oceanview || ❝ made a promise i'm coming out alive. ❞

[outlierdirector]

OCEANVIEW III

and now i'm wide awake.

Oh, I died like a million times.
Through the waves, I break
The nightmares finally over CODE BY TESSISAMESS

Comments

[crazyisinevitable]

[ Alan remains unaware that this conversation is happening. He's asleep and not really dreaming about anything now that the vision of the red-haired woman has faded. It's not really sleeping as much as it is dozing, and it's a light doze at that. But it's the first rest he's had in who knows how long, and at least for right now, Alan's out.

But all too soon, Alan stirs again; he's not really sure what woke him up, if it was just his internal clock saying that was enough sleep, or if some thought disturbed him. Maybe the ache in his head came back with a vengeance. Regardless, he shifts again on the couch and his eyes slowly open. It takes a minute for him to regain his bearings and to remember where he is.

The pounding in his head has been reduced to a dull ache for the moment, but now he has a feeling of grogginess on top of it. He sits up again, but he doesn't stand up from the couch just yet, choosing to just sit there and try and collect himself.

After another handful of minutes passes, finally Alan stands up, knowing he's probably delayed the FBC director long enough already. She probably wants him out of this room, or at least wants answers from him. Everyone seems to be looking for something from him, from the FBI agents to the cult leaders and now the FBC. But there's no ignoring it, not really.

He slowly heads over to the door and opens it, noting right away how Steve is standing there, presumably guarding the door. ]

Uh.. Hey. Is the Director around?

[outlierdirector]

[ Steve glances out the nearby window as the light has begun to fade. It's still bright outside, but a familiar orange has started to tint everywhere. A slight uncomfortable feeling begins to settle in his shoulders. Night is coming. How different is it going to be this time? He squares his shoulders and feels that familiar old military training kick in.

Breathing control. Clear headed. Focus on the mission.

Fuck, he misses being in a plane when this feeling kicks in.

The door opening behind him catches his attention. He half turns, nodding to Alan in a welcoming gesture. ]

Morning, sleeping beauty. Glad to see you're awake. [ That easy grin takes his face. He bets that Alan hates that joke about his last name. ] And, Faden is around. Give it a few minutes and she's bound to show up now that you're up.

[ The grumbling can be heard from behind the door that leads to the cells. Steve sighs and rolls his eyes. ]
Need anything? Coffee? Probably can find some donuts or something if you need something a bit more--

--He's not going to eat it.

[ Steve turns his head to see Jesse walking back up to the double doors. He gives a glance to Alan that says 'See, told you so.' ]

Make sure the morgue is as good as you can get it with Estevez, Sevestapol. [ She nods to the Ranger who gives a small shrug and makes his way down the hall Jesse came from. Almost like they're swapping shifts. She watches the Ranger go before turning back to Alan.

A hand raises to gesture for them to step back into the office. The doors close behind her and she moves back to the spot she was at before. Leaning against the desk, sitting on the edge, hands wrapped around the rim. It's a way to help keep her rooted in place. This isn't going to be a conversation she likes.

An internal sigh. « I really need to stop hoping and having expectations for reunions. They're never what I hope for. » ]

So, I'm guessing you had questions for me, Wake? [ « Best to start off professional. Neutral. See where it goes from there. No getting hopes up or excited. Horror stories aren't meant to be happy. » ] You look like you're feeling better.

[crazyisinevitable]

[ Luckily for Alan, it hasn't registered yet with him that it's growing dark outside. Just because he's spent most of his time in the dark doesn't mean he's ever at ease in it. The darkness is where the monsters lurk, and from the shadows is where the voices shouting or whispering his name come from. No, there's nothing about the darkness that Alan likes.

He opens the door to alert Steve, and the older man greets him with yet another quip about his name. In spite of himself, Alan rolls his eyes in pretend annoyance that has a grain of actual mild annoyance in it, but he offers a half-smile. ]

Let me guess, you're always in a punny mood. [ It's not a great effort, and it probably won't even net him a laugh, but considering his own mood, it's something.

Alan's eyes shift to the door leading to the cells, and his smile that was barely there to begin with vanishes. ]

I'm fi- [ He starts to say before someone else answers before he can finish. That nagging feeling of familiarity prods at his mind again. What exactly is so familiar about this? Why do I feel like I should know this?

His gaze shifts again to see Jesse approaching them. Something inside him seems to react to the sight of her, but he hasn't even the faintest idea why that would be. It's something else he chalks off to the strange nagging feeling that he really should know more than he does about this situation, about the FBC, about almost everything. But whenever he searches inwardly for information, something that might be relevant, nothing comes to mind.

He pulls himself back to the present to hear Jesse giving orders and he stiffens in response to what he hears. A morgue that needs to be prepared... for what? There's only one thing a morgue is used for, and all Alan feels is a sinking feeling. ]

You sound like an officer giving orders before a battle. [ And that only contributes to Alan's growing sense of unease. But he follows her back inside the office, a wary expression now on his face. ]

Yeah... I have questions. [ A frown forms, pulling his lips down with it, and he rubs at his forehead, although for now, the pressure has lessened. ] What exactly are you getting ready for?

