#alan wake x alice wake

[brookah-art]

sam lake told me they do this

[wondrouswendy]

For the Ask game: Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss.

32 and Alan x Alice

Wide Awake - A kiss to wake up for Alan/Alice.

Parliament Tower. 

The gold plated, art deco building towered above me, casting a foreboding shadow. 

How many times had I gone through this loop? Writing a scene with Casey’s reluctant help to pay the Dark Place its pound of flesh. Too many times. 

“Maybe this time it will be different, Wake,” Casey reassured. “Maybe this time, you’ll wake up.” 

I flashed him a solemn half-smile. Every time we followed this well-treaded path, I ended up here. Sometimes Casey would be at my side, sometimes the Dark Place took him from me as the price for my mistakes.

“I’ll try my best,” I told him, trying to convince myself as much as the universe.  

Rain began to fall in the square, hitting the concrete in soft pitter-patters. Casey grabbed my arm before letting me face my routine destiny. 

“Do more than try, Wake. Don’t let him get to her.” 

Scratch. The monster haunting Alice on the other side of the divide, pushing her further and further into despair. 

He pulled me closer, pressing a kiss for good luck to my forehead, and then he let me go. As I entered the building, I felt his eyes on the back of my head. I didn’t dare turn and look. I hardened my resolve and entered the elevator to ascend to our floor to reach our apartment. 

The numbers on the readout rose higher and higher. No matter how many times I had progressed through this ritual, I couldn’t wrap my head around what was happening—the mechanics of manifesting the building boggled my mind. Was Parliament Tower a place caught between two worlds? Was the veil more tenuous between the Dark Place and reality? 

The elevator door slid open. I crossed the threshold and immediately felt lighter. This time was different. Not a last chance to escape, but something… something different. My instinct told me I had just stumbled upon a rare opportunity. 

The entry to our apartment was well lit, even at night, and this time, there were no blinding flashes from countless cameras. 

I never fully understood what I was looking for as I padded silently through the apartment. Was I looking for some magical item which would transport me to reality? Or, my mind sometimes considered, was this stage of my journey meant to serve as punishment? 

Yet Alice’s apartment—it was hers alone now—did not show signs of decay and distress like previous times in my memory. The space felt more akin to a home. Warmer, bathed in lights. It reminded me of the well-lit room within the Bright Falls dam. There were no dishes piled in the sink, no clothes haphazardly strewn over the couch, nor empty takeout boxes. 

There was a slide projector, and it turned on as I entered the living area. A mixture of familiar places began to cycle—pictures of beautiful, picturesque landscapes, portraits of neighbors and new people, inanimate objects, and then… my breath caught in my throat. Pictures of Alice and I before Bright Falls. 

Photos of me in college. A rare handful of photos of Alice, taken by a clumsier, though no less admiring, hand—me. Then pictures of us, together. My proposal to Alice, when I had recruited Barry to snap a picture of us in the moment. Our wedding, with Alice in a white, lace dress. Photos from our honeymoon where we laughed and smiled and never considered how difficult our lives would become. The photo reel remained positive, serving as a reminder of our best moments. 

Standing in the beam of light, I realized the purpose of this loop. I would not be escaping, not this time. This venture served as a reminder of what I was writing for. This loop would lead to a different manner of salvation. 

Something pulled me away from the projector, an invisible hand leading me on. I let myself follow this silent heading and quickly understood where it led: our old bedroom. 

Light peaked through the bottom of the door. My hand hesitated on the knob. I knew I would find her on the other side. I knew I would see her at last, for however long I had left. There wouldn’t be time for much more than a stolen glance filled with my longing for her. 

I couldn’t waste another second. I turned the knob and stepped inside. 

Alice was asleep in our bed, the covers pulled around her. She was clutching a pillow, mine it seemed for there was one missing from the empty space beside her. She slept peacefully despite the heavy rings under her eyes, despite the grief and sorrow I had put her through. 

I sat on the edge of the bed beside her. Carefully, I reached out and pushed a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face, curling it behind her ear. She was as beautiful as the day I met her, somehow even more now. She still wore her wedding ring. She carried her love for me as a cross to bear, and as much as I wished she would free herself from this burden… I was also so grateful. She was reaching out for me as much as I was reaching for her. She had heard me call her name. 

I loved her. I could have spent this moment torturing myself with guilt and shame. I could have dropped to my knees and prayed at her altar for forgiveness, but I stayed at her side and watched her sleep. I would memorize her features, I would pin them to the board in my mind, I would think of her in my lowest moments. I would recall her strength, her tenacity, her diligence. 

