The light in the sky was finally dimming, and he knew it was time to find a place to sleep. The only problem was, where? Which place could he sleep in without the danger of being discovered?

0 prided himself on being a self-sufficient person - er, stitchpunk. Being the oldest and thus having the worst design did nothing to diminish his pride. If anything, it made it greater, and the tiny stitchpunk knew it.

He was tired, so incredibly tired...

Oh if 1 were here...0 snorted. His younger brethren would likely drag him off to the closest covered area, something he wouldn’t be able to stand.

The fear of enclosed spaces was indeed a burden sometimes. But one he had been saddled with his entire life, and one he had long since grown used to.

He stumbled. Frowning, he glanced down at his feet. Yes, they were much bigger than they should have been at his size, but he supposed the Scientist could be forgiven for this - after all, he had never made a stitchpunk before this. 0 was practice for the others, the reason they’d been able to become successes in the Scientist’s eyes.

But it wasn’t the size of his feet that caused him to stumble, he realized with mixed nervousness and annoyance. It was happening again, and if he was smart then he’d find a safe place to sleep immediately and tough it out there.

The problem was, yet again - where? This area was not safe in the least bit, and if the increasing stiffness in his legs was any indicator, he didn’t have much time before he toppled over, paralyzed.

It was unfortunate, but nothing he would ever admit to readily. The humiliation if any of the others knew...he had to get through it, just one more time.

Although...perhaps 2 knew, that one always WAS a little too observant for his own good...

Never before had 0 been so grateful to have his staff, with its tiny swinging lantern. The lantern had been taken from a “Christmas” (whatever that was) doll set, containing an actual bulb, and put onto the staff by 2 himself. And 0 loved it. Not only was it useful for finding his way in the darker parts of the Emptiness, it also helped with his increasingly stiff limbs during his “episodes”.

Again, nothing he’d ever admit to.

And...there, that spot should do it, he thought tiredly. The space under a crashed car. Although it would be impossible for him to sleep, cramped up underneath it and made nervous by that simple fact, at least that annoying Cat Skull Monster wouldn’t be able to reach him under there.

He had spotted the car not a moment too soon - the second he saw it, his right leg gave a twitch and stiffened up completely. Swearing under his breath, 0 hauled himself closer to the demolished vehicle, his paralyzed leg dragging behind him. And then the real trouble set in.

He had been expecting it to happen; after all, it always did. But, he hadn’t counted on it happening so fast. With another twitch, his left leg gave out, and he collapsed onto the dirt without hesitation, unable to support himself any longer.

A snarl of anger escaped the small stitchpunk’s mouth. Not five feet from the blasted car, and he was stuck! Already he could feel his arms beginning to stiffen up...

Before that happened, he needed to drag himself to the car if he wanted a hope of staying alive that night, 0 realized. Grunting, he began to claw at the ground in an attempt to drag himself closer to his destination, only to realize that his fingers, far too skinny and made of broken metal, did nothing but make lines in the dirt. Nor were they strong enough to get much of a grip on anything either, he was forced to admit.

Perfect, simply perfect. He was stuck, and who knew what else besides the Cat prowled the Emptiness?

How...utterly embarrassing. If only 1 could see him now...

Somebody giggled.

His head snapped up, and began to frantically search for the perpetrator. After a moment, his optics fell upon the form of what seemed to be another stitchpunk, but not one that he had ever seen before. He frowned. That wasn’t right; there was barely anything in the Emptiness he didn’t know about. And the awakening of another stitchpunk shouldn’t have been on that list.

She giggled again when he frowned at her, and came dashing over, kneeling beside him faster than his optics could track. “Hi!” she said. “What are you doing, on the floor like that?”

“Writing a report on dirt,” 0 replied snappishly. “What do you THINK?”

“Hm, it looks more like you’re having trouble walking,” she replied thoughtfully, “but OK, if you say so.”

With a start, 0 realized that she must have been very young indeed not to have gotten the sarcasm in there, but quickly decided it was unimportant at the moment. “Listen, I need some help.”

