littledoglaughed (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
littledoglaughed) wrote2007-08-31 01:09 pm
littledoglaughed) wrote2007-08-31 01:09 pm
Entry tags:
Supernatural/Laser Cats/New Testament crossover fic: The Fig Tree Will Endure
Originally posted at my main journal, just archiving this here so I can find it.
Title: The Fig Tree Will Endure
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Jesus of Nazareth, fig tree
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13 for strongly implied Wincest and probable blasphemy. Good times.
Words: ~1700
Summary: What if Dean and Sam Winchester were disciples of Jesus? And what if they had laser cats?
Disclaimers: I've barely even seen Supernatural, and if anyone can truly own Laser Cats, they are the property of NBC.
Author's notes:Blamed on Lovingly dedicated to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
smidgy06, since she started it. ::blows kisses:: Written in one day, unbeta'd. You don't have to have seen Supernatural or gone to Sunday School to understand this, but you might get extra prizes if you have.
Their boots were lifting small clouds of dust. Dean was glad they weren't wearing hippie sandals like everyone else they had seen in the past... however long it had been, especially since Sam had commented that the sandals looked practical and attractive in such a hot climate. God save me from being so gay, Dean thought. Then felt a little paranoid and wondered if Jesus had mind-reading powers.
Sam stopped in the middle of the path.
"Why does he talk like that?" he said.
"Who?"
"Jesus. You know, 'thou,' 'verily' and all that," Sam said.
"He sounds like Yoda to me."
"I'm serious, Dean."
"It's Bible days, numbnuts," Dean said, cuffing Sam on the back of the head with what was intended as affection.
"I know, but that means we're in the Middle East, and he's speaking English. Really weird English."
Dean considered this. "Bible English," he shrugged. "We've dealt with enough religious freaks to know that when we hear it."
Sam wasn't satisfied. "But how would King James era English have occurred in the 30s A.D.? Time traveling conquerers from the early British Empire?" he mused.
"No way," Dean threw up his hands. "This is NOT a time travel fic," he said urgently, as if speaking it could make it so.
*
The day before, Dean recalled as they continued walking, there had been an interesting business with a donkey and crapload of palm branches. He'd had no logistical or moral problems with the theft of the colt; jacking a vehicle was necessary sometimes in the name of evil-fighting, though he had just had to trust Jesus's judgment that an impromptu parade through town was an important part of defeating the forces of darkness. What Dean didn't like was the behavior of the crowds. They were getting more and more hypnotically adoring lately, and mass emotion like that didn't just happen, in his experience, without something driving it. Usually something with bad intentions. If that emotion broke, the tide could turn in the other direction as quick as a demon-possessed man could snap your neck.
Then there was the thing with the fig tree. Jesus wanted breakfast, and he had led them all the way across a valley to this tree that apparently was supposed to have fruit, but it didn't, so Jesus had cursed it. Except, as Sam told him later—apparently Sam was a horticultural expert on the Middle East now—it wasn't supposed to have fruit; it wasn't fig season. Jesus must have known that. He was always talking about mustard seeds and crops and crap. It was just weird. For the hundredth time, Dean reminded himself that he just wasn't meant to understand everything. He was there to take care of people.
He had felt better when it looked like Jesus was giving them a job to do. "Verily," the Teacher had said, "I must now seek out and purge hypocrisy and extortion that lieth the House of God. Whither I am going, ye cannot come. But this for me ye mayest do: go thou unto the countryside above the next town, where thou shalt find among the tombs a man with an unclean spirit. This man has been often bound with fetters and chains, and the chains have been plucked asunder by him, and the fetters broken in pieces: neither can any man tame him. Drive the unclean spirit from this man, you must, and then my Father shalt be well pleased."
While Dean was still trying to figure out exactly what they were supposed to do, Sam questioned, "Master, we've had some experience with unclean spirits, as I'm sure you know, but what if this is a kind we've never seen? We've been feeling a little out of place around here, to be honest. Sir."
Jesus just looked at him with that kindly expression Dean couldn't fathom and found a little irritating—not that he would have admitted it to anybody—and responded, "Verily I say unto you, that whosoever shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that those things which he saith shall come to pass; he shall have whatsoever he saith. Therefore I say unto you, What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them."
