Fanfiction: 9

To Save Us All

Chapter 5~

9 knew where 7 was. It made sense, they had taken G in because he was injured, so why would'nt G's family take in 7? It made perfect sense. But that meant that 7 was hurt, and they had to get to her fast. They would make thre days walk for them into one day. Or at least two if it was too much.

"Hurry up!" he called to the others who were slowly falling behind, making his voice box sting. 9 did'nt want to be mean when he said it, but he had to make sure 7 was alright, and that meant getting to her as soon as possible.

They had already gone back to take a few things they might need, 9 being extremely reluctant and even sounding like 1 when he scolded the twins for taking their time. Of course he apologized right after seeing the hurt on their faces, but he still hated himself for it. No matter how horrible you were feeling, you had to pretend to be fine for the twins. It was a kind of taboo to the stitchpunks. No one had told them this, but they did'nt need to be told.

The twins seemed to forgive him for his crankiness, but they stayed with G the whole time, basically clinging to him the whole day. 9 did'nt mind really, except for the continued feeling he was drifting farther from the others. From himself.

By now the sun was high in the sky and sending waves of scorching heat into the stitchpunks unfortunate backs. Everyone felt it, the painful stinging the sun was mercilessly bearing down upon them. Every metal object was a potenial stall. If they looked at it at a certain angle, it would blind them for several seconds, causing 9 to become restless and cranky and complain they were wasting time that could be used to save 7.

9 knew where he was headed, and it was'nt the factory. They would have to find some safe way around it.

But why?

It was'nt like the machines were still living there. Was it OK to be heading directly at the factory? If it was dormant, it was the fastest way to 7. 9 weighed these factors in his mind for about an hour before realizing he had kept walking in the same direction anyways.

G and the twins had stayed close behind him, not wanting to get on his bad side. The twins had'nt even known he had a bad side. Until 7 had gone missing...

"9." rang G's voice into the emptiness, making 9 jump slightly at the disturbance in the quiet he had grown used to. "We need to rest. The twins are tired, and I'm sure you are too."

9 turned to se the twins, holding each other up, dragging their feet and obviously exausted. 9 hated himself. he rushed to their sides and lay them down. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I should have payed attention! I swear, I would never-"

The twins smiled weakly and nodded, hugging 9 and falling asleep. 9 was sick with hatred of himself. How could he be so stupid! He had'nt noticed the twins virtually collapsing and G having to hold them up! What had he been thinking?!

He remembered that sentence being the second thing 7 had ever said to him.

Then it hit him. 7. He was acting like this because of 7. He had to make sure she was OK, but that did'nt mean endangering the others. If there was one thing he learned from his life so far, it was to never underestimate anyone. He remembered 6 suddenly with a ping of guilt causing him to clutch his zipper. G sensed his discomfort, but he missunderstood his actions.

"It's OK. They'll be fine, they just need some rest." he said, seeming to know exactly what he was talking about, making 9 relax for once. All the tension on his shoulders seemed to lift, even if for a second, and 9 smiled.

"Yeah." was all he could say. "I guess we should find shelter, though. The factory is only a few minutes away. It's better to be indors."

G nodded, he did'nt exactly know what 9 meant about the factory, but he knew inside would be the best place to take a nap.

The already tired and sore 9 and G had to carry the twins into the nearest building. 9 had'nt cared much about what kind of place it had once been, but after setting the twins down and laying down beside them in a heap, he had this feeling it was important.

He decided to sleep, and forget his worries, his paranoia, his regrets, and his life. All he wanted to think about was how comfortable he was, because he knew he would'nt get another feeling like this.

When 9 woke up, the sun was already setting. He frowned and took a moment to actually see the place they had crawled into. He might as well, they could'nt start moving at night.

The room was'nt huge by any means, even those means being that of a stitchpunk, six feet tall. 9 estimated it was probably big enough to fit one hundred humans if they were packed together and none of this junk was in the way. it may sound like a lot, but where 9 came from - sancutaries and libraries -it seemed rather small.

