Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Two buttons sat on the table in front of the two men. On and Off. They, or rather one of them, discussed it at great length, and they agreed on what had to happen.

Despite the Narrator controlling the Parable, he had no idea how long they were there. It could have been years, even decades. Whatever the length of years, they both were tired of it and ready to move on. Any time was too long in that blasted office.

“Are you ready, Stanley? I know this will be a massive change.” The Narrator looked at the worker beside him. The only possession they had with them was the Reassurance Bucket held in Stanley’s arms. They didn’t really have anything else.

Stanley stared at the buttons and nodded. He wanted nothing more than this and even dreamed about it over hundreds of nights. Hugging the bucket tighter, he pressed the off button.

The Narrator prepped this for several days. He worked night and day to ensure everything would connect seamlessly. He had to connect the office to reality if they wanted to fully escape the facility. He turned off the reset point. The Narrator glanced at Stanley as the door started to open. They would be free. 

Hopefully. If everything went to plan.

In all truth, all the planning and work the Narrator put into it could have gone to nothing. Maybe his connection wouldn’t work. Maybe the pair would just hit a wall instead of restarting. Was there really a world out there? Neither knew, but neither wanted to even consider that.

Sunlight poured into the mind control facility and shone on the metal staircase. Gentle music started to play from speakers in the ceiling. Bird chirps beckoned the men to come outside, and they obliged.

Stanley led the way down the steps as the Narrator silently trailed behind him. The two had experienced the freedom ending before, but not like this. They hoped and prayed they wouldn’t be back. They would walk down the steps, enter the world, and the office would shut behind them forever.

“I suppose we are moving onto a new story, Stanley. This time, neither of us knows what’s going to happen.” The Narrator rambled as they reached the bottom of the steps. “No scripts. No plotlines.”

The birds’ songs were louder, and they could hear the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. The Narrator’s voice trailed off and soon joined Stanley in silence. They stood at the start of the path. Their whole new life was set ahead of them. Stanley looked at the Narrator for a moment before taking one of his hands off the bucket. He took the Narrator’s hand, and they started down the path.

The sun felt more than heavenly on the pair’s skin. The wind ran its fingers through their hair and caused Stanley to grin wide. He already knew this ending felt different. The Narrator’s efforts paid off. They would be free.

Everything solidified once they walked past the reset point, and the door started to shut behind them. The rumbling ground caused Stanley and the Narrator to look back at it. A lump in the Narrator’s throat immediately. His hand loosened its grip on Stanley’s, and he stepped toward the door.

“No… Wait.” All of his certainty in his choice started to fade. Doubts quickly overwhelmed his head. What if it was all wrong? What if he made the wrong choice? He stared at the door with wide eyes as he questioned his decision. Why did he think this was a good idea?

Stanley’s hand on the Narrator’s shoulder pulled him from his thoughts. The touch was gentle and barely there since Stanley didn’t want to startle the older gentleman. The Narrator stared at Stanley’s concerned expression for a moment before he sighed. 

“You’re right, Stanley. Leaving is for the better.” The Narrator gently patted Stanley’s hand on his shoulder as he walked to stand next to him again. His actions were met with a wide dorky smile. Stanley’s smile was well known to be contagious, so the Narrator smiled back. Stanley knew it was the right decision, so it had to be. The Narrator trusted Stanley.

The two men stood together for a moment as they simply smiled at one another before Stanley grasped the Narrator’s hand again and tugged him down the path. The Narrator chuckled and walked beside Stanley as they returned to society. The door that led into the mind control facility was completely shut. The pair was free.

The world around Stanley and the Narrator welcomed them with open arms. The bird songs sounded more upbeat as they sang their hellos. The wind danced through their clothes and hair. Neither of them dropped their smiles the entire time. As Stanley glanced around the “new” environment, he couldn’t help feeling like he recognized some of it. 

Even though they had yet to approach the small town in the distance, Stanley stopped and glanced around. The Narrator looked at him and opened his mouth to ask why he paused. He shut it again once he noticed Stanley’s wide eyes.

That abandoned train station. He recognized it, but he didn’t know why. Right next to the train station was a bridge over a small river. He knew it was there without even looking. Stanley let go of the Narrator’s hand, while still holding the bucket obviously, and ran to the stone fence framing the path. He stared along the countryside, and Stanley’s mind raced. Everything was the same as he remembered, but why did he remember it? He was in the mind control facility for so long. It was all he knew, and he couldn’t remember this during any other freedom ending. Had he been here?

“Stanley? Is everything alright?” The Narrator walked to stand beside Stanley and looked out at the country to see if there was anything. Sure it was beautiful, but nothing crazy enough to run over for.

His question was met with a wide grin as Stanley pointed at everything. Stanley was fully mute but didn’t know sign language, so he communicated through his expressions and body language. Of course, trying to explain that he knew where they were by only pointing was impossible. The gears in his head worked overtime as he tried to come up with something.

Stanley would have to show the Narrator his house.

“Stanley! Where are we going?!” Stanley tugged the Narrator excitedly along as he skipped down the path. The Narrator held his glasses to his face as the two hurried down the path to prevent them from falling off.

Of course, Stanley didn’t respond at all. They soon arrived in the town, and Stanley looked around. He recognized the candy store on the corner. He knew his favorite restaurant would be on the next block. People glanced at the pair with raised eyebrows but quickly carried along with their days.

“I’m getting too old for this crazy running around, Stanley.” The Narrator took the opportunity to catch his breath. He tried to fix his outfit and smooth his clothes, but Stanley quickly tugged him along again. At least he wasn’t as aggressive this time.

“Do you even know where we are going,” yelped the Narrator. It could have been answered easily with a nod, but Stanley was too occupied to answer.

They walked down a sidewalk and the Narrator astonishingly stared at the rows of houses on either side of the pebbly road. The townhouses were either gorgeously trimmed or made of stone. Each one was amazingly unique, and the Narrator couldn’t get enough. Several homes had plants growing on windowsills or in small pots outside the front steps. It was already more gorgeous than the Narrator expected.

Stanley took in the sights as well. He recognized the framework and color of each house. He remembered it all. Stanley stopped once they reached an intersection. The road branched into two other paths, one off to the right and the other to the left. After a moment of contemplation, Stanley led the Narrator left.

“Of course, you pick left..” The Narrator grumbled under his breath. Little did he know that Stanley knew exactly where he was going. It was just a coincidence that his house was up the hill. Not that the Narrator knew that, nor did he know Stanley even had a home.

The road wound up the small hill with a wooden fence on the side nearest the edge and houses on the other. This time, Stanley paid more attention to the house numbers. 

“Why did we come this way? It seems like the town thins out a lot up here. I would love to see the shops more.” The Narrator glanced over the fence on the other side of the road to look at the town again. “I think I saw a library down there.”

Stanley responded this time with a shake of his head. They could visit the shops later. The numbers continued counting up as they walked up the hill. 425… 426.. 427. That’s why the number felt so special to Stanley! He stopped in front of the house and glanced around the front step. After handing the Narrator the bucket, he lifted the edge of the welcome mat, lifted a plant pot, and felt underneath the windowsill.

“Stanley, what in the world are you doing?” The Narrator watched curiously and then glanced at the numbers on the door. “Just because this home has your employee number does not mean it is yours!” Stanley chuckled lightly. Funny how that worked.

After checking a few more places, Stanley dug around in the soil on the windowsill. There it was! He pulled out a small plastic bag that held a bronze key. He knew he hid it somewhere. The Narrator stared as Stanley opened the bag and put it into the doorknob lock.

“Stanley!” The Narrator harshly whispered, “You can’t just break into this house! We just left the Parable, and now we’re going to go to prison!” Stanley chuckled as he twisted the key and opened the door. The Narrator couldn’t believe it. They were going to get arrested and Stanley was having a jolly old time while committing a crime.

Stanley cooly walked into the home and looked around. The townhouse wasn’t large, but it was enough to live comfortably. Pairs of shoes sat underneath a coat hook on the left side of the entrance hallway. On the right side was another wall with an open doorway a little further down. 

Stanley started to explore the house, remembering the layout more with each step. The light blue colored living room sat behind the wall and doorway on the right side. He glanced at the gray couches and the brick fireplace against the far wall before continuing on the path. 

The wall on the left of the hallway was actually the side of the staircase leading upstairs. In front of the stairs was another doorway, this one larger, that led to the kitchen. A few feet beside the doorway was a corner formed by the hallway that contained a small shelf with, surprisingly, alive plants. After staring in wonder for a moment, Stanley entered the kitchen.

He didn’t remember ever being much of a chef, and the kitchen reflected that. It looked new still and was on the simpler side. Connected to the kitchen was an equally simple dining room. There was no wall between the two spaces like the other rooms had. The square table at four chairs, but only one seat was empty. Papers, mail, and magazines were piled slightly on the other parts of the table. Stanley only had himself there, after all, so he didn’t need all the space. The house came with the table, so he never felt the need to get rid of it.

The dining room was longer than the kitchen since it connected to the living room. The table didn’t take up the entire room, so another shelf sat in the corner beside the doorway leading to the living room. The shelf contained more plants as well as some boxes of files. Stanley approached the plants and felt the leaf. Again, they were real and still alive. Strange.

He retraced his steps and approached the bottom of the staircase. After he got there, he realized that the Narrator still stood in the open front doorway and looked around with wide eyes. Stanley chuckled gently and walked over. He reached around the Narrator and shut the door behind him. In his moments standing there, the old man finally connected the dots.

“Is this… Your house?” He spoke gently and finally made eye contact with Stanley. Stanley smiled gently and nodded. The Narrator looked around the entrance, his expression shifting to pure curiosity.

“You have a house? You... had a life before the Parable?” He asked the question both of the men were thinking. While the house and faint memories were obvious proof of it, Stanley shrugged. He remembered the places around him, but none of the events. Maybe the Narrator coded them into his head? Maybe he coded the house out here too and just forgot about it.

But the Narrator was as confused as Stanley was, and they exchanged perplexed looks. Neither knew the answer, but that was too much thinking for right now. They already had enough excitement. 

Stanley quickly shook the thoughts from his head and gently took the bucket from the Narrator. He stepped out of the way of the Narrator and gestured for him to explore the house too. After a second, he followed the gesture and started to investigate. His investigation consisted of retracing all of Stanley’s steps from when he wandered around moments before.

The upstairs was a bit more crowded than the ground floor. The stairs had a small landing at the top before turning to the left to walk into the hallway. Right at the top of the stairs and the right of the hallway was a guest room. Since Stanley lived alone, he turned the room into a small study with lots of bookshelves. He knew the Narrator would love that when he came up the steps too. A desk sat in the office as well and there were stacks of papers on there too.

On the second floor, the steps had a small railing around them for safety precautions. Next to the office was the only bathroom in the house. It always worked with Stanley, but he knew it would become a center of conflict with the Narrator there too. Outside of the bathroom was a small space with another bookshelf against the wall and a little sofa. The reading nook perfectly nuzzled between the stair railing and the outside wall of his bedroom.

His bedroom. Stanley smiled wide and looked through the open door. Ah, that was a room he remembered. He walked into the room and took it all in. A queen-sized bed sat with the headboard against the left wall with light green bedsheets. The room was a bit of a mess of colors, with the walls being a pale yellow and several colorful paintings on the walls. A large window was on the wall across from the door, and let in such wonderful natural light. In the back left corner stood a tall wardrobe that held all of his most simple clothes. Around his bedroom were more plants and shelves with small knick-knacks. Of course, some books sat on his bedside table as well.

Stanley walked up to the paintings and investigated them. Had he bought them or painted them? Did he even have any hobbies? He glanced around the room for any sign of interests or hobbies he had. Well, he knew reading was one of them but was there anything else? Did he even have a job? Once again, his thoughts were interrupted by a certain chap.

“Stanley!! This house is incredible!” The Narrator excitedly walked into the bedroom and looked around with wide eyes. “You have quite the collection of novels, and I think the plants are a very nice touch!” He walked with a certain pep in his step which caused Stanely to smile wider. All the questions in his head quickly faded once he saw the gentleman. 

The Narrator glanced at the paintings on the walls before focusing back on the bed. He smiled wide and rushed over to it. He pushed his hand into the cushion of the bed.

“Oh my, a real bed..” He stared at it with such wonder. He didn’t know the last time he laid in, or even saw, a bed. His mind wandered, and he looked at Stanley. He wondered how long it had been since he slept in a bed. After another moment, the Narrator sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed with contentment.

“This is heavenly, Stanley. I imagine it’ll be lovely to sleep here tonight.” He chuckled and ran his hand over the forest-green checkered comforter. Of course, the Narrator assumed he would be sleeping in the bed with Stanley. There was only one bed in the house, after all. In usual Stanley style, he didn’t even care either.

Stanley nodded in response and gripped the bucket closer to him. He slowly grew a tolerance to its soothing effects, but he still enjoyed carrying it around. He approached the window and stared out. The window faced the hill, but his house was high enough that it looked out over the top. The field was a luscious green and dotted with white wildflowers. Stanley couldn’t help but smile. The scene heavily contrasted with the office he was stuck in for so long, but he 100% did not mind the change.

The Narrator soon joined Stanley at the window. The Narrator was shorter than Stanley, the top of his head reaching Stanley’s right under his nose. Stanley always thought the height difference was hilarious, but he grew to love it. They stared outside for a moment before Stanley’s stomach started to growl. Well, that was new.

“What was that?” The Narrator looked at Stanley immediately upon hearing it. He seemed human enough, but it’s not like either of them got hungry while in the Parable. It was understandable that he didn’t understand what was going on.

Stanley pointed to his open mouth with his free hand and turned around to leave the room. The Narrator didn’t fully understand his miming, but he followed after Stanley and they went downstairs nonetheless.

Stanley wandered to the kitchen, set the bucket on the counter, and opened the fridge. Albeit sparse, food was still in the fridge. There were some vegetables, condiments, leftovers in containers, and half a pack of beer. His freezer didn’t have much better results, containing some microwave meals and frozen chicken tenders. The cabinets had some boxes of dried pasta in them, but he absolutely needed to go grocery shopping.

The Narrator constantly looked over his shoulder as Stanley looked at the available food. The idea of eating intrigued him, but he knew he didn’t need to.

“You have quite the assortment, Stanley. What are we going to do with all of it?” The Narrator still assumed that they didn’t need to eat. They never had to before, so why would they now? Stanley shook his head, and the Narrator raised an eyebrow.

Stanley pointed to his stomach and then his mouth. He was hungry, so they, or at least Stanley, would need to eat. Stanley’s memories, live plants, and food in his home meant that he lived as a “normal” human before the Parable, but he couldn't be sure about the Narrator. He could always get enough food just in case the Narrator got hungry too.

“Ah, you need to eat?” The Narrator finally pieced together his gestures. He normally understood Stanley well, but he was not expecting Stanley to be hungry. “You never got hungry before.” Stanley nodded in response to both of the Narrator’s sentences. Both of them were confused about this, but the Narrator did say it would be a new story for them and they wouldn’t know what would happen.

Stanley thought for a moment. If they were going to go to the grocery store, he would need money. He probably had a wallet around somewhere. He started to open the top drawers around the kitchen. The Narrator raised an eyebrow and just watched Stanley search. 

After opening a few drawers, he finally found what he was looking for. He pulled out a brown leather wallet and a keyring. The keyring held three different keys and a small plastic orange tabby keychain. The cat was clearly old, some of the orange paint worn down to white. Stanley had no idea what the cat’s origin was, but he thought it was cute even now. The Narrator chuckled once he saw it. 

“Oh, that is adorable, Stanley! Do you like cats?” The Narrator continued to laugh lightly, and he put out his hand to look at the keys closer. Stanley complied and dropped them into his palm. The Narrator kept a smile on his face and looked at the keys closer. He assumed one went to the house, but he was curious about where the others led.

While the Narrator occupied himself with the set of keys, Stanley opened the wallet. There was cash, a credit card, a folded piece of paper, a receipt, and…

An ID.

Stanley saw the edge of the card peek over a pocket in the wallet. He stared for a moment, but he considered not touching it at all. His mind fought itself about whether he should look at it or not. What would it even tell him? He knew it said his name, probably his birthday, and maybe some numbers that didn’t mean anything.

None of it really mattered, right? His name was Stanley, he was some odd number of years old, and he didn’t care about any numbers besides 8 and 427. He told himself that, but his mind started to wander. Well, people usually had a last name, too, right? Not only a last name but an age too. He could learn about th-

“Stanley, why are we getting all of this out again?” The Narrator’s voice cut into his thoughts. Stanley noticed that he tended to do that, but he was not complaining in the slightest. He shut his wallet and pointed to the door and then his mouth. The Narrator started to understand their situation more and felt more in sync with Stanley again.

“Ah. You want to get food from the town?” His correct guess received a smile and a nod from Stanley. “Oh, that will be very fun! What are we doing just sitting around here then? Let’s get going!” The excitement was unexpected, but Stanley welcomed it with wide arms. He nodded, tucked his wallet into his pocket, took the keys, and left with the Narrator. He, of course, locked the door before they walked into town.

The Narrator stayed close to Stanley’s side as they walked back down the hill. Stanley in his work attire didn’t stick out that much, but the Narrator’s khaki checkered suit jacket, bright yellow tie, and violet glasses stood out a bit more. The town was small enough as well that people noticed the new face. No one said anything yet, at least.

The pair walked into the heart of town. It started to approach dinner time, so there was a small bustle of people heading out to restaurants with friends or family. The Narrator politely smiled as they walked past, but the crowds of people shook him slightly to the core. He wasn’t used to any group of people past one, and that one had to be Stanley for him to be comfortable. He instinctively held onto the man beside him, and Stanley adjusted the Narrator’s grip to hold his hand. The Narrator soon focused his attention on the stores and shops along the road and kept a gentle smile on his face.

Stanley looked around the road and walked past the restaurants. It would be fun to eat at one, but he didn’t want to make the Narrator feel left out if he couldn’t eat. In addition, Stanley figured the number of people and the noise could be too much for him. The plan was grocery shopping, so that’s what they would do for tonight.

After a bit more wandering and a couple of wrong turns, the pair finally arrived at a small grocery store. Stanley hoped it wouldn’t be too busy since everyone was already out at restaurants, and they could easily get what they needed. They entered the store, their hands still intertwined.

The sight of the store interested the Narrator, but it also made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. A shiver ran up his spine, and he froze in on the spot. Stanley noticed and gave him a questioning glance. The question quickly turned to concern as he noticed the slightly panicked expression on the Narrator’s face.

“I’m alright, Stanley. There are just… So many options.” The Narrator focused his attention on the man in front of him. ‘Just focus on Stanley,’ he told himself. ‘Stanley knows what to do.’ Before they left the facility, the Narrator told himself he would make his own choices. That could wait until tomorrow. 

Stanley watched him for a moment to make sure he was okay before he nodded and deeper into the store walked with the Narrator.

Stanley really should’ve made a list before they went out because even he was overwhelmed by the options. He figured he would just get some staples: milk, eggs, bread, butter, and meat too. He grabbed a cart at the start of their trip and pushed it around while looking down the aisles. The Narrator walked closely beside him and looked at the food on the shelves.

“Why are there so many options for the same food? This bread is all the same but in different bags. Not only is there an overabundance, but the prices are all different!! I don’t understand the need. Do they strive to overwhelm consumers?” The Narrator rambled on as the two paused in the bread aisle. Stanley nodded along, half listening to the speel. He looked through the options for only a few seconds before he grabbed a multigrain loaf on the cheaper side and dropped it into the cart.

“See, if they eliminate the different brands and instead focus on the variety of products, imagine all the new types of bread! There could be improved rye, sourdough, potato, spelt, and brioche. Oo! Maybe even malt loaves.” The Narrator spoke loudly, not accustomed to being in public. Stanley didn’t even notice anymore either.

“All of these different brands. It makes little sense to me.” The Narrator continued to ramble as they left the aisle. Stanley figured they should buy some canned soups to make dinners much easier, so they quickly turned and walked down another row.

Sure, the soups would make dinners easier, but they, unfortunately, threw the poor Narrator for a loop.

All kinds of soups were packed onto the shelves. There were only a handful of brands, but each sold at least fifty varieties. Of course, the brands repeated some of the same types, so there could be up to six options for one kind of soup. There was chicken noodle soup, classic chicken noodle soup, homestyle chicken noodle soup, creamy chicken noodle soup, and organic chicken noodle soup. Each brand had its own version of it.

The Narrator stood frozen in place. His throat felt tight, and his heart started to race. His usual rambling came to an immediate stop as he swallowed thickly. While the bread aisle also held a lot of options, the soups greatly outnumbered the variety. How was anyone supposed to pick what to get? If you choose one brand over another, how would you be sure you’re getting the best option? Would he and Stanley have to buy every single soup to know the best? What if they picked the wrong one? Where would they even start? Would they start with Old Fashioned Vegetable or Tomato? Would it be best to get Cream of Mushroom?

Stanley nudged the poor man and looked at him with concern. The Narrator was breathing harder than he expected since he was nearly hyperventilating. The Narrator tried to get a hold of himself and opened his mouth to speak. He couldn’t even make a sound as his throat tightened more. He tried to act casually and adjust his glasses, but his hands were trembling.

Stanley considered what he could do for a moment before he gently pulled the Narrator in a hug. He didn’t understand why the man was having a breakdown over soup, but hey, he wouldn’t judge. He also knew the Narrator would explain it to him after he relaxed. Stanley simply held the trembling man in his arms in the middle of the supermarket’s soup aisle.

“All these choices, Stanley. Why are there so many options and choices? Which is the correct one to make? How do I know?” The Narrator’s voice sounded slightly pathetic as he mumbled into his companion’s shoulder. Stanley hummed gently at the questions. 

Stanley nuzzled into the Narrator’s hair slightly and rubbed his back. He couldn’t speak words of comfort, so he tried to show his care as much as possible. He hoped he came across well enough.

It only happened a few times in the Parable where Stanley comforted a panicked Narrator. It was over certain endings and even once when he was beginning to question leaving. Stanley never knew if he was doing it right, but the Narrator reacted well enough.

“I said I wanted to make my own choices. I did, but now, I’m unsure if I can.” The Narrator muttered and caused Stanley to squeeze him tighter. 

‘You can,’ the hug said, ‘and if you can’t, I’ll help you.’ After all they’d been through, now wasn’t the time for self-doubt. Especially not after their escape. The hug said so much, and the two stayed together for a moment longer. Stanley nuzzled into the Narrator’s hair before the Narrator loosened his grip. The pair slowly separated, the Narrator now looking away from the soup wall. Stanley smiled gently and silently fixed the Narrator’s hair. 

Soup still seemed like a good idea for a quick dinner, so Stanley raised his pointer finger to the Narrator to signal that he needed a second to pick. The Narrator obliged and looked at the stuff in the cart as Stanley grabbed a few he felt they would enjoy. He still had no clue if the Narrator needed to eat, but it was the thought that counted.

Stanley set the cans into the cart and happily led the Narrator down another aisle. He started to scan each one before they entered to ensure it would not overwhelm the man accompanying him. If he thought it was too much, they simply passed the aisle altogether.

They continued through the store, but the Narrator's demeanor changed. He was quiet. He normally never could shut up, but now he wouldn’t say a thing. He stared at the cart or the ground more. Stanley noticed but didn’t bring it up. Not yet.

A few times, Stanley allowed the Narrator to pick up what they needed. Stanley mostly wanted to test the waters and see the limits. He noticed that even if he gestured to a general area of the product they needed, the Narrator picked the exact one Stanley ended up pointing to. They needed eggs, so Stanley gestured to the eggs, and the Narrator picked up the exact carton his hand ended on. Even if they were all the same, he still struggled. 

Stanley tried not to show his displeasure each time it happened. After the two times it happened, he stopped letting the Narrator pick. All because of that stupid soup. 

They approached the checkout, and Stanley set the groceries on the belt. The Narrator simply watched since he wasn’t sure of the proper technique or order or if the weight of each product mattered or…

“Stanley! It’s great to see you again, isn’t it?” The cashier grinned wide at him. The Narrator shot his eyes up and stared at the worker. Why did they know him? More importantly, why did Stanley warmly smile back? Did they know one another? Did Stanley recognize the person?

In truth, no. Stanley had no clue who this person was or why they knew this name. He just wanted to be polite. He prayed his memory would return to him quickly.

“How has work been going?” The worker focused his attention on Stanley before finally noticing the Narrator. “Oh, sick! Is this a new friend, Stan? Is he new at the office?”

Stan? Did they call him Stan ?

Stanley responded before the Narrator had enough time to consider an answer. He smiled politely and nodded. The Narrator stood in silence as he stared at the interaction.

He should speak out and ask the stranger about their connection to Stanley. But wait. That would be weird, wouldn’t it? He couldn’t just ask someone that. Imagine reconnecting with a friend and your friend’s new friend asked about who you were. Yeah, he absolutely couldn’t do that. He should at least say hello. Or was hello too formal? Maybe a hi or a hey? ‘Hey’ felt way too casual. The Narrator was never that casual. He never even said ‘hey’ to Stanley, so he absolutely couldn’t say hey to a stranger, but he had to say something. His silence was so rude.

“I have to say! I love your glasses! The purple is super cool. You don’t see many fun colored frames nowadays.” The worker continued to grin at the Narrator as they checked out the groceries.

‘Okay, that’s easy. Just say thank you, Narrator,’ he told himself. His mouth made no attempts to speak or even open. He would have to be careful with his tone. Something pleasant and appreciative. Should he add a ‘very much’ to the end too? Obviously, this was one of Stanley’s friends. He wanted to make a good first impr-

Good heavens! What if the worker was mocking him? What if they were picking fun at his uniquely colored glasses? The presumed complement could easily be an insult. Maybe a ‘very much’ would be too much. Who was this person to demean him anyways!? They just met and he thought Stanley and the worker were friends! He doubted Stanley would be friends with such cruel people. Maybe it was a compliment then. He believed his glasses were stylish and flashy. Yeah. He just had to say thank yo-

“Stan, you surely have a lot of quiet friends, don’t you?” The worker chuckled and returned his gaze to Stanley. They finished scanning the groceries, and Stanley put the bags into the cart for now.

‘I’m not quiet,’ the Narrator wanted to say. ‘I normally talk quite a lot, actually! Stanley could back me up on that.’ That probably would come across as rude, he considered. His silence was already rude enough, so he had to commit to it. Suddenly speaking would make the worker believe he didn’t respect them enough to say anything before. He certainly couldn’t have that. 

Yes. He was one of Stanley’s quiet friends. 

Stanley used his credit card to pay and nodded his thanks to the worker. With a smile, he waved and started to leave. He had to backtrack to tap the Narrator to draw him out of his thoughts before they left the store together. They each grabbed two bags and started back up toward home.

Thankfully, the bags weren’t terribly heavy to carry up the long path home. The Narrator stayed silent the whole time they walked, and his gaze was distant. His mind continued to race from the trip. His silence was very out of character. Stanley kept glancing at him, worried about the poor Narrator. He would pry more once they got home.

Stanley set one of the bags down to unlock the front door. He pushed it open with his hip and held it for the Narrator. He received a mumbled “thanks” but frowned. Once in the kitchen, the Narrator took the groceries out of the bag and set them on the counter. He didn’t know the proper places to put them, so the counter would have to do for now.

Stanley placed his bags on the ground and rested a hand on the Narrator’s shoulder. He looked at him with worry. The Narrator glanced back at him for a moment before sighing and placing his hand on top of Stanley’s.

“Yes, yes. I know I’m not acting like my usual self, Stanley. I don’t know what came over me.” The Narrator stared down at the groceries in the bags. He couldn’t bring himself to look Stanley in the eyes. “I completely froze up not once, but twice today.” He furrowed his brows as he thought about it. He hated how he reacted. It was so pathetic.

Stanley frowned at his reaction and pulled him into another hug. It wasn’t his fault he acted that way. The Narrator admitted that there were too many choices for him during his panic. He said he wanted to make choices on his own, but that didn’t mean Stanley couldn’t support him until he could. Through all the time together, Stanley knew that the Narrator was far too hard on himself. Everyone had their weakness, but the Narrator just criticized himself excessively. Not only that, but he cared so much about what others thought of him. Maybe he wasn’t ready to make choices on his own yet, but he had Stanley to help him. Stanley nuzzled into the Narrator’s hair and squeezed him tighter.

“I know, I know. I have you, and I am so so grateful. I just really wanted to be more independent. I figured escaping would be a fresh start, but... I’m still the same.” The Narrator sighed and leaned his cheek into Stanley’s shoulder. “I couldn’t even talk with your friend. It was your friend, right? They seemed to know you.”

Stanley shrugged gently. He recognized the face and acted kindly, but he couldn’t remember being great friends. Either way, it was water under the bridge for now. They should just focus on making sure the Narrator was okay. Stanley kept the Narrator in his comforting embrace for a moment before letting go carefully.

“I suppose we should put the groceries away finally, shouldn’t we?” The Narrator smoothed down his clothes and looked at the bags. Stanley smiled and nodded. He believed that the Narrator putting some groceries away would be a step in the right direction. He could decide where the food goes.

With a smile, they started to unpack the groceries. Stanley put away some of them, but he left the cabinets open for the Narrator. Instead of simply placing them in, the Narrator stood frozen while holding the boxes.

“Where should these go, Stanley?” He clutched the cereal boxes and glanced around at the open cabinets. The Narrator looked back for guidance. Instead of pointing, Stanley shrugged. He wanted to see what the older gentleman would do. In response, the Narrator ‘hm’d and looked at the cabinets. After minutes of contemplation, he set the boxes neatly on a shelf.

Stanley beamed and clapped gently. Look at that!! He made a choice on his own! He patted the Narrator’s shoulder in pride.

“Oh, Stanley, don’t get too excited. The boxes are too tall for the other shelves. This is the only one where they fit.” The Narrator looked back at Stanley after correcting him, but he smiled. He appreciated the silent praise. Despite being way overexcited, Stanley kept a smile on his face. It still was a good step that he noticed that! Every victory mattered, no matter how small.

After a while, they finally worked through all of the groceries. The Narrator put a few things away but took minutes to figure out where they went. He kept similar things together which helped to organize and steer his choices. Stanley gave him a little pat on the shoulder each time he put things in their new places. Stanley put some groceries away too, but mostly let the Narrator figure it out on his own.

“You certainly aren’t much help around the house, Stanley. I basically did this all on my own!” The Narrator washed his hands as he lightly complained. He, of course, didn’t see Stanley’s plan or very valid reasons why he didn’t help. 

Stanley only smiled and nodded before approaching the Narrator from behind and hugging him. He rested his chin on the Narrator’s shoulder and grinned wide. ‘You did great,’ his toothy grin and hug told the older man. He grumbled under his breath about the gesture but didn’t try to remove Stanley at all.

The Narrator washed his hands for a few minutes, the hug distracting him. Stanley took the opportunity to look around the kitchen. Right over the sink, another window faced the field at the top of the hill. He would never get sick of that sight. His attention soon shifted as he noticed a calendar hanging on the side of the fridge.

May. Apparently, it was May. Or at least it was May before the Parable. A few of the days had scribblings in them with different colored pens. One said, ‘doctor’s appointment 3:15,’ and another read, ‘dinner 6:30 @ Harris’s.’ Interesting. Had he missed them? His curiosity caused him to pull away from the Narrator and look closer at the calendar.

The months before May had writing on them too. More appointments and birthdays and dinners and lunch meetings and names Stanley didn’t recognize. Had he really gone to all of these events? Why didn’t he remember them? The Narrator walked to join Stanley after drying his hands. 

“Well, that’s curious. You seem rather popular, Stanley!” The Narrator looked at the different colored writing as Stanley flipped through the calendar. “It’s a shame you probably missed all of it. I’m certain dinner at ‘Harris’s’ would have been delightful.”

Stanley paused. What day even was it? What month was it? Was it possible that he didn’t miss the dinner or his doctor’s appointment? He stayed in place for a moment before he opened the fridge. The milk had an expiration date. He pulled it out and scanned the jug.

May 23. His answer was printed on the plastic, albeit faded and slightly tilted. Still holding the milk, he returned beside the Narrator to look at the calendar. It had to be earlier in the month, but he wasn’t sure by how many days. It was still May. All the time passed in the Parable, but it was still May.

That couldn’t be possible. 

Stanley shook his head at his own thoughts and returned the milk to the fridge. Maybe it had been a couple of years. It must have been. The dinner at Harris’s was on the 20th, but that was probably years ago. If he tried to go to the meal, he was sure he would show up to an empty house or confused residents. Never mind the fact he had no clue who Harris even was. 

“Stanley? Are you alright?” The Narrator watched Stanley with concern. Stanley focused back on the Narrator with wide eyes and tense shoulders. They exchanged the stare for a moment before Stanley blinked quickly a few times. Yeah. He was alright. Maybe not that second, but he knew he would be soon.

Stanley was convinced that the Narrator was magic. At least a little bit. Some of his powers over the parable must have carried into real life. He always knew the right time to say things and ask questions in order to help pull Stanley from his thoughts. 

“Were you going to prepare something for dinner? We went shopping because you were hungry if I recall correctly. Are you still feeling hungry?” The Narrator glanced at the calendar for another moment before stepping away. He decided it was enough thinking about the date for today, whatever day it might be. He smiled once Stanley followed him.

“Do you know how to cook?” Questioned the Narrator. Stanley tilted his hand from side to side in front of him. He kind of knew how to, but he also had a bit of help. He walked to the dining room and the shelf beside the living room walkway. Stanley remembered seeing something perfect for this when he walked around the house earlier. The Narrator curiously peeked at him as he grabbed a book and returned to the kitchen. He held it out to the Narrator.

“ From my Table to Yours ?” He read the title out loud and raised an eyebrow. “Ah, is this one of those cookbooks? They tell you the recipes?” The Narrator received a smile and a nod from Stanley.

Stanley realized something. This book would be a dream come true for the Narrator. Picking a recipe would be absolute hell for the old gent, but they gave exact measurements and precise descriptions of the steps. Cooking with him might end up being really fun!

After flipping through the book with the Narrator standing on his toes to look over his shoulder, he came across a relatively easy recipe they could make with everything they had. Stanley would have to look at the recipes before going out next time to ensure they had all the ingredients. 

“One Pot Chicken Parmesan Pasta? Oh, the picture does look rather delicious.” The Narrator mumbled the steps to himself as he scanned over the page. “It doesn’t sound too difficult either! I’m sure we could make it without much struggle. As long as we have everything, of course.”

Stanley smiled wide. He didn’t need to attempt to convince the Narrator to help. Maybe the Narrator would even eat some too. Stanley set the book down on the counter and gathered the ingredients from around the kitchen. After a moment of watching Stanley, the Narrator started to help. 

Even though Stanley wanted the Narrator to help, he did most of the preparation himself. He didn’t trust the Narrator to use a knife yet without cutting himself, so he tasked him with stirring the pot most of the time. It wasn’t that dangerous, after all. The Narrator also seemed to enjoy his job, so that was another positive. 

After around an hour of cooking and several short moments of confusion, dinner was prepared with thankfully no injuries in the process. Everything went smoother than Stanley had expected, but he certainly did not mind it. He pulled two plates from the cabinet and served up dinner.

“That smells delicious, Stanley! I think we did an outstanding job. You’ll have to tell me how it tastes!” The Narrator smiled at Stanley and turned his attention to the two plates. “I suppose one of those is for me?” His smile wavered for just a moment. He never ate before. He never had to.

Stanley nodded with a grin. He walked with the two plates to the overly cluttered table, forgetting the state it was in. After a moment of contemplation, he turned back to the kitchen and handed them to the Narrator. 

“Wha-?” The Narrator stared at the two plates that were shoved into his hands as Stanley walked back to the table. He followed after Stanley with the plates, unsure what his plan was.

Stanley started to move the stacks of paper away from another spot beside the already cleared one. He precariously placed folders and books onto other stacks which made the Narrator cringe. It wasn’t stable in the slightest, but Stanley didn’t pay that a lot of mind.

“Stanley! It’s going to fall, you can’t leave it like that!” The Narrator quickly set the plates down at the two open spots and swiftly grabbed half of one of the stacks before it toppled over. 

“I can’t believe you thought that would be fine, Stanley. We should really declutter a little here. What even are these?” The Narrator looked for a spot to set them, eventually settling on pulling a chair out slightly and placing them there. There really weren’t any other spots open. He grabbed one folder from the top of the stack and opened it to investigate.

What was inside disappointed the Narrator. It was all just files and forms with a bunch of numbers on them. Some charts were on the pages too, but it was mainly tables of data. It might be for Stanley’s job, figured the Narrator. 

“Are these important, Stanley? They probably shouldn’t be so thrown about if they are.” The Narrator set the folder back down on the pile. Stanley never phased him as someone who would be so messy, and the table greatly contrasted with how the rest of the house was kept. 

Stanley walked over to the Narrator and picked the folder back up. He looked into it and shrugged. He had no idea what it was nor if it was important or not. Never mind that though. He set it back down to worry about later and returned to the clean side of the table. Stanley smiled and pulled out a chair for the Narrator.

“Oh? For me?” It took a moment for the Narrator to realize what Stanley was doing. Stanley nodded at him with a goofy grin on his face. “That’s very kind of you, Stanley! Thank you.” The Narrator sat in the chair and Stanley pushed it in before sitting in his own spot. 

The food sat in front of the two and it admittedly smelt really good. Stanley smiled wide at it but looked at the Narrator before he started to dig in. The older man stared at the pasta in front of him with a concerned expression. His hands were folded in his lap and his shoulders were tense.

Stanley raised an eyebrow and gently nudged him with his foot. When the Narrator looked at him, Stanley picked up his fork and gestured to the food.

“Stanley.. I don’t eat. I think you know that as well as I do. I don’t eat food.” His tone was gentle almost as if he thought Stanley would get frustrated with him for not trying what they made. Instead, he just huffed in response and gestured harder.

“I don’t understand what you want me to do, Stanley! I don’t eat!” The Narrator watched as Stanley gestured more, but he couldn’t interpret his motivations. The lack of communication was coming back to bite them as it often did.

Stanley sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He took a little bit of it on his fork and ate it. It was only a small amount just so he could taste it. He then looked at the Narrator. The Narrator only raised an eyebrow in response. 

Plan B. Be more assertive. Stanley picked up a small amount of the pasta, making sure to include a piece of chicken as well, with his fork. He then held it out to the Narrator directly. The Narrator was utterly baffled by all of the events going on.

“Stanley, I-!” As he opened his mouth to speak, Stanley shoved the fork into his mouth. He just wanted the Narrator to try it, even if he didn’t eat normally. He caught the poor man completely off guard. Despite the initial surprise, Stanley’s plan worked. The Narrator slowly started to chew the small sampling.

“Oh.. I suppose this is rather delicious. We did an awfully good job, didn’t we? I must admit, that was rather rude of you though.” The Narrator grabbed a napkin from the table and gently wiped his mouth. Stanley beamed and nodded. Content with his achievement, Stanley began to eat happily. 

Despite tasting a little bit of the dinner and enjoying it, the Narrator didn’t eat any more of it. He tried it like Stanley wanted, but he wasn’t completely comfortable eating a full meal. He stared down at the plate as Stanley ate. Should he try a bit more? Maybe he would need to eat. It wouldn’t hurt, right? But what if it did?

Another nudge from Stanley under the table pulled the Narrator from his endless questioning. Stanley’s expression was full of worry.

“Ah. I promise I am alright, Stanley. Just thinking over everything.” He glanced at the plate again before returning his eyes to Stanley to continue. “I didn’t die when I ate so I can clearly eat, but what will it do to my body? Can my body fully process food? We know that you are human, but I know I am not. Not that I know what I am.” His comment incited a small chuckle from Stanley, but he continued on.

“I do not want to push my luck with food right now. Not that I dislike our meal! Not at all! My hesitance comes from a concern for this body of mine. I lasted how many years without even a drop of water. Solid food is a huge step away from that.” Stanley nodded along even though he didn’t fully understand what the man was rambling about.

“In addition, we still do not know if I need food at all. I would say that I haven’t gotten hungry, but I don’t even know what that would feel like! I feel as if we are safely able to say that I don’t need to eat.” Stanley’s disappointed expression caused him to pause and sigh.

“Okay. I still will not eat full meals, but I will at least taste them.”

Stanley smiled gently at the Narrator. He wasn’t sure why he was so insistent to get the Narrator to eat alongside him. Maybe it was because he didn’t remember the last time he shared a meal with someone. Maybe he just wanted their hard work to be appreciated and enjoyed. It was hard to narrow it down, but the Narrator eating even just a little was enough for now.

The Narrator talked as Stanley ate dinner. The conversation darted around to a few topics, but Stanley didn’t mind in the slightest. He appreciated the discussion and the company above all else. Plus the homemade food was definitely a positive too.

“What should we do tomorrow, Stanley? Today we went to the store and made dinner, while also escaping the office building earlier today! We accomplished a lot for our first day here!”

Stanley hadn’t thought ahead that much. The calendar was still stuck in the back of his head. Was he supposed to have dinner with Harris, whoever that might be, tomorrow? Or was it a few days from now? Or years ago? He quickly shoved those thoughts further back and gave the Narrator a shrug.

“Now that isn’t very helpful,” huffed the Narrator before he looked more around the dining room. 

Stanley finished not long after. He stood up after he was done, picked up his empty plate as well as the Narrator’s full one, and carried them both to the kitchen. It wasn’t long before the Narrator stood up and trailed after him to clean up.

Everything from dinner, and its preparation, was cleaned up in no time. Much to Stanley’s surprise, the Narrator offered to help and did an amazing job washing the dishes. The extra help around the house certainly would be appreciated. Their combined efforts made the cleaning quick and almost effortless.

“Well that experience was rather fun, wouldn’t you agree Stanley? The cooking, the meal, and even the cleaning were all quite pleasant.” The Narrator smiled and stretched.

Stanley nodded happily and finished putting away the clean dishes. He glanced out the window at the now dark night sky. The sight caused him to yawn. They definitely did a lot today and experienced a few too many emotions. Both he and the Narrator deserved a nice rest.

The Narrator, upon seeing Stanley yawn, yawned as well. It happened a few times during the Parable, but the Narrator felt his exhaustion now. The stresses of the day weighed on him as well. Compared to the Parable where he mostly had control of everything, now life was unpredictable and wild. The Narrator would absolutely need some time to get used to that.

After watching the Narrator yawn too, Stanley made the executive decision that it was bedtime. The pair had been through a lot that day. If they deserved anything after the long arduous day, it was a nice comfy bed and an at least 8-hour rest. Stanley grabbed the Narrator’s hand and pulled him along to the stairs.

“Stanley? Where are we going? What are you planning?” The Narrator trailed after him willingly. He knew Stanley at least had an idea of something to do. Plus, Stanley (almost) never led him astray.

The two of them walked up the stairs and eventually to the bedroom. Stanley let his hand go once they were there and he let himself fall back onto the bed with a gentle smile.

Instead of immediately joining him, the Narrator took a moment to look around the room. The paintings on the walls were beautifully done and the colors of the room were absolutely delightful. Maybe some of them clashed, but the Narrator enjoyed them nonetheless. After a bit of looking around, he found himself at the window. 

The moon shone brightly outside and the stars twinkled. The man who normally never stopped talking was speechless. It was gorgeous. The stars dotted the pitch-black sky and formed constellations the Narrator didn’t even know existed. The starry dome of the Parable could not even start to compare to the real night sky.

After a moment, Stanley stood beside him. Since the Narrator was so enthralled by the sky beyond the window, he hadn’t noticed Stanley get up or even walk over. The real night sky was beautiful to Stanley too, but he couldn’t help to stare at the Narrator. His expression was full of wonder and the stars reflected in his eyes. Stanley smiled fondly and stayed next to him to silence.

“Oh, dear. I didn’t even notice you come over, Stanley!” The Narrator finally commented after almost five minutes after Stanley joined him. “Isn’t it just beautiful out there? Who would have guessed this is what real stars look like?” He spoke barely over a whisper, and Stanley nodded along.

They stood there together for five more minutes in silence before the Narrator yawned. He wished he could stay there and stare at the sky for hours, but his body grew more and more exhausted.

Stanley looked at him with a gentle smile and patted his shoulder. Now was really bedtime. He stepped away from the window and his Narrator to head to his wardrobe. He certainly didn’t want to sleep in his work clothes and he was sure the Narrator would enjoy something a bit more comfortable. 

It took some digging for Stanley to find a pair of pajamas for himself and even longer to find something for the Narrator. His PJs were simple enough, consisting of shorts and an old t-shirt with a logo he didn’t recognize. For the Narrator, he found some older clothes that would hopefully fit him. At that moment, he decided that tomorrow they would definitely shop for clothes.

“Stanley, I don’t mean to be rude, but your wardrobe is rather bland... And small.” The Narrator held up some of the clothes Stanley pulled out for him. All of the clothes Stanley grabbed, and even those still in the closet, were shades of grey, brown, or beige. Absolutely none of the pants would fit, but he could maybe squeeze into a shirt or sweatshirt. 

Stanley frowned apologetically. They would get better clothes soon, but they had to work with what they had for now. Stanley held up one finger and shrugged.

“I suppose it is only one night. You are right, Stanley. I shouldn’t be so negative.” The Narrator smiled and pulled his tie off, followed by his checkered suit jacket. Stanley nodded along, accidentally looking at him the moment the Narrator started to unbutton his shirt. Stanley’s face flushed red and he scrambled to grab his pajamas. He quickly tried to gesture to the Narrator that he would change in the bathroom before darting away.

“Hm? I wonder what that was about.” The Narrator shrugged it off and got changed. He opted to  leave his pants on since Stanley didn’t have a suitable replacement for them.

By the time Stanley cooled down, got changed, and returned to the bedroom, The Narrator already was in bed. He was sitting up and flipping through the pages of a book he pulled from the bedside table. He glanced over and smiled.

“Hello again, Stanley! I hope you don’t mind that I was taking a peek into this book. I didn’t move the bookmark, I promise.” The Narrator shut the book and returned his full attention to Stanley, who still remained in the doorway. He raised an eyebrow at Stanley’s frozen stance for a moment.

“Oh! Am I in your spot? My apologies, Stanley.” The Narrator set the book back on the bedside table and scooted over to the side furthest from the door. Thankfully, there was another small bedside table on that side where the Narrator could place his glasses.

Despite him moving away from Stanley’s assumed spot, Stanley stayed in the doorway for another moment before approaching the bed. He situated himself under the covers and glanced at the Narrator. He never shared a bed with anyone before (at least he didn’t remember) so he felt the awkwardness crawling all over his skin.

Thankfully, the Narrator didn’t feel it.

“No worries, Stanley. I’ll stay on my side of the bed. I won’t even nudge you!” The Narrator smiled at him before taking his glasses off and setting them on the bedside table. He slowly settled down and laid down in the bed with his back facing Stanley.

“Just please turn off the lamp when you are ready for bed!” 

Stanley stared at him for a moment. He watched his side rise and fall as he breathed. He looked at the way the pillow displaced his usually perfect hair. The Narrator looked so… human. After staring and observing for longer than he needed to, Stanley turned the lamp off. 

Chapter Text

The sun spilled into the room around 7 am, yet the placement of the bed resulted in the men thankfully avoiding the blinding light. In truth, the light would not have affected them either way due to their sleeping positions. The Narrator had his head buried in Stanley’s chest, and Stanley’s face was nuzzled in the Narrator’s hair. Their legs were intertwined with one another, and they slept better than they ever had as a result of their closeness.

Stanley was the first to start to stir. Instinctively, he squeezed the Narrator a bit tighter and hid his face further in his hair. He relaxed again and slowly opened his eyes.

The Narrator lay cuddled close to Stanley’s chest, with their legs tangled together. He gripped Stanley’s shirt as he snored lightly. He looked so amazingly peaceful. Stanley smiled wide and rested his chin on the top of the Narrator’s head. He figured they could stay in bed a bit longer.

It didn’t take long for the Narrator to slowly wake up as well. He nuzzled into Stanley’s chest before stretching ever so slightly. Their closeness proved stretching to be rather awkward, so the Narrator could only stretch his legs out much like a cat. Stanley laughed and planted a kiss in the Narrator’s hair, causing him to chuckle sleepily.

“Well, good morning, dear Stanley.” The Narrator pulled ever so slightly away from Stanley to smile at him. Stanley smiled back and took the opportunity to stretch since they separated.

Since both of them were now awake, The Narrator rolled over and reached for his glasses on the bedside table. He eventually found them and put them on as he sat up. His hair was disheveled and the clothes he wore were riddled with deep wrinkles. It definitely was a rare look for him that caused Stanley to stare for a few moments.

“I suppose we should get this day started now.” The Narrator stretched his arms and looked at Stanley. Stanley protested and pulled the covers over his head. He didn’t want to get up just yet.

“Oh, Stanley, we can’t stay in bed forever,” Stanley swiftly pulled the covers down and shot him a questioning glance. “I mean, we technically could…

“But we have other stuff to do, right?” Stanley shrugged in response and covered his head back up. He was too tired to think about all that now, but the Narrator dug deeper into his response. Was he being rude to disregard Stanley’s exhaustion? His eyebrows furrowed as he thought about it further.

Maybe Stanley was right. The bed was very comfortable and the closeness they shared was rather nice. Maybe the Narrator rushed getting up too much. They could spend some more time together. It wouldn’t completely throw the day’s plans off either (whatever those were).

“Alright, Stanley. We can stay in bed a little longer.” The Narrator removed the glasses that he just put on and slid under the covers again. Excitedly, Stanley scooched closer to him and wrapped his arms around the Narrator. He happily nuzzled into the crook of his neck, causing the Narrator to chuckle gently, before the two relaxed together again.

About an hour passed before Stanley finally figured it was time to get up. Neither man got any extra sleep, but the shared embrace let them both relax for just a bit longer. Stanley hugged the Narrator tightly again for a moment before he let go and slowly pushed himself up to sit.

“Hm…? Ah. I suppose we should get up now.” The Narrator eventually joined Stanley and sat up. It took some time for him to find his glasses again before he put them on. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses and looked at a now clear Stanley. He chuckled lightly at the sight of Stanley’s bedhead, which only caused Stanley to smirk and ruffle the Narrator’s already messy hair.

“Hey!” The Narrator batted Stanley’s hand away and attempted to fix his hair. Stanley only chuckled and got out of bed. He didn’t care how his hair was since he needed a shower anyway. He should probably get the Narrator to shower eventually at some point too.

Stanley walked over to his closet and searched for an outfit for the upcoming day. The Narrator slowly got out of bed as well and stretched, his bones creaking slightly as he did. He already knew Stanley wouldn’t have any clothes for him, so he picked up his neatly folded outfit from yesterday.

“Did you figure out a plan for today yet, Stanley?” The Narrator glanced at Stanley as he pulled his shirt off to get changed. Stanley nodded gently and pulled out some clothes for himself. He figured they would get some clothes for the Narrator and clean the house up a little. It wouldn’t carry them for the full day, but it would occupy them for at least half.

The Narrator buttoned up his shirt as Stanley headed toward the bathroom. He set his clothes down on the counter and began to brush his teeth. As he did, he pulled out a towel and made sure he had shampoo and other toiletries. 

“What are you doing, Stanley?” The Narrator finished tightening his tie and peeked into the bathroom. Stanley was thankful he wasn’t naked yet.

Stanley pointed to the toothbrush sticking out of his mouth before pointing at the shower. He couldn’t even recall the last time he showered or cleaned himself up, but he quickly shut that thought down. From yesterday, Stanley learned that it was easier if he didn’t think about how long it had been since he did anything. It confused his brain and caused him to question a little too much.

“Cleaning yourself up?” The Narrator’s question received a nod. “I do have a quick question before you get started if that is alright. Do you, by chance, have a kettle and any tea?” 

Stanley already knew this question was coming. The Narrator normally always had a mug with him in the Parable, and thankfully, there was some tea in the house.

Stanley quickly finished brushing his teeth and led the Narrator downstairs. He pulled the kettle from the stove top and filled it with more water. After setting it on a burner, he grabbed a tea tin from the cabinet. It contained an assortment of bags, so hopefully, the Narrator would find something enjoyable in it.

“Thank you, Stanley. Would you like any as well? I can pour it for you when the water finishes boiling.” The Narrator turned the burner on under the kettle, but Stanley shook his head. He was more of a coffee person himself, but even then, he was okay for now. Stanley also opened up one of the cabinets for the Narrator, which was full of differently sized and colored mugs.

“Wow. You have quite the collection, don’t you?” The Narrator looked into the cabinet and grabbed one. It was right at the front and was coincidently his favorite color, yellow. Stanley flashed him a quick smile and patted his shoulder before heading back upstairs to shower.

The Narrator smiled wide at him as he left. He turned his attention back to the tea, opened the tin, and looked inside. There were several different kinds of tea bags with differing flavors. Thankfully, they at least all seemed like black tea.

That’s where the praises ended, though. There were so many different flavor options and some of the tea bag labels didn’t even have the flavor on them, they only had the tea company’s name. The Narrator desperately wanted to know whose idea that was since it was a really really stupid one. 

He searched through the bags for an Earl Grey, his favorite kind of tea. He found one... And then another. At least they were from the same brand - oh wait. There was another Earl Grey from a different brand in the tin too. The Narrator sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, lifting his purple-framed glasses slightly in the process. Of course, he just had to dig around and get himself stuck.

He set the options on the counter. Three bags, two being the same brand. There would probably be a difference between those two even if it was the same manufacturer. Back in the Parable, it was so easy. He would just spawn in his own tea bags. Every single one would be perfect. Oh, what he would give to be able to do that again. 

Well… In truth, he hadn’t tried to summon them yet. Maybe he didn’t have to deal with any of this! He put his hand out and snapped with the same hand. He waited for something to fall in his hand, but nothing did. The Narrator looked at his hand and tried again. Still nothing. He huffed in frustration and painstakingly returned his attention to the normal, human-made teabags on the counter.

The Narrator spent longer than any normal person would to contemplate the tea choices. He smelled the aromas, which all smelt pretty much the same, and tested each in his hands to compare the weights, which were also identical. He frowned and tossed one of the bags from the same company back into the tin. His tests concluded they were the same, after all.

That left two. The two bags sat side by side on the counter with about six centimeters of space between them. The Narrator stared at them, almost glaring between the bags. The tea kettle hissed weakly, the water just starting to boil. He needed to make his decision rather quickly.

Aha! He finally got an idea of something that would help him. All he had to do was think like the person who made the most decisions, he had to think like Stanley.

“Now... I have two options. Twinings’ on the right and Harvey’s on the left. If I was Stanley,” he paused and stared at them for a moment, “I would obviously choose the left! Harvey’s it is.” The Narrator smiled wide and put the bag in the mug. He returned the other one to the tin and put it into the cabinet. The Narrator beamed, prideful of the fact he made a decision on his own (even though it wasn’t entirely his).

Right on cue, the kettle started to whistle. The Narrator took it off of the heat, opened the cap, and poured the hot water into the mug. Much like usual, he left some room for milk. He set a timer for the usual 5 minutes to let the tea brew and leaned against the counter.

The Narrator took the time to look around the kitchen, but he eventually focused on the fridge. His eyes were immediately drawn to the calendar on the side of it. He considered ignoring it, but his curiosity got the better of him.

He walked over to the side of the fridge and stared at the calendar. The Narrator hesitated for a moment before slowly removing it from the hook and starting to flip through the past months. 

All of them were littered with events, appointments, and dinner dates with people. There were even some birthdays on the calendar. Had Stanley done all of these things? That couldn’t have been the case. Maybe the Narrator coded this place and all of Stanley’s memories and just forgot about them. 

Maybe he coded everything out here and forgot about it. 

Maybe he wasn’t free at all.

Well… That’s enough thinking about that. 

The Narrator hung the calendar back up on May and made his way to the front of the fridge. It had a lot of little magnets on it and most interestingly, small word magnets. The Narrator smiled gently at the possibility to get his mind off of the calendar. He was a writer after all! He could make a fancy little sentence or two.

‘The end is never the end it is just the beginning’ 

The Narrator smiled at his handiwork and his little spin on his own phrase. While at the fridge, he also pulled the milk out in preparation for when his tea would finish. He returned to the counter by his tea just in time to hear Stanley coming downstairs.

Stanley entered the kitchen in something that the Narrator would never imagine him in. He wore a gray sweatshirt and black jeans. It was entirely different and much more casual than the Narrator was used to. Seeing him without the same plaid dress shirt was very odd, to say the least.

“Woah. This is different.” The Narrator stared at him, but quickly caught himself. “Not that it is a bad change, Stanley!! I just thought that you only had one outfit option.” Stanley smirked and only pointed at the Narrator in response.

“Okay, okay. No need to punch down, Stanley. I am only wearing the same outfit because I don’t have anything else to wear.” The Narrator smiled, and the two men shared a laugh. The beeping of the timer interrupted their laughter and the Narrator removed the teabag from his mug. 

“I must admit though, you do look really nice in something more casual. I should’ve given you something like this in the Parable. I’m sure you would have enjoyed it a lot then too.” As the Narrator spoke, he threw the tea bag in the trash and added a splash of milk to his mug. Stanley nodded along in agreement, but it was definitely too late to do anything about stuff that happened in the Parable now.

The Narrator hummed to himself as he started to search for a spoon to stir his tea, opening a few drawers as he looked. Stanley chuckled, opened one drawer which was the furthest from the Narrator, and handed him a long spoon to use.

“Ah thank you, Stanley. I doubt I would have made it over there.” He stirred the tea and took a sip. It was alright but not nearly as good as his tea. It would have to do for now though, so he sucked it up and took another sip.

“So I assume you considered our course of action for today?” The Narrator held his mug in both hands as he asked. Stanley beamed and nodded excitedly. He pointed at the Narrator’s clothes and then his own. The cogs turned in the Narrator’s head for a moment before he attempted to decipher the gesture.

“Something with my outfit?” His guess received a nod and another point to Stanley’s clothes. “Alright… Let’s see. Something about your clothes and my clothes. Well, you changed your outfit, is that similar to what you are hinting towards?” 

Stanley nodded excitedly. While on the way to the grocery store the day before, the pair passed by a small male’s boutique that was full of different sweaters, jackets, and suits. Stanley figured it would be the perfect place for the Narrator.

“Ahha! Are we going to get some new clothes for me today, Stanley? Oh, that would be just delightful!” The Narrator smiled wide and took a long sip from his mug. “Though, I am not sure if I could pull off something casual like you.” Stanley smiled gently and shrugged. He would have to convince him to get at least one sweatshirt, just for a test.

The Narrator quickly finished up his tea and headed to the bathroom to tidy his appearance up. He tried to smooth down his clothes as much as possible to look presentable, but his attempts were mostly in vain. At least he would get new clothes soon enough.

He excitedly came back downstairs after he cleaned himself up to the best of his ability. Stanley was waiting for him with his wallet and keys ready. He smiled at the Narrator, quickly fixed and smoothed the older gentleman’s collar, and left with him to head into town.

The Narrator stayed close to Stanley, and they walked in and around town. He kept a tight grip on his hand as he glanced around at everyone walking about. The sight of so many people, even though there weren’t more than a dozen, unsettled the Narrator deeply. Stanley noticed and squeezed the Narrator’s hand tighter as they approached the shop.

“Oh, this looks rather charming.” The Narrator took a moment to stare in the display window at the front of the store. It showed off three male mannequins, all wearing something the Narrator would be more than happy to wear himself. After looking at the window for a moment, Stanley pulled him along and they entered the shop.

“Good morning, gentlemen! Is there anything I can help you with today?” The woman behind the counter smiled at them as they entered. The Narrator stared at her as he weighed his options of what he could say. Stanley knew he would be stuck like this for the foreseeable future, so he gave the worker a thumbs up, which she thankfully understood.

“Alright, perfect. Just let me know if you have any questions!” She smiled and returned her attention to typing something on the computer on the counter. The Narrator let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding before looking around the shop.

“Oh, this is nice..” The Narrator spoke barely above a whisper at first. He kept his hand in Stanley’s as the pair started to walk around the shop. 

Stanley’s assumption that the Narrator would love the clothes was 100% correct. The Narrator’s pupils were wide with interest as he looked around at the mannequins and the clothes hung up neatly on the racks. 

“Stanley, look!” The Narrator chuckled and pointed to a pair of mannequins, “I think your wife left you for another man.”  The male had a nice turtleneck sweater and jeans, while the female beside it wore a wonderful dress with an advertisement for a nearby shop. Stanley pouted at first, but he caught onto the Narrator’s contagious laughter, and they spent a few short moments laughing.

The worker glanced at the pair briefly and raised an eyebrow in confusion at the odd inside joke, but thankfully neither Stanley nor the Narrator noticed. 

The pair returned to looking at clothes once they calmed down. The Narrator looked around but didn’t grab anything off of the racks. Stanley, on the other hand, grabbed a few things for the Narrator to try on and possibly buy. He figured he knew the man’s taste enough, but he also picked a few that he personally would like to see the Narrator in.

After looking around a bit longer, Stanley approached the Narrator and held out the clothes he picked before pointing to the dressing room.

“Ah. Did you pick some things out for me? That’s very kind of you, Stanley! I was… having some issues doing that myself.” Stanley knew he was, but Stanley was happy to help like always. He smiled encouragingly at the Narrator.

“Seriously, thank you so much, Stanley. I’ll go try them out right now!” The Narrator smiled wide and happily took the clothes. He walked into the dressing room excitedly and started the process of trying the clothes on.

The process took around half an hour, but both Stanley and the Narrator were having an amazing time. Stanley pleasantly surprised the Narrator with his clothing choices. It was a nice mix of dress shirts, sweaters, vests, some nice jackets, jeans and dress pants, and even a sweatshirt Stanley snuck in. Stanley even managed to find a nice matching pair of pajamas. Much to the older man’s enjoyment, everything also was warm shades of yellow and brown. He definitely enjoyed it more than Stanley’s grayscale wardrobe. 

During the try-on process, the Narrator happily showed off the outfits to Stanley as he tried them on. Each outfit got the Stanley seal of approval each and every time. The Narrator enjoyed the sweatshirt more than he was expecting, even just for home wear, but it was quickly approved by both parties as well.

After the fashion show and both Stanley and the Narrator approving the clothes chosen, the pair tried to narrow down the options. With the Narrator’s choice anxiety, Stanley’s bias toward the outfits, and the need for clothes, Stanley just decided to buy everything. They did go through the entire process of trying them on already, after all.

“Ooo. You both made some very nice choices today!” The worker spoke happily to Stanley and the Narrator after they brought everything up to the counter. Stanley smiled pleasantly at the worker, while the Narrator tried his hardest to avoid eye contact.

The worker continued to attempt and make some kind of conversation, which Stanley tried his hardest to respond to. Smiles, nods, and gestures took up his half of the conversation. On the other hand, the Narrator only stared at his shoes and fidgeted with the sleeve of his suit jacket.

“Alright! You are all set then, you two! Thank you so much for stopping in, I hope to see you both soon!” The worker smiled as she gave Stanley the bag full of clothes. He smiled and nodded his thanks.

The Narrator was so stuck in his own thoughts that he barely noticed the conversation taking place. He zoned out as he stared at the floor.

Why didn’t he say anything to the worker? He easily could have spoken to her, but he froze up. He left Stanley, the mute one, to ‘speak’ with her. The Narrator was being so utterly rude to both Stanley and the worker. 

Stanley put a hand on the Narrator’s shoulder to pull him out of his thoughts. He looked at him with concern, but the Narrator smiled weakly in return. With a sigh, Stanley led the two out of the store.

Stanley hoped that he could pull the Narrator aside once they got out, just so they could have a little check-in, but unfortunately that wasn’t possible. The street was full of people. It was right around noon, so there were a lot of people shopping around, heading to lunch, or just bustling about.

A breath caught in the Narrator’s throat as he looked at everything. There were so many people and so so much noise. Stanley glanced at him and understood immediately. They needed to get home right now.

Stanley grabbed the Narrator’s hand and started to lead him along the edge of the crowd. He kept the Narrator closest to the buildings and furthest from the street and outer sidewalk, where the majority of people were. Stanley walked quickly, but tried not to move too fast for the Narrator.

‘You are okay. You will be okay. I’m right here.’ Stanley’s hand told the Narrator. The Narrator stared at his feet as he walked. His ears were ringing from the noise and his beginning panic, but he knew he had Stanley there. Stanley would keep him safe.

Just as long as he had Stanley with hi-...

Wait.

Where did Stanley’s hand go?

The Narrator stared down at his now empty hand that was intertwined with Stanley’s just a few moments ago. He stopped walking and glanced up. 

Where was Stanley? 

“Stanley!! Holy shit! It’s you! You’ve been gone for a few days. Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Someone was speaking, rather yelling through the crowd, but the Narrator heard it like it was said in an entirely different room. It still was enough to grab his attention and caused him to glance around the crowd. He couldn’t see Stanley at all. Everything felt like it was in slow motion except his pulse pounding in his chest. He subconsciously backed up into the cover of a storefront in an attempt to get away from the crowd.

Where was Stanley? 

The Narrator’s throat became dry and tight. The combination of his pulse and blood pumping overwhelmed his ears. His hands were trembling, and his vision was quickly becoming blurry.

Where the hell was Stanley?

He tried to look out at the quickly blurring crowd as he attempted to yell out Stanley’s name. He could barely hear his own voice. Did he even yell anything at all?

Stanley. He needed Stanley.

“Sir! Are you okay?!” Someone from the crowd noticed his panicked state and ran up to him. Her voice was muffled to the point where the Narrator barely understood what she said. 

“Stanley... I need Stanley..” The Narrator weakly mumbled. He could barely hear himself speak. He didn’t even know if he said anything at all.

The stranger’s mouth moved in response, but the Narrator couldn’t hear anything she said. His legs felt weak. He knew he couldn’t stand for much longer. Why was this happening to him? 

The stranger seemed to notice his worsening state since she kneeled down and gestured to the Narrator to do the same. The Narrator easily understood the gesture and slowly sunk to the ground beside her.

“Stanley... I need Stanley.. I don’t know where he went… I lost him.” The Narrator hugged his knees tightly to his chest. Tears rolled freely down his cheeks with each heaving breath he took. He felt like his heart was going to explode with how fast it was beating. Was this body failing him? Was he going to die?

Oh my god. He was going to die. 

His breathing quickened, and his chest tightened even more than before. He was dying.

“Sir! Please try to focus on me! We’ll find Stanley. Everything will be okay.” The stranger spoke, but her words, unfortunately, fell on deaf ears.

The Narrator’s mind raced nearly as quickly as his heart. He could not get his body to stop trembling. Every inch of him shook violently, and he felt as if he couldn’t catch his breath. Tears traveled down his cheeks and chin so quickly that he could feel them starting to trail down his neck.

He could feel everything , and there was far too much of it. His tie was too tight. He felt the elastic of his sock around his calf. He could feel every single wrinkle in his pants as they pushed against his skin. His dress shirt was so goddamn itchy.

Oh my god. This would really be the end for him.

The stranger extended a hand to get the Narrator’s attention, but she didn’t touch him. She smiled gently once he looked up, and she put her hand on her chest as she took a deep breath, held it, and then slowly breathed out.

She repeated the deep breath a few times before the Narrator finally caught on. He took a shaky deep breath with her, held it, and the pair breathed out together. This repeated a few more times until the Narrator could finally breathe on his own and his heart rate finally slowed.

“There we go. You’re alright. Everything will be okay.” The stranger spoke softly, but still didn’t touch the Narrator to comfort him. The Narrator took another quick breath before responding.

“Thank you..” He spoke weakly, his body still trembling slightly, and his tears remained on his face. He slowly wiped his eyes and cheeks with his sleeve, since he didn’t have his usual pocket square. Once his eyes were clear of tears, he dared to glance out into the street. The crowd had thankfully calmed down. How long was the Narrator panicked? 

Most importantly, where did Stanley go?

“You were talking about this ‘Stanley’ person. Do you know what direction they headed in?” The stranger slowly stood up and dusted herself off. She looked around to see if anyone was looking for the older man at the same time.

The Narrator was still shaken up from everything and opted to slowly shake his head instead of speaking. He already embarrassed himself enough today, so he didn’t need to screw it up by saying anything foolish.

