[ The world is thick with black never ending fog. Until it pulls back to reveal a place captured from a world and makes people to a merry dance on it until it ends to be absorbed back into the fog again.
Survivors have banded together to make a stand. It may be futile in the end, but the indomitable human spirit can never be fully clenched. The need to explore, to see, to win against the odds. Humanity will make a final stand again and again until they have won.
Or die trying.
That is the situation that Alan Wake finds himself in now.
The Fog crept into the Writer's Room. It invaded, like the Dark Presence would. A flashlight was already stood ready to be used for him. The Fog revealed a dark forest not unlike Bright Falls. Ahead of Alan Wake stood a generator with lights flickering, and a body on the ground beside it. A hatchet buried into the dead man's back. Almost like a Taken attack.
The generator stutters in its hum, almost begging to be fixed.
Then, it strikes.
Whatever it might be doesn't matter. It strikes across the back of Alan's shoulders, downing him before he can even truly get his bearings. Is this a new story? An aspect of the Dark Place he's yet to see? Some weird demented trap set up by Scratch? No answers can come to mind, because whatever struck him is dragging him off on the ground while he's temporarily displaced. Then, in an instant, he's hovering off the ground
By a hook that pierces his shoulder.
Any pleas or cries of pain seem to land on deaf ears. No one seems to be around. Just the dense black fog, and lights in the distance accompanying the stuttering hums of generators. Time seems almost meaningless as it almost stretches on and on. A cold settles in as the fog seems to thicken.
A hand suddenly grabs at his side. Another hand at his other side. Somehow, the hands are able to wrench him off the hook. A woman kneels down beside Alan on the ground, and a hand immediately goes to his mouth. Her other presses against her lips to indicate he needs to be quiet no matter how much it may hurt. She turns to the pack on her side, pulling out what seems to be a rudimentary bandage pack. She glances around and then shoves the pack over the wound underneath his jacket and shirt. ]
Another new face. Looks like you're learning the hard way. [ Authority is in the woman's voice, even though there is a gentle undertone. She wears a blue jumpsuit and has large curly brown hair. The large bag is shuffled to her back as she moves to kneel and gestures for Alan to follow. ] We stay quiet low to the ground. The others have the lights. We're making our way south. I know you're going to have questions, but save them for now.
[ She hands him a container in her hands. Heavy, but not uncomfortably so. ] Don't drop this. You do? I'll put you back on the hook myself. We need it.
[ A gentle meow can be heard. She turns to the smaller case next to her and hushes the organe tabby cat inside. The cat carrier is placed under her arm and with a motion of her head, the nameless woman begins to lead Alan in what is presumably south. Screams can be heard aimlessly in the fog, but the woman doesn't stop. She simply keeps going.
Eventually, the pair come to a old rusted door. She reaches up and pulls the lever down. A warning siren blades with lights flashing. The woman stands, gently nudging Alan with her converse covered foot. ]
Get up. Now. RUN!
[ She makes sure Alan is ahead of her through the door and follows behind. The large pack at her side is revealed to be some sort of gun, which she fires at a disembodied screeching howl. Everything goes dark around the Writer for only a brief moment. Then, the woman is grabbing his arm and leading him to what seems to be a flash of light.
Above them towers an abandoned warehouse. It looks like something out of a zombie movie. Windows are boarded up, barb wire, concrete blocks in front of certain entrances. Yet, lights are on within the building. A familiar presence to the Writer nudges at him; gently and coexisting. One that makes the light louder and itself brighter now that it reaches out to him. A friendly presence that wants to get his attention and welcome him.
The woman keeps walking, but pauses for Alan to catch up. They head to the back of the building. ]
Warrent Officer Ellen Ripley. [ The woman introduces herself. Another meow can be heard, and she holds up the case in her hand. A badge can be seen on her sleeve indicating the name of a vessel she served on. ] And this is Jonsey. I'd give you the welcome speech, but I'm sure Arish will do that for me. Come on, we need to get inside.
[ After introductions, Ripley pushes the door open and leads Alan inside. The warehouse is surprisingly dense with empty boxes of supplies--or maybe it was thought they'd be supplies. After a short walk and heads raising of other people there, Ripley opens another door. Inside is a spacious area. In the center sits a circle tapped area with what looks like away dishes pointed up in certain ways. That familiar resonance seems to hum louder in the room, almost as if welcoming the Officer and Writer.
Off to the side sits a table with a man in a black security outfit and a harness on with a circular dish. A familiar seal of a government agent can be seen on his arm. It might ring a bell somewhere in Alan's mind, or it may not. Ripley spots the man and motions for Alan to follow with a nod of her head.
The man looks up at the two as they approach the table, and Ripley gestures for Alan to put the container on it. ]
Shit, Ripley. You look like hell. Oh, and, hey, Jonsey. You get out again?
Thanks. You too, Arish. [ Ripley's tone is dry, but implies she is all too familiar and comfortable with the type of conversation. ] Anyone else make it back yet?
No, you're the first check in on this run. I'm... guessing you two ran into some trouble? [ Arish looks between them and gives a nervous smile. ] Fuck, another new face huh? Well, welcome to ...whatever the fuck we're calling this. Looks like Ripley found a job for you.
I picked him off a hook, it was the least he could do to bring back supplies.
Son of a bitch. Really? Rough way to get started. Sorry, man. [ Arish stands up to his full height and offers his hand. ] Nice to meet you. Simon Arish, Head of Security. I'd give you the uh, big long title, but you probably don't even know who I work for even if I said it. So, we'll skip that part.
[ This is it. I'm going to do it this time. I'm going to come home. Jesse, I'm going to come home.
It's with resolve and determination that Alan sets to writing. He knows what he has to do: he's going to write his escape. He's going to be laser focused this time, and this time, he's going to come home.
But as he writes, the Fog seeps in, and he doesn't notice with how fixated he is on writing the ending that he needs to see him home. By the time he sees the Fog, it's too late. It's in the room, it's surrounding him, and its tendrils are curling around him as if trying to lure him in. Lure him away. Except it's less luring and more a slow pulling. Insidious. He doesn't even notice the transition from the Writer's Room to... wherever this is. But suddenly, there's a generator and a body on the ground beside it. And just like that, Alan's somewhere else.
Not home. Not the Writer's Room. Trapped again. Or still trapped.
He looks around him, but he doesn't have time to do more than that before he's knocked to the ground, a blow landing across the backs of his shoulders. He falls, and he's being dragged away, and the next thing he knows is an explosion of pain as a hook pierces his flesh and he's left hanging helplessly from the hook.
He cries out and he struggles but the hook won't budge. Gradually, his struggles grow weaker and his cries don't seem to reach anyone. But then he feels a hand on his side, and then another one, and there's more pain as he's pulled roughly from the hook. He sags to the ground, a low moan escaping him before he's silenced by a hand being pressed against his mouth. The pain only lessens slightly as a bandage is pressed against the bleeding wound, but it's not enough to completely heal the torn flesh.
Still, it's just enough for Alan to regroup and try to pull himself together just in time to hear the words his rescuer says. ]
Another...? [ That means there's others like him. Like her. ] Where-?
[ He starts to ask a question, but then he gets the hint. Now isn't the time. It's dangerous. They could die if they get caught by whatever the hell's out there. She hands him a container and he takes it without hesitation. It's heavy, and it makes his arms ache a little, but he tries to shrug that off. Tries to forget that he was just skewered on a hook like a piece of meat. Tries to forget that he was trying to get home. This isn't home. It seems like another hell so far.
What the hell have I done now? How did this even happen? ]
I won't drop it. I don't- No more hooks. [ Except something tells him that's not how this works. He'd ask about the cat in the carrier, but that's another question. He doesn't have time to think about it anyway, as the woman is doing something, and suddenly there's a siren and she's shouting at him to run.
And run he does, although he doesn't know what he's running to. Or running from. He doesn't know what the hell is happening except that he's apparently running for his life. Great. Some things really don't ever change.
Everything seems to blur together but the pain in his shoulder remains just as persistent as it was before. There's darkness around him again and he can't really see anything, but then he's being grabbed at again and- ]
What the hell?
[ Am I still in the Dark Place? This is nothing like anything I've seen around there before. Is this part of the story? What is this? Wait... What is that? That feelng. No, that resonance. It can't be. She can't still be here. Neither of them can. But I know that feeling. I'll always know that feeling.
The woman is a bit ahead of him now, and he has to jog to catch up. ]
Right. [ He nods slowly when she introduces herself and her cat. ] I'm Alan Wake. Who's Arish?
[ He doesn't get an answer to that right off, at least not until he's lead inside the warehouse and past boxes and people looking up from whatever they're doing. They reach another room, and there's a man sitting at a table. Something nudges Alan's mind. This is familiar somehow. Maybe not the man himself, but that seal on his arm. Could it be...?
Alan listens to the exchange between Ripley and the man who's clearly Arish. He doesn't say anything until he's greeted by the other man and welcomed to... whatever this is. ]
Hi. [ Arish. Why does that sound vaguely familiar? And not just because Ripley said it earlier. ] Alan Wake, uh- I'm a writer.
[ Maybe they've heard of him. Maybe they haven't. Either way, this doesn't look like the kind of place where people line up for autographs. Not that he'd give them. He's not the same man who chased after fame and fortune. "Alan Wake, washed up writer" doesn't have a good ring to it.
No, his interests these days are a lot smaller and simpler, even if there's nothing simple about his life. ]
[ Despite the seemingly battle hardened exterior? Ripley has a softness to her gaze. A sympathetic look of understanding. She has been in Alan's shoes before. Except they didn't have a base of operations before. That didn't come until these people did. People she's learned to trust and care for.
Arish pauses at the introduction. He drops his ha d and a wide smile spreads on his face. ] Wait. THE Alan Wake? No way. Ha, wow. Big fan of your books, uh, Mr. Wake. Oh man, Pope is going to be jealous. Or, maybe not. She doesn't strike me as the fictional reading type.
Sorry, you know him? [ Ripley glances between the two. She puts the cat carrier on the table and opens it for Jonsey to come out. ] Are you two from the same world?
Oh, yeah. Obviously if I know of him. [ Arish brushes the comment off easily. ] He went missing thirteen years ago! But, uh, I'm guessing you didn't come HERE then. We haven't found any manuscript pages.
I'm sorry. Manuscript pages?
Sorry, Ripley. Classified information. [ Arish smiles timidly. ] Though, hey, the boss probably wouldn't mind clearing you for it. Given, you know, the crazy shit going on--
--You can shove your classified documents, Arish. All I care about is surviving this and getting home. My daughter is waiting!
[ As the two argue, another gentle brush happens along the back of Alan's mind. That familiar resonance pressing itself on him to make herself known.
