Just as Harvey and Donna start to relax into each other after their tension-filled conversation, doctor Nix walks in. Donna's eyes fly open at the sounds of his footsteps and Harvey props himself up. Nix briefly nods at him before turning to Donna, "Mrs. Paulsen-Specter, you look a lot better than the last time I saw you," he smiles at her. Harvey can't help but raise his eyebrows at that, he didn't think she could look much worse than she does now.
"I feel better too," Donna agrees. She still feels terrible, but it's a lot better compared to how she felt this afternoon. The doctor nods, taking a look at the monitors before glancing from her to Harvey and back, "nevertheless, I think you should get some rest," he tells her, "and you too," he adds as he looks at Harvey, "you should get back to your own room."
Donna was about to agree with Nix again before his last three words hit her. Your own room. She looks at Harvey, letting her eyes fall from his face to his body – covered in a hospital gown. She feels her heart sinking. How could she not notice this before? Nix is still talking to her, but she doesn't hear any of his words. She keeps looking Harvey up and down. The hospital gown, the exhaustion on his face, wires from under the gown hooked up to the monitor next to the bed – a monitor that hadn't stood out amidst everything she is hooked up to. But still, she can't believe she didn't notice any it before. "What happened?" She asks hoarsely, interrupting Nix in the middle of a sentence.
"Shh, easy," Harvey turns all of his attention to Donna, "don't…" He was going to say don't worry, but the look in her eyes makes him afraid to finish that sentence. She seems furious and worried and afraid all at once. He vaguely hears Nix excusing himself, but he can only focus on his wife, "Donna… it's okay. I'm okay. They just want me to stay for observation. It's really nothing to worry about." He rambles, hoping to convince her. But she has her lips pressed together in a thin line and she raises her eyebrows slightly. If this wasn't about the current subject, Harvey would be glad that she seemed to be able to see right through him again.
"What happened?" Donna presses. Her heart is hammering in her chest, something that the monitor she is hooked up to picks up on. Harvey glances past her at the screen, brow furrowing in worry. "Harvey," she pulls his attention back, "what happened?" Her voice is softer this time, "why are you in a hospital gown?" She searches his face, but she can't figure him out this time. It exasperates her; this is what she is good at, but the drugs are making her so groggy that she can't.
Harvey can see in Donna's hazel eyes that he is not getting out of this. He looks down, following the pattern his fingers are absentmindedly trailing over her arm. "I had a panic attack," he admits quietly. For a moment he isn't sure whether or not she heard his words, but then her arm moves from under his fingers. She takes his hand in hers and squeezes tightly. "Harvey… I thought that didn't happen anymore?" She asks, her voice low with emotion. "It didn't," he murmurs, still not looking at her.
Before Donna can ask any more questions, a nurse walks in. "Mr. Specter, I need to take you back upstairs." She states. Harvey looks up and recognizes her from earlier that night. That fact makes him quite sure he won't be able to get out of getting back to his own room, but he still has to try. "I want to stay here," he tells her, "you can monitor me in here just as well as in that other room. I'm not leaving Donna." He sets his jaw, ready for conflict, when the nurse nods. "I agree," she smiles at his surprised expression, "but the doctor wants to get you back upstairs. I suggest we go there, talk to him and then take you back here," she details her plan, "with your bed, because both of you need to get some proper rest and comfort tonight." She adds with a wink.
Harvey realizes that any form of protest is going to be futile and that she actually laid out a pretty good deal for him. He nods at her before looking back at Donna, who also looks at him. "I'll be right back," he promises her while he slowly and carefully untangles himself from her. He looks at her and hesitates, reluctant to leave her alone even for a short time. She just nods, seemingly tired. He leans in and kisses her softly, lingering close for a second, "I love you," he whispers.
Not even fifteen minutes later, Harvey is back in Donna's room. This time, however, he is wheeled in sitting in a hospital bed, looking slightly agitated by that. Donna sleepily smiles at him. She dozed off a little while he was gone, but when the door opened she woke again. She watches as the nurse from before makes sure Harvey is all set up, his bed a few feet from Donna's. When the nurse leaves – after giving Harvey a stern look that obviously punctuates something they discussed before – Donna looks at Harvey, the ghost of a smile on her tired face, "you look like a toddler who is about to throw a tantrum." She states, looking at him.
Harvey huffs annoyed, too tired and frustrated to be relieved by the fact that Donna is joking. She looks at him, the smile fading into a concerned look, "hey… Harvey, what's going on?" He looks at her, his eyebrows raised. She cocks her head to the left, silently repeating her question. He sighs, "I'm not allowed to get out of bed. Or move the bed," he gestures annoyedly at the distance between them. Too much distance to even grab her hand, "I just want to hold you." He adds, softly.
"Harvey?" Donna's eyes find his, "move that bed." It takes a moment before Harvey moves. He is a little stunned by her words. He expected her to agree with the nurse, not tell him to directly defy the orders he got. Then he gets out of his bed and pushes it so it is against Donna's. He gets back in and rests on his side, propped up on his elbow. He reaches his other hand out and takes a hold of Donna's hand. It's not exactly holding her, but it's better than the distance.
Donna softly squeezes Harvey's hand. He is close enough that she can feel his presence even with her eyes shut. She is close to drifting back to sleep, but there is one thing she wants to know so she forces her eyes open, "the panic attack…" She looks at Harvey, too exhausted to form a full question, but he understands. He scoots a little closer to the edge of the bed, closer to her, "I got here, after work. And you were gone," he starts, his voice low, "I just knew something was wrong. I stopped a nurse and she told me you were taken for emergency surgery," he swallows, his chest feeling tighter at just the memory, "and then I passed out." He doesn't describe the full experience, all the terrifying symptoms that made him feel like he was dying. He doesn't want to burden her with that.
"How do you feel now?" Donna tentatively asks. She feels the tension radiating off of her husband. She gives his hand a squeeze, hating that she is so weak she can't do anything more. He looks at her and shrugs, a sheepish grin on his face. "I'm exhausted and a little hazy," he admits, more honest than she expected him to, "but I'll be fine in the morning." They silently look at each other for a while, Donna's eyelids drooping and Harvey feeling his body getting heavy. Their fingers lace through each other, a small gesture that says more than words ever could at this moment. They give in to the exhaustion and slowly drift to sleep, close together.