Work Text:
Henry drew a thin outline on a piece of pad. The small sketch resembles the face of his, well if he could remember what he looked like. The studio barely any mirrors to take a small glance. Besides slowly enough he barely harkens back to the memory of his facial features. He stopped sketching the paper to look at the paper, to look at him, this wasn’t him..he can feel it. In irritation he crumbled the paper not bothering to tear it out of the pad (it would eventually be off anyway) he then threw the paper ball at the floor looking as it roll ruggedly on the wooden surface of the ground. He pushed a strand of hair on his forehead back . He sighed under his breath before once again picking up his pencil to flip another clean sheet.
Before the tip of pencil could hit the sheet a small sound of shoes clicking on the boards made him stop. He didn’t have any time to react and when he was about to turn a voice called out to him “my, my you were always have been such an artist have you Henry” a soft voice reiterated. Henry almost tripped on his shoes before he caught the baluster of the stairs he huffed his breath. “Oops I’m sorry” Joey justify from behind.
Henry exhaled “no. It’s fine” Henry itches his nape “it’s alright you didn’t mean it. It was weird to see Joey again. Even after all these years he still looked like the man he worked for and the man he left. That same faded cut, the same slender mustache, the same three piece suit he wore every single day at work. It was uncanny. It was uncanny for the man since it had been years since they’ve each other, the man was his handsome fresh-faced on his 30s. But then again lots of folks in the abandoned studios, even including those who tried to kill him, said he had a pretty well flavored face which makes him assume that just like Joey he was on his ephebe too. The difference with this Joey was that he had the pallet of the studio just like everyone, just like Henry he’s suit was splattered with little ink. For some reason he Carrie’s this strange looking lamp.
He could recall the time he met this Joey so strangely. After traveling down the music department he hears something coming towards him with a quick moment he swings his axe from behind leaving a large ‘swish’ looking if he had hit the entity only to meet a distressed face of his old pal, Joey Drew.
His hand was limp and the axe he was carrying was heavy enough for it’s tip to fall from the floor while Henry still held the handle. Joey after fixing himself realizes who tried to hit him then he was immediately in awe “H-Henry?…” there was a faint emotion in his tone “Henry, it’s me. Joey” The animator’s eyes were wide, his mouth agape, his body stiffen. Was he going mad? Has the madness of the endless ink finally succumbed his mental state? Will he finally end up like Sammy Lawrence who claimed that the monstrous ink demon was a god? or Susie Campbell who maimed many Boris for the perfection of becoming an Angel? He wanted to bash his head on the wall, slap himself awake. Is this real? His hand was lifted before it stopped when Joey reassures “no need to be afraid my friend, I’m no creature from the darkness”. Finally Henry dropped his axe a small gasped escaped from his mouth. This was him. This was Joey Drew from the flesh, or…ink. Henry’s hands rose still frozen but his arms were slightly wide. Joey followed the same but his was more enthusiastic as his was a bit wider reasoning it to be a warm embrace.
It was then that Joey realizes that the animator’s arm raise was not a request for a hug. Henry puts one hand on the other man’s shoulder and other hand impacted on the other man’s breadbasket balled. Joey felt the pain as a shock, his arms slid to hug his abdomen choking and groaning in pain his knees dropping to the ground . Henry’s hand was shaking, his teeth gritted looking down at his old business partner before speaking in a complete mutter.
“You bastard..”
The tone was in complete rage. Henry bend down to pick up his axe before walking away from the man who still held his stomach from the pain. Of course classic Joey Drew nature, he followed his ex partner. He begged in apology, giving up useless excuses, and of course blaming people for his actions especially Henry. Many threats were spoken from Henry. He told the man that if he doesn’t get his ass off his presence he’ll sacrifice him to the ink demon himself. Sammy was probably the cause from this influence. But of course classic Drew did not stop until he had been forgiven. Henry had to admit this man had too much determination in him. Even after getting himself killed following him with nothing but a peculiar lamp as the animator uses tools like his trusty axe.
After passing by Allison and Tom’s hideout he was quickly detained by Tom. Henry wasn’t surprise when Tom grew hatred on Joey, in-fact Tom had even more disdain to his old friend than he did with the animator. Henry didn’t mind the hate on his ex friend at all. Of course Allison had too much heart to be mad at the man who caused all this. “Mistakes are always made by people, but even the most evil man can have a change of heart” she’d always say to testify for Joey. She really was an angel. That really didn’t mean anything for Henry, or Tom, despite endless of apologies while staying in the hideout there was not one time he forgave him.
Hell one time while Allison gave Joey a bowl of bacon soup the tables turned between him and Tom when he was the one who slides the bowl off the wooden makeshift cell’s counter as the soup fell from the outside of the cell spilling bacon soup everywhere. Allison was of course frustrated with Henry’s sudden change of demeanor as well as waiting a good resource, but Tom? Oh he liked it.