*
Dean had been skeptical about the belief speech, or as he thought of it, the "clap if you believe in fairies" speech, until they ran into the man with the demon. Dude was as wild and woolly as his reputation. Dean was soon occupied trying to prevent his eyes from being clawed out, and he lost track of Sam. He was sure he was losing the fight, when the man simply backed away, his eyes, if possible, looking more crazed than before.
Dean looked behind him. Sam was standing there holding a white, fluffy cat as if it were a rifle.
Sam was holding a cat like a rifle.
"Sam," Dean said slowly, "why are you holding a cat like a rifle?"
Sam ignored him and addressed the demon. "Who are you?" he called.
"MY NAME IS LEGION," the demon said through the man in a computer-enhanced voice like all demons, "FOR WE ARE MANY."
Demons, Dean thought, always such drama queens.
Sam was still holding the cat on the demons. "If you don't leave that man alone, I'm going to shoot you."
"Shoot you?!" Dean was having more and more trouble with this so-called reality. "With hairballs?"
"NOT THE LASERS, WE BEG OF YOU."
"Wanna propose another option?" Sam offered. "Because you're not staying, and you're not just going free to torture somebody else."
"SEND US INTO THE PIGS."
Dean looked down the hill in the direction the poor man was indicating. Damned if there wasn't a herd of pigs. He hadn't noticed them before, which was strange; there were easily thousands of them.
He decided to join the conversation. "Fine," Dean called out to the demons, "the pigs are yours, but you have to stay away from any human settlement, got that? We've got salt and we're not afraid to use it."
"Dean!" Sam hissed. "What are you doing? Those pigs are probably the livelihood of half the village, and what if they die? Can you imagine the sanitation disaster a couple thousand dead swine would be?"
But it was too late. The man was already lying on the ground before them, panting but clear-eyed and sane, and a screaming wind was billowing with dust as it charged toward the herd of pigs.
"Quick, grab a cat!" Sam told Dean, "We've got to stop them."
"Woah, woah, woah," Dean grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry. A CAT? What the freaking freak is going on?"
Sam grunted impatiently. "You were getting attacked, I was trying to help but I couldn't, so I thought about what Jesus would do. And I asked for help and believed! And then this cat walked up to me, and there was another one over there. And man," Sam grinned and nodded, "they shoot lasers out of their mouths."
Dean was speechless for a second. "Okay, and it's not just that. Since when were demons afraid of lasers?"
Sam cocked his head, looking for all the world like a quizzical pound puppy. Like all laser cats, the Persian in Sam's arms was psychically connected to the omniscient narrator, and it hissed at the puppy comparison.
Sam shrugged. "We don't know, we've never tried lasers on them. We're just usually not in that kind of show. Who the hell knows?" He cleared his throat. "And, um, while we've been trying to work out the non-existent logic of this plot, the pigs have been possessed. And they look angry."
Swearing, Dean shook his head, walked over, and picked up the other cat, a small calico with an exceptionally long tail.
"They're pump action," Sam advised.
And so began a battle the likes of which the brothers had rarely seen except in season finales. Legs were mauled, bodies trampled, olive trees knocked down, pigskins fried, blood mingled, and whiskers bent. In the end, the demons, so terrified by Sam and Dean's rain of laser fire that they attempted to drown the herd in a lake, were corralled inside a cave on the beach. Having left Sam wounded further down the shore, Dean bullied the demons into taking up residence in a colony of bats and returning the remaining pigs to the villagers.
"DAMN THOSE LASER CATS," the demon hoard hissed as it flew into the bats.
*
An hour later, Sam was propped up against the fruitless fig tree.
Dean put down his laser cat, which immediately began grooming itself, the laser tongue causing its fur to crackle with red static electricity. Dean addressed Sam. "I'm too emotionally constipated to express myself in ways other than teasing and wry humor. But you almost got killed today, and I saved you and tended your wounds, and I think now we're supposed to have sex."
"What, here under this fig tree?" Sam was incredulous. "We should at least find a hut or something. And what if Jesus finds out?"
"Dude, JESUS wants us to sleep together. Why else would we be the only well developed, complex, and emotionally intertwined characters on the show? That are still alive, I mean. And I don't care about what I thought earlier about the sandals, in case you've somehow developed new mental powers and you heard that."
"Sandals? What the hell are you talking about, Dean?"
"Sorry, I don't know. I just know I'm irresistibly compelled to start nuzzling your neck right now. Put down your laser cat."