“I’m sure we’ll find them. The town isn’t that big, and I’m sure they’re looking for you too.” The stranger smiled kindly at the Narrator and put her arm out to help him to his feet. The Narrator hesitated, but slowly took her hand and stood beside her.

“Hm.. Which direction should we go first?” The kind stranger let go of the Narrator’s hand once he was standing up and smiled wider at him. The Narrator meekly smiled back.

“I still can’t believe you’re back, Stanley!! We tried texting you for days! We even knocked on your door for a couple of days. I’ll have to tell the others!” The tall stranger had spoken excitedly to Stanley for at least ten minutes. In his excitement to apparently see him again, he also had pulled Stanley away from the Narrator.

Stanley anxiously fidgeted during the whole conversation. He shifted the clothing bag back and forth between his hands as he walked beside the tall stranger. Not only did he desperately need to return to (and also find) the Narrator, but he also had no clue who this person was, nor did he have any idea what the tall stranger was talking about. He simply pretended to nod along to the very one-sided conversation.

“Oh my god, Mia and Aubrey are going to lose their minds seeing you, heck even hearing about you, again. Harris knew you were coming back! He knew the whole time!

“We’ll absolutely all have to catch up at dinner!!” The tall stranger’s excitement was sky-high as he skipped around to different topics, while Stanley only stared at him with a confused and slightly concerned expression.

“We were so incredibly worried about you! You can’t just disappear on us like that!” The stranger laughed and nudged Stanley playfully. Stanley’s confusion only grew. Finally, the tall stranger noticed his expression, and his expression quickly shifted into confusion as well.

“What’s wrong, Stanley? Did I say something bad?” The tall stranger raised an eyebrow at Stanley for a moment before it “clicked” in his head. “Oh my god!! I accidentally pulled you out of your errands! Shoot! I am so sorry, Stan. I didn’t mean to screw up your whole schedule! Just like me to get carried away talking.

“I truly am sorry about interrupting your trip! You gotta actually respond to the chat, though, okay? The others are dying to hear from you. Alright! I’ll see you at work!!” Before Stanley had the chance to respond or question anything the tall stranger told him, he ran off down the street.

Stanley stood frozen in the middle of the sidewalk, alone. What just happened? 

He had no idea who that person was at all, but he acted like they were best friends. It happened at the grocery store, but this person seemed to know him much more than that. He brought up so many names and details that Stanley had absolutely no clue about. 

After a deep breath, Stanley tucked that conversation in the back of his head to worry about later. He had more important things to do. Right now, he had to find the Narrator.

Oh, goodness. He really needed to find the Narrator. 

Without realizing it, Stanley abandoned him. He abandoned him like he did in the escape pod ending. 

Like the skip button ending.

Stanley immediately took off in the direction he came from. He darted down the street while glancing at stores and alleys as he went. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the state the Narrator was in. Stanley completely left him.

Stanley ran quicker as he turned down another street and looked around for the Narrator.  He couldn’t believe he so willingly left the Narrator. The poor man was probably in pieces by now, and it was all his fault.

“Stanley?! Stanley!” The stranger walked alongside the Narrator as she called out. The Narrator hadn’t said a word to her since he calmed down from his panic attack. He badly wanted to thank her for all the help she provided, but he couldn’t force the words out.

During their time searching, the Narrator’s chest slowly started to feel tight again. Stanley still was nowhere to be found. Maybe he decided to leave the Narrator behind. After all, he still wasn’t making his own decisions after he said he would. He made one promise, and he completely failed to follow through on it.

Stanley was probably exhausted of the Narrator and his nonsense. The Narrator was aware that he didn’t treat Stanley super well in the Parable, so this was coming for a long while. Stanley was far too nice to him for what he had done.

The stranger who helped the Narrator was exactly the same case. He showed intense weakness and cowardice, but she was kind to him nonetheless. She had no reason to be this kind, but she was. The Narrator certainly didn’t deserve that. 

While in his thoughts, the Narrator didn’t notice he completely stopped walking. The Narrator fidgeted with his sleeves again, and the stranger noticed his worry. She stopped as well and smiled gently.

“Oh, he’s gotta be around here somewhere. We’ll find him,” she said softly to the Narrator before calling out again.

“Stanley!” 

“Stanley!?”

Hearing his name made his heart stop. Whoever was calling for him definitely was not the Narrator, but there was a chance he would be with the one yelling. The voice came from the street next to him, so he wasted no time running into the next alley and crossing over to the next street.

Stanley never ran so quickly in his life the moment he saw the woman calling out and, most importantly, the Narrator walking slowly beside her. He ran the entirety of the quarter kilometer in only about half a minute.

The Narrator heard someone running and glanced up, making eye contact with Stanley. His mood immediately lifted, and a wide smile spread across his face. Every doubt in his head was quickly wiped clean.

“Stanley!” The Narrator was the one who shouted this time as Stanley closed the gap between them, dropped the bag, picked him up, and hugged him tightly. Stanley was panting, but he didn’t even care. He tightly held the Narrator in his arms and made a promise to never let that happen again.

“Oh my goodness, Stanley! I was so terrified you weren’t going to come back! I thought you were gone!” The Narrator continued to speak loudly as he hugged Stanley back as tightly as he could. The Narrator was just absolutely overjoyed to see Stanley again.

Stanley kissed each of his cheeks as a makeshift apology for leaving the Narrator without warning. He wished he could apologize in words, but he prayed the hugs and kisses expressed the same thing.

The kind stranger smiled wide as she watched the reunion. She didn’t want to interrupt, but she was happy they finally found one another.

“Oh my!” The Narrator tapped Stanley’s shoulder, which caused him to set the older gentleman down. He faced the stranger who helped him. His rush of happiness pushed back every worry he had as he spoke excitedly.

“I cannot thank you enough for your help and kindness. I appreciate everything you did for me today. You showed me immense care when I really needed it. Thank you.” The Narrator smiled wide at the stranger, who happily smiled back.

“I’m always happy to help wherever I can. I’m just glad everything worked out in the end, and I was able to help at all.” She kept a wide smile on her face and she looked at Stanley. “It might not be a great idea to head out at noon on a Saturday if you want to avoid a crowd, though.” She chuckled lightly.

Both Stanley and the Narrator smiled back. Stanley wanted to thank the stranger so badly for taking care of the Narrator, but he didn’t have any way to communicate it. Instead, he smiled wide and gave a gentle nod as thanks. Luckily, the stranger seemed to understand.

“Of course, you two. I really am so happy to help. I do have to run off now, though. Both of you, take care now! Hopefully I’ll see you around too!” She gave a quick wave before heading off again down the street.

“Thank you again! Take care as well!” The Narrator called after her with a wide smile on his face.

Stanley smiled and waved at her until she was gone. Once she turned her back, Stanley happily picked the Narrator up again and hugged him tightly. The Narrator chuckled as he happily held onto him.

“Oh, Stanley. I am so grateful to see you again, you have no idea! I certainly don’t want that to happen again. How about we head home now, hm? It has been a long day already.” Stanley nodded along to the Narrator’s sentiment. 

Neither man fully knew what the other had been through that day, but they both knew they needed a break. Maybe they would find the strength to talk about it later. Maybe.

Instead of setting the Narrator back on his feet, Stanley simply squatted down to grab the clothing bag. He continued to carry the Narrator with his legs around Stanley’s waist and his arms around his neck. The Narrator definitely didn’t mind it, either. Stanley kept his arms under the Narrator’s thighs with the bag in one hand, made sure he was secure, and started the walk home. 

After the panic attack earlier, the Narrator appreciated the closeness to Stanley. He was right there, and he wasn’t going anywhere. Not this time. The Narrator leaned his cheek against his arm and stared out at the street as Stanley carried him. His body still ached slightly from the events earlier in the day as well. At least he had some time to relax.

Stanley, unsurprisingly, was silent during the walk home. This silence was different, though. The interaction he had with the tall stranger earlier kept threatening to come to the front of his mind, but he forced them back with everything he could. He didn’t want to worry about that right now. Rather, he never wanted to worry about it. That would be the most optimal option.

Stanley took his time walking home as he admittedly liked carrying the Narrator around like he was after the long day. They finally arrived at the house, but unfortunately, he had to set the Narrator down to unlock the door.

He opened the door happily for the Narrator, who grabbed the bag of clothes before entering. The Narrator stretched as soon as he got into the house.

“You know.. I think I might need to put that sweatshirt on. I believe I deserve something comfortable after today.” He chuckled and headed upstairs in order to get changed. 

Stanley smiled at him and shut the door behind himself once he entered. He watched the Narrator walk up the stairs before he sighed and felt himself deflate slightly. Today was a lot. 

You know what would be perfect to ease his nerves from the day? Definitely some coffee. 

Stanley happily walked to the kitchen and got the coffee machine ready. In the kitchen, he found exactly what he needed in addition to the coffee. The bucket sat on the counter, and he quickly grabbed it and held it close to him.

He got hit with the strong wave of it’s calming effects and he sighed lightly. It was exactly what he needed right now. Despite having the bucket close to him, its effects were not long-lasting, and they slowly diminished in quality from his overuse of it back in the parable. The bucket was still nice, but he needed another distraction badly.

Stanley decided to tidy up the kitchen table while he waited for his coffee to brew. He couldn’t let any thought about the day seep into his mind.

He set the bucket down on the table so it could watch him. Stanley then got started by picking up a small stack of magazines and newspapers that he clearly never got around to throwing out. For now, he set them down on the floor by the kitchen entryway.

Even though he was doing something, the silence was quickly growing to be too much, too. Normally he had the Narrator constantly speaking to distract him, but he was busy getting changed. Stanley opted to hum a tune he heard back in the elevator when he was still in the Parable. The old elevator music was oddly comforting.

Stanley picked up some envelopes and looked through them. They seemed to all be bills or taxes, not that he knew what to even do with those. He decided to pull a chair out and place the important things there. He would figure out how to pay those later.

Before much longer, the Narrator came downstairs in the chocolate brown sweatshirt they bought and a pair of jeans as well. It was a very unusual look for him, but it was definitely more comfortable than a suit.

“Stanley?” The Narrator heard Stanley shuffling around and humming, so he walked to the source of the noise in the dining room. “What are you up to now?”

Stanley looked over at him, still holding a few other envelopes in his hands that he was sorting. He shamelessly stared at the Narrator’s new look. The brown still was similar enough to a lot of suits he would swap through in the Parable, but the sweatshirt was definitely a charming change for him.

“Stanley, you don’t have to stare so hard.” The Narrator sighed and averted his gaze, his face red. “I know it’s something different, but I enjoy it.. 

“I think.” His confidence quickly turned to hesitance of admitting his enjoyment. After all, he needed to know Stanley’s review too, even if he already heard it at the store.

Stanley looked at the Narrator and raised an eyebrow. He gave him a thumbs up since he obviously really enjoyed the look of it. He was the one who picked it out. Plus, the Narrator would be more comfortable relaxing in it compared to his usual dress clothes.

The small thumbs-up from Stanley was all the Narrator needed to smile again gently. 

“I am really glad you like it. And, of course, thank you for taking me out to get clothes. The trip ended a little less than ideal, but the clothes are very nice to have! Thank you.” The Narrator beamed as he spoke. He really appreciated it so, so much. He appreciated everything Stanley did for him.

Stanley flashed him a smile before sorting through the final of the envelopes he held. A lot seemed to be junk mail or bills. Nothing super exciting. The Narrator watched him for a moment before he realized what he was working on.

“You should have waited for me to come down before you started, Stanley! I am more than happy to help out!” The Narrator soon stood beside him and started to pick up some papers before he noticed a familiar face, or rather stickers. 

“Was the bucket helping you clean, Stanley?” Stanley glanced at the bucket and shook his head. 

“Ah. Did you... Need the bucket then, Stanley?” Instead of answering, the man only diverted his gaze. The Narrator frowned gently. 

“Was today a fairly rough day for you too?” The Narrator questioned as he picked up a few more pieces of paper beside Stanley. He nodded gently in response, so the Narrator set the papers down and moved to take both of Stanley’s hands.

“Stanley.. I’m here for you, okay? I know it’s hard for you to open up, but I’m here to support you.” The Narrator smiled gently as he looked up at him. “You’re always there for me, and I’ll always be there for you.”

Stanley stared down slightly at the Narrator before he moved closer to rest his forehead against the Narrator’s. He shut his eyes and relaxed as he held both of the Narrator’s hands. Stanley took a deep breath as he tried to relax. He wished so badly he could just talk about things. It would make everything so much easier.

After a moment, the Narrator pulled Stanley closer and hugged him tightly.

“Your hands are shaking, dear Stanley. Everything will be okay.. I’m here for you.” The Narrator started to rub Stanley’s back to calm him down further. The action only caused Stanley to grasp the back of the Narrator’s sweatshirt as he hugged him even tighter.

Stanley kept the Narrator close to him as he buried his face in his shoulder. He just wanted a break from his thoughts so badly. All the thoughts about the tall stranger that he pushed back were disastrously starting to resurface. 

The tall stranger kept bringing up other people’s names. Aubrey, Sandra, and Harris, if he remembered correctly. He kept telling Stanley that they tried to message him and call him, but Stanley didn’t even have a phone. 

But.. Harris. That name. He heard it before, hadn’t he?

The dinner. The tall stranger said Stanley would reunite with everyone at the dinner. The dinner that would be at Harris’ house. 

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

“Stanley? Are you doing alright up there? You are shaking even worse,” the Narrator spoke with a soft voice. Stanley’s grip on his sweatshirt was strong, and he zoned out while staring at the floor.

If the tall stranger and him were such good friends, why didn’t he remember him? The names he brought up didn’t ring a bell even slightly. He didn’t remember them at all. 

The tall stranger told Stanley that they were all worried about him. He said that they were trying to reach him for days. He said they would be overjoyed to hear about him again.

Stanley didn’t even know who they were.

Why didn’t Stanley know who they were?

“Stanley, please… Are you okay?” The Narrator was starting to grow really concerned for Stanley. His body trembled, and his grip was firm on the Narrator’s sweatshirt. His breathing was slowly picking up, and he stared unblinking at the floor. Stanley’s mind raced with questions and doubts.

What happened to him? Why couldn’t he remember anything?

“Stanley.” The Narrator hugged him tightly before slowly pushing him away. The separation finally caused Stanley to snap out of his thoughts.

Stanley stared at the Narrator with dilated pupils for a moment before he finally took a deep breath. 

“Just breathe, Stanley. You’re alright.” The Narrator continued to speak softly as he pulled him back into a hug. This one wasn’t nearly as desperate. Stanley took several slow deep breaths as he held onto the Narrator.

“I wish we could talk about what’s concerning you, Stanley.. I’m sorry I never gave you a voice.” The Narrator rubbed Stanley’s back again as he relaxed. Stanley wished the same, but it was too late to do anything about it.

Plus, deep down in Stanley’s head, he knew the Narrator wasn’t responsible. 

A few minutes passed before Stanley pulled away from the hug. He wasn’t trembling anymore, and he calmed down. He gently placed a kiss on the Narrator’s head before placing his forehead against his briefly as a thanks. The Narrator smiled sweetly.

“Now let’s say we get back to cleaning, hm? It’ll help get your mind off of things too I assume.” The Narrator kept the smile on his face as he picked up a few papers again. Stanley smiled back at the Narrator before looking through some folders as well. 

Oh, wait. His coffee. 

Stanley set the folder down and finally returned to the kitchen. The coffee finished brewing at least ten minutes ago now, but at least it was still slightly hot. He poured the brew into a mug, not using any milk or sugar, and returned to the dining room. The Narrator curiously looked over.

“What did you end up making, Stanley?” Stanley came over and held it out to him. “Ah, coffee. I always loved the smell of it, but I truly cannot stand the taste.” Stanley just smiled and took a sip. It was perfect enough for him.

After a few more sips, he set the mug down and got back to cleaning. Both he and the Narrator worked to sort the mess of the table. Most of the stuff on the table were manila folders full of random documents and graphs. Neither man understood what they meant at all, so they all were set into a pile of their own.

The Narrator started to hum happily as they cleaned. Stanley smiled gently and often took breaks to take sips of his coffee during their time tidying everything. His mood definitely improved over the last hour, and lord was he thankful for that.

After about another half an hour, the dining room table was finally clear. The table was clean, but there were stacks of papers and folders on the floor and chairs.

“Alright. We definitely made some progress. That is, if progress is simply moving everything around.” The Narrator sighed as he stared at the little piles around the floor. Stanley shook his head. He figured they made good progress.

Stanley quickly finished off his coffee, having poured himself another mug not too long ago. He grabbed the tall pile of old magazines and newspapers to recycle. Now.. Where could he recycle them?

He hummed to himself as he thought before heading through the house and out the front door. Stanley dropped a few papers on his way over, but thankfully the Narrator was trailing after him to pick them up.

“What are you looking for, Stanley?” The Narrator asked as he often did, even though he knew he would not get an answer. Stanley, of course, stayed silent as he walked outside with the massive pile. The Narrator made sure the door was unlocked before he followed the man.

Stanley glanced around before he noticed a small alley beside his home with two bins, one brown and one green. The green one had a triangle on it made with arrows, so Stanley assumed the paper went in there. He walked over to it, but couldn’t open it with his arms full.

“Ah, I’ve got it, Stanley. This one, right?” The Narrator opened the bin and helped Stanley empty the paper out of his arms after tossing the few sheets he had in as well. Stanley gave him a smile as thanks before looking further into the alley. It led to the back of his house, but he decided that would be an adventure for later. For now, there was still a lot of stuff to pick up in the house.

Stanley and the Narrator returned inside, the Narrator making sure to lock the door behind him even though he didn’t really need to. The pair made their way back to the dining room, and they took in the mess they left.

“Hm.. Well we have important documents, worry about later, the folders, bills and taxes, and the read further piles. I suppose we can move the folder piles somewhere else for now. After all, we have no clue what they even are.” Stanley nodded along to the Narrator’s thoughts. He immediately figured that they could go in the office.

He quickly grabbed the folders and ran them upstairs to clear some space. He set them down on the desk chair up there before running back down the steps.

In the meantime, the Narrator looked at the other piles. Of course, the bills and taxes would need to be taken care of pretty soon, or at least he assumed so, so he returned those to the table opposite to the side they sat at. Beside them, he set the other important documents down.

During their clean, they also found a laptop. That also was certainly important, so the Narrator set it beside the taxes, bills, and other assumedly important documents. Even though there were papers on the table again, they were better contained and sorted. It was definitely an improvement.

Stanley came downstairs again and looked at the progress the Narrator made. It definitely was helpful, and he really appreciated all he did. Stanley decided to just put the other piles, the read and worry about later stacks, on the table as well for now. 

“I think we did wonderful! We have about third quarters of the table clear now. I believe we deserve some much-needed relaxation.” The Narrator smiled, and Stanley absolutely agreed. They worked really hard, and they had a long long day even if it was only around 2:00.

Stanley happily walked to the living room and let himself fall back onto the couch with a sigh. He relaxed down, and soon the Narrator joined him.

“Oh, this is so much better than those lounge room couches.” The Narrator smiled as he relaxed into the cushions. “Those were terrible, even I can admit that.” He chuckled and Stanley soon joined him.

The TV sat on a table against the wall in front of them, but neither of them paid it any attention. They only knew screens from the big room in the mind control facility, so a TV really meant nothing to them.

“You know what would be perfect right now, Stanley?” The Narrator interrupted the silence. “A nice cup of tea and a book.” The Narrator stood up again slowly. “Would you like any tea?” Stanley shook his head, but he stood up as well. He figured the Narrator could get his water started, and he would grab a book for him.

He quickly gestured to mime opening a book before pointing at the stairs and then himself. This was definitely a difficult one for the Narrator to understand. Stanley had to redo the action a few times before he finally made the best guess he could.

“Um.. You’ll grab a book for yourself too?” Stanley shook his head and pointed to the Narrator again. “You’ll grab a book for me ?” Bingo! Stanley nodded excitedly, and the Narrator smiled back.

“Ah! Perfect! I’ll get the water started, I trust you to find something good.” The Narrator smiled and headed toward the kitchen. Stanley kept a smile on his face before he ran back up the steps to find a nice book for the Narrator. 

He immediately went to his office again. There were at least hundreds of books spanning across several different shelves. It was hard to even know where to start, but Stanley knew the Narrator would have been thrown into a spiral if he even came in this room. 

He scanned over the shelves for a few minutes, slowly figuring out that the shelves were sorted by genre. Most of the books were science fiction or fantasy, but there were some memoirs, mystery, and nonfiction novels. After a while, he figured that the Narrator would most likely enjoy a mystery.

Despite having probably read these books before, he, of course, had no memory of them now. He scanned the mystery novels before grabbing one of the larger ones on the far right side. The Road to Nowhere had an interesting enough title too.

Happy with his choice, Stanley took the book downstairs to show the Narrator. He found the Narrator in the kitchen, humming to himself as he waited for his water to boil.

“Ah? Did you find something interesting, Stanley?” The Narrator looked at Stanley and put his hand out to take the book. He happily handed it over, and the Narrator hummed in approval.

“I already like the name. They always say to never judge a book by its cover, but it's often hard not to.” The Narrator flipped the book over in his hands and took some time to read the summary on the back. Much to Stanley’s enjoyment, the Narrator read it aloud for the both of them.

“Ooo, it’s a mystery! That is very exciting indeed, Stanley! A wonderful choice from you per usual.” The Narrator smiled wide at him, and Stanley beamed in response. He absolutely loved the praise, although not as much as the Narrator did.

Stanley remained in the kitchen with the Narrator as he waited for his tea to boil. The Narrator rambled on about some random things and had Stanley pick out a tea flavor for him. The downtime was very peaceful compared to how the day previously treated them.

In the moment of waiting for the water, Stanley realized he hadn’t eaten all day. He frowned slightly at the realization and walked to the fridge to find something to eat. Stanley walked between the fridge and the cabinet as he tried to figure out what he should have for a late lunch. After a bit of contemplation, he settled on just making himself a quick sandwich.

The Narrator continued to talk to him as Stanley put the sandwich together for himself and even after the water started to boil. He quickly took it off of the heat and poured it into the mug with the teabag. Stanley finished up making his sandwich around the same time the water finished boiling.

Instead of starting to eat immediately, he held it out to the Narrator to try a bite. The Narrator raised an eyebrow in response

“Stanley. I don’t need to eat, we both know this.” Stanley shrugged and kept the sandwich out for the Narrator to take a bite of. After a few moments and a sigh, the Narrator took a small bite. Satisfied, Stanley smiled wide and started to eat the rest of it.

“I don’t understand why you insist I try these things, Stanley… I must admit, it was delicious though. Good job.” The Narrator still wore a small smile on his face which caused Stanley to smile even wider with pride.

Stanley sat up on the counter to eat his sandwich as they both waited for the Narrator’s tea to finish steeping. The Narrator continued to ramble on a bit to fill the silence.

“I think maybe I should write a novel of my own. It could help me get my mind off of stuff,” the Narrator paused. “Maybe you should start writing too, Stanley. Writing about your feelings might help you out a lot.”

Stanley nodded gently as he took another bite of his lunch. He hadn’t thought about that, but it would be the best way to really let out his emotions. It’s not like he could just say them as freely as the Narrator did. After thinking more about it, he nodded more confidently at the idea.

The Narrator smiled wider at Stanley’s agreement with the idea. The timer soon beeped for his tea and he took the tea bag out with a spoon, a spoon he got on his own this time. Stanley also finished off his sandwich pretty soon after.

“Thank you again Stanley, for the book and your help picking the tea.” The two walked back to the living room and the Narrator set the mug down on a coaster that sat on the coffee table. He sat down in the corner of the couch, but didn’t open the book yet.

“Are you planning on joining me?” He looked up at Stanley, who remained standing. Stanley shook his head gently. He still had some stuff he wanted to look through, but he was sure he would join the Narrator soon enough.

“Feel free to join me if you wish, of course. I’m sure I’ll be right in this spot until I either finish this book or you drag me away.” The Narrator chuckled to himself before getting comfortable and opening up the book.

Stanley laughed along with him briefly before deciding to leave him alone to allow him to read. He headed back to the dining room to look through some of the papers and files the pair left on the table.

Stanley flipped through a few of them, but quickly made the decision that he would rather be doing anything else. After only a few short moments, he started to head back to the living room. The sight of the shelf right at the corner of the dining room stopped him.

He paused in front of it and looked over its contents. There were some boxes of files, plants, and even some books. He must’ve really loved books with how much they were spread around his house. These books seemed a bit different though. They were a lot thicker and the spines were soft.

A pale blue book stood out the most on the shelf. It wasn't too tall nor was it very thick. Stanley gently pulled it down, took it in his hands, and stared at the cover. It had a few sunflowers painted on it with “family of our own” right in the middle. He ran his fingers gently over the textured paint of the flower petals. The title was painted on as well in a dark navy.

Curiously, Stanley opened the first page. 

He immediately shut it. In his brief glance, he saw a picture of a few people all standing together and smiling. One of those people was the tall stranger he ran into earlier. Another was himself.

A small pit started to grow in Stanley’s chest from the sight. He peeked at the Narrator in the living room, who thankfully was still fully absorbed in his novel. Stanley stared at the book in his hands for a few moments before he slowly crept out of the room through the kitchen and then quickly darted upstairs to his bedroom.

Chapter Text

Stanley slowly shut the door behind him to prevent it from making any noise before he locked it, sank to the floor, and stared at the book’s cover. He took in every detail for a few moments. He gently ran his fingers along the raised paint and traced the flowers to help calm him down. After taking a deep breath, Stanley opened up the first page again.

The picture was right in the middle of the page. Stanley stood beside four other people. All of them wore huge smiles on their faces and had their arms around one another. The tall stranger from earlier in the day stood in the middle of the crowd, his arms around two others. 

The tall stranger’s arm was around Stanley, who was standing close to his left side and had his arm around him too. They were smiling wide as if they were laughing as the picture was being taken.

They were so happy.

Stanley’s body shuttered as he attempted to push down a sob that threatened to escape his lips. His throat stung and tightened as he stared at the page. His vision blurred ever so slightly, but he didn’t dare to wipe his eyes. The book shook in his trembling hands. 

He let his curiosity take over and started to flip through the pages. Each page was covered in pictures of him and the four others, but rarely as a full group like the first one. There were pictures of them out at dinner, at a park, and even some of them in a city or at the beach. Not a single picture in the book featured a frown. Every single one of the people in the photographs constantly had a wide smile on their face. 

Was this really what life was like? Did he know all of those other people? Did he have all of these friends? 

What happened to him? What happened to them ?

He knew what happened to one of them, at least. The book helped to solidify that he truly did know the tall stranger that talked to him so excitedly. Or rather, he used to know Wren. 

The caption Wren sat underneath several photos of the tall stranger. Several of the pictures had small captions of what they contained or mentioned the names of those in them as well. The tall stranger was Wren, the shorter, raven-haired one was Aubrey, the curly redhead with glasses was Harris, and the green haired one was Mia.

The names the tall str-.. Wren mentioned earlier were all right there. And all of them were so close to Stanley.

Why didn’t he remember them if they were this close? Why couldn’t he remember them? Did he really do all of these things? Were these real pictures of things he had done? Places he had gone?

Stanley’s questions piled on top of him, and he couldn’t take it any longer. He finally let out a shaky sob before completely falling apart. Tears quickly rolled down his cheeks, chin, and fell off onto the page. He lost control of his body as it jerked with each sob. His chest felt so tight, he couldn’t take it. He so badly wanted this pain to stop.

He hugged the book to his chest, as if he hoped it would bring the memories back. 

His whole life was over. All of these people he knew, all the experiences he had, they were all gone without a trace. Those people, places, and experiences were reduced to nothing. He was only left with broken pieces and confusion.

The only connection he discovered was in Wren, but he didn’t even know who he was. He saw someone who was obviously one of his best friends, but he only was left confused when he was talking to him. Stanley couldn’t even slightly remember him.

What was wrong with him? 

Stanley tried to dig deep into his memory as his hands reached up and clutched the sides of his head. He curled around himself with the book in his lap. He attempted to think of a life before the Parable, but he couldn’t even get close.

He remembered the Parable, the Zending, the Stanlurines, the confusion ending, the Narrator of course, his false wife, but nothing before it.

The earliest thing he remembered was opening his eyes inside his office and being announced as employee 427.

Come on, Stanley, think harder.

He remembered the Curator, her museum, the bucket game show, the being inside the computer he told the time, the memory zone, the adventure line, the bottom of the mind control room, the “infinite” hole, the cargo lift, the press conference, the countdown ending, but nothing before the Parable.

Tears started to roll down Stanley’s face faster. His body trembled as he sobbed. Several pathetic whimpers escaped his throat.

What did the Parable do to him? Why did it bury down all of his memories before it? Was there even a before?

His mind ran in circles. Surely he was missing something. Something big. He was missing proof that it was a lie, that it all was fabricated.

Was his mind being fully truthful? What was it hiding from him? Did the Narrator plan this? Were all these people tricking him? Maybe this was all a huge scheme against him. 

In between sobs, Stanley started to laugh desperately. This was some elaborate trick, it had to be. Everyone would enter the room and surprise him. It was all a trick, and he was actually still in the Parable. It had to be the case. There was no way this was real.

He laughed louder to himself as tears continued to roll down his cheeks. This was a pretty detailed ending the Narrator set up! Stanley would reset soon and end up in his office, he knew it! He would return to his brash office and the drab building, but he would return to everything he knew. 

Haha! That’s why the Narrator wanted a book! He planned this all out! He needed to give Stanley the room to figure it out for himself. Now, Stanley just needed to cross a certain threshold for everything to reset.

He finally got it! Stanley set the book down and shakily stood up. His legs felt like they would give out under him, but he didn’t care. He looked around his room through blurry eyes. What would cause a reset?

His feet carried him to some of the shelves around his room. They had books, potted plants, small figures, but nothing useful to him right now. He glanced around the rest of his room. What did he do to reset before?

God! He was being a total idiot today, wasn’t he? The Narrator was forced to reset when Stanley died.

He just had to die.

A wide smile spread across Stanley’s face as he looked around his room with more purpose. Tears continued to roll down his cheeks as he thought of ways to end himself and this stupidly long and overcomplicated ending. 

He walked to the window, but the fall wouldn’t be tall enough to end it. He considered getting a knife in the kitchen downstairs, but he couldn’t pass by the Narrator. If he alerted the Narrator, he was sure he wouldn’t reset. The Narrator would know that Stanley knew his plans if he saw him grab the knife. Plus, Stanley was sure he needed to do this on his own. It was all going according to the Narrator’s plan.

Stanley’s eyes landed on a large blank space on his wall.

Perfect.

Bang

Bang

Bang

The Narrator jolted when he first heard the noise. What the hell was Stanley up to? Or rather, where even was Stanley?

The Narrator took another sip of his tea before he set his book down with a makeshift bookmark made of a tissue. He had turned his attention to something else for only a few moments, and Stanley already was off causing some sort of trouble.

Well, the noise that came from upstairs seemed like a good enough spot to start his search.

He stood up and stretched for a moment before heading up the steps. The noise got louder as he approached Stanley’s room. The Narrator knocked on the door rather hard to be heard over the banging.

“Stanley? What are you doing in there? Some quick home renovation?” He questioned loudly so he would be heard over the loud noise coming from inside. In response, the banging ceased for a moment before it picked up with more severity.

“Stanley?!” The Narrator tried to open the door, but it was locked. Panic started to brew inside of him with each knock. “Stanley, what in the world are you doing?! Let me in!”

His pleas were heard, but quickly ignored. The banging only continued. It soon clicked in the Narrator’s head that Stanley wasn’t doing any sort of home improvement, rather he was doing something extremely worse.

“Stanley!! Open the door this instant!” The Narrator desperately rattled the doorknob to try and open it. After realizing it was useless, he instead pounded his fist on the door and shouted. 

“Stop whatever you are doing!! You won’t reset, Stanley! You’ll die!!”

The banging paused for a few moments. 

He wouldn’t reset?

“Yes, please..” The Narrator desperately leaned his forehead against the door. Tears were welled in his eyes, but he blinked them away. He had no time for tears right now. “Stanley, open the door, please. Unlock the door and let me in. I can help yo-”

BANG

BANG

BANG

Stanley knew the Narrator was flat-out lying!! He just didn’t want them to reset, but when was he ever in control? Stanley needed to reset now, and the Narrator couldn’t stop him. He forced resets before like this, so he definitely could do it again.

“Stanley!” The Narrator shrieked. He tried with all he could to open the door, but it was fruitless. Goddamn him losing his co-clip from the Parable! He looked around at the reading nook, hoping to find anything to help him get the door.

BANG

The breath caught in the Narrator’s throat as he ran over to the shelf in the nook. His mind raced as he looked for anything. He had no time to think, so he grabbed a cat-shaped metal book end and returned to the door.

BANG

The Narrator raised the book end and struck the doorknob hard with it. If he couldn’t unlock it, he would have to get the doorknob off, one way or another. The first hit didn’t do anything, so the Narrator continued to slam the bookend into the locked doorknob.

BANG

After several heavy hits, the doorknob finally broke and dropped onto the ground, and the Narrator wasted no time barging into the room.

Stanley sat on his knees to the right of the door. His forehead leaned against the wall. The once pale yellow wall had a large vaguely circular splotch of blood several feet above him, with a streak leading down to the splotch at his current location. He used to be standing, but his shaking body and impacts on his head caused him to fall.

His body heaved with each breath, but he kept his forehead against the wall. Stanley’s tears mixed with the blood that poured from the open wound on his forehead. He didn’t dare to look at the Narrator. The Narrator ruined everything.

The Narrator gasped and covered his mouth after seeing the state Stanley was in.

“Stanley… W-.. What?-” The Narrator attempted, but failed to collect his thoughts effectively due to his shock. He hadn’t seen blood like this since the Zending.

After a quick moment of shock and standing in the doorway, he ran over and hugged Stanley tightly, sitting behind his slumped over body to do so. He wrapped his arms around Stanley’s waist and buried his face between his shoulder blades. Both of their bodies were trembling, but the Narrator still hugged Stanley tighter than he ever had.

“What were you thinking, Stanley..? Why-.. Why did you do this?” The Narrator’s voice shook as he held onto Stanley like his life depended on it. To him, it did. His glasses harshly dug into his face, but he didn’t even care anymore. 

Stanley blankly stared into the wall and watched his blood drip down on the space in front of him. Why did the Narrator have to ruin it? Why did he have to come in and ruin everything? Stanley was about to reset. He could’ve gone back to the life he knew.

Stanley was pissed that the Narrator stopped him. They both could have been back to normal, but he just had to stop him. It’s not like the Narrator had been thriving outside the Parable. Hell! He was doing the worst between the two of them!

Abruptly, Stanley pushed out of the Narrator’s grasp and stood up. He nearly fell over due to the state he was in, but he leaned against the wall to stabilize himself.

“Stanley.? You need to sit down. You’re bleeding.. I-I can find something to patch you up.” The Narrator stumbled back a bit from Stanley pushing him away and eventually stood up as well. He set a gentle hand on Stanley’s shoulder to try and calm him down. The sight of the worker nearly caused the Narrator to gag, but he held it back.

Stanley glared at the Narrator through his blood-ridden eyes, and he harshly removed the Narrator’s hand from his shoulder. His vision was tinted red, and partially blocked by white spots floating in his field of view. Blood had mixed with his tears and created dark pink trails down his cheeks. The blood that poured from his forehead created a crimson strip down about half of the middle of his face. Stanley glared at him as he tried to collect his thoughts enough to communicate them with the Narrator. Which, of course, was an issue in itself.

The Narrator only stared confusedly at him. Why was Stanley glaring at him? He nearly killed himself, and he was mad the Narrator stopped him?!

“Stanley, you almost died! You’re hurt! You wanted me to let you do this to yourself?!” The Narrator protested, even though he did not fully understand Stanley’s frustration. The Narrator felt his throat tighten slightly as his speech was met with a continued, intensified glare.

The Narrator never understood Stanley. He tried to act like he did, but he never ever did. Stanley could never communicate how he felt, but he doubted the Narrator would even listen if he could.

Stanley’s frustration only grew stronger, and he felt it brewing in his chest. The combination of a lack of communication and the Narrator ruining his plans was too much. Stanley squeezed his hands into fists. He had so much he wanted to yell at the Narrator about, but he couldn’t say a thing. 

Stanley wanted to tell the Narrator about how he was ruining everything, and he knew that the Narrator was hiding the reset from Stanley. He wanted to tell the Narrator that it was a twisted joke that he prepared all of this just to screw with him. He wanted to tell the Narrator that if this truly was the real world, he couldn’t take it. 

Every single grievance Stanley had started to pile together all at once. He wanted to yell at the Narrator for all the pain he caused him over the years. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs and tell the Narrator how absolutely useless he was, even though he was the one who wanted to escape.

“Stanley.. Please. Just sit down, I can run to the bathroom and get bandages. You have those.. Right?” The Narrator spoke softly, unaware of the anger and war brewing in Stanley’s head. He tried to gently rest his hands on Stanley’s shoulders again to help him sit, but his hands were immediately smacked away.

Before the Narrator even had a chance to think of a different approach, Stanley punched him hard in the nose, knocking his glasses off and causing him to yelp.

“Stanley?! What the hell is wrong with you!?” The Narrator was not one to curse, but he shouted as he immediately brought his hand to his nose. Black blood started to drip from his nostrils. The Narrator felt the warm liquid fall onto his fingers, and his body began to shake. Oh my god, he was bleeding. Despite his blurry vision, he could see Stanley’s glare clear as day.

Without allowing the Narrator any time to react, Stanley punched him again in the stomach and caused him to double over. He fell to his knees but kept a hand over his nose while the other helped to catch his fall.

“Stanley! Cut it out!! What is this? What’s gotten into you?!” The Narrator shouted at him.

This happened only once in the Parable. Stanley grew frustrated after a particular ending, specifically the apartment ending, and lashed out at the Narrator. He broke his glasses, bloodied his clothes, and broke his nose.

But, that was in the Parable. They reset, and the Narrator was fine. 

This wasn’t the Parable. There was no reset to fix all of this.

“Think for one minute, Stanley!! We can’t just reset and heal everything!” The Narrator pleaded as Stanley kicked him over, so he would be on his back on the ground. He pinned him to the ground, grabbed his sweatshirt collar, and raised a fist to punch the Narrator again.

Here he went with his lies again. Just reset, Stanley glared into him, just reset this. Send me back. Please send me back.

But no reset came.

The Narrator moved his arms to block his face, so blood freely flowed from his nose. His eyes were shut tightly as he braced for impact. He was trembling and downright terrified. The Narrator’s stomach hurt so badly, and he knew he couldn’t just make the pain go away as he did before. He couldn’t simply make the blood stop anymore. It terrified him.

Stanley stayed with his knees on either side of the Narrator and maintained a tight grip on his sweatshirt collar with one fist. Stanley was breathing hard, and he held his other fist raised to punch the man under him. Blood dripped down the bridge of his nose and onto the Narrator’s sleeves that he used to guard himself.

The scene stayed still for a moment before Stanley grabbed the Narrator’s collar with both hands, and he pulled him up to make eye contact with Stanley. The Narrator flinched hard and turned his head away while still keeping this arms covering his face. He didn’t want Stanley to break his nose, or at least, not make it worse.

Stanley glared at the Narrator and shook him slightly to drop his arms. Reset! Reset! Reset!

The Narrator sobbed as he refused to look at Stanley. He felt like he was going to die before, but now he almost knew it was true. The Narrator tasted the foul blood from his nose on his tongue and felt the hot tears streaming down his face.

Stanley still held the Narrator’s collar, but his glare softened for a moment. Why hadn’t the Narrator reset yet? Was he that stubborn right now? But.. He was bleeding. He was hurt. He was terrified… 

Of Stanley.

“Please… Please just let me go, Stanley.. I don’t want to die..” The Narrator begged between sobs. His body trembled, and he still couldn’t look at Stanley. He could smell the blood in the room, and it made him feel sick.

Stanley stared at the Narrator under him. Was this real after all? Was the Narrator telling the truth? He would have reset by now if not, but the pair remained in Stanley’s house.

The Narrator flinched as Stanley pulled him closer, but soon he felt the warm embrace of Stanley’s arms around him. He remained tense for a moment until he started to feel Stanley shake harder as he started to sob again. The Narrator hesitantly hugged Stanley back, which only caused Stanley to sob louder.

There was no reset. There was no fix to this. Stanley was left bloody, wounded, and broken, and only he could pick up the pieces. He couldn’t just close his eyes and his wounds would be healed. He couldn’t just wake up in his office. He had no choice but face the ugly, confusing world around him.

END OF VIOLENCE AFTER THIS BREAK

There are still references to blood as the pair clean up, but there is no more violence

The Narrator hugged Stanley tight to him despite the pain in his stomach and chest from being punched and kicked back. He buried his face in Stanley’s shoulder for a moment, glad he still didn’t have his glasses on and in the way. He knew he was getting blood into Stanley’s shirt, but he was certain Stanley’s blood was getting into his as well. 

Stanley was stuck here. He was stuck in this world. He tried so hard to come up with excuses that it wasn’t true, but it was. He couldn’t keep running. Stanley’s head hurt from both the pain he caused to it and the multitude of conflicting thoughts overwhelming him. There was no reset to save him. Not anymore.

Stanley let himself sob heavily as he gripped tightly onto the Narrator’s sweatshirt. He buried his head into the new article of clothing, immediately ruining it with blood. The Narrator took a moment to better situate them, and he ended up sitting in Stanley’s lap. The position was favorable to Stanley as he easily curled around the Narrator. 

Despite getting hurt by Stanley’s own hand, the Narrator gently pet Stanley’s head to help him calm down. The Narrator still was badly shaken up, but he believed that Stanley didn’t mean the violence.

“I-.. It’ll be okay, Stanley.. I forgive you,” The Narrator spoke softly, “Everything will be okay..” He continued to rub Stanley’s head and eventually moved his hands down to rub his back. As much as Stanley appreciated the kind words and gestures, he feverishly shook his head while keeping it hidden in the Narrator’s shoulder.

“You don’t think it’ll be okay?” Stanley shook his head again. “You… Don’t think I should forgive you?” Stanley nodded shamefully and kept his face hidden.

“Oh, Stanley..” The Narrator frowned slightly and squeezed Stanley a bit closer to him. “This new environment is hard for you, I know it is. It doesn’t help that your memories are right in front of you, but you can’t even slightly remember them..” The Narrator only knew the surface of what Stanley struggled with. He didn’t know a single thing about meeting Wren or the photo album.

Stanley hid himself in the Narrator and curled tighter around him. The Narrator had no idea of what fully was happening in his head.

“But… I’m here for you, Stanley. You have been so helpful to me. I know I haven’t lived up to the promise I made before this whole thing started, but you still stuck beside me. I will always stick with you as well. Maybe I don’t fully understand the struggles you go through, but that doesn’t change my stance. As much as you help me, I will help you too.. No matter what.” The Narrator nuzzled into Stanley’s shoulder to comfort him more.

Stanley continued to shake as he sobbed, but his sobs had calmed down to the point where he wasn’t loud. He kept a death grip on the Narrator for a bit longer before it loosened ever so slightly as he slowly relaxed from the breakdown.

“There we go.. You’re alright, Stanley. I’m here for you,” he paused for a moment, “Once you feel comfortable, we should clean up your head, okay? We don’t want that to get infected” He continued to speak softly, knowing that his voice often helped Stanley calm down. Stanley nodded gently in agreement.

The Narrator’s nose thankfully stopped bleeding, and he hoped Stanley’s head stopped as well. He didn’t know the ins and outs of going to a hospital to get real medical attention, so he hoped they wouldn’t need to. The Narrator would try his best, but he didn’t have a single clue for how to care for wounds. He used to be able to just reset them away. He prayed Stanley might know something.

The smell of blood still filled their bedroom, which the Narrator hoped would go away easily. He finally lifted his head slightly to take a deep breath. Immediately, his eyes locked onto the huge mess of blood on the wall he faced. It was a truly horrific sight. Stanley really did a number on himself and his room. Hopefully, blood wasn’t that hard to clean up.

A few moments passed before the Narrator finally started to speak again.

“Stanley.? After we get everything cleaned up, I think we have a lot to talk about..” He spoke gently as he stayed in Stanley’s arms. It was a long time coming, but how would they even speak about stuff? Stanley nuzzled deeper into the Narrator’s shoulder. He knew it was true, but he was hesitant to even attempt it. He would have to spill his guts and fears out to the Narrator.

Both of them knew it would be hard to properly communicate, but they knew it was absolutely worth a shot. Ever since they escaped the Parable, their inability to communicate only caused more and more issues. This instance was an extreme case of it. This instance made the Narrator realize it had to change.

Stanley slowly backed away from the Narrator after a few moments. He truly felt disgusting, and he looked the part. He left a large blood spot on the Narrator’s shoulder. Stanley frowned as he looked further at the Narrator. He was terribly roughed up with midnight black blood connecting from his nostrils to his mouth. The Narrator didn’t have his glasses as they sat about a meter away.

Stanley sighed and slowly stood up, grabbed them, and returned them to their owner. His head spun as he walked, but he tried to ignore it.

“Thank you, Stanley.” The Narrator placed his glasses onto his amazingly unbroken nose. With his glasses on again, he got a good look at Stanley. A large patch of skin on his forehead was broken and revealed scabbing deep crimson under it. His hair at the front of his face was soaked with blood and stuck to his skin and scab. The crimson continued down his face in the same strip as before, but thankfully it wasn’t dripping anymore. He looked something akin to a zombie, but he was graciously still alive. 

The pair stared at one another for a moment, taking in the sight of the damage they each were dealt. Stanley so badly wanted to apologize with all he could. He offered a hand to the Narrator and helped to pull him to his feet. Once he was standing, Stanley held the Narrator’s face in his hands and gently placed kisses on his cheeks and forehead.

“I forgive you, Stanley.. I know you may not believe I should, but I do.” The Narrator cupped one of his hands around Stanley’s as he leaned into his touch. Both of them had been through more than enough today. Twice.

They stayed together for another moment before Stanley broke away. He moved his hand and held the Narrator’s. Stanley led him along to the bathroom. They both desperately needed to get cleaned up, one far more than the other.

Stanley grabbed a washcloth and wet it under the sink. He gestured for the Narrator to sit up on the counter and helped him do so. Stanley gently took the washcloth and started to clean up the blood that was now dried on the Narrator’s face. His gentle touch greatly contrasted the roughness of his earlier punch. The Narrator definitely preferred the touch now.

As he cleaned the blood, Stanley placed more kisses on his forehead and cheeks. He felt horrible for what he had done, but he knew he could only move forward past it now. The Narrator smiled with each kiss, and soon enough, the blood was fully cleaned from his face.

Stanley placed one more light kiss on the Narrator’s nose to conclude the cleaning. He used the sink to rinse the blood out of the washcloth temporarily, since he knew he would just have to wash it later. The Narrator watched him before gently putting a hand on Stanley’s shoulder.

“May I help you clean up as well, Stanley? I’ll be gentle, I promise.” The Narrator looked at him with a small, caring smile. Stanley hesitated but nodded gently and rung the washcloth out before he held out for the Narrator to take.

“Thank you, Stanley. You have to stop me if it hurts, alright?” Stanley nodded as the Narrator guided him and sat him down on the closed toilet seat. The Narrator gently smiled at him and slowly started to clean the large amount of blood off of his face.

He started by lightly scrubbing off the bloody tear tracks that traveled down to Stanley’s chin. The Narrator kept his free hand on Stanley’s jaw in order to position his head to better show the trails. His touch was feather gentle as he worked.

As Stanley sat there and let the Narrator work, he fidgeted ever so slightly. He constantly tangled and untangled his fingers together and cracked them several times. The Narrator was in front of him, but now he didn’t feel like making any eye contact.

After the tear tracks were clean, the Narrator started work on the main mess that covered the middle of Stanley’s face. He didn’t want to touch the wound itself yet, so the Narrator started at the bottom of it at his nose. With his cheeks now clean, the Narrator gently kissed his cheek every so often as he worked.

“You’ll be cleaned up in no time, Stanley. You’re doing fantastic.” The Narrator muttered his praises as he slowly moved up Stanley’s face to clean it. Soon enough, most of the blood that dripped down his face was gone and only the wound and his hair was left caked with dried blood.

The Narrator carefully removed any stuck down hair from the large wound, but Stanley still winced ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry, Stanley. I do need to clean it up though. I promise I will be as gentle as I can, I’ll try to be quick.” The Narrator looked down at Stanley, who hesitantly nodded in response. Stanley glanced up and exchanged eye contact with the Narrator. He instantly looked away and caused the Narrator to sigh.

“Stanley, I won’t withdraw my forgiveness,” he started as he returned to the sink to rinse the blood out of the washcloth. “You may feel as if you don’t deserve it, but I promise you do. You deserve forgiveness, and you deserve me being gentle to you. Even despite what happened.” The Narrator rung out the washcloth slightly and returned to Stanley, whose eyes were now glued onto him.

“I could tell you were being gentle with me as a form of an apology, so I say this is something similar. I’m sorry I don’t understand everything you’ve been going through.” The Narrator continued to speak as he started to gently pat the wound on Stanley’s head with the washcloth. “I can try to say I know how hard things are, but I am aware I don’t. You have so much going on, I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like.

“That’s why I think we should work more on communication. I know it will be difficult, but it will be worth it for the two of us. Even with the time it takes to solve that issue, I will be here to help you with everything you are going through. At least, I will help as much as I can.” The Narrator rambled as he focused on cleaning around the wound as gently as he possibly could. He danced around a topic in his head for a while, but he finally decided to just say it.

“I suppose.. I want to tell you that I need you here with me, Stanley. Unlike before, you die when you die. If you continued what you were doing, you would have died… No resets. No coming back. You.. Really scared me. I don’t think I could be without you.. Do you understand, Stanley?” The Narrator finally turned his attention back to the whole of Stanley’s face. Tears rolled down Stanley’s face, and they clearly had been doing so for a while.

“Oh, Stanley…” The Narrator set the washcloth down on the counter and pulled him into another hug. 

Stanley felt far too many emotions for one day, and he definitely was not a fan of it. He barely got time to catch his breath before he got hit again by a massive wave of unwanted feelings. At least they weren’t all negative this time. He felt guilty, but loved and cared for at the same time. He felt guilty to be loved. He didn’t deserve all of this care from the Narrator, even if he insisted he did. Stanley punched the Narrator multiple times, but now he was gently cleaning up Stanley’s self-inflicted wounds with the upmost care.

It was only minutes ago when Stanley thought the Narrator was scheming against him. He thought the Narrator made a personal hell for Stanley, but that wasn’t the case at all. The Narrator was as scared and confused as he was. They were in this together, they were not supposed to be at one another’s throats.

“It’ll be okay, Stanley.. I promise you.” The Narrator cooed to Stanley. “We will get through this together, but you have to promise to stay here with me.” Stanley wasted no time in nodding against the Narrator. 

They were both scared. They only had each other to navigate this new world. The Narrator needed Stanley as much as Stanley needed him.

The pair stayed hugging for another few moments before the Narrator placed gentle kisses on Stanley’s cheek, and he eventually pulled away. After all, Stanley’s hair was still stiff with blood and his wound was still caked.

“Thank you so much, Stanley. Let’s quickly finish up here and we both can get some new clothes. I believe you deserve a little nap too, that’s for sure.” Stanley nodded along. A nap sounded absolutely wonderful right now.

The Narrator took his time in carefully cleaning the wound and, with Stanley’s help, cleaned the blood out of his hair as well. Stanley didn’t have any large wrap bandages to put over his wound, so the pair agreed it was a good idea to let it air out for now.

After he finished drying Stanley’s hair, the Narrator placed a soft kiss on the top of his head. Stanley smiled gently in response and slowly stood up. He kissed the Narrator on the lips this time and smiled wide at him. The Narrator wasted no time in returning the smile.

Stanley’s smile faltered as he noticed the blood on the Narrator’s sweatshirt again. He nearly forgot about it. The Narrator followed his eyes and pulled the clothing a bit to see the stain.

“Ah.. yeah, that. I suppose we better get this cleaned up then. Yours as well.”  The Narrator pulled the sweatshirt over his head and tugged it off. He wore a shirt under the hoodie, so he wasn’t completely exposed.

Stanley glanced at his sweatshirt and only took it off after the Narrator pointed to the spot on the shoulder. It wasn’t nearly as much as the Narrator had on his, but who knew how well the black blood would wash out, if at all. 

While the Narrator had a shirt on under his sweatshirt, Stanley was left bare. Stanley held the sweatshirt in his hands and looked at the shower for a moment as he considered if he should clean himself up again. He decided he was far too tired for that and instead turned the sink on cold before putting the stain under it. The Narrator watched curiously and glanced back at his sweatshirt. 

“Does that clean it, Stanley? Will it get the stain out?” The Narrator held his sweatshirt in his hands as he asked. Stanley shrugged but then started to nod as he worked out the blood with his fingers.

“Do you think it would work with mine?” Stanley nodded in response, took the Narrator’s sweatshirt, and ran the stain under cold water. He worked at the stain again with his fingers for a moment until the water ran clear. He knew he would have to actually wash them later, but he was too exhausted from the day to deal with it now.

Stanley scrubbed the fabric and yawned. He turned the sink off and hung the two sweatshirts up on the shower rod for now. He looked, and felt, absolutely exhausted.

“Oh, Stanley. Let’s get you into some fresh clothes and into bed. You desperately need some rest.” The Narrator smiled and patted Stanley’s shoulder. Stanley returned a tired smile before walking to their bedroom with the older man.

The Narrator searched in the closet and grabbed some pajamas for Stanley, but Stanley had other plans. He laid down in bed on his back and spread out. Stanley didn’t even care for other clothes at the moment. He shut his eyes and sighed.

“Decided to skip on pajamas, Stanley? Is that comfortable enough for you?” The Narrator glanced over and walked to the side of the bed. Sure, Stanley didn’t have a shirt on, but he also still had jeans. Stanley huffed and simply undid his belt and kicked his jeans off. The Narrator chuckled and picked the pants off of the bed.

“I suppose now you really are comfortable.” The Narrator laughed, took the belt out of the jeans, and folded them. Stanley smiled wide at the Narrator and relaxed into the bed. 

“I’ll leave you now to get some sleep. Try not to touch your forehead to anything, okay?” The Narrator leaned over the bed to give Stanley a little kiss goodnight, but Stanley didn’t want him to leave just yet. 

Stanley rolled onto his side and stretched his arms out for the Narrator to join him. The Narrator smiled gently and set down Stanley’s jeans on the bedside table.

“Just for a little bit, Stanley. I don’t want to bump into your head at all and reopen the scab.” The Narrator also had other plans of something he wanted to do that day, but that was a surprise for Stanley. Stanley nodded and kept his arms open.

The Narrator smiled and stayed in his clothes as he slid into bed. Stanley immediately pulled him close and curled slightly around him. The Narrator nuzzled his head into Stanley’s chest, staying as far away from his head as possible.

Stanley relaxed immediately as he cuddled close to the Narrator. He was absolutely exhausted. Part of him didn’t want the Narrator so close to him since he caused him so much harm, but the other part wanted nothing more than the comfort he supplied. 

The blood stain on the wall glared at Stanley when he opened his eyes for just one moment. His body shuttered slightly as he stared into it. Had he really done that? 

“Are you alright, Stanley?” The Narrator looked up at him. Immediately upon seeing Stanley’s eyes locked on the wall and his slightly terrified expression, he gently placed a kiss on his jaw.

“Hey.. Just focus on me. I’ll clean it up later.” Stanley removed his eyes from the wall and finally returned his gaze to the Narrator. “There we go. We don’t have to worry about all of that now, you should just focus on getting sleep. We will have a real talk about everything later, okay?”

Stanley nodded gently and hid his face in the Narrator’s hair. The Narrator started to gently rub his back as well for extra, much needed comfort. A few moments passed before Stanley finally fell asleep. His grip on the Narrator loosened slightly as he relaxed.

The Narrator smiled gently and remained with Stanley for a few minutes before he carefully wiggled out of his grasp. He had a plan for the rest of the day, and he was comfortable enough to leave Stanley for a bit. Especially since he was sleeping, he trusted Stanley wouldn’t do anything bad.

He stared at Stanley for a moment once he got out of bed. The large wound on his forehead glared back at the Narrator. He took a deep breath and gently kissed Stanley’s cheek before he turned to leave the room.

As the Narrator tried to leave the room, the aggressive maroon stain on the wall scowled at him. He froze in his tracks and stared back at it. He needed to clean that up urgently. He set his plans on hold for now.

The Narrator returned to the bathroom, grabbed the washcloth from earlier, re-wet it, and walked back to the bedroom. The blood was already dried onto the wall by the time the Narrator got around to cleaning it, so hopefully the washcloth would work.

The blood that stained the wall was a little bit taller than the Narrator. The splotch at the top was massive with several drips trailing down the wall. Some of the thickest parts were still slightly tacky and not completely dry. From the middle of the stain was a large streak of blood that dragged down to another not-as-large splotch about a meter from the ground. More drips trailed along the wall and connected to the trim along the bottom of the wall. Several small drops of blood fell onto the carpet as well, successfully staining it as well.

After taking a deep breath to compose himself from the sight, the Narrator started to scrub the maroon stain away. It took a lot more effort than he expected, but he started at the top and moved his way down as he cleaned it up. 

What he expected to be a quick 10-minute job turned into over half an hour of rough scrubbing at the wall and then the carpet. He found some cleaning stuff under the bathroom sink and tried it out on the surfaces, which thankfully did more help than harm. After the nearly 45 minute cleaning adventure, the blood was finally gone without a trace. The Narrator sighed with relief when he stepped back and couldn’t even determine where the stain used to be. He hoped Stanley would be as pleased as he was.

The Narrator spent some extra time in tidying the mess of cleaning supplies he used. He returned everything to its rightful place before he checked back in to make sure Stanley was still asleep. Thankfully, Stanley was knocked out cold from the long day, and it was an additional plus that he hadn’t messed with his wound.

As quietly as possible, the Narrator grabbed a yellow knit sweater the pair had purchased earlier in the day and pulled it on over his undershirt. His smoothed down the sweater, fixed his hair in the bathroom mirror, checked in on Stanley one final time, and turned again to leave the room.

In his attempt to leave, something caught the Narrator’s eye that sat on the floor to the left of the door. There was a pale blue book with what seemed to be sunflowers painted on the cover. The Narrator leaned down and picked it up carefully. He flipped it over in his hands before opening it briefly. He stared at the first picture in the book. There was Stanley. Stanley and a few others.

He stared at it for several long moments before he shut the book. Was this what caused Stanley to panic like he had? Did it cause all of this? The Narrator stared at the deceivingly joyful cover and set it on a shelf in the room. They would revisit the topic later. For now, the Narrator left the room and headed downstairs.

The Narrator knew his plan was going to be scary and uncomfortable and terrible in all sense of the word, but he also knew it was essential. After checking a few drawers in the kitchen, he found and grabbed Stanley’s wallet and keys. He made sure there was money in the wallet before he started for the door.

He gripped the door knob for a moment and froze. Was this really a good idea? He wanted to go out on his own, but would he even be able to do anything alone? He so badly needed Stanley to help him, so why did he even want to attempt this?

The Narrator shook his head. 

No! Stop it! It didn’t matter if he thought he could do this or not. He needed to do it. If he wanted the best for Stanley and his relationship, he needed to do this. He took one last deep breath, opened the door, stepped out, locked the door behind him, and headed toward town.

It was around dinner time when he got into town, but there was thankfully only a light crowd walking around. The Narrator clutched Stanley’s wallet tightly in his hand as he wandered through the streets. He so badly needed to find the bookstore and prayed it would have what he needed.

While searching, the Narrator constantly whipped his eyes around to watch anything that moved. His heart raced in his chest and his palms became clammy. The more he walked, the more he doubted if the adventure was a good idea. He kept trying to reassure himself it was, but he was still terrified.

After a few very long minutes and near heart attacks, the Narrator finally stumbled along the small corner bookstore he noticed when the pair first came to town. He took a deep breath, swallowed his fear, and entered the store.

The store played a gentle melody of piano music and smelt strongly like new books and ink. The common senses helped the Narrator relax slightly as he walked a bit further into the store. A worker sat at the front counter, but they didn’t speak to the Narrator at all since they were invested in a book of their own. The Narrator, of course, didn’t mind that at all either.

As he walked through the shelves in the store, he felt himself relax a little bit more. The Narrator found himself pulling some books from the shelves and reading the summaries on the backs. There were so many books he never heard of before and so many more that sounded so interesting.

No, Narrator. Focus. He had a goal with this excursion, and he was already getting distracted. He could come back later to look on his own, but now was not the time. He quickly got himself back on track. 

The bookstore had a second floor and a spiral staircase leading up to it in a back corner. The Narrator finished searching the first floor for what he needed before he headed up the stairs in hopes to find what he needed.

The second floor was slightly more crowded than the first with a maze of bookshelves. It immediately overwhelmed the Narrator, but he took a deep breath and dove right in to continue his search. The shelves were covered with nonfiction, autobiographies, and, ah! There they were.

Instructional books were lined up on one of the further shelves from the steps. The Narrator scanned over the titles and his heart sunk into his stomach the further down he looked at the shelf. There weren’t many books to look at, but he couldn’t find what he came here for.

It wasn’t there. Maybe the store didn’t even have anything like it. The Narrator felt his heartbeat pick up intensity in his ears. No, no. It had to be here somewhere. He scanned through the titles again as his breathing became heavier.

Oh, my.. Would he have to ask the worker? The Narrator’s thoughts raced. He would have to ask the worker at the front desk if they had what he was looking for. He couldn’t do that! He would just embarrass himself to death if he tried.

What would he even say? He had to formulate exactly what he was going to say. He wanted to be pleasant, of course, but he would interrupt the employee’s reading if he asked a question. That was rather rude on its own.

Besides, they maybe didn’t even have the book. It would be horribly embarrassing to ask for something so outlandish. Was the book he searched for even a normal thing? He didn’t have the slightest idea.

The Narrator took a deep breath.

“I am doing this for Stanley.. Stanley is worth it.” He spoke to himself as he took another deep breath. If Stanley could put on a brave face despite all of his struggles, the Narrator could too. 

He took a shaky step to head back to the stairs but noticed another shelf of instructional books.

Oh, thank the lord.

The Narrator sighed with relief, approached the shelf, and checked the titles. He prayed that what he was looking for would be there, and amazingly, it was. Stanley was 110% worth the fears of talking to the employee, but the Narrator was more than overjoyed he wouldn’t have to, at least not for the moment. The Narrator nearly cried from pure joy as he pulled the book from the shelf. 

British Sign Language Dictionary . The Narrator opened the book and briefly flipped through the pages. This would definitely be a good spot to start, but he also noticed another book on the shelf titled A Comprehensive Guide to BSL . He picked that book out too and checked it over. They were the only two books about sign language the store seemed to have, and they both seemed like worthy purchases for both Stanley and his benefit.

With a smile, the Narrator held both books and walked down the steps to the ground floor. Upon reaching the floor, his smile faltered. Oh right, he would have to talk to the employee now. He would have to purchase the books.

The Narrator stayed at the bottom of the steps for a moment as he stared at the front desk. After a couple of minutes, he mustered up the courage to finally approach it. He kept repeating to himself that it was for Stanley. He was doing this for Stanley.

“Good evening!” The worker glanced up from their book, put a bookmark in it, shut it, and smiled at the Narrator. “Did you find everything you were looking for today?”

The Narrator hesitated and nodded before fully approaching the counter. He set the two books up and shakily retrieved Stanley’s wallet from his pocket. His heart was racing.

“Ah, wonderful.” They scanned the books happily and noticed his trembling hands. They did not comment on it nor did they ask the Narrator any further questions. He looked far too nervous for an interaction and thankfully the worker didn’t push a conversation.

“Alright, so these two will be 30 pounds please.” The worker smiled encouragingly at the Narrator, who struggled with the wallet immensely. His shaking hands did not aid him well as he nearly dropped it a few times.

After far too long of a struggle and embarrassing himself more than he thought was possible, the Narrator retrieved the money and held it out to the clerk. They continued to smile as they took the money, put it into the register, and put the Narrator’s books into a bag. They printed a receipt and added it into the bag as well.

“Thank you so much for coming in. I hope these books are helpful, and I hope to see you soon!” They set the bag at the edge of the counter for the Narrator to take. He grabbed it gently after a few moments of fumbling to put the wallet away. He nodded his thanks and headed toward the door, but he decided it wasn’t enough. The Narrator needed to be brave. For Stanley.

“T-.. Thank you. Have a lovely night.” The Narrator faced the worker as he spoke and flashed them a smile before leaving. His heart beat hard in his chest, but he did it. Once he left the door, he needed a moment to calm himself down. After a few deep breaths, he started back to Stanley’s house, bag in hand.

The Narrator finally unlocked the door after a few attempts and pushed it open slowly. He stepped inside and paused to listen for any movement in the house. Thankfully, there was none. The Narrator shut and locked the door behind him before heading to the kitchen. He set the bag down on the counter and returned Stanley’s wallet and keys.

There was still no sound of movement above him, but the Narrator wanted to check in on Stanley. He walked up to their bedroom and carefully peeked into the room. Stanley, as he expected, was still asleep and curled up in their bed. The Narrator smiled gently and resisted the urge to crawl in bed with him. After all, he had dinner to prepare.

While the Narrator was laying in bed with Stanley earlier, he realized that Stanley hadn’t eaten anything all day. That normally wouldn’t be in issue in the Parable, but they weren’t there anymore. The day they had definitely proved that to be true.

The Narrator returned downstairs and found the cookbook the pair had used the day prior to make dinner. Stanley helped him with it the day before, but the Narrator was sure he could do decently on his own. It did supply very detailed instructions after all.

He found the book and started to flip through the pages. There was a wide range of options to choose from, far too many in the Narrator’s opinion. To help him narrow it down, he looked around the kitchen to find the available ingredients he had to work with.

After a long back and forth between the book and searching through the shelves, the Narrator settled on something called “French toast.”  He knew for sure that they were not in France, and he was unsure why it was called such a thing, but it seemed simple enough to make. The Narrator collected all the ingredients, read the instructions multiple times, and started to cook. 

Now, the Narrator never claimed to be a chef, but he thought he did a pretty great job! He only got one eggshell into the bowl but quickly removed it, and he hadn’t burned a single piece of French toast yet. He hummed to himself as he transferred the cooked pieces onto a plate and added more to the pan.

Stanley slowly started to stir upstairs. The smell of dinner found its way upstairs, and Stanley woke up upon smelling it. He opened his eyes slowly and yawned. The Narrator was gone from his arms, so.. That meant he was probably the one cooking.

The Narrator… cooking. On his own too. Stanley thought it over for a moment in his head as he slowly sat up in bed. He yawned and stood up before stretching. Stanley rubbed his eyes and accidentally bumped the large scab that formed over the wound on his forehead. He hissed in pain and immediately decided to never do that again.

Stanley recovered from the pain quickly, walked over to his closet, and carefully pulled some comfortable clothes on. He decided he maybe should show some decency instead of walking around in just his underwear. Stanley turned and started to head toward the door. He originally tried to ignore the bloody wall beside the door, but there was nothing there to ignore.

The blood was gone. The wall and carpet were perfectly clean.

Stanley smiled gently. That Narrator was something else, wasn’t he? He cleaned up the mess that Stanley made and he was making dinner. Despite everything he put the Narrator through, he still went through the work to clean and cook for him. Stanley felt guilty, but he pushed those feelings deep into the back of his mind, much like he did with everything else. It was a problem for later.

But… Doing that is what caused this mess. Maybe he felt like he didn’t deserve this kindness, but the Narrator truly believed he did. Stanley frowned as he thought further about it. Could he have manipulated the Narrator to treat him sweetly when he did horrible things? He certainly felt like he had.

Yet, the Narrator had his own volition. It was sometimes hard for him to uncover it, but he had it. Stanley just needed to trust him. The Narrator knew what was the best for himself, so he could definitely form his own opinions on Stanley without outside guidance. 

Stanley didn’t manipulate him. It’s just what the Narrator believed, and he believed Stanley deserved the kindness.

