Here is Chapter 4! I want to thank each and every one of you for your kind reviews! They really mean a bunch to me. Well, not much to say, just keep on reading and reviewing!

~Cel

Chapter 4: Return To The Dead Battlefield

9 had scouted around the unfamiliar area for nearly twelve hours before he found a safe place where he could keep 2's fragile body protected from the harsh elements. It was a simple countryside house with buckling wood and a nearly-collapsed roof. However, it would do as a shelter for 9 and a safe place where he could keep his friends until their return. Once he had 2 safe, kept away from the outside world, 9 ran out into the wastelands to find the others. He didn't rest at all. The mission at hand was far too important now. 9 knew that all of his stupid mistakes had boiled down to this task he had been given.

9 began to head back where he had come – to the city. He walked for miles one day, not stopping once. He used landmarks that were familiar to him to lead him back into the city, to the place he knew where he needed to start. Retracing his steps, he was brought to the shell of what used to be a large building. However, most of it was burned away. It lay in the midst of an oil field, and the droning of the still-working oil pumps gave him the reassurance of familiarity.

9 ventured about, looking inside the shell of the ash-covered rubble. He looked around as he carefully stepped through the wreckage. Upon getting a closer look, 9 instantly recognized this building as the destroyed factory the Fabrication Machine had once resided in. It had been connected to the factory and they tried to kill it. It had somehow survived the fire and detonation and then came after them. He couldn't bear to think about what had happened afterwards. 9's heart fell and he felt very uncomfortable being in this place, but he knew he must continue.

9 knew that somewhere, hidden in this rubble, was 8, the guardian who he was too late to save. He looked all around, trying not to think of what had happened in this factory. All of those events played in his mind like a video 4 was showing to him. He remembered watching 7 being handed off to the Machine…running down a tunnel for his life as an army of Spider Beasts scuttled after him and 7…he inserted the talisman into the Fabrication Machine, awakening it…

9 pushed these recollections back as far as he could in his mind. He tried his paramount best to focus on the mission he was currently on and not think about the terrible past. He had to focus on the present now and what he had to do. Crawling slowly through the rubble, carefully so it wouldn't cave in on him, 9 looked all around for 8's body. As he searched, the young ragdoll began to become discouraged and frightened. What if 8's body didn't survive the massive explosion and later collapse of the factory? What if he had disintegrated into mere ash, never to return back to Earth…?

Then, much to his relief, 9 came across 8. He was lying limply underneath a slab of rock. Because he was concealed away, his body had miraculously survived the enormous blast. A piece of the ceiling or wall must have collapsed on top of him. His left arm, however, was slightly singed, but 9 had once watched 5 heal 7. He could do the same to 8.

Panting, he heaved 8's enormous body out of the wreckage. 8 was huge and heavy, but 9 was strong. He crawled back out of the rubble, dragging 8 with him. Finally, they were on level ground. 9 set 8 down with a huff, already worn out from merely dragging him out of the debris. He couldn't possibly drag 8 all the way to the old house. Looking around him, trying to figure out some sort of plan, 9 suddenly spotted a thin piece of rope lying around a splintered piece of wood. Getting to his feet, 9 walked over to the plank and seized the rope. He took it back to 8, where he left it as he walked back to the rubble. He grabbed a curved sheet of metal and took it back to where he had left the rope. Using a sharp rock, 9 cut two small holes in the corners of the sheet. He tied a strong knot in each hole with the rope. After doing this, 9 heaved 8's body into his arms and then gently set him onto the metal sheet. Taking the rope and slinging it over his shoulder, 9 proceeded to drag 8 home. He carefully maneuvered the rubble until he and 8 were nearly out of the remains of the factory.

Suddenly, 9 spotted an oddly familiar bar of metal sticking out of the debris nearby. 9 blinked and tilted his head curiously. He set 8 down and ran over to the bar, reaching down and removing the metal debris off of the bar – it was the remains of his light staff. He blinked in slight surprise. The only thing missing from it was the light bulb. There were glass shards sticking threateningly out from the base. The holder was intact, a bit bent on one side. 9 looked around the area where he kneeled. Reaching beside him, 9 picked up the battery, fallen out of the holder when the gears that killed the Seamstress shredded the bulb and it had fallen out. He unzipped his chest and deposited the battery inside of himself, taking the staff with him. He returned to 8, and slung the rope over his shoulders.

The old house appeared as if the human who once owned it had hastily moved to escape the war and left most of his or her possessions behind. There were old and tattered books. Dusty and broken furniture dotted nearly every corner. Rugs that were once soft covered some of the warped floorboards. The house was very large and vast, and 9 felt very alone and very small. Left to himself and his thoughts, he couldn't help but think of deadly green lights, glowing red eyes, and of course, the only family he had left…and the words that she had last said to him. 9 laid 8 to rest next to 2 and then turned, immediately going to continue his search. For a moment, he scoured around the house, trying to find some sort of sack or something he could carry around with him as he ventured out into the wastelands. He discovered a flat board with four wooden wheels attached. It appeared to be a toy car that used to belong to a child. Smiling slightly, 9 was inspired by his memory of 2's roller skate cart he had used in the Emptiness. Using the rope from the metal sheet, 9 made himself a little cart.

