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?
[ He knows by now that mentioning Alice around her isn't a good thing, and the last thing he ever wants is to make her feel put out by the fact that he was once married. He'll never compare Jesse to Alice, or Alice to Jesse. Both women are important to Alan, and he loves both of them very much. His time with Alice was complicated at best and unhealthy for both of them at worst, but he still loved Alice deeply.
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.
[ Jesse herself would never suggest the idea of marriage. She wouldn't want to encroach on that space she sees as something shared between Alan and Alice. While their marriage had ended due to the death of his wife? That hardly stopped Alice from somehow reaching out to save her husband. Death or dimensions wasn't going to stop the two. Jesse doesn't want to step into something she sees as so personal and deeply connected to the two.
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. ]
[ This is a new chapter. It's a new start. Alice is still with him in some way, but now he and Jesse are embarking on a new chapter in both of their lives. The two of them need to find ways to live, both together and individually, and Alan just needs to find ways to live with the effects of the last thirteen years. Some of those effects have trickled down to Jesse too, and he regrets that more than anything, but it can't be changed now.
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. ]
[ Jesse can see the movement from the corner of her eyes. Alan has woken up. Not that she is surprised. The sun has started to rise, and he hardly sleeps very long. The fact he was able to sleep more than a handful of hours is more than enough for her. They might be one step closer for him to sleep through the night now. Still, that is something to face once the sun sets again. They have the day ahead of them. A busy day.
If she could pull herself out of the churning feelings going on inside her.
She knows what are her feelings and what belong to the other version of her. It's a subtle difference, but the difference is there nonetheless. Context and circumstances matter. What makes it difficult to separate the sets of emotions is that they are so similar to one another. The source may be different, but the emotion is near the same.
« It hurt her more. Didn't it? I know it did. I can feel it. I just wish I knew why I did. Is it you? »
Polaris doesn't answer her query. Instead, she shifts to pull her amplifier's attention from her thoughts. Alan is not only awake but has joined them. Probably for a few minutes now.
Jesse raises her eyes from the keychain in her hands to find his light gray ones looking back at her. She can see the concern in his face and the unasked questions as to why she is awake, how long, why she woke up. Everyone of those questions feels like a mountain to climb in order to answer. There are so many elements to them, and words are already far from her strong suit when it comes to describing what goes on inside her mind.
Her expression softens. A sad smile touches her face, but still she hopes the gaze communicates what she means to say: Hi, Alan.
When he reaches out to touch her, Jesse responds in turn. It feels like a monumental effort to pull her hand away from the keychain in order to place hers over his. A squeeze. Then, a low exhale and sharp inhale. Trying to put all her emotions back in the boxes and behind the walls so she can at least hold a conversation.
A glance to the side.
« What should I say? What do I tell him? It's going to sound... crazy. Weirder than even our not-normal. He won't doubt it. Not after everything we've been through. Still... how do you even begin to talk about something like this? »
She sighs and looks back at Alan.
« Here goes nothing. » ]
I know you don't remember a lot over the last thirteen years. That's fine, by the way. [ Her hand tightens around his. ] But, when you first went to Bright Falls, and everything that happened with your encounter with the Dark Presence. Were you ever in a room with lights hanging everywhere? With a shoebox that had a manuscript page?
[ Even if it was disturbed by the power going out, looking back on those handful of hours of sleep that he was able to get, Alan knows it's easily the most restful sleep he's had in who knows how long. It wasn't deep sleep by any means, and he still felt just the slightest bit unsettled in the darkness, but he managed to rest, and that's something of an achievement, at least for him.
But that's not the focus of his thoughts. No, his focus is on Jesse and on finding out what she needs. She wouldn't have woken up for no reason, so something must have happened, and he wants to find out what.
He's worried about her, to the point that even if he wanted to stay in bed and keep on sleeping, he knows he wouldn't be able to. He just wants to make sure that she's all right, and that she's happy and feels loved and cared for. Now that he's in more of a position to do that, he knows he'd run himself ragged trying to achieve that, and more. Of course, that's not what she'd want, but he knows full well that there's nothing he wouldn't do for her.
He notes the keychain that she's holding, and he wonders if nightmares about the loops and all the times they had to say goodbye are what woke her. He doesn't have to be a perceptive writer to know that she didn't take well to being left behind.
