rusty_armour (rusty_armour) wrote,

  • Mood:
  • Music:

The Time the Winchester Boys Met God or the Terrible Truth About Demon Tofu (2/2)

Title: The Time the Winchester Boys Met God or the Terrible Truth About Demon Tofu (2/2)
Author: Rusty Armour
Summary: While Dean and Sam try to work out how and why Dean was sprung out of hell, they have an unexpected encounter with…God. Category: Crossover
Word Count: 2,478
Rating: PG-13
Warning: This story contains not only tofu, and references to the origins of demon tofu, but Doctor Who content as well!
Spoilers: No Rest for the Wicked (3.16), Lazarus Rising (4.1), Utopia (Doctor Who, 3.11), The Sound of Drums (Doctor Who, 3.12), Last of the Time Lords (Doctor Who, 3.13)
Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters and I don't want to own them. Those boys are all dark, twisted and tormented inside, so I'm only willing to make very brief visits to their universe in the interest of birthday fic.
Author's Note: This was written in 2008 for jackycomelately's birthday and is a sequel to The Return of the Demon Tofu: A Supernatural Adventure. I want to thank jackycomelately for putting up with all the Doctor Who content that mysteriously worked its way into this story.

Dean leapt to his feet. Then he and Sam gaped in amazement as a large blue box materialized in their motel room. God also watched as the box appeared, though He seemed more resigned than anything.


When the blue box fully materialized, a door opened and a head with wild spiky hair popped out. “Hello, hello, hello! Is this Illinois, then? September 2008, right?”

It took a couple of tries, but Sam managed to croak out the word, “Yes.”

The man from the blue box grinned at Sam happily. Then the grin grew even wider as he looked past Sam and noticed God.

“I knew it!” the man from the blue box said. “You are alive!”

God shook His head wildly. “No, no, you’re just hallucinating. You’re-you’re still senile.” The man from the blue box rocked on his heels, barely able to contain his glee. “Silly Master! I was able to feel you the moment I arrived on Earth! As if I wouldn’t be able to sense the only other Time Lord in existence!”

Dean and Sam whipped their heads around to stare at the man in the black suit. “Time Lord?”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” the Master shrieked. “I’ll just be sitting there, minding my own business, when you show up and ruin everything! ”

The man from the blue box snorted. “The last time you were ‘minding your own business,’ you brainwashed Britain into electing you as Prime Minister, took over the world, killed a tenth of the population, and set about trying to conquer the universe.”

The Master pouted. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

“Yeah,” Dean chimed in. “It’s his job to kill people and rule the universe: He’s God.”

The Master groaned. “Oh, great,” he murmured. “Here it comes.”

“You posed as God?” the man from the blue box cried. “Again? Wasn’t it enough that you convinced that poor girl in fifteenth century France to lead an army against the English?” He shook his head sadly. “You’re losing your touch, Master. In the old days, you always hatched brilliant new plans. Now you’re recycling old ones.”

The Master shot a venomous look at the man from the blue box. “I hate you. In case I failed to mention it before, I hate you with every fibre of my being. I should have killed you when I had the chance instead of turning you into a wizened old man.”

Dean coughed and raised a hand. “Okay, just so we’re clear,” he said to the man from the blue box, “this guy isn’t God, then?”

A pair of brown eyes regarded Dean sympathetically. “No, he isn’t God.”

Dean nodded, trying to hide his embarrassment. “And I guess you’re not Lucifer.”

The man from the blue box glanced at the Master in outrage. “No, I certainly am not.” He held out a hand to Dean. “I’m the Doctor.”

“His doctor, I hope,” Sam said.

The Doctor’s lips twitched in amusement. “Always,” he answered.

“Oh, shut up,” the Master snapped. “You’re nothing of the kind. You’re my enemy.”

“And your friend,” the Doctor said, “whether you like it or not.”

The Master placed his hands on his hips. “Well, I don’t like it, so there.”

The Doctor tutted softly. “You used to have better comebacks than that too. You really are slipping, Master. You need help. My help. Let me help you.”

“No!” the Master snarled. “I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone’s help!”

The Doctor stared at the Master in disbelief. “You’re a sociopath and a complete loony.”

The Master sniffed disdainfully. “I prefer the term ‘sanity-challenged’.”

“So this guy’s a nutjob as well as a con artist,” Dean said, breaking into the conversation again.

The Doctor nodded glumly. “I’m afraid so. He can hear this constant drumming in his head.”

“It’s really most unpleasant,” the Master added.

Sam studied the Master in interest. “Is there a way to cure it?”

“Possibly,” the Doctor said, “but I doubt he’ll let me.”