*
References
Mark 5
Mark 11:12-14, 20-21
Isaiah 34:4
Laser Cats
Title: The Fig Tree Will Endure
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Jesus of Nazareth, fig tree
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13 for strongly implied Wincest and probable blasphemy. Good times.
Words: ~1700
Summary: What if Dean and Sam Winchester were disciples of Jesus? And what if they had laser cats?
Disclaimers: I've barely even seen Supernatural, and if anyone can truly own Laser Cats, they are the property of NBC.
Author's notes:
smidgy06, since she started it. ::blows kisses:: Written in one day, unbeta'd. You don't have to have seen Supernatural or gone to Sunday School to understand this, but you might get extra prizes if you have.Their boots were lifting small clouds of dust. Dean was glad they weren't wearing hippie sandals like everyone else they had seen in the past... however long it had been, especially since Sam had commented that the sandals looked practical and attractive in such a hot climate. God save me from being so gay, Dean thought. Then felt a little paranoid and wondered if Jesus had mind-reading powers.
Sam stopped in the middle of the path.
"Why does he talk like that?" he said.
"Who?"
"Jesus. You know, 'thou,' 'verily' and all that," Sam said.
"He sounds like Yoda to me."
"I'm serious, Dean."
"It's Bible days, numbnuts," Dean said, cuffing Sam on the back of the head with what was intended as affection.
"I know, but that means we're in the Middle East, and he's speaking English. Really weird English."
Dean considered this. "Bible English," he shrugged. "We've dealt with enough religious freaks to know that when we hear it."
Sam wasn't satisfied. "But how would King James era English have occurred in the 30s A.D.? Time traveling conquerers from the early British Empire?" he mused.
"No way," Dean threw up his hands. "This is NOT a time travel fic," he said urgently, as if speaking it could make it so.
*
The day before, Dean recalled as they continued walking, there had been an interesting business with a donkey and crapload of palm branches. He'd had no logistical or moral problems with the theft of the colt; jacking a vehicle was necessary sometimes in the name of evil-fighting, though he had just had to trust Jesus's judgment that an impromptu parade through town was an important part of defeating the forces of darkness. What Dean didn't like was the behavior of the crowds. They were getting more and more hypnotically adoring lately, and mass emotion like that didn't just happen, in his experience, without something driving it. Usually something with bad intentions. If that emotion broke, the tide could turn in the other direction as quick as a demon-possessed man could snap your neck.
Then there was the thing with the fig tree. Jesus wanted breakfast, and he had led them all the way across a valley to this tree that apparently was supposed to have fruit, but it didn't, so Jesus had cursed it. Except, as Sam told him later—apparently Sam was a horticultural expert on the Middle East now—it wasn't supposed to have fruit; it wasn't fig season. Jesus must have known that. He was always talking about mustard seeds and crops and crap. It was just weird. For the hundredth time, Dean reminded himself that he just wasn't meant to understand everything. He was there to take care of people.
He had felt better when it looked like Jesus was giving them a job to do. "Verily," the Teacher had said, "I must now seek out and purge hypocrisy and extortion that lieth the House of God. Whither I am going, ye cannot come. But this for me ye mayest do: go thou unto the countryside above the next town, where thou shalt find among the tombs a man with an unclean spirit. This man has been often bound with fetters and chains, and the chains have been plucked asunder by him, and the fetters broken in pieces: neither can any man tame him. Drive the unclean spirit from this man, you must, and then my Father shalt be well pleased."
While Dean was still trying to figure out exactly what they were supposed to do, Sam questioned, "Master, we've had some experience with unclean spirits, as I'm sure you know, but what if this is a kind we've never seen? We've been feeling a little out of place around here, to be honest. Sir."
Jesus just looked at him with that kindly expression Dean couldn't fathom and found a little irritating—not that he would have admitted it to anybody—and responded, "Verily I say unto you, that whosoever shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that those things which he saith shall come to pass; he shall have whatsoever he saith. Therefore I say unto you, What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them."
*
Dean had been skeptical about the belief speech, or as he thought of it, the "clap if you believe in fairies" speech, until they ran into the man with the demon. Dude was as wild and woolly as his reputation. Dean was soon occupied trying to prevent his eyes from being clawed out, and he lost track of Sam. He was sure he was losing the fight, when the man simply backed away, his eyes, if possible, looking more crazed than before.
Dean looked behind him. Sam was standing there holding a white, fluffy cat as if it were a rifle.
