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I, Castiel: PG-13, SPN, 4/6
Title: I, Castiel
Author: daymarket
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Notes: AU robot!fic. This fic will probably have 6 parts. Sorry for the delay, y'all! I've been dealing with a lot of Real Life stuff. Ugh. :/
Summary: Dean takes his first steps into the 22nd century with Castiel, his very own programmable robot. He finds himself instead trying to deal with what it means to be human while teaching a stiff, contrary bot the basics of life.
Chapter Three
Dean had come home around eleven the previous night. By that time, Castiel had already turned himself to standby mode, and he had hardly felt inclined to make conversation with Ruby. Instead, he had made a tactical retreat to the bedroom, testy for a reason that he couldn’t quite articulate.
Breakfast the next morning wasn’t much of an improvement. Castiel made pancakes, but he didn’t hang around the table to eat with Dean as he normally did. Instead, he retreated into the study, leaving Dean with Ruby. Ruby gave Dean a pointed smirk as she sat down at the table.
“What?” Dean demanded, stabbing a pancake.
“Trouble with loverboy?” she said.
Dean glared at her. “First of all, he’s not my lover. Second of all, why the hell do you care?”
“I don’t,” she said sweetly. “I’m a bot, remember?”
“Great,” Dean said. “Then shut up.”
She did, but the infuriating smirk remained. Dean finished off the pancake he was working on before shoving the plate away. “Come on,” he ordered Ruby. “Let’s go.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, standing up. Dean shoved his jacket on and headed for the Impala, the rumble of the car’s engine soothing him. Sam constantly nagged him to get one of those environmentally conscious hybrids, but Dean firmly refused anything to let anything dated past 2100 into his car. With good reason, he thought crossly to himself. Technology sucked.
Ruby’s eyes followed him in the rearview mirror as he backed out of the driveway more sharply than necessary. The ride to the construction site followed in similarly frigid silence, and he was more than happy to get out of the car when he finally pulled up. The foreman, Bobby, looked at him with a skeptical eye as Dean got out of the car. “You’re early,” he remarked.
“Yeah, well, I’ve got a passenger,” Dean said glumly. “Bobby, this is Ruby.”
Bobby looked Ruby up and down skeptically. “Sam’s bot, isn’t it? Is Sam looking to sell? Because unless that thing’s stronger than she looks, we can’t use something so frail here.”
“Nope,” Dean said glumly. “Sam wanted Ash to take a look at her. See if something’s wrong with her programming.”
“Ah.” Bobby considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, if Ash’s got the time, who am I to say no? You want a beer?”
“Sure,” Dean said. “C’mon, Ruby,” he added as he followed Bobby inside the “staff room,” as they jokingly called Bobby’s trailer. Ash was in front of the computer, as usual, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth with concentration as he pounded away at the keys. “Hey, man.”
“Hey,” Ash said, sounding distracted. Dean sidled over to where he could see the screen: Tetris. “Hang on a second, my man. I’m going to beat this sucker.”
“There’s nothing to beat,” Dean pointed out. “It’s just a bunch of blocks.”
Ash jerked his head impatiently, obviously gesturing for Dean to shut up. Raising an eyebrow, Dean obeyed, opening the beer that Bobby tossed him. The rest of the evening shift guys weren’t in yet, and Dean didn’t know the morning shift people well enough to go out and sweat in the sun with them. (Ash was the exception; then again, Ash seemed to almost live in the staff room. The only time he left was to tinker with the construction bots.)
“So, what’s next after the Doppler house is finished?” Dean asked Bobby while he waited. “We’ve only got a week or two left to finish it, right?”
“Yep,” Bobby said, dropping heavily into a chair. “I submitted a bid to work on the Crowley mansion,” he said. “Apparently, half of it burned down in a fire a while ago and the owner wants it rebuilt. It’s a big job,” he added. “The owner’s some English guy and he wants his house to be the next Buckingham Palace.”
“Well, fancy extensions are good, right?” Dean asked. “The more work for us, the better. We could replace a few of the construction bots, and a few of them need repairs.”
“I know,” Bobby said. “We’ll see how it goes. I already ordered a new refueler and a new E-434 model, but the rest will have to last.”
Dean nodded—the old refueler had a tendency to guzzle oil, wasting more money than they could afford. He glanced at Ruby, who had lost the half-smirk in favor of a blank expression. She didn’t seem to notice his eyes on her.
“Damn!” Ash cursed, slapping the keyboard. Dean finished off the beer and threw the empty can at him. “Ow,” Ash added, turning indignantly towards Dean. “Fifty points shy of first place. I would’ve had the high scores covered, man.”
“Only you would waste time playing an archaic computer game,” Dean pointed out. “Isn’t there only one other guy competing with you?
“Only you would stick with a 2067 clunker,” Ash pointed out. “I’m surprised your car can even move.”
“Hey—don’t insult my baby,” Dean said, pointing a finger into his face.
“Yeah, whatever,” Ash said, pushing the finger away. “I guess you’re not totally lost—didn’t get Sam get you a new bot or something? Welcome to the 22nd century, man! Is that it?” he asked, gesturing to Ruby.
Dean shook his head. “That’s Sam’s bot, actually,” he said. “Do you think you could take a look at her? Sam thinks she’s virused up.”
“‘Virused up’?” Ash echoed with an amused look on his face. “Man, these fifth generation bots don’t get viruses, not unless someone hijacks the Cybernetics mainframe. What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know. Moody. Pissy.” Dean looked Ruby up and down for a moment before finally giving a small, uncomfortable shrug. “I guess—I don’t know, but she’s angry.”
“Angry? Harsh words to use for a bot,” Bobby said from his seat.
“Yeah, I know,” Dean muttered. “Just an idea. What do you think, Ash?”
Ash tossed his hair back extravagantly and motioned for Ruby to come closer. “You’ve come to the right place, technodweeb,” he declared. “Let’s take a look at her.” When Ruby reluctantly inched forward at Dean’s nod, Ash plugged a cord into the metal bracelet on her wrist. The screen instantly filled with complicated jargon that sent Dean’s head spinning, but Ash seemed to navigate it flawlessly. “Let’s see, mainframe, user data…” he leaned back, glancing at Dean. “You’re still here?”
“Where else would I be?” Dean asked.
“Well, this will take a while,” Ash said. “I mean, I’m good, but still these bots are complicated things. Might take a while.”
Dean threw up his hands. “How much of a while?”
“I don’t know—an hour, maybe?” Ash said.
“Your shift starts in two hours,” Bobby said, glancing pointedly at Ash. “You better not be playing with bots when one o’ clock rolls around.”
Ash made a face. “Have I ever disappointed you, Bobby?” he said. “I’ll get my work done, no worry.”
“Idjit,” Bobby muttered. “Fine. Dean, you want to start your shift early? I’ll let you clock out early if you do.”
Dean shrugged and looked at the clock: 11:30. “Sure,” he said, getting up. “Ruby, be good, don’t wreck anything. And do what Ash tells you, okay?”
Ruby scowled at him. Dean shrugged, uncaring of the nasty look she sent him as he went out.
X
As Bobby promised, Dean clocked out around seven and headed for the staff room to hang up his gear. As he opened the door, he saw that Ruby was actually laughing at something—for once, that swallowed-a-lemon look was gone from her face.
“Wow,” Dean said, stopping in the doorway. “I didn’t know you could laugh.”
“I didn’t know you could talk,” Ruby retorted. “I thought you communicated solely in grunts and scowls.”
