"Dean's experience with trust have rarely ended in his favor," Cas explained bluntly. "In our reality, there is a very fine line between that of hunter and hunted. Yet in other realities, I understand that is not the case. As for your flinging him...you would not be the only being to have ever done that."
It was something Cas only admitted to in regret. He wasn't proud of his actions regarding Dean that night in the alleyway...yet he'd been angry. And he'd not been so willing to allow Dean to throw away everything he, Bobby, and Sam had worked so hard for. At the time, violence had seemed like the only appropriate course of action, though he also admitted that there were certain aspects of Dean's personality that he found grating.
He watched as the swab of her blood covered the wound and once it was through, he rubbed the spot. There was still dried blood that would need to be washed, but he felt he could attend to that later. Looking up, he met Phaedra's eyes and nodded. "I'm aware," he replied. "Fighting among hunters is apparently common, and as satisfying as smashing a glass against someone's head can be at times...I take no pleasure in it."
Standing up, he shrugged his jacket back on. He felt somewhat light-headed and would need to find something to eat, but a cigarette still seemed more appealing. "Thank-you," he replied. "If you require more, you may contact me. Though if you simply wish to speak, you may also do so. It seems to be a place that demands having respectable allies."