Henry was sitting on the cot again, and Sammy on the stool. He was still shaking, and he couldn't get the gruesome image of the twisted Bendy out of his head.
Sammy noticed, but he didn't want to push him for answers yet. The wounds had started to clot up finally, so they weren't bleeding as severely. They looked like they hurt though. He had the bandages on a different stool, along with the gauze wrap.
This time, Sammy has the peroxide in clear view. Henry eyes it. Then he looks at Sammy.
"Absolutely fucking not Lawrence." He forced out, still shaken.
"Henry come on. They might need stitches, and they need to be cleaned out. If the ink gets into them...I don't want to know what'll happen."
Henry nods his head no, looking like a kid that's been reprimanded.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Sammy asked quietly.
Henry drew in a shaky breath, then another. "Yeah. I'll try." But he still keeps his freshly wounded arm pulled in close to his chest.
"I dozed off I guess? After you wrapped this arm." He nodded his head towards his right arm. Sammy nodded in agreement.
"More like full on passed out." Sammy said, which earned him a small grin that quickly vanished as Henry continued.
"The only reason I woke up was because it felt like I hit the floor. But, I didn't. I wasn't even here anymore Sam. There was a.....thing there. It looked like Bendy, but wrong. Like something awful happened to him. That's what did this."
He lifted up the unwrapped arm, and sucked in a harsh breath as he did so. He held it out to Sammy. He stiffened when Sammy reached out for it.
"Don't touch it. Just look at it please." His hand was shaking.
"Okay. But it has to be done eventually, Hen. Also, that thing you saw? That was Bendy."
He reached out and grabbed Henry's arm, then gently set it down on his knee. He was about to let go of his hand when he saw the look on his friends face. It was an awful mix of horror and confusion.
"Bendy? But...that was different Sam. It-it didn't look like him." Sammy's hand tightened around his.
"I know. But it was." He tried to put on a lighter tone. "How about we talk about something different? Then we'll deal with the cuts, alright?"
"Alright." Henry responded bluntly, not looking forward to the peroxide. The first time had been bad enough, but now he had to suffer through it five more times. He lets go of Sammy's hand, and pulls his arm back off of Sammy's lap.
"Ask me some questions. I know you're curious Hen, you have that look on your face."
"What look?" In response, Sammy sighed. "Okay okay fine. Uh, how did your hands get all...ew."
"What these?" Sammy held up his hands and wiggled his fingers towards Henry threateningly. When Henry just rolled his eyes, Sammy dropped his hands.
"Killjoy." Sammy mocked Henry's words from earlier. "I'm actually not sure. They've just been like that. Any other clever questions you can think of right now?"
"No." In all actuality, Henry was a little eager to get the cuts taken care of, they were starting to sting and throb in time with his heart, and that was a little concerning. "Can we take care of the cuts now? They really hurt."
"That's what I've been sayin' the whole time. Give me a minute." Sammy wasn't looking forward to this reaction.
Henry tried not to look at Sammy while he poured the peroxide out - onto a ink stained towel this time - and failed. This was going to hurt.
"Okay Henry, give me your arm." Henry stretched it out. Sammy grabbed it, and looked it over, glad the Demon hadn't cut through any veins. "Just promise not to hit me, or scream or something."
Henry smiled, then gasped when Sammy put the peroxide covered towel on the first cut. Sammy keeps ahold of his hand though, and hates the feeling of it shaking in his own.
"Hey, when we're done with this, you'll be immune to pain won't ya?" He tries to make the other laugh, or even smile again, but stops when he hears Henry whimper in pain, a sound that doesn't suit him.
"Are you okay?" Sammy hates seeing any of his friends in pain.
"Can- can we do them all at once? It hurts too much to do them o-one at a time." He feels like his arm is on fire.
"Are you sure Henry? You might pass out again."
"If I do, slap me."
Sammy can tell by the dark look in his friends eyes that he isn't joking.
"Okay." Sammy covers the towel in the liquid again, and grabs Henry's hand tightly. "One, two, three."
