Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Number 14 closed the door behind them slowly, quietly. The house was silent, all of the girls asleep in their rooms, all except for one. Number 13 stood at the entryway, a small smile gracing her face and her expression worn. Her short brown hair looked messy, a stark contrast to 14’s long, brushed hair.

“Hey. Took you long enough.”

Number 14 looked at 13 with regret and guiltiness. She hadn’t meant to take this long, she knew it had been hard for 13, but there was nothing she could do.

“I know, 13 trust me. It’s late, you should probably go to bed. I’ll take care of things in the morning.”

14 watched as 13 sighed and dragged her feet to her room. Once she heard the ‘click’ of the door, 14 sat down on the couch and let out a long, heavy breath.

It was tradition for each age, each number to join the house (also called “HQ”), each year on March 28. The oldest age is always designated as the “leader” or “parental figure”. 14 knew this day would come, and she hadn’t been ready for it until now. She set down all the bags that weighed at her shoulders and brought up a hand to rub at her shoulder blades.

——

Warm rays of light slowly trickled through the house, and the soft call of birds began to play. 14 yawned as they stretched their arms far above their head and a series of pops came from their back. It was the start of their first day at HQ. It was the beginning of a new life.

Her hand hovered over the door knob. A familiar, yet distant feeling of dread filled their mind. A sinking pit in 14’s gut that slowly slithered up their throat. They knew they weren’t ready for this. They knew this job wasn’t meant for them. But 14 only had one option. With a heavy sigh, they opened the door and stepped out.

Heading out of the room, 14 saw the rest of the girls sitting on the couch, their chatter echoing off the tall walls and creating a cacophony of sound.

When 14 stepped into the middle of the room, facing the long, navy couch, they felt all eyes on them. Beads of sweat collected on their forehead as the soft smiles and icy glares seemed to penetrate their soul. They opened their mouth and then closed it again—looking for the right words to say.

“Hello. I’m 14.”

Chapter Text

”Hello. I’m 14.”

13, seeming to pick up on the nervous tension throughout the room, quickly stood up and took over the conversation.

“I know you guys are still adjusting, but I wanted to introduce the new number—14. As you all know, now that she is here I will be stepping down and receiving my role. It is my hope that you all eventually warm up to them. Any questions?”

A sharp, smooth voice cut through the tense silence. And a fiery gaze stared down 14. 14 looked up and saw one of the numbers with long, almost black hair preparing to say something.

“Yeah I have a question. Why can’t you still be the leader?”

14 was caught off guard. The girl’s mahogany eyes and disinterested tone made their heart pound. They looked around, trying to find a way out of this. But the girl continued,

“I mean, we all know that you were good at your job. Not to mention, this new bitch seems like she has a stick up her ass.”

Silence. 14’s face heated up and she could feel a burning sensation cover her face. Her embarrassment caused her hands to tremble, so she shoved them in her pockets.

This seemed to embarrass 13, as she quickly tried to rectify the situation, despite a slight tremor in her voice.

“I’m so, so sorry for that. That is number 9. She takes a little bit to warm up to people and seems to think that she can just act however she wants to with no repercussions.”

The girl—number 9– just rolled her eyes and leaned back into the cushions.

Another girl caught 14’s attention. She was huddled into a corner, her skin pale and greasy, acne covered her face making it nearly impossible to see her actual skin, and her eyes had bags as dark as the midnight sky. Her gaze wasn’t focused, wasn’t staring at anything. She was just there. Just existing.

“Is she ok? The one in the corner.”

13 opened her mouth to explain, a look of pity on her face.

“That’s 10. The problem with her is—“

“What do you mean problem?” 9’s sharp voice cut through 13’s explanation like a dagger. For a second, her hands were clenched by her sides, shaking with rage.

At this point, 9’s whole body began to tremble and her breath grew heavy. It was as if her body was too small to contain the fury that she felt.

“Don’t talk about her like that. If anyone has a problem, it’s you— trying to ‘fix’ all of us. Well guess what? We. Don’t. Need. Your. Help.”

13 stopped. Stared. She bit her lip as her eyes began to water, and if anyone was listening closely, they could hear a small gasp leave her throat. It looked like she was going to say something, but she cut herself off. Taking a deep breath she avoided 9’s gaze entirely.

Just before 14 tried to defuse the situation, 9 shot up from her spot, grabbed 10 by the arms and stormed off into another section of the house. 14 could only watch them leave.

Just as 9 and 10 left, 13’s reaction twisted.

“Of course. Of course it’s those two making a scene.”

13’s voice was hollow. Empty. It scared 14, chilling them to the bone. 13 seemed cold, but 14 could tell that her hands were shaking. Then 13 spoke in a cold, harsh tone.

“Well?” Her bitterness faltered a bit, and it was clear that she was getting upset. However that was soon replaced by the same bitter, hollow tone. “I think it’s time for you to further introduce yourself because apparently, I think everyone has a problem.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. Then, without warning she turned to her room, shutting the door with a click.

14 turned to look at the girls, and before she could get a word out, a bright, cheery voice cut through.

“Sorry about that! Let me introduce you to the rest of the girls! I’m number 11.”

Even though 11 seemed joyful, her smile was too big— too happy. However she must have noticed 14’s expression, because her face paled and she quickly continued.

“This is number 4. She is the youngest of us.”

11 pointed to the preschooler who was bouncing in another girl's lap. Her little hands kept clenching and unclenching, as if she were anticipating something.

Her eyes were bigger than saucers, and they gleamed with a bright light. Her hair was in two long pigtails. They were so long in fact, that she was sitting on the ends of her hair. Her smile stretched across half her face. It was the kind of smile that had never known fear.

“Hi! I’m 4! Did you know that I’m the youngest?”

14 couldn’t help but giggle at 4’s bubbly personality. She gave a small smile before looking back to number 11.

“Hey! 14! Lemme introduce you to numbers 7 and 8! They don’t talk much, but they are practically the same person! I’ll tell ya’ you can never find them apart.”

There were two girls who sat side by side, hands clasped tightly together. Their movements mirrored each other. When one blinked, so did the other. They even breathed at the same time. Their clothes were identical, and their hair was in the same half-up-half-down style.

They looked at 14 in a matching stare.

11 seemed to pick up on 14’s uneasiness, because she began to speak in her same, overly-happy tone. She pointed to the girl holding 4 in her lap.

“This is 12! She’s really nice and I think—“

“11. Chill out, I can introduce myself.”

12 stretched her arms above her head, offering 14 a lazy, lopsided grin. “Anyways, I’m number 12. I’d say I’m the only person here who doesn’t have anything fucked up with them.”

12 let out a loud, hearty, belly laugh that echoed through the room and bounced off the walls. Her amusement wasn’t forced— it sounded genuine. And if 14 was being honest? She had to agree. Out of everyone she has met, 12 looks like the only one who wasn’t worried and wasn’t a preschooler.

Her hair curled slightly at the ends, and it gave her an effortlessly confident look. Hell, even her acne made her look confident. She didn’t seem worried about it.

11’s face burned a bright, electric red, she clenched her fists just like 13 and shifted her weight. She looked away from 12’s smug appearance.

“Anyway.” She huffed, trying to regain her composure. “Moving on.”

“This is number 5,” 11 spoke quickly, gesturing to a small girl sitting next to 7. She had a short bob cut, but looked just like number 4.

5 didn’t speak. She only gave a small wave and quickly glanced away from 14. Her fingers curled in slow, hesitant motion. Despite having the same bright round eyes as 4, her smile was smaller— like she was trying to hold something back.

Finally there was one girl left. She sat hunched over, staring right into 14’s deep chocolate eyes. There was something unsettling about the way she stared. It wasn’t quite a glare, but definitely not a friendly look either.

Before 11 could begin to introduce her, she spoke up.

“Hey. I’m number 6.” She tilted her head slightly, eyes never leaving 14’s. “I like to draw. And I like to play with others.”

The way she said it—play— sent a shiver down 14’s spine.

