Vingt-cinq [Past laid bare and to rest.][trigger warnings: slur use, some sexism.]

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Never let it be said that life in the loops was strictly hand holding and shy kisses. Henry and Sammy never lost sight of their goal to set everyone free, even if they took moments to simply exist with the other. All the work put in made it even more worth it when a quiet moment came… and they had had far too much quiet in these last dozen loops since taking the next step together.

Susie had decided that, with Norman on their side and Buddy totally off the table, her game wasn't fun anymore. There was no humming in the toy room, no jingle with a jump scare, no threats and demands for parts… and absolutely no stealing of a friendly wolf.

Henry would open the doors to the Angel room, axe in hand and Sammy close by. The lights would stay off, the music wouldn't play, nothing but the same line over and again.

"Get out."

Henry wouldn't complain had it meant progress. But a dozen loops of being told the same thing did nothing to quell suspicion. Progress couldn't be made if Susie didn't do something other than hide in the dark. They weren't getting anywhere with the fragments–Sammy's name for the parsed parts of souls that fueled failed clones–and Sammy had had no flashbacks or restored body parts since Norman had joined up.

So. In Buddy's hideout, alone together, the musician and the cartoonist did what they always did when things weren't moving forward.

Talk.

"This is stupid."

"Mhm." Henry leaned back in the chair and stared up at the empty ceiling. The Bendy clock ticked on and the banjo, while out, was quiet. "If Susie refuses to work with us, we can't go forward."

Inked fingers drummed the neck of the banjo. "We could… capture her instead?"

A bewildered noise, and Henry's head lifted to shoot him an amused stare.

"No, hear me out. Norman could tie her up with his cables? Drag her behind him and force her to work with us."

"What's with you tying people up?" But he couldn't hide his tired laugh. "I dunno. I couldn't make progress with anyone by force."

"That why Allison's held up telling Tom anything?"

Henry shrugged. "She's scared he won't remember enough. Just like I was scared a few loops ago when you were reset to sacrifice me."

The ink man frowned crookedly. "True." He strummed out a muted B flat. "Maybe… I could try to speak with her."

"Doesn't she, uh…" How to say it nicely.

"Hate me? Yes. She does." An F floated softly in the air. "But… I have an inkling that she and I need to talk something over." He raised his amber eyes to Henry, head sinking into his shoulders. "I told you what she and I had done, yes?"

"Yeah." Henry groaned and stretched his arms over his head with a series of sharp pops. "You almost dissolved on the toy room floor when you remembered it."

"... that I did." He swallowed and his mouth drew tight. "I… I honestly believed that if I tried hard enough with the right woman? I'd be… well. Normal."

"Normal's a setting on a toaster. Are you a toaster?"

Sammy's startled laughter filled the hideout.

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"Get out."

Here they went again. "No." Henry cracked his neck and stared into the darkness. "I know you're angry, but this isn't gonna last."

"It lasts as long as I will it, errand boy."

"The longer you keep avoiding it, the less anyone will want to help you when we get free."

A hissed sigh in the dark. "What do you know?"

"Joey betrayed you, just like everyone else down here." He sighed out of his nose and stepped closer. "And while I can sympathize? You have no right to make it worse for others when we're trying to set them free."

A throat clearing at the doorway. "He's right, you know." Sammy braved the dark and joined Henry in the Angel room, back straight and head held high. No more fearing this woman, for any reason old or new. "You're holding fast to control you know you'll lose, eventually. Why delay when you've seen that we're getting close?" How close was still a mystery.

Silence. The lights clicked on to reveal the twisted angel leaning against the door to the dressing room. Head tilted back with a cool glare, she looked as much a fright as when she'd saunter down the hall to rip Buddy away. But… not quite. No smile, not even a smirk. Her bright eye glanced between the two men slowly, before she spoke. "Henry."

He dipped his head a little but didn't look away. He gave the axe in his grip a squeeze.

"Wait outside while your prophet and I have a talk, would you?"

"No, thanks."

She leaned off the wall and planted a hand to one hip. "I can assure you, we're just in need of a long overdue chat."

Henry glanced at Sammy.

