A/N: Hey peeps! Yes, its official, I am back and (just possibly) better than ever! Thanks to all my regular reviews, I thought up a name for you: my Reg-revs!!!!!!!! Lol, isn't that lame?! Thanks to choca for the lovely threats, and, yes, Cinnamon Angel, I could practically see you standing there scolding me. Thanks to smile1 for understanding; sorry for disappointing you Deeta (lol!) but I hope this makes up for it; and to Jayde/coffeechick87 I loved your "ritual reviews", you crack me up, hun!!!!! Also, to Julianne, LizDarcy, Slytherin Princess, and all you other crazy cats!!!

This chapter was started way back in July and I just finished it now!!! (What does that tell you about my dedication?! Jks) I hope to have the next one up next weekend cuz, although I'll probably work on it during the week, I know for sure that I won't post till that glorious time when school is over (for a while).

Now there's quite a bit of POV switches so bear with me, I think it's kinda good!

As always, keep up your fantastic work and review when your through! (he he, I made a funny!) Enjoy!

Chapter 13:

Tempest

The water was wrapped around him, a silent, heavy blanket that hindered all his movements and prevented any air from reaching his lungs. He twisted and turned, struggling to push his head out and into the air. His movements were awkward and slow but every couple of seconds his hand or foot broke the surface, only to fall back into the black waters.

His eyes were open, squinting in the cold fresh water, fighting to make out the supporting columns of the bridge. But he couldn't see anything, his vision was blurred and fuzzy and panic seized his heart. There was nothing to hold onto, nothing that he could use to push his way back to the surface.

Below him, the black, frigid depths stretched on forever. Or maybe that was the way to the surface, he couldn't tell. He spun around and twisted frantically and soon he couldn't keep track of what was up and what was down.

There was one thing he knew for certain, he was going to die.

~~~~~~~

Rory was swamped with a thousand thoughts and a thousand emotions. She watched Tristan floundering in the water; she could see splashes of water as he struggled just below the surface. He didn't know how to swim and she knew that he would panic but there was nothing that she could do to save him.

Dean's arms were still wound tightly around her waist and she struggled in his embrace, fighting to get away. Now was her chance, the ghost was laughing maniacally and she slipped through his grasp, determined to get to the water, determined to save Tristan. Hope filled her as she ran farther and farther away from the terrible phantom, but just as she was about to reach the bridge Dean appeared in front of her.

Before Rory knew what was happening, he had captured her wrist in a vicious grip and pulled her roughly against him. She screamed and kicked and squirmed, but it was no use. Dean was far stronger than her and she realized that he had let her escape, that he hadn't even been worried about her getting away. She continued to wrestle wildly but Dean held her wrists tightly and shook her violently until she stood still.

"Aren't you happy now, Rory?" Dean's tone was no longer mocking and sardonic, but hard and angry. "You loved me, but you got me killed now the same goes for Tristan. I can't break the cycle, now can I?"

"I was crazy to have ever loved you." For a moment Dean almost looked sad, his eyes seemed to lighten to that familiar, comforting chestnut brown. But then, once again, they were as black as night, his face hardened and his lips twisted into an evil grin.

"Funny you should say that. Tristan was stupid to have ever loved you. Look at him now," Rory followed his gaze and her heart sank as she saw that the patch of black water where Tristan had fallen in, where he had been splashing frantically, was calm and still. "He stopped fighting for his pathetic life."

Rory smothered the urge to breakdown; she knew what she had to do. Dean would never let her leave to help Tristan, she had to find another way into that water. "You're a monster, Dean! You disgust me! I'd rather drowned with him now then spend another second with you." She looked him in the eye as she spoke those words, letting all her hatred and anger show in her face.

A muscle in Dean's cheek twitched violently and his black, black eyes grew as hard as stone. Rory was trying to look brave and hateful, but inside she was praying, praying that he would be angry, that he would toss her into the water and leave. She had to get to Tristan fast, minutes had already passed since he had been thrown into the dark waters. Dean's grip on her wrists tightened until she felt that his skin was burning hers and Rory could see the absolute hatred and disgust in his eyes.

"Is that so?" Dean asked, his voice deathly, alarmingly calm. "I could have given you everything, we could have been together forever, but I see now that you were nothing but a waste of time. You play up to someone and pretend they're your world and then you abandon them for the next guy who comes along." Dean's voice had risen in outrage and distaste but then he took a slow deep breath and stared her right in the eye. "If you want to rot in a watery hell with him, so be it. I hope you're happy."

Rory was flooded with pain at his terrible words. They weren't true, she had loved him so much but he had died. She couldn't mourn him forever, she had finally realized that she had to move on.

Suddenly, he was pulling her down the bridge and she realized that her plan had worked, he was going to send her into the water. She would have to swim hard and fast, Tristan's time was running out. In an instant they were there, in the center of the bridge where Tristan had stopped.

She waited anxiously for the order to climb the railing but it didn't come. Instead, Dean picked her up and dropped her into the water. She heard the loud sound of her body hitting the water and she could see nothing other than swirling bubbles for several seconds. Finally, her vision cleared and she squinted out into the depths as her heart pounded loudly in the complete silence that followed. For a moment there was nothing and then…

She saw something sinking slowly down into the blackness and she could have sworn that it was white cloth. Then a realization hit her: under his heavy jacket, Tristan had been wearing a white shirt.

She saw him; he was shuddering and struggling in the deep water, not ten feet from her. She wished that she could have spoken to him then, wished that she could calm his fears and tell him to take off the heavy jacket that was weighing him down. She wished she could tell him that she was doing everything she could to get to him. Resisting the urge to dive straight for him, she surged upwards, bent on filling her lungs with air before she fought her way over to him.

Her head broke the surface but before she could even open her mouth for air a rough hand was pushing on her head, forcing her under the water. In the instant she was above water she had seen Dean leaning over the edge of the bridge, leaning through the railings with that same twisted smile on his face. In that split second, Rory had only stared in shock at the terrible creature before her, hadn't been able to move, to get away.

The hand held her under and she let the last of her breath go as she fought stubbornly with the relentless hand that kept her in the dark, cold water. She couldn't keep from panicking as she watched the tiny bubbles float away, taking away her life support, her air, her hope.

