The Archives [a BATIM Fanfiction]

Joey Drew

Well i'm going to free you now..!

Joey snickered to himself, gliding his fountain pen across the light yellow paper. He sighed, staring at the small, wondrous panel in front of him. He liked this comic!
So far, it was... fairly good! I mean, he was five chapters in. Henry made a good muse!
Henry... Henry... oh no-

Joey quickly threw himself from his chair, stumbling over his bad leg. It was a mistake to think he was still as fragile as he was years ago.
He was like, what, 40 now?
Eh.

Joey brushed off some dandruff on his shirt and washed his ink stained hands. He spent a few minutes looking for his damned jacket and stumbling over furniture for his shoes before really getting anywhere. He scooped up a stack of pages, clipped them together, then rushed out of the house with his keys.

Down town, at a small coffee and sandwich shop, sat a lonely brunette tapping his fingers. He softly hummed a familiar tune to himself, one that sounded from a cartoon in the 1900's. He watched as as black haired male came stumbling down the street toward him. He paused; he had a wide smile on his face.
"Henry!" Joey said with joy. Henry grinned.
"It's nice to see ya, old pal."
The two hugged, then sat down at the outside table.
Joey sighed. "How's Linda?"
Henry shrugged, looking around the street. It was very quiet downtown. It was surprising.
"She's alright. Very skittish with me still. Poor girl went through a lot of trauma in her old house." Henry frowned, "Good kid, though. She has lots of ideas... lots of artistic talent... like you."
"Still miss me?" Joey grinned slightly. Henry laughed, then slapped his shoulder from across the table.
"In your dreams," He responded.
"I have many of those," Joey winked, "Speaking! Of which! Here- you said you wanted to see 'em, right?" He placed down the stack of papers gently, sliding them to Henry. Henry's eyes went wide.
"You- made all of those? Wow.."

"You're the main character, too!" The raven smiled. "I couldn't stop thinking about- back to the studio, fifteen years ago. I know it happened to me, I knew it. No one believed me.
"But- hey! It's in comic form! Flip to the next few pages! C'mon!"

Henry stared down at the paper, scanning over it quickly before flipping it. He stared. "Is that - oh my god, Sammy?" Henry snorted.
"Yup!" Joey laughed, "I can't wait to show him that, too! Ah, he'll slit my neck." Joey smirked, staring off, "Good times. Good times."
"What's this- other stuff you've talked about? Being in a loop?"
"Ah! Yeah! You see-" Joey leaned in to Henry, who copied his movements and leaned forward as well.

"Fifteen years ago- right?- when I just closed the studio- I was boarding up everything. Then- I saw something I'd thought that I've killed. I had to have killed it. It couldn't be alive!"
Henry squinted his eyes, "What was 'it'?"
Joey smiled awkwardly, then pointed at the horrifying drawing of Bendy on the page before Henry.
"Him," Joey hissed, "Bendy. Exactly like that! He attacked me! Then I passed out, and everything you've read happened to me. Everything. It- Honestly, was like a long fever dream!"
"Joey." Henry laughed, "Are you sure you didn't hit your head a few times back when we -"
Joey's face reddened, but he kept the same serious look."No! No! Besides, your head was closer to the headboard," He snickered, "I'm just- I know it happened. And the only way for me to get it out there is either write a horror novel or make a comic. You know I'm shit at writing! I had a whole department for it! So I went with comics. Do you like it?"
Henry smiled softly, "Joey, I....

I...

Henry shook his head, rubbing his hair. He stared longingly at the foggy mirror. The horns didn't seem to be attached to him, but they... they were cool to him.
Henry glanced around the small bathroom, staring at stalls and scanning walls slowly. He could see writing. Gold writing.
Most of it said "Have I been here before?" Or "Yea!" and more of "This is weird,"
He laughed. Silly ink people and their messages to each other.
There was one door that hung open loosely on its hinge. Henry gently pushed it open, then watched it fall. Above the toilet gold said, "Joey and I were in here once," Then another strand, "Nasty"
Henry giggled to himself.

He looked down at the broken door, wanting to fix the poor thing. It probably broke from... well... Henry would rather not think about what happened in that stall.
Henry stared at it. There was.. gold on it. That wasn't there before?
Henry reached down and gently grabbed the door. He rubbed his thumb on one side, then looked back to see that his finger at left a gold smudge.
He...
He can write with gold?
Something felt.. wrong.
Henry dropped the door. It landed on his foot, making him gasp and jump back in both pain and regret. He then looked at his hands...
Was he the one who had written all these messages? All this time..?
Am I missing something?
How did he not remember that?
Hello..? What's... who...
It seemed like a key detail!

Think Henry, think...!

Henry closed his eyes tightly, squeezing his head. He backed into a wall, trying to remember. Trying to think why there was an empty gap in his head. What was he missing? What was so important about the gold ink?!

Then he fell backwards.

Henry yelled as he crashed into the studio floor. He opened his eyes. The man was.. back on the first floor? Oh, sweet merciful Bendy! He was back!-
Henry watched a dark haired man slowly walk through him. What?

The man seemed to adjust a tie, then fix his posture. He smoothed back his hair, adjusted his sleeves. All the sorts of things a nervous person does.
Henry's eyes squinted. Who are you?

The man turned, taking off his jacket and letting it fall behind him.
His face.. was familiar.
And his voice...
his stance...

"Joey?"

The man, 'Joey', blinked, staring at Henry. Henry blinked back.
He didn't say anything for a long moment.
"You know, you sorta screwed over my story, dear friend." Joey said with a painfully fake smile. "I thought I had my own story memorized by now! But, look at you! That isn't my design at all! This isn't how the story was supposed to end! In fact I... don't even remember if the ending was every truly right or not."

Henry stood up slowly, walking to Joey. "What?"
"You know!" Joey smiled, holding out a hand for Henry.
"I don't," Henry replied quietly, reaching his hand outwards.
Joey sighed, then looked up at Henry with a... real expression. A genuine, real expression. One of utter pain, regret, sorrow, and love.

"You do know, Henry," Jo spoke as he raised his hand, placing his palm on Henry's entire face. Henry's eyes went wide, then turned gold.
"You were always better at finding ways to end the story...

"You should already know how to kill your little devil darlin'.

"You've just gotta remember how to end the story I...  we made..."