Title: Demon Tofu IV: The Rise of Lucifer’s Zombie Horde (1/2)
Author: Rusty Armour
Summary: Dean hatches a cunning and dangerous plan to defeat Lucifer.
Word Count: 1,650
Warning: This story contains tofu and the undead!
Spoilers: The Rapture (4.20), Sympathy for the Devil (5.1), Good God, Y’all (5.2)
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 for jackycomelately's birthday and is a sequel to The Time the Winchester Boys Met God or the Terrible Truth About Demon Tofu. Best wishes and many happy returns, jackycomelately! I hope you enjoy this latest story in the Demon Tofu series! :-)
There was someone else in the room. It was dark and Dean was still half asleep, but he could feel someone watching him. He raised himself up on one elbow and squinted in the darkness. Dean could just make out the outline of a figure sitting on the other bed. “Sammy?” he whispered.
The figure on the bed shifted. “No, Castiel.”
“Castiel?” Dean reached across to the bedside table and switched on the lamp. Sure enough, Dean’s favourite angel had been sitting there patiently, waiting for Dean to wake up. Dean rubbed a hand across his face. “Man, don’t you ever sleep?”
Castiel looked puzzled for an instant then shook his head. “No.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should,” Dean said. “You look like shit.”
Castiel frowned. “I have been feeling…different since I was cut off from heaven. My limbs keep growing heavier and I have had difficulty concentrating. It has been a huge struggle to keep my eyes open.”
Dean snorted. “Dude, you’re exhausted. When they cut you off from heaven, they must have also cut off your Red Bull supply.”
Castiel’s brow creased. “Red Bull?”
Dean sighed. “It’s not important. Just get some sleep, Cas.”
“Okay, Dean.” Castiel stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes. “Dean?”
“Yeah?” Dean said.
“Why did you book a double room if you’re travelling alone?” Castiel asked.
Dean winced, glad that Castiel’s eyes were still closed. “Force of habit. That’s all.”
“I see,” Castiel said. Then he drifted off the sleep.
Castiel sat up and stretched, and Dean barely had time to hide the sampler he was cross-stitching. Castiel looked over at Dean and smiled. “I feel much better now,” he said. “I can understand why humans spend so much time sleeping. It is most soothing and refreshing.”
“Yeah, for most people maybe,” Dean grumbled.
Castiel began to stand up and froze. “Dean, I have this pain in my, uh…” Castiel waved vaguely at his groin, and Dean had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.
“The bathroom’s that way,” Dean said, pointing to a door across the room.
“Oh, so it’s–?”
Dean nodded quickly. “Yes, Cas, it’s that.”
“Hmm,” Castiel said. “I think I like sleeping more.” He dashed quickly to the bathroom, and Dean sincerely hoped that he knew what to do because he did not want to go in there.
When the bathroom door opened a couple of minutes later, Castiel smiled again then clutched his stomach. “Dean…”
“What is it now?” Dean demanded.
“I’ve got this kind of ache in my stomach and it just made a sort of…rumbling noise,” Castiel said.
Dean threw up his hands. “What do I look like to you? Dear Abby? Your mother?”
“I don’t know who this dear Abby is, besides someone who must be very special to you, but I don’t have a mother, Dean. You know that.” Castiel rubbed his belly thoughtfully and it growled loudly enough for Dean to hear it.
Dean rose from his bed. “I’m going to grab us some lunch. Then maybe we can discuss the reason why you’re here – other than to sleep on the spare bed, use the bathroom, and get a free meal off me.” Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but Dean raised a hand, cutting him off. “We’ll talk about it when I get back, Cas.” Shaking his head, Dean walked out of his room, wondering how he had managed to exchange one little brother for another.
When Dean returned to the motel room, Castiel was sitting on his bed, studying the cross-stitch sampler. Dean blushed and pretended not to notice, setting the takeout bags down on a table. Castiel was obviously starving because he set the sampler down without any questions and began digging around in one of the bags. Dean watched Castiel eat in amusement, and some trepidation. Castiel was stuffing his face with gusto, putting even his body’s original host to shame, which was really saying something considering how hungry Jimmy had been once he’d lost the angel inside of him.
“Not that I don’t appreciate seeing you,” Dean said, “but, if you could stop packing it away for a second, maybe you could tell me why you’re here.”
Castiel swallowed and dabbed his lips with a napkin. “Well, it’s what we discussed at the hospital, Dean: I want to find God.”
Dean closed his eyes and groaned. “I was afraid you’d say that. Look, Cas, I think it’s great that you’re searching for your daddy, but tracking down God has got to be worse than trying to find a needle in a haystack.”