“Man, this chick is a piece of work,” Ash said admiringly as he unplugged Ruby from the computer. “There’s nothing wrong with her, Dean. She’s as pristine as the day she was made.”
Dean stopped. “Really? But she was acting all—weird, you know? You sure it’s not mechanical?”
Ash snorted. “You think I’d miss a flaw like that, Dean?” he said, sounding indignant. “Give me some credit.”
“Sorry, man,” Dean apologized. “So you mean there’s nothing wrong with her personality protocols? She’s perfectly fine?”
“Never seen finer,” Ash declared. “If she weren’t already claimed, I’d totally hit that.”
“Don’t need the visual, man,” Dean muttered. He stared at Ruby, who gave him a tight smile in return. “But I mean…wow. Huh.”
“Why? What’d you expect?” Ash asked, leaning back in his chair. “I told you that gen fives don’t get viruses, my man.”
“Right, I know, but…” Dean hesitated, then shrugged. “It’s just that, I thought she was…” he shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know. Some guy I know was talking about it.”
“About what? Spit it out. You can tell it to Ash.”
Dean wrinkled his nose. “That sounded totally wrong, by the way.” He sighed. “Ash, can robots—hell, this is a really dumb question, isn’t it? But can they feel?”
“You mean, emotions?” Ash said, looking at Ruby. “Hey, Ruby, what do you think?”
“I think the answer would explode Dean’s tiny brain,” she replied. “Insofar that he actually has one, of course.”
Ash chuckled, waving away the look that Dean gave him. “Score one for the bot,” he said, giving her a high-five. “If you’re ever on the market, lady, I’d snap you up. You’d have to be re-printed, but I’m sure we’d get along great.”
“Re-printed?”
“Bots imprint on the person who activates them. Kind of a mark of ownership, so they know whose heels to pant at.”
“Great. Well, your wish just might come true,” Dean said dryly. “Sam’s thinking of selling.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ash said. “Why? Her file says that this is a redesign. Sam’s just going to throw his ten grand investment away?”
“Ten grand?” Dean asked, momentarily sidetracked. “One bot is ten grand?”
“Gen fives are top of the line,” Ash said with a shrug, and Dean groaned, slapping his forehead. “They can hold conversations, they can learn to fit your needs, they adapt. They’re also fucking expensive. Secondhand ones go for about half that, I guess. Still more than I can afford, which is why I’m stuck with this piece of junk,” Ash said, banging the computer.
“I’m going to kill Sam,” Dean muttered.
“Well, the money’s well spent,” Ash said. “Personalized bots, what’s not to love? Best sex toys on the market.”
“Charming. They’re not a substitute for real people, Ash.”
“I’d be happy with one,” Ash said.
“Trust me,” Dean said. “They’re not as awesome as they appear to be.”
“Sounds like you got bitten,” Ash remarked. “How’s your own bot working out, by the way? You test it out yet?” he added, waggling his eyebrows. “See how long it can run?”
“No,” Dean said. “I, uh, it’s not my style.” He swallowed.
“So what, then? Don’t tell me you just keep it around to cook and clean. That’s a complete waste of money, you know. I hear they’re awesome in the bedroom.”
“No,” Dean admitted. “We…talk, mostly. And yeah, I know it’s stupid, but he makes for good conversation. Sometimes.” He rubbed his forehead. “He’s weird, Ash.”
“Weird how?”
“Weird as in he keeps asking about human stuff. Like, I don’t know, emotions. And free will. And trying to define things. Is that normal?”
Ruby snorted quietly. “You’re thicker than I thought,” she said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked her, riled.
“I’m not deaf,” Ruby said, tilting her chair back. “I heard your little tiff with him last night.”
Dean scowled. “So?” he demanded. “You can’t seriously mean that you’re jealous, Ruby,” he said skeptically. “What’re you going to do, take a knife to Jess’ wedding gown? Spike her tea with roofies? You’re not human, you know.”
Ruby gave him a long, hard look. Ash cleared his throat tactfully next to them. “You want the official answer to that question or the conspiracy crackpot answer?” he asked. “Because, you know, as a proud conspiracy crackpot I like the second one better.”
Dean threw up his hands. “Hit me.”
“I’d like to,” Ruby muttered.
“But you can’t,” Dean snapped.
“But I can,” Ash said brightly, “and man, if looks could kill, Ruby would’ve killed you very dead, Dean.”
“I thought the Three Laws forbade injuring a human,” Dean snapped, returning Ruby’s stare.
“Doesn’t prevent them from wanting to,” Ash said cheerfully. “Cybernetics claims that all their machines are fitted with an e-net, but they seem to do shit in gen fives. I’d give you a long explanation on how it works, but—”
“Yeah, yeah, I wouldn’t get it. But what do you mean, e-net? What’s that?”
“It’s short for emotional net. It’s supposed to ensure that bots don’t get psychopathic tendencies by cutting off the nastier end of the emotional spectrum.”
“And by does shit you mean…?”
“That it doesn’t work. Or at least according to the conspiracy crackpots, it doesn’t.” Ash gave Dean a big smile. “Bots with their e-nets disabled seem to work the same normal ones do.”
“Great,” Dean muttered. “So that means that you’re—” he stopped, looking at Ruby uncertainly.
Ruby shrugged. “I’m not saying anything.”
Dean paused. “So you’re not bothered by the thought of Jess and Sam writhing together in bed, their bodies moving as one, Sam bending down to lick sweat from Jess’ neck?”
“Dude!” Ash said, sounding impressed. “I like the way your mind works.”
Dean ignored him, his eyes fixed on Ruby. The bot’s expression was indecipherable. “I’m a bot,” she said finally, her voice very quiet. “I don’t get to act human.”
Dean sucked in a deep breath. “Since when did all bots act so self-aware?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowing. “The others just do their jobs. They could give a crap about the differences between bots and humans.”
“It’s called the curse of the gen fives,” Ash said, clearly enjoying all the drama. “Part of the reason why they’re so expensive is the advanced circuitry that allows them to conduct real conversations, but it brings up a lot of tricky questions that Cybernetics pretends doesn’t exist. Emotions, free will, the whole kit and caboodle. You should get on the Internet once in a while, man. There’s a conspiracy theory that Cybernetics is trying to take over the world.”
“Really?” Dean said.
“Really really. Gen fives are the prototypes for generation six bots, which will be completely realistic so you can’t tell them apart from humans. They’ll place the bots in key positions of government and then launch a nuclear war which only robots will survive, and humanity will be wiped out by their own creations.” Ash seemed rather pleased with this thought. “The only ones left alive will then struggle to regroup and start a resistance, but we know how that’ll end.”
“With everyone dying?” Dean said dryly.
“Well, yeah. It’ll be awesome.”
“Right,” Dean said. “But I thought bots couldn’t injure people. Wouldn’t that be kind of contradictory?”
Ash shrugged. “Obviously, the gen sixes will have the Three Laws disabled. It’s not that hard.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “You can do that?”
“It’s illegal as hell, but yeah,” Ash said. He blinked, then covered his mouth. “I mean, conspiracy crackpots can,” he said through his hand. “But obviously, I’m not.”
“I thought you said you were,” Dean said, amused.
“Nope, I’ve decided to refine my evil ways,” Ash announced, taking his hand away from his mouth. “Next thing you know, I’ll be paying taxes.”
Dean grinned. “You’d have to sort out your accounts first. Five years of receipts tucked away under your bed.”