His inked jaw was set, brows low and mouth drawn into a sharp frown. He held out a hand but didn't take his golden gaze off the angel. "Only if I may keep my axe."

She chuckled his way. "Whatever makes you feel better."

He felt the worn, wooden handle of the axe slide into his grip and a warm, calloused hand grasp his shoulder. "I'll be outside."

He nodded. "Get the door, please."

"Sure." But none of this settled right with Henry. Still… he already knew Sammy could handle himself if need be. He doubted Alice- Susie would try something as stupid as attacking in such a confined space… but if they needed their privacy, he'd give it. For a minute. He'd wait.

The damaged angel's posture relaxed with her frown, striding to the glass and back-lit in cool sepia. Her arms folded against the inner sill of the window. "So."

"So."

"... what exactly is your plan?" she drawled. "Think you can sweet talk me to your side of the glass?"

"No amount of honey could get you out here, and I know it. What I don't understand is why." The ink man's free hand tapped out a tango and his gold eyes wandered the room. "It took two hundred and seventy-five loops to realize Henry needed my help. Another few dozen for Allison to come around. The Projectionist only a dozen ago… but you." He growled out a sigh. "You've known for so long and still fight it? How can you be so adamant to refuse the way to freedom?"

That was the wrong phrasing, since her face melted into a twisted, silent snarl. "Refuse? Like you refused me?"

He blinked… and felt heat rush to his face. "Oh, for god's sake! Decades ago and you still hold a grudge!"

"Was I just a game to you, prophet?"

He pointed with a free hand, snarl lines marring the bridge of his nose. "You played games too! You slept with Joey after I ended our arrangement."

A haughty shake of the head. "Arrangement." A bitter laugh leaked from her ruined mouth. "Should have guessed I'd meant nothing."

... good god, was he truly that callous in those days? "Nothing? Susie, I cared about you. I wasn't good at showing it, but I did. But that care was only friendship. You sprang your date idea on me in front of half the music room!" Free hand over his heart and face pinched in pained confusion, Sammy's voice lowered, soft in the dark. "What was I supposed to do?"

Her sigh came from deep in her chest, the bass rattle of her undertone rumbling true. "If I knew, we might not be here."

"No, we wouldn't."

They were silent for a minute. Susie's good eye roved the ink man before her. A claw tapped the opposing elbow with a tight half-frown. "You say you cared about me, but all I really remember is a handsome man calling me worthless and fake."

The ink man hummed and held up a hand. "You hit me. Multiple times in front of a new hire. And you slept with Joey before we made our…" Did it count as a breakup if it hadn't been real to start with? "Breakup public." It would have to do.

"He cares and calls me worthless-"

Sammy frowned and took a step forward. "You screwed Joey while supposedly with me. No one told me to my face save for Norman, because he knew I wouldn't bite his head off! I didn't understand if you were ending the charade with a dramatic flair, or was I just that bad in bed! Of all ways to end something. You did it by screwing our boss!"

She snickered. "You did alright for a man light in his loafers."

Ha. She'd always been a queen of backhanded compliments. "And you… were lovely. Stunning and talented with such beauty in every note you sang..." His gaze remained on the floor, shoulders slumped. "That was the problem with asking me to date you. How could I tell you, one of the prettiest women to ever seek my attention, no?"

The angel sneered. "So you blame me?"

He winced. "As much as I blame myself. You think I didn't know you wanted more? I'm not blind."

"You should have said-"

"And you should have let it drop instead of telling everyone that you were the one to make the first move. Gossip got around, my hearing was sharp as hell, and you… cornered me."

She cooed and pouted, snarl lines wrinkling her nose. "Poor baby, the pretty lady wanted a date."

"You wanted to climb the ladder, and I wanted to protect myself! When I couldn't give you something real, you humiliated me!" His voice rose to a shout so sharp it made the damaged angel draw back. "Don't you understand? You could have been a sky-clad Vivien Leigh and I wouldn't have been able to love you."

Susie jumped up and leaned her palms on the sill, growling. "You should have said something other than yes then, Prophet!"

His mouth twitched in annoyance. "If I had, it'd be as bad as writing faggot on my forehead. You really were a shameless gossip."

