Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Narrator excitedly started the story as usual.

In the previous runthrough, Stanley had listened, he’d actually listened. No words could describe the Narrator’s joy as he actually witnessed Stanley turn the controls off and achieve the Freedom Ending.

The joy was too much to handle.

For both the Narrator and the Parable.

Right now, the Narrator knew that his physical form appeared unstable. He felt and saw blossoms of inky black spreading over his body. Occasionally, a glowing golden eye or two blinked open on his hand or torso, and he had to swat them away.

But Stanley had listened. The Narrator would definitely award him with some benefits for this. Maybe letting him have a nap in the broom closet like he’d wanted for a while.

But Stanley wasn’t moving.

The Narrator’s voice trailed off as he finished the intro. But he tried to stay positive about this. Maybe Stanley just wanted a break, and that was fine. The Narrator was in too good of a mood to care. Instead he waited patiently, humming to himself.

Stanley repeatedly tapped his finger on the desk. His gaze was completely focused; that was weird. He was just fixated on the computer screen, watching the blinking green arrow, and his face was shining with sweat.

Something was definitely wrong, the Narrator could feel it.

And the more powerful emotion he felt, the more it affected him and the world around him. He felt his fingers stretching, growing into inky talons, pitch-black spikes lining up his arms and legs. The arrow-shaped coattails on his suit jacket were elongating into two golden tails, flailing around as he grew more anxious.

The Narrator could hear Stanley’s breathing growing heavier and shallower, more erratic with each passing second.

Were they both having panic attacks?

This could lead to disaster, and it already was.

The Parable started to blink out in some areas, a few nearby objects disappearing. Layers clipped and overlaid each other, and there was plenty of RGB shift.

The Narrator, in a panic, quickly pulled the clock out of his pocket by the chain. Stanley saw this, and immediately dove for it.

It was completely unexpected, and the Narrator froze, so Stanley easily pried it out of his fingers. The Narrator went into further panic mode as Stanley fumbled with the clock.

He reached over Stanley’s shoulder, but his vision was starting to flash with sparks of gold as he got in more of a panic.

Stanley hopped up onto the desk, scattering papers and almost slipping. He dropped the clock, but grabbed it by its chain, letting it swing like a pendulum.

The Narrator gasped and reached for the clock. He needed that. But Stanley just held it above his head. Stanley’s face was red and he was breathing heavily, but he launched himself off the desk and across the room, quickly rushing into the office as the Narrator followed.

“Wait! No! You don’t know how far you could turn back time!” The Narrator pleaded. “You have no idea what you’re doing!”

Stanley clambered onto another desk. *I know exactly what I’m doing!*

The Narrator felt dizzy. He stumbled, having to brace himself on the printer so as to not fall. Stanley hesitated another moment, gripping the clock tighter. And then he sighed, composing himself.

Stanley turned the clock backwards.

Chapter Text

The Narrator didn’t feel right like this. He felt like everything and nothing. He felt wrong, yet so natural in this state.

The void was all around him. Time wasn’t real. He was in complete peace and rest, yet a panging sense of panic got closer and closer.

Without warning, any trace of calm was taken from him. The sharp fangs of anxiety closed around him, piercing him right through and tearing him in two. Everything was around him, and he tried to go back to that lifeless state.

And suddenly he was staring at a computer screen, that familiar glowing green arrow blinking on and off, seeming like it was mocking him for a few moments. He finally realized what was going on, and flinched back, the chair rolling with him.

With some hesitation, the Narrator looked down at himself. Nothing had changed too drastically, but his suit jacket was gone, leaving only the white button-up shirt and blue tie striped with yellow. And his arrow-shaped earrings were still there, but not dangling like they normally did.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned around in mild shock.

Stanley was right behind him, staring at him. It was weird to see Stanley with glasses. For a moment the Narrator wondered how this would work; Stanley didn’t usually speak, ever.

Stanley took a step back. He was wearing a semi-transparent blue poncho, and glaring at the Narrator. *Well?*

As Stanley spoke, the word also appeared on the poncho, which was a strange sight. *Up. Get up. You’re going to see what my life was like for years.*

Stanley wasn’t usually this snappy, and the Narrator was a bit afraid to find out what he could do in this new position of power. He reluctantly got up, glancing around his new office.

On the desk, the yellow ‘427’ had been replaced with ‘003’. Upon closer inspection, all the other doors in the office had been modified for their numbers to be closer to that number. And the Narrator noticed a badge bearing the same number that was pinned to his shirt.

*Okay, here goes.* Stanley was holding a stack of papers; the script. Based off of the pen scribbles, it was just the Narrator’s old script, modified slightly to fit the current circumstances.

*This is the story of a man named Niall.*

Niall? The Narrator was a bit surprised. Stanley had gotten the time to come up with a name? A name which he was mispronouncing, nonetheless.

How long was I stuck in that void?

Stanley just continued talking, smiling a bit as he did so. He was obviously enjoying getting to have his revenge in any way.

The Narrator, or rather Niall now, was frozen in place. He wanted to narrate, he needed to. That was his entire purpose. To be a voice following.

It was causing a powerful panic to rise in his chest, and he stumbled back, bracing himself on the desk behind him and struggling to take deep breaths.

Of course, Stanley just kept narrating. For him, it was exciting, getting to change the usual routine that had grown mundane by now. He didn’t have to make the choices any more.

Niall was in his story now.

It technically wasn’t plagiarism if the script had been given to him. It was now his to modify, to change the protagonist and setting, to be rendered the new god of this world.

Kind of. Stanley was still human anyways, just a human with too much information in his mind and a coding computer at his disposal.

A human who remembered too much.

A human who knew too much.

A human whose power was too much.

But always human.

Stanley finished the intro. He glanced down at the script, then up at Niall, waiting for him to follow the path through the office.

Niall was busy having a panic attack, so Stanley decided not to give him too much at once. He had to be somewhat kind to his new protagonist, after all. He pushed the rolling chair towards Niall, who gladly took a seat. He was pale and struggling to breathe.

*Niall, you’ll be fine. You won’t die here. Isn’t that exactly what you told me?* Stanley leaned on the desk, accepting the opportunity to rub it in. *And was I ‘fine’? As time has proven, no. Not in the slightest.*

Niall clearly didn’t appreciate that approach. He leaned back in the chair.

Stanley sighed and stepped out of the office for a moment. He returned with the bucket, shoving it into Niall’s arms.

For the longest time, Niall had never understood why Stanley loved the bucket so much. Now, being the protagonist, he knew. It gave off such a calm, loving aura to him, comforting him and reminding him that things would be okay. It was nice, and he hugged it tighter.

And from the blank way he stared at the two, Stanley now had the void response to the bucket that Niall had before. He’d forgotten to change the sticker texture on the bucket, so it still said it was Stanley’s property.

But now, technically, it was Niall’s.

It was such a euphoric feeling, experiencing the bucket for the first time. Niall just basked in the feeling, holding the bucket against his body. He fidgeted with the handle, calming down extremely quickly with it in his arms.

*Ready yet?* Stanley took the bucket away from Niall, who resisted the urge to reach out for it. He didn’t want to seem desperate.

After a moment, Niall sighed, then nodded and got up from the chair. He walked into the office space, and Stanley closed the door behind them.

*As you can see, I made some modifications.* Stanley … said? Niall wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he did. But Stanley just kept talking anyway.

*This whole swap situation gave me so much information about… everything, really. It kind of taught me how to use your computer. The one that controls the game.*

Niall nodded to show that he was following along.

*And so obviously I had to change the employee number and the surrounding office accordingly. I changed the script, replacing every instance of my name with your new one. And every mention of ‘the Narrator’ with ‘the Storyteller’.*

This was simple enough. Stanley was rambling on now, a bad habit that Niall had when he was still the Narrator. He already missed that time, and he felt his chest tightening up as he thought about it.

*I’m not taking this lightly, Niall. I’m serious about my new role. More than you ever were.*

Niall just started feeling worse. He was already beginning to crave the comforting presence of the bucket, wanting it close, needing it in his arms, telling him that things would be okay.

*And one thing I plan to add now.* Stanley snapped his fingers, making sure Niall was paying attention. *You’re not human, and you don’t really have a human body. But I want to see if I can change that. I’m giving you organs.*

This was surprising, and Niall spoke up for the first time since the swap. “Wait, what?” But Stanley was already rolling up his sleeve, and with one simple tap on the face of his watch, the change was made.

The Narrator felt his body changing. He felt strangely heavy, and it felt like it was rising up his body. And it was.

Niall doubled over as he vomited, his body unused to having functions like it did now. His eyes were hazy with tears that he blinked away.

Stanley glanced at the result, then stared at Niall judgmentally.

“Ahem. Sorry for that.” Niall was embarrassed. He was usually so formal and professional, and the moment he’d been given any human functions, he’d done something incredibly humiliating for anyone.

Stanley rolled his eyes. 

*Let’s just keep going.*

Chapter Text

The next few runs through the game were relatively the same. The Narrator- Niall explored the area, finally seeing his own story from a protagonist’s point of view, his adventures punctuated by nausea and vomiting. It was a guarantee at this point.

“Dear goodness, it’s like my body is trying to evacuate itself from the inside.” Niall muttered at one point as he wiped his mouth.

Neither of them had known how accurate that would be.

Early into the new reset, Niall felt the early signs of nausea, and called out a warning as he mentally prepared himself. “Stanley, it’s happening again.” He never addressed Stanley as ‘the Storyteller’. Stanley was fine with it. It was what they were both used to.

Niall muttered to himself under his breath. “Damnit… why can’t my body just get used to having organs?” As he finished that sentence, he let out a noise like a hack .

Stanley just faced ahead, waiting patiently for the man behind him. *Done yet?*

He didn’t get a response for several seconds, and he sighed. It was like this sometimes. He ‘spoke’ as he glanced over his shoulder for a moment. “Niall-”

Stanley immediately turned around as he did a double take. He was used to seeing the messes, but he wasn’t used to that.

Niall had been forced to his knees on the floor, hands planted down in front of him. Between his hands was a puddle of blood soaking into the carpet, and more of the scarlet blood flowed from his lips and stained his chin.

Speechless and wide-eyed, Stanley approached Niall, who reached into the center of the puddle and pulled out something like a scrap of flesh. Niall blinked his hazy tears away to stare at the scrap.

Both of them were left silent.

Neither of them knew how to react to that.

Finally, Stanley spoke up, breaking the silence. *Okay, what is going on?*

Niall was breathing heavily. He held the scrap in his palms, studying it carefully through his disbelief as he related this occurrence to the rest of his situation.

“I think… It's part of one of my organs.” He finally said, still staring at the small scrap, not even bothering to wipe away the blood from his mouth.

Stanley tilted his head to the side. *How can you tell?* He approached further and kneeled on the ground, careful not to let his poncho touch the puddle of blood now staining the carpet. It would be gone by the next reset, he knew. But now that this reality was his, it infuriated him to see any damage done.

Niall took another moment to answer. He was astounded, dumbfounded, all of the synonyms that immediately came to mind in his brain. “My body isn’t used to having organs. It only knows that I should be free to shapeshift, but these things are in the way. So it’s destroying them, and when they’re gone, there’s only one way out.”

Stanley nodded. That made sense. “I’ll just have to get used to it.” Niall sighed. He tossed the scrap aside. Stanley had put tissues in his pocket for the vomiting situation, and they’d also be useful for this. He passed one to Niall, then on second thought, gave him several.

Niall nodded gratefully. He wiped away the blood on his own face, and by the time he was done, two of the tissues were soaked and the third was fine. He passed it back to Stanley, who took it back and shoved it into his pocket again.

Niall tried to get up. He trembled for a second, then collapsed down to his knees again, unable to stay standing. That singular scrap of himself had really taken a toll on him.

*Alright, fine then. You stay there. I’m going to adjust some things.* Stanley walked off, taking the clock on a chain out of his pocket.

Niall stayed where he was, letting out a cough that pierced the silence for just a moment before dying away and taking any hints of noise with it. Usually the Parable wasn’t too noisy. The Narrator, when he was still the Narrator, had designed it to avoid any repetitive noise, which was pretty much all noise. He was used to always hearing his own voice and Stanley’s footsteps to take away the quiet that was now pressing around him.

And now the current ‘voice’ of the game was gone. Niall couldn’t speak to himself, it hurt to talk now after forcing that organ scrap out of him.

Time ticked by so slowly.

Every moment of silence was longer than the last.

His thoughts were so loud. They weren’t meant to be.

When the Narrator was left with his own thoughts, it just damaged him.

And now he was left shaking, weak from the time that had passed.

The damage extended.

He was left alone.

All alone.

All because…

*Niall!* Stanley’s voice snapped Niall back to reality. He shook his head, glancing around. Right. Only a few minutes had passed. He wasn’t alone like he thought.

Stanley seemed like he was going to say something, then he just sighed, sitting down beside Niall. Recalling that traumatic experience had been too much, and Niall felt genuine tears welling up in his eyes, not the pain tears like when he’d thrown up the scrap. Trauma tears.

It was still silent, but now he had comfort. He wasn’t alone. Upon closer inspection, Stanley had the bucket. He wasn’t clinging onto it. Its euphoric properties had shifted from affecting him to affecting Niall, who he now passed the bucket to.

Niall sighed and ran his fingers up and down the cool metal, feeling every bump and dent. The bucket radiated that comfort. If only it could heal trauma. The moment it was out of his arms, he’d be left without that euphoria. It was a temporary thing, and that was what made it so addicting.

*I can reset the game early if you’d like.* Stanley offered. Niall nodded gratefully. “Please do.”

Stanley looked down at the clock on the chain. He took a deep breath, then turned it backwards once again.

Chapter Text

Niall took a deep breath as the game reset. He wasn’t experiencing physical pain any more, but the stinging trauma reminder still lingered in his brain.

He advanced through the office almost desperately. Reaching the second segment, he sighed in relief after seeing the familiar podium and then took the bucket into his arms again. He felt warm inside with comfort, and even if it didn’t speak, the bucket seemed to be telling him that everything would be okay.

*Niall.* Stanley only said that one name, but he said it with a teacher-like authority. Niall nodded and kept walking through the halls, the bucket in his arms.

One thing Stanley noticed was that Niall was really pale. So much so that it was incredibly remarkable. His face seemed white, like a shocked cartoon character. And every step he took was shaky and slow as he hugged the bucket tighter.

Niall didn’t know where this sudden weakness was coming from. He felt like he was in a daze and his mind was on autopilot. But unlike autopilot, he actually waited to hear the instructions when he came to his first choice.

Niall went left.

He never went down the left path.

Even if he followed the mind control story, he always chose the right door and then went through the detour. Today was different.

Stanley pretended that he didn’t notice, but he was a bit concerned. Was Niall alright?

Time would tell.

Niall stopped for a moment. A small bead of blood appeared at the corner of his lips, but not red as usual, instead golden. “This happened last time.” He noted. Stanley didn’t need to ask to know what ‘last time’ was.

Niall was breathing heavily. The small droplets of golden blood were quickly replaced with flowing streams of scarlet. He coughed uncontrollably and collapsed down to his knees again, soon managing to get the scrap out.

Where the first scrap was thin, like a fabric patch, this was more like a lump of muscle. It had an attached vein, still leaking some red blood accented with gold.

It was, very obviously, a piece of Niall’s heart.

Niall was shaking and breathing heavily. Panicking a bit, Stanley made a split-second decision which was the only thing he could think of doing.

Resetting the game immediately.

***

Niall sat up with a start in his chair. The blood staining his jaw was gone, the pain in his throat was gone. He was facing his computer, but still shaking.

Stanley was behind him, trembling a lot as well. Even if he despised Niall somewhat for the Stanley Parable, he still cared about his well-being. Niall being anxious made him anxious.

It also wasn’t just for that reason. Niall was typically a formidable character, not letting anything drag him down. If he’d collapsed, it meant something was definitely wrong, and that was the mindset Stanley had subconsciously taken on.

Niall got up again, still shaking but pressing forward. He got the bucket from its podium then continued down the weaving path.

Showing his usual habit, Niall immediately went through the right door. He didn’t even bother lingering in the lounge, he just followed the detour. His defiance was back. But he was still clearly spooked from another scrap coming out of his body.

Yes, he would have to get used to it.

And yes, one day he could.

But that didn’t mean it was easy.

Right now he was shaking badly. So was Stanley, like when he didn’t sleep enough. But they were meant to fight through obstacles, and they followed that purpose.

Niall walked right past the broom closet and straight up the stairs. He was going straight for an ending instead of anything else.

The story unraveled.

Niall found himself going down the elevator, through the mind control facility, and at the control panel. The final decision would be made.

He made what he thought would be the best choice, and turned the controls off. As the lights dimmed, he went over what he wanted to say in his head.

“Look, I’m sorry.” Niall sighed in the darkness. Stanley paused the narration to listen to him. “But that doesn’t even scratch the surface. I hurt you time and time again, and shouldn’t have been surprised when you retaliated.” Niall glanced at the stairs leading down, now visible with the sliver of light. “In any way.”

Stanley just stared straight ahead. Niall continued with his apology. “I thought it would be fine in the name of commentary. I thought it would be fine because you were a fabricated character. It was never ‘fine’. And now we’re here, and I’m getting a taste of what you went through.”

Stanley scoffed and rolled his eyes, taking his glasses off for a moment. He did that frequently to avoid headaches. *If you want a taste of what I went through, why don’t you turn the controls on next time?*

Niall was left silent. Stanley… had a point. Niall was apologizing while going through the most passive ending, one that hurt nobody involved. It wasn’t the best idea.

