Perfection

Summary: In the midst of a fight, the two siblings realize that perfection might not be that perfect after all. More of a drabble than a story, really.


I don't remember how the fight started. All I know is that I feel this… pressure on my chest, choking me. It hurts. What kind of pain is this? Guilt? Or just plain sadness? It hurts. And yet we're still fighting.

"You don't get to complain!" He shakes his head at me. There are no tears in his eyes, but a bitterness and pain that makes my chest hurt even more. Just because I am miserable it didn't mean he has to be too. "You're perfect. The perfect son! Everything mom and dad would want you to be!"

"And who's happier?" I yell at him, tears threatening to spill. No. No crying. You've got to be strong. You won't cry in front of other people. Never. "Out of the two of us, who is happier? Huh?"

His expression changes to numb shock. Those big eyes of his are staring at me, wide and confused. I rub my eyes with my middle fingers, trying to keep my emotions at bay. Finally, I said it. I said what I've been meaning to say every time people seemed to envy me for being so perfect.

"Wh-what do you mean?" He stammers, still in shock. "What are you talking about?"

I sniff pitifully, a sad smile on my lips. "Think about it. Which one of us is happier? You get to have fun and I… I get… I have to keep living up to everyone's great expectations of me. And they keep getting higher and higher! Everyone thinks I'll… I'll be great one day or something! And if I don't? Then I'll be the sad little kid who got lost somewhere along the way! Oh, what a pity," I mock in a high pitched voice. "Which one of us is happier, brother?"

"Me…" He mutters, eyes filled with pity. I hate that look.

I turn away from him, biting my lip until I draw blood.

"Hey… It doesn't matter," he whispers softly, reaching out for me. As he pulls me in a hug, I hear him say "For what is worth, I still love you."

And so we end up spending the next five minutes with me crying on his shoulder, while he holds me tight, waiting for me to get a hold of myself. What if I'm not supposed to cry? I need to have at least one person I can open up to.

Because after all…

nobody's perfect.


A/N: Yeah… So… In the beginning I thought this could be either Artemis/Myles or Myles/Beckett (hence the lack of names), but that sort of fell apart by the end. This is actually based on an actual conversation I witnessed or took part in (I won't get into the details) and might be taken down because \ the real thing was way too emotional to be presented like this. Though this is actually an exaggerated version. The actual one was way more civilized.

Anyway, please leave a review and tell me what you think!