If I could free myself from the Dark Place, I would never leave her side again. 

I could feel the Dark Presence tug at my mind. If an invisible, guiding light had brought me here, a darker, more insidious force now reminded me my visiting hours were over. Even as forlorn longing washed over me, I knew I would not be alone on the other side. I would do the steps again, I would return to her. 

I bent down and softly kissed her lips. A goodbye, a good morning. I’m sorry. I miss you so, so much. I love you. 

The darkness pressed on my mind, and as my eyes fell closed, hers opened. 

“Alan?” 

[desakuro]

ATTENTION, SPOILERS!

So by the end of AW2 in the Dark Place we have: Tom Zane (hasn't gone anywhere for 70 years) Casper Darling (disappeared under the influence of a resonant hedron) Alice Wake - returned voluntarily.

Alan's appearance, voice and soul are collected in one place. And since they're all gathered at the Oceanview Casino Hotel, why not play?

[sassytheturtle]

A small little detail that I love that isn't talked about enough is that in AW1 when Alan is yelling and pissed off at Alice, he stops and turns away when the lights flicker because he knows Alice will already be freaked out enough. Even though his temper is rising, he stops and waits for the lights to come back on to continue. You can tell that even when he's mad he still cares about her. And I just love that

[fiannans]

I did the thing. 🥺💍

[ilkkawhat]

[velvetjune]

Alan being a parautilitarian the FBC wanted for the prime candidate program and to lock up; Alice possessing a possible camera OOP and requested to be taken in after her FBC visit caused Hartman to break containment; Barry joining the Blessed cult that the FBC is currently hunting down and arresting anyone involved. Gotta love a trio that are all wanted by the federal government

[thiswindingroad]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢

𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

───── ꩜ ─────

[tanis-drawings-2point0]

Wake's Friends

(shared domain // common ground)

ive been meaning to draw this since I first read that page in aw: american nightmare, i practically have it memorized by now lmfao...... anyway i just think there should be more art and fics about these three ;__; ;O; please......

[tanis-fics]

Hypothermia

At last, Alan Wake escapes the Dark Place for good, but stumbles in the way out when an unnatural cold freezes over his very core. Luckily he's not alone this time, and the people he loves the most help him warm up.

Pairings: Alan Wake/Alice Wake/Barry Wheeler × Alan Wake/Alice Wake × Alan Wake/Barry Wheeler × Alice Wake & Barry Wheeler ♦ Words: 3215

[on ao3] ♦ [on squidgeworld] ♦ [read on site]

 What once was a fancy suit now was hardly distinguishable from the dark place he was trapped in, sticking, wrapping around his skin slick and wet like dark seaweed around an unsuspecting diver. Alan didn't know when he started shivering, when his hands gave up trying to take off the damned thing, when his eyes started losing focus and the newfound heartbeat started feeling slower and slower, but before the dark (not The Dark, but close enough to make him sick) could claim him hands shined in that darkness.

 They helped him. They always did. Alice loosened the noose of his tie and struggled with the buttons that appeared to be melted on the fabric as Barry took off everything else, layer after layer after layer. Alan didn't remember wearing those many layers, but the thing that was being peeled by his best friend could hardly be described as clothing anymore.

 Even as the last layer of thin film-like substance was removed from his body and quickly replaced by a dry towel he felt weak. The slick cold still stuck to his skin like a disease, and Alan feared the prospect of never getting rid of it, after so much struggle, after so many years. Gentle hands rubbed the towel against his skin, against his heavy wet hair, his bushy beard, long extremities too numb to try to do it on their own.

 He could hear them talking around him, voices floating aimlessly without him being able to catch them, but regardless Alan smiled weakly, almost feverish, at that. When was the last time his beloved wife and best friend seemed to be on the same page together? Vague threads of memory resurfaced slowly as the warmth of the towel started to sink in, echoes in the dark that could have been real as much as deceptive, and the mere fact that they could have had happened in the past decades without him knowing, without him being there, made a pit on his stomach. He had lost so much time with them.

 "Here you go, Al, drink this."

 Alan could only make a nondescript noise at the sight of a steaming cup of something, larger hands wrapping around his own as Barry helped him take the cup to his lips. Hot chocolate. Oh, it had been a while since he last had a hot chocolate, hadn't it? He almost chokes on the drink as grief threatened to close off his throat, if not for the sets of hands cupping his own and caressing his feeble neck.

