James stood frozen in the doorway, his heart racing as he stared at the man he never thought he'd see again—his father. Thomas, the man who had always been there for him, now appeared before him as a ghost. His form was faint and see-through, but his presence was undeniable. The kind eyes James remembered were still there, though they looked tired, filled with both sorrow and love.
"D-Dad?" James whispered, his voice trembling.
Thomas gave a small, sad smile. "James... can you see me?" he asked softly, his voice filled with longing.
James nodded slowly, his breath caught in his throat. "Yes, I can see you... Dad."
He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving Thomas, afraid that if he blinked, his father would disappear.
From behind him, Dean and Sam's footsteps broke the moment. They had stopped at the door, glancing at James, who was talking to what seemed like thin air. Sam looked confused and concerned. "James... are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of worry.
James didn't turn around. His eyes stayed locked on his father, though his voice, when he spoke, was steady. "Yes," he answered, his voice hoarse. "I'm... talking to my dad."
Sam frowned, exchanging a glance with Dean. "Your dad?" he asked, trying to understand. "You mean... Thomas?"
James nodded again, a lump in his throat. "Yes," he whispered, "that's him."
Sam muttered under his breath, looking between James and the ghost of Thomas. "Your dad turned into a spirit, and you can see him? James... we need to talk about this later."
Dean, always the practical one, looked at Sam and then back at the place where James had said Thomas was standing, his expression softening. "Yeah, we can talk later. Let's give them some time alone," he said, motioning to Sam. "Come on, let's step outside."
James didn't hear them leave. He was too focused on his father, trying to make sense of the impossible. For so long, he had wondered if he would ever get answers, and now, standing here in the ruined house, those answers were coming, but they weren't what he had expected.
Thomas took a step forward, his form flickering slightly, and spoke again, his voice heavy with emotion. "James, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice breaking a little. "I couldn't protect you... or your mom."
James shook his head, blinking away tears. He took a step closer, desperate to feel his father's presence, even though he knew he couldn't touch him. "It's not your fault," he whispered. "You did everything you could."
Thomas sighed deeply, sadness in his eyes. "But I failed. I failed to protect both of you."
James wiped his eyes, his fists clenching. "You didn't fail, Dad," he said, his voice stronger now. "You loved us. You kept us safe for as long as you could."
Thomas's eyes softened, and he reached out, but his hand passed right through James, as if trying to comfort him despite the barrier. "I just wish I could have done more," he said quietly.
James swallowed hard, his mind racing as everything hit him at once. "Dad, do you know anything about Mom? What happened to her?" His voice cracked, and he felt his heart ache as he thought about his mother, the woman who had always been strong and loving.
Thomas hesitated for a long moment, his gaze dropping. When he finally spoke, it was in a whisper. "Before I... before I died in the fire, I saw the yellow-eyed man." He paused, pain in his voice. "He took your mother, James. He... took her away from here."
James's heart stopped. The words echoed in his mind, sending a chill through his body. "So... she's alive?" he asked, barely able to believe the hope growing inside him.
Thomas shook his head sadly. "I wish I could tell you so, but I can't say anything for sure. When I died, I searched... but I didn't find anyone else. No one but me." He glanced around. "Well, except for that shadowy thing that attacked you tonight."
James's mind raced. His mother might still be alive, but taken by the same yellow-eyed demon who had destroyed his life. He wanted to believe it, wanted to hold onto hope that he could find her, that she wasn't gone. But deep down, he feared the worst—that she might be lost forever.
He looked at his father, his eyes pleading for more answers. "Do you know anything about him? The yellow-eyed man?" James asked, anger and fear creeping into his voice. "What does he want with us? Why did he take Mom?"
Thomas closed his eyes, regret in his expression. "I don't know, son. But I can tell you this—the yellow-eyed man is dangerous. He's something far worse then the thing you fought now."
James sat down on the floor, his legs giving out.
"I don't know what to do anymore, Dad," James admitted, his voice breaking.
Thomas looked at him with fatherly love, though he couldn't touch him. "You've always been strong, James. Stronger than you know. You're going to figure this out. You have the power to protect yourself and the people you care about." His voice softened. "You just have to believe in yourself."
James nodded, wiping his eyes. His father's words gave him comfort, but they also came with a heavy weight. He had powers now—powers that could help him fight—but what did they really mean in the grand scheme of things? Would they be enough to protect the people he loved? Would they help him find his mother?
"I'll find her, Dad," he whispered. "I promise. I'll find her and make this right."
Thomas smiled a little, affection and worry clearly visible in his eyes. "I know you will, son. Be careful."
He looked at James curious. "But I have to ask—how did you gain those powers? How did you hurt that yellow eyed man and that shadow thingy?'
James took a deep breath, still trying to process everything. "I—" He stopped, unsure how to explain it. "It was while...while I fought that man. I don't know exactly what happened, but I felt this... power inside me. It wasn't just adrenaline or anger. It was something different. Something deep."
Thomas sighed and slowly sat next to James, his form still faint but full of concern. He looked at his son with love, but also with sadness. "You're not alone in this, James," he said softly. "But you need to think about what you're going to do next."
James leaned against the wall, his mind racing. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I haven't decided yet. There's too much to figure out."
Thomas gave a small, sad smile. "I know you'll figure it out. Just don't forget who you are."
They sat in silence for a while, both thinking. James felt comforted by his father's presence, but he knew things were about to change. He had a long road ahead, and there was no turning back now.
-----
Meanwhile, outside the house, Sam and Dean stood silently. Sam's mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything he had just witnessed. "Did he... did he really just say he was talking to his dad?"
Dean gave a quick nod. "Yeah," he said, his tone calm but with a hint of concern. "Looks like James can see him. He has superpowers I guess."
Sam shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around it. "I don't know what to make of this. But I hope he tells us what's going on, soon. He's been through a lot."
Dean crossed his arms, as he said quietly. "You know what we need to do, right?"
Sam glanced at him. "You mean, deal with his dad?"
Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah. We should help his father move on. He doesn't belong here like this."
Sam glanced at the door where James was still inside. "Do you think James will be okay with that? I mean, that's his dad, Dean."
Dean sighed. "I don't know. But if I tell him that, he'll probably roast me with that fire he used on the poltergeist... But it's our job. We can't let his dad stay like this."
Sam looked back at the door, thinking things through. "Let's give him some time," he said quietly. "He's been through a lot. This... this is a lot to deal with."
Dean mumbled under his breath, his eyes still on the house. "You know, Thomas probably stayed here because he was obsessed—either worried about James, or wanting to kill the demon that ruined their family. If we don't do something soon, his mind could get twisted. James wouldn't want to see his dad like this... lost and controlled by whatever is keeping him here."
Sam let out a deep breath, nodding. "I know. But we have to be careful. James is already dealing with so much."
Dean's face softened, the weight of their responsibility settling in. "I get it, Sam. But we can't leave this like it is. For James... and for Thomas."
Sam and Dean stood in silence, both unsure what to do. They knew what had to be done for Thomas, but how could they tell James? He was already struggling, and losing his father again would crush him. They just didn't know how to break it to him without breaking him too.
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