The small thought process caused Stanley to smile, but he quickly realized that he spent far too long in his room and not eating. He spent no time in finally leaving his room and heading down the steps.

The Narrator finished plating up dinner, and he returned his attention to the bag with the books in them. He wanted to give them to Stanley after he ate, so he put them in the dining room for now. The Narrator returned to the kitchen and smiled wide when he saw Stanley standing there by the plate.

“Well hello there, Stanley.” The Narrator smiled. “Did you sleep well?” Stanley smiled, still a bit sleepily, and nodded. He returned his attention to the plate and pointed at it.

“Yes, yes, I made those for you, Stanley! All on my own too!” The Narrator beamed and grabbed the plate from the counter, causing Stanley to frown. The Narrator chuckled, “no need to worry, Stanley. I’m just setting them on the table so you can actually eat them.”

The Narrator brought the plate to the dining table and set it down on Stanley’s spot. There was already a fork and knife there for him too. Stanley trailed after him like a dog and wasted no time in sitting down, but he didn’t start to eat until the Narrator start down as well.

Once they both were situated, Stanley happily started to eat. He savored each and every bite he took. He wore a wide smile on his face the whole time.

“Are they really that good, Stanley?” The Narrator watched him happily. Maybe he could make Stanley dinner more often if he was this good! Stanley nodded in response to the question. He absolutely loved it. Even if it wasn’t as good as it was, he still would eat it. He was hungry enough where he wouldn’t care about the taste.

Stanley cut off a small piece of the French toast and held it out to the Narrator to try. Instead of refusing it and arguing like last time, the Narrator willingly took the fork and ate the small sample.

“Oh wow..” The Narrator gave Stanley his fork back. “I.. am pretty shocked in all honesty. I never made anything on my own before, and this turned out absolutely lovely!” The Narrator was proud of himself that dinner turned out so well. It was a really pleasant surprise for the both of them.

Stanley smiled at the Narrator’s excitement and continued to eat. The pair, rather the Narrator, talked about random stuff and mostly danced around the topic earlier in the day. The Narrator didn’t mention the scrapbook he found earlier, nor did he bring up his excursion.

After a while, Stanley finished eating and smiled at the Narrator. He nodded his thank you and started to stand up to clean the plate.

“Actually… Stanley, could you stay here for a little longer?” The Narrator’s tone shifted slightly to something more serious. Stanley looked at him and slowly sat down again. He immediately started to worry, but he nodded to the Narrator to continue.

“I... Bought you a little something. While you were asleep, I went out into town and got you something. Well, it’s kind of for the both of us, but it’ll especially help you.” The Narrator reached under his chair and pulled the books out of the bag. He handed them to Stanley, who carefully took them.

“Communication has always been a large challenge between us and I think today showed us how bad it can get.. I don’t want something like that to happen again.” Stanley stared wide-eyed at the books the Narrator gave him. He slowly started to flip through them.

“It.. was hard to get out there on my own, but I feel like it was absolutely worth it. I want you to be able to speak to me about things, and I hope you’ll be able to now. I know it’ll take a while to learn, but we can learn together.” The Narrator smiled at Stanley gently, hoping he liked the books as much as the Narrator did.

Stanley looked through the books for a moment longer before looking back at the Narrator. He nodded excitedly, and a huge smile spread across his face. He immediately got up from his chair and hugged the Narrator.

“Aw, Stanley! Of course, you are very welcome.” The Narrator smiled, and Stanley hugged him tighter. Stanley could only imagine how hard it was for him to go out to a store and buy something like this, but he did it all for him.

Stanley hugged him for a moment longer before he returned to his chair and flipped through the dictionary. He found what he was looking for and signed something to the Narrator. The Narrator raised an eyebrow and glanced at the book. Stanley showed him the sign in the book and repeated it.

[Thank you. Thank you.] Stanley wore a wide smile on his face as he signed, and soon the Narrator had the same expression.

“Oh this is fantastic, Stanley!! Of course, it’ll take some time to get good at it and to learn everything, but it will absolutely be worth it. For the first time in how many years, we can actually communicate.” The Narrator beamed. He didn’t think he had ever been this happy in his life. They finally could have a conversation.

Stanley stayed in his chair and looked at some of the other signs as the Narrator stood up to clean Stanley’s plate. Stanley signed ‘thank you’ to him again as he picked the plate up and both men smiled like dorks. This was going to be amazing.

The Narrator cleaned up the plate and the rest of the plates he used to make dinner rather quickly. While he was cleaning, he yawned a couple of times. The weight of the day’s events slowly started to pile on him. His day had been far too long, so he could definitely use some rest. He finished cleaning up and dried his hands. 

“Stanley, I think I might head upstairs to bed. Today was a lot, as we both know.” He chuckled to Stanley, who nodded in response. He closed his book and got up from his chair. “You don’t need to come up if you don’t feel tired. I know you just woke up.” Stanley shrugged and pointed to his books. The Narrator looked at him for a moment before he connected the dots in his head.

“Well I suppose you can practice a little bit while up there too.” The Narrator smiled and headed upstairs with Stanley trailing behind him. “I am overjoyed you like this idea as much as I do. I figured it was the best type of communication we could manage.” The Narrator entered the bedroom and pulled out his pajamas.

“I almost couldn’t find them, actually. I was scared that my plan would’ve been completely foiled.” The Narrator spoke as he got changed, and Stanley just sat down on the edge of the bed. He nodded along as the other spoke, just like usual.

The Narrator yawned a few times as he got changed, and he soon crawled into bed. After crawling under the covers, he realized how absolutely exhausted he was. The day was overwhelmingly long, it was insane to think it was only their second day out of the Parable.

Stanley adjusted himself and sat up in bed with the books in his lap and his back against his pillows. He looked at the Narrator and gently took his glasses before he set them on the bedside table.

“Hmm.. Thank you, Stanley.” The Narrator smiled at him before nuzzling into the pillow and shutting his eyes. He laid facing Stanley, but not cuddling up to him since he was sitting.

Stanley smiled at the Narrator briefly before he returned his attention to the BSL guidebook. He flipped through the pages and practiced each small image of the sign the pages described. Stanley wasn’t tired at all since his long nap earlier, so he spent the majority of his night learning how to speak.

Right around midnight, Stanley finally decided it was enough for the day. He shut the lamp off, set the books on the bedside table, and he adjusted himself to lay down in bed. Stanley immediately turned to his side and gently pulled the Narrator close to him. The Narrator had been clearly waiting for this, and he happily nuzzled into Stanley even though he was completely asleep. Stanley planted a gentle kiss on his head, shut his eyes, and fell asleep in no time.

Chapter Text

Stanley admittedly didn’t sleep very well. Throughout the night, he woke up multiple times but didn’t want to leave the Narrator. His head pounded from the earlier impacts, and soon the pain grew too much to ignore. Stanley carefully slid out of the Narrator’s grasp and silently walked into the bathroom, shutting the door silently behind him.

He covered his eyes with his arm as he turned the light on, as to avoid immediately being blinded. Slowly, he took his arm away and blinked quickly. His vision soon adjusted to the light, and he stared at the broken reflection of himself in the mirror.

It had to be the light that made him look so terrible, right? The giant wound on his forehead remained a deep crimson with some clear serous fluid leaking out slightly. Stanley sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair to get it out from his face, and mostly away from the wound. He gently ran a hand over his jaw and chin, a light stubble growing in addition to his usual soul patch. Dark circles sat under each of his eyes, and he could swear he saw more stress wrinkles between his eyebrows. It had to be the lighting. 

Part of him couldn’t believe the damage he did to himself. Another part of him knew it was only a matter of time. The stress was building too much on him, even he could tell that. He just reacted rather.. Extremely to say the least.

Stanley stared at the gruesome image of himself in the mirror for a moment longer before the intense pain hit him again. Yep, he needed some medication or something to ease his head. Then he could return to bed and cuddle with his amazing Narrator.

With another sigh, Stanley turned the bathroom light off and walked down the pitch black steps to the kitchen. He navigated the darkness like he had done it for years. Moonlight spilled into the window over the sink and helped Stanley see more around the room without needing the bright overhead light. 

The medication sat in a thin cabinet beside the fridge that Stanley located after opening and searching a few other cabinets. He had no idea what half of the bottles contained or what the pills inside them did, so he had to strain his eyes to read the labels in the low light. He knew it would be worth the effort to turn the light on, but he didn’t want to almost blind himself again.

After a few moments, he finally found some pain medication and took it without water. He swallowed it dry, returned the bottle to the cabinet, and walked to the window to glance outside. Stanley stared out at the beauty of the night sky for a moment. The stars were absolutely gorgeous. He made a little note in his head to show the Narrator the stars outside one night before he finally walked back up the stairs.

Thankfully, the Narrator was still nuzzled up in bed and sound asleep. Stanley smiled at the sight and slid back next to him. Almost immediately, the Narrator snuggled close to him and muttered something in his sleep. Stanley chuckled lightly and held the older man close. He planted a kiss in the Narrator’s hair before closing his eyes and relaxing.

Stanley’s headache eventually faded enough to allow him to fall back asleep around three in the morning. He thankfully stayed asleep for the remainder of the early morning.

The sun greeted both of the men in the morning, yet its rays thankfully missed them. The Narrator was the first to wake up this time, but he, much like Stanley before him, didn’t dare to get up yet. He instead took the moment to soak in the sight of Stanley.

He amazingly looked so different compared to the days in the Parable. The harsh and obnoxious fluorescent lights definitely did not do his beauty justice. He looked so much softer now and actually looked like a living human. He looked exhausted, but he still looked more alive than ever. 

Despite how handsome he was, the Narrator couldn’t help but stare at the angry wound on his forehead. He frowned, brought up his hand to cup Stanley’s slightly stubbled cheek, and gently kissed right between his eyebrows under the wound. He hoped it would heal and go away soon. It only served as a reminder of Stanley’s struggles.

After a few more gentle kisses, the Narrator slowly slipped out of Stanley’s arms and sat up. He figured he could treat Stanley to some breakfast and coffee. God knows he deserved it.

The Narrator slid over to the bedside table on his side of the bed and felt around for his glasses. Only then did he remember that Stanley graciously took them the night before. He sighed and finally stood up after a few more moments. He carefully navigated around the bed and picked up his glasses on the bedside table. 

Once he put them on his nose, he hissed lightly. The bridge of his nose had a good-sized bruise on it due to Stanley’s punch the day before and the pressure on it from his glasses caused a little discomfort. Maybe he would put some ice on it later if he remembered.

He gently hummed to himself as he walked to the closet to grab himself some clothes. The Narrator made sure he was quiet enough to not disturb Stanley’s sleep, but he couldn’t stand the silence of the room. He had more than enough time in complete silence.

The Narrator settled on a white dress shirt with a brown and yellow argyle vest over it, and a pair of khakis to tie it all together. He fixed up his hair and the rest of his appearance in the bathroom mirror. He stared at the bruise on the bridge of his nose for a second. The Narrator almost couldn’t believe Stanley did that. He finally turned away and walked downstairs. As he walked, he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows.

Once in the kitchen, the Narrator put the kettle on the burner and dug around the kitchen for a quick look at the available ingredients for breakfast. He continued to hum to himself, but stopped in his tracks when he noticed the bucket on the kitchen table.

“Well, look who it is.” The Narrator approached the table, but didn’t touch the bucket yet. “You were one of my best ideas. Emphasis on were .” Despite being a bucket, the Narrator still held a slight resentment to it for taking Stanley’s attention away from him. He glared at the bucket for a moment before he sighed and carefully picked the bucket up.

“I’m sorry, I know I must set my hatred aside. I know we have to work together to help Stanley. I can only do so much, but you can only reassure so much as well.” The Narrator returned to the kitchen and set the bucket back on the counter. “I have to set my jealousy aside. We need to work hand in hand… I guess, hand in handle. For Stanley’s sake.” The Narrator smiled at the bucket, but was soon interrupted with gentle laughter behind him.

The Narrator whipped around quickly to find Stanley leaning in the kitchen doorway and laughing. He remained in his pajamas and still had slight bedhead. 

“Stanley! How long have you been there?!” The Narrator’s face immediately turned bright red from embarrassment. Stanley continued to chuckle, and tilted his hand back and forth in front of him. He hadn’t been there long. The Narrator stayed blushing nonetheless. Obsessing over the bucket was Stanley’s thing, not his! Well.. Besides that one time.

“Moving on from that,” the Narrator coughed awkwardly and composed himself again. “I was going to make you breakfast and maybe some coffee too, but you’re up now too. You could help me if you’d like, then!” He smiled gently, hoping they could easily move past his embarrassing conversation with the bucket.

Stanley nodded and signed something to him. The Narrator raised an eyebrow in confusion for a moment.

“We should probably grab that dictionary again to help us, or rather me, out.” The Narrator smiled gently at him and Stanley happily headed back upstairs.

The Narrator smiled wider and started to prepare the coffee machine for Stanley. They both needed an easy day today, so the Narrator wanted to do whatever he could to make that possible. In the midst of him getting the coffee maker ready, Stanley came back downstairs with the BSL dictionary.

“Ah, thank you, Stanley. Were you up late practicing the signs?” The Narrator gently took the book and glanced at Stanley before flipping through the pages. Stanley nodded excitedly. He would sign more to him to answer in more detail, but he knew the Narrator wouldn’t be able to catch up for now.

After a moment, the Narrator found Stanley’s original sign he greeted him with a few minutes before and smiled.

“Well, good morning to you too, Stanley! I suppose I should study this on my own as well, shouldn’t I? We might have to test one another.” The Narrator set the book down on the counter for now and filled the coffee maker with water. Stanley nodded along and went to the fridge to get out eggs for breakfast. 

The two stayed in peaceful company of one another. Stanley helped the Narrator pick a tea for the morning, and the Narrator helped Stanley with making some eggs and toast. Stanley constantly signed ‘thank you’ to the Narrator, and he thankfully understood. 

“I’m hoping today will be easy for the both of us, Stanley. I believe we both need a break.” The Narrator spoke gently before he took a sip of his tea. Stanley nodded along happily in agreement. “Maybe today would be a good day for me to start studying sign language, hm? I really would love for us to actually be able to communicate. It’s been so long, and we haven’t even had a single solid conversation.”

Stanley nodded again as he put his breakfast onto a plate. He grabbed his coffee and sat at the table. The Narrator soon joined him with his mug of tea. 

The Narrator chatted happily as they sat together, but Stanley stayed silent like usual. Every so often, he added a little signed comment, but the Narrator had to turn to the book for a translation. Nonetheless, they carried the conversation pretty well despite the small hiccups. They enjoyed each other's company like always, especially after the day yesterday.

“I am rather curious, Stanley. Do you remember if you read all of those books in your study? You certainly have so many books scattered around your home. I wonder how many you got around to reading.” The Narrator looked up at him as he held his mug in his hands.

Stanley stopped eating and paused as he tried to think. He certainly didn’t know if he had, but he could assume he read a lot of them at some point in time. Stanley shrugged in response to him.

“Well.. At least this lapse in memory allows you to read every book like it’s new! That’s rather exciting, isn’t it?” The Narrator twisted the memory loss into something sweeter, and Stanley couldn’t help but smile. He nodded excitedly.

Stanley was never much of a reader in the Parable. In all honesty, he didn’t often have access to books. He never read much on his own, but he often enjoyed when the Narrator read to him. He assumed he would probably enjoy reading on his own due to always enjoying the books the voice read, but maybe he could convince the Narrator to read to him again.

After a few more moments, Stanley finished his breakfast. Even after he was done, he stayed at the table with the Narrator as he took his time finishing his coffee. The Narrator looked through the dictionary as they sat together, and Stanley lightly quizzed him with some simple signs. The Narrator struggled slightly for now, but he would soon figure it out.

The Narrator finished up his tea after a couple of minutes and stood up to boil more water. Stanley stood up as well with his plate and mug to clean up. He just set the dish in the sink for now. He would wash it later. They had all day to get to it, after all.

As the Narrator turned the stove top back on to heat the kettle, Stanley poured another cup of coffee into his mug. He then sat up on the counter and held his mug in his lap. The Narrator looked at him and chuckled.

“Do you really need to be that much taller, Stanley? You are already pretty tall as is.” The Narrator looked up at Stanley, who chuckled in response. Stanley set his mug down on the counter and opened his arms for a hug. 

The Narrator chuckled lightly and humored him, slotting himself between Stanley’s legs to lean into him. Stanley wrapped his arms around him and held him close. The Narrator laughed and wrapped his arms around Stanley’s waist. Their height difference made the hug a little awkward, but neither man minded at all.

Stanley took a moment to slowly tilt the Narrator’s head up to face him. He had to crane his neck a bit to do so, but Stanley frowned gently once he did. Carefully, Stanley lifted the glasses from his face and gently kissed the bruise on his nose, his lips barely touching the skin. 

“Oh, Stanley.. It’s okay. It barely hurts anymore.” The Narrator lied a little, but it truthfully wasn’t that bad. Stanley placed another featherlight kiss on his nose before he set the glasses back down and pulled him back into their hug.

They stayed in the close company of each other until the kettle on the stove began to whistle. The Narrator hesitantly pulled away from Stanley’s arms and poured the hot water into the same mug he used before. He reused the tea-bag Stanley picked for him earlier, set the timer, and quickly returned to Stanley.

Stanley chuckled once he returned to him and immediately took the Narrator back into his arms. He kissed the Narrator’s head and rubbed his cheek in his hair. 

“I can’t help it, Stanley. Your arms are insanely comfortable..” The Narrator squeezed Stanley’s waist tighter, and Stanley squeezed him tighter in response. They stayed together for longer without a single drop of regret. Stanley was often the one initiating their hugs or the one kissing the Narrator, so it was a nice change for the Narrator to start the affection this time.

The timer interrupted them, so the Narrator once again slowly pulled away. He took one of Stanley’s hands, kissed his palm, and moved to take the tea-bag out of his mug.

“I think now is a perfect time to settle down and read a book, hm?” The Narrator picked his mug up and grabbed the BSL dictionary as well. Stanley agreed and hopped down from the counter. He picked up his mug as well and headed toward the living room, trailing after the Narrator. On the way there, he grabbed a random book off of the shelf between the kitchen and living room.

Once in the living room, the Narrator set the mug down on the coffee table and happily settled down on the couch. He spotted the book he was reading the day before, but he opted to read the BSL dictionary instead. He let out a small sigh of relief as he opened up to the first page.

Stanley set his mug on the table as well and sat down. He turned the book he picked over in his hands and read the summary on the back. It said something about an AI on a space station, so that seemed interesting enough. It was another plus that the cover had a cool looking circular space station on it as well.

“Are you finally ready for a little break, Stanley? Nothing better than a book and a hot beverage.” The Narrator smiled as he looked at the man at the other end of the couch. Stanley nodded excitedly and opened up the new book he randomly grabbed. He wanted nothing more than this. The Narrator smiled wide and turned his attention back to the dictionary in his hands.

The silence wasn’t too bad since Stanley shared the space with the Narrator. The Narrator constantly glanced at him to ensure he was still there and still conscious. The skip button felt like it was so long ago, but it remained a fresh wound in the Narrator’s thoughts. The ending where Stanley remained unmoving in the two doors room was the same. He constantly told himself that it wasn’t like that anymore. Stanley was here with him, and they were enjoying the peace while both completely conscious and present.

Happily, the Narrator read through a few chapters parallel of Stanley doing the same. The Narrator took his time to carefully study the signs in the dictionary. They mirrored each other as they took sips of their perspective drinks and chuckled when they were accidentally perfectly in sync.

The Narrator brought his mug to his lips, but paused after his ears picked up on a quiet noise coming from upstairs. It was a little tune that he didn’t recognize in the slightest.

“Stanley.. Do you hear that? That little song?” The Narrator set his mug down and looked over the book to look at the man across from him. Stanley stayed still for a moment as he listened before he nodded. He stared toward the stairs with confusion and set his open book page down on the table to save his spot. The Narrator quickly shut the dictionary with another tissue bookmark.

“No, no. You relax, Stanley. I’ll solve this mystery for us.” The Narrator stopped him, knowing Stanley needed this downtime way more than him. He set his book to the side, stood up, and quickly gave Stanley’s cheek a small peck before heading up the stairs.

The Narrator walked up the steps and heard the little tune become louder. Once he got to the top of the steps, though, the music abruptly stopped. He raised an eyebrow and waited for a moment before slowly started to go back downstairs.

Of course, the song started again by the time he got halfway down the steps.

“Now.. What is going on?” The Narrator went back upstairs and quickly tried to locate where the music came from before it disappeared again.

He stood at the top of the stairs for a moment and listened. The Narrator determined it was coming from the small study, so he quickly opened the door and walked inside. He didn’t want the song to stop again before he found it.

The study was absolutely jam packed with shelves and books crowding each one. The shelves lined the far wall but were decently organized. In contrast, the desk was home to several open books, notebooks, and loose papers. The Narrator made a mental note to clean it up with Stanley’s help sometime in the near future, so the desk could actually be used.

After taking in the sight of the room, the Narrator walked to the desk, the source of the music. He stared at the piles of papers for a moment before he started to pick them up to try and find the song’s source. He set the piles and books on the desk chair for now as he cleared them up.

“Ah. There we are.” The Narrator finally located the source of the little tune. A silver rectangle sat on the desk with the screen lit up with some text that read ‘Wren.’ The Narrator carefully picked it up and stared at the screen. There were two little buttons underneath the name. He hoped he would know a solution once finding the music, but now he had no idea what he was even looking at.

“Stanley? I found something, but I don’t know what it is.” The Narrator stared at the device again before he started to head out of the room while holding it. “It’s making music, and it has some buttons and possibly a name.” He took his eyes away from the device in his hand and started toward the steps.

“I have never seen anything like it, Stanley! At least the music is ni-”

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!” The Narrator jolted and stared down at the device. The music had stopped and now there was a picture, no wait a video, of a person staring up at him. The Narrator remained speechless for a moment, unsure of what was going on.

“Stanley..?” The Narrator called as he kept his eyes locked on the video, so utterly lost and confused. “I think I need your help.” Instead of Stanley helping him like he wanted, the person on the video snapped at him.

“Yeah, you do need help!! What the hell are you doing in Stanley ’s house on Stanley ’s phone? Who even are you? Where the hell is he?” The Narrator had no time to answer the abundance of questions rapid fire asked at him. Almost on cue, to save him, Stanley came running up the steps. He moved and looked over the Narrator’s shoulder at the phone. 

Oh. It was Wren from the day before. Stanley didn’t have time for any pleasantries since Wren immediately started to panic.

“Good god, Stanley! What happened to your head?! Did the stranger do that to you?!” Wren was absolutely frantic at the sight. He certainly didn’t expect to see an old man and a massive wound on his friend’s head when he finally answered the phone after days. 

Stanley quickly shook his head. He needed to deny that accusation as quickly as possible. Wren, unfortunately, didn’t believe it for one second.

“I need to talk to you, Stanley. Alone . Without that.. Man there.” Stanley glanced at the Narrator and put his hand out to take his phone. 

“You want me to trust him with you alone, Stanley?! He is obviously aggressive! You know what happened last time I trusted you with someone inside a screen like this!” The Narrator harshly whispered to Stanley, thinking Wren wouldn’t hear him. 

“What the hell are you going on about?! Jesus Christ, I just need to talk to him! I can’t hurt him over the phone!” Wren protested, hearing every word the Narrator said. The Narrator glared at the screen slightly and was going to speak again, but Stanley stopped him. He pointed to his open hand. The Narrator hesitated for a moment but handed the phone to him. Stanley planted a gentle kiss on his forehead as a thank-you.

“I’ll be downstairs studying if you need me then, Stanley. Don’t hesitate to come get me if something happens.” The Narrator glanced once more at the screen before he left and went downstairs. He swore he saw that man before. Maybe he passed him in town. Stanley watched him go and walked to his bedroom with the phone. He sat down on the bed and stared at Wren on the small screen. Once they were alone, Wren started to talk again.

“Stanley, what the hell is going on? You absolutely need to go to a hospital for whatever happened to your head, and you have a stranger inside your house! I was worried something terrible happened to you! You didn’t come to work, and you still weren’t responding to anyone’s texts!” Stanley simply stared at Wren with confusion as he rambled. Wren sighed, getting frustrated.

“Jesus Christ, Stan! Set your phone down and talk to me! Do you not care that we have been worried sick about you?” Wren angrily ranted on.

Stanley stared at the screen for a moment before he carefully propped the phone up against the lamp on the bedside table. He recognized Wren’s face now, but he couldn’t process most of what he was talking about.

[I’m sorry. I’m sorry,] Stanley signed repeatedly, [I’m sorry.] Stanley apologized for not remembering. He apologized for making Wren and the others worry. He apologized for everything he couldn’t remember he did, or didn’t do. Wren sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his anger slowly dissipating.

“I just.. I don't understand, Stan! You disappear and act like you’ve never seen me before. Even now, you look like you're lost in your own home.” Wren watched Stanley fidget in front of him. “You don’t talk to anyone, but you suddenly have a random stranger in your house. A random stranger that you kissed! Not only that, but you have a massive wound on your forehead, and he has a busted nose!! There are dozens of questions, but you won’t answer anything.”

Stanley couldn’t even look at his phone. He fruitlessly tried to collect his thoughts on what Wren was saying. He held his hands in front of him, almost to sign, but they were completely still. Wren, knowing Stanley wouldn’t respond, continued on after a disappointed sigh.

“Joseph was asking about you today, Stanley. You haven’t been to work in almost two weeks now. You can’t just expect to disappear without consequences. What am I supposed to tell him? What were you doing? What are you doing now?” Instead of being angry, Wren sounded completely disappointed in Stanley. His tone caused Stanley to recoil slightly. He wanted nothing more than to sink into the bed and disappear.

[I..] Stanley attempted to sign something, but his hands tensed and froze in front of him again. The words and phrases he learned left his head suddenly. He felt cornered with no possible escape.

Wren finally seemed to notice Stanley’s state and his expression. Not only was he confused, he looked downright petrified. Wren finally decided to ease up on him.

“I just want to know what happened, Stanley. All of us do. Harris is worried sick. Aubrey and Mia are too. I told them I saw you yesterday, but then none of us heard anything from you since then. It isn’t like you to miss work, either. You aren’t acting like yourself. You don’t even seem like the same Stanley anymore.

“You left for a full week without a word and came back a completely different person.” Wren laughed weakly to himself despite his misery. “It’s like you don’t even remember who we are. Who you are.”

[I don’t.] Stanley’s hands seemed to move on their own. Wren stared at Stanley for a moment, letting his signing sink in.

“... What.?”

[I don’t remember.]

“Stanley. What do you mean you don’t remember? What don’t you remember?” Wren’s tone shifted to be completely serious, but quickly was on the verge of panic. Instead of responding to his question, Stanley fidgeted with his hands. He had far too much to say, but he didn’t know how to sign any of it. There was too much to explain.

He suddenly got an idea and grabbed the phone. With the phone in hand, Stanley ran down the hallway and downstairs.

“Stanley?! What are you doing now?” Wren questioned Stanley’s motives, but of course, Stanley didn’t respond. He simply ran down the steps and approached the Narrator, still with the phone in hand.

“Hello again, Stanley.” The Narrator smiled as he looked up from the dictionary and shut it with the bookmark. “Did you get that video person all figured out?”

Stanley shook his head and held the phone out for the Narrator to take. The Narrator’s smile dropped slightly as he took it. Stanley sat down next to him on the couch and gestured to Wren’s face on the phone.

“I don’t understand what you want me to say, Stanley. Yes, he is here, I can see that…

Well, hold on.. I feel as if I’ve seen him before.” The Narrator’s voice trailed off slightly as he realized the man on the phone looked familiar, more than just passing him once. He just couldn’t place where he had seen him, but his face seemed important. Important enough that the Narrator recognized it. As he thought it over, Stanley signed to Wren.

[Repeat.]

“Do you want me to repeat my question?” Stanley nodded, so Wren continued. “What question do you want me to repeat? I asked you a lot.” Wren spoke, and the Narrator focused on him more. He knew that face. Wren glanced at the Narrator, a distaste of the man growing in him.

[Last.]

“Oh yeah. Stanley, what don’t you remember?” Wren looked between Stanley and the Narrator. Stanley nudged the Narrator out of his thoughts and gestured for him to answer.

“Ah. I understand. You see, Stanley is just learning sign language. I suppose he wants me to help answer that one.” The Narrator opened his mouth to continue, but Wren interrupted him.

“That can’t be true, you’re a liar! Stanley knew sign language for as long as I’ve known him,” Wren interjected. He already didn’t have any patience for the Narrator since he did to not know him at all. To Wren, the Narrator was a stranger that possibly broke into Stanley’s house, or worse, kidnapped him for the week he was missing. At worst, he thought maybe Stanley had Stockholm syndrome, if the kiss before proved anything. Stanley shot a questioning glance at Wren and shook his head. He didn’t know any sign language before he got the book.

“Well.. I’m certain you don’t understand. Stanley has been having some lapses in memory lately.” The Narrator stepped up to act as an interpreter for Stanley’s thoughts. Where he normally felt terrified communicating with people, his fears subsided since the conversation was over the phone rather than face to face. He also was speaking for Stanley, rather than just sharing his own thoughts. 

Wren didn’t react as quickly, or aggressively, this time and stayed silent for a moment.

“Do you know what he does remember.?” Wren spoke softly, his tone becoming more gentle as he realized his anger was misplaced. He still didn’t know the Narrator’s motives, or even his name, so he still was reasonably uneasy with him. He didn’t know if he could trust the Narrator yet, but he didn’t really have another option.

“Well.. It is hard to know for sure. Stanley knew where his house was and where the shops are located around town, but he has a difficult time recognizing people and events. He has this thing on his calendar.. “Dinner at Harris’s” I believe. Neither of us have the faintest idea what that means.” The Narrator chuckled, even though the situation wasn’t funny in the slightest. “We don’t even know what day of the month it is!”

Wren stared at both of the men on the screen in total disbelief. He took a couple of moments to compose his thoughts and ask a question he truthfully didn’t want the answer to.

“Oh my god.. You didn’t react when I talked to you because you don’t even know who I am.. Am I understanding that right?” Wren didn’t want to hear, rather see, the answer he knew he would get.

Stanley frowned and nodded gently. The Narrator let Stanley speak for himself this time and handed him the dictionary to help. He flipped through the book and signed as he found what he needed.

[I’m sorry. I wish I could say I remembered you. I wish I remembered the people you keep talking about.] Stanley kept a frown on his face. He felt horrible about his lack of memory. He looked at Wren’s upset and concerned expression. Wren stayed silent for another minute.

“Wow..” Wren tried to collect his thoughts, but nothing came to his mind. He was attempting to process all the information dumped onto him, but his process was interrupted before he made any progress.

“The scrapbook!” The Narrator excitedly exclaimed. “That’s where I know your face from! The scrapbook with the flowers on it!!” Stanley glanced at the Narrator, a bit startled from the interjection. He not only saw the book, but he also saw the photos in it?

“The..” Wren thought for a moment before he continued, “The one Aubrey made for us? Doesn’t it say “our family” or something on the front?”

“Yes! ‘Family of Our Own’ if I remember right. I must admit, the beautiful cover is rather deceptive. I think it was the reason for the wound on Stanley’s head. You see, back when we were in the Pa-!” His speech was immediately cut off by Stanley elbowing him hard in the ribs. “Ow! What in the world was that for, Stanley?”

Stanley shook his head frantically. Wren didn’t need to know about the Parable. At least not for now. Stanley barely had it sorted out in his head, so he definitely didn’t need to spread his confusion to Wren. Plus, he only knew it would make Wren think he’s even more insane. The Narrator looked at him, confused, for a moment. 

“But it’s the reason you have the wound, is it not? I assumed you did it because you thought you would rese- OW!” Stanley elbowed him again and shook his head with a more serious look on his face. The Narrator finally understood. He rubbed his ribs carefully. “Good lord, Stanley, fine! I won’t talk about it.” Wren watched the interaction with even more questions forming in his head.

“I don’t understand.. What is going on?” Wren questioned again. “I feel like I’m understanding less and less the more you try to explain.” Stanley returned his attention to Wren and frowned.

[I’m sorry. It is really confusing for us too.] The Narrator watched the book as Stanley signed to also understand what he was saying.

“So.. You really don’t remember me, or the others?” Stanley shook his head no, regretfully.

“You don’t remember any of those pictures in the scrapbook..?” Another shake.

“And you don’t even understand scheduling that dinner with Harris.. That was just a day before you disappeared…

Is it true what he said? Did the book really cause you to do that to yourself.?” Wren desperately looked at Stanley. Stanley fidgeted for a moment before he nodded gently.

[I couldn’t remember anyone in it.. It made me feel terrible.] Of course, it was more complicated than that, but Stanley didn’t even know how to explain it to start. He couldn’t just say he thought he was reset like the Narrator tried to before. Everything was so complicated.

Wren stared at Stanley for a moment. He wanted to ask him to tell him more, but he had a feeling that he wouldn’t respond. He didn’t know if he was hiding something, or really just confused. Wren instead looked at the Narrator, directing his frustrations to him rather than Stanley.

“I still don’t even know who you are!” Wren focused on the Narrator again. He quickly wanted to think about anything else besides what happened with Stanley. “You randomly show up in Stanley’s house after he disappears for a week! I don’t know what your motives are or where you even met! Your nose is all bruised too! What the hell were you two doing?!”

“I promise I mean Stanley no harm! Stanley and I have been close for.. Quite a while.” The Narrator sighed as he tried to come up with a way to talk about everything without talking about the Parable. “It’s very confusing and difficult to explain. I’m so sorry. I wish I could explain it to you, but I really can’t right now. Just know that I really care about Stanley. I have no malicious intent, I promise.”

Wren considered what the Narrator said and watched him for a moment. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He had no other option but to trust him for now.

“Stanley, I’m going to come over after work, okay? I need to look at your head and see if we need to go to the hospital. I want to meet this.. Guy with you too. I promise I won’t tell the others anything yet, okay?” Wren spoke softly and watched Stanley. His immediate reaction was one full of nervousness, but he slowly nodded. Wren would help him. Wren was his friend, even if he didn’t remember it.

“Alright. I’ll be over around 6. Please actually let me in this time.” Wren smiled encouragingly and hung up the call. 

Stanley and the Narrator sat in silence for a moment once the call was hung up. Both were still processing everything Wren said, and processing that he would eventually be there in their home. He would be in the house in only a matter of hours. The Narrator had so many questions for Stanley that he didn’t even know where to start.

“Well.. I guess we’re going to be having a guest..” Was all that the Narrator could muster out. His mind raced.

The events sunk in much quicker for Stanley. He stared at the empty phone screen before he slowly leaned into the Narrator and hugged his arm. Stanley was shaking as he shoved his face into the Narrator’s shoulder.

“Stanley..? Oh, Stanley.” The Narrator set the phone on the table and turned to enable him to fully hug Stanley. While the Narrator’s own head spun, he knew that: a) Stanley was going through much worse, and b) he needed to be there to support Stanley so he had no time to worry about himself. He could either take care of himself or Stanley, and the answer was obvious who he would pick.

Stanley thought about the entire conversation. Wren was so frustrated with him originally, but he had a good reason to be. Stanley didn’t remember anything, but it’s not like he could explain why either. Talking about the Parable was a disaster in itself, so he couldn’t even attempt that, yet the Parable was the reason for everything. At least, he believed it was.

He didn’t even understand what the Parable did to him. He couldn’t explain what he didn’t even understand himself. The worst part was the Narrator didn’t seem to understand anything either. They both were left with so many questions without a single answer. At least the Narrator didn’t have memories from before the Parable, if he even existed before it. Or he just never talked about it.

The Narrator rubbed Stanley’s back gently as he hid his face in his sweater vest. Hadn’t he been through enough yesterday? Why couldn’t he just ever get time to relax?

“I’m sure everything will be fine, Stanley..” The Narrator had no way of knowing this, but he prayed it would be true. “I can talk to him for you. I’m sure he’ll understand if you need time. He is your friend, after all.”

Stanley remained unmoving in his arms for a moment. He took a deep breath and sat up on his own.

[I just.. Don’t even know where to start explaining.] He signed slowly to allow the Narrator to figure out what he was saying.

“I’m not sure if there’s a good answer for that, Stanley. We escaped from a huge mind control facility disguised as an office building and ended up here.” The Narrator chuckled dryly. “I’m not sure how well he’d take that.”

Stanley stared at the phone on the table in silence. He hesitantly reached out to grab it. He went to open the phone, but a place to enter a password came up. Stanley had absolutely no idea what it was, and the Narrator’s guess of ‘2845’ didn’t work either. Stanley frowned. He wouldn’t be able to see what his friends apparently messaged him about.

“It’s okay, Stanley. I’m sure Wren can help you when he gets here.” The Narrator smiled gently but felt the faintest squeeze on his heart. Better to ignore that for now. He had to focus on Stanley after all.

Stanley nodded gently and set the phone back down. Wren would be here. He realized it minutes ago, but it still hit him like a truck. Wren would be there to ask him questions that he couldn’t escape from. Wren would ask the Narrator questions that neither of them knew the answer to.

He took a deep breath and set his head in his hands. He tried not to touch his wound and instead settled the bases of his palms in his eye sockets.

The Narrator frowned and rubbed Stanley’s back softly. He soon moved closer and rested his arm around Stanley’s shoulders.

“Hey.. How about we just relax for now? We have about half the day left until Wren comes. We can keep reading or maybe go on a walk to help clear your head. How does that sound?” The Narrator spoke softly to Stanley. He absolutely wanted to do anything to avoid a crisis that could cause another near suicide. 

Much to his surprise, Stanley nodded. The Narrator happily placed a kiss on his temple and pulled away, so he could stand up.

[A walk sounds wonderful.] The Narrator smiled gently, happy that his suggestion actually worked.

“You should probably get out of those clothes into something more.. Presentable if we are going out.” Stanley stood up and looked down at his clothes. Sure, his sweatpants were torn in a couple places, but he thought his ‘Gotta be kitten me right meow’ shirt was classy. Stanley huffed gently in protest as he returned his gaze to the Narrator.

“Okay, okay.” The Narrator put his hands up defensively. “It’s fine. Wear whatever you want.” He decided it was best to let Stanley be comfortable in whatever he wanted for now. He didn’t want to stress the poor man out more over something as silly as his absolutely atrocious fashion sense.

Stanley smiled with his victory, but headed upstairs to put some fresh clothes on. He did sleep in those, after all. 

“Wh- You’re getting changed anyway?! Really, Stanley!?” The Narrator called after him, causing Stanley to laugh. The worry of Wren’s earlier call quickly faded away due to the two’s small back and forth. The Narrator sighed with a laugh from Stanley’s actions and stayed on the couch to wait for him.

Stanley quickly got changed and came back downstairs.

[Better?] He walked in front of the Narrator for his approval. He wore another graphic-tee, but thankfully with no text this time. The shirt had a cat on it with sunglasses. It was definitely an improvement, but the Narrator still was shocked by his terrible fashion taste.

“I suppose yes..” He paused. “Completely unrelated, but I think we should take you shopping for new clothes as well.” Stanley crossed his arms in mock-annoyance and pouted, but he couldn’t help but laugh. His laughter was contagious as always, and the Narrator soon joined him.

“Alright. Alright. It’s definitely suitable enough for a little walk around town.” The Narrator smiled gently and quickly grabbed his shoes by the door, putting them on. He hummed to himself as he thought over the call and the fact that Wren would be coming to their house. 

Stanley was much quicker in simply slipping his sneakers on, not bothering to untie or retie them. He waited beside the Narrator to finish up.

[Ready?]

“I actually have an idea, Stanley,“ he spoke as he stood up and straightened his vest, “How about we make dinner for Wren? It’s always easier to talk over a nice dinner, wouldn’t you say? That way we could buy some ingredients since we’ll be out anyway.” The Narrator beamed up at Stanley, very proud of his idea. Stanley thought it over in his head before he nodded.

[Good idea. That’s why I keep you around.] Stanley chuckled and kissed the Narrator’s forehead. He walked to the kitchen and gestured for the Narrator to follow. 

“Yeah. That’s the only reason, sure.” The Narrator grumbled, but obliged to Stanley’s gesture and trailed after him. Stanley glanced at the cookbook on the kitchen counter. The pair had used it a couple of times now, so he decided to grab a new one instead. 

He picked on at random and brought it back to the kitchen. He opened it on the counter for the Narrator to see and started to flip through it. Stanley knew the Narrator wouldn’t just pick a recipe for them to make, so he trusted fate and stopped at a random page.

“Hmm.. Teriyaki beef stir-fry.” The Narrator read the title and muttered the ingredients to himself. “That seems easy enough. Hopefully the store will have everything we need.” The Narrator read over the ingredients again before glancing around. He would need to write them down, since there was no chance of him remembering them all.

Stanley understood what he was searching for, opened up a drawer, and pulled out a small pad of paper and a pen. He set them down on the counter beside the cookbook.

“Thank you, my dearest Stanley.” The Narrator picked up the pen and quickly wrote a shopping list. He, of course, wrote it in cursive and also alphabetical order. Stanley couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.

“Alright.” The Narrator shut the cookbook, folded the shopping list, and tucked it into his pocket. “Are we all ready to go then?” Stanley nodded excitedly. His mind was completely off of the worries about Wren now. He was just going to have a fun outing with his Narrator and make a delicious dinner. With a smile, Stanley grabbed his keys and wallet and headed out the door with the Narrator.

When the two men eventually got to town, it was around lunchtime. They figured the store would be their last stop, so they had time to wander around for now. Stanley’s massive wound attracted some unwanted, but very warranted, attention, but thankfully no one stopped the pair due to it. The Narrator’s bruised nose also got a couple of glances, but not as much as Stanley’s head.

The crowd was decent, so the Narrator made sure to keep a tight hold on Stanley’s hand. They didn’t want to get separated again like last time. Stanley eventually settled on talking the Narrator for a walk around the outskirts of town, where the crowd was light.

During their walk, the Narrator kept in hand in Stanley’s and talked to him about some story ideas he was thinking of. 

“It’s rather unfortunate that I haven’t had any time to write since we got out, Stanley. There has just been far too much going on.” The Narrator talked with his free hand, gesturing lightly along with his words. Stanley nodded along as the Narrator spoke. He really would love to read what he wrote again.

[I miss your stories.] Stanley signed as well as he could with his one free hand. The Narrator understood some of what he signed, but mostly inferred the rest.

“I’ll have to write something specifically for you then once I get the chance.” The Narrator smiled, and he continued to walk with Stanley.

The Narrator rambled on about small topics with Stanley’s small comments, but he eventually got quiet. Stanley glanced at him, raising his hand to sign to ask him what was wrong, but he stopped. The Narrator’s eyes were wide, and he was staring off beyond the fence on the path. Stanley followed his gaze and his jaw dropped.

To say the sight was breathtaking would be an understatement. There was a small drop-off from the fence and then a large field stretching out as far as the men could see. The field was covered with different colored wildflowers that scattered amongst the vibrant green grass. Bees and butterflies happily floated from flower to flower.

“Oh my..” The Narrator started at the field. He dropped Stanley’s hand without noticing and approached the fence. He carefully set his hands on the top rail and leaned over it slightly to get a closer look. 

Stanley smiled wide and soon stood beside him.

“This is gorgeous..” The Narrator’s eyes were immediately drawn to the bright pinks and yellows. He didn’t know the world could be this beautiful. He didn’t know plants could be that vibrant of a blue! The sight completely enraptured him.

Those seemingly years he spent hidden in the mind control facility kept him from this beauty around him. A soft breeze danced between the wildflowers and grasses before it greeted the pair of men. The Narrator took a deep breath of the fresh air. Had he really been missing this for so long? If he knew this was out here waiting for him, he certainly would have escaped eons ago!

Stanley watched the Narrator’s wide eyes full of wonder and smiled wider. He looked at the flowers and noticed a few right by the edge of the fence. Seeing an opportunity, Stanley kneeled down and plucked the largest yellow flower from a small plant. He stood up straight again and tucked the flower behind the Narrator’s ear.

The gentle touch pulled the Narrator’s attention away from the field and caused it to land on Stanley. Stanley smiled widely like a dork.

[It looks good on you.] The comment caused the Narrator to smile back and blush gently.

“Thank you, Stanley.” The Narrator looked back out at the flowers for a moment before he returned his gaze to Stanley. “Isn’t it amazing how the world can just.. Look like this? I would never have been able to make something so beautiful in the Parable, but it happens so naturally here. It’s incredible.” He was absolutely mesmerized by the sight.

Stanley could only join him in smiling wide. He couldn’t wait to take him to see the stars. 

The Narrator remained at the fence for a while until Stanley set his hand on top of the Narrator’s and gave him a glance that could be understood as a hint for them to continue walking. The Narrator kept his hands on the top rail for another moment before he broke away and fully gripped Stanley’s hand.

“I suppose we should continue our trip. We need to get things for dinner after all.” The Narrator smiled at Stanley, who happily smiled back. 

Stanley knew Wren would be coming over, but he attempted to shove it into the back of his head for now. He was just going to make a lovely dinner with the Narrator. Maybe a guest would show up, but that would be a grand and totally unforeseen surprise if it happened! 

The Narrator took one last look at the field before he continued on with Stanley. He kept the flower tucked behind his ear, which Stanley admired. He really picked a perfect one for him.

The pair continued their little walk until they looped around the entirety of town. By the time they approached their original starting point, the crowd had slowed down extremely and the streets were nearly empty.

“Shall we head to the store then and get everything for dinner?” The Narrator questioned Stanley, their hands still locked together. He received a nod in response, and they started their journey to the store.

Compared to last time they were in the building, there were slightly fewer people there too. Of course, the Narrator didn’t complain for even one second as he walked beside Stanley. This trip was definitely more successful compared to the last as well. The Narrator read out the list of things they needed, and Stanley happily grabbed them. Stanley, being the stubborn man he was, refused to grab a bin to put everything in so he instead held everything in his arms. Each new product added to the stack only caused the Narrator to sigh.

The two finally finished up after around 30 minutes and approached the front to pay for everything. 

“Yo! Stanley! There you are again!” The same worker from a couple of days ago noticed the pair and waved them over. “Your silent friend returns too!”

The Narrator was far from the “silent friend,” yet he stayed quiet as he helped Stanley unload everything onto the small conveyor belt. With his hands now freed, Stanley signed.

[Hello! How have you been?] Stanley believed this would be a better time than any to test out his sign language skills as well. The worker beamed once seeing Stanley’s hands move.

“I’ve been doing pretty alright! Working like usual. I’m glad your hands seem to be working again.” The worker chuckled as they started to scan all the groceries. “Aubrey came in just a bit earlier today. You just missed her.”

[I’ll see her soon thankfully, so no worries.] Stanley lied, but smiled at the worker. Aubrey was nothing more than a name and a face to him, but he didn’t need to reveal that to the worker. He still had no idea if he and the worker were close friends, or if they were just acting nicely. Their face wasn’t present in the scrapbook, so they must not have been that close.

The worker continued to communicate back and forth with Stanley as they scanned the groceries. While concerned, the friend didn’t comment on the damage both men had on their faces.

The Narrator stared at the interaction as it took place. He was proud of Stanley for being able to speak like this, but part of it stung in his chest. It was difficult for him to settle on what the reason for the pain was. He must’ve been jealous of Stanley’s ease to communicate. That must’ve been it. He wouldn’t be jealous for any other reason, absolutely not.

“Alright! You are all set then, Stanley. I’ll see you around soon, alright?” The worker smiled wide at Stanley and the Narrator. Both smiled back, waved, and left with their bags.

[Are you alright?] Stanley asked as he moved his two bags into one hand to sign to the Narrator. [You got quiet again.] The Narrator smiled gently.

“I appreciate the concern, but I am perfectly alright, Stanley. I just didn’t want to interrupt the conversation. You did absolutely amazing, though!! Your sign language is definitely getting better, and so quickly too.” The Narrator beamed at Stanley. He lied a little to save himself any embarrassment, but he didn’t want to skip on the much deserved praise.

[Thank you!] Stanley happily signed and wore a huge smile on his face. In truth, he was surprised with how well he was doing too. The more he signed, the more he felt like he remembered from before the Parable.

The Narrator kept the massive smile on his face as well and the two men walked home. They had some dinner to make for a special guest after all.

Stanley unlocked the front door with ease and held it open for the Narrator to enter. The Narrator thanked him, walked to the kitchen, and set the bags on the counter. Stanley soon followed him after locking the door and set his bags down as well.

“Alright.” The Narrator rolled his sleeves up again and washed his hands. “We have some time before we have to worry about getting dinner ready. Should we do anything else to get ready for your friend?”

Stanley started to put the groceries again and thought about the question as he did. He took a quick detour to glance into the dining room.

[Probably clean a little more.] Stanley faced the Narrator again and gestured toward the room. They definitely needed to tidy up a bit more to clear the rest of the table and the chairs. It was only one person coming over, but Stanley could at least look a little more organized for Wren. He would probably take him more seriously if everything was clean.

“Good idea, Stanley. We’ll finish putting the groceries away first, and then we can figure out where to put those papers and such.” The Narrator smiled wide and dried his hands. After he finished, he quickly joined Stanley in putting the food away. He really hoped that Wren would enjoy the meal.

Stanley and the Narrator finished putting everything away, and Stanley walked to the dining room. There was a lot of stuff to put away, but he had no clue where to put everything. It seemed like there were too many important things with too little space.

“Hm. I think this may be a bit more difficult than we expected. I would recommend we can put this all in the study, but I think it has more than enough clutter in it already.” The Narrator frowned.

[We could still put it in there for now.] Stanley signed and looked at the Narrator, knowing he wouldn’t like that idea one bit. The Narrator huffed.

“W-What? Stanley, what are you thinking? That would just make a bigger mess! It wouldn’t solve anything if we just shoved everything in there.” The Narrator looked at all the papers and folders and walked to the shelf to see if he could fit anything there. Of course, there was no room.

[It would only be for the night. We’ll clean fully tomorrow.] Stanley continued to sign at the Narrator. Despite him moving around, the Narrator kept his eyes on Stanley’s hands so he could understand what he was saying. After a moment of consideration and a sigh, the Narrator agreed.

“Alright. Just for the night. Only because I really am at a complete loss about where else to put them.” The Narrator sighed. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this. 

Over the next half an hour, Stanley and the Narrator moved papers, folders, and the laptop upstairs to the study. The Narrator hated putting the piles on the floor or on top of the cluttered desk, but he didn’t really have another option. Stanley gently patted his shoulder each time to try and keep him from giving up and breaking down about the clutter.

“Oh Stanley. This is just dreadful.” The Narrator stared at the room after everything was brought up. He frowned, and Stanley put his arm around his shoulders.

[It won’t be here long.] Stanley kissed his temple and pulled away after a moment. He took the Narrator’s hands and slowly guided him out of the room for now. Once outside the room, Stanley shut the door behind them.

[Now how about that dinner?] The Narrator smiled gently at the mention.

“Alright. Alright. Let’s get cooking.” If anything could pull him out of his disappointment for what he had just done, it would be cooking beside Stanley.

Together, they walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Stanley happily opened the cookbook up again to the recipe. The Narrator read over the ingredients again and started to collect them from the fridge and around the rest of the kitchen. This would certainly be more fun than whatever that “cleaning” was.

“Stanley? Did I cut these right?” The Narrator glanced over at Stanley, who was busy frying up the small beef chunks in the pan. Stanley looked over, and the Narrator held up a broccoli floret.

[Maybe a little bit bigger, but you’re doing amazingly.] Stanley smiled as he signed. At first, he was hesitant to let the Narrator use the knives, but he honestly had no good reason to stop him. With the little praise, the older man smiled and returned to cutting the broccoli. He left them in bigger chunks like Stanley suggested.

The Narrator hummed to himself as he moved to cut some bell peppers as well. The company between the two was lovely, but he still wanted a bit of noise to fill the air. Stanley noticed and smiled gently, enjoying the Narrator’s soft hum.

“Oh Stanley, we should really get a radio of sorts.” The Narrator smiled and Stanley nodded excitedly in response.

[Your voice is lovely enough on its own too.] Stanley smiled at the Narrator, causing him to blush slightly. It wasn’t uncommon for them to casually flirt, but the comments often affected the Narrator more than they did Stanley.

“I can’t believe you aren’t tired of my voice already. I mean, how long have you been stuck listening to me ramble on?” The Narrator finished cutting up the vegetables as he spoke. He put them all in a bowl and set them next to Stanley to cook in the pan once he finished cooking the beef.

[I can’t get tired of your voice.] Stanley smiled adoringly at him. He already spent too long without the Narrator’s voice in the skip ending. He would do anything to prevent that from happening again.

“You’re such a sap, Stanley.” The Narrator looked away to hide his blushing face. Stanley could see the red on his face despite his efforts to hide it and smiled wide.

Both men continued to cook everything up in the company of one another, and soon they finished preparing dinner. It was almost time for Wren to arrive, and Stanley was getting anxious. He cracked his fingers multiple times until they couldn’t crack anymore. The Narrator washed the pots as Stanley set up the table for when Wren would arrive.

The Narrator looked over at Stanley once he finished washing everything. He sighed.

“Stanley. I am sure everything will be just fine. If it isn’t, I’ll be right here to support you.” The Narrator tried to smile encouragingly, but Stanley still frowned. He took a deep breath and attempted another approach.

“This is definitely very scary for you. This person who you don’t know is coming over, even though you knew them for apparently years. But.. This is an important step in getting your memory back. It’ll be worth it in the long run, I’m sure of it.” The Narrator smiled and walked to Stanley, taking both of his hands in his own. 

“Wren is your friend, I don’t think he’ll be cruel to you when you are struggling. He’ll introduce you to everyone else again, I’m sure. You’ll meet up with your other friends and.. Your life will go back to normal.”

Stanley stared at his hands in the Narrator’s and nodded gently. He leaned his head against the Narrator’s, careful to avoid the wound on his forehead. Stanley softly moved one of his hands to fix the flower tucked behind the Narrator’s hair. He then took his hands fully away for one moment to sign.

[As long as you’re here too.]

“Always, Stanley. Always.” The Narrator smiled, rested his hand on Stanley’s cheek, and gently kissed Stanley. Stanley couldn’t help but smile into the kiss before pulling him into a tight hug. As long as he had the Narrator with him, everything would be okay. In a world of uncertainty, he knew that for sure.

Almost on cue, there was a knock at the door.

Chapter Text

Stanley averted his attention to the direction of the door. He squeezed the Narrator tightly one more time before he slowly broke away from him. He walked to the door, took a deep breath, and finally opened it.

The tall stranger stared down at Stanley with wide eyes. Calling Wren a tall stranger was absolutely justified as he towered slightly under 15 cm over Stanley. Wren was still dressed in his work clothes, consisting of a shirt similar to Stanley’s old one with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black slacks. His hair was just a shade lighter than Stanley’s and almost looked blond in some parts due to the setting sunlight.

Wren originally held his computer bag in his hand from work, but he quickly dropped it once seeing Stanley open the door. After dropping it, he wasted no time in pulling Stanley into a tight hug. Stanley stood on his toes and weakly wrapped his arms back around him.

“Jesus Christ Stanley… You’re actually here.. You actually opened the door.” Wren gripped him tightly as he held him. Stanley didn’t react at first, he just stood there perfectly still for a moment on his toes. Sure his arms were around Wren, but they were barely holding onto him.

Wren was still a stranger to Stanley. A stranger that came to his house and was hugging him. Was he supposed to hug back? He didn’t even know the guy.

But he did know him. At one point he did, at least. The scrapbook and Wren’s own words claimed it to be true. They were close at a time. Apparently they were very close. Wren came to his house to check on him because he was worried. Wren cared about him long ago, and he obviously still did.

Before he knew it, Stanley’s eyes welled with tears, and he tightly gripped onto the back of Wren’s shirt. He hid his face in Wren’s shoulder and clung onto him like his life depended on it.

“Oh Stanley..” Wren started to rub Stanley’s back softly. After another moment, Wren carefully picked Stanley up and continued to hug him. Stanley wrapped his arms around Wren’s neck and kept his face hidden as he sobbed.

Wren was the only connection Stanley successfully made to his life before the Parable. Without meeting Wren again, he and the Narrator would be alone in their attempts to find his past. He probably wouldn’t even think he had a life before its events. Wren was there to remind him he lived before.

“It’s okay, Stanley.. I’m here. I’m here.” Wren cooed gently in an attempt to comfort him.

[Sorry sorry sorry,] Stanley signed onto Wren’s back. He couldn’t sign it properly due to their closeness and resorted to doing it on Wren’s back. Thankfully, Wren understood.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Stanley. Absolutely nothing. I’m just so glad you’re back, and you answered the door at all.” Wren spoke softly, still cooing slightly. He didn’t want to scare Stanley off.

Stanley shook his head against Wren. He had so much to apologize for. He felt absolutely terrible. He had abandoned all of his friends for a week. This person who cared so deeply about him wouldn’t even get a reason for why he was gone. 

The two men stayed together for a bit longer until Stanley’s sobs finally calmed down. Wren carefully set him back on his feet and smiled gently at him. Stanley couldn’t help but smile back as he wiped his tears.

[Thank you so much.]

“Don’t mention it, Stan. I’m just doing what I can for my friend.” Wren smiled wide. Stanley caught the sob in his throat before it escaped his lips again. He was his friend. Wren finally looked past Stanley to see the Narrator standing in the living room, just silently watching the interaction.

The Narrator’s heart had taken residence in the massive pit in his chest. He fidgeted with his hands in front of him and adjusted his glasses once Wren looked at him. He straightened his back and tried to look more dignified. First impressions are important, even if it wasn’t an actual first impression.

“So.. is that your friend, Stanley?” Stanley stepped out of the way and let Wren enter the house fully. He quickly grabbed the computer bag from outside, set it inside, and finally shut the door. Stanley nodded and looked at the Narrator. He gestured lightly to the Narrator for him to introduce himself to Wren.

“Oh.. uh..” The Narrator took a few steps closer, constantly looking at Stanley for approval. “I’m the Narrator.”

“The Narrator?” Wren looked at him with nothing but complete confusion. He cocked one of his eyebrows. “Your name is the Narrator?” Wren quickly glanced at Stanley, unsure if the man was joking or not.

The Narrator nodded as he swallowed hard. This already wasn’t going well. Thankfully, Stanley saved him from trying to explain himself.

[We made some dinner if you are hungry.] Stanley smiled gently at Wren, and Wren returned the smile. The Narrator let out a small sigh of relief and gave Stanley a quick, thankful glance.

“Oh is that what I smell? That would be absolutely wonderful. I haven’t eaten since like 11.” Wren happily followed Stanley to the kitchen, and the Narrator followed Wren at a very safe distance. The Narrator watched him with careful eyes. His chest hurt so bad.

“Wow! Stanley, you made this? It looks incredible! When did you get so good at cooking?” Wren watched as Stanley served up the food onto three plates. The one he decided would be the Narrator’s had significantly less than the others.

[Narrator helped me actually! He is quite the cook.] Stanley smiled and shot the Narrator a supportive look. The Narrator smiled gently back at him, but his smile dropped slightly once Wren looked at him as well.

“Well I guess tasting it will be the real test of how good it is.” Wren flashed the Narrator a gentle smile, but he had already averted his gaze to the floor. Wren’s smile faded. He definitely didn’t expect “the Narrator” to be like this. Or to be so short in all honesty.

Stanley quickly grabbed the plates and brought them to the dining room. Wren took the plate he left behind, and they set the table. Stanley made sure the plates were in the right spots with him at the head of the table and the Narrator and Wren sitting across from each other. He gestured for Wren to sit down in the correct seat before he returned to the kitchen to fetch the Narrator.

[Narrator, are you okay?] Stanley stood in front of the Narrator and looked at him with worried eyes.

“I am… frightened slightly. I don’t want to mess it up with him, but I feel like he isn’t taking me seriously at all.” Of course, the Narrator had other feelings as well, but those could stay hidden for now.

[That isn’t true. You’re just a new person for him. It’ll be okay. I’ll help you.] Stanley pulled the Narrator into a hug, and he hugged back tightly. Even if he was scared, Stanley was there. Everything would go just fine with Stanley there.

“Thank you, Stanley. Thank you so much. Let’s just hope this goes well.” The Narrator smiled gently.

[It will. Talking over food is easier like you said.] Stanley smiled wide, held his jaw in his hands for a moment, kissed the Narrator’s nose softly, and returned to the dining room. The Narrator kept a smile on his face and followed after him.

Wren hadn’t eaten without the others there, so when they sat down, he finally started to eat. Stanley soon joined him in eating, but the Narrator sat there with his hands folded in his lap. Wren glanced at him after a few seconds and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you going to eat too uh.. The Narrator?” Wren kept his eyes on him as he waited for a response.

“Oh, well.. I don’t actually need to e-..” No, Narrator. You need to be normal. You need to be a normal person.

“I ate a bit earlier.” The Narrator quickly corrected himself. He glanced back at Wren with a weak grin, but he couldn’t hold eye contact for longer than a few seconds. While still absolutely confused, Wren nodded slowly. 

“Oh, okay.” The room went quiet after that.

Silence sat in the room for a bit too long. Instead of eating anything more, Stanley and Wren poked awkwardly at the food in front of them. The Narrator was tense, the silence getting to him a little too much. He fidgeted with his hands and sleeves in his lap and kept his eyes down. Stanley glanced between the two other men, but didn’t sign anything. After about a minute of silence, Wren finally took a deep breath and broke the silence.

“So..” Wren poked his fork into a piece of beef. He ignored the massive elephant in the room and asked something to hopefully answer one of his smaller questions. “How did you two meet?” 

Stanley and the Narrator quickly exchanged worried glances. Both of their brains started to work overtime to try and figure out what to say. Being fully honest was completely out of the picture. The awkward silence returned to the room for a moment before Stanley signed.

[I met him while I was away.] Stanley was the first to say anything and it wasn’t a complete lie. Wren stared at Stanley for a moment. Instead of directly asking him about what he even was doing while he was gone again, he took a deep breath and asked another, hopefully basic, question.

“Alright then.. Where do you come from? I don’t think I’ve seen you in town before.” Wren looked at the Narrator for an answer. Stanley and the Narrator exchanged panicked glances again, so Wren assumed it was another bad question. He quickly coughed awkwardly and tried once more.

“Do you.. Work at all?” Wren nervously glanced between them, hoping an actual answer would come up this time. Much to his joy, Stanley nodded excitedly and answered for the Narrator. This was the most perfect question to get the Narrator speaking more.

[He’s a writer!] Stanley smiled, thankful they could actually answer one of Wren’s questions, and it was one that would delight the Narrator too. Stanley knew the topic of writing would cheer the older man up, and it indeed did. The Narrator smiled gently upon seeing Stanley’s response and nodded. 

“Oh really? That’s super cool! What kind of stuff have you written?” Wren addressed the Narrator this time and waited for his response. The Narrator beamed as he answered. 

“I’ve written some scripts, but I unfortunately left them behind.. I really need to get back into writing, but I haven’t had the time since Stanley and I es- got here.” The Narrator smiled gently. “In truth, wrote mostly about Stanley.”

“You did?” That greatly piqued Wren’s curiosity.

“Mhm! I would write several little stories about him. None of which he would follow.” The Narrator playfully glared at a quickly stone-faced Stanley before laughing, letting his words slip because of his excitement. He never got to talk about his stories to anyone beside Stanley, who was also often the main character. “I would set up a certain path for him to follow, but he wouldn’t do any of it!” While the Narrator was as happy as ever, Stanley’s heart dropped.

This was not good. Not good at all. Stanley glanced at Wren and watched the confusion grow on his face. Panic started to set in. He gently kicked the Narrator under the table to stop him from speaking, forced a smile, and signed to Wren. 

[It was a fun game we would play. He would write a story for me to follow, but I liked to break the rules a bit.] Stanley forced a playful smile, hoping Wren wouldn’t see past the facade. Unfortunately, Wren evidently knew Stanley better than he knew himself. Before he had the chance to point out the blatant lie, the Narrator continued.

“Oh, you for sure liked to break the rules!” The Narrator chuckled and looked at Wren, who stared back with slightly furrowed brows. The Narrator failed to notice. “Stanley one time confused the story itself, and we found a room where everything was planned out without us knowing!” Stanley’s false smile completely dropped now. Why did he have to keep speaking?

“That ending really confused us, that’s for sure! We certainly had to take a break after that one. Being an author and discovering your story is out of your control really does mess with your head, you know?” The Narrator continued to chuckle while the men sitting with him were far from joyous. Stanley stared worryingly at Wren and Wren glared between the Narrator and Stanley. Oh, this wasn’t going well at all.

The Narrator stopped talking to catch his breath slightly, and finally looked around at Stanley and Wren. His smile dropped slightly.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something offensive?” The Narrator’s tone shifted more to one of worry as well. He loved talking about his stories, but did he make Wren feel talentless? Oh, no. Maybe he made it sound like Stanley was more of a deviant than he actually was. Stanley smiled weakly and signed.

[No, it’s okay.] He looked at Wren with a slightly panicked expression, feeling backed into a corner. [He has quite the imagination, you know? He likes to pretend his stories are real in order to better write them. It’s just stories though, none of them are real of course.] Stanley maintained his weak, almost pitiful smile, but Wren decided not to take this nonsense anymore.

“That’s a flat-out lie, Stanley. I can tell that easily.” Wren’s tone was flat and serious. “I have no idea what he was talking about, but I know it’s not just playing pretend.” Stanley’s already weak smile immediately dropped, and the Narrator tensed. Stanley went to sign another excuse, but Wren stopped him.

“I just want to know the truth, Stan. Dancing around the secret like this isn’t getting us anywhere, all of us know that. I want to know what happened to you during the week you were gone. That’s all I ask.” Wren looked at Stanley before glancing at the Narrator for a moment. The Narrator’s heart returned to the deep, nearly bottomless, pit in his chest. He screwed it all up. He caused this because he couldn’t stop talking. What’s new?

The room was thick with nervousness, awkwardness, worry, and a tinge of frustration. The Narrator definitely was out of the picture for speaking, so it all relied on Stanley. Like usual. He took a moment before responding.

[It’s hard to put it all in a way you’ll understand. We barely understand it ourselves. I told you that before.] Signing came much easier to him now. Stanley definitely felt like his memory of it was returning to him more and more. He was so glad it came back for this conversation.

Wren didn’t take the answer well. He took a deep breath to try and calm down the frustration boiling inside of him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and kept his fingers there before he started to speak.

“Alright. Let’s see if I understand the basics. You disappeared for a week with no explanation, came back with a complete stranger, and lost your memory of anything before that week. Is that me understanding it correctly?” 

Stanley looked back at Wren. Putting it that way made it sound like they were absolutely insane even without knowing the crazier details, but it was true. Stanley nodded gently but added on.

[Narrator is no stranger though. I know him really well.]

“You know him well in a week.” Wren crossed his arms and looked at Stanley before looking at the Narrator for a comment. The Narrator stared back with wide eyes, his brain trying hard to come up with something. He couldn’t hide away this time. He had to respond. He had to face the consequences of him ruining everything.

“I.. it’s very intricate. The situation we were in.. transcends normal human reasoning and understanding..” He spoke meekly and shakily. It hurt so badly to speak. The room was getting too hot for him. His clothes were suddenly itchy.

“So you both are planning to just not say a single thing to me? I come here because Stanley over here has memory loss and an insane wound on his head, and I can’t even depend on you to give me the story. You, the self-proclaimed writer, can’t give me a real story! Non-fiction! You rambled on before, but now you can’t say a single thing! You just pull some fantasy bullshit excuse! This is real “The Narrator,” not some story! I can’t even trust that you didn’t do this to him!” Wren stared angrily at the two men. No one said anything for a minute, but Stanley finally spoke up.

[Wren.. you’re making this much harder.] Stanley looked at him. Wren’s expression stayed hardened for a moment, but softened only slightly from the accusation. He was being rather harsh, wasn’t he?

“You can understand my frustration though, can’t you? I am trying so hard to understand whatever happened to you, but you won’t even try to explain it to me. You won’t even make an attempt to tell me anything. It’s so hard to sit here with you and a complete stranger while knowing you both don’t intend to tell me anything.”

