A/N: Hey! Thank you so much for coming back here and for your kind reviews, I hope you enjoy this new chapter :)

Donna returns to the hospital as soon as she can, even though it's late, knowing she'll spend the night crushed on that uncomfortable metal chair. She dozes off most of the time, startling each time someone enters Harvey's room—which happens way too often—but she tries not to get frustrated; she knows he's having a worse time in there.

Meanwhile, every time Harvey manages to fall asleep, someone entering the room wakes him up, and he knows he can't complain, but it's becoming unbearable. He feels exhausted; everything in his body feels strange, and he just needs to close his eyes and not open them for several hours.

They're not too far from each other. They're in the hospital, and the situation is terrible. However, in reality, it's not much different from their nights over the past few months: struggling to fall asleep because they no longer recognize their reality or the person sleeping next to them. Everything had taken a 180-degree turn in the last few hours, but both of them know they are still fighting not to drown.

At 7 in the morning, Rachel and Mike reappear at the hospital, with coffee and a muffin for the redhead, who looks even worse than yesterday.

"Something happened to Harvey?" Mike asks, alarmed by her appearance.

"No, he's still stable," she replies in a hoarse voice. "I know, I look terrible. Sleeping in this chair isn't very comfortable."

"Here," Rachel offers breakfast. "It won't fix it, but it might help."

Donna smiles, taking the coffee and muffin. Her favorites. "You guys really know me."

"Many years of using it to bribe you," Mike winks at her, making her laugh, while Rachel sits down next to her friend.

"And it's the first time you've given it to me as a selfless gesture."

"I'll let it slide, just because you're not in a good place. Alright?"

Donna rolls her eyes and takes a sip of coffee. The hot drink brings a necessary feeling of comfort to her body. "And I'll let it slide because I need coffee not to pass out right here."

"Well... I might actually want to ask you something," Mike says, pretending to be distracted.

"I knew it!" Donna laughs.

"Can I go in to see him? Just 5 minutes; the rest of the time is all yours."

"You didn't need to bribe me to ask. But visiting hours haven't started yet."

"I know, we came to see you too."

Donna smiles and briefly rests her head on Rachel's shoulder. "Thanks, guys, really."

Rachel rubs her back. "Do you need help with anything? Have you notified everyone who needed to know?"

"Yeah, I have," she clears her throat and takes another sip of coffee. "But if you could help me with passing on the updates in New York, that would be really helpful. I'm still feeling overwhelmed, and I'm spending most of my time messaging Marcus and Jessica."

"Great, that means we're throwing ourselves in front of Louis again," Mike complains, sitting down next to Donna.

Rachel shoots her husband a death glare, but Donna laughs and responds, "Well, he certainly is the most intense."

"He is, but don't worry, I can handle this for you, Donna," Rachel tells her friend, leaving Mike out of this.

"Will I get kicked out again?" Mike asks, puffing like a child.

Donna shakes her head and now leans against his shoulder. "No, I need both of you here."

• • • •

When visiting hours begin, Mike enters first and takes a moment to absorb the sight of the toughest man he knows looking like this. It's definitely not the same Harvey he had seen in the clinic just 48 hours ago. And he feels overwhelmed for a moment.

"I'm not going to bite you if you come a bit closer," Harvey teases. "I mean, it's not like I can move much," he adds, and Mike can't help but laugh. That lightens the atmosphere between them.

"How are you feeling?" Mike asks, standing by his side.

"At my best, can't you see?" Harvey says with clear irony in his voice.

"I'm asking seriously," Mike responds, rolling his eyes, and Harvey scoffs.

"Better than yesterday, at least a bit," Harvey admits, though he still feels utterly miserable. "Is Donna here?"

"Yes, she's back after the performance and still here. She'll be in in a few minutes. Sorry if I'm not the one you wanted to see." Mike teases him back this time, but Harvey lets that joke slide, getting serious.

