Confetti it's a Parade Book 2

Rain Drops

Sam Winchester X Reader

Synopsis: The reader lets the storm soothe her.

"Raindrops on roses," You kept humming to yourself as you perched on the edge of a rickety, wooden bench. You weren't heavy by any means, but the slightest movement from you had the thing wobbling, and you weren't sure how much longer it was going to last. 

The thunder cracked overhead, attempting to draw your attention back to it and not the wooden bench that was trying to send slivers up your legs. You tilted your head, enjoying the cool, misting rain, seeing the lightning light up the sky before another crack of thunder shook the ground your feet were placed on.

You always loved storms, the power, the sounds that came with them. Along with the memories. Your mother loved the storms, always standing at the windows when they came, entranced with their forceful beauty. When they would scare you, she would hum her favorite song, attempting to calm you. But her attention was always on the storm.

After she had died, you began to see what she had seen in the storms. Now, whenever you could, you found yourself outside, in the middle of the storm, or at the window, observing the entertainment nature was providing you. Usually humming the song your mom sang to you.

"Whiskers on kittens." You sang quietly as the next blast of lightning hit straight above you. It blinded you for a moment, and you closed your eyes, your eyelids vibrant colors of yellows and oranges and reds.

As your eyes stayed closed, you felt the rain picking up, the drops growing bigger and bigger, coming down in sheets instead of the slight mist. You knew that you should head inside, that it wasn't safe to sit out here, in the middle of a park, with trees all around you. But it calmed you, and gave you the reminder you desperately needed. That you were human, that you were just a small part in this big universe. That it didn't matter if you couldn't save everyone.

Just the reminder had tears mixing with the raindrops, and you felt yourself shivering as you quickly became soaked from the downpour. Today had been a rough day, the victim dying in your arms. It seemed like fate when the storm had picked up, matching your mood perfectly. Sam and Dean had gone to the bar, using alcohol to drown the pain.

Another lightning strike flashed in the sky, before hitting the tree across the park from you. You could smell the burnt ozone, the smell teasing your nostrils. The thunder followed immediately, shaking your bench. 

Tossing your head back once again, you let the rain wash away all your insecurities, and that's when you heard it. Your name being yelled. It sounded fuzzy and far away, the pounding rain making it hard to hear. 

Thinking you had imagined it, you closed your eyes, letting the rain wash your tears away. Sam and Dean were busy at the bar, probably hitting on the bar tender, or any other pretty girl that looked their way. 

"Y/N!" You heard again, and this time you opened your eyes, turning on the groaning bench until you could see Sam jogging over to you. "Y/N, what the hell are you doing out here?" He yelled to be heard over the next boom of thunder.

His hair was already sticking down on his head, dripping onto his sopping wet coat. His chest was heaving, and he glanced up nervously as the next boom of Thunder sounded close by.

"Relaxing." Was the best answer you could come up with. It was hard describing what storms meant to you, how they reminded you of a simpler life, and all the good things you had once known.

"It's too dangerous. Come get into the car." He pleaded with you, as the rain seemed to come down harder if that was even possible.

"Sam..." You starts to say, but another bolt of lightning, followed by thunder drowned your words.

Without saying another word, Sam grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. You blindly followed him, slipping and sliding on the soaked grass, Sam's hold on you the only thing keeping you on your feet.

It wasn't a long ways to the Impala, but between the pounding rain and the lightning cackling overhead, you think Sam made it in record time.

Sam opened the passenger door, before helping you in. Sliding into the drivers seat, he turned to face you. You were starting to feel the effects of the storm. Your teeth were chattering,  your hair plastered to your forehead.

"Shit." Sam muttered, before leaning over the seat of the car and grabbing the blanket you always kept tucked away back there. He took his time wrapping it around you, tucking it in so that it completely covered your body. He then started the car, letting the heater blow over the two of you, steaming up the windows.

"Y/n, do you know how freaked out I was when I came back to the motel and you were gone? No note, nothing. And in this horrible storm!" Sam exclaimed, waving his arm to punctuate his words. "Why?"

You took a deep breath, everything the storm had kept at bay returning. "Because they always soothe me. They soothed my mom, and it's one of the few things I remember about her."

Sam took in a deep breath, brushing his hand through his damp curls. "You've never talked about your mom."

You shook your head, rain droplets flying everywhere with the movement. You watched as they hit, then slid down the dash, before soaking into the carpet. "What is there to say? I loved her, she was amazing. But she was taken from me too soon. And now, the way I can remember her, and deal with the pain, is to enjoy the storms."

His eyes shimmered with compassion in the fading light, and he reached over, grabbing your hand and stroking the back of it with his thumb. "I understand that. I don't have anything like that to remember my mom by, but Dean does. He doesn't show it, but when we are back at the bunker watch him. He still cuts the crust off of his sandwiches. He told me once that she always did that for him."

Your heart broke for Sam. While you had memories to look back on, things that reminded you of your Mom, he had none. "I'm sorry." You whispered.

"For what?" He asked you, his hand still absently rubbing soothing circles over yours.

You felt your tears start to simmer, threatening to spill over. "For the fact that you didn't have a chance to make memories with your Mom. And for the fact that I made you worry. That wasn't my intention."

"I know it wasn't. But Y/N, the next time you want to watch a storm, to let it soothe you and remind you of your Mom? Maybe you can do if from the window or the porch. Or better yet, the safety of my arms." He said, before sealing your lips to his.