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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
no subject
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?
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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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« It fits. Now, if only he'd remember that's who he is more often. » ]
Me? Really. [ A playfulness is in her tone despite the questioning. She would have thought moments with Alice. His friend and ex-manager. Things that happened before Bright Falls. Not .... just her. ] Well, what if I told you a secret?
[ There are times Jesse can be playful and something other than cynical and locked down. Alan is one of the few people on the planet that can bring that out of her consistently. It's one of the reasons she loves him so much. For all the talk of how she brings out the best in him? She feels he does the same for her. He makes it so she can be something more than the Director and the paranoid woman left over from Ordinary.
Fingers trail from his elbows and up the back of his arms. Then, arms slide around his shoulders to hold onto him comfortably. Motions they've done before and she hopes they keep doing. Things that make it them, even as the storm rages outside. All she can think about is him at the moment. No crazy stories, no storms, no power out. Just her writer finally home from the night. ]
I can only be as bright as I am because of someone else. [ Her forehead presses against his further. She lets the smile show more on her face for him. ] And, I don't think he even realizes it. He gets so busy seeing all the darkness around him, that he doesn't realize the light that he gives off to make everyone else so bright.
[ « God, that was lame. It sounded so much better in my head. Words really aren't my thing. Still... they're what Alan uses to communicate. What he understands best. »
Jesse tilts her head up slightly. ]
My writer who is always this way, even when he can't see it or forgets it. [ One hand moves to cup his face again so he can't move away. ] The Champion of Light.
[ And then, before he can protest further, Jesse kisses him gently. More than a brush of her lips to his, but nothing hungry or heated. A loving motion to help ease him into a state that will hopefully lead to him sleeping. Really sleeping.
That, and she realizes that they haven't kissed since she got home earlier in the evening. ]
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The months that followed haven't felt particularly groundbreaking to him either.
Am I rushing this too much? Is part of the problem that I'm going about this too quickly? I don't feel ready to do much of anything, let alone get back to living, but I think I should be ready to do some things by now.
Maybe it's one of those "jump first, ask questions later" kind of things.
He pulls himself out of his thoughts just in time to hear Jesse respond. ]
Yeah, you. I think... I remember something about a film that Alice made, and I think I used it at some point in the story. I don't remember everything that the film was about, but I remember that there was a lot of light in it. Sunlight. Sunrise. That's what I see when you're here: light. So much light that darkness can't exist when it's around.
[ He pauses in his recollection of that memory that's become faded over time, pausing once more to listen to Jesse speak. He knows she's talking about him, but to his ears, it sounds foreign. Removed. Distant. She sounds like she's talking about someone else, another person. Another man who isn't Alan Wake. Who is Alan Wake? No, I know who I am. I won't doubt myself anymore. ]
This someone else must be... well, he must be something else if he can manage to do all of that. [ His lips turn up into a half-smile. There's an inscrutable expression in his gray eyes now. Is it doubt? Sadness? A little of both? ]
Maybe he doesn't realize it because he can't see it. Maybe all he can see is the darkness. Does the light actually come from him, or from someone else? Some Champion of Light. Maybe he's not the real champion after all. Maybe you're the actual Champion of Light, and he's just an imitation.
[ He finds himself interrupted, stopped by a gentle kiss brushing itself against his lips. He feels a deep longing for her, a deep feeling of being broken and damaged but whole enough that he can love her. He can still love her with whatever he has left. And damn it, I do love her. I love her so much.
She kisses him, and he leans in just slightly- ever so slightly, but close enough that he can lightly run his fingers through her fire red hair.
He feels a confusing mixture of emotions and feelings running through him as the gentle kiss continues. He feels the love he has for her, but he also feels the hands of exhaustion beginning to pull him down again, even though he never willingly gives into sleep. Sleep is when the nightmares come, and when he's asleep, he's at their mercy, trapped in the dark until he inevitably jolts awake, terrified.
He leans in just slightly, pressing his forehead against hers, wanting to delay the moment that they both return to sleep. Or, on second thought, delaying that moment for him. She needs the sleep the most. ]
I'm sorry, again. Sorry that I woke you up. [ He brushes his lips lightly against hers in a feather-light touch. ] I'm glad that you're here, though. I'm always glad that you're here.
