11-03 08:55 (UTC)

[ Silence falls and she continues to watch him. Not eerily or in an overbearing way. Intently, worriedly. He was acting more like himself in the cell--until the brothers started up. Something they said got under his skin. Made whatever is going in his head worse.

« He's not drifting away. He's still here, but, not fully. More like he's distracted instead of wandering. In his head, I mean. »

Then, he speaks again. Her gaze lifts once more at the sound of her name and not formal title or surname. Her eyes light up ever so slightly, but, she still tries to temper her reaction.

Just in case.

Her eyebrows knit together. Peachy? ]

"Peachy." [ The corners of her lips tug, but the humor tone is more in her eyes. Of course, he doesn't mean it, but maybe seeing a lighter reaction will help. ] Maybe I'm a bit more than peachy. But, not much more.

[ Her fingers curl around his hand and wrist. Gently. Anything more than that might set him off. ]

I imagine Casey and Anderson wouldn't let you get far. [ Her gaze softens. ] We were held up at our monitoring site. We never got the tip that the FBI found you. Otherwise, we would of been here sooner.

[ Jesse drops her gaze to look over him again. Dried blood, some mud, signs of a fight. The Cult tried to do a number on him. Or, maybe he did a number to the Cult. Both things are possible even if she wants to believe Alan couldn't bring himself to do... whatever happened to cause so much blood.

What he says next stops her in her metaphoric tracks. Everything she was thinking comes to a sudden stop in her mind. Her eyes widen by a fraction and eyebrows raise. Breath catches in her throat. A small shake is in her hands. ]

...You did? [ Small, quiet, but not disbelief. Surprised.

Green eyes fall from his as she watches every movement his hand makes. She has seen his manuscript pages before. They match the page in the Panopticon. Same size, shape, even font face of the Typewritten Page. Some have been scratched out, or blocked by dried black liquid. This page, however, isn't exactly like the others.

It's torn. Violently scratched out. A hole from a pen tip.

Jesse starts at the top of the page and slowly makes her way down the page. Something is off about the way the unscratched out parts flow. It... doesn't seem like Alan's voice. The written in parts? Yes, those sound like Alan. Even the arrows pointing to when the written parts should be taking place. Those sound like the best selling author she knows and loves.

Her eyes move to the top of the page and read it once more. She can feel how the story is trying to alter things around them. The nudge--just like before--being there to try and get her to act in a way it wants her to. Except, this time, Jesse knows it's not the story. At least, not in the same way that it was for dealing with Hartman. The story is changing because of what they wanted. They demanded this of the story. The one thing that can be theirs despite all the horror going on.

She raises one shaking hand to touch the hand written words. She's never seen Alan's physical writing before--never touched it. It's real, and he really did write it in. Like he said he would. He kept his promise. Did he want to? Was he upset at having to do it, and that's why the page has a hole in it and uneven writing?

« He really wrote it. Like he said he would. Despite everything... he... when was the last time someone kept their promise to me? The last time outside of orders and their job. A promise to me. » ]

...you really did...

[ Most people might say it's obvious he did, as the evidence is in her hands. Or maybe that she is overreacting. But to Jesse Faden? It's proof of someone to believe. Someone who will keep their word in a world that never took hers seriously. Someone to trust with those things that are closest to her, underneath the walls and levels of control.

« Alan really did it. »

She blinks and inhales unevenly. Another blink and she knows it's unstoppable now. That last guarded wall finally comes down. Her vision clouds, and she can feel the warm water start to roll down her cheeks. No tucking her head to the side, darting her eyes away. She keeps them on the page in her trembling hands.

Perhaps, for the first time, Alan Wake is seeing that ordinary woman buried behind walls and control. The girl who played in a dump and lost everything over the span of a few weeks. Who became a woman filled with distrust and paranoia, unable to make a connection like this to anyone. ]

[ Everything gets under his skin these days. It's so easy for words, thoughts, everything to slip past his defenses. A person can only take so many hits before the walls start to come down. Alan's walls are more like rubble now. Rubble, where walls once stood. But somehow, in spite of it all, he's still trying to hold on with whatever he has left. It's not much, but he's still trying. ]

Yeah. Peachy. It's a nice-sounding word, isn't it? [ Better than saying I'm in over my head and just want to run away screaming from everything that looks at me funny.

The gentle touch at his hand and wrist sets off a quiet alarm bell, but Alan manages to suppress it, just barely. He can trust Jesse not to hurt him. He knows that. It's in the pages that he wrote. Scratched out what was written, wrote something else. I trust what I read on these pages. I think. I can hardly trust those anymore. But this is something I trust. I have to be able to trust it. Trust her.

She asks if he did, and he nods. Slowly, but definitively. ] It- It wasn't easy. [ His voice catches and wavers, and he shudders again as a memory flashes into his mind. He hears the narration in his head, but he feels his mouth move as well, echoing the words out loud. Slowly. Hesitantly. Sometimes his voice shakes, but the words just keep on coming.

He's alone in the room with the two ornately decorated windows. He's staring at the windows, looking up at the darkened, cloudy sky. It's always dark here. Cloudy. Stormy.

Wake turned from the window to face the desk. It was empty except for the typewriter, just as he'd left it when he turned to look out the window. But there was a ripple, a flash, and the image changed. A coat hung on the chair as if it had been flung there. Wake was back at the doorway and didn't remember how he'd gotten there.

