Proof In the Blood (Supernatural/X-Men Movieverse Crossover)
Proof In the Blood
by Tracy (lunarknightz
Rating: PG
Category: Supernatural/X-Men Movieverse Crossover.
Spoilers: Up to "Asylum" in Supernatural, set sometime, pressumably after X2 and before X3 in the movie canon. X2 spoilers, and truly vague X3 speculation, maybe?
Summary: Sam undergoes a blood test to see if he is a mutant.
Disclaimer: Neither one of them belongs to me. Do you see me being carried around by Dean & Sam, lavishing attention one me? Nope, neither do I. So it's not mine, never will be, but I'd love for it to be. If I only had eleventy billion dollars....
Blood tests weren’t mandatory yet; though all the news outlets were expecting them to become standard for any physical health examination within the next few months. The psychic attack months ago, which left mutants and normal humans alike, withering on the ground, seeping in pain, had been the catalyst for a new wave of paranoia and discrimination against mutants. Civilization had advanced past judging someone by the hue of their skin, and advanced to judging someone by their genetic makeup. People didn’t like mutants because they were different, because they were powerful. People were afraid of mutants.
The possibility that he was a mutant haunted Sam. He wasn’t afraid of being different- he has been different his whole life- never quite fitting in with anyone- with Dad and Dean, with friends at school. Sam had always been alone. If he was a mutant…then there might be a place where he could belong. He wouldn’t be alone.
He waited impatiently in the doctor’s office, glancing quickly through all the magazines in the office- he’d finished the current issues of “Men’s Health”, “People”, and “Good Housekeeping” and was picking up “Parents” for a lack of any other reading material when the nurse called his name, or rather the alias on his fake ID.
“Nick Rivera?”
“That’s me.” Sam replied, rising from his seat. It was always a bad idea to let Dean pick names for their fake identification, they always had some cutesy pop culture reference in it. Couldn’t they just use simple, non-descript names? Famous names stuck in people’s memories a hell of a lot longer than simple names. There was no reasoning with his big brother, not when it came to fake IDs.
The nurse led Sam to an office. “Dr. Montgomery will be with you in a few minutes.” She smiled, brushing her reddish brown curls out of her face. “He’ll go over the results with you, okay?”
This was Sam’s second visit. He’d had the actual test done last week, while Dean was doing research at the library. Today, he’d find out the truth.
Sam plopped down on the paper covered examination table, and leaned back. He closed his eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet. Sleep claimed Sam, and he slept lightly. Their last case- the gremlin in Central Park- had been a bitch to solve, and the brothers had both been extremely short on sleep.
Loud voices, almost shouting, from the office next door woke Sam abruptly from his sleep.
“You’ve got to be kidding me Doc.”
Sam jerked up to a sitting position when he heard that voice. Dean’s voice.
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Quimby. You are in fact, a mutant.”
“That’s just crazy.” Dean fumed. “I don’t have any special powers. I don’t fly, I don’t read people’s minds, I don’t have fur or blades coming out of my fingers. I’m normal.”
“You must have suspected something, Mr. Quimby. You came to us to take this test, didn’t you?”
“I…I thought I could be a carrier, maybe. My little brother’s the one with the gift. I…are you absolutely sure?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Quimby. We take these tests very seriously. It’s possible that you may have a less obvious power. Do you find yourself to be extremely lucky? Were you abnormally good in school? There are all kinds of mutants, some are well, rather obvious, and others can barely be detected.” The doctor paused slightly. “It’s also possible that your power hasn’t manifested yet. Generally, most people manifest during puberty, but it’s not unusual for people to gain their gifts all the way up unto their twenties. We can also take it into consideration that the psychic incident seemed to have…activated a few genes of people who otherwise, would have had latent genes. You may be one of these cases.”
“What in the hell am I gonna do?” Dean growled.
“I know a place that is designed to help people such as yourself, Mr. Quimby. Here’s one of their cards. Tell them that Doctor Moria McTaggart sent you. They’ll help you figure out what to do.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need help. Not yours or anyone else’s.”
Sam heard Dean stomp out of the room and slam the door behind him.
He leapt to his feet, determined to catch up to his brother. He ran halfway down the hallway before he heard Dr. Moria McTaggart calling after him.
“Mr. Rivera…We need to discuss your results.”
“I’m sorry.” He jogged back from her. “Family emergency. I really can’t stay. Can I just have my results?”
“I’d rather you schedule another appointment…we like to counsel anyone that comes in for these test, as this is a rather emotional situation for anyone…”
“I’m going to be out of town. My schedule’s pretty much booked solid for the next couple of months. I really like my results now, please.”
She handed a small white envelope to him then. “It’s unorthodox, but it is your life.” Dr. McTaggart shrugged. “If you need further help, please don’t hesitate to contact my office.”
“I will.”
There was no sign of Dean in the waiting room, or anywhere in the complex.
