A/N: Haven't thanked my friend and beta in a while so about time I do that again. She edits and coaches two of my multi's at the same time. Stef, you are wonderful!

Thank you reader for all the lovely comments. I appreciate them all so much. Let's continue this ride together shall we?

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Feels Like Home

Chapter 7

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.

So when you feel like you can't take

Another round of being broken

My arms are open

And when you're losing faith

And every door around you keeps on closing

My arms are open

Tuesday

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It is a notification on his phone mid-morning, that alerts Harvey to a package waiting downstairs. He looks over to Donna, who now has the in-house service app installed too. "I assume that is you abusing my credit card." He grins. "Are you picking it up?"

She bites her nail, debating what to tell him.

"I'll go downstairs with you," he offers and together they go.

Turns out there are two packages. One is filled with crossword puzzle books and the other is from Donna's favorite yoga gear store. It has socks, shirts, and bootcut and flared yoga pants that are easy to pull on.

"This isn't nearly breaking the bank." Harvey's mouth curves into a smile. "You can do better."

Donna spends the rest of the day doing crossword puzzles. She eats a fruit salad, made by Harvey, for lunch and takes two bites of the spaghetti he makes at night. She doesn't scoot to the edge in bed but listens to Harvey falling asleep instead. She barely sleeps herself and the little she does is nothing of the peaceful sort.

Wednesday

Harvey gratefully accepts the mug of cocoa she made him. Real cocoa. Made of his carton of whole milk and cocoa powder. She found the can of whipped cream he ordered when Rachel advised him to order those packets of Swiss Miss reduced-calorie cocoa. So it is topped with a cream swirl and dusted cinnamon on top.

"This is what will hopefully clear the headache that formed after painstakingly correcting the bylaws drafted by an associate." Harvey gets up from his chair to get his sore muscles moving. He isn't used to sitting in a chair for this many hours. At the firm, he moves around a lot more.

Donna frowns. "Why are you doing that yourself?"

"Because it is a new company set up by Joy McAfee."

"Getting too old to remember the names of her dolls?" Donna sits down on the couch, sipping her cocoa, leaving a whipped cream trace around her upper lip.

"Still just yours Debbie." His lips curl in self-appreciative amusement.

Harvey takes the sandwich that sits uneaten on the table back to the kitchen. He had some hope after she ate her Stonyfield yogurt with some fresh berries this morning.

"I'm sorry." She eyes his movements apologetic from her spot on the couch.

He gives her an encouraging smile. "You ate yogurt this morning. I'm happy with that. But please tell me if there is something you'd like. Anything."

"When I was sick my mum would make me Irish breakfast tea. Not the sweet kind we usually drank with milk but the strong kind. Together with her toast slandered with Irish butter and cinnamon sugar, it would often be the only thing I could hold down." Her still cream traced lips form a smile at the memories.

"Tea with milk?" Harvey sits down in the chair across from the couch. "Sounds disgusting."

"Actually Irish tea is more milk with tea." She pulls up her legs. "You fill ⅓ of the cup with milk before adding the steeped tea and then you add a generous teaspoon of sugar." She laughs at Harvey's face. "It is what my mum's childhood was filled with so she did the same with me. Endless cups of tea, all day. At breakfast or when I came home from school. The latter usually accompanied with some freshly baked blueberry scones or barmbrack or oatcakes."

"Barmbrack?"

"A traditional Irish cake."

"Your mother did her best to keep your heritage alive then?"

Donna presses her lips together. "We are proud of our Irish roots but it was more a matter of this is what she knew." Licking her lips she removed the cream trail which he is sorry to see go. "In the 50s, when my mother was young, her dad lost his job. They moved to this small house on the land of her grandfather. He had this farm and gave them a job. So while they were out harvesting, my mother would be in the big house with her grandmother. This is my great-grandmother that came to America pregnant with my grandmother on a boat straight from Ireland." A proud smile adorns her face. "Born and raised in Ringaskiddy, she provided my mother with everything she knew from her own childhood. Irish songs, recipes, tales, and superstitions."

"Ringaskiddy, it doesn't get any more Irish than that does it?" Harvey chuckles. "Ever been?"

Donna shakes her head. "No, we were meant to go but some things got in the way of our Europe vacation. It's still on my bucket list though."

"Isn't it almost—?" Before he can finish his sentence, Donna is already bobbing her head fiercely.

"Next week, the 17th is St. Patrick's Day." Her eyes sparkle. "It was such a highlight during my childhood. We'd dress in green and visit a parade. And it was the one day you could break your Lenten promise."