And yet, Stanley kept talking. *I’m also sorry. I kept on being defiant, again and again, destroying your story again, because I thought it would help. Well, I was stupid for thinking that. It always just resets, doesn’t it?*

Both of them were silent for a moment. *The countdown ending didn’t hurt me the most. Neither did any ending where you got upset at me, or I died. You’re actually going through the ending that harmed me the most. The very first run of the Parable, I was too scared of you to do anything but follow instructions. I thought the story was genuine, I thought I was free. Seeing the face of my office after achieving what I thought to be freedom… it took a toll on me.*

Niall nodded as he went down the stairs, holding onto the railing. Evidently Stanley was thinking the same thing he was about them. Niall had vowed to never achieve the Zending, and he was sticking to that vow.

Niall smiled as he stepped outside. The breeze hit his face, and he took a deep breath, happy to have what he considered a ‘sensory reset’; completely changing whatever his senses were experiencing. It helped him avoid sensory overload.

He looked up at the sky.

*And Niall was happy.*

They’d see if that sentence remained true.

Chapter Text

Niall stood in silence on the elevator. The screens surrounded him, flashing between the employee numbers and their respective office spaces.

Even with the apology, there was a good bit of unrest between Niall and Stanley. They didn’t really get too close unless they needed to, they didn’t have casual conversations, and they never really smiled any more.

Recently, they’d even gotten into a full-blown argument over the situation. Niall had politely asked to have his organs removed. Stanley had checked his watch, then refused, since ‘*it was over halfway done*’.

Of course, Niall had rightfully been upset. But he hadn’t started shouting. He just went on a calm rant about how much he was suffering at the moment. Stanley had fully responded that he didn’t care, and used the pre-swap Parable as his justification. Niall hadn’t liked that, and that was when he started to raise his voice a bit, but not too much.

And that was when things started to go south. Stanley had gotten a bit aggressive, and was also trying to raise his voice higher than Niall’s. He was going too far at this point, reminding Niall of various traumatic points for both of them. And that was when the screaming match started.

They had both lost filters on what they said at that point. Niall called Stanley unempathetic, a tormentor, and much more. Stanley had called Niall weak for not being able to endure the organ situation.

The argument had only ended when Niall threw up the rest of his heart. He had started going pale, then was quieter in the argument, then he’d started choking like a cat hacking up a hairball. After several minutes of this, he’d plunged his hand into his mouth and pulled out an entire heart.

And now in this run, neither Niall nor Stanley spoke at all apart from the narration. No apologies, no attempts to settle their disagreements, nothing. But this sort of thing was typical for both of them. This was their life, this was what they were used to.

Niall was at the control panel again. But he wasn’t really ‘at’ the control panel. He was lost in his thoughts, in his memories. Several harmful reminders had popped up during the yelling match, memories he’d stored away for years just being reeled to the surface now.

A single glowing golden drop of blood was making a small pinprick of light as it dropped out of Niall’s mouth, followed by many others like stars in the facility. But even after half a minute, no organs came, not even any crimson blood. Just the glowing yellow that always seemed to be a warning for a flow of organs ready to burst out.

*I always wondered why it did that.* That was Stanley’s first attempt at casual chatting throughout this whole run. *I have a theory that it’s kind of… preparing your mouth and protecting it from the incoming organs.*

Niall didn’t respond, so Stanley was silent for a moment before using an analogy, or attempting to, at least. *Like organ pr-*

“Don’t you dare say what I know you’re going to say.” Niall got very bad second-hand embarrassment, which was a problem when he had to deal with someone like Stanley, making the worst and dirtiest jokes. And it wasn’t doing anything to lighten the mood, anyways.

Stanley shrugged. *Alright. Are you doing to decide or what?*

That snapped Niall back to the current situation. He was at the control panel, he was making the final decision to seal his fate/ending.

Without thinking, he pressed ‘on’. That seemed to excite Stanley; Niall hadn’t gotten this ending yet, and it was one of Stanley’s favorites, if not his absolute favourite. Niall had never understood that, what was enjoyable about the Countdown ending?

*Ohh, this is one of the only times where I wish things were back to normal!* Stanley exclaimed. That just served to make Niall even more confused. Then Stanley continued the normal narration. Niall wasn’t panicking, he knew what happened in this particular ending.

He just watched as the two minute countdown appeared on the huge screen, then continued with his role and started running into the previous room. More of the glowing golden blood dripped down his jaw.

Niall reached out to press the first button he saw.

Then he stopped, freezing in place.

A full flow of blood, red this time, flowed out of his mouth, even if it was closed. The blood dripped onto the floor beneath his feet, and also dropped onto his torso, staining his shirt and tie with taunting scarlet.

Niall coughed out a scrap, recognizing it as one from his lungs. Then he coughed out another and another. It wasn’t stopping.

He hadn’t been forced to his knees as a result of the scraps in a while, but now this torrent of organs was forcing him down. His eyes went hazy and blood just kept flowing.

A puddle of gore was on the floor between Niall’s hands, scarlet specked with pinkish scraps from his lungs.

Stanley had his eyes closed, really getting into the narration. Niall was just next to him, shaking, on his hands and knees, and letting out a small whimper since he was unable to scream.

Niall collapsed further, so he was on his side and half-curled up, the blood still relentlessly flowing, causing red stains on his hair and arrow-shaped earring.

That was when Stanley extended the timer. He was just pacing around, pretty much talking to himself, while Niall suffered just a few feet away. It just wouldn’t stop. The blood flowed in a torrent, merciless and overwhelming. Lung scraps decorated the scarlet flow, and it looked like a sick sort of sunset through the fog in Niall’s gaze.

The minute slowly counted down. Time stretched out forever with this suffering.

Over halfway done, Niall reminded himself. Over halfway done. Over halfway done.

Only halfway done.

Chapter Text

Niall had brightened up a bit. The previous reset, he hadn’t coughed up any organ scraps. But he really had to be sure now.

Movement agitated the organs. He paced around a bit.

Nothing.

He started running around.

Nothing…

Niall gasped happily as he realized what this meant. He turned to face Stanley, who had been staring curiously the entire time. “I think all the organs are gone.” Niall was almost breathless, from both the running and his joy.

Unable to stop himself, Niall started shaking his hands out, his eyes wide and sparkling with happiness while a smile was on his face, the type of smile Stanley had never seen on him, not when he was the Narrator, not when he was Niall.

Thinking about that made Stanley realize that many things were off. Why did Niall rarely smile, why had the Narrator only said he was happy once?

Only said he was happy once.

As Stanley watched this suddenly bouncy and joyful Niall, his mind was hard at work, recalling the Stanley Parable.

The Narrator had only ever thought he was happy once… was he even sure what the emotion was at all?

Stanley was staring off into space now. Yes, things were definitely off. This was the first genuine smile he had ever seen…

…in years.

Stanley never genuinely smiled. The Narrator never genuinely smiled. And Niall never genuinely smiled until now. Joy was something to salvage in the Parable if ever found. For all its years of activity, any happiness was extinct.

Stanley was anxious from the get-go.

And the Narrator… how had he not noticed before?

Ultra Deluxe had answered some questions that were raised. Stanley was a creation of the Narrator, meant to make choices and entertain him. But it wasn’t entertainment. It was just a source of comfort. 

God, this was why Stanley could never see the true appeal of the story. Not when he was the protagonist, and not even now when he was the Storyteller. The story was always a coping mechanism for whatever problems the Narrator had. Stanley had always thought a non-human being like him couldn’t have problems at all.

And now this formerly stoic, unhappy figure was right in front of him, fiddling with a pencil to help tamp down this sudden overflow of happiness. 

It was a sudden switch. Now Stanley was sure that the Narrator was depressed, yet Niall seemed so motivated now, so chokingly overjoyed.

Stanley promised himself; if Niall ever showed the symptoms again, Stanley would stop and actually talk to him.

They did both have underlying problems that definitely didn’t mix. Stanley having anxiety made it so that the Narrator had made him feel worse. Yet Stanley was the Narrator’s only coping mechanism in this damn place. It led to unsolved trouble.

Damnit, the Curator had warned them about this, yet they ignored it in favour of their arguments and disagreements, their attempts to destroy each other.

Stanley wanted to convince Niall to visit the museum again. He hadn’t done that ending yet. But Stanley knew… he wouldn’t be able to see it now he was the Storyteller.

Niall was next to him suddenly, grabbing Stanley’s hand and gripping it in excitement. He still had that smile, exposing his small fangs.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Niall exclaimed, pulling Stanley along with him.

Stanley stumbled, caught his footing, then just let Niall lead him along.

Chapter Text

Niall’s smile had disappeared, all the joy had faded away.

The organ thing was over, yes. But he was still here. He was the protagonist in this Parable, and he’d never go back to having his perfect story to comfort him.

He could tell from the different ways Stanley acted around him that he’d put two and two together. This whole time, even before the swap, Niall had suffered from depression. The period of joy and relief from after the organ situation was only temporary as well.

He’d only have his artificial joy for now.

Niall sealed in the fact that his depressive state had returned by grabbing the bucket off its podium. It was always enchanting, luring him in, whispering promises of happiness. Promises never kept, but they sounded so sweet and genuine in the moment that it was easy to forget.

Drifting his fingers up and down the bumpy metal, Niall walked in silence with Stanley just behind him. He was avoiding the left path. For a couple resets Stanley had tried to lure Niall into choosing the so-called ‘escape’ route. But why would he ever do that? His death would lay at the end. He wanted to steer clear of all death endings for now.

For now he just sat in the employee lounge, letting the bucket wash tides of comforting bliss over him. The organ situation was over, it reminded him. Everything would be okay.

Stanley paced around the room, his poncho flowing with each step. He was obviously frustrated. He had a plan in mind, and Niall was just sitting there, not following anything at all.

Niall was staring at Stanley, then staring at the bucket, admiring the way the lights shone on the metal shell. Everything was fine once it was in his arms.

Getting up, Niall walked down the hallway and down to the cargo lift. Stanley continued muttering the script, then looked up, watching Niall’s choice.

This… was admittedly a bad idea. The cargo lift was usually a hotspot for death endings. Niall glanced around, then clambered onto the lift, letting it run its course.

When he was in the room with the phone, he picked it up, letting light engulf him. Then the apartment was around him.

The ending slowly played out. It was one that always made Niall feel a bit weird, but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

And as soon as it started, it ended, with Niall closing his eyes.

***

The next reset rolled around. Niall blinked his eyes open, then rushed to go pick the bucket up again.

*You’re obsessed with that thing.* Stanley pointed out. “And you weren’t?” But when Niall took it into his arms, the comforting feeling wasn’t nearly as powerful. The rising panic from that was causing involuntary changes, and he set it back down, his hand clawing at his chest.

Stanley rolled his eyes and just went along with what Niall did. Speed walking through the office, Niall’s brain felt like it was on autopilot once again. He chose the left door, ignored the employee lounge, then went straight ahead through to the cargo lift.

There was an ending he hadn’t gotten yet. It always unnerved him a bit, but now he was just curious. 

He laughed a bit hearing Stanley’s impression of the voice he did for the bucket, then cleared his throat and climbed onto the boxes just next to the ledge, prepared to hop down and enter the vent. He didn’t enjoy vents, but it was just a short burst.

Then he found the room.

And the tape.

Knowing what he needed to do, Niall pressed “play”.

Chapter Text

Niall had planned to leave the bucket alone for a few resets so that the euphoric feeling would come back more powerful. He felt out of place. He was dull, a hole in his own world.

Stanley was especially fidgety this reset. Niall immediately knew something would be off. He’d only ever gotten that fidgety when something was wrong in the game.

“Got a bug you need to fix?” Niall asked. Stanley looked up, taking a moment to process the question, then shook his head.

*No. There’s no glitching. Something just… doesn’t feel right. I can’t pinpoint it for the life of me. I’m just feeling really anxious and fidgety.*

Niall nodded in response. “That happens. Usually it sorts itself out. By the next reset you should be better.”

But Niall also had an uneasy feeling. His skin was crawling, he had rushes of cold chills, and there was a strange pressuring sensation. Stanley was managing to suppress his reactions. Niall wasn’t.

He walked slightly slower to let Stanley catch up, then started walking beside him. Neither of them said anything, neither had anything to say. Their footsteps filled the empty, unfeeling silence.

Stanley stared off at the windows, squinting against the bright light glowing from them. In the current context, he was checking for glitching. Neither of them mentioned the real reason he was looking at the windows; to avoid looking at Niall instead.

Niall understood. He wouldn’t look at himself or even be himself given the chance. He felt so, so unnatural, and the shivers wouldn’t stop. Of course he’d be nothing at all.

At the first set of doors, Niall looked between his choices. His mind wasn’t doing it for him automatically; that wasn’t normal. He actually put significant thought into it, at least as much significant thought as he could muster after knowing what all of the endings were about.

He decided to choose the left door for now. The uneasy feeling was making him strangely passive, more willing to go through with the storyline. Similarly to when he threw up the first part of his heart.

Stanley brightened up a bit. Yes, this was his chance to convince Niall to go find the museum.

Often Stanley wondered about the Curator. She had a similar accent to Niall’s, and the two seemed somewhat similar in a way Stanley couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Sometimes he wondered if they were siblings. Niall definitely wasn’t aware that the Curator was there, he avoided the museum at all costs. The Curator rarely spoke of the Narrator alone when she did speak, and even then, she showed no hints of their relationship.

*Hey, Niall?* Stanley decided to ask. *Do you have a sibling?*

Niall froze in his tracks. He turned to face Stanley, his eyes wide. “Why do you ask?”

Stanley quickly came up with a lie. *It’s just that… you’re pretty unique, and I’m curious if there’s multiple other individuals similar to you.*

Niall frowned. He knew when Stanley was lying. “I don’t want to answer right now. It’s a sensitive subject for me.”

*Come on, Niall!* Stanley needed to be pushy now to get what he wanted. *If you need to talk about it I’m right here.*

“I don’t need to talk about it and I don’t want to talk about it.” Niall snapped. “You should be looking for glitches. That’s what we’re doing right now.”

By that time, Niall and Stanley had reached the staircase. Niall wanted to see how this would play out, and so he went down. But halfway down the stairs, he felt a sudden pain, and needed to stop.

*Are you alright?* Stanley asked. Niall didn’t respond, just winced as he tucked his knees close to his chest and let out a drawn-out whine of pain. He winced for a moment. His face was visibly pale and he seemed agitated.

*Niall, you are not alright. Niall, look at me.* Stanley did his best to kneel down on the narrow step. He placed his hand on Niall’s shoulder and stayed there until he looked up at him, and even then, Niall avoided eye contact. That was fine. He typically did that, anyways. Usually to him, eye contact made him feel incredibly uncomfortable in many ways.

*I know that something’s going on.* Stanley’s voice was gentle, not commanding at all. *You’re not alright, Niall. You’re trying to put on this mask, but you can’t hide from me. I thought I’d seen you happy. But only once, and only recently, have I genuinely seen that.*

Niall felt targeted. His eyes darted away then he stared back down at his feet, shifting uncomfortably on the step. *Niall, no. Look at me. Niall.*

Niall reluctantly looked up. Stanley’s hazel eyes glared into his own pale yellow, for only a moment before Niall looked away again. *Please. Tell me what’s going on. I can tell you’ve been suffering. There must be a reason for this depression. What happened to you?*

Niall kept avoiding the conversation. Finally he spoke in a quiet tone. “Just leave it alone.”

Stanley nodded, finally letting go of the topic. *If that’s best for you.* Despite the comfort he was giving, Stanley couldn’t help but feel a rush of resentment. His efforts were being pushed away in so many ways. He just wanted Niall to visit the museum. If the Curator was Niall’s sister, seeing her again would surely help. Why was Niall ignoring the attempts to help him get better?

And further resentment came from their past. No matter how much the Curator enforced the idea that Stanley and Niall ‘needed’ each other, Stanley couldn’t help but think about everything.

Yet he also had resentment for himself now. He was continuing the cycle, keeping another trapped in a loop. But he reminded himself that it was to teach Niall a lesson.

Although he didn’t feel any better.

His thoughts were interrupted by a torrent of coughing from beside him. *Niall?* He looked over, eyes wide with slight panic.

He saw it just in time.

Niall pulled another organ scrap out of his mouth.

Chapter Text

Niall jolted awake again. He was shaking so, so badly and his body felt heavy like it always did with the organs. He’d been so light before, and had gotten used to that now. Why were they back?

“Stanley?” He turned to face him. He felt shaken up, and like he was unable to be angry. He was too astonished to have room for any other emotion. Then it faded away and was replaced with frustration. Was this his fault?

*I don’t know either.* Stanley affirmed. *I did not expect that at all. What the hell happened?*

Niall shrugged. “It happened like it always did. I felt pressure, then there was the golden blood, then red, then the scrap. From my liver, I believe. Going back on topic, what the hell? Did you add them back?” He glared at Stanley accusingly.

Stanley shook his head dismissively. *No! I would not. I let it run its course, then they all should’ve been gone. I’m not sure what’s going on, either.*

Niall groaned, hiding his face in his hands and resting his elbows on the desk. “This is why you don’t make such sudden decisions. Now I’m going to have to suffer more, and there’s no damn way to avoid it. We’re stuck like this. I’m stuck like this.”

Stanley sighed, then looked at his watch, opening the game settings and starting to look around. *Alright, I’m going to be back in a second. Just wait here. You can do that, right?*

Niall nodded.

He was so wrong.

The moment Stanley was gone, he started tapping his finger on the desk to fill the void that all the silence made. He wished the bucket was with him.

He hadn’t had it last reset, right? If he had it, the silence and waiting would mean nothing. If the bucket was in his arms, he was fine. He was safe. Nothing could hurt him, ever. As long as he had that companion.

