"So I guess I'm- well I... I don't know what I am. But it doesn't feel right," you inhaled, and then were unnerved by the feeling of air not really going anywhere. "Like uh, a zombie?"
Bendy shrugged and swirled his feet in the ink.
"And Joey got away. The bastard. I've never hated anybody as much as I hate him! And I don't think I've actually hated anybody at all! He has to still be somewhere- you locked all the doors!"
The demon grunted.
You crossed your legs, the stickiness uncomfortable, and spread your gooey fingers out. A grimace set upon your face, unhappy. "Wow, what a night. I need a bath," you eyed him expectantly. "Bendy? Say something? I know you talked to me! I heard it! Bendy?"
He finally looked over. You didn't seem to understand the severity of all that occurred within the last half hour. Feeling overcome with intense emotion, he clumsily scooted closer and draped himself across your shoulders, nuzzling roughly against your head. His drippy horns liquified more in his emotional state, mixing with the ink flattening your hair.
You yelped in surprise and nearly collapsed with the weight. Of course. You may be alive, but you had been shot. The image of his hand over yours as you sat bleeding flooded your mind. You softly set your hands on his back, petting and fiddling with the spines.
"Hey," you said softly. "It's okay, I'm alive."
He squeezed you tighter, like you'd slip through his hands. Life was sand. A fleeting mess. The balance offset by just the will of the wind. Bendy had only recently begun to get a grip of himself again, only now resuming some semblance of normality, and if he'd actually lost you to that man... he'd bring down the whole damn building himself. There'd be no point without you.
"Bendy, please, it's alright."
He held you a little longer, before letting up. His hands remained on your shoulders as he gazed across your face, and then lower, and then back. He didn't regret what he'd done. But you didn't look like, well, how a human ought to have looked. There were still strings of ink connecting the two of you. One befell its own heaviness and dipped, separating. Were you aware?
You gave him a compassionate smile. "I may be covered head to toe, but... we can still look for Joey again. I can have a bath later. Look, I'll even let you go ahead first. No hostage situations this time."
Bendy released you and appeared to be thinking it over. He turned towards the machine and stared out at it, feeling as far as he could feel. There were no pipes in Joey's secret room; no ink to see or feel or hear through. He slumped as if sighing, then painstakingly stood up. He was still angry, but after all that had happened Bendy was also exhausted. You wanted to continue the search, so he would. For now. If you collapsed that was it.
He held out his hand, and you took it.
"Woah, I feel sick," you wobbled, grimacing.
Bendy carefully kept you on your feet as you took a moment. Then you swallowed, the sour taste of ink at the back of your throat doing your stomach no good. Oh, your bones ached. You swayed and exhaled, watching with disgust as a bit of ink dribbled from your chin. You were alive, and that's what mattered. You straightened and clumsily walked forward with Bendy's gaze trained hard on your back.
"I didn't know you had that power," you commented quietly as you went into the hall. You wanted to speed up, but everything hurt to move.
Bendy just hobbled silently to the side, ready to catch you if you were to have another wave of nausea or fall. He was studying you carefully.
"Even Joey doesn't know what you are then, huh? I mean not really. He said you couldn't bring the dead back to life!" Suddenly you faltered and had to clear your throat. Ink kept running down it and making your voice sound grossly wet. You spit.
The demon whimpered, so you took his hand to calm him. It felt like... it felt like you could read him easier. Like maybe you could even feel him, just a little bit, in the back of your head. It was a small, whispering connection, but it was still a connection. You could feel that he was worried. After all, you'd just risen from the dead after he'd seen you shot, and now you were gallivanting around the halls.
"Bendy, I'm okay! Truly, I promise. Just feeling a little gross. Look, Joey went that way!"
The door of the secret room was slipped open, its once unnaturally clean floors now reddened by your blood. It made your stomach churn to even look at. Feet gingerly avoided the still wet goop, and as you tip-toed over the discarded gun you spared your purse a considering glance. No way you'd pick that back up while covered in inky sludge. Maybe later. For now the scattered contents of the room would remain where they sat, even the lonely little Bendy doll and Joey's forgotten cash.