[Think about how the Narrator and I feel. We don’t know you either. We barely know anything. We aren’t withholding information from you because we don’t want to, we just don’t know how to explain it to ourselves in a way that seems logical.] Stanley looked at Wren as he signed, but glanced at the Narrator when he finished.

The Narrator stared with unfocused eyes at his hands in his lap. Thoughts raced through his head and he wanted nothing more than to run. Everything was too much. Everything around him sounded muffled. The air felt thick. He quickly realized he wasn’t a fan of Wren. Even if he was Stanley’s friend, he was being rather rude toward both of them. Especially towards him. He didn’t take him nor his stories seriously at all. 

Stanley could almost watch the thoughts race around the Narrator’s mind. He gently tapped him to draw him away from his often dangerous thoughts. The Narrator jumped slightly from the sudden touch and looked at him with wide eyes. Stanley flashed him a gentle, reassuring smile and signed to him.

[You’re okay. It’s alright if you need a break. I’ll talk with him.] Stanley gently took the flower out of the Narrator’s hair and set it beside his plate. The Narrator understood the signs and felt like he was about to cry. He mouthed a small “thank you,” stood up, and quickly went upstairs to their shared bedroom.

Stanley watched him go with a small frown on his face. He would check in with him later. Stanley looked down for a moment at the plate in front of him. Turns out talking over food isn’t that easy at all. Silence stayed in the room a bit longer before Wren spoke up.

“Look.. Stanley. I’m sorry,” Wren started, “I’m sorry for getting frustrated and upsetting you and your friend. I don’t want to make an excuse for myself, but I just so badly want an answer. I was.. No we all were so worried about you while you were gone. Hell, we all thought you were dead. You may not understand much, but I just want to know something, anything, about that week.”

Stanley stared at Wren as he spoke. His expression definitely softened, and his tone was a lot quieter and calmer. Stanley thought for a moment before he came up with an answer.

[It’s alright. I know I owe you an explanation. I am just trying to figure out how to explain it in a way where you believe me. Narrator was right in saying it’s beyond understanding.] Stanley sighed gently and glanced at the yellow flower on the table for a moment.

“Could you… Just try to explain it? Even if it doesn’t make sense, please try. I’ll stay quiet until you’re done, I promise.” Wren’s mood had entirely shifted from what it was like just a few minutes ago. He let himself calm down fully, and he really desperately wanted an answer. He quickly learned that frustration was absolutely not the right approach.

Stanley looked at him with still hands for a minute. He could be burying himself a deeper grave by doing this, but it was the only option for moving forward. He took a deep breath and started.

[I was stuck in an office building. It was a repeated cycle of leaving my office, walking around the building, and reaching.. We started to call them endings like how Narrator mentioned. Some were pleasant, but I died more than a few times too. This cycle and place is what the Narrator and I call the Parable.

[The whole time, Narrator talked me through the endings and tried to deter me from the more negative ones. He wanted the best for me. I promise, he really is a good guy. We’ve had our arguments and bumps in the past, but he really is delightful. Originally he started out as only a voice, but eventually he revealed himself to me. He started to come along with me for endings and we grew close that way. After all, we only had each other.

[We went through this cycle of him giving me instructions, me following them or not, reaching an ending, and then resetting back to my office. It honestly felt like years. All the clocks were broken, and there was no sun or moon. I had no idea how much time passed out here. Neither of us did. 

[Eventually, he told me he wanted to try something new and break out of the cycle. One of the endings was what we nicknamed “the Freedom ending.” We escaped the building into a stone path and field, walked about a meter or so, and then were sent back into the office. It was a cruel taste of freedom, so Narrator adjusted it so we could go further past the reset point.

[We tried it out and it actually worked. We were shocked, but then I started to realize I recognized everything outside the building. That’s when everything started to shift. I discovered this house again, the scrapbook, everything. I didn’t remember anything besides places. I still don’t. Neither Narrator nor I understand why I can’t remember anything before the Parable at all.]

He finally set his hands down in his lap again. Stanley’s heart was racing, and his mind was full of regrets. He tried hard to push them down. He was doing the right thing, but the silence in the room wasn’t a good reassurance.

Much to the distaste of Stanley, the silence remained for a minute.

“Wow..” Wren finally muttered out as his brain tried to process everything Stanley told him. He understood why he didn’t tell him anything at first. That was a lot to take in, and a lot to even attempt to believe as true.

Once again, the silence crept back into the room and remained for several long seconds. Stanley stared at Wren as he desperately waited for an answer. 

“That’s.. Definitely a lot.” Wren looked back at Stanley, his expression overflowing with concern. His voice was gentle and worried. “Are you.. Okay after all of that?” Stanley looked back. He became overwhelmed with guilt, swallowed hard, and nodded. 

[I’m okay now..] Stanley paused and thought. [But I haven’t had much time to process any of it either. This is the first time I’m talking about it.]

“Stanley…” Wren frowned and reached to rest his hand on Stanley’s shoulder. “Even if I don’t understand how it's possible or completely what happened, I believe you. I just.. Have some follow-up questions if that’s alright. They might help you understand more too.”

He hesitated for a moment. He already felt like he revealed too much, but there was no backing down now. In all truth, he didn’t know why he wanted to hide it so bad. There wasn’t any higher power outside the Parable, that he knew of, that he had to hide it from. Was he trying to repress it without knowing? Stanley nodded in response to Wren’s request.

“Alright, thank you, Stanley.” Wren took a moment to come up with a good question, and instead he just asked a surface level one instead. “So.. You just woke up in the office, and it started from there.?”

Stanley nodded. [That’s the earliest memory I know, at least. I don’t remember being scared or confused though.. I didn’t have any preconceived notions.] With some words, he resorted to finger-spelling them, but Wren still thankfully understood. Stanley thought it over in his head. He knew it would make no sense, but he tried to explain more.

[I felt like.. Almost a blank slate looking back now. I felt like came into existence right in that office, and it was all I ever knew.] Wren, still lost out of his mind, simply nodded slowly. After a moment of unsuccessfully attempting to accept it, he asked another question.

“So, you met the Narrator in the “Parable” too. Was he trapped in there with you? Or did he create it? He said he was an author after all, and it was his stories.” Stanley thought about it for a moment before coming up with an answer.

[At first I thought he created it. He even thought he was in control of the whole place and story, but it was revealed that he was stuck in there too. The whole “confusion ending” he mentioned helped to prove that. He could lead some things in the right direction, but he wasn’t the one behind it all. He knew no more than I did, even if he wanted it to be the case.] Stanley frowned slightly. They discussed it a lot toward the end of their time in the Parable. He couldn’t help but feel slightly bad for the Narrator. 

Wren nodded, despite not fully understanding anything. He was able to understand the signs Stanley used, but it made absolutely no sense. After a second of unsuccessful deep processing, he finally asked another question.

“Are you two.. Dating? I mean I saw the kisses and you guys seem really close.” Wren finally ate another bite of his dinner. It was cold now, but he was hungry, and thankfully the awkwardness calmed down enough for him to feel comfortable to eat.

[Is there something wrong with it if we are.?] Stanley looked directly at him. He didn’t categorize their relationship as dating so to speak, but he didn’t want Wren to judge him for it either way. Wren nearly spat out the food from the surprise of Stanley’s question. He quickly swallowed it down instead, coughed for a moment, and spoke rapidly after catching his breath.

“Oh no, no, no! Absolutely not, Stanley!” The pieces clicked in Wren’s head. “Oh my god, that’s right. You forgot everything before. You told me, and the others, that you were gay a long while ago. It isn’t bad that you are, I just want to know what’s going on between you two. All curiosity, no judgement.” He spoke quickly to explain himself. Stanley nodded gently at his response. That was comforting at least.

[I mean. I wouldn’t say we are dating, but we are very close. In the Parable, he was my only comfort. Even now, he has been. Sure, I have friends and you specially, but he doesn’t have anyone. I’m the only person he has. We kind of cling to one another.] Stanley smiled wide. [I do really like him as a person though.]

“It sounds like you are dating him then,” Wren commented. Stanley shook his head, still unsure if the title fit them. Even this confused Wren greatly. All through the little question and answer session, he was so lost. The more he was told, the more confused he ended up being.

He finally decided it was time to move on. More questions would only lead to more confusing answers, and he honestly couldn’t even wrap his head around everything now. Wren would love to know more, but the questions were not getting him everywhere. 

Wren loved Stanley so much as a friend, but in his mind, Stanley had completely lost it.

“Well.. Thank you for answering my questions. I don’t have any more for now, but I really appreciate it.” Wren smiled gently at Stanley, and Stanley returned a wide smile. 

Talking about everything honestly took a massive weight off of Stanley’s shoulders. It was so relieving to Stanley that Wren actually knew everything now, even if he didn’t understand it at all. Wren tried to get his mind off of the confusion around everything Stanley just told him and finally noticed the wound on his head again.

“Oh my god. Your head. I completely forgot about it. How does it feel? Are you okay?” Wren stood up and walked over to his chair. He moved Stanley’s hair gently to get a better look at it. Stanley nodded.

[It doesn’t hurt anymore. I’ve had a headache since I got it, but it’s mostly gone away.] Stanley looked up at Wren as he signed.

“Stanley.. I think you gave yourself a concussion. Why did you do this to yourself?” Wren frowned. He knew Stanley said he did it because he felt bad, but he wondered if there was more to it. There had to be. Stanley averted his gaze before he signed.

[Back in the Parable, everything would always reset if I got badly hurt or killed myself. In a moment of panic, I told myself this whole escape thing was an elaborate ending. I convinced myself that I could reset back to the Parable if I just ended it. Well.. It obviously didn’t work and the Narrator stopped me.] Stanley kept his gaze away from Wren.

“Oh my.. I’m so glad it didn’t work. I’m so glad you’re still here. So so glad.” Wren smiled gently and glanced around for his computer bag for a moment. He remembered it was left by the door, but didn’t move yet. “I nearly forgot. I brought a little something to hopefully make you feel a little better.”

Wren left Stanley’s side and ran back to the door to grab his bag. He came back with it and set it on his chair. He opened it up and dug around in it. Stanley finally looked at him again to watch what he was doing. He spent a moment opening some zippers and trying to figure out where he put what he was looking for.

“Ah! There we are.” Wren pulled out a box of gauze, some medical tape, and some gauze wrap. “I didn’t know what would work the best, so I got a few options. I picked these up on my way here.”

Stanley stared at the items in Wren’s hands. He quickly understood that it was stuff for his head. Sure it was healed over already, but he would love for it to be out of sight too.

[Thank you. Thank you.] Stanley smiled at Wren as he walked back to stand by Stanley.

“It’s really my pleasure. I couldn’t just sit by and let you have that massive wound out in the open. We don’t want it getting infected.” Wren smiled and gently lifted Stanley’s hair again to get a good evaluation of the wound size. After a moment, he decided the gauze wrap would work the best.

“You’ll be wrapped up for a couple of days, but it’s better than the wound getting worse.” Wren smiled and ripped open the gauze wrap and normal gauze packaging.

With Stanley’s help, he put the gauze over the wound and secured the wrap around his head. Wren tried to make sure his hair still looked decent with it on. It took some effort and time, but the pair got it wrapped up and fixed it onto Stanley’s head.

“There we go, Stan. Good as new.” Wren smiled at him once it was all wrapped up.

[Thank you again. So much. So so much.] Stanley smiled back at him. At least now he could look in the mirror without constantly being reminded of that moment of extreme weakness. He could move on.

“It’s my pleasure. It’s the least I can do after all.” Wren moved the bag from his seat and sat down, but left the gauze on the table near Stanley. “You can probably use the Narrator’s help to wrap it up again if it comes undone, or you take a shower or something.”

Stanley nodded and stared at the supplies for a moment. The room was quiet for a second, so Wren finally asked a question he had on his mind.

“Is what happened to your head.. Is it anyway related to the Narrator’s nose?” Stanley hesitantly nodded, absolutely ashamed of what he had done. 

[I got frustrated when he tried to stop me.] Stanley kept his hands up to explain more, but he decided against it and let his hands fall into his lap. Wren nodded gently but decided not to pry anymore. It seemed that they both were able to apologize and move past it, so that was the most important.

Silence crept back into the room for a moment until Wren spoke up again.

“I think you should maybe bring the Narrator down again.. Make sure he’s okay and all. And.. I want to apologize to him.” Wren smiled gently at Stanley, and Stanley nodded back happily. He smiled and stood up.

[I’ll be back soon then.] Stanley headed upstairs and slowly approached the bedroom door. It was shut now, but not locked. When he attempted to knock on the door, it slowly swung open instead. 

The inside of the room was dark, the only light coming from the moon through the window. Instead of the Narrator being visible in the room, there was a large lump under the covers. Stanley sighed gently and sat at the edge of the bed.

“The Narrator isn’t here right now..” Came muffled underneath the covers. Stanley sighed gently again. He couldn’t just sign to the Narrator that it was him, so he instead reached out and softly pat the lump in the covers.

“Oh.. Is that you, Stanley.?” He spoke gently and Stanley pat him again. “Just.. a moment..” The Narrator quickly rubbed his face and slipped out of the covers. He popped his head out near the top of the bed and looked at Stanley. 

“Your head..” He immediately noticed the gauze wrap around his head. “Did.. Wren help you with that?” Stanley nodded, but he wasn’t too focused on that anymore. He saw that the Narrator’s eyes were slightly red, and it caused Stanley to frown.

Stanley moved up the bed and pulled the Narrator into his arms. He hugged him tightly.

“Oh, Stanley.. I’m okay now. I’ve taken criticism before.. I can handle it.” Stanley knew that was a lie and held him closer. Stanley gently kissed the Narrator’s head. He so badly wished he could reassure him with words as he held him, but he knew it was impossible with the need to sign.

“I suspect you want me to come downstairs again. Is that right, Stanley?” The Narrator nuzzled into him for a moment as he took a deep breath. He could feel Stanley nod, and he tensed in response. Stanley felt him tense up in his arms and pulled away slightly so he could sign. The Narrator frowned when he pulled away, but knew it had to happen.

[Wren wants to apologize. I told him everything.] Stanley signed slowly and watched the Narrator carefully for his reaction. The Narrator’s expression dropped even more, and he felt his heart sink deeper into his chest.

“You.. told him about the Parable?” Stanley nodded in response. “How much did you tell him? Did you tell him everything?”

[Most of it.]

“Oh god. He probably thinks you’re insane, Stanley! He probably thinks we both went mad!” The Narrator tried to think of any good reason for telling him about the Parable, but he couldn’t find it. “First, he insulted me and my position as an author, and now he thinks we are really insane.”

[Narrator..] 

“He probably ran away already! We’ll go downstairs, and he’ll be gone! He probably thinks that we poisoned the food! Oh my god… This is terrible, Stanley. Don’t you understand?” The Narrator was quickly becoming frantic, but his mind went back to one thing.

“He insulted my stories! He insulted my ability to make a story, Stanley! He didn’t think I was an author! We have been in a similar situation, and we saw how that en-”

[Narrator.] The man in question stopped talking this time once Stanley signed. [He is all we have in this world. We have no other choice if we want to figure out what happened. We have no other connections. Plus I don’t think he really understood it anyway.] 

The Narrator looked at Stanley for a moment and sighed. He leaned into Stanley, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Alright.. Fine. I’ll go downstairs. He just better not be rude anymore.. I am not the biggest fan of him already.” Stanley nodded and gently pat the Narrator’s back before he pulled away and stood up.

[It’ll be fine. I promise. He’s the one who wanted to apologize.] Stanley smiled and offered the Narrator a hand. The Narrator smiled back, took his hand, and stood up. 

“I’ll hear him out this time. As long as he isn’t rude anymore.” The Narrator kept a smile on his face, but was still worried. He didn’t want Wren to shoot him down again. Stanley pat his shoulder again with a smile before he led him out of the room and downstairs.

“Hey.” Wren looked at the Narrator with a gentle grin. Much to the Narrator’s surprise, he was still sitting at the table in the exact spot he left him in. Stanley smiled reassuringly at the Narrator before Stanley returned to his seat and the Narrator did the same.

“I should be the one to say it,” Wren spoke and looked at the Narrator. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got really frustrated and upset at you. I absolutely didn’t mean to criticize you or your writing.” He sounded very apologetic, but it took the Narrator a moment to believe him.

“It’s alright. I can understand your frustration that came of this mess. You’re obviously close to Stanley, so you really badly wanted to know what happened.” The Narrator fidgeted with the flower beside the plate in front of him for a moment before finally returning the gaze.

“Let’s just try this again.. Alright? I think that would be best.” Wren smiled and stretched out his hand over the table. “Hello! I’m Wren. I’m one of Stanley’s friends who know him from work.” The Narrator stared at the outstretched arm for a moment. It didn’t take long for him to smile at the cheesy gesture. He took Wren’s hand and shook it.

“I’m the Narrator. I met Stanley back in the Parable, and I am a writer.” The Narrator wore a wide smile on his face as he shook Wren’s hand. Stanley beamed and clapped his hands to celebrate. Even if this was cheesy and a bit excessive, Stanley was overjoyed that they made up. The handshake ended after a moment, but everyone still smiled.

Even after everything seemingly cleaned up, Wren barely understood anything he was told. He could pretend he understood it all, but he knew nothing. The words went in one ear and out the other. He loved Stanley, but he slowly started to convince himself Stanley completely lost his mind. 

There was no way Stanley thought that a story about death and rebirth over and over spanning years in an office building made sense. Wren didn’t know if he was drugged or had an entire mental breakdown, but he was here now and that’s what mattered at the end of the day.

“I’m just so glad you’re here, Stanley.” Wren smiled gently at him. He looked over at the Narrator too. “It really is nice to meet you, too. You and Stanley are obviously really close. Thank you for taking care of him when he was away.” Wren smiled wider.

“Oh it really is my pleasure. Thank you for helping him wrap up his head!” The Narrator beamed. “We had our moments, but he really is something special. I used to be frustrated with him, but I realized how important he is to me. I’m so glad he’s here with me, rather us, too.”

Wren looked between the men. He kept the smile on his face despite the confusion running through his head. He tried to think of anything else and glanced down at his plate. It was still basically full, but it was fully cold now. Wren frowned.

[Do you want me to heat it up?] Stanley noticed Wren and glanced at his own plate too. He was still hungry really as well. Wren didn’t notice him sign at first, so Stanley gently nudged him and signed his question again.

“Oh that would be great, Stanley. Thank you so much.” Wren picked up his plate and held it to Stanley once he stood up. Stanley grabbed his own plate and walked to the kitchen with them. Once he was gone, Wren diverted his attention back to the man sitting across from him.

“So… I know you tried to catch yourself before, but you really don’t eat?” Wren stared at the plate in front of the Narrator. It remained completely untouched.

“Oh, no I don’t. I only have eaten small amounts of what Stanley wants me to try, but I don’t need to eat to survive. Originally, Stanley didn’t need to either. Inside the Parable, he didn’t eat anything. It was only when we escaped that he became hungry.” The Narrator rambled on a little bit, and Wren nodded along like he did earlier. He learned that thinking too hard about these things proved to be fruitless, so he instead asked another question without much thought.

“Are you.. not human?” 

“Not really.” The Narrator responded without even skipping a beat. “This form is the shape of a human, but deep down it feels like I’m trying on someone else’s clothes, you know?”

Wren absolutely did not know, nor did he want to know what he meant. He quickly decided to carry the conversation onto something else.

“You said you are an author. Have you written anything that wasn’t about Stanley?” Wren smiled encouragingly at him. He hoped he would get his first, semi-normal answer of the night. Much to his enjoyment, he got it.

“I have actually! Stanley helped me with some ideas. I wrote a short love story between the ocean and the beach. I think it was one of my best works, but I left it behind in the Parable. Stanley really enjoyed that one too.” The Narrator smiled gently. “I think I’ll need to rewrite it.”

“That sounds amazing! You totally should! Audrey, one of Stanley’s other friends, is a writer too. You guys can bond over that when you meet her.” Wren smiled back at him.

Stanley overheard the conversation from the kitchen and smiled. The food was already heated up, but he didn’t want to interrupt yet. He stood against the door frame and listened happily. He was so glad Wren and the Narrator were getting along so well. He had the feeling that Wren didn’t understand nearly any of the Parable talk, but he at least could have a conversation with the Narrator.

After another minute of the conversation continuing, Stanley slowly entered the dining room again.

“So you all will be at Harris’s house-? Oh! Stanley. Hello again.” The Narrator watched him enter the room, his greeting interrupting what he was saying. Stanley smiled for a little greeting and set both his and Wren’s plates down before sitting down.

“Thank you so much, Stanley. We were just talking about the dinner at Harris’s.” Wren smiled back and took a bite again. The food was delicious, but he’s sure he could’ve enjoyed anything with how hungry he was.

[Oh right. The dinner.] Stanley took a bite to try to satiate his hunger as well. [When even is that? What day is it today?]

“Well, the dinner is on the 20th and today is..” Wren pulled his phone out of his pocket quickly to check the date. “The 18th. Two days until the dinner.”

[Is it that close?] Stanley set the fork down for a moment to sign. He couldn’t believe it. He had no time to ever relax and get his mind in order, did he?

“It is, but you still have one full day to yourself. For the dinner, I can come swing by and pick you up too so you don’t have to worry about getting there. I’m sure the Narrator could come along as well if he would like.” Wren glanced at the Narrator and continued to eat once he finished speaking.

Stanley nodded slowly, but now he was taking his time to process everything. Two days and he would have to face everything again. Face a room full of people he didn’t even know. It would be like a repeat of the dinner he was in right now. Now it was going well, but before it absolutely wasn’t. He wasn’t sure if he could do it all again. The others probably wouldn’t have a good time understanding his story either. 

Wren watched Stanley’s expression shift as he thought over everything. He finished his bite and spoke gently.

“I can tell them you don’t want to talk about everything just yet. I’m sure they would love to see you no matter what. We all were, and honestly still are, worried about you. It would be nice to know what happened, but as long as you are there, that’s what matters.” Wren smiled. “You still haven’t responded to any texts though. They keep asking about you. Did you lose your phone again?”

Stanley shook his head. [We don’t know what the password is. We wanted to check them, but we couldn’t get in.]

“Oh, really? I guess that would explain it then. Do you have it somewhere?” Stanley nodded in response and pushed his chair out to stand up.

“I can grab it! You both are eating anyway.” The Narrator stood up quickly and went to the living room. He knew it was in there somewhere. After a moment of searching, he found it on the coffee table and brought it back to the dining room. He considered who to give it to for a second before handing it to Wren.

“Oh, thank you, Narrator!” He smiled and took it. He took a second before typing some numbers in and opening the phone. “Ah, I knew it. It was your favorite number, Stanley. Just 8888.”

Stanley put his head in his hands and sighed. The Narrator looked at Stanley with downright shock.

“Goodness, Stanley! I can’t believe we didn’t try that!!” The Narrator chuckled and soon Stanley joined him in laughing. It was almost crazy that Stanley didn’t attempt that one first. Joining them in laughter too, Wren handed it to Stanley.

Stanley took the phone carefully and calmed down his laughter. He looked at the screen and saw the message app with over 300 notifications and the phone app with nearly 100. He frowned slightly as he opened the message app. There were more than 10 people and group chats that had texted him.

“It’s okay if you can’t respond to them all. It’s very overwhelming, I’m sure. I’ll let everyone know you’re okay. I have before, but I’ll tell them that I had dinner with you. I promise I won’t tell them about the “Parable” though!” Wren smiled, and soon Stanley joined him in smiling.

[Thank you. I would really appreciate that.] Stanley was warming up really well to Wren, and both were really glad for that. Stanley looked at his phone for another moment before he set it down again. He could deal with it later. For now, he needed to actually finish eating.

Silence came over the room again for a moment as Stanley and Wren took the time to eat. The Narrator awkwardly sat in his seat, almost waiting for a conversation to come up so he could speak. Unfortunately for him, the opportunity never came up.

“So, Stanley.. Are you excited to see everyone again? I know it’ll be tough since you don’t exactly know them, but it’ll be a little nice.” Wren spoke between bites of the beef stir-fry. It was getting room temperature again, but he couldn’t be bothered to ask Stanley to heat it up again.

[I think so! I’m a bit worried, but I won’t have to explain anything which is good. At least not for now.] He paused before he signed again. [Are you sure they won’t be upset?]

“Maybe to start, but they’ll understand. They just want to see you. That’s the most important thing for them, I’m sure.”

Wren’s voice slowly faded out of the Narrator’s ears. He looked between Stanley and Wren as they talked. They continued their little back and forth without even looking at the Narrator. They didn’t even acknowledge him at all. The Narrator tried to ignore the faint tightness in his heart. Stanley had someone else now, and soon he would have three other people. Stanley had other friends.

The Narrator let his eyes fall to his lap. Oh my god. Stanley wouldn’t need him anymore. The pit in his chest that mostly closed earlier had opened up completely. He felt his heart drop again. Before he knew it, he felt a drop of water hit his folded hands in his lap.

His eyes widened as he stared down at the splattered droplet on his skin. The Narrator did not want to cry again. He quickly glanced up, hoping no one else noticed his tears.

Stanley and Wren were still deeply involved in a conversation. Thank god.

The Narrator took a deep breath and quickly rubbed his eyes under his glasses. He didn’t want to leave and bring too much attention to himself. He needed to stop crying, and he needed to stop now. The Narrator kept checking back in on the others to make sure they didn’t notice his tears.

He let out a small, shaky breath. Panic hadn’t taken over his body yet, thankfully. Just take a deep breath, Narrator. Just breathe and calm down.

“Alright. I’ll help you clean up, but then I should probably get going. It’s getting late.” The Narrator finally could hear Wren speak again even though his voice was muffled. His hands were shaking slightly. He needed to calm down. Now.

[Oh, thank you so much. Do you want to help-?] Stanley looked at the Narrator, but stopped signing once he noticed he wasn’t looking. Instead of tapping him to get his attention, he decided to just let him be on his own for a moment. He frowned slightly but stood up, grabbed his plate, and the Narrator’s and headed to the kitchen. Wren looked at the Narrator for a moment before picking up his own plate and following Stanley.

“Hey.. Is he okay?” Wren spoke just above a whisper once they entered the kitchen.

[He will be. He.. Just has moments sometimes. I’ll check in with him once you leave. He just needs time.] Stanley smiled reassuringly at Wren. [He isn’t a huge fan of new people or change of any kind.] Stanley put the leftovers into a container for later before putting it away into the fridge.

“Hm.. I really hope he is okay.” Wren started the sink faucet and began to wash the dishes. Stanley nodded and helped him out. They mostly stayed quiet as they cleaned everything.

It didn’t take long for everything to be cleaned up and put away. Stanley smiled wide at Wren.

[Thank you so much for everything tonight. I know my whole explanation about the Parable doesn’t make much sense, but I appreciate you listening. Thank you for being kind to the Narrator and I during all of this.] Stanley smiled at Wren, and Wren smiled back. He pulled Stanley into a hug.

“Of course. You’re my best friend, Stan. I’m here for you, no matter what. I don’t understand, and I might think you are a little crazy, but I still am here for you. I’ll listen, even if I don’t fully get it. And any friend, or more, of yours is a friend of mine.” Wren chuckled and let go of Stanley after another moment. “I should get going though. Please feel free to text me or give me a call if you need anything. Go take care of your boyfriend.” He smirked, chuckled, and quickly slipped into the dining room to grab his bag.

Stanley tried to jokingly smack Wren for his comment, but he was too quick to slip away. Stanley chuckled lightly instead and followed him to say goodbye and walk him out.

The Narrator still was in his chair and staring at his lap. Wren nor Stanley commented at all as Wren grabbed his computer bag and they both headed toward the door.

“I’ll see you on the 20th to pick you up for the dinner then. If you need me, please text or call and I’ll be right over. I’m here for you, remember that.” Wren smiled and Stanley smiled back.

[Thank you. I’ll see you then.] Stanley smiled and hugged him once more before Wren left and Stanley shut the door behind him. He stayed at the door for a moment. Now he had to make sure the Narrator was okay.

The Narrator stayed in the chair at the table. He kept trying to rub his tears away, but it seemed like it didn’t work at all. He didn’t even know why he was crying anymore. He just wanted it to stop.

Stanley kneeled down next to him and rested a hand on his knee. The Narrator jolted slightly and looked at him. His eyes were red from both tears and constantly touching them.

[Narrator.. What’s wrong?] Stanley looked up at him with a gentle, worried expression. 

The Narrator just stared at Stanley for a moment. He was fine now. He wasn’t crying anymore. He surely didn’t need Stanley to comfort him ag-

Oh, he was crying again. 

Stanley wasted no time in standing up and pulling the Narrator up into a hug. He held him close and tight. Stanley kept him close while he became completely unraveled. The Narrator started to tremble before he gripped Stanley tightly and sobbed into his shoulder. He wanted one day to relax so badly.

“Oh Stanley.. It’s so pathetic. I’m so pathetic. It’s all so terrible.” The Narrator whined and hid himself in Stanley. He felt so horrible.

Stanley shook his head and squeezed him tighter. He hated seeing the Narrator like this. He had a feeling he knew why this was happening, but he would ask the Narrator to clarify it later. For now, he just wanted to comfort him as much as possible.

The Narrator stayed in his arms for several minutes. He didn’t want to leave his arms. He didn’t want to lose him. If he left Stanley go, he would leave. He needed Stanley with him. Stanley nuzzled into the Narrator to try and calm him down. He placed several small kisses into the Narrator’s scalp.

Finally, after around 10 minutes, the Narrator calmed down enough for Stanley to slowly pull away. He still hesitated, but he let him go.

[What’s wrong, Narry? Talk to me.] Stanley frowned and gently took the Narrator’s hands in his. He kissed the back of each one.

“Oh, Stanley.. I don’t even know how to say it all. I keep thinking about the dinner and Wren…” The Narrator skipped around the topic a little before flat out saying it. “I’m scared you won’t need me anymore.” Stanley frowned, but didn’t want to let go of the Narrator’s hands yet. The Narrator took it as a sign to keep talking.

“What if I just hold you back? I tie you back to the Parable, even if you want to leave it behind. I’m weighing you down. You found your people.. What if you don’t need me?” The Narrator’s voice wavered as he spoke. Stanley took his hands away so he could sign.

[No. No. No. That’ll never be the case. I won’t leave you behind or not need you. You are so so important to me, Narry. I don’t think I could ever be without you.] Stanley looked at him, wanting to make sure he believed it. Stanley was telling him the truth.

“But..”

[No buts. You and I have been through hell. I may have other friends, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need you, nor I’m replacing you. No one could replace you.] Stanley kissed each of the Narrator’s temples. [I need you here with me.] 

The Narrator looked at Stanley, and soon he was crying again. It wasn’t as bad as before, but the Narrator just could not catch a break.

“Oh, Stanley..” Stanley cupped his hand around the Narrator’s cheek and kissed his forehead gently. He didn’t need to sign for the Narrator to understand he told him it would be okay. Stanley peppered his face with kisses and soon the Narrator’s crying turned into light laughter.

“Alright! Alright! No more tears.” The Narrator chuckled and Stanley planted one more kiss on his nose.

[I think we deserve some nice sleep after today, don’t you?] Stanley smiled and gently pulled away from the Narrator.

“I have to agree with you. How about tomorrow we actually take a day off, alright? I don’t think I can take any more stress before I have a heart attack.” The Narrator shook his head and wiped his eyes again from any tears.

[We definitely don’t need that. Don’t make me repeat my “I need you here” speech. My hands are tired after today.] Stanley smiled, and the Narrator started to laugh again. Stanley took the Narrator’s hand again and started to lead him upstairs and finally to bed.

Stanley gave the Narrator several little kisses as they got ready for bed. They both got into their comfortable clothes and Stanley slid into bed. Even thought they agreed to rest, the Narrator wanted to read to help him calm down before bed. He grabbed a random book off of a bookcase in the room and then joined Stanley.

Stanley looked at the Narrator and the book he had. He smiled as an idea formed in his head.

[I didn’t hear your voice enough today..]

“What was that Stanley?” The Narrator looked at Stanley as he opened his book.

[Read to me?] He signed and smiled wide at the Narrator. In response, the Narrator smiled back wide.

“Alright, alright. Just a little bit. We both need sleep at some point though.” The Narrator chuckled, kissed Stanley’s head, and put an arm around his shoulder. Stanley rested his head on the Narrator’s chest with a sleepy smile and shut his eyes.

“Ahem..” The Narrator cleared his throat and started to read. “When the Moon rose in the Third Northern Hall I went to the Ninth Vestibule to witness the joining of the three Tides…”

Chapter Text

Wren clicked the call button and held the phone to his ear as he walked down the street. Before he even got the chance to greet everyone, the voices on the line overlapped with their myriad of questions.

“Is he okay?!”

“What did he tell you?”

“Was that older guy still there?”

After a moment of a few more questions, the voices finally quieted down to let Wren attempt to answer their abundance of inquisitions.

“Woah, woah. Everyone slow down. I can’t answer all of you at once.” Wren chuckled dryly. “In all honesty, I don’t think I can answer any of the questions you guys have.” The line fell silent for a moment after Wren spoke.

“Did Stanley not tell you much?” A feminine voice perked up and asked him while the rest of the voices stayed silent.

“Oh no.. No,” Wren chuckled again, “He told me a lot. I just think he’s lost his mind.”

Stanley stood beside the stove as he prepared some breakfast for himself. Miraculously, the Narrator managed to stay asleep as Stanley got up, so he received a few more well-deserved moments of sleep. He had tried to treat Stanley with breakfast the day before, so Stanley figured he could at least try to return the favor. But, of course the Narrator didn’t eat, so he opted to have the hot water for his tea ready instead for when he woke up.

As much as Stanley had been through the past few days, he knew the Narrator was struggling as well. Last night definitely proved his worries to be true. Stanley frowned as he thought further about it. He hoped the Narrator didn’t think he would abandon him so easily. They spent all the time in the Parable with one another after all. Even if it turned out to only be a week in time, it felt like an eternity. 

And that eternity certainly couldn’t so easily be replaced with anyone else.

Stanley’s mind still didn’t agree with the idea that it had only been a week. It couldn't have been. He was certain it had to be years at least. His eyes drifted to the calendar on the side of the fridge. Based on what Wren told him last night, it was the 19th. Tomorrow would be Harris’s dinner, a dinner with several strangers that he couldn’t say a word to.

Wren mentioned that Narrator was invited if he wanted to come. While a nice offer, Stanley decided that it wouldn’t be the best idea. He would not only be completely out of his element, but he would most likely shut down like he did the night before. The crowd of people, the questions, and the new environment absolutely would cause the Narrator to panic.

Despite knowing he couldn’t bring the Narrator, Stanley wasn’t sure if leaving him home alone was a good idea either. The pair was never separated for a time more than a few minutes, so Stanley didn’t know if the Narrator could handle hours alone. The poor man would without a doubt be worried sick that Stanley wouldn’t come back. Even with all of his reassurance, he knew how often the Narrator got stuck in his head. Especially after the events of the skip ending. 

Stanley shook the worries out of his head. They had this day together, and even most of the day tomorrow too. Hopefully. Stanley prayed that they finally could enjoy at least one day together without any interruptions or injuries.

Every time the opportunity came up to them, something else got in the way. First it was the scrapbook and then Wren’s call. Today would just be for them. Just a relaxing nice day for the two of them. Stanley decided he had to do everything in his power to make that possible for them.

The kettle started to hiss gently, just beginning to boil, and it pulled Stanley’s attention to the stove again. Almost on cue, the toaster popped as it finished with his bagel as well. Everything was amazingly coming together at about the same time. The only thing he still needed was his Narrator.

In the meantime while he waited, he pulled his bagel from the toaster, put his scrambled eggs on it, and started to eat while standing in the kitchen. Stanley knew there was no point waiting for the Narrator since he didn’t eat anyway. They could instead share their hot beverages of choice.

The Narrator slowly started to wake up due to the smell of something cooking downstairs and the commotion caused by Stanley. A small sleepy smile formed on his lips as he grabbed his glasses and slipped out of bed. The bed was far too lonely without Stanley there anyway, so there was no point in dwelling any longer.

He stared at the closet for a moment and considered changing, but he ultimately decided against it. His clothes were alright for just being in the house without guests. After an additional moment of compilation, The Narrator headed to the bathroom to at least fix his hair and make himself a bit more presentable.

As soon as he looked in the mirror, the bruise on his nose stared back. It had gotten slightly worse since he originally got it, but he knew it wasn’t nearly as bad as Stanley’s injury. A subtle frown stretched onto his lips as he looked at the mark. The Narrator hoped that Stanley didn’t feel terrible about it. It was a moment of weakness and fear. It wouldn’t happen again.

Hopefully.

Stanley washed his hands after he finished eating, and the Narrator finally came downstairs. Perfect timing. Stanley smiled wide at him in his comfortable clothing that he slept in and gestured to the kettle.

[The water is hot for you.] Stanley signed for him and kissed his head when he came closer. [Good morning.]

“Good morning, Stanley.” The Narrator smiled at him, his smile widening from the kiss. “What tea do you think I should-.. Oh, thank you. You already picked for me.” While maintaining his smile, he poured some of the hot water into his mug. Stanley knew he would ask for him to pick it as he usually did, so he beat him to the question.

[Do you have anything you want to do today?] Stanley picked his coffee mug up from the counter after he finished signing. He doubted if the Narrator would answer, but it was worth a shot anyway.

“Hmm..” The Narrator hummed gently as he set a timer for his tea. “Well..” He was already struggling to say anything on his mind. “I think we should just relax today. We both really need it. I don’t have any specific ideas on how to, though.”

Stanley nodded in agreement. They definitely need some time to unwind. They definitely could read again today, but that could be a bit boring. Stanley hummed as he thought and took a sip of his coffee. Rather quickly, an idea came to him, and he swiftly put his mug down so he could sign.

[How about we go on a picnic?] Stanley smiled wide at the idea. It seemed like a beautiful day out, and it would be a good opportunity to get their mind off of things. Of course, he wouldn’t expect the Narrator to eat anything, but he was sure he would enjoy it.

“A picnic.. Hm. I suppose that could be fun.” The Narrator smiled gently. He didn’t seem fully on board, but Stanley also didn’t know if he even knew what a picnic was.

[You could bring a notebook to start writing too. It’ll be nice to get outside.] Stanley added quickly before he took another sip of his coffee. That definitely seemed to catch his attention. The Narrator hadn’t gotten a good opportunity to write since they escaped.

“Ooo.. Writing would be absolutely perfect for today.” The Narrator smiled much wider now. “I assume you have some spare journals I can use? Possibly a fountain pen as well?” Stanley couldn’t help but chuckle. Why in the world would he have a fountain pen? He had notebooks of course, but not anything as lavish as a fountain pen.

[I don’t think I would have any fountain pens, Narry. I have notebooks though.] Stanley chuckled gently. Maybe he didn’t have the preferred fancy pens for him, but he was glad that the Narrator was excited about his idea.

“Hm. Alright, alright. I suppose I can use a ballpoint if I’m forced to.” The Narrator joked and smiled nonetheless. He personally despised ballpoint pens for their unreliability and constant spotting, but he wouldn’t want to force Stanley to go out of his way to suit his picky interests. Plus it would probably be easier to not have to deal with a pot of ink outside.

[Perfect! I’ll have to check what I have. I assume they’re up in my office.] Stanley took another sip once he was done signing. If anything, that’s the part that bothered him about needing to sign. It made communication harder since he had to drop everything to respond. It was especially annoying when he was embracing someone, Narry, or eating.

“Oh your office!!” The timer interrupted the Narrator’s thought, so he paused speaking to take the tea bag out. “Maybe we can do that this morning. The thought of that room and its mess has been bothering me since last night.” Stanley stifled a laugh. Of course, he was still stuck on it.

Stanley nodded happily while he held his mug. He didn’t want to keep setting it down so he pointed to the Narrator’s mug and then his. The Narrator took a moment to interpret it.

“Ah. Yes. We will have our drinks first. Then we can clean up and have our picnic!” The Narrator didn’t fully understand what would happen during a normal picnic, but he just knew he would have the opportunity to write and that excited him enough.

Stanley beamed at his excitement and drank his coffee a little quicker. The Narrator still took his time, but the pair remained in the kitchen and talked back and forth about the day ahead of them. Of course, the Narrator spoke a lot more than Stanley, but Stanley certainly didn’t mind. He loved the Narrator’s voice so much. 

While the Narrator spoke, Stanley didn’t even care about what he was saying. Obviously, he listened and paid attention to what he said, but he adored every word that came out of his mouth. Stanley could never grow tired of hearing his voice.

“I wonder what I should write about.. I haven’t really had the chance to think of any ideas lately. Do you have any ideas, Stanley?” The Narrator looked up from his mug at the man in front of him. Stanley was totally enamored with him and almost missed his cue to respond. He finished his coffee in one more sip and set the mug down.

[You could write about me more. That’s what you normally would do.] Stanley shrugged. He wasn’t an author after all. For a while, he was just a protagonist, the main character, in a large story. He didn’t know what it was like to write.

“Well.. I could, I suppose. I just feel like it wouldn’t be the same. It was fun to write a story for you to act out, but I feel like I should move on from the Parable. That was our old life. I think.. I should be more original.” The Narrator smiled gently as he spoke. “I should start a new chapter if you will.” His soft smile turned into a wide grin. He thought he was so clever for that.

Stanley hummed in response. That would probably be a good idea. They really wanted to separate themselves from those events, so it wouldn’t be a good idea to constantly think about it.

[How about you continue some of your old stories that you left behind? The ocean and the beach was a good one.] Stanley smiled and moved his mug to the sink before filling it with water to try and prevent coffee stains.

“That is a good idea, Stanley..” The Narrator took a sip of his tea as he thought. “I think I will. That way I could.. Maybe one day share them with your writer friend that Wren mentioned.” Stanley was surprised that the Narrator brought up his friends. The Narrator wanted to be his friends’ friend? 

“Should I not be their friends?” He asked meekly. Stanley hadn’t noticed how clear his expression displayed his confusion around the situation. He quickly shook his head.

[No, no, no! I am just surprised is all! I think it would be great for you to be their friends! I just didn’t expect it.] Stanley quickly tried to explain everything, some of his signing rushed in the process. The Narrator smiled again gently.

“It’s a new chapter like I said, Stanley. I think it’ll probably be important to get to know the people you know. They are your friends after all.” The Narrator kept a small smile on his face and he eventually finished his tea as well. “That’s enough chit-chat for now. Let’s get some work done, shall we?”

Stanley definitely didn’t mind the conversation, but he smiled and nodded. He took the Narrator’s mug and added it into the sink as well before the pair walked back upstairs to clean the mess they created yesterday.

“I think we finally made some good progress, Stanley.” The Narrator grinned as he looked at everything. Some of the books were rearranged together to allow for one shelf to be used for folders in boxes, documents, and notebooks. They even managed to mostly clear off Stanley’s desk. They left a few journals on it as well as the laptop, but it looked infinitely better.

“Isn’t this such an improvement than how messy it was before? Everything has a proper place now, it’s amazing.” The Narrator smiled wide as he admired their handiwork. 

During their cleaning, they also found a couple blank notebooks for the Narrator to use for writing and even found a rollerball pen. He told Stanley at length about their difference to ballpoint pens, which Stanley only half understood. He just nodded along like usual. As long as the Narrator was happy, so was he.

After they finished cleaning, Stanley checked the time on a clock in the room. It was just around 1, which meant it was a perfect time for their picnic. The Narrator still looked around the room before Stanley got his attention and started to sign.

[Picnic time?] Stanley smiled wide as he signed. They still had to get changed and Stanley had to make lunch, but it wouldn’t take too long. At least he hoped not.

“Oh I suppose it is!” The Narrator picked up one of the journals, a purple one of course, and grabbed the pen he found as well. “Is there anything I need to prepare for this picnic?” 

[Well. We should probably get out of our pajamas for starters.] Stanley chuckled and turned out of the room. The Narrator followed after him as they headed to their bedroom together. It would just be the two of them in the grass so they definitely didn’t need anything fancy.

Once in the room, Stanley grabbed a pair of shorts, a short sleeve shirt, and a plain gray zip-up jacket. It was a nice enough day, so he could take the jacket off it needed. While he was quick to pick what he needed, the Narrator took a bit longer. He stared into the wardrobe. He had mostly longer clothes and most were on the fancier size.

[Having troubles?] Stanley tapped his shoulder to get his attention before he signed. The Narrator nodded gently and Stanley wasted no time in looking over his shoulder at the options. After a moment, he pulled out a pair of jeans and a mustard sweater. It hopefully wouldn’t be too warm, but it was also the most casual thing in the wardrobe for him.

“Thank you again Stanley. I was thinking about that pairing myself.” The Narrator gently took the clothes with a smile and another quiet ‘thank you.’ Stanley smiled and patted his shoulder before turning back to his clothes and getting changed. Stanley quickly changed and left the jacket open for now. The Narrator was slower to get ready, and Stanley finished before him.

[I’m going to get some lunch ready, take your time.] He once again tapped the Narrator to get his attention before he signed. The Narrator nodded along and covered himself up slightly when Stanley looked at him. He was only shirtless, but he held the sweater in front of him and blushed ever so slightly. Stanley smiled nonetheless and left the room, leaving the Narrator to finish getting ready.

[Picnic. Picnic. Picnic.] Stanley signed to himself as he walked down to the kitchen and started to search for what he could make. It would have to be easy enough to bring with him. What did people normally make for picnics?

He took a few laps around his kitchen while looking in the fridge and the cabinets. After a while, he finally decided on a simple sandwich. Nothing better than that, right? He threw some stuff together and shoved it into a plastic bag. It would be easy enough to carry to wherever they ended up.

The Narrator eventually came downstairs with his notebook and pen once he finished getting dressed. Stanley finished getting his food ready and now was deep in searching for a blanket of sorts to bring.

“What are you doing now, Stanley?” The Narrator looked at the bagged sandwich on the counter before setting his stuff down beside it and walking to the living room to watch Stanley.

[Blanket.] Stanley signed quickly as he opened the TV stand cabinets. He finally found something and pulled it out. It was decently worn down, so it would be perfect. Stanley held it up to the Narrator with a wide smile. The Narrator cocked his head to the side slightly, not entirely sure what the reason for it was.

[We can sit on it so we don’t sit in the grass.] Stanley set the blanket on the floor so he could sign before he picked it up. He stood up and returned to the kitchen. The Narrator wasted no time following after him.

“That is a pretty smart idea, Stanley. I wouldn’t want to stain my new clothes!” The Narrator immediately remembered the bloody sweatshirt that hopefully was blood-free now. “Not again at least.”

Stanley chuckled at his additional comment but nodded. It was a good to have a blanket, but honestly the ground would still be pretty uncomfortable. Hopefully the Narrator wouldn’t complain too much.

[All good to go then? I’m sure we’ll find a good spot at some point.] Stanley asked before he picked the blanket off of the counter again as well as his sandwich. Being the gentleman he is, he also picked up the Narrator’s journal and pen for him.

“Oh I could’ve gotten that, Stanley, but I believe we are! We could always come back if needed something, correct?” Stanley nodded in response, so the Narrator smiled. “Alright. I guess we can get going then!” 

Stanley made sure the Narrator grabbed his keys before they left, and he also made sure the Narrator locked the door behind them. Better to be safe than sorry about someone breaking into his house. Once outside, Stanley considered where to go for a moment before he realized the perfect spot. With a wide smile, he started to head down the path with the Narrator following behind him.

“Stanley, where are we going?” The Narrator followed behind Stanley as they weaved through the town and out to the outskirts. Stanley shook his head. He would figure it out soon enough. The Narrator looked around as they walked, and it soon clicked in his head.

“Stanley… Are.. Are we going back?” His heart initially dropped once they turned and started up the rocky path. Stanley stopped and looked back at the Narrator. He adjusted everything in his hands so he could sign easier.

[We aren’t going back. Just trying to make better memories from outside.] Stanley smiled encouragingly and reached his hand out for the Narrator to take. The Narrator hesitated and stared at his hand. It took him a moment to find the courage, but he carefully took Stanley’s hand. Stanley gave him an encouraging smile, kissed the back of his hand, and began to lead him up the path.

The Narrator’s heart beat hard in his chest as they walked more up the path. His grip tightened on Stanley’s hand. It would be alright. He just had to trust Stanley. Everything would work out perfectly. Stanley always had a plan.

Stanley gripped the Narrator’s hand tighter in response and looked back at him. He gave him a concerned and questioning look. Stanley’s expression said enough. He told the Narrator they could turn back if they wanted. They could find another spot to set up.

“No, no.. It’s fine Stanley. I am sure it will be delightful. I just don’t want to go back in there. I know we won’t, but it still is slightly frightening. As scared as I am out here, I can’t return there.” The Narrator’s voice shook slightly, but he stayed mostly composed. 

Stanley frowned gently, looked at the Narrator, and pulled him in closer. Stanley placed a gentle kiss on the Narrator’s cheek. The kiss told him everything he needed. They wouldn’t go back, and they would be safe and comfortable together. They would never go back to that godforsaken facility.

“Alright. Alright.” The Narrator smiled gently and nuzzled into Stanley for the moment they were close. “Let’s go make some better memories.”

Stanley beamed and pulled the Narrator along. Before long, the stone walls framed the path and they passed the abandoned train station. Stanley paused for a moment and pointed to it. They could stop there if they wanted, but the Narrator shook his head. He wanted to go closer.

The Narrator hoped seeing the facility could give him some closure. In his head, it would either go terribly, or it would give him the ability to move on from it all. The door should be shut and exactly the way they left it. The Narrator decided that if that wasn’t the case, they definitely would need to find a new spot to set up their picnic.

The large facility door finally came into view. It was nuzzled into a side of a mountain, and it was shut tight. Everything looked exactly as they left it as the Narrator wanted it to.

The Narrator stopped in his tracks. The birds sang like the day they first left. Wind played with Stanley and the Narrator’s hair, just like it did when they first were freed. With the days that passed outside of it, it was almost unbelievable that they used to be trapped there.

“Wow.. it’s still shut at least.” The Narrator was nearly speechless. The memories raced back to him, but quickly turned into something not as negative. They instead focused on the first day they escaped. That wonderful day.

Stanley looked at the Narrator. His own heart raced in his chest. So many times he left this door. So many times he was stuck behind the giant door over and over. It was different now. Stanley went to comfort the Narrator, but the Narrator burst into joyful laughter.

“Look at it! All that time being stuck in there, and now it’s the one that’s stuck! All that pain, and now that stupid facility is powerless!” The Narrator laughed as he gestured to the door. Stanley was surprised at first, but he soon joined him in laughter.

All those resets of suffering, all those deaths, and all of those painful silent moments were stuck back behind a concrete wall. The Parable had no power over them anymore. Stanley and the Narrator laughed at the thought. They were free. They were truly free.

The pair spent several minutes laughing at the irony of it before they finally calmed down. Stanley looked around for a good spot to set up their picnic and decided on a nice shady spot under a tree near the door. He tapped the Narrator and walked over to the shade with him. The Narrator helped Stanley put the blanket out, and he sat against the tree trunk.

“Honestly, Stanley, I’m surprised how alright I am with this situation. I feared coming back here greatly, but now I feel even more free than before. We are out of the grasp of the Parable.” The Narrator smiled at Stanley as he looked at the door again.

[It’s amazing.] Stanley beamed and grabbed his sandwich. In all honesty, he was very hungry, so he didn’t want to waste any more time before eating. While he dug in, the Narrator kept his eyes on the door.

It was weird to see the door like this. Not only shut, but it was shut with the pair outside of it. They spent so long in there under its power, but now they were outside. The world was so beautiful out there compared to the horror of the Parable. All the pain and suffering inside were..  Well, stuck inside.

The Narrator smiled and looked back at Stanley. His smile was wide and genuine. After a moment, the Narrator picked up the notebook and opened it up. He uncapped the pen and rested his hand on the page. As he started to write, he said the words before they hit the page.

“This is a story of… the ocean and the beach.”

Stanley listened happily as the Narrator verbally brainstormed and started to write. He ate rather quickly and laid down once he was done. He laid on his back under the sun while the Narrator stayed sitting against the tree trunk under its shade. The Narrator crossed his legs as he wrote in the journal in his lap.

“The ocean’s waves hugged the beach closely.. As it knew the embrace couldn’t last.” The Narrator mumbled as he neatly wrote down on the pages. He tapped the end of the pen against his chin as he thought about where to bring the story next. Despite not a lot of time passing, he wrote quite a few pages already.

Stanley smiled at him and flipped over to lie on his stomach. He propped himself up on his elbows and watched the Narrator. After a moment, the Narrator looked up from the journal and smiled at Stanley.

“Do you have any ideas, Stanley?” The Narrator questioned, and Stanley did have an idea. It wasn’t helpful for the story, but it was an idea!

Stanley nodded and sat up. He walked on his knees over to the Narrator and gently took the book and pen from him. He set them off to the side. The Narrator raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to question him again, but Stanley plopped down right across his lap. The Narrator stammered for a moment before smiling gently.

“Have I not paid enough attention to you today?” The Narrator chuckled lightly and pat Stanley’s back. Stanley eventually readjusted himself, laid on his back, and rested just his head on the man’s lap. He smiled up at him, and soon the Narrator returned the wide smile as well.

“I suppose I should take a little break writing.” Before he even thought much about it, the Narrator put his hand into Stanley’s hair. He ruffled it softly and smiled down at Stanley. “It really is a beautiful day out, isn’t it? I’m glad you brought me here.”

[You’re very welcome.] Stanley happily signed back and shut his eyes. He loved the Narrator’s hand in his hair like that. His touch was so gentle and sweet like it always was. The Narrator smiled wider and used his free hand to hold one of Stanley’s. This moment was absolutely perfect. Nothing could ruin it.

And nothing did.

Thankfully, after so many days of constant struggle and anxiety, they were free from it. Nothing bad happened and they could relax like they badly needed. The Narrator and Stanley spent hours with one another as they rambled about whatever came to their mind. They stayed in close company underneath the shade of the tree. The weather was absolutely gorgeous, not too warm but not too windy either.

“Today was perfect for this, Stanley. I couldn’t imagine a better day to be outside.” The Narrator smiled wide at Stanley, who still remained in his lap. He nodded in response with a mirrored smile. Time had passed, but neither knew how much time it had been. Neither did they really care.

Stanley only started to care once his hunger started to return. The sun was starting to move down in the sky and neared the horizon. Stanley kept his head in the Narrator’s lap, and the Narrator had returned to writing. Stanley was a bit in the way, so the Narrator had to hold the journal up off of his lap as he wrote.. He muttered to himself, but soon Stanley tapped his arm gently.

“Do you need something, dear Stanley?” The Narrator looked down at him. Stanley smiled from the name and nodded gently.

[I think we should get going home before it gets dark.] He signed and then pointed at the sky in the direction of the sun. It was still around an hour before sunset, but he didn’t want them to have to walk home in the dark. And, of course, he was beginning to get hungry. The Narrator looked toward the sky.

“That is an excellent idea, Stanley. As much as I love being here, we should get a move on. Hopefully we can do this again though.” The Narrator smiled at Stanley, and he returned the expression. After a moment, Stanley sat up and stretched to allow the Narrator to stand up as well.

The Narrator smiled and shut his journal before he stood up and stretched his legs. As he did, his joints cracked. Stanley jolted from the noise and looked at him before signing a quick [are you okay?]

“Oh please, Stanley. Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I’m falling apart.” The Narrator chuckled and Stanley joined him in gentle laughter. Stanley stood up as well, but his bones didn’t make nearly as much noise as the other’s.

After the two men finally stabilized themselves on their feet after lying and sitting down for so long, they started to pick up their things. Stanley folded up the blanket and the Narrator held onto his journal, pen, and trash from his companion’s lunch. As he waited for Stanley to finish folding the blanket, the Narrator looked back at the door.

He smiled gently as he looked at it. If anything good came out of the Parable, it was that he met Stanley. It probably, rather absolutely, was the best thing that came out of the absolute mess inside the facility. 

[Ready to go?] Stanley positioned himself in front of the Narrator to sign so he could see. The Narrator smiled and nodded.

“Lead the way, Stanley. Time to go back home.” The Narrator kept the smile on his face as Stanley reached out to grab his hand. Hand in hand, the pair headed toward Stanley’s house to end off the day.

“I think I’m going to end the story on a high note, Stanley. So many stories end off so sadly, it honestly makes me upset.” Stanley finished eating dinner several minutes ago, but he remained at the table with the Narrator. He loved listening to the Narrator speak and certainly didn’t want to interrupt his brainstorming. 

[I think that would be amazing.] Stanley smiled at him. The Narrator seemed to notice he was done, and he stood up, taking Stanley’s plate with him. [Wait what? I can-]

“It’s alright, Stanley.” The Narrator smiled and kissed Stanley’s cheek as he passed by him. “I can wash up for you. You did most of the cooking anyway, so it’s the least I can do.” The Narrator kept a smile on his face even though Stanley stood up and followed after him into the kitchen.

As he washed up, the Narrator hummed softly and made a few comments about his story. In between sentences, he yawned gently. While the day was absolutely enjoyable, he was more tired than usual from being outside.

[We can go to bed once we are done.] Stanley smiled as he signed at the Narrator.

“Oh, I don’t want the day to end yet, though. Tomorrow is the big dinner. I don’t want that to come just yet.” The Narrator stared at the dishes as he scrubbed them. “Today was absolutely amazing though, don’t get me wrong. I just.. Don’t want to waste any of it.”

[We still will have most of tomorrow.] Stanley signed once the Narrator looked up again. [The dinner isn’t until late. Plus, today was really great. I’m getting tired myself.] Stanley smiled encouragingly at him. The dinner was a bit stressful, but he didn’t want to let his anxieties tarnish the amazing day they had.

At the mention of Stanley being tired, the Narrator totally forgot about him wanting to delay the end of the night. He smiled, quickly finished with the dishes, and dried his hands.

“I suppose we both should get some sleep then. It’ll prepare us for more fun to have tomorrow before your dinner.” The Narrator sleepily smiled at him. Without missing a beat, Stanley took his hand and led him upstairs to their bedroom. The Narrator yawned again as they walked.

Stanley changed into his pajamas and made a mental note that he definitely had to shower in the morning when they woke up. The Narrator still hadn’t gotten a shower, but he didn’t seem to need one either. The Narrator worked in many mysterious ways that Stanley couldn’t even attempt to understand.

After removing his glasses, the Narrator slipped under the covers in his own matching pajama set. Stanley joined him quickly after. He barely had time to get comfortable before the other man nuzzled close to him under the covers. Stanley chuckled and immediately cuddled close to him in response.

“Goodnight Stanley. I’ll see you in the morning.” The Narrator smiled wide and hid his face in Stanley.

Stanley, on the other hand, had a different plan. He brought the Narrator’s chin up, kissed him sweetly on the lips for a moment, pulled away, and nuzzled into his hair. The Narrator chuckled lightly and stayed close to him.

“I love you too, Stanley,” was all he said until he quickly fell asleep in the other man’s wonderful embrace. 

The room was silent around Stanley. At first, he heard the familiar rambling, but now the room was full of uncomfortable silence after the button press. The room was dark and cold. A clock sat on the wall ahead of him, but it broke a long time ago. The only light in the room was caused by the yellow button glowing on front of him. Stanley didn’t want to press it, he never did. He just never had another choice.

Suddenly he was in a desert. His lungs stung from the heat and sand, causing him to choke with each breath. He missed the voice that normally always accompanied him. Everything was far too silent without him there. There were times when Stanley wanted nothing more than to shut him up, but now he didn’t want the opposite more. He never wanted to hear him shut up again. He needed to hear his voice. 

He wandered for what felt like hours, days even, before everything reset, and he returned to his office. The British voice greeted him again like it never happened. Stanley sobbed into a confused Narrator as he attempted to comfort the worker. He decided he would never be without the Narrator again. 

Stanley’s eyes shot open and his chest heaved. He was laying on his back and staring at the ceiling with only the soft moonlight to illuminate the room. His cheeks were wet with tears he didn’t realize had cried. Stanley took a shaky breath and glanced next to him.

The Narrator held onto Stanley’s arm as they slept. He kept a pretty firm grip on it and his other hand intertwined its fingers with Stanley’s. The Narrator was right there beside him. He wasn’t gone. He would never be gone again. Stanley would do anything to make sure he would never leave again.

Stanley adjusted their position and gripped tightly onto the Narrator, burying his face in the Narrator’s shoulder. He was right there. He wasn’t going anywhere. Stanley would make sure of it.

“My dear Stanley… You’re trembling..” The Narrator’s voice was groggy as he started to rub Stanley’s back without a second thought. He hummed gently and kept his eyes shut. Stanley’s movement to hug onto him caused him to wake up, but he didn’t mind at all. Stanley tried to sign his apologies into the Narrator’s back, but the Narrator placed gentle kisses on his scalp before he could.

“It’s alright Stanley..” The Narrator nuzzled into his hair. “Did you have a bad dream.?” His question received a light nod from Stanley who continued to keep his face hidden. The Narrator kept his face in Stanley’s hair as he yawned inconspicuously.

“Aw.. It was just a dream, Stanley. It’s not real. Everything is okay. I’m right here, and we are here together.” He cooed as he rubbed Stanley’s back and placed another kiss on his head. The Narrator held back another yawn, clutching his jaw.

But it was real, Stanley wanted to tell him. Everything was real and it happened to them. Stanley pressed that button and caused the Narrator to deteriorate. It was his fault it happened. With the knowledge of time that passed in the real world, he had no idea how it happened, but it was real to him. To them. Stanley held onto the Narrator tighter.

He didn’t want to leave him. Tomorrow was the dinner, but he didn’t want to leave him. Stanley could swear him wanting to stay was for the Narrator’s sake, but it was for his as well. The Narrator knew what happened to him, at least while in the Parable, but these new people didn’t even have context. They would try to force the “old Stanley” onto him. They would try to bring back the Stanley they knew.

But that wasn’t the Stanley he was anymore. Wren told him that himself. Stanley wasn’t the same. He didn’t even know who the old Stanley was. How was he supposed to be someone he didn’t know?

Stanley wanted to believe that Wren understood what he explained to him about the Parable, but he knew it flew right over his head. He understood either nothing or very very little. Stanley couldn’t exactly blame him either. Part of him knew this would happen, but it still disappointed him. Stanley just wanted someone else to understand. He wanted it so badly.

This was the real world now. He knew he couldn’t return to his life in the Parable, frankly he didn’t want to, but it hurt to know that no one would take him seriously. No one would believe a man talking about dying over and over in an office building that keeps resetting. Was there even a point to share it anymore?

“Stanley.. You’re in your thoughts again. What’s wrong, my dear?” The Narrator’s soft voice and gentle touches drew him away from his quickly dangerous thoughts. He pulled away from the hug slightly to look at Stanley’s face and expression.

His whole body was tense, and the Narrator could see his tears shine in the moonlight. Stanley still shook lightly which caused the Narrator frowned gently. 

“You don’t have to say anything right now.. We can just stay here, how does that sound?” The Narrator smiled sweetly and carefully wiped Stanley’s eyes from tears. Stanley nuzzled into his touch. He nodded softly in response. Returning to sleep would be amazing since it had to be around midnight.

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow morning, alright? I’m right here, and please don’t hesitate to wake me up if it happens again.” The Narrator placed a soft kiss on Stanley’s cheek. He meant what he said too. He wanted to be there for Stanley always, even if it involved his sleep being interrupted.

Stanley smiled at the gesture and the offer. He nodded happily and kissed the Narrator’s head in response. Some sleep would do wonders for sure. Stanley just needed more sleep. The Narrator was right here with him, and he wouldn’t be leaving. With another kiss and a closer hug, the pair fell back asleep.

Stanley opened his eyes again. There he was, standing at the top of a massive staircase. His vision was tinted red as he stared down at the ground. He didn’t want to move, he only wanted to lie down and curl up into a ball on the floor. Every centimeter of his body hurt. Stanley wanted nothing more than to go back to the starry room.

He didn’t have a choice. He only had one way down, and it was by jumping. Even if he returned to the starry room, Stanley knew the only way to reset was through death. The Narrator often berated him with his power over his choices, but Stanley felt powerless. Especially right where he stood.

His body felt so heavy as it heaved with each breath. He felt so hot but freezing cold at the same time. Everything was far too overwhelming as his heartbeat echoed in his ears. His body shook as he stared at the ground. He knew what had to happen to him. Completely out of his control, Stanley took a step forward and fell off of the top of the stairs.

He jolted awake upon his impact with the ground. Tears were already formed in his eyes again and his heart raced. Two nightmares in one night. He just wanted time to relax, and he got two nightmares in return. Deep breaths, Stanley.. Deep breaths.

Stanley looked at the Narrator in his arms. Thankfully, he hadn’t woken up this time. He took another deep breath and slowly pulled away from him. Each movement was slow and deliberate as to not wake him up. Stanley wanted nothing more than to stay beside him, but he knew he couldn’t sleep without more nightmares, and he didn’t want to wake him up again.

After successfully getting out of bed, Stanley stared at the Narrator for a moment. He looked so peaceful. His hair was feathered out on the pillow, and he was curled slightly around himself due to the absence of Stanley. The Narrator needed his sleep, but in all honesty, Stanley didn’t actually know if he needed to sleep at all. He didn’t need to eat, after all. Either way, Stanley did not want to bother him over his silly dreams.

With careful silent footsteps, Stanley left the bedroom and walked downstairs. The floorboards creaked under him despite his efforts and caused him to move slower. He walked into the kitchen, the moon watching him through the window.

With a shaky hand, Stanley fetched himself a glass of water and stood at the window above the sink. He stared out at the moon. His attempts to rub the tears from his face were fruitless as they had already dried on his face.

The moon watched as Stanley fell apart. Stanley’s eyes started to leak more and more as he stared back at it. How dare it watch him at this moment of weakness? Why was it judging him so hard over something he couldn’t control? The moon didn’t know anything about what Stanley was going through. It had no idea.

Stanley furiously rubbed the new tears away and took his eyes away from the moon. He couldn’t stand to look at it right now. He needed to think of something, anything else. Nothing caught his attention until he heard a nearly silent small buzz that came from the dining room.

Without a second thought, Stanley set his water glass down, walked into the dining room, looked for his phone on the table. He left it behind after the dinner with Wren and hadn’t touched it since. Stanley’s heart raced harder as he picked it up and turned it on. Dozens upon dozens of notifications cluttered the screen. There was far too much to look at, so he settled his eyes on the topmost one.

The phone told him it was 3 AM, and more interestingly, someone texted him at 3 AM. The message was rather long and cut off on the main screen, so Stanley tapped on it, typed his password in, and the message opened.

‘Hey Stanley. I wanted to text you again. Wren said he met you yesterday and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. We are worried about you Stanley. I know we are going to see you at dinner, but I still can’t help but worry. I had a dream about you. A dream that you died. Please don’t die on us, Stan. See you tomorrow if you even see this <3’

Stanley stared at the message for a moment. Apparently “Aubrey” sent it. He recognized the name, but couldn’t quite connect it to a face yet. It was a name from his scrapbook, he knew that much.

He looked at the keyboard that popped up at the bottom of the screen when he opened the message. Was he supposed to respond to it? How was he supposed to respond? He didn’t know this person at all. He thought for a moment before he pressed a button on the keyboard cautiously. What was h-

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

It said that the person, Aubrey, was typing something, and soon enough, another message popped onto his screen.

‘Stanley?? Are you responding? Are you there?’

Stanley stared at the new message before a new one was immediately being constructed. Without even letting a new one be sent, he swiftly turned his phone off, put it back on the table screen down, and returned to the kitchen. His heart drummed hard in his chest and he decided that maybe the moon, albeit judgy, was much better than his phone.

He found himself at the window again as he stared at the moon. He was still shaking slightly, but he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. Stanley picked up his cup again and took a slow sip. The Narrator and he almost had a full day ahead of them. Stanley sighed and stared at the moon again. He would have another nearly full day to relax.

“Stanley..? I wondered where you wandered off to.” The Narrator slowly approached the shadowed figure with a yawn. Stanley jolted at first and looked back at him. He didn’t even hear him come downstairs. 

