Chapter VII

Harvey feels paralyzed as he stares at the dull gray walls that surround the hospital's waiting room. The noisy ceiling fan that hangs above his head turns around too slow, making the room feel hotter than it should, and it is slowly driving him crazy. He tugs at the collar on his neck in hopes to make more room for his throat to breathe, but even when he tries to take slow inhales, he feels the air wearing thin around him, and the dull ache on his chest burns even tighter.

Sirens blaring.

His heart beating so fast it might break open his chest.

Donna's cold body lying on his arms.

Paramedics shouting medical argon he doesn't understand as they strap Donna into a gurney.

Panic so bad he's left frozen in place.

It's been two hours and a half since they brought Donna to the New York Presbyterian Hospital.

He doesn't remember exactly how long it took for the ambulance to arrive at that damned alley. Time had frozen for him the moment Donna lost consciousness on his arms and frankly, he doesn't remember much after that. He has the vague idea of a couple of paramedics stepping in, grabbing Donna from his arms, strapping her to a gurney and placing an oxygen mask before getting her into the ambulance. He hadn't wanted to let her go, but he was forced to as another paramedic noticed his distress and held him in place the moment he began panicking on site.

After that, everything is a blur.

He knows Samantha helped him to Ray's car and ordered the man to take them to the hospital as fast as possible, but he has no recollection of the ride itself. All he knows is that for the last two hours and a half he has been waiting for some news on Donna, and so far no one has been able to tell him anything.

"The doctors are doing the best that they can Mister Specter", is all he's heard. But it isn't enough. He needs to hear – to see for himself – that Donna is okay. That she's alive and safe and that she didn't die on his fucking arms.

The annoying sound of the slow ceiling fan that's been bothering him suddenly stops working at a halt and it only adds to his despair because the warm air of the room is insufferable, and he feels like he's suffocating as memories of tonight's events keep running wild on his head, and only one thought keeps him from spiraling further:

He cannot fucking lose her. Not like this.

He didn't deny his feelings for god-damned thirteen fucking years, for him to lose her now that he had finally gotten his shit together.

Why when it finally looked like he could give themselves the chance to be happy together, did this had to happen? Why couldn't he protect her from all this shit?

But the truth is, their relationship is a mess.

For the past few weeks Donna has been struggling with terrible office harassment coming from Faye, suffering panic attacks on her own, barely being able to eat, sleep or function and on top of that he apparently just took his abusing ex-boss as a client and he had no fucking idea about any of this!

He wonders how he hasn't earned ´The Worst Boyfriend of the Year´ award yet but he sure is competing for first place. He feels so fucking powerless and helpless and knowing that his obliviousness to everything that was going on is what has put Donna in jeopardy, is a thought he simply can't handle.

He unbuttons another button from his shirt as he buries his face between his hands, his chest expanding and contracting at an uneven pace. He feels like he's going to be sick again – his stomach has been tied in a knot ever since he arrived to the hospital, and he has excused himself to use the public restroom more times that he can count – but he forces the bile down.

If anything, he wonders probably deserves to feel as shitty as he does right now.

He deserves it, for putting the woman he declares to love so much, through so much hell.

He had once promised her he would never let anything happen to her, and he has let her down in such a terrible way…

Donna's bruised, cold body lying on his arms.

Blood dripping down his hands.

Paramedics trying to resuscitate her.

The blaring, red sirens of the ambulance deafening him.

The weak hold of her hand.

The bruises on her beautiful, perfect face.

Blood. So much blood.

Her life withering away just when they were starting a life together.

The void on his chest when he pictures her dead body on a casket –

"You holding up okay?" Louis' nervous voice interrupts his train of thought, and he stares him down with a worried frown offering one of the two coffee cups he's holing out.

He gives the man a short nod as he takes a deep breath to keep his anxiety under control. They both know he isn't, but he extends his hand to accept the coffee and let the liquid soothe his aching throat. It tastes awful, but the caffeine helps him keep the small amount of sanity he still has left in him.

As soon as they had arrived at the hospital, Samantha had done him the favor of calling everyone and updating them on the situation. Their friends soon enough arrived, all of them expressing how worried they were about Donna and promised to keep him company until they received any news on her. He appreciates the gesture – he really does – but right now he's barely in the state of mind to pay attention to anything else that isn't Donna.

The group had remained on the waiting room, expecting news of Donna to arrive on any second. But after two hours of just mindless waiting, worried stares and the clock nearing almost two a.m., they decided to take a little break at the hospital's cafeteria and get something to eat. Despite everyone's insistence on getting Harvey to take some air, he stubbornly remained at the waiting room, claiming that he had to be there the moment someone had any news.

"I asked at the nurse's station again," the lawyer states as she takes a seat next to Harvey, "they said a doctor should be here soon to update us on Donna."

Harvey nods again, "thanks Louis," he mutters and takes a sip from the coffee cup.

Louis shifts uncomfortably on his seat. He isn't used to see Harvey in such a vulnerable state, but the way Samantha had told him in confidence how he had panicked when they found Donna, confirms his determination of not leaving him alone despite his uneasiness.

He knows Harvey isn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve, that he manages to keep a cool, logical attitude even in the most stressing situations; but he also knows that when it comes to Donna all logic seems to fly out of the window, and he's willing to risk everything to protect her. And if the hopeless and crestfallen demeanor he's wearing is anything to go by, he is sure his walls are cracking open and guesses that right now what his friend needs is his support.

