Mable: This is a story that was inspired by a drawing of Ink's. I hope she doesn't mind that I made into a fic, but that's why I wanted to clearly state that it was her drawing that inspired the fic. I don't own 9, Enjoy!
To Whom We Belong
Mismatched optics flew open as a soft cry escaped his lips. This time he had suppressed the scream, but it didn't change the horror he felt after awakening from the nightmare. Another twisted look into his own visions that he couldn't escape from had left him weary in so many ways. His sharp fingers weaved into his yarn and tugged at it in a stressful manner. It didn't help the pain swelling in his chest and he groaned in distress before releasing a pitiful whimper. He wished that the visions weren't there, that the pictures would stop flickering in his mind.
However, there was no way to fix it because it kept happening. Every night he slept he saw nightmares and because of it he barely slept. When he didn't sleep he would become more clumsy and uncomfortable in his fabric. His words were halting, his thoughts hazed, and he hated it. He hated the sleep depraved days, but the only thing other than that was the nightmares. Now he pulled his legs against his chest and curled into a ball in his cold bed. Cold because the air leaked through the blankets from large holes torn by his sharp fingers.
It was so lonely sitting in here after a nightmare. He almost wished that he would have screamed so that someone would have ran in and helped him. Six didn't like being a burden though. That's what he felt like sometimes; just a burden that none of the others needed around. He covered his mismatched optics with his ink stained hands and released a choking sob. He couldn't help but cry, he had been crying more and more recently, becoming more depressed with every passing day that slipped by.
The others didn't live like this. They lived happily together, social and having fun, while Six spent hours awake scribbling on filth pieces of paper. He felt his chest ache and clutched it with his sharp fingers. The saddened pain was awful and unbearable. Once he had asked Two about pain, not being specific, and the Inventor explained that it was the body's way of showing that something was wrong. He also said pain wasn't completely a bad thing; pain showed that you were alive, that you surviving said issue.
Then something suddenly dawned on Six that he never thought of before. If you felt pain when you were alive then maybe there was no pain when you were not. Six couldn't remember his out of body experience after the Machine's attack so he wasn't exactly sure what it felt like. The thought of floating around as a soul was odd, but at least it made it that his chest wouldn't have the same pain, his head wouldn't ache, and maybe he would even get some times when he could sleep without nightmares. Maybe he wouldn't even need sleep.
It was a bittersweet thought, but Six was so sleep deprived that he was considering it, and soon his mind changed to how he would actually go through with it. He had no weapons; or, really, he had no weapons except for his own hands. He stared at them innocently and wondered if he took them against his insides if it could take his life and revert him to his soul being alone. Six's hands shook as he stared at them, but his mind was already convinced. He had no other choice, he was suffering.
But he couldn't leave without leaving something behind and climbed out of his bed. Crossing over to his inkwell he flipped over his newest drawing and stared at the back of the blank paper before dipping his hand into the ink. The cooled liquid was familiar and a slight comfort to have his hands in again. It wasn't enough, but it helped soothe him, and he lowered his hand to the paper where he began to write scribbled words. They were shaky and uneven like his own breathing which betrayed him to allow more sobs to pass through.
He couldn't take it anymore and as soon as the letter was finished he decided it was time to go through with it. He lifted his key off and laid it down onto the letter. This was the last step and Six went for his front with shaky movements…
It was a relatively eventful morning to the Stitchpunks. The twins had awoken early and managed to wrangle the others into helping them clean out an old shelf that was beginning to smell strangely. Or, more so, they were looking through it when One detected the scent and went into a frenzy about cleaning. It didn't help that this was the one shelf that Three and Four had seemed to let get disorganized as it was one of the oldest. Since the Library was their new home the others sort of became convinced to join in. Unfortunately, it was going slow.
"My! Look at this!" Two called out to the others as he pulled something free from behind a small stack of charcoal pencils. His optics widened in interest as he wiped a layer of dust from the front of the round piece of jewelry. It revealed ivory underneath that was formed to resemble some sort of flower. "It's some sort of brooch! I am certain that this is valuable." One crossed over to his side and looked at it. The Leader was doing more observing than actual work, but the others were at least glad that he wasn't being commanding or ranting about the current condition of the area.
"Not valuable anymore. Not covered in that amount of filth." One retorted, scowling at the thick layer of dust upon it, and Two smiled, "Well it was valuable. Humans would have traded quite a few pennies to get ahold of one of these." He then chuckled a bit as he wiped more of the mess off, "And all it needs is to be cleaned." One scoffed as he trailed off, "And if you keep cleaning items with your own fabric then you will need to be cleaned." Seven then decided to chime in, feeling particularly playful and knowing it would quite One quickly.
"Are you suggesting that you're going to give Two a bath?" She asked with a smug look and as expected One seemed to become very flustered. Instead of answering her, he turned and immediately went to go observe the others. The Warrior was clearly amused and now Two's chuckle became a laugh as he crossed to her and patted her on the back in a friendly way. He then showed her the brooch, "After I clean it perhaps you would like it? I'm sure the twins wouldn't mind sharing and I believe it would go quite nice with your fabric."
She contemplated it, though with it all grime covered it wasn't that appealing, but answered with, "Maybe. We'll see what the twins think about it." Her optics then flickered over as she heard a banging noise. Standing nearby was Five and Nine trying to carry out some sort of closed leather case out of the way so they could get farther into the back and naturally see what was in the case itself. Nine had just stumbled over one of the charcoal pencils and ended up dropping his side of the case.
