(batim x disney)Keep Smiling ((OLD/ BEING REMADE))

34- Drippy Drop

The mouse carried the demon piggy-back style, through the projector. Oswald paced eagerly beside him. Bendy's weight was dead. He seemed to show no life whatsoever- and it worried the two toons. 

"Mick-" Oswald huffed as they land,ed back onto the plaza. "W-we need to get him to the hospital!"

Mickey shrugged Bendy more securely as they ran. "We can't." 

The rabbit kept running, waving gremlins aside. They did not intervene- they knew Mickey was professional. They must had been guessing the mouse had everything under control... Except that was not at all the case. 

"What do you mean?" Oswald hissed as they stopped to breathe. 

Mickey felt something wet and dark trickle down the side of his face. He let out a silly chuckle,  one with more of anxiety than humor. 

"What do you mean?" Oswald repeated, gritting his teeth.

Mickey shook his head as much as his neck would allow with the cartoon demon upon his shoulders. "I don't know- it was something Bendy had said." He nodded forward. "We're taking him to my house."

"Mickey!" The rabbit spluttered. 

The mouse peered ahead on the road, and felt the demon twitch. "Bendy told me something- about his soul." He paced ahead as quickly as he could. Corrupting...

Oswald jogged along. "Mick-"

The demon let out a huff of hot breath, entire body blackened with his drippy ink covering him head to toe, as if consuming him. 

Finally, they reached Mickey's house on the block. Oswald pulled open the door and slammed it shut as the demon was laid on the couch, body slackened and drippy. 

Mickey quickly went into the kitchen and snatched a towel from a drawer, before quickly dousing the cloth with faucet water. Walking back, the mouse placed it on Bendy's head. 

Oswald stood there, a ridiculed look on his face. "What the hell are we supposed to do, then?"

Mickey kept his hand on top of the demon's head. "I don't know."

The rabbit flopped down onto an armchair and grit his teeth. "He's not lookin' good. Maybe if we take him to a hospital-!"

"I'm trying, Ozzie!" Mickey threw him a rude look. "He helped me, so I'm going to help him."

Oswald sighed. "You know what? You said it was his soul? Then why don't we get that nurse?"

The mouse shook his head. 

The rabbit plucked out his phone from his cartoon-logic pockets and searched something up. 

Mickey knelt beside Bendy and watched him slowly stir. A spark of relief sparked inside the mouse like a sprinkler. 

The demon could barely move, his gold veins still spreading, but at a much slower rate. His eyes were cracked open, and he was looking straight at Mickey. His lips were pursed shut, as if he knew he wouldn't be able to talk. 

"Bendy?"

The demon's hands clenched as he blinked. The light above them was quite bright, and he winced. Slowly, his lips parted. Ink was still creeping down his face, but even this was more controlled. 

"Ink."

The mouse tilted his head to the side. 

A chill dashed through the demon. "Mickey..."

The mouse glared at Oswald. "Go get the ink supplies!"

Oswald gaped for a second. "You mean his?"

Mickey nodded. At this, the rabbit dashed up the stairs and into the small art room, where Walt's old inkwells sat. Scooping three of them into his arms, Oswald quickly bumped down the stairs, and placed them on the tables. 

The mouse unscrewed the top and held it over Bendy. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he asked softly. 

The demon struggled to speak. "...Pour the ink..." his eyes were pleading. 

"...Over what?"

"...Over them..." 

The mouse got the meaning. Pour them over the veins.

With a slightly shaky hand, the mouse obliged, and turned the bottles over. 

The black foul smelling liquid poured from the inkwells as the demon hissed. His shoulders stiffened as the liquid was doused over him.

 Mickey advanced to the next bottle as soon as the last one was empty. The veins were now turning a deeper golden color. Whether or not this was bad, the mouse did not know. 

The demon let out wispy breaths as the sting was renewed time and time again. 

The veins were turning darker and darker, but with each shade deepening it seemed Bendy was in more pain. And though he did his best not to show it, Mickey could sense it. 

Quick as a flash, the mouse withdrew the ink bottle and placed it on the table. 

"M-Mickey..." the demon could feel the hissing pain envelop his head. "Why... Did you stop?" he inquired. 

The mouse's expression was stony. He did not answer. "Oswald, get another rag." The rabbit nodded and fetched another grim towel. 

Bendy fought through the pain. Stay awake, Bendy, he chided himself. The rag on top of his head was peeled off to reveal sticky ink attached, staining it as another rag was replaced. It was cool, and had been doused with cold water. He shivered. 

"Mickey?"

"Yes?"

"That ink..." he began. "Was that... His?"

Mickey smiled slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, it was."

The demon's eyes creased as the mouse stalled. Could Mickey tell the demon was in pain?

And then, as soon as the demon thought this the mouse continued. It caught Bendy off guard as he let out a squeak. 

And then, finally, the veins were gone. 

Bendy allowed his tense muscles to relax. 

"...Bendy?"

The demon blinked. 

"It's not gone, is it?"

The demon slowly eased forward, his stiff body painful. He shook his head. "No, it will come back again and again..." He tried to get up, but Mickey pushed him down. 

"Why did it happen after that?"

The demon bent his head. "...I'm messed up, that's why."

He stood up and, surprising the mouse and rabbit both, and ripped off the towel. 

"Bendy- you need to keep that on!" the mouse cried. Oswald cleared his throat and the mouse glared. "Aren't you gonna help?"

"Actually, I am helping," the rabbit shot back. He tossed his phone. "Take a look."

The mouse fumbled for it and caught it. He read the screen, eyes wide. The demon didn't care to look, but his horns twitched slightly when the mouse gasped. 

"You mean... You've been talking to the doctors about us?"

The rabbit nodded. Bendy's head snapped up to the rabbit, face split with shock and anger. 

"W̶̡͏h̡á͡ţ͞͞?"

___

1065 words.

Holy sheet- this was tiring to write. -PRESHY