Oh… to write, or not to write…? I probably shouldn't do this, but this story is just TOO cute. I can't resist anymore!

I've had several epic 9 fics in my head for quite some time, but this one is a fair oneshot that I don't think will take up too much of anyone's time. I got the idea in church, to be honest, though I guess it's kinda obvious. After all, the stitchpunks used to live in a church; they must know something about religion…

Some stuff to look for: parallelisms between events from the Bible and events from the movie, things the twins don't get or consider "important" in different parts of the story, change/evolution (evolution, sort of...), and light/darkness imagery.

My basic point for today is that Christianity is a journey, and that if you don't bother digging deeper, you have very little hope of actually getting it. Now watch as 3 and 4 try to figure out the Bible by piecing the destroyed world back together from the beginning…

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Faith Journey

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It was still raining outside. It had been raining for days, and showed very little sign of stopping. Inside the library it was cold and damp, and dark as always.

Luckily for 3 and 4, their constant chatter kept their path lighted, as they communicated by flickering their eyes. It wasn't much light, but it was enough to see by; enough to wander the long-empty halls and shelves full of moldering books and other things.

It seemed to the two that they would have known the entire library by now, after months of living there. But they were so small, and the building was so big, and they knew they had only covered a fraction of it, attempting to restore order to the mixed up titles. Some time ago, they realized that they couldn't do it quite the way the humans had done it before them; they had decided to try sorting the books in their own way, largely abandoning the Dewy Decimal System by which the humans seemed to once live by.

So far, the twins had only invented three vague sections: war, machinery, and life—the subjects which had fascinated them the most over the past several months. They spent most of their time digging through the recent past, trying to figure out what exactly had happened to the world, and why it was the way it was. To their credit, they had nearly puzzled the whole thing out, and they were very proud.

Today, however, they were taking a break. Humans and their wars were depressing to study, now that the Machine was finally destroyed and most of their family was dead, and especially now that it was so cold and wet inside. Today, they were looking into a new section of the library, one which they had never visited before, and they had no idea which one it would be. Perhaps it would hold some new treasure for them, or maybe a new clue to unraveling the mystery that was the seemingly extinct human race.

There were several different areas to choose from; when it came time to choose a hall to walk down, the two had to stop and think for a moment.

"I say left," 3 insisted.

"I say right," 4 protested.

Well, that obviously wouldn't do. They had to choose; they could only go one way, for they refused to be separated, after all that had happened.

But they chose in the end to go 4's way, to the right. There was a discoloring bust near her side of the room that looked nice, and none on 3's side, so they turned to the right, to the rather small section bearing the name "Religion" above it on the wall.

"'Religion'," 3 recited in flicker-speak, drawing on his convenient photographic memory, "'a personal set or institutionalized system of religious attitudes, beliefs, and practices', or 'a cause, principle, or system of beliefs held to with ardor and faith.'"

"Sounds pretty important; especially if the humans have a whole section on it," 4 mused, taking a look around. "But it seems kind of small," she noted.

Together they walked deeper into the Religion section, looking over the titles of the books at or just above or below their eye level. In their studies on human life and the pioneers of modern machinery, they had learned a little about some religions they saw— Judaism, Hinduism, and Atheism being the big ones. They knew very little about them, but they recognized the names; others they had never heard of before, such as Islam, Zen, and older, ancient sets of gods and goddesses.

These books were all rather frustrating to the impatient twins; it was hard to understand it all.

"These humans believed in too many things," 3 said decidedly to his sister as they continued to browse.

"And all their beliefs seem vague to me," 4 added. "What is it all based on? I don't get it."

As they continued on, what interested them the most was the different incarnations of one particular book called the Bible. Two whole shelves were dedicated to volumes of it; there were two copies of each version available, and there were many versions. Some of them were old, bound in leather or cloth, with titles such as King James and Luther stamped into the spines in gold leaf. Others were much newer, bearing shorter titles such as NIV and NCV.

"Let's look at the King James one," 4 suggested. "It's named after a king; it must be important," she explained.

3 was intrigued as well and helped 4 pull the aging book from the shelf. After several minutes of tugging, the tattered King James Bible came tumbling off the shelf and fell to the floor many yards below. It landed with a smack that echoed eerily through the empty building, clearing a year and a half's worth of dust and dirt from its immediate landing spot.

"I hope that didn't startle 7 and 9..," 3 said as the echo began to fade, still not sure why he and his sister didn't want their companions interfering in their studying.

