Mute 𖤐 Sam Winchester

NINE

"Well, does she?"

Sam looked at his brother, and watched as the older man wiggled his eyebrows with a small smirk on his face. Scoffing, Sam dumped the last bit of his beer and tossed the empty bottle into the cooler.

"Dude, seriously. It's been way too long since you've been laid."

"All right, I'm done." Sam stood up from his chair and folded it up.

Dean turned as he began walking towards the Impala. "I'm serious!"

"No. No, absolutely not."

Joyce didn't even want to get involved in Dean and Sam's bicker. It was because of her, and she frowned.

"Dean, she's not just gonna sit in the car while we play Detective."
"Yes, that's exactly what she's gonna do. Sammy, she can't talk."

"She's still useful, Dean. She knows what she's doing."

Joyce tapped on his shoulder, causing Sam to turn in his seat.

"It's okay, Sam. I don't want to make a big deal."
"You're not making a big deal, Dean is."

Dean stared at him. "Look, she walks in there and they're going to start asking questions before we can even ask any. Nobody freakin' knows sign language!"

As the two began to bicker even more, Joyce felt her blood begin to boil. She understood that Dean was still earning her trust, but she didn't understand why he was discriminating her.

Opening her door, the two brothers stopped arguing as the brunette slid out of the Impala and made her way towards the Sheriff Station. Dean and Sam called her name; while rushing after her.

Joyce entered the station, her phone in her hands as she quickly typed. With Sam and Dean on her heels, she pressed one button; and a voice played:

"I'm Agent Alba and these are my partners."

He rose a brow. "A mute?"

Sam and Dean just nodded.

"Well, I'm not gonna lie. We're damn glad to see you. You guys must come up on stuff like this all the time."

Dean nodded. "Definitely."
"Hell, seen raccoons in rec rooms and bears in swimming pools. But this? You tell me."

The air was silent, but the man only stared back. Dean cleared his throat.

"Where do we start? What, with uh. . . Logging."

"Ice caps."
"Bitcoin."

Joyce scratched the back of her neck as she stuffed her phone into her pocket.

"Obama."

She stared at Dean.

"You know what, maybe you could walk us through the attacks. Any similarities, anything weird?"

"Only thing weird about them was how similar they were. Folks torn clean through. Hearts absent—"

"Hearts absent as in. . .?"
"Consumed, most likely."

"And there were no witnesses?" Dean asked.
"Well, the Town Square attack, the parking lot, those were real late, but the bar? Hell, with how jammed the place was you'd think somebody other than Tommy would've seen someone."

Joyce began to sign, on impulse. "Did Tommy see anything?"

The man seemed to understand sign language.

"Honestly, not much. Now, Tommy ain't exactly what we call a reliable witness. And he's telling anybody who'll listen. He saw some girl go out back with Barker and she got torn up, too."

"So, there was a second victim?"

"Well, sure, except Tommy's a drunk. There's no body, no DNA, no blood trail. Nothing to suggest that."

As another officer approached, they both excused themselves. Joyce turned to the boys, and she signed to Sam.

"Werewolf?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, pretty brazen, even for a wolf. You guys think it was the girl?"

When Joyce made a move for the door, Dean reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder. "And Miss Roboto, let us do the talking, okay?"

Sam sent his brother a look. "Dean."

Joyce quickly typed before pressing play.

"If you're jealous because I did your job better than you while being a mute, don't be afraid to say so, pretty boy."

And with that, Joyce shoved past him and exited the station.

Joyce sat in the Impala later on. When they arrived to the bar that Tommy was located at, she didn't make a move to get out of the car; instead, she remained still with her eyes focused on her window.

"All right. Let's go." Dean said, looking back at Joyce. "You coming?"

The woman sent him a weary look, telling him silently to back off. Dean lifted his hands in an act of surrender before getting out of the car.

Sam turned in his seat and met her eyes. "Ignore him, all right? Dean is. . . Dean. He'll be better when he gets to know you better."

Joyce lifted her hands. "He doesn't trust me, then how do you trust me?"

"Because you helped save him." Sam responded. "And that's trustworthy in my book."

"You can trust me, Sam. But I'm just going to wait here."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, okay. We won't be long."

She saluted him as she sank farther into the backseat.

Oooop, Dean and Joyce got some conflict!!!