Chapter Text
It had been about twenty-five years since Stanley entered the Parable, and four years since Stanley had started falling for the Narrator.
Their relationship had gone from merciless rivals that would spend every hour meticulously finding all the possible ways to make the other’s life ultimately worse, to being awkwardly civil roommates. Well, moreso in that they begrudgingly found themselves fond of each other.
It started when one day, completely out of the blue, a run of the Wife ending was interrupted by a loud crackle of static, and the Narrator’s dialogue for the phone room was cut-off. There were a few moments of silence, until a harmony of electronic buzzing, static, and other systems making noise started echoing throughout the room. Then another bout of silence.
What’s going on? Stanley asked in his own internal monologue. This had never happened before, and while Stanley was usually ecstatic at new things in the Parable, he could tell this wasn’t meant to happen.
After a few more beats of Stanley standing around in the phone room, the man found himself a bit anxious. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, trying his best not to fiddle with his hands like a nervous child. He had never heard something so abrupt overtake the Narrator’s presence, the only thing close being found in the Confusion ending. That loud buzzing at the end of it had given Stanley a heart attack the first time it happened.
“Stanley!” The Narrator finally exclaimed, making the man come back from his own panicked thoughts, “Forgive me, ugh, it seemed there was some sort of glitch on my end.”
Glitch? … Well, did you fix it? Stanley asked while crossing his arms.
The Narrator groaned, “Yes, Stanley. I fixed it. But let me tell you that never - in all of my years of running this Parable- had I once encountered a glitch! Sure, there had been times you clipped into a room you weren’t supposed to, but a glitch on my end! Can you believe it?” Stanley braced himself, knowing an entire monologue was about to occur.
And that it did. After about four minutes of non-stop rambling that made Stanley’s ears bleed (one that was about something something ‘absolutely embarrassing’ something something ‘completely malapropos’), the Narrator let out a sigh.
“Alright, Stanley, let’s just restart, shall we? That whole thing ruined my immersion…”
Before Stanley could protest, his vision went black and his entire world fell from him.
THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END
Since that point on, the Narrator was quite different. He was more merciful, patient, and more pleasant overall. Stanley assumed it was because the glitch humbled him a bit, showing the Narrator he wasn’t this flawless being he liked to imagine himself as.
Or maybe, like Stanley, the Narrator was just worn out after so many years of repetition, and was looking for something new.
Their eventual bond grew very, very slowly. It still grew nonetheless, as it had an eternity to do so. The first heart-to-heart happened around a year into them not being actively antagonistic towards each other. It was then that Stanley learned just how insecure the Narrator really was; how he never really allowed himself to indulge in any happiness that might come from vulnerability. That was probably why the heart-to-heart took so long to happen in the first place. It was also then that the Narrator learned how starved for any affection Stanley was, and how even just the slightest bit of friendliness made the world of difference to the man.
These revelations dictated how they acted around each other from that point on. Stanley made efforts to subtly coax the Narrator out of his stubborn emotional suppression, whereas the Narrator made an effort to actually care about how Stanley felt from time to time. A very groundbreaking revelation indeed. Their bond grew at a steadier pace from there. Still slow, but more stable.
It wasn’t only until a few months ago that Stanley had convinced the Narrator to make a physical form. It was mainly due to them both being insanely bored of the multi-decade long uniformity that made the Narrator give in rather quickly once the idea was suggested.
The form he took was almost exactly how Stanley pictured him. An older man, probably late fifties, with grey-tinted hair and a fashionable-yet-somewhat-tacky 80’s style brown suit. He also had an endearing set of glasses that really complimented his eyes. The Narrator was practically always in his human form once he created it.
At first, Stanley hadn’t realized he was starting to fall for the man now that he was a tangible being. It wasn’t until they accidentally brushed hands one day - the very first time they made direct contact - that both the men had erupted into an awkward demeanor complimented by flushed skin. Stanley had to come to terms with the fact he was developing a crush.
