Title: Making Small Talk
Summary: The Other Mother sighs softly. She picks up one of her needles, sharp as a knife and thin as a hair. She quietly flicks her finger against it to let you hear the sound. You know she built you wrong, too much like the other – or should you say the Real – Wybie, but you like the way you are. Drabble.
Notes: Usually don't post stories for other fandoms, but a friend wanted to read this. May or may not take it down in a week. Even though I describe the Other Wybie as being made of sawdust, I more inclined to think he was made of dirt from the Other Mother's garden actually.
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Coraline.
"Coraline visited us today," the Other Mother remarks to you in her falsely kind voice.
You look up at her; even through the button eyes she made you with, she looks frightening most of the time. But not at the moment; her red smile is spread across her face. Her face is plump and rosy. She has had life breathed into her, now that she has been given someone to love once again.
You shift uncomfortably in the cockroach chair she insisted you sit down in. "Oh, uh, really?" you remark. "That's cool…"
The Other Mother sighs softly. She picks up one of her needles, sharp as a knife and thin as a hair. She quietly flicks her finger against it to let you hear the sound. You know she built you wrong, too much like the other – or should you say the Real – Wybie, but you like the way you are.
"Of course, you should know, Wybie. You watched us from the window, didn't you?" She turns to you with a sweet, soft smile that shouldn't elicit the wave of fear that rolls down your back.
"Um, I…"
"Oh don't be shy!" she insists, her smile growing wider. She places the needle down gently and picks up the pink box filled with cockroach chocolates. "Want one?" she offers warmly. You shake your head no. Without moving a single face muscle, she just shrugs and sets the box down. Her white hand seeks out the needle once more.
She begins to flick it again, and you feel yourself flinching every time you hear the soft chink.
"You like her, don't you, Wybie?" she asks sweetly. You feel your face flush red. She should know that already, shouldn't she? You're one of the two things in this world made for the purpose of loving her. She laughs softly. "I knew it! Such a precious," chink, "sweet," chink, "darling girl, don't you agree? Who wouldn't love her?"
The Other Mother turns to face you. "But just so you know, she's mine," she teases, and then laughs again. It was meant to be said in a joking manner, but you could hear the slight undercurrent of dead-serious possessiveness.
She stands up abruptly. You rise to your feet as well, but she pushes your shoulder so you are forced back into your seat.
"Of course, we need to make Coraline as happy as possible here," she muses. The needle is still in her hand, and is it your imagination or has it grown sharper?
"I think, Wybie, you'd be more favorable if you were just a little quieter; you see, Coraline doesn't like it very much when the Real Wybie talks," she says lightly. Once more, you fidget in your seat.
"Okay…so you want me to, like, talk less?" you ask. For the third time, the Other Mother laughs.
"Oh, no, Wybie. I'll take care if it for you." Still holding the needle, she reaches into her apron pocket. She pulls out a spool of red thread. She begins to approach you, and your sawdust stomach plunges as you realize what her intent is.
"Please…don't –" you beg weakly, beginning to lean away. She seizes your face between one of her hands; her nails pierce your cheek. You begin to thrash about, trying to escape. "I won't talk at all! I promise!" you plead.
"Wyborne, don't be like that," she chastises kindly. "I really think this is in my daughter's best interests…and this is what she wants. You want to make Coraline happy, don't you?"
At the words, you freeze for a split second, and then go limp. Yes, that is what you want. You want to see her happy, you want to her smile. You close your button eyes tightly. You bet the Beldam is smirking with satisfaction right now.
"Open wide, Wybie," she tells you sweetly.
The End
