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January 2019

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Title: This Can't Be Happening
Fandom: Shane Acker's 9
Focus: 5 and 6
Rating: PG
Notes: Part of an exchange for Halloween, and I decided I might as well post this up here as well, just to prove that I am doing some stuff creative-wise, even if it is small. Basically a short story based around a nightmare these characters might have.



-X-


They didn’t happen every night, and they weren’t always a repeat of the same images, but the nightmares came nonetheless.

Like all dreams, they didn’t make sense, beginning wherever they wanted to. Sometimes it was dark, a closed in space. Other times it was out in the open with nowhere to hide.

It was impossible to tell who the dreamer was; all thoughts were heard, all emotions felt. It didn’t matter if Six screamed to look out before seeing metal claws close around Five, or if Five scrambled to rescue Six from a machine that had trapped him.

The end was always the same.

Five lay on the ground, the machine suddenly gone, and Six dropped to his knees by his side. Five started to sit up but dropped back down when pain ripped through him. It didn’t even feel like he had a body anymore, all there was in him was fire and metal scraping on metal. Six rushed to help him, and when he drew his hands back they were covered in something black and slick.

Five rested his head on the ground and closed his eye. “What happened, Six? Tell me what it looks like.”

It was quiet so long, Five was afraid his friend was too traumatized to speak, but Six’s voice eventually came.

“There’s a big rip all along your front-- I think it’s on your back too. And-” Six took in a shaky breath before continuing, “And there’s a lot of oil and I think wires are cut.”

Five felt the cold realization of knowing what would happen and having no way to stop it. All he could say was, “I was afraid of that.”

“You can fix it, right?”

Five opened his eye to see Six smiling at him, needing hope to hold to. But Five couldn’t give it. He knew the feeling of having it yanked from your grip, and it was more painful than a burn.

“No, I can’t.” he said.

Six’s smile faded as want was beaten down by reality. He slowly shook his head as his hands went to the key hanging from his neck. If one couldn’t hold onto hope, something else was needed to tether them.

“But... But you can fix anything. I’ve seen you do it before.”

Five half-propped himself on his elbows, grimacing from his wounds but finding it wasn’t as bad as before if he stayed in this posture.

“It’s too risky if I tried to do repairs on myself, Six.” he explained. “I can’t see enough to do it right.”

Six nodded and looked wildly to the sides and behind him, but there wasn’t anyone around. He told himself this wasn’t right, it wasn’t possible that Nine or Seven or anyone wouldn’t be there as well. None of this was real, none of it, and yet he couldn’t stop the fear that made his hands shake and his breath catch in his throat.

Five’s vision flickered, twisting things into a grainy , black and white image for a moment. He blinked to make it go away, but it to only made things worse. Everything was happening too fast, it was all whirling out of control, and he felt exhausted from trying to keep the situation in some semblance of order.

He focused his attention to Six, ignoring the way everything wavered in front of him. Six’s breath was coming in such short gasps a human may have fainted from lack of oxygen at that point in time. His hands, unable to grip the key tighter, were twisting around the metal. Five took his arm to stop him. If the only other person with him went into shock then Five would be alone, and that thought terrified him more than anything else.

“But you can’t go!” Six cried.

Five’s vision had grown dimmer, and he could feel his arms protesting against his weight, but he couldn’t rest yet. He couldn’t explain where the feeling came from, but he felt he couldn’t leave things on such a note.

He tried to keep his tone cheerful, but when his voice came out in a raspy whisper, he realized he had only made things seem worse. “There’s not much I can do that about.”

Six blinked rapidly, an action related to something he couldn’t do as a created thing, but his soul still felt and needed to release.

“But I’ll miss you.”

Five laughed, though there wasn’t anything funny about the situation. Trust Six to put so many worries down to its most basic form. Half the time Five barely understood what his striped friend talked about, but there were still moments when he stated his thoughts so short and clear.

Five lifted his hand to place it against the side of Six’s face-- and he tried his best to ignore how much effort that took-- and said in a voice that he was aware was too calm, but it was either that or he would be too overcome with panic to speak, "I'm sorry. I'll miss you, too."

For a moment, Six stared at him, expression blank. Then he pressed his head against Five's broken chest, small cries blocked by fabric.

"This isn't happening," Six whimpered. "This isn't happening, this isn't. Not like this, not like this, not like this."

It was all he could say, just those phrases over and over again. And all Five could do was lay his head down and close his eyes. He didn't have enough energy to do much else, and he kept trying not to think I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die.

The nightmares usually ended there. Sometimes they ended sooner, before Six began to cry, and sometimes they ended later, when everything had become much too quiet.

They never remembered those dreams clearly, but sometimes in the days following, Six would stop drawing because the ink on his fingers reminded him of something else he couldn't quite recall, and Five would jump at small noises, especially metallic creaks.

And no matter how much they wanted to, they never asked each other, "Did you dream that too?" because they were selfish and wanted some hope to cling to.
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