Every little sound was setting him on edge. Every creak of the door and every rustle of paper, was a break in the silence so thick Joey thought it must be made of cotton. He tried to direct his focus elsewhere—paperwork, scripts, reports from the maintenance crew. The words skittered and danced along the pages, mocking him.

Goddammit.

Joey was pretty sure he was losing his mind.

He tossed aside his pen, absently noting the ache in his hands. He rubbed the complaining joints and scanned around his office. Surely he had some sort of mindless busy work in need of attention around here.

Next thing he knew, he was walking out of his office and heading toward his apartment. He wasted an unreasonable amount of time making a fresh pot of tea, and by the time he was done, his counter was spotless, the trash can emptied, and the items in his refrigerator rearranged. Three times.

He didn’t even bother stepping back into his office. Instead, his cup in hand, he went straight for the animation department. If he sped up a little the closer he came, no one was there to see. His heart faltered when he rounded the corner to zero in on Henry’s desk. Empty. Not a single page of work was set (Henry always took his work home with him), and the chair was still pulled aside so the animator could slip into it as smoothly as possible.

Bendy sat next to the chair, not daring to touch a speck of dust. The little toon’s eyes brightened at first until he recognized that it was just his father. His tail fell limp and wrapped around his left leg. Joey’s shoulders fell at the sight. Bendy and Joey looked at one another, but didn’t say a word.

In the room across from Henry’s desk, the rest of the animation team was busy but tense. There was nothing but frowns, and Joey caught a few tense murmurs rumbling among them. One man even snipped at his neighbor.

“Mr. Drew?”

The man behind the voice stood behind him sorting through a collection of papers. Oh, this was one of the newbies. What was his name again? It started with an A…

Joey stepped out of the way, but had to ask, “Has Henry showed up yet?”

The young man quirked a brow, unsurprised. “Sorry, sir, but no.”

“Has anyone gotten any calls from him?”

The man shrugged. “As far as I know, no.”

Joey nodded, his grip on his cup’s handle tightening. He let the young man return to his work, and retreated back to his office where he soon set aside his untouched cup next to the other four.

Joey Drew might have thought he was doing well, keeping his worries in check and away from everyone else, but unfortunately, his mood was a plague that spread fast and infected everyone else in the studio.

As a matter of fact, things were already coming to a head in the break room.

“Can you believe it!?” Sammy raged, slamming his cup of coffee onto the table. “Joey has come in and out of my department six times—six times—today, telling me how to do my job! I swear if the tapes weren’t still rolling, I would have clobbered the bastard!”

“No, you wouldn’t have.” Susie grabbed Sammy by the arm and dragged him into the nearest chair. His scowl never wavered, but his leg was bouncing so fast, the table rattled.

Shawn, who had been listening to Sammy’s incessant tirade, frowned. “I’d hate to say it, but I can understand that completely.” He groaned as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “It’s one thing to get a surprise visit every once ’n a while, but this is ridiculous. Hardly an hour into my work, and Mr. Drew is in and out, scannin’ over every doll we make.” His face screwed up in distaste. “Not a word said between a hello and a goodbye.”

Lacie scoffed and joined the table. “At least you don’t have Mr. Drew ask’n for progress reports every hour. Can’t do a lick of work with him breathin’ down my neck.”

“Joey’s just been having a weird day,” Susie said calmly. Another unnamed employee offered Susie a drink that she politely declined.

“Yeah, but it was creepy,” Shawn said.

“And annoy’n” Lacie added while Sammy nodded.

“If ya wanna talk creepy—“ Wally walked into the break room, mop clasped in an iron hold. “Get this: Henry’s not here.”

All movement in the room stopped. Everyone stared at Wally, before Sammy broke the silence with a snort.

“Very funny, Franks.”

“No, I wish I was that funny! He’s really not here.”

“What are you talk’n about, Wally, that man’s always here,” Lacie replied. “It’s a wonder he ever leaves.”

“Oh yeah? I can prove it!”

“Oh here we go.”

Wally stuck his tongue at Sammy and said, “Just look.” He marched over to the cabinet. With a grand wave of the hand, he threw open the door. It swung open with a clatter. It almost rattled shut, but Wally caught it. He gestured toward the top shelf.

Everyone became quiet.

Susie, hesitant, slowly rose from her chair. Her heels clicked loudly along the hardwood floor as she walked. She almost wavered before reaching for the item on the shelf, and she examined it as though it was a cursed, foreign object.

With wide eyes, she looked at the group, and held up the item. “It’s…it’s Henry’s mug.”

A chair shrieked, and Sammy was at her side in a flash. He snatched the mug from her hands. After a solid five minutes of scrutiny… “Holy shit, it’s clean.”

“Yeah, and so’s his desk,” Wally said, a smug grin on his face. “See for yourself.”

One of the unnamed employees ran out of the room and down the hall. After a tense minute, the remaining group heard the guy scream, “OH MY GOD!”

In record time, the entire studio was uncomfortably aware that Henry Batim was not at work today, and Joey definitely had not scheduled a week off for him. Some checked their calendars and annoyed the secretary three or four times just to be sure. The animators were harassed, but not one of them could explain this phenomenon away. The gossipers got more incredulous as this sick game of telephone circulated.