Your mission was the second room. It door was flung away so hard from its closed position that you were surprised the hinges and wooden boards behind it had survived. The dark maw of the entrance was a waiting beast; it led into a creepy hallway that stretched on and on then suddenly went up a long flight of stairs. It was dark, save for a sparse set of hanging light bulbs, which led up to the staircase's mouth. The sight made you shutter.
"Come on," you whispered, gesturing for Bendy. "I said you'd go first."
He hesitated, then limped forward. The way he couldn't sense any of the walls or floors here made him uncomfortable, but he didn't show that. Instead Bendy plodded through steadily, his little human at his drippy heels. The two of you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up. It was like staring into a void.
"I really hope this doesn't lead to a million places," you scrunched your face and shuttered again. "We'd never find him again!"
Luckily it didn't. But the staircase was immensely long, winding around and around and around without any indication how far you'd climbed. To keep from having to actually walk up the damned thing, Bendy would open portal after portal, allowing the two of you to jump a few flights at a time. Being able to coat the walls with his ink made it much more homey, he found. It kept you from collapsing, but even doing just this you were quickly losing energy and motivation. By the time you'd got to the top you were clutching at your chest and hunching over.
There was a door. "He's probably long gone from wherever this lead us," you droned pessimistically. Then you shrugged. "Or I don't know. Maybe he's behind it sipping a cocktail."
Bendy was glad you still had some humor in you despite your pain. He wanted to touch you, carry you away to rest, but he needed to get this over with. You needed to get this over with. His hand lingered, as if afraid of the shining metal at his finger tips. He rubbed his thumb over it gently, then he grit his teeth and threw open the door.
He was overcome with a warm push of air against his cool outer ink. Bendy made a confused groan. What was this? What the Hell was this? Fresh, circulating air. It was dark. Real dark. He could not see beyond the barely lit wood frame.
You moved around him, blinking wide eyes. "No way. No no no," you shook Bendy's arm and stomped a foot dramatically. "Bendy! This is the outside!"
He looked from you to the darkness beyond the door. Then suddenly he was vibrating, an angry gurgling coming from his throat. He roared and slammed it shut, nearly breaking the silver knob from its parent.
"Wait!" You tried desperately, grasping onto anything in hopes of revenge. "Maybe I can go out, look for him! I could bring him back, yeah! Yeah, I could do that!"
You pushed it opened again and stepped out, giving Bendy no time to reach forward and grab you. He shook his head as your feet hit the grass. Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea, bad idea...
"Maybe not, it's real dark," you complained, staring up at the stars. "Where even did this door take us?" Squinting, you realized there was no building here at all. The hall and stairs had spat you out somewhere close to Joey Drew Studios but far enough away that you could no longer see the campus. It was like... a secret storm door. The most you could make out in the empty darkness were the solid shapes of distant ridgy rocks and tall trees, like rusted nails to the earth.
You sighed, hands to hips, and admired the sky disdainfully. At least there were the stars as consolation; holes pricked in paper, flashing and sparkling above. It was hard to be too blisteringly angry with such a sight. It soothed. But only a little. Suddenly another memory hit you over the head; the sight of Bendy, covered in blinking stars as you were bleeding out. A hand came up to your chest where you'd been shot and you sighed.
What time was it? Eleven at night or five in the morning? You went to glance at your watch, you found your body to be... melting. Yeah, that's what it looked like. You were melting. Long, fat tendrils of sloppy ink starting to fall to the ground.
For a split second you thought that the heavy ink was simply falling off, but then it began to feel funny. You held your hand out into the dark and splayed your fingers curiously. Wet bits of ink slipped down from the tips. There was bone. You were looking at the bones in your hand. You screamed. The stars were gone.