There were piles of musical instruments, but 9 did'nt know that. All he saw were long brass tubes with silver buttons and flared endings, spilled from what could have been their cases and splattered on the floor with no respect.

9 turned to the others. The twins were sprawled across each other lazily with their mouths open and optics occasionally flashing even in their sleep. 9 held back a chuckle. He walked over to them and rubbed their hoods affectionately and whispering "Sorry, guys."

G stirred. He was very intuitive, was'nt he? 9 raised an eyebrow and waited to see what the stitchpunk would do.

G's optics fluttered and he moaned a little as he got up, rubbing the sleep from his optics. He looked up at 9 and smiled. "Hello." he said cheerily. "Why so tense?"

"Tense? I'm not tense." said 9 a little too quickly for his voice to justify his claim. G chuckled and dismissed the subject, getting up.

"Where did we manage to drag ourselves to?" asked G, a smirk in his voice and his optics running over everything in the room. 9 saw his optics light up before he exclaimed surprised, "It's a music store! I have'nt seen one of these in years!"

G ran off before 9 could ask him what the heck he was talking about. 9 stayed near the twins, watching as G came to the mangled instruments, frowning.

"Who would do something like this?" whispered G weakly as he feel to his knees in front of one of the instruments and laid a hand on it as if stoking it. 9 had the immpression these things were very valuable.

"What are they?" asked 9, walking over to where G was kneeled next to his find, face hidden behind his slumped shoulder.

"Trumpits." said G, turning to show 9 the expression on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was pulled to a frown as if someone had attached weights to the corners of his mouth. "The humans would put their mouth on it and breath a certain way to make a sound come out that end. My creator used to show us. He used to say music was one of the few really important things in the world."

9 looked to the trumpit. It really was a strange contraption now that he saw it up close. It's metal tubes twisted in impossible angles and the mouthpiece on the top looking moldy enough to make 9 shiver in disgust. The humans put their mouths on that?

And that word. Music. What was that? Why did it the sheer mention of music make 9's curiosity grow?

"What about these other instruments? What are they called?" he asked, trying to think of music rather than the apparent cost of playing them. he looked at G to keep his gaze averted from the mold.

"Well, " he began, getting up and looking around before recognizing yet another musical instrument and running over to examine it's condition. 9 followed him. "This one seemed to be a french horn."

9 raised an eyebrow and looked it over. This ones tubes were similar to the trumpit, but it was bent in circular, intertwineing fashions, all somehow connecting to a set of three buttons. 9 thought it seemed hypnotic but if he were to take some time to trace the metal tube, it would connect from mouthpiece to the flare.

"What are these instruments used for?" 9 asked, turning his face to G but keeping his optics on the french horn in wonder.

"The humans made them to make music." G said simply, going to examine another french horn nearby. It was that word again... music. 9 reapeated this in his head. Music. It sounded nice, it reminded 9 of sunsets. Sunsets? The very pronounciation of the word music was enough to make 9 imagine sunsets? He could'nt possibly contain his curiosity any more.

"What is music?" asked 9, hanging on G's every word. Or he would have, had G said something. He was currently staring at the french horn, lost in concentration. He knew what it was, it was just hard to describe. He thought about it so long, 9 thought he had fallen asleep and was just about to ask again when G spoke.

"Well... It's sound combined sound that gives you a certain feeling when listening." said G, it was the best answer he could give without sounded like he knew too much but sounding like he knew what he was talking about. 9 caught the gist of it, but he was still unsatistfied. G pulled all of his mouth into one side in a way that made him seem frustrated but determined. He got up and gestured for 9 to follow him.

G looked around the room again, sweeping his eyes across it like a plane in the sky and landing them on a phonograph. He smiled and walked over to it with excitement in every step. 9 followed eagerly, even smiling about what he was about to discover. He had'nt given into the curious temptation of his for too long.

