James and Sam sat in the Camaro, following Dean and Ash, who were ahead of them in the Impala. The plan to enjoy Las Vegas had been cut short, but James didn't mind much. He leaned back in his seat, watching the Nevada desert give way to California landscapes. Sam, in the driver's seat, decided to fill the silence with stories from the past few hunts.
Sam laughed before continuing. "After splitting with you, we hit Lake Manitoc, dealing with a spirit drowning people. That one was rough—putting the spirit to rest felt more personal, like… unresolved grief, y'know?"
As the car hummed along the highway, Sam's tone shifted when he mentioned Kansas, where they'd encountered their mother's spirit. "We were at our old house. For the first time, I saw her," he said quietly. "She saved me and Dean from a poltergeist."
James frowned, feeling the weight in Sam's words. "Man, that must've been something."
"It was," Sam said softly. "It gave me a sense of peace, but it also stirred up a lot of questions."
After a pause, James hesitated before asking, "When you…. talked to Jessica after her death....did she mention how she died?"
Sam's jaw tightened as he exhaled. "Yeah. But it wasn't like I hoped. She didn't remember anything about how she died... "
James nodded, sensing Sam's pain. Trying to lighten the mood, he asked, "Do you ever regret not taking the LSAT? You could've been living the high life as a lawyer by now."
Sam chuckled. "Every time I'm knee-deep in a haunted sewer, I think about it. But honestly? As messed up as it is, I can't imagine walking away from this life now."
James grinned. "Still, trading ghosts for courtrooms doesn't sound half bad."
Sam laughed. "Yeah, except I don't think they let you carry rock salt shotguns into a courtroom."
They both cracked up, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics. Sam explained some of their crazier hunts, like a demon-possessed airplane in Chicago, a killer scarecrow in Burkittsville, and a spirit haunting a psych hospital.
As they neared Berkeley, James shifted the conversation. "So, this Colt your dad's chasing—does he really think it can kill anything?"
Sam shrugged. "He swears by it. Says it can take down the demon that killed our mom. If he's right, it's our best shot."
James stared out the window thoughtfully. "And you're okay waiting around for him to call? Doesn't that drive you nuts?"
"More than you know," Sam admitted. "But Dad's got his own way of doing things. I think he's trying to keep us out of the crossfire."
James leaned back, mulling over Sam's words. "Gotta say, man, having family in this life sounds like a double-edged sword."
Sam gave a small smile. "Yeah, but it's what keeps us grounded. Even when it gets ugly."
By the time they pulled into Berkeley, the sun was dipping low, bathing the city in warm, golden light. Dean and Ash were waiting for them outside a diner near the edge of town, both looking impatient.
Dean leaned against the Impala, arms crossed. "Finally. What, did you stop for pie or something?"
"Sorry," Sam called as he got out of the Camaro. "Some of us actually obey speed limits, Dean."
Ash chuckled. "Speed limits are just suggestions, dude.
Dean leaned against the Impala, arms crossed, and nodded toward the diner. "Dad says he's got some leads here. Five people have died in two weeks, drained of blood. Looks like vampires. Ash and I will head to the police station to confirm if it's really them. You two find us a motel and get everything ready to deal with the vamps."
Sam nodded, already thinking about what they'd need—machetes, dead man's blood, maybe even UV lights if they could manage. James stood quietly, lost in thought.
As Dean handed out jobs, James's mind wandered to Sarah and Nick, old friends who were studying in Berkeley. It had been almost a year since he'd last talked to them. Sarah had called a few months ago to check on him, but their conversation had been short and awkward. Since then, he'd been ignoring their calls, along with the ones from Mia, Kevin, and Ethan.
It wasn't because he didn't care. In fact, he cared too much. He knew how dangerous his life was, filled with demons and stuff. If those creatures ever figured out how much his friends meant to him, they might use them to hurt or manipulate him. James couldn't let that happen.
So, he decided to cut ties, hoping his friends would give up and move on. But they hadn't. Every day, one of them would call, leaving voicemails that were either full of concern or just everyday updates about their lives. James felt guilty for shutting them out, but he convinced himself it was the only way to keep them safe.
He sighed, telling himself it was better not to see Sarah or Nick here in Berkeley.
"James?" Sam's voice pulled him back to the moment.
"Yeah?" James looked at him.
"You okay? You've been quiet."
"I'm fine," James said, forcing a small smile. "Just thinking about the plan. Motel and prep. Got it."
Dean gave him a quick glance but didn't press. "Good. Don't take too long, and try not to get into trouble."
Dean and Ash got into the Impala and drove off. James looked down the street, knowing the university wasn't far. A part of him wanted to call Sarah or Nick, just to say hi. But the stronger part of him—the part hardened by all he'd seen—pushed the thought away.
"It's safer this way," he muttered as he and Sam got back in the Camaro.
Sam didn't say much as they drove toward the nearest motel. The silence filled the car until Sam finally broke it. "You know, if there's something on your mind, you can talk about it."
James hesitated before answering. "Just thinking about some old friends I haven't seen in a while."
Sam nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I get that. It's hard to keep friendships in this life. Sometimes it feels easier to let them go."
"Yeah," James said softly. "Easier, but it doesn't make it hurt any less."
Sam chuckled lightly. "Dean tried once. There was this girl, Cassie. He really liked her, but... well, you can guess how that ended."
"She couldn't handle the hunting life?" James guessed.
"Pretty much," Sam said. "Not exactly something you bring up on a first date."
James smirked faintly, but his mind kept drifting to his own friends. He hated pushing them away, but he didn't see another choice.
When they reached the motel, Sam handled the check-in while James carried their bags inside. The room was basic and a little run-down, but it would do. James dumped the duffel bags on the bed and started unpacking their gear.
"Dead man's blood," Sam said, pulling out a vial. "I'll get the syringes ready. Can you sharpen the machetes?"
"On it," James replied, grabbing the weapons.
He sighed, gripping the machete tightly. He couldn't afford to focus on the past. Vampires were out there, and people's lives were at risk. Moreover with Sarah and Nick living here, he didn't want to let those vampires roam free. This was the least he could do for his friends.
Sam looked over after prepping the syringes. "You sure you're good?"
James nodded. "Yeah. Let's just get this done."
Sam didn't push but still looked concerned. "Dean and Ash should be back soon. Hopefully, they'll have some solid info."
James's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and frowned—another missed call from Mia. He stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the "ignore" button before silencing it and shoving the phone back into his pocket.
"You gonna answer that?" Sam asked.
"No," James said firmly.
Sam didn't press, but James could feel the question hanging in the air. He turned back to sharpening the machete, focusing on the sound of the blade against the stone. Whatever guilt or regret he felt, he'd deal with it later. Right now, he had a job to do.
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