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synthneon2024-04-13 08:24 pm
outlierdirector) wrote in synthneon2024-04-13 08:24 pm
oceanview || ❝ two worlds colliding, there ain't no bargaining. ❞
There ain't no bargaining
No giving in without a fight
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Beneath it all, he feels ripples of anxiety, of stress, and he doesn't really know what to do about them. He doesn't know how to let go and just live.
Still, it doesn't matter. Jesse needs to see that he's appreciative, and also that he's improving. Except he doesn't feel like he is, and he thinks he can see that in her eyes too: a worry that he's not getting better, that maybe he'll be like this forever. Can he really subject her to a lifetime of a life like this? ]
You were a kid when all this happened to you. How were you supposed to know what to do? You handled it how you could, with what you had at the time. No one expected you to make adult decisions, and if they did, well, then, they'd be wrong.
[ He forces himself to breathe through his nose in an effort to make himself relax. Tension is coiling itself up in his shoulders and in his back, and he's trying to push it back down. They need to rest; she needs to sleep. She's the one who still goes to work and deals with who knows what during the day. He can't be selfish and keep her from getting the rest he needs. He knows he's spent too long being selfish already. ]
It would matter, because none of it would be your fault. Maybe the fault for all of this lies with me. With him. I really am selfish.
[ I dragged her into this without so much as asking, and I went after her because part of me wanted to be with her, even if I didn't realize that's what it was at the time. I'm a selfish ass.
A conflicted look pulls at his face even though he tries to push it away, to remain impassive. He wants these internal struggles to go away, but they just don't seem to want to go. ]
Maybe what we need is to meet in the middle. Maybe I should need less. Demand less. It's not your job to take care of me.
[ He feels her rest her cheek against the top of his head, and for what he intends to be only a second, he allows his eyes to briefly close too. ]
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[ Not since Ordinary. She can't run away; can't turn her back. Too many things go wrong. All the damage to the Oldest House with the Hiss is because she showed the Slide Projector to Darling and Trench.
They'll figure it out. They have to. All of this can't be for nothing. Alan fought so long to get out of the Dark Place. It can't just fall apart now that he's home. He can't fall apart. ]
Well, I'm not a kid now. Time to learn and not repeat. Right? Time to learn from the mistakes and not repeat them.
[ A hand timidly rests between his shoulderblade with her cheek to the top of his head. She's never been good at comforting. It probably doesn't help. Still, she's trying to do what she can for him. ]
Isn't... part of things like this to care for each other? I've--none of my relationships really ended well. Obviously. Still, I didn't let any of them in. That's different here. Which means I repay the favor and take care of you.
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But even as he thinks that, he knows that if she ran away, he'd sink again and hit rock bottom, and this time, there wouldn't be recovery. With nothing keeping him afloat, he knows he wouldn't make it very long. Willpower alone wouldn't be enough. ]
That goes for me too, but I don't know if I can do it this time. I'm going to try, of course. I won't be like that person back in 2010. [ Alan's not sure how this will go, but he knows he doesn't want to repeat the same mistakes that he made back then.
He needs to face his problems and not try to drown them out with the things he tried before. Can he do it? He hopes he can, but whether he really can or not is anyone's guess.
Instinctively, he moves to meet the hand at his shoulderblade. Her touch always draws a response from him, makes him seek out her touches instead of pulling away from them. She might think it doesn't help, but it does. It relaxes him. Reminds him that he's home. This is real. ]
Maybe, but... this isn't going to be easy. And even when things were good, back before all this started, it wasn't easy. Now, it really is different.
[ I have her with me, and I love her, but it's going to be hard. Really hard. I'm afraid she'll want to run, even if she says she doesn't.
Out loud, he says: ] There's no favor that you need to pay back. You paid it in all the loops, and outside the loops too. But if you let me just be with you, and let me make up for those other relationships, that's... that's enough.
[ And then he shifts again, still searching for more of that closeness, that touch that helps relax him. ]
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Maybe that's the part you need to find again. [ « The Dark Presence didn't take that from him. He just doesn't realize it. » ] Just like I had to relearn how to trust people; believe that some of them could be trusted.
Nothing is ever easy, Alan.
[ A finger raises and pokes him gently between the shoulder blades. ] You are here with me, aren't you?
