Harvey doesn't sleep that night. How could he, in an empty bed in the apartment his wife was abducted from. He got the locks changed, he isn't afraid. That's not the problem. The problem is that every time his eyes fall closed, his mind conjures up new horrible images. All of them based around the picture and the video he received. Some just extensions of Donna bound, but some going further. His brain turns out to be great at creating images that wouldn't be out of place in a horror movie. Blood, bruises, assault. After jolting awake for the umpteenth time, Harvey gives up.

The firm is quiet on Sunday. Mike and Rachel come in early, only to find Harvey already there, continuing where they left off last night. An empty cup of coffee is next to him, but Mike is certain that the nervous energy the man is radiating isn't because of caffeine. "Did you sleep? Like, at all?" Harvey looks horrible; bags under his eyes, his skin pale, a stubble on his jaw and his shirt misbuttoned. He looks up for a second, shrugs a little and then casts his eyes back on the papers.

The whole Sunday passes in a haze. After Harvey's clear refusal to talk, Mike and Rachel get to work too. They pour through files all day, and they are making progress, but not fast enough for Harvey. To make his mood even worse, Arthur doesn't have any news all day. They don't hear anything from Donna's abductors, and Harvey can't really decide whether he is relieved by not having to see additional footage of his wife or if he's even more worried by the silence.

After the sun sets and they eat a few slices of pizza and Harvey goes on his billionth coffee run that day, Mike closes the file he was reading and looks at his companions. Rachel is looking pale and exhausted, and he knows for a fact that she barely slept either. Occasionally, she rubs her hand over her forehead, a sign of headache. She won't stop, she cares too much about Donna to stop because of a headache. She's stubborn like that, just like Harvey is. Honestly, he doesn't want to stop either, but he knows that trying to get some sleep will make them be able to work better in the long run. He hopes it won't come to a long run, but if it does someone needs to take care of Rachel and Harvey, and he knows that's his job.

"I need to run an errand," Mike tells Harvey and Rachel, who barely look up. When he gets back, half an hour later, they are still in the same position and they are both still looking worse for wear. "Okay, listen up," he declares, waiting until both pairs of brown eyes focus on him, "neither of you slept last night, and that's messing with your heads. I know you think you need to pull an all-nighter for Donna, but you can do so much more if you get back here tomorrow, with clear heads." Both mouths open for protest, but he quickly silences them, "no, wait. I know you're gonna say you won't sleep anyway, but that's why I got you this," he holds up a strip of pills.

An hour later, Harvey is back in the apartment, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. It's a little past midnight, he hasn't slept in two nights and Mike offered him a solution to that problem by getting a strip of sleeping pills. But Harvey isn't sure about taking one. It doesn't feel right to sleep while Donna isn't safe yet. It feels like a betrayal to her to close his eyes and get comfortable in their warm bed while she is held somewhere in a basement.

In the end, Harvey takes the pill, deciding that he his best chance of getting Donna home is getting his head clear. And for that, he needs a little sleep. He falls into a deep, dreamless half-coma that is only broken by his piercing alarm in the morning. His head is foggy and for a moment he fears his decision to take the pill might compromise his brain for longer than he would like. But after a shower and a coffee – and a bagel on the way to the firm – he is able to think straight again. And as much as he hates to do it, he has to admit that Mike was right.

The sliver of optimism that came with Harvey's clear mind fades quickly when they get back to pouring through files. "This is not getting us anywhere!" He exclaims frustratedly, halfway through the morning. He throws his file down on the table and pushes up, pacing a few anxious circles through the office. The panic that he has mostly been managing to push down for the last few days rises quickly and he tugs at his tie – even though he knows that won't help.

"Harvey," Rachels voice pierces through the fog that is starting to cloud his head, "you got a message. From that same number as before." She gestures to his phone, fear making her voice slightly higher pitched than usual. When he looks at her, the realization dawns on him that she's scared too. He beats himself up for not noticing sooner. He thought he got over being a selfish asshole that only cared about what he was feeling. But Donna disappearing has shaken up his whole world and he hasn't thought about anyone or anything else.

Harvey lowers himself next to Rachel, reassuringly – and a little awkwardly – brushing his hand over her shoulder. But it's the gesture that counts and they both know it. Just like they both know gestures and feelings are absolutely inferior to the message Harvey just received. He unlocks his phone with trembling hands, Mike standing behind them to look over his shoulder as well. It's a hyperlink, which Harvey taps immediately. It takes them to a video. A black screen with large, white numbers in the middle, slowly counting down. 56 minutes, 38 seconds. Below, in smaller print, four words; then we go live.

After informing Arthur, the detective urges them to get to the station, hoping the means they posses are enough to track down the location the video is sent from. 34 minutes, 26 seconds is what the screen reads when Harvey shows Arthur. After a short discussion – Harvey didn't agree – Arthur takes the phone to his team, forcing the trio of lawyers to stay behind. Having lost sight of the screen makes Harvey even more anxious than he already was. It wasn't like he could do anything about it, but at least by looking at it he felt a little in control. Now he doesn't even know what's happening.

