Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Supernatural world, which is trademarked by the CW, and Eric Kripke. Both Castiel and Dean are characters created and owned by Eric Kripke, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the world of story I tell here about is my own invention, and it is not purported or believed to be part of the canon. As much as I wish it were so this is not considered canon and I profit in no way from posting this. Don't sue me, I have no money.

This story is not designed to be an accurate depiction of a BDSM relationship their mantra is safe, sane, and consensual and I can't guarantee that this story will be all three at the same time. This is a fantasy, not reality.

"A little more tequila, a little less demon hunting, and we would've had Max's childhood…"

"Apparently some philosophy guy, I can't think of his name right now, said I think, therefore I am and that's the rationale behind the CO equal rights movement, they have thoughts like people can so that must make them real. It's bullshit. Back in my day we just called them robots and told them what to clean up. The PC bullshit just makes society weaker; we give the robots equal rights what's next? Do we start asking a cow if it's ok to eat it? A fleshlight if it's ok to fuck it?"

Dean Winchester scowled, then muted the T.V. He didn't give two shits what some random asshole said on TV, but the loud, obnoxious douche had Sam practically livid with outrage. Sam shot him a dirty look and turned the volume back on. Sammy was crashing on his couch until he got settled here in Chicago. He had taken his breakup with longtime girlfriend Jess hard, unfortunately having his baby brother crash on his couch was interrupting Dean's own life.

Dean was getting ready for work he had already pulled on his jeans and black t-shirt with the faded letters of Singer's scrap yard on it. While he no longer worked for Bobby the shirt was sentimental of his youth helping the old man fix broke down heaps of junk into beautiful, fast cars. At the factory, he worked in now he rarely got to fix anything as nice as a car, but it paid the bills even if he just spent all day soldering bolts on tanks.

Sammy and Jess had been engaged for four years, and he never took that last leap, not that Dean blamed him. He wasn't keen one long term relationships himself.

On top of that Sam was wrapped in the CO movement and rather than looking for a job, an apartment or a new girlfriend, he sat on Dean's couch all day, brooding and screaming about equal rights.

"That is bullshit!" Sam shouted emphasizing pointing to the screen as details about the upcoming press conference from G. O. D. Corp, the world's only manufacturer of Cybernetic Organisms scrolled across the screen.

Dean ignored him and continued making breakfast. Bacon and eggs. As far as he was concerned, he didn't care if the CO's had thoughts or not, it didn't matter to him, they were dangerous and they killed people. Human-like or not, he had no problem taking them out. They weren't human after all just good at acting like it.

Not that he would let a bleeding heart like Sammy know that or that he agreed fully with the bigot on the TV. He didn't think keeping the robots as slaves was the answer. They were monsters and monsters would always kill.

"I don't trust them," Dean muttered for what must have been the thousandth time since Sam took up residence on his couch.

Sam rolled his eyes and continued to watch the news.

Dean knew he wasn't alone in his thinking. After all, it was only 1983 that the DE-mon units malfunctioned and attacked hundreds of thousands of people. His mother included. Not to mention the war that came after. Some called it the cybernetic war for independence others just called it war against the machines.

While he wasn't alone his wasn't the only opinion. There were three camps of thoughts when it came to the COs the first was a return to the status quo. Robots were originally designed to be workers and help with menial tasks. The closer they got to looking human the more tasks they could accomplish. Until an entire submarket of robot sex slaves existed. Reading about it in history class the few times he paid attention made his skin crawl.

The next camp was the CO equal rights, and they wanted the robots to have all the same rights as everyone else. They claimed the malfunction that caused the DE-Mons to attack was in part because of the terrible way they were treated and that they should be rehabilitated, and the other classes of CO's be granted freedom. That the war was just a reaction to their enslavement. Then there was Dean, who figured robots should never have been made in the first place. He wasn't advocating mass genocide, but if it came down to his life, the life of someone he loved and deactivating a robot, his answer was easy. The war had changed him and if in his spare time, even after he'd been discharged, he helped hunt down and deactivate those malfunctioning black eyed bitches that attacked his mom who could complain? He didn't trust them either. No one knew why the DE-mon units malfunctioned. Who knew when it would happen again?

"You sound like a grumpy old man," Sam called out over his shoulder. Dean could see the CEO of G.O. . Zachariah Fuller and older weasely faced man making his way up to the podium.

"If you are referring to Bobby then yeah I guess so."

Sam shot him yet another sour look.

"You know if you keep that up your face will stay like that." Dean insisted with mock seriousness. Sam turned back to the news as they press conference began.

"Real original Dean." He muttered sarcastically

"And find a job! I can't support your lazy ass for another month!" he shouted back as he left the apartment.

He shut the door before Sam had a chance to reply leaving him with a sweet smile on his face getting the last word. Even if it wasn't true. Sam was the only family he had and they both knew he would let his brother stay here indefinitely if he needed too.

