BENDY X HENRY ONESHOTS *cough*(CLOSED)

Awkward.

Henry swung his legs slightly against the doctor's examination bed, the disinfectant paper crinkling beneath him.

Doctor Rotcod strode back into the room, tapping a grey pencil against the clipboard in their hands. "Well Mr. Stein, the tests are back."

The ink demon shifted closer to him out of the corner of his eye. "And?" it asked precariously.

Rotcod gave him a sideways glance. They'd already had the conversation that he was not Mr. Stein, and couldn't answer Mr. Stein's questions.

"And, it appears you're about as healthy as a horse, Mr. Stein, and doing quite well for your age. Still, we couldn't help but notice you have a strong iron deficiency, as well as a bad case of ink poisoning."

The ink demon went bolt upright at this, grabbing Henry's hand in one of his, opening the window with the other. He pulled. Henry pulled back.

Rotcod raised their eyebrows at the exchange. "Iron deficiency can be easily remedied, and is somewhat common with everyone spending more time inside. Especially with winter having just passed, " they said.

"Ink poisoning, however, is fairly less common. And from your tests, Mr. Stein, it seems there is an unhealthy amount of it (any amount is unhealthy) circulating around your system at all times. Were you aware of this and know what could be causing this?" they asked Henry, sitting down on the stool in front of the computer across the room.

The ink demon's gloved hand tightened around his. The message was clear; 'Home now'. He squeezed back and gave it a reassuring smile.

It scowled.

Then he turned back to the doctor. "Sorry, but what are some common causes for the deficiency? Just curious, because I really didn't expect it to come up."

They regarded him with a smile, the kind of professional doctor one. "Iron deficiency is becoming slightly more common these days, and as previously discussed, the cause is normally a patient staying inside during winter and not getting enough sun, as well as those who experience heavy menstruation cycles, and lose all that iron from blood loss. There's lots of ways it can slowly sneak up on you over time. Thankfully, we caught yours before it could become anything worse, and I've prescribed you some high potency iron pills to get you back on top."

"Blood loss?" he asked aloud.

The demon next to him dug its claws into its horns in anguish.

Rotcod typed something into their computer. "Yep! Though most common cases are those who menstruate. Unless there's another way you're experiencing heavy blood loss? Do you perhaps donate blood frequently?"

"I..." he winced as the demon next to him whined. "I guess you could say that."

The doctor turned away from the computer calmly. "You guess? Is something going on at home?"

Henry blinked.

They put their hand on his, making eye contact. "Honey, there are lifelines if you need them, okay? Don't ever, ever be afraid to get help."

He nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

The demon pulled his hand away.

They nodded solemnly, pulling their own hand back.

"Can we talk about the ink poisoning now?" he asked somewhat awkwardly.

"Of course Mr. Stein. Now, from the paperwork they had you do at the front desk, it says you're a cartoonist/animator for Disney, is that right?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful. Now, since you're a cartoonist/animator, do you handle ink frequently? Ink poisoning is an effect of on skin contact long enough for the substance to seep in. Are there ever times at work where something like this happens? Accidents? Spills?"

"At my old work, yes, but not anymore."

They raised an eyebrow. "And as it says here you previously worked at the foreclosed Joey Drew Studios? How frequent were accidents? It said you swapped employment just a few months ago after a long absence through your first employment at Disney." they paused in surprise.

"An absence with nothing for your file but a house repossession."

Henry winced at the mention of his lost dream home. He'd worked all summer to fix it up, only to get that damned letter the day after he'd finished.

"Well, Joey, head honcho (per the name) and my ex boss, apparently installed some ink pipes after I left, which were constantly spilling. But for me? No, not really. Occasionally I'd spill a bottle of ink or a pen would break, but that's about it. An 'accident' every two to three weeks, I'd guess. Those pens were cheap trash."

He wasn't lying, just...leaving out important bits of the truth that could get cameras in his face for the rest of his life.

They nodded. "Okay. Though that doesn't explain the high amount of ink in your system. Unless you forgot to mention re-visiting the studio?"

His stomach dropped for a moment, before he realised there was absolutely no way she could know. "-No."

"Are you perhaps in contact with large amount of ink at home then?"

The ink demon next to him growled. It tugged on his arm.

"I—yes?"

"Do you perhaps accidentally ingest any of it?"

The demon slammed its head into the office wall.

"Yes...?"

"Well, that would be a likely reason for your state. Though if I might ask—why are you swallowing so much of it? Surely at this point it can't be an accident. The amount inside of your body is detrimental to your internal organ structure and completely lethal to you."

"I—well. I..." he fiddled with his fingers. God, how do you tell some doctor about your sex life?

"I have...cravings...? For it?" he winced.

The demon slammed its head hard into the wall. "What. The. Fuck." he heard it hiss under its breath.

Rotcod raised their eyebrows, something they seemed to like doing very much. "I could recommend you with a behaviour therapist if you would like?"

Henry sighed. "I—could you just give me something to make it less lethal?"

Rotcod raised their eyebrows to the full extent of their reach. "Mr. Stein, I don't believe that's possible. But maybe if you could explain to me why this matters so much, I could help you come to a solution."

He glanced at the demon slamming its head into the wall, who the doctor seemed to be choosing to ignore. "For... personal reasons? Health related ones?" Sex Health, that was.

"Could you tell me the reasons?" they pressed.

The demon yanked the pillow from the bed and screamed into it.

"For personal reasons?" he repeated.

"I can tell this conversation is a difficult yet important one for you Mr. Stein, but please realise that if you explain your reasons it will be easier for us to find a solution that fits for you."

He gripped the knees of his pants. Alright, here we go, just tell the nice doctor who probably doesn't even care and- "Health reasons?"

Dammit.