For a long time, Bendy just sat there on the floor beside the child. His hand had fallen from her head ages ago, instead resting on his bent knee. He just. Sat there. In silence. Thinking. About nothing at all.

The only sound was Mary's – Henry's little niece, who'da thunk it? - quiet little snores. No more pounding on the door, no more slithering crawling, it was just a child sleeping.

It kept pulling his thoughts back to her, back to their current predicament. What would he have done, he wondered, if Henry had come here instead? Persuade him to help him get out of the studio? Wished revenge on Joey? (He still couldn't remember why he was so furious at the thought of that man...He seemed to have one giant fuzzy hole in his memory.) Would he have wanted to keep Henry here with him, catch up on old times?

He didn't know and he couldn't say. He did know what he had to do with Mary, though. She was only a child, a little girl who should never have come here to begin with. This was his fault, he thought. If he'd turned her away as soon as he saw she was just a kid, then this wouldn't have happened. If he'd taken one look at her and said 'This is no place for children, run on home,' they wouldn't be down here hiding from a monster version of himself.

But he hadn't. He'd asked her to help fix the machine. Walked her through the process, told her what to do. To save Boris.

And then everything had gone pear-shaped.

All he wanted right now was to get her out of here. All he wanted was to see her home.

He just hoped her uncle wouldn't be too angry about the bump on her head. He was mad enough at himself about that.

("Good night, little lamb...Ma-ry had a lit-tle lamb, lit-tle lamb, lit-tle lamb..."

He used to enjoy that rhyme, damn it.

Damn Sammy. He never did like the guy.)

Bendy took a deep breath he wasn't fully sure he needed, to stable his nerves. Easy now, calm. There was a kid here.

And...

"I know you're here," he called out, quiet so as not to wake Mary. "Come on, buddy, don't you wanna say hi to an old friend?"

Pause.

Then slow, light footsteps, and Boris rounded the corner, keeping a reasonable distance away from Bendy. He seemed to regard him with curiosity, and...a bit of fear.

Bendy was unfazed. It didn't matter how Boris looked at him. He was alive. "Hey, bud," he said, a tired smile on his face. "I guess the Ink Machine worked out then?"

Boris didn't respond. Not to that, anyway. His black eyes moved to look behind Bendy, at Mary's sleeping form. "Izzat Henry's girl?" he asked.

"Nah. His niece. She's his little sister's kid." Bendy looked back at her, briefly rubbing her head affectionately. "Henry got a letter, tellin' him to come. But Mary came instead." He looked back to Boris, noting the way he'd gone tense and stepped back when he mentioned the letter. "We saw ya strapped up...she thought the Ink Machine'd fix ya. Well, she thought we could fix ya, but I thought of the Ink Machine."

"Bendy..." Boris cast his gaze around the room, tapping his gloved fingertips together. "Bendy, ol' pal-"

"Yeah?"

"Ya shouldn'ta turned on the machine."

Bendy sat up straighter, a frown on his face. "What? What do you mean I shouldn't – Boris, we saved your life!"

"And I'm grateful to ya, pal, I really am, but – But, Bendy, you know how dangerous it was, is! This was an awful idea, you shoulda just—"

"Just what, left you like that?!" Bendy's voice rose in pitch at the end, his hand flew into the air angrily. Mary stirred behind him, and he quickly lowered his voice to a harsh whisper again. "Boris, I hate that piece o' junk as much as you do, but it was the only way to save you."

"I know that," Boris muttered, his own voice low to match Bendy's. "But you don't seem to realize...y'don't know... I just can't believe you would go near that machine again. After what Joey did to you..."

What did that have to do with it? What did the machine have to do with the way Joey started treating them, ran the place? But Bendy was silent. So was Boris.

Neither spoke, just staring at each other. There were a lot of emotions running around in their chests, but not all of them compatible, and it resulted in very blank expressions. There was relief, of course, at seeing their friend alive and well. Gratitude for being alive – both for very different reasons. Confusion. Fear. Regret. Anger. Caution.

If they had enough time, they could probably have sat and hashed all of those feelings out. Talking through everything.

But they didn't have that much time. Once Mary woke up – and Bendy wasn't going to let her sleep the entire night away, the sooner they got moving again the better – they'd be on the move. Get to the exit, get out of here. Hopefully forever.

"Come with us."

"Wha?" Boris stared.

Bendy grinned his trademark smile, holding one hand out. "Come with us to the exit, silly! When I get Mary outta here, I bet she'll take us with her! She can take us to Henry, we can live with him or something! Or...or maybe we can make him draw us again, everything can the way it used to be. Better, even! Just..." His grin slowly faded, replaced by a worried expression. "Just come with us...please?"

Boris stood there. He said nothing.

He looked at the barricaded door.

Then at Mary, still fast asleep.

He took note of the wrench that lay just outside of the blanket Bendy had thrown over her. It was splattered with ink.

He looked at Bendy.

"I'd like to, pal, but-"

"But?"

"Not now." Boris shook his head. "Not with- not with that out there."

The way he'd said 'that' made Bendy's chest feel hot. Okay, he hated the monstrous inky thing outside too, but...but it looked like him. It was weird to hear someone else refer to it with such fear and anxiety – only he was allowed to do that! And that was because he was Bendy, not that thing. He made people smile, he made them happy, that thing just wanted to hurt them, they were nothing alike!

"I'll be much safer down here," Boris finished. "So would you two!"

"Boris-"

"He'll kill us if he finds us, Bend' ol' pal...He won't like that I'm walking around again, he won't like that you are...It's safer if we all stay here. And I'd feel a lot better knowin' you're safe, too-"

"Boris. Mary can't stay down here," Bendy urged. "She's not a cartoon, she's a little girl. You remember the crew, right? They needed food, sleep, water, all that jazz! Mary needs more than they did, because she's a kid, she – she's human, Boris, if she stayed down here she'd just die eventually. And that door's not going to hold forever, either – one day, that thing would get in!"

More silence.

"Then I s'pose...I s'pose you'll have to hurry before it does." Boris's tone sounded defeated. As if he knew it was useless to argue.

They both did, really. Neither of them would budge on their stands.

"I suppose so, then," Bendy said, folding his arms over his chest.

"You'll come back to see me after, right?" Boris sounded hopeful. "After Mary gets home?"

"Aw, Boris, you know I will! Heck, I'll do ya one better and figure out what's up with that ink thing and fix it!"

How he was going to do that, he had no idea. And honestly it took second priority at the moment. But he had to say something.

It was worth it, besides, for the brilliant smile on Boris's face.

"Thanks, pal," Boris said, sticking his own hand out for a shake.

As the two gripped hands, Boris's gaze shifted back to Mary. "And can ya tell her...after you get her to the exit...tell her to tell Henry I said hi?"

Bendy's chest tightened painfully, as did his throat. "'course I will...'course I will."