A/N: I originally posted these on tumblr as just some random, very short pieces, but now that I have a few of them, I thought maybe I'd go ahead and make a collection for them here.

"Paint the Sky"

Sam finds Cas at the top of the mound under which the bunker is buried.

"Dude, what are you doing up here?"

"Watching the sunset," Cas replies.

"Uh, okay." Sam comes to stand beside him, facing west where splashes of coral, fuchsia, and orchid-violet smear across the sky in sweeping brushstrokes. Sure, it's pretty, but Cas must have seen thousands of them in his lifetime.

Still, there's something somber and nostalgic about the angel, an almost wistful glimmer in his eyes as he gazes out toward the horizon. So Sam stands there and watches the sunset with him as the colors intensify, deepening into darker shades that will soon be swallowed by the encroaching dusk.

"I guess no two sunsets are exactly the same," he finally says to break the silence. But it also breaks the spell.

Cas looks over at him with a quarter of a smile. "When I had my wings, I used to fly into the atmosphere and paint the sky at sunset. I never created the same pattern twice." He ducks his head as though suddenly ashamed. "It was childish."

Sam frowns. "That doesn't sound childish. It sounds pretty cool, actually."

Cas just shrugs and turns his back on the stunning view. "Well, it was a long time ago, before the wars."

He heads back down the slope. Sam lingers, thoughtful.

The next evening, Cas finds a sketchbook and oil pastels in his room. He never says anything to Sam about them; maybe he's self-conscious about Dean finding out. Sam doesn't need a verbal acknowledgement, anyway; the small tug at Castiel's mouth that reaches all the way to his eyes is enough.

So is the dazzling sunset rendered on artist's paper that gets slipped under his door sometime the following day.