Okay, no. Crush made it sound immature. The Narrator would never like him if Stanley was the type of man to still use the word crush. The Narrator would probably be impressed with Stanley if he used the word “infatuated” to describe how he felt, perhaps even compliment him for it and smile at him in a way that made his eyes have that slight sparkle that Stanley yearned for because the Narrator was usually such a refined man but those eyes showed such emotion- dear god Stanley was falling hard for the Narrator, wasn’t he?
Stanley’s infatuation was hard to deal with, especially because the Narrator was only growing more sentimental with Stanley by the day. He had started clapping his hand on Stanley’s shoulder when he congratulated him, had started nodding approvingly and giving Stanley that damn smile when the other followed his directions, and had the cutest reactions whenever Stanley teased him. The Narrator was getting a lot more comfortable around Stanley, and in turn, Stanley was getting a lot more daring in showing his affection.
But one day, about a week ago maybe, Stanley had taken it too far. He was on-route to the Freedom ending when he decided to play with the Narrator a bit by going into the broom closet.
“Stanley,” The Narrator sighed, following the other into the room, “Why are we here?”
Stanley closed the door behind the two with a smirk on his face, relishing in the irritated groan that was made from the man behind him.
Just admiring the scenery, Stanley thought, it’s clear you took a lot of time into designing this place. Might as well give it the attention it deserves.
Stanley missed how the Narrator’s breath hitched slightly when he said that, as the man quickly hid it with a scoff. Stanley picked up a tape measure and smugly turned it around in feigned analysis when the Narrator spoke up.
“Please, spare me the excuses. Wish you would give this kind of ‘attention’ to the parts of the story that actually matter,” The Narrator crossed his arms, “I swear, Stanley, I can’t figure you out for the life of me.”
Hey, I’m a pretty simple guy, Stanley leaned his shoulder against the wall of the closet. Give me a bucket and I’ll be happy.
“That bucket was the worst idea I’ve ever had,” The Narrator replied, pinching the bridge of his nose with an irritated expression.
That bucket is the best idea you’ve ever had, Stanley retorted. Maybe in the next run I’ll take it with us. I want you two to get along, my two best buds hanging out.
The Narrator suppressed a slight sound of amusement with a sound of annoyance.
“Stanley, you have till the count of three to leave this closet before I make you. I’m not in the mood for games today.”
Stanley left the wall to instead send a challenging glare at the Narrator, I know you’re too soft to do anything now. You like me too much. Hell, you even failed to carry out the Countdown Ending the other day. All bark no bite, that’s what you are.
The Narrator’s annoyed demeanour changed into something more serious, his arms folded behind his back. His head was tilted down in a way that made his eyes get covered by the tint of his glasses, “Stanley, I would advise you to choose your next words very carefully.”
Stanley, with a bold sense of defiance he hadn’t felt since he first entered the Parable, took a step forward and used a hand to press the Narrator into the closed door. The action made the older man choke out a noise, his eyes darting to Stanley’s. Those eyes that drove Stanley further into his need to mess with the other
Then do it. Make me. Stanley leaned his head down until he was right next to the Narrator’s ear, and tried to imitate whispering through his internal monologue, I wanna see what you have in store for me.
The Narrator’s reaction was immediate. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, effectively trapped between Stanley’s body and the door, feeling all-too close yet not nearly close enough. The atmosphere of the room was suffocating, and made the Narrator’s head spin, his lungs feeling tight. His face felt so hot he was certain he might pass out, and this might just be a placebo but was his vision getting blurry? Stanley had never done anything quite like this before, he had never been so… so bold in whatever this was and he didn’t exactly know how to feel and he had not been expecting this in the slightest and all of this was just so sudden-
Well?
It wasn’t until Stanley got no answer for a few seconds that the man pulled back, his stomach dropping as he saw the Narrator’s overwhelmed expression and bewildered eyes, his back pressed against the door in a demeanor that screamed to Stanley that the Narrator was wildly uncomfortable.
I- oh, shit, I’m sorry, that was really weird- I took that way too far.
Stanley started to have racing thoughts as well, ones that overlapped each other, a few that yelled for attention over the rest.