"Sorry!" He apologized quickly and went to lift it again, "No problem." Was Five's quick answer as he looked back to make sure he was leading the case in the right direction, "We can put it right over here." With that he began to guide the other over to an open area in the front of the shelf beside one of the short candles that had been lit so that they could see. The late morning sun couldn't reach the depth of the shelf. At the moment the twins were trying to set up some sort of mirror contraption that had to reflect natural light, but had not yet to finish getting it adjusted.
The dusty case was dropped to the ground and Five kneeled before it. Nine crouched beside him and watched as the one eyed one opened the small latch and pushed to lid open. Inside they were met with a set of strange little blocks. White with black dots open them and segmented in the center. "What are these?" Nine asked curiously as he lifted one and began to look it over. The buttoned one looked at it and blinked a bit before looking back to the Inventor, "Umm, Two? We found something. Do you know what it is?"
The Inventor handed the brooch to Seven and immediately wandered up to them and leaned over, hands on his knees, to look at the items. He paused to think briefly before perking in remembrance, "Yes, they're dominos." Five looked back to them curiously while Nine tapped on one with interest, "What are they for? They look like some sort of brick." Two was quick to explain as he lifted one from the case, "Humans used to use these to play a game. The game being dominos of course. Hmm… I'm sure the twins will be able to find a book with the rules."
This was clearly exciting for the group and Nine suggested, "Maybe after we're done we could try a game?" Two nearly answered when One, who was nearby, spoke as though he was the one asked, "That is fine, but only after we finish here and not before." The Inventor looked over with amusement and Seven merely shook her head at One's methods of being Leader. That was when a voice came from the back, "Boss, I found something back here." The Leader immediately turned towards the direction of the Guard's voice, "Well what are you waiting for? Bring it out here."
Eight soon revealed himself, lugging a large jar with him, but that wasn't all that came. The smell that One detected earlier was growing fouler and he pulled the top of his cape upwards slight before burying his mouth into it. The others were wincing as well, the twins stopping their job with the mirrors to push their hoods over their mouths. That's when Eight revealed the jar that was filled with a soupy mixture and was opened on the top. "I think this is making that smell." He pointed out and Seven groaned, "Ugh, you think?"
"What is this?" One demanded in pure disgust as Nine crept forward bravely, though pointedly breathed as little as possible. There was a makeshift label on the side that had a scribbled date on it. "Looks like it was sealed by someone and then marked with the date it was sealed at." This caused Two to speak, "It must be preserved goods that the humans were using to ration their supplies." Five stood beside him with a weird look, "Why would humans eat that? It doesn't smell like it could be good."
"It must have went bad." Two suggested, "The lid is off, so it rotted and turned foul." One scoffed and walked back to stand by Two, to get more room from the object, "Foul does not describe that odor. Eight, wash your hands after touching the jar, and don't you dare get any of it on you." Eight responded with, "I'm being careful; it smells like death." Then Two added, "Oh! Fermented items are good for gardens, right?" He asked the two twins who nodded in sudden eagerness and the Inventor added in, "We could put it out back and see if it grows anything."
"We'll be lucky if it don't kill something." Eight muttered to himself with an amused look and he began to move the jar again. Nine came forward, "Here, I'll help." He insisted and struggled to help the Guard before Five went forward as well. That was when Seven suddenly spoke, "Has anyone seen Six this morning? There's an inkwell back there that he might like." Five paused in thought before answering her, "I haven't seen him at all. Maybe he's sleeping in a little late? I think I heard him awake last night."
"It must have been another nightmare…" Seven said sympathetically and most of the others joined her. Eight was quick to point out, "He has them all the time. Probably in there drawing them up or something." The Guard was always dismissive of Six. They had used to been much worse off, what with Eight bullying Six frequently, but sometime after the incident involving the Machine Eight decided to lighten his assault on the smaller. That didn't mean it was much better, but at least they could trust that he knew when he was going too far with the teasing.
"Still, this is a little weird, isn't it?" Nine voiced as he released the jar and turned towards the others. Eight continued to move it as he spoke, "Usually Six is the first one awake. It's not really like him to still be asleep. Even if he had a nightmare." This was correct and finally Five offered, "I'll go see if he's feeling okay. Healer, you know." He joked as he crossed to the inkwell, "I'll take this with me. He might want to draw some if he's had another bad night." He suggested and this was agreed with.
Five exited the area and headed to the actual Sanctuary portion of the Library where their rooms had been made. It wasn't too far away and when standing at the edge of the throne room he could see some of the others wandering around. He headed down the short hall to Six's room and softly knocked on the doorframe, "Good morning, Six." He called in before coming inside, "We found some-…" At first the scene before him confused him, but then he understood exactly what was before him. Six was laying on the group limp, beneath him a pool of what looked like ink spreading out beneath him.
Five almost thought that the other had just fallen asleep, but it was clear that this wasn't what happened. The inkwell slid from his grasp and crashed to the floor, spilling ink onto the already stained floor. The Healer's voice didn't seem to cooperate as he approached the striped one and kneeled down beside him. The doll's optics were closed and his body was limp while his front was open and revealed clear damage inside. It was as though he was lifeless. He looked to be nothing more than a limp doll and Five slowly lifted his upper frame.
He shook him lightly, "Six?" There was no response, "Six?!" Still nothing and he was hyperventilating, "No, this can't- This can't be happening…" He mumbled as he began to panic, overlooking Six. He couldn't tell what kind of damage was done inside because of the mess of ink, but with the way the other one was laying he didn't look responsive. "Six!" He called out again as he pulled the other to his chest, holding him tight. Here was the one he considered as his brother, laying here, and he had no idea what had done this.
