First things first.

This is a birthday fic for the marvelous, awesometastic, amazeballs, wonderful Scoobert0. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Also.

I'm really, really, really, really sorry this is late. I'm such a damn, dirty procrastinator. I hope you guys wished her a happy birthday too.

So yeah. Anyway. I asked her if she wanted a fic for her b-day, naturally she said yes, gave me the prompt for zombies, h/c and fluff and some D/C. This is what I managed to come up with. It turned out a bit angstier than I intended, but I hope it's okay anyway.

In the future there will probably be more added, don't ask when because I don't know when. I have too much other shit to work on. Mini-bang and twincest included. *headdesk*

Anyway. Big thanks to Comedicdrama, he held my hand, beta'd and reminded me to focus while I was writing this. I wouldn't have gotten this out in the time I did. So massive thanks to him, I'd snuggle him if I could.

Anyhow. Enjoy guys.

Cas watched idly as Dean paced around the hotel room. He had a moment to wonder at how even he was calling himself Cas instead of Castiel, before Dean was pacing by in front of him again.

"Dean."

"He should be back by now."

"Dean, he could be-"

"Cas, I don't want to hear it." Dean paced by again and Cas shrugged, deciding he'd tried and that was good enough for him. He flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, idly scratching at his stomach as the t-shirt he was wearing rode up.

He wished he hadn't left his jacket out in the Impala; he'd found a decent stash in the last house they'd gone through and the bottle was currently in one of the pockets. He hadn't wanted Dean to find them though. Last time, he had he'd flushed the pills down the toilet, giving Cas that Disappointed Look while he'd done so. No matter what Dean did, though, Cas always found some form of drug to take, or alcohol to drink. He'd think he'd found Cas' stash but there was always five other hiding spots that he didn't know about that Cas could go to in case of "emergencies".

Cas had been human for all of four months now. He'd found that emotions were really not his forte and could understand why Dean usually avoided talking about them. Dean, however, had an entire lifetime to grow accustomed to the things while Cas had all of four months.

Plus there was that awful empty feeling in his chest where his Grace had resided. It was a constant ache, a reminder of what he no longer was, a reminder of what he had lost.

Cas lay there, staring at the ceiling, idly following the path Dean took across the room and back again. Cas didn't know how he knew, but he just knew Sam was fine. He may have been gone longer than he'd said he would be, but sometimes it just took a while to find gas. Dean was just paranoid, afraid his little brother would say yes to Lucifer despite the two of them being together again, like they should be.

The angels had still left and Cas had still become human and, despite Dean's best efforts, Cas had still fallen into drugs.

Dean just didn't understand how those marvelous little pills numbed everything. Filled up that gaping hole in his chest, the deafening silence in his head and the useless weight on his back that was his wings.

Thanks to Lucifer still walking the Earth, Cas still had ties to Heaven, still had a small amount of Grace in him. He couldn't fly, couldn't heal, or sense time and history and souls like he'd been able to. He could, however, shove as many pills and as much alcohol down his throat as he pleased without fear of an overdose. Being immune to Croatoan was also a bonus (they'd found that one out the hard way, longest two hours of Cas' life).

Overall, though, he was human. Useless. Extra baggage.

"Are you high right now?" Dean's voice broke through Cas' thoughts, dragging him back to the present. Back to where he was sprawled out on a crappy hotel bed in clothes that were a few sizes too big. Back to where everything was shit and everything hurt.

Cas snorted and propped himself up on his elbows to watch Dean continue his pacing, "Nope. Completely sober. Unfortunately."

"Cas-"

"Don't, Dean." He knew Dean was gearing up for the blame game. Would go on about how it was his fault Cas was like this and no matter how many times Cas told him otherwise, Dean would always blame himself. Cas' choices were his own, though. Dean may have been an influence, but Cas didn't do anything he didn't want to do, and he was here because of that. His own choices; he knew he'd done the right thing and given the chance he would do the exact same thing over again.

"Cas-"

"You wouldn't understand. You don't understand." Because Dean didn't. Didn't know what it was like to kill his own siblings, didn't know what it was like to have something that made you who you were and then have it taken away. Didn't know what it was like to be in love, only to know his feelings weren't returned.

Cas groaned and flopped back onto the bed. This was why he was never sober. His thoughts were always chaotic, depressing, pulling him down into a dark well of nothingness that he had no hopes of escaping.