“With what?”

He resisted the urge to roll his optics and instead explained patiently, “With getting over to that car, if you don’t mind. Right now, walking is sort of beyond me.”

“But what about your report?” she asked, honestly confused, and this time he DID roll his optics. “There was no report; now if you don’t mind...?”

Nodding, she carefully picked him up and set him down on his feet, then patted his shoulder. He promptly fell over again, unable to balance, with a yelp.

She yelped too, and, face down in the dirt, 0 wondered if all the times he had teased 1 were finally coming back to haunt him. “Are you alright?!” she asked, bending down once again. “What’s the matter with you? Why can’t you walk?”

“Stiff mechanisms,” he managed to lift his face off the ground long enough to say before his neck joints failed as well and he flopped back down. “Mmmm-mmmppphhh-nnnn.”

“What?” she asked, lifting his face back up for him so he could talk.

“I said, ‘and it sucks’.”

“I can see why,” she laughed, then without further ado, scooped him up and began to drag him off - away from the car he had so desperately been trying to reach.

“Hey, that’s where I--” he began, but she cut him off.

“Nope, nope, that’s not safe! I’ve gotta better place, you’ll see!”

Which probably meant a roof. Which meant indoors. Which meant his claustrophobia would be kicking in. He began to struggle - or to TRY to struggle, anyway. Unfortunately, his limbs were so useless by this time that he could barely even wiggle. “I don’t DO indoors!”

She surprised him by giggling again, and he was honestly at a loss. Why did she keep laughing like that? Did she not see the serious-ness of the situation? Paralyzation was no small thing.

If 0 were to be honest with himself, he would admit that this was the first time he’d ever been at a loss as to what to say back to someone else. Usually it was the other way around, with everybody wondering what to say to him.

“It’s not what you think it is!” she assured him, then blurted out, “My name’s 21. What’s yours?”

“0.”

“Oh, there’s your number right there!” 21 poked his forehead, where the digit had been painted in black ink. “Funny place to put it! Nearly everyone else has it on their back.”

He smiled wryly. “I’m special.”

After about half an hour, she finally dragged him into what seemed to be a decimated schoolroom, complete with old, dirty books and desks and other things lying about. To 0’s relief, there was no roof - at some point in that long, horrible war, it had been torn or blasted away, and he could see the dark, cloudy sky perfectly. Well that was good. At least he wouldn’t be having a panic attack in front of this total stranger.

21 dragged him on top of a pile of three books - a New World dictionary and two encyclopedias, and laid him down on his side, curling the stiff fingers of his left hand around his staff for him. He noticed that she handled him carefully, frowning. “You don’t have to be so careful. Nothing will break off, I promise.”

“But if you’re so stiff, you need to be treated nicely,” 21 explained, and he blinked at her. “When was the last time you got oiled? Maybe your joints are rusty.”

That was a good question, and one 0 did not know the answer to. “I haven’t been opened up since the day I was awakened.” he informed her. “Nor do I intend to be - go near the laces and you die.” He saw her optics go to the laces on his chest, eyeing them critically. “These weren’t laced up very well,” she said, and tugged on them. They snapped, and she stared. “...um.”

“Just leave me in peace to die.” 0 snapped, trying to roll over without success. He was a little mortified when she actually reached over to help, pushing him onto his back for him, making sure his hood didn’t fall off and his staff stayed in his hand. Without another word, 21 jumped off the three books and curled up on the floor underneath them, obviously trying to go to sleep.

0 blinked at this sudden action, a feeling that reminded him oddly of guilt seeping through him. Scowling, he threw it off. He’d have to see about finding a new set of laces once he loosened up. Perhaps 2 had an extra set lying around somewhere...

Hours later, he awoke to hear a strange sound coming from beneath him, and rolled over to investigate. A thrill of joy sped through him when he realized that, except for a slight lingering ache, he could move around again. Taking advantage of his regained mobility, he poked his head over the top of the book he was lying on and looked down.

