Castiel sprang to his feet so quickly the chair crashed and clattered to the ground behind him.

Black eyes blinked, and Dean sat bolt upright. His eyes shifted and fell back to their normal green. He looked up at Cas, his gaze focused as the visible cuts and bruising on the hunter's face began to repair themselves. "Cas?"

Cas still didn't say anything, standing his ground, watching the demon begin to move.

"What's going on?" He scrunched his brow, trying to think. He brought his hand up, flexing his fingers and watched in real time as the flesh knit back together over busted knuckles. His expression darkened and Cas shuddered as he watched Dean's eyes blacken again with it. "Did Sam do something?"

"Dean…" Cas' voice was low, though he wasn't sure if it was with warning or assurance. He could see the demonic face… could see the darkness twisting through the remains of Dean's soul, but it was still recognizably Dean.

Dean rose to his feet in one fluid motion, fist clenched. "I told him to let me go, Cas."

"Dean." Now it was a clear warning.

Dean blinked in mild surprise, his eyes snapping back green again. "Cas?" He asked, hesitant to know why Cas was using that tone with him. He took a half step back. "What did he do?" He tried to read the angel's expression. He noted that Cas' hand was partly raised, as if ready to attack. To attack him. "Cas tell me what he did, because I can feel something is wrong."

"How exactly are you feeling?"

Dean paused. "I feel awesome for a guy who just got shish kebabbed." He tried to take stock of his body but nothing made sense. "The mark feels like it's on fire. I feel…" He really did actually feel great. He felt like he could do anything. Stronger than he ever had. He tilted his head back up to look at Cas. "What brought me back?" He demanded.

Cas was hesitant. "The mark…?"

Dean pushed the sleeve up on his arm and looked down at the raised scar, watching it as it slowly dimmed from where it had been burning with power. He ran his fingers over it.

"Dean… you're-"

"A demon." Dean's voice was emotionless, and his expression was pensive as the realization dawned on him. "Cain wasn't a demon when he killed his brother. The mark made him." The puzzle pieces slotted themselves in place with such clarity. Dean absently pressed his hand over the mark.

Cas regarded Dean carefully, not letting his guard down. He could see the power falling off the hunter like wisps of black smoke.

Dean's head snapped up, eyes flicking black yet again. "What does that mean?"

Cas shook his head slowly. "I am not sure."

The demon narrowed his eyes. "You're afraid of me."

"No."

"No. You're not." his eyes remained black for the moment. "You're afraid for me." He tilted his head to the side. "You don't want to hurt me."

"And I won't have to." Cas asserted firmly.

"How long was I out?"

"You were dead for sixteen hours and twenty two minutes."

Dean considered this. "Did Metatron hurt Sam?"

"He did not. He returned when he sensed me break the tablet." Cas let his hand drop back to his side, feeling a little more at ease for the moment. "Metatron is dead."

"So you managed to stop him."

"Not quickly enough." the angel muttered.

Dean looked over the angel. He looked… Dean focused harder and he could see around the seams. See the barely contained angel vibrating in the empty human vessel he'd been wearing for near a decade. It was incredible, seeing this layer that his human eyes couldn't perceive. He tried to get a better look, to push his sight further, but the light built swiftly into an unbearable crescendo. His demonic eyes reflected the pure blinding angelic glow and he cried out. He staggered backwards, knocking into the nightstand, hands coming up to block his eyes from direct sight.

"Dean!" Cas stepped forward quickly, steadying the hunter as he realized what happened. "Don't try to look too far past the vessel." He instructed firmly. "It'll burn right through you."

"Right." Dean muttered. Obviously. His hand rested over the hand that was still gripping his arm. He looked back up at Cas, careful to keep his gaze away from the angelic light within his form. He noted fresh tears reflecting in those blue eyes.

Cas' voice was soft. "I thought you were gone for good. I wasn't fast enough, and he killed you."

Dean felt a stirring of some emotion. He watched the angel carefully. "I'm alive."

"I thought Metatron was lying, but I called and Sam... He-" Cas blinked as if thinking of it for the first time. His face settled back into its calm facade. "We should get Sam. He went to drink or for all I know, call Crowley… to ask about the mark or to demand he help you…" He started to pull away but Dean grabbed his forearm, and Cas snapped his attention back to the demon, suddenly on high alert.

"Not yet." Dean said firmly. He watched Cas' expression relax back from the heightened alarm his sudden grip had caused. "Come here." He said gruffly, pulling him forward.

Cas was surprised by the kiss. Affection was something that Dean was usually far more subtle about and rarely instigated. He let his eyes close, taking comfort from the contact. He had thought Dean was gone, truly gone just moments ago. So he welcomed this contact even in lieu of the embrace he would have expected.

Dean meanwhile was trying to reconcile the change in how it felt. Even as a human, he could sense something. Cas was a celestial being, pure energy much larger than that of his human vessel. Shoving that power into such a small receptacle… Touching Cas normally felt just a little like putting your hand through static electricity. And when their lips met, it was always even more noticeable.

Now however, even without pushing beyond to glimpse the shadow of his true form, he could feel so much more. It was like electricity was pulsing through his spine, and it was somewhat intoxicating. Dean deepened the kiss, pressing closer to the angel, trying to make sense of each sensation as it came.

It was Cas who pulled back first. He froze when he saw Dean's eyes, pitch black again, staring almost through him. He was taken off guard when Dean grabbed the lapel of his jacket, pulling him back roughly, taking his lips once more. His hand shot up and closed around the hunter's arm.

Dean swung Cas around, backing him into the wall, knocking an unloaded shotgun clattering to the ground. His free hand combed through Cas' hair, fastening into a grip on the angel's head, pulling him closer. He bridged the gap between them, pulling their bodies flush with one another.

Castiel only let it continue for a second before he shoved the hunter off him.

Dean rubbed the back of his hand over his bruised lip. He moved forward again.

This time Cas threw him back, his eyes glowing blue as he used his strength to put a few feet's distance between them. "Dean." That warning tone was back.

A grin crept across the demonic hunter's expression. "Aw come on, don't tell me you didn't enjoy that."

Cas swallowed. "This isn't you."

Dean spread his arms, hands out. "It's all me."

Cas shook his head. "We need to get Sam."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"That's the mark talking, not you."

"The mark is me. I am the mark."

The angel held firm. "That isn't true."

Dean deepened the smile, feeling a rush as he thought about it. "Yeah, I think it is."

"Dean stop."

"Sorry babe. Don't feel like it." He let his hands drop to his sides, feeling himself start to let go of the pain, of the doubt and uncertainty that plagued him constantly his entire life. He let himself start to embrace the side of him that wanted freedom. Wanted to live a little. His demon half.

"Dean!"

But he was already gone. Blinked away with a single thought.

Cas was left standing alone, his heart pounding in his chest, trying in vain to process what just happened.