He approached the desk, one step at a time. His eyes widened. A manuscript sat on the desk. "Return", by Alan Wake. He hadn't written it. Hadn't even started. But it sat there still, looking at him. Staring at him as if the words on the page turned into threatening, mocking eyes. He grabbed the stack of papers and began to read. As he read, he spread the pages out over the desk. There was barely enough room.

No. No, this was wrong. Wake felt a spike of horror. The spikes kept coming. This wasn't the story he wanted. It was a horror story, which made sense. The story had to have a horror element for it to be functional, but this was taking it too far. He rejected the ideas written on the pages. But he hadn't started making his own edits yet. Not until he reached another page about midway through the story.

"No. No, you're not doing that to her. I- I refuse to accept it." Wake's words echoed in the silence of the room. He took hold of a pen that had been placed beside the typewriter. He began to scratch out the words. Slowly at first, but increasing in speed and fever until his movements became wild. Erratic. Uncontrolled. Sometimes a primal scream echoed in the room as Wake's sense of reason and rationality slipped. "I have to change the story. This can't be the story! I promised her I'd..."

The pen stabbed through the paper with the force of Wake's hand as he scratched things out. Crossed out words. Rewrote the words. Drew arrows pointing to where the edits were supposed to go. Had he done this before? Would he do this again with other pages? The manuscript was there. Whole. Complete. Evil. Part of Wake knew he'd have to go through the whole thing, reading it, changing it. Feverishly scratching out the things that were wrong. But for now... for now, it was just this page. This chapter.

He scratched out more words. Wrote other words. Scratching. Writing. Rewriting.

The scene rippled again and the page sat on the desktop. Wake was slumped in the chair. Deflated. Scared, to a degree. But he'd done it. He'd kept his promise.

"I really did it."

Alan's spoken words from the narration echo Jesse's thoughts, but Alan says no more, having reached the end of his own narration. Gray eyes focus once more, zeroing in on her, and he watches her reactions. Wonders how she might feel knowing that he did what he could to fulfill his promise. The story fought him along the way, but he fought back, tapping into an already depleted reservoir of will. The reservoir was emptying, but maybe... maybe it could fill back up again, at least a little.

He watches Jesse, sees the wave of warm tears rolling down her cheeks. Tears because of what he wrote? No, this isn't just because of some scratched in words on a page. It's more than that. Meaningful. Significant. She's letting go. Letting her wall down.

He reaches for her, hands reaching to cover her hands, ignoring the manuscript page she still holds. Not ignoring it. It's important. It's them. But he touches her hands, fingers curling against her hands and the manuscript page both. He squeezes her hands. I've always liked her hands. The thought forms unbidden, but he knows it's true.

With his right hand, he reaches up to touch her face now. Slowly, still hesitantly, but he doesn't wait to complete this action. Fingers brush against her cheeks, wiping away her tears. I- I love her. It's impossible, it shouldn't be happening, but- I love her. Everything about her.

His fingers slide from her cheeks to touch her hair, lightly curling in the strands. But he doesn't push her, doesn't press her to say anything until she's ready. It can just be them in this moment, with no words needed until they're ready to say them. ]

[ As far as Jesse's concerned? He's home with her. Polaris. Steve. That means they can start rebuilding those walls. They can finally solve this AWE and move onto the next step--the one it feels they've both been waiting for. It feels like ages for her, but given the look in his eyes? It must have felt like years for him.

She is about to comment on their joking peach thread of conversation, but then he keeps speaking. Not even speaking--narrating. Like what he would say over the Hotline. It doesn't feel strange, as she's certain he has done this before. Narrated through himself to her. Last time... she was angry, hurt, heartbroken. That's not how this is.

Her eyes remain on the manuscript in her hands, but her whole attention is focused on what he is saying. Her expression only shifts slightly as he describes the room he "lives" in at the Dark Place. The manuscript that was finished but he didn't write. A small frown tugs on her face as her gaze moves over the scratched out parts of the manuscript.

« "Not doing that to her"? What happened? Was it... was it worse than what you told me happened the first time? »

It only matters in the scope that Alan felt it had to change. Not only because of their promise, but something more. She's not sure how she knows. Instincts, maybe. Something happened that she's certain he'd never describe.

« If he didn't write it ... who did? We will have to ask in the morning. I... I dont think he'd say anything right now. »

Jesse inhales sharply to try and pull herself together. Her hands still tremble underneath his. Them. It's not as impossible for her to believe. She fought the story and even Alan in her own way to keep what memories she could. Emotions if nothing else. Polaris helped and continues to help her. They may be constrained by the story, but she will never be trapped by it. She'll find a way by working within it to get what she wants.

Which is exactly what he has done, and the edits on the page prove it.

"An understanding", the manuscript page says.

She supposes it's one way to describe... well, them. A vague way of doing it, but, maybe that can give them enough leeway and control to make it work in the story. She likes to believe that by now she understands how Alan thinks.

She certainly knows his writing voice.

Jesse leans her cheek into his hand as he brushes the tears away. There's no debate or confusion in her mind that she loves him. It's why she had been trying to find him the moment they arrived in Bright Falls. It has to be different for him though. He has to live the story out without the knowledge has while writing it.

