Hey, I'm back. It's been a while with this chapter, but I'm pretty sure it's the longest I've written so far in any of my stories on this site, so there's that. Anywho, who's ready for the halloween special where I update a chapter in every story?! Woot!

Oh yeah, and quick warning, this chapter is insanely dialogue heavy.

I had just finished a session with a patient when I got a rather interesting call from an old friend.

Riiing Riiing Rii-

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Casey. Am I speaking with Mary?"

"Casey McKinnley?"

"Yup."

"This is Mary speaking, how may I help you?"

"I have to speak with you about something… privately."

"What about?"

"It's confidential, can I speak with you in person?"

"That can be arranged. When are you open?"

"Tuesday at around 6 looks like a good time. How's that for you?"

"Hmm… that seems fine. I'll see you then."

"Have a nice day."

"See you."

"Bye."

"Bye."

*Click*

I sat back in my chair, contemplating the odd conversation in the few minuted I had between patients.

"Huh, that cryptic," I thought, "must be something serious."

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

I made a note of the date in my calendar, I had to make sure not to schedule anything or anyone for that time.

Honestly, the rest of the week wasn't too exciting. I had patients come in and patients leave. The weekend rolled around, I had a couple conference's and met up with some cousins, the weekend left.

Then Tuesday happened. I still knew the way to Casey's house, it hadn't been that long since our last meeting. Sometimes she would want an expert's viewpoint on some of her students' actions. Other times we'd discuss get into a good conversation, a bit of small talk, or even that one time a theological debate.

When I arrived we exchanged the usual small talk, how the classes have been, how people's health has been holding, that kind of little gossip. Then, though, the conversation took a… weird turn, to say the least.

"So, you're probably wondering the reason why I called you over to my house."

I had been, and motioned for her to continue. She seemed almost sheepish as she did so, but pressed on nonetheless.

"Before I tell you anything, I need you to swear to me that you will not tell a soul about anything spoken here."

This was different. I know about student-teacher confidentiality and such, but she wouldn't tell me anything if it broke that agreement, right?

Regardless, Casey had something to say, and something important too. I nodded.

"I swear."

"Good," she said, "Now, you are aware that I sometimes need a consultant when dealing with certain students."

I nodded. It wasn't unheard of, and we would often meet face-to-face in those cases. It was just easier that way; body language and all that. But she usually would tell me that's what we were meeting about, so why the secrecy earlier?

"I had an encounter yesterday and the previous that was… hmm, how shall I put this? Concerning is probably the best word."

I sat up straighter, interest piqued.

"Concerning how?"

"I was getting to that." She pursed her lips, seeming troubled about her next words, "It's a bit hard to believe, but..." She sighed, closing her eyes, bracing herself, before looking me straight in the eye, "as it turns out, one of my students' imaginary friends is real."

What.

What.

" What? "

"Like I said, it's hard to believe, but it's true. I saw the friend in question with my own eyes, Maria.

She wasn't joking around. People don't call you by your formal name like that when they're making a joke.

I took a deep, grounding breath. Some people's "imaginary" friends have turned out to be real people before. Just a few edge cases of stalkers though, and Casey's wording seemed… off if that was the case. Maybe some kind of hallucination? But then...

"What do you mean by 'saw the friend in question'? What did they look like?"

"That's the thing. It's not just what they look like. It's what they are. " She took another deep breath, "They're a demon, Maria. An honest to g-d demon."

I could only stare blankly at the teacher as a small waterfall of words started to stream from her mouth. Things about ink and demonic summoning gone wrong and parent-teacher conferences and living cartoons and...

I held up my hand for her to stop. I was having a hard time processing the whole thing and told her as much. She gave me another sheepish look, this time a smile though.

"Sorry, I just… got carried away I suppose. Maybe a condensed version then?"

I shook my head. There was no need.

"No, no, just give me a moment. I'll get it. Just takes a minute to fully process."

And process it did. The full weight of the situation hit me like a truck.

Here was two people who had gone through almost literal hell, complete with demons it seemed. One of these people was a war veteran. And one of these people was a demon who was... mentally altered or manipulated somehow into attacking that man. The man trekked through an abandoned animation studio that he used to work at while fending off the demon and some kind of creatures with nothing but an axe, then somehow freed the demon. And now the demon and man live with the man's sister and niece. And now the demon feels really guilty while the man insists that it wasn't the demon's fault. Not to mention that the demon is also a cartoon that was somehow brought to life through some kind of black magic and/or devil worship.

I repeated these thoughts to McKinnley, making sure I got it right.