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Confidence, or arrogance? [ Maybe he's judging his past self too harshly, but truthfully, he doesn't like him very much. Actually, he doesn't like himself very much even now. ] I guess he was probably a lot better at following through on things. He probably didn't leave things unfinished, things that people bought for him.
[ He's thinking back to the takeout that she bought which he didn't eat. For some reason, that still bothers him. ]
Yeah, maybe. And since there's no handbook on how to do that, I guess I just have to try and hope for the best.
[ And with that thought in mind, he tries to force himself to sound confident and look confident too, even though he feels like he's anything but.
She pokes him between his shoulder blades and he shudders involuntarily, but not out of discomfort. It's a kind of pleased reaction, and something like a muffled laugh escapes him. ]
Yeah. Yeah, I'm with you, but- [ He shrugs lightly and says: ] It's your apartment, so if you ever changed your mind, I'd leave if you told me to.
[ He'd ask if she's sure, but if she insisted, then he'd just go. ]
I want to be with you, and I want to make you happy, so I'm going to work harder to get better.
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[ « Being involved with someone and then jumping into a threshold of another dimension could be considered "leaving things unfinished." » ]
I'm pretty sure that you being on the lease counts as our apartment, Alan. [ Another poke, this time a bit sharper. ] You're not a guest. You're not staying for a small time then leaving. You live here. Right? It's home.
[ « Or... maybe it really isn't and he's just been saying it. I doubt that. He fought too hard to get here so we could have this. Maybe he can't see that he is here for good. » ]
Not just for me. You need to do it for yourself too.
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At least, he can't see that he's ever been very confident around her, and that just makes him despise himself more. ]
I count everything as unfinished. Leaving you behind before. Starting to do things around the apartment and wandering off before I've finished them. Even trying to pick up where I left off thirteen years ago. I know you can see how well that's going.
[ The sharper poke pulls him out of his thoughts that are trying to run away again, but he still finds himself at a loss for how to really respond. He still thinks of this apartment as hers: it's a place she let him into, a place that she carved out a space for him to use. Maybe he needs to reframe his thinking, to think of it all differently. ]
I think... I think I was so focused on escaping and coming home that I didn't really think about what "home" meant for me anymore. That probably doesn't make any sense, but I think that "home" for me was anywhere you were. It didn't have to be a building or a place, but as long as you were there, that's home.
I'll try for both of us. How does that sound?
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That might be for the best. ]
Well, you've already finished one of those things. You came back.
[ The other things she can't say much on. She can see the evidence around the apartment of things he's forgotten to finished. Emily said memory problems were to be expected in people who have come back from thresholds. Alan was there for thirteen years. No one has a clear idea on how his memory is affected.
She doesn't want him to think of it as carving a space for him... but maybe that's exactly the problem. What in the apartment represents Alan? He has the room for his writing and has picked everything in it. Still, that's just one place. Nothing in the apartment that is picked to share them. Just, separate people cohabitating. That isn't what she wants.
Jesse is quiet for a moment. Her eyes close as her hold on him suddenly tightens. Who has ever told her that? The fact that she's considered home for anyone... ]
Well, I'm here. Which means we should build this place as our home. [ Her voice is in quiet tones again. Suddenly, she knows what they should be shopping for in the morning. He needs clothes, but they can also settle on little things that are theirs. ] Yeah. I think that trying for us is the best.
[ Her hand slides from his in order to wrap around him. A leg wraps around his as well. She settles further into the bed and the blanket around them. Subtle signs saying that it's time for them to sleep. Telling him is never really a good idea. ]
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As far as what he remembers, it seems that his memories are sketchy at best, but what he doesn't know is that they're still in his mind somewhere... they've just become buried, hidden from him, but if he could just find the way to uncover them again, he'd remember everything in full. But like everything else he's having to contend with, uncovering them won't be easy.
Still, he has this instinctive feeling that they've seen each other at their lowest points, and they've shown things to each other that no one else has seen: things from their pasts, things they're not proud of. Moments they're not proud of. There really is nothing for him to hide from her now. ]
I came back because I made a promise that I would. I wanted to come back, for you.
[ He feels an overwhelming emotion sweeping over him then and he's forced to stop speaking. Not that he knows what he would say now; sometimes it feels as though he really has run out of words, and he comes to a point where he has nothing more he can say. The reservoir fills itself again with time, but it runs out much faster than it used to.
