One felt as if his entire world was ending. He wanted to die. As the others stared at him, or glared in Seven's case, he had to use all his willpower to not let out a sob. Two looked ashamed and hurried over to soothe the situation over. But One knew that nothing Two could say would help. One turned and sprinted to his room. He was alone for three seconds.

"One!" Two gasped, bursting in without knocking.

"Go away, fool!" One spat, spinning around and backing away.

He tripped and almost fell. His hat crashed to the ground, but he didn't pick it up. Two advanced, looking properly abashed.

"One, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"You sure sounded like you meant it!" One snapped, holding his staff in front of him protectively. "So how long have you been talking about me behind my back?!"

"One, please!" Two said, moving closer.

One made a dash for freedom, shoving Two away. Two grabbed One's cape, and One jerked back, gasping. He clawed for the broach holding the cape together and managed to unclasp it. He ran as fast as he could to the secret passageway. He was out and running through the wreckage in less than three minutes. He ran until he couldn't run anymore then collapsed and let out his pain in heart-wrenching sobs. He didn't know how long he was lost in his misery, but he came to himself to feel hands massaging the sides of his head.

One shot up, ready to sock Two in the face…but it wasn't Two. Or anybody else he knew. One found himself staring into a face with a simple design. His optics were trained on One's. One was immediately afraid, so he became mean.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded, reaching over to grab his staff.

"Hello One. I am Nine."

One paused. "Your mouth didn't move."

"I cannot speak as you do. I am speaking with my mind. It's called microbursting."

One couldn't help but be interested, so he slowly lowered the staff a little bit. "Really?"

"Yep." Nine paused. "Why exactly are you out here? You never come out here alone."

"I…" One trailed off. Could he trust Nine? Well, he thought as he studied the younger, he'd already seen him at his weakest. "Two said some things," One finally said. "It upset me."

"I see. What did he say?"

"I…I don't want to think about it," One muttered, looking hurt.

Nine's face softened and he caressed One's cheek. "You're not a worthless leader, One. I promise you're not. You just are so insecure that you're afraid to be the leader you could be."

One froze. "How did you know he said that?"

"I was watching the whole thing."

"How?"

"There's a crawlspace that goes all over your home. I can watch what's going on in any room."

"You've been spying on us?!" One gasped.

"Yes."

One didn't think he knew a word bad enough to call Nine. How dare he spy on them! It wasn't right and he told the younger Stitchpunk that.

Nine shrugged. "It gives me something to do other than sit around all day. Besides, I can't really use the information for anything, and there aren't any other Stitchpunks to tell, so…"

One frowned. He was right of course, but there was one thing bothering him. "Why didn't you just come out and show yourself to us?"

"Well…I'm a little shy," Nine admitted. "And you all seem so content just with yourselves that I don't see any need to ruin your family with a freak like me."

One stared at him. "Have you not seen Six?"

"Yes. I would like to meet him one day, but I don't want him to touch me."

"Yes, his fingers are rather sharp, but he's an extremely gentle creature, I assure you."

Nine smiled tightly. "Of course."

One began to play with the bell on his staff before reality caught up with him. He was sitting in the Emptiness talking freely to a Stitchpunk he'd just met. The look on his face must have betrayed his thoughts, because Nine's shoulders shook with laughter.

"Odd day?"

"Very. You know, I never thought to hear that from Two. Seven, yes, but Two? We've known each other the longest. I thought we were frie…Well, I thought we were close."

"I would like to be your friend, if you don't mind."

One paused. It was an appealing thought to have a friend…

"Well, I suppose if you want to, but I have a question first."

"Shoot."

One suddenly looked very vulnerable. "I…did you really mean what you said, you know, about my leadership?"

Nine smiled warmly. "Of course. You just need a little work, that's all. And I'm more than willing to help. But it's up to you, ultimately, to break free of your insecurities. Like wearing that hat and that cape. I'm glad you're not right now."

"Not what?"

"Wearing them."

One's hand immediately leaped to his head. All he felt was his own little poof. He was humiliated, pressing both hands over it and looking anywhere but at Nine. Nine placed his hands on One's and gently peeled them away to reveal the tuft of fabric. He forced One to look at him.

"There's nothing wrong with it, One. Relax. I'm not going to laugh at you, okay? I can't promise I'll never laugh at you, but I won't do it to be mean. I swear it on the maker."

