One groaned. He had a huge headache. Hands touched him, and his optics focused on a new face.

"W-who're you?" One asked hoarsely.

~Nine.~

"My h-head hurts."

~Stay still. I'll fix it.~

There was an agonizing burst inside of his head, a mad swirl of colors, shapes, images, and sounds. One shrieked. He went limp, trembling. He needed to hug. He reached up blindly and Nine pressed close, sighing in delight. One purred. He eventually began to think over the last ten years.

"It was a dream, right?"

~No. You really were an ass.~

"Why, though?"

~When you hit your head, you accidentally blocked your visions. It caused a massive personality shift. You're all better now.~

"I need to apologize…"

"One!" Two gasped as they hurried up then froze at the sight of the new Stitchpunk.

"Did you fix him?" Six asked, walking forward.

~Yes.~

Six and Nine helped One sit up. He shivered as he was pulled to his feet, hardly able to stand straight. Then he looked at his little Stitchpunks, whose jaws dropped. Two trembled as he approached.

"One?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think I ask too many questions?" Two was shaking, knowing the answer would be yes as it had been for ten long years.

One frowned. "I told you before that you wouldn't be you without your questions."

Two sobbed and grabbed him. One sat down, his legs weak. He held him as, one by one the others realized that he was back, embracing him. Nine watched sadly then began walking away. One struggled to his feet and ran over as best he could.

"No! You're coming home with us!"

~You'd want me?~

"Yes! Of course! You're one of my little Stitchpunks!"

"Anybody that can fix One like that is great in my book," Five said.

The others agreed wholeheartedly. Six and One watched as they introduced themselves and thanked him profusely. Six nuzzled One.

"I told you he would fix you."

"It took ten years, Six," One said sadly.

"But you're back, and that's all that matters."

"I have a lot to make up for."

"One day at a time."

One nodded then began walking back home, looking over his little Stitchpunks. He knew for a fact that there were no more. This was all he was going to get. His optics roved over them and he nodded to himself. Yeah. This would do.