A/N: Yay, chapter two~
For those of you who read the first chapter, just make sure that you read the EDITED version. You'll know if you did if you read the author's note and you saw the bold print saying "EDIT".
Anyway, I hope you enjoy chapter two. Reviews are nice (I'm so happy I got one!)
Disclaimer: "9" and its story and characters do not belong to me -- they belong to Shane Acker and Focus Features.
The following characters belong to me: Uncle, Rikki, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 21.
+ Chapter Two +
- C R E A T I O N -
"Uncle!!"
I flung myself off of the counter and slammed my feet on the tiled floor, causing pain to shoot quickly from my toes to my ankles. I stumbled and fell back against a chair belonging to the dining room table. An apple rolled off of the edge and hit the floor, rolling away. I kept my eyes on the sink. I wasn't afraid of the doll, per say. I was more afraid because it was moving. The only reason it should have been moving was if…
If it had a soul.
"Uncle!" I cried again, but not for help this time. I cried his name because he told me he would wait. He told me he would put the stitchpunks away until he thought he was going to die.
I'm pretty sure he wasn't going to die!
I metallic clinking came from inside the sink, as if claws were scratching against the side of the sink. I heard groaning and slow, heavy footsteps approach the kitchen.
"What the hell, Rikki?" my uncle groaned, flipping up the switch for the kitchen lights. The kitchen was bright, and my uncle squinted. He was in his night-attire – black sweatpants and a worn out, too large Rolling Stones band t-shirt. His brown hair was a mess, curling and twisting over his sleep-deprived eyes. "What do you want so damn early in the morning?" he growled.
"T-Ten!" I stuttered, pointing at the sink, which still made the strange sounds. My uncle gave me a squinted stare, then rubbed his eyes and turned to the sink.
"Ten what?" he asked.
"10! T-The doll!" I started over to the sink, but my uncle put his hand up, signaling me to stop. He slid his slipper-clad feet across the tiles to the sink and peered in. The scratching stopped.
"10? How did you get up here?" my uncle asked. I heard a quiet voice as I stared at my uncle in disbelief. "I know you heard my niece wandering, but that didn't mean you had to get worried – oh, right."
"…Uncle." He looked away from the sink and up at me.
"Rikki?"
"You said you would wait."
"Did I?"
"Yes." In response, he shrugged. I walked closer to him, my eyes still filled with disbelief. "You said you would hide them until you thought you were going to die!" I cried.
"Rikki, don't be so loud—"
"Uncle! You lied!" He put a hand over his eyes and slouched, taking in a deep breath. I stared at him for a little longer, then darted my eyes toward the sink. 10 looked up at me, then looked down at his fumbling hands.
"U-U-Um, ah-are you alright, Rikki?" he asked me quietly, looking up at me slightly. I blinked at him.
"Yeah, I'm okay…10." It was strange, calling something by a number. I looked up at my uncle, and he looked at me.
"I know I promised," he muttered. "But, I have a good reason."
"And what would that be?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked him. I heard 10 scratching and clawing at the sink again, and I placed my hand inside. He clambered into my palm, and I pulled him out and placed him on the counter.
"It means, that you'll find out what my good reason is behind creating 10 already." He pulled a coarse hand through his tousled hair. "Now, get back to bed. And 10!" 10 looked up at his creator. "No more venturing around unless Rikki's with you. Got it?"
"Yes." 10 waved at my uncle as he turned around to go back to bed. I frowned at my uncle's back. He always gave me a goodnight kiss on the cheek, no matter what time it was that I was crawling in to bed. What was wrong with him?
I covered my mouth as I yawned, and I rubbed my eyes before looking at the time. "Good God, it's nearly 3:30…" I muttered. I turned to 10, who was walking around the counter. He tried to pick up a piece of cereal that had fallen out of the bowl during breakfast the morning before, but his copper fingers crunched through the oat, breaking it apart. He cringed.
"Oops," he muttered.
"It's alright, 10. Someone will pick it up in the morning – 10, you don't have to pick it up…" I sighed as he gathered the broken pieces in his arms.