I just ruined things, didn’t I?
Christ, what the hell was I doing?
I’m so sorry, really, really sorry.
God, that was so stupid, I don’t know what I thought would happen-
The Narrator started reeling from the sudden rush of the other’s thoughts, not used to hearing so many at once and in such quick succession, but it wasn’t until he heard one in particular, a tiny, quiet one, that made the Narrator finally push himself away from Stanley.
Fuck, he’s going to know how I feel about him, how the hell do I fix this?
“Stanley, stop!” The Narrator cried, covering his ears.
The Narrator was given time to collect his own thoughts, and was soon embarrassed he had lost his composure. Especially when he saw Stanley’s terrified appearance, body eerily tense.
The Narrator let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “Stanley, I’m completely fine, really. What did frazzle me was that barrage of uncollected thoughts afterwards,” The Narrator lied.
Oh… okay. Again, I'm sorry, I was trying to just mess around with you and I didn’t know that- like, all of that was crossing boundaries.
Narrator took another calming breath, “Just don’t do that again, alright?”
Stanley looked to the ground, his face scrunched. He nodded silently. The Narrator clapped his hands again as the door to the closet opened, “Alright! On with the story! Let's just forget about that whole fiasco and pretend it never happened!”
Stanley slowly and carefully walked past the Narrator, holding his arms close as he squeezed through the door frame, not daring to get too close to the other. The Narrator knew it was up to him to dispel this little awkward tension between the two.
“Now let’s hope you don’t try anything in the elevator, you weirdo,” The Narrator sarcastically stated.
Stanley whipped his head around, only to grin at the sight of the Narrator’s sly smirk.
God, you’re never going to let me live this down now, aren’t you?
“Nope. Never,” The Narrator began walking forward with his arms folded behind his back, and Stanley quickly followed him.
The rest of the Freedom ending went off without a hitch.
THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END
Today, Stanley decided he was going to try the Zending again. Well, the new and improved version. One where Stanley could ask the Narrator to reset when they were both ready, but it usually took a long, long time for the Narrator to be ready. Stanley was fine waiting, though.
Once Stanley told the Narrator of his plans, the man giddily rocked his arms, “Oooohhh, yes, my favourite!”
Stanley smiled. Before their relationship’s progress, the Narrator wouldn’t have dreamt of showing such clear happiness. Too vulnerable. Lost too much control with it, as apparently it made him susceptible to Stanley using it to his own advantage? At least, that’s what the Narrator said in their first heartfelt conversation. Frankly, it made no sense to Stanley.
The two quickly made their way to the Starry Dome, the Narrator barely containing his excitement. Stanley had to ignore the rising feeling of affection in his chest as the other bounced in place during the lift.
When they got there, the Narrator dramatically released a satisfied sigh, leaning against the wall of the Dome with crossed arms, gazing up to the illuminated room.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? I’d say this is the room I’m most proud of in the entire Parable,” The Narrator brushed his hand against the wall, “I dare say I love it here.”
Stanley watched the Narrator’s peaceful, adoring expression. He silently wished that look in the Narrator’s eye could be directed at him instead. Wait, is he really getting jealous over a damn room? Honestly, how could he not, not with the Narrator touching it so dearly and giving it such a tender smile. If only Stanley could make the Narrator as happy as his own creation.
“What are you gawking at?” The Narrator asked with a raised brow, Stanley coming out of his thoughts.
The man approached the Narrator and leaned directly beside the other, trying to lazily stuff his hands in his pockets, only to spend a few seconds struggling to find the one on his left. This action made the Narrator exhale a laugh.
Nothing… just… I think it’s nice how much you like it here. I can tell you’re really happy whenever I come to this place.
The Narrator turned away back at the ceiling now decorated in pink lights, swallowing rather audibly, “How could I not? Have you seen how beautiful this is?”
Stanley kept staring at the Narrator, his expression soft. Yes… I have.
The Narrator glanced at Stanley again, mouth open as he was ready to talk, only to fall silent when he saw the other’s gaze on him.
