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Castiel stared at the toy shotgun Sam thrust into his hands when he got home from work in confusion. “What’s this for?”
“There are zombies all over the house. I’ll escort you so that you’ll learn to spot them.” Sam looked at the bags Castiel was carrying, the dinner he’d brought home from the café he owned. “Do we need to swing by the refrigerator, or is that something we can let sit out until we have time to eat?”
“Zombies? What are you talking about? Zombies aren’t real.”
Sam shook his head. “Best way to become a zombie, refuse to believe when the apocalypse happens. Don’t be a zombie. Refrigerator or safety?”
“How long until the… zombie apocalypse calms down enough that we can eat? The sandwiches and salad will be fine for a little while, but if it’s going to be longer than about half an hour they’ll need to be refrigerated. If we wait too long, I’ll want to heat up the French fries.”
Sam nodded. “Okay. Follow me.” Castiel followed Sam down the hallway. When they got to the door to the living room, Sam threw out a hand to stop him. He peeked inside, looked around, and pointed. “See in the corner there? Zombie!”
“I don’t see anything.” Castiel peered into the room, and then turned an annoyed glare on Sam. “What are we doing?”
“Just go with it, okay?” Sam pointed again. “Now, see the zombie? When you see one, you shoot it. Aim for the head!” He held up the rifle he was carrying and pretended to fire, complete with disturbingly accurate gun noise. “Whew. Got it. Come on.”
“Don’t we need to…” Castiel trailed off, not sure at all what to do with a dead zombie that he still couldn’t see. “Burn? The body?”
“Not yet! Sometimes zombies are just playing dead. If you get close, they grab you and they eat your brain. We’ll come back in a little bit, and if it’s still there, then we burn it.” Sam blew imaginary smoke from his gun and started forward again, heading for the stairs. At the bottom, he kissed Castiel. “Go halfway up. I’ll cover you while you go, then you cover me while I come up behind you.”
“Sam…”
“Watch for zombies!” Sam held his rifle ready, so Castiel did the only thing he could do. He walked up the stairs, stopping at the landing where the stairs turned to hold up his shotgun. Sam scrambled up the stairs to the landing, and then the rest of the way up. “Come on, I’ve got you covered.”
“Good, I wouldn’t want to become a zombie on the stairs. That would just be undignified.” Castiel made his way up. “Now what?”
“Hang on.” Sam shot a couple times. “Zombies,” he explained. “Now we get to safety and eat dinner.”
“Oh, good. Where’s safety?” Castiel followed Sam through the hall, hoping safety was somewhere the crumbs would be easy to clean up.
It turned out that safety was Jack’s bedroom, where an elaborate pillow fort had taken over the floor and bed. What looked like every pillow in the house had been brought in, and blankets helped make it big enough to hide in. Sam crouched outside a gap in the blankets. “Jack? It’s me, and I brought someone with me.”
“Is it a zombie?” Jack asked.
“No, I checked, he’s not a zombie, and he’s bringing food. Are you hungry?”
“Yes! What’s the password?”
“Stars are gone by morning,” Sam recited. “If we come in, are you going to shoot?”
Jack’s giggles were muted by the pillow fort, but adorable nonetheless. It was good to hear, a huge change from the quiet child Cas and Sam had taken in after his biological father was proved to be an unfit parent. “Nope! Come in!”
Sam lifted the blanket and crawled inside. Jack, sweet boy that he was, had make sure the pillow fort was tall enough for Sam to sit in without ducking his head. Castiel followed, sitting by Sam. “Father!” Jack squealed and crawled into Castiel’s lap as soon as he was settled enough for it to be practical. “You’re home and the zombies didn’t get you!”
“How long has this… zombie apocalypse… been going on?” Castiel asked, hugging Jack.
“Since lunch. Miss Rowena helped me build the fort to protect myself, and then she made sure Dad got up here safely when he got home from work. She did a spell on the pillow fort to make sure that I’d be safe in here, and then showed me how to spot and fight zombies.” Jack held up his pistol. “Zombies are cool and not scary at all!”
“And how long will the zombie apocalypse last?”
“Miss Rowena said that zombie apo… acopal... attacks last seven hours. We started at one, and one plus seven is eight. Just in time that I can get ready for bed in peace!” Jack climbed off Castiel’s lap and ran to the back of the fort, returning with three plates and silverware. “Miss Rowena said that we should be prepared because suppertime would be during the zombie time.”
“Good.” Castiel distributed food, smiling at Jack’s enthusiasm as he devoured his BLT and French fries. The salad he was less enthusiastic about, but he ate it all anyway. Zombie hunting, it would seem, worked up an appetite.
Once supper was “cleaned up” – no one wanted to risk zombies to take the plates downstairs when it wasn’t going to be that long before they could do it safely – the three of them played Twenty Questions, I Spy, and other guessing games until an alarm went off on Sam’s phone. “Hey, the zombie apocalypse is over!” Jack shouted. “Now we get to knock down the fort!”
“Not yet!” Sam said. “First, you let your father and I get out of the fort. Then you can knock it down.”
“Oh, okay.” Castiel grabbed the dirty dishes on his way out, and then turned at the sound of a roar. “I’m a Tyrannosaur!” Jack explained as he stomped his way through the fort, knocking everything down. He then went through the wreckage to get his pillow and his blankets to put on his bed. “Do I have to help put the rest of them back?”
“No, don’t worry, your dad and I will take care of that,” Castiel promised. “Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth.”
Jack was in bed and asleep. Beds were remade, dishes were rinsed and put in the dishwasher, and there was no sign of any remaining zombies or zombie corpses in the house. Castiel checked on Jack, and then went back downstairs to join Sam on the couch. “I was skeptical when you first hired Rowena to look after Jack, but she’s been good for him. He’s come so far, to be playing zombie apocalypse like this.”
“I know. I was in shock when Rowena texted to ask if it was okay to do this”
“Is there a reason you didn’t warn me? I could have brought food more appropriate to bunkering up from zombies.”
“I meant to, but kept getting distracted at work, and then I forgot about it until Jack asked when you were getting home. By then, it was a little late. But hey, you survived, we got dinner, all’s well that end’s well… but you know, I went on some high-risk missions before you got home. You should probably check me over for bite marks.”
Castiel tilted his head, squinting at Sam. “But the apocalypse is over. We’re safe.”
“True, but I wouldn’t want to be a zombie next time there’s an apocalypse! The thought of going against you and Jack is just heartbreaking.” Sam winked. “Besides, since when have you ever needed a reason to inspect me thoroughly?”