This is just something I thought would be cute. 6 finds 'And you can be the Cat'.

6 ran into the throne room from his corner, awkwardly dragging a square book about two times his size. The little 'punk crossed the room with a rare smile lighting up his face and dropped his wad of paper in front of me. He grasped his key out of habit, vibrating with excitement. Why he came to me instead of 13, I don't know.

"Story!" he told me, bursting with energy. I watched him for a few moments, waiting to see if he might elaborate. Suddenly I realise he wants me to read to him.

"6, I don't think I could focus enough to read. I'm sorry." I explain to him, my optics drooping tiredly.

"Story!" he says again.

"Alright, alright" I flipped the cover page open and found a page that said 'this book belongs to...' there wasn't a name in the space left at the end. 6 pushed past me, inky hands at the ready. His pen-nib fingers carefully traced his number into this gap. Chuckling, 2 entered the room from the bucket-lift. I hadn't heard it coming up.

"16! Story!" 6 said, tugging gently at my wing, making sure not to get too much ink on me. I turned back to the book.

"This book belongs to 6." I read out loud, grinning at the child-like possesiveness of the pinstriped doll next to me. I tried to flip the page again, but 6 was still standing on it, fingers wrapped securely aroound his key. I took his elbow in my hand and steered him to stand beside me. Flipping the page, my sleep-deprived brain was dumbfounded. There was nothing on the page. It was blank. Like the paper 6 liked to use for drawing his visions on.

"Uh... Once upon a t-" I started, and was interrupted.

"No, story!"

"6 the page is blank." I told him, gesturing vaguely with my arm. my optics unfocused and refocused. I would need to sleep soon.

"Story..." 6 mumbled as he stepped back onto the book and pulled at the edge.

"That would get us back to 'This book belongs to 6' " I told him, but he continued to yank at the blank book. 2 was laughing now, and limping over to us. Why was he laughing? I wondered sleepily.

"Maybe 2 will read to you, 6." I point out to the frustrated stitchpunk on the book. He bounded over to 2 and dragged him back, excitedly repeating '2... story!' while the older, limping 'punk tried to catch his breath and follow 6 at a trot. Once both of the fully-awake dolls reached me, 6 dropped 2's arm and clutched his key, which seemed to be the place he used to store his hands when they weren't in immediate use.

"Sure, I'll-" 2 gasped between breaths and now subdued chuckles. "I'll read to you," he finished. Then 2 headed over to the perfectly stitchpunk sized paperback and flipped the page. Instead of going back to the previous page, he found the title page, which read 'And you can be the Cat'. Again, he turned the page, and the story began. Now, why hadn't I thought of that? I wondered before collapsing on the floor and being lulled to sleep.