It had been a week since his encounter with that asshole Elliot Stemple and Harvey Specter had honestly never felt so beat. Not even when he had to juggle his mom's secret, or during baseball boot camp, or even his long nights studying his ass off at Harvard Law. All he could do was sit on his couch and stare into space.
Everything was just... going to pure shit.
He understood that sometimes people's luck turned bad, but he couldn't comprehend why it was him now, why it seemed to stoop to a new level of bad, and why his wheel of fortune hadn't spun around yet after the whole Mike-prison debacle.
He was just so tired. With nothing to relieve his stress. Mike was gone, the entire firm was gone, and listening to his dad's records made him too emotional about that damn painting..
It didn't matter anymore, because he would never see it again. Fucking Elliot Stemple. He half-heartedly wished he had bashed the guy's head into the painting instead of handing it over.
Maybe he should've just pushed the damn guy out of the window...
"Hey, Harvey." The soft whisper broke him out of his cynical thoughts.
"Donna." He sighed, unable to repress his desire to really be alone. That sense was innate, it had always been his way of coping. Over the years, Donna had always tested the limits as to how much of his emotional wall he would put down. She had succeeded in him getting a soft spot for her, but he still mostly kept to himself. Tonight was a night he just didn't have to energy to fight. He admired her power stance, all dressed up in midnight blue with the perfect match for shoes. "What can I do for you? What're you still doing here? It's eleven."
"Um, I had some unfinished business."
He grimaced at the statement, feeling his irritation flare uncontrollably. "I don't really know if you've noticed, Donna, but we don't really have any business for you to finish. Don't you pride yourself in knowing everything?."
He regretted the last statement the moment the words left his mouth. He was one of few who could detect Donna's look of hurt, no matter how brief, and it had been there.
"Look, old man. I know things have been tough but that sure doesn't mean you can have the right to talk to me like that. We're a team. Partners don't lash out at each other when things are bad, they discuss, they communicate, and they rebuild."
"Donna, I'm sorr-"
"Save it. I know times have been hard. But like I said, we're still here and as long as we are, this firm's going back up whether you like it or not. So stop sulking like a 5 year old."
He sighed in resignation. He was deflated for maybe the seventh thousandth time that night. "You're right, I'm sorry. Thank you. But seriously, what are you doing here?"
"I need a new Marni bag."
The anger came back, this time resulting in him jumping up. "What! I just told you we don't have any business! What kind of money do you think I have lying around to get you a new bag?! What happened to the old one I gave you?!"
She seemed unfazed. "I lost it."
He was so appalled he didn't have any words. He just gaped at her, shaking his head.
"I don't know what to tell you Donna. How the fuck did you go lose a thousand-dollar bag like that?"
"I used it to beat up a guy..."
He was instantly concerned. "Excuse me? Are you trying to tell me you just got mugged? Oh my god, Donna. I'm so sorry. Did this just happen? Are you okay? Do you need me to take you home?" he inched closer towards her, legitimately concerned. If something ever happened to her, especially in this time right now... he would throw himself out the window. Perhaps after he got his emotional roller coaster of emotions sorted out.
"Would you let me finish? I'm fine, Harvey. A little shaken up, but fine. I just have one favor to ask."
"Sure, anything."
"Can I stay at yours tonight?"
The question left him dumbfounded. Of all the things he was expecting (Can I get a day off? Can we please order Thai right now? How about a new dress then?), this was never on his list of plausible possibilities. But the question had been asked, and it hung there in the air. His immediate response was to refuse. They didn't do stuff like that.
But it took Harvey Specter only a moment to realize there wasn't really a reason to say no anymore. Out of all the things he had lost, one of the few things he had left was Donna. It was the same her for her too. So he honestly couldn't see any wrongdoing in accepting, not after such a shitty week he was having. They were partners, after all. He needed cheering up and she was the only one who could fully understand his sense of humor.
"Sure, Donna." He looked at all the work he didn't get finished today, felt a tinge of guilt, and pushed it away. They could wait.
"Great. Ray's waiting downstairs." she commented, with a shy smile.
He just looked at her as he put on his coat and walked towards the door. He arched his eyebrow at her. "Seriously, woman, how do you do it?"
The ride home was surprisingly chatty. Harvey had lately just been in a brooding mood, and Ray knew better than to ask. But this crazily drunk lady had brushed herself completely on Harvey while they exited PSL and Donna couldn't stop giggling at his face of sheer horror and panic. She was currently going on about how he should be an actor with that kind of reaction.
"Seriously, I think you're better at me. If this "save the law firm" stint doesn't work out, maybe that'll be your back-up career."
"Ha-ha, Donna. Very funny." he said, begrudgingly. She was having way too much fun and he was not having it.
"Too soon?"
"For someone who almost got mugged, you seem to be in a pretty good mood," he commented.
"What can I say? You can't let the world get you down."
He didn't respond. He had been trying to have the same kind of attitude but it didn't seem to be working. She noticed, and she softened.
"Hey. You know things are going to be okay, right? I'm joking about it right now because I know in a certain amount of time, it's going to be the same old law office, prestigious and full of crap."
"But how do you know?" Harvey Specter had never felt so pathetic asking a question.
"I'm Donna. I know."
The words rang in his head. They had never sounded so good.
The ride up to his apartment was as much of an experience as it could be. He had done this a million times before, but never with Donna. He took the time to look at her, and wondered how she still had that spirit to believe and trust in something like him. He didn't get it. She deserved better.
A resounding "ding" hit his ears as he saw the doors peel open.
When he looked up, he was knocked out of his breath.