The twins climbed back down to their dropped Bible, eager to begin reading. The binding was dark red cloth, worn smooth but rough from years and use, the gold leaf flaking off in places. The pages seemed to have once been lined with gold leaf as well, but it had faded was badly as the binding. Undaunted, together they opened the front cover as carefully as they could and found the first page.

"'Genesis'," 4 began. "'In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.'"

"Oooh," they said together, awed by the powerful words.

"I still don't get it, but I sure do like it," 4 said, continuing to read down the page.

"This God must be pretty powerful to be able to create light," 3 agreed. He held his four-fingered hand up into the rays of light that his eyes cast as he spoke, wondering about this "God" that had created the light.

"I wonder what he looks like; and where he is; and who made him," he continued. "4, look it up. See if it says."

"I don't think it says," she answered. "I'm halfway down the page and it doesn't say anything about where he came from or what he looked like or anything. But he sure did create a lot of stuff. It looks like he made… well, everything."

3 scratched his head, confused. "I thought that humans created everything…"

"I think we might need to read a little further. Maybe it'll say later where God came from. I'm curious now."

"Oh boy. We'll never get to finish finding out about the war now; and we were so close, too."

"Yeah… But I don't think that really matters anymore. And anyway, I'm tired of reading about destruction, 3; it would be nice to read about creating things for a while."

3 considered for moment. "…I guess you're right," he agreed with a smile. It felt good to smile again; he hadn't had a good reason to in several days.

And thusly, their studying began.

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It didn't take the two very long to realize that reading their worn Bible by itself wasn't going to work very well. It began barley into the second chapter of Genesis—not even off the first page—when God created a man, and named him Adam.

"So that's where humans came from: God created them too," 3 said petulantly.

"And what a funny name," 4 added.

The trouble continued, as God created a woman named Eve to keep Adam company. After that, she ate an apple that God had told her not to, shared it with Adam, and they were both sent out of the paradise that God had made for them.

"Humans do the strangest things; why would someone want to put a whole apple into their mouth?" 3 wondered. He'd seem pictures of apples and they were pretty big, even for a human. The idea of eating or drinking was completely foreign to them, though they knew how it worked and why it was necessary from other books.

And it only became worse after that: Adam "knew" his wife, Eve, and she conceived and bore a son, the book said.

"But… I though he already knew her," 4 said, frustrated.

"Maybe it means something different here," 3 suggested. "She had a son afterward… This seems familiar… I think I saw it somewhere in our life section that we've been working on, but I'm not sure."

"Maybe we should go and get the book you saw it in; it could help us."

"Yeah; and maybe a dictionary too…"

So they momentarily left their reading to find the books they needed.

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Days and weeks passed, and the rain continued. It had been raining for nearly a month and a half with no break, and 7 had definitely developed a serious case of cabin fever. She wished that she liked to read as much as the twins did; she hardly ever saw them when they were awake, because they kept themselves busy with their books and cataloging. She didn't even know how to read that well, but she would never admit it.

As happy as she was that the enormous library provided a haven for herself and her family, it wasn't the best place for 7 to call home. She wasn't the type to ask questions like 9 did almost constantly, and she wasn't the type to ravenously seek answers like the twins did. The library—with its books, history, and piles of information—was the perfect home for them. She would have rather been outside, wandering in the emptiness, with no walls to confine her, but there was no going out in the rain.

She felt like she was trapped. The walls of the library were far apart, but they were walls, nonetheless. Before the rain started, it wasn't a problem; nothing had ever prevented her from leaving in the past. But now, after weeks stuck inside, she felt like a bird trapped in a cage.

9 could see that this was bothering her painfully, but he had no idea how to soothe her and it annoyed him. Of all the things that he thought of and all the random stuff he came up with, why couldn't he figure out how to make 7 happy? He had a good feeling that the twins could probably help him, but he didn't see them much during the day and had no idea where they went.

In fact, the pair wondered where 3 and 4 were running off to. They were visible for perhaps five brief minutes in the morning, just to say good morning to their "mama" and "papa", and then they vanished for most of the day. Then they returned in the evening, said good night, and then fell asleep, apparently exhausted from whatever it was they were doing.

"They must be moving things around," 7 had decided after a few weeks of this. "The books are big and heavy; it's a lot of work for just the two of them, after all."

9 seemed to accept this, though it was clear that he was still curious and more than a little dubious about her conclusion.