"Tell her to go home and sleep, please."

"You know convincing your wife isn't an easy task."

"Mike, please," Harvey groans. "Just have her not sleep here tonight. Take care of her, please."

"We are, Harvey. She won't be alone. I promise."

"Can you make her sleep at home tonight?"

"I will, Harvey," Mike assures him. "And I'm glad you're doing better. Rachel and I are taking care of your wife and your work; you don't have to worry about that. Alright?"

"It's a bit hard not to worry when all I do is stare at the ceiling all the time, plus—" Harvey pauses and closes his eyes tightly. It's not something he wants to discuss right now. Anyway, Mike understands. He's still so damn scared. He really felt death breathing on his nape. He can't even put it into words. It's the most overwhelming feeling he's ever felt.

"Focus on your recovery right now," Mike says, quickly pulling him out of his thoughts. "You'll be alright, you'll see."

"I hope so," Harvey says, wishing he could move a little to feel less numb. "But seriously, tell me, how is Donna doing?" He asks somewhat agitated; talking is starting to feel like a really hard task.

"Harvey… You had a heart attack, you can imagine how she's feeling right now." Mike asks, avoiding going into details.

"Mike, please. Tell me." Harvey begs him.

"She feels guilty, Harvey," Mike confesses, letting out a sigh. "We got here when you were in surgery, and... I know you two are in a shitty place right now, and I haven't seen either of you in good shape for months. But... she was really down. And now she wants to be here all the time."

Harvey swallows hard and tries to hold back tears as he nods. "Tell her to come in? Please."

"Of course, but be nice with her. Okay?"

"Mike!" he complains.

"Alright, alright. I'll tell her to come in."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"For everything," Harvey clarifies. "It's good to know you guys are with Donna."

Mike smiles and nods as he exits the room.

"Well... He's asked for you to come in," Mike shrugs. "I guess my face isn't as pretty as yours."

Donna chuckles lightly, rises from her seat, and steps into her husband's room. "Good morning," Donna greets him softly, approaching with slow steps. "How are you feeling today?" She inquires, settling down at the edge of the bed. Now that the anesthesia has worn off and he is fully aware of it, she doesn't know how close she can get. "You seem a bit better, less drained."

Harvey extends his hand to clasp hers, their fingers intertwining, a silent sign that it's okay for her to be this close. In truth, what he truly yearns for at this moment is a comforting embrace, one of those where he feels as though, in her arms, all the broken pieces of himself might be put together again... Yet, for now, he must content himself with holding her hand. "Hey..." Harvey murmurs, drawing in a deep breath. "Slightly better from yesterday, but I still feel terrible," he admits. "The wound is still quite sore. My chest feels constricted, although breathing is easier. Dinner last night was so much worse than your shitty Thai." He says, and she can't avoid a laugh. "And I almost didn't sleep; I'm sure it was the same for you," he remarks, gently squeezing her hand as she momentarily avoids his gaze. "And I'm terribly exhausted."

"They're still administering your pain medication, right? I haven't received today's medical update yet."

"Yes, they mentioned upping the dosage." His voice remains hoarse, each word requiring extra effort. "Hey... since you're able to, consider going home to rest tonight."

"Harvey—" she protests, her reluctance evident. "I don't want to leave you here."

"Donna—" he exhales heavily. "Why force yourself to spend the night in a chair?" he asks, guessing her response. Or rather, the response she won't dare to give him. A somewhat uncomfortable silence builds between them as she bites the inside of her lip to hold back both tears and her answer. "Donna—" he murmurs, gently tracing his thumb over her hand. "This isn't your fault." She tightly shuts her eyes, tears escaping despite her efforts to contain them, a wave of despair crashing over her. She hadn't anticipated this conversation occurring so soon. "I failed to provide what you needed, and I got us to this point, but this heart attack isn't your fault in any way. And you shouldn't have to sacrifice spending the night in a chair."

