Archive of Our Own ^beta

Years had passed since the last time Stanley had cried about the outside world and his inability to access it.
After all, he had become content staying with the Narrator in the parable. They had gotten along so well, talked about so many different things, shared so many memories and so many experiences. Together. 

Yet today, it hit him again. The parable no longer had much to offer. It felt as if the two were trapped constantly inside a limited space that used to feel infinite. They were confined within their own imaginations, needing to think for themselves, and sometimes, you needed other people's imaginations too. There's only so much you can do with your own mind. 

The Narrator had started to think about Stanley's well being as well. It was the first time he'd even considered that perhaps, this wasn't the best for him. Even though the man looked happy with where he was, even though he seemed comfortable here in the parable, he worried that this wouldn't be enough for Stanley, and that maybe one day, without even knowing, he would mentally fade away. The constant repetition couldn't have been good for him. 

The Narrator knew that soon, Stanley would need to go out and live for once, and feel alive. It hurt knowing that the future was slowly dawning on the both of them. The Narrator wanted Stanley to be free, and to think for himself. Yet he didn't want to let him go.
Surely they'd find eachother again, but how different would it be? Would Stanley recognise him? Would they still share the same memories and the same experiences when they meet eachother - face to face, able to feel eachother's touch? 

They both knew that one day, Stanley would leave, once and for all.
And today, was that day. 

The Narrator had never let Stanley too far into the freedom ending field. Because it wasn't a field.

There was no real sky, or real fresh air, or real sunshine. It was a faked plain of grassland and trees. Yet it was the closest Stanley would have been able to reaching the outside world. The only thing preventing him was a wall of wood and paper behind bright white lights. Once he got through that, he was free. 

The Narrator was scared.
He was scared of Stanley leaving. 

The only person he had felt such a connection to after all the hardships and the arguments. They found peace and comfort in eachother's presence, 

And he couldn't afford to loose that.
So each time he got a bit too close, or a bit too far, a reset would be activated. 

The Narrator never told Stanley this.

It was a bad thing, lying to someone he wanted nothing but to get close to. But he had to. He convinced himself he had to. He couldn't loose him. Not then, not now.  

"Alright, Stanley."
They stood together in the tall grass, further away from the facility than Stanley had ever been. 

"Reach forward for me." 

A cold, smooth surface brushed against his fingertips, breaking the sense of infinity the field gave, shattering the optical illusion. The blue sky was now in his hands, physical. 

He could glide his fingers across what seemed to be a grass green field up towards the light blue sky. 

"A-alright Stanley." The Narrator repeated, swallowing back the feeling of overwhelming longing already creeping up on him. He sighed a deep breath. "This is it. How do you feel?" 

Stanley looked up at him, expression blank until a soft smile spread and eyes seemingly shining in the artificial light. This was it.
It was evident that tears were collecting in his eyes too. 

For the last time in the parable, they shared their emotions. 

"That's not a problem though, of course. It's the end of the parable- your parable, a final goodbye if you will. You could call it a- um.. second epilogue, I suppose. 

After all, that's what an epilogue is, isn't it?
A final goodbye, a conclusion. 

This is the final goodbye of the Stanley parable for you and I, Stanley. 

I hope you're ready. 

I'll miss this. Won't you?" 

A dent appeared where his hand was, and, feeling a gap in the paper, he pulled it open- a door to his true freedom where he was now reluctant to walk.

The fresh air revived Stanley's lungs as he looked back on the parable. The mind control facility, the zen room, the office setting, the memory zone- it was all in the past now. They were moving on. Moving on to a new beginning. 

"You'll go on for a bit without me nagging you, won't that be fun?"
The Narrator forced a breathy laugh, "But don't you worry, Stanley. I'll be back for you, whether you like it or not. You won't be alone for too long, not at all. We'll always meet again, Stanley.
You're a part of me, after all. And I'm a part of you. 

So however long it takes and however much we change, 

As long as you're waiting for me, I'll always be searching for you. 

Until we're together again." 

The Narrator was silent for a second before he took another deep inhale, and for the last time, recited a line from his papers : 

"Stanley stepped through the open door."