"I was the one who broke it, so it's my responsibility," he told me with a smile. I shook my head, smiling.
"Alright, fine. But," I held my hand out, "it's my responsibility to throw them out, then." The look he made told me he rejected the idea, but placed the broken pieces onto my hand. "Thank you." I walked over next to the fridge where the trash can sat, opened the lid, and flung the pieces inside. I looked back at 10. "Time for bed, I guess." He nodded, and I held out my hand for him to climb on. He did so, and sat on my palm.
"Rikki, is it?" he asked quietly.
"Mhm," I replied, just as quiet. I walked into my room and shut the door as quietly as I could behind me. "I mean, my real name is Kimberly, but I prefer Rikki." I placed 10 on a small decorative pillow that was near my own pillow.
"If you don't mind me asking, how do you get Rikki out of Kimberly?" he asked. He sat down on the pillow as I lied down.
"I have no idea. My uncle started calling me that when I was little. I guess he found the connection, and he liked it." I yawned again and pulled the covers over me.
"Ah, I suppose I should let you sleep," he whispered. I nodded a little bit before opening my eyes and looking at him.
"Do you sleep?" I asked. In the movie, I hadn't seen any of them sleep, but maybe the ones my uncle made were different?
"I suppose. I'm not…what's the word…"
"Tired?" I tried for him.
"Yes, that! I'm not really all that tired right now. Too excited," he told me with a smile.
"Excited?" I questioned. I rolled over on my side so I could see him. "About what?"
"This new world! I want to explore it!" He threw his arms up and smiled wide. His elbows bent a little bit, and he looked at me. "Explore it with you, of course," he added, pointing at me.
"Me? Really?" I asked him.
"Well, the man who created me said I could only explore if you were with me, so yes! I want you to be with me when I explore." He put his arms down and relaxed against the pillow, which now looked huge against him.
"So, you really only came upstairs to explore?" I asked. I held back a yawn. I didn't want him to know I was tired. I wanted to keep talking.
"Partially. I mostly came up here because it sounded like someone was having trouble getting to sleep, and…something made me come up here to help." He climbed off of the pillow and walked towards me. "And I was right; someone did have trouble falling asleep. And it just so happened to be you." He smiled at me. He then took a seat next to my head. "So, why can't you get to sleep?"
I rolled over onto my back so I was staring at the ceiling. "I don't know. I guess I felt guilty."
"Guilty about what?" It felt like I was talking to a therapist or something.
"I got into a little argument with my uncle before, and it was a really stupid argument that I got angry over. I guess I felt guilty that I got mad at him over such a small thing." I closed my eyes and sighed. It really was stupid.
"What were you two fighting about?"
"Whether I could make a stitchpunk or not – a fake one, at that."
"A…A stitchpunk?" he questioned. He sounded confused.
"A stitchpunk is what you are," I explained. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw 10 look down at himself.
"Learn something new everyday," he muttered to himself.
"My uncle says that all the time," I smiled. "But, yeah, we had an argument over whether or not I could make a fake one. He said I couldn't, which I thought was really stupid, so I got angry."
"Well, do you know why he said you couldn't make a fake…snatchpunk?"
"Stitchpunk," I corrected. "And, I have no idea. He told me they were dangerous, which is a total lie, because you're not dangerous whatsoever."
10 was quiet for a moment. I shifted my eyes to look at him. He had a hand wrapped around his chin and a finger tapping it thoughtfully. "Maybe he thought you weren't responsible enough. Or, he was afraid that you would make a fake one real."
I sighed deeply as I closed my eyes again, and a long yawn escaped. "Ahh, maybe…"
"You're tired, Rikki. I'll let you get some sleep." I heard him walk over my pillow and over to my ear, and he pressed his mouth against my earlobe softly. "See you when you wake up."
I stayed quiet for a little while. He was so…fatherly. "See you, 10."
I heard him walk back to his pillow, and the boat to dreamland finally let me on board.
-
"Frederick, what is wrong with you?"
