Danny thought of the baby's chin. Mac told him to sleep. He didn't want to. He wanted to remember that little chin, with the little point to it. Those little lips, the way the pink baby tongue looked when he yawned. His favorite parts were the hands. They were not even big enough to cover Danny's palm. Just the bottom half of it. He could fit the width of two fingers across the length of those hands, but no more. His favorite thing to do with the baby had been to hold out one finger like he was about to handle a bird, and watch as his son's fingers slowly curled around him. Two days since he'd done that. Two long, sleepless days.
He closed his eyes in the dark of the break room and pictured the hands. The tongue. The yawns. The lips. The chin.
"Fuck this," he muttered, and rolled off the couch. He rubbed his eyes, palms out, and shuffled into the layout room, where Adam and Sheldon stood in front of a cluttered table. "Any change?" he asked Adam.
"You need to get some rest," Sheldon said from the other end of the table. "You're completely exhausted."
"No," Danny grunted, and that was that. They worked silently, looking over Lindsay's case load again, hoping to find something.
"She did a lot…" Adam muttered.
Stella slammed into the room, shouting, "Danny, come with me," she looked excited and anxious, her curls slipping from the rubber band that held her hair back.
Danny asked her a thousand questions as they ran to the car. Stella responded only with a quiet, "we're hopeful," and a few sighs of, "we're not sure."
"Jesus, Stella, just tell me what you know," he yelled as she pulled out into the street, lights flashing.
"They found a baby. He was covered in a blue blanket. He appears to be unharmed. He's at the hospital."
Danny sat up in his seat. "Is it … is it my son?"
Stella bit her lip. "We're not sure. He was wrapped in a blue blanket matching the description of yours – with a quilted pattern? – and the hospital staff took a cheek swab. They're going to run his DNA against yours, just to make sure. But we're on our way anyways."
Danny leaped out of the car while it was still moving. He raced inside and shoved away a man with a bloody nose from the front desk.
"Baby. A baby? John Doe? Where?" he breathed. The stunned woman pointed to the elevator.
"S-second floor nursery," she stuttered.
Danny headed for the elevator, quickly deemed it too slow, and ran up the stairs, three at a time. He stumbled out onto the floor and walked up to one of the nurses.
"There's a baby here? You took a DNA sample?"
The nurse steered Danny to a small room where a baby lay in a plastic carrier, sucking on his fingers.
Danny leaned over and watched the hands. He looked at the chin. He smiled. Dominic yawned.
A nurse sitting next to the table looked up at him. "We thought you guys wanted to process him, so we used gloves. He didn't like that. He was screaming his head off. Do you want to be alone with him?"
Danny nodded. He knew that if he spoke, he'd cry. He unclasped the plastic bubble and lifted the baby up into his arms. Dominic closed his eyes and rested his head against Danny's chest.
Stella walked in, holding her kit. "Do you want to process him, or should I?"
"Me. I'll do it," Danny rasped. He shook his head when Stella offered him a pair of gloves. "I need to touch him," he explained.
He took the q-tips Stella handed him and swabbed the small patch of creamy trace next to the baby's ear. He handed it back. He took samples of the tiny bits of powder under the baby's nails. Stella helped him pluck the hay from Dominic's blue blanket.
"I'll take the blanket back to the lab and process it right away."
They carefully unfolded the blanket. Danny refused to let go of the baby. As he carefully placed Dominic on his shoulder, releasing him from the blanket, a scrap of gray fabric fluttered to the ground. Stella knelt and picked it up. She gasped at the writing on it.
"Danny," she said slowly. She lifted the fabric and laid it on the table. Danny squinted at the dark red lettering.
B-O-M-B.
"What is she talking about?" Danny muttered. "What's your mommy tryin' to say?" he asked the baby on his shoulder. Dominic gave a little snuffle in response. Danny rocked him softly, thinking back. It hit Danny like a ton of bricks. "Jesse. The bomb," he said slowly. "Stella, it has somethin' to do with Jesse."
