Strength and Insecurity
Fandom: 9
Characters: Scientist and 8
Word Count: 984
Warnings: None
I can't help but smile while studying my children. Only 1 – indirectly – knows of my existence, for he stumbled into my lab one day quite by accident. He was running from 7, I believe, who likes to wield her spear at some of the others in a display of showmanship and self-discovery. She's not curious enough to find me out, but she's brave and quick. I never know when she'll pop out from behind something or drop from a shelf to frighten the others. She does not heed to the leadership 1 began to impose upon them after his discovery of my lab, but neither does she exhibit intentions of leading in his place. She only rises in anger against him to protect 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6, but especially 3 and 4 as she seems to have developed a maternal bond with this child-like pair. She has grown a warrior in a very short amount of time – a noble, loyal, protective warrior – but she is not the leader I had hoped she would be at her creation. I heave a sigh as I move from the door and return to my lab. My newest creation is built for strength and strength alone. I turn him over now that the ink on his shoulder has dried and stare at his simple face. I did not put enough of my strength into 7, and I do not believe she is sufficient protection for the others. But, paired with the strength of this new child, perhaps they can succeed as saviors together. I am fearful of what effect this will have on my body as I turn to the Fabrication Machine, but if I survive, there is still one last theory I will have to test. I can feel the strength ripped from my body as I'm flooded with light. I cannot afford to lose anymore of my intelligence, but strength I can spare. What need have I for strength?
8 looked to their leader with a questioning gaze as 2 exited the room. If anyone should take 7's place as the physical protection against the Beast, it was 8. But what right had he to question the decisions of one so much smarter than them all? 8 was sure that 1 knew more than any of the others ever would. He felt confident in this fact, though he could never quite grasp what that something was. It was more a feeling than a knowing. 8 was not very sensitive, some might call him a brute, but he did feel things from time to time. Mostly, he felt that 1 had the best intentions for them. He had the most experience and he took command. 8 liked that. He liked for someone to tell him what to do with his massive strength. 7 had bossed him around a few times as they battled the Beast, but when there was no immediate danger, she left him to his own devices. At these times, 8 had no idea how to conduct himself. He had no idea how to react to the others because no one would tell him. It caused him to shy away from them in the only way he knew how: by being intimidating. He was glad when 1 took complete control, and after 7 disappeared, no one stood against him. The certainty of his command put 8's mind at ease, and, so, he repaid him with utter obedience. There was no questioning 1. 1's word was law in this world.
He supposed the others wondered why he, the strongest of them all, would follow the weakest, physically speaking. He could see it in their glares when he did the leader's bidding without pause. However, he was sure they did not see him as a bad guy. He did help protect them, after all. He simply couldn't connect to the others the way he could the assertive 1. As previously stated, 7 – despite her own form of aggression – had no desire to tell 8 what to do. He was something of a nuisance to her when she was around. 2, 3, and 4 were rather equally unqualified. They were always wrapped up in their own minds, thinking. Thinking too much bothered 8. It scared him. He didn't understand it. 5 only ever followed 2 around, helping him with his inventions and their strange obsession with 6's drawings. And 6…. Well, 8 hated to admit it, but 6 frightened him to a degree. He was the strangest of all, though no smarter than he, or so he thought. It was hard to tell. He just drew and mumbled and scratched at his head all day, trying to remember something 1 said wasn't even real. Why anyone would continue such futile work, he did not understand. Once 1 said it was useless, it was useless, and that was enough for 8.
So, when 1 told him to escort the twins into the forbidden area, there was no hesitation. The smallest of them were the least of his worries. They couldn't even really communicate with him. He had no idea how to decipher the meaning of the jumbled images and letters they projected to him through their flickering optics. He wondered, watching 2 leave for a mission that should have been his, if they ever realized he had abandoned them. A pang of guilt shot through his mighty chest, but it had been an order. Surely, they had simply thought themselves lost when they turned to find he was no longer there. They couldn't have possibly died, cursing his name in their strange language of images and letters. He clutched the handle of his large blade tightly and turned his eyes to the floor. It was an order from 1. That made it right. 1 was always right, he assured himself. Always.