Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A persisting thumping erupted in his chest. To him, the beating was unfamiliar, but calming in a way. This drumming in his chest carried over into his other parts, and the sensation tingled outward. The bell in his chest tolled in the back of his mind, calling him to remembrance of where he came from. However, it stopped there, unfounded and unheard. He didn't remember where he had come from, but he was...here. He became here. He breathed in and out, his arms crossed against his chest protectively. He shivers, hoping for something to stop the reaction. He snivelled. Everything was sticky and cold. Sticky, cold, and noisy . All of these unfamiliar sounds and sensations. It was the most displeasing experience in existence. His existence. He dared to open his eyes, away from the familiar blackness of his upbringing. A bright light blasted into his sight, blazing like a fire that seemed about to singe into his soul. He hissed, clearly displeased from it all. Why was he brought here in this harsh place? Another noise piped up somewhere in the midst of the cacophony forcing its way onto him. He flinched away from the source, holding himself even tighter.

“Hey there, little buddy. It's okay- it's alright. No one's going to harm you, ” a low, gentle voice chimed.

Feet shuffled on the floor, and the harsh light was blocked out from the large shadow that loomed over him. His tail twitched at the sight of it.

“Well, I'll be damned, it actually worked- cuter than he looks on paper,” another voice whispered from behind the shadow.

“Let's not get too jumpy, Daniel. We will have to take this one step at a time. Let's calibrate the ink pressure to a lower setting, please.”

The whirring and jutting of the machine slowed to a quiet mumble. The noise was still unpleasant to the medium-sized demon, but it was more tolerable than the last setting nonetheless. The devil eyed the now kneeling figure in front of him, unsure of how to take his presence. He took a quick glance at his own hands. They were solid and pulsating slightly from the inside. This tiny thumping was all over his body. Such an odd sensation, but he felt… present.

“Ah, you must be awfully cold. You're practically shaking. Here, let me get you a blanket.”

He finally stilled once the blanket enveloped his body. It seemed obvious that this man, whatever he was, was not out to get him- but he couldn't be too trusting. He just met the guy. He wanted to at least settle his worries by rationale. The demon began to open his mouth, his teeth glaring in the light. His tongue tingled from its exposure to the crisp air. The little creature started in a coughing fit, bits of trapped ink sputtering out from his airway. Once all the ink cleared his lungs, a raspy, young voice finally rose from his throat.

“Might I ask… who are you- where am I?”

“I'm Joey Drew, your creator. We’re at the studio with our crew. Everyone has been anticipating your arrival, Bendy. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Welcome to the crew.”

Joey smiled and slowly extended his arm toward Bendy, palm facing upwards. Bendy tilted his head slightly, wondering what he wanted from him. Was there something on him? He looked around himself, searching for a solution. Joey chuckled lightly at the demon’s small display of innocent distress. The creator gently grasped his hand onto Bendy’s, shaking it. The small demon’s eyes widened in interest, feeling another's contact for the first time. The feeling of his hands and skin was very different from his creator’s, the devil’s body entirely smoothed out in solid black substance. Something felt familiar to Bendy, but he couldn't quite narrow on it.

“Ah, silly ol’ me- just a handshake..” Bendy chuckled at himself, a little embarrassed by his own naivety.

“It's fine, Bendy. We understand how all of this can be a little...overwhelming for you. In fact, we were all overwhelmed at the same beginnings of our lives before.”

Bendy. Bendy the demon. That name seemed familiar to him. It felt strangely right. He was finally able to recall at least that bit about himself, but everything else still remained a blur in his conscious. If Joey truly was his creator, then he'll know exactly how and why he was here.

Bendy’s brow quirked at his response, “They were...you were expecting my arrival? But... why am I here?”  

“You're here with us. You were brought here because you were born into the world with a purpose. Just like me and the others. Finding a purpose in the world comes natural, and it'll will soon come to you too.”

What did that mean? He was brought into existence to realize his own purpose. Bendy focused into himself. What was this purpose Joey was talking about? When he looked into himself, he didn't really feel anything. There was nothing to grasp but void. How could he find it when nothing speaks to him in the first place. Bendy furrowed his brows, digesting Joey’s words in his head. Still, nothing seemed clear for himself.

Joey noticed the bewildered expression fixed on Bendy’s face as the devil looked to his shoes. He placed a hand on the smaller figure’s shoulder, hoping to comfort his creation to at least put him off edge. Bendy was meant to keep people on their toes, being the intuitive character he always was. He'll have to be extra careful with him as opposed to Boris. For just being in the world, his creation was already pressing to know more than he could comfortably answer. He figured all of this explaining was going to potentially make things even more complicated. It was a lot to take in.

“Everyone goes through the same feeling. The people you meet in life can help you find your own potentials.”

“I'll find what I really want? I won't be... empty?”

“You won't be empty. We're only here to help each other.”

