why was 6 afraid of 7? [a BFB/TPOT fanfiction]

3:reap what you sow

...

Eight and Nine were as close as close could possibly be, then.
Nine didn't particularly understand people. They weren't completely adept in terms of manners, but Eight usually was there to care for her and tell if something she'd said was wrong. Nine- very well knew what being mean was, they just had trouble understanding what was offensive to say to others.

But Eight had Nine. And Nine had Eight.

Autumn had set itself within the grassy plains that the numbers resided. The sky was a dreery icky shade of grey and the wind blew harshly at the trees as what were left of the leaves blowing off someplace else. A leaf slowly floated down and landed atop Eight's face.

She'd jitter, quickly shaking the leaf away and recollecting her thoughts.

It's been years, and Eight still didn't know who took Nine away- and it just happened far too suddenly. Guilt was always on the number's back, and it stayed there the more they thought about it. Maybe if she was there with Nine, nothing would have ever happened.

Eight shivered and sighed.
Six went away, too. They were never particularly close, but their disappearance alongside Nine's nearly plagued her mind every other day.

Battle for Bfdi. The Power of Two.

Those two titles were the constant chatter of everyone around her, and it was tiring. Sure, they were happy for them. They'd never expected those three to do much- then again, it wasn't too surprising. Four and X, even in their childhood were stuck to eachother like glue. And Two- well. Two just wanted to live in Four's shadow. But, they supposed he got what he wanted.

The three of them had their reasons for moving on. It was understandable.

Good for them, right?

Yet.
Despite none of them doing much wrong, Eight felt some form of deep-seeded resentment in her gut. They were a distraction. Everyone else just tried to forget, except her.

Everyone else wanted something to focus on. No more disappearances, right? They're probably fine! It's probably their own faults; certainly none of us would want to hurt someone! What a silly thought!

Comments like that made Eight's blood boil. It felt like aslong as she lived.. she could never forget. The grey number held their hands over their eyes, clutching their teeth a little, and trying to make the thought slip away into a murky stain in her brain. Everything felt like a constant reminder, for them.

They'd wonder if they were happy that Nine was gone. Rid of a nuisance, in the others eyes. She angrily furrowed a brow at the thought, the wind more strongly blowing at the thin, weak tree.

Five carried a small basket full of flowers. They looked up and saw their friend, frowning. Worry for their friend building in the pit of their gut. This happens too often, it seems. Poor Eight, they thought..

Eight could only do one thing.
Swear vengeance upon thee whom took something that wasn't theirs.

Their eyes welled in tears, and the faintest hint of bitterness, and blight, confined to the thoughts that ached and tugged at not but only their brain, but also the delicate thread of their life.

The grey number clutched their fists solemnly.
Vengeance will be sought upon thee, whether they have something to speak of it or not.

Even if it is in the name of Love.