Hello friends! This is a random zombie story that has been in my head for a while. It's going to be a bit of a slow crawl to Destiel, but it will get there. My mind is chaos… Enjoy the ride.

General warnings: violence, somewhat graphic scenes, the F-word along with a few others.

Chapter 1

The bathroom mirror was much larger here at his parents' house than the one in his apartment. Castiel slapped himself lightly in the face a couple of times, trying to work up the courage. After years of staying so far in the closet he was practically lying to himself, Castiel had decided he needed to finally come out. He was twenty-two but at times he still felt like a scared thirteen year old. He was tired of living in fear of all the what-ifs.

What if his parents somehow found out? What if they were disgusted with him? What if society didn't accept him? If he decided to tell his coworkers, would they still regard him the same? What if they didn't? What if he never came out and just decided to stay in the closet forever?

He tried to convince himself to believe in other what-ifs. Like, what if they accepted him for who he was and this weight could be lifted off his chest? His parents were of course the first step. If they could accept him then that was all that mattered. And if they couldn't? Well, he'd have to figure things out as he went. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it, if he had to. God, he was stalling way too long. He was surprised his mom hadn't come to check on him yet.

His parents lived in Chicago, while he'd moved to live in the Big Apple. Something that had been a dream of his since he was a child. He'd managed to get a cozy office job, thanks to his father's connections. Castiel was only visiting his parents for the weekend. He had convinced himself at the beginning of the week that this was the time. He was finally going to have the talk with them.

There was a strange sound from downstairs. Castiel opened the bathroom door to try to decipher what the sound had been. Something glass was broken and then his mother started screaming. It was the most chilling sound he had ever heard. He was pretty sure he had never heard his mom scream. With his heart panicking, trying to thud its way out of his chest, he ran down the stairs. The smell of his mom's famous roast assaulted his nostrils, the whole downstairs smelled of a warm family dinner. He quickly scanned the living room and moved to the kitchen.

Castiel froze at the entryway to the kitchen. His eyes didn't seem to want to accept what they were seeing at first. Some sort of animal was on the kitchen floor, just on the other side of the island. It was tearing something apart. There was a puddle of blood and… what were those thick objects in the blood?

He swallowed hard, unsure of what to do next. He quickly looked around the kitchen, hoping to find his mom standing on one of the counters in fear or something. But she was nowhere to be seen. As for this father… Where was he? Had both parents managed to escape? His eyes found their way to the bloody mess on the kitchen floor. There was a pale white hand sticking out from behind the island. Wet ripping sounds could be heard echoing in the suddenly small kitchen.

"M-mom?" He choked out without realizing he'd actually spoken.

The beast from behind the island stopped what it was doing to stand-completely covered in blood- and stare at Castiel. It took a moment for Castiel to see that the beast was none other than his father. Or it used to be. There was no one home in those dead eyes. The horrible mouth opened in some sort of growl and the beast was suddenly running straight towards Castiel.

Run. Fucking run. A voice in his head urged.

Castiel obeyed. He turned and ran for the front door, slamming it behind himself in hopes of slowing the beast down. He looked around the front yard as if expecting to suddenly wake up from this horrible nightmare. There were screams and the sound of things breaking everywhere. He jumped at the sound of the beast ramming into the front door. How could this be happening? Surely he would wake up anytime now. The world seemed to be falling apart. With one last look at his parents' home, Castiel turned and ran. There were people being killed, being eaten alive.

"Help! Help me! Someone please help me!" A voice called nearby. Castiel moved forward, toward the pleading voice. He winced at the sight of his neighbor being torn apart by three of the beasts. He began to back away, but it was too late. They spotted him and he was next on the menu tonight.

Castiel was pretty sure he had never ran so much in his life. The beasts were fast, but seemed to have trouble getting over fences and through doors. Breathing heavily, Castiel took a moment to look around for some sort of weapon. He continued away from the sounds of chaos, searching for a way to arm himself.

"Fuckin' zombie assholes!" Someone yelled angrily up ahead. Castiel froze.

"Yea, come at me bitch! How ya like that?" The man seemed to be fighting these beasts. And he called them zombies. Was that what they were? Castiel had only seen such things on horror movies. He didn't think there was any reality behind them. Castiel edged towards the sound of battle and found that the man was surrounded by zombies. He was fighting them off by himself with some sort of sword. Castiel looked around frantically for some way to help the man.

"Fuck!" The man groaned. He seemed to be just barely keeping the zombies off of himself.

"Hey! Over here!" Castiel was surprised to hear himself calling out to the zombies. There were five of them and they all turned their heads to look directly at him. He stupidly held out his hands to show that he was unarmed and therefore an easier meal. The zombies took the bait and began their awkward run towards him. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Castiel looked past the zombies, to see if the man was okay. The other man's face took him by surprise. He looked completely shocked. It took a moment but he recovered quickly. With the zombies no longer crowding him, the man swung the sword decapitating two zombies in one swing. Castiel turned to possibly run away, only to find the fence he'd previously jumped now had at least six zombies banging against it. On his left was a storage building, on his right another fenced in area. Even if he could make it to the fence in time, the other zombies would follow him and be waiting.

Castiel was knocked to the ground. Something was on his back, hissing, growling. He struggled to get up, to push it off. After a moment of struggling there was a now familiar sound of a sword cutting flesh, and the body on top of him was suddenly dead weight. The body was removed and he found himself being rolled over onto his back.