When 9 realized what G was headed for exactly, he stopped. He knew what that was. It was the thing the twins had turned on and played... before... before...

9's hand found his zipper. It gave him closure. He needed a lot of closure.

"I know what that is!" he found himself yelling into the dim music store, closing his hands over his mouth just a second too late. The twins woke up.

"How? You've seen one of these before?" said G, and in response to 9's nod said, "So you know music? What songs have you heard?"

"Songs?" asked 9, tilting his head to the side a little, like a confused puppy.

"Usually three minutes long. It's part of a certain type of music by a certain band or composer. It's kinda hard to explain, I have'nt had to in a long time."

"Oh." said 9, looking over at the twins again. They had noticed the trumpits and french horns and were cataloging them. G followed his gaze and smiled.

"Hey, maybe they can play you some music. Do you think they could?" he asked, starting to walk over to the twins, who looked up at him and smiled cheerily.

9 knew the question was rehtorical, so he did'nt answer. But he knew for sure the twins knew what music was. They knew almost everything. That reminded 9 of something he had to ask them.

9 glanced out of the window anxiously, thinking of 7. Was she OK? Did she need him? Was she needing him near as he just stood here listening to music? No, he could't take it, it hurt too much to think about. He put on his fake smile and casually walked over to join the would-be conversation, had the twins not been mute.

The twins were oblivious to 9's hidden pain, but G was'nt falling for it. In fact, 9 had only put on the smile to mislead the twins, already knowing G would find out anyways. He was too sharp.

He scrutinized 9 as the twins ran over to the phonograph to catalog it and see how to play it. "What's going on?" asked G. 9 sighed, he knew he would.

"7." he said. He did'nt need to say anymore, G put a hand on his shoulder, indicating he understood.

"She will be fine. If your theory is correct, my family has taken her in to help her, she is in good care. She may be in pain, but that's a common side effect." he tried to make a joke of it, but it just made 9 more worried.

"G." said 9, sitting down. G could feel something big coming on and went to sit by him. "I have been the cause of five deaths in my family..."

G did'nt like the way 9 put emphasis on the 'my'. "What do you mean, 'my'?" he said warily.

"I awoke the machine." 9 said it so soft, at first G was'nt sure he heard him correctly. When it sunk it, G felt heat everywhere, and a horrible need to hit 9.

"What?" said G in a hiss that actually made 9 flinch. "Why ?"

"It was'nt on purpose!" said 9, voice raising a little. "My curiosity took over and-"

"Your curiosity ?!" hissed G, standing up and shaking his head in disbelief. 9 shook his head too, it had'nt come out right. What he meant to say was-

"No, just listen-"

"No, you listen!" shouted G, not bothering to hide his rage from the twins, who hugged each other and hide behind a trumpit's flare on the floor, only making the shouts amplified. "Those beasts killed my family! I thought I had done something wrong. All these years! Every year since the machines you awoken had ripped us apart, I had blamed myself for not being strong enough! I had left them! And I regretted it, but I just find out now that had the Scientise not even created you, everyone would be alive!"

G's voice had risen to the point of screaming in rage, and it reminded 9 of himself that night on the roof of their refuge, screaming all he had held in into the stormy night. He remembered feeling all the hate and regret leaving him, the only residue left being a somewhat comforting numbness. G only had a music room to yell into, and he had a lot more to regret than 9, causing his rage to topple over.

G brought out his swiss army knife and whipping out a blade that looked sharp enough to slice 9 in half with one movement. G brought the blade down on 9 before 9 had time to scream. G just let the blade rest on 9's throat, hesitating. 3 had come out from behind the trumpit and was now sprinting full on at G's back, with a piece of duct tape she had collected from someplace unseen.

G turned on her before she could bring the tape over his head and raised the blade on her too before seeing the expression of pure loathing. Her eyes were determined and scared at the same time, and even though she could not speak, G knew exactly what she was trying to say, her optics flashing so fast it looked like one wave of light in them.