It was only then that Five's optic landed upon the scribbled letter being held down by the metal key and he realized it was a message from Six. Still holding the Artist whose body collapsed on his shoulder, he reached to grab the note, dragging it out from under the key and unfolding it out on the floor. There he could see the scribbled words that 6 had written.
"I'm sorry. It hurts too much. You can feel pain when you live, so I can make it go away. I won't be a burden again. I wish I could have been part of your family, but I don't belong here anymore."
The words immediately told Five exactly who had done this to Six, Six himself. However, before he could do anything else he realized that he could feel something against his shoulder and neck; the lightest ghost of a breath. He was breathing and this meant he was alive even if it was shallow and faded. The Healer dropped the letter and grabbed the Artist into his arms, his small body fitting into his grasp perfectly as he stumbled out of the room and down the hall. "I need help!" He called out as he entered the throne room, "Six is hurt! I need help!"
Thankfully the others were nearby and Nine was instinctively the first to come sprinting towards the lift, "Five?! What's going on?!" He called upwards to the throne room, but Five couldn't wait and activated the release on the lift to send it down while he hurried to the Workshop. Six was spread out onto the worktable instead of the cot as he already knew he would need massive surgery. Once he had Six laying down, though, he didn't know what to do. His mind flicked off and he just stared for a few seconds.
It wasn't much longer until Two appeared at the doorway with Nine and only then did Five's mind click into 'Healer' mindset. He now opened Six's front and looked inside as Two circled the table, "Dear Creator! What happened?!" Five spoke quickly, "There's a letter in Six's room. It explains everything." As Nine ran to get said letter, Two's head shot upwards and he stared at his apprentice. The apprentice looked back and allowed a sad look to pass his face. It didn't take more than a second before Two put it together. His face contorted with sadness and he looked downwards, "Oh Six…"
The others had gotten into the throne room when Nine appeared with the letter, looking shell shocked, and One broke him out of the state, "Out with it, child! What happened?! Was it an attack?!" The zippered one shook his head and looked down at the letter, "No, it… I don't understand. This doesn't make any sense." The Leader raised a brow in obvious questioning while Seven stepped closer, "Nine, what is it?" She looked to him with a pressing look and Nine shared this look briefly before reading.
"'I'm sorry. It hurts too much. You can feel pain when you live, so I can make it go away. I won't be a burden again. I wish I could have been part of your family, but I'… 'But I don't belong here anymore'…" Nine lowered the letter before speaking, "He's saying that he hurt himself." His voice was confused; Nine was unexposed to this sort of thing while the others were clearly disturbed. Even the twins got sad looks and held each other. One choked, "It's a suicide letter… Are you positive it is in his handwriting?"
Nine addressed the first comment first, "Suicide?" Surprisingly, Eight, who was in the back with a look devoid of any expression answered, "It means he tried killing himself." He muttered out just as blankly, seeming to zone out while One repeated, "Is it in his handwriting?" Again Nine's attention shifted, this time to Seven who suddenly questioned, "Was he acting any differently last night?" The other shook his head a little, "I don't think so… He was just drawing, I didn't notice any-."
At that second One brought his staff down to bang it against the ground. Not in a threatening way, but in a clear way to signal that he wanted attention. Both heads snapped over and the Leader calmed himself somewhat, "Now then, are we positive that the letter was written by him?" Neither Seven nor Nine could understand why One was so insistent on making sure, but the latter handed over the paper and the older scanned it with sharp optics. Then, to both of their surprise, his face turned grim and heavily saddened. "I was hoping that this was not the case."
"What on Earth would make Six want to do this?" Seven asked in disbelief and One was surprisingly the one to reach out and rest a hand on her shoulder while staring at the letter. "It is all here. He mentions some sort of pain, perhaps there was an injury we didn't know of." Nine chimed in, "You don't think he would have hid an injury, do you?" The other two looked to him without answer, the twins stared at the floor, and finally Eight was the one to speak. He was now standing over in the corner eyeing the wall instead of anything in particular.
"He's done it before. Got his hand caught in the crank on the lift at the old Sanctuary and didn't tell anyone. Took a few days to figure out what happened." Silence overtook the room before Nine looked to One and Seven quietly, "Is there a chance that that's what he meant or…?" They didn't answer still and so he finished there and waited. It didn't take much longer before Five stepped out into the throne room. Immediately he was bombarded by the twins, the Leader, the Warrior, and his best friend who were all wanting answers on Six's condition.
"He's okay." Five explained as he put his hands up in defense to the crowd, "There wasn't that much damage. It looked a lot worse than it was." Though attention was immediately on his hands which were stained with black liquid and Nine murmured, "Five, your hands…" The Healer waved it off, "It's alright. It's not oil or anything, it's just ink. Six, well, had some sort of ink reserve in his body. I haven't ever seen it before, but it explains why sometimes his hands leak ink even when he's not near a well. It leaked everywhere and-."
"Five," One commanded, "His condition." This seemed to knock Five out of his ramblings and he explained, "He's stable. Like I said, the damage wasn't that bad. Two thinks said that…" He paused and straightened his voice, "He said that the damage is consistent with self-infliction. He did it to himself." The reaction was immediate. Seven covered her face with a hand in distress, One clutched his staff tighter and stared at the floor, Three embraced Four tightly to comfort the twin, Eight merely flinched across the room, and Nine continued to stare in absolute mortification.
"But… But he didn't have a weapon." He insisted and the buttoned one looked to him, "He didn't need one. He used his own hands." At this moment Seven could be heard whispering, "Oh dear Creator." Nobody else asked any questions for a few seconds so Five finally explained, "He, uh… The damage isn't that bad. Two thinks that when he broke into the ink reserve and it started spilling out he might have gotten scared and fainted… or maybe it was hurting enough to make him faint… We're not really sure."
