Chapter Text
I really like @insane-control-room‘s Johan, and since they wrote this story where Esther and Johan are actual siblings, I wanted to write something where Esther’s canon counterpart meets Johan’s canon counterpart.
Esther’s main canon is this. She’s in other stories I’ve written, but that’s where I introduced her and that’s the closest AU to the main canon of the game.
Esther had thought she was used to her brother’s weirdness. She was used to the living toons, she was used to the demonic rituals, she was even used to hearing about the horrifying sacrifices he’d performed using his employees. But alternate dimensions, that she was not used to. And yet, here she was, in an alternate dimension, talking to an alternate version of her brother. She’d heard stories about this sort of thing before, mostly in fiction, but never had she imagined she herself would witness the phenomenon of parallel universes. This world was so different from her own, and yet, some things were still the same.
She and Joey had gone back to the studio that day to make sure there was no lingering demonic magic. Joey was still on thin ice with everyone. Henry had managed to reverse everything Joey had done, and Joey seemed to regret his actions, but everyone was still wary of what he might do. Being that Esther was his older sister, and thus the one best able to control him, she had been entrusted with the task of accompanying Joey back to the studio.
“Do you have the key or...?” Joey paused in front of the door to the studio. Esther nodded, digging around in her purse until she found the right key.
“How did you get that?” Joey asked.
“This place has been “abandoned” for years, so the city is trying to buy it back. They want to bulldoze and build something.” She replied, fitting the key into the not. “Since they couldn’t find you, they came to me. I had a key made and was going to check it out later. But Henry beat me to it.”
“Oh.” Joey’s shoulders slumped a bit at the prospect of the studio being torn down. Esther pursed her lips, glancing back to her brother.
“I know you’re upset to lose this,” She said, her voice soft. “You worked hard to build it and you don’t want to let it go. But this place is a monument to your mistakes, and it needs to go.”
“I know.” Joey nodded, hanging his head.
“You can always start over.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “You can learn from your mistakes. You can make things better.”
“I think I’ve run out of chances, Esther.” Joey smiled sadly before going inside. Esther sighed and followed.
The studio was darker than she remembered. The last time she’d been there, the studio had been in operation. She let her eyes wander over the walls and ceiling, taking in the ink and cobwebs. Joey set off with purpose down the halls. He seemed to understand what they needed to find, which gave her some comfort.
“What are we looking for?” She asked, staying a step or two behind. She couldn’t help but be reminded of when they’d been young when Joey had taken her on ‘adventures’, which had generally involved him dragging her through the woods near their house while he made up some kind of story.
“I’m not sure,” Joey admitted. “But I need to check the Ink Machine to make sure it’s off.”
“Isn’t the machine back there?” She gestured behind them. They’d passed the area where she knew the machine resided.
“That’s the smaller one. I need to check the big one.”
“The...big one,” Esther repeated. Henry had described the Ink Machine as being pretty big. If that was the smaller one, what was the bigger one like?
“Why do you have two Ink Machines?” She asked, fighting her urge to pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh.
“....Reasons.”
“What kinds of reasons?”
“Creating life reasons?”
"Right. Of course.” She gave in and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She wasn’t going to ask. She probably wouldn’t understand his explanation anyway.
“Alright, lead the way.” She said.
As it turned out, the big Ink Machine was at the very bottom of the studio. It was baffling how massive the studio actually was. Esther had seen the blueprints for the studio. She knew how it was supposed to look. And this was not it. Not to mention, the number of places that were flooded was just physically impossible. The studio defied the laws of physics. After a certain point, she just decided it was black magic and stopped questioning it.
“Here we are!” Joey said proudly once they reached the big Ink Machine. It was massive. The size of a small house. Esther could only stare at it in complete shock and veiled disbelief.
“This is completely ridiculous.” She muttered.
“I think it’s pretty cool,” Joey said. “Come on! I want to show you the inside!” Esther tentatively followed him through the sea of ink and into the machine. The inside of the machine was strange, certainly nothing like she’d imagined the inside of a machine to look like. It looked almost like the passages of the studio. There were glass cases in some of the walls, showing inky forms that resembled humans and one that looked like Boris.
