I know I haven't been writing recently, but I've been kind of busy struggling through a major depressive episode and breakdown that happened last week. Anyways, so I decided to write about one of my favorite topics - Service Dogs. I am and always will be in awe of these amazing animals and writing about things I love helps me too. I was thinking of how to make it into a story, and decided that, because I also love sign language, I would write a Deaf!Sam AU. This is my first time writing an AU, and it's set Season One because I've been watching that lately... (they were so young and innocent and had no idea what they would go through *crey*) It's pretty short and not that detailed, but it's a start.
Enough of my ramblings; on with the story! Hope it's okay, and please review, I would love to know what you think~

One more thing: to make things easier for me, I've decided that Sam got the dog during Standford and it's just part of their lives now. It's a Golden Retriever called Bones literally because of that episode in Season Five and a Canine Companions for Independence dog, because it's easier to write about a Service Dog organisation I know (see picture). Just bear with me, I'm not the most creative person right now, hopefully I can get back on track soon. So, onward...

Dean sighed as he opened the motel room door to their room.

The case they were chasing in this town was turning out to be more of a dead end than anything, yet people were still turning up dead, eyes wide and terrified, strangled in their own rooms without any evidence of a break in or murder.

But the police did have something right at least - people don't just choke themselves to death like that. It wasn't technically possible.

Sam was sitting on his bed, laptop on his lap and Bones by his side when Dean stepped into the room. The dog raised his head, prompting Sam to glance up too. Dean nodded in his little brother's direction and went to the table to unpack the shopping he had just brought.

Sam yawned and flipped the laptop lid shut, pushing it off his lap. He scratched Bones behind the ear, a tick that he liked, as he yawned widely too, showing his sharp teeth that may give someone the wrong idea about the intelligent and gentle retriever.

Dean glanced up as Sam walked up to him to talk to him in sign.

Did you find anything? Sam asked with a questioning look. Dean shook his head.

No gossip in the store or anything. Dean shrugged. "Maybe this is not really our thing, Sam," he sighed, returning to the shopping. Sam rolled his eyes, having read Dean's lips; which he was skilled at doing as long as the person spoke fairly slowly and looked at him while speaking.

Sam glanced down at the shopping and frowned before tapping Dean on the shoulder so he looked at him. 'Why?' he mouthed, pointing to the whiskey Dean had just unpacked.

The older brother glanced down at it then flashed Sam a grin. We ran out of the good stuff, he replied with one hand. Sam gave him a bitchface and turned around, stalking back to his bed.

He sat down with a huff and Bones gave him a wounded look, not understanding why Sam seemed to be so annoyed. His owner waved a hand in Dean's general direction for an explanation and opened up his laptop again for something to do.

Dean whistled for Bones' attention, and when the dog looked at him, he held up a tin of his food. "Come here and eat while Sam sulks," Dean advised him.

Bones glanced at Sam and back at Dean then, deciding that wasn't a half bad idea, jumped off the bed and wondered over to where his other owner was pouring some dry food into his plastic bowl. Dean put it down next to the fold-up bowl that was always full of water when it was open.

With the sounds of crunching while Bones ate filled the room, Dean sighed again and flopped down on his own bed with a newspaper he had brought, to check anything else.

Sam groaned, not that he could hear it (but he knew Dean could), as he looked at the Tourist Information Office that stood before them. He glanced at Dean, who was standing at the trunk looking for his gun, helplessly and waited until his brother looked at him.

Why are we here again? Sam signed wearily. Dean gave him an exasperated look.

"Quit whinin', bitch," he replied, causing the younger hunter to glare at him. He glanced back at their arsenal and finally saw the glint of his gun. "Gotcha," he muttered, picking it up and stashing it in his leather jacket. He closed the trunk and glanced at Sam, who was giving him yet another bitchface.

Dean rolled his eyes and jerked a thumb towards the building in front of them. "Come on," he grumbled, making sure Sam understood what he said - which he could tell by the roll of his little brother's eyes (again) - and then heading towards the double doors.

Sam huffed out a sigh and glanced down at Bones, who was wearing his blue Canine Companions for Independence vest as they were going into a public building. The retriever simply hung out his tongue and panted happily at him, but it was enough for Sam. He smiled and ruffled Bones' ears before starting forward after his brother.

Inside, Dean was already chatting smoothly to a slightly flustered girl behind the counter. She was nodding at whatever he was saying, and Sam rolled his eyes, leaving the talking to Dean - not that he really had a choice; although he could talk, he had no doubt it sounded awful as he couldn't hear what he was saying, despite Dean's reassurances every time that he sounded fine.

