OUR WORLD

A "9" fanfiction by Supa Supa Bad Truly Mad Moves

Hello there. I've never written fanfiction for "9" before. I have only just added it to my List of Inspiring Things. It is a very long list, and "9" may just be the new topper.

Anyway, here's my first attempt at writing for "9". Enjoy.

Disclaimer: "9" ain't my property. Sorry to disappoint you.

Chapter 1: New

9 crawled to the top of the mound where he had seen 7. He settled down next to her.

"Good morning, 9," she said quietly. Her eyes were closed, and she was reveling in the wind blowing in her face. It was a new sort of wind, like the stitchpunks had never before felt; it was not hostile at all, indeed refreshing.

From their vantage point, they could see 3 some distance away, digging through some rubble at the foot of a building.

"What's he looking for?" 9 asked.

"I'm not sure," 7 replied. "They've been digging around for a couple of days now, haven't they?"

"Yes," 9 agreed. "Where's 4?"

"Scurrying around somewhere, I'm sure."

9 frowned. "I've never seen the twins apart. Are you sure they're okay?"

7 finally opened her eyes and turned to 9, smiling at him. "9, you haven't been with us for very long. I've known 3 and 4 for years; trust me, they don't need to be around each other all the time."

"Right," 9 muttered. "I forget that sometimes… that I was never really part of the group."

"Sure you are," 7 assured him. "You're just new. There's no shame in that."

7 tapped 9 comfortingly on the shoulder before returning to her meditation.

She hadn't realized it, but simple gestures like that had been causing alarming reactions in 9 ever since the rainstorm ended. 9 didn't know what it meant, but every friendly pat from 7 had him longing for more. Yes, wouldn't it have been lovely if 7 accentuated her comments, not with simple taps or hugs, but with gentle caresses across his face or hands…?

Only for him, though. 9 knew that he wouldn't want to see her doing that to 3 or 4.

He had considered voicing those desires to 7, but something, perhaps residual social knowledge from his creator, the Scientist, told him that she would not be pleased. This internal debate had been going on for a while; the sun had set and then risen ten times now since the first rain.

9 couldn't keep his curiosity at bay, though. He knew it was his greatest fault, probably the reason for the five memorials near the First Room, but he couldn't hold it in any longer. He focused his attention on 7's smooth, white back, with her number written on it in ink. 9 reached out with one finger and delicately traced the shape of the number.

7 was still meditating. 9 had no way of knowing if she'd noticed.

It was a few seconds later that 7 stretched her legs and opened her eyes, smiling at 9 as if realizing he was there for the first time.

"What's on your mind?" she asked.

"Oh, not much," 9 lied. "Just, um… wondering about the years of the war, in the sanctuary. 1 had you and the twins crossed off on his little chart… like you were dead. 'Lost', he called you."

7 shrugged. "Well, we were dead to him, probably. 3 and 4 were the first to leave; they wanted to learn, to read, to discover. 1 wouldn't have any of that, so he kicked them out. Then I left, too, after a while. I guess I just couldn't stand living my whole life in one place."

9 looked out across the wasteland. "Do you think we really are all that remains? Maybe there are more remnants of humanity out there, somewhere."

7 scoffed. "More likely there are more machines, ready to hunt us down to destroy the tiny pieces of human soul that we possess. We'll be ready for them, though."

9 pulled the Talisman out from where he kept it, zipped up inside himself. "What are we supposed to do?" he muttered. "The others, their souls are free, but how do we 'protect the future'?"

7 shrugged her shoulders. Apparently she wasn't too worried about the future. In the present, she was content, more so than any time in her life. "Finding anything down there, 3?" she called.

3 waved to her enthusiastically, holding up some sort of blueprints.

"What is that?" 9 asked.

7 shrugged. "If they want to, they'll explain it to us later." She tousled the top of 9's head. "For now, we just have to keep on living. We can't just let the world go by."

7 slid elegantly down the mound and set off, clearly ready to search out some unexplored region of the town.

9 sighed. She was so much more finely-crafted than he was, whether he was a later design or not. As much as he wanted to hold her, why would she want to be held? 9 went down the opposite end of the mound, returning to the memorial, to be alone with his thoughts and the graves of his friends.