While I slave over my What It Takes fic, I keep getting these ideas that pop into my head and will not go away until I write them. This is another one of those and in fact, there seems to be a long line of these waiting impatiently for their turn. If you like this fic enough, I encourage you to follow it because although it says complete that is because each fic will be complete in its own right but I want them to be all in the same place if that makes any sense. Also, since What It Takes needs more attention, there's no telling how often I will write these little ficlets. Guess you could call this my first curtain! fic. One day I will write how they got to this point, just not yet. And if you recognize this, yeah it's inspired by that commercial about being able to buy your own house. What? It's cute!

I do not own nor am I affiliated with Supernatural, WB, CW, Kripke Enterprises, actors, or other affiliates there of. No profit is being made from this.

Sam never thought much about the rain unless he was stuck out in it during a hunt. Or if they were staying in another crappy motel room, or squatting somewhere where and the roof leaked. Other than that, rain never seemed to warrant a thought. Like snow, wind, fog, sleet and sun, it was just there and didn't make much of a difference until they were hunting.

So with that in mind, it was with some confusion, Sam woke up in the dead of night, wondering why hearing the pitter - patter of rain hitting the roof and the windows was so utterly fascinating. He simply could not fathom why he lay in bed being almost hypnotized by the sound. Even the sound of that same rain draining out of the gutters seemed so awe-inspiring.

Sam rolled to his side. For a moment he studied the profile of the man sleeping beside him. Dean, his brother, turned lover, turned . . . partner? Sam wrinkled his nose. Yes, Dean was his partner in many ways but he didn't like the word in terms of them being together. As in together-together. The type of together that Dean once called "sick". That was before it was necessary. Afterwards, when the necessity ended, they discovered it was what they wanted.

Looking at Dean now, thinking about what led them to this point and what their lives were now, he suddenly understood why listening to the rain was so riveting.

"Dean," he said softly, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder and shaking him slightly. "Dean, wake up."

Sam felt slightly guilty when Dean started, jerking awake almost immediately. Sam knew that these days, Dean slept so much better than he used to. They both had occasional nightmares, which Dean never admitted to. It was part of the hunting life they used to have and for them it also probably had to do with how frequently they lost each other in the past. These days though, instead of Dean's standard three to four hours, he usually slept through the night.

"Wha - wazwrong - where's my knife?" Dean babbled half coherently.

"Nothing," Sam soothed him immediately, "nothing's wrong, it's okay, just . . . just listen."

Dean stilled instantly. They both lay there silently, the sound of the rain increased slightly.

"Okay, I give up, what am I listening to?" Dean asked after a few minutes.

"The rain," Sam said quietly.

Although he couldn't see the details of Dean's face in the dark, Sam could easily imagine the look Dean was giving him. He probably thought that Sam was insane.

The tone of Dean's voice confirmed it, "You woke me up . . . to listen to the rain?"

"It's not just any rain," Sam explained, "it's our rain."

"Our rain?" Dean asked warily.

"Our rain," Sam clarified, "on our roof . . . on our house."

Dean was quiet again for a few beats before correcting him, "Our home."

Sam smiled, "Yeah . . . yeah, our home."

They both stayed still, the rain keeping up its steady pattern. Beating down on their very own roof and hitting their very own windows. Sam sighed in contentment. Maybe this wasn't exactly the "normal" he always envisioned but he couldn't help thinking that this was even better than he ever experienced before and could ever even imagine.

The steady, deep breathing next to him signaled that Dean had fallen back asleep. Sam scooted closer and slipped his arms around him. Dean, unresisting, curled into him, somehow knowing even in sleep that it was Sam holding him. He kissed Dean's temple and settled down into the pillows again.

"I think I love the rain," Sam whispered into Dean's hair before following him into sleep.