Author's Note: Well, it's been awhile but I've finally gotten around to working on another chapter. I feel bad for leaving poor Leah hanging in that coma for so long! :0 Again, thank you all so much for following the story. Hope you enjoy the update.

Chapter 43

Dean leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, giving the impression he hadn't a care in the world, but in truth, because Falk had him at a disadvantage he was pretty pissed. Under normal circumstances he would be the one with the edge, having conducted a background check of his own before allowing this confrontation to take place. He might have even had a little fun screwing with the guy because something told him the cop wasn't a serious threat. But things were far from normal so all he wanted to do was find out what the ulterior motive was behind this visit so he could get back to Leah.

"Look, another time and I'd have enjoyed this little game you're playing, but right now I've got more important things on my mind. Why not make this easier for both of us and just tell me what it is you want so I can tell you to fuck off?"

The detective grimaced. "What makes you think I want something, son?"

Dean 's eyes narrowed as he snapped, "First of all, I'm not your son. And second, everybody wants something. Everybody has an angle. So what the hell is yours?"

Falk let out a low whistle. "You have a short fuse, Dean. But you should at least try and be nice to someone who wants to help you."

Short fuse? The jack off had no idea but if he didn't get to the point soon he'd find out first hand just how short it was. "Help me? What could you possibly help me with, Falk?"

"I can help you get Leah back. See, I know what's happening to her and I know what you can do about it because there was a time when I was in the exact same situation." The detective noted the spark of interest that flashed in Dean's eyes and knew he finally had the younger man's full attention.

Though plagued with doubts about the cops real motives, Dean was drawn in. If there was any chance at all that the man actually did know something, he had no choice but to hear him out. "I'm listening."

"My wife, Emily, slipped into a coma two years ago. Her body was strong, but she just wasn't waking up. The doctors tried to give me all the possible reasons for it, the priest tried to give me faith, but after a few weeks, then a few months, no matter how hard I tried I started to wonder if..."

Falk paused, finding it hard to breathe. Rubbing at his forehead, the detective took a moment to push aside the painful memories that assailed him. Clearing his throat, he took a deep breath and continued. "I was pretty much losing it. But life goes on, right? So one night after a real shitty day at work, I stopped for a drink before going to the hospital and I met this guy. We started talking and guess what? He knew things. Things about dark stuff. Stuff like death and comas. And reapers."

Dean sat forward in his seat. "Whoa, wait. This guy, this hunter, he said the reason your wife wasn't coming out of the coma was because a reaper was after her?" Falk gave an affirmative nod. "And he knew this how?"

"He knew another hunter who's kid ended up in a coma after being hit by a car. Said the hunter found a way to actually connect with his son's mind and bring him out. He told me that the guy said it was a reaper holding the boy back. Of course I didn't want to believe it. I mean, I was raised with tales of grim reapers but I thought they were just that - tales. And even in those they were only around to take your soul after you died. Well he said this sonofabitch was trying to lure the kid to the other side. To bring about his death." Falk gave a slight shake of his head. "I was beyond despair, Dean, and with a few beers in me, I thought why the hell not? Maybe a goddamned reaper was the reason my wife hadn't woken up. So when this hunter told me he could help me get her back, I jumped on it. I would have done anything, no matter how crazy. Only it wasn't crazy. It worked."

"How?" Dean asked. "How did you do it?"

Falk reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a small vial and set it on the table. "With this." He watched as Dean eyed the container warily. "It's called maisha mzizi. Life root. It's made from some African plant. It really does work, Dean. I used it and I linked up with my Emily and brought her home."

Dean reached for the vial, but hesitated, his hand dropping to the table beside it instead. He wasn't sure what to make of the cop's story, whether or not there was reason enough to trust the man. He'd been doing some research, as had Sam, and neither of them had dug up anything on comas. And definitely nothing linking comas to death-inducing reapers or any sort of magical African roots. So why the hell should he believe this cop who didn't know shit about hunting? And who only a few days ago had seemed more interested in tossing him into jail?

Falk stared at him and seemed to understand the uncertainty.

"Listen, Dean, I get that you don't trust me. Why should you, right? I'm a cop and you and cops don't mix from what I've seen in the reports. Truth is, a few years ago I would have tossed your ass right in jail. But I'm not the same man I was then. I've experienced something, something that most people couldn't even imagine but that someone like you wouldn't even bat an eye at. You must know that once a person's eyes are open to what exists, they aren't the same."

He still wasn't completely convinced. "And now you want what, Falk? To play hunter?" The words were dripping with sarcasm that Dean just couldn't suppress, but the detective didn't take offense.

"Not play hunter, Dean. Help hunters. After hearing your story about Nigel and his cousin I had a feeling you were one, and once I'd checked it all out I was certain. It was a hunter who helped me get my wife back so I always swore if I ever came across another one, I'd repay the debt by helping them out however I could. That's why I've been hanging around the hospital. I've been waiting to see if Leah was gonna wake up on her own. It hasn't even been a week yet so there's still a chance she will, but I know the hell you're going through, and the hell she might be going through, so I thought you should know that there is something you can do. You know, in case you don't want to risk leaving it to chance any longer."

Dean's gaze fell to the tiny bottle near his hand. What choice did he have? He hadn't come up with anything, not one goddamned thing, to save her. And Falk was right, there was no way he was gonna leave it up to chance. He glanced up at the older man whose eyes were on him. Those eyes were steady. And sincere.

Dean picked up the vial and clutched it gently in his palm. He had to do something, anything, to help Leah. It looked like with nothing but a gut feeling that she'd been reaching out to him earlier - and that Falk was actually telling the truth - this was it.

"So how does this stuff work?"

