a/n: A little graphic and includes death.

Summary: As the zombie-apocalypse bears down on the world, Castiel leaves his Vessel to go back to Heaven, thrusting an unsuspecting Jimmy into a destroyed world.

Left Out to Dry

The light is as bright as it had been the first time. So bright it is nearly blue. It is powerful. Pure. So pure that it destroys any darkness or evils that are in its path.

It comes from the Heavens.

It is Energy.

It is Everything.

It is an Angel.

Jimmy Novak screams. Howls. Any tiny hearts in the near vicinity croak at the sound. It echoes off the walls and rings into the empty streets. It vibrates off panes of glass and makes them rattling in their frames.

It is high pitched.

It is low.

It is every pitch everywhere.

The sound of his pain, it tears from his throat. It rips at his larynx, threatening to rip the cords of tissue apart.

The Being no longer sedates the pain that It causes as It jumps from his body unexpectedly, slapping Jimmy from his deep slumber. It doesn't apologize as It leaves him. They've been together forever, linked at the heart, their blood one. It doesn't try and make it gentle for the poor Human, but instead makes it an experience — makes it so that it leaves a scar.

Jimmy will remember this.

He will remember.

He will remember the Angel who was not just an It, but called Itself Castiel.

Castiel, the Angel born of Thursday.

Castiel leaves him.

He leaves Jimmy without a word.

He heads back to Heaven, His home.

So He leaves Jimmy.

Not where He found him the first time they joined, but instead somewhere where the Human is not privy.

The light vanishes and Jimmy collapses to the ground. It's grey and hard and hot and cracked. Sun beats down on the asphalt, making it warm through his clothing. It's in his eyes, bleeding through his thin eyelids. He aches, not having been in control of his own body for such a long while. His throat burns and aches, just as it does deep down in his bones. He feels hallow and used, discarded just the same.

It takes a while, but finally he can move on his own accord. He pushes himself up and searches where he is. Jimmy's never been here before, this place is new to him, but is worn to the times. He's sure that he hasn't been gone that long, that the earth is ruins. But the streets are empty, trash is everywhere, abandoned cars line the streets.

Jimmy can't see anyone in sight.

He gets to his feet and blinks, and just as suddenly, the streets are filled with rushing bodies. They rush by in fear, like a blur. Over the foot steps he hears dragging feet, harsh, raspy breathing. The people scream and scatter as a mob of their mirror opposites shamble into the streets. Their clothing torn and trashed… soiled. Their skin is no longer pale, but rotten and falling from the bones like that of a rotten chicken breast. Their smell is of decay and death and sickness.

They don't spare him a glance, as if he isn't even there, but they instead head towards the people. But in their fear and in an attempt to scatter, the people just trap themselves. Jimmy was only able to watch as the walking dead horded over the group of people.



Tearing away soft flesh from bones, chomping it down as if it were their last meal. The scream of the people was nearly as horrific as Jimmy's had been. Being eaten alive was not something to take lightly.


Red was everywhere, covering everything.

Jimmy closes his eyes and when he opens them again, the walking dead are everywhere, no longer are their Humans screaming and running because they are all the walking dead now.

This time, they see him.

He is their target.

He tries to run and finds that he can't move his feet. He looks down and sees that his feet have sunken into the asphalt. It'd be magic if Jimmy didn't know what he knew, but he did. He tries to fight it, to break free, but it's for naught; he's stuck there for good, helpless against the incoming onslaught of the walking dead.

He doesn't understand.

What could he have done to deserve something such as this?

This cruel and this... this evil.

He must have done something that he cannot recall.

Something so bad that he deserves this, these walkers coming at him. Their jaws snapping at the prospect of tasting him between their teeth.

He prayed, prayed to be forgiven for the misdeed that he committed as they piled on top him, each trying to get a little taste of Jimmy Novak. His flesh coming from his bones at the becking of their dead fingers like tender meat.

Castiel, his guardian, has abandoned him. Has left him here in the ruined world as if Jimmy were garbage; left him out to dry. But his isn't trash and instead food in the maws of the dead.