Work Text:
Stanley sat there, motionless and staring at the wall. The Narrator hummed and organized his papers as he waited for time to continue.
15 minutes. He waited 15 minutes and Stanley blinked back to life.
The dialogue proceeded and much and the story went on.
A few years went by, or a few decades. Stanley really doesn’t know. The Narrator has been gone and he saw the greenery disappear and all he saw was yellow.
Was he gone for that long? It could’ve been a century, standing there for 100 years. Could it be?
He walked out and stared into the endless amount of land, nothing in his sight. No civilization, nothing. Just the box he was in and vague memories of the Narrator going insane.
”the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never-“
Now he knows what true loneliness is. He shouldn’t have clicked that button. He forgot how the Narrator’s voice clicked him out of those moments where he stared into space.
He forgot how quiet it is when there’s nobody but him.
The wind howled and his heart ached. It’s all his fault. All of it is his fault. If he just- didn’t click the button as the Narrator asked he’d still be here.
Stanley for the first time pressed the Restart button so quickly the player couldn’t see it. Reset the world. Please. Bring him back.
It was still so eerily quiet in the office but he preferred that to the deserted civilization.
A phone? Ring ring, it sounded. He picked up the phone and his mood soured. When had he gone to the grocery store? Years? Decades?
He forgot.
The new content door was open with an even bigger sign. He went in and wondered if the Narrator was back-
“Ah, you noticed my sign-“
Stanley froze. Is it really him?
Is it really the Narrator?
”Stanley don’t cry, I’m still here.”
Yet Stanley didn’t listen. He never did.