Mable: I wrote this back during 'Seventh Degree Burns', but never posted it. Before the worst is assumed, this one, though involving 1 and 9, is not a 1x9 fic. I do plan to do more 1x9 in the future after I work on the next big Stitchpunk project that should be coming in August. I am also going to upload 'Chance' tonight at some time. Anyway, I don't own 9, Enjoy!
Nightly Visitor
It was a quiet night and the candles had been blown out to leave the rooms in complete darkness. A cold chill overtook the Sanctuary and reached through the outside house into the actual home itself. However, with warm covers, and an equally warm bed, the night was actually quite fine. Especially for One who soon had his arms wrapped around his mate's waist and let the warmth fill his body pleasantly. Winter wasn't too pressing even with the thick snow that most likely fell from the dark clouds that hung in the sky.
One had faced quite a few winters before and had made sure to be diligent in making sure that all of the others were safely in bed and under their own blankets. Not that anyone wanted to stay awake and stay out in the chilled area instead of being in bed. Or, at least, that's what One told himself, up until he was disturbed by the sound of footsteps outside his room. He pushed it away as Six just sneaking into Eight's room and nestled into his mate's neck until he was disrupted again. Now by the curtain on his door being pushed open.
"One?" Of course it had to be Nine. The foolish youth was always spiting One and the Stitchpunk huffed a bit, "Yes Nine?" He tried to keep calm; maybe Nine would be quick and then leave. "I…" Nine started before sighing, "I can't sleep." The older grumbled a bit, "Perhaps you would have better luck if you were in your bed." He insisted and the younger suddenly spoke what he really wanted, "One, we need to talk, please." With that, One believed that Nine had crossed enough of a line that he could be firm and disgruntled.
"If you have not cared to notice," One began and sat up, "It is the middle of the night. Some of us would like to spend our night sleeping." Nine nodded, "I know, but it's important. I can't sleep until we do this." Finally One gave in and tore down the blankets to climb out of bed viciously and grabbed up his cape before throwing it on. He then put on his crown and grasped his staff before leaving the room rapidly to follow Nine who now was heading into the throne room.
The leader silenced whatever scolding he had planned when he noticed exactly how Nine looked. There was something odd about him. He looked surprisingly upset, grasping his arm almost shyly, and staring at the floor with shame. "What is this about, Nine?" The question seemed to cause the Stitchpunk to grow even more uneasy and he spoke softly, "It's about…" He looked at the event window, "It's about the freezing outside. Snow, I think? Yeah, the snow, the snow is concerning me."
One knew better and came up until he was beside Nine's side. There was a silence that neither really enjoyed as they stood by the vent that let in the icy air. "No." One suddenly broke in, "No, that is not what is bothering you." At this the burlap one sort of laughed a little, humorless mostly, maybe nervous. "You're right. That's not it." The leader gave a quick nod, "You could see through your excuse like a window. What is bothering you?" One wasn't one to take on other's problems, but was certainly one to know what everyone was thinking at all times.
"Well…" Nine started slowly, and then clutched his hands to his head, "I can't get over it." One huffed, "Nine, I am not omniscient, you must complete your sentence and thought or we are going in complete circles." This encouraged the zippered one, "I can't get over the Machine Incident. I know it was months ago and everyone's okay now, but I just can't get over it." He looked away, "It was my fault… My fault and there's no fixing it. I can't turn back time and I can't fix what I did."
That was it. That was the issue. One felt a second of kinship with Nine. He couldn't say it took him some time recovering from the sheer mental strain of rebuilding everything and the feeling of defenselessness that came with knowing it could happen again. His features softened a bit and he started, "Nobody blames you for what happened, Nine. We have all moved on. The memories will always be there, but eventually you will be able to get past it and-."
"I can't get past it." Nine corrected, "It was my fault, I blame me, I know what I did, it was all my fault." His voice grew louder and shakier with each word before falling flat, "And I can't forget it." Still, One pressed, "You can blame yourself as much as you want, but you will have to move on. It is over, Nine, it is dead and we are alive." The other winced when he mentioned death before murmuring, "I just wish I could do something to make up for it. Anything."