 The warmth penetrated his body in small yet thick doses, down his throat and through his veins. It was uncomfortable, it almost hurt, too, but he took it in stride. With it Alan could feel some of his senses coming back as he held on tighter to the mug with his own hands, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it flow freely trough his lips, seeing the steam curl around in the air as it disappeared into the room... Which room was it? For a second Alan hoped, feared, to see his very own room in Parliament Tower, but they were clearly not in it. No, this room was smaller, both messier and emptier in a way that made him feel vaguely melancholic, with a framed photograph sitting on the other side of it.

 He recognized Barry immediately, like a mirage, but it took him longer to recognize himself at his side.

 Has he's even been in that room? In that house? Did Barry move? Did something happen? Alan couldn't remember. Was any of this even real?

 Before he could ponder further he felt the towel being taken off his shoulders, and even though it had grown cold with time a complaint escaped him nonetheless, finding a small comfort on the pressure of it. Such complaint died as soon as it started when he felt a different kind of warmth envelop him instead, arms slipping through his waist to wrap around his stomach, pulling him closer.

 Barry looked different from what he remembered, he wasn't too far gone to not realize something bad had happened despite the vague feeling that he should know exactly what, but in that moment, in that hug, he was the same old Barry Wheeler he knew and loved since they were children. A crushing hug with an excess of concern and anxiety that made him bark a weak laugh for the first time in a very long time. Skin against skin the remnants of his subnatural cold quickly extinguished as he shivered for entirely different reasons.

 To lay together to avoid the deadly cold, now that was an old cliché if he ever saw one. He would be lying if he said he never used it himself in one of his books, the appeal was clear, but he couldn't figure out how they could possibly imagine the situation applied here. Decades of continuous drowning in the Dark Place was not a mere case of hypothermia.

 Regardless, he leaned into it. Alan leaned into him in that tight space the same way he would wrap inside an old cozy blanket in a cold, cold winter night.

 Looking up for what it felt the first time he met the gaze of his beautiful, wonderful wife with surprise. As much as he could muster, anyway. Former apprehensions wanted to crawl up his skin with the slow dawning of the scene, feeling the comfortable warmth of his best friend's front and side enveloping him completely from behind, wanting to sink into it yet dreading the bickering that it might entice. But Alice's eyes reflected back only the profound love he was feeling at the moment, coupled with a deep sense of sadness directed at the scene.

 Before Alan could grab her hand and tug her into his aching arms, however, something else distracted him. Hot tears were rolling down his back to split where skin met skin, leaving a burning trail on it. Barry was crying, messy and snotty and pressing his cheek on his shoulder blades as he buried his hands on the hollow of his stomach.

 The memory of leaving him on the well-lit room flashed on his mind's eye, desperately trying to derive meaning as the loops and years built and crumpled like sandcastles on his mind. But he did remember leaving him for what he hoped wasn't the last time. And as he tried and failed to turn around to face him, Alan twisted enough to lean his forehead against Barry's head, wrapping a stiff arm around it to bring him closer than physically possible, his other hand grasping his tight embrace until his fingers hurt with the effort.

 Nudging the ever receding hairline with the tip of his nose, Alan couldn't help but smile when Barry cried harder. He had always been a bit of a crybaby, ever since they were kids.

 His burning cheek and fuzzy chest pressed tightly against his naked back were new. So were the heavy hands anchoring on his front as if he tried to keep him in that plane of existence all by himself. Knowing Barry, he probably was. He, however, didn't say a word as the mattress shifted under the added pressure of Alice, who silently joined the embrace and quickly warmed up the places that were left untouched, making a place for herself between his tucked legs and bare neck.

 Alan took a deep, shaky breath, swallowing on the verge of but not quite overwhelmed. This was so much better than the towel.

 Just like that he got swayed by the newer, kinder currents of hands, and warmth, and flesh, digits mapping skin that hasn't been kissed by the sun in a long long time, lips that tried to do its job instead. He nearly let himself be pulled under once again, not by a cold and dark ocean but a bright one, loving, when the memory of touch sparked slowly on his mind. It had been a while, hasn't it? He couldn't remember the last time he was touched like that, akin that.

 Except that'd be a lie, because he did remember.

 Flashes of touch, bright, and loud, got thrown into the mix that was his scrambled brain. Flashes of touch, and sex, and death, of holding a man holding him down, holding a gun. Blood dripping down his face blood dripping down from his face. Pulling the trigger. Kissing him. Tasting copper behind his teeth.

