Crossover Galore Challenge, part 2
Jan. 18th, 2010 11:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_qThis is the other crossover I wrote back in July -07. The Emma/Spike one came first, then I got the idea how to cross X-men with Supernatural. Back in the early seasons, the Supernatural boys are looking for kids that might have been affected by the Yellow Eye Demon - the fic started from the question, could Theresa Cassidy be one of them? So, Sam and Dean go ask.
The song in the fic is Rilo Kiley's Absence of God.
"Is she one of you or isn't she?" Dean asked once more, sounding like he had just reached the end of his patience. Sam let the tone slide and didn't even push the expression of one of you. Dean got a reason to be a bit testy and for a certain extent, Sam was willing to let it go.
"I don't know if she is. I know that she has a certain abilities and her mother died when she was young, but beyond that..."
"How young was she? How did the mother die? What is her thing? Give me something Sam!"
"Calm down, would you? We go meet her and see if we can find out. Simple as that." Sam said, for the fifth time. The conversation had moved in these lines for last ten minutes. Dean had argued with everything Sam had suggested. Sam didn't know what exactly had brought this mood on, but it was starting to get old. “It’s just a club, see? Girls and beer, just the way you like?” He added, like a tired mother placating a two-year old with a temper tantrum.
Dean just snorted, looking even more annoyed. “Please. More like cheap wine in plastic cups and guys with artsy hair dos.”
“Hey, I don‘t judge.” With that, Sam just started walking toward the club entrance. He was here to talk with Theresa, and he would do just that. No matter how long Dean wanted to argue about it. Sam needed to know if she was, as Dean had put it, one of us.
The club was just as one could suspect from the outside; tiny place with a low ceiling, a bit worn out and full of people. The music hung over their heads like a smoke, a vibrant mass of colour and movement. It affected everyone in the club, the crowd swaying like a one giant being. It was hard to believe that the voice belonged to a scrawny girl standing in the middle of the stage, looking like she had snug out in her older sister's party dress.
”...We could be daytime drunks if we wanted, we'd never get anything done that way baby...”
She sang in the voice of a woman who had seen things, things profoundly human, good and bad. To Sam it felt like there was a hidden message in there somewhere, meant just for him and him alone. Paradoxically, it seemed that the whole audience was feeling just the same.
”...And I say there's trouble when everything is fine, the need to destroy things creeps up on me every time...”
Sam tried to move past the effect her voice had on him and try to get a feel the girl herself, but it was impossible to distinguish her from the music. She stood there in plain sight, but no matter how much you stared at her, you could only see the music pouring from her.
"That is some gift alright." Dean noted behind his shoulder. "I bet she is not lip-syncing."
"We need a chance to talk with her alone." Sam tried to at the same time shout over the music and keep his voice low enough as not to draw unwarranted attention. He didn't need to worry about it; people around them cared very little anything past the music.
"That's easy. There." Dean shouted back, obviously much less worried about who might hear him, pointing towards the door reading 'Crew'.
”...And something's got to change, 'cause our love's the slowest moving train.”
As the song ended, the force of applauds and cheering was deafening. It was some work to try push through the crowd packed tightly around the stage, but Sam managed and Dean got the easy task of following. The Crew door was not locked, which was rather surprising. There was just long dank corridor, piled up with assorted beverage creates and extra chairs. The corridor continued behind the corner in both directions. Before they had a chance to decide which way to go, the door opened again and the girl in question stepped in, bumping straight into them.
"Oh, I'm so sorry... Sam?"
"Hi Theresa."
"What are you doing here? I haven't seen you since I was playing in California!"
"We came to see you sing. This is..."
"Dean. Quite a show you got there.
For Sam it seemed that Dean’s wolfish grin threw Theresa off balance somehow, but she covered her surprise very well, pulling up a polite front.
"Glad you liked it. But what are you doing here? This is the crew area. The party is out there." She said it lightly, like she was just joking. Sam saw the glimmer of worry in her eyes. She didn't move her hand from the door handle, and kept her back against it. Sam had no doubt that she would take a run for it if either one of them would give her reason for it. Sam couldn't really blame her for being cautious. They had only met in few parties two years ago, just enough to know a name and recognize the face but not really being even acquaintances. Dean in other hand seemed to care very little what Theresa thought or said.
"Yeah, we have seen the party. You collect quite a group around. Any chance that would be something else than just loyal fandom? "
"Something like what?" Theresa asked her eyes suddenly sharp and her hand squeezing the door handle tighter. Sam tried to signal Dean to cut it out, but he seemed to take none of it.
"You know, sudden sense of being evil? Feeling need to control people just for the kick of it? Scary nightmares and such?"
