It's well after 8pm when Harvey and Mike finally get back to the firm that night. The meeting they had to attend ran long and to make matters worse they hadn't even gotten out of it what they wanted. Mike was able to let it slide pretty quickly, focusing on what's ahead. Harvey, however, has gotten in a bad mood; all the misfortunes of the day having built up so much that Mike sees his tense shoulders and is afraid he might explode soon. "Why don't you get a headstart on drafting a proposal for the meeting with the LuvaCorp lawyers tomorrow," Mike looks at Harvey, "then I'll try to do whatever I can to dig up something on Neil." He assumes that it's better to distract Harvey with something instead of letting him spiral further into anger and frustration.
Harvey pulls his arms out of the sleeves of his jacket as he walks into his office. He's about to throw the piece of fabric over one of the chairs in front of his desk when he notices who is sitting there. "Donna." He sighs, not up for another confrontation after the day he had. She looks at him while he drops down in his chair, "can we talk?" She asks him. He looks at her, his dark eyes finding her hazel pair. Deep down he knows that he should say yes, especially after her hesitancy to talk the past few days. But he's tired and agitated and their fight from earlier is still in his head. "No," he replies shortly, "I have to draft a proposal for Mike." She leans forward a little, "Harvey, please…" Usually her begging is effective, but now it only gets on his nerves. "No, Donna," without really meaning to, he raises his voice, "you didn't have time for me this morning, I don't have time for you know."
Donna glares at Harvey, but he doesn't seem to let the childish behavior go. "Fine." She huffs, "but don't ever whine to me about coming to talk to you again." She tells him in a low voice as she gets up. "Fine." He replies, flipping open his laptop and focusing his attention there.
As soon as Donna straightens herself, the pain that she has been fighting all day – that seems better when she is sitting down – comes at her in full force. She hears a ringing in her ears; a high-pitched tone, drowning out every other sound around her. Her breathing has sped up and her fingers start to tingle. She feels weak, but she doesn't want to sit down again, not after Harvey brushed her off like that. She takes a step towards the door, but then stops; her legs feeling shaky and almost numb underneath her. The fingers of her right hand curl around the back of her chair, steadying herself. "Donna?" Harvey's voice sounds like it's coming from very far away. She tries to respond, but her vocal cords don't obey to the order from her brain. She turns back towards him, wanting to look at him, but black spots cloud her vision and she can't seem to focus her gaze.
"Donna?" Harvey repeats, looking at his wife. She stood up forcefully, at which he kept his gaze firmly down. But then she stopped, which made him look up. Her eyes are wide and her face paled a few shades in a matter of seconds. She's swaying on her legs, looking very much out of it. All the harsh words they spoke to each other take the backseat to a heavy concern. "Donna?" He calls out her name a third time, standing up when she doesn't respond. He's just about to round his desk when her legs give way and she collapses to the floor with a heavy thud.
Donna's eyes fly open, it takes her a short moment to get her bearings. She's on the floor, and her confused brain needs another second to realize how she got there. Harvey falls to his knees next to her just as she pushes herself up into a seated position. A soft moan escapes her lips as the pain comes back to her. "Donna," Harvey looks slightly mortified as he lays a hand on her shoulder, "easy, easy." He mumbles, moving his hand to her back to support her a little. It takes her another minute to become fully aware of her surroundings – and her own body. Then she tries to get back up, which doesn't work as well as she planned. She feels uncoordinated and clumsy and pain slashes through her.
Harvey sees Donna's face contorting in pain when she tries to get up. "Come," he wraps one of his arms around her waist, the other getting a hold of her arm. Carefully, he helps her up. She sways on her legs and he pulls her in a little closer to him, so he can steady her. Her body is heavy against his as he leads her to the couch, easing her down in a lying position; head against the armrest and legs over the full length of the couch. Then he kneels next to her, taking her hand in between both of his. "What happened there, Donna?" He softly asks. She turns her head to look at him, eyes still a little unfocused. "I don't know," she mumbles, "everything went black." He nods, that's the part that he understands. He quietly squeezes her hand, not really knowing what to say.
