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Into the MST: A Threefold Cord Unraveled- Pt 1

April 24th, 2012 (07:14 pm)

current mood: geeky
current song: Tubular Boobular-- Satellite of Love Crew

(Note: just assume that the MSTing characters know nothing about the Winchester family saga. It’s their viewpoint in-universe. Ranzer and Deloth are humans, Alexia is a dragonoid.)



"Are you all right?"

Dean rolled his throbbing head enough to see Cas sitting in the bedside chair, the angel's gaze fixed more on the ceiling than on him.

Alexia: *Castiel* “Disengaging mold analyzation. Engaging conversation module. Please wait.”

Dean turned his face away, swallowed against the burning rawness in his throat. "No thanks to you."

Cas shifted in the chair. "You need to be more careful."

Deloth: Ah, Dean’s being visited by the Ghost of Christmas Obvious. Dickens cut him out of the final script.

Dean cut his eyes towards the angel. "You need to learn how to manage a damn devil's trap."

Cas still did not quite meet his eyes. "That's not what I mean. Uriel is dead."

"Was it the demons?"

Ranzer: Nope, the poor sap just tried to make toast while taking a bath. When will they learn?

"It was disobedience," Cas answered, almost on the heels of his question. The angel's neutral expression altered subtly. He licked his lips and for the first time, turned to look fully into Dean's face. "He was working against us."

Deloth: “Y… you can stop licking your lips now.”

Alexia: “I can’t help it. You smell like cheeseburgers… yesssssss.”

Deloth: “SECURITY”

Cas's gaze drifted away once more, as if he were watching or listening to something far beyond this hospital room.

Alexia: What? Is he using his wireless headset to pick up Heaven’s podcast?

Dean swallowed again, this time trying to ease a pain worse than the irritation in his throat. He drew a deep breath, and another one, to force the question out. "Is it true?"

Ranzer: “Will this throat irritation really give me a manly, gravelly voice? Or did you lie to me about that, too? DID YOU?!”

Cas turned to look at him again, his placid expression altered by lines of tension between his brows.

Deloth: “Ask.com module loaded. Submit question.”

"Did I break the first seal? Did I start all this?"

Deloth: “500 Error, bad gateway. Try again later.”

The lines between Cas's brows deepened, and he gave the slightest of nods. "Yes."

The last shred of hope he had crumbled to dust and Dean looked away, almost unable to breathe through the pain.

"When we discovered Lilith's plan for you," Cas's deep voice coarsened with a savage edge. "We laid siege to Hell and we fought our way to get to you before you—"

Deloth: “Submitted the five thousand dollars to Nigeria. Don’t you ever check Snopes, you idiot?”

"Jump-started the Apocalypse," Dean choked out.

Ranzer: That reminds me, you guys heard my new garage band, Jump-Start the Apocalypse? It’s pretty tight.

Cas glanced at him then, not with blame, but a deep resigned sadness. He turned his gaze up towards the ceiling. "But we were too late."

Alexia: “Loading OS emotion module.” *whirring and clicking*

"Why didn't you just leave me there, then?" The words came out rushed, forced past nausea and loathing.

Ranzer: Oh, right, Nausea and Loathing is the first album for Jump-Start the Apocalypse. Cool, huh?

"It's not blame that falls on you, Dean," Cas's voice was gentle, and slow, as if he were choosing his words with great care.

Dean felt his lip begin to tremble, and he couldn't stop it. He didn't have the strength to resist the sting of kindness, the blow of empathy.

"It's fate." Cas looked down at his hands, loosely clasped in his lap. "The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it."

Alexia: “At least that’s what this fortune cookie from lunch says. I saved you some chicken, by the way.”

He turned his gaze to Dean, and he felt the crushing weight of Cas's urgency. "You have to stop it."

Ranzer: “Neener neener.”

"Lucifer?" Dean whispered, helpless to hold back the tear that rolled down his cheek. "The Apocalypse? What does that mean?" he pleaded.

Deloth: Well, it’s classified as the end of days, and—oh, you were asking about something else. Never mind.

Cas's gaze turned almost fearful, and he looked away again. His shoulders rounded.

Alexia: “Engaging pneumatic shrug unit.”

"Hey! Don't you go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch." Anger almost pushed out despair. "What does that mean!"

"I don't know." Cas's answer was soft, quick.


Deloth: “…I forgot the second part of that.”

"I don't," Cas stated, his voice firm and flat. He looked at him again, the muted light picking out the eerie blue of his eyes.

