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

[ She doesn't answer right away as the kiss takes center stage. There will be an answer as she already has one. The words came instantly to her mind, which surprises even herself. Then again, Alan has always been able to cause a reaction with his words. Happiness, sadness, anger, annoyance. He just seemingly knows what things to say to pull the right strings to get a reaction.

He whispers her name and an involuntary shiver rolls up her spine. Again, he has that ability to make her react so easily.

Jesse opens her eyes. As normal, they lock immediately onto his. Her expression softens into something gentle, but no less determined. That fire still is in her gaze and seemingly will never leave. ]

I'm tired of all of us being trapped in this story. I want us all free of it. The towns, the FBI agents, my people, you. I want all of it to end. [ Her hands untangle from his hair so she can hold his face between them. A small smile tugs on the corners of her face. ] I want you to come home from the night. So you can be home with me.

[ If only there was a switch that could be flipped that would see this nightmare come to an end. But skipping past the difficult parts, as tempting as that is, might make the payoff feel cheap. But then again, all Alan knows is that he doesn't care if the payoff is cheapened; it wouldn't be, in his eyes. He's been fighting this for so long that all he wants is for it to be over.

There is no magical switch that can transport all of them to the end of the story and the last defeat of the Dark Presence, and it's pointless to wish for one, but still- the thought exists in Alan's mind. ]

One day, we'll be free of it. The nightmare will be over, and you- we'll go home. [ He knows she'll zero in on that slip of the tongue, but a part of him still wonders if the price to pay to end the story will mean he doesn't come home. He can't talk about that with her, of course, because he knows what her response will be. It's just that he keeps it in the back of his mind as a possible end to all this horror. ]

We'll go home, and we'll have the life we wanted. Together.

[ His eyes shift to meet hers when her hands move to hold his face, and his mouth turns up into a small smile in return. It's a small one, but it's not any less loving or meaningful, because he loves her. He'll always love her, even if the story pushes them apart at the end. ]

[ The payoff is not only cheap, but the journey isn't complete at all. Steps have to be taken. Parts of the story need to be discovered. Maybe that was the point of all these loops. Alan finding all the little things he needed and could finally put them together in the right order, the right place, the right time. Or, maybe, it's more accurate to say that he's finally found the way to edit the story that Scratch has written so there is a far more favorable outcome. Not the endings they want, but the ending that has to work to protect the people that deserve that protection. The innocents. The people pulled in.

She does notice the slip of his tongue. Her eyes narrow slightly but no comment is made. What can she say that hasn't already been said? He may not remember the exact words, but she has no doubts he knows what she would say. How she feels. Alan doesn't believe he'll ever come home from the night. He doesn't think he can make it. If he can stop the story, that is enough for him. He'll have made up for the mistakes he's made trying to get this far.

« It's not enough for me. »

Jesse knows he loves her. She can see it in how he smiles, how his eyes soften. He means it as much as he means for this story to end. ]

Alan. [ Her thumbs brush over his cheekbones. A glance down, then up. What she says will be the last request she ever makes from him. Not a demand--a request. ] Say it like you really believe it. Just this once. For me.

Please.

[ That soft look in his eyes doesn't fade, but a touch of sadness creeps into his gray eyes as her words wash over him. He knows it's not a demand; it's a request, a plea that he attempt to find a belief that's buried impossibly far down. It's so far down that the waves are washing over it. Or maybe it's simply buried in dirt. Whatever the metaphor, Alan has to dig deep to uncover that belief.

He believes in it, in his heart, but his mind also warns him that there's a chance the ending they both long for may never come. It's better to be prepared than to be completely blindsided. Still, he knows there's only one answer that he can say. Only one answer that he wants to give, and so he gives it without hesitation. ]

I believe it. We're going to go home when the story ends. The story will end and we won't have to worry about the Dark Presence or the Dark Place again. I'm coming home, Jesse. We're coming home.

[ I see now that I can say that to her, because what she's really asking for is for me to make a decision: do I believe in the ending that we want or don't I? I have to decide, so what I'm deciding is to believe in it.

And armed with that belief, Alan interjects all the certainty and strength that he can manage to dig up into his voice. They won't be separated by realities anymore; they'll be together, in their reality, and their lives together can finally start. ]

We're going to come home. [ We're going to return. Together. ]

[ If not for him to find it, then at least humor her work a lie. Some words to make her feel--even if it's only temporary--that they will have the ending they've tried to force the story to give them. The ending that Scratch won't let them have because he wants it for himself. An ending that feels like wishful thinking but the one she wants anyways.

She brushes the wet hair from his face once more. Something to keep her busy as he digs inside for the words she hopes he believes could happen. His gaze softens and her own focuses back on him.

We're coming home.

The confidence in his voice is what shakes her most of all. What makes her eyes fill with tears and her heart skips a beat. She inhales sharply to control the emotional response, but it is all too clear that once again Alan is able to make her react with just a few words.

We're going to come home.

Jesse lowers her head only so she can reat her forehead to his. Her eyes close. Tears slide down her cheeks. He's said exactly what she wanted to hear. It may never come true, but the reassurance he truly wants it will have to be enough.

Her hands gently slide from his face to his shoulders. ]

I love you. [ « I want him to know in case I can never say it again. » ] Alan Wake. I love you.

[ She gently brushes her lips against his. Her heart quivers in her chest. That feeling she refuses to name shakes her. ]

Thank you.

[ He's not the kind of person who tells people things just to humor them. He couldn't ever do that to Jesse. It's either tell her the truth or say nothing at all, which is why he sounds so confident when he responds. Even though it took him some time to believe it for himself, there's no other answer he could give.

He'll come home, and he'll never leave her again. There can't be any other way for this to go.

He sees her eyes filling with tears and he reaches out intending to brush away any that might stray down her face. And when she rests her forehead against his yet again, he follows suit. ]

And I love you. Always. [ Even if it takes time for me to come home, I'll always love her. I don't want her to ever forget that. ] Don't forget it, and- [ Don't give up. I'd say that, but she doesn't need me to tell her. She hasn't given up even with all these loops. I know she won't give up now. ]

No, thank you. For not giving up on me when you could have.

Edited 2024-05-16 03:05 (UTC)

[ Her head tilts into his hand, never losing contact with his forehead. Instincts tell her that this is fleeting. Something is going to interrupt them--pull them apart. All they'll have is whatever moments can be spared in the story. This is all they'll be able to have of one another as reality.

Fleeting moments.

Her heart beats painfully.

« Maybe the ending we'll have is for another story. What could possibly come after "Return"? Especially if he doesn't return home. » ]

I won't forget. I never do. [ Eighteen years to find Dylan. Eighteen years to prove to the world Ordinary wasn't an industrial accident. She doesn't forget the things that impacted her the most. Now, he's one of those things. ] I won't give up on you.

[ « WE don't give up on people. »

Polaris shimmers in agreement. ]

Edited 2024-05-18 20:30 (UTC)

[ He doesn't want this to be fleeting. He doesn't want this to be brief. Even if he wouldn't know how much time had passed if he hadn't been told, he knows that to him, it all feels like years piled on top of years with no end in sight. How many times has he looped back on himself? How many times has he died and came back in the writer's room as if he never left? All he knows is that he's tired and he's ready for this to end. This nightmare has to end; he doesn't think he has it in him to go on like this anymore.

Thinking about what might be there waiting for him the day that the story finally ends has kept him going, but it's getting harder to keep putting one foot in front of the other. ]

... Even if it seems as though I'm giving up, even if I sound too tired to even take another step, I'm not. I promise. I'll come home. It- I think it's going to be hard. I'll want to give up. I might ask if I can stop. Don't let me stop.

[ His eyes shift to that shimmer that means Polaris is responding in her own way. The corners of his mouth lift in a small smile. ]

I can't ask you for more, but with just a little encouragement- well, maybe a lot of it, I can keep going.

[ Her expression softens. Eyes remain closed. For a brief moment the sheer exhaustion shows on her face. Not that it compares to anything that Alan has been through the last thirteen years. It may even be a different sort of exhaustion, but she doubts that. How much does his mental and emotional exhaustion play into that need to simply sleep and let it all happen?

She can't say she has reached that point. Not that she can stop. She's the Director.

Her shoulders sag slightly from the pain in her back caused by impact. ]

What kind of encouragement do you need?

[ « What can I do if this ends with him still stuck in the Dark Place? We can barely reach him now. » ]

[ And just like that, Alan puts his own exhaustion and worries about himself and what's still to come to the side. He'd be lying if he said he didn't worry about Jesse, maybe even more than he worries about himself. He moves to pull her into an embrace, wanting to just let her rest against him, because it's her turn to just lean against him.

How many times has he leaned against her when he couldn't even stand on his own? He's not sure, but it feels like it's been at least once, although he knows it could be more and he's just forgotten about it. ]

I can't ask more of you, but... if I could, I'd just ask... Never mind. It's enough knowing that you're here, and that you care.

[ He can't bring himself to ask more of her, even if she insists. She's tired too, that much is obvious, and so it feels wrong to put more on her plate than he already has. ]

That's all the encouragement that I need.

[ Jesse follows his direction, putting up no resistance in what he wants to do. Being held and supported like this is... nice. Unusual. Not to say that Alan hasn't wanted to, but more that he has been unable to with the Dark Presence inside his mind. It seems they've found a place and time before Scratch has gotten him. ]

Alan. [ Her tone is pointed and demanding. Eyes raise to look at him. ] What is it? Don't hold back just because I'm ... taking a moment. Okay? Tell me what it is.