⦅ Alan. Alan Wake. ⦆
Ripley scoffs and brushes off the Head of Security. She grabs the supplies that Alan carried and looks him over. ] I'm sure I'll see you around, Wake. Get to know everyone here when you can. It'll help you in the long run. [ With a nod, she takes the large gun at her hip and supplies and makes her way for a flight of stares. One that seemingly leads to another level and past a set of double doors.
Arish sighs and looks back at Alan. ] Sorry about that. It's just. You know. Classified, redacted. Shit we usually deal with here. But, that aside? Having a parautalitarian like yourself is going to make this a hell of a lot easier. We could use more of it around here. Anyways, uh, I'll just write your name down and we can handle the formal shit later. Take a look around, Mr. Wake. The areas secure. And, bigger on the inside. Obviously.
[ Arish grabs a paper and writes Alan's name down.
Another brush against Alan's mind. A tug to go up the stairs but the opposite direction that Ripley went. A familiar geometric glimmer can faintly be seen.
[ Alan's gaze has sharpened just a fraction too as his mind takes off and runs, beginning to process everything he's just learned and drawing conclusions from it. This isn't home. This isn't even the Dark Place. It's another reality, maybe another place similar to the Dark Place, but clearly much different too. He might not know just how different, or what the specific dangers are, but he feels himself already going on the alert.
It seems, though, that there are allies. Ripley seems direct and to the point but not unfriendly, and Arish- well, judging from how he reacts upon learning who Alan is, he might be a friendly face, if not an outright friend. ]
Yeah. The Alan Wake. But like I told someone, after being missing for so long, I'm guessing no one really cares about that anymore. [ He very nearly said a name instead of "someone", barely managing to catch himself at the last minute. ] If anyone thinks about me at all, it's just to exchange conspiracy theories. But hey, you know, for what it's worth, I hope you enjoyed the books.
[ He offers Ripley an apologetic look, as he can tell she's not really fond of being kept out of the loop, even if said loop involves classified information. And Alan himself isn't really sure what to think about anything relating to him being considered classified. But the FBC has policies and rules, and Arish is just following along with that.
He doesn't have much to contribute to their discussion as his attention keeps getting distracted by something: a feeling. A brushing against his mind. A resonance that he recognizes but doesn't dare to latch onto in case it's only in his mind. But that changes when he hears his name whispered. "Whispered" isn't really an accurate way to describe it, but it's the closest thing he can think of. He's heard those tones before, just as he's felt the resonance before. It can only mean one thing.
He pulls himself back to the present as Ripley says a few words of parting before she heads towards a flight of stairs and goes on her way. He makes a mental note to remember her advice as he turns his focus back to Arish. ]
Yeah. I get it, kind of. Sorry to disappoint, though. I don't see how I'm going to make any difference around here. I'm just as lost as the rest of you.
[ Maybe even more lost, considering this isn't even close to what I was trying to do.]
Guess we're just going to be lost together. [ He glances at where Arish has written his name, but he doesn't have time to do more than that before his attention is pulled away by that brush against his mind, that nudge to not stand around here but to go up the stairs. ]
Do you mind if I...? [ He nods in the general direction of the stairs. Something is up there. Someone. He needs to go there. The resonance is beckoning to him, trying to nudge him along, but he doesn't want to just run off so abruptly, even if Arish told him to have a look around. ]
Wait. Are you kidding? Your books are famous. The movies based on your books are famous! If you walked back? People would clamour for your next book. Though, uh, you may not like the movies. They take some liberties.
[ Arish sighs when Ripley takes her leave. Jonsey, however, makes himself comfortable on the floor. ] Ripley isn't fond of being left in the dark. I could get her clearance easily, but, working with a higher up more than being an ally in arms. Something about a fall out where she comes from. Though, she's not really open about discussing it either. She'll come around.
Feel free to take a look around. If a place is sealed off? There's a reason. Rangers outside will be able to tell you why.
[ The small flight of stairs leads to another, but before that, a set of double doors. The gold letters above the door label BOARD ROOM.
Another brush to his mind for him to enter. The geometric light pattern of Polaris can be seen if he knows how to look at it. Otherwise, he will just simply feel the tug he should know all too well to go inside.
There he will find the woman of his search. She faces the door, hands on the table, staring down at the mess of papers in front of her. Her hair pulled back into a messy bun with strands everywhere. A dress shirt and slacks, jacket thrown over the side of one of the chairs.
Sorry, I just- it's hard for me to imagine that anyone still cares after all this time. And I know you can't know, but I had this talk before. [ With Jesse. Why can't I believe it? ] Someone tried to convince me by telling me the same things you just did, but for whatever reason, it's difficult for me to believe. I figured that after thirteen years, the mystique would fade and people would lose interest in my books. I'm still surprised someone actually bothered to turn them into movies.
[ He huffs out a dry laugh and the action makes his shoulder twinge, but he tries to ignore it in favor of continuing this conversation. ]
Well, that makes two of us, although I imagine it's a lot less literal in her case. Something tells me that connections are important around here, but maybe I'm wrong. I wouldn't know as much as you and Ripley, anyway. But yeah, I won't poke around too much. I just want to have a look.
[ And figure out if I'm really sensing who I think I am, or if that's just my mind playing tricks on me again. ]
I'll see you around, Arish. And, uh, thanks.
[ Alan makes a mental note to talk to Arish more later, but for right now, he really wants to follow the resonance. I'm sensing Polaris, but that should be impossible. Except maybe it isn't. Arish is here, and he knows the word parautilitarian. Only one other person I know uses that word. Well, two, if you count Steve. And Estevez, I guess. But she's the first person that I know who used it, so... But why is she here? I have to find out.
He knows that sensation, and he knows that pattern now that he's able to focus on it. It makes him feel nervous and excited, although he feels as though he shouldn't be excited at the possibility of Jesse being dragged into another nightmare. This looks a lot like a nightmare to him, even though he hasn't seen very much of it yet. What he has seen is more than enough, but he figures it's not up to him whether or not he sees more.
For now, though, that tug is pulling at him and he can't ignore it. Not that he was ignoring it at all, but now he's completely focused on following it. He's led to another room, and once he's inside the room, he sees a sight that all but takes his breath away.
Even with her staring down at the papers on the table, he knows it's her. He'd recognize her anywhere. He wants to approach, wants to pull her into a tight hug, but something makes him hesitate. What if she hates him now? What if she wants nothing to do with him? He left her, and she couldn't follow him. And now... she's dragged into another bad situation. What if she blames him and says it's all his fault?
Alan stays frozen in the doorway, torn between walking in and approaching and turning around and going back down the stairs. He's finally found her, but now he's too afraid to get closer. ]
[ A somewhat bashful smile comes to her face. If only because they have never really planned to have time to "catch up." It was always spur of the moment, taking what time they could, stealing something for them from the story. Now... that's not the case. They can take their time, enjoy one another's company, talk with each other. The reality of the situation is somehow daunting as it is some sort of amazing.
« I've never been good at this. Relationships. Now that we aren't fighting to keep it... is it going to fall apart because I do something wrong? »
Her fingers slide between his and curl. ]
Well, the whole House isn't here for the grand tour. Once we're back home I can show you everything. [ Which implies she has already thought and discussed bringing Alan on board to the Bureau. They'd end up having to monitor him as a parautalitarian anyway... so why not just include him in it? He can be a consultant or work on Night Springs, like they talked about. He's too deeply connected to things to not be brought into the fold. He knows too much, even if she hasn't said anything to him. ] I'll get you the formal clearance needed. I'm sure Arish wouldn't mind anyways. And... certain people would feel better knowing a parautalitarian is under watch and part of our ranks.
[ Jesse tugs his hand lightly and escorts him out of the room. She briefly explains that the Oldest House is like Cauldron Lake--a Place of Power. Another reality connected to theirs. It opens to others, and it shifts as it wishes. Control Points center the building, and Polaris' resonance beats through them. Which is why they applied the same principle in Cauldron Lake against the Dark Presence.
What is namely present is the Executive area. The actual business and offices of the Federal Bureau of Control. Not everyone from the area is there, and not every piece of the area is present. Certain places are missing--and the elevator is too. Which means she can't take him to Investigations so he can see how they studied Hartman.
She knows a few heads have turned as they've walked by. Then again, it isn't a secret the Director was close to Alan Wake. The information about what happened at Bright Falls more or less spread like wildfire, and she isn't sure who spread the information. She doesn't say it, but part of her wondered if it was Alan himself, just so that when he did get home it wasn't a surprise. The more skeptical side of her denied the thought, but she still can't help but wonder.
And, there has been no sign of Ahti.
She leads him through a door and down a hall of offices. A desk sits outside a pair of double doors. No one is at the desk. She grabs ahold of the door and presses it open, stepping aside for Alan to walk in first. The Director's Office.
All the small details that would be attributed to Trench have been long gone. Now, just the small touches of Jesse's are on display. Not that there's many. A plant near the desk that seems bright and perky despite the circumstances. A few pictures of her and her management team. Another of her and a woman Alan may not recongize--Samantha Wells. Someone else from Ordinary.
The cover of the greatest hits of the Old Gods of Asgard is also on display. While it's not the exact vinyl? It's still the one her father owned. Some piece of her parents that still impacts her life. Signatures are on it from the Andersons themselves.
Next to it sits a cup from the Oh Deer Diner. She and debated the thermos, but, as one resides in the Panopticon as an Altered Item? She didn't want to risk an interaction of it. Just in case. Something more personal from Bright Falls is always in her pocket, but, she's been waiting on the right moment to show him.
Jesse closes the door behind her and locks it. Polaris will let her know if something needs to be addressed.
She crosses over to the desk and sits on the edge of it. Jesse comfortable leans back a bit, giving Alan the time to look over the office and take in all the little details she knows he picks up on. ]
[ They never had the time to catch up. Time was something they never had enough of, and most of the time, it was Alan's fault. At least, that's how he sees it. When they found each other in the loops, he was always in danger of spinning out, of drowning, putting an end to any kind of connection they tried to form. And even in the occasions when they met each other outside of the loops, something usually found a way to interrupt. But now, the only thing that can interrupt them is whatever crazy darkness they've found themselves in. Maybe Alan should be more worried about that, but it's one of those things that most people wouldn't understand.
For him, terror is the Dark Presence and its realm the Dark Place. This might be a dark place with its share of dangers, but he hasn't really felt that same paralyzing fear, even when he was dangling from a hook. But right now, that's not what he wants to focus on. He wants to focus on Jesse. It's high time he was able to do that. ]
That's fine. I'll take what I can get. [ He doesn't even really expect her to use her connections or his status as a parautilitarian to get him a position, even an adjacent one, with the Bureau.
Why is that? Well, as far as he's concerned, he's got darkness inside him. He's felt the touch of darkness, and there's no guarantee that that touch has been canceled out. ]
What do you think people will think about someone like me having clearance to.. well, clearance period? Arish might not mind, but I'm sure there's going to be some people who won't be so easygoing about it.
