Warning: SLASH, YAOI, GAY, HOMOSEXUAL. DON'T LIKE IT DON'T READ.

A/N: I totally don't have time to be doing this but I can't help myself. The idea partially came from Entangled Now's The Fourth Wall series in which Castiel finds a fanfic about Sam and Lucifer teaming up to rid the world of zombies and partially because I've started watching 'the Walking Dead.' The title is from Paradise Lost, the full quote is, "Farewell happy fields/ Where Joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail Infernal world" Satan says this as he is banished to hell.

Infernal World

"For tis not in mere death that men die most." - Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

Sam lay on the tattered sofa and stared at the far wall. The plaster had cracked around the ceiling and there was a questionable brown stain arranged in a sort of splat. Sam reached for his phone and his hand was in his pocket before he remembered the phone didn't exist anymore. It had been smashed in his last fleeing attempt from 'them' and there wasn't a way to buy a new one. Not now. He pulled his hand back from the emptiness without breaking his gaze from the wall.

He'd have to go out again soon. He needed ammunition, salt and food. In that order. He also needed Dean. But that wasn't happening either. There was a slight breeze that brushed over him.

'What is that smell?' Lucifer asked. Sam didn't have to turn his head to know Lucifer's face would be scrunched up in disapproval. It was the same every time he appeared.

'Rotting meat,' Sam replied. He had hung it around the door, it deterred 'them', they liked it fresh. Wasn't it funny how with every new evil he faced he lamented the old one? Lilith had made him miss yellow eyes, Lucifer made him like Lilith. Castiel made him desire Lucifer's simplicity and Castiel was nothing compared to the Leviathan. Now he missed the Leviathan.

'Say yes to me Sam and all this will be over,' Lucifer said.

'Change the record.' They'd opened the gates to the pit, got the archangels out to kill the Leviathan. It had worked, so much as locking them back up in purgatory works, but of course it was 'Let's start the apocalypse again,' fun times. Sam's research led him to the knowledge of how much the angels had detested the Leviathan, it was the only thing that had made sense. The archangels would be fine as long as Sam and Dean didn't say yes, then they'd pop them back in the pit, simple as. Except humanity had other plans.

'This is only happening in America,' Lucifer said. Sam didn't know that. He sat up and looked at the devil leaning against the fridge.

'Really?' Sam asked.

'It started here,' Lucifer commented. 'Your people scurried in panic like little ants, got on their boats, their planes. But everyone else noticed. They didn't want it in their countries. They bombed it all. Every last fleeing American lying on the bottoms of oceans. This is the humanity you're always trying to save.'

Sam didn't say anything. He felt his stomach twist in a knot. He wasn't surprised, it even made sense. If the rest of the world hadn't bombed them then maybe the whole planet would be this mess. He looked up at Lucifer, still in Nick's vessel, though he hadn't explained how that worked, the vessel didn't even seem to be rotting. Sam hated to admit that he was starting to enjoy Satan's company, but then again he didn't have much choice, there was no one else.

'Even more reason to save it,' Sam said. 'The whole world hasn't gone to shit. Why would I help end it just because the bit I'm in has.'

'Oh Sammy, so much self-sacrifice in such a selfish body.'

Sam rolled his eyes.

'If you're going to keep popping in you could at least bring supplies with you,' Sam said. It was Lucifer's turn to not reply. He suspected Lucifer hated the new humanity even worse than he did the last one, though he claimed it made no difference. Filthy, hungry bodies, same as always. Humans have always fed off one another, this is just more visceral. Sam rubbed his temple, he was getting a migraine, and he still needed to go outside.

'Do you at least have any news of Dean or Castiel?' Sam asked finally.

'No. I do not. I cannot find your brother or mine, the anti-angel sigils work as well as they always did,' Lucifer said.

'But you can find me,' Sam said.

'That's because I've been in your Sam,' Lucifer smirked. 'No amount of witchcraft could hide you from me now.'

Sam should be scared of that, everything in his memories tells him he should, but he doesn't have the energy anymore. There is only him and Lucifer now, and that could be all there would be for a long time. Neither of them mentioned that they were in Detroit. Aspirin. He needed some aspirin. He used the last four days ago though. That might trump ammunition.

Sam stood up feeling his muscles for the first time in hours. He stretched out the languid as best he could. He picked up the .475 Wildey Magnum he had placed on the floor next to the sofa, and the .45 Glock. He always took at least two guns when going out, preferably a shotgun as well, you never knew if a gun might malfunction or you'd run out of that ammo. Running out of ammo had never been a huge concern of their's in the past, they couldn't stop much with bullets anyhow. But bullets were the only thing he was aware of that would help him this time.

'Going for a stroll?' Lucifer asked. Sam merely glared at him. He didn't know what the devil expected. They couldn't all be angels strolling about the place with no need to feed or live without aspirin. He'd asked Lucifer back when this had all started whether or not his unholyness could be affected. Sam had been met with scorn. Lesser angels could be affected, specifically their vessels could, the angels would just leave. More powerful angels had the strength to 'shut up' the body. Sam grabbed his coat, it was May and still cold enough outside to warrant it, the weather never seemed to bother 'them' not even the snow had slowed them down.

