Post by James Malcom MacDougal on Oct 23, 2017 0:03:15 GMT -5
[10 Oct]
Jamie sat in the empty room, swinging his legs restlessly as he waited. The paper crinkled, adding counterpoint to his restless movements. He could hear voices murmuring in the hallway, one raised above the rest, but the exam room was well insulated and he couldn't understand words. He sighed, falling back with a crunch of paper. When would this be over with? He hated hospitals. So antiseptic and bright. The lights hurt his eyes.
Finally a silence fell outside the door and it opened after a short knock. The doctor stuck his head in, smiling. Jamie sat up as the three adults filed into the room, first the doctor, then Alex filled the door. He stood there a moment, as if hesitant, but a sharp huff from behind him propelled him forward and he entered, lurking alongside one wall. Jamie's gaze left him and settled on the third person, his mother, who did not look particularly happy.
"He's my son, you have no right!" Morag practically shook with anger as she glared at Alex, then the doctor when he tried to intervene.
"Actually, I do." Alex said calmly, eyes darting to the paper Milton held. An order from the judge, declaring that there would be a paternity test on James MacDougal, against the person of Alecsander Kameren. All to further Alex's quest to acknowledge his son. As he wasn't on the birth certificate and courts don't tend to take "blood curses" or "he looks like me!" as actual evidence of paternity. Thus the judge had ordered a test to find out before the case moved further.
Morag subsided with a last burst in Gaelic, glaring at Alex. After a short pause Milton entered the room, leaving the warring parents to follow in his wake. Alex paused as he entered, caught by a feeling of uncertainty. Morag's huff of impatience propelled him forward finally, and he stood off to one side, looking at Jamie. He took off his robe, baring his arms in the short sleeve shirt he was wearing underneath. He was ready, but he wasn't sure what was required. Milton hadn't had time to explain before Morag had dragged them both out of the room into her little spat.
Post by Max Kameren on Oct 23, 2017 23:27:09 GMT -5
This was highly irregular. The Head of St. Mungo’s Magical Maladies and Injuries rarely did lab work this way, least of all something like a paternity test. That was more a personal peeve of Milton’s; he loathed being caught in the midst of conflict, especially with strangers. But Max had asked, so here he was. Whatever Healer Milton Bonham could do for the Kamerens, he would. After everything that happened with Curse, they’d earned it.
Milton had had their warmest orderly escort young James to the empty examination room while he met with the parents. It was good he had, as it was worse than his protégé had described. The three stood out in the hall in a tight triangle, the healer’s hands clasped around a clipboard filled with their signed paperwork as he listened to the parents snipe at each other.
"He's my son, you have no right!" Morag practically shook with anger as she glared at Alex, then the doctor when he tried to intervene.
"Actually, I do."
“Just because you hold the Kameren family’s silken purse-strings you think you can do anything you fucking – “
“Well then!” Milton interjected with a too-friendly smile, trying to urge peace between the two. He gave up on trying to mediate as he described the blood test out in the hall, instead leading the way up the hall to where their son sat waiting. “Let’s check in on James, shall we?”
With a slow turn of the knob Milton poked his head into the examination room, arching a surprised brow as he smiled warmly in greeting at the young man. He was the very picture of Alex Kameren, save for the crop of auburn hair atop his head. “James MacDougal? Good afternoon!”
The smile was unwavering as Milton attempted to relieve the tension brought about by the parents, Alex removing his robes in resolved silence and Morag seething in the corner. When an expectant silence finally settled into the room Milton cleared his throat: finally, enough peace for him to continue. “Alright, shall we get started then?” His smile slightly faded as he was met with flat stares and he sighed, setting down the clipboard on the Healer’s station and pulling out his wand. “James, please, remove your robes. I only need access to your arm.”
The elder healer turned to his station and pulled out a thin roll of parchment with two tacks on each end and a scalpel, tacking the parchment to the wall and turning to the auror and the student with a reassuring gaze. “I’ll need a spot of blood from the both of you. It’s a simple procedure, and you’ll both leave here without a mark I promise. Just need enough to disassemble onto this parchment here for the lab to compare. Alright?” The healer stepped forward with his scalpel, making a thin slice into Alex’s forearm. When a pound-circumference of blood had pooled on his forearm Milton began, levitating the spot and pulling it closer. “Apply pressure please, Alex. I’ll mend your arm in a moment.”
With a flick of his wand the blood seemed to splay out and freeze into a complex geometric pattern; with another flick it pushed forward, pressing into the parchment tacked onto the wall until it soaked in completely. Milton nodded, satisfied as he marked it A. Kameren. He turned and silently mended Alex’s cut, glancing in his peripheral at the young boy who was so very apparently a product of the two people in front of him. “See? Not so bad. Are you ready, James?”
Post by Alecsander on Oct 24, 2017 22:58:57 GMT -5
Morag settled into the chair in the corner, crossing her legs and staring Alex down as he removed his robes. Alex gave Milton an apologetic look, he hadn't meant to involve him but Max had asked. It was certainly easier with a familiar face, especially as a buffer against Morag. He folded his robe neatly over one arm, standing quietly as Milton prepared for the test, tacking up a parchment and explaining the process.
“I’ll need a spot of blood from the both of you. It’s a simple procedure, and you’ll both leave here without a mark I promise. Just need enough to disassemble onto this parchment here for the lab to compare. Alright?”