"Yes, it is my fault, Harvey." She sobs, using the back of her hand to wipe away tears. "It is."

"No, it's not, Donna." Despite the tumultuous impasse in their marriage, he can't bear to witness her anguish. "Just... could you please go home to sleep tonight?"

"Harvey—" she sobs again, her lips quivering.

"I'm simply asking this of you," Harvey says tenderly. "All the medical professionals have emphasized that progress will be gradual... That's all I can manage right now, and I'm sorry for that. For my recovery and for us. I apologize if it's not enough." There's a palpable undercurrent of guilt in his voice. "I'm just asking you to go home and rest tonight. Please."

She nods and leans in a bit closer to him. "Alright, I'll sleep at home tonight," she concedes, aiming to reassure him because, truthfully, she doesn't want to give in on this. "And you don't have to apologize. This is our reality now, and we'll navigate it the best we can, alright?" Her voice carries a soothing calmness. "But really, they'll reprimand me if they catch you talking so much. You're supposed to be resting constantly in the ICU, which is why I can't be here all the time either."

"Alright... I'll heed your advice this time."

She offers him a warm smile before lapsing into silence for a few moments. "We'll do the best we can, okay?" She repeats, her attempt at conviction evident, but when he attempts to reply in affirmation, he's overcome with a cough. "I warned you about talking too much," she scolds him, grabbing the water glass with a straw from the nearby table. "Have a sip," she says, offering him the glass and helping him take a sip.

Donna spends the rest of the visiting hours there, helping him with breakfast, and even having to coax him into eating a bit more than he wants. When she leaves the room, she starts researching on her phone about post-surgery care for a patient like her husband, making lists of everything she needs to buy and has ready for the day Harvey comes home. From a pill organizer to help manage his medication, a blood pressure monitor, gauze, and wound disinfection supplies to looking for physiotherapy services to aid in his physical recovery, nurses to help with his hygiene while he can barely move his arms and even a specialized cardiac rehabilitation trainer. It feels overwhelming at times, but it's less overwhelming than thinking about what's happening, she's Donna, always needing to be a step ahead, and this allows her to get ahead of things.

During the afternoon visiting hours, Harvey mostly sleeps, and during the brief periods of wakefulness, Donna arranges a short video call with Marcus, who, unable to travel, yearns to see his brother's face.

As promised, she sleeps at home that night, and unlike a few nights before, she needs to sleep in her bed, hugging Harvey's pillow to feel his scent. Today's performance had been even worse than the night before—clearly, not sleeping and all the stress were not helping at all—and between the exhaustion she felt and the sadness that engulfed her, all she could do was cry herself to sleep.

The days pass slowly by until Harvey is transferred from the ICU to a regular hospital room. It's a significant milestone, indicating favorable progress. Donna feels a wave of relief knowing she can now stay with him for as long as she wants, and she brings along some of his belongings.

Entering Harvey's new hospital room, Donna wears a serene smile, genuinely relieved to see him free from the ventilator, with only an IV line for medication and heart monitoring.

"Well, well, someone seems to have enjoyed escaping the ICU," she quips cheerfully upon spotting him sitting on the bed.

"Just waiting for that machine to stop beeping all night so I can actually get some sleep," he grumbles.

"You never do see the glass half full, do you?" She retorts, rolling her eyes, eliciting a chuckle from him.

"Donna," he complains, furrowing his brow. Laughing proves to be painful.

"I'm sorry," she curses herself internally. "I'll keep a straight face, I promise," she assures him, placing a small bag she brought on the edge of the bed. "I've brought you some stuff," she announces, beginning to unpack the bag. "I've got some toiletries for you—a toothbrush, toothpaste, a razor... Trust me, you're in need of a tidy-up, and when you catch sight of yourself in a mirror, you'll agree," she teases, guessing the potential fuss he might make about his messy beard, and he stifles a laugh. "And some other essentials; I'll leave them here," she adds, placing the bag on the bedside table. "I've also brought you this book; it's the one you had on the nightstand... But, I'm not sure if it's the one you were reading," she confesses with a hint of guilt, aware that any reference to their life before the heart attack strains their relationship.