Dean sighed and Cas rolled onto his side, putting his back to Dean and the door. As soon as Sam returned with the Impala, he'd go and get his stash. Would swallow these little pieces of oblivion and would be okay for the night.

Their tension-filled silence was broken by Sam's return. Cas was immediately up and off the bed, pulling on his boots and an extra shirt since he didn't have his jacket.

"Took you long enough," Dean grumbled, accepting the bag of food Sam had also returned with.

"Stations were packed. I got some gas though, before you ask."

Croatoan had been unleashed a month earlier; it hadn't taken over yet, was just in the small backwater towns. They'd all tried to save them, the towns and the people. Tried to get the people out before it could spread. No matter how hard they fought, though, the towns were lost and people were killed or turned. Panic had set in, people ran, fought, and rioted and amidst it all, Croatoan moved closer and closer to the larger cities. Then it would be over.

"Where do you think you're going?" Dean snapped, looking up from the food Sam had returned with.

"Left something in the Impala." Dean's jaw tightened, but Cas was grabbing the gun Sam handed him and heading out of the door before anything else could be said. It was getting dark, so Cas knew he didn't have long to be out before he was either hunted down by Croats or dragged back by Dean.

The gun was tucked into the back of his pants and he headed down the street to where the Impala was hidden so as not to draw attention to the abandoned hotel they were residing in for the night. He kept his eyes open and remained as alert as he could. He may not like his newfound humanity, but he didn't feel like being ripped apart either.

The Impala came into view and Cas hurried over to it, using the keys Sam had handed him to open the backdoor to retrieve his jacket. He heard the familiar clatter of the pills in their bottle and smiled, happy that numbness was that much closer.

When Cas straightened, he froze, eyes staring across the roof of the Impala.

There was a Croat staring at him.

He had the gun tucked into the back of his pants and he knew the shotgun that had been labeled 'his' was sitting on the backseat as well. As soon as he moved, that Croat would be coming for him; he'd have to move fast if he wanted to go for the shotgun, which he did since he was still a horrible shot with anything smaller. Plus Dean and Sam would hear the shotgun going off and come to investigate.

Cas stared at the Croat and the Croat stared back, eyes wild and tinged red around the edges. Cas knew there were more around, there always were. Dean said they were like cockroaches, for each one you saw, there were at least ten more around that you couldn't see. He knew he could outrun them back to the motel room, but then that would bring the whole crowd back and they'd soon be overwhelmed with Croats.

Dean would kill him if he even thought about diving into the Impala and driving off. He would have to find somewhere else to go, somewhere to wait and call Dean and, unfortunately, ask for help. He'd have to run; he could find somewhere. There were places he could hide. Ever since he'd become human, he'd started training with the Winchesters. Knew he was faster than either Sam or Dean, knew he could run for longer distances, he was lighter and quicker on his feet. He'd have to do it.

Cas counted to ten in his head, dove for the shotgun and, through the window, saw the Croat bolt into action as well. Cas' fingers wrapped around the shotgun. As soon as he felt the cool metal of the barrel against his palm, he was turning and sprinting down the street, the Croat right behind him.

He could hear the sounds of more Croats joining in on the chase, brought in by the sounds, the excitement of the chase, and the possibility of something to tear into. Fresh meat. Cas didn't dare turn to look over his shoulder, though; there was always the strong possibility of tripping or stumbling. If anything like that happened right now, Cas would be done for.

The hotel came into view, but Castiel kept running. He did, however, turn and aim the shotgun into the growing mob chasing after him. He hoped the resounding blast would alert Dean and Sam to his predicament and not drag even more Croats out of hiding to find him.

He just needed a safe place to stash himself until they got bored or distracted. Or until Dean and Sam killed them.

Cas was a little annoyed at how much he was depending on Dean and Sam in this situation. He had been an angel for crying out loud. Strategy was his thing; finding things, working things out: that was what he was good at. What he had been good at. He should be able to figure this out and work it out himself, even if there were more Croats than he had bullets chasing after him.

He'd be able to figure something out. He still had his jacket clutched in his hands. If he managed to hang on to it, he'd be able to out-wait them even if he was outside. It wasn't winter yet; the early autumn nights weren't that cold yet. He'd be able to do this.

He just had to find a place first.