« And... we loop around to the beginning again somehow. Don't we? »

One hand finally lets go of the manuscript page to raise and rest against the hand now in her hair. The tactical gloves are fingerless, letting her feel the dirt, mud, blood all mixed on his fingers. She doesn't pull away or shy away. Why would she? It's Alan... she loves him. ]

Peachy. It is a nice-sounding word. [ Jesse smiles, despite the tears, bringing her eyes to meet his. ] Maybe I'm just peachy too after all.

[ Her fingers curl, the tips sliding between each of his knuckles in an odd way to hold his hand. The best way she can describe him at the moment is rediscovering them. She doesn't want to get in the middle of it. What if she does and it stops it from coming true? ]

Alan. [ She waits until his full attention is on her. Then, she leans forward once more into his space. Just enough to communicate her intentions. Anymore than that and he might jump out of his skin. ] ...thank you. For... this--[ she gently moves the manuscript in her hand back and forth, ]--for us. Again.

[ She blinks and another wave of tears rolls down her cheeks.

« He may never understand just how grateful I am. How much it means to me... how much I love him. Maybe he'll never really know. But, he still has to at least hear it. » ]

[ Alan isn't nearly as confident or resolute. He feels like he's drifting. Floating sometimes. Sinking other times. Drowning, when things get really bad. And they've been pretty bad for what feels like a long time now. Time in the Dark Place is in flux. Always changing. It's never definite, except for how it's always dark. The darkness is suffocating. Choking. So thick it could strangle a person.

He'd much rather talk about peaches and make jokes about feeling peachy than let her see what he's become, what the Dark Place has turned him into. But to hide that from her would be hiding the truth, and he's resolved to not do that, not if he can help it. She needs to see him as he is, to see the good parts and the bad. And maybe the bad outweighs the good. It certainly feels that way when his sanity slips and he pushes the typewriter off the desk and screams.

That typewriter always comes back, no matter how many times he picks it up and throws it across the room.

Now, he simply sits and waits. Waits for her to pull away from him, to move his hands away from her: hands that he's forgotten are covered in blood, dirt, and who knows what else. She's leaning into his touch, and her hand is touching his. But she'll pull away soon, he thinks. She's seen the damage that's been done to him, heard him relate it in his own words. It's surely too much for anyone, even too much for her, who's seen and lived through so much.

His head lowers and a shaky breath escapes him as he waits.

"Maybe I'm just too peachy after all."

Alan's head lifts when he hears Jesse say those words, and he looks up just in time to see her smiling at him. Her smile softens her face and brightens her eyes. He's seen it happen before, but it feels like he's seeing it now for the first time in years. The hand that she's touching trembles in response to her fingers sliding between each knuckle. This moment is important. It feels like the beginning of a chapter, but a chapter they've read before. A scene they've acted out before. But it's not acting when they really mean everything they're doing. It's a return, of sorts. A rediscovery. A rediscovery of each other.

She says his name, and he looks at her, gray eyes sliding to meet with hers. She leans forward and he feels himself doing the same, her magnetism drawing him in, in spite of his lingering fears. It's not her he's afraid of. He couldn't be afraid of her, not now. Not when they've shared so much.

But he freezes, mind briefly going blank as everything but the words she's just said fades away.

...thank you. For... this-- for us.

Then Alan's eyes cloud over and a memory surfaces, briefly taking him away from this moment, from Jesse. Frown lines appear around his mouth and eyes as he remembers some things that happened and some that his mind has taken and twisted into an artificial recollection of what really happened.

"Did you write my family into this story? Fix it, you son of a- You asshole. You will fix it. My daughter. My husband. How dare you write them into your twisted hellhole of a story? You selfish asshole."

More echoes reverberate around the chambers of Alan's mind.

"If you won't put him down, let us out and we'll put a bullet between his eyes. We'll end both him and this nightmare in one shot. It should have been done a long time ago. Rotten, useless, arrogant writer. This world's better off without him in it."

Another echo sounds then, louder than the last two that made Alan feel like he was sinking again, the waves sweeping over his head, pulling him down into a dark embrace.

"Alan, thank you for this. For us. Again." It's Jesse's voice. Sounding grateful. Warm. Kind, to Alan's ears. And dare he hope for it, full of love. For him. The harsh voices with their cruel words fade away, and all that's left are the echoes of Jesse's words of thanks. He wants to hold onto those words forever. There's more power contained in those simple words than anything the Dark Presence or even his own mind could throw at him. And a lot of words have been thrown his way; but Jesse's words overpower all of them.

As the fog recedes from his eyes, he doesn't speak because he doesn't trust his own voice to not betray the depths of fear and love and wonder that he's feeling because of the gift that Jesse's just given him. He slowly, very slowly leans forward until his forehead is pressed lightly against hers. It's a familiar gesture, and a familiar posture to be in. They've done it before. He doesn't know how many times, but he knows it's something they've done.

He just wants to stay like this for a little while, because with her here, the darkness both outside (as the sun has set) and inside Alan's own mind doesn't trouble him as much. He can breathe a little easier knowing that she's here, loving him, but more importantly, safe. As safe as anyone can be when safety isn't ever a guarantee. ]

Edited 2023-11-04 08:20 (UTC)

[ She remains quiet as she watches him. He stops before they make contact and his eyes cloud over. In a moment his mind has gone somewhere else. A place she really can't ever follow. All she can do is try to guide him back. It's something he's always done since she's met him. But, something tells her it wasn't as bad as it's become. At one point he was with her more. His mind would wander away, but never to a point where a simple touch couldn't anchor him down.

