Neal could honestly say he did not remember a moment of the funeral. That was just fine with him; he didn't want to remember this sad day. It was too painful and it made it all too real. If he was being honest, Neal would have voiced his discontent. All he wanted was it to be over so he could spend time with his little girl.

Little Lucy needed him. She needed him strong and comforting - the protector. He was the only parent she had now.

Besides, he was already in a state of mourning. Why should he go to a certain place and grieve for a few hours? Neal was going to be grieving the rest of his life. What was a funeral for anyway? It seemed to be for the family and friends - at least it didn't feel like it was designed to help him cope or mourn. Charming, Neal did notice, looked as uncomfortable about the funeral as Neal felt. It was wrong. They shouldn't be burying Emma, but they were and there was nothing anyone could do about it. She was dead.

He didn't like being reminded that his Emma was gone for good. As soon as it was socially acceptable, Neal left the pitch-in that Granny arranged. He guessed this would be called a wake as there were memorial flowers along with the copious amounts of food, although Neal couldn't be certain nor did he care to ask what this was called.

Out of the church, Neal headed to the car (Henry was going home with Regina for a little while). He sat there for several long minutes and just stared at the steering wheel. With a weary sigh he starts the car and heads to the hospital. Touching Lucy's soft cheek or even just seeing her tiny self would be a great comfort on this grim, grim day.

After a quick, five minute drive, Neal was at the hospital. He parked and went straight to the NCIU. Whenever he passed a nurse, aid, or visitor Neal got a sympathetic smile or nod, but the grieving father chose to ignore the looks. All he wanted was to see his daughter, Lucy, and see how she was doing.

"Mr. Cassidy, my condolences," the nurse greeted as Neal came to the desk. "How may I help you?"

At the comment, the father gave a slight nod to let her know he appreciated the words. "Can I see her? Lucy?" he asked. Resting his hands on the desk, he leaned against it as he waited for an answer. Even though the reply came a mere five seconds later, the time dragged into an hour (or so it seemed).

"She's doing well! She's stronger and more alert," the nurse promised. She got up from behind the desk and gestured to Neal to follow her down the hallway. "Come along. I bet you'd like to see her."

A faint smile crossed Neal's haggard face. "Yeah, I would," he whispered with a nod of the head. The man followed the nurse into the NCIU. Even though seeing his daughter hooked up to monitors and in a box, Neal couldn't help but smile. Lucy in this state scared him, but seeing her alive and fighting gave him strength.

"She's beautiful," Neal whispered as he looked into the incubator. The newborn's head was turned towards him. Her big, hazel eyes were wide and filled with curiosity as she blinked. Love and pride swelled his heart. What a special, wonderful creature this child was and she was his (and his alone). It was Neal's job to protect her and care for her. He would - no matter what. While he knew some would balk at that responsibility, Neal relished in it; he wouldn't have it any other way.

He got as close to the incubator as he could. Sticking his hand inside one of the openings, Neal stroked the newborn's foot. "Hello, my beautiful girl," he cooed. "You look like your mum...a tiny version of her, you precious thing."

"You are going to be a great father. You're a natural with her," the nurse complimented while she checked the machines and straightened the supplies lying on close by tables.

The words brought emotions to his eyes. Tears lined his lashed and trickled down his cheeks. "Thank you. I...I hope so," he slurred. The words seemed to be forced from his lips as if he were choking on both his emotions and what he uttered.

She looked at the clock, then at the incubator, and then back at Neal. "I need to clean Lucy's incubator and change her bedding, do you want to hold her?" the nurse offered.

"Really? I...I can hold her?" the father stammered. His jaw had dropped and instead of staring at the little girl behind the Plexiglas, he stared at Sam (the nurse he was talking to).

"I think it'll be all right," she replied. "Just be gentle and support her head." The nurse fiddled with the latches and carefully brought the little girl out of her incubator. with caution not to pull out any tubes or wires, Sam settled Lucy in the crook of Neal's arm.

"Hello, my beautiful. I'm your daddy and I love you very much," whispered Neal as he leaned forward and kissed her brow. Pulling away, the man stared down at the tiny child. His first real smile since Emma's death creased the corners of his mouth. Things were gonna be okay.