Vingt-deux - Again and again. Around and around.

\

"Okay. Now the real question." Henry crossed his arms at the three figures before him. They'd found an open room, closer to the archives but not there yet. "How are we going to handle Bendy-Land?"

"Good question, little sheep." Sammy was leaning against a wall, arms crossed and mouth quirked in a frown. The mask somehow stuck to the back of his head, as he didn't much like it as a hat. "Norman gets killed by Bendy. It's possible we can figure out an alternative way there that prevents that."

Henry nodded and cracked his neck. "Right. I don't think Norman can fit in the air vent." Or handle the cart across the pit. "You've found a way there the same way Norman does, but I don't know how to get to that path myself."

"I know it, but you wouldn't be able to take it." The ink man sighed and smirked. "I'd rather not lose Norman after just having him join our side."

Henry nodded, shifting uncomfortably. "We might not get a choice."

Buddy frowned and tilted his head a little, then tugged the cable attached to Norman.

The Projectionist turned his light to him in question. He'd been focused on reading the duo's lips, but seeing what they had to say brought back some unpleasant memories.

Buddy pointed at Henry and Sammy.

Norman nodded and held up his hands to form a crude Bendy-head shape. He then drew a finger across his own throat and pointed to himself.

Buddy nodded solemnly and mimicked the throat gesture with a raised brow.

Norman tapped his projector, then made a motion with his hands like he was twisting the lid from a jar.

Could Buddy pale, he would have. He gave a quick nod instead.

A nod from the ink man. "My flock knows to avoid Norman. I must let them know he's not a danger anymore. Although… maybe…" The ink man rested a curled finger to his lips in thought. "I'm unsure, but it's possible Norman can use the ink portals."

"The sigils on the walls?" The ones Henry had been told to not touch?

"Yes. Those." The ink man turned to the Projectionist, brow furrowed. "Norman."

Buddy tugged the cable around his arm and pointed to Sammy when Norman looked down at him. The Projectionist turned his light to Sammy with a hiss of static.

"Do you use the portals?" The ink man paused, left hand tapping out a tango. "The, uh, wall drawings? Like, ah." He gave Henry a pained smirk. "Could I borrow your sketchbook for a moment?"

"Sure." He passed the pad and stub to him. "You can use a page in the back. It's mostly empty."

"It was emptier when I gave it to you, little sheep." It was good to see him drawing again. Meant he could escape this place, even if only a little. But, matter at hand. "Okay, Norman. We need to get to Bendy-Land. Do you have a way there? Or at least to the entrance?"

The Projectionist didn't move.

"Uh… We need you to go there. Henry, Buddy, and I, we're going there too," He looked down and drew out the sigil he knew by heart, and turned it to face the amalgam before him. "If you think you can pass through there, we can do that? There's… there's not a way for Henry to get there like you and I can, so I have to stay with him and go on foot. I mean… I don't think you'd really appreciate the way we get there, and I don't-"

He paused at the sensation of a wide hand on his head. Sammy looked upward, brows raised.

Norman stared him in the face and pointed to himself and then at the sigil on the paper.

"… yes. Use that to get to Bendy-Land."

Norman gave a great shake of his head. He pulled his hands away, reels ticking slowly.

Sammy glowered, but took a breath. "Why not?"

Norman tapped his projector and shut off his light. It came back on, and he raised a hand that hooked like claws, ready to attack.

Sammy instinctively stepped backwards. "You'd… you think you might forget us and hurt someone."

A nod.

Henry sighed and stretched his arms overhead, feeling his back pop. "Okay. That's out." He waved to Norman and spoke when the amber light hit him. "Do you know a way to Bendy-Land from here?"

He nodded and pointed at Buddy. The cable around the wolf's wrist tugged slightly. The Projectionist then walked his fingers in the air like legs and pressed his hands together.

The musician blinked, brows furrowed. "Wait… you want to stay with Buddy?"

Henry spoke up. "That makes sense. Buddy and Norman can talk with hand gestures and grumbles." He didn't know how they managed it, but then again, he wasn't sure how he himself could understand Buddy's gestures half the time.

Buddy's pie-cut eyes widened with a smile and nod, then he tugged the cable around his wrist. Norman looked his way, and the wolf pointed between him and himself, then flashed a thumbs up.

Norman's speaker let out what might have been a pleased noise, but who could say?

"Well… if you're fine with it." He looked to Sammy with a soft smile. "Let's go."

"...fine." He nodded to Norman and Buddy. "Don't get lost."

Buddy gave his best eye-roll, but giggled silently all the same as he and Norman headed out on their path. He turned before heading around a corner and waved to Henry, the last thing he gave being a thumbs up.

Sammy clenched his fists, mouth in a firm line. He let out a low, quiet hum, and turned to Henry, not looking up from the floor. "That could have gone better."

