CHAPTER TWELVE

When Mac and Sam Winchester arrived at the Institute, Stella and Flack were already there in Flack's car. "She here?" Mac asked Stella the second he stepped from the vehicle.

His friend shrugged. "I don't know, we just pulled in." She looked worried.

"Where's Dean?"

Just then, the '67 Impala roared into the alley. The headlights blinked out and the motor shut off as Dean Winchester stepped from the car. He looked at his brother. "Got your call," he said.

The passenger door to the Impala opened, and to Mac's complete and utter surprise, Peyton Driscoll crawled out of the car. "Peyton," Mac said. "What are you doing here?"

She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Mac knew exactly why Peyton was there. The question didn't even need to be asked. He was just surprised to see her.

"So, what?" Sam asked. "We just gonna stand out here all night?"

"No. We're going in," Stella said. She stepped forward, but Flack caught her arm.

"Hold on, Stel. We're sorta forgetting something."

"The longer we stand here-"

"I know, I know!" Flack retorted. "But we need to know how to deal with whatever is in there." He looked over at Dean. "Dean, what do you want us to do?"

Dean seemed taken aback by the fact that Flack was turning it all over to him. He looked over at his brother. Sam nodded. "All right," Dean began. "There's uh, three options. Either he's dead, he's half-dead, half alive, or all alive. If he's dead, then rock salt will hurt like hell. If he's alive, it'll still hurt like hell, but not do anything. And if he's half and half..." he shrugged. "I got nothing."

"So how do we kill him?" The question came from Mac Taylor.

"A combination of the two?" Sam suggested.

"Best idea we have so far," Flack said. "Our priority is Jessica, not him."

"Now that we have that straight, can we please get going?" Stella barked impatiently.

"It's a big place," Mac said. "I think we should split up. Stella, you, Flack and Dean stay downstairs. Sam, Peyton and I will go check the next floor."

Ahead of them, the building loomed, dark and menacing. Rain threatened in the sky above. Somewhere, thunder rumbled.

The six of them moved into the Institute.

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Upstairs, Sam could feel tension in the air. It wasn't all because of the supernatural nature of the building. He could practically taste the friction between Mac and Peyton Driscoll. He almost hoped they did find something-Smithers or not. Sam knew what it was like wanting someone so badly to believe you, and having it strain a friendship or relationship. He'd seen it almost everywhere he and Dean went.

"Anything yet?" Mac asked.

Sam panned the EMF reader left and right before shaking his head. "No. Nothing. Which is good, I guess."

Mac took a chance and looked back at Peyton. Her facial features said, very blatantly, You are all crazy.

And then, somewhere downstairs, someone screamed.

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Five minutes earlier, Flack, Dean and Stella had entered Exam 7. The room was empty, but Dean's EMF reader was spiking off the charts. "Something definitely was happening in here," he said.

"We don't have time for this room-by-room crap," Stella said. "There has to be a faster way."

Then Flack thought of something. "Dean. If you want to get ahold of a ghost, can you just yell?"

Dean knew what he wanted. "David! Get your translucent ass out here!" he yelled.

"Flack, what the hell?" Stella asked.

"Wait," Flack said. "David Lyons! Show yourself!"

"Dude," a disembodied voice said, "I might be dead, but my hearing's still fine."

David Lyons appeared in front of them. He was still sporting his jacket and jeans.

Stella screamed.

Mac, Sam, and Peyton skidded into the room twenty seconds later. "Oh, my God," Peyton whispered.

Mac felt a small rush of relief.

"Everyone, this is David Lyons. He was just about to tell us where in the hell Jessica Anders went!" Flack growled.

"That way," David pointed. "Kinda down where Justin and Anna died. Dude, Smithers is here. I can feel it. Be careful, all right?"

"Thanks," Flack said, as he, Sam and Dean turned around and sprinted from the room. The rest of the crowd stared.

"What?" David growled. "Never seen a dead guy before?"

"A few," Mac shot back. "Let's get out of here," he told Peyton and Stella. The group left the room.

"You're welcome!" David yelled at their backs.

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Mac jogged down the hall, finally catching Flack and the Winchesters in a room down the hall. They were all standing in the doorway of a room, staring into it. "Holy..." Flack's voice trailed off.

"Shoot, damn it!" Dean yelled, leveling the rock salt at Smithers. Flack aimed his service pistol. For the next few seconds, the walls echoed with the sound of gunfire, the solid hits of the lead bullets, the spray and hiss of rock salt. The smell of gunpowder was thick in Mac's nostrils.

A few moments later, the volley stopped. When the dust in the room cleared, the ghostly Smithers was nowhere to be found. But a very solid body was lying on the floor.

"David!" Dean yelled.

The boy appeared behind them. "Can you still feel him?" Dean asked.

David closed his eyes. Then, thankfully, he shook his head. "No."

The room was clear, save for an unconscious Jessica Anders. She was lying on the floor, bleeding from a gash above her eye.

Mac called for an ambulance as Stella stepped past the men and into the room to cradle the teen in her arms. "Jessica? Jessica, sweetie, wake up. It's okay. You're okay."

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"And once again, I'm in a hospital," Flack groaned.

"Maybe you just oughta move in," Stella suggested. The two were standing outside Jessica's room. The girl was fine, just asleep. She had a few cuts and bruises and maybe a slight concussion, being kept overnight for observation, but was otherwise all right. Her foster parents, despite Stella's call, had not shown up.

