Why Won't They Tell Me?

Flinty-bun, That's It.

Twenty-three smugly watched as Three reprimanded Twenty for hiding an injury, tying the bandage a bit too tightly to show her annoyance.

"Now, leave it alone, and no dancing that involves using your arm."

Twenty stared ahead, sighing and nodding.

"Good, make sure he actually does that. Okay?"

Twenty-three saluted.

"Come on Twenty." He coaxed him of the examination table, leading him out the door.

"It's not that bad."

"Yes it is."

Twenty had his eyes shut.

"This is one of the worst things to ever happen to me."

"It's just a little check up."

"And this." He gestured to his arm, "Was just a little scratch! I'd have been fine, you don't need to worry."

"No you wouldn't have, you heard Three, if you'd have hid that any longer you could've permanently damaged it."

"I'm pretty sure she would've said the same about my twisted leg, and I did fine."

"Why are you overreacting like this?"

"Because I can't dance now! You know, the one thing I love best? The one thing that makes me me? I can't do it now! All because I went to the doctor."

Twenty sniffled, "This was the arm I use for my cane. I can't switch, that'll ruin my form."

"We all like you, even if you can't dance. But just think Twenty, if you permanently damaged your arm, you still wouldn't be able to dance."

"I would have, I could've pulled it off."

Twenty looked to the ceiling.

"What if I get fired from being an agent because I'm hurt?"

"Please Twenty, you don't have to worry about that.."

"I'm useless. There's nothing I can do, you can like me all you want, but you can't change the fact that I can't do anything." He pulled his hand from Twenty-three, "I can go in my room by myself, thanks for even taking me this far..."

The dejected numberblock opened the door and shut it behind him, leaving the other outside.

Twenty-three then got an idea.

"You're gonna see how important you are whether you like it or not Twenty."
_____________________________________

Nineteen helped Twenty-eight to her bed, tucking her in and slipping out the door quietly.

"Erhm, Nineteen was it?"

Nineteen jumped six feet in the air, putting a hand to chest.

"You scared me.."

"Sorry, but need some help. You are Nineteen still, right?"

"The one and only."

"Really?"

"No."

"Oh, okay... I need some help."

"You said that already."

"Oh, can you help me?"

"First off, what do you need help with?"

"I need help with Twenty, he's hurt right now, and he thinks he's useless. I want to prove he isn't."

"Sure, I've felt the same way before, but word of advice: do NOT get Eighteen. Not the best help."

"Oookaayyy.. I won't."

Twenty-three took off, ready to go ask the next block.

"I wonder which one's Eighteen..."
_____________________________________

"Worst. Mission. Ever!" Twenty-six yelled, hanging upside down by his leg, "Now how are we supposed to get home?"

"Octoblock break free! 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8! Break free!"

Nothing happened.

"Well, that usually works.."

Seventeen tried to reach his paintbrush, but it was too far down.

"Maybe if I.."

He tried to rearrange himself so he could get it, but he was shocked and forced to go back to normal.

"This isn't working! We need another idea."

Twenty-one, who was unable to move at all, sighed.

"What ideas? I tried and succeeded in breaking out, but all it does is latch onto me again."

Nine did a quick head count.

"Where's Fifteen?"

"Good question, probably running for her life." Twenty-six tried again to wiggle free to no avail, "You think she's coming back with help?"

Seventeen shook his head, "I doubt she left in the first place. She wouldn't do that."

"Okay smarty-pants, where is she then?"

"Uh... Right there!" He whispered.

Lo and behold, Fifteen was creeping past two tentacles, looking for a way to save her friends.

"I have a plan, distract them for me?"

Nine nodded in confirmation.

"Distractions."

Twenty-six smirked, "Easy. Just leave this to Flinty-bun."

"Not this again..You can't walk around calling yourself that."

"I can, I am, and there's nothing you can do to stop me, Seventeen."

The darkness seemed interested in what was going on.

"We can vote on it."

"Sure."

"Nine? Do you think Flinty-bun is an acceptable name for a numberblock."

"I mean, if he wants. I didn't think Octoblock was a good name and Eight still uses it."

"It is a good name! I came up with it myself!"

"Tell him, Eight, we can pick names."

"If we are doing this, then I wanna be Dora."

"No, you are not picking Dora."

"Even I agree with that, you can be... uh." Eight shrugged.

"Flinty-nyoot?"

"What?"

"Are you serious? Stop with the Flinty-whatevers."

"Why? It's funny."

"I like it."

"No you do not like it Twenty-one, it's horrible."

"But I like that name."

"No you-"

Abruptly, all of them fell from the ceiling and onto the ground.

"Let's move team, we can finish this later."

The group cleared put of the place like magic, running across the fields.

Eight still struggled to keep a hold of Seven.

"Eight?" The lucky block coughed, "Where are we going?"

"To the meeting point!"

"You can't take me there! I told you that-"

"Shh! We'll deal with that later."

"No, we need to deal with it now."

"If I said later, it's later!"

Seven gave up and stopped trying to make Eight drop him.

"Fine."