"Could have gone worse," said Henry as he stepped beside him.

The ink man gazed at the cartoonist and sighed. "Norman knows the portals can scramble your mind if you use them wrong." He handed the pad back to the man. "I didn't think he'd know that… I mean, considering his mental state. I… it honestly slipped my mind they did that. I haven't used one in so long that I just… I don't want to say I forgot."

Henry clapped a hand to the ink man's shoulder. "Hey. He remembered. That's a positive in my book." Pulling his hand away, he smiled. "So, we need to get going… but I gotta know."

"Mm?"

Henry squinted. "How did you get to Bendy-Land the way you did, and why do you think I couldn't use the same route?"

"Oh, it's quite mundane. Unimportant."

"Try me. We have a bit of a walk."

"Oh, very well."

The two set off for the Archives, Sammy starting his tale of getting to the abandoned theme park.

/

Buddy despised the dark. As brave as he was slowly becoming, the darkness of Level 14 was always a solid 'No' on his things he'd do for Henry list. He didn't have much choice with the cable around his wrist, however.

Norman didn't slow an inch as he sloshed through the dark, his light guiding his path forward. This place of deep ink and sticky corridors did nothing to scare him. He liked the dark, enjoyed being able to observe whatever fell into his lap. Usually, it was Henry, and often Sammy, who were chased around the dark, stealing his hearts and invading his privacy.

Still… Buddy was a change of pace. He could almost remember who Buddy had been. If he remembered a handful of things about himself, then his memory of Sammy was a pinch, and his memory of Buddy? A hair. The word 'gopher' came to mind for Buddy, but… not the animal. And if gopher was the word but not the one used for animal, what was gopher for Buddy?

Oh well. He hadn't missed the shaking of the arm his cable wrapped around. Norman Polk had never been afraid of the dark, that much of himself remained before he broke his pattern. Still… couldn't have the kid too rattled.

Norman's projector turned to the wolf in question.

Buddy was shaking, but hadn't slowed down. The ink, rising to his knees, rippled with the shakes of his legs. He sheepishly smiled at Norman and covered his eyes with his free hand. He held the same hand over his eyes as if to shield them from a light above and looked around. Waving his hand in front of his face, his ears drooped.

Oh. Okay.

The Projectionist hummed from his speaker and turned his light to its brightest, casting the world before them in burning sepia.

Buddy patted Norman on the arm in thanks, and the two pressed onward into the dark.

\

Sammy hurled the baseball at the milk bottles, knocking the top one off of the pyramid he'd aimed for. "Then, use the ladder like one would monkey bars-"

"Wait." Henry lowered his gun, a brow raised. "Monkey bars?"

He huffed at being interrupted, the baseball firmly in his grip. "What's wrong with monkey bars?"

Henry chuckled. "You know what monkey bars are but can't remember your age."

His offense was forced but his smile wasn't. "That's not all I remember! I distinctly remember being excellent at hurdles in high school, enjoying the beach, and having a love of chocolate cake. There, three more things."

Henry grinned over his glasses at him. "Cake and monkey bars. You're a kid at heart, aren't you?"

Sammy's voice dropped to a threatening growl. "Tell no one." But the threat broke with a grin as he threw the ball and cleared the bottles.

Henry chuckled warmly at the empty threat. He turned back to the shooting game and shot down a marked target. "You're good with these games, Sammy."

"Luck, I can assure you."

Henry gave him a look and set the gun down with a clack. "If you say so. But really, you'd clear out a game booth in three rounds." The idea of Sammy holding a jumbo stuffed animal made the cartoonist smile wide.

The doors to the depths of the theme park opened.

The ink man tilted his head back and gave a cocky smirk. "You flatter me, my little sheep, but I've never had the chance to show off in a real theme park."

"Wait, really?"

"I've seen a few pop-up carnivals. The occasional Fair when I was growing up, but nothing like a true theme park."

"Not even Coney Island?"

"I've never been."

Henry did a double take, slowly turning away from the doors with the most befuddled frown spreading across his wrinkling face. "You lived in New York City but never went to Coney Island?"

He huffed and waved Henry off. "Little busy writing silly cartoon songs." He smirked. "Besides, I like my peace and quiet almost as much as Jack. Too many people and too much noise. It'd be fun if I weren't always…" Himself. "High-strung," he ended with a soft chuckle.

The cartoonist blinked. "We'll go when we get out of here. Not right away, but we'll go."

He ran an inked hand across Henry's back, between the shoulder blades. "I'll hold you to that, my little sheep. Now then, what comes next? I know we did this once before, but that was some loops back."

"There's a lever over on the wall to pull, and one in that little alcove."

Sammy was already over to the four levers. "First pulled first, right?"

"Yup. Wait until I tell you." Henry pointedly looked away from the mascots and tugged the lever down. "Now!"