Ranzer: Then the nurse comes in, checks his vitals, ruins the whole atmosphere. Thanks a lot.

"Dean, they don't tell me much." Cas's expression and his voice took on urgency again, and import, as if he were trying to load his words

Alexia: Into his mental hard drive. He’s out of memory from playing Skyrim at the same time.

with more meaning than they could carry. "I know our fate rests with you."

"Well, then you guys are screwed," Dean choked out in a whisper. "I can't do it, Cas. It's too big."

Ranzer: Too easy?

Deloth: Too easy. Let it go.

Cas looked away again, a flicker of grief crossing his face before it settled back into its normal somber lines.

"Alastair was right. I'm not all here." Dean's voice broke on a little gasp for breath against a rising sob. "I'm not str-strong enough."

Alexia: “Don’t you understand? I lost all my muscle mass in this bed! I’m really not all here!”

Cas turned to look at him again, and for the first time, Dean saw accusation in those glowing eyes. He couldn't bear it.

Deloth: Glowing? Like, is he about to unleash Cyclops’s eye beams on him?

"Well, I guess I'm not the man either of our dads wanted me to be," he confessed, forcing the words out.

Cas looked away.

Ranzer: “Searching for appropriate response—bandwidth cap reached. Silence chosen.”

"Find someone else." He was so tired. So damned tired and soul-deep sick of all of it. "It's not me."

Alexia: It’s you! Na-na-na-na-naaaaaa…

There was no way to stop the tears. He didn't have enough strength left for that, either. Dean closed his eyes and didn't open them until the rustling of massive wings had long faded away.

Ranzer: And smacked into a glass skylight into the process, startling several nearby nurses and mystifying the mice in the ceiling tiles.


"Man, I'll be glad to get out of here," Dean said. "This place gives me the creeps."

Deloth: Really, shouldn’t any place throw the Winchesters into paranoia by this point?

Sam peered out at the slice of isolated Louisiana countryside revealed by the headlights. "It's not so bad. Lots of trees and water. It's warm. Spanish moss. Wildlife."

Alexia: “Leeches the size of your skull.”

Deloth: “Bloodthirsty alligators.”

Ranzer: “Imported candiru.”

"Spanish moss is spooky. They use that stuff in horror movies for a reason, dude. And the water stinks and it's full of snakes and

Alexia: “And I don’t like spiders and snakes!”

alligators and mosquitoes the size of Huey choppers. And my eyes are still watering from the wildlife that we ran ov---"




"SHIT!" Dean slammed the brakes the same instant Sam shouted, a white flash of something human shaped darting out in front of them.

Tires squalled. THUMP.

Ranzer: Quick, throw the Impala into a powerslide! You can skid around the corner to get a mini-turbo!

The sickening sound of a body landing on sheet metal.

But this body impacted on the hood on all fours and stared in at them through tangled hair and beat a frantic pattern on the windshield. "Drive! DRIVE! HE'LL EAT YOU!"


She looked back over her shoulder, back the way she came, and sprang off with a wild wordless screech. Back towards whatever terrified her.

Deloth: I’d… probably have that as my reaction to getting hit by two crazy demon hunters in a broken-down 40-year-old Impala too, honestly.

No time to ask questions. No need to. They knew what was chasing her as soon as it burst through the tangled brush of the roadside, fangs bared, claws wide. It was too damn close to miss.

Ranzer: Michael Moore!

"DOWN!" Sam bellowed and the girl flung herself onto the dirt. She clapped her hands over her ears as they fired, but she didn't hide her face.

Alexia: “Wait, shit, the auto’s in neutral—“ *KERTHUMP*

Silver rounds from a .45 will change most anything's mind. The werewolf's body jerked and twisted from the impacts and its own momentum. It fell, and neither Dean nor Sam had a doubt it was dead.

Deloth: What with the six bullets from a revolver to the chest and head and all. Hard to be sure, though.

The girl needed more convincing, apparently. She rose and eased closer to the twitching corpse, her body tense.

"Don't touch it," Dean warned her. "It's a werewolf—it could still be contagious."

Ranzer: *facepalm* Really. A werewolf, I would never have guessed. Thank you, you giant muscly font of wisdom.

"Maybe," she murmured, and sank into a fetal crouch. She raked her hair away from her face and jerked all over.

Ranzer: See? It was so obvious that she went into a seizure from indignation!

It was only then that Dean realized she bore four long, shallow, bleeding lacerations across her back, and that she was naked.