 Suddenly the calming contact burned his skin and Alan jumped further into the mattress, shielding his body and face with his arms, feeling shameful under the gaze of the woman he loved so, so dearly.

 "I'm... I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Mortification bloomed on his throat like icy water, replacing the newfound warmth inside of him. "I'm sorry, Alice, I- I..."

 Beyond the shield that were his arms he could see the confusion painting his loved ones' features, and he simply curled tighter when Alice tried to reach for him.

 "Hey," she said, reassuringly, as if talking to a frightened animal, "it's okay, Alan. You're here now, you're safe. We're both safe."

 "Y... yeah, but-" Guilt started dawning of him, of things done over and over again. He remembered now, seeking that same warmth with the one person who pulled him under again and again and loving every second of it. At least until their collaborations went too far, and he got twisted beyond recognition. Playing a sick character on a twisted fantasy.

 He rolled his ring with his thumb, his only real landline back when he could hardly retain anything that wasn't his fucking name. Not that it ended up mattered much, apparently. The feeling of sweat, and blood, and other fluids sticking grossly to his body like a stain he couldn't clean.

 "I... Alice, I cheated. I cheated and I, I've done worse. I've- I've done some terrible things, I-" The Taken didn't bleed, then why did he remembered so much blood on his hands? On his skin? Paired with the utmost certainty that it was all his fault. So much pain and suffering, all of it, he- He didn't deserve this, this love, he-

 Delicate hands grabbed him by the wrists, touch soft, yet firm, as they uncovered his panicked face and then made him look up. Alice held his face unflinching, with an alarming lack of surprise on her features beyond a knowing shadow on her eyes, a light crease on her eyebrows that he so wished to smooth over. Had he already told her that? Instead, she caressed his cheeks with her thumbs before leaning her forehead on his.

 "Alan." Her voice was clear, understanding, yet not lenient. He braced himself for whatever she had to say, already expecting anger, painful words that he could almost remember hearing with her voice, but reality wasn't as indulging. Alice nudged the tip of his nose with hers, the ghost of a smile gracing her features. "You're home. That's all that matters to me. That's all that matters, for now."

 The striking blue of her eyes was blinding and disarming, and as the tension left his body he couldn't help but sob. He felt like choking, but instead of angry tears against the cold wood they met his wife's hands and lips as she kissed his quivering mouth, over and over again before wrapping her arms around him. Alice was trembling too. Feeling her close, so close as she burrowed her face on the hollow of his neck and he clung to her back for the first time in a lifetime, he could easily feel her trembling as he cried.

 Behind the blood drumming loudly on his ears and the sobbing, however, Alan eventually heard a foreign sniffling, and despite the mixed feelings of guilt and death and love and gratitude he raised his gaze enough to look at his friend, sitting on the far corner of the mattress.

 Barry was drying what little was still wet of his face with a hand, looking anywhere but them to give them some space, and with an air of embarrassment. He lingered as if he had the intention to leave but couldn't will himself to do it, and if Alan was being honest, he didn't want him to.

 He couldn't remember more than bits and pieces, but he could remember that he forgot, forgot about Alice, her voice, her face; forgot about Barry, too. He might not deserve them, but he didn't want to forget them ever again, as long as he was alive. With a trembling hand he wrapped his fingers around his shoulder, calling his attention. His puffy eyes met him immediately, and something curious happened.

 He watched Barry watching him, watching Alice, and Alice shifted inside his embrace. Holding his breath and his tears for a second for an old-time sense of pride he could feel an implicit question in the air, and an answer he couldn't catch before his breath got knocked out from him by his friend jumping to join in the hug, throwing them out of balance in the process.

 Alan cried, and laughed, a relieved and wet squeak that somehow found its way around tangled limbs and tangled sheet, a warm cacophony strangled between the two bodies of the people he loved the most, holding him tight.

 Time kept ticking on the real world. Time wasn't a stagnant thing that echoed in it itself, a perpetual night that could last centuries. Here Alan could actually see the way the room changed color as sunlight touched his face, the walls and finally the ceiling, could feel Alice burying herself on her side with leftover fear as the yellow and orange tinge of the air grew darker, as Barry moved around the apartment in quick motion, reassuring him. (Reassuring them?)

 Alan wondered what he was doing, eyes closed sometime ago as the cathartic cry left him weak of mind and body. But as the light behind his eyelids slowly dawned it quickly got replaced by a myriad of colors, and that easily sparked a buried memory. He opened his eyes to christmas lights hanged high around the room.