Sam was holding a cat like a rifle.
"Sam," Dean said slowly, "why are you holding a cat like a rifle?"
Sam ignored him and addressed the demon. "Who are you?" he called.
"MY NAME IS LEGION," the demon said through the man in a computer-enhanced voice like all demons, "FOR WE ARE MANY."
Demons, Dean thought, always such drama queens.
Sam was still holding the cat on the demons. "If you don't leave that man alone, I'm going to shoot you."
"Shoot you?!" Dean was having more and more trouble with this so-called reality. "With hairballs?"
"NOT THE LASERS, WE BEG OF YOU."
"Wanna propose another option?" Sam offered. "Because you're not staying, and you're not just going free to torture somebody else."
"SEND US INTO THE PIGS."
Dean looked down the hill in the direction the poor man was indicating. Damned if there wasn't a herd of pigs. He hadn't noticed them before, which was strange; there were easily thousands of them.
He decided to join the conversation. "Fine," Dean called out to the demons, "the pigs are yours, but you have to stay away from any human settlement, got that? We've got salt and we're not afraid to use it."
"Dean!" Sam hissed. "What are you doing? Those pigs are probably the livelihood of half the village, and what if they die? Can you imagine the sanitation disaster a couple thousand dead swine would be?"
But it was too late. The man was already lying on the ground before them, panting but clear-eyed and sane, and a screaming wind was billowing with dust as it charged toward the herd of pigs.
"Quick, grab a cat!" Sam told Dean, "We've got to stop them."
"Woah, woah, woah," Dean grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry. A CAT? What the freaking freak is going on?"
Sam grunted impatiently. "You were getting attacked, I was trying to help but I couldn't, so I thought about what Jesus would do. And I asked for help and believed! And then this cat walked up to me, and there was another one over there. And man," Sam grinned and nodded, "they shoot lasers out of their mouths."
Dean was speechless for a second. "Okay, and it's not just that. Since when were demons afraid of lasers?"
Sam cocked his head, looking for all the world like a quizzical pound puppy. Like all laser cats, the Persian in Sam's arms was psychically connected to the omniscient narrator, and it hissed at the puppy comparison.
Sam shrugged. "We don't know, we've never tried lasers on them. We're just usually not in that kind of show. Who the hell knows?" He cleared his throat. "And, um, while we've been trying to work out the non-existent logic of this plot, the pigs have been possessed. And they look angry."
Swearing, Dean shook his head, walked over, and picked up the other cat, a small calico with an exceptionally long tail.
"They're pump action," Sam advised.
And so began a battle the likes of which the brothers had rarely seen except in season finales. Legs were mauled, bodies trampled, olive trees knocked down, pigskins fried, blood mingled, and whiskers bent. In the end, the demons, so terrified by Sam and Dean's rain of laser fire that they attempted to drown the herd in a lake, were corralled inside a cave on the beach. Having left Sam wounded further down the shore, Dean bullied the demons into taking up residence in a colony of bats and returning the remaining pigs to the villagers.
"DAMN THOSE LASER CATS," the demon hoard hissed as it flew into the bats.
*
An hour later, Sam was propped up against the fruitless fig tree.
Dean put down his laser cat, which immediately began grooming itself, the laser tongue causing its fur to crackle with red static electricity. Dean addressed Sam. "I'm too emotionally constipated to express myself in ways other than teasing and wry humor. But you almost got killed today, and I saved you and tended your wounds, and I think now we're supposed to have sex."
"What, here under this fig tree?" Sam was incredulous. "We should at least find a hut or something. And what if Jesus finds out?"
"Dude, JESUS wants us to sleep together. Why else would we be the only well developed, complex, and emotionally intertwined characters on the show? That are still alive, I mean. And I don't care about what I thought earlier about the sandals, in case you've somehow developed new mental powers and you heard that."
"Sandals? What the hell are you talking about, Dean?"
"Sorry, I don't know. I just know I'm irresistibly compelled to start nuzzling your neck right now. Put down your laser cat."
*
And lo in those days, the cest of Win will be so perfect
that all the stars of the heavens will be dissolved
and the sky rolled up like a scroll;
all the starry host will fall
like withered leaves from the vine;
the roots of the fig tree will be shaken loose from the earth,
but though it be cursed, the fig tree will endure.
References
Mark 5
Mark 11:12-14, 20-21
Isaiah 34:4
Laser Cats