"It's perfect; I've only just started it," he reassures her immediately. "It'll help pass the time. Thank you."

"Alright," she exhales, relieved, and smiles. "And I've downloaded your favorite music albums onto the iPod. I know you prefer vinyl, but... it's what you have for now. Here you go, headphones included, along with chargers for everything."

"Okay, I can sacrifice sound quality for the time being," he says with a smile. "Thank you."

"They've also authorized me to give you your phone, but if you even think about checking work emails, I'm confiscating it myself. Understand?" He nods. "You probably have a backlog of messages; take your time replying. Especially to Louis, who's so persistent that I've redirected his communication to Rachel."

Harvey can't help but laugh this time. "I'm surprised he's not here."

"To give you a hug like the one he gave you after he had a heart attack?" she quips playfully, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"God, no. I'm not interested in having another heart attack; thank you very much." He chuckles, and she joins in, leaving everything on the bedside table. "At least not anytime soon," he adds, attempting to inject humor, but Donna's expression turns far too serious for comfort.

"Don't make jokes about that, please," she murmurs, a sense of dread creeping through her body, reminiscent of the moment she received the devastating news.

Harvey watches as her expression shifts abruptly, immediately regretting his attempt at humor. "You're right, I'm sorry," he murmurs softly, feeling foolish for saying that. She nods in response, choosing to remain silent as she turns away, busying herself with organizing items on the table. "Hey, it was just a joke," he attempts to lighten the atmosphere, sensing the heaviness in the air.

"I know," she replies, closing her eyes tightly, her hands resting on the table. "But..." she inhales deeply, then exhales sharply before meeting his gaze again, her expression still solemn. "Please, try not to return here, under these circumstances, or really, under any circumstances," she pleads, her voice trembling slightly. "I need you to be well, okay?"

He smiles, a sense of relief washing over him. He doesn't voice it, but he's grateful to know that she still needs him to be healthy. "I promise I'll do my best," he assures her, offering a tentative smile, which she returns.

Just as Donna is about to respond further, a nurse enters with breakfast for Harvey and conducts a quick check of his vital signs before departing, leaving them alone once more.

"Still not hungry?" Donna asks, opening the plastic container of breakfast.

"Not particularly, but they said it's normal," he replies, looking at the food with little enthusiasm. "Have you eaten something?"

"Yes, Harvey," she responds, a hint of frustration creeping into her tone. "You're the one in the hospital bed right now, not me. Let me take care of you, not the other way around."

He sighs in frustration, attempting to shift himself more comfortably against the pillows. "It's been a while since I've taken care of you, and—" he trails off, trying not to give too much weight to his words.

Donna exhales heavily, feeling a twinge of nervousness. "We won't discuss that right now."

"Yes, we will," he asserts firmly, sensing that the weight of their current situation is too heavy to ignore any longer. "I'm feeling somewhat better, and we've been avoiding it for too long. I left the UCI; I'm better."

"Harvey..." she whispers, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. "It's not the right time, and that's okay. We don't have to force it," she tries to reassure him, understanding that reopening that conversation could lead to further discord. She's still grappling with hurt and anger, and that's okay. She can set those feelings aside to care for him because she's his wife, and she loves him. That's her role for now. However, keeping her emotions in check becomes increasingly challenging with the impending conversation looming over them.

"Donna..." he begins, pausing to gather his thoughts. The unspoken words, long suppressed, struggle to find coherence as he prepares to verbalize them. "You didn't deserve what I did," he finally confesses.

