Stanley parable one shots [requests]

Back to reality P.3 (Angst/ Fluff + good ending )

Short summary : (this is part 3 of Back to reality ) The Narrator admits that he doesn't need Stanley around anymore and abandons him, forcing him back into the real world.
Stanley wakes up to his miserable life and longs for the Narrator and parable again.
This time, his longing was worth it.

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( You asked and you shall receive.
I thought you all would enjoy a happy ending after all the pain I've put you through. So here it is. There is a bit of angst at the beginning but it just gets better.

Hope you enjoy. )

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Stanley found that those nights of silence after all the noise were the loneliest of all.

Those grey skies eventually brung snow along with them, burying the streets in a thick layer of white, and blurring all its sharp features.
Mornings turned into treacherous efforts to pull his own limbs from the blankets and drag them across the floor until he was out in the open air, becoming fully vulnerable to the bitting of ice and everlasting cold.

How many days had it been?
How many nights had passed?
Wishing, praying, hoping, for that one same dream, or any dream, that would take him out of the reality of his life again ; let him forget the present moment. The thought of tomorrow loomed over him, the knowledge of it approaching him haunted him as if it were his shadow. He was bound to it, tied to it, in a death knot where none of them could escape.
He was in a loop of normality and routine, which instead acted like a white room.

He may as well have been a robot.
Every action and every word was automated by now, and there was nothing else to him.
The Parable would corrupt his mind by day and disturb his thoughts at night. There was nothing he could do to push it to the side when it was all he could see, and all he could think. It was preventing him from becoming completely mindless and lost to insanity, yet it drove him insane.

He couldn't handle them, he didn't want to. He didn't want to keep wishing for something so hopeless, something that would only bring him misery and torment. He found himself choking on his own sharp breaths in the cover of his bedroom at night, twisting and turning, only for those thoughts to intrude again- a parasite.
Something that no medicine could get rid of.

Never did he have any of those dreams.
Those wishes were hopeless.
Those feelings were useless.

His thoughts had started to morph without his permission.
'Maybe the Narrator wasn't a bad person',  they'd say, 'maybe he was just not feeling like himself for that bit, maybe he does miss you.
He'll forgive you, if you tell him you'll be better. If you behave this time, if you stop acting so egotistical, if you actually talk to him, maybe he'll understand.'

The worst part was, Stanley would do that.
He would change himself, he would do whatever the Narrator wanted, just to go back. Afterall, he was useless here anyways - what would one less office worker matter?
Anyone could replace him. In fact, they'd probably be better off that way.

He was a miserable human being.

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"Stanley."

A yellow button had appeared on his desk when he woke up from a nap in his office.
Like it stated at the front, it did in fact say his name.
Fuck, he was going insane.
If he wasn't, why would the button sound exactly like the Narrator's voice?
Why would he be able to imagine himself back in the parable, right then, right there?

Hold on.

Wait.

Stanley suddenly awoke, lifting himself from his chair.
Who turned the noise off? There was nothing but silence outside his door : no shuffling of papers, or people chatting, or phones ringing.
Absolute, utter silence.

"Stanley."

The voice was robotic, as if it had been recorded from an old radio, yet, there was still a hint of the Narrator's voice in it somewhere.
Stanley couldn't care less if he were crazy in that moment. What mattered was the fact that he was back. He was back!
He'd never been happier awaiting the view outside his office door. Grabbing the button, he raced out, eyes wide and ecstatic, finding himself in the empty office room, at the start of The Parable.

Here he was - stood right where he'd fantasised about every night, doused in that comforting quiet.
Someone cleared their throat.
"Uh- yes, hello Stanley. Welcome back."
Stanley froze.

What was he meant to feel?
He had longed for this company since he was rid of it. This man had been the one to cut him off from it without a reason. He'd been the one Stanley had cursed and shunned, the one he'd begged and yearned for.
And all he could think was : I'm sorry.

Please forgive me. I'll be better, I'll behave. Please understand.

I'm sorry. Those words were pathetic. Yet, it was all he could think, it was all he wanted to say.

"It sure is a surprise, trust me, I know."

I'm sorry. Those two words ghosted themselves continuously out of his mouth, as he blew them into thin air. Somehow, they got clogged in his throat whenever he thought about using his voice. It simply wasn't possible, no matter how hard Stanley tried. I'm-

" - sorry, Stanley."

What?

"In all honesty, I seem to have misjudged myself. And- and you, Stanley.
I've thought about it and well- maybe it's best you stay."

Stanley felt his heart jump.
In a way, he felt guilty, that the Narrator had beat him to apologising. But right now, he was overwhelmed with emotion.

"And- uhm.. you shouldn't have had to put up with that.. reaction of mine. You shouldn't have had to put up with any of it. I apologise for that as well."

The Narrator sounded, so down, so dejected, that Stanley believed him without a second thought. It was enough to remind him of his past months and all the desolation he'd faced.
It was nothing to be upset over now.
He'd lived through it already.
He was past it, alive and well. All that waiting, all that wishing, all that grieving, had been worth it. He was glad.
For once, he would be able to live properly again, in the way he wanted to.

"What do you say, Stanley? Would you like to come back... with me?"

Stanley nodded.
The Narrator had been lonely too, hadn't he?

"Alright then! There's no time to waste. I've made so many new things for you, that I'm sure you're not even prepared for them. But we can see about that. Off we go, Stanley!"

That happy tone was what Stanley wanted. Soon, this could all be something they'd joke about. Oh how dumb we were, they could say, to think we'd be able to split so easily.

Stanley could live like this. There's nothing else he'd want as badly, than to simply live with the Narrator by his side.

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( Woah. Honestly I barely remember what I wrote. I doubt it's fantastic but it sure is a storyline.
I have so many comedy ideas to do.)