[fic] Y the Last Man: Untitled [Dr. Matsumori; Allison Mann]
Title:
Fandom: Y the Last Man
Rating: PG/PG-13
Words: 1024
Spoilers: End of Series
Featured Characters: Dr. Matsumori (Mommy Mann); Allison Mann
Disclaimer: All characters owned by Brian K. Vaughan.
Notes: SPOILERS! Highlight to read: This is born out of an ongoing fascination with the idea of Rose, Allison, and Mommy Mann living together and raising the clones, all the while Allison is trying to figure out how to clone men. This has the potential for all sorts of in-law, clone, love, and family issues. It's all sorta been swimming in my head since the end of the series, so maybe some stories will come out of it.
It struck Dr. Matsumori as she was putting the youngest of her daughter’s clones to bed, feeling again the softness of her daughter’s hair at age two and seeing the unknowing innocence in her sleeping face, just how her husband could have copied their daughter again and again and again. She knew what it felt like to suddenly desire the chance to do it all over, to raise her daughter right, without all the bullshit, anger, and fear of her crumbling marriage. A chance to get to be more involved, to get to know her better, to-
But that wasn’t how it worked.
Dr. Matsumori smoothed down Hachi-go’s hair and left the room quietly, taking one last look around to make sure the others had settled. She wandered into the lab, turning off lights in rooms that were unoccupied as she went along, and wasn’t surprised to find her daughter-the one she’d born herself and not that witch Ming-bent over a microscope.
She stood quietly in the door watching Ayuko for a time. The bioengineer wore a look of extreme concentration, squinting behind her glasses. When Ayuko leaned back to jot down a note, she noticed her.
“Mom!” she said in Chinese, a hand fluttering to her chest. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” Dr. Matsumori crossed the room to her daughter’s side and glanced down at the open notebook, pretending that she didn’t notice that her daughter was restraining herself from covering up her notes.
“Still working?” she asked mildly.
Ayuko rubbed her eyes and asked, “What time is it?”
“Almost ten. I just put Hachi to sleep.”
Ayuko nodded in a distracted way. She was uneasy when talk about her clones came up. They all were. None of them were sure how to talk about them, yet.
“It’s still early then,” Ayuko said. Dr. Matsumori suppressed a smile, though sorrow and bitterness tinged her thoughts. Neither she nor her husband had ever kept regular hours. She’d been in the operating room more often than not, but her husband had spent those “long nights” conducting research on Ming’s anatomy.
“Don’t stay up too late,” Dr. Matsumori said.
“I’ll try not to,” her daughter replied, which neither of them believed.
Dr. Matsumori put an arm around Ayuko’s shoulders and squeezed. Opening her mouth, she meant to say “Good night” but what came out was, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ayuko looked up at her. “Tell you what, Mom?”
Not meeting her daughter’s eyes, she said, “That you were… are gay.”
“Oh.”
They were both quiet for a time. Ayuko stared straight ahead and absentmindedly played with the pencil she clutched in one hand.
“I didn’t think you’d want to know,” she said at last.
“Were you afraid to tell me?” Dr. Matsumori asked softly. Neither of them could look at each other.
“Yes.” It was barely a whisper.
“Did your father know?”
“Yes.”
Even that. Even that her bastard husband had taken from her. He’d been the one to push Ayuko and Dr. Matsumori had let him, had let him push her daughter, her family, her life, farther and farther away from her. But Ayuko had followed him to America and by then she… she’d gotten too tired to follow him anywhere.
“Are you angry?” Ayuko asked.
Dr. Matsumori reached up and stroked Ayuko’s hair. It was still soft. “Does she make you happy?”
“Rose?”
“Yes,” Dr. Matsumori said slowly, “Rose.”
“Sometimes it feels like she’s the only thing keeping me sane.”
Dr. Matsumori took a deep breath and let that sink in. They were like two strangers, who just happened to be mother and daughter. The worst of it was, she’d been wondering if it had been she who had encouraged Ayuko to seek women, who had lectured her daughter so often on the unreliability of men. Her influence and she’d had no idea at all.
“Do you trust her?”
“Yes,” Ayuko said and there was strength in her voice. Dr. Matsumori closed her eyes against the sudden flare of envy that rose within her. She could almost remember what it had felt like to have that sort of conviction.