One couldn't help but feel better at that. He smiled softly. Nobody, not even Two, had said anything like that to him. It made a happy little flower bloom in his chest. He suddenly felt the need to hug Nine, but what would the younger think? They'd just met…

"Oh, screw it," One grumbled and wrapped his arms tightly around Nine.

Nine's shoulders shook again even as he happily embraced One. "See? You're already shaking off your insecurities!"

They talked for hours, Nine listening to One's feelings about pretty much everything. He didn't mind though. It was nice to help. As the sun began to set, One grew quiet.

"You don't want to go back tonight, do you?"

"No."

"Well…we could take shelter in a house."

"Sounds good," One muttered. "Which one?"

"Follow me," Nine said, taking up a spear.

One did so, gripping his staff tightly and looking around at the ruins around them. If he didn't know any better, he would say they were being followed by a machine. They got to the house and he and Nine climbed the high flight of stairs. One was panting by the time they were done, but he gasped as they went into a room on the second floor.

"The Awakening Room!"

"What?"

"This is the room we all woke up in. We never could find it."

"Oh. Well, here it is!" Nine exclaimed, throwing his arms out wide.

One snickered then yawned. "I'm exhausted."

"Come. We shall sleep on Maker's bed."

One and Nine crawled up the blanket to the top of the bed. They settled on a fluffy pillow. One set his staff down then curled up. Nine pressed close beside him, draping his arm over the eldest's side. One thought about getting on to him, but decided it was nice. Relaxing proved easier than he thought it was going to be. He never relaxed around anybody. But Nine…he was different. Contentedly, One drifted off to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

One woke up and immediately felt embarrassed. He was half wrapped around Nine, his face buried in the younger's neck. He moved slowly, trying to untangle himself without being noticed.

"Good morning One."

One flinched and hurriedly scooted away from Nine, unable to look at him.

"You're so shy about needing to be close to people. I'm not angry at you, you know. I think it's nice. I like snuggling while I sleep. It makes me feel safe."

One glanced at him for the first time and immediately his head snapped up.

"Hey! That's my staff! Give it back!"

"Boy, that distracted you," Nine commented, handing One the staff bottom first, as if it were sharp on the other end.

One hugged the staff to himself, making the bell jingle.

"Why do you have a bell on it? Doesn't that take away a lot of your sneaking ability?"

"Sneaking? I don't sneak. That's Seven's job. And Three and Four's, but they don't do it out in the Emptiness."

"Yes they do."

"What?" One looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

"They sneak off to the library about once a month to read a bit. Their conversations are wonderfully enlightening. They are quite smart."

"You can't understand their conversations. They flash at each other."

"I can flash, too. I just have nobody that understands me when I do so. So I learned to microburst. I can also do some sign language. And you changed the subject. Why do you have a bell on the end of your staff? So the others know you're coming?"

"No…" One looked embarrassed again. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Let me put it this way, One. Either you can tell me, or I will read your mind."

"What?" One frowned and looked down. "I don't want to tell you. It sounds silly."

"Still waiting."

"Fine! It makes me feel more in charge," he said quickly, as if to get it over with faster. "And I have no idea why, so don't ask!"

"So it's a power symbol for you and the other Stitchpunks. Interesting."

"Yes, well…" One muttered. "It's the same with the cape."

"But not the hat?"

"No. The hat's to hide my…oddity."

"You're quite insecure about that little poof."

"Nobody else has one and Two…he kept smiling and touching it. He even laughed once!"

"It's endearing, One. And I would like your permission to touch it."

Every instinct One had was screaming against him telling Nine yes. He sat back and thought about it. Nine seemed different from all the other Stitchpunks. He didn't expect him to be perfect or know everything or be a fighter. Nine seemed content with how One was without all the pressures of leadership, which was all the elder had ever wanted. Not that he didn't enjoy being a leader, but they expected so many things of him that…well, that he didn't enjoy being a leader. He didn't know how to deal with everything they wanted.

"One? You can say no if you want."

One looked up and spilled his thoughts out to Nine, as he had the day before, but these thoughts were much more personal. When he was done, Nine looked thoughtful.

"I'd like to show you something. Follow me."

One did so and they climbed up onto the desk in the main room. Nine grabbed a small, by human standards, book and dragged it to the center of the desk. He flipped it open and turned several pages in. One stood there watching him. Nine found what he was looking for and stood back, gesturing to the open book.

"Read."

