Author's Note: I'd like to say a very special thank you to everyone who has continued to follow Second Chance! I appreciate you not giving up on the story. I know it's been awhile. I've been a bit distracted lately, but I do intend to finish this. I hope you all like the new chapter. :)

Chapter 45

Dean drifted toward consciousness, his hazy mind slowly becoming aware of some serious shit happening to his body. He gnashed his teeth together, struggling to keep the contents of his stomach from spilling as it roiled and lurched violently. It felt like someone was trying to bash his head in while at the same time doing one hell of a number on his stomach.

What the hell was going on? He tried to remember where he'd been last, what he'd done, but he couldn't come up with a god damned thing. Had he been on a hunt and gotten his ass kicked? Shit, for all he knew he'd gone and gotten totally wasted, though this was about a hundred times worse than any hangover he'd ever experienced.

He opened his eyes, hoping to alleviate some of the nausea and get a look at his surroundings, but he couldn't see anything. He was shrouded in a heavy darkness that seemed to be swirling around him, moving at a dizzying pace that left him with no sense of up or down.

Crap! His eyes snapped shut, squeezing tightly to offset the new wave of nausea that had his stomach clenching once more. Oh yeah," he thought, "eyes closed is definitely better."

He took a deep, steadying breath and tried again to drag up a memory. Immediately, his thoughts went to Leah. Leah. She'd been hurt. He continued to piece it together little by little. Manning and his cousin, the god damned shooting, and the coma. He'd been in her hospital room sitting beside the bed, watching her lie there in that deathlike stillness for several days. Was he still there? Dreaming maybe? He'd heard you could actually make yourself aware of your dreams while they were happening; that you could even control them. Was that what he was doing?

A long, shrill whistle pierced the silence, startling him, and then a gust of hot and heavy wind blasted him in the face. He threw his hands up in an attempt to block it, but it only grew stronger, sucking the breath right out of him. Then he was falling, dropping like a lead weight with no way to stop. Spiraling down and down.......

Throwing his arms out, Dean tried to grab on to something, anything, but there was only empty space. He prepared himself for the landing, knowing it was gonna hurt like a sonofabitch, but as quickly as the sensation had started, it stopped.

What the fuck!? He wasn't sure what sort of ride he'd just been on, but he sure as hell was glad it was over. The thought of taking another look around was unsettling, but it wasn't like he had much choice. He drew in another deep breath and slowly let his eyes flutter open, unsure of what images would greet him, if any at all.

White. This time, what he saw - all he saw - was white.

Focus. He had to clear his head and focus. He blinked a few times, but when the solid color remained, he closed his eyes, counted to ten and then opened them once again. Still nothing but freaking white. Wait. It was a white...ceiling? Yeah, a ceiling. He was looking at plain, white tiles. He was in a room, but not the one Leah was in at the hospital. These tiles were different. Somehow he was certain of that. Probably because he'd spent so much time staring up at the ceiling in her room while reliving the shooting, wondering what he could have done differently to change that devastating outcome.

So, where was he? A bar? Maybe he had been drinking. His memory was a bit clouded as far as what had happened to lead him here, but he did know that over the past several days there had been plenty of times when he'd thought about slipping away from the hospital. Part of him had desperately needed to escape, just for a little while, to a nice dark corner in some quiet, rundown bar where he could drown his grief.

But no, somehow he knew this was no bar.

Oh hell...A new thought struck, one that roused a wave of disgust and self-loathing. He hadn't...he wouldn't have...

The sudden fear that he'd gone out, gotten wasted and ended up in some nameless girl's bed gripped him hard. He couldn't have. No way had he gotten that drunk and done something like that to Leah. Christ! She meant everything to him. Sure, he'd done a lot of shit in his lifetime, things that even he preferred to tuck into the back of his memory and never pull out again, but he couldn't have slept with someone else. Especially not while Leah was lying in a hospital bed fighting to stay alive. He wasn't that much of a prick.

There was only one way to find out just what it was that he'd done and that was to ignore the queasiness burning a hole in the pit of his stomach and just sit up and face it head on. He reached out to push himself up and felt a cool, hard surface beneath his palms. The floor. He was on the floor, not in a bed. That was a good sign. Hopefully.