"You know she's going to be okay, right?" Louis ventures as he watches Harvey suck on a deep breath and slowly turn to him. Red rimmed eyes and a clenched jaw are the most prominent aspects of his pale face and Louis realizes he has never seen him cry before.

"I really hope so," Harvey confesses, his low and serious voice exposing a layer of vulnerability Louis had never seen before. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything – " he cuts himself short, a knot forming on his throat as he finds himself unable to finish the thought, and he feels tears threatening to fall as he tries to find his voice once more, "if anything – "

"It won't." Louis cuts him short. "Donna's strong and she's stubborn. She'll survive this, and I promise we will all be helping you both get through this."

Harvey nods, the ghost of a smile drawing on his lips. "I really appreciate it, Louis," and he lets the man put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Miss Donna Paulsen's family?"

Suddenly the so awaited doctor appears on the waiting room and Harvey and Louis jump in unison at the request, both anxious to receive any news. The doctor, a young petite woman with short dark blonde hair and red glasses asks them her relation to the patient.

"Harvey Specter, her boyfriend," the lawyer introduces himself to the doctor and shakes her hand in a hurry, "I'm also listed as her emergency contact."

"Ahh right Mr. Specter", the doctor says as she corroborates the patient's information chart on the clip board she's holding. "My name is Dr. Ada Meyer, I'm in charge of Miss Paulsen's case."

"First of all, let me just say that Miss Paulsen is very lucky. Given the condition she was brought in, it's a miracle she was able to resist for so long." Dr. Meyer begins explaining. "When the paramedics first tended to her, they reported a concussion which caused the lost of consciousness, as well as lacerations on her face, chest, ribs and arms. It also says here that she crashed a couple of times during the ambulance ride and suffered with internal bleeding that caused severe hypotension and tachycardia. However, once we managed to control the bleeding and stabilize her vitals she was out of danger. She has a severe concussion because of the blow she received on her head. We did an MRI scan, and it doesn't seem to be any brain damage, however we would like to repeat it once she wakes up to rule out any kind of injury. She also has a couple of bruised ribs which will need to be carefully treated in order to prevent any further damage. Bandages have already been applied where necessary and so far, we don't suspect any sort of infection which is a good sign."

"So, she is okay?" Harvey nervously asks, "is she awake now, can we go see her?"

"At the moment, she is out of danger Mr. Specter," the doctor clarifies, "meaning she is stable now, but we do have to keep her for a couple of days to see how her condition progresses. She is extremely weak and dehydrated, and the wounds she's carrying will take a toll on her health. However, as long as her body responds well to the treatments we're giving her and she takes it easy for the next days; she could make a full recovery. I don't like to make any promises; but in this case, I truly believe she has a high chance of making it out okay."

Harvey takes a deep, relieved breath, a soft "thank God" escaping out of his mouth as some color returns to his defeated complexion and he feels Louis hand patting his upper back, also in relief.

"Now, before we chant victory, there is something I'd like to ask you Mr. Specter," the doctor resumes.

"Of course, w-what is it?"

"We had to take some blood tests in order to decide the course of the treatment we're currently giving Miss Paulsen, and we were very worried to find a surprisingly low count of red blood cells as well as some deficit of vitamin B12 and iron. This indicates some type of anemia. Do you know if Miss Paulsen has any history of anemia? Has she presented any symptoms like fatigue, loss of appetite, maybe even dizziness or frequent headaches?"

Harvey pales at the question. He remembers that for the past weeks he had been worried about her health. The sudden lack of appetite, the poor sleeping patterns, the fact that she always seems to be exhausted and she wakes up to throw up every single morning. The fight they had had that morning at his apartment because of this exact thing seems to have happened a lifetime ago, and the short relief of knowing she's okay vanishes at his new-found guilt of having witnessed her having all of these symptoms and not having forced her to do anything about it.

"She's had all of those," Harvey replies, emotion palpable on his tone and Louis eyebrows come into a worried frown as he remembers himself how sick and weak he had seen Donna earlier that day. "I had noticed for the past, maybe two, three weeks she had been feeling a little sick but I guess I thought it was just due to stress and I didn't pressure her to go to the doctor. I probably should have though…"

"Okay, I see," Dr. Meyer says as she writes down the information on her clip board. "Excessive stress can be one of the many causes of anemia, but we will have to investigate deeper once Miss Paulsen wakes up. However, you must be aware that this condition can slow her recovery process as her body is extremely weak and will need lots of rest in order to compensate for the blood loss."

"I'll do my best to guarantee she gets as much rest as she needs," Harvey amends, and the doctor – seeing how much distress the situation is causing him – sympathetically smiles back to him. "Is there any chance that I can go see her now? I need to make sure she's okay. Please."

The doctor clips her tongue. "Under normal circumstances I would advise you to go home, get some sleep and come back tomorrow. However, seeing how worried you and your friends are, and considering the fact that we've kept you waiting for so long, I will let you go and sit with her, as long as you promise me you won't try to wake her up and let her rest."

Harvey sighs in relief when he hears the permission of the doctor to visit Donna. He also hears Louis's relief as he proposes to go update the others while he goes visit Donna and he thanks him with a short nod. Soon enough the doctor signals him to follow her and takes him to ICU aisle where Donna's room is.

As soon as he locates the door, he feels his hands clam up. He doesn't know in what state he'll find her and his mind is suddenly filled with the image of her lying almost lifeless at that dark alley. He shivers at the memory, and tries to control the shake of his hand as he swivels open the door handle.

