A/N: I am so grateful so many of you jumped on board of this angsty ride. Hold on tight please.
As always, my stories would be nothing without the fantastic Stef, my beta.
This chapter comes with some heavy trigger warnings for trauma, anxiety, panic attacks. Please proceed with caution.
Feels Like Home
Chapter 3
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If I'm tired of it all, will you let me lean on you
'Til I reach the other side?
If I run, will you follow me?
Never lose me from your sight
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At 7:30 am it's the alarm of his phone waking him up. He yawns and stretches. His back is pretty sore because his couch isn't all that comfortable but he'll never admit it. Anything for Donna.
Speaking of her. He hopes she got a bit of sleep because he heard her taking many trips to the bathroom, tossing and turning.
He fires up his coffee machine, searching for the vanilla in his cupboard. He decides to give her just a bit more sleep but when he's leaning against the counter in his boxer shorts and t-shirt, reading the newspaper, waiting for the coffee to be ready, he hears her bare feet on his floorboards.
She looks tired, sad, worn down. But he knows better than to comment on that. So he pours a few drops of vanilla in the coffee cup and slides it to the edge of the counter. She gratefully picks it up and sips. Her eyes close in pure bliss and when they open again she seems to truly see him for the first time. Her eyes travel down to his boxers and bare legs and quickly up again but her cheeks are already sporting a slight blush.
When her eyes reach his face, he displays a smirk, having caught her red-handed. "I'm just going to hop into the shower. Ray will be here at 08:30, police station at 9:00," he says, walking away.
…
At nine on the dot, they are ushered into a room at the police station and Officer Smith asks Donna for a recount of the events in her building.
She starts to tell her how she heard a commotion in the hallway and opened her door. There she found her neighbor Mrs. Kiriakis, 75 years old, in the doorway and on the steps of the stairs was Sean Allen who lives below Mrs. Kiriakis.
He accused Mrs. Kiriakis of having a party, singing and shouting very loud. Mrs. Kiriakis denied this and Sean started shouting at her, pacing one step of the stairs back and forth.
"A whole lot of obscenities left his mouth. First, they seemed to be aimed at Mrs. Kiriakis but very soon his sentences became weirder and weirder and it became apparent to us both that he wasn't talking to her but to someone who wasn't there."
Donna takes a sip of the water that was provided, before continuing.
"I told Mrs. Kiriakis to go inside but she stayed put and Sean suddenly came running up to her shouting again. 'You're torturing me with loud noises.' You could look straight into her living room and there was no one there which she pointed out. He kept yelling she was tormenting him and she calmly explained she didn't. I had my phone in the pocket of my cardigan and I slipped my hand in there to use the emergency call function. I didn't want to antagonize him by pulling it out so I just hoped that my cardigan wouldn't muffle all the sounds, that the shouting was picked up and that they could trace my phone."
Harvey is very impressed by Donna's quick thinking and he wants to tell her but Officer Smith already does.
Donna looks at Harvey and he nods, giving her the most encouraging look he has, so she carries on.
"The shouting attracted several other residents to come up the stairs."
"Do you know their names?" Officer Smith asks.
"Mr. Jones, Miss Hernandez, and Mr. Martin," Donna replies and Officer Smith makes some affirmative noises.
"I guess the number of people scared Sean or something because suddenly he pulled out a gun from the back of his pants and he pointed it at the stairs warning them not to come up further. Mrs. Kiriakis and I wanted to close our doors but he waved the gun in our direction and demanded we lined up against the wall outside our apartments."
Donna swallows. Her mouth feels dry so she takes another sip of the water. When her hand returns to her lap, Harvey slips his hand over hers. She doesn't look at him but keeps staring at Officer Smith instead. The warmth of his hand however empowers her to soldier on with the story.
"We did what he asked and he kept muttering stuff that wasn't aimed at any of us. 'I did but she won't listen. Her house is full of them, we must destroy them.' Mrs. Kiriakis whispered to me if I thought Sean was hearing voices in his head and suddenly Sean shouted something about Mrs. Kiriakis being the devil, pointed the gun, and fired."
Harvey squeezes her hand over and over but Donna doesn't seem to notice.
"I think I screamed, Mrs. Kiriakis slid down the wall. He shot her right between the eyes. I wanted to crouch down to help her, do something, even though the image freaked me out and it was obvious nothing could be done anymore."
Harvey looks at Donna but she doesn't seem to register him or Officer Smith. So he weaves his fingers through hers and holds tight.
"I guess I made some movement that triggered him because he pointed the gun at my head and said 'You're not the devil's little helper, are you?' He forced me into Mrs. Kiriakis apartment. He kept shouting 'Where are they, where are they.' And he yelled, 'Yes, I will do as asked sir.' He obviously didn't find what he was looking for so he dragged me to my apartment, with the gun to my head."
