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Wake has been blessedly quiet as Casey helps him through the woods and back to the car. He’s in shock, Casey is sure, but Casey doesn’t feel particularly motivated to do anything about that. What could he do here anyway, in the forest? There’s a blanket in the car. He’ll make sure Wake gets it, he’s not a complete monster, even if he’s not Wake’s biggest fan (and even that is a fucking understatement, the writer ruined his life.) Wake is still shaky on his feet, and Casey offers a hand or an arm for Wake to lean on when he needs it.
Alan fucking Wake. He was the reason Casey wanted to take this case, otherwise the Bureau would have brought in a team from a closer field office. He never expected to meet the man himself. Wake was dead , not just legally, but how often does someone show up alive after being missing for more than a decade? Not often. Of course Wake had to be an outlier, that was just Casey’s luck…
Not that Casey wishes Wake was dead; since his divorce, his therapist has tried to help him to see the good in people, rather than just the bad. Saga and her family have probably made the most progress in restoring a little faith in the world. He can’t say the world is a better place without Alan Wake; he had a wife who loved him dearly, and friends and family who missed him. Fans, too, though Casey struggles to feel any sympathy for them.
And then there’s the cynical side of Casey that will never go away: they’ll get more answers out of Wake alive, and Casey is dying to know what really happened to Wake.
They’ve almost reached the car when Wake seems to come back to himself, snapped into awareness by the loud alarm and flashing lights now coming from the monitoring station.
“What is that?” Wake asks, stopping and gesturing to the building up above them through the trees. “That wasn’t here when I went in the lake.”
“Oh,” Casey grunts. “FBC.” He squints at the station, and he has a funny feeling it is not a coincidence that alarm started going off when Wake showed back up.
“FBC?”
“Federal Bureau of Control. They’re a secretive government agency, dealing with weird stuff.”
“Weird stuff like… me?”
Well, Wake said it, not him. Casey can feel Wake’s big, sad eyes on him, but Casey doesn’t look at him.
“Official story was volcanic gas, causing hallucinations and personality changes among the townspeople. That’s why they closed off the lake.”
“But that’s bullshit,” Wake says. “That’s not what happened!”
Casey’s mouth twitches, almost forming a smile. “I always thought so, and after all the inexplicable things we’ve seen today… Yeah.”
“Should you… Call them, or something?” Wake gestures to the station. “Since they’ve been involved.”
“What, you think Anderson and I can’t handle it?” Casey asks sharply. He watches Wake out of the corner of his eye, who seems to shrink. Hm, not the reaction Casey expected. Where’s that temper Wake is supposed to have?
“No, but—“
“The FBC doesn’t play nice with other agencies. I can’t stop them from getting involved if they show up, but we’re not going to hand our case over to them unless we have to.”
He’s afraid the FBC taking over might be inevitable, if someone actually comes to respond to this alarm, (and that’s a big if, considering the rumblings he’s heard about the current state of the organization), but he refuses to call them. Maybe he’s holding a grudge, but they knew something about what was going on with Wake, and if those fuckers hadn’t been so secretive, maybe he and Anderson would have been more prepared for this case. As they start walking up the hill again, Casey would love to poke his head inside the monitoring station, see what he can learn, but he’s got Wake to worry about. He’s sure Anderson will check it out on her way up.
“Anyway,” Casey continues, “You’re the one who put me and Anderson in your story, you must have had a reason.”
Wake doesn’t deny that it’s his story, and Casey smirks. Wake holds his head, like it’s hurting. “I… maybe, I don’t remember. I… It must have been me, but I don’t remember writing it.”
“Oh, it was you. I’ve read enough of your writing to recognize it when I see it.”
“You’ve read my books?” Wake sounds surprised.
Now, Casey does make eye contact. Wake has something horribly vulnerable on his face, like he cares about Casey’s opinion, and that makes Casey want to lash out.
“I had to make sure I didn’t have a stalker.”