My mother's voice in the morning can wake anyone up. I was certainly no exception. My eyes opened slowly, and everything was blurry. I blinked a few times and yawned, stretching my arms over my head, intertwining my finger and stretching them. I put my arms down and pulled myself up into a sitting position. I looked at my windows first – another grey, miserable, rainy day to pump my spirits up. Yippee-frigging-doo.
A slid my legs over the side of my bed and stretched my back, creating a few pops. I rubbed my eyes again and sighed. I had a pretty good night's sleep.
"Good morning, Rikki," a voice said behind me. I turned around and saw 10 still sitting on the pillow, looking as awake as ever.
"Morning, 10," I greeted. "Did you even sleep?"
He shook his head. "I guess I just don't sleep." He shrugged, then stood up and tried walking across the bed. He fell a couple of times because of the design of the mattress, but he finally got to the edge closest to me. "Did I help you sleep at all?"
I thought back to the extremely early morning, where he went therapist on me. "Actually, yeah, I think you did," I recalled. He beamed.
"That's good."
"Fred-er-rick!" my mother screamed. I cringed, and 10 stared in pain at my bedroom door.
"Is…everything okay out there?" he asked nervously.
"No…" I groaned. I carefully sat next to him on the bed, but he still managed to fall over because of the weight shift. "Sorry." He waved a hand at me, which told me, "It's fine."
"What's the problem out there?" he asked.
"My mom and my uncle fight a lot. About everything. I'm not really sure why, but I guess because they're brother and sister, it's a natural thing."
"Natural? I don't think siblings should fight. They should work together and be there for each other." He climbed up onto my thigh and crawled over to my knee to sit on.
"I wouldn't really know. I'm a single child. I've never had a brother or sister." I leaned back on my hands a little bit. "And, the way my mom and uncle act around each other, I'm pretty thankful." I heard 10 sigh quietly. I watched his shoulder slump forward and his head hang down.
"I wonder what went wrong between them…" he muttered.
"I wouldn't worry about it so much. They've been like this for as long as I can remember. As far as I know, it won't change." I stretched my neck a little bit, rolling it around. "But, I guess I agree; siblings shouldn't argue all the time like they do."
10 turned around on my knee and looked at me. "I'm guessing you just hide in here until it's all done?"
"You got it. It's a warzone out there. My dad hides, too. In his office, trying to distract himself with work. You know, I once made the mistake of walking out there when they were fighting – God, I ran away and hid with my dad. It was the scariest think I ever saw." I sat up straight and ran my fingers through my hair, pulling out knots.
"Those poor people…" 10 sighed. I watched him turn back around and slouch. He placed his elbows on his thighs and place his chin in his hands. "I feel sorry for them.
We stayed silent until the yelling of my mother died down a little bit, and I held my hand out for 10 to climb on. He did so, and I stood, carrying him to the kitchen. I placed him on the counter and muttered quietly, "Don't say anything for the next ten minutes or so. They'll go on rampage." He nodded a little bit with a frown and sat on the edge of the counter, letting his legs dangle over the side. I left him where he was to grab the cereal from the cabinet. The closer I got to my uncle and mother sitting at the dining room table, the more audible their mutters were.
"Stupid, conceited, crazy asshole…" my mother muttered, scratching her nail against her coffee cup while pretending to read a magazine.
"Annoying, loud, dumb bitch…" my uncle muttered back, making random scribbles on a crossword puzzle from yesterday's paper.
I sighed in my head, grabbed the cereal and milk, and pulled a bowl out from over 10's head. I poured the milk into the cereal and put a spoonful into my mouth. I leaned against the counter beside 10, only watching my cereal.
Even though he knew the 10-minute-no-talking rule, 10 muttered to me, "You don't sit at the table?"
I shook my head and swallowed another spoonful. "No, not when they fight," I muttered as quietly as I could back to him.
"Rikki, be quiet!" my uncle yelled. I held my breath and waited for him to look back down at his paper. When he did, I let the air waiting in my lungs out. I looked at 10, as if saying, "See what I mean?"