The Master grimaced in disgust. “Of course I won’t. I don’t want you groping inside my head.”

Sam’s fascination grew. “You’re able to read people’s minds?” he asked the Doctor.

“If I’m in physical contact, yes,” the Doctor said. “It’s…” He trailed off, looking a bit sheepish. “It’s a bit like a Vulcan mind meld.” The Master snorted in what sounded like laughter and the Doctor glared at him. “It’s something all Time Lords can do.”

Sam’s focus shifted to the Master. “Oh, so you can do it too?”

“You son of a bitch!” Dean shouted before the Master could reply. “He read my mind! That’s how he knew about Binky!”

The Doctor frowned in confusion. “Binky?”

“You don’t want to know,” Sam said.

Dean’s face flushed furiously and when he took a step towards the Master, the Master actually moved back. “When did you do it and why can’t I remember?” Dean demanded.

The Master grinned, though it did nothing to alleviate Dean’s anger. “When you were in hell,” he said, “I assumed you would block it out the same way you would block out your other memories. Most people do the first time they’re in hell. I know I did.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “You were in hell with me and it wasn’t your first time?”

The Master yawned. “Oh, no, I’ve been there a few times.”

“He has a habit of dying,” the Doctor said. “A lot.”

Sam stared at their two guests, a stunned expression on his face. “But-but how is that even possible? You talk like he’s been around for centuries.”

The Doctor squirmed uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. “It’s a very long story.”

“You can skip ahead to the part where this bastard was sent to hell,” Dean said. “His most recent trip,” he added in case the Doctor felt it was necessary to provide him with a full history. Then Dean regretted the question when he saw the haunted look in the Doctor’s eyes.

“Oh, for the love of Rassillon,” the Master grumbled. “It’s been over a year, Doctor. Get over it already.” Adjusting his tie, which was already painfully straight, the Master fixed his dark mad eyes on Dean. “It’s very simple, really. My wife shot me and I died. End of story.”

“It bloody well is not!” the Doctor shouted. “I begged you to regenerate, but you died just to spite me!”

The Master sniggered then hid his laughter behind a cough when he saw the Doctor reaching for his sonic screwdriver.

“Hold on,” Sam said. “You guys can regenerate?”

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s complicated.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, after I built a funeral pyre and burnt the body—”

Dean laughed. “You built a funeral pyre? Whose body did you think you were burning? Darth Vader’s?”

“He always was a drama queen,” the Master whispered. “You should have seen the way he was blubbing as I lay dying in his arms.”

The Doctor eyed the Master coldly. “You have yet to explain why you invaded this young man’s mind.”

Remembering that he was supposed to be mad at the Master, Dean growled, “Yeah, you haven’t.”

The Master shrugged. “I was bored,” he said. “Well, that and the boy didn’t look like he belonged in hell. I suppose I was satisfying my own curiosity more than anything.”

“And did you?” Sam asked. “Satisfy your curiosity, I mean?”

“Well, I discovered that the only reason your brother was in hell was because he made a pact to save your life,” the Master said. “That was when I decided that it might be a good idea to stay close to the boy and keep an eye on him.”

The Doctor smiled in delight. “You wanted to protect him.”

The Master rolled his eyes. “Oh, please,” he said. “I did it because I knew that someone would probably try to spring him. I knew that if I was patient and bided my time, I would have a means to escape.”

Dean’s brow creased as he tried to follow the Master’s logic. “But Castiel pulled me out of hell. How did that help you?”

The Master couldn’t help looking smug. “I grabbed on to your ankle and hitched a ride.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “What?” he said. “But-but you weren’t there when I got out. I came to in my coffin and didn’t see any sign of you…thank God.”

The Master gave a mock shudder. “Oooh. Creepy. How very Edgar Allan Poe. Well, to answer your question, I ended up in Bloomington, Illinois. As I didn’t have any money on me, I had to get a lift from a pig farmer and his family.” He glanced at the Doctor. “It was so dreadful, it actually made me long for Malcassairo.”

The Doctor bit his lip. “That’s bad.”

The Master nodded. “Tell me about it.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Sam said. “Back up a second!”

“What is it, Sammy?” Dean asked.

Sam couldn’t quite conceal the worried look on his face. “If the Master snuck out of hell then who knows what’s going to be coming after him.”

“Well, hell, Sammy, it’s not as if the demons gave me a permission slip either,” Dean said.

“Yeah, but Castiel has been acting as your protector,” Sam explained. “Unless, he’s providing the same service for the Master then we could be in some serious trouble.”