As he set out once more, walking through the house, the rope slung over his shoulder, he vaguely looked up to one of the other desks. On it was a dormant lamp, bent over the desk and covered in rust and ash. Inside the shade of the cone lamp, there lay a grime-covered, very small light bulb. Before ascending the drawers, 9 picked out the splintered pieces of glass from the previous light bulb.

Once done, 9 scrambled up the drawers and unscrewed the light bulb from the lamp, just as he had once watched 5 do. He had a sudden vision of 5, when they had made the light staff together before venturing into the factory to save 2. Bending his head, he took a deep breath to try and steady himself. He dropped the battery into the holder, then fitted the bulb in the socket. It almost immediately lit up, and 9 gave a faint smile, which disappeared almost as fast as it had appeared on his face.

"2 would be impressed…"

"We'll find him…"

He shook his head, trying to push this memory to the back of his mind along with all the others and wrapped his fist around the staff. Raising his head with the most determination he could muster, he began to venture out into the wastelands once more…

9 blinked as he looked upon the dead Fabrication Machine, lying desolately and lifelessly in the dust. He could only stare at it, the feelings within him waging a war even he couldn't explain. This monster before him had caused him and his friends so much pain and it had torn his coven apart. 9 walked slowly around it, images and memories flashing through his mind. He remembered standing his ground as the force of the talisman's power nearly knocked him backwards. He remembered trying to run away, out from underneath the toppling Machine, and failing to do so. He remembered the sudden blackness overcoming him…and waking up to see her beautiful face…

He closed his eyes. Thinking of 7 was too painful. 9 understood that she was angry with him. He wanted to lead them on some other trek when the twins were already exhausted. She was the twins' big sister, there was no question about that. It meant that she protected them, no matter what, or who, got in her way.

However, the words she had spoken had ripped his heart to shreds and each time he thought of them, it hurt. She was his closest friend, but at this moment in time, he didn't know if he was ever going to see her again. Opening his eyes, he approached the dead Machine slowly, thinking of how this soulless murderer had taken so many of his friends away from him. Even in death, the horrific monster still looked deadly and foreboding. 9 squeezed himself underneath its frame, looking all over for the one who had aborted his sacrifice, giving his own life instead: 1.

9 walked around underneath the hollow frame between its sections and lifted a large gear. He paused only for a second to glance at a single cable lying on the ground, fallen from the towering Machine above. He remembered 7 smiling widely at him in relief as he regained his consciousness…and how she had embraced him tightly. He shook his head in irritation at himself.

"No." He told himself softly. 9 couldn't think about 7 right now. There were more important matters to deal with. He threw the gear to the side of him, wincing as his weak shoulder gave a small shot of dull pain. 9 immediately clutched it, sighing sadly. Ignoring the dull throbbing in the ball of his shoulder, he looked sadly at 1's crumpled figure, lying on the ground before him. He walked to 1 and kneeled beside him, turning him gently to lie on his back. 1 stared up at him lifelessly, broken. His eyes were wide and blank, his mouth agape.

9 picked up his limp left arm as he looked over the dead elder and examined his crippled hand. He winced, knowing that he would have to somehow heal his hand. Looking around him, he found a thin piece of metal fallen from the Fabrication Machine's body. It seemed crude, but it would have to do. He placed it on his cart and carefully picked up the crumpled old man, cradling him in his arms. 9 looked down at the man who had hated him with sadness, wondering how 1 would react when he was brought back to his body. He then turned, and began the trek back, giving the dead Fabrication Machine one final glance…

9 soon lost track of time as the days passed, blurring together as he went to nearly every place he had been in his short life. He retrieved his coven's once-belongings: 1's staff, cape and crown (he managed to find an entrance to the floor of the burned-down cathedral), 8's weapons, 5's utility bag, and, with a pang of regret and shame, 7's skullmet, her spear and her shield. As he looked down at the shield he held tightly in his hands, 9 made himself a promise to return to them soon. He wouldn't leave them behind…if he could ever find them again…

9 didn't have a very relevant reason for collecting their old possessions. The weapons would no longer be needed – they were going to live in a safe and quiet world. However, 9 felt as if he needed a respite from looking upon the dead stitchpunks day after day. Also, he wanted their new life to be like before – like nothing bad had ever happened…like 9 had never come to the coven and awakened the Machine. Collecting these things helped him to reassure himself that everything was going to be okay. 9 was determined to make everything right once more, like they had never died and he hadn't interfered with them. He even scoured the lands around him for an entire day before he found a silver candle holder. Very diligently, he constructed a new top hat for 2. Although it was not complex or skillfully made (as 2 himself would have made it), it would do for him when he woke.

