This is a short chapter, but an important one. So I hope you enjoy x

Part 4:

Harvey jumps from the cab before it comes to a halt, throwing a fifty-dollar bill on the seat as he leaps onto the pavement. He all but runs, taking large strides towards the building, his eyes scanning the street, searching for any sign of Donna, or Kessler, but there's no trace of either. He tries her phone for the umpteenth time, and startles as he hears her ring tone, his gaze drawn towards the side of the footpath, where her iPhone lies, shattered by a spider web of cracks, somehow still functioning.

His heart beats at a mile a minute, fear clenching its fist around his chest as he takes the last few steps up the stairs to the door of her building. His hand fumbles in his pocket as he reaches for the key she gave him, swiping the card and pulling the handle with jittery fingers.

He's winded when he sees her, at first, overwhelmed by relief that she's safe, the air pushed from his lungs in a gust of breath. But on further inspection, he realizes there's something wrong.

She's trembling like a leaf, her lips and chin stained red, a tint that could be mistaken for lipstick, there's a pink streak on her cheek bone, the beginnings of a bruise, covered over by streams upon streams of dried tear tracks.

"Jesus, Donna what happened?" he asks, his concern evident, but she just stares back at him, her vision seems out of focus, he notices her sway slightly, blinking a few times as she takes him in, she's panting heavily, her breathing so loud you'd think she'd just run a marathon.

"Donna can you hear me?" he raises his voice, but she still doesn't respond.

Without warning, he watches as her legs wobble, knees caving in. He lurches towards her, grabbing her elbows as he supports her weight. Donna pulls away weakly, whining, it's the first sign of consciousness she's given him since arriving, but it worries him further.

"I've got you." He comforts, but she shakes her head, still resisting his help. Then, without warning, her eyes flutter closed, her body going slack against him, as a hand flies to wrap around her waist, taking her weight.

The first thing she notices is the throbbing in her temple. Her eyes still too heavy to open, she hears herself groan as she shifts her body, realizing she's laying on a mattress, the feeling familiar, she takes a deep breath through her nose, the smell of her own perfume wafting from the sheets. This is her bed. But how did she get here?

Her eyes crack open, testing her sight, but she winces at the dull light of the lamp in her room, blinking a few times before the sensation becomes bearable. She moves slowly, sitting up in her bed, her head still aching, resting her body back against the head board. Her hand comes to her face with the intention of rubbing her eyes, but upon making contact with her cheek, the light pressure sends a shocking pain through the entire left side of her face, pursing her lips in agony, a small yelp of surprise slipping from her throat.

Then it all hits her at once.

The confrontation outside the building, the way he spoke to her, followed her, cornered her.

Hit her.

She can barely remember a moment after that, all she can seem to recall is pure panic, someone else was there, talking to her, trying to help, but who –

Harvey.

At the thought of his name her mind is filled with a mix of relief and pure rage.

Thomas' words echoing in her mind, Harvey implying they were together – had been together – this whole time. Giving truth to the very allegations Thomas – and many others – had used to belittle and shame her.

How could he?

With great effort, she swings her legs off the bed, allowing herself a moment to recuperate, feeling lightheaded, the sensations in her body similar to that of a rough hangover.

She stumbles to her feet, clutching the bedside table for added support, with a push, she launches herself away from the bed, a move she almost instantly regrets. She moved far too quickly, her head whirls, nausea swirling in her stomach, she makes her way clumsily to the ensuite bathroom of her bedroom, bumping into her vanity table as she goes, knocking something over with a loud clatter.

Donna falls to her knees, just about reaching the toilet bowl as she heaves, barely anything leaving her empty stomach, did I even eat yesterday? She thinks, as her stomach lurches again, the anxiety surrounding the ordeal with Thomas, Harvey and the bar, had silenced her appetite, as well as giving her countless sleep deprived nights.

Donna chokes again, coughing at the dryness scratching her throat, feeling an inordinate amount of self-pity. She feels a hand on her back, someone kneeling beside her, holding her hair back. Not needing to look to know it's Harvey, briefly forgetting her anger at him as she leans into his touch, accepting the comfort she craves.

"What's happening?" she gasps between coughs, starting to feel panic clawing at her chest, was there something wrong with her?

"It's just the after-shock… it seems like it all got a bit too much for you," he soothes, but it doesn't pacify her, "You had a bit of a meltdown…" he explains, "I think it was a mixture of the stress, anxiety and adrenaline, I used to get like this sometimes – after a particularly bad…"

"Panic attack." She finishes for him and he nods, shushing her as she dry-heaves again, choking back sobs in between.

"Did you eat anything in the last twenty-four hours?" he inquires, and she shakes her head slowly, she sits back away from the toilet, leaning back on the edge of the bath, enjoying the coolness of the porcelain. He gets to his feet, wetting a face cloth and bending down next to her, wiping her face clean of the dried blood and sweat gently, but she flinches when he brushes her cheek.

He's riddled with guilt, mad at himself that he didn't get there sooner, or see something like this coming, ashamed he didn't notice the effect this whole situation had been having on her, the stress it's put her through, he was naïve to think they could just move past this, he can't imagine what she must be feeling. This whole situation could have been avoided, if he'd only paid closer attention.

Harvey waits a few minutes, giving her time to settle before asking the question which had been burning on his tongue since he arrived, although he was certain he already knew the answer, "Kessler did this?" he whispers, his thumb ghosting over the mark on her pale skin, not touching.