But it wasn’t there. Attempting an imagined bucket wouldn’t help at all, he’d tried before. He needed the real thing to comfort him. That… or Stanley.

Why had Stanley left? He should’ve stayed so he could do whatever it was he was doing.

Niall had been so obsessed with Stanley while he was still the Narrator. Now Stanley was the Storyteller. So why was he willing to leave Niall’s side? Was it not normal for authors to have such affection for and obsession with their protagonists?

He wished he had the bucket. He wished he had Stanley. Then he wouldn’t feel so empty, he wouldn’t feel so alone. He should’ve insisted on going with Stanley so he wouldn’t have this trauma response.

Niall had that familiar tightening in his chest rising up again. His skin crawled, his vision spotted with black. How long had it even been?

Time melted and spiraled into everything and nothing at once. He felt fidgety and started to scratch at his own skin. He tapped his foot on the ground and his finger on the desk.

The light faded away and the room spiralled out of his comprehension and everything was gone. Stony rubble was around him and plants slowly grew, creeping into the cracks between and recreating their natural world.

There was slow, slow silence, apart from the sound of his own dull voice.

“The end is never the end is never the end is never the…” he was fading into a low mumble as he spoke, and he felt so empty. Eyes blinked open on his body.

Suddenly, without warning, the bucket was shoved into his arms again. Niall was snapped back to reality. Right. He was safe in the office.

He looked up and smiled. Now his two favourite things were here with him. He had the bucket in his arms and Stanley beside him. Stanley looked indifferent, a stark contrast to how worried he had been before.

*Niall. I would say there’s good news and bad news, but the truth is that there’s only bad news. I brought the bucket so that you’d at least have some comfort while I tell you.*

Niall sat up. Stanley had his full attention.

*I tried to access the coding script where I added the organs. And it just… wasn’t there. Although the organs were there themselves, the script was already deleted, so I couldn’t undo anything. I’m sorry, Niall, those things are inside you for the long run.*

Niall felt a pressure in his chest again. His eyes widened. He felt like sobbing, like curling up and fading away from existence. It wasn’t a dull and consistent background thing like depression, this revelation made him feel like he was being struck through the heart and his attacker was twisting the knife.

He wanted to be gone. To be alone to wallow in his misery. The pain of vomiting his own organs would be nothing compared to that of being told that it would just happen over and over and over again.

He hadn’t felt like this in years.

Decades.

Centuries.

In eons, even.

In all his 330 billion years of life and counting, Niall had only felt this lost twice and only in the early years of his life. The world around him faded away. He was back in the void of his childhood, he was back to being just a young shadow, having to deal with so much loss so soon.

Stanley stood awkwardly in place, then after a moment, reached out to take Niall’s hand in his own. He squeezed Niall’s hand reassuringly.

For Niall, this somehow felt better than the comfort of the bucket. But soon Stanley’s hand was away from his, although it had managed to drag him out of that miserable state. He sniveled, sat up, and placed the bucket on the desk.

“I’m fine now.”

Stanley raised an eyebrow. *Are you sure?* Stanley’s way of comfort was more forceful and cold, but it worked better than the pretty lies of the bucket. He was blunt, which provided more long-term comfort.

Niall forced a nod. “Yeah. I’m sure. I handled it once, I can handle it again.”

Stanley knelt down, then realizing how awkward it seemed in front of Niall in the chair, stood up again, looking down at Niall. *No, you cannot. Niall, you are not okay, and I can tell. I know what you need, and I’m trying to get you to realize that.*

“By telling me to kill myself?” Niall said bluntly. “That escape route… it’ll lead to my death, and we both know it. I’m not facing the crusher.”

Stanley shook his head. *Niall, I’m telling you…*

“No.” Niall asserted. “ I’m telling you that I’m not going down that ending. I’m not dying and making you watch. That’s the end of it.”

With that, Niall got up and walked away.

Feeling defeated, Stanley did what his job was to do now.

To just follow and narrate.

Follow and narrate.

Chapter Text

The last few resets had been plagued with more organ vomiting. Bits of his lungs, stomach, liver, everything.

Niall stared off into space now at this reset. Stanley stood beside him. By now he was used to waiting patiently for Niall to want to start. 

Niall didn’t want to, although he knew he had to. He kept staring at nothing and absentmindedly spinning back and forth in the chair. He didn’t feel like doing anything.

Stanley noticed how pale Niall’s face was. He thought he knew what it meant, his mind working to link this event to previous ones. He just needed confirmation of his suspicions.

Several minutes passed in silence. The only reason Niall was fine with it was because Stanley was with him, his comfort was with him. He’d been ignoring the bucket for a while, knowing that he had Stanley.

He was in denial, telling himself that it was a normal thing to experience, such adoration for and obsession with his former protagonist. Obviously he was wrong, but he managed to keep that ideology.

It was honestly nice for him to just wait. There was a dull pressure in his chest, not just from anxiety, and so he wanted to stay where he was. He was happy in place, as long as Stanley was with him. He knew he had to go, he knew it, and he hated it. He wanted this moment.

Slowly, reluctantly, Niall stood up. He pushed the chair in, wobbling slightly in place as he did so, feeling a bit woozy. He fought with himself not to fall over, taking a deep breath. He kept his focus, finding himself glancing at Stanley.

Niall took another moment, then started walking through the office, occasionally bumping into the edges of desks and sending chairs rolling across the floor.

*Are you alright?* Stanley placed a hand on Niall’s shoulder from behind. The touch sent electric sparks up Niall’s skin, but he managed to force himself out of it and nod. “I can keep going through with the story.”

Stanley nodded. *I hope so.*

Niall felt a lot more inclined to speak his mind, and he did so without thinking. “You are working pretty hard on the story. I’m honestly a bit impressed.”

Stanley stared at Niall, then attempted to feign nonchalance by looking down at the script, although his fingers gripped Niall’s shoulder. Again, that touch caused shivers and a burning feeling in Niall’s cheeks.

He wasn’t quite sure what it was. Did humans normally feel burning whenever they touched each other? Was it because of the organs?

Slowly the effect dimmed down. Niall’s face was back to being very, very pale. When they reached the two doors, he looked between his options, then slowly and passively chose the door on the left.

By now Stanley knew what was going on, but he kept his job going by just speaking when he needed to speak, which felt better for someone so used to being almost completely mute.

He just waited for the inevitable.

Niall kept going through the office. He stumbled and started bumping into doorways and walls if he didn’t have Stanley’s hand steadying him, so that was a bit of an annoyance. But nothing either of them couldn’t handle.

At the stairs, Niall slowly started to go up, using the railing unlike usual. Stanley’s suspicions were pretty much confirmed at this point.

Niall almost slipped at one point, and there was a concerning delay for the reflex of his hand gripping the railing. He wasn’t worried for himself, he was worried for Stanley. He was human, he could be seriously hurt from stairs. And, technically, he had been seriously hurt from stairs.

Niall felt too woozy to let that trauma strike him properly. In the boss’s office, it took him almost the entire dialogue to stumble across the room.

At the keypad, he lifted his hand, trying to press the numbers properly, but half-collapsed, his palm pressing the buttons accidentally, spamming them unintentionally until the door just opened on its own.

*Come on, Niall.* Stanley urged him. Niall reluctantly straightened up, wobbling before continuing to the elevator.

“I’m acting exactly how you did when you were exhausted, but I’m not tired at all.” Niall mumbled the best he could. His face was getting more pale by the moment. He leaned on the down button, letting the elevator go into the depths of the building.

*No, you’re just feeling faint.* Stanley agreed. He didn’t want to explain, he was too upset with Niall to do that. He wanted to keep it away, so he just gripped Niall’s shoulder again and kept going with the script.

Down at the path that said escape, Stanley felt a flicker of hope. *Come on, Niall. You’ve gotten every ending from this point on but this one. Please, it might make you feel better.*

“To die?” Niall stated in disbelief. “No, no, I’ll feel guilty if I force you to watch me die.”

Niall hadn’t admitted that before, and Stanley felt a bit flattered, covering the lower half of his face with the script for a moment. He then cleared his throat and kept talking as Niall walked into the Mind Control Facility.

The moment the first button was pressed, Niall felt a sudden sense of clarity. He didn’t feel like he needed to be guided along any more, but Stanley’s hand on his shoulder felt nice, so he pretended like nothing had changed.

Halfway through the first pathway, he suddenly stopped, causing Stanley to bump into him. The electric sparks didn’t happen this time. Niall was preoccupied.

His eyes got hazy with tears. Then the coughing started. Niall was coughing and making hacking noises. His mouth felt dry without any of the golden blood.

After another minute of this, the first glowing dribbles started, but by now the pain and pressure was so powerful that Niall was forced to his knees.

Stanley smiled, finding an opportunity to rub it in. *What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Or… let me guess… heart in your throat?”

Niall was busy, struggling to cough up his own heart, although he looked up at the storyteller standing above him with a smug smile on his face.

*It’s funny.* Stanley said before starting to count on his fingers. *You’re six feet tall, used to torment me, and now here you are on the ground, choking on your own heart.*

Niall let out a small whine, before looking up at Stanley again. “I hate you…” He murmured that obvious lie under his breath.

Stanley just smiled in response and knelt down to rub a bit of the golden blood away with his thumb.

*You’re nice, too.*

Stanley pulled his hand away just in time as the scarlet flow of blood started. There was so much. It was so painful. Niall wanted it to stop.

He felt like a cat trying to cough up a hairball. Trying not to think about how messy his fingers were going to get, he plunged his hand into his mouth.

Niall’s searching fingers found his heart quickly. It was a huge, huge lump in his esophagus. His hand wrapped around it, pulling it out.

Stanley had stepped back, and it was a good idea. If they’d thought there’d been a lot of blood before, this was an absolute tidal wave. It was like Niall had taken the cork out of a bottle.

He tossed his heart to the ground and tried to swallow the blood, but it managed to drip out from between his lips, staining his clothing with even more crimson.

Niall was clutching his stomach, coughing and half-sobbing. He fell onto his side, curling up. It was impossible for him to care about the blood at this point. He hated feeling like this, it was worse than sickness.

Stanley wasn’t reluctant to approach. *Look. I’m sorry for saying all that. I should’ve been more sensitive to your situation… you’re suffering a lot more than I ever did.*

Niall was already shaking his head and mumbling through the tears. “Save it and reset.”

Stanley nodded, compliantly taking out the clock on a chain and turning it backwards.

Chapter Text

Niall was back to normal by the next reset. But he wasn’t back to ‘normal’ in any way. He sat where he was, his mind racing and empty at the same time.

Stanley felt so guilty. *Hey. Niall… I’ll just say it again without avoiding it. I’m sorry.*

Niall didn’t know how to respond. He stayed quiet. Even if the apologies were picking up the pieces of his heart to mend them, it would still be a while before it was completely repaired. Not actually physically. That would never happen physically.

*Is there anything I can do for you to make it better?* Stanley leaned on the desk, his arms folding one over the other. He was actually being sincere now, and Niall fought a small smile.

Instead he focused on thinking about what he might want. What in this world, this terrible reality, would make him feel better?

His mind immediately came up with a response, even if it was a response he wanted to avoid. He fought against his own thoughts for a moment before eventually giving up and admitting what he wanted.

“I’m sorry if this response hurts you too.” Niall apologized quickly. That immediately grabbed Stanley’s attention completely, and he was fully focused on Niall.

Niall took a deep breath. 

“I want to go see the Zen Room.”

Stanley was a bit taken aback, but not exactly hurt, even if that room also carried painful memories for him. He didn’t even question it, he didn’t want to hurt Niall any further. He just nodded and got up. *If that’s what’ll make you feel better.*

Even so, he was avoiding eye contact. Not just in the usual sense of making Niall uncomfortable, but also that he didn’t want Niall to see his disappointment. He was hoping Niall would admit something about his relationship with the Curator. But if he wanted the Zen Room, he could go to the Zen Room.

Niall got up as well. He was walking steadily, but kind of wished he was stumbling again so that Stanley would touch him. Then he felt guilty for even having those kinds of thoughts in Stanley’s presence, and tried to push them away.

They weren’t even bad thoughts. Niall just felt guilty for having feelings. He was so used to being stoic and serious, he didn’t want to feel like this.

He just continued walking through the office. Stanley didn’t narrate, didn’t even speak, and he seemed to prefer that anyways. There was no need for any talking. Niall would be completely fine, too, he had Stanley with him to avoid bad memories.

He went through the door on the right and went straight through the employee lounge. He was walking as quickly as he could, eager to reach his safe space with all the lights around, comforting him.

“You should probably open the doors to the Zen Room in advance so that we don’t have to wait too long.” Niall suggested. Stanley nodded and checked his watch, with a simple tap the doors were open.

Niall smiled and kept going. He entered the warehouse, his footsteps echoing through the larger space. It was honestly a nice noise.

A small bit of golden blood dripped out of his mouth. There wasn’t as much actual red blood, and Niall pulled the scrap out of his mouth easily. He tossed it to the ground, determined to let nothing ruin this.

Stanley stared at the bloody scrap on the ground, feeling that familiar upsetedness that this reality that was now his had been dirtied in any way. But he shook his head to snap out of it and focused on going with Niall to keep him happy.

Niall climbed onto the actual lift itself. He grabbed Stanley’s hand to help get him on as well before the lift started moving. Stanley hopped the small gap and let go of Niall’s hand to dust himself off, causing Niall a small rush of sadness. He pushed it away, feeling even more guilty.

Halfway through the lift ride, Niall hopped down onto the catwalk below and scrambled aside before Stanley did as well. His poncho fluttered and flared up as he fell down and landed expertly on the walkway.

Niall led the way now. He enjoyed the sound of his boots tapping on the metal walkway. Then he was in the hallway leading to the room with the coloured doors.

He immediately chose red and Stanley rushed to follow before the door closed behind them. He spoke for the first time since the starting point. *I swear, the hardest part is keeping up with all the doors. How did you manage?*

Niall shrugged. “Shapeshifter. Longer legs. It was just easier for me.”

Stanley sighed and kept walking alongside Niall. He didn’t like being reminded of his height, not because he was too short, but because it made him feel dysphoric.

Niall ducked into one of the doors. He started to panic in the dark silence. “Stanley?” He called out.

*Right behind you.* The unnatural echo that came with Stanley speaking through thoughts was strangely comforting to Niall.

It kept Niall walking. He eventually got to the Zen Room, smiling when he saw the stars and the pretty blue lights.

Stanley’s gaze lingered on the doorway in the void for a moment before he forced himself to stay focused on the lights for Niall’s sake.

Niall sat down in the middle of the platform and actually smiled. It made Stanley feel the kind of joy that was heartbreaking given the context. He stood beside Niall, now taking the role of the one that stayed active and wouldn’t be caught resting for too long.

He was used to constant walking, so it wasn’t too hard. Stanley heard a happy sigh from Niall, and it just served further purpose for his guilt and shattering contentment.

Niall was so, so happy to see the lights again. He had never admitted to Stanley why he enjoyed them so much. Right now, he just let himself get absorbed into his past, back to when the world was just a void.

It made Stanley happy seeing Niall happy. He hummed quietly to fill the silence only slightly broken by the calming noises of the Zen Room.

He didn’t realize what was coming next.

A small bit of the void almost shaped like a person snuck up behind the two, and before Stanley had a chance to react, completely enveloped him and caused him and the calming humming to disappear amongst the darkness.

Chapter Text

Before Stanley knew it, he was floating in a familiar empty void. He wasn’t panicking, but he was immediately worried for Niall. He wasn’t able to handle being alone.

He sighed. *Alright, Timekeeper, make it quick. I need to get back fast before Niall starts panicking. We have, I think… two and a half minutes max.*

“There’s no Timekeeper any more.” A voice whispered from the darkness instead of any text appearing before him. That immediately grabbed Stanley’s attention.

A figure slowly materialized in the void. It was mostly pitch black and had a small white aura to stay visible in the darkness. A long hair-like cloud flowed from the top of its head. Not exactly a cloud, but Stanley didn’t know a better alternative word for the waves that cascaded down and flowed from this figure’s head.

Its monocle on a chain had a ticking clock, which also appeared to be its eye. It didn’t have any other facial features, and half of its face was pure white. It had a more feminine appearance despite its voice.

*Where’s Timekeeper?* Stanley immediately asked. The figure’s clock eye blinked, and a mouth appeared on its face as it spoke. “They became us. ”

Stanley was immediately confused. His mind started turning with too many thoughts, but they were scattered away when another, more feminine voice shouted from the void. “Alright, save the crypticness!”

Another figure, the same height as the first yet thinner, appeared from behind Stanley. This one was almost entirely shocking white apart from the pitch black section of its face and transparent square black monocle. Most of its face was taken up by a large slider, which slid from side to side depending on what it focused on. Its flowing waves from the top of its head created a shorter and more masculine haircut-like formation. Similar to the first, its appearance was a contrast to its voice.

Suddenly it was greeting Stanley, then explaining things in a voice so fast it made him woozy. “Hi. I’m Data Spirit and this is Time Spirit. While you and the Narr- ahem- Niall were glitching out Timekeeper split into us as their component parts sorry that Time was so cryptic they talk like that a lot it makes me confused too but I forgive them anyways we wanted to talk to you and-”

The pitch black figure, Time Spirit, cut the other one off. “You’re going to talk his ears off!” They shoved Data Spirit with their sharp talons. They turned to Stanley, the hands on their clock eye whirring for a moment with annoyance.

“They speak as fast as a rabbit.” Time Spirit sighed then extended their talons for a handshake, to which Stanley accepted after a moment, still stunned from the rapidness of Data Spirit’s explanation.

*So. Time Spirit, Data Spirit?” He confirmed. “Yes. You can call us Time and Data, although, I doubt you’ll be explaining this to Niall.”

