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synthneon2024-01-10 07:34 pm
outlierdirector) wrote in synthneon2024-01-10 07:34 pm
Entry tags:
dead of night || ❝ i see what’s coming, it’s coming into light. ❞
Inside this room, you left your mark
I burn away the shadows, I strike a spark
no subject
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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Let me know if you have any questions later.
[ Jesse Faden doesn't register the doors to the Board Room have been opened. Her green eyes are laser focused on the papers in front of her. Even as Polaris tugs at her to get her attention? She doesn't change her focus.
Something has to be in the records about this place. Well, the records they managed to have with them when Central Executive and attached hallways got sucked into this threshold. She just hasn't found it yet. They've been here for some time now. Has the Bureau never encountered this threshold before? It's so similar to the Dark Place.
Not that Jesse really likes to think of the Dark Place.
Letting Alan Wake go had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. She was convinced he brought her into the story to save him--to bring him home to their reality. It wasn't until the very end she realized that could never be the intention of the story. What Alan had never intended. She was there to save him in a more metaphoric sense. Save Alan Wake as who he was, not where he was. He had to be pulled out from the waters of the Dark Place if he was ever going to escape.
Realizing and accepting it had broken her heart. Not to the point where she doesn't love Alan. She still does--deeply, even--but all she can see is her role in the stories he wrote is over. There's nothing else he would need her to do. He stopped Scratch and the Dark Presence. According to Saga Anderson and Alex Casey's interviews? A bullet of light pushed the possession out of Alan. He was saved from it, Scratch, the loops, the spiral. Logan was safe. Everyone had their good ending.
Except for her.
She buried the feelings deep inside the moment he drove off in the FBI's rented car. She is the Director. She can't be compromised. Even if Sevastopol and Estevez knew what it did to her. She has to lead the Bureau forward. This situation is no different. She doesn't have the time or luxury to be compromised or remembering how lonely that Christmas after the 82nd Deerfest was.
Jesse lowers and shakes her head.
« Why do I always think him at times like this? »
Polaris nudges Alan once more.
｟ Alan. ｠ ]
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But for now, he just nods at Arish and makes a note to come back to talk with him more later. Strangely enough, it's company that Alan wants most. Company, friendship, talking about anything but the horror they're in: the horror that seems to follow him, mostly because he writes about it. Maybe this really is his fault.
It's obvious to Alan that Jesse has no idea she has company in the room with her, no idea that he's standing there trying to work up the nerve to just talk to her. On some level, maybe it's just the outcome of everything he's done. Maybe Jesse will just shut him out instead of letting him back in. What has she gained from knowing him? Alan's not sure he's really given her anything positive, only negatives.
Maybe that's just what I do. I make people miserable. No, I can't think like that. It's not true, is it? If I keep thinking like this, I'll talk myself out of it and I'll never be able to approach her. Screw it, I have to talk to her. I want to talk to her. Even if all she does is tell me to leave her alone, I have to try.
Truthfully, all he expects from her is rejection. It's only fair, given how he jerked her around, made her think she could save him, and in the end, left her behind. Why would she willingly let him back in after everything he's done? No, he expects that she won't let him back in. His chance with her is over. At least, he's afraid it is. He's certain her walls are back up, and this time, they'll never come down again, not for him. He'll never see the girl from Ordinary again. If he gets to stay in her life at all, it'll only be with the Director, not Jesse.
But he'll never know the truth of it either way if he stays standing here in this door frame. The nudge comes again, as does the voice, and Alan swallows his fears, squares his shoulders, and steps up to the table, feeling in a way that he's stepping back through a threshold, heading once again into an unknown situation. ]
... Jesse?
[ He braces himself for what he's certain is going to be waves of anger, and an order to get out. To leave her alone. Again, like he did before. ]
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Part of her can't see any other path than the fact that if he ever does write his way home? He'd want nothing to do with her. She played her role, her purpose in the story, and he'd need nothing else from her. Saga had mentioned him saying something about being a "master of many worlds" now.
Whatever that means.
... Jesse?
Everything in her freezes.
