TEN MINUTES TOO LATE
CHAPTER TWO
The Wait
"THE PRESENT DAY"
As soon as the ambulance departed he fell back against the restaurant bar, the world around him contracting, his heartbeat racing in his chest until he was sure he was going to descend into the dark and familiar abyss of despair. He recognised the feeling. He knew every beat of the drum. His head spinning … his pulse surging … his chest constricting …
A glass of water is thrust into his hands, followed by a hushed but strong voice. "Take a drink, take a moment and then get on your feet. We need to get to Mount Sinai."
"I … I … can't …"
Mike takes hold of his elbows, lifting the glass to his mouth. "Yes you can."
"Does anyone know what happened to her?" Robert Zane addresses Harvey – or rather the crumpled ghost of Harvey that is sitting at his feet.
"Looks like she was robbed … outside …" says Mike, refusing to meet his ex-father-in-law-to-be's gaze.
Robert's eyes move over the younger man. The man whose existence continues to be a thorn in his side. "Guess we're calling tonight off. I can't believe this has happened."
"No!" shouts Harvey, his voice strained but steadier. "No, she wouldn't want that. We have to keep going, it's too important."
"Harvey, I don't want to do that," says Robert. "The police are outside talking to witnesses. I'm not continuing with a party after something like this has happened … uhm … shouldn't you be going to the hospital?"
"He's on his way," interjects Mike quickly as he helps Harvey to his feet. Robert rolls his eyes at him, turning his nose in the air, which makes Mike's blood boil. Surely now isn't the time?
"Keep me posted on Donna's condition. Things didn't look … uhm … I mean, just keep me posted."
Harvey lets Mike rush him away from the scene, but he isn't sure how his legs are carrying him. He can't even feel them. He feels numb, his mind filled with thoughts that threaten to make his body collapse in a heap. What if she doesn't make it? How could he go on? Why did it happen? Why did she have to arrive on her own tonight? Why did she have to talk him into this stupid party? What the hell would his world look like without her in it?
Mike calls Ray for him because his brain is suddenly incapable of making his voice work properly, his eyes unable to look away from the trail of blood leading from the restaurant to the sidewalk outside. The journey to the hospital only takes minutes and Harvey's entire body is racked with terror at what news might await him when they get to the E.R.
"They said she had ten minutes, didn't they?"
"Uhm … Who?" replies Mike.
"The paramedics. They said she had ten minutes to get to the E.R. Do you think they got there in time? How long has it taken us so far?"
"I don't know Harvey, but we don't have flashing blue lights and a siren."
"Mike … what if …?"
"Don't say it."
"I have to. I can't …" he feels his friend's hand on his arm – a gentle touch which tells him that he isn't going through this alone. "It didn't look good, Mike. There was so much blood …" he looks at his hands which are still stained red. "Jesus, Mike … Jesus that all happened, didn't it? … Goddamnit. God-fucking-damn it … Why?"
Mike had been trying to stay strong for Harvey, but now he feels his own composure start to shatter. "She'll be okay. She has to be."
They spend the rest of the ride in silence, Harvey looking at his watch as their journey time nudges past ten minutes and steadily onto fifteen. He can feel his heart thudding against his ribcage – his stomach rising into his throat as waves of panic assault his nervous system. And when Ray pulls up outside Mount Sinai he isn't sure if he can get out the car.
Mike notices his hesitation. "She needs you to fight for her."
A simple phrase, which almost breaks the older man's heart in two. Harvey is sure Mike didn't mean it as a direct call to battle, but that was damn well what he was going to use it as. Donna needed him and he wasn't going to let her down.
Unable to shake off the images from the sidewalk outside the restaurant, he expects to see blood line the clinical beige floor of the hospital. He's relieved to see it's clean. He's relieved to hear the squeaky clean sound as his shoe heels hit the tiles under his feet.
He makes a bee-line for the reception which seats a team of eight or so receptionists, throngs of nurses and doctors flitting in and out of the circular walled area. He scans for an opening and plants himself in front of a large black woman who appears to be a composite of Gretchen and Big Bertha from the DA's office – Bertha's age, Gretchen's know-it-all expression and a bucket-load of attitude that matches both of theirs.
He steps forward, Mike behind him and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
The woman looks up at him under a fence of false black eyelashes. "Can I help you?"
"My … uhm … my … uhm … my friend was just brought in here … I don't know …"
"Name?"
"What … oh … my name is Specter. Harvey Specter."
"Not your name. Your friend's name." Harvey forgets about making comparisons between this woman and Gretchen or Big Bertha. She evidently has the personality of a potato.