"The kid who blew himself up in front of you and Linds?"
Danny nodded. "You gotta interview the parents." He picked up Stella's kit with one hand and was already out the door. She gathered the evidence and headed out after him.
"Danny, this is ridiculous. We're not even sure that's what she meant. What if there was a bomb on the baby?"
"There's no bomb on my son."
"Well, there could be."
Danny whipped around in the elevator, causing Dominic to whimper. His face was set. "I know what she meant. She's my wife."
"She's not your –"
"She's my wife," he said firmly, "Or she will be. Doesn't matter what she is, even, because right now the only thing we gotta do is find her."
Danny got the baby sling from his apartment, where he saw Adam working on the lock on the door.
"Just trying to work out how they got in," he explained. Danny nodded. He put his head through the sling and settled Dominic in it. He brushed back the baby's head. He couldn't stop thinking how Lindsay had held him, how Lindsay had taken care of him only a few hours before. He felt connected to her, and clung to the thought desperately.
He walked out of the apartment with a nod at Adam, who jumped up and back.
"What?" Danny asked. "I scare ya?"
Adam shook his head slowly. "Not that."
"Well, what then?" Danny's patience was running too thin. He felt the baby moving against his chest, and knew he'd have to feed Dominic in a minute or two.
"I know how they got in."
"How?" Danny grunted.
"There's blue molding clay here, maybe from the key. I'll have to run it through the mass spec to be sure, but I'd know it when I see it; I've seen it so many times before that I'm sure-"
"Great. Common molding clay. Thanks, Adam, you're really doin' wonders, here," Danny snapped sarcastically. He took the baby bottles he'd collected from the fridge, and left, stomping down the hall so hard that Dominic gave a grunt of discomfort.
Danny stopped at the sound, and turned, ready to apologize to Adam, whose foot was the only visible part of him, sticking out of the door at the end of the hall. Danny stared for a moment, caught between going back and apologizing or just letting Adam figure out that Danny was worn down to bone with fear and desperation. Dominic grunted, and Danny gave him a soft pat to the backside in comfort, and turned away from Adam and the doorway. The kid can figure it out.
Adam, meanwhile, was frozen in shame. He stared at the door, chiding himself for being so stupid, for thinking so trivial a discovery would matter. But then, he thought, Doesn't Mac always say that every piece of evidence matters? But just molding clay - how stupid is that? It's just clay. There's nothing - He stopped himself, and thought for a moment.
"This better work," he muttered hurriedly, and picked up his things. He raced out of the apartment building, passing Danny as he left.
"Adam, I'm -" Danny started, mumbling to Adam.
"Doesn't matter," Adam blurted, running backwards to shout his response, "I - I'll - thank me later!"
Danny stared at Adam as the kid hopped into his car, throwing the evidence into the front seat, and drove away with a painful screech. Danny watched him, slack-jawed, and shook his head. Dominic gave a little moan.
"What's up, buddy, you hungry?" Danny asked him, and sat down in the front seat of his car, pulling out a bottle from the bag he'd just collected from the apartment. "Mommy saved some food for you," he cooed gently, helping Dominic drink the bottle. "She's gonna be right back, Dominic, I promise. I'm gonna find her, and then we'll all do somethin' together. We'll go out, or ... I dunno. Maybe we'll go to Montana, let your Mommy take a breather. She's gonna be pretty damn - darn - tired when she gets back, so we're gonna have to be real good for her." Dominic watched him with his blue eyes as he drank the bottle. He reached a hand up and touched the bottle Danny held, his tiny fingers splayed on the clear plastic.
Danny smiled weakly. "That sounds good, doesn't it, kid? Eh, wadda you care, all you want is food and sleep. Well, we'd better get back to the lab, right? We gotta get back to findin' your mommy. She's probably gettin' pretty worried wonderin' where we are."