Five Times Rachel Smiled At Castiel

Rating: PG-13/T

Genre: Romance/Drama/Angst/Tragedy

Summary: And one time she didn't. Castiel/Rachel.

Author's Note: Yeah, just me wanting to do more Castiel/Rachel because NO ONE ELSE DOES. Seriously. I've barely seen Rachel anywhere (THANK YOU to those who HAVE written her), but most of it was Gen or Gen-ish, or she wasn't featured as a prominent character.


I don't CARE how little we actually know about her: Make it up! Write her friendly, write her bitchy, write her in love with Cas, pair her up with freakin' Raphael but JUST WRITE HER!
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. It belongs to Eric Kripke.



"I thought you wanted it."

Castiel shifted a little, nervous, his miniature wings fluttering sporadically.

"I do."

"Then go get it."

"It's forbidden."


Balthazar shook his head at his little brother. Castiel was still unusually small for his age, and his large eyes made him look both adorable and particularly terrified all at once. All the same, though, best to toughen him up while he could.

"I certainly hope you don't think I'm going in there to get it for you. I'm not putting my arse on the line because you're too scared to do a little rule-bending."




"There's no rule against taking flowers from Eden."

"That's because the overall rule is that no one goes into Eden in the first place."

"Rules were made to be broken." Castiel gaped at his brother, who rolled his eyes. "Oh come on. I hardly think you'll get your wings torn off for something like picking a flower. It's a garden. More will grow. I promise."

Castiel shivered, hesitated, then steeled himself and darted into the garden, praying profusely that no one caught him. He hated lying, was a terrible liar and really, there was no lie that could explain this away when his intentions were so utterly clear.

Castiel's eyes scanned the garden, eyeing the flowers and wondering which one he should go for when a particular specimen caught his eye. It was a long, thin green stem that curled over on itself, from it growing numerous, tiny, white bell-shaped flowers that dangled delicately. It didn't have a name now, but thousands of years later it would be called the convallaria majalis, or 'Lily of the Valley'.

Hesitating, glancing left and right and praying once more that he wasn't caught, Castiel slipped forward and gently, very gently, plucked a stem of the flower and hoping that Joshua wouldn't look and notice before a new one could grow in its place. The diminutive flowers felt even more fragile than they looked, and he was very careful told hold the stem in a loose grip and kept the other hand curled around it so that once he bolted away, the inertia wouldn't crush it against him.

Balthazar grinned when he returned, and even though he'd done something wrong, he couldn't help but be happy about the pride his brother seemed to show for him in that moment. "There you go! Was that so hard?"


Balthazar rolled his eyes and jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

"Just give it to her already."

Castiel may have paled a little bit, and he just narrowly avoided crushing the flower in his hand.

Sitting not so far away from where they'd been, near the edge of the garden, were a number of brothers and sisters doing various things in the grass. Some were in groups. Some were alone. Castiel's target was a small sister his own approximate age sitting alone, doing something or other that he couldn't see and, quite frankly, wasn't immediately concerned about.


Rachel looked up. "Hello Castiel."

Castiel's mouth opened and shut for a moment, and her gaze was curious as she watched him try to form the words. In the end, though, he simply held out his hand and offered her the flower. Her eyes brightened.

"Is that for me?"
Castiel nodded, and managed to croak, "Yes." Watching from a ways off, Balthazar rolled his eyes.

She accepted the flower. "Thank you, Castiel."

Rachel smiled, and it was grateful and affectionate.

Castiel was satisfied.


Humanity came, and with it new wonders to explore.

Humans were so very different than them, wild and expressive. They used different gestures, different words, different everything to convey things to one another.

Castiel had taken a man, a slave in his late twenties as a vessel. Rachel had taken a dark haired girl of fifteen for hers, and the two of them went about exploring humanity incognito, careful not to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves.

"They are curious, aren't they?" Rachel adjusted the scarf the woman wore over her head. "I mean, humans are much more sensitive to temperatures than we are, and this climate is very warm. I don't know why the women wear such stifling garments."

Castiel had been at a loss as well, but before he could respond, something in the darkening twilight of the day caught his eye.

A man and a woman were standing in the dark shadows between a couple of buildings, clearly not wanting to be seen but not being able to hide from the sharp senses of an angel. Their faces were close, their lips pressed together, kissing.

