Hey guys… Thank you so much for your kind reviews, it seems that you all remembered that kind reviews do an author's heart good… Makes them write faster…
I decided that 'Tempest' wasn't exactly a good title, so I changed it…
A big thanks to tyranusfan who continues to put up with me, and does a wonderful job beta'ing…
Anyway, here is chapter 2...
XXXX
'Prospero, you're a great magician:
you're an old hand at deception.
And you lied to me so much,
about the world, about myself,
that you ended up imposing on me
an image of myself:
underdeveloped, in your words, undercompetent
that's how you made me see myself!
And I hate that image...and it's false!'
-Act 3, Scene 5
XXXX
Sam held his flashlight in his left hand, keeping his shot-gun outstretched in the other as he walked down a hall in the mansion. He kept his senses alert for anything and everything that could potentially harm him, or keep him from doing his job.
"Stupid adolescent idiots," Sam muttered to himself, wondering if he would even be here if the kids had never entered the house in the first place. "Why can't they leave well enough alone?"
Continuing his trek, Sam descended the flight of stairs that led to the basement. Swiping cobwebs out of the way, he looked for a light switch, and although he found one, when he flicked the knob, nothing happened.
"Great," he mumbled, "just freaking great!"
Growling to himself, Sam stepped down off the last step onto a dirt floor, and despite himself, smiled ruefully. How much you wanna bet, Dean? He thought to himself.
Looking around for anything that would provide more light, Sam dropped his bag and shovel to the ground. Spotting a few old torches, he bent down and grabbed the lighter from his bag. Well at least that's something he thought as he lit the torches, and the whole room was filled with light. I can see now. That's a plus.
Sam grabbed his shovel from the ground, and started to dig.
XXXXX
Dean threw another shovel full of dirt behind him, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He had already dug over four feet, and there was still no sign of the bones where the marker had been. Looks like it's Sammy's turn to salt and burn, Dean thought to himself, wishing that he hadn't had to do all the work before he found out that little fact.
His phone rang just as he was taking another shovel-full of dirt from the hole, and laying his spade down, Dean reached in his pocket for it.
"Yeah?" He answered, his voice low.
"Found it," his brother said matter-of-factly.
"I'll be right there," he said, and pushed the END button on his phone.
Smiling, happy to get out of digging, Dean grabbed his shovel, pushed it into his pack, and threw the bag over his shoulder. He bent down to pick up his gun and flashlight, then went to find Sam.
XXXXX
Sam had been digging for the past half-an-hour, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by his aching back. Sam stopped for a minute to catch his breath, and took a drink of water from the bottle he had thrown in his pack. He pulled his shirt off to mop some of the sweat of his chest, and sighed. Throwing the shirt to the side, Sam grabbed his shovel and resumed digging.
He threw the shovel-full of dirt to the side and bent back down to get another spade-full. He hit something solid, and smiled, certain that the hunt was soon to be over. Setting the shovel down, Sam grabbed his cell phone and speed-dialed his brother's number.
"Yeah?" The gruff voice answered.
"Found it," Sam said.
"I'll be right there." A second later, Sam heard the tell-tale click as Dean ended the call.
Turning his attention back to the monster in front of him, Sam felt a blade stab through him. He felt his skin give way to the sharp steel and let it pass into his stomach. He grabbed the handle, his hands overlapping incorporeal ones, and fell to his knees. Looking up in shock Sam found himself face to face with the deformed ghost, a small, sad smile quirked at his lips.
"Guess you win after all Caliban." Sam told the spirit in a whisper as he fell the rest of the way to the ground. He fell, sliding off the cool metal of the blade, and then there was only a gaping emptiness where it had been. He dropped the rest of the way, all the while staring at the apparition of the deformed man in front of him.
Caliban looked on in apparent glee as Sam fell, and as the youngest Winchester watched, a smile formed across crooked lips. "Well," the ghost snarled as he stared transfixed at the sight of Sam's blood. "Would you look at that." Sam just gaped at him, incapable of giving an answer.
Sam's vision went hazy, and he vaguely thought that he had felt this way before. Before Dean had made the deal. Before he had been brought back from the dead.
'Haven't we been here before?' Sam heard a woman's voice ask. He had heard the quote on a television show Jess had been watching back when they had first moved in together, and ruefully he thought it fit.
"Sammy!?" He heard someone yell, and then a shot rang out; both effectively tearing him from his thoughts. He turned his head towards the voice, making his vision swim. A blurred figure came closer to him, and Sam idly wondered if he should be backing away. But none of his brain's commands seemed to reach his nerves to move his body. He remembered that feeling from the last time, too, and Sam gave up trying to move.
The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was an unearthly howl, and then everything faded out.
XXXXX
A/N: So I hope you all enjoyed… Don't be shy, tell me what you think of this story…
Oh and by the way, that quote came from the sixth season of Charmed, where Chris and Bianca were talking in the episode, 'Chris Crossed.'
Take care, and review often…
OSS