"Dean!" Sam just couldn't believe he had actually gone and said that, flat out. He fully expected Theresa to take a run for it now and turned to explain that in fact his brother was mental and she shouldn't worry about it, and they would be heading out right about now and no need to call the bouncers, thank you very much. Instead of freaking out, Theresa just flashed a tired smile to Dean. The kind of smile that said that she had heard it thousand times before already, had hoped for something new and just got disappointed as expected. It was an old smile, in sharp clash with her age.
"Are you the type who shoves brochures to me, telling that I'm an abomination or more on the violent side?"
"I've often opted for violence, sure. Sam is more into talking."
"DEAN."
"Hm, honesty. That is refreshing. So, what are you guys? The Union of Humanity? You look too scruffy for the Anti-Mutant Movement. No wait, you are a new neo-fascist movement, just waiting to make headlines to get your name some street credit?" There was sudden undertone in her voice, sharp and metallic, the type that emphasized the possibility of serious pain and bleeding through ears.
"No, really, we are not... Wait a minute. You are a mutant?"
Theresa just rolled her eyes, a gesture quite similar with Dean's earlier one. Sam was starting to feel like he was being the punch line of a cosmic joke.
"You don't even know if I'm a mutant? Good god, either you are the worst mutant bashers I have ever met or you are writing the Idiots Guide to the Hate Crime! Seriously, just forget it. I can do hell lot more than just whistle a pretty tune, so why don't you guys just walk out like good little boys, and we forget this conversation ever happened, hm?" Theresa suggested and her voice scraping their ears in uncomfortable way. She opened the door for them, holding it like a bouncer.
Before Dean had a chance to say something even more stupid than before, Sam grabbed a hold of his arm and dragged him to the door.
"I'm so sorry Theresa, honestly this was a just mistake."
"Good that you can see it. Don't bother visiting again." The coldness in her voice almost crystallized in the air.
Dean just had to quip something clever when he passed her, but the crowd outside was making such a racket that whatever Dean said got lost in the noise. Sam was grateful about that, he had no doubt that they shouldn’t push this envelope much more. It was easier to get out of the club than other way around. When they were back on the street, Sam let Dean go and not too gently.
“What was that? Are you brain dead or something? She could have eviscerated us through our ears!”
“First, that’s not anatomically possible and second, what’s the problem? She is not what we are looking for, simple as that. Besides, you have met her and you could not figure out she is a mutant? You are loosing your edge Sam.”
“What ever. Next time you stay in the car.”
The song in the fic is Rilo Kiley's Absence of God.
"Is she one of you or isn't she?" Dean asked once more, sounding like he had just reached the end of his patience. Sam let the tone slide and didn't even push the expression of one of you. Dean got a reason to be a bit testy and for a certain extent, Sam was willing to let it go.
"I don't know if she is. I know that she has a certain abilities and her mother died when she was young, but beyond that..."
"How young was she? How did the mother die? What is her thing? Give me something Sam!"
"Calm down, would you? We go meet her and see if we can find out. Simple as that." Sam said, for the fifth time. The conversation had moved in these lines for last ten minutes. Dean had argued with everything Sam had suggested. Sam didn't know what exactly had brought this mood on, but it was starting to get old. “It’s just a club, see? Girls and beer, just the way you like?” He added, like a tired mother placating a two-year old with a temper tantrum.
Dean just snorted, looking even more annoyed. “Please. More like cheap wine in plastic cups and guys with artsy hair dos.”
“Hey, I don‘t judge.” With that, Sam just started walking toward the club entrance. He was here to talk with Theresa, and he would do just that. No matter how long Dean wanted to argue about it. Sam needed to know if she was, as Dean had put it, one of us.
The club was just as one could suspect from the outside; tiny place with a low ceiling, a bit worn out and full of people. The music hung over their heads like a smoke, a vibrant mass of colour and movement. It affected everyone in the club, the crowd swaying like a one giant being. It was hard to believe that the voice belonged to a scrawny girl standing in the middle of the stage, looking like she had snug out in her older sister's party dress.
”...We could be daytime drunks if we wanted, we'd never get anything done that way baby...”
She sang in the voice of a woman who had seen things, things profoundly human, good and bad. To Sam it felt like there was a hidden message in there somewhere, meant just for him and him alone. Paradoxically, it seemed that the whole audience was feeling just the same.
”...And I say there's trouble when everything is fine, the need to destroy things creeps up on me every time...”
Sam tried to move past the effect her voice had on him and try to get a feel the girl herself, but it was impossible to distinguish her from the music. She stood there in plain sight, but no matter how much you stared at her, you could only see the music pouring from her.
