A/N: So, funny story, this is actually the first BATIM fanfiction that I've ever written. Or more rather, the beginning quarter of it is. I ended up loosing momentum on it sometime last year, and then UaD happened so I ended up getting permanently sidetracked until sometime last month or so when the last bit of dialogue finally came together. Hopefully this isn't too patchwork considering the length of time, or too stale given that I know the subject matter is kinda old.

Enjoy!

Carry Me Home:

Henry felt like he couldn't turn around, and that had to be the most nerve-wracking part. All he could do was listen as the inky monstrosity prowled around outside of his hiding place, faint growls the only sign that whatever mindset Bendy was in at the moment, the now-very-large devil remained oblivious to where the man was. Still Henry strained his ears even harder than he had during those long nights during the war, when snipers and enemy soldiers were an ever-present threat on the frontlines.

Despite the fact that he felt some of those older instincts coming back, the aging animator had to admit that the obstacles he currently faced were much different than the ones he'd had to deal with in Europe. After all, he'd had a squad there, more people to rely on. It was also somehow less innately terrifying when your enemy was just another man; he'd only become more and more confused about what he was facing the longer his stay in the studio went on. And, in a somewhat darker tone, he had to admit that the prospect of being slowly suffocated in ink was more harrowing than getting a comparatively swifter end via a bullet to an exposed head.

Though if Bendy caught him, he wouldn't merely smother Henry the way the Searchers had been trying to do. No, the somewhat savage mindset had already proved to have a much grislier process when it came to dealing with enemies. Henry almost caught himself in the half-memory of an oversized hand clasped round his head, and internally shook himself to focus again.

The growls outside reached a new, frustrated pitch, the sounds of things being smacked by what he hoped at this point was only Bendy reverberated through the closet Henry'd holed himself up in. He couldn't run, Bendy would see if he did, and Henry already knew from experience that his friend's monstrous form would easily outdo his old bones in a race. That left just sitting tight, staying quiet, and hoping that the devil toon would be able to take control of himself before he figured out where the animator was.

Not the best plan, but given the circumstances…

Henry almost didn't notice the noise outside stop, but the moment the silence registered the animator had to keep himself from bolting, feeling panic begin to settle like a heavy brick in his stomach. Had Bendy found him? Was he about to be run down? Quietly, almost mechanically, his neck turned to the door a few feet away, almost expecting to hear a roar, the wood shattering as an inky fist big enough to wrap entirely around his body came crashing through…

Still, nothing. Not even a sound of disturbed ink outside. A perfect quiet.

And not one that the animator liked at all.

Even so he didn't move, keeping himself tense and ready just in case the worst were to happen. The thoughts that had been running through his brain like wildfire were now completely still as Henry tried to get some clue as to what was happening outside.

The sudden splooshes and swishing of ink moving around outside made the animator jump, axe clutched even tighter to shield himself. He was just about ready for the door to come splintering down when he heard Bendy again.

Except this time, it wasn't growls or even roaring Henry was hearing. The noises coming from the hallway were distinctly less terrifying, increasingly frantic whimpers. It took a moment for the thought to even register, though Henry immediately scrambled to the door. In retrospect, perhaps he shouldn't have been opening itwith enough force that it thudded against the wall, though the look on Bendy's face quashed any fears that Henry may have had regarding whether or not his friend was through the bloodthirsty fit.

The melting, liquid face was the perfect picture of shock, fear, and complete emotional upset. It hit Henry abruptly, that with the multiple close calls that they've had, the last thing that Bendy would want to be greeted by upon coming back would be a completely empty room, with no sign as to what happened to the animator.

The hall was still somewhat ink-logged and caused his feet to stick to the floor, but Henry still wasted no time in stumbling over to the distraught toon. His worry only grew as the inky mass quivered, Bendy's arms reaching out before dropping to the floor. It was a gesture Henry recognized, though it broke his heart to see the aborted effort. Almost as though Bendy either didn't quite believe what he was seeing, or thought he would be rejected.

"Hey, hey," Henry found himself saying in a tone both quiet and calming, reserved for the more hysterical moments of this insane adventure. "I'm here, I'm okay, it's okay Bendy, I'm here…"

The only response the devil was able to give was a low, watery whine, before creakily pitching his head forward to rest on Henry's shoulder. The animator managed to get a minute hug in before the dripping form began to lose coherence, and he realized that there was a piece of paper stuck to the spot where the great head had been pressed. When he managed to pry the slip away from the stained shoulder, Henry immediately saw the little devil, practically curled with his head cradled in his hands, small frame still vibrating with distressed energy.

"Hey, bud, been wondering when you'd get back."

The warbling laughter was definitely heartening though when Bendy actually tried to look up at Henry's face, and immediately dropped whatever giddiness he'd mustered, the animator knew he was going to have a long next few hours.

"It's alright, Bendy, you didn't do anything to me."

"Yeah, this time."

"Bendy." The semi-sardonic response gets a low growl of a tone from Henry, though the man almost regrets it when the toon devil's expression falls further, head sinking lower onto his knees.