There, sitting right in the kitchen, perched at an angle where one of the lamps shone down the perfect soft beam,
his painting.
And most importantly, Donna, standing there with the biggest shit-eating grin he had ever seen on her in the past 12 years.
"Did you-"
"Yep."
"Stemple?"
"Taken care of."
"How? When? Where?" He followed her into his own apartment, completely livid, completely unsure if he was happy, angry, or touched. He really needed to get in touch with his feelings.
"Simple. I tracked him down, used my beauty as a source of power and fear to get him to talk. He balked, of course. But I had to make a little trade, first. Said his wife wanted a Marni bag. Whoever would marry a man as petty as him is beyond me."
"You weren't mugged?"
"Nope. C'mon, Harvey. I'm a New Yorker. You don't think I know how to avoid being robbed?"
"I-"
She grabbed the painting off the table and put it in his hands.
He had never felt so elated.
"Donna, I-"
"I know."
At that moment, he knew he could have just passed it off as another one of their discrete moments of ensure loyalty. He had her back, she had his. She was blessed with the knowledge that he could never voice his gratitude, so she had let him off the hook each time. But her, going all that way to recover this for him.. It was too much.
He put the painting down.
She smiled at him, sure the moment was over.
Instead, she found herself staring into the intensity that came from his eyes.
"No. It needs to be said." He didn't mess her sense of startlement, but it just fused him to keep going.
"This has been," he breathed, "the shittiest week of my life."
"Even when I left?" She couldn't help herself.
"Fine, second shittiest. In the past five years."
"Go on."
"And I-"
Harvey took a moment to realize the truth in his words, and he couldn't help the tears he felt in his eyes when he thought of how much shit he still had to fix. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Harvey, are you okay?"
He clenched his jaw.
"Donna, I'm.. I'm just so tired," unable to look up.
"Go to bed, then. This can wait. It's late."
"No, it can't. I can finish."
He had never had this feeling before. Was it possible that the great Harvey Reginald Specter, the voice of the people who had come to him wanting to sue, had finally found his own damn voice?
"This has been one of the worst weeks in my life," he started again. "With Mike going to prison, us getting sued, everybody leaving. But you," his voice cracked.
Donna was really concerned now. She had known it had been a stressful week, but hadn't been aware of the extent... This was a new territory altogether. She was too afraid to move, watching him instead as the man stood as defeated as she had ever seen him, right in front of her.
He finally built up enough courage to look at her. His gaze pierced her soul.
"You somehow you just always make it better. And at this point, I don't even know how to make it up to you"
"That's my job, Harvey," she responded.
"No, it's not. Your job is to answer my phone calls and make me sign papers. This," he signaled to the painting, "is out of your expertise."
She didn't know what to say.
"In all of the bad days, you have always been there. At my worst, you have been the silver lining." He wasn't sure if he was stating the fact or voicing his sudden realization. "And I'm...I'm just so grateful, Donna. What did I do to deserve you?"
In the first time in numerous years, Harvey Reginald Specter lost control and broke down. Like Jessica had said about being tired of having the stone cold personality all the time, he just couldn't handle the exterior of being a hot-shot lawyer with no worries in the world anymore.
"Oh, Harvey. Come here."
It had been years since they had touched. He couldn't even remember when they had just hugged. But that didn't matter. He was in her arms, he wrapped his arms around her and hid his face in the crook of her neck. The tears silently rolled down his face. Her soothing hands on his hair eased him greatly, and after a couple of minutes, he had finally calmed down.
Not wanting to break the embrace but not knowing what else he could possibly do to hold on to her, he pulled back and saw that tears were streaming down her face as well. Here was his warrior-princess, who had gone off to battle with him and also hid the fact that she was also beat. There was a difference between them, though. She still had hope.
Donna held onto his hand.
"Harvey. It's going to be okay. One by one, all these obstacles will be coming down. We're a family. We'll stand together and fight together, and everything will be alright soon, okay? Have faith."
He looked at her in amazement. In times when he was weak, she would pick him up without a second thought to herself.
"Seriously, what did I do to deserve you?"
She smiled. "You're a good man, Harvey."
He felt like he saw the light at the end of the tunnel for once. It had hints of red.
He cleared his throat.
"Sorry, do you still need a place to stay? You're welcome to."
He saw her debate the offer for a moment, much like he did when she propositioned him with her question.
"Can I?" she asked quietly.
He squeezed her hand at her answer. It seemed like the world was falling around them, and the two of them had finally realized they had only each other to cling on.
"Of course."
After much protesting them both being overly generous and trying to offer the other bed while the latter would stay on the couch, the situation resulted in them two being sensible adults who agreed they could be civil in bed.
Harvey woke up, with a snuggled Donna next him in his Harvard shirt. He hadn't slept that well in days. They had turned off the lights, slept on separate sides of the beds, but must've been attracted to each other in the midst of their REM cycles. He took a moment to look at her, dozing off peacefully in her cascades of red hair. Kind of like Ariel.
He laughed in his head. Only Donna would be a princess even when she wasn't conscious.
He looked up and saw the painting. She must've moved it when she got up in the middle of the night or something. He couldn't help but smile as his heart wavered. And then feel startled when his instinct wasn't to automatically repress those kinds of feelings.
Maybe he had a little hope left, and not just in the field of law.
And when all this shit ended, he was going to hold on, really hold on to this woman. Just like he had the painting for all these years.
It was funny, he later thought, how a painting made from a woman who had ran away was brought back by another who had alway stayed.
END
HELLO I haven't watched the new episode but thought about how much I wanted to see this go down. It was in my head so I sat down and wrote it out LOL enjoy!