Chapter Text

14 began to wander around the house, looking through different rooms and halls. Eventually she came across a door with the number “9” written on it. Heart pounding with the memories of the past encounter, 14 knocked on the door hesitantly. A groan echoed through the door and it swung open. 9 had a frown etched on her face.

“What do you want?”

14 locked onto 9’s face first—the disinterested scowl, then the sharp stare that could cut through steel that made her want to shrink away. Her gaze drifted down.

Something small and sharp gleamed in 9’s hand. Silver. Sharp. Shiny. A dagger.

“Why do you have that?” the words tumbled out before 14 could even think about what she was saying.

“Are you really that dumb?” Her voice was dripping with judgement and she raised an eyebrow, but continued, flipping the dagger lazily to point it at 14, “I have weapons because of my role. I’m kind of like the badass who fights people who mess with us. I’m a protector.” She leaned against the doorframe, unimpressed.

Protector? 14 was unsettled at the thought. A kid using knives and maces? They weren’t sure which freaked them out more— the fact that 9 seemed confident or the way that 9 seemed to believe what she was saying.

14 took a deep breath as she leaned her head into 9’s room. Everywhere she looked, there was some form of weapon. From knives to guns to even a couple of axes, she had it all. And a cold chill crept down her spine.

The interaction got 14 thinking, If 9’s role was to “protect”, then what were the other roles?

9 seemed to pick up on 14’s confusion, because she began to explain.

“It’s really not that hard—“ 9 cut herself off to throw the dagger into a homemade target—“ to figure out who does what here. You just need to know their personalities—“ she grabbed another, larger knife off of her nightstand—“how they act—“ she threw it full force and it hit the center of another practice target— “and what they like to do. Figure that out, and you’ll know exactly where they stand.”

Before 14 could respond—before they could ask more questions— 9 shoved back 14 so hard that they had to catch themself on the doorframe.

A loud, booming, bang echoed through the hall as the door slammed shut. For a moment, 14 stood there heart pounding and mind racing. They just stood there staring at the big wooden door, thinking that if they stared hard enough, they could cut a hole through the door and force 9 to explain.

“Fine,” 14 muttered, rubbing their shoulder. “I guess I’ll talk to the other numbers.”

——

The door to 4’s room was colorful and covered in stickers. 14 gingerly knocked on the door and giggled as a small “hold on!” Came from inside. The door slowly creaked open and 4’s small frame looked up at 14 with glee.

“Hi! Do you want to come inside? I’ll let you see all my stuffed animals!”

The atmosphere of 4’s room was the polar opposite of number 9. Gone were the rows of weapons and targets. Instead, there was softness.
The walls were a pastel pink, and stuffed animals were all over the floor. There was a distinct smell of fabric softener and the walls were littered with stickers.

Just before she took another step, something soft and tiny rolled under her foot. There was barely any time to process it before 14’s body came crashing to the floor. The near-impact sent a shock of pain through her body, arms catching herself. Her cheek nearly smacked into the face of a stuffed bear. 4 let out a small gasp and rushed forward, hugging onto 14’s body.

“Are you ok?” Her voice quivered and her lips trembled, but she picked up the stuffed animal and began to apologize. “I’m so sorry! This is Sizzles, I don’t know why he did that. I’m sorry.”

Sizzles was a brown dog with poorly stitched up holes. Its beady eyes looked at 14.

“It’s alright, I’m fine 4. I’m ok, I promise.” 14 tried to soothe the preschooler, so she hugged the 4-year-old tight.

Eventually 4 calmed down and 14 spoke up yet again.

“Can I ask you a question?” 4 nodded eagerly, her attention solely focused on 14. 14 glanced at the plush covered floor and the sticker-covered walls. “What’s your role here?”

4 thought for a moment, clutching sizzles to her chest. “I think I’m supposed to make people feel happy! When someone is upset, I give them one of my toys until they are happy again.” 4 picked up another plushie— a tiny lamb with limbs that were barely connected— “sometimes I see things too. Like when 13 cries to me for no reason, and I give her a hug, or when 10 seems ok but I know she’s not, so I just sit with her until she’s alright.”

14 was speechless. They didn’t know how to respond—the words simply wouldn’t come out of their mouth. Their throat tightened. How could a child say something so complex, so intuitive, in such a simple way? How could 4 understand something that 14 still couldn’t? 14 turned to 4, and 4’s small voice continued.

“You should go visit some of the other numbers! I think they would love you as much as I do!”

14 gave a small, warm smile and got up. “Y’know what? Sure I will. Have fun 4!” And with that, 14 left 4’s room with a mixture of unease and new understanding.

14 left her room, but 4’s words still stuck with her. “I think they would love you as much as I do!” Love. Were they even close enough to earn that?

Shaking off that thought, it was time to visit numbers 7 and 8.

——

14 walked towards the light grey door and just before her fingers could rap on the door, it swung open.

Two pairs of chocolate eyes bore into 14.

“Hello.”

“We knew you’d be coming—“

“—Take a seat.”

The girls spoke in turns. Their voices had no emotion. And that sent chills down 14’s spine.

Stepping inside, 14 saw a mirrored room. The walls were painted a deep grey and it had two wardrobes. In fact, all the furniture was in pairs of two. There were two beds pushed next to each other, separated by one nightstand. One bed had sheets sprawled over the mattress, and piles of paper were scattered across. In the other bed, the sheets were tucked tightly into the bed and the pillows looked to be carefully arranged. Across from the nightstand sat a tall, standup mirror. Pink and purple sticky notes were littered throughout the room. One single loveseat was next to a window— an open invitation to sit down.

The moment 14 sat down, the numbers began to speak.

“Hello.”

“I am 7, and this is—“

“—8.”

“We aren’t twins”

“But we are alike.”

“We are not the same.”

The numbers ended their introduction in unison. The air felt tight and tense, like something was about to happen. Looking around again, 14 saw a pink sticky note next to a bright purple sticky note. The notes read:

Hey 7, make sure that 10 walks around the house for a bit. She hasn’t been leaving her room recently.

Will do. Also, have you noticed 9? She’s been different recently. More angry, more violent. Can you make sure she has 4 nearby to calm her down?

7 and 8 followed 14’s gaze and froze. 7– or was it 8– quickly took down the notes.

“We know you’re curious, but you will find our role when the time comes.”

“For now, we advise that you—“

“Visit number 12.”

Even after the door was shut in her face, 14 couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. The hallway was empty, but she could feel the lingering gaze of 7 and 8. She quickly made her way to 12’s room.

——

14 arrived at 12’s door and heard music echoing through the doors. The moment she knocked however— the music cut off and footsteps hurried towards the door.

“Hey what’s up? Wanna come inside?”

Inside the room, there were fairy lights lining the peach walls. The room was messy, but in a way that made it seem intentional. There were posters of different bands and music composers, and an instrument case stood in the corner. On 12’s desk sat an open anatomy book, and the header read: Bone anatomy. Above her desk sat a board filled with little hand-drawn diagrams of the human body. It was clear she had an obsession.

14 grazed their hand over one of the unfinished diagrams labeled: heart. “Did you draw this? It’s really impressive,” they asked, glancing over at 12.

12 gave a cocky smile. “Thanks, yeah I did. I know I don’t seem like the type, but I adore science—especially biology.”

14 blinked, she was caught off guard. She had thought that there would be loud, raging music, not carefully drawn diagrams of the brain and detailed art of neurons. The intensity of 12’s voice was almost contagious.

“Here’s my favorite fun fact: did you know that your brain can generate enough electricity to power a small lightbulb? I think it’s pretty badass to be honest.”

14 let out a laugh at 12’s enthusiasm. 12 continued her tour while flopping down onto her messy, unmade bed.

“Well anyways, welcome to my lair—where organized chaos meets academic obsession and also… y’know, lesbians.”

14 huffed out a laugh, “yeah, I’m definitely getting that vibe.”

“Good, because if my room didn’t scream it, then my flag—“ she gestured over to the giant pride flag hung on her wall—“or my playlists will.”

14 nodded and gingerly sat down on a bean bag, and opened her mouth to talk when—

“12… I may have accidentally… done something to myself. Can you fix it?”