"Harvey..." she sobs, frustrated with herself for showing vulnerability when she's supposed to be the pillar of strength right now. "I haven't been okay either. I've ruined what we had, and I've brought you to the brink of death," she says through tears, the weight of guilt still burning in her chest. She's overwhelmed by the magnitude of the damage she's inflicted on the person she loves most.

"Are you here because you think this is your fault or because you love me?" he asks, the words slipping out before he can process their impact. He instantly regrets them, realizing he may have just shattered whatever fragile peace they had. But he can't go back to that horrible feeling—the one that she still wants to leave him. And sure, a few moments ago, she told him she needed him well, but he still can't decipher why. The last thing he remembers is her dropping the idea that divorce should be an option for them, and the mere thought of that happening paralyzes him.

"Are you seriously asking me this?" She wants to sound strong, but only a thread of a voice comes out of her vocal cords while her trembling hands try to wipe her tears away. She knows she's messed up, she knows, and she blames herself every minute, but for Harvey to doubt her like this, at a moment like this, really feels like her heart is being shattered into pieces.

"I don't know, Donna," he snaps, his agitation rising.

"What is it that you don't know?" she shouts, her fury mounting. "Whether I love you now? Whether I've loved you every damn day of these 20 years? Is that what you don't know?" Her anger spills out uncontrollably. "Because that's the only constant in my life, Harvey! Loving you, loving you so much that it's impossible for me to leave you behind. Fucking impossible!" she continues, oblivious to everything around her. "And if you can't see that, if you can't see that everything I've ever done was putting you first because I love you, maybe it's time to force myself to leave you behind; even if it breaks me down the middle, maybe it's time for me to get off this damn ship," she concludes, her eyes filled with pain that mirrors another heart-wrenching blow to him. She knows what she's doing now is fucking wrong. She knows she should be the responsible one, the calm one. She knows she should be taking care of Harvey, but so many shitty feelings have built up inside her all this time that she can't stop anymore. She told him it wasn't the time to talk, damn it.

"Are you really ready to get off this ship?" he asks, feeling a familiar ache in his chest. "Is that it? Is this all you can fight for? Is this all?" Tears threaten to spill from his eyes as he avoids confessing his own fears.

"And are you ready to answer something, or are you just going to keep asking questions to avoid saying what you've wanted to say to me for months?" She fires back, her anger still palpable despite the raw love she feels for him.

"What do you want me to say, Donna? That you abandoned me? You already know that!"

"Can you, for a damn moment, stop repeating and put yourself in my place? Just once?"

"And can you do that? I've just had a heart attack, and look at how you're yelling at me!"

"I told you it wasn't the time," she grumbles, seething with frustration at her inability to control her emotions.

"So what I think is true," he says, his voice filled with pain that pierces Donna's heart even further. "You're here out of guilt or obligation, not because you want to be here."

"Can you stop assuming what the hell I think or feel? Because it's exhausting, Harvey!" Her voice rises, echoing off the walls of the sterile hospital room. But when she watches Harvey slump against the pillows, his face etched with exhaustion, and a relentless beeping sound fills the room her anger dissipates instantly, replaced by fear and desperation as she tries to rouse him, her voice now trembling and on the brink of breaking down once more.

The doctor rushes into the room, followed closely by a nurse, and Donna observes as they spring into action with a sense of urgency and efficiency that she feels she'll never possess. After administering something through the IV line in Harvey's arm, the incessant beeping begins to subside, and her husband's tense body gradually relaxes. It's only then that Donna realizes she has been holding her breath, and she exhales sharply as she sees him stabilize.

"Harvey, you need to stay calm," the doctor advises, his voice calm but firm as he checks the heart monitor's sine wave.

Donna wipes away her tears, takes a steadying breath, and addresses the doctor. "I'll make sure he does," she asserts, her gaze unwavering as she looks at Harvey with determination. They won't broach this subject again, not while he's in recovery.

"Being discharged from the UCI doesn't mean you're fully recovered," the doctor explains to Harvey. "You're making progress, but it's a gradual process. You're at the beginning of a long road, and staying calm is crucial for your recovery. Understand?"

