A/N: I once again have to beg for a huge slab of artistic license with regards to all legal matters and police / FBI procedure. If there's stuff in this chapter that screams "that wouldn't happen" I'm claiming 'writer's prerogative' ;-)

Thanks and hugs to Blue for reviewing and reassuring… On her birthday too! She is ace!

Finally, huge thanks to everyone that has left a review. I will say it every week because it is so important and so gratefully received. Please keep the feedback coming. Your responses keep me writing.

I hope you enjoy.

Love to all, Jo xx


Battling Fate

Chapter 16

It was a bit of a cliche, she knew, waking up to a blur. She'd slowly come around and had become gradually aware of her surroundings, but everything was hazy and vague. Not visually. She could see Mike and Rachel in the room, clear as day, no problems there, whatsoever.

No, it was her memory that was a blur. She was instantly confused. She was struggling to work out why she was lying in what appeared to be a hospital bed, with her two recently married friends by her side. Fragments of moments came to her sporadically and in a jumbled order.

Trying to free herself from her restraints in her makeshift cell.

Being told that her father's heart had stopped.

Samuel leaning over her with a syringe.

Harvey asking for his key.

"Donna?" Rachel stood from the chair she'd been resting in at the side of her bed.

Donna stared at Rachel with a confused frown. She studied her friends face as though doing so might order her thoughts, help her recollect. However she was still not able to make sense of why she was there. More images rushed forward.

Samantha standing with her arms folded in the ladies restroom.

Harvey taking her hand and leading her towards the dance floor.

Louis quoting Shakespeare at her in her office.

Her father in tears.

"Donna?" Rachel repeated. "Hey… it's okay. You're okay, you're safe now. You're in the hospital," she said, as she seemed to pick up on Donna's confusion and bewilderment. Her voice was gentle and soft as she looked to reassure her friend.

Donna squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to focus her thoughts and rationalize where she was, and what had happened to cause her to be there. But try as she might, the images in her head kept jumping in and out of focus.

Panic, ice-cold veins and a suffocating darkness.

Harvey holding her face as he kisses her.

Four 9's and a 4 of clubs.

Samuel firing a gun.

Blood.

Harvey!

"Rachel?" Donna croaked. "Where is Harvey? Is he okay? Oh my god!"

Mike stepped forward then. "Donna, he's fine," he said with a quick glance to his wife, who bit her lip nervously as they exchanged a knowing look. "Everyone is okay. You're in the hospital because you suffered a few injuries and you needed medical attention, but the doctors tell us that you're going to be fine, and you'll be able to go home in a few days."

He took her hand and gave it a light squeeze as he gave her a reassuring smile. Donna's frown intensified as she looked between them, eyeing them up.

"What are you not telling me?" she asked. She may have been as confused as hell, but she was still able to tell when someone was hiding something from her.

Mike gave a heavy sigh and pulled up a chair so that he was sitting alongside her bed. "What is the last thing you remember, Donna?" he asked carefully.

"I…" Donna hesitated. She really wasn't sure. She knew that her memories were there but they were still scattered in her mind. Broken fragments pushing forward at random. "I don't know, Mike. I'm so confused."

As she stared helplessly at her friends, the door swung open and Dr. Wynn entered. She smiled at Donna. "I hear someone is finally awake," she said as she moved towards the bed with a quick nod to Mike to assure him that he didn't need to move out of the way.

"This won't take long, I just need to do a few checks. How are you feeling, Donna?"

Donna's frown deepened as she eyed the doctor before her. "I…uhm... weird. Like my head is full of cotton wool. What happened? Why am I here?"

Dr. Wynn proceeded to flash a torch in Donna's eyes as she studied her patient. "I'm afraid you were assaulted, Donna. You sustained a head injury that caused some minor bruising to your brain. We have been monitoring you closely, and I'm happy to say that the swelling appears to have reduced and we are optimistic that you should be good to go home in a day or two. We need to keep an eye on you in the meantime, though, and you need plenty of rest."

"I don't remember," she said with a tremble in her voice that indicated how disconcerted she felt.