10 didn't look at my mother or my uncle, or me for that matter; he watched his feet as he swung them slightly, right forward, left back, vice versa, and vice versa again.
I quietly set my bowl in the sink, took 10 in my hand, and walked back into my room.
"I can't believe it," 10 said to me, astonished. "They, they act like children!"
"I know they do," I replied. I set 10 down on my dresser and ran my hairbrush through my hair slowly. He sat on top of a compact mirror lying next to a half-open bottle of mascara. I looked down at him and noticed his saddened face. "You'll get used to it. Trust me."
He sighed, but said nothing. I felt sorry for him, really – it seemed like he would never get used to my mother and uncle fighting until he fixed the case and created peace between them. It wouldn't happen, I knew that for sure.
10 stood up and walked around the mascara bottle, and jumped on top of my jewelry case. He stood on it and looked in the mirror in front of him. He picked his hand up slowly and touched the green and purple-striped patch that was sewn on the top of his head. He ran his fingers over the black stitching around it. He then looked at his torso, where the row of five clear buttons kept his dark brown burlap skin together. He undid the first two top buttons and saw the voice box. He redid the buttons and looked at himself in the mirror. He flashed himself a smile.
"Man, I'm cool," he exclaimed. I snorted, and covered my nose and mouth with my hand. He sounded like a father trying to embarrass his kid.
That thought alone made my hand drop and my expression change. "Oh, my God," I muttered. I looked at 10, who was looking back at me. I looked at the hallway through my open door, in the direction where my uncle was. "Oh, my God," I repeated.
"What's wrong?" 10 asked worriedly, turning all the way around to face me. I looked back down at him. I thought I was going to cry. I took a deep breath to suppress the tears.
"My…My uncle. I can't believe he did it…"
"Did what, Rikki?" 10 walked across the box slowly and put his small copper hand against my hand, which was on top of the case.
"He put a part of his soul into you…" I muttered. I took another deep breath.
"Well, yes, Rikki…that's how I'm alive." He sat on top of my hand and patted it softly. "Rikki, what's wrong?"
"10…it's…" I closed my eyes. "It's like you're my dad."
10 cocked his head to the side. "I don't understand Rikki?"
"It's why my uncle didn't kiss me goodnight, and why he yelled at me. He put that part of his soul into you."
10 paused for a moment, putting his hand on his chin the way he did when he was thinking. "Are you saying…that he put the 'fatherly' part of his soul…into me?"
I nodded. "Yeah," I whispered. "He did that. And I know why."
"Why Rikki?"
I stumbled backwards onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. "I remember, earlier this morning, he said that I would find out soon enough why he created you so soon. And I know why." 10 waited, and I rubbed my eyes. "He's showing me what it'll be like to be taking care of all of you guys once he's gone. And he's showing me that he really does care for me." I remembered out fight the night before. "When he told me I couldn't make one, it wasn't because he was being stupid. It was just because he cared enough for me that he didn't want me to get hurt. His fatherly instincts were right there. And, I guess…" I sat up and looked at 10. "I guess the outcome of his fatherly instincts taking over his soul, is you."
10 sat on my jewelry box. "I see…" He looked at me. "Rikki, are you mad at him for it?"
"No," I replied. I shook my head. "No, just…in disbelief, I guess. Only because he promised he wouldn't create any of you guys until he felt he was going to die…which, I think, is a good thirty or forty years from now." I looked at 10, and smirked a little bit. "On the upside, I'm kind of glad he created you. You're a pretty cool guy, 10."
10 flashed a smile. "Thanks, Rikki."
"No, thank you, 10. You're really like my second dad, now, as weird as that sounds." I sighed, and held out my hand for him. He stepped on my palm, and I brought him closer to me. "Thanks, 10."
"Of course, Rikki."
---
"I put all my g e n i u s into my l i f e; I put only my t a l e n t into my w o r k s."
-Oscar Wilde
A/N:Reviews are very nice (: They make me write better chapters and inspire me.
-Abby
