Gordon

Harvey has been locked in his office, surrounded by an overwhelming amount of paperwork, for so many hours that Donna has lost count. And that's okay; he is grieving his father, and she knows that he was the most important person to him. But even so, she decides to enter and pull him out of that vicious cycle in which he has isolated himself.

"Harvey..." she murmurs after opening the door.

"You can go home, Donna," he spits out without looking at her.

"But I won't," she sits across from him and can see Harvey's jaw tensing uncomfortably. "You won't spend the whole night locked up in here."

"Why not?" he looks at her for the first time, a sharp pain evident in his gaze.

"Because it's not right for you to keep running away from your feelings, Harvey," she tells him gently, trying to emotionally connect with him. "You just lost your dad, and it's okay to feel the shitty emotions you're experiencing right now." Harvey shakes his head stubbornly, his eyes almost brimming with tears, and his expression resembling that of a wounded animal. "Please," she urges him a little.

"I'm alone now, Donna," he says in a small voice that she barely hears.

"No, Harvey," she responds, concealing as best she can the lump of anguish that has formed in her throat. "I am here with you," she says warmly, reaching out to gently touch his elbow as it rests on the desk. "How about a drink?"

He nods, lowering his gaze and holding onto that small physical contact with her. "I don't want to talk or do any of that shit."

"Okay," she agrees. "We'll put on some music and have a few drinks in silence, in honor of Gordon," she concludes and stands up, heading towards the beverage cart.

"Thanks," he sobs when she's no longer looking at him, and she smiles sadly at herself.