« No. No. It can't be Alan. He wouldn't be HERE. If he could go wherever he wanted in any story he wrote... why would he come here? He couldn't get himself stuck here just because of me. He wouldn't get himself stuck here just because of me. Us. »
Jesse slowly raises her gaze, bright green eyes moving to where she heard his voice. The voice that belongs to her Writer trapped in the dark. He can't be here. She's probably just imagining it because she misses him, and this situation is such shit. Just like sometimes she thinks she hears Dylan over the Hotline. It has to be something similar to that. He couldn't be here.
Except, there he is, standing in that brown suit she thought never fit him.
No anger comes. No rejection, no lashing out. Just, staring at the Writer.
Anyone else would probably think she's had no reaction at all. Alan should know better--if he remembers anything about her. The way her lips part slightly. How her eyes widen by a fraction. Shoulders sag as if the weight of something monumental has pulled down the mantle of the Director. Her lower lip trembles slightly and her fingers curl into the desk underneath her.
« It can't be Alan. It can't. Why.... why would he... he wouldn't just to be trapped somewhere else. He couldn't have known we were here. That I was here.
Could he? »
She feels as if she's standing back at Cauldron Lake's campgrounds. Just expecting him to turn around and leave her behind.
Again. ]
... Alan?
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It feels different now, and not just because they're in a different place. Scratch is gone. The darkness that he's so well acquainted with is gone. There's a different kind of darkness, but it's not the Dark Presence. He's awake, somehow. He's not washing out. He's terrified still, because everything about this place is terrifying, but at the same time, it doesn't seem to matter.
Jesse's here.
He watches her closely, noting every move, noting how she slowly lifts her gaze, green eyes moving in search of his voice. He's already memorized how she moves, but that doesn't stop him from watching her anyway. He doesn't see anger or rejection or hear yelling or cursing. No, he just sees Jesse staring at him, but not staring blankly. He sees those small movements she does, movements so small that they're easily missed. But Alan doesn't miss them. He could never miss them. How many times has he seen her eyes widen in exactly that way? He wouldn't say he has her movements perfectly memorized, but he has committed quite a few of them to memory.
Well, to memory that was always in danger of being washed away. But now, he remembers. He remembers in full.
His gaze travels to her hands, noting the way her fingers curl into the desk. He's seen that before too. She's not angry. She's surprised. Maybe shocked. But maybe when the shock wears off, the anger comes out. It's deserved.
His gray eyes lock onto her green ones as they've done so many times before. If not for the table in the way, he would lean in and press his forehead against hers in the movement that's theirs.
But the table still is between them, and he's still fearing her rejection. But he takes another step forward, stopping once it's completed. He won't get too close unless she welcomes him in, either with words, a look, or a gesture. ]
It's me. Is- Is it really you?
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Afraid she'll touch him and he'll disappear. That her loneliness and stress of this place has finally made her crazy and she's seeing what she wants.
« It's him. It can't be... but it is. H-how? Did he see something in the Dark Place? Is he really here, or just projected out into a story from that room he's in? Why would he come here? »
As if to answer his question, Polaris shimmers around Jesse. It's not that she doesn't want to answer him. Everything has been locked up so much that it might all come out at once if she let's her guard down. She wants to believe he's really in the same room with her.
« Will I have to let him go again?
No. I don't want to live thar again. Ever again.
Isn't enough that Dylan never woke up and he's missing now? Do I have to lose Alan again too? »
Polaris once more brushes against the Writer's mind. She knows her human host desires to be close to the Champion of Light, but can't bring herself to say it. A nudge could help. The reinforcement of the idea to step up to her and pull her into his arms. Polaris has no sense of the human emotions or understanding of them. The host wants it, and the Champion of Light will help build the resonance in thus dimension. ]
I...
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But she's here. She's alive, and he's alive and himself, and suddenly he feels a strong resolve to protect her as much as he can. He'd take the hook again, as many times as needed, if it meant she didn't have to go through that hell. God, I hope she hasn't gone through that.
He snaps to attention again the second he sees Polaris's shimmer. He knew it was Polaris, because he knew that resonance, but seeing it around Jesse is all the confirmation he needs. It's obvious to him that Jesse's thinking; he figures she's trying to make sense of this, trying to process his appearance here. He can relate; he's trying to process her own presence here.
