You might recognize this since I posted it almost a year ago, but took it down the next week for reasons I don't wanna get into. But here it is again, because I actually do like it. This is a message to anyone out there who needs to hear it: always write what you want. -Sam

He's there.

She's been pacing his condo for god-knows how long, running through worst-case scenarios, things she wishes she'd said, things she will say once he answers the goddamn phone, and every favor she could trade for a way into the US Attorney's office.

And now he's home; defeated in the doorway, disheveled and exhausted but no more worse for the wear.

The relief stings, hits her square in the chest and bubbles up into a mix of hurt and anger.

So she shoves him, hard, then flings her arms around his head, drawing him in, holding him hostage. His own arms circle her hips and pull her to him, nearly lifting her off her feet.

"You fucking idiot. How many times did I fucking tell you to keep your phone charged?" she bites, voice thick with emotion.

"They broke it," he murmurs into her hair and she instantly feels horrible.

"Harvey," she whispers, pulling back to pepper soft kisses on his face, leaving no surface uncovered. She sniffles into his neck, nails digging into his shoulder blades as she pushes backwards blindly, and they stumble over the coffee table and onto the couch.

Her hands fumble in his lap as she wriggles out of her sweats to sink down on him. She needs to feel all of him — consume him, envelope him, keep him here where he belongs.

And he lets her. He keeps his sturdy hold on her waist, reverent, helpless. Donna barely moves, the connection enough. Latches onto his neck, sucking and marking and tethering herself to him.

She doesn't finish; she's too raw and shaken, but he does, erupts inside her as she coaxes him along, then takes him by both hands and leads him to the shower.

•

He lets the water wash over him, Donna's body flush against his and her gentle admission of "you're a good man, Harvey" absolves him, cracks him open, allows him to breathe again, shuddering and slow.

They stand until the water runs cold, until she shivers, and he wraps the towel around her shoulders, wipes the droplets off her face that have mixed with her tears. Grabs her hand and pulls her onto the bed, and they fall beneath the covers naked and wet, her cheek on his chest while her lips press an open-mouthed kiss over his heart.

"Tighter," she whispers, and his arms lock around her waist; any tighter he might break her in half but maybe it's what she needs tonight, to remind herself that he's here. Here, and not going anywhere.

It floors him, suddenly, because he's so used to needing Donna that he rarely thinks about Donna needing him.

"I never want to go through that again."

Her quiet words startle him, dry and harsh.

"You won't have to." Harvey swallows, thinks of the promise he broke one too many times.

So you never have to feel scared like that again.

Donna grips him so hard he's sure he'll bruise.

"After you left, that night, before Mike's trial... I told myself I'd have to forgive you. And it would be okay, because you'd made that choice and you would be at peace with that, which means I could be, too." She stops, sniffling and burrowing into the crook of his arm. "I could never be ready for this. You, leaving because of something beyond our control. Someone who wants to put you away for the sake of putting you away. God, Harvey, I was so scared."

Her voice breaks and the pieces settle like a weight on his chest.

"I'm sorry."

"No," she says firmly, kissing his shoulder. "Don't be sorry. I mean it, Harvey. You're a good man."

"I told Sean that I was." He rubs his cheek against the top of her head. "That I'm fine with what's in my soul."

She waits. He loves that about her.

"And I am. But it's not about me." He takes her hand and plays with her fingers. "I don't wanna hurt you because of something I did. That's when I'd regret it."

Donna squeezes his hand in hers. Kisses each knuckle, then brings their joined hands down to her forehead and cuddles them close.

"I know who I'm with. You going to prison would hurt me, tear me up inside, but I would never resent you," she breathes over his heart. "I love who you are, Harvey. All of you. I don't pick and choose."

There's a burning in his throat and his grip tightens imperceptibly.

"What do you need?" he asks softly, because he's here now.

"You." She releases his hand so his other arm can fully encircle her waist. "Just hold me."

He does, and it's enough.