[outlierdirector]

[ Jesse gives a tight smile. She is giving orders. She's the Director. Their lives are in her hands. She can't save them all. But, she can do everything in her power to tip the odds in her favor. Now, if only that worked for Alan Wake. ]

The Shadow--what you refer to as the Dark Presence--could find out that you're here. Which means we need to be prepared for Shadowed Individuals--Taken--to storm the place. I'm sure they'd show up even if you were still with the FBI. [ Her head tilts to the side. ] You could say it's not a fan of someone I know.

[ « That being you, of course. We already cleansed the control points here. That's bound to piss it off. The Dark Presence is territorial... which explains why it won't give up Alan. » ]

We'll find a way to secure you. Don't worry. It'll be away from the two brothers. Maybe they can make themselves useful for a change.

[crazyisinevitable]

[ It's insane, but everything about this is insane. I think this has happened before. She's too... calm. Collected. Resigned, even. Have we lived through this before? Or maybe not lived through it? I don't know. ]

So... you know. You know about the Dark Presence and the Taken. But then you need to know something else. [ His head pounds, but it's not as debilitating now as it was when she first tried to talk to him. ]

It's going to find out. Maybe it already knows. But- [ It's not here yet. Maybe it's still coming. I'll know when it's here. I wish I didn't know, in a way. Then I wouldn't have to dread it coming. ]

I think... I think you should lock me back up. Somewhere away from everyone. Somewhere with the strongest locks and bars and whatever the hell else you have.

[ I don't know if even that will be enough. But they'll all be killed if they don't do something. ]

Maybe that'll buy you all some time. Time to get away.

[ They're not going to run. She's not going to run. I don't know how I know that. ]

[outlierdirector]

The Buearu has done research on the area since 2010. Which, I figured, was part of why you sent me after Hartman. The previous Director's Investigations Department had him there for study, possessed by the Dark Presence. [ Her head tilts back further as he says there is something else to know. ] I garauntee it knows what we've done already, or, it's about to know. It's territorial and doesn't like the person I know.

[ « Is he trapped in a loop--or are all of us? We've had this conversation before. How many times? » ]

That's not happening, Wake. It's completely off the table. [ She manages to pull her hand from the tight grip on the table and gesture yo thr double doors. ] No containment in this building is strong enough to keep you in if it finds you. Our containment cells couldn't keep Hartman in check in HQ and we're not nearly as equipped now

[ She looks at him evenly. ]

I either put guard detail on you underneath a stadium light, or you fight with us if it comes to it. Those are the options until we get what you need to end the story.

[crazyisinevitable]

[ He's listening, of course, and he's following what she's saying. Understanding it. It's not difficult to understand. Accepting it is another matter, however. How can I get her to understand? ]

Look, you want to know what was going on before your people picked me up? [ This doesn't feel familiar. Maybe it didn't come up before. If there was a before. Why do I feel like there was a before? ]

I don't have all the details, because I was... going crazy. Out of my mind. Something was trying to take my mind. [ Scratch... ] Do you know how it feels when something is trying to take your mind?

[ Maybe she does, but I don't know how she'd know. I just think she might know better than most. ]

It's no picnic. [ He wonders if she'll make the connection between the headaches and what he's saying. ]

Fine. No cells, but you just need to know, all of this? [ He points at his clothes. ] That didn't just happen on its own.

[ Does she realize that people are going to die? ]

Are you going to give me a gun? [ He's been refused that before, on the grounds of safety, but he can't fight if he's unarmed. ]

[outlierdirector]

[ Jesse falls silent as he speaks. She can hear the agitation in his voice, the frustration. Desperation. He's trying to grab at anything to be able to control something around him--anything. He's being denied it again and again. All it's doing is making him be cornered more and more.

Lashing out to get people to trust him and listen.

She already does but he doesn't realize it because he doesn't remember her.

« It's not supposed to go this way. We're not supposed to argue. I know reunions are never how I imagine; how I want them to be. But, this isn't helpful to either of us. »

Her fingers curl to the point the wood underneath them splints. It can be heard faintly.

This part feels familiar. A different time. Being hurt, scared, trying to reach him. She's not desperate now like like was then.

She reaches behind her and pulls a standard pistol back from her waistband. It was the gun she was going to give him anyways. She has the Service Gun. There's no need for another firearm. Her hand curls around it before holding it out to him.

The moment he puts his hand on it, she uses it to pull him closer. Not intimately close, but enough so she can lower her voice. ]

Yes. I know what it's like. [ Her green eyes stare into his gray ones in hopes he can remember without her needing to give him the manuscript. ] The Cult attacked you and Agent Casey. They found you in the woods. Casey is still MIA.

[ « I don't want to argue. We don't have time. I want him to remember. » ]

Alan. We don't have the time to fight. [ Jesse frowns slightly. It's almost too hard to be just the Director around him. ] There's a flashlight behind you if you need it with the gun. In case we're attacked tonight.

[crazyisinevitable]

[ In spite of his senses telling him that this is wrong, Alan just keeps going, letting every frustrated thought and feeling spill out of him, not realizing that what he's saying is echoing things that Jesse herself has experienced before. If he remembered her, he would know that. ]

I tried to warn the FBI agents about what was happening. Tried to explain how the story works, and how changing it isn't as simple as just writing down whatever you want. [ He glowers in frustration; not with her, but at the lack of willingness from people to listen. ]

I know it sounds insane. It all sounds like I'm making it up, lying for... for what? What would I even get from lying about this?

