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Six always slept alone. Even before the transmission, before she lost her family, before she ended up in The Nest, she stayed alone. She built a wall around herself, keeping her emotions and secrets safe from the evil around her; her wall only grew once the transmission came. Sleep itself was childish to Six, you were openly making yourself vulnerable. Six was vulnerable, once. Once and only once.
She thought she found a friend at The Nest.
She was wrong, She was dead. Kindness is weakness, weakness is death. Friendships are born from kindness, sooner or later that friendship will lead to heartbreak. Six wouldn’t make that same mistake again, never again.
Six drilled this message into her brain. It was the only thing she could do, that, and crank the music box in front of her. She was caught, kidnapped and trapped. She tried to escape, but every attempt was met with disappointment. Her escape was uncertain, Six could only hope that her kidnapper would take mercy on her pitiful life.
However, that changed very quickly. What happened? The boy arrived. With a crash, the barricade keeping her locked in was broken. Out of the rubble came the boy, a strange child who wore a bag. He freed her, for some unknown reason, then offered his hand to her; he offered his kindness to her. Six was quick to leave him in the dust. Unfortunately, the boy caught up with her. As they looked at each other, a silent agreement was made. All she had to do was escape, then she didn’t have to see him ever again.
He is a strange boy. They ran together, hid together, killed the Hunter together, all the while he kept being nice. It was like he was the exact opposite of Six. What made him so nice? This strange boy confused Six, especially when they took the door out to sea.
Six was tired. All that running and swimming, it was exhausting. She had stayed in the Hunter’s cabin for over a month, if she had more vigor she’d be fine with all the running. However, Six spent most of her time sitting and winding the music box. As she sits on the wood door, the strange boy still accompanying her, she weighs her options. She can wait, just hope that the trip won't take very long. She can swim away, a suicidal endeavor, but an option nonetheless. She can talk to the strange boy, learn more about him and become his friend, an even stupider idea than swimming. Or, she can take a nap. They’ll be traveling for some time, so one little nap can’t be that bad. So, it was decided. Six lays on her back, the cold wood giving little comfort to the already wet and uncomfortable girl. The slow ocean currents drift Six to sleep, their waves like a lullaby from the sea. It was rather enjoyable. That was, until the boy ruined it. She felt his hand touch her shoulder; he had a soft touch. She was quick to open her eyes and slap his hand away. He retaliated, behind those empty bag eyes rested a look of confusion.
It was a silent agreement, Six’s eyes saying more than enough. He shuffled back to his side of the door, trying to avoid her terrible gaze. Six laid on the wood once more, the ocean’s lullaby drifting her back to sleep.
When her eyes opened, the Pale City welcomed her. The boy was waiting for her, his feet deep in the sand and arms swaying from side to side. He didn't go very far, unfortunately. He should’ve left when he had the chance.
Six didn’t understand why he was so nice. He always stayed nearby, always helped her through the crumbling buildings, always made sure he never went too far without her, he acted like they were friends; he was being weak. Even at the schoolyard he tried to be nice. While Six focused on entering the school, hopes high for food and clothes, the boy focused on playing games. He called out to Six, pointing at the soccer net before kicking a white ball towards her. She entertained the idea by kicking the ball back towards him, but didn’t continue after that. Playing games is childish. She can’t be a little kid anymore, being little means you’re weak. The weak die quick, Six isn’t like them.
But, exhaustion isn’t death. Unfortunately, Six was already tired. Jumping large gaps, climbing up rope, pushing around furniture, all very tiresome activities. As they entered the school, Six explored the lively lit area until she found multiple bunk beds. It looks like Six’s lucky break! There’s light, beds with blankets, a door to keep the monsters out, it’s practically perfect! Her only gripe? The boy also wanted to sleep. There were plenty of beds to pick from, his choice to sleep on the bed above her was frustrating. So she moved, again distancing herself from the boy. He got up to follow her, but Six’s menacing glare kept him away. Her eyes said one thing: stay away.
