"Sam." Dean pulled his brother aside. His face was grave, immediately setting the younger Winchester on high alert.
"Yeah?"
Dean glanced around surreptitiously. "We have a major problem."
"What? Dean. What is it?"
"I… shit. I don't know how to explain this. C'mere."
Rarely was Dean at a loss for words. Sam's 'Oh shit' meter was currently maxed out, his senses on such high alert it was near painful. Something had to be seriously wrong and his lack of knowledge was driving him insane.
Dean led his brother into their hotel room. Inside, Cas sat. He was surrounded by a cloud of glitter.
"Oh god," Sam moaned.
"Yeah. See what I mean? It's like angel crack."
Castiel completely ignored the two men. He was presently preoccupied as he rolled about in his glittery sea. One would guess he had ingested some seriously potent drugs. The angel lolled about, a dopey grin plastered across his face as his eyes twitched constantly. His gaze was glazed and his pupils blown. Every surface of him, clothes, skin, even his mouth was coated in glitter.
"When you said 'we have a problem'… Cas has a problem," Sam said.
"No shit," Dean snapped. "What do we do, send him to angel rehab?"
"Uh…"
Suddenly, Cas froze. His face crinkled and he screwed his eyes shut. Sensing the worst, the Winchesters automatically dropped into defensive crouches. For a tense moment, Castiel remained coiled with locked muscles, as if at any moment he would explode. And explode he did. He sucked in a deep breath and sneezed something awful. An enormous plume of glitter shot from his nostrils and cocooned his head. The Winchesters straightened and watched in shocked silence. Cas, if anything, seemed overjoyed by the sudden emergence of more glitter. He made a sort of cooing gasp that sounded pleasantly surprised, if a bit manic, and continued to roll in the glitter.
"We are so screwed," Dean muttered. Sam couldn't help but agree.