[ He remembers all too well the skepticism he received from Estevez, but also from Saga and Casey. It's deserved and warranted, but he expects he'd just receive more of that from Jesse's coworkers at the Bureau.
Still, he silences and listens to her explanation, taking careful note of every word she says as they walk along. He can see the way that heads turn but he does his best to pay them no attention. It's no different from the way people used to recognize him when he walked around.
Eventually, their path leads them to the Director's Office, and she lets him go inside first. Once he's in, he takes a long look around. He notes the touches that look like hallmarks of Jesse, from what he knows of her. Maybe that's just in his imagination, however. But he smiles at the plant, and inspects the pictures. The cover of the vinyl rings a bell and causes his smile to widen more.
The Oh Deer Diner logo causes mixed feelings for him. He's yet to actually be able to enjoy anything associated with the diner or with Deerfest, and while it might be silly, part of him still wants to experience it just once.
He glances to the side when he sees her position herself on the edge of the desk. How many times has he seen her sit like that? ]
Nice office. [ Part of him wonders if she's actually comfortable here, but as far as offices go, it's not that bad. ] So this is where you go when you're not dealing with crazy unexplained events.
[ It may be his fault, but she doesn't see the point in pushing on about it. The AWE is over. They're here, together, even if it is another dimension. The Fog and the Entity are nothing like the Dark Presence. He's awake, clear headed, and there with her. At the moment? There's nothing more she can ask for. ]
You're a parautalitarian, Alan. Most people will be glad you're under the wing of the Bureau. And, you probably know more than most anyways. Before we ... I mean, you knew what you did to write everything with Hartman. That means you'd know enough where I'd have to give you clearance.
[ She watches him move across the Office and smiles gently at every item he stops to look at. She's convinced that he knows her very well--better than anyone. Well, except maybe Polaris.
« Not that it's fair to compare to an alien resonance living inside me. Right? »
Polaris shifts as if she's amused. ]
Paperwork. It's not as glamorous as it sounds. [ Her pose is relaxed against her desk. She's no longer agitated, or afraid, or anxious. This is her and Polaris' space. They can keep the Entity at bay for now. The light seems to help. ] Or...moving around the Oldest House. Desk jobs aren't really my thing.
[ For just a second, his expression drifts into one that's a little far away. He's not drowning or spinning out, just momentarily letting his worries come to the surface.
What the hell does me being a parautilitarian mean, anyway? Of course I know what it means, logically, but- Maybe I can't be logical right now. But maybe it's better for everyone if I'm under their supervision, in case I start acting nutty. Insane. I know she doesn't want to do it, but then they could lock me up. Maybe being under their wing, as she puts it, is for the best.
He pulls himself back out of his thoughts again and looks back at her. He didn't fall asleep, nor did his thoughts cloud over as they used to do. He just needed a second to think. He hopes she can tell the difference. ]
Most people. Some people would be like the Koskelas and want to see me dead or locked up. Don't get me wrong, I want to contribute if I can. If I'm allowed to. But what I don't want is to be the reason people decide they won't work for the Bureau anymore, or that they don't trust you as Director. I don't want to cause you any more trouble than I already have.
[ In spite of the worries that are on his mind, Alan smiles at the thought of Jesse doing paperwork. It's not that difficult for him to imagine that she doesn't like it. He strikes her as more of an action kind of person and not the kind of person who wants to sit behind a desk handling reports. ]
Sounds like you need a secretary. Not that I'd be good at that either.
[ Jesse can tell the difference immediately. She has seen him drown out and drift away so many times. No, this is just him thinking. Going inside his own mind as he makes notes or whatever else he needs. She does something similar when she talks to Polaris. Well, she thinks she does. She isn't sure how it looks to other people.
She glances down at what he says. They're valid points. While she's sure that no one in the Bureau wants him dead? Locked up, studied, put under key... she could see it. Trench and Dylan have burned so many bridges. Ones that it would take more than just her example to show. That's another reason she doesn't want to lock him up. If more people can see parautalitarians can be of use and not just test subjects? Maybe they can see everything from a whole new light.
« Of course, not everyone is willing to change their ways. Even after the dire straits that Trench put the Buearu through. But... maybe if Alan can gain their trust it'd be enough for now. » ]
For now, no one can turn in their resignation. At least the ones here anyways. [ She tries to interject some humor into her voice. Hopefully, he understands she's taking what he says seriously. ] All we can do is try.
[ Her face scrunches at his suggestion. ] I don't really think I would like a secretary. Polaris can tell me if someone needs something. Besides, I can't imagine it'd be a glamorous job. Sitting and doing the paperwork while the boss flings stuff around with her mind.
[ She adjusts how she sits on the desk: leaning forward with her hands still resting on the top. While a lingering sense of exhaustion is there? Jesse is still relaxed. Maybe curious at what he'll want to do. Talking is fine. They've rarely had the chance just to talk. ]
[ For him, a lot of it comes back to not knowing how he's going to fit in around people once he's finally back. It's going to be an adjustment for him and for Jesse, and probably for everyone he encounters. It might not go that smoothly, and people might not understand what he's dealing with. But he wants to slide back into normal life as best as he can, and he can't do that if he's too afraid to face it. He might be apprehensive of it, but that's still not going to stop him.
And really, at the end of the day, if he can do his part to help change how people see parautilitarians, then that's more important than most anything else, isn't it? People might not trust him right now, but maybe he can show them he's not the scary unknown variable they think he is. ]
Well, I don't mind trying. If I don't try, then I'll never get anywhere.
[ Somehow, even though there's resolve in Alan's words, he hasn't yet realized that the sentiments in what he's saying are what's gotten him this far. He had help along the way, of course, but the drive to keep going was always there with him. ]
Even if I was that secretary? [ He can't stop himself from grinning widely at her at the thought of it. He knows he'd be really bad at it, but he can't help but suggest it anyway.
At her question, he just silences for a few seconds so he can just stare at her, riveted as always. Something about her just draws her in and makes him want to never be apart from her again. ]
What now? Well... [ He hasn't forgotten where they are, or that they're still in some kind of danger here, but he can't pretend he doesn't want to just be with her without the kinds of threats they faced before tearing at them. ] We could just talk, or relax a little. [ His gaze travels around her office again. Maybe relaxation in her office would be hard. After all, it is an office. But he finds just being with her relaxing, so that's close enough. ]
Alan, [ her tone is gentle and soft, ] you don't need to apologize anymore.
[ He's found his way home from the night. That, to her, is the most important thing. They can work out communication issues and move forward. Apologizing continuously for the way "Return" ended is pointless in her mind. Especially when she never blamed him for it. It was Scratch's sorry. Not his. They could only do so much.
Now, it's over. He's home.
As close as this place is to home anyways.
He's definitely not boring.
Jesse's gaze snap to Alan's when his tone lowers. She can feel that control she's tried to hold onto. Her back arcs into him and the breath she holds escapes. Her body molds against his as he continues their kiss and moving his fingers. ]
I love you too. [ The statement isn't so much whispered as it is said lowly against his lips, kissing him once more. Fingers thread into his hair and around his chest, somehow able to keep in mind he is injured.
They really should cover the stitches later.
At some point they move to the bed. Well, "bed." More like a mattress held up by a metal frame. Every area has a safe zone, but the Oldest House suddenly provided one conjoined to her office. There had been talk about converting offices to living spaces the longer they had been present in this dimension. There was no clear idea when they'd actually leave... and with how many survivors they kept finding? It might be the wisest idea.
Those are the musings that go through her mind as she lays beside him, red hair loose and wild. Her head rests on his good shoulder, arm draped over him, gaze wandering as she thinks over things. What she needs to tell him, how to adjust for things. A twin mattress isn't really going to work if he stays with her. Should he? She wants him to. Would the rest of the Buraeru react well to it? Most of them are already aware of some sort of relationship, and how she led him off would only confirm that in their minds. So, it may not matter...
Jesse sighs slightly and closes her eyes. She presses against him lightly--only to be closer to him. She's already decided that anything like this will only happen when he hints at it. There's a level of guilt she can't seem to let go. Maybe because she feels she pressed him into feeling worse about it all.
[ His gaze shifts to lock onto hers, and it's clear from the look in his eyes that he's struggling to believe her. Everything is telling him he needs to keep apologizing until he runs out of words or breath or both. She might not blame him, but he absolutely blames himself for the role he played in all of it. Even if a lot of it was outside his control, he still was a participant.
Maybe he'll always wrestle with the guilt and the regret and the need to apologize until he can't anymore. But even with that nagging guilt, his resolve to not be separated from her again is strong. Maybe it's even stronger than all those negative feelings.
All he wanted was to be home, and he fought and wrote and tried so hard to get there. He lets out an exhale of breath when she says those words against his lips and then kisses him again. He feels her fingers in her hair and at his chest, and he shivers involuntarily.
The freshly stitched wound chooses this moment to throb uncomfortably, and Alan's brows knit together as he tries to push away the discomfort. Nothing should ruin this moment, not even the injury that's barely healed. His mind briefly flashes back to a hook and a figure chasing him, and a thought occurs to him: how many times has that hook been used to kill? He was lucky and was saved, but- how many others weren't so fortunate?
But he won't be talking about that with Jesse, not if he can help it. The wound can twinge and sting and flare up, but he won't cause her to worry more than she already does.
Eventually, they move to the bed, a seemingly makeshift one, but Alan doesn't complain about it. He just wants to be with Jesse, to lie beside her and look her in the eyes and know that they're finally together. Finally home. She seems to be lost in thought, so he contents himself with slowly, carefully running his fingers through the red hair that he's come to love so much.
She's resting against his uninjured shoulder, and he was careful to position himself in such a way to avoid agitating his bad shoulder, but it seems that even though he's trying to lie as still as possible, some pain from the wound is still managing to assert itself.
Still, the pain means nothing when Jesse's next to him. He feels her press herself against him lightly, and he maneuvers his arm so that it's curled around her, pulling her in until their bodies are touching even more.
I just want to stay like this for a little while longer. ]
[ Her head tilts further into his hand as fingers run through her hair. It's a gesture he had only managed to do a few times, but she finds she's missed that as well. She wouldn't say she had never felt inhuman. Just these little experiences are ones she's never quite managed to have.
She curls against him, arms moving to curl around his waist. Forehead neatly presses into the crook where neck and shoulder meet. A quiet fills the space where they normally talk as she simply enjoys having him hold her again. Tears press against her eyelids, but she refuses to let them out. She's cried enough around him.
