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"Is it over? It's going to restart now, isn't it?"
Stanley's vision came back to normal as he was once again thrown in his office. He felt dizzy — as he always does whenever the game resets. He knows he was supposed to be used to it, because of how long he was in the Parable for, but he still isn't.
Stanley sighs and rests his head on his office table. He truly doesn't feel like getting up and doing another ending right now, considering he just came back from a Zending run, so his body was still sore - he also knows it shouldn't be, because according to the Narrator, the resets restart everything to their starting point, but he can't really help it. It was probably his mind playing tricks on him or whatever.
Speaking of which... Narrator was silent. No voice coming from nowhere and yet everywhere at the same time. Stanley sighs once again, looking up at the ceiling. Probably, he was just balling his eyes out because of the recent run, like he does a few times after Stanley does the Zending. Though sometimes, he just continues to recite his script with a completely monotone voice. Stanley has to admit, he gets scared when these happen, it's always so weird to not hear any emotion in Narrator's voice while he recites his so-called perfect script that it absolutely freaks him out.
"Seriously? Again?" He hears his only friend in this place speak. Narrator's voice sounds kinda... off? A bit raspier than normal. Stanley recognizes every little change to Narrator's voice now. Narrator clears his throat.
"You really think so?" He asks. Right. Stanley needs to remember that Narrator can hear his thoughts. "Well, i-"
[I know, you don't have to tell me] Stanley signs to the cameras around the office, which always seem like they're off, but thanks to a random off-script occasion, he knows they aren't. It's actually very predictable, but we're talking about the Narrator here - he's pretty spontaneous. He could be watching Stanley from the walls if he wanted to.
"I wouldn't do that." Narrator interrupts his thoughts, with a slightly offended tone. Stanley smiles to himself. It's easy to annoy the Narrator, and he absolutely loves doing it. Years of hearing the same boring - "Hmph!" - script every single minute of his life makes life just as boring, so he enjoys each chance he has to just not follow it.
"Ahem. Could you kindly stop thinking about my wonderful script and instead start to follow it" Narrator's voice is low, with an annoyed tone to it. Stanley gets up from the chair and stretches. He walks down the empty halls.
"All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean? Stanley decides to go to the meeting room, perhaps he had simply missed a memo." Narrator delivers perfectly, except for a muffled cough to which Stanley reacts with a frown and wonders if he was alright. Maybe he should stop doing the Zending for a while.
"That'd be lovely, you know. But enough thinking about it, Stanley." Narrator says with a bored tone as Stanley reaches the two doors hall. He considers his choices. The Freedom Ending sounded nice, but he already did it many times, though it's the best ending amongst all the others.
"When Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left." Stanley obliges, entering the left door, and reaching the meeting room.
"Yet, there was not a single person here either. Feeling a wave of disbelief, Stanley decided to go up to his boss's office, hoping he might find an answer there." Narrator practically rushes through his dialogue, which makes Stanley more worried. Okay, he knew how Narrator reacted to him doing the Zending, but still. Stanley stops digging too deep into it when Narrator clears his throat and just continues walking towards his destiny.
When he reaches the broom closet, he hears Narrator sigh, and smirks at the (totally) hidden camera.
"Okay, you do your BS in there. I'm leaving. Once you're ready to continue with the story, I'll be back." Narrator says in a quite disappointed tone, as Stanley can hear papers shuffling around and someone walking away. Stanley stays in the broom closet for quite some time until he starts to get bored and decides to leave. Once again, he can hear sounds now coming closer. Stanley was just about to tease Narrator once again.
Until he hears a 'thud'.
Two, actually.
The first one accompanied by sounds of paper, once again, and liquid shuffling. It is loud, close. The second one happens not long after, but it sounds more...distant?
Stanley looks at the camera at the broom closet. He waves at it. [Narrator?] He signs. What happened? Narrator was fine not long ago. Well, alright, not completely fine, but still. He was at least talking. He walks towards the camera. Narrator was not responding and honestly, Stanley is pretty worried.
So, Stanley decides to leave the broom closet and head upstairs to the boss' office. Surely, that would trigger Narrator's dialogue, right? He walks out of the Broom Closet and onto the hall leading to the staircase, and yet, there was no dialogue whatsoever.
It was weird not to hear Narrator's dialogue. Not to hear his voice, over all. Stanley walked upstairs, but the door leading to the hall of the boss’ office was closed, so he couldn't progress, no matter what he tried, and oh if he tried. He wasn't strong enough to break the door.
Stanley looked around. Towards the cameras. He had to find a way to get to Narrator, but he didn't know where he was. Narrator's always watching him from the cameras, so what if…?
Stanley went back to the Broom Closet, and took the stair there, then he walked back to the staircase, and put the stair right next to the door. There's a camera right on the corner, and it's easy for him to access with the stair, so he climbed it, and touched the camera, only to feel himself getting pulled into it—
And it was such a weird sensation.
