Marella landed softly on the landing pier of Hawke's mountain home and sat looking into the dark at the picture of the cosy cabin. The windows were filled with yellow light and a curl of smoke drifted into the air from the chimney. Michael stirred beside her and she felt his reluctance to leave the aircraft. It had been a long day and was turning into a longer night. The unthinkable had happened, the rescue attempt had failed and Caitlin was dead.

Marella fought past her own grief, past her own memory of the awful moment the aircraft had hit the ground. God only knew how Hawke was going to get past this, if he'd ever get past the loss of his wife, their unborn child…

'Are you OK?'

Michael's gentle words had her turning to look at him. He reached out and wiped away the tear trembling on her cheek.

'I can't believe she's gone.' Marella said, her voice choked with more tears for the friend she had lost.

'I know.' For a moment the same grief that gripped Marella flashed across Michael's face before he pulled it back, suppressed it because there was still work to do. His good eye caught a movement by the cabin.

'Dominic's coming out to greet us.' Michael noted tiredly and climbed out. Marella followed him as they moved to meet the older man as he closed the door to the cabin behind him and rested against the porch railing. Michael limped up the steps and met Dom's sad eyes as he straightened.

'How is he?' Michael asked.

Dom shook his head and reached for the bench behind him, lowering himself stiffly. Michael sat down beside him and they both looked out over the lake.

'That bad.' Michael commented as his gaze settled on the moon peeking through a cloud in the sky.

'He's just…it's like he's closed down.' Dom's voice caught in his throat and he took a deep breath. 'He hasn't said a word. He's barely moved. He just lies on the bed, curled up like a baby.'

Michael was swamped by an unfamiliar feeling of helplessness. 'Is there anything I can do?'

'Bring her back, Michael. Alive and well.' Dom sighed. 'Can you do that?'

'I wish I could.' Michael felt his own grief clutch at his control again. He sighed deeply and looked for Marella. She moved from the shadows to stand in front of them, her bottom resting against the railing.

'And how are you, Dominic?' She asked softly, tucking her hands into her jacket pockets.

Dom looked up at her and for the first time since they had met he looked like an old man to her.

'I'm not doing so well to tell the truth.' He attempted a smile, failed and covered his face with his hands.

Marella made to move towards him, tears dampening her own cheeks but Michael stopped her with a glance and instead caught her hand in his own, providing the little comfort to her he could.

Dom shook his head and wiped surreptitiously at his eyes. In the dim light, they could see the tell tale glisten of moisture against his cheeks. 'I'm going to really miss that girl.' Dom said.

'Her family are devastated.' Marella commented, swiping at her own cheeks.

Dom looked at Michael sharply. 'You…'

Michael nodded again. 'We went back. I told them to go ahead and make whatever funeral arrangements they wanted.' He glanced at the cabin. 'I didn't think Hawke would…' He sighed. 'They wanted to come but I told them to leave it a day or two.'

'You did the right thing, Michael.' Dom looked away and stared into the darkness. 'I'll call her mama tomorrow.' He fell silent wondering where he would find the courage to make the call.

'It wasn't us, Dominic.' Marella said unexpectedly.

Dom blinked at her. 'What?'

'We didn't start the shoot out.' She explained.

'We think there was some kind of accident within Horn's own ranks.' Michael expanded.

Dom absorbed the information and then shrugged. 'It doesn't matter.'

'It does matter.' Marella insisted.

'Why?' Dom asked with a hint of his old self. 'It doesn't change what happened.'

'He has to know this isn't his fault.' Michael leaned forward on his cane.

'I think it's too late for that.' Dom clasped his hands in front of him. 'You saw how he is.'

Michael said. 'It's just so senseless.'

'You'll get no argument from me on that.' Dom pushed himself off the bench. 'I should get back to him.'

'Should we come in?' Marella asked.

Dom thought for a moment and shook his head. 'Maybe tomorrow.'

Michael sighed and got to his feet, his hand squeezed Marella's. 'We'll be in touch.'

Dom headed back into the cabin and up the stairs. The door to the master bedroom was ajar and Dom pushed it open further to peek inside. Hawke was curled up in the centre of the bed with his back to the door, still in his dirty Airwolf uniform, his boots on. Dom hesitated and walked over; maybe he could convince him to change, to shower, anything…he stopped.

Hawke was asleep. Dom reached over and stroked the younger man's brown hair gently before he threw a blanket over him and made sure the fire was blazing in the hearth. He backed slowly out of the room leaving Hawke's dog, Tet to stand guard. Dom's footsteps were heavy on the stairs and he collapsed into an easy chair. His eyes caught on a picture frame on the side table and he picked it up, his finger's clumsily tracing over Caitlin's smiling face.

'Why'd you have to leave him too?' Dom asked softly tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. 'Why'd you have to leave him too?'