Some even say that Grant Cohen stepped out of his office to ask around himself.

The members of the main crew who were still gathered in the break room stared at one another, in disbelief, worry hanging over their heads like a dark, stormy cloud.  

“Should…” Susie began, “Should someone call his house to check on him?”

No one moved.

“I’ve tried a coupla times already.” Wally shook his head, leaning heavily on his mop. He made the cut-throat motion with his hand. “Nada.”

“This is bullshit,” Sammy said, still staring at the mug.

“I’m telling ya, it’s a sign of the apocalypse. And you can bet that when the sky falls, I’m outta here.”

Bendy sat at Henry’s desk, trying not to fidget. He wanted to curl into a ball but didn’t dare when there were so many people in the next room. So many witnesses… When that one rando employee had run off screaming, Bendy felt his panic rise, but he stubbornly refused to move.

“He’s just a little late,” he mumbled. “Papa said so, so he must be.” He wrapped his arms around his legs. “He’s gotta be.”

“Bendy? Are you still here?” Bendy looked up to see Alice standing over him. Her hands were on her hips, but her frown was a concerned one. She got herself situated on the ground with him. “It’s been hours, Bendy.”

“I’m waiting for Henry.” He scowled and faced the wall.

Alice sighed. “This is getting ridiculous.” Bendy ignored her. “Haven’t you set up that ink bucket yet?” she asked.

Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go away.

“I think there’s a slice of cake that Sammy hasn’t eaten yet,” Alice said. “It’s double layer. You could scrape off the icing in the middle and replace it with ink, no problem.”

Wonder how much longer it’ll take for Henry to come? Hopefully Papa Drew will give him a earful for all this trouble.

Alice hummed and then gasped. “What about that invisible ink? You annoyed Wally for hours about it yesterday.” She poked the back of his head. “Don’t you wanna try it?” she asked playfully.

“No.”

Alice recoiled. Although Bendy didn’t see it, a scowl formed on her face. If she was a colored toon, her face would have become boiling red. “Okay that does it.”

Faster than he could have thought possible—and, for a toon, that was saying something—Alice scooped him up and threw him over her shoulder.

“Hey! Put me down, Al! Alice!” He pounded his fists on her shoulder and squirmed like a drowning snake. “Lemme go, you jerk!”

“Bite me. I dare you,” she shot back. “We’re fixing this right now, or so help me—“ As soon as she passed by the stairs, she shouted, “BORIS! DRAG YOUR TAIL UP TO PAPA DREW’S OFFICE. NOW!”

By the time Alice toed their father’s office door open, Bendy gave up struggling in favor of making himself dead weight for his sister to lug around. Boris caught up to them, tail dragging and ears pressed to the back of his head. Alice ignored them both and marched inside.

“Papa?” Alice called as she came in. Joey looked up just in time to see Alice hold Bendy up by the arms. “This”—She gave Bendy a careful shake—“and this”—she used Bendy to gesture to Boris—“is a problem.” She then dropped Bendy like a sack of potatoes, and he yelped.

“What was that for!?”

Alice ignored him and marched over to the door. “Oh, and did I forget about this?”

She wrenched the door open, and if one listened carefully, they could hear the sound of someone screaming in the hallway about Henry’s empty desk. Her point made, she snapped the door closed and moved aside a seventh untouched cup of tea so she could place her hands on their father’s desk.

“Papa,” she asked softly, “where’s Henry?”

Joey was quiet for a minute there, the senseless scribbles on his papers long forgotten. He was an absolute mess. Although he’d begun the day no better or worse than any other day, his vest was now hanging on a chair while his sleeves were pushed back as far as possible (the ceiling fan was at its highest setting as well), and his bowtie hung loose. His hair looked like it’s been combed through with his fingers multiple times, and he kept tapping his pen against the blank paper at an obnoxiously rapid pace.

Tptptptptptptptptptptp

Joey took in a deep breath, the taps slowing. “Honestly, sweetie…I…I don’t know.” There was a moment allowed for it to sink in. “I don’t know…and it’s driving me crazy.”

Bendy and Boris jumped while Alice slid easily out of the way when their father suddenly stood to pace.

“I don’t know where he is, why he hasn’t come in, and he isn’t answering his phone—believe me, I couldn’t begin to recall how many times I—” He sucked in a deep breath. He rubbed his temples, brows furrowed, and let out a loud sigh.

Bendy and Boris exchanged worried looks. What could they do? Papa Drew was usually so calm and easy going. If things were this bad, then…what did that say about Henry being missing?

“Papa,” Alice said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe it would be a good idea if you headed over to Henry’s house.”

Joey blinked, dumbfounded.

“It’s mayhem in here,” Alice said, flinging her arms in the air, “More than usual! Everything’s gone bananas because Henry’s not here. You need to check up on him.”

There was a long stretch of silence. Joey looked from one toon to the other. Bendy shuffled his feet, anxious. Boris’s eyes shone, worried and sad. Alice offered her father a confident nod. After a second, Joey slowly began to nod as well.