But the best way to do that seems to be in line with Polaris's ideas, in a manner of speaking. When he feels her brush against his mind, he stops hesitating. The table is in the way, and it's large enough that he wouldn't be able to reach over it. So he steps around it, moving until he's next to her. He doesn't pull her into his arms just yet, choosing instead to place one hand over her right hand, hoping that confirms for her that he's real. He's here.
If he knows her as well as he believes he does, she needs the reassurance and the confirmation. ]
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She doesn't move as he comes to stand beside her. A familiar tingle runs up her arm as he places his hand over hers. There's always something about touching Jim. Either her own physical reaction of being happy for the contact, or Polaris resonating with the Champion of Light. Both seem to happen in an instant and Jesse knows she can't deny what's really in front of her.
Alan Wake.
Her mouth moves to speak, but nothing comes out. Instead she stands up straight and looks up at him evenly. Hee bright green eyes haven't changed in the year and some since she's seen him, but, he seems different. He's awake. Alert. Fully there. No shadows or darkness lingering in the back of his eyes.
« Saga did it. She really did it. What I couldn't do even with you and all my crazy powers. She saved him--or helped him save himself. »
Knowing that causes her heart to beat painfully. She tried so hard and so long to save him. In the end, she's not sure she ever really did help like he said she did. All she sees is a role fulfilled in a story Scratch wrote that Alan editted. A role she apparently misunderstood from the very beginning. Over the last year she's come to terms with it, but that hasn't stopped the heartbreak.
« If anything it made it worse. I couldn't save him. I couldn't bring him home... and now here he is. In this fucked up Fog. Why? Did I bring him here by accident? Just like how all the adults disappeared back home after my wish? I don't... I don't understand. »
Jesse looks down again for a moment before looking back up at him. Her other hand raises, hesitating slightly before she touched his cheek. Tips of her fingers brush against the small scar underneath his eye. Everything seems to be exactly the same as she last saw him--minus the brown suit she really feels doesn't fit him. ]
Alan? Why... how... [ « I don't understand. Do I need to understand? Yes, becasue the Director needs answers. Does he even know how he got here? It can't be another one of his stories. There's no manuscript pages anywhere. » ] when did you...?
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His fingers curl slightly against her hand, as he really wants to do more than just touch her hand. He wants to pull her in for a hug and not let go for a long time. It seems to him that they've come a long way from that very first loop. She lets him touch her now without looking visibly uncomfortable. Maybe she welcomes his touch now. It would seem odd if she didn't, given how much they touched her at various points in their time together. The thought makes him smile in spite of himself.
He knows that their parting wasn't what either of them wanted; he didn't want to go back to the Dark Place, leaving her behind, and he feared her seeing that as the final rejection. The nail in the coffin of their relationship: a relationship that had blossomed even in the loops, but deserved a chance to grow in a world not so filled with horrors. Their reality might still have its share of horror, but it's nothing like the horrors contained in the Dark Place.
No, what Alan wants most is to have a normal life with Jesse, as normal a life as the two of them can have. Maybe it won't be very normal at all, what with her being the Director and him having learned how to survive other realities. He called it mastering them, but maybe that was more for dramatic effect. He still has a long way to go in learning exactly what that means for him and for his relationship with Jesse and people in general.
He stills when he sees her gaze traveling over him. There's no anger there, or rejection, just a look of exxamining him. Taking him in. He figures she'll notice what's different about him, after so long of seeing him wash out and be lost in the darkness brought on by the Dark Presence.
And if he knew what she was thinking, he would say without hesitation that he wouldn't be here without her help. Without the help he got from any of them. She and Saga both contributed, as did everyone he encountered in the loops. Some contributed more, others less, but he considers Jesse's contribution just as great, if not greater, than anyone's. She fought for him, believed he would come home even when he didn't, and she even thanked him for what he did.
No, it's clear to him that he would never have gotten this far without her and Polaris. But now he just owes her an apology for the heartbreak he inflicted on her repeatedly: in the loops, with that last goodbye as he drove away from her. With all the times that he was an asshole even when she told him to shut the hell up and stop being one. He needs to fix what he broke and make it up to her by any means necessary.