"I think they're up to something," he insisted. However, he decided to stay out of the twins' business unless they came and asked for his help. His overwhelming curiosity had gotten him into too much trouble in the past; now that he had a family to look after, he had sworn to himself to be more careful.

Then one evening, 3 and 4 didn't come back. Armed with several matches to light their way, 9 and 7 set out together to look for them.

The first place they looked—the obvious one—was the war section the twins had been working on so hard before. The place was deserted; it didn't look like anyone had been there in a long time. A layer of dust had collected on top of everything. Sets of notes were scattered all over the place, many stopped in mid-sentence. Each sheet of notepaper was about the size of a postage stamp, and the writing came in two very different hands: a casual, straight-lined, hurried hand that was probably 3, and a formal but simple cursive style that must have been 4.

"I don't understand it," 7 sighed as she looked over the uncompleted notes. "They were working so hard before. Why would they just stop like this?"

"Maybe they got bored," 9 answered, also looking at a sheet of 4's unfinished notes on the hydraulics system of an army tank. "…Or maybe depressed," he added, setting the paper back where he had found it.

"I had thought they were working on this stuff. Where have they been all this time?" 7 wondered.

"I guess we'll find out now," 9 concluded, leading 7 out of the war section and into the rest of the building.

"You know, it's a really beautiful place," 9 noted as they walked through the darkness."I'd love to see it in the light."

"It's creepy in the dark," 7 muttered, making sure to keep up with her companion and his match. She didn't mind the dark; she did mind not being able to see where she was going.

After wandering aimlessly for a long time and looking behind every stack of books they found, they turned a corner and found themselves in a small reading room. In the center of the room, beneath a round table, radiated a light. As they approached the glow, they realized that it was coming from inside a circle of what looked like pieces of a wall separated from each other by gaps about two inches wide. The walls turned out to be books, opened wide so that they stood up by themselves.

This could only be the work of the twins. 9 and 7 walked through one of the gaps and into the enclosed space, which was lighted and heated by a candle at the center. Beside the burning candle was another big book, set up on a stand and opened to a page somewhere close to the end.

As they had predicted, there were the twins as well, both fast asleep. 4 was kneeling beside the big book, her head against the page, and one of 7's borrowed knives in her hand. 3 was nearby, sprawled on the floor, his thumb stuck childishly in his mouth. Beside him was a knife he had made out of a scrap of tin, and a rusty bottle cap filled with a dark liquid that looked black in the candle light.

"So this is what they've been up to…" 7 murmured, admiring the way the twins had constructed their study. Surrounded by all the open books, all their words facing her head-on, she almost felt smarter just by standing there. "…Oh! That's where my knife went," she added when she realized that the knife 4 had was the one she had been missing for several weeks.

"When these two pick something to study, they really commit to it," 9 commented, shining the light from the match over 3 and noticing something else on the floor. He knelt down on one knee to get a better look. It looked like letters had been carved into the wood. They were words—names—that seemed to be following a graph of some kind. He looked back to see where the graph began, but it began somewhere on the other side of the study where he couldn't see.

"7, look at this."

7 came over to look at the graph, even less sure of what it was because of her poor reading skills. "What is it?" she asked.

"I don't know," 9 admitted. He hated it when 7 asked good solid questions that he couldn't give a straight answer to; it made him feel useless. And it seemed to him that this happened a lot.

Undaunted by the answer she'd received, 7 walked along the edge of the graph, looking for its beginning. It followed the inner curve of the space, and she followed it until she ended up behind the big book.

"Some of these words are red," she noted as she walked. "Most of them are black, though. What's that stuff in the bottle cap?"

9 dipped one finger into the bottle cap. The liquid was thick and black, but smooth and drippy. It appeared to be the same kind of ink that the twins used for writing anything: a simple mix of the ashes of burned out matches and a little water.

"It's just ink," he answered.

He began to see what they were doing. When they carved the names into the pale wood of the floor with their knives (borrowed or otherwise), they used their ink to highlight the letters. In fact, now that he looked, 3's fingers were stained black and red. He didn't know where they had found red ink, but he had a feeling he would find out soon enough.

7 had finally found the graph's starting point, but she still wasn't good with the words and didn't know what they meant. But they were all connected by lines: two words connected and led to a new word which connected to another new word, etcetera, etcetera. The red words seemed to lead somewhere; looking back the way she had come, the red words made a path. She wasn't even sure anymore why the black ones mattered.

"This is weird…" she muttered, planting her fists impatiently on her hips.

"Should we take them back to bed?" 9 asked as she returned.

