caiusbackup (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
caiusbackup) wrote2012-06-01 07:25 pm
caiusbackup) wrote2012-06-01 07:25 pm
FIC: Coming Out, After Molly, DC Comics, Alan Scott, T
ETA: Now version 1.1! Realized Jen's section needed a little more.
Coming Out, After Molly (1173 words) by
Caius
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Green Lantern (Comic), Justice Society of America (Comics)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warning: Major Character Death
Relationships: Molly Mayne-Scott/Alan Scott, Alan Scott/Original Male Character, Jay Garrick/Joan Garrick, Damon Matthews/Todd Rice
Characters: Alan Scott, Molly Mayne-Scott, Jay Garrick, Joan Garrick, Todd Rice, Jennifer-Lynn Hayden, Ted Grant, Damon Matthews
Acknowledgements: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
harmonyangel for beta and encouragement!
Summary:
DC just announced that the new version of Alan Scott is gay; but also a completely rebooted character, whose wives were never married to him and whose children never existed.
This is the Alan Scott of the Intercrisis period, post-COIE, pre-new 52, recently widowed, finally coming out. An experiment in having an old, established character come out without completely changing the nature of that character. (Rated "Major Character Death" for Molly Mayne-Scott. Alan would never forgive me otherwise.)
Molly would have understood, and Alan wished--desperately--that she was still here to explain it to him.
Molly had always understood Alan better than Alan did. Maybe--eventually--Alan had understood her as well, but she'd always delighted in her mysteries.
He knelt before the grave--"Molly Mayne Scott, The Harlequin, Beloved Hero and Wife," and said nothing.
He left behind a rose, and was careful not to touch the wood of the tree they had buried her under.
*****
"Jay," Alan said, "I'm gay."
Jay Garrick was up and dressed before Alan finished his name, ready for an emergency--but he sat down again when he heard what Alan had to say. "Okay," he said--of course there was no fuss, not with Jay Garrick. "Do you want to talk about it? Do you want help telling the kids? The team?"
"Not really," said Alan. He hadn't thought quite that far. How many people did he have to tell? "You can tell Joan though."
"Tell Joan what?" Joan Garrick lifted herself slowly from the pillows, her husband's arm behind her shoulders in an instant. Jay had been lucky--Joan was old, old as Jay, older than Molly, but still alive, and still lucid.
"Joan," Jay said, after a second. "Alan is gay."
"Oh," Joan said, and smiled. "Congratulations."
"Thank you," Alan said, and left his friends to their sleep.
*****
"Are you sure you don't mean bi?" Jennie-Lynn asked him, over coffee, at a civilized hour.
"Why would I mean that?" Alan asked, frowning. He didn't like being contradicted.
"You know--bisexual. Interested in both men and women." She sipped her flavored coffee drink casually, and for a moment Alan felt completely lost with this young person--worse than lost, because he hardly looked old enough to be Jen's father anymore.
Was she right? He thought about women--pushing aside the thought of Jen--and just found himself thinking of Molly, friend and companion and spouse for thirty years of his life, secretary and secret enemy and even more secret ally, bright and alive--he stopped.
"Maybe," he allowed. "I loved a woman. I still love her. But I don't know if that means I'm interested in women." Not in the way he'd just admitted to being interested in men--an interest that he would never, ever describe to his daughter. Maybe he should have asked Jay and Joan what word to use for himself. He wished he could have asked Molly.
"You loved Molly," Jen said, and she seemed relieved. "What about--what about our mother?"
"I don't know," Alan said, flatly. "I thought for years she hated me, after she left." Jen looked at him, appalled, and leaned over to touch him pityingly. He took her hand in his, firmly. "I'll always love you. You and Todd. As best I can."
"And I'll always love you. Both of you. Todd--have you told him yet? Do you want me--?" She squeezed his hand.
"I'll manage," said Alan, standing up and pushing back from the table to let her hug him.
"Thanks for telling me, Dad," she said, holding him tight.
And, sitting down and resuming his coffee and dignity, Alan changed the subject. "How are you doing? Any new modeling gigs?"
*****
He called ahead and Damon Matthews excitedly proposed that the three of them have dinner together, at their home. Alan's courage broke, for a moment, staring at the salad his son's partner made with several plant species he could have sworn didn't exist when he was Todd's age.
He told Damon it was good. He wasn't sure he could tell anymore; mostly he was just glad it didn't come in a wooden bowl. Damon beamed.
Todd relaxed, slightly. "I saw Gotham Broadcasting Company stocks are up 1.2% today." Finances were about the safest common interest they had.
Alan put down his fork. "Todd, I'm gay."
Todd dropped his fork and stared. "No. No, you can't be. I'm gay." Todd's shadow deepened; Alan's Starheart glowed.
"Todd--" Damon said, and put a hand on Todd's shoulder. Alan almost leapt up, knowing how dangerous Obsidian could be, but Todd sighed and relaxed into Damon's touch.
"This had better not be some--stupid--attempt at father/son bonding," Todd said, catching Damon's other hand in his own.
"No!" Alan said, "It's nothing to do with you. I just thought you should know. And not find out from the news."
