Well, hey guys. Here's chapter eight. ^_^ I can't articulate how hard I worked on this chapter, but you all have a good idea, though. I spent the entire weekend on this chapter, and man, am I relieved it's done. :)
We're not at the end, there's still one more chapter to post. I had planned to have this be the last chapter, and I wanted to get this story finished before the end of the month. But hey, what's one more chapter, and on the next month? Time just got away from me. *shrugs*
Well, enjoy the eighth chapter cause the ninth chapter will be on its way. ^_^
2 walked over to the courtyard garden, observing the grass blades curiously. His cane tapped against the concrete ground, which was overshadowed by the footsteps of the twins sauntering behind him.
4's head popped up by his left.
'Look how tall they're getting,' she commented, motioning toward the sprigs of green.
The inventor gazed at the green grass blades, smiling contently.
"Yes, I see them," he said.
'When do you think the trees will get leaves?,' queried 3, standing to his right, optics turning form him to the grass patches.
2's optics turned from the grass to the bare trees. A nagging sensations tugged at his chords that he wished he could see between now and then, but the fact that he couldn't made the anticipation worth anticipating.
"I'm not sure, 3," he replied, he snapped his head to him, "but with time and some more rain, these trees will regain their leaves"—he splayed his arms, referring to the whole of the courtyard—"and this whole garden will regain its greenery, and it will look just how it was before the war destroyed it."
'Really?,' flickered 4.
"Really," said 2, looking at her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
2 heard another set of footsteps resonated from behind. The elderly inventor turned around with the use of his cane. He spotted 6 sidled past him and the twins, mismatched optics gazing from the ground to the skies.
"6," said 2, smiling, "how are you?"
The striped stitchpunk turned his head, bicolored optics blinking.
"I'm," he uttered, grabbing at his black key out of reflex, "f-f-fine."
3 and 4 scampered toward the black-and-white striped artist, making him feel that much more overwhelmed.
'You should draw the grass,' said 4 through optic flickers, pointing at the patches of green.
6 craned his neck, pupils blinking. He clutched his key tighter.
"P-Pretty," he said, optics locked on the grass blades.
2's smile grew wider.
3 turned around, gazing at the black iron gate. He watched a scrap of paper fly past the gate, knowing it was work of the wind.
"Hey," said a voice.
3 turned around, looking up to see 8 striding up to them, knife in hand. The tall guard slid the knife onto his back where his magnet was.
'Hi, 8,' greeted 3.
"Hey," drawled 8.
"Any sign of them?," queried 2.
"Already checked the telescope," replied 8, "no sign of 'em."
'Or what about beasts?,' queried 4, holding up a finger.
"No," answered 8, shrugging.
'That's too bad,' uttered 3, 'I could've gotten my spear out and I could've taken it down.'
"Hey, hey," said 8, raising a brow, "you're good, but that doesn't mean you can go out and kill any beast that comes yer way."
'I know,' clarified 3, 'but still, all three of us killed those Cat Beasts.'
"Well that's true," ventured 8.
2 sauntered past them, looking at the twins.
"You two were great fighters from where I was looking," he commented.
'Thank you, 2,' said 4, putting her hands behind her back, smiling shyly.
6 walked over toward the other side of the courtyard, head turning from one direction to the other, trying to locate the unseen threat. He looked afraid, as if the courtyard itself would disappear. He was only dully aware of the serenity of the day. How quiet it felt, how the sun beamed down on him, enjoying the warmth on his striped fabric.
"6?," called 2.
The striped stitchpunk snapped his head at him, gasping lowly. His hands grabbed at his key, he blinked his optics.
"You alright?," asked 8, lifting a stitched brow.
The hooded twins stood in either side of 8, showing worried looks.
"Nggnn," muttered 6, pupils darting from the onlooking stitchpunks to the ground. "I just... I'm j-just...worried."
"About what?," uttered 8.
"9," said 6, clutching his key tighter.
"I know, 6," said 2, ambling up to him, "we all are."
"Haven't been...a-able to," reiterated 6, looking at the ground, "r-read my...visions."
2 kept his smile while also looking concerned.
"What do you mean?," he inquired, placing a hand on 6's shoulder. 6 flinched, but 2 maintained a gentle but firm grip.
"I-I," began 6 nervously, "I—I haven't b-been...able t-to...d-d-decipher m-my visions. I don't know why."
3 and 4 looked at each other worriedly, then glanced up at 8. The guard looked at each twins, shrugging confusedly.
"But," said 6, "I-I know...t-that 9 was in danger. I c-couldn't tell which...p-part was real...and w-which p-part was...not."