All in all, kissing was not a foreign subject to the Host of Heaven. Kisses were given every now and then. But this wasn't a kiss between friends that Castiel and now Rachel (who'd noticed that he'd stopped and had followed his eyes) were witnessing; it was a kiss between lovers, maybe husband and wife. That was the type of kissing that angels were not so familiar with.

"Do you suppose it's more pleasant than the other kind?" Castiel asked, tilting his head to the side and analyzing the pair with a sort of scientific curiosity.

"Maybe." Rachel thought for a moment, and then turned to Castiel and tugged on the uneven sleeve of his vessel's tunic, making him turn towards her and lean down a little so she could reach him better.

He was confused until Rachel's lips brushed experimentally over his own, and Castiel felt his vessel's heart-rate escalate to a dangerous level, so hard and fast that he could feel it pounding away in his chest. It barely lasted a second, but Castiel felt that it was one of the best things he'd ever felt in his long, long life.

Rachel pulled back slowly, and he liked to think that she felt the same way. She cocked her head to the side.

"Hm. That was pleasant."

Castiel nodded dumbly. "Yes."

Rachel smiled, and it was sweet and warm.

Castiel didn't ask for more but, for a brief moment, he wanted to. Badly.


Following the successful retrieval of the Righteous Man from hell, Castiel was a confusing mix of satisfied and deeply disappointed.

He was satisfied because of all of the angels sent to hell, he was the one who had grabbed Dean Winchester, pieced him back together into the human he once was and pulled him from the pit, bringing him back to life and freeing him from perdition. Castiel had succeeded and then some with his task, handed down by God, and he was nothing if not a humble servant to His will.

But he was also deeply saddened, because before they could reach him, before they could save him, Dean Winchester broke, and with him the first of the Sixty-Six Seals. Lilith's plan to break Lucifer from the cage and thereby start the apocalypse had been set into motion, and with only sixty-five seals out of a possible six-hundred to be broken, the odds were not in their favor.

"Castiel!" He turned around to see Rachel standing behind him, the wind in his preferred heaven blowing the blonde hair of her vessel around her face. "You succeeded, Castiel. Our brothers, sisters and God are very pleased with you."

Rachel smiled, and it was full of admiration.

Castiel could ask for nothing more.


When Castiel returned to heaven, he was greeted by seven members of his garrison.

And while they were all his brothers and sisters and he loved them each, it was Rachel's presence at the forefront of them that made him smile.

She looked astonished. "Castiel, we saw Lucifer destroy you."

And he had. Castiel had felt Jimmy Novak's blood and bone and tissue tear and snap and break and turn to mush and powder, and then just as quickly felt it knit back together as though nothing had happened at all.

"It was God, wasn't it?" The hope and certainty in Rachel's voice that their Father had directly intervened, had shown his power for all to see clearly for the first time in a long, long time, it disappointed Castiel to have to tell her otherwise.

"He chose you, Cas, to lead us," She suggested, nothing but the deepest awe and approbation in her eyes when she looked at him, and were he not so high off the thrill of the averted apocalypse he might have blushed.

"No one leads us anymore," He said. "We're free to make our own choices and choose our own fates."

But Rachel frowned, and looked around towards the others before looking back to him. She asked a question that Castiel felt foolish for not expecting.

"What does God want?"

If this were two years previous, he would have asked the same question. He would have shown the same confusion, the same almost-nervousness that came with uncertainty. He would have looked to whoever was speaking for answers.

"God wants you to have freedom." Castiel thought, hoped that that might settle it, but Rachel tilted her head to the side, still confused.

"But what does he want us to do with it?"

Castiel tried to explain free will, tried to put into words the concept of thinking without looking to someone else for guidance on what they should be thinking about, but it was harder than he thought it would be. Dean had never actively explained free will to him; he'd taught Castiel through action. And honestly, Castiel had already been ahead of the pack when it came to independent thought.

He tried for hours, and Taharial and Sariel left out of impatience, and Orifiel, Nathaniel and Mumiah were called away to other duties, and Micah mentioned another engagement, but at the end of the day it was Rachel that was still there, still listening, still trying to wrap her mind around what Castiel was trying to say.

"Are you understanding this? Any of it?" Castiel asked weakly. Rachel shook her head.

"No… But I'll try as best as I can to, Castiel. I believe in you. And whatever you're saying must be important."

Rachel smiled at him, and it was full of hope and confidence and loyalty.

And Castiel wanted nothing more than to live up to that.


With free will came other freedoms too.