When she woke up, she found the head of a teddy bear sleeping beside her; she didn’t bring any toys to bed. A small gesture, probably done by the boy. She throws the toy across the room, it hits the wall with a thud. She doesn’t need to be comforted by some stupid toy, she especially doesn’t need the boy’s pity. She is fine on her own, he needs to understand that.
The rope around her leg seems to tighten with every passing moment, the burning numbness doing nothing to ease Six’s pain. There she hangs, beaten and mocked by a bunch of porcelain idiots. Her life is over, there's no chance she’ll escape this one. Soon they’ll come back, soon she’ll fall to the ground, soon they’ll kill her. She put her trust in a stranger, now she pays the consequences. She should’ve ran when she had the chance, just leave that boy and find shelter elsewhere! There were a million things she could’ve done, yet she chose the worst one. So she hangs, unable to do anything to change her fate. As she dangles from the ceiling, her thoughts reverberate throughout her mind.
I don’t need your help.
You should’ve left when you had the chance.
Weakness is death.
Her head crashes against the ground, the pain seeming small compared to everything she had to endure. As the world comes back to her, Six opens her eyes. Here she is, alone and afraid. She tries to pick herself up, but she keeps slipping on the moist marble floor. She looks around, confusion building as the group of bullies she expected are nowhere to be seen. Things come to a head as she sees someone standing over her, the single person offering their hand. She recoils, expecting a quick bludgeoning. Yet, as she looks at her rescuer, her thoughts spin wildly.
It couldn’t be, surely not…
She looks around, the scattered porcelain pieces confirming her suspicions. The boy gets closer, crouching down to offer his help. He came, against all odds he saved her. Again, he shows kindness. Six can’t help it, she takes his hand and clamores upwards. She almost falls forward, but the boy keeps her on her feet. She takes a moment to re-adjust, mere seconds after being freed she is ready to leave. They both go to the nearby window, pushing it upwards to escape the dirty bathroom. As they cross the wood beam, Six finds her hand holding his. She considers pulling away, she hadn’t even noticed it at first. But she hesitates, something tells her otherwise. They keep going, hand in hand.
There was a silent agreement between them. He didn’t say anything, didn’t gloat or pester her, he simply held her hand. Six found herself reaching for his hand, found comfort in his warmth, found herself being weak. They left the school, not a peep uttered between the two. Either he didn’t care to know, or cared too much to ask.
Before they crossed the giant chasm, the boy looked at her. With the heavy rain and dark sky, Six couldn’t see what his eyes said, but his body said enough. He nodded once, waiting for Six to return the gesture before letting go of her hand. Slowly they crossed the chasm, each step was a calculated risk. As Six walked across the chasm, she found something strange within herself. She wasn’t afraid of falling, tether, she was afraid of the boy falling. After they crossed the chasm, Six quickly took his hand and squeezed tightly. She bossed him forward, her grip trembling slightly. It was stupid, caring for his safety.
She let go of his hand, they were far enough. Six was ready to keep going, the rain pressuring her to get out of the city streets. However, she didn’t expect the boy to wrap his arms around her. She was quick to freak out and elbow him, turning around to look at the stupid boy. He retaliated, slightly pained after getting an elbow to the stomach. Once again her menacing gaze returned, digging holes into the dumb boy’s bag.
“I’m sorry…” he coughed twice, taking a moment to stabilize his breathing. He was hurt. He was sorry. He was stupid.
You should be.
Even with the heavy rain, there was an ever present silence between them. It was as if the world hushed, just to give Six a moment to scold the boy. If he can’t learn her boundaries, then she won’t wait until he does.
They continued forward, until Six found the remnants of her last partner. She remembers her look of terror, remembers the horrible silence that filled the air as she fell. Six slips the raincoat on, the memories of her old friend filling Six’s mind. They barely met, yet she seemed so kind…
No, she was weak. She died because she was weak. Six is different, she won’t be weak. At least, that’s what she tells herself.