 "Barry. Really?"

 "What? You never know when you're gonna need them." When he sat on the bed again he was wearing an old band shirt, one that Alan swore seemed familiar. "They actually made a show about that, you know? You have to watch it sometime."

 Alice groaned. Alan smile widened, sleepy yet curious, less so about whatever show his beloved friend was talking about and more about her reaction. Have they had this conversation before? Alice never seemed to be completely at ease when Barry was around, back then, but now...

 Well.

 If Alan had any piece of mind he might have actually been surprised to his own almost complete nudity, and the lesser, yet still surprising amount of skin they both were seemingly comfortable showing around each other, but he was beyond any of that at the moment. Sleep wanting to join their embrace as he clung to consciousness, to the people around him that he didn't want to part with, didn't want to sink back into darkness despite the treacherous yawn that escaped his mouth.

 Around him Barry chucked, and Alice nuzzled the side of his face with a smile that tickled his skin, before cupping his cheek and peppering him with kisses. Alan was too exhausted to answer, humming instead, long and deep. She really wasn't helping... feeling his friend's hand on his hair, starting to mess with it before combing it with his fingers, didn't help either.

 "Hey Al," Barry started, mocking smile tainted by fondness, "have I've ever told you... you remind me of a cat? A big, cranky cat."

 He huffed an indignant noise, bluffing an annoyance that he couldn't muster to feel, not now, with Alice's surprised laugh pressed against his skin.

 "He really does, doesn't he?" Alan wanted to argue, yet he couldn't do more than melt against her hand as it slid down his cheek and beard, mapping the hollow of his neck and collarbone, caressing each and every muscle like a precious thing. The motion sparked on his mind the image of a cat sprawled at length, purring loudly as multitude of hands groomed him. Unfortunately, he saw the resemblance.

 "He's knocked out cold, huh? Can't even defend himself..."

 "Well, he must be exhausted... He's been through... he's been through a lot..."

 "Yeah, no shit... Wait, you-?"

 "Mhm."

 Sighing heavily, he started resigning to his sleeping fate lulled by their voices, only tangentially aware of their conversation. He had been through a lot. He could feel it on his aching bones.

 "How... What was it even-?"

 "It was Hell."

 The silence was deafening, then, prelude of memories being drowned by the drag of skin and the flickering of colored light.

 "I..." The lips on his neck hesitated, before Alice shifted again, laying her head on his chest. "I am sorry, by the way. I really am."

 Pressed at his side he felt Barry tense a bit, and Alan finally, finally croaked, confused at the lingering apology.

 "'bout what?"

 Both heads turned to face him, in unexpected surprise.

 "About..." Alice's gaze jumped between them, before smiling a rather sad smile. "Well, the things I did. And the things I, I had to do. I'm sorry about everything I had to do."

 Alan had no idea what she was talking about, but with the very last bit of strength he slowly shifted and held her even closer to his chest. Nothing she could ever do would be as terrible to warrant such sadness on her eyes. Alice held on tighter, holding her breath.

 At his side, Barry shifted too, eventually. Face now smooshed against an arm that didn't have any more energy to embrace him properly while he wrapped his own around his stomach, like the world's worst giant pillow, before doing something that surprised Alan even in the state he was in. While his arm laid around him his hand reached further, giving Alice's arm a light squeeze before keeping it close by. The reply to that was a simple smile, and a calmer exhale.

 As everything he's seen since he got out of the Dark Place, Alan wondered about that gesture too. He'll have to ask them to fill in the details when they had the time, for he did not trust his own looping and tainted memory. What was real? What was a nightmare, a fabrication, or wishful thinking? He needed to hear it from them. He needed to hear everything.

 But they both waited so much time for him, he could wait some more for them.

 For now, Alan simply laid there inside the embrace of the two people he loved most in the world, bathed in the flickering christmas light. The coming darkness when he finally closed his eyes was dulled by the faint colors, former ache on his bones lulled by the human warmth that surrounded him now. Between feeling the rise and fall of their breathing and hearing their lingering conversations, for the first time in many, many years, Alan Wake was able to sleep in peace.

[brookah-art]

that meme going around twitter i guess

[florallychaotic]

Alan and Alice genuinely are Orpheus and Eurydice doomed to repeatedly travel to hell to rescue each other and I am not okay

[winters0689]

Swag, Autisic ladies

With their Loser, Autistic Boyfriends

[4thwallbreakerdraws]

[gh0st1nth3wa11s]

hi... Wakers I have a fanfic for you.. chapter one..