Polaris tugs at her mind gently
« I know. He needs it looked at more and taken care of. I just... let me have this for a little while. Just being with Alan again. » ]
I wanted to give you the tour of the Oldest House when you finally got here. [ Her voice once again slips into those soft vulnerable tones he knows so well. ] Not that I can really do that now. I can show you what we have been able to take back from the Fog. Not right now.
Obviously.
[ She pauses. ] You probably have a lot of questions about everything... and I sort of... well, we can take care of them now.
[ Alan knows without question that he wants to give her all the experiences that she's missed, if he's able. He likes to think that he's good at finding out her needs and wants and doing his best to fulfill them for her, but if there's anything in particular that she desires, he wants to give that to her.
If she enjoys being held by him, he enjoys holding her. He enjoys feeling her arms curling around his waist, and the way her forehead presses into that space in between neck and shoulder. When the quiet settles over them both, Alan lets out an equally quiet sigh. How long has he dreamt of being able to be with Jesse like this? He's missed her too, and in those moments when he wasn't being plagued by darkness, he imagined himself holding her, kissing her face, touching her hair... it was a poor substitute for the real thing, but those imagined moments were all he had. They helped ease some of his loneliness even so, but it was always hard coming back to reality and facing the fact that he was still alone.
But now neither of them are alone. They're together, they have each other, and they can figure out this present problem together too. If she let those tears fall, he'd be quick to kiss her gently and carefully brush them away. She's cried too much and lived through too much pain and sadness; if there's anything he can do to shield her from being hurt again, that's what he intends to do. ]
I still want to see it, but like you said, that's a little difficult now. But when... when the time is right, I do want to see the parts of it that are here.
[ He falls silent for a moment to try and sort through his swirling thoughts and formulate them into questions that might fill in the gaps for him. ]
How long have you and the rest of the Bureau been here?
[ Jesse has faint memories of Alan once saying this is what he wanted. A chance to hold her and be the rock or support she needed. She can't remember exactly when or where she said it, or how she even remembers, but she knows it happened. She curls into him after a moment. The notion is odd and strange to her. Not uncomfortable, just, foreign.
The quiet sigh he gives makes her smirk. At least she picked the right path this time. ]
I'll show you what we've been able to take back. It's not much, just namely Central Executive. [ A hand raises to make a gesture that he can't see. ] Polaris and I have been focusing on that while what's here of my management team works on trying to note who is here and find ways to help people after they... come back.
[ She briefly glances up at him to try and gauge his reaction to that. ]
Time doesn't work here the way it does back home. More like how it does in the Dark Place. I think. It's hard to tell. It feels like it's been awhile now... like a few months? Maybe more.
How long was it for you in the Dark Place? I know it was about a year after for us... did you ever figure out how to tell time there?
[ It's such a trite notion, but Alan's a trite writer by his own admission, so it just seems to track with who he is. He just wants to be Jesse's rock and support; she doesn't need a protector, but if she did, he'd want to be that too. Still, it's enough for him to be able to hold her and give her comfort and support and love when she needs it.
His arms instinctively curl around her more when she moves to curl further into him. ]
Maybe you could describe the rest of it to me, or at least describe what you can, and I'd probably be able to picture it. You know, vivid imagination and all. [ It's too much of an imagination at times, but it has its moments of usefulness. ]
After they come back? [ He figures she didn't emphasize that without reason, so he glances back at her with a questioning look. ] It's not just coming back, is it? It's something more.
[ And he figures it's a something more that he's not going to like. But that just seems to be the way his life goes, and there's nothing he can do about it. ]
I don't know, even now. An hour could feel like a day. A day could feel like a whole week. But those were just feelings, and I never really knew whether it was morning or evening. Still, it felt like years. Long years, and I missed you. I missed you a lot.
[ He leans in so that he can press a deep kiss to her cheek. ]
[ Tim nods once more. Alan can relate, even if it's not the exact same thing. Which is exactly why he isn't pushing his stance. If this place can help him learn about Door? Fine by him. If not? Then, he'll have to find his way back to the Dark Place. Or home. Whichever happens first. ]
Dinner somewhere not in Bright Falls. Just to be sure. I'll remember it.
[ He falls silent when it comes to Jesse. He figures Alan will put it all together here in a few minutes. Jesse can project her guide from what he can tell, but, something tells him it's not just projecting.
He kneels down beside the generator and looks over Alan's shoulder at the situation. He starts pointing to places to repair parts that seem like they're disconnected. Then, the generator starts to rumble. He slides to the side, opening the panel, and finding wires. He tries to get them to spark. A jumpstart in theory--but it's the only theory he can really think of. He glances behind him at the Denny's with the flickering neon sign outside.
Definitely creepy. ]
Alan?
[ Tim looks up over the brim of his hat to see a young woman standing there. Long white hair, dyed purple ends, and definitely Gothic like attire. Her bangs hide a chunk of her face, but he can see the make up on her lips and her cheeks. The Sheriff glances at Alan.
The young woman crosses up to Alan and kneels down beside him. Her arm hangs limply at her side as if it's broken. Her gaze moves over him. ]
Wow. You're really back. They told me people could come back. Super. [ She looks over at Tim. ] You're new. I haven't seen you around. You look normal.
Thanks, I guess. Sherrif Tim Breaker. Well, former Sherrif, I've been missing awhile. Before this. [ Tim shrugs. ] Do you know what's going on?
Yeah, obviously. Get the generator up and running. It'll open the doors so we can get out. Trust me. There's doors. This isn't a real Denny's, parking lot, or place in Kansas. But it is real.
[ The mysterious girl begins to show them what do to, squatting down between them and quietly giving instructions. Occasionally she glances at Alan, almost like she's seen a ghost. In a way that's exciting though. ]
[ Maybe it's weird and nonsensical, but out of nowhere, Alan's mind conjures up the image of a steak dinner. He doesn't really question where the thought came from, and he barely remembers what a steak tastes like anyway, but maybe he should see about finding the nicest steakhouse he can afford. If he can afford anything, that is. But that's a bridge to cross when he gets there.
Alan's mind is still churning with ideas concerning Jesse and her guide when he notes how Tim has kneeled down beside the generator. He might not know a lot about machinery like this, but he can guess that some of the disconnected parts need to be reconnected. Tim sets to work opening the panel and the wires contained inside. Alan's still somewhat at a loss for what to do when he registers another voice addressing him. ]
Huh? Yeah, I'm Al- [ The words die before Alan can finish them, as he takes in the young woman who's just joined them. She certainly cuts a striking figure, but that's not what's giving Alan pause.
Gray eyes take in the way her arm hangs limply at her side, and then... and then Alan's mind gives an uncomfortable lurch. He's not quite lost in his own head just yet, so he manages to reply with a voice that doesn't sound like it belongs to him. ]
...Back? Did I go somewhere?
[ Tim and the young woman exchange words while Alan proceeds to try and follow along while following the instructions to fix the generator.
He's not very focused on the task, as he keeps seeing strange images flashing in and out of his mind. He doesn't know that his face is paling slightly and a tremor is in his hands that wasn't there moments ago.
His fingers fumble with the wires as he sees a flash of a weapon (a hatchet? a throwing knife? some sort of weapon...) and another flash of something red.
What the hell?
Those images are replaced by another set of images: the silhouette of a girl hanging with a hook in her shoulder, and... he rescued her? Saved her? But then- He can't remember anything else after that.
With a monumental effort, Alan pulls himself out of his thoughts long enough to ask a question, hoping he's not interrupting Tim and the girl. His eyes meet hers during one of the times she glances at him. ]
[ Tim wouldn't call himself a grease monkey, but he knows a few things here and there. Enough to be able to figure out some basics before their white haired company joins them and begins explaining how it works. ]
Dunno about "somewhere." Maybe you didn't leave? [ The young woman's voice sounds deadpan, but even Tim can detect the subtle emotion that trembles in it. ] Let's focus on getting this done. We can throw the reunion party later.
[ Tim glances between the two of them again. He notes the way Alan's hand trembles and how his face has paled. It's not quite the same, but Tim has seen him look wild and out of control. He's heard that confused and dazed tone before. ]
Sable. Kinda new here myself. [ She grins at Tim. ] I got the feeling Alan wasn't a veteran here.
[ The generator stutters and then the street light comes to life. Polaris shimmers brighter in the rays for a moment, almost as of she's content. Her resonance seems to increase now that more light is there.
A siren fills the air. ]
Go time, boys. Stay with me and DON'T fall behind. Don't run off and be a hero, okay? Good.
[ Sable stands and glances around for one moment. Then, she is darting off into what seems like the night. Tim helps Alan up, giving his arm a firm tap, then follows after the young woman. ]
[ Alan knows that he's not nearly as useful as Tim is in this moment, who seems to be picking up how to repair the generator quickly enough. Still, he tries to pull himself together long enough to assist in the effort. But he finds himself distracted further by a nagging feeling that he shouldn't be having this hazy, foggy feeling in his mind. ]
But... I just think I'm missing something. Did I forget again? Is this another loop? [ He abruptly slams one hand against his forehead as if trying to shake loose memories he's forgotten. All he gets for his trouble is a headache. ]
Never mind. We have to finish this. Yeah. [ There's a brief pause and Alan tries harder to pull himself back together. ] Sable. That- it sounds familiar, but I can't remember.
[ But Alan cuts himself off as he feels the generator shudder and sees the street light turn on. He feels a sense of relief, of safety, even though everything around them still screams danger.
But he doesn't have time to linger in his not-quite-stupor. Sable's giving directions before darting off, and Tim's tapping him on the arm as he helps him stand up again. He's able to pull himself together long enough to move with Tim as they follow Sable to... to wherever. ]
I think Jesse's guide liked it when the light came back on. Maybe she can do something to make the lights brighter.
[ Alan pauses for a moment although he doesn't stop moving. A lightbulb seems to be going off in his mind; perhaps he should have realized this before now, but he was just a little distracted. ]
Tim, if Jesse's guide is here... She wouldn't be here by herself, because the two of them go together. That has to mean that Jesse's here too somewhere.
[ God, I hope she's safe. She needs to be safe. If she wasn't safe, Polaris would be more upset, right?
Alan's expression is questioning but also worried, because he's getting the feeling that no one is really safe here. Wherever "here" is. ]
[ Tim's gaze narrows slightly at the phrasing. "Another loop." Then, Alan is hitting himself in the head with his hand. ] Alan, come on. Focus. Hitting yourself isn't going to help.
[ He keeps a pace that makes sure Alan is beside him as they follow after Sable. ] You mentioned once that her guide amplified herself off light. Or, used it somehow. We talked about how there wasn't a lot of light for her to use in the Dark Place to do that. Still, she projected herself there to both of us. I'm guessing it's the same sort of thing here. It's not really that bright here either.
[ And, there's the realization. ]
Yeah, I had that thought too. Unless she can just project herself without Jesse's help. I mean, it's a theory, right? We got Jesse out of the Dark Place. Maybe she is back home where she should be.
