Here's an old one that I finished. :)

There was a jolt so hard that the being couldn't ignore it. He, for the being was male, felt that he had a body and slowly pushed himself up. His hand touched his right optic as he tried to get his bearings. Oh! He had a hand! He flexed the fingers, watching them bend. His optics slid down to the opening on his front. He parted the fabric to see moving parts. Curious, he reached in.

"No!"

The being looked up to see a creature about as big as him. It only had one optic. The being reached up to his own face. No, he had two. The creature took his hands and gently stood him up.

"Hello there. I'm Five."

The being mentally reached for a name and saw a bright flash of green. He saw large hands tenderly inking a nine onto his back. Coming back, he found himself in Five's arms. He pulled back and smiled, proudly telling the Stitchpunk his new name. Or…he tried to. Nothing came out of his mouth. He paused and tried again. Nothing. He looked at Five, touching his throat and looking upset.

"Oh…I guess you can't speak, can you?"

Nine tried several more times then shook his head sadly.

"That's alright. Three and Four can't speak either. They flash though."

Nine tried twice more to speak then held up three fingers. Then he held up four. Then he drew a question mark.

"Hm? Oh, they're two more Stitchpunks.

"Stitchpunks?"

Five glanced over Nine's head, looking surprised for a brief moment, before meeting his optics again and nodding. "Yeah. That's what Maker called us. It's our…" Five searched for the right word.

"Race. Species. Kind."

"Yes. Thank you."

"Where are they?"

"With the others. Seven went to go get them."

"Seven?"

"Yeah. She's the only female. She's tougher than iron nails, though. She's quick and clever and can fight the machines really well."

Red optics, a cat-like body, an expanse of wings, a metallic howl, a room eerily still…

"Are you alright?" Five asked, lowering him down to his knees.

"Machines…"

"Yeah. The Cat Beast. There's a flying one, too. We call that one the Winged Beast."

"Oh." Nine looked around. "Where am I?"

"This is the Awakening Room. It is the room Maker made us in, and where he brought us to life. Only…you didn't really come to life until now."

"How long have you been alive?"

"About ten years."

"Wow. So I'm a baby compared to you."

"Age-wise? Yes. But technically Stitchpunks can't actually be babies."

"Maybe not physically, but mentally? Quite a bit."

"But you can talk and walk. Babies can't do that."

Nine looked thoughtful. "True. When are the others going to get here?"

"Any time," Five said with a smile. "Seven went to get them about an hour ago."

"Oh. Can I look around until then?"

"Sure."

Nine took a step toward a book and nearly fell flat on his face. Five helped him back up and the next couple minutes were spent learning the fine motor skill of walking. Once he had walking down, Nine ran his fingers over the spine of the aforementioned book.

"Five?"

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you wake me up before?"

"We didn't know where you were, or that you even existed," Five explained gently. "Maker hid us from view as soon as we left this room. We just found it again. Seven and I saw you and she dashed off to get the others while I tried to wake you."

"Oh." Nine paused. "Thank you for waking me."

"You're welcome."

"Is he using soul energy to speak?" asked a curious voice.

They turned to see striped Stitchpunk.

"Apparently," Five said. "Nine, this is Six."

"Charmed," Nine said with a smile. "What's soul energy and how am I using it to speak?"

Six placed a hand under his chin and tilted it up. Nine blinked when he saw green letters fading.

"Oh!" Nine was fascinated as that word replaced the faded ones. "How very peculiar!"

"Great. He uses big words," a huge Stitchpunk muttered.

"Come now, Eight," a pale and rather unrefined looking Stitchpunk said. "Just ask."

"Fine. What does…pe-cu-li-ar mean?"

Nine's words were faster than the pale one could speak. "It means queer."

"One!" Eight whined. "Now he's doing it on purpose to make me look stupid!"

Nine was confused. "What?"

"Eight," scolded a rather patchwork-looking Stitchpunk. "He is doing no such thing. He just doesn't know that you're still learning those kinds of words."

"I didn't mean to hurt or offend you. It means strange or odd," Nine placated.

Eight studied him distrustfully then relaxed when he saw the honesty. "It's okay. I'm just stupid."

There was a chorus of no's which faded as Nine saw Eight sitting on the floor composing a song. There was nothing stupid about that, Nine thought. That required brilliance, dedication, patience, nothing like stupidity at all. Nine blinked once and found himself back in the Awakening Room.

"You're smart. I think your music is quite beautiful from the looks of it."

Nobody saw his words. They were too busy admonishing Eight. Eight just shrugged them off, looking downcast. Nine frowned and went over to hug the large creature. Eight stiffened then patted Nine's back with a smile.

"Thanks…what's your number?"

"His number's Nine," Five said

"How did you know that?" Nine asked. "I never told you that. Because I can't."

"It's on your back."

"Oh. Right."

"Well, Nine, welcome to the world," the patchwork Stitchpunk said, walking over and patting his back. "I'm Two. Five and I are the doctors in our little group. You've already met him."

"Yes. Why does he have only one optic? Was he made that way?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Nine turned and repeated his questions. Five smiled, looking a little embarrassed.

"It was back when the humans were still around, and the enormous Walkers, those are machines. They threw out some gas bombs, and I got flipped over by one. It knocked me out. When I came to, Two was holding me, and I only had one working optic."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I don't mind only having one optic. It lets me concentrate on just one thing at a time."

What a curious answer, Nine thought then noticed the two very similar looking Stitchpunks being held at bay by a female Stitchpunk. They paused in their struggling and waved shyly. Nine smiled and waved back. The female was bowled over and Nine found himself on the ground as the two beings looked him over.