The world swirled dizzily, all you could register was the sharp pull of movement. Everything felt dim and faint. Somewhere that door was closed, the warm outside air being locked away behind it. A figure crouched over your body. When had you fallen over? You shook your head and the world came back like it was never gone at all.
Bendy made a funny noise and put his hand atop your head, as he had a habit of doing. He stroked you softly like a timid animal; Joey and the last of his anger had been forgotten. He just wanted you to be safe. To feel better. He had had enough of head hunting. Besides... he was certain Joey was gone, and he was not coming back.
In a panic you lifted your hand up into the dim light of the stairwell. It looked... it was fine. Black as ink, no bone showing through at all. Your body had re-solidified.
"Be-Bendy? Something's wrong, I..." you trembled. "I need to go to the bathroom. Can you take me there? Please?"
His horns lifted, then spread again. Bendy lowered his head and helped you to stand as a portal opened its jaws. He led you through it slowly as if afraid to move forward, and as he stepped through behind you he removed the world from beyond the door. There. No one would ever leave now.
The portal put you right outside the restroom of the art department and you quickly scrambled inside. Bendy hesitantly followed, but faltered at the door frame. He stood and swayed and glanced around awkwardly, unsure of what to do or if he was best leaving you be.
You had to see yourself; had to see your face, the features of your eyes and mouth and jaw. You rushed in front of the cracked mirror. God, you looked like shit. From head to toe you were caked. The only notion of normalcy were your blood-shot eyes, irritated from the ink, still somehow left with color albeit for black tear ducts and a few uncanny blotches.
"Yeah, yeah I do need a bath," you scoffed to yourself.
It concerned you that not a drop had dried. The ink remained living; oozing and sticking to your skin. Like being dipped in wet paint. You leaned over the counter and studied your face, tried to rub at the ink. It didn't go away, but at least you could feel the solid form of your face underneath. The ink had to at least be two inches thick. Three at the most, when blobs ran over your cheeks.
The faucet was turned on and Bendy jumped, taking a step back. "It's alright, I'm just gonna clean up a little," you assured him. "I won't get you wet."
But when you went to put your hand under the stream you paused. A sinking feeling filled your gut and your hand shook. After steeling yourself you dipped a finger in. The ink wasn't washing away, as if adhered to the surface. So you rubbed the pads of your pointer and thumb together harshly. It took a bit, but as soon as you felt that scrape, as soon as you saw something vaguely white, you jerked back. The ink re-covered your exposed bone instantly.
Your mouth fell open, and you hunched over the counter, unable to look at yourself. Regaining at least a little nerve, you rushed to fill your hands with paper towels. You wet them and scrubbed your face.
"Please be skin, please be skin," you whispered. "Please God let it be actual skin."
It was skin. Stained, but skin. Only the small parts of your body had been stripped. Fingers and toes. But the rest retained its form and flesh, at least to some extent. You stopped scrubbing and stared hard at your reflection, watching the ink drip along your face and cover the exposed skin back up. It was overtaking you, wrapping you up in a parasitic embrace to keep you alive, bleeding into your heart and making your lungs useless.
...Saved you..!
You snapped to look at Bendy, frightened once more by the voice in your head. He fidgeted with his hands, his head titled. For some reason you felt guilty? No, that wasn't it. Bendy felt guilty.
Shaking hands squeezed around the balled up paper, then politely threw them in the bin. After a deep breath (which felt so wrong), you crossed your arms and finally addressed him.
"What did you do?"
He looked away like he could not think of what to say.
You turned back to your reflection in the cracked glass; watched a drop of ink slip down your jawline and fall to the ground. Like him. Like his dripping face.
"I'm not all human anymore, am I. That's how you saved me."
Bendy turned his head down like a scolded puppy. What choice did he have?
Tears threatened you, but they all came out as ink. You swallowed and sighed, rubbing at your eyes. The two of you stood there tensely as you thought about it all; what this was supposed to mean, how you were supposed to go on.