[ He ghosts his fingers along the fringe of her hair, gray eyes searching hers and just trying to fill his senses with everything that's her. Maybe this time, when sleep takes him again, he'll only dream of her. That would be a nice change, even if it's unlikely. ]
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Jesse practically stills once he says her name. Not out of anger, jealousy, or disgust. Something more like insecurity. Never being able to compare to Alice Wake--not that she should. But, she isn't an artist. She isn't someone who knew Alan before all the insanity with Cauldron Lake happened. In her mind? Alice is someone untouchable and monumental to Alan that she couldn't even begin to play the same role as in his life. It's not that Alan asked her to replace Alice. No one can. Alan didn't ask her to fill that space either.
« I just can't be the kind of wife that Alice was for him. Wait. Wife? He'd never ask me to marry him. Would I... Jesse Wake. It... I don't know. »
Except, that is something of a lie. She does know that she'd like the sound of it. Maybe it doesn't flow as well as her name now, but, there is something about the idea of looking over and seeing a wedding ring on his hand that's them. Something that strikes her in the same way their charms do. Something that represents them. ]
I'll see what I can find. [ Maybe finding the film his wife made will help. ] I'm not the same as light. Polaris is... she's a resonance, but she is also a sound. So, maybe it's that you associate with light?
[ She gives a huff of a laugh to his lips.] He does all of that for me. I'm not the Champion of Light. I wasn't chosen by it for some war between light and dark. I was chosen by something else. And she decided to help the Light because they're... compatible? Complimentary? Just like the Hiss and the Darkness are. And, she's a little territorial. She doesn't like other entities in her area.
[ Polaris shimmers at that.
Her lips gently brushes over his again. There's always a need to kiss him and touch him more. Bringing them together to make the brightest loudest space where nothing else can exist. This, however, isn't the time for it. Now is just the time for them to be together in a gentle sense. ]
I'd rather you wake me up then be tormented in the dark alone. Didn't I say at some point that you're not alone? You have both of us now. [ She gently presses her forehead to his. ] Yeah. We're both here. Together. So, don't apologize when it's how I can help care for you. Okay?
[ She gently kisses him once more. ] Ready to try and sleep again?
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Still, he felt that the time was right to close the chapter on his life with Alice. He waited until Jesse had gone to work for the day, and when silence fell over the apartment, he took off his wedding ring, and holding it in one hand, he said a brief but no less heartfelt goodbye to Alice. Somehow, he knew that Alice would approve of him striking out into new territory: into a new relationship. Maybe it was only in his imagination, but he thought he saw her looking at him, smiling and nodding. People might tell him that was just his own wishful thinking, but he believes otherwise.
He believes that was Alice giving her blessing and passing the torch to Jesse.
As for marriage, well- he knows he'd like to put a ring on Jesse's finger: a special ring, one they picked out together. And he'd be honored to wear a ring given to him by her. He'd never push the idea of marriage, and he wouldn't ever force her to take on his name, but he'd also be lying if he said he didn't want to one day propose to her. ]
No, that's fine. I don't think copies of it exist anyway. Maybe it never existed. I just- I don't remember a lot about it, or maybe I made up what it was, changing it for the story. Maybe it doesn't matter. You've done so much for me already, Jesse. I won't ask you to do more. Maybe you're not the same as light, but- when all I see around me is darkness... It's so dark, even when the lights are on, and I-
[ His voice falters. He's afraid; he jumps at shadows, and he feels terror settle in on him when the sun begins to set. ]
I'm not scared of anything when you're here. When I can tell Polaris is here. Well, almost anything. But you're what keeps me calm. It's like wearing an old flannel shirt. It's comfortable and warm and it makes everything feel safe. I feel like that when you're here.
[ He very nearly breaks the contact between them as his shoulders curl forward slightly. If she wasn't right in front of him, he'd hunch over and put his head into his hands. He can't do that with her right there, so he never completes the action. Maybe it's for the best. How many more times will she see him fall apart in front of her? He'd be able to live up to his words of feeling safe when she's here if not for the darkness outside the circle of light put off by the LEDs. It's lurking, watching and waiting, and it makes Alan feel like he could crawl out of his skin.
But still, her words wash over him, sinking in as he lets the light she and Polaris brings resonate through him. Maybe it's more sound than light, as she described, but Alan still associates it all with light. Brightness. Growing brighter. He doesn't know if he can make things grow brighter anymore, but there's someone who still can. ]
It doesn't stop. It never stops. [ His voice lowers by a few decibels as the darkness in his mind threatens to drown out what he can sense of Polaris. Of Jesse. It can't drown them out; he needs them. He needs to be able to feel them if he even hopes to stay calm. ] When- when the lights go out, it...
