"What do you mean, complications ?"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Specter. She didn't make it."

The words replayed themselves over and over again in his brain like a broken record. Sitting in the sterile plastic chair outside the NICU, Harvey couldn't bring himself to move. He vaguely registered Clara and Jim huddled in the corner, thought briefly he should go over and say something, anything, offer condolences, but how could he do that when his legs felt like jelly and it felt like someone had just shot through his heart?

His face contorted in pain and he shook his head furiously against the doctor's voice echoing through his head.

We did everything we could.

—

"We still haven't picked a name," Harvey mentioned as he squeezed Donna's hand, careful of the IV.

She rolled her eyes. "I told you, I've picked a name."

"Cordelia," he scoffed and shook his head. "Do you want her to be made fun of on the playground?"

Donna laughed despite the growing pain in her belly. "I could have picked Cymbeline or Desdemona."

Harvey chuckled, not missing the way Donna had winced when she laughed. "When she gets here, we'll know."

Donna's expression saddened. "If she gets here," she whispered.

Harvey stiffened and reached to squeeze her hand again. "Donna..."

"Harvey, you heard the doctor. She's too early. She's breached. I don't... I just think we should prepare, if —"

"Hey," he said, stopping her from going any further. "She will be just fine." Despite his ever-growing worry, he put on a full-watt smile as he met Donna's eyes. "You both will." He captured her lips in his, hand resting over her bump.

—

"Mr. Specter?"

He glanced up. An elderly nurse stood in front of him, her expression softening upon seeing the haunted look in his eyes.

"Would you like to hold your daughter?"

Harvey blinked. His daughter. Donna's daughter. A wave of nausea overcame him.

"It's important at this stage to give them as much contact with their parents as possible," the gentle nurse continued.

Parents. Harvey could laugh. She would never have parents. Just him.

His heart turned cold as he thought of his own parents. He barely had enough parents around to make a whole one. And here he was, feeling sorry for himself instead of being with his own child. His beautiful daughter who now only had him in the world.

He could almost hear Donna telling him to get a grip, she was just fine, go give our baby girl what she needs.

Numbly he followed the nurse into the NICU until he was face to face with the tiny being covered in tubes. He sucked in a sharp breath as he laid eyes on her for the first time, feeling a knife twist in his gut. None of this was fair.

The nurse reached into the incubator, gently lifting the tangle of wires. She motioned for Harvey to sit in the chair beside her.

"Hold her just like this...that's it, there you go. Hold her head, I've got the wires," the nurse instructed as Harvey's hands shook, taking his daughter into his arms for the first time.

He gasped as the light hit her tiny face.

Soft, golden eyelashes fluttered as she squirmed, wisps of golden red atop her wrinkled head.

Tears were freely flowing down his face.

"Do we have a name?" he dimly heard the nurse ask, cutting through the fog.

He swallowed thickly as he looked upon his baby daughter. His everything.

"Cordelia."