Characters: Sam and Dean (Gen)
Summary: 5x100 drabbles on raining, from beginning to end.
Author's Notes: Written for the supernatural100 challenge on "Rain." Late, but there was so much that could be said.
Mommy said to stay out of puddles, but Dean loved them. He liked the rain, the feeling of it on his face. Sometimes he'd lean his head back and let raindrops fall into his mouth, and they didn't taste like water. Not bathtub water, anyway.
It rained one day as they walked back from the grocery store.
Smack. Smack. Smick. Smack. Splash! Splash!
His hood slid down over his eyes as he raised his head.
"Not in the puddles, honey."
"Rain boots?" he said.
They bought yellow ones later, and he spent the afternoon stomping happily through the yard.
They were on one of Dad's trips— gone for the weekend, not moving away.
The car streamed slickly down the highway, the whish of tire noise and weep-skronk of windshield wipers forming a quiet rhythm against the backdrop of the wet, gray day.
Sam had stopped looking out the front window hours ago—nothing there but fields and headlights, with a tree or farmhouse to break the pattern. Lying down in the backseat, head pillowed against Dean's leg, he clutched his blanket.
Drops splattered and slipped in tiny streams down the glass as the storm and the car continued on.
It was raining again—in September. Seemed like it was always raining anymore.
One week. More exactly, seven days, two hours and fourteen minutes since Sam left them. Not that Dean was counting, but he couldn't stop—couldn't not be aware of the distance between then and… now.
They were still at the same motel. Should've moved on, but they hadn't. Dean didn't dare ask why-- Sam's name was now off-limits.
He was afraid they'd leave, and how would Sam find them then?
But then Dean worried that it wouldn't even matter. Sam was gone. Splintered off.
So very… gone.
This was not how Sam thought change would come.
The only change he'd planned for was law school. The rest of it-- Stanford, Jess—was supposed to stay. The seamless path to his future was set.
In the car again with Dean—being pulled back into everything he'd left before—Sam remembered earlier trips and this feeling of inertia. He remembered the endlessness of the highway and a life that belonged to his family but never to him.
Rain streaming down the windshield mirrored the tracks on his face just then.
Back in spite of himself… he already wanted out.
Dean's almost gotten used to it being only Sam.
It had been for most of a year anyway, back before. But he'd had the possibility of it being all three of them, someday. The whole family again, the way it should have been, used to be… wasn't.
It was lonely, just him and Dad. Always this huge, gaping absence of Sam, and no more kidding around about anything.
Drizzle coats the Impala, washing away the dust of the empty road.
It's not as empty inside the car now. The ache is hollow, and it's different… but it's better.
------ fin ------