"That's quite normal with the type of injury you have sustained, and the quantity of drugs that were in your system…"

Syringe… Samuel …

Donna began to breathe a little more rapidly as Dr. Wynn's words sparked that particular memory, and the heart monitor she was hooked up to reflected her anxiety.

"Donna, I know this is incredibly confusing for you, and coupled with the ordeal you've suffered, I appreciate that you're probably feeling disorientated and worried. However, please know that you are safe." She checked the monitor and then moved to Donna's chart, quickly checking the information and signing her initials as she looked up and smiled at her patient. "The confusion you are feeling should only be temporary, and all your memories could still return."

"Could return?" Rachel asked with concern.

Dr. Wynn tilted her head slightly and hesitated before answering. "Physically, Donna should make a full recovery. However, suffering a traumatic and stressful event can result in suppressed memories. It's your mind's way of protecting itself in the immediate aftermath. Whether or not you do remember what happened to you, Donna, I would strongly suggest you seek some counselling once you are discharged from hospital," said gently.

Donna nodded slowly, still frowning.

"Are you feeling any pain?" Dr. Wynn asked.

"Not really. My wrists feel a bit sore, and my stomach is a bit queasy," Donna answered.

"Okay, well we do have you on some pain medication at the moment. Let us know if you feel you need more. In the meantime, I think rest is the best thing for you now."

Dr. Wynn gave another reassuring smile before leaving the room.

Rachel sighed. "We can wait outside while you try and get some sleep."

"There is no way in hell I'm resting until you tell me what is going on," Donna demanded.

"Donna, you heard Dr. Wynn. You need to rest—"

"That's just not going to happen, Mike. I'm confused as hell, getting more worried by the minute which is quite frankly, freaking me out. There's no way I could sleep...and don't think for a minute, I didn't see you two exchange a look when Harvey's name was mentioned. You have to tell me what happened. Now!"

Mike took a deep breath. "I need to know the last thing you remember, to know where to begin," he said as he took her hand once again.

Donna blinked several times as she tried to order her thoughts back to the last coherent, solid memory she had. She rapidly recalled the painful last few months. From Harvey's anger, to the wedding, to her father in hospital, to Samuel. The coffee that tasted a little funny. The Karimov's, her wrists being bound. Samuel touching her. It all started to flood back and she gasped slightly as her eyes filled with unwanted tears. The fear she'd felt, more than anything else, was what hit her with full force and she sobbed as she remembered the helplessness and desperation.

She turned her head and stared at Mike as she tried to calm herself. "You came. You and Harvey. You were both there, and … there was a poker game," she said as her eyes scanned his, seeking confirmation.

Mike nodded. "That's right. You were the one who told Maxim that Harvey would play, remember? Harvey won that game, and then he revealed to Maxim that Roman was planning on betraying him."

"Yes… only, Roman himself was being double-crossed. By Forstman." She paused again as things started to get slightly hazy then. "Roman was taken away, and Maxim untied me… I think?" she said as she looked down at her swollen and bruised wrists.

Mike was nodding at her, encouraging her to continue.

"Samuel had a gun," she gasped suddenly, her eyes wide. "He was pointing it at Harvey!" she said with alarm, but then she faltered. It was as though her mind was re-enacting a play on stage, but just before the final scene, the curtain dropped. She shook her head.

"I can't remember what happened then. Please tell me he's okay. Don't lie to me," she pleaded.

"Harvey's okay, Donna, I promise. Samuel is dead… he was shot. He can't hurt you anymore," Mike said firmly.

"How did I end up here?" Donna asked, her eyes darting from his to Rachel's.

"You went into shock, so we brought you here. You had head injuries, they did a CT scan, and they discovered the trauma to the back of your head," Mike answered carefully.

Donna lifted her hand and gingerly felt the back of her head.

Samuel striking her, her head hitting the wall as she fell back.

"He hit me. I was so angry that my father had almost died at their hands, I shouted at him. He lost his temper and he hit me," she whispered.

Rachel leant forward then and took her other hand. "I'm so sorry, Donna," she said with tears in her eyes.