I've been missing for thirteen years, if I can believe what Anderson said. What would I gain from making up some giant lie? [ A lie about being in hell... a hell that feeds off my mind, my thoughts.. everything.

Alan's tone has changed, betraying his agitation and frustration at the situation. None of it is directed at Jesse specifically, and he's not even really looking at her while the words flow out of him. At least, not until she holds the gun out to him, and he takes it without much hesitation.

The brush of her hand against his stops him, makes him cut off his diatribe of hurt and frustration. Something nudges at his mind again, something trying to tell him to shut up and remember. Remember what? I don't understand. ]

When you say that, I almost believe you. But why? That's another thing I don't understand. I'm- [ He huffs out a humorless laugh. ] It's one more thing to make me sound insane, but I'm having these moments of feeling like I recognize this. It's familiar to me somehow. Not this specifically, this is different. But...

[ His gray eyes lock onto hers in return. ]

You. That agent who was waiting outside. Why do you feel familiar to me? [ His gaze shifts to the gun, and behind him to the flashlight. But right now, they're not important. Figuring out why his mind is telling him he should know things he doesn't is more important.

Is this in the story, and that's why I'm not remembering? Did I write this, but add in something about having weird flashes of familiarity? Did the story make me do this? ]

Wait. You called me Alan just now. Not Wake, not some pun about waking up or sleeping.

[ If he was in a better mood, he'd actually find those funny. But he's just staring at Jesse as that feeling of repetition, of familiarity, takes hold again. ]

[outlierdirector]

[ Once more, Jesse falls silent as his tirade continues. Everything about the last twenty-four hours pouring out of him like a steady stream. Words that would hurt if she already knew they weren't directed at her. Words about frustration, desperation for someone to understand, about the truth of the situation. The truth no one seems to believe.

« We really are alike. Aren't we? That must be the real reason--deep down--that we fell in love. Regardless if the weird and insane was real, someone else believed us. They took the time to listen and not just entertain the thoughts and ideas. Or, maybe I'm projecting. That might just be why I fell in love with him. »

Green eyes lock onto gray eyes. Searching for an answer to an unspoken question: Do I wake those memories up, or are they left better forgotten to end the story?

She's already demanded something of him once. Made him change the story for the one thing she wanted. They got this far before because of it... but there's so much guilt wrapped up in the demand. His handwriting had been enough to tell her how hard her demand was to request. She doesn't want to put him through it again. Not when everyone else must be screaming and yelling at him to fix it.

She keeps her hand over his on the gun. ]

It's 2023. It's been thirteen years. You contacted me four years ago to deal with Hartman. [ Her head cants to the side. ] Time is different between here and the Dark Place, isn't it? It could feel like eternity there, but only be a handful of years for us in our reality--the one you come from.

[ She reaches into the inside pocket of the tactical vest. Out comes a neatly folded manuscript page, torn in one corner. She holds it up between her index and middle finger. If he tries to reach for it she pulls it back from his hand. ]

I'm not trying to tell you to change something in the story, Alan. I'm not making a demand. [ « I won't do it. Not again. I'll force the story to change--not for him to change it. » ] Read it if you want to. If not, I'll keep it on me, and we'll go back to answering your questions. Well, more like your frustrated rambling, but we can go back to that.

Either way, just give it back.

[ Jesse then extends her hand the short way needed for him to take the manuscript. Once he does, she let's go of his hand as well. Both then return to their position curling around the edge of the desk. Her gaze remains on his for a moment more before dropping and looking away to give him privacy. Well, whatever of it can count in a office space that's not really hers.

The manuscript page is like several others. Half written by typewriter, the other half blacked out by furious pen marks. A hole even resides in it, pierced by a ball pooint pen. An arrow points to the blocked out section, and eyes following it would see the handwritten edits.

The Bright Falls Sheriff Station had been confiscated by the Federal Bureau of Control. A shared working space now, but local law enforcement didn't seem to mind. They finally had help from someone to deal with the dark things that crawled out of Cauldron Lake. Even if the locals were upset by the fenced off campgrounds. Better to minimalize damage to what they could control.

Faden was there with her right hand ranger. Sevastopol. They had been through a lot together in the lockdown at HQ. Countless waves of the hissing enemy that took over Sevastopol's coworkers. Team members. Extended family. Faden had earned his loyalty so much that when the Shadow appeared in the Investigations Sector, he immediately jumped into action. Now, he was here in Bright Falls, ready to leap in again to a new horror created by the Shadow.

-->> FADEN AND WAKE KNEW EACH OTHER. WORKED WITH ONE ANOTHER BEFORE. THAT TIME HAD BEEN MORE CONTRIVED. A MESSAGE SENT ON A LINE ONLY FOR THE DIRECTOR OF THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF CONTROL. THIS WAS IN PERSON. SIDE BY SIDE. PERSONAL. LIKE TWO SIMILAR PIECES CLICKING TOGETHER THAT TURNED THE COGWHEELS TO MAKE CHANGES HAPPEN.

FADEN AND WAKE HAD A UNIQUE UNDERSTANDING THAT ONLY THEY KNEW THE DEPTHS OF. A MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING. ONE POWERFUL ENOUGH TO CUT THROUGH EVEN THE DARKEST WATERS.

