One Shots/Drabbles

Tick Tock (Backstory) (Shane Acker's 9)

The Scientist sighed, cradling the still unmoving stitchpunk in his hand. He wasn't sure what had happened - everything was fine for One and Two and Three and Four - for some reason this one would not wake up. He knew what he had to do, he had to start over from scratch. He gave them a gentle caress across their head, smiling down at them.

"I wish I could've met you. The others would have adored you, I'm sure."

He took what he needed, a few wires, the voice box, bits of fabric. He tried to replace every piece he took from them with something similar, if glitchier, thinner or less durable. Even though they technically had never come to life, he felt bad leaving them in pieces.

He placed them in a small box, closed the lid, and began to work on his next stitchpunk.

- - -

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

That was all they could hear. Their optics refused to open, their limbs refused to move. But they could hear, and that's all they could hear.

Time was different for them. They couldn't tell if it had been minutes or hours, but eventually they fell back asleep.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The second time they woke up, it was different. They could hear clearer now, not just the ticking noise. They could hear voices, too hushed for them to understand but they knew it meant they were not alone. They still couldn't see so they tried calling out, but no words came. They kept trying, and trying until eventually they'd exhausted their body so much they fell back asleep. The ticking continued.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

This time their optics opened. They were in a small place, and it was warm. They liked that it was warm. They were lying on a soft, dark purple fabric. They wished they could move their fingers to hold it. Outside, one of the voices had disappeared but the other was still talking. They couldn't make out what he was saying.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

BANG.

They tried to sit up, hitting their head on the top of the box. As they fell back they felt woozy. Everything fell into darkness quickly - too quickly. Would they even wake up this time?

Instead of the familiar ticking, they fell asleep to the sound of sirens.

WHHHHRRRRRRR. WHHHHHRRRRRR. WHHHHRRRRRRR. WHHHHHRRRRRR.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

They almost felt like crying as they opened their optics. They thought for sure they were never going to wake up again. Every part of them felt achy and tired but they were alive.

As they properly woke up, it finally registered that something was different about their surroundings. Their fingers scratched the floor and it felt... different. There was a soft pressure on their back and overall it seemed much lighter than it usually was. They pushed themselves forward, ordering their body to stand. And as the did, the fabric fell away from their face and for the first time, they saw the sky.

It was night, the stars twinkling softly in the burning light of the city. They turned towards the only light source, a single candle on a desk. Next to it was a man, old and withered and so, so tired.

They wrapped themself the cloth that had been with them since they first woke up, and snuck out the open window. They gave one last glance around the room, to their creator, the papers that surrounded him and to the clock that had kept them company whilst they had been alone.