Donna shook her head then slightly, almost in an attempt to try and clear her thoughts once again. She looked up at Rachel and then back at Mike. "There's still something you are not telling me," she said slowly. "Where's Harvey now?"

Mike swallowed but he held her stare. "He's assisting the FBI with their inquiries," he said. The vagueness in his words and tone was not lost on Donna.

She cocked her head to one side and her eyebrow lifted. "You're not a police spokesman and I'm not a reporter looking for a sound byte. Cut the crap, Mike."

Mike looked away then and back toward his wife. Rachel pursed her lips and gave a tiny shake of her head.

"Rachel!" Donna almost shouted now. "For God's sake, just tell me what the hell is going on. Stop treating me like a chi—" Donna stopped herself mid-sentence. "Wait a minute. You said Samuel was shot. Who shot him?"

She was met with silence and her blood ran cold.

Mike cleared his throat. "Donna. Harvey is being questioned by the FBI at the moment, because he confessed to shooting Samuel… in self-defense."

"What?" she gasped.

Mike took a deep breath before continuing. "Samuel was going to kill all three of us, no question. Harvey had no choice. The FBI are just taking a formal statement from him, Samantha is with him, and they're both confident that no charges will be made. It's just a formality. We don't want you to worry," he said earnestly, but his eyes did a poor job of backing up the confidence in his words.

"Bullshit!" Donna said as she glared back at Mike. "You don't believe that. Which means you're still hiding something. What did he do, Mike?" Donna was breathing rapidly now, her spidey sense telling her that Harvey was in trouble. Deep trouble.

"Donna…"

"It was self-defense wasn't it?" she interrupted suddenly in a panic.

"Yes, of course. I swear Donna. It was definitely self-defense." He was quick to reassure, but as he hesitated once again, another fragmented memory punctured through Donna's mind, as though her brain was endeavouring to fill in the gaps that Mike was deliberately leaving out.

She sees it lying there, unnoticed, forgotten. They're facing off against each other, Samuel and Maxim, all eyes are on them. No one is looking at her. She slowly lowers her knees and reaches forward and picks it up, it's hard and cold in her hands...but it feels familiar.

Donna's eyes widened as she glanced between Mike and Rachel. Her stomach dropped, she felt her pulse quicken and she let out a sudden cry.

"Oh my God, it wasn't him," she exclaimed and her hand flew up to her mouth in horror. "No, no, no. I had the gun."

Samuel is smirking at her. He'd turned on his heel and the gun is now pointing at her directly. She sees it in his expression. She knows what's coming, there's no doubt. This is it. There's no more time.

"It was me," she sobbed. The images are vivid now in her mind.

She sees the slight twitch in his stance and she knows. It's her or him.

It's Harvey or him.

She pulls the trigger. The sound is deafening. His expression changes. He looks shocked, confused. He steps towards her, still frowning. She can hear Harvey, he's shouting, crying out. She remembers Samuel threatening her.

She remembers him threatening Harvey.

She aims more carefully this time. She has to make sure. She needs to stop him. She fires twice. No hesitation. She sees it then instantly, the shock fading only as the life leaves his eyes. There's nothing there anymore, as he drops his gun and collapses.

"I killed him. I killed Samuel didn't I? Oh my god!" She was trembling uncontrollably. She'd ended someone's life. She felt instantly sick.

"Donna! It was self-defense," Mike said fiercely. "If you hadn't done what you did, he would've killed you, and then he would have killed us. From what Samantha has told us so far, the FBI are not likely to argue with that fact."

"It's true, Donna," Rachel interjected. "I understand that this must be a real shock to you, and it's a horrendous thing for you to go through, but you really were left with no choice. What you did saved your life. Saved their lives." Rachel's voice broke on those words. The realisation that she could have lost Mike, lost all three of them, really hitting home.

