Author's Note: This will be a series of (usually) unrelated oneshots pertaining to the Cas/Anna relationship. Not every entry will be "shippy" of course, but feel free to read into them however you like. I was going to make these another "ABC's of" fic, but decided against as this will allow me more freedom. (Also note: I will of course continue to update the ABC's of Castiel and Jody regularly until we reach Z)

I'll take prompts and requests - I don't write smut, but I'll rate everything T just to be safe. And, as always, reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated!

All entries, as seen below, will list the title and what episode the tag belongs to, if any.


FALLEN

Pre-series


They're not allowed to have favorites. Love one brother or sister more than the thousand others they have.

But he does.

He's unmindful of his actions at first, even to the stirring in his chest when they interact. When she says his name; when he says hers.

Her true name. Annael.

At first, once he realizes, he's immediately ashamed. This isn't how angels behave. They are designed to be emotionless, steady, and obedient. Not… particular to one fiery haired commander whose smile, genuine or bitter, does curious things to his insides. But he doesn't understand the extent of what this is, of course. That what he feels is not favortism alone, but so much more. If he had grasped the truth of it all, there'd be no telling the consequences that could come of it. Over time, though, he learns to live with it. It's apparently not going to cease or diminish, so he pushes it to dormancy. Not necessarily does he embrace it, but nor does he reject it. This is another thing angels don't do; walk amid shades of gray instead of marching that stalwart line.

She knows.

He can tell she knows. His actions, the ever-stoic set of his face, the willing obedience to follow her orders like the dutiful soldier and not some heartsick fledgling; they would never give him away. But his eyes do. The ethereally opalescent set of them is always a cacophony of darks and lights; everchanging to his surroundings. He's a curious creature—more so than his brothers and sisters, and he is famous for his softspoken delight in their Father's creations. The hue of his eyes can become hard and steely when confronted with battles, but when his gaze settles on her, it is one shade of blue.

The color of calm waters, soft and deep, with an undercurrent of respect, and crashing waves of longing. He is constantly stifling it, or so it feels. But Annael is observant—sometimes too much so for her own good. Though, she doesn't reprimand him. Instead, she'll smile at him. Of all things. It's small and a little forlorn; barely there, but his eyes always catch it. He's not sure what it means. Strategy, he knows. Tearing into the flesh of the Fallen and the corrupt, he knows.

Whatever this may be, it is more foreign to him than the human creatures who walk the earth below them.


Annael knows Castiel will never give in to those feelings churning in the heart he isn't supposed to have. That none of them have.

What purpose did it serve, for them, the sole two, to be so different?

When she speaks to him lately, voice low and somehow a broken shell of what she once had been, worry fills his soul. During their conversations, their missions, his tired wings fidget with concern. Something is wrong. And it's alien to him; confusing. She is the warrior he tries to embody. She is the mold for them all, at least within the ranks of their garrison. Uriel often commends Michael or Raphael for their bravery and razor-edged honor. But Castiel looks to her.

So when she stumbles over words and sentences, weighted down with frequent hesitation, he only wants to understand. When he asks of this, she only looks at him with deeply sad eyes, sometimes with a brush of her fingers over his. Hoping, perhaps even showing. But his brow knits, the lines of his mouth pulling into a frown at what cannot be explained to him in words alone.

Castiel will never act on what illuminates between them.


The following night, a shooting star falls from the heavens, lighting up the sky of Kentucky.

There are days when Castiel considers tearing out his own Grace and following her.

But he never does.


Author's Note: Reviews and promps make me very happy. Like... Cas/Cheeseburger happy.