Harvey nods, feeling overwhelmed and disoriented. His head throbs with pain, and agitation courses through him. His vision blurs momentarily, but he's acutely aware of Donna's internal struggle, and it only serves to intensify his own inner chaos.

As the doctor and nurse exit the room, Donna approaches Harvey once more.

"Donna—" he begins, but a sob interrupts him. "I'm sorry, I—"

"You heard what the doctor said, right?" He nods weakly. "Well, now you'll listen to me," she declares, her tone resolute. "We're in an incredibly difficult situation, that's undeniable. I'm still damn angry and hurt, and so are you. Our marriage is crumbling, Harvey, and we've both played a part in bringing it to this point." Tears brim in her eyes as she clasps his hand tightly. "We've weathered storms before, and this time will be no different. Despite what's happening between us right now, I'm here because I'm your wife, because I love you, Harvey. And for that reason, we'll face this together, with all the strength we can muster. Right now, the priority is your recovery. We can address everything else later. And this isn't negotiable. I'm simply telling you what we're going to do." Despite the gravity of their situation, he manages a timid chuckle, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her hand. "Are you really laughing?" she retorts with a snort, though a hint of amusement dances in her eyes.

"You'll never stop being the bossy one in this relationship, huh?"

"No, never. And you know it well," she answers, laughing. "We'll make it, alright?" She tells him seriously again. "I'm not thinking of leaving you; I haven't even thought about it before. What I told you, I told you because I'm too damn furious about everything that happened, but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to fight for this," she adds. "But I need you not to doubt that I love you." He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling immensely guilty. "Harvey..." she sobs, desperate for an answer. "You know I love you, don't you?" Her voice sounds fearful and on the verge of breaking again.

He looks at her again, his eyes glistening. "I know, and I love you too," he responds. He wishes he could say more, but that medication they just gave him makes him feel terribly tired, and any word or movement feels like a titanic effort. But he knows that making the effort to give her that answer has been worth it when he sees the relieved smile that appears on his wife's face.

"Alright..." She murmurs and leans over him. "That's what matters right now," she says, caressing his forehead. "We've been through too much, and what has always saved us is what we feel for each other. And we'll make it through again," she murmurs and gently kisses his lips. "Now rest, I'll stay here with you. Okay?"

He simply nods, his eyes nearly closed, and she moves to sit at the end of the bed again, not letting go of his hand. Harvey doesn't want to let go. He needs to feel her close.

Silence falls between them, only interrupted by the beeping of the machines, and as Donna puts all her efforts into taking deep breaths to hold back her tears, Harvey interrupts her.

"Donna..." he mutters.

"What?" She murmurs.

"Thank you," he tells her, gently squeezing her hand. "As always, I don't deserve what you're doing for me."

She shakes her head and intertwines her fingers with his. "You're the person I chose to share my life with, and you've chosen me for the same. So yes, you deserve it. You deserve the best of me. You always have," she tells him, watching as he struggles to open his eyes again. "The fact that most of the time you act like an asshole doesn't mean you don't deserve me being here with you." He shyly chuckles. "And now stop talking and sleep for a bit if you don't want me to get angry again."

He chuckles. "I don't think I can handle another scolding today."

She laughs. "Then sleep; go ahead. I'll stay here."

"Thank you," he whispers.

She smiles and leans in to caress his chin with her fingers, then gently scratches behind his ear. "I love you, Harvey. Never doubt that," she murmurs.

"And I love you, Donna. Even though most of the time I can't show it," he responds, and within a second, he's snoring.

"Alright," she exhales and adjusts his pillow a little. "Rest, you need it."

As she watches him sleep with tenderness, another mixture of emotions overwhelms her: relief for having cleared things up, concern for the road that still lies ahead, and a profound love that seems to fill every space within her.