Hiya, I've never done his kind of story making before so we'll see how it goes. I'm Scottish and live in Scotland. I've never been to New York so if any of the locations I've used are incorrect, it's because they are incorrect. The medical technobabble is just made up shit so I'm sorry if it's not completely accurate.

The first story is for Danièle.

Prompt: Maybe serious illness, and then of course some worried and caring mike and donna.

Hope you enjoy it... ?

Harvey strolled into the bullpen to Mike's desk. "Mike, have you finished the briefs?"

Mike turned to face Harvey with an exasperated look. He had obviously just walked in, his bike helmet under one arm and hair in disarray, a coffee in that same hand and files in the other with his bag still slung over one shoulder. Mike's eyes were half closed with exhaustion and his posture suggested the same. With his shoulders shrugged forwards, Mike straightened up, almost shouting, "Harvey, I'm not in the mood. I stayed up all night trying to get them done, the only reason that they're not done is because I went home for a fucking shower. I haven't slept in days so get off my back," Mike returned and turned his back to Harvey.

"Excuse me, what did you just say?" Harvey tightened his eyes. His eyes a piercing glare. Harvey lowered his tone of voice as if warning.

"You fucking heard me." He yelled at Harvey.

Harvey put his hands on the side of Mike's cubicle very calmly and growled, "Mike, go home, now."

Mike threw the files onto his desk with such force that it sent an empty glass flying; it smashed into an array of shards. The same glass had been sitting on his desk for weeks, the liquid that was within stained the inside of the glass an odd shade of yellow.

"Mike, I won't tell you again," this time Harvey barely controlled his anger. Mike swivelled around and evaded the bullpen as fast as possible.

Only noticing now that the associates were standing, gawping, "there is no reason to be standing there,if you haven't got enough work, I'm sure Louis has some." Quickly, the associates scuttled away for cover.

Harvey shook his head and bent down to pick the files up off of the floor. He mumbled, "you never do anything half way, do you?"

Still fuming from their exchange, Harvey swiped his hand down, forgetting that the glass littered the floor. He managed to slice the top of his hand. Hissing, Harvey dropped the papers and grabbed his left hand. He noticed a large glass shard had sliced his hand open from his small finger's knuckle to his thumb in a diagonal motion. Inspecting it, he picked out the large shard. His hand began to ooze with blood, which then began to flow rapidly down his wrist. Harvey clutched it with his right hand to stem the flow and held it away from his expensive suit.

"Can someone please call the janitor or cleaners?" Harvey yelled towards the associates and inwardly smirked as virtually all the associates reached for their phones or exited the bullpen, away from his line of fire.

He made his way down the hall, in the direction of his office. Harvey decided to clean his hand up in the bathroom. He put his hand under the tap, washing away the blood. Harvey didn't look too closely as he left the bathroom almost as quickly as he had entered.

"Harvey, what happened?" Donna looked at him with a suspicious and disappointed glint in her eye.

"Donna, not now. I don't want to hear it, bet you already know".

"Harvey, what did you do to Mike? There's always a reason. Go after him and find out what's wrong".

Harvey gave her a look and said, "I know what's wrong, he's obviously not cut out to be a lawyer, why the fuck would I want a quitter?"

"Harvey, stop being so obtuse, you and I both know there is more to this than Mike'll let us believe".

Harvey pushed open his door and moved towards his record collection, he slipped something on and sat down at his desk. Harvey leaned back into the leather of his seat and tilted his head backwards. Closing his eyes, he slowly calmed down to the soft rhythm of jazz and began his work for the day.

Harvey managed to get some work done, but the standard of his work deteriorated throughout the day as he felt a headache brewing. He couldn't help but feel colder even though it was August or that his breathing was a bit more laboured as if he'd been jogging. Not realising that it was dark out, everyone had left the office to go home. He wasn't surprised Donna didn't tell him she was leaving, after all, he didn't go after Mike like he probably should have. Harvey decided to organise his desk before leaving to go talk to Mike.

He stood up abruptly and put both palms on his desk. He leaned forwards, his vision swimming before his eyes; black dots swirling around his office. Harvey's arms and legs trembled with the strain of standing before he dropped back down in his chair.

Harvey reached for his collar and felt it was damp with sweat. He looked flushed and sickly. Harvey was confused, he couldn't remember the last time he was sick. Harvey decided that a glass of scotch could fix it. Harvey moved much more slowly and headed towards the scotch, poured himself a full glass and drank it all within twenty minutes.

"Mike, open the... the door." Harvey slurred as he repeatedly slammed his hand upon the door. Mike, rubbed his eyes groggily, stalked towards the door and swung it open.

"Harvey, what time do you..." Harvey slumped forwards colliding into Mike. Harvey's usually perfectly, slicked back hair and perfectly, pressed suit were completely disheveled and soaked. To say Harvey looked bad would be an understatement. Mike heaved Harvey up and wobbled to the couch and dumped Harvey unceremoniously onto it. "Harvey, care to explain why you smell like a bloody distillery?"

"Ummm, no?" Harvey turned his eyes up to Mike, confused and disoriented by what was going on and Mike couldn't help but notice how young and sick he looked.