From his last clause, Bendy glanced up at Joey, finally getting to register his full appearance. His wrinkled, porcelain skin was a stark contrast to Bendy’s own sable image. His forward expression was steady and driving, which gave off an air of certainty and confidence- in turn Bendy started to feel a little certain himself. He didn't know exactly why, but something inside of Bendy told him he could trust the wizened man that stood in front of him. He wasn't here to tear him down.

“I guess you're right.”

His visions were true; Joey’s creation was here and alive. His coworkers were incredulous of his very proposal, and some further remained skeptical of his sanity. His research at the venerable workshop’s animation department was mighty strange, dealing on the whole as it did with literally “bringing his animation to life.” To the rest of his workers, the research proposal and work ethic involved was so monumentally insane that it was tempting to think that it was all the product of a deranged artist's imagination, obsessing over his creations. This and the unsafe work environments taxed on by the ink machine was enough to deter some of his workers to find other jobs with a considerably less...peculiar boss. But Joey, being the determined man he was, didn't ebb at the whittling support of his colleagues. He knew there were other methods to navigate the roads of his proposition, and with the help of his loyal remaining group, he was able to triumphantly spearhead his wishes.

And his dream came true. An unbelievable breakthrough- to be able to influence, raise, and experience his creation in reality. His discovery meant it will forever change the lives of children and adults all over the world. This was further than what research around the world could muster- to synthesize life with something so mundane yet magical.

“Now, let's go upstairs. We have a certain fellow wolf waiting to see you,” Joey said as he helped himself up with his cane. He started walking out the room's doorway, and Bendy began to follow his elderly creator down the wooden hallway. The realization hit Bendy at the near mention of his friend, wiping away most of his internal fog. A piece of him returned right in its place.

“Boris? That old hound, he's probably so worried sick about me, he's actually missing out on his daily dose of mischief!”

The creator simply smiled as the demon passed him, bolted up the stairs and charged forth to greet his old friend. He really is going to settle in fine.

The plan is finally coming into place.

Chapter Text

Finding one's own niche in the studio didn't pose much difficulty with the two lively characters and others alike. It turned out Bendy and Boris weren't the only results of the elder man's brainchild, but Joey was the creator of many animations that roamed these halls… many sheeple.

Everyone including the human staff exuded a lively air that brought this place to life and in return to Bendy and Boris as well. Naturally around the time of a holiday, deadlines were right around the corner and the crew was busily working on the newest episodes, trying the meet the status quo of at least three episodes a day. Despite them being obviously pressed for time, it was apparent Boris found his niche from the start. The cartoon wolf seemed to find his knack for the different types of instruments he could get his paws on in the music department. Fortunately, Boris’ musical talent was considered a blessing for the crew, mostly for his non-stop ideas and writing new compositions for every episode. He didn't want to admit it, but Bendy anticipated hearing Boris’ compositions come to light from the small chamber orchestra. It was especially exhilarating when it was time for Bendy’s additional vocal parts. Albeit Bendy might have been a natural improviser, he wasn't the absolute best at his singing. His versatile skill in dancing compensated for his voice, however. Readying for his part in the song, a small smile grew on the demon's face. He glanced over to Boris from inside another audio booth. The wolf looked down, fixing one of the straps to his overalls, obviously bothered by something but glanced back at Bendy, pulling a small, toothy grin. It must have been his nerves getting to him again before the recording. This was most likely not going to be the last take. Bendy knew that he was different from Boris when it came to pressure. He especially enjoyed the extra attention, unlike his furry counterpart. Something touched warm from inside Bendy’s chest, but it was a welcoming feeling- determination? Drive? Whatever it was, it was fitting. The small demon leaned in closer to his mic, anticipating his quickly approaching part.

--“Sing Along with Bendy” by Tymime ( https://youtu.be/fe0aFg-H3mo ) ---

♫Come along and sing with Bendy, with Bendy, with Bendy,

come along and sing with Bendy--

Bendy is your pal...

…

♫I know there's dark times ahead, just remember what your pal Bendy said,

come along and sing with Bendy--

Bendy is your pal...

---

The take itself wasn't perfect, but it was the best out of every take they had done. A modest glint of incertitude crossed Bendy as he noticed how unattached Boris’ voice was throughout the session. The horned character's tail twitched, transfixed in thought. He just sounded...off today.

“You feelin' alright there, Boris?”

The wolf took a handkerchief from his front pocket and whipped beads of sweat from his forehead, “I don't think so, buddy...uh, I really don't feel so good right about now.”