At this point Two joined them as well, holding a rag that he was using to wipe off his hands, and looked clearly saddened by the entire situation. The others looked to him and he looked to the letter, "So you read his note. I have not, but I assume we have all came to the same conclusion? The evidence is unavoidable." One closed his optics and allowed Nine to take the letter to rea again, the twins peering around him to see. "He says he thinks he's a burden." He pointed out as he read the scribbles, then noted more, "And he says that he wishes he was part of our family?"
The question comment wasn't just presented by Nine as Five spoke, "Why would he write that? He's part of our family too. We've never said that he's not been." Two sighed a bit before offering the rag to Five who began to clean his hands. "Perhaps that is a sign that Six doesn't see himself as one of us." The Leader suddenly turned away and demanded, "How could he possibly do something so foolish?! Was he even considering- was he even thinking-?!" Seven was about to call him out when Two stopped her, "Just let him go. He's just as concerned as the rest of us, he just shows it differently."
Nine ignored the scene and protested, "He wasn't even acting strange yesterday! He was acting like he was fine…" Then he asked, "How long could this have been going on?" Two shrugged a bit and Seven exhaled, "If he actually tried to go through with it I doubt it was a spur of the moment idea. Who knows how long he's been planning this… What else did he write?" Nine glanced back down, "That he was hurting and he wanted it to stop. We wondered if he was hiding an injury."
At that second, One spoke, "Of course he wasn't. He means emotional pain, obviously." Nine looked to One with slight annoyance, "How could I tell? Eight said he's been known to hide injuries." The Leader retorted with, "He is known to do nothing of the sort. He only did it once." Nine had his own comment, "If he did it once it wouldn't be too out of reach to suggest that he would do it again." Now Seven spoke, "Why would he even hide an injury in the first place?" Now Five answered, "You and One were arguing." She huffed, "Of course, we always argued, but nobody noticed?"
"You never noticed." One pointed out, "So don't you dare put this on me, which I know you are planning to for you always do." The Warrior gawked before hissing out, "I don't blame everything on you, One. You like to be the center of the world, but right now we should be concerned with Six." That's when Two suddenly announced to break the fight, clearly not impressed with the behavior of the others, "That is why we should be in there waiting for him to awaken instead of bickering among ourselves for answers to pointless questions."
The others immediately went quiet from the scolding, even One, and Two gestured to the letter, "Now then, let's quickly see what else we can find out." He glanced over the letter and took in all he can, "Well, from what I see he feels like a burden to us and because of this feels isolated, like he's not one of us. This pain may be the nightmares, or lack of sleep, which I think may have contributed to him going completely unconscious as he did…" Then spoke, "However, I don't think he's fully thinking everything through. It sounds more like a desperate attempt to fix it then to actually kill himself."
Silence overtook and the Inventor rubbed his temples in distress. "How could we not notice? How did we not realize that Six was this distraught?" He was clearly growing distraught himself and Five put an arm around his shoulders, "It's not your fault, Two. You're good to him. If anyone gives him attention it is you." The Inventor looked ready to disagree, but One spoke, "We should be by Six's side now. We will get more answers once he awakens." He headed down the hall and the others filed with him, agreeing.
Six looked pitiful. He was laid out on the medical cot with a thin sheet pulled halfway up his body. His fabric was more stained than usual and seeing him in such a deep sleep was taboo. Two settled him down on a bench between the workbench and the cot so that he could watch the Artist, One soon deciding to sit alongside him as there wasn't many places to sit. Five perched on a stool and leaned against the workbench, head in hands. Seven merely took the small bed that Two used as his own, holding the twins who were nearly pleading for comfort.
Nine watched them from his position leaning against the worktable. It was still stained with ink and seeing all of it, knowing that it leaked from Six made him feel very uneasy. This entire situation was uneasy as Nine couldn't understand why one of them would want to take his own life. It seemed so drastic; after all, Six could have come to them, because they were all here now. "Well, not all of us…" Nine's thoughts rang out as he realized that they were one Stitchpunk short. There was clearly a missing Stitchpunk that should stand between Seven and himself.
A flash of anger passed him as he realized that it was Eight who was coincidently the one who constantly tormented Six. The male stood and started out of the room, the others not asking and the only one acknowledging his departure being One, but he said nothing. Nine nearly stormed down the hall with a growing annoyance that seemed to spring out of nowhere. He was simply so upset about Six and this entire situation and now that there was someone who could be the cause he couldn't stand just sitting there and letting it go by. After all, nobody really called Eight out on anything.
As he stormed into the throne room he could see that Eight was sitting at his normal post sharpening his knife in an obsessive manner. Nine's brows furrowed in frustration at the other's nonchalant behavior and he started over. The Guard glanced upwards when he was halfway across and raised a confused brow of his own, "What're you doing out here?" The zippered male growled in annoyance, "I should be asking you the same thing." The other male didn't seemed concerned by the comment and looked down to his knife.
"Why aren't you back there with us?" he demanded and Eight shrugged nonchalantly, "Not much room with everyone standing around in there." Then the burlap one's voice immediately retorted, "Not that you'd care too much. After all, it's only Six, isn't it? It's not like it's someone important to you or anything." The other now lowered his knife, "I knew you were getting at something." He pointed out clearly, but didn't exactly sound angry; just not very interested.
"Of course I'm getting at something!" Nine finally let his anger rang out, "We're supposed to be there for Six and, once again, you can't even do that! I know you don't care about him, but at least you could try not to be so blunt about it when he tried to kill himself!" He was beginning to grow very worked up as he let out any frustration about this event onto the larger, "Maybe you just can't understand what it means for someone to actually hurt themselves because they're miserable. Maybe you just can't grasp that!"
