[ 『 I'm sure you won't be waiting for him forever. He'll come back, I'm sure of it. I don't know how, but I just have a feeling. 』
Jesse's gaze falls to the carpet as Alan's words ring in her mind again. Not her Alan. The one on a similar path in another world. One who met her younger and their path starts earlier. Jesse hopes that those versions of them can find their way together and overcome what it seems her and Alan are unable to.
Her head hangs and she waits. Waiting for the feel of the paper at her fingers. Waiting for the door to open. Waiting for Alan to finally come home from the Dark. All these things and waiting because she can't make it happen herself. She can't force any of it, and as she's been told, it's not her role to. Usually she'd balk at the authority and shove her way forward. She would find a way to take it by the reigns and do it her way. But, her instincts tell her that Alice Wake is right. Only Alan can save himself in the end and pull out of this downward spiral he has been in.
Then, a creak.
Jesse's eyes raise slightly at the door moving. Just slightly. As if the door handle had been turned and pulled open just a bit. Enough so that she can see the darkness. Not the entity that exists in the Dark Place, but the room that remains darkened except the light on the desk. She's seen the room, knows it's layout. The Writer's Room where Alan has been stuck for thirteen years.
"Jesse, can you hear me?"
She doesn't put another moment of thought into her actions.
Jesse pushes the door forward with her shoulder, using the powers she has been connected to in order to wedge it further. The door skids across her fingers and she rips her hand back, not caring about the layer of skin it takes with it. The same hand is pushed through the wider opening, reaching in to grasp anything of Alan that she can.
She'll pull him out right now. She'll bring him out of the darkness. Everything in her rails against the idea there is nothing she can do but let it happen around her.
Polaris swirls gently around her hand, reflecting off the low light in the room. ]
no subject
Jesse's gaze falls to the carpet as Alan's words ring in her mind again. Not her Alan. The one on a similar path in another world. One who met her younger and their path starts earlier. Jesse hopes that those versions of them can find their way together and overcome what it seems her and Alan are unable to.
Her head hangs and she waits. Waiting for the feel of the paper at her fingers. Waiting for the door to open. Waiting for Alan to finally come home from the Dark. All these things and waiting because she can't make it happen herself. She can't force any of it, and as she's been told, it's not her role to. Usually she'd balk at the authority and shove her way forward. She would find a way to take it by the reigns and do it her way. But, her instincts tell her that Alice Wake is right. Only Alan can save himself in the end and pull out of this downward spiral he has been in.
Then, a creak.
Jesse's eyes raise slightly at the door moving. Just slightly. As if the door handle had been turned and pulled open just a bit. Enough so that she can see the darkness. Not the entity that exists in the Dark Place, but the room that remains darkened except the light on the desk. She's seen the room, knows it's layout. The Writer's Room where Alan has been stuck for thirteen years.
"Jesse, can you hear me?"
She doesn't put another moment of thought into her actions.
Jesse pushes the door forward with her shoulder, using the powers she has been connected to in order to wedge it further. The door skids across her fingers and she rips her hand back, not caring about the layer of skin it takes with it. The same hand is pushed through the wider opening, reaching in to grasp anything of Alan that she can.
She'll pull him out right now. She'll bring him out of the darkness. Everything in her rails against the idea there is nothing she can do but let it happen around her.
Polaris swirls gently around her hand, reflecting off the low light in the room. ]
｟ Alan, come home. ｠