The thirty-four minutes pass agonizingly slow. Harvey fears what he might see when the countdown is finished, but at the same time he can't wait for it, because he thinks now knowing might be worse. Soon after taking his phone, Arthur brings it back, telling him they copied the hyperlink and are trying to figure out the IP-address that is broadcasting the video. There's nothing they can do but hope and pray that it will amount to something. So the four of them sit in silence, eyes fixated on the screen, the seconds ticking away slowly.

0 minutes, 0 seconds. For a short moment, the screen freezes. Then the countdown disappears, the same basement as two days earlier filling the screen. Donna is still bound to the chair, looking lifeless. Harvey's heart pounds in his ears, his lungs contracting. Slowly, Donna lifts her head, and he releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. She looks pretty much the same as she did Saturday. Still in that pink dress, and looking relatively unharmed. Although now she is paler than before, with dark circles under her eyes. Her pupils are dilated again, but not as much. She seems a little more aware as she looks past the camera, supposedly at someone who is standing there.

"Time to shine, darling." A voice sounds. Donna blinks a few times before focusing her gaze on the camera. It takes effort, Harvey notices. She's still on something. Nevertheless, she lifts her chin and squares her shoulders, a defiant look appearing on her face, "Harvey," her voice croaks, "don't let them win," she firms her jaw, "don't drop it."

Harvey can barely believe what he's hearing. And he's not the only one. From behind the camera, a man appears, striding towards Donna. He towers over her, "that's not what we talked about," he growls. Her eyes flick back and forth between the camera and him. She stays quiet. "Want to try again?" The man asks, his voice dangerously low. Donna swallows, throwing another look to the camera. Harvey sees the corners of her mouth curl up slightly, and he recognizes it as an attempt to reassure him. "No," she then answers, "I said what I wanted to say."

An instant after the words leave Donna's mouth, the man's right fist meets the left side of her jaw with such force that her chair topples over. The right side of her head hits the floor with a sickening thud and she's out cold. The man calmly walks back towards the camera, his face covered by a mask. Without saying anything else, he turns it off and the screen goes black.

"I-I…" Harvey stutters. He's furious and terrified at the same time. His blood is boiling and his head is spinning. Rachel has less trouble finding her words, "we are dropping the case." She decides, tears shining in her eyes but her voice surprisingly steady, "this is enough. Donna is being put through enough. Who knows what they'll do next. We're not risking her life any longer."

"No," Arthur calmly replies, "there's two reasons not to do that." He stops for a moment, making sure all three of them are listening, "first, they just showed us a video, presumably live. That is an opportunity for to catch them in a mistake. I need to give my guys a little time to find something." He pauses, waiting to see if that sinks in before he continues, "secondly, Donna is their leverage. They wanted to use her to appeal to you, which she clearly refused. That indicated she's doing alright and-" "No," Mike disagrees, "that just means she doesn't want us to worry. You don't know her, but that's who she is. Her life can be falling apart and all she'll do is care for other people."

Arthur nods, "alright. But still, she is their leverage. They won't kill her, they need her." Harvey scoffs, "they can do a lot of things before they… before…" He can't say the words. Rachel swallows, "I'm with Harvey. We're saying it's enough."

Before anyone can say anything else, the door swings open, "can I speak to you?" He asks, looking at Arthur, who immediately stands and follows him. A short silence follows, Mike looking back and forth between Rachel and Harvey. He can't unsee the video, Donna's head crashing against the concrete. For a second, he curses his photographic memory, but judging by the looks on Rachel and Harvey's faces, he would see it on repeat even without that. "I agree," he softly says after a while, "just for the record. I agree with the two of you. We need to get her back."

The door opens again, and Arthur re-enters the room, "we'll continue this conversation in a few hours. Right now, we've got a lead I need to focus on." Harvey pushes up, "I'm coming with you," he declares. Arthur just shakes his head, "no. You're not. You're a lawyer, not a detective." Despair flashes over Harvey's face, and Arthur softens a little, "sit tight, okay? I'll keep you updated."

Never before has time passed this slow. At first, Mike, Rachel and Harvey hope that a lead means that it will be over soon. They should know that it won't be fixed within the hour, that working with the law takes time. But still, they can't help but look at the clock every two minutes. Minutes that turn into an hour, then two, three and eventually seven. It is getting dark outside, nearly 10PM.

Just when Harvey is thinking about calling Arthur and demanding to know what's going on, his phone starts ringing. Arthur. He stares at it, hesitating for a second. Then he answers, putting it on speaker so Mike and Rachel can listen in. "We found her," his voice sounds out, sirens in the background, "she's getting checked now, but she seems alright, given the circumstances."