Joey and The Ink Machine. || A BATIM AU FANFICTION.

MOVING PICTURES - PART 6

TWS FOR GUILT, GASLIGHTING, MANIPULATION, FLASHBACKS???, DISSOCIATION.

Henry had woken up.

He had apparently fallen unconscious. That was the explanation for why everything had gone dark, and why it felt as if he were being pulled down onto the wooden ground. The next thing he had known—he awoke in the infirmary on the thin cot of the bed. One of the workers apparently found him like that after they went to go get something for the woman who had been splattered by the ink.

At such a memory, Henry could only feel guilt. Even now, he remained completely still, and the thought of Linda was echoed in his mind.

He was alone now—in the small room of the infirmary as he rested his head on the pillow. He hadn't been too injured. He had apparently just injured a leg, and it wouldn't be long before it healed. There was a big bandage around it, and he was unable to move it that much.

In fact, he was unable to move basically any part of himself at all. His eyes lingered to the ceiling, and his mouth had hung open. His breaths were soft. What was Linda going to think of this? She'd be worried sick if he were home late. Or would she? After all, he was a burden on most of everyone. Why would she be worried? Why was he thinking like this? Why did it feel like his thoughts were swirling? Why did it feel like his mind was empty? Why, why, why?

The memory of what Joey had to said to him hit Henry again, as harshly as Joey had hit him. He felt like the mark from the blow was still on his cheek, but when he had asked someone earlier if there was anything there, they said there hadn't been.

So.. why did it feel like there was?

He remembered the way Joey screamed. How violently he strangled him. How violently he pinned him down. The darkness of the studio as he ran from him and then back to the break-room. The panic that he felt. How his heart raced more than it should have. How.. fearful he was.

At such a memory, Henry felt like screaming.

But, he couldn't scream in the state he was in. Not right now.

As he stared at the ceiling, he felt tears beginning to form in the corners of his ey—

"Henry!"

A cheerful, familiar voice sounded from the staircase of the room, faintly getting closer. One that he knew. Immediately, he turned to face the owner of the voice, and found himself filled with dread. A heavy feeling ached in his chest, and his eyes widened.

Joey was walking down the stairs, with that same grin he gave Henry before.. everything happened.

"I was startin' to think you wouldn't be awake for another hour. Sorry I didn't come down sooner! I had.. stuff I was busy with."

His ice-blue eyes were emotionless, yet his smile remained. Henry flinched in response to his sudden presence in the room. He could feel his heart beginning to race, his breaths beginning to—

"Hey, hey, old pal. Whats wrong? What's got you so panicked?"

"You.. you choked me.."

"..what?"

"You—" Henry gulped. "—choked me. I.. I ran from you.. and you punched me and you.."

He stammered, his words incomprehensible. He could barely get anything out. Joey only arched a brow—puzzled in response. Though once he gathered what Henry was trying to say, he furrowed his brows. Henry nearly flinched again at just that alone, but—

"Ha.. buddy, I just did that because I was angry! You know me. I'm easily provoked." Joey chuckled rather loudly as he walked to the bed. "Shouldn't you know that by now? We've been friends for a long time y'know!"