"Good question," she admitted. She had moved the twins from their previous study in the past, and it irritated them. They would wake up discombobulated and snappish. But she didn't want to leave them all night either…

"Perhaps we should just leave them," she said slowly after thinking it over. "Maybe they'll wake up in the middle of the night and wander back."

It wasn't exactly the verdict that 9 had expected, but he understood the reasoning. 7 came and knelt beside 3 and pulled his thumb out of his mouth.

"It's a bad habit; I wish he would stop," she sighed. 3 stirred a little, but he didn't wake up. Actually, he smiled a little. It was good to see that he was having sweet dreams, not nightmares.

"He's a good kid," 9 assured her. "He also seems to be kind of goofy."

"They aren't always alike," 7 agreed. "4 is too serious sometimes… You'd hardly know they were related at all, or that they spend so much time together."

"Why haven't they told us about this place?" he asked, standing back up.

"They've always been secretive like this," 7 answered, letting him help her up. "It's what they do; I've always just let them do it in peace."

"Do they ever ask for help?"

"Not really. They seem happy on their own… But sometimes it does feel like they're trying to hide things."

"Maybe we'll ask them about this place in the morning."

"Curiosity," 7 warned. "And what if they don't want to answer?"

"Then it's their business."

"And you would really just drop it?"

"Of course."

7 didn't trust 9 at all. His curiosity was eating him alive; there was no way he was going to just leave it at that… was there? They had only known each other for a month and a half, but for that short time she felt like she knew him well enough.

Not as well as she thought, she hoped for this instance.

Before turning to leave, 9 stopped to look at some of the text of the big book:

"But when the fullness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons. And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father. Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son; and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ. Howbeit then, when ye knew not God, ye did service unto them which by nature are no gods," he read quietly to no one in particular.

The words sounded very professional and smart—kind of like the twins—but he didn't understand most of what it was trying to say—once again, kind of like the twins.

The match he was holding suddenly went out, causing the light to become slightly darker. The candle was still burning brightly, and 7 went to use its flame to light another match. Once it was lighted, she blew the candle out and it became much darker with only the little match to light the place.

"They won't miss the light while they sleep; and if it set the library on fire…" she explained. They had all learned long ago the dangers of leaving candles and their useful but potentially destructive flames unattended.

"Right," 9 agreed vaguely as she began walking toward the space they had come through. Before following her out, he set his burned out match on the ground beside 4—new ashes for their ink. They would appreciate it, though he wondered how they would feel when they realized someone else had been in their study without their knowing.

He stopped once again to admire 4's sleeping face. Her expression was oddly stoic, and he remembered what 7 had said about her sometimes being too serious. It didn't matter; he found her seriousness charming anyway. He leaned over and kissed the child lightly on her forehead.

"Sleep well," he whispered. "I hope your dreams are as sweet as your brother's."

"You must really like them," 7 said sweetly as he caught up with her.

"I do," he agreed as they walked off. "I really like you all."

Touched in spite of her general defensiveness, she reached out her hand and laced her four fingers between his. They vanished into the darkness; except for the eternal pounding of the rain outside, it was still again.

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Many hours later, 4 woke slowly from a pretty boring, dreamless, but somehow restful sleep. It took her a second to remember where she was—not in her bed beside her brother, but still in the circular study, the King James a poor substitute for a pillow. As rested as she was, her neck, the side of her head, and her knees were all sore. She stretched her arms wide and rolled her head from side to side, wincing slightly as the metal joints snapped back into their proper places.

I must remember never to fall asleep in here ever again, she thought to herself.

It suddenly occurred to her that something was decidedly different about the study this morning—or whatever time it was, for the lack of sun or working clock made it impossible to tell time. For one, the candle had gone out sometime while she had slept and now it was very dark and a little chilly. Using her eyes for a flashlight, she looked around the floor in front of her and saw 3, not too far from her, still sleeping on the floor.

Feeling a little dizzy, she set her hand down on the ground to steady herself. She found an object unexpectedly in her hand. She picked it up and saw that it was a used match, burned down almost halfway.

Someone had definitely been in the study.

4 decided not to kid herself; it was only a matter of time before 9 and/or 7 stumbled upon the place. It just peeved her that she hadn't been conscious to try and defend it. She suddenly felt a little silly. The whole thing must have looked so weird to them. And surely 9 would have his usual questions for them later.

It's too early to be calculating, she told herself, standing up and wincing yet again as her knees and back took their turns realigning themselves. Her head started spinning again and she stumbled, catching herself against the Bible.