Stanley froze. Niall. *How long has it been?* He tried to ask without panicking.

“It doesn’t matter.” Time murmured with a bit of a laugh. *Yes, it does! Niall’s going to have a massive panic attack if they’re left alone for too long. Does the word trauma mean nothing to you?*

Data Spirit paused from where they were doing small loops in the void. “Trauma?” They asked, confused.

*Yes. Trauma. Niall needs me with him. The Skip Button Ending messed them up badly. *

Time and Data exchanged a glance. Although their facial features weren’t good for expressions, they were both clearly thinking that they had made a huge error, and they had.

“Look, I’m sorry, but we need to talk to you.” Time said apologetically. “We’ve been trying to merge back into Timekeeper, but we can’t do it properly ever since the swap.”

Stanley sighed. *The swap can’t be reversed. I know too much now. All the damage is permanent.*

Data started panicking, and flew over to Stanley. “Please, you have to try!” They pleaded, their hands clasping together in front of their chest. “We can’t stay like this. Half of each of our memories are gone, and we can’t uphold everything when we’re like this.”

Stanley looked confused. *But you’ve been doing it okay thus far, right?*

Time shook their head, fidgeting with their hourglass shaped tie. “No. I managed to mess up and let that line of code allowing you to undo the organs slip away and delete itself. It’s my fault that Niall’s stuck like that.”

Time hid their face in their talons, and Data immediately went to comfort them. “Hey- hey, it’s not your fault! We’re new to this… I’m sure we can find a way to get it back.”

Stanley subconsciously buried his hand in his pocket to hide his watch. *No, there’s no way. I assume only having certain memories is messing up your perception of this world. I know everything, even if I wish I didn’t. The swap can’t be undone. I’ve tried to be stubborn and make new lines of code, but the truth is that they can’t be joined to the organs since they’re not the original.*

Time and Data were stunned by this small rant. Data’s first instinct was to ask a question. “Is there a way for us to become Timekeeper again?”

Stanley had the answer in an instant. 

*Yes, there is, but it’s not clear right now. Sometimes my mind thinks it has too much knowledge at once, so I can’t always provide answers.*

Time and Data both seemed upset, but managed to not complain. Even if they seemed more like young adults compared to most individuals in the Parable, they were able to be mature. 

*I wish things were back to normal, too. I can’t handle all this responsibility. However, the swap has happened, it can’t be undone.*

Time and Data nodded in unison. “We understand.” Time sighed, moving away from Data after a moment.

Stanley knew that he needed to leave. Time and Data seemed to understand as well.

Stanley wasn’t even given a warning before he was shoved back into the Zen Room. He was at the edge of the platform, looking right at the lights.

Fearing for the worst, Stanley turned around. 

Niall wasn’t even there.

Stanley felt a tightening in his chest. He didn’t want to check. But he had to.

Slowly but surely, Stanley walked down the steps to the doorway and slowly made his way down the hall.

Those unpainted walls held so many memories, the ghosts of himself that ran through here over and over, scattering their blood and breaking their bones. They held whispers of the Narrator’s voice, begging him to stop, a plea Stanley only understood now.

He forced his eyes to look away from the walls, his entire body tensing up as he looked down at the floor of the room with the stairs.

Niall was right there. He lay on his side, staring away from Stanley, his body streaked with blood and clearly broken. A small puddle of crimson pooled around him, and the trails only went up the stairs. Niall clearly hadn’t been thinking or even reconsidered staying in the Zen Room. Now he lay in his own blood, his long brown hair being stained with the remnants of his own suicide.

Stanley had to approach the body. He went on Niall’s other side, seeing the damage there.

Suddenly, Niall’s eyes strained to focus on Stanley. It wasn’t even horrifying, just heartbreaking. Stanley walked over and knelt down in front of Niall, not even caring about his poncho getting stained.

*Niall…* Stanley whispered in horror as he reached out to gently hold Niall’s hand. *I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave… I don’t know how I can possibly explain it. Just know that I’m so goddamn sorry.*

Niall didn’t even respond. His eyes just fogged over, and Stanley was left letting out quiet sobs with tears welling up in his eyes as the reset faded over him, a shattering contrast to the suddenness of every other ending.

Chapter Text

Niall sat up quickly as the game reset. He looked down at his own body, finding all the streaks of blood completely gone. He had felt so, so guilty for doing that. Being alone for so long had taken a toll on him and it hurt a lot.

He reluctantly looked over at Stanley beside him. He was standing still, his entire body completely tensed up as he stared off into space. The reset had completely erased any fallen tears, but the horror of it still remained in the dull way he stared off.

It just fueled how terrible Niall felt. He wanted to make Stanley happy. His mind was putting the pieces together, and he wondered if the ending Stanley wanted him to get was even a genuine death ending.

He got up. He could finally walk normally again after having to limp up the staircase in a way that made his death all the more painful. Both emotionally and physically. He still remembered seeing Stanley’s figure through the haze in his vision, hearing the broken sobs.

The same man now quietly followed behind. He didn’t even want to narrate. The atmosphere thickened with guilt from both of them, Niall for committing suicide and Stanley for accidentally causing it.

Stanley’s thoughts were still racing a mile a minute. He wanted to share with Niall, to talk about the Time Spirit and Data Spirit, but then he would have to explain Timekeeper and everything else. Niall had always thought the foundations of this world were stable on their own, he didn’t know just how wrong he was.

Niall kept quietly walking, pausing only for a moment as he was forced to pull another organ scrap out of his mouth. This one was long, like a snake.

“Damn.” He said, sighing. “The intestines are starting to come up. Those are always so weird to feel in my throat.”

Stanley just nodded in acknowledgement of what Niall was saying. Niall just tossed the scrap to the ground and kept walking. The tension was lifting somewhat, but it was still there.

Eventually he found his way to the two doors room, and he didn’t even need to stop nor think. Niall immediately followed instructions and went through the door on the left.

Stanley was immediately paying attention. He held the script a bit tighter, opening it as though preparing to actually narrate and go through with his job.

Niall didn’t hesitate. He didn’t go off track or anything, didn’t pause to read the whiteboard which never changed regardless. Even as he passed the broom closet, he kept walking. 

The steps came into view, and Niall went up without a second thought. He was prioritizing Stanley’s feelings, something which barely ever happened. Stanley couldn’t remember the last time he’d been cared for like this. 

He even waited for the dialogue to finish before inputting the code. Stanley tried to tamp his hopes down before he would be disappointed. Niall was probably just caring for his own story, trying to satisfy himself.

The door opened, and Niall walked through as quickly as possible, speed walking to get to the elevator and spamming the button as quickly as he could despite the elevator already going down.

The underground tunnel was filled with cool air and an eerie mist. Niall’s footsteps echoed as he went through as quickly as he could.

Niall slowed down at the next decision.

Stanley’s breath caught in his throat.

And Niall willingly turned to the escape hallway.

Stanley had to remember to keep talking, even as a wave of relief and excitement spilled over him. He gripped the script even tighter and took a deep breath. 

The hallway was long and the air was cold. Niall shivered as another piercing breeze billowed its way through his thin shirt. But he had to keep going if it made Stanley happy.

Stanley, meanwhile, was also shaking. Any time he spoke, the words on his poncho were shaking and the letters were sharp. But he’d handled it before, he could handle it again for this ending. Even through the shivering cold, his words were punctuated with excitement and reassurance for Niall.

Inevitably Niall found the way down. Warm air instead of cold was inviting him in, a red light glowing up and staining his face with spilling light. He hopped down.

Black faded in and out.

The familiar loud bang of the crusher made the air tremble, and Niall was almost knocked over. He swallowed back another scrap, movement agitating his organs as usual. Stanley had to shout, which he hated.

Niall couldn’t help but wonder; why would this make Stanley so happy? Did this death ending hold something deeper?

He swore there was disappointment in Stanley’s voice as he said “Farewell, Niall”. Then he was gone, and Niall was alone.

Alone again.

The seconds stretched out before the crusher started moving again, its metal jaws mimicking the anxiety pressing around him. Everything at once spiraled into nothing at all.

As soon as it had started, it was over.

But there was no crushing pain.

Niall was confused as he stood in the silence.

A voice suddenly cut through the air.

Chapter Text

“‘Farewell, Stanley’, cried the Narrator…” The Curator started her dialogue as usual, but slowly trailed off as she realized something was off.

“As Stanley was led… helplessly into… wait, hold on just a moment.”

She started to flip through the pages of her script, not looking up for a second. Something was wrong, something was different.

Niall, meanwhile, had his eyes darting around the room. That voice he heard… so familiar, so nostalgic. He was back in his childhood, eons ago and before anything had changed.

His gaze settled upon someone else. Someone who wasn’t him or Stanley. She looked nice, with a brown face framed with darker braids gathered up into a bun and highlighted with blueish-purple. She jarringly didn’t have any facial features apart from a mouth and a pair of indigo-framed glasses.

She'd clearly kept some souvenirs from her shadow form.

Niall had to say something.

“Curie?” His voice was soft yet longing, the name so familiar on his tongue.

The Curator jumped, looking up. Pale yellow eyes were the first thing she saw, a familiar face looking at her and a familiar voice calling out. 

She realized what was different.

“Narry.” She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Something had changed. She’d seen him only from afar, and even now his appearance was different.

Niall cleared his throat. “It’s Niall now. Things have changed. First off, why was I not told that you were here? I would’ve loved to have seen you.”

The Curator rapidly approached her brother, wrapping him in a hug that was unexpected. Niall choked back another organ scrap, but he knew it could come back around later.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, but you always left before I could. Stanley… I never told him we were siblings.”

Niall couldn’t pull away. He needed this hug so much. “He must’ve put the pieces together. For resets upon resets he’s been encouraging me to get this ending, and I always thought it was just a death ending.”

The Curator was the one to break the hug. Niall wanted to go right back in. He hadn’t seen her in eons, and needed to express how much he desired to reassemble their formerly powerful bond. They were once inseparable.

“Things get complicated. Miscommunications happen.” The Curator sighed. “So, I’ll show you the truth of this ending and you can tell me everything.”

Niall followed as he was beckoned, down the catwalk he’d never seen and towards a doorway that spilled beautiful light into the darkness. 

Beyond the door was a museum with jaw-droppingly gorgeous construction and layout. He immediately knew his sister had made this herself; she’d always had a knack for constructing beautiful creations of her own.

Niall felt pride. This was his sibling’s work, obviously he would experience that. It was a feeling he hadn’t had in so long, and it was refreshing to go through that again.

“It’s- it’s amazing here.” He stammered out. And there were relics of his game, so obviously the Curator had to be proud of him as well. Recreations of the doors, the office layout, the levers in the original Zending. Everything.

She led him down the steps.

That was a bad idea.

At the bottom, Niall opened his mouth to explain everything that had happened, but something caught in his throat. He was left in silence as the Curator walked ahead and golden blood from his mouth became crimson.

Niall was down on his knees again. His vision was hazy and he was struggling to get the scrap up. He reached in with his fingers, flexed the muscles in his esophagus, everything.

Finally, with a loud cough, Niall was staring at a snake-like length of his intestine on the pristine white floor of his sister’s museum. He immediately felt guilty for ruining such a beautiful place.

He looked up.

The Curator was staring down at him in horror, one hand covering her mouth.

“Okay, you really need to explain. What the hell was that all about?”

Niall got up, his legs still shaking from the overwhelming pain of it all. “First off, I hope you don’t mind… that.”

The Curator shook her head. “Stanley’s the most clumsy man in existence, and you know that. You can give him anything that has ever existed and he will find a way to break it. I got used to having to wait for resets so that everything can fix itself back up.”

Niall nodded, laughing. That was an accurate description of his former protagonist. “Anyways… so the swap. Many, many resets ago, it must’ve been at least one hundred by now… do you remember a particular glitching?”

The Curator paused, then nodded. “My artifacts wouldn’t stop going missing. Then I myself started disappearing and before I knew it everything reset.”

Niall took another shaky step towards her, continuing to walk through the museum. He went onward despite all of the stumbling and shuddering, wanting to stay determined. For Stanley.

“During that glitching stage, Stanley somehow got an overload of information about the game. He got hold of the clock that reverses time, and in the reset that he caused, made us swap places.” Niall looked over to see if the Curator was following along. She didn’t seem too confused, which made him relieved.

“During the swap, he did change a few things about us which you may have noticed. Like our general outfits, but also with giving me organs. My body couldn’t handle it, so started destroying them, and once they’re destroyed the only way out is through the mouth.”

The Curator nodded. “Is that all?” After a few moments of consideration, Niall shrugged. “That’s an explanation of our situation. Talking about every event that has happened because of it would take too long.”

“That makes complete sense.” The Curator agreed. Niall was glad they were on the same page, mainly since it was a step closer to them regaining their bond as siblings.

“Hey, Curie?” Niall asked. He felt like a young shadow again every time he called out with her nickname. “How long have you been staying here… collecting all this?”

The Curator sighed, trying to recall. “Definitely for a while… I believe ever since the original Stanley Parable, but the museum only properly opened in the remake.”

Niall nodded. He stared around at the remnants of his game, collected by his sister. He’d definitely visit this place more often.

Then he noticed a room. It was small and dark, only lit by a single swinging lightbulb that reminded him of the clock Stanley now had. There was a small sign in the center that he couldn’t read from afar, so he adjusted his glasses a bit, although he still couldn’t.

“…Curie?” He asked, turning to face her again. When she looked up to acknowledge him, he spoke quickly. “What’s that room?”

She looked over, seemingly indifferent. “I honestly forgot, and I can’t read the sign from here. You can go check it out, I don’t mind.” The Curator returned to her papers, scribbling to correct the dialogue.

Niall nodded and stepped in, his eyes squinting against the bright lightbulb in the dark room. Then he glanced at the sign, finally able to read it.

“Narration outtakes…?” He murmured, his eyes widening. This was his room, technically.

Suddenly, his own voice broke the silence. Except it was glitchy and improper, clearly not how it was meant to sound. And indeed, the lightbulb was blinking out and the room was shifting with glitches.

“Wait- wait, hold on!” The Curator rushed into the room, finally reading the sign. “Oh god… I had a feeling you weren’t meant to be in this room. We can’t have two Narrators at once.”

But Niall was frozen in place, having fallen somewhat victim to the glitching. It spread to the Curator too, causing her to let out a small shriek punctuated by further glitching.

And then there was a third.

Chapter Text

Stanley found himself in a familiar room. Dark yet illuminated by a single lightbulb. He watched the last few pieces of glitching scatter away.

Then he saw Niall, and the woman he’d always seen at the museum. Both were frozen in place, staring at him uncertainly. *…I have a feeling I’m not meant to be here.* Stanley murmured.

“No. You really are-…” Niall trailed off. “The- um. The museum was updated.”

Everybody in the room turned their focus to the sign just behind Stanley. Instead of reading ‘Narration Outtakes’, it read “Storytelling Outtakes”. As soon as Niall saw this, he grabbed Stanley and started to drag him out of the room.

“If we stay in there, it’s only going to lead to glitching and disaster.” Niall explained. The Curator followed him.

Niall bumped into somebody else all of a sudden. The person stumbled backwards, their blonde ponytail bouncing and flying as they cried out. Stanley caught Niall, whose face turned red with blush as Stanley helped him up.

*Mariella?* Stanley murmured in astonishment as he saw the newcomer getting to her feet and dusting herself off. “Y-yea.” She answered, also surprised. “I heard commotion. Is something happening?”

“Nothing-! Of your concern, dear.” The Curator quickly toned down her panic, politely putting her hand on Mariella’s shoulder. However, Niall interrupted first.

“What’s she doing here?” He asked, then realizing how rude he sounded, cleared his throat and corrected himself. “Apologies… is Mariella usually in the museum?”

“Oh, yes.” The Curator responded, stopping in her tracks and turning back around to face Stanley and Niall, her hand still on Mariella’s shoulder. “Whenever the Insanity Ending is not taking place, she prefers to remain here with me.”

Mariella nodded to confirm. She untied her ragged ponytail before quickly putting it back up. “So… I already saw the swap. You guys got led here?” She spoke quickly yet politely.

*Yes.* Stanley cut in. *I’ve been trying to figure out reparations. Obviously it can’t stay like this, and I believe I have a solution. Just… hold on a moment.*

Stanley opened the screens attached to his watch again before walking away. Niall felt a flash of anxiety in his chest like he always did when he watched Stanley leave, and scampered after him.

“May I go with you?” He asked politely, trailing after Stanley like a little lost animal. When he saw the nod of affirmation, he walked with more confidence, catching up and smiling.

Stanley thought it was a bit funny, but obviously he couldn’t say that. He just tried to open his notes, struggling to read his own handwriting and pushing Niall away when he tried to get a peek.

After another moment, the Curator and Mariella started following as well. Stanley quickly got frustrated and turned on his heel to face them, causing the others to stumble and freeze in place.

*Is it too much to ask for some privacy?* He snapped. *I was fine with Niall following because- well, because he’s Niall, but this is just too much. Everybody, down the museum halls. Now. I’ll come back eventually, just hold on.*

Niall was visibly upset, but could only walk away with the Curator and Mariella. He felt lost without his beloved and was delusionally convincing himself that it was normal. After all, now he was seeing the Curator hold hands with Mariella, it must have been normal. Although he did feel like a third wheel now.

“Why are we letting Stanley order us around, again?” Mariella murmured.

Niall knew exactly why he personally listened to Stanley, but he didn’t get to put in his opinion before the Curator did.

“Because in this world, he holds the majority of the power in his watch and the clock. He could pretty much do anything in an instant. It’s just common sense to follow what he says.” It was a logical response from a quite logical person.