Cas' vague concentration was broken when he heard a shouted "Cas!" from somewhere behind him. Probably from the hotel. It did sound a lot like Dean's voice shouting at him. Of course it would be Dean.

It was always Dean.

"Cas!" That voice sounded like Sam. Didn't they realize he couldn't come to them? Didn't they realize he had a mob of Croats chasing after him? He ignored their shouts and continued running down the street, trying to ignore the panted breaths of the diseased behind him.

There were houses and cars he could run to, but he also knew that was just asking for being backed into a corner and being ripped apart. Which Cas had already established as being bad thank you very much.

Cas spotted a few telephone poles that were still standing. He could make out the little handholds the repairmen climbed jutting out from the sides in the growing darkness. There was a car situated underneath one of them; if he was feeling suicidal enough he'd be able to grab hold of the lowest rung and pull himself up. He chanced a glance behind him and figured he had enough distance built up between him and the mob to work his way on top of the car and climb up the pole. He'd have to lose his jacket or shotgun though, as he would need both hands.

He dropped the shotgun as he leapt up onto the hood of the car and nearly lost his balance on the slippery windshield. He made it up to the roof when three Croats body slammed into the vehicle, rocking it on its wheels. Cas lunged for the closest rung and grabbed hold of it, hauling himself up and kicking out when he felt fingers grabbing at the hem of his jeans.

Cas climbed up the pole until he was a little more than halfway up. He hoped the Croats didn't figure out how to climb. He had high hopes for their continued stupidity, as flimsy chain link fences kept them locked in a city.

Cas managed to pull on his jacket without dropping anything and managed to get himself into a semi-comfortable position. Judging from how the Croats were gathering around the base of the pole, moonlight reflecting in their hate filled eyes, it was going to be a long night.

Dean didn't know if he should be annoyed, worried or just pissed.

Of course Cas would manage to attract a mob of Croats going out to get his damn pills. Cas had a knack for attracting every pissed off supernatural being within a ten mile radius.

After hearing the sound of shotgun going off and seeing Cas sprinting down the street, Dean and Sam had gathered up their things, loaded up the Impala and headed out. Before they could leave, though, they had to find Cas. Which shouldn't be too hard as he'd snagged the attention of all the Croats in the city apparently.

"He couldn't have gone too far," Sam said from the passenger seat, shotgun held in his lap. Dean merely grunted and steered the Impala down the road Cas had been running down.

Dean pulled off to the side of the road and shut the car down, Sam leaned forward and pointed at something on the horizon, "I think I see something."

"Cas?"

"Maybe. Too dark to tell."

Dean sighed and pulled himself from the Impala, he was definitely annoyed now. He'd been hoping for a good night's sleep and finishing the drive to Bobby's in the morning, and now he had to find his fallen angel and continue the drive on little to no sleep.

As soon as he'd come back from the future Zachariah had sent him to, Dean had promised himself he'd never let anything like that happen. Sworn he'd keep Cas sober, keep Sam from saying yes. He'd only managed to keep half of that promise and he partly blamed Cas for it.

Cas was a sneaky bastard when he wanted to be. For every stash Dean found and flushed, there were always four others he didn't know about. Dean would kill whoever had introduced Cas to pills in the first place if he ever found out who.

After five minutes of working their way over debris and avoiding any stray Croats, Dean and Sam were stashed away in an abandoned apartment across from where the majority of Croats were mobbing.

"Is he up that pole?" Dean asked after he'd looked through the window, trying to find any sign of Cas.

Sam glanced through the window, snorted and nodded, "Looks like."

"Christ, how the hell are we supposed to get him down from there?"

"Don't think we have enough ammo to clear them all out."

Dean sighed and looked through his bag for a flashlight, pushed the window open and clicked the light a few times to grab Cas' attention. He could see Cas shift enough to give them a jaunty wave from where he was hanging and Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes and just leave the bastard there.

Sam shoved Dean out of the way and stuck his head out of the window, calling out just loud enough for Cas to hear but not draw any attention, "You okay?"

"Most fun I've had in months," Cas responded, shooting them a wide grin.

This time Dean did roll his eyes.

Sam snorted and looked up and down the street before pulling back into the apartment, "I can distract them."

"Um... no you can't?"

"Dean."

"Don't even think about it Sam."

"So what? We just leave him up there?"

"They'll get bored eventually."

"Dean! We can't leave him up there!"

