Chapter Text
Clear glass. Grey walls. A plastic, yellow chair set in front of the glass. A desk on either side of the little alcove. Stacks of paper and office equipment. A camera on a tricorder. Old computers. At least, they looked old. Big and boxy. Alex Casey hadn’t worked on one of those for nearly fifteen years. It was always the same. Every time he woke. The only difference was if someone was on the other side of the class, and just who that someone was. His eyes traveled to the person standing in front of him now. To the left of the yellow chair. She smiled. The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“How are you enjoying the accommodations?” asked Kiran Estevez.
“Peachy. Could do with some color though. And that’s coming from a man who almost exclusively wears all black and white.”
Kiran snorted. “The Research Sector’s pretty nice. There’s a lot of plants there.”
“Those plants ever eat anyone? Look like giant venus fly traps and like to sing “Feed Me”?”
She blinked in slight amazement. “You’ve seen Little Shop of Horrors ?”
“Everyone always seems surprised by that fact.”
“You just don’t strike me as a musical guy.”
“I’m not. Fucking hate them. But the ex-wife loved that movie so…you know.”
Another snort. A little kinder. If a snort could be considered kind. “Well, maybe I’ll look up the song. Sing it to them next time I’m up there.”
“You sing to the plants?”
“And compliment them. Works better than water.”
“Needy bunch, aren’t they?”
“Remind me to never take you to the Research Sector. Last thing we need is you getting into an argument with a fern.”
A huff of laughter left Alex Casey’s lips. It was funny. Pretending he might ever be allowed out of here. Kiran had spoken about the FBC’s director. Said she was sort of new but was doing things a bit differently. That it was probably lucky it was this new person and not the former director. He would have already been taking Alex’s condition apart piece by piece. Apparently this new director wanted to do things a bit differently, but even so, there were protocols in place for a reason.
Alex didn’t hold out much hope for his future. Regardless of who the director was.
Kiran seemed to realize she’d said the wrong thing. She changed the subject. “How’s the pain today?”
“Barely noticeable.”
“Which means it’s pretty bad. Huh?”
“You already reading me that well?”
“You’re a tough nut. I can relate,” sighed Kiran. Her eyes roamed over him. “I’d offer you coffee, but we both know it’s barely passable here. Anything else I can get you?”
“Whiskey?”
“We’ve got an altered item just three floors below. Whiskey glass that never empties.”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
“Joking. Alcohol is strictly prohibited unless directly tied to a sanctioned project. What about food? Your scheduled meal time is coming up. I can see about getting you something different.”
Alex’s eyes flitted away. It was honestly nice of her. Just not something he needed. He wanted the pain to stop, only nothing had stopped it. The pain in his side continued despite there not being a single scratch on him. It ebbed and flowed like the ocean it had originated from. Never completely gone. Some days were worse than others. Nothing the FBC had done so far had helped. Kiran couldn’t get him anything to help.
The next thing Alex would have really wanted were answers. Kiran had already shown she couldn’t give him that either. Not until everything got approved from the higher ups. Which apparently a lot were dead and missing. Bright Falls hadn’t been the only one to experience a serious event and the FBC was in chaos.
Kiran couldn’t get him anything he actually needed or wanted. But if she was offering food…
“Breakfast.”
“Any specific requests?”
“Two eggs, sunny-side up and toast with butter.”
“That your go-to choice on the road?”
“Something like that.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Kiran left. Alex didn’t see her again, but when his meal came-he didn’t even fucking know what time of day it was-he got the usual protein slop of the FBC and one scrambled egg. Well, at least it was something different for a change.
Alex didn’t know where they were keeping Wake. He hadn’t seen the inside of the Containment Sector. The Panopticon. Or at least he couldn’t remember seeing it. He’d just been inside one day. Wherever Wake was though, Alex could hear him on most days. Distant but there. At least, it was sometimes Wake. Sometimes it sounded more like Scratch. Alex had yelled back, but despite hearing Wake and the thing inside him, it never seemed like they could hear him.
The cell couldn’t be far, but Alex couldn’t see anything with his limited view.
Every time the dark presence screamed, Alex felt the pain in his side flair up again. He hadn’t been shot there, but he’d gotten shot on a case years ago. It felt like that. Deep. Violating. Sometimes he’d pull up his shirt and look. Half expecting…something to be there. But nothing ever was.
I’m sorry, Casey. I’m so fucking sorry.
He grimaced at hearing Alan’s voice. He never should have trusted the man. And yet at the same time, it wasn’t wholly Alan’s fault. Wake hadn’t known. He couldn’t have known. Just like how Alex no longer knew what had burrowed its way inside him. What refused to leave. Refused to heal.
