Prompt #37 by darveyxbizzle: "precanon Donna comforting Harvey make it Christmas themed and she could be comforting him about anything with lots of hugs and kisses and maybe tears? and eventually they have a talk and confess their feelings for each other."
Donna lets out a long, desperate sigh as she casts a glance over her living room. She counts three suitcases, a huge green bag closed by a red ribbon that looks like it's going to explode any minute now and a shopper bag with her laptop and some other office stuff she knows she won't use but decided to bring with her anyway. There's no way she'll be able to carry all of these to the train station by herself, let alone considering her niece's Christmas present, which she just remembered is still securely stored in a corner of her closet, waiting to be wrapped.
It's the high-pitched voice of its recipient what brings Donna back to reality.
"Aunt Donna, will you be here tonight to kiss me goodnight?"
She raises her phone again, meeting the gaze of the five-year-old through the screen.
"I'll be there to kiss you good morning, okay? But if you want me to do that, I have to leave now or I'll miss the train, alright sweetie?"
"Yeah, we'll see about that," she hears her sister say in the back and Donna shoots a deadly glance her way.
"Okay, aunt Donna."
"I'll see you soon, I promise. Love you!"
Donna hangs up without waiting for an answer and runs to her bedroom to wrap the present, the horn of the taxi she booked outside the building doing nothing but giving her more stress, when her phone goes off again. It's a long, weird number, like the ones they use in the firm, but she doesn't recognize it. That means it can't be Louis – she made her new boss promise he wouldn't call during her days off, and it can't be Harvey either, because... Well, because it can't be him. But what if it is?
She shakes her head as she declines the call and returns to the living room. She's mentally preparing her strategy to get out of her apartment with all the bags and not die trying when her ringtone breaks the silence again.
"What?" She basically growls right after picking up.
"Ms. Paulsen?" An unfamiliar voice greets her.
"Yes, it's me."
Donna feels her entire body tensing up on alert, somehow anticipating the caller's following words.
"According to our files, you're the emergency contact of Harvey Specter, is that right?" She hums, impatiently, "I'd like to inform you that he has just been admitted to the ER due to–"
Donna doesn't hear anything else after that as every sound coming from the phone gets replaced by a loud, almost painful ringing in her ears that accompanies her all the way to the hospital. She throws some bucks in the back seat of the taxi and rushes inside the facility, dodging every person she finds in the hallway until she reaches the ER's front desk.
"How is he? Harvey Specter," Donna says in response to the astonished face of the receptionist, "how is he?"
"Donna Paulsen?"
"Yes, yes, I am Donna Paulsen! How is he?"
"Ma'am, please, calm down. I cannot give you that information, but I'd let the doctor know you're here." The nurse rounds the desk and grabs her hands in an oddly maternal way. "Why don't I take you to the waiting room?"
Donna nods and the woman guides her to a not very welcoming room with some plastic chairs and plain white walls.
"The doctor will be here in a minute," she promises before leaving.
The minute turns into twenty and Donna is starting to lose her mind. She's already gone over every possible reason that could've taken Harvey to the hospital, the most dramatic ones included. She knows it's a terrible idea, so she decides to focus on her surroundings, but it doesn't make her feel any better. She watches how other people in the room get called, how they cry or laugh in euphoria. She watches nurses and doctors passing by but they never meet her gaze, as if they were purposefully avoiding her.
She tries to recall what the nurse told her over the phone, but it's useless. She said something about a fall, or was it an attack? Could it be a heart attack? Donna stands up and walks around the room for the sixth time. It could be, considering his family history. Oh God, is he...?
"Ms. Specter?"
Donna turns to the spot where the voice came from, finding a woman in a white coat.
"Yes, that's me," she practically runs to her, unaware of what she's actually replying to.
"I'm Dr. Blake, nice to meet you." Donna shakes the hand she offers. "I bring you some good news. Your husband is doing fine–"
"No, he's not my husband," she rushes to clarify. "We are–"
Ex-colleagues? Colleagues turn into one-night lovers turn into colleagues again turn into almost enemies?
"Friends, we're friends."
"Oh, alright. Sorry, I assumed… Anyway," the woman clears her throat, "Harvey had a panic attack that caused him severe dizziness and he fell backwards, bumping his head against the edge of the sink, probably, which left him unconscious. Luckily, a delivery man arrived soon after that and the doorman got worried when he told him that Harvey didn't open the door, so he called 911."
Donna tries to catch on to the doctor's narration but her mind gets stuck in the very beginning.
"Sorry, did you say panic attack?"
"Yes. He told us he's been going to therapy when we suggested it and his record confirmed it, but I'm afraid it may not be working if he's still suffering from them."
Therapy? Them? Does it mean he's had panic attacks before?