"He's got his pills. I don't think he cares."

From across the street Cas shouted, "I really have to pee!"

Sam snorted again and Dean glared out the window and over to where Cas was.

"There's a dirt bike down the street, I can lead them off, you get Cas and I'll meet you both at the Impala."

"And if it doesn't work?"

"I'm fast."

"No, Sam."

Sam opened his mouth to object again but Cas shouted again, "You think they'd mind if I pissed on them?"

"Cas! Just shut up!" Dean shouted back.

"Dean, everything will be fine."

"Yeah, because everything works out so well for us Winchesters." Sam shot Dean one of his patented bitchfaces and Dean knew he'd lost this argument.

Ten minutes later and Sam was kicking the dirt bike into life and Dean was waiting for the Croats to disappear down the street after his little brother. Only a few Croats remained behind and Dean quickly picked them off.

Cas looked down at him as Dean looked up at him, "Jump down Cas."

"They moved the car."

"Who gives a fuck? Jump down before they come back."

Cas inched down the pole and clung to the last rung, "It's a long way down."

"It's not that far, Cas. I'll catch you."

Cas scoffed and aimed a glare at Dean, "No you won't."

"You're high. Just jump, you won't feel a damn thing."

Cas sighed, wiggled down the pole a bit more before letting himself drop down to the ground. There was a sharp cracking sound closely followed by Cas shouting and collapsing the rest of the way to the ground.

"Cas!"

"Son of a bitch that hurts." Cas groaned from the ground, pulling his right foot up.

"Well, whine about it later, we gotta go." Dean could hear the sound of the dirt bike in the distance, quickly approaching. Cas grunted as Dean hauled him upright, most of Cas' weight resting against Dean's side.

The two managed to make their way to the Impala, Cas collapsed into the backseat and Dean got the engine going as Sam came around the corner, Croats no where to be seen. Yet.

"You drive."

Sam shot him a confused look but slid into the driver's seat while Dean leaned over the passenger's seat and into the back to look at Cas.

Cas glared at him as they took off down the street, "This is all your fault."

"How the hell is this my fault?"

"You told me to jump."

"It's your own damn fault for going out in the first place. Just had to have your damn pills didn't you?"

"To be able to tolerate the sound of your voice? Yes."

Dean sighed and shook his head, deciding to ignore Cas and instead see what was broken, "Give me your foot."

"Fuck off."

"Cas, let me see, please." Cas glared at him before uncurling enough to allow Dean to reach over and untie the laces on his boot. Cas hissed as Dean pulled it off the sock quickly following. Cas' foot was already swelling, the skin around his ankle turning a dark purple, Dean winced in sympathy.

"Broken?" Sam asked, glancing over.

"Yeah," Dean climbed over the seat and settled himself on the backseat, resting Cas' leg in his lap, "This'll hurt, Cas. I need to check and make sure you didn't snap anything."

Cas eyed him, brow furrowed and mouth pinched, he didn't look entirely trusting.

"I won't take long Cas, I promise. You know you can trust me. Right?"

Cas groaned and his head thunked back against the door, "Get it over with already, then."

Dean gently prodded Cas' swollen ankle, ignoring the whimpers of pain Cas made around his hand. As far as Dean could tell, it wasn't a horrible break, no bones shifted around under his hand and nothing poked out of the skin.

"All done Cas. Doesn't feel too bad, you'll just need to be off it for a while."

Cas grunted and shot Dean a glare, "Naturally."

Dean patted Cas' knee and watched as the ex-angel's hands moved to the inside of his jacket, no doubt searching out the ever present pill bottle.

Dean decided he'd had enough. He leaned forward and plucked the bottle from Cas' hands when it was pulled free from the pocket; he rolled the window down and tossed the bottle out into the night.

Cas glared up at Dean, eyes wide and wet, "You fucking bastard."

Dean simply smiled, hand resting over Cas' heart. He could handle the abuse, for Cas.

"I hate you."

Dean sighed and shifted his position enough to be able to pull Cas upright, Cas struggled when he realized what Dean was doing, but Dean pulled him into a hug anyway, Cas' head coming to rest under Dean's chin.

"I know Cas, I know."

Cas shuddered against him, hands coming up and grabbing hold of Dean's shirt. Dean shushed Cas and tightened his hold, hoping that he could be enough for Cas to get through this.

He would have to be.