THE BRIGHT FALLS SHERIFF'S STATION BECAME A BEACON OF LIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DARK TOWN. FADEN'S GUIDING STAR MADE SURE OF IT.

[crazyisinevitable]

[ That nudge continues to grow, to incessantly poke at Alan as if trying to get his attention. To get him to focus. He's trying to focus. To be present. But darkness keeps falling like a veil over his eyes, trying to pull him back down, to lure him back to sleep. ]

I won't let you. You can't.

[ He mumbles those words to himself as he tries desperately to ignore the darkness pulling on him and focus on that nudging sensation instead. The internal battle shows itself as a troubled look in his eyes, but he's fighting. He's trying to stay awake. ]

Thirteen years. I had no idea. [ He looks around the room then, eyes searching it, taking in what furnishings there are. ] It doesn't look that different. I thought, after thirteen years, things would have changed. Technology. I was never good with technology.

But time... time. You know, I don't think it exists there. Calendars, clocks, now that I'm thinking about it, I've never even seen one.

[ His expression shifts yet again, his mouth forming a thin line. ]

Why not? Everyone else wants me to do something. Fix the story. Change this. Add that in. I know it's my fault.

[ Alan frantically scrubs his face with the hand not holding the gun. ]

I'm sorry, you didn't- It's not you. It's- everything. [ He forces himself to take a breath then, in hopes of settling himself back down so he can read whatever it is she's holding up for him. ]

Did I write this, or the Dark Presence? I don't know why anyone would keep a page written by that, but... stranger things have happened. I'll give it back.

[ I have too many of these things anyway. If she wants to keep this one, she can have it.

He takes the page and starts to read, and he only gets through a few words before his breath hitches. ]

I know this page. I- [ His eyes are traveling all over the page now, taking in the blacked out words, the hole in the page, the arrow that he knows he drew there. The edits that he made.

The memory of it is coming back to him somehow. Inexplicably. ]

I wrote this. I changed this. Why? "I'm not making a demand". [ His eyes travel back to focus on Jesse. ] You asked me to change this, so I did. Isn't that right?

[ His tone is neutral. Not flat. Not accusatory. Just trying to make sense of this, when his memory has holes in it and he doesn't know the things other people seem to. ]

I had a feeling that I was missing something, but I didn't know what. I didn't want to say anything, because that sounds crazy, right? As far as I should be concerned, this is our first time meeting, but it isn't, is it? This says it isn't.

[ He's still reading it, but he's read through the parts talking about Jesse and Steve, which gives him back the insights he's lost about the director and the ranger. An image flares to life in Alan's mind: Steve and Jesse together, and she's telling him something. Not giving orders, because a second later, the ranger throws back his head and laughs. He nudges Jesse in the side with his elbow and grins toothily at her.

Then he continues reading, reaching the part that's about them. Again, images flare to life.

He's in the writer's room. Alone. It's silent there, the eyes of the owl on the wall trained on him. He's ignoring it. He steps closer to the chalkboard and picks up the chalk. He begins to write. Not write. Scribble. Furiously. Quickly. Pieces of chalk fly around him. The chalk snaps in half and he grabs another one. By the time he's done, a name is scribbled all over the board, wherever there's an empty space.

The scene shifts again, and this time, he sees himself standing at the desk. His eyes are wild, and the hand that's holding a pen shakes. His entire frame is shaking. His lips are moving but no sound comes from them. Then, he starts to move, slowly at first but increasing in speed. The pen scribbles furiously against the page. He starts to write. Ink flecks fly into the air and land on his face with the speed of his writing. Finally, when it seems that he's finished, the pen falls from his hand, and he falls back into the chair.

Alan in the sheriff's office lowers the page, and his gaze zeroes back in on Jesse's. ]

I gave you this so that I could remember, if I forgot. If I forgot about us. About you.

[ I must have known that something would make me forget. Maybe I made myself forget, to get the story right. But how does that work if the page helps me remember? Does that then change the story? Did I write her giving me the page to read? It just keeps looping and I don't know the answer... ]

Well, all I can say is, it looks like we have to do what the page says, and that's work together. If a fight is coming, I'm coming too.

[ And for just a second, that look of determination is back in Alan's eyes. ]

[outlierdirector]

[ Jesse remains silent as Alan continues to speak. Time, technology. Thirteen years. He'd see how it all changed once they left the station. Cars may still be the same as why change what is reliable, but Bright Falls has begun to change. Construction where the park used to be. Closed shops. Less residents but more visitors for Deerfest. People are older--well. The people he may remember from his last time in Bright Falls.

Nothing is said to his apology or the question of who wrote the page. He'll have an answer to it soon enough. Her gaze drops to the floor in front of her. Something in her doesn't want to see his face as he reads the page he gave her. The guilt of demanding he edit the story. The shame that she even pulled it out to force the story to change to her whims. She can remember him saying he thought it was worth the struggle as he had always wanted them back in the story. After Scratch got her the first time. That somehow still doesn't erase the guilt she feels. Especially as she hears how everyone regards him about being the "author" of the story.

He didn't even write it.

You asked me to change this, so I did. Isn't that right?

