[ He glances down then, focusing on the light path he takes with his fingers, and it's always the contrast he finds incredibly fascinating. Dean in comparison to him, how they're both roughened from the hardships they've faced but in different ways. Castiel turns his hand just slightly, the mala beads wrapped around his own wrist sliding gently over skin. ]

You don't know what I believe, Dean.

[ His own faith might have slowly deteriorated over the course of those several years, but he's found that belief is far more distinct than knowing. Castiel knows what exists out there, all those things he's seen and experienced, but trying to grasp for a meaning in all of it circles back to the existence he's carved for himself in that camp with Dean more than anything else. Now it's here, and he doesn't regret that.

How could he with the way things are? ]

Because you're different doesn't mean it's wrong. Maybe it's-- I like you whatever way you are regardless of the past. [ Since he knows everything still lies underneath; it just takes effort to reach it. He lifts his eyes to meet Dean's carefully. ] And if that's the plan, I'm with you.

[ Whatever it might mean, he'll do it. ]