[ He shifts a fraction more, reacting to her hold: not pulling away, not showing any signs of discomfort. Instead, he just wants more. He wants to hold her and be held, taking turns caring for her and being cared for. Hasn't that been the way their relationship has been? Except he knows that the scales are tipped unevenly. She's done more to care for him than he's ever done for her. What exactly has he done to care for her?
His brow furrows in thought. He put them back in the story, he remembers that much. But what else? What else even comes close to count as caring for her?
Maybe he'll never see himself the way he used to. Maybe it makes sense, because that younger man who thought he could fix the story and right everything that had gone wrong has been gone for a long time. The man who's here now is older now, and more tired, and so very uncertain of where he fits into this world. Maybe that's the point: maybe he doesn't have a specific place anymore. He's just one of many faceless people trying to get through the day to day.
That thought that he thinks he's had before occurs to him again: the world moved on without Alan Wake. He's not exactly a household name, not that he wants to be that now. Oh, a small number of people might like his books and the movies made from them, but that's about it. And that's how it should be.
He shifts until he's on his back, but he reaches for Jesse's hand, the closest one to him, and he begins to rub small circles against her palm and the back of her hand. ]
Bright Falls. Yeah. [ A ghost of a smile turns his lips upwards in response to her light poke. His eyes don't drift, exactly, but he looks like he's trying to recall an elusive memory. ] It was Deerfest, wasn't it? I haven't thought about Deerfest in a long time. [ That insane version of Deerfest doesn't count. I barely remember that, but I know it doesn't count. ]
But... [ That furrow in his brow deepens. He feels the strands of a thought in the back of his mind and he tries to grab at them. He's lost so many of his memories and sometimes remnants come back to the surface. Those, he desperately tries to grab at and hold onto. ]
That... that wasn't the first time we met. Talked. Was it?
[ He rubs bigger circles against her hand as he ponders her question. ] Where did you want to go? You don't have to stop by the Bureau?
no subject
His brow furrows in thought. He put them back in the story, he remembers that much. But what else? What else even comes close to count as caring for her?
Maybe he'll never see himself the way he used to. Maybe it makes sense, because that younger man who thought he could fix the story and right everything that had gone wrong has been gone for a long time. The man who's here now is older now, and more tired, and so very uncertain of where he fits into this world. Maybe that's the point: maybe he doesn't have a specific place anymore. He's just one of many faceless people trying to get through the day to day.
That thought that he thinks he's had before occurs to him again: the world moved on without Alan Wake. He's not exactly a household name, not that he wants to be that now. Oh, a small number of people might like his books and the movies made from them, but that's about it. And that's how it should be.
He shifts until he's on his back, but he reaches for Jesse's hand, the closest one to him, and he begins to rub small circles against her palm and the back of her hand. ]
Bright Falls. Yeah. [ A ghost of a smile turns his lips upwards in response to her light poke. His eyes don't drift, exactly, but he looks like he's trying to recall an elusive memory. ] It was Deerfest, wasn't it? I haven't thought about Deerfest in a long time. [ That insane version of Deerfest doesn't count. I barely remember that, but I know it doesn't count. ]
But... [ That furrow in his brow deepens. He feels the strands of a thought in the back of his mind and he tries to grab at them. He's lost so many of his memories and sometimes remnants come back to the surface. Those, he desperately tries to grab at and hold onto. ]
That... that wasn't the first time we met. Talked. Was it?
[ He rubs bigger circles against her hand as he ponders her question. ] Where did you want to go? You don't have to stop by the Bureau?