'Divers Love.'

okay it's a normalcy AU and is Alan/Alice. they deserve happiness and a break from the hellish(/pos) cannon of the game.

~`☆`~

Alice turned on the car, pulling it off the boat carefully as she playfully honked at Alan. Alan scoffed and rolled his eyes, soon getting in the car. "You ready for relaxation?" His wife asked. Alan cracked a smile, closing his eyes as he rested his head against the window. "Yeah, yeah, Alice." Alice couldn't help but grin bigger, tapping her hand against the steering wheel. She pulled in front of the towns diner. "We need to stop here, get the key from.." Alice leaned forward, looking at the notebook that had their days planned. "A Mr. Carl Stucky, he should be waiting for one of us.." Alice's eyes looked up at Alan, smiling more as her husband groaned, rolling his eyes at her. "I will go fill up the car, and come get you in about.. What? Ten, fifteen minutes?" She asked him, putting the car into park. "Sure." Alan murmured, soon getting out of the car. He was nervous to separate from her. "Oh, and Alan?" His turned back around, leaning down into the car window. "Hm?" "Thank you for coming here with me." He chuckled, smiling as he shook his head. "I love you too, I promise to behave." Alice nodded, gently laughing to herself as she pulled away.

Alan exhaled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked into the diner. He looked around, jumping slightly as he met his carboard self, right in the doorway. He had forgotten about small towns. He had been in New York for years now. It wasn't a little town where everyone knew each other. He had been scared out of his thoughts as the woman behind the counter spoke to him. He glanced at her name tag. Rose. Her name was Rose. "Welcome to the Oh Deer Diner!" Alan cringed internally. She projected her voice so much that it seemed louder than it was. but he knew it was just his exhaustion. Alan spoke quickly, "Hey, I was wondering if you could help me, I'm looking for --" Alan blinked as he had gotten cut off. "Mr. Wake? Alan Wake!! I am your biggest fan - I know how people say that a lot, but I really am -" As Rose spoke, he took a step back, glancing at his carboard cut out. "That's.. great to hear that.."

His voice trailed off. "Rose!" She said happily. "Rose, I'm looking for Mr. Stucky, Carl Stucky." Rose nodded, setting her hand on the counter as the other grabbed a dirty coffee mug from in front of her. "Carl? of course. He must have whent to the rest room, he'll be out in a moment." She smiled warmly at him. Alan moved around, letting his hand run across barstools. Her and Alan talked briefly, She was talking how she had all his books, where she got the cardboard cut out, even to a conversation about coffee with the towns police officers, Rusty. He turned, letting his eyes close as he heard Rose ask if his wife was with him, and that she could show him around town. God he hated that comment. "So much for a quiet vacation.." He mumbled to himself. He spoke louder. "Thanks Rose, we'll be sure to keep that in mind." He said kindly, He swiftly moved toward the back of the diner, turning on that damned music box as he was asked, by the two - seemly old cooks of the town. He made his way into the dark hallway, being weary of where he stepped. He knocked on the bathroom door, "Stucky? Mr. Stucky?" before he soon turned, to get met with a woman in funeral wear. "Jesus-" He muttered. "Carl couldn't make it unfortunately, he fell ill." The old woman held her hand out, the key hung off of it. "But I have the key, and the instructions to get to the lake." Alan nodded carefully and snatched the key from her hand. "Okay.." He muttered. "I wish you a good stay in my cabin. I will visit you later on to check how you are doing." Alan nodded. "And to meet your wife." His eyes turned to a harsh glare as he looked at the woman. He soon fixed his face, it was rude to glare. "I insist." The old woman continued.

Alan looked at her in slight bewilderment. "Thanks.." He moved away quickly, gripping the key in his hand. His eyes darted behind him as the other woman began to talk about darkness and how it wasn't safe. He shrugged it off, keeping himself moving. Eager to get back to Alice. He waved half hazardly to Rose as a goodbye and shoved open the diner door, exhaling as he saw their car in front of it again. He got in the car, taking a big breath. "Mission accomplished, The key-" He held it up in his hand, "And the directions." He grinned just slightly as he saw Alice's face light up. "My hero, I got more batteries and flashlights. just in case." She took the keys from Alan and set them on the clipboard that was on the dash still. Her hand returned to Alan's after she put the car in gear.