“You’re right,” he mumbled slowly. The toons jolted when Joey suddenly slapped his hands on the desk. “You are absolutely right.” He seemed to spring back to life as he went about gathering items around the office. He opened up his desk drawer and started rifling through his things as he rambled on, “You three go let the others know that I’ll be out for a bit. Oh where are my keys?”

Moving closer to his father, Boris scanned the desk, and his eyes eventually lit up. “Oh right there!” He pointed them out to Joey.

“Thank you!” Joey fished them out. “It shouldn’t take too long. Their house is about…eh, twenty minutes away—”

Alice offered Joey his vest. He slid into it as best he could, still rambling, “I’ll call to let you all know what’s going on, so stay by the phone, and I’ll—“

Prrrrrrrring Prrrrring!

Joey and the toons jumped when the ringing began.

Prrrrring!

Speak of the devil.

Prrrrring!

The four all looked at each other, and then they looked at the phone vibrating on the wall. Joey practically charged after the phone, the toons skittering behind him. He snatched the phone off its cradle and pressed it into his ear so fast, he was almost certain he’d snap the chord.

“Henry!?” he asked immediately. His heart was pounding as he waited to hear an answer.

“Joey—”

Oh thank GOD! “Oh my GOODNESS,” he cried, relief flooding his veins. His boy’s voice was the greatest thing he’d heard all day. The toons looked at one another, eyes alight.

“Where on earth are you??” Joey demanded, “Are you OKAY!? Do you even know how late you are!?”

Did Joey even know how late it was!? When was the last time he looked at a clock? “I have been worried sick all day—”

“Joey.”

Joey had half a mind to tell Henry to not Joey him young man, but he was already on a roll. “I was about ready to come check in on you two.”

The toons were trying to listen to Henry’s end of the line, but clearly they knew better than to get close while Joey’s voice was starting to rise.

“I mean, you NEVER just NOT COME IN without some kind of call prior—”

—And nothing short of death would usually stop Henry from coming i—Oh god. Dianne. The baby!

“E-even if you couldn’t, then Diane would—”

But she didn’t. Oh god. Oh god!

“And yet, WHAT ON—“

“JOEY!”

“WHAT!?”

From the other end of the line, Joey could hear Henry take in a deep breath. When he spoke again, Henry’s voice was soft, almost in reverent disbelief. Quietly, he said, “You’re a grandfather, Joey.”

His panic jerked to an abrupt halt, and it took him a moment for the words to register. The toons became nervous when Joey didn’t say anything. Meanwhile, Joey could only imagine the grand smile spreading across Henry’s face. It took a second for him to realize that his own lips were pulling into a small smile.

“…Really?!”

((Aaaand then Grandpa Drew runs out of the studio and leaves his kids to explain what the heck just happened. It takes a bit for everyone to calm the frick down. Joey might have forgotten his wallet.

 Happy Birthday, Ben. Welcome to the nuthouse—I mean family

“JOEY!” The man jolted at his pseudo-son’s voice as he yelled across the receiver. After a pause, he heard Henry take a deep breath before speaking, a heartaching-sense of happiness blasting through the phone. “You’re a grandfather.”

The man officially froze at this, not even daring to breath as the words echoed across his head many times over. Grandfather… grandfather… grandfather… “Really?” He whispered, ecstatic elation filtering across his face, and, oh, he felt so happy! It felt as if he was just going to fly away!

Later, Joey found himself outside the Batim house, nervously holding a stuffed toy as he knocked, and half a second later, a grinning, but tired looking Henry answered, immediately hugging him and letting out a laugh, eyes sparkling in pure happiness. “He-,” the younger man choked out as Joey looked at his… his son fondly, doing his best to remember this expression. “He’s so perfect.”

“Of course he is,” Joey said, making Henry look at him. “He’s your son.” The man’s blinding smile came back and he shook his head.

“He’s Dianne’s son just as much… and while not in blood, he’s your grandson.”

“Henry, who is it?” Dianne called from upstairs.

“It’s Joey sweetie!” he called back, before smiling again, eyes softening as he no doubt looked forward to seeing his spawn again. “Here. Nursery is up the stairs and to the right.” Despite following him, Joey hovered at the doorjam, watching as the two shared a quick kiss before Henry gently reached down and scooped up a bundle of swaddled blankets.

“Hello Joey,” Dianne said, looking as tired as Henry as she noticed him. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“You as well Dianne. I trust you are well?” She nodded from where she was sitting, smiling at the sight of Henry and cooing at their son.

“Do you want to hold him?” Henry asked, and the elder man was quick to nod, making the brunette let out a tired giggle. Settling on the extra footstool beside Dianne, Henry gently pressed the bundle into his arms, and his breath caught once again as the newborn let out a tired gurgle and pressed his face into Joey’s chest.

“Hello,” he started to say, but his throat tightened and eyes watered sharply. This… this precious child, he was his grandson. Henry and Dianne watched the scene from the rocker, hands clasped and eyes gentle with love and joy. “Hello there… little Benjamin…”

The baby let out another coo, and when he carefully adjusted a blanket, a hand somehow got loose and snatched one of his fingers, holding it tight as the boy drifted back to sleep.