~~~~~~

Tristan's lungs were on fire. His stomach shuddered and cramped, and terrible convulsions fell over him, racking him through and through. A terrible pressure pressed on ears, crushing his head and sitting on his chest until he thought his ribs would break.

It was horrible. Eternity stretched on in the few simple moments that he tumbled, trapped under the water's resolute surface. Tristan felt cold spirit hands graze the material of his pants, thanking God that the skin on his hands and faced were left untouched. They had come to claim him and their fingers on his skin would have sent him flying to someone else's death, rendering him too disoriented to witness his own.

He could have wept for the weight of his despair and the cumbrous water that overpowered his body and muddled his head.

In a last desperate attempt Tristan forced opened his eyes, squinting harshly in the foul darkness. This darkness, the darkness of finality, of abrupt end, of death was so much more frightening than that of the gentle absence of light, the sweet sanctuary that overcame him when he closed his eyes.

His heart lurched as he saw movement. It was somewhere close, but his aching head couldn't judge the distance, it was something thrashing violently, but his terrified, fading vision could not make out what exactly. He reached blindly for the figure but his imploring fingers found no assistance.

Tristan was on the verge of letting go, of giving up and letting his spirit slip through life's fingers and into the mysterious realm below. The fear was overwhelming, the pain excruciating, but some tiny part of his brain, some weak voice far away struggled to function rationally.

The figure, the one who's own trouble seemed as great as his own.

Suddenly, he saw beautiful, warm brown hair sliding softly through his fingers.

The image brought a small comfort to him, but his oxygen-deprived brain couldn't quite make a connection.

A flash of blue eyes, beautiful bellflower eyes, shone up at him.

Instantly, it was clear to him.

Rory.

He remembered then, with haunting distinctness, that there were only two other people there with him tonight. His confusion shattered and rained down around him and reality hit him in the face like a right hook.

That was Rory struggling only a few feet away from him and he understood why. She knew how swim, his fuzzy brain was almost certain of that, but something was holding her down, forcing her head under… trying to kill her.

Anger flooded Tristan's veins, followed by heartbreaking panic. No, no. Not Rory, not Rory…

The thought repeated itself like a mantra in his head and some last reserve of determination fueled him in his awkward movements as he kicked and thrusted, using everything he had to propel himself in that direction.

