Dean didn't really know what to say to the robot, but he took note of who's ass he would need to kick later as he heard a few men snicker at the robot's words.

None of the men here at the knew he was Bi but still his heart raced at the perceived innuendo worried that they somehow knew. He wasn't ashamed he always enjoyed himself and he never felt any shame sharing his body and pleasure with anyone but it wasn't a part of himself that he shared with a lot of people. Not after that time in seventh grade when his dad broke his arm for kissing his math tutor.

His dad had never exactly been even tempered, but that had shot him over the edge. No son of his was going to be a fucking faggot, his words, he then proceeded the beat the shit out of him.

The next day he apologized saying he must of made a mistake jumped to conclusions. Obviously the other boy kissed Dean and he just hadn't pushed him off yet. Needless to say they switched schools again quickly after that.

They tended to switch schools a lot growing up. At first Dean thought it was because his alcoholic father couldn't hold down a decent job. Then after a while he figured it was so the state wouldn't notice the bruises on him and his brother and take them away. While Dean never could figure out if the old man loved them as much as he hated them or the other way around John Winchester wasn't going to let anyone take his boys away from him.

Still, they managed to escape him eventually and it was ancient history, but Dean never really got over it.

The robot was giving him a wide eyed quizzical stare trying to figure out what he was supposed to do likely.

"Yeah, alright." Dean agreed finally remembering the robot's statement.

He had no idea what the bucket of bolts meant by training, but he figured for his own sanity, it was better without an audience.

"Get back to work," Dean ordered. His promotion technically made him all of their bosses.

The disgruntled men scowled but did as he said, except Benny.

Dean was fine with than Benny's wariness had served him well in the past. Benny had pulled his bacon out of the fire more times than he could count. He owed him a little look see at the new enemy.

Castiel watched the two remaining men. They were obviously experienced with each other. His master Dean and the other human traded glances before nodding in understanding. Castiel pulled up his employee file. Benny Lafitte ex-soldier. The shared look was explained by their shared military service.

While not human Castiel was equipped with several different references on human psychology and the closeness brought on by sharing combat.

This also explained their tense wariness of him. In his pre-programmed training, he was informed that many ex-soldiers would find his kind troubling since they were similar to their enemy.

His training in this situation was to endeavor to put the men at ease.

"I am authorized to answer any question my master has, regarding my functions, makeup and applications." He informed them.

Dean shot Benny another look that Castiel was not able to process. His facial recognition software had not yet been calibrated towards either man, and while he had months of training in human facial expressions the Ångel model was only able to achieve an 89.98 success rate in gaguing human emotion.

Dean wasn't sure what the robot was getting at. It was standing there stock still its hands resting casually at its sides yet still seeming to stand at attention. The unnatural stiffness was most likely just a reminder of its origins.

Dean rotated his neck and shook out his arms thinking, trying to ease the sudden stiffness in his neck and shoulders. Somehow it felt like he was playing right into its hands, but he didn't really see the harm in knowing more about it.

"Ok," he finally began giving the thing a once over. He asked the first question that popped into his mind. "How come you're warm."

"Thermogenesis," the robot replied.

"What?" Dean asked, confused. "The process of heat regulation within a being." The robot explained.

Dean couldn't decide if it was being extremely literal or weirdly sarcastic. He assumed the former.

"Why does your skin feel human?" he asked trying again. The robot cocked its head to the side, studying him as if he was some lower organism. "Because it is." It replied.

A sickening feeling went through him. "So you skinned some poor bastard?" Dean asked aghast. He could see Benny stiffening next to him ready to ward off attack.

A look almost like alarm crossed the robot's face.

"No, I am incapable of harming a human, the skin was designed in a laboratory. It is a synthetic human skin, grown by the use of stem cells using a scaffold of carbon nanotubes upon which human stem cells can be grown into a variety of tissues."

"So are you a Cyborg?" Dean demanded.

"No, I am an Android. A Cyborg is a living being augmented by mechanical components. I am a mechanical being augmented by living components."

"So how is this different from the DE-mons?" Benny asked Dean waited for the robot to respond. After several moments he realized it wouldn't answer Benny's question so he repeated it.

"The DE-mon units were designed with a Cybernetic skin, a flexible electronic skin that contained an array of magnetoresistive sensor foils which sensed both static and dynamic magnetic fields overlaid with an artificially hardened thermal plastic elastomer a close emulation of real skin. The Cyberntic skin was made from ingredients on FDA approved lists and it did not contain phthalates, polyvinyl chloride (PVC), heavy metals or latex"

Dean was sure he read some of that in history class, but he didn't really care about the specifics other than if he shot or stabbed it did it die.

