A/N: Thanks for still being here... I hope you enjoy this chapter! ;)
After being informed of the ICU room to which Harvey has been moved, Donna remains steadfast beside the door, unwilling to budge even if she's told she can't enter yet.
Over two hours drag by before the doctor finally emerges from the room after checking her husband's vital signs. Donna immediately bombards him with questions, desperate for an update.
"The next few hours are critical, but he's currently progressing well," the doctor tries to reassure Donna, who remains a bundle of nerves.
"Can I go in, please?" Donna pleads even if she knows she isn't allowed yet. She believes that, in these two hours, she has exerted enough of her persuasive charm to sway the doctor.
"He's still asleep, but he'll wake up soon. He might be a bit disoriented when he wakes; that's normal. Alright?"
"Does that mean I can go in?" she asks, her smile tinged with charm.
"Just for a moment, this is the intensive care unit," the doctor reminds her. Donna's relief is palpable as she nods. "Alright, go in before I change my mind. It'll be good for him to see a familiar face when he wakes up."
"Thank you so much, doctor," the redhead says, allowing another smile to grace her lips. Before he can change his mind, she turns the doorknob of the room. Upon opening the door, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, needing a moment to prepare herself for what her eyes would see seconds later: Harvey on the bed, completely pale, various machines connected to his body, strange screens and sounds, and a ventilator. She swallows hard, takes another deep breath before closing the door, and approaches with steps she wishes were firmer than they are. Fear, anguish, and doubt eat away at her, causing every part of her body or soul to tremble. "Hey..." she murmurs, standing at the end of the bed, her hands clasped in front of her, hesitant to get any closer. Not only had he suffered a heart attack after their argument and months of marriage crisis, but he had also collapsed a second time when she touched him in the waiting room. Did he want her to be there? She couldn't be sure, and that doubt weighs too much on her chest. "God, I don't know if I should be here or not, Harvey," she murmurs, tears choking her voice. "I'm sorry, you're here because of me," she adds, and this time she can't control the tears as they start to flow, once again breaking down in sobs. "I'm so sorry, Harvey," she whispers, wiping her cheeks and unable to tear her eyes away from that strange image of her husband. "I hope at least you're not in pain right now with all the meds," her genuine wish expressed through tightly gripping their wedding rings. Following the surgery, she received Harvey's belongings, feeling the need to put on his wedding ring, even if it was a bit too big, and she had to be careful not to lose it. She needs to feel connected to him in some way. "I'm sorry, Harvey," she echoes, and as she speaks, she notices a slight movement of his fingers. "Can you hear me?" she whispers, a mix of excitement and confusion. Of course, Harvey doesn't respond, but his fingers move again, her heart swelling with hope and a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. With hesitant steps, she inches closer, her heart racing and somewhat fearful, reaching out to take his free hand, the one not connected to tubes and medical devices. She places her fingers in the hollow of his hand and feels him lightly squeeze, making her exhale with immense relief. "I'm here," she whispers, gently cradling his hand affectionately as her free fingertips delicately trace the contours of his face, moving up to his skull, then gently scratching behind his ear and massaging him, hoping that this time, this familiar care, will bring him some comfort as well. "It's been tough, the doctors said, but you're already improving." She continues speaking, and it's not that she's unaccustomed to having a monologue with Harvey, because no matter how many years pass, he still struggles to express himself. However, not being sure if he's listening makes it quite strange. "Take your time to wake up. The doctor said I can only stay for a little while, but you know I'm Donna; I can make sure they don't kick me out of here." She tries to inject a playful tone, lifting their joined hands to give his knuckles a tender, meaningful kiss. Then she carefully places his hand back on the bed next to hers and falls silent, offering him comfort with her hands for as long as necessary.
Donna stays there, watching him the whole time, as connected to him as she can be, trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings—an impossible task in a situation like this, but she's stubborn and wants to try. So many feelings, all together, in such a short time, are drowning her.
