Zoe had given birth forty five minutes ago. She was sat on the bed, staring at the door, waiting for Max to walk through it with a wheelchair. They were going to see their daughter, for the first time, together.

Ignoring everyone's awkward questions, concerning looks, supportive smiles, he walked, purposefully towards resus, eyes focused on the floor, mind focused on walking. One foot, then the other, and the other. He'd made it. Max looked up as he opened the door, smiled slightly at Zoe and stopped the chair in front of her. 'Okay?' He helped her, carefully, into the chair and kissed the top of her head softly.

She shrugged, sat back and let Max wheel her out. She didn't know how she felt, numb...empty...

As they got closer to neonatal, she'd noticed the pace slowing down. She reached up slowly and rested her hand over Max's lightly. He hooked his thumb over her hand and ran it across her skin gently. He turned and walked through the doors backwards and pulled Zoe through them slowly. She looked around the room quickly and saw the incubator in the middle. Gasping, Zoe pulled her hand down out of Max's hold and slapped it across her mouth. He stopped the chair beside the tiny baby and stood beside her, his arm around her shoulder's, rubbing her arm. 'She'll be okay' he whispered, 'she'll be a strong little girl, like her mum.'

Zoe stood herself up and held her hand on the side of the glass box. Trying her hardest not to cry, she stared at the tiny girl. 'She should still be inside me' her voice cracked. 'She shouldn't...shouldn't be there! She should be in me!' She sobbed, allowing Max to pull her into a tight embrace, holding her close to his chest.

Holding one hand on her back, and one on the back of her head, Max bit his lip and watched their tiny child's chest rise and fall slowly. She was breathing, he thought. Then he thought, maybe she's not...maybe it's that machine. Or that one...or the other. He had no idea. Zoe does though, he thought, Zoe knows what it's all there for. She knows whats happening to their baby, and that thought scared him. As soon as..if..anything went wrong, Zoe would know what was going on, she'd know what the doctors were doing, he wouldn't have a clue. He'd be panicking, clueless. She'd be panicking, knowing their daughter was...he couldn't think like that. He wouldn't allow himself to.

'I'm sorry' she whispered against his chest, 'I'm so sorry Max...'

'Hey...you have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all Zoe.' Shaking his head he wiped under her eyes gently, 'never apologise Zo. Never.'

She looked back at the baby and sighed, running her finger, along the glass, over her tiny outline, 'it's not supposed to be like this. We're supposed to have months...' she paused, 'months until...until.' She blinked, trying to steady herself, she dug her forehead into Max's chest and took a deep breath.

'Babe?...Zoe? What's wrong?' Max tilted her chin up gently, noticed her eyes were closed. 'It's too soon, isn't it' he mumbled to himself as he sat her down slowly into the wheelchair. She looked so peaceful. He covered her with the blanket and tucked it in either side of her legs. As he placed his hand on the incubator top, he noticed the blood, covering his fingers. 'How on earth have you managed that' he thought to himself. Looking all over his hand, he couldn't find the source of the bleed. 'Weird.' he said aloud. Then, 'shit! Zoe!'

He pulled the blanket back quickly and dropped it to the floor. 'Zoe!' Sure enough, her gown was covered in blood. He lifted her up into his arms and ran. He didn't know his way around this unit, but he knew his way around the hospital. He ran through his tears, through doors, down stairs, through corridors. All the time begging her to wake up, praying.

He finally made it to the ED. 'Help!' he yelled. 'Somebody help!' he was crying now, his face tear stained, his arms and legs numb. He dropped the woman he loved onto the trolley gently and screamed at his colleagues to 'hurry the f*ck up!'

They pushed the trolley away into resus and Max fell to his knees, crying into his hands. His daughter...and now his fiance, none of them he could help. What was he supposed to do? What could he do? He wasn't trained. There was no guidebook. He just had to sit tight and wait.

'Hey..' Robyn knelt beside him. 'Come on' she said calmly, 'lets go get a cup of tea' she wrapped her arms around him and helped him up slowly. 'I'll even slip in some biscuits' she teased. Good. A smile. That was all she wanted. She led him away, sat him on the chair in Rita's office and handed him his tea.