[ Fingertips move along the written words on the manuscript page. Whatever he had scratched out to edit in hardly matters to any version of reality now. Things shifted and changed to compensate for both of them. An element that tried to make the horror story something more human--hopeful. That at the end of the long sprint there was one thing to give the writer hope to fix it all. Now, Jesse can see that asking for this one thing dragged the process out. Made it more complicated.
« I don't know if that's a good thing... or a bad thing. Would it have ended quicker if I didn't ask for this? Would Alice have insisted something like this happen to help Alan? Would Alan still want this in the story after everything? I know... I know he said he wanted it at one point. Is that still true? Or, is he ready to move on without us...? »
Her eyes shift from the paper in her hands to the one that slides from beneath the door. She gently places the manuscript in her lap, unfolding the scribbled paper and reading the words over. Her gaze softens. Scratch said that Alan always knew Alice was dead. What else could he have learned?
Fingers trace along the edges of the paper before she presses it to the door once more. The pen glides along a response under his question that was most likely not meant to be answered. She holds it there for a moment, trying to think of anything else she could put down on paper to give him an answer that may help. ]
Tried to write a delicate story to come home. Tried to fix what Scratch changed.
[ A few more scratched out attempts before the next words: ] Given me something you, or Scratch, or anything else can't take away —— someone who knows what it's like. You gave me Alan Wake.
I think you need this. You'll know what to do with it. —— Take care of it for me.
[ Jesse pulls the paper away from the door and simply holds it for a moment. Then, with trembling hands, she wraps the note around the manuscript page. She doesn't need to write out the details of what the gesture means. Alan will know. He'll understand she isn't walking away or leaving him in the dark. If anything, it's the most precious thing to her, and she's giving it to him to help him. Like it's helped her; like he does help her.
She brushes her cheeks again with her arm before leaning to the side and gently pushing the note and manuscript beneath the door. Green eyes glance upwards at the Spiral on the door. Then, they drop to the floor. Jesse lays the back of her hand on the floor and tries to fit her fingers underneath the door. The fit is tight and she can only manage to get them to the edge of the end of the paper--about halfway through. She presses her shoulder against the door and tries to shove against it to move her fingers underneath further.
« Come on--this fucking door! It opened and let me SEE him and whoever that was inside! Just, budge. A little. Just enough so he can know I'm... »
Her other hand raises and smacks open palmed on the surface of the door. It echoes throughout the empty darkened Motel. She smashes her hand again in hopes that maybe he can hear it. Maybe he'll be able to feel her fingers underneath it when he reaches for the rest of the returned note. Maybe he'll notice... something.
Anything.
« I'm right here, Alan. Please. Just--come home. Come home already. Please. Open the fucking door! »
Jesse slams on it once more before hanging her head. Hands remain where they are before something of a sob comes from her. No, no. She's not going to break down. She's not going to given into this feeling that's trying to consume her. She won't even name that feeling ripping through her heart and that has continued to chip away at it since she heard Alice Wake's message. ]
no subject
« I don't know if that's a good thing... or a bad thing. Would it have ended quicker if I didn't ask for this? Would Alice have insisted something like this happen to help Alan? Would Alan still want this in the story after everything? I know... I know he said he wanted it at one point. Is that still true? Or, is he ready to move on without us...? »
Her eyes shift from the paper in her hands to the one that slides from beneath the door. She gently places the manuscript in her lap, unfolding the scribbled paper and reading the words over. Her gaze softens. Scratch said that Alan always knew Alice was dead. What else could he have learned?
Fingers trace along the edges of the paper before she presses it to the door once more. The pen glides along a response under his question that was most likely not meant to be answered. She holds it there for a moment, trying to think of anything else she could put down on paper to give him an answer that may help. ]
Tried to write a delicate story to come home.
Tried to fix what Scratch changed.
[ A few more scratched out attempts before the next words: ] Given me something you, or Scratch, or anything else can't take away —— someone who knows what it's like.
You gave me Alan Wake.
I think you need this.
You'll know what to do with it.
—— Take care of it for me.
[ Jesse pulls the paper away from the door and simply holds it for a moment. Then, with trembling hands, she wraps the note around the manuscript page. She doesn't need to write out the details of what the gesture means. Alan will know. He'll understand she isn't walking away or leaving him in the dark. If anything, it's the most precious thing to her, and she's giving it to him to help him. Like it's helped her; like he does help her.
She brushes her cheeks again with her arm before leaning to the side and gently pushing the note and manuscript beneath the door. Green eyes glance upwards at the Spiral on the door. Then, they drop to the floor. Jesse lays the back of her hand on the floor and tries to fit her fingers underneath the door. The fit is tight and she can only manage to get them to the edge of the end of the paper--about halfway through. She presses her shoulder against the door and tries to shove against it to move her fingers underneath further.
« Come on--this fucking door! It opened and let me SEE him and whoever that was inside! Just, budge. A little. Just enough so he can know I'm... »
Her other hand raises and smacks open palmed on the surface of the door. It echoes throughout the empty darkened Motel. She smashes her hand again in hopes that maybe he can hear it. Maybe he'll be able to feel her fingers underneath it when he reaches for the rest of the returned note. Maybe he'll notice... something.
Anything.
« I'm right here, Alan. Please. Just--come home. Come home already. Please. Open the fucking door! »
Jesse slams on it once more before hanging her head. Hands remain where they are before something of a sob comes from her. No, no. She's not going to break down. She's not going to given into this feeling that's trying to consume her. She won't even name that feeling ripping through her heart and that has continued to chip away at it since she heard Alice Wake's message. ]
... Alan. Open the door. Please.