They began to drive, his thumb tracing over Alice's ring and down her ring finger as he began to spoke. "That diner was a real nut house.." Alice laughed, "Can you believe this place? this would make a great setting for a book-" Alice's face dropped slightly as she realized the words that had just slipped from her mouth. She didn't even truly, actively try to say that. She glanced at Alan, an apology in her eyes, then back to the road. "Were supposed to be on vacation, Alice." He said with slight bitterness, letting his tone soften before he spoke again. "I'll figure it out when we get back home. Okay?" Alice nodded, and Alan looked back to the road. "Okay, we can talk about this way later." Alice said, reassurance in her voice, one that made Alan feel comfortable enough even with the idea of talking about his writing right now. He hadn't written a coherent sentence since his last book , Two. Years. Ago. It made his head hurt to even think about that fact. Alan let his eyes close, to clear his mind. This was a vacation, time to relax, to let go and be a husband again, a good one at that. He missed Alice, he missed sleeping with her at night. He knew she had gotten used to a cold bed, he hated he was doing this to her. He had taken note of this in his mind. Spend more time with Alice, My light. Everytime that he had thought to get away from the damned typewriter, the darkness of what could happen if he stopped writing entirely re-engulfed his mind, scratching out his wife entirely.

Alan's eyes jerked open as Alice stopped suddenly. She had always been a little rough on the break but he had gotten used to it. She put the car into park and grabbed the clipboard and notebook off the dash, inspecting it and the key. "Bird leg cabin..?" She asked, glancing at Alan. "That was the key I was given.."

Alice laughed, stress eminent in her voice. "By who?" Alan rested his head back against the window, the lingering warmth from the heaters of the car kept him just cozy enough. "Some old woman in-.. like a 70s mourning gown, veil and all." Alice pulled the key from ignition and looked at Alan, her back against the door. "A 70s funeral gown? and you tell me now? Here, get out of the car, we'll explore and then head back into town. This isn't our cabin." Alice opened the door and got out of the car. Alan groaned, opening his eyes and got out of the car with her. Alice damn near ran across the bridge.

Alan scuffled after her, getting a tighter grip around his wife's camera lanyard. He stopped short as he caught up to Alice, heels dug into the soft dirt. He looped the camera around her neck, guiding it to rest against her chest. "Do you really wanna break into this place Alice?" He asked, his hand finding hers once more. Alan looked around, seeing a murder of crows lingered around the island. The house didn't seem up to times, the smell of wet wood filled his nose, this cabin gave him the creeps, he-

Alan was yanked out of his thoughts as Alice pulled him up the steps. "Cmon, just a moment.. Its not breaking in! We were given a key. Do you wanna stay by the door? to make sure nothing closes us in?" She laughed, letting his hand go. Alan rolled his eyes playfully, scoffing as he followed nonetheless. He watched Alice dissappear into the house, and smiled slightly as she fumbled with the key. He remembered how much of an explorer she was, how hands on she was a person. She was never to scared of the law, or the things inside abandoned places. She loved them, saw the beauty in the dilapidation. He stood by the door and held it open wide, watching his wife rummage around the cabin. "Bird leg cabin.." He said.

Alice perked up as he spoke, glancing into a book case. "Yeah, our cabins name is the 'Divers Love' not.. bird leg.." She tilted her head, seeing a couple of books, a writer she had never recognized before. She carefully snagged one from the shoebox, looking at the book in her hand. She set it back down, back with the rest of the books and stacked them neatly inside. Alice left the box and soon moved over to the counter, rubbing her hand against it. "I wonder if they even use this cabin.. its dusty."

Alan moved more inward, keeping an eye on Alice. He nearly yelped as Alice tossed a thermos at him. He caught it half hazardly, looking at it. "Alice!-" He said playfully, laughing softly as he turned it over. "Let's go soon, this place is freaking me out a bit. All the crows, and the... just. this place is weird." Alice nodded, grabbing the few scraps of garbage that was around before grabbing that shoebox. "Babe-" Alan whined as she moved past him. Alice turned around. "I'll return them once we go to leave and return the key to Stucky." Alan nodded, moving away from the door. His head snapped back to it as it slammed behind him. Alice locked the door again, slipping the key into her pocket and moved quickly off the island. Alan hurried after her, assuming she also felt the wisps of uneasiness that reached out of that cabin.