" So you don't have their tolerance for bullets?" Dean wondered thinking about the war. The DE-mons didn't go down just because you filled them full of lead. If it managed to puncture the skin, it still didn't guarantee that it would deactivate. The metal skeleton kept going sometimes even if that was the only thing left. If this thing was easier to gank all the better.

"No, I have a greater resistance." It assured.

Dean frowned. " How?" "While my skin is essentially human and can bruise and become damaged, my rate of healing has been genetically increased. Additionally, I have been coated with a high performance laminate that has been nano-infused with artificial spider silk. The nano particles become rigid enough to protect when the kinetic energy threshold is surpassed. While I possess an identical endoskeleton actuated by a powerful network of hydraulic servomechanisms as my predecessors, I also have an amalgam of an endocrine and a circulatory system that enables me to maintain my organic elements."

To Dean the machine's words were complete and utter gibberish it might as well have been speaking Latin. Dean thought of the war. The DE-mons didn't feel like humans, but they looked it and sounded like it. While he wasn't squeamish and had deactivated more than his fair share of them. The images and the sounds never really left him. It wasn't that he couldn't deal with it. It was just that his way of dealing involved several fingers of scotch.

Castiel could tell by the puzzled expression on the human's faces that some of his explanations only served to further confuse them. So he chose to demonstrate.

Dean froze as the robot reached for his hand again. Its skin certainly felt real as Dean clasped it. The robot rotated its hand, palm up letting his own hand slide over its wrist. Surprisingly, he felt a pulse point there just as he would with a human. It was then when he noticed that the robot was actually breathing. Dean wasn't sure if it needed the oxygen or if it was just for show. What he did know was that this made the robot ten times more dangerous than its predecessors.

It was human camouflage. Nearly indistinguishable from the real thing. Hell, if he ran into it in a bar there was no telling if he would have recognized it for what it really was. Somehow this unnerved him more than anything else. He could feel the dread rise. After he got back, he never was able to shake the feelings he got before battle. The sense of an impending attack. He was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Humans were winning the war against the machines and he knew it wouldn't be long before the machines made their next move. It didn't matter that he'd been discharged and wasn't in the army anymore he was still fighting. The fucking shrinks called it PTSD, hell, maybe they were right. He'd seen his fair share of awful shit in the war and before. When he got back rather than get celebrated for fighting for his country his whole god damned species, he got spat at. They called him a murderer. While he was off fighting the CO movement took off. They called him the monster. He didn't know anymore. Back there in the thick of it, he knew what side he was on. He knew what it was like during the war. It was pure there. Everything was black and white kill or be killed. There were enemies and allies, but you could never be entirely sure how long your allies would last.

The knot was always there in the pit of his stomach even after the war. It wasn't killing the machines. It wasn't his conscience that kept him up at night. It was the people he couldn't save. He normally covered it with booze and casual sex. This thing was designed to seem human and that somehow felt wrong.

"Tell me your primary mission." Dean ordered.

Castiel could sense a shift in the human's approach to him. Before his approach seemed to be simple curiosity now judging by his defensive stance and hardened gaze. The human saw him as a threat. While he was incapable of deceiving his master or not answering his questions he was able to proceed in a vague manner.

"Obeying the commands of my master." He answered. While not his only goal it was indeed his primary programming.

"So if I told you to kill human could you obey?" Dean asked watching him intently.

"Negative, I am incapable of harming humans." He reiterated his previous assertion. Knowing that the human needed to hear it.

"What about any other commands?"

"I am bound by any other commands, whether they take place in a work or private environment."

"Like what?" Dean snapped. He knew he was over reacting but his heart was in overdrive.

"Anything you desire."

Dean wasn't sure what the tiny thrill that raced through him meant. It did however create more questions than answers. Hell, he couldn't decide if his racing heart was the damned PTSD or something else.

Under different circumstances the idea of having someone willingly volunteer to obey all of his commands was oddly exciting, but coming from a robot it made him feel sick. It was the enemy. It made him angry. Angry at the robot, angry at Sam for being the reason he waited so long hell angry at his dick for clouding his judgement.

This entire situation was more than he could handle he just wanted the damn machine to go away. Obviously he just needed to get laid. His hormones were on edge that was why he found the robot attractive and was having trouble not thinking about what Benny looked like in the shower or about the blood soaked battlefield where he left his peace behind.

"Enough twenty questions we need to get back to work." Dean nearly growled frustrated. He shot Benny a glance who nodded, but there was a worried expression on his face. Obviously he was slipping if Benny could see through the cracks.