Donna mumbles in response, not sure of what to say. She wasn't prepared to hear something like this, so she doesn't have an explanation to offer. She simply couldn't anticipate it, and that is something that has never happened before.
For a moment she wonders if the doctor got some cases mixed up and is mistaking her for another patient's wife, but deep down she knows it's just a ridiculous attempt to excuse herself for being so oblivious. If Harvey had gone to therapy, she would've known. The Harvey she knows doesn't have panic attacks in the first place.
And yet, some stupid files say otherwise. It's his name and his personal data that appears on them, beside other words that she never expected to read or hear in the same sentence. "Harvey Specter is having panic attacks and he's going to therapy", they state, throwing in her face that they know him better than she does.
So Donna just stands there, speechless, pretending to know everything about the person she just claimed to be friends with, wondering in which moment he became a complete stranger.
"As I was saying, the wound is just superficial and the stitches will eventually fall on their own. His mental health, however… That's what we should focus on."
Donna just nods, following the woman down a hallway.
"I'm planning to discharge him in about an hour, but you can see him now if you want to."
Dr. Blake motions to the door in front of them and smiles at her encouragingly before making her way back to the front desk, leaving a petrified Donna behind. There's nothing more she wants right now than to see him, to make sure he really is okay, but she's also afraid of what she might find on the other side of the door and, mostly, what version of Harvey will be there, the one she knows or the one that is nothing but a total mystery for her.
The redhead shakes her head at her own stupid idea and opens it.
"Hey," she whispers, doing her best to look calm, but the sight of Harvey lying on a medical bed, surrounded by all kinds of devices that beep incessantly, threatens to tear her facade down.
"Hey," he replies, furrowing his brow. "What are you doing here?"
"I still am your emergency contact," she offers him a crooked smile as she reaches the bed. She debates between taking his hand or sitting beside him, but decides to remain standing, fiddling with her fingers to prevent herself from doing something inappropriate.
"Sorry, I forgot to change it," he looks down, as though he were struggling as well.
"It's okay," and she means it. It's silly, but she doesn't want to stop being his emergency contact, even if she's not his secretary anymore.
"So," she clears her throat, "how is that little head of yours?"
Harvey stares back at her with his eyes wide open, clearly amused with her choice of words.
"Don't," she wags a finger at him but he's already chuckling. "You scared me, okay? I'm still recovering."
"I'm sorry, Donna. It's not a big deal," he says, no trace of humour left in his voice. "You can go home now, I don't think this is how you planned to spend the day before Christmas Eve."
Donna studies his face, trying to find something that can tell her if he's serious or not, but all she sees is that little sparkle in his eyes he always had whenever he asked her to stay late at the office, so she replies, with a shy smile he rapidly mirrors, "I'd like to stay, if you don't mind."
And so she does, talking with him about anything and everything until the doctor lets them leave. She has a million questions about the panic attacks and the therapy, and about his life in general, just to check if she still knows everything about him, but it's not the right moment so she just puts them out of her mind temporarily and lets the conversation flow.
The nice, pleasant, even, bubble they have created around themselves vanishes all of a sudden when they arrive at Harvey's place. The lights and the TV are still on and Donna notices a glass of scotch on the coffee table, waiting to be drunk. Every furniture and every corner of the apartment is now a painful reminder of what happened and, especially, what could've happened.
Donna approaches the kitchen counter, picking up some tissues stained with blood – his blood, her mind reminds her, that were left there.
"I'll clean this up," she tries to sound determined but her trembling voice betrays her.
"Donna, stop," he orders, taking the tissues off her hands. "Hey, look at me."
She keeps her gaze fixated on an undetermined spot of his sweater but finally concedes, giving him that look that makes his stomach churn.
"I'm fine, Donna. I've got way worse punches in the ring," he jokes, although he's not really expecting her to laugh.
"I know, I just... You were alone, and–"
"Don't think about that. I'm here now, okay? That's all that matters," he offers her an honest grin as he rubs her upper arms delicately, as if she were made of porcelain. "Why don't you order something while I go clean up and take a shower?"
Donna just hums in affirmation, averting her gaze just in time so he can't see the tears brimming in her eyes. She can't fool him though, and Harvey considers staying with her or making a dirty joke about them showering together, but this is the first time in almost three months they're on considerably good terms and decides otherwise, telling himself she just needs some space.
Donna has already laid the table by the time Harvey returns to the living room. He jokes about her ordering food from that shitty Thai place he secretly loves and she plays along expertly, almost as if she hadn't spent the last fifteen minutes crying her heart out.
"What's on the package, by the way?" She absently asks as they finish their food.