[ He knows that tone, and he knows that it means she won't accept any nonsense, not even from him, but he also knows that he's been more of a bother and a headache to her than anyone has the right to be. Most of the blame lies with the darkness that's gotten into his mind, but a good portion of the blame lies with him too. He can't put the responsibility for all this onto anyone else or anything else, even if Jesse might disagree. ]

I don't even need to ask for it because you're already doing it, so let's just have this moment, and a moment after that.

[ He smiles for her and his eyes light up slightly in the process. ]

[ « I don't want just moments. »

The thought feels familiar. She must have said it or thought it at one point or another in the various times around. It resonates inside her and she knows this is a conversation that in some form has happened. Not the words but the sentiments. Hopelessness isn't here this time, but the pain of knowing all they have is moments is what hangs inside her. Unresolved.

Eyes close again and she hopes he doesn't notice the few more tears that manage to slide down her cheeks. She's so tired of crying in front of him. What happened to her? She never cried in front of people before. Now...

Pain twinges in her back. Her hands flex in reaction. Jesse begins to move downwards on her side. The tug at his suit jacket is given for him to follow her. Laying down might be better for the both of them. Just for now. ]

Okay. [ Soft, hushed, almost whispered.

He probably needs the comfort more than she does at the moment. ]

[ When Alan's wits are about him, not much escapes his notice. He's used to observing people, watching and listening and taking note of what they do and say. And Jesse is someone he never minds observing. He wants to memorize her: how she reacts, how she speaks, how she moves. Some might call that disturbing or creepy or too invasive, but in Alan's mind, it's an extension of how much he loves her. If she told him to stop, he would, of course.

He notices the tears that leak from her eyes to slide down her cheeks, and he notices the way she seems to jerk just a bit, pointing to a sudden discomfort. He wants to reach out to try and carefully touch her, to comfort her, forgetting his own rather rattled and startled state of mind, because as always, her needs are a greater priority than his own. But before he can do that, she's tugging on his jacket, asking him to follow her as she moves to lie on her side.

Without hesitation, he follows until he's lying down beside her. ]

... Tell me something you need. Tell me how I can help. I haven't helped you very much, but I want to change that. I want to help you. [ Somehow. I have to help, because I know I haven't been very helpful at all. ]

[ Jesse remains silent at his request. Green eyes filled with water shift downwards. Anything she could ever ask him for or tell him she needs would be impossible for him to give. Not because he wouldn't do those things. He can't. The story, Scratch. They won't let him give those few simple things.

Still, he needs an answer. Deserves one. He won't think he would because of the hell she's been through because of him. In her mind? She does because he gave her something she has never had before. A friendship (at the very least) with someone like her. A connection. Something so human that she never wants to let go of it and feel inhuman again.

« I have to let him go. I don't... I don't want to. Don't make me do this. Please. Don't make it so he is dimensions away like Dylan is. Please. I want them home. »

Even though it's useless to say it to Polaris? She does anyway. That way something hears her. It isn't Polaris's fault. She doesn't blame her best friend. She just needs someone to listen.

Her head lowers. Forehead gently presses to his cheat. Hands curl into fists as she hides the last wall shattering down. He can't see her like this. It needs her to be the Direcfor. He can't... ]

Come home. [ Her voice breaks and is barely above a whisper. Her fists begin to shake. It feels like losing Polaris all over again. Like losing Dylan again. She's more powerful than both those times and still, she can't keep someone with her.

She lowers her head further. Her voice is thick with the emotions and tears she refuses to let out, but they try to escape regardless. She won't let them. ] I--I want you and Dylan home. Just, come home.

[ « Please. »

She knows he had just made the declaration that they will go home. They'll be together. Still, those are the words that come out. Repeated for emphasis. Just so he knows how much she wants to have their ending. How much he means to her. How important their crazy screwed up relationship formed over all these loops is to her. ]

Edited 2024-06-09 18:17 (UTC)

[ He'd have to be blind and completely unperceptive to miss how she's wrestling with things... no, not things. She's wrestling with everything. And a good portion of that everything is his fault.

He feels a compelling force to reach out for her, to take her hands in his and just hold her and apologize for everything he's putting her through. She probably would say she doesn't want his apologies; she just wants him home. But that doesn't change the fact that he feels he needs to offer those apologies.

But before he can do anything, she's leaning into him, pressing her forehead against him and... Oh.

He opens his mouth to respond, but something unexpected happens before he can. It's an image, an echo. He's seen echoes before, heard the words that the echo said, but somehow, this is different. There's no audible words, just a face, a man who looks like he's wearing a suit, but then the suit fades into something else: a strange kind of uniform. Alan has to squint to see what's printed on it. P6.

The man doesn't speak, but he reaches his hand out for Alan, before the image fades.

What was that? Who was that? I think he's important to... What? ]

We're going to come home. Both of us. Dylan and I are going to both come home.

[ And then he really does pull her in closer, shielding her as best as he can with his frame. Maybe someone with more bulk to them could do a better job of protectively shielding her, but Alan's not thinking about that hypothetical someone else. He's just thinking about comforting Jesse. That's all that matters right now. ]

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

OCEANVIEW III

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