[ Alan shudders in her hold. Tormented in the darkness is an accurate way of describing what he goes through at night; it's almost too accurate. He lets out a shaky exhale as he tries to push down the fear that's starting to rise. If he lets it grow too much, he'll never get back to sleep. ]
Okay. [ It's all he can think of to say, other than more apologies and more wishful expressions of wanting to be better. ]
... Yeah. I'm ready. It'll go better this time, I promise.
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If Alan suggested it? She would only ask if he was sure of the notion. Then, she would say yes.
Still, she plans to see if she can find any footage of that video. She has no idea Alan has already had his closure. Only that one day he stopped wearing the ring that signified his marriage. She never asked why he took it off. It's not her business.
She smiles. ] An old flannel shirt? You did look good in it.
[ « When he wasn't covered in blood. »
The smile turns to a small frown. A hand rests on the top of his head. It'll take time for this to all work out. This just happens to be a time where it feels as if that fact is so far out. She gives his shoulders a squeeze before reaching over and putting the lamp above them on the top of the headrest. Then, she guides him to lay down with her beneath the blankets. She holds onto him, hoping that her breathing and Polaris' gentle rhythm will lure him into a state of sleep. One where he feels comforted and protected.
Something she can say she certainly doesn't feel in her sleep and that is far from Alan's fault or reasoning. It isn't his doing her dream isn't a dream and more like viewing the memory that belongs to someone else.
Especially when it is a memory and not a dream.
She's never seen the room before. Concrete, covered in hanging lights, a small folding table in the middle with an old shoebox. She's never seen the people in the room with her, even though she feels as if she knows them. That is, until her eyes move over to the shoebox and she sees a familiar person. A man in a gray tweed jacket with elbow patches and jeans. He's standing at the shoebox with his back to them.
Jesse knows who it is immediately and her heart pounds. Not out of anxiety or fear. No, it's because she's happy to finally put an end to all the madness around them. She's finally a help to someone. A special someone who loves her, and, she loves him in return. Even if the emotions seem so knotted up inside her she isn't sure what emotion ties to what. Jesse knows what the feeling is, despite the memory holding version of her being unsure of the source or emotion.
Things happen in rapid succession but also somehow slowed down. Everyone else is admiring the lights as she stands there at the ready to go. Backpack in hand. Flashlight on the side. He's gotten what he needs and now she's ready to move out. No one else has seemed to notice how he hesitantly puts the white object in his inner coat and folds the manuscript page up. He then starts making his way to the door. He tells them all to stay where they are and he'll be back once he's put an end to it all.
Jesse feels fear spike through her and quickly moves to the door to be ready to slip out with him. Their eyes meet there. The words back and forth between them are something she can't recall. It's heated, direct, and every passing word makes a her heart clench. Her anxiety spike. Eyes widen. Hands shake. She knows what he intends to do and she won't let him. She's going to stay with him until the end.
Except, she doesn't get the chance to follow him. He slips out behind the door. The moment she goes to move after him the door shuts as if slammed by some unseen force. It echoes in her mind and through her whole person. Straight through her legs and down into the floor below her.
He's gone.
Just like everyone in Ordinary.
Alan's gone.
The admission to herself in her mind is enough to make something break. The Jesse who has lived this event can't identify the feeling right away, but the one seeing it as a dream can. She knows that feeling. The feeling that something precious was stolen away and the place that feeling once was just feels numb. So numb that it is all encompassing. Consuming.
The only difference is that she had to let it happen. This Jesse had no choice.
She feels herself lean against one of the many metal beams that holds the room together. Then, she slides down it. Everything collapses in a graceless motion as she stares at the door. Every inch of her feels numb, but she can't call it an out of body experience. She very much hears and feels the way the other people try to get her attention. It just feels so disconnected.
Alan's gone. He promised--he said... now he's... he's...
Jesse's eyes snap open.
It takes a moment for her senses to filter back. The room in her apartment. LED lamp on. Her eyes widen and her gaze swings to her side. Her heart pounds with the fear that Alan--her Alan--has disappeared. Green eyes find his expression soft in a slumber.
Jesse inhales and presses her lips together as tears unexpectedly gather. She would reach out to touch him if she knew it wouldn't rouse him. Instead, for some time, she merely lays there and watches him sleep. The way his chest falls and rises. How he shifts in his sleep. The fact he is truly asleep.
Eventually, Jesse quietly pulls herself from the bed. Her fingers latch onto the keychain at the side of the bed before she ungracefully collapses into the window seat. Her legs pull up and her hands drape over her knees. Then, her gaze moves to the keychain in her hands. Fingers brush over the outline of where the buck should slip in to make then completed pair. They brush over it again and again and again.