Alexia: And it was then that Dean thought back to his hentai stash, and he realized that he was now living in one. And he then did the touchdown dance on the side of the road.

"I'll take care of her," Sam murmured.

Dean nodded with an expression of relieved gratitude. Sam was better with hysterical females.

Deloth: Okay, well, that--

He'd much rather salt and burn than wipe snot and pat and try to think of something reasonably sympathetic to say.

Deloth: …wow, you are one hell of a charmer with the ladies, eh?

Sam took the first-aid kit out of the trunk, along with a blanket and bottle of water. Bottled spring water replaced with the sanctified variety. Dean paused, hand on pistol grip, as Sam went back to the girl and opened the bottle.


Nothing happened when Sam poured it over her bleeding back, except that she looked back at Sam over her shoulder with a shaky smile and a soft "Thank you."

Ranzer: “Oh, wait, that was our vodka.”


Crap. She looked about fifteen. Their night was shot. The girl bowed her head again as Sam wiped away the blood from her wounds. She didn't flinch even when Sam pulled his silver knife and used it to flick a couple of pieces of debris from her raw flesh.

Deloth: This is the best way, you see. Use an unsterilized knife to scrape out dirt, werewolf spittle, and twigs.

Ranzer: Well, he doesn’t have Snake’s CURE menu, man. You gotta make do when you didn’t punch a fruit for disinfectant and then blast a plant with a shotgun to make it randomly drop styptic.

Alexia: “Man, good thing I played all that Trauma Center! Now I have to patch her up within five minutes or she’ll inexplicably drop dead!”

Satisfied now that his brother could handle anything she could dish out, Dean hefted the rock salt and gas can.

Deloth: Ah, THERE’S the disinfectant.

The girl's head snapped up and she sprang to her feet. "Wait!"

She put herself between him and the dead werewolf. "There's something I need to do first!"


Alexia: “T’was beauty killed the beast. Okay, incinerate him.”

Sam mouthed ~What the?~ behind her back, his pistol aimed between her shoulder blades.

Ranzer: And he’s AVAILABLE, ladies!

"It won't take long—it's for his soul." She moved over to the corpse with her back straight and no more sign of fear. She knelt and laid her hands over the blood-spattered face, closing the corpse's eyes and smoothing away its grotesque snarl.

Deloth: Wiping away all the blood splatters, spackling over the multiple exit wounds, stuffing the liquefied brain bits back in…

"Sad, you look human again now, you poor bastard," she told it, her voice low and kind. "You were probably a really nice guy before this. I hope for your sake you didn't eat your family or something."

Alexia: “Oh, I do hope you were a vegetarian werewolf… those are the best kinds, really.”

She dipped a finger into a bullet hole and drew a cross on his forehead. "Réquiem æternam dona ei, Dómine. Et lux perpétua lúceat ei. Requiéscat in pace. Amen."

A touch of her bloodied fingertip to her lips and then she rose and nodded. "Now you can immolate him."

Ranzer: Wait, to her lips? What, is this a cosmetics commercial now for Lycan-brand lipstick?

Dean shuddered. He could see Sam out of the side of his vision, with an equally revolted expression, keeping the girl covered.

"Are you sure you're done?" Dean asked, as he began to pour the salt over the corpse.

Alexia: Mmm, salt-cured werewolf jerky! The best kind, y’know.

Deloth: …No, I don’t know, actually.

Alexia: Well, then, just trust me on this. It totally is.

"I certainly can't help you out with a light." She stepped back and put her hand over her nose when he opened the gas can and began to pour. She moved to put the slight breeze at her back.

Ranzer: All the better to send the flammable gas vapors towards the broadest part of bare skin! Bravo, all of you. *clap clap*

Dean glanced at Sam again.

Sam nodded. He'd noticed too, and holstered his pistol. "Come here," he called to her.

Dean drew his, but kept it at his side as she turned. Sam wrapped the blanket around the girl's shoulders. Dean lit the gas. Through the roar, he heard the girl speak.


"Do you two always go around prepared for convenient corpse disposal?" she asked Sam.

Ranzer: “Actually, we just drive around looking for places to make an impromptu bonfire for marshmallow roasts.”


"Yes, actually." Sam gave her that charming smile that made women want to pat him on the head.  Right before they tied him to a bed and fed him chocolates.

Alexia: Then left him tied up, raided his wallet, and stole his pants before running away laughing.


******Click here to go to Part 2.