A safety net in so many ways, she thought, feeling comforted by the page against her cold metal fingers.

First order of business: relighting the candle. Not only did the light keep the small space lighted and warm, it kept the books from getting damaged by the dampness by drying the mildewing pages. However, 3 had all the good matches. She sort of didn't want to wake him up; 3 slept deeper than she, and he tended to dream in color. As one who didn't dream much while she slept, 4 was loathe to wake someone enjoying a good dream.

But her desire to know what exactly had happened in the study while they had slept overpowered her courtesy. She knelt beside 3 and began shaking him gently.

"3, wake up. I need a match; and I think someone came in last night."

3 came around slower than she had, oblivious to most of what she had just said. She waited patiently while he sat up, stretched, and blinked his eyes several times.

"Where are we?" he asked groggily. If his eyes weren't made of glass and his fingers weren't made of metal, he would have started rubbing his eyes.

"Actually, we fell asleep here last night," 4 answered.

"Oh. I was just going to rest my eyes while I waited for you to wake up…"

"Never let me do that again."

"I won't. But I was so tired. I wonder if 9 and 7 were worried enough to look for us."

"I think they already found us," 4 said, showing her brother the used match in her hand. 3 took it from her and examined it.

"It's definitely one of 9's," he agreed. "The blue-tipped ones he has are made of wood like this; not like the ones we use." He reached into his chest and pulled out a match of his own, which had a red tip and lighter colored wood.

"They must have been so confused," 4 fretted, taking the red match from 3 and striking it on the sole of her wooden foot. "We must have looked crazy."

"There's a lot that 7 refuses to understand," 3 agreed, "but maybe she'd be willing to listen if we tried to explain it."

All four of them had their hidden fears that they weren't ready to admit to each other yet. 3 and 4 shared a fear of 7—who had raised them—thinking they were crazy. Crazy meant not good enough, not worth listening to. Not being listened to meant being ignored and eventually being totally forgotten.

7's general stubbornness only agitated their fear. There was so much that they could understand because of the books they read. 7 understood basic, useful, often highly emotional things like survival, loneliness, freedom, and more recently love. But grander concepts such as the battle between Good and Evil were beyond her right now.

"Maybe 9 would listen," 4 suggested. "He likes getting answers, even when he hasn't asked a question yet. And the Bible has a lot of answers in it."

"Maybe you're right…"

9 was easier to talk to about things that they found. He shared with them a deep desire—nay, a deep need—to know things. He seemed to understand them and their quest for knowledge, and he took a genuine interest in everything they had to say. 4 was right: they had answers, and 9 never ran out of questions. Ever.

It suddenly occurred to the twins that 9 was going to love the Bible even more than he loved their wellspring of information. The Bible, they had found, contained basic answers to every question any of them had ever asked. Where everything had come from, why humans were so messed up as a race, how civilizations evolved, and even how to live a happy and productive life. And there was more—so much more.

Of course, it had been too much for little 3 and 4 to absorb on its own right away; they needed other books for reference. Therefore, surrounding the Bible and the candle were a collection of the 15 books they used most often for aid. There were books on ancient cultures and languages, dictionaries in various languages—including Elizabethan English—atlases to the Middle East and Europe, works by Locke and Hobbes, Luther and Calvin, even Freud, Darwin, and Machiavelli. In absents of human references to ask directly, an attempt to reconstruct a basic human understanding of the world would have to do.

3 was excited to finally be able to tell someone about their fascinating research, but 4 was apprehensive about looking silly—one of her many underlying fears. The architecture and purpose of their study suddenly seemed ridiculous to her. However, it didn't last long; she drew on a few words of comfort which she had found in the tome to still her fear. Recently, she had been slightly surprised to find that she believed every word she was reading.

And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus, she recalled. Repeating the verse in her head made her feel strangely at ease, like dust settling after a windstorm. It was one verse that particularly stuck with her on their first cold read-through of the Bible; even when they understood so little about God, the verse characterized him as someone she could feel safe with.

Plus, the passage happened to be Philippians, chapter 4, verse 7, and that made her smile.

It wasn't too long ago that neither of them would have dreamed of sharing their research with anyone, unless something specific or important was asked for. Most of it had been born from various insecurities that they hadn't even been aware they had. Now it was different. Like the few other denizens of their broken world, they didn't know God that well; but in the short time they had journeyed though the Bible with him, he had changed them in ways they were very aware of but couldn't explain.