Stanley jumped a bit, realizing he might be making things awkward again.
… Sorry.
“No, no… it’s okay. I’m glad you like it here, too,” The Narrator turned his whole body to face Stanley, now leaning on his side, “Stanley… I have something to say. I feel I might only have the confidence to say it in a room like this. This room- it’s… it’s special, and I don’t know how or why, but-”
This room is you. Stanley thought, mirroring the Narrator’s stance.
The Narrator fell silent, another shade of red resting on his face. He cleared his throat again, “Well… yes, I suppose it is. Somewhat. I did take a lot of care into it.”
Stanley followed the Narrator’s action of brushing his hand against the wall, except Stanley gently used the back of his fingers, …You amaze me, you know that?
The Narrator suddenly found himself sputtering, the always refined and cordial man now reduced to flustered words being forced out, “Stanley, what’s gotten into you today?”
Stanley’s heart was beating out of his chest. He was pushing it, he knew he was. However, he couldn’t help himself. He hoped with his entire being that the feelings were reciprocal, but honestly? Stanley was pretty sure they were, if the Narrator’s flushed face was anything to go by.
Stanley leaned more towards the other man, noting how the Narrator didn’t pull away, but instead fell silent to stare at the other.
The fact you’re able to create a room like this, create a story like this, create the Parable, Stanley started in a soft tone, as much as it gets repetitive, it’s really something special. I feel only you could make something like this.
The Narrator took in a shaky, uneven breath, his expression unreadable. There was a moment of quiet, before a look of contemplation flashed across the Narrator’s face. It didn’t last long before an arm was raised, and a hand dared to cup Stanley’s cheek.
Stanley’s mind went blank, the soft and comforting sensation blooming across his entire head. He found himself leaning in to the touch, desperate to be just that bit closer to the other man.
“You’re such a sap,” The Narrator mumbled in the quietest voice Stanley had heard from the man.
He probably wouldn’t have heard it if it wasn’t for the fact that Stanley was now mere inches from the other’s face.
Is this really happening? Stanley thought to himself.
Stanley was caught off guard when the Narrator delicately replied, “Yes… it is…” Right. Mind reading.
… Narry, I have something to say.
“I love it when you call me that.”
Seriously. I need you to just… just listen, okay?
The Narrator brushed his hand so it now reached the back of Stanley’s neck, an action that made Stanley shiver. “Of course, dear boy.”
I…
The Narrator suddenly yelped at something behind the two, making Stanley flinch and turn around. On the wall across from them, was a small, pink beetle.
Stanley huffed at the moment interrupted, then turned back to the Narrator. He was about to continue his confession until he saw the Narrator’s horrified face, the man just short of shaking in his boots.
Stanley chuckled and took a step to the beetle, bending down to examine it. What? You afraid of beetles or something?
Stanley reached out a hand to it, only to cry out when the Narrator harshly pushed him away, “Stanley, get away from that thing at once! That is another bug in my game! Two in one century, can you believe it?!”
Stanley reeled back, standing up from the fall he had taken from the Narrator's panicked action, Wait, that’s what a bug looks like? Like- a computer bug? I thought it was only in code.
“Well, this parable is only code, yet it’s pretty real to you. This code-filled bug takes a physical manifestation much like- ugh, I don’t have time to explain this to you!” The Narrator began pushing Stanley out of the Starry Dome, the other man letting him, “You need to get out of here at once! I have no idea what will happen if the bug makes contact with you!”
Aww, are you worried about me getting hurt from a little bug bite? Stanley teased, turning around on the steps to the Dome.
“Yes, because in this case, that bug bite can erase your existence. Or worse, permanently corrupt it entirely!” The Narrator shouted with a furious expression.
Stanley fell silent.
Okay, yeah, I’m out, please get rid of it. He thought as he backed towards the door.
“That’s what I thought,” The Narrator mumbled, “Just stay near the staircase and-”
Oh shit, it’s on you!
“WHAT?!” The Narrator screamed, Stanley pointing to his left hand.
