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esp_dragonv2Fandom: Alan Wake
Summary: Alan was free from Cauldron Lake, but something doesn't feel right...
Note: Set early-midgame.
Rating: G
Genre: General
Word count: 814
Status: Complete
The sun hurt Alan's eyes. Everything was so loud, the crash of waves around him, the birds in the air. The mud clung to him, sticky. Different from the Dark Presence's touch that flowed over him like smoke.
He was free. He had to be. No Writer's Room around him.
Sun warming his skin, already drying the lake water and mud.
He could hear the person talking to him, but it was like the words were pushing his brain out through his other ear and he couldn't concentrate, the world too bright, too loud, everything vying for his attention.
But he was free.
* * *
Thirteen years. That was how long he'd been gone.
It felt true. That he'd been there for so long, but also too short. Only thirteen years?
He'd spent thirteen years writing?
He couldn't remember writing for that long, but there were gaps in his memory, the Dark Presence stealing them from him and eventually the minutes and hours melded together, his mind focused on writing, on escaping.
Alan turned his head, Cauldron Lake reflecting the setting sun's rays.
"Are you cold?"
He looked back to see Saga watching him from the rear-view mirror. They'd given him a jacket to try and soak up all the water and so he wouldn't drip all over the car, but when he looked down, his hands were clutching his arms, nails digging into the fabric.
Huh. "No." He paused. "I don't think so." He'd spent so long in the Dark Place he didn't know what he was feeling right now. Sitting in a chair he was more than used to, but not the steady rumble and shaking of a car around him.
His skin seemed...itchy. Irritated. As each second passed, the feeling grew, his hands moving to scratch without thinking.
After all this time, it would just be his skin getting used to the feel of touch again. He'd always worn the same clothes in the Dark Place. An extra layer was just a different feeling.
* * *
Alan inhaled deeply, smelling the coffee in front of him, wrapping his hand around the white mug.
Warm. This was what warmth felt like. Not stiff or his muscles had locked up enough to notice even though he hadn't realised why.
He used to drink his coffee as soon as it was made, he remembered that much, needing the kick of caffeine as soon as he could.
The coffee touched his tongue and he jerked the coffee away from his lips, liquid sloshing.
"Hey!" Casey (not his Casey, but Alan wasn't really sure since he'd spent so long imagining Casey both in the real world and the Dark Place that maybe he had-?) snapped, scowling. "Did you forget how to drink?"
Alan had burned his tongue, he knew that much, which was why he didn't answer right away, but that wasn't why he'd reacted so strongly. He hadn't tasted coffee - it was like a sludge that coated his tongue, making everything it touched tingle.
Was he just remembering how to drink again after years of never needing it? The Dark Presence had sustained him, kept him alive all this time and now he had to relearn everything. Including taste.
It had been thirteen years since he'd last drank anything (he was pretty sure all he'd had in his last two weeks in Bright Falls was just coffee) - the brands and tastes would have changed since then.
This wasn't even filter coffee.
"Casey," Saga warned, and Casey turned away with a grumble.
Alan stared at his coffee again, seeing his face reflected back at him.
Tor and Odin's infamous moonshine's secret ingredient had been the water from Cauldron Lake. That was what had made it so potent.
Was that what he was tasting now? Was that where Bright Falls' water sourced from? He'd seen the multiple fences around the lake as they passed, but that didn't mean the pipes had also been blocked off.
There was a plate of food next to him that he hadn't noticed being set down.
It smelled wonderful.
Except...
Alan didn't feel hungry either. He couldn't remember what hunger felt like, but he had no other reaction to the food.
Unease was growing in his stomach though. His skin was still itchy, worse than before even though he hadn't worn the jacket since he'd got out the car. It seemed stronger on his right, like he was somewhere he wasn't meant to be. Like he should be somewhere else.
He didn't have to look out the window to know where Cauldron Lake was.
The itch had grown further he got from the lake.
He still wasn't free. Not yet. Not completely. The story was still hurtling towards its conclusion.
There was still more work to do before they would reach the ending.
Only then would he be free.
I was expecting a more horrified reaction at the end, but I guess Alan doesn't think it's permanent so that's probably why, haha. Plus he's used to horror tropes by now.