"Donna Paulsen. She was brought in ten minutes ago."
"Take a seat. Someone will be with you when there's news."
The woman's tone of voice is flat and disinterested. Harvey can feel his blood pressure rise.
"I don't think you understand. She was brought in ten minutes ago. She's been stabbed. She's lost a lot of blood. I can't just … I need news on her condition now."
"Take a seat."
"Jesus-fucking-Christ what's the matter with you?" he yells. Then he feels Mike's arms take hold of him, guiding him away from the desk as eyes from all around the E.R. are fixed upon him. "This is Donna, don't you understand? This is Donna," he rambles as he's led away by his friend, unable to grasp why the world isn't jumping at his command.
They sit down on plastic chairs and wait. "Do you know Donna's parents' contact details?" asks Mike.
"Yes, but I'm not going to call them until I know how she is. I don't want to worry them."
Mike isn't sure not ringing them straight away is a good idea, but he can't tell Harvey why. He can't tell him how worried he is. Not yet. He decides to approach the subject again later.
They sit together for a few more moments. Harvey thumbs at the red blood stains on his hands and notices the brighter streaks of red on his white shirt. "I need some air," he says suddenly. "You stay here, come get me if there's news."
He walks outside and stands in the open. He wishes he smoked. He hadn't tasted nicotine since he was sixteen, when he was shoving it into his brother's face, urging him to have a hasty puff too. But right now, in this moment, he convinces himself that he'd be fine if only there were a 'calm-whatever-ails-you' cigarette in his hand.
He leans against a post, his head swimming with 'what if's'. He tries to block them out because how could anybody predict something like this would happen? But he can't block it out. He feels responsible. She's his everything – always has been.
A cab pulls up and a familiar figure gets out. His heart sinks as the man, bleary eyed and devastated, stumbles towards him.
"Harvey," gasps Louis, his voice coarse and broken with shaky breaths.
Harvey looks up at the shorter man – his ex-partner – and fights the urge to tell him to go to hell.
Louis falls back when he notices the blood on Harvey's clothes and his face crumples, tears springing from his eyes and rushing in rivers down the creases of his face. "Is she …?" he asks between sobs which rack his body.
Harvey realises what he's asking and his stomach lurches. "No … there's no word yet … but she's going to be okay. She has to be."
"Harvey, I'm sorry. I was there, you know. At the party. I came … I was late … but I came."
"I don't care Louis. None of that matters. Not now."
Louis breathes a sigh of relief, which Harvey notices, but he's not ready to forgive his ex-partner yet. Not after everything he put them through – put Donna through. He made her life hell and destroyed what should have been the best weeks of their life – the time when they were finally together. He hadn't even had a month with her. He needed more time. The world owed him more time. He feels his anger build as he thinks back to the arguments, the outbursts and the accusations. He didn't blame Louis to begin with. His partner's world had fallen apart after all. But he did blame him for what happened next. There would have been no need for the merger if it hadn't been for Louis Litt and the goddamn stupid fucked-up shit he perpetually embroils his firm in.
They both stand next to each other, their backs resting against the same concrete post.
"Do you know what happened?" asks Louis.
"No, but I'm going to goddamn find out and when I find that bastard … I'm going to kill him."
"The place was crawling with police when I got there," says Louis, tears still flowing freely. He wipes at his face. Harvey passes him his handkerchief. "Thank you." He blows his nose and Harvey grimaces. "Sorry … I'll … uhm … have it dry cleaned."
"Keep it."
He blows his nose again. "When they told me … and I saw the blood … Harvey, what if? … What if she doesn't make it? I don't think I could …"
"She will make it! And don't you dare say that to me again!" He's had enough. He came out for some air. The last thing he needs is to have to spend this gut-wrenching time making Louis Litt feel better.
He starts to walk back to the E.R.
"I'm sorry Harvey," says Louis. "It's just … its Donna … I love her … if anything happened to her ..."
He knows how much Louis cares about Donna, but he screwed up. He hurt her. He irreparably hurt their firm. He wants to yell that if he loved her so much he shouldn't have done what he did, but his mood softens as he takes in his ex-partner's countenance – his face pale and drawn, dark shadows under his eyes, his body crumpled and awkward.
"Come inside and wait with us," he says before turning on his heel and returning to the overcrowded hospital.
When they return Harvey stops dead in his tracks. Three police officers – one in uniform, two in plain clothes – are standing with Mike. Harvey steps forwards without his stomach, which he thinks must have fell out of his throat the second he saw them. "Is there any news?"
"Not yet," says Mike.
