When he entered Dean's mind, he does not take in the scenary. The Archangel of Justice was always a being that prefered to get straight to business. "You are not soulless, Dean."
The man jumped out of his chair and faced Michael. "How did you find me? And why do you still look like my dad?"
"You prayed to me, Dean. And your Enochian carvings don't work in your dreams."
"Good to know."
"I chose this form because it is how you know me. I am no longer using your father."
Dean relaxed slightly and sat back down. Michael knew he was trying his best to ignore the archangel at his side. They both looked out over the lake. Michael silently marveled at how beautiful it was in his vessel's mind. So peaceful despite the horrors Dean witnessed on a near daily basis. He was content to simply share this with the boy, but that was not why he had come. Dean needed him whether he knew it or not.
"Dean-"
"Save it," his vessel interrupted. Michael turned his head towards the voice, but Dean was still gazing out. The angel thought he could hear how tired that voice truly was, but Dean hid it well under a layer of annoyance and distrust.
"Dean-"
"I already know what you're going to say, Mike. But I'm not going to fall for it. I'm not saying yes. So, why don't you fly on back to heaven and leave me to my fishing."
Michael frowned deeply, "This lake has no fish."
The boy exhaled harshly and threw his fishing pole into the water. He stood and finally turned to face Michael. His voice was quiet but harsh, "What are you doing here anyway, huh? If you could visit my dreams this whole time, why haven't you been wearing my down since last year? Would've made your job a lot easier. So, come on, Mikey, tell me why tonight is so special."
"I did tell you, Dean. You prayed to me. Of course I came to you," Michael kept calm. His vessel confused him. Why would Dean call for him and then become angry with him for arriving?
"I wasn't praying to you."
"You were. I have always heard your prayers, Dean. My grace is connected to your soul. I heard the prayers you would never speak aloud." At the mention of his soul, Dean scowled. It reminded Michael of his original purpose here, "Dean, you are not soulless. Famine was lying to you. Your soul is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."
He realized that he does not know his vessel well enough when the scowl on Dean's face becomes deeper. Father, this boy was impossibly confusing.
"He tried to eat my soul and couldn't. I think that pretty much tell me everything I need to know. There's nothing there to feed on."
"I couldn't use you as my vessel if you had no soul. No angel could. The human soul protects its angelic host from the physical sensations of the world. It's why we feel no pain, can't taste anything, and why we don't succumb to physical desires."
"But Cas flinches everytime he gets hurt."
"James Novak is no longer with Castiel. He was taken into heaven when Raphael killed them both."
Dean looks honestly sad about the news. "He never said anything."
"It is understandable. Castiel is very young. He most likely was trying to keep some distance between you both. This could not have been easy for him."
"You almost sound like you care," Dean sneered at Michael in a way that actually hurt the archangel.
"Of course I care. Castiel is my brother, Dean. I love him. Raphael was punished for what he did. He was ordered to bring Castiel home."
"Looks like no one is following orders anymore."
"It would appear so."
They lapsed into silence again, Dean looking thoughtful. He spoke up after what seemed like hours in this place, "If I really do have a soul, why couldn't Famine eat it? And why didn't I crave anything."
His vessel's tone awakened a sadness in Michael he had not felt in a very long time. Dean was so distrustful of any good news. "You did crave, Dean. You craved for nothing. You want so desperately to not need anything. If Sam had not defeated Famine, you would have eventually died of dehydration or starvation."
"Oh," Dean fell back into his chair and fell into his thoughts.
Michael placed a hand on his vessel's shoulder and squeezed in a way he thought was comforting. Dean apparently saw it as a falsely sincere gesture carefully calculated to gain his consent. He didn't shrug off the hand, but he did become tense. "You know, being nice to me still won't get me to say yes."
Michael couldn't help but sigh. He was tired of all this fighting. "I'm not trying to get you to say anything, Dean. You prayed for my help, and I am helping."
"Why?"
"Because I love you, Dean. You, Castiel and even Sam. You three are so strong. I wish my father had granted me your strength. I am a solider following the orders my destiny has set before me, but I do not want to kill my brother, Dean."
Dean's head whips toward Michael with enough speed and force that makes the angel slightly concerned for his neck until he remembers they are still in Dean's dreamworld. "Then don't. Why are even doing all of this if you don't want it to happen? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Are there any angels that aren't fucking ridiculous? Jesus."
"Please do not blaspheme."
"Whatever, man. You and Gabe sound like a couple of broken records. 'I love my family, but I wish they're hurry up and kill each other already.' You're both dicks who won't think for yourselves."
"Gabe? Who is-? Gabriel? Gabriel is alive?"
Dean looked guilty about giving the other archangel up to his big brother. He turned to give Michael some hopefully believable lie, but the archangel was nowhere to be seen.
"Shit."