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THIS FANFICTION TAKES PLACE IN A SAFE HOUSE RIGHT AFTER EIGHT'S DEATH.

Nine's POV

Oops. I didn't mean for my knock to be so loud.
"Sorry," I say, feeling timid for the first time ever.
I don't know what I expect from Marina. Will she scream at me? Punch me? Remain silent?
She stares out the window. The air feels dry and icy. Its freezing in here. It's great air conditioning but it's not ALWAYS a positive thing. I'm shivering. Marina's frozen expression doesn't change. After what seems like an eternity, her face darkens. She grits her teeth and struggles with getting the sentence out.
"Sorry doesn't fix Eight."
I feel like a I just got stabbed with a Mogadorian blade. Or one of Marinas icicles. Both are painful, no doubt. I try to come up with something to say that won't cause Marina to kill me. But I've got nothing. I'm so overwhelmed with regret, that my brain won't function. I stare at Marina for a little while longer. Because I don't want to do anymore damage to Marina (or to anyone), I turn around and exit the room.

Marina's POV

I'm dead inside. I want to die. I want to be with Eight. I want Eight to be with me. I can't believe he's gone. Forever. Because of Nine.
Because of Nine, Eight is gone.
Tears flood my vision.
Because of Nine, my Eight is dead.
Way to go, fucking asshole.
But I know it wasn't all his fault.
Five is mainly to blame. That traitor. That bastard. He killed my Eight, attempting to kill Nine.
It all would've been better if Nine had just died. Eight didn't deserve it.
I gulp as I realize what I'm thinking. Nine didn't deserve it either! I tell myself. But a different question nags at my mind.
Why didn't I kill Five when I had the chance?

Six's POV

Nine leans against the doorframe, lost in thought. He crosses his arms and stares at the floor. He takes a shuddering breathe that makes me feel sorry for him instantly. His eyes are getting red and I fear he's loosing it and I'll have to find a way to comfort him. Lucky for me, he remains calm, staring at the cracked wooden floor.
This safe house is old and ugly. Dust coats every surface. I don't even bother trying to clean up the place. We'll be leaving soon anyways.
"Talk to me, Six." Nine mumbles. I stare at him. He still won't meet my gaze. I can't imagine the amount of guilt he must be feeling.
"Nine . . ." I stand up from the creaky chair and move towards him. I place my hand on his arm. Finally, Nine looks at me.
Nine holds back a sob. "Just say something." He says firmly, trying to stay strong.
"I don't know what to say."
"Say anything." He says quickly. He brings his hands to his face. He's hiding from me. He doesn't want me to see him like this.
This is strange for me, seeing Nine all emotional. I realize I'm crying and wipe my eyes. I miss Eight. I miss everything about him. But it's not Nine's fault that Eight's dead. It's Fives'.
I embrace Nine. He's surprised at first but almost immediately hugs back. Nine buries his face in my neck to muffle his sobs. I don't care one bit. I feel useful for the first time in days.

I still can't believe Five knocked me out and I missed the entire fight. I could've helped. But instead I was just about as useful as chimera shit.
Nine squeezes me and cries even harder. I try to be brave. For Nine and for the others back in Chicago. But I just can't. I break down almost as badly as Nine and cry my eyes out.

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