"So what... so I can't leave?"
He hesitated, clenching and un-clenching his fists uncomfortably.
…No...Whispered his voices.
"But you left once. More than once. Why can't I?"
He had to think, had to try and phrase his limited speech correctly.
...Can't anymore... Different...
Why did you even ask when you already knew the answer. You saw what happened. If you leave the building you melt. The ink falls from your bones. You shuddered at the memory and turned away from him, hugging yourself tightly. You knew why he did it, you knew he saved you from death. But it was still hard to accept. If you weren't human, what were you? Something in between? A demon, soulless like him? No, you weren't soulless. But your soul certainly wasn't your own anymore.
He wandered closer, wanting to make an apology. Bendy reached out with his gloved hand to touch your shoulder, but instead he became mesmerized by his own reflection in the glass and stopped.
When all was quiet you looked back at him. He tilted his head at the mirror. You looked up at him in the glass, and he looked back down at you in turn. It was funny to see one another side by side like this. He was taller, much more scrawny, with his big smile grinning back at him. And you were shorter, much more person-shaped, with your dark face and hard to read features.
Seeing him sad and confused and frozen there next to you quelled some of the discomfort. Bendy was here with you. He was here for you. The two of you were in it together, drowning in ink and the Hell Joey created. You took his hand and squeezed it, much to his surprise.
"I'm not mad at you Bendy. I don't know, I just... it's different. Like you said."
He was relieved, but still sad. Bendy turned and deflated, slowly setting his forehead to yours. That made you smile. At least a little. Neither of you looked how you were supposed to look anymore, but at least you had one another's company and affection. That was more than Joey would ever have, wherever he'd fled.
When he went to look back at himself in the mirror, you did too. You sighed, or at least your body pretended to sigh, and leaned heavily against the counter. Weak knees were shaking. You were so, so tired, your bones ready to collapse. It had been a rough day.
"Bendy," you said quietly, sounding small and pathetic. "I'm tired. I just want to sleep."
He nodded. Suddenly you felt a gentle hand on your back as he crouched, a second hand at your calves. You cried out as you were unexpectedly tipped backwards, completely disorientating the room. Before you knew it everything stopped spinning and you were up in his arms, like you weighed nothing.
"Bendy?"
He softly grumbled, and you could feel the vibrations from his chest. You were being taken through a portal. For some reason it all felt like slow motion, and you caught yourself just watching his face in a drowsy wonder. This felt like déjà vu; being sleepily carried as his grin loomed above your head, the warmth of his body against your own. You remembered now. As you were dying he'd carried you into the ink just like this, but most of that was a blur from having been in shock. Unlike back then, you were coherent.
"Where are we going?" You asked, before involuntarily yawning.
Bendy turned his head and looked down at you, but didn't say anything back. Something about his gaze made your veins quicken; your ink-drowned heart thumped. You could swear he felt it, as guilt receded and was replaced with a more warm emotion. His grin twitched. You had to hide your face in his boney collar. You were too tired and grumpy to be feeling things like this right now. Too many emotions for one night.
He'd taken you somewhere unfamiliar. It looked like a sort of break room, but if you could compare it to anything, it would be a teachers' lounge. There were two couches and a chair, each with their own little side table. Ash trays sat atop the dusty surfaces, freckled with smelly ash and old cigarette butts. There was also a bigger coffee table in the center where an empty mug and copy of Aesop's Fables lay, ironically enough, next to a pocket-sized Bible. This was quite a bit different than the break room on the animation floor.
"I've never been here before," you commented. "Guess we're still pretty far down the building, huh."
Bendy sat you on a couch as gingerly as a newborn kitten. Nice and easy. You were immensely grateful for his tenderness. The soft cushions felt like Heaven on your sore bones and muscles, so you found yourself smiling dreamily and sinking into the fabric.
He squatted next to the couch, unable or unwilling to rest his boney butt on the hard ground. You thought he looked pleased with himself.