« It was a demand... or a plea. Something that caused him pain when I asked. Something that caused him more stress and agony than he needed. I... I don't regret that I wanted us back. Just, how I did it. It was emotional and pressing, but, I know the toll it took on him. Even if no one else knows or cares. I do. »

Her head tilts to the side slightly even with her eyes trained down. ]

Good. [ A flat tone, guarded, maybe a hint of fear. That he read it and still doesn't remember them. Her hands curl slightly more into the desk and she feels her fingers beginning to leave dents in the wood. Reminiscent of another loop. ] We took control of the station already. I mean. Polaris and I. The only weak spot is the morgue, again, because of the lack of light. Steve and Estevez are working on it. Casey is still MIA... and I don't know where Saga is. Though, I'm guessing she'll show up sooner rather than later.

[ She blinks a few times. Mentally trying to get herself up and going from the room. He at least trusts the page, so that's good enough for now. More than she can ask for. ]

[crazyisinevitable]

[ Good, she says, and Alan instantly says to himself: that's it? But he's not stupid. He can read people most of the time, and Jesse's posture and tone is speaking volumes. She's afraid, hesitant. Reluctant to look at him.

Why?

The memories are slowly working their way back in, thanks to the page he's read, but there's still some missing information.

Is she afraid of me? Did she decide, after everything, to keep me at arms' length for some reason? I don't understand why that would be, or why she'd show me the page if that isn't how she feels. No, that can't be it. There's something else. What am I not seeing?

He nods along, listening to her explanation of what they've done so far, and he understands most of it. The mention of Polaris gives him pause. The page said something about her guiding star, but the memory of what exactly that is seems to have not quite reached him just yet. Maybe it will with time.

He has a suggestion for what to do with the morgue, but they've most likely thought of it already, so instead, he goes for the other thing he wants to say. The other thing that, in all honesty, feels more important, at least right now. ]

Jesse...? [ His tone is suddenly hesitant, and he feels his gaze shifting to look at the ground. He feels hesitant, but he knows he has to do this now, before he loses his nerve and talks himself out of it. In a way, it feels like he has no right to do anything, and he wouldn't dare, if it wasn't for that page.

He takes an equally hesitant step closer, but then he stops there before he can go any further. ]

[outlierdirector]

[ Alan has certain ways of saying her name. Ways that tells her his mindset at the moment--the level of memories he has. The Director is a stranger, Faden is someone more familiar. Jesse is informal and close, but Jesse remains a particular tone. A special tone. One only used when he's awake on some level. When memories come back and he knows they are something.

Her eyes lift. After another moment they raise to his, locking onto his gaze immediately. She is scared. Not of him, but that it didn't work. Scared that her hail mary failed and at best will be fragmented memories. Memories that mismatch and make no sense so they are brushed to the side.

Her knuckles turn white as she presses further into the lip of the desk. The wood cracks slightly.

« I just want him home. With me. With the life we've talked about. » ]

Alan. [ Her voice is small and soft. He'll know the tone--won't he? ]

[crazyisinevitable]

[ The strange thing about all of this (except maybe it's not strange to her at all) is that Alan barely knows what his own mindset is. He's scattered, but not to the level that he's been before. But the important thing is that he's trying to pull himself out of his scattered mess of his own mind so he can be there with her. Why? He barely knows. But something is still nudging him to push past the haze in his mind and just be there with her and for her.

His gaze shifts again, moving away from where it was looking at the ground so that he can see her. He steps closer again. A feeling of wanting to lean in, pressing his forehead against hers, and then pressing his lips onto hers surfaces. Should I? I want to. Does she want to? ]

Jesse. [ He's close enough now, so he actually does press his forehead to hers. The kissing... he's still hesitating about that. But he wants to. And as he looks at her, all the hurt, all the confusion, all the desperation of the last twenty-four hours just melts away. The effects of it all linger in his eyes, but over all of it, there's just a look of wanting to be with her again. ] You're here.

[ He does know that tone. He hopes she recognizes his own. ]

[outlierdirector]

[ His tone is what strikes her more than their foreheads touching. The motion they do consistently, but the tone is what tells her that he's awake. Details are fuzzy, like a dream, but what she and Polaris did before this loop must have carried over.

Alan must have stayed awake.

Taking her hands from the desk feels almost like she's wrenching them off. They turn and she raises them, resting both on his elbows. There is a slightly tremor in her hands. The more noticable detail, however, is the familiar energy that seems to just fall from her hands. Like a steady humming stream.

Polaris is there too--of course she is. Beating into the floor of the station and through the parking lot outside. A beacon of amplified light in the darkening town.

Her eyes close as she presses her forehead against his further. Plenty of words come to mind. Thoughts she won't voice as they're repetitive and unneeded. ]

Of course I'm here. You called us, so here we are. [ Jesse pauses to give a sharp inhale. Controlling her emotions. ] You're not going to fight the Dark Presence alone anymore.

[crazyisinevitable]

[ He's waking up, or he's stayed awake, but he wants more. He needs more. He doesn't have all the pieces. They're hidden behind a wall or a door, and he can't get through either just yet.

What am I missing? I know I'm missing something. Maybe it'll come back eventually. But do I even have time for "eventually"?

His gaze travels to where her hands have come to a stop against his elbows. He thinks he's always liked it when she touches him, but now... it feels different. He likes it, and he wants more of it. Contact with another living person. It doesn't matter what kind of contact. It could just be a supportive, helpful touch, something to reinforce the idea that he's not alone.