Summary: Alan was free from Cauldron Lake, but something doesn't feel right...
Note: Set early-midgame.
Rating: G
Genre: General
Word count: 814
Status: Complete
The sun hurt Alan's eyes. Everything was so loud, the crash of waves around him, the birds in the air. The mud clung to him, sticky. Different from the Dark Presence's touch that flowed over him like smoke.
He was free. He had to be. No Writer's Room around him.
Sun warming his skin, already drying the lake water and mud.
He could hear the person talking to him, but it was like the words were pushing his brain out through his other ear and he couldn't concentrate, the world too bright, too loud, everything vying for his attention.
But he was free.
Thirteen years. That was how long he'd been gone.
It felt true. That he'd been there for so long, but also too short. Only thirteen years?
He'd spent thirteen years writing?
He couldn't remember writing for that long, but there were gaps in his memory, the Dark Presence stealing them from him and eventually the minutes and hours melded together, his mind focused on writing, on escaping.
Alan turned his head, Cauldron Lake reflecting the setting sun's rays.
"Are you cold?"
He looked back to see Saga watching him from the rear-view mirror. They'd given him a jacket to try and soak up all the water and so he wouldn't drip all over the car, but when he looked down, his hands were clutching his arms, nails digging into the fabric.
Huh. "No." He paused. "I don't think so." He'd spent so long in the Dark Place he didn't know what he was feeling right now. Sitting in a chair he was more than used to, but not the steady rumble and shaking of a car around him.
His skin seemed...itchy. Irritated. As each second passed, the feeling grew, his hands moving to scratch without thinking.
After all this time, it would just be his skin getting used to the feel of touch again. He'd always worn the same clothes in the Dark Place. An extra layer was just a different feeling.
Alan inhaled deeply, smelling the coffee in front of him, wrapping his hand around the white mug.
Warm. This was what warmth felt like. Not stiff or his muscles had locked up enough to notice even though he hadn't realised why.
He used to drink his coffee as soon as it was made, he remembered that much, needing the kick of caffeine as soon as he could.
The coffee touched his tongue and he jerked the coffee away from his lips, liquid sloshing.
"Hey!" Casey (not his Casey, but Alan wasn't really sure since he'd spent so long imagining Casey both in the real world and the Dark Place that maybe he had-?) snapped, scowling. "Did you forget how to drink?"
Alan had burned his tongue, he knew that much, which was why he didn't answer right away, but that wasn't why he'd reacted so strongly. He hadn't tasted coffee - it was like a sludge that coated his tongue, making everything it touched tingle.
Was he just remembering how to drink again after years of never needing it? The Dark Presence had sustained him, kept him alive all this time and now he had to relearn everything. Including taste.
It had been thirteen years since he'd last drank anything (he was pretty sure all he'd had in his last two weeks in Bright Falls was just coffee) - the brands and tastes would have changed since then.
This wasn't even filter coffee.
"Casey," Saga warned, and Casey turned away with a grumble.
Alan stared at his coffee again, seeing his face reflected back at him.
Tor and Odin's infamous moonshine's secret ingredient had been the water from Cauldron Lake. That was what had made it so potent.
Was that what he was tasting now? Was that where Bright Falls' water sourced from? He'd seen the multiple fences around the lake as they passed, but that didn't mean the pipes had also been blocked off.
There was a plate of food next to him that he hadn't noticed being set down.
It smelled wonderful.
Except...
Alan didn't feel hungry either. He couldn't remember what hunger felt like, but he had no other reaction to the food.
Unease was growing in his stomach though. His skin was still itchy, worse than before even though he hadn't worn the jacket since he'd got out the car. It seemed stronger on his right, like he was somewhere he wasn't meant to be. Like he should be somewhere else.
He didn't have to look out the window to know where Cauldron Lake was.
The itch had grown further he got from the lake.
He still wasn't free. Not yet. Not completely. The story was still hurtling towards its conclusion.
There was still more work to do before they would reach the ending.
Only then would he be free.
I was expecting a more horrified reaction at the end, but I guess Alan doesn't think it's permanent so that's probably why, haha. Plus he's used to horror tropes by now.