It took the two very little debate to decide the next order of business: it was time to find the trespassers and explain the purpose of the study to them.

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The twins found their guardians still asleep. 9 and 7 shared a room—a phenomenon of 7's doing; she claimed that it was practical and it made sense that the adults share a room while the children shared another. Once upon a time—about a month and a half ago—they had slept in separate beds, but that had somehow fallen through while 3 and 4 hadn't been paying attention and they now shared a bed as well. The twins hadn't realized this until they stuck their heads into the makeshift room—also constructed mainly of books.

It made them feel sort of out of the loop to see how things had changed while they had been studying. But at the same time, it gave them an unusual sense of comfort. They didn't care anymore who or what made them—9 and 7 were their parents now, and it was nice to see that their parents liked each other enough to share a bed. It meant that at long last, there might be a little stability in their lives.

But there they were, sound asleep in bed, as if they didn't know anything and hadn't been anywhere!

The first idea that dawned on the twins was to run up to the bed and pounce on their unsuspecting parents. Like other ideas, it occurred to them at the same time, and all it took was a confirming are-you-thinking-what-I'm-thinking?-kind of look and a nod of agreement to figure out what they were going to do. On their hands and knees, they crawled up beside the bed, trying hard not to laugh out loud at their own antics. 3 counted down aloud in flicker-speak:

"One... Two… Me!"

With an attempt at an animal-like roar that turned out to be barely audible, they sprung on the bed, waking 9 and 7 with shrieks of surprise and alarm. Their surprise finally executed, the twins dissolved into uncontrollable laughter; sort of to their surprise, once their victims realized what had woken them so rudely, they joined their laughter.

"Oh, you two," 7 sighed, sitting up. "Isn't it a little early for that?"

9 was already sitting up, and he patted each of the twins on the head. "Did you sleep well?" he asked—typical, the first words out of his mouth in the morning being a question.

"Meh," 4 answered. "I'm sore."

9 and 7 had long ago stopped wondering how they were able to understand what the twins were saying. The flicker-speak just seemed to register in their minds as whole words; they decided to just accept and enjoy it.

"How did you sleep?" 3 asked accusingly.

"Well," 7 answered teasingly. "…I guess you figured out that we were in your study last night."

3 and 4 gave her a nonplussed "duh" look.

"We're sorry," 9 insisted. "You didn't come back last night; we were worried, so we went looking for you," he explained.

"I guess you have a lot of questions, huh?" 4 asked slowly.

"If you wouldn't mind explaining," 7 agreed.

"It's okay if you do mind; you don't have to explain anything if you don't want to," 9 added. "…But we really wish that you would."

"Where would you like us to begin?" 3 asked.

"That graph on the floor," 7 said definitely. "What is that thing?"

"It's a genealogy table," 4 answered factually. "You use it to trace your family line."

"Humans make other humans; one human person has a mother and a father, and he's related to everyone that his mother and father was ever related to. So you use a genealogy table to keep track of everyone he's related to," 3 explained.

"And we've been tracing the genealogy of someone really important," 4 concluded.

"Are those the names in red?" 9 asked.

"Yes," the twins answered at the same time.

"Then why are the names in black important if you're only looking for the ones in red?" 7 asked.

"The other people with the black names did important things too," 3 answered.

"They're just not the people we're interested in for our table," 4 finished for him.

"Who are you looking for with your table?" 9 asked.

"Jesus," they answered in unison again.

"Most of the Bible is all about Him," 3 elaborated. "His father is God—He created everything that ever was or ever will be."

"We finally figured it out a couple of weeks ago," 4 added. "Everything that happens before Jesus finally comes is building up to Him. All these prophets said that he would come and bring peace and love; they knew everything that would happen to Jesus before He ever even got there! It's amazing!"

"We found out that a whole bunch of the people the Bible talks about are related to Jesus; we've been putting the genealogy table together to see if we can connect them all. We're halfway there now; the Bible is full of records of names, and we've been using them. It really works!"

"The Bible is the book that you've been studying so hard?" 7 asked.

"It's the fancy one; the words are bigger," 4 answered, not completely answering the question.

"There are easier Bibles to read in the Religion section, but we like this one best," 3 added.

"No surprises there. Did He bring peace and love when He finally came?" 9 asked.

Not really the type of question they had expected from him. They had been expecting him to ask about the other books, or for a deeper explanation of the genealogy table or something like that. But it was a valid question, and they had the answer… sort of.