"That is some gift alright." Dean noted behind his shoulder. "I bet she is not lip-syncing."
"We need a chance to talk with her alone." Sam tried to at the same time shout over the music and keep his voice low enough as not to draw unwarranted attention. He didn't need to worry about it; people around them cared very little anything past the music.
"That's easy. There." Dean shouted back, obviously much less worried about who might hear him, pointing towards the door reading 'Crew'.
”...And something's got to change, 'cause our love's the slowest moving train.”
As the song ended, the force of applauds and cheering was deafening. It was some work to try push through the crowd packed tightly around the stage, but Sam managed and Dean got the easy task of following. The Crew door was not locked, which was rather surprising. There was just long dank corridor, piled up with assorted beverage creates and extra chairs. The corridor continued behind the corner in both directions. Before they had a chance to decide which way to go, the door opened again and the girl in question stepped in, bumping straight into them.
"Oh, I'm so sorry... Sam?"
"Hi Theresa."
"What are you doing here? I haven't seen you since I was playing in California!"
"We came to see you sing. This is..."
"Dean. Quite a show you got there.
For Sam it seemed that Dean’s wolfish grin threw Theresa off balance somehow, but she covered her surprise very well, pulling up a polite front.
"Glad you liked it. But what are you doing here? This is the crew area. The party is out there." She said it lightly, like she was just joking. Sam saw the glimmer of worry in her eyes. She didn't move her hand from the door handle, and kept her back against it. Sam had no doubt that she would take a run for it if either one of them would give her reason for it. Sam couldn't really blame her for being cautious. They had only met in few parties two years ago, just enough to know a name and recognize the face but not really being even acquaintances. Dean in other hand seemed to care very little what Theresa thought or said.
"Yeah, we have seen the party. You collect quite a group around. Any chance that would be something else than just loyal fandom? "
"Something like what?" Theresa asked her eyes suddenly sharp and her hand squeezing the door handle tighter. Sam tried to signal Dean to cut it out, but he seemed to take none of it.
"You know, sudden sense of being evil? Feeling need to control people just for the kick of it? Scary nightmares and such?"
"Dean!" Sam just couldn't believe he had actually gone and said that, flat out. He fully expected Theresa to take a run for it now and turned to explain that in fact his brother was mental and she shouldn't worry about it, and they would be heading out right about now and no need to call the bouncers, thank you very much. Instead of freaking out, Theresa just flashed a tired smile to Dean. The kind of smile that said that she had heard it thousand times before already, had hoped for something new and just got disappointed as expected. It was an old smile, in sharp clash with her age.
"Are you the type who shoves brochures to me, telling that I'm an abomination or more on the violent side?"
"I've often opted for violence, sure. Sam is more into talking."
"DEAN."
"Hm, honesty. That is refreshing. So, what are you guys? The Union of Humanity? You look too scruffy for the Anti-Mutant Movement. No wait, you are a new neo-fascist movement, just waiting to make headlines to get your name some street credit?" There was sudden undertone in her voice, sharp and metallic, the type that emphasized the possibility of serious pain and bleeding through ears.
"No, really, we are not... Wait a minute. You are a mutant?"
Theresa just rolled her eyes, a gesture quite similar with Dean's earlier one. Sam was starting to feel like he was being the punch line of a cosmic joke.
"You don't even know if I'm a mutant? Good god, either you are the worst mutant bashers I have ever met or you are writing the Idiots Guide to the Hate Crime! Seriously, just forget it. I can do hell lot more than just whistle a pretty tune, so why don't you guys just walk out like good little boys, and we forget this conversation ever happened, hm?" Theresa suggested and her voice scraping their ears in uncomfortable way. She opened the door for them, holding it like a bouncer.
Before Dean had a chance to say something even more stupid than before, Sam grabbed a hold of his arm and dragged him to the door.
"I'm so sorry Theresa, honestly this was a just mistake."
"Good that you can see it. Don't bother visiting again." The coldness in her voice almost crystallized in the air.
Dean just had to quip something clever when he passed her, but the crowd outside was making such a racket that whatever Dean said got lost in the noise. Sam was grateful about that, he had no doubt that they shouldn’t push this envelope much more. It was easier to get out of the club than other way around. When they were back on the street, Sam let Dean go and not too gently.
“What was that? Are you brain dead or something? She could have eviscerated us through our ears!”
“First, that’s not anatomically possible and second, what’s the problem? She is not what we are looking for, simple as that. Besides, you have met her and you could not figure out she is a mutant? You are loosing your edge Sam.”
“What ever. Next time you stay in the car.”