Dean walked over to his baby, a 1967 Chevy Impala. The only good thing his dad ever did for him was giving him this car, and he had spent years fixing her up and taking care of her she was the only lady in his life.

He slid into his car and started her up, the purr of the engine was a balm on his soul. The one machine he could stand. Dean wasn't a Luddite, but growing up he had earned an intense mistrust for machines. He never knew what would set his dad off. One time Sam came home with an iPhone and the old man lost his shit. They spent the rest of the night barricaded in the bedroom.

The radio squawked to life with some obnoxious commercial "Several units have been selected for distribution. State of the art, first model introduced in fifteen years…"Dean turned the radio down; he would have to talk to Sam about changing the station.

As he drove to work, he thought about today. The boss said that they needed to talk to him on Monday when he left last week. It was either good news or bad.

He hoped it was good, but knowing his luck he was prepared for the worst. He'd had Sammy help him dust off his resume over the weekend. Not that there was even much on it. Dean rarely stayed in one place too long so there wasn't a lot of stable steady jobs that he could put on there.

He just had his GED, and a give em hell attitude. He always got restless. A years there, six months there, once he packed up and moved again after two weeks. He had been here for nearly three years.

It was a habit he picked up as a kid. Hell he'd only been fifteen when he and Sammy ran away from home. He and Sammy lived on their own till Sam went to college. He was so used to moving at a moment's notice he still kept a duffle in the bottom of his closet if shit should hit the fan. He liked his job here, but he knew if he lost it there would be another place where he could hang his hat.

Life was like that. One moment he thought he had everything under control and then everything went to shit. He pushed the memory away he didn't want to think about her right now.

It wasn't a long commute to work, but he liked to take the scenic route. He turned the radio back on and rocked out to Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Simple Man" with the windows down letting the early spring air style his hair for him.

When he pulled into work, he wasn't quite ready to give up the freedom of the open road. The wanderlust that had haunted him for all his adult life was making him itch for a trip and not to be cooped up behind four walls. Except he had a job to do.

Purgatory Steel was a large factory surrounded by a razor wired fence. The building was made of blue corrugated metal and sported a decrepit looking little parking lot and more cameras than they needed.

They took whatever jobs they could get their hands on. Some days it would be fixing tanks getting the ready for deployment. Others would be working on scrap metal melting it down until there was enough to make some else from it. Sometimes they fixed cars for special clients. After the collapse of the economy that was what most people did but with them it was also a cover. A lot of them were hunters. They went out after rogue CO units for a price. The early models while not as sophisticated as the DE-mon units still they had their own set of glitches. G.O. wanted to make it seem as if the DE-mon models were the only one with issues, but it wasn't the case, plus it wasn't always their Android or Gynoid models that had problems, but they hadn't had a case in months. More than half the country was in debt and just barely scraping by while the top percent had more money than they could wipe their ass with. Plus with a large percent of the population still fighting in the war it made things harder.

He left his denim jacket in his car and went inside. He went past the assembly line where occasionally they helped put together military mech suits for the military to his locker. He pulled on his dark blue coveralls with the purgatory company logo across the back and his name stitched in black and white letters over his heart.

"The boss wants to see you in her office." Dean glanced up to see his buddy Benny Lafitte

He was wearing a fitted off white long sleeved shirt with the top two buttons undone showing an expanse of his throat and chest. He hadn't shaved in over a week, and his thick stubble only served to make him look more rugged.

Dean couldn't help the immediate reaction to Benny's smooth Louisianan accented voice.

He turned back to his locker and cleared his throat at the sudden roughness to his voice "Yeah thanks, man." He called out. Not looking at him.

Hell there were worse things than wanting to bang your best friend, but it still was a bit awkward. He needed to get over this crush. With Sam living at his place for a month, he hadn't brought anyone home during that whole time men or women.

It was getting to him. Normally he could put his crush on Benny on the back burner. Dean wasn't interested in acting on his desire for Benny he was his friend anything else would be too complicated, but that was when he was getting a steady supply of meaningless sex.

Lately, that well had dried up. Yeah, he could probably bring a girl home, and Sam wouldn't object. He might raise his brow a bit, but he could probably bring a guy home also and Sammy wouldn't say anything. While he had never really talked about him liking men with Sammy, he never guarded his gaze or tried to hide that part of himself at least not from Sammy.

Still he didn't think it would be fair to Sam if he rubbed it in his face that he was with someone even if it was just for the night and he was alone. However, if Sam didn't get a job soon, Dean was going to die of blue balls.

Dean slammed his locker shut and turned to go talk to the boss. On his way there he ran into Garth. A skinny little guy with dusty brown hair. Garth had more energy than his thin body could contain. He was always energetic and excited or optimistic about something.