The moment he lays eyes on her though, he feels his whole world shatter.

Donna's ghostly pale form is lying on a hospital bed. Her weak and ashen complexion looks almost drained of life and he has to take a deep breath reminding himself that she is indeed okay. There is an IV hooked on her right arm with some fluids, and he spots that her left one is hooked to a blood transfusion bag. He can also see that there's a small nasal cannula tube going right into her nostrils, and the doctor steps in to explain that the instrument is meant to help regulate her breathing and that they will remove it as soon as she wakes up. She's also connected to a bunch of machines, some of them showing constant statistics and numbers he has no idea what they're for but prefers not to ask.

He takes the chair beside her bed and sits with a loud thump. He has never been a fan of hospitals, the imagery they bring reminding him of the time Marcus was so sick as a kid he had to be hospitalized for a whole month, and of course of his father, and his visit to the hospital to pick up the body the day after he died. The memories themselves send a chill down his spine and right now he just wants to keel over.

"I know it's hard to see a loved one in these types of situations," the doctor comments upon seeing his clear anguish. "However, despite how scary all the medical equipment might look, let me remind you that your girlfriend is okay. She'll probably won't wake up until tomorrow, and even then, she might be very confused and disorientated because of the drugs we've given her. Nonetheless, you are welcomed to sit by her side. She'll probably want a familiar face once she wakes up."

Harvey nods and gives the doctor a tight-lipped smile as she leaves the room. She's right, Donna is going to need him when she wakes up and despite how much it hurts to see her like this, he needs to be the stronger one for her.

He takes the chair next to bed and moves it closer so he can hold her hand without interfering with the IV line. Her skin feels deadly cold and her frailty shocks him.

For so long, she has always been his rock when things are tough; he's so used to her being his guide, giving him the strength he needs when he thinks he can't fight any longer, and so having the roles reversed makes him feel lost and out of place.

She is his rock, and when she crumbles, he simply shatters.

He really doesn't know how she does it – how she remains so strong and carries so much weight with a smile on her face – but he promises himself he can't let her down once again.

It's the least that he can do for all the things she's given up for him.

And so he stays by her side, softly rubbing circles on the skin of her hand, stroking every now and then the wisps of red hair that threaten to fall out of place, whispering in a quiet voice how much he loves her and how much he needs her to come back to him and be okay, until exhaustion claims him over and his head falls next to the crook of her neck.


Pain.

That's the first thing she becomes aware of when consciousness reclaims her again.

Pain so excruciating it feels more like a giant boulder sitting on her chest that keeps her from being able to completely wake up.

She tries to force open her eyelids, but even forcing those small muscles feels like an enormous task, and she lets out a whimper.

"Donna!"

She hears someone calling from afar and feels a soft pressure on her right hand. She tries to squeeze back but her fingers merely twitch and the hold on her hand becomes stronger.

"Come on Don, wake up for me, please."

There's only one person who calls her Don, and she immediately knows Harvey is here. His request doesn't go unnoticed and despite how tired she feels her heart can't help but bend blindly at his plea.

She tries again, this time getting her eyelids to open halfway, and she blinks away the blur that forms around her sight. They first thing she spots is the white ceiling; an antiseptic odor fills her lungs and she faintly notices the annoying beep of a machine behind her head. For a moment the unknown environment scares her and she feels the panic building on her chest, but another soft grip on her right hand forces her attention to the grounding touch and she tilts her head in that direction.

When her tired eyes finally land on his, all she can focus on is the warmth of his chocolate eyes and the mere sight of him is enough to calm down her racing heart, a sense of calmness filling her, making her feel protected even though she doesn't know exactly from what.

"H-Harv-ey?"

Relief runs through his veins when he finally sees her wake up, and he lets out a shaky breath that turns into a small grateful smile. However, the weak, broken, pained quality of her voice swells his heart – her fragility being something he doesn't know how to deal with – and he squeezes her hand with a little more force, reassuring her of his presence.

"It's okay, I'm here," he smiles, battling the tears that are welling on his eyes, because for once he needs to be the stronger one for her.

She nods slightly, the small smile drawing on her lips coming out more like a pained grimace. She feels the hold on her hand grow steadier and tries to squeeze back finding that even making such small movements draws so much energy out of her.

"It's good to have you back," he amends but she just stares blankly at him, exhaustion and confusion behind her gaze, and he remembers that the doctor had warned him she might be like this until the drugs wear out.

"Har…-vey," she calls to him again, but her voice sounds weak and she tries clearing her throat, "w-where are we?…W-what ha-happened?"

He tenses his jaw, and he breaks eye contact for a second not knowing how to explain everything that had happened if she really doesn't remember.

"You had an accident," he explains lightly, guessing that's the easiest way to put it down. "We're at the hospital, but don't worry you're going to be fine. You'll need to take it easy for a couple of days, but you'll be okay, alright?"

She immediately knows he's omitting information, the way his posture had tensed up for a second or two revealing his true thoughts, but she feels too tired to press him about it. Confusing images flood her brain and she gets a shiver down her spine as she realizes she doesn't know if what she's thinking really happened or not.

Her head feels fuzzy and heavy as she tries to locate a single memory, but it all feels confusing, like she's in a daze and the only thing her mind can focus on is the tight feeling on her chest, her lungs starting to struggle to breathe as the pain becomes all consuming.