There's something else too, something besides Jesse's touch, but Alan's having difficulty focusing on it. Maybe he knew what it was once, but something's obscuring it from him. He can faintly sense it, but that's it. It's there, but faint. ]

I.. I called you. I think I remember. Vaguely. Everything's vague, like it's hidden from me. Or hiding. I don't know where to look to uncover it. Maybe there's more answers in that page. Or do you have the answers somehow?

[ You're not going to fight the Dark Presence alone anymore.

She says those words, and Alan's shoulders seem to drop. Not because of anything bad, but because just those words on their own are words he never expected to hear from anyone. ]

It's been... it's been such a long time. I've been trying to fight it for so long. I never let anyone in, let anyone help. [ But she tried, didn't she? It's implied in that page. Or maybe I just think it is. ]

I... [ He's not nearly as good at controlling his emotions as she seems to be. His voice wavers, and a sheen of moisture covers his eyes. ] I don't want to do that anymore.

[ I need help. Is this the first time I've realized it? Admitted it? Even to myself? ]

[outlierdirector]

You sent the message over the Hotline before. Messages on how to stop Hartman. [ She pauses before her fingers curl in the sleeves of the flannel shirt. The one covered in mud and blood. ] Not those messages. You sent another one to us. When you were trapped in the room you wrote stories in.

[ A beat passes.

Polaris beats louder, trying to resonate with that spark inside him. She tugs at Jesse's mind with words and phrases. ]

The Champion of Light--the Torchbearer. Writer. Novelist. [ She finally opens her eyes to search his. ] You're all those things. But, to me, you're just Alan Wake.

[ « My Alan. »

She swallows and decides to move. Nothing is going to happen by simply going back and forth. Talking in circles. ]

The page was left vague on purpose. Maybe I have the answers and don't know it.

[ Another beat passes.

Then, Jesse leans forward to gently press her lips to his. A brief kiss. One almost like air than her lips. Just in case he isn't ready. ]

[crazyisinevitable]

[ Alan's brow furrows as his mouth turns down into a frown, the internal struggle to remember but wondering if he's not meant to remember playing itself out on his face. If I remember, that could cause something to go wrong. But... this feeling is terrible. Awful. I'm losing parts of myself, but do I have to lose the memories that should mean the most to me too? This feeling just makes me want to fight to remember. I have to fight it.

It's a feeling of missing something, missing something very important. It makes Alan feel as though he's lost whatever that something is. ]

A message to you, and... and the guiding star? I should know what that is; maybe I do somewhere in here, but it's obscured. Covered up. I called you because- because I was trapped.

[ Trapped. Desperate. Going mad. Drowning.

The spark is muted again, but something inside Alan is reaching out for it, instinctively. Automatically. ]

Sometimes I think I don't even know who that is anymore. But as long as someone does, I guess...

[ If someone knows who he is, then he can't be forgotten about. Right? He opens his mouth to say more, but then she's kissing him. Well, brushing her lips against his, and then several things seem to happen all at once.

More weight seems to fall from Alan's shoulders, shifting his posture, and he leans forward just a fraction too. The kiss was brief, but he doesn't want just a brush of air on his lips. He leans in more, and imitates the gesture, but he lingers just a fraction longer this time. ]

[outlierdirector]

[ « Is it the story making him forget? Fighting him? It'd make sense. It was a struggle for him to put us back in... and the story punished him for it. If WE do it though, then WE pay the price. He can finish the story how he needs to. We'll do what we can to help--if you're still on board. »

Still, Jesse nods to his description of the recipients of the message. Her hands gently press against his elbows a tad more to try and spread that feeling of Polaris. She'll take the confusion over the constant waves washing him out. This is manageable--something she can help change.

And she's certain that it will upset Scratch. The Dark Presence. The story.

They can fuck off, because she's tires of those three things dictating the story. Alan. Everything. ]

We just need to help you remember. Like we did before.

[ ｟ Alan. Alan Wake. Come home. ｠

Polaris shimmers around Jesse. If Alan can see her again is another thing entirely. For the moment, though, the harmonious resonance is trying to get his attention and reach that spark inside him. Trying to wake up the Champion of Light inside of the Writer.

Jesse would raise her hands to take his head into her hold if Polaris wasn't working. However, he leans in to repeat the gesture. She moves the small amount needed to give him a proper kiss. It feels like electricity runs down her spine. She hopes it never stops feeling this way when they kiss. That isn't her primary focus at the moment though. Now she just wants to help him remember in the only way she can think--remind him what it's like to be them. ]

[crazyisinevitable]

[ Oh, Alan would recoil in horror if she knew what she was thinking. He would reject the idea without even giving it a second's thought. He's had a shift in his thinking without even really knowing when that shift began. The story might need victims; it might pull people in and torment and murder them. But he's never been all right with that. He had to let it happen in some instances, but it's not okay with him. The things that he wrote when he wasn't in control of himself horrify him. That's why so much of the manuscripts are edited.

Now, all he wants to do is minimize the damage and hurt done to other people. If he can somehow put it into the story that the people he cares about are kept out of harm's way, then that's what he intends to do. It has to be subtle, of course, because the story resists, but... Saga and her daughter. Casey. Jesse, Steve, the rest of the FBC in Bright Falls. They need to be kept safe, somehow. He can't remember what exactly he's done in the name of protecting them, because he can't remember that while he's in the story, but he must have done something.