She knows that the most important thing now is that he has come out of the surgery alive. She knows it, and she's grateful for it. Harvey is here. Harvey is alive. They have another chance. However, there's a whirlwind of emotions inside her that she doesn't know how to react to; she feels trapped in a tangle she can't unravel.
Guilt, like a heavy stone, weighs on her chest, threatening to suffocate her. She replays the events leading up to Harvey's collapse in her mind, each moment etched with regret. How could she have let this happen? How the hell is Harvey going to forgive her for not taking care of him? For not picking up the phone when he needed her the most? The fear of what could have been if Harvey hadn't called for help after she ended the calls gnaws at her, a chilling reminder of the fragility of life.
She can't help but search for signs that might have alerted her to Harvey's impending collapse. She doesn't even know what those signs are, but she's asked the doctor, and she feels stupid for not having noticed that what Harvey had that morning was much more than a hangover. Surely, all the alcohol he had ingested had ended up exacerbating a bomb that had been brewing inside him for a long time. She feels terrible because, damn it, she's usually so adept at managing her emotions, even helping others do the same... And yet, that time, she couldn't. The anger, the pain, the resentment—it was overpowering. And that mistake, that mistake could have cost her husband his life.
She doesn't even know how she's going to look him in the eyes when he wakes up.
But amidst the turmoil, there's also gratitude. Gratitude for the chance to make things right, for Harvey's resilience, for the opportunity to be by his side. She squeezes his hand tightly as if trying to anchor herself in the chaos of her emotions.
She knows she needs to confront her demons and that they have a long, hard path in front of them; still, she remains her faith in himand in them. So for now, she allows herself to simply be there, to hold his hand and silently promise to do better.
But she needs assurance that he is as willing as she is at this moment. She doesn't need to talk to him right now; she knows it's not possible, and she doesn't want to do it under these circumstances. She just needs to see herself reflected in his gaze to find there, in him, the certainty that they will both fight for this.
And then, as if in response to her silent plea, she feels it—a faint squeeze in her hand, a gentle reminder that Harvey is still here, still fighting. It's a small gesture, but it fills her with hope, reigniting a flicker of determination within her. She may not have all the answersand may not know how to navigate the complexities of their relationship, but she knows one thing for certain—she'll be there for him every step of the way.
"Harvey..." she murmurs, gently stroking his hand with her thumb. "I'm here," she adds. Harvey furrows his brow for a moment, his breath growing slightly agitated, which alarms Donna. "Easy, easy," she says calmly. "You're in the hospital," she explains. "You've undergone surgery, but you're improving, and it's important to remain calm." He's not fully conscious yet, but a strange sensation grips his body, unsettling him and prompting him to fidget slightly as he struggles to open his eyes. "Harvey, shh..." she whispers, leaning over to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead while she strokes his head. "Take it easy, please." She struggles to maintain her composure, moving her hand to his forehead, where her touch seems to ease his tension. "Can you see me?" she asks, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Harvey closes his eyes even tighter for a moment before gradually beginning to open them, greeted by a blinding brightness. He blinks several times, trying to focus on the figure before him, while Donna watches him serenely, holding onto him with unwavering support and giving him the time he needs to reorient himself to reality. As his eyes finally begin to focus, the first thing he sees is his wife, and a smile spreads across his face like that of a child who has just stepped into a toy store.
"Hey... You look beautiful," he rasps, sounding overly excited, and she can't help but laugh through her tears.
"How are you feeling?" she murmurs, kissing his forehead again.
"Really weird," he says, trying to move in the midst of the adrenaline, but of course, as soon as he tries, everything hurts.
"You need to stay calm now, alright?"