Harvey doesn't think twice as he presses the alarm button above her bed upon seeing her sudden distress. One moment she was relatively fine, the next she began hyperventilating and he isn't sure if her panic has only to do with the shock of finding herself in a hospital, or if the wounds on her ribcage are responsible for it.

"Donna, what's wrong?" he asks, as he rubs calming circles on her hand, worry palpable on his tone.

"C-can't…b-brea…the," she gasps, her brow revealing how scared she actually feels.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay, just try to breathe with me," he tries to remain calm, as he places her hand on his chest, near his heart, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths to help her through.

He starts counting breaths, but the next thing he knows is that Dr. Meyer rushes into the room accompanied with two nurses and they quickly make their way over to Donna, checking her airways, and vitals on the machines that surround her bed. He sees one of the nurses adjust on the oxygen cannula and he's forced to step back as the other nurse takes his place and injects what he guesses is some kind of sedative on Donna's IV.

He hears Dr. Meyer's serene tone as she tries to calm Donna down and it's just a few seconds later that Donna is looking much more relaxed, her breathing slowly, but surely, coming to a more even pace.

"She's just in shock," the doctor explains to him as he makes a few notes on her clipboard. "It's normal for patients to experience feelings of panic when they wake up in a hospital, especially after suffering traumatic experiences. We gave her something to help her relax. Just make sure she takes it easy."

He thanks her with a simple nod, and she leaves the room as he takes once again the chair next to Donna's bed and reaches out to hold her hand.

Her fingers interlace with ease around his, and the moment his eyes land on her face, he's devastated to see the hurt and confusion on her features, tears forming on the brim of her eyes.

"M' sorry," she whimpers, and it shatters his already broken heart.

"Shh, you don't have to be sorry. It's going to be okay, you're going to be okay," he tries to reassure as he places a delicate thumb on her pale face, collecting the salty tears. He tries to be extra careful, mindful of the bruises that cover her face and afraid to hurt her even more, but the way her jaw trembles and she tries to lean closer into his contact lets him know she needs the comfort more than anything else. "You feeling a little bit better?"

"Yeah…" she nods lightly, hazel eyes boring deeply into his trying to find anything she could anchor to. He leans in closer, drawing delicate, soft circles on her cheek giving her the strength and comfort she needs and when she feels another wave of pain hit her – making her eyes flutter close for a brief second with a tight grimace – he doesn't let her go, instead holding her through the pain.

When she looks at him again though, she can't help but feel responsible for his worried and questioning gaze and she sinks further into her pillow, eyelids growing heavier, "just…really t-tired…"

"You should try to get some more rest," he proposes, and begins tucking her cold body with the extra blankets that he found at the foot of her bed. The drowsiness of the drugs she was given begins to cloud her consciousness and she feels herself slipping away as Harvey bends down to place a soft, tender kiss on her hairline.

"C-can you…h-hold me?"

Her voice is barely there, and he's sure she's mumbling incoherently in her sleep, until she weakly tugs his hand.

"Please…it's just…I n-need you…"

That does it.

The quiver of her voice takes him back to that Liberty Rail case; how much she had begged him to take time to comfort her and how blunt he had been denying his attention to her, convinced he was doing the right thing. He may have been an asshole back then – letting his fear of losing her blind him to her emotional needs – but he's not that man anymore, and so he relents to her plea, gingerly taking her in his arms as lays his upper body in an uncomfortable position on the side of the tiny hospital bed. With great care, he slowly slips his left arm behind her, cautious of her wounds as to not hurt her more than she already is. Her weak body molds immediately into his, and he places her head on his chest, trying to be as careful as possible.

He's sure this is going to earn him some sort of reprimand from Dr. Meyer, but the frail smile that draws on her lips as he smooths her hair down and whispers how much he loves her is worth the risk. "Try to sleep now, okay?"

She doesn't answer this time, but he keeps his eyes fixed on her in case anything happens, and it's not until he feels her breathing deepening, her body becoming limp indicating she's completely out, that he feels himself relax. He hasn't given himself a moment to process his emotions – all the while trying to remain strong for Donna's sake – but seeing the weakened and frightened state she has been left in after her attack, makes him sick with worry and rage.

Someone did this to her, and he can't help the feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him that everything that happened last night wasn't an accident. From Faye assigning him Lowenstein as a client, to Donna's forced exit out of the firm and her unusual attack wasn't just a mere coincidence. It was a perfectly laid out plan, and if his instinct is right Faye isn't working on this alone.

His mind starts reeling, coming down with a list of all the things he needs to do to make Donna justice and how he's going to make whoever is behind this pay with their lives for risking the most important person in his. He is willing to go through hell and back if that's what it takes; but the gentle rise and fall of her chest against his ribcage reminds him that right now she is his priority. She needs him – not only by being her lawyer doing whatever it takes to fix this, but also by being her partner, offering the emotional support she requires right now – and this time he's not going to leave her side.


It's almost eight thirty when he wakes up from the light slumber he didn't notice he had succumbed to. He checks Donna over, she's still deeply asleep on his chest and he lets his finger delicately comb away a couple of the strands of hair that had fallen to her face, careful not to disturb her sleep. When she had woken up it was around five in the morning, and he guesses it will probably be a couple more of hours until she wakes up again.

A soft knock brings him out of his reverie, and he suddenly spots Samantha on the doorway, silent eyes asking for his permission to enter the room. He props himself on his elbows – a little embarrassed to be found in this position – but he's careful not to jostle Donna, and the blonde woman takes it as a hint to make her way over to Donna's bed.