One did so and found himself immersed in Two's personality. Some of his quirks were quite obvious even through the pages. Several words made him pause. 'He's even more curious than One was…'

"Who wrote this?"

"Maker."

One stepped back in surprise. "He paid attention to us? But…he was so busy!"

"What father has no time for his children?"

One read each page carefully, up to Eight. Then the writings abruptly stopped. One gasped, and flipped through several more.

"They're empty!"

"Yes."

"B-but there's nothing in here about you!"

"I know."

One frowned. "So I guess I have to figure you out."

Nine laughed, his shoulders shaking. "Of course!"

"But you know what Maker wrote about me."

"I do. But I also know you because I studied your behaviors and quirks from above for three and a half years."

"What did you do before then?"

Nine looked steadily at him then walked over to the Transfer Device. There, in front of it, was a coiled up piece of cable. He picked it up.

"To answer your question, there was no before then for me. This," he said, holding up the cable. "Was attached to my wrist. It snapped from the top of the Transfer Device and I was dropped onto the desk. The jolt was enough to wake me up. From what I gather from some of your recent talks with Two, you've been alive for about eight and a half years. I have only been alive for the three and a half I mentioned. I am much younger than all of you."

"Yet you seem to be the most mature."

Nine blinked at him. "I…er…inherited a lot of Father's personality, maturity-wise. I also got all of his memories."

One paused, scrutinizing him. "Memories?"

"Yes. I see flashes of his life sometimes. In my dreams," Nine added quickly. "It's interesting."

"Then I have a question for you."

"I might have an answer."

"There's this girl. She's very beautiful. She's got tan skin and freckles all over her arms, shoulders, and face. Her hair is golden brown. Her eyes are green. She is rather curvy when she is older, but gangly when she's young. She has a pleasure inducing laugh and when she cries, I do, too. Her voice is soft and melodic when she sings, but when she speaks it's loud and attention getting. She also has this strange quality to her voice, an accent that I can't place. Is she a part of Maker's memories?"

Nine had an odd look on his face. "One, I…I…Maker wouldn't want me to answer that."

"Maker isn't here now is he?"

"Well…no. But—"

"Is she a part of Maker's memories?!" One bellowed.

Nine jumped and looked around. He sighed and his shoulders slumped. "She is."

"Who is she?"

"She's Maker's sister. She died long before the war, when she was still young."

"I see her in my dreams. What accent is that, anyway?"

"Southern American. She and Maker lived together on the plains of Oklahoma and they both had accents growing up."

"Maker didn't have an accent. I remember his voice."

"He was made fun of a lot when he came here, so he schooled his voice so that he lost it."

"Oh. I wouldn't have minded an accent on him." One paused. "What's her name?"

"One please, Father really doesn't like me talking about this."

"Her name. Now."

"Maryanna. She was the light of Father's life. When she died…he lost a part of himself."

"How did she die?"

Nine shook his head. "No. Father doesn't like this topic of conversation. I'm not telling you that. I'd never tell you that."

"Why not?"

"One, I'd rather show you if I had to. Two, that topic leads to something Father did that you would be horrified about. You are not getting me to talk about this anymore. Change the subject."

One was about to argue, but there was a look on Nine's face that changed his mind.

"Um, alright. Why do you call Maker Father? You keep switching back and forth between those names."

Nine relaxed. "I call him Father most of the time. It's a name he prefers, but none of you picked it up. I only called him Maker to make you comfortable."

One nodded. "Oh. I do recall him telling me to call him 'Father' multiple times. Maker seemed more appropriate." There was a pause. "Do you have all of Maker…I mean, Father's memories?"

"Which ones do you want? I'll see if I have 'em."

"Of him making us."

"I do indeed."

One looked sad. "Why?"

Nine frowned. "I'm not sure. It is said of the last Stitchpunk a human makes—"

"No, no, not that."

"Then what?"

"Why did he let us go? Why did he abandon us in the world? Why didn't he keep us close? Just…why?" One's voice was utterly broken.

"He wanted you to have a chance at life. He hoped against hope that you all would find each other, and you did. You built a life together in the ruins of humanity. You're thriving. Yes, you have arguments amongst yourselves, but you are a family. A family who loves each other, despite their differences."

"They're a family," One sighed, sitting down.

"What?"

"The other Stitchpunks. They're a family. I'm not a part of it."

"Why not?"