"I think He did," 3 said decidedly. "But… I don't know if everyone else thought so."

"I don't think He was what everyone was expecting," 4 added. "The prophets said that He would be a great king, but He didn't act like a king at all. He acted more like a teacher."

"I think everyone else was hoping He would kick out the Romans; instead, Jesus told them to love their enemies. I guess it was kind of a surprise to them."

"Who were the Romans?" 7 asked.

"Rome is a city in a country called Italy; it used to be the most powerful city in the world, and they took over a lot of other countries, and they weren't always very nice," 4 explained.

"What do you mean?"

The twins exchanged a doubtful look; Rome and great greedy empires were a lesson for another day.

"Ask another question," 3 suggested flatly.

"If this Jesus was supposed to be a king but acted more like a teacher," 9 asked slowly, forming his question as he went, "and He told everyone to love the people who they hated, how exactly did the people respond?"

"They probably ran Him out of town," 7 suggested.

The twins stared at them sadly, not sure how to tell them the answer.

"…They crucified Him," 4 said sadly.

9 and 7 stared at them blankly.

"They killed Him," 3 elaborated for his parents, and watched as their expressions changed from confused to shocked.

"What for?" 7 asked, maybe even a little horrified.

"Nothing; the authorities were just afraid of Him," 4 answered soberly.

"Jesus was kind of a radical," 3 explained. "He was always teaching about a way of life that left the authorities out, praised the scum of society and criticized the wealthy. He made the people in power look like idiots, and He spent most of his time hanging around with outcasts."

Something incredible dawned on 3 for the first time.

"9… He was kind of like you!"

9 smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"There are a lot of people who don't believe that any of its true," 4 continued pensively. "Jesus taught people to be a way that's really hard to be: compassionate, calm, loving, really, really brave… But I don't get that—why they don't want to believe it."

"Why not?" 7 asked, intrigued.

"Jesus promised that anyone who believes in His teachings and loves him with all their heart, soul, and mind will have everlasting life," 3 explained. "That was why He died. God sent Him to die for everyone, to save us all, even though we don't really deserve it. God gave his son for us; Jesus pretty much stood there and let himself get killed to save us…"

"We've looked at some of the other religions in the Religion section," 4 continued when 3 trailed off. "None of them are anything like that. None of their leaders sacrificed themselves for a world full of disobedient people. They all offer things like total peace of mind, personal balance, or just a clearer view of the world; but none of them offer everlasting life like Jesus does."

"If people are so disobedient and undeserving, why would God do something like that for them?" 7 asked.

"Because He loves them," 3 answered quickly. "He loves them very much, even though they aren't very appreciative sometimes."

"Love is very powerful," 4 added. "If God loved them enough to send His son to die for them, it must be powerful."

9 opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again, choosing his words carefully. "…That's all well and good for them—people, humans. But… what about us? Everlasting life sounds pretty good to me, but we aren't human."

"Well…" 3 started, but hesitated; he had never thought of this either.

"We're alive, and we have souls… Surely He must love us too," 4 reasoned.

"Yeah, that's right! God created life, after all. He's got to care," 3 agreed.

"But God didn't give us our life; a human person did," 7 pointed out.

"But God gave him life so that he could give it to us, didn't He?" 3 countered, feeling pretty optimistic. "Without God, life isn't possible at all, so in a way… God still gave us life anyway!"

"So, some people don't believe in all of this," 9 recalled. "What do you two think?"

"I know it's all true," 3 answered sincerely.

"Me too; it makes too much sense to be fake," 4 added.

"According to Jesus, there's a God who loves us and is trying to help us."

"And He's got a place waiting for us in Heaven where we can always be with Him."

"And that, even though we're tiny little people in a huge world, we're still important; maybe even more important than the big people."

"And all that He wants in return is for us to love him."

7 turned the idea over in her head. "…It seems like a lot to ask of someone," she said nervously, remembering what they had said about the heart, soul and mind—all these given over to God in the name of love? She wasn't even sure if she had an actual heart or mind to give, but all of them knew for sure that they had souls. If they didn't have their souls—the only organic part of their beings—what did they have? And after all that they had been through, how could 3 and 4 be so willing to just hand theirs over like this? It was a steep price for anyone so young to even think about paying.

"I don't think it's much to ask at all," 4 countered plainly. "He sent his son to die for everyone that ever lived and ever would live until the end of time."

"Yeah, mama," 3 agreed. "The least we can do is love Him back. A heart, soul and mind is, like, a tiny fraction of a tiny fraction of how much God loves us."

