Chapter 13

"Where is she?" Harvey pushes past Rachel, scanning the room Donna, pissed off and frustrated that he'd had to find out about Drake through Rachel, and only after his wife had been questioned by the police.

"Harvey, calm down." Rachels warns, closing the door behind him. "She's okay. Sleeping." Or was trying to, the last time Rachel checked. The detective's integration was relentless, the men grilling Donna over every tiny detail and leaving the shaken woman convinced Ryan's appeal will be granted by a judge. No amount of reassurance on Rachel's part had helped, and she's never seen her best friend so wrought with panic before; only settling when they got a hold of Harvey over the phone. After he promised to come home, she managed to convince Donna to get some rest, promising she would wake her as soon as Harvey arrived, but she holds off on going near the bedroom, wanting to talk to him alone for a few minutes.

"What happened?" he asks, trying to follow her instruction and breathe more calmly. His handler at the FBI had no information about the appeal, but he trusts Rachel. The woman is a good lawyer, sharp and quick on details, so if the police gave anything away, he knows she will have picked up on the slip.

Rachel moves around him, stalling at the kitchen, and leaning against the bench with a sigh. "They think Ryan's lawyer is going to try and use Donna's false testimony to get him a more lenient sentence. They still have your statement and all the signed paperwork from the F.B.I, but it looks like she may need to testify if there's a hearing for an appeal." She watches his eyes flash with worry and knows he's concerned about an appeal getting through, but that's not what has him on edge. He's nervous for the same reason she is because Donna could barely handle being questioned by people on their side, and after the state Donna was in when they left, Rachel's annoyed Harvey waited until today to corner her in the firm's kitchen and ask for help. "They made her go through that night over and over again, Harvey, and she was a mess."

He stiffens, wincing at the brunette's glare. Up until he decided to go back to work, Donna seemed fine—a little clingy maybe—but over the past few days he's noticed her withdrawing, not from him, but the rest of the world. Not wanting to start work was one thing, but a hearing is the last goddamn situation she needs right now, and he scrubs a hand across his face, moving next to Rachel and pressing his palms over the countertop. He can sense the woman's anger, but instead of getting defensive, his shoulders sag in defeat. "I'm sorry, Rachel."

The apology comes out of left field, surprising her. He could be sorry for any number of things; involving Mike, hurting Donna, the rift between them. But as she takes in his deflated expression, she can tell he never meant to cause anyone— especially Donna—this much pain. He was the catalyst but also a victim of circumstances, and she folds her arms over her chest, accepting the apology with a small nod. "I know you are… But the two of you are holding onto all this guilt, and if you want to help Donna, then the person you need to ask forgiveness from is yourself."

He stares down at his hands, breathing in raggedly. "It's not that simple."

"I don't care." She doesn't snap, but isn't going to coddle him either. Maybe Mike would use a softer hand, tread around a few more eggshells, but the reason Donna and Harvey work is because they've never been content in a bubble. They've always been prepared to challenge hard truths, even when the consequences have cost them, and this time shouldn't be any different. "You can't protect Donna from something that's already happened, no matter how much you want to."

Rachel's right—he knows that; the firm hand easier to wear coming from the fiery brunette over anyone else. Truthfully, they've always had the least in common, but when she took over Mike's job, he pushed her hard and she earned his respect. Now, she's more than just his best friend's wife. He needs her guidance, just like he would take advice from Donna or Mike, and he nods, screwing his eyes shut. "I'll talk to her."

There's a rawness pinched in his expression that draws her closer, and she gives his arm a soft squeeze. In all the years she's known him, he's always kept his armour steeled in place around her, worn his anger like a shield, and for the first time she's breaking through it, accomplishing something that few have. "It's going to be okay."

He glances at her, the words of assurance and her soft smile managing to lift his reservations. "I know… Thanks, Rachel."

She lets her hand fall down, knowing the best thing she can do now is focus her effort where Harvey doesn't have time, and she grabs her purse off the counter, slinging it over her shoulder. "Mike and I will start looking into the appeal. I'll call if we find anything."