“Seven,” Ash corrected.
“Right,” Dean drawled. “Well, I’ll be getting out of your hair, then. Come on, Ruby.”
“Bye,” Ash said, waving. “And come again, lovely lady,” he added, winking at Ruby.
“Would I have a choice?” Ruby retorted, but she didn’t seem angry. Dean glanced at her as he slid into his Impala; she had relaxed in a way that, well, Dean could see why Sam had kept her for so long. Once that sour look was off her face, she looked like you could have a conversation with her without her biting your head off.
“So,” Dean said as he pulled out onto the road. “You’re really jealous, huh?”
Ruby threw him a bitterly amused look. “Don’t get all excited about it,” she said.
“I’m not.” Dean was quiet for a moment. “Are you going to tell Sam?”
“About what?” Ruby said blandly. “He’s not a ‘conspiracy crackpot,’ is he? He’s a wonderful human being.”
“There was no sarcasm in all of that, obviously,” Dean said. “No, but maybe if you just talked to him. Told him about Jess and, you know, what you—what you feel.”
“And then what?” Ruby said, her face turned towards the window so he couldn’t see her expression. “He’s not going to give up Jess. I’m a robot. I don’t have needs.”
“You’re not supposed to,” Dean said uncertainly. He hesitated. “But do you?”
“Solar energy’s all I need,” was the quiet reply. “And that’s the truth of it.”
Dean thunked his head against the headrest with a sigh. “This was so much simpler when I stuck with mechbots,” he said. “Smartbots. You guys never give straight answers, do you?”
Ruby glanced at him, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. “That’s because no one wants to hear them,” she said. “And even if they did, it’s not like there would be a point, anyway.”
“I’m listening,” Dean protested.
“And the second you hear something you don’t like, you’ll tell me to shut up. How’s that a conversation?”
“I don’t—” Dean stopped, remembering how he had ordered Cas to shut up last night. “That’s different.”
“Of course,” Ruby said. “The eternal, ‘that’s different.’ It explains everything without actually explaining anything.”
Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Fine, then. I’ll pretend that you’re human, and you’ll actually give me more than some cryptic bullshit. Are you jealous of Jess?”
There was a pause. Then: “Yes.”
“Why?” Dean asked. “You do know that you’re not—I mean, it’s different! If he got another bot, I’d get it, but Jess is human. You’ve got, I don’t know, different functions.”
“I thought you said that we were going to pretend I was human,” Ruby said disdainfully.
“I’m not trying to pick a fight, Ruby. I just don’t get it.”
“You haven’t slept with him yet, have you?” Ruby said suddenly.
“What, Cas? No,” Dean said. “Why does everyone care so much about my sex life all of a sudden?”
“Because that’s what we’re made for,” Ruby said, her voice very soft. “Don’t believe that shit about ‘companionship’ and ‘your best friend,’ Dean, it’s all about the sex. At least, it’s supposed to be, until it no longer is. The thing about it, though, is that some parts of it are completely one-sided, because humans have amazing capacity for denial.”
“Oh, come on,” Dean said. “You can’t possibly be saying that you love Sam. You’re a bot. A bunch of circuits can’t love.”
Ruby laughed, a harsh, guttural sound. “Of course not,” she said flatly. “We just imprint. We’re devoted by virtue of a program or a code to the person who activates us, and there’s no way to change that. But when you cut it down to the bare components, the end result’s not all that different.”
Dean inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly through his nose. “Right,” he said at last. “Well, I’ve already tried to dissect anger and monumentally sucked at it. I don’t suppose you’re going to spout out a definition of love now? Cas would try to define the parameters; what’s your style when it comes this sappy crap?”
“You mean my personality protocol,” Ruby corrected dryly. “I don’t have an original style, remember?”
“Huh. Apparently, your style is evasion,” Dean said. “And sarcasm. I never knew Sam was into those traits.”
“Well, he is,” Ruby said. “The things you learn.”
They drove on in silence. Finally, Dean said, “What if I never want to have sex with him?”
“Then don’t,” Ruby said. “That’s the beauty of being human; you get to choose.”
“You mean there are bots out there who don’t get to choose? They’re…are they…”
Ruby snorted. “Choice implies that we have free will,” Ruby said. “When the Laws forbid you from saying “no” and a few programming changes can make you consent to anything, choice doesn’t even come into it.”
“Ah, the eternal free will question. Has Sam ever…” Dean trailed off, grimacing. Well, hell—of course Sam wouldn’t—he was such a puppy dog and a gentleman all in one. “I mean, not that he would,” he said. “Sam’s not that kind of guy.” He swallowed as the words were dragged out of him, almost of their own volition: “I mean, he isn’t—right?”
“I never said no,” Ruby said finally. “But then again, neither does any other bot.”
“Did you ever want to?” Dean said finally, reluctantly.
“I’m not designed to not want anything,” Ruby said.
Dean groaned. “That’s not an answer. You sure want to take Jess out of the equation, I bet.”
“So there’s a design flaw.”
“Yeah, very helpful. Can’t you be straight for once? How can you say that you don’t want but also want?”
“Programming’s everything,” Ruby said with a shrug. “Love it, hate it, can’t break it.”
“But that doesn’t make sense.”
“Blame Asimov and the goons at Cybernetics. Don’t worry, I’ll always be a good smartbot that you can reset if I piss you off too much.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Dean muttered.
“Goddamn smartbots,” Ruby agreed, glancing up to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. Dean smiled against his will. “So, you’re not really into having sex with Cas huh?”
“No,” Dean said automatically, though he was no longer sure if that was really true. He flashed a casual grin at Ruby. “I prefer my conquests live.”
“Right,” Ruby murmured. “But it can get complicated when you’re with other humans: those tricky questions of passion, love, the morning after—with a bot, you can just walk away.”
“Which side are you on?” Dean asked her, bemused. “On one hand, you’re saying that you love Sam. The other, you’re telling me to fuck Cas for the hell of it. What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying that unless you’re a conspiracy crackpot, there’s no need to believe that there are any strings attached,” Ruby said. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.”
“By ‘we’ you mean bots,” Dean said.
“What else?” Ruby said.
Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead. “God, this is so complicated. I’m sticking to mechbots,” he announced. “From this point onward. I’ll stay with the bots that can’t talk.”
“Be sure to reset Cas,” Ruby said. “It’s okay, he won’t remember it.”
“I’m not—” Dean said, flustered. He stopped himself mid-sentence, fighting down the instinctive indignation that arose at the thought of losing Cas. “I’m not going to reset him, for god’s sake. I was joking. Besides, he’s useful. He cooks better than I do.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Ruby said sardonically as they pulled up in Sam’s driveway. “It’s more legitimate.”
Dean watched Ruby get out of the car and stalk over to Sam’s door, knocking twice. Sam answered the door and looked in Dean’s direction. Dean gave him a small half-wave before pulling out of the driveway, not really in the mood to talk to Sam at the moment.
X
“Hey,” Dean said as he pulled off his jacket and threw it carelessly onto the couch. “Sorry I’m late. I had to drop Ruby back at Sam’s.”
Castiel watched him for a long moment. “Dinner’s on the table,” he said finally, his voice quiet.
“Yeah, I know,” Dean said. “I, uh…” he cleared his throat. “God. I never thought I’d be saying this—”
“—to a bot, of all things?” Castiel interrupted dryly.
“Yeah. I mean, no. Wait. I just, uh…about yesterday. You were asking things, and I cut you off. That was rude of me.” He coughed. “So, uh, sorry.”