"They just don't want me to be. I'm the mean leader who takes away privileges and makes their lives miserable."

"They need a leader, One. More than they realize."

One sniffled. "They'd get rid of me if they could."

"Then they'd see how much they need you. Come on. It's time you go back home."

One frowned, but knew that Nine was right, so they walked back to a place where One knew the way. Nine grabbed his arm then stood there looking shy.

"Please don't tell them about me. I don't want…I mean, they most certainly wouldn't want to meet me."

"I'd say they'd love to, especially Two and Five. But I won't. I'm going to be selfish. They already think I am, so I might as well prove them right."

Nine laughed. "When I'm watching you, I'll hang a small corner of my blue cloak down in between the boards. When you see that, make this gesture," Nine said, showing One with his hands, "and I'll know you want to meet me in the Emptiness. Okay?"

"Alright. Goodbye for now, I suppose."

Nine smiled kindly and reached over to clap his hand on One's shoulder when he suddenly jerked his head down to stare at the ground. To One's immense surprise and concern, there was a flash of light from Nine's optics, brighter than what he knew the flashes were supposed to be. Nine stood very still for a moment. When he looked up, there was sheer panic on his face. He tore out of One's hands, which had grabbed him to steady him, and sprinted behind a piece of rubble. One was about to go after him when there was a cry.

"One! Oh, thank the Maker!"

One spun around. "Two! What kind of demon has possession of you today?! You're not supposed to be out in the Emptiness without permission!"

Two embraced him, holding him close. "Forgive me, One! I didn't mean what I said. I was irritated and tired and I wasn't pleased that you told me I couldn't go out and look for the piece I needed."

One stood there stiffly. "Fine. I forgive you," he said. His tone said he clearly didn't. Two drew back and looked into his optics.

"One, please! I'm sorry. I really am."

"I said I forgive you!" His tone betrayed his true feelings again.

Two looked like he was going to cry. One knew he would be if it were possible. But, the elder Stitchpunk was still wounded by the younger's words. He jerked out of Two's arms and strode back home. When they got up to their sanctuary, One scanned the ceiling, not expecting to see anything. But there, right above his throne, hung a piece of cloth. It was a deep, dark blue. How in the world did Nine beat him up?

"Don't stare, One. They'll wonder what it is."

One jolted at the voice in his head then looked down immediately to his throne. He walked over, brushing off Two's concerned questions, and sat down, leaning his staff on the throne beside him. Two disappeared and came back with One's adornments. One was surprised that he hadn't automatically demanded them. Being with Nine had made him forget about his needs to show his power and to hide his oddity. He stood and quickly put them on, settling back down when he had adjusted them to his satisfaction.

"One? Please?" Two sounded like a child begging for its father's forgiveness.

One didn't respond other than waving his hand dismissively. Two slunk off to his workshop with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

"Wow. You really are mad at him."

"You heard what he said to me," One muttered, thinking only himself could hear it. He sat bolt upright when Nine responded.

"Yes. That doesn't mean you can stay mad at him forever, though."

"H-how?!"

"I'm in your head. You can just think your replies and I'll hear you. No need to speak out loud."

One settled back and stared up at the ceiling, frowning. "So…like this?"

"Exactly! I'll have to teach you to use your own mental energy to do this, but for now I'll help you."

"Only until you don't want to talk anymore," One challenged.

"Or you don't. I won't impose myself on you. Besides, I'm only going to be here for a couple hours. I have somebody to worry about me like Two worries about you. Without a long distant mental assurance in the middle of the night last night, he'd be out looking for me."

One's interest was piqued. "Oh really? And just who would this 'friend' be?"

Nine was silent for two whole minutes. "His name is Jasper."

"A human?!" One almost yelled it out loud. "There are some humans that are still alive?!"

"Yes." Nine said blandly. "If you listened to Six, you'd know that there are colonies of humans all over the planet. They're rebuilding and fighting the remnants of the Walkers and other machines."

"You mean he sees them in his…"

"Visions. And dreams. Yes. But Jasper's the only human around here, and Six has never seen him. He's very mysterious, you know, and very secretive about you and the others. He doesn't want to meet you."

"Why not?" One asked, looking irritated.

"Because he doesn't want to interrupt your lives. You're just fine without him, and the others are just fine without me. Although…" Nine's thoughts had a thoughtful tone to them, which made One wonder how they were even getting tones to their words.

"Although what?"

