The second chapter came sooner than expected. We finally get to know the beast's name. Phew.
I intended the chapter to be focused on 1 and 9 only, but threw in a scene at the library to make things more interesting. I managed to make this chapter longer than first. I'm sorry the first chapter was kind of ham-fisted. Hoping this second chapter will make up for it.
Well, here's to chapter two. ^_^
The rain poured down upon the still-standing roof of the ramshackle establishment. 9 watched the rain from the open doorway of the building he and 1 took shelter in. As soon as the rain started, he knew they wouldn't be leaving any time soon. They had hidden here to escape the beast, which 1 had spitefully called the "Ravager," with that idea of leaving and going back to the library. Now with the cover of night, and the rainstorm descending upon the earth, they would have to wait things out.
1 approached him, a look 9 couldn't describe. He look neither disgusted nor irritated, but his expression was pained. It wasn't like 9 planned on getting into it with a beast, and he didn't expect to have 1 show up and injure the beast long enough to get away. His plan was to go out into the Emptiness and, perhaps, keep going. It's not like there wasn't anything keeping him from leaving.
A bright bolt of lightning knifed through the dreary sky and silvered the world. The clap of thunder boomed soon after.
"Well," rasped 1, "we're stuck here."
9 glimpsed over his shoulder.
"I can see that," he said, looking away. He fiddled with the bulb on his staff, twisting it till it hit the battery and the light illuminated the ink-black room. He leaned it against the wall.
"I didn't come all the way out here to get pummeled by a beast," groused 1, walking over toward a dusty scarlet-colored cushion. Next to that one was an equally dusty cushion the color of slate.
"I know, I know," piped 9.
The rain couldn't reach the two stitchpunks in the part where they chose as shelter. The hole on the roof was big enough to drench the building, only he and 1 had hung a faded orange curtain over the cushions; one side was tacked up with a nail, the other side was draped over on the table, held in place with a paperweight. 9 picked up his penknife and took a seat on the cushion, his back to 1. He ran his hand across the blade, the light thrown back in its surface. He didn't know whether 1 was glowering down at him, but he wouldn't blame him. It was something he'd expected 1 to do. Putting that aside he glanced up at what was left of the ceiling, letting his thoughts flow.
Out of curiosity, 9 looked over and saw 1 with the handmade crossbow. He had unearthed a long grey nail, and he appeared to be testing it out. 1's crossbow looked similar to 5's, only the main difference was the supplies used, and the way he used it. 1 had to pull back the string while all 5 had to do was click the trigger to send the projectile flying. 9 watched the elder point the nail at a spot far off from their spot and sent it flying into the dark. He heard it ricochet off a surface and clang to the floor. It got lost wherever it went.
"Works fine," said 1, looking down at he crossbow. He gave the string a final tug before going off and trying to find where the nail went.
9 turned around, tapping the blade on the penknife gently. He gaze turned over to the stone-cold floor, his thoughts wandering and he soon forgot he was in the ramshackle building until he reminded himself he was in said building. He set the penknife on the floor, hearing it clank precisely. He hoped he didn't startle 1, or aggravate him. A cold chill drifted in through the doorway, as well as everywhere else that was broken down, allowing for an overall cold to permeated the lonely dwelling.
1's footsteps resonated in the dark, making their way to 9's hearing receptors. 9 flicked slightly when he thought his presence was behind him. Nothing he'd do would make this moment better.
"So," said 1, "since we're here for the night, I thought we'd get some things cleared out." He sat on the scarlet cushion, putting the crossbow down on the floor next to his feet. "What were you doing out in the Emptiness?"
9 blinked.
"You wouldn't understand," replied 9, not turning to look at him.
"Oh?," quipped 1, turning around. "Why wouldn't I understand?"
9 didn't respond.
"We have all night to talk," retorted 1, "I'm willing to stay up all night and forgo sleep to hear exactly why you went out and almost got yourself killed."
9 let out a sigh. He couldn't tell if 1 was exaggerating or not, but he found no other way to ignore the question.
"I..."
1 turned all the way around, pupils blinking.
"I don't want to talk about it," said 9, head hanging. He brought his knees up to his chin, touching a hand to his head, if it would mitigate his conflicting thoughts.
"Fine," said 1, twisting back around, "don't tell me, but I'm not going to stop asking about it."
9 winced. He should've just made up a shoddy excuse to explain him being here.
The droning of the ran pitter pattered upon the dilapidated building. The raindrops hit against the curtain that protected their dry space. Those drops would be soaked up by the old fabric, but it nonetheless worked, proving it was not useless. The silence between him and 1 stretched on, that 9 thought he was alone until he remembered about the elder stitchpunk accompanying him.
"That beast," spoke 1 abruptly.
"Huh?," uttered 9. He turned around, thinking it be appropriate to face him if this was to be a casual conversation.
"The beast," repeated 1, "that...Ravager. Never seen anything like it."
"Me neither," said 9, restraint but rapt into the conversation.