Donna was shaking her head, her breathing still rapid. She knew logically that they were right. She remembered now with acute clarity the situation they had found themselves in. She couldn't argue that Samuel wouldn't have killed them if she hadn't pulled the trigger first. That realization did little to comfort her though. For as well as recalling the predicament she'd been in, she also remembered how she had felt. She had run the gamut of emotions. Fear, helplessness, panic...but the predominant feeling, at the precise moment that she had pulled the trigger, had been hate. Hate and anger. Yes, she'd wanted to stop him, but she knew deep down, from the moment he'd threatened Harvey, she'd wanted him dead. That thought now horrified her.

She looked up at her friends, her eyes full to the brim with tears. She simply nodded, not able to articulate her thoughts to them. They would undoubtedly continue to argue with her, to defend and reassure her. They wouldn't see any fault in her motivation, even if she felt differently. Her thoughts switched to Harvey again. Mike's words from earlier reverberated in her head, and she shook her head in utter confusion.

"Why? Why, Mike? Why would he say it was him?" she gasped.

Mike tilted his head as he squeezed Donna's hand. "He's protecting you," he answered with a slight shrug, as though it was the most obvious reason in the world.

Donna squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw. "You just said that the FBI are satisfied that it was self-defense. You said that Samantha is confident that they won't press charges. If that's the case, why lie and say that he did it? It makes no sense. What the hell is he thinking?" she snapped, frustration getting the better of her.

"Donna, Harvey has been racked with guilt from the moment you went missing, and since that moment he has done everything in his power to sort this mess out and keep you safe. If there was even the slightest chance you might be held accountable for what happened, he was going to do everything he could to remove that danger."

"Goddamn it, but now he's the one in danger. I can't let him do this," she cried. "You need to call Samantha. Tell her that I remember what happened and I need to speak to the FBI right now."

"No!" Mike shouted back.

Donna blanched. She stared at Mike in shock. "I'm not going to let him do this, Mike. How can you—"

"You can't, Donna," he said firmly, but less severely. Donna was shaking her head incredulously, about to protest when Rachel interjected.

"Donna, we agree with you that this was not a great move by Harvey. It was really stupid, and believe you me, we're angry with him about it, too!"

Mike let out a sharp huff. "You should've seen Samantha. I thought she was going to throw him through the window when he made that confession."

Rachel rolled her eyes at Mike before she continued. "Despite how we feel, you can't tell them what really happened, Donna. The damage is done now, and by all accounts, the FBI are still satisfied that it was self-defense and therefore, there is every chance that they won't press any charges against Harvey. However, if you tell the FBI that it was you that fired the gun, they'll then know one of you is lying. That will immediately cast doubt over the claim that it was self-defense. Suddenly it's not an open and shut case anymore. You'll be putting both of you at risk," she said.

Mike was nodding. "I hate it too, Donna. I could have killed him. As far as I was concerned there was no need for him to do that. But it's done, and now we have no choice but to go along with his version of events and back him up 100%."

Donna's tears were flowing now. She was angry. Livid. The worst of it was, she wasn't surprised. She knew that the guilt would have been eating Harvey up. Her father had been attacked, she'd been kidnapped, everything that had happened to them had occurred because Forstman wanted revenge on Harvey. That reality would have hit Harvey hard, and it would have festered. He would have been desperately trying to find a way to rectify the situation, and a grand gesture, even as stupid as this one, was totally Harvey's style. He may be the best closer in NYC, an outstanding strategist and high stakes risk-taker with an impressive winning record, but when emotions get in the way, guilt in particular, Harvey could be reckless and impulsive.

"What if it's not okay, Mike? What if charges are brought against him? I will not stand by and let him take the blame for something I did," Donna said.

"Well, we'll worry about that, if and when that happens...but not before," Rachel replied as she stood and began readjusting Donna's pillow in a bid to make her more comfortable. "Right now though, you need to take Dr. Wynn's advice and get some rest."

Donna gave a humourless chuckle. "As if I could sleep now," she said through gritted teeth.

Mike stood also, and he placed his hand on Donna's shoulder as he looked at her with a sombre expression.

"We understand that, Donna. However, the last thing Harvey needs is the worry of you not making a full recovery. He was beside himself when we brought you here. I've never seen him look so frightened. I think the only thing he regretted about his confession was that it meant he was taken away for questioning. He hated that he couldn't stay here and see that you were going to be okay...so please, try and get some rest."

