"Not going to happen Sammy."

Dean knows that the battle is already lost. It won't be long now, until Sam pulls out the puppy eyes and no matter how often he sees it, the effect always gets him. That doesn't mean he won't go down with a fight though.

"Dammit Sammy, you can't just pick up a bot from the dumpster and drag him home. Who knows what kind of rabies he's got." Sam just gives him one of his bitch faces, but Dean refuses to acknowledge that they both know, how that is not the real reason for his reaction.

"Look, I know it's sudden and that we don't really have the space and all, but this is a one in a life time opportunity. This bot has obviously some issues I could use to work on my dissertation." And there they are, big, shiny and absolutely impossible to say no to. Dean groans, his eyes flitting to the bot that stands patiently behind his brother, eyes forward and seemingly ignorant to the discussion that is going on in front of him.

"Fine, but he's your responsibility. I won't play botsitter or anything." Sam huffs a smile, too grateful to point out that bots don't need a sitter obviously. Dean doesn't wait for him to say anything before he points his head towards the waiting bot. "So what's his name?"

Sam's happy face falls and he looks almost sheepish as he shrugs. "I don't know."

"Dude, you brought him here without even knowing his name? How did you even get him to follow you?" Dean runs a hand through his hair and wonders, not for the first time, if Sam's genius genes haven't somehow interfered with his common sense. He doesn't know anyone else after all, who would pick an obviously defect bot from the scrap yard and take him home, without at least reading the emergency data protocol or something.

Sam just shrugs again, mirroring Dean's gesture as he tries to get his hair in order, to no avail, like usual. "I poked around on his control panel, he woke up and he followed me. I figured why not, and took him home." Dean can almost hear the 'no big deal' that Sam is most likely thinking.

Sometimes he seriously doubts that he and his brother are related, there's just too much different between them. But that doesn't keep him from secretly being proud of how far his brother has come with his life. Dean on the other hand… He knows he has come far in a way, from growing up on the road and in shabby motel rooms, clearing up his father's messes more often than not, halfway between raising Sammy and failing school, to having a stable job and fixed living arrangements and making enough money (barely) to support Sam through college.

But deep down he knows that he's a failure compared to his little brother, the brother who got into college, studying Advanced Robotics of all things. All it takes for him is one look at Sam buried in his books or working on his computer with some strange program open and he feels torn between immense pride and the sinking feeling that he will never ever do something with his life like Sam does. But he reminds himself that this is fine, that he has a stable job that he likes, that he has friends, few but still, and that it is enough for him to see Sam's success.

On most nights that is even enough to put him to sleep.

He can't say he's comfortable with the bot in close proximity, he seems harmless enough but Dean knows how easily that can change. But he is also curious and he wants to know if the bot has a name, and why he just keeps standing like a marble statue when he's supposed to be all human-y and stuff. The Angelbot commercials are very clear on that matter, 'soulbots are lifelike and indistinguishable from humans'. Why anyone would want a humanlike bot, not just in appearance but also behavior is beyond Dean.

Upon closer inspection the bot actually is quite attractive, not that Dean would pay attention to the looks of a bot. Nope. Not at all. He can use a repaint though, his skin, synthetic as it is, is scraped in more than one place and his clothes are torn and dirty. His hair looks tousled as if he just dropped out of bed, the effect not at all dampened by the dirt clinging to his face. He has a bit of a stubble and Dean really has to admit that Angelbot did a really good job on the whole lifelike thing. If it weren't for his marble statue posture and unblinking stare, Dean would have never guessed that he has a bot in front of him.

The bot doesn't react as Dean comes closer, he keeps staring straight ahead, out of the pair of the deepest blue eyes he has ever seen. Indistinguishable from humans, my ass, Dean thinks. That blue almost screams inhuman, and no way anyone could stay that still without fidgeting every now and then. Dean knows that for sure, he has lived through enough military training from his father to understand that even a soldier has to blink from time to time. But there is something in those eyes that unsettles Dean, a depth that seems to scream at him and it feels to much like looking into his father's eyes when he was sober and fighting the memories that haunted him, even years after Mary's death. He shakes the thoughts from his mind, it's just a bot after all and continues with his assessment.

"Is he even on?" Dean asks once he has rounded the bot. Still no reaction whatsoever. Not even when Dean asks him directly.

Sam snorts. "Dude, he walked here."

"Shut up." Dean grumbles and searches for the opening to the control panel. He hates to admit it, but he has quite some knowledge when it comes to robomechanics. It's inevitable when half the cars nowadays have the same technology crammed under their hoods. There's nothing like a good old fashioned gasoline engine, complete with revving motor, but unfortunately he is one of the last who think like that. And of course, for all his theoretical knowledge, Sam has no idea how to maintain their little household bot, and that thing has a break down at least once a week, let alone a big complex one like this. But Dean refuses to replace it, they had it for four years now and Dean actually trusts it. That took him long enough after all.

After failing to locate a visual opening anywhere on the visible skin of the bot, and he downright refuses to undress the bot just to get to the covered bits, Dean comes to the conclusion that this must be one of those new models. You know, the really, really lifelike, that came out not so long ago. Which means that thing was fucking expensive, with all the synthetic muscles and nerves and special features and what not.

"Are you sure you found that abandoned on a scrap yard?" He doesn't need to look to see Sam's eye roll. Of course it's from the trash, have you actually looked at it Dean? He scolds himself but he just can't get over the damn smooth feeling of the skin. And those eyelashes actually look deceptively real. He can even feel motherfucking breath on his hand when he holds it under the guy's nose. Maybe he should have paid more attention to the advances made in robotics, but most of the time he was happy to let Sam upgrade their little bot with the newest program and add some gimmicks himself without looking too far over the rim of his comfortable little plate.

