THIRTEEN YEARS

Chapter 10 - Tomorrow

He is standing over me. His face is dark and his eyes are even darker as he ropes me to the bed.

I try to struggle. I call his name, but he doesn't respond. I beg him to stop. "Mitchell, please …"

His face is close to mine as he strengthens his grip around my neck. I look into his eyes, pleading with him to stop. Begging him to let me go. His eyes get darker. His fair hair becomes darker. I can't breathe, but it isn't him … it isn't … he stops and stands back, just watching me.

"Harvey?" I cry but I still can't move. "HARVEY?"

"I can't save you. I can't protect you. It's me you need protecting from."

X X X

I jolt upwards in the bed, my eyes slowly adjusting to the dark.

"Donna, it's okay, you've had a bad dream."

I feel Rachel's hand on mine and I hear a click as she switches on the light. She was sleeping next to me and I feel bad for waking her. I feel even worse for encroaching into her life because I know how hard things are for her with Mike in prison. I'm the last thing she needs right now.

I take a few deep breaths and try to make my heartrate slow down. I feel sick. The last time I had a nightmare I was sick, so I panic and jump out of the bed to make sure I don't ruin Rachel's beautiful cotton bedding. She gets up to. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shake my head and breathe deeply, trying to calm myself down, but my body is shaking and I don't know how much longer my legs will hold me up. She puts her arms around me as we stand and eventually I start to feel better and I take a seat on the edge of the bed. "I've had dreams like this before … I'm sorry …"

"Hey, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay. I shouldn't be here. You have enough to contend with."

Rachel's deep brown eyes pull me in. "Don't even think of worrying about me, Donna. I'm here as long as you need me. I want to help. I can't be there for Mike, but I can be here for you."

I smile and allow her hold to comfort me. It's a strange change of dynamic. I am always the comforter and I don't know how to be this other person. This pathetic person who can't stop crying and has bad dreams like a child. I don't think I've ever been in this position before, so I allow Rachel to take her turn.

"What do you dream about? You were calling his name – Mitchell's."

I take a deep breath and clear my throat. I start rubbing my leg for no good reason. Nerves, maybe? "It's the same as before. A combination of what happened. I'm usually on my bed … tied to my bed … then …" I wipe away a few tears as Rachel hugs me tighter, making soft 'shushing' noises into my hair. "… then he strangles me."

"Oh, Donna, I'm so, so sorry. I just can't believe you're going through something like this."

I sniff more tears away and glance at the clock on the bedside table. It's one a.m. and I know Rachel has school tomorrow. "You need to sleep. We should go back to sleep."

She nods and strokes my arm tenderly. "Are you sure you're okay?" I nod back. "One more thing. You called out Harvey's name in your dream too. Does he save you in your dream?"

I freeze as the haunting image returns like a freaking zombie clawing at me. I shake my head, "no, he didn't. Not this time." Rachel's eyes are persistent as she wills me to continue. "This time it wasn't Mitchell, it was Harvey who was … who was doing it … oh, Rach what have I done?"

She doesn't understand but I can tell she's worried. She reaches over to the table and pulls a handful of tissues out of a cube-shaped box that is trimmed with lace. "Do you want me to call him?"

"No, I can't see him."

"He's really worried, Donna. He has sent me three text messages to check you're okay. We shouldn't have just left a note for him. You should have talked to him before coming over here, you should …"

"I said no, Rach! Jesus Christ!" I shouldn't be raising my voice but I can't explain how I'm feeling and I can't make her understand what this is like. Hell, I don't understand myself, so how can I expect Rachel to. "I'm sorry. I can't … I just need …" my voice hitches in my throat and croaks softly. I realise for the first time that my throat is starting to feel better. At least that's one thing to be thankful for.

"Donna, I'm going to be here for you, okay. I'm here and you can cry, you can scream, you can talk, and you can hide away here for as long as you want, but I'm also going to ask you questions you might not want to answer because I don't think that shutting Harvey out is the right thing to do right now."