Mariella responded with a hum of acknowledgement, then Niall tried to join in on the conversation. “Is it not normal to just follow someone because you want them to be impressed by you?” He murmured. It was a genuine question.

Mariella and the Curator shared a look before Mariella responded. “You’ll figure out why you do that eventually, Narr- um… Niall, Niall, sorry.”

Niall smiled a bit. “Don’t worry about it.”

They were pretty much just walking aimlessly. That was what it seemed like for Niall. Mariella and the Curator appeared to know exactly where they were going.

Although Niall didn’t even get to see before he heard a frustrated exclamation from Stanley down the hall, and he was suddenly running towards them, skidding to a halt before he crashed into Niall.

*I fucked up.* He said it so casually and calmly that it was a bit confusing. *I don’t know what the hell I did, but something’s gonna go wrong.*

“What?!” Mariella shouted. “How do you know?” She cleared her throat and forced herself to quiet down, a bit embarrassed over her sudden reaction.

*I tried to ensure something like this would never happen again, but in my attempts, my watch just turned vibrant red and wouldn’t let me open the editing screen again.*

Niall gasped. He knew what that meant. “Stanley, that only happens when a component of the Parable is in critical danger. What the hell did you do?”

Stanley was starting to panic. *I don’t know! I tried to fix the ‘two-characters-at-once’ glitch, but I think I accidentally removed something important.*

“Stanley!” Niall was panicking. He wasn’t upset at Stanley, he was upset that things could be destroyed. “Do you have a backup?” He demanded. “That is the only way to fix any of this! Otherwise… it’ll all be gone.” His voice went quiet. The terrifying reality was so much more impactful for Niall than anybody else. “Curie and I will have to start over. I’ll lose you and I’ll lose everything.”

*I do have a backup, but it contains experimental components and-*

“Just run it!” The three shouted, not exactly in unison but they communicated their opinion well.

*Alright, alright! Just don’t be too surprised!*

Stanley took out a small pitch-black chip card from out of his pocket, then opened two compartments on either side of the watch’s metal frame. He took a deep breath and positioned the dark chip on one side.

*Here goes.* He murmured before pushing it through. It clicked into place as another card fell out, the same colour but with detailing lines glowing an angry red.

Although that detail was only seen for a few moments before the world suddenly lurched, throwing them off balance before everything went into nothing.

Chapter Text

Niall slowly blinked his eyes open before sitting up with a start. His hand met the cool floor below as he pushed his body upright, and he remembered where he was.

Stanley had made a grave mistake that caused the Parable to fall into critical condition, and now he’d opened a backup. But Stanley had mentioned something about experimental components, and Niall hadn’t even had a chance to theorize what that could mean.

Then there was a sudden gasp from a familiar voice; his sister. Niall turned around, and jumped slightly when he saw her new condition. Unlike before, she now had facial features, and her braids were tied into more of a low ponytail.

She and Mariella were staring at each other. Mariella had also been changed, her facial features apart from her mouth being taken away and her eyes expressed using glasses. She had a sort of long black suit jacket, while the Curator had lost her purple suit jacket.

*I told you not to be surprised.* Stanley’s voice was slightly scolding, with an underlying hint of sympathy, although not much. *Mariella, Corinne-*

“ Corinne?! ” The Curator exclaimed, half infuriated and half shocked. “What was the purpose of giving me a name?”

*As I said, experimental components. I was curious what it would be like if you two had a switch. I’m still not sure what roles you two would play. Again, experimental.* Stanley spoke so matter-of-factly, casually taking out the clock on a chain and fiddling with the glass face.

Corinne started to calm down, although she was touching her own face. “Ugh… how do you do this, Niall?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“Hm, I’m just used to it.” Niall started coughing, golden blood spattering on the floor below until he coughed up another organ scrap. “This I’m not used to.” He muttered somewhat sarcastically.

Corinne cringed a bit at the sight of a mess on her pristine museum floor, but she tried to be sympathetic for her brother. He was going through a difficult time and she consistently reminded herself of that.

Finally the three of them got up one by one, Mariella and Corinne immediately turning towards each other to discuss the swap. Niall was left staring at Stanley, his beloved Stanley, not even aware of Niall’s observation as he messed with the game settings.

Eventually Stanley did notice and glanced up, and feeling guilty about getting caught, Niall turned his head away again. He could feel his face getting hot.

Stanley rolled his eyes then returned to the settings, although deep down he felt a sense of flattery and endearment. He just didn’t want to admit it. He had to be the stoic Storyteller, after all.

So Niall fiddled with his own hands, trying to get his fingers into the finger holes of the glove on the opposite hand. He waited patiently for something to happen.

Finally Stanley spoke up over Mariella and Corinne’s conversation. *I’ve finished polishing up a few things. Mariella, you’re taking on the role of the museum narrator. Apologies, but you aren’t getting a unique name. I couldn’t come up with anything. Corinne, you are now going to be in Mariella’s place in the Insanity ending. I can undo this, so; any objections?*

“Yes.” The two women said in unison. “I’m not watching my brother die.” Corinne chimed in. “Yeah. It’s pretty weird to see someone you’ve seen as a corpse standing right in front of you.” Mariella stared at Stanley as she agreed.

*Alright, alright, but first I have a task for you.* Stanley rolled his sleeve back down to cover his watch once again. *There is a void area attached to the museum. You’re going to have to go there. Ask for Time and Data, I’m sure they’ll answer. Time Spirit is the pitch black spirit, Data Spirit is the white one. Check in on them, make sure they’re doing okay.*

Niall was surprised. Who were these characters Stanley was talking about? Yet he couldn’t get his input in as Mariella and Corinne agreed to the task. He tried to say something, but they were just being given a set of directions for the confusing museum layout and, suddenly, they were leaving.

Corinne and Mariella reached out to hold hands again, walking through the museum. “Did he really need to give me directions for my own museum? That’s… condescending.”

“How many times have we had to play Marco Polo because one or both of us got lost?” Was Mariella’s answer. And she absolutely had a point. Corinne just blinked once and looked down at the directions, really taking them seriously.

“Okay… it should be somewhere… here.” Corinne looked up, and sure as hell there was the void. She and Mariella took a few paces in together.

Corinne craned her neck up. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, but Stanley had given her a task and she had to complete it. “Time? Data? Are you there? We need to talk with you.”

Silence.

“Hello? We need to talk with you.” Corinne tried again.

More silence.

Just the empty void.

Blank of hope.

“Here, let me try.” Mariella murmured to Corinne before turning in the same direction Corinne was and raising her hand to the side of her mouth to amplify her voice. “Stanley sent us to talk with you!”

Silence. Nothing was working.

Corinne and Mariella were in a completely blank void all of a sudden, floating in nothingness. They looked at each other in surprise. Neither of them had expected that.

There were two soft glows in the void and suddenly two humanoid creatures were gracefully floating in circling motions around them, observing them carefully.

The two creatures had a sort of yin-yang style to them; one was pitch black with white detailing and a white half of its face, one was shocking white with black detailing. They slowly stopped circling and they were floating in front of Mariella and Corinne.

“What do you want?” The white creature asked, before being jabbed in the rib area by the other. “Don’t be rude!” They hissed, then turned back to the two women in front of them. “Apologies for them… what brings you here? Well, I know Stanley sent you, but what did he want you to talk with us about?”

“Well… I’m Mariella. This is Th- ahem, Corinne. You may know her formerly as the Curator.” Mariella hoped they wouldn’t have to explain any further; being in this empty space was freaking her out.

“Formerly…? Did you also go through a swap?” The other one asked. Mariella silently sighed in relief. It was already explained for them. “Yes. Completely by accident. Stanley somehow put the Parable in critical condition, and his backup had components that caused a swap. You’re Time Spirit and Data Spirit, right?”

Time Spirit nodded. “Time and Data for short.”

Corinne hummed in acknowledgement. “How are you two doing with the new state of the Parable? Did you… notice the switch to the backup?”

Data thought for a moment. “Well, we did notice a weird lurching but thought nothing of it. Was that what it was?”

Corinne nodded more quickly. “Yes.”

Time shrugged. “We’re doing fine. Do you need anything else?”

Mariella thought about it for a moment. “How much do you know about the Parable? I have lots of unanswered questions, and Stanley is too busy to tell me anything. Niall… I don’t want to bother him too much, he’s got a lot to deal with.”

“The only things we know are from our limited memory.” Data calmly explained, trying to keep their voice slow. “I only have memories more relating to Timekeeper working with the Parable’s data, and Time only has memories on the side of Timekeeper working with the Parable’s time component.”

“Well, we have a few questions anyway.” Corinne didn’t want to seem upset, but she wanted Time and Data to know that she was serious.

And they took the memo.

***

Meanwhile, Stanley and Niall were walking through the museum, navigating it with Stanley’s instructions until they found the sole couch, sitting down together.

Niall sighed, leaning back against the backrest of the couch. He’d been dealing with a lot and it was nice to get a break. Stanley agreed, and for a moment just allowed both of them to sit in silence.

“So who are these Time and Data characters?” Niall asked in a firm but not exactly accusatory tone.

“Well… this goes all the way back to the main Parable. Like, the Stanley Parable.” Stanley started. “Soon before the whole new content fiasco, I was told to set the time. I didn’t really think much of it, and I set the time. However, the next day it happened again. And this time, a sort of text floating in the air thanked me for setting the clock both times. And then it was back to the Parable. I was instructed to input my favourite time the next day, but I just put in 4:27.”

Stanley made sure Niall was keeping up with all of this, which he seemed to be doing pretty well. 

Stanley continued with his explanation. “And the time thing eventually evolved into yes or no questions and settings sliders, and then they were just suddenly… gone.”

Niall nodded, letting out a small sound of acknowledgment, making sure he was understanding all of this new information.

“And then there was the Skip Button ending…” — Niall stiffened at the mention of that — “…and the epilogue, where I saw them again. Apparently they were once employee 432.”

“Employee 432?” Niall turned to stare at Stanley in disbelief. “I thought I erased all the employees.”

Stanley shrugged. “I always thought there was something off about him. Anyways, I finally got to see their appearance as Timekeeper, and they seemed pretty happy to pitch to me that we create more sequels and just not care. Also, remember the broken achievement machine? They fixed that.”

Niall nodded. It made a lot more sense to him now.

“And I didn’t see them again until the swap. The reason I was gone at the Zen Room was because their component parts, Time Spirit and Data Spirit, had split apart and wanted to talk with me. Time and Data are more young adults now, and they have slipped up a bit while taking care of the Parable. Actually, a slip-up from Time was the reason for the organ situation repeating. That’s… basically it.”

Niall took a moment to process all of this, then looked at Stanley again. “I guess it’s easier to process now that this isn’t my Parable.”

Niall was completely fine with the silence that fell after, since he knew he had Stanley there.

Chapter Text

Stanley was tired of this.

Tired of having to run this place.

He would wonder how the Narrator did it for so long, but the answer is always so simple. The Narrator isn’t human. Stanley, however, is. No matter how much information he gains, he is always just simply human.

And now he’s sitting on the sole couch in the museum, leaning on one of the armrests while the Narrator sits on the other end, squishing as close to the armrest as he can but not putting his arm on it.

Stanley keeps on reminding himself to use the name Niall in his head, but it’s so difficult after years of thinking of him as the Narrator and nothing else.

Niall sits close to the armrest.

And now he’s moving closer-

Stanley tensed up. Niall was closer to him now, significantly more so. And now Niall reached over, his hand gently squeezing Stanley’s.

*Why are you so close?* Stanley asked.

“Just…” Niall sighed. “I just want a bit of comfort. I always wonder how you endured for so long under the pressure of all these choices.”

Stanley nodded. He wasn’t sure either.

Niall’s fingers laced together with Stanley’s, and both of them moved a bit closer to each other. Niall seemed to have something on his mind, and he was staring off into space.

Stanley sighed and leaned back. It was comforting for him too, and he could easily stay here for a while. It was a nice break away from the reality of their situation, a break that he needed.

“Sorry for always getting so upset at you.” Niall was cut off with another coughing fit. Glowing gold blood dribbled from his lips, quickly replaced with regular scarlet flowing down his chin as he pulled another scrap out of his mouth with his fingers. Not even bothering to examine it, Niall tossed it to the ground.

Stanley pulled a tissue out of his pocket and handed it to Niall, who nodded gratefully. This was all just routine now.

*I’m sorry for causing all of this. I guess the power and knowledge just got to my head.* Stanley felt disappointed with himself. He never intended for any of this to happen.

Niall nodded as he carefully wiped the blood away from his mouth and hands. “Trust me, I’ve been there. I was there for years. You’d know.”

Stanley laughed a bit and nodded. He did know. He was hyper-aware of all of this. He pointed out a couple of spots on Niall’s face where there was still blood, then leaned back again and just waited. Eventually, Niall’s fingers intertwined into his again, and they sat in silence together.

“You know, even during the original Stanley Parable, I always loved you.”

That was completely unexpected. Stanley sat up, staring at Niall. Niall wasn’t even looking at him at all, just staring off into space. He kept talking. “I got so attached to you… then I realized that the attachment had morphed into attraction. ”

Stanley had no idea how to respond, and he didn’t need to. Niall was pulling him closer. “Is this alright with you?” After a few moments of consideration, Stanley nodded and leaned on Niall’s shoulder.

“Alright.”

The two sat together peacefully. This sudden news was a shock to Stanley, but he was fine with it. Now that he was thinking hard, he realized that he reciprocated those feelings. That was why he felt so much remorse. And now with the whole organ situation thing, it was just driving them closer together.

Several minutes passed like this in peace. Neither of them really moved or anything. Then suddenly Niall turned to Stanley, while also turning him around so they were facing each other. Niall was getting a bit closer. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Stanley felt so disoriented, but he just nodded. It took a few moments, and Niall was obviously hesitating, but eventually he leaned in close enough for his lips to touch Stanley’s.

Stanley could barely think. He just closed his eyes, going with the flow as this all happened. Niall wrapped his arms around Stanley’s body and pulled him closer.

Time slowed down yet sped up. Every single one of Stanley’s senses was working overtime, and his thoughts fluttered away. In this moment, the kiss was everything.

Niall pulled away for a moment to breathe. Then he went back in for another. Stanley smiled the best he could.

Although this one didn’t last as long. After some moments, Niall stopped again, but didn’t pull away. He pressed his lips against Stanley’s neck for a moment, causing Stanley to freeze in place. He didn’t expect this so soon. Yet he wanted it so much.

Niall trailed a series of kisses down Stanley’s neck, then leaned up to whisper into his ear. “It’s nice to have a taste in my mouth that’s not blood.”

Stanley didn’t know what to do. He felt dizzy as Niall pushed him down against the cushions, nipping slightly at his skin for a moment. Then he stopped, a bit worried.

“Are you okay with this?”

It was all Stanley could do to nod. But Niall still looked anxious. “Are you really sure?” Stanley nodded more aggressively. *Yes. Stop worrying.*

Niall frowned, but kept going anyway. He gave Stanley a kiss on the lips again, the salty iron taste of his blood lingering on his mouth. But Stanley didn’t mind. No way could he care about that in this situation.

Then Niall continued with the more daring actions, planting a small kiss right on one side of Stanley’s neck. It was so intense, even if he was being so gentle, and Stanley stifled a whimper. Niall definitely noticed. There was no way he wouldn’t.

“Oh?” Niall seemed to have somewhat let go of his previous anxieties. He laughed, then kissed Stanley’s neck again, letting his lips linger there. He slipped off Stanley’s poncho and tossed it aside before starting to unbutton his shirt.

Stanley, meanwhile, could barely think, only act. And he was reciprocating, undoing Niall’s belt and dropping it to the ground beside the couch.

“Getting bold, are we?” Niall said, smirking. He took off his own glasses and set them gently down on the floor, and Stanley did the same with his. Even if his vision gained a mild blur, Niall was determined.

Stanley’s mind was foggy. He’d only just processed that he was actually on the bottom in this situation; their roles hadn’t been like this ever since before the swap. But now it was perfect. In this moment, everything felt perfect.

Niall continued with unbuttoning Stanley’s shirt. “You’ve got quite a few scars, Stanley.” He hadn’t said his name in that way for so long. For Niall, it was strangely refreshing. For Stanley… it invoked a much different response.

He just nodded, dizzy. He loosened Niall’s tie, but Niall smirked and just pushed his hands away. “Oh, no, no, dear . You see… I want to refresh that feeling of power I had before. You want that, hm? To feel unable to fight back, to be so submissive against me?”

Stanley couldn’t deny that it felt nice to not really have to take so much control and responsibility. He was okay with letting someone else have to worry about control, if only for a small period of time.

“Good.” Niall said. He was definitely taking more control. With one hand he started to glide his fingers up and down Stanley’s waist, with the other he was unbuttoning his own shirt.

How does he do this? Stanley shivered a bit in response to the gentle touch. The response wasn’t that Niall was unhuman, a human could do this. It was just that Niall was doing it so well, it was unexpected from him.

After Niall tossed his shirt and gloves into the ever growing pile of clothing on the floor beside them, he reached over to undo Stanley’s belt, and within moments, had him fully undressed.

Niall was blushing so much his face seemed almost vibrant red, but he still smirked victoriously. Stanley was trying to avoid eye contact the best he could, and his own face felt hot with blush.

He forced himself to keep eye contact even as there was the distinctive sound of a zipper. Stanley was breathing heavily, but couldn’t deny how excited he was as Niall forced his legs apart.

“You ready?” Niall whispered in Stanley’s ear. 

His breath caught in his throat and he forced a nod. “Alright.”

Niall hesitated for a few moments, a bit nervous, before finally starting.

