A/N: I am so, so sorry about how much I've let this lag. Well, on the plus side, I'm here with my longest chapter yet, though I fear it's gone the same way as Charisma. However, I loved getting to write some 2/5, since it was requested, it's my OTP, too, and it needs more fanfic. I'm a little nervous about the writing here, though, so even though reviews in general make me happy, I'd love some honest constructive criticism. Well, at least it's cute and fluffy, and I get to let my inner fangirl out.
G is for Gravity
It was really, really enjoyable to watch Two's hands move as he worked. They were so different from Five's own, and Two often voiced his envy, saying that since he had been created earlier, before their maker had gotten better at crafting them, Five's were much more well-made. Five, personally, didn't believe that. He always told him that even if Two's hands weren't built as well, Two was much better at using them than Five. They were oddly graceful, pointing out passages in a book, tracing the outline of a design, or tightening the screws on their latest project. It seemed as though lately, no matter what Five did, his hands always felt awkward and clumsy, especially when working around Two. He was constantly dropping things, fumbling with knots, and twitching nervously. He was just incredibly grateful that Two was endlessly forgiving of his apprentice, unlike Seven, who would have lost patience with him long ago.
It was for this reason that Five was the one watching as Two made the final batch of stitches to a sort of shoulder pack they had been working on. Five had, at any rate, made the plans for it, with encouragement. Two pulled the needle through for the final time, snapping the thread.
"There," he said, holding it up so that Five could see. "Finished. Here you go." He handed it to Five, who immediately handed it back to him.
"I didn't do anything. You should have it."
"You designed it, didn't you?" Two asked.
"You helped me," Five protested, "and you did most of the manual work. It should be yours."
"Fine," said Two, smiling. "If it's mine, then it's mine to give away. Take it." Again, he pressed it on Five. When he opened his mouth to refuse, Two said, "It's a gift."
Five accepted it, saying, "Thanks..."
Two beamed. "Good." His face changed, and he leaned in. "Five? Are you alright? You've been acting so odd lately."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I replied. It wasn't completely true; I had been acting and feeling strange lately, but I had no clue why, and I figured it would pass soon enough. "So, what do you want to work on next?"
He shrugged. "I'm not sure. There's nothing really that we need at this point... All I can think of is self-modification, and I know how you don't want to do that." Five nodded. Two had remarked a few times about how bad his eyesight was getting, and wondered if there was anything they could do about it. Five, of course, was extremely averse to the idea. He had already lost one eye, and he didn't want his friend to lose both because of some stupid wiring mistake. "We can just take a break at this point, I suppose," Two continued, snapping Five out of his chain of thoughts.
He nodded, then said, "I'm going to go up to the watchtower a bit, if that's alright."
"Of course, of course," replied Two, absently.
He gave a little wave as Five stepped out of their room and to the elevator.
It was something that he sometimes thought only he liked. Simply having time to sit and think. He could just let his mind wander, as he stood on the watchtower. As it happened, his mind began to drift back to working with Two.
He tried again to figure out what had been happening to him lately. It was so frustrating. He knew that it hadn't always been happening, and it felt lately as though the more he learned the more useless he became. He gave his fingers an experimental flex, and when that went without incident, began fiddling with the telescope. He was fine.
Five sighed, putting it back down. So, apparently, he was normal when he wasn't trying to work on anything. Thinking back on it, it wasn't just the hands- there was a certain odd, tight feeling within him. He almost considered trying to avoid Two for a while, see if it went away, but he knew that doing that without even explaining anything to his friend would be cruel. Besides, he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to do that even if he did explain the situation. It was like gravity; they seemed to be drawn to each other.
Five began to pace around the platform, thinking. He wanted to talk to someone about it- but Seven was awful with this type of thing, Six was the absolute worst person to go to for answers, the Twins could only repeat what they had recorded, and disliked requests as vague as clumsy hands and a sort of constricted feeling in my circuits." This was exactly the type of thing that Five would have normally discussed with Two, but doing so in this case would feel strangely awkward. After struggling over the issue for a little longer, Five resolved that he would wait. If he continued, he'd bring it up. If it went away, everything would be fine and he wouldn't look like an idiot. Again.