A tall, black detective introduces himself as Nick Sawyer, his partner – a Hispanic guy who looks a few years younger than Mike, is Eddie Mendez. "I've arranged for you all to wait in a room – have some privacy," says Sawyer. A female police officer who is with them talks on her radio. A male nurse clad in burgundy overalls shows them to a small side room with three cushioned comfortable seats, a box of tissues on a chipped coffee table, a half-dead pot plant and a painting of a New York tree-lined avenue in the fall hanging (slightly lop-sided) on the wall.
Mike stands at the window, his hands digging deep into the pockets of his tuxedo jacket. Louis and Harvey sit down with Detective Sawyer. Mendez and the blonde officer talk through some notes.
"We want to let you know that we're doing everything we can to find the men who attacked Miss Paulsen," says Sawyer.
"Wait … what? You said 'men'," his heart misses a beat. He thought this had been a robbery gone wrong.
"The doorman at the restaurant, a Jose Alvarez, said he saw Miss Paulsen chase a guy down the street. Another guy dressed in a tux … uhm … grey hair, slightly balding … has been identified as her attacker. Two other associates of yours … uhm … a Tiffany Olson and a Barbara Shaw, have both backed up Mr. Alvarez's statement to varying degrees. We're definitely looking for two guys here."
"What?" His mind is assaulted by possibilities. "Are you telling me she wasn't robbed?"
"I need you to tell me anything she said to you. Leave nothing out. The doorman said she walked from the scene and she was searching for somebody inside the restaurant. He thinks she was looking for help."
Harvey swallows and bites the inside of his cheek. "She was looking for me."
"What's your relationship with the victim?"
He doesn't hesitate. "We're in a relationship. She's my girlfriend." He feels Louis's body deflate in the chair next to him. Mike turns around and smiles faintly. They knew Harvey and Donna were together now … barely together … but it's the first time both of his friends have heard him refer to Donna as officially belonging to him.
"How long have you known her?"
"Thirteen years. I've been in love with her for almost thirteen years." Sawyer smiles sadly at Harvey's emphatic response. Harvey feels a surge of pride. Claiming Donna and making a declaration of love to a complete stranger is something his heart needed to do. He wants to make up for the few short weeks they've had. They should have had longer. Committing to her out loud is a small gesture, but it's helping him.
"Can you run us through what happened inside the restaurant? Did Miss Paulsen say anything about the attack?"
Mike steps forward. "I saw her first. I saw straight away that she was hurt and I yelled across the restaurant for Harvey. Then I went to her. Harvey came a few moments later. He lowered her to the floor because she couldn't stand anymore … she'd lost so much blood and …" Mike draws in a breath, Louis hangs his head, locking his fingers together. All three men's eyes are red-rimmed and glassy. "… I held her hand for a while, then I went to see where the paramedics were. I asked the doorman … uhm … Mr. Alvarez … to apply pressure to her wound. I was worried at how much blood she was losing."
Detective Mendez scribbles into a notebook as Mike talks. The female officer talks into a crackling radio pinned to her collar. She leaves the room to give the two detectives a break from the sound of orders coming in from the police control room.
"When Mike went outside I mostly just tried to keep her awake," said Harvey as he thinks back to how terrified he was that if she lost consciousness she wouldn't wake up again. "We talked about anything, I cracked a joke or two. I was trying to make her laugh because she was petrified … she thought she was going … shit …" his breath hitches in his throat as he breaks down. "She thought she was going to die," he manages to say as his body cries out.
Detective Sawyer waits patiently as Harvey takes a deep breath. Neither Mike nor Louis have ever seen Harvey Specter cry. Mike watches his friend suffer and he feels his own resolve shatter as tears fall from his eyes too.
"I know this is very difficult Mr. Specter," says Sawyer in a soft, compassionate tone. "But did Miss Paulsen say anything … anything at all that could give us a clue about what happened outside that restaurant."
Harvey sniffs and wishes he hadn't given Louis his handkerchief. He briefly considers wiping his nose with the sleeve of his tuxedo jacket, but opts for another sniff instead. "Yeah, she said one thing. She said she shouldn't have chased the guy who stole her bag. That's why I assumed … we all assumed … that this was a robbery that had gone terribly wrong." Sawyer and Mendez share a look between themselves. "What? What is it? You have to tell me."
Sawyer turns back to Harvey, tilting his head as he scans back through the statements in his notebook. "You're a lawyer, right?" Harvey nods his head, his Adam's apple straining against his throat as he swallows hard. "And Miss Paulsen?"
"She's my assistant. Has been for thirteen years. We worked together at the DA's office before moving into corporate work."