Susie, not Malice, not Alice, frowned bitterly. "My brother was the same as you, but if you'd actually tried to enjoy it-"

"Oh, so you knowingly slept with me and got mad when you knew I didn't reciprocate." He couldn't. He'd tried. With her and so many others he had given it his all and fell painfully, brokenly short.

"My brother found a wife just fine. I was wrong about you, though. Truth hurts, doesn't it? You put us here, put me here. This face of mine is your fault." A dark claw trailed down the glass as she sneered. "Keep telling yourself it's my fault, false Prophet, but-"

Sammy slammed a hand to the glass and rumbled at her slowly, teeth bared. "I am not a prophet. And you are not an angel. We are two broken monsters struggling for freedom, and you are the one throwing things off time and again. Stop acting like you're not as guilty as I am."

The damaged angel stared and released a tired, annoyed sigh. "Then, Sammy Lawrence," Her good eye shut and that same side twitched. "There is nothing left to discuss." Her lights clicked off. "Just… get out of my domain and go play with your new savior."

Axe in one hand and shoulders hunched, Sammy turned on a heel and left the room, and Susie, in the dark. He kicked the door shut on the way out.

Henry's head snapped to the door, tossing the Bendy plush he'd been squeezing with little ceremony. By the look of the ink man's face, what happened in there hadn't been… pleasant. "You good?"

"As I can be." A quiet laugh. "She… let me have it."

"Okay?"

"But I don't… I don't think she'll be bothering us this go around." And if she did, he wouldn't hesitate to knock her down another peg. "But! I can blush, apparently! Or I have a fever, who knows at this point if it matters!"

Henry blinked. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Of course I'm sure. Why?"

Henry peered over his glasses, trouble lining around his eyes. "Because you're shaking."

He blinked. "Am I?" He lifted a hand up to see tremors in the limb. "Ah. Fantastic."

"Let's… go find Norman."

"Alright." The musician gripped Henry's nearest hand and tugged him on to the elevator. "This is my cure-all for shaking hands. That's fine by you though… right?"

Henry smirked at Sammy's back and gave the hand a squeeze. The tremors were already fading. "Right."

/

One good thing about the Susie issue? The four of them had getting to Bendy-Land down to a science.

Also, with Susie on the back burner until she came around on her own, the musician and cartoonist could focus on the newer issue; clone fragments.

Henry held up the rifle and took down a set of targets. "So. Have any new ideas about the fragmented souls?"

The ink man hurled a ball at the milk jugs with a grunt. "No idea. We don't even know how many there are."

Henry set the rifle down with a clack as the doors parted. "Well, there's the river hand with a mug on the wrist, Piper with a paintbrush, and the lost one banging his head when we head through the ventilation shaft."

"Still not sure how you managed that, my little sheep. Had no idea you were so flexible."

Henry chuckled. "Well, when we can figure out what an empty circle on someone's temple means, we'll be a step closer to finishing this."

The ink man nodded, sticking close. "True." Sammy's voice dipped low. "If Allison's theory is right, then Bertrum the angry whirligig may be just a fragment." A furious fragment.

"Like the river hand? Not a clone but… weird?"

Sammy smirked. "Exactly. Now then." He grabbed a soup can and hurled it at the Butcher clones circling below. "Time for levers."

"About that." Henry's voice was hushed as they headed down the stairs. "There's a lost one in the section I go to. I want a look at her, but she's… caged."

"Oh." The quiet regret churning under one word wasn't lost in the quiet.

"There's also a tape from a Lacie Benton."

"Never met her. Feel free to play it."

Henry didn't turn around as he entered the small room, brow furrowed at the weeping creature in the cage. "Still, be ready for it. You haven't remembered anything lately, and I don't want you to hurt yourself."

A flippant hand wave. "Play it. I'll live."

Henry clicked the button and waited.

"The only thing that works around here is my ulcer. Half these people don't know a wrench from a dang steamroller. Buncha morons is what they are. Spend their day in the warehouse arguin' over who's supposed to be doin' what or playing them silly games. Still, I'm not complainin'. I get most of my time to myself. Suits me just fine. Only thing that bothers me is that mechanical demon in the corner. Bertrum's been working on it for a month now. Says it will walk someday and maybe dance. All it does now is give me the creeps. I swear, when my back's turned, that thing's movin'."

