Crossover: A Fresh Start (Phantom of the OperaXSupernatural)
Title: A Fresh Start
Fandom: Supernatural X Phantom of the Opera
Characters/Pairings: Sam (kind of!)/Christine, Dean (kind of!)/Meg Giry, the Phantom, Raoul, Madame Giry, Phillipe de Chagny
Genre: Crossover, Humor, Crack, AU
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,937
Author’s Note: Written for tamingthemuse prompt #164 - Possessed and for the September Comic Challenge. Ladies and gentlemen-I just really wanted to write Wancester fic. Also, if you’re wondering why I pimp Christine out to everyone when I write Phantom crossovers…well, I don’t know, either. The Phantom canon in this story is a confused mix of the ALW!Musical and Leroux. Not beta’d and written in a rush, all mistakes are my own.
Summary: Samuel and Deane Winchester are brothers and demon hunters in Victorian England. When they hear that the Paris Opera House may have a haunting, they decide to take a vacation. That’s when things get weird.
"Go on then, just say it."
"There are no hunts left in this city, Deane. We took care of the vampire nest; it is time for us to move on."
"But, the lady, Samuel. Think of the lady! Her poor, innocent soul knows nothing of the sorrows of heartbreak!"
They had been having this fight for three days now and Deane's almost genuine attachment to the sweet young girl they had met while trying to locate the nest of the vampires who took her brother had won out. But Samuel was getting tired of this town and of having to trail Deane and Elizabeth as they walked arm in arm through parks and spoke of nothing but their undying attachment to one another.
"The lady has still not given you what you're looking for then, eh?"
"Brother, I am offended. To think that I would use a chaste maiden so..."
Samuel gave his brother a pointed look.
"No, Sam, no she has not."
"I have told you a million times not to call me Sam. My name is Samuel."
"And somehow, it always slips my mind, Sam."
Samuel huffed. "I think I know where we should go next. You'll like it, brother; you should at least hear me out."
"Very well, what are you thinking?"
"I have heard strange reports about an opera house not far from here. It may be a demonic possession of some kind. Many of the workers in the place have been found hanging; there are rumors of a spirit, but none of the usual signs of a ghost's presence. I suspect it is something far more sinister, something that requires more gifted hunters than the French have to offer."
Deane and Samuel scoffed together like any good English gentlemen are required to do at the mention of the French.
"You want to cross the channel for a hunt? Does that not strike you as somewhat melodramatic?"
"They need us, Deane. People are in trouble."
"Oh, let the frogs figure out their own situation."
"They need us, Deane," Samuel tried again. "Ballet dancers are in trouble."
"Did you say ballet dancers?" He sighed uneasily-Samuel and Deane never hunted on the continent. Their father had taken them on a vampire job in Romania as children, and Deane had never quite recovered from his seasickness and gotten over his fear of boats.
"French ballet dancers."
Deane clicked his tongue a couple of times while he mulled over the rumored looseness of French women in general and how that would improve upon how generous even good Anglican Ballerinas were.
"People are dying, Samuel. We have a job to do."
_______________________________________________
Paris was a lovely city. Unfortunately, neither Samuel nor Deane knew this yet because they had spent the past two days holed up inside of their Inn. Deane was whining about how nauseous he still was from the rather smooth trip and Samuel was trying to take care of his brother the best he could.
When Deane finally recovered, they headed to a gala performance in order to collect information. Somewhere in the second act, it became plainly obvious that Samuel had been right-there was a job here and it was no ordinary vengeful spirit.
At the end of the performance, the charming girl who had been playing the part of Marguerite had fainted. Perhaps not as strange as it could have been, but Samuel had remarked early in the second act that she seemed to be in some kind of a daze. While performing admirably-more admirable, indeed, than Sam had ever seen anyone perform the role (he had of course seen Faust many times and it was no easy feat to out-perform the gifted ladies of the London Operas), she seemed terrified, enraptured, out of her element.