"But you're so pretty, and you know I can't stay calm when you look so pretty, which is all the time." Donna can't help but break down even more. Everything is too much. Not only has Harvey woken up, but he's looking at her like that again. God, she knows he's confused now, and they have a pink elephant in the room, but recognizing Harvey again and recognizing herself in his eyes can't help but spark a glimmer of hope. He's glad she's here, and that's all she needs to know right now. "Don't cry," he says gently, raising his hand very slowly to clumsily wipe away her tears. She smiles at him and takes his hand, gently pressing her cheek against his palm. Donna clutches the warmth of his palm against the skin of her face. They stay silent for a few seconds, gazing at each other, and Donna would stay in that moment forever if she could, but she also knows she has to call a doctor, and duty and wishes battle in her mind for a moment.
"I have to call the doctor," she whispers and sweetly kisses his palm.
"No, don't leave," he mumbles, a bit calmer this time but full of anguish.
"I won't leave, Harvey," she says with a warm smile and leans over slightly to press the call button for the nurse.
"Tell them I need more drugs; this hurts," he complains.
"I'm sorry for that, Harvey," she says with guilt this time and intertwines her fingers with his.
"Stay, you make me forget that it hurts when I look at you."
"Anesthesia has made you romantic, huh?" She teases him a bit, making him laugh, which immediately makes him grimace in pain. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," she says, and at that moment, a nurse enters. "I'll wait outside," Donna says, getting up.
"Don't leave," he repeats, trying to reach her with his weak arm. "Please. I need you."
"I won't leave this time, Harvey," she says firmly, giving him a kiss on the head and leaving him with the nurse, who is quickly joined by the surgeon.
Once outside again, she feels like she's about to break down again, but Rachel and Mike are there to support her once more.
"He woke up; he's confused and in pain, but I think he's okay. I don't know," Donna says too quickly, leaning against the wall in front of Rachel, who holds her hands.
"The doctor will tell you more when he comes out, okay?" Rachel says, and Donna nods.
"Tell us what you need, and we'll go to your place and get it," Mike offers, trying to be helpful in some way.
Donna furrows her brow for a moment. "I don't know," she exhales and shakes her head. "No, I don't know, Mike."
Rachel squeezes her friend's hand. "We'll pack a bag with whatever we think you might need, okay? If you think of anything, just text me." Rachel immediately reassures her. "We'll listen to what the doctor says, and then we'll go." Donna nods and can't say anything; she simply hugs Rachel, who hugs her back. She is so grateful that they are with her right now. She couldn't have done it alone.
A few minutes later, the doctor emerges.
"The patient is recovering favorably; the next few hours are crucial, but for the moment, he's progressing as favorably as we can hope for. His blood pressure is stable, and his oxygen levels are normal. We've given him another sedative, and he'll sleep for a few hours." Donna exhales with relief and nods. "He'll probably be in the UCI until tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, and then we'll move him to a regular room for a few more days."
"And I can't go in there, can I?" Donna lets her words slide, trying to sound innocent, and her friends have to press their lips together to keep from laughing. They know exactly what she is doing. But it doesn't work this time.
"When visiting hours start, we'll let you in," the doctor instructs and leaves.
Donna sinks into a chair, feeling somewhat frustrated. "I don't want him to be alone in there," she huffs.
"He already knows you're here, Donna," Rachel tries to reassure her.
"Rachel," she says, her lower lip trembling and tears threatening to appear again. "He asked me not to leave twice. Do you know why he did that? Because this morning, I left him alone and ignored him while he was having a heart attack." She sobs as the sensation of guilt swells in her chest again. "I might win the award for worst wife in the whole world." She says ironically, dropping her torso forward, her elbows on her knees.
Rachel looks at Mike and signals him to leave with a subtle glance, and he nods, albeit a bit resigned, and exits.
"Donna..." Rachel sits beside her and rubs her back. "You had just a huge fight; you've been through terrible months. Of course, at some point, one of you was going to explode and storm off. What you did is completely logical; it's human; it's natural to get angry, Donna. How the hell could you have guessed he was having a heart attack and that he wasn't calling you to keep arguing?"
"I should have guessed," she says with immense frustration.
