Cathryn (formerly catslash) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
remindmeofthe) wrote2004-06-24 12:30 am
remindmeofthe) wrote2004-06-24 12:30 am
I wrote fic!
Not to get too excited about the whole thing, but since this is the first non-challenge fic I've written in longer than I care to think about, I think I'm entitled to get a little worked up.
. . . SQUEE.
TITLE: "An Understanding"
AUTHOR: Cathryn (askewnislasher@yahoo.com)
FANDOM: Back to the Future
PAIRING: George/Marty
RATING: PG for slashy content, and I suppose a mild incest warning is in order as well. So: MILD INCEST WARNING.
SUMMARY: How hard can it really be to ask a simple question?
DISCLAIMER: Back to the Future was created by Bob Gale and Robert Zemeckis. I had nothing to do with it and shall see no profit.
.
Though it's a lot easier for George to step up and ask questions than it used to be, he still gets nervous. The very thought of drawing attention to himself, of announcing to the world that he has the nerve to make demands on another person's time and brainpower, can be intimidating. The difference is, he's learned not to let that stop him.
But asking this one is the very worst. Though it's a short sentence requiring only a yes or answer, it sticks tight in his throat. Every time an opportune silence falls, his stomach twists and his heart pounds as he silently practices the best light tone and casual expression. And just as he thinks he's got it right, someone else starts talking and he loses the chance yet again.
And his nervousness about this question is not just a product of his insecurity. Doctor Brown doesn't like it when he asks after Marty. He's never openly hostile on the subject, of course, that's not in his nature. But whenever George speaks the other boy's name, the scientist's bright eyes and smile falter for just a second before he gives the answer - always the same - with a flatness that startles in its contrast to his usual enthusiasm.
But George knows he's getting off lightly. Doctor Brown was furious when he found them together that morning. George had never seen anyone so angry, and was guiltily relieved that Doctor Brown's rage was directed at Marty rather than him. In fact, when he drove George home, the speech he gave (full of all the things Marty had already said, about how they could only have one night, and they must pretend to be normal for their own protection, and everything else that broke George's heart because it was true) was gentle and sympathetic, and even capped off with an assurance that he believed George to be a good boy. George understood this to mean that he was to pretend that he wanted to date Lorraine, and that the events of the night were not to be discussed again.
He did his best to be that good boy after that, and found that pretending was not that hard. As the time passed and much of it was spent with Lorraine, the pretending turned real. On the day that her smile melted him (almost) as much as Marty's had, he asked her to marry him and felt honest joy when she said yes.
And though he cannot help thinking of that night, he never speaks of it. He hasn't told Lorraine, and in fact prefers to avoid the subject of Marty as much as he can. But when he asks the question, Doctor Brown's reaction makes it all too clear that he is breaking that unspoken rule.
He wants very much to stop asking. Then he wouldn't have to dread it anymore. Then he might be able to converse with Doctor Brown as freely as Lorraine does. He likes the older man, and envies how comfortable she is with him.
But he wants the answer even more. And most of all, he wants for the answer to be different one day.
He helps Lorraine into her coat and she steps outside ahead of him, eager to escape the mysterious fumes that always seem to be drifting through the Brown mansion. For a few seconds, he and Doctor Brown are alone and he finally conquers his anxiety. He takes a deep breath; Doctor Brown winces in anticipation. Earlier this might have thrown George off, but now at the end of the visit he has been waiting too long so he plunges ahead.
"Have you heard from Marty?"
"No."
But this time, Doctor Brown hesitates before he answers, seems on the verge of saying something else, and when he doesn't he cannot meet George's eyes. George sucks in a breath as realization hits.
Doctor Brown is lying to him. Has been lying to him.
"Oh," he says, then, "I see."
"George . . ."
"No." The words try to arrange themselves in his head, about trust and honesty and kind words to a confused boy, but they tangle together and he is left to splutter, "I - goodbye," before he runs to the car with his coat still clutched in his hands.
. . . SQUEE.
TITLE: "An Understanding"
AUTHOR: Cathryn (askewnislasher@yahoo.com)
FANDOM: Back to the Future
PAIRING: George/Marty
RATING: PG for slashy content, and I suppose a mild incest warning is in order as well. So: MILD INCEST WARNING.
SUMMARY: How hard can it really be to ask a simple question?
DISCLAIMER: Back to the Future was created by Bob Gale and Robert Zemeckis. I had nothing to do with it and shall see no profit.
.
Though it's a lot easier for George to step up and ask questions than it used to be, he still gets nervous. The very thought of drawing attention to himself, of announcing to the world that he has the nerve to make demands on another person's time and brainpower, can be intimidating. The difference is, he's learned not to let that stop him.
But asking this one is the very worst. Though it's a short sentence requiring only a yes or answer, it sticks tight in his throat. Every time an opportune silence falls, his stomach twists and his heart pounds as he silently practices the best light tone and casual expression. And just as he thinks he's got it right, someone else starts talking and he loses the chance yet again.
And his nervousness about this question is not just a product of his insecurity. Doctor Brown doesn't like it when he asks after Marty. He's never openly hostile on the subject, of course, that's not in his nature. But whenever George speaks the other boy's name, the scientist's bright eyes and smile falter for just a second before he gives the answer - always the same - with a flatness that startles in its contrast to his usual enthusiasm.
But George knows he's getting off lightly. Doctor Brown was furious when he found them together that morning. George had never seen anyone so angry, and was guiltily relieved that Doctor Brown's rage was directed at Marty rather than him. In fact, when he drove George home, the speech he gave (full of all the things Marty had already said, about how they could only have one night, and they must pretend to be normal for their own protection, and everything else that broke George's heart because it was true) was gentle and sympathetic, and even capped off with an assurance that he believed George to be a good boy. George understood this to mean that he was to pretend that he wanted to date Lorraine, and that the events of the night were not to be discussed again.
He did his best to be that good boy after that, and found that pretending was not that hard. As the time passed and much of it was spent with Lorraine, the pretending turned real. On the day that her smile melted him (almost) as much as Marty's had, he asked her to marry him and felt honest joy when she said yes.
And though he cannot help thinking of that night, he never speaks of it. He hasn't told Lorraine, and in fact prefers to avoid the subject of Marty as much as he can. But when he asks the question, Doctor Brown's reaction makes it all too clear that he is breaking that unspoken rule.
He wants very much to stop asking. Then he wouldn't have to dread it anymore. Then he might be able to converse with Doctor Brown as freely as Lorraine does. He likes the older man, and envies how comfortable she is with him.
But he wants the answer even more. And most of all, he wants for the answer to be different one day.
He helps Lorraine into her coat and she steps outside ahead of him, eager to escape the mysterious fumes that always seem to be drifting through the Brown mansion. For a few seconds, he and Doctor Brown are alone and he finally conquers his anxiety. He takes a deep breath; Doctor Brown winces in anticipation. Earlier this might have thrown George off, but now at the end of the visit he has been waiting too long so he plunges ahead.
"Have you heard from Marty?"
"No."
But this time, Doctor Brown hesitates before he answers, seems on the verge of saying something else, and when he doesn't he cannot meet George's eyes. George sucks in a breath as realization hits.
Doctor Brown is lying to him. Has been lying to him.
"Oh," he says, then, "I see."
"George . . ."
"No." The words try to arrange themselves in his head, about trust and honesty and kind words to a confused boy, but they tangle together and he is left to splutter, "I - goodbye," before he runs to the car with his coat still clutched in his hands.