It was stupid how she was already tired. She wanted to show her strength, prove her worth to the boy, even if it hurt. The harder she ran, the more her legs burned. The farther she jumped, the more her lungs ached. The quieter she became, the more she wanted to cry. This all came to a head once the boy activated the incinerator.
The Doctor would have escaped, they had to do it. Yet… she found no comfort in doing so. She took someone's life, again. What is she becoming? Killing is bad, only adults kill people. Is she becoming an adult? Just another monster? Her fears only grow as the Doctor starts to scream. He is alive, he is scared, he is dying! She is responsible… He is weak.
She sits by the bottom of the incinerator, her mantra echoing throughout her terrified little mind. He was weak, of course he deserved to die. You aren’t dead, so why be afraid? Enjoy the fire, that doesn’t make you weak.
It doesn’t help. She extends her hands, letting the fire send chills down her spine. It's warm, a feeling Six hasn’t felt in ages. Her breathing slows down, eyes close as if some invisible weight carried them down. Even with the elephant in the room, Six found comfort in the flames. Before she knew it, she was asleep.
When Six opens her eyes, everything is quiet. The crackling and popping of the incinerator slowly turned to a vibrant hum. She looks around, still in the hospital, still alive. However, she finds herself to be much warmer than before. She looks at her shoulders to realize she had been given a blanket, rather, the boy’s coat. She looks around, the boy nowhere in sight. She gets up, keeping the coat wrapped nicely around her. It’s a strange feeling, comforting but steamy. She returns to the escape path, the line of beds turned into a clump of broken, messy patient parts. Thankfully, this is where she finds the boy. He’s rummaging through the ruined path, his usual brown bag replaced with a patient's head. Six wonders, does he have a hat collection?
She coughs, rather loudly, and brings his attention to her. He waves sweetly, walking around to swap hats. Once done, Six promptly returns his brown coat. He nods once, walking ahead to the elevator. As the elevator carries them upwards, Six gets a strange churning in her stomach. It’s not hunger, not pain nor fear, but something more… bubbly.
“... thank you.”
She speaks, not with noises or whispers, but with real words. He looks at her, seemingly in shock. Six keeps her eyes to the floor, but still feels his surprised gaze. His bag crinkles ever so slightly. Of course, he smiles.
They run into the rainy street once more, the long stretches of dead concrete leading to nowhere still ever present. After everything they’ve been through, woods, schools, hospitals, an apartment complex doesn’t sound all that bad. As they run up the stairs, Six notices something strange about the boy. He was breathing much louder than before, groaning every time they stopped moving. He was tired, but didn’t voice his complaints. As they look at the dead viewer, the boy looks towards the window above the corpse. It was an exit, a chance to keep moving. However, Six chose to look at the dilapidated couch instead. It wasn’t the smartest place to sleep, it wasn’t the safest place to sleep, hell, it wasn’t even the nicest place to sleep. Yet, as she looks at the boy, she feels a pang of sadness. He wheezes quietly, like his throat is dry and hurt.
She tugs on his shoulder and points at the couch. He shakes his head, pointing at the window instead, the heavy downpour being all too familiar to the city’s open streets. Six tugs on his shoulder, harder this time, pointing back at the couch. He looks at her, his hollow eyes still unnerving Six. He points back at the window, using his fingers to mimic two people jumping through the window. Six points back at the couch, using her hands to mimic a pillow as she pretends to sleep on her imaginary pillow. The boy sighs weakly, nodding as he walks to the couch. She smiles, the darkness of the apartment hiding her toothy grin.
The boy makes his way to the couch, grunting in pain as he climbs onto the brown cushions. Six joins him, not out of any necessity though. As he lays his back on the couch, Six sits next to him. Being so close to him, having their hands graze each other but never fully touch, it was weird. It feels wrong.
Six’s mind engages in another battle, the debate topic a constant issue for Six. In the meantime her partner dozes off quietly, using his downtime to his full advantage. Then, suddenly, his head droops onto Six’s shoulder. His cardboard bag makes first contact, the outline of his head fitting itself nicely into the crevice of Six’s neck.
