Trente [Get out the way of me.]

/

The puddle with a hat that bubbled by the dock was a strangely welcome sight. Good to know Jack could keep his word!

Allison was less than impressed. "So… this is the hand piece?"

Sammy gave a nod. "Seems so. He has the marking."

"Is… there a reason he's so… melted?" Her tone on the last word upticked in concern.

"He can hear you," Sammy muttered before heading to the boat.

Her brows furrowed, but she smiled down at the lump now looking up at her. "Hi, Jack. I'm Allison."

Jack gargled at Allison and tipped his hat her way before following Sammy with a sloshing roll forward.

Henry was close behind. He figured if they went in first with Jack ready to go, the hand wouldn't waste time on the other boat. It never seemed to go for Tom and Allison, just whatever boat he was in.

And, no. No one would be throwing Jack.

Sammy steered out into the tunnels, bright eyes searching the depths for movement. For all he knew, the hand broke its path when they got Jack this close to it. If the sunken boat still half-submerged meant anything. The hand usually dragged it under when he and Henry got close.

Movement from the left. Faint, but steady. A rolling wave of blackness slowly slunk toward the left of the boat. It came to a stop and flung itself upwards with a spread, stained glove open to the air above.

Norman's speaker hissed at the sight, and he turned his attention to the paddle wheel. Sammy grabbed Henry's close arm and pulled him away from the hand's path. Eyes on the hand, he murmured. "Jack. That's for you." He glanced to Jack… who was playing pancake on the floor of the boat. "Jack-"

The hand's wrist bent and the fingers twirled over the boat like a curious child trying to pick witch candy to pilfer first. But the hand did not slap down onto them, nor did it slink back into the darkness. It instead unfurled a single, battered finger and pointed at the searcher… before delicately tapping the hat with its little finger.

Jack, the ink pancake in a hat, rose slightly at that. He let out a low grumble and reached out with a flipper curiously.

Sammy pushed Henry behind him slightly, ready if the hand lashed out or change its mind.

But the moment the hand and flipper touched, both of them collapsed, the hand crashing down to send a spinning wave of ink into the boat. The arm and wrist sank down and melted away as gallons of ink sloshed and swirled in the boat's bottom.

Cold ink wrapped around Henry's ankles and filled his shoes. A sensation he loathed but was more than used to by now. Arms raised in alarm, he glanced to Sammy. "You alright?"

"Yes." Despite the sour look he shot the ink in the boat.

"Norman, are you-"

Norman was smacking the paddle wheel at a rapid rate.

"Okay, he's fine."

"G-oh!" Sammy cut off mid-word to give the ink creeping up his left leg some focus. "Please be Jack and not something else."

"Who else could it be?"

The ink man blinked. "Several angry fingers detached from the hand? Mini ink demons? My mother?"

"Why would-"

The ink on his leg peeled back to reveal a far more solid flipper. It patted the leg and withdrew.

From the ink, a felted hat popped up, clean as a whistle. Jack emerged soon after, looking less the melted puddle and more like a typical searcher… but with a nice hat!

Henry smiled down at Jack. "Well? Feeling okay?"

The searcher grumbled and nodded.

"Good."

Sammy turned to the other boat, leaning on the edge to cry out, "It worked!"

Allison called back with a faint laugh. "We know! We watched!"

Sammy huffed and shook his head. "Of course."

Norman had gotten the paddle wheel unstuck and churning away, then turned to find the lump named Jack was… less of a lump.

Jack looked up into the sepia light and cocked his head.

The projector tilted, and the two ended up waving at each other, unsure but alright.

Henry peered at the grinning ink man and smiled wider. Bertrum was the last one to tackle, but if the river hand had been this smooth of sailing, how bad could the angry eggbeater be?

\

Bertrum was apparently the most stubborn bastard in this place, if it was taking this long to figure out who his lost one was. Ten loops since getting Jack in one piece, and this was where they'd ended up; nowhere.

It shouldn't have been this hard. They were running out of options. The lost ones who had been matched up stayed out of their way, but there were still so many to sort through. So much work left to track.

Thankfully, Henry came up with this plan, and Sammy couldn't be more pleased by it. No throwing anybody.

Who or whatever Henry touched gained his marks from golden ink. So, Henry attempted to touch every searcher and lost one he could. Some were even glad to touch him first. Some had the idea to ruffle his hair, of all things! Funny as it was, Sammy wasn't a fan of that.

