Hope is rare thing

By Franki Lew

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and the "9" movie are property of Shane Acker and focus features. Story is mine.

Genre: tragedy

Rating: K+ (for themes sensitive to some people's beliefs)

Disclaimer: This takes place in an alternate timeline where all the characters are alive. I felt like experimenting with 9 fan fic clichés. "Soulbinding" is still a mixed bag as far as fans are concerned, but most people like the idea of "stitchpups" or "stitchlings". Most of my ideas about stitchpups involve doubt about the child living but it always ends with a happy family. I wanted to see if maybe there wasn't quite a positive outcome to a stitchpunk being born.

Six rag dolls filled the dormitory that night. 3, 4, and 6 were sprawled out across the floor looking at pages taken out of old books. 5, 1, and 8 meanwhile discussed their outlook on the situation.

"I can't believe it. Four months of all those attempts and it's finally pulling through. 9 and 7 are going to be so happy," 5 said.

Since their discovery of what they were the stitchpunks had grown curious as to how they could possibly make more of their kind. Their creator, a man simply known as the scientist, never said anything about procreation but they assumed it was what he'd want. 9 and 7 seemed to be the only compatible breeding pair for the experiment. Of course they were more then willing to any way. At first 9 was unsure about being a father but he eventually came to terms with any doubts he had. 7 on the other hand was different. Very different. Usually hot-tempered and ready for action, 7 found her self in a state of serenity during her time "carrying".

The process of transferring a soul, or for lack of a better word, "birth" on the other hand was not simple. Most of the time the soul just seemed to fade away or had to be taken out as it caused rupture to 7's insides. 9 and 7 were so soar by this loss that at a certain point they refused to participate in any more experiments. Luckily their latest attempt was more then successful. With the soul processing beautifully and the body already made, it seemed like their once group of nine was going to be a group of ten.

9 and 7 may have been the proud parents but the rest of their clan was also excited. Though having each other was already a fortunate gift, it was a sad existence as the only stitchpunks to exist and ever exist. This new rag doll was sure to be their ticket to immortality.

"I wonder what it's going to be," 5 said. "2 showed me the body and I think it's gonna be male. On the other hand it would be nice to have more females in our group." To which 4 nodded in agreement.

6 hopped up to 5 and shoved a drawing of a fern in his face. "You think she'll like it?" he asked. With 6's seer personality 5 saw this as a straight up answer. "Oh well that settles it then. It is going to be female." 5 had a close but complicated relationship with 9 and 7. He had always longed to have 7 as his mate, which made him jealous when she wanted 9 instead. Had 9 not been such a good sport about it they probably wouldn't have kept their friendship. He helped 2 with most of the experiments and 9 told him ahead of time that he was allowed to look over the child whenever he wanted to.

1 (who had been listening all this time) groaned, "wonderful. 7 is already immature and now she's going to raise a daughter to be the same way." 8 then let out a charmed sigh as though the thought of 7 being a mother was sweet to him. Just then 2, the medic of the group, appeared in the room.

"So is it here yet? Is it okay? What is it? A male or female?" 5 asked enthusiastically.

For what ever reason 2 had no expression on his face. He just motioned 5 to follow him in. 5 got up and did as his mentor wanted him to leaving 1 and 8 to continue their banter.

"Say," 8 said to 1, "y'think it'll like me?"

"What?"

"9 and 7's kid. Y'think it'll like me?"

"The same way it'll like 6, or 5, or 2," 1 said. "I don't know much about this kind of thing but I've seen enough of you come into this world helpless and stupid. I can only guess it's similar." 8 guessed that 1 didn't really want to talk about any of this so he joined 6 and the twins. Without a glance being given to him, 1 pulled out something he was meaning to give to the couple. A silver Christmas bell he kept as a prized possession. Though 1 thought 9 was unfit for leader of the tribe he treated the boy like his protégé. It felt liberating for him to instruct 9 or give advice. The old doll was their group was not a family but suppose 9 was to start a real one, he wanted to be first to offer something.

The drapes that divided the dormitory from the operating room were suddenly flung open and 5 stood there. Believing this to be the last time any one needed to come out for anything they all swerved their heads at him and smiled. Then they saw the look on his face. It was the look of pain, of ultimate sorrow and loss.

"5…" 1 asked, "what's happened?"

5 lips began to mutter as he sheepishly tried to find the right words to explain. But he didn't have to in the end. 7's voice was heard screaming from inside. "What? What do you mean it's dead! It was just fine! I know it was! Do something! Now!"

The hideout became silent.

The evening was deathly cold and only a few ours after the procedure. 7 said she wanted it over with quick. The ground surrounding their hideout was usually cluttered with equipment any of the dolls used. However, a small patch of soil had been kept clear. It was their burial ground. None of them knew when another might end up passing so they agreed it was only right to have one left open.

The body they made for their child was burned into ash and tarnished fabric. Anything left was thrown in a cigarette box and tossed in a hole. The blessings each doll gave never seemed to mean anything. 6 seemed oddly shaken up, like he was guilty about something so 8 ended up walking him back into the hideout. 3 and 4 darted off multiple times to get something that they thought might cheer up 9 and 7 but soon they also gave up and were dormant. 2 and 5 helped with the finishing touches. 1 left with them, but not before giving the couple words of advise.

Soon only 9 and 7 stood there. They were never aware their comrades were watching them from the top window. All they could do was sulk. By the time the moon shone its face in the center of the sky 9 suggested they head inside. Astonishingly, 7 agreed. The broken hearted pair could only visit the grave of their offspring that never was and never would be.