Dean eased up into a sitting position and looked around. More god damned white. He was in a stark white room; four walls and a ceiling, nothing else. Relief flowed through his veins, but it was short-lived as he realized there was literally nothing else. No doors. No windows.

What the....? No way out - so how did he get in?

This was getting freakier by the minute. He stood up, but way too fast and his stomach let him know about it. He doubled over and rested his hands on his knees as he struggled to regain his equilibrium. Several long, deep breaths in and out and he regained his composure enough to straighten and that's when he heard it. A low, indistinct sound. He couldn't tell what it was or from which direction it was coming, so he started walking the perimeter of the small space. With one ear pressed up against the wall, he slowly made his way along the white cell hoping to get a fix on the noise, but no matter where he was it remained the exact same distance away. It never got any closer, any louder or any clearer.

Frustrated, Dean pounded on the wall. No response. In fact, the noise stopped all together. He waited, straining to pick something up, but it was eerily silent. Cupping his hands around his mouth to form a makeshift megaphone, he yelled, "Hello! Anybody out there?"

That got a response. Muffled again, but he swore it was a voice. This time, the sound grew louder and began to shift. He tracked it, ear to the wall once more as he walked around his baffling little prison. He must have gone about halfway when, from the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of what appeared to be light bouncing off glass.

That's when he saw the door on the far side of the room, complete with a small glass window.

"Okay, I'm getting a little worried here," he mumbled to himself as he shoved a hand through his hair. "Because for some reason, this doesn't freak me out."

Dean walked cautiously toward the door, half expecting it to either fly open or disappear before he got to it. Seemed like anything was possible here. He just wished like hell he knew where here was. A brief flicker of movement on the other side of the small window immediately caught his attention and he moved a little quicker. When he stepped up to the glass and snuck a peek through it, he groaned in disbelief. All he saw was another empty room. An exact duplicate of the tiny, white space that he was trapped in.

"Shit!" Well, at least he knew there was more to this place than just the one odd cell. There were two odd cells. Determined to get out of the room and figure out just where in the hell he was, Dean raised his fist, prepared to try and break through the glass. As he did, a face appeared on the other side. A beautiful face with large brown eyes and full, soft lips.

Leah!

Her mouth opened, lips parted in surprise, and those big, gorgeous eyes grew wide as she recognized him.

He felt his chest grow tight as he stared at the woman he loved through the tiny window. Opening his fist, Dean pressed the palm of his right hand to the glass and Leah immediately did the same. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, then slowly rolled down her cheeks and the vision shook him right down to his very soul.

"Leah! Leah, can you hear me, baby?" Dean ran his left hand along the frame, searching for any means to open the damned door, but there was nothing. He spoke again, hoping she could read his lips. "Back up." He motioned with his hand, as well, signaling for her to step away. "Back up."

She nodded and took several steps back. As soon as she was at a safe distance, Dean began to hit the door and window with everything he had. Frustration mounted and curses flew as he continued to pound on the seemingly unshakable barriers. He even took off one of his boots and used the heavy heel on the glass, but it didn't so much as crack.

Leah stepped up to the door again and laid her hand back on the glass. When Dean did the same, she closed her eyes, her mouth moving slightly as if she were speaking. Mesmerized, Dean watched her lips, wishing he could hear her. Wishing he could touch her. He closed his eyes and repeated that thought over and over until he swore he could actually feel her soft skin pressed to his.

"Dean!"

God, he could actually hear her voice, feel her soft skin...because she was there with him! He opened his eyes and the door was gone. Leah was standing right in front of him, her small hand pressed flat against his. He threaded his fingers with hers, then tugged, pulling her close. They simply stared at each other for a moment, neither quite sure whether or not to believe what was happening. Then Dean's arms went around her, squeezing her to him tightly, molding their bodies together and nothing had ever felt so damned good. He buried his face in the soft, dark locks of her hair, breathing her in.

"Leah! It's really you, right? Tell me it's really you." He felt her head bob up and down.

"It's me." Her voice was muffled against his shirt as she clung to him, her warm tears soaking through the thin fabric. "Oh God, Dean, I thought I'd never see you again!"

They stood there, both afraid to move, worried that the door that had separated them earlier would magically reappear, forcing them apart once more. Finally, Dean eased back just a little, just enough to cup her face in his hands. There were things he needed to tell her, things he needed to hear from her, but they would have to wait a bit longer. At the moment all he really wanted to do was taste her. He ran his thumbs over her lips as he stared into her eyes, then lowered his head and brushed his mouth across hers. Lightly at first, just his tongue licking over its softness. Then it parted for him and he plunged inside.