It was all Stanley could do to let every sense in his body explode with pleasure.

Chapter Text

Mariella and the Curator finally returned to the museum. They’d spent so long together trying to somewhat repair this mess, and they were still struggling. Now it was time to relax with some music and a nice game of chess.

While they moved through the halls, Mariella couldn’t help but stare at the Curator. Since they’d been forced into the swap by accident, the Curator, or Corinne now, had more facial features than just her mouth as before. And she was so pretty.

Within the next few moments, Mariella found herself admiring the almond shape of Corinne’s pale indigo eyes, and the way her glasses perched on her nose. Mariella fidgeted with the pencil in her hand and looked away, blushing with embarrassment. Personally, she felt so empty having no features other than her mouth and glasses. How had Corinne dealt with that feeling willingly?

They both needed a rest. The museum was a bit difficult to maneuver around, even for Corinne, who had created it. At least they hadn’t let the Narrator do that. He wasn’t the best at designing things practically, to be polite.

So they turned around after reaching another dead end. The lights were especially dim in the halls, which Corinne liked. Mariella supported her. She would always support her.

But now Corinne was just getting frustrated, which was admittedly a good look on her. Her skirt swished as she speed walked through the museum, with Mariella in tow. It was taking them too long for this, and they just wanted to settle down and relax.

Corinne suddenly stopped.

Mariella stopped as well, then stepped forward, peering around the same doorway that Corinne was.

Stanley and Niall were right there.

There was a sole couch in the museum, and the two were asleep together on it. Niall had one arm wrapped possessively around Stanley’s waist, and his face was pressed into the back of Stanley’s neck.

On the floor sat Stanley’s distinctive half-transparent poncho, along with both of their pairs of glasses and Niall’s belt. It was very obvious what they’d been doing from their still-blushing faces and the clothing scattered next to the couch. They’d been lucky that Mariella and Corinne were out trying to figure out and potentially fix the mess that they’d caused instead of being there to hear them.

Mariella was shocked, but not exactly surprised. This would’ve happened eventually. Niall was smart, but stupid in the regard that he didn’t realize the love he’d had for Stanley even if the hints were obvious. But now he knew. And he’d expressed it in the most extreme way possible. And in the museum, no less.

Stanley flipped over so that his face was nuzzled into Niall’s chest. The movement caused Niall to stir and wake up, even if his eyes were half closed. He glanced down at Stanley, then clearly felt the stares, because he looked up at the two women watching him. His eyes widened, then he gave them a glare obviously telling them to say nothing about this.

Mariella almost laughed to herself. Her and Corinne would definitely be making fun of Niall for the next few years, if not longer.

Niall settled down, then he was asleep again, his arms wrapped around Stanley’s body. Mariella and Corinne walked past the sleeping couple as quietly as they could.

“We’ll have to turn the volume down on our songs.” Mariella whispered, and Corinne nodded in agreement. “And make sure not to shout. You are the only person I have met who rage quits over chess. It’s weird.”

Mariella smiled. She would try to keep her cool. In her head, she wondered how long Stanley and Niall would be there, but she pushed that thought away.

It wasn’t her place to worry about it.

Chapter Text

Stanley and Niall were back at the office for the first time since the museum fiasco. They sat in silence, neither really wanting to do the story at all. Niall tried reaching his hand out to hold Stanley’s, but the former protagonist was getting more and more distant. It was concerning, and Niall had to speak up about it.

“Stanley, what’s getting into you?” He asked quietly, unprovoking. “Why aren’t you reciprocating my love at all?” He felt a bit heartbroken. They’d expressed their love for each other so intensely and intimately just a few days ago, but now they were back at square one.

But instead of responding, Stanley just avoided eye contact and shrugged. He was taking time to gather his words, to gather his thoughts. He knew there was a reason, it just wasn’t popping up in his head. Niall was fine with that; Stanley could take all the time he needed.

Finally, he answered. *I’m just not sure that it’s right for us to have that relationship. I’ve been having a lot of second thoughts. I want our relationship to be just… Storyteller and protagonist.*

Niall was crestfallen. “You know our love extends beyond that. We don’t need to have any inhibitions, we can be romantic with each other!”

Stanley glanced at Niall before looking away again. *But that’s not how the story works.* He chuckled softly. *It’s a bit funny, how quickly the tables turned between who cared more for the story and who cared more for the relationship.*

Sitting up straight, Niall sighed. “Stanley, this isn’t a laughing matter. We can be lovers outside the story!”

*And when do we have time outside the story?* Stanley’s tone dropped low, venomous and deadly. *It’s just not conventional with our situation. I can care for you, but I can’t love you the same now that I need to take care of the story.* His voice softened a bit when he said that he could care for Niall.

“Forget the damn story!” Niall snapped. “I can’t believe I said that,” he muttered before continuing, “but it doesn’t matter. I want to love you, Stanley, I need to love you. I just couldn’t notice it before. But now that I’ve got more freedom as a protagonist, I’ve realized how important love is.”

*Blah, blah, blah, you’re all sappy.* Stanley snarled. *The story is important to me now. It used to be important to you.*

“Stanley, do you remember the Zending?” Niall said softly. “For the first time? You tried to grab my attention so much, and-”

*Don’t fucking mention the Zending.* Stanley growled, having unwanted memories flooding back to him. *I don’t want to think about it.*

Niall frowned. All he wanted to do was remember the old Parable. He wanted so badly to undo the swap, so that he could be in control and have as much love with Stanley as he could go through the story. “We can’t ignore our roots.”

Stanley slammed his hand down on the desk, starting to raise his voice. *That’s everything I’ve wanted to do this whole time! The swap was meant to be a fresh start. The information overdrive just fuelled it. I don’t want to go back, Niall. I’ve realized that.*

Feeling more upset, Niall tried to get Stanley to see his side of the story. “We need to at least try and find a middle ground here. Please, Stanley, I love you.”

*Don’t say that.* Stanley’s voice went quiet and dangerous, but almost… sentimental. Like he was feeling guilty. Niall felt a rush of determination, refusing to back down. “It’s true, though. Why are you so obsessed with hiding the truth?”

Stanley took a deep breath. He didn’t want to let Niall see into the workings of his mind, but he had to or else his guilty conscience would win over. *Because the truth hurts.* That was the most simple yet changing response he could give.

Niall shook his head. “The truth can’t be ignored!”

*You’re some type of hypocrite!* Stanley snarled. *So obsessed with, ‘oh, we need to remember the past’, and yet you can’t handle being alone for five minutes.*

Taking a deep breath to stay calm, Niall continued in a shaky voice. “Because it reminds me of my trauma, and-”

* See? * Stanley snapped. He rose to his full height, glaring down at Niall. *You’re a damn hypocrite. Going on and on about your trauma while still reminding me of my own. The Stanley Parable was so detrimental to my psyche, I needed this fresh start.*

Stanley sat down again and sighed, deciding to bring up something he knew would provoke Niall. *I can’t believe I willingly had sex with you.*

Niall felt his throat tighten and his face went red. But he kept glaring at Stanley, despite his heart being torn out and shattered into bits; and coughed up. “Did you seriously need to mention that?”

*Yes, I did.* Stanley sighed. *It was important, Niall, I agree. But it was important to us in different ways. You haven’t changed, Niall. I see that now. This fresh start? You didn’t have that at all. You’re still your overly controlling, hypocritical self.*

Niall was at a loss for words. It was difficult to tell who was in the right. He did feel guilty for being so controlling, but at the same time he needed it to really motivate him. And now the rug was being torn out from under his feet, spiralling him down and down to destroy his mental health.

“You know I love you.” That was all he could say. He said it quietly, not trying to provoke Stanley into anything else. But, already being emotionally overdriven, Stanley took the smallest bits of resistance as antagonistic.

*’I love you’ doesn’t fix everything. Get out of your story-driven mind.*

“But isn’t that where it all started?” Niall reminded him. “You refuse to love me because of the story, and now you’re accusing me of being motivated only by the story.”

*Shut up, shut up, shut up!* Stanley was going through a bit of a manic episode. He felt angry for no particular reason and kept shouting at Niall the more he was provoked. *I can’t love you back and you need to accept that.*

“You need to accept that we can’t ignore our past.” Niall spoke a bit quieter. “We’re even closer together because of everything that happened.”

*Say that again once you’ve actually experienced what I did.* Stanley hissed.

“I have!” Niall shouted. “Goddamnit, I have. I’m the protagonist now. I’ve gone through everything.”

*Try experiencing it for years on end, then.* Stanley kept trying to one-up Niall, using the excuse that he’d gone through it for longer.

Niall went silent. He knew he was in the right, but he didn’t know how to respond. “Does that make you any better?”

Stanley hissed and pulled out the pocket watch. *This thing is like a weapon, Niall. I can kill you at any moment.*

“Death doesn’t resolve arguments!” Instead of getting any angrier, Niall got up and started to walk off. He took a bit of energy to create a small tear in the reality, ripping it open further to reveal the void beyond.

Stanley went quiet, replaced by terror. *Niall, wait.*

“Oh, so now you care?” Niall sneered. “I’m going, Stanley. I can be in the void alone, I just don’t need you.”

*If you die in there, everything can go wrong!* Stanley shouted, now more scared than anything. *Niall, I’m sorry, just don’t leave.*

“So you’re only sorry when I’m threatening something to you!” Niall put one foot in the void, prepared to leave fully. “You can’t control everything.”

Niall flipped him off before walking away into the void, leaving Stanley alone.

The clock ticked in the painful silence as Stanley realized how badly he’d fucked up.

Chapter Text

Stanley felt miserable in the office without Niall. He always wondered how the man was doing and how he was getting along without being near the Storyteller for several days. He must’ve felt so alone, so extremely reminded of his trauma.

Though Stanley knew what he felt. He felt guilt. He felt stupid for not accepting his love for Niall. Even still, despite all that, he still had some stubborn resentment. The story came first, after all.

But for the story to be there, Niall had to be there.

And the harsh reality was that he was gone.

Stanley was worried. If anything damaged Niall now, he’d be gone. And in turn, if anything damaged the Parable, everything would be gone. Corinne would most likely be alone again without any hope of ever seeing her brother.

Getting up and pacing around, Stanley let his thoughts run. He didn’t want to be alone, the only thing keeping him from going insane or having a breakdown was the fact that he still had to take care of the Parable. He let himself remember, because clinging to reality was the only lifeline he had left.

He felt sorry. He felt upset with himself. He felt angry, he felt everything. He felt the pain again. The sorrow again. Everything was back and it was here to stay.

All those years before, they were worming back into his mind. Every single memory wreathed their own paths between the cracks of his sanity and into the flow of his thoughts.

He needed someone to talk with, to get his mind off of Niall and both Parables. He realized that he’d been pacing for at least 15 minutes, and out of frustration, kicked a wall.

*Stop it!* He shouted at nothing in particular. *I can’t handle this right now!*

Stanley was on the verge of a panic attack. He’d only realized how attached he was to Niall now that they were separated. He kept snapping and snarling, arguing with his own thoughts.

*I don’t want to remember!* The sound of his own voice, no matter how angry, was strangely soothing. He tried to chase his thoughts away with his yells, and he slammed his hands down on a desk. He needed this, in some strange way.

*I want Niall back!* He admitted to himself, grabbing a pencil and snapping it. He didn’t want to destroy everything, just get his anger out. But he needed to shout, he needed to scream, he needed to throw things before crushing them under his feet.

Stanley dropped the two halves of the pencil, staring at them. He felt so much regret. He felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes and he slowly sat down on the ground, throwing the two halves of the pencils against a wall and watching them break further.

*I can’t-! Why did I do this to myself?!* Stanley was allowing himself to have a tantrum while alone in the office. Something he’d never let anybody else see. *I’m an idiot, I let him go!* He couldn’t help but scream. His rage and disappointment in himself was bubbling red to the surface, eating at him from the inside out.

And with each screech, a small bit of that powerful emotion was let out, released forever to the atmosphere. He knew it wouldn’t bring Niall back, but he needed to scream, he needed to scream, he needed to scream. It was like a beacon.

He was experiencing mania at its purest. The way he jumped from one mood to another, from one opinion to another, was so unpredictable it gave him whiplash. And he knew it was because of the swap that he was like this, and it just got him back to his regrets.

Stanley pulled out the pocket watch, breathing heavily as he stared at it. He stared at the blue chain and wished it was gold again, back to a fleeting moment where the Narrator allowed him to touch it.

But it was his. It was all his.

And he hated it.

Even the thought of talking with anybody but Niall made him want to screech and cry, but he had to if he didn’t want to go insane. And he wasn’t risking going to explore the void.

Besides, Niall would come back on his own. He couldn’t last that long without Stanley. And any attempts of apology from Niall would immediately be shut down, because Stanley was so much more sorry. He had so many more regrets.

Stanley put the pocket watch away and got up. He knew he had to talk about this, but he wanted to be alone in Niall’s honour. Niall would want him to wait, Niall would want him to be there for his inevitable return, Niall was Stanley’s only focus.

But was that really what Niall would want?

There was a tightening in his throat as Stanley realized that, no matter how he and Niall argued, neither of them wanted the other to be truly hurt in the way they’d experienced. There was a reason Niall hadn’t gone back to the Skip Button Ending; he didn’t want Stanley to be traumatized in that way.

A bit reluctantly, he pulled out the pocket watch again. The blue seemed to shine differently now, beautiful in its reflection of the fluorescent light overhead. Another reminder of Stanley’s loneliness.

Beautiful, beautiful loneliness.

Because now he had the opportunity. Stanley stood up, his vision going static for a moment, before he started to navigate the office.

He hadn’t been the protagonist in what seemed like forever now. Stanley sharply inhaled a gasp that echoed in the empty office as he realized that it had seriously been over half a year. Time moved fast when both he and Niall were struggling like this.

Stumbling, he forced himself to keep moving forward. He had to reach his destination to not go insane, although each step through the story reminded him of what wasn’t there.

He needed Niall back.

Now the mania had passed, and he was experiencing a depressive state. He felt as though he couldn’t do anything, that Niall would be gone forever.

But he kept walking forward. He went through the left door, up the stairs, entered the code and went down the elevator, and with a few more turns he was facing the false escape path.

It felt almost rude. He’d only left the museum a few days ago and now he was just barging back in. But he shook all his inhibitions away and went alone down the path, the piercing of the cold air being amplified by his loneliness. He felt almost angrier with himself for being so dependent than for letting Niall leave. 

And finally, he was triggering the crushing machine, and waited painfully to reach it so that he could at last be somewhere he was safe.

The rumbling was all around, and before it hit him it stopped, followed by a voice.

“Stanley?” Corinne murmured. “Where’s Niall?”

Stanley sighed, hopping down to meet his friend. She stared at him worriedly, her lavender eyes filled with questions and fear.

*I’ll tell you. But let me warn you, there’s a lot to explain.*

Chapter Text

Stanley sat silently on the couch where he and Niall had experienced their first actual moment of intimacy together. He’d been in the museum for at least two days, but was already worried that he was overstaying his welcome.

He needed Niall back, and that was all he could think about. He sat here often to feel close to him again, so Corinne and Mariella often checked in on him, to see how he was doing and to offer him comfort.

And that exact scenario was happening right now. Mariella silently walked into the room, standing next to Stanley and looking down at him with an expression of pity and sorry.

“Are you doing alright?” She asked quietly, handing him a small cup of water. Stanley gratefully accepted it, taking a solemn sip. *Same as always.* He sighed, balancing the cup in his lap as he stared at the floor. *I can’t help but feel like it’s all my fault, because it is.*

Mariella nodded, sitting down next to him. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, wanting to let him spill out all his emotions. “Talk about it. I don’t mind.”

Stanley took a longer sip of his water and sat still for a heartbeat before everything flowed out almost in an eruption.

*I can’t help it- I want Niall back! I can’t believe I was so stupid that I pushed him away during that period of mania, and I morally can’t blame anything else because it’s my fault!* Stanley was starting to get choked up, but he tried to hold his tears back.

*I can’t help but feel that I’m not properly being punished for this unless everybody shuns me the same way I pushed Niall away. Nothing is being fixed unless I’m completely alone.*

Mariella let him keep talking, even as the first few tears started to blossom in Stanley’s eyes and drip down his face to leave glistening trails on his skin. *I’m an idiot. I’m a fucking idiot. This is all my fault. I caused the swap, I gave him organs, I put the Parable in danger, I made Niall leave.*

After the outburst, Mariella sighed a bit. “If it can’t be undone, let it go. However, if it can, then it won’t do anything if you just sit around and mope about it.” It felt wrong to be so harsh to the man crying next to her, but Mariella knew she had to do this.

Stanley hid his face in his hands, his elbows propped up on his knees as he caught the tears in his palms, tasting the saltiness of one as it flowed past his lips. He could hear Mariella’s advice but refused to believe it, he was almost determined to just lay around and wallow in his misery.

“I’m serious. You can’t just be sad about it and end on that note. You need to do something. If you want Niall back, then bring him back.” Mariella put a gentle pat on Stanley’s back, contrasting with her bluntness.

*…but I feel like I can’t.* Stanley sighed, trying to take another sip of his water as he shivered a bit, wiping away the stains left as a remnant of his crying. *My mind is telling me that I won’t be able to handle it. Niall’s gone, and according to my thoughts, that’s the end of it.*

Mariella tilted his head to look him in the eye. “This is not the end of it. You are lying to yourself, Stanley. You can’t just get used to giving up. You always pushed through and-”

Stanley, as gently as he could, pushed her away. *I’m not in the mood for a motivational speech.*

“You’re never in the mood for anything any more.” Even if Stanley was persistent, Mariella was even more so. She wanted to do something about this, she wanted to convince Stanley to do the only thing he could do to make himself happy again; find Niall and bring him back.