"That sounds about right."

Okay then…

"I'm going to need a day or so to mull this over, if that's okay."

"That's fine. That's fine. There's no rush. Just… let me know when you've made a decision, one way or the other."

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

An mull it over I did.

The conversation mostly died after that, and I soon left. It had been getting late anyways, but the walk home wasn't dark yet so I used it to try to organize my thoughts. So far the folders were:

Familiar things

Paranormal what

Way home

Everything else

Two things kept sticking out of the first two folders though. They occupied the majority of my mind, even as autopilot got me ready for bed.

Take off shoes, get dinner ready, eat diner, 1. Two people need help. shower, comb hair, brush teeth, floss, 2. One of these people is a demon + DEMONS ARE REAL!, get changed, get in bed, sleep… can't sleep.

I have to make a decision. My mind won't let me sleep otherwise. One one hand, demons are real, one tormented and apparently tries to and almost succeeded in killing a person. On the other, two people are in need of help.

My mind won't let me sleep otherwise.

I dialed the phone, even at this hour she'd probably still be up figuring out the next week's lesson plan.

"Casey? I've decided."

My mind won't let me sleep otherwise...

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

*Knock Knock*

"May we come in?"

Mr. Ross walked in, a bag slung over his shoulder and holding the hand of who I can only assume was my other potential patient. Bendy the Ink Demon.

I had prepared for this. I knew it was coming.

Nonetheless, the sight of a creature that wasn't even remotely of this world (He didn't even have a neck! The head's just floating there!) left me... off balance, as it were.

At least I wasn't the only one. While Henry seemed fairly centered, if anything about human body language could be applied to a demon he was looking far more nervous than I was. And also a little bit… runny? In more than one sense of the word, I noted. Not only did he look ready to bolt, but his 'skin' was glistening and seemed almost viscous. I was debating asking about this even as they sat down.

Henry had opened his bag and taken out a towel and placed it on my couch, Bendy promptly hopped up on. Soon, a faint black mark was evident on the it. Well, that answered one question, I suppose. While Henry seemed fairly at home in a psychiatrist's office, his friend wasn't so sedate. He was fidgeting, running a spaded tail through gloved hands.

I suppose introductions were in order then.

"Hello, I'm Maria, but feel free to call me Mary."

"And I'm Henry Ross." The man- Henry -introduced himself, shaking my offered hand.

"So, you are Bendy I take it?" I asked, reaching out my hand in invitation. The little demon looked at it for a moment like he wasn't entirely sure about the whole situation, but reached out and shook after a second regardless.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both. Feel free to take a seat, make yourselves comfortable."

It seemed that neither one of them was taking me up on that offer though, as the demon on the couch only fidgeted more whilst Mr. Ross sank farther into his lean against the pale plaster walls. He and I locked eyes for a moment, tired conflicted browns meeting my hopeful blues. Letting out a small sigh, contact was broken as he averted his gaze to the small window.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather stand."

"That's fine," I said, my eyebrows raised and furrowed in question and concern, "would you like anything before we begin?"

"Yeah, I've got one, could we move?!"

I gave a small start at the unexpected voice. I couldn't quite place the accent, but it was certainly unexpected. However. even with an ambiguous accent, his tone was clear as crystal. Desperation masked by sarcasm… concerning, to say the least.

"If it's not too much trouble Mary. It's just, we've both got this… thing about basements. Bad experiences as it were."

*snort* "Tha's one way a puttin' it."

Not today, unfortunately. They had been instructed to arrive slightly late as to not attract attention from those waiting for their appointments, but now those rooms would all be full. We'll just have to make this fast.

"I'm sorry, but today that's not possible. The other rooms are all booked right now, next time I'll try and book one upstairs," an idea struck, "but would it help if I opened the window?"

I took the subsequent shrug and head dip from Mr. Ross and frantic nodding from Bendy as a "yes". (I could've done without the splatters on the couch though)

The rush of fresh air was a, for lack of a better term, breath of fresh air. You never really notice how stuffy the place can be until it clears up.

I returned to my seat, smile on face and took quick note of the slight tension leaving my guests. Yet another thing you don't notice until it's gone.

"Is there anything else you would like to address before we start?"

"No."

"Don' think so."

I gave a small nod "Good, however I have to make you aware of a few things."

Both guests leaned forward in anticipation as I pulled out a small list of points from my bag.