He freezes in place when he sees her hand raise. Maybe part of him expects a slap as return for being such an asshole. Instead, her hand just touches his cheek, fingers brushing the scar under his eye. Maybe this is her trying to assure herself that it's him, that he's real and hasn't changed. Even the suit that still feels uncomfortable to him even now hasn't changed. He doesn't pull away because he never would, but this feels like an important moment for her. For both of them. ]
Honestly, I don't know why or how. I was in the Writer's Room as always, writing again, because I was trying to get home. [ Trying to get home to her. ] I didn't notice the fog creeping in. Next thing I knew, there was a forest and a path and- Well. I was here.
[ And ended up on a hook. But he's not talking about that. ]
How did you get here?
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Then, it strikes her how much she has missed being near him. The hand under his curls as she tries to reign that feeling in. She leans forward to him--just enough to be in his space--and never breaks eye contact. Questioning in a look if it's really him, or just another projection into a story.
If so? Then she'll be angry.
A particular look flashes across her eyes at the admission of how he was still writing to escape. Pain, worry, upset. Always writing--will he ever be able to write to enjoy himself again? Is he still writing in the room? Is he writing this conversation? ]
Are you still there? Or are you here? With... us. [ She means to say with her, but can't bring herself to say it yet.
« Tell me you're really here. I can't believe it until you say you're really here. » ]
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When she leans forward, so does he. They're closer together now, foreheads almost touching but not quite. He purposefully left a little distance between them. He'll get rid of that distance soon, but not yet.
That look in her eyes hasn't escaped him. He knows what it means. He knows what most of her looks mean. ]
I'm not still there. I don't know how. It was like a path opened, I followed it, and it led me here. That room should be empty now. [ There should be nothing for the owl to look at. No one to follow around the room. Maybe the owl's gone back to just being an owl. ]
I'm here, Jesse. I'm really here. [ And only then does he move the rest of the way to rest his forehead against hers. ]
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Jesse's thoughts are interrupted the moment he touches his forehead to hers. Her whole attention laser focuses onto what he's said. Her heart stops. She inhales sharply. Alan is truly with her in the room. Just as she had been in the Dark Place. Memories are hazy, but she knows she was there in that room once. When and what loop, she's not sure, but she knows it as much as she does what happened in Ordinary was real.
Her lower lip trembles and her eyebrows knit together. A part of her can't let go of the image of him driving off to jump back into the Dark Place. He is here now, in front of her, presumably free of the nightmare he was stuck in for thirteen years.
« One step closer to coming home. »
Jesse has never been one to let her fears or worries trap her for long.
She presses her forehead back to his. Her hand turns under his to press her palm to his. Fingers slide between his effortlessly. Finally, she closes her eyes and leans against him. Taking that chance that he may disappear or may not. She won't know until she tests it. ]
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She's leaning against him, and with his other arm, he slides it around her, wanting to pull her closer. It just so happens to be the same side that was pierced by the hook, so he can't move his arm very far without jarring the injury, but he can move it enough that he can wrap it around her and hold her close.
This time, he won't have to let her go. This time, he won't let her go and leave her behind as he walks back into a nightmare. They're in a nightmare now, but at least they're together. At least this time, he can do his best to not let her out of his sight. This time, he's staying with her. He won't be disappearing, not again. ]
I found you. I finally found you. [ He barely whispers those words as he continues holding her, voice low but just loud enough for her to hear it. Somehow, just the fact that he can hold her and feel her is all the proof he needs. ]
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His arm is around her waist. Then, he's speaking in barely hushed tones, and her heart stops again. He's finally found her. Part of her wants to say that she's been there waiting. Well, in the Oldest House. Not this weird fog dimension. She wouldn't want him to come into another nightmare, yet here they are.
She shifts in his hold and presses against him further. She opens her mouth to respond, but Polaris tugs at her mind. Green eyes leave his to look at his shoulder. Her head tilts ever so slightly before raising her other hand to his shoulder. Her fingers gingerly touch thr fabric to find it wet.
Her eyes widen and dart back up to him. ] You're injured. You got hurt on the way here, didn't you? In the woods?
[ Jesse isn't quite the Director in this moment. She's a more a worried partner. She presses her forehead to his to insist on the matter before tugging the hand she holds. She only steps away to guide him with her, but never letting go of his hand. ]
I know you have questions, Alan. I'll answer them once you're looked at. But you have to have that looked at. Depending on what--who--hit you...
