Does that outweigh all the trouble that I caused? All the people who got caught up in this mess because of me...
[ Included in the things he sees in his dreams (nightmares?) when he manages to fall asleep for a little while are the people who were hurt or killed throughout the various loops that happened in his efforts to fix the story. He sees their faces, and although he doesn't know all of their names, each one feels like something he's responsible for. ]
I don't think I've done very many good things at all.
[ Jesse might think she isn't very good at comforting him, but Alan thinks otherwise. Even though Jesse's more the type of person to go in punching and hitting, when they're together, she's calm. Reassuring. She's everything he needs.
He continues touching her hair, lightly twining the strands beneath his fingers, pausing only when her eyes slide open just a fraction. He sees her smile and the sparkle in her eyes, and it makes him smile softly in return.
He can see that she loves him; he's never doubted it. The only thing he doubts is his ability to be what and who she needs.
She shifts, and he feels the movement next to him, but his gaze is drawn to her eyes as they shift to look at him. There's something mesmerizing about her eyes; something that just draws him in, and he doesn't resist the pull. Her forehead lightly touches against his as her eyes slide shut, and after a minute or two, his follow suit.
It takes time for him to really drift off into something like a light doze. He might even manage to reach a state of somewhat deeper sleep, but it's always short-lived. Some hours pass, and Alan's features have relaxed slightly as sleep has momentarily pulled him down. Having Jesse nearby helps relax him, but his senses still remain somewhat on alert.
Outside the apartment, a storm is brewing, and the wind is blowing and rain is falling. There's a crack in the sky and a flash of lightning, and another one follows soon after. The LED lights that Jesse left on but dimmed flicker once, and then again, and then they abruptly go out.
Alan shifts on the bed, a frown creasing his forehead and turning his mouth down. Something is setting off warning bells in his mind, and he shifts first to one side and then another, ending back where he started: facing Jesse. There's another thunderclap and Alan's eyes slowly slit open.
He's greeted by a darkened room. It's not pitch black, but his mind plays tricks on him: tricks he was hoping he was past, but very clearly is not. Shapes of things that he knows and would recognize in daylight morph into other things in the darkness, and he feels his breath catch in his throat.
The silhouette of a typewriter flashes before his eyes. There's a door with a spiral on it. There's someone in the room with him; he can hear the low but constant breathing. There's footsteps on the floor, and they're coming closer to him. He spots movement and the flash of something metal moving through the air. A click sounds; the clicking of a gun being readied to fire?
Alan tenses on the bed, one hand instinctively reaching out for Jesse, to try and find her hand to hold it. He fears what he might find, which is nothing: only empty air where Jesse's hand should be. Where Jesse should be. What if she never was there at all? What if none of this was ever real?
She's asleep, if she's actually there, and he doesn't want to disturb her rest, but he can't help but quietly say her name in a tone that's mostly a whisper. ]
no subject
[ Included in the things he sees in his dreams (nightmares?) when he manages to fall asleep for a little while are the people who were hurt or killed throughout the various loops that happened in his efforts to fix the story. He sees their faces, and although he doesn't know all of their names, each one feels like something he's responsible for. ]
I don't think I've done very many good things at all.
[ Jesse might think she isn't very good at comforting him, but Alan thinks otherwise. Even though Jesse's more the type of person to go in punching and hitting, when they're together, she's calm. Reassuring. She's everything he needs.
He continues touching her hair, lightly twining the strands beneath his fingers, pausing only when her eyes slide open just a fraction. He sees her smile and the sparkle in her eyes, and it makes him smile softly in return.
He can see that she loves him; he's never doubted it. The only thing he doubts is his ability to be what and who she needs.
She shifts, and he feels the movement next to him, but his gaze is drawn to her eyes as they shift to look at him. There's something mesmerizing about her eyes; something that just draws him in, and he doesn't resist the pull. Her forehead lightly touches against his as her eyes slide shut, and after a minute or two, his follow suit.
It takes time for him to really drift off into something like a light doze. He might even manage to reach a state of somewhat deeper sleep, but it's always short-lived. Some hours pass, and Alan's features have relaxed slightly as sleep has momentarily pulled him down. Having Jesse nearby helps relax him, but his senses still remain somewhat on alert.
Outside the apartment, a storm is brewing, and the wind is blowing and rain is falling. There's a crack in the sky and a flash of lightning, and another one follows soon after. The LED lights that Jesse left on but dimmed flicker once, and then again, and then they abruptly go out.
Alan shifts on the bed, a frown creasing his forehead and turning his mouth down. Something is setting off warning bells in his mind, and he shifts first to one side and then another, ending back where he started: facing Jesse. There's another thunderclap and Alan's eyes slowly slit open.
He's greeted by a darkened room. It's not pitch black, but his mind plays tricks on him: tricks he was hoping he was past, but very clearly is not. Shapes of things that he knows and would recognize in daylight morph into other things in the darkness, and he feels his breath catch in his throat.
The silhouette of a typewriter flashes before his eyes. There's a door with a spiral on it. There's someone in the room with him; he can hear the low but constant breathing. There's footsteps on the floor, and they're coming closer to him. He spots movement and the flash of something metal moving through the air. A click sounds; the clicking of a gun being readied to fire?
Alan tenses on the bed, one hand instinctively reaching out for Jesse, to try and find her hand to hold it. He fears what he might find, which is nothing: only empty air where Jesse's hand should be. Where Jesse should be. What if she never was there at all? What if none of this was ever real?
She's asleep, if she's actually there, and he doesn't want to disturb her rest, but he can't help but quietly say her name in a tone that's mostly a whisper. ]
... Jesse?