"Hey, how is Donna doing?" she asks in a quiet voice.

"She's okay," Harvey explains, "she woke in the early morning a little disorientated, but the doctor said she will be okay."

"I'm glad. Everyone at the firm sends their best wishes. They can't wait to come visit." Samantha says, a sad smile grazing her features as she glances over to Donna's pale and bruised body. "Louis and Alex already left for the office. They're going to cover up for you today and also try to find something in the bylaws to revoke Donna's resignation."

"Good," he acknowledges and makes a mental note to call Louis later to thank him for his support last night and update him on Donna's condition. But right now, there's a more important issue pressing on his mind.

"Listen Samantha," he begins, lifting now completely from his lying position. "I've been thinking, and something about this doesn't feel right. This is not a coincidence. Donna getting attacked right after she's forced to resign? It doesn't add up. I think Faye and Lowenstein are somehow behind this and–"

"I know. Louis and I were talking precisely about this last night," she confesses, and Harvey gives her an annoyed look showing he's bothered for not being informed about it before. "We didn't want to bother you," she explains. "Anyway, I'm going to do some investigation on Lowenstein and find out what his connection to Donna really was. We need to know what's really going on here before we do anything. I told you Harvey, that man is dangerous, and I wouldn't be surprised if this has anything to do with him."

"Yeah, me neither," he scoffs cynically, tensing his jaw in a resolute manner. She knows he would burn the whole city down if it meant saving Donna, but because of that same reason she knows they need to be careful with this. If what she thinks is going on happens to be true, they'll need to keep Harvey in check before he does anything stupid.

"I have a couple of connections at the NYPD, I can get them to take Donna's statement about her attacker once she's feeling up to it," she amends instead, "but right now you should focus on her."

His gaze travels back to the woman lying on the hospital bed and she can't even begin to imagine what it must be like for him to go through this. Harvey's not one for sentimentalism, but the short amount of time she has been at the firm is enough to let her know that his feelings for the redhead are true and for a man who claims that ´caring only makes you weak´, he certainly cares a lot about Donna.

"Look, I can't tell you it's going to be easy, but we've got your back. You and Donna are not alone in this. Donna needs you here, we can take care of the rest."

"Thanks Samantha," he mumbles through a tight-lipped smile.

"One more thing Harvey, have you called Donna's parents yet?" she asks as she heads for the door.

Shit, he had totally forgot about that.

"I- uhm," he stumbles over his words, the idea of having to break the news to his parents-in-law, especially to Jim, making his guts tie in a hard knot. It was not that long ago that the man practically hated him just for being in a relationship with Donna, and now he'll have to tell them about this. "I hadn't really thought much about that."

"It's your call, but I think Donna could really use the support right now."


His call with Jim and Clara doesn't go better than he had thought. He had expected the worried reaction, Clara's frantic urgency, saying something about buying tickets for the first flight tomorrow morning, Jim's incessant questioning about what exactly happened. He relies as much information as possible, mentioning what he remembers the doctor had told him about her injuries, and promises they're taking good care of her. But what really strikes him, is Jim's cold comment about failing to protect her and he can't help but feel guilty about it. The man's not wrong, he should have done a better job at protecting Donna, he should have been more attentive to what was going on. But what's done it's done, and the only thing he can do is promise them they're doing everything they can to find her attacker.

After he hang up with Donna's parents, he called Gretchen and asked her to send him his office laptop with an associate so that he could take care of some emails while he waited for Donna to wake up. The secretary complied and soon enough an associate showed up at the hospital with his computer, a bouquet of flowers and a get-well-soon card for Donna signed by most of the law firm's employees. He smiled at the gesture, he knew Donna was very well appreciated at the fir,, but seeing these kind of gestures made him feel less alone in his agony.

A nurse had run by earlier, checking Donna's vitals and assured him that everything was looking okay. It would take some time for her to wake up again, she explained, as her body probably needed much rest after last night's panic attack. The nurse proceeded to refill the IV bag with another transparent liquid and after checking some numbers on one of the machines she removed the oxygen cannula stating that it was no longer required.

Harvey smiled at the fact, seeing Donna without the oxygen cannula and just one IV bag made him feel like some normalcy was returning. Her skin was still deadly pale, and she sported dark circles under her eyes; the cuts and bruises that covered her body only made her look even sicker.

And still, he couldn't help but think she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

He spends the rest of the morning perched on the chair next to her bed, one hand holding her, the other checking some work emails on his laptop, which was a much-needed distraction so that he could keep himself sane while he waited for her to wake up. When the clock strikes twelve, he thinks about going up to the hospital cafeteria and getting himself something to eat. After all he hasn't eaten a single bite since yesterday's lunch, but he doesn't want to leave Donna alone and so his concern for her outweighs his need for food.

To his own surprise it isn't long before that the nurse who had visited earlier drops by with a cup of coffee and a brown paper bag with a bagel inside for him. "We thought you might need a boost," she explains.

Apparently, the nurses at the station were completely moved by his unwavering dedication to Donna ever since he came to the hospital last night looking so distressed and anguished for her. He feels guilty, if they knew the truth, they would know he is anything but the perfect boyfriend; but accepts the food nonetheless needing the refreshment.