With his emotions running wild, he leans into her hold as if seeking that feeling of being held and being able to touch another person. He'd say he doesn't need anything more than just her touch, but of course that's not true.
He needs more than that; he needs to do more than what he's doing. He's resolved to give it his best shot, because he considers his words to that effect to be a binding promise as well. ]
Our home. I like the sound of that.
[ He manages to say those words even as she wraps herself around him, settling further into the bed. He knows what she's saying without so many words. It's time to sleep. He may not be able to manage it for very long, but at least he has her with him.
With his free hand, he reaches for her again, fingers lightly touching her red hair as he also settles himself further into the blankets. It's comfortable, even if it feels foreign to some degree. He still has to stop and marvel at these feelings of comfort and of being loved. He has to remind himself that this is real; it's not something in his mind.
His head turns slightly so that he's looking at her. ]
Love you. [ It's just two words, but he puts all the meaning that he can into them, knowing she'll understand. ]
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[ She does note the shiver and how he leans more against her. Jesse just wishes she was better at comforting. Being gentle. She's sure that at this point he needs something calmer. Things she can't really provide. All she can really offer is to punch or break anything that's bothering him.
As long as it's not in the mind.
Her head tilts down as he plays with her hair. Eyes slide open just enough to meet his gaze. A small smile and sparkle come to her expression. The tiny details that say more than any of her words could. She loves him. Deeply. ]
I love you too. [ She whispers it, almost afraid of someone other than him hearing it.
She shifts then to be able to rest against the pillow and look him in the eyes. Maybe that might better than pulling him close. Seeing and feeling her might be better. Jesse gently presses her forehead to his before letting her eyes shut in hopes of luring him to sleep as well. ]
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[ 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?
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His answer to her name is a gentle hum. Then, she rolls into him. Head rests on his collar bone and both arms wrap around him gently. His heartbeat is elevated, but she still simply adjusts how she lays against him and begins to drift off back into her slumber. If he expects more of a response, then he will need to do more to rouse her.
Fingers gently brush along the fabric of his shirt. Some part of her sleeping mind is aware that he's panicked. Afraid. That part reaches out to soothe him as she feels he needs. Not that she is aware of any change in their surroundings still. All she wishes to do is bring him back into a gentle slumber with her so they can face the morning together. ]
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A part of him feels a stab of regret and disgust at himself for needing to hold her hand, risking waking her up. But the action was both voluntary and involuntary; a habit of his, now. He's just glad she remained asleep.
He feels her roll over, rolling further into him, and her closeness helps take some of the edge of fear off. It doesn't take it all, but it helps. He still feels his heart pounding and his anxieties rattling him, but Jesse's there. He can feel her. She's real. Solid. Warm. She's not a figment of his imagination.
His eyes remain open, staring up at the ceiling in an effort to not look too much around the room. His mind is determined to turn harmless shapes in the room into terrifying specters designed to haunt him. But even looking at the ceiling doesn't help. He remembers a ceiling fan and a deer mask, and blood. Blood everywhere. That wasn't in the writer's room, but in another room. In a loop. But he still remembers it, even if it's an isolated memory.
He hates this. He just wants to sleep without being haunted by the darkness and the monsters in the dark.
Her fingers brush along his shirt, and he shifts to feel more of that touch, even if it's brief and light. It doesn't chase away his fears, but it helps remind him that she's real. What he's seeing in the dark isn't. The power has to come back on eventually, and the specters he's seeing in the darkness will be chased away when it does.
... He hopes so, anyway.
For now, he shifts over more, pressing himself against her as much as he can without waking her up. He doesn't want her to wake up; he wants her to rest. But he just wants to be able to feel her and remind himself that he can feel her. Hopefully lying next to her, skin to skin, will help. He forces himself to breathe through his nose, to just breathe at all, but nothing except the lights turning back on will settle his nerves.
A wild thought occurs to him then: maybe if he can't sleep because of his panic, he can write an alternate scenario in his mind. It won't come to life because it doesn't work that way anymore, but maybe it'll distract him enough from the stifling darkness.
As his mind starts to form ideas, his fingers curl against the sheets beneath his hand, and he nestles more against her. It's going to be a long night, but he'll get through it as long as she's there. ]
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Eventually, she feels that pull from Polaris and Jesse forces herself awake.
Her eyes open slightly.
That is when she realizes the change.
