Glossolalia

glos·so·la·li·a -- noun. Incomprehensible speech in an imaginary language, sometimes occurring in a trance state, an episode of religious ecstasy, or schizophrenia. From www.dictionary.com.

*****



“Well, I don’t see why I can’t.”



“Because it’s ridiculous. And paranoid. Even Dad wasn’t this paranoid, Dean.”



“I hate to be the one to say this to you, Sammy, but which of us is still alive?” Dean looked over at his brother meaningfully.



Sam threw his hands up in exasperation, banging his knuckles on the roof of the Impala. He grunted in annoyance.



“People are going to think you’re crazy.”



“Yeah, but I’ll be safe, and so will you. There’s no talkin’ me out of this, so stop even trying, okay?”



“But you can’t say it to every person we meet! How can you ever smoothly work that into a conversation?”



“Doesn’t matter.” Dean was immovable.



Sam glared at the side of Dean’s head. Dean drove, deliberately oblivious to Sam’s consternation.  



**



“Thank you for letting us speak to the witnesses again, Ms. Parker,” Sam said to the nursing home aide, a woman in her thirties in a set of whimsically flowered scrubs. She smiled at Sam.



“Oh, it’s really no problem, Detective Collen. Besides, they love a break in their routine. It’s a treat for them to meet new people!”



“My partner is already in the activity room, maybe we should meet him there?” Sam suggested. He walked with the nurse and stopped cold in the doorway at the sight that greeted his eyes.



Dean was going around the circle, shaking hands like a demented politician and introducing himself.  



“Hi, I’m Detective Elliot, I wanted to ask you a few questions about the incident the other night, if that’s all right. But first, before we get started – Christo.”



Over and over again. Each time, the recipient of the handshake would get a confused look on their face, and a winning smile from Dean, who then moved on to his next victim. Sam snapped his mouth shut.



“You’ll have to excuse my partner, he has this condition –“ Sam started.



“But what is he saying…?” the nurse said faintly, confused.



“Tourette’s.” Sam said firmly. He strode into the room, ready to grab Dean by the collar and drag him out before he did any more damage.