Donna exhaled a heavy sigh, but she knew it was pointless to argue anymore. "As soon as I hear that he's going to be okay, and that this whole saga is finally over, I am so gonna kick his ass," she said with a scowl.

At any other time in the history of Donna's and Harvey's relationship, Mike and Rachel might have found her threat amusing. However, with everything that had happened, the horror's they'd suffered, not to mention the dire state their friendship had been in, in recent months, they found there was little humour to be had.

"We love you," Rachel whispered, as she leant forward and kissed her friend gently on her bruised cheek.

"We won't be far away, and I promise we'll let you know as soon as there is any news from Samantha," Mike added with one final squeeze of her hand.

They left her then, with a hope rather than a belief that she might actually get some much-needed rest. Despite feeling relief that her memories seemed to have returned and she seemed coherent and definitely in possession of all her 'Donna' skills, they were under no illusion that she was perfectly fine. As well as the obvious physical scars that she had, there had also been a shadow behind her eyes that betrayed the mental trauma she had suffered. Not only that, but Mike and Rachel were well aware that it wasn't just the Karimov situation that was haunting Donna. They'd seen the flicker of pain across her expression every time Harvey's name was mentioned. She was still suffering the effects of a broken heart, still hurting from months of a fractured friendship that there were still no guarantees they could come back from, even after everything that had happened. This is what frustrated them both the most, for they were in no doubt that Harvey was every bit in love with Donna, as she was with him. If only he would realise that himself.

"I'm worried about her, Mike," Rachel whispered once they stepped into the corridor and were safely out of earshot.

"I know," Mike replied as he pulled his wife into his arms and placed a soft kiss to her temple.

"She might seem like she's holding it together, but—"

"I wasn't fooled, Rachel," Mike said with a shake of his head. "That's why I'm so mad at Harvey. We both know the real reason he did it, even if he doesn't see it himself. But now she's fretting over him as well as trying to cope with everything else that's happened," Mike said bitterly. "It's like they're both playing a game of 'guilt top trumps'."

"I don't think it's guilt that's driving their decision making, " Rachel added sadly.

Mike nodded and then leant down to kiss his wife tenderly, before resting his forehead against hers. "I love you, Rachel Ross."

"I love you too," she whispered back.

Mike's phone then began to ring. He quickly grabbed it from his back pocket to see who was calling.

"It's Samantha," he said with a deep breath.


Harvey had been sat drumming his fingers on the table for at least ten minutes now. He was tired. Both mentally and physically.

They were back in New York, the FBI having brought them to a precinct in Manhattan. He'd gone through his statement several times by now, recalling the details of everything that had happened at the Beaufort club with as much as detail as he could remember. With one obvious amendment, of course. He'd also spent a large chunk of time reiterating the facts that had led up to the meeting at the club, corroborating everything that Samantha had already disclosed to the FBI the previous day.

The FBI seemed to be happy with everything they'd been told, but it was never easy to tell for sure. The agents were skilled at keeping their cards close to their chest. Harvey didn't exactly feel on top of his game either, and as a consequence, he was struggling to read them. As well as being exhausted, he was also still worried sick about Donna. Despite what the doctor had said about her head injury and the optimism with which she'd conveyed the news of her prognosis, he felt anxious and racked with guilt. She'd suffered immeasurably, and as far as he was concerned, it was his fault.

If that wasn't enough to make him feel on edge, he was also well aware that the woman next to him was seething. Since the agents had left the room, she'd hardly said a word to him. Sitting rigid in her chair, her arms folded across her chest, she was staring at the door in silence.

Harvey stopped drumming his fingers, and leant back in his chair with a sigh.

"If you have something to say, Samantha. Just come out and say it," he said wearily.

"Not here!" she spat, as she quickly glanced around the room.

Harvey sighed again. "Okay," he said quietly. He looked at his watch. They'd been here nearly three hours now. "Well they need to charge me or let me go," he said under his breath.

At that, the door opened and Agent Gutierrez and Agent Wade re-entered the room. They gave a nod to the two lawyers before sitting down at the table.