The detectives share another look – a secret, quiet, mutual acknowledgement flitting between them. "We believe the man who robbed Miss Paulsen was a decoy and we believe this was a deliberate, pre-meditated attack."
Harvey, Mike and Louis all gasp out in shock. "What do you mean?" asks Mike. Louis starts to cry again, "Oh no, oh no" he repeats in quiet mumbles. Harvey just stares blankly as his brain races through endless reasons and possibilities. Why would anybody try to kill Donna? Was it because of him? Was it anything he'd done? Every muscle in his body starts to ache as his blood pressure soars.
"From what we've been able to gather, one man stole Miss Paulsen's bag in an attempt to draw her away from the restaurant and down the street where the other man was waiting. He was seen talking to her for a minute or two. None of the witnesses thought there was anything suspicious about either of them. None of them knew Miss Paulsen or her assailant. One was the doorman hired for the event. The other two witnesses don't know each other or Miss Paulsen. This was a merger party, right?"
Harvey nods his head as he realises how easy it must have been for the attacker to get under everybody's radar – including Donna's. "Yes, three different teams from three separate organisations were attending."
"Nobody witnessed the stabbing, but Miss Paulsen and her assailant seemed to either know each other, or to be at ease with each other before the attack. None of the witnesses were suspicious. So that brings me onto my next question. Can you think of any reason why somebody would attempt to murder your girlfriend, Mr Specter?"
That word. Murder. Suddenly he can't breathe. His neck throbs against his stiff shirt colour and he can hear his own pulse ringing in his ears. He shakes his head. "No, everybody loves Donna. There's no reason … unless … it was me they were …"
Mike interrupts, "Harvey don't. You can't think … you've got no reason to blame yourself."
"Mr Specter? Is there anything?"
"There could be any one of a million things. Over the years I've put bad people behind bars. I've also got guilty people off. I've ruined businesses, made hostile take-overs happen. You want a list of people who'd want to get to me? How long have you got?"
"Harvey," repeats Mike.
"Mike's right, Harvey," adds Louis. "Don't go down this road. There's no evidence to think this has anything to do with you."
The female officer enters the room again. "Mr. Alvarez has given us an ID of the perp," she says to Sawyer, before passing him an identikit print out of a scanned image. Sawyer looks over the picture. He frowns and raises an eyebrow.
"Let me see, maybe I can ID the guy," asks Harvey eagerly. He hopes with everything he has that he recognises him. Then he hopes he can track him down and beat him a new face.
Sawyer passes Harvey the picture and the bottom falls out of his world. "Oh my god … when?" He stares at the picture, turning it around and back again. Making sure he's seeing what he thinks he's seeing. And then he stands up, walks over to Mike and passes the paper to him.
Mike's hand shoots to his chest and he falls back against the wall. "Harvey … how …?"
"I don't know. I didn't hear anything. Surely Cameron Dennis would have contacted me."
"Do you think it's him? Are you sure? … oh my God … no." Mike runs his hands through his hair as he struggles to process his thoughts. "Why her, Harvey? Why? Why not me …?"
Harvey takes the identikit image from his friend's trembling hands, his eyes clouded with tears as he holds Mike's shoulders, willing him not to break down. Without turning around, he confirms what they know to Detective Sawyer. "This man is Frank Gallo and as far as we were aware, he was inside Danbury prison. We last saw him there about six weeks ago. Mike was in there with him."
Sawyer gives the female police officer a nod and she leaves the room, barking Gallo's name into her radio. "How do you know him?"
"I put him inside. He got thirteen years and he's served nine."
"And this man bears a grudge against you?"
"He has vowed to get revenge."
Sawyer doesn't need to hear another word. "Okay, we're going to check this out. You say he was still serving time?"
"Yes, we extended his sentence so I don't know how he got out."
"And this picture is definitely him."
"Unless he has an evil twin."
"Okay, and does this Frank Gallo know Miss Paulsen?"
"She was working with me when I put him inside, but he doesn't know her. Doubt he ever heard her name. Unless …" He turns to Mike. "Did you ever mention Donna?"
Mike's brow creases into a heavy frown. "I don't think so, Harvey. No. I'm sure I didn't."
"Okay, we're going to check out this story, please give us a few minutes," says Detective Alvarez. Harvey nods his head as he and Mendez leave the tiny waiting room.
Mike takes a seat next to Louis. Harvey sits down beside him on the left. Louis, on the right, comes to the boil.
"I swear to God if this is down to you and Donna dies …"
"What the hell, Louis?" roars Harvey. He feels as guilty as hell, but he isn't going to let Louis Litt shame him. "One of the last things you said to Donna before you relinquished your position as named partner was that she was dead to you. Don't you dare bring this to my door."