« I let him go. My Alan. I had to in order for him and Saga to finish "Return." He had to go and I couldn't follow. It was MY choice.
My choice and it still... »
Her lips press together. This hasn't been the first time she's seen something connecting to another version of herself. In the Writer's Room. Alan in her lap, and suddenly, the room filled with overhead light as she held Alan's hand beside her. Jesse felt anxious, unsure of what to do to help her Alan. The other her must have felt the same way and it allowed them to share a moment.
This time... it must have been because the other version of herself feels the same way she felt at the parking area next to Cauldron Lake.
« It broke her heart. "Return" broke mine. »
The admission makes her inhale once more. She feels the tears in her eyes that never fall. Her thumbs continue to brush over the charm. She remains sitting in the same place even as the sun begins to rise. Her hands and legs have grown cold. Not that she has noticed any of those changes.
That numbing feeling from her other self remains so consuming it is all she notices. ]
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He's barely begun thinking about things like getting married again, but he knows that if it came up, he wouldn't hesitate. He can't hesitate again, not when it comes to them. Too many years were lost while he was trapped in the Dark Place, and now that he's free, he doesn't want to waste another second of time.
He opens his mouth to say something, to maybe tell her more about the vague memories he has of Alice's film and the significance of flannel, but to his surprise, he finds exhaustion gently tugging at him once more. Maybe it is time to sleep, even if he doesn't sleep very long. He smiles slightly at the feel of her hand resting on top of his head. Being touched by her is something he likes, but he's also been wary about asking for it too much. The last thing he wants to be is too needy.
She sees to things like the placement of the lamp, and then she's guiding him to lie down again, and he does so without protest. Feeling her holding onto him is also reassuring, and although he fights off sleep until the very last second that his eyes finally close and sleep pulls him the rest of the way down, it achieves its goal in the end.
That is, until some time later that something nudges against Alan's sleeping mind. He's not quite sure what it is, but he witnesses a confusing blur of images and sounds, and a sound that tugs at his thoughts. The images are blurred and he can't pick anything specific out, but he knows something is happening. Somehow, even though he remains asleep, his senses are trying to tell him something.
Then, the blur of images is replaced by an even more confusing rush of feelings, and Alan feels himself starting to climb out of his sleeping state. There's guilt and regret, and anger and frustration, and at the top of it all, worry. Worry about Jesse, but why? What's happening? The feelings feel familiar, and he knows he's experienced all of them all at once, several times over the last thirteen years. He's continuing to experience them even now.
His sleeping mind can't quite articulate what these feelings mean or what the implication is, but on some level, he knows that something beyond himself and beyond Jesse is happening. Didn't he manage to reach another Jesse from another timeline? Could the timelines be converging somehow? It's too much of a lofty subject for him to puzzle out while he's still asleep, but the basics are still forming themselves in his mind.
After some time, Jesse wakes up, but Alan remains asleep, although he's traveled from a deeper state of sleeping to a lighter one. He shifts slightly, moving his arm to reach for Jesse, but eventually, he stills again, except for a rise and fall of breath.
She leaves the bed, and a slight frown creases on his forehead as if he senses a sudden chill rushing in to fill in the space where she once was. But he doesn't wake up, not yet. Something is still tugging at his mind, telling him that all is not well, but part of him is still stubbornly clinging to the sleep he's managed to take hold of.
Another sound echoes in his mind, and he's not sure if it came from Jesse, or if it came from something... otherworldly. A connection that exists on a different plane. Maybe Jesse didn't make an audible sound, but someone sounded like they were crying. Maybe they're crying on the inside, not letting anything show on the outside. Alan's brow furrows more, and he rolls over onto his side, one arm stretching out to reach for... what?
His eyelids seem to flicker, and slowly, they slit open. He's not facing Jesse's side of the bed, but facing outwards, and- wait.
Awareness is taking its time returning to him, but he thinks he can see Jesse sitting on the window seat. How long has she been there? How long ago did she leave the bed?
Gray eyes open the rest of the way, and Alan shifts again, slowly pushing himself up from the bed until he's standing up. He'd come up next to her to put his arms around her, but he figures she'd notice before he even got halfway there. Still, he moves closer, wanting to sit with her and hold her.
He's not sure what exactly disturbed her rest, but he has a feeling it has something to do with them. He's almost directly in front of her, but she hasn't moved or given any indication that she's seen him, and that means that she's lost in thought, or lost in a conversation with Polaris. The last thing he intends is to disturb her, so he slowly moves closer until he's able to lower himself down to the window seat as well, and he stays there, just watching her to see what she'll do. ]
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