[ Her hand squeezes his tightly as she leads him out of the Board Room and up a small flight of stairs. It gives her time to put all her thoughts in order. She owes him answers, a real conversation, not just staring at him with her emotions running haywire. That's not the sort of reunion either of them deserve.
She turns down a hallway and opens a door. The entire look of the room changes. It's purely medical, almost as if they've stepped into a hospital. Just not entirely. Jesse pushes past another door and a FBC agent raises his head. She waves down his formalities and gestures to Alan's shoulder. The agent--rather doctor--introduces himself and gestures for Alan to take a seat in one of the additional rooms. Once he has, the doctor instructs him to take off the shirt and jacket to look at the injury. Jesse leans against the wall, shifting slightly, but staying near just so Alan knows she hasn't left him with some mad scientist.
« Emily would have a field day with all this. I miss my Head of Research. »
The doctor gently removes the emergency pack that Ripley placed and looks at the wound. Jesse knows what it is without being told.
A hook.
« He really knows how to make an entrance doesn't he? »
The doctor goes about numbing the area, explaining to Alan what he will be doing and needs. Jesse tries to give a reassuring smile. The stitches go well, and what they have numbs Alan well, but he will certainly feel it once it wears off. The doctor notes he'll bring by pain medicine in a bit and quietly exits the room.
Jesse waits a few moments before pushing herself off from the wall. She walks over to Alan and kneels down in front of him. There is a feeling of deja vu, but why, she's not sure. The memories of that first loop were taken away by numerous drafts... minus how Scratch killed her. Sometimes, those memories come back in the dead of night.
Her hands raise to gently take his into hers. She looks up at him, head tilted slight. The better lighting shows how bright red her hair is, how her green eyes light up between the room and Polaris. Her fingers curl around his. ]
So. You followed a path in the forest... and ran into someone that brought you here. You missed the part about the hook.
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When she moves more into his hold, he just stops, wanting to do nothing else but hold her and take in this moment that both of them have been waiting for. Nothing else seems to matter, not talking, not taking action, just stopping there and holding each other. But even as he does, the ache in his shoulder seems to grow as if the emergency pack Ripley put on the wound is no longer doing its job. That's only confirmed when Jesse carefully touches the spot and feels blood. He hadn't even realized it was still bleeding, or maybe it just started bleeding while he was talking to her.
His gaze shifts down and he shakes his head slowly. ] No, I'm- I mean, yes, I am, but it's fine. Ripley took care of it. [ Except if it's bleeding again, then that's not a good sign, but he doesn't want her to worry about it. No, it doesn't really make sense in Alan's mind, so maybe he's lost more blood than he realizes, but he still doesn't want a fuss made. The injury will heal eventually, but he wants to put off getting it looked at.
He's never been a fan of examinations, associating them with being poked by needles. And right now, considering the very large poke he got from the hook, he doesn't want to be poked by anything or anyone, doctor or not. ]
Jesse, it's fine, I'll be fine. [ He tries to protest, but she's pressing his forehead against his and then tugging at his hand, trying to guide him away.
No, I- I don't-
His thoughts suddenly turn panicked and he feels a cold sweat breaking out over his shoulders. Maybe shock is actually setting in, making stringing a complete sentence together difficult.
He doesn't have time to argue further, as they're already out of the room and going up a flight of stairs. Eventually, they reach a hallway and a door, and another room that seems like it's shifted into place. Alan goes through the motions of following the doctor's directions, wincing as he removes his jacket and shirt, the buttons giving him a hard time, but he manages it after awhile.
With the pack removed, the pain seems to swarm back in all at once, and Alan feels uncomfortably hot and cold at the same time. Maybe ignoring the wound and hoping it would heal on its own wasn't the smartest choice after all. He doesn't protest about the stitches, but once the doctor begins putting them in, Alan tenses, hands clenching against the discomfort, even with the area numbed.
But it's over soon enough, and the doctor departs for the time being, leaving Alan and Jesse alone. His gaze immediately shifts to hers, his eyes locking onto hers as he takes a few shaky breaths. He doesn't want to be dramatic about it, but the wound itself hurts more than he wants to admit. He'll shake it off, of course, because it's not even that serious. And the last thing he wants is to make a scene about something that's not a big deal.
