Angel air is one of Dean's least favorite modes of transportation, a close second to any other kind of actual flying, and Dean pushes away from Cas to find them both on a long strip of deserted beach, with no one and nothing in sight. Cas removes his overcoat and drapes it around Dean's shoulders, both of them pretending the shudders from his body are in response to the breeze and not silent sobbing. But Cas moved them far south on the Padre Island National Seashore, and even close to midnight it is 65 degrees.
As his eyes adjust to the light of a waning moon, Dean finds a driftwood log and sits down. He pulls the too big coat more tightly around his slender form, pushing his arms into the sleeves. He brings his knees up to his chest, covering his bare feet with the coat. Cas thinks he is much like a turtle, pulling into his shell for protection.
Cas waits for Dean to compose himself enough to speak. He has been mentally kicking himself for revealing Dean's dark secrets, and at the same time telling himself that Sam needed to be told the full horror that has been inflicted on his brother. He is preparing that argument in case Dean requests that he wipe the memory of what he just said from Sam's mind. Dean clears his throat.
"So, you wanta go back and tell him every fucking humiliating act Alastair forced me to do? How good I got at it? Maybe give him some more details of my debasement?" Dean's voice sounds as though he has swallowed gravel, like he has to force sound to come through his throat.
"But, I tell you honestly, Cas, I am not as ashamed of what I did in Hell as I am of what I did when I was a kid," Dean's voice sounds strangled, "prostituting myself. I don't think you could have found a worse memory to bring into the light of day…" Dean trails off like he cannot even find enough energy to sustain his anger.
The angel manages to still even more, becoming like a statue as he considers what his friend has just revealed.
"Dean, there is no stain of dishonor on your soul for what you did to survive, for the sacrifices you made, as a child or in Hell. There never was. If this, indeed, is the basis of your low self-worth, we should root it out now. You did the best you could, always, for you and for your brother. I assure you, Sam will not love you any less…"
Dean cuts him off. "You don't know that! He'll look at me differently, Cas. He'll see a, a victim instead of, of me, of his big brother. He won't even want to look at me anymore."
Castiel's head tilts to the side, considering the slight form in front of him. "No, Dean. No. Sam loves you. This will not make him change his opinion of you." Cas tries again to convince him. "It does not change who you are."
In a voice so low that it is almost lost in the sound of the waves, Dean says, "Dad said he was ashamed of me, that he couldn't look at me the same anymore. That what I did was …" The rest of what Dean says is lost in the folds of the coat with a stuttering sob.
His hands fold into fists as Castiel reminds himself that everything Dean has experienced has gone in to making him the person he is, the soul whose beauty shone so brightly in Hell for years as Castiel and members of the garrison fought to rescue him. That every ache and injury was necessary to make Dean into what he was destined to be. That no matter how fiercely Castiel wants to, it would be wrong of him to abuse his power by time traveling back to set John Winchester straight. But Cas doesn't have to like it.
"I am sorry, Dean. Sorry to bring this up and to complicate things for you when you are already weakened by dealing with so much." Castiel moves to sit next to Dean on the log. "I was trying to make your brother understand that you are still you, just trapped in this body from the past. I chose badly."
Cas waits to see if Dean will respond, looking at the dark blond hair peeping out of the top of his overcoat. Dean stays hidden. "When I look at you, even now in that child's body, I see the strong, beautiful soul I fought to bring out of Hell. I see the Righteous Man who taught me, an angel of the lord, about my Father's intent. I see my friend."
Dean still does not respond, but he moves slightly, leaning against the angel's arm just a little, and Cas marvels once again about how easily Dean forgives him for the unforgivable things he does. Castiel shifts his body around to cradle his friend, smiling softly when Dean's head pops back up out of the coat to gaze off into the night sky.
Dean sighs too deeply for the feeling to belong to a teenage boy, and Castiel can feel the young body's resolution reemerge. "Cas, you need to cut Sam some slack. I don't think he's thinking real clearly. This has been a shock to him and he was de-aged too, you know. He's probably dealing with emotional turmoil again, like me right now."
Cas nods, holding back a smile at how Dean is, even now, coming to Sam's defense, but all he says is "Very true."
"So, I know you're busy, Cas, and I'm sorry if I pulled you away from something important, but it's like I can't even find the place where I ran into this fairy before. Could you help with that? I mean, I don't know whether angels and fairies are connected at all, even though some of the lore says that elementals have connections to archangels…" Dean finishes in a rush. "Damnit, Cas, I hate sounding like the damsel in distress, but I need some help here."
The angel thinks of the many different things he would like to say to this, starting with insisting to Dean that he, too, is important. Instead he gives the response he knows Dean most needs to hear. "I will help you find this creature and give what assistance I can in righting this, returning both you and your brother to your rightful bodies."
Dean releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "That's good. Cas, thank you. So now, I guess I've got to go back and face Sam again. Ummm, Cas. I think I'd better talk to Sam on my own."
As they stand up, Dean removes the overcoat and hands it back to Castiel. He shivers slightly, missing the warmth of the coat almost immediately, and peers up at Cas through his impossibly long eye lashes. "And, uh, thanks for the other stuff you said too, Cas. It means a lot to me."