Sammy had dragged him into another art gallery.

Dean hated art. With a passion.

"Dean! Dean! There's an exhibit of this new artist and they're so cool! And they're here at the gallery so you can talk to them and get tips!"

Good luck to Sammy. The only painting Dean ever did was retouching the paint on his beloved '67 Chevy Impala.

But hey, Sammy should have hopes and dreams. Dean's hopes and dreams crashed and burnt like the fire that killed his mother when he was nine.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Urged Sammy, tugging his brother along by the sleeve of his vintage, brown leather jacket.

As they whisked past the notice board for visits by artists, Dean caught sight of the name.

'Castiel Novak'

Right, he had a name.

As they reached the third level, Dean was gasping for breath.

When they entered the big hall, Sammy's eyes grew wider and shone brighter.

A man sat in the middle of the room, talking to a boy of about five.

"Can I go talk to him?"

"Look at the pictures first. Have some idea of what he does before you go and gush."

They made their slow process around the hall, gazing up at the canvas oil prints.

Sammy ran ahead, looking at one of a pond.

Suddenly he gasped.

"Dean! Dean! Look!"

Dean sighed and tore his gaze away from the sketch of a huge eye.

He strode up to Sammy and peered at the picture.

It was focused on a man, hand outstretched, feeding ducks in a large lake, massive bowing willows surrounding the scene.

It was beautiful, but that wasn't why Sammy was calling him over.

The man had dark sandy hair and was wearing a soft brown jacket. His legs were jean-clad and slightly bowed.

Dean gasped.

It was him.

There was a slight laugh behind him. Both brothers whipped around.

The man had moved on from the child and was standing behind them.

"Hello, I'm Castiel Novak. What are your names?"

Dean didn't waste time.

"Whose this?" he demanded, jabbing a finger at the canvas.

"I painted that in a park not far from here, the man..." Castiel trailed off, looking properly at the man in front of him.

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

"Umm..."

There was a silence.

"What did you call it?" Sammy asked excitedly.

Dean fought the urge to face-palm.

"Gift of the Gods." Castiel said softly, still staring into Dean's eyes.

"Why?"

"Because at that angle and in the lighting, it looked like he was."

"Next time, could ya ask?"

"Next time?"

"Of course."

I want to sleep, but my brother has friends over.

Eh, well, more chapters for you lot.

Fez.