Sam was determined to find his brother. Dean needed him. He would search the whole city of New York, if he had to, to find him.
by Tracy (lunarknightz
Rating: PG
Category: Supernatural/X-Men Movieverse Crossover.
Spoilers: Up to "Asylum" in Supernatural, set sometime, pressumably after X2 and before X3 in the movie canon. X2 spoilers, and truly vague X3 speculation, maybe?
Summary: Sam undergoes a blood test to see if he is a mutant.
Disclaimer: Neither one of them belongs to me. Do you see me being carried around by Dean & Sam, lavishing attention one me? Nope, neither do I. So it's not mine, never will be, but I'd love for it to be. If I only had eleventy billion dollars....
Blood tests weren’t mandatory yet; though all the news outlets were expecting them to become standard for any physical health examination within the next few months. The psychic attack months ago, which left mutants and normal humans alike, withering on the ground, seeping in pain, had been the catalyst for a new wave of paranoia and discrimination against mutants. Civilization had advanced past judging someone by the hue of their skin, and advanced to judging someone by their genetic makeup. People didn’t like mutants because they were different, because they were powerful. People were afraid of mutants.
The possibility that he was a mutant haunted Sam. He wasn’t afraid of being different- he has been different his whole life- never quite fitting in with anyone- with Dad and Dean, with friends at school. Sam had always been alone. If he was a mutant…then there might be a place where he could belong. He wouldn’t be alone.
He waited impatiently in the doctor’s office, glancing quickly through all the magazines in the office- he’d finished the current issues of “Men’s Health”, “People”, and “Good Housekeeping” and was picking up “Parents” for a lack of any other reading material when the nurse called his name, or rather the alias on his fake ID.
“Nick Rivera?”
“That’s me.” Sam replied, rising from his seat. It was always a bad idea to let Dean pick names for their fake identification, they always had some cutesy pop culture reference in it. Couldn’t they just use simple, non-descript names? Famous names stuck in people’s memories a hell of a lot longer than simple names. There was no reasoning with his big brother, not when it came to fake IDs.
The nurse led Sam to an office. “Dr. Montgomery will be with you in a few minutes.” She smiled, brushing her reddish brown curls out of her face. “He’ll go over the results with you, okay?”
This was Sam’s second visit. He’d had the actual test done last week, while Dean was doing research at the library. Today, he’d find out the truth.
Sam plopped down on the paper covered examination table, and leaned back. He closed his eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet. Sleep claimed Sam, and he slept lightly. Their last case- the gremlin in Central Park- had been a bitch to solve, and the brothers had both been extremely short on sleep.
Loud voices, almost shouting, from the office next door woke Sam abruptly from his sleep.
“You’ve got to be kidding me Doc.”
Sam jerked up to a sitting position when he heard that voice. Dean’s voice.
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Quimby. You are in fact, a mutant.”
“That’s just crazy.” Dean fumed. “I don’t have any special powers. I don’t fly, I don’t read people’s minds, I don’t have fur or blades coming out of my fingers. I’m normal.”
“You must have suspected something, Mr. Quimby. You came to us to take this test, didn’t you?”
“I…I thought I could be a carrier, maybe. My little brother’s the one with the gift. I…are you absolutely sure?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Quimby. We take these tests very seriously. It’s possible that you may have a less obvious power. Do you find yourself to be extremely lucky? Were you abnormally good in school? There are all kinds of mutants, some are well, rather obvious, and others can barely be detected.” The doctor paused slightly. “It’s also possible that your power hasn’t manifested yet. Generally, most people manifest during puberty, but it’s not unusual for people to gain their gifts all the way up unto their twenties. We can also take it into consideration that the psychic incident seemed to have…activated a few genes of people who otherwise, would have had latent genes. You may be one of these cases.”
“What in the hell am I gonna do?” Dean growled.
“I know a place that is designed to help people such as yourself, Mr. Quimby. Here’s one of their cards. Tell them that Doctor Moria McTaggart sent you. They’ll help you figure out what to do.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need help. Not yours or anyone else’s.”
Sam heard Dean stomp out of the room and slam the door behind him.
He leapt to his feet, determined to catch up to his brother. He ran halfway down the hallway before he heard Dr. Moria McTaggart calling after him.
“Mr. Rivera…We need to discuss your results.”
“I’m sorry.” He jogged back from her. “Family emergency. I really can’t stay. Can I just have my results?”
“I’d rather you schedule another appointment…we like to counsel anyone that comes in for these test, as this is a rather emotional situation for anyone…”
“I’m going to be out of town. My schedule’s pretty much booked solid for the next couple of months. I really like my results now, please.”
She handed a small white envelope to him then. “It’s unorthodox, but it is your life.” Dr. McTaggart shrugged. “If you need further help, please don’t hesitate to contact my office.”
“I will.”
There was no sign of Dean in the waiting room, or anywhere in the complex.
Sam was determined to find his brother. Dean needed him. He would search the whole city of New York, if he had to, to find him.