Just a Happy Ending

In The Dark

Buddy and Allison were playing a game of cards in the Lost Harbor. Sammy had appeared a few days earlier, carrying an unconscious Henry. The Lost Ones, still assuming Sammy was the Prophet despite his adamant insistence that he wasn't, were eager to assist their "Prophet" and "Creator." Things had settled easily, and the group found themselves welcomed among the Lost.

The peaceful card game was interrupted when Henry came storming around the back side of a building, Norman following him.

"Henry, could you just- keep your head on for two seconds-"

Henry wheeled on him, "Oh, you're one to talk! I just pulled the very life force out of a body and you expect me to 'keep my head'!?"

Allison set down her deck, "Henry?" she asked, not raising her voice.

"Sometimes I think it was better when the Demon tore your head off!" Henry yelled, turning away, "It did a better job of shutting you up!" He stormed off toward the river.

Norman was left standing there, looking hurt. Allison and Buddy went over to him.

"Norman? What happened?" Allison asked.

"He-... I..." Norman sighed and shook his head. "Find Sammy and Tom, we need to- talk. All of us."

The gathered inkling and toons congregated under an awning. 

Sammy tented his fingers. "He pulled... the soul... out of a Lost One?"

"Yeah. An' then the ink reclaimed it."

"Why is he mad at you?" Allison asked.

"I told him it wasn't- a big deal. That the Lost weren't really alive." Norman's arms crossed, "He took that somethin' personal, for some reason."

Allison tilted her head toward him, "Well, did you ask?"

"...No," said Norman, glancing away.

Several beats of silence passed as everyone tried to figure out what to do.

"Should I go try and talk to him?" Sammy suggested.

Norman waved him away, "No, I'll go. Need to do this properly." He left the others in search of Henry.

It didn't take long to find him. The Harbor was small and Henry tended to go to one spot at the edge of the river when he needed to think. Norman spotted Henry staring into the ink river.

The man was holding something, but when he caught sight of Norman, he tensed up and tossed the object into the river. He turned away when Norman sat beside him.

"I know what I said, and I wanna know why it's wrong."

"What, so you can insult me some more?" Henry snipped bitterly.

"No, I-... I just know we-... there's not-..."

Henry scoffed, "Speaker for a mouth and you still get tongue-tied."

"I- didn't mean to insult you, Henry," Norman said, "I just... don't know what I did wrong. Please, help me figure- it out so I can apologize."

Henry glanced at him from the corner of his eye. He then looked away and swallowed hard. "The Lost are alive, Norman. They sense, they think, they feel. That soul in my hands, even if it was just a part of their whole, they were screaming. Screaming to be let out, begging me to set them free, but I couldn't! I couldn't keep the ink from reclaiming them." His head hung, "These are people, Norman! Stuck in in this torture that they can't get out of!"