Leave him alone you bastard.

G lowered his weapon and fell to his knees in front of 3, putting his face in his hands and dry sobbing. His sounds of deep, unforgiving pain echoed through the music room, and 3 eventually raised her eyebrows in sympathy, kneeling down to let G bury his face in her shoulders, gestering for 9 to give him some space.

9 nodded and scurried away, feeling more like an animal than he had when he had screamed on the rooftop. Only this time he felt like something that only scrurried in alleyways and ate whatever scrap they could find. He felt like a mouse.

No, he felt like a rat.

9 had'nt just gone to the other side of the room and waited for 3 to give a thumbs up or anything. No, he had gone outside to the emptiness. To scream again? Who knew? Only time and the weather, perhaps...

He did'nt really care where he was going, he just kept walking. All through the night, his feet carried him farther and farther from the twins and G, only letting the feeling of being alone seep into 9 like water. It crept through him, and it was such a solid feeling of being empty, 9 felt he was full of it. He wandered aimlessly as the night progressed into darker and darker shades of blue, until it was black, and 9 could only see two feet in front of him.

9 did'nt care,of course. He was numb with not careing at things. Not caring about the twins feelings when they figured out 9 had left them, not caring about G's feelings of uncontrollable hate toward him, not caring about 7... ok, maybe he did still care about 7. Maybe he should go to her on his own, just to say goodbye. Just to say he was'nt coming back when he ran from her this time.

No. He could't do that. He loved her, he loved 3 and 4, he loved G. They were his family now. And he had to move on. G was like 7 and 5 mixed together: he was sensative, like 5, and had a big heart. He was edgy and had advanced skills in speed and stealth, reminding 9 of 7. Since he could find similarities between them, he had thought of G as his friend.

And he had just lost that friend. Maybe forever, depending on time and the weather...

There was so many things 9 had lost in his short life already. And he had been the one to misplace them. He just could'nt get over this. He knew he would'nt. Never. Maybe it was better if he just...

No, that was stupid. He had a purpose, and the scientist had given his life for him, to save the world.

Yeah, right. 9 may have managed to restore a few blades of grass so far, but he could'nt stop thinking he had done more harm than good.

But he would get to see the others again. Yes, that would be OK. He could live without 3 and 4's sympathy and 7's secrets, which made him ponder to no end. He could definately live without G's hate. He would be with simple 5, and clever 2, and the all-knowing 6. He would'nt even mind 1 or 8, boy, they would be a sight for sore eyes!

But you dont know thats what happens after you get into the talisman! You could be trapped in a void of nothing for eternity!

The thoughts pushed their way to 9's thoughts. Maybe this was'nt such a good idea...

Maybe he should just go see 7... Yes, that was the right thing to do...

9 did'nt stop walking until his fet felt like they were on fire and he had to rest, massaging the burlap where it hurt and resting. He knew he had been heading East, and that he had been walking through the night, getting no sleep. Not that he needed it back when he was walking, but he definately needed it now. He wished he had G now, so he would'nt have to search each building for signs of life to find C, D, E, and F.

9 had hardly any energy left, all he knew was that he was alive, and heading East, and wanting to hear 7's voice just one more time before he died of exuastion.

He remembered a building ahead that was huge and circular. It was the only completely undamaged part of this city. 9's optics drooped. He had no choice, not like he would have chosen any other building, this would be his shelter for the day, he needed to rest...

But he could't make it, he could feel every fiber in his body, every metal joint, every wooden piece, groaning in unision at each step. He collapsed, and his body was happy to fall asleep right there and then, in the middle of the day. Any beast could come around a corner of a building and not even see 9 before killing him under their feet, leaving him scrapped along the dirty sidewalk as a mark of scum that never should have been born...

The last thing 9 was concious of was voices, and they came closer, toward him. Lead by a voice he had never heard before. It was a teenage sounding voice, and it was female. But it was not human.

It was a stitchpunk.