"No, Donna. No." Rachel responds with determination. "You're not capable of guessing everything; you simply aren't, and that's what makes you human." She repeats it again. She will repeat it to you as many times as necessary.
"Rachel..." She exhales and lets herself fall back against the chair's backrest this time. "I really appreciate what you're doing, that you're here with me, that you sent Mike away." Rachel chuckles. "But I know it's my fault. Leaving the firm shattered everything. And I'm sure that if we hadn't distanced ourselves, I might have seen at least some warning signs... I don't know; at least take care of him."
"Donna—"
"No, Rach. No." She interrupts. "I don't have the strength to argue right now."
"Okay." Rachel stands up and offers her hand. "Come with me, then."
"I won't move from here."
"Look, the bathrooms are just ten steps away. You can go, freshen up a bit, wash your face, we'll buy something from the vending machine, at least some water, and then you can come back. I mean, Harvey won't move from here." Donna weakly laughs and takes her friend's hand, who helps her to her feet.
"Thank you for being here," Donna mumbles, hugging her.
Rachel smiles and kisses her cheek. "Always, Donna."
40 minutes later, Donna is alone in the waiting room, as close as possible to Harvey. Rachel and Mike have gone to fetch things from her house, and as she finds herself alone again, she feels like the walls are slowly closing in on her, enclosing her until she's crushed.
In addition to all the guilt she's feeling for everything that's happened, she now has to add the guilt she feels for not knowing how long she can bear without talking, or at least trying, about what has happened. She feels suffocated, with no way out of that labyrinth. There had been years of discomfort between them, with words left unsaid and topics they couldn't discuss. She knows that they have been through shitty times, more than she would like. She also knows that they had made it; all those times, they had made it out, even when words couldn't be said out loud and all they could do was look at each other, using that silent language they had invented. They have experience putting their problems inside a box and locking it under seven keys for an indefinite period of time... And this time they have to do it again; their marital crisis must be put aside while he recovers. She just hopes they have the strength to do it again.
A doctor entering Harvey's room pulls her out of her thoughts, and she stands by the door, waiting for him to come out and trying to evade all the terrifying thoughts that come to her mind. She hopes she won't feel her heart in her throat every time someone enters that room, because damn, she won't be able to handle it.
"Is everything okay?" Donna asks, completely alarmed, as the door to Harvey's room opens.
"His blood pressure went up a bit, but nothing to worry about," the doctor reassures her immediately, and Donna breathes a sigh of relief. "Look, visiting hours are about to start; you can go in if you want."
"Until what time can I be there?" She asks, a little calmer knowing that she will be able to be with him. Being anywhere right now sucks, but she'd rather be holding his hand.
"Until six pm, that's two hours."
"Okay," Donna is relieved to know that she will reach the theater, a thought that just struck her. She hadn't even thought of that until now. The doctor nods slightly and leaves. Donna enters the room and finds Harvey dozing, so she tries to be stealthy as she takes her place in the same chair where she had been sitting just a while ago.
"You didn't leave," Harvey mumbles with a small smirk that's meant to be a smile, not opening his eyes and moving his fingers slightly, prompting her to hold his hand.
Donna places her hand on top of his and leans in a bit toward him. "No, Harvey. I'll be here for as long as they let me. I promise," she says, caressing his hand with her thumb. "Mike and Rachel went home to get some things."
"They're here?"
"Yes, they're here. I mean, they got a bit worried when the best lawyer in the clinic didn't show up on time for work."
"Yeah, well, I had some complications," he says, trying to inject a bit of levity into the situation. Donna chuckles softly and squeezes his hand. "Although I'm not entirely sure, I only remember up to the ambulance."