“Do you love her?”
“Yes, Mom,” Ayuko said, turning to look up at her, “I love her.”
They stared at each other and then Dr. Matsumori bent down and pressed a kiss onto the crown of her daughter’s head. “Then, no, I’m not angry.” She didn’t say she was disappointed. Her husband had made his disappointment known enough for the both of them. “Just be careful, Ayuko.”
“She’s not like Dad, Mom.”
Dr. Matsumori pulled back and cupped Ayuko’s face, lined with age and worry and too many frown lines, a face that Rose Cohen could make smile nonetheless (or maybe smirk). She made the others smile, too, all across the years. Knowing her own ambivalence, she could only guess what Rose felt and overcame for her daughter-again and again and again, trying each time where her husband had continually given up.
“No, she’s not,” Dr. Matsumori agreed. She saw in Ayuko’s eyes the desire to ask more but that was enough for tonight. Years of conversation had yielded less than these few minutes.
“I think I should go to bed now,” Dr. Matsumori said. “Good night, Ayuko.”
“Good night, Mom,” Ayuko said.
Dr. Matsumori squeezed Ayuko’s shoulders. To her surprise, Ayuko reached up and covered her hands with her own, squeezing back. They smiled at each other, hesitantly, awkwardly, two people unused to smiling. Then she left, passing Rose on the soldier’s way in. In the hall, Dr. Matsumori glanced back to see the two greet each other in low voices, leaning towards each other to exchange a kiss. She could see the smile on Ayuko’s face.
She should get to know Rose better, Dr. Matsumori thought. But there would be chances for that. So many chances now to make up for lost years. If only her idiot husband had realized that second chances didn’t mean starting over, but she was done running away from him, from Ayuko, from herself. She wouldn't abandon Ayuko this time. And maybe, just maybe, things would turn out better.
More notes!: I liked that in the comic Mommy Mann was fine with Allison being gay and happy for Allison in finding happiness with Rose. Dr. Matsumori says as much to Rose, in fact, but recalling her shock at finding out her daughter was gay, I felt like she and Allison needed to have a convo about that. So this is what resulted.
Fandom: Y the Last Man
Rating: PG/PG-13
Words: 1024
Spoilers: End of Series
Featured Characters: Dr. Matsumori (Mommy Mann); Allison Mann
Disclaimer: All characters owned by Brian K. Vaughan.
Notes: SPOILERS! Highlight to read: This is born out of an ongoing fascination with the idea of Rose, Allison, and Mommy Mann living together and raising the clones, all the while Allison is trying to figure out how to clone men. This has the potential for all sorts of in-law, clone, love, and family issues. It's all sorta been swimming in my head since the end of the series, so maybe some stories will come out of it.
It struck Dr. Matsumori as she was putting the youngest of her daughter’s clones to bed, feeling again the softness of her daughter’s hair at age two and seeing the unknowing innocence in her sleeping face, just how her husband could have copied their daughter again and again and again. She knew what it felt like to suddenly desire the chance to do it all over, to raise her daughter right, without all the bullshit, anger, and fear of her crumbling marriage. A chance to get to be more involved, to get to know her better, to-
But that wasn’t how it worked.
Dr. Matsumori smoothed down Hachi-go’s hair and left the room quietly, taking one last look around to make sure the others had settled. She wandered into the lab, turning off lights in rooms that were unoccupied as she went along, and wasn’t surprised to find her daughter-the one she’d born herself and not that witch Ming-bent over a microscope.
She stood quietly in the door watching Ayuko for a time. The bioengineer wore a look of extreme concentration, squinting behind her glasses. When Ayuko leaned back to jot down a note, she noticed her.
“Mom!” she said in Chinese, a hand fluttering to her chest. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” Dr. Matsumori crossed the room to her daughter’s side and glanced down at the open notebook, pretending that she didn’t notice that her daughter was restraining herself from covering up her notes.
“Still working?” she asked mildly.
Ayuko rubbed her eyes and asked, “What time is it?”
“Almost ten. I just put Hachi to sleep.”
Ayuko nodded in a distracted way. She was uneasy when talk about her clones came up. They all were. None of them were sure how to talk about them, yet.