Dean strode quickly out of the room at the moment he didn't give a damn that the robot wasn't following him.

If it was to be believed which was a big if really it couldn't hurt anyone, but right now he didn't really care.

He really wanted a drink and maybe a cigarette, a nasty habit he picked up in the army.

Not really caring about the repercussion he pushed his way out the fire door. The alarms sounded as he climbed out onto the fire escape. He leaned as casually as he could against the railing. Cigarette in hand, curling his hand around the keep the wind from snuffing his light, he lit it clumsily with shaking hands He was not sure why this situation with the robot had him so shaken up. After few moments the alarms stopped but he didn't care.

He didn't know what bothered him if it was the memories of the war that caused anxiety to thrum inside him or if it was the thought that attraction to men would be discovered. He thought that he got over the shit his dad put him years ago. The shame that swirled in his gut only served to further piss him off. The robot was too human. It didn't look like the enemy and that scared him. He had been out of the army for maybe four years now and every night he woke up soaked in of the men who weren't really real that he killed and now they looked even more like humans. The DE-mon units bled, but not like humans, it was all surface and the texture wasn't right, it was thinner and flowed more like water than blood. Sometimes during the war, it felt like he was bathing in it. It was everywhere. Sometimes it felt like constant combat. He knew it was just the robot that was bringing back the anxiety of the war. He loved having his brother here. He truly did, but it brought back all the betrayal he felt, towards him. Cliff notes version of the last seven years. Dean went to purgatory, Sam hit a dog. He knew it wasn't fair to his brother to be angry at him for not joining up. Hell, he wasn't really even angry that Sammy was part of the CO movement. He was his brother, but it was hard. They never talked about his time in the war. Sammy never asked and Dean never volunteered.

Dean enlisted the day Sammy got his Stanford acceptance letter. Served his first term and signed on for a second and had just begun his second when he was discharged. It just took him a year to notice. Officially his discharge was honorable, he had been involuntarily discharged due to a Reduction in Force. He'd been fired from the goddamned military. Honestly, it might have been funny, but living it first hand it wasn't. Before he got his discharge papers he Benny and a couple other guys from their unit had been fucking around picking off stragglers around the outer perimeter of the demilitarized zone when they were ambushed. Technically, he was MIA for ten months, but since he was no longer in the military he was just a civilian casualty. He thought of her. A weird pain seized his heart. He pushed it away. He wouldn't think about that. Not now. If he was being honest, not ever. He took a drag on his cigarette only to realize that he burnt through it while he had been lost in thought. Pissed that he wasted it, he angrily lit up another taking calming drag. Leaning back on the railing, he breathed in the heavenly nicotine his head lolled back, eyes closed as he thought, Maybe Ellen wouldn't give him too much shit if he took a sick day. He was almost back to his causal level of disinterest when he heard the footsteps.

Castiel watched the human leave perplexed. While his sensors were not fully calibrated he knew that his human was experiencing a raised level of anxiety.

His eyes swung to the second human Benny Lafitte.

"Explain." He ordered him. He was programed to be civil to all humans, but his priority was his human.

The man simply chuckled to himself. " You done pissed him off." He muttered to himself shaking his head. " You have no idea what holy hell you have unleashed on yourself robot."

He said still laughing and shaking his head. "Android." Castiel answered absently. The man shrugged as if they meant the same thing to him. Castiel made a note to further evaluate this human's mental stability.

For the moment he needed to find his human. While he was fine with not immediately initiating work there were still details that were required.

The human was not hard to locate. He leaned idly back against the railing with his eyes closed. He would be considered classically handsome by humans. With a straight jaw dusted with a growth of blonde whiskers, hard eyes, and yet paradoxically soft looking lips. Cigarette in hand the smoke curling around him. Castiel studied the human. There was something ineffable about him. A sublime fearful symmetry fearful symmetry fearful symmetryfearful symmetry, he was a predator. He was rugged with lines of lean muscle and yet his records indicated that he was his younger brother's primary caregiver as a child. His records did not contain the reason for his discharge, but there was no discernable medical condition that he could see from a visual examination.

"If you don't have scotch I don't care who the fuck you are, you're dead to me."

"Technically I was never alive." Castiel replied. Dean stiffened opened his eyes. The emotion there was easy to read. Rage. Then apathy. The human hated him and part of Castiel regretted whatever he had done to cause that emotion.

"You have to do whatever I say, right?" he asked listlessly, leaning back, apparently ignoring his presence.

"Yes." He responded, still studying his human. He seemed to have settled. His pulse was returning to a more natural rhythm. He was lazily taking drags on his cigarette as he spoke.