"Lenten promise?" Harvey knits his eyebrows together.

"Lent runs from Ash Wednesday until Easter. 40 days. You sacrifice one thing. I used to choose chocolate but it can also be TV or ice cream or anything really. It's about focusing on faith instead of material or luxury goods, about how you treat others. Strict observers like my great-grandmother would also give up meat on Fridays and fast on other days."

"But not on St. Patrick's Day?"

Donna's face light's up. "No, on St. Patty's you can break the promise. Which would usually lead to me overindulging and then I didn't want any chocolate for the next two weeks anyway. Worked really well."

"Somehow I don't think that was how the church had meant it," Harvey sniggers, the corner of his eyes crinkling.

She breaks into a laugh. "Definitely not."

Thursday

Donna had slipped out of bed at 6 am, which gave Harvey a much earlier start than he needed with no commute, but he supposes it'll make up for the time he will miss with Donna's therapist appointment later. He rubs his face, yawning, so he gets up for another cup of coffee. He really shouldn't because he feels a headache creeping up but he needs to be alert.

He woke up to Donna fretting again and he had softly rubbed her back, trying to let her know she wasn't alone. She stopped trashing the bed but hadn't woken up. He had fallen back asleep but now wondered if he had done the right thing. He wanted her to get as much sleep as possible at night but the circles underneath her eyes told him she hadn't actually regained energy from the hours spent in bed.

Donna had spent an hour doing a crossword puzzle, again, before taking two Tylenol tablets and crawling under the covers. Now she was asleep. He would have to wake her soon to get ready for the appointment. He is actually grateful for the excuse to not let her sleep all hours of the day. This turning around of day and night isn't the solution.

Harvey strolls into the room after Donna. It is a bright area with large windows and Scandinavian decor. She takes a seat on the sofa opposite of Dr. Dagony-Clark. He quickly assesses his seating options but when Donna's eyes flash up to meet his, he sinks down next to her. It is not that he minds being next to her, not at all, but this isn't about him.

Donna had filled out some forms and Dr. Dagony-Clark is quickly scanning them.

"So Donna, you work at a law firm?"

"Yes," Donna's voice is barely audible.

"What is it that you do there?"

Donna clears her throat and speaks up a bit. "I'm the COO."

"How is your company handling your absence?" Dr. Dagony-Clark looks at her directly.

"They are making it work, I think." Donna bites her lip.

The doctor pushes her glasses higher up her nose. "What did they say?"

Donna looks at Harvey. He nods at her and takes over. "I handled the communication with our managing partner. Donna wasn't in a fit state to do so right after."

Dr. Dagony-Clark hums. "Ah Yes, I assume you are the Specter in Zane, Specter, Litt, Wheeler, Williams."

Harvey frowned. The enormous long firm name was a thorn in his side. He much preferred the Specter Litt from not too long ago. "I am. And we are a family. Everyone's only concern is Donna's well-being. However long she needs."

"So Donna, you'd say you don't experience any pressure from your employer on getting back to work as soon as possible?"

Donna shakes her head. "I haven't even spoken to anyone really."

"They didn't contact you at all?"

"Well, I got lots of text messages. But just as worried friends. Not in their capacity as my employer."

Dr. Dagony-Clark scribbles down notes. "Okay, so we can establish that your employer isn't adding stress to your current situation?"

"No, not at all." Donna looks taken aback. "That is pretty much the only thing I'm not worried about."

Dr. Dagony-Clark smiles. "Good. It is much easier when you can focus all your energy on healing instead of dealing with non-understanding employers." She quickly throws in another question. "Tell me, did you respond to your colleagues?"

Donna wrinkles her nose, fiddling with the strap of her sling around her neck. "No," she admits.

"Did you talk to your friends? Your family?"

"No." Donna crosses and uncrosses her legs. She flicks her gaze to Harvey but he is looking at the woman opposite of them.

"So they don't know your current situation?"

Donna sighs. "No. Well—" she hesitates. "My best friend knows but that is only because she is married to Harvey's best friend and he blabbed."

"Harvey or the best friend?"

"Both!" A small smile forms on Donna's lips and Harvey smirks too.

"So this best friend—" Dr. Dagony-Clark trails off.

"Rachel, her name is Rachel."

"You haven't spoken to Rachel?"

"No. I sent her a text message that I'll answer when I feel less tired but—" Donna fiddles with the strap again. "That hasn't happened yet."

Dr. Dagony-Clark nods, jotting down notes.

