[That stings...and it shouldn't have been that way. Not if it was the way she said it was--he said it was. Because supposedly, Scout was really a guy, and he was really a girl, and those really were his clothes in that closet.
...so why had any of it happened at all?
Shaking himself a little, Alan focuses on the jeans in his hands, then glances at Scout, where she's holding a pair of jeans for herself.]
No, it wasn't. [And it should have been...he shakes his head with a sigh.] No...Gerard still forged that note, and he still tried to kill me.
[The bitterness is thick in his tone, and the name falls from his lips with such a chill he feels the ice form on his lips. He can still remember being there, watching the moment his mother had been bitten. He still remembers his father telling him they'd handle it.
He'd been horrified when she took her own life...but he hadn't mourned her. Not until Gerard had presented him with his mother's suicide note with instructions to burn it...
And everything he'd always needed to hear his mother say was there. How much she loved him, how much she regretted her inability to show him the depth of it. How the women in their family had to be hard and strong, and that too often their loved ones suffered for that fortitude needed to lead.
How that, even though he'd never been the daughter she wanted, he was one of the finest men she'd ever known, and that he had to live for her...to be the man his father would need to see her death had meaning.
All he'd ever wanted was his mother's love...and it had driven him to do unspeakable things to the only people that really mattered, only to find out that Gerard had written it himself.
That she'd died in her own room. That his grandfather had kissed her forehead, that she'd died in his father's arms, but didn't even stop by his room to tell him to have fun at Lydia's birthday party before he left that night.
That he'd never been worth anything to her, save for his skill as a hunter. And that wasn't worth even a note.]
AWKWARD EX SPAM
...so why had any of it happened at all?
Shaking himself a little, Alan focuses on the jeans in his hands, then glances at Scout, where she's holding a pair of jeans for herself.]
No, it wasn't. [And it should have been...he shakes his head with a sigh.] No...Gerard still forged that note, and he still tried to kill me.
[The bitterness is thick in his tone, and the name falls from his lips with such a chill he feels the ice form on his lips. He can still remember being there, watching the moment his mother had been bitten. He still remembers his father telling him they'd handle it.
He'd been horrified when she took her own life...but he hadn't mourned her. Not until Gerard had presented him with his mother's suicide note with instructions to burn it...
And everything he'd always needed to hear his mother say was there. How much she loved him, how much she regretted her inability to show him the depth of it. How the women in their family had to be hard and strong, and that too often their loved ones suffered for that fortitude needed to lead.
How that, even though he'd never been the daughter she wanted, he was one of the finest men she'd ever known, and that he had to live for her...to be the man his father would need to see her death had meaning.
All he'd ever wanted was his mother's love...and it had driven him to do unspeakable things to the only people that really mattered, only to find out that Gerard had written it himself.
That she'd died in her own room. That his grandfather had kissed her forehead, that she'd died in his father's arms, but didn't even stop by his room to tell him to have fun at Lydia's birthday party before he left that night.
That he'd never been worth anything to her, save for his skill as a hunter. And that wasn't worth even a note.]