[ Jesse can't know it, but Alan is having similar thoughts, wondering just how much of this is how he really feels and how much of it is the story nudging him down a path that takes him closer to giving in and giving up control.
I hate this. I hate this story. I hate myself for not being strong enough to control it. To change it into what it needs to be. It's got me thinking I should just give up. Well, I won't.
He doesn't even realize the contradiction present there, because the story doesn't want him to realize it. If he fights back, it can't control or use him. Alan himself can't put a finger on it, but he's caught in the middle between two extremes, and it's all contributing to a state of frustration.
He leans in as they do whenever they press their foreheads together; the action is familiar even with the story trying to force him to forget. But her words wash over him, and something inside him reacts.
So if I give up, if I stop, and the Dark Presence gets out, it's my fault. Maybe it's always been my fault. He got out once, didn't he? Scratch. He took my face and got out. That can't happen again. ]
Am I really, or are you just saying that? Like you said, you're the Director. [ What good am I here? ]
I'm just as powerless as anyone. [ Unless I'm writing. But I'm not writing right now. So what good am I anyway?
He presses more against her, not too hard or they'll both lose their balance, but he just wants to feel her, to be reminded that he's still on solid ground with her, not drifting in the waves. ]
I can't ask you for more than you've already done, and you've done so much. You got me this far. [ He knows he can believe in the words he's speaking. They feel true. They must be true. The Dark Presence can't hide everything from him, even if it's putting up quite the fight.
But the words are on the tip of his tongue, words asking her to not give up, to not let go. He doesn't want to let himself be dragged in, but he still needs her pulling on his hand, pulling him out of the waves if he even hopes to have a chance.
He looks over at the door when he hears the knock, and a look of apprehension mixed with determination crosses his face. If a fight is coming, he's going to be there. He has to be. ]
I'm not letting you fight alone. Even if you're not really alone.
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I hate this. I hate this story. I hate myself for not being strong enough to control it. To change it into what it needs to be. It's got me thinking I should just give up. Well, I won't.
He doesn't even realize the contradiction present there, because the story doesn't want him to realize it. If he fights back, it can't control or use him. Alan himself can't put a finger on it, but he's caught in the middle between two extremes, and it's all contributing to a state of frustration.
He leans in as they do whenever they press their foreheads together; the action is familiar even with the story trying to force him to forget. But her words wash over him, and something inside him reacts.
So if I give up, if I stop, and the Dark Presence gets out, it's my fault. Maybe it's always been my fault. He got out once, didn't he? Scratch. He took my face and got out. That can't happen again. ]
Am I really, or are you just saying that? Like you said, you're the Director. [ What good am I here? ]
I'm just as powerless as anyone. [ Unless I'm writing. But I'm not writing right now. So what good am I anyway?
He presses more against her, not too hard or they'll both lose their balance, but he just wants to feel her, to be reminded that he's still on solid ground with her, not drifting in the waves. ]
I can't ask you for more than you've already done, and you've done so much. You got me this far. [ He knows he can believe in the words he's speaking. They feel true. They must be true. The Dark Presence can't hide everything from him, even if it's putting up quite the fight.
But the words are on the tip of his tongue, words asking her to not give up, to not let go. He doesn't want to let himself be dragged in, but he still needs her pulling on his hand, pulling him out of the waves if he even hopes to have a chance.
He looks over at the door when he hears the knock, and a look of apprehension mixed with determination crosses his face. If a fight is coming, he's going to be there. He has to be. ]
I'm not letting you fight alone. Even if you're not really alone.