It takes another four hours before Donna gives any other signs of consciousness. He's relieved when he notices the small twitches of her fingers, her head tilting slightly from side to side and he calls her out, guessing she's about to wake up. But when he hears low whimpers escaping her lips, strangled "no's" and "stop's" breaking the silence, he can't help but worry.

"Don. Donna. Come on wake up," he calls, applying a soft pressure on her upper arms, not wanting to hurt her in the process.

"N-no…please…st-top…", she simply shakes, her pale features twisting in a pained expression, and he places his hand on her forehead, checking for a fever, but finding a layer of cold sweat forming instead.

"Shh, come on Don, you're okay, just wake up."

She keeps struggling on his arms, trying to break free from him but finding herself too weak to do so, her breathing grows heavier, and he immediately gets a flashback from the meltdown she had last night. It makes him feel sick to his stomach, but he pushes the thought aside, focusing on helping her as best as he can.

"It's okay, shh, just wake up, please," he tries to sound calm as he gently nudges her shoulder. "You're okay babe, I'm here, but I need you to wake up."

All of a sudden, her eyes dart open, her chest moving up and down in an uneven pace as she tries to adjust to the hospital environment, feeling a wave of panic take hold of her ability to reason. "Shh, it's okay. Just try to relax. You're in the hospital but you're going to be okay," Harvey soothes.

"HARVEY," she wails. Her voice sounds scared and really off, and when her eyes finally land on his confirming his presence, she breaks into a heart-breaking sob, and brings both hands to cover her face, shameful tears making their way down her cheeks. "Oh God," she cries, lips quivering.

"Shh, shh, it's okay just breathe," he says, as he places his warm hands on top of her cold ones, forcing them to unblock her face. She tries to resist, but his soothing words have the desired effect and she ends up letting him uncover her face. When his eyes fall on her she coils back, the compassion and worry they show making her feel almost guilty, but his gentle hands wipe away the tears that don't seem to stop running. He places himself closer to her, taking her shaking hands over to his steady chest and asks her to follow his rhythm. She obeys blindly, finding comfort in the even fall and rise of his chest. "That's it, just breathe. You're doing very good," he praises, and she feels herself starting to relax, her breathing finally evening out.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, once he thinks she has fully recovered, her breathing now slow and even.

"I'm okay now," she admits in a weak voice, a half-smile forming on her lips and tries to prove her point by attempting to sit up on her own but finds her muscles too weak and her torso too painful to be able to lift her aching body, causing an unwanted low whimper to escape her lips.

"Hey, don't push yourself," Harvey warns, placing a hand on her shoulder indicating her to lie down. "Here, let me help," and he pushes the button by the side of her bed that changes the angle of the back, until she reaches a semi-reclined position.

"Thanks," she mumbles. She hates how weak and devoid of life her voice seems to be and tries clearing her throat only to find it feels extremely dry, probably due to her earlier panic attack. "Can you get me some water?"

"Of course." He complies, bringing a plastic cup from the other side of the room. She aims to take the cup on her own, but her shaky hand makes the liquid spill, and he steadies her grip around it, helping her guide down a couple of sips to her lips. "Better?"

She nods gratefully, finding the liquid soothing her throat, and looks back at him. It feels like this is the first time she's really taking a good look at him, and – oh God – he looks like shit. His features look tense and nervous, the dark bags around his tired eyes let her know that he's barely gotten any sleep, and the way his shoulders arch and his chest squares, indicates he's feeling protective out of fear.

"You look tired," she points out, bringing a shaky hand to touch his jaw.

It surprises him, how even in a hospital bed, she manages to worry and take care of him, when it's supposed to be the other way around. He's glad, though, to see that this time around she seems to be more alert and acting more like herself than she did when she woke up in the early morning, but her focus should be on resting and recovering; not worrying about him.

"Well, you know," he takes her lifted hand in his, and places a soft kiss on top of it, shrugging the comment off, "I've been taking care of some things."

A flood of images run through her brain, and she has the vague memory of lying in a dark alley, her body bruised and battered, and then the faint remembrance of having woken up earlier, feeling fuzzy and drugged, panic and fear taking power of her body, but Harvey had been there both times holding her, reassuring that everything was going to be alright.

She feels her heart sink down and she swallows the remorse on her throat as she realizes: he hasn't left her side.

Her jaw quivers and she shifts her head slightly on her side, but the sudden movement seems to put her body on high alert, every bruise on her body screaming in protest, making the pain more acute than it ever was before.

"Ouch," she whimpers through gritted teeth. The pain on her head and ribs made her feel almost dizzy, forcing tears out of her eyes.

"Hey, take it easy," Harvey immediately worries, hating seeing her in pain, and instinctively takes her in his arms, rubbing soft circles on her back trying to alleviate the pain in any way possible, "what's hurting?"

"It's n-nothing," she tries to reassure him, failing to hide her pained grimace, "my head just feels really heavy, and my ribs feel kind of sore…" she explains, "but don't worry, it's passing…"

She takes a couple of deep breaths, and the wave of pain seems to settle after a couple of minutes. He doesn't stop rubbing her back, softly reminding her that she can lean on him, and makes a mental note to tell her doctor to give her something stronger to manage the pain.

"The doctor said you have a concussion and some bruised ribs, as well as some deep bruises and cuts, so you'll need to be careful and take it easy for a couple of weeks," he explains once she has relaxed a little bit more, "she also suspects you're suffering some symptoms of anemia so…"

He leaves the comment lingering, not wanting to go much in detail about it to avoid a repeat of yesterday's fight, and her eyes fall to the ground, not surprised at all with the diagnosis. She knew her weakness and lack of appetite weren't caused by stress only, and she probably should have gone to a doctor. But she has been so consumed by Faye's horrible threats, her own health stopped being a priority in her life.