2's smile began to falter, and he was beginning to believe something was wrong. He looked over and saw the twins sauntering up him.
'What do you think?,' asked 3.
It took 2 a moment to form up with an answer.
"Well," he said as a start, "I believe many changes might have taken place when we were brought back. A lot of things happened to us that we aren't able to figure out. Some can't really be explained at all."
4 glanced over at her brother, then at 2, brow furrowing. She then glimpsed over at 6, who didn't have much to say, choosing to wait for the day to carry on.
"But," uttered 2, turning to look at 6, "I believe with time you should be able to figure out what your visions mean. You might not even be plagued by them for a long time." He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he was willing to come up with anything to reassure the striped artist. This was truly something even he couldn't figure out.
3 turned away from 6 and looked on at the black gate. He craned his neck, blinking. He waited, listening for any sounds, which so far was nothing but the wind. He screwed his pupils. 4 glanced up, looking at her brother watching the gate. She tapped him on the shoulder.
'What is it?,' queried 4.
'I don't know,' said 3, 'I just...'
4 looked at the gate, raising a brow.
'I know you're worried about them,' quipped 4.
3 slumped his shoulders. He glanced at her, a concerned look adorning his face.
"Huh?," uttered 6, spinning around, pupils as wide as the moon.
A moment passed and the five spotted four figures coming into view. They recognized 5, 7, and 1. And to their astonishment, 9 was with them.
'They're back!,' cheeped 4. She looked at 2, pointing at the gate.
"Yes, I see them," he said, nodding.
'7!,' chirped 3, running toward the group. His sister followed behind him.
'7!,' flickered 4 through her optics.
"Oh hey there," said 7, lifting her bird skull. 3 was the first to reach 7, and he flung his arms around her in a hug. 4 was next, and she joined the hug. The pale stitchpunk smiled, and encircled her arms around each of them. "I missed you two."
'We missed you,' proclaimed 4, looking up at her. 'Hi, 5,' she flickered, looking at 5.
"Hello, 4," said 5, smiling. Looking next to her, he added, "Hi, 3."
'Hi,' uttered 3.
'Oh, we killed two Cat Beasts yesterday,' cheeped 4, looking at 7.
"Really?," quipped 7, raising a brow.
'Yeah,' said 3, 'they came lurking around the library at sunset. 4, 8 and I went out with our weapons and killed them.'
"It's true," said 8, walking up to her. 7 kept her smile as she looked at him and the twins, almost like she didn't believe.
"Well," quoth 7, stroking each twins on the head, "I'm proud of you two. You're learning to defend yourselves." She pecked each on the forehead.
'Thanks, 7,' replied the twins in unison.
7 smiled, and she sauntered toward 8, who flung her in his arms.
"Did you miss me?," she said playfully.
"Very much," replied 8.
"Aww." 7 pressed her lips against his, her right hand caressing his cheek.
3 and 4 smiled, giggling silently. They sidled over to 9.
'We were so worried about you,' said 4, touching a hand to his shoulder.
"I was worried, too," said 9, "about never seeing you two again."
3 hugged him. 'We're so glad you're here.'
"So am I," uttered 9, patting 3's back.
He felt 1's arms wrap around his waist, 9 looked over, blinking.
"And so am I," crooned 1.
3 and 4 smiled.
'We're just glad you're back, 9,' said 3.
'Same here,' added 4, smiling.
"You wanna hear how we defeated the Skimmer?," queried 9.
'Oh yes,' chirped 3, nodding, 'tell us!'
4 shared his enthusiasm. She clasped 9's hand, indicating that he join them in the library.
"We might as well tell them," ventured 1, shrugging.
"Right," said 9.
9 followed the twins, as well as the the rest to the library, eager to hear their exploits.
2 strode up toward 1's room, standing by the doorway.
"1?," he said softly. "Are you still awake?"
He heard the pitter patter of feet approaching the doorway. The curtain was pulled back, 1 looked at him inquisitively.
"I came to see if you were alright," said 2.
"I'm fine," said 1.
"And how is 9?," he added.
1 glimpsed over his shoulder, cocking his head, suggesting that he look inside the room. 2 stepped inside, optics landing on the bed across from him. 9 laid asleep on the bed, the satiny cover up to his chin.
"He finally fell asleep," said 1.
"Well," uttered 2, "it's no wonder; he's had a long day."
1 looked over at him, seeing how he obviously came for something other than to check on 9. He led 2 out in the hall, dropping the curtain.
