A/N: This story was co-written with thelizfantasy09. We basically made blogs and conversed in character through events. This story takes place about a little over six months after Prototype.

Chapter 1: Reunion Awaited

Alan sat in his car, sitting casually as he waited for the street light to allow him to continue driving from his work. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. His eyes wandered a bit to a small locket that hung from the rearview mirror, seeing her smiling face which he'll never see again.

It has been a half a year since Alice died, killed by Mr. Scratch during their last bout. He remembered watching her screaming to him, reaching out for help. And then his double…

Reality kicked back in when someone honked behind him, causing him to continue his ride towards his destination; home.

Through the past six months, things seem to have turned hectic. A lot of people have been talking about someone, a person he knew personally after the fiasco of his return to reality, or what Barry had called "consciousness". Because of his two year absence, Barry had covered it well by saying that during his vacation, Alan Wake had fallen into a coma after an accident.

But back to the person who has been all over the news: Alex Mercer.

He had heard a lot about the guy, his acquaintance. He heard how he was the cause of the large problem going on at Manhattan Island. He still couldn't believe that such a thing was happening, but then again, he was going through a hell that would probably come out of some repetitive Japanese video game.

He then turned and parked in the apartment garage, stepping out and heading into the lobby to check-in and gain access back into his home. Barry had given him the edited pages of his manuscript so he had to retype a few pages before returning the copy for publishing.

A said famous person- that the media was on and on about that people seem to doubt the news that actual person like "Alex Mercer" actually existed. They say many things, like he is a terrorist that caused the chaos in Manhattan…A true monster, but they haven't released any footage or picture of this monster. How could they- He could be just about anybody… That's what makes Blackwatch so on edge all the time. Can't trust anybody, which only made it easy for Alex to slip through their fingers every time they even got close on his trail.

But that isn't the reason he was standing on the balcony to a certain "Acquaintance", He knew him for a while now. The man was almost as famous as he was, and that somewhere deep down inside this hollow body of kept a small space opened- just for him. He knew he could trust this man, for he too went through the same kind of hell. "Alan Wake….. How long are you going to make me wait out here…?" He huffed, as he leaned against the glassed door, looking up at the gray clouded sky.

He stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him while dropping his book bag just near the door. Pressing the voice box, there was obviously no messages that were that important at the moment as he continued walking towards the living room. Having relieved himself of his coat jacket, clad only in his sweater, shirt, and jeans, the writer walked over to the living room when he noticed something different about the surroundings.

It wasn't what was different inside the apartment, but his gaze turned to see that someone was standing out in the balcony. He soon recognized the hooded man as he quickly walked towards the door, sliding it open before stepping out and stared at Alex Mercer.

"What… how did you…? …When the hell did you get here?"

Truth be told, he was glad to see him. He didn't think on it much, but thinking back now, his day had been shitty. These past few months had been.

The sound of a sliding-door opening and his name being called alerted him that Alan was home. He turned around to greet the man "Long time no see….." A small grin came and went, as Mercer walked past Alan into the living room. "I've been here only for 15 minutes, its fine." His hands shoved in his black leather jacket, leaning against the back of the couch. Those pale blue eyes peeked out from underneath the brown hoody that concealed most of his face. "Sorry… I didn't mean to be absent for so long…. Gotta keep moving ya know?" A slight shrug signaled he really had a complicated situation.

The writer shook his head at the man before stepping back inside. He walked over, grabbing the TV controller as he turned it on. It suddenly showed another segment on Alex Mercer, speaking of things that happened more than a year ago. He had been trying hard to understand all this, but now he had to know. Turning it off, he looked over at Alex, giving him a look as if asking what the deal was with some organization going after hm.

Alex shook his head as the news rambled on and on about old news-The TV was suddenly turned off…silence fell over the room. He felt questioning eyes on him, waiting for an answer- wanting to know the truth. He sighed deep inwardly, not making any indication he was going to move from his spot. He didn't want to do this, tell Alan who he really was- But lying to him wouldn't be so wise, he couldn't do that to him. His eyes met Alan's in a serious intensity, and then they looked down to the carpeted floor, staring blankly at it. "I won't blame you for being scared of me- with the fact I'm not human, not in the slightest. I was the cause for the virus in Manhattan, but I didn't spread it. Alex Mercer was never my real name… I never had a name; I only woke up on a cold metal table about to be dissected in the morgue section of Gentek. The company my former self- the real Alex Mercer, a sociopath scientist who took revenge on the world by unleashing the virus in Penn Station as he died... Thus creating me-" He got off the couch and walked closer to Alan, staring him with those piercing eyes.