"You've always been such a good boy," you said as you leaned against the plush couch arm, before smirking wryly. "Well, generally."
He didn't know what to think of that, but it struck him with fuzzy feelings. It was always nice to be acknowledged for your actions.
Somewhere a clock was ticking. It was a harmonious metronome that calmed the nerves, and you found yourself glancing at the cover of the Bible in thought. There was one last thing you had to say, before you accidentally fell asleep sitting up. You brought your attention back to his face; the way blobs drooled over the curve of his horns, how they hid his eyes and froze his expression.
"You know... I haven't thanked you for saving my life. I'm glad you saved me, even if..." You trailed off, then shrugged a shoulder. He understood. After a hesitant moment of studying his reaction, you laid a hand against his cheek, leaned forward, and placed a kiss to his forehead. The contact made the tips of your bone burn and set your cheeks ablaze beneath the ink. This may have been a small gesture, but you had never kissed him before.
It felt like a blossom; the petals that thickened for weeks upon weeks, waiting for the perfect moment to spread apart, finally opened their eyes to spring. Comfortable. Freeing. Relief. All that from just a quick, thankful kiss to the forehead. Maybe you were more exhausted than you thought. Or maybe part of that was coming from him, the way you could feel hints of his own emotion hidden behind his stoic face.
When you came away a second later, Bendy seemed to have frozen. He was processing. Then he started to shake as he did when bursting with feelings, before bashfully pressing his head down into your lap to shield himself. It had you giggling, petting his head and teasing him.
"Are you shy now? Since when?" You laughed, ignoring the small twinges of pain from the sound.
He shook his head no and purred, nuzzling affectionately. A moment more and he decided he could fit just as well atop the couch, though perhaps his chosen spot was a poor one, as you currently occupied it. Bendy had you pressing your palms against his chest as he leaned and tried to clamber up like he was still small enough to lay on top of you.
"Wh-wait! You can't fit, AH! Bendy!" You yelped, involuntarily shuttering. He had settled his head in the crook of your neck and licked from your collarbone to your earlobe. "You'd better stop that," you scolded, voice cracking.
The demon had stopped trying to fit and instead had you cornered, one hand on the arm and the other on the back of the couch. With his head resting on your shoulder he was stooped, and you figured it wasn't very comfortable. But that didn't matter, because he could reach where he felt the need to reach.
Of course Bendy did not listen to you. He lifted his head and went in to lick your cheek next, earning himself another yelp. And before you could scold him again, he licked straight up the middle of your face, over your mouth and nose and forehead. All the good stuff.
You sputtered indignantly and wiped at your face, even though everything was ink. "Yuuuck!"
He removed himself to crawl onto the couch and set his head back in your lap, grin wider than ever. Bendy was ecstatic. He stared up at you as you rubbed your neck and gave him an embarrassed half-smile.
"Gross demon," you shook your head and laid you arms at either side, one drooped gently over his collar. "Let's just... go to sleep. Yeah?"
He wiggled, re-adjusting his spines against the couch. Tilting his body made it more comfortable so that they did not jab into the cushions. After he got more cozy he lifted his hands to press them to your cheeks firmly, then promptly dragged your face down.
"Bendy," you glared and warned, bracing for more inky saliva, but none came.
He purred and lifted his head to press your foreheads together and nuzzle roughly. It hurt your neck to hunch over so steeply, but he was endearing. Eventually he let go. You straightened and chuckled tiredly, rubbing a thumb over a horn.
"Well," you yawned, eyes fluttering. "Goodnight then."
Whether or not he'd actually closed his eyes was a mystery, but he seemed to grow still. As you nestled your head down against the crook of the soft, comfortable couch arm, you thought he said something quietly in the back of your brain.
...Love Y/N...
You hummed in question, barely conscious. Bendy did not repeat himself and instead spent a while staring at the ceiling and simply listening to your pseudo-human functions slowly cease as you fell into slumber.