Patpatpat
It was raining, not a full-on downpour but a good shower at the least. Bits of light were attempting to push their way through the clouds, washing everything in the soft pink light of dawn. Occasionally this light would win out and rays of yellow would shine through the rain, lighting up the glistening drops of water as if they were made of crystal. In much the same way, the clouds would cover up the light, and send the earth into a cool, calm darkness, where the only sign of rain was the constant pitter-patter that sang to the world. Even though it was in fact beautiful, the emptiness was not accustomed to such wetness, and was currently a muddy soup of debris and dirt.
7 didn't mind.
It had been two years since the world had ended, and three weeks since it began again. It had certainly been hard in the beginning. There were plenty of flash floods when the rain had began. They had had to find a high place to camp out at, which was no easy matter now that the Sanctuary had been burned to the ground. Bodies had floated past, horrified, restless looks on their mummified faces, reminding them about how easily everything could fall apart. How thankful they should be for being... together. Alive. Well. Hopeful, and a mass of other things. The twins sometimes would sit and watch them float by, occasionally throwing something towards the body respectfully, feeling sorry for the flame that had been snuffed out in its brightest blaze.
At one point a familiar piece of ink-stained cloth had floated by, the '6' on it's back barely legible from smudging. They had cried. There was time for crying, now.
7 remembered when there wasn't time for crying. It was worse to have no time to cry, no time to mourn. No time to remember those lost. They were just... soldiers, then. Loved ones, sure. But there was never any time to cry. It felt good to cry. Their tears had mingled with the rain water, swirling down the rooftops and shingles into the dangerous rush of floodwater below.
Times of sorrow were not all that they had run into, however. Just a week ago, 4 had found a flower. Its delicate blue petals had nearly all been ripped off from its frail green frame in the floodwaters. The plant had been completely finished off when 4 had ripped it from the ground and run back home with it clutched in her tiny hand. After that the twins learned to be more careful with anything they found. Soon there was moss popping up all over the place, clinging to walls, the ground, and even ceilings. It was amazing how fast the rain had affected everything, and everyone. The rain was a symbol of life to the strange little family, and they cherished it, and lived with the floodwaters. It wasn't so bad, certainly easier to survive than the mechanical monsters that had plagued the landscape such a short time ago.
There was one instance where 3 had almost become a victim of the churning brown waters. He had slipped and fell into the flood, only hanging on by one hand to the edge of a gutter. Though 7 and 9 had been able to drag him out of the rush of water before it had caused any permanent damage to his wiring, it was still a slap back to reality for the entire family. They realized how dependent they were on one another, and how easily they could unravel should anything happen to any one of them. Because of this, they spent almost all the time together. They slept in a basket of cloth, thankful for each other's company and protection, curling into one another's bodies. During the day they often scavenged for life, looking for anything, including the ever-growing population of moss. Sometimes 7 would teach the twins how to 'fish' for scrap of metal from the floodwaters. She attached an old fish hook to a piece of string and would swing it above her head before tossing it into the debris-filled river, and then dragging it back in. The twins would applaud for any bit that she managed to catch, be it a ratty scrap of cloth, or a shiny golden ring with a sparkling diamond set into it. 9 would sit back a little ways and smile warmly, laughing occasionally at the twin's eagerness, and looking intensely nervous whenever the childish creatures would try to 'fish' themselves. All would be well when the trio came back with their 'catch of the day' (usually consisting of junk, but one man's trash is indeed another's treasure), and they would settle down inside their makeshift home.
They were living in the remains of a three story building, with about two rooms per story. The first two floors had been completely ruined, but the upper story still remained in relatively good condition. The roof was, for the most part, slanted, so the rain ran off of it without pooling in any places. It was covered in red shingles that were almost completely intact, and so the inside was comfortably dry. There was a small section of the roof that was completely flat, and the family would quite often sit out on it and watch the world pass on by. The inside was a huge space for the stitchpunks, but would have been cramped for any humans living there. In fact the humans had been using it for storage save for one room they had rented out, and used as a bedroom. The bedroom was still being used as a bedroom, but the mattress and bedframe had been propped against the window in the war, so they simply used a laundry basket in the corner of the room for rest. The rest of the Home had been filled with things that the family found to their liking. There was a corner stacked to the roof with books for the twins, a box of useful items for 7, and a box of photos for 9.