It was 21, only she wasn’t sleep-talking as he had originally thought. She was tangled up in what appeared to be an unraveled ball of thick red yarn and attempting without success to extricate herself. Although, judging by the giggles coming from her mouth, she was having more fun than one might have thought.

She chanced a glance upwards and her grin widened. “Look! I found you some new laces! Only,” she laughed, “I’m a little stuck...”

0 managed a smile of his own. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that stuck before. Unless you count 5 and that tapestry.”

21 laughed again, and he had to admit that that was an odd noise to be hearing. Back at 1’s sanctuary, no one laughed, barely even smiled. To see someone actually show joy for once was strange.

“You’re not a very happy person, are you?” 21 asked suddenly, and he blinked at her. “Huh?”

Not the most articulate answer he had ever come up with, but it would have to do.

“You smile a lot, but you don’t mean it,” she replied. “They’re all fake or just smirks. What’s the point of smiling if you don’t mean it? ...like right now, you’re overdoing it.”

“Anything worth doing is worth overdoing,” 0 retorted, although he had to admit that he was glad for an excuse to stop trying to smile - his face was beginning to hurt.

21 sighed, pulling more red yarn off of herself and handing it up to him. She smiled when it slipped from his fingers, and quickly shoved a fistful at him - the bulkier it was, the easier he would be able to grasp it. It was lucky his fingers were so sharp, she decided as he cut a length of the yarn and began to lace himself back up with it, pulling the broken laces out of himself as he went along.

“Why this?” She looked up, confused.

“Eh?”

“Why this color?” 0 repeated. “You could have gotten black or brown or any other color that would be more practical. So why red? It’s like a beacon saying, ‘I’m here, come get me!’”

Once again, 21 laughed. “Because it’s a happy color, and you need to start being happy more often,” she replied. “Being that cynical all the time can’t be healthy.”

It was still dark out, and instead of answering, 0 turned the lantern of his staff on and lowered it to get a better look at her. Hooded like himself, but in a full-body cloak with the sleeves covering her hands. What he could see of her body underneath it appeared to all be wrapped in string. Instead of being written on her actual back, the number “21” was sewn into the back of her cloak. He furrowed his brows. Was that intentional or a mistake? Or was she not really 21 but some other number?

Ignoring his scrutiny, 21 instead decided it would be much more fun to play with the lantern and, giggling again, gently swatted at it. It swung from the force of her push, and she did it again and again, laughing all the while.

Deciding to give up being cynical for the moment, 0 instead watched her play, a bored look on his face. But, for the first time in a long time, he could feel himself truly relaxing.

It was nice to have someone to depend upon for a bit, even if that someone WAS really weird.

~

For ~hopelessromantic721 It’s our 9 characters, 0 and 21. I like her character; she’s so cute X3 Anyway, 21 seems to like playing jokes and things on the others, so that’s where this came from.

0, though naturally a bit of a prankster himself, actually likes very few people. The only stitchpunks he really has taken a shine to are 2, 7, and 9. Even in the case of the latter, it’s more or less just being amused by him. It takes a special person to crack his shell.

My thinking here is that, having been rescued from being killed by the Cat Beast by 21, 0 is forced to sort of look at himself and his own flaws for once instead of making fun of everyone else’s. She drives him nuts in the process, which in turn will make 1 happy once he finds out about it since 0’s always giving him grief xD

No, there’s no romantic implications here. It’s just 0 proving that even HE can be a nice guy sometimes XD

Um...0 is actually supposed to be creamy / off-white, but I have it in my head that his fabric has either faded or is just really dirty, hence why it’s gray in the picture.

ONE OF HER SLEEVES IS MESSED UP COLORING-WISE, YES, I KNOW. Leave me alone, it’s late and I’m exhausteeeedddddd D:

XD Anyway, hope you like! Especially you, ~hopelessromantic721 :3

21 © ~hopelessromantic721
0 © *Chaos-Master
Art © *Chaos-Master