Far as he was concerned, he was the only one to do that. Never mind Norman doing it; Norman pet everyone, save for Tom.

In the lounge where lost ones huddled, Sammy figured out their missing fragment. Held in the arms of a certain lost one who had only some loops ago regained her memories… and all of her fingers.

"Lacie."

The lost one holding the other winced.

"Let me see his face."

"Why? You got plenty of lost ones to look at."

"You and he are all that's left."

"Don't want ya hurting him." Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "After how you were with me, what's stopping you from trying that same shit on him? Nothing."

Sammy stepped forward and glowered. "You are holding up freedom for ourselves and you. I can't let this continue."

Henry, having gotten free of the lost one who'd been fluffing his hair a moment ago, gave him a look over his glasses. "You know we can't force this kinda thing."

"We're running out of time."

Henry reached out and rubbed Sammy's arm with the back of his knuckles. "We're not. I promise."

Sammy's jaw worked, and he turned, sighing loudly. "Fine. You have fun with this one, then." He strode out of the lounge, the watching lost one's parting from his path.

Sammy may not have been the mad prophet anymore, but that didn't take his sharpness, his bite. They knew better than to cross him, even now. He was the shepherd to their flock, but his calmness and gentleness lasted only to get what he needed. They knew better. They kept back.

"Is that better?" the cartoonist asked.

"... barely." But her gaze lost its edge.

"I'm sorry we were rough with you."

"Mm."

"Is there… another reason you don't want to let him go?"

She blinked slowly and stroked the back of the one she helds head. "It was a nightmare to come back. I don't know what happened to him, but he ain't himself. I want him better, but your way ain't gentle. He needs gentle."

"I don't want to hurt anyone. I never have. You can… you can come with us if he has the marking? Make sure he's safe." He smiled. "He trusts you from what I see."

She blinked. "...you mean that?"

"I do. Come with us, both of you. That way you can keep him safe."

She looked down at the lost one in her arms and slowly pushed him away. "Hey now, darlin'. I need you to talk to this guy a minute. I won't let you be, but just let him get a look, okay?"

The lost one sniffed and turned painfully slow to Henry. He saw his face and flinched back. "Ah!" The lost one covered his face and recoiled. "Don't hurt me!"

Henry reached back for the seeing tool and smiled calmly. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Just need to get a look at you, okay?"

A gold eye showed between cracked fingers. "Promise?"

"Promise." He glanced at Lacie. "And I think your friend here would let me have it if I tried."

"Damn right," she grumbled.

"... okay." The lost one pulled his hands away and held still, eyes focused and wary.

Slowly, careful not to startle him so quickly after gaining his trust, Henry raised the tool.

There on the lost ones forehead was an outline of a balloon, curly string and all.

"There we go. You're who we were looking for." He tucked the tool away and stood. "Just wait here while I talk to Sammy, okay?"

But the poor thing was already back in Lacie's arms.

Henry stood with a grunt as his back made an angry crackling noise, then walked over to Sammy. The ink man had taken out his banjo and was quietly plucking it and tuning it. He looked up when Henry drew close.

"Any luck?"

"It's him. They'll work with us if they can both go to Bendy-Land."

A blink. "That easy?"

A nod. "Yeah."

"...my little sheep, the diplomat."

Henry chuckled and felt his face warm. "Now to get them into the vent."

Sammy hummed, a curled hand to his mouth. "That is tricky."

"I can go first, then Bertrum. Lacie can be a buffer between you and him."

"Mm. I scare him that bad, eh?"

A shrug. "You'd have to ask him."

"I'd rather not."

A gruff, female voice growled from nearby. "Good. That ain't happening."

Sammy's brow scrunched. "Excuse me?"

Lacie glared hard his way. "No way in hell are you taking us to Bendy-Land. You never mentioned Bendy-Land as where we gotta go. I know what goes one in there. Heard it plenty o' times! Hearin' his voice through the walls screamin' how he's still here. You ain't puttin' him near some mechanical monster when he's already broken up as is."

The ink man growled and strode forward, eyes glowing with hellfire. He was only stopped by Bertrum's lost one speaking up.

"Lacie?"

"Hey, darlin'." Her gruff tone softened to an almost purr. "It's fine. Don't worry."

The lost one patted her shoulder. "Lacie. I wanna go home."