He would make it, he would. Or he would die trying.

~~~~~~

Rory clawed frantically at the hands whose steely grip clutched her head and right shoulder. She could feel a fire erupt in her chest and it took every single inch of her resolve to keep from opening her mouth and screaming. No, she couldn't do that. Fear squeezed her heart as she imagined the cold liquid pouring down her mouth, streaming into her lungs, killing her.

But beyond that terrible image, she couldn't think. She couldn't think about why Dean was doing this to her, couldn't think about what would happen to her mother if she couldn't get her head above the water, she couldn't think about how to get away from the phantom's hands. Everything was reflex, automatic. She struggled and writhed, all the while keeping her mouth locked shut.

She couldn't give up, not now, too much depended on her. Tristan's life depended on her. But she couldn't get away, she couldn't rid her throat of the hands that held her under, hands that were colder than the frigid water that was slowly killing her.

Rory let her arms and legs fall limp at her sides, too weary to fight anymore. For seconds that seemed like hours, everything seemed peaceful, calm, quiet.

Then the rough hands moved, blindly grabbing her collar and pulling. Rory felt like she weighed a thousand pounds as her head was pulled up above the surface.

Instinctively, her mouth flew open and, with a harsh gasp, she hungrily sucked air into her lungs, pausing only to brutally cough up water.

"And here I am thinking you were a good swimmer." Dean chuckled, a dangerous glow lighting his angry eyes. It took Rory's hazy mind several seconds to get over her panic and register that she was out of immediate danger, for the moment. A quick moment passed before she noticed he had spoken and, slowly, her brain processed the words.

A terrible scowled covered her face. "How could you?" She demanded in disgust.

For a second she thought he would give her another rancid joke but his eyes stared straight into hers, an smile empty of mirth contorted his lips, and the voice that answered her was menacing and hard.

"Your boyfriends gone, Rory. He's given up, I can feel it." Rory's breath caught and her heart stilled. No, no, not Tristan. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't true but she felt the harsh sting of tears flood to her eyes. Not Tristan.

Rory, from her place in the water, leveled her gaze with Dean's and put as much strength as she could into her voice. "You're lying."

Dean just smiled brighter, mocking her despair, and shrugged his shoulders. "Have it your way, don't believe me." He pushed lightly on her shoulders, pushing her body down an inch and letting her float back up, showing her what he could and would do. "I think that what I did before, you know, pushing you under, was kind of mean of me. I don't want you to hate me or anything so I figured this time I'd say goodbye."

Rory's heart resumed beating, this time at a frantic, rapid rate. No, not again.

"When you're on your last breath," Dean whispered with a devilish smile, "think of me, Rory."

Violent hands reclaimed the collar of her shirt as Rory's eyes widened in shock. In the harsh second that followed, she realized that Dean was going to put her under again, and this time he would show no mercy, she would not be pulled from the water.

She was yanked up as Dean prepared to shove her under one last time. His devilish, smiling lips were so close he could have kissed her, but he just smirked and Rory could read his thoughts in his eyes.

I win.

Frantically, she opened her mouth, desperately trying to suck in a deep breath of air, but something happened.

Something cold, soft, and gentle wrapped around her ankle, the weak grip stilling her racing heart. Rory could imagine creatures of the deep pulling her down, carrying her into death's embrace, and she found her mouth opening, preparing to scream.

But the sound died in her throat before she got the chance. A flash raced through her, like a bolt of energy, a shock. She was scared, put the feeling reminded Rory of something, of a rainy night and a warm bed and a burning kiss…

It happened again, as if an exhausted transmitter was desperately trying to send a signal across and ocean. She was that ocean.

Dean's eyes bulged and Rory distantly heard a strangled sound but that was the last thing she remembered before the light surrounded her.

~~~~~~

*** It was beyond freezing cold. His frigid fingers fumbled with the heater on the old truck, struggling to get some feeling back in his nose as he rushed as carefully as he could down the snowy highway. He returned his gloved hand to the steering wheel, placing it next to his other bare one.

It would be really nice if I could get my other glove. He was late for dinner at Rory's grandparent's house and was beyond nervous. He had dressed as quickly as he could, grabbed his gloves, and flew to his car, carelessly throwing his vital winter gear on the seat beside him, not noticing as one of them slid to the ground.

His truck had been freshly outfitted with a new engine, thanks to him, but the heating system was ancient and on its last leg.

Dean's soft brown eyes flicked from the road to the floor of his car. Should he reach for it?

