James slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the bright light overhead. His body felt like it had been put through a meat grinder and then tossed into a freezer. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air, and the soft beeping of monitors drummed a steady rhythm in the background. He was lying in a hospital bed with crisp white sheets.
Across the room, a nurse moved quietly, checking the machines and jotting down notes. When she noticed James awake, she hurried over, her face lighting up. "You're awake!" she said gently. "I'll get the doctor. Just stay still." Without wasting a second, she left the room.
Before James could even mutter a reply, she was gone, her hurried footsteps echoing down the hall.
James tried to sit up but felt like he'd been hit by a semi. His memories came in bits and pieces: the Well House, the cavern, the clown, and Beverly. Just as he started piecing it together, the door swung open.
The doctor walked in first, a no-nonsense man with a calm demeanor. Right behind him was Ash, looking like he'd pulled one too many all-nighters, followed by two other men whom James didn't expect to be here—Sam and Dean.
Ash's face broke into a relieved grin. "Well, if it isn't Sleeping Beauty. Thought we'd lost you there for a minute."
James managed a weak smile. "Ash… where am I? What happened?" His voice came out dry and raspy, like he hadn't used it in days.
The doctor stepped in, doing a quick check of James's vitals and asking a few basic questions. Once satisfied, he adjusted the blanket over James. "You're doing better than I expected, but don't push it. You've been through the wringer, son. Rest up."
As the doctor left, Ash took a seat by the bed, his grin fading into something more serious. "You're in Bangor, Maine. Derry's hospital didn't have the bells and whistles for what you needed. So, we hauled your sorry butt here."
James blinked, trying to make sense of it all. Soon everything started coming back to him. The day he fought the clown with Ash and after using the Essence Absorption.... everything went black.
"Bangor? And Beverly… is she okay?" He asked.
Ash nodded. "She's fine, man. Tougher than she looks. She's resting, just like you should be."
James let out a shaky breath, relief washing over him. "How long… how long have I been out? It feels like days."
Ash leaned back, his expression unreadable. "Try six months."
James's eyes widened, his voice rising with disbelief. "Six months? Are you serious? Half a year?"
Dean stepped forward, arms crossed, his expression half amused, half serious. "No joke. You were down for the count. Whatever you pulled with that clown left you hanging by a thread."
Sam nodded, his voice softer. "We've been keeping an eye on things while you were out. Beverly's safe, and Ash made sure everything's squared away."
James looked at them, stunned. "You guys stayed? This whole time? What about finding your Dad?"
Sam gave a casual shrug, though his exhaustion was clear. "What can I say? I'm a sucker for lost causes." "
James let out a weak laugh, his voice still shaky. "I can't believe it's been six months. It feels like I just closed my eyes, and now… here I am."
Dean leaned against the wall, his smirk turning into something softer. "Time flies when you're in a coma, huh?"
Ash rolled his eyes. "Ignore him. He thinks he's funny. Anyway, you've got a lot of catching up to do. But for now, just focus on not dying on me again."
James nodded, his exhaustion catching up to him. "Thanks, guys. For everything. I mean it."
Ash waved him off. "Don't get all mushy on me. Just heal up, okay?"
Sam gave James a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You're not alone in this. We've got your back."
Dean added, "Yeah, but next time, maybe don't go all Lone Ranger on an evil clown."
Ash snorted. "Says the guy who tried to shoot a ghost with buckshot last week."
As the room filled with lighthearted banter, James felt a warmth he hadn't in a long time. Despite everything, he wasn't alone. And for now, that was enough.
The nurse walked back into the room, her face kind but firm. She looked at the group and said, "Alright, visiting hours are over. He needs to rest now..you guys can visit him tomorrow."
Ash looked ready to protest, but the nurse shot him a look that could've frozen hell. "Out. All of you. Now."
Dean raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. "Alright, alright, Nurse Ratched, we're going. Don't have a cow."
Sam gave Dean a shove toward the door. "You're gonna make her kick us out harder, Dean." He turned back to James, his expression softening. "We'll swing by tomorrow, man. You just get some shut-eye."
Ash gave James a quick pat on the foot and followed Sam and Dean out, leaving the room in heavy silence.
For a moment, James just lay there, staring at the sterile ceiling tiles. The beeping of the machines felt way too loud now that the others were gone.
He let out a long breath, and opened the system panel.
________________________________________
System Panel
Name: James Bennett
Constitution: 1.5
Principle: Essence Sovereignty Level 2 (79/1000) exp
Essence Energy: (1000/1000) units
Essence Regeneration Rate: 50 per minute
Abilities
1. Essence Sense (Basic)
{71/100}
2. Essence Shield (Basic)
{54/100}
3. Essence Strike (Basic)
{06/100}
4. Essence Absorption (Basic)
{87/100}
5. Essence Flame (Basic)
{96/100}
6. Essence Guard (Basic)
{25/100}
________________________________________
The familiar glowing interface popped into view, as if it had been waiting for him. He scanned the display quickly, noting the nearly full progress bar under Essence Absorption. It was so close to Level 2 it almost hurt to look at it. His eyes shifted to Essence Shield EXP—that had shot up too.
James also observed that his constitution had dropped to 1.5 from 1.7. He couldn't help but let out a deep sigh at this.
He dismissed the panel with a thought and closed his eyes again, but sleep didn't come. His mind kept dragging him back to the fight, to the moment he tried to absorb that clown's essence. He could still feel the raw, alien power coursing through him, burning like molten lava. It felt like someone was spraying him with hot boiling water through a firefighter hose.
'Man, what the hell was I thinking?' he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.
It wasn't just the pain that haunted him. It was the sheer stupidity of the decision. During the fight, a little voice in his head had whispered, This'll be your big break. Absorb it, level up, get stronger. It's worth it.
And like an idiot, he'd listened.
James let out a bitter laugh. 'Yeah, real smart, genius. Almost turned myself into a freaking grease stain.'
If it hadn't been for Ash, he would've been dead. No question about it. That thought hit him hard, knocking the wind out of him more than any punch could've.
'This has to stop,' he thought quietly.
He thought about the night his life changed—the demon, the fire, the screams. That night had flipped his world upside down, leaving him desperate for strength, desperate to never feel that powerless again. But that desperation had turned into a bad habit: taking dumb risks, rolling the dice on his own life like he didn't care about the consequences.
He closed his eyes, the room feeling both too small and too big all at once. 'Alright. New rule: no more playing chicken with death. If I'm gonna get stronger, I'm doing it the right way. No shortcuts. No more gambling with my life like it's Monopoly money.'
The promise felt heavy, but it also felt right. He couldn't keep letting anger drive him to make reckless decisions. Not if he wanted to stay alive. Not if he wanted to protect the people who'd stuck their necks out for him. Not if he wanted to find his mother.
As his eyelids grew heavier, James let out a long sigh, his body finally relaxing into the bed. "One step at a time," he whispered. "No more stupid moves. No more shortcuts. Just… do better."
Sleep pulled him under, and for the first time in a long while, James felt a little lighter, like he might actually be able to climb out of the mess he'd made of things.
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