"Do you need anything more from Mr Specter tonight?" Samantha asked with authority.

Agent Gutierrez lifted a hand and gave a small smile. "We do have just a few more questions," he said calmly.

Samantha shook her head. "He has cooperated with you, fully. You have his formal statement. If you have any further questions, can it not wait until tomorrow? My client is exhausted."

Agent Wade leant forward on the table and nodded at Samantha's words as he looked at Harvey. "We appreciate that this has been a harrowing experience for you, Mr. Specter. We don't wish to detain you for much longer but there are just a few details we wish to clarify with you, before you go home."

Harvey bit the inside of his cheek. He'd come here voluntarily. Well officially anyway. Everyone currently sitting in this room knew that with his confession, if he'd refused to do so, he would have been arrested on the spot. He'd answered every question, stuck to his story and he knew that Mike would do the same when it came time for his interview. However, although he was confident that the two men sat opposite were in no hurry to make life difficult for him, he sensed that they wanted something from him.

Samantha opened her mouth to protest further, but Harvey cut in before she had a chance.

"What do you want to know?" he asked as he locked eyes with Agent Wade.

Wade smiled and after a quick glance to his partner he leant back in his chair, tapping his pen on the desk.

"Is there anything you wish to change in your statement?" he asked.

"No."

Gutierrez nodded slowly at Harvey's response. "As a lawyer, Mr. Specter, I'm sure we don't need to tell you the consequences of giving a false statement to the FBI," he said. His eyes closely studied Harvey as he spoke.

Harvey didn't flinch but he didn't respond either, he returned their gaze with equal intensity.

Samantha on the other hand, did respond. "What are you inferring?" she asked sharply, her hackles raised.

Wade frowned and began shaking his head. "We're not inferring anything, Miss Wheeler. Everything that Mr. Specter has told us seems to correlate with what we found at the crime scene. Initially, anyway. We have no reason to doubt his version of events… except…" He paused and his eyes flicked back to Harvey.

"Except?" Harvey repeated, his tone devoid of any emotion.

"Well you see, both Agent Gutierrez and I can't seem to forget the moment you first confessed to shooting Samuel Lang. You seemed very confident, for sure, however Mr. Ross and Miss Wheeler here… well, let's just say their reaction to your words told a very different story. It seemed very much like this was brand new information to them."

"Shocked and confused was how you phrased it to me, Agent Wade," Gutierrez said with a wry smile.

"That's ridiculous," Samantha quickly interjected.

"No...it isn't," Wade replied, his head cocked to the side. "You see, my partner and I have a theory. We think that most of what you told us is true, except the part about you shooting Samuel Lang. We don't think you did."

Both Samantha and Harvey sat in silence then. Realising it was better to let the agents talk than to try and say anything in Harvey's defense.

"And the only reason that we think you would confess to something you didn't do, would be if you were trying to protect someone. It could be Mike Ross, but my money is on Miss Paulsen," Gutierrez said slowly.

Harvey slowly blinked and he shook his head. Samantha leant forward then, and eyeballed both agents.

"Well, that's a nice story. Do you have any proof to back it up? Because if you don't, my client is leaving right now."

Wade smiled and he placed his pen down on the desk, and crossed his hands in front of him. "Look… Harvey, is it okay if I call you Harvey?" he asked lightly.

Harvey just stared back at him, his heart beating rapidly, but he didn't panic. He was now more sure than ever that the agents wanted something from him.

"Harvey… We've been trying to nail the Karimov's for some time now. The slippery fuckers, always managed to avoid prosecution, we could never find anything concrete on them. Obviously we would've liked to have brought Maxim to justice, and with what we know about Forstman and his brother, Samuel Lang too, but we can't. We still believe that Samuel was killed in self-defense, and you're right, Miss Wheeler, without any evidence it would be difficult to disprove Harvey's statement. However, while we have no desire to prosecute Miss Paulsen, we do need to be seen to be upholding the law—"

"What do you want?" Harvey asked, interrupting Wade, eager to find out what deal they were about to offer.