“Just shut up, god damn it,” Alex hissed. “Please, just shut the fuck up.”
As usual, there was no sign that Alan heard him. The overbearing, distorted, angry screams of Scratch followed not long after.
Alex Casey was scared. He tried not to be, but he was. Sarcasm came easy as he attempted to hide the fear, but it didn’t work. Anger replaced it instead. Not around Kiran. She didn’t deserve it. She at least still treated him like a person. He could at least see the guilt in her eyes. But around the others? The ones who didn’t bother to introduce themselves? That looked at him like he was a thing? He didn’t want to be seen as afraid in front of them. It would only make him feel like even less of a person. He couldn’t handle that.
Only every time he got angry, it made them more afraid of him. And their fear of him made him more afraid of himself. Which in turn only led to him hiding his own fear behind anger again. Which created more fear turning into his own fear and so on and so forth–
It was a horrific cycle. A fucking loop. No. A spiral. Building on top of already present dread. The pain in his side flared with the fear. Grew worse. Made him more afraid. Made him lash out more. Made others more afraid.
The subject.
It.
Test.
Altered fucking item.
Again and again and again–
It got to be too fucking much. So fucking much in fact that one day the faces of the scientists looking at him started to blur. Their features broke apart into long tendrils of smoke. The environment went with them. Right until it started to build it back into place. Only the faces were different. The setting different. It warped into something new. An office now. Largely red and warm rather than grey and cold. A woman with red hair stood up in a flash. A gun that moved like a gust of wind rested in her hand.
Alex didn’t care though. Hell, he wouldn’t have cared if she’d fucking shot him in that moment.
The pain was worse than he could have ever imagined. He took a knee. His own fear building to impossible heights. Adding fuel to the fire that flared in his side. But it was a pain he was now happy for. An ending he would have accepted if the woman with red hair decided to pull the trigger.
Because between him and the gun was another person. His partner.
She was alive. She’d made it out.
She was fucking alive.
He could die now knowing she was ok.
“Anderson…” His voice cracked from the pain. The emotion. He couldn’t show her how afraid he was. He couldn’t!
He was so tired of trying to hide it.
“Casey!”
No fear. No hesitation. She grabbed the grey clothes he’d been put in. Fell to her knees and hugged him so hard he felt he might fall apart. Alarms were blaring. A red light started to flash in the office. Alex closed his eyes against it. Pressed his face into the crook of Anderson’s shoulder. The car had always smelled like pine when driving with her. He could smell it again. Familiar, light perfume. His eyes scrunched. He tried not to cry.
A door slammed open. “Jesse!”
“Stand down! It’s ok, Simon.” Alex risked opening his eyes. The woman with red hair-Jesse-had dropped her gun. The pieces were fit snug together again. No longer moving in abnormal patterns.
“You sure?”
“So that’s where the hell the item went.” A new voice. Annoyed. Huffy. Sounding like one of the paper pushers Alex had dealt with at the FBI.
“Langston,” Jesse dryly said.
“What? We’re still trying to find a term that fits. He’s not a parautiltarian. Or if he is, he’s the weakest one we’ve encountered. Neither does the term altered item technically fit. Or we need to redefine it to make it work. We may need–”
Alex squeezed his eyes shut again. Gripped Anderson harder. Going by Jesse’s next words, it felt like she noticed.
“All of which I’m sure is very important to understand and categorize and which I’m sure you don’t need me for.”
Langston sounded huffy as he retorted, “Right. Well? Go on Arish.”
“Actually, Simon. If that could wait until later. I’d like to finish my meeting first.”
Langston’s voice came out again. “You can’t be serious–”
“I’ll call if I need backup. Besides. I have Saga here with me.”
“This is completely against protocol! And she’s not even FBC!”
There was silence for a second before Langston’s voice came back in annoyed acceptance.
“Fine. But I won’t be blamed if we suddenly find ourselves in need of another director.”
“I’m head of security.” It was Simon’s voice. “If anyone is gonna get blamed for this, it’s gonna be me. But let’s be real. If anything happens, Jesse will have it handled before we can even get back here.”
Langston grumbled something back. Alex heard doors closing. The alarms turned off. When he opened his eyes again, the red lights had stopped too.
“Sorry about all that. They’re a jumpy bunch and pretty set in their ways.”
Anderson responded. “Understandable after what you’ve told me about the Hiss.”
Alex could feel her easing up. He didn’t want to let go. He forced himself to. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d felt human contact, but he tried to hide how painful it was to be letting it go now. Almost as painful as the feeling in his side as it started to grow dull but didn’t fully disappear.