Mike lifted his arms up in defeat and wondered towards his bedroom saying, "I'm calling Donna."

"Mmmn, nah, Donna... won't be happy," Harvey mumbled.

Mike picked up his phone and made to call Donna at three in the morning when he cringed inwardly, knowing that he couldn't face her; he decided to leave it to tomorrow morning. He strolled back into the living room with a blanket and pillow to notice that Harvey had passed out on his couch. He groaned and lifted Harvey's head up to slip the pillow beneath and rearranged Harvey's limbs to make him look slightly more comfortable. Mike then threw the blanket onto Harvey, switched the light off and climbed back into bed, dreading the next wake up call at six o'clock.

Mike woke up to the blaring call of his alarm. One arm went to cover his eyes, the other swiped out to switch the alarm off. He knocked his watch and wallet off his bedside table and eventually hit his alarm. Groaning, Mike got up and padded into his living room and into the kitchen. As he made himself cereal, he couldn't help but hear raspy breathing coming from near his couch. Mike walked in and saw Harvey on the floor face down.

"Harvey!" Mike rushed to Harvey's side and tilted him to his side to get a better look at his face. Harvey's face was cold to the touch, ghostly pale and clammy with sweat. "Harvey, wake up!"

Mike gently started tapping Harvey's face and received no response. Panicking, Mike tried to get Harvey out of his blazer and into a more comfortable position. He looked down to Harvey's hand and saw a jagged, deep scratch stretching across the top of his left hand. Turning Harvey's hand over, he saw that Harvey's blood vessels were a dark red-brown and they stretched up his wrist. Mike then peeled Harvey's white cuff up and saw that the dark lines stretched up to his elbow.

Realising that Harvey was in trouble, he quickly dialled 911. "Uhh, I need an ambulance at my apartment now. Oh shit..." Mike looked down to see that the raspy breaths were becoming louder and much more strained as he was on the phone. The breathing then stopped.

Mike chucked his phone beside him and locked his fingers together. Kneeling next to Harvey, he placed his palms above Harvey's chest and started chest compressions. Mike felt the ribs beneath his hands crack but continued, mumbling, "one... two... three... Come on, Harvey, don't do this to me." Mike quickly shook his head and tilted Harvey's chin up. Holding Harvey's nose and chin, Mike quickly said, "come on Harvey, I really don't want to do this". Getting no response, Mike breathed in and puffed three large breaths into Harvey's mouth before restarting compressions.

Suddenly, two paramedics charged into the room and urgently pushed Mike out of the way. They placed an oxygen mask on Harvey's face and tore Harvey's shirt open, continuing chest compressions. Mike cringed at the state of Harvey's shirt but was more disturbed when two patches were placed on Harvey's chest. A paramedic said, "charging to 200, clear..." They raised their hands up and Harvey's body shuddered unnaturally off of the ground and then resettled. The two paramedics looked at the machine waiting
for sinus rhythm for what seemed like forever. "Damn, it didn't work, charging to 300, clear..." Their hands raised again and Harvey's body lurched upwards. "We have rhythm. Let's get him on to the stretcher and out of here."

Mike followed them out the door and down the steps. They all ran towards the ambulance and thrust the doors open and loaded Harvey onto it. Mike began to step up on to the ambulance when one of the paramedics said, "stop, you can't come with us, we need all the space we can get to help your friend. We're taking him to Presbyterian hospital, you can meet us there."

Mike opened his mouth to argue but the doors closed before he could say anything. The ambulance lights and siren blared as the ambulance turned away from his apartment and down the road.

Mike stood there staring at the ambulance before it turned out of sight. He looked down to his hands and saw them shaking uncontrollably. Mike clutched his hands together and turned back to his apartment. He ran up the steps into his apartment and clutched his wallet, keys and phone. He quickly dialled Ray's number. "Ray, hi, it's Mike, Harvey's in trouble, he just left my apartment in an ambulance. Can you pick Donna up and take her to Presbyterian hospital. Oh, shit. Harvey died for a minute, his heart stopped fucking beating."

"Mike! Mike..., calm down, I'll go and get Donna, you just make sure Harvey's okay by the time Donna gets there, or Donna will kill him herself."

Mike hung up and called for a cab. He climbed in and requested Presbyterian hospital. "If you get me there in under fifteen minutes, I'll pay you double." The driver just raised his eyebrows and put his foot down. Mike just stared out the window at all the buildings, begging, hoping that Harvey was okay.

Mike tumbled through the double doors at the same time as Donna leapt out of Ray's car. "Mike, what the fuck happened? Please, don't tell me you got into a fight and beat the living shit out of each other. Wait, you couldn't beat Harvey in a fight even if you tried... Mike, what happened?"

"He came to my door at 3 o'clock this morning drunk and practically collapsed on my couch. I went back to bed because I wasn't in the mood to deal with him. I woke up this morning and he couldn't breathe. He stopped breathing for a minute, he died." Donna then grabbed Mike and pulled him into a tight hug. Mike turned his head into Donna's neck and began crying. Donna rubbed circles into his back for a minute then held Mike away from her.