"Well," said Damon. "I'm happy for him. Being gay is great! Is there someone you're going to be introducing us to?"
"Not yet," Alan said. Probably never, he thought, watching Todd and Damon in slight envy. An--entity--like him would never be lucky enough to find someone he could bring home to his family, ever again.
"Well," said Todd, finally, shrugging off Damon. "I better take the quiche out of the oven."
*****
"Ya know," said Ted Grant, leaning casually against the bar, "this would work better if ya'd say yes once in awhile.
"You don't have to wait for me," Alan said, sitting stiffly on the barstool and watching the young men dance--or whatever it was they were doing.
Ted clapped him on the shoulder. "Alan, my man--I can get laid any night on the year, tonight is for you! None of these guys appeal to you? Should we try another bar?"
"No," Alan said immediately, before he figured out quite what he was saying no to. It was usually the best policy with Ted in this mood. He didn't want to move, anyway--he liked watching. He just didn't belong in the middle of it.
When the man walked over, Alan was sure he was heading for Ted--he looked old and rough like Ted, nothing like Alan's unnatural youth. He looked durable, with worry-lines and silver temples and muscles that might even have come from work and not a gym.
Alan stepped in front of Ted, and approached the other man. "Would you like to dance?"
They really danced for awhile, too--they took turns leading--and what happened after, Ted Grant could speculate about and his children would never, ever know.
Unless Molly--but, no, he reminded himself. Molly wasn't there, no longer watching him, no longer making sense of his life.
*****
If Alan had been a major celebrity, an interview would have been in order; but he wasn't, so he just went down to the GBC, put the press releases into the appropriate boxes, and went back to work.
He could hear--or imagines he could hear, anyway--the news as it passed through the offices, gossip of the day--but the Gotham Broadcasting Company had had gays and lesbians in its non-discrimination policy for seventeen years now, so a gay boss shouldn't have been any different than a straight boss.
He let them have an extra-long coffee break and sent out for more donuts, though, when they all seemed to want to congratulate him.
*****
Jay showed up at his place the next night. "The JSA kids want to throw you a party. A 'Coming Out Ball'. Should I stop them?"
"A Coming Out Ball?--Should I worry about débutante gowns, or do they even know what débutante is?" Alan asked, incredulous.
Jay shrugged. "I'm sure I don't know. But I can promise to help fight off anyone who tries to put you in a gown."
Alan sighed. "I suppose I can survive one 'ball,' if it'll make the children happy." His cape swirled around his back, dramatically, as he switched to his full Green Lantern uniform. One ought to be properly dressed. "I had not expected so many parties. I wish Molly could be here."
"Me too," said Jay, honestly, as if there were no contradiction. They walked, side-by-side, to the party.
Coming Out, After Molly (1173 words) by
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Green Lantern (Comic), Justice Society of America (Comics)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warning: Major Character Death
Relationships: Molly Mayne-Scott/Alan Scott, Alan Scott/Original Male Character, Jay Garrick/Joan Garrick, Damon Matthews/Todd Rice
Characters: Alan Scott, Molly Mayne-Scott, Jay Garrick, Joan Garrick, Todd Rice, Jennifer-Lynn Hayden, Ted Grant, Damon Matthews
Acknowledgements: Thanks to
harmonyangel for beta and encouragement!Summary:
DC just announced that the new version of Alan Scott is gay; but also a completely rebooted character, whose wives were never married to him and whose children never existed.
This is the Alan Scott of the Intercrisis period, post-COIE, pre-new 52, recently widowed, finally coming out. An experiment in having an old, established character come out without completely changing the nature of that character. (Rated "Major Character Death" for Molly Mayne-Scott. Alan would never forgive me otherwise.)
Molly would have understood, and Alan wished--desperately--that she was still here to explain it to him.
Molly had always understood Alan better than Alan did. Maybe--eventually--Alan had understood her as well, but she'd always delighted in her mysteries.
He knelt before the grave--"Molly Mayne Scott, The Harlequin, Beloved Hero and Wife," and said nothing.
He left behind a rose, and was careful not to touch the wood of the tree they had buried her under.
*****
"Jay," Alan said, "I'm gay."
Jay Garrick was up and dressed before Alan finished his name, ready for an emergency--but he sat down again when he heard what Alan had to say. "Okay," he said--of course there was no fuss, not with Jay Garrick. "Do you want to talk about it? Do you want help telling the kids? The team?"
"Not really," said Alan. He hadn't thought quite that far. How many people did he have to tell? "You can tell Joan though."
"Tell Joan what?" Joan Garrick lifted herself slowly from the pillows, her husband's arm behind her shoulders in an instant. Jay had been lucky--Joan was old, old as Jay, older than Molly, but still alive, and still lucid.
"Joan," Jay said, after a second. "Alan is gay."
"Oh," Joan said, and smiled. "Congratulations."
"Thank you," Alan said, and left his friends to their sleep.
*****
"Are you sure you don't mean bi?" Jennie-Lynn asked him, over coffee, at a civilized hour.
"Why would I mean that?" Alan asked, frowning. He didn't like being contradicted.