"Roman Karimov is still at large," Wade answered. "It's only a matter of time, however, before he surfaces and when he does, we want to make sure he doesn't escape justice again. In order to do that, we need you to agree to testify against him."

"That sets him up as a target," Samantha said with a shake of head.

"We need his testimony. If you agree to it, Harvey, then we agree to accept your statement on the understanding that we have no other witnesses that would dispute your version of events and therefore no requirement to forensically search for contradictory evidence."

"As far as we would be concerned. Once Roman is prosecuted and behind bars, the matter is closed," Gutierrez clarified.

Harvey looked across at Samantha and nodded to her, before looking back at the agents in front of him.

"Deal," he said without any further hesitation.

Samantha didn't bother to argue with Harvey. Setting himself up as the prosecution's main witness was not ideal. Roman was now the head of a formidable organised crime gang, and Harvey would undoubtedly be a target, but she knew that if it meant that Donna was no longer in danger of being prosecuted, Harvey would take the deal without question. Besides, at least this way, Harvey would play a part in exacting some revenge on Roman Karimov.

After agreeing to the deal, Samantha insisted that the interview was now over and that Harvey would be going home to finally get some rest. The two agents seemed happy with what had been agreed and confirmed that they would be in touch the next day.

As Samantha and Harvey exited the building, they both paused for a second as they stood on the sidewalk.

"I'm going back to the hospital," Harvey said as he took out his car keys from his pocket.

"No… You're going back home to get some sleep," Samantha snapped.

"I need to see Donna," Harvey said as he went to move away.

"She's sleeping. You need to do the same! There's no way you are driving all the way back to Bridgeport now, Harvey. You haven't slept properly in two days," she snapped, losing her patience with him.

Harvey sighed heavily. He knew she was right. He also knew that Donna was resting and wasn't likely to wake until the morning what with the medication she was on. Mike and Rachel had stayed with her, so he knew she wasn't alone, he just wanted to see her with his own eyes. He needed the visual reassurance that she was okay.

However there was no doubt, he was dead on his feet. His bones ached, his head felt heavy and he knew that he was in no fit state to drive the two-hour journey back to Connecticut. He needed rest.

"Okay," he mumbled.

Samantha pursed her lips and nodded. "I'm going to head home too. My bathtub is most definitely calling to me. Don't worry about Mike, I'll call him and let him know what happened," she said with a small smile.

"Thank you, Samantha… for everything. For all your help," Harvey said sincerely.

"You won't be thanking me tomorrow when I kick your ass for blindsiding me and Mike like that. I'd beat the shit out of you right now, but I'm too tired," she said with a grimace.

Harvey quirked his eyebrow and gave her a smirk, but he didn't apologise. They both knew he didn't regret the choice he made and would do it again if he had to.

"Good night, Samantha," he said instead.

"Good night, Harvey," she reciprocated, before she turned and walked away.

Harvey decided that as tired as he was, he would walk home. It was easy enough to let the car club collect his car from the precinct in the morning. Besides, his condo was only a few blocks away and he could do with the fresh air.

As he walked, he finally allowed his mind to revisit everything that had happened that day. He felt numb to it, though. So much danger, such high stakes, such horror. He found it hard to comprehend. The worst was over for sure, but there was still so much to process. He still felt a deep sense of unease.

As he entered his building he nodded to the concierge and wearily made his way into the elevator. The silence of the metal box as it climbed the many floors to the penthouse, felt disconcerting. He needed a drink.

He unlocked his front door and rounded the corner into his living room with the intention of making a beeline for his drinks cabinet. He stopped dead in his tracks, however, when he spotted Paula sat on his couch.

"Paula!" he said in shock. It was now about two in the morning, and while he may have temporarily forgotten that she lived with him, it was the fact that she wasn't in bed that puzzled him.

She looked up at him with wide eyes. "Harvey!" she said almost nervously. "We have a visitor."

Harvey frowned. Then he turned pale when he heard the doors to his balcony slide open and Roman stepped into the living room.

He grinned as he lifted a tumbler full of single malt to his lips and took a large gulp. "Fucking great views you've got here, Harvey!"