Anderson offered a hand. He took it. Pulled himself to his feet. He finally looked at the woman properly. The director. She seemed far too young to be the head of an entire bureau, but considering nothing was what it seemed anymore, Alex wasn’t really surprised.
“Alex Casey, Saga’s told me a lot about you. It’s good to finally meet you.” She holstered her weapon-though there wasn’t an actual holster it rested in. She offered her hand. It felt like a foreign action in a place like this. He slowly took it across the desk. He shook it. He half expected something to happen. If not externally, then maybe something internally. A sign that something might be wrong. The physical pain flaring up again. But it didn’t. It continued to ease off. Not gone, but no longer at the front of his mind.
“Kiran-Agent Estevez said you were new.”
“Something like that. I’ve only been here a few months. But I've been director since 2019.”
Alex frowned. “But that…that was four years ago.”
“It’s something I’m still trying to wrap my brain around too,” Anderson replied. “As is Jesse.”
“Half of our agents are in 2023. The ones who were here during the Hiss attack in 2019 are still in 2019. It seems only inside the Oldest House are we able to properly interact. We have people working on it right now. Seeing if there’s a risk of time growing unstable or if everything will naturally smooth out.”
A question cropped up in Alex’s mind. This was all so fucking confusing. “Were you the director between 2019 and 2023? For the ones on the outside?”
“Funny thing is, they can’t remember who the director was. If it was me or Trench. Like I said. There’s people looking into it. Coffee?”
“Sure,” Alex slowly said.
Jesse gestured at the chairs in front of the desk. Alex slowly sat. It wasn’t very comfortable. As Jesse poured, Alex looked to Anderson again. Really looked at her. Breathing. Alive. “Is Logan ok? Is David?”
Her hand covered her mouth. She gripped his hand. “You remember?”
“Remember…of course I remember. What are you talking about?”
“The story it…it tried to take Logan. It said she died in Watery. You thought she was dead too.”
Alex frowned. “No. No I’d never…” He trailed off. Covered his face with his hands. Had he thought her dead? No. Not Logan. Not the kid. He wouldn’t…he never would have… “How long have I been here?”
Jesse set a cup in front of him. “I think it’s better if I understand how long you think you’ve been here.”
His hands fell. “What?”
“Like I said. The time distortions are all over the place at the moment. How long have you been here?”
“A…week? Maybe? I haven't been able to count the time. Just the tests they've run.”
Anderson turned on Jesse. “You said he wouldn’t become a lab rat! That he wouldn’t get tested on!”
Jesse winced. “I’m sorry. I am.”
“It wasn’t…wasn’t anything invasive, Anderson–”
“That doesn’t matter.” Her eyes turned back to Jesse. “You said he’d be ok.”
“The FBC has a habit of trying to understand things at the detriment of those involved. It’s not perfect.”
“I experienced that firsthand,” sighed Anderson. “With a Dr. Campbell.” Alex wasn’t sure what she was talking about. He couldn’t remember her mentioning that name. He took the cup of coffee in front of him. It tasted as bad as the cup Kiran had given him a few days ago, but the warmth felt nice on his hands.
Jesse nodded. “I saw the report. Would have liked to meet him,” she sighed. “He might have been able to help Emily. She’s our head of research. One of only a handful of people left. The only one besides the agents out in the field that have been slowly finding their way back. She’s still shifting through what the Hiss left behind.”
Alex spoke up. “And the Hiss are…”
“We don’t fully know.”
“Something tells me that’s gonna be your response to most of my questions,” Alex dryly said.
The woman’s lips twitched. A slight attempt at a smile. She felt bad about this. That much was obvious. Like she knew what he was going through. He didn’t know how she could possibly relate. He held his tongue.
“You don’t know how you got here. Do you? From the containment cell to here?”
“I…” He shook his head.
“Well, considering containment didn’t do anything, we should probably go see Emily.”
“What? So he can just be put back into a better cell?” asked Anderson. “No. Not happening.”
“I don’t have any intention of letting that happen. Not unless he poses a threat. Which, despite not knowing how he got here, I haven’t seen any sense of that.”
“And what if it’s a trick?” whispered Alex. He set the cup of coffee back down. “What if I'm playing docile to get to know your facility better? Your people?”
Anderson put a comforting hand on him. Jesse frowned but didn’t look overly worried. “And do you think it’s a trick?”
“No. But then neither did Alan Wake. And look how we all fucking ended up here. If I got out, you’re not afraid that Wake won’t get out too?”