She gasps, confused by the sudden movement. The sleeping boy has chosen Six to be his pillow. She's confused, a little uncomfortable, and totally out of her element. Should she wake him up? Shove him off, make him sleep elsewhere? It’s her fault that he’s sleeping, shouldn’t she take responsibility and let him sleep on her? She tilts her head slightly, trying to move herself away from the boy. This only makes things worse as his head sags further. At any rate, his head will end up on her lap; she’d die of embarrassment if that happened.
She allows the sleepy boy to rest his head on her shoulder, deciding the best course of action is to rest with him. Her skin is covered in goosebumps as her mind races with thoughts of escaping. Life has dealt her these cards, so she must play. Of course, Six is horrible at poker, so this is run-of-the-mill bull crap for her.
When she wakes up, her eyes open to reveal a terrifying sight. Their hands… are intertwined! She jerks her hand away and looks at the boy, him looking just as shocked and embarrassed as Six is. He rubs his neck nervously, using his other hand to move over a few paces. She looks at him with irritance, but it quickly fades. They need to keep moving, even if things are a little awkward. She hurries and jumps through the window, the heat in her hand dissipating as the rain hits her.
As the boy pulled her from the wreckage, the last thing she thought about was taking a break. This is prime time, if she doesn’t prove her strength at her weakest, then the boy will walk all over her. Her legs ache with pain, each step feeling like glass piercing her skin. Her lungs burn with a conflicting cold flame, breathing becoming a hassle in itself. Despite all of this, Six pushes forward. Unfortunately, the boy knew she was hurt.
There was a small bed in the adjoining room, the boy practically drags her to it. She tries to walk away, but some battles can’t be won. He points at the bed, mimicking the same sign Six made back when he needed rest. Stupid boy and his stupid empathy.
He cups his hands and motions to the bed. With a swift toss, Six jumps onto the bed. It isn’t comfortable in the slightest, there aren't even any pillows. She lets her legs dangle as the boy looks at her. He flashes two thumbs up, Six returns the gesture. He then turns around, making his way out of the bedroom.
“Ah- wait!”
He halts in place, turning around slowly as if he heard a ghost. Six looks to the ground, her face burning hot. Why did she say that? Why does she feel so strange around him? Why is she being weak? Why, why, why?! Why… why is the wall shaking?
Deep within Six’s heart, something falls. It hits several things, making a ruckus as it hits the ground and shatters into a million pieces. She investigates the thing, a remnant from the wall laying shattered on the floor of her heart. She feels different, a bubbly warm feeling spurring inside her.
She looks back at the boy, still as a statue. The scowl that painted her face slowly turns into a soft smile. A silent agreement is formed between the two.
He walks back to the bed, jumping up and sitting next to Six. She feels scared, the silence between them broken by her fast beating heart. She lays on her back, the slow burn of back pain coming back to her. However, all that pain dissipates as soon as the boy lays with her. She keeps her eyes on the ceiling, but really, she wants to look at him. She wants to see the boy behind the mask. She wants to be weak, if only for a moment. His hand slips into hers as they interlock fingers. Six gasps and chokes on her breath, the small gesture sending reverberations throughout her body. He’s warm, his heat contrasting to the cold and barren world around them. He squeezes lightly twice, Six does the same. Still awake, still here. The boy whispers to her, a simple question.
“What's your name?”
She asked that same question. She died. Please be different.
“Six.” She whispers, her voice barely audible. The boy hums brightly, repeating her name. He sounds happy, like he smiles when speaking.
“My name is Mono.”
“Hi Mono.”
“Hey Six.”
Inside her, more bricks start to fall.
It wasn't long before Mono found her. Of course he’d come and save her, why wouldn't he? He’s always kind and helpful, it's in his character to help her! It felt like an eternity waiting for him, spending almost all of her time cranking her music box, her patience growing ever thinner. That didn’t matter now, he was finally here! Six was quick to show Mono her musical mystery, the familiar tune soothing Six, making her a comfortable kind of weak. She also showed off her toys and bed. It isn’t much, but it's safe. Under her black bangs she smiled. She could tell it was him, even without the bag. His coat still reeked of swamp water, his voice sounding like honey, he even had a gentle touch! It was all so very Mono.