[ The idea sounds like a long shot knowing their history.
The two eventually catch up to Sable, who is hunted at a large metal door. A hand is on the handle of a switch box beside it. Flashing red alarms light up one by one as unlocking mechanisms go off. She looks over her shoulder, and Tim can't help but do the same.
Nothing's behind them. ]
Guessing the others got out already. No one else is screaming. [ Sable kicks the door. ] Come on. Open up already!
[ One large blasting siren fills the air and the gate opens easily. Sable reaches back and snags Alan by the flannel shirt, dragging him along with her. The injured arm still hangs at her side. Tim is quick to follow, gun in hand, just in case. Not that he really knows what that just in case is.
Sable leads them forward, and suddenly, they are outside a large warehouse. One that should look familiar to Alan. The windows are boarded up and it looks like something right out of a zombie apocalypse movie. ]
Here we are. The Killers can't come here for whatever reason. I'm not high enough on the pay grade to know. [ She opens the door with her good arm and leads the men inside.
The warehouse is filled with crates, endless paper strung out everywhere, broken machinery. Signs of small camps can be seen as Sable continues to lead them through the maze and to another set of double doors. Then, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out an identification. One that's been decorated on the back by occult symbols and personal touches. She smirks at the raised eyebrows from Tim before opening the door by holding her identification up to it.
Inside is a hallway that leads straight to an office room with a large black pyrmaid in the center. Tim looks around, unsettled, because now even he can sense Polaris. Not that he knows it's Polaris. He can just pick up on something he feels he should know. Something that he instinctively knows is friendly. ]
And, just like that, welcome to the Fed Box. Nifty. [ Sable points down to the floor below with the people in uniform running across the room. Everyone seems to be on alert, but, Sable doesn't seem to really notice or mind. ] That guy at the table? Go talk to him and get your cool membership badge. I've got to go and get this fixed.
[ She tries to move her limp arm before smirking. Then, she turns and walks down the other pathway to another set of doors that have Rangers stationed outside them. Tim keeps an eye on her before turning back to Alan. ]
It's the Federal Bureau of Control. [ He nods to the seal on the ground. ] That's the seal that's all over the place in Bright Falls. Feds moved in shortly after you disappeared and set up camp. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised that they're here too.
[ What he doesn't mention is the fact he remembers Alan telling him that Jesse was in charge of these people. He's still holding out hope that maybe Jesse is safe back home. ]
—chapter one.
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Survivors have banded together to make a stand. It may be futile in the end, but the indomitable human spirit can never be fully clenched. The need to explore, to see, to win against the odds. Humanity will make a final stand again and again until they have won.
Or die trying.
That is the situation that Alan Wake finds himself in now.
The Fog crept into the Writer's Room. It invaded, like the Dark Presence would. A flashlight was already stood ready to be used for him. The Fog revealed a dark forest not unlike Bright Falls. Ahead of Alan Wake stood a generator with lights flickering, and a body on the ground beside it. A hatchet buried into the dead man's back. Almost like a Taken attack.
The generator stutters in its hum, almost begging to be fixed.
Then, it strikes.
Whatever it might be doesn't matter. It strikes across the back of Alan's shoulders, downing him before he can even truly get his bearings. Is this a new story? An aspect of the Dark Place he's yet to see? Some weird demented trap set up by Scratch? No answers can come to mind, because whatever struck him is dragging him off on the ground while he's temporarily displaced. Then, in an instant, he's hovering off the ground
By a hook that pierces his shoulder.
Any pleas or cries of pain seem to land on deaf ears. No one seems to be around. Just the dense black fog, and lights in the distance accompanying the stuttering hums of generators. Time seems almost meaningless as it almost stretches on and on. A cold settles in as the fog seems to thicken.
A hand suddenly grabs at his side. Another hand at his other side. Somehow, the hands are able to wrench him off the hook. A woman kneels down beside Alan on the ground, and a hand immediately goes to his mouth. Her other presses against her lips to indicate he needs to be quiet no matter how much it may hurt. She turns to the pack on her side, pulling out what seems to be a rudimentary bandage pack. She glances around and then shoves the pack over the wound underneath his jacket and shirt. ]
Another new face. Looks like you're learning the hard way. [ Authority is in the woman's voice, even though there is a gentle undertone. She wears a blue jumpsuit and has large curly brown hair. The large bag is shuffled to her back as she moves to kneel and gestures for Alan to follow. ] We stay quiet low to the ground. The others have the lights. We're making our way south. I know you're going to have questions, but save them for now.
[ She hands him a container in her hands. Heavy, but not uncomfortably so. ] Don't drop this. You do? I'll put you back on the hook myself. We need it.
[ A gentle meow can be heard. She turns to the smaller case next to her and hushes the organe tabby cat inside. The cat carrier is placed under her arm and with a motion of her head, the nameless woman begins to lead Alan in what is presumably south. Screams can be heard aimlessly in the fog, but the woman doesn't stop. She simply keeps going.
Eventually, the pair come to a old rusted door. She reaches up and pulls the lever down. A warning siren blades with lights flashing. The woman stands, gently nudging Alan with her converse covered foot. ]
Get up. Now. RUN!
[ She makes sure Alan is ahead of her through the door and follows behind. The large pack at her side is revealed to be some sort of gun, which she fires at a disembodied screeching howl. Everything goes dark around the Writer for only a brief moment. Then, the woman is grabbing his arm and leading him to what seems to be a flash of light.
Above them towers an abandoned warehouse. It looks like something out of a zombie movie. Windows are boarded up, barb wire, concrete blocks in front of certain entrances. Yet, lights are on within the building. A familiar presence to the Writer nudges at him; gently and coexisting. One that makes the light louder and itself brighter now that it reaches out to him. A friendly presence that wants to get his attention and welcome him.
The woman keeps walking, but pauses for Alan to catch up. They head to the back of the building. ]
Warrent Officer Ellen Ripley. [ The woman introduces herself. Another meow can be heard, and she holds up the case in her hand. A badge can be seen on her sleeve indicating the name of a vessel she served on. ] And this is Jonsey. I'd give you the welcome speech, but I'm sure Arish will do that for me. Come on, we need to get inside.
[ After introductions, Ripley pushes the door open and leads Alan inside. The warehouse is surprisingly dense with empty boxes of supplies--or maybe it was thought they'd be supplies. After a short walk and heads raising of other people there, Ripley opens another door. Inside is a spacious area. In the center sits a circle tapped area with what looks like away dishes pointed up in certain ways. That familiar resonance seems to hum louder in the room, almost as if welcoming the Officer and Writer.
Off to the side sits a table with a man in a black security outfit and a harness on with a circular dish. A familiar seal of a government agent can be seen on his arm. It might ring a bell somewhere in Alan's mind, or it may not. Ripley spots the man and motions for Alan to follow with a nod of her head.
The man looks up at the two as they approach the table, and Ripley gestures for Alan to put the container on it. ]
Shit, Ripley. You look like hell. Oh, and, hey, Jonsey. You get out again?
Thanks. You too, Arish. [ Ripley's tone is dry, but implies she is all too familiar and comfortable with the type of conversation. ] Anyone else make it back yet?
No, you're the first check in on this run. I'm... guessing you two ran into some trouble? [ Arish looks between them and gives a nervous smile. ] Fuck, another new face huh? Well, welcome to ...whatever the fuck we're calling this. Looks like Ripley found a job for you.
I picked him off a hook, it was the least he could do to bring back supplies.
Son of a bitch. Really? Rough way to get started. Sorry, man. [ Arish stands up to his full height and offers his hand. ] Nice to meet you. Simon Arish, Head of Security. I'd give you the uh, big long title, but you probably don't even know who I work for even if I said it. So, we'll skip that part.
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It's with resolve and determination that Alan sets to writing. He knows what he has to do: he's going to write his escape. He's going to be laser focused this time, and this time, he's going to come home.
But as he writes, the Fog seeps in, and he doesn't notice with how fixated he is on writing the ending that he needs to see him home. By the time he sees the Fog, it's too late. It's in the room, it's surrounding him, and its tendrils are curling around him as if trying to lure him in. Lure him away. Except it's less luring and more a slow pulling. Insidious. He doesn't even notice the transition from the Writer's Room to... wherever this is. But suddenly, there's a generator and a body on the ground beside it. And just like that, Alan's somewhere else.
Not home. Not the Writer's Room. Trapped again. Or still trapped.
He looks around him, but he doesn't have time to do more than that before he's knocked to the ground, a blow landing across the backs of his shoulders. He falls, and he's being dragged away, and the next thing he knows is an explosion of pain as a hook pierces his flesh and he's left hanging helplessly from the hook.
He cries out and he struggles but the hook won't budge. Gradually, his struggles grow weaker and his cries don't seem to reach anyone. But then he feels a hand on his side, and then another one, and there's more pain as he's pulled roughly from the hook. He sags to the ground, a low moan escaping him before he's silenced by a hand being pressed against his mouth. The pain only lessens slightly as a bandage is pressed against the bleeding wound, but it's not enough to completely heal the torn flesh.
Still, it's just enough for Alan to regroup and try to pull himself together just in time to hear the words his rescuer says. ]
Another...? [ That means there's others like him. Like her. ] Where-?
[ He starts to ask a question, but then he gets the hint. Now isn't the time. It's dangerous. They could die if they get caught by whatever the hell's out there. She hands him a container and he takes it without hesitation. It's heavy, and it makes his arms ache a little, but he tries to shrug that off. Tries to forget that he was just skewered on a hook like a piece of meat. Tries to forget that he was trying to get home. This isn't home. It seems like another hell so far.
What the hell have I done now? How did this even happen? ]
I won't drop it. I don't- No more hooks. [ Except something tells him that's not how this works. He'd ask about the cat in the carrier, but that's another question. He doesn't have time to think about it anyway, as the woman is doing something, and suddenly there's a siren and she's shouting at him to run.
And run he does, although he doesn't know what he's running to. Or running from. He doesn't know what the hell is happening except that he's apparently running for his life. Great. Some things really don't ever change.
Everything seems to blur together but the pain in his shoulder remains just as persistent as it was before. There's darkness around him again and he can't really see anything, but then he's being grabbed at again and- ]
What the hell?
[ Am I still in the Dark Place? This is nothing like anything I've seen around there before. Is this part of the story? What is this? Wait... What is that? That feelng. No, that resonance. It can't be. She can't still be here. Neither of them can. But I know that feeling. I'll always know that feeling.
The woman is a bit ahead of him now, and he has to jog to catch up. ]
Right. [ He nods slowly when she introduces herself and her cat. ] I'm Alan Wake. Who's Arish?