"What is it that you came here for?," queried 1, trying not to sound vexed. His veiled impatience showed that he wanted to get some sleep soon.
"Do you remember what 6 told you?," asked 2.
1's pupils widened slightly.
"Yes," he replied, "I do. And it's been bothering me the whole day, and when I tried to talk to him, he just ran out of the room."
2 nodded. "I understand his skittishness." He stole a glance at the curtain, then back at 1. "You can talk to 6 tomorrow, if he's up to it."
"I just hope he doesn't try to run away," quipped 1, folding his arms under his chest.
2's optics glanced at the floor before looking up at 1.
"So you gave yourself away as bait," he piped, fingers gripping his cane.
1's confidence began to falter, and he couldn't find any defense to deny it.
"Well, it's what happened," he said. "I would've let it tear me limb from limb."
"Hmm." 2 was careful to keep his voice soft, and keep his composure intact. "You know that it's going to take a lot of time for 9 to let go of his guilt."
"So I've been told," retorted 1, unintentionally rude.
"I know you're tired of hearing the same song," assured 2, "but it'll all align little by little. Soon, 9 will find a peace of mind."
1 listened, but kept his arms crossed. He couldn't let one slip betray his dignified pose. But he couldn't help himself. He hid behind a wall to keep his fear locked away, and 9 hid behind a carefully practiced smile. All so no one would see beneath the surface, and once they did, they would either be repelled or they would venture through.
"You'll find a way," said 2, patting him on the arm, "you both will."
1 didn't answer, but nodded to let him know he was listening. He turned toward the curtain, holding out a hand. He gripped the fabric.
"Goodnight," said the inventor.
1 stood, gripping the curtain. He heard his footsteps and his cane making a staccato racket upon the marble floor. He needed one final release before he left.
"2," he said, snapping his head at the inventor.
"Yes?," remarked 2.
"..." 1 couldn't let the words escape him. "Thank you."
2's smile grew wider. "Anytime, 1." He turned away, continuing with his walk.
With that, 1 opened the curtain and looked on at the room hiding behind it. He traipsed toward the bed, gazing at 9. He settled into bed beside him. Looking at the ceiling, he breathed out a long, wistful sigh. 1 felt 9 turn in bed, then heard him speak. He glimpsed over at him, 9's worried look seemed out of place.
"Are you alright?," said 9. He seemed pensive, or perhaps still half-asleep.
"I'm alright," said 1. He looked up at the ceiling.
"Are you?," pressed 9.
A second passed in silence.
"No," admitted 1, still looking at the ceiling. "I'm not." He drew in a breath. "I'm not alright. I'm scared, confused, humiliated, lost, helpless."
9 scooted closer, wrapping an arm around him.
"That's good," he said, "that you're saying it, not hiding it," he added when he saw 1's confused look.
"And you?," reiterated 1.
"I've got a lot to work through," replied 9. "But I know that bottling it in isn't the way to go. I know I've been told that time and again, but I didn't really listen. It's taken me until now to really break out."
1's gaze turned from the ceiling to 9.
"We're both in need of help," said 1. He encircled his arms around the zippered stitchpunk. "And I wouldn't want anyone to guide me than you."
9 smiled.
1 planted a kiss on 9's lips. Sparks ignited in both of them. 9 gripped 1's arm, the overriding heat drowning him.
"Want me to make you forget?," said 1 seductively, stroking 9's cheek.
"Yes, but not too much," hooted 9.
Their lips met, and after, the world around them dissolved.
When they returned to the library, things began to evolve. Questions needed to be answered, which were given at their right time. Then came the moment to celebrate their success. It was a humble victory for them; it wasn't as over the top as the B.R.A.I.N.'s defeat, but it was still something worth boasting about. 9 was freed, the Skimmer was vanquished, and they were together. It did occur to them that some sort of celebration had to take hold, and after much consideration, after all the turmoil, the twins suggested having a costume party.
The celebration would take hold in a few days, giving the stitchpunks time to come up with ideas for costumes.
8 informed 7 on what went on while she and 5 and 1 were off on their mission that he took down two Cat Beasts. Mentioned that 3 and 4 helped him kill each. The twins proved to be quite skillful with their blades. 7 was proud of them; they were growing up. 3 and 4 themselves were also proud to be able to defend themselves and their family.
