Castiel

 It was another two weeks before Castiel reappeared for Dean again- and not because Dean called. 

Dean was in distress- he could feel it. He kept a loose monitor on Dean most of the time, and the hunt he was on was supposed to be simple. Demons. He was more than capable of handling them on his own. Evidently, though, something got out of hand. Sam was knocked unconscious, and Dean was overwhelmed by the one remaining, who managed to pin him against the wall by his throat. The knife was far out of hand, and the demon much stronger. 

He was set to kill, with muscles clamping down on Dean's windpipe. Dean was slowly losing oxygen even as he struggled, but to no avail. The demon would kill him.

That was unacceptable.

And so Castiel materialized and, without hesitation, wrapped an arm around the demon and flung him into the neighboring wall. He hit it with such force, he actually managed to crack the plaster and expose the wooden interior. Castiel wasn't done. He was across the room in a blink, hauling him up by his collar and pining him there.

"You will not touch him," he snarled. The demon's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to allow the essence to billow out in a puff of black smoke. Unsatisfactory. Castiel raised a hand and forced it back into the vessel, clamped it down on the demon's mouth, and shoved his grace into the demon's orifices. Shining white light expelled from the cracks in his eyes and mouth and ears, and all at once, the body slumped, unconscious, demon smote from existence.