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Zombies Eat Brains	By : ChysLattes Category: Supernatural > General Views: 944 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural and make no money off of it. This sucks since I had a similar idea first. So did Thurman. Oh well.

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Zombies Eat Brains

by Chys Lattes

Supernatural One-shot fanfic, concerning Dean and Castiel, Crack!Humor, doesn't take itself seriously, just like the show itself.

Dean Winchester from Supernatural's season six (or was it seven? Five Maybe? Eh, somewhere along those lines...) glared at the ceiling of his cheap and filthy smelling motel room, bored out of his sadly delirious mind. It was a blue painted ceiling which appeared to be covered in patches of dark black mold, patterned oddly to look almost like the Virgin Mary (if you squinted, had double vision, most likely a freakishly hemorrhaging concussion and it didn't hurt to be finishing off the last of a six-pack while you were at it,) though he doubted any virgins had ever laid eyes on it. He absentmindedly rubbed at the thin blood soaked bandage wrapped on his forehead, wondering how the hell he'd let a damn zombie bite him in the first place, and just how the hell it had managed to open it's jaw that wide anyway. He contemplated whether sending Sam to get more medical supplies was a very wise decision.

"Cass, get your feathery ass down here! It's important." He hollered into the ceiling's mold portrait. It was freaking him out that she was starting to blink at him. Or maybe he was just passing out. Yeah, passing out. No... no, wait! That was a wink! Wait- false alarm.

The stoically exasperated angel appeared behind the bed, facing the divider wall. He took in the appearance of the room with little interest, eyes vacantly scanning the contents. His mind was still off in fairly land. Or Spandex Space. Or Nirvana, or Donald Trump's closet, or wherever the hell you go when you've been smoking too much weed and wondered what an entire liqueur store tasted like. He already knew, from past experience, but he'd come to realize they were like chocolates- you never know what you'll taste inside. "Yes, because everything in this world is more important than what I have to deal with." The angel, while not being a professional wrestler of sarcasm, could grasp this much by the balls by now. The Winchester boys had crammed enough of it in his poor brain-dead vessel's ears as it was.

"Yes, it is. Now- Get me a soda." Dean covered his face with a scratched arm, blocking out the light and offensive polka dots scattered in the air. Those damn things had been following him for hours.

"You've been drinking alcohol." The angel's sage observation, given as he stood over the bed assessing his injured companion, was a monotone that for him could have been either elated enthusiasm or the most deepest of depression. It didn't really matter which. Dean could take it either way as the 'interchangeable sound of Cass', either giving a good damn, or not giving one at all.

Dean snorted, "Yeah, I have."

Dean chucked an empty beer can at Cass's head. The angel caught it deftly and deposited it on the nightstand right next to the remote and the guide to the porn channels. He'd already memorized those. Seared them into his mind like the names of the Prophets. "Is that wise in your condition? Never mind. How is this task important?"

"I can't move, clowns will eat me. If you can get me a soda I can give you the mother of all fucking weapons from Heaven-all-fucking-mighty, how about that? This weapon has been used to smite Humanity over and over, and you know what? It works."

"That is excellent! And what is this weapon? I have not heard of it!"

"It's called 'The Bird', and believe me, it's been passed around. I want to switch it up. Caffeine. Stat."

"I am not your butler. The word Gullible is written on the ceiling." Castiel tapped Dean on the shoulder, then vanished in his usual pop-out-of-existence-in-a-low-budget-camera-wasn't-on-him-moment. Almost like it was a freaking miracle, all of Dean's wounds had vanished.

Dean glared at the spot where Cass had been, then found himself checking the ceiling. "No it isn--- Oh, hey, it is!"

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Zombies Eat Brains by Chys Lattes
Disclaimer: Chys doesn't own the Supernatural fandom nor the Television series, and makes no money off of this little humor ficlet.
Response to Danyealle-sama's review since this site is apparently not set up for proper responses to reviews: I'm glad the fic made you laugh! It is working as intended. I know how to spell Cas, and it was intentional. This is a crack!humor fic after all, the first thing out of Dean's mouth was "CASS, get your feathery ASS down here!-" Sorry if you didn't get the joke. Oh, and some of the time that's how they spell Cas's name in the Closed Captioning on television, it's making fun of Cas, but most people don't catch on to that. There are a lot of unspoken jokes and written sound effects that people don't get if they don't watch the show with captions on! In a serious fic I wouldn't be writing it that way.
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Zombies Eat Brains