Relief washes over him, the gesture more than he would have thought to ask for, and when he hears the front door close, he collects himself, pushing up and heading toward the bedroom to check on Donna. When her voice sounded on the end of his phone he knew instantly something was wrong. Rachel had pre-warned him about the police showing up, but Donna had practically begged him to come home, and he hadn't thought twice about leaving the office. All he wants to do is be near her, but as he enters the darkened room, he feels strangely out of his depth when she sits up, flicking on the bedside lamp. "Hey." He swallows his hesitation, moving across to perch on the mattress beside her. "You okay?" She nods, forcing a smile that he doesn't buy for a second, and he closes his hand over the blankets, doing his best to reassure her. "I called my handler, and Mike and Rachel are going to look into the appeal. You don't need to worry, we'll get this sorted out."

She pulls her knees up out of his grasp, groggy and wanting to believe him, but the last promise he made was one he couldn't keep, and she shifts her gaze away from him, heat crawling up the back of her neck. She tried to be strong, answered every question she was dealt with careful precision, but each second felt like she was being accused of something, reminding her she's the reason Harvey got shot. And now Ryan might get a free pass, all because she let Harvey down, again. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he says seriously, wishing he could pull her in his arms and comfort her, but before Rachel voiced her concern, he knew he wasn't seeing the whole picture. Hell, he even called Ethan on a reluctant whim, hoping the man could shed light on why she was so hesitant to go back to work. The actor admitted she's been refusing to take his or anyone else's calls, and he leans on Rachel's advice, pushing Donna for answers. "But you need to talk to me about what's really going on?"

She flinches, confused by what feels like another, although more subtle attack. "Ryan's appeal isn't enough?"

He dips his gaze down, stealing a deep breath so he can force the hard truth to surface. "You weren't okay with me going back to firm, and I want to know why." He musters the courage to look at her, but she turns away, staring at something far off across the room, and he tries to breach the sudden gap between them. "When you decided to take more time off, I called Ethan. He said you haven't been answering anyone's messages."

"You called Ethan?" she snaps her attention back to him, feeling a sting of betrayal from both men.

"I did, and I spoke to Rachel," he admits, coming clean. Ethan isn't exactly on his list of all-time favorite people, and he would be relieved Donna had decided to cut ties, except that her behavior is scaring him. He thought she just needed some space to regroup, but seeing her in pieces when she has no reason to be afraid only adds to his conclusion that she's not coping. "You're avoiding work, you've barely left the apartment… I'm worried, Donna."

He tries to reach for her, but she pulls out of his grasp, moisture stinging her gaze. When he was gone, she hated herself for wasting so many opportunities. They had to work to find time together, and she isn't ready to let that security slip away. He's acting like they should be glossing over Ryan's appeal, skipping off to the theatre without a care in the world, and she's quick to defend herself. "I'm on leave… I didn't think I was going to be punished for wanting to spend more time with you."

"That's not—"

"Fair?" she speaks for him, her voice laced with bitterness. For the past few hours, she's been reliving the nightmare of losing him, down to every minute detail. For two months, fair didn't exist. She let Ryan get away with murder and exhausted herself living with the shame and guilt. "I'm the one who gave a false testimony." She flips the conversation back around to the person he should be worrying about. "So, I'm sorry I'm not rushing out to celebrate the justice system just yet."

A sigh coils in his chest, and he exhales, shifting up beside her on the mattress. "Drake's not getting an appeal, I'm not going to let that happen."

She dips her gaze, and he feels a tug of hurt at her apprehension. The reaction isn't unwarranted. He let her down, lost her trust, but he's going to do everything in his power to restore her faith in him. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Donna."

Her eyes flash up, filling with a mix of frustration and anger. "What do you think I'm afraid of?" He startles, his mouth parting with confusion, and for all the times she's wanted to slap the ignorance out of him, this is by far the one that takes the most restraint. "You got shot when it should have been me," she snaps, heat flushing her cheeks. "I wanted it to be me."

He stiffens, every muscle in his body refusing to accept a scenario where she was the one hurt, and his voice is hoarse—warning her not to go there. "Donna, don't."

"Why?" They've talked about everything else. Everything except this—the fact he acted selflessly to save her when she screwed up and let a murderer into their home. With Stampler and Ryan behind bars, she thought she could bury the guilt, but now they're right back where they started: in trouble because of a decision she made and Harvey ready to dive under a bus again. But what's worse is he can't even acknowledge that she chose to protect him first. He won't. Because he can't face the idea of going through what she did, and if he tried, maybe he wouldn't be so quick to judge her for needing more time to stop and catch her breath. "You have no idea how hard it was, knowing that I was responsible—wishing every single day that it had been me instead."