He was questioning Eight intelligence and to his surprise Eight was not budging. The usually offended Stitchpunk didn't seem to really care much of what Nine was calling him and continued to address his knife. "You're right," He agreed, "I can't grasp it." A simple comment that was now beginning to shove Nine away from what resistance he had, "Then maybe you want Six to hurt. We all know you've hurt him plenty of times in the past. Pushing him around, knocking him just a little too hard."
That was when Eight showed his first reaction and surprisingly his complete calmness was destroyed in a single second. Eight immediately stood and was towering over the burlap one who he seconds ago ignored. "I've never touched Six." He growled out and Nine didn't buy it for a second, "Well you've shoved me, you've tripped Five, you've manhandled Seven, and you actually treat us better than you treat Six. How do we not know that the letter was talking about you going in and beating him at night?"
"First of all," Eight began, tossing his knife aside in clear anger, "I wasn't manhandling Seven, I was stopping her from jumping on One. The two were fighting, she was ready to strike, end of story." Then his voice grew lower, "Second, I don't touch Six. If anything, you should be thanking me." Nine choked, "Thanking you?!" Eight retorted, "Yeah, thanking me. If I didn't do anything with him then nobody else would. You act all high and mighty now, but I don't remember once when you went out of your way to help Six. You're too busy with your own things."
"That's not true." Nine protested, but somewhat weakly. Even if this was just some sort of way to change blame from himself Eight had a good point. Nine himself knew that he didn't spend enough time with Six and maybe that was why he was taking the frustration out elsewhere. "Alright, maybe I don't spend enough time with Six." He admitted, "But you're bullying doesn't help anything! How do you think he feels when you call him a freak?! He feels like he's not one of us, just like in his letter!"
"Six doesn't know what he's doing. I've known him for years and this didn't happen until now; it would've happened sooner if it was me." Eight was becoming more defensive and began to fidget strangely. At first Nine thought he was having some sort of magnet withdraws by the way he was twitching and fidgeting. "You know that's not true. You know that this is all of our faults and you have to take responsibility for some of it. You know you're attention is just as bad as our inattention."
"I know." Eight suddenly caved and Nine was taken aback by the admission, "What?" The Guard suddenly allowed the anger to drop and rubbed over his head, "You think I don't know that I had a part in this? I'm not that stupid." It was as though Nine actually managed to crack through whatever front Eight was putting up. The zippered one was interrupted before he could speak, "I do it to Six because I thought he wouldn't feel it." He admitted and the younger was confused, "Wouldn't feel it?"
"He never showed a reaction, never showed anything other then a little disturbance, so I didn't think it was this bad. When he brushed it off I'd try harder, but I never thought I'd get this type of reaction. I didn't want any sort of reaction like this." That was when Nine realized that Eight really was feeling guilty, he just didn't know how to show it; Nine doubted that Eight had ever felt guilt like this before and he was right. "Eight," He began in an attempt to comfort, "We can still-."
He was interrupted when Five suddenly leaned out into the throne room with an eager look, "Six is waking up." He warned before turning to hurry back. Nine and Eight stared at the hall briefly before Nine looked to the Guard, "You… We need to be there for him now. What happened before isn't what's important, it's what we do now." He insisted, hoping that it would redeem them somewhat, especially since it was those words that helped him get over his mistake with the Machine. Eight seemed to take the words to heart as he slowly followed the other towards the Workshop.
Six's body felt completely drained as he groggily awoke. Mismatched optics attempted to focus on the world and something in his chest ached. He groaned a little and fidgeted before noticing the sound of nearby talking, but him mind only focused on one thing at a time, such as the fact that he was in the Workshop laying on the cot. The memories came back and he wasn't sure whether or not they were a dream or had really happened. That's when someone moved beside him and he looked over in a daze to see none other than Two.
"Good afternoon, Six." The Inventor greeted with a smile and a quiet tone as to not startle him. Six wasn't stupid, he knew what he had did and he knew Two was acting strange, so this meant he knew. Six's face contorted in fear as he didn't expect to be alive and to be caught. Two immediately felt a sharp sadness as he saw the clear fear, "It's alright, Six, nobody's upset with you." All of the others were feeling a bit guilty as well by the reaction, though they had only heard Two's words instead of seeing anything.
"I… Two… What?" He asked quietly and the Inventor gently explained, "Five found you in your bedroom this morning…" He added nothing more, nothing more needed to be said, and as he noticed fine lean into view, sitting on the stool once again, he knew they all knew what had happened. Now, no longer sleep deprivaed and somewhat in a stable mind, he felt an overwhelming shame and his voice blurted out, "It was an accident! I didn't- It was an accident!" His pulse was racing as he imagined what they'd do now.
Five stood and spoke; Six also noted that all of the others were here as well, but his view of them was obscured by Two and the blankets he was pulling higher and higher to shield himself. "We… We found your letter." Six recognized the stained page in Five's hands and knew there was no way he was going to be able to back out of this. He felt his body tremble as he brought his hands up to cover his face in mortification. He just wanted to vanish on the spot, because he had researched the treatment of the insane in the past.
Even though drawing was his life he took times away from it. Even though he was unstable he was rational enough to want to know why. The sight of insane patients being locked in small cribs, being dunked in water until they nearly drowned, and electrocution horrified him and since that point on he had become even more reclusive. Now if they knew he was able to hurt himself they would certainly resort to such measures. He didn't even want to imagine what they would do to his hands. The thought was terrifying.