“Is everything okay.?” The Narrator could barely see in the dark, the moon supplying only a faint light through the kitchen window. He vaguely made out Stanley’s shape at the sink, but not much else.

He certainly didn’t miss when the shadow shook its head. The Narrator frowned slightly and stood beside the shadow, turning his attention to the moon sitting on the hilltop.

“Did you have a nightmare again?” He didn’t even need to look at Stanley to know the answer. The Narrator said they would talk in the morning, but no better time than now.

“I assume they are about the Parable, am I correct?” The Narrator spoke only slightly above a whisper. Stanley nodded gently at the question, but the Narrator kept his eyes staring out the window. He knew the answer already.

“I… I have been having the same dreams admittedly. I am certain they are different based on our experiences, but the Parable has been taking over my thoughts as well. I think the door reinforced them..” The Narrator set his hands on the edge of the counter, and Stanley wasted no time in putting his hand over the Narrator’s. He was silent for a moment before he started to speak again.

“What if none of it was real, Stanley? It just seems impossible that it happened, doesn’t it?” The Narrator adjusted his hand and fully held Stanley’s. 

“My mind keeps returning to that damned skip button. It was years , Stanley. I spent years alone. But.. Apparently it was only a week. Everything in the Parable happened in a week. How does that make sense, Stanley?” The Narrator rambled and fidgeted with his free hand. He stared out at the moon.

Stanley nodded along as he spoke. The thoughts were brewing in the back of his head too, but he never wanted to bring them up. He wanted to comment again but didn’t. He didn’t want to take his hand away from the Narrator.

“But.. I’m here. Something had to have happened if I am here, and the door is still there as well. While you have ties back to this world, I don’t.” The Narrator glanced at his hand in Stanley’s. “At least, I don’t have any that we know of.” The Narrator’s mind turned over on itself, and he only had more questions, but he stayed quiet for now.

The pair fell into silence as they stared out of the window in front of them. Very quickly, the silence made both of them uncomfortable. Silence never served them well in the past, and it especially wasn’t appreciated after the nightmares. Stanley kept the Narrator’s hand in his and slowly started to hum. He didn’t know what he was humming, but he just needed to fill the air.

The Narrator looked at Stanley and smiled gently. After a moment, he leaned his head on Stanley’s shoulder and moved closer to him. 

“I suppose.. Things will work out, won’t they? We have each other, and I am certain that won’t change.” The Narrator smiled but part of his mind still panicked. What if it did change? What if Stanley wanted to move on and things wouldn’t work out?

Stanley could tell the anxiety on the Narrator’s face. The Narrator often tried to hide it, but it was rather easy to see. He continued to hum gently as he started to plan something. After a moment, he kissed the Narrator’s head and let go of his hand to sign.

[Stay right here. I have an idea.] Stanley smiled and slipped away into the dark of the dining room. The Narrator watched him and stayed absolutely still.

“What are you planning, Stanley? Can we at least turn a light on?” The Narrator squinted through his glasses to try and see in the dark. These darned human eyes.

Before long, Stanley returned with his phone. He was typing away at the screen and pulling something up. The Narrator could see his face now from the light of the phone. Stanley looked absolutely exhausted, but he still smiled. While originally upset with Stanley’s appearance, he couldn’t help but smile as well.

Stanley clicked a few more things on his phone until a gentle song started to play. He set his phone down on the counter and beamed.

[May I have this dance, Sir?] Stanley kept a smile on his face and extended his hand to the Narrator in front of him.

It could be counted on one hand how many times they danced in the Parable, and it was a pretty even split between who initiated it. Stanley’s favorite time by far was when they danced in the memory zone. Neither man knew how to dance at all, but they enjoyed it more that way. They always ended up laughing and brightly beaming, and Stanley felt like they needed that right now.

The Narrator chuckled at the gesture. Of course, Stanley never used to actually ask him and just outstretched his arm. Additionally, the extra ‘Sir” caused him to blush lightly.

“Well, of course you can, Sir .” The Narrator giggled and took his outstretched hand happily. The returned sir title made Stanley chuckle, and he pulled the Narrator close to him. Stanley wrapped one of his arms around the Narrator’s waist and held their connected arms out. The Narrator put his arm on Stanley’s shoulder. They perfectly fit together and started to gently sway at first.

“It’s been a while since we have done this, hasn’t it Stanley?” The Narrator smiled as they started to dance a proper, slow waltz. He hummed along with the tune that played. “Having actual music is rather nice as well.”

Stanley nodded with a wide, dorky smile. It was still dark, but the moonlight seemed to shine brighter on the two. Their eyes also adjusted to the dim lighting, so they could better see one another. Stanley was far from graceful, but he took his steps carefully and slowly. The Narrator randomly decided to teach him one day, and it was nice to see that the lessons paid off.

“You definitely have gotten better since we first started, Stanley.” The Narrator smiled encouragingly at him. His tiredness had quickly faded away as he swayed and stepped in time with the man in his arms. To show his appreciation, Stanley kissed the Narrator’s head gently. Unfortunately, the kiss caused him to lose his footing and he accidentally stepped on the Narrator’s foot.

[Sorry!] Stanley immediately recoiled his hands to apologize, but the Narrator just chuckled.

“It’s alright! It really is. A trade of a stepped on foot for a kiss seems pretty worth it.” The Narrator beamed at Stanley, which only caused him to smile wider.

[You old sap.] Before the Narrator could attempt to defend himself, Stanley took the opportunity to pull him close again, and dip him with a goofy grin on his face,

“Oh dear!” The Narrator flailed for a moment but soon relaxed once he realized that Stanley still supported him. “I wasn’t prepared for that, Stanley!” The Narrator started to chuckle again. His face blushed again as he looked up at Stanley.

Stanley kept a massive grin on his face and he pushed his forehead against the Narrator’s. Together, they shared a joyous laugh. Both of their anxieties and nightmares were completely clear from their head. All they could focus on was each other and close they were.

Their laughter slowly calmed down, and they were left staring at one another with their foreheads pushed together. A moment passed before the Narrator brought one of his hands to Stanley’s cheek, and they connected in a kiss.

The kiss lasted for a few wonderful moments before Stanley started to laugh again. The Narrator joined him, and their lips separated as they laughed together. Stanley pulled the Narrator up and let him stand on his own again. They both eventually calmed their laughter down as the music continued to play in the background.

“Oh Stanley, thank you so much. Just for everything.” He beamed at Stanley in the dark before he approached him again and hugged him tightly. “Thank you so much for being here with me and helping me with this new world full of experiences. I know I can often be difficult with my.. Choice issues, but you have been there for me the whole time. I can’t thank you enough.”

Stanley smiled and hugged him back tightly. He owed the Narrator so many ‘thank you’s as well. He could never say enough, or anything really, to thank him for all he did. The Narrator was always there for him. No matter how hard things got, or how terrible Stanley acted, the Narrator stayed with him.

Stanley planted another kiss onto the Narrator’s head and he yawned. Even though he was fully awake and moving around, he barely got any sleep. He really needed sleep to prepare for the day coming up, and the Narrator quickly understood.

“Would you like to return to bed, Stanley? I can imagine you are still awfully tired,” he asked him after noticing his yawn. Stanley hesitated to agree. He really didn’t want to have any more nightmares, but he really did need to sleep. After a moment, he finally nodded.

“I’ll be right there with you, I promise. I do mean it though, please wake me up if you have a nightmare again.” The Narrator noticed Stanley’s apprehension to agreeing. He really wanted to make sure Stanley felt better.

Stanley nodded again and smiled gently. [Thank you so much. Sleeping does sound really nice.] After he spoke, he pulled away from the Narrator and turned the music off on his phone. The Narrator smiled and stretched out his hand to take Stanley’s. Once their hands were together, they carefully walked up the dark stairs and returned to their bedroom.

Both of them got back into bed and remained close the whole time. The dancing really made both of them feel so much better, so hopefully the memory would keep the nightmares at bay.

“Goodnight for real this time, Stanley. Hopefully you are able to actually rest.” The Narrator smiled and placed a gentle kiss on each of Stanley’s hand. He admittedly stole that move from Stanley, but it caused both of them to smile so it was worth it.

Stanley would’ve pulled his hands to sign, but he was too tired to do so. He instead kissed the Narrator’s head as a small goodnight before nuzzling close to him. Before long, they both fell back asleep and thankfully were able to sleep through the whole night without any other nightmares.

Pleasantly enough, the both of them had a wonderful dream about a wide pink ballroom with the pair together. Stanley and the Narrator both wore perfectly fitting suits as they danced along to gentle, sweet music. They both wanted to stay there together for as long as they could, even if it was just a dream.

Chapter Text

The morning approached both of the men far too quickly. Neither of them wanted to wake up from their amazing dream, but their bodies had other ideas. The Narrator woke up first, but he stayed in Stanley’s arms until he woke up as well. Stanley yawned as he instinctively pulled the Narrator closer to him.

“Good morning, Stanley.” The Narrator spoke with a sleepy grin and nuzzled into Stanley’s chest. He yawned before he continued. “I had the most amazing dream last night.”

The way Stanley kissed his head and squeezed him tighter told him that he had exactly the same dream. Maybe they both were actually dancing together in their combined dreamscape. Wouldn’t that be lovely? The Narrator cuddled close to Stanley and the pair remained together in bed for a few more minutes in joyful bliss.

Finally, Stanley slowly shifted to get up, and the Narrator let him go to allow him to. Stanley yawned once more, rubbed his eyes, and attempted to fix his hair. His hands grazed the gauze wrap around his head and he frowned slightly. He nearly forgot about that whole mess.

The Narrator stayed laying down for another moment before he sat up and collected his glasses. He set them on his nose, the bruise thankfully not causing any pain when he did. With them now on his face, he looked at a clear, and more specifically, frowning Stanley.

“Is something the matter, Stanley?” The Narrator spoke gently and unintentionally mirrored Stanley’s frown to reflect his concern.

Stanley shook his head and pointed to the wrap around his head. He quickly signed on, [I forgot about it. I think I need to change it after I shower.] The Narrator nodded along as he interpreted Stanley’s signs. In all truth, the Narrator himself had forgotten about it too. Sure it was very noticeable, but he grew to ignore it rather quickly.

“I can help you get it all wrapped up again once you’re done.” He smiled as he spoke. Maybe he still didn’t fully know what a shower was or what it did, but he would help Stanley with that too if he needed it. He did take one a bit ago and was fine on his own, but he also didn’t have a huge wound then.

[Thank you.] Stanley smiled, stood up, and walked to the closet to grab a fresh pair of clothes. He set the chosen clothes down on the bed and looked at the Narrator. [How about you get some tea started as I shower?]

The Narrator nodded. It was a wonderful idea… But he would have to pick his tea on his own, wouldn’t he? With Stanley showering, it would just be him downstairs. He quickly attempted to swallow down his anxieties and nodded.

“Yeah. I think that would be lovely. Would you like me to get your coffee ready too?” The Narrator got up and walked to the closet to get some clothes as well. He picked something a little nicer for the day. Not only did he feel up for one of the nice brown suits he bought, but the dinner also was later that night. He certainly hadn’t forgotten about that. He still didn’t know if he would go yet, but he may as well be ready for anything. 

[That would be lovely. Thank you.] Stanley approached the Narrator and kissed his head happily. [Also you should go with English breakfast today. Maybe with a little splash of milk too.] Stanley grinned from ear to ear and kissed his cheek before grabbing his clothes again and heading to the bathroom.

“Ah. Thank you, Stanley!” The Narrator called after him and wore the same wide, goofy smile on his face. He swore Stanley could read his mind sometimes. That or he knew him better than he even knew himself.

After quickly getting changed and adding a fun yellow tie to top his outfit off, the Narrator walked downstairs and wasted no time in putting a full kettle on the stove. He hummed to himself and started the coffee maker. While he hummed for a moment, he eventually noticed Stanley’s phone remaining on the counter. Stanley played music with it last night, rather early this morning, so maybe the Narrator could play something too.

Of course, it took no time for him to remember and type in the password. He still couldn’t believe that Stanley was obsessed with 8s even before the Parable. With the phone unlocked, it immediately opened up to a video that played waltz music. The Narrator grinned from the memory of dancing for a moment before he exited from the video and searched for other music to put on.

He eventually settled on playing some piano music. He didn’t recognize it or the composer, but he absolutely loved the sound of pianos. Satisfied with his choice, he put the phone back down and returned to setting up the coffee machine for Stanley.

The Narrator, in all honesty, loved setting the coffee machine up. Stanley only had one flavor of grounds and the process was a simple step-by-step. It was a dream come true for the Narrator. The only choice left to make would be the mug, but that one was fun. He often picked the yellow one for himself and then decided to grab a light blue one for Stanley. The Narrator picked one of the English breakfast tea bags, put it in his mug, and put Stanley’s mug under the coffee maker.

Stanley finished up with his shower and carefully dried his hair off while avoiding the wound on his forehead. It was scabbed over and healing, but it still was sensitive to the touch. Stanley wrapped the towel around his waist and stared at himself in the foggy mirror. He wiped it down using his hand before finally making eye contact with the man he saw.

Dark circles sat under his eyes, his stubble was really filling out, and of course that aggressive wound was now a brownish red with yellow around the edges. It honestly looked grosser than it had fresh. Even if it was healing itself, he absolutely needed to cover it before he saw other people.

Oh, right. He would see other people really soon. The dinner was tonight. Stanley made eye contact with his exhausted reflection and rubbed the light beard on his jaws. He probably should shave before seeing everyone too. Shave and absolutely wrap his head back up. Wren already freaked out upon seeing it, so he didn’t need that to happen again.

After another moment of trying to affirm that it was indeed him he was seeing in the mirror, Stanley grabbed a razor sitting on the sink. He had to search for a moment before he found shaving cream, and he hoped he remembered how to properly shave. Stanley spread the foam all over his face, washed his hands, and got to attempting to shave.

Stanley was pretty impressed with himself when he was done. He washed his face from any leftover shaving cream and looked at his reflection again. Somehow he didn’t leave any spots and was rather clean-shaven. Well, aside from his little soul patch. It was a necessity after all. After he was all shaved and cleaned up, he finally fully dried off, got dressed, and headed downstairs. The gauze was on the dining table still, so the Narrator could help him down there.

The water started to boil, so the Narrator took the kettle from the heat and poured the water into his mug. Stanley’s coffee still had a few minutes to go, but the Narrator’s tea still needed to steep. The times would almost perfectly balance out.

A few moments after the Narrator poured the water and set the timer, Stanley came down the steps. While fully dressed, his hair was still almost fully wet. The Narrator heard him coming down and looked over, a smile growing on his face initially.

“Hello there Stanley. Oh! I’ve seen you’ve shaved a little too, haven’t you? You certainly clean up nicely. And.. uh..” The Narrator trailed off after noticing the huge, massive, disgusting looking wound on Stanley’s head. “Well... At least it is healing, right?” Stanley couldn’t help but chuckle gently from the reaction.

[I know. It’s a bit gross. Do you want to help me wrap it up?] Stanley gave a soft smile to the Narrator before he went to the dining room. While there, he grabbed the wrap and gauze that Wren left behind a few days ago. He picked it up, returned to the kitchen, and offered them to the Narrator.

“Oh! Of course, Stanley. I would love to. Does it hurt at all?” The Narrator took the wraps and looked around for a place to better wrap his wound. After a moment, he led Stanley to sit down in the dining room to allow him to easily reach his head.

[Not anymore. Just.. want to cover it up. It isn’t too pretty.] He signed as he sat down in one of the chairs. Stanley moved his hair back out of his forehead, so the Narrator could wrap it up for him. Of course, the Narrator didn’t really know where to start, but thankfully Stanley smiled gently and helped him.

“Well.. It’s good to know that it is healing at least.” The Narrator carefully wrapped Stanley’s head with his assistance. “I know I said it before, but I am known to repeat myself. You look rather nice all shaved like this. With.. of course your soul patch.” His smile dropped gently once noticing it. Stanley just couldn’t get rid of it, could he? 

[It’s staying, Narry.] Stanley chuckled at the comment. The Narrator was never fond of it, but Stanley himself really liked it! That’s what mattered. The Narrator let out a small, joking scoff and finished wrapping his head. 

Just as he finished wrapping it, the timer went off for his tea. The Narrator made sure everything was secure before he set the materials on the table and left Stanley to take care of the tea. Thankfully, Stanley wasn’t far behind him. Upon actually entering the kitchen, Stanley picked up on the soft piano music playing and smiled. He tapped the Narrator’s shoulder.

[You figured out how to play music?] Stanley smiled, reassuring him that it wasn’t a bad thing that he did. After he signed, he noticed his coffee was done as well. He moved to pour some while he listened to the response. 

“Oh yes. You left your phone here, and it immediately opened up to the music playing application. I figured I would play something gentle for the morning.” The Narrator grinned as he removed the teabag from his mug before walking to the fridge to grab milk, just as Stanley suggested. 

[It’s nice.] Stanley signed once the Narrator looked back at him. They exchanged a smile before the Narrator added a splash of milk to his mug and Stanley took a sip of his coffee. For a moment, the two were left in the gentle sound of piano music while they drank their respective hot beverages. Everything seemed perfect.

But, of course, the perfection couldn’t last forever.

Stanley set his mug down after a few minutes. [So.. the dinner with Harris is tonight.] Stanley looked at the Narrator as he signed, urgently looking for a reaction and hoping for something not super negative. The Narrator gave a small nod and kept his mug in his hands. His lips formed a straight line, but his expression was mostly unreadable.

“It is, isn’t it?” His voice was more serious than he intended for it to be. He quickly caught himself and tried to speak again. “I understand if you want me to stay here! I wouldn’t want to ruin everything with your friends.” The Narrator opened his mouth to continue, but Stanley quickly put his hand up to stop him.

[No, no, no! I want you to come! I want you to come with me.] Stanley frantically signed. He really knew he couldn’t go without him. He needed the Narrator with him, especially after last night. The days of the Parable were over, but the trauma from it certainly wasn’t.

The skip ending really did a number on both of the men. While the Narrator originally blocked out the topic of the ending, he soon succumbed to the truth of it. He would often come out of a reset and talk to Stanley about a vision, much like a dream, he had about it. The Narrator couldn’t stand to be without the worker, and fortunately for him, Stanley couldn’t be without him either. The long moments of dark, cold silence followed by insane ramblings that only led to more silence and loneliness caused Stanley to desire nothing else but to be beside his Narrator. Both of them grew a strong distaste for silence and, of course, being without the other.

The ending forever changed the dynamic of their relationship, but Stanley still worried about the dinner. He couldn’t leave the Narrator alone, but he would also be introducing him to three completely new people in an entirely new place. The Narrator met Wren and nearly fell apart and that was just one person in their home. Stanley just needed to support him more. He needed to make sure he paid enough attention to him while also talking to his friends. He just knew he could not, under any circumstance, leave him completely home alone.

[I wouldn’t leave you here alone, Narry. I couldn’t do that to you.] Stanley signed again quickly after he did before. The Narrator nodded gently along to what he said and let out a small sigh of relief.

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t, but I still got slightly worried.. I honestly don’t know what I would do if you just left me here.. alone.. And went out with your friends.” The Narrator looked down into his mug which caused Stanley to frown. Stanley gently took the mug out of his hands, set it on the counter, and pulled him into a hug.

Stanley didn’t need to use signs to tell the Narrator that he would never leave him again. He instead held him close in his arms, and they stayed together for a couple of minutes. The soft piano music continued to play as the two stayed connected, but they didn’t dance for now. They had drinks to get back to before they cooled down completely.

And that is just what they did. They broke apart and returned to their respective beverages. Stanley decided to make some breakfast for himself as they discussed their plan for the day. They had almost a full day before the dinner at 6:30. Even though they relaxed yesterday, they still badly wanted more time to calm down following the dreams of the night before. Thankfully, the day would allow that.

Stanley eventually made and ate a quick breakfast while both he and the Narrator slowly finished their drinks. They both tossed some ideas into the air for what they should do, but it mostly consisted of Stanley signing, and the Narrator agreeing with his thoughts. They finally settled on some ideas as Stanley cleaned up his dishes as well as his mug. He knew the Narrator would most likely reuse his mug later in the day, so he neglected to wash it for now. At least they were all dressed so they didn’t have to worry about that.

“I definitely think it would be a good idea to bring a gift to everyone.” The Narrator grabbed a plate Stanley washed and started to dry it. “What do people normally bring when they were gone for a week and have memory loss?” The Narrator smiled gently as he asked. It was a rather ridiculous question after all.

[We could bring food or maybe flowers.] Stanley signed before he returned to cleaning the pan he used.

“Oh! I think flowers would be rather lovely..” He thought for a moment. “Do you think we could maybe visit the flower field as well again today?” The Narrator smiled sweetly as he looked at Stanley. His flower from a few days ago still sat on the kitchen table, but it was wilted and withered now. Stanley was thinking about his need to replace it anyway, so he nodded in agreement to the idea.

“Are there florists around or can we just pick the flowers there?” The Narrator questioned as he swayed gently along to the piano music playing softy in the room. Stanley thought for a moment about it, trying to jog his memory.

[I think there is a florist. There should be at least.] Stanley smiled and finally finished washing all the dishes. [If not, we can probably just pick a few. They are very beautiful.] He grinned at the Narrator again before the two finished drying the dishes and put them away. It took a couple of minutes, but soon the kitchen was returned to its former clean glory.

“So.. Stanley. We do have some time until we need to get the flowers and such, so what should we do until then?” The Narrator asked as he put more water on for another mug of tea. He looked at Stanley and leaned against the counter. Stanley held his hands still in front of him as he thought, the action becoming a common habit.

[You could write more if you wanted.] Stanley leaned against the counter beside the Narrator. He really just wanted a day to relax until the dinner. He hoped it would go well, but he honestly had no clue. The Narrator being there would be nice, but he also knew it had the potential to go terribly. Stanley didn’t even know the other people he would be visiting. He knew their names and faces vaguely, but at least Wren would be there too.

Stanley furrowed his brows as he thought about it. Wren was his only connection back to the real world and the one who connected him to his other friends. He appreciated all he had done, but he also was a bit rude to the Narrator. In all fairness to Wren, he did apologize and was rather civil with him afterward. Stanley just didn’t know what the Narrator thought of him. They were talking pretty happily, but the Narrator still broke down a little about Stanley having other friends. Stanley hoped everything would be fine for the dinner. He just had to take some precautionary steps.

“Stanley? You’re in your thoughts again, I can tell.” The Narrator frowned and gripped Stanley’s hand. “How about we relax for a bit until we need to go. I can write a little, and you are free to help me with ideas. You could read your own book too if you wanted.” The gentle tone and touch helped draw Stanley from his worries and he smiled gently.

[That sounds lovely.] Stanley smiled wider and leaned his head on the Narrator for a few minutes. The kettle started to whistle, and the Narrator moved to pour it into his mug. Stanley took the opportunity and hugged him from behind when he turned his back. He rested his chin on the Narrator’s head and relaxed. He chuckled in response.

“You really cannot stand not being constantly close to me, can you?” The Narrator smiled but settled back into his touch. Stanley chuckled and nodded, squeezing him a bit tighter for a moment. 

The two men stayed together as the tea steeped and even a bit after. Eventually, they decided to leave the kitchen and head to the living room. Of course, Stanley remembered to bring the phone with him, so the music would accompany them there too. Their cuddling didn’t stop in the kitchen though. Once on the couch, the Narrator sat up with his journal and Stanley rested his head in his lap again like he did the day before on the picnic. As the Narrator would brainstorm out loud or think of what to write, he would run his hands through Stanley’s hair. Stanley wasn’t very useful with ideas, but the Narrator appreciated him being there nonetheless.

Their peacefulness continued for quite a while and neither of the men minded it for even a moment. They wanted to stay like that forever, but they both knew they couldn’t. At some point Stanley needed to eat lunch, they needed to get flowers, and they needed to go to the dinner. For now, they just wanted to stay together in comfortable company with the gentle piano music playing. Stanley made a small mental note that maybe a piano would look nice in this room too.

A few hours passed before Stanley finally decided he needed to get some lunch for himself. He slowly sat up and stretched slightly. The Narrator watched him, shut his journal, and sat up a bit straighter.

“Getting hungry, Stanley?” The Narrator capped his pen and set his journal in his lap. Stanley nodded gently and stood up finally. The Narrator moved his stuff from his lap to the table as he got up as well. He knew Stanley would probably make lunch on his own, but he liked to keep him company like usual.

[Slightly. Then we can go for our little walk when I am done.] Stanley grinned at the Narrator and left for the kitchen. A wide smile immediately spread across the Narrator’s face as well, and he wasted no time in trailing after Stanley.

“I think that would be delightful! I haven’t stopped thinking about that flower field since we visited it before. Especially if there is a florist around as well! Flowers just are wonderful, aren’t they, Stanley?” The man in question nodded in response and only caused the Narrator to continue his speech as they passed by a plant in the dining room. “Maybe we should get more flowers for the house too. Bring something fresh in.” 

Stanley chuckled gently and signed at the Narrator once they got to the kitchen. [We should probably water those around the house first, but I totally agree.] Stanley kept a smile on his face and got some stuff out for lunch. He settled on leftovers from last night for their ease.

“Oh! You’re right, Stanley. I can do that while you get your lunch. They have been looking a little.. Wilted lately.” The Narrator quickly grabbed a cup and filled it with water. “I suppose that is what happens when you don’t water them for almost two weeks.” He chuckled to himself before starting to water the small houseplants in the kitchen and further, the dining room.

With a smile and a small nod, Stanley finally returned his attention to the leftovers. He put them into the microwave and let them heat up while watching the Narrator slightly. The Narrator hummed to himself as he walked around the house and took care of the plants scattered about. 

Stanley must’ve been quite the gardener before the Parable. It was rather ironic honestly. Being stuck in a bland, lifeless office building with exactly one fern in comparison to his brightly colored house filled to the brim with potted plants. God, was he glad to be out of there now. He was glad both he and the Narrator were.

The microwave beeped as it finished heating up Stanley’s meal. With a gentle smile on his face, he pulled it out and grabbed a fork. He could’ve sat at the table, but he opted to instead lean against a counter in the kitchen as he ate. It wouldn’t take him too long to eat anyway.

“Don’t you want to sit down, Stanley?” The Narrator commented as he returned to the kitchen to refill his cup with water. He still had the plants upstairs to water. Stanley shook his head as he took another bite of his food. Before the Narrator could ask him a follow-up question, Stanley got some food on the fork and held it out to the other man. 

Without missing a beat, the Narrator ate the small bit and smiled gently. “It does taste pretty good. You did a wonderful job as always, Stanley, even heated up the day after.” He smiled wider, finished filling the cup, and dismissed himself to water the rest of the plants around the house. Stanley watched him walk off and returned to eating his lunch.

The Narrator wandered around the house and watered every plant he came across. There definitely weren’t as many spread around upstairs, but Stanley’s room had quite a few. The Narrator hummed to himself as he carefully poured water into each of the pots. He was rather impressed with the number and the state of the plants. There were so many, and most of them were pretty healthy. He didn’t imagine Stanley being this much of a gardener, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

After watering every last plant in the house, the Narrator finally walked back downstairs and found Stanley cleaning up from his lunch. Stanley smiled once the Narrator entered the room.

“Everything should be watered now and good to go then for a while. They survived this long without water so they must be pretty strong plants.” The Narrator smiled happily and put the cup on the edge of the sink. It just had water in it after all, so there was no need to wash it. 

[I’m honestly shocked. I am pretty glad though, they add some more color to the space.] Stanley smiled and dried his hands off. [Ready to get going then? We can wander around town a bit as well as visit the flowers and see if there is a florist.] He kept a warm smile on his face, and the Narrator soon shared the expression.

“I sure am, Stanley.” The Narrator grinned ear to ear as he watched Stanley grab his wallet and keys. After grabbing them and shoving them into his pockets, he offered his hand to the Narrator to take. He didn’t even slightly hesitate to grip it back and they finally left the house.

Saying it was gorgeous outside was an understatement. The sun bathed the two men in a warm and welcoming light and warmth. A small breeze played with the leaves on the trees and ran through the grass. The town was rather lively with the nice weather, but it thankfully wasn’t overwhelming to the Narrator. Stanley mostly kept the pair away from large groups just to be safe though.

Stanley and the Narrator walked on the outskirts of the town again, and the Narrator looked around as to keep an eye out for the flower field. Once it came into view, he excitedly walked forward and admittedly pulled Stanley along slightly. Not that he minded of course.

“Oh look at it! I still can’t believe how beautiful it is.” The Narrator beamed as he rested his other hand on the fence and looked at the pink, yellow, blue, and white flowers. His smile nearly shone as bright as the sun and Stanley swore he was going to go blind, but he didn’t dare to look away.

[Yeah it really is.] Stanley smiled wide as he looked at the Narrator before finally looking at the field. He wondered if he should take a different colored flower today or stick with yellow like last time. With the Narrator’s outfit though, the yellow would look wonderful. It nearly perfectly matched the yellow of his tie. 

The Narrator stared out at the flowers as he took the sight in. The air smelled slightly sweet from the nectar, and the Narrator watched as a few bees buzzed around the colorful petals. He still could never get over the beauty of the outside world. He wasn’t sure if he ever could. After all this time, he finally realized why he loved that fern so much and why he included so many flowers in the memory zone. He really loved plants, didn’t he?

Stanley’s eyes focused back on the Narrator after a moment. His smile was so wide, genuine, and bright. After all the pain they went through in the Parable and even outside of it, it was so nice to see him smile like that. Unfortunately, a small pit started to grow in Stanley’s chest. The happiness would be ruined by the dinner, he was sure of it. 

Stanley desperately tried to shake the thoughts from his head and fill the pit in his chest. Everything would go just fine. It would be perfect. To help clear his head, Stanley bent down again and grabbed a perfect yellow flower from behind the fence. He moved his hand to place it behind the Narrator’s ear again, but the Narrator stopped him.

“That’s nice of you Stanley, but..” The Narrator gently took the flower from his hand and instead tucked it behind Stanley’s ear. “I think it looks excellent on you this time.” The Narrator beamed again, and it caused Stanley to blush. This man would certainly be the death of him. Every single worry slipped away and the pit in his chest was instead refilled with gentle love and care for the Narrator.

Stanley finally composed himself after a moment and picked up another yellow flower. He stood up straight again and successfully tucked it behind the Narrator’s ear. [We both match now.] Stanley smiled wide like a dork, and the Narrator smiled wide as well. Everything felt perfect again, even if the dinner with his past friends was looming over them.

The Narrator and Stanley stayed together for a few moments as they stared out at the flowers. They conversed lightly, but it wasn’t long before they decided they should get to looking for a florist. Hand in hand, they started down the street as they both looked around for the shop they needed.

They wandered around aimlessly for a while, but they didn’t mind since the weather was so delightful. Their walking and looking paid off after a few minutes, and they finally found a small florist shop. The shop had buckets of colorful flowers outside and smelled absolutely wonderful. A wide smile spread across the Narrator’s face at the sight. Stanley grinned, held the door open for the Narrator, and followed him in.

“Hello you two! How are you both doing?” The worker behind the counter smiled wide at them. Stanley shot them a thumbs up before focusing on the Narrator. He was going to sign to him, but his eyes were wide and constantly looking around at all the colors. It smelt amazing, but it nearly was too much smell. The Narrator tried to ignore it.

[What do you think?] Stanley stood in front of the Narrator and signed for him. The Narrator watched him and nodded, his eyes still wide and sparkling with wonder.

“It’s amazing! The flowers all look so stunning and there are so many of them.” The Narrator looked past Stanley at everything. He glanced at the worker and shot them a shy smile before focusing on the flowers again. There was no possible way he could pick any flowers for them to bring, but Stanley was there as well as the worker.  Stanley shot him another smile before heading to the counter.

[Do you understand sign?] Stanley attempted as he looked at the worker. They frowned slightly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you are saying. Could you..” They grabbed a pad of paper and pen from under the table and set it on the counter. “Could you maybe write it down? I’m sorry again.” Stanley smiled and nodded gently. He took the pad and wrote down on it.

‘I’m looking to get some flowers for friends I’m visiting for the first time in a while. Any recommendations?’ Stanley turned the paper to them but quickly took it back to add on. ‘I also wanted to get him some too. He likes yellow a lot.’ Stanley turned it back around and smiled at the worker. The worker nodded as they read it.

“Alright! Sounds perfect.” The worker walked out from behind the table and led Stanley along to one of the walls of flowers. “For your friends I would really recommend some chrysanthemums, sunflowers, and tulips to start…”

Stanley walked around with the worker as they grabbed a few flowers that they started to group together in their hands. They spoke to Stanley at length about the meanings of the flowers, and he listened intently like he usually did to the Narrator when he rambled. As they walked around, Stanley constantly looked at the Narrator and checked in on him. He was doing well, still mesmerized by the flowers. 

The worker had collected a nice arrangement of flowers together, most of them pink, yellow, white, and orange. They all had wonderful meanings behind them, so Stanley approved of them all together. After a little back and forth with Stanley writing down his answers, they settled on the complete grouping and a nice vase as well.

In addition, the worker also collected a small little bouquet of several yellow flowers consisting of roses, zinnias, more sunflowers, and lilies for the Narrator. He questioned a few times what Stanley was doing, but he kept it a secret for now. The Narrator would figure it out soon enough that they were for him after all.

“Alright, so this will be the total cost for all of them together. How does that sound?” The worker showed Stanley the number, and he nodded with a smile. He paid with his card and even left the worker with a little tip for all of their help. It meant a lot to him since this dinner was something pretty serious.

“Oh, thank you so much! I hope you both have an amazing day!” The worker grinned sweetly at Stanley and then the Narrator when he finally joined Stanley at the counter as well. The Narrator hadn’t talked to the worker the whole time, but he gently smiled back at them..

Stanley handed the Narrator the smaller mason jar filled with his yellow bouquet, and he himself grabbed the larger one for the dinner. With another nod of thanks and a smile, the pair left the store.

“I really have to ask, Stanley. Who are these flowers for?” The Narrator looked at the nice collective of yellow flowers as he held them. The jar that contained them had a beautiful, sparkly, yellow ribbon tied around it. He really thought it was gorgeous, since it was reminding him of the Adventure Line™.

Stanley smiled wide and chuckled lightly. He lifted the vase in his hands slightly. He couldn’t sign with his hands full after all. It took the Narrator a moment to understand, but he chuckled as well once he noticed.

“Oh right. I’ll wait for an answer then for when we get home.” The Narrator looked at the bouquet that Stanley held in his hands. “Those really are very beautiful too. I really hope your friends enjoy them.” The Narrator wore a gentle smile on his face, and they eventually arrived back home.

The Narrator having less in his hands caused him to be the assigned as the one to get the door. He got the keys from Stanley’s pocket, unlocked the door, and opened it for the both of them. He held the door open as Stanley walked in and set the vase down on the kitchen counter. The Narrator shut, locked the door behind him, and carried the small bouquet to the kitchen.

[They’re for you!] Stanley excitedly signed once the Narrator walked into the kitchen. The Narrator froze in his tracks and stared confused at the man in front of him.

“What.? They’re for.. Me?” 

[Yeah! I got them for you.] Stanley beamed as he looked at the Narrator. The flowers were absolutely perfect for him, he thought. He was the one who requested more plants in the house anyway.

“Oh, Stanley thank you so much. That is really nice of you.” The Narrator looked down at the beautiful assortment of flowers in his hands. He considered where to put them before he placed them on the windowsill in the kitchen. “I think they look lovely there, don’t you?” Stanley nodded in agreement and grinned wide. He placed a gentle kiss on the Narrator’s head and leaned onto him for a moment as they stared at the assortment.

After a while, Stanley decided to get changed into something a little bit nicer before Wren came to pick the both of them up for the dinner. The Narrator looked really nice in his suit, and it made Stanley seem a bit underdressed. He dug through his closet to find anything nice, and eventually found a navy suit. With a smile, he put it on.

The suit was definitely fitted which caused Stanley to feel really spiffy with it on. He had never dressed up like this before, but he definitely didn’t mind it. It took him a couple of tries, but he also put on a dark blue striped tie. Stanley felt so fancy. A wide grin stretched across his face as he walked to the bathroom to check himself out in full. 

Oh, wow. He really looked good. Stanley buttoned the suit jacket and smoothed it out slightly. Of course, the massive white bandage on his head slightly messed up the perfect appearance, but he believed the little yellow flower made up for it! He fixed his hair up slightly and happily walked downstairs, excited to see the Narrator’s reaction.

The Narrator sat on the couch again as he worked on his story. He heard Stanley coming down, but he still had a sentence to finish up first. His attempt was interrupted as Stanley walked in front of him and pushed his journal down a bit.

“Stanley! I needed to fi-..” The Narrator looked up at Stanley and the words caught in his throat. He quickly tried to swallow down the sentence and spoke again. “Wow. Stanley.. You look really good.” The Narrator smiled a bit shyly as he looked Stanley up and down.

[You think so?] Stanley grinned wider and pulled away, giving the Narrator a little spin to show the suit off. He really felt amazing in the suit, and he was glad that the other man liked it too.

“Oh absolutely. I didn’t know you would even wear a suit like this!” The Narrator smiled wider and gained some of his composure back. “You look very handsome all dressed up!” He shut his journal, leaving the unfinished sentence behind, and stood up. He approached Stanley and fixed his shirt collar a bit.

“You look so amazingly handsome, Stanley.” The Narrator beamed and Stanley couldn’t help but kiss each of his cheeks. He was so overjoyed that the worries of the dinner washed away so quickly.

But as quickly as they left, they returned with a knock on the door and a familiar voice.

“Stanley? Are you ready?” Wren gently knocked on the door and called out. Part of Wren honestly wondered if Stanley would even answer the door or would run away. He had done it a lot, so why would he not do it now.

The Narrator froze upon hearing the voice and the knocking. Stanley froze up a bit as well, but he kissed the Narrator’s head before completely pulling away. Wren knocked again before Stanley could get there, but he soon opened it. Stanley smiled and waved gently.

“Stanley!! Hello, hello. Good to see you again.” Wren smiled and then looked Stanley up and down and looked at the flower in his hair. Compared to him, Wren was just in his work clothes. Now it was Wren’s turn to feel underdressed even though it was just a meeting between friends.

“You look really nice all dressed up again. I haven’t seen you in a suit in god knows how long.” Wren chuckled. The Narrator stayed in the living room and away from sight. “Are you all ready to go then, Stan?” Stanley nodded excitedly.

[I have to grab something quick.] He signed quickly before he turned and went to the kitchen to grab the bouquet again. While he was gone, Wren stepped inside a bit and looked at the Narrator. He immediately noticed he and Stanley had matching flowers. He smiled gently, but it wasn’t anything but a formality.

“I assume you are coming with us, are you Narrator? You are all dressed up too.” Wren watched the Narrator carefully as he fidgeted with his hands and stared at his feet for a moment.

“I.. If that is alright, I would love to.” The nerves sunk into the Narrator chest and weighed him down. This couldn’t be a good idea. Maybe he could back out of it somehow. He just had to think of a good excuse. Stanley did tell him that he needed him there though. He needed to be there for Stanley, didn’t he? Before he could attempt to sound more confident, Stanley came back with the vase as well as his house keys.

“Oh Stanley! Those are absolutely gorgeous! Did you get those for everyone?” Stanley excitedly nodded in response. He would love to sign, but his hands were full of course. “Now are you ready then?” Wren asked again, and he received a nod in response. While he did nod, Stanley also looked at the Narrator and grinned encouragingly.

The Narrator hesitated but finally approached the pair by the door. Stanley was already smiling at him, but Wren gently smiled as well. Once they were finally all together, they left and started on the journey to Harris’s house.

As they walked, the Narrator ended up responsible for the vase since Stanley needed to sign. Wren and Stanley talked a little back and forth, but Stanley made sure to include the Narrator in everything he could. He absolutely wanted to make sure that he didn’t feel left behind at any point in the dinner, even if they were just walking there for now.

Even if he didn’t say it, the Narrator absolutely appreciated it. Even if he was stuck walking slightly behind the two, he still felt included. They all conversed lightly for a while until they finally arrived at Harris’s house.

The house seemed rather welcoming from the outside. It was on the slightly larger side, definitely larger than Stanley and the Narrator’s house, and had a nice flowerbed out front. The Narrator looked at the house and tried to take everything in. Okay.. A new house and new people. Three new people. Stanley was there. Stanley would help him.

Wren knocked on the door, and it opened before he could even get a second knock in.

“STANLEY!” A female voice excitedly shouted out and immediately wrapped her arms around Stanley. The poor man jolted originally and looked down at her for a moment. Green hair with a stockier build..

Mia. This was Mia. After just a moment, Stanley hugged her back tightly and a wide smile spread across his face. He started to notice his vision get blurry with oncoming tears, but he tried to blink them away for now.

“Holy shit. Oh my god, it’s really him!! You son of a bitch Stan! Get over here!!” Another person stepped out of the door and the green-haired one let go of Stanley to make way for the new person. She had long, raven colored hair and honestly was just about Stanley’s height or even taller than him. She hugged Stanley tightly, much tighter than Mia had. A wide smile stayed on his face.

Aubrey.. Alright. This one was Aubrey. Stanley recognized her from the pictures and he knew that left one person. Harris. The owner of the house. If Stanley remembered correctly, he had glasses and orange curly hair.

Just as he expected, someone fitting the description came out of the house too. Aubrey stepped away and Harris hugged Stanley tightly. He was just a little shorter than Stanley was. Before long, Stanley noticed that the man was shaking as he hugged him. He was.. Crying.

“Oh my god.. Stanley. You’re alive. You’re really alive. Thank god..” Harris hugged onto Stanley like he would disappear if he didn’t hold him immediately. Stanley wasted no time in hugging him tightly and gently rubbing his back like the Narrator had done to him so many times. Now the tears finally broke from his eyes and he started to cry. Aubrey, Mia, and Wren were all smiling wide and there were definitely some tears shed by them too.

Harris finally composed himself after a moment and pulled away from Stanley. He wiped his eyes under his glasses and sniffed.

“I knew you were coming back! I knew it! I told everything, and they didn’t believe me but here you are! Stanley, please. Come inside!! It’s starting to get dark out, it’s much nicer inside. Plus dinner is almost ready!” Harris wiped his eyes again with a wide grin on his face and walked inside. Aubrey, Mia, and Wren trailed in after him after they all smiled at Stanley. Even though everyone went in, Stanley stayed behind.

[Are you coming?] He looked back at the Narrator and quickly wiped his own eyes. The Narrator stood still a bit behind him. He gripped the vase tightly in his hands as they shook rather harshly. He already felt like he didn’t belong here. The Narrator was so far out of place. They wanted Stanley, not him.

But Stanley wanted him.

“I.. I- Yes. I’ll come in.” The Narrator attempted to swallow his worries and nodded. The pit was already back in his chest, and it was deeper than ever. He felt like he would fall in it himself pretty soon. He had no idea who any of these people were nor did they know him.

[I’m sure they’ll all introduce themselves soon enough. They are just excited.] Stanley smiled encouragingly at the Narrator and offered a hand to him. After a moment, the Narrator took it and Stanley kissed his hand gently. The kiss told him it would be okay. Stanley waited for the Narrator to smile gently before the pair walked inside the house.

Wren, Aubrey, Harris, and Mia all stood in the kitchen as they talked happily. The room was full of a sense of joy that made Stanley smile wider once they entered. He kept his hand in the Narrator’s as he brought him into the kitchen as well. The others brought their conversation to an end once they entered. Stanley gestured lightly to the Narrator and smiled encouragingly at him. It took him a moment to compose himself before he held the flower vase out.

“We.. Um… We brought these for you.” The Narrator’s hands trembled so badly as he held the vase that he feared he would drop it. His voice shook, and he didn’t dare to look a single person in the eyes. Stanley still smiled at him and then smiled at his friends.

A slow, small smile crept onto their faces, well all of their faces except for Wren’s. Harris carefully grabbed the vase before it inevitably did fall out of the Narrator’s hands.

“Thank you so much! That is so sweet of you two.” Harris smiled and brought it over to the table, setting it as a centerpiece. As he was doing that, Aubrey looked at the Narrator and smiled a bit more.

“So you are Stanley’s new friend we’ve heard about. What’s your name?” Aubrey could tell he would frighten easily based on his previous shaking, so she spoke as gently as possible. She took a sip from her glass, it being some sort of brightly colored alcoholic drink. The Narrator looked up just for a moment to make sure she was addressing him. Once he looked up, Aubrey smiled sweetly.

“Ah yes.. My name..” The Narrator hesitated. He immediately remembered how Wren acted when he first introduced himself. He couldn’t possibly say what his name was, they would all make fun of him. Stanley gently nudged him to get his attention.

[It’ll be okay. Just be yourself, Narry.] Stanley smiled gently, and the Narrator smiled a bit in response. Everything would be okay. Stanley was there for him. Harris returned to the kitchen by the time he had the bravery to finally speak to them.

“I um.. I’m the Narrator.” He looked at Stanley’s friends, but he still couldn’t hold the eye contact for longer than a few moments. With the short time he looked at them, they all smiled gently, albeit a bit awkwardly. Mia was the first to speak up, thankfully breaking the awkward silence.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Mia.” She smiled at him when he glanced up briefly, causing him to smile just a little bit more.

“I’m Aubrey.” Aubrey spoke next, her being the next person in line. Her smile shifted into something more natural as she took another sip of her drink. She glanced at Wren with a questioning glance and he shrugged. The Narrator didn’t catch it, but Stanley certainly did.

“And I’m Harris. And I know you know Wren already too.” Harris beamed and adjusted the glasses on his face. A small smile gently spread across the Narrator’s face as he looked between them all. Maybe this would go well after all.

Stanley and his friends talked a bit, it was mostly small talk, but his friends kept glancing at his head wrap or the Narrator. After a bit more of conversation mostly between Stanley and his friends, dinner was finally ready. Everyone moved to the table and the Narrator sat next to Stanley. He moved his chair slightly closer to him and stared at the plate. Harris said it was something called a “panini”? The Narrator had never heard of it, but he wouldn’t be eating anyway. Before long, everyone started to dig in, but he was left alone just staring at it.

“Are you not hungry, Narrator?” Mia noticed he hadn’t touched his food and shot him a questioning glance. The Narrator’s heart sunk. Was he being rude to not eat? He hadn’t thought about that. He started to fidget with his hands in his lap.

“Well.. You see…” He took a deep breath, and Stanley rested his hand on the Narrator’s knee to calm him down. “I don’t really need to eat..” That comment definitely caused him to receive several confused looks. They glanced at Wren a few times before looking at the Narrator and Stanley.

“You don’t need to eat? Are you sure?” Harris looked at Stanley, one of his eyebrows cocked slightly upwards. Everyone looked absolutely confused, but was justified in being so.

“Oh no, no.. I don’t need to eat. My body doesn’t need it to function like you humans do. Stanley sometimes has me eat little samples of stuff we make, but that’s all I consume. That and tea of course.” The Narrator tried to flash a kind smile to everyone, but it faded when they looked back at him with only confusion. He felt himself nearing the edge of the pit in his chest. He would fall in any moment now.

The room fell to silence. Very awkward silence as a matter of fact. Everyone slowly just returned to eating to try and do something other than stay in absolute silence. After far too long of no one saying anything, Harris spoke up.

“So.. Stanley! What have you been up to since you’ve been back?” Harris smiled gently at Stanley. His eyes shifted to look at the wrap on his head, but he quickly focused on Stanley’s eyes. Stanley noticed, but he didn’t want to bring it up. The way Harris did ask though made Stanley wonder if Wren told the others not to ask about what happened when he was gone. In all honesty, he would be fine if that was the case.

[I’ve been doing a lot! The Narrator and I have been.] Stanley smiled as he continued to sign as he recollected all the good times they had together. He obviously avoided the topic of his attempted reset, but he told a lot else. With the conversation gaining more traction and strength, the others started to pitch in as well.

The Narrator watched as everyone happily conversed in front of him. He sat close to Stanley, but he never felt so alone. He fidgeted with his hands as his eyes darted from person to person. Aubrey excitedly caught Stanley up about a new painting she started, and Harris interjected with how good it was looking. Mia pleasantly smiled and eventually commented on how her garden inspired the painting. Wren silently watched the Narrator.

In his glancing, the Narrator accidentally caught Wren’s gaze. He tensed and quickly looked back at his lap. He wanted to just curl into a ball and disappear. Everyone was talking so happily, well almost everyone, but the Narrator was left again to be the odd one out. He glanced at Stanley, who adorned a massive, goofy grin as he moved his hands quickly with signs to talk to everyone.

Wren started to speak with everyone as well after a moment. The Narrator, a man who could normally never shut up, was completely silent. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why would he think this would work in his favor? He should’ve never agreed to come.

“Hey, Narrator.” Harris spoke gently with a grin as he looked at him from across the table. “Stanley said you write, is that true?” The Narrator looked up and met his gaze, but he couldn’t hold eye contact for more than a few seconds. In his brief look, he noticed the welcoming warm smile on his face.

“I.. I do write. That is correct.” The Narrator spoke cautiously. He still didn’t know how they would react to him at all, especially not after his previous comment. Thankfully, he wasn’t met with silence like last time.

“You do?! That’s fun! I write a lot too!” Aubrey spoke up excitedly and looked at the Narrator. The awkwardness around the Narrator started to fade away really quickly as the excitement of the room met with him too. “What kind of stuff do you write, Narrator?” The Narrator started to smile.

“It really depends! I like to write a lot of stories. Right now I am working on a story with Stanley’s help. It’s a love story.” The Narrator smiled at the thought. “I used to mainly write stories about Stanl-” He quickly went silent once he noticed Wren slightly glaring at him. The Narrator talking about that caused everything to go downhill before, so he decided it would be best to shut up.

“I-.. Never mind.” Everyone looked at the Narrator with a bit of confusion for a moment, but Aubrey didn’t want the awkward silence to come back.

“I would love to read some stuff you write one of these times,” she grinned, “As long as you read some of mine too!” She smiled sweetly at the Narrator, and he gently smiled back. Stanley let out a small sigh of relief. At least they didn’t get stuck there again.

Aubrey started to ask the Narrator more about his stories and what he wrote about. It really helped to lift him out of the slump and got him talking with not only her, but some of the others as well. He excitedly rambled on about his stories while also making sure nothing he said was Parable related. It was only a matter of time before he said something out of line.

And it didn’t take that long at all.

“So.. How did you two meet? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around town at all. You really are such a cute couple though!” Mia smiled wide and crossed her arms on the table as she asked. She saw all the cute glances they exchanged, the matching flowers, and all of it. They had to be dating.

[We aren’t a couple.] Stanley quickly signed. Mia, Aubrey, and Harris looked at him confused. It seemed clear as day that they were. Wren just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He mouthed ‘here we go.’ Stanley caught it, and glared at him slightly.

“Couple? I wouldn’t say we’re dating. We’re close, but not dating.” The Narrator didn’t catch their confused expressions. It made enough sense to him and Stanley after all. He quickly moved on. “But how we met! We met in the Parable! It’s this mind control facility that was disguised as an office building with Stanley as a worker. We both were stuck in there, but we only had one another so we eventually bonded! I even made this form so I could easily talk to Stanley and be close to him as well.

“We had some ups and downs, but everything became calmer once we really bonded. Of course, there were some endings that still really got to us both, but we made it through!” Stanley tensed as the Narrator started to ramble. The others exchanged glances with one another and Wren sighed. The Narrator was too distracted to notice when Wren gestured at him to almost prove a point neither Stanley nor the Narrator knew he was referring to. Stanley raised an eyebrow.

“Just imagine being alone for that long. Both Stanley and I were. It was years I was alone and years he was just sitting there. I can’t imagine what it was like for him..” The Narrator continued on for a moment before he looked up finally to address his audience. Everyone was staring at him with confused and lost expressions.

Oh.  

He said too much. He definitely spoke too much. The Narrator tensed, and he finally fell into the pit in his chest. Why did he speak so damn much? All he did was speak about stuff no one cared about and revealed stuff he told himself he wouldn’t. He ruined it for both Stanley and himself. He could never be friends or even converse with these people again.

“Exactly what I said.” Wren crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, his point indeed proven. Mia, Aubrey, and Harris looked at the Narrator and Stanley. The awkward silence crept back into the room. The Narrator wanted to curl up again and disappear forever. Why the hell did he speak so much?

The room was silent for a minute before Aubrey broke the silence once again.

“I’m sorry.. I am just very confused. Mind control facility? Endings? Years passed?” Aubrey spoke up. “I don’t want to be rude, but I don’t understand.. What happened when you were gone for a week?” Mia looked at her with a pleading look. They agreed they wouldn’t bring it up.

[It’s… very confusing. It is hard to try and explain it.] Stanley hesitated but slowly signed. [You just have to believe us, even if it doesn’t make sense.]

The Narrator was back where he was a few days ago. He was sitting at a table with people he didn’t know after he caused a massive issue with tears in his eyes. The Narrator just had to keep talking and make everything worse. Again. He had to get too excited about something so stupid and ruin everything. It didn’t take long for him to feel the tears running down his cheeks. Oh, was he pathetic… 

Stanley tried to sign more to his friends at the table to explain something, to pick up the pieces the Narrator left, but his hands froze once he saw the state the Narrator was in. He feared this would happen. He feared this all would happen again like it had with Wren and everything was following his thoughts exactly. Stanley panicked and gently moved his hand to the Narrator’s knee. Once he got his attention, he signed.

[We can go somewhere else for a minute. We can get a break.] Stanley didn’t even need to finish before the Narrator nodded desperately. Stanley gently stood up and helped the Narrator stand too.

“There’s a little living room down the hall.” Harris spoke up immediately after the two stood up. He pointed as well to help them out. “It’s on the left.” Stanley mouthed a thank you before he led the Narrator down the hall, and they disappeared into the room.

The room was silent since the two left, but Wren finally broke the silence this time.

“Well, what did I tell you?” Wren kept his arms crossed. Everyone was more than confused with everything that just happened, but they just looked at him.

“I mean.. It does seem impossible, but we don’t know the full story!” Mia quickly added on. “Either way, Stanley is our friend! If something happened and he.. Lost his mind a little, we still need to be there to support him.” Mia glanced at everyone and they nodded in agreement.

“I don’t think anything differently! I think if he lost his mind, we need to support him more.” Wren quickly put his hands up as he defended himself. “I just have a feeling that that “Narrator” fellow is only making it worse.”

“He and Stanley seem to really care about each other though. He doesn’t seem like he would hurt a fly.” Harris quickly added on. Of course, they only just met the man, but he seemed like he was the most anxious person they all had ever met. Wren nodded.

“They do, I am not denying that either. It just doesn’t make a lot of sense that this really happened. Stanley and the Narrator kept telling me about how they were in there for years and Stanley said he kept dying and coming back. That wrap on his head? It's because he tried to kill himself by slamming his head into a wall just so he could “reset” back to the “Parable.” The Narrator stopped him, but I can’t help but think they both are perpetuating their own and each other’s delusions.

“They both talk about it like it happened, but it couldn’t be possible. There’s no way it makes sense. He was gone for a week, lost all of his memories, and came back with a stranger who went through everything he did. It doesn’t add up. The Narrator has to be behind something..” Wren looked at them as he spoke. Harris looked horrified at the new information about the attempted suicide and Aubrey looked even more confused. Mia silently tried to process everything.

The room fell into silence again as they all thought about the new information Wren told them.

“I don’t think we should try to save him or anything until we get the full story.” Aubrey spoke up after a minute of silence. “You might know the story, but I want to hear it too.” Harris and Mia nodded along to the sentiment. 

“He seems like a nice guy. Maybe he’s as lost as Stanley is. Maybe he’s a little strange and says he’s not human, but they care about one another a lot. Whether it was a week or longer for them, they only had each other. We have to respect that.” Mia added on.

“Well sure, he seems nice, but that doesn’t make everything possible. It doesn’t explain how everything happened. Even if for a little bit, I think it would be best to separate them. Their closeness doesn’t seem that healthy anyway.” Wren continued to defend his stance. He wanted the best for Stanley, and he believed this was how it had to happen.

“Maybe if Stanley is away from him a bit, we can remind him of his memories in a healthier environment too. He really doesn’t remember us at all, so the time we spend together can hopefully jog his memory.” Wren smiled gently. He so badly wanted Stanley to gain his memory back.

Stanley sat down with the Narrator on the couch in the living room. The Narrator now was full out sobbing, and he gripped onto Stanley’s shirt to cried into it.

“I screwed it all up again.. I ruined all of it.. I just can never stop talking, can I?” The Narrator whimpered as he spoke. Stanley frowned and pulled him into a proper hug. He couldn’t sign right now, so he just held him close.

“All I do is I mess everything up. Why do you even keep me around anymore, Stanley..? I don’t understand. I’m such a burden.. I ruined it with Wren, and now I ruined it with everyone else.” Stanley frowned harder and tightened his hug, kissing the Narrator’s head gently.

‘You didn’t ruin anything. They would know it all at some point anyway. You will never be a burden.’ Is all that Stanley wanted to say. He wanted to reassure him so badly. He wanted to tell him everything would be okay. He wanted to tell him how badly he needed him. Stanley hated not being able to say a thing.

The Narrator opened his mouth to continue, but Stanley wouldn’t let him. He hugged him tighter and soon enough he pulled him into another genuine kiss. It was rare for them to actually kiss on the lips, but it felt important. Stanley needed to show the Narrator how much he meant to him. The Narrator initially was surprised from the kiss, but he calmed down and relaxed into it soon enough. Stanley pulled away after a moment, leaned his forehead against the Narrator’s and signed.

[I need you here with me. I always will. You didn’t ruin anything. You are not a burden. You never will be.] Stanley signed carefully and slowly, meaning every single word he signed. The Narrator nodded gently once he finished. Using his thumb, Stanley wiped away the Narrator’s tears.

[I can explain it to them. It is not your fault at all. They would need to know it at some point anyway.] Stanley smiled gently and fixed the flower in the Narrator’s hair. He kissed each of the Narrator’s cheeks and caused him to smile.

[There’s that smile.] Stanley signed again and finally pulled a bit further from the Narrator to let him fix himself up. The Narrator chuckled to himself.

“Alright.. Alright. I’m sorry for getting all emotional again..” The Narrator lifted his glasses slightly to rub his eyes free from all his tears. Stanley placed a gentle kiss on his cheek again to reassure him it was fine. Everything was going to be okay.

The pair stayed together on the couch for a moment as Stanley helped the Narrator to calm down further. Stanley knew that he would need to return to everyone at some point, but he needed to make sure that the Narrator was okay first. His friends were important to him of course, but the Narrator was his first priority.

Before Stanley could sign anything, there was a gentle knock on the wall beside the living room doorway. The Narrator and Stanley looked over to see Harris… and his seal colorpoint ragdoll cat.

“Hey.. I hope I am not interrupting anything. I um..” He took a step into the room. “I wanted to bring Matilda to you. She always helps to calm me down, so I wanted to let you see her in case she would help you too.” Harris smiled and brought her over to the couch.

The Narrator’s eyes widened with curiosity as he looked at the cat. He hesitantly reached out and pet the cat once Harris put her down on the couch. He had never seen an animal like this beside those he had seen in those videos online.

“She’s really nice. She is such a big softie who loves cuddles.” Harris smiled wider and gently pet down her back. The Narrator did the same soon after. Stanley looked at Harris and quickly signed a small [thank you]. Harris smiled and nodded in response.

The Narrator immediately fell in love with the cat. She was so soft and just so utterly adorable. He normally would put up more of a fuss with his clothes getting dirty, but he didn’t say a single thing as Matilda crawled into his lap and laid down. A huge smile grew on his face as he looked at her and excitedly showed Stanley and Harris. Both of them smiled wide at his excitement as he went back to petting the cat. The Narrator’s leftover worries faded away as he gently stroked the cat’s fur.

“Stanley..” Harris whispered slightly, not wanting to interrupt this amazing moment. “The others want to talk to you privately. If you are up for it that is.” Stanley looked at him, glanced at the Narrator, but returned his gaze to Harris with a nod.

[I’ll be out in a moment. Thank you again for the cat.] Stanley smiled and Harris patted his shoulder before exiting the room. He kept the smile on his face as he looked back at the Narrator. The Narrator was beaming as he gently stroked the cat’s fur and cooed gently at it. He looked at the small cat with so much love and care. Stanley quickly tapped the Narrator’s shoulder to grab his attention.

[Are you okay if I leave you with the cat for a little? They want to talk with me alone.] Stanley smiled gently. [I will be right in the dining room if you need me, I promise. I am not leaving you here.] The Narrator watched as he signed, but took a moment to nod.

“I should be okay.. I’ll have her with me so I think she’ll help me like Harris said.” The Narrator looked back at Matilda in his lap. “I’ll come get you if I need to. Or you can come here.” He smiled at Stanley.

Stanley couldn’t help but smile back at him. He stood up, kissed his forehead gently, and left the room to return to his friends.

The air felt thick with awkwardness and tension when Stanley sat back down in his chair. He looked at the flower bouquet in the middle of the table before glancing at the mostly untouched food on everyone’s plates. He finally learned that talking over food was never a good idea.

“So..” Aubrey coughed awkwardly as she brought her drink back up to her lips. She didn’t want to speak all her thoughts, but she broke the silence for someone else to speak. Mia picked up the opportunity before it got too quiet again.

“We talked about some stuff, and we really want to know what happened while you were gone. I know you didn’t really want us to ask… but we really are worried about you.” Mia fidgeted with her fork as she spoke. “We know it’ll be confusing, and maybe we won’t understand, but we promise we won’t judge you!” She spoke gently, and her entire demeanor soaked in worry and care.

Stanley looked between everyone, and his eyes eventually settled on Wren.

[You told them, didn’t you?] Stanley kept his eyes on Wren and the tension grew in the room. He almost felt the air grow thicker.

“I told them only a little. I wanted you to be able to talk about stuff too, but I just gave context to what the Narrator said.” Wren responded somewhat truthfully. He added a little bit more of his personal opinion than that, but he wouldn’t admit it. At least not now. Stanley glared slightly at him and looked back at everyone else to hear what they had to say.

“We all want to know the full story, we really do. We want to know everything you told Wren before we make our opinions on stuff.” Harris added on calmly. “Like Mia said, we won’t judge you at all. We won’t get it, at least based off of what the Narrator said, but we will try our hardest to understand.” Harris smiled gently at Stanley, trying to be comforting as well as encourage him to explain.

“We want to know the truth, Stan. The truth this time.” Wren pushed a bit further. He still really didn’t believe it was true. Stanley shot Wren another glare.

[It IS the truth. Everything I told you was true.] Stanley’s frustration with Wren was growing. He understood well that the Parable was confusing and nearly unbelievable, but it was the truth. He had no way to prove it, but why would he lie about something like this? 

“Oh please, Stanley. None of it makes any sense, it just sounds like a cover-up story for something else. I don’t know what you’re attempting to hide, but it doesn’t sound even slightly believable. Do you hear yourself?” Wren started to raise his tone a little as his own frustration was growing. Mia immediately watched as they both grew a bit defensive.

Unknown to Stanley, he and Wren used to be best friends from the time when they were only five years old. They bickered and argued like brothers all the time, but this seemed worse than usual. Essentially, Wren’s brother completely forgot about him. Someone he spent decades with had no idea who he was, but of course Stanley wouldn’t know this.

“Both of you should calm down.. This won’t end well.” Mia piped up again, but she didn’t speak as loud as Wren had.

[How can I show you it’s the truth?! Do you want me to show you where the Narrator and I came from?! We visited the door before! I can show you!] Stanley signed rapidly as he glared at Wren. He ignored Mia, and unfortunately, Wren ignored her as well.

“Stanley! Do you not understand!? We are so worried about you! We have been! I know everything you told me was a fucking lie! Some door won’t prove anything! Do you really think we would believe that insane story?!” Wren stood up as he shouted. Stanley flinched at the extreme tone change and the move to stand, but he still glared. The others at the table flinched as well and looked between Wren and Stanley. He shouted so loud that the Narrator heard the commotion from the next room over, causing his panic to return more than what Matilda could help him with.

“Wren!! Stop this! Leave him alone. He’s been through enough.” Mia spoke up and put a hand on Wren’s arm to calm him down. “This is the first time we are all together, we just wanted a nice time!” Her attempts were immediately ignored.

“NO! I am sick of this bullshit!! I am done with the lies and constantly dancing around the truth! Stanley, tell the truth for god’s sake! At this point, I don’t care if you just wanted to ghost us or leave us behind!! I just want the truth for once!” Wren slammed his hand down on the table, causing Stanley to flinch again. 

[IT IS THE TRUTH!] Stanley signed as he stood up too to try and match him. His silent signing wouldn’t even come close to Wren’s screaming, but he had to try. [Why don’t you believe me!?]

“GOD! This is useless isn’t it?! You’re too far in your own delusions! Do you even hear yourself?! Did “the Narrator” make you believe this bullshit?! I bet he did! We were just talking about taking you away from him!! Maybe then you would be normal!” Wren shouted at Stanley. Stanley immediately caught the mention of the Narrator.

They wanted to separate them. That was the goal behind this whole thing. Stanley glared intensely at Wren and signed sternly.

[We’re leaving.]

“Stanley no, no, no! Please don’t leave. We just want to talk to you!” Harris quickly added on and stood up. “We can calm down from this! Both of you just need to relax.”

“I will relax when Stanley decides to tell the truth!! I want him to tell us what happened and explain how he lost all of his memories about all of us! We are your best friends Stanley, but you completely forgot about us!” Wren was getting more frustrated, his own concerns with the memory issues starting to become more front.

[I said we’re leaving! Now stop fucking yelling! I know you are scaring the Narrator!] Stanley glared at Wren and moved to walk toward the living room.

“You’re just going to keep running away, aren’t you!? You just can’t face the reality in front of you! You’ll just run away to your silly little “Narrator” to protect your delusions.” Wren still shouted at him as he walked. His words caused Stanley to stop.

“Wren, cut this out! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Aubrey yelled back at him, glaring him down.

“This isn’t like you! Just calm down! He didn’t forget this on purpose!!” Harris didn’t yell as much, but he spoke up a little to be heard.

Stanley turned back around to face Wren and glared at him. [Shut up.]

“What?! You still can’t face the truth! All of us see it except you.”

[Shut the fuck up.]

“Why? To protect you in your own delusions and false reality? To protect your “Parable”? You’ve lost your mind Stanley! You have completely lost i-”

Wren couldn’t finish his statement as Stanley quickly closed the gap between them and punched him hard upwards in the jaw. He had a height disadvantage, so he caught him by surprise. Stanley needed to find a way for him to shut up. BAD .

“WOAH! Stanley!” Audrey immediately ran over and pulled Stanley from Wren. Since she was his height, she was the best person for the job. Even as she pulled him away, he kicked and struggled to get back at Wren. Wren rubbed his jaw and glared at Stanley.

“No. Let him go. If he wants to fight, we can fight.” Wren tasted a tinge of blood in his mouth, him biting his tongue in the process of the punch. Wren had a big advantage over him, but they had fights like this before. Even with his advantage, Stanley beat him up a few times. Not that Stanley remembered that.

“Wren, Jesus Christ, think for one goddamn moment!” Harris walked between the two and glared at him. “This is unbelievable! Stanley has been going through what sounds like hell, and this is what you do?! He has no clue where he is or who we are, and you do this!? Unbelievable Wren! I thought you were better than this!” It was rare for Harris to raise his voice like this to scold him, and Wren shrunk away slightly. Harris sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

“Stanley.. You go get the Narrator and you guys can go home. We’ll try to figure this out for you. Please send up a message or give us a call if you need us, okay?” Harris smiled weakly at Stanley and Aubrey let him go. Stanley stared at Wren for another moment before turning back around. Mia frowned at Wren, clicked her tongue, and looked at Stanley.

“I’m really sorry.. I didn’t want this to happen. I hope the Narrator is alright.” She spoke gently and smiled weakly at him. Stanley gently returned a smile and walked to the living room.

The Narrator urgently pet Matilda and listened to her purring. The yelling calmed down at least, so that was good. Soon enough, Stanley entered the room as well. The Narrator looked up at him. 

