"Are you still staring at that damn thing?" Cas looked up from where he sat, glowering at the angel tablet as if the heat of his stare could make it decipherable. He stared at Dean for a moment before finally coming to the present.

"I have to reverse Metatron's spell and since you let our prophet go"-his voice grew harsher- "I'll have to try to read this myself." Dean decided to ignore Cas' jab at his failings and instead address the problem.

"Well you're not gonna suddenly gain the magical ability to read it by just sitting there and staring at it." Cas looked at Dean as if waiting for him to offer a better solution.

"I have an idea," Dean sat down next to Cas and grabbed Sam's laptop. "Why don't we do some hunting?"

"No." Cas' abruptness threw Dean off guard. He laughed it off and began a search for strange happenings anywhere in the US.

"Come on," he said, "We make a great team. Think about the last gig we did."

"I stayed in the car the whole time." Dean's face fell as he realized this was true.

"Yeah but you said you want to be a hunter."

"And you said I sucked."

"No," Dean argued before remembering the truth, "I said there was room for improvement. Whaddya say we hone those skills?"

"Dean, I'm completely human, I've no power whatsoever."

"So?"

"So I'll be of little use to you and of more use trying to fix what I broke." He turned back to the tablet and Dean sighed.

"Alright," he said, perking up, "I've got a better idea." Cas leaned over as he pulled up an online dating site.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting you a date."

"Dean," Cas sounded disgusted, "The last time you tried to 'hook me up' with someone it didn't turn out well." Dean chuckled as he thought back to Cas' experience at the brothel.

"This is different," Dean assured him, "This is a date, you know dinner, holding hands, whole nine yards and if you get a little something else out of it," Dean shrugged, "Well what happens happens. Ya know what I'm sayin'?"

"I think so." Dean rolled his eyes and clicked register on the screen.

"Let's start with a name," he looked at Cas, "Now we obviously can't call you Castiel so think of a name off the top of your head."

"Steve," Cas nodded. Dean stared at him for a second then shrugged and typed Steve into the computer.

"Alright Steve now we need a last name." Cas looked blank. Dean nodded and then an idea struck him and he sprung up. Grabbing the nearest book off the shelf he tossed it to Cas. "Find the first last name you can find in there and it's yours." Cas flipped through a few pages before looking up.

"de Yolton," he said. Dean shook his head and grabbed the book from Cas' hand.

"What we need is a more modern last name." He scanned the shelves. "Aha! This looks more recent." He threw the book to Cas, who opened it.

"Sanders," he looked at Dean who ripped the book from his hands with a satisfied nod.

"Alright, Steve Sanders," Dean said as he sat back down at his computer, "How old are you?"

"I've lost count of all the years I've lived," answered Cas.

"No, Cas, how old is Steve Sanders?" Cas shrugged, "We'll go with 35." Dean clicked to the next page. "What are some things you enjoy?"

"I do enjoy watching humanity." Dean stared at Cas.

"Okay," he said, "That's a little creepy. What is something you like watching them do?"

"Simply talking or laughing." Dean shook his head.

"Where's someplace you like to watch them? How about the park?"

"Yes," Cas smiled and nodded, "Children are the most fun to watch with their innocence and joy."

"Alright," said Dean, "How about we say you like picnics in the park? After all you like the park and…food." Cas nodded.

"What else?"

"I enjoy spending time with you and…" Cas stopped and stared at Dean. Dean smiled and ignored the unsaid.

"What do you like to do with us?"

"When we talk."

"How about 'having beers with friends?" Dean nodded proudly at his work. "Alright, one more thing that makes you seem smart or at least culturally knowledgeable. Do you like to watch TV or read anything?"

"The only thing I've read is this damn tablet." Dean sighed.

"I've got it," he brightened up, "How about I enjoy discovering and learning old languages? I'm so good at this." Cas nodded as they entered his profile onto the site.

"Now all we need is a picture." Dean looked at Cas. "This is gonna be fun," he muttered.

After several attempts at a good picture, they finally got one which Dean had deemed presentable. They uploaded it to his profile and then sat back and sipped their beers.

"What is the common customs for dating?" Dean shrugged.

"Dinner, talking, a movie maybe, maybe a little something more," Dean winked.

"And what is the customary attire?" Cas asked, eyebrows drawn. Dean surveyed Cas' hoody and baggy pants.

"Oh," Dean said, "Well not that. I've got it. Why don't you do some shopping? Then you'll have something more to wear than just..." Dean had jumped up and was rummaging through his wallet for some cash when he stopped, "Have you worn the same thing the whole time you were here?"

"I've borrowed a few tshirts of yours but, yes, the hoody is the same."

"Well you can keep those." Dean grabbed a wad of cash, "Here take this, do some shopping." He began pushing Cas out the door. "Something not to casual and not to classy. If you need help ask someone there. The people with nametags can help you don't ask anyone else. Just ask them what they think would look nice on a date. Got it? Good. Bye." Dean slammed the door in a confused Cas' face and hurried back down the stairs. The truth was he'd been looking for a reason to get Cas out of the bunker. There was something he needed to do.

"Sam," he called, "Sammy if you're there just give me some sort of sign." He waited. No answer. He waited longer breathing as heavily as he could just in case. Nothing. With one last heavy puff, he wandered into the kitchen for a snack. When he came back, someone had pulled up a Word document on the laptop and it read: Cas, on a date?

"Sammy?" Dean nearly dropped his bag of chips.

"Dean." It was like a flickery whisper behind him. He spun to see a transparent Sam standing before him.

"Sam," he started towards his brother for a hug. Sam flickered out and disappeared. "Sammy?"

"Dean." He whirled back around. "Sorry I…being a ghost is hard. I have to concentrate to keep this image and…you know what would happen if we hugged." Dean knew. There was no body to embrace.

"Dean. You have to burn my body." Dean looked up at his little brother.

"No," his voice was husky, "I can't."

"Dean."

"Sammy, no. I already watched you die once. I can't do it again."

"Then what are you gonna do?"

"I don't know. Why does everyone expect me to have the answer?"

"I heard what you said to Charlie. I just…I want you to know this was my choice." Dean shook his head unable to speak through the tears. He'd thought he was done with those. "Dean…" Sam flickered out and Dean sat down at the computer with his head in his hands.