Sammy tugged and headed back to the game section. The doors opened wide to reveal Research and Development… and three grumbling Butcher Gang clones ambling and chattering down below.

Henry grabbed an empty soup can, frowning. "Now the hard part. Getting to the two levers down there without those guys biting me to death."

The ink man's face sank into a scowl. "They've… bitten you."

"Mhm."

"To death."

"Uh-huh."

Sammy let out a disgruntled noise and turned his ire to the clones below. "Well then. Allow me to say hello." He pulled the axe from his hip and headed for the stairs, only for Henry to grab his nearest arm.

"You have no need. Watch." With his free hand, Henry pulled back the empty can and hurled it to the ground. The three clones pivoted and jabbered after the rolling thing. The cartoonist shot Sammy a smirk and headed down the steps. "I'll get the left, you get the right." Left held the weeping lost one and Lacie's tape, and Sammy didn't need to deal with another possible flashback after the one about Norman broke him like it had.

Sammy shook his head with a smile and headed off to complete his task.

Back up the stairs and into the game room, Sammy pulled the lever for the panel and blinked at it slowly. "Strange that there's more than one switch to a lever."

"Definitely. Not as strange as fighting Bertrum."

Sammy looked at him over a shoulder. "That… begs the question of how he got like that."

"You don't know?"

"Why would I?"

Henry gave him a crooked frown, brows lowered. "When we first started working together on this, you told me about how clones worked, what searchers and lost ones were… I don't know, I'd assumed you'd know how Bertrum works." He shrugged.

"Mm. I'm lost on him, my little-"

From the room where the Butcher clones roamed, the Projectionist let out a screech.

Seems that Buddy and Norman made it… but the screaming didn't bode well.

"Norman!" Henry called out and headed back into the room, catching himself on the rail. Sammy caught up quickly and had his axe free.

Norman had Fisher in one hand, Piper swinging at his leg only to be kicked out of sight with a splattering on ink. Fisher's cord with pulled taught until it snapped, the body and head melting down into ink in moments. Striker was missing, save for the other puddle some feet from Norman's feet.

The Projectionist's cables writhed testily on his back, then relaxed and retracted as he calmed. He looked upwards at the railings and paused when he spotted the duo on the rails. His light dimmed, and he gave a slow wave.

Henry waved back, brows almost to his hairline. He looked over at Sammy with wide eyes. "Well, that was overkill."

"Er… yes. But it was effective." The ink man blinked and turned to something running across the floor below. "Ah. There he is!"

Henry looked up to find Buddy running full tilt their way, rounding the stairs with grin. He didn't slow down before grabbing Henry in a hug.

"Oof! Hey, Buddy!" The man hugged back. "Glad you're in one piece, too."

The wolf let Henry go and nodded, smiling before turning to look at Sammy. His smile widened, and he gave a thumbs up, then he pointed to Norman.

The Projectionist was still watching them, light glowing softly.

Buddy made a circle in front of his forehead with a fist, then opened that fist wide.

"Norman made it easier to see?"

A happy nod.

"Good." Henry patted the wolf on the arm, then smiled at Norman. "Do you want to stay down there or come up?"

Norman managed an offended sound and stomped his way up the stairs.

"Jeez, just thought I'd offer." But the cartoonist smiled all the same. "Now the hard part; shutting down Bertrum so that the haunted house works."

Sammy coughed. "Uh, why do we need to activate the haunted house?"

"The main room is where we meet Allison and Tom? We've… done this before?"

"I know that, but Susie was calling the shots. And with Buddy in one piece, we don't have to play by her rules."

Henry made a face and shrugged. "You wanna try prying the doors open, be my guest."

"Gladly. Norman? Follow me."

"We're going the same way, Sammy."

"Hush up." If he could get the Haunted House doors to open without waking Bertrum, then Henry wouldn't have to risk himself to shut the behemoth down. Coming back from the dead didn't lessen the pain it brought him.

Sadly, the doors to the Haunted House could not be forced open. Even with Norman pulling on one side and Buddy helping Sammy on the other, they didn't budge.

Sammy panted with hands on knees, inked fingers aching from the force he'd used. "Okay. That-didn't work. You-were-" He gasped and straightened up- "right about that."

"Time to play with Bertie," Henry groused as he turned for the hallway. This part was just so time-consuming, even with plenty of time ahead of him!

The ink man caught up with several long strides, axe out and ready, blade-down on one shoulder. "Bertie? You're on nickname terms with him?"

Henry glanced over at Sammy. "Well, don't tell him I called him that. He might think I'm Joey and go ballistic." The cartoonist huffed out a quiet laugh and rested a hand against Sammy's shoulder with a softer smile.

Sammy's frown broke to smirk back. "If the angry whirligig isn't ballistic now, what do you call that?"

"Tantrum. Maybe."

"A giant, metal tantrum. Angry eggbeater!"