Everything is pitch black.
Jesse feels herself wake up fully in that moment. It means that Alan will be in a panic. Her head lifts to look up at him, realizing that she's found herself somehow against him and in his arms. Her red hair is a mess and slips down into her face. One hand raises to rub at her eye. ]
Alan? [ Sleep is still in her voice even as she begins to push herself up onto her arms. Jesse hovers over him slightly, looking down at him to try and make out his expression in the dark. ] How long have you been awake?
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He feels Jesse shifting, signalling that she's beginning to wake up, and he feels his body tense even further because he hates feeling like he's just causing her more trouble and headaches in return for all the help she's been trying to give him.
But it's too late, she's awake now and he feels her gaze land on him. Something about the whole situation (not her, just his inability to sleep and not be a disturbance) makes his skin crawl. The lights being out doesn't help with that either. ]
Not long. [ He inwardly cringes when he hears the strained tension in his voice, and he tries to fight to push it away so he can sound more normal. The result is a half-hearted attempt at best, which only annoys him more. ] The power went out because there's a storm outside. The storm woke me up.
[ Yeah. The storm, not the power going out. Exactly. ]
You should go back to sleep, if you can. It's still early. [ She's pushing herself up on her arms so he can't reach for her hand to hold it, so instead he reaches out to touch the strands of red hair falling down around her face. ]
Sorry I woke you up.
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« Then again, I don't look at as much weather forcasts as I probably should. It's more than just you and me in the house. And, if it's like this, Alan may not want to leave the apartment. »
She leans into his touch. A gentle smile takes her face even if he can't see it. She lingers only a moment before shifting to the bedside table. The sound of the drawer opens. A moment later, Jesse presses a flashlight into his hand. ]
Here, take this. Don't apologize, okay? Things happen. [ Jesse knows the exhaustion is in her voice. Still, neither of them can sleep as they are. ] Come on, follow me. We need to check the fuses then get the oil lamps.
[ A gentle pat to his side for him to follow with the flashlight. One hand reaches for his free one as the flashlight comes to life and he can use it to see. Jesse quietly leads him out of the bedroom and towards the bathroom where the fusebox rests. She flips the fuses to off, then on, confirming that it isn't on their ends. The fuses that are blown are swapped back to place, then she turns and smiles at him. Bed head and all. ]
You okay?
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Jesse's touch is what brings him back to the present, but he can't seem to stay there long before he finds himself slipping back in his mind to that other reality.
He startles when he feels the flashlight being pressed into his hand, and he has another vivid flashback to shining the flashlight beam at a particularly aggressive Taken. But Jesse's voice cuts in again, and she's saying something. What is it? Things happen? They do, but he wishes they happened a lot less.
Still, he can tell she's giving him directions just as he can tell that she's still tired. Of course she is. He did wake her up, after all.
Her hand patting his side pulls him out of his nervous reverie, and he feels her other hand take hold of his. The flashlight beam illuminates a small circle in front of them both, but just that small amount of light doesn't truly ease Alan's nerves. He follows after Jesse and watches as she checks on the fusebox. Once she's done, he watches her turn back to him, offering a smile.
He tries to return a smile of his own, but it's a strained effort. ]
I'm... [ He tries to think of the best word to describe his state of being at the moment, and it comes to him after a few seconds. The hand holding the flashlight shakes involuntarily as he replies, and he glares down at the offending hand before he looks back up at her, thinking that she's pretty even with the bedhead look. ] Peachy. You?
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« I thought holding it would help. It... I should have known better. Can you do anything for him? »
As Jesse works, Polaris gently brushes against Alan's mind. That gentle sound is always present in the apartment, and merely intensifies to what he must be used to when Jesse is home with him. Now, however, the sound increases volume at the request of her host. Not for long. Just enough to remind Alan he is safe and in a place where the resonance is dominate. Not just existing, or present, but is the only force in the area. Save, of course, the light that Alan has within him. ]
"Peachy."
[ "Great. Peachy. Just peachy. What about you? Are you okay?"
"'Peachy.' Maybe I'm a bit more than peachy. But, not much more."
Jesse's eyes dart to the side as her jaw sets. She can't remember the exact time around in "Return" that he said it. The words had to do with something about the manuscript page he had editted to keep them in the story. The manuscript page she gave back to him in trust he could use it one last time. The final loop of "Return." The one she refused to take back before she let him drive off. He'd need it wherever he was going. Even if he didn't need the reminder? It was another thing he could keep that represented they had happened once.
