[ Alan keeps looking out the window, but he's not really seeing the trees anymore. He's trying desperately to make sense of this. To make sense of being back, being home, but feeling like something's missing. It's not like how he felt when he was missing that week thirteen years ago. It feels... worse.

He still doesn't turn around, because... well, he's scared. Scared that he's not himself anymore; scared that this feeling of something missing is going to be permanent. He'll never get back whatever it is that he's missing. I want it back. I want it back and I don't even know what it is. Why don't I know what it is?

He feels his thoughts start to slip away from him, spiraling off into something bordering on crazy. He starts to feel himself going crazy. That's what happened when Estevez tried to question him, isn't it? His hands curl into fists as that feeling of agitation washes over him again, until...

What?

Something brushes against him. It's almost like a hand on the back of his neck, but nothing's there. A sound's there. Can a sound be like a touch?

He still doesn't turn around, but he turns his head to look at the person in the room with him. ]

You know who I am? I mean- yeah, of course you do, a lot of people know who I am, but I thought... I thought people would be glad to forget about me.