Behind them, keeping some feet back, Norman tilted his projector at the two of them. He watched, only able to read their bodies, reels slowing in thought. Interesting… he then turned to Buddy.

The wolf looked up at the Projectionist and blinked in question.

He pointed at the two of them, then brought his hands together and clasped them. Not the flat palms to signify friendship, but laced fingers over his speaker.

Buddy's pie-cut eyes widened, then he shrugged with upturned palms. He then held up a gloved finger to pause a moment, and let the hand lay palm down, wobbling it in a simple gesture of 'Kinda? I'm not sure.' for the Projectionist.

The Projectionist hummed from his speaker and lumbered over to the doorway Buddy had come from. He grumbled static and tugged Buddy with a cable.

The four of them arrived, Henry already ready for what came next. "Everyone, get as far back as you can. Soon as he talks, he's awake and mad as hell."

"Now this part, I remember!" Sammy called out as he crept backwards from the desk. Buddy stepped back as well and pulled Norman along with him.

Just as they got out of the direct path of the rider cars, a pompous voice pontificated into the smokey room.

"The biggest park ever built, a centerfold of attractions. Each one, more grand than the one before it. It makes my eyes come to tears at the thought. But then... oh Mister Drew. For all your talk of dreams, you are the true architect behind so many nightmares. I built this park. It was to be a masterpiece! My masterpiece! And now you think you can just throw me out? Trample me to the dust and forget me? No! This is my park! My glory! You may think I've gone... But I'm still here!"

The ride's arms lifted, and music blared. The doors parted to reveal the gasping, overgrown head of Bertrum Piedmont. His mouth worked uselessly and eyes stared blindly as the cars slammed down. Steam erupted from seizing joints and pistons flared to life.

Henry ran for the axe under the desk debris and cried out, "Sammy! Go for the gears when the arms come down!"

"Remembered that part, too!" He cried back, axe free as he lunged for the nearest arm that slammed into the ground. Henry ran and made quick work of the gears on the arm closest to him.

Norman observed from where he'd stooped near a couple crates. That's all they had to do? He could help with that. Patting Buddy's head, the Projectionist lumbered to the arm that crashed down nearby.

"Sammy!" Henry called out as the arm he'd been working on lost its last gear and Bertrum hissed steam into the air. "Norm's helping!"

"He what?" He called back, then looked over at Norman who was punching the daylights out of an arm. "Oh."

Buddy hid behind a crate, watching over the top with wide eyes. He had no weapon to help with, and his fear kept him locked in place.

The arm Norman had been fighting with came loose and he fell to the floor. Sammy was able to get back from the angry whirligig in time, the arm he'd been after only hanging on with one gear-

Henry let out a yelp as the remaining two limbs slapped at the floor as if trying to crush a bug.

"Henry!" Sammy raced around the perimeter of the ride as Norman screeched at the arm swinging madly in the air. Ink and steam sprayed and hissed as the head inside of Bertrum choked and stared into space.

But when Sammy got to Henry, Henry wasn't on the ground.

A startled scream from the ride made Sammy look up… and his mouth fell open in shock.

Henry, by some stroke of bad luck, ended up in one of the ride cars. His ass was wedged in the seat and his legs stuck almost straight up.

The ink man gaped at the sight. How the hell did he manage that? "Hold on, we'll get you down!"

The arms came down again and Norman made a beeline for Henry, ignoring the arms as Sammy hacked the gears apart with grit teeth.

Norman planted a foot on the car Henry was stuck in and used both hands and his cables to pull him loose. Almost as hard as pulling a bad molar, but probably less… sticky.

The moment Henry was loosened and on the floor, the amalgam screeched and attacked the arm with all of his might, snapping the last gear and sending the third arm crashing down.

The ink man was tossed aside as the last arm swung above. Again and again, until it fell to the ground. Sammy let out a yell and shattered the last two gears on one side before he fell onto his back and lay still, gasping for breath at Bertrum Piedmont gasped once more… the doors slipped shut and the dreadful music ended.

Buddy stood from where he'd hidden, ears back as he headed for Henry. Norman had left him to lay somewhat out of arms reach, just staying flat and catching his breath.

The cartoonist stared up at Buddy. "'m good."

The Projectionist was busy poking at the remains of the ride curiously. What a strange device it had been… but kind of fun, oddly.

Sammy got to his booted feet and ran to where Henry was, amber eyes wide and aglow. "Henry!" He halted and bent to rest his hands on his knees. "Are you hurt?"

"Just… y'know. Everywhere. Room's still spinning and all that." Henry frowned up at the crouching ink man, heaving a breath and an arm slowly rising into the air. "Sammy."

The ink man took the hand and tugged to help Henry stand. "Yes?"

"When we go to Coney Island?" He cracked a smile and stared up at the ink man. "We're not getting on that one."

"Deal."

/