Now, she needs to reach into the waters and offer her hand to him to grab. Her other hand anchoring her with her feet, pulling him back to the surface. Pulling him up to breathe--to see the sun. Home. A reality may be like shifting waves, and a tide that erodes him. That's the thing--it's a reality. Their reality isn't like that. It's home.

She gently moves his hand from his hair and turns it in her grasp. Fingers slide between his comfortably in a sense of ease. None of this is new for her. His mind may see it as a return, but to her, it's a reunion. A coming back together after a long time. Maybe it hasn't been as long for her as it has him, but, it has definitely been long enough.

His forehead gently rests against hers.

Finally.

Jesse immediately presses hers against his with her hand squeezing his securely. Her heart almost flutters. Will that feeling ever go away? She hopes not. She wants to selfishly keep all of this. The dangers can ebb and flow, but this is what she wanted to stay. This special connection to someone like her. That person who has seen behind the poster and knows the world of horrors and wonders, but won't leave her alone as they run screaming from the truth.

« Maybe he will one day he will leave screaming and he'll never want to come back to me. Us. We'll be the only people in that room with the poster torn down. »

She hopes not.

Her other hand pulls the manuscript closer, resting it against her. Almost as if she's trying to protect it. They're worth protecting, even if the two of them have disagreed and even fought about it.

『 Wake had to escape. Write his escape. He was already out. He wanted to make it true. Wake needed a hero. 』

The Hotline call echos in her mind for a brief moment. She can see the faint outline of the man on the typewriter--black and white. Her eyes close for that small span of seconds. She wonders if that is still the case, or if the role of the hero has gone to someone else. That'd be fine with her. As long as they remain in the story? Someone else can be the hero or heroine. She has people here under her she needs to help. Agents, scientists, the people of Bright Falls.

Alan Wake himself.

« He called me here, and here I am. »

The fading light outside hasn't escaped her notice. Steve and Estevez will be done with their assigned tasks soon. She'll need to get to work and bring him in on the plan. For now? She leans into their touch just a bit more. ]

Hi, Alan. [ Another small press forward is given to their foreheads to make sure his attention on her. ] Welcome back.

Edited 2023-11-04 09:13 (UTC)

[ I've gone so deep. Deeper than before. Found ways to dive deeper. Sinking. Drowning. How do you swim up when everything is pulling you down?

The things that used to pull him back up don't work anymore, or at least, not as well. Jesse's touch could pull him back. Her calling to him could pull him up. But when the waves are crashing on the shore of his mind, the water soaking him and chilling his skin, he can't hear. Can't feel. Can't see. I'm drowning. I'm lost.

Home is an illusion. Their reality is an illusion too. What's real anymore? Is Parliament Tower looming over the darkened city real? Parliament Tower... why do I know that name? Alan's memories wash in and out with the tide; sometimes he remembers things from their reality, from home, and sometimes he doesn't.

Who is the woman with the red hair and green eyes that catch the light and flash brightly? I know her. She's important. Jesse Faden. You- you can't take her from me. The Dark Presence has taken so much, and Alan is terrified to even think about what will be left when it's done. If it's ever done. Maybe it won't stop until it's taken everything from him and he's no longer the man called Alan Wake.

The sheer horror of that is enough to jolt him, and when he does, he's greeted not by more horror, but the gentle feel of Jesse taking hold of his hand and sliding her fingers in between his. His shoulders drop as the built up tension fades, and his own fingers curl against hers.

Whether it's a return or a reunion, Alan knows one thing, and that's something the dark waves can't tear away from him. He's safe with Jesse. It might be only a feeling in his head, but he feels sheltered when he's with her. Secure. No one can break in and steal him away when she's here, at least not for good. His mind might wander, and he might sink, but he comes back. He returns because she calls him back.

His fingers curl further into her hand and he presses his forehead against hers a little more. It's not enough to be uncomfortable, and it's not going to knock either of them over, but he needs to feel. He doesn't want to lose this either. These feelings. Jesse. She's a part of his life now, even if that life isn't very much of one, not anymore. He wants to wake up next to her every morning and see her there every day. He wants to be there when she comes home at night.

But what good is dreaming when he's still trapped? Still, if all he can do is dream, then he wants to dream about that life with Jesse, even if it never becomes more than a dream.

He sees her pull the manuscript page closer, almost protectively. If she wants to keep it, it's probably safer with her anyway. She might lose it when- if the loop resets, but he has just as much chance of losing it in the Dark Place as she does of losing it to the loops. One of them might as well have it, anyway.

The clouds in his eyes seem to clear, and Jesse's small press pushing their foreheads together further grounds him. ]

Hi, Jesse. [ He manages to smile at her; it's small, and it doesn't quite negate the still scared look in his eyes, but it softens his haunted expression just a little. ] And... thank you.

[ For not giving up on him. For not letting him give up. For coming to find him. The list of things he wants to thank her for is quite long and would take more time than both of them have. ]

[ Jesse presses back with her forehead.

Polaris shifts.

