AUTHOR'S NOTE I made up all the hospital procedure about what happens if a baby's born alive and doesn't live for 24 hours, just so you know. Hope you enjoy this (somewhat sad) chapter!

DISCLAIMER I don't own the main character. The doctor, nurse, and baby are all my creations.

…

Rubber-soled shoes echoed in the empty hallway. The night nurse stopped at one of the large hospital windows and watched the sun break the horizon over the skyline of Manhattan. She heard footsteps behind her.

"Oh," she said, turning around. "Good morning, Doctor."

"Good morning, Charlotte." They walked together. "Was there any trouble during the night?"

Charlotte stopped and nodded sadly. "In the nursery, Doctor."

"Was it…?"

"Yes, Doctor. Early this morning."

The doctor sighed and rubbed his temples. "I believe that it was to be expected. Being born at only seven months, the poor boy had no chance. And what with the condition of the mother…"

They began walking again. The nurse said softly, "You know she was – "

"Yes," he cut her off. "I know."

They were silent until they reached the door to the maternity ward. Charlotte handed the doctor a file. "Miss Dawson's chart."

"Thank you, Charlotte. I believe the morning nurse has arrived. You're free to leave for the day."

Charlotte nodded her head. "Thank you. Good day, Doctor."

"Good day."

His patient was the first on the left. She was awake. Her dark red, curly hair lay limp on the pillow around her. She watched the doctor with sunken eyes. "Good morning, Rose," he said.

"Good morning," was the listless reply.

The doctor pulled a chair up beside the bed. "There's something I need to talk to you about," he said, seriousness clouding his eyes.

A stray tear leaked out of Rose's eye and slipped down to the pillow. "Where is my son?"

"Rose, you have to understand – "

She didn't react as he had expected. A sad little sigh escaped her lips before she muttered, "My baby is dead."

"I'm sorry, my dear." The doctor put a hand on hers. "The birth was too early. He couldn't have survived."

She struggled to sit up. "Is there anything that could have been done?"

He shook his head. "No. There was too much trauma to the fetus during the first trimester." The doctor paused when he saw the look of pain cross the young woman's face. "I apologize, I shouldn't have brought that up."

Images and memories flashed unchecked through Rose's head. She felt the icy water swallow her entire body, freezing her deeper than her bones. She watched over and over again as passengers' hands slipped from the rails and fell down to the ever-rising waterline. Cries for help and the sound of a whistle pierced the air. She couldn't shake the memory of lying alone, floating on the board in the Atlantic with Jack's frozen hand clasped in hers. She couldn't forget Jack's blue face sinking slowly down after the ship.

"The water," she finally said. "The water was what did it."

"I'm afraid so. You were near death when you were brought aboard the Carpathia. How many hours were you in the water?"

It had felt like forever. "I don't know."

"The shock of the North Atlantic in April nearly destroyed your system. It is a miracle that your son was born at all."

Rose let herself fall back onto the pillow. "I'm sorry, Jack," she whispered.

"What was that, my dear?"

"Nothing."

The doctor opened her file and scanned its contents quickly. "Rose, you have no next of kin listed here. Is there anyone you would like us to contact?"

More faces. Her mother's look when Rose had refused to follow her into a boat. Mr. Andrews's parting glance and gift of a lifejacket. Cal searching for her on the Carpathia. Jack floating down into the sea. "There's no one. They were all lost with the ship."

He nodded sadly. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "What happens now?"

The doctor shifted uncomfortably. "I had hoped to allow you some time to grieve before bringing this up."

Shaking her head, Rose leveled her gaze on the doctor. "What is to be done?"

"I'm afraid that you have a decision to make."

"About what?"

"Rose, your son was born alive. However, he did not survive for more than 24 hours. We can record it as a stillbirth and bury him as such or you can name him and bury him by the laws of the Church. It's up to you."

She said nothing for a long time. The doctor watched her closely, waiting patiently. Finally, she shook her head. "Just bury him. It would be easier to pretend that he had never survived."

Sadly, the doctor nodded. "I understand." He stood up. "I'll make the necessary arrangements."

"Thank you." Rose watched him leave before closing her eyes again. Sleeping kept the painful memories away.

Later that day, baby boy Dawson was buried in the small hospital cemetery.