Number 11 shuffled in, holding her hand in a towel. Blood was seeping through it. She looked sheepish, like she was ashamed to be there—to ask for help. Number 12 quickly got up and reached under her desk. She pulled out a dusty first aid kit and quickly retrieved a gauze pad and unwrapped the towel. Blood began to gush out of the wound and 12 began to press the gauze onto her hand—hard.

As 12 was fixing 11’s wound, 12 began to hiss. For a moment, she dropped her gaze as a pool of red emerged from the same hand that 11 had hurt. The exact cut that had been on 11’s palm moments ago revealed itself on 12’s hand. She simply rolled her eyes before she flexed her palm, gritting her teeth as blood welled up. She casted her gaze back to 11. 14’s eyes began to water as their own hand stung, a familiar red gash appeared on her hand. 14 looked at their hand—then at 12 who began to treat 11’s injury.

After a while, 11’s bleeding slowed and 12 rubbed antiseptic and then Neosporin around the lesion. She looked calm while doing this, almost like she was in her element. Finally, she grabbed some blue medical tape to tightly wrap around the wound. 12 then did the same to her own hand.

“So, what happened?” 12 finally asked after a few moments of silence.

“I was leaning against 9’s wall and I accidentally brought my hand down. It sliced open my hand pretty bad on one of her blades.”

“No kidding. You’ll be fine, but come back to me if it hurts more— or has pus.”

And with that, 11 walked out of the room. 14 looked at 12 expectedly.

“Oh, yeah. I should've told you about my role. I’m kind of the ‘doctor’ around here. As you already know, it’s hard to get medical care when the rest of the world is… poofed.”

And yeah, 12 had a point. The only people left on Earth were the people in HQ. So this means that there weren’t any doctors to help when things go south. 14 down at the floor and saw a pile of papers that read:

steps to administer IV

How to properly treat a broken bone

Signs of infection— wound edition

It made 14 wonder, how long has 12 had to carry the burden of “doctor”? Before 14 could ask, 12 sighed and sank into her bed. 14 turned to 12, who had crept towards her with an array of medical supplies. Finally, 14 asked the question that had been on her mind since the cut.

“Why did we all get the same cut as 11? I didn’t touch any blades.”

12 seemed confused for a moment, but her expression soon shifted into recognition.

“Oh—you don’t know? Numbers share injuries. For instance—“ 12 trailed off as she focused on rubbing an ointment into 14’s hand. “If 11 gets a scrape on her knee, then 13, you, and I all get the same wound. It’s kinda like a domino effect.”

14 scrunched their eyebrows as they thought about it. Flurries of questions were flying through their mind but none of them were spoken. 12 sighed as she slowly got up.

“Anyways, you should probably go, I’m getting tired and am probably gonna take a nap.”

14 nodded and got up. She looked around one last time before stepping out. Who knew that 12 was so smart?

——

The next room that 14 went to was number 6.

As she tapped the door, 6 yelled “door’s unlocked!” With a hint of impatience, 14 opened it and stepped inside. The moment she walked in, she was immediately bombarded with dizzying and bright colors. The room was overflowing with things. A wardrobe that was filled to the brim, shoes scattered along the floor. Clothes laid out on her bed, and posters of influencers covered her walls. Loud pop music sounded throughout her room, making it sound and look like one of those music venues where the people were always “on.”

6 sat on her bed, looking around with a bored expression.

“Hey 6, how are you?”

Her eyes narrowed as she focused on 14. “Cut to the chase, 14.”

14’s eyes widened in surprise. 6’s bluntness caught them off guard. “Okay, alright, what’s your role?”

6 stayed silent for a while. She leaned back on her hands, cocking her head like she couldn’t be more inconvenienced to think about it. The glaring neon sign seemed to reflect the slight edge in her gaze.

“I dunno, really.” She started, seeming unimpressed. “I guess I just make sure people don’t get too heated with each other. It’s not that hard. All I do is separate them, and then agree with them in private. Easy.”

Her tone made it sound like her role was beneath her. 14 couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to her role than just being a “mediator” but they didn’t push. Behind 6, a pile of baggy jeans, a pastel yellow T-shirt, and some well-worn black Converse shoes were neatly folded. However it was clear that her wardrobe meant as much to her as image as it did comfort.

6 clearly didn’t want to elaborate, and the air turned thick and tense with unspoken comments— like the weight of pretending to care, when you really just don’t want to get involved.

Finally, 6 pointed to the door. “Out. Now. I have more important things to do and I don’t need you here.”

14 sighed, and turned towards the door. She knew better than to bother 6 when it was clear that she just wanted to be left alone.

——

11’s door was open and 11 had her back turned. Her room was cleaned and minimalistic. It had a monochromatic feel, minus the colorful notebooks and planners that sat atop her desk. The room was almost too clean. The shelves had books organized by size and color. The smell of lavender and fresh paper lingered through the small room. Her desk was perfectly organized, everything had a special place. There was a calming atmosphere, a sharp contrast to 11’s whirlwind energy. 14 walked in and stood in the middle of the room. She cleared her throat.

“Oh! Hi 14. Do you need anything? Any help? Food? Water? A tour?” 11’s questions overwhelmed 14 as she struggled to get a word in.

14 raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the flurry of questions 11 had already asked. The energy in the room was so different from the other ones she’d been in—there was a sense of control and order, but it was also…frantic in a way. 11 seemed so desperate to talk.

“Oh sorry! Do you need another tool? Or a map of the HQ? Speaking of— I just made an updated schedule! Oh and that reminds me—“

“—Uh, no actually. Hey 11, what’s your role?” They asked, trying to regain focus. They also wanted to ask about 11’s tightly wrapped hand from earlier, but 11 hid her hand as soon as 14 laid eyes on it.

“I’m the assistant. It’s a pretty special job—really.” 11 paused, her eyes flickering to an old photo that sat on her bedside, “When I was the leader, I did a good enough job that the numbers thought I’d be great at helping out. But… yeah, it’s a tad different now. I kind of miss having the same authority that I used to have, you know? But I guess it’s alright.” She shrugged, trying to mask the way her voice wavered. “I manage the logistics of the leader—keeping track of schedules and offering advice when needed, but it’s primarily for making sure that nothing gets forgotten.”

11 paused, eyes narrowing as she studied 14.

“Speaking of roles,” 11 started as she folded her arms,” how are you handling your role?”

14 opened her mouth—then closed it again. Finally, they began to speak, “I don’t really know what my role is.”

11 raised an eyebrow, and then began to speak in a sharp, calculated tone. “I see. Well, if you need any advice or help, that’s my kind of thing.” She offered a small smile but there was something colder behind it.

As 14 stepped out of the room, she felt like she had just left an interview. 11’s words were as sweet as honey, but something about the way she studied 14 left her uneasy. It was as if she was waiting for 14 to fail.

——

The door to 13’s room was plain. The only thing indicating that it was even her room was the messily scribbled “13” on her door. She knocked and waited for a while.

Finally, 13 opened the door, headphones blasting music. Stepping inside the room, 14 was overwhelmed with suffocating plum purple walls that felt heavy and empty drawers made it feel hollow. Her desk only had a few papers scattered across the top. The air carried the faint aroma of coffee and old papers. One lamp lit up the entire room, and a picture sat on her bedside table. 14 was hit with a contradiction: the room was both messy and hollow at the same time. 13 cleared her throat, making 14 focus on her.

14 looked at 13’s hand. They had expected to see another blue bandage but there was nothing there except for a big bandaid. 14’s eyes narrowed—and 13 followed her gaze.

“Hey, do you need something?” 13 didn’t even wait for a response when she continued, clearly trying to avoid the subject of her hand, “Or are you just here to ask me about my role?”

“Wait, how did you—“

“7 and 8 told me.” The way she said it made it sound obvious. “They’re nosy like that.”

14 swallowed hard. There was something about the way 13 spoke—calm, factual, like she was always one step ahead of everyone else. It sent a sharp chill down her spine.