"I know this one keeps her updated though." Donna tilts her head in Harvey's direction.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. He wasn't aware she noticed that. Because it's true. Rachel requests an update every day and is equally worried.

"Rachel is just a worried friend. As we all are," Harvey quickly adds.

"So this incident happened last Tuesday?"

Donna nods.

"At your home."

Another nod.

"And you've been staying with Mr. Specter since then?"

She nods again.

"And your relationship with Mr. Specter is?"

This time when she glances in his direction, Harvey does meet her eyes. How to sum up their history? "Friends," she says. "We've been colleagues and friends for 13 years now."

More notes are written down.

"You trust him?"

"Yes!" Donna's response is immediate and without hesitation.

Harvey's arm, which had been lying on the couch between them, moves just a little bit and his hand, ever so slightly, brushes her thigh.

"Do you trust others?"

"No." Donna is much more resolute than Harvey expected and his surprise doesn't go unnoticed.

"Do you suffer from insomnia?"

"Yes."

"Do you have nightmares?"

"Yes."

"Do you experience anxiety?"

"Yes."

"Panic attacks?"

"Yes."

"Do you avoid certain situations?"

"Yes."

"Intrusive thoughts and images?"

"Yes."

Harvey blinks rapidly at the last yes. He's around her all day but doesn't recall any signs to suggest she is experiencing this. He instantly feels terrible. How could he have missed this?

"Are you doing anything to suppress them?"

Donna plucks at her bottom lip. "Crossword puzzles," she whispers.

Harvey closes his eyes. He should have known. It all makes sense now. He reaches over and squeezes a few of her fingers.

The doctor keeps scribbling in her notebook. She crosses her legs and one foot hits the coffee table leg, hard. Donna almost jumps out of her skin. Harvey squeezes her fingers again in reassurance and Donna's cheeks turn bright red in embarrassment.

Dr. Dagony-Clark puts down her notebook. "Donna, I don't want you to tell me all the details of what happened today."

Donna exhales loudly.

"You are experiencing enough stress symptoms as it is. Symptoms that are very normal only one week in. However, you do show signs of hypervigilance and I'm concerned about your panic attacks."

"Hypervigilance?" Harvey wants to keep quiet but also feels he needs to understand to be able to help Donna.

"Hypervigilance is a state of increased alertness. If you're in a state of hypervigilance, you're extremely sensitive to your surroundings. It can make you feel like you're alert to any hidden dangers, whether from other people or the environment. Your brain and body are constantly on high alert. A loud noise is enough to overreact."

Donna cringes. It is like hitting the nail on the head but she feels so exposed. And they are only scratching the very surface.

Harvey slumps in his seat. Of course, he knew Donna isn't doing great but this woman can tell with a few questions that she is on edge all the time. He hadn't realized that. He thought being in his home made her feel safe.

"Donna, the way you are feeling is very normal after experiencing a trauma like this." Dr. Dagony-Clark emphasizes. "I can't stress that enough. However, on average, things tend to light up after about three to four weeks. For that to happen you need to engage again but I see a withdrawal in you. You're avoiding feeling your emotions."

Donna's head shoots up. "I feel enough when images—" she snaps but doesn't finish her sentence.

"Force themselves on you, yes." The doctor adds for her. Her eyes soften. "Donna, there is no shame in needing help. It is very easy to drown in negative feelings and experiences. A lot of people use emotional avoidance to cope but it is a short-term solution."

Donna stubbornly shakes her head while fiddling with a cuticle around her nail edge.

"Avoiding your emotions takes considerable effort, and as the emotions you are avoiding grow stronger, more and more effort is needed to keep them at bay. As a result, little energy may be left for the important things in your life such as family and friends."

Harvey's eyes grow wide. It tells Dr. Dagony-Clark enough and she picks up her notebook again.

"If someone is determined to avoid feeling their emotions, they may eventually turn to more drastic and unhealthy ways to avoid them, such as substance use."

Donna lets out a hollow laugh. "I'm afraid to venture outside and this one," she gestures at Harvey, "is around me 24/7. How would I even get hold of substances?"

"If the present is uncomfortable enough people are willing to go great lengths."

"I'm not going to sit here and have you tell me that if I don't wallow in pain, I will become a drug addict." Donna's eyes are spitting fire and she is half up when Harvey gently but firmly grabs her arm to pull her down.

He puts his hand on top of hers and laces his fingers with hers, his thumb rubbing her skin.

"How can I help?" he says huskily. "What can we do within Donna's comfort zone. I'm sure we don't need to go from zero to hundred right away?" He looks expectantly at the woman in front of them.