After what 6 told him, 1 consulted him on what he meant by 9 not being able to "make it." It occurred to him that he detected something deeper behind his warning. The striped stitchpunk admitted that he was worried 9 would try to hurt himself to free himself from his inner conflict. 6 didn't know how to confront the zippered stitchpunk about his nightmares, and he himself had been having trouble reading his visions and what they meant. It seemed like after they were brought back by the rain 6's precognition was warped and it became hard to differentiate what was real and what was false. 2 suggested that over time he would be able to decipher what his visions mean, realigning with his sense of self. He also decided that 9's nightmares were also a result of his self-guilt tormenting him. It was something that was obvious at first glance, but reminding them was not something to make light of.
9, after return thing home, he was bent on facing his demons. He was determined to go in the right path, and after what he went through, he was beginning to believe he was truly meant to see the world start anew. He'd been so caught up in his self-pity that he was unable to face himself. His relationship with 1 improved immensely. Without the guilt eating away at him he was finally able to go off living his life and confront his nightmares. He came to understand that it was alright to not be alright. 9 had believed he had to bottle up his worries when that only made the situation worse.
While 1 was still stubborn, he was slowly coming to accept new concepts. Although he still clung to certain ideas, he only meant well by them. As his viewpoint changed, he was proud to say he was happy to start his new future with 9 at his side.
"Still up?," said 1, standing under the library entrance.
"I'll come in in a second," said 9, looking over his shoulder.
"Actually, I was thinking of joining you," replied 1, sauntering up to him.
"Oh," piped 9, "I'd like some company." He looked up at the twilit sky. "It's so beautiful tonight."
1 took a seat next to him. 9 scooted closer to him, resting his head on his shoulder. He gazed at the sky. "It's not as beautiful as you," said 1, flinging his arm around him.
9 smiled shyly. He sat on 1's lap, surprising him.
The sky glimmered with giant hues of deep reds, oranges, and pink with hints of blue. A light tone of gold steaks were layered subtly. The first few stars dotted the twilight, enhancing the look of the fading sun sinking into the horizon, the colors turning from vibrant and bold to light and pastel. The moon hung over the Emptiness; the feeling of the sunset, the haunting atmosphere of the dreary town, it was so beautiful and hard to put into words.
"Tomorrow is the costume party," quipped 9.
"Yes," said 1, kissing his head.
"What's your costume going to be?," asked 9, gazing up at him.
1 chuckled. "That's a secret," he quoth.
"Ah really?" 9 raised a brow. "Don't I at least get a hint?"
The elder stitchpunk smiled smugly. 9 shrugged but kept his smile. He then drew his legs in and lied down, resting his head on 1's lap. 1 stroked 9's back.
"The nightmare's are finally gone?," spoke 1, his hand drifting up to the zippered stitchpunk's head, leaving it there.
"Yeah," replied 9, "I haven't had one in a week.
"Well," said 1, "that's good news."
9 gazed up at the fading sun. The sun cast shadows upon the ground. The light glimmered, as though it were powered in glitter. 9's gaze locked on the sprays of grass. He gazed up at the bare trees, admiring how the light cut through the branches. He wondered what it would look like with leaves shading the garden. He wondered how long it would be until then. Either way, he was eager to wait for the trees to regain their leaves.
"You know," uttered 1, "I always thought you saved me from the Machine."
"I did," said 9, sitting up. He was about to continue speaking when he was engulfed in another kiss. He raised his brows, optics closing. He flung his arms around him. The sparks ignited in him, and he hoped he wasn't dreaming.
1 broke the kiss, gazing at 9 lovingly.
"We saved each other," he crooned, wrapping his arms around 9's neck.
9 forced a coy smile.
"Mon trésor," whispered 1.
"Trésor," repeated 9, brows scrunched together.
"It means 'treasure,'" said 1. "I read it in a book a long time ago."
"Hmm."
"And it is true," continued 1, "you are my treasure." He kissed 9 on the cheek, making the zippered stitchpunk giggle.
9 briefly glimpsed at the sky, optics widening.
"1, look," he cheeped, pointing.
1 glanced up, slanted pupils widening in awe. He looked at where 9 pointed, and to his amazement, he saw a white streak knifing across the star-speckled sky, outshining all the other stars in comparison.
"What is that?," asked 9, keeping his optics locked on the white streak.
"It's a comet," responded 1.
9 watched the comet fly through the evening sky, disappearing into the descending sunset.
"It's so beautiful," uttered 9, watching in hushed excitement.
1 gingerly took 9's hand in his own, prompting the other to look at him.
"I love you," he said, leaning closer.
"I love you, too, 1," crooned 9.
Their lips touched. For that moment it was just them, the garden, the stars, and the skies.
How was that for chapter eight? ^_^ I can't wait to see what happens next. I can't wait to get started.
Don't go away, there's still more to unravel. =D