Minutes pass in silence. Harvey keeps his gaze trained on Donna, getting increasingly worried as she stays silent and doesn't seem to recover from passing out. With his thumb he rubs circles over the back of her hand while he looks at her. Her ghostly pale skin, her wide eyes, her limp body. Suddenly she straightens up, wincing in pain again. "Hey," he holds her back by putting his hands on her shoulders. "I feel sick… I'm gonna throw up." Her body is starting to tense again. He doesn't hesitate for a second, sprinting to his desk, getting his trashcan from under it and heading back to Donna. She grips her fingers around the edge and he quickly pulls her hair out of her face, just in time before she doubles over and empties her stomach content in the trashcan.
A little while later, Donna lowers the trashcan to the ground and shakily lies back. Harvey lets her soft red hair slip from his hands, carefully tucking a strand behind her ear. He looks at her worriedly. "Is this related to you not feeling well the past few days?" He asks her eventually. She nods, tiredly closing her eyes. "Then I'm calling a doctor." He decides, letting go of her hand. Her eyes open again when he breaks the contact and she watches him as he walks over to his desk to grab his phone before getting back to her and reaching for her hand. Their fingers intertwine effortlessly, and her eyelids fall back down, knowing that she's safe with him at her side.
Donna slowly breathes in and out, trying to keep her breathing as shallow as possible because over the day she figured out that's a way to keep the pain in her abdomen bearable. Harvey is on the phone already, she tries to listen to what he's saying, but another wave of nausea passes through her and it takes all her focus to keep herself from throwing up again. Unknowingly she tenses her body, thereby squeezing Harvey's hand. She only becomes aware of it when Harvey softly squeezes back. She forces herself to open her eyes and she catches his gaze. He rubs her hand with his thumb and sends her a concerned, tight-lipped smile. He's obviously trying to reassure her, but she can see the distress in his eyes; making guilt wash over her for worrying him.
Harvey tries to explain the situation to the doctor on the other side of the line, in the process becoming painfully aware of how much he doesn't know. Sure, he can explain in excruciating detail how he watched her drop to the floor and then wake up, eyes filled with pain. But he can't tell how long she's been feeling sick and what her exact symptoms are. He looks at her. She's closed her eyes again and he softly squeezes her hand, needing to get her attention. "When did it start?" He asks once she looks at him, "the not feeling well?" She thinks for a second, "Monday… I think," her voice is soft and sounds strained, "and yesterday was better, but today it got so much worse." He nods, giving her hand a soft squeeze again, "stomachache, nausea and maybe a fever, right?" As she nods, he narrows his eyes and moves his hand to her forehead, "definitely a fever now," he mumbles when he feels the heat eminating from her skin.
After a few more minutes of Harvey being on the phone and occasionally asking Donna a question, he ends the call and turns his full attention to her. He puts his phone down and softly rubs her leg with his now free hand. "I'm going to take you to the hospital," he declares. She shakes her head, "just take me home, Harvey. I'll be fine." He raises his eyebrows, truly stunned by her protest. She tries to enforce her words by getting up, but even raising herself into a seated position makes her whimper softly, and she lowers herself back down. "Sure," Harvey reacts drily, "you'll be fine." She looks at him, defeat in her hazel eyes. It's not a look he's seen often, and he doesn't like it. "I'm sorry, Donna," he softly says, "but we need to get you checked out. The doctor seemed worried that you got so much sicker today."
Harvey gives Donna a little time to wrap her head around the fact that she came into his office to talk and now they're leaving to get her to the hospital. When she eventually pushes herself upright, he wraps his arm around her shoulder and helps her sitting up. He softly rubs her back as she slowly breathes in and out, her eyes closed again. They sit side by side for a few minutes, until Donna opens her eyes and nods at him. He lets his arm slide from her shoulders to her waist, tightening his grip so he can support her. Together they stand, Donna leaning into him. With their bodies close together, he can feel her swaying a little. "Should you be wearing those heels?" He asks her, quite sure that they're making her more unstable than she already is. She grips his shoulder and then turns her head to look at him, "I can't very well go out barefoot, can I?" She softly quips. He sees a slight twinkle in her eyes. It's not much, but it's enough to make the knot in his chest feel a little less tight.