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Casey managed to pull Wake out of the lake. The writer's body was limp and heavy, taking all the remaining energy for Casey to drag them both up the shore. He limped a few more steps before gently laying Wake down, collapsing to his knees beside him, his whole body on fire with pain.
***
The writer was sitting at the desk in front of the typewriter, typing frantically as the pages were flying out of the machine. The cabin was engulfed in darkness, wrapping itself around the writer, dark tentacles almost caressing him. Casey has found him. He was so close. He took a step closer as suddenly something slammed into his side and knocked him off his feed.
***
Casey had been fighting his way through this nightmare. He was getting attacked by the aggressive shadowy figures and possessed objects, now so familiar to him. Wake had been missing for a week, and Casey, along with Anderson, had been searching for him. It was almost too easy following the tracks of Wake's new writing to its source.
The lake, always the lake.
Without any hesitation, Casey had grabbed a flashlight and a revolver and ventured into the night to find Wake, despite Andersons' warning.
She was right of course, they should have planned and waited for the FBC backup. Systematically burning their way through the shadows. No Casey-solo missions.
That was no option for Casey. He couldn’t let Wake, or anyone, suffer in this place.
Besides, Wake's writing was too powerful, too dangerous. It could bring the darkness to spill over and doom them all. He wouldn't let that happen. Preventing people from getting hurt was his only reason.
Nothing else.
He told himself that.
Casey made his way through dark streets and alleys that seemed out of place in a small town like Bright Falls. They reminded him of old cases from his past, which he tried not to dwell too much on. He encountered small groups of Taken, going through the familiar motions, shining the light, dodging, pulling the trigger.
As he walked through the streets, the surroundings gradually changed into a wooded area with razor-sharp ledges. The place was covered in a dark mist and the flickering lights seemed to burst whenever Casey approached them. Casey knew he was on the right path. Maybe Wake had provided him with a shortcut. Suddenly, a barrel came flying at him at great speed. He was only able to dodge it just in time.
Or maybe no shortcut.
'Stupid, Fucking Alan Wake', he thought. He will be the end of him. Keeping Wake safe from his stupidity. Getting himself captured by the darkness … again.
Casey was now on a street curving downwards. The Anderson Farm is in the distance. A tunnel before him, the shortest way down to the lake. It didn’t surprise Casey in the slightest that as soon as he entered the tunnel a tall shadow blocked the exit. The sound of a chainsaw echoed on the tunnel walls. Casey emptied a whole magazine into the figure. This was getting ridiculous. As he was catching his breath the clattering of a can made him swirl around, saving him from an axe to the head. Casey was getting tired and annoyed, raising his flashlight and gun again. Angry he marched toward the shadow, pulling the trigger multiple times.
He could see the cabin now on the small island. The bridge looked brittle and fragile. A clattering sound of keys being pressed drifted over. Wake was there.
The bridge made squeaking and creaking sounds as he crossed it.
The sound of wings got strong. Hundreds of birds were swirling around the island. Casey pressed on.
Entering the cabin he heard the typewriter sound coming from upstairs. Getting closer.
WHRUMP.
As he entered the writers’ room something slammed into him, his gun and flashlight clattering over the floor. The thing was wrestling Casey to the ground. Sharp claws digging in his side. The other hand wrapped around his throat, choking him.
Casey pushed against the creature which gave an inhuman snarl, and just pressed harder. He tried for the gun. The creature raised his arm, slamming the razor-sharp claws into Casey's chest instead. He screamed.
̴“̶T̸H̴E̵ ̷H̶E̸A̴R̵T̴ ̸.̶.̷.̷ ̷W̴A̸R̸M̶”̷
Black spots in his vision, the agent's hand found the flashlight. With all the strength left he slammed it into the creature’s head. Where it stuck. As it raised his claws again, Casey flicked on the switch. The creature gave a screeching sound as the light vaporized it from within.
The darkness was now all around them like they were floating inside a black cloud. Wake kept on writing, unfazed by the action behind him.
No reaction from the writer even as Casey approached him and forcefully pulled Wake's face to him. His bloody hands were leafing prints on either side.
The eyes of the writer were unfocused, dark mist emitting from them. His hands moved on like having a life of their own, tipping away.
“Wake! Snapp out of it!”
The hands clacking on, never stopping the flow of words and pages getting filled.
“Stop it.” A light slap on the cheek. Casey felt the darkness at his back, grasping his clothes.
“Wake you have to end this!” The darkness now tucked on Casey.
“ALAN!”
Wake's eyes flashed and suddenly he looked panicked upon seeing Casey.
A feeling of relief flooded Casey as the darkness now put its arms around him. As it touched the wounds on his chest, he was filled with blinding pain. He felt himself getting dragged away.
The last thing he saw before the darkness fully engulfed him was Wake turning back to the typewriter and hastily typing.
…and the dark ocean spewed them out.
***
Alan was lying on his back with his eyes closed.
Casey was kneeling over him, his clothes clinging to his body and the open scratches bleeding sluggishly. Wake was not moving.
'Always waking Wake.', like a stupid alarm clock.
"Hey Alan, wake up," Casey said.
Alan Wake groaned and slowly opened his eyes.
***
Opening his eyes, Alan was greeted by the sight of his favorite grumpy agent. Being very, very close and looking as exhausted as Alan felt.
He also felt the rays of the early morning sun on the side of his face, which illuminated Casey's face above him. As Casey greeted him with a rare smile, he felt flooded with warmth. He also realized the disgusting state he was in, with his clothes soiled and his hair sticky and wet.
“Ugh” was the eloquent greeting that escaped him.
“Good morning”, a very rough but relieved-sounding Casey closed his eyes and moved closer to Alan.
Who was now panicking a bit. Was Casey going to kiss him? His heartbeat picked up, and he -
But the agent just let his forehead rest on Alans for a second, before rolling himself off him and laying next to him in the sand.
Alan's heart was beating rapidly in his chest.
“What happened?” Alan asked.
“A lot.”
“The darkness grabbed me again?”, he moved his hand over to the agent.
“Mhmm”
“You got me out of it” taking the others hand in his.
“Mhmm”
Holding hands, Alan was suddenly filled with love for this stupid self-sacrificing man. He squeezed Casey's hand, which was wet and sticky. He got a weak squeeze back.
Alan turned his head. A cold spike in his chest as he took in the state of Casey for the first time.
“You’re hurt”
“Mhmm” The agents’ eyes were closed. The pain was evident in the clenching of the jaw and furrowing of the eyebrows. "Casey!" Alan sat up quickly despite feeling cold and stiff. He shuffled over.
With horror, he took in the state of the man's body. The suit jacket was torn and the remaining parts of the former white dress shirt were soaked in blood. “Alex!” he got no response.
Shit, shit, shit.
Sirens in the distance.
Casey lied still.
No, no, no.
He shook Casey's motionless form. No reaction.
Wait.
He could always rewrite the ending of the story.
***
“Hey Alex, stay with me.” Alan put his hand on the other mans cheek.
"m awake. Not sleeping on the job," murmured the agent.
"Saga's probably already on her way to save your sorry ass as she always does," Alan's light tone sounded hollow to him. But it made Casey lift a corner of his mouth.
"You're the ass," he replied. "And I am always going to save yours first." The last part was almost too quiet to understand.
He slowly opened his eyes.
Blue eyes looking into grey ones.
Alan could see the emotions, clouded by pain but also love … for him?
He slowly bends down.
The kiss was chaste and light, careful of the injuries.
Smiles mirroring each other.
“Casey!! Wake!!” they heard Saga shout from a distance.
It’s going to be ok.