The Dark Presence clearly doesn't like that, even if Alan doesn't realize that's what is causing the ripple of anger inside him.

Get out of my story! You're in MY story.

The thought resounds loudly in Alan's head, and the shooting pain resurfaces for just a second. But it's all internal, and unless Jesse's looking closely, she might miss how Alan's eyes darken for just a second. It's only for a second, and then it's gone, and Alan's there with her. ]

It's going to try and stop you. It doesn't want me to remember. I shouldn't remember, because it's not in the story.

[ His eyes shift again, looking for something that he can't quite see. He's looking for Polaris, that guiding star, but he still can't see her. Can't see the shimmer that he saw in his dream. He can feel her, but just barely. That part of him that's the Champion of Light is reaching back for her, trying to bridge that gap, but so far, it's a slow effort.

But somehow, even if he's struggling to feel Polaris' resonance, he can feel Jesse. He can feel her, and more importantly, the kiss is stirring up memories buried beneath the demands of the story. All he sees are flashes of images, but it's them. They're in different motel rooms, or in a conference room, or in a darkened room he knows too well. But in each one, he's not alone. He's with her.

She keeps finding him in each one, even in a place he never wanted her to see, and in each one, they're home. They're home because they're together.

The words slide out of him almost by accident; he didn't mean to say them out loud, but they come out anyway. ]

Jesse, I want to come home.

[outlierdirector]

[ If she is changing the story then she and Polaris will need to be the ones to bear the price. That's fine by her. She's the one who wants them in reality to the point she's gone through these hoops and lengths. She won't pay a price of death, of course, as that would moot the entire thing. But, any injury is fine with her. As long as it brings Alan home.

The dark look in his eyes doesn't escape her notice. Her hands curl more against his elbows at the sign of it. She doesn't know what that means exactly. The look doesn't belong to Alan and that means it has to leave.

She just wants him here with her. Why is that so damn much to ask for?

The answer is obvious and it makes her hate it all more. Alan has been trapped in a nightmare dimension for thirteen years. The Dark Presence, Scratch, whatever it is has claws deep in him from the constant battles. That's why it's so hard.

« It can't have him. He belongs here. » ]

I'm an outlier for a reason. [ The comment is said gently, but with a bit of pride and even humor to it. ] We don't operate in the way things tell us to. You know that.

[ Green eyes watch his expression as the kiss ends. He's stated his intent and want to return home--to their reality before. Leaving the Dark Place. This time, however, she feels there is a secondary meaning. Her heart pounds. Once again she wonders how he can manage to strike the right cords in her in so few words. He'd say he isn't good with words anymore, but he must be good enough to know how to get her to react.

Her hands leave his elbows to cradle his head between them. A small notion is made to bring him closer and to move closer to him. They're already close enough to kiss and touch their foreheads. It's not close enough to bring him home.

« Haven't we done this before? You and me. It's what we did in the Writer's Room, isn't it...? Did he take that idea and find a way to move it into the story if I showed him that manuscript page? Or, do things naturally fall like this because of the story? Maybe it's pointless to ask. We just go with it. » ]

Then, come home. [ Her eyes slide shut as her mouth brushes against his with each word. ] All you need to do is make that last step. Cross that threshold and you'll be here with me.

[ Jesse want's to pull him closer into a kiss. Her instincts tell her this has to be something Alan does. He has to make that last full motion. A choice just like it was in the Writer's Room. An echo, a repeat, maybe a reused set of events. It worked there, why not here in the altered world event? ]

We're more than just parts to play in the horror story. You're not a character in Scratch's story. You're a best selling novelist--Alan Wake. A real person who belongs in this world. With me.

[crazyisinevitable]

[ Even now, even though he can't know what's on her mind, Alan rejects that idea soundly. No one needs to be hurt by the story any more than they already have been. Jesse might be resigned to sustaining injuries in the effort to beat the story and bring it to an end, but Alan is anything but resigned to that. He can't forget what it was like reading those words on the page and having it sink in just what Scratch did to her. Even in the loops where he shouldn't remember that, somehow, it still exists as a terrible sinking feeling of dread that he can't get rid of.

Alan feels the darkness trying to drag him under; it feels like a cold hand grabbing at him, trying to pull him away. This won't ever end, will it? I'll never be completely awake. Clear-headed. It'll always find a way to get me. Even if I find a way to end the story, will it always be able to find me?

Jesse might be determined to pull him from the clutches of the Dark Presence, but in Alan's mind, the Dark Presence is even more determined to keep him there. Even when the feeling of being dragged under fades, Alan still feels that cold touch on his back, like the imprint of the Dark Presence is still there. Maybe it'll always be there. ]

Maybe more people should be outliers. Maybe more people should be like you. [ If I'd met her before I met Alice... yeah, I know that's a weird thought. But I would've- Never mind.

There is a secondary meaning. He wants a life with her. He wants things that he shouldn't remember wanting, or talking with her about wanting. There were things they talked about, but he can't remember them. So all he can say is that he wants to come home to her.

His head shifts lightly in her hold, leaning a little bit more against her hands. He moves closer to her when she pulls him in, and when she moves closer to him, he smiles. It's a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. ]

The story- the Dark Presence wants me to think I don't have one. I don't have a home. Even if I get out, I'll always just dive right back in. [ It took him some time to realize it, but the Dark Presence is enticing, a master of deception. It wants to lure Alan back in. It has lured him back in. Whenever he goes too far, it finds a way to pull him back. It preys on his fears and insecurities and uses those against him. ]

It wants me to forget that I ever had a home. But I did, at least once, before all this. An apartment, with Alice.