"If I wasn't so shy, I could help Five out, too. Maybe I can do that through you."

"What exactly would that entail?" One asked suspiciously.

"Sneakily building his self-confidence and encouraging him to try out some of his own ideas. And then there's Six…"

"Six?"

"He has horrible nightmares. And nobody comes to him when he cries out in the night. I know you all hear him. One night they were so bad that I wiped his memories. He slept peacefully after that. And Eight needs to be encouraged to play nice with the others, especially Six. Seven needs to stop stuffing her more vulnerable feelings away only to block them with anger toward you. Three and Four…well, they're complicated. If they knew what microbursting was, they would be able to communicate with you all much better. But there's no way for you to show them what it is without mentioning me, so they're on their own."

"You forgot Two." One was fascinated by the information he was getting. He had honestly never thought of their problems like that, though it was common knowledge. Nobody mentioned them out loud. Ever. They were acknowledged only when they had to be. Nine was asking him to begin fixing them, which was a scary prospect. To hit some weak spots, the spots they never wanted anybody to bring up… "So…Two?"

"Two is different. He has self-confidence. He can handle his own nightmares. He speaks openly about most of his emotions and he gets along with everybody as best as can be expected. He is kind and gentle."

"You said most of his emotions."

"See that's the thing. He doesn't want to talk bad about anybody. He really doesn't. But he does have negative feelings that he refuses to unleash. And now, the one time he actually says something to let off some steam, you catch him talking about you and you don't forgive him."

"Well why in the world won't he just talk to somebody about his feelings?" One demanded.

"Because you never listen."

"One?"

One jolted up. His optics had been shuttered without his realizing it. Eight was standing in front of him.

"Huh? What is it?" One tried to hide the shakiness in his voice.

"You've been sitting like that for a while. If you're tired, you should go lie down."

"I…I believe you're right. Thank you."

One hurried to his room, Nine's words still buzzing around his head. Two didn't talk because One didn't listen? That didn't make sense. Or at least, he didn't want it to make sense. Two was such a kind soul that he knew Nine had been correct in everything he'd said about the second born. And One could think of a reason that Two would only talk to him. Out of all of the Stitchpunks besides the twins, they were the closest. Or…they had been.

Over the years, One had dismissed him as a friend and saw him as more of a subject. He'd done this because as the Stitchpunks' relationships had grown more complicated, more troubles had arisen for him as a leader. His insecurities had crept up inside, and he had put off talking about it, not for days, nor weeks, or even months. But years. He hadn't wanted to talk to Two about them, not wanting to burden him. But every time One saw him, his mind screamed for relief from the thoughts plaguing it. So he had pushed Two away, his insecurities mocking him that he would only be laughed at by his dearest friend. Yet…

"Nine?"

"Yes, One?"

"Why did I tell you all that stuff when I can't tell Two any of it?"

"Because sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger."

"What do I do?" One was sitting up in bed, his knees drawn to his chest, his arms folded on his knees, and his head buried in his arms.

"Do you really want my advice?" One nodded. "Talk to him. You don't have to spill everything, like you did with me, but tell him you want to be close again. Then…" Nine paused until One looked up at the ceiling. "Listen." Nine sighed. "I must go now. Jasper's demanding that I get home."

"Thank you, Nine. I mean it."

One felt Nine's smile, but got no other response. One flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He drifted into a light rest and woke at a cry. He quickly righted his hat and his cape and hurried into the main room. Eight was holding one of Six's drawings in the air, taunting him. One stopped dead as Nine's words about playing nice beat across his mind. Eight moved as if he was going to tear it and One saw a look of abject terror appear on Six's face.

"Stop!" Two exclaimed.

"Give it back!" Seven snapped.

"Eight."

One hadn't shouted like the other two had, but his was the only voice Eight obeyed. The large Stitchpunk froze and everybody turned to stare at One. One understood why. He never got onto Eight for teasing Six. Ever. But he couldn't let Eight rip that drawing apart, like he had with countless others.

"One?" Eight asked.

"Give Six his drawing back."

"B-but…" Eight looked extremely confused.

"Are you going to disobey a direct order?"

Eight shook his head emphatically and lowered the drawing into Six's outstretched hands.

"Good. Now, you are to…play nice with Six. No more tearing up his drawings."

Eight nodded, but his face broadcast confusion. His wasn't the only one. One was incredibly uncomfortable at their stares. Even Six was looking at him like he had a second head. One shifted then cleared his throat.