“This is my favorite part!” Joey led her into a small room at what she assumed was the center of the machine. It looked like a throne room. There was a large chair in the middle, surrounded by projectors. On the walls, screens were playing clips from the Bendy cartoons. There were chains hanging from the walls.
“What was this place, Joey?” Esther asked quietly. She could think of only a few ways for the projectors to end up down here, and the majority of them involved decapitation. She’d heard the story from Henry of how Bendy had ripped Norman’s ‘head’ off of his shoulders. From what Henry had said, the demon had taken the projector with him. How many times had that scene played out?
“It was- It was....” Joey’s bright smile slowly faded. He stopped talking, staring at the chair. There was a faraway look in his eyes as if he was seeing something that she couldn’t.
“Nevermind.” Esther shook her head, stepping toward the center. It was then that she noticed a reel sitting on the chair. Frowning, she started climbing the steps to inspect it. She picked up the reel, turning it over in her hands. It had ‘The End’ written on it in her brother’s handwriting. She made a small noise of interest. Maybe it was some sort of lost footage. She had to admit, she was rather curious what the reel contained. And there was a projector right there. It might have served as a head once, but it was nothing more than a projector now. Turning, she bent down to put the reel in the projector. As soon as she did this, Joey snapped back to reality.
“Get off there!” He screamed. “Don’t touch that!” But it was too late. She was already fitting the reel into the projector. Almost immediately, the room began to shake, a bright light blinding the siblings. The last thing Esther heard was her brother screaming her name. Then there was only blackness.
.
.
She woke up in a strange void. Everywhere she looked, there was only blackness. She sat up, looking around with a frown.
“What on Earth?” Her voice echoed back on her from the darkness. She stood up, brushing herself off. She supposed it was her own fault for touching the reel. She should have known better. She sighed in irritation at her own foolishness. But then again, beating herself up wasn’t going to get her anywhere. So she started walking. She had to figure out where she was and how to get back to Joey before he did something rash.
The darkness stretched on in all directions. She had no idea which way she was supposed to be going. But she kept walking. She couldn’t stop. She couldn’t give up. That was the way it had always been. There were people counting on her, so she wasn’t allowed to stop or give up. But still...She felt remarkably lonely and hopeless when faced with this blackness. And her feet were starting to hurt.
“Is anyone here?” She called. The only answer she got was her own voice echoing back on her. She suddenly felt very small, as if she were a child again. There was no one here. She was alone. A whimper escaped her lips unbidden. She stopped, shaking her head. No. She couldn’t let herself be weak. Then, suddenly, she heard someone crying. It was a familiar sound, one she’d heard before. Many times before.
Immediately, she zeroed in on that, following the sound until she found herself in front of a door. Above the door was a lighted sign saying, ‘Johan Ramirez’. No, that wasn’t right. The name above the door didn’t match the voice she was hearing. The voice she was hearing was her brother’s. She couldn’t count how many times she’d come home to hear that crying. Her hand was on the doorknob before she had time to think. She deliberately paused, staring at the door. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to go in there and comfort the man she was certain was her brother. But the name above the door wasn’t his. What if she ended up walking into a stranger’s home?
“Joey?” She said, her voice soft. Immediately, the crying stopped.
“Who’s there?” That was her brother’s voice. She was certain of it now. She turned the knob and entered. To her surprise, she found herself in her brother’s office. The one he’d had at the studio. But the man sitting at the desk was not her brother. He looked a little bit like her brother, she’d admit that. The same perpetually messy dark hair (she remembered all the times she’d tried to smooth it down before they’d gone to synagogue, only to have it pop right back up), the same gangliness he’d never managed to outgrow, the same stupid pencil mustache. But this was not her brother. His skin was too dark, his eyes too wide and innocent, and Joey had never worn glasses in his life.
“Who...Who are you?” The man with her brother’s voice asked.
“I’m...” She found herself at a loss for words. There was so much pain in his eyes. He reminded her so much of the Joey she’d known before. The one who’d tugged on her skirts and shown her his drawings and always smiled and told her he was alright even when he wasn’t. The Joey she’d lost when he’d run away from home.
“My name is Esther.” She managed to say. “Esther Drew.” Her maiden name was a closely guarded secret. No one knew she was related to the head of Joey Drew Studios. At least, not until she’d arrived at Henry Stein’s house to offer reparations for what her brother had done. But this man, this man who was so much like her brother. She would give her secret to him.