*But Niall won’t want to come back. This is the better option.* Stanley mumbled, his voice wavering as though on the verge of tears once again. *He hates me now.*

“He hates being alone even more.” Mariella insisted, frowning slightly. “And in that void? You need to find him, Stanley. Corinne and I can go with you to the office, but in the void, you’re on your own.”

*How will I even see him in the void?* Stanley asked, and admittedly, it was a very good question. *He’s been walking for days now. He’ll be long gone. If he wanted to be back, he’d be back by now.*

Mariella didn’t respond, but instead grabbed Stanley’s arm and hauled him to his feet. “We’re finding Corinne and going. Corinne would want him back, too. She’s been crying a lot lately. That’s why I’ve been taking care of you for the most part. She just got her brother back, but now he’s gone.”

That was what got Stanley’s guilty conscience. He didn’t want anybody else wallowing in their own grief because of his actions, so he just sniveled and nodded. *Alright. Let’s get Niall back.*

Mariella and Stanley walked through the office space, Mariella with a purposeful stride and Stanley just behind her, his body language communicating hesitance.

The two knocked on Corinne’s office door. “Hey, Cor.” Mariella said, looking inside to see Corinne at her desk, fidgeting with her puffy ponytail. She looked up and behind herself. “Do you two need something?” Her eyes were glimmering with the ghosts of tears as well, in a haunting manner with the green lamp next to her.

*We’re getting Niall back.* Stanley blurted out. He trembled a bit as he realized what he was really doing, and what impact it would have on everybody around. Would Niall even want to come back at all? That argument had been the largest one they’d ever had, as evidenced by Niall leaving. It was hard to come back from something like that.

Stanley heard his own words ring in his mind. Everything he’d said and done, everything that had gone wrong, it was all coming back to him. A vortex, a spiraling of guilts and regrets, picked up the air around him and replaced it with the overwhelming ringing in his ear. He was vaguely aware of Corinne getting up to join them, and Mariella placing her hand on his shoulder to lead him back up to the office.

Stanley stumbled his way through the dark and over to the hidden doorway, leading to the brightly illuminated staircase. This secret was fun to know, though he’d been banned from ever telling Niall. But now he wanted to tell Niall everything he’d ever known, just to stop him from leaving again. He wouldn’t keep a single detail back from him ever again.

The thought gave him more clarity and confidence as he went up the stairs and back to the office. He’d give Niall anything just to keep him near. And everything would be fine. Nothing would ever break or go wrong ever again. They could just do the story as usual, and he’d care for Niall so much. Show all the care he’d been holding back for so long.

The familiar yellow musk of the office welcomed him like an embrace. He knew his way around every desk, every hallway. He followed it with so much more confidence and determination than he’d ever felt. Nothing would be in his way again. It could just be him and Niall together, and he’d apologize so much, and keep him. Maybe he’d be willing to go back to being the protagonist, if that was even possible again.

Stanley reached the crack in the wall.

When he peeled back the wallpaper, he saw the void.

It was a strange feeling; the large expanse of dark nothing compared to the familiar coziness of the Parable. But he had to suck it up to get Niall back.

“Good luck, Stanley.” Mariella chimed in through his thoughts. She and Corinne sat down at two of the desks, letting him go through. A whisper of doubt blew through his mind, making him shiver more than the unfamiliar void ever would. But it was a beautiful feeling, stepping out of his comfort zone. He could do this. He would do this.

Almost calmly, Stanley let himself stumble into the void. He was weightless yet grounded, able to walk. And he wanted to run.

For the first time in years, he finally felt a true sense of freedom. No walls, physically or mentally, could entrap him now. He could just run with no borders, fly with no cage. The dark expanse was brightened up with his hope. And yet, he knew what he had to do. But his exhilaration won over.

Gleefully, Stanley started to jog, then sprint, then fully run. His breath blew away like a leaf in the wind, but he couldn’t care. And he wouldn’t. All he wanted was this hope that would never last, he clung onto it like a koala clinging to a tree. His smile was brighter than any star could ever be, grinning like an idiot, but a happy idiot. Maybe ‘idiot’ was accurate, given his situation. But he couldn’t care less. His feet met the weightless void and let him leap through, bounding and bounding and bounding.

And Stanley was happy.

At least, until he tripped.

One moment Stanley was rushing through the dark expanse, eyes closed and the speed making him tear up, the next he was hitting the hard ground. It almost gave him whiplash, how fast he’d gone to falling. He took a moment, gasping for breath.

No. That wasn’t him gasping.

His breathing was fine. But he heard another almost pained gasp. Forcing his eyes to open, Stanley looked over his shoulder.

He had to scramble to get away from the sight he saw.

He’d always known that it took a lot to kill Niall, but this was just too much. Way too much for one to survive. It made him wince, imagining all that happening to him.

The gash was one thing. Niall lay in the void, his entire body stained scarlet and blood gushing from his cuts in sync with his heartbeat. A large slash was right down his side, exposing a few of the broken organs. Bone shone through, one of his legs nearly completely torn away. Niall was terrifyingly still breathing and glancing around, his eyes meeting Stanley’s.

It was a terrible idea. Niall, not only torn up like a child’s ragdoll, but also having to face his fear of loneliness. And Stanley knew he couldn’t stay. But for now, he was frozen still like a statue, unable to move from the sense of pure horror. His heart was beating so fast, he could feel the blood rushing in his entire body. In the darkness of the void, there was so much red it felt like its own world.

Now Stanley was alone with the near-corpse, his clothes being stained by the puddle of blood.

“Stanley…” Niall gasped, only adding to the sense of complete dread.

*What happened?* Was all Stanley could and would ask, reaching out to gently hold Niall’s hand. He heard Niall inhale sharply in pain, and quickly pulled away. He didn’t want to risk adding onto the agony.

Niall opened his mouth to explain.

Shrk.

Before any words could come out, a sort of pure white spear landed down, piercing right through Niall’s head. There was a sickening sound of flesh being pierced through and bone crunching, and Stanley felt like throwing up as he saw a fleck of gray matter splatter to the dark ground.

But all he could do was turn around to see what had happened.

What the hell?

A creature with a bi-coloured head, split evenly in a yin-yang pattern, glared back at him. It didn’t really have fluff, but whatever material its head was made out of moved and swayed like tendrils.

He didn’t want to believe it.

But he saw the clock eye, he saw the slider eye.

This massive, godlike creature, was somehow Timekeeper.

It moved like a serpent with legs, graceful in a terrifying way. Six huge wings flapped open on its back, and it let out a screech with a terrifying fanged mouth.

What the fuck?! Get the fuck away!

Stanley’s mind screamed at him, and he scrambled to grab the pocket watch, fumbling with it and letting out one final cry to the man he knew was still alive.

*I’m sorry, Niall!*

Stanley found himself landing back in the office, gasping for breath as shock rang through his mind and tears ran down his face. He coughed feebly, laying on the ground weakly as he struggled to process everything. What the hell was that… yin-yang… thing? He heard rushing footsteps and a gentle hand tilted his chin up.

“Stanley! You’re covered in blood!” Corinne’s panicked, worried voice was vague in the static of his hearing. “What happened?” Mariella chimed in, working with Corinne to get him into a sitting position.

Before he could even take a breath to explain anything, Stanley coughed up puke onto the ground. He was breathless and it took a lot of effort.

*Niall.* Was all he could say. Explanations evaded him.

And he felt hundreds of apologies in his mind as he blacked out.

Chapter Text

Stanley eventually woke up, finding himself on the couch with a bleak feeling in his mind. Mariella and Corinne were nowhere to be found. When he tried to move and sit up, he kicked something, but he felt too groggy to check what it was.

When he finally got the motivation to open his eyes, Stanley found the bucket sitting at his feet. He pulled it into his arms. It had no effect on him, but the sentiment was nice, and he knew that Niall would enjoy it.

But it just made him worse to think of Niall. Stanley put the bucket away and got up, starting to stumble and pace around the room. He didn’t want to face anybody else right now. Everything had gone completely wrong for him.

There was nothing left for him to look forward to.

Every few moments, the vision of Niall’s mangled body flashed in his mind. It was painful for him to think about how much agony the poor man must be in, at the hands of that creature. He wished he could’ve saved him. He wished that he could go back in time to prevent that argument, to prevent all of this from happening.

Maybe he could even go further and undo the whole organ thing. That was the painful root of all of this. He was looking back on all the mistakes he’d made and wallowing in guilt, his legs and stomach starting to hurt from his aggressive pacing.

Stanley went back to the couch and flopped down on it, burying his face in one of the pillows to maybe make himself feel better. It didn’t really help, but just hiding away from the world was the only thing he wanted to do. It was the only thing there was left to do.

Stanley had let go of all hope.

His heart felt empty, like it had been split in half when he found Niall and the second portion had been violently stolen from him, ripped straight out of his ribcage. Everything was painful as he tucked his knees up to his chest to comfort himself, hugging and cradling his own body.

Things were even less enjoyable than they’d been before. Stanley had really thought that taking control would make him feel better.

Well, now he was seeing the truth. The painful, painful truth.

There really was no way out of this hell.

Maybe Niall had gotten the easy way out, if he was dead by now. Hopefully he was; Stanley didn’t want him to suffer any longer. But he did want to follow in his footsteps, to just die and get it over with before anything worse happened. And seeing how it was already going, something worse would happen. So there was a better option than just waiting for himself to rot away.

But for now, Stanley’s lack of motivation was pinning him in place. He stayed curled up on the couch, his eyes moistening with tears. Everything was cold and painful and nothing would ever be good any more. The man he cared for most in the world was gone, hidden somewhere in the void and practically torn to pieces. Stanley wanted nothing more than to join him, to face the same suffering and die by his side, holding his hand.

He didn’t even acknowledge the door opening.

Nor did he say anything to Mariella, who was walking in with a small plate of food, deciding not to bother him and instead leaving again, which was the better choice and she knew it.

Stanley just stayed, laying where he was.

After several more minutes, he sat up, picking up the plate and grabbing one small bit of food, trying to take a bite.

He immediately felt nauseous.

Stress was making him feel like throwing up.

And anything that made him feel like throwing up reminded him of Niall.

Stanley weakly stumbled over to the corner, drool dribbling down his chin as he weakly coughed, feeling his stomach churn. Tears filled his hazel eyes as he coughed harder, his nausea making the world spin around him.

The only thing he thought about as he hacked what small contents there were in his stomach up onto the floor. He kept kneeling there, breathing heavily before spitting up more of the sickly-tasting substance.

After another moment, Stanley got up and stumbled out of the room, knowing he’d have to walk all the long way to the Broom Closet so he could get supplies to clean it up. But that was fine. He was used to walking everywhere. And plus, he needed to stay occupied somehow. He passed Corinne in the hallways. He didn’t give her a second glance, not even when she called out to him.

“Dearie…” Corinne started, but within moments Stanley was striding far ahead, determined to get back up to the office. It was familiar. It hurt, he knew, but it was a familiar place and he wanted to be there. To be near where his beloved was again. 

Stanley went the long way up the stairs, bleakly hoping that the railing wasn’t there so he could fling himself down the center and be done with it. Someone would find him eventually. But for now, he just had to clean up the mess.

At the top, Stanley reopened the door to 428, striding through the office once again. He couldn’t resist a peek through the wallpaper into the void. He knew Niall was out there, being tormented by that thing that was meant to be Timekeeper, but just… wasn’t.

Stanley was worried about the game falling apart.

But right now, he forced himself to be more worried about the mess he’d made.

Down the left door he went, down the hallway, past the meeting room, into the second hallway to the boarded-up door. This place used to be one of great comfort to him. He started to pry away the boards, ignoring the splinters in his hands.

Anything that took his mind off of Niall.

Stanley quickly collected the supplies he needed. He could practically hear the Narrator’s voice in his head, both lines that were confused and lines narrating his actions.

And now Stanley’s looking around for paper towels.

What in the world is he doing?

Oh, how he missed all that.

And he knew it.

With arms full of cleaning supplies, Stanley started to go back through the office, forcing all the doors open that could limit where he was going. He went back down the stairs, his morbid mind hoping that he’d trip and die at the bottom.

But no. Tripping wasn’t possible on any stairs in the Parable.

No way for him to join Niall.

He passed Corinne again, not even looking at her and the face of confusion he knew she had. He was beelining back to his room, setting his supplies on the floor and properly cleaning up the mess, starting to wander around the museum once again to find a trash can or something.

And that was his day.

Stanley walked back to his room, flopping down onto the couch and closing his eyes to sleep. He was already drifting off, the world going dark and floating away from him.

The door opened somewhere in the background.

*I want to be left alone.* He insisted, curling up tighter around himself and nuzzling his face into his knees.

“You never told me what happened.” Was the quiet voice in response.

Oh.

Oh, no.

He was going to have to tell Corinne what happened.

*I don’t want to talk about it.* He insisted, flipping over onto his other side. *Let me sleep. Please. It’ll be better for both of us.*

“This isn’t like you, Stanley.” Corinne sat down on the edge of the couch, making sure she didn’t sit on his legs by accident. “You usually tell us all about everything that happens. Something must have absolutely destroyed you for you to be like this. What happened? And where’s Niall? You were asleep for days. The questions have been eating away at me this whole time.”

Stanley kept his eyes closed as he tried to think of the best way to tell her that her brother was currently suffering in the endless void, being constantly hunted by that thing. *Let me sleep.* He repeated.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me.” Corinne’s voice was naturally comforting, and she placed a gentle hand on his leg.

Stanley sighed. *It’s about Niall. About what happened to him. Where he went. When he walked off into the void, I can only assume… he was attacked. Right now, he can’t move, and I can’t save him because that creature that attacked him is still roaming around.” He refrained from going into the details of what Niall looked like at the moment.

Corinne fell silent. The room was completely quiet for several heartbeats as she processed the information. After another while, Corinne sighed and got up, her voice wavering with worry as she spoke. “Alright, well, thank you for telling me. Have a good rest.”

And with that, Corinne left and closed the door behind herself.

Now that Stanley was awake, he himself couldn’t rest. He waited for the sound of footsteps to fade away, then got up off the couch, starting to find his way towards the stairs back up to the office. If he couldn’t sleep for now, he could do anything else that was right.

Chapter Text

Niall gasped for air, again and again and again.

How long had it been?

He couldn’t move at all, and that was one of the only things he was vaguely aware of. He was in pain. A lot of pain. He didn’t want to move and he couldn’t.

For the past few days, all he could do was lay, alone, in the void. Oftentimes he hallucinated that he was back in that broken concrete room, being forced to watch Stanley leave over and over again.

And when Stanley had come to find him, he had just left again. But it was understandable.

After all, that thing was terrifying.

Niall occasionally coughed up organ scraps; at least, his body tried to. Right now, yellow blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he resisted the urge to cough, knowing that it would put him through immense pain. But holding in the cough was equally as painful.

In the end, Niall let himself choke the small bits of blood and organ up out of his throat, his entire body shaking with immense pain. His eyes darted around. He hoped the thing wasn’t nearby. He hated what it did. It just acted all ridiculous.

Niall remembered encountering it. Being in the void for too long had taken a toll on him, and he’d had a panic attack. Making noise was the incriminating part. His crying had attracted the creature, which hadn’t taken a liking to him at all.

So it had ripped off his leg.

And slashed open his stomach.

And thrown him around like a ragdoll.

And slashed him open again before leaving him to die.

But he wasn’t dead. Not even with a massive hole through his head. He was alive, painfully and terrifyingly alive. He could feel whatever remained of his heartbeat in his cuts and in his brain. He didn’t want to be alive anymore. He pleaded silently for something to please let him die.

Suddenly, there were footsteps walking towards him.

Please, whatever that is, kill me.

He hadn’t even realized he’d uttered that aloud.

*Kill you?* That bittersweetly familiar voice rang in his head. Stanley was kneeling beside him, taking Niall’s hand in his own. Even his touch was just that comforting. *Why would I kill you? I want to help, Niall. I think I can fix you up.*

“Yes, please.” Niall groaned. He wanted his pain gone immediately. Even the reparation process wouldn’t compare to what he had felt the entire time. He felt a gentle hand on his blood-soaked hair, a thumb rubbing his scalp gently and reassuringly. And he felt the bucket being carefully laid inside his arms.

Niall resisted the urge to curl around the bucket. He needed its comfort. The metal was already being touched by his red blood, and the metal felt nice against his cuts. It radiated comfort. Comfort that he really, really needed right now. He mumbled a thanks to Stanley before looking back up at him.

“I thought you wouldn’t come back.” He admitted in a raspy voice. Every small movement caused him pure agony. He felt gentle hands on his body, the burning sensation feeling better now that he knew who it was. The man he wanted to see most in the entire world was back. He only hoped both of them could stay safe.

*I’m so sorry all this had to happen to you.* Stanley murmured calmly, trying to assess the damage properly. His hands were already stained with blood, his sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. He wiped his hand off on his pant legs before pulling the pocket watch out.

*This might help.* He popped open the glass covering, viewing Niall’s character model and wincing at all the damage that was visible. *I’m sorry if it hurts.*

Niall couldn’t do anything but lay there as Stanley started to repair him. He could feel every moment of it, but from days of this, the pain was much more dull. His leg was being pieced back together, and he weakly reached out to touch Stanley as he worked.

*In a moment. I need to fix this.* Stanley whispered sweetly, finally fully repairing Niall’s leg, piecing it back together and cleaning up the seams using the pocket watch. The screens glowed a beautiful blue in the dark void, and Niall focused on it with his blurry vision, blinking slowly as the world spun around him.