"Did you hear the announcement?" he asked his face lit up with excitement. "Heading that way now?" Dean responded jerking his thumb towards the office letting him know he was in a hurry to talk to the boss.

Garth didn't seem to catch the hint. "No not about that." He asserted waving his hand dismissively towards the office.

"About the CO's." He continued. Dean grimaced he didn't want to talk to Garth about this considering his girlfriend was a L-upus CO's who adopted the name Bess. He was one of the few people here in purgatory just for their mechanical experience and not for anything else.

"Kind of in a hurry here Garth." Dean snapped his patience was waning.

The man pouted. The full grown man in front of him looked up at him like a pouty two-year-old who didn't get a piece of cake.

Dean sighed heavily not caring that Garth heard the annoyance in his tone he continued.

"What is it Garth?" He asked waiting for the man to continue. "They introduced a new model today!" he insisted excitedly.

"You're gonna have to slow it down a bit Garth I have no idea what you're talking about," Dean muttered bored raising his hands up in appeal.

"G.O. they released a new class of CO's" Garth excitedly said as if it was the most interesting gossip he had ever heard.

"Winchester!" the boss insisted sticking her head out of her office door. Saving Dean from having to respond to Garth he just nodded to Garth and trudged the rest of the few feet till he reached her office.

Ellen Harvelle, was a no-nonsense lady that was as tough of nails, with a spine of steel. She didn't back down from a fight, but she wasn't unnecessarily cruel. Dean liked her and even though for a while there she was almost his mother in law she didn't let that get in the way of their working relationship. She didn't treat him any different than she did any other employee. If there was a bit of a soft spot towards him there at all, she didn't show it. Ellen was strong

She took over running both the bar and Purgatory when her husband was killed by DE-mons, so there was no love lost between her and the CO's that was why the request sounded even crazier coming from her.

"What the Hell Ellen?" he demanded wanting her to say it again just to be sure he heard he right.

Rather than repeat herself she hardened her expression and scowled

"It's a promotion Dean I didn't think you would take it like this" she insisted ice flowing into her words.

"Bullshit you knew exactly how I'd take it!" he shouted jumping up from his chair.

Running his hands through his hair in agitation. Thinking over her request. G.O. was giving them one of their new versions of their Cybernetic Organisms in a show of good faith that humans and androids could work well together. Their goal was the promotion of their product in a commercial setting. They were also offering Ellen a shit tone of cash to go along with this. It was no secret that she hated CO's the roadhouse was an exclusively human bar. It was good for business if a known CO objector was working side by side with this new model.

She had asked him to take charge of the CO and act as its manager and overseer. The newer CO's required a handler to act as the supervisor since it had the ability to learn, but its free will was limited by its handler's commands in an effort to keep control. It was an effort to fix the mistakes of their previous model and "its violent outburst" as they called it.

"Is this promotion mandatory?" he wondered.

She glared at him leaning heavily on her desk. With a deep resigned sigh she continued

"You're the only one I trust to keep an eye on it." She finally continued "Can you imagine if Garth was in charge of it?" she asked incredulously.

Dean didn't want to think about it.

"You don't have to accept it." Dean pointed out "Those unnatural bastards can't be trusted." He added. A fact both he and Ellen knew well.

"If I want to keep the business I do." She answered simply she didn't offer any further explanation. Dean didn't ask. He knew that business had been suffering for a while. They had fewer and fewer legitimate customers for Ellen for launder the money through for their less legitimate side business

"They are offering me an ungodly amount of money." She rationalized. "For six months of work."

Dean felt a hard pit in the bottom of his stomach. He wanted nothing to do with this, but he couldn't stand the thought of Ellen losing the business because he couldn't suck it up.

He nodded clenching his teeth on the denial that he wanted to scream. He would do it, but that didn't mean he needed to spend any more time with it than he had to. It was a tool. The same level as a forklift or a wrench.

"It will be here later today. I will need you to start training it immediately. Apparently it has some basic training but it knows nothing about our industry." Dean scowled, he wasn't sure what she meant but nodded just the same.

He went to work and tried not to think about the impending delivery of the CO.

Today was a simple day, but because of their unwanted guest Dean wanted to take care of some undesirable garbage before it arrived. Moving the barrels of assorted robot parts to the iron smelt.

While it wasn't illegal to deactivate COs, it wasn't exactly legal either. Wordlessly Benny came up beside him and help him load up the forklift and dump everything in the heat of the furnace. That was what he didn't want to mess up with Benny; they had this unspoken communication. They worked well together. They both served in the war and knew what it was like to come home and have everything be the same, but so different.

It was maybe noon when the box came in. It was a strange looking thing like a shiny silver coffin. This side up with an arrow let them know how to move it, and the word Ångel was printed along one side with G.O. along the other.