“Drew?” The man’s eyes grew wide.
“There was a sign outside the door when I came in. It said ‘Johan Ramirez’. Is that your name?”
“I mean, yes, but most people call me Joey Drew.” The man, despite his tall stature, seemed to be trying very hard to make himself disappear.
“What would you like me to call you?”
“Johan would be fine.” He said, still very distressed. “How did you get here? No one is supposed to be able to find me.”
“I...I think I got lost. I was wandering out there,” She gestured to the void behind her. “And I heard you crying.”
“Lost?” Johan uncurled himself a bit, tilting his head to the side. “I-I suppose that makes sense. Getting lost is the only way anyone would find me.” Esther walked over to sit in front of him. She wanted to reach out and take his hand, to tell him it would be alright. But that would be strange. They were strangers. Weren’t they?
"What do you mean?” She asked. She knew she was asking a lot of questions. It was her nature. How she’d survived. Be persistent.
“It’s not important.” Johan shook his head, drawing into himself once more. “You should leave. I’m sure you have a home to get back to.”
“No.”
“Please.” He begged. “Whoever you are, you’re better off forgetting me and going back to wherever you belong.”
“I’m not leaving you.” She reached out and took his hand, holding it tight.
“You don’t even know who I am.”
“Then tell me.”
“I’m Joey Drew. That’s all you need to know.”
They stared at each other for a moment. Esther’s gaze was firm, unyielding. Johan’s was pleading and weary. Finally, Esther began to speak.
“My name is Esther Klein. My maiden name is Drew. I have a younger brother named Joey Drew, a husband named Robert, and two children named Rachel and Isaac. I’m quite certain now that I’m from a different dimension than you are.”
“Another dimension...” Johan echoed. “That...That does make sense. I’ve visited other versions of myself before.” Almost absentmindedly, he squeezed her hand tighter. She began rubbing her thumb over the skin of his hand, the way she had when she and Joey had been little.
“I was at the studio with my brother.” She continued. “To make sure there were no leftover traces of magic. I...touched something I probably shouldn’t have. Then I was here.”
“Did his studio fail too?” Johan asked. His gaze wandered around the office. Wherever they were now, it probably wasn’t in any studio in any world.
“It did.”
“I worked so hard.” Johan looked down at his hands, one on the desk and one holding Esther’s. “But Henry left. Everything fell apart.” He started to cry quietly. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to let it go. The studio was all I had! I just wanted Henry back!”
“I know.” She said. “My brother was the same way. He was always so stubborn. He could never admit defeat, no matter how bad things got. It was always the best and worst thing about him.” For a moment, they just watched each other, taking in each other’s presence. Then Johan quietly asked,
“Could you tell me more about him? Your Joey, I mean.”
“What do you want to hear?” She offered a small smile.
“Just...anything.” He shrugged slightly. “I want to know what kind of person he is. If he...made the same mistakes I did.” Esther instinctively squeezed his hand tighter, hesitating at the question.
“He...He was different when we were little.” She said, staring down at her hand in his. “He was such a happy little boy. He loved drawing more than anything. No matter what I was doing, he’d always come up and tell me about whatever story he was making up. I was never any good at drawing, but he wanted me to draw with him anyway.” She smiled wistfully. “I’m six years older, so there was always a bit of a divide between us, but I would have done anything for him. I beat up a lot of boys who bullied him.”
“It sounds like you were a good sister.” Johan smiled sadly.
“I wasn’t. Not good enough.” Her smile fell. “We both got older, we grew apart. I’m the oldest. I had a lot of responsibilities. And our parents had a lot of expectations for us. I followed what my parents wanted us to do. I went to college. I became a lawyer. But Joey...Joey wanted to be an artist.” She paused, pursing her lips. “They were worried about him. Starving artist is a term for a reason, after all. But he took their concern to mean that they didn’t believe in him. He started to believe that none of us thought he could do it. I'd just graduated law school, was working at a firm. I wasn’t there for him. I should have been there.” Tears were welling up in her eyes, decades of repressed guilt welling up.
“I’m sure you did all you could.” Johan jumped to reassure her. She shook her head, trying to hide her face.