Sure enough, the pink beetle rested on the Narrator’s left ring finger, and before the Narrator could begin to swat at it, he reset the entire game out of a blind panic.
THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END
Stanley gasped as he awoke at his desk. He quickly pushed himself up from his chair, and exited the office. He did a double take when he failed to see the Narrator’s form waiting for him outside.
Hello? What happened?! Are you okay?
There was a sound of shuffling papers, and the voice of the Narrator soothed Stanley’s anxiety for a moment, “I’m fine, Stanley. Just prolonged the loading of the reset so I could effectively deal with the bug. It turns out to have been in the system for around four years, as awful as that is, but thankfully only seemed to have affected my code. Rest assured, I have erased all corrupted data, and nothing should be affected anymore.”
Stanley took a large exhale, resting a hand on one of the desks in the office, Christ, you really had me scared, Narry.
A sound of disgust came from the voice, “Narry? What on earth makes you think you can call me that?”
Stanley sent a look of confusion to the ceiling, still not used to not talking to the Narrator’s human form. Okay, you can just say you don’t like that nickname anymore. Don’t have to be rude about it. What about… Nar-Nar?
An even bigger sound of disgust, “The Narrator is fine, Stanley. Remember, you still have to refer to me with the respect I deserve.”
Stanley couldn’t help the scoff that left his throat, as he pushed himself off the desk. What the hell?! Why are you talking to me like that?
The voice scoffed, “Because for some reason you seem to think you can call me anything but my true title, Stanley. All buddy-buddy like.”
But we are buddy-buddy. I don’t like whatever this is, can you stop doing it? If this is something you’re trying to tease me with, I really don’t find it funny.
“And who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do? Have you forgotten yourself? I make the final calls around here, lest we have to have this discussion for the millionth time. Honestly, it really gets tiring.”
Why are you acting like… I don’t know, how you use to? I get that bug might’ve freaked you out a bit, but you can’t take that out on me. It's making me feel really awful, y’know.
There was a sound of a chair being moved forward, and the next sentence had Stanley hear the Narrator had leaned right up to the mic, “And why should I care?”
Stanley felt his legs grow weak, his stomach churning. That exact tone made memories of the early years flood into Stanley’s mind. The years of contempt, frustration, and constant bouts of anger and resentment the two held towards each other.
“I’ll let you off the hook this time, as whatever happened during the time period of me being corrupted by the bug has left you perturbed. I suspect during that time I may have acted differently…”
Wait… no, there’s no way.
… How long were you glitched? By the bug?
“Ever the excellent listener, Stanley. I said four years not even five minutes ago. Quite the time period for you, I would assume, but ultimately nothing compared to the eternity we face ahead.”
No…
“Now, let’s continue with the story, shall we? Up and at ‘em, as you might say.”
No.
“Stanley? C’mon, let’s get a move on. Don’t tell me you’re pouting, I can’t console you because I don’t even recall what all happened. Erasing the data meant erasing the memories as well, surely you must understand that.”
No, no, no…
“If it’s any help, I can promise you it will never happen again. I’ll make sure of it. Everything is exactly how it was before, I can assure you.”
Stanley’s breath was quick, his chest aching in a way that made his hand involuntarily clutch at it. He felt a pain stinging at his eyes, and blinked it away in the form of watery tears. He did everything he could to stop himself from trembling.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re about to cry over it. Get a hold of yourself, Stanley. It was just a bug.”
That’s all it was. Just a bug?
“Okay. I see what’s happening. I must’ve been incredibly cruel to you during the infection, and you’re obviously crying in relief over it finally being over! Well, whatever it was, I’m back to how I was before, good as new! Aren’t you lucky?”
Stanley tried his best to conceal his next thoughts to the Narrator by singing a song over top of it. It usually worked. It masked his thoughts of knowing how if his Narrator was back, he would be hugging Stanley right now. Actually be able to tell he was upset. Rubbing a hand across his shoulder. Comforting him, having those stars in his eyes that-
Wait… stars…
The Starry Dome.
He had to get to the Starry Dome.