« Okay. If you think it'll help. Do what you think you need to. We need him here if we're going to stop the Dark Presence this time... and I need him here. Even if he doesn't know it. »

She can feel the gentle vibrations in the palm of her hand. Polaris attempts to resonate with that spark inside the Writer. The one that marks him as the Champion of Light to fight the Herald of Darkness. Jesse may not know all the terms, and the terms may be an abstract concept to Polaris, but the resonance knows what makes her powerful. Stronger. Brighter. Deafening. It's a gentle vibration. Nothing that would cause harm or hurt. Just a nudge.

That's something Alan should be used to.

Her smile is small, but eyes sparkle. It's that fond smile she only lets him see. Her way of telling him that she's happy he's there. That she loves him despite whatever his mind may throw at him. ]

Anytime. [ She means it wholeheartedly and entirely. Whenever he needs to be pulled from the waves? She'll be there in someway or shape to do so. ] Can I keep it? Or... or do you need it back to do whatever is you need to do?

[ « If he needs it to help him remember it? That's fine. I've seen it and knows it exists. That's more than enough for me. »

She never forgets what it's like to be close to him, but, it's always different than she remembers. Almost like she can't hold onto the exact emotions and feelings. How intense it feels, how that gravitational pull seems to just ignite. Is it just because of whatever is in him that Polaris reacts to? Is it more? She's still not sure, but whatever the reason, her gaze drops down to his lips for the briefest of moments. She knows they've been close--intimate.

« I want it back. »

Jesse moves the fraction it's needed to ghost her lips across his. A faint touch, enough so he can pull away if it's too much or too soon. He may not remember what they've done together by design. There's really only one way to find out.

Even as she can faintly hear the footsteps beyond the office doors. ]

No- no, that's okay. You can keep it. It'll be safer with you. [ Alan's response is immediate. She might not be able to keep it, because it might be taken from her by the story, or the loops, or whatever, but he wants her to have it.

This time, things are a little different. Alan's with her, but his mind slips away so much easier now. So much faster than before. Maybe he's not truly with her, like he has one foot out the metaphorical door. Not because he's leaving her or doesn't want to be with her. He wants that more than anything. But the hold that the Dark Place has on him is stronger now. It's pulling at him almost constantly. At least, that's how it feels to him.

His eyes shift immediately to lock on hers as soon as he feels that familiar resonance. That vibration that's unique to Polaris. To Jesse. Alan would know it anywhere. The spark is still inside Alan, but it's muted. Quieter. He can still use light to his advantage, but it's different now. He feels Polaris's resonance and leans into it, but it feels as though something is missing. Maybe it feels different to Polaris and Jesse, but it just feels strange to Alan. Dulled. But perhaps his senses aren't as sharp as they should be. It's hard to hear, feel, and think when dark waves are threatening to pull you under.

She can most likely feel the way he startles when her lips brush against his. It's not the same reaction as before; he's not jumping out of his skin. His heart rate isn't accelerating like a panicked rabbit's. It's not even that he didn't expect it. It's what we had before. I want it back. He unwittingly echoes Jesse's own thoughts, and to him, the thought he's just had is confirmation enough.

He returns the gesture, brushing his lips against hers in return, and after a second's pause, presses them against hers more fully. It's not quite a full kiss, but it's close. As for the footsteps beyond the doors, Alan chooses to ignore them in favor of this moment. ]

[ Jesse nods slowly to his immediate answer. ] Okay.

[ The gentle expression remains on her face, but the undertones of fondness change into something else. In a word? Scared. In a word she'd share with everyone else, even to Alan? Worried.

Jesse's attention moves from Polaris back to him as he leans forward into the motion. It doesn't bother her. She expects it, because he always is drawn to Polaris. Just as Polaris is drawn to whatever is--should be--inside him. That spark of Light that makes everything brighter and louder.

« No. No. Something is wrong. I know it. What's wrong? Should you be here more? Am I moving too fast? Should I be more like the Director... or me? Did--did something happen? He said it had been a long time... »

She nearly pulls away the moment she brushes the kiss to his lips, but doesn't at the last moment. He kisses her--just not fully. She returns the gesture, intending to give a full kiss. The movement is slow so he can ease into it. She wants what they had. But, more importantly, she wants him with her.

And, like a scene from a cliche movie, the door opens.

Jesse let's out a small disappointed sigh before turning her head to the door. She stays close so Alan can lean against her. Green eyes land on the Ranger Captain, halfway through the door, looking at the both of them... and seemingly unphased by the scene at all. ]

Control Points are set up like you asked, Faden. Just needs your finishing touch. [ Steve pauses and looks at Alan with a smirk. ] Hey, Wake. Ready to see the boss in action?

Steve... [ Jesse knows her voice should be louder, driven by authority. She's the Director. Instead she just sounds... tired. Worried. Maybe even defensive and protective. ] I'm not sure...

He'll be fine. I'll even take responsibility and watch over him while you do your thing. People might feel better if a ranger is looking over a parautalitarian.

[ Jesse glances down and swallows. Then, she looks back up at Alan with a small frown. ] Would you rather stay here in the office with the lights or come with me?

[ Why can't I feel her? I could always feel her. Reaching. Stirring up something inside both of us. Grow brighter. Polaris.

