Chapter Text
The world shifted around Stanley as the bean's car lurched to a stop. Various dry goods and produce leaned into the borrower before returning to their stations. He could hardly move, squished between a box of pasta and the side of the tote bag in which he was trapped.
They had been traveling for an awfully long time, or at least it felt that way to Stanley. He had no way of knowing, being unable to see out from his canvas prison.
The air pressure fluctuated as the door beside him opened. A cold autumn breeze rolled its way into the vehicle.
His stomach lurched suddenly as the bag was lifted from its spot on the floor. It swung slightly as it was carried.
Stanley heard the crunch of gravel under the bean's feet as they walked. Then, the sound was replaced by the dull tapping of shoes on stone. The bag bounced a few times, causing Stanley to lose whatever footing he'd managed to maintain up until that point and he covered his head as he slid further down into the bottom.
The bean paused. Stanley could make out the jingling of keys just beyond the canvas. The air pressure shifted again as the borrower heard a new door open.
The footsteps changed again to echo on hardwood flooring. The cold abated. They were inside now.
Stanley's pulse accelerated as the reality of his situation began to sink in. He was alone in an unknown building, trapped in a bag in the hands of a human bean.
He was helpless. His fate was completely at the mercy of these beans who had no idea he even existed.
The sound of his own thumping heartbeat filled Stanley's ears. He was only dimly aware of the voices engaging in some kind of brief conversation.
Then, the footsteps he had arrived with receded. A distant door opened and shut.
No no no, he couldn't stay here! He needed to go home!
The borrower bit his tongue and focused on the pain. He was dangerously close to dissociating from the situation altogether.
Sure, this was bad! But, he had gotten out of worse scrapes before! He couldn't think of any instances right now, but that was okay! He would figure something out! He always figured something out!
The world shifted again as the tote was set onto a flat surface that Stanley hoped was the floor, but, knowing his luck, was much more likely a table or countertop. The feeling of a solid surface beneath his hands brought him back to reality enough to focus.
Right, yes. Where was he now?
The borrower got to his feet and, readjusting his pack, crept around the pasta box, forward, to the edge of the bag.
He appeared to be in a kitchen. The surface beneath him was wooden, which didn't tell him much. However, his eye level appeared to be in line with a countertop. Table it was, then.
Not ideal, but it meant that the bean would need to face the opposite direction to put things away, and that might give Stanley an opening to escape.
A rustling of motion from his right caught the borrower's attention. The bean was close by. Stanley could feel the vibrations that his steps made through the table as he shifted back and forth, depositing the various foodstuffs in cabinets and drawers. The borrower risked a glance past the mouth of the cavernous bag.
The bean was right there, shelving his groceries, oblivious to the inadvertent stowaway in his home.
He seemed average height for a human, if not a bit on the shorter side. Of course, this didn't mean much to Stanley. A short human was still substantially larger than himself.
Stanley could see, eyeing the back of the bean’s head, that the man’s hair was greying. This was a good sign. If he was on the older side, Stanley might be able to out-maneuver him.
He also wore glasses. Presumably he was nearsighted, which meant his peripheral vision was likely poor. Another point in Stanley's favor.
Stanley stepped back into the bag, putting his back against the pasta box which had previously pinned him.
He was going to have to make a run for it.
He'd only get one chance.
The borrower closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steel his nerves.
Before he could act, the canvas floor beneath Stanley's feet was abruptly pulled out from under him. Like a bad magic trick, the borrower went tumbling to the ground.
The man had pulled the second bag closer. He wasn't even finished with the first!
Stanley had no more time to wonder as he registered wood beneath his hands and eyes on his back. There was a single moment of crushing realization.
Then, the borrower bolted for the table's edge.
"Wha- hey!" The bean shouted.
Stanley’s legs moved faster than his mind.
He zigzagged through bags of produce and boxes of unshelved groceries.
The entire time, he felt the looming shadow of the human bean behind him, growing closer, closing in.
He caught movement in his left peripheral and ducked just fast enough to avoid the incoming hand, the force of which roared in the air above him like a sonic boom. The bean growled in frustration, readying another strike.
Stanley kept running.
Okay, that accounted for one hand. But where was-?
Hand number two slammed into him like a freight train, forcing the air from Stanley's lungs as he was lifted from the table.
Fingers as large as his torso tightened around him.
He wriggled his body, trying to get away but he was running out of oxygen now and, in this crushing grip, he couldn't breathe.
With no more time to think, he located the nearest fleshy surface and bit down hard.
Stanley barely registered the bean's shout as the hand sprung open, depositing the borrower back onto the table's surface, stunned and disoriented.
The borrower's chest stung as he forced air into his lungs.
He needed to get off the table to a more defensible position. He picked a direction at random and moved, not even bothering to look ahead.
Stanley got about four steps in before his wish was granted as he stepped off the table's edge into open air below.
The borrower twisted in the air like a cat, ready to land on his feet this time. For one, blissful moment Stanley allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that he had evaded capture.
Then, Stanley's entire world went dark as an oppressive fabric crushed in on him from all sides.
"Gotcha!" He heard the man chuckle.
The borrower squirmed, trying desperately to break free, but all he managed to do was dislodge his backpack.
He tried to bite, but it had no impact through the fabric.
He could barely make out the muffled sound of the bean still talking.
"So you thought you could just come in here and have your run of the place, huh?"
Stanley felt the tremor of the man's steps as he strode across the kitchen. There was the muffled clinking of glass and then:
"Alright then, let's see you."
The fabric finally dropped out from under him. However, he fell only a short distance before his back hit glass, knocking the wind out of him for a second time.
Stanley scrambled back, away from the direction where he'd last heard the voice, until his route was blocked by another wall of glass behind him.
He glanced back and regretted it immediately as he saw the bean's calloused fingers wrapped around his newest holding cell.
His eyes followed the huge arm up to the man's body and then to his face, which was scrunched up in concentration as he observed his prize.
Stanley's chest heaved as he struggled to get air into his lungs. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and disappear from beneath the man's piercing gaze.
The bean's expression shifted from one of playful malice to one of pure confusion.
"What... are you?" He breathed, fogging the glass slightly.
Stanley pressed himself further into the glass as the bean brought the jar up closer to his enormous face.
Wrinkled brows creased together as the man's green eyes seemed to take in Stanley's entire being.
The jar tilted beneath him and Stanley slid forward. He made the mistake of looking down.
The glass bottom of the jar created the illusion that he was floating in midair, unsupported, and that he may fall at any moment.
He curled fully into the fetal position, clutching his own tail like a child who had just awoken from a nightmare. And oh, how Stanley wished he could wake up. The situation he found himself in now was any borrower’s worst nightmare.
He tried anyway. Stanley squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to awaken at home. He was beginning to feel lightheaded.
Suddenly, the floor seemed to disappear from beneath Stanley. He hung in the air for just a moment before the glass returned, abruptly slamming into his side. Automatically, his limbs splayed out to try and find some sort of footing.
The motion stopped.
When nothing else happened, Stanley curled up again.
The action repeated, and this time Stanley bashed his elbow into the glass. The pain made him open his eyes.
Stanley looked out and had the sickening realization that the bean was shaking the jar . The man was doing this on purpose to try and get a better look at him.
On top of everything else, this was too much for the borrower. Despite his best efforts, Stanley blacked out.