Two was immediately comforting and slipped his arm around him in a comforting manner. "It's alright. It's going to be okay." He attempted to comfort and the others were immediately starting to come forward, the twins coming beside the bed and peering at him. That's when One suddenly spoke, "I can't… Imagine what you were thinking." Whatever scolding tone he had planned to take he was clearly having trouble supporting, mostly because now facing the pitiful Artist had shaken his resolve.
"One." Seven warned with a clear tone of annoyance and warning to which One retorted, "He almost killed himself." He reminded and Six slipped his fingers upwards to grip at his yarn. "That was what I was trying to do…" He murmured in an answer and, unfortunately, now they could actually hear him. "What?" One asked in confusion, looking to the Artist. Six heard it a different way, he took it as One's tone when he was demanding, when he wanted to know why someone was speaking up to him, and snapped.
"That was the point!" He said louder, clearly and without a stutter or choke, "Not to get attention from you, or Two, it was to-!" He cut off as he realized that his admission wasn't wise at all. He was admitting everything and changed his tone, noticing everyone staring at him in worry. The twins had backed away and were by Seven again while Nine moved in to stand beside Five and Six felt claustrophobic. He didn't want to face the others like this, he didn't want them to know everything, and he started to climb out of bed.
"I'm okay. I won't do it again, I swear, I wasn't thinking. I just need to draw, need to draw some more." There returned to tumbling words and, even worse, as he stood his body immediately reacted. He was lightheaded and his body was hurting in places that he didn't know it could, he stumbled to the side and was caught by Five. He could hear a few of the others gasp when he started to go down and now One spoke, "Six, you just had massive surgery." He pointed out with a much softer and confused tone.
Six tried to straighten himself while Five added in, "I think One's right, Six. Please, you need to rest." The striped one was insistent, though, as he had come this far. He just wanted to go curl on a stack of paper and move his hands along it while having them soaked in ink. He just needed to get some distance. Unfortunately, while Five let him go and while Seven wasn't quick enough to stop him as he hobbled towards the door, his path was abruptly blocked by a much taller Stitchpunk who he knew wouldn't be as lenient.
Five and Two had clearly been afraid to grasp Six too hard and this was why he escaped them; Eight was much harder to scare. "Eight, let me by." Six spoke in a much more meek tone to the Guard standing before him. "Can't." Eight responded with a blunt tone as he crossed his large arms over his chest. Six was beginning to grow even more claustrophobic and tried to hide the panic as Seven came closer, "Six, please, we just want to understand why you would…" She had trouble getting the rest out but managed, "would try to hurt yourself like this."
"I- I don't know." Six tried to defend, "It was too much. It was hurting and I couldn't sleep and I just didn't know what to do." As though he could talk himself out of the questioning and turned back to Eight, "Eight, please, I need to get by." Once again, Eight stood strong and didn't budge. "You were hurting…" Nine's voice spoke before falling silent and Six retracted his comment, "I was tired. I wasn't thinking because I was tired." His paranoia was kicking in, he was dizzy and expected them to be closing in to get ahold of him. "Then why didn't you just sleep?"
Nine asked in clear confusion and before Six could speak Two gasped lightly, "Six, is it the nightmares again?" The Artist immediately turned back to defend, but he couldn't, it was getting too much, and tried one last time with Eight, "Please…" Now the Guard instructed, "What's going on, Six?" They wanted to know, they wanted answers, and Six had no choice but to give them. Eight especially; Eight was considerably the only Stitchpunk who actually made Six feel like he had to respond to his commands as the others were clearly still afraid to approach.
Six assumed that they still singled him out. His attempt to end his troubling life had only left him more of a recluse. With that he suddenly gave in and wept again, now bluntly in front of the others, but it wasn't as though they would feel any stranger about him or think of him as any more of a freak. "I can't take it anymore!" He burst out, "I can't take it every night! I'm tired and I can't sleep, I don't want to see the things anymore, I don't want to know what's coming! But they're always there and I can't tell whether they're just dreams or whether it's going to come for us!"
Nine was feeling especially chilled at this admission. He knew that Six knew things they didn't, but hadn't been aware that Six was seeing these things in his dreams, and didn't know he was seeing future events in his dreams. Looking over he could see that the others were having equal reactions that varied slightly. Seven looked surprised and somewhat confused while the twins looked to each other and 'whispered' as though they knew something about it. Five looked sympathetic and somewhat guilty, as though he blamed himself.
But Nine recognized the look on One and Two's face. They knew, they absolutely knew about Six's current issue, but Nine wasn't calling them out on it. After all, Six was acting as though he was purposely keeping it quiet. The Artist continued rambling as well, "I'm tired of being like this! Why am I the one to see this? Why am I the one that has to know when I can't do anything because I can't sleep, because I see everything, because I can't do anything to stop it, and it won't stop, and my head hurts, and my body hurts, and I just can't take it anymore!"
Finally Eight's features managed to change and he stared at Six as though he had no idea who he was. This was the first time Six had spoke so honestly and so clearly, and sadly it was because he was distraught. Even more worrying, Six breathing suddenly shifted, he started gasping and breathing in short bursts of breath instead of real intakes of air. "Six?" Eight asked, uneasiness in his voice, and Six clutched his chest. Seven actually cried out with, "Six can't breathe!" Eight put his hands up like he was going to straighten Six, but was hesitant to touch and make it worse.
Five immediately came forward and took Six by the shoulders from behind to keep him steady as he led him back to the cot to get him to sit down. "Did the injury come loose?" One demanded of Two quietly, voice brimming with obvious concern, but Two was confident that this wasn't the case. "He's just having what looks like a panic attack." He sat down beside the striped one and put an arm around him. "Shh, just calm your breathing. Slow, deep breaths."