Deane had not noticed her strange behavior, but Samuel knew from the way he was looking at her that there was little more about the Soprano he could see than, well, the soprano herself. Not that Samuel blamed him, the lady was more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen and her beauty along with her talent made her immediately suspicious to Samuel. Quietly, they followed the crowd of people who carried Christine to her dressing room and listened quietly as Christine had a confused conversation with a suitor only to disappear before their very eyes once he had left and a strange (not to mention invisible) voice summoned her.
_______________________________________________
It was clear Christine Daae was not a siren or a succubus as Samuel had first thought. What seemed more likely was that she was under the spell of some demon, or was perhaps possessed herself.
"Christine Daae has sold her soul for her talent. Her looks are better than average, but she would be completely forgettable without that voice."
"It was a lovely voice," Dean rhapsodized in an airy manner.
Samuel rolled his eyes at his brother.
"Can you focus on the issue at hand?"
"Well, who says she has to be up to something nasty? She seemed nice enough to me."
"Deane, were you listening to the conversation she had with that blond fellow at all? There was an angel who gave her gifts? Her dead father had sent him? Did you catch the way she was looking around with religious awe and terror all at once? It sounds like a demon to me, and a tricky one at that."
"That little blond upstart...I'm better looking than him, right?"
Samuel threw something at his brother (in a very dignified fashion, mind you) and quietly accepted that he was probably going to be mostly alone on this hunt.
_______________________________________________
When they went to interview the young lady the next day, they were met by a stern older woman who informed them that Christine would not be answering any questions about her angel or her state of health before nearly slamming the door on their faces. Her suspicious behavior had made Deane question whether she had something to do with the ingénues' deal. They were fairly certain by now that a demon was behind Christine's success having learned from a talkative post boy that the leading lady, La Carlotta had received threatening notes (which, upon being ignored, had somehow actually led to the Prima Donna becoming ill) that had given Christine the opportunity to understudy the lead role the previous evening. The old woman had passed Samuel’s demon test, however, when he had "accidentally" spilled holy water from his flask on her, and after a little bit of Deane's charming plying, she had agreed to let the two "talent managers" speak with her young ward.
Christine as it turned out was a sweet girl, though a little mild mannered for Deane. Samuel, on the other hand, had been enraptured by the young lady and after prying her for all of the information relevant to the case he could think of, had resorted to compliments about her performance Deane didn’t even understand.
“That girl,” Deane said, exhausted once he had finally escaped the hell of watching his poor, awkward brother attempt to woo a lady. “Should be institutionalized.”
“What do you mean, brother? She was one of the lord’s own angels.”
“A man started talking to her through a mirror three months ago, Sam, and she made friends with him, took singing lessons from him, and thinks he is an angel.”
“That’s not so bad, Deane!”
Deane raised an eyebrow.
“Alright, the lady is perhaps a tad naïve. But I am unconvinced that she sold her soul to this demon.”
“Only one way to figure it out, my dear boy. We go to the mirror and we discover the demon’s secrets!”
_______________________________________________
Would that it had been that simple. The demon in the opera house, was, as it were, not a demon but in fact a man. Had Samuel and Deane known this, they would have gotten on a ship and headed for England where they belonged. Unfortunately, Deane had only just discovered this fact and the man (or whatever he was) had already captured Samuel. Deane learned this from the stupid blond lad Deane has seen in Christine’s dressing room the first night they were on the case and his guide, an old woman who was nonetheless so terrifying that Deane never wanted to get on her bad side. Apparently, this Phantom (who was actually a man named Erik) had also kidnapped the boy’s brother and Christine. Only the old woman knew how to find him and even she had no idea how they could stop him once they did. It couldn’t be too hard, Deane had assured himself, but now he wasn’t so confident.
The boy had been captured by stupidly prancing onto a trap door and now it fell to Deane to save everyone. Deane was watching as this Erik threatened Christine. Samuel, her suitor Raoul, and his brother Phillipe, would all die if she did not agree to be his wife. Deane was looking at the man, who had been unmasked, and was pretty sure three lives were nowhere near enough to convince anyone to agree to that deal.