Nine watched them flashing as they took him in. He felt an urge to do the same. He grabbed one of the frantically moving hands and began looking it over. Unlike the twins' speedy movements, he took his time, going over each detail. It was only after he'd finished classifying the piece of anatomy that he noticed that the others were eerily still.

"You…you're cataloguing…" Seven said slowly.

"Cataloguing?"

Yes. Flashed the one with the three on his chest. You are taking in information and storing it in your mind for later reference.

"Oh. I am?"

Certainly seems that way to us. Four replied.

"Is that bad?"

"Not necessarily," Five replied, approaching the piled-up Stitchpunks. "But you must ask for permission before you catalogue us. Objects we don't really care about, as long as they're not our personal property. Understand?"

"Sure. I didn't even know I was doing it."

We didn't either at first. Four laughed.

Yes, yes! Three agreed. But we quickly figured it out!

"Well, that is enough of that," said the unrefined Stitchpunk. He stepped forward and the twins hurried off of Nine. "I am One. I am the leader of our kind."

"Hello, One. I am Nine."

One gestured for Nine to stand, and the youngest Stitchpunk did so. One walked around him, looking him over.

"Are you cataloguing, too?" Nine asked, twisting around to look at his leader, who was observing his back.

"Not in the way you do," One replied. "I just want to know what my newest little Stitchpunk looks like."

"Oh. Why are you wearing a hat?"

One paused and met his optics. "Because I want to."

Nine nodded and settled back. Another flash of green light filled his vision, and he saw One standing in front of a mirror, his hand skimming a tuft of fabric that was on the top of his head. Embarrassment made him turn away, his face pinching with the crippling emotion. Nine blinked and he found himself in One's arms.

"Easy, Nine. You're still a little unbalanced," One said soothingly.

Nine tapped One's hat, but didn't remove it. "I don't think you want to wear it. You feel as though you have to."

One blinked at him then frowned. "Keep your thoughts to yourself, Nine."

"I'm not allowed to think?"

"That's not what I said. I said to keep your thoughts to yourself."

"All conversation is either shared thoughts or the sharing of information gathered," Nine said pointedly. "So that takes away at least half of all my conversations with you."

One stared at him. "Great," he finally said, shaking his head. "Another smartass."

The others all laughed. Two stepped over. "That's enough of that. I do believe we should head home."

"Source!" Six suddenly shrieked and ran over to the Transfer Device, hopping up and down and reaching desperately for the circular object pressed into the metal frame.

"By the Maker, he's right!" One gasped as they all crowded around.

"Want! Want!" Six said desperately, turning to plead with One.

"We'll get it, Six," Two said softly.

"How? There's no way to get up there," Seven said, leaning against her spear.

Nine hummed to himself and felt a flex of power. On instinct alone, he reached out and focused on the object. Tingles shot down his arm and green light surrounded the Source. Everybody turned to look at Nine as the round thing disconnected and floated lightly into his open hands. They were all open-mouthed.

"How did you do that?" Six asked as he hurried forward to draw his fingers across the object.

"I don't know. I just felt like that was the best way to get it," Nine said with a shrug.

Six turned to the others. "He's very strong in soul energy. Much stronger than I am. We have to test him."

"Yes, but later. Two's right. It'll nearly be dark by the time we get back to Sanctuary," One said. "Let's go."

Nine stored the Talisman, for that is what he felt it was called, inside of himself at Five's prompting then they walked out. As the sun sank down, they sped up. There was hardly any light when the lift clicked home. The other Stitchpunks walked forward, most of them yawning. Nine got off the lift and looked around. He couldn't see much in the almost-gone light. He just stood there awkwardly when he realized the others were all gone.

Just when he was about to sneak off and lay down in a dark corner, there was a blinding light. Nine cringed. When his optics adjusted, he saw One and Two, and the latter had a strange hat on with a candle on top. One held out a hand.

"So sorry to leave you in the dark, Nine. Come along. Bed time."

"But I don't have a room."

"You shall sleep with me until we make a room for you."

Nine blinked and nodded. He soon found himself sitting on a comfortable bed. There was a candle in the corner of the room, sending a soft glow over the bare room. Two smiled at him then left. Nine bounced several times then focused on One as the hat came off. There was that little poof. As One took off his cape and folded it, Nine hurried over and swished his hand across it. One jumped violently.

"How dare you!" he gasped when he realized what Nine had done.

"I was right. You don't want to wear that stupid hat. You wish you didn't have that thing on the top of your head."

"Shut up!" One spat. "And lie down! Now!"

Nine obeyed and One curled an arm around him, falling asleep quickly.

Nine couldn't sleep, unable to get the harsh words out of his head. He finally stood and walked out into the main room. Moonlight was streaming in, making his surroundings visible. He trailed his hands over a chair and words reverberated in his head in One's voice.

"Don't you dare touch my throne, Seven! That is mine! Nobody but me is allowed to touch it!"

Nine frowned and shook his head. Where were these images and voices coming from? Was it normal? Could everybody see them, hear them? He had a feeling that most of them couldn't, but another flash of green light showed him One then Six tossing and turning, shadows of monsters dancing over their heads. So One and Six could. Maybe he could go to them and ask what was going on.

The youngest Stitchpunk yawned as he looked around some more. He came to another lift and used it to go up to an outcropping. He found a telescope and looked out at the dim, shadowy world. Another yawn and he looked around where he was. The full moon's light lit up a cot of some sort in the corner underneath an overhang and he snuggled under the blanket. His last thoughts were of how unfair One was then relaxation took him into slumber.