"That means I'll be here for a while," she finishes for him, sad eyes looking for his confirmation.

"Most likely, maybe a little over a week," he confirms as she sinks further into her pillow exhaling a resigned breath. Knowing her work-acholic nature barely lets her take a day off when she's feeling unwell, he can't imagine how frustrated and defeated she must be feeling. But her body needs the rest, and her sick need to over-work herself is what brought them here, so he's going to put his foot down on this one, no matter how much arguing he knows it'll cause. "Is there anything you need?"

"No, it's okay," she shakes her head, wincing when the unwanted pain threatens to make a comeback. "You should go home, you surely didn't have a good night sleep," she insists, noting how worn out he looks.

"Donna–"

"No Harvey, listen to me," she interrupts him before he can protest, "you don't have to stay here with me, after everything that happened…" Her jaw quivers as her left eye twitches – the way it usually does when she's feeling vulnerable – revealing away her true emotions, and she shakes her head slowly, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"I- you know we're not okay. We haven't been for a while, and I know it's my fault. I've been a terrible girlfriend for the past few weeks and…" she feels the tears forming on her eyelids, daring to cause her to break down and tries to hold back a sob. The truth is, she's still feeling guilty about the argument they had the day before.

He had been worried about her and pushed her to talk about it, but she had bit his head off, claiming there was nothing to talk about, going so low to even insult his attempt to reach out. She remembers she had stormed out of his building feeling like absolute trash for treating him like that when all he wanted to do was help. And now, knowing he hadn't left her side for a second while she went through this horrible ordeal…she can't help but feel guilty about having him here. He's been anything but understanding and gentle, even though she's been a mess…

"I don't deserve you, Harvey," she finally cries, letting her emotions ransack her body in a ravaging sob, "and you certainly don't deserve this!"

"Hey, hey slow down, what are you talking about? What do you mean by not deserving me?" Harvey asks with a frown, concerned about her sudden outburst as he tries to dry the mad tears that keep flowing like a river down her pale cheeks. If anything, he's the one who doesn't deserve her, he thinks, guilt still eating him alive for leaving her to deal with everything on her own.

"No. Don't do that," she insists, trying to get away from his touch. "We were fighting. I said terrible things and you were mad with me. And now you're saying these things because I'm hurt on a hospital bed, but it's okay, you can leave…you don't need to stay here out of pity…"

"DONNA." He sterns his voice, breaking her train of thought. Seeing her battling with apparent guilt for the stupid fight they had yesterday makes his heartbreak in a million pieces. He needs her to know that nothing of what she's thinking is true and so he positions himself in front of her, taking both of her hands with a strong grip, forcing her to face him whether she wants it or not.

He manages a firm but still gentle tone and forces her broken hazel eyes into his. "You know I love you. You know there's no way I'm leaving you here alone, and I hope you know that I'm not staying here out of pity. I love you, Donna, more than anything in this life. Tell me you know that Don," he begs, and he sees the pout forming on her lips as she nods her head feebly, weeping, and he takes her under his arms. "So, what's going on? Why do you want me to leave?"

He lifts her chin with his thumb, compassion coloring his eyes, and she can't help but break down under his gentle, warm and caring embrace, unable to contain any longer the emotions that have been swirling around for the past weeks.

"It's just…I-…I can't," she sniffles, unable to gather her messy emotions in a single coherent thought.

"You can't what?"

"I can't keep doing this," she blurts out, choking a sob, "I-…I can't keep pretending like everything's okay when I feel like I'm breaking down piece by piece…when I-…when I feel like I've lost myself!"

Her emotions have always been a delicate subject; he doesn't know how to deal with his own on most days, let alone with another person's. But because she's Donna, he tries.

"Don, no one is asking you to keep it all together all the time," he gently reminds her, taking her hands in his. "I know you like to keep everything under control, and that you're constantly keeping us all at the firm in check. You make everyone believe you're this invincible woman, but you should know that you don't have to pretend around me…you're allowed to be human too."

"But I can't!" she protests, more tears escaping her eyes, "I…I don't know how to…"

He holds her as she breaks down crying. He's careful with her injuries, keeping his hold gentle around her, but he does apply enough pressure to let her know that he's not going to let her down and places a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

"Shh, it's okay, I know you've been struggling," he confesses, as he runs his finger through her red hair.

"H-how?" she quivers.

"I may not have your superpower to read people as well as you do – but I know you Don, – and I know that you haven't been yourself lately," he points out. "Our friends are also worried: Louis said something about you looking sick, and Gretchen even mentioned you had a panic attack the other day right after you talked with Faye."

"You know about that?" embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

"I do," he admits in a low voice, the tough nature of the topic sitting at the top of his chest. "Why didn't you tell me about it before?"

She doesn't answer and instead buries her head in her hands. "I feel like such a failure," she confesses. "I just keep letting everyone at the firm down…letting you down…I let all of this happen and now I don't even know how to begin fixing any of this…"

"Listen to me, Don: nothing of what's happening is your fault. You're not a failure: you haven't let anybody down, and you certainly haven't let me down," he emphasizes applying soft pressure on her hand, his eyes searching for hers, forcing her to look at him. "But I need you to share with me when something is not going right in your life. We promised each other we would stop hiding from each other; so do you want to tell me what has been really going on?"