His hands immediately press against hers when she takes them in her hands. Oh, he's missed her touches, how she holds his hands. He's missed her, being with her, knowing she's with him. He's missed her green eyes and fire red hair. He's missed everything about her. ]
Yeah... that's about how it happened. And- well, I didn't want to tell you about the hook because I knew you'd start to worry. [ If he wasn't holding her hands and if his shoulder didn't hurt like hell, he'd move a hand to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. He knows by now that she'll worry about him anyway, whether or not he tells her about things like disturbingly sharp hooks. ]
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She shouted enough in the Bright Falls AWE observation room when no one was looking or listening anyways.
Polaris' gentle resonance rolls from her hands and over Alan. Not that Jesse could stop it. She generates the resonance and it fills every aspect of this place. As it should, it's bits and pieces of the Oldest House. Control Points are washed inside and out with the resonance. He can't go anywhere here without feeling her to some degree. The Fog or Entity could invaded and it would certainly be a battle.
Just one on Polaris' home turf.
A smile tugs at the corner of her lips at his statement. ] Hooks aren't something to walk off if you survive a trail, Alan. They can't heal it in the thick of survival. Depending on who or what was hunting you... sometimes it's not just a hook.
[ Her head tilts slightly. She slowly pulls herself closer to be in his space entirely, never letting go of his hands. ] We're in another dimension. Obviously. One it looks like the Buearu hasn't encountered before. Where you are right now? It's the Oldest House--HQ. Parts of it, anyways.
[ « It's not exactly how I had hoped to show him the House. » ]
The Oldest House is basically a threshold within itself. Sort of like Cauldron Lake. It opens up and changes how it is, but the Control Points anchor a shape and size to it. That's why you'll see them everywhere. [ « And why he'll feel YOU everywhere he goes here. » ] It's... only parts of the Oldest House from what I can tell. Namely the Executive area. Except the Medical Wing, that usually is a whole different area...
Open thresholds happen all the time in the Oldest House. One opened up, and we sent rangers in like normal. Except it wasn't just a normal threshold. It was this... Fog. It rolled through the entire Oldest House. All of us were separated, and eventually, found one another. We found this warehouse that connects to the House. Or, is the House. It can change its appearance on the outside... and be unnoticed if it needs to.
So, we're still assessing how much of the House and the Bureau has been taken over. We've made some progress, but when any of us disappear for a time into what the other survivors we found call "trails"? It's a bit harder. [ Jesse frowns. ] There's another entity out there. And this what they just call it, "The Entity." It feeds off everything in this threshold. It'll put us in these insane trails up against something or someone trying to kill us all and sacrifice us to this "Entity".... then, we wake back up in random places. The Buearu has made systems to get people back here and in regular check ins. Just so we know what's going on. Or, try our hardest.
[ She glances down, then back up at him. A golden pyramid pin is in her messy bun, holding it all together. ] And now it's pulled you in here too. You, not a projection of you.
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Maybe the positves here are far outweighed by the negatives, but as silly as it might be, Alan's choosing to focus more on the good things than the bad. For one, Jesse and Polaris are here. For another, he's awake for the first time in years. They might be in trouble here, but all Alan can think of is how he can be himself now and not a threat to others... not someone to be afraid of or someone to be looked at with a distrusting eye.
Now, he just wants to help. But more than that, he just wants to be with Jesse, in whatevr way that looks like around here. ]
Well, I guess that means you're going to have to show me the ropes, because I don't know what more a hook can be besides just a hook. [ He shrugs and then winces again because he forgot that moving his shoulder kind of hurts. ] I'm getting the feeling that there's a lot I still need to learn, and something tells me there's not a lot of time to learn it.
Another dimension. Of course. [ He assumed as much already, but it seems like just another day in the life for him that he'd try to get out of one dimension only to land in another. And then he just looks at her in confusion. ]
So... so you're saying it brought your headquarters here. It connected to it, took it over, and- [ He shakes his head. He understands things a lot better now, but this is something he's having a hard time wrapping his head around. ] I thought I understood how you did it when you made a connection between your apartment to the Dark Place, but- I don't understand this. But even if I don't understand much of anything, I can learn as I go, so... what can I do to help?
[ He's here now, and he's determined to do his part, whatever that ends up being. ]
And not to be cocky, but this Entity has to have a weak spot that we just have to find. There has to be something we can to do get you all out of here.