Bendy's wolven counterpart stood listlessly in the recording studio. Boris' ears drooped slightly by his head, as if they couldn't keep up their own weight like the rest of his body. His vacant, black eyes paired with his slumped, sapped posture. He was present in the sense of taking up physical space, but it seemed as if all of him wasn't... with himself. Of course the demon didn't like seeing his pal all bent out of shape like this. He walked into the recording booth, hoping to cheer him up a little. Maybe he was coming down with something. If that was the case, then the devil could test his limited culinary repertoire and whip him a quick batch of chicken noodle soup- anything to bring him out of the languid appearance before him. Bendy couldn't put his finger on it, but looking at Boris as he was right now somehow felt even more wrong than it should have. Bendy, at least, was able to remember what his musically inclined companion was like. Boris to him was an unforgettable figure. Bendy had seen all the sides and shades of Boris, but this part of him felt rather unfamiliar. Something told him Boris wasn't really there. The wolf lowered his clarinet from his muzzle, letting out a breathy sigh as if the last of his soul went out with it. Something from within the shorter friend felt rather peculiar, but he just couldn't place it together in his head- inner ebbings, faint and unfocused. Bendy’s mind was coursed with pure concern, but his face softened slightly in Boris’ presence. He brushed his own thoughts away, leaving himself to ruminate about his friend for another time. He didn't want to grant Boris the knowledge that he felt unsettled with him as well.

Boris raised his gloved paw to his face, fanning himself, “I know we're all pressed for time an’ all, so--”

“Nonsense, Boris,” Bendy lightly nudged Boris toward the opened door. “How's about we go and see Joey? He'll be the one to have an idea what's happening.”

The lanky wolf started, glanced around, and turned back to look at Bendy, noticing some members of the chamber orchestra gave inquisitive stares. “Well, gee, I don't know Bendy. We don't have much time left.”

“I'll take over for now. Plus, if you're sick, we wouldn't want to get the others sick. Then the pooch would be screwed for sure.” he continued, knowing that would do him in at least.

Bendy didn't fully get that part of Boris. That hound had such a big heart, but it was difficult for him to even consider himself. The world would practically tear him to shreds from that alone. Bendy sees it happening to Boris all the time here in the studio. Some folks knew that Boris cared so much, and they used his flaw against him. He hated it. People with that spirit are so pure- so open and tend to be easily... manipulated. Bendy winced at his roaming thoughts. His mind always came back here. He didn't really want to put it to any evils inside of him, right? It was more that there was evil in the world and that one had to either let it contaminate them or accept evils from a distance. His moral track was there in front of him, as well as the potential river of impurities by its side. Every time Bendy dismissed these thoughts, they came back with the same driving force. Even when he saw the opportunity, just because another's spirits happened to be on the purer or darker side, why would he succumb to potentially using things deliberately like others? He could protect himself against doing things that would really hurt people, but it was also a part of himself that he didn't acknowledge. It's that part he used to hurt...was it worth taking that chance to ensure the welfare for ones he really cared about?

Boris made his way toward the office and focused on the din of music behind him. From the sound of it, Bendy was already starting with the band, moving on to the next song.

More beads of sweat began to fall from the wolf's forehead. Boris started to pant and shiver. Maybe the workload was catching up to him. Things had gotten rather hectic around this time, he’d been too busy to get enough sleep. Well, that essence of the job wasn't quite new. Boris came back to his senses when he felt an odd impression around his hand. He peered closer at his glove. It appeared to be…melting. Oddly enough, there was no pain. Nothing but numbness. Dear, God. What was happening? He had to get Joey.

Boris spotted the creator in his office, tending to the layers of paper on his desk.

“Joey? Joey! Come quick!”

The man directed a glance toward the outburst of his name, “What on earth is--”

The sight before him was evidently enough to cave in his inquiry.

“I can't... feel anything…” Boris added.

The man shut the door with Boris inside his office and locked it. Ink was everywhere. Boris’ features were a milky mixture of black, white, and gray, some sliding off onto the wooden floor and dripping down at his feet like candle wax. Hearing the drops of his creation patter on the ground and feeling the spray of ink droplets bounce back onto Joey's cheek left him utterly speechless. Joey knew it was apparent work still needed to be done on Boris’ bodily composition, though melting had never been a problem...until now. The old man would rather attempt to make adjustments while he was whole instead of navigating through globules of ink. Joey considered this was the lighter of his worries. He was lucky Bendy didn't witness the incident. He'd have to start anew with both, but thankfully it was just Boris. Joey's brow furrowed. He would have to try a new method, similar to how Bendy was brought back whole again.

“W-what’s happening to me, Joey,” panic already taking over the wolf's voice.

“Nothing too bad, Boris. You probably need some sleep is all,” Joey trailed, holding a remainder of the wolf's hand.

“You'll get unstable if you deprive yourself like that for a while.” he added.

“So, that'll get me back to normal?”

“That's right.”

“But… I'm still melting. What do I do now?” Boris’ head was already leveled to the floor, the rest of his body in an undefined puddle below him.

“Don't worry. You'll come back, Boris. It'll only be a little while until you're bright and awake again. Just relax.”

“But, Joey, it doesn't feel right… this… feels different...I can't…”

The remains of Boris left a small pool of black liquid oozing out onto the floor, creeping along the grains of wood. Joey quickly fetched a mop from the closet, cursing at the inconvenience of cleaning up all the ink. Considering he still had his notes on the rituals, starting a new Boris shouldn't be so difficult.

It’s a matter of convincing Bendy.