Her eyebrows knit slightly. A hairline frown presses to her mouth.
« I hate thinking about it. I hate that story. Even if we're here because of it. »
Jesse gently takes the flashlight from him into her own hand. Right. Oil lamps are out because he can barely hold anything and she only has so many arms. Her powers could help, but she doubts floating objects will be good for him at the moment.
« Next idea. Back up of the back up. » ]
Better than "peachy." Not really by much though. [ She finally answers the question in a vaguely similar way she had once before. A squeeze of the hand she holds before taking him back to the bedroom.
A gesture is given to him to sit back on the bed. Then, she moves to the end of their shared sleeping space. A drawer comes out and she pulls out an LED light. It's not what she'd prefer to use given there is no indication of how long the power will be out. Still, there's more light it gives off than oil lamps. She flicks the light on and a warm color fills the space of the bed. Her arm stretches out to put it between their pillows.
Then, she sits on the bed with him. Quiet. Looking down with the frown still on her face.
« I never asked him... or had the time to ask, really. What happened to that manuscript page? Emily would have told me if they found it on him and had to keep it in the Panopticon due to being an Altered Item. He... did he lose it after all? »
Somehow, the idea of the page being lost hurts. More than she thought it would. It shouldn't matter as they're together now, and they have their Deerfest 2023 charms. It shouldn't, but...
« What... what if it somehow made it's way to those versions of us trying to get through "Departure"? No. Jesse, that's a stupid idea. It's not important anyways. »
Her hands reach out to his. They rest gently on top. ]
Dylan hated thunderstorms. He didn't like the sound. [ « Which, I guess is ironic. Given you and the Hiss. » ] I always thought they were soothing.
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How can she be happy living like this? All I'm doing is letting her down.
He feels that brush against his mind, and he knows that Polaris is trying to reach out, increasing the volume, the resonance. Reminding him that he's not trapped in the dark, even if the lights have temporarily gone out. He's home. He's safe. His mind is trying to tell him otherwise, but right now, he doesn't want to listen to his mind. ]
Yeah. Peachy.
[ He doesn't have clear memories of when he said that before either, but he has a vague feeling that it came up in an exchange between them. It's not a positive memory, because how could it be? The only thing positive about all the loops they lived through was them, and those positives were nearly drowned out by the horror of it all.
He hates thinking about it as much as Jesse does, and yet he can't seem to stop thinking about it.
Suddenly, he feels her fingers brush against his as she takes the flashlight from him. He opens his mouth to protest, knowing that this is just one more time that he's disappointed her and failed to go along with her plans. ]
I'm sorry, I- why do I keep messing up? [ The frustrated words escape him before he can squash them down. ] You're not better. You're- you must be tired of this. Tired of me. I'm trying to be better, but I don't think it's working.
[ She leads him back to their shared room, and she gestures to the bed, but he doesn't move towards it right away. He pauses for a second, but he can't stand the thought of disappointing her again, so he moves to sit down, keenly aware of the frown she's wearing. ]
Why don't I take that light and go out to the couch? I'll sleep there so I don't bother you again tonight. Or, what's left of tonight.
[ He feels her hands reach out to him, resting on his, and he can't bear to pull his hands away from her touch. He knows he should leave; he should go out to the living room, to the couch, and let her go back to sleep.
But she keeps talking, and he can't turn away when she's talking. ]
I never minded them, before. [ Now, he minds everything too much. He gives her an apologetic look before he continues. Maybe he shouldn't mention Alice. But it's just something to say to continue the conversation. ] Alice didn't like them either. The sound got to her too. I never minded them, unless they took the power out. Funny how that works, huh?
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« If only it was. » ]
I wish things were better. Not because I'm tired of it. Because I want you free of the Dark Place. You're not there anymore. You're here. Home. With us. I want you to finally feel free of it all and live again.
What if I'm not the person who can help you with that? [ The frown deepens on her face. ] What if you need someone else? Someone who can actually be... normal.
Not that it's about me. None of this is. It's trying to help you. I just--[ her head tilts to the side and her eyes dart away. They briefly went over this at "dinner"... yet it keeps coming up. Looping. Again.