"We made up after that."
"Well it was too goddamned late, Louis! Do you know what you put her through over the last few weeks? You never deserved her friendship."
"Me? ME?" growls Louis, his teeth bared. "It's you who doesn't deserve her. I knew something like this would happen the second she let herself get wrapped up in you and your sorry life. You're selfish, you're reckless, you don't give a shit about anybody but yourself. If anything happens to her … it's on YOU!"
Harvey stands, his hands already balled into fists as Louis shrinks against the padded green seat.
"What you going to do now? Hit me? That's just like you too," whines Louis as Mike stands and gets in between the two warring ex-partners. "I lost everything because of you … and if I lose Donna …"
"Shut the hell-up Louis! You lost everything because of yourself. I didn't make you commit a crime, but I did save you from the consequences of it."
"You made me commit a crime when you hired HIM!" roars Louis, undeterred by Harvey's unbridled aggression – his face reddening as the full realisation of what happened to Donna hits him. "This is down to both of you and what you did to get out of the prison you damn well belong inside."
"You belong in prison Louis! I saved your miserable ass, remember?"
Just then the door opens and Harvey spins around expecting to see the detectives, but instead he is faced with a doctor dressed in green overalls, a white clinical cap covering his grey hair and a mask open around his neck. Harvey practically falls back onto his seat as the doctor closes the door. Mike sits back down too, searching the doctor's face for clues about his friend.
"I'm Dr. Kenneth March," says the man as he stands before them, flipping through a clipboard full of notes.
Harvey thinks the clipboard is a good sign. Dr. March isn't smiling, but he doesn't think he is wearing a 'meet-grieving-relatives' face. "Doctor, please … how is she?"
The doctor pulls a stool from the corner of the room and brings it close to the banks of seats where Harvey, Mike and Louis are sitting. "We've operated on Miss Paulsen for the past hour. I'm afraid to say that although the knife missed all of her vital organs, Miss Paulsen lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. By the time she reached us it was maybe ten minutes too late."
Louis breaks down immediately, curling into a ball, his cries echoing around the room. Mike hunches over his knees, silent and in shock. Harvey stares blankly at the doctor, refusing to accept it … he can't accept it. "Are you telling me … she's gone?"
"No, but her condition is critical. She's on full life-support. The degree of blood loss meant her organs had already started to shut down by we got her in theatre. She experienced tachycardia and her heart stopped three times. We got her back and we're pumping her with fluids and transfusing her, but her blood pressure and oxygen levels dropped seriously low. It's possible the tissue damage is irreversible."
Harvey steels himself, the doctor's words dripping into his brain like poison. "What are her chances?" he asks, his voice clawing at his own throat.
"No more than ten percent."
He feels Mike's body collapse next to him, shuddering as he cries into his sleeve.
"She'll make it," he says defiantly. "She'll beat the odds. This is Donna."
The doctor smiles uneasily, his eyes betraying his diminished hope for his patient. "We're doing everything we can for her," he says as he places his arm on Harvey's shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze before turning around and leaving the room.
As soon as they're alone, Harvey turns to his friends. "We can't fall now. Mike, Louis, come on. We have to think positive. That doctor doesn't know what we know. He doesn't know Donna."
Louis tries to pull himself together, but it's no use. He allows his despair to overwhelm him. He heard the odds. He heard what the doctor said and all he can think about is how much he's going to miss her. How unfair it is. How could somebody do this to her … didn't that bastard – that Frank Gallo – know how much they all needed her.
Mike is more pragmatic. His eyes are red-raw from crying, but he manages to calm every part of his body apart from his trembling lower lip. "You heard what he said. Harvey, I'm so sorry. If she dies I'll never forgive myself."
"No, stop, we're not doing this. Do you want to know why I fell in love with Donna? You want me to tell you? Do I need to? Can you imagine her giving up on me? You heard what she said … her heart … they brought her back three times. She's fighting this. She won't let go … she won't leave me …" He falls back in his seat, resting his head against the wall. "Oh God," he mumbles, his voice a whisper. His brain may be defiant, but his heart is breaking.
"Oh God, I can't live without her."
X X X
Thanks for reading!
Don't hate me for this! I'm just seeing how far I can push the emotions as we don't get a great deal of tragedy in Suits, do we?. A few people have written begging me for more "Donna in danger" stories, so this is the first of a few ideas I have.
Stick with me, give me your thoughts by reviewing and in return I'll keep my HAPPY ENDING PROMISE!
Always a happy ending … ALWAYS!