9 was walking out in the vast Emptiness in the dead of night. Every star in the sky was completely hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds. Wind blew desolately through the silent city. 9 was travelling through the barren outskirts of the city, where nothing existed but vast, dry fields of rock and dirt. He looked around, trying to spot familiar landmarks through the darkness of the night. Suddenly, he came upon an old record player lying against some splintering wooden boards. Spiked wire fences surrounded it, and tall radio towers made shadowed silhouettes against the sky. 9 could only stare at the record player, however. He walked up to it very slowly, his heart thudding against his chest.

Lifting a hand, he ran his fingers across the crank, slowly trailing them along the side. This created large indents in the dust that covered the entire record player, giving a hint to its long-time dormancy. 9 stared at it for a moment, remembering very clearly what had happened beside this record player. His hands curling into fists, 9 bent forward and rested his forehead against the side of the record player for a moment. He felt the sadness coming over him. 9 had avoided this particular spot because he knew how much pain this would cause him. He took a deep breath in order to compose himself, then looked up to the dry oil barrens in front of him…

5's body was lying, limp and lifeless, in the dirt before him. His head was turned away from 9, his figure sprawled out on the ground. 9 sighed softly and walked towards 5 slowly. As he approached his friend's body, he knelt beside him. Reaching forward with a shaking hand, 9 took 5's cold shoulder, turning him to face him. 9 forced himself not to recoil when he saw 5's destroyed eye patch and the hole where his other eye had once been. 9 sank to his knees, feeling the pain overwhelming him. It was nearly too much.

Seeing his best friend, lying lifelessly in the dirt and knowing that he did this to him…it hurt him terribly. Bending down, 9 gently slid his arms underneath 5. He wrapped his arms around the Healer's cold form and brought him into his lap, rocking him gently. 9 couldn't hold the soft, strangled sob within him as he dropped his forehead to touch his best friend's.

"I miss you, 5." He whispered softly, closing his eyes. 9 sighed heavily, hugging 5 close. A war of emotions clashed within him. Looking up to the sky, wondering if 5 had heard him from the World Between, 9 saw something sparkling in-between the clouds. It was a little lost star, twinkling brightly against the dark backdrop of the night sky. The star watched over the lonely world, keeping a constant, silent vigil. 9 had watched this very same star every night since the Machine had been killed. Most often, 7 had been by his side, and in that moment, he wondered if she was looking at the same star…and missing him just as he missed her.

7 was kneeling next to the twins and covering the deeply asleep stitchpunks with a soft, ragged cloth while a small wind whistled past them. She felt so alone, even with her two small brothers. In this moment of silence, she found herself feeling very alone. 7 looked up to the sky, and to the same, dull-looking star. 7 deeply regretted hurting 9, the memory of the heartbreaking expression on his face persistently pestering her. She caught herself remembering when she almost lost him, when he was nearly crushed to death by the Machine. In those agony-filled seconds when she held him to her, believing that he was dead…those moments were probably the worst of her life.

Especially then, she felt alone. So alone. She sighed and bent her head, missing her friend dearly. She wished she had ignored her pride and ran after him, like she had wanted to after he left. So many questions floated around in her mind…where was he now? Was he alright, or hurt? Would she ever see him again? Was he right, were the dead stitckpunk's souls trapped?

Looking up again, she remembered the last time she had said he was wrong, when he wasn't. It had saved their friend's souls and killed the Fabrication Machine.

"They're free now," she had said. He wasn't wrong. She was. Furrowing her brow, she made up her mind as she stared into the darkness.

No matter the costs, she was going to find him.

The next day, 9 stood looking down into the mist of a dangerously deep ravine. The remains of a splintered wooden and metal bridge were strewn all around him, and he remembered all too well this is where the visionary he once knew lost his life. 6.

He tied a rope he had found in his travels tightly around one of the broken beams sticking out of the rocky ground without hesitation. 9 tied the other end around his waist, and clutched it tightly with his hands. Taking a deep breath of the early morning air, he began the slow, but sure, descent into the deep ravine.

The weak sunlight soon disappeared as he entered the bank of forever mists that hovered over the ravine. It was becoming hard to see as the darkness seemed to swallow him – therefore he kept close to the wall, his movements becoming slow and careful. After a tedious moment, he was out of the mist bank, and although it was a dark grey, he could see what lay at the bottom of the ravine. There were many stones, and a wide, yet shallow river. 9 had never felt so small than he did in those moments. The ravine was very large, and it had taken over forty-five minutes for the small ragdoll to reach the bottom. But he had much patience and he was safe.