Alan feels something inside him begin to shake and quiver as a realization occurs to him: a possible reason why he can't feel the resonance from Polaris like he has before. The connection he has with Polaris isn't like the one Jesse has. He wouldn't dare presume as much. But not being able to feel her when she reaches out feels as though he's losing access to something bright and warm and comforting. And when very little, if anything at all, in the Dark Place is comforting, that loss is monumental.

Not devastating like the severing of the bond between Jesse and Polaris, but it's bad enough in Alan's mind.

They share a brief kiss, and then the footsteps get closer, followed by the opening of the door. Steve enters, and Alan looks up to see him walking in. He's another friendly face, although Alan isn't sure if he can assign the word "friend" to him, when they barely know each other. But Steve has always been kind to him, in a friendly joking kind of way; there's a normality to that that Alan appreciates, and so he does consider him a friend, at least privately.

Control points. It's another term that Alan isn't sure he knows, but a thought rises up in his mind from out of nowhere. Well, not a thought, but an image: Jesse on the ground, hands on the floor. Doing something. Channeling something. Energy? Resonance? He doesn't know if the two are connected. They might be, but he just doesn't have enough information yet.

Steve addresses him and he pulls himself out of his thoughts again. ] Yeah. Ready as I'll ever be, I guess.

[ He quiets again as Steve and Jesse briefly debate having him join them. He understands why Jesse would hesitate, but Steve's response surprises him. He didn't expect the ranger to take responsibility for watching him. He figured if anything, he'd get put right back in the cell next to the two cult leaders while the FBC did their work.

His gaze shifts back to Jesse as she poses a question to him now: would he rather stay here, or go with her? The answer is clear and he gives it almost immediately. It might be light in this room, but he doesn't want to be left alone. ] I want to go with you. If that's okay.

[ While Alan may not feel he has any luck left at all, he does have some. Polaris has a stubborn catalyst in this dimension. One that won't give up no matter the odds stacked against her. If Alan can't sense her? Then, Polaris will guide her catalyst to find another way. It may not come from a place of concern or care in a way a human understands it. Perhaps it's simply a matter that Polaris wishes to amplify and make herself stronger. Perhaps it's because the Dark Presence would drown the dimension that Polaris resonates so strongly in.

Maybe the reason is beyond the understanding of humans.

Regardless, Polaris will find a way to reach the Torchbearer. Maybe what their next step does will help.

Jesse glances between the two men as they share a brief exchange. Steve has always been kind to Alan, but, even Jesse can tell Steve must know more than he let's on. He hasn't batted an eye at how their hands are interlocked, how close they are. He didn't even question or ask when Jesse demanded they meet with the rest of the field agents.

« Does he remember the loops too? Did you tell him something? It's not like he's a parautalitarian. How would he be able to remember? »

She blinks at his answer. Anyone else might say she hardly had a reaction, but a slight surprise is in those green eyes. It's clear she's worried--afraid she has made an error in how she's approached it. Scared she isn't helping him, or even worse, can't help him anymore.

Jesse gently brushes her lips against the cheek not covered in mud, dirt, blood. She squeezes his hand. ]

Thank you. [ Even if she hoped their reunion would be closer to how their relationship started... he wrote it back in. Made it real. ] Make sure you stick close to Steve. Just in case.

[ Jesse folds the manuscript page into the pocket of her tactical vest and stands up. Her hand slowly slips from his before moving to the door. Steve opens it all the way and steps aside. Jesse leaves the room, but, Polaris shimmers as if to indicate the way she's gone. The Ranger Captain motions with his head for the Writer to stand and then walk beside him. ]

You walk next to me, don't move out to touch anyone if you can avoid it. Part of the paranoia comes from the fact they've got no idea what you can do but alter reality. [ Steve closes the door behind them and begins escorting Alan back to the front entrance. ] Give them a reason to show you're on our side and they'll be more willing to have you walk around. The Director's word isn't enough after what happened with the previous one. Trench burnt more bridges at the end of the day.

[ Steve holds his hand up to the other agents in the room when they finally arrive. Estevez eyes the pair, especially Alan, but turns her attention to the Director. She stands in the middle of a taped dashed circle surrounded by small array dishes. A field agents nods and motions for Jesse to begin.

She kneels down to the center and closes her eyes.

Steve leans to Alan and lowers his voice. ]

We use Control Points to center everything back at HQ. The Director has to remove any other interference for... classified things to center parts of HQ. We're hoping if Faden can cleanse this area that it'll give us a foothold here. Somewhere your spooky Shadow doesn't control.

[ Estevez looks over her shoulder at the two. ] Does Mr. Wake even have the clearance for this?

Eh, protocols are out the window right now, Estevez. Besides. Faden is what we would call unconventional. An outlier. Best hope for the Buearu so far. [ Steve smirks. ] And, need I remind you, Wake was involved in the AWE of '10. If anyone knows how to fight the Shadow? It'll be him. Better to use him as an asset rather than bait. Don't you think?

Do all rangers have such a smug way of operations?

Only the best ones, Estevez. [ Steve gives a wide grin and the woman rolls her eyes. He looks back at Alan and nods down to Jesse. ] I'm pretty sure you know about the resonance by now, Wake. That's what she's going to use.