Instead, he walked around the room, looking at leaflets and information booklets. There wasn't much to see. Bones lay perfectly at his feet at he wrinkled his nose at an article in a book about a rumor of a witch that had been going around lately. He rolled his eyes. These people didn't know anything-

Wait. Maybe there was some truth in the writing. He re-read a couple of the sentences at the end, of people who swore they had seen or made contact with the witch, and noticed that, although the article was written a couple of months back, the writers had the same last name of a few of the victims. At least that was something to go on.

He was so busy reading the article that it took a moment to realise that Bones was on his feet and nudging him to pay attention. Sam quickly glanced around and saw Dean waving him over to the counter. Sighing, he took a moment to stroke Bones' head in praise for doing his job before walking over towards Dean.

Dean gave the girl a charming smirk and hedged, "so what were you saying about this rumor?"

"Oh, it's just that some people are suggesting that this witch is causing these weird deaths," she shared eagerly. Dean nodded thoughtfully, and glanced at Sam when he tapped him on the shoulder.

There's accounts of apparent sightings of the witch in here, and the surnames match some of the victims', he signed with one hand while he held out the booklet he had been reading with the other. Dean raised an eyebrow and took it, flicking through the articles quickly.

He glanced back up at the assistant. "Say, uh, the people who wrote these articles? Are they still around?" he asked, pointing to the pages that Sam had been explaining about.

The girl frowned as she scanned the paragraphs and nodded slowly. "I think so. Terribly sad about her sister, though," she added, indicating the first one. Dean glanced at it then at Sam.

We'll start with the first account; it looks like the very first death, he signed briefly, handing his brother back the booklet and waving a hand towards the door to suggest he go outside and read in the car. Sam took it and nodded thoughtfully, automatically turning around and heading out, Bones at his heel.

Dean turned back to the girl for a minute. "Anything else you can tell me about these deaths?" he asked, smiling charmingly at her.

When Dean finally came out to the Impala, a piece of paper with the girl's number in his hand and a triumphant smile, Sam had already used his laptop and fake ID to find out where the woman who wrote the first account lived.

He glanced up when the car rocked as Dean got in, and gave him a bitchface in reply to the paper in his hand. Seriously?

Dean shrugged and glanced at the paper. "Yep," he replied with a wink. Sam rolled his eyes. Again.

Sam sighed and snapped his laptop shut to give Dean his full attention. The woman we're looking for lives at this address, he explained, showing Dean the address he had typed into his phone, seeing as there was no paper on hand (evidently Dean had had some though).

His brother read the street name and started the car. Saw it on the way around, he signed before pulling out and heading to the house.

Sam glanced at Bones, who was spread across the back seat, napping. He decided to keep his vest on for a minute, as if the woman was in, they would need to interview her. If she wasn't then they could just break in and take a look around. That was usually easier, depending on the neighborhood.

Dean soon located the house and parked the Impala at the end of the street so it wasn't conspicuous. He glanced at Sam as they got out of the car and waited until he looked at him before signing, wear your hearing aids in case we get in trouble.

Sam was about to protest, but Dean ordered, "now," and he sighed, reaching into the glove compartment to get his hearing aids. They didn't help a lot, but it did mean he wasn't completely deaf as he practically was without.

He gave Dean a look and sarcastically signed, happy now?

"Very," Dean replied dryly, glancing away at the house they were headed to. Sam rolled his eyes and opened the back door to let Bones out, taking hold of his leash. The dog happily panted up at him and Sam, as always, found himself smiling as he fondly stroked Bones' ears before following Dean to the house.

The older hunter glanced back at Sam as he knocked on the door. There was no answer after five minutes, despite Dean's insistent knocking, and he gave Sam an I-told-you-so look before bending down and unlocking the door with his lockpick.

To their surprise, the door easily unlocked and opened, and Dean gave Sam a warning glance as he pulled out his gun. Sam nodded and followed suite, taking off Bones' lead at the same time and putting it in his pocket. It was easier for them all to hunt without being tied to the dog, and Bones always stayed by his side regardless of duty.

They carefully stepped inside the house, looking around. The interior didn't looked lived in at all. There were cobwebs in all the corners and the ceiling and floors were dark with damp. Dean wrinkled his nose against the smell as they moved in.

He glanced at Sam and gestured with his gun for him to go upstairs. Sam nodded and carefully took the creaking stairs two at a time, Bones following. Dean watched him until he was out of sight and they continued to the kitchen of the house.