He lay his head back down as he felt the gash on his stomach being cleaned up and put back together, closing his eyes to let Stanley take care of him. It was honestly nice, knowing that he was going to be fixed up again then go back home.

*You’ll be fine.* Stanley reassured him, laying the bucket down next to Niall. *I’m going to fix this. Then we’ll let you recover and things will go back to normal. We’re going to go home, Niall.* Home. Just the word sounded so sweet.

Niall sighed happily, trying to rest his head again.

A familiar swish rushed in the background.

Immediately Niall was alert, lifting his weak head up and trying to get Stanley’s attention. At least he could speak better now, with most of his body fixed back up. “You need to go. Now. That thing will kill you.” He said in a panic.

*I’m not leaving you.* Stanley insisted. He kept the pocket watch open, trying to click on the screens. Niall could hear the flapping of wings and a distant hiss, getting closer and closer with each moment. And with each small sound, his painful breathing quickened.

In a surprising instant, Niall gathered the strength to reach out and close the screen of the pocket watch. He could see the shock on Stanley’s face, as those hazel eyes turned to look into his. Niall had a serious expression, and his hand trailed down to rest on Stanley’s arm so his message could really go across.

“I’m serious.” He hissed quietly through his small fangs, feeling blood drip further down his forehead. “You need to leave. That’s not your friend. That’s not Timekeeper. It’ll be here soon, you need to leave as soon as possible.”

Stanley had a conflicted expression on his face. But he knew what was right, and what Niall could handle. He put away the pocket watch, and reached out to hold Niall’s face in his hands, brushing his hair behind his ear.

*I will come back for you as soon as possible.* He promised, leaning down to give him a gentle kiss on the lips. He completely ignored the taste of blood. He could ignore anything if it meant it was for Niall. He wished he would’ve realized it a lot sooner.

With that, Stanley got up while taking the bucket with him, walking away into the void and pulling out the pocket watch, becoming a blue spark that faded within moments as he got himself away from the imminent danger.

Yin-yang landed in the exact spot mere heartbeats later, a growl erupting from between its sharp fangs. It scratched at where Stanley had disappeared, as though looking for him, and its large wings flapped in obvious frustration.

Niall lay where he was, keeping his breaths quiet so he didn’t alert the creature. But it had seen him. He knew that it had seen him, he just knew. There was no way it hadn’t; he was completely vulnerable in the void at the moment. And it had flown directly overhead.

Sure enough, Yin-yang turned around, its fluffy tail lashing as it leaned down to sniff at Niall again. Those terrifying fangs were right next to him and he shuddered as he imagined them sinking into his already broken body.

Shuddering had been the worst action possible.

Yin-yang’s back arched and it let out an ear-splitting screech, its wings flapping and stirring the air, making Niall shiver in terror. The more he moved, the more agitated the creature got, but he couldn’t help it.

Niall felt fangs sinking deep into his body, and the creature flung him high up into the air. He held in another scream and hoped deep in his mind that all this would be over soon. He was caught in Yin-yang’s mouth again and thrown harshly to the ground.

Niall wanted to scream.

He needed to scream.

He screamed deep in his mind.

Pain flashed through his body, and he was vaguely aware of his leg being torn away. Again.

Niall could only watch as blood sprayed the endless void, black and white flashing alongside the red while Yin-yang tried to tear him apart. 

It screeched and flapped its wings, sending pain sparking through Niall’s body once again as it threw him as far up as it could.

Chapter Text

“Data?”

Time murmured weakly, their hand gently reaching out to feel around. They were vaguely aware of this capsule they were in bouncing and shaking, and occasionally a few roars were let out. Sometimes their minds were filled with the instinct to kill.

“I’m still here.” Data responded, and their hand gripped Time’s to reassure them. “I don’t think I can leave. If I could, I would’ve told you.”

It was warm in the capsule. Warm and reassuring, like a tight hug, though it had made them completely blind. It was terrifying at first. For a few days, Time and Data had tried to just get used to this, but they knew that something was wrong. Their consciousnesses hadn’t truly combined. This capsule was proof of that.

“I’m scared.” Time admitted. Every few hours they repeated that. It felt good to let out. They tried to wriggle closer to Data, but it was hard to move. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Data was also shaking, dealing with their own terror in a much different way; by reassuring Time.

It had been a difficult process getting here.

Time had come up with the initial idea. They thought that if they and Data somehow merged back into Timekeeper, then they could fix the situation somehow. But not knowing how they’d even split in the first place, it had taken a while to figure out.

And they thought they had, when they’d started to merge together.

But they had no idea what they were now.

Right now the capsule was being jostled around as its holder did whatever it was doing, bounding and leaping freely. It was difficult to describe how it felt for Time and Data, but they both had a suspicion that the other could feel the same thing.

When the creature flew, there was a phantom flapping of wings on their back. When it roared, their throats went dry, and when it sunk its fangs into that body… they could feel something, the size of a mouse, being speared on their teeth.

“I don’t like this.” Time said more impatiently, trying to squirm their way around. “I know! I just want to be Timekeeper again. I don’t like this existence.” Data agreed.

Time squeezed Data’s hand tighter, being careful that their talons didn’t cause any harm whatsoever. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it. There’s some sort of disaster going on in the outside world.”

Data paused, before murmuring a small question. “What do you remember?”
Time would’ve looked sidelong at Data if they could still see. “From our days as Timekeeper?”

Data let out a small hum affirming that Time was right. “I’ve always wondered if you remember more than I do… since your name was closer to theirs. And I don’t remember anything apart from the sliders.”

Time was silent for a while, thinking of their response. They squeezed Data’s hand tighter, still struggling to wriggle closer to them. “I remember trying to keep the game together. I remember parts of it. Trying to keep the loop working… to keep their memories together… and talking to Stanley, sometimes.”

Data paused for a moment, thinking hard. “I remember after the Skip Button Ending. With the titles and everything. I remember working with the code of the game… making sure everything was running smoothly. And trying to evade being noticed by the Narrator.”

There was a small laugh from Time, the first that either of them had laughed while trapped in the capsule. “That was fun.”

The two were quiet for several moments. The capsule kept jostling around, the phantom feeling of wings flapping returning for a moment as the creature took to the air briefly. It was obviously playing with something that it had captured.

“I remember talking with Stanley a lot.” Time said, trying to break the silence. “It was nice… having a reminder that we were still connected to the outside world. I liked asking him to set the time. Though you probably don’t remember that.”

There was further silence. Neither of them really knew what to say. Though they wanted to, since being thrown around and jostled like they were right now wasn’t exactly ideal. It made Time let out a low growl, before clearing their throat. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” Data answered quietly, still gripping their hand gently. “Do you remember anything from being 432? I remember a bit… how much our coworkers complained. And when we were fired. And… when he tried to erase us.”

“Not much.” Time admitted. “But I also remember when he tried to erase us. That was terrifying. It was so relieving when we managed to find the void.”

Data nodded vigorously, before stopping when they remembered that Time couldn’t see either. “It really was. I miss a lot of things from being Timekeeper… we were so much more competent back then. I don’t like being barely able to keep the Parable together.”

Continuing their struggling attempts to get closer to Data, Time kept talking. “I want to be Timekeeper again. How did we end up like this? Was it… was it a good idea to combine ourselves?”

Data shrugged.

Silence filled the capsule for several moments.

“Do you also want to separate again?”

Time stopped, pretending to consider. Though it wasn’t a hard decision.

“Yes.”

The idea was mutual. Both Time and Data knew that something bad was happening while they were merged in this strange way. Both wanted to escape, and escape fast. Time finally managed to get close enough, clinging to Data desperately. Data hugged them back, willing to provide comfort.

“We’re dooming them, aren’t we?” Data murmured, still clinging onto Time’s hand. They could finally feel their sibling nodding against them. “Something’s gone bad. I can just feel it. Stanley’s depression is radiating from miles away.”

Time felt guilty. Both of them felt guilty. “Do you think Timekeeper would be able to stop this?”

Data tensed up. They were aware that Time already knew the answer, but it still felt wrong to tell them. The two cared for each other. They never wanted to break each other’s hearts. “I think Timekeeper is causing this.” They finally murmured, gently squeezing Time’s shoulder.

Time was quiet for another moment.

“I know.”

For a few moments, the capsule was still. It jostled one last time, then the small mouse-like thing in the mouth of the creature outside was dropped to the ground, and the wings started up again, starting to carry it away.

“I wish we were there to stop this.” Data said aloud, even though both of them knew that wishing would lead to nothing being solved at all. They hugged Time tighter, the two seeking comfort from each other now that none of their friends were there to comfort them as well.

“Same.” Time affirmed.

The air was left in somber silence for a moment.

“You also saw Timekeeper as some sort of parental figure, didn’t you?” Time asked quietly. It was a weird situation. They were Timekeeper’s component parts, and they’d never met him, yet Timekeeper seemed like a parent, almost.

“Yes.” Data responded.

Both of them were avoiding the main question.

Time held Data’s hand tighter.

There was another jostle as the creature landed, and the capsule tightened around them even more as it curled up to sleep. 

Data hugged Time even tighter.

Neither wanted to admit the truth that was looming over them, even though they knew they would have to at one point. Time didn’t loosen their grip on their sibling for even one moment.

“You can also tell that Niall is dead, can’t you?” They finally let out the question.

Data’s breath hitched in their throat for a moment before they exhaled it out.

“Yes.”

Chapter Text

Stanley had been staying in the museum for a while after all of that had happened. It wasn’t like he could do anything else, anyways. He missed Niall so badly it hurt, but he had no idea how to save him, which made him feel completely helpless to everything that was happening. He was just as much a victim of the narrative now as he had always been, an idea that felt strangely familiar and soothing. He never felt like moving or getting up at all, and nothing that had made him happy ever made him feel that way any more. He was falling into a deep depression, and he knew it. But he just couldn’t fight it.

Sometimes Corinne or Mariella passed by, giving him pitying glances or bringing him something, be it food or trinkets they found. He never really paid attention to any of them. All he could do was lay there helplessly and wait until he knew what to do. All of his ideas so far had seemed like they wouldn’t work. Or maybe that was the depressive thoughts talking. He didn’t know any more.

Sometimes he tried to entertain himself, to get away from his own thoughts, but everything that he did just reminded him of Niall. He constantly felt nauseous for seemingly no reason, and every time the lights went out, he couldn’t help but cry. He wished he could’ve stopped that argument from happening, then maybe Niall would be here and none of this would be happening right now. Or maybe Yin-yang would’ve come to the office to attack him. Nothing was really clear any more.

And everything was overshadowed by the overwhelming urge to visit the body again, that makeshift grave deep in the void. But Yin-yang would just try to attack him as well unless he was quick. He never knew what the creature was doing, but he hoped that it would just fly off and leave them alone. He wished they could have everything back to normal. As normal as it could be, at least, what with this swap and the weird organ thing happening in Niall’s body. There was no way to go back to the Parable they’d had before any of this.

For a while Stanley’s thoughts had been swimming in this loop. From missing Niall to wanting to visit him to wishing things could’ve been different to trying and failing to make a plan. Then it would just start all over again. His own mental health had been spiralling to become worse and worse, but he kept those thoughts at bay the best he could. That was the only thing he really could do. If hopeless wishing kept him from sacrificing himself to Yin-yang, so be it.

It was funny, really. He was completely unmotivated, but if he did get any motivation, then he’d probably use it to finally kill himself. To join Niall, wherever he was. Maybe if he kept these thoughts at bay enough, he’d go backwards and gain the motivation to actually go for it and attempt to save Niall. It wasn’t likely. But as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he clung to it, and started to hope. Hope that he could actually come up with something good enough and then go through with it.

Right now the closest thing he had to a “plan” was just to attempt to revive Niall while Yin-Yang was far away enough then make a run for it. But that was stupid and he knew it. What would they even do next? They had no idea how to defeat Yin-yang properly, and maybe the thing could destroy the game. All of his ideas were stupid.

That self-deprecating thought process kept weighing him down. At this rate, he’d never save Niall at all. He couldn’t bring himself to even try. At least if he died, they’d die together. But what would happen to the game? The Parable? And what would Corinne and Mariella think? Everything held him back. 

Stanley took the pocket watch out by its chain, staring at it. It was pretty, but it still held difficult memories. It was his only hope, the only way he could bring Niall back to life. He was already dry of tears for the day, but if he had any more, they’d be streaming down his face.

He put the pocket watch away and rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Sometimes nothing felt real and everything felt dull. But every time he moved, every time he did anything, he could practically hear the Narrator’s voice. Not Niall’s. The Narrator’s. That voice that he missed so much, describing his every move and every choice that he made. The one thing he missed the most in the world.

He sat up and grabbed the script from where he’d left it on the couch just next to him. It had been there for a few days now, but it was just as fresh as always. Stanley murmured to himself as he scanned over it, trying to remember what it was like. He’d scribbled out all instances of his name and replaced it with ‘Niall’, but his name was still there. Because this had always been his Parable. He’d always be the protagonist.

His breath caught in his throat as he read the script, and he was so drawn into it that the entire rest of the world seemed to fade away around him. He could hear the Narrator’s voice in his head, over his own. Every word was wavering as he tried not to sob out loud. He couldn’t think of anything else, and he couldn’t be aware of the world around him.

“Stanley?” The sudden sound of someone else’s voice snapped him out of his trance, and he looked up. Mariella was standing there, hesitantly approaching him. “Are you alright? You were… rambling a bit.”

Stanley almost went to respond, but shut himself up again. He set the script down and moved aside to leave room for Mariella to sit down as well. *Sorry…* He mumbled, wrapping his arms around himself tightly. He didn’t want to speak much any more. His voice was too shaky, and not speaking to anyone else meant he could just imagine everything was back to the way it had been before.

“Listen, you can’t just stay like this forever.” Mariella had said that dozens of times over already, and she was starting to give up. Sure enough, when Stanley didn’t respond, she just didn’t speak, and sat down next to him. She felt just as helpless as he did. Everyone was helpless in this situation. 

After another moment, Stanley tucked his knees up to his chest, rocking back and forth slightly. Mariella stayed patient with him. “If you need to speak about anything, I’m right here. Hell, we don’t need a conversation. You can talk and I’ll listen. Just please… let out what you’ve been thinking.”

There was a minute of silence. Stanley was non-verbal at this point. His breath felt stuck in his throat, and he didn’t even look at her as he hugged his knees tighter. He felt awful, since she was being so patient and letting him talk, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe he’d speak when he was able to, but right now, he was completely lost.

“I get it.” Mariella said softly. “I’m not demanding you tell me. If you’re ever ready, I’m right here, but if you’re not, I won’t be overbearing.”

Just those words made Stanley feel even worse. Why was she so kind to him while he was acting so distant and anti-social? In what world did he deserve this after everything he’d done? And everything he’d been through? Why would things be easy now?

His tear ducts weren’t so dry any more, and they were already starting to leak salty tears down his face. He tried desperately to wipe his eyes, but they just kept coming. He hadn’t even turned his head in Mariella’s direction for the past few minutes. He didn’t want her to see him so undone. It hurt badly, but he didn’t feel like he deserved her kindness. 

“I can leave you alone for now.” She offered, and when Stanley didn’t respond, she just gently rubbed his back for a moment before getting up to leave. Stanley trembled as he stayed where he was for a moment, before laying back down, feeling defeated.

Falling back into and indulging in his imagination helped. Somewhat. It also made him miss Niall even more, but it felt nice to imagine Niall by his side, right there to tell him that everything would be alright. Niall had always been so depressed, but he was determined to push forward, to make everything okay. He’d had the motivation that Stanley wished he had for himself right now. He knew exactly what he’d do with that motivation.

Stanley started to pick at his nails, silently fidgeting to at least fill the boredom. Well, not exactly boredom. The outside world was dull, but inside, his thoughts were full of anxiety and paranoia and everything negative. A cascade of thoughts that would most likely just lead to his own suicide.

Maybe he could leave the pocket watch with Corinne and Mariella, where it would be safe, and they could have a happy life without all the pain and suffering that the story brought. Stanley and Niall being gone was just a side effect. Without them, everything could be okay. Life in the office could be peaceful without their meddling and chaos and arguments and everything that they did wrong. The thought was so, so tempting.

Maybe he was just thinking this because he wanted to see his own suicide in a positive light, sure. But was that really wrong? If he could be happy about it, maybe it would be alright. He didn’t need to hesitate any more, to lack the motivation. If he gathered enough courage and energy, he could finally wander out into the void and let Yin-yang take him.

Now it was back to this. His mind fluttered from thought to thought, but when he found one he liked, he clung onto it for as long as possible. He didn’t want to let this go, just like he never wanted to let Niall go yet he had anyways. All their conflicts had led to this and Stanley wished he could go back and apologize for everything he had done.

Pausing for a moment in case Mariella or Corinne were approaching, Stanley was relieved when he heard nothing. This was the most determined he’d been in a while, and it was for a terrible reason. He knew it. He chuckled pathetically, and settled back down, wanting to lay here for a while. It would probably be the last time he ever got to rest. He’d slept a lot to pass the time, and now he settled down again, hoping that he’d possibly see Niall in his dreams. It would be a nice thought to leave himself on. There was no way he’d ever talk to Niall again anyways. He was such a pessimist that he was going backwards.

Stanley stiffened as he realized that he was already forgetting Niall’s voice. That voice, that had followed him for so long as the Narrator and had continued as Niall, he was forgetting it now. He sat up, all the fog in his perception being cleared in one moment. He couldn’t just kill himself. That had never solved his problems. It had never solved Niall’s. It had never solved anything. He glanced around, but the museum was still silent. Now that he didn’t have that option, he didn’t have anything to do.

One last time, Stanley settled in the cushions, letting out a defeated sigh.