“Well. I won’t have it until the end of the week maybe. But if I had to guess, it would probably have something to do with my clarinet.” 13 gestured to the shiny, polished clarinet that sat next to a messy music stand. “I really love to play it, you know.”

13 walked back to her chair and grabbed the instrument. Her lips grazed the wooden reed and began to play. The moment the first note flowed out of the instrument the air shifted. The lilting melody of Lincolnshire Posy enveloped the room and each phrase rolled smoothly into the next. The warm, sweet sound of the clarinet wrapped around 14 like a second skin.

14 let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when the song ended

“Wow. That was really beautiful, 13. I didn’t know you could play like that.” 14’s voice was soft, like if they spoke any louder the calm and relaxed atmosphere of the room would crumble.

”Thanks, but it’s just music. I’m not a professional or anything.” 13 gripped her clarinet a little tighter. “I don’t get why my music is anything special.”

Just before 14 could respond, a quiet pair of footsteps came into the room.

Number 5 stood at the doorway, her eyes blown wide in awe and her mouth cracked open. 13’s eyes softened as a small, warm smile grew on her face.

“…that's a really good song, 13. You should play more often.” 5’s voice was barely audible, but it held emotion that caught 14 off guard.

“Will do, sweets. How about I play another song after dinner?” This offer seemed to excite 5, as her face lit up and she skipped out of the room.

14 began to look around the room, taking in each little detail. Something caught her eye.

Looking to her right, 14 caught the sight of a picture frame. A short girl with dyed, short hair and icy blue eyes stood next to 13, their hands clasped tightly together and a faint blush blanketed both their cheeks.

”Who’s that?” 13’s head snapped up. She caught 14’s gaze and her eyes softened. She let out an exhausted sigh.

“That was my ex. She was really kind and sweet. Man, I loved her to bits and pieces.” However her expression was replaced by a cold, hollow frown as her eyes narrowed.

“You should probably go. I have stuff to do and you need to visit the others. It was nice talking to you 14.” She glanced at the picture, and 13’s grip tightened around her clarinet. Her face was cold and void of any emotion.

As 14 headed out of the room, they felt an unusual mix of warmth and unease settle in their stomach.

The music had wrapped around them like a fuzzy blanket, and 5’s reaction had been just as unusual. They way 13 snapped…it left a hollowness in the air. Like a song had been cut off before the melody could finish. They headed to the next room: number 10.

——

10’s room was located at the end of the hall. By the time that 14 got there, the air had shifted into something darker.

The moment that 14 knocked, a dull voice yelled “what?” In an annoyed tone.

“Hey 10, I was just wondering if I could come in to talk—“

“Fine. But make it quick.”

The door creaked open to reveal a messy, dark room. Clothes were strewn across the floor and there were a couple of snack bowls sitting on a desk. The walls were so dark that It felt like they could suck out any positive emotions. 10 sat up in her messy bed—it looked like it hadn’t been made in a while. Her hair was tangled and her eyes looked dull. There was no light behind them.

“Hey, 10. You ok?”

“I’m fine! What makes you think that I’m upset?” 10 flipped her expression like a lightswitch— to a wide, almost too happy smile. She looked like 11. Her smile never reached her eyes.

“Nothing, nothing.” 14 quickly looked around the room, desperate to change the subject. Their eyes caught onto an opened sketchbook. Inside was a messily drawn picture of the girls. 4’s face was bright and energetic, and she sat atop 12’s lap. 12 had a laid-back, smug expression, like she had just told a snarky joke. 11 and 13 sat side by side, engrossed in a thoughtful conversation. 7 and 8 stared directly forward, their eyes boring into the page. 14 shivered. Finally 9 had a stare that looked dangerous, but her body was calm—peaceful even. Every stroke of the pencil looked calculated and exact. Each expression was detailed and captured the emotions of the scene perfectly.

On the next page, there was only a picture of 9 and 10 sitting side by side. The linework was different. Instead of soft, smooth lines, rough and aggressive pen strokes made the art look frantic. 9 looked angry, her fists were clenched and her jaw was clenched. Little drops of blood fell from her hands. Number 10 looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks. Her cheeks were sunken in and her posture was hunched over. She was trying to make herself smaller.

“These are some really good drawings 10,” 14 glanced at 10, who began to fidget with the drawstrings of her hoodie.

“Yeah, whatever. I hate them anyway.” 10’s gaze flicked for a moment, and 14 felt uneasy. What is 10 hiding?

14 began to speak, but quickly got cut off.

“Hey 10–“

“—if you’re curious, my role is to draw I guess. But I don’t think it’s that important.” 10 closed her eyes and let out a sigh, but continued. “I use my art to connect. For instance, when 9 gets upset with someone, probably 6, I show her a portrait of 9 chatting with her to remind her of the good times.” 10 kept talking. “But nobody gets it. 9 sees my portraits as a bunch of lines, and 6 only worries about how I ‘need to get her good side’. My art is like a language that nobody else understands.”

14 suddenly felt remorse. How many times had 10 painted a scene, just for the other numbers to ignore her? How isolated was 10? 14 began to look for clues—little details that could tell her more about the girl who sat in bed.

14’s hand traced over a small, pocket-sized sketchbook with a small leather strap holding it closed. She reached for it and 10’a voice cut in— sharp and powerful.

“Don’t touch that.” 10’s tone was harsher and sharper than 14 had ever heard before. It shook 14 to their core.

14 couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out of her mouth.

“What’s your problem? Why are you so upset with me? I’m just trying to be nice.” The words came with a bitter aftertaste, and a sinking feeling. 14 felt their face heat up, and tears pricked as they took a deep breath.

10 stopped. Stared. For a moment, 10’s expression looked calm, but then she erupted into a hurricane of emotions. Her jaw tightened and her fingers curled into fists. Finally she spoke. “Why does everyone think I have a problem? What the hell did I do? Huh? This is why I don’t talk to you guys!” She lifted herself out of bed and got up in 14’s face. “Maybe the reason I’m being so ‘mean’ is because you’re not a good leader! You know, everyone can tell that you’re completely clueless. Leave my room. Now.”

14 opened her mouth to say something, but guilt wouldn’t let her get any words out. Her gaze lingered on 10 and she tried to apologize.

“10, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that— I don’t know why I said that.”

10 frowned. She looked tired and hurt. It looked like she wanted to tell 14 exactly how she felt, but didn’t know how to. 14 could tell she was hurt, but didn’t push. They already knew that they had said too much.

14 looked back at the closed door and hesitated. They wanted to go back in, to redo the entire interaction so 10 wouldn’t be mad. Instead, they let themself stare at the door before heading down the hall.

——

5’s room had small, purple accents surrounding the door. Inside, 14 could hear the sounds of 5 playing. They knocked on the door, and the playing stopped immediately.

5 opened the door with a warm smile and gestured for 14 to come inside.

The room had journals that piled on top of a smooth, wooden desk. Bookshelves were lined with different books ranging from short novellas and other works of literature to basic, 5-page picture books. Above her bed, there was a large cork board that held photos, drawings and sticky notes. 14 carefully stepped closer, curiously peering at the wall. At the top of the board, there were pictures of all the numbers. By the looks of it, they hadn’t changed at all. 12 had a smug look on her face, 9 looked at the camera with a dangerous glare, and 4’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. Below, there were drawings that looked oddly familiar. Upon closer examination, 14 saw 10’s signatures scribbled on the paper. A few sticky notes—pink and purple— stuck to the edges of the board. 7 and 8’s handwriting immediately caught their eye.

In messy, hardly legible handwriting, one dramatic, chaotic note read—

“I’m serious. Stop writing ever. Single. Word I say, 5”

7’s handwriting was nothing compared to 8. In neat, loopy cursive, 8 wrote—

“Thank you so much for remembering us, 5. You have no idea how much you help us.”

The note gave 14 a warm, gentle feeling that settled in her chest, like warm tea on a rainy day. But that fuzzy feeling morphed into something else—something colder and heavier. A strange ache began to stir in her ribs.

These little notes—these scribbles and drawings— weren't just decorative.

They were memories that someone had taken the time to capture.