"How do you know? How …? You don't know who we are. You don't know what this means … this thing … this nightmare that's happened. He …"

My heart misses a beat when I hear a knock at Rachel's door. The knock is swiftly followed by another, then another and then silence. I feel panic rise in my chest and I can hear my blood pressure thudding in my ears. I can't help what happens next. Fear overwhelms me until I can't think of anything but running. "It's him. It must be him." I break down and I cry so hard that poor Rachel starts to panic too. In between trying to calm me down and wondering what the hell she should do, she gasps as I run from one side of the bed to the other. "Don't answer the door. Please don't answer the door!"

"He doesn't know you're here, it can't be him. He doesn't know who I am or where I live."

"I've mentioned you to him. He knows you're my best friend. Please, Rach … please … oh my god, oh my god, please …"

There is another knock. Louder this time and more insistent. Just like before. This is the way it happened before.

"Go to the bathroom and lock the door."

"No, no!" I walk towards her and clutch onto her arms and I think she must think I've lost my mind. I feel like I have. I feel crazy. "Don't answer. He'll hurt you and I couldn't live with myself if …"

"Rachel."

We both hear it and our eyes both tell each other's the same thing. We both relax. "I'll answer it," she says gently. "What do you want me to say?"

I shake my head and shrug. "I don't know."

Another knock accompanied by a pitiful plea. "Rachel, please."

"I'll go."

"Are you sure," asks Rachel. "Do you want me to come with you?"

I shake my head. "No, just stay here and try to get some sleep. I'll be quick and I'll try to keep the noise down, I promise."

Rachel nods and gives me a hug before I go.

X X X

For some ridiculous reason I find myself smoothing down my hair and wrapping my robe around me neatly before opening the door. Isn't that strange? After everything I've been through and after Harvey has seen all the ugly marks on my body, I'm still worrying about what I look like.

I take a deep breath and steady myself before opening the door, but when I pull it back I gasp in shock as I see the state of the man who has always been my rock. He practically collapses through the doorway and stumbles past me into the living room. His skin is dark and wet, his eyes are lost and his breathing is shallow. He looks at me pleadingly and his chest wheezes heavily.

"Harvey what is it? What's happened?"

He folds his body down into Rachel's armchair. "I'm okay. I'm okay," he repeats, but I know he's not. I know he's having a panic attack.

I run to the kitchen and quickly pour a glass of water, before running back to him. He takes the glass and thanks me. I leave him to sit quietly for a few moments as he composes himself. He wipes the sweat from his brow and he slumps back against the chair, his eyes fixed to the ceiling as he takes deep and seemingly painful inhalations of air.

I don't speak. I sit opposite and wait for him. I protectively curl my legs up under my chin.

He finishes the glass of water and wipes at his brow again. And then he looks at me. "Why?" is all that he says to me.

I don't know how to respond. I feel like shit. I've done this to him again. I left him and it happened again. Is that what he's asking me? Why did I leave, or why does he get panic attacks after I do? I'm sure this push and pull we have is terrifying for both of us now. We are interconnected with each other. Our roots are entwined and for thirteen years we have grown towards the sun with every single branch of our lives tangled together in a huge fucking knot that neither one of us can unravel. Our relationship has become symbiotic. We can't function alone. Yet we can't be together.

"I just needed space, Harvey."

"But … I …" he looks to the floor and he looks like he's about to break down. Then, inexplicably, he stands up. "I should go."

He walks towards the door, but I catch him. "No, no you're not leaving like this. Not again. Talk to me. Why are you here?"

His eyes are covered in a thick veil of water that I know is about to shatter. The fifth time? Tears slowly erupt from his eyes and dampen the tops of his cheeks. It is the fifth time I've seen him cry and the fourth in the past three days. I feel responsible for that. And I know what you're thinking, I know I shouldn't. I know this isn't my fault, but I can't help it. Harvey hates showing weakness.