The man approached his young student threateningly, but his back was to Deane. Deane saw his chance and approached, about to press his shotgun the monster’s back when Samuel got his attention. His brother was shaking his head no and indicating that he should go back to where he was hiding. Deane trusted his brother, so he went along with the plan, even though it seemed reckless. Sure enough, the girl kissed the monster and within half an hour, he was sneaking onto a small boat with Samuel, Christine, her suitor, and his brother, all alive and in one piece.
_______________________________________________
The next day, the brothers were preparing to return to England, pacified that the man in the opera would no longer be a threat to others. As they packed, there was a soft rap at the door.
“Christine?”
“Hello, Samuel. I just wanted to thank you and say goodbye. I am…I am engaged to Raoul now but…I very much enjoyed our conversations and, well…” the girl glanced behind her to make sure her fiancée was distracted with his horses. Satisfied, she turned back to Sam and raised her lips modestly to Samuel’s, giving him a brief kiss. Then she turned and fled back to her carriages. Samuel stood enraptured in the Inn doorway.
“Did you see that, brother? She kissed me!”
“You are almost a man now,” Deane responded, his tone thick with sarcasm.
Samuel did not notice. “I believe I will never love another woman as I have loved her.”
“That is truly beautiful. Can we please go? Far far away and as quickly as possible?”
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Remember when I went to discuss the events at the opera with some of the ballet girls the other night?”
“Yes?”
“One of the ballerinas, her name was Meg somethingorother, she was very friendly. My point is, I met her mother last night and if that woman is looking for a man to punish on her daughter’s behalf in nine months, I do not want to be anywhere near her wrath.”
“Deane! Can you not go a week without getting us exiled from a country? At this point, you have mothers to fear in almost every city in England and now Paris, too? Where are we supposed to go?”
“I hear there is a desperate need for hunters in America. We could always start afresh in the New World.”
And that is exactly what they did.
[1]
Fandom: Supernatural X Phantom of the Opera
Characters/Pairings: Sam (kind of!)/Christine, Dean (kind of!)/Meg Giry, the Phantom, Raoul, Madame Giry, Phillipe de Chagny
Genre: Crossover, Humor, Crack, AU
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,937
Author’s Note: Written for tamingthemuse prompt #164 - Possessed and for the September Comic Challenge. Ladies and gentlemen-I just really wanted to write Wancester fic. Also, if you’re wondering why I pimp Christine out to everyone when I write Phantom crossovers…well, I don’t know, either. The Phantom canon in this story is a confused mix of the ALW!Musical and Leroux. Not beta’d and written in a rush, all mistakes are my own.
Summary: Samuel and Deane Winchester are brothers and demon hunters in Victorian England. When they hear that the Paris Opera House may have a haunting, they decide to take a vacation. That’s when things get weird.
"Go on then, just say it."
"There are no hunts left in this city, Deane. We took care of the vampire nest; it is time for us to move on."
"But, the lady, Samuel. Think of the lady! Her poor, innocent soul knows nothing of the sorrows of heartbreak!"
They had been having this fight for three days now and Deane's almost genuine attachment to the sweet young girl they had met while trying to locate the nest of the vampires who took her brother had won out. But Samuel was getting tired of this town and of having to trail Deane and Elizabeth as they walked arm in arm through parks and spoke of nothing but their undying attachment to one another.
"The lady has still not given you what you're looking for then, eh?"
"Brother, I am offended. To think that I would use a chaste maiden so..."
Samuel gave his brother a pointed look.
"No, Sam, no she has not."
"I have told you a million times not to call me Sam. My name is Samuel."
"And somehow, it always slips my mind, Sam."
Samuel huffed. "I think I know where we should go next. You'll like it, brother; you should at least hear me out."
"Very well, what are you thinking?"