He fell face first — Where? He had no idea — on the floor. Lifting his head, he was granted with the sight of a desk, full of paperwork, an earpiece with a microphone attached to it, which was probably what Narrator used to talk to him, of course. There were lots of buttons, each having a specific drawing above them, mostly of doors, but there was one that had a writing of “reset” instead of a drawing. Stanley always thought Narrator's reset was just one of his powers, that he could do it whenever he wanted, but it was actually a button? Damn, no security. There were also lots of monitors above the desk, each one showing each part of the building from different angles. There were truly hundreds or even thousands. Stanley also noticed a fallen mug. He heard sounds of liquids, so it was probably the coffee on it, which was now all over the floor.
The floor…
He also saw someone on the floor.
A person with short, slicked off brown, graying hair, with yellow highlights, the exact same color of the Adventure Line™. Speaking of which, there was a tiny version of It™ on the person's hair, pointing at a random point. Their face was peaceful,as if they were sleeping, although there was a lot of sweat and also some yellow blood coming from their head. Was this what Stanley heard through the microphone? The person had a slim vest above a white, long sleeve shirt, with a black tie. Skinny pants, and monk shoes, and gloves at their hands.
And of course this person could be no one other than The Narrator.
‘Overall fancy. I wouldn't expect any less from a person with such a big ego as him.’ Stanley thought, grinning slightly at the thought, but immediately stopping once he remembers the situation they're both in. The worst part is that there's absolutely nothing useful here.
Stanley shakes The Narrator, hoping to wake him up. He tears a part of his own shirt and puts it on the small cut on Narrator's head that he probably acquired while falling. Then it came to Stanley. Narrator fainted. But how? He wasn't supposed to be able to feel things like tiredness and…
Sickness?
Thinking of it, Narrator really did look sick…sweating, pale, and breathing heavy, even though he's unconscious.
Stanley kept shaking Narrator, until he eventually woke up. His eyes had a yellow color too, but now's not the time to think about it. Narrator sits up on the floor, and looks at Stanley.
“Oh good heaven- I guess you did find me, Stanley. How clever of you.” Narrator teases. Even while sick, he still had the same smug attitude. Stanley hears Narrator scoff. Right, he can hear his thoughts.
“‘Sick’? Stanley, I'm not sick, I'm perfectly fine! There's no way for me to even get sick!” Narrator argues, standing up fast. Maybe a bit too fast for him, because Stanley can see him lose his balance once again, and start to fall once more. He rushes to get up and hold Narrator, who's breathing heavily.
Stanley holds him upright while they walk back to… “That door, right there…” Right. To that door on the wall. They walk through the door, which lead them all the way back to Stanley's office. Stanley is not completely sure if Narrator can make it to the Employee Lounge.
“I'll be fine, let's just go..” Narrator chimes in once again, but he did not look fine at all. In fact, he looks like he's about to pass out again if he doesn't find somewhere to sit in the next 5 seconds.
Stanley walks through the right door, and it was still so strange not to hear the script. Yes, the words are already stuck on his mind, and yes, The Narrator was just by his side, but still. It was weird.
“Oh, I know you like my script, Stanley, but I guess that's a rare occasion right here, so I'll give you a break. Although I would love to…” He stops himself, breath hitching, head falling. Stanley doesn't take this as a good sign.
They reach the Employee Lounge together, and Stanley immediately puts Narrator on a couch. He looks around the room. Nothing useful. Still nothing useful. He sighs, and looks at Narrator.
[Are you able to hold on for some more?] Stanley signs, frowning. He wanted to take Narrator to the Apartment Ending, but he's not sure if Narrator would be able to handle going so far.
“Of course I…” Narrator sighs, “I'm…not really sure. My legs feel very weak, I don't think I can really walk, and…I'm feeling something weird on the back of my throat…” He admits, blushing in a weird yellow color.
Stanley sighs too and walks towards him. [I don't think I can carry you?] He signs. He truly doesn't trust his own strength. It's been a long time since he ever carried something aside from the bucket.
“Oh, you can, i..i can just adjust my own weight so that I won't be too heavy for you.” Narrator looks at him, weakly snapping his fingers. Stanley is quick to act, holding Narrator in a bride style and rushing through the doors to the cargo lift. Narrator whimpers at the speed, but Stanley doesn't mind. The faster they get there, the better.
By the time they reach the cargo lift, Narrator is practically dead already. He was holding himself up God knows how. He's not even talking anymore, just dead silent, dreading that he may faint at any little thing.
“Honestly, Stanley, I have never felt something like this before. Is this normal? For humans?” He forces himself to ask. Stanley isn't very sure himself, because it's been quite a long time since he even got sick, but he nods.
He always thought the lift was slow, and damn it was. It felt like two whole minutes just to get across the warehouse, but when they do, Stanley speedwalks to the phone room.