The noise of absolute pain that he hears sends a pang of guilt through him hurts, but he doesn't remove the towel or let go of the hand, even as Henry tries to pull away. Sammy sits there holding the towel down until Henry suddenly tips over sideways. Sammy lifts his hand, and the towel falls in the process.
I told ya. Should I wake him up or? He decides to listen to Henry's earlier words. After all, he told him to slap him if he passed out.
"Okay Henry, don't get mad at me." With that, he leaned down and slaps his best friend across the face.
"Ow! What the- oh. I passed out again, didn't I?" Henry asked with a sheepish grin.
"Yes. You did." Sammy couldn't hide the grin when he saw the dazed look on Henry's face.
"And ya actually decided to slap me?" He hadn't expected Sammy to actually do it.
"Well you told me to. I need to wrap it now." He makes grabby hands towards his companion. "Give me your hand."
"How many times have ya said that Sammy?." Henry said while reaching the arm out, a streak of tiredness tinging his voice.
"A lot. Now hold still." Sammy wraps the arm in gauze, then in the bandages. He didn't draw anything on them this time. Because of the motion and peroxide on the cuts, they've started to bleed again. "If they don't stop bleeding, I'm gonna have to numb and stitch em up."
"You could've numbed it the whole time?!" All of the tiredness was gone. Now he was just upset.
"I didn't want to stick a needle in em if I didn't have to. Besides, you handled it fine."
Henry couldn't argue with that. The pure thought of putting a needle anywhere close to the cuts made him inwardly cringe.
"Fine. I guess that makes sense." He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. "What now?"
"Well, I think you should get some sleep." Sammy hadn't truly needed to sleep for some time now, and he had no idea what not sleeping would do to Henry.
Henry's eyes snapped open at Sammy's words; he looked scared.
"No. No, I-" he paused. "I don't think that's a good idea. The- the last time I fell asleep the Dem...the Demon got me. How did it do that Sammy? How did it do that?"
"Calm down, it was just a suggestion. You don't have to sleep if ya don't want to. About how the Demon did that, I think it traveled through the inkwell I had sitting here." He pointed at the empty container, which was now sitting on the floor by his feet.
Henry still backed away - or tried to, he was already against the wall - as though the thing was going to attack him. Seeing the look of terror that flashed across Henry's face, Sammy quickly spoke.
"It's empty now! Don't worry about the thing." I really need to be more careful with what I say to him right now.
Henry visibly relaxed at that, although a bit slowly. He let out a breath. "Sorry. Can we talk about other things?"
"Like what 'other things'?" He didn't know where this was headed.
"Like, have you looked in a mirror recently? The ink is on your face." It looked a little gross if he was being honest.
Sammy blinked. He hadn't actually seen himself for a long time.
"No, actually. I haven't." He sat still, wondering what he looked like. Am I the same? Or am I a twisted thing like Alice? If I am then he probably would have said something.
When Henry spoke, it was quietly. "Do you know how much ink is on your face?"
"No." He actually didn't.
"Oh. Well, I don't actually have a mirror, but uh..." He trailed off, then raised his right hand. "Can I show you by touching where it is? Just on your face."
"Sure?" But Sammy drew back when Henry reached out towards him. "Sorry, I just- I'm not sure I want to know is all."
He looked up at Henry, who had his hand still slightly stretched out, a sympathetic look on his face. Sammy sighed. Henry's face suddenly lit up, and he let out a harsh laugh.
"I'm in idiot. Don't you dare agree with that Sammy Lawrence, or I won't tell you what I thought of."
"Fine, fine." Sammy raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Here," Henry took his glasses of and held them out to Sammy. "See if you can see your reflection." I can't see a damn thing.
Sammy took them, and hesitantly looked at his reflection. He actually looked about the same. Same bony angles and light eyes. But there was now ink covering half of his face. He reached up and touched it. The ink on his face melted together with the ink on his hands.
He pulled his hand away harshly, and stuck Henry's glasses back out towards him. As Henry put them back on, Sammy asked a question.