They turned towards 5, a soft smile on their face.

5 sat cross-legged on the plush carpet with a small chapter book in her hands. She looked content—peaceful almost. 5 looked up with a gaze that wasn’t cold or mean. Just patient.

”You…keep track of all this?”

14’s voice was airy and quiet.

5 offered a shy nod.

“I try to. It’s hard to keep track sometimes when every number is so different. It’s important to remember the good times. It’s important to remember that we’re people, we’re more than our roles.”

A big, hard, lump settled in 14’s throat.

“Do you keep track of me?”

She hated the way her voice pitched up as she spoke. She took a deep breath before looking around again.

“Of course I do. You’re one of us, even if some of us don’t show it, we care.”

The words were spoken so simply—so plainly. It was as if it was obvious. Tears pricked at 14’s eyes as they darted around the room.

“Oh—uh thanks. You’re really sweet you know. I should probably get going, but I’ll see you around.”

14 tried to smile—tried to hide the quiver in her voice— but 5’s face softened.

“It’s ok to cry 14. I’ve seen and heard how stressful being a leader is.”

Her voice was soft and uncharacteristically mature. While the warmth of her words wrapped around her, a slight unease tickled 14’s gut.

The moment 5’s door clicked shut, 14 let out a breath. Everyone in this house—HQ— was so, so strange.

Chapter Text

It was late—probably around 10:00 when 14 finished exploring the HQ. Who knew a building so small could seem endless from inside?

There was one final room that had yet to be opened. Its white, plain door didn’t have a single spec of dust. 14’s hand gently wrapped around the door handle. Something felt off. Wrong. The round door knob was nearly freezing—yet the rest of the house was warm.

The silence in the room was quiet, but not peaceful. It felt paused, like the room was waiting for something.

In the middle of the room sat 14’s sleek purple suitcase with a small note hanging off of a string.

Hey there! This is your room—decorate however you see fit and feel free to go outside and find stuff there too! (Furniture from stores, plants, stuff like that :) ). We are truly honored to have you as a leader! Hope you like this room more than the guest room you’ve been in
-13

14 sat on the hardwood and put her hands on the cool wooden floor. Plain walls, bland floors…and an infinite amount of room for opportunity. A smile grew on her face.

——

The first thing 14 did was open the windows to let in some air—let in some life.

Every morning light would trickle in and paint the room in the sun’s faint rays.

Every morning birds would chirp their songs and trees would rustle their leaves. It was a morning ritual for 14.

——

The next thing 14 added was the big, chunky anatomy textbooks to her desk. She wanted to help 12 with anatomy—after all 14 had always had an interest in the human body. Highlights and annotations covered each page like the doodles in her new sketchbooks

Pale lavender shelves held sketchbooks from when she was younger. Each one held memories— versions of her that she could barely remember.

Pencils and fountain pens messied the desk, and small papers with written lines of poetry sat atop the empty spaces of the desk.

——

The next day, 12 knocked on the door holding something behind her hands. A goofy grin lit up her eyes.

In her hands was a small lamp—a mushroom that’s cap lit up when you turned it on.

“You needed something to make your room a little less…boring”

12 laughed—like she found herself funny.

——

It took a week before 14 got their next piece of decor— a sketch made by 10.

It was a messily drawn portrait of 14 chatting with 12, laughing so hard tears fell from her eyes.

14 smiled and when they looked up, 10 had vanished.

——

The next morning, 14 stepped out and saw two sticky notes on the door— one pink one purple. 7 and 8.

On the pink sticky note read:

We like your room, 14–

And on the purple sticky note continued:

Looks good boss

Despite the kind hearted letters, 14 could’ve sworn she felt eyes boring into her spine.

Chapter Text

It had taken what seemed like forever to get the room set up— and even then it still didn’t feel like them.

The walls still reflected the sunlight, casting a soft yet constant glow each day.

There was something missing in the room, a distinct lack of something that made the room seem not quite finished yet. Maybe she’d know it when she found it.

——

It had been a month since 14 had moved to the HQ. Since then, things have… changed. Things have fallen into a routine.

Every morning they wake up to 11 cooking breakfast— some eggs and toast. She claims it’s because she cares. But 14 notices the way her shoulders relax when the eggs start to sizzle.

4 wakes up next. Whether it’s from pure energy or uncontrollable excitement for the next day, the world may never know.

Eventually, more of the girls stroll in at the same time. There is a rare moment of silence for 12. It’s the kind of silence where she doesn’t need jokes to make her presence visible, she’s just there.

9 has that permanent glare carved into her face, yet no words left her mouth.

7 and 8 wake up to an alarm, and quietly tiptoe into the kitchen. Their footsteps are in unison.

5 comes in, looking like she had been up for a while. She always answers with the same “I’ve been playing before I left my room” every day. 14 always wonders what game it is. They never hear any sort of playing.

6 wakes up much, much later. Her hair is perfectly combed, outfit lacking wrinkles or imperfections. She wakes up looking ready for a camera.

10… doesn’t leave her room much. 14’s noticed the small things. How her door always stays locked, how she rarely leaves. How she either eats like it’s the last day on earth or nothing gets on her plate. She’s an enigma.

This morning 14 wakes up to the sound of nothing—a tense air drifts throughout the room. The HQ is cold, and 14 feels her ears start to ring. She gets up quick with the feeling of dread and unease pooling in her gut.

Once 14 steps out of the room, 11 isn’t standing in the kitchen like she normally does. Instead, she is draped across the couch, reading a book that 14 has seen sitting on 5’s desk. The book’s cover reads: The Fights of Us Both.

14 cleared her throat. 11’s hand stilled. She looked up. Her gaze narrowed. 11’s hands quickly shut the book with a force so strong that the sound echoed throughout the house.

“Hey, 11. What book are you reading?”

“A book. It’s about this group of people who live together, grow together, and fight against the world together. It’s interesting. You’d like it—is anyone else up?”

11’s voice was tired. She sounded so robotic—so different. Something about the book seemed odd. It made 14’s stomach churn as their face paled. Their hands shook lightly at their sides as anxiety sat in their chest.

“…not that I know of. Is something wrong, 11?”

“Nothing is wrong. I’ll explain when some of the others get up. Just stay here, 14.”

Chapter Text

14’s body trembled slightly as the cold from earlier traveled through her body. 11 was hiding something deeper, but she still covered it up with smiles and plans. This was colder, something hidden. This was something that eerily reminded 14 of 10.

Speaking of; 10, 13, 6, and 12 all walked out into the living room—they all had the same tired look on their faces. 14 felt a shiver run up their spine.

They all sat down, one by one to face 14. Pairs of eyes all set on 14 as the silence grew deafening. Despite their cool demeanors, 14 could see the inconsistencies. Like how 10’s eyes kept flitting around the room, how 13 was quiet— not in the way she normally was. 14 saw how 6 was wearing a different outfit. Instead, she wore a wrinkled T-shirt and athletic shorts that had tears at the edges. 12 looked a little too relaxed, like she was trying to force herself to be calm. Something about their appearance made 14 stiffen and blood rushed up to her ears. She was scared.

“So, what’s this all about?”

14 finally spoke with a slight tremor in their voice. 13 spoke up.

“Outside, to town. We’re going somewhere. For a mission.”

14’s mind spiraled. What was that supposed to mean? Why did 13 have to be so vague? Had the “outside” code for something that she missed? Before she could stop herself, words spewed out her mouth.

“What do you mean? I’ve seen you guys go out, hell, even I’ve been on the patio before. Why’s it such a big deal?”

14’s confusion must have been obvious, because 6 snapped her vacant stare to 14.

“There’s more to the world than just us— how do you not know this?”

6 spoke up with a fiery tone that mimicked 9. Before 14 could begin to speak—begin to question further— 6’s voice cut through again

“We’re gonna take you on a mission with us— 13,10,12, and me. No big deal, you’ll be safe.”

6 spoke quickly, like she wanted to get the conversation over with. 14 looked at the floor, trying to avoid the eyes that pierced her body like needles.

Safe from what? The comment got 14 thinking. She couldn’t think of anything dangerous. She shivered as her mind ran through scenarios: death, injury, destruction. 10 began to talk.

“Oh— uh before you like, I don’t know, start worrying, the missions aren’t really dangerous.”

14 jumped. The only time they had heard 10’s voice was through a closed door. What 10 said wasn’t comforting most days.

“Well, I think we’ve had plenty of time to talk about this, 14. The group will be with you while I stay at home. Have fun, be safe!”

11 spoke quickly— harshly. 14 needed to figure out what was wrong with 11. She needed to find out why 11 and 10’s personalities seemed to switch.

The morning slowly dripped by like syrup and 14’s mind couldn’t help but wander. What could they mean? What else is out there if the numbers are supposed to be the only ones left?

A rock hard pit of anxiety formed in 14’s gut as breakfast ended and the rest of the numbers came out of their rooms. They all seemed understanding—their words carried a weight of good luck that 14 hadn’t heard before.

Chapter Text

The air of the outdoors was cool and crisp—a slow yet sharp breeze combed through 14’s hair. Vague memories began to pop up—memories of a younger child pretending the wind would whisper to her if she listened hard enough, memories of wanting to control the wind.

13 took fast, long strides and was well ahead of the group. She looked lost in her own world, muttering to herself. When 14 strained their ears to listen, they could only make out fragments of a one sided conversation.

12 walked with a pep in her step—well, more of a bounce but the energy radiated off of her. She walked next to 14, trying to make small talk. Even though 14 tried to follow along, she would always end up spacing out midway through her story and not know how to respond.

Behind 14, 10 kept her head down. She looked around, her eyes tired and glossy. Her hair was tangled and she wore the same hoodie she always did—a Minnie Mouse hoodie with mouse ears attached. Her shoulders hunched when 14 stared too long.

6 walked on the street, boots hitting the ground and echoing across the empty street. A glare that could melt through steel was stuck on her face. Eventually she would begin to walk so fast that she would stop, whip around, and wait with an impatient stare until the others caught up.

——

By the time the group was able to make it to their destination—a city plaza with shops littered around a lonely fountain— the sun was high in the sky. Smells of death and mildew filled the air. The buildings looked normal—if you ignored the overgrown vines and smashed bricks. 6 eventually spoke up.

“I’m so hungry!”

She dragged out the ‘y’ sound and for a moment, she didn’t sound like an angsty teenager, she sounded her age—6. 13 groaned.

“I know. You’ve been complaining this whole trip. Now that we’re here, we can find something to eat.”

14 wished she could have said that, wished she could have at least thought to say that—but as always, she couldn’t. She was deep in her head—deep in her scenarios— when her stomach rumbled. Her face quickly flushed a crimson red. She spoke quickly as she tried to take control of the situation—tried to be a leader.

“Yep! Great idea. Let’s go get food, what are we thinking?”

14 hated how they felt like they were always catching up to the conversation. Their eyes darted around the plaza, searching for food. A run-down cafe soon caught their attention.

The windows of the quaint building were shattered and cracked. Chairs and tables were scattered across the patio, making the main door nearly impossible to get to. The closer that 14 got, the more their gut screamed at them to stay away. But 14 chose not to listen, chose to stay quiet.

Inside it was stuffy, yet hollow. Cramped, yet empty. Cozy, but at the same time off putting. One small yellow lamp flickered, and a buzzing sound danced throughout the room. The rancid smell of rotten food coated the front of the cafe and a centipede wriggled in front of the cash register. This time—10 let out a sigh.

“Do we really have to eat here? It doesn’t look all that…good.”

Her voice was hesitant, but to anyone listening hard enough you could hear the disgust loud and clear. 13 was frustrated, and she spoke loudly.

“Yes, 10. Will you quit complaining? We are all hungry and not in the mood for complaints—“
She snapped her head to look at 14 “—even 14 agrees.”

“Well— I think we should just get something to eat. If you don’t want to eat here, fine. But we are all tired and—“

“Seriously 13? Really? Are you actually going to play that card? Don’t you realize that I’ve been basically silent this whole time? Then you get after me for ‘complaining’—“

14 couldn’t hear the rest of it. She let her mind drift off into the depths of her daydreams as the fighting soon began to crescendo. She finally snapped out when—

“And you seriously wonder why everybody in HQ treats you differently, 10?—“ she paused, letting her anger fester before she continued—“It’s because you weird us all out! Every time you speak it feels like nails against a chalkboard. Your emotions get in the way of everything you do and it’s the reason you give us so many problems.”

14 didn’t know what to say. Shame simmered behind their eyes and they turned to 10. 10 was pale, shaky, and her eyes painted a picture of heartbreak. The reaction only made 14 feel worse. The guilt of not stepping in sooner consumed them.

By the end of that monologue, 13 was panting, her cheeks red and her body shaking. She looked like 9 when 14 first met her. After all, the only difference between 13 and 9 is the fact that 13 is able to control herself—to an extent.

Just as 14 was going to defuse the situation, 13 stormed out of the cafe. 12—who was oddly quiet, quickly got up and followed after her. Just before she got up however, she gave 14 a quick glance that said, ‘I’m sorry but I have to do this.’

“Sorry. I just want to make sure she has someone to talk with—actually maybe she doesn’t. Nevermind.”

12 had been off the whole day. Come to think of it, 14 had been noticing how the number’s personalities seemed to…switch. 12 acted like 11. Normally, she was so calm it was as if nothing could bother her. Now, she stood stiff-backed and constantly looked to 14 for approval. 13 has been acting more like 9, her aggressive side being harder and harder to cover up after each inconvenience. Why was everyone switching? Was something wrong with her? With all of them?

The atmosphere held a tense, thick silence that infected 14’s brain. She looked around, trying to remedy the situation.

“So…”

14’s eyes darted around as they tried to find an excuse to keep talking.

“Do you guys still want to eat here? We can go somewhere else—only if you want to of course!”

They hoped that 6 and 10 couldn’t see past their obvious desperation. Luckily, 6 took the awkward silence as an opportunity.

“Y’know what? It’s fine. I’m not even that hungry anymore—just mad.”

“And rightfully so, let’s go get 13 and—“

“Let 6 get them, 14. She knows how to handle it.”

10 stared into 14’s dark eyes with understanding and something deeper—something that irked 14. The feeling clung to 14’s ribs like a weight.

6 didn’t question it, something that she seemed to do often. 6 always manages to follow the rules while also pushing them as much as possible.

6 left without much word which left 14 and 10. 10 stood close to 14, trying to look as small as possible.

“Let’s go… where do you wanna go? I saw a couple shops that had some cute art supplies!”

Truth is, ever since 14 first saw 10’s art, she too had been consumed by the practice of sketching. An open, plain sketchbook sat on her desk, pages smudged with graphite and dogeared. It was always open and ready for whatever pencil strokes landed on the page—like a friend who never asked questions. 10 just smiled—soft, gentle, and warm. She nodded.

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

Chapter Text

The art supply store was small, plain, and almost invisible compared to the other big elaborate shops that lined the streets. The door was dusty and broken. Yet something compelled 14 to venture in. Just as their feet stepped inside, 14 was hit with the sudden smell of coffee and inspiration. The store was warmer than it should’ve been. The whole store seemed to hum with warmth, the space seemed to wait for them. 10 began to walk faster as she admired the walls of intact markers. There was something unusual in her eyes—awe, but also something that resembled grief. Like she’d been waiting her whole life for something this simple.

“I’ve always wanted this brand—“

10 cut herself off as she walked to the pencil shelves. She stopped. Looked up at 14. Smiled.

“These are really nice pencils. They’re just like the ones I use.”

It had been the most 10 had talked all day—the most she had ever talked. Alone, she flourished. And for the first time, 14 didn’t have to fill the silence.

——

The air outside of the art shop was crisp and cool. Clouds covered the sun and darkened the sky. It was like the scenes in movies where something was about to happen but you didn’t know what.

13,12, and 6 were still nowhere in sight. The streets looked even emptier than before when 6’s boots weren’t pounding against the concrete, when 12’s stories weren’t filling the silence, when 13’s directions weren’t providing a sense of safety and security.

10 and 14 walked past broken windows and ruined displays. A tapping noise echoed from a distant alleyway. The pair stopped to look at each other.

“Do you think that’s one of the numbers?”

10’s voice was soft, like if she spoke any louder something would happen. The tapping grew louder—sharper. 14’s chest began to tighten—like a boa was suffocating her chest.

14’s footsteps got faster. It was like something was calling her to the noise. The closer she got, the louder the tapping became, the more her heart pounded, and the more her fear crescendoed.

A soft hiss joined the tapping. It sounded like a purr, but wetter.

——

The alleyway was dirty and grimy. It had the rancid smell of death and trash embedded in the ground. A claw emerged from the corner, its body and footsteps landed with a ‘squelch’. Growls and snarls hummed near the dumpster.

14 began to step in—but 10 grabbed her hand, stopping her from moving.

“14. No. You and I don’t know what’s in there.”

14 couldn’t control her body. She couldn’t resist creeping towards the noise.

The monster lunged.

Chapter Text

An eyeless monster jumped out in front of her. Black goo seeped from its eyes like tar and landed on 14’s shoes. Talons wrapped around 14’s wrist, letting blood well on her arm. The air turned to ice as she stared at it.

Its jaw began to dislocate with a sickening crack and saliva poured from its ragged teeth. Its head twisted on a thin, bony neck as it stared into 14’s wide brown eyes.

It began to growl.

A scream ripped its way from 14’s throat as it began to stumble towards the pair of girls. 10 froze, then turned around and fled.

14 wanted to follow 10, but just as their feet left the ground sharp talons wrapped around their ankles and dug in. They fell on the ground—hard. They tried to crawl away—but that wasn’t fast enough. It pinned 14 down and its jaws stretched even more when—

“Holy shit—14–“

Pairs of footsteps pounded towards the monster and a loud, jarring sound erupted from the monster's back. It fell to the ground and 14 shot up, gasping for breath. Fear consumed her and the surroundings around her blurred. Warm tears dripped from her eyes.

Hands immediately grabbed 14’s shoulders and she flinched. But instead of the knife-like claws of the creature, soft fingers wrapped carefully around her back.

“14! Are you alright, it didn’t bite you did it? I knew I shouldn’t have left—“

Blinking away the teardrops from their eyes, 14 saw the group of girls huddled around her. 12 crouched in front of her, eyes wide and searching.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Did it bite you?”

Worry coated her voice as 14’s cheeks began to heat up. They muttered a small ’no’ before looking away. Tears stung their eyes.

“What was that?”

14’s voice still quivered, but she began to look around for another threat. There were no more claws and no more taps—instead they were replaced with huddled figures and frantic voices. 13, who had been oddly quiet, snapped. Her voice ripped through the foggy haze that had clouded 14’s mind.

“Those are maws. We told you there were things out there that wanted us dead. At least you haven’t been bitten—that would’ve made this situation worse.” 13 slowly turned her head to 10 with a sharp glare…” and 10. Why did you think that it was ok to leave 14? Are you that fucking stupid? Don’t run away to get us—help 14!”

By the end of 13’s rant, she was panting and veins peeked out of her temple. Beads of sweat collected on her hairline and 10’s eyes widened. 10’s face was a stark contrast; pale skin and a shivering body. Her mouth hung open, then quickly shut. 14’s heart pounded against her chest as she watched the two girls fight.

“13. 10. Let’s just go. I’m ok, and so is everyone else—plus it’s getting cold out.”

The group turned to look at 14. Throughout their stay at the HQ, no one had reprimanded 13. Despite the fact that she wasn’t even the leader any more, nobody tried to stop her rage-fueled attacks. 12’s mouth hung open and a gasp escaped her throat. Her eyes darted around as her body visibly tensed. 6’s eyes snapped up—briefly showcasing her fear before hardening into her usual glare. She quickly ducked behind 10. 14 saw how she seemed to be anticipating something. 10’s breaths came out in short, sharp inhales as she slowly backed away from 13. Her eyes were clouded over with a flurry of emotions. Finally, 13 clenched her jaw, breathing heavily out of her mouth. Her eyes twitched as she redirected her gaze to 14 before she began to speak.

“Don’t, 14. You have no right to be talking right now.” She glanced between 10 and 14, “But whatever—I might as well shut my mouth, let’s go. We didn’t even get anything done for the mission.”

“What even is the mission supposed to be?” Her voice began to crack when she continued, “Nobody is telling me anything and I’m the one who is supposed to be leading!”

14’s voice broke at the end of her speech. And it was true—she had no idea what she was supposed to be doing. Why does everyone act like she knows everything?

No one responded, a tense silence replaced the fiery argument. One by one the girls got up, clearly trying to ignore the previous interaction, and began to walk away from the abandoned plaza. 10 quietly hummed to herself, while 6 grabbed her hand carefully. 13 stomped ahead of the group, fury still lingering in her movements. 12 walked off to the side of the girls, looking around at the arrays of greenery. 14 stopped for a moment as she looked back at the empty buildings covered in kudzu—and felt an odd sense of dread mixed with familiarity quietly whispered from the dark alleyways, like the monster was still calling for her.

——

The walk back to the HQ was long, quiet, and tense. Occasionally, 12 would make a comment in an attempt to get a couple of laughs, just for them to fall flat. 13 still said nothing, her once angry movements morphed into something resembling guilt. 6’s hand was still tightly clasped in 10’s and they both looked hyper aware of everyone’s emotions. 14 still trailed behind the group, not able to get any words out. Not able to try and ask for more answers.

Finally the doors to the HQ appeared at the end of a cul-de-sac. A brown house with long grass and chipped paint greeted each number as they walked towards the glass door. 13 shoved open the door with unnecessary force and she began to mutter a ‘fuck’ under her breath. 10 ripped her hand out of 6’s and jogged inside to her room. 6 simply scoffed and rolled her eyes, but 14 could tell she was upset. 12 slowed down so 14 could catch up and greeted her with a toothy smile, but the smile held no emotion behind it.

Chapter Text

It had been late when the numbers arrived from their mission, and it had been even later when 11 called out from the kitchen “dinner is ready!”. The faint scent of tomato sauce and garlic spread through the living room as each number got to the dining room. By the time 11 had sat down to eat, 4 already had tomato sauce and spaghetti noodles on her purple shirt. Everybody tried to ignore it, but 12’s face grew redder than the sauce on her plate as she held in giggles. 4 tilted her head curiously as 12 eventually burst out laughing. She leaned her head back as her laughs soon grew to a cackle and soon, 9 and 10 joined in. 13–who was covering her snickers with her mouth eventually pointed out 4’s face. Recognition quickly lit up on her face as 4 quickly used her napkin to clean the mess, but there were still bits of pasta clinging to her mouth.

——

Forks scraped against plates and quiet chatter filled the table as the sun began to set. 10 stood up, her plate only half eaten, walking quickly towards the sink. 12 grabbed her wrist, brows furrowing.

“10, are you not hungry? You didn’t eat hardly anything on your plate, and I know you love spaghetti.”

10’s cheeks grew to a soft pink as she began to stammer out an answer.

“I uh— I just wasn’t hungry. I’ll probably get more when I’m hungry later.”

14 shifted her focus to 10 and cut in before 12 could respond.

“Are you sure? I mean, whenever you say ‘I’ll eat later’ or something like that, you never do.”

10 rolled her eyes as she yanked her arm from 12’s long fingers. A small grimace formed on her face as she turned to 14, unimpressed.

“Yes I’m sure. Just leave me be.”

10 stomped away, setting her dishes on the counter. A faint blush spread across her face as her eyes became glossy. She quickly glanced to 9, before heading to her room and slamming the door shut.

14 looked up at the remaining people at the table. Silence drifted around the room like an unwelcome visitor and the forks stopped scraping against the dishes. 13 stood up abruptly, her eyes averted from the table. She took a deep breath before beginning to speak.

“I’m not hungry anymore. I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.”

14 sighed as the quietest feeling of frustration bubbled in her gut. It wasn’t just what 13 had said—it was how she always tried to take away the spotlight. She always made the moment about herself. 14 rolled her eyes as she began to pick at the noodles once again.

Chapter Text

The sunset cast an orange glow that peeked above the horizon. A golden hue painted 14’s freckled cheeks as they let out a long breath. The rough patio scraped against their thighs as the breeze began to tangle their hair. 14 leaned back, closing their eyes. They just wanted to let the world consume them whole. Let each of their worries go; after all, it’s easier to be a weed than it is to be a leader.

But like any peaceful moment, it ended too soon. Just like a flower beginning to shrivel up. The door creaked open, and 12 briskly walked over to 14. She sat down just as the sun fully dipped under the horizon. 12 began to stare at 14, an unreadable expression in her eyes. Instead of talking, she pulled her focus to the dull outline of the moon and the darkening sky. The only sound filling the silence was the shrill noise of cicadas nested in the grass. 14 looked up at the now visible stars.

Within the array of the glowing stars, a pattern caught 14’s attention: the Orion constellation. Before 14 could control herself and ruin 12’s peace, she pointed her finger toward the moonlit sky.

“Hey 12, look up there. It’s Orion!”

12 blinked rapidly, getting out of her daze as she searched the sky. She tilted her head before her eyes lit up.

“Oh yeah! What’s the story behind that one again? I forgot.”

She began to laugh at her own forgetfulness before redirecting her attention back to 14, who rolled their eyes and looked around before continuing.

“Well, if my memory serves me right, then here’s the story.” 14 cleared her throat. “Orion was a hunter. He said he could kill any game that crossed his path—but he had an ego. However Gaia—“

“Wait, wait. Who is Gaia?”

12’s voice cut through, curiosity dripping off of her tone.

“—I’m getting to that. Gaia is the goddess of Earth. Gaia was concerned with how much Orion was bragging—“ 14 paused, searching her mind for the rest of the story— “so she sent a huge ass scorpion. And, contrary to Orion's previous belief, the scorpion killed him. After his death, Zeus—“

“Ok, ok. Now who is—“

“—you know exactly who Zeus is, 12.”

14 smirked as 12 began to snicker.

“Zeus decided to place Orion and the scorpion into the sky—“ a grin spread across 14’s face—“kinda like a memorial if you think about it.”

12, raised an eyebrow—a telltale sign she was about to start joking around.

“So… even in death Orion doesn’t get to escape that scorpion. Damn. I mean, if I was Orion, I’d be so strong that the scorpion would run away from me—“

Just before 12 was able to say more, the door swung open and 9’s head leaned out of the door. She glowered at the pair. The once comforting atmosphere vanished the moment 9 started to look up.

“12. 13 said she needs your help with a chore—you need to get inside.”

With a heavy, dramatic sigh, 12 got up and sauntered over to the door. She took one last look at the outdoors before heading into HQ. 9 waited for 12 to leave before she quickly shut the door.

“Hi there 9, do you need something?”

For a second, a small smile grew on 9's face. However the moment that 9 realized what was happening, she replaced her expression with her usual glare and frown.

“No. I just—“ she trailed off, scrunching her eyebrows to think.

“I just wanted to be outside.”

14 let out a tired breath. They were starting to get tired of 9’s constant sass. But something odd happened.

9 wandered over to an empty hammock and let her body fall into it. She lazily rolled onto her side, her stare like glass shards aimed at 14. There was something that seemed different. The air shifted into a softer breeze as 14 got closer to the hammock. 9 opened her mouth to speak.

“Anyway.”

14 looked at 9.

“I heard you got attacked by a maw.”

9’s sudden statement surprised 14.

“Wow 9. Way to ruin a mood.”

14 raised an eyebrow, hoping that her sarcasm was obvious.

“ I know, I know. But seriously—maws can be kinda—“ 9 cut herself off, thinking for a moment. “—really scary sometimes. With their long jaws and creepy eyes, it’s given the younger numbers nightmares.”

“‘The younger numbers’? 9, you’re young too—“ 14 opened her mouth, but soon closed it again, trying to find the right words. “…do you get nightmares?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? One: no I don’t get nightmares—I was talking about 4 and 7. And two: I’m not ‘one of the younger numbers’.”

9 quickly looked away, even in the nighttime her embarrassment was visible. 14 grimaced slightly. 14 wished they could say more—but they didn’t want 9 to explode. What was 9 talking about? Not being one of the younger numbers? She’s only 9. No matter how hard she tries to act older, she’s still just a kid. A new question filled 14’s head.

“Wait—why is it only 4 and 7 who get nightmares? Wouldn’t it be 4, 7, and 8?”

9’s jaw dropped slightly as she stared at 14 with bewilderment. In a way, 14 found her comical reaction funny.

“There’s no way— you actually think that everything 7 and 8 do is the same? You think that 7 and 8 just have the same lives? Well they don’t. I told you you needed to get to know people—“ she let her head drop onto the pillow—“get to know their personalities and where they stand.”

14 vividly remembered that conversation with her. Guilt slithered into their gut. They felt bad about assuming 7 and 8 were the exact same—but how was anyone supposed to tell the difference? They looked the same, acted the same, and even talked in the same way. What details were 14 missing?

Blinking towards the lit house, 14 let out a soft breath. They turned to 9, who stared off into the distance with an unreadable expression. 14 tried to catch her eye, but she quickly shot up—returning to her usual too-tough-for-you demeanor. She stopped for a moment just before stepping inside.

“Hey, 14? Don’t make me tell you to listen. It’s not my job to keep you in check—it’s yours. If you fail—“ she let out a short breath as she peered off into the distance once again—“then we fail.”

14’s eyes widened as a cold, sharp pit settled into their stomach. They forced themself to gulp before nodding.

“You don’t have to explain it to me, 9. I’ve got it under control.”

And once again, 14 was all alone.

Chapter Text

The house had a thick silence. Most of the lights were off—except for the singular light in the kitchen. Under the soft yellow glow, 13 stood— scrubbing dishes with an old sponge. 14 wandered over and tapped her shoulder. 13 let out a quiet gasp and she whipped around with wide eyes. The moment she recognized 14, her expression instantly softened as her shoulders began to droop down.
“Oh—hi 14, you scared me for a second.” 13 began to trail off as she poured her focus back into the soapy plates that floated in the sink. Without a word, 14 tossed their hair behind them and grabbed a small pot. 13 turned to 14, who was in the middle of scrubbing out the tomato residue.

“14, are they right?”

All it took was one question to get 14 to freeze completely. A feeling of dread tightened around their throat as the air around the pair turned freezing. Hearing 13 like this—timid—it shook 14 to their core. Their breaths became shallow as they whispered back,

“What are you talking about? Who is right?”

Even in the dimly lit kitchen, 14 could see the way 13’s lip quivered and how her throat bobbed before she allowed herself to continue.

“I mean…the numbers. Are they right about who I am?”

14’s frown deepened as 13 spoke. She opened her mouth to refute what had just been said but 13 quickly glanced away, beginning to talk at a rapid pace.

“Y’know what? Nevermind. Not important because I already know the answer.” She chuckled, but there was nothing behind it. “It’s time for you to get some sleep—after all it’s midnight.”

14 strolled to her room as the same cold atmosphere followed her like a stalker.

Despite being told to sleep, she sat in her squeaky desk chair. Loose papers with small scribbled notes were strewn across her desk. Her eyes caught onto a sheet of wrinkled notebook. She grabbed her worn pencil and began to write.

How did I fail this test?
Where did I go wrong?

How do I save this sinking ship?
I’m the captain of the Titanic.
I let myself drown in icy waters,
And I let my passengers die with me.

I’m a failed business—
I let my people down.

I miss the past.
I miss when I didn’t have to try.

I’ve walked through these doors as a leader.

And I’m slowly becoming a ghost.

14 sighed as they stood up and stumbled to their bed. The mattress dipped as 14 pulled the covers up over themself. They stared up at the popcorn ceiling and fell into a dreamless sleep.