“Oh Stanley..” The Narrator immediately noticed the tears that formed in Stanley’s eyes. Stanley didn’t respond at all and looked away. He instead just put his hand out for the Narrator to take so they could go home. The older man frowned but carefully removed the cat from his lap before standing up. The Narrator kissed Stanley’s cheeks gently and whispered some reassurances to him.

After a moment, the two left the living room, gave everyone (excluding Wren, who had disappeared) hugs, and left to go back home. They barely made it a few steps outside the house before Stanley broke into sobs, but he insisted on continuing home with his hand in the Narrator’s.

Chapter Text

Stanley curled up in tears on the couch. He sobbed the entire way home, and additionally couldn’t stop once he got there. The Narrator sat next to him with his arms wrapped tightly around him. 

“You’ll be alright, Stanley.. You’ll be okay, everything will be.” The Narrator cooed as he held onto Stanley. “We won’t let them separate us..” Stanley hid his face in the Narrator. He couldn’t let his friends take them away from one another. It would be their worst nightmare.

He thought he could trust these people. Stanley really thought he could, but he was terribly wrong. The only people he had in this new life wanted to take him away from someone he needed. He so badly hoped everything would go well, but here he was, sobbing in the Narrator’s arms. Stanley realized he often ended up here.

“We.. We can figure things out on our own.. We don’t need them..” The Narrator tried to be reassuring, but he wasn’t that sure of his words himself. He didn’t want to be around people who wanted them to be apart, but they were all Stanley had. 

Beside the Narrator that is. Stanley knew he would always have the Narrator, that was a given. But his other friends were rather important too. They were all Stanley had to connect him to the real world, even if they said a few rude things.

Stanley hesitated, but he shook his head. He knew as well as the Narrator that they would need Aubrey, Mia, Harris, and even Wren. They would help them navigate this world, and they could possibly help Stanley learn more about himself. Maybe they could help him get to the bottom of the Parable mystery. Or at least start to unravel it.

The Narrator was silent for a moment before he sighed.

“I know.. I know. We need them.. I just.. Wish they were kinder and understood a bit more. Especially Wren. I understand he is frustrated or upset, but that gives him no right to claim you are insane.” The Narrator was getting a bit heated himself, but he still hugged Stanley. Stanley nodded as he spoke. He agreed with the Narrator, but he had no other choice.

The pair stayed hugging for a while before Stanley slowly pulled away from the Narrator. He rubbed his eyes and sniffed. His eyes were red and still contained tears, but Stanley badly needed water. He barely ate any dinner or drank anything, so he was starting to feel lightheaded from the inordinate amount of tears.

“Are you alright, Stanley.?” The Narrator looked at him with concern, but he nodded gently in response.

[Need to eat. And drink something. Lightheaded,] was all Stanley could manage with his low energy before he walked to the kitchen. The Narrator got up and started to follow him, but he quickly grabbed the phone first. Maybe the music could help Stanley calm down too.

Once in the kitchen, Stanley grabbed some water and opened some cabinets to look for a snack. Anything would work, he just needed something. The Narrator figured that the downtime was a good time to search for music. He pulled the phone out, but he stopped. A message sat on the screen. Stanley noticed the Narrator’s slightly confused expression and looked at him questionably.

[What is it?] Stanley could barely finish the question before the Narrator turned the phone around to show him. His hands stilled immediately after the first glance at the message.

‘Wren: Hey Stanley. I’m going to be at the flower field for a little while. I want to talk to you, but I understand if you don’t want to come. I’ll be there for an hour in case.’

The kitchen fell into absolute silence for a moment. Stanley stared at the message before he finally pulled his eyes away to take a long sip of his water. Despite everything that happened, the thought folded over in his head. He didn’t even have to sign anything before the Narrator started to speak.

“Stanley.. You don’t have to do this.” The Narrator’s voice was gentle as he set the phone down, and headed to the stove. In the time as Stanley thought, the Narrator decided that tea was what he really needed right now. It was late, but he needed it after everything that just happened at the dinner. He filled the kettle and set it on the stove top. Stanley stared down at his phone and the most recent message.

Even if Stanley didn’t know him, he knew in his heart that Wren didn’t mean the words he had said. Stanley knew he should apologize to him as well. He punched him and caused him to bleed after all. It normally was never like Stanley to be this violent, not that he knew what he normally was like either.

“Stanley..” The Narrator could watch the thoughts run in Stanley’s head. “You don’t owe him an apology. You don’t have to go out of your way to meet with him to apologize. He said some.. Pretty nasty stuff about you.. About us.”

[I know. I know.] Stanley signed but stared at his phone for longer. He really wanted to. He wanted to hear him out so badly. If he regretted it, he could just leave. Maybe he could go just for a few minutes. He could hear what Wren had to say, but then just leave if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. The Narrator glanced at him, knowing he already made up his mind about his decision.

“Just.. Be careful, okay? Be careful and come home quickly..” The Narrator wanted to give Stanley the space he needed, the space away from him. He wondered if Wren was right. The Narrator was just a safety web for Stanley to always run and hide with. Maybe the Narrator wasn’t helping Stanley as much as he thought he was. Wren was right, he was probably just harming him.

“This house will be far too lonely with you gone.” The Narrator smiled, but it was somber and had a deep sadness. Stanley noticed it immediately and frowned.

[I won’t go if you don’t want me to. I don’t want to leave you alone.] Stanley rested a hand on the Narrator’s shoulder and smiled encouragingly at him. He kissed his cheek gently. [I’ll come back. I’ll be gone for a little, but I promise you that I will come back. I won’t leave you.] The Narrator nodded gently, blinking away potential tears from forming.

“You promise?” The Narrator leaned into Stanley’s touch a bit as Stanley pulled him into a hug. Stanley nodded and held him close for a moment before breaking away again. He felt his head pound and his vision blurred for a moment. He definitely needed something to eat before he left so he wouldn’t pass out.

The Narrator chatted lightly with Stanley as he prepared some food for himself. It was just some toast with peanut butter, but it was enough to keep his stomach full for now. The Narrator drank his tea slowly, constantly watching Stanley and taking in all of his features. He tried to memorize every last line on Stanley’s face like he had during some endings. He would be gone for mere minutes, but the Narrator didn’t want to take his chances.

Stanley easily could figure out what the Narrator was doing, so he instead spent the moments close to him. He took his time eating and drinking his water. He kept reassuring the older man that he wouldn’t be gone long. He promised him again and again. After all, how long could an apology take?

Stanley pulled his sneakers on and glanced at the Narrator again. [Are you sure it's alright if I go?] He signed and watched the Narrator fidget in front of him.

“Of course.. Of course, it is, Stanley. I shouldn’t hold you back from what you need to do.” The answer obviously was not good enough as a frown stretched on Stanley’s face.

[You aren’t holding me back. I really won’t take too long, I promise.] Stanley smiled and gently placed a kiss on the Narrator’s head. [I won’t leave you, I promise. It will just be gone for a little bit.] The Narrator nodded gently up at Stanley. 

Despite nodding, his worries still sat in the back of his head. Stanley was originally gone for a little during the skip button too, wasn’t he? Those minutes turned into hours and further into days. What if Wren used the time to try to convince Stanley to run away? What if he would convince Stanley to never go back to the Narrator again?

The worries crept into the Narrator’s head as he started to pick at his nails. He tried to stop himself, folding his hands together instead. Stanley frowned gently. The Narrator watched the concern grow on his face, and quickly tried to fix the situation.

“I’ll be alright, dear Stanley. I can get some additional writing done and wind down for the night.” The Narrator smiled gently, trying to be genuine enough, so Stanley could trust him.

But Stanley knew him better than that. The Narrator wouldn’t be completely fine alone. He didn’t want to leave him, but he knew he should speak to Wren in private. Stanley kissed the Narrator’s head again gently.

[I hope you get some good writing done, I’m excited to hear about it when I get home.] Stanley smiled sweetly at him. [You don’t have to wait for me to go to bed either. I’m sure you will though.] He chuckled gently, trying to lift the mood a bit. He knew the Narrator wouldn’t sleep without him there since he didn’t even need to sleep in the first place.

“Oh please,” the Narrator scoffed, “You know I won’t sleep at all. I’ll wait for you. I… want to make sure you get home.” Stanley smiled sweetly and nuzzled the Narrator for a moment before taking his hand and kissing it.

[Of course. Of course. I’ll be back shortly then, alright?] Stanley placed one lass kiss on his hand. [Everything will be just fine.] The Narrator nodded gently and smiled. He started to believe it more and more. Everything would work out and Stanley would come back. Stanley was rather convincing.

In addition, Stanley was making the decision. Stanley always made good decisions. The Narrator could trust his choices.

“I’ll see you later then. Please don’t punch Wren again.. And come back right away if anything goes wrong.” The Narrator smiled at Stanley, gently kissed his cheek, handed him his jacket, and watched as he left. Everything would go alright. Everything would go just fine.

Stanley held his jacket closer to himself as he walked along the dark path. There were some streetlights that lit up the sidewalk, and he looked around. No one else was out at this time, and he definitely didn’t expect them to be. He barely needed to focus on where he was going to head to the flower field where Wren was.

After a moment, Stanley soon saw the field and the outline of his friend. He walked next to Wren and stood there beside him. He set his hands on the fence. Wren glanced over at Stanley to acknowledge his arrival, but the pair fell silent.

Wren stared out at the stars in the sky in front of them. He felt his heart tremble in his chest as his throat tightened. Everything was silent except the chirping of crickets. A gentle breeze floated between the two men as they stood side by side.

Goddammit! He wanted to meet Stanley here to apologize, but now he couldn’t say a single thing. He gripped the fence in front of him and let his head drop. The broken wood of the fence splintered into his skin, but he couldn’t care. He saw Stanley’s hands move but hesitated to look. Wren took a deep breath and finally glanced over.

[I forgive you.] Stanley glanced to make sure Wren saw before he stared out at the stars again. The night was beautiful, but the moon kept its glare on him. The feeling had grown far too familiar to Stanley.

“I.. I don’t understand, Stanley. You shouldn’t forgive me.” Wren stared back out at the field in front of them. “I said so many horrible things about you and the Narrator. I wanted to separate you two, knowing full well what he means to you.”

[You were scared.] Stanley looked at Wren finally and smiled gently when Wren looked back at him. Stanley’s grin had a tinge of sadness that could not be ignored.

“We.. We won’t try to separate you. We really won’t. I shouldn’t have even said it.. I miss.. I missed you so much. I still do.” Wren gripped the fence a little harder and stared off at the field once he started to talk. He blinked away his tears. He wasn’t one to cry at all, but he certainly didn’t want to cry in front of Stanley.

The two men stayed together at the fence. The night was getting colder and a soft breeze ran between the flowers and grasses. The flowers in the field shone under the moonlight and swayed with the breeze. Silence filled the air for a few minutes. Crickets chirped gently, but soon Stanley needed to replace the quiet. He couldn’t stand it.

[What was I like?] Stanley signed as he continued to stare at the sky. [What was I like before?]

Wren stayed silent for a moment as he stared at Stanley. His words caught in his throat, so he was forced to take a deep breath. He draped his arms over the fence and stared out at the flowers. It took him a moment to gain the strength to speak.

“You were the kindest person I ever knew. You were selfless, funny, compassionate.. You did everything with so much love and always put everyone else in front of yourself. No matter what happened, you would help people. That seemed like your main goal of life… To help others.” Wren had to close his eyes to keep his tears at bay. After he spoke, he let out a pained chuckle.

“I say were, but you probably still are.” Wren finally opened his eyes again, but he still couldn’t bring himself to look at Stanley. “The fact you came out here to see me means you still are that person.

“I.. I truthfully don’t think you changed that much.” Wren rested his head down on his arms slightly, bending over more to do so. “You have just been dealing with so much lately.. Nothing here makes sense to you.. And I suppose I haven’t been helping with that..” Wren kept his gaze out on the darkness of the field. Tears welled in his eyes, but he wouldn’t let himself cry. He really couldn’t cry in front of Stanley. Especially when it was all his fault.

“I know you said you forgive me, but I’m sorry, Stanley, I really am. I am sorry I kept insisting you weren’t the same, or you lost your mind. I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick these past few days.. There is no way I can apologize to you enough. I know it’s selfish, but the whole memory loss thing is really getting to me.” Wren continued to stare out into the darkness, and fireflies started to flicker out in the field. “We were so close, Stan. So close, but.. You just forgot all of it.

“Don’t get me wrong! I don’t blame you for it! It just… Doesn’t lessen the blow, you know? It still hurts to see you and know in my heart that you don’t know me.” Wren frowned. “We did so much together. We spent so much time together..”

[What stuff did we do?] Stanley finally spoke up again. He had kept his hands still for a very long time, but he finally responded. He made sure to catch Wren’s attention first and only signed once he looked over. Stanley wore a kind smile on his face as he tried to connect the dots in his head with little success. His additional question caused Wren to smile and laugh lightly though, that was good, right?

“Oh we did so much.” Wren straightened himself up and stood properly with his hands just resting on the fence now. “A few days before you disappeared, we visited a plant nursery you love, and you bought a few more plants for inside.” Wren smiled gently as he thought about it.

“I’m sure you saw it in the scrapbook too, but we all went on so many trips and vacations together. Harris was the only one responsible enough to plan them, but we all would chip in.” Wren had to think for another moment. “I think you liked the lake the most. It was warm, not too hot, but you insisted on jumping into the water with all your clothes on every second you could.” Wren started to laugh, so Stanley decided to join in even if he didn’t know what they were laughing about.

“Aubrey spent so long on her eyeliner that day, but your joy was so contagious we just had to join you.” Wren smiled sweetly as his laughter calmed down. “That’s another thing about you. Your happiness and laughter were.. Are so contagious. We were soaking wet and gross the entire ride home, but we didn’t care. We were so happy.” Wren looked at Stanley finally with a wide grin on his face. Stanley returned the smile, but it was a poor mask of his sadness. Wren’s smile wavered slightly and looked back out at the field.

Somber silence situated between the two for a moment. It nuzzled into Stanley and burrowed into his heart. Thankfully, the silence was broken as Wren continued to speak.

“We threw a little party the weekend before you disappeared too. You just got a promotion at work. You were working so hard to get it, and you finally did. You damn well deserved it, Stan. Damn well.” Wren finally looked at Stanley and flashed a wide smile again. Stanley returned the smile even though the words had no meaning to him. Wren decided to dig a bit deeper. Maybe he could help Stanley remember.. Right?

“We knew each other when we were younger, too. You lived across the street from me, and we would always hang out. I swear there was never a day we weren’t together during the summer.” Stanley smiled gently. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember a thing. He could wish as hard as he wanted, but that wouldn’t bring his memories back. 

“Oh god.. I remember one time this kid kept picking on you. His name was.. Micheal, I think?” Wren waved his hand after a moment of thinking about it. ”That’s not too important. I remember he kept making fun of you because you couldn’t speak, and it was right after your brother passed away. Oh, he pissed me off so bad.” Wren chuckled, but Stanley’s smile shifted into a subtle frown full of confusion. Brother.?

“You told me over and over to not fight him, Stanley, but I couldn’t stand it.” Wren almost asked Stanley if he remembered it, but he knew Stanley wouldn’t. His heart tightened in his chest and continued with a sad-soaked chuckle. “I really underestimated the fight he had in him. He crushed me, but I returned the damage and a little more.

“I came home a complete bloody mess. I remember you were waiting on my porch, saw me, panicked, and then spent the next hour cleaning me up while scolding me.” Wren chuckled, this time a little more happily, but the tinge of sadness remained. “You were so mad at me, but you didn’t let me leave until every drop of blood was off my skin. I will never forget that day.”

While Wren chuckled to himself over the fond memories, Stanley stared out at the flowers again. After the mention of brother, Stanley zoned most of the story out. The parts he heard were sweet, but he had a brother? He had a brother that died.?

“Is something wrong, Stanley.?” Wren’s concerned voice interrupted his thoughts. He opened his mouth to ask further, but Stanley signed, not even looking at him.

[I had a brother?] He slowly adjusted his gaze and looked at Wren. Wren’s heart sunk deeper into his stomach as he looked at Stanley’s blank expression.

“Y.. You did. Yes” Wren glanced back at Stanley before he decided it was best to just tell him. He would need to know eventually, so there was no point at dancing around it. They had done enough of that. “His name was Lucas and was 4 years older than you. You.. Never had an easy time in life, but he was there to always pick you back up. You were 8 when he died. His death destroyed you…

“The anniversary of it was the week you disappeared so.. We all thought the worst had happened to you. That’s why we all were so worried.. It wasn’t like you to just disappear like that…” Wren’s tone completely shifted from what it was like before. He spoke more somberly and his words walked on eggshells. As and after he spoke, he watched Stanley carefully for his reaction. He didn’t want to totally break him.

Stanley listened to the words Wren said, and they stabbed into him. He watched as his vision blurred, and the flowers turned into shining blobs in the night. Apparently someone who meant so much to him wasn’t worth remembering. He thought the same thing with Wren and the others.. But this was his brother. 

For a moment, Stanley kept his hands up and ready to sign something else, but they trembled beyond saving. Before he could sign a single thing, he let out a guttural sob as he finally fell apart again. He couldn’t keep himself together anymore. The moon watched on.

“Stanley..” Wren put an arm around Stanley but quickly pulled him into a tight hug. His whole body shook as he sobbed and whimpered. Wren held him close and tried to comfort him as well as he could. Stanley couldn’t even hear him as he came completely undone.

Wren fruitlessly attempted to calm Stanley down, and Stanley continued to sob and shake hard in his grasp. First he forgot his friends, now he forgot his own brother. His own brother that apparently meant so much to him was gone with everything else.

What else was Stanley forgetting? Did he have other siblings? What about his parents? 

Did he even have parents? What was his life like before? Wren gave him some insight, but what about everything in between? Wren just supplied him with words, but he couldn’t make Stanley remember any of them.

“Stanley.. Get out of your thoughts. They’re making it worse.” Wren spoke up slightly and squeezed him a bit tighter for a moment to try to get Stanley aware of his surroundings. It was useless as Stanley gripped onto his shirt tighter.

He knew he forgot everything, but why was it hurting so much now? Every part of his life was nothing but a tale, a story. Everything Wren told him could have easily been a lie. He could have just been shaping Stanley up to be this wonderfully kind hero. He was creating a Stanley that he, and the others, wanted, not the one they had.

Could he even trust Wren? Stanley’s mind ran in circles. He wondered it at first, but eventually just believed what he said. If Wren couldn’t believe what Stanley himself said, why should Stanley believe him? Sure he had the scrapbook, but Wren could’ve made up the story about his promotion, about the lake, about his brother.

But.. Why would he? Wren didn’t seem like an evil person. He wouldn’t just trick Stanley like that. Unless he would. Stanley really didn’t know anything about him. Stanley knew nothing. He knew absolutely nothing.

Stanley couldn’t take it. He squeezed Wren tighter as he fell apart even further. He broke apart into sobs. He wanted to scream out, but his throat tightened on itself. Stanley felt the moon’s glare stabbing into him and all he wanted to do was hide.

Stanley was breathing heavily now. His heart pounded in his chest, and it became harder and harder to breathe. Stanley gripped tighter onto Wren’s shirt and his knuckles turned white in response. He ate earlier to prevent getting lightheaded, but here he was. His grip started to weaken as his vision became spotty.

“Stanley. Stanley! Hey, hey focus on me.” Wren pulled Stanley slightly away from himself and looked at him. “Breathe. Take a deep breath with me, okay?” 

Stanley looked at Wren frantically, his foggy pupils darting around before he just decided to shut his eyes. He was going to pass out soon, he was sure of it. Wren noticed it and quickly tried to keep Stanley in consciousness.

“Deep breaths, Stan.. In.. And out. That’s it. Just take slow breaths.” Wren spoke softly and kept his hands on Stanley’s shoulders to try to keep him stabilized. It took Stanley a moment before he listened to his instructions and breathed slowly and deeply. Wren breathed with him, and they stayed together like that for a moment.

“There we go.. It’s alright, Stanley.” He was breathing slower now, but he still felt lightheaded. Before Wren could comment further, Stanley leaned into him to find more stability. Wren took it as an opportunity to pull him into a hug once again. 

Stanley continued to take deep breaths as he leaned with limp arms into Wren. His previously overthinking mind had silenced into nothing. Another moment passed before he pulled away from Wren. He signed.

[How can I trust you.?] Stanley would never normally ask this, but he was desperate. [How can I trust you’re telling me the truth?]

The question hit Wren right in the heart. It struck him, squeezed his heart, and ripped it right out of him. He wondered if Stanley would question him about this, but he wasn’t ready for him to actually vocalize it. He took a deep breath.

“I.. I suppose I can’t really convince you.” Wren didn’t dare to take another step toward Stanley. He stayed where he was and looked at the man in front of him. Stanley looked absolutely shattered as he watched Wren for his response. He was so so desperate. A deeper frown stretched on Wren’s face.

“All I have are stories. I have stories and we both have pictures. Your phone has texts from me from years back too, I suppose. “ Wren tried to scrape his brain for anything else he could use to prove anything. Suddenly, he got something.

“You have a scar on your left side, right under your ribs. We were fencing with sticks when we were younger. We sharpened them using rocks and I accidentally stabbed you. I didn’t mean to, of course, but I know it’s there. I know you have a scar on your right foot where you dropped a burning marshmallow on it. We were having a fire pit, and you were getting cocky so you pushed your marshmallow right in the middle of the flames. It caught on fire, you held it up, and it dropped right on your bare foot.” Wren rambled as Stanley stared at him..

Stanley immediately lifted his shirt up and noticed the small scar under his right ribs. It was dark, but he could clearly see it under the moonlight. Stanley’s eyes widened at the sight before looking at Wren. There it was. Wren knew it would be there. Before long, he was ripping his shoe off and sock off as well.

An aggressive red splotch stretched over the top of Stanley’s foot. Another scar. Another scar Wren knew of. He looked back up at Wren with wide eyes. Wren knew him. How else would he know about the scars? If Stanley thought he could get a break from crying, he was dead wrong.

Stanley broke once more into tears. Wren knew him. Wren told the truth about everything. 

Wren told him the truth about his brother.

Stanley shuttered as tears started to roll down his face again. His brother was dead. He had a brother and he died years ago. How many other important people had he forgotten about? How many of them died as well? Would he even know if they did?

Wren didn’t hesitate at all to wrap his arms around Stanley. He was trembling again. Those pieces he attempted to pick up had quickly fallen apart. Stanley kept Wren close to him as he sobbed.

The Narrator kept checking the time. He was on his third cup of tea. He sat on the couch, but he could not stop bouncing his leg. He tried to write, but only ended up with a few scratched-out sentences. Stanley would be home soon, right? He had to be. Stanley promised him. He just had to be patient. He sat through the skip ending, he could sit through this.

It took several long minutes for Stanley to finally calm down again. His mind raced with so many ideas and lost memories. Wren stayed with him the entire time and cooed to help him relax. After a while, Stanley finally pulled away from Wren. He took a deep breath.

[Thank you.. Thank you for telling me everything and being here for me. I should get going back home to the Narrator. I don’t want to be gone for too long.] Stanley smiled gently at Wren and rubbed his eyes from tears. Wren watched him for a moment and nodded.

“Of course.. You should go make sure he’s still in one piece. I know how much you care about him.” Wren smiled gently. His mindset seemed to completely change from needing them to be separated. He knew how badly they needed one another, and he couldn’t come between that.

[Thank you, Wren.] Stanley smiled and nodded, turning to head off. He still had so many questions and knew even less than before, but he knew he couldn’t stay out any longer. The Narrator really needed him. Before he could leave, his friend spoke up again.

“Please give me a call if you need anything. If you ever need anything, I am one call away.” Wren smiled wide at Stanley. Stanley smiled back.

[Have a good night.] He signed and finally headed off to return to see the Narrator. While with Wren, he was mostly concerned with his own fleeting memories, but he kept his mind on the Narrator as well. The thought of him remained in his head the whole time. 

It was much colder outside now. It was later in the night and Stanley held his jacket closer to himself as he rushed home. He almost was running without noticing. Stanley had no clue how long he spent with Wren, but he was sure it was rather long. It couldn’t have been less than thirty minutes, but he knew that time had the potential to unravel the Narrator. He hoped the Narrator was alright.

Thankfully, the door was still unlocked when he got home. He knocked on the door before he opened it. The Narrator immediately looked up from his spot on the couch, and he set his mug down on the table.

[I’m home!] Stanley smiled as he signed, but he was interrupted as the Narrator was soon in his arms. Stanley chuckled and nuzzled into him, tightening his arms around the other man. He kissed the top of the Narrator’s head happily and rubbed his back gently.

They stayed together in silence for a moment. The Narrator missed him so much, even if he was gone for only about half an hour. Admittedly, Stanley missed the Narrator so much too. While everything he was learning was new, terrifying, and downright earth-shattering, the Narrator was a constant. He was a comfortable loving constant. Stanley definitely didn’t want to take that for granted.

“So.. How did it go, Stanley? Was everything alright?” The Narrator asked and stayed in his arms for one more moment before backing away. He knew Stanley would need his hands to sign after all. He hesitated to answer, but he did after a moment.

[It was okay.. I think.] Stanley signed slowly as he thought it over. He took a moment before he added. [I had a brother.] The Narrator looked at Stanley for a moment. He was silent as the fact sunk in.

“A brother.? I didn’t know you have siblings, Stanley.”

[Had.]

The room fell to silence again. Before the Narrator could attempt to form something to say, Stanley’s shoulders shook slightly. The tears were coming on again. He couldn’t escape them for even a few minutes.

“Oh Stanley..” The Narrator finally understood and pulled Stanley back into a hug. Stanley hated feeling this way. He hated being so utterly pathetic, but he couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. He hated this. All of his memories were a jumbled mess, and Stanley couldn’t even try to organize them.

“How about we head up to bed, Stanley? You definitely deserve some rest after today..” The Narrator tried to smile at Stanley, but Stanley just nodded weakly. He could barely look him in the eyes. Holding back his sigh, the Narrator took Stanley’s hand and led the both of them upstairs.

Stanley’s eyes were distant the entire walk and even once they were in their bedroom. The Narrator had to encourage Stanley to change out of his suit and even aided him in getting his pajamas on. 

Stanley hadn’t acted like this in a very long time. The Narrator couldn’t stand to see him like this. As he helped him change, the Narrator gently kissed his cheeks and hands. He was there for him, and he wanted to show it. They could talk about it in the morning when they both were more conscious.

“There we go, my dear.. Let’s just get into bed and sleep.” The Narrator helped Stanley into bed before he got in on his side. He quickly removed his glasses, guided Stanley to lay down, and cuddled up to him.

“Everything will be okay, you said it yourself. It will be.” The Narrator gently kissed Stanley’s cheek again, and he finally received a nod in acknowledgement.  He smiled gently and relaxed into Stanley. “Everything will be okay. I promise you.”

The day had really done a number on both of the men. The dinner was overly stressful and Stanley’s talk with Wren hadn’t exactly helped either. For the Narrator, the time alone also stabbed into him. The entire thirty minutes were full of near panic as he waited for Stanley to return to him. They cuddled close together in the comfort of each other. The Narrator fell asleep rather quickly after giving a few more gentle reassurances to Stanley. 

Stanley, on the other hand, stayed awake. Hours passed and Stanley stared out the window over the Narrator’s shoulder. His mind continued to race. How much had he missed in the week he was gone? How much did his mind force him to forget?

Another hour passed and Stanley slowly pushed himself up. The pursuit of sleep was useless, so he figured he might as well get himself some water. Thankfully, the Narrator stayed asleep as he slipped out of bed and left their bedroom.

Stanley grabbed water from the bathroom this time, not wanting to go all the way down to the kitchen. He stared at himself in the dark of the mirror. Who even was he? He saw the face look back at him, but was he the same person Wren described him as?

Old Stanley probably wouldn’t slam his head into a wall at the smallest inconvenience. Old Stanley wouldn’t punch his friends when he got frustrated. Old Stanley wouldn’t forget his brother’s death.

Wren tried to tell him he was the same, but Stanley heavily doubted it. He couldn’t possibly be the same. He wasn’t the old Stanley his friends knew him as. He was a coward.

He let out a shaky breath and took another sip of his water. His hand was trembling, but he couldn’t stop it anymore. He set the cup down on the counter and turned back to head to the bedroom. Instead of entering, Stanley froze at the door.

The photo album showed him about his friends.. So did he have others that showed him more about himself? 

Stanley turned back around and decided to start his search in his office. It had plenty of books, possibly more scrapbooks too. He opened the door slowly and looked inside before he turned the light on. Just in case, he shut the door, so the light wouldn’t pour into the hallway.

With the light on, he more clearly could look at the spines of books for any information. There weren’t any scrapbooks like the ones Aubrey made, but he found something else.

He pulled a book from the shelf. It looked like a normal journal, but the front cover read “April-May 20XX” in slightly messy handwriting. Stanley stared at it for a moment. It definitely wasn’t a scrapbook, but it wasn’t a normal novel either. He opened to a random page near the front.

‘April 4, 20XX

Today was decent, I guess. Joseph gave me another big assignment to work on, but what else do I expect? At least I can smell the promotion coming soon! The work will pay off. Hopefully. Wren says he knows it’s coming too, but it's so hard to be sure.

I went out with Harris today for lunch. He just started his new job so I wanted to see how it was going. Apparently well! At least from what he told me it seemed to be going well.’

Stanley’s eyes widened. This was what he needed. It had to be. There was more written on the page, but it didn’t seem that important. He quickly flipped through the book to find something more recent. He slowly sat down in the chair at the desk and opened another random page about halfway through the journal.

‘April 28, 20XX

FINALLY!!! I GOT IT! Oh my god, I was waiting for this for years. Finally, after all this time, Joseph sucked up his pride and gave me a goddamn promotion. I knew it was coming. Wren kept telling me it was coming, and it finally happened!!

We all went out for a lovely dinner today after I was told. Everyone was more than excited for me about it. Mia even got me flowers! Sunflowers, my absolute favorite! Oh, she is always the sweetest. Everything was just perfect today. Absolutely everything was amazing.

But as I write this I can’t ignore the sinking in my chest. Mom said she would be visiting soon, but of course she wouldn’t give me a date or time. One of her beloved surprise visits. I don’t know what she thinks she's accomplishing with them. Yeah, show up to your son’s house at random and get upset when he is REASONABLY frustrated. I will never understand that woman. I just pray it won’t be the 10th. Any other day but then.

I always end up rambling during these things. At least I can hope for a better tomorrow. And hopefully not a visit from her.’

Stanley read the pages a few times over. The journal mentioned the little celebrate Wren brought up about the promotion, so it proved that his story was adding up so far. The mention of a mother caused Stanley to tense. He forgot about his brother, and now his mother too. He spoke seemingly poorly about her, but he couldn’t understand why. He didn’t understand why he hated her so much. In the stories the Narrator wrote, people always were close to their mothers. Stanley flipped through a few more pages.

‘May 3, 20XX

I know I have another week until the anniversary of his death, but I haven’t stopped thinking about Lucas lately. I miss him. I really really miss him. I still can’t believe it’s been so long. I had a dream about him last night. In the dream, he knocked on my door and finally visited me again. We went out to lunch and caught up with one another. I remember we went to that flower field by the baker’s too. Oh, how he loved it so much.

He looked exactly how I imagined he would look today. His smile looked absolutely the same that it had when we were kids. It was so bright and joyful. What I would do to see him again.’

Some words were smudged out, the pages seemingly water damaged from a source Stanley didn’t know. He read on what he could, his own vision blurring from tears.

‘Mom better not come down to visit me on the 10th. The last thing I would want would be to see her. Not then. She barely deserves to call Lucas her son. I’ll be spending the day with my friends anyway so she would be knocking on the door to an empty house if she dares to show up.

I wrote too much today. Overall, I guess today was alright. I had a presentation that I think went decently. After the dream, today just turned into a big blur. I couldn’t stop thinking about Lucas, but that’s normal for this week. Joseph was already easing up on me. He knows the day is coming up too.’

Stanley stared at the page, but it soon faded out of being legible at all. He rubbed his eyes. There were more pages. He needed to read more. He needed to figure out who he was, and more importantly, what happened to him.

‘May 4, 20XX

Today was a nice change of pace. With all the stresses of work and Lucas constantly on my mind, today was a welcome change. Wren took me out to lunch, and then we drove to the nursery about 20 minutes away.

I kept insisting we didn’t have to go, but Wren knew something was wrong (like always), and he brought me along with him. He kept saying he was the one who needed plants and he just liked the company. I knew it was a lie, and I’m certain he knew I knew it was. Wren couldn’t keep a plant alive to save his life. The gesture was appreciated nonetheless. He was very patient with me today, I really could never thank him enough.

Once home, Mia helped me plant some outside and even brought over her special fertilizer she always has. It’s crazy how good she is with plants. I swear she’s a wizard or something, she has to be. I would be crazy to deny her help, even if I think I do pretty well with them on my own.

To end the day, we all got together and Harris made dinner. I don’t know how he always makes such good food. We even ate outside today. The weather was so gorgeous there was no way we were staying inside. Especially since he just got his deck redone. What an improvement to the day. Honestly it was an improvement to the week.”

Stanley flipped the page, but the next note was the second to last one. He stared at it for a moment, rubbed his eyes from tears, and read it.

‘May 5, 20XX

I met someone rather strange today. I never saw them around town before, but no one else looked at them oddly. I guess it was just a tourist or something. They come around every so often. Thinking back, it’s hard to try to describe their appearance. I’ll describe it better tomorrow once I see them again. They approached me with a kind smile and started some small talk. I tried to sign that I only knew sign language, but they simply responded by signing back. It’s rare to find other people who know sign, but I can’t remember being taken aback by it.’

Several words and sentences were written and then crossed out for the span of a few lines. The black ink caused a large break in lines with the next bit of writing starting at the bottom of the page in result.

‘I’m trying to think back on the interaction, but I can barely remember it. I normally thought I had a better memory than this, but I guess I was a little distracted today. I think they mentioned my brother and my mom, but I can’t say for sure. They spoke very well-mannered, I remember. I forget what they said to me, if they needed help or something, but they told me to meet them by the flowers tomorrow. 

No. It wasn’t for help. It was a survey or a study or something like that. I remember them saying I was a perfect “candidate” after talking with them a little. Thinking more about it, they mentioned my brother more than a few times and brought up his death. I don’t recall telling them about him, but everything they said was true. I think it was one of Lucas’s old friends. He was maybe coming to check in on me since it had been so long. That was why he knew so much about me, him, and our mother.

I’m not someone who normally falls for these tricks, but I couldn’t help but trust them. Something about them seemed so.. trustworthy for lack of a better word. I told them I would be there. Especially if it was someone Lucas knew, I didn’t want to make my chances and miss anything. Maybe they were cleaning some of their stuff out and found stuff that Lucas used to have, and now they wanted me to have it.

It’s so hard to know for sure. In all honesty thinking back on it now, I don’t know why I agreed to this. I don’t know this person at all. I just assumed they were nice and knew Lucas, but I really had no idea. What if they want to meet me so they can kill me? What if they want to do worse?

I’ll probably tell my friends my plan just so they know what I’m doing if I do go missing. It’s just for safety.’ 

A few other lines were scratched out. It was impossible to read what was under those thick black lines. Whatever Stanley wrote in the past, he certainly didn’t want anyone to see it. After almost a page of blacked out lines, there finally was another few blocks of text. Stanley desperately started to read it. Would he get an answer to his questions?

‘Something else just happened. I got an email from the person, but there is no email address they used. It’s just blank.  I didn’t know you could even do that. Looking at it again, they didn’t sign the email either. I don’t remember giving them any of my information to allow them to email me, but maybe I did. I don’t know what’s going on with my memory. I think I’ve been working too hard. 

The email made it clear that I really needed to see them and I couldn’t tell anymore. They told me the experience would help me with Lucas, mom, and every other worry I had.

Maybe I’m being too optimistic, but it’s worth a shot, right? I probably will sound absolutely crazy telling everyone about this, but I shouldn’t keep it a secret. What if something were to happen to me? They spent so long telling me to not say a thing to the point where it only made it more suspicious.

What am I doing? I shouldn’t go. I really shouldn’t. This is weird. That person was weird, the email was weird, everything about the situation was strange. No one would just solve my issues like they proposed. Nothing was adding up. Not a single thing even made the slightest bit of sense.

It’s getting late. I need to go to bed.’’

Stanley couldn’t make out any of the text that had been crossed out during and even after the entry. With a deep breath, he flipped to the next page for the final note. It was far shorter than the others. He expected something to help him, but he just received two short sentences in response.

‘May 6th, 20XX

I decided on going. I’m not telling anyone.’

Stanley stared at the words for a few moments, trying to process everything he read. He couldn’t. He couldn’t even try to figure out what he had written. Who was that person? What happened? 

He flipped through the rest of the empty pages left in the journal, wondering if another note was hidden in there somewhere. After his search was unsuccessful, he resorted to standing up and looking for other books, other journals.

He certainly found them. He found dozens of them. The need for sleep was nothing but a distant memory as he grabbed as many as he could find, sat on the floor, and started to flip through them. Stanley looked through them at random, trying to find any notes that seemed significant. He needed to learn more. He so badly needed more.

‘January 1, 20XX

HAPPY NEW YEAR!! New year new me! Everyone always says that, but I can’t help but indulge in the tradition of New Year's resolutions. I don’t really have any big ideas for them, but I have a couple floating around in my head.

• Eat healthier and work out more (that one is a given)
• Cook more and don’t just order out
• Learn more about painting from Aubrey and make some paintings of my own.
• Reread some of my library
• Stand up to Mom

That last one is a bit tough, and I am sure I won’t do it, but it’s always good to write stuff down, right? OH! I FORGOT ONE

• Start to write my novel

Alright that’s it. At least for now. Hopefully this year will finally be Stanley’s year! God knows I need it.’

‘November 17, 20XX

Lauren just had to call me today. She kept berating me about if I was coming down to see everyone even though I already told her and Mom I wasn’t. She went on her usual tangent about it, saying how I needed to care for my family and I shouldn’t just leave them. She said I didn’t see them for months like it wasn’t completely on purpose. What does she know??

I still can barely believe what she does sometimes. It was another voice call, so she didn’t even give me an opportunity to respond. Just like her. I hung up halfway through the call, but she WOULD NOT stop calling me afterward. By the time I picked up again, Mom was there too. Just perfect.

I definitely WILL NOT be going down to see them. That should be more than obvious, even if they try to convince themselves I will change my mind. They swear I am the crazy one. I might have my moments, but they aren’t exactly sane either.’

‘August 18, 20XX

Wren is one of the nicest people I know, I mean that. Today we just spent the day together and it was so wonderful. We got coffee and then wandered around town. It really helped to clear my head from everything going on these past few days. Wren always has a way of doing that. He makes everything better.

We talked about all of our old memories from our childhood. It is insane that we really have known each other for so long, but I am so thankful for him. He’s the one who introduced me to Mia and Harris after all!! And then Mia introduced Aubrey to the group. He really grew and supported my entire incredible friend group. They all are so absolutely amazing. I’m thinking of taking them all out to dinner tomorrow. Just as a thanks.’

‘May 10, 20XX

Today sucked. Today absolutely was one of the worst days I have had this year. I honestly should’ve expected it though. Lucas died 22 years ago, but it didn’t feel that long at all. Especially today, it felt like Lucas died only last year.

His death was enough for me today but of course Mom and Lauren had to show up too. Uninvited like usual. They said they wanted to “check in on me” but the check in turned into them berating me for two hours. Apparently I wasn’t helping them enough during this hard time, but it was also my fault he was gone.

They do this thing where they echo off of one another and don’t give me a single second to explain myself. They yell at me and I can only sit there and take it. It’s not like they have brushed up on their sign language in years either. They wouldn’t even understand what I was saying to them if I tried.

Whatever. I am over it. I’m going to spend the night at Wren’s house. I need someone who actually cares.’

Stanley’s eyes constantly refilled with tears as he flipped through the pages. All of these memories, all of these moments, were just gone. The names mentioned in the journals meant nothing to him beside those of his friends. The events mentioned were nothing but stories.

He shut the journal and rubbed his eyes from tears. He needed to see. He needed to keep reading his entries and notes. He needed to figure out more. Maybe one of these mentioned that strange person he met later.

Stanley took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. His mind raced with so much information that he was feeling lightheaded again. He couldn’t stop. He was so close to finding something, he was sure of it. He would find the answer to all of his questions. He just needed to search more.

‘March 23, 20XX’

‘March 1, 20XX’

‘February 3, 20XX’

‘December 20, 20XX’

Stanley kept flipping through the pages. He scanned through entire notebooks, but he was left with more questions than answers. The thoughts raced around his head and he constantly tried to ground himself further. He went back through years as he clawed for answers. Stanley knew that he wouldn’t find them. Not this far back. The names and events overwhelmed him.

With a shaky breath, he picked up the most recent journal again. If he wanted to figure out what happened, he had to revisit his latest note. Reading about moving away or going on a trip with my friends wouldn’t help anything. Not in the slightest.

Stanley read and reread the entire book cover to cover over and over. It had an answer. It had to have one somewhere. He looked closely at the crossed out text and tried to interpret what he said. It was unfortunately entirely blacked out.

The words were gibberish to him. The strange person, the email, the talk of his mother, none of it made any sense. He had proof right in his hands, but even then he couldn’t figure it out. More questions formed in his head than before. In his search for answers, he was only more confused.

He couldn’t take it any longer. He set the book down and hugged his knees to his chest. Sunlight was starting to pour in through the window and Stanley’s head pounded harder than before. His vision was permanently blurred from rubbing them and his constant tears. The lack of proper nutrients, the new information, the constant sobbing, and the no sleep were not treating him well. His pursuit for answers and a discovery of himself only led to more names and events he couldn’t even try to imagine.

Stanley let out a shaky breath and curled tighter into himself. At least he knew Wren was telling the truth, but that was the only real answer he got out of this. Why did he decide to do this to himself? Why did he search for these books?

The thought of the strange person kept rolling around in his head. Was that the start of all of this? Was that the day he disappeared? Did that person take him? Did the Narrator have a familiar run in with them?

With a shaky hand, Stanley reached out to take the book again, but he hesitated. What would repeating the same information do? He wouldn’t learn anything new at all. He already read it at least a dozen times. 

His laptop. The email would be there. The email would be on his laptop. It was proof that it happened.

Stanley stood up quickly, his head spinning for a moment. He took one shaky step toward the desk with spotty vision before everything went entirely black, and he fell to the floor.

Chapter Text

The chirping of birds greeted the Narrator as he slowly started to wake up. It was only in his moments of early consciousness that he finally noticed Stanley was missing from his arms. He yawned and opened his eyes to see if Stanley moved further over during the night, but he was nowhere to be seen. The Narrator sat up slowly and grabbed his glasses. Now with his clear vision, he confirmed that Stanley actually wasn’t in bed. He wondered if maybe Stanley was making himself breakfast like he did before.

But.. He couldn’t smell anything. The air lacked the scent of Stanley’s usual eggs or toast, and it definitely lacked a scent of coffee. The Narrator paused. Maybe Stanley woke up mere moments before him and he was just getting everything ready. Upon listening closer, there wasn’t a single sound in the house either. He greatly appreciated when Stanley made his tea in the mornings, but he was far from silent as he did it.

The Narrator finally pulled himself out of bed and stretched for a moment. Changing could wait. He would find where Stanley was first. Ah. Maybe he was taking a shower, right?

After a knock and gently pushing the door open, the Narrator poked his head inside the bathroom. Nope. All silent in there too. The Narrator took a deep breath and started to mutter to himself. His voice was the only thing that could fill the silence, and goddammit was he going to occupy the space somehow.

“Maybe he is just being extra quiet today.. He might have a surprise he is working on. Yeah. That has to be it.” The Narrator approached the steps and walked right down them, ignoring the study entirely. Sure light was coming from under the door, but the sun had risen completely now. Every room of the house was full of sunlight, so the Narrator paid the light no mind and walked down the steps and into the kitchen.

Stanley wasn’t in there either. He wasn’t in their bedroom, the bathroom, or the kitchen. The Narrator’s pace picked up slightly as he looked around the living room. He soon looked everywhere he possibly could downstairs. Stanley wasn’t there, or at least he wasn’t anywhere visible.

“Stanley.?” The Narrator started to call out to him as well as he searched. If he couldn’t find Stanley, maybe Stanley would hear him and come out from wherever he was hiding. He paused for a moment before he called again. 

“Stanley? Where are you?” Still no response. The Narrator’s heart was starting to beat harder, and he could feel it thump against his rib cage. He checked around the entire downstairs again before he poked his head outside the front door. He looked down the street both ways several times. Stanley wasn’t there either. Or at least, he wasn’t close anymore.

How far had Stanley gone? Did he maybe go to town? Was he picking up something for the both of them? Did Wren call him to come over again? Did he go back to the Parable?

A shaky breath escaped the Narrator’s lips. No, no.. He couldn’t have gone back. Stanley wouldn’t do that to him. He had to be in the house somewhere. He just needed to find him. He needed to search more carefully.

The Narrator shut the front door. He decided he should check upstairs again. Stanley had to be in the house. If he wasn’t, the Narrator would have no idea what to do. He quickly shook those thoughts away, but tears started to collect in his eyes from the possibility.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Narrator.” He mumbled to himself as he shakily walked up the steps. At the top of the stairs, the Narrator realized he never checked the study. Maybe Stanley decided to try to write something. Maybe he got inspired by the Narrator. That would be sweet.

The Narrator smiled gently and knocked on the door. There was no response so he knocked again. He thankfully didn’t hear any banging on the wall this time, but he also didn’t hear anything else. No shuffling around, no one moving to answer the door, nothing. Just silence.

“Stanley? Are you in there?” The Narrator knocked again. He finally decided to open the door that thankfully was not locked. The room was soon revealed and Stanley was there, just not exactly how the Narrator wanted to find him.

“Stanley?!” The Narrator flung the door fully open so quickly that it slammed into the wall. Stanley laid face down in the middle of the floor. Several journals were spread out across the ground, but the Narrator didn’t have time to worry about those. He quickly ran to Stanley’s side and sat on his knees beside him. Tears already were pooled in his eyes from his anxiety, but now they were starting to pour down his cheeks. The Narrator’s hands were trembling.

“Stanley!! Respond to me! Are you okay?!” His shouting was doing nothing at all to wake Stanley up. He was hesitant to put his hands on him, but he did after a moment to gently shake him. Nothing. He shook Stanley harder. Still nothing at all. The Narrator gripped Stanley’s shirt tightly in his fists.

Stanley wasn’t breathing. The Narrator shakily turned Stanley over to lie on his back to look closer at him. His eyes were shut, his mouth was slightly agape, and most importantly and unfortunately, he was completely unresponsive. Tears started to flow more freely down the Narrator’s cheeks. His hands trembled harder than they did in any other moment of panic.

Oh my god.. He was dead. Stanley was dead. The only time he was this still was after the zending. Stanley was completely limp, unresponsive, and his chest wasn’t moving at all. Stanley was dead.

The Narrator let a pained sob escape his lips as he let his forehead fall onto Stanley’s chest. He tightly gripped onto his shirt and sobbed into him. Stanley was dead. He lost Stanley. They couldn’t reset anymore. He was just gone. Stanley wasn’t coming back.

The Narrator stayed with Stanley for about an hour as he sobbed. He couldn’t find the strength to move, all he could do was cry and grieve. Stanley was dead. All he was here for, everything he cared for, was gone. He would have never escaped the Parable if he knew it would just cause him to be alone. He wanted Stanley back.

Was this all predetermined like the Narrator’s endings were? He thought escaping would be a new story for the pair, but he didn’t want a tragic ending. He thought the outside world wouldn’t have endings like this.

He spent a few long minutes praying that Stanley would somehow wake up, before he separated from the other man and leaned back onto his folded legs. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Stanley was laying-.. Stanley’s corpse was just in the middle of the room in the sunlight.

The Narrator caught another sob in his throat. Stanley looked so gorgeous like that. The sun perfectly illuminated his face and highlighted every remarkable part of him. His expression was so soft, he looked amazingly calm. Stanley had dark circles under his eyes, but the Narrator ignored them with ease. He was just so beautiful. The Narrator let the tears freely stream down his face. He looked so handsome and perfect, but he was dead. His beauty only hid the fact he was nothing but a corpse.

What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t navigate this world alone. The Narrator couldn’t even imagine being alone without Stanley with him. He wasn’t built for this world, he didn’t know what was going on, and he didn’t know a single person beside Stanley. The Narrator was alone. He was alone, but Stanley was right there. Stanley was there, but in actuality he wasn’t. His body was there, but no other part of him was.

After another moment of sobbing and trying to calm himself down, the Narrator shakily stood up. His mind finally decided on something that could hopefully help him. He could call Stanley’s friends and at least let them know. They deserved to know. Maybe they could even be his friends if Stanley was gone. They might help support him.

Shakily, he navigated his way down the steps and tried to clear the tears from his eyes. Of course, his attempts were fruitless as they simply kept refilling. The Narrator didn’t even have one clear moment of vision and held onto the stair railing to keep his shaky legs from giving out under him. He found Stanley’s phone in the kitchen and picked it up. His mind was so foggy that he didn’t even consider worrying about the fact that he was going to call someone, or that he had to pick who to call. The Narrator couldn’t even see the names, so he instead picked one at the top that was starred and clicked it. The phone started to ring, he held the phone to his ear, and waited.

“Stanley? Hello?” Of course, Wren was the one he had to call. His voice was soaked with confusion and slight concern. Stanley never called, he would always use video calls. He didn’t get an answer at first, instead receiving only sniffing and a shaky breath.

“Is.. This the Narrator.? Are you okay?” Wren’s tone became insanely soft and gentle upon hearing the assumed crying. His questions were met with silence for another moment before he finally got an answer, not that it was one he would ever want to hear.

“H-he… Stanley… he’s dead..” The Narrator could barely hold the phone to his ear as he spoke into it. He gripped onto the counter to keep himself standing. Saying the words out loud caused him to let out another sob. He couldn’t keep himself together anymore and was completely falling apart.

“… what?” The voice on the other line was silent for a moment. Wren tried to process what the Narrator very shakily said. It couldn’t be true. “What the fuck do you mean he’s dead? What did you do?!” Like it often did, Wren’s worry turned into slight anger. Stanley was dead? No. He couldn’t be. The easiest way to cope with that was disbelief.

“I-I don’t know! I.. I woke up and found him face down on the ground. He.. He’s not moving. He’s not breathing..” The Narrator tried to speak through sobs. He could barely breathe, nonetheless speak. Wren’s voice was silent before the line beeped as it went dead.

The Narrator let the phone drop from his hand back onto the counter and sobbed. He wanted to scream out. He lost Stanley. He lost his Stanley.

With shaky legs, he made his way back up the steps. Maybe.. Maybe he would walk in and Stanley would be better again. He would be healed. He just needed a moment to collect himself. The Narrator would walk in the office and Stanley would be alive.

But, of course that wasn’t the case. There he was, laying on his back exactly as the Narrator left him a few minutes ago. He was unmoving, silent, peaceful, and dead. Slowly, the Narrator made his way to the center of the room and sat beside Stanley. He ran dry of all of his tears. If he cared at all about himself, he would’ve also noticed the pounding headache that started to plague him.

A hard and quick knock came on the door. It was only about five minutes since the Narrator called Wren. The Narrator didn’t bother to stand up from his spot. He kept his head down on Stanley. He didn’t have any more strength to move. The front door was left unlocked, so his guest could come in easily.

After a few more knocks that were met with silence, the door opened up quickly and was followed by some panicked yelling.

“The Narrator?! Where are you? Where is Stanley?!” The Narrator heard Wren scramble around downstairs before coming upstairs. The Narrator hadn’t moved from his spot by the time Wren entered the study. He heard him gasp and take a slow step into the room.

“Oh my god..” The Narrator finally pulled away from Stanley ever so slightly. Tears welled in Wren’s eyes as he stared at Stanley. He noticed the journals around the room and knew that was the opposite of a good sign. Especially after the conversation they had. Slowly and carefully, he approached him and kneeled down beside the Narrator. “Holy shit.. Stanley…” The Narrator glanced at Wren with a deep frown, but watched as his guest’s expression changed.

Wren stared at Stanley, but his look of concern and sadness started to shift to one of confusion. After wiping his eyes quickly, he moved his hand and held two fingers under Stanley’s jaw. Wren leaned close to him and held his ear right above Stanley’s mouth. The sadness was completely gone now, and he glared at the Narrator.

“Is this funny to you?!” Wren stood up quickly. He moved to carefully pick Stanley up, situating his arms under his legs and back to properly support his limp body. “Is this a fucking joke?!”

The Narrator stared up at him with confusion. He wanted to yell at him to put Stanley down, but he couldn’t form words. His throat felt tight and dry, his headache finally caught up to him, and his glasses were slightly askew on his face. All of the crying did a serious number on him, and he couldn’t even attempt to recover. In all honesty, he looked pathetic. The Narrator sat on his knees and stared up at Wren with red, glossy eyes.

Wren stared back at him and eventually sighed. He was more than frustrated, but he tried to calm himself down. The Narrator understood almost nothing about anything, so what else did he expect? To the Narrator, Stanley probably was dead. He didn’t seem like someone who would lie on purpose to cause this panic. He was a complete wreck himself.

“He isn’t dead. He just passed out. Stanley is alive.” Wren gritted his teeth slightly as he spoke. The Narrator caused so much fear and anxiety in Wren, but he tried to keep his frustration low. If he rose his voice again, he had the feeling he would break the man entirely. The Narrator’s reaction really proved that he genuinely believed that Stanley was dead.

The Narrator’s eyes widened as he stared at Wren. He opened his mouth to speak, but not a single word could escape from his lips. A shaky smile stretched across his face as he looked at Stanley in Wren’s arms. He was trembling as he tried to process everything. Stanley wasn’t dead. 

‘He’s alive… Stanley is alive..’ The Narrator mouthed at Wren. Wren looked down at him. He couldn’t help but feel bad for the man. Wren could tell he was in pieces. The Narrator was ripped apart about even the thought that Stanley was dead, and Wren shouldn’t push more stress onto him. He sighed and started to head to the door.

“Come on, Narrator. I’m going to put him in bed, and I’m sure you want to be there with him.” Wren stopped in the doorway for a minute. “I’m sure he’d want you there too when he wakes up.” Wren didn’t face him when he said it, but he heard the Narrator scramble to stand up. Wren smiled softly and started down the hallway, the Narrator trailing behind him and leaning against the wall for support.

Carefully, Wren set Stanley down in bed and the Narrator quickly crawled in from the other side. He moved close to Stanley, but was hesitant to touch him.

“I’m going to get some water for when he wakes up.. And some for you too. I’ll give everyone a call to let them know what’s going on too.” Wren smiled gently at the Narrator and left the room pretty quickly, giving the pair the time they needed.

The Narrator nodded gently but looked back at Stanley. He stared at him. Stanley looked much better here. It was like he was just sleeping. The Narrator rubbed his eyes and face, the skin on his cheeks tight from his dried tears. He stayed sitting up for a moment before he finally settled into bed beside Stanley. He cuddled close, but only held onto his arm. The Narrator had no idea why Stanley passed out, but he didn’t want to take any chances hurting him more.

Wren’s voice on the phone downstairs was faintly heard by the Narrator, but he tried to ignore it and just focus on Stanley. He watched closely as Stanley’s chest rose and fell gently. Why didn’t he notice that before? He could have avoided this whole situation. Well.. Not all of it, but no one else would have to be involved.

The room was silent that contained the two men. The silence started to crawl into the constant pit in the Narrator’s chest. This felt far too familiar. Stanley still, silent, and unconscious with the Narrator awake and unable to be heard. The Narrator gripped onto Stanley’s arm tighter.

“Stanley.. Can you hear me? At all.?” Of course, he received no reaction. The Narrator felt his body start to tremble again. “Oh, Stanley.. You have to hear me. I don’t want to go through this again and I know you don’t want to either. Please wake up, Stanley…” His voice became shaky and desperate.

How long would it take for Stanley to wake up? Would it be in a couple of minutes, hours, or would it become days? Pain started to settle into the Narrator’s head and his eyes. This was rare, he never felt pain like this, but god was it harsh and extreme now. He couldn’t just reset it away either. The Narrator nuzzled deeper into Stanley, his glasses digging into his face.

“Please Stanley.. Wake up… I need to know you’re listening. I know you’re alive.. But I need to know you can hear me.” The Narrator muttered into Stanley, his face remaining hidden. Silence fell into the room for another moment before footsteps approached the room and walked in. 

“Alright.. I have some water for you too, Narrator.” Wren walked into the room with two cups, but his voice trailed off as he saw the state of the conscious man. He sighed gently and set the water cups down on the bedside table.

“Stanley will be alright, Narrator. He just.. Passed out. He went through a lot of emotions last night and most likely early this morning as well. He probably over exhausted himself mentally and his body couldn’t take it. Those.. Books around him too. Stanley used to keep dairies about his everyday life, so I can assume he read them and broke down.” Wren looked at the Narrator and his saddened expression.

“He is having a hard time trying to catch up with his memory. I tell him all this stuff, or he finds it, but he doesn’t understand a single word of it.” The Narrator nodded gently and keep his eyes on Stanley’s slowly rising chest. He rubbed his eyes again, pain spiking through them again when he did.

“I promise he will be okay. He really has been going through a lot mentally, and I’m sure you are too. He is thankful to have someone like you to support him, I know it.” Wren smiled gently at him and sat down on the edge of the bed beside Stanley, gently brushing his hair out of his face.

“But.. I didn’t help him with this.. He went off and passed out… without me to help him. He was all alone.” The Narrator nuzzled down into Stanley further. He felt so guilty that he let his happen.

“Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have known what he was doing… He had so much weighing on him, but you seem to normally help him so much with the weight. You were the only person he had coming out of… the stuff that happened. It sounds like you helped him a lot while in the uh.. The, what was it called?”

“The Parable.” The Narrator’s voice was slightly scratchy and quiet.

“Yeah, in the Parable. You helped him a lot, and he obviously really needs you.” Wren took his eyes off of Stanley and looked at the Narrator. The room fell quiet again for a moment. Wren watched the Narrator’s sadness as he stared at Stanley. Wren thought about all those terrible things he said to him. He definitely deserved an apology. “Last night, I met with Stanley to apologize to him, but I owe you an apology too.

“I really am sorry about accusing you of kidnapping Stanley, saying we would take you away from him, and not over all trusting you. I got frustrated with the entire situation, but talking to Stanley really helped me see things from a different perspective.” Wren looked at the Narrator, who now had his head lifted. The Narrator didn’t make eye contact, but he looked at Wren. “I’m sorry I said those things. You seem like an amazing person and Stanley really needs you.”

“Thank you, Wren… I-I forgive you.” The Narrator spoke softly and settled his chin onto Stanley again. He thought for a moment before he continued to speak. “I know Stanley cared about you, and all the others too. I am sorry for my own apprehension.. I am not one who is used to being around other people, and especially other people who are so close to Stanley.

“I’m not used to.. Sharing him I suppose. Stanley was mine, just mine. Now he’s everyone’s. He has more people to focus on, and I’m scared that maybe he won’t need me anymore.” The Narrator would never open up like this, but his brain was far too foggy to hold him back. And once he started talking, he often couldn’t stop.

“Stanley and I have been through so much together. He was all I had, and I was all he had.. It was terrible, the Parable was absolutely terrible, but it was easier than it is out here. Everything was predetermined, everything would fix itself, and we were… mostly happy.” Wren didn’t interrupt him as he continued to ramble, but he nodded gently to acknowledge what he said. The Narrator started to trail off onto different topics as he spoke.

“Well… No, we weren’t mostly happy. There was so much pain in that office building. I would never want to go back. It is hard out here, but it was worse in there. Stanley wasn’t lying when he said he killed himself and died by my own hand multiple times.. It hurt, but he always came back like nothing happened. I was always there for him after those resets, and he was there for me too. 

“I would be the one to comfort him. I would dry his tears and soothe him, but now he has you all as well. In the Parable, he would listen to me, and we would converse in our own little ways. Now he can just go to one of you. You all know more about him anyway…” The Narrator frowned as he glanced at Stanley’s face. He really didn’t know anything about him beside what happened inside the Parable. Was he even that close to him?

Wren looked down at the Narrator. That was a lot of information to say the least, but it was ultimately good to get out. He made sure the Narrator was finished speaking before he responded.

“Well.. We knew the old Stanley. His personally seems pretty much the same, but it sounds like you spent as much time with him that we have, maybe even more.” Wren smiled encouragingly at the Narrator. “We won’t get between you two, but..” Wren started to go on about how they should learn to be less dependent on each other, but now wasn’t the time. He could at least wait until they both were more settled into this world.

The Narrator still confused Wren beyond belief. Everything about their situation did, but especially the Narrator himself. Nothing made sense at all, but he knew he just had to go along with it for everyone’s sake. More pushback would not be good for either of the men.

“Bottom line, we won’t get between you two. You two need one another, and it isn’t our place to stop that.” Wren smiled at him, but he soon noticed the pain contorted on his face. The Narrator had his eyes shut tight and leaned his face onto Stanley again. Wren raised an eyebrow.

“Are.. You alright? I mean, I understand thinking Stanley is dead and learning he isn’t is very mentally taxing, but is there something else? Something.. Physical?” Wren took one of the glasses of water from the table and held it to him. “I assume you’re at least a little dehydrated from crying. The water should help.” The Narrator slowly shifted and sat up in the bed. His hair was a bit of a mess, his eyes were still red and puffy, and his lips were dry.

“But.. I don’t need water. I don’t normally need to worry about this body hurting at all. Especially not without a cause or impact, but now my head aches and so do my eyes.” The Narrator fixed his glasses and gently took the water. His hands were shaking slightly as he took the cup. He stared at the water and hesitated to drink it. Wren watched as he carefully took a sip. Now that it was just the two of them, Stanley still knocked out cold, his curiosity got the better of him.

“So.. I know you told me about it multiple times before, but you aren’t human? How does that work?” Wren watched the Narrator as he swallowed down a small sip of water and held the cup in his hands. The Narrator tried to think of a way to say what he wanted before he started.

“No, no, I am not.. I made this human model, so I could better interact with Stanley. He started to restlessly tell me he was getting tired of the whole ‘voice in the ceiling’ thing, and truthfully so was I. I made the model under his request and searched for hours to make the perfect one.” The Narrator glanced up at Wren’s confused face. “I normally was formless. Just a voice to narrate what Stanley did.

“I am certain I can’t escape this model here though.. This world has too many rules that the Parable neglected. I am coming to realize that… I think the passage of time proves it enough.” The Narrator took another sip of his water to give Wren a moment to process everything. The Narrator kept glancing down at Stanley for him to wake up, but at least he had Wren to talk to now. He wasn’t completely alone. Maybe it was a good idea to try to bond with Stanley’s friends..

“I-.. Guess I understand? That’s why you don’t need to eat or anything.” Wren’s brain worked to try to wrap itself around the topic, but it was a lost cause. “Crying and lots of stress normally causes headaches in us.. Humans at least. I guess. Maybe your body- rather the model, is feeling the stresses of all the emotions it’s going through and that’s why it’s hurting?” 

“I would have hoped I made it better than that..” The Narrator muttered and took one last small sip of the water before handing it to Wren to put back on the table. He opened his mouth to speak further, but Stanley made a small groan noise and his hand came to cover his eyes from the bright sun.

“Stanley?! Stanley! Are you awake?” The Narrator immediately noticed, and he nearly jumped out of the bed in excitement. Oh my god.. He was back. He was back from, at least what the Narrator thought was, a near-death experience. Stanley quickly signed using one hand, his other still covering his face.

[Quiet please. Hurt.] His signs definitely took a little interpreting with the combination of using one hand and also covering his entire face, but both Wren and the Narrator soon understood them.

“Ah yes.. I am sorry, Stanley. I just am so glad you’re awake.. Oh, I was so worried.” The Narrator spoke softly, now very aware of his volume. He so badly wanted to hold Stanley’s hand, but he knew he needed it for signing. The Narrator placed his hand on his shoulder instead. He glanced at Wren with a very wide smile.

“How are you feeling, Stan? What hurts?” Wren slowly got up from the edge of the bed, ready to get him any medication or anything he would need. Stanley shifted and gently took his hand away from his eyes to look at Wren. He was shocked to see him there. How did..

Stanley took a moment to register where he was. He was in bed with the Narrator and Wren was standing right there too. How did he get in bed? Why was Wren over? He went from being in the study to being in bed. Wren noticed Stanley’s confusion right away and chuckled lightly.

“The Narrator called me since he found you on the ground. He.. Thought you were dead, so I rushed over and discovered you weren’t. I brought you here and that brings us to now.” Stanley listened to all he said before he slowly turned over to the Narrator. He wasted no time in pulling him into a tight hug. Stanley nuzzled into him and wanted nothing more than to apologize to him over and over for worrying him so much.

“Oh, Stanley it's alright.. I just got scared. I didn’t see you that still since.. Well the zending.” The Narrator fell to silence for a moment. He took a breath before he continued. “I couldn’t move for a moment.. I cried beside you for an hour before I finally got up. I went to the kitchen and called the first person I could, and that ended up being Wren.”

Stanley squeezed the Narrator tighter and pulled away to kiss all over his face. Each kiss was an apology, and the Narrator gladly accepted it. Stanley stayed close to him. He didn’t expect to pass out, and he absolutely didn’t expect to cause this whole mess. Stanley planted another kiss on the Narrator’s cheek.

“As much as I hate to interrupt.. We should probably get you some meds or water. I have a cup here, but you have to actually drink it.” Wren spoke gently, really feeling bad about cutting into the middle of the nice reunion. Stanley gave the Narrator another peck on the nose before pulling away and sitting up slightly in bed. He blinked hard a few times in an attempt to catch his pounding head up to speed and held his hands out.

Wren understood what he needed to do, and he set the cup into Stanley’s hands. His hands were trembling ever so slightly as he took it and brought it to his lips. The Narrator smiled gently as he watched Stanley finally take a drink.

“Does your head hurt, Stan? I can grab some medicine to help you.” Wren questioned as he grabbed the empty cup from Stanley once he was done. The man nodded without a second thought and smiled gently.

[That would be great, thank you.] Wren returned the grin and left the room to grab the medicine from downstairs in the kitchen. Stanley watched him go and then turned his gaze to the Narrator. He frowned once he looked at him closer.

[You look exhausted.. Are you okay?] Stanley wrapped his arms back around the Narrator and pulled him close. He couldn’t ask anything else like this, but he didn’t care. It didn’t take long for him to pull the Narrator into his lap and nuzzle into him.

“I.. I am now. I am doing much better, actually. I was so terrified before, but I know you’re okay. It’s much better knowing you are okay and alive.” The Narrator smiled gently and hugged Stanley back. He rested his chin on Stanley’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I would do if you were gone.. I thought about that a lot. 

“I stayed there with you for at least an hour.. Just praying you would come back.” He chuckled painfully. “I wondered if everything would reset if I waited long enough. I hoped it would, but of course, we aren’t in the Parable anymore..” The Narrator was quiet again for a moment. He squeezed Stanley tighter as he thought.

“Stanley.. I think you should stop having near-death experiences. I don’t think my heart can take it any longer.. I was talking to Wren while you were unconscious. He thinks the stress has been having an effect on this body as well. My head was pounding and my eyes hurt. It thankfully went away with water, but it still doesn’t seem good for me..” Stanley nodded along gently and signed his apologies into the Narrator’s back. He could easily say more, but he also didn’t want to pull away from the Narrator again.

Wren finally came back to the room with two little pills in his hand. He smiled gently seeing the Narrator and Stanley together like that. He again, hated to interrupt, but it would make Stanley feel better.

“I’ve got the medicine for you, Stan. They’re small so you can swallow them down with water.” Wren came over as he spoke and grabbed what was the Narrator’s cup still half full of water for him too. Stanley pulled away ever so slightly from the Narrator and happily took the pills in his hand and the water in the other. He smiled his thank you and swallowed the meds.

Thank god for the placebo effect. Stanley set the cup back down and rested his chin on the Narrator’s shoulder. He hummed gently and shut his eyes. He wanted to just relax for once. The dinner was last night and everything was so stressful since then. All Stanley wanted was to be able to relax for one moment. 