He smiles a small smile when she places her hand over his and gives it a squeeze. Her touch always does something to him. It helps ground him, and it makes him feel safe and loved. Does he help her feel that way at all, or does he just constantly make her feel like she has to always worry about him? ]
Before... before I answer that, I just have to ask: are you okay? How long have you been awake?
[ He already has an answer to her question, somehow. The memories of the last thirteen years are sketchy at best, and he barely remembers things that happened at the beginning of those thirteen years, but some things still stick out in his memory. He wishes that he could remember all of it, but he's already decided that it's best if he just takes what he can get. ]
I didn't wake you up again, did I? I can't keep being the reason you don't get to sleep as much as you need.
[ Lines form on his forehead betraying his concern for her, but he can't help it. She deserves better, even though he knows better than to say that out loud again, because she'll just pin him with a look at tell him to stop. Even so, he still believes that she deserves better than what he's given her so far. That's become a key motivation in his desire to be better. ]
[ Jesse's head tilts slightly at his questions. They're fair. She can't say she's angry or even annoyed that he has asked them. They would be his concerns. Even more so after she insisted so much that he sleep.
His other hand rests on her knee. Her skin is cold to the touch. Not ice cold or freezing. The temperature is noticeable to show it's been some time since she left the warm covers. Her fingers brush the back of the hand she holds. ]
The sun wasn't up yet. [ Jesse knows that it isn't an exact answer. Hopefully he'll realize she means she simply isn't sure how long it's been. ] I'm.... peachy.
[ « But SHE isn't. »
A slight shake of her head. ] No. It wasn't you. Promise.
[ He watches her closely, watching her reactions, looking for anything that might tell him how she really is. This is how they communicate with each other: he relies on words and she communicates with looks and actions. Maybe it's unusual, or maybe it's just a side effect of him being a writer. He doesn't want to say that it's also because of being in a place that messed with his mind and caused him to develop habits like narrating out loud to himself, but not saying it won't make it not true.
A frown forms and deepens as he realizes how cold she is. That tells him that she has been sitting here for a long time, and he feels a stab of guilt for having continued sleeping while she was awake and unable to sleep herself. He'd go back to the bed and get a blanket for her if he could do so without dislodging her hold on his hand, so he settles for scooting a little closer as if asking if she wants to be held while they sit on the window seat. It would take a little shuffling around, but he's willing to do it. ]
Peachy, but something woke you up. Something, or someone.
[ He already has a guess, thanks to the strange rush of feelings that he had while he slept, but maybe his guess is way off the mark. ]
Do you think you could go back to sleep now? [ Maybe I could help her relax so she can get some more sleep. ]
Someones. [ Jesse gently corrects the statement. Her tone is soft, but not quite the vulnerable state that he may be used to. The tone is far more contemplative. Inward.
Green eyes travel upwards. Her head tilts backwards. It would be easier to explain it all with an answer of her question. She could use it as a way to ease into everything. She isn't sure where to even start.
Someones? [ Maybe his theory about what he felt while he slept isn't so far off the mark after all, but he figures he should wait for Jesse to confirm either way.
He keeps watching her, knowing that his scrutiny could make her uncomfortable, but he thinks there's a difference between staring at someone and just... observing. ]
... Okay.
[ He notes her frown, and that shimmer, and not for the first time, he thinks about how pretty her eyes are. But he can't get distracted right now; it's very easy for him to lose focus, as his mind goes wandering, but she asked him a question, and he has to answer it. He wants to answer it, because he knows how to do so. ]
You asked if I remember the first time I came to Bright Falls, and a room with hanging lights. I- it's faint, but I remember it. I can still picture it, somehow. It was... I think it was a safe zone, sort of. Someone was watching over it, making sure the lights stayed on. What was it called? [ Frown lines on his forehead appear as he tries to find the memory in a sea of them. ] The... Lit Up Room? No, that's not it.
[ He tries harder to come up with the actual name of the room that he's picturing, but the memory seems hard to grasp. ]
I don't remember the name of it, but I know what you mean. I've been there. I remember seeing it.
[ Her fingers continue brush along the back of his hand. Something soothing for both of them she hopes. Although, it's probably just her that needs the reassurance. The touch helps ground her when it seems her emotions are running and she can't control them. ]
It had a manuscript page. Something that looked like the Clicker. [ Her eyes narrow slightly in thought. ] You must have gone there to get those things.