9 also felt extremely alone. He felt as if he was the last being on Earth, with no one to talk to, no one to laugh with, no hand to hold reassuringly. He wanted the twins. He wanted 7. He wanted to go back to them. However, he knew he couldn't abandon the mission now. 9 continued to walk himself down the vertical cliff face until his feet finally touched the bottom. He untied his waist and looked around.

It was very dark. Mists covered area around him and he couldn't see the other wall, but he could just make out the other bank of the river. The ground below was moist dirt. There were no plants, for the mists that created thick clouds high above his head obscured the sun, preventing any life from reaching this area. If front of him was the river. Stones created a path across it, so 9 wouldn't have to get wet again. Looking around, he spotted a black-and-white banded body, broken and lying in a small groove of rocks, the water calmly splashing along his delicate, nib fingers on the other bank. 9 crossed the river and went to the crumpled figure of 6.

He was virtually unbroken, but his shoulder seemed dislocated and possibly broken. a small tear ripping through his striped skin. Sighing, 9 picked 6's limp, lifeless body up carefully from the rocks, seeing that even in death, he looked peaceful as he once did in his spirit form. 9 grasped the rope tightly, and began to ascend to the world above. Even more slowly than the descent, as not to further damage 6, 9 climbed. It took another half an hour until he managed to walk out of the mists, blinking as the grey sunlight suddenly blinded him. He was nearly there, to the top, and was unsure of how much time had passed. He was nearly there…a few more minutes and footsteps should do it…

There was suddenly a slight fracturing noise from above, and his head snapped up. Where the rope was slung over the rock, it was beginning to fray, each fiber straining against his weight and the razor cliff. Gasping, 9 tried to climb up faster, trying to get to the top without dropping 6. He tried to squeeze in a five minute climb to mere seconds. The rope had been holding his weight as he had climbed up the face for an hour and a half. It must have finally given way.

9's efforts were futile as the last strand within the rope snapped and with a cry of fright, he and 6 fell back down into the darkness. His chest constricted as the wind slapped him unmercifully. His head was filled with the whistling…there was another shout…a familiar voice…he was already dead…

A cry slipped out of him as his shoulder collided with the face of the ravine. Quickly reaching out with his free hand, his mind whirling, he caught 6's wrist. 9 brought him up to his side, holding him closely before he lost him once more. Struggling to retain his bearings and fight the darkness that threatened to take away his consciousness, he found that he was still grasping the rope tied around his waist, his body swinging precariously over the darkness of the chasm. Looking up, he saw a familiar face staring down at him in fright, hands clutching the end of the snapped rope.

"7!" 9 cried in relief. 7 smiled a bit, and 9 returned it gratefully. Although unsure if she was still unforgiving of him or not, 9 was nevertheless extremely relived to see her and the loneliness vanished in a flash. 7 tightened her grip on the rope, heaved, and then with the twins' help, the three were able to get 9 up onto solid ground. He lifted 6 to the twins, who took him in their arms gently while 7 assisted 9 getting back onto the rocky ground, grasping his shoulders and pulling him up. Now on solid ground, he sat on his knees, panting heavily, chest heaving. He then sighed, managing to catch his breath and looked up at 7, who was staring at him anxiously, sitting on her knees beside him.

"I'm sorry for what I said…"

"I shouldn't have left…"

"You were right, I should've listened…"

"You were right, I was stupid…"

Both the male and female ragdoll tried to apologize to one another at the same time. They blinked, realizing their mistake. 7 gave a small cough while 9 rubbed his left arm shyly, sitting upright now.

"You can go first." 7 said quietly, her expression unreadable. 9 bit his lower lip and sighed sadly.

"I'm so sorry I left you three. I just didn't want to cause them anymore harm. I…I shouldn't have gone. I didn't know what the right thing was to do." 9 apologized, bending his head, where his chin was nearly touching his chest. 7 looked up and scooted closer to him, putting a reassuring hand on his back.

"I know what I said hurt you…I really didn't mean it. We need you, then and now. All three of us. I'm so sorry." 7 said, looking up at him as he raised his head. They gazed at one another, eyes meeting for a breadth of a second before 7 reached forward, her arms raised, going to hug the male in an embrace and 9 copied her. It was a moment before they both gave small, false coughs and withdrew from one another. 7 gave him a pat on his shoulder, saying, "Well, welcome back, I guess."

"Come on, I've got shelter for us. I…I got them." He said, taking 7's elbow and helping her to stand, the twins following them. Their eyes flickered from the savior's to the warrior's faces, wondering if they were still unforgiving of each other and if they were going to fight again.

"All of them?" 7 breathed in astonishment, and he nodded once solemnly. She blinked once in surprise as he bent down before the twins and scooped 6 into his arms, cradling the dead artist to his chest. And so, he led the three others to the shelter, leaving the forever mists behind them.