"Can you touch the ink? I guess I should've checked before taking care of the cuts." Damn why didn't he think a that?
"I dunno. I mean I guess since I'm not covered with it. My clothes are, but not me." He reached out and poked Sammy's face, the part with the ink covering it. When he pulled his hand back, none of the ink was covering it.
"See?" He smiled, then shook his hand back and forth slowly, like he was trying to get Sammy to understand. That, and the older cut still hurt a little.
Sammy was surprised at the sudden gesture, and the warm spot it left on his face. He hasn't actually felt anything for a while, until Henry entered the picture. He hadn't actually felt or seen another actual person in ages.
So the warm sensation of a living person was a little unnerving, because it meant that it could be gone just as quickly; and all that would be left would be cold ink. But it was also...nice. It meant he wasn't alone in this nightmare anymore.
He must've looked pretty baffled, because he heard badly hushed giggles coming from in front of him. He's not gonna stop laughing for a while now. When Henry got like this, he would laugh at whatever he saw.
That something right now was Sammy. He'd started to smile too, but Henry still found the startled expression unnecessarily funny. At this point it was full on laughs, and Sammy was trying to rein in the chaos.
"Okay, it wasn't that funny." At least Sammy didn't think so.
In response, Henry just pokes him in the face again, and launches into another giggle fest. Sammy's used to these kind of situations, however, and knows how to handle it. He picks the pillow up off of the cot and throws it at Henry's face, knowing Henry can't stop it due to his injuries.
"Are you done yet?" Sammy's still smiling, despite being slightly annoyed.
"Y-yeah." Henry stutters, this time from amused laughter. "I'm done." He was still smiling.
Giggly bastard. But still, Sammy appreciated the sound. He looks back over at Henry, who's finally quieted down and is trying to catch his breath. Big mistake. Sammy glances at the clock, which - if it's even right - reads eleven thirty. It was daytime earlier, so now it must be dark out. The giggles are starting up again when Sammy decides to speak.
"How 'bout you get some sleep? It's eleven thirty at night after all." The giggles stop immediately, replaced with a sharp inhale. "I know what happened the last time you fell asleep, but this time I'll stay here. I promise.
He was honestly too scared himself to leave.
"I'll make sure there aren't any full inkwells around too if that'll help." That seemed to relax his companion, who nodded in response before speaking.
"What about the ink splotches?" It was a genuine question.
"Oh, they're fine. They dried up forever ago." At least they should be alright.
"Okay."
Sammy got up to look for inkwells, and Henry started to as well.
"No, Henry stay there. You're gonna make your cuts bleed again."
"Fiiine." He felt so useless sitting there as Sammy walked around the room.
"All checked and accounted for." Sammy declared, walking back over to the cot next to Henry's and sitting down. "Are you okay now?" The words weren't said harshly, and that helped a little with the anxious thoughts Henry was having.
"Yeah. It makes it better." He sure sounded tired.
Sammy lied down, thinking that if he did so, Henry would too. He looked over and saw that he was right.
He didn't actually need sleep, so when he heard the sound of a blanket being pulled up, he realized that he didn't really have anything to do if Henry actually went to sleep. He hadn't thought that far ahead yet.
He didn't think he would survive putting the peroxide on his friends arm, so after that victory, he hadn't thought about anything else. He supposed he could always write up some new music sheets. Oh right. No ink. Sammy sighed, then remembered there was someone else in the room.
Luckily, the other hadn't heard him, and didn't stir. Sammy had the urge to get up and pace, a habit he'd always possessed, but decided against it. For now, he just lied on his back and listened to the noises of the studio.
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. Joey was glad the toys were getting along so well. He'd just told Bendy not to kill the new one yet because he was curious as to what the Demon would do. It turned out the Demon could be controlled after all. Good.
Even though he was eager to get the show moving, he decided it was still just a bit too early to introduce a certain angel. Let them have their fun now, but when the Demon returns, he will be the one laughing.
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