"No thanks," Flack replied. "I've got a better place to be." He wound an arm around Stella's back and hugged her close. "Poor kid. Glad she'll be okay."

"I wanted to talk to you about that," Stella said. "I have no idea if social services would even consider it...but I wanted your opinion first."

"Uh...o-kay," Flack said slowly. "On what?"

"Jessica Anders turns eighteen in two years. If social services would let me...I want to, well...adopt her, I guess. Not officially, but support her, put her through school, give her a roof, a decent family environment. Well, I mean, as decent as it can get, what with me being on call at all hours and all that..." She looked up at him. "What do you think? I wanted to ask you because...I wasn't sure how her being at my apartment would affect us."

"What do you mean, affect us?" Flack asked her. "Stella, I love you. I think that you'd be the best role model there is for that girl. And besides, she's kinda growing on me. Especially if she keeps making that chicken Kiev, 'cause that stuff was amazing!"

"But you'd be okay with it?"

"Absolutely." Flack smiled. "I mean, I guess it would be good training for when we...I mean...if we..." He stopped; sure he'd stuck his foot in his mouth. "Did that make any sense?

Stella smiled and turned a faint pink. "I understood perfectly."

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"We're in your debt again, Dean," Mac was telling the Winchesters. They were standing outside the hospital, Dean leaning against his car. "Thanks."

"We'll stay in town a while, so when they bury the guy, we make sure he's cremated. Should keep him from comin' back," Sam explained. He looked at his brother. "And then, sorry, but if I never see NYC again, it'll be too soon."

"You're always welcome in my lab," Mac told the brothers. He noticed Peyton standing inside, staring blankly out the waiting room window. "See you around," he told them, before excusing himself to go talk to her.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "Don't say it," Sam warned his brother.

But Dean couldn't resist. "Awww..."

His brother punched him the shoulder. "Shut up." Sam shook his head as he crawled into the passenger seat. "That was the strangest job we've ever had," he said.

"I love this town," was Dean's response. "Come on, we got one more thing to clear up."

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"Peyton."

She didn't turn around. She continued to look out the window. Mac looped an arm through hers. She barely noticed. "Peyton. It takes some getting used to," Mac said simply.

She finally turned. "How do you cope with your world turning upside down?" she asked him.

He pulled her close. "Leaning on your friends," he said simply. She buried her head in his shoulder as the rain began to fall.

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Unbeknownst to his co-workers, Danny Messer was two floors below them. Louie Messer looked peaceful as he lay in the hospital bed hooked up to the machines that were keeping him alive. Danny couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for Louie's condition. But he pushed all those thoughts from his mind, as if Louie could somehow sense it.

"Hi, Louie." Danny had to stop and take a breath before he continued. "I'm sorry I ain't been by to see ya in a while. Things got a little...uh, interesting at work the past couple weeks. Anyhow... So I'm gettin' married." He smiled. "She's amazing, Louie. Her name's Lindsay Monroe. She's from Montana. Yeah, a cowgirl, I know, but Louie, the woman...she's amazing. She's smart, sexy as hell, she can put up with me. You know how much of a pain in the ass that is." Unconsciously, he reached for his brother's hand and took it in his. "The date's gonna be in October. It's comin' real fast. She's trying to pull it all together. She's cute when she's stressed. I don't even know if I'm gettin' married in Montana or New York City." He smiled at the thought. "Who'da thought, huh, Louie? Mama always thought you'd get married before I would. But you...ya sorta got tied up with Tanglewood. But...ah...let's not go there tonight, huh?"

He sighed. "Anyway, I came here tonight to tell ya...Louie, you know I want you for my best man. I had it planned that way since I was old enough to like girls. But...it looks like that might not happen. I mean, I'm still hopin' you're gonna wake up one day and we'll go back to bickering like brothers should and you callin' me shrimp an' all that." He was getting off topic. This wouldn't be as hard if Louie could talk back to him. "So, I asked Don Flack to be my best man. He's been like a brother to me since high school. He's not you, I know. But I was sorta hopin' you'd understand the position I'm in, y'know? Flack's a great guy, and he knows he's second best, but he gets it, right?" Danny took a breath. "I know you can't answer me back. But I felt like I should be gettin' your permission. I got Dad's blessing, so I was hoping I'd get yours, too."

He took a minute. He wasn't really expecting an answer. He was trained in science. He knew the odds of Louie being able to hear him.

And yet, he couldn't be sure, but he thought he felt Louie's fingers tighten on his.

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"Dude, it's freakin' windy, cold and I'm soaked," Sam complained, pulling his jacket closer around him. "Give it up, there's no sea monster here."

"What better time to show up than when people probably aren't looking?" Dean countered, staring out at the Hudson. Rain echoed off everything.

"Screw this," Sam said. "I'll be in the car with the heater on." He turned to get back in the car.

Something very large splashed behind him. A bright flash went off.

Sam turned.

Dean was holding a camera, a cat-ate-the-canary grin on his face.

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Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY, they are property of Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS. I also don't own Sam and Dean or the Impala, they belong to the WB and Eric Kripke.

Author's Note: Honestly, I'm not proud of the case resolution, but happy with the rest of the finale. I think my next story will be a lot lighter...a double wedding, maybe? Thanks to all who reviewed, I apologize for the long wait and a not-so-great finale. Next one'll be better.