"'M sorry Henry, it's…I just…I couldn't find you an' I th-thought I'd actually…"

Done you in. This time.

It wasn't said but easy enough to read in the way Bendy's frame folded in, almost as though he was trying to get small enough to hide from the idea itself. Henry's expression was torn between his own sympathy for the little devil, and quiet frustration at the situation. They'd been up and down over this a hundred times, with Henry calmly diffusing or in some cases outright shouting down the fears and condemnations Bendy would level against himself.

Experiences like this though, just seemed to make him feel as though he were standing on one side of a wall with Bendy on the other, and the barrier just kept getting higher and higher.

It felt futile, sometimes, like slogging through the ink in the halls, but if there was one thing that Henry could say he had in spades it was patience and persistence to keep trying. If he was getting out of here, then he was going to bring with him the one bit of light that still lingered in this hellhole of a studio.

Bendy was going to get to see the outside, Henry promised himself and the little devil this. And, well, Henry liked to think he was pretty good about keeping his promises to people. Well, most people, though Joey had been an infinitely more complicated matter.

"Henry…?" Bendy suddenly asked, voice small and slightly strained, either from what the little devil was about to say or from the wear and tear of the past few minutes.

"Still here, bud. What's on your mind?"

The silence that came after the question was so thick Henry could have taken a swing at it with his axe. The way it carried on and on just made the moment worse, almost as though Bendy was gearing himself up for something that he really, really didn't want to be doing.

Or knew was going to be a lot harder the second time around.

"What if…?" Bendy starts, then stops. Henry sneaks a glance down at the paper, seeing the way the devil stood with his shoulders drawn up and head bowed to the point where Henry was sure that all the little doodle could see was his shoes.

"What if 'm, not s'pposed to get out of here?"

It came out so garbled that for a second, Henry wasn't entirely sure what he was hearing. But when it finally hit as to what Bendy was trying to say, the animator felt a stern frown set in on his face.

"Bendy-."

"Just, just listen! What if, what if I end up doing somethin' bad out there too? W-What if I hurt you again, what if I hurt somebody else, an', an' they just throw me back in here-!"

"No." The word was like iron, crashing through the devil's fearful, bordering hysterical rambling and bringing it to a screeching halt. Bendy's gaze quickly snapped up to meet Henry's eyes, and nearly glanced away again at the sheer intensity practically beaming from them. The man looked fit to somehow extract the defeatism from the conversation and beat it with the axe until it stayed down. However, if the sheer image that the aging animator cut was enough to shock Bendy into silence, what the man had to say would leave him utterly gob smacked.

"That is not going to happen, because I. Won't. Let it. We'll find a way to get you off the page, and if we have to, we'll deal with any of your…fits, when they happen. And if, God help us, someone tries to force you back in here, then they'll have to force me in with you." Raising the paper to about chest height, Henry briefly took his hand off his improvised cane, letting it rest against his leg as he emphasized his point with a jabbing finger at the scrappy paper, and the shocked-silent toon inked on it. "I'm not leaving you behind, bud, and I will not give up on you. Get that through your head, alright?"

The lighting in the hallway being what it was, it took Henry a few moments to realize that his words had reduced the toon devil to almost-noiseless tears. The audible hitching in Bendy's breathing was a dead giveaway as to what was happening, the hard determination in Henry's face softening at the tiny sounds and faint shakes the toon's frame was giving.

He would not apologize for what had been said, though…

"…Let's take a break, bud."

"…Huh? But Henry…"

"It's alright. I think we're due."

"…If'n you're sure, Henry." The name was laced with fondness, but Henry could see the signs of exhaustion starting to creep in at the edges of the toon's expression. Bendy just didn't look as springy as he usually did when he was worn out. Still there was an air some sort of mischief in the devil's gaze, the next words tumbling from the toon's mouth confirming Henry's thought. "Wouldn' leave you behind either, even if I gotta carry you with me."

"…Thanks, Bendy." Henry murmured, turning his attention to the doors lining the hallway. The first two on either side were locked, but the second to the right opened easily. There was a faint, musty smell to the place, but the ink puddles and drips were minimal. It would be fine for at least a few hours, long enough that the pair could cool down before continuing. There weren't any chairs, the place only occupied by boxes and a dusty desk in a corner. Still, Henry figured the floor was fine enough for him, at least for a few minutes.

Settling down, the animator was about to place the paper on the desk before he noticed a leak in the ceiling above and opted to just keep the slip with him. The toon was already starting to wind down, sitting on the line drawn on the page with a hand tiredly propping up his head. The wall might as well have been a down pillow for how Henry sagged back onto it, Bendy's paper held in between a hand and the stained white shirt, under which thumped the animator's heart. The rhythm reverberated through the devil's mostly blank 'home', the gentle beat lulling Bendy into a partial doze. Still, before he slipped off, the little toon had the presence of mind to give the animator a few words.

"G'night, Henry…see ya inna bit."

"You too, bud."