[ Jesse pauses. Her hand stills on his. ] At least, that's why he went there.
[ « Maybe it will help him remember something. Could that be why I picked up on this? Other than the fact that I'm--we're resonating with her. It can't be as simple as that. » ]
[ He'd pull her in for a hug if he thought that's what she needed. If holding his hand helps, then he has no intention of pulling away. Not that he ever has any intention of ever breaking contact between them. They both seem to need the reassurance for different reasons. ]
A manuscript page and the Clicker. [ An image flares to life in his mind, but it's not the scene from the Well-Lit Room. He's in a cell, and Saga's there, and he's asking her for the Clicker... and then everything jolts and he's no longer himself. He just barely manages to suppress a flinch reaction, because Jesse doesn't need to know what memory just resurfaced. Hopefully nothing showed in his gaze, but he knows he's not usually that lucky. ]
It was a room with lights hanging everywhere. Lights... Why does that sound so familiar?
[ He pauses for a moment as he continues searching for that elusive memory, willing it to come back to him. Maybe this time, he'll get lucky. ]
Lights, the Clicker, a manuscript page... I can get to her now. I can finish this.
I think I found the pieces I needed, to end the story. To save... [ He hesitates, because he knows how Jesse feels whenever he mentions Alice. She doesn't even have to say anything, but he can see the look in her eyes and the change in her posture. It's not fair to her to keep bringing her up, so he just trails off rather than complete that sentence. ]
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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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If she could pull herself out of the churning feelings going on inside her.
She knows what are her feelings and what belong to the other version of her. It's a subtle difference, but the difference is there nonetheless. Context and circumstances matter. What makes it difficult to separate the sets of emotions is that they are so similar to one another. The source may be different, but the emotion is near the same.
« It hurt her more. Didn't it? I know it did. I can feel it. I just wish I knew why I did. Is it you? »
Polaris doesn't answer her query. Instead, she shifts to pull her amplifier's attention from her thoughts. Alan is not only awake but has joined them. Probably for a few minutes now.
Jesse raises her eyes from the keychain in her hands to find his light gray ones looking back at her. She can see the concern in his face and the unasked questions as to why she is awake, how long, why she woke up. Everyone of those questions feels like a mountain to climb in order to answer. There are so many elements to them, and words are already far from her strong suit when it comes to describing what goes on inside her mind.
Her expression softens. A sad smile touches her face, but still she hopes the gaze communicates what she means to say: Hi, Alan.
When he reaches out to touch her, Jesse responds in turn. It feels like a monumental effort to pull her hand away from the keychain in order to place hers over his. A squeeze. Then, a low exhale and sharp inhale. Trying to put all her emotions back in the boxes and behind the walls so she can at least hold a conversation.
A glance to the side.
« What should I say? What do I tell him? It's going to sound... crazy. Weirder than even our not-normal. He won't doubt it. Not after everything we've been through. Still... how do you even begin to talk about something like this? »
She sighs and looks back at Alan.
« Here goes nothing. » ]
I know you don't remember a lot over the last thirteen years. That's fine, by the way. [ Her hand tightens around his. ] But, when you first went to Bright Falls, and everything that happened with your encounter with the Dark Presence. Were you ever in a room with lights hanging everywhere? With a shoebox that had a manuscript page?
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But that's not the focus of his thoughts. No, his focus is on Jesse and on finding out what she needs. She wouldn't have woken up for no reason, so something must have happened, and he wants to find out what.
He's worried about her, to the point that even if he wanted to stay in bed and keep on sleeping, he knows he wouldn't be able to. He just wants to make sure that she's all right, and that she's happy and feels loved and cared for. Now that he's in more of a position to do that, he knows he'd run himself ragged trying to achieve that, and more. Of course, that's not what she'd want, but he knows full well that there's nothing he wouldn't do for her.
He notes the keychain that she's holding, and he wonders if nightmares about the loops and all the times they had to say goodbye are what woke her. He doesn't have to be a perceptive writer to know that she didn't take well to being left behind.
He smiles a small smile when she places her hand over his and gives it a squeeze. Her touch always does something to him. It helps ground him, and it makes him feel safe and loved. Does he help her feel that way at all, or does he just constantly make her feel like she has to always worry about him? ]
Before... before I answer that, I just have to ask: are you okay? How long have you been awake?