"Absolutely not. I'm not saying you need to go back to work, be in your own apartment, or visit a concert by next week. Or even next month or in three months." Dr. Dagony-Clark takes off her glasses and leans forward. "I know the image I painted here, Donna, is something that isn't likely to happen to you. You have a support system." She gestures at Harvey. "And to some level, you let him in."

Donna has her lips pursed. Not convinced she likes this woman yet.

"You know, most people come in here after six months to a year or longer dealing with PTSD. They only seek help when they have hit rock bottom most of the time. You are here one week after the fact. Acknowledging it already has such a hold on you that you could use help right away. That tells me a whole lot about you."

Donna scoffs. "He's been the one that hasn't let the subject of help go." She stares into Harvey's eyes. "This is his doing, not mine. I rather stick my head in the sand." She lets her head hang.

Dr. Dagony-Clark's lips form a small smile. "But you are here, admitting that. That tells me enough. About you, about him and the two of you."

Harvey shifts a bit uncomfortably. He feels like this woman could easily dissect their relationship right here right now.

"My recommendation is meetings twice a week, for now. To keep you emotionally centered and assist in activating coping skills. Do you do any sports?"

Donna shrugs. "I've been slacking lately due to work, but yoga."

"Please pick it up right away. Yoga is connecting the mind and body, relaxing, breathing correctly. I'm very pleased to hear this. I think it can be a very good outlet for you right now."

Donna perks up a little. Yoga is what she knows. She can do that.

"Harvey, you are doing a great job of being a supportive friend. Just keep doing what you are doing. Maybe help her talk to friends, family." Dr. Dagony-Clark purposefully takes in Donna's reaction. "You don't want to come out of this, having pushed everyone away."

Donna nods even though the idea of hiding underneath the duvet the rest of her life is more appealing than talking to friends and family about all of this.

Harvey speaks up. "I can do that. How about going outside, being around people?"

"Baby steps, Harvey. We'll get there along the way. But maybe there are some options in your building? Rooftop to be outside, some other amenities to exercise or entertain?"

"Plenty. Swimming pool, fitness, pool table, my condo has a balcony wrapped around." Harvey feels a bit stupid he didn't think of this himself. It is a perfectly safe, controlled environment to coax Donna out of his condo at least.

"Well, those are enough assignments for now. Yoga, connect with the people close to you, soak up some vitamin D, and try the amenities in your building." Dr. Dagony-Clark gets up. "And no, I don't expect you to accomplish that all in a week. Baby steps are a perfectly fine pace here."

Donna and Harvey get up as well.

"Same time Tuesday? That is if you feel comfortable enough to come back?"

Donna hesitates a second before answering. "Yes, Tuesday is good."

"Perfect. We can do this Donna. We will get you back to feeling yourself again."

"Thank you, Dr. Dagony-Clark." Donna shakes her hand.

"Please, call me Hilli. See you next week."

Harvey walks into the underground parking garage ahead of Donna. He pushes the unlock button of the black car and pulls the door open on the driver's side. When Donna doesn't do the same on the passenger's side, he turns around. She is standing at the back of the car studying the license plate.

He approaches her slowly. "Are you okay?"

She looks up at him. There is anxiousness in her eyes. He's not sure if it is the meeting they just had or the car ride in the chaos that is NYC traffic. It had been hard cajoling her out of the apartment this morning. The subway and sidewalk are more crowded than she can handle so going from his apartment garage to this one, underneath the office of Dr. Dagony-Clark, was the only option. It is only a few blocks but he'll have Ray take her for as long as necessary in the future. This week he has given Ray off as he is working from home.

Donna shakes her head, biting her lip. So Harvey instantly wraps his arms around her. "I'm proud of you," he whispers in her ear.

"I hardly said three words in there," she says muffled into his chest.

"You left the apartment and you faced a therapist that confronted you with your fears. That is a big step. And I should know. I'm the king of emotional avoidance. I hated having spelled out to me what would happen if I refused help."

He misses Donna raising her eyebrows still pressed into his body. His time in therapy is the one page in the book they always skip.

Harvey lets go so he is able to look at her. "How about we park at the sidewalk of Magnolia bakery and I very quickly drop in to buy something delicious, huh? Something to commemorate taking this first huge step."

The hope in his eyes, his eagerness for her to say yes is so present that she nods her head. A huge smile forms on his face and Harvey practically skips to the passenger side to hold the door for her. He isn't aware that Donna climbs in, with a pit in her stomach and her insides tangled into a thousand knots.