"You did." One insisted, "When you decided to stop resisting me being leader." Nine huffed, "How was I supposed to let you be leader after all those things you said?" One glared, "I say many things. There are also many things I don't say. Such as, as being just born you could not have possibly been old enough to think completely rationally, and that I should have watched you better. Perhaps this is my fault that this happen. I certainly played a part, I made a few mistakes, but I must move on so that the others will move on."
There was a short second where they stayed quiet before One spoke again. "When I was young, only a few days old, I decided to look at what was on the Scientist's workbench while he was absent." Nine looked over suddenly, "You knew him?" The leader huffed, "Let me finish." He paused, "Where was I?" He knew, he just wanted to make sure Nine was listening. "You said that you wanted to look on the Scientist's workbench because he wasn't there."
"Yes." One nodded, "I saw some cloth hanging from the top and guessed he had been cleaning something that he spilt before he left. Perhaps ink, maybe coffee, either way I climbed up to the cloth and tugged upon it. It felt firm and instead of testing such I let all my weight upon it. At this time the cloth began to slide and I fell to the ground. The fall was not far and I hit the ground, but I was fine. That is, until the cloth brought with it a box of items that also fell. Instead of being crushed, I managed to simply be trapped under the box; thank everything that it was not filled."
He glanced at Nine, he was still listening, "I was trapped under the box, though, not strong enough to lift the box, and I began to panic. I was too young to know that this could have happened beforehand and because I was young I couldn't rationalize a way to escape. Instead I just screamed for help for a good few minutes. If I was as I am now I would have moved past everything and forced the side up enough to slip underneath. I was young, though, my youth played against me."
"How did you escape?" Nine asked curiously and One continued, "It felt like an eternity passed before the box was lifted. Naturally it was Father who rescued me from my ordeal. I learned to be more careful from that experience." He then closed his optics in thought, "Sometimes I fail to remember that you didn't have the same experiences. You never had what I was allowed to have with him, so it would be natural that you wouldn't have learned the same lessons that I have, and you would not know the same risks."
Nine watched him briefly before pointing something out, "You called him 'Father'." One paused wistfully, "Yes. I suppose I did." The younger looked down to the floor, "Sometimes I wish I could've known him better. All I have is a message from him and all I know is that he's just the Scientist who created us. It would've been nice just to know a little more… Maybe he would've been able to tell me why he put so much faith into me. I don't even think he realized what I would do."
"You were the last." One explained, "Eventually there would have to be a final Stitchpunk he would create and then he would pass. He knew it, I knew it, it was common knowledge. We were sure Eight was the last one, we were sure Seven was, Six, Five; it was going to happen. But he gave his life to you rather than giving it to the Machines." Nine felt a hand on his shoulder, "We have another chance and we have to accept that as a gift, even if it comes with some sort of price."
The gesture held a lot more than just a touch. One had never been very kindly to Nine, but right now it was like he was completely different, and it made Nine feel better. This is what he had needed the entire time, acceptance. He leaned over against the leader a bit and could feel the older's arm slide around his shoulders. He welcomed the gesture gladly. After a brief period One began to pull Nine back towards the hall, "You need to get some rest." Nine nodded in agreement and realized exactly how exhausted he really was.
At One's door, Nine spoke, "I can go the rest of the way. Thanks, One." One was dismissive, "I'm sure you could have found the hall on your own." Nine stared blankly and One spoke again, "Some things needed saying. Perhaps it will ease you. I don't want to see you out here this late again though." He pushed the curtain to his room open, "Perhaps you and I should keep this between us, though. I would not want the others coming into my room late at night wanting me to tell tales."
Nine was smiling wide, looking quite pleased, and One was slightly quizzical, but offered something new, "Feel free to return if you have more things you need to voice, as long as it is not tonight because I do have to get some rest." Still, Nine was smiling a lopsided smile, and the leader entered his room, still keeping the curtain open. He looked back to see Nine still standing there and asked, "What exactly is so amusing that you must stand there with that smug smile?"
The other retorted with a question, "How long have you been sleeping in bed with Two?"
One retorted again by letting the curtain fall in Nine's face.
END
Mable: Because 1 should have known not to let 9 anywhere near his room. Expect more in the near future, I hope you enjoyed!