It was raining the night of the fire, Dean always found a sort of morbid humour in that, rain staining the ground with water soaking the grass to its roots and yet the fire burned on. It destroyed his home and burnt down his life leaving nothing but him standing in the ashes holding his crying brother as his dad spoke to the firemen who had managed to put out the flames with no help from the rain that was still coming down. Heavier now, it was eerie almost calming it did nothing to help but hide the tears that were falling from his tired eyes. Dean was four when he found out he didn't like rain

It was raining the night he finally couldn't take his dad anymore, it was the final straw when he hit Sam, his dad could punch him all he liked, hit him until he felt better about everything, drink himself to sleep and wake up surround by beer bottles, but the second he laid a hand on Sam dean already had the bags half packed. He waited till their dad was drunk enough to not realise what was happening outside of the brown bottle he clutched to his chest and he stole the keys to the impala. Not really stole, the car was his now, a birthday present, one of the only good things his father ever did for him, he filled the boot with the life he and Sam were so used to packing up and dragging on the road, put the now asleep Sam in the back seat and drove.

It was raining the night Dean entered Bloomfield for the first time, a nice town, similar to Lawrence that had that sort of homey feel. The kind that makes you stop and breathe the air and listen to the noises because this is where you're going to live. He stopped at a motel just on the outside of the town just after the big green sign told you goodbye and hoped you had a nice time. Dean stopped just outside that nice warm feeling of home and booked a room, he pulled Sam out of the car and put him into the itchy sheets of the comfortable enough bed. Dean dreamt of the fire that night, he dreamt of when it all started to go wrong, he dreamt of the heat and the eerie sense of calm that the rain brought, he woke up back aching from the uncomfortable couch, head aching from the nightmare and stared out the motel room window it wasn't the same rain, it took his brain a moment to realise that, it wasn't the rain from that night but it was rain. Dean hated rain.

It was raining the next day, the day Dean bought a house for Sam and him in Bloomfield, small and affordable and maybe slightly crappy, bought with all the savings he had. It was raining the day he watched Sam's face light up because he got his own room for the first time since he was 6 months old. It was raining the day Dean starting trying to paste the broken pieces of his life back together again. It was raining the day everything started getting better. Dean hated the rain, but for today, he decided to put up with it.