[ He thought he saw a flash of gold when he first approached her, but he gets enough of a glimpse of it now to see that it's holding her hair in place. A stray thought enters his mind and for a second, he considers removing it and letting her hair fall out of the bun so he can better touch it. But he decides that can wait for a moment. ]
Yeah. It got me, but at least we're here together, right?
[ And this time, I'm not leaving her. This time, it's my turn to protect her. Maybe even save her. Somehow. I'm still figuring that out. ]
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Her fingers curl around his wrists. ]
There's... a lot. It may take a while. [ Still, she squeezes his hands. ] Not including knowing your way around the Oldest House. Well, what's here of it anyways.
[ A nod. Another dimension. There is no getting away from it when it comes to her. It's her job. Exploring and seeing these dimensions to keep them out of their reality as much as possible? That's what the Bureau does. She'll always be weird and have the weird around her. Hopefully, that won't deter him in the future from her. ]
I think the apartment only connected to the Dark Place because it connected to you, Alan. Thresholds to other dimensions open up all the time in the Oldest House. They're... connected, in a way. What causes an AWE is when those dimensions meet ours in something... really, really bad. Like Ordinary or Bright Falls. [ Jesse tilts her head slightly. ] What must of us are trying to do right now is survive and gather resources to help each other keep surviving. Researchers that came with us here are trying to pull notes and information together about the Fog and the Entity... but it's slow.
[ Her eyes seem to brighten at his last statement. They're there, together. Somewhere they can fight on equal footing. Not one of his stories, or Scratch, or something else. Her hold on his hands tightens a fraction. She really can't express how much it means to her. ]
Yeah. Together.
[ Then, her gaze softens and her eyes drop. ]
Dylan's missing.
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Well, hopefully we have awhile. [ His lips turn up into a smile that's the one he reserves solely for her. It reaches his eyes and makes wrinkles form at the corners, but it's unmistakably happy. ] I'd like to get acquainted with the Oldest House, if it lets me.
[ He's already begun thinking of the Oldest House as something sentient, based on the wording Jesse's used, so in his mind, it's not that hard to think that it might not necessarily like it if he pokes around. But maybe knowing Polaris and Jesse will help. Maybe. ]
I wonder if that connection to your apartment still exists. I hope it does. [ Because if he just gets sent back to the Writer's Room, he'll still want to use it to pay her visits from time to time. ] As for trying to survive and gather resources, well, I think I can definitely help with that. [ He's gotten a little resourceful himself over the years in the Dark Place. ] I already met Arish. He seems like a good guy.
[ His smile widens a fraction, and then it fades again when she mentions her brother. He instinctively squeezes her hands in return. ]
What do you mean, he's missing?
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A small shrug. ] Well, it didn't blow you up the moment you stepped in. It must not mind you too much. [ She pauses to let him react before smirking. ] It doesn't appreciate any newer technology inside it. We think it has something to do with cellphones and the modern era not being in the human subconsciousness long enough or... something. It's not really my area.
[ Jesse leans a little closer to him. ] I hope it doesn't, because you'll be coming home with the rest of us this time. One doorway into another, right? You won't need a key to visit me in dreams. You'll have a real key. I mean, you'll have moved in with me. You're going to need a key. [ She smiles. ] Arish is one of my management team members. It's not surprising you met him already.
[ She sighs as her gaze stays downwards. ] We had him set up in a containment cell here in Executive... monitoring him while he was in coma. That whole room hasn't shown up yet. So, he's missing.
Again.
[ « I should of lined it with black rock... done something. Something more. Now, we need to find him again. » ]
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[ He just smiles at her again, but this time, it doesn't quite reach his eyes. There's a part of him that still feels as though he can't tell whether or not he'll make it home. There's too many variables and too many unknowns, and he just can't shake the feeling that it's not going to be that easy. ]
Yeah. One doorway into another. I'd like to move in with you. I'd like to be there when you get home from work. [ I'd like to have a life with her.
His expression sobers more as what she's saying about Dylan sinks in. ]
He can't just be gone. You'll find him again, I'm sure you will. [ And then his expression shifts again to one of thoughtfulness. ] Maybe there's a way to find him.
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