It had been too long; what felt like an eternity passing since he'd last kissed her. Gentleness quickly fell away as he feasted on her, ravishing her mouth with deep, desperate strokes of his tongue. His hands moved possessively over her body, down the curve of her spine and over the firm mounds of her sweet little ass, claiming what was his. And she was his.

Somewhere deep inside of him, he felt something snap loose; the solid, steel door around his heart - the one that had been sealed shut for far too long - had finally swung open. His chest contracted, squeezing the air right out of his lungs as the reality of what he was feeling consumed him. He needed Leah. He needed her just as he needed his very next breath and it was something he couldn't continue to deny. There would be no burying it this time beneath wisecracks and sarcasm; no attempts to ignore it all together. It was time to step up and, as difficult as it was, confront it head on. He loved this woman and it was time to show her just how much because he knew in his heart that she truly wasn't aware of it. She'd settled for his weak ass attempts at expressing his feelings in the past, but there was no way she could ever have known the depth of his love for her. He hadn't even known it himself until this very moment.

Leah whimpered softly into his mouth as she clung to him and the sound was heaven to his ears. He wanted to strip her down and take her right then and there, but there was a troubling sense of urgency nudging at the back of his brain. As much as he wanted to set it aside and lose himself in the woman in his arms, Dean knew he had to find a way out of there first.

He broke the kiss, silently agreeing with the disapproving groan Leah uttered as he lifted his head. That was as much distance as he was willing to put between them, however. One hand cupped her ass, keeping her lower body pressed firmly to his as the other made bold strokes up and down her spine. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

She nodded. "I was - or am - in a coma." As if speaking the words out loud had brought the realization to light, Leah sobbed, "Oh God, Dean! You're not in one, too, are you? Is that why you're here?"

Dean saw the fear in her eyes and the tightness around her mouth and he wished he could give her an answer that would erase them both, but he couldn't. "I don't know. I guess so. I can't remember everything yet."

Her arms tightened around his waist. "What do you remember?"

"You. What I let happen to you." The love and trust he saw in her eyes forced him to look away. He didn't deserve it. "I'm sorry, Leah. You're here because of me, because I didn't..."

"Stop it, Dean!" Her voice was soft but demanding, drawing his gaze back to hers. "I remember what happened to me, all of it, and it was my fault. Mine. I'm the one who wanted to bring Nigel with us. If we'd left him, we wouldn't be in this damn mess right now. So you don't get to take the blame, not this time. This one's on me, handsome."

Her sweet smile had his heartrate kicking up a few notches, but the guilt still remained, festering within him. He'd failed to protect her and nothing would ever change that. "Yeah, well, we'll fight about it later. Right now we gotta figure out how to get the hell out of here."

Leah nodded. "I've been trying. Most of the time I've been stuck in that hellish room," she paused, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. "But I did find myself in the hospital a few times. First I saw my body lying in the bed, as if from a distance, and then I was actually in it. And I saw you there."

A spark of hope flared. "Okay, great! So what do you remember about that?"

"Well, first I heard this strange, low sound that reminded me of the subway and then there was a light that grew brighter and brigher until it just seemed to burn out. Next thing I knew I was there, in my body. I tried to talk to you each time, but you didn't hear me. The last time I was there, though, I reached out to touch your face and I could feel you, Dean."

He remembered that. He'd felt her fingers brush over his cheek and Sam had thought he'd been dreaming. "I felt you, too."

"You did?" Leah asked, clearly shocked.

"Yeah. Sammy and Amy thought I'd lost it." He saw her expression change, the sadness evident at the mention of her sister's name. so he hurried to reassure her. "Your family's holding on okay. We're gonna get you back to them. I promise you, baby."

Dean eased his hold on her, planning to brush a hand through her hair and kiss her, but a sharp tingling rippled along his arms. The sensation quickly began to change, growing stronger and stronger as it morphed into an intense electrical charge that spread and erupted throughout his entire body like a bolt of lightning. He felt Leah being torn away from him and he tightened his grip, desperately working to hang on to her, but it was already too late. Fear hammered through his veins as he stood there holding onto nothing but thin air.

TBC