"Do you have a death wish or something, buddy?" The man asked.

The last thing Castiel remembered was looking up into stunning green eyes and laughing. Then everything went black.

Someone was trying to shake him awake.

"Hey, buddy. Come on. Get up. You don't have a scratch on you. You're fine." The voice was oddly familiar. Like the man from his dream. The crazy zombie fighting man. Castiel frowned and opened his eyes. Green eyes met his own. Like the man from the dream.

"Look man, I'm not going to leave you here after that stunt you pulled. Get up." The man said.

"Not dreaming?" Castiel groaned. The man laughed humorlessly.

"Unfortunately this shit is real. Upsidaisy." The man said as he helped Castiel to his feet.

"What-"

"Can't talk here. I'll take you back to the others. We'll explain things there." The man said.

Castiel found himself being led away from town by the strange man. Everything seemed to pass in a sort of blur. He barely remembers how they managed to get to safety but there they were. There were others talking to him, but he couldn't hear them over the sound of blood in his ears and a faint buzzing sound.

"Poor guy's in shock." A young woman said off to the side.

"He'll be fine. We all had a similar reaction to this shit." Another man said.

"Alright, alright, give the kid some space." An older man said. "Dean, we need to talk about why the hell you were out alone in the first place."

Castiel found himself alone on a couch staring at a boarded up window. The night seemed to come back to him in pieces. He felt numb. Lost.

"Want a beer?" It was the green-eyed zombie fighter. He held a bottle of beer in front of Castiel's face. It felt like his hand moved in slow motion to grab the bottle.

"Got anything stronger?" He asked. The other man laughed.

"Man, I wish."

"Castiel… That's my name. You keep calling me 'man'." Castiel opened the beer and took a swig.

"Alright… Castiel. Name's Dean. You probably could've figured that out if you weren't so out of it earlier." Dean joked. He sat on the couch beside Castiel and started drinking his beer.

"You called them zombies…" Castiel staring down at the beer in his hands.

"Yep. Frickin' horror movie shit out there." Dean leaned back on the couch, leisurely enjoying his beer.

"My parents…" Castiel found his mind back in that kitchen. The smells, the sounds. A hand touched his shoulder, jerking him back to reality. He looked over at Dean. Really looking at him for the first time. He didn't seem to be much older, but he was so sure of himself. His green eyes held sympathy and understanding. While Castiel couldn't remember exactly what the man had been wearing earlier, he was sure that he had changed. He now wore a black Henley with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and faded jeans. The guy cleaned up pretty well. Without all the dirty clothes and gore covering his body he looked like some sort of male model. His features were fairly delicate; small nose, pouty lips, defined cheekbones. A slight stubble seemed to trace his jawline and outline those pouty lips. Staring at the other man helped to distract himself from thoughts of his parents' kitchen.

"So what was up with all the self-sacrificing crap back there?" Dean asked, changing the subject.

"Instinct? I don't know… I just couldn't watch someone else get killed." Castiel shrugged. He had to blink a few times to pay attention to the other man. It helped if he didn't look directly at him, so he looked down.

"Well next time you pull some shit like that you better be armed." Dean advised. Castiel found himself staring at the other man again. Dean met his gaze and smiled slightly.

"Look, get some sleep and we'll talk more tomorrow. A bit of sleep could do ya some good." Dean offered.

"I don't know if I could sleep." Castiel admitted. Dean couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy.

"Doesn't hurt to try. Trust me, you're safe here." Dean patted the other man on the shoulder again.

"You can take the couch for tonight. We'll figure something else out in the morning." Dean added.

"What about you?" Castiel asked, looking up as the other man stood. Dean smirked.

"I have first watch. Can't really sleep anyway." He winked at Castiel. He got a small smile from Castiel.

"I'll get you a blanket. Be right back." Dean said and wandered off. Castiel finished his beer and sat the empty bottle on the coffee table.

Castiel wasn't sure how anyone was supposed to sleep at a time like this. It would be nice to have a bottle of scotch to cuddle up with. Something strong enough to drown out all the horror. Dean returned with a blanket and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Get some sleep, now. You hear me? I know it seems like an impossible thing to sleep through, but you'll feel better. Trust me." Dean gave the other man a reassuring smile.

"I'll try." Castiel agreed and lay back on the couch.

"I'll be here if you need me." Dean said. His eyes seemed to pierce into Castiel's for a moment. Willing him to understand. It was like he was tucking in a child. Don't be afraid of the monsters, sweetie, I'm here. Castiel smiled to himself at this and closed his eyes.

Dean watched over the other man for a moment, wishing there was something more he could do. Hell, he couldn't even acknowledge that the poor guy had apparently seen his parents be killed. Because it had to be that. That or they were the killers. Dean shuddered at the thought of someone he loved being turned into one of those monsters. Poor Castiel could save that sob story for one of the others. Someone who could be emotionally there for him. Maybe give him a shoulder to cry on. Dean had never been good at that sort of thing. If Sammy were here he'd be the right man for the job. Dean sighed and moved to stand by the front window. There was a gap in the boards so he could easily peer out into the night. Tomorrow morning they would be heading out to Bobby's. Away from this godforsaken town and hopefully to a safer location.

A/N: That's it for chapter 1. Reviews are welcome. Stay tuned in for chapter 2.