Harvey's eyes are spitting fire by now. He wants to hurt this Sean so badly. But tears are rolling over Donna's cheeks and he deflates like a balloon. He refocuses all his energy on her. This was so much worse than the quick summarization he was given the other night.
"He told me to go into the living room and there he looked behind curtains and cupboards. All with that gun pointed to my head. He couldn't seem to find what he was looking for so he got angrier and angrier and it was my fault apparently. He gave me a forceful shove against the wall, shouting I was the devil too. I used my arm to embrace myself from impact and it hurt like hell. I remember thinking he now thought I was the devil too so he would kill me as he did with Mrs. Kiriakis. But suddenly there was an entire police squad in my living room. They had overpowered Sean and I was being escorted to a chair to sit down."
Donna realizes it hadn't felt like she was at the police station anymore but rather that she was reliving the events of that night. A repetitive feeling on her hand brings her back in the here and now, the dark, slightly cold room. Sitting next to her is Harvey and he looks worried, anxious, and soft at the same time. She looks down and it is his thumb stroking the back of her hand that she has been feeling.
…
After what seems like a million questions, Officer Smith seems satisfied with her statement for now and they leave the station.
Once they are outside, Harvey grabs her arm and pulls her closer. He folds his arms around her shoulders, being mindful of her sling, hugging her as tight as possible.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't there to protect you," he whispers in her hair.
Donna's reply is muffled by his coat but he still hears it. "That isn't your job so it's okay really."
His face falls, his throat clams up and all he can think is I want it to be my job.
She pulls away and his face tells her everything. "No!" she says firmly. "Don't start treating me differently now you've heard that."
He rubs his three-day-old stubble with his hand. "Donna, you almost died," he cries out.
She puts up her hand. "Stop!" she exclaims. "I didn't, so can we not do this." Walking to the car waiting, she turns around and adds a, "Please?"
…
Closing the car door behind him, he asks again, while following her to the building. "You sure it is a good idea to go in there?"
"Harvey, stop treating me like I'm broken or something. It's my house." Her impatience showing.
So they silently ride the elevator. The 12th floor has only just been lifted from the crime scene status. They heard that at the police station.
As Harvey suspected, the area hasn't been cleaned yet and it is grotesque. He feels nausea coming up just thinking that could have been Donna. On Mrs. Kiriakis' door is a seal. They need to find a next of kin first.
Donna temporarily halts upon seeing the reminders of the fatal event and he rubs her back. But she shrugs it off, digging up her key, granting them access. She stomps inside, determined to do her thing. But as soon as she reaches the corner that brings her into the living room, she is hit with images and she can feel the tip of the gun digging into her temple again.
She hears blood passing through her ears, thump, thump, thump. A tightness in her chest, so pronounced it feels like choking creeps up. Dizziness, like she has been hanging upside down for hours hits her.
Harvey steps in front of her but she can't focus, her vision getting darker and narrower, appearing like a kaleidoscope.
She tries to take a deep breath to calm herself but her breaths are sharp and shallow. Her hands are trembling and as she grasps for something to hold on to, the trembling travels down to her arms and legs, leaving her unsteady on her feet.
She collapses into the arms he wraps around her and together they slowly sink to the floor as she starts crying.
He holds her close as he slides backwards to the wall, for support. Pulling her in, he manages to have her sitting between his legs, cradling her as close to his chest as possible. He takes deliberate steady breaths, hoping she can feel them through the layers of clothing he is wearing. He knows she's gotta ride it out but he will try to shorten the ride. He strokes her hair, softly threading his fingers through the shiny strands, whispering, "I know you're spiraling right now, and it feels like you can't control it, so let's just breathe together in the meantime."
He's not sure she hears or even registers him at that moment but he starts counting. Slowly, out loud with the hope she can join in, to focus on her breathing and slow it down.
"One, two, three, four, five." It is when he reaches six that he feels her move. She places her hand on his chest to feel his controlled breathing, taking some shallow breaths trying to regain control. He keeps counting. "Seven, eight, nine, ten."
She isn't where she needs to be yet so he tells her, "We'll do that again." And he starts at one again.
This time when he reaches ten, she is able to fill her lungs fully again, taking deep even breaths.
They sit together on the floor for a while longer. He tells her she is safe, he is there for her, and all kinds of other calming words he can think of.
Eventually, they get up and he lets her lean against him, wrapping an arm around her to hold her steady, knowing the exhaustion that takes over after a panic attack. Leaving the apartment behind, he guides her downstairs, back to the car Ray has waiting for them, and home to his condo, where she crawls into bed and falls into a deep sleep.
Harvey places two Tylenol capsules on the nightstand, together with a glass of water. The headache afterwards is the worst. He makes sure she is tucked in, sleeping peacefully, then creeps out of the room, letting himself sink down on the couch.