Castiel crossed his arms and glared at Dean. “If you think so little of my plan then perhaps you should come up with one yourself. Oh, wait. You’ve been too busy shooting down my ideas to do that.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. Sarcasm? That wasn’t something he often heard from Cas. Dean smiled his most charming smile and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s not that I don’t think it’s a good plan, Cas. As far as plans go, it’s one of the best ones I’ve ever heard. But it’s not the plan that’s the problem, buddy: it’s our ability to carry it out. You’re trying to accomplish the impossible.”
“Well, if you have any better suggestions–” Castiel began.
“As a matter of fact, I think I do,” Dean said. “About a year ago, I met this guy named the Doctor, and he told me that demons love tofu, that they just can’t get enough of it.”
Castiel stared at Dean blankly. “Tofu?”
Dean wasn’t surprised that Castiel wasn’t familiar with the wonders of tofu. He doubted it was something Jimmy Novak had ever eaten, and somehow it didn’t seem like the kind of topic that was widely discussed in heaven. However, Dean was prepared. He pulled out the information he had gotten off of Wikipedia and handed it to Castiel, who read it with interest:
Tofu (豆腐), also tōfu (the Japanese spelling), doufu (the Chinese Pinyin spelling), dubu (from the Korean spelling), toufu, or bean curd (the literal translation), is a food of Chinese origin,  made by coagulating soy milk, and then pressing the resulting curds into blocks. There are many different varieties of tofu, including fresh tofu and tofu that has been processed in some way. Tofu has very little flavor or smell on its own, so it can be used either in savory or sweet dishes, and is often seasoned or marinated to suit the dish.
Tofu originated in ancient China ,  but little else is known about the origins of tofu and its method of production. Tofu and its production technique were subsequently introduced into Korea, then Japan during the Nara period, and Taiwan. It also spread into other parts of East Asia as well. This spread likely coincided with the spread of Buddhism as it is an important source of proteins in the religion's vegetarian diet. 
Tofu is low in calories, contains a relatively large amount of iron and contains little fat. Depending on the coagulant used in manufacturing, the tofu may also be high in calcium and/or magnesium. Tofu also contains soy isoflavones, which can mimic natural human estrogens and may have a variety of harmful or beneficial effects when eaten in sufficient quantities.
Castiel grimaced when he’d finished reading Dean’s printout. “Tofu sounds revolting. No wonder demons love it.”
“Hey!” Dean said. “It isn’t just for demons anymore. A lot of humans like it too. I like it.”
Castiel made an effort to look contrite. “I’m sorry if I offended you, Dean. Please tell me how you intend to utilize tofu to defeat Lucifer.”
Dean grinned, almost rubbing his hands together gleefully. “I’m glad you asked, Cas. My plan is to lure some of Lucifer’s demon minions using tofu as bait. Then, once we’ve trapped them, we get them to tell us where Lucifer is hiding.”
Castiel stared at Dean in disbelief. “That’s it? That’s your plan?” He shook his head. “And what do you plan to do once you’ve captured these demons? Torture them until they talk? It won’t work. Even if they knew where Lucifer was, they wouldn’t betray him. They’re terrified of him.”
“What if I promised one of Lucifer’s minions a whole room full of tofu?” Dean asked. “Would that work?”
“No, Dean,” Castiel said. “However, if Lucifer had a sudden hankering for tofu, I’m sure your plan would be brilliant.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed. He was pretty sure that was sarcasm again. “You know, it’s quite possible that Lucifer does like tofu. I know one angel that wolfed down the stuff when I gave it to him.”
Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Who?”
“You,” Dean said. “It’s what you had for lunch: a tofu burger and fries.”
Castiel turned green and a hand flew up to his mouth. Dean seized him by the arm and rushed him to the bathroom. Then he was pushing Castiel down in front of the toilet and guiding his head over the bowl.
“Oh, Cas, that’s nasty,” Dean said as Castiel brought up his entire lunch. “I thought Sammy could hurl, but he doesn’t hold a candle to you.” Dean grabbed a glass off the bathroom counter and filled it under the tap. Castiel accepted the water gratefully and gulped it down.
“Maybe we could use the tofu to poison, Lucifer,” Dean suggested. “Going by your reaction, it doesn’t agree with angels, though you gobbled it down easily enough when I gave it to you.”
Castiel glared at Dean. “That was before I knew it was tofu.”
Dean laughed. “You’re such a princess.” He grasped Castiel by the elbow and hauled him to his feet. “Come on. I’ll tell you more about my plan.”
Castiel shuddered but allowed Dean to lead him out of the bathroom.