As they laid on the floor, she heard him weep quietly. Why was he sad? Didn't he realize how much better things are now? Well, it's okay. As long as she has her Mono, nothing bad will happen. She's big now, she can finally show him how strong she is! But for now, all she wants is to sleep. She pulls Mono close, letting him rest on her heavy bangs. Her breathing slows down as she drifts to sleep, her dreams filled with delusions of grandeur.
She woke up. Not by choice, but from necessity. The sound of her music box breaking shot her into a frenzy. No, this wasn't her Mono. He would never hurt her like this, never break her toys and cry; her Mono wasn’t weak. It’s just another boy, just another bully, just someone she has to get rid of.
Things didn't go as planned. This stranger destroyed her music box, forced her to become small again, then begged for forgiveness. He dangled over the abyss, the only thing keeping him from falling was Six’s sudden choice to grab him. Who was he, asking for mercy when he showed her none? She was big, she was powerful, she was perfectly fine! Then this boy came and ruined everything! He was weak, and Six wasn’t. He’s just like the Hunter and Doctor, just another obstacle in her path.
She looks deep into the stranger’s eyes as she drops him, enjoying the sight of his blue eyes fill with terror. He didn’t scream or cry, as if the idea of Six dropping him wasn’t even possible. She wastes no time leaving the tower, hopping out of the TV to find herself back in the apartments. However, something was wrong. She proved her strength, but at what cost?
She looks into her heart, the wall once broken now rebuilt. Mono is gone, she’ll never find him in this huge city; the wall gets thicker. She's alone again, she needs to fend for herself again; the wall gets taller. She’s hungry, something tells her she won't be able to ignore this pang of pain; the wall traps her. Six realizes what's wrong, but it's too late. She's strong, yes, but she’s all alone.
Six is alone, something thats become all too common. Her current home is a total dump, her bed a worthless suitcase that barely offers any comfort with food thats already gone stale. She can live here for a long time, there's more than enough food and water to last. But something is missing. Every night, she realizes what is missing.
A friend.
She’s cold, the whole Maw is cold. Every day it was cold, like she lives in the belly of a rotting animal, Six eating on the remains of the carcass. Every night she would suffer, her body not strong enough to produce enough heat to keep her alive. So, she used her lighter. It was small, weak but useful. She tries to forget about the past, forget the girl who fell and the boy she lost.
If he was still here, he’d hold her hand. She flicks the lighter on, its warm glow offering little comfort. She misses the warmth he gave her. She lets the fire burn calmly under her palm, it hurts. It hurts more when she thinks about him . She starts to cry as her skin burns, memories of long lost friends haunting her. She drops the lighter as the flame starts to build on her palm, the searing pain almost engulfing her hand. She rushes to a puddle nearby, shoving her hand in as tears rush down her face. The cold water burns hotter than the flame. Six’s shrieks fill the empty Maw, her pain reverberating throughout the metal corpse.
Six looks at her heart, she looks at the wall. She wants to tear it down. She wants to escape and find him . She claws at the brick, her fingernails bleeding as her scratches become more frantic. Her hands quiver in pain, blood staining the wall with each frantic scratch. She tries to hit the wall, her knuckles bruised and bloodied from her past attempts. Her weak punches only grow the burning pain in her hands. As she slams her body against the wall, she falls to the ground and cries. It’s pointless, no matter how hard she tries it’ll never come down. She’s stuck in the Maw, her heart forever trapped in a prison of her own making.
As her eyes open, dread washes over her; she's still alive. She passed out, probably from the pain. She looks at her hands, the constant red color colliding with her pale skin. She needs to stop hurting herself like this, but she can’t. She misses him too much.
Mono, where are you?
Please, please come back!
Please… I need you…