"I have heard strange reports about an opera house not far from here. It may be a demonic possession of some kind. Many of the workers in the place have been found hanging; there are rumors of a spirit, but none of the usual signs of a ghost's presence. I suspect it is something far more sinister, something that requires more gifted hunters than the French have to offer."
Deane and Samuel scoffed together like any good English gentlemen are required to do at the mention of the French.
"You want to cross the channel for a hunt? Does that not strike you as somewhat melodramatic?"
"They need us, Deane. People are in trouble."
"Oh, let the frogs figure out their own situation."
"They need us, Deane," Samuel tried again. "Ballet dancers are in trouble."
"Did you say ballet dancers?" He sighed uneasily-Samuel and Deane never hunted on the continent. Their father had taken them on a vampire job in Romania as children, and Deane had never quite recovered from his seasickness and gotten over his fear of boats.
"French ballet dancers."
Deane clicked his tongue a couple of times while he mulled over the rumored looseness of French women in general and how that would improve upon how generous even good Anglican Ballerinas were.
"People are dying, Samuel. We have a job to do."
_______________________________________________
Paris was a lovely city. Unfortunately, neither Samuel nor Deane knew this yet because they had spent the past two days holed up inside of their Inn. Deane was whining about how nauseous he still was from the rather smooth trip and Samuel was trying to take care of his brother the best he could.
When Deane finally recovered, they headed to a gala performance in order to collect information. Somewhere in the second act, it became plainly obvious that Samuel had been right-there was a job here and it was no ordinary vengeful spirit.
At the end of the performance, the charming girl who had been playing the part of Marguerite had fainted. Perhaps not as strange as it could have been, but Samuel had remarked early in the second act that she seemed to be in some kind of a daze. While performing admirably-more admirable, indeed, than Sam had ever seen anyone perform the role (he had of course seen Faust many times and it was no easy feat to out-perform the gifted ladies of the London Operas), she seemed terrified, enraptured, out of her element.
Deane had not noticed her strange behavior, but Samuel knew from the way he was looking at her that there was little more about the Soprano he could see than, well, the soprano herself. Not that Samuel blamed him, the lady was more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen and her beauty along with her talent made her immediately suspicious to Samuel. Quietly, they followed the crowd of people who carried Christine to her dressing room and listened quietly as Christine had a confused conversation with a suitor only to disappear before their very eyes once he had left and a strange (not to mention invisible) voice summoned her.
_______________________________________________
It was clear Christine Daae was not a siren or a succubus as Samuel had first thought. What seemed more likely was that she was under the spell of some demon, or was perhaps possessed herself.
"Christine Daae has sold her soul for her talent. Her looks are better than average, but she would be completely forgettable without that voice."
"It was a lovely voice," Dean rhapsodized in an airy manner.
Samuel rolled his eyes at his brother.
"Can you focus on the issue at hand?"
"Well, who says she has to be up to something nasty? She seemed nice enough to me."
"Deane, were you listening to the conversation she had with that blond fellow at all? There was an angel who gave her gifts? Her dead father had sent him? Did you catch the way she was looking around with religious awe and terror all at once? It sounds like a demon to me, and a tricky one at that."
"That little blond upstart...I'm better looking than him, right?"
Samuel threw something at his brother (in a very dignified fashion, mind you) and quietly accepted that he was probably going to be mostly alone on this hunt.
_______________________________________________
When they went to interview the young lady the next day, they were met by a stern older woman who informed them that Christine would not be answering any questions about her angel or her state of health before nearly slamming the door on their faces. Her suspicious behavior had made Deane question whether she had something to do with the ingénues' deal. They were fairly certain by now that a demon was behind Christine's success having learned from a talkative post boy that the leading lady, La Carlotta had received threatening notes (which, upon being ignored, had somehow actually led to the Prima Donna becoming ill) that had given Christine the opportunity to understudy the lead role the previous evening. The old woman had passed Samuel’s demon test, however, when he had "accidentally" spilled holy water from his flask on her, and after a little bit of Deane's charming plying, she had agreed to let the two "talent managers" speak with her young ward.