"But it's better than not trying to love him back at all."

"You've been calling us 'mama' and 'papa' lately," 7 noted. "Why's that?"

"It's short for 'mother' and 'father'," 4 answered.

A contemplative silence passed. The twins waited for one of their parents to say something.

"It's a lot to take in so early, but I'm glad that you decided to explain all this to us," 9 said at last. "I think you're both right; it does sound important."

"Why did you never tell us about this before?" 7 asked.

"We didn't really understand a lot of it ourselves, until just now," 4 admitted.

"And we didn't know if… If you would want to understand," 3 added. "There's so much we try to tell you about, and you don't listen."

"Yes, you're right," 7 agreed, feeling a little ashamed. "I shouldn't have discouraged you like that."

"You didn't mean to," 3 insisted, unwilling to believe that 7 would do something like that to them on purpose.

"But we accept your apology," 4 added with a sweet, helpful smile. 7 smiled back, feeling strangely at ease with her apology accepted.

Maybe this feeling was worth her soul, and anything else of value she could find to offer.

For himself, 9 stared up at the ceiling, where the rain continued to pound like thunder, and meditated briefly on everything that he had learned in that short amount of time. It was startling, attention-catching, and ridiculously open-ended. There was more to this story; that much was certain. But it was good—hopeful, pure, full of promise—that much was also certain.

"I'd like to learn more about this," he said quietly, still staring upward. "Can I come back to the study with you sometime?"

The twins lit up.

"Of course!" they said together.

"We'd love it if you did," 4 added, punctuating herself by throwing her arms around 9 and giving him an inescapable hug, prompting warm, comfortable laughter from the rest of her family.

Yes: family.

"But do you think we could start tomorrow?" she asked, covering her mouth as she yawned silently. "I suddenly feel really tired…"

"Me too," 3 agreed, stifling a yawn of his own.

"It sounds like you could use a break. Come lie down and rest for a while," 9 offered.

4 nodded vaguely, still resting her head against his shoulder, and closed her eyes. 3 climbed awkwardly over his legs between him and 7.

"Thanks," he said with a tired, goofy smile. He laid his head down, closed his eyes, and stuck his thumb back in his mouth with a happy sigh.

"3, take your thumb out of your mouth," 7 said sternly. 3 rolled his eyes, but he did as she told him. On the other side of the bed, 4 giggled just a little.

Something suddenly occurred to 9. "Hey, one more question before you fall asleep."

"Okay."

"If we're mama and papa, what does that make you and 4?"

3 smiled again. "I'm son; she's daughter." The last question answered for now, he finally closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.

7 sighed. "This is the life," she said.

"It's going to be interesting," 9 added. "Hey… Does it seem quieter to you?"

The familiar pounding of the rain on the ceiling had dropped by a few decibels. The sudden change after so many weeks made an unbelievable impact on the space around them.

"Is it stopping?" 7 asked cautiously.

"I hope so," 9 said, another vague answer to a valid question.

"What if it doesn't stop?"

"There's a lot that we can learn from them; that should keep us busy for a lifetime."

"That's a long time; but at least we'll be together."

It wasn't like 7 to be optimistic like that; 9 took that as a good sign.

"Get some more rest," he suggested. "Who knows when we'll be here again."

"You're a really good guy," 7 smiled. "If this Jesus is anything like you, I'll be more than willing to give him my soul." She leaned over 3 and gave 9 a kiss before lying back down.

She's changing, he thought, feeling proud of her. It's slow and comes in short, sudden bursts, but it's happening. With 4 still clinging to him, he also lay down and listened to the muted drumming high above them. It seemed to him like it was getting softer still.

Life is good… he thought as he drifted to sleep.

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Author's Notes…

Wow, this has been a BLAST to write! It turned out to be a lot more involved than I had expected when I conceived the idea the other week.

Let me cite some sources: the first Bible passage is Genesis 1:1-3; the second passage is Galatians 4:4-8; the last one is, indeed, Philippians 4:7. For reference, I've used an online King James site called king-james-online.o-r-g. (there are no hyphens; this is just the only way FF will register the cite name.)

Disclaimer: I'm not a theologian. This story is just what I think personally. I hope I've inspired you to think about stuff and come to your own conclusions about things, and I hope that you have as much fun at it as I have.

Also thanks to Dave Matthews Band for supplying the soundtrack and to my little cousin for pressuring me to get it done.

Thanks for the support!

~Freida