Young Hearts Fade into the Flood
THANKS TO ALL OF THOSE WHO REVIEWED AND THOSE WHO DIDN'T CAUSE I CAN READ STATISTICS AND I KNOW YOU'VE READ MY AWFUL FIC! BLESSED BE THE DARVEY FANS. Anyway, you see how fast I write when you review? ^^ ;)
New chapter! Unbeta-ed again because it's late, and I have a life (a bed) to go back to. Wrote this one in the span of 4 or 5 hours. So please REVIEW THE SHIT OUT OF IT.
Edit: And I know that 20,000 words later my take on our power couple might be a little out of character but I think you can forgive me for that since the show managed to introduce the F-word, a British poptart and a very unstable and weak Donna in the span of three months.
"Open the door, Donna," he said, banging on the door with his injured hand. He gave it one last blow before giving up and rested his head against her door frame.
His heart was breaking. He could hear her cry on the other side of the door. "Someday, Donna. I'll break that door for you," he said, hesitating one last time before leaving.
In the elevator, going down, he sent Rachel a text which simply said:
Something happened last night.
Please, go see her. She's at her place.
She needs you. And I need her. Harvey. x
Harvey headed back to his place to take a shower and change. Why hadn't he broken that damn door? He wondered. Did he feel giving her some space would make her realize her mistake? He was more thankful than angry at her. She had made him do the impossible. She had made him come to terms with his feelings for her. They could have everything now and that's what he wanted. He just hoped she wasn't too far gone.
Thoughts, thoughts and more thoughts. Harvey Specter used to be a man of action but he didn't know how to handle this particular situation. No more dwelling on that, he thought. His second text was for Ray to come and pick him up.
Donna was curled up against the door, crying over the way she felt about herself. Some time had passed since he had left her. She didn't know long she had been at another threshold – that of her door was the obvious one. She needed a hot comforting shower to wash away the cool wet tears on her face and neck. She stood up slowly, her legs almost too weak to carry her. She took off her close in the living room, not caring where she'd leave them. She would clean up later. The shameful fiery redhead went to her bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet. Maybe she should take a pill, or two to sleep. Pills. The pill. She hadn't even thought about that last night. She was supposed to take hers at 9. She hadn't. The chances of her getting pregnant at her age were slim anyway. She looked for an old prescription of Ambien tablets and took two. Needing to knock the edge off, she remembered her mother saying: 'Take one when you're down and two in case of emergency'. She swallowed the two sleeping pills straight. And as if on autopilot, she headed for the shower. The warm water coming from the shower spray soothed her just enough for her not to panic. She never mentioned a condom. Baby or an STD – care to bargain? A nervous laugh escaped her as she pictured Paula having the drip – hoping she hadn't passed it on to Harvey and so on. Yeah, that's not funny, she thought. She was the other woman. If someone deserved anything remotely awful, it was her, she thought. She thought she had heard someone banging on her door again before she let herself fall on the bathroom floor tiles. She dozed off, thinking about how his hands were a beautiful nightmare on her body and how they had let her heart go free for him. She didn't have it in her to risk losing him. She had to let him go.
Harvey was walking through the PSL lobby when an errand boy handed him a letter. Signing the receipt, he noticed Mike joining him. "Hey Harvey. Are you okay? You had me worried sick last night? Did you go to the hospital? Wait," he paused before adding, "What happened with Donna?"
"I – she–" Harvey stammered. Mike realized that his very own Bruce Wayne had somehow lost his bat suit.
"Hey Harv', I didn't–" Mike began but stopped dead in his tracks, putting a friendly hand on his mentor's shoulder instinctively. He felt that all he could do was offer his friend a reassuring smile.
Harvey didn't know where to begin. He opened the letter feeling that the only thing he was capable of doing at that moment was move his fingers and open the letter.
"This is from the Character and Fitness Committee," Harvey spat out, "This is a disbarment hearing–" Harvey couldn't breathe.
"This is Malik's doing, Harvey. There is no way I'm going to let that piece of shit disbar you. We're going to fight this," Mike tried to reassure his friend.
"They want to put me in a grave, Mike," Harvey stated, panic coursing through him. "I can't deal with this now." he added.
"I understand, Harvey. Let's see. May I?" Mike said, asking Harvey to hand him the letter. "The hearing starts tomorrow. They won't be able to enter the final order of disbarment without following the proceedings to the letter." Harvey felt his phone vibrate, took it out and read the text that popped up on screen.