« We can't keep doing this. We can't keep looping. We're OUT of the damn Dark Place! » ]
No, we can't keep having this conversation. We can't keep going over the same things. We're just--doing the same thing. Over and over again. [ Her gaze narrows at the LED light. ] I know what you're going to say. You know what I'm going to say. We stop doing this. We stop it now. We're not going to keep looping.
[ Her gaze turns back to his. That firey determination is in her eyes. It has to stop or he's going to keep circling in all this. He's free of the Dark Place. ]
I know this is going to take time. This isn't going to be healed over weeks or months. Things like this aren't easy fixes. [ Jesse clamps down on his hands with her own. Green eyes pierce right into his. ] Alan.
Why are you still letting it control you? [ She tugs on his hands to pull him closer. ] Saga shot Scratch out of you. The Dark Presence isn't here. It can't come into the apartment. It isn't outside the door waiting to be let in.
[ Hands raise to place on either side of his face. Not harshly or painfully. Just enough pressure to force his attention entirely on nothing else. ]
Alan Wake. It's not going to take me away from you.
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I don't know if I'll ever be free of it. The Dark Place isn't physically here, but it's in my mind. My thoughts. How do I get rid of it?
[ His head raises slightly and gray eyes lock onto her green ones. ]
I don't want to do this without you. Even if it feels like you can't help, I- I don't want you to go. I don't need normal. Normal wouldn't understand this: the darkness, the enemies that can't be seen but are still all too real... I wouldn't stand a chance without you.
It's my fault we're like this. It's my fault we're looping. I can't stop looping, even now that I'm home.
[ He feels it when she clamps her hands down onto his, and the pressure on his hands helps distract him from the swirling thoughts in his head. ]
What if the Dark Presence and Scratch are gone, but the Dark Place is still here? It's still here, in my head. The memories of it are still there, even if I don't want them to be.
[ He wants to close his eyes, but closing his eyes means he can't see her anymore. It means he can't see her bright green eyes staring back at him. He doesn't want to close his eyes and be lost in the darkness of his mind. It's bad enough that the memories still plague him. He doesn't want to be in the dark anymore. ]
Do we know that? Do I know that one day, something won't make you leave?
[ Her job is dangerous. Something could take her away, and we wouldn't be able to stop it. I wouldn't be able to stop it. ]
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He needs someone to listen. Then, to help him focus once all the words are out.
Once he asks the questions? She understands where to take their conversation. Alan is someone who can only push forward once his mind has been made up on his own. Telling him won't do anything. He'll spin on himself and stay in place because he can't see the way for himself. Maybe that is why he has always seemingly latched onto the description he's made for Polaris: the guiding star.
Jesse slowly lets her hands slide from his face, but only so she can maneuver how she needs to. One leg raises to rest on the other side of his hips and she settles in his lap. Forcing him to see only her. Focus on her. Her hands settle on the tops of his shoulders. Once she's certain his attention is on her and not the shapes in the room beyond the light, or the rain and wind? She lowers her head. She stops shy of bringing their foreheads together. Red hair tumbles over her shoulders and frames both of their faces. ]
Hey. [ Jesse's eyebrows raise slightly. ] Are you going to let those things take me away? [ Her hands then move to rest on his jawline. ] Are you going to let the Dark Place take me away?
[ She already knows the answer. Alan even knows the answer. However, he needs to remind himself of it. He needs to find the answer again and speak it out loud and hear it with his own ears. In the end, only he can beat his fears. He just needs the right push sometimes. The right guiding star. ]
Will you let it keep looping you around to the point you can't see me?
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Could it be both habit and defense mechanism? Alan thinks it's certainly something annoying.
The words seem to flow from him until they come to a stop, because the ideas have come to a stop. He always has words, because there never seems to be a shortage of them, but his ideas bubble up and then run their course until he lapses into silence like he's doing now. Then he feels Jesse move; he thinks he sees a ripple or hears a sound that he associates with Polaris, but maybe it's still only in his mind.
Her hands move from his face, and he registers the lack of warmth with her hands gone, but he doesn't protest. He doesn't really move, countering the spinning that his mind is doing. But then he registers an added weight as she settles herself in his lap. He can't help but look at her when she does; it's that gravitational pull tugging at him and forcing his focus from its inward state to an outward one: an outward one focused on her, and only her.