[ He already has an answer to her question, somehow. The memories of the last thirteen years are sketchy at best, and he barely remembers things that happened at the beginning of those thirteen years, but some things still stick out in his memory. He wishes that he could remember all of it, but he's already decided that it's best if he just takes what he can get. ]
I didn't wake you up again, did I? I can't keep being the reason you don't get to sleep as much as you need.
[ Lines form on his forehead betraying his concern for her, but he can't help it. She deserves better, even though he knows better than to say that out loud again, because she'll just pin him with a look at tell him to stop. Even so, he still believes that she deserves better than what he's given her so far. That's become a key motivation in his desire to be better. ]
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His other hand rests on her knee. Her skin is cold to the touch. Not ice cold or freezing. The temperature is noticeable to show it's been some time since she left the warm covers. Her fingers brush the back of the hand she holds. ]
The sun wasn't up yet. [ Jesse knows that it isn't an exact answer. Hopefully he'll realize she means she simply isn't sure how long it's been. ] I'm.... peachy.
[ « But SHE isn't. »
A slight shake of her head. ] No. It wasn't you. Promise.
[ Just another version of him. ]
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A frown forms and deepens as he realizes how cold she is. That tells him that she has been sitting here for a long time, and he feels a stab of guilt for having continued sleeping while she was awake and unable to sleep herself. He'd go back to the bed and get a blanket for her if he could do so without dislodging her hold on his hand, so he settles for scooting a little closer as if asking if she wants to be held while they sit on the window seat. It would take a little shuffling around, but he's willing to do it. ]
Peachy, but something woke you up. Something, or someone.
[ He already has a guess, thanks to the strange rush of feelings that he had while he slept, but maybe his guess is way off the mark. ]
Do you think you could go back to sleep now? [ Maybe I could help her relax so she can get some more sleep. ]
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Green eyes travel upwards. Her head tilts backwards. It would be easier to explain it all with an answer of her question. She could use it as a way to ease into everything. She isn't sure where to even start.
She frowns. A shimmer of light in her eyes. ]
No. I don't think... not yet.
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He keeps watching her, knowing that his scrutiny could make her uncomfortable, but he thinks there's a difference between staring at someone and just... observing. ]
... Okay.
[ He notes her frown, and that shimmer, and not for the first time, he thinks about how pretty her eyes are. But he can't get distracted right now; it's very easy for him to lose focus, as his mind goes wandering, but she asked him a question, and he has to answer it. He wants to answer it, because he knows how to do so. ]
You asked if I remember the first time I came to Bright Falls, and a room with hanging lights. I- it's faint, but I remember it. I can still picture it, somehow. It was... I think it was a safe zone, sort of. Someone was watching over it, making sure the lights stayed on. What was it called? [ Frown lines on his forehead appear as he tries to find the memory in a sea of them. ] The... Lit Up Room? No, that's not it.
[ He tries harder to come up with the actual name of the room that he's picturing, but the memory seems hard to grasp. ]
I don't remember the name of it, but I know what you mean. I've been there. I remember seeing it.
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It had a manuscript page. Something that looked like the Clicker. [ Her eyes narrow slightly in thought. ] You must have gone there to get those things.
[ Jesse pauses. Her hand stills on his. ] At least, that's why he went there.
[ « Maybe it will help him remember something. Could that be why I picked up on this? Other than the fact that I'm--we're resonating with her. It can't be as simple as that. » ]
What happened when you were there?
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A manuscript page and the Clicker. [ An image flares to life in his mind, but it's not the scene from the Well-Lit Room. He's in a cell, and Saga's there, and he's asking her for the Clicker... and then everything jolts and he's no longer himself. He just barely manages to suppress a flinch reaction, because Jesse doesn't need to know what memory just resurfaced. Hopefully nothing showed in his gaze, but he knows he's not usually that lucky. ]
It was a room with lights hanging everywhere. Lights... Why does that sound so familiar?
[ He pauses for a moment as he continues searching for that elusive memory, willing it to come back to him. Maybe this time, he'll get lucky. ]
Lights, the Clicker, a manuscript page... I can get to her now. I can finish this.
I think I found the pieces I needed, to end the story. To save... [ He hesitates, because he knows how Jesse feels whenever he mentions Alice. She doesn't even have to say anything, but he can see the look in her eyes and the change in her posture. It's not fair to her to keep bringing her up, so he just trails off rather than complete that sentence. ]
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