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“ Stanley! ” The Narrator’s voice was unexpectedly panicked, freezing Stanley in his tracks, his finger held down on the button. “Stanley, it’s been 12 hours!” His stomach sank. Twelve hours ? And the door was gone, how long would the next skip be? “I don't know why the skips are getting longer, but they're really, truly getting longer. And- hold on, are you still holding it down?”
Stanley looked down at his finger still jammed against the bright yellow button, and nodded in confirmation. His anxiety worsened when the Narrator made several incomprehensible noises before uttering his next sentence.
“Oh, no no no no, Stanley, this is bad, this is very very bad. I can feel the skip build up like a dam, and once you let it go the torrential flood of time will be released, forcing me into solitude for who knows how long. Stanley, you need to let go of the button this instant! Quickly, before it gets any worse!”
The weight of the situation is not lost on Stanley, who suddenly feels sick to his stomach. He can’t just leave the Narrator here, alone, for whatever amount of time he’s already built up by holding down the button this long. But he knows that at the same time, the longer he delays the inevitable, the worse it will get.
No, no, it can’t be inevitable. Stanley refuses to accept it. He won’t let it be. Pushing buttons is what he does best, after all, so he can just hold it down until the end of time, until the Narrator finds a way out of this room, until he can disable the button. He can already feel his finger beginning to protest at the pressure he’s exerting on it, terrified of slipping and triggering the next skip.
“Stanley! Stanley, listen to me! You need to let go of that button right now, please!” The Narrator cries, pulling Stanley out of his thoughts and back into the present moment. His voice cracks on the final syllable in a way that Stanley had hoped to never hear again. It reminds him of another route, another ending, one he swore he’d never go through again, no matter how much the Narrator begged him. He shakes his head, a firm no.
He knew that if he let go, he’d come back to nothing. He’d be all alone. He didn’t want that fate for his Narrator. But at the same time, the longer he held on to this, the worse it got. It was like ripping off a bandage, he just had to get it over with. But he couldn’t get his hand to move.
“Stanley!”
Stanley felt a tear of frustration make its way down his cheek, and shook his head no again. The Narrator sighed, and when he spoke again his voice was thick with anxiety and uncharacteristically shaky.
“There's only one way we can continue on, Stanley. Please, just let go, you’re just making it worse.”
Stanley shook, fat tears were rolling down his cheeks. He would not - he could not leave the Narrator like this. As he began crying, a familiar pair of arms wrapped around him, warm and comforting.
“Stanley,” The Narrator’s voice spoke, up close now. Stanley wanted to turn around and kiss him. He wanted to hug him back, reassure him that everything would be okay. But he couldn’t let go of the button.
“Please, Stanley, can you please do it for me?”
Stanley wanted to shake his head no again. He wanted to keep pressing the button. He wanted to tell the Narrator that they could get out of this together, right? He just needs to hold on a little longer. Then they’ll be fine. They’ll be free.
“Stanley. Look at me.”
The arms disappeared from his sides. Stanley tore his gaze from the looming threat of the button to see the Narrator, tears in his eyes, an expression on his face that reflected his own.
The two cried together, mourning for what they were about to lose, knowing it was what they cared about the most. The Narrator reached out, cupping Stanley’s cheek and brushing away a tear. Their lips met for what they knew may very well be the last time.
“I love you.”
The Narrator smiled, though it was clear he was hurting. It wasn’t a false smile either, it went all the way up to his eyes reflecting a soft yellow glow. The Narrator offered his hand to Stanley, who took it eagerly and gripped it, the warmth relaxing him.
“I… I love you too.” Stanley’s voice cracked from lack of use.
He couldn’t look the Narrator in the eye as he finally let go.
Though it felt no longer than the blink of an eye, Stanley knew it had been unimaginably longer. The hand he had been holding so tightly in his own was gone now, his nails left to dig crescents into the palm of his hand. The room was completely black, the only source of light remaining being the horrible skip button.
Gone was the comforting voice of the Narrator he once knew, replaced with an endless monotone droning.
“The end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the…”
His Narrator was broken. Repeating the same thing over and over and over again to cope with the loneliness, to try to fill the blank space left behind, to stay sane.
It hadn’t worked.
Stanley fell to his knees, heaving as sobs wracked his body. This was all his fault, if only he had just let go of the button, if only he hadn’t been so stubborn, if only, if only, if only .
“The end is never the end is never the end is never the end…”
So he waited. Days, months, years passed by in a blur as Stanley waited for his love to finally come back, to tell him everything is okay, that he forgives him.
“The end is never the end is never the end is…”
He can’t take it anymore, seeing the man broken like this.
“The end is never the end is never…”
With a heart full of lead, Stanley mutters a soft goodbye before the click.