Ooooh, wow! Thank you so much for all the reviews! I'm sorry I made most of you think Harvey was dead, that's not the case. I really hope you'll enjoy this next part, so maybe leave a review? x

Chapter 3: Waiting for you

She freezes on the spot, her mouth agape as nearly every muscle in her body freezes for a second. Except for her hand, letting go of his hand in complete shock of what she had just felt. Her eyes blink twice, her heart rate increases again and her hand instantly moves back to cover his.

"Harvey?" she mumbles unsure if she really felt him move or if it was just her imagination, her deepest wishes projecting it. Making her feel things that aren't there. "Harvey," she mumbles again, the desperation in her voice clearly noticeable as she squeezes his hand. Her fingers pressing in his cold skin, but there's no response. Nothing.

"Harvey," she mumbles, a tear running down her face again as she waits a couple of more minutes. But it's time, time to let go. Time to leave, she tells herself as she lifts her hand again, but it will never be time to move on. To forget. She knows she'll never be ready for that.

With a sigh and a heavy heart she finally lifts her fingers from his hand, letting them trace the edge of the bed, until she lets go all together. Her feet carrying her over that threshold again, taking the same firm steps she takes day after day. Never looking back, because looking back and seeing him like that again would be last drop that could make the bucket flow over. That last push that would made her crumble, fall apart. So she did what was so used to all other years; she didn't look back.

She wraps her scarf around her neck, dabbing some tears that were forming in her eyes with the fabric before her feet have carried her to the man that was waiting for her outside. Just like every other day, the man that had always brought them, but mostly him where ever he needed to go. That's also why he did this now, drive her to the one place she really needed to go. Even if it was the same boring drive day after day, he did.

"Thank you, Ray," she whispered as he opened the door for her. "Donna," he nodded, swallowing in the questions that were burning on his tongue. He really wanted to know, but he ever asked. Not wanting to burden her any further, maybe even slightly picking up on the trade she was so skilled at. He already knew nothing had changed.

These drives, these visits come and go. Day after day it's the same, the same drive. The same hospital, the same room, the same hour. And no progress, it's all the same, unwillingly becoming a new ritual, but it's still with him and her. It's still them.

.

.

She holds his hand again, her thumb running over his fingers. Opening her mouth for the umpteenth time that day, but the words fail to leave her mouth. She doesn't know what to say anymore, so she just looks at him. Listens to the way he's breathing and she stares at those two moles above his left eyebrow. Her fingers now softly caressing them as she mumbles that she loves him.

"Mrs. Specter," the young nurse greets the redhead as she enters the hospital room. Donna looks up from her husband towards the young blonde girl, she's seen her before. She knows it's the nurse that's been looking after him, but she can't remember the girls name.

Maybe she never really bothered to learn the girls name, maybe she forgot on purpose. She doesn't know anymore. She's been having trouble remembering what's going on ever since the accident. She just nods at the younger woman, who's now checking some charts at the footboard of the hospital bed.

Donna's eyes fixate on the name tag the girl's wearing, it reads Alicia and the soft smile that was formed on her lips slowly disappears as she remembers how he once used to go out with a girl with that name. It was back in the D.A.'s office, but she still knows. She's always known.

"Will he wake up?" the redhead asks then, the words barely leaving her lips. It's a sentence she hasn't been able to pronounce for weeks, yet it was the only question she used to ask in the beginning. It's not like she's getting used to the situation, because she isn't. How can one get used to the fact that after waiting twelve years for the man you love, him to be taken away within just months after you could officially call yourself his.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Specter," the nurse answers. "Unfortunately there's no indication in time I could give you," she tells the redhead as she places the charts back. "But it's been two months," Donna recalls out loud, the conversation with Doctor Morsh of that night two months ago on repeat in her mind.

She lets her fingers fall around the cup of tea, blowing it before she takes a sip and she smiles. Smiles as she looks around their apartment. Still not completely believing that after all those years they had everything, they finally had everything.

She lets herself lean back against the armrest of the couch, pulling her legs besides her as her fingers swipe through some pictures on her phone. Mostly of them, of him and she stares at their wedding picture for a moment. A photo that was already taken four months ago. Something she's barely unable to grasp, how the time flies when one's happy.

She takes another sip of her tea, her lips curling up even further as she reads the text he had send her just a couple of hours ago again. Just before he boarded the firms private plane.

I already miss you. – H

She reads the text again, only one conclusion coming to mind. She already misses him too and she closes her eyes, still feeling his lips on hers. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. Pressing one last kiss against her temple as he said goodbye.

Her memory being roughly interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing, her eyes popping open as she sees his face appear on the screen. A wave of nausea hits her immediately, because it's too soon. Too soon for him to call, too soon for him to have arrived on his destination. Her index finger pressing the answer button as the lump in her throat grows.

"Harvey?" she mumbles, but there's nothing. Just an extremely loud noise, followed by a bang. The phone dropping from her hand as she closes her eyes, images of her imagination flashing in front of her eyes.

Every minute after that is a blur. She can't remember who told her; if it was Jessica calling her or the police. If they showed up at her place, or if she went to the hospital by herself. She just remembers the looks of the faces she knew so well, but seemed so foreign in that moment.

They won't let her see him. The words plane crash, badly injured and surgery on repeat in her mind. She feels her knees give in, her legs being unable to carry her own weight, but her body never reaches the ground. Maybe it were Rachel's arms or Mike's, maybe it were both of them. Maybe it was Jessica or Marcus, she can't remember. The tears streaming down her face blurring her view, his face the only thing she still saw. His name the only word that leaves her lips, over and over again. Starting as a scream, slowly turning in a whisper until his name dies on her lips all together.

Minute after minute pass, before they turn into hours. And maybe even days, she's not sure. She's lost all sense of time, all she knows is every second she isn't with him is one too much. And unlike that afternoon, when time seemed to fly it's like time freezes when she watches a man approach her. A man in a white coat, his head hanging low, a look on his face she's seen one to many times.

The look of defeat, the look of despair. She didn't think it was possible, but her heart crumbles yet again as the man indeed stops in front of her. Her silent prayers wishing the doctor would just walk past her, clearly being unanswered as she hears the words she doesn't want to hear. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Specter."

"Your husband is in a coma. The plane crash your husband was in left him severely injured. He has lost a lot of blood and he's still in a critical stage, but given the circumstances a coma might be a good thing," dr. Lursh tries to explain. But the words don't register, all she heard was coma.

"Will he wake up?," she blurts out, "will he wake up again?"

The doctor presses his lips together, the one question he can't answer. And he tries to calm her down as Marcus wraps his arms around his sister in law, holding her in place. "Mrs. Specter, please calm down," the doctor mumbles again.

She's fighting the tears, but she can't hold them anymore. "Will he wake up?" she asks again, "Please?"

"It's too soon to say," he continues, "We'll have to wait."

"Will he wake up?" she asks again. She's in shock and it's the only question that leaves her lips, like a broken record she repeats the same question. Again and again. "Will he wake up?

Doctor Morsh looks at Marcus, the younger man nodding as he's fighting his own tears. "She needs… you need to give it time," he repeats, "at least two months."

"It's been two months," she mumbles again. To herself, to him. To let him know its time, it's time to wake up. To let him know that's she has been waiting. No, that they have been waiting, she corrects herself as her left hand runs over her growing stomach.

"We're waiting for you Harvey," she mumbles.