'Are you coming?' Sam asked. Lucifer frowned and wrinkled his nose as if the whole thing was beneath him. Sam guessed it was, he was the ruler of all hell, going for a walk with his reluctant vessel while he attempted to find supplies to continue to live was a bit…well mundane. Even if there was the chance, a highly likely chance, that there would be a chase and some shooting at some point. He grabbed his shoulder bag, filled mostly with ammo, and moved to the door. With a slight wave to the archangel he headed out into the thick of it.

For the thick of it though, Detroit was barren. Cars abandoned, homes abandoned, the streets abandoned. It was as if some big machine had come and sucked everyone away. It always, no matter how many times he saw it, reminded him of that day in Missouri. Sam walked to his motorbike. He was going to have to give it up shortly, it had lasted the winter what with him being the only person using gas. But the pumps would run dry eventually.

Being outside felt foreign. There was a constant threat. It was never as empty as it seemed and the ways in which it wasn't empty is what made it the worst. It wasn't that he was terrified. He wasn't. After the hallucinations, and the death of Bobby and more hallucinations nothing was quite as bad, not even this. But he couldn't settle. Each nerve in his body was in a constant state of readyness. There were little sparks of electricity racing under his skin. His ears picked up every sound, his eyes spotted every bit of rubbish blowing the wind.

He didn't bother with a helmet, there hadn't been one when he'd taken the bike and looking for one would mean spending more time out in the open. More time than he wanted to. He wasn't going far. Just to the nearest Walmart. Even in the depths of hell it was still the place to get everything you needed in one go. He started up the engine and headed off without thinking, if he paused they'd track the noise, the smell of his body. So he didn't pause, not for a second, not at junctions, not at red lights, he just He passed the streets people had tried to leave the city by and the cars were left in there jammed state. Alone and empty. Sam tried not to look at them and just focus and where he was going and what he needed. But it was all too much of a skeleton of a city, the fleshy bits stripped clean off the bone.

He parked his bike right outside the doors of the store, he was always tempted to take it inside for speed, but if 'they' were in there the sound would draw them instantly. Ammunition. He was looking for .45 winchester magnums initially, they were best for his magnum but he hated searching for the name. The one real Winchester he wanted to find he couldn't. He grabbed the last four boxes Walmart had. Each box had a number of six round cartridges. He was going to have to change weapons soon if he was going to stay here. There was no ammo for his guns after this. If only Lucifer would start killing them then he wouldn't have to use so much.

Salt. As much as 'they' had become his current concern, there were still ghosts, and more than ever they decided to come to him. The only human in the near vicinity they could actually haunt. 'They' even became ghosts, sort of. He wondered what had happened to the vampires and the shifters. What were they feeding off now if at all? What would Eve have done if she was still around? Would she have killed 'them' off. Were vampires walking skeletons now? Starving just like 'them'.

Sam rubbed his temples and stopped by the painkiller section on his way to find salt. He picked up ten boxes of aspirin and five bottles of Tylenol. The more he took now, the longer it would be before he had to come back. But he only had his shoulder bag and he still needed more food. Tins of Beans and Spaghetti were mostly what he was going for...and coffee. Anything else was a luxury and took up too much space.

He smelt them first. The acrid smell of death. A smell he'd known since before he could even ride a bike. This smell wasn't like the ones he was used to, either out on a job or in autopsy. It was older, like when opening graves for salting ghosts. But instead of that explosive smell that hit you as you opened the coffin and made you wretch, this was subtle. It crept up on you, slithering around your body. Sam had the magnum out and pulled down the safety. He tried to focus on where the smell was coming from, but the putrid smell was too strong to narrow down. If he fired one shot that would alert them to where he was.

He stood with this back against the shelves. He listened, tried to hear where they were or how many there were, but he got nothing. He sidestepped along the shelves, he needed to get a visual on what was happening. There was a loud crash and for a moment Sam's heart dropped as he thought the sound was him. It wasn't. It had happened further away in the store. Far enough away for him to be able to think calmly. He hurried quickly to the cosmetic aisle, careful not to make a sound. He grabbed a can of hairspray, smashed a bottle of perfume and ran. 'They'd' all migrate to the sound and smell, think it was a nice fleshy woman.

He didn't look behind to see if they had fallen for the perfume dupe or if they were now ambling after him, he just kept sprinting for the exit with his gun ready and the hairspray in the other hand. He shook the can up as he ran. He dropped it in the entrance and clambered onto his bike. It was only then he looked back and saw the group of them coming toward the exit. He swapped his guns, pulling out his glock . With his gun still out he started up the engine. As he started to ride away he turned and fired at the can. He turned back around not looking to check if he hit it. He heard the explosion and felt the wave of heat even as he sped away. The shockwave knocked his bike and he skidded into one of the empty cars.

Everything went black for seconds. That was one thing his body had learnt over his past life, if it could fight loosing consciousness it would, because loosing consciousness always landed you in a worse situation than you were in. He scrambled back onto his bike. He knew the explosion wouldn't keep them busy for very long. Nothing but a bullet in the head would do that. But he knew he could outdo them with speed. So he raced through the streets heading back to his flat.

It wasn't till he was stepping in through the door of his flat, locking it behind him that he felt the pain in his side and his back. Lucifer was still leaning against the fridge. Sam looked down and saw glass protruding out his side. Spots were speckling his vision.

'I fucking hate zombies.'