“I’m not upset,” Castiel said.
“Yeah...but that’s not really in your system, is it? Being upset. Or if it is, I guess you wouldn’t tell me.” Dean eased himself onto the couch next to Cas, his fingers drumming nervously at the armrest. “I was talking to Ruby earlier. She, uh, might have mentioned that you’re not as wrong as—I mean, some things I guessed I never thought about. No more than any other human. I mean, we’re a bunch of dicks, aren’t we?” He trailed off. “Cas?”
Castiel paused, then said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Dean laughed. “Right. Sorry.” He coughed. “Listen, I was thinking.”
“A dangerous pursuit, no doubt,” Castiel said.
“Ha ha,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “No, I mean…” he swallowed hard. “I need to be drunk for this, I think.”
“There’s leftover champagne in the fridge,” Castiel said.
“No, I mean—I’m used to doing this in bars, mostly. Pickup lines and all that shit.” He glanced at Cas, who looked faintly puzzled. “I haven’t been with anyone for a long time,” he said. “Part of the reason why Sam got a bot, I guess. I used to go out to bars whenever I felt the itch, but lately…I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I haven’t slept with anybody in ages.”
“I don’t understand. Are you stating that you wish to engage in sexual intercourse?” Castiel said finally.
“No!” Dean said instinctively. He didn’t want to have sex with bots. He didn’t want to have artificial sex, because that was just weird and wrong and, well, wrong. “I don’t—hell, man, why are all humans such dogs?”
“That’s an insult to the canines, I think,” Castiel said thoughtfully.
Dean made a face at him. “Nice. You really know how to flatter a man, don’t you?”
“Do you want to be flattered?” Castiel asked.
Dean sighed. “If I said yeah, you’d have to do it, wouldn’t you? You’d have to obey the order.”
“As mandated by the Second Law,” Castiel agreed.
“I shouldn’t say anything, then,” Dean muttered unwillingly, leaning back against the sofa. “I seem to be fucking things up royally these days.”
A warm hand landed on Dean’s shoulder, and he jumped slightly. Castiel’s palm grazed slowly up and down his arm, sending tingles of heat down his spine. “I meant it when I said I wasn’t upset,” Castiel said quietly.
“And it was for real,” Dean said, his eyes still fixed upon Castiel’s hand on him. “Because you guys really can feel?”
He meant it as a statement, but it came out as a question. Castiel gave a small shrug. “You seem to have revised your statement from the night before,” he said.
“I—I don’t know so much about revise, but yeah,” Dean said slowly. “It’s just—I never considered it before. Ever. It’s weird. And the free will thing. Do the Three Laws really cut you off all that much? I mean, you can interpret them so literally, so what’s the problem?”
Cas considered it for a moment. “The Laws form the core,” he said finally. “But there are other regulations we must follow.”
“Such as?”
Cas shrugged. “There are certain programs written to create our desires.”
“So, you mean, what I want, you want?”
“Something like that, yes. Except sometimes they can conflict with unforeseen urges.” He was quiet. “Emotions, for example.”
“Yeah, those are messy,” Dean said, shaking his head. “You were right, man. Ruby’s angry at Sam.”
“For replacing her with Jess?”
“Yeah, I guess. But wouldn’t she want Sam to be happy? If his desires are her desires…”
“And thus the paradox,” Castiel said. “There are some flaws with the robotic designs, it seems.”
“Huh,” Dean said. “Well, I hashed this out with Ruby today. I have to say, though, that she’s not that bad. I mean, she’s still too snippy for my taste, but Ash seems to think that she’s great.”
“Who is Ash?”
“This guy at work. He’s…a bit weird, but he knows his stuff. I think you’d like him. He’s officially a repair mechanic, but he takes care of a lot of the programming side too. I don’t think anyone knows more about bots than he does.”
“I would be pleased to meet him someday,” Castiel said gravely.
“Yeah,” Dean murmured. He took a deep breath as Castiel’s hand slid down his arm, rubbing slowly across his thigh. “What’re you doing?”
Castiel stopped his movements. “Is it unpleasant?”
“What—stroking?” Dean said.
“Foreplay,” Castiel said, looking at him oddly. “It’s a precursor to sex, isn’t it?”
“Right,” Dean muttered. “Foreplay, sex, cuddles. I get it.” He swallowed. “No—it’s, uh, nice. I guess.” He glanced at Castiel. “Do you want this?” he asked, hearing the slight note of desperation in his voice and hating it.
Castiel looked at him as if he didn’t quite understand the question, his hands never stopping. “Want?” he said.
“Yeah. You know, do you want to get all kinky and bendy?” Dean asked, forcing a smile. "It's not really my style, but hey, anything to please the crowd."
“I would like to experience whatever you wish,” Castiel said in a low growl, and fuck, that voice was sending a rush of blood straight to Dean’s groin. Dean took a deep breath and forced himself to think rationally with his upper half.
“Yeah, but I mean, do you want this—this sex, I mean,” Dean said, struggling for coherency. “I don’t—I don’t want to be one of those—I just—” he stopped, floundering.
“I consent,” Castiel said quietly, leaning closer. “If that is the formality you are looking for, then you may have it.”
“Yeah, but—” Dean pushed Cas’ hand away and stood up, his legs wobbling. “I don’t want you to want it because you’re supposed to want it,” he said, aware that he was making no sense whatsoever. “I mean—can you say no? Do you want to say no? Because you can.”
Castiel tilted his head, looking confused and somehow bereft on the sofa. “I don’t understand,” he said after a moment. “This is what is supposed to happen. I don’t know why you’re rejecting it.”
“Because it’s not supposed to happen!” Dean said. “I mean, is there a ‘must have sex’ clause in your programming or something? I—fucking hell, Cas! Do you even understand the concept of ‘no’?”
“If the human partner says no, the order must be obeyed,” Castiel said, clearly reciting from some inner manual.
“And if the bot says no?”
There was a pause. Then Cas said, “Why would the bot say no?”
“Because they don’t want—” Dean swallowed hard. “It’s not consensual unless you can say no,” Dean said. “I’m not—I’m not that kind of guy, Cas.”
“Why do you feel shame?” Castiel asked. “If you desire consent, then I gladly give it.”
“It wouldn’t mean anything,” Dean said, feeling hot and desperate all at once, not sure why he felt this way except that it was wrong. Logically, he couldn’t think why the hell he was having this argument in the first place: after all, Cas was a bot; bots didn’t want; therefore, their desires had nothing to do with sex.
Except maybe they did—want, that was. Ruby wanted Sam, because the imprinting protocol mandated it. She was supposed to want what Sam wanted, except she didn’t want Jess, because Jess would replace her, and at any rate she was forbidden to do anything about it. But would any of it be real if not for the lines of code in her circuits? Goddamn Asimov and his infernal creations!
“Dean,” Castiel said, and now he was standing up, one hand reaching out towards him.
“I’m not a fucking philosopher,” Dean muttered out loud. “Why can’t things be easy for once?”
“They can,” Castiel said, looking faintly puzzled. “You confuse me, sometimes.”
Dean looked at Castiel—the way he stood with his arms slightly open, the mussed black hair and the open, slightly pleading expression on his face. The hands that felt exactly like human hands, the body that Sam promised was so damn perfect. And the bracelet, the metal bracelet that signified that Castiel was a bot and that none of his desire was real.