“It’s still early then,” Ayuko said. Dr. Matsumori suppressed a smile, though sorrow and bitterness tinged her thoughts. Neither she nor her husband had ever kept regular hours. She’d been in the operating room more often than not, but her husband had spent those “long nights” conducting research on Ming’s anatomy.
“Don’t stay up too late,” Dr. Matsumori said.
“I’ll try not to,” her daughter replied, which neither of them believed.
Dr. Matsumori put an arm around Ayuko’s shoulders and squeezed. Opening her mouth, she meant to say “Good night” but what came out was, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ayuko looked up at her. “Tell you what, Mom?”
Not meeting her daughter’s eyes, she said, “That you were… are gay.”
“Oh.”
They were both quiet for a time. Ayuko stared straight ahead and absentmindedly played with the pencil she clutched in one hand.
“I didn’t think you’d want to know,” she said at last.
“Were you afraid to tell me?” Dr. Matsumori asked softly. Neither of them could look at each other.
“Yes.” It was barely a whisper.
“Did your father know?”
“Yes.”
Even that. Even that her bastard husband had taken from her. He’d been the one to push Ayuko and Dr. Matsumori had let him, had let him push her daughter, her family, her life, farther and farther away from her. But Ayuko had followed him to America and by then she… she’d gotten too tired to follow him anywhere.
“Are you angry?” Ayuko asked.
Dr. Matsumori reached up and stroked Ayuko’s hair. It was still soft. “Does she make you happy?”
“Rose?”
“Yes,” Dr. Matsumori said slowly, “Rose.”
“Sometimes it feels like she’s the only thing keeping me sane.”
Dr. Matsumori took a deep breath and let that sink in. They were like two strangers, who just happened to be mother and daughter. The worst of it was, she’d been wondering if it had been she who had encouraged Ayuko to seek women, who had lectured her daughter so often on the unreliability of men. Her influence and she’d had no idea at all.
“Do you trust her?”
“Yes,” Ayuko said and there was strength in her voice. Dr. Matsumori closed her eyes against the sudden flare of envy that rose within her. She could almost remember what it had felt like to have that sort of conviction.
“Do you love her?”
“Yes, Mom,” Ayuko said, turning to look up at her, “I love her.”
They stared at each other and then Dr. Matsumori bent down and pressed a kiss onto the crown of her daughter’s head. “Then, no, I’m not angry.” She didn’t say she was disappointed. Her husband had made his disappointment known enough for the both of them. “Just be careful, Ayuko.”
“She’s not like Dad, Mom.”
Dr. Matsumori pulled back and cupped Ayuko’s face, lined with age and worry and too many frown lines, a face that Rose Cohen could make smile nonetheless (or maybe smirk). She made the others smile, too, all across the years. Knowing her own ambivalence, she could only guess what Rose felt and overcame for her daughter-again and again and again, trying each time where her husband had continually given up.
“No, she’s not,” Dr. Matsumori agreed. She saw in Ayuko’s eyes the desire to ask more but that was enough for tonight. Years of conversation had yielded less than these few minutes.
“I think I should go to bed now,” Dr. Matsumori said. “Good night, Ayuko.”
“Good night, Mom,” Ayuko said.
Dr. Matsumori squeezed Ayuko’s shoulders. To her surprise, Ayuko reached up and covered her hands with her own, squeezing back. They smiled at each other, hesitantly, awkwardly, two people unused to smiling. Then she left, passing Rose on the soldier’s way in. In the hall, Dr. Matsumori glanced back to see the two greet each other in low voices, leaning towards each other to exchange a kiss. She could see the smile on Ayuko’s face.
She should get to know Rose better, Dr. Matsumori thought. But there would be chances for that. So many chances now to make up for lost years. If only her idiot husband had realized that second chances didn’t mean starting over, but she was done running away from him, from Ayuko, from herself. She wouldn't abandon Ayuko this time. And maybe, just maybe, things would turn out better.
More notes!: I liked that in the comic Mommy Mann was fine with Allison being gay and happy for Allison in finding happiness with Rose. Dr. Matsumori says as much to Rose, in fact, but recalling her shock at finding out her daughter was gay, I felt like she and Allison needed to have a convo about that. So this is what resulted.