He glanced outside again. The snow fell around him like a thick, heavy blanket and his windshield wipers worked furiously to keep a white snowdrift from settling on the cool glass, sweeping back and forth, back and forth. He had said goodbye to his parents, rolling his eyes at their calls of "drive safely" and "be careful on the roads" as he hurried down the front steps. Dean had always been a good driver and he knew that on roads like this he should be creeping along at fifteen miles an hour, but he couldn't help putting a little more weight on his foot, anxious to get to Hartford without upsetting Rory.

Upsetting Rory was the last thing in the world that he wanted to do. She was perfect in every way and he couldn't believe that he had snagged her.

He thought of her pretty smile and her bright blue eyes; the image was enough to cast a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach but did nothing to warm his aching fingers.

Oh well, he thought. I'll grab them really quickly. Promising himself that he would, Dean leaned over and fumbled in the dark until his hand wrapped around soft, warm material. Smiling in success, Dean straightened up, glanced out the windshield, and froze.

He saw the figure, the guy standing huddled out in the center of the road, and his paralysis fled as his instincts took over.

Jesus Christ! He swerved, viciously tearing the wheel to the right, all the while keeping an eye on the stunned, petrified person. He tried desperately to straighten out the car, but it surged farther to the right, as if out of its own will.

Black ice.

Dean barely saw the massive tree, like a wall in front of him; he was too busy watching his life flash before his eyes. The trunk loomed up in front of him, coming closer and closer, and as his foot slammed on the breaks he understood that there was nothing he could do about it.

For a second he was jerked forward with an incredible force, his seat belt tightened around him, digging into his chest. For a second his world was loud sounds, bright lights, and incredible, heart-wrenching pain.

And then, nothing.***

~~~~~~

Rory was dropped back into the cold water, only this time there was no harsh hands holding her down. A distant scream, full of anger, fear and pain, reached her ears and she kicked out with her legs, thrusting herself up and out of the water. She was alone, the spot Dean had vacated was empty and nothing remained other than a chilly feeling in the air. She didn't think about what had happened to his spirit as she grabbed hold of the railing and held herself up, gasping frantically for breath.

Sobs overtook her body as Rory realized what she had just witnessed. Her shaking fingers clutched the low bridge with all their strength as the images from Dean's death faded slowly from her mind.

~~~~~~

This was it, Tristan could feel it. He had always wondered what it would be like. He had seen death so many times, its haunting visage was a familiar face to him, but he had always wondered what his own would be like, how it would claim him.

But it was so simple. A blackness leaked into the edges of his vision, a blackness deeper and more threatening than one that surrounded him. Tristan was no longer aware of the cold water that enveloped him, pulling him farther and farther down into the depths.

He had saved her, he was certain. She would live, he would die, and he was fine with that because he loved her, cherished her more than he did his own life.

He saw her waking up on a beautiful morning months from now, lying warm in her bed, and smiling happily for her love of life. He could see the image as clear as a picture, and the last bit of panic and fear slowly eased away.

His exhausted body gave up, and he felt himself slipping away, fading ever so gently, and he knew there was only one thing he would ever miss.

Goodbye Rory.

~~~~~~

Rory squeezed her eyes tightly shut, trying not to think of all the pain and fear Dean had suffered in his last few moments alive.

The image was so vivid, so real, just like the first time when Tristan –

Tristan!

Thoughts raced through Rory's head. Tristan. The first time, the kiss, and the images that followed. Tristan. How he had been able to pass his memories on to her. Tristan. But it had only happened when they touched, he must have been here.

Rory's eyes widened in fear and shock as she recalled, right before the images appeared, something grabbing her ankle.

It hadn't been a creature of the deep, in fact, quite the opposite. Images of soft, golden, wild hair, beautiful, intense blue eyes, a gentle smile, and a sweet blush floated to the surface of her memory.

It took only a moment to realize that it was his caring, gentle hand that had wrapped around her ankle, only a second to understand that he had saved her, and even less than that to register that it was gone.

~~~~~~

To Be Continued……………………!!!!!!!!!

Ya know, it's been so long since I've updated that I almost forgot how much fun it is to leave you guys hangin like this! Hahahahaa!!!!

I remember reading a review before I left where the person said that she hopes Tristan comes back as a nice ghost but I'll be nice this time and promise you that he's NOT dead!!!!!!!!!

And don't you worry, I've always got something up my parka sleeve! Lol!

Don't ya just looooove having me back? ;)

Love your cliff-hanger-lovin wallflower,

Madz