He quickly composes himself as I wrestle my own tears. "I couldn't bear not being close to you. I need … I can't …" He isn't making any sense and I'm worried. I know this is hard for him. Talking about his feelings and even having emotions at all is torment for Harvey. I lead him back to Rachel's living room and I sit next to him on the sofa.

"I'm sorry," he says as he regains some composure – as well as some colour.

"I left to give myself some space to think, Harvey. I'm sorry. I just needed to get away from …"

"From me?" He looks heartbroken as he asks the question and I feel like shit. Again.

I nod slowly. "I don't know what's happening to me Harvey. I don't know what's happening to us."

He reaches out to me but I shuffle backwards. I don't want him to touch me. I can't go down that road again. I don't want to feel love that is there, but isn't there.

"When I got back from work and you weren't there, I panicked. I saw the note straight away, but I panicked because I … I can't let you go. I need to feel your pulse when you're sleeping. I need to hear you breathing. I need to listen to your voice and I need to know you're safe."

His voice trails into a sob and I'm shocked by the strength of what he's going through. I didn't expect this. I knew he cared for me, I knew … well I thought … he loved me, but this just seems too much. "Harvey, I don't know what to say."

"I know and I hate myself for this. I hate myself for doing this now, but I didn't know before … look, you know I love you. I told you and …"

"And then you backtracked."

"But you know why I did that. You're Donna. You know."

I exhale deeply and wish I could breathe out my pain and confusion so it is gone forever. "Yes, I know, but that's not good enough. You couldn't do it, Harvey. You couldn't be there for me and you just went right back to the way things have always been. I can't live my life like that. It took this to happen and now suddenly you want to make grandiose confessions and promises to me? I can't … it's too soon … I don't know how to feel and I always know, but this time I don't because I'm lost and I need to be found and I need time to do that."

"Donna, I've tried to explain why I did what I did all those months ago. I love you and I always have, but I shut it out of my brain for thirteen years because you had that rule and I had a track record with women which told me that if I even thought about having anything more than the best goddamn friendship in the fucking world with you I would screw it up and lose you forever. That's why I went back to how thing have always been. But I can't go back now, not after this."

He moves towards me again, but this time I don't flinch. This time I allow him to reach for my hand and hold it in his.

"You nearly died and you're damn right when you said that changed how I feel, because I refuse to go back now. I don't want to go back. I can't let you go again. My fucking stupid body won't let me let you go because look what happens to me when you leave. I want to try … and I'm asking you if you'll let me try."

For thirteen years I've been imagining this moment. This exact moment right here. This precise second of time when Harvey Specter asks me this question. I envisaged feeling elated. I thought there'd be flowers and kisses and then we'd probably follow it all up with some whipped-cream infused fun in the bedroom. So, right now, a few seconds ago, it just happened. And I don't feel anything but confusion. I look to the floor and I run my fingers along the scabs on my wrists, reminding me yet again of how close I came to losing my life. This wasn't how my life was going to turn out.

"I don't know, Harvey. I think we're two damaged and incomplete people and I don't think we can complete each other until we fix ourselves."

"Come back to me. I'll give you all the time you need. We'll go see Doctor Agard first thing tomorrow – both of us – and we'll get fixed … and … just come back …"

I can't take it anymore. I fucking know what it is to be strangled until you can't breathe. I've had somebody squeeze everything but the last breath out of my body. And now? Now I feel like I'm suffocating all over again. I love him, but I can't.

"No, Harvey!" I rise to my feet and he looks like he's been hit by a truck. I immediately worry he'll descend into panic again, so I do everything I can to make what I'm going to say easy for him. "I'm not walking away from you. I'm not saying no to you, I just need to come to terms with this."

I sit back down on the sofa next to him and I worry I won't be able to do what I have to do as I look into his eyes and see how hurt he is. "I'm scared Harvey. I'm permanently fucking scared and I have never felt like this before … I hate this … I hate who I've become and I hate what he's done to me and I hate what this has done to you. I've lost control and I'm always in control. Always. When you knocked on the door just now I thought it was him and I was so terrified I didn't know who the hell I was or where I was and I wanted you so much … but …" I allow him to hold me and I shake as I continue. Jesus, when will this end? When will I be Donna again? "I don't want you to love me because you pity me."