Much had been barred to the angels of the Host with Michael in charge, and much was still barred to those under Raphael. But all Castiel was concerned with were loyal followers who believed in freedom. He didn't care what they did so long as they remembered to be good people at the end of the day and try to make the good choices that were open to them now.

That being said, many angels- on a more reserved track than the one Balthazar had chosen to take- were experimenting with certain things that had been forbidden before. Alcohol, for instance, was sampled, and Castiel was vaguely amused that, after over-indulging, many absolutely refused to ever go near it again.

Many chose to take vessels, go down to earth and study humans more closely and even interact with them to a degree, learning more about them and their culture. It was good for them to know what they were fighting for, and Castiel was desperate for them to understand why these humans were so worthy of being protected in spite of their many flaws.

And, of course, there was the sex.

Sex, by far, was the biggest taboo in the Host. Without question. Sex was dirty and wrong and the worst portrayal of lust there was. And since there had never been an angel created from a union between two other angels there was no reason to have sex on the basis of procreation.

But now angels were experimenting with it. Castiel was aware of that, but really was not tempted to press for any further information. Would you want to know about your brother or sister's sexual exploits? No. No you wouldn't. And neither did Castiel.

But he was curious as to the act itself, oh yes he was. He was curious from the moment Dean brought him to that den of iniquity and he had had that awkward encounter with the young woman going by the name of 'Chastity' (her real name was Michelle and she was a college student a little low on funds). He was curious after reuniting with Balthazar and hearing, against his will, some of the more raunchy things his big brother had gotten up to since he'd left heaven.

And most of all, he was curious when he found out that Rachel was curious.

Castiel had never seen Rachel as a sexual person. He'd never once dreamed that one day she'd be straddling his hips as she removed her vessel's shirt and jacket, leaving so much skin exposed, so much to touch. And he could touch, could satisfy that sense of more that he'd felt that day hundreds of years ago when they'd kissed.

He had never dreamed that he would lose his virginity, that he and Rachel would lose theirs to each other, and that it would be one of the best moments of his life, feeling so fulfilled and content and blissful to have achieved such a state with her, who'd silently captured his heart in their youngest years.

When they were finished and had had time to rest, they knew they had to get up and go again, had to get back to work because though it had felt like time had stopped for them, it really hadn't, and Raphael was still at work against them.

Castiel was re-buttoning Jimmy Novak's white dress shirt when he felt Rachel's presence very, very close to him again, and finally felt her chin resting on his shoulder. He smiled and turned a bit to kiss her again, relishing in the fact that he could do this as often as he wanted and there wasn't a damn thing Raphael or anyone else could do about it.

Screw them.

Nothing in the world could convince him that this was wrong.

Rachel was perfect and beautiful and pure, and she always would be.

When she slid to her knees and started working at undoing the slacks again, Castiel's brain short-circuited.

"Rachel, you- Are you sure? You- You don't have to…"

Her gaze flicked up to him. "I want to," She said, eyes twinkling. "I choose to." Castiel's breathing went ragged, and he nodded limply.

"I… Can't argue with that."

Rachel smiled up at him, and it was full of mischief, contentment and, most of all, love.

And Castiel had never been happier.


"We need to talk."

Castiel turned around to face Rachel, surprised that it was she who had summoned him anonymously to the warehouse.

"You summoned me here?"

"Castiel, I've been hearing things. Things I don't want to believe. Just tell me if it's true."

"If what's true?" He would admit to nothing, just in case it wasn't as bad as he thought.

"You know. Your dirty little secret."

Castiel shut his eyes and looked away, not wanting to see the expression on her face. His own visage was all the confirmation she needed for her inquiry, and when Castiel opened his eyes and looked at her again, she looked shocked and, quite frankly, horrified.

"I have to defeat Raphael."

"Not this way, Castiel." She shook her head almost pleadingly.

"Rachel-" His tone warned and silently begged Please, please, please, please, please, don't do this-

"We put our faith in you, and…" Her eyes were so sad. "…Look what you're turning into."

He didn't know what she knew or how much she knew. Maybe she only knew about Crowley. Or maybe she knew about purgatory too. Or maybe, just maybe, she knew what they were planning and what would happen when he absorbed all of those souls.

It didn't matter.

Castiel's gaze and voice were unyielding. "I don't have a choice."

Rachel did not smile at him, and all he saw written on her face was desolation and grim determination.

Castiel was heartbroken.

"Then neither do I."