Title: Rain
Rating: PG-13
Author: Gen
Disclaimer: Anyone or anything that you recognize does NOT belong to me. Thank you and good night.
Summary: She never sleeps when it's raining. D/L. One shot.
A/N: Response to a non-challenge. What can I say, I ran with it. I had posted this on DLC a long time ago and I guess I forgot to post it here. Sorry.
Challenge: Starting line: She always hated the rain. Ending line: They watched as raindrops fell from the sky, each one telling a story.
Let the rain fall down
And wake my dreams
Let it wash away
My sanity
'Cause I wanna feel the thunder
I wanna scream
Let the rain fall down
I'm coming clean, I'm coming clean
--'Come Clean' Hilary Duff
She always hated the rain. Rain brought memories of a terror filled night, the smell of copper and the glint of moonlight off sharp metal. She hated those memories, the ones that kept her awake at night; the ones that caused her to work long past her shifts had ended.
It was raining when they left the lab together. Raining as they shared a cab. Raining as they ran up the stairs to his apartment, fell through his door, shrugged off their soaking jackets. It was raining when he kissed her, both of their faces dripping, her body shivering from both the rain and the feelings his lips gave her. It was raining as his arms slipped around her waist, as hers went around his neck. Raining as they made their way to his bathroom, as he turned the hot water on full blast, as she slowly stripped off her wet clothes. It was raining when they stepped into the steam and under the pounding water. It was raining when they stepped out, the water now cold, the steam having dissipated. It was raining as they made their way to his bedroom, moving as one. It was raining as the moved together, racing each other to completion. Raining as she sobbed into his chest, as he held her close, as she fought her demons.
It stopped raining for awhile after that. They slept during that time, sated and exhausted from work and play. The only sounds they didn't hear were the sirens, the traffic, and the raindrops dripping from the roof.
She awoke after only two hours of sleep. She knew she needed more rest, but she feared what her mind would show her if she fell back into Dreamworld. She slid out of his bed, grabbing a shirt from his closet, careful not to wake him. It was raining again, the kind of rain that would make evidence collection a living hell tomorrow. She gathered their still wet clothes from his bathroom and dropped them in his hamper, determined to do them tomorrow.
She padded into his kitchen, stomach growling softly. She realized that she hadn't eaten since lunch the day before when he had taken her to the Chinese food place she loved so much. The memory of feeding him sweet and sour chicken with chopsticks flashed across her mind and she smiled.
She made herself a cup of tea, filling her mug with hot water and a teabag and popping it into the microwave. Not the best, she thought, but it would do for now. She didn't want to risk the chance of waking him up with the loud whistle of the kettle. So she settles for instant tea. Chamomile because it's supposed to be soothing, and she needs it cause her blood is humming still from the remnants of her nightmares.
She's tired, but she can't sleep. Never could sleep when it was raining. It was hell on her in college, especially around spring finals. Gave her a way to study more, but it was hell on her internal clock. She remembers going home after graduating and sleeping for almost twenty-four hours straight. Her grandparents almost called an ambulance when she wouldn't wake up. But she never sleeps when it's raining.
Along with her tea, she grabs an apple from the door of his refrigerator, and heads to his living room. Grabbing the remote from the coffee table she flips the TV on and quickly mutes it. She doesn't need the sound; she knows nothing is on at…what time is it anyway? Late at night? Early in the morning? She flips to the weather channel, only to catch the time and maybe to see if more rain was coming. Yep.
She bites into her apple and juice drips down her chin. A clap of thunder resounds and she finds that she has buried herself in the corner of the couch farthest away from his windows. She's staring at the pane of glass, watching the rain pound against it. Lightening flashes across her vision and she finds herself remembering a childhood game. She counts the seconds between the flash of light and the peal of thunder that she knows is coming. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Four Missis-- She can't even get past four before the boom shakes the windows. She continues this game for several more minutes, trying to decide if the storm is coming or going.
She hears him slowing padding towards her. Her head twists to find him standing in the doorway to his bedroom, wearing a pair of low hung pajama pants. He's rubbing sleep out of his eyes, his tongue coming out to wet his lips. He asks her an unspoken question, about rain and her past and whether or not she needs him right now.
She doesn't answer cause she doesn't have to, he already knows the answer. He comes to sit next to her on his couch and she leans forward so he can sit behind her. She leans back against his bare chest and his arms wrap around her. He steals a bite of her apple, but she doesn't mind cause it was his apple anyway. Her tea's gone cold now, but she didn't really want it anyway, just wanted something to do with her hands.
More peals of thunder crash and lightening flits across the sky, dancing between falling raindrops and grey clouds. His arms tighten around her, keeping her safe. He knows this New York weather; he's lived here all his life, so he knows that by tomorrow, this'll all have passed. But he also knows that she's not used to this, not the city rain, and plus she hates rain, so he sits there, comforting her. The TV has been forgotten, remote control lost between the sofa cushions and they both just stare out the window, through the slatted blinds. They watched as raindrops fell from the sky, each one telling a story.