"Those claws of his," drawled 1, "they would've sliced you up to ribbons if I hadn't stepped in."
9's pupils protruded, turning away. "Right..."
1 sensed the tension in him. "I apologize for that...remark," he quipped, "but you should consider yourself lucky. You might have ended up dead if I didn't show up. You might not have ran into that beast if you hadn't—"
"Alright!," hollered 9, fist hitting the cushion in frustration. "Alright. I get it, I shouldn't have gone out alone."
"No," retorted 1, "I'm not saying you shouldn't have gone out; you can, you just should've done a better job of being more...concealed."
9 fought back the urge to shout and just dropped it.
"I'll remember that," he said, head turning away. He folded his arms under his chest.
"Just be more careful next time," quoth 1.
"There might not be a next time," rasped 9 under his breath.
"What?"
"Nothing." 9 turned away.
1 was still confused, but he nonetheless was set on finding out the root of 9's reason for going out unexpectedly.
The glow from 9's lightstaff dispersed the dusk. He looked over at the rest of the building, seeing broken bricks in mountainous heaps. Cracks in the walls took up most of the surrounding area, including some kind of mold, and the smell of damp permeated every space.
Did 1 want to know why he was here? Did he want to tell him? 1 was already set on finding out why, and delaying it would only make it worse. Maybe if 9 wore him out enough he would forget the topic altogether. He could only wait.
If only that could work.
5 peered through the newly-made telescope, then lowered it, watching the raindrops quench the earth. He had decided to stay up a little longer just in case 1 and 9 made it home. Worrying over it didn't help, but it was all he could do. Until tomorrow, waiting was the only option.
He made his way toward the ladder nailed to the windowsill, which was converted into their new watchtower. When his feet touched the floor, 5 strode down the corridor, passing the tall bookcases. He reached the railing that was used for their new elevator bucket, and stepped inside. He pulled the rope and made the way down. When the bucket reached the floor, he gingerly stepped out, looking around the dreary library. He strolled through the corridors made up by the piles of books, listening to the thunder, and the raindrops entered through the hole in the ceiling.
5 reached the other end of the hall, just passing the broken globe the twins spent most of their time in. 3 and 4 must've gone to bed by now; it was late enough. The one-eyed stitchpunk reached the spot he was looking for. His and 2's room was made up of a table slanted over a small bookcase with a dark brown curtain draped over it. He pushed the curtain aside, peering in.
"2?," he whispered.
Across the room, in the far left corner, 2, in bed, looked over his shoulder, turning all the way around to face 5.
"I was wondering when you'd come to bed," he said.
"Sorry," uttered 5, walking toward him, "I was up in the watchtower." He got under the covers, settling into bed more closely.
"Did you see anything?," asked 2, wrapping an arm around 5's middle.
"No," answered 5, "I didn't see anything, or anyone."
"Hmm."
2 rested his head against 5's chest.
"I'm worried," said 5.
"So am I," retorted 2.
"I'm worried about 9."
At this, 2 looked up at him.
"Why is that?," he asked, perching his elbow on the pillow next to 5's.
"I get the feeling," said 5, "that he's hiding something." He turned over to his left side so, that he was facing 2. "I don't know what it is, but I've been hoping he'd talk to me about it." He glanced down at his hand, his thumb rubbing at the handmade pillow.
"What have you tried?," queried 2.
"I usually start with a simple conversation," explained 5, "it usually goes okay until I try to delve deeper, he just ends the conversation and leaves. I try to bring it up again, but he always dodges it."
"I see," said 2.
"I'm hoping why he went out there. I wish he'd tell me instead of running from his problems."
2 stroked 5's cheek, a smile appearing on 5's face.
"Well," said 2, "when he comes home, you can try again. He's bound to let it all out when he's got nowhere else to hide."
"Well, there's no argument there," said 5.
A thunderclap was heard overhead, making 5 flinch. He looked up, pupil wide. He trembled.
"It's alright," crooned 2, wrapping his arm around the one-eyed stitchpunk. "It's just thunder. Nothing to be scared of."
"I know," muttered 5.
5 snuggled closer to the inventor, burying his face into his chest.
"I hope they're alright," said 5.
"So do I," retorted 2.
The thunder rumbled on while the rain bucketed down. The howling wind filled the sky, releasing all its wrath.
Soon 5 closed his optics, letting 2 stroke his head while the rain fell on the library roof, and the thunder rumbled in the night.
9 twisted his bulb, extinguishing the light.
"We should try to get some sleep," he said, "I don't want to run into that beast when we go back home."
"Likewise," muttered 1. He unfastened the platinum brooch and took off his cape. He dropped it on the part of the floor that was driest.
9 sat, his thoughts accumulating like the storm that was raging outside. He stood up.
1 watched him walk past him.
"Where are you going?," he asked.
"I just need to check something," replied 9.