They gotten back into the car, Alice driving again. Alan looked around, ignoring the neck pain and how his back just generally ached. They had been in the car for so so. long. He was eager for a warm bed, a kiss from his wife, maybe a beer if she was okay with it. "Alice..?" He asked gently, looking at her as she hummed in response. "I wanted to- fuck.." Alan took a deep breath. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for all... of my nightly behaviors, when I'm not stuck in that damned office.." Alice grinned slightly, but Alan made no comment- he knew she had absorbed what he had said. "How much did I drink before we left..? Did you drink with me or.." Alice clicked her tongue. "Yes I did, way too much, we killed a twenty-four pack.. within like... oh.. shit, like, 4 hours maybe." Alice gripped the steering wheel as she looked back on the memory, he knew she didn't like her choices. "Sorry baby, I shouldn't have been enabling you." Alan nodded wordlessly, he knew why she did it. Got drunk with him to fall asleep in his arms again, to have his breathing sync with hers. He knew it was a last ditch effort to try and help rekindle their relationship a little more, to bring the rings that adorned their hands close again. He hated that she felt that she needed to be fucked up with him to feel connected with him. He knew Alice wasn't the best at these things, she was emotionally heavy, not taught to truly regulate herself either. He looked over, scanning Alice as a cigarette pack was made known in the pocket of her skinny jeans. Alice used to smoke.. badly, it would help regulate her. Soon Alan picked up on it too, then they both agreed to cut it down to a minimum. She must have been stressed, smoking them when Alan was asleep, he wondered how many packs she had whent through on the way up. Alice must have read his mind, she pulled the cigarette pack from her pocket and set it in the cubby in front of the shifter. Soon Alan's lighter made its way with it. "Oh so my lighter..?" He teased gently, looking over at her lovingly. "Yes.. M' Sorry, I couldn't find mine and it was a last minute idea.." She spoke gently, hunching her shoulders up, bracing herself for some snappy remark. Alan frowned. "Hey no, it's okay babe.. I didn't mean it in a bad way, I was just playin' around.." He said carefully, a hand finding her thigh as he rubbed it gently an attempt to calm her. "Maybe once we get back to our cabin we can get into pajamas and have a nice sleepy day... smoke a blunt, drink some wine... something gentle." Alice looked at her husband with damn near bewilderment. And Alan smiled at her before picking his voice up. "Alice-" Alice snapped her head up and swerved back into her lane properly, having just passed the yellow line. "Good god.." She breathed. "Where did you find pot..? But yes.. that sounds nice.. you deserve rest." Alan chuckled warmly, eyes blinking with tiredness as the exhaustion seeped into his bones. God he missed his wife so much. "I have my ways... and maybe after we get the key we head back to the store and then find our cabin..? You deserve rest too Alice..." He said, always hating how Alice put him first. that the things they did were for him, not for them, together.

Alice nodded, soon parking in front of the diner again. "Okay. I'm gonna get the right key, return this one, and then we can finally fucking unload our car." She clapped her hands together and grinned at Alan. He smiled back weakly, watching her get out of the car and into the diner. God he was exhausted, tiredness pulled at his eyes an everlasting nagging to let himself drown in the darkness that cradled itself at the back of his skull. His eyes cracked open as the drivers door opened again and Alice plopped herself into the seat. "So.. they said.. there is no cabin in the lake. It whent down in the 70s.." Alice looked over at Alan with mischief in her eyes. Alan scoffed playfully and looked away. "Well glad that's not us." He held his hand out for Alice to take, smiling bigger as her had found its place in his.

After a while, they were on the road again, Alan had ran into the store, grabbed beef jerky, a pack of beer, a bottle of Alice's favorite wine — surprised that they had it, so. He had to get it. A small bouquet of flowers, condoms. For some fucking reason. Alan cussed himself internally as soon as they got scanned, what was he going to need those for? Not like he planned on doing anything, and was fine with doing nothing - His thoughts were that if by some damned miracle that he and Alice were to do anything those would ease her mind a bit. Considering it had been.. almost a year. Since anything, any sort of romance, that thought hurt his soul.

Alan looked around again as they pulled into what seemed like the most scenic cabin in the woods ever. He looked around, marveling around at the trees, and how pretty the cabin looked. It was on the opposite side of Cauldron Lake. God, the cabin was beautiful. A bit older, rustic on the outside, but he knew the inside was more modern. He looked at Alice, grinning at her with full fangs - he was excited to be here, with her. He got out of the car, moving over to Alice's side, and scooped her off her feet, causing her to yelp and soon laugh as her husband held her close to his chest. He grinned more, cheeks starting to hurt as she unlocked the door to their cabin for the next month, a long. nice vacation that the both of them deserved, needed.

[fiannans]

🥺💔