Thanks for reading everyone! My apologies for such a short last chapter. This one is a little on the shorter side too. But I'm trying to upload a chapter a day until it's it's finished. So there will be another one tomorrow. Reviews are an incredible motivation, please keep 'em coming! :)
Mike walked into Harvey's office, a scowl creasing his forehead.
"Harvey, we've gotta come at this Cummings settlement with more strength. We're acting like we're the ones begging them, when..." Mike broke off as he looked up from the paperwork he was holding.
"Holy Shit, Harvey! What happened to you?"
He had never, in the nearly eight years he'd known Harvey, seen him look so completely broken. Not even when Harvey had been fighting like hell to keep him out of prison, had he looked this bad.
He wore no tie, or jacket. His shirt looked suspiciously like it had been slept in, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His hair was a rumpled mess, all remnants of any sort of styling product absent from the short strands. There were clear indications that Harvey had been running his hands through it regularly.
His face had been buried in his hands as Mike came in but he looked up, when Mike stopped mid-sentence. His expression was desperate and wild. His eyes were dark and full of despair.
Mike could think of only one reason Harvey would be like this in the office.
"The letter didn't go well?" Mike asked with a grimace. Man, he wished these two would get it right.
"No." Harvey said, his voice a croak. "I slipped it under her door right after I left you guys on Friday. And I didn't hear from her all weekend. Nothing. Not even a text to say, 'You're a fucking asshole, Harvey'." He sunk his head back into his hands and his voice was muffled as he spoke to his desktop.
"And now Gretchen tells me she's called in sick." He looked back up at Mike. "Donna – sick! Do you ever remember such a thing? She's never sick. She just didn't want to have deal with my pathetic ass." He folded his arms and dropped his head on to them with a dull thud.
Mike had to admit, it was a pretty pathetic site.
"Come on, Harvey! There are a million reasons she might not have texted you this weekend. Maybe she just needed time to think things over. Maybe she was away at her father's or a friend's house. And maybe she really is sick today. Even the great and powerful Donna is susceptible to germs now and then. The point is you need to snap out of it. Sitting here like this isn't doing you any good."
Harvey's head snapped up. "You're right."
Mike wasn't crazy about the steely determination he saw in Harvey's expression now. That didn't usually bode well. His concerns weren't allayed as Harvey jumped to his feet and headed for the door. Mike tossed the folders he was holding onto Harvey's desk and followed him quickly out to the elevators.
"Harvey, what's the plan here?"
"You were right, sitting around isn't any good. I need to find out what she's thinking. And the only way to do that is to go ask her."
"Or," Mike said slowly, "you could take another day and maybe sleep on it. You're clearly exhausted. You don't want to say the wrong thing just because you showed up at her door, tired and not thinking clearly."
The elevator dinged open and Harvey walked through the doors. "My thoughts have never been clearer."
"Harvey!" But Mike's sage advice was lost as the doors closed on Harvey's extremely resolute expression. He just shook his head and headed to Rachel's office. She'd want to hear this.
Donna sat on her couch, trying to pay attention to the random chic flick she'd stumbled across while flipping through the channels. It was not working. She kept losing focus until she no longer knew which guy in the love triangle she was supposed to be rooting for.
She clicked the TV off and let silence descend. She decided she really didn't like it and was reaching for the remote to turn some sound back on when there was a sudden pounding at her door.
She sat forward on the couch. Who on earth…
Before she could ponder too long, she heard Harvey's voice on the other side. "Donna! I know you're home, so open the door."
Donna scowled. Presumptuous ass! It was her door and it was going to remain closed.
He pounded again, and shouted louder. "Donna!"
She rushed to the door, yelling through it. "Shut up, you idiot! I have neighbors and they don't need to listen to you. I'm...sick, go away."
Harvey's voice was mocking. "You are the worst liar in the world! Open the door." And he pounded again.
"Stop that!" Donna shouted.
"Then open the god-dammed door!"
She looked down at her wrist wrapped in a tensor bandage, and her arm hanging in a sling. She peeked in the mirror by her door and saw the patchwork of deep purplish and yellow bruises that crossed her cheek and jaw.
If Harvey saw this he would flip, and if he worked out who did it, he'd go after Malik in a heartbeat, before she could blink. She needed to try to keep him on the other side of the door.
"You can't just order me to do stuff, Harvey." She said angrily. "This is my house. I'm sick and I don't want to talk to you. So just go."
He was quiet for a minute and she wondered if he'd left. But in the next moment his voice came through, quieter and closer, as though he was pressed up against the door.
"Look, Donna, I'm sorry about the letter, okay. It was stupid. It was a stupid way to do this…I just…" He trailed off and then let out a little growl. "Look I don't want to have this conversation with you through your door. Would you just let me in? I promise I just want to talk."
Letter?
"Harvey, what letter are you talking about?" Donna asked him, completely baffled. "You mailed me a letter?"
There was a momentary pause before Harvey's voice was back. When Donna heard his tone she practically groaned aloud. It was his, "brook-no-argument" voice.
"If you're not mad about the letter then why aren't you letting me in? Donna what's wrong? What happened?"
His intuition was up now and he would not leave without seeing her. She knew how completely stubborn he was. She sighed.
"Okay, Harvey. I'll let you in if you give me your promise that once I open the door you'll come in and sit on my couch with me for at least an hour and have a cup of tea."
"What!?"
"Promise me, Harvey. One solid hour."
She heard what she was sure was the thunk of Harvey's head hitting the door. "Fine, I promise to drink tea with you. Now open the door!"
"For one hour!" Donna shouted out this important clarification. The hour was the most important part, time enough for him to calm down.
"Yes, fine! An hour!" she could here the exasperation in his voice. When she didn't immediately open the door he shouted again. "Donna!" he said, banging on her door one more time.
"Okay, okay!" she said. "Take it easy!"
She took a deep breath and opened the door. .
"It's about ti…"
Harvey's words died on his tongue. His expression darkened into a storm cloud. She'd never seen Harvey look like this, even at his angriest. His expression was pure, unfiltered fury and for a moment she was actually afraid.
His gaze swept across her face, taking in each bruise before travelling down her body. He looked at her wrapped up arm for a long time before moving on and seemingly taking stock of the rest of her body, searching for injuries. Finding no others, his gaze met hers. His voice was low and deliberate.
He spoke only one word.
"Who?"
