Just a Happy Ending

Shower Thoughts

Hot, clear water ran over Henry's skin, four years of ink and grime washing away as he stood under the shower head. The ink on his hands thinned and ran, exposing patches of red and purple skin. He rubbed the rest of the ink away and carefully inspected his hands.

His joints ached horribly. Red seams like cracked glass etched across his fingers all the way down to his wrists. Bruises discolored his fingers and palms. The veins on the backs of his hands were swollen and seemed to have a hint of yellow. His hands didn't shake, thankfully. Maybe he'd still be able to hold a pencil after he healed.

Henry's sore fingers gingerly brushed up his arm and across his chest. His hands wouldn't be the only thing needing to heal. A scar sat over his heart in the shape of four fingers with a slash through the palm, a reminder of the soul Bendy broke.

But that was far from the only scar. Every wound ever received and ever healed was left behind. There was no difference in the texture of his skin, yet the scars were there, faint and numerous, a macabre camouflage across the whole of Henry's body. Visible but intangible echoes of deaths that never occurred, yet happened.

Henry turned his attention back to his hands. He tried to summon his gold ink.

Piercing pain gouged through his eyes and burned his fingers. He immediately stopped and covered his eyes with his arm. Drops of gold ink wiped onto his skin. Gold seeped out from under his fingernails, and blood oozed from the unhealed wounds in his fingers.

I've never seen skin peel open like a zipper, Henry thought with detached intrigue. He shook the thought away.

He should hurry up. There were others waiting for the shower.

Bendy snoozed on the bed as he waited for Henry. The man had been unusually quiet ever since supper. He was a million miles away, even emotionally. He silently cried through the meal and then excused himself to the shower.

Dot had shown Bendy to a room where he and Henry could sleep. It was little more than a closet with a bed, but to Bendy it was a king's chambers.

Sammy knocked on the door, rousing the toon. He sat up and waved at the ink man.

"Is Henry still in the shower?" Sammy asked.

"Yes. Do you need him?"

Sammy stared through the doorframe. "No. Good night."

"'Night."

Sammy left, half closing the door behind him. Bendy flopped back onto the bed with a sigh. Sammy had been acting weird. How exactly, Bendy was too tired to wonder. Maybe he wasn't used to being outside and needed to readjust. Maybe a good night's sleep would help.

Hopefully a good night's sleep would help Henry's hands. Bendy wasn't kidding when he said he and Henry used too much gold ink. The others didn't see how bad it really was, how bad Henry had broken himself for their sakes. Bendy had been quick to use what gold ink he could still summon to put Henry's hands back together.

Bendy had seen Henry injured before; Joey had gotten creative while piloting Bendy's body. Even so, Bendy had to admit he'd never seen a human bleed gold before.

Henry would scar for sure. But hopefully his hands would heal and he could still draw. Bendy wasn't sure if Henry would ever use his gold ink again.

Bendy lifted his hands over his face, turning them over slowly. His fingers felt sore and cold, and they trembled slightly. He summoned the gold ink. It coated his fingertips, same as it did with Henry, but now, thin cracks bled down his arms to his shoulders. Their dim glow flared in time with his heartbeat.

Bendy had also broken himself to open the door. But unlike solid skin and bone, Bendy was made of ink and magic. When his hands started melting and his arms split apart, he could stand it. He could put himself back together, replace what he lost with the gold ink.

Humans weren't as malleable. Ink couldn't replace bone or flesh.

It would take time for them to heal. Hopefully tonight would help with that.

The door creaked open and Henry slipped in wearing some borrowed sweatpants and T-shirt. Bendy immediately noticed his hands were bare.

"Henry, the ink washed off."

Henry looked down at his hands but didn't seem to see them. Bendy hopped off the bed, grabbed Henry by the pant leg, and tugged him forward to sit on the bed. Henry blinked slowly as Bendy summoned his gold ink.

"I wasn't kidding about this stuff helping you. You should keep it on," Bendy said as he carefully swathed Henry's hands and arms. The man smelled like water and soap and his hair was still damp. His shoulders and head dipped lower and lower.

"'m us'lly the one doin' this," Henry muttered with a slight smile.

Bendy smiled too. "I know, but I can help you with this. All you gotta do is get some sleep."

Bendy stepped aside as Henry laid down and shuffled his legs under the blankets. Bendy helped him get settled, then stepped away to curl up on the nearby padded rocking chair.

"Wh're you goin'?"

Bendy looked back at Henry. "Y-you can have the bed, I don't want to intrude or anythin'."

Henry gave him a squinted look and lifted the blanket, patting the space beside him.

Grinning, Bendy crawled under the blanket and snuggled up next to Henry, who curled around him like a cat with a kitten, arm draped protectively across Bendy's shoulders.

The empathic tether between the two hummed with mutual comfort.