He screws his eyes shut, trying to swallow the bile washing up his throat. She's right. He doesn't know, because there wasn't one fraction of a second where he blamed her. While he was gone, he knew she would grieve—he didn't realize, didn't think, that she would carry around the same guilt that would have undoubtedly destroyed him. Their problem isn't that he acted impulsively—it's that they're both willing to make the same sacrifices to protect each other.

They can't apologize for loving each other, and the irony that they're arguing because they care too much isn't lost on him. There's no middle ground, here. Which comes as a surprising relief. It means they're never going to stop fighting for each other, and he swipes his eyes, turning to her with all the compassion he can choke out. "It wasn't your fault..." The assurance is one she's probably heard a thousand times over, from all the people she pushed away, and maybe those words are the reason she kept everyone at arm's length, but she hasn't heard them from him, and he's never believed anything with more conviction. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to make you see it… But nothing you did put us in any more danger than we were already in," he explains softly. "Stampler knew about Jessica, he had Drake tailing us. It was just a matter of time until he made a move."

Even if what he's admitting holds some truth, they don't know how different circumstances would have played out, and she shakes her head adamantly. "That doesn't mean—"

"Donna, listen to me," he claps her hand firmly, refusing to let her pull away. "You're right. I can't stand the thought of anything happening to you. Maybe that makes me a hypocrite… but I still know what you've been through. I see it every day. I see you opening up and trying, then I watch you slip again, and you go to a place I can't reach. I'm not saying we have to rush this… You don't even have to tell me what's wrong—not if you don't feel comfortable, but hiding away like this, letting Drake's appeal get in your head isn't healthy."

"What are you saying?" she asks, uncertainty wrapping around a beat of panic—that he's threatening something she isn't ready for.

"Nothing." He's quick to assure her there's no intent behind his concern. He's not going to force her to do anything. Instead, he's honest about his own experiences dealing with anxiety. "When I was in protective custody, I had counseling sessions. They helped, and I just thought, maybe you could give something like that a try."

She visibly watches him hold his breath, and her anger turns toward herself as she draws her knees up. She felt attacked by the detective firing questions at her, but Harvey isn't punishing her, he's here trying to help—refusing to let her push him away, even though she wasn't consciously aware that's what she was doing. He's right. Ryan got in her head, brought all her fears flooding to the surface, and she tilts her gaze with a frown. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"It's okay." He relaxes his shoulders, sinking against the headboard. "I could come with you, if you want?"

She smiles softly. Maybe what he's suggesting isn't the worst idea, but there's more to it than how she's coping mentally. Physically, she hasn't had the energy to face leaving the apartment, and it's time she admitted that. Not only to Harvey, but to herself. "Nothing is changing."

"What do you mean?" He pinches his brow, confused.

"I don't feel like myself." She purses her lips together, trying to think of a way to explain it so he can understand. "I know the doctor said it would take time, but if anything, I just feel more exhausted. That's why I extended my leave."

His mouth twitches, worry playing across his expression as he pushes her hair back. She's been doing everything right, resting and eating more, and the thought that maybe they missed something when she was admitted knots in his stomach. "First thing tomorrow I'll call and make a doctor's appointment."

She nods, already feeling more at ease as she leans into his palm. "I should have told you."

He shakes his head, moving his arm down around her shoulder and tugging her against his chest. "You did."

It would have made things easier if she mentioned something sooner, but the important thing is finding the cause of the problem, and they're one step closer now she's ready to accept help.

"You really called Ethan?" she asks quietly, after a moment of silence.

"You mean that arrogant little shit who hit on my wife?" he comments flippantly, confirming he did.

She glances up at him, the look of annoyance in his features showing just how far he was willing to go if she hadn't stopped to listen. "Thank you, Harvey."

He meets her gaze and deftly shakes his head. "Uh-uh… No." Just because he reached out, doesn't mean he's in any way inclined to start a friendship with the snob. "We're not getting another puppy. Remember how much trouble the last one was?"

She snorts, sinking back down and tracing her hand over his shirt, feeling the soft beat beneath her touch. She doesn't want to think about Mike or the complicated tension between them.

Not today, at least.

The fear of testifying is still too all-consuming, but she has faith in Harvey, and whatever happens, they'll face it together.

AN: Thank you for all the kind encouragement and support! I know this fic has evolved slowly compared to some of my other ones, but I've enjoyed the challenge of moving things along with baby steps 😛 As always, thank you to Southsidesister (darvey_love) for dedicating her time and talent to beta, and to Beth (NAhavenbb) for a continual flow of ideas 💖💖