Zero vaguely heard One barking for Eight and Nine to get their asses out of bed. His attention was focused on the sheet of paper in his hands. He read of the pain of not being heard, of being forgotten in a crowd, of tears much deeper than a single hurt could produce. Empty cries that went unheeded, questions of why they weren't heard, why they weren't noticed. Were they not special enough? Did their talents and skills not matter? Were they...loved? It broke Zero's heart, and he numbly walked into the bedroom to find One chewing them out. He shoved the paper right in front of his face. It was pushed away. He put it back. It was shoved away. He got mad.

"Read the damn song, One," he said in a low, dangerous tone.

Everybody looked at him in surprise. One took the paper, eyes scurrying across the lines. He was frowning when he was done. Eight and Nine were resolutely staring at the floor.

"It was late. He was exhausted. Would you begrudge him sleep?"

"He didn't even talk to us. He didn't even ask," Eight muttered, sounding like he was close to tears. "And he never said it to Nine."

"Said what?" Zero asked. He got a look from One, but he ignored it.

"That you love him. You didn't get to say it when he woke up. But you didn't say it when you were making him either."

Zero stared at Nine. One gestured for him to sit down beside the shivering male. Zero did so, pulling Nine close, kissing him.

"I love you, Nine. You're my youngest. You all have special places in my soul, but yours is the most special. I pulled all of their souls together to make you. That is why you are to save them. A part of each of them is inside you."

"Really?" One asked in surprise.

~Of course.~ Nine said. He took out his soul, then began to pull little baubles off of it until there were nine. Everybody stared.

"There's nine. Eight for us. Who's the other?"

"Me," Zero said with a smile. He turned Nine's head. "You must understand how tired I was, Nine. It was like nothing you can imagine."

~I already told you I split my own soul in two. That means I know better than anybody how tired you were. I told you, I couldn't move for a month. I couldn't even sleep I was so tired. And when I could, the nightmares were horrible. Absolutely horrible. Especially the blank ones. I knew I was supposed to be seeing you, but I couldn't see you. None of us could once we left your hands. Not even One or Six, and they had known you. So don't you dare say we haven't had it hard.~

"I never said that. But certainly when the others found you it got easier."

"Nine didn't find us," One said quietly. "After about a year, he knew where we were. But he didn't come to us."

"Why not?" Zero asked in shock.

~Because they didn't need a freak like me bothering them. Sometimes I still think that.~

"Nine! How many times must we tell you that we love you!" Seven asked in dismay.

Nine shrugged. ~I don't think you could say it enough. And I'm sorry I feel that way.~

"That comes from me," Zero said softly. "I'm sorry, Nine. Forgive me for that."

"How does that come from you?" Two asked.

"My mother died giving birth to my sister and I. Father took to alcohol. Our relatives hated us. And all of my friends abused the friendship to get what they wanted from me. The same with my sister. She was finally raped and killed. I left after the murder and became a jack-of-all-trades. I could do just about anything. Still I was used and abused by everybody but you, and I had to release you into the world. I lived without you for so long, and it is surreal to hear your voices again. I understand his pain. And I would have to agree with his sentiments. I don't think it's possible for me to get enough of your love. And I'm sorry for it."

There was silence for a few moments then Eight pulled both of them close. "You only have to ask us how we feel. We love both of you. Isn't that right?"

There was a chorus of agreement, and One kissed each of them. "We love you so much. Without either of you, we probably wouldn't exist anymore. We will tell you that as much as you need. Just ask. Or express the need."

They nodded, and Zero took the paper from one again. "So you two write music?"

~I don't. I write lyrics. And I write…everything else, too.~

"I compose the music. Nine can do that, too, but it takes more work and time for him to do so. The same is true about words for me. And everybody else."

"Well, I would expect that!" Zero exclaimed. "No two people are alike! Not even the twins! They focus on different things when cataloguing. And you focus on different things to be your talents and skills. Nothing wrong with that. It's only natural. I would be rather disappointed if you were all the same. Variety is good. Now, show me your music. I have all day."

Eight was happy to comply, and they spent hours on his music. Then…Zero found something else. Eight was talking about sharps and flats and how useful they were, but that faded as he read of death and gore so thick that he felt as if he were choking on it. A hand to his shoulder made him jump badly, and he stared with wide eyes at Eight.

"What piece are you looking at? I've never seen you make that face before."

He handed it over, and Eight paled, putting it down. "Nine! Your turn."