The Artist forced his body to do so and for once it actually submitted. As his breathing regulated he pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them close into a ball, releasing a few more pitiful whimpers. Two began to comfort, "If you were having trouble sleeping then you could have just come to us. You could have shared a bed with one of us, with One and I, and we could have stayed with you all night. All you had to do was ask." He shook his head, "I didn't- I don't want to be a burden."
"That wouldn't be a burden at all." Two insisted, gently tilting Six's face upwards, "Whether or not you believe it, we're family, and we love you. We don't want you to suffer through this." This is when Five spoke, "Six, today, when I saw you laying there almost dead…" The Artist looked to the Healer who was wringing his hands nervously, "It was awful. Awful to think you'd be gone, because I don't think we would be the same without you. I know we wouldn't." He smiled a little and reached out to rest a hand on the striped one's other shoulder.
The others started to follow suite, noticing that Six's face was beginning to lighten with every word, and slowly he was beginning to believe them. Though he'd certainly believe Two and Five, who were frequently the ones to comfort him. One now spoke, "I believe we are all now aware of your gift." He pointed out, "And it is a gift. It may feel like a curse, but most talents do." Then he paused before adding, "But you do not need to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore. Two is correct, we are a family, your burden is our burden, you don't need to carry on alone."
Hearing something so sincerely heartfelt coming from One actually shook Six to the core. He actually started to cry again, but not out of direct sadness, and One rested a hand on his shoulder in a comforting fashion. The twins also came forward and held one of Six's large and sharp hands in their small ones in a comforting manner, unable to explain what they were going to do but clearly still trying to comfort. Seven was next, "You saved us all countless times. If you wouldn't have told Nine what he needed to do to the Machine we would have all been killed, and we wouldn't have come back."
She smiled to him and he was slowly starting to believe them a bit. Now Nine spoke up, "This is our fault." He admitted, "But my fault mostly. I've- we've all been neglecting you, but we can't blame anyone but ourselves. For not paying attention when we should have. I'm sorry, Six. I'm sorry for not listening." The Artist smiled a little, almost in a forgiving way but not really seeming to blame anyone. Now it was down to Eight and both One and Nine were looking to him for him to say something. Six didn't; Six didn't expect Eight to say anything.
"Six…" Eight started, but faltered. Even though nobody was looking at him, he knew they were listening from the way they quieted. The words were stuck and he couldn't get them to form. What finally made it out was, "Are you going to do it again?" While it sounded like a blunt statement to anyone else, Six was surprised that Eight actually showed the concern to ask, and he murmured, "No… I didn't really want to do it before and… And I don't think I want to anymore." Immediately there was relief spreading among the others.
The twins dove to hug his midsection and Five rubbed his back caringly. Six knew he had made the right choice, no doubt about it, but he was still a little unsure of where to go next. They were here and they were sure that they were his family, but this didn't help his many issues, and almost as though they read his distress One spoke. "You need more rest." He insisted, "We can take you to your room." At this Two suddenly whispered and murmured about 'cleaning up the scene' before looking to Nine and Five. "Can you two help me get Six's room ready for him?"
They immediately agreed and the sitting ones stood, Two addressing Six, "We aren't leaving, we'll just be making sure everything cleaned. We'll be right back." The three left before Seven looked to the twins, "If you would like something to do then you could get some extra blankets." She suggested and the twins nodded before hurrying off. This left One, Seven, and Eight alone in the room. A few seconds passed before Eight pulled One to the side, Seven now sitting beside the yawning Artist.
Six noticed that One and Eight were talking about something. One looked at Eight with a suspicious look while Eight looked surprisingly desperate. He wondered if the Guard was trying to get out of watching him and was feeling a bit down about it. This soon changed when the Leader, looking exasperated, approached Seven, "Can you come with me into the hall? We need to have a conversation." Seven raised a stitched brow before sighing, "I assume it will be a loud conversation." Then she looked to the Artist, "This will only take a second. Are you okay being alone?"
But Six wouldn't be alone, which he just realized, he would be with Eight. He gave a forced smile and nodded before watching her leave with One. Now he was alone, with Eight, and kept his mismatched optics on the floor. He could just imagine that Eight tricked One to leave just so they could be alone, so that he could tell that Artist how much he hated him and wished he had died, and Six was hating his decision to let Seven go. He could feel Eight's optics upon him and felt very out of place, pulling his legs up to his chest once again.
"Six." Eight suddenly spoke and it felt odd to hear him call him something other than 'freak'. He hadn't noticed it the first time but now it clearly felt better. However, Six wasn't oblivious and he didn't look over, he still didn't know whether this was an elaborate trap. "We need to talk." The Guard insisted and came forward to stand beside the striped one. It was very awkward; neither had ever socialized without the bullying and Eight forced himself to crouch down. It just felt so strange to be actually trying to speak with Six.
Maybe it was because, after Six's yelling fit, he didn't seem as much like an object then he had before. Now there was actually a Stitchpunk before him, not an object to bully, and it was difficult to deal with it because then it would mean realizing that he really had tormented the other to this point. "I need to know, Six, did this happen because of me?" Six slowly looked over to Eight and stared at him. Eight was clearly upset and wanted answers, but Six wasn't sure which ones he would give.
He could tell Eight it was all his fault, but that would be a lie. He could tell Eight is had nothing to do with him, but that would be a lie as well. So instead he merely answered with, "Was a lot of things." He murmured. Technically he didn't put the blame on Eight or not, but Eight didn't look content so he looked down once again. "It's over. I'm not doing it again." He insisted as to get Eight to back down, but he still didn't. "You did it once. Just because you're saying you won't doesn't mean you won't." He pointed out before rubbing his head.