" I'm the virus Alan, Blacklight. I'm wearing the body of a dead man- So you can say I'm Alex Mercer, a reanimated corpse brought to life by the virus he helped construct. I'm a real monster. I- *his voice becoming frustrated* I can't fix what I've done… The many people I've stolen their identity. Taking their form like a shapeshifter, knowing everything, their skills, and their memories." He let out a hysterical laugh "I can hear their- voices sometimes… It's not pleasant" He took more steps toward the writer. "The company wants me dead, so they can destroy whatever evidence that could tie them to the fact they made the virus. Constructing a biological weapon…..ME!" The look in mans eyes, showed both fear, inner rage.

Alan could see the signs of the man before him suddenly losing his composure so suddenly, as if telling him this had been held in for a long while. He listened, standing still when Alex began to approach towards him. As he got closer, he could see all sorts of emotions crawling through and inside the man.

Once he shouted that last part and was now standing before him, Alan stared silently as he saw that Mercer was expecting some sort of reaction from him. There were many ways to react to this, truthfully most people would freak out and call the cops. However, Alan himself had gone through things that would otherwise make people go insane himself. He didn't have to deal with whispering voices, not anymore after escaping the Dark Place, but he still had to fight at night.

He himself had secrets, some things he hadn't shared with the other as a precaution since the beginning.

But as the writer took in a deep breath and placed a hand on Alex's shoulder, as he thought through this, one thought came above all the rest.

"So… you're saying that… this friendship might not be real, since you're saying that you aren't Alex Mercer, not anymore anyways." His eyes fell to the floor, not looking Alan in the face. "I'm not sure what is real about me. This face- is my own. Or these feelings are just fake imitations".

Clenching Alan's hand that was on his shoulder in his own, his voice lowered to silent plea- "Alan…. I understand you might not trust me, but believe in what I say- I would never deceive you." He slowly was regaining his composure, letting go of the writer's hand, letting his fall silently to his side. "I'm known as Alex Mercer… so I would prefer you call me that, it would make me feel… more human. At least a little…" His expression looking hurt from his own realization….

"Hey… I do trust you, more than most. Believe me." The writer thought back to Bright Falls, how it took so long to get someone to believe him about the Dark Presence. He gave a small nod. "Alright, Alex... And… sorry. I didn't mean to have you say all that… I just needed to get things cleared up. Plus, Barry's been on me about how I should be watchful on whom I hang with nowadays." Couldn't blame his friend for thinking that since Mr. Scratch is still on the loose but no one other than him and a few others actually know of the man.

Hearing the others words, calming down enough to regain his composure. Stepping back, closing his eyes to push back the many depressing thoughts that almost clouded his mind, looking back at the writer, he shook his head as he let out a chuckle "Your sure quick to understand- but I know why though. We've both been through hell enough to know trusting certain people can be good or…. bad. " He scratched the back of his head, reaching under the hoody. "Sorry for barging in, and rambling about my own problems you when you have a set of your own- which are equally as dangerous".

"It's no problem."

The writer assured him as he patted his shoulder, stepping over towards the kitchen before coming back with two beers. He tossed one of them to Alex as he opened the can and started to drink.

"And technically, I let you in. If you did barge in, you would have had to pay for those windows." Alan thumbed over to the balcony doors, knowing full well that those alone would kill a paycheck of a normal wage of a bartender having a good day. He then took a seat on the couch, turning on the TV again but changing it quickly since the news was still on about his friend so he continued to search the channels for something worthwhile before he had the urge to work on his manuscript. "Alright… besides the whole 'on the run' thing, how've you been?"

Alex glanced at the expensive glass windows, and shrugged as he opened his beer, sitting on the other end of the couch's armrest. Staring at the TV, as Alan flipped through them, the mood calming down. Hearing Alan voice his concern, Mercer shrugged taking a swig of the beer- leaving a bitter taste, the affects of alcohol never seems to get to him. But he can't let his senses be blurred. "I don't know- The military hasn't been on my ass lately. So that gives me a bit of freedom to move about".