[ He doesn't get an answer to that right off, at least not until he's lead inside the warehouse and past boxes and people looking up from whatever they're doing. They reach another room, and there's a man sitting at a table. Something nudges Alan's mind. This is familiar somehow. Maybe not the man himself, but that seal on his arm. Could it be...?
Alan listens to the exchange between Ripley and the man who's clearly Arish. He doesn't say anything until he's greeted by the other man and welcomed to... whatever this is. ]
Hi. [ Arish. Why does that sound vaguely familiar? And not just because Ripley said it earlier. ] Alan Wake, uh- I'm a writer.
[ Maybe they've heard of him. Maybe they haven't. Either way, this doesn't look like the kind of place where people line up for autographs. Not that he'd give them. He's not the same man who chased after fame and fortune. "Alan Wake, washed up writer" doesn't have a good ring to it.
No, his interests these days are a lot smaller and simpler, even if there's nothing simple about his life. ]
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Arish pauses at the introduction. He drops his ha d and a wide smile spreads on his face. ] Wait. THE Alan Wake? No way. Ha, wow. Big fan of your books, uh, Mr. Wake. Oh man, Pope is going to be jealous. Or, maybe not. She doesn't strike me as the fictional reading type.
Sorry, you know him? [ Ripley glances between the two. She puts the cat carrier on the table and opens it for Jonsey to come out. ] Are you two from the same world?
Oh, yeah. Obviously if I know of him. [ Arish brushes the comment off easily. ] He went missing thirteen years ago! But, uh, I'm guessing you didn't come HERE then. We haven't found any manuscript pages.
I'm sorry. Manuscript pages?
Sorry, Ripley. Classified information. [ Arish smiles timidly. ] Though, hey, the boss probably wouldn't mind clearing you for it. Given, you know, the crazy shit going on--
--You can shove your classified documents, Arish. All I care about is surviving this and getting home. My daughter is waiting!
[ As the two argue, another gentle brush happens along the back of Alan's mind. That familiar resonance pressing itself on him to make herself known.
⦅ Alan. Alan Wake. ⦆
Ripley scoffs and brushes off the Head of Security. She grabs the supplies that Alan carried and looks him over. ] I'm sure I'll see you around, Wake. Get to know everyone here when you can. It'll help you in the long run. [ With a nod, she takes the large gun at her hip and supplies and makes her way for a flight of stares. One that seemingly leads to another level and past a set of double doors.
Arish sighs and looks back at Alan. ] Sorry about that. It's just. You know. Classified, redacted. Shit we usually deal with here. But, that aside? Having a parautalitarian like yourself is going to make this a hell of a lot easier. We could use more of it around here. Anyways, uh, I'll just write your name down and we can handle the formal shit later. Take a look around, Mr. Wake. The areas secure. And, bigger on the inside. Obviously.
[ Arish grabs a paper and writes Alan's name down.
Another brush against Alan's mind. A tug to go up the stairs but the opposite direction that Ripley went. A familiar geometric glimmer can faintly be seen.
⦅ Alan. ⦆ ]
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It seems, though, that there are allies. Ripley seems direct and to the point but not unfriendly, and Arish- well, judging from how he reacts upon learning who Alan is, he might be a friendly face, if not an outright friend. ]
Yeah. The Alan Wake. But like I told someone, after being missing for so long, I'm guessing no one really cares about that anymore. [ He very nearly said a name instead of "someone", barely managing to catch himself at the last minute. ] If anyone thinks about me at all, it's just to exchange conspiracy theories. But hey, you know, for what it's worth, I hope you enjoyed the books.
[ He offers Ripley an apologetic look, as he can tell she's not really fond of being kept out of the loop, even if said loop involves classified information. And Alan himself isn't really sure what to think about anything relating to him being considered classified. But the FBC has policies and rules, and Arish is just following along with that.
He doesn't have much to contribute to their discussion as his attention keeps getting distracted by something: a feeling. A brushing against his mind. A resonance that he recognizes but doesn't dare to latch onto in case it's only in his mind. But that changes when he hears his name whispered. "Whispered" isn't really an accurate way to describe it, but it's the closest thing he can think of. He's heard those tones before, just as he's felt the resonance before. It can only mean one thing.
He pulls himself back to the present as Ripley says a few words of parting before she heads towards a flight of stairs and goes on her way. He makes a mental note to remember her advice as he turns his focus back to Arish. ]
Yeah. I get it, kind of. Sorry to disappoint, though. I don't see how I'm going to make any difference around here. I'm just as lost as the rest of you.
[ Maybe even more lost, considering this isn't even close to what I was trying to do.]
Guess we're just going to be lost together. [ He glances at where Arish has written his name, but he doesn't have time to do more than that before his attention is pulled away by that brush against his mind, that nudge to not stand around here but to go up the stairs. ]
Do you mind if I...? [ He nods in the general direction of the stairs. Something is up there. Someone. He needs to go there. The resonance is beckoning to him, trying to nudge him along, but he doesn't want to just run off so abruptly, even if Arish told him to have a look around. ]
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[ Arish sighs when Ripley takes her leave. Jonsey, however, makes himself comfortable on the floor. ] Ripley isn't fond of being left in the dark. I could get her clearance easily, but, working with a higher up more than being an ally in arms. Something about a fall out where she comes from. Though, she's not really open about discussing it either. She'll come around.
Feel free to take a look around. If a place is sealed off? There's a reason. Rangers outside will be able to tell you why.
[ The small flight of stairs leads to another, but before that, a set of double doors. The gold letters above the door label BOARD ROOM.
Another brush to his mind for him to enter. The geometric light pattern of Polaris can be seen if he knows how to look at it. Otherwise, he will just simply feel the tug he should know all too well to go inside.
There he will find the woman of his search. She faces the door, hands on the table, staring down at the mess of papers in front of her. Her hair pulled back into a messy bun with strands everywhere. A dress shirt and slacks, jacket thrown over the side of one of the chairs.
The Director of the Federal Bureau of Control. ]
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[ He huffs out a dry laugh and the action makes his shoulder twinge, but he tries to ignore it in favor of continuing this conversation. ]
Well, that makes two of us, although I imagine it's a lot less literal in her case. Something tells me that connections are important around here, but maybe I'm wrong. I wouldn't know as much as you and Ripley, anyway. But yeah, I won't poke around too much. I just want to have a look.
[ And figure out if I'm really sensing who I think I am, or if that's just my mind playing tricks on me again. ]
I'll see you around, Arish. And, uh, thanks.
[ Alan makes a mental note to talk to Arish more later, but for right now, he really wants to follow the resonance. I'm sensing Polaris, but that should be impossible. Except maybe it isn't. Arish is here, and he knows the word parautilitarian. Only one other person I know uses that word. Well, two, if you count Steve. And Estevez, I guess. But she's the first person that I know who used it, so... But why is she here? I have to find out.
He knows that sensation, and he knows that pattern now that he's able to focus on it. It makes him feel nervous and excited, although he feels as though he shouldn't be excited at the possibility of Jesse being dragged into another nightmare. This looks a lot like a nightmare to him, even though he hasn't seen very much of it yet. What he has seen is more than enough, but he figures it's not up to him whether or not he sees more.
For now, though, that tug is pulling at him and he can't ignore it. Not that he was ignoring it at all, but now he's completely focused on following it. He's led to another room, and once he's inside the room, he sees a sight that all but takes his breath away.
Even with her staring down at the papers on the table, he knows it's her. He'd recognize her anywhere. He wants to approach, wants to pull her into a tight hug, but something makes him hesitate. What if she hates him now? What if she wants nothing to do with him? He left her, and she couldn't follow him. And now... she's dragged into another bad situation. What if she blames him and says it's all his fault?
Alan stays frozen in the doorway, torn between walking in and approaching and turning around and going back down the stairs. He's finally found her, but now he's too afraid to get closer. ]
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[ A somewhat bashful smile comes to her face. If only because they have never really planned to have time to "catch up." It was always spur of the moment, taking what time they could, stealing something for them from the story. Now... that's not the case. They can take their time, enjoy one another's company, talk with each other. The reality of the situation is somehow daunting as it is some sort of amazing.
« I've never been good at this. Relationships. Now that we aren't fighting to keep it... is it going to fall apart because I do something wrong? »
Her fingers slide between his and curl. ]
Well, the whole House isn't here for the grand tour. Once we're back home I can show you everything. [ Which implies she has already thought and discussed bringing Alan on board to the Bureau. They'd end up having to monitor him as a parautalitarian anyway... so why not just include him in it? He can be a consultant or work on Night Springs, like they talked about. He's too deeply connected to things to not be brought into the fold. He knows too much, even if she hasn't said anything to him. ] I'll get you the formal clearance needed. I'm sure Arish wouldn't mind anyways. And... certain people would feel better knowing a parautalitarian is under watch and part of our ranks.
[ Jesse tugs his hand lightly and escorts him out of the room. She briefly explains that the Oldest House is like Cauldron Lake--a Place of Power. Another reality connected to theirs. It opens to others, and it shifts as it wishes. Control Points center the building, and Polaris' resonance beats through them. Which is why they applied the same principle in Cauldron Lake against the Dark Presence.
What is namely present is the Executive area. The actual business and offices of the Federal Bureau of Control. Not everyone from the area is there, and not every piece of the area is present. Certain places are missing--and the elevator is too. Which means she can't take him to Investigations so he can see how they studied Hartman.
She knows a few heads have turned as they've walked by. Then again, it isn't a secret the Director was close to Alan Wake. The information about what happened at Bright Falls more or less spread like wildfire, and she isn't sure who spread the information. She doesn't say it, but part of her wondered if it was Alan himself, just so that when he did get home it wasn't a surprise. The more skeptical side of her denied the thought, but she still can't help but wonder.
And, there has been no sign of Ahti.
She leads him through a door and down a hall of offices. A desk sits outside a pair of double doors. No one is at the desk. She grabs ahold of the door and presses it open, stepping aside for Alan to walk in first. The Director's Office.
All the small details that would be attributed to Trench have been long gone. Now, just the small touches of Jesse's are on display. Not that there's many. A plant near the desk that seems bright and perky despite the circumstances. A few pictures of her and her management team. Another of her and a woman Alan may not recongize--Samantha Wells. Someone else from Ordinary.
The cover of the greatest hits of the Old Gods of Asgard is also on display. While it's not the exact vinyl? It's still the one her father owned. Some piece of her parents that still impacts her life. Signatures are on it from the Andersons themselves.
Next to it sits a cup from the Oh Deer Diner. She and debated the thermos, but, as one resides in the Panopticon as an Altered Item? She didn't want to risk an interaction of it. Just in case. Something more personal from Bright Falls is always in her pocket, but, she's been waiting on the right moment to show him.
Jesse closes the door behind her and locks it. Polaris will let her know if something needs to be addressed.