1 didn't say anything and just watched him walk away. 9 sauntered toward the open doorway. He stood underneath, shivering. A cold wind wafted in, getting splashed with a few raindrops. A silver lightning bolt lit up the sky; the thunder rumbled. The slate-gray clouds blustered here and there, throwing its anger out on the silent earth. That's how 9 felt, like a storm but unable to do anything. He felt trapped. He was told to be honest, and yet, he felt like he couldn't be honest with others much less himself.
He glanced down at the ground, watching it soak up the rain, getting muddy in the process. The cold seeped into his fabric, and seeing how he didn't find what he was looking for, he wandered back inside. He rubbed his shivering arms and reached the hiding spot. He pushed the curtain aside and entered the space. He spotted 1 still awake, to his surprise. He sat, back to him, solemnly silent. 9 strode over to the cushion next to 1's and plopped down, shuddering in spite of himself.
If he could stay awake a little longer, he might be able to beat the dread from swallowing him whole. He didn't want to succumb to the haunting nightmares. Whenever he tried to sleep, he could only find himself in the unspeakable darkness and he was afraid that if he fell asleep he might never wake up. Staying awake was better.
"Did you see anything worth seeing?," rasped 1, turning his head to look at him.
9 almost forgot he was there.
"No," he replied, looking down at the floor.
"Checking to see if that beast was out there?," offered 1.
"...yeah," said 9 automatically. "Yes I was."
"Wherever the Ravager is" spoke 1, "he won't be able to find us in the rain."
What if it can?
"Yeah, you're right." 9 tried to agree if it would ease his turbulence.
A moment passed in silence.
"Well," said 1, turning around, "I'm going to try and sleep...unless, you have something to talk about."
"No," piped 9, "no. Nothing. There's nothing to talk about."
1's slanted optics glanced at him quizzically while also showing an ounce of concern.
"9?," quipped 1.
"Just pretend we never met," uttered 9.
"What?"
9 turned all the way around, pupils wide as saucers.
"That," he stammered, "that wasn't... I didn't mean...I thought it, not..." His hands gripped the cushion. "Forget I said it."
Now with real concern, 1 stood up and walked over to him. He kneeled beside him, only it seemed like 9 was afraid to have him this close.
"Why?," said 1. "Why would you say something like that?"
"I," began 9, "I don't know." He glimpsed away for a moment, but he wound up avoid looking 1 in the optics. "I just.. I don't know what's wrong with me. Lately, I haven't been feeling like myself. It's been happening since you all came back. I don't know why, maybe I'm still guilty over starting all of this."
1 kept a neutral expression as he listened.
"9," he said, "we've all forgiven you and forgotten your transgressions."
"But it doesn't feel like enough," snapped 9, rubbing his arms. He turned around, unable to look at him.
"9, why did you come here?"
Silence.
"I," spoke 9, "I came out here in the hopes of leaving."
"Leaving?"
9 gripped the fabric in his arms so tight that he was going to tear it.
"Leaving the sanctuary," said 9, "leaving the Emptiness, or maybe I was trying to escape from myself. It just...when the nightmares started, I thought they'd go away, but they started getting worse, and I don't know the cause or why they started." He grabbed at his head, hanging it in despair. "I...I just don't know."
The words hit him like bullets. He knew something was bothering him, but he didn't know to what extend. He expected this kind of problem from 6, but not from 9. 1 was so used to seeing 9 going about, living his life without a care in the world. He would've thought the war with the B.R.A.I.N. was far behind him, but it seemed like traces of it still had a hold on him.
"You can't run away from your problems, 9," said 1, he placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know this might not be what you want to hear, but talking about it will help. You've already talked about it, isn't that proof enough?"
9 seemed to want to speak, but found it more appropriate to stay quiet.
"Take it from me," said 1, "I hid from my problems until they erupted. It all caught up to me when the Winged Beast attacked us, when the cathedral was set on fire...when my hand got damaged." He looked down at his left hand, the one that got injured in the explosion.
There was a sigh from 9, which 1 accepted as an answer.
"While we're on the subject," continued 1, craning his neck to see 9's face, "I don't think leaving will solve anything because it doesn't. And I don't want you to leave..." He sucked in a breath. "At least...I don't want you to leave me."
At that second, 9 spun around, pupils widening.
"W-What?," sputtered 9.
1's arms snaked around the zippered stitchpunk's waist, bringing his face closer to 9's. Their lips met, and from there they were lost. Sparks flew between them, not caring about the storm, the beast, or anything.
"Make me forget," whispered 9 huskily, flinging his arms around 1's neck. "I want to forget."
1 then kissed 9's neck, pressing his body against his. His sharp-fingered hand grabbed ahold of 9's zipper, pulling it down. It made 9 shiver, but he didn't care, he wanted anything to forget his nightmares and sorrows. He felt even more enticed when 1 began undoing his buckles.
The storm could rage on, but it wasn't going to stop him from having his moment.
Ooh, things between 9 and 1 are getting rather...intimate. Goodness! *fans myself with hand* *giggles*
But really, I was looking forward to writing this part. I can't wait to see what happens with them in the next chapter. *snickers*
Let's hope the Ravager is dealt with in chapter three. Stay tuned. ;)