A cursory look at Sammy told Henry that, yes, the automaton set his teeth on edge.

He pulled out the seeing tool and ushered Sammy to look.

A squint, and the ink man bent down a little to get a look.

IT NEVER MOVES.

"Mm. Good." He uttered a nervous chuckle before taking a step back. "Very good."

But Henry eyed the weeping lost one. "Hm..." Henry held up his seeing tool and gave her a thorough once over. Because of her position, he couldn't make anything out for her, save the wording on the floor asking her not to cry. No angle he could get from where he stood revealed anything useful. His mouth drew into a tight line and he glanced at Sammy. "Why is she in there, anyway?"

Sammy sighed at Henry's tone. "Heresy… I think." He frowned. "And before you ask, yes, I put her there."

Henry's brow furrowed. "Would letting her out be okay? I might get a better look at her this way."

"I don't see why not?" The ink man reached for the lever near to the cage, and the gate raised up into the wall above. With a sidestep, he held out his free hand to the open room. "Dear sheep, you may go. We forgive you for what has happened."

The lost one timidly glanced up at Sammy, then back down.

"Off you go," he prompted. He… wasn't sure how long he'd left her here. Or what brand of heresy she'd committed. If it was even heresy or if he simply was in a dark mood.

The lost one stumbled shakily to her feet, eyes aglow and glued to the floor. She gave Henry the briefest glance and limped out of view.

Sammy blinked after her and gave his hand a solid look over. Never let it be said he enjoyed hurting people...

Yet he tried to sacrifice the man before him the moment he had a chance.

Henry's brows shot up. "Oh! Okay. Good news, she has a marking. Looked like a wrench outline."

Sammy said nothing, still looking where she'd gone.

"Sammy?"

He shook his head, giving a pained smile. "Yes. Good find."

"Sammy." Henry replaced the tool with a step forward. "You've been off since you talked with Susie. If you need a breather, we can take one."

"Breather." His face pinched in a sneer. "Henry, you're far too forgiving."

The cartoonist squinted. "Are we talking about the same thing here?"

Sammy turned and headed to the other lever across the room. "Doubtful."

Henry sighed quietly before replacing the tool and following. "If it's about the lost one being locked up-"

"It is… and it's not." He pulled down the lever and turned for the stairs, shoulders hunched. "Honestly, the more of me I remember, the less of me I like. And that doesn't bode well for us on the other side."

"How so?" Henry followed, worry digging quivering fingers in his gut.

Sammy turned at the top of the stairs and looked down. Both hands clasped the rails with ticking fingertips.

Henry'd never seen Sammy so worked up.

"What if… I fear that… Henry. What if I fully remember and become myself as intended, but I'm such an ass you decide against being together?" He slumped backwards and pulled up his hands, palms up as they gesticulated limply. "I have been trying to become myself, Henry. But the more I learn, the more I want to… not be him. Be me." His brows furrowed over wide eyes. "What then?"

The cartoonist blinked, hazel eyes searching the floor for the words to put together for the man above him. Something to hold on to while they still worked through this sepia hell. "Do you remember when we first worked together? To escape, I mean." Henry took a step forward on the stairs.

"I do. Vaguely." It was some loops ago, and so many pieces had fallen back into place inside of him that the words they'd said were lost.

A nod. "I said, 'I miss my friend. I want him back.', and I meant it." Henry raised a hand in a one-armed shrug. "You had plenty of moments where you were an asshole. I can't say you weren't. But with your workload, your sensitive hearing, the fact that half the people who worked here were assholes right along with you? I saw a man dedicated to his work and protective of the few people he liked." He managed a sad smile. "And I was lucky to be one you liked."

Lucky. Sammy worked his jaw and blinked to clear his vision. "Well. You know just what to say, Henry."

"Just being honest."

The musician turned and finished climbing the stairs. "If I'm what you want-"

"You are. I'll take the real you any day."

The ink man smiled softly to himself. Maybe it was best that he got cut off. Let that bothersome train of thought die off and keep going as they had been.

Silently from her hiding place, far from prying eyes, a sullen angel watched the pair from her many hidden screens… and thought.

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