She crosses over to the desk and sits on the edge of it. Jesse comfortable leans back a bit, giving Alan the time to look over the office and take in all the little details she knows he picks up on. ]
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For him, terror is the Dark Presence and its realm the Dark Place. This might be a dark place with its share of dangers, but he hasn't really felt that same paralyzing fear, even when he was dangling from a hook. But right now, that's not what he wants to focus on. He wants to focus on Jesse. It's high time he was able to do that. ]
That's fine. I'll take what I can get. [ He doesn't even really expect her to use her connections or his status as a parautilitarian to get him a position, even an adjacent one, with the Bureau.
Why is that? Well, as far as he's concerned, he's got darkness inside him. He's felt the touch of darkness, and there's no guarantee that that touch has been canceled out. ]
What do you think people will think about someone like me having clearance to.. well, clearance period? Arish might not mind, but I'm sure there's going to be some people who won't be so easygoing about it.
[ He remembers all too well the skepticism he received from Estevez, but also from Saga and Casey. It's deserved and warranted, but he expects he'd just receive more of that from Jesse's coworkers at the Bureau.
Still, he silences and listens to her explanation, taking careful note of every word she says as they walk along. He can see the way that heads turn but he does his best to pay them no attention. It's no different from the way people used to recognize him when he walked around.
Eventually, their path leads them to the Director's Office, and she lets him go inside first. Once he's in, he takes a long look around. He notes the touches that look like hallmarks of Jesse, from what he knows of her. Maybe that's just in his imagination, however. But he smiles at the plant, and inspects the pictures. The cover of the vinyl rings a bell and causes his smile to widen more.
The Oh Deer Diner logo causes mixed feelings for him. He's yet to actually be able to enjoy anything associated with the diner or with Deerfest, and while it might be silly, part of him still wants to experience it just once.
He glances to the side when he sees her position herself on the edge of the desk. How many times has he seen her sit like that? ]
Nice office. [ Part of him wonders if she's actually comfortable here, but as far as offices go, it's not that bad. ] So this is where you go when you're not dealing with crazy unexplained events.
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You're a parautalitarian, Alan. Most people will be glad you're under the wing of the Bureau. And, you probably know more than most anyways. Before we ... I mean, you knew what you did to write everything with Hartman. That means you'd know enough where I'd have to give you clearance.
[ She watches him move across the Office and smiles gently at every item he stops to look at. She's convinced that he knows her very well--better than anyone. Well, except maybe Polaris.
« Not that it's fair to compare to an alien resonance living inside me. Right? »
Polaris shifts as if she's amused. ]
Paperwork. It's not as glamorous as it sounds. [ Her pose is relaxed against her desk. She's no longer agitated, or afraid, or anxious. This is her and Polaris' space. They can keep the Entity at bay for now. The light seems to help. ] Or...moving around the Oldest House. Desk jobs aren't really my thing.
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What the hell does me being a parautilitarian mean, anyway? Of course I know what it means, logically, but- Maybe I can't be logical right now. But maybe it's better for everyone if I'm under their supervision, in case I start acting nutty. Insane. I know she doesn't want to do it, but then they could lock me up. Maybe being under their wing, as she puts it, is for the best.
He pulls himself back out of his thoughts again and looks back at her. He didn't fall asleep, nor did his thoughts cloud over as they used to do. He just needed a second to think. He hopes she can tell the difference. ]
Most people. Some people would be like the Koskelas and want to see me dead or locked up. Don't get me wrong, I want to contribute if I can. If I'm allowed to. But what I don't want is to be the reason people decide they won't work for the Bureau anymore, or that they don't trust you as Director. I don't want to cause you any more trouble than I already have.
[ In spite of the worries that are on his mind, Alan smiles at the thought of Jesse doing paperwork. It's not that difficult for him to imagine that she doesn't like it. He strikes her as more of an action kind of person and not the kind of person who wants to sit behind a desk handling reports. ]
Sounds like you need a secretary. Not that I'd be good at that either.
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She glances down at what he says. They're valid points. While she's sure that no one in the Bureau wants him dead? Locked up, studied, put under key... she could see it. Trench and Dylan have burned so many bridges. Ones that it would take more than just her example to show. That's another reason she doesn't want to lock him up. If more people can see parautalitarians can be of use and not just test subjects? Maybe they can see everything from a whole new light.
« Of course, not everyone is willing to change their ways. Even after the dire straits that Trench put the Buearu through. But... maybe if Alan can gain their trust it'd be enough for now. » ]
For now, no one can turn in their resignation. At least the ones here anyways. [ She tries to interject some humor into her voice. Hopefully, he understands she's taking what he says seriously. ] All we can do is try.
[ Her face scrunches at his suggestion. ] I don't really think I would like a secretary. Polaris can tell me if someone needs something. Besides, I can't imagine it'd be a glamorous job. Sitting and doing the paperwork while the boss flings stuff around with her mind.
[ She adjusts how she sits on the desk: leaning forward with her hands still resting on the top. While a lingering sense of exhaustion is there? Jesse is still relaxed. Maybe curious at what he'll want to do. Talking is fine. They've rarely had the chance just to talk. ]
So... what now?
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And really, at the end of the day, if he can do his part to help change how people see parautilitarians, then that's more important than most anything else, isn't it? People might not trust him right now, but maybe he can show them he's not the scary unknown variable they think he is. ]
Well, I don't mind trying. If I don't try, then I'll never get anywhere.
[ Somehow, even though there's resolve in Alan's words, he hasn't yet realized that the sentiments in what he's saying are what's gotten him this far. He had help along the way, of course, but the drive to keep going was always there with him. ]
Even if I was that secretary? [ He can't stop himself from grinning widely at her at the thought of it. He knows he'd be really bad at it, but he can't help but suggest it anyway.
At her question, he just silences for a few seconds so he can just stare at her, riveted as always. Something about her just draws her in and makes him want to never be apart from her again. ]
What now? Well... [ He hasn't forgotten where they are, or that they're still in some kind of danger here, but he can't pretend he doesn't want to just be with her without the kinds of threats they faced before tearing at them. ] We could just talk, or relax a little. [ His gaze travels around her office again. Maybe relaxation in her office would be hard. After all, it is an office. But he finds just being with her relaxing, so that's close enough. ]
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Alan, [ her tone is gentle and soft, ] you don't need to apologize anymore.
[ He's found his way home from the night. That, to her, is the most important thing. They can work out communication issues and move forward. Apologizing continuously for the way "Return" ended is pointless in her mind. Especially when she never blamed him for it. It was Scratch's sorry. Not his. They could only do so much.
Now, it's over. He's home.
As close as this place is to home anyways.
He's definitely not boring.
Jesse's gaze snap to Alan's when his tone lowers. She can feel that control she's tried to hold onto. Her back arcs into him and the breath she holds escapes. Her body molds against his as he continues their kiss and moving his fingers. ]
I love you too. [ The statement isn't so much whispered as it is said lowly against his lips, kissing him once more. Fingers thread into his hair and around his chest, somehow able to keep in mind he is injured.
They really should cover the stitches later.
At some point they move to the bed. Well, "bed." More like a mattress held up by a metal frame. Every area has a safe zone, but the Oldest House suddenly provided one conjoined to her office. There had been talk about converting offices to living spaces the longer they had been present in this dimension. There was no clear idea when they'd actually leave... and with how many survivors they kept finding? It might be the wisest idea.
Those are the musings that go through her mind as she lays beside him, red hair loose and wild. Her head rests on his good shoulder, arm draped over him, gaze wandering as she thinks over things. What she needs to tell him, how to adjust for things. A twin mattress isn't really going to work if he stays with her. Should he? She wants him to. Would the rest of the Buraeru react well to it? Most of them are already aware of some sort of relationship, and how she led him off would only confirm that in their minds. So, it may not matter...
Jesse sighs slightly and closes her eyes. She presses against him lightly--only to be closer to him. She's already decided that anything like this will only happen when he hints at it. There's a level of guilt she can't seem to let go. Maybe because she feels she pressed him into feeling worse about it all.
« I'm never going to be good at this. »
Her head tilts more into his shoulder.
« I missed him. » ]
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Maybe he'll always wrestle with the guilt and the regret and the need to apologize until he can't anymore. But even with that nagging guilt, his resolve to not be separated from her again is strong. Maybe it's even stronger than all those negative feelings.
All he wanted was to be home, and he fought and wrote and tried so hard to get there. He lets out an exhale of breath when she says those words against his lips and then kisses him again. He feels her fingers in her hair and at his chest, and he shivers involuntarily.
The freshly stitched wound chooses this moment to throb uncomfortably, and Alan's brows knit together as he tries to push away the discomfort. Nothing should ruin this moment, not even the injury that's barely healed. His mind briefly flashes back to a hook and a figure chasing him, and a thought occurs to him: how many times has that hook been used to kill? He was lucky and was saved, but- how many others weren't so fortunate?
But he won't be talking about that with Jesse, not if he can help it. The wound can twinge and sting and flare up, but he won't cause her to worry more than she already does.
Eventually, they move to the bed, a seemingly makeshift one, but Alan doesn't complain about it. He just wants to be with Jesse, to lie beside her and look her in the eyes and know that they're finally together. Finally home. She seems to be lost in thought, so he contents himself with slowly, carefully running his fingers through the red hair that he's come to love so much.
She's resting against his uninjured shoulder, and he was careful to position himself in such a way to avoid agitating his bad shoulder, but it seems that even though he's trying to lie as still as possible, some pain from the wound is still managing to assert itself.
Still, the pain means nothing when Jesse's next to him. He feels her press herself against him lightly, and he maneuvers his arm so that it's curled around her, pulling her in until their bodies are touching even more.
I just want to stay like this for a little while longer. ]
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She curls against him, arms moving to curl around his waist. Forehead neatly presses into the crook where neck and shoulder meet. A quiet fills the space where they normally talk as she simply enjoys having him hold her again. Tears press against her eyelids, but she refuses to let them out. She's cried enough around him.
Polaris tugs at her mind gently
« I know. He needs it looked at more and taken care of. I just... let me have this for a little while. Just being with Alan again. » ]
I wanted to give you the tour of the Oldest House when you finally got here. [ Her voice once again slips into those soft vulnerable tones he knows so well. ] Not that I can really do that now. I can show you what we have been able to take back from the Fog. Not right now.
Obviously.
[ She pauses. ] You probably have a lot of questions about everything... and I sort of... well, we can take care of them now.
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If she enjoys being held by him, he enjoys holding her. He enjoys feeling her arms curling around his waist, and the way her forehead presses into that space in between neck and shoulder. When the quiet settles over them both, Alan lets out an equally quiet sigh. How long has he dreamt of being able to be with Jesse like this? He's missed her too, and in those moments when he wasn't being plagued by darkness, he imagined himself holding her, kissing her face, touching her hair... it was a poor substitute for the real thing, but those imagined moments were all he had. They helped ease some of his loneliness even so, but it was always hard coming back to reality and facing the fact that he was still alone.