The darkness beyond the small circle of light still threatens to pull away his focus, and he still sees strange, frightening shapes that threaten him, but his eyes remain on hers. ]
... Hey. [ His voice is lower and quieter, and there's just the barest hint of a faraway look in his eyes that still are focusing on hers. ] Am I going to... [ It clicks in his mind what she's just said and he instantly shakes his head. ]
Never. Nothing's going to take you away, not the Dark Presence, not Scratch, not anything.
[ But sickness took Alice away. You can't fight that.
He doesn't have a counter for that, so he doesn't even try to give one. ]
I'm not letting it- I'm... how do I stop my own thoughts? They do what they want; they come up when they want, and I can't... I can see you, but it's the thoughts that won't go away. The intrusive, unwanted thoughts that won't stop.
[ Why won't they stop? She knows I want them to stop, right? I don't want this to keep happening, but I can't make it stop happening either. ]
I'm trying, I'm not giving up.
[ His hands clench into fists in front of him as frustration and annoyance and fear rise up all at once. In a way, he misses the things he could take aim at and fire at and bring down. He can't bring down his own mind, not without bringing himself down too. ]
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Her hands slide down his arms and then down to his own hands. They gently--despite how strong and calloused they've become--curl around his. Then, she guides them to rest on her hips. He can hold onto her. Physically feel something when his mind is wandering and creating things that aren't truly in the space with him.
The smallest of smiles shows on her mouth and more in her eyes. His determination will always make her smile. Make that part of her that is brigter shine and the love come to the surface. ]
If they won't go away... maybe you can change them. Reshape them? [ « I'm not sure where I'm going with this. But, I'm sure a nightlight or something like the Clicker won't help anymore. If they ever did at all. » ] Every time something dark comes in? Bring up a brighter thoughts. Memories. Things that will make it so you see the shapes in the dark aren't there. That they can't take me away.
[ Jesse gently rests her forehead to his. Maybe if all he can see and all he can feel is her, it will help him get through the night.
Fingers trail up his forearm to rest on his elbows. Then, a gentle chime echoes in his mind. The familiar resonance gently raising itself to fill any available places. No other resonance is in the apartment. This is Polaris' domain. Still, it may help to reassure the Writer that nothing lurks in the dark. ]
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But the best way to distract him from those memories is what Jesse's already doing: placing herself in front of him so she's all he sees. Holding his hands and letting him hold onto her so he knows he's not alone. It helps, even if it feels like it doesn't, or looks like it doesn't.
He can feel some of his old resolve surfacing again; the Dark Presence tried to bury it, tried to carve it out of him, but it never managed to achieve that. Maybe it was Alan's own stubbornness that helped, but he'd be the first to insist that he wouldn't have survived if not for Jesse. ]
Maybe... Brighter thoughts. Brighter memories. [ Then Alan smiles; it's a small smile, but it lights up something in his face and eyes. ] You know who's in the brightest memories that I have? It's you. It's always been you.
[ He can't really explain it in words, even though words are his strong suit, but he just has a vision in his mind of Jesse standing or hovering with a bright light surrounding her. That signifies Polaris, even if she's more of a resonance than a brightness herself, but it's just the image that his mind has settled on. Sometimes if he looks hard enough, he sees a shimmer around Jesse instead of the burst of bright light. It's faint, but he can see it: he can see the strange geometric pattern forming circles around Jesse.
It's that mental image that makes Alan wonder if there's even any brightness left in him; maybe he was in the dark too long, and the only way he can bring that brightness to life is with outside help. Flashlights, lamps, Polaris resonating with him...
Maybe there's no separating the darkness from him anymore. Maybe the light can wake up with help, but it'll always go back to sleep again until the next time something or someone wakes it up.
It seems to be waking up now, with Jesse sitting so close to him, fingers trailing up his arms, and- there's that sound, that brush against his mind, everything he associates with Polaris. He even thinks he sees a glimpse of that curious ripple as he stares at Jesse.
He just keeps looking at her, leaning slightly forward into her hold, as some of the tension eases itself out of his frame. Shoulders lower and his posture relaxes just slightly, but he can still see menacing shapes lurking in the corners of the room. ]
I think- I think I can do it, as long as you're still here. I know how that sounds; it sounds as insane as everything else I've ever said, and I've said a lot of insane things, but you help me remember that the darkness can't get us here. [ It can't get me here. ]
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