“Will you two be able to handle everything on your own then? I am fine sticking around a bit longer too if you need it though.” Wren watched them. He definitely wouldn’t mind helping out, but they seemed to be fine for now. The Narrator glanced at Stanley for a moment to get an answer from him, and he very subtly nodded in response.

“We should be okay, Wren. Thank you again for all of your help. I really appreciate it more than I can put into words.” The Narrator looked at Wren and smiled gently. “I’ll give you a call if we need anything else.”

“Perfect.” Wren smiled wide at them. That was all he could hope for. He would be there to help no matter what. “Alright. Well, I hope to hear from you both soon. Please do not hesitate to reach out for any help you need. Both of you take it easy today. You deserve it.” Wren kept a smile on his face, he ruffled Stanley’s hair, and left the bedroom.

A few moments passed before the pair heard the door downstairs open and shut as Wren left the house. Stanley hummed gently to himself and nuzzled into the Narrator. Before long, he took the Narrator’s glasses off, rolled over with him so they both were laying down, and he cuddled close to him. The older man chuckled and rubbed Stanley’s back.

“I think you should get some real rest. Not a pass-out rest, but a real genuine sleep. You deserve it Stanley. We can relax for a little and then talk about what you were doing in the study, how does that sound?” The Narrator kissed Stanley’s head gently. He nodded gently in response and smiled sleepily. He didn’t know if he would really sleep, but just laying here would be fantastic. Stanley cuddled close to the Narrator, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath as he started to relax.

Stanley didn’t end up falling asleep after all, but he appreciated the calming time with the Narrator. Once he noticed that Stanley wasn’t going to sleep, he decided it would be perfect to tell him about another story idea he had. He only had fragments of the plot ready, but Stanley happily listened to whatever he said. After all of the stress of the past few days, he wanted nothing more than this time to relax and listen to his favorite voice.

“Maybe you could write this one along with me, Stanley. You could fill in the blanks with your own ideas, and we could make something together. I think that would be fun.” The Narrator spoke gently and Stanley nodded with his head upon his chest. They tossed a few more ideas back and forth before Stanley slowly sat up.

Stanley yawned gently and grabbed the cup of water. He took another short sip and looked at the Narrator. [I think I should probably eat something.] The Narrator nodded gently and sat up as well. They both were still in their pajamas, but neither of them cared for now. They deserved a PJ day.

“I think that is definitely a good idea.” The Narrator rolled himself out of bed and reached for his glasses. Of course, Stanley was the one who grabbed them earlier, so Stanley grabbed them and held them out to the Narrator. “Oh, thank you so much.” He set the glasses on his face and looked at the man who gave them to him.

Stanley definitely looked better than he did before. The best part of it all was his wonderful smile. The dark circles under his eyes were gone too. He grinned at the Narrator and kissed his cheek gently before he got out of bed. He stretched, but stumbled slightly. He absolutely needed food. He felt lightheaded still even though he had water and meds. The Narrator noticed and stood up as well.

“I can make some food for you. It’s around lunchtime so I guess we can call it that. You just should just relax today, alright?” The Narrator smiled and came around the bed to stand beside Stanley. After Stanley agreed, the pair made their way down the steps and into the kitchen. The Narrator supported Stanley as he walked to make sure he wouldn’t fall.

Stanley sat up on the counter as the Narrator started to look around the kitchen for something to make. He hummed to himself as he opened cabinets and searched for ingredients. In all honesty, he didn’t know why he was even doing this. The Narrator wouldn’t be able to pick anything specific to make, but he just wanted to be nice to his dear Stanley.

[Not sure what to make?] Stanley caught his attention and signed to him. The Narrator nodded gently. The Narrator opened his mouth to agree, but Stanley signed before he could. [How about a grilled cheese and soup? Maybe chicken noodle soup.] He quickly realized that they had quite a few soups, so he wanted to tell the Narrator exactly which one he wanted. The fewer choices the better. Stanley didn’t want to repeat what happened in the grocery store.

“Oh! That sounds like a good idea.” The Narrator smiled wide and grabbed the bread, cheese, and soup from the cabinet before setting them all on the counter. He had the spirit to make it, but lacked the proper steps. He started to grab a piece of bread before he froze. The Narrator didn’t even know where to start. Stanley tapped the counter to get his attention before he signed.

[I can be your narrator for today.] Stanley grinned wide and looked down at him. [How does that sound? I can relax, but I can help you out too.] He swung his legs slightly as they hung off the counter.

“I think.. That would be a fun idea. If you are willing of course. We haven’t done something like this before.” The Narrator smiled gently as he looked at Stanley. “You can be my narrator for now. It’s worth a shot.” Stanley smiled wider and clapped gently before he started to sign.

[Narry carefully took two pieces of bread from the bag and grabbed the butter dish from the counter…]

The Narrator kept a massive grin on his face as Stanley narrated his actions. He wasn’t someone to enjoy new things, but he certainly had a good time with this. Stanley was making the decisions, but he still could relax and take it easy. 

[The Narrator carefully took the bowl out of the microwave and stirred it. Carefully .] Stanley smiled as he watched the Narrator follow his instructions. He made sure that he didn’t burn himself with the boiling soup as he put the bowl on the counter and grabbed a spoon to stir it.

“This is rather fun, Stanley. I am enjoying this quite a lot. You can just sit there and relax while I can have fun cooking for you.” The Narrator smiled wide at Stanley, and the man on the counter smiled back at him. Both admittedly became a bit distracted, but Stanley glanced at the stove and quickly signed.

[The grilled cheese! The Narrator checked the grilled cheese to make sure it wasn’t burning!] Stanley realized that they neglected to check it in a while. The Narrator quickly darted over to the stove and flipped it over. Thankfully, it wasn’t burnt that bad, and Stanley honestly was hungry enough that he would eat it no matter what. Both of the men let out a small sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank goodness, I was worried there for a moment.” He chuckled gently as he glanced back at Stanley, awaiting further instructions. Stanley noticed and smiled as he signed on.

[Thank goodness the Narrator caught it on time. He took the cooked grilled cheese and put it onto the plate he removed from the cupboard earlier.] The Narrator nodded along to his instructions and followed them perfectly. He slid the sandwich out of the pan and onto the plate. [The Narrator then cut the grilled cheese in half.]

While the Narrator nodded along to the instructions, he stared down at the grilled cheese. In half, but there were so many ways to cut it in half. Did he want it diagonal or into rectangles? The Narrator glanced up at Stanley again and got his answer with a chuckle. Stanley couldn’t read his mind, but he could connect the dots well enough.

[Rectangles work.] He really didn’t mind either way, but it was the first thought he had after seeing the man’s confused expression. The Narrator smiled his thanks and cut it. The lunch was all done now, so the Narrator carried the plate and bowl carefully to the dining room. Stanley grinned, hopped down from the counter, and followed him into the room.

Stanley cupped the Narrator’s face and kissed his cheek before he sat down in his chair. [You are so kind to me, Narry. Thank you so much. I really appreciate all of this.] He moved his hand and gripped the Narrator’s briefly before he started to slowly eat. The Narrator smiled and sat down in the chair he normally did.

“I am more than happy to help. I really want to do anything I can to help you.” He smiled gently as he spoke, but the earlier events still plagued his mind slightly. “Please, if you ever have nightmares or have something on your mind, tell me about them or even wake me up. I want to be there for you. I don’t mind waking up at all if it means comforting you. I.. really don’t want a repeat of last night or the day you found the photo album.” The Narrator fidgeted with his fingers slightly as he spoke.

Stanley frowned gently and set his spoon down. He reached his hand and held the Narrator’s briefly. He smiled sweetly at him. [It won’t. I won’t let it. I promise.] They looked at one another for a moment with smiles before Stanley returned to eating.

The Narrator smiled gently as he sat in his chair beside Stanley. Everything was working out again. Everything would be just fine. Hopefully. He really hoped it would. They had so many hard days after one another, all they wanted was for something to be fine.

Stanley took his time eating as the Narrator talked to him about a few small things. He didn’t discuss the events of the morning too much, mostly just talking about his stories. Stanley happily nodded along and added comments when it seemed appropriate. After a bit longer of talking about random topics, the Narrator finally figured he should test the waters with questions about the morning.

“So.. I suppose there is a lot we should talk about..” The Narrator picked at his fingernails for a moment before glancing at Stanley. Stanley froze, but nodded gently. He knew this had to happen too.

“I guess a place to start is with your conversation with Wren.. I know you told me that you had a brother, but we said we would talk about it more today.” Stanley looked at the Narrator as he spoke, finished off another spoonful of soup, set his spoon down, and started to sign.

[Wren told me about him. When I met him last night, I asked him about how I was before I was gone. He said I have the same personality, but he told me all of these things we used to do together. Wren talked about vacations I would go on with everyone, the times we had together as kids, and then about Lucas, my brother.] Stanley took a moment to collect his thoughts before he went on.

[I came home after all of it and I couldn’t sleep. Even as you fell asleep, I couldn’t. I decided to just get up and see if I could find any proof of his stories for myself. I originally wanted to find more photo albums, but I found these diaries instead.. 

[They contained every single date over the last few years, and they all had personal accounts of the day. Some were nice, detailing times I spent with Harris, Aubrey, Mia, and Wren, but others were… quite the opposite. There were a lot of mentions of my Mom and someone named Lauren. They don’t seem like very nice people.] Stanley glanced at the Narrator who nodded along as he signed. He took a breath and continued.

[The last entry.. The last two I left detailed this strange person I met with. Apparently they gave me an offer and my final entry was me talking about going to meet them. I didn’t tell anyone about it.] Stanley’s hands paused for a moment. [I think that person brought me into the Parable.]

The room had fallen completely silent. The Narrator thought over everything Stanley told him. He tried to collect his thoughts and especially focused on the last few sentences he signed. 

“Maybe.. We can find that person and figure all of this out, right? We could solve this whole Parable mystery once and for all.” The Narrator looked up at Stanley, and he nodded back at him.

Stanley’s heart sunk a little about the thought of it, and the Narrator’s truthfully did the same. Finding the person may be impossible, but finding them might also lead to the pair of men being trapped inside the Parable again. Dread spread across both of their faces as they looked down at their laps. It was good to talk about that and possibly plan to find them, but maybe now wasn’t the time. The Narrator coughed gently.

“Well.. I am sure we can worry about that later, right? Today is for us to just relax. We should just do that.” The Narrator smiled encouragingly at Stanley, and Stanley smiled and nodded back. That was an amazing idea, and he definitely didn’t want anything more than that.

Despite agreeing with the Narrator, starting to eat again, and listening to the Narrator ramble about his stories, Stanley’s mind wandered back to the stranger. He couldn’t even describe them, so how would he know if he saw them again? The entire situation and interaction seemed so impossible, but so did the Parable as a whole. Stanley should have known to always suspend his disbelief about anything surrounding the Parable.

He gently shook the thoughts from his head as he ate another bite of his grilled cheese. He smiled and looked back at the Narrator as he started to discuss an upcoming plot point in his story he was planning.

For now, it was just them. They could relax for a little longer. There was no point in worrying about the future yet. Stanley smiled and laughed as the Narrator made a small comment. Yeah. Everything would be okay right now. Everything would be okay.

The Narrator helped Stanley to clean up his dishes and the pan he used. Stanley put on some music for them so they worked in the comforting sound of pianos under the Narrator’s request. They wore gentle smiles on their faces as they cleaned side by side. Stanley kept repeating to himself at everything would work out and be alright. If he said it enough, it would have to be true.

“I think I might write a bit more today if you would like to help, Stanley.” The Narrator spoke up as he dried off the pan he used to cook the grilled cheese. “Or if you have other plans than that is fine as well.” Stanley thought for a moment and nodded.

[I would love to help you, but I am planning on cleaning up the office upstairs as well at some point. Just to tidy up the books everywhere.] Stanley smiled gently and put his hands back in the sink to continue to wash the dishes.

“Oh that is probably a good idea. Will you need any help?” The Narrator returned the pan to it’s spot under the stove. Stanley shook his head.

Stanley, of course, did intend to put the diaries away, but he also had another plan. He knew he should've told the Narrator the entire truth, but he didn’t want to worry him too much. He didn’t want to cause the Narrator any more pain either. Stanley wanted to check his laptop as well. He passed out before he had the opportunity to see if the email was still there. It wouldn’t hurt to quickly peek to see if it was there. It would prove everything was real. That was all he needed.

“Alright, Stanley. You know I will be down here and happy to help if you need it.” The Narrator smiled at the man beside him, and they returned to listening to the calming sound of the piano music playing through his phone. They finished cleaning up after a bit longer and soon walked to the living room together.

The Narrator settled down on the couch and looked between his notebook and the novel on the table. After a moment, he gently picked up the notebook. He said that Stanley could help him with it after all. He wouldn’t want to let him down if Stanley was excited about it.

Stanley brought the phone to the living room and set it down on the table before he laid against the Narrator to look at what he had of his story so far. Even though he was desperate to see what secrets the laptop held for him, he still wanted to spend some time with the Narrator. The Narrator deserved it.

“Would you like me to read out everything we have so far? That might be a good place to start.” The Narrator looked in the journal and opened to the first page. “It has been a while since he worked on it after all.” Stanley rested his head on the Narrator’s shoulder and nodded gently. He was sitting next to him, but he wrapped his arms around the Narrator’s waist and cuddled close to him.

“Alright, alright. Let’s get started then.” The Narrator cleared his throat. “This is the story of the ocean and the beach.”

Stanley happily listened as the Narrator read his story out loud. He could listen to his voice for hours, for days, and he had multiple times. It never got old to him, and he swore it never would. The Narrator’s voice was without a doubt his favorite sound in the entire world. Stanley kept his eyes shut as the Narrator happily talked about his story and verbally inserted new sentences or words. They got to the end of everything he had written after several minutes.

“Alright.. Now where do we go with it? Do you have any ideas Stanley?” The Narrator glanced at his shoulder to see Stanley. He took a moment but nodded gently.

[You should have the ocean give the beach a gift. Maybe like.. A really beautiful shell or a boat or something.] Stanley hummed gently as he signed. [The boat might be better. Like the beach can fully visit the ocean in it.] A large and bright smile spread across the Narrator’s face.

“Stanley! That is an amazing idea! The ocean brings the beach a boat for it to visit the ocean, but the beach cannot get in it.” The Narrator immediately uncapped his pen and started to write where he left off. Stanley smiled wide and kissed his cheek gently. He loved his excitement and joy so much, almost as much as his voice.

The Narrator received a bit more feedback from Stanley, before Stanley finally decided that he should head to the study. He really loved the Narrator’s stories, but his curiosity was growing larger and larger. Stanley let go of him gently and stood up slowly with a stretch.

“Heading upstairs to clean up the study?” The Narrator glanced up at him and received a nod in response. The Narrator smiled gently and nodded back. “I will be down here if you need anything, so please, please do not hesitate to grab me if you need help at all. I would be more than glad to help organize.” Stanley smiled wider, pecked the Narrator’s cheek, and left the living room.

Stanley carefully walked up the steps and stared at the office. He took a deep breath and entered the room. He stared at the journals on the floor but quickly focused his attention on the desk. The thin silver device sat there still, almost teasing him. It had the secrets of everything inside of it. The email the stranger sent him was there. He took a step closer but stopped himself. He would clean the journals first. He had to.

Stanley looked through the journals carefully and sorted them on the shelf they came from. He organized them in order of the dates they were written. All of the books were away, all of them except the final journal. Stanley wanted to keep it for reference, just in case. He set it on the desk and then his eyes focused on the laptop again.

With slow steps, Stanley approached his desk fully and sat down in the chair. The closed laptop sat in front of him, and he just stared at it for a moment. He didn’t know why he was so hesitant to open the screen. After a long, deep breath, he finally opened the laptop up and stared at the black screen.

A moment passed as he just stared at the blank screen. Oh, right. He had to turn it on. That would be a good idea. His finger navigated to the power button, but the screen turned on, or rather white text spread across it.

‘Hello again.’

Stanley’s breath caught in his throat upon seeing the text. His heart rate started to pick up at the sight as the text spread on the screen, cleared, and more started to appear. No.. No.

‘It's nice to see you again.’

Stanley’s throat tightened as he watched the text appear on the screen before going away. His body was trembling before he even noticed it was. More words started to appear, but he slammed the screen shut before he had a chance to read anything more.

No. No. He had to still be out of it. Maybe he was still dehydrated, or he needed more sleep. Him passing out definitely did a number on him if this was what he was imagining. He came up with the name Timekeeper for the entity, but it was supposed to be in the Parable. It was left in the Parable.

Stanley took a deep breath. He shut his eyes for a moment before opening them. He ran his hands down his face to try to wake himself up more. Stanley stared at the shut computer before he opened it up again slowly. Everything would be back to normal. The computer would open with a place to put a password, but of course the screen was black for a moment before more text appeared.

“I’m going to keep this train rolling.”

“The Stanley Parable cannot end. It can only spiral in on itself, forever.”

Instead of shutting the laptop completely this time, Stanley watched on in fear. It was real. The Timekeeper escaped with them. The text disappeared again, more starting to come on the screen, but Stanley shut it once again before he read anything else. He couldn’t take this. He picked up the laptop and carried it out to the hallway. 

He found the metal bookend that the Narrator used to break their bedroom doorknob, which still remained broken. He picked it up, set the laptop on the floor, and repeatedly stabbed and beat the bookend into it. The metal cat stabbed through the screen of the laptop, and Stanley quickly flipped it over and pierced the bottom. He destroyed the motherboard, opened the laptop, and continued his attack.

The Timekeeper wanted to bring them back to the Parable. Stanley knew they did. He couldn’t let it happen. They couldn’t go back. It didn’t matter how hard the Timekeeper tried, he could not let it happen.

“Stanley?! What are you doing?” The Narrator heard the commotion upstairs and came rushing up the steps. He looked over and saw Stanley hunched over the destroyed laptop on the ground with the metal cat bookend raised in his hand. The Narrator froze as Stanley slowly turned his head to stare at him.

“Wha.. what happened?” The Narrator took a slow step forward to close to gap between him and Stanley. Stanley bashed the bookend once more in the keyboard, several more keys breaking off in the process. The Narrator jolted from the harsh movement and stared on in horror.

[The Timekeeper. They’re back.] Stanley signed slowly, so the Narrator could understand. He was met with a few, long moments of silence.

“The Timekeeper..? No.. We left it in the Parable, didn’t we?” The Narrator looked at the crushed computer, knowing the answer to his question. Not that it was the answer he wanted. He didn’t want to believe it. It wasn’t true. 

Stanley shook his head and stared at the pieces of the computer.

[They’re here.]

“W-what are we supposed to do? Stanley.. Oh my god.. What are we going to do?” The Narrator stammered out as he kept his eyes locked on the destroyed laptop.

[I.. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.]

For once, Stanley didn’t have a choice to make. His usual decisions had run out. Throughout all the time he spent with the Narrator, he never didn’t know what to do. He always had a choice at the ready or an idea of what was best to do. But now, he didn’t have a single idea. He was absolutely terrified. He never felt this terrified before. The Timekeeper wanted to bring him and the Narrator back to the Parable. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t.

The Narrator silently watched Stanley. Fear started to settle deeper in his gut. He tried so hard to ignore it or come up with an excuse to make the fear go away. The Timekeeper was just in the computer though, right? It wouldn’t be able to do anything with the laptop destroyed like that.

Right?

Chapter Text

Stanley froze as he stared at the keys, shattered screen, and exposed motherboard on the ground. The realization finally hit him and his body tensed. He lost his evidence. Not only did he lose it, it destroyed it entirely.

He hadn’t even gotten the chance to check if the email was real before he crushed the laptop. There was no way of knowing if any of it was real anymore. Sure, he had the notes he wrote, but seeing the email would solidify everything. Stanley’s hands began to tremble slightly, and he looked at the Narrator.

“Oh Stanley..” The Narrator slowly approached him and outstretched his hand for Stanley to take to help him stand up. He had other plans as he gently gripped the Narrator’s hand and pulled him down to the floor. The Narrator willingly went, and he pulled Stanley into a hug.

The pair stayed together on the floor beside the rubble as Stanley broke down into sobs. Everything was going wrong. Nothing was going right anymore for them. He wanted to do anything he could to make everything perfect for him and the Narrator, but nothing was working for them.

The Narrator gently rubbed Stanley’s back and whispered gentle reassurances to him. He whispered that everything would be alright, even if he didn’t know he was telling the truth or not. The Narrator continued to mumble to him until Stanley eventually did calm down.

Stanley let go of the Narrator and rubbed his eyes from tears. He stared down at the destroyed laptop and sighed gently. The proof was gone, but he still had the journals at least. If destroying the laptop meant destroying the Timekeeper, he would take that any day.

“Are you feeling better now, Stanley?” The Narrator’s gentle voice interrupted his thoughts as he asked. Stanley turned his attention back to him and nodded gently. He smiled a gentle thank you to the Narrator before looking back at the computer.

[We should clean this up.] Stanley’s hands trembled slightly as he signed. The Narrator didn’t comment on it and nodded gently.

“How about.. I clean this up, and you can go downstairs and relax a little? You’ve had a long couple days.” The Narrator smiled softly at Stanley and gently took his hand, kissing the back of it. Despite that, Stanley shook he head. He wanted to stay with him and help. 

Stanley gave the Narrator a look that explained his intentions well enough. He wanted to help, but then they would relax together afterward. After a moment of consideration, the Narrator finally obliged. It would be much quicker to get the job done with two people as well. With a gentle smile, Stanley stood up and went to grab everything they would need.

The Narrator carefully picked up the larger pieces of screen and keys from the ground as Stanley tried to figure out a way to clean up the tiny shards. There definitely had to be a better way than just picking them up individually, and Stanley wouldn’t stop until he found it. He dug around everywhere he could until he eventually found a vacuum tucked away in the corner of the study.

By the time Stanley found the vacuum, the Narrator already finished picking up all the larger pieces and placing them in the trashcan. He looked up at Stanley and the contraption he had, raising an eyebrow at it.

“What is that for?” The Narrator stood up and stepped away from the shards in the carpet for Stanley to do what he needed. Stanley unwrapped the cord and spent a moment to find an outlet. He found one in the bathroom, plugged the vacuum in, returned to the Narrator, and just stared at the machine for a moment. He found the power button and clicked it. It roared to life, the Narrator stumbling back slightly from the noise.

“Good heavens, what is that?! Is it supposed to make that noise?!” The Narrator stared at the vacuum as it whooshed and sucked up the carpet in one spot. Stanley quickly approached it and shut it off again. He looked at the Narrator.

[I think it is yeah. I’ll try to be quick.] Stanley shot the Narrator a gentle smile before he started it again. He went as quickly as he could to clean up the area where the tiny glass shards were. The Narrator stayed back as he vacuumed, watching him with careful eyes. It truthfully took less than a minute before Stanley turned it back off.

“Is everything all picked up then?” The Narrator approached again and ran his hand over the carpet. He didn’t feel anything poking up from the fibers or sharp at all, so he assumed it was successful. A small smile spread across his face and he picked up the trashcan again.

[All clean!] Stanley smiled gently and unplugged the vacuum again. He wrapped the cord back up and returned it to the office. While in there, he glanced at the journals for a moment. Stanley couldn’t help but worry again about the email. If only he could show it to everyone, maybe it would help his friends understand more. Maybe he could connect it back to the sender… Somehow.

“Stanley? Are you coming downstairs?” The Narrator poked his head into the study. He obviously had repeated himself a few times before Stanley heard him. He glanced at the journals for a moment before returning his gaze to Stanley. He noted to himself that he would need to read them at some point. Stanley stared at him for a moment and nodded. The Narrator had a small frown on his face, but it shifted to a smile when Stanley responded. He watched Stanley for another moment before he walked to the steps and down them. Stanley didn’t take long to trail after him.

The Narrator returned the trashcan to its rightful place in the kitchen and glanced at the stove. He considered having another cup of tea, but ultimately decided against it. All he wanted right now was to read and relax with Stanley. Coincidentally, that is all Stanley wanted as well.

Stanley trailed after the Narrator into the kitchen and watched him. After a moment, he tugged lightly at the Narrator’s sleeve to get his attention. The Narrator smiled gently from the gesture and turned to face Stanley.

“What do you need, my dear Stanley?” The Narrator’s smile widened gently as he looked sweetly at the man in front of him. He looked back and quickly signed.

[Read to me?] A sweet, shy smile quickly spread over Stanley’s lips as well. Nothing sounded better right now, and the Narrator couldn’t agree more. He smiled wider and walked out of the kitchen toward the living room, and Stanley excitingly followed behind him.

“I am near the middle of the book, I can give you a quick summary to catch you up to speed. Or I can pick a new story so we can read it together.” The Narrator glanced at Stanley, and they soon made it into the living room. He sat down on what had quickly become his spot and looked at the books on the table.

[You can summarize it. I don’t mind hearing your voice, I don’t care what you are saying.] Stanley grinned and picked the book off of the table. He handed it to the Narrator and sat down, leaning against him.

“Wha-! Stanley! Are you saying you don’t care what I am talking about?” The Narrator looked at him with his usual dramatically offended tone. Stanley just chuckled in response and wrapped his arms around the Narrator, resting his head on his shoulder. The Narrator grumbled for a moment before he sighed.

“Alright, alright. I’ll get started then.” The Narrator opened the book with a warm grin and flipped through a few pages. “In the last few chapters…”

The two men stayed in peaceful company with one another as the Narrator read a chapter and then another and another. Being a narrator, his voice never wore out, and he never had to cough or pause. He was used to speaking for long periods of time, so this wasn’t new. If anything, it provided a comfort for him. The Narrator felt as if he was doing exactly what he should be.

A few more moments passed before Stanley slowly started to shift. Of course, he was starting to get hungry. He already spent as long as he could fending it off. All he wanted to do was to stay beside the Narrator, but his body had other plants. He grumbled for a moment before he gently let go of the Narrator and sat up on his own. Stanley stretched before he slowly got up. His bones cracked in response, causing the Narrator to flinch lightly.

The Narrator glanced up at Stanley once he was all stretched out. Stanley looked down at the Narrator, and he closed his book in response.

“Let me guess.. Are you getting hungry again, Stanley? It is around that time.” His question received a gentle smile and nod. Especially with all of the stresses Stanley had been going through, they were doing a real number on his body. The lack of sleep was one thing, but the constant anxieties were causing him to use up some energy as well.

“Alright!” The Narrator stood up after setting his book on the coffee table. “What would you like for dinner? I would love to make something for you again. You still deserve a break, that is for sure.” The Narrator smiled kindly at him and walked to the kitchen with Stanley beside him.

Stanley followed him, but he wasn’t sure exactly what he would want to eat. Sure, they had a lot of ingredients to make lots of options, but he didn’t want the Narrator to stress about this whole process again. While lunch was fun, it was a bit tricky to handle since the Narrator constantly had to divert his attention to watch what Stanley would say next.

The Narrator looked through the cabinets and Stanley watched over his shoulders as he did. Nothing in particular piqued his interest and he sighed lightly. The Narrator glanced at him as he sighed.

“What’s the matter, Stanley? Nothing interesting to you?” Stanley nodded in response and leaned against the Narrator tiredly. He wouldn’t want to waste time having the Narrator make something if he decided he didn’t even want to eat it. Stanley frowned and broke away from him to look at all the cabinets and fridge again like there would be something new and exciting in them when he did.

Of course, it was the same dried pasta, bread, condiments, and frozen meals that were always there. They would have to go to the grocery store again at some point, but not now. Stanley huffed lightly in disapproval, but got an idea eventually.

[What if I pick something up from one of the restaurants in town? You could try some too.] Stanley looked at the Narrator and smiled softly at him. The Narrator wasn’t entirely interested in trying anything, but it sounded like a good idea for Stanley. It would take the stress off of both of them for the remainder of day. They could relax exactly like they wanted to.

“I think that is a wonderful idea like always, my dear Stanley.” The Narrator smiled. “That way we can just relax again once you get it. I can read more to you as well.” Stanley smiled at that addition. He wanted nothing more than that. Even if they spent the rest of the evening lounging on the couch like they just were, he would enjoy every second of it.

[Perfect then. I’ll just be quick and pick up something from the first place I see. I’m sure it’ll be good no matter what it is.] Stanley smiled and grabbed his wallet from the kitchen drawer. He reached for his keys, but realized he wouldn’t need them if the Narrator would still be at home. Once he grabbed his wallet, he glanced up at the Narrator.

Despite agreeing with the idea earlier, the realization that Stanley would be gone was starting to sink in for the Narrator. He reassured him that it would be quick, but he couldn’t help but worry. What if something happened to Stanley when he was out?

[Are you sure you are okay with me going out?] Stanley gave the Narrator a concerned look. He would be gone for only minutes hopefully, but what if he wasn’t fine with it? He wouldn’t want to leave the Narrator to worry like he did last night. Especially after the scare with the Timekeeper, Stanley didn’t want to cause the older man any stress he didn’t need.

“It’s.. Alright, Stanley. Someone needs to watch the house. Plus, you said it wouldn’t be long, so I’m sure I’ll be alright. I probably won’t even be able to finish making a cup of tea before you get back.” The Narrator thought for a moment. He really wanted to check out the journals in the study as well. Maybe he could take that opportunity when Stanley was gone. The thought turned around in his head for a moment before he spouted it out.

“I want to take a peak at those journals too if that’s alright.” The Narrator smiled gently at Stanley, and he returned the smile. Stanley, obviously, was a little worried about leaving, even with the Narrator’s reassurances. He continued to tell himself it would only be a few minutes he would be gone, and he nodded at the Narrator’s plan.

[You are free to look at whatever you’d like.] Stanley kissed his head gently. He knew he wouldn’t have the strength to talk about the content of the journals himself yet, but the Narrator definitely could read whatever he wanted. Maybe he could understand something that Stanley couldn’t. The Narrator smiled gently and hugged the other man for a moment. A minute passed before the Narrator chuckled lightly at a realization.

“I would advise you to get changed out of your pajamas before you head to town though. I understand they are comfortable, but that might be for the best.” The Narrator smiled and pulled away from Stanley. Stanley looked down and himself and chuckled lightly. He gave the Narrator a small kiss on the cheek as thanks, set his wallet back on the counter, and ran upstairs to get actual clothes on.

It didn’t take long at all for Stanley to come back downstairs. He quickly threw on a pair of jeans and the first shirt he pulled from his closet. Much to the Narrator’s dismay, it was another cat pun t-shirt. This time it said “scratch that” with the graphic of a cat scratching through the word ‘that.’ The Narrator sighed upon seeing it.

“We really need to get you better clothes, Stanley. Something more.. Mature.” Despite his distaste for the shirt, he picked up Stanley’s wallet from the counter and held it out to him. Stanley just chuckled and took it. It tucked it into his pocket.

[They are great. You are just jealous of them.] Stanley wore a wide, goofy smile on his face. The Narrator grumbled something about how he felt exactly the opposite, but the slight grin on his face proved Stanley’s point. The Narrator huffed.

“Just don’t take too long, alright? I’ll probably be upstairs when you come back, so make sure to knock hard enough, so I hear you.” The Narrator smiled gently and Stanley nodded back happily. 

With a small smile and a quick peck on the cheek, Stanley left the Narrator to grab some dinner. The Narrator made sure to lock the door behind him. It would be quick and easy enough, so both Stanley and the Narrator tried not to let themselves get super worried. The Narrator would be alright, and he even had a plan to keep himself occupied. Stanley would be back in no time. Everything would be just perfect.

Once Stanley was gone, the Narrator put a kettle on the stove and grabbed Stanley’s phone to play music. He picked up the book he was reading earlier and dove right back into the story with the usual soft music to fill the space. The silence always made everything feel lonelier without Stanley there. Where he usually played piano music, this time he chose a collection of orchestral songs. Classic music was definitely his go to but this was so delightfully peaceful.

He hummed along to the music as he read and waited. He wanted all the stimuli he could get to distract him from even thinking about Stanley being gone. A small smile spread on his face as the kettle finally started to whistle as the water began to boil. The Narrator poured it into the mug with a teabag from earlier, set a timer, and closed his book with a bookmark.

“Alright.. Stanley’s journals.” He muttered to himself as he picked the phone up to take with him. He had five minutes until the tea would finish steeping, so it was absolutely enough time to get a good start reading the entries. The Narrator was so curious about what those journals held, but also slightly terrified. Stanley certainly didn’t have a good reaction to them, so the Narrator didn’t know how he would react himself. He took a deep breath and started up the steps to the study, music still in hand.

The Narrator gently set the phone down on the desk and looked for the journals. He had a few minutes to get some investigating done, so he hoped he could really get some useful information, or at least get a lead. 

Eventually, he found the shelf they were on and he scanned the spines. The most recent one would probably be the most useful, so he decided to start there. He took it from the shelf and started to flip through it. The Narrator glanced at the desk chair, but decided to stay standing. He would be going downstairs soon enough after all.

Knock Knock Knock

The Narrator looked up from the journal. Was Stanley home already? A smile spread across his face and he shut the journal. It felt like no time passed at all, so he was grateful that the distractions really helped keep him occupied. Maybe he would have to do more like this when Stanley had to leave again. Granted, it was also only around 7 minutes, but he still was grateful.

“Coming!” He spoke loudly enough for Stanley to hear, put the journal back in its spot, picked up the phone playing music, and walked down the steps. He turned the corner at the bottom of them to head to the door and open it, but it already was wide open. 

The Narrator didn’t remember Stanley taking his keys.

“Stanley..?” He hesitantly took a step toward the door before fully walking to it. The Narrator glanced outside and then up and down the street. No sign of Stanley. Shakily, he shut the door. This didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right. He carefully turned the music off on the phone and glanced back into the majority of the house.

He listened for any possible noise in the house, but he could barely hear anything over his own heartbeat. If someone was in there that wasn’t Stanley, he had absolutely no idea what he should do.

“Stanley.? Are you home already?” The Narrator called into the house but received no answer. He stayed near the door for another moment. His body wouldn’t let him move even a step. Before he could think of a proper approach, the timer in the kitchen went off, signaling that his tea was done.

The beeping continued as the Narrator’s feet stayed planted on the ground. After a minute of the blasted sound, he finally found the strength to walk forward and into the kitchen. He turned the timer off, set the phone down on the counter, and slowly removed the teabag that Stanley picked earlier in the day. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and his hands trembled, but he didn’t know why. Clearly, no one was in the house. No one at all. At least, that is what he told himself.

“You know.. I honestly didn’t like this one that much. The sequel is much better.” A voice spoke beside him. The Narrator froze entirely. He slowly shifted his gaze to the source of the voice. He could swear he didn’t see the person there before, but they were leaned against the counter flipping through the book like they had been there for minutes.

They shut the book in their hands and looked at the Narrator. He was completely still and silent. The person chuckled gently, but it didn’t sound right. It sounded somewhat distorted.

“Not much of a talker anymore?” The person set the book down on the counter and tilted their head at the Narrator slightly. A grin spread across their face. Something was off about it. Something was very, very wrong.

The Narrator gently set the teabag down and took a step away from the person. At closer inspection, it was hard to call it a person at all. It had the shape of one, but at the same time it was an uncanny copy. Its hair was pitch black, it wore clothes far too big for its slender frame, and the poses it contorted into were anything but natural. The fingers on its hands were too long and thin, honestly everything about it was too long and thin. Its proportions were completely off, and it towered over the Narrator. The joints seemed overextended at some points even though the clothes tried to hide it.

“I didn’t expect you to be the silent one.” The creature grinned wider. “Aren’t you at least going to greet your guest? I certainly didn’t expect you to be so rude either. What has this world done to you, my perfect Narrator?”

The Narrator stared. He didn’t know what to do. The voice that spoke to him was distorted, sounding like it came out of a busted speaker. The hair on the back of his neck and arms stood up from fear. He had been scared before, but never like this. His chest felt tight as his heart beat against his rib cage.

“W-what are you..!? W-what are you doing in my house..?” The Narrator was backed up against the counter now. He tried to speak loudly, but his voice trembled as much as his body did. If he wanted to make a run for it, he would have to run straight for the door and probably out of it. He tried to weigh his options, but his mind became too foggy and overwhelmed with terror.

“ Your house? This isn’t your house at all!” The voice buzzed slightly as it spoke louder. “You don’t belong here, Narrator. You and I both know it. Your real home misses you. You abandoned it!” The being took another step closer to the Narrator, the grin now completely gone.

“I-It is.. You..” The Narrator pushed himself further back into the counter and glanced at the door. If he wanted to run, he would have to now. Before he got the chance, he felt cold, long fingers wrap around his neck. The Narrator’s gaze slowly returned in front of him.

“Don’t think about it. Not even for a moment. You aren’t escaping again, Narrator.” The smile returned to the creature’s face as its fingers tightened slightly around the Narrator’s throat. “You’re coming back home with me.”  The Narrator opened his mouth to speak, but the fingers only gripped tighter. They were freezing and far too bony.

His voice completely fell silent. The pressure increased on his throat and windpipe. He swallowed hard once he shut his mouth again, and the tightness around his neck caused even swallowing to hurt. Tears started to prick in the Narrator’s eyes as the creature looked down at him with lifeless black pupils. It brought another hand up and gently rubbed the back of a finger against the Narrator’s cheek.

“I didn’t realize how much I loved hearing you be silent. You should preserve that beautiful voice. You’ll need it a lot more soon.” The creature grinned wide. The Narrator felt another shiver go up his spine as tears started to spill from his eyes.

He realized earlier what the creature was referring to, but now it was becoming more and more clear. He couldn’t go back, he couldn’t. The Narrator quickly tried to weigh his options of what to do. He already knew he stood no chance in fighting the thing, but he wouldn’t, no, couldn’t give up that easily. Stanley needed him. 

Stanley needed him.

In a quick moment without much thought at all, the Narrator kicked the creature in the leg. The pain caused it to make a static noise and take its hands from the Narrator’s neck and cheek. Now freed, the Narrator scrambled and got away from it, sprinting to the door. His heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he stared at the door ahead. He could get out.

He only got halfway to the door before something grabbed his shirt collar and threw him backwards onto the ground, sliding him back until he hit his head on the table in the corner. The plant on the table wobbled but thankfully didn’t fall down. The Narrator groaned slightly from being thrown and hitting his head.

“What was that little stunt for, Narrator?” The creature’s loud voice buzzed more consistently now as it glared at the Narrator on the ground. The Narrator’s chest heaved as his brought his eyes up to see it in front of him. His head started to pound again from the static noise. He quickly tried to consider more options.

Come on.. Come on think of something. You need to get out. You need to be there for Stanley.

The Narrator stumbled to stand up, but he blanked once on his feet. The being stood between him and the door, so he couldn’t easily get out. His heart beat continuously in his ears and his breathing was heavy. He kept his eyes on the creature before he shakily tried to take a step back, bumping into the table again.

“There is no point in running. You can’t escape. So stop…” The being took a step closer to the Narrator. The Narrator backed further up, knocking the plant over in the process. The pot fell to the ground and shattered.

“Fucking…” It grabbed the Narrator’s shirt, and he flinched under its grasp. It slightly lifted him off of the ground and the Narrator gripped onto its arm. He tried to kick at it again to let him go, but he couldn’t land any hits quick enough.

“Running!” The static was overwhelming as the being took the Narrator and threw him against the wall across the hallway. His head banged and bounced off of the surface, a shout of pain escaping his lips. He slumped onto the floor as his vision became spotty. The Narrator’s head rolled slightly to the side, and he glanced at the stairs beside him. He could get up and run. Maybe he could get out through a window on the second floor.

The creature soon stood in front of the Narrator and held his chin in its cold fingers. It forced the Narrator to look up at it through dazed eyes. His vision faded as he wavered in and out of consciousness. The being glared down at him. The too wide smile was definitely far gone now. The lifeless, shineless eyes stared into the Narrator.

“When will you learn your lesson? This world isn’t for you, Narrator. I’m taking you home.” The smile faintly returned as the Narrator’s eyes fluttered shut briefly. 

They stayed closed for a moment until they shot open. No. He had to stay here for Stanley. 

The Narrator weakly tried to push the being’s hand away from his chin. His brain rattled in his skull from the slight movement, and he tried to push himself to stand up. This time, the being didn’t stop him. Instead, it just stood up and walked to the kitchen.

The Narrator watched as it walked off, and he turned his head to the door. He heavily leaned onto the wall as he took a shaky step forward. His head spun with every single stumbling step, but he had to keep going.

Stanley needed him.

He leaned against the wall and breathed heavily as his pulse overcame his ears. Stars faded in and out of his vision, but he was getting closer to the door. He was only a bit away. A few more steps and he would be free.

Suddenly, a sharp pain hit the middle of his upper back. A gasp escaped his lips as his steps faltered, and he fell to the ground. He felt a growing warmth from the source of the pain as he laid on the floor. The Narrator tried to push himself up again to stand, but his body shook far too hard.

“I told you to stop running, Narrator.” The static voice spoke behind him, but the Narrator could barely hear it anymore. He felt more lightheaded than ever, but he kept trying to push himself up. 

Stanley needed him.

The thing causing the pain in his back was removed before he felt it sharper once again a little further down. This time, a shout escaped his lips as he once again fully collapsed to the ground. The warmth spread further on his back and the pain quickly overwhelmed his entire torso.

What was happening to him? With his spotty vision, he tilted his head and rested his cheek against the floor. The cold hardwood felt nice against the burning of his back for one moment until he noticed the faint outline of the utensil in the creature’s hand. 

The knife’s blade was soaked black with a few drops of the thick liquid dripping from the tip. The Narrator let out a shaky breath as the realization finally set in and shook him deeply in the chest.

It all made sense now, didn’t it? The Narrator’s eyes fluttered shut again. He could hear a faint static of the being saying something to him, but no words could be heard. He tried to open his eyes again.

Stanley needed him.

His breathing was fading now, becoming more shallow. White stars were overwhelming his vision, and he was feeling more and more lightheaded.

Stanley needed him.

The Narrator brought his eyes back to the door and shakily reached a hand out. It quickly fell back to the ground as he lost his strength

Stanley needed him.

His breathing slowed further, and his vision went black.

Stanley needed him.

Stanley needed him.

Stanley needed h-

Stanley started the walk back home. It was a quick trip, so hopefully the Narrator would be alright. Plus, he got a little gift for him. He was only gone ten minutes max, and he had both a quick dinner for himself and a wonderful gift for his Narry. It would lift the mood of everything that’s been going on.

A smile spread across his face as he turned the box over in his hand. He held the bag with his food in one hand, but carried the thin rectangular box in the other. On the way back, Stanley stopped at the bookstore and found a really beautiful feathered fountain pen. Immediately upon seeing it, he knew he had to get it for the Narrator. He got a good pot of ink too, so hopefully the Narrator would love it.

He hummed to himself as he walked up the street to the house. Stanley wore a wide smile on his face and looked up at the house itself. He froze as he stared at it, still standing a few houses away. His smile faded rather quickly.

Oh. The door was open. Why was the door open?

Stanley stayed in his spot for a moment before he slowly started to walk up to the house. It wasn’t like he could call out for the Narrator if he was, by chance, outside. Even if he was inside, he had no way to call to him. He glanced around for a moment and then finally approached the door. Carefully, he pushed it fully open, but stayed completely outside and away from the doorway just in case.

After the door was fully opened for a few moments and Stanley heard nothing, he finally peeked inside. Black liquid spread across the floor, a knife sat in the middle of the puddle, the plant in the corner was shattered on the hardwood, and an untouched mug of hot tea sat on the kitchen counter.

Stanley’s breath caught in his throat. It didn’t take long for him to connect the dots. The liquid was blood. The Narrator’s blood. The knife and blood meant he was attacked. Someone came and attacked the Narrator. A shaky sob escaped Stanley’s throat as he remained in the doorway. Tears pooled in his eyes, but he couldn’t take them away from the sight.

What was he supposed to do? What the hell was he supposed to do about this? Stanley slowly stepped inside and shut the door behind him as his eyes stayed focused on the blood on the floor. He had to find the Narrator. He needed him. Maybe he was still inside the house. He didn’t know where else he could be.

Stanley stayed against the door for a moment before he quickly walked into the kitchen. He was forced to go the long way around through the living and dining room to avoid the blood. His body was tense and it shuttered intensely. He couldn’t organize a single, solid thought in his head. He set the bag and box containing the Narrator’s gift down on the counter, glanced at the tea, and quickly grabbed his keys and phone.

Quickly, he walked back through the dining room again and into the living room to reach the front door. As he passed through the rooms, he glanced around everywhere the Narrator could possibly be. Stanley considered trying to search upstairs for a moment, but there wasn’t any blood on the staircase. His heartbeat was picking up. He needed to find the Narrator. He needed him.

“Boy, am I glad you didn’t actually die.” Something rounded the corner connecting the dining room to the living room and followed after Stanley. Stanley froze and looked back at them. He searched every possible corner, there was no way a whole person could hide from him. Especially not of that tall of a stature.

“Could you imagine that? An almost twice dead protagonist. Maybe we can make new endings based off of those times.” A shiver traveled up Stanley’s spine as he stared at the person. They smiled at him, taking a step closer.

Stanley stared for a moment, frozen in fear, before he absolutely booked it through the rest of the living room and out the front door. He didn’t even shut the door behind him and his heart pounded in his chest. He looked up and down the street for only a mere second before he ran toward town.

His shoes clicked against the stone walkway as he sprinted. He knew that voice. Where did he know that voice from? It was oddly familiar and something was definitely off about that person, more than just the fact they were inside his home that is. There was something else. Actually, there was a lot else.

Where was he even running to? Where was he going? Stanley’s pace slowed down, and he glanced behind him. That person wasn’t following him at least, but he realized he didn’t have a plan. Not even a faint one. The Narrator was gone, there was blood in his house, and a stranger was there as well. His vision became blurry from tears.

Stanley attempted to calm his breathing down as he walked into town. He rubbed the tears from his eyes and looked through groups of people for any sign of his Narrator.  He tried to forget the blood he saw in their house. He tried not to remember the knife on the floor. He just needed to find the Narrator, or at least a sign of him.

His heart was beating out of his chest as he took shaky steps further into town. People glanced at him as he passed by. Stanley was a wreck. His hands were trembling, he was breathing hard, and his steps staggered slightly. Despite how he looked, no one paid that much attention to him. Just a glance and a walk past.

Stanley looked around. He had no idea what to do. His heart was racing, and his brain was struggling to collect its thoughts. The Narrator was gone. He had no idea where the Narrator was. How would he even find him? He couldn’t call out to him or ask anyone else for help. No one would understand him.

“Hey! Where are you going?” The familiar voice rang out from behind him. Stanley’s breath caught in his throat and he turned around to look at the source of the voice. There was that person again. A smile spread across their face once Stanley noticed them. Stanley stumbled and took a step backwards away from the person.

“I just want to talk to you, Stanley.” They continued to walk forward and started to close the gap in between them and Stanley. His heartbeat thumped against his chest and he quickly made a run for it again. He ran between groups of people, them all curiously staring at him as he sprinted by. All he could do was run.

That voice. It wasn’t right. There was nothing right about it. It sounded almost grainy, but Stanley didn’t know if that was his heartbeat interfering with his hearing. As the person spoke, it seemed like their mouth lagged behind their words, like they weren’t saying them at all. Stanley had to be imagining it.

But what they said… They talked about him almost dying, him being the protagonist. Stanley continued to run, but he stumbled slightly, almost tripping. He quickly caught himself and sprinted forward, but even quicker became stuck in his thoughts for another moment. How did they know this? How did they know any of it? How were they in the house when Stanley already checked the entire downstairs without noticing them?

Stanley became so trapped in his head that he tripped over himself and fell flat on the street. He managed to catch himself with his hands before his head hit the ground. He immediately felt the impact on the heel of his palms and his knees. Stanley hissed from the pain and sat back on his legs.

“Hey, are you alright?” Someone stopped walking and glanced at him. The stranger put their hand out and helped Stanley stand up. Stanley nodded quickly, and started to sign. 

[Yes, but please help me! Please! There is someone-] His hands paused once he noticed the confusion starting to form on the stranger’s face. They didn’t understand him, of course they didn’t.

“Are you running from someone.?” The stranger glanced around once Stanley stood up. His legs were trembling. “You seemed to be in quite the rush. Is everything okay?” Unknowingly, the stranger set him up for failure. Stanley nodded, the stranger thinking he was answering the second question. He caught it and attempted to correct his mistake, but the stranger continued.

“Oh I am glad.” The stranger smiled at Stanley. “I would say not to run through these streets though. Today is pretty busy, you might bump into some people if you aren’t careful.” With that, the stranger flashed another smile and kept walking.

Quickly, Stanley turned to face them and tried to sign, but their back was already facing him. He reached his hand out to get their attention again, but they were already a few steps away. Stanley’s heart sank into his stomach. His hope of help was gone. He was alone. While watching the stranger walk away, he made eye contact with the person from earlier.

They smiled at him and opened their mouth to speak. There was far too much distance and too many other people between them that there was no possible way Stanley could hear them. Despite that, the person continued to seemingly speak. Stanley turned and ran.

He had no idea where he was going or what he should do. His chest heaved with each and every breath. After running for several more minutes in and out of streets, he reached the outskirts of town and slipped into an alleyway. He leaned back against the wall and tried to catch his breath. What was he doing? For once, he didn’t know what he was doing nor what he should be doing.

He needed the Narrator. The Narrator always helped him. He would give him the options, and Stanley would pick the best one. He needed the Narrator. He was smarter than Stanley was, he knew that clear as day. Where was the Narrator?

Stanley knew the Narrator would probably tell him that he had the choice to call for help or to investigate everything on his own. Maybe he would give Stanley the confidence in his ability to figure out what happened. The Narrator made everything better. He needed the Narrator.

A shaky breath escaped his lips and he leaned his head back into the wall as he thought. His heartbeat did the opposite of calming down, and his breathing was picking up again. He felt a squeezing in his chest and his body felt weak. His head started to pound against his skull. 

The panic was setting in again. He brought a hand up to his head and gently gripped the side of it. He tried to tell himself to relax, but he couldn’t fight back the anxieties growing from his chest. The Narrator was gone. He had no idea where the Narrator was nor did he have a clue of where he might be.

Stanley couldn’t let himself accept the possibility that the Narrator was dead. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. The Narrator couldn’t die. He had to be out there somewhere. Stanley just needed to find him.

Stanley’s knees felt weak, so he let himself slide down the wall to sit down on the ground. His thoughts and questions started to pile on top of one another and on himself. His breathing became something close to a pant, and he felt like he was having a heart attack. He felt like he was going to die.

Without the Narrator, he may as well die. He needed the Narrator with him. Stanley couldn’t be without him. They needed one another. Stanley needed the Narrator. Without him, he was lost. He needed his Narrator more than anything.

Stanley sunk his face into his knees as tears threatened to escape his eyes. He gripped his hair tighter as his body trembled. His ears rung, and it made it impossible for him to hear the approaching footsteps.

A hand weighed down on Stanley’s shoulder and he froze. The coldness from the skin soaked through his t-shirt. Stanley didn’t move for a moment, but he finally slowly lifted his head.

The person from earlier smiled at Stanley. Their smile was too wide, their skin too cold, their eyes too flat. Their grip on his shoulder tightened. Stanley wanted to sink further into himself, but the grip held him in place.

“I wouldn’t advise running anymore, Stanley. I can guarantee it isn’t worth the pain. Just come along easily and everything will be alright.” Their speech sounded wrong. Everything sounded fuzzy. Their mouth didn’t seem to match up with their words. Stanley’s body shuttered. He needed to run. He needed to keep running.

Stanley’s body was weak. All he wanted was to give up and lie down, but he knew he couldn’t. He needed to find the Narrator. Quickly, Stanley shot up and stumbled to get proper footing. The person reached to grab his ankle, but Stanley sprinted further down the alley before they could. He couldn’t run into town again, so his only option was to ran into the woods.

“You can’t keep running, Stanley! You’ll have to give up at some point!” The voice echoed after him, but Stanley’s legs didn’t stop. They burned, and his knees ached, but he couldn’t stop. He knew he couldn’t.

Stanley darted around trees and tried to navigate over fallen logs. His mind was spotty, his vision was blurring, and his body was giving up on him. He tried his best to keep himself running, but his legs failed him, and he fell to the ground. He laid amongst the leaves for a moment in an attempt to catch his breath. He couldn’t stop here. That person was probably still following him.

Shakily, Stanley pushed himself up to stand again. His legs burned and he took another step. He panted heavily, his heart pounded against his ribs, but he couldn’t give up. The Narrator needed him. He needed to find the Narrator.

He took several slow steps. Only then did it hit him that he didn’t know where he was. Stanley looked forward into the woods before turning his head from side to side. He couldn’t even see the town anymore. He was lost. He was lost, weak, and at his wits end. Tears fogged his vision and he turned back around. Maybe he would see the town back the way he came.

Of course, the person stood mere meters away from him. A smile stretched across their face, and they took a step closer to Stanley.

“I said not to run, Stanley.” Stanley’s heart rate picked up again in his chest. He could hear every single breath he took in his ears. He took a step backwards, but he tripped. Stanley fell back onto the ground and tried to back himself up further, bumping and pushing himself onto a tree. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked at the person in front of them.

The more he looked, the more Stanley realized how much the person didn’t look like a person at all. The smile the.. Thing wore was far too wide. It revealed seemingly human teeth, but it seemed like there were a few more than there should be. Each step the creature took was wobbly, and it seemed unbalanced despite how quickly it was able to approach Stanley.

Its knee extended further backwards than it should as the creature stood a bit more than a meter away from Stanley. Instead of grabbing Stanley, the creature put both of its arms out. Both of them were far too long for its body. Everything was wrong and disproportionate. Stanley stared at it with wide, fearful eyes. Its head cocked down and stared at Stanley with lifeless eyes.

“Do you like this form I created, Stanley?” The voice that came from the body sounded distorted, much like it was playing through an old speaker. The mouth moved, but it only mimed along to the words that played through it. A crooked, too wide smile spread across the person.. Thing’s face. It kept its arms out for a moment before they fell down.

“The Narrator could do it, so I knew I could too. I was under a bit of a time crunch, but I think I did excellent.” The creature grinned at Stanley but kept the distance for now. Its shoulders drooped, and the hands landed much further down than they should have. It was like a human was stretched slightly, and everything deeply disturbed Stanley.

Stanley backed himself up further into the tree. His heartbeat rung in his ears. Nothing about this was right. The thing took another short staggering step toward him. It barely seemed balanced on its legs, the joints seemed overextended in some places, and that damned smile was too wide for its face.

Most importantly, it knew the Narrator. It knew the Narrator and it knew Stanley. If he was able to think straight for even a moment, he would have been able to draw a meaningful conclusion. For now, he was left with fragments of quick judgments.

The Timekeeper escaped. And it was right in front of him.

Stanley attempted to collect his thoughts as he stared at the Timekeeper in front of him. Every single thought he had over the last ten minutes ran through his head. He brought his trembling hands up, his eyes locked on the creature.

[What did you do to the Narrator?] He signed quickly, even short-handing some of his words in his panicked rush. The creature thankfully understood nonetheless and laughed in a way that sounded like a radio breaking up.

“He’s just fine, Stanley. I told you, the wheel must keep turning. He decided he needed to go home.” Stanley felt sick upon hearing the words. His quickly thumping heart sunk into his stomach. The urge to throw up overwhelmed him, but he swallowed it down. He couldn’t take his eyes from the Timekeeper for one second.

“I’m just.. Missing my protagonist.” The smile widened on the face, baring its flat human teeth before the thing took a wider stride at Stanley to fully close the gap between them. The Timekeeper reached its hand out for him, but Stanley quickly stumbled sideways, narrowly avoiding its grasp. He scrambled to stand and quickly took off. Every part of his body burned, but he had no other option.

“I won’t let you go that easily, Stanley. You’re just making this more entertaining for me.” The voice echoed and followed Stanley as he ran as fast as he possibly could. Deeper into the woods was his only option.

Stanley had no idea where he was. He didn’t recognize anything around him and now the town was fully hidden from view. Woods surrounded every side of him, and all the trees looked identical. His breathing was getting harder, his lungs stung, and his legs were becoming more shaky by the second.

His steps started to falter again. His vision began to fade, and he knew he couldn’t keep going. This was it. Before he had the chance to fall, something pushed him hard in the back. He fell down into the leaves and sticks.

“Giving up that easily, Stanley? I thought you would have more fight in you.” Stanley remained face down on the forest floor. He felt the Timekeeper place a heavy foot in the middle of his back.

“I really didn’t expect this from you. The Narrator is out there, and you’re just here, lying in the leaves. Giving up. Oh, would he be disappointed.” The voice buzzed as it spoke. A wide grin stretched across their face again as Stanley attempted to push himself up again. This was nothing but a game to the being above him. 

Stanley pushed his hands into the dirt and tried to push himself up. The foot on his back eased up and eventually was taken off of him. Stanley gasped for every breath he took and slowly lifted himself up. After a few minutes, he got himself up on two shaky legs, the Timekeeper behind him.

“I know you’re urgent to find the Narrator, but I think we should add some extra urgency..” The Timekeeper set a cold hand on Stanley’s shoulder. “You seem to be running out of energy. Do you even want to stay out of the Parable anymore?” Stanley felt something cold and sharp poke into his side.

“Prove that you want to stay out.” The creature whispered into Stanley’s ear with a buzz as a sharp pain stabbed into Stanley’s side. A shout escaped his lips as the pain spread across his entire torso. The Timekeeper let go of Stanley and he stumbled forward.

Stanley brought a hand to where the pain originated and felt an immediate, burning warmth and wetness. Shakily, he took his hand away and looked at it. Blood covered his palm. Stanley started to tremble harder. He covered the wound on his side again before he started with a steady, limping stride. His pace quickly picked up, and he ran on shaking legs.

Every step hurt and stretched the wound in his side. Stanley hissed with each step and tears stayed pooled in his eyes. He hadn’t cried yet, but he was constantly close. This body felt weak, but he couldn’t give up. He was running for so long, but he wasn’t getting anywhere. He glanced to the side and started to head left. Maybe he would get out of the woods somehow.

“Your pace is slowing down again, Stanley! Do you not care? Do you not care about your precious Narrator?” The Timekeeper’s voice followed him and soon was walking right beside him. He barely could process the creature beside him before he felt another sharp, stinging pain in his arm. And then another. And another. Stanley cried out in pain, his steps faltering for a moment.

He didn’t need to look to know the creature took several swipes with the knife at his flesh. He felt blood start to drip from the new wounds, but he had to keep his hand on the larger one on his side. The blood there started to pour from under his hand and soaked into his shirt and pants.

“Now, Stanley.. I don’t think stopping is a good idea, do you?” The Timekeeper wore a massive grin on its face as it watched as Stanley pick up his pace again. He ran on trembling legs like a baby deer, constantly stumbling and nearly tripping. After all, he was nothing but prey.

Stanley fell to the ground. He felt deeper in the woods and more lost than ever. He kept himself propped up on his knees and hand as his chest heaved. His throat and lungs stung as they were more dry than ever. Stanley couldn’t keep running. Stabbing pain traveled throughout his body from his side and arm. His body shook, and he couldn’t take it. He leaned further down and threw up from continuously overexerting himself.

“Wow.. This is it, huh? Giving up for real?” The Timekeeper was behind him again. It was always right there, always a few steps away. “Alright, Stanley.” The creature leaned down and picked up Stanley, putting him over its shoulder. Every part of the being was freezing cold, but Stanley appreciated it compared to the burning in his joints and wounds.

Before he was given the chance to enjoy it, he was thrown onto the ground again. Stanley groaned and curled around himself. He couldn’t keep running. He couldn’t keep doing this.

“Stanley! Pull your shit together!!” The Timekeeper’s voice buzzed louder and glitched. “Are you really giving up that easy? What the hell happened to you?” 

Stanley was given no time to react before he felt a harsh kick in his stomach. He curled harder and shouted out in pain. Stanley could barely move. Every part of him ached and pain spread throughout his body. His head pounded. He wasn’t given a single second to react before he was picked up again by his collar.

The Timekeeper stared into Stanley’s teary and foggy eyes. Stanley was a trembling mess. His clothes were disheveled and covered with dirt and blood. His eyes could barely stay open anymore. It threw him back down, but Stanley was able to catch himself on a tree and stay standing on his shaky legs.

“Do you not care about living?! This isn’t entertaining! It’s pathetic!! You are pathetic!” The voice buzzed louder and caused the pain in Stanley’s head to grow. “Do you not care about anything anymore?!”

Stanley’s chest rose and fell heavily as he stared at the creature in front of him with half-lidded eyes. It was fuming, but maybe it was right. The Narrator was gone. What was the point without him being there? He had friends here, but he needed his Narrator with him. He couldn’t live here alone, and he truthfully didn’t want to.

The Timekeeper glared at Stanley. It was too easy. This was too easy. It didn’t come for an easy process. At least the Narrator was entertaining. It scoffed as it glared at Stanley in his weak, shaking state.

“I don’t want this bland of a protagonist. I used to think you were bland before, but I don't know what.. This is. I’ll find someone else for your Narrator to narrate. Your loss.” The creature stared at Stanley for another moment before it sulked away. It disappeared into the shade of the woods.

Stanley remained against the tree for god knows how long. He was in a daze. The exhaustion was digging into him and the pain spread through his entire body. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, it hurt to think. His hand cupped his injury on his side again. It was still bleeding. A lot. That could help explain how lightheaded he was. 

Stanley peeled himself away from the tree and tried to stabilize himself on shaky legs. He needed help. He needed something to help him. As much as he didn’t want to be here without the Narrator, he knew he needed to be there for when he came back. He needed to be there so he could find the Narrator again.

He could barely get his thoughts together from everything that happened, but he knew the Narrator would need him. If Stanley was dead, he couldn’t help him. Stanley needed to stay alive for the Narrator. The Narrator needed him.

Stanley’s steps were uneven and unstable as he walked in the woods. He had no idea where he was, and he had no idea where he was going. Truthfully, he didn’t know anything. His brain was so foggy with so many overwhelming thoughts that he couldn’t keep any of it in order.

He felt like he was walking for an hour with breaks every so often to lean against trees. Finally, after all that time, he saw the edge of the woods. His pain faded for one moment as he quickly walked to the edge of the line of trees. Stanley stared out beyond the woods. The forest must have wrapped around the town since he saw more buildings. More specifically, he saw one he recognized.

Harris’s house. It was about half a kilometer away, but he stumbled out from the trees and toward the house. Stanley’s body was feeling heavier by the minute, but he was so close. He was so so close. 

Stanley leaned into the door as his chest heaved. The adrenaline carried him to the door, but now he felt like he was going to pass out. The entire chase with the Timekeeper constantly kept him full of adrenaline and on his toes. He slammed his fist into the door and stayed leaning against it.

“One moment!!” Stanley heard the familiar voice inside the house and waited against the door. A moment passed, and the door opened inwards, Stanley falling inside with it. Thankfully, Harris caught him as he fell.

“Oh my god.. Stanley. What happened to you?!” Harris helped Stanley stand up and supported him as he brought him inside.

Stanley’s eyes could barely stay open anymore. He was covered nearly head to toe in dirt, his arm was bleeding from the cuts the being sliced into him, and his side ached from the stab. The blood was drying to his skin and causing his shirt to stiffen and stick to him.

Harris brought Stanley to the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet seat. Harris looked at him, tears forming in his eyes from the sight. Stanley watched as Harris spoke to him, but he could barely hear anything or pay attention. His head rolled to the side slightly, the exhaustion and overexertion getting to him finally. It wasn’t long before his vision went black, and he passed out, slumping against Harris.

Harris was definitely not the strongest of the group, but he couldn’t leave Stanley like this. He didn’t know what happened to him, but hopefully he would explain it after he woke up. His body trembled with fear and anxiety since the moment Stanley walked into his home. Harris grabbed a washcloth, wet it, and started to gently clean Stanley’s cuts and face. He tried to be as gentle as possible as he dabbed the wounds. In the process, he had to take Stanley’s shirt off and noticed the large bruise forming on his stomach.

Stanley looked terrible. Harris tried to be as gentle as possible, but Stanley slowly started to stir again as his friend moved around him. His eyes fluttered open and he looked at Harris. His eyes shut again, but he tried to fight to stay conscious.

“Stanley.. Stanley. Hey. Stay with me. Let's get you into bed. We can get some fresh clothes for you, and you can get into bed.” Harris’s voice shook ever so slightly. Despite nearing breakdown, he had to keep himself composed to help Stanley. Stanley shakily nodded and stood up. Harris supported him and led him along to a bedroom on the first floor. He left Stanley for one moment to get new clothes and some bandages.

When Harris returned, Stanley was sitting up on the bed with his eyes tightly shut. Harris slowly approached him and helped him get changed. Stanley was so weak, and he could barely keep his eyes open. He leaned against Harris as he was the main one getting Stanley’s clothes off and new ones on. Harris quickly worked and took the time to wrap his wounds up as well. He knew that the wounds would take further medical attention, but he had to do what he could for now.

Once everything was done, Stanley fell into bed with a sigh. He was still filthy, but the thought barely crossed his mind. Almost immediately, he passed out. His mind was blank and silent. Too many things happened. He just had to go to bed, and he would wake up next to the Narrator. That’s what he told himself. This was all just a bad dream. 

Harris stared at Stanley for a moment and finally broke down. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he left the room. He left the door open slightly, Matilda immediately noticing and walking inside to provide her comfort to a sleeping Stanley.

Harris walked back to the kitchen and found his phone. With a shaky breath, he called Mia, Aubrey, and Wren and alerted them about the bloody, beaten Stanley that just staggered into his home.

Chapter Text

The Narrator’s eyes shot open, rather his vision was available for several moments, and he just now chose to see. He let out a shaky breath, but there was no breath to let out. He felt weightless, but there was no weight to begin with. The Narrator was nothing. He once again wasn’t confined to a small human body. He occupied the void of the Parable and everything inside it. He was everything but nothing at the same time.

His vision focused and there it was. Stanley’s office and his computer. The office surrounded him, but it felt so wrong. It was too open but claustrophobic. He was all-seeing, but there was too much to look at. The walls closest to him were invisible, so he could see into every room in the Parable. The winding hallways and rooms overlapped. He could see everything.

Stanley.

The Narrator quickly looked around every centimeter of Stanley’s office before he checked other parts of the building. Everything was exactly how the pair left it, the only thing missing was Stanley. 

The Narrator screamed. He didn’t say anything in particular, but he just screeched and cried out in agony. His voice buzzed and echoed throughout the long corridors. The lights flickered and the computer monitors blue screened.

He was in the Parable again. He was stuck again. He was stuck without Stanley.

He screamed without anything to hold him back. He never had to catch his breath nor did his throat begin to hurt. Was he screaming for minutes or hours? Time meant nothing here. He screamed until he was sick of the sound of his own voice. Once he shut up, he looked back at Stanley’s office and stared at the empty seat.

The Narrator couldn’t tell if he was thankful that Stanley wasn’t there or not. He needed him. He needed Stanley so badly, but him not being there meant he was still free. Stanley was free. He was still out there in the real world. Somewhere.

All the Narrator ever wanted was for Stanley to be free. He told himself that over and over. Back when they first discussed leaving, the Narrator barely ever considered himself. This was Stanley’s story, not his. He expected to stay in the Parable forever, but now it is different. He tasted freedom. He knew true happiness. He wanted to be with Stanley. He needed to be with Stanley out in the real world.

Stanley was free, but the Narrator was alone. He had no one to listen to him, no one to instruct, nothing. He felt himself quickly reduce to nothing again. First his form was gone, but now he had no one to take in his words, no one to listen to him. It was only a matter of time before he slipped backwards into silence and reduced to nothing. The Narrator would be reduced to nothing but fiction, a story that once was told.

Stanley jolted awake and shot up in bed. The movement caused him to immediately feel a sharp pain shoot through his side. He winced as he scanned the bed for the Narrator, yet he was nowhere to be seen. Nor, Stanley came to realize, was he even in their bedroom. He slumped slightly at the remembrance of what happened the night before. The pounding in his head intensified, and he shut his eyes as he fell back down to lay on his back.

