Harvey wakes to the smell of smoke, panic closing around his senses as he shoots up in bed. His head is pounding and he feels like shit, the feeling blanketing any potential danger. Instead of rushing to the sound the fire alarm is creating, he's flooded by memories of the night before, and instantly wants to throw up.

Fuck.

He's half tempted to let the place burn. It would be easier than facing the reality of losing his mother and simpler than dealing with the guilt of how he'd treated Donna but survival instinct, or the nearest thing he has to it, kicks in.

He forces himself off the bed, catching himself on several pieces of furniture to steady himself. The room is spinning and his legs don't feel like they're attached to his body but the incessant beeping drives him forward, and he stumbles into the open plan apartment, his heart lurching as his eyes fall on Donna.

She's stood waving a tea-towel, trying to disperse the smoke coming from a pan of something crispy and charcoal, and if he wasn't in complete shock, the whole thing would almost be amusing. It isn't though. Nothing about this is funny, and he rights himself, moving to take the cloth from her hand so he can at least stop the noise drilling through his sanity.

It cuts off abruptly, plunging them into silence, and his gaze shifts to the bench that's adorned with coffee, juice, pastries and several pieces of bread ranging from lightly toasted to singed. He doesn't understand what the hell is going on, and his jaw firms on instinct as his eyes move back to her.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wasn't deliberately trying to burn down your apartment, if that's what you're thinking." She tries to lighten the mood, but the attempt fails doing nothing to cut through the tension. Honestly, she'd expected the reaction. He's never dealt well with being caught off guard, and although she hadn't intended to wake him so abruptly, this was always in the cards. But just because something is hard it doesn't mean they simply give up. His words had stung, but after talking to Rachel, she'd realized why he'd been so angry. Relationships are about compromises, not self-sacrificing, and maybe they care about each too much sometimes. They react to protect each other without discussing it first, and that's the position she'd put him in last night. It wasn't fair on either of them, and she's more serious as she angles her body toward him. "I'm here to apologize."

He frowns, confused by why she would ever think what happened was her fault. He was the one who'd gotten blind drunk and almost taken advantage of her. Then he'd been nothing short of cruel when he'd told her to leave. The only reason he can justify her being here is out of pity which stirs his anger.

"Donna-"

"Let me finish." She pushes a mug of coffee towards him, shutting down his aggression. She's not giving him a free pass. They both made mistakes, but given the circumstances, all she wants to do is focus on the smaller and more accessible truths. "Tell me honestly, do you want me to leave right now?"

He opens his mouth and closes it again. There isn't much he can remember after she'd walked out on him, but what he can recall had been bad. It was a low he hasn't experienced before, and he never wants to feel again, but it doesn't feel right that she's here just because his mother died. He's responsible for his actions, and moves himself to the nearest stool, collapsing his weight onto it and burying his head in hand.

The reaction softens her expression, aware that the struggle he's going through is more than he can handle, and she edges around the counter, pushing down his palm and replacing it with her own. He glances up, his eyes betraying the pain he's in, and she strokes her thumb softly against his cheek. "I can call you an ass if it helps."

It's not funny, and he hates the part of himself that gives in so freely. "I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do." She challenges, perplexed by the fact he can't see something so obvious. If it wasn't for him she might not even be here right now. Her hospital stay had opened her eyes to a lot of things, and they could tally up fifteen years worth of bad choices, but it's always going to lead them back to a blank slate because forever is a long time to keep score. The important thing is they're together, and neither of them are going anywhere, no matter how hard things get. "It's going to be okay."

He leans into her palm, accepting the comforted he'd denied himself yesterday, the throb in his temple another reminder he hadn't handled things the way he should have. Getting blind drunk had been a mistake, and he sucks in a sharp breath, moisture catching on his lashes. He still can't believe she's making this so easy and regret pools in his chest.

When he'd found out about Lily he doesn't know how many times his finger had been poised over the speed-dial ready to call Donna, but as selfish as it is, part of him had been acting out of spite. He'd felt the crushing blow of losing his mother without her there. She was always there, and her absence had reinforced his doubts from the last conversation he'd had with Lily. That things would spiral out of his control, and he wouldn't be able to handle it.

He'd reacted badly and is ashamed, but Donna's gentle touch doesn't waver, and he needs to fill in the blanks to piece together what his alcohol soaked memory can't recall. "Marcus told you?"

She nods, dropping her fingers to rest against his knee. She'd had her suspicions about why his younger brother didn't call her first, and she moves in front of Harvey, sitting on the stool opposite him. "He was concerned... about me as well, apparently."

There's a curious note to the comment, and he doesn't see any point trying to hide the truth. "I called Lilly when I wasn't sure what to do about..." he stops, catching her gaze, "when I was worried about you."

She blinks, surprised by the admission. After their failed attempt to work on the Murdoch case he'd kept his distance, and it wasn't until he'd confronted her about Louis that he'd opened up, revealing how afraid he'd been. She hadn't thought about him struggling before then, and her face pales with guilt as she withdraws her hand. "I never meant-"

"I know." His expression softens, and he can feel the tables turning. They're both dealing with so much guilt but he's been so focused on the last conversation with Lily, he hadn't even stopped to consider all the ones they'd had before that, including when he'd first told her about Donna. "She was a big fan of yours."

"Isn't everybody?" She jokes, only to disguise the tears forming in her eyes, but he brushes them away before she can reach them.

"I'm sorry, too." His eyes grow darker, feeling sick to his stomach thinking about how scared she'd been last night. The fear might not have been aimed directly at him, but his actions had caused her distress, and he'll never be able to properly forgive himself for what happened. "There's no excuse for how I behaved."

She closes her eyes, wishing she could tell him that she'd honestly wanted to go through with it. In the very least explain why she couldn't, but now isn't the time. He needs to call his brother back and Mike, then they have to start preparing the funeral arrangements. "You need to shower."

She smiles, and he knows she isn't upset or angry, but this is something they need to talk about. Maybe not today, but at some point soon. For the moment, he's just grateful she's here, and he swallows the lump in his throat, placing a kiss against her temple.

They'll get through this and he knows if Lily can somehow see them now, she's able to understand that even if they're not ready, he and Donna will find their way despite the odds.

AN: It's short I know, and the next update will take a little longer but I have a few other things on the go which will hopefully make up for it! Do I get points for not leaving it on a cliffhanger? :P