She sighed. "I know you do-"

"We all wanna go home." He pulled away from her and tensed. "Prophet?" the lost one asked timidly as he turned to at most face Sammy's way.

The wrath that had boiled inside his rib cage faded, and the ink man felt his face smooth as he calmed himself. "Yes, dear sheep?"

"... if I go, will we go home?"

He blinked, smiling calmly. "Yes. It might not be right away. But we will all get to go home."

"... okay." The lost one sniffed and pulled himself from the other's grasp. He stood on trembling, crooked legs. "I-I'm scared, but… we're all scared. I wanna go home, Lacie." He sighed and reached down to the stunned lost one still sitting on the floor. "Don't you?"

She blinked at his hand, then scoffed. "You're my home, darlin'." But she grasped the inky hand and was pulled to her feet. Her gruffness returned as she focused on Henry. "So, you had an order for us to go in?"

"Yeah." Henry walked to the vent and pried it loose. "Have your friend go in after me, then you after him."

"Sounds fine."

/

Bertrum's lost one was curious when in the giant Bendy-head, poring over the blueprints and designs with an eagerness one found only in children at a pet store. He never let go of Lacie's hand, eyes wide as he pointed at some better drawings with his free one.

"I know these." He pointed to the bigger ones on the walls, almost smiling. "I made these. They were… I don't know."

"Colossal wonders. That's what you called them." Henry peered at the two lost ones over the table.

"Speaking of, we'll need this." Sammy plucked the tape from where it sat and tucked it into a pocket. He'd caught on after the first few Bertrum fights that the voice in the room wasn't a tape, but coming from the octopus ride itself.

"What is that?"

"Your tape. Like I said, we'll need it."

"I'll take it."

The musician blinked. "It's fine."

"You've got the axe. Again. Lemme have the tape."

He sighed, shook his head, fighting a smile as he passed the tape over to Henry's waiting hand. "Fine, fine." Sammy cleared his throat and turned to the stairs. "This way."

The games were almost second nature, easily defeated and simple when understood. The doors to deeper into the park creaked open, and Susie remained silent from wherever she hid. Even without the Butcher clones milling about, the twisted angel had no interest in interacting with anyone.

Buddy and Norman were waiting down below where the Butcher clones used to be. The wolf eagerly waved, and the Projectionist's light lit brightly at the newcomers with Sammy and Henry.

"No. No way in hell." Lacie stepped in front of Bertrum. "That Projectionist'll rip us in half!"

Henry shook his head. "No, he won't. He's not like that anymore. He hasn't been like that in a long time."

"That why he chased that boy, Shawn? Heard anything about that?" She glared hard enough that the cartoonist drew back.

Sammy scoffed and waved her off. "Shawn panicked. Norman was looking for us, not him."

"Likely story."

"I don't need you to believe me, my dear." He thumped down the stairs and waved to the amalgam. As soon as Norman looked his way, he said, "They don't have mouths, so don't mind them. But we have a plan for what to do. So, Norman-"

Lacie growled out, "Excuse me?" She huffed and looked back at Henry. "He always that rude?"

But her companion patted her arm. "It's okay. He's looking at the Prophet and nothing's happened. He's with that wolf and nothing's happened." He grabbed her arm and tugged. "We need to do this so we can go home."

"It's okay to be scared," Henry muttered. "I still get scared of the things inside this place."

The lost one blinked. "You do?"

"Yeah. But it helps to have a friend." He smiled at Sammy down below before joining him on the lower floor.

"Ah, there you are, my little sheep. I was just telling Norman and Buddy what our plan was."

"About that."

An inked hand raised to placate. "I can assure you, I will throw no one. But! Norman and Buddy will handle the switches while we handle Bertrum. That should save us time and ink demon encounters."

"Huh. Sounds good."

The two lost ones came down the stairs, following close behind the two men as they once more split up.

It was one of those times where Henry firmly believed that things were going almost too well.

The cartoonist turned to the two lost ones, Sammy entering the room that held the angry theme park ride.

"Alright. You two need to stay as far away from the ride as you can until we can get him down to one arm. He'll still be awake, but he won't be as dangerous."

Lacie grabbed the lost one tightly. "Fine. You just don't do anything stupid."

Sammy called over his shoulder as he entered, "Wouldn't dream of it!"

Henry shot the pair a tired smile, taking his place behind the desk. From all around yet right ahead, the speech that preceded a nightmare of a fight played.