Edited 2023-11-05 06:26 (UTC)

[ Luck isn't a concept Alan believes in anymore. There's no such thing as luck. Either you make your own luck or you get steamrolled. And he's been steamrolled a lot already, but not because he's given up. He's come close, of course, but he's still here. Still writing. It's will that matters. Stubbornness. And it's that stubbornness from Jesse that part of him is counting on, even if he hasn't realized it.

It seems that this part doesn't concern Alan very much, other than being an observer. Knowing Jesse, she's got this under control. He's no use here, not really. But he couldn't stand staying behind alone in that room.

He nods along with Steve's instructions, already resolved to follow them to the letter. He knows he's not welcome here, if the looks Estevez and the other agents are giving him. The last thing he needs to do is cause a scene. ]

I'll stay close. I don't want to cause trouble. [ I've caused enough already as it is. Any one of these agents looks like they'd throw me into a cell and lose the key as soon as they could.

Maybe it's Alan's own paranoia talking, but he can't help but feel a little nervous about standing here with X amount of rangers standing around. He glances sidelong at Steve, and around at the other rangers, hoping their eyes are on Jesse and her work, not on him. He tries to be discreet about pinching his wrist to try and ground himself. Hopefully no one here is jumpy or trigger happy. ]

I see. I think. [ Steve's explanation makes sense to an extent. ] It's like balancing it. Removing the negative energy and making it more balanced. [ That theory is probably way off. This isn't anything close to being Alan's area of expertise. He probably doesn't even have the right to speculate.

He glances at Estevez when she questions his being there. It's fair to ask, as he's not an agent. He's just a writer. A civilian. But Steve mentions Jesse being unconventional, and refers to Alan's involvement back in 2010. Whatever the case, Estevez seems to stand down, if a bit reluctantly.

Steve offers another explanation, this time about how Jesse's going to use the resonance to get the job done. Alan nods in understanding, and just stands by next to the other man, waiting to see how this all plays out. ]

When a Control Point is cleansed, does it stay that way, or does it have to be done again? [ Alan's question earns him a look from Estevez, almost implying that maybe he should shut up and not ask questions about classified things, but it's too late. His question is already out there. ]

Edited 2023-11-05 07:06 (UTC)

[ Steve hopes that by showing Alan what they do, it'll put things into perspective for him. Sure, he knows the Director, but that doesn't mean Alan knows how the FBC works. Civilians shouldn't know--but Alan stopped being one of those once the AWE happened in '10. When the Writer altered reality and set everything about it in motion. Maybe if he can see what the Buearu does he'll have an idea of what they put on the line to fight these paranormal forces.

More importantly what Jesse is putting on the line.

A moment passes before Steve begins to answer the question Alan has. His jaw sets, expression turns grim. Giving him a non-classified version wouldn't be difficult to say. It's the events themselves that are hard to say. Alan knows about Polaris. It's kind of hard not to when the Director literally radiates the energy. How much the Writer knows about the Hiss...

Steve glances at Estevez who tilts her head. She doesn't know all the details. They were cut off from the Oldest House. ]

It can be taken over by another energy. Any entity with a resonance. [ The Ranger Captain squares his shoulders as that old military training comes back. Estevez's eyes widen slightly. ] We survived because Faden took the control points back one by one, reclaiming HQ. Her and Polaris.

[ Steve glances down. ] We lost a good amount of people. Not just rangers. We're prepared not to come back from AWEs. There were office workers, scientists, security officers. People who had no idea what the hell was going on. Every single member of Trench's management team. Trench, the previous Director. They all fell to that resonance that took over the House by taking its control points. [ A long exhale comes from him. ] I watched men and women I knew, worked with, went to parties will all turn to it. We barricaded ourselves in. Back up eventually showed up with Head of Security... then, Faden showed up. She already knew the Head of Security. She offered to go in as the fire power we needed to fight the bastards. She and her resonance cleared it out.

[ The Ranger Captain clears his throat and looks back at Alan. He gives a trademark grin that doesn't reach his eyes. He can still remember seeing the new Director timidly walk into the Atlas Chamber and seemingly not want the gun in her hand. She's come a long way. ] Meaning that if Faden has her mind set on something? Nothing is going to change it. You haven't really seen her in action yet, Wake. You'll see what I mean.

[ Jesse lowers her head closer to the floor as their conversation continues on. It sounds like muted words to her as her attention is focused elsewhere. Her jaw sets to the side as her hair begins to sway from the rising energy from her hands. The lights in the Sheriff Station begin to flicker--not on and off, but brighter and then back to normal.

« This is harder than I thought. Why? Even the worst parts of the Oldest House weren't this difficult. It's like it's fighting us. I don't get it. There shouldn't be anything in the way. No Hiss, no other resonances... »

Except there is.

She sees a blanket of Darkness in her mind. It flashes in gray, black, white outlines. She feels a feeling of dread pass through her then and her hands begin to shake. Jesse then touches her head to the floor as the amount of energy she's outputting increases. Enough that it makes both Estevez and Steve turn their attention to her.

Small pieces of furniture begin to lift off the ground around the control point.

A familiar face comes to her mind's eye. A face she loves, but twisted and grinning. Feral. It's not his face at all when someone really looks at it. It's hungry, and angry, and wants that one thing that will make it free.