Scared eyes look back at him, and her left twitches again, "I…I don't know how to start."

"How about you tell me what's been going with Faye?" he encourages, rubbing a delicate hand on her back.

His calm and understanding behavior surprises her. He's kept himself caring and collected, guiding her through her emotions when she's such a mess and it just occurs to her that they've never had this dynamic. It's always her the one lending out a reassuring hand when he's feeling defeated and the change – although refreshing for once – feels so… foreign…it scares her.

She takes a deep breath. The way his gaze bores into hers lets her know this isn't a conversation she's escaping, and she prepares mentally for what's about to come.

She's always been the shoulder everyone can cry on. But it's always been at the cost of herself because when it comes to her life, she faces her battles alone. She's kept a wall around herself all these years while being everyone's support. But Harvey's right, if their relationship stands a chance, she needs to let him in, and because it's him the one who's asking, she will let her walls down.

"Uhm,…it started about a month ago," she starts, her voice small and ashamed, not sure how Harvey will take what she has to say. "Faye started an investigation against me, said something about my history, making me look like I had questionable ethics, and…everything just went downhill from there…"

"Don, why didn't you tell me? You know I would have put a stop to it from the start if you had–"

"I know," she answers shortly. "But she-… she threatened me. Said that she would disqualify us before the New York Bar if I told you, and…I- I couldn't take it. The thought of having the firm ripped apart from us just because I couldn't handle her pressure on my own. So, I didn't tell you, or anyone about it. I thought that if I laid low for a couple days she would let it go, but she didn't."

"She kept threatening me everyday, assigning me excessive work, constantly telling me I wasn't enough for my position, bringing up all the mistakes I had done before – Coastal Motors, Liberty Rail, Kessler, you name it. She even had the nerve of implying that I had earned my position by sleeping my way there…"

"I think I let it get to me too much, you know? But, I didn't know what to do. I felt cornered, and my body just responded to the stress the way it always does. I didn't even notice when it was that I stopped eating or sleeping…and then the panic attacks came and…well, here we are more or less…"

Harvey remained silent through her retelling of the story, silently cursing Faye on his mind and making a note of sending the woman straight to hell when he got the chance to see her again. But he tries to push those thoughts away, reminding himself he needs to be there for Donna first and foremost.

As soon as she finishes, tears flow down her cheeks again, and what little composure she seemed to keep completely falls apart. He doesn't let her fall, though, catching her right in time in his arms, as he soothes her aching body and soul.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through this," he whispers against her hair, holding her close against him. "I wish you would've told me sooner,"

"I'm sorry," she whimpers against his chest, "I-I honestly don't know how I let it become this mess…"

"It's okay, we're going to figure this out together, I promise."

"I trust you," she smiles backing away a little from him to see him right in the eyes, and for the first time in weeks, he can see some genuineness behind her gesture.

The moment is quickly interrupted as Dr. Meyer appears through the door, with a complaint about not having been called as soon as the patient had woken up. Harvey moves away from the bed, giving her the space needed so that she can check Donna.

The doctor does some checking on the IV and the other machines connected to her bed and asks Donna a couple of questions before briefly listing her diagnosis. She inspects the bandages on her head, face and body and reassures that everything seems to be healing as it should. Despite her lucidity, she does make a point of repeating the MRI scan just to be sure and complies with Harvey's request to give her stronger pills to manage the pain, prescribing them on the clipboard next to Donna's bed.

Once she's done, she leaves the room, not before reminding them that Donna's anemia lab results came back positive and because of that they will start giving her a special diet to help with her iron and vitamin B12 deficit right the next day. She advises Donna to get as much rest as possible, and gives a warning eye to Harvey, insisting he should let her rest and go home instead. He disobeys, of course.

"I'm feeling really exhausted all of a sudden," Donna softly admits once the doctor has gone away, and Harvey isn't surprised at all. The emotional turmoil she has gone through exhausting her on top of her already weakened condition.

"Come on, you really need to rest," he states, lowering her bed into a laying position and tucking her in once more.

There's still a lot they need to talk about. The identity of who attacked her last night still remains at the top of his mind. But he can understand she's tired and today was progress enough as it was.

"Can you lay down here with me?"

He doesn't need to be asked twice, and once again he lays down next to her in the bed, and puts a careful hold around her body, always careful about her injuries.

"You won't leave, right?" she asks, and he understands the double meaning of her question. Her biggest fear being that he would see her differently once she had opened up. But in his eyes, she's still the strongest, most amazing woman he knows, and he kisses her doubts away with a soft peck on her lips.

"You know I'm not going anywhere."


Author's Note: So... I'm back once again!

So sorry for the long unexpected hiatus. Last year ended up being a little bit chaotic, and I struggled to find inspiration to write at the beginning of this new year, but finally, we're here.

I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the lost months, as this is the longest chapter of this story I've written so far.

I really want to thank everyone who has kept reading this story and leaving reviews! You guys honestly make my days, and make me want to keep writing this story!

I hope you enjoy this chapter. I certainly enjoyed writing it, despite it being so angsty. But hey we finally got some Darvey comfort, which had been lacking in this story this far.

I really hope you guys keep interested in this story as I have a lot more planned, and hope to stick to a writing schedule this year to see if we finally give Donna and Harvey a much-needed happy ending.

As always, read and review! See you in the next chapter :)