Often in the middle of the night, 7 would sit out on the roof and look up at the stars. She had learned from the twins that the light from the stars took thousands of years to reach Earth, and often wondered if the stars they were looking at were the stars that had shone over humanity. It was a comforting idea, anyway. It was beautiful how the moon would shine on the water and set everything aglow, making it almost as bright as it would be during the day. Many times 7 would find herself sitting on the roof until early morning, when the sun began to come up.
Which brought her to where she was now, with the dawn just cracking and light peeking through the storm clouds, lighting every rain droplet up like a Christmas tree. She hummed a sad little tune to herself while watching things float by on the current. A white tire interested her, and she watched it bob downstream with mild intrigue. She shivered, and looked up at the sky, raindrops staining her vision.
"You're up early." came the whisper from behind her. 7 jumped frightfully and turned to watch 9 walking over to her. He sat himself beside her.
"Mmm." mumbled 7, turning her attention back to the rapidly passing floodwaters.
9 also watched the water swirling below them. " Still raining, I see." he noted.
"Yup." 7 said vaguely. There was a long period of silence as the pair stared into the almost black water, not really thinking about what they saw. It continued to rain, a steady pit-pat on the roofs of the city and the water.
"The twins are still asleep?" asked 7 after a while, laying her head on 9's shoulder sleepily.
9 nodded. "They're always asleep until the sun's up. How long have you been up?"
"A few hours." replied 7 with a yawn. "I couldn't sleep. There was lightning."
"So you went outside?" 9 chuckled.
7 punched his shoulder lightly. "Shut up." she laughed, before standing up. "I'm going back inside." the stitchpunk announced, offering a metallic hand to 9. "You coming?"
He took the hand and also stood up. With a curt nod, they walked back to the window, hand-in-hand. Cautiously they made a quick descent from the windowsill to an old desk, and from the desk to a pile of books, and from the books to the wooden floor. The dolls crept along a floorboard, careful not to step on any weaker, creaky bits. Even in their efforts of silence, each time they took a step there was the sound of a tiny metal foot hitting the wood.
Thwup. Thwup. Thwup.
7 grimaced, hoping the sound wouldn't wake up 3 or 4. After what seemed like ages they reached the bedroom and walked over to the laundry basket. The twins were still sleeping peacefully, curled up like cats, each holding the other's hands, and their heads gently touching one another's. 7 smiled lovingly at the duo, and climbed slowly into the basket, careful not to rock it in any way. She wrapped and old t-shirt around her body and fell asleep before she could think another thought, having become more exhausted than she had realized.
----
Flick flick flick!
7's optics flickered open slowly, rapidly trying to adjust to the light.
Flick!
Finally her eyes adjusted, and she realized the twins were crouched over her, flickering their eyes.
The familiar pattern of Good morning, Mom! she translated easily out of habit. "How high is the sun?" 7 asked drearily, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. 4 raised her arms high about her head until they were stretched upwards completely. "Midday, huh?" 7 said with a grin. The twins nodded and hopped easily out of the basket before running into the main room. 7 yawned and removed the covers from her body before following after the exuberant duo.
7 stepped into the main room, where 3 and 4 were already flipping hastily through a book, occasionally tearing the corners of pages. Light filtered through cracks in the building, casting shafts of grayish yellow light onto the floor. 9 was sitting with his photographs, looking at one photo in particular, with a look of sadness on his face. 7 stepped over to him, and sat beside him.
"When do you think it will stop raining?" 9 asked drearily, still staring at the photo. It showed a child with his pet dog, running around a grassy backyard with a frisbee in hand. 7 also peered at the worn photo with a frown.
Her gaze flickered to the floor, which was tainted green with age. "Soon, I think." she replied. "It can't rain too much longer. Things are just being... cleared out." At that moment 3 tore a page from the book the twins had been looking at and ran over to 7 and 9, with 4 in tow. He showed it to the more mature stitchpunks with an enthusiastic smile. On it was the story of Noah's Ark.