Without opening her eyes she nods, confirming his suspicion, his jaw and fist clench tightly in unison, "I already made some calls, reported his actions, we can get a restraining order, maybe even get him arrested –"

"Harvey, stop," she whimpers, it's too much to take in, the very mention of his name sending her on a downward spiral, and as she begins to recover from her lapse, her anger at him comes creeping back in, when his hand brushes her wrist she swipes it away, "I think you should go."

He looks dumbfounded, thrown by her sudden change of attitude, "I'm sorry I shouldn't have brought him up, I'm just so – "

"Please Harvey," she whispers, it's so hard to be mad at him, but she can't stop the feeling charging her veins, "I need you to leave."

She pulls herself to her feet, ignoring the protest of her body, the way her vision blurs at the action, her head still unsteady. He tries to help her but she waves him off, shuffling back to bed, stumbling on the make-up brushes she knocked over earlier. Harvey hooks a hand under her arm, stopping her from falling over. She resists his help, just like before.

"Let go," she gasps, tugging her arm away from him and collapsing on to the bed, "why are you still here?"

"Don – " she's not sure she's ever seen him looks so confused in all the time they've known each other, "Did I do something wrong?"

She takes a deep breath. Considering the question. Did he do something wrong? He implied that the allegations made about them were true, probably fueling the rumors the likes of Malik and Tanner take pleasure in spreading about her. But deep down inside, she knew she wanted him in that way, so why was she so mad?

"You implied that we," she gestures between them, "are a thing – don't lie – Thomas told me you saw him."

His silence confirms the truth, he stares at her, eyes filled with guilt.

"Do you know how that looks for me?" she seethes, she knows she should stop, that fury is fueling her words, but she can't stop them from gushing out, "You made me out to be exactly what they all think –"

"I didn't mean for it to seem that way –" he stutters.

"Well it does! And I'm the one that experiences the backlash, I'm the one they whisper about, I'm the one who gets called a slut!"

The tears are flowing freely now, not just from Donna's eyes, but also from Harvey's. He sits down at the edge of the bed, head bowed, not daring to look at her.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, and he means it, "I let my own feelings get the better of me, I was thinking about what I wanted instead of the affect it might have on you."

Her head snaps up, his admittion catching her attention, "What do you want?" she probes.

Harvey raises his head, meeting her eyes in a tearful gaze, "I want you," he admits, "and I have for a long while now, I always have, it just took me a while to realize it."

"Harvey –" she gasps.

"That's why I didn't deny it, because I wished it was true. I'm sorry that it hurt you." He replies, smiling sadly.

"It only hurt me…" she hesitates, "because I thought this would be another 'it doesn't mean..' moment, but now…"

"It does mean something, it always has." He confirms, moving closer to her, relieved when this time she doesn't flinch.

"Well you should know," she sits forward, taking his hand, showing him that it's okay, "That I want you too."

He smiles softly, and she mirrors him, a hand coming up to brush the crinkles of his cheeks as he grins, "We still have a lot to talk about – before…" she whispers.

"I know," he agrees, rubbing his thumb over her hand, "and now's not the time for it, you're not well, we're both a little out of it," he chuckles, "We'll talk about this tomorrow, and that's a promise. But right now, if you'll let me, I just want to be here for you?" he asks, tucking a strand of her behind her ear.

She smiles brighter, nodding her consent, she scoots over in the bed, letting him climb up beside her, his arm draped around her waist, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.

The feeling of contentment over powering the sorrows of the past few days as she melts into him, "This is all I've ever wanted." She admits.

"I wish we could've gotten here sooner." He answers sadly.

"That doesn't matter anymore," she assures him, "what matters is that we're here now…"

"And I'm not going anywhere." He finishes with a kiss to her temple.

They lie there, in the dim glowing light of her bedroom, letting the minutes slip past with ease, not saying a word. The way they hold and cradle each other saying all there is to be said – for now. After a little while, they rise from the bed, as he helps her out of her dress, unbuttoning his shirt a slipping it over her shoulders in place, as she hugs the soft cotton to her body, his scent brushing her skin, acting as an anesthetic as she slips beneath the covers, feeling more at ease than she had in days.

Donna feels the mattress shift next to her, as he nestles in, turning to face him, his features still as strikingly handsome in the darkness. Her instinct is to turn around, cuddle herself back into him, spooning, but she can't seem to tear her eyes away from the sight of him, here, with her, a twinkle in his eye that promises a new beginning for them, one without painful uncertainty or 'what if's'. An honest future, one where they are unafraid to lean on each other, unashamed of their closeness, every little feeling disclosed.

All this time, she had been so afraid. Fearing the failure of them, the rumors, the gossip, the allegations. Terrified that it might lessen her standing, all she's worked for, worried he might not return her feelings. But now, deep brown orbs staring back at, the corners of his eyes wrinkled in a smile, that feeling of horror seems to melt away, seeping through the cracks he's somehow managed to open up in her, and all it takes is the tip of his nose brushing her's and suddenly she's falling – no leaping – over the edge, allowing the dams to break, the love she'd held back flooding her veins in a surge of ecstasy.

And they know, that no matter what tomorrow holds, they will stand by each other's side, the one constant in each-other's lives, and the only one that matters.

Sleep takes hold in a matter of moments, both drifting off into a well-earned peaceful sleep, filled with dreams of all the wonders to come.

XXX

Part 5 is on the way soon... thanks for all the lovely support, your reviews always make me smile xxx