Christine as it turned out was a sweet girl, though a little mild mannered for Deane. Samuel, on the other hand, had been enraptured by the young lady and after prying her for all of the information relevant to the case he could think of, had resorted to compliments about her performance Deane didn’t even understand.
“That girl,” Deane said, exhausted once he had finally escaped the hell of watching his poor, awkward brother attempt to woo a lady. “Should be institutionalized.”
“What do you mean, brother? She was one of the lord’s own angels.”
“A man started talking to her through a mirror three months ago, Sam, and she made friends with him, took singing lessons from him, and thinks he is an angel.”
“That’s not so bad, Deane!”
Deane raised an eyebrow.
“Alright, the lady is perhaps a tad naïve. But I am unconvinced that she sold her soul to this demon.”
“Only one way to figure it out, my dear boy. We go to the mirror and we discover the demon’s secrets!”
_______________________________________________
Would that it had been that simple. The demon in the opera house, was, as it were, not a demon but in fact a man. Had Samuel and Deane known this, they would have gotten on a ship and headed for England where they belonged. Unfortunately, Deane had only just discovered this fact and the man (or whatever he was) had already captured Samuel. Deane learned this from the stupid blond lad Deane has seen in Christine’s dressing room the first night they were on the case and his guide, an old woman who was nonetheless so terrifying that Deane never wanted to get on her bad side. Apparently, this Phantom (who was actually a man named Erik) had also kidnapped the boy’s brother and Christine. Only the old woman knew how to find him and even she had no idea how they could stop him once they did. It couldn’t be too hard, Deane had assured himself, but now he wasn’t so confident.
The boy had been captured by stupidly prancing onto a trap door and now it fell to Deane to save everyone. Deane was watching as this Erik threatened Christine. Samuel, her suitor Raoul, and his brother Phillipe, would all die if she did not agree to be his wife. Deane was looking at the man, who had been unmasked, and was pretty sure three lives were nowhere near enough to convince anyone to agree to that deal.
The man approached his young student threateningly, but his back was to Deane. Deane saw his chance and approached, about to press his shotgun the monster’s back when Samuel got his attention. His brother was shaking his head no and indicating that he should go back to where he was hiding. Deane trusted his brother, so he went along with the plan, even though it seemed reckless. Sure enough, the girl kissed the monster and within half an hour, he was sneaking onto a small boat with Samuel, Christine, her suitor, and his brother, all alive and in one piece.
_______________________________________________
The next day, the brothers were preparing to return to England, pacified that the man in the opera would no longer be a threat to others. As they packed, there was a soft rap at the door.
“Christine?”
“Hello, Samuel. I just wanted to thank you and say goodbye. I am…I am engaged to Raoul now but…I very much enjoyed our conversations and, well…” the girl glanced behind her to make sure her fiancée was distracted with his horses. Satisfied, she turned back to Sam and raised her lips modestly to Samuel’s, giving him a brief kiss. Then she turned and fled back to her carriages. Samuel stood enraptured in the Inn doorway.
“Did you see that, brother? She kissed me!”
“You are almost a man now,” Deane responded, his tone thick with sarcasm.
Samuel did not notice. “I believe I will never love another woman as I have loved her.”
“That is truly beautiful. Can we please go? Far far away and as quickly as possible?”
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Remember when I went to discuss the events at the opera with some of the ballet girls the other night?”
“Yes?”
“One of the ballerinas, her name was Meg somethingorother, she was very friendly. My point is, I met her mother last night and if that woman is looking for a man to punish on her daughter’s behalf in nine months, I do not want to be anywhere near her wrath.”
“Deane! Can you not go a week without getting us exiled from a country? At this point, you have mothers to fear in almost every city in England and now Paris, too? Where are we supposed to go?”
“I hear there is a desperate need for hunters in America. We could always start afresh in the New World.”
And that is exactly what they did.
[1]