AN: Hello to everyone, it's been a while since I last wrote something decent enough to post here. At any case, I hope you'll enjoy this series of one shots, each in a different writing style, each inspired by a different thing. And yes, my job is very boring.
Title: Dolls
Rating: k+
Inspiration: "Black hole sun" by Soundgarden
Genre: mild angst
Dolls
They looked like dolls.
Always smiling, always happy, always Plastic Perfect dolls.
Erik can't help but compare the siblings to the manikins popping from nowhere during their training.
Raven, with her wavy, long, blond hair and always moist lips, looked like one of those expensive porcelain dolls his mother used to collect before the war.
That thought made him feel weird.
He didn't dwell on it.
She dressed like a doll, the Raven girl. Her eyes were fake like a doll.
Charles reminded him of a painting.
A happy child who doesn't know despair. Always perfectly dressed, not a hair out of place.
Always standing in the perfect posture, not too stiff but not too limp.
Always smiling, excited by everyone and everything.
The perfect man who had everything.
He watched as Raven led the tour in the mansion, looking like a royal princess.
He watched as Charles trained with each one of his fellow mutants, beaming with warmth, pride and joy.
They really looked like dolls at first, and Erik never played with dolls.
Delicate porcelain dolls.
Only later on, it occurred to him, he saw cracks in his perfect dolls.
He noticed how Charles mentioned his father on occasions. His father built the underground area where he trained Alex to control his destructive abilities, from fear of nuclear war.
His father owned this chess set, Charles favorite.
His father died when he was young.
He never talked about his mother, Erik noticed.
He noticed Raven looking at her reflection, when she thought no one was looking. Pure hate radiating from her beautiful eyes.
It looked as though it took her a moment or two to recognize her own face. Erik didn't understand why.
When Hank talked about a "cure" to her physical problem, Erik felt his stomach wrenching with anger.
He doesn't think she's sick, she needs no cure. She is perfect in his eyes.
She never wore blue, Erik noticed.
"What did you just do to me?" Erik asked, traces of a happy Hanukkah still played in front of his tearful eyes.
Charles inhaled, "I accessed the brightest corner of your memory system" He explained, his big blue eyes shone with tears of his own. "It's a very beautiful memory Erik, thank you"
And Erik noticed how foreign the small act of endearment between a child and a mother was to the up coming professor.
Charles never talked about his mother.
Erik pushes these thoughts to the back of his mind, it's too late to reminisce.
He holds in his arms an injured, limp, bleeding Charles.
The bullet tucked safely in his trembling fist.
Raven is standing in the background somewhere. Her blue hands cover her true face in shock.
Things all around them explode and fall.
"I'm sorry my friend" Charles spits in the air, barely able to ignore the pain in his back. Tears run down his chicks.
"But we do not"
They looked like dolls to him.
Perfect plastic dolls.
But Erik never played with dolls.
It's not his fault he broke them.
Fin
Thank you for reading, and as always, constructive criticism is welcome.