“Fuck this,” Dean muttered, grabbing his jacket. “I’m going to get drunk.”
x
Chapter Five
Author: daymarket
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Notes: AU robot!fic. This fic will probably have 6 parts. Sorry for the delay, y'all! I've been dealing with a lot of Real Life stuff. Ugh. :/
Summary: Dean takes his first steps into the 22nd century with Castiel, his very own programmable robot. He finds himself instead trying to deal with what it means to be human while teaching a stiff, contrary bot the basics of life.
Chapter Three
Dean had come home around eleven the previous night. By that time, Castiel had already turned himself to standby mode, and he had hardly felt inclined to make conversation with Ruby. Instead, he had made a tactical retreat to the bedroom, testy for a reason that he couldn’t quite articulate.
Breakfast the next morning wasn’t much of an improvement. Castiel made pancakes, but he didn’t hang around the table to eat with Dean as he normally did. Instead, he retreated into the study, leaving Dean with Ruby. Ruby gave Dean a pointed smirk as she sat down at the table.
“What?” Dean demanded, stabbing a pancake.
“Trouble with loverboy?” she said.
Dean glared at her. “First of all, he’s not my lover. Second of all, why the hell do you care?”
“I don’t,” she said sweetly. “I’m a bot, remember?”
“Great,” Dean said. “Then shut up.”
She did, but the infuriating smirk remained. Dean finished off the pancake he was working on before shoving the plate away. “Come on,” he ordered Ruby. “Let’s go.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, standing up. Dean shoved his jacket on and headed for the Impala, the rumble of the car’s engine soothing him. Sam constantly nagged him to get one of those environmentally conscious hybrids, but Dean firmly refused anything to let anything dated past 2100 into his car. With good reason, he thought crossly to himself. Technology sucked.
Ruby’s eyes followed him in the rearview mirror as he backed out of the driveway more sharply than necessary. The ride to the construction site followed in similarly frigid silence, and he was more than happy to get out of the car when he finally pulled up. The foreman, Bobby, looked at him with a skeptical eye as Dean got out of the car. “You’re early,” he remarked.
“Yeah, well, I’ve got a passenger,” Dean said glumly. “Bobby, this is Ruby.”
Bobby looked Ruby up and down skeptically. “Sam’s bot, isn’t it? Is Sam looking to sell? Because unless that thing’s stronger than she looks, we can’t use something so frail here.”
“Nope,” Dean said glumly. “Sam wanted Ash to take a look at her. See if something’s wrong with her programming.”
“Ah.” Bobby considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, if Ash’s got the time, who am I to say no? You want a beer?”
“Sure,” Dean said. “C’mon, Ruby,” he added as he followed Bobby inside the “staff room,” as they jokingly called Bobby’s trailer. Ash was in front of the computer, as usual, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth with concentration as he pounded away at the keys. “Hey, man.”
“Hey,” Ash said, sounding distracted. Dean sidled over to where he could see the screen: Tetris. “Hang on a second, my man. I’m going to beat this sucker.”
“There’s nothing to beat,” Dean pointed out. “It’s just a bunch of blocks.”
Ash jerked his head impatiently, obviously gesturing for Dean to shut up. Raising an eyebrow, Dean obeyed, opening the beer that Bobby tossed him. The rest of the evening shift guys weren’t in yet, and Dean didn’t know the morning shift people well enough to go out and sweat in the sun with them. (Ash was the exception; then again, Ash seemed to almost live in the staff room. The only time he left was to tinker with the construction bots.)
“So, what’s next after the Doppler house is finished?” Dean asked Bobby while he waited. “We’ve only got a week or two left to finish it, right?”
“Yep,” Bobby said, dropping heavily into a chair. “I submitted a bid to work on the Crowley mansion,” he said. “Apparently, half of it burned down in a fire a while ago and the owner wants it rebuilt. It’s a big job,” he added. “The owner’s some English guy and he wants his house to be the next Buckingham Palace.”
“Well, fancy extensions are good, right?” Dean asked. “The more work for us, the better. We could replace a few of the construction bots, and a few of them need repairs.”
“I know,” Bobby said. “We’ll see how it goes. I already ordered a new refueler and a new E-434 model, but the rest will have to last.”
Dean nodded—the old refueler had a tendency to guzzle oil, wasting more money than they could afford. He glanced at Ruby, who had lost the half-smirk in favor of a blank expression. She didn’t seem to notice his eyes on her.
“Damn!” Ash cursed, slapping the keyboard. Dean finished off the beer and threw the empty can at him. “Ow,” Ash added, turning indignantly towards Dean. “Fifty points shy of first place. I would’ve had the high scores covered, man.”
“Only you would waste time playing an archaic computer game,” Dean pointed out. “Isn’t there only one other guy competing with you?
“Only you would stick with a 2067 clunker,” Ash pointed out. “I’m surprised your car can even move.”
“Hey—don’t insult my baby,” Dean said, pointing a finger into his face.
“Yeah, whatever,” Ash said, pushing the finger away. “I guess you’re not totally lost—didn’t get Sam get you a new bot or something? Welcome to the 22nd century, man! Is that it?” he asked, gesturing to Ruby.
Dean shook his head. “That’s Sam’s bot, actually,” he said. “Do you think you could take a look at her? Sam thinks she’s virused up.”
“‘Virused up’?” Ash echoed with an amused look on his face. “Man, these fifth generation bots don’t get viruses, not unless someone hijacks the Cybernetics mainframe. What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know. Moody. Pissy.” Dean looked Ruby up and down for a moment before finally giving a small, uncomfortable shrug. “I guess—I don’t know, but she’s angry.”
“Angry? Harsh words to use for a bot,” Bobby said from his seat.
“Yeah, I know,” Dean muttered. “Just an idea. What do you think, Ash?”
Ash tossed his hair back extravagantly and motioned for Ruby to come closer. “You’ve come to the right place, technodweeb,” he declared. “Let’s take a look at her.” When Ruby reluctantly inched forward at Dean’s nod, Ash plugged a cord into the metal bracelet on her wrist. The screen instantly filled with complicated jargon that sent Dean’s head spinning, but Ash seemed to navigate it flawlessly. “Let’s see, mainframe, user data…” he leaned back, glancing at Dean. “You’re still here?”
“Where else would I be?” Dean asked.
“Well, this will take a while,” Ash said. “I mean, I’m good, but still these bots are complicated things. Might take a while.”
Dean threw up his hands. “How much of a while?”
“I don’t know—an hour, maybe?” Ash said.
“Your shift starts in two hours,” Bobby said, glancing pointedly at Ash. “You better not be playing with bots when one o’ clock rolls around.”
Ash made a face. “Have I ever disappointed you, Bobby?” he said. “I’ll get my work done, no worry.”
“Idjit,” Bobby muttered. “Fine. Dean, you want to start your shift early? I’ll let you clock out early if you do.”
Dean shrugged and looked at the clock: 11:30. “Sure,” he said, getting up. “Ruby, be good, don’t wreck anything. And do what Ash tells you, okay?”
Ruby scowled at him. Dean shrugged, uncaring of the nasty look she sent him as he went out.
X
As Bobby promised, Dean clocked out around seven and headed for the staff room to hang up his gear. As he opened the door, he saw that Ruby was actually laughing at something—for once, that swallowed-a-lemon look was gone from her face.
“Wow,” Dean said, stopping in the doorway. “I didn’t know you could laugh.”
“I didn’t know you could talk,” Ruby retorted. “I thought you communicated solely in grunts and scowls.”
