Castiel eyed him warily. Something was wrong with Dean. He couldn't put his finger on it but he was a little more on edge than usual. He made a mental note to check on him more often. He had little time to watch over his friends, what with the war against Metatron and all but he could not abandon the Winchesters. Not after all they had done for him. Dean had saved him just as much as he had saved Dean that fateful day when he'd taken a nosedive into hell to get him. His eyes moved back to Dean. They'd captured another demon and the brothers were "questioning" him. Cas focused on Dean, squinted a bit to get a better look at Dean's eyes. Anger glinted in their jaded depths. He saw grief, pain, guilt, desire spiral through their midst. Something was wrong, dangerously wrong. He listened to the deep timber of his voice, the demand for truth from the black-eyed grunt bound in the devil's trap.

"Tell us where Abaddon is, you spineless dick," Dean's command sent an unwelcome shiver down Castiel's back. He leaned forward on the balls of his feet as he watched Deans arm snake back, his hand closing into a fist, he watched in slow motion as Dean's muscles bunched and rippled beneath the leather confines of his jacket and shot forward in a punch that snapped the demon's head back sending a torrent of blood gushing from his nose. This wouldn't have been unusual in Dean standards, he didn't exactly have an amazing grip on his temper but even Dean usually only threw one or two or four punches to "punctuate" his point. This was savage, animalistic and as far removed from the Dean he knew as if he'd suddenly sprouted a different face. Cas quickly glanced at Sam and with some surprise saw the lack of shock on his face. He'd seen this before and beneath the apparent acceptance on Sam's face, he saw too the underlying worry that practically dripped from his pores. Cas frowned and stepped forward. He grasped Dean's upper arms and pulled, surprised once more when Dean wrenched away and continues his assault on the demon. He reached again for Dean, this time wrapping his arms around the human's torso and yanking him away and pulling him out of the room. Rage bellowed out of Dean's mouth as he angrily fought against his angelic restraints. Cas pulled him into the main room of the bunker and released him. Dean made for the dungeon but Cas slanted a hand against Dean's chest and shoved him back.

"Let me back in there, Cas, that demon knows where Abaddon is," Dean's voice, deep and throaty with anger sliced through Cas. He needed to know what was going on with Dean, whatever it was, was having this effect on him and it couldn't be good, nothing that happened to the Winchester brothers was ever good. One of the cupids had made sure of that when they put John and Mary together.

"What's going on with you, Dean?" he asked. Dean's eyes jerked away, his lips quivered a little in what seemed like a monumental effort to reign in his temper.

"I'm trying to find Abaddon, somebody has gotta take that bitch down," was his evasive reply.

"That's not what I'm talking about, why are you so angry, more so than usual?"

"That douche-bag in there has been lying to us, I think I have a right to be angry, think about what's at stake, Cas, come on, this is me."

Castiel frowned. Dean had been known to go a little extreme if the situation was dire. No, he shook his head, this was too far even for desperate Dean. He glanced back at Dean and watched as his eyes carefully flickered to his arm, saw the brief twitch in his left hand as if wanted to reach for his arm. He narrowed his eyes and advanced on the human. Dean flinched and glanced back at his arm as he backed away. Cas couldn't find out, he couldn't know what Dean had done. He had known at the time that it had been wrong, dangerous but had allowed the transfer of the mark to happen. He had been blinded with an Abaddon shaped lust to kill and if this was the only way, then so be it. Since then his user friendly anger had grown and swelled into a red haze that tinted the edges of his eyes at a moment's notice. Cas could not find out he had the Mark of Cane. The angel would give him that look again. That one he got whenever Dean did something courageously stupid. Castiel reached him, far quicker than he thought and even with his "super juice" his strength was no match for the power of the angel. Cas grabbed his arm and although Dean struggled, he quickly flung back the sleeve of his jacket and exposed the tribal Mark of Cane. He lifted his gaze and stared into the blue eyed judgement of his friend.

"What have you done, Dean?" Cas's voice was soft and laced with fear and worry. The look on Sam's face was so clear now in his mind. No human was meant for the power of the mark. His body and his soul were not built for this. Cas dropped his arm and stepped back.

"I did what had to be done."

"That mark is dangerous, Dean, it was not meant for you."

"I don't care, Cas, can't you see, this is the only thing that can kill Abaddon, all I need is the first blade and then I can poke a few holes in that black eyed bitch," Dean's voice had lost its anger and now softly pleaded his case. Cas shook his head, pain written all over his face.

"You won't survive this," was all he said before he turned back to the dungeon. One thing he knew for certain. They couldn't let Dean near anymore demons, the more he was exposed, the more dangerous it became and letting Dean Winchester die, was not something he would ever allow even if he had to bind the fates to fix it.