« SHIT! Shit. Shit. It can be in the whole town! It's not just the lake. It's not just the story. It's claimed all of this. That's why things keep happening. Why artists keep being drawn here. Shit. Shit. Shit. This is not good! We have to--because then we don't control anything in this town. We need somewhere that we can hold. Come on, come on..
Now! »

A small burst of energy can be felt throughout the room. A shimmer can be seen by those who are sensitive to it. Polaris pulses brightly in the room. The devices some agents are wearing seem to come to life and hum. They look down at them and Estevez unfolds her arms and looks around. ]

Director Faden...?

Where's the other point you set up? [ Jesse doesn't move, doesn't look up from the floor. ] Where did you set it up?!

In the parking lot--

[ Steve grabs a hold of Alan and shoves him against the wall at the last second. It's a blur of energy, but suddenly Jesse is at the back door that leads to the outside. She shoves her whole shoulder into it, causing the safety lock to break. In another blur she's out of sight and into the sunset lit outdoors. ]

Faden?!

Edited 2023-11-05 08:15 (UTC)

[ There's not a lot that Alan knows or is sure of anymore. Being certain of anything inside a nightmare dimension that works on the shifting nature of dream logic is about as hard as one would expect. But he believes he's following what Steve is saying, what he's trying to get him to understand.

What the FBC does is not something to be taken lightly. The stakes are high. About as high as the ones Alan himself is facing, if not higher. Although it could be said that if the Dark Presence escapes, the whole world is potentially in danger. So perhaps from that standpoint, Alan's goals aren't too terribly different from the main goals of the FBC. Maybe. But as Alan listens, a wild thought enters his mind. Could I join the FBC if I ever get out? I could help them fight, if they'd have me. It's a long shot at best, but- ]

Any entity with a resonance. So... [ Alan glances at Estevez and the other rangers waiting nearby. ] The Dark Presence. [ There's probably other entities but that's the one that Alan knows best. "Knows", since there's really no knowing it. A shudder creeps up his spine as he thinks about the terror the Dark Presence could unleash.

Alan's expression turns serious and almost as grim as Steve's as the ranger goes on to talk about the damage done to the headquarters of the FBC. The picture he paints isn't a pretty one. But what Alan takes from the explanation is that Jesse turned up and gave them a fighting chance when they had no chance at all before.

Jesse moves into position, getting ready to do whatever she has to do to cleanse the Control Point. Alan waits, holding his breath. It sinks in as he watches that Jesse really is powerful; more powerful than even he suspected. When the lights begin to flicker, Alan startles. But they don't flicker and turn off; instead, they seem to grow brighter. It's Polaris. It's both of them.

But then everything seems to happen so fast that Alan's head starts to spin. With how closely he's watching Jesse, he notices when her posture seems to change. Something's happening. Furniture is rising into the air and floating. A burst of energy rocks the room. A small but powerful shockwave. There's a shimmer in the air that seizes Alan's attention immediately.

Jesse and Estevez have a brief exchange, and to Alan's ears, Jesse sounds stressed. Tense. Worked up. What happened? What did she see?

Before he can do anything else, he feels Steve grab him and shove him against the wall just as Jesse seems to speed from the room to the back door and outside. ]

... What the hell?

[ Estevez glances back at Alan as he speaks up, and is the one that answers him this time: ] There was a theory going around the FBC that every paranatural entity has some resonance it leaves behind. If the Shadow operates the same? Then, yes. It could. If thats what you mean by "The Dark Presence."

[ Steve let's Alan go as his eyes are locked onto where the Director was. He always forgets how fast she can move until he sees her in action. Even then, this was unusual. Maybe not panicked, but, stressed. Worried. He's never seen Jesse lose control, and doubts he will now, but he has to wonder what just happened.

Estevez orders the agents there to start fortifying what they can. Make sure the power is secure. Light for the cellblock, because the leaders of the Cult don't need to die. The agents finish suiting up their odd square devices. Steve takes a look around before he motions for Alan to follow him. He pulls his pistol--just in case.

Jesse has already situated herself down on the other control point. This time her shoes are kicked to the side and her gloves on top of them. Bare feet and hands are on the asphalt as her head is bowed. Her hair is still pulled back in a braid that ends in a ponytail, but it's tumbled over to help obscure her face.

« It's here. It's EVERYWHERE here. Was it always like this? Did the story make it this way? Or did the story grip everything because it's so deep? It's had years to settle into this area. Not just the years since Alan disappeared. Older than that... come on, come on. One last push. Then, all we can do is wait. Come ON! »

Another shockwave hits as Steve steps into the asphalt. He only lowers the gun once he sees Jesse is still hunched in the circle, hands and feet bare. Her head is still touching the ground and she seems fine. Except the keen observer will realize how she is panting and her while body is shaking.

« There that's all we can do for now-- »

Her eyes widen slightly as she feels something come through the Hotline. It's powerful, malevolent. Evil. It's not a message to her. It's an echo baked into the ground of Bright Falls itself. One that is unearthed not by her, but by the two combatants being present again.

『 I am much older than you. Older than your first work of art. I will find a new face to wear. Someone else to dream me free. 』

Jesse feels her legs give out from under her and slips down to her side. Her breath is labored. It's taken more out of her than she thought. The Echo fades and she slumps slightly. ]

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oceanview || ❝ i must guide my love through the night. ❞

OCEANVIEW II

꩜ — initiation.

▼ — return // bright falls.

🕯 reunion.

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