[ By the time the ranger captain steps into the area containing the holding cells, the writer known as Alan Wake has dropped down to sit on the bed inside the cell he was put in. The bed has springs sticking out all over the place which makes it hardly comfortable, but comfort is the last thing on Alan's mind. When he first woke up, he was more like himself. He heard the brothers next door to him jeering and throwing jabs and insults, and at first, he threw back retorts of his own.
But they just kept going, increasing in volume and gradually becoming more and more personal. Too personal. They struck a nerve. Several nerves. Eventually, Alan couldn't take it anymore. He all but collapsed onto the bed, his hands lifting to cover his ears. He didn't want to hear the mocking sneers from the two men who didn't seem to want to stop. But he could still hear them even though he did the best he could to block them out.
The constant stream of insults made Alan want to recoil, as did the pounding sensation in his head that only seemed to grow the longer he sat there. As the two brothers kept up their incessant tirade, the pain in his head grew worse. But he couldn't hold his head and block out the voices of the Koskela brothers, so he just sat there and tried to think about anything but the splitting migraine building behind his eyes.
A voice cut through the jeers from the next cell over. What was it saying?
-time. Come on, Wake. You're being moved.
Every other word cut out, sounding like it was obstructed by a buzzing noise. Was that in Alan's head? Was something wrong with his hearing? He couldn't tell. Who's talking? The agents who found me on the beach? Did they come back already? I thought- I thought they went somewhere. Left. Or they were told to leave. Weren't there other agents? I don't remember.
Alan vaguely remembers being found on the shore, being questioned, the feeling of the headache growing worse all the time... and then there was nothing until he woke up here in this cell. There's something weird about this. Something strange. Familiar but not familiar. What's happening?
Alan doesn't protest or even put up much of a fight when the man wearing aviators puts a strange looking pair of handcuffs around his wrists. He doesn't say anything when said man escorts him from the cell to... to where? ]
Where are we going? Have- Have we met before? I don't recognize you.
[ Alan remains silent until they're away from the others who had been watching them. Once they're alone, that's when he begins to speak. ] We've met before? Sorry, but I'm having trouble remembering.
[ A part of him wants to smile at the other man for some inexplicable reason, but the expression doesn't even touch Alan's face. He's still rattled from the constant sneers he was forced to listen to, and his head still feels like it's about to split in two. ]
You mentioned your boss wants to see me. Who's that? [ Alan knows he probably doesn't know whoever this boss is either, but he still can't help but wonder.
It's not until they reach the office that Alan gets the answer to that question. There's a woman there, leaning against the desk, and Alan finds his gaze drawn almost instantly to her like he's responding to a gravitational pull. Suddenly the cuffs are removed, and Steve is patting him on the back before leaving him alone with the redheaded woman.
The ache in his head is still intensifying, but she's talking to him. She knows his name. That shouldn't be surprising, as a lot of people know who he is. Alan nods and instantly regrets it, hands lifting to rub both temples as the pain seems to spike again. ]
Guess you did your research. [ Whoever she is, if she's the boss of... of whoever, she probably doesn't read crime novels. At least, not the crime novels he wrote once. ]
Awake... am I? I wish- if this is what being awake feels like, I want to go back to sleep.
[ No, I don't want to go to sleep. I want to be awake. But this headache can stop anytime. Please.
His fingers curl more against his head, reacting to the continuing pain there. ]
Who- who are you? [ He doesn't lift his head to look at her, as even moving just a fraction causes his head to hurt more. He hopes she doesn't mind his apparent lack of manners, but he's finding it hard to move, even to look her in the eyes. ]
no subject
But they just kept going, increasing in volume and gradually becoming more and more personal. Too personal. They struck a nerve. Several nerves. Eventually, Alan couldn't take it anymore. He all but collapsed onto the bed, his hands lifting to cover his ears. He didn't want to hear the mocking sneers from the two men who didn't seem to want to stop. But he could still hear them even though he did the best he could to block them out.
The constant stream of insults made Alan want to recoil, as did the pounding sensation in his head that only seemed to grow the longer he sat there. As the two brothers kept up their incessant tirade, the pain in his head grew worse. But he couldn't hold his head and block out the voices of the Koskela brothers, so he just sat there and tried to think about anything but the splitting migraine building behind his eyes.
A voice cut through the jeers from the next cell over. What was it saying?
-time. Come on, Wake. You're being moved.
Every other word cut out, sounding like it was obstructed by a buzzing noise. Was that in Alan's head? Was something wrong with his hearing? He couldn't tell. Who's talking? The agents who found me on the beach? Did they come back already? I thought- I thought they went somewhere. Left. Or they were told to leave. Weren't there other agents? I don't remember.
Alan vaguely remembers being found on the shore, being questioned, the feeling of the headache growing worse all the time... and then there was nothing until he woke up here in this cell. There's something weird about this. Something strange. Familiar but not familiar. What's happening?
Alan doesn't protest or even put up much of a fight when the man wearing aviators puts a strange looking pair of handcuffs around his wrists. He doesn't say anything when said man escorts him from the cell to... to where? ]
Where are we going? Have- Have we met before? I don't recognize you.
[ Alan remains silent until they're away from the others who had been watching them. Once they're alone, that's when he begins to speak. ] We've met before? Sorry, but I'm having trouble remembering.
[ A part of him wants to smile at the other man for some inexplicable reason, but the expression doesn't even touch Alan's face. He's still rattled from the constant sneers he was forced to listen to, and his head still feels like it's about to split in two. ]
You mentioned your boss wants to see me. Who's that? [ Alan knows he probably doesn't know whoever this boss is either, but he still can't help but wonder.
It's not until they reach the office that Alan gets the answer to that question. There's a woman there, leaning against the desk, and Alan finds his gaze drawn almost instantly to her like he's responding to a gravitational pull. Suddenly the cuffs are removed, and Steve is patting him on the back before leaving him alone with the redheaded woman.
The ache in his head is still intensifying, but she's talking to him. She knows his name. That shouldn't be surprising, as a lot of people know who he is. Alan nods and instantly regrets it, hands lifting to rub both temples as the pain seems to spike again. ]
Guess you did your research. [ Whoever she is, if she's the boss of... of whoever, she probably doesn't read crime novels. At least, not the crime novels he wrote once. ]
Awake... am I? I wish- if this is what being awake feels like, I want to go back to sleep.
[ No, I don't want to go to sleep. I want to be awake. But this headache can stop anytime. Please.
His fingers curl more against his head, reacting to the continuing pain there. ]
Who- who are you? [ He doesn't lift his head to look at her, as even moving just a fraction causes his head to hurt more. He hopes she doesn't mind his apparent lack of manners, but he's finding it hard to move, even to look her in the eyes. ]