The angel sat there, frowning at the screen, wondering how humans could... function when so many vulgar thoughts ran through their complicated minds.

He re-read the last sentence mouthing the words to himself, confused and utterly baffled. He looked up to the ceiling and muttered, 'and you thought Judas was sinful.' He felt dirty just scrolling down the page.

Sam had taught the angel how to use the computer, very basically, but Castiel had learnt fast to everyone's surprise. He irritated everyone with his most common past time; googling facts and letting anyone who would listen know the 'real story'. Then he usually complained that books were far more factual and that knowledge should be noted higher than accessibility.

So, not able to contain his curiosity, he had googled himself... with very mixed results. Some websites had told stories of Castiel as an angel and had depicted various facts, some untrue, some very true, about angels. Some links led to Facebook pages which Castiel had not bothered about as he had no idea what a 'Facebook' was, but there was a link that had spiked his interest.

'Castiel – when good angels go bad.'

Castiel had clicked it and thought it may be a site about his journey from being a warrior of God to being friends with Dean and Sam, mentioning all the sins he had committed along the way, but he was sorely mistaken.

Now he felt that he would never look at humans the same way again.

He re-read the... story... and tried to reason with what line of thinking that these humans could possibly be using. He looked up to the ceiling again.

'Well... their minds are... using very... creative language? Ugh,' he shook his head in disgust. There was no defending this. There were so many things wrong with what he was reading, he didn't know where to start. He didn't even know what half the phrases meant, but according to the context of the words surrounding them, he could only guess. And his guesses were pretty much spot on.

Castiel continued reading and ten minutes later, the door opened with Dean and Sam Winchester walking in and throwing their stuff down onto the shifty motel beds, causing the springs to creak and dust to fly up.

'Ahhh, home sweet home... Cas? What are you doing here?' Asked Dean, surprised. Castiel shut the laptop slowly, horrified. Dean and Sam looked at each other before rushing over; obviously if Cas was showing this much emotion then something had to be wrong.

'What's wrong?' Asked Dean panicking. Cas looked up at him, unblinking.

'Humans.'

'Well gee, thanks,' said Dean, relaxing. Obviously Cas had seen something that had once again made him question humanity. He needs to lighten up and get off his high horse, grumbled Dean in his head.

'What have we low-life humans done now?' Asked Sam, passing Dean a beer.

'I... You...' Cas seemed lost for words.

'Oh ok, thanks for clearing that one up,' said Dean sarcastically, having a swig before pulling his boots off.

'Your... sick fascination with sin,' Castiel finally said. Sam and Dean raised an eyebrow, evidently confused.

'Care to elaborate, Cas?' Asked Sam.

'Did you find the centrefold that fell out of Busty Asian Beauties? If so, sorry, and can you please give it back,' said Dean, smiling.

'Why are humans under the impression that angels... mate?' Asked Castiel gravelly.

Dean almost spat out his beer, eyes wide.

'What?'

Sam eyed the laptop in Cas's hands.

'Cas... have you been googling crap again?' He asked condescendingly.

He reached for his laptop but Castiel kept a grip on it, looking at Sam with pleading eyes.

'Sam if you value your sanity, please don't read this. Unless you want untoward images seared into your brain for eternity, then I seriously doubt you want to read this.'

'Oh now I gotta see this,' said Dean, ripping it out of Castiel's hands and opening it.

'Dude it looks like a novel,' he said, disgruntled, scrolling back to the top of the page. Same moved his chair closer so he could read. Dean cleared his throat and read out, 'When good angels go bad by... Caslover11?'

Dean looked at Cas with a 'what the hell is this' look before continuing on silently. Sam and Dean were expressionless for some time, obviously the beginning of the story seemed normal enough.

'This sounds pretty normal,' voiced Sam.

'Keep reading,' said Castiel monotonously before taking Sam's beer and drinking half the bottle.

Sams face was the first to change; clearly he was a faster reader than Dean. He looked mildly amused, and then he tilted his head slightly and frowned, mouthing a couple of words. Then it was pure disgust.

'Oh... dude,' he muttered, closing his eyes and looking away.

'It gets worse,' assured Cas, eyeing the beer again.

Sam gave him a horrified look before looking back at the screen.

'I don't get it, why am I touching your wings?' Asked Dean, frowning as he read, 'I'm pretty sure I can't even see the damn things.'

A few seconds later and Dean's face changed, his eyes squinting and his mouth pouting in disgust.

'Oh... dude.'

'I know,' said Sam who was struggling to make sense of it. Then his eyes widened even further.

'Did that seriously just say that I-'

'Yep,' said Cas.

'And you?'

'Yep.'

'Then... Dean?'

'Yep.'

'What the hell.'

'I know.'

Sam ran a hand through his hair.

'Why don't people understand that we're brothers,' he referred to Dean who was sitting there looking as if a herd of elephants had just ran in front of him wearing tutus. He covered a hand over his mouth and breathed hard out his nose.

'This... is...'

'Perverted? Wrong? Sick? Evil? Twisted?' suggested Sam.

'Way too many... describing words. Too much detail,' Dean turned to Cas, 'I will never, ever be able to look at that trench coat again.'

'You're lucky you weren't here ten minutes earlier... There was one named 'Sabriel'.' He frowned as he spoke the foreign word.

'I don't get it. I don't want to get it,' said Dean, standing up.

'It means-'

'Cas! I said I don't want to get it, damn it!' Childishly, Dean covered his ears. Sam closed the laptop.

'I think...' he said after a while, 'I'm going to have to go to hell again.'

'What for?' Asked Cas and Dean.

'For killing a prophet. I'm going to tear Chuck a new one.'

'Hear, hear!' Shouted Dean.

'Amen,' agreed Cas, downing the rest of the cheap beer and silently praying that God sent help to whomever wrote that story.

Miles away in downtown Detroit, two angels were in hysterics. Zachariah laughed, high-fiving Uriel and logging out of the computer. They heard Castiel's prayer and Uriel snorted, 'Poor Castiel.'

'I feel more sorry for us, Brother,' said Zachariah.

'Why?'

'Because I have a feeling that Daddy isn't going to be happy with you, Caslover11.'