But now neither of them are alone. They're together, they have each other, and they can figure out this present problem together too. If she let those tears fall, he'd be quick to kiss her gently and carefully brush them away. She's cried too much and lived through too much pain and sadness; if there's anything he can do to shield her from being hurt again, that's what he intends to do. ]
I still want to see it, but like you said, that's a little difficult now. But when... when the time is right, I do want to see the parts of it that are here.
[ He falls silent for a moment to try and sort through his swirling thoughts and formulate them into questions that might fill in the gaps for him. ]
How long have you and the rest of the Bureau been here?
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The quiet sigh he gives makes her smirk. At least she picked the right path this time. ]
I'll show you what we've been able to take back. It's not much, just namely Central Executive. [ A hand raises to make a gesture that he can't see. ] Polaris and I have been focusing on that while what's here of my management team works on trying to note who is here and find ways to help people after they... come back.
[ She briefly glances up at him to try and gauge his reaction to that. ]
Time doesn't work here the way it does back home. More like how it does in the Dark Place. I think. It's hard to tell. It feels like it's been awhile now... like a few months? Maybe more.
How long was it for you in the Dark Place? I know it was about a year after for us... did you ever figure out how to tell time there?
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His arms instinctively curl around her more when she moves to curl further into him. ]
Maybe you could describe the rest of it to me, or at least describe what you can, and I'd probably be able to picture it. You know, vivid imagination and all. [ It's too much of an imagination at times, but it has its moments of usefulness. ]
After they come back? [ He figures she didn't emphasize that without reason, so he glances back at her with a questioning look. ] It's not just coming back, is it? It's something more.
[ And he figures it's a something more that he's not going to like. But that just seems to be the way his life goes, and there's nothing he can do about it. ]
I don't know, even now. An hour could feel like a day. A day could feel like a whole week. But those were just feelings, and I never really knew whether it was morning or evening. Still, it felt like years. Long years, and I missed you. I missed you a lot.
[ He leans in so that he can press a deep kiss to her cheek. ]
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—chapter two.
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[ Tim nods once more. Alan can relate, even if it's not the exact same thing. Which is exactly why he isn't pushing his stance. If this place can help him learn about Door? Fine by him. If not? Then, he'll have to find his way back to the Dark Place. Or home. Whichever happens first. ]
Dinner somewhere not in Bright Falls. Just to be sure. I'll remember it.
[ He falls silent when it comes to Jesse. He figures Alan will put it all together here in a few minutes. Jesse can project her guide from what he can tell, but, something tells him it's not just projecting.
He kneels down beside the generator and looks over Alan's shoulder at the situation. He starts pointing to places to repair parts that seem like they're disconnected. Then, the generator starts to rumble. He slides to the side, opening the panel, and finding wires. He tries to get them to spark. A jumpstart in theory--but it's the only theory he can really think of. He glances behind him at the Denny's with the flickering neon sign outside.
Definitely creepy. ]
Alan?
[ Tim looks up over the brim of his hat to see a young woman standing there. Long white hair, dyed purple ends, and definitely Gothic like attire. Her bangs hide a chunk of her face, but he can see the make up on her lips and her cheeks. The Sheriff glances at Alan.
The young woman crosses up to Alan and kneels down beside him. Her arm hangs limply at her side as if it's broken. Her gaze moves over him. ]
Wow. You're really back. They told me people could come back. Super. [ She looks over at Tim. ] You're new. I haven't seen you around. You look normal.
Thanks, I guess. Sherrif Tim Breaker. Well, former Sherrif, I've been missing awhile. Before this. [ Tim shrugs. ] Do you know what's going on?
Yeah, obviously. Get the generator up and running. It'll open the doors so we can get out. Trust me. There's doors. This isn't a real Denny's, parking lot, or place in Kansas. But it is real.
[ The mysterious girl begins to show them what do to, squatting down between them and quietly giving instructions. Occasionally she glances at Alan, almost like she's seen a ghost. In a way that's exciting though. ]
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Alan's mind is still churning with ideas concerning Jesse and her guide when he notes how Tim has kneeled down beside the generator. He might not know a lot about machinery like this, but he can guess that some of the disconnected parts need to be reconnected. Tim sets to work opening the panel and the wires contained inside. Alan's still somewhat at a loss for what to do when he registers another voice addressing him. ]
Huh? Yeah, I'm Al- [ The words die before Alan can finish them, as he takes in the young woman who's just joined them. She certainly cuts a striking figure, but that's not what's giving Alan pause.
Gray eyes take in the way her arm hangs limply at her side, and then... and then Alan's mind gives an uncomfortable lurch. He's not quite lost in his own head just yet, so he manages to reply with a voice that doesn't sound like it belongs to him. ]
...Back? Did I go somewhere?
[ Tim and the young woman exchange words while Alan proceeds to try and follow along while following the instructions to fix the generator.
He's not very focused on the task, as he keeps seeing strange images flashing in and out of his mind. He doesn't know that his face is paling slightly and a tremor is in his hands that wasn't there moments ago.
His fingers fumble with the wires as he sees a flash of a weapon (a hatchet? a throwing knife? some sort of weapon...) and another flash of something red.
What the hell?
Those images are replaced by another set of images: the silhouette of a girl hanging with a hook in her shoulder, and... he rescued her? Saved her? But then- He can't remember anything else after that.
With a monumental effort, Alan pulls himself out of his thoughts long enough to ask a question, hoping he's not interrupting Tim and the girl. His eyes meet hers during one of the times she glances at him. ]
Uh, sorry, what's your name?
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Dunno about "somewhere." Maybe you didn't leave? [ The young woman's voice sounds deadpan, but even Tim can detect the subtle emotion that trembles in it. ] Let's focus on getting this done. We can throw the reunion party later.
[ Tim glances between the two of them again. He notes the way Alan's hand trembles and how his face has paled. It's not quite the same, but Tim has seen him look wild and out of control. He's heard that confused and dazed tone before. ]
Sable. Kinda new here myself. [ She grins at Tim. ] I got the feeling Alan wasn't a veteran here.
[ The generator stutters and then the street light comes to life. Polaris shimmers brighter in the rays for a moment, almost as of she's content. Her resonance seems to increase now that more light is there.
A siren fills the air. ]
Go time, boys. Stay with me and DON'T fall behind. Don't run off and be a hero, okay? Good.
[ Sable stands and glances around for one moment. Then, she is darting off into what seems like the night. Tim helps Alan up, giving his arm a firm tap, then follows after the young woman. ]
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But... I just think I'm missing something. Did I forget again? Is this another loop? [ He abruptly slams one hand against his forehead as if trying to shake loose memories he's forgotten. All he gets for his trouble is a headache. ]
Never mind. We have to finish this. Yeah. [ There's a brief pause and Alan tries harder to pull himself back together. ] Sable. That- it sounds familiar, but I can't remember.
[ But Alan cuts himself off as he feels the generator shudder and sees the street light turn on. He feels a sense of relief, of safety, even though everything around them still screams danger.
But he doesn't have time to linger in his not-quite-stupor. Sable's giving directions before darting off, and Tim's tapping him on the arm as he helps him stand up again. He's able to pull himself together long enough to move with Tim as they follow Sable to... to wherever. ]
I think Jesse's guide liked it when the light came back on. Maybe she can do something to make the lights brighter.
[ Alan pauses for a moment although he doesn't stop moving. A lightbulb seems to be going off in his mind; perhaps he should have realized this before now, but he was just a little distracted. ]
Tim, if Jesse's guide is here... She wouldn't be here by herself, because the two of them go together. That has to mean that Jesse's here too somewhere.
[ God, I hope she's safe. She needs to be safe. If she wasn't safe, Polaris would be more upset, right?
Alan's expression is questioning but also worried, because he's getting the feeling that no one is really safe here. Wherever "here" is. ]
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[ He keeps a pace that makes sure Alan is beside him as they follow after Sable. ] You mentioned once that her guide amplified herself off light. Or, used it somehow. We talked about how there wasn't a lot of light for her to use in the Dark Place to do that. Still, she projected herself there to both of us. I'm guessing it's the same sort of thing here. It's not really that bright here either.
[ And, there's the realization. ]
Yeah, I had that thought too. Unless she can just project herself without Jesse's help. I mean, it's a theory, right? We got Jesse out of the Dark Place. Maybe she is back home where she should be.
[ The idea sounds like a long shot knowing their history.
The two eventually catch up to Sable, who is hunted at a large metal door. A hand is on the handle of a switch box beside it. Flashing red alarms light up one by one as unlocking mechanisms go off. She looks over her shoulder, and Tim can't help but do the same.
Nothing's behind them. ]
Guessing the others got out already. No one else is screaming. [ Sable kicks the door. ] Come on. Open up already!
[ One large blasting siren fills the air and the gate opens easily. Sable reaches back and snags Alan by the flannel shirt, dragging him along with her. The injured arm still hangs at her side. Tim is quick to follow, gun in hand, just in case. Not that he really knows what that just in case is.
Sable leads them forward, and suddenly, they are outside a large warehouse. One that should look familiar to Alan. The windows are boarded up and it looks like something right out of a zombie apocalypse movie. ]
Here we are. The Killers can't come here for whatever reason. I'm not high enough on the pay grade to know. [ She opens the door with her good arm and leads the men inside.
The warehouse is filled with crates, endless paper strung out everywhere, broken machinery. Signs of small camps can be seen as Sable continues to lead them through the maze and to another set of double doors. Then, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out an identification. One that's been decorated on the back by occult symbols and personal touches. She smirks at the raised eyebrows from Tim before opening the door by holding her identification up to it.
Inside is a hallway that leads straight to an office room with a large black pyrmaid in the center. Tim looks around, unsettled, because now even he can sense Polaris. Not that he knows it's Polaris. He can just pick up on something he feels he should know. Something that he instinctively knows is friendly. ]
And, just like that, welcome to the Fed Box. Nifty. [ Sable points down to the floor below with the people in uniform running across the room. Everyone seems to be on alert, but, Sable doesn't seem to really notice or mind. ] That guy at the table? Go talk to him and get your cool membership badge. I've got to go and get this fixed.
[ She tries to move her limp arm before smirking. Then, she turns and walks down the other pathway to another set of doors that have Rangers stationed outside them. Tim keeps an eye on her before turning back to Alan. ]
It's the Federal Bureau of Control. [ He nods to the seal on the ground. ] That's the seal that's all over the place in Bright Falls. Feds moved in shortly after you disappeared and set up camp. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised that they're here too.
[ What he doesn't mention is the fact he remembers Alan telling him that Jesse was in charge of these people. He's still holding out hope that maybe Jesse is safe back home. ]
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