Unfortunately for both Henry and Tom, Allison let him go for his patience and cooperation. Henry was a bit hesitant with this action but he didn’t want to antagonize Allison so he let it go. Past times hanging with Joey felt so surreal, he didn’t forgive the man of course but it was like catching up to an old friend. Eventually he got used to his presence.
Well now that whole background was over let’s go back shall we?
Henry sighs looking at the man “aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” He had a tone almost quite demanding. He put his pencil down waiting for a quick response.
Joey cleared throat he almost looked embarrassed “yes well…I can’t… rest” he responded blockade
“I see” Henry blinked before looking back to his paper. His finger fetched the pencil again beginning sketch something. He couldn’t quite know what to sketch but I guess it was going somewhere. His back slouched down like always did. It was incredibly a bad posture for him. While Joey had visible signs of insomnia of sorts Henry would’ve developed some sort of back problems in the nigh future. He couldn’t really fixed his position, Linda literally kept on joking how much he looked like a little goblin thing. Shamefully he wished he wasn’t spend nights drawing cartoon with a position like this. Joey though kept on reassuring him that to think of this as a battle scar but for animators. That way people know what he has been through so many hardships just to entertain people younger his age. Henry would assure his pal that he wasn’t going to war lightheartedly. “Did all those sleepless nights finally turned you into bullfrog?” The animator joked.
Joey chuckled “yes but I don’t feel like croaking all night long” his finger touched and straightened his mustache “how about you?” He slowly lifted his lamp lower that way Henry could see clearly.
Henry smirks “just letting my creativity run through until I’m breathless” a chortle came out “there are so many things to think of for me to stop and rest”he explained. Henry and Joey’s conversations began to act normal again. Instead of scowls as well as threats, it slowly conjures back to conversations they always start when they weren’t in the inky depths of hell. Only thing missing were booze in addition to some rolled up tobacco fresh from Joey’s seller. Henry hoped that the seller was at least legally allowed, hell he even hoped that tobacco was the only thing they sold. Henry’s fingers tightened around the thick wooden pencil as he drew whatever the animator felt satisfied him. “Something about you feels odd” Henry started out of the blue.
The former director blinked in confusion “I beg your pardon” he wondered what his old friend was talking about
“I might just making things up, but I swear your much stranger than the last time I met you” his eyes weren’t looking his old friend still scribbling on the texture of the parchment “I can’t quite put my finger into why but you seem a teensy bit of difference than the Joey I knew”
Joey chuckled wiping his nose “well maybe the Joey you knew has changed these past years” I doubt that Henry rolled his eyes “no but seriously, looking back things haven’t been great for us. It’s still a miracle you’re still alive. No…no offense” he shrugged. Henry gave a small ‘non taken’ mumble. If Henry had to be honest? Stuck in a cycle of never ending dialogues and same scenery made him realize that there was no where out. He was just running in circles like a fool. So he stopped trying for awhile, he decided that the only thing he had to do was to survive. Eventually he began to get a hang on the tactics at the endless halls of ink and projectors. The animator began to felt comfortable of the place. When nothing tries to kill him of course.
“I’m satisfied that Allison helped you” Joey exclaimed unusually ecstatic. Henry knew that meeting Allison was some sort of tough luck, he had a feeling it wasn’t all like this. But he was so glad for Allison “she really he trust the you in… well you” unfortunately he had to agree with that claim, Allison was one of a kind. Allison hated the over exaggerated label but Henry always felt like she really was the Alice Angel he knew. Though the words when spoken seemed pretty corny.
“Well don’t give me all the credits, she trusts the you in you to somehow” he chuckled flippantly. Joey loved praises the animator knew it. Every praises from his workers, business folks or anyone in general would end up with him having a mitigated mood. Somehow, Joey didn’t. Joey would always laugh, joking with those who complimented him. He’d whistle to this tune that the animator assumed that the melody was from the song moonlight cocktail by Glen Miller & the orchestra. He took pride in these kudos by different folks. Joey though was blank. He didn’t say anything, Just stare down the floor down the stairs. He took a deep breath and looked at Henry in which Henry not used to the silence, he always find it alarming, looks at him back to see if everything was okay.