“You mean from the Dark Place?”
“I mean fucking here. I hear it all the time. Him. Scratch. Fucking screaming in my ear.” Alex rubbed his eyes. “Makes it damn hard to sleep at night. Or...or whatever time I sleep.” And that was without mentioning the lights that were never shut off. When only silence followed, he looked up. His gaze passed between Anderson and Jesse. He watched as something unspoken moved between them. Anderson looked to him.
“Wake isn’t here.”
“What the hell do you mean Wake isn't here? No. I…I’ve fucking heard him…”
He trailed off. Jesse reached for her ear. “Emily, I need you to come up to my office.”
Emily must have said something back because it looked like Jesse was listening. Alex’s eyes turned back to Anderson.
“Casey, I don’t know…Wake has never been here. What…what can you remember?”
Alex tried. God, he did. He remembered getting to Bright Falls. Remembered Nightingale. Remembered Nightingale returning. Remembered finding Wake on the beach. Taking him to the lodge. The cult. The attack. The darkness. The FBC. Scratch at the sheriff’s station. And then…
Pain flared in his side.
He remembered talking to Kiran. Being in the cell. Knowing that he hadn't had much of a choice but that he'd agreed to their talk of containment. Safer for everyone that way.
But what had happened in between?
It was excruciating. Red hot like his own insides were spilling out.
He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t fucking remember. How the hell had he been here a week and only now couldn’t fucking remember how he got here?
C̶̼̟͐̕͜Ä̷̢̛̰̪͔͔͈̮̮̹̻̠̳̫̪͓̔̈́͒̌͌̐̔́̇S̴̹̫̥͚̟̜̅̓̆͗͒̄̿̑̕Ȅ̵̡̨͈̬̼̺̝̪̙̜͖͕͖̮͚̟̺͋͝Ý̸̨̧̰̗̼͙̫̜̣̯͚̺̱͎͖̈́̍̋̃̀̒̉̓͊!̸̢̢̫̠̝͙͕̳͙̬͊͐̅̀́͜ ̵͔̼̥͎̲̯̥̹̖̰̲͈̩̭͠Ȃ̴̡̛͕̘͓̠͎̼̖̞͓̼̱͚͎͙̦̫͋̊͋̀̃͐́̃̍̈́̈́̌̃̈́̓͝L̸̺͖̝̉̉͒́͝É̶̜̗̖̩̼̪̣͎̥͉̦̀͆̄̒̃͊̈́̆̌̍̾̍͝͝X̴̛͖́͂̉͛͋̆̽̋͆͐͝͠ ̶̭̥̞̳̫̗̘̋́̿̓̑̅͋́̉͌̾͝͝Ç̸̭͇̳̱̗̝̼̥̮̯͖̃̅A̷̧̢̟͉̙̝͎̠̞̫̜̣̗̮͚̪̫̳͚͕͐̍͆̄̽̅͊͑̑̓̕S̷̟̬̦͕̲̐͌̆̓́̈́̔͊͌͘͠͝E̵͎͍̘̤̟̰̳̥̱̹̘̖͙̝͌͝Ỳ̴̧̦͈̞̝̪͇̙̯̂͒̐̀̏̀͆̑̇͛̓̄̃̚̚!̶̡͚̹̪̗̫͇͙̱̖̩̙͍͖̫̰̅̂͆̉̈́͝ͅ
It was Scratch this time, not Wake screaming in his ear. Distant but there. Like he was two offices over. Had followed him from the Containment Sector. Only he wasn’t here at all. Anderson had said he wasn’t. The director had looked at him like he might have lost his mind.
Maybe he had.
C̶̼̟͐̕͜Ä̷̢̛̰̪͔͔͈̮̮̹̻̠̳̫̪͓̔̈́͒̌͌̐̔́̇S̴̹̫̥͚̟̜̅̓̆͗͒̄̿̑̕Ȅ̵̡̨͈̬̼̺̝̪̙̜͖͕͖̮͚̟̺͋͝Ý̸̨̧̰̗̼͙̫̜̣̯͚̺̱͎͖̈́̍̋̃̀̒̉̓͊!̸̢̢̫̠̝͙͕̳͙̬͊͐̅̀́͜ ̵͔̼̥͎̲̯̥̹̖̰̲͈̩̭͠
He squeezed his eyes shut. The pain in his side continued to fester. To ebb and flow like a fucking ocean. He held onto the feeling of his partner at his side. Grounded himself as best he could. When he opened his eyes again, Anderson looked at him like she understood exactly what was happening inside his head. The only problem was, it seemed to be confusing her as much as it was confusing him.