[ He finds it hard to picture it now, and he doesn't remember visiting a version of it several times in the New York of the Dark Place. ]

I want it. No, I need it. I need to come home. [ I'm tired of always drifting. Drowning. I don't want to be lost anymore.

The story fights him even as he tries to push past it, to take that step. To cross the threshold and join her again. He reaches for her with one hand, although she's not that far away from him, but the darkness lingering in his mind is trying to throw up a wall between them. Trying to keep them apart. ]

...stop it. Just stop it. I'm- I want to come home. [ Again, the words aren't directed at her. They're directed at the monsters in his head that want to keep him trapped. ]

I don't want to be a character. I won't be a character anymore.

[ Alan takes a deep breath, and he takes that step. It won't set him free, but it's a step closer to him finally coming home. His lips press deeply against hers, his hunger and need for her all too plain on his face. ]

[outlierdirector]

[ Rather than resigned, Jesse sees it as terms and conditions. If she is to make the story bend to her will and what she wants? She has to give up something in return. She can take on injuries--she had plenty of scrapes and bruises in the Hiss Invasion. The story has probably done almost every injury imaginable to her already--even if neither of them remember all of the times around. It might be a countless amount of times as well. Who really knows how many times they have been around. All she can hope is that this will be the last time.

His small smile is mirrored by hers. ]

The world would definitely be weirder. [ Her forehead presses to his more. ] Maybe too weird.

[ She gently supports his weight as she had in the Writer's Room. The memories are faint for her, but she knows she went there and that they pulled him from the mental depths of the Dark Place. It seems the hold has to have it's claws in him in order for the story to progress.

« He won't ever be really free of it until this story is over. » ]

It's wrong. [ A slight shake of her head. ] You lived here, in this reality. Not a dream reality. You and Alice lived in New York City. You were a successful writer, a celebrity, and existed here. Even if you don't feel like the same person? You are. You're Alan Wake.

[ She knows when he's talking to only things he knows and can see--visions of the Dark Presence and it's minions--and when he's talking to her. She stays quiet as he battles the darkness in his mind. Whether that darkness is the story or things the Dark Presence has done to him is irrelevant to her. It's a darkness that Alan has to beat on his own. She can aid him and show him the way, be that guiding star, but he has to pick. He has to make it happen.

All he needs is the encouragement and support.

His hand lands on her elbow and her smile widens.

No hesitation is given to kiss him back. She pulls him closer, leaning back slightly. The kiss isn't meant to be pretty or entirely romantic. Instead, she answers that need and hunger with her own. Trying to pull him home; wake up those memories lost in the fog of his mind. Hidden by the story. They've kissed like this before--and more.

Polaris resonates louder, attempting to reach the Champion of Light. ]

[crazyisinevitable]

[ If those are the terms and conditions, Alan hates them. He hates them almost as much as he hates the story. The story has done so much damage, and the way he sees it, it's only continuing to do damage. He can try to mitigate it, to try and shield as many people from it as he can, but it's too powerful. The darkness is too strong, and he's only one man. He's only one man who's running out of ways to fight it. Maybe this is the only way. The only choice he has left.

But that doesn't change the fact that he hates it. ]

I don't know about too weird. I wouldn't mind going back to some kind of normal, sometimes quiet life, but- it would be boring if there wasn't any weirdness at all. I could do without a horrifying, terrible story that's alive, though.

[ I could really do without that. Without all of this. But didn't this bring us together? I can't hate everything about this, when this is what helped me find her. ]

I don't feel like that, like I'm still that same person. I don't feel much of anything. Believing that all of that is true, that there really still is a person named Alan Wake is... it's hard.

[ It's hard to believe, but- Somehow, I still know that I'm not a character. That's not a made up name. I actually lived. ]

I lived. I talked to people. Made them angry sometimes. But I lived.

[ The darkness is still trying to pull Alan down, but he's fighting back in his own way, channeling some remnants of determination to try and push back. He might not have much left, but he at least has something.

When is a kiss not just a kiss? When it's something a desperate man is doing in an effort to stop himself from drowning. Except it's less of Alan trying to stop himself than it is him relying on someone else to help pull him out of the waves. He's tried doing it on his own, but that won't work anymore. Or maybe it will and he's just convinced himself that it won't. Maybe trusting others to help pull him out will only end in disaster, but it can't go any worse than it already has, right?

Suddenly, abruptly, Alan gasps, a strange momentum pulling him back from Jesse. There's a roaring sound inside his head, accompanied by a haze of gray clouds and a menacing face baring his teeth at him in a snarl. But just as suddenly, the face is gone, and a burst of blinding light seems to flood Alan's mind. In the center of the light is the woman with Jesse's face that he saw in his dream, and as before, her hands are outstretched to him.

Come home, Alan.

The light fades to a less blinding level, and suddenly, Alan feels himself sag against Jesse; not to the point that all of his weight is on her, but he's leaning against her a little more than he was just moments ago.

He's still looking at her, and maybe it's just a trick of the light, but strangely, inexplicably, his gray eyes seem to have become a few shades brighter. ]