[ That's a non-answer, as far as Castiel is concern, and he should just leave it at that. But like a thorn in the lion's paw, the doubt is incapacitating. His hands come fully to rest, and he looks away, disappointed in himself that he can't just let this go. Ever since they emerged from their slimy cocoons, though, he's felt this way, and he's not sure what else to do about it, other than ask Dean's opinion. ]

Of course. ...And I know that. You're unrelentingly kind, generous, and infinitely forgiving.

[ There's nothing wrong with Dean. There never has been. The problem is with Castiel himself. He doesn't know who he is. He's trying to decide who he should be, but he doesn't know which version Dean would prefer. But obviously Dean is offended by the question, so Castiel will just have to go back to trying to figure it out on his own. He looks at Dean again with lowered eyes, still distant, and his hands come up to slowly stroke Dean's back again, soothing and apologetic. ]

I'm sorry. It was an unfair question. Forget I asked.