"They stabilized you in the ambulance, but then you collapsed again in the emergency room. They took you straight to surgery. You had a myocardial infarction. They did an emergency bypass and also placed a stent in two minor arteries. Now you're on medication, with several anticoagulants; they mentioned beta-blockers as well as something else I can't remember right now, sorry," she explains, a bit puzzled. That was a lot of information, and she was just trying to breathe, knowing he survived the surgery. "They said you'll be in the UCI for a few days, then they'll move you to a regular room before discharging you. Also, they said the recovery will be lengthy, but that you'll be okay." She spills it all out calmly, but she says it all. She knows very well that leaving any information open to interpretation in this situation will only make him anxious, and if there's something he needs right now, it's to be calm.
Harvey opens his eyes to find her in front of him, and she offers him a shy smile. "I wish my parents had had this opportunity," he says, his voice breaking, sounding like a helpless child. "It's been damn terrifying, Donna."
Donna swallows her own tears and leans in to give him a timid kiss on the lips. "I'm sorry for not being there, Harvey," she sobs, unable to hold herself together.
Harvey slowly raises the hand that's full of wires and, with the IV, gently grasps her jaw and strokes her cheek with his thumb. "You're here now," he murmurs. "Can I have another kiss?" he asks with a timid smile, and that makes her chuckle softly as she nods and leans in to kiss him again. "Yeah, that one was better."
Donna chuckles and shakes her head. "You need to rest, Harvey."
"What do you think I'm doing in this bed?"
She sits back in the chair and rests her elbow on the mattress, dropping her head into her hand as she looks at him. "I don't think you can do anything other than lie in this bed right now," she teases him a bit, making him smile. "But seriously, you're talking too much. Rest now."
"Well, but talk to me about something. I'm in pain, and I need to distract myself; your voice relaxes me."
She smiles at him and gently runs her fingers over his eyelids, coaxing him to close his brown eyes. It's been so many weeks since they last talked that she actually has stories to tell him. She leans in and shares something that happened in the dressing room a few days ago and a completely ridiculous phone conversation she had with Louis. She's glad to know that it works to relax him and even lulls him to sleep.
A few minutes later, Donna is startled by the sound of someone knocking on the door.
"Hey," Mike whispers. "How is he?"
"He just fell asleep; his blood pressure went up a bit, but he's okay."
"Good, I'm glad to hear that." Mike offers a smile. "Here are some things for you. Rachel put some clothes in case you want to change before going to the theater, and some other stuff."
"Thank you so much, Mike, really."
"You don't have to thank me, Donna. You know that."
"Yes, I do." She replies and hugs him. God, she needs hugs today.
"Call if you need anything, okay?"
Harvey doesn't wake up again before visiting hours end, so when Donna says goodbye to him, he doesn't really register it. And she thinks it's better this way because having to leave him to go to the theater right now sounded too cruel.
She arrives at the theater a complete mess. She knows very well that her job is to leave all her problems backstage and do the best she can on stage, but today it seems almost like an impossible mission to accomplish. She takes a shower in the bathroom in the dressing room area, where she cries even more than she had cried throughout that hellish day, and she just hopes it passes as quickly as possible. She needs to get back to the hospital. She needs to be close to him.
Upon waking up, Harvey is quite disappointed not to find Donna by his side, and it's only when he sees a post-it note on his bedside table that he feels a bit reassured.
"Sorry, Harvey, but they kicked me out of here at 6 pm. I hope you sleep well and feel better tomorrow. See you then."
The nurses come and go from his room much faster than he can bear right now, and when they bring him a light and unappetizing dinner, he feels like he's going to throw up even before eating it.
He's not just afraid of what will happen after having a heart attack. He's well aware that, given his history, the odds of him dying were quite high. And having survived gives him a vertigo that scares him, perhaps more than the heart attack itself or the possibility of dying.
He's not very spiritual or anything like that; he's well aware that if he survived, it was by pure chance, by falling into the hands of excellent professionals who acted with the skill and knowledge to save him... But he also feels—besides feeling stupid for thinking it—as if life is giving him a chance to fix the mess his life is right now.
And he's not sure he can do it.