"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!"

A clanging, deafening growl of metal as the ride sprang to life. The head popped into view and gaped, eyes lifeless and staring as the arms of the ride crashed down.

"Go left!" Sammy called as he bolted for the arm on the right.

Henry scooped up the axe that'd been loosed from the broken desk and did as told.

But he misjudged. Badly.

"Henry!"

He turned just in time for the car on an arm to slam into him full force and fling him into darkness. There was no riding the thing this time.

Dark.

The tunnel was still as dark and empty as ever. He'd almost forgotten how it felt. The sepia light at the end hadn't changed. Sighing at his mistake, Henry charged for the light and-

-came to on his back, ears ringing. Someone droned on in the background. He glimpsed Sammy running to him, only to be stopped by an arm in his path. The ink man swung the axe with bared teeth and wide eyes.

But Henry was focused on the voice.

"-ever-tactless Joey Drew introduces me, the great Bertrum Piedmont, as Bertie! Like I was his child. You may be paying me, Mister Drew! But you don't own me! I'll build you a park bigger than anything YOU could ever possibly conceive! But before you go taking any bows, Mister Drew, know that this grand achievement will belong to me... and to me alone."

The ride slowed. The music cut off completely. The cars wobbled on hinges and the arms trembled from being held aloft where they were. But everyone's focus fell to the head. It gasped for air it didn't use and blinked. Almost alive, almost bewildered.

The cartoonist stood up, dizzied from having been back in the tunnel after so long.

"... Bertie?"

Henry looked over, swallowing at the timid, bitter voice.

The lost one standing tall and eyes wide. It stumbled forward, staring in horror at the head in the ride.

The head looked back, jaw wide and deeper than hell.

"My name's not… it's not Bertie! I'm not a child! I'm… I'm Bertrum!" his hands balled into fists and he took off in a sprint. "So is he! He's me! He's me!" The lost one screamed at the top of his lungs and clamored up onto the ride before dragging himself into the giant head's open mouth and disappearing down the gullet.

The arms of the ride rose as high as they could and fell with a hissing thump. The lights died out, the music stopped mid-note, and the room fell silent and still. Too still.

Sammy gaped. "Shit." But his focus was back to Henry. "Henry!"

A groan from the ride, and every soul in the room turned to it.

The doors popped open with a lifeless clank as waves of thick, greasy ink rolled out. The giant, gasping head was completely gone, and in its place was a quivering lump on the dias. Then it twitched.

Lacie took a step. "Bertrum?"

The lump flung itself upwards and gasped. "L-Lacie!" Bertrum tumbled off the platform onto the ground with a wet smack, but that didn't stop him. "Lacie!" He ran for her and grabbed her in a hug that swept her off her feet. "Lacie!"

"I got ya, darlin'." She hugged him back, eyes shut with relief.

"I'm alive, Lacie." He pulled away and cupped her face with both hands. "So are you. We… we can…" but he blinked hard and turned to the two men behind him. "You two."

"Hello." Henry waved. "How are you feeling, Mister Piedmont?"

He scoffed. "More myself than ever, I think." He pointed at Sammy. "You were smart to bring that tape with you, you know."

The ink man preened. "Why, thank you."

"I should be the one thanking you. Prophet and Savior."

Henry grimaced. That… felt wrong. How could he be a savior if he didn't know what he was doing?

The ink man gave a nod. "Yes, well. You were a piece to this puzzle of a place."

"Indeed, I was… but, Lacie…" Bertrum turned to her and grasped her hand softly, eyes brighter than the sun. "Of all things I forgot… you weren't one of them. I always remembered you."

"Aw, shucks." But she gave a gruff chuckle at him. "You need anything else from me and Bertrum?"

"That will be all."

"Good. I'm sick o' lookin' at you." Lacie tugged Bertrum's hand, and the two left the room. The mechanical beast that had housed half of Bertrum Piedmont smoldered quietly in the background.

"Well…" Henry chuckled and bumped Sammy with his elbow. "I guess Bertrum has a type."

The musician laughed quietly. "Hell of a type to have!"

"I don't know. I can see the appeal." He peered at Sammy from the corner of his eye. "Do you have a type?"

"You are my type, little sheep."

"What's that mean, though?"

Sammy grabbed his hand and headed away from the dead octopus. "Oh, let me count the ways."

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