A/N: Hey everyone! So here is another supernatural one-shot! This time with Sam and Dean! And a flashback to weechester!
I hope you enjoy it! I'd love to hear your thoughts!
Enjoy! :)
Sam and Dean were finally able to have a night to themselves for the first time in months. No hunts they had to go on, no leads to follow, so they spent the night watching stupid movies and drinking bears at Bobby's. After arguing about who was going to pick the movie for them to watch, the decided to settle it with a game of rock, papers, scissors. And as usual Sam won. Which meant they were watching a Bruce Lee movie.
As Sam placed the DVD in the player, the skies finally opened up and it started to rain outside. Dean smiled knowing the rain will save him from having to get the Impala washed. While Sam walked back to his seat, Bobby's dark living room light up with a bright flash of lightning. Sam stood up straight, eyes wide, staring out the window after a few seconds he took a deep breath and sat next to Dean on the couch. Moments later there was a loud crack of thunder that made Sam grip the arm of the couch so tight Dean thought he may rip the entire arm off.
Dean caught all of the subtle movements Sam had done out of the corner of his eye. There were few things that his baby brother was scared of; clowns was one, losing Dean forever, and thunder. Dean always poked fun about Sam's fear of clowns, but his fear of thunder was something that Dean never touched upon. Sam was always ashamed of being afraid thunder; "It's something four year olds are scared of, Dean." He would say exasperated about his irrational fear.
As Sam got older and he was more ashamed of his fear Dean would always try to reassure him that he would "grow out of the fear." But, it has yet to happen. Dean, being the big brother that he is, to this day still does his best to keep Sam preoccupied during thunder storms.
After the first crack of thunder, Dean turned the volume on the movie up hoping the loud action sounds would distract Sam the thunder. That attempt had failed for the few times thunder cracked and Sam's skeleton almost erupted through his skin. Dean watched him curious as to why tonight's storm was hitting him worse than other times.
Sam gets up from the couch to get a refill of beers for Dean, Bobby and himself. As he's placing the bottles on the counter another crack of thunder erupts causing Sam to almost send a bottle crashing to the ground. Sam places the bottle on the counter and runs his hands through his hair in exasperation.
Dean slowly gets up and meets Sam in the kitchen.
"You alright, Sammy?" Dean asks, in a low voice.
"I'm fine Dean." He says, not even bothering to look his brother in the eye.
Sam turns and leaves to go back to the living room. Dean knows Sam isn't fine, but he chooses not to press the matters any further.
Hours later, after Sam and Bobby have gone to bed, Dean lies on the couch, in the living room, staring out the big window behind him. He watches at the big, round raindrops pound against the glass and the sky gets illuminated by another flash of lightning.
Dean remembers all those times when he and Sam were younger, and stuck in the motels during a rain storm. Dean would finally get Sammy into bed, and asleep after hours trying to reassure him it is going to be okay. Dean would finally lie in the bed opposite and get some sleep. But, even back then he was never able to sleep fully through the night. Always awake enough to know if Sam needed him.
After a few more hours, of laying through bouts of thunder and lightning, he remembers watching Sam slowly slide out of bed and quietly pad his way over to Dean. Holding his stuffed puppy tightly against his chest, Sam would poke Dean's shoulder in an attempt to wake him up.
Dean would grumble, like any older sibling about getting woken up in the middle of the night, but the small pout and scared puppy dog eyes on his baby brother was enough to make him stop in seconds. Sam would tell him he was scared of the thunder and Dean would lift Sam up onto the bed next to him, tucking him carefully under the blankets.
Sam would rest his tiny head on Dean's chest, still hugging his stuffed puppy close to him. Dean would then launch into stories about their mom. Which would eventually lull Sammy back to sleep, and eventually Dean, who was happy to relive the memories of their mother.
Dean rolls over on the couch and catches a glimpse of Sam's huge silhouette in the light of the bathroom down the hallway. As another flash of lightning and crack of thunder happen Sam's whole frame flinches so much Dean thinks Sam's bones may jump out of his skin.
Dean waits until Sam returns to the spare bedroom and decides to follow and see Sam.
"Sammy?" Dean whispers, peeking his head into the doorway.
There is no response.
"Sam?"
"What Dean?" Sam groans, his large figure shifting under the thin blanket covering the bed.
"You okay?" Dean asks, walking into the bedroom.
"I'm fine, Dean." Sam says groggily sitting up.
As he sits up he flinches from another bout of thunder, and slams his fists into the rickety mattress underneath him.
"Dammit." He groans.
"Yeah, you're alright." Dean says sarcastically, "Why are-"
"I don't know why it's so bad tonight, Dean!" Sam snarls, "Sometimes it's just worse then others."
Dean watches his little brother scowl angrily at the mattress. He suddenly gets an idea and walks to the corner of the room and moves the giant armchair to the foot of Sam's bed.
"What are you doing?" Sam asks, pushing a piece of hair out of his face.
"Lie down." Dean insists, sitting in the armchair and kicking his feet up on the end of the bed.
"What?" Sam says, raising his eyebrows curiously.
"Just lie down, Sammy."
Too tired to fight the strange request, Sam lies down and listens as Dean starts to tell him stories about their mom. It's the same stories he's heard hundreds of times, but still find comfort in them. It also reminds him of the nights when Dean would tell him the stories during thunder storms when they were younger.
Finally when Dean realizes Sam has finally drifted off to sleep, he gets off of the armchair and pulls the blanket up over Sam's shoulders.
"Night Sammy." He whispers, squeezing Sam's shoulder.
Dean returns down the hallway, and falls face first into the couch, to fall asleep not to long after. Still thinking about the memories of his mother.