His head drops in his hands and he feels like he can finally exhale properly. She is in his bed, safe, sleeping, temporarily not dealing with the trauma she experienced.
He is glad his instincts, the overwhelming sensation that he needs to protect Donna, kept him afloat the past few hours but now he feels himself spiraling with the image of the uncleaned corridor, Donna's words playing on a loop in his head. With the gun to my head. He would kill me.
He reaches for his phone, dialing Mike. He has never done this before. There was never time before. Panic attacks slamming into him in full force but this time he feels it boiling up slowly and he prays to God he can still stop it.
"Harvey, my man, miss me this early in the day already?" Mike teases. "Or do you need the 148th Mike way to get you out of a case?"
"Please, breathe with me," Harvey croaks and Mike's laughter dies. He hurries to tell him, "Of course."
Mike immediately takes deep, steady breaths, as loudly as possible so Harvey can pull himself up on them instead of slipping further away.
"Take your time to feel okay. I'm here as long as you need." Mike speaks slowly, closing the door of his office, to not be interrupted.
Harvey focuses on all the regular sounds Mike is making. The rhythm of his breathing, the scraping of his chair. The calm tone in which he presents his words.
"Tell me some baseball stats," Harvey pleads and Mike obliges.
"Barry Bonds 762, Hank Aaron 755, Babe Ruth 714, Alex Rodriguez 696, Albert Pujols 662." Mike's voice carries through the speaker, the cadence of the numbers rolling over him in gentle lapping waves.
He heaves a big shaky sigh, closing his eyes. The myriad of words pouring down on him like pattering rain. Warmth seeping back into his veins, drowning out the numbness that had settled in his fingers.
"612, Harvey get a glass of water, Sammy Sosa 609." Mike slips it in so naturally, reciting all-time home run stats.
Harvey feels steady enough to get up so he does
as told. Mike silently punches the air when he hears the tap running.
Mike is still pulling up statistics from the corners of his brain when Harvey speaks. "Thank you."
"Anytime man, anytime," Mike assures him. "Do you think this might happen more often?" he gently pokes, in search of some answers.
Harvey draws in a sharp breath. "Maybe."
"You think we need to think of some code you can send me so I know I need to try to answer you? Because I might be in court or at the movies or something," Mike ponders out loud.
"I'll dial Rachel then. She's nicer than you anyway."
"She might be out to the movies with me. It might come as a surprise but we do stuff together sometimes," Mike retorts. "Now this may be the elephant in the room but you could call Donna."
Harvey huffs a bit and it tells Mike everything he needs to know.
"Donna is the reason for your anxiety." It is a statement, not a question. "What the hell happened?"
Harvey closes his eyes. He still hasn't discussed with Donna who can know, but he needs to talk to someone. He can only help her if he doesn't bottle it all up and keel over himself. So after an agonizing silence, he decides to share.
"Promise me to stay calm and not inform Rachel while we're still talking. I need some actual advice here."
"I promise, now out with it." Mike is impatient.
"Some schizophrenic resident lost their mind in Donna's building, shot her neighbor, and threatened Donna with a gun."
"Whaoo, wait, what?"
"Donna has a broken wrist and a huge trauma that she isn't ready to acknowledge yet."
"But how, when?" Mike has a hard time wrapping his mind around it.
"Two nights ago," Harvey reveals. "She was in shock when I got there. She's been staying with me since. We went to the police station this morning for her statement. If it didn't kill me, it at the very least broke me." He rambles on. "Despite my protests, she insisted on visiting her apartment and faced a major panic attack. I got her through that and back home here but—" He pauses, his last exhale not entirely steady.
"Faced with Donna's mortality you don't feel so blissful yourself," Mike finishes for him.
"Something like that, yes."
Mike puffs out his cheeks and releases the air. "I'm out of my depth here too Harvey. She needs professional help. You can't fix this for her, no matter how much I know you want to."
"I know." He sighs. "I suggested a therapist but that was a touchy subject in more ways than one."
Mike shakes his head. "You guys need to talk. With professionals and each other."
"Let's just nurse her back to health before I dump other shit on her."
"Fine, but you can't help her if you are slipping yourself," his best friend says wisely. "Listen, I want to talk longer about Donna and also you because I'm worried but I have to get to court."
"Go," Harvey replies. "I'm good thanks to your baseball stats."
"Rachel expressed her concerns because she texted Donna with no reply. I'm going to tell her tonight but also tell her to stay calm towards Donna."
"She might not be too pleased I told you, but I don't think shutting everyone out is the way to go."
"I'll call you later Harvey. Please call me or Rachel when you feel yourself sliding down that hill. You're not alone in this. We've got you. And Donna."
Harvey's voice is low when he responds. "Thanks, Mike." When he pushes the end call button he is filled with gratitude for having friends like Mike and Rachel in their lives.
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Please leave a review and let me know what you think of this emotion laden chapter.