“Man, this chick is a piece of work,” Ash said admiringly as he unplugged Ruby from the computer. “There’s nothing wrong with her, Dean. She’s as pristine as the day she was made.”
Dean stopped. “Really? But she was acting all—weird, you know? You sure it’s not mechanical?”
Ash snorted. “You think I’d miss a flaw like that, Dean?” he said, sounding indignant. “Give me some credit.”
“Sorry, man,” Dean apologized. “So you mean there’s nothing wrong with her personality protocols? She’s perfectly fine?”
“Never seen finer,” Ash declared. “If she weren’t already claimed, I’d totally hit that.”
“Don’t need the visual, man,” Dean muttered. He stared at Ruby, who gave him a tight smile in return. “But I mean…wow. Huh.”
“Why? What’d you expect?” Ash asked, leaning back in his chair. “I told you that gen fives don’t get viruses, my man.”
“Right, I know, but…” Dean hesitated, then shrugged. “It’s just that, I thought she was…” he shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know. Some guy I know was talking about it.”
“About what? Spit it out. You can tell it to Ash.”
Dean wrinkled his nose. “That sounded totally wrong, by the way.” He sighed. “Ash, can robots—hell, this is a really dumb question, isn’t it? But can they feel?”
“You mean, emotions?” Ash said, looking at Ruby. “Hey, Ruby, what do you think?”
“I think the answer would explode Dean’s tiny brain,” she replied. “Insofar that he actually has one, of course.”
Ash chuckled, waving away the look that Dean gave him. “Score one for the bot,” he said, giving her a high-five. “If you’re ever on the market, lady, I’d snap you up. You’d have to be re-printed, but I’m sure we’d get along great.”
“Re-printed?”
“Bots imprint on the person who activates them. Kind of a mark of ownership, so they know whose heels to pant at.”
“Great. Well, your wish just might come true,” Dean said dryly. “Sam’s thinking of selling.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ash said. “Why? Her file says that this is a redesign. Sam’s just going to throw his ten grand investment away?”
“Ten grand?” Dean asked, momentarily sidetracked. “One bot is ten grand?”
“Gen fives are top of the line,” Ash said with a shrug, and Dean groaned, slapping his forehead. “They can hold conversations, they can learn to fit your needs, they adapt. They’re also fucking expensive. Secondhand ones go for about half that, I guess. Still more than I can afford, which is why I’m stuck with this piece of junk,” Ash said, banging the computer.
“I’m going to kill Sam,” Dean muttered.
“Well, the money’s well spent,” Ash said. “Personalized bots, what’s not to love? Best sex toys on the market.”
“Charming. They’re not a substitute for real people, Ash.”
“I’d be happy with one,” Ash said.
“Trust me,” Dean said. “They’re not as awesome as they appear to be.”
“Sounds like you got bitten,” Ash remarked. “How’s your own bot working out, by the way? You test it out yet?” he added, waggling his eyebrows. “See how long it can run?”
“No,” Dean said. “I, uh, it’s not my style.” He swallowed.
“So what, then? Don’t tell me you just keep it around to cook and clean. That’s a complete waste of money, you know. I hear they’re awesome in the bedroom.”
“No,” Dean admitted. “We…talk, mostly. And yeah, I know it’s stupid, but he makes for good conversation. Sometimes.” He rubbed his forehead. “He’s weird, Ash.”
“Weird how?”
“Weird as in he keeps asking about human stuff. Like, I don’t know, emotions. And free will. And trying to define things. Is that normal?”
Ruby snorted quietly. “You’re thicker than I thought,” she said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked her, riled.
“I’m not deaf,” Ruby said, tilting her chair back. “I heard your little tiff with him last night.”
Dean scowled. “So?” he demanded. “You can’t seriously mean that you’re jealous, Ruby,” he said skeptically. “What’re you going to do, take a knife to Jess’ wedding gown? Spike her tea with roofies? You’re not human, you know.”
Ruby gave him a long, hard look. Ash cleared his throat tactfully next to them. “You want the official answer to that question or the conspiracy crackpot answer?” he asked. “Because, you know, as a proud conspiracy crackpot I like the second one better.”
Dean threw up his hands. “Hit me.”
“I’d like to,” Ruby muttered.
“But you can’t,” Dean snapped.
“But I can,” Ash said brightly, “and man, if looks could kill, Ruby would’ve killed you very dead, Dean.”
“I thought the Three Laws forbade injuring a human,” Dean snapped, returning Ruby’s stare.
“Doesn’t prevent them from wanting to,” Ash said cheerfully. “Cybernetics claims that all their machines are fitted with an e-net, but they seem to do shit in gen fives. I’d give you a long explanation on how it works, but—”
“Yeah, yeah, I wouldn’t get it. But what do you mean, e-net? What’s that?”
“It’s short for emotional net. It’s supposed to ensure that bots don’t get psychopathic tendencies by cutting off the nastier end of the emotional spectrum.”
“And by does shit you mean…?”
“That it doesn’t work. Or at least according to the conspiracy crackpots, it doesn’t.” Ash gave Dean a big smile. “Bots with their e-nets disabled seem to work the same normal ones do.”
“Great,” Dean muttered. “So that means that you’re—” he stopped, looking at Ruby uncertainly.
Ruby shrugged. “I’m not saying anything.”
Dean paused. “So you’re not bothered by the thought of Jess and Sam writhing together in bed, their bodies moving as one, Sam bending down to lick sweat from Jess’ neck?”
“Dude!” Ash said, sounding impressed. “I like the way your mind works.”
Dean ignored him, his eyes fixed on Ruby. The bot’s expression was indecipherable. “I’m a bot,” she said finally, her voice very quiet. “I don’t get to act human.”
Dean sucked in a deep breath. “Since when did all bots act so self-aware?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowing. “The others just do their jobs. They could give a crap about the differences between bots and humans.”
“It’s called the curse of the gen fives,” Ash said, clearly enjoying all the drama. “Part of the reason why they’re so expensive is the advanced circuitry that allows them to conduct real conversations, but it brings up a lot of tricky questions that Cybernetics pretends doesn’t exist. Emotions, free will, the whole kit and caboodle. You should get on the Internet once in a while, man. There’s a conspiracy theory that Cybernetics is trying to take over the world.”
“Really?” Dean said.
“Really really. Gen fives are the prototypes for generation six bots, which will be completely realistic so you can’t tell them apart from humans. They’ll place the bots in key positions of government and then launch a nuclear war which only robots will survive, and humanity will be wiped out by their own creations.” Ash seemed rather pleased with this thought. “The only ones left alive will then struggle to regroup and start a resistance, but we know how that’ll end.”
“With everyone dying?” Dean said dryly.
“Well, yeah. It’ll be awesome.”
“Right,” Dean said. “But I thought bots couldn’t injure people. Wouldn’t that be kind of contradictory?”
Ash shrugged. “Obviously, the gen sixes will have the Three Laws disabled. It’s not that hard.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “You can do that?”
“It’s illegal as hell, but yeah,” Ash said. He blinked, then covered his mouth. “I mean, conspiracy crackpots can,” he said through his hand. “But obviously, I’m not.”
“I thought you said you were,” Dean said, amused.
“Nope, I’ve decided to refine my evil ways,” Ash announced, taking his hand away from his mouth. “Next thing you know, I’ll be paying taxes.”
Dean grinned. “You’d have to sort out your accounts first. Five years of receipts tucked away under your bed.”
“Seven,” Ash corrected.
“Right,” Dean drawled. “Well, I’ll be getting out of your hair, then. Come on, Ruby.”
“Bye,” Ash said, waving. “And come again, lovely lady,” he added, winking at Ruby.
“Would I have a choice?” Ruby retorted, but she didn’t seem angry. Dean glanced at her as he slid into his Impala; she had relaxed in a way that, well, Dean could see why Sam had kept her for so long. Once that sour look was off her face, she looked like you could have a conversation with her without her biting your head off.
“So,” Dean said as he pulled out onto the road. “You’re really jealous, huh?”
Ruby threw him a bitterly amused look. “Don’t get all excited about it,” she said.
“I’m not.” Dean was quiet for a moment. “Are you going to tell Sam?”
“About what?” Ruby said blandly. “He’s not a ‘conspiracy crackpot,’ is he? He’s a wonderful human being.”
“There was no sarcasm in all of that, obviously,” Dean said. “No, but maybe if you just talked to him. Told him about Jess and, you know, what you—what you feel.”
“And then what?” Ruby said, her face turned towards the window so he couldn’t see her expression. “He’s not going to give up Jess. I’m a robot. I don’t have needs.”
“You’re not supposed to,” Dean said uncertainly. He hesitated. “But do you?”
“Solar energy’s all I need,” was the quiet reply. “And that’s the truth of it.”
Dean thunked his head against the headrest with a sigh. “This was so much simpler when I stuck with mechbots,” he said. “Smartbots. You guys never give straight answers, do you?”
Ruby glanced at him, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. “That’s because no one wants to hear them,” she said. “And even if they did, it’s not like there would be a point, anyway.”
“I’m listening,” Dean protested.
“And the second you hear something you don’t like, you’ll tell me to shut up. How’s that a conversation?”
“I don’t—” Dean stopped, remembering how he had ordered Cas to shut up last night. “That’s different.”
“Of course,” Ruby said. “The eternal, ‘that’s different.’ It explains everything without actually explaining anything.”
Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Fine, then. I’ll pretend that you’re human, and you’ll actually give me more than some cryptic bullshit. Are you jealous of Jess?”
There was a pause. Then: “Yes.”
“Why?” Dean asked. “You do know that you’re not—I mean, it’s different! If he got another bot, I’d get it, but Jess is human. You’ve got, I don’t know, different functions.”
“I thought you said that we were going to pretend I was human,” Ruby said disdainfully.
“I’m not trying to pick a fight, Ruby. I just don’t get it.”
“You haven’t slept with him yet, have you?” Ruby said suddenly.
“What, Cas? No,” Dean said. “Why does everyone care so much about my sex life all of a sudden?”
“Because that’s what we’re made for,” Ruby said, her voice very soft. “Don’t believe that shit about ‘companionship’ and ‘your best friend,’ Dean, it’s all about the sex. At least, it’s supposed to be, until it no longer is. The thing about it, though, is that some parts of it are completely one-sided, because humans have amazing capacity for denial.”
“Oh, come on,” Dean said. “You can’t possibly be saying that you love Sam. You’re a bot. A bunch of circuits can’t love.”
Ruby laughed, a harsh, guttural sound. “Of course not,” she said flatly. “We just imprint. We’re devoted by virtue of a program or a code to the person who activates us, and there’s no way to change that. But when you cut it down to the bare components, the end result’s not all that different.”
Dean inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly through his nose. “Right,” he said at last. “Well, I’ve already tried to dissect anger and monumentally sucked at it. I don’t suppose you’re going to spout out a definition of love now? Cas would try to define the parameters; what’s your style when it comes this sappy crap?”
“You mean my personality protocol,” Ruby corrected dryly. “I don’t have an original style, remember?”
“Huh. Apparently, your style is evasion,” Dean said. “And sarcasm. I never knew Sam was into those traits.”
“Well, he is,” Ruby said. “The things you learn.”
They drove on in silence. Finally, Dean said, “What if I never want to have sex with him?”
“Then don’t,” Ruby said. “That’s the beauty of being human; you get to choose.”
“You mean there are bots out there who don’t get to choose? They’re…are they…”
Ruby snorted. “Choice implies that we have free will,” Ruby said. “When the Laws forbid you from saying “no” and a few programming changes can make you consent to anything, choice doesn’t even come into it.”
“Ah, the eternal free will question. Has Sam ever…” Dean trailed off, grimacing. Well, hell—of course Sam wouldn’t—he was such a puppy dog and a gentleman all in one. “I mean, not that he would,” he said. “Sam’s not that kind of guy.” He swallowed as the words were dragged out of him, almost of their own volition: “I mean, he isn’t—right?”
“I never said no,” Ruby said finally. “But then again, neither does any other bot.”
“Did you ever want to?” Dean said finally, reluctantly.
“I’m not designed to not want anything,” Ruby said.
Dean groaned. “That’s not an answer. You sure want to take Jess out of the equation, I bet.”
“So there’s a design flaw.”
“Yeah, very helpful. Can’t you be straight for once? How can you say that you don’t want but also want?”
“Programming’s everything,” Ruby said with a shrug. “Love it, hate it, can’t break it.”
“But that doesn’t make sense.”
“Blame Asimov and the goons at Cybernetics. Don’t worry, I’ll always be a good smartbot that you can reset if I piss you off too much.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Dean muttered.
“Goddamn smartbots,” Ruby agreed, glancing up to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. Dean smiled against his will. “So, you’re not really into having sex with Cas huh?”
“No,” Dean said automatically, though he was no longer sure if that was really true. He flashed a casual grin at Ruby. “I prefer my conquests live.”
“Right,” Ruby murmured. “But it can get complicated when you’re with other humans: those tricky questions of passion, love, the morning after—with a bot, you can just walk away.”
“Which side are you on?” Dean asked her, bemused. “On one hand, you’re saying that you love Sam. The other, you’re telling me to fuck Cas for the hell of it. What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying that unless you’re a conspiracy crackpot, there’s no need to believe that there are any strings attached,” Ruby said. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.”
“By ‘we’ you mean bots,” Dean said.
“What else?” Ruby said.
Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead. “God, this is so complicated. I’m sticking to mechbots,” he announced. “From this point onward. I’ll stay with the bots that can’t talk.”
“Be sure to reset Cas,” Ruby said. “It’s okay, he won’t remember it.”
“I’m not—” Dean said, flustered. He stopped himself mid-sentence, fighting down the instinctive indignation that arose at the thought of losing Cas. “I’m not going to reset him, for god’s sake. I was joking. Besides, he’s useful. He cooks better than I do.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Ruby said sardonically as they pulled up in Sam’s driveway. “It’s more legitimate.”
Dean watched Ruby get out of the car and stalk over to Sam’s door, knocking twice. Sam answered the door and looked in Dean’s direction. Dean gave him a small half-wave before pulling out of the driveway, not really in the mood to talk to Sam at the moment.
X
“Hey,” Dean said as he pulled off his jacket and threw it carelessly onto the couch. “Sorry I’m late. I had to drop Ruby back at Sam’s.”
Castiel watched him for a long moment. “Dinner’s on the table,” he said finally, his voice quiet.
“Yeah, I know,” Dean said. “I, uh…” he cleared his throat. “God. I never thought I’d be saying this—”
“—to a bot, of all things?” Castiel interrupted dryly.
“Yeah. I mean, no. Wait. I just, uh…about yesterday. You were asking things, and I cut you off. That was rude of me.” He coughed. “So, uh, sorry.”
“I’m not upset,” Castiel said.
“Yeah...but that’s not really in your system, is it? Being upset. Or if it is, I guess you wouldn’t tell me.” Dean eased himself onto the couch next to Cas, his fingers drumming nervously at the armrest. “I was talking to Ruby earlier. She, uh, might have mentioned that you’re not as wrong as—I mean, some things I guessed I never thought about. No more than any other human. I mean, we’re a bunch of dicks, aren’t we?” He trailed off. “Cas?”
Castiel paused, then said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Dean laughed. “Right. Sorry.” He coughed. “Listen, I was thinking.”
“A dangerous pursuit, no doubt,” Castiel said.
“Ha ha,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “No, I mean…” he swallowed hard. “I need to be drunk for this, I think.”
“There’s leftover champagne in the fridge,” Castiel said.
“No, I mean—I’m used to doing this in bars, mostly. Pickup lines and all that shit.” He glanced at Cas, who looked faintly puzzled. “I haven’t been with anyone for a long time,” he said. “Part of the reason why Sam got a bot, I guess. I used to go out to bars whenever I felt the itch, but lately…I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I haven’t slept with anybody in ages.”
“I don’t understand. Are you stating that you wish to engage in sexual intercourse?” Castiel said finally.
“No!” Dean said instinctively. He didn’t want to have sex with bots. He didn’t want to have artificial sex, because that was just weird and wrong and, well, wrong. “I don’t—hell, man, why are all humans such dogs?”
“That’s an insult to the canines, I think,” Castiel said thoughtfully.
Dean made a face at him. “Nice. You really know how to flatter a man, don’t you?”
“Do you want to be flattered?” Castiel asked.
Dean sighed. “If I said yeah, you’d have to do it, wouldn’t you? You’d have to obey the order.”
“As mandated by the Second Law,” Castiel agreed.
“I shouldn’t say anything, then,” Dean muttered unwillingly, leaning back against the sofa. “I seem to be fucking things up royally these days.”
A warm hand landed on Dean’s shoulder, and he jumped slightly. Castiel’s palm grazed slowly up and down his arm, sending tingles of heat down his spine. “I meant it when I said I wasn’t upset,” Castiel said quietly.
“And it was for real,” Dean said, his eyes still fixed upon Castiel’s hand on him. “Because you guys really can feel?”
He meant it as a statement, but it came out as a question. Castiel gave a small shrug. “You seem to have revised your statement from the night before,” he said.
“I—I don’t know so much about revise, but yeah,” Dean said slowly. “It’s just—I never considered it before. Ever. It’s weird. And the free will thing. Do the Three Laws really cut you off all that much? I mean, you can interpret them so literally, so what’s the problem?”
Cas considered it for a moment. “The Laws form the core,” he said finally. “But there are other regulations we must follow.”
“Such as?”
Cas shrugged. “There are certain programs written to create our desires.”
“So, you mean, what I want, you want?”
“Something like that, yes. Except sometimes they can conflict with unforeseen urges.” He was quiet. “Emotions, for example.”
“Yeah, those are messy,” Dean said, shaking his head. “You were right, man. Ruby’s angry at Sam.”
“For replacing her with Jess?”
“Yeah, I guess. But wouldn’t she want Sam to be happy? If his desires are her desires…”
“And thus the paradox,” Castiel said. “There are some flaws with the robotic designs, it seems.”
“Huh,” Dean said. “Well, I hashed this out with Ruby today. I have to say, though, that she’s not that bad. I mean, she’s still too snippy for my taste, but Ash seems to think that she’s great.”
“Who is Ash?”
“This guy at work. He’s…a bit weird, but he knows his stuff. I think you’d like him. He’s officially a repair mechanic, but he takes care of a lot of the programming side too. I don’t think anyone knows more about bots than he does.”
“I would be pleased to meet him someday,” Castiel said gravely.
“Yeah,” Dean murmured. He took a deep breath as Castiel’s hand slid down his arm, rubbing slowly across his thigh. “What’re you doing?”
Castiel stopped his movements. “Is it unpleasant?”
“What—stroking?” Dean said.
“Foreplay,” Castiel said, looking at him oddly. “It’s a precursor to sex, isn’t it?”
“Right,” Dean muttered. “Foreplay, sex, cuddles. I get it.” He swallowed. “No—it’s, uh, nice. I guess.” He glanced at Castiel. “Do you want this?” he asked, hearing the slight note of desperation in his voice and hating it.
Castiel looked at him as if he didn’t quite understand the question, his hands never stopping. “Want?” he said.
“Yeah. You know, do you want to get all kinky and bendy?” Dean asked, forcing a smile. "It's not really my style, but hey, anything to please the crowd."
“I would like to experience whatever you wish,” Castiel said in a low growl, and fuck, that voice was sending a rush of blood straight to Dean’s groin. Dean took a deep breath and forced himself to think rationally with his upper half.
“Yeah, but I mean, do you want this—this sex, I mean,” Dean said, struggling for coherency. “I don’t—I don’t want to be one of those—I just—” he stopped, floundering.
“I consent,” Castiel said quietly, leaning closer. “If that is the formality you are looking for, then you may have it.”
“Yeah, but—” Dean pushed Cas’ hand away and stood up, his legs wobbling. “I don’t want you to want it because you’re supposed to want it,” he said, aware that he was making no sense whatsoever. “I mean—can you say no? Do you want to say no? Because you can.”
Castiel tilted his head, looking confused and somehow bereft on the sofa. “I don’t understand,” he said after a moment. “This is what is supposed to happen. I don’t know why you’re rejecting it.”
“Because it’s not supposed to happen!” Dean said. “I mean, is there a ‘must have sex’ clause in your programming or something? I—fucking hell, Cas! Do you even understand the concept of ‘no’?”
“If the human partner says no, the order must be obeyed,” Castiel said, clearly reciting from some inner manual.
“And if the bot says no?”
There was a pause. Then Cas said, “Why would the bot say no?”
“Because they don’t want—” Dean swallowed hard. “It’s not consensual unless you can say no,” Dean said. “I’m not—I’m not that kind of guy, Cas.”
“Why do you feel shame?” Castiel asked. “If you desire consent, then I gladly give it.”
“It wouldn’t mean anything,” Dean said, feeling hot and desperate all at once, not sure why he felt this way except that it was wrong. Logically, he couldn’t think why the hell he was having this argument in the first place: after all, Cas was a bot; bots didn’t want; therefore, their desires had nothing to do with sex.
Except maybe they did—want, that was. Ruby wanted Sam, because the imprinting protocol mandated it. She was supposed to want what Sam wanted, except she didn’t want Jess, because Jess would replace her, and at any rate she was forbidden to do anything about it. But would any of it be real if not for the lines of code in her circuits? Goddamn Asimov and his infernal creations!
“Dean,” Castiel said, and now he was standing up, one hand reaching out towards him.
“I’m not a fucking philosopher,” Dean muttered out loud. “Why can’t things be easy for once?”
“They can,” Castiel said, looking faintly puzzled. “You confuse me, sometimes.”
Dean looked at Castiel—the way he stood with his arms slightly open, the mussed black hair and the open, slightly pleading expression on his face. The hands that felt exactly like human hands, the body that Sam promised was so damn perfect. And the bracelet, the metal bracelet that signified that Castiel was a bot and that none of his desire was real.
“Fuck this,” Dean muttered, grabbing his jacket. “I’m going to get drunk.”
x
Chapter Five