Wake doesn’t rise to the bait, which is a shame, because Casey would rather hash this out while Anderson isn’t here. Instead, Wake just frowns.
“That’s something else I don’t understand,” he says. “How are you here?” How are you real , is implied behind his words. “You look like him, but… You’re not my Casey.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Casey grumbles, and Alan does the strangest thing he’s done since they found him at the lake: he laughs, hard, and for a good 20 seconds.
“Fuck, I needed that, thanks,” Wake says, wiping tears from his eyes. “I would not want my Alex Casey here either.”
“You really didn’t know I existed? All those years, writing those books, and you didn’t know?”
“No, I… It’s a common enough name, I never thought to check if there were any actual detectives that shared the name.” He huffs. “Hell of a coincidence.”
Casey knows it can’t be a coincidence, and he’s sure Wake knows it too. But in the face of the unknown, perhaps it’s safer for both of them to pretend it’s just a coincidence, so Casey pushes down the fears that he’s just a writer’s creation, as he has been doing for years.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “A coincidence that made my life hell for years.”
He can’t blame the end of his marriage on Wake, and he knows that. He and Miranda drove that relationship to its grave all on their own, but Casey investigating the Wake cult murders had been the final straw. The marriage was on the rocks long before that, and he had been so focused on the case that he couldn’t find it in him to try anymore. Wake had nothing to do with the cult anyway, being missing and all, but sometimes, when he’s drunk, it’s easier to blame it all on Wake. The constant teasing from colleagues, the self doubt, fear, and paranoia, that was Wake’s fault.
Wake looks guilty, like he actually feels bad for the pain he’s caused. Casey would actually prefer it if Wake told him to go fuck himself, if he said none of that was his fault! But Wake is quiet, introspective, far from the man who punched paparazzi or proudly proclaiming his hatred for the Alex Casey films on talk shows. Casey wonders if he’s so subdued because he’s still in shock, or if it’s because of what has happened to him over the past 13 years.
“It’s getting dark. Let’s get to the car,” Casey says, before Wake can do something even more mortifying like apologize. Wake’s gaze turns fearful once more as he looks up at the sky.
“The Taken are going to come,” Wake says, and yeah, that’s ominous. Casey’s gotten a feel for how all this works with the darkness and the light, so now he must do his best to calm and reassure Wake. Wake is an important witness, and they need him calm and forthcoming with answers, but Casey is not good at the soft, comforting demeanor that is required when dealing with victims. (Is Wake a victim? Casey doesn’t know. He certainly seems traumatized, but is that shaking, sad, wet eyes thing an act, or is it genuine?)
“I’ll handle it, Wake.” He begins to climb the final set of stairs, watching Wake to make sure he follows and doesn’t need assistance. Maybe some adrenaline has kicked in, thinking about the Taken, because Wake manages the rest of the walk without Casey’s help. They reach the car, and Casey opens the back door for Wake before moving to the trunk to get the blanket.
Wake nearly collapses in the back seat, and Casey drapes the blanket over him. He wraps the blanket around himself and closes his eyes. Casey watches him, observing.
He looks better with long hair , Casey thinks, even though his hair is wet and messy from trudging through the forest and every picture of Wake from before featured him with perfectly styled short hair. The beard looks nice too, and Wake has really aged into his looks. Casey isn’t sure why he’s thinking about this; it’s not exactly the detached observations he usually tries to make while working on a case… Though, he’s never been able to be objective when it comes to Wake.
“Your partner’s coming, right?” Wake says, breaking the silence after a few minutes. “Those woods aren’t safe, especially not in the dark—“
“Anderson can handle herself,” Casey replies. “And she’ll radio if something comes up. She’ll be here soon. Just… try to take it easy.”
“Right,” Wake says. “Okay.
Casey doesn’t know if that made Wake feel any better, but he thinks that’s the best he’s going to do, so he closes the door and leans against the car, waiting for Saga.