No wonder there had been such a huge increase in bot-brothels over the last two years, with how realistic the bot in front of him looks, the girls must be a true hit. Dean pushes those thoughts away, he still prefers good old human girls, and instead tries to recall what he remembers from the few times he actually agreed on quizzing Sam before his exams. Most of that had been programming language unfortunately.

"The opening switch is in the right ear." Sam supplies and Dean can just hear the grin in his voice.

"Yeah smugface, let's see how you'll get him to work properly so that you can take your data without me." Dean grumbles but risks a look in the bot's ear anyway. "Bring me my screwdriver." Because no way in hell will he put his finger in another dude's ear, even if that dude is a bot.

"Sonic or normal?" Dean doesn't grace him with an answer, if only there was something like a sonic screw driver. He would mess so badly with Sam's fancy digital alarm clock and his shower program, not that he can't do that already with his hands but there is something explicitly more fun about doing it per remote.

Sam comes back with his screw driver and Dean shoos him away so he can get to work in peace. He hasn't had dinner yet and is actually supposed to cook right now before Bobby comes home, yes they live in the upper story of his boss's house, but that boss is a family friend and doesn't expect rent so Dean isn't going to complain about it. But since Sam dragged this thing home and it will end up on his shoulders to fix him up anyway, he might as well start now. The sooner he's finished the sooner he can return to his other chores and forget that there will be a full sized soulbot in the house that is probably strong enough to snap Dean's bones with ease. He knows that they are fool proofed and have about a hundred safety and emergency protocols in case of a defect, but he just can't forget what happened to his mother, so he won't blindly trust a bot in the house that he hasn't at least fixed up himself.

It takes one poke into the bot's ear and a small hatch pops up, directly at the base of the neck. Dean hasn't seen lots of control panels but Angelbot keeps them pretty standard in all their bots, more customer friendly and such. There are the USB port, an insert slot for portable external programs and the LCD screen with a few buttons for basic programming and another slot. Dean frowns as he sees the too big plug that is crammed into the multipurpose slot, he doesn't know what the plug is for but it certainly doesn't fit. Maybe that's the reason for the bots weird behavior.

It takes a while of carefully wedging his screw driver under the plug and using it as a lever before it finally plops out and as on cue, the bot finally gives signs of what could pass as human life. He turns his head to look at Dean, the motion smooth and natural; he doesn't even overstretch like so many others do. Dean half expects the bot to issue some sort of protocol, listing his functions and programming options but instead he just says: "Hello Dean."

Dean is stunned. He recalls Sam calling him by his name when he came in earlier, but he didn't expect the bot to pay attention, not while being in apparent standby. But what gets to Dean even more is the voice, it is deep and gravely, like the hair, coming straight out of the bedroom.

"Uhh… hi, I guess?" Dean flounders, he doesn't really know what he expected, but certainly not that. This is almost too lifelike for his taste. "What's your name?" He asks after taking a careful step back, with the bot awake and responding it feels too much like he is in his personal space and that is something that Dean really doesn't like. Especially not from a bot.

The bot tilts his head and actually squints at him as if he has to first think about his response. "I am Castiel." Dean raises an eyebrow. He will never get over the weird names people give to their bots, but then again he was the one who named their household bot Zeppelin. A total awesome name should anyone ever ask. It's not his fault that last century music is out of fashion and that most people don't know what rock music even is anymore.

Castiel is still staring and that makes Dean uncomfortable enough to try and induce a conversation until Sam comes back and takes his new toy to do whatever he has planned for him. "So what're your functions?" He has real experience with soulbots and their possible programmings. As far as he knows they work as nannies, nurses and generally in any profession where empathy is needed, and he is even aware that some rich snobs keep the really, really lifelike ones as personal fuck toys, while calling them girlfriend or boyfriend as not to seem too kinky. Not that they can fool anyone.

"I…" The bot hesitates and frowns, and Dean is surprised because it seems like the bot is confused and can't remember what he is supposed to say. If that isn't real human behavior, Dean doesn't know what is. "I don't know." He finally admits, looking crestfallen and mimicking what has to be the so far best impression of Sam's puppy eyes Dean has ever seen.

And Dean just knows he's screwed.

"Okay." He feels the strange urge to comfort the bot, but instead he calls for Sam, because this requires technological knowledge. "I think something's screwed with his hard drive, we need to take a look at his memory protocol and see what he's been programmed with." Castiel is staring at him again and that is just not fair, because he looks hopeful and expectant. As if what Dean has just said was the Holy Grail to his salvation and now he's waiting on Dean to fix him.

Dean looks at Sam and is met with a quizzical look and a raised eyebrow. "Dude, that's exactly why I brought him home. I didn't know you were suddenly interested in my work."

Before Dean can say anything to that he is interrupted by Castiel: "I think my memory protocol has been damaged, it is incomplete and causes a lot of errors in my system."

"Well it seems you'll be here for quite a while then." Sam beams, nearly bouncing on his feet as he looks between Castiel and Dean, and since Dean fixed him up and even got involved as far as to propose to check his memory protocol, he can't really say no to that now. Damn these bots, one day they will be the end of him. He is so definitely attaching the beer holder that Sam had been refusing him, onto Zeppelin now.

Castiel seems confused again. "I don't understand."

"I'm going to fix you." Sam smiles and claps Castiel a hand on the shoulder. "It will take a while, but I promise you I will fix you. I'm Sam by the way."

"I know."

Dean has to stifle a laugh. He totally didn't think that was funny, but damn the look on Sam's face is priceless. "His name's Castiel, Cas." He doesn't really know where the nick name came from but it feels right and fits much better to the confused expression of a lost puppy that Castiel, no Cas, has on his face again.

And the look that Cas gives him is almost worth it too.