Eight observed the strange Stitchpunk quietly. He was petting the Cat Beast. He'd watched their interactions for a year, yet he hadn't told One. The Stitchpunk didn't seem inclined to meet them, and he didn't pose a threat. The Cat Beast and the Winged Beast did, but they seemed to be under the control of this Stitchpunk, who had a nine inked onto his back. Nine hadn't offered any violence the two times he'd been spotted, so Eight didn't care to report him. But still…

Eight finally made up his mind. He would go see what this Stitchpunk was doing. He pulled his blade, glancing at the Cat Beast often as he made his way over. The machine spotted him first. There was a soft growl and Eight slowed, keeping his knife pointed at the beast. Nine shied away, hiding behind the feline, though he did peek his head around the face of the creature.

"Come here," Eight commanded. Nine shook his head. "Why not?"

Nine pointed shyly at the blade. Eight frowned then gestured at the cat.

"I don't trust that thing."

Nine blinked then pointed at the knife again. He made a throwing away motion then pointed at the Cat Beast and made a shooing motion. Eight's frown deepened.

"Let me get this straight. You'll send that thing away if I put my blade down?"

Nine nodded.

"Well I won't put my blade down until you send that thing away."

Nine stepped out and crossed the left side of his chest.

"Cross my heart, Or soul. Or whatever," Eight replied.

Nine nodded and tapped on the cat's head. When the great machine looked at him, Nine started making gestures with his hands. Eight watched carefully as the beast turned and trotted a good distance away, far enough that he safe and sheathed his blade. Eight approached, and Nine stared at his feet.

"You're shy." Nine nodded. "That's fine. What are your intentions with the machines?"

Nine looked embarrassed and touched his throat. His mouth moved and nothing came out. Eight snorted.

"You're like those stupid twins. You can't speak."

Nine shook his head and drew a question mark then held up three fingers, paused, then held up four.

"Yeah, Three and Four. They're mute. They're so annoying. All they do is skitter around, cataloguing everything. They're bonded to everybody, including me, but they don't even bother talking to anybody but each other. When they do, they use big words that confuse me. They don't even attempt to tell me what any of them mean. I can't help that I'm dumb."

Nine frowned and shook his head.

"But I am dumb. I can't do anything right except fight."

Nine tilted his head. The unspoken question burned in Eight's mind.

"No. I'm not really good at anything. I tried drawing but all that came out on the page was dots and lines and strange symbols."

Nine drew another question mark.

"I don't know. I just try to draw what's in my head, like Six does, but all that comes out is weird looking. I can hear music with it, but I don't understand why."

Nine pointed at his optics then to his chest.

"Show you? If I had some paper and ink, sure."

Nine gestured at him and Eight followed him into the library. Soon he was drawing his strange little symbols. First he drew five horizontal lines across the page, set close together. Then he drew a curved and curly symbol, followed by a 'c'. Nine was fascinated. He understood what it was, but he kept watching to see what notes he would write.

As the notes were painted on the page, the tune popped into Nine's head. He began swaying back and forth in time with the music. When Eight was done, Nine bent over the page and played the first note. He tried several instruments before settling on a fiddle. He played each note slowly until the song was finished. Then he played it again, slightly faster. He did it again and again until the notes blended together in a perfect song. Eight was stunned.

"It's music?"

Nine nodded with a small smile.

"I came up with that?"

Another nod and Eight slowly smiled. He puffed his chest out and his smile turned into a proud beam.

"Play it again!"

Nine obeyed and Eight swayed to the music.

"Mm, I like that. That's exactly what I heard in my head! I've never heard the tunes out loud before. Can you do that with all of my music?"

Nine nodded. He grabbed a clean sheet of paper and began to write.

"I'd be glad to. But I must ask you to trust me, and not to report me to One. He wouldn't understand me. I'm not even sure if you would understand me. Please?"

"Trust you? I-I don't know Nine. I don't trust easy. It took me years to trust the others completely."

"I understand. But I won't translate your music for you unless you do. You are not obligated to trust me, but I won't just give you your desires unless you trust me."

"Ob…obligated?" Eight asked, feeling stupid. He was relieved when Nine didn't look irritated, but answered calmly.

"It means to bind or compel…I guess I'm giving you a compelling reason to trust me, but I don't want you to feel too pressured. Anyway, I'm tired. I'm going to go home and rest."

"Okay. I'll think about what you said."

"If you decide to trust me, bring your next piece of music to me and I'll translate it. If you don't…Anyway, goodbye."

"Bye."

With that, Nine set the makeshift pen down and stood. He walked several steps away then whistled. The Cat Beast trotted over and knelt down to let Nine get on him. The youngest Stitchpunk waved with a kind smile before the machine took a bounding leap away. Eight stared after him then looked down at the page.

Music. It was music that he drew onto paper. He hadn't even known that the songs in his head were real. He thought he was hallu…? Halluca…? Halluci…? He thought he was just crazy like Six was, not that he would tell anybody that. He smiled, looking down at the notes. He began to hum the music. He honestly didn't even know how he was reading it. He had trouble reading real books, but this flowed through his mind with ease, and each thing he understood, even if he wasn't completely sure what they meant con…? Consciously? Was that the right word? Maybe. He didn't care at the moment.

Eight stood and began walking home, but stopped before he left the library. He couldn't bring his paper into Sanctuary. The others wouldn't understand. They would make fun of him and call him stupid. He frowned and looked around. Where could he hide it? Tomorrow was the twins' one library day that they got every week. They were so curious that they would probably notice.

Eight spent an hour looking for a good hiding place and finally found one behind one of the shelves that the twins weren't allowed on. It talked about human biology and One didn't think it appro…? Appropri…?

The large Stitchpunk cursed out loud, feeling embarrassed; usually he didn't use so many big words, because he didn't understand them or remember them very well, and he was proving that point very well.

He hid the music and stomped home. He was about to storm to his room when One called him over. Eight was in no mood to talk to One, but he didn't dare disobey, so he slunk over and crossed his arms.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Report."

Eight didn't even think about it. "Nothin' new. Saw the Cat Beast poking around, but it left before I could chase it away."

One's optics narrowed and he frowned. "Nothing else?"

Eight could tell him about…No. He wanted his music too badly. He would lie to One for the first time ever.

"Nothin' else."

One hummed and nodded. "Fine. Go on."

Eight nodded and went to his room. Later that night, he snuck out and grabbed some fresh paper, a writing stick, and half a thimble full of ink, completely unaware of the optics watching him carefully. He sat down on his floor and took a deep breath. Music burst into his head and he began to write. He stayed up late that night, and worked on it throughout the next morning, too. When he finally put the writing stick down, he was exhausted, but the song was done. The music looked beautiful, but would it sound like it did in his head?