"Look, I know I haven't been good to you." He explained, "But if I thought it was messing with you that much, if I thought you were going to hurt yourself I would've backed down." Six found his voice reacting without his consent, "I didn't think you would care. You didn't like me." Six whispered in admittance with a tone that sounded pitifully beaten down. The Guard immediately responded, clearly confused, "I didn't hate you. I didn't even didn't like you. I just- I don't know, I don't know what I was doing."
His voice went quiet and he looked at the cot. Six looked back to Eight again and could clearly see his distress. It was almost as though the Guard really did feel bad about this. That's when the larger added in, "But I do know it's not happening again." Six's head shot up and Eight continued, "I'm not going to defend myself for acting like some sort oaf that just walks around and randomly attacks people, but I'm not doing it again. You can hold me to it, alright?" The Artist stared at him briefly, just staring, and then a small smile overtook his face.
"So… So maybe we could be friends?" He asked innocently and when Eight's stitched brow raised in confusion Six's striped face dropped, "I mean, because we're not going to- because you aren't going to do that anymore… I still want to be something." Then he quietly admitted, "I don't blame you for what happened, Eight. You hurt me, but at least I knew you'd be there, I could always count that you'd be there." If anything, this made Eight feel much worse, but he hid it, "I think we can pull that off."
He actually smiled and this immediately triggered Six to smile as well. He was instantly forgiving; if Eight was willing to change and if the others were willing to help him then he was willing to forget everything that had happened in the past. The Guard reached forward and ruffled Six's yarn in an affectionate manner, a manner that Six had never felt before from Eight. He released a soft bit of laughter, drawn out from the action, and Eight let his hand fall. Maybe it was Six's imagination, but it almost felt as though Eight's hand slowed when it brushed his cheek.
"Come on, let's go." Eight suddenly spoke before standing and Six blinked in confusion before asking, "Go where?" The Guard thumbed back towards the direction of Six's room, if they were in the hall, and Six perked. "Oh, to my room, right…" He stood, swaying a bit, and followed behind Eight into the hall. He was somewhat hesitant about returning to his room. That was his main place of torment and he feared it would return. However, Eight placed a hand on his back to coax him along, unintentionally making Six unable to turn around.
It was a slight comfort though as they headed down the hall before entering Six's room. Five and Nine were on the floor trying to clean some of the puddle of ink with a few rags, but it had already dried. One and Seven were now in the room as well with the Leader inciting that Two not kneel down to clean because of his legs. The twins soon followed Six and Eight in, carrying new blankets, and headed over to work on the bed. "There you are." Seven smiled in a greeting fashion and the others now turned to look at him.
It was a little embarrassing, but Six was beginning to like the attention. He looked to the black spot and was confused, "I don't remember spilling ink." He pointed out and the others didn't respond. Apparently Six couldn't remember the ink pouring out of him, or perhaps didn't even acknowledge that it had happened, and Five made an excuse. "It was me. I kicked the inkwell in surprise when I found you, but we found more downstairs." Nine perked, "Yeah, that inkwell in the shelf. That would be more than enough ink for a long time. Should I go get it?"
"Later on." One instructed and Six guessed that they were hesitant to leave him alone. Before he could think it over, Two spoke, "Well, it's finished!" He chimed to the others, "Three and Four, you two have done a magnificent job." He complimented the twins before slyly remarking, "Perhaps next you can find the time to fix my bed." He suggested playfully and both twins seemed eager before Seven added, "That would have been sweet, Two…" Then she got her own sly look, "But it reminded me of an odd comment you made earlier about you and One-."
"This is not about Two's beds or his tongue slipping and him saying foolish things that don't exist." One insisted desperately, "This is about Six getting some much needed rest." Attention didn't shift from One completely, but Six did take this as a cue to approach his fixed bed. He was becoming increasingly tired and as he sat down on the newly fixed bed his body was giving out. The blankets were soft and clean, a welcome change, and he laid down on the bed. He then looked around to the others who were still either talking or working, though moving closer to his bed.
"Are… Are you going to stay?" Six asked worriedly to anyone in particular and Seven answered him, "Of course! Unless we're bothering you." The Artist immediately defended, "No, you're not, no." He rushed out. Five now stood and approached the bed before sitting down on the foot, sighing a bit, "I don't think it matters if we clean the ink now or later, we'll probably need turpentine to get it off." Two patted his shoulder affectionately before sitting down alongside him, and as they crowded in Six felt safe instead of feeling claustrophobic.
Even when the twins crawled in on the other side of Six and cuddled into him affectionately. He reached out stroked the head of the closest one gently so that his sharp fingers didn't catch the hood or anything. Eight also moved to lean against the wall and stand beside him, watching One who was stubbornly trying to convince Seven that she misheard Two. Everyone was here with him, everyone was sacrificing their time to be with him, and at that moment he realized he had made a grave mistake. "I almost… I almost gave this up. I almost lost everything. My life, my home, my family."
He found a weary smile crossing his face, "I was wrong. If they will do this for me then they have to be my family… Then I really am one of them, not just because I was made to be." His thoughts trailed off as he began to drift away to sleep. The chance of a nightmare didn't scare him anymore, he didn't care if he had them, because the others were going to be here and that was worth going through the nightmares for.
This was the family to whom he belonged and he loved them; he wasn't going to let that go ever again.
FIN
Mable: Life can be hard, but there's always someone who loves you who will be there. Maybe it's family, maybe it's a friend, or maybe it's someone you have yet to meet. Sometimes life may seem too difficult to go through, but that doesn't mean to give up, there's always something to live for. Try to find help before you make such a drastic decision.
I hope everyone enjoyed!