Harvey closed the door to the cubicle behind himself, sliding down the thin wall to sit on his suitcase. What the hell was wrong with him? They were finally off that god-damn plane but his ears were ringing again and he felt as if someone was sitting on his chest, making it hard to breathe. It did not quite feel like the earlier panic attacks but he could tell something was wrong. Maybe it was the lack of sleep…
He lowered himself to his knees, head bent over the toilet bowl, hoping he would throw up. Throwing up had made him feel better before… But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He just sat there coughing a few times until he could taste bile at the back of his throat but he didn't throw up.
Drawing a few shaky breaths he got back to his feet, slamming against the wall as he lost balance.
"Shit," he cursed. He closed his eyes, fighting through the dizziness that had hit him. It took a few seconds but finally he was able to get out a suit and to put it on. He didn't bother with a tie. His hands were shaking too much to bind it and he couldn't stand the thought of something wrapped around his neck anyway.
The whole thing had taken quite a while and he was actually surprised that Mike wasn't there yet, worriedly banging on his cubicle's door.
When he finally made it out of the bathroom, he quickly found out why Mike had not come to look for him. The younger man had dozed off, head resting against his suitcase.
Harvey smiled at the sight. Mike looked younger when he slept, much like the boy he had hired in the first place. Even the puppy analogy he had once used came back to his mind. He didn't like waking Mike up, not when it had been him who had kept him awake all night, but he was longing for a bit of sleep himself and preferred to do it in a real bed.
"Wake up, kid," he said, gently nudging Mike's shoulder. It only took a few seconds for Mike to stir and blink himself awake. "Sorry," his associate mumbled, yawning as he pushed himself to his feet.
„You still don't look great," he commented, eyes running once over Harvey.
Harvey just shrugged. He didn't feel great either, a strange ringing in his ears and his legs curiously weak under him. But surely it was nothing a good night's sleep couldn't fix.
The queue at immigrations was long. Harvey wished there was some fast pass thing to get around it, but there were a few things money couldn't buy.
The ringing in his ears got slightly more intense, but he didn't need to fight it as Mike was too tired to want to make conversation anyway. The air in the hall was stuffy and warm and had Harvey bothered to put on a tie he would have loosened it now. God, couldn't they get proper air conditioning in England?
It took Mike quite a while to notice that Harvey was swaying. He was too busy trying to stay awake himself, hardly taking in his surroundings.
It wasn't until someone said "Are you alright, Sir?" and he turned around to Harvey, that he noticed Harvey's eyes were out of focus and that the lawyer was uncomfortably shifting from one leg to another.
"I'm fine," Harvey snapped, but it was more of a grunt. It was enough to make the man who had asked turn away, muttering something about unfriendly Americans but Mike was not as easily told off.
"Are you having another panic attack?" he asked under his breath, having no idea what could have possibly caused it. They were back on the fucking ground! This was supposed to be over!
Harvey shook his head.
Then… "I need to sit down…" Harvey was practically falling before he had finished the sentence and Mike only just managed to catch him.
"Harvey, what the hell?"
There was no reply but a hoarse whimper and a hand shooting up to clutch at his chest. It was then that Mike understood. Harvey wasn't having another panic attack. This was a heart attack!
"I need a doctor!" he yelled, carefully lowering a shaking Harvey to the ground. "Someone call 911!"
"It's 999 here, dear," a woman supplied unhelpfully.
"I don't care! He needs an ambulance!"
He focused back on Harvey who was still clutching at his chest, pain written all over his face. His face was a sickening greyish colour and his lips had started to go blue from lack of oxygen. Mike had no idea what to do. CPR? But Harvey still had a pulse…
"Don't you dare dying on me," he whined feeling hot tears rising to his eyes. "Not after what you have just put me through…"
The paramedics arrived only minutes later, even though for Mike it seemed like hours. He felt utterly helpless with no idea what to do. It was clear that Harvey was in pain, but there just wasn't any way to fix it.
He only noticed the paramedics when they pulled him away to check Harvey's vitals before they put him on a gurney.
At some point Harvey's hand had ended up in Mike's. He was barely holding on, it was nothing compared to the iron clutch Mike had experienced in the plane. But Mike gently squeezed it, hoping it was reassuring.
They had put an oxygen mask over Harvey's face but Mike could still see his eyes wide with fear. His father had died of a heart attack, Mike remembered. And all he could do was pray that Harvey was not up for the same fate.
Thanks again to Zimdan19 for her beta work!