"You're gonna do what?" Sam asked, his voice rising slightly as he stared across the small table at his obviously brain-dead brother.

Dean gestured with his hand for Sam to lower the volume as he glanced around the hospital cafeteria. The last thing they needed to do was draw attention to themselves. Thankfully, though, at that late hour the place was practically empty.

"Chill out, Sammy."

"No, Dean, I'm not gonna chill out. What you're talking about is crazy, okay? Putting yourself in a coma? Going after some rogue version of a reaper? And drinking that shit? I mean, come on, we don't even know what the hell that stuff really is!"

Dean understood where Sam was coming from because he'd already run through all the same questions, and more, himself. And even though some of them remained unanswered, this was something he had to do, so his brother was just gonna have to trust him on it.

He tried to explain again. "I told you what it is. Falk said..."

"Falk said?" Sam interrupted. He made a sputtering sound, shocked at the sheer stupidity of the situation. He couldn't believe Dean was being so irrational in his thought process. Dean, who never trusted anyone on just his word was planning to give Leah and himself a dose of some unknown substance because, of all things, a cop said it would work?

"Falk said a lot of shit, Dean. Remember a few days ago, standing in the waiting room listening to Falk say you were responsible for Nigel's death and..and..hinting around like maybe you shot Leah? Remember that Dean? And now he says he wants to help you? What? Is he like your best buddy all of a sudden?"

"No! And will you please keep your damn voice down?" Dean shot another look around and noticed an elderly couple a few tables away tossing nervous glances their way. Crap! This wasn't going well. He'd known Sam wouldn't be thrilled with his plan, but he hadn't thought his kid brother's reaction would be quite so intense. "I'm not a freakin idiot, okay?"

Sam scoffed at that but Dean ignored him. "Look, I checked out Falk's story. He gave me details, Sam. And names. Before I came back here I stopped by the hospital where Falk said his wife had stayed and with a little Winchester persuasion I got a nurse to verify it. Emily Falk was there two years ago. She was in a coma and she came out of it nearly three months later, just like the guy told me."

"So that much is true. But people go into comas and come back out of them all the time, Dean. It doesn't mean this stuff he gave you is what got her out of it." Sam argued.

"Yeah, well the nurse I talked to remembered when it happened. She said everyone carried on about it for weeks afterward because the night before Emily woke up, her husband was found lying next to her on the bed. In a coma."

Sam, who'd had a comeback ready and waiting, snapped his mouth closed. He quickly tried to reprocess everything Dean had thrown at him, searching for a good enough argument to change his brother's mind, but sadly it all seemed to make sense. No matter how much he hated the idea of Dean downing that liquid root and slipping into a coma, Dean had found what seemed to be enough proof to support the detective's claim that it did work.

Still, there was one more line of reasoning left and he had to lay it out there.

"Dean, people do wake up from comas on their own, even after as long as 2-3 weeks. Maybe you should wait..."

"No."

"Just a little longer and see..."

"No, Sam."

"Damn it! Why not?"

Dean shrugged, not quite knowing how to explain it. He'd felt Leah's touch earlier and he was certain she was trying to communicate with him. Somehow he knew that she needed his help to get back to him. He couldn't sit around waiting another week or two, hoping she'd wake up on her own. Hoping that Falk was wrong and that there wasn't some psychotic reaper running around trying to force souls who were caught in limbo to take that plunge. Especially when something deep inside of him was certain that if he didn't find a way in, Leah was never going to find a way out.

"I gotta do this Sammy." he said quietly. "I gotta do this for Leah."

With a drawn out sigh, Sam sat back in his chair. There was nothing left to say. Dean had made up his mind and nothing was going to stop him. "Just give me a little more time then. I want to see what I can dig up on this, maishawhatever. Okay?"

"Okay." Dean finished off his coffee and stood up. "I'm gonna head up to Leah. You and Amy are gonna go by her place, right? So you can look it up on your laptop?"

Sam stood, too. "I was thinking more like Amy could run home and bring the laptop back here so we can both check it out."

Dean smirked. "What? You don't trust me, little brother?"

"Hell no." Sam smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It'd be just like you to be impatient enough to go ahead with this while I was gone."

As they headed for the elevators, Dean patted his jacket pockets. "Come on, Sammy. You wanna check this stuff out a little more, I'm cool with that. Damn! I think I left the vial in the car. I better go grab it. Go ahead. I'll be right up."

Sam started to say he'd go with him, but the elevator door opened and Amy stepped out. "Hey guys. Get everything worked out?" she asked as she wrapped an arm around Sam's waist.

"Pretty much." Dean said. "You know, Amy, Sam needs his laptop and I could sure use a change of clothes, but I really want to get back up to Leah. I don't suppose you'd be willing to help us out by running by your place to get those real quick, would you?"

Amy's mouth dropped open, surprised at not only the civil tone in Dean's voice as he spoke to her, but the humble request for help. "Uh, yeah, sure, I can do that, Dean." She looked up at Sam, a bit stunned. "Guess I'm off to get your brother a change of clothes. Would you walk me to my car? Cause it's very, very dark outside."

"Sure." Sam turned to Dean with a frown, feeling like he and Amy had just somehow been herded into a corner by his conniving older sibling. "Why don't you give me the keys and I'll grab that vial while I'm out there." he offered, hoping like hell the thing really was in the Impala.

Dean handed him the keys and pushed the button for the elevator. "Thanks guys. Oh, the vial's in the glove box."

When the doors opened, Dean stepped inside. Sam and Amy were still standing there watching him as he hit the button for the 4th floor. He smiled at them as the doors slid closed, his hand immediately slipping into his coat pocket and wrapping around the small bottle that would bring Leah back to him.

TBC