She's not answering.
She used the spare key under the mat to open the door.
I can't get into her apartment, Harvey.
What is going on? I'm truly worried now.
"Mike–" Harvey tried to say, putting his phone back into his pocket.
"I will apply to the court to subpoena witnesses. And as you know, if they try to use collusion against you, we have Katrina's tape. I mean, Louis, Jessica, Rachel, Alex, and Donna – hell even Cahill – they will all testify to your impeccable character. The committee won't be able to prove you were misbehaving," Mike babbled.
"MIKE," Harvey shouted. "When did Rachel leave for Donna's?"
"I don't know – maybe an hour ago, an hour and a half? Why?" Mike asked.
"Take care of that hearing for me. I have to go," Harvey said, rushing to the elevator. Before the elevator door closed, Harvey said: "I know you won't let me down, Tiger."
Left with the letter in his hands, Mike decided to text the people he thought as Harvey's crew and scheduled a meeting. All hands would be on deck.
206. He was there. He couldn't hear anything on the other side of the door. "Donna, open the Goddamn door!" He banged on her door as he had done a few hours ago. He hadn't eaten in over 12 hours, only for a disgusting black coffee on his way to work. "Okay, you know what? Remember my promise? I'm breaking that Goddamn door now." he said, careful enough to use his left arm. Hitting it once. Nothing. The door hadn't budge and as a reward, he felt a huge pain running from his shoulder to his elbow. Hitting it twice. The lock was getting loose. Hitting it thrice. It was close to giving way. Hitting it one last time, he managed to get the door to open. When the lock broke, he thanked his boxing training, and not some force from beyond that would have bestowed inhuman strength onto him, for it.
The lights were dim and the corridor too dark for the light of day. Silence haunted the apartment – save for the sound of water dripping, coming from the bathroom. Moving in the direction of the bathroom, he heard the shower spray as he got closer. The bathroom door was half-open. "Donna?" he asked concern evident in his tone. No answer. He opened the door anyway, noticed how the tiles were drenched. Gradually, his stare switched from the floor to the shower itself. He saw porcelain freckled skin and wet darkened red hair. She was lying still in a fetal position under the shower.
"Donna!" he said, hurrying up towards her, feeling how cold both the water and her body were. "What did you take?" he said, turning the water off. "No, no, no, come on, wake up!" he added, shaking her to snap her out of it. Out of ideas and scared beyond reason for her, he told the unconscious woman in his arms: "Sorry, Don'." He slapped her about a bit. She slowly began to drift in and out of consciousness, shivering and moaning in pain.
"Good," he heaved a sigh of relief. "That's good." He picked her up in his arms and said: "Hold on." He walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
"I'm cold," she said, her teeth chattering.
"I know. I know," he said, enjoying the way her head and, curiously, wet hair felt against the crook of his neck.
He reached her bedroom, managed to turn down the bed and gently lay her down on the sheets. He walked out of the room and thought of a way to close the broken door. He pulled up a chest of drawers that was nearby and effectively made it impossible for anyone to walk in.
He went back to her bedroom, running a hand through his hair. In a matter of seconds, she took his breath away. He couldn't help it. His full-fledged staring gaze focused on her nakedness a little too long.
He averted his eyes again and walked up to her bed. In turn, he got undressed – leaving his boxers on.
"What… what are you doing?" she said with a stutter, still shivering.
He lay down next to her and rolled her on the side. Pressing his chest against her back, he placed the bedcover over them and took her in his arms.
"I'm just warming you up," he whispered into her ear and eventually nuzzled into her neck.
Reject me all you want, he thought, I'm never leaving you out of my sight again.
Regaining some of her neurons, Donna realized this – the situation he found her in – had made her look like an attention seeker. She slowly began to remember the pills and the shower. "I just fell asleep, you know," She explained.
He hummed strengthening his hold on her. She could sense his uncertainty. But like poison coursing through one's veins, she felt her blood start up again.
She felt his arms around her waist and gave into his warmth; her heart was pumping faster and her blood vessels were functioning again. "Harvey–" she let out and paused, "Why won't you just let me give up?"
"You've always known why," he concluded.
Seconds – maybe minutes later, he felt her fingers rest on his.
THOUGHTS AND... I GUESS YOU WANT MORE?