They took their turns, sitting quietly with him for their allotted hour. At first it was like visiting a sick friend in the hospital, but after a little while they each settled into a routine, unique to themselves and their character and their relationship with him. Danny himself would simply just lie there sound asleep, his exhaustion evident. Occasionally he would get restless and toss and turn and if he did they would freeze, unsure of what to do. Sometimes he would sob as if his heart was broken until they had to leave the room in tears themselves.

Flack spent his time on the floor holding his friend's hand. Not talking but hoping Danny would wake, so they could. Hawkes would lie on the floor and meditate, occasionally patting his friend's shoulder. Stella didn't settle for the floor. She would sit with him quietly, not moving, until she was absolutely positive she hadn't disturbed him and then would gently stroke her hand through his hair, the physical contact reassuring her he was there; that he was okay.

Mac would sit in the rickety chair that was still tucked in the corner from when Danny was a child and just sit and stare at him, like something under a microscope. As if by doing so he would understand everything and the find the solution.

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Mac had finished his work and Stella was sat in her place on the bed. They had joined forces for the night after a particularly harrowing shift and had decided they both needed the comfort of that quiet hour. She had almost nodded off, her hand still lightly resting on Danny's head, which was tucked down almost completely underneath the covers.

Mac eventually stood up and stretched the kinks out of his spine and started studying the memorabilia from Danny's childhood on the shelves that covered the walls of his bedroom. He looked at the one photo he had seen in the room of the two brothers, arms slung casually around each other's shoulders, grinning ear-to-ear. They could have only been very young. Danny looked tiny and innocent; sparkling clear blue eyes staring adoringly at his brother.

He sighed. Danny couldn't have been much older when the innocence wore off and the reality of life dulled the sparkle. He shook his head slowly. Danny had never lost that spark. He had always been almost childish in his pursuit of right, of moral if not wholly legal justice. He hadn't lost the spark as he had grown up either but he had lost it as an adult; in the face of his career, surrounded by the crud and criminals, the dirt and the death of the City. It was the price he had paid for doing his job.

Stella felt it before she heard it; the hitch of breath underneath her hand, the slight shudder of the ribcage. She gently stroked his head; finger brushing his hair away from his forehead and it was when he leaned his forehead into her hand that she finally realised. He was awake.

Her hand stilled momentarily before resuming the gentle brushing.

"Mac," Her voice was low, but Danny still tensed underneath her hand. "Mac, why did you not say something to him? To stop him leaving? Why did you not say something?"

Mac turned to face her leaning back on the door, surprised she had chosen now to ask and unaware that Danny had awakened, and pondered her question.

"Honestly?" He said after a while. "I guess he just took me by surprise. It… It shames me to say it but it came out of the blue. A complete and utter shock. I never thought it would ever be a scenario I would have to deal with. Danny… For Danny it has always been the job. Nothing else has ever come close. He, for his faults, is one of my best CSIs; he's intelligent, quick-witted, intuitive, loyal, and honest. I would never have let him go had I had a chance to do stop him. But I wasn't quick enough and I will always regret that."

He dropped his gaze to the form tucked under the blankets.

"He dropped a bomb Stella, and I couldn't seem to react in time. I let it blow up in my face and I lost one of my best men."

Stella looked up and into his anguished face.

"It can't be too late Mac. I can't believe that Danny wouldn't give you the chance to make it right. He looks up to you and respects you far too much to not let you say your piece."

Mac nodded hesitantly. "I can only hope so Stella." He stood upright slowly feeling a deep ache in his bones. "I'll meet you downstairs. I need to talk with Mrs Messer."

Stella nodded and waited until the door had closed softly behind him.

"Danny?"

She felt more than heard his acknowledgement as he moved against her hand.

"Danny, we love you. So much. We. Are. So. Sorry we let you down. We just want you to be all right. Okay?"

After a few moments she felt him nod.

As Stella left that evening she could only hope it was enough.