13. Sneaking out

James looked at Sam and said flatly, "It was a fire accident."

Sam stared at James for a moment, then said, "You're really bad at lying, you know."

James frowned, surprised by how quickly Sam caught on. He wondered if Sam and Dean had already visited his house and found something. Were they testing him?

Sam didn't wait for an answer. "I've known you for a few years, James. You always avoid eye contact and tap your fingers on something when you're lying. Like you're doing right now."

James glanced down at his hand. He hadn't even realized he was tapping his fingers on the edge of the bed. Frustrated, he sighed. Sam was sharp, just as James remembered from what little he knew about Supernatural.

"Stop lying to me," Sam said firmly, his voice low but clear. "Tell me what actually happened."

James folded his arms across his chest. "Fine, I'll tell you if you tell me first—what kind of business does your family run, and what were you and your brother doing all this time?"

The words hung in the air. James didn't look away, arms crossed. He knew he was being stubborn, but if he was going to share his secret, he wanted Sam to trust him enough to share his own.

Sam went quiet, clearly caught off guard. James could see him thinking it over, and he noticed Dean glaring at Sam, shaking his head slightly as if to say, Don't do it.

After what felt like a long moment, Sam ignored Dean's silent warning. He pulled up a chair and sat next to James. "Alright," Sam said softly, his voice serious. "I'll tell you the truth."

Sam looked at Dean one last time. Dean muttered something under his breath and crossed his arms, stepping back as though to stay out of it.

"Alright," Sam began, his voice steady but quiet. "My dad, my brother, and I—we're hunters. We hunt supernatural beings—ghosts, demons, vampires, you name it. It's what we do. It's what we've always done."

James didn't say anything, his face unreadable as Sam kept going.

"Our mom died when I was a baby," Sam said, his voice tightening. "A demon killed her. After that, my dad... he spent his life hunting it. He trained us to fight, to hunt. Dean and I grew up learning how to kill monsters and protect people from things they don't even know exist."

Sam paused, watching James's reaction before continuing. "I left it all behind to go to college. I wanted a normal life, far away from hunting. That's when I met you. But... recently, I've been pulled back into it. My Dad disappeared during a hunt.....and we were trying to find him."

He stopped talking, as if deciding he had said enough. Then he sat straighter, meeting James's eyes.

"That's the truth, James. All of it. Now it's your turn."

The room went quiet again, heavy with the weight of what Sam had just shared.

James stared at him, his thoughts racing. He already knew something like this as this was the start of the story line, but hearing it directly from Sam made it feel even more real. Although he didn't remember much about this show, hearing it like this or experiencing may help him recall the parts of the first season he had watched.

Sam's face showed how nervous he was, waiting to see how James would react.

James took a deep breath, gripping the edge of the bed. "Okay," he said finally. "You told me your truth. Now I'll tell you mine."

James opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Dean interrupted with a sharp, "Wait, wait, wait. What's with this dull reaction? You just easily believed him?"

James frowned at Dean's skepticism. "Well, he wasn't lying," James said evenly. "When Sam said all that, I could tell he meant it."

Dean gave him a doubtful look, folding his arms tighter across his chest. "Alright, maybe he wasn't lying, but come on. If any other person heard that story, they'd have called Sammy here batshit crazy. I mean, ghosts? Demons? Hunting monsters? It's not exactly what most people hear at the dinner table."

Sam glanced at James, clearly curious how he'd respond. James felt the weight of both their stares, their unspoken questions hanging in the air.

He hesitated, looking down at his hands. His fingers were still trembling slightly from earlier. He muttered, "I would've said the same thing a few days ago."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "What changed?"

James gave a heavy sigh, his chest tightening as memories from that night rushed back like a flood he couldn't stop. The images were burned into his mind—his mother's screams, the overwhelming heat, his father's desperate attempts to protect him, and the thing that stood amidst it all, watching like it enjoyed the chaos.

"My parents didn't die in a fire accident," James finally said, his voice low and laced with pain. He raised his head to meet their eyes. "I saw it. I saw everything. And it wasn't normal. It wasn't human. It was... something else."

Dean leaned forward, his gaze sharp, while Sam stayed still, his expression a mixture of concern and understanding.

"It was a person... or maybe not," James said, trying to put into words what still didn't make sense.. "A ghost? A monster? I don't know what it was. But it had these... yellow eyes. Bright, terrifying, glowing yellow eyes and it could do... telekinesis."

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance, their expressions shifting to something James couldn't quite place.

James continued, his voice shaking slightly as he told them the entire thing.

Dean and Sam exchanged a look, their expressions serious. Then Dean spoke quietly, "Do you think it's the same demon?"

Sam looked at James, his voice softer but firm. "James, I need to tell you something. My mom… she died in the same way. She was stuck to the ceiling, surrounded by fire. After that, my dad, Dean, and I spent our whole lives searching for the demon that did it. It's the reason we became hunters."

James blinked, the words sinking in. He felt a strange connection to Sam, knowing their pain was the same.

Dean broke the silence. "Do you mind if we go to your house? There might be something left behind—marks or clues. It could help us figure out if it's the same demon."

Sam frowned, clearly not happy with Dean rushing things. "Dean, give him a moment. He just told us—"

James cut him off, his voice shaking but determined. "It's fine, Sam. I want to go and I don't think I can do it alone without going crazy."

Sam looked at him closely. "Are you sure? You've been through a lot. Are you okay to do this?"

James took a deep breath, clenching his fists. "I can walk," he said firmly. "Let's just go before I lose my nerve."

Dean smirked a little but stayed serious. "Alright, sneaking out is what we're good at."

"I'm sure," James replied, his voice steady.

Sam placed a hand on James's shoulder, his tone reassuring. "We'll help you through this," he said. "Whatever it takes, we'll figure out what happened. And if it's the same demon, we'll stop it. Together."

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