He didn't make a sound as the healer sliced his arm, he'd certainly received worse over the years. He'd almost instinctively covered his left arm with most of the demon scars with his robe, feeling uncomfortable with both Morag's anger and Jamie in the room. Alex swung the robe back over his shoulders as soon as Milton was done. He studiously avoided looking towards Morag. He had wanted to avoid conflict today. He gave Jamie an encouraging look as the boy held out his arm somewhat hesitantly.
Post by James Malcom MacDougal on Oct 24, 2017 23:15:46 GMT -5
“James MacDougal? Good afternoon!”
Jamie stared back, his arms folding around his chest. He felt nervous. He didn't know whether he wanted the results to be positive or negative. "Jamie." He said quietly as the other two adults entered. His parents. Possibly. He shifted, feeling more uncomfortable as he could practically feel the anger coming off his mother. Why was she so pissed? He'd never seen her this way. She crossed to the patient chair, taking a seat and seeming to stew in her own anger. Alex removed his outer robe and Jamie stared. He'd seen them before but there was something about the bright hospital light that brought the gouges into starker detail. Alex seemed to feel his gaze, folding the robe over his arm to hide the worse scars.
“Alright, shall we get started then?” His smile slightly faded as he was met with flat stares and he sighed, setting down the clipboard on the Healer’s station and pulling out his wand. “James, please, remove your robes. I only need access to your arm.”
Jamie unfolded his arms, shrugging his school robe off his shoulders, letting it pool on the table as he removed his arms. The doctor continued, taking his wand to Alex's free arm and pulling out blood. Jamie crossed his arms again, almost as if he'd felt a chill. He'd been learning from Aly but he still wasn't used to the slicing and the blood. And to have his mother's gaze alternating between him and Alex, he felt even more uncomfortable.
“See? Not so bad. Are you ready, James?”
"Jamie." He said, still quiet but a little more firmly. He held out his arm, trying to show he could be as stoic as Alex had been. He didn't glance at his mother.
Post by Max Kameren on Oct 26, 2017 21:00:28 GMT -5
As he turned from the parchment Milton caught the acidy glare of Morag burning into the back of Alex’s skull and shot the Head Auror an apologetic look. He did not envy the situation the younger Kameren brother had gotten himself into; by the look of his adversary Alex’s fight for his son would be long and ugly. And he was Alex’s son, most definitely. Even beyond the identical look of the boy to his father, if Max’s mention of the Kameren Blood Curses activating were true it was all but certain. Though too singular to be admitted evidence to the Wizengamot, to a seasoned healer like Milton it said quite a lot.
“See? Not so bad. Are you ready, James?” Milton turned to the boy with a friendly smile, meeting his bright green eyes expectantly.
"Jamie." He said, still quiet but a little more firmly.
“My apologies, Jamie.” Milton nodded apologetically and made a mental note before he took the boy’s arm in his wide hand. The boy tensed in an effort to show the same resolute face Alex had, staring straight forward. “Ready?” He asked a moment before the blade cut neatly into flesh, the thin gouge immediately outlining in bright red. Milton applied a small amount of pressure with his thumb, coaxing the correct amount of blood out so he could claim it with his wand.
“There you are, Jamie. Apply pressure please.” Milton pulled the dab of blood into the air with his wand and with a quick snap of his wand the blood expanded out, forming its own complex geometric pattern and pressing itself into the parchment until it was dry. Satisfied, he turned to Jamie and healed him with a quick graze of an Episky over his wound. Warm brown eyes darted back to the parchment, applying what intermediate knowledge of Genealogical Blood Maps he had to find an indication of the result. With a sigh and a wave of his wand the parchment untacked and rolled, floating to the healer’s station and tucking itself on top of his clipboard.
“I’ll take that map to our interpreters and results should be available sometime tomorrow. I’ll have them sent to both parents - ”
“Parent.” Morag corrected with an arched brow as she stood, arms crossed. “Even if he is the donor he’s hardly earned that title.”
Milton glanced uncomfortably between the two parents as the room fell into a black hole of awkward silence. He tried to smile reassuringly, but his light faded into Morag’s furious glare. Best to just ignore it and barrel on with the procedure., perhaps. “Any Questions?”
Jamie pressed down, shooting a wary glance at his mother. Why was she so angry? Why was she so determined to keep him to herself? Alex buttoned the last button on his robes, moving back so Morag could move past.
“I’ll take that map to our interpreters and results should be available sometime tomorrow. I’ll have them sent to both parents - ”
“Parent.” Morag corrected with an arched brow as she stood, arms crossed. “Even if he is the donor he’s hardly earned that title."
Alex grimaced, but kept silent. Who had wanted who not to be a parent? But Jamie was there, looking between both him and Morag with a look of confusion and doubt. Merlin this was a tangled mess. Morag pushed past him and stood by Jamie, partially blocking him from Alex. "Lets go, Jamie."
Milton glanced uncomfortably between the two parents. “Any Questions?”
"No." she said acerbly as Jamie shrugged his robes back on in silence. "I'll take you back to school." she waited until her son stood, shooting one last icy look at the two malea in the room before they were gone with a crack!
Alex looked apologetically at Milton. "'I'm bsorry you got dragged into this," he said slowly. "Thank you." and then he too was gone.
---
The next day Alex paced impatiently. He knew the results. What they would say, but there was a difference between that and knowing. Irrefutable proof. He felt conflicted, was this the right course? But how could it not be? How could he continue to turn a blind eye to his own flesh and blood? He looked up at the sound of someone else entering the room.