"Let's find out if he's okay." With that she swivelled on her heel and gracefully walked into the hospital with Mike in tow. "Where's Harvey Specter?" She asked the nurse at the desk.

The nurse typed in the name and pointed down the left corridor. "I can only disclose that information to family."

"I'm Harvey's fiancé." Donna said and gave the nurse a look, daring her to question her story.

"He's in ICU, in bay 3."

"Thank you". Donna just started marching down the corridor and stood outside bay 3, looking through the glass. The sight took her breath away. She saw tubes poking into Harvey from every angle and machines surrounding him. Donna raised a hand to her mouth and stifled a gasp. Harvey looked so weak and small in the bed. She'd never seen him so weak. His eyes had sunken into his skull and his face was pale with a sheen of sweat.

Mike stood behind Donna and turned to the side as the doctor made to open the glass door. "You must be Harvey's friends. I'm Doctor McCall. I'll cut to the chase, we've done a few tests and I can't assure you that he isn't out of the woods, yet. He's in critical condition and he has a hell of a fight ahead of him. He came in with flu-like symptoms, low body temperature and laboured breathing. We had to restart his heart three times. We've conducted a CBC (complete blood count) and differential. It gives readings on red blood cells, white blood cells, platelets and haemoglobin. We took a swab of his hand and he has a bacteria known as VRE. The results of the swab and CBC are all congruent with sepsis."

Mike and Donna looked at each other with confused faces. "When on earth did Harvey cut his hand?" Donna asked. Mike thought quite intensely and realised it must have been the smashed glass on his table.

"Oh god, when Harvey and I argued yesterday, I knocked my dirty glass onto the floor. I hadn't had time to clean it; and it smashed on the ground. Harvey must have tried to pick it up and cut his hand."

The doctor nodded. "Yes, that'll more than do it. I'm sorry but you can't yet see him as any other infection like the common cold will more than likely kill him."

The doctor rested his hand on Mike's shoulder and said, "if Harvey's fever breaks in the next 24 hours, he should pull through."

Donna and Mike thanked the doctor and moved back down the hall to the waiting area. Donna mumbled, "I better tell Jessica."

Mike sat down and buried his face in his hands. Harvey was fighting for his life all because of him. Why didn't he just control his anger or find time to clean his glass. Mike felt so guilty and let a couple of tears crawl down his face.

Donna came back into the room and put her arm around Mike's shoulders. "He'll be okay, this is Harvey, when has he ever lost?" They both settled into their uncomfortable seats and sat there in silence watching the clock as it edged closer to the 24 hour mark.

18 hours later

Donna had already gone home to clean up and head to the office to cancel all of Harvey's appointments. Mike hadn't slept at all and his head was hammering. It was already the afternoon of the next day and he nursed a coffee in his hands and wished that the doctor would give him some news.

As if his prayers had been answered, Doctor McCall walked in towards Mike. "Harvey's fever finally broke two hours ago and he's making steady progress. Your friend is definitely a fighter. I can take you to see him if you like?"

Mike nodded his head and followed the doctor to Harvey's room. Harvey's face had more colour and his skin was no longer shiny with sweat. Harvey's left hand was covered in bandages. Mike moved to Harvey's right hand side and grabbed Harvey's hand. Mike sat there for a while before talking.

"Harvey, I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, it wasn't your fault. You left me the same amount of work that you usually do, it's just Louis decided to leave a heap of work on my already full desk for the whole of last week. I'm trying to stay afloat, you know? I can't handle being buried for too long. I've no idea what his issue is. Harvey, after everything you've given me, I can't believe I got you hurt. You don't deserve this, just wake up soon, please. If you don't, Donna will kill you." Mike smirked and squeezed Harvey's hand a little tighter.

Mike eventually fell asleep with his head tilting back in his chair.

Harvey blinked slowly as light flooded his eyes. The beeping and quiet talking coming from beyond the room were quite disconcerting. He opened his eyes and saw Mike fast asleep in the chair to the right, his hand intertwined in Mike's.

Harvey opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He tried again more forcefully, "Mike..." Harvey was surprised by how hoarse his voice sounded. "Mike..."

Mike jerked awake and looked wide-eyed around the room. His eyes locked onto Harvey and he immediately moved forwards. "Harvey. Are you okay? Do you want me to get you anything? Do you hurt anywhere? Shall I get the..."

"Mike, calm down. What happened?"

"Wait, you can't remember what happened?"

Harvey squinted his eyes and concentrated for a few seconds. "Oh, I remember, you shouted at me, I cut my hand on the glass, and from then on its all a little bit foggy."

Mike relayed what had happened to Harvey and after he'd finished talking he stared at Harvey trying to gauge his reaction.

"Harvey, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have shouted at you and I'm sorry you got sepsis from the glass. I won't ever do anything like this again and I really am thankful for everything you've done for me."

"Mike, you're right, you won't shout at me like that again, and next time clean up your glass. But I don't blame you for what happened. Tell you what, I'm going to fucking kill Louis when I get back."

Mike leaned back in to his chair and smirked at the thought of Harvey chasing Louis down the hallways of Pearson Hardman.