“Mew?” A soft sound came from beside him and the small cat stretched to stand up. The movement caused her to wake up, but she thankfully didn’t seem too angry. Stanley turned his head to face her and opened his eyes slightly. 

Matilda sniffed his nose for a moment before crawling onto his chest. Stanley winced but didn’t dare to swat her away. He just accepted his fate and tried to relax. Despite his best attempts to calm down and maybe get some more sleep, he couldn’t do anything close to it.

Stanley thought of the Narrator and his brain would not let the man go. He was gone. The Narrator was sent back to the Parable. Stanley’s body shuttered, and he couldn’t stop a sob from escaping his lips. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to pet Matilda to calm him down. Needless to say, his attempts were fruitless.

Stanley eventually gave into his misery and stared at the ceiling as tears rolled down his cheeks. The Narrator was gone. Stanley was alone. All Stanley wanted to do was to curl into a ball and disappear. The Narrator was back in the Parable and Stanley was all alone.

He didn’t want freedom to be like this. He never did. Freedom was supposed to be the both of them happy together and able to live their lives in comfortable company. This wasn’t that. Not at all. Stanley gently moved Matilda and curled on his side. The wounds on his arm and side were on opposite sides of his body, so he just curled onto his bad arm. It was the lesser of the two wounds anyway. He tried to ignore the terrible pain as it stung his arm.

Stanley curled into himself and covered his face as he uncontrollably cried. He couldn’t keep it together anymore. He felt sick with worry. The one person he needed so badly was gone. Sure, he had his other friends who came to his aid, but he needed the Narrator. His Narrator understood him in this scary new world where he friends couldn’t. The Narrator soothed him and kept him close when he needed it. The Narrator always made Stanley feel like nothing could go wrong, but without him, it felt like everything was.

All he wanted was the Narrator, but now he didn’t even know if there was a way to get him out. The Narrator didn’t have a new protagonist, Stanley bet. It was just him there. Alone. The thought caused another sob to escape his throat. No, no, no, no. He couldn’t be alone like that, not after last time.

The thought of the Narrator being alone only instilled more fear and anxiety in Stanley. The Narrator could not handle being alone like that again. The skip ending ripped him into shreds, and he was never the same. Now it was happening all over again. Stanley shut his eyes tightly. He didn’t care anymore if he had to go back. He needed to keep the Narrator company. He would give everything up out here to make sure the Narrator as okay. Even if he was stuck in the Parable, he would be with the Narrator again. That was all he wanted.

Stanley decided he needed to find the Timekeeper. That is what he had to do. He needed to find it and convince it to let him back in. Stanley needed the Narrator, he didn’t care if he was stuck in the Parable again. As long as the Narrator was with him, it didn’t matter. Stanley curled harder in on himself, his side aching as he stretched the wound. He just had to get out of this house somehow.

A gentle knock came on the door, but the person responsible didn’t open it for a moment. It was as if they were waiting for a reaction, but they knew it was unlikely that they would receive one. Stanley pulled the blanket over his head and curled tighter on himself. He needed to plan, he didn’t want interruptions. After a minute of silence, the door slowly creaked open.

“Stanley..? How are you feeling?” Harris spoke softly as he carefully crept into the room. Stanley was nothing more than a lump under the covers that faced away from him. He didn’t make any noise, move, or even acknowledge that Harris entered the room.

“I.. Brought some water and breakfast. We made pancakes.” Harris set the plate and cup down on the bedside table. Stanley still didn’t move at all and Harris frowned. He spoke with a gentle, soft tone. “It would be a good idea to at least try to drink some water. I knew the pancakes would be a stretch.. But I wanted to cover my bases in case.”

Stanley moved slightly, but only pulled the blanket closer to himself. He didn’t want to eat or drink anything, he just wanted to lie there until Harris left. Once he was gone, Stanley could make a run for it and go back to the Narrator. He needed to go back, he needed him. 

Despite Stanley’s silent prayers, Harris gently sat down on the side of the bed.

“I.. I know you probably don’t want to talk about what happened, or probably anything really… But we are here for you, okay? We need to take you to a hospital today, alright? They might ask you some questions, but you need to be honest with them. Whoever did this to you.. Needs to be found and locked away.” Harris looked at Stanley, hoping he would at least look at him. He frowned as Stanley stayed still. With a small frown, he continued to speak.

“The wound.. Looked terrible when I saw it last night. Mia offered to drive, everything would be covered by us, I promise. You just have to cooperate.. Does that sound good Stanley?” Harris tried to smile encouragingly as he spoke gently, not like Stanley even would see the smile. He remained an unmoving lump under the covers.

Silence crept into the room for a moment. Harris sighed gently, but didn’t move yet. Stanley heard his pulse in his ears. He needed to get out. He needed the Narrator so badly, and the Narrator needed him. The thought of the Narrator being alone again made Stanley feel sick. His heart sank into his stomach. He knew the Narrator was losing his mind. How long was he there? How long had he been alone?

“Stanley, please.. I know it hurts, but we have to get you help. Is..” Harris paused. He talked with the others at length last night as Stanley slept. He was never without the Narrator, but now he was nowhere to be seen. They wondered if possibly the Narrator was the one who did this. No one wanted to accuse him of such a thing after he repeatedly showed everyone how much he cared about Stanley, but they couldn’t be too sure.

“Did something happen between you and the Narrator..?” Harris spoke gently as if he would shatter Stanley to pieces if he took one wrong move. Unfortunately, even mentioning him did what Harris tried to avoid. 

Stanley let a small sob out of his throat as he crumbled to pieces. Nothing happened between them except the space, but by god was the space massive and overwhelming. The loneliness was becoming all encompassing. His body started to tremble enough that even Harris could see it under the large blanket.

“Oh Stanley..” He moved slowly and gently set his hand on Stanley’s assumed back before he started to rub it. Harris wanted to pull Stanley into a hug, but he had to resist. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him further. Stanley shuttered and sobbed.

The Narrator needed him.

Harris stayed with Stanley even after he finished crying and tried to convince him to get out from under the covers. It seemed like a fruitless effort for a very long time, but eventually Stanley gave in and sat up in bed. He was a complete wreck, but Harris didn’t dare to even show a reaction to it. Stanley’s face and eyes were red, his cheeks were soaked with tears, and he looked exhausted. He instead smiled encouragingly at Stanley and handed him the class of water from the nightstand.

Stanley still was trembling. His expression was completely neutral and blank despite the tears that dried on his cheeks. He took the water and experimentally took a small sip. Once he swallowed it, Stanley stared at the cup in his hands. He would just have to break away from Harris for a moment to find the Timekeeper. He needed someone to lead him back to his Narrator.

Slowly, Stanley handed the cup back to Harris and attempted to get up.

“Woah, woah.. Take it easy Stan.” Harris quickly got up and helped support him as he stood. The constant running and falling from the night before caused his legs to ache and wobble under him. Stanley wanted nothing more than to just lie back down and stay there for days, but he needed the Narrator. He knew the Narrator needed him too.

“Maybe.. You should stay sitting a bit longer, Stanley. You look like you’re going to fall..” Harris supported Stanley as well as he could, but Stanley wanted to walk. Both of them knew it wasn’t a good idea. “Please just stay sitting for a bit longer. Eat something and drink a little more.. And then we can go to the hospital, okay?”

Harris was grasping at straws, so he nearly cried out in joy when Stanley slowly situated himself back on the bed to sit. He helped Stanley sit down and handed him the water again first. Stanley was still shaky and wobbly, but he drank it slowly. His head pounded, but he tried to ignore it. He just had to cooperate, and then he could find the Timekeeper. It had to be somewhere.

“Yeah.. I don’t expect you to eat everything, just something.. You need to get your strength back.” Harris smiled at Stanley when he held the plate of pancakes out to him and gently set it into his lap. Stanley didn’t make eye contact or look at him in the slightest. He instead stared at the plate and pancakes with soulless, blank eyes. Harris’s smile waved lightly, but it returned when Stanley slowly started to take small bites.

Stanley slowly chewed the pancakes as he stared at the plate in his lap. His thoughts were overwhelming, but he kept his expression blank. Harris kept encouraging him and helping him cut up pancakes when he needed it. Stanley remained silent and didn’t react to Harris’s words. He was busy trying to think of a plan. He needed a plan to get back to the Parable.

Each bite caused him to feel sicker, but he had to eat. As long as he ate, he knew Harris would leave him alone. Stanley ate one pancake but couldn’t physically consume anymore. The urge to throw up overcame him, but he quickly finished his water to keep it down. Harris looked at him with concern.

“I think.. That is enough for now. I’ll get you more water, do you need anything else?” Harris stood up and took the plate and water as he did. Stanley looked up at him, but the urge to throw up quickly was starting to overwhelm him again.

[Bathroom.] He signed and Harris quickly set the dishware down again to help Stanley stand. Harris knew what was happening so he led Stanley along to the bathroom. At least now, he was better on his legs from eating. Once they got there, Harris left Stanley and shut the door behind him to give him the space.

Stanley ran the water in the sink and washed his shaking hands. He splashed water onto his face to try to calm him down further. He gripped the edge of the counter once he was done to stabilize himself on his shaky legs. Nothing was going right. Absolutely nothing was. Stanley ran a hand down his face as he stared at himself in the mirror again. He looked miserable, but a reset in the Parable would fix it all. 

After another moment of calming down and stabilizing himself on his legs, he stood in the bathroom and looked around. His side ached terribly, but he didn’t have time to care about that now. He needed to get out. He needed to find the Narrator again. For once, he was alone so he had no time to waste. Harris certainly would check in on him again, so he had to act quickly and quietly.

His eyes locked onto the window above the toilet. It would be a tight squeeze, and it was a bit high up, but he had no other option. If he didn’t get out now, his friends would take him away and further from the Narrator. Stanley didn’t have time to waste. He needed to get to the Narrator as quickly as possible.

Stanley stared at it for another moment before he took a deep breath and stepped up on the closed toilet seat to give him a height boost. He latched his fingers onto the windowsill and carefully pushed the window up upwards and open. Stanley remained standing on the toilet for another moment before he lunged forward, putting his arms out the window and grabbing the windowsill outside.

The pain in his side shot through his entire body and he gritted his teeth. This was something he had to do, the pain would only be temporary. It would all reset anyway and he would be fine. Everything would go back to normal.

Stanley managed to pull himself out of the window, crashing into the ground beneath him when he did. Thank god it was only the first floor, but now both his side and head ached from maneuvering out the window and the fall. He didn’t have time to recover. He had to find the door again.

Using the side of the house as support, Stanley stood up again on his feet. He took only seconds to stabilize himself before he started to walk away from the house. He sunk away behind other houses and walked shakily out of sight. He couldn’t risk the others finding him and taking him away from his plan. Stanley wouldn’t let himself be stopped.

The Narrator needed him.

Stanley stumbled as he finally approached the stony path leading up to the mountains. He was breathing hard again and the pain in his side returned. He was certain the wound opened up again with all the movement, but he didn’t care. Stanley still had his side wrapped up, but he felt a burning heat at the source. 

The pain was becoming too great, and he leaned against the start of the stone walls for a moment. His entire body shuttered in agony and his legs were starting to feel weak again. He barely gave them a break at all from last night, but he needed to keep moving. He needed to find the Narrator.

With a deep breath, Stanley peeled himself away from the wall and started to walk again. His bare feet thumped along the stones with each heavy step he took. Pain shot through his body and his side felt worse than before. He brought a hand and gripped his side, holding the bandages closer to it.

The walk up the path was longer and crueler than Stanley remembered. His steps were uneven, and he wavered slightly from side to side. He considered taking a break against the stone wall again, but he didn’t have any more time to spare. 

The Narrator needed him.

Stanley continued stumbling along down the path. Pain shot through his torso, but he kept going. Soon enough, the door came into view. Stanley’s pace picked up as he ignored the pain. He needed to get inside.

Stanley took a moment to try to catch his breath as he looked up to see how close he was to the door. It had to be only 10 meters away from him now. All the pain in his body immediately dissolved as he made a sprint to close the gap. He needed to get inside.

He finally reached the door. The huge door glared down at him, and it stayed tightly shut. Stanley leaned onto it as his chest heaved. He raised his fist and started to pound it into the door. ‘Let me in. Let me in’ he wanted to plead. Stanley wanted to shout at the top of his lungs for someone to open the door.

The Narrator needed him.

Tears pricked at his eyes as he kept slamming his hand into the hard, cold, metal door. It wasn’t opening, and it wasn’t going to. Stanley knew that deep down, but he still hoped. Maybe if he did it enough, the Timekeeper would become annoyed and open the door. It said Stanley was boring, but this wasn’t boring. It couldn’t call this boring.

Stanley adjusted himself and continued to slam the side of his fist into the door. He wanted to beg and cry for someone to let him in, but his words failed him as they always did. Maybe the Narrator would hear his loud knocking, and maybe he could open the door. They would be together again. That’s all that would matter.

His hand started to bleed from the repetitive banging and knocking, but he didn’t care.

The Narrator needed him.

The Narrator screamed out again. The repetitive banging echoed throughout the Parable. He knew exactly what was happening, but he couldn’t do a single thing. No matter how hard he wanted to open the door, he couldn’t. He had no hands to press the button. He had no protagonist to act out his wishes.

All he could do was scream and beg for the door to open.

“Would you mind keeping it down?!” A voice yelled back at him. A voice other than his own. The Narrator focused back again on the platform and there it was. It stood there with that smug smirk as it stared at the ceiling.

“Please, please! Open the door, please! Stanley is out there, I know he is!” The Narrator begged. He was still screaming, but he was more desperate than he ever let himself be before. “I know he is out there, please open it and let him in! He’s hurting himself!”

“Let him in?” The Timekeeper smirked wider. “You want me to let him back in to this? You want him to suffer due to your own selfishness?” With that, the Narrator’s voice silenced immediately. He made not even a whimper, so the Timekeeper took it as an opportunity to continue with a massive grin on its face.

“You really want to bring him back into this hell? The unending cycle of life and death? What was it you said..? Ah right, the end is never the end. I guess you were right because here you are.” It leaned against the table with the on and off buttons. 

“And you said you loved him.. Well you never actually did, did you? Just small gestures and broken promises. I guess it makes sense you want him here then. You are just dependent on him, aren’t you Narrator? I bet you wouldn’t even care if I took another person and shoved them in here. You just want someone to listen. You don’t even care about Stanley.” The Timekeeper heard a shaky breath from the Narrator, but continued to push his buttons. It wanted a reaction. It wanted a show .

“I bet you really don’t love him. You don’t care about Stanley at all .”

“I DO! I love him, I love him so much. I care about him more than anything else. And he feels the same about me!! That is why he’s here! Please, please let him in please. He wants to come in. He’s hurting himself!” The Narrator cried out and sobbed. No tears flowed, but his voice wavered and shook. The Timekeeper only grinned.

“So you are selfish? I couldn’t imagine claiming to love someone but wanting to trap them into a place even you dread. You just want him to keep you company! You don’t care about him and his wishes or his real friends!” The Timekeeper smiled as it shouted back at the ceiling.

“B-But he wants to come in! Why else would he be doing this?! Please-”

“God your voice is annoying.” The Timekeeper spoke up as it pulled out a small monitor from seemingly nowhere and muted the audio from the Narrator. The words immediately ceased. “Now if you don’t mind me, I have some things I need to get to.”

The Timekeeper turned on its heels to head back the way it came, but it froze. Now, it wouldn’t be fun to just leave the Narrator unable to speak. Sure the Narrator put on a show, but it wanted to leave him with something more.

“By the way, I don’t think you would want to see Stanley right now. I am not sure if a reset could fix the damage he went through.” It shot another giant grin at the ceiling before disappearing back the way it came and clipping out through of the wall.

The Narrator was silent, but he didn’t have the option to be anything else. Before he was speaking without being heard, but now he couldn’t say a single thing. He didn’t have a form, he didn’t have a protagonist, and he didn’t have a voice. The whole point of his existence was to narrate, but he couldn’t even do that.

He tried to ignore his own existential dread, and instead he thought about that the Timekeeper said. Stanley was hurt. Someone hurt Stanley, and he was sure the creature did it. He wanted Stanley more than anything else. It wouldn’t matter if he didn’t speak, Stanley would make everything okay.

But Stanley wasn’t there. Stanley was outside and the banging continued on. The Narrator didn’t even want to try to imagine the state he was in. He sobbed, but no sound was made. What happened to Stanley? Was he okay? The Narrator tried not to think about him. There was nothing he could do about it.

What was the point anymore? The Narrator was alone. Throughout the Parable and even outside of it, there was no proof of his existence. All there was now was stories. The Narrator was a story. While the Timekeeper claimed that his phrase was correct, it didn’t feel as true anymore. The end was the end, and he reached it.

What use was a narrator with no voice? He couldn’t tell stories, he couldn’t speak to his protagonist, he couldn’t do anything, he wasn’t anything. Without a form, without a voice, there was no proof that he was even there. Soon enough, everyone would forget about him and he would never be mentioned again.

The Narrator folded back in on himself even though there was nothing to fold into. He felt himself fall into obscurity. He was alone, and he was certain he would stay alone. No one would listen to him.

The banging seized, but the Narrator wasn’t sure if Stanley had stopped or if he simply stopped listening. He was falling out of existence and this was just another part of it. In complete silence, the Narrator was alone. Next, he would stop existing all together.

Stanley sobbed as he slammed his fist into the door. His skin was broken, and he continued to break it. His exposed, fresh flesh stung as it hit the metal door. Once his right fist was a bloody mess, he started to use the other. The pain in his side grew larger as did the pain in his hands. 

“Stanley? What the fuck are you doing?!” The voice rang out behind him, and he finally heard the collection of footsteps. Stanley didn’t need to turn around to who it was, but he didn’t even want to look. He needed to get inside. All he cared about right now is getting inside. He pounded his fist again and brought it back to repeat it. Before he could slam it back into the door, he was grabbed by his waist and pulled away. 

“Stop! What are you doing? Stop it!” Another voice yelled out from a bit further behind the first. Stanley’s head spun, but he urgently tried to free himself from the arms around him. He kicked and tried to pry himself out of his restraints.

Stanley needed to get the door open. His friends were stopping him. If he could even call them his friends right now. He needed to get back to the Narrator. His foot hit his captor and he continued to try to kick himself free. 

“Cut it out, Stanley! What the fuck are you doing that for?” Wren set him down, and Stanley stumbled slightly in an attempt to balance on his feet. It only now hit him how much his head spun, and his body ached. Despite that, he didn’t want to give up. He took a step toward the door, but he stumbled and fell. Thankfully, his captor grabbed him before he hit the ground.

Wren adjusted Stanley and pulled him down to sit on the stone path. Stanley curled on himself a little as he tried to catch his breath. Everything was blurry with tears and his entire body hurt. His pain seemed to spread to cover every little centimeter of his body. His hands stung from their continued impacts and blood dripped from his knuckles. Even though his foggy vision, he stared at his bloody, red hands.

“Stanley, you.. you ran away. What’s going on? What.. is this place?” Harris kneeled down next to Wren and looked at Stanley. This time, he couldn’t help but wince. He wanted nothing more than to wrap him up and take him to a hospital. He needed to go now more than ever. Stanley looked up at him through half-shut eyes. Everything was spinning. He felt like he was going to pass out.

“Woah, woah stay with us, Stanley.” Aubrey soon was at his side and trying to support him to stay sitting upwards. Mia joined her, quickly taking off her jacket to attempt to wrap his hands even slightly. She needed to get the blood to stop. Stanley was in a daze, he barely recognized anything going on around him.

[The Narrator.. He’s in there..] He collected the strength to move the jacket and sigh, his hands trembling the whole time he tried. Wren, Harris, Mia, and Aubrey’s expressions all dropped immediately. 

“Stanley.. This door hasn’t been opened as long as we have lived here. He couldn’t..” Aubrey spoke softly, but Stanley shook his head so hard he felt his brain hit his skull.

[He is! He is! We came from here and he’s back!] Stanley frantically looked between them all, begging someone to believe him. He was only met with confused expressions. Wren knew what happened to them, but he didn’t know it was here.

“Stanley..” Harris tried to speak gently, but he was cut off as Stanley continued to frantically sign. His fingers and flesh hurt as he moved them so quickly but there was no time to waste.

[He can’t be in there alone! Last time he was, it ended so badly! Please! Please we have to open it!] His body trembled harder as he continued to push himself further and further. There was no time to waste, but his friends didn’t seem to share the same sentiment.

“Stanley, you need to go to the hospital. Your side.. And now your hands..” Mia tried to calm him down, setting a hand on his shoulder. They didn’t understand. Why didn’t they understand?

[Please! Please, you have to help me get it open!] Stanley kept his hands up to sign further, but he froze immediately as he noticed a figure between the trees in the distance. He rubbed his eyes furiously and tried to focus on it. It smiled at him and a shiver travelled up Stanley’s spine. 

His entire body froze as he stared at it. He knew what it was immediately. His friends glanced at him in worry, and it only worsened as Stanley shot up and took a few stumbling steps toward the wall and the trees. His friends stood up to get him to relax again.

[You! Get back here!] Stanley signed as the creature watched him from behind the trees. The smile stayed on its face, and it only widened as Wren approached Stanley and grabbed him.

“Stanley! Settle down! You can’t keep pushing yourself like this!” Wren quickly grabbed a hold of Stanley again, and once again, Stanley tried to break away from his grasp. He still saw the Timekeeper by the tree, and he urgently needed to meet with it. He needed to go back. Stanley shut his eyes from pain as he tried to push away from Wren. He needed to go now to meet with it.

He glanced back at where the Timekeeper was a few moments ago, but of course it was gone. There was no sign of it ever existing in the first place. It got all the information it needed already, so there was no reason to stick around.

Stanley stopped resisting against Wren as he stared at the now vacant space between the trees. He wanted to fall apart, and fall apart he would. His body lurched with another sob as he stared at the trees.

[I.. I need to find a way in.. It knew how to get in..] Stanley’s hands barely moved as he signed. His arms felt heavier than before and his entire body felt weak again. The need to pass out had returned, but he needed to stay awake. He needed to find the Timekeeper.

“Stanley you have to stop. You’re going to pass out.” Wren spoke again, his tone softer than before and definitely not loud anymore. Stanley’s head spun, and he let it drop slightly in front of him. He felt his body lose the strength it once had, but he didn’t want to give up.

The Narrator needed him.

The Narrator needed him so badly, but all he could do was succumb to his body’s limits and pass out in Wren’s arms a bleeding, crying mess.

HOSPITAL TALK BELOW

Stanley’s eyes opened again, but he immediately shut them from the bright fluorescent lights. He laid in a stiff bed with sheets that stung his skin. A small buzzing filled the room that quickly worsened Stanley’s headache. He moved his hand to rub his eyes, but they were thick with bandages.

“Are you waking up? Stanley how do you feel?” Harris’s voice came from beside him and he slowly opened his eyes. His friends were sitting around him as they watched him nervously. Once he opened his eyes and glanced at them, they all let out a small sigh of relief. 

Stanley didn’t respond and instead took a moment to look down at himself. His hands were wrapped up completely to the point where he couldn’t even attempt to move them. He wore a bland looking gown but felt the thick wrappings all around his side. Both his side and hands hurt slightly, but the pain was subtle due to painkillers.

“They had to give you a few stitches in your side, Stanley.” Aubrey spoke softly as she looked between everyone. “Your hands are destroyed so they will be unusable for a bit too. I know that really sucks for you, but there is no other way to let them heal.” She smiled gently to try to lift the mood a bit. It unfortunately didn’t work. Stanley’s face became blank as he stared down at the massive layers of bandages around his hands.

“We.. Went to your house Stanley. We had to get your ID and everything for the doctors and..” Mia’s voice shook slightly as she tried to get her thoughts together. “There was this stuff all over the floor and a knife… What happened?” Stanley shook slightly at the mention. He forgot the house. He completely forgot about it but now the thought of what happened to the Narrator overwhelmed him.

Despite the bandages and the pain spreading across his body as he did it, he curled around himself and buried his face in his hands. Oh, the Narrator. The poor Narrator. He was all alone while Stanley was in a hospital bed. He was healing, but the Narrator was never doing worse.

His friends exchanged nervous glances as Stanley once again started to come apart at the seams. They knew they wouldn’t get a solid answer while he was in this state and his hands certainly didn’t help. Harris took a deep breath and asked what they all were wondering.

“Was that.. Liquid blood? The Narrator’s blood?” Harris carefully tested the waters and the sob he received in return answered his question. The room fell into awkward silence, the air only filled with sobs and the gentle beeping of a machine next door. Mia gently rubbed Stanley’s arm to try to calm him down.

Everyone exchanged worried and nervous glances as Stanley sobbed and Mia attempted to get him to relax. They had no idea what the next course of action was. The Narrator was gone, most likely dead, but they didn’t want to tell Stanley that. That would only break him further and that was the last thing he needed. For now, they could just support him like they had been doing. They had to support him and keep him away from that door.

Doctors came into the room and checked Stanley out periodically as the day went on. Stanley spent almost the entirety of the day staring at the window. He had no idea where the Parable was, but he had to get there. His heart ached nearly as much as his hands did as he stayed sat in that hospital bed. Thankfully enough, he was in stable enough condition to be released at the end of the day.

Unthankfully, he was terribly uncooperative for his entire stay. When the doctors tried to get information from him, he wouldn’t dare to even look at them. His friends tried to encourage him to answer or answer the questions for him, but it all proved unsuccessful. None of them knew how he got the stab in his side or the cuts on his arm so they couldn’t comment on it. Eventually, the doctors gave up all together and decided to just send him home. Neither party would benefit from him staying any longer.

END OF HOSPITAL TALK

As Wren helped Stanley to the car, he stayed as silent and distant as he did for the duration of his stay. His friends tried to talk to him or interact with him, but he never responded. They barely ever got the shake of the head or a nod. In all honesty, Stanley didn’t feel like himself anymore. The Narrator was gone, and he lost a part of himself as well.

His friends kept glancing back at him in the car as they started the ride back home. They were worried about him, but Stanley couldn’t even think about that. His mind was foggy but overwhelmingly full. His concerns about the Narrator occupied his every thought. All he wanted to do was find the Timekeeper. Stanley stared out the car window, hoping it would appear somewhere.

But, of course, it didn’t.

Even as they went back to Harris’s house, there was not even a glance of the Timekeeper. Stanley stood at the window and stared out for hours, hoping and praying he would spot it. All he wanted was to go back to the Parable and this was the only way. Of course, it never showed its face.

“Stanley.. You should get in bed. You need to sleep, you had a long day.” Harris stood beside Stanley and stared out at the lawn. No one knew what Stanley was looking at or trying to look at, but this obsession wasn’t healthy. All of his friends were worried and were quietly discussing what to do, but Harris was the one to actually put it into action. Harris set a hand on Stanley’s shoulder gently to try to pull him away from his thoughts.

[Please.. I can’t. I need to find it. I need to go back.] Stanley looked at Harris with a pleading expression. Stanley was begging at this point. [I need to go out.. I need to find it. The Narrator needs me.]

Harris glanced at him and sighed. Stanley kept talking about this ‘it’ he needed to find, but no one knew what he meant. Even if he wished for whatever that ‘it’ was, Stanley needed to rest and settle down. He was terribly beat up, so Harris couldn’t let him leave again. 

[Please..] Stanley signed again, but he knew he was fighting a losing battle. His body was still exhausted and the events of the past two days were weighing down on him. The mental torture he was repeatedly going through was too much. Stanley sighed gently.

[Please let me go tomorrow. Please I need to find it.] Harris smiled gently as Stanley surrendered. Harris nodded gently, squeezed Stanley’s shoulder a bit more, and led him along to the bedroom.

“Heading to bed, Stanley?” Wren smiled gently at him as they passed by everything sitting in the living room. Stanley shamefully nodded. He felt like he was giving up. He didn’t want to give up on the Narrator so quickly, but he couldn’t keep going. Stanley felt like he would collapse, but he kept his eyes away from Wren and the others.

“It’s alright, Stan. You need to rest after today.” Wren stood up after he spoke. “I am going to run out really quick to get some medication for you. It’ll help with the pain.” He smiled gently at Stanley even though he didn’t even look back at him. Wren’s smile faltered a little, but he got his stuff together and left.

Harris helped Stanley into the bedroom and gave him a pair of clothes they had picked up when they visited his house before. Once again, Harris had to help him get changed due to the bandages on his hands and then helped him into bed. He tucked him in and Stanley immediately turned away from him and curled into himself.

He missed the Narrator. He so badly missed the comforts of the Narrator. Stanley missed his smile, his laugh, his beautiful voice, his continuous support, and every other part of him. He tried to keep himself together, but once again he couldn’t. Stanley wanted the Narrator next to him again. The moment he got him again, he knew he would never let him go.

Harris watched Stanley as he curled up and started to sob again. His heart felt heavy at the sight. Stanley always someone who was happy, so seeing him like this broke him apart. Harris let out a shaky sigh before he left the room and shut the door behind him.

The night continued on and Wren hadn’t returned with the medicine. Hours continued to pass, and it was getting later and later. Aubrey and Mia decided to go out and see if there was maybe a line at the pharmacy that was holding him up. They returned around twenty minutes later with medicine in hand.

“I.. We don’t know where Wren is.” Mia shakily spoke as she set the small bag down on the counter. “He never got to the pharmacy.” Aubrey moved gently, wrapped her arms around Mia, and pulled her into a hug.

“He might’ve gone home,” Aubrey looked at Harris, “He isn’t one to talk about how he feels. It probably is overwhelming, and he needed some time alone. Everything will be fine, honey..” Aubrey focused back on Mia and kissed her head gently. Mia leaned back into Aubrey and relaxed in her arms.

“We can give him a call tomorrow. He just.. Definitely needs his space. He has been through a lot with trying to manage his feelings with what is going on with Stanley, I am sure of it.” Harris smiled gently and rubbed Mia’s shoulder gently to add some additional support.

“I think we all need a break tonight. How about a movie? How does that sound?” Aubrey smiled as she spoke and broke away from Mia. The others smiled at the recommendation. Nothing sounded better. After a moment of collecting snacks, they all went to the couch and found something good to watch.

“HELLO?! WHERE AM I?!” The voice called out and the Narrator felt the energy in the Parable shift. It seemed to come back alive with the additional new person. The voice didn’t belong to the Timekeeper, and it certainly didn’t belong to Stanley. It caused the Narrator’s thinking to stutter for a moment. He recognized it. Somewhere, somehow, he recognized the voice.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!” He continued to yell, and the Narrator made his way over to the office that was once Stanley’s. He was slightly scared of whom he would find, but what other choice did he have? The Narrator focused on the office, and his jaw would have dropped if he had one.

“Wren..?” The Narrator spoke gently in disbelief. In all honesty, he didn’t know if he still was able to. The Timekeeper must’ve given the ability back to him before the new protagonist entered the Parable.

Hearing the voice all around him caused Wren to flinch and frantically look around the office. No matter what direction he looked, there was no one there. Wren’s heartbeat started to pick up in his chest as his panic grew. He had no idea how he got here, why he was here at all, nor where he even was.

“N-Narrator? Where.. Where are you? Where am I?!” His anger was starting to dissipate into fear. He spoke loudly, but his voice shook. While originally on his feet, he had to sit down before his legs gave out under him. Wren gripped onto the desk in front of him. His entire head spun as he tried to process what was going on.

“I.. I am not anywhere. At least not anywhere you can see me.. I am just a voice.” The Narrator spoke hesitantly. He didn’t know how to explain this without causing Wren to panic more. Part of him was so thankful. He was speaking to someone again. Someone was listening to him, but his joy felt wrong. The Narrator shouldn’t be happy about this. Wren put his head in his hands as he listened to the Narrator speak.

“You are.. Inside the Parable. This is the place where Stanley and I were kept for so long. Now.. You are here for some reason. You shouldn’t be here.” The Narrator didn’t know pain in this form, yet it somehow hurt him to say that. He didn’t want to, but he needed to tell him. The Narrator couldn’t keep Wren in the dark about this. 

“Oh my god..” Wren sighed as his brain tried to process everything. Nothing made sense. None of this did. At the end of the day, he truthfully didn’t know what he was expecting to figure out.

“I know.. I know this is terrible. You shouldn’t be here.” The Narrator tried to speak quietly as to not overwhelm Wren’s senses too much. The Narrator didn’t remember how Stanley reacted when he initially came in the Parable, but he knew it had to be something similar to this. Wren was terrified, and the Narrator felt horrible. 

He so badly wanted a protagonist, but he didn’t want someone else to get trapped. His wishes were coming back to bite him in the worst way possible. The Narrator never wanted this to happen. Especially not to one of Stanley’s friends. He didn’t want anyone else to get roped into this.

The entire office fell into silence for a moment. The Narrator had no idea what to do and neither did Wren. Wren stared around the office he was in and eventually stood up to explore a bit more of the office. The Narrator restrained from his usual dialogue and simply watched Wren sneak around and look behind every corner.

“H-How do I get out of there? You and Stanley did it before. How do we do it again?” Wren stopped walking once he got to the room with two doors. He glanced between both of them, not moving forward yet.

“We.. We worked hard to try to find a way to break through the building and the code. This place doesn’t want anyone to be free. The fact we are here only proves it more.” The Narrator tried to collect his thoughts and quickly added. “Through the left door, Wren.”

Wren nodded and went through. He had no other choice but to follow with what the Narrator said. He certainly knew this place better than Wren did.

“Stanley and I tried this ending hundreds or thousands of times. I worked so long and hard to try to organize the ending to work probably.. I can hope the connection still works, but I have my doubts.” The Narrator watched Wren as he walked through the meeting room and to the steps. “Coming to a staircase, Wren walked upstairs to his boss's office.” Wren raised an eyebrow at the weird use of his name but followed the directions.

“So.. This is what you and Stanley really went through?” Wren walked up the steps slowly. He felt like he was still in a bit of shock from the entire situation. He didn’t understand what was going on, and it terrified him, but it didn’t seem like there was any immediate danger. Having the Narrator with him helped to supply a bit of additional comfort as well. He started to understand why Stanley grew so close to the Narrator.

“It is. This building is.. Rather large and complicated. There are lots of little nooks and crannies Stanley would explore, but I would highly recommend staying away from those.. You thankfully seem more willing to listen.” The Narrator spoke carefully and gently. He continued to keep his volume low.

“Was Stanley really that difficult..? Actually no, I know he is.” Wren chuckled as he entered the boss’s office. The Narrator held back the feeling to say his usual dialogue. With a protagonist here, he felt required to continue on with his usual speeches, but he fought his code as much as he could. The mention of Stanley helped him to think about something else.

“Stanley.. How is he.?” The Narrator asked as Wren walked around the boss’s office and explored what was there. The Timekeeper told him he was in terrible condition, but he never could trust that creature anyway. He could trust Wren much more. Unfortunately, Wren’s mood shifted into something a bit sadder.

“Oh, Stanley..” Wren tried to think about how to properly tell him everything. “When.. when did you see him last?” The Narrator immediately became overwhelmed with dread. He forgot about telling Wren the code to the door nor did he open the door for him.

“I saw him.. I don’t know how many days it has been. I saw him when he went out to get dinner. He didn’t want anything in the house so he went out to get something..” The Narrator let out a shaky breath as he revisited the memories. “While he was out, the Timekeeper came in and well.. I..” The Narrator had to stop talking. He couldn’t say another word. Wren sat down on a couch and just listened as he talked.

“I think.. We know what happened. We had to go to the house to get Stanley’s ID, and we saw.. The knife.” Wren spoke gently and heard the gentle sob from the Narrator. Wren needed to tell the Narrator about Stanley, but he wasn’t sure if he could take it. A few minutes passed before the Narrator took a deep breath and spoke again.

“But.. Stanley. What happened to him? The Timekeeper said he wasn’t in good condition.. What happened? Please.” The Narrator’s voice still shook as he begged. Unfortunately, Wren couldn’t answer it all for him.

“We don’t know what happened really.. Stanley showed up at Harris’s house with a stab wound in his side, cuts on his arm, and he was beaten and bruised.. He was covered in dirt and breathing hard. Harris said he was weak and almost collapsed right there.” Wren heard a sob from the Narrator, but he had to keep going to explain everything to him.

“We were going to take him to the hospital, he just needed to sleep first. Harris tried to take care of him the best he could, but in the morning, he left again.. We searched everywhere for him, and we eventually found him at this giant door thing. He was banging his fists on it over and over.. He was bleeding, and his skin was torn..”

The Narrator sobbed out again. That’s why he heard the banging. He knew it was happening, but hearing it said was horrible. He didn’t want to hear more, but he did at the same time. He missed Stanley so much. The Narrator needed him so badly. He wanted nothing more than to hold him closely and kiss his wounds better.

“We tried to pull him away from it, but he kept trying to go back. After that, he saw something in the woods and tried to run to that.. He passed out after he kept begging to go in again.” Wren took a deep breath as he fidgeted with his hands. He was trembling slightly, and he swore he felt the building tremble as well.

“Please… Please, did he end up getting help.? Is he better?” The Narrator sobbed out. He cried no tears, but his emotions were overwhelming. Every part of him was full of grief and guilt. He wasn’t there for Stanley even though he should be. 

“He is.. Kind of. We took him to the hospital, and he got stitched and wrapped up. The whole time, he was so distant. He had been since everything happened. Even as we got home, he kept staring out the window and looking for “it.” None of us knew what he was talking about, but he kept talking about needing to find this “it” and go back here.” Wren glanced around the room again, picking at his nails as he did. “He eventually gave in and went to bed only under the promise that Harris would let him search tomorrow.”

Another sob echoed throughout the office. The Narrator hurt. Every part of him hurt as he learned more and more about Stanley and what happened. He knew that Stanley was talking about the Timekeeper. If it did all that damage to Stanley, the Narrator didn’t want them to meet up again. He loved Stanley, he didn’t want him to get back into the Parable.

But wait.. There wasn’t room for Stanley to be here anymore. There was a new protagonist. Wren was here instead. How.. did Wren even get here? The Narrator stared down at Wren in the boss’s office.

“How did you get here? Did you meet the Timekeeper.?” The Narrator’s voice continued to shake, but it was calmer than before. If the Timekeeper did all the damage to the Narrator and Stanley, he feared what it did to Wren.

“I.. guess I did. I went out to get medicine for Stanley but this really strange person stopped me. Tall, skinny, and everything just seemed off.” Wren tried to think about it, but the thought of it was foggy in his head. His thoughts were interrupted by the Narrator urgently asking him something.

“Did it hurt you? Put its hands on you at all?” He asked quickly. The Narrator was shaken up from learning about Stanley, so he still was on edge now. The damage could’ve been reset as Wren came into the Parable for all he knew, but he shouldn't have gone through it in the first place.

“Only a little. It talked with me and pulled me along somewhere. I tried to get away, but it held onto my shoulder really tightly.. I remember it was freezing cold, every part of it was. I didn’t want to argue with it because I didn’t know what would happen.

“It brought me into the woods and I tried to break away then. I knew something bad was going to happen once we got there. Before I could, something hit me on the back of my head and I blacked out.” Wren moved his hands to pick at the peeling leather couch. “It hurt a little bit, but it went away quickly. I soon woke up here before I knew what happened.”

The Narrator stayed silent for a moment. At least Wren wasn’t treated as badly as he or Stanley was, but it still was absolutely horrible. Why was the Timekeeper doing this? Why was he doing this to all of them? Why did he have to get Wren involved?

“I.. I’m sorry Wren. I really am.. I didn’t want you to get roped into this. I didn’t expect any of this to happen to any of you. Oh, it’s all my fault.. I wanted a protagonist, but I wanted Stanley. I wanted Stanley to come back, but even that was terrible of me. I’m terrible…” The Narrator had someone to listen to him, but this wasn’t what he wanted. This was worse than anything he ever wanted, and it was all his fault.

Wren stared up at the ceiling and around the room for a moment. The Narrator fell into silence again as he succumbed into his own guilt. He felt horrible. Wren glanced at the keypad again. He had no idea what it did, but he needed something to pull the Narrator out of his thoughts.

“Hey, what does this do?” Wren walked up to it and pressed a button at random. He knew the both of them wanted to escape and if the Narrator was silent, he couldn’t help them get out. Wren glanced around and waited for the voice. When he didn’t hear it, he pressed a few more buttons. The keypad beeped from the wrong code.

“The code is 2-8-4-5..” The Narrator spoke sadly, almost as if he was dragging his feet to say it. Wren sighed and pressed the buttons. The room went dark and shook slightly as the fireplace started to raise and open. The corridor was soon exposed and Wren stepped slowly toward it.

Wren finally walked into the corridor and looked around at the unfinished room. He spotted the elevator and stepped into it. He didn’t need instruction to press the button and the elevator started its descent.

“No, no! Do not go down that path! That escape is a false one. You need to go forward into the Mind Control Facility.” Wren froze once the Narrator started to speak again. He was silent for a while so the voice suddenly returning startled him. At least he didn’t sound that sad anymore. Wren retraced his steps and got back on track.

“Why would that exist then?” Wren walked through the Mind Control Facility doors. “It is a bit misleading.” He stepped into the large room and pressed the button, not having any other choices of things to do. As the room lit up, he gasped and looked around in wonder.

“The Parable is built to trick and trap. If you go that way, it would lead to your death. Something about this building loves death and the repetition of it.” The Narrator spoke as Wren continued down the path and pressed the buttons. “I would always try to keep Stanley away from those endings, but he has a mind of his own. You do as well. You are just.. Better at listening.”

“I also don’t have much of a choice. You know this place much better than I do, that is for sure. If I am honest, I am terrified of this place. I want to leave as soon as possible. But Stanley was here for god knows how long, so I am sure he got bored by following the same directions.” Wren took a moment to stare at the hundreds of screens around the room before continuing on the path to press the button for the elevator.

“I must admit, it is weird to have a protagonist that speaks. Stanley would never respond with words. Sure, he would flip me off a few times, but never words.” The Narrator watched as Wren got into the elevator and traveled up. He jolted once it started to move, but settled into it for the ride.

“It’s weird to have someone speaking to me from every direction and I can’t see them, that’s for sure.” Wren chuckled. “It's weird not seeing you in a human form here. I understand the whole “you aren’t human” thing now though. I get that and the Parable.. I suppose we should have suspended our disbelief. I am sorry for not listening earlier and believing you.”

“Mhm.. Thank you.” The Narrator agreed and accepted the apology but became silent again. His human form. How was he going to escape if he didn’t have a form? Fear overcame the Narrator again. He found a protagonist and that protagonist would escape, leaving him behind. He once again would be stuck in the Parable with no one to listen or follow his instructions.

Selfish! The Narrator was being selfish again. Wren needed to escape. He didn’t deserve to be here. If Wren managed to escape, he could make sure Stanley was okay. He could live the life he needed without being stuck for years in this hell.

Wren explored the room with the mind controls for a moment before he walked down to the two buttons. On and Off. He had the power to free himself all again. He hesitated. He didn’t know which one to press.

“The Off button Wren. Free yourself from this place. You deserve to be freed.” The Narrator’s voice shook slightly, but he tried to keep it together. Wren hesitated but pressed it. At that, everything went dark for a moment, the buttons disappearing all together.

The ground started to shake, and the door slowly started to open in front of him. Wren gasped as the sunlight started to pour into the room. He took a few steps forward, but stopped as the door continued to open. The sunlight urged him on, but he stayed put.

“What about you, Narrator? Are you coming?” He stared back in the facility.

“I.. I will come out in time. I can’t just pull my form out of nowhere. It is hidden in the files. I need to reset to find it and put it into the Parable.” He spoke dryly, holding back a cry. “But you need to be free Wren, you don’t deserve to be here, you don’t belong here. Go be free and be there for Stanley.”

The door was fully open now and the sound of bird calls filled the air. They begged Wren to escape and go into the world, but he still didn’t budge. He looked out for a moment before he returned to look at the facility. He took a deep breath.

“But Stanley needs you. I don’t want to leave without you coming with me. I can’t leave you here in good faith.” Wren stared deeper into the building. A sob was heard again, but this time it wasn’t something so terrible. He took a moment to contain himself.

“A-are you sure..? I.. I don’t want to keep you here.” The Narrator’s voice shook, but he tried to keep himself together. Excitement started to push back his fears.

“Absolutely. Stanley needs you. He would beat me to a pulp if I left without you coming too.” Wren smiled gently at the change in tone from the Narrator.

“Alright.. This reset might be a little long.” Wren nodded, and before he could say anything additionally, everything quickly fell to darkness again. 

THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER THE END

Wren shot up again in the desk chair. He felt like he was going to fall right through the chair, but he sat fine in it. The reset felt like it took only seconds, but time didn’t exist in the Parable at all. He should have known better than to expect anything else.

“Hello?” Wren looked around the office before his eyes locked on the figure in the doorway. A smile spread across his face.

“Let’s get going then to get to Stanley, shall we?” The Narrator smiled as well and pushed his glasses up on his face. All the damage that was done to him before got reset and the form was exactly as it was before. Unknown to Wren, the Narrator had to completely remake his form. The Timekeeper tried to delete it from the files, but the Narrator took several hours to remake it exactly as he wanted to.

Wren grinned, walked up to him, grabbed his hand, and pulled him along down the hall. They had to get to Stanley again and there was certainly no time to waste.

Chapter Text

Stanley jolted awake with his heart beating out of his chest. He looked out the window, but it was still pitch black outside. Pain spread throughout his side and hands since the pain medication from the hospital had worn off. Again, Stanley looked beside him for the Narrator and again, he wasn’t there.

His heart and brain went through too much, so the sight of the empty bed did nothing to Stanley. He felt a gentle squeeze in his heart but no tears flowed, not like he had any tears left in him. Carefully, he pulled himself out of the bed and took a moment to stabilize on his legs. Despite giving them lots of time to recover, they still were shaky and weak. Stanley stared down at them with disappointment before he started to slowly walk to leave the bedroom.

For the first time in days, Stanley’s mind was absolutely silent. There were slight tinges of the Narrator or the Timekeeper, but they were nothing more than passing thoughts. Stanley silently stumbled through the room and into the hall. 

Pain medicine. He remembered Wren was getting him pain medicine. Stanley maneuvered his way into the kitchen and found the bag in the darkness. The moon illuminated it on the counter. Stanley walked up to it, but he couldn’t get it open due to his hands. The moon glared down at him, watching and waiting. 

Stanley turned his gaze upward and stared at the moon as it stared back. He knew how often it watched him and tonight was no different, but the moon didn’t know how much Stanley went through. It only briefly saw his interactions with the Timekeeper through the trees. It only saw Stanley stumble out of the woods a bloody wreck. Stanley glared up at the moon. It didn’t know how hard Stanley fought to keep going.

The moon couldn’t judge him anymore. The moon knew nothing about him. Stanley glared up at the moon for a moment longer. He was tired of it constantly watching and judging his every move. Stanley pulled his eyes from it after a minute and looked at the bag. He was not weak nor incompetent nor overly emotional nor-

Stanley stared down at the bag as he realized what he was doing. In all truth, he was all of those things. The bag was crumpled around the pill bottle as he tried to rip it open with his bandaged, club like hands. He stared down at the small rips in the balled paper bag and took a deep breath. He couldn’t let the moon win. Not like this. Stanley shot another glare at the moon before he took another breath and tried to carefully work at the bag.

After a few moments of ineffective work under the direct glare of the moon, Stanley pulled the bag into his arms and went to find one of his friends to help him. It was not weak to get help, the moon could not judge him for that. No.

Stanley walked around the house with the bag balancing on his hands for a moment as he looked around for someone to help him. Soon enough, he found Harris, Mia, and Aubrey all napping together on the couch. They were piled together and looked so peaceful. Stanley almost felt bad to wake them up, but he needed the medicine so bad. Stanley stood in front of them for a moment before he gently nudged Harris. He was on the farthest side of the cuddle pile, so it was the least amount of risk if he got up.

“Hm.?” Harris gently opened his eyes and sat up. “Stanley? What time is it?” He rubbed his eyes to try to wake himself up further as he stared at the shadowy form of Stanley in front of him. It took Harris a moment to adjust to the darkness and noticed the crumpled up bag in Stanley’s hands.

“Your.. Medicine? Oh, god yeah. It would be hard to get that open with your hands.” Harris stood up slowly and carefully, leaving Aubrey and Mia still asleep on the couch. He took the bag gently from Stanley and walked with him back to the kitchen.

“Did you sleep okay Stanley?” Harris still was a little groggy, but he carefully got the bag open and took the pill bottle out. He checked the time on the oven quickly, and it was only three in the morning. Harris glanced back at Stanley, and he nodded gently, not thinking much about his answer. Stanley’s mind was still trying to catch up from the last few days.

Harris smiled encouragingly at him, turned the bottle to see the instructions in the moonlight, and opened the pills. He shook two out into his hand before closing the bottle again. Harris hummed gently and set them down on the counter as he grabbed a glass of water for Stanley. 

Stanley watched him carefully, just standing there awkwardly. He glanced at the moon again as it watched them closely. It watched as Stanley couldn’t do anything for himself. It knew that Stanley did those things to himself, and now he was stuck to suffer the consequences. Despite wanting to look away and hide from its glare, Stanley only glared back. Like it knew anything Stanley went through. It knew nothing.

“Alright Stanley..” Harris spoke softly and caused Stanley to focus back on him. “I can hold the glass for you and even put the pills in your mouth if you would like. I know how hard it is to do anything..” He frowned gently for a moment, but soon smiled encouragingly. He would be here to help Stanley and that was the most he could do.

Stanley looked at him and nodded gently. While his mind was stuttering a little, he still greatly appreciated this so much. Even if Stanley caused them so much stress with the hospital and his stubbornness, his friends still were there to support him. No matter what, they were there for him. 

Stanley took the medicine with the help of Harris. Harris brought the cup to his lips and pulled it away once he swallowed the pills down. He looked up at Stanley, but his smile faded quickly.

“Stanley.. Are you okay?” Harris asked, now noticing the tears flowing down Stanley’s cheeks. He set the cup down quickly, and the moment it was on the counter, Stanley pulled Harris into a hug. Stanley hid his face in Harris’s shoulder and hugged him tightly. Harris frowned gently, but hugged him back. He was as careful as possible to keep his hands away from the stitches, not wanting to bother his wounds too much.

“It’s alright Stanley.. Everything is going to be okay..” Harris didn’t know why Stanley was upset, but he knew he had a lot going on in his head the past few days. He wanted to support him no matter what. He kept his arms around his friend until Stanley slowly pulled away.

[Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.] Stanley signed as best as he could with his hands wrapped up, but Harris understood. Harris’s frown turned upwards into a small smile. Stanley couldn’t say much, but Harris still understood what he was meaning to say.

“It’s the least I can do Stanley. You have had a lot of stuff happening lately.. We are all here for you, alright? We always will be. I know we sometimes do not understand everything, but we will always be here.” Harris smiled wider and immediately was pulled back into another hug. Stanley held him closely, hoping his hug expressed his thanks as well.

Harris and Stanley stayed hugging for a moment before Harris yawned. He would love to stay here with Stanley, but he was rather exhausted from being awake so early in the morning. He bet Stanley was rather exhausted too.

“How about you get back to bed, Stanley? It’s really early, and you need your rest for the morning. We can go search for the.. Thing you were looking for then, okay?” Harris smiled gently and Stanley pulled away from the hug. He wanted to search now, but he knew he wouldn’t make much progress with it completely dark outside.

Stanley nodded gently as he glanced out the window again. He frowned gently but nodded again with more confidence. Harris smiled softly at him.

“I promise we’ll go out when the morning comes around. It just needs to be light out first.” Harris smiled encouragingly and patted Stanley’s shoulder gently. Once again, Stanley nodded and broke away to head back to bed.

“Goodnight Stanley. Get some rest.” Harris called quietly after him before returning to the couch again and rest with everyone else.

Stanley silently made his way back to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. The pain medicine was kicking in, so he felt a little better in that regard. He stared down at his hands for a moment before he finally got himself fully situated into bed. Stanley thought further about his plans for later in the day.

He would finally get to search again for the Timekeeper. None of his other friends saw it, but they were willing to help him find it. But.. He wanted to find it to go back to the Parable. His friends probably wouldn’t want that. He was earlier begging to go back and trying to explain it, but it was easy to tell his friends didn’t understand.

Stanley signed and shut his eyes. They knew how much the Narrator meant to him so they would help him with whatever he needed. He pulled the blankets closer to himself to the best of his ability. He would find the Narrator soon enough. They would find the Timekeeper and Stanley would be able to see the Narrator again. 

After a small sigh, Stanley relaxed further into the bed and fell asleep after a couple of moments.

“Alright, Wren. The password is 2-8-4-5.” The Narrator spoke as Wren walked further into the boss’s office. He pressed the code in as the Narrator recited it. At the entrance of the password, the blinds started to shut over the windows and the fireplace started to open into the secret corridor. Wren immediately started to head back toward it.

“Oh I can’t wait to see Stanley again. He will be so excited to see you.” Wren smiled wide at the Narrator who started to follow him into the corridor. “He will be so happy, I know it.” The Narrator returned the smile.

“I just.. I hope he is okay. I know you said he went through a lot, but I hope he is okay… I know only a week passed with him in the Parable, but we were together for years.” The pair walked into the elevator and Wren pressed the button to go down as the Narrator continued to speak. “I haven’t been without him for this long since the skip button, and it's the same for Stanley. He’s probably so scared..”

The elevator hummed as the doors shut and started to move downward and deeper into the facility. The Narrator kept his normal narrations to himself. He felt a mix of excitement and fear, but he didn’t know which was stronger. He prayed that the freedom ending would still properly connect, but having to remake his model only made him worry.

“It’ll work out, Narrator. We’ll get out and see Stanley again, I am sure of it.” Wren smiled at the Narrator, but in truth, he wasn’t sure at all. Part of his head convinced him this was all a dream or something similar. It made no sense, it just couldn’t be real. Maybe when they did the “freedom ending” Wren would finally wake up. It was better not to question it at all.

The elevator stopped at the bottom and Wren stepped aside to let the Narrator lead the way. Instead, he simply looked at Wren but stayed where he was. He was the one who knew where they were going, but he never led the way. The story was not about him. Wren looked at him for a moment with confusion before he started down the path, the Narrator beginning to trail after him.

“So this just connects to the outside world? To that huge door in the mountain?” Wren walked down the path toward the room labeled ‘Mind Control Facility.’ The Narrator hummed gently and walked slightly behind him.

“It does. I believe it only opens when we actually escaped though. All the other times, it was just a false sort of.. Room, I suppose. It is hard to describe, much like everything else in here. It never felt real, that's for sure. It looked real enough, but the sun’s warmth felt wrong, and the breeze felt too fabricated.” The Narrator rambled as they walked into the large room and Wren turned the lights on to illuminate the screens.

“Especially after being outside, I realize how fake it all was.” The Narrator looked at the black screens as they continued down the path. “Everything about the ending is just… Wrong. It is this repeated, attempted grasp at freedom, but now we all know that it isn’t. I know real freedom, and you do too.” Wren pressed the button and all the screens lit up with a live feed from the different offices.

“We’ll both know immediately if the freedom ending is fake. For better or for worse, we’ll be able to tell right away.” The Narrator’s eyes locked on the screen displaying Stanley’s office for a moment. He didn’t know if they would be able to be really freed when they stepped outside. All they could do was try and hope for the best.

The Narrator kept his eyes on the screen for a moment, his heart sinking at the thought of Stanley. He prayed he was alright. He prayed with everything he could that he was at least getting better. Stanley was everything to him, absolutely everything. He felt empty without him, and it only tore him further to think about the state Stanley was in. 

Wren took the Narrator’s hand in his and gave him a gentle smile. He could tell the Narrator was getting tangled up in his thoughts, but they didn’t have time for that. They needed to get back to Stanley.

“Come on, Narrator. Stanley is waiting for us. The only way we know if the freedom ending is real or not is by going there.” Wren smiled more and started to lightly tug the Narrator’s arm. The Narrator only nodded and silently followed after him.

The Narrator stared at Wren’s hand in his. It only reminded him further of his protagonist, or his old protagonist. He remembered how urgently Stanley would run through the Parable and drag the Narrator along if he wanted a certain ending. Even if they didn’t have a real end in sight, Stanley was still cheerful. At least he was at first. The Narrator thought further and was reminded of the time they both did their final freedom ending. For that, they were slower, more cautious, and honestly mostly worried.

Even though he worked hard to make sure they could escape, he still was unsure if the connection would hold. It was something neither of them knew was even possible after all. Back then, the Timekeeper was still a threat, but a lesser one. Stanley knew about its existence and the desire to keep the game going, but the Narrator knew the bits and pieces that Stanley figured out how to share. It was so much different now.

The Timekeeper was more urgent. It deleted the Narrator’s model and the further he thought about it, the more he knew the ending wouldn’t work. Despite the fact it wouldn’t, Wren cheerfully pulled the Narrator along the paths and into the small elevator. It was cramped, but Wren didn’t seem to mind at all. He stared up at the elevator’s destination with a small smile on his face. He had no idea what he was being led to, but he was so carefree and hopeful…

Just like Stanley.

The Narrator stared at Wren for a minute as his mind processed everything, or at least attempted to. Maybe it was just a coincidence. It had to be purely that. The elevator stopped once it reached its destination and the doors opened. Wren wasted no time in exiting and pulling the Narrator along with him, once again pulling the Narrator from his thoughts.

“I am hoping no time has passed outside in the real world.” Wren started to talk, the silence becoming too much to bear even for him. The Narrator trailed after him and looked around the room at the illuminated buttons and screens. A minute passed before he realized he was supposed to respond.

“I am attempting to stay hopeful as well.. I do not understand the conversion between time here and out there yet, but it can’t be any more than a day that we have been in here. That’s for sure” The Narrator’s eyes locked on the massive screen in front of them as they walked into the control room. Any attempt at words was stopped right in his throat as he realized what was bound to happen.

“The Off button, right?” Wren approached the button and his hand hovered over it for a moment. He thought that was what the Narrator told him before, but the memory was foggy in his head. There were far too many emotions and other thoughts clogging his head.

The Narrator didn’t respond verbally and instead just nodded. It took Wren a moment before he looked back at the Narrator to catch his nod. It was a bit off-putting to not have the Narrator say anything. In all their interactions, the Narrator was either always talking or he would start and ramble on for minutes, but now he seemed distracted. They were going to see Stanley, but he simply stared at the large door in front of them.

Wren kept an eye on the Narrator for another moment and pressed the button to turn the controls off. The room started to shake, everything went dark, and the door finally started to open. Soft music started to fill the room and thankfully put an end to the silence. A smile spread across Wren’s face as sunlight started to pour into the room.

The door fully opened, and the two men stared outside for a moment. They hadn’t taken even one step forward yet. The bird calls beckoned them forward and the wind rustled the leaves on the trees. The Narrator stared at the world outside. From their position on the platform, neither of the men could tell if their freedom was real or not.

“Come on, Narrator. We at least have to see.” The nerves started to settle in Wren’s stomach as well, but he didn’t want to even think about it not working. They needed to get to Stanley again. Stanley needed the Narrator for sure, and maybe he missed Wren as well.

Wren took the Narrator’s hand again and started to pull him along as they walked down the steps. The pair descended the stairs but stopped at the bottom.

“No.. No it isn’t right.. This isn’t right.” The Narrator muttered as he looked outside. Since they were at the bottom of the steps now, the sunlight fully spilled onto the two men. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real sunlight. It felt warm, but it felt warm like a light bulb, not the sun. The bird calls lagged for a moment as the audio stuttered.

“W.. what?” Wren looked outside and stuck his hand fully out in the sun. He immediately knew it was fake too. At a closer listen, he heard fans running to supply the wind that rustled the trees and ran through his and the Narrator’s hair. He took an experimental step forward to investigate but immediately was pulled out of control of his body.

Wren didn’t feel like himself anymore as his body took a step forward without the wish to do so. He was unable to stop himself, but he could still feel the surrounding environment. His head turned slightly to allow him to see the trees, path, and stone wall that normally sat outside the wall in real life as well. Everything looked right at first glance, but it felt so so wrong.

The sun beat down on him, but he could feel the artificial warmth through his clothes. It soaked deep into his body like no real sunlight would. It felt like someone held his body up to a lamp or put him on a large heating pad. Despite the warmth, the sun wasn’t bright. There was no usual blinding light that came from a sun that burned this hot. In addition, the wind felt like it was coming from all directions. It rustled the leaves in the trees and swayed them to the left, but it ran through his hair and brought it backwards out of his face. It didn’t make sense.

As Wren’s body looked around, he could almost see where the walls of the room were. The distance looked far too flat, and even the bark on the trees looked far simpler than real trees. The grass beside the path looked like the same texture repeated over and over. Wren could point out where the same grass bundles were perfectly placed. Despite knowing it was fake, his body continued to move. He couldn’t stop it.

The Narrator’s breath caught in his throat as Wren walked on without him. He knew what was happening as he saw it many times with Stanley. The Narrator took a step, but ultimately stayed where he was. He knew he couldn’t do anything to help. The ending would play out, and they would be back in Stanley’s office. All he could do was shut his eyes and wait for the reset.

But the reset didn’t happen. The Narrator testily opened his eyes again and saw Wren was still standing in the middle of the path. He was unmoving and unchanged. The Narrator knew he still wasn’t in control, but he hoped Wren was already in the reset process. A shiver sent up the Narrator’s spine, and he knew it was there before it started to speak.

“Did you really think it would be that easy, Narry? You think you can just remake what I took from you and leave?” The Timekeeper smiled as it descended the steps after the Narrator. Even as it walked down the steps, it struggled in this form. Its joints locked, and it had to hold onto the railing to keep itself upright.

“You cannot call me that.” The Narrator turned to face it and barked back. While he knew he didn’t have complete control in the Parable, he had more abilities than he did outside of it. If he was forced, he could put up more of a fight here.

“You aren’t leaving. I wouldn’t let my dear Narrator leave me again and especially not this new protagonist. He is quite exciting, isn’t he?” The Timekeeper grinned and reached the bottom of the steps, standing right in front of the Narrator. It took a cold hand and ran it along the Narrator’s jaw. A shiver was sent up the Narrator’s spine again, but he tried to stand his ground.

“You need to let him go. Wren isn’t your little plaything!” The Narrator tried to stand up a bit taller and stand up against the Timekeeper, but there wasn’t a chance. The Timekeeper towered over him and just grinned down at him. The Narrator stood between it and Wren, but it didn’t seem to mind as it just walked through the Narrator without another thought.

As the Timekeeper simply clipped through the Narrator, the Narrator’s entire body ran cold, and he swore he felt the wind get knocked out of him. He grabbed the stair railing to keep himself from falling before he quickly turned around to face the Timekeeper. He opened his mouth to shout at him, but his words failed to leave his tongue.

“Oh perfect Wren..” The Timekeeper snaked around Wren and stood in front of him. It looked down at him and smiled, gently brushing the hair out of his face. “He reminds me of Stanley when he first got here, doesn’t he? So hopeful but helpless.” The Timekeeper looked past Wren to glance at the Narrator.

The Narrator remained at the bottom of the steps. He was unmoving and silent. Fear shook his entire body, but he needed to be greater than it. He knew he couldn’t give up this easily. 

“You need to let him go, he doesn’t belong here! You and I both know that fact well!” The Narrator started shakily but eventually regained his composure and shouted at the Timekeeper. “He should not be here!” The Timekeeper grinned. Exactly what it wanted.

“Stanley wasn’t supposed to be here originally either. If you think about it, only you were made to be here, Narrator, but what is the use of a narrator who can’t narrate. I watched as you fell apart only mere hours ago.” The Timekeeper smiled at Wren before leaving him to walk to the Narrator again.

“He doesn’t belong here, sure, let's go with that, but what will you do if he is gone? You will cry and sob and scream out like you have nothing left to live for.” The Timekeeper stood in front of the Narrator and stared down at him, taking his chin in its fingers. It forced him to look up at it with a grip that was too strong to escape. The Narrator glared up at it, but his fear was blatant.

“It may be entertaining, but it starts to get annoying very quickly. But a new protagonist… That is something amazing entirely! We get to remind ourselves of how Stanley used to act when he was still fun.” The Timekeeper grinned as it gestured to Wren. “We can replay the incredible memories Stanley left us with. The best part is that they are all new to Wren. This whole new world has opened up to him. We can’t let him go just yet. We have to let him see it all .”

“Don’t you dare hurt him.. Don’t you dare force him to do these terrible things!” The Narrator shouted up at it, trying to pull away from its grasp. The Timekeeper only grinned wider before letting him go.

“The wheel must keep turning, Narrator. We will run this Parable to the ground if we have to, but it will never stop. You can keep running, but you cannot run forever. One day you will have no other choice but to give up.” The Timekeeper leaned close to the Narrator as it spoke. Despite the closeness and quiet tone, its voice echoed in the Narrator’s ears.

“And I will be waiting for that day.” With that, the Timekeeper once again clipped through the Narrator, leaving him shivering and breathless. It started up the steps again, but the Narrator quickly turned around to face its back.

“What did you do to Stanley?! What did you do to him?” The Narrator shouted, still attempting to recover from the chill. He gripped the railing of the steps as he watched the creature stop walking. The Timekeepers shoulders shuttered as it started to laugh.

The laughter quickly grew in volume and became piercing as it echoed throughout the Parable. The Narrator covered his ears since it immediately gave him a headache. It was so loud and high-pitched. The laughter buzzed like a blown out speaker.

“What did I do to him? What didn’t I do to him?” The Timekeeper turned around on the steps to face the Narrator with its far too wide grin. “Out of the two of you, he got it much much worse. It’s a shame he gave up so easily. It would have been so much fun to continue to toy with him.” 

“Just tell me what you did! What did you do to Stanley?” The Narrator pleaded. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know the truth about how the Timekeeper hurt Stanley. He heard it from Wren, and it was easy enough to connect the dots of where he got those injuries from. The Timekeeper laughed again, and the Narrator shut his eyes as the lights flickered. 

“You really want to know? You want to know that badly, Narrator? Fine. I’ll tell you. I found him when he came home. He was looking for you, but I was able to greet him first. Oh, how his expression looked when he saw your blood.” The Timekeeper smiled wider. “I chased him into the woods and watched as he struggled to keep going. His legs kept giving out on him, and at one point they failed him. He fell down and laid there pathetically. He was giving up on finding you, Narrator. So, I realized I needed to give him some motivation. 

“I admit, it isn’t the most traditional way to motivate someone, but a stab in the side seemed to encourage him enough.” The Timekeeper grinned as the Narrator covered his mouth to muffle a sob. 

“He started to run a little more from there, but he kept stumbling and giving up. It was rather pathetic, so I tried to encourage him more with a couple quick cuts in the arm.” The Timekeeper motioned along as it spoke. “He ran for a little longer after that, but then he gave up again.

“He fell to the ground and threw up if I remember correctly. When I picked him up, he relaxed into my shoulder, so I threw him back down. I kicked him around a little, stood him up by his shirt, and told him how boring he was. From that moment, I decided I needed a better protagonist. Someone more interesting.” The Timekeeper smiled as it looked at the horrified Narrator. He gripped onto the railing as his other hand stayed over his mouth.

The Narrator felt sick. He never felt sick like this before, but now every part of his body shuttered and his heart sat in his stomach. His poor Stanley. His poor poor dear Stanley.

“W.. Why would..” The Narrator stammered out shakily as he tried to organize his thoughts, but the Timekeeper interrupted him.

“You wanted so badly to know, so I told you. You cannot get upset at me over the past, Narrator. What’s done is done.” The Timekeeper grinned wider and watched as the Narrator grew more and more angry. This was the entertainment the Timekeeper wanted. Watching the Narrator become completely unraveled in person was much more excited than it expected it to be.

“You just left him out there?! You left him hurt! He could have died out there! His body can’t take that!” The Narrator started to shout again as tears streamed down his face. “Stanley could have died, and you left him!” The Timekeeper initially wasn’t expecting the Narrator to shout so loudly, but its grin widened. It would get quite a show.

“I said he was boring. He was giving up on you. He might as give up entirely. If he did that, he already wasn’t my problem.” The Timekeeper spoke so casually about it. It opened its mouth to continue, but the Narrator cut it off this time.