"You know--bisexual. Interested in both men and women." She sipped her flavored coffee drink casually, and for a moment Alan felt completely lost with this young person--worse than lost, because he hardly looked old enough to be Jen's father anymore.
Was she right? He thought about women--pushing aside the thought of Jen--and just found himself thinking of Molly, friend and companion and spouse for thirty years of his life, secretary and secret enemy and even more secret ally, bright and alive--he stopped.
"Maybe," he allowed. "I loved a woman. I still love her. But I don't know if that means I'm interested in women." Not in the way he'd just admitted to being interested in men--an interest that he would never, ever describe to his daughter. Maybe he should have asked Jay and Joan what word to use for himself. He wished he could have asked Molly.
"You loved Molly," Jen said, and she seemed relieved. "What about--what about our mother?"
"I don't know," Alan said, flatly. "I thought for years she hated me, after she left." Jen looked at him, appalled, and leaned over to touch him pityingly. He took her hand in his, firmly. "I'll always love you. You and Todd. As best I can."
"And I'll always love you. Both of you. Todd--have you told him yet? Do you want me--?" She squeezed his hand.
"I'll manage," said Alan, standing up and pushing back from the table to let her hug him.
"Thanks for telling me, Dad," she said, holding him tight.
And, sitting down and resuming his coffee and dignity, Alan changed the subject. "How are you doing? Any new modeling gigs?"
*****
He called ahead and Damon Matthews excitedly proposed that the three of them have dinner together, at their home. Alan's courage broke, for a moment, staring at the salad his son's partner made with several plant species he could have sworn didn't exist when he was Todd's age.
He told Damon it was good. He wasn't sure he could tell anymore; mostly he was just glad it didn't come in a wooden bowl. Damon beamed.
Todd relaxed, slightly. "I saw Gotham Broadcasting Company stocks are up 1.2% today." Finances were about the safest common interest they had.
Alan put down his fork. "Todd, I'm gay."
Todd dropped his fork and stared. "No. No, you can't be. I'm gay." Todd's shadow deepened; Alan's Starheart glowed.
"Todd--" Damon said, and put a hand on Todd's shoulder. Alan almost leapt up, knowing how dangerous Obsidian could be, but Todd sighed and relaxed into Damon's touch.
"This had better not be some--stupid--attempt at father/son bonding," Todd said, catching Damon's other hand in his own.
"No!" Alan said, "It's nothing to do with you. I just thought you should know. And not find out from the news."
"Well," said Damon. "I'm happy for him. Being gay is great! Is there someone you're going to be introducing us to?"
"Not yet," Alan said. Probably never, he thought, watching Todd and Damon in slight envy. An--entity--like him would never be lucky enough to find someone he could bring home to his family, ever again.
"Well," said Todd, finally, shrugging off Damon. "I better take the quiche out of the oven."
*****
"Ya know," said Ted Grant, leaning casually against the bar, "this would work better if ya'd say yes once in awhile.
"You don't have to wait for me," Alan said, sitting stiffly on the barstool and watching the young men dance--or whatever it was they were doing.
Ted clapped him on the shoulder. "Alan, my man--I can get laid any night on the year, tonight is for you! None of these guys appeal to you? Should we try another bar?"
"No," Alan said immediately, before he figured out quite what he was saying no to. It was usually the best policy with Ted in this mood. He didn't want to move, anyway--he liked watching. He just didn't belong in the middle of it.
When the man walked over, Alan was sure he was heading for Ted--he looked old and rough like Ted, nothing like Alan's unnatural youth. He looked durable, with worry-lines and silver temples and muscles that might even have come from work and not a gym.
Alan stepped in front of Ted, and approached the other man. "Would you like to dance?"
They really danced for awhile, too--they took turns leading--and what happened after, Ted Grant could speculate about and his children would never, ever know.
Unless Molly--but, no, he reminded himself. Molly wasn't there, no longer watching him, no longer making sense of his life.
*****
If Alan had been a major celebrity, an interview would have been in order; but he wasn't, so he just went down to the GBC, put the press releases into the appropriate boxes, and went back to work.
He could hear--or imagines he could hear, anyway--the news as it passed through the offices, gossip of the day--but the Gotham Broadcasting Company had had gays and lesbians in its non-discrimination policy for seventeen years now, so a gay boss shouldn't have been any different than a straight boss.
He let them have an extra-long coffee break and sent out for more donuts, though, when they all seemed to want to congratulate him.
*****
Jay showed up at his place the next night. "The JSA kids want to throw you a party. A 'Coming Out Ball'. Should I stop them?"
"A Coming Out Ball?--Should I worry about débutante gowns, or do they even know what débutante is?" Alan asked, incredulous.
Jay shrugged. "I'm sure I don't know. But I can promise to help fight off anyone who tries to put you in a gown."
Alan sighed. "I suppose I can survive one 'ball,' if it'll make the children happy." His cape swirled around his back, dramatically, as he switched to his full Green Lantern uniform. One ought to be properly dressed. "I had not expected so many parties. I wish Molly could be here."
"Me too," said Jay, honestly, as if there were no contradiction. They walked, side-by-side, to the party.