7 and 9 studied it with great interest. "Forty days of rain..." muttered 9 as he read. He looked up at the twins, who each had proud smiles on their little faces. "Is this true history?" The hooded dolls exchanged glances, before motioning for 9 and 7 to follow them. The family ran over to the book the twins had been studying and surveyed it. 4 flipped it to the cover of the book.
"The Bible, huh?" 7 mumbled. "I've seen it somewhere..... oh!" She snapped her fingers as she realized where she had seen this book before. "The Sanctuary had tons of these! They must've been important to humans."
"Huh." 9 said, as he flipped the pages. "Well it must be true, why else would they revere it?"
7 pursed her lips. "Could just be a belief, though."
"Who's The Lord?" 9 asked, ignoring her.
7 stared at the page, her gaze flickering from one page to the next. "Don't ask me. He had the power to make it rain that long though. Do you think he was a scientist?"
"I don't know." 9 replied vaguely. "'All in whose nostrils was the breath of the spirit of life, all that was on dry land, died.' That sounds like the Gas, just with water." he noted, reading a passage with interest.
"It says it took ten months for the waters to recede..." said 7, crestfallen. "But... this flooding that 'The Lord' created was much more catastrophic than these floodwaters, right?"
Whilst the more 'adult' stitchpunks were debating the floods, the twins continued reading. Suddenly 4 began pointing at a line with a bright grin on her face. It read: Then the dove came to him in the evening, and behold, a freshly plucked olive leaf was in her mouth. The twin then pointed to herself, and produced the wilted, crumbling flower she had found a week before. 3 gave a little clap.
7 and 9 simultaneously grinned. "Life is already returning..." 7 realized. She hoisted herself to her feet and swaggered across the rough wooden floor to her skullmet, and promptly placed it on her head. "...and it's our duty to assist in its revival." she finished with a grin. The twins applauded and ran behind her, gazing at 9 hopefully.
9 sighed. "Scavenging time, I presume?" he mumbled. The twins nodded eagerly, and 7 laughed.
"Scavenging time". 7 grabbed her 'fishing line' and carefully wrapped it around her arm to carry, and grabbed her trusty spear and shield. The twins grabbed their coin purse (which they used to store a bunch of random items, from bottle caps to moss), and 9 grabbed his light bulb staff. The family was set to travel. 9 opened the window and motioned for the twins and 7 to walk through. 7 gave a little nod of appreciation. Once the three had made it outside, 9 followed, securely shutting the window behind him. It was just sprinkling now, as 7 led the way across the rooftops. The sun had risen ever so slightly, giving the light a bright pink tone, and it swathed every building as if it were a glowing piece of linen.
7 carefully walked along a steel pipe that branched between two buildings, making sure it was safe for everyone to cross. She motioned for the twins to follow, 3 stumbling a bit on the slippery metal but coming safely across right behind his sister. 9 followed up the twins, and then they were off towards their next destination.
A low rumble from the sky announced that yet another bout of storm was approaching. 7 looked around, trying to decide which building they would enter. 4 suddenly began bouncing up and down and pointing at a gray concrete building, which looked like it had most likely kept out most, if not all, of the flood thus far. 7 nodded and grabbed 3's hand as they carefully began descending a level to get to the concrete building. Once at the bottom of the next story down, where the water was lapping hungrily directly below them, 7 stared up worriedly at 4 and 9 who were still descending the rubble. She then looked out to the concrete building across the street, and debated the best way to get there, gnawing on her lip nervously.
"7, look." shouted 9 over the sound of water. He pointed a copper finger at a fallen powerline that draped at an angle over the floodwaters. It began to rain more heavily, making the roofs dangerously slippery. There was no time for hesitation.
7 gripped 3's hand more firmly in her own and then began rushing across the rooftop towards the huge wooden pole. 9 was close behind, holding 4's hand in his. She picked up 3 easily, shifting her spear beneath his weight, and started to run across the powerline pole. 9 was more cautious, carrying 4 slowly across the man-made tree trunk whilst using his staff to steady himself. The rain was relentless, however, blowing into 9's optics and throwing shards of ice at him He rubbed a metal hand at the glass uselessly, and slowed his pace even more, unable to see his own feet.
"Keep moving!" shouted 7 somewhere in front of him. 9 grunted, squinting through the rain-spattered glass.
Then his foot slipped.