wolfgang von strucker does not sparkle (ex_fresia490) wrote in superbabies, @ 2013-05-15 17:37:00 |
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Wolfgang had no family. This wasn’t a fact that ever bothered him. Coming from such a disaster of a family never really left him to grieve, ever. Andreas and Andrea were not ideal parents, as much as one of them tried. His mother died early, then came back and was pretty much considered dead to him at that point anyway.
His father wasn’t a shining emblem of grace. Andreas was... bad, essentially, but Wolfgang always thought he tried. Their test-tube of a child just hadn’t been so great. When he was born he was sick, a rare form of anemia. Something that couldn’t be cured, really, it would kill him. It was hard for the once stoic man to watch his son die in a hospital bed. Von Struckers were proud, they followed the leadership of the Third Reich. They were out to cleanse the word of evil and sickness and impure thoughts and there was his tiny son, weak and broken, unable to leave a hospital bed.
Growing up hadn’t been so bad, either. Wolfgang had been used to the doctors and their puzzled expressions each time they tried to “cure” him. There had been the transfusions, yeah, and the unexplainable anemia. There had been different cocktails of experimental drugs. Nothing worked in the long run. First they thought it was a rare form of anemia, Fanconi’s, but that was usually prevalent in persons of African or Southeast Asian descent. Wolfgang was white. White as white could get. Doctors surmised that it could be that his parents shared so many genetics that did this.
Nothing ever worked, either way. It just prolonged the agony. He would lay there, draped in white or blue sheets, pale eyes transfixed at the ceiling while more needles went in, out. Wolfgang learned long ago to not cry. Crying never made it go away.
Then his body fixed it for him and suddenly that once angelic child was a demon to his father. A thing of nightmares, creatures that lurked in the night. Simply because his body cured him for him. It mutated, shaped and formed a system to protect him, keep him safe and most of all, let him live.
Life. Life was amazing when he started to see. Colors and people, all these gorgeous things he had otherwise been held back from. Suddenly he was alive and vibrant! God had wanted him to live, God had given him a mutation that made him stronger, faster. Long gone was the weak system, the doctors and hospitals.
Yet Andreas was still afraid. He bought a house in East Germany, no one would think to look there, and shuttered his son away. Gone was a mother, replaced by dozens of house maids. They took pity on him but when he got hungry he had accidents. Wolfgang learned to clear them up, his vague compulsion helped the lies. Never could it help the guilt of knowing he wounded the mother of a child somewhere, waiting for her to come home safe.
Everyone feared him.
Then she came back and she feared him. Didn’t want him. A demon lost among the people, trying to find a family. The one piece he had left didn’t want him.
When mother’s day came he was himself. He had forgotten until someone mentioned dinner with their family, Dr Lady Starmore's new child, the fresh announcement of Bex’s child. Suddenly he remembered and withdrew a little, recalling when he finally met her.
He had asked her to stay. Wolfgang hadn’t been tall then, he was still a little spindly in the arms and never went outside. When Andrea showed up he clung to her and called her mother, my mom, mommy. She couldn’t handle it. Having a son wasn’t in her memory. Having this tiny blood sucking creature want her to nurture him wasn’t in her plans. Andrea plucked him off into the arms of another and walked away.
Alone was how he learned to handle things. His parents rejection of him was how he learned tolerance. Just because their doctrine said he was Wrong didn’t mean he was. Wolfgang couldn’t judge others because of how harshly he was judged after his mutation evolved. When sweet Sophie came into his life it was like a light went on. Wolfgang hadn’t felt care or love or attention in so long that he soaped it up. All of it. Hakeem’s kindness too. And he broke it. He broke it because he was broken and evil.
Then he fixed it. Confronting his fears, dealing with his problems. Realizing that hermitude was the wrong solution brought him back; that he wasn’t an Evil Being but rather as God had planned him, right down to his bloodlust. God said to Love and so he wanted to Love. He didn’t want to Judge or Persecute people. That was not his position in life. Wolfgang knew what that was like. He wanted to Live, to experience Life.
He was still sad though. Mother’s Day was supposed to be a joyous day; why mar it with his own sadness? Let it be happy, he reasoned, and be sad another day. Wolfgang chose Wednesday, a nondescript day for feelings of morose.
Later he went out. Flowers for Sophie and Miu, things to make the women he loved in his life feel special. Dinner with Hakeem and Yassir and Lux. Things to make the fleeting realization that he had no blood family less.
Things to help him hold his friends, his real family, closer. They were what mattered and would always matter.