Nine stood shyly in the doorway, blushing. ~I didn't mean to leave that out.~

"Why would you write something like that?" Zero asked, sounding a little…disgusted. Six came up beside him.

"I draw terrible things. I showed you. And One no doubt talked about a few before you went to bed last night."

~You're allowed to do that because you don't write it. That's his preferred method of obtaining information.~

"I didn't say you weren't allowed to write it down," Zero said reproachfully. "I just…didn't expect it."

"Lunch is ready," One said cheerily as he came up the stairs. He paused when he saw the look on Nine's face. He turned and walked past One down to the dining room. One slammed his hand on Zero's chest as he attempted to do the same. "Are you eternally against your youngest?"

"What?"

"What did you do?"

"I was just…surprised at something."

"What?"

They walked over to the desk and One picked up the paper that Zero pointed to. He read it, his expression not changing. He looked up.

"I told you last night of a machine blowing off a person's head. Of a child with half of himself missing. Of a girl being raped by those who were sworn to protect her. How is this any different?"

"It just is, One! Now, I'm going to go eat."

"No, you're not."

"What?"

"You, my friend, are going to sit and read. That is not an option. If you get through enough, you get to eat dinner. If not…And you may talk to Nine about whatever you read, but nobody else."

Eight's music fluttered into organized groups then were settled in the drawer that Nine's papers came out of. One forced him into the chair, explained the structure of organization that Nine employed then kissed his head and went to his lunch.

Zero looked over the titles that were presented to him then selected one, opened it up, ignored his complaining stomach, which he was very used to doing, and began to read. He had always been a fast reader, and he completed the first one in thirty minutes. One came back up to check on his progress.

"How's it going?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you."

There was laughter from behind him, but he ignored it, turning the page. At some point, Nine settled beside him, watching his face. It was very expressive, like his was. Nine kept his eyes on his face, and he wanted to touch it to make sure it was really there. He finally reached over to stroke his cheek. Zero jumped, turning to inquire…then he saw himself in those golden eyes, so he simply smiled and faced his child.

Nine's fingers traced his features, eyes dashing over the skin. He was so focused that he didn't notice One standing with pursed lips. The fingers got to his shirt, and tugged lightly.

"You still haven't catalogued us, Nine," One said quietly.

Nine jumped and blushed, eyes moving to the ground. Zero blinked.

"Why not?"

"He says it's not his place. He doesn't want to bother us. We wouldn't really want to. And about twenty other reasons," One said with a frown.

"Nine?" Zero asked softly.

~I'm not the twins. It's not a need, it's a want, and one they don't want to fulfill. Now that I think about it, you don't want to do it either. You don't have to read my terrible writings anymore. I'm going out for a walk.~

One looked powerless to stop him as he pulled on a cloak and walked out. Zero watched him go.

"Well," he said to the watching Stitchpunks-turned-human, as they had all gathered to see him depart. "Those are my insecurities alright. Although, I did do the equivalent of cataloguing my sister. When she was five, eight, ten, thirteen, and fifteen. She catalogued me as well. I balked at the thought of doing so to anybody else."

"Naked?" Six asked in confusion.

"Yes. We lived alone by the time we were thirteen, as my father had had an accident, leaving us orphans. Nothing came of it. We were just curious children. She was the only one I was close enough to do that with. And I would guess that the twins had some reluctance to do it to you as Stitchpunks when you first met them?"

Understanding was dawning in One's eyes. "Yes. They wanted to do so very badly. To the point where they shook. I woke up one night to find their hands tracing my spine. From the front. After a brief spell of anger, I sat down and explained that, as long as they asked, they were free to catalogue whoever they wanted. But I've done the same for Nine. I don't understand why he still refuses."

"He was fine doing it to you," Two said.

"Until," Zero replied.

"Until?"

Three and Four conversed with their eyes then leaped forward. ~Until One spoke up!~

"What?"

~Every time you ask, One, or somebody else, it's always in front of people!~ Three said excitedly

~Yes! Yes! That is true! We ourselves were reluctant to catalogue in front of anybody!~ Four added.

"What?"

"It's simple, One," Zero said. "He doesn't feel close enough to all of you yet. You are not his Maryanna. Or his Four. Ask in private, One. All of you. Except for maybe the twins. Understand?"

They nodded, and Zero's stomach snarled, making him cringe. There was suddenly a plate of steak in One's hands, piping hot, and Zero wolfed it down. Or he tried to.

"We are not starving, therefore we will eat neatly," One said sternly.

Zero made a face, but obeyed.