After a short while, Alan gave up as the TV was now showing some ridiculous talk show. Looking over to the virus, he took another swig before placing the can on the large coffee table.

"And that should mean you won't be getting shot at or bombed at."

He had heard of some of the excessive force the military seemed to use in order to catch Mercer. And it is quite obvious that they failed miserably.

"I guess that means you are gonna be able to relax until they find you or whatever."

He snerked as he finished the rest of the can, crunching it in his fist- like squishing a bug. He placed the can on the coffee table, and sat down on the cushions. "If you mean by relaxing- sitting here drinking beer with you, probably is the only relaxing thing I can do…. Which isn't so bad I guess" He covered his mouth as he let out a hacking cough- then rest his head the palm of his hand as he stared blankly at nothing in particular. He then suddenly remembered why he was here in the first place. Glancing in the writers direction- "Alan… Have you seen any unusual- people following you?"

Alan gave a laugh and was about make a remark about Mercer needing to get out more without getting shot at when he heard him ask that question and cough a bit. The cough he could ignore, probably a small side effect from being stuck outside, but the question? He leaned back on the couch, thinking about it as something did put him off the past few weeks.

"Actually… yeah. Barry's been getting random request for me to arrive at some radio station or even a new talk show that was supposed to air last week. I rejected the offers so apparently a few days ago; they said that they needed to ask for some input on my manuscript. Kind of have to work on it tonight and I'm supposed to get picked up tomorrow and talk with the source. But that's just me being a whiner. That's the business of being a writer."

Mercer sigh in relief, the Blackwatch agents haven't taken noticed- haven't discovered that Alan was acquainted with him. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, as he felt little better. A grin on his face "Don't be picky, gotta make some quick money somehow…" He teased with a quick wink.

"I may not be selling books right now, but I still have a lot from the royalties when I wrote the Alex Casey series." He gave out a small laugh, shoving him a bit. "Besides, I just go with my gut with these things. I don't need to get rushed during an interview. Barry wants me to get my stories straight before I go talking to the media."

Mercer only returned the shove with a little shove with his shoe, laying back against the couch, grinning at the other, furthering the small teasing- finding some amusement in it. "Over confidence- cocky one you are"

Alan shook his head, hearing the phrase way to similar that of a green alien from a sci-fi movie series. He replied, "It's that over confidence that'll get me away from all the crazy reporters who are asking for a punch in the face."

Sighing relieved, the writer relaxed himself before thinking on to why Mercer was questioning about any suspicious people he met. In New York, that's an everyday thing. Plus, his level of suspicion on people has gone up since he came back. "Why are you interested on people that I meet? The worst I'll be getting is just a long resume on why I should bring back Alex Casey," he questioned. He probably wasn't going to get a straight answer, but it was just worth a shot.

Mercer- pondered on how he should word the situation- so that Alan wouldn't freak or become paranoid even more. His lips were a bit dry, the taste of beer still lingering in his mouth. His wet tongue glided over his lips, wetting them, as he was about to speak. He flipped his hood back, brushing back the messy hood hair. He fixed his eyes on Alan, then letting out a sigh "Don't get antsy- but I was making sure none of the agents after me were- on to you…. which it seems your fine. So don't worry about. And go about your business"

He sighed to himself, knowing full well that he wasn't going to get an answer but just accepted the warning. He then said, "Fine… but if I start seeing people in black suits and all Matrix, I'm going to expect some answers."

Mercer grinned back- tilting his head at the writer expecting nothing less of a good enough answer from him. "And answers you will receive- In due time Mr. Wake." He moved to get up off the couch; he can't linger here long, flipping the hood over his head once again. "I should be going- you probably have important homework to finish" He shot him another quick wink before walking over to the glass doors.

Alan followed him out to the balcony, the cold night air hitting them just as he opened the door. He leaned against the frame of the sliding door, hearing the city noise from below. "…Be careful, Alex." He gave him a solemn look, rubbing the back of his own neck.

The virus looked around at the surrounding buildings- He saw nothing that could be a spying device. He turned toward the writer wearing a small smile, "I'll... keep in touch" He gave him a small hand salute as he jumped over the edge of the balcony disappearing from site.

To Be Continued...