Night had fallen, and Five had spent the rest of his evening in the Twins' room, reading. It was obvious to anyone who spent even a small amount of time with them why they loved their books so much- the volumes were large and heavy for the stitchpunks, but they were so fascinating. Every time Five began reading, he felt as though he would be unable to leave for hours. He hated how long it took to finish a single one, though- in all the time he spent there, he didn't finish one.
Five blinked as he slowly made his way towards his room. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the light, and he stumbled over the loose nail that he should really be used to stepping over by now. By the time he was in, his vision had returned to normal. He walked over to his skate-bed, and picked up the shoulder pack lying on top of it. He was just about to hang it up on the hook above his bed when he heard footsteps. Looking up, he saw Two. Instantly, the strange, fluttery tightness returned, and he dropped the pack back on the bed.
"Hey, Five," he said, cheerfully.
"Hi," Five replied, smiling weakly.
"Have you been upstairs all this time?"
"Oh, no, I've been with Three and Four. Reading."
"Ah, yes," Two murmured.
Five sat down on the bed, pushing the pack to the side. Wait, he told himself. Wait until the morning. Then, he would ask about it. No sooner than that.
He looked up to a flare of light and the sound of a match being struck. Two was lighting one of the many candles that were scattered around the room. They not to use them too much, as they weren't sure when they were going to find any more, but Two had been needing them more often recently, because of his eyes.
"What is it?" Five asked.
"Oh, nothing, it's nothing," he replied. "I just wanted to check something." He was riffling through the papers littering the desk, but straightened up to look at Five. "Are you sure you're okay? You've been acting so odd lately."
"I..." Five paused. Finally, he decided that he didn't care about some stupid self-promise, he wanted this sorted out now. "First, I just want to apologize... I know that I haven't been any help at all, and I don't want you to think I'm stupid for it." The words came out in a rush.
"I don't think you're stupid," said Two, quietly, and he walked over to where Five was sitting. "And you don't need to apologize, I don't mind. You haven't been useless. Look, what's wrong?"
"I don't know... I can't remember when it began... My hands have just been so stiff and shaky lately."
Two grabbed one of Five's hands- he felt something in his gears flip over- and began examining it. "Do you think it's an internal problem? Does it happen all the time?"
Five politely dislodged his hand from Two's, giving a small, nervous laugh. "Well, the thing is... It actually only seems to happen... Around you."
Two cocked his head slightly to one side. "Around me?"
Five nodded, tugging at one of his fingers. A nervous habit.
"Five," Two said, sitting down next to him, "do you remember that book... The one about the human woman? The one about love?"
Five whipped his head up. "You think- you think that's what this is?" He stared at the other, who was biting his lip slightly.
Love was something that he had read about before. It was, as far as he could tell, something that drew two people together- sort of like gravity. Reviewing everything he'd learned about it- which wasn't much- he tried to parallel it to himself and Two. They were always together, yes, and despite everything that had happened lately, Five knew that life without him wouldn't just be unbearable, it was unimaginable. He knew that it went beyond that, though- something deeper, much deeper. Even deeper than the bond between Three and Four, something with a new, unknown element. Something much more alien to the stitchpunks. Something that started like this.
"You tell me."
Five hesitated gazing at Two's hands. His own were still trembling slightly. Finally, summoning up every dormant shred of courage in him, he grabbed the other's, and whispered, "Yes."
They didn't discuss it too much after that. It felt much more natural to simply do, or more accurately, be. There was at least once, though, when Two, arms tightly entwined in Five's, said that being together sometimes felt like flying.
Five, whose hands had stopped shaking long ago, had replied, "No, love is a kind of gravity. It pulls me to you."
Two could only chuckle, pulling Five closer.