“Henry, I’m… a piece of shit.” He opined unanticipated. Henry found it a shock that his old friend just said this out of the blue, but part of him kinda found this a bit funny but this wasn’t part of the point given. Hands tightened on the stair rail his other hand screwed on the lamp he held on his palms “I screwed- I screwed up real bad. I tell myself that it isn’t my fault but let’s be clear it is. I haven’t done anything right, I only caused you so much trouble” sweat began to pour down his face, though the pallet of the studio made it seemed like it looked like ink “I’m not a good person. I know that already. I ruined so many lives, I ruined your life.” Joey could’ve sworn his hand had splinters the more he gripped the railing “I know that an apology won’t do any good, but it’s all I can give. If I can just rewind time and fix every goddamn mistake that I conjured. But I can’t” his hands that were gripping intensely suddenly for it to move to pinch the bridge of his nose shutting his eyes, there was a small sigh that escaped from the man’s mouth “I wish I could…” his gaze didn’t even look at his pal who still stare blankly at him
This was it
This was what Henry waited for, if it wasn’t painful revenge it was a full penitent from that caused millions of lost… but why? Why in such disarray? Why does it feel so strange? This didn’t feel right. The air felt heavy as he wonders. But quickly snapped back to reality when he finally caught the solution. With sheer disappointment Henry looked back at his dear sketch pad as he began to sketch once more. Joey painfully waited for an answer, he got his answer in a slow response
“You’re not him”
He said with barely any emotion in the tone “You are not the man who led me here” he continued his words the scribbles of paper were silently heard “you aren’t the Joey Drew who led me here, your not the one who stubbornly made a hell to punish me for my absence in his miserable life, No” he shook his head “you’re not him…”
Joey was alarmed by the animator’s response. There it was the final reveal. Like Henry he was just a carbon copy, an ink imitation of the man created the once loved cartoon demon. He had similarities of Joseph Drew, but he wasn’t him. To anyone’s surprise, Joey didn’t have a physical reaction. It felt like he knew it was bound to happen. For him to find things out. Joey shuffled his foot before giving a low breathy gasp “shit…” he silently murmured. There was a low silence nothing but the old creaking wood at the second floor of the room they were standing on , a slow dripping of ink at the background. He leaned over once more on the railing his foot hiding behind the other his eyes wondering below the ground floor. His mind went immediately blank, wandering over an inky abyss “But…wouldn’t you wished it was? ” He started
The tip of Henry’s pencil stopped. The words snatched the animator attention.
“If you look at this way that Joey did screw things up” his voice was echoing through the walls which was concerning due to the amount of enemies that might get attracted “all the broken dreams that Joey Drew had shattered all these years ago, all the souls he left to rot. Nobody likes that Joey Drew, and I won’t lie its a miracle that he’s not here” it was funny to see his old act like this, he was always such a way with dramatic speeches “I’m not him, it’s true. Maybe I can be better, a better Joey Drew. That’s it! I’ll never be him. Sure it’s strange to say the least but I have a feeling that things can change” Henry felt a hint of nostalgia the demeanor was shifted to the same Joey Drew who had dreams to create a franchise. Henry missed that Joey Drew. Even if this wasn’t him.
Joey then snapped his fingers “i must go now!” He exclaimed his feet felt cartoonish as it was about to stretch and run. Joey then felt a shiver, a sudden physical contact with cold hands wrapped around his wrists
“Joey…wait” he spoke
Joey wanted to question his friend, he wanted to ask “why now? There are things that need to be done dear Henry! And I don’t have anything else to say!” But he didn’t. He was silent, his head gazed upon his carpus. The skinny hand that wrapped around the normal built man’s wrist. Touch had been a part of Joey’s life that had been generally highlighted to be something strange. Every human, every creature has the feature of having the physical sense of touch (unless you have hypoesthesia, which in any case you might not relate to Joey). But Joey had weird feelings when being touched, and no other human can do it other than Henry. Henry had a confusing body temperature which in-fact whatever temperature he had was the total opposite of Joey’s. To explain it in full detail times where Henry touches him whenever the cartoonist feels either cold or hot it would be the total opposite of Henry. There was no scientific explanation for this but then again he was a man who created another form of hell by just using an ink machine so he was the one to talk. This felt so weirdly euphoric for Joey which was strange. Maybe after 30 years he just missed his touch?… no that’s stupid
Henry’s palms tightened comfortably, warmly, gently around the cartoonist’s hand that in a force of action he felt his ears and face flush in a light carmine. He shouldn’t really feel this way, even after everything that happened…
“You can’t just leave without me saying a word, that’s roughly rude even for you Joey” he chuckled
Joey blankly stared. He then snapped back to reality slowly clearing his throat “right… my apologies” unfortunately for the man Henry let go thinking Joey would be more offended if he didn’t let go. The cartoonist though wanted it to stay that way. “I just had to… think of a way to be a different Joey than the other Joey who had created too much trouble in hopes in creating a solution” he chortled.
Henry gave a warm smile “well in that case…” his hands snuck it’s way to Joey’s palms once more which gave another ecstatic feeling to the other man “why not start by… rekindling with an old friend” his head tilted his eyes locking to his partner while holding his hands tight. The fingers brushing
Joey was silent as he stared at his friend. He felt his cheeks warm up. Those feelings have returned once more not anymore from that bitter decaying mortal body of his it was more in this ink like figure. He didn’t believed in god, his parents were Roman Catholics but he never was permanently in belief to all of it. Though this would’ve sounded absolutely but it felt like God gave him a second chance, a fragile one. He felt like this was his only chance really. He’s hands slowly wandering towards the hand the other man place and touched his knuckle. With a nervous smile he slowly blurted out…
“that…would be nice…”