"There is a bottle of scotch in my locker, bring me a glass." He ordered. Castiel turned to leave. "On second thought bring me the bottle."

Castiel hesitated, he wasn't an automaton not in the strictest sense. Where he was bound by only a pre programed set of instructions. He wasn't human, but he was an artificial intelligence. A synthetic life form that was self-aware, sapient, sentient, and anatomically fully functional his only limitations were set by the human in front of him and the primary programing towards harming humans.

While enabling an alcoholic was not within his parameters of present no harm to humans, he was uncomfortable with the notion. However, direct commands could not be ignored, unless they posed an immediate danger to a human. Secondarily, if a command posed a threat to himself and if disregarding the command did not directly break the first rule of harming no human then he could disobey.

He easily located the locker room from the blueprints provided as his reference material. It took a few more moments to discern which locked hollow was Dean's locker. Opening the lock took two minutes before he was able to try every combination. The bottle held only a quarter of its original volume. A small empty glass cup rested next to it. Castiel grabbed both before returning to his master.

Dean downed the first gulp not really caring that the robot was still staring at him expectantly.

"What?" he asked feeling the comforting numbness wrap over him. He leaned into it like a warm cloak.

"There are details I must finalize." It responded. It sounded almost sorry. "And you need me to help you?" he guessed he thought about lighting another cigarette, but thought better of it, they cost to much as it was and he was already reaching his limit. He had cut down to a quarter of a pack a day since Sammy was here he was trying to quit, but there was only so much he was capable of and so far that wasn't one of them. Instead, he just poured himself the rest of the scotch.

"Ok, shoot."

" I will need time alone with you to finish my bio-calibrations."

Dean was not looking forward to that, but he knew that was what was required. It came with the packet Ellen gave him when he agreed to take this farce of a job. The Ångel model required a bio-lock on its master to assure that only their orders would be carried out.

"Yeah, whatever." He agreed to keep the dog and pony show on the road.

"Also, I require training." Dean really didn't want to get into what that meant right now so rather than unpack all the connotations he just nodded rolling is hand gesturing for it to continue.

"I need lodgings." It informed him. "Find a cozy box in the corner and power down for the night." Dean responded flippantly. Sipping on his drink.

A look almost like hurt crossed the machine's face.

"That is insufficient, I require adequate shelter, a place to sleep and food to enable my organic components."

This surprised Dean. He just sort of assumed that the robot just bent over at night and plugged itself up to an electrical outlet.

"What's going on here?" Ellen asked, pushing her way through the door. She shot him a dirty look pointing out the scotch with an inquisitive brow. "It's medicinal." He insisted. " Medicinal my ass." She muttered to herself, but didn't chastise him further.

"Looks like you're getting a roommate." Dean murmured talking to Ellen she raised a brow at him in disbelief

"Honey, if you think that thing is coming home with me, you're stupider than you look. You know the roadhouse as a strict humans only policy."

"It needs shelter." Dean protested. She made him in charge of it, but now she wasn't letting him do his job.

He wasn't sure where else to put the thing up at,but he didn't like the way Ellen was lookng a him.

"From what I recall in your application you have your own place." Ellen stated leadingly "Oh no its not coming home with me either besides I've already got my brother crashing on my couch I don't need a robot there too."

"I seem to recall your brother being a staunch CO supporter, I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing his space with it."

A twinge of something with through him at the reminder that his brother probably would be bosom buddies with his enemy.

She looked at the robot then back at him. " Looks like you're getting a roommate." Dean knew there was a stunned expression on his face but he couldn't change it.

"I hope you know how to cook, he likes bacon." She laughed talking to the robot it too seemed stunned.

Dean just clenched his teeth and kept his mouth shut, he owed Ellen for more than just giving him a job. He owed her for what happened to Jo,

"Great." He muttered bitterly. Sam was gonna have a field day. He downed the rest of his drink. He was pleasantly warm. Ellen was frowning at him.

"How many of those have you had?" she demanded, "One,Three," Dean and the robot replied together. Dean glared at the machine. "Now you answer other people." he complained glaring at it. It didn't look ashamed in the slightest. If anything, it looked vaguely self-satisfied.

Ellen shook her head "Go home Dean, and don't bother coming back till you're sober." Dean grinned good-naturedly "See you tomorrow Ellen." She narrowed her eyes, but didn't add anything. She knew what kind of situation she was putting him and was willing to give him some leeway. There wasn't a lot of people that he was close to but Ellen was basically family and as much as he didn't want this complication in his life he owed her that much.

He glanced over at the robot who was admittedly looking a little lost. "Looks likes you're bunking with me.