"Two."

"Yes?"

One found himself suddenly unable to speak, so he gestured for Two to follow before waving his hand dismissively at everybody else. A minute later, they sat on the bed in One's room. Two was staring at him curiously. One still couldn't talk, so nervous that it was more like fear. Two finally hummed.

"What made you stop Eight?"

"What?" One's mind scrambled to catch up with reality. "Oh, well…I just got to thinking about how it isn't really fair to Six. Six seems to suffer enough as it is. He doesn't need Eight adding to his misery." It wasn't a full lie. It wasn't really a lie at all. Nine had simply guided his thoughts.

"I see. What did you want me for?"

Muteness again. One suddenly wished that Nine was there to beam his thoughts directly into Two's mind. He sighed and took his hat off, setting it aside. Two placed a hand on his.

"One?"

"Ugh!" One finally exclaimed, flopping back onto the bed. "Why can't I talk to you anymore!"

Two looked surprised. "Well…we haven't had much practice in quite some time. You're always a bit of a jackass when it comes to talking to people." Two's hands flew to cover his mouth. "I…I mean…"

"I agree."

Two stopped stammering and looked hard at him. "You-you do?"

"Yes. And not only am I a jackass, I am a fool."

Two was stunned. One rarely cursed and had forbidden everybody else from doing so. So 'fool' was the greatest insult that One bestowed upon the Stitchpunks. To hear the eldest refer to himself as a fool was shocking. Two just sat there staring for about three minutes. One finally raised his head and looked directly at him.

"Stop gawking and just lay down."

Two laughed, relieved and genuinely amused. He jumped back and bounced once before settling beside One. They lay there in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"I do forgive you, by the way."

Two sat up, hope written all over his face. "Really?"

"I was angry, Two. I'm still a little offended, but…what else are you holding back?"

Two looked embarrassed and quickly settled back on the bed, turning his face away from One. "Nothing."

"Two…" One paused then sat up, reaching over to tilt Two's face toward him. "It's not healthy."

"What isn't?" Two looked confused.

"Holding in all that...I don't know what to call it. Irritation? Anger? Discontent?"

Two sat up, looking suspicious. "Where is all of this coming from?"

"What?"

"I say those bad things about you. You run off into the Emptiness. You stay out all night, managing to stay safe. I find you and you refuse to forgive me. You sit looking out of it in your throne then Eight sends you to your room, where you spend the next two hours." Two stopped.

"So?"

"That's when you start acting weird. First," Two said, talking over One's attempt at words. "You stop Eight from destroying Six's drawing, something you've never done before. Then, you call me into your room. You say that you forgive me. Now you're playing doctor with my emotions?!"

Two had leaped up during his speech and was pacing the floor. He stopped directly in front of One and leaned in close.

"If you were a human, I'd say it was drugs or alcohol. But you're a Stitchpunk. We don't have drugs or alcohol. So now I ask you, what's wrong with you?"

"I've just been thinking," One said softly, which was the truth.

"Thinking." Two didn't look like he was buying it. "You thought all of this up by yourself."

"Um…"

"Aha! So where did you get it from?"

One stared at Two and said the only thing that wouldn't have revealed Nine. "I had a few dreams."

Two's optics were suddenly dilated. "You…you told me a long time ago that you didn't have those dreams anymore."

"I know."

"You…lied to me."

"You thought I was crazy."

"I thought it was strange. I didn't think you were crazy anymore than I think Six is crazy."

"The others looked at me differently. You started looking at me differently. So I told you they stopped. I still have them occasionally."

"Oh, One," Two sighed, sitting down and wrapping his arms around the upset Stitchpunk. One pressed close. "You shouldn't have lied. You're perfectly sane, and you're still my friend."

One sighed. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

Two laughed softly. "That we do."

"We can start by me actually looking at your latest work and learning about it," One said, standing and grabbing his hat. "And this time I'll actually pay attention."

Two laughed again, leaping to his feet and walking out of the room with One.

"Don't forget to scowl," Two whispered.

One swatted Two's arm and fought back a smile. "I should put dirty water in your mouth for cursing earlier. That is the punishment, you know."

Two snickered. "You're still a jackass."

"And you're old," One shot back. They both laughed, but One grew serious as he passed Seven, who slammed her shoulder into his. He was on the way with fixing things with Two, but the others were a different story…