Your eyes were glossy and lidded, movements slow and sluggish like you were a rusted machine. Dean and Sam were ways ahead of you, unaware of your abysmal condition. Whatever was in that food that diner had offered you had turned you into a stumbling lunatic. Whoever was trying to speak to you wasn’t registering in your mind, it was like they were speaking in tongues. It hurt to blink, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to exist.

Castiel walked behind Sam and Dean, looking around curiously. Once he had realized you were nowhere near, panic set in, until he heard you thud against a wall. Castiel departed from the two Winchesters and walked over to you, “Are you … alright?” He tried to ask, but noting your condition you probably didn’t understand a lick of what he was saying. “I knew that diner was too good to be true.” Castiel mumbled to himself.