But Narrator can't find the strength to continue walking along. He suddenly feels very weak. He tries to take a step forward, but his legs give in, and he falls to his knees. His vision is swimming, black spots on the corners of it. At first, he felt panicked, like something really bad was happening to him.
As Stanley picked up the phone, the white flash made him feel calm. The next second, everything he felt was a cold surface against his face, and a rising feeling of calmness as his vision darkens once again.
——————————————————————————————
Irritated, Narrator opens his eyes again. He was having a good, comfortable, dreamless sleep, but his mind suddenly started to get flooded by a voice calling him, so he awoke. Soon, he notices that Stanley was standing by his side, repeating “Narrator” in his mind over and over again.
“What is it, Stanley? My God, you're insufferable-” Narrator squints, and then he looks around the room, noticing that he's not in his office anymore. He sits up on the..bed? Yes, he was laying on a bed, in an apartment that honestly looked pretty nice.
[Hey, welcome to the land of living.] Stanley gives him a smile - which makes him look pretty - and stands up. He places a hand on Narrator’s forehead, and frowns slightly. [You should stay down. I don't know if this is normal for you, but you're sick. Is it a virus? You're not exactly human, right?]
“I have no idea, Stanley. Perhaps it's a virus, or maybe a bug.” Narrator doesn't sound very sure of himself, which is a first. Stanley stares at him for a moment, before looking around. The apartment is quite empty, so he can't find anything that would really help.
[Okay, so, are you alright?] Stanley places a hand on Narrator’s forehead, who flinches slightly at the touch. His forehead is hot, curiously. Stanley didn't know Narrator could get sick, but he is right now, in his human form, at least. [You're damn hot.]
Stanley wipes the sweat off Narrator's forehead, who smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, I know, thanks.” He jokes. Stanley just rolls his eyes and walks to the kitchen.
Narrator stares at Stanley while he cuts some bread. He didn't know he could eat. Did he program that? Could he feel it? Taste it? Would it change anything on his body at all? He didn't know.
Speaking about feeling, Narrator can feel something strange on the back of his throat, just like before, but it's stronger now. It's like there's a burning on his chest. Like something is coming up?
He's never felt like this before, it's definitely something new. He's seen Stanley feel like this though, and it almost always ended up with him throwing up.
Oh God.
Narrator gets up from the bed, placing a hand on his own chest. He makes a beeline to the bathroom and kneels down in front of the toilet. He's scared by this. Is it something normal?
Stanley comes right behind him. ‘What's wrong, Narrator?’ He places a hand on Narrator’s back, as the older one starts to gag and retch into the toilet bowl. In no way it's pleasing to hear, let alone see, but Stanley isn't about to leave him alone because he's grossed out.
Narrator has barely any time to breathe before he starts to gag and throw up again, and it repeats for a long time, until he can only dry heave.
‘Are you fine?’ Stanley stares at the back of Narrator’s head, starting to caress his hair, trying to provide some sort of comfort. From what he remembers of his life before this Parable, it was a nice feeling, for someone to caress your hair.
“I don't know, Stanley,” Narrator takes a few deep breaths, trying to gather himself. It's a weird feeling to throw up for sure, but he feels better now. He doesn't have the burning feeling on his chest anymore. “Most certainly. But I don't quite trust myself just yet.”
Stanley helps him stand up and takes him to the bedroom again. He makes him lie down on the bed once again. He takes a blanket and covers him with it.
‘Get better soon, and maybe we can go back to your awful story.’ Stanley teases, with a small smirk on his silly face. He walks back to the bathroom, flushing the toilet and turning off the lights.
“My story isn't awful, you dork. I took a long time to write it! Just you wait until I'm better…” Narrator yawns. Incredibly, he's used to feeling sleepy. It's one of the only things he can feel in his human form, and sometimes he even sleeps in his script breaks. It's not just Stanley who needs a break.
Stanley walks back to the bedroom and lays down with Narrator, who turns around and hugs the younger one tightly. Stanley smiles and rests his head on Narrator’s chest.
‘Okay, maybe your story isn't so awful.’ Stanley looks up at Narrator’s face.
“Of course it isn't! Do I need to enlighten you with the best parts of it?” Narrator doesn't sound offended anymore. He feels quite comfortable here, laying with Stanley on the bed. Just the two of them.
‘I love you.’
…
Narrator simply leans in and kisses Stanley. They've been through a whole lot together already, and honestly, both of them wanted to spend even more time together.
“I love you too, you dork. Now, back to the sleeping land.” Narrator closes his eyes and relaxes, covering Stanley with the same blanket he's in.
Stanley closes his eyes too, enjoying the warmth that comes from Narrator’s body. His human form is very nice. If it means that they can cuddle and sleep together every night, he would want Narrator to be sick every day.
“Do you want to hear my thoughts on that?”
‘Just sleep already.’
…
‘If it's contagious, you're dead on my hands.’