"First, anything that is said or done here, unless dangerous or illegal, is completely confidential unless you wish for it to be otherwise," a glance at my guests revealed yet more tension lifted from the demon's shoulders. "Second, please correct me if I ever make a mistake or misconstrue. This is new territory for me and it's most likely going to be very easy to misinterpret."

There was nodding, but no one spoke up so I figured I might as well do some prompting.

We went throughout the usual schtik, small talk, getting to know each of them a bit better, before I asked a more prodding question.

"Is there anything anyone would like to get off their chest?"

My only response for a full minute was a blank stare from Henry, Bendy suddenly gaining a great interest in the couch cushions, and the ft-ft-ft of the old fan.

.

.

.

The silence broke.

"It's just… I've done some stuff. Some bad stuff. They say that it wasn' me, that I was bein' controlled so it doesn' count. But it was me. I sawtha acts, I felt tha blows, I did the deeds."

"And what now?"

The little demon jerked back slightly as though someone had just snapped their fingers under his lack-of-nose. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that Henry's mouth had quirked up into a slight knowing smile; almost a smirk.

"Now… now… hmm..." Bendy started wringing his tail in his hands in what I can only assume was thoughtful fidgeting, "I s'ppose I jus' haveta try 'n fix it. 'Ts that'r live with tha guilt hangin' over me fer tha rest a' ma life."

Now I was wearing that knowing smile too. Bingo.

"You do know that that's a good thing, right?"

He jerked his head up to look at me so fast that if he had a neck I'd be worried about whiplash. Good, he's receptive. I hope it's the same for demons as it is for humans...

"Feeling guilty about what you did is a good thing. A VERY good thing. It's a sign that you don't want to do whatever made you feel that way again. In fact," I leaned forward in my seat, hands falling from the armrests to my lap, "it would be far more concerning if you didn't feel guilty over what you did."

He still seemed a bit unsure, but I could tell that the little demon was realizing the truth of my words. He looked to Henry for confirmation. The man nodded.

"Doctor Morris is right, being guilty about something you feel that you did wrong is a good thing. But," he reached over and squeezed the little devil in a comforting hug, "you don't need to feel guilty."

"Actually, I think that he might."

Both man and monster snapped their gazes back to me, one on high alert the other looking like someone slapped him.

"What I mean is that yes, Henry is right to an extent, it wasn't truly your fault. You were manipulated into trying to kill someone Bendy, it was the manipulators fault."

The two on my couch stared at me before sharing a long look with each other. It was about to get awkward when Bendy finally piped up, "But..."

Ah, yes. The 'but'.

"But, and correct me if I'm wrong, you still feel like it's your fault. You feel that because you saw it happen, because it was your body doing the deeds, that you are responsible. That somehow you should have been able to snap yourself out of it." I shook my head, "In the heat of the moment anyone can make the wrong judgement."

"But… 't wasn' a' 'heat 'a tha moment' thing. I planned tha whole thin' out. I knew what I was doin'. I knew an' I did it anyways."

"And there's nothing that you can do about it now. What's done is done. You can't change what you did, but you wish you could. But," I gave my best reassuring smile. "Here's the wonderful thing, nothing that you did was permanent. "

Bendy gave me a look of six parts dubiousness and a half dozen hopeful.

"But ya' jus' said that I can't change what I did. Now yer sayin' nothing I did stuck? Huh?"

"Sort of. You can't change your actions. But none of those actions lead to any permanent consequences. You can still try and make things up to Henry, can't you?"

It took a moment, but the dawning look of understanding on Bendy's face was priceless. I turned to Henry. Yes, the look on the demon's face as a nice mirror to the one Henry had been wearing since he first began speaking.

"All of your emotions are valid. If you feel like you need to feel guilty, then feel guilty. But just remember, these things will pass. They always do. Keep looking forward, you'll be fine."

After that, the rest of the meeting was a comparative cakewalk. You usually don't have people so willing to spill their guts, but it seemed like those two were a bit desperate to get some things off their chests. I don't exactly blame them, considering… I mean, I wouldn't blame them period, it's not my place, but yeesh ...

The time flew by, and before we knew it, it was nearly time for my next patient. I had to wrap this up, so:

"Before I meet with the two of you again I'm going to want to talk with you separately, if that's alright."

He nodded and pulled out a slip of paper.

"Here's my contact info."

We swapped information, said our goodbyes, and they left.

I would have to look into some kind of recorder for the session. It would probably do Bendy some good to hear Henry's side of the story*.

*unedited, you will tell a story differently to different people. And, of course, if it turns out that it would be detrimental to share the tape and/or either of them aren't okay with Henry being recorded it won't happen. She'll ask, of course