Upstairs, it was even creepier; the floor protested with every step Sam took and a few doors creaked. Although Sam couldn't hear these sounds well at all, the fact that Bones kept turning his head to listen told him that there was more than he could hear.

The dog suddenly growled loudly, so Sam could hear it, and stared, hackles raised, at a creaking door to the left of them. Sam took the hint and advanced slowly towards it, gun out. He pushed the door open slightly and waited, watching Bones, for a reaction.

Bones didn't move, so Sam judged it safe to enter. He eased the door open with his gun and looked in the room. It was just as dank and dark as the rest of the house, and Sam doubtfully glanced down at the dog.

The hesitation cost him. Suddenly there was a woman in front of him; she looked like the woman from the picture at the bottom of the article, but uglier. Sam didn't have time to react as she dragged him into the room and tossed him at a mirror on the other side of it.

He landed with a groan, sharp shards raining down on him, as Bones began barking. The witch turned to him with a hiss, but he was smarter than just standing there, and he immediately turned tail to get help - Dean.

Consciousness wavering, Sam tried to pull himself up and look at the advancing witch, but he couldn't find his gun and he couldn't see, his vision greying out, and the loud smash from the mirror was repeating itself in his ears, because a loud noise like that in silence could mess them up for days, and there was nothing else...

Then there was a growl and a rush of golden fur as Bones abandoned his hunt for help and went to the more urgent rescue of his master. As he brought the witch down, keening, with a scratched up leg, he started to bark loudly, attracting Dean's attention from downstairs.

Dena heard the barking and the scuffling of a fight and, having had no luck downstairs, immediately sprinted up to the second floor. He followed the sound of Bones and entered the room just in time to aim his gun and put a bullet in the witch's head. She didn't even see it coming.

Satisfied the threat was dead, Bones quickly jumped off her and hurried over to Sam, whining. Dean took the hint and followed him, crouching down in front of his brother, who was on hands and knees, covered in cuts from the mirror shards that were littered around him.

Bones licked Sam's face to let him know they were there, and the kid jumped, wincing as the wounds on his face and arms burned from the movement.

"Sammy? Hey, look at me," Dean coaxed him, needing to know how badly he was hurt. Sam ought to be able to hear him at least a bit, due to the hearing aids that Dean had made him put in.

Sam slowly eased himself back until he was sitting on the floor, and slowly raised his head to squint at Dean, who gave him an encouraging smile.

"That's good, Sam; did you hit your head?" Dean signed as he spoke so Sam would understand. After a second, his little brother winced and nodded, bringing up a hand with a grimace to rub the back of his head.

Dean pulled it away and ran his own hand around the back of Sam's head. Gently, he probed a small cut on a lump that he found, and glanced at his fingers. There was some blood, but it thankfully didn't seem too serious.

He leaned back so Sam could see him and explained in speech and sign, "it doesn't look too bad, bet it hurts like a bitch though." Sam nodded and winced again, automatically reaching out a hand for Dean to grasp and pull him up.

"Okay?" Dean made sure Sam was steady before releasing him, just taking a light hold on his arm to lead him out of the house. Sam nodded again to reassure Dean and gave a half-hearted thumbs up. Dean smiled worriedly before leading the way out, Bones in the lead.

The door to their motel room opened as the two brothers stumbled in. "Here," Dean murmured, lowering Sam down on his bed. Sam nodded his thanks as Bones jumped up beside him for comfort and began licking his wounds.

Look at me, Dean signed sternly, as Sam was avoiding his eyes. The kid sighed and finally met Dean's eyes. He nodded in approval at the equal and reactive pupils; Sam barely had a concussion.

"You'll live," he informed Sam, who gave him a half-hearted bitchface. Dean then got the equiptment for cleaning Sam's various cuts and checked him over for bruises. Satisfied all his little brother needed was some rest, he pushed Sam down on the bed and simply signed, sleep.

He agreed instantly and settled into a comfortable position with Bones snuggling in his side before quickly dropping off from exhaustion. Dean smiled and reached down to take off Bones' vest; something he had forgotten about.

He put the vest on the bedside table as Bones watched him tiredly, then ruffled their companion's head and went to his own bed.

Lying down, he allowed himself to close his eyes for a minute too. Bones wasn't just a hearing dog for Sam; he was a guardian, a companion, and family. Dean smiled to himself. The hunt could have gone a lot worse, but it hadn't, and so he could relax for the moment. Bones was on the job.