Garth was practically atwitter with the idea of seeing one of the most recent models of CO Dean was resigned. This was going to end badly no matter how they sliced it. If the companies promotion worked, that would mean more CO's returning to flood the workplace with free labor and that meant people like him and Benny were out of a job. There wasn't much for someone without a college education or stability. Worse if the promotion failed, that would mean that the robots were still a few bolts short and malfunctioned somehow.

The world was still picking up the pieces of the economy after the failure of the DE-mon units. The world went from a surplus of free labor to a deficit and then with the war even less.

This was a dangerous game G. O. D. crop was playing, in more ways than one.

They pried open the shiny silver box with a crowbar. It should have creepy. The thing laying there in the box looking dead or maybe just asleep. Dean half expected it to wake up screaming shocked to find everyone there staring at it. The version they sent was an android. It was laying on its back; arms folded in an x over its chest. It wore a white dress shirt buttoned up at the wrists and buttoned up fully to the top button at the collar. It wore a blue tie with a black jacket and slacks. It looked remarkably human as much if not more than the DE-mon versions. It had brown hair and even a bit of stubble along its jaw. It was actually disturbingly attractive.

"How do we turn him on?" Garth asked unsurely.

A crowd of people had gathered around to watch the unboxing of this strange new robot. A lot of them were like Garth, excited and curious, but a lot of them had fought in the war. Ellen offered a sanctuary for those who had returned, and there was a lot of barely disguised malice. Dean was right there with them.

Dean bent down pick up the pamphlet that was clutched in one of its hands.

The only thing inside the pamphlet was a phrase and a name.

Speak his name and he will rise and await instructions.

Castiel

"Castiel? What kind of name is that for a robot?" he muttered to himself and nearly yelped in surprise as the robot opened its startlingly blue eyes and sat up.

"Hello," It said to him cocking its head slightly to the side studying him. Dean tried to slow his racing heart. Its voice sounded so human, much more so than any of the other units it was gravely but rich with a natural cadence.

It's eyes where an opulent electric blue while just as inhuman as the DE-mon unit's black eyes the intense blue paired with its handsome face was somehow beautiful.

Dean was surprised by the whimsicality of his thoughts. Never one to wax poetically about any of the people he slept with it was weird that he found himself capable of describing a thing as beautiful. It was just another bot. If it came to it, he could take it out just like the rest of them. It wasn't anything that he couldn't handle.

"Who are you?" Dean found himself asking

"I am Castiel," Dean frowned, confused by the robots understanding of self. "I mean what are you?"

"I am an Ångel unit of the L.O.R.D Division of G. O. D. Corp. My class designation is S.E.R.A.P.H. My unit designation is Castiel."

Dean wasn't sure what all of that meant, and he really didn't care he just wanted to put the damn thing to work so he could ignore how attractive its mouth was. He was sounding like a one of the Technosexual guys on TV and he didn't like it.

The robot was examining everyone crowded around it carefully, obviously searching for something.

"Who is designated as this unit's master." The word sounded so strangely sexual in this situation. It surprised him. Was expecting something else entirely, maybe overseer or manager. He quickly glanced around to see if anyone else took exception to the word. Everyone's eyes were on him waiting to see how he would react. By now the word had gotten around that he was the one promoted to deal with the CO's everyone was waiting to make a move. He was just hoping no one could tell that his dick was getting hard. There was something about the way the robot said the word. It didn't make him think about orders for work. It made him think of chains and ball gags.

"I…" Dean began, and his voice was thick, so he cleared his throat, hoping the thickness could be interpreted as repressed rage.

"I guess that would be me." He replied. The robot's crystal blue gaze swung to him.

Castiel began the scanning process that encoded this human as his master. He would use his commands as a basis for future action and while every action he performed did not necessitate a direct verbal command on the part of his master. He would not be allowed to perform certain actions forbidden by this human. Additionally, any direct verbal commands would be obeyed. Once a command was made the only ways he could ignore the command was if his master rescinded the order, or it was completed.

He recognized the human from the employee records that were given as part of his training.

"Dean Winchester." He confirmed and the human flinched at the sound of his name. Castiel frowned. In his initial training, he had been told that humans placed great importance on their individual designations and that it was important that he correctly designate them. As a form of camaraderie, he too was given an individual designation as were the rest of his brethren. Castiel held out his hand. Hesitantly the human clasped hands with him. The tiny biomarkers imbedded under the skin of his hands noted an elevated stress level in the other man. Although Castiel would not be able to tell if this was the humans normally reaction to different situations or an unusual spike in stress until he created an accurate baseline.

Its hand was warm, the robot's hand felt just like another human hand. It was disturbingly soft and hot. The DE-mons' units, hand soft human like flesh, but it had no warmth to it like lifeless skin.

"I am ready to begin my training."