The Doctor slapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder, causing Sam to jump. “There’s only one thing for it. We’ll have to bribe the hell demons.”

“Bribe the hell demons?” Dean and Sam said in unison. Then they gaped at the Doctor as if he were the one who was sanity-challenged.

The Doctor nodded eagerly. “Yes. I have it on good authority that hell demons love tofu, especially the tofu found on the planet Vegana, in the Organa sector.”

Dean and Sam shot the Doctor a wary look. “The planet Vegana?”

“Of course,” the Doctor said. “It’s where all the best tofu comes from, which makes sense considering that Vegana is where tofu originated from. Isn’t that right, Master?”

The Master, who had been edging slowly towards the door, froze then smiled brightly. “You betcha.”

“And hell demons love tofu?” Sam asked, and even he could hear the skepticism in his voice. If the Doctor noticed his tone, he ignored it.

“The inhabitants of Vegana are actually descended from demons,” the Doctor said, “so it’s not as unusual as you might think.”

Dean looked like he might burst into tears. “Tofu comes from demons?”

The Master also seemed a little chagrined. “What do you mean the inhabitants of Vegana are descended from demons? I slept with the Green Goddess. I think I would have noticed if she was a demon, mate.”

The Doctor winced. “Somehow I doubt that considering that you also failed to notice that the Green Goddess is, in fact, a he.”

The Master’s eyes widened almost comically. “How can the Green Goddess be a he?”

“He thought ‘Green Goddess’ had a better ring to it than ‘Green God’,” the Doctor explained. “He was also extremely fond of Green Goddess salad dressing, which apparently sealed the deal in the end.”

“So you’re saying I slept with a man,” the Master said. “A man.”

The Doctor crossed his arms. “You know, if you engaged in foreplay once in a while, you wouldn’t run into these kinds of problems. I bet Lucy wouldn’t have killed you if you’d been a more thoughtful lover.”

The Master raised his eyebrows. “Are you giving me marital advice? The man who has screwed up his relationship with every single companion he’s ever had?”

“I have not!” the Doctor cried. When the Master just stared at him, the Doctor said, “All right, I’ve screwed up maybe half of them.”

The Master smiled triumphantly. “I rest my case.”

Before the Doctor could respond, Sam threw up his hands in frustration and said, “I can’t believe you guys are arguing about sex when a hell hound could come crashing through that door at any second!”

The Doctor eyed the door thoughtfully. “He’s right. We’d better head to Vegana to pick up that tofu, Master.”

We?” the Master said.

The Doctor put his hands on his hips. “This is your mess and you’re the one who has a history with the Green Goddess.”

The Master frowned. “But you’ll imprison me in the TARDIS.”

The Doctor rubbed his face wearily. “You know I can’t let you roam free. You’re a menace to society: every society. No, I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me. It’s the TARDIS or hell, Master.”

The Master looked thoughtful for a moment. “Could I have some time to think about it?”

“All right, that’s it!” Sam said. He grabbed a hold of the Master and put him in a headlock.

“Oi!” the Master cried. “Watch the suit!”

Dean rushed over and grabbed the Master’s feet. Then he and Sam were hauling the struggling Time Lord into the air.

“Where do you want him?” Dean asked the Doctor.

“The TARDIS, please,” the Doctor said. “Uh, that’s the big blue box over there.”

Dean glanced at the TARDIS doubtfully. “Are you sure? There’s not going to be a lot of room in there.”

The Doctor smiled. “Trust me. It won’t be a problem.” He pushed open the door of the TARDIS, his smile growing wider when Dean and Sam threw the Master inside. “Thank you for all of your help,” the Doctor said, shaking hands with both brothers. Then he stepped inside the TARDIS and closed the door.

Dean shook his head as he and Sam watched the blue box disappear. “What a couple of freaks.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, they were certainly something. Do you really think they were all those things they claimed to be?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “I’m still coming to terms with tofu being demon food.”

Sam placed a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sure it was just a ruse to fool the Master.”

Dean’s eyes gleamed with hope for the first time in months. “Do you really think so?”

“Well, if you like it then how can it be demon food?” Sam said. “You’re a Winchester. It wouldn’t be right.”

Dean broke into a grin. “Yeah, that’s true. I couldn’t possibly like tofu if it was demon food. Thanks, Sammy.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably under Dean’s affectionate gaze. “Don’t thank me yet. There’s still one issue we need to deal with.”

“Oh?” Dean said. “And what’s that?”

Sam took a deep breath. “Well, if the Master isn’t God then who is? And, more importantly, what does He want with you, Dean?”

Part One

Tags: demon tofu, doctor who, fic, supernatural
  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened