Chapter Text
"I'm just saying," said Sam, "I think — "
He stopped and pinched his lips together, exhaling through his nose. Sam tapped a forefinger on the edge of the bar.
Dean snorted. "Spit it out, Sammy. If you haven't already figured out how to sugar-coat whatever it is you want to say, you're sure as hell not going to find the magic words now." he glared up at his brother, the height difference between them more pronounced with the way Dean sat slouched on the barstool.
Sam held out for a few more moments before shrugging, meeting his brother's gaze in a way that made him look younger for a moment, a gangly youth trying to pretend to be a grown-up in a suit so flashy Dean was pretty sure Sam would have never even thought about wearing a year ago.
"I think you're looking at this from the wrong perspective. In fact, I think you've got this completely backwards," Sam said.
"Is that so?" Dean said, careful to maintain a neutral tone. He saw Sam rarely enough these days that he didn't want to turn this into another fight if he could help it. "How would you look at it, then?"
"The task force needs a skeptic. Someone who's not going to just buy into whatever line CyberLife wants to spin," Sam continued, warming to his topic. "The public's starting to get nervous; you know that. People in Detroit — hell, people across the country — need to believe that these incidents aren't being swept under the rug, that the Android-Involved Incidents Task Force isn't just for show. They need a top detective on the case."
Dean slugged down another mouthful of bourbon as he considered his response. It wasn't that he wasn't touched at Sam's faith in him. But Sam hadn't been on the force in over a year. He didn't know the way every conversation with the captain these days was an argument, the way the uniformed officers wouldn't even look him in the eye most of the time. Dean knew he was one or two write-ups away from the point where even the union wouldn't be able to keep the brass from kicking him out the door.
He knew he should care. All he had wanted to be was a detective like John had been. But it was hard to muster the energy to care when he just couldn't swallow the lie that he was capable of doing any good any more.
He had thought he could make a difference. Make Detroit a safer place. What a joke.
"It's not that I don't appreciate what you're saying, Sam, but you weren't there when the captain volun-told me I was going to be the head of this Criminal Android —"
"Android-Involved Incidents," Sam corrected.
"Whatever," Dean sat up, irritation starting to get the better of him. "She didn't hesitate to remind me that I could take this on or I could get written up. I am the worst possible choice in the precinct — no. The worst possible choice on the entire force — to run point on a task force like this. I'm not a fucking 'skeptic', I am pretty fucking sure what I think about these machines. They don't think for themselves. They don't think at all, no matter what bullshit CyberLife fools people into believing. They picked me for two reasons, and neither of them are pretty," he spat out.
Dean didn't realize how much he'd raised his voice until Ash was already across from them, polishing a glass with a towel that looked dubiously clean. "Take it easy now, Lieutenant," he he drawled. From anyone else it would have sounded like they were barely awake; for Ash it was about as agitated as he ever got. Sam and Dean both mumbled apologies and Ash nodded, his job done for the moment.
"And they are?" Sam asked after a pause.
"One, CyberLife told them to pick me because my brother works for them," Dean started.
Sam bristled, predictably. "I still work for the mayor's office. You know that."
"Yeah, and you spend your nine to five at CyberLife Tower, getting coffee with the CEO. You think they don't think they're turning you native…anyway." Dean shrugged.
"I don't want to have this argument again. And I'm mostly working with Nick."
"Who the fuck is Nick? What happened to Haven?" This was new, and enough to sidetrack Dean from his rant for the moment.
"I'm still the city's liaison to CyberLife's Ethics and Regulatory Compliance Council, and Michael Haven's still running the council, but that means he can't be at headquarters all the time. He's in — DC, I think, right now. He's basically going to be traveling for the next two months. There are a lot of state governments who want to talk to CyberLife, especially with the couple of Deviant cases that made headlines. So I'm working with the android who's functioning as Michael's replacement," Sam explained. "It's practically like working with Michael, it's — it's kind of amazing, actually, Nick's got the same depth of knowledge, he has insight into these ethical questions, it's pretty much like I'm talking to Michael. Michael's basically in two places at once because of Nick. Nick even makes coffee the same way, even though he doesn't drink it, obviously. It was weird, at first, but once I had a couple of conversations with Nick, it just seemed normal," Sam finished. "So what's your other reason?"
Dean looked up at Sam from where he'd been staring vaguely toward his empty glass. "I know what you're gonna say. You're not going to like it."
"Try me."
"Someone wants this task force to fail."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh really. What's your evidence for that, Lieutenant Winchester?"
"Did you know that I'm not just the head of the task force, I'm the only one on it ? The captain gave me some bullshit about future expansion, maybe sometime. Try never. Unless homicide or major crimes catch the case at the same time, I'm working these cases alone . That sound like a recipe for success?"
"Dean, if you just give it a chance —"
"Lieutenant Winchester."
Surprised, Dean turned toward the back of the bar, where the gravelly voice had come from. Sam moved aside to make space a space for the new arrival to approach. He had clearly just arrived, his trenchcoat still wet from the pouring rain that beat against the bar's front door, dripping puddles onto the worn linoleum.
Dean's first thought was that it shouldn't be possible for him to have slipped in the front entrance and past both Winchesters without attracting any notice. This was his first drink of the evening, he wasn't far enough down the whiskey — but Sam was clearly surprised as well, and he hadn't been drinking. The bar was extremely narrow, he must have been no more than inches behind them when he slipped by.
Because the visitor should have attracted attention. With the light blue band around his upper right arm, and the LED at his right temple, a glowing blue ring with a bright spot inside endlessly circling. Designed to catch your attention, or so Dean had heard somewhere. Designed to make him easy to spot.
It easy to spot, Dean corrected himself. Designed to make it easy to spot. So people would immediately know it was an android and not a person.
It strode forward and settled itself between Sam and Dean as if it was completely unconcerned about whether it had a right to be here, as if there wasn't a large "No Dogs, No Androids" sign prominently posted behind the bar. Dean saw Ash start toward them and shook his head slightly to head him off. This was his mess, he would handle it.
"My name is Castiel; I'm the android sent by CyberLife," it said, extending its hand for a handshake, which Dean ignored.
"I'm glad to have finally located you," Castiel continued. "I looked for you at the station, but nobody knew where you were. The desk sergeant said you were probably having a drink nearby."
"What'd you do, track my cell phone?"
Castiel frowned. "Of course not; I searched the four bars closest to the station, and then I saw your brother's car outside this one." It nodded toward Sam. "I hope you don't mind, Sam."
It was Dean's turn to frown. He looked over Castiel's head at his brother. "You didn't tell me you knew it."
Sam looked slightly sheepish. "I was getting around to that. I was introduced to Castiel back when he was first deployed," he nodded towards Castiel. "I don't mind. Hello, Castiel."
Castiel turned back towards Dean. "You and I have been assigned a case. An officer-involved shooting. In accordance with procedure, the detectives on site have been advised to hand the case off to us as soon as we arrive. Come with me." It stood back from the bar, gesturing to Dean to get up.
"Listen," Dean said. "First, I don't need assistance from a plastic asshole like you, and second, if there's one thing I'm not , it's Internal Affairs. Officer-involved shooting is going to get handled by whatever homicide detective is already on scene and whenever the Rat Squad gets their thumbs out of their asses."
Castiel tipped its head and squinted. "The officer shot an android. It's not a homicide investigation. The department may compensate the owner for the loss of their property, though in this case the officer was acting in defense of human life."
"What do they need us for, then?"
"To investigate why the android suddenly became deviant and attacked the owner and the owner's son, having shown no previous signs of deviancy from its programming. I need you to accompany me to the crime scene."
Dean had barely finished saying "Well I need to finish my drink, tin man," before Castiel snatched the glass from Dean's hand and poured the last of his bourbon onto the floor.
"Now we can go." It said with more than a trace of irritation, before nodding politely to Sam and stalking towards the front of the bar, the bright blue triangle patch between its shoulderblades catching the light as its trenchcoat swung open.
"Just give him a chance, Dean," Sam sighed. "He's an advanced model specifically designed to help the police. Just…please."
Shaking his head, Dean stood and grabbed his leather jacket from the coat hook on the wall behind him, and followed the latest of his problems out into the rain.