Author's Note: Sorry for the wait between chapters. And what was with the email alerts? Ai, yi yi. Anyway, here is chapter nine, enjoy!

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

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Chapter Nine: Danny's Not the Only One Seeing Things

Mac Taylor was having a hard time processing everything he was hearing. He was standing behind the two-way glass down in one of the interrogation rooms. Inside, Don Flack was in a heated discussion with the two brothers they'd found digging up Grayson North.

"You really expect me to believe all this?" Mac looked at Danny incredulously. Danny hated it when his boss got that look in his eye. It made him feel really uncomfortable.

Danny was leaned against the wall. He spread his arms out. "Look, Mac. I don't understand it any more than you do. But we saw what we saw. Hawkes and Lindsay will back me up. I don't see any other explanation, do you?"

Mac jerked his head at the interrogation room. "And what about these two?"

Danny held up a file folder. "Sam and Dean Winchester. No permanent address. They drive a Chevy Impala. We found a bunch of aliases and credit cards in their car, along with a pretty heavy weapons stash in the back. But it's stuff like salt and crosses. Silver bullets. Holy water. These guys make a living hunting down stuff that shouldn't exist."

Danny shook his head. "Here's the weird part. The oldest one- Dean? Police file on him says he's deceased."

"But his DNA doesn't end up on any of our vics," Mac said. "And, I'm staring at him right now. Explain this to me."

"They told Flack it was a case of mistaken identity. Ever hear of shapeshifters?" When Mac shook his head, Danny continued. "Yeah, me either until they brought it up. Here's the thing, Mac. I've been online looking this stuff up. There's fishy stuff out there, stuff that can't be explained. Everytime these guys go to one of the places with fishy stuff, it stops." He looked Mac square in the eye. "You can believe I'm having psychic nightmares, but you can't believe this?"

Mac threw his hands in the air. "It's outrageous," he finally said. "Danny, this is insane!"

"I know it!" Danny replied. "I know. But we don't have anything else to go on." He looked at the two brothers in the interrogation room. "So until they slip up in their story, I'm ready to believe them."

Mac sighed, and ran a hand through his short hair. "All right. So where do we go from here?"

"It all comes back to the club." Danny said. "I want to go back there. If Grayson North or Jason Vox are hanging around in there, I'll find them."

Just then, Lindsay burst into the room. "We've got a problem. Have either of you two seen Mariah Banks?" When they both shook their heads, she swore. "Damn it. She's not downstairs. We don't know where she went."

"Darkness Falls," Danny said. "Just trust me. There's something freakin' weird going on there. All the answers are at that club."

Lindsay nodded. "Mac?"

Mac nodded. "Go. Be careful."

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Danny skidded his car to a stop across the street from Darkness Falls. "I think we should split up!" he told Lindsay. "I'll go check out the club, and you go straight to that alley where we saved her last time."

Lindsay looked at him. Unfortunately, this was the one day Danny had chosen to wear a decent dressy shirt. "You'll stick out like crazy, they'll make you for a detective the second you flash your ID!" She unbuttoned the top button of her pink shirt and slid her gray jeans down her hips a little more. "Let me go in there."

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Lindsay, in case you haven't been reading the casefile, they're taking female victims! I'm not letting you go in there."

She pushed his hands off her biceps. "You don't have a choice, and we don't have time to argue. I will be fine, I've got my ankle holster on." She kissed him on the cheek. "Now go!" She started walking back to the club, letting her hair down and shaking it out as she went.

Danny watched her until she went in the door. Then he took off for the alley, keeping his eyes and ears open.

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"What happened to that other detective?" Sam Winchester was asking Don Flack. There was a sense of urgency in his voice Flack didn't get. This was the second time he'd asked inside of five minutes.

"What's the rush?" Flack asked him.

Sam exchanged looks with his brother. Dean shrugged, as if to say It's your call. Sam looked up at Flack. "I've been having…dreams," he began. "Pain in the ass nightmares. Migraine worthy. They all involve that club."

Just then, Mac Taylor strode into the room. His commanding presence made for such an impressive entrance, that even Dean didn't have a wisecrack. He looked directly at Sam Winchester.

"What's in these dreams of yours?" he demanded to know.

Sam swallowed. "There's a second level to Darkness Falls. In the basement. Down there, I can't see it all, but there's a big altar. Two big, I don't know, bowls of something red. Blood, maybe. I dunno. I see a bunch of people around. There's a guy in charge. He's tall. Blonde hair. Diamond in his ear. There's also a girl, but I think she's the victim here. She's on that altar." He looked at Mac. "There's also another guy. Blonde. Glasses. And he's got a knife."

Mac swore. Danny. Lindsay. He snapped his fingers at Flack. "Get your guys down to Darkness Falls. Right now."

Flack knew better than to argue. He was out the door in a second.

Mac turned to the two brothers. "You two stay here."

"Hey, if you're going back there, we want in," Dean finally spoke. "You don't know what you're dealing with!"

Mac Taylor was already out the door. Dean was talking to air.

He looked over at Sam. "Fine. We'll do this the hard way." He lifted his lock pick from his jeans pocket. He worked at it, cussing up the members of New York's finest while he was at it.

Sam waited patiently. A few moments later, Dean was out of his cuffs. He began working on Sam's. "Where'd you leave the car? Do we have anything with us we can use?"

"Central Park. Yeah, I've got some holy water on me."

Sam stood up, letting his cuffs clang to the floor. "Dean, holy water'll just piss them off."

Dean nodded. "There isn't time to go back to the car, Sammy. We just gotta buy the cops enough time to get their people out."

Sam studied his brother. "You're sure in an all-fired hurry to help them out." He squinted at him. "Why?"

Dean sighed. "If I'm a good boy, they might ignore the fact that my file says I'm dead, and they might not put up a whole hell of a fuss over it." He opened the door to the interrogation room. "Plus, I don't like the fact that if the cops screw up the world's gonna end." He grinned. "Someone smart's gotta be in charge."

Sam followed him out of the room. "Explain to me how that person is you?" he demanded to his brother's back.

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