“I should have been there. If he hadn’t run away, if he’d still had us, he wouldn’t have done all this.” Her throat felt tight.
“He...ran away?” This seemed to catch Johan’s interest, distracting him from the crying woman before him.
“He ran away from home after he graduated high school.” Esther took a deep, shaking breath, managing to calm herself a bit. “He wanted to go to an art college. And he went to one, evidently. That’s where he met Henry. Did you run away from home too?” Johan tensed, avoiding her eyes.
“I’d rather not talk about it.” He said.
“Well, alright.”
“So...Your Joey. Did he...Did he...Were the employees...” He started and stopped a few times as if he was trying to come up with the right words. She knew what he was trying to say, though.
“He sacrificed his employees, yes.” She replied. “Henry was able to fix things, but...They’ve all been left with scars.”
“I see.” Johan deflated a bit, sinking into his chair. Esther didn’t ask if he’d done that as well. She already knew what the answer was going to be, based on the look in his eyes.
“You were right before,” Esther said after a beat or two of silence. “I don’t know who you are. But you remind me of my brother.”
“Is that a good thing?” Johan asked with a weak laugh.
“You remind me of the brother I used to know. Before he grew to hate the world and everyone in it.” She continued. “You remind me of when he had hope.”
“I don’t have any hope left,” Johan replied, his smile vanishing once more. “I don’t even deserve hope. After what I’ve done...”
“We all make mistakes. What’s important is owning up to them and trying to fix them.” Esther remained calm. “If I can force my brother to do it, I can force you too. You may not be my actual brother, but I think you still qualify as a sibling.” She could see in his eyes that he was lonely. He was afraid and isolated and alone. And more than anything, she wanted to protect him. She wanted to enfold him in her arms the same way she had Joey when they’d been children and make all his problems go away. She just wanted to make everything better.
“Are you...You don’t seriously mean that, do you?” Johan’s face went red.
“I’m quite serious.”
“But I’m....I’m nothing.” Johan’s voice got quiet. “I’m worthless. No one would ever want to be related to me.” His free hand instinctively went to touch his back over his shoulder. She wanted to ask, but she knew better. There was obviously a story behind it, one that Johan likely didn’t want to tell. She would respect that.
“We don’t get to choose who we’re related to by blood,” Esther said. “But we get to choose who we want our family to be.” The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, or so they said. That was something Esther whole-heartedly believed in. The people of the studio may not have been related to each other by blood, but they were a family. They’d created a family.
Johan stared at her. Then he began to cry. Esther let go of his hand, standing up and walking over to wrap her arms around him and hold him close. She patted his shoulder, whispering comforting words. After a little bit, she started to sing a Hebrew lullaby her mother had sung to her when she’d been little. Johan calmed at her singing, at her touch. She carded her hands through his hair, the same way she did to her children when they were upset. The same way she did when Joey had come to her crying as children.
“You are not alone.” She whispered to him.
They stayed like for a long time. Neither wanted to let the other go. Esther knew deep down she’d have to leave eventually. He was right. She had a home and a family to go back to. She had her real brother to go back to. Someone had to look out for him, make sure he stayed on the right path. She would have to leave Johan by himself, leave him alone once more. She didn’t want him to be alone. She had a feeling he did bad things when he was alone. To himself. To others. But she had faith that he could be better.
“I need to go.” She finally said.
“I know.” He nodded, his hand on hers.
“I’ll find a way back to you.” They both knew it was a lie. She didn’t know how she’d come here. There was likely no way to recreate it. But she was still going to try.
“I hope you find your way home.” He smiled softly as she moved away from him. “I hope you can help your Joey.”
“I hope you can help yourself.” She replied. She stood in the doorway, staring out into the darkness. Then she stepped out, the door shutting behind her. Johan was alone once more. But for how long...that was uncertain.
.
Esther woke up to her brother frantically shaking her shoulders. There were tears in his eyes. When she opened her eyes, his face broke in a smile.
“Thank goodness!” He hugged her tightly. “I was so worried!” Esther didn’t ask what had happened. She didn’t want to know. Whether it had been a dream or not, that wasn’t what mattered.
“I’m sorry.” She smiled softly. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” The man she’d encountered in that void was still someone real. She was going to find him again. She wasn’t going to let him be alone. Not anymore.