"Donna, I don't. I don't pity you."

I raise my hand because I'm not finished. "I don't mean pity me the way I said before – months ago. I mean … you're in shock too. I don't want you to suddenly want to be with me because you feel sorry for me. I don't want what he did to be the reason you want to have a relationship with me. If you love me I want you to love me for the right reasons."

"Donna, every single time I've looked at you over the past thirteen years I've known that I loved you. I love how you talk, how you laugh, how you tease Louis, how you put everyone else's needs before your own, how you do your Donna magic and fucking know everything. I love who you are. I love the way your hair smells after you've just washed it. I love how you walk when you wear those ridiculous high shoes. I love how you don't take shit from anybody – especially me. I haven't felt this way about anybody else – not Zoe, not Scotty – not anybody. I feel this way about you and it's huge and it's awesome and it's petrifying, but I know it's real. And I don't want to stop feeling it and I don't want to shut it out. I want you to come back with me and let me help you through this because I am in love with you."

Life is wonderful isn't it? No sooner have I contended with the fact that Harvey Specter is good for nothing but heartbreak, this happens to me. My plans to leave were halted by losing Mike. My plans to get the firm back on its feet were devastated by Mitchell. My plans to get my head put right before I make any more fucking plans are halted by these words Harvey has spoken to me tonight. Everything has been turned on its head. I have no plan anymore. I have no control anymore. All that was me has been blow away and in its place I've been left with a love so strong and strange and unexpected that I feel even more lost.

Maybe this horror I've been through with Mitchell was meant to be. Do you believe in fate? Maybe there's somebody up there who knew Harvey and I belong together, so he made it all happen like this because it was the only way. It would stand to reason that Harvey needed a fucking gigantic shock before he got his ass into gear. But I don't believe in fate and I don't believe in gods. I used to believe in myself and I used to have faith in Harvey, but I'm not sure of anything anymore.

"What are you thinking?" He breaks my silence with a shaking voice and pleading eyes. I want to tell him what he wants to hear. I want to feel his love for me but, I know it isn't that simple.

"I'm thinking I love you, Harvey." He smiles at me and my stomach flips over not once, but five times. It flips the way it always flips when he smiles 'my smile' at me, but it's also flipping through fear of what I have to do. "But, I can't do this. Not yet. It's too soon."

His face falls with disappointment and I can't believe I'm doing this. Not after all of these years. "Hey, I understand," he says.

"Do you?" I ask and I watch his face change as his brain processes. "It seems like I've been waiting my whole life for this. For you. You're my soulmate and … oh my god … I love you. I love you in all of the same ways and more that you love me. It's always been you." I screw up my nose and sniff to stop more tears falling from my eyes. "Can you give me time? I need time to heal, to get better. If I went back with you now I'd never know if we were real or if we just happened because I was almost killed."

He doesn't have to think and he's smiling still, so I relax. "I get that. I'll do whatever you want."

"Okay. Well I'm going to stay here overnight for a while."

He nods his acceptance.

"And you're going to set up some sessions with Doctor Agard."

He nods again. "Consider it done."

"And I'm coming back to work tomorrow."

He opens his mouth to protest, but then he reconsiders. "Whatever you want to do and you can do as much or as little work as you want. And you can stay late to work or leave early … anything."

I smile appreciatively. "Sounds perfect."

"It will be."

I nod my head and I feel better. I think he does too. "So … time to get some sleep, or I'll be good for nothing tomorrow."

I walk him to the door and he opens it, but stops. I knew he would.

He turns around and runs his fingers through my hair, letting his fingertips twist a few strands around his thumb. "I've always loved your hair," he says. And then he goes.

I watch him leave and I wonder about tomorrow.

I wonder if this means we can't ever go back.