"Oh, um," his hesitancy catches her attention and she slows her movements. "Your Christmas gift, actually. I assumed you weren't going to buy yourself anything since you're not, uh, working for me anymore, so I wanted to give you something."
Donna looks down, feeling the awkwardness return.
"Actually, I wasn't going to the firm tomorrow," she confesses. "I took some days off to visit my parents. I was about to leave when I got the call."
"What?" he exclaims, "let me get you some train tickets. If you leave now, you might arrive in time."
Harvey gets up so quickly he gets dizzy and closes his eyes in a vain attempt to maintain his balance, but Donna is faster and catches him before he falls.
"Whoa, easy tiger!"
She helps him to sit down again and runs to the kitchen to bring him a glass of water, never taking her eyes off him.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"But–"
"No, Harvey. And I'm going to call Jessica to let her know you're not going to work tomorrow either."
"Donna," he whines.
"Don't 'Donna' me. I'll be here first thing in the morning."
"You're not staying?" The words are out of his mouth before he can even ponder them. She looks as disconcerted as he is, so he quickly adds, "well, I mean, you could use the spare room. It's almost two in the morning, I don't want you to go home alone."
Donna weighs her options. Staying is not exactly the best choice. They're still in a weird place and she hasn't had enough time to think over this new, unknown aspect of Harvey's life she just found out. However, she doesn't want to leave him alone and it's too late to find a taxi anyway, so she simply nods, choosing to ignore the way his face lights up ever so slightly.
"I should call my mom to let her know I'm staying in the city."
"Go. I'll take care of Jessica."
Donna smiles briefly at him and she gets out of the room, locking herself in the bathroom. As expected, she has to bear the insufferable comments of her sister but Clara encourages her to stay until Harvey is completely recovered.
She makes her way back to the living room and sits beside him on the couch, refilling their glasses with water.
"What? We're not drinking any alcohol tonight, mister."
Harvey rolls his eyes mockingly, making her laugh.
"Jessica wanted to send someone so I had to tell her you were here, hope you don't mind," he says, breaking the silence after a while.
"Did she know? About…?"
She doesn't dare to finish the sentence, in case there's still a chance it's not real. But it is, she can see it so clearly in the way his face falls and he averts his gaze from hers.
"What's going on, Harvey?"
"I don't really know where to start," he grins bashfully.
"Why don't you begin by telling me what happened today?"
"I had an argument with Marcus," he stops to take a deep breath. "He wanted to know if I was spending Christmas with them so I told him I had to work and…"
He throws his hands in the air, and the gesture makes her suspect he won't tell her anything more about it, at least not tonight. There are more important things they need to discuss anyway, so Donna just takes a mental note to ask him about it later.
"The doctor said it wasn't the first time you had a panic attack," she waits for him to shake his head to continue, "when did they start?"
"About three months ago."
She frowns, trying to remember what happened then. Norma just passed away, so the Liberty Rail thing had already finished, which means–
Oh.
The realization gradually dawns on her, tightening her chest to the point she has to remind herself to breathe. He meets her gaze then, and that's all she needs to confirm her suspicions – that she provoked his panic attacks.
Donna was aware that her decision of leaving him had consequences and she doesn't regret it, not even now. She had her reasons and she'll always stand by them, even if it caused both of them irreparable damage. And yet, she kept wondering why Harvey was treating her like a stranger or if he'd ever cared about her feelings. Little did she know he's been dealing with his own demons all this time.
"Harvey, I'm–"
"No, Donna. Don't apologize. You've never done it, don't start now."
"But I started them."
"Actually, my therapist says they're caused by the, uh, thing with Lily, so…"
"I should've known anyway," she mutters.
"You weren't my secretary, it wasn't your job anymore."
"What?" She pulls back a little, visibly taken aback by his words. "Harvey, I care about you. I've always had, and not only because you were my boss. You're–," she stumbles, once again struggling to find the right word to define their relationship. "You're Harvey, and I'm Donna, so yes, I should've noticed something was going on."
It's not that she wants to monopolize Harvey's life, but if someone was supposed to realize he was going through something like this, it was her, and she failed. She could fool herself and take comfort in the fact that Harvey was also keeping it under wraps, but the thought of him actively hiding it from her doesn't relieve her in the slightest, quite the contrary.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" She asks after a beat.
"Because I might not be Donna, but I knew you were gonna react like this," he shrugs, as if it were a valid reason. "I don't want you to feel responsible for my mess. I respect your decision, even if it has taken me a while to accept it."
They share a smile, an honest but also knowing one, and it reminds her of the ones they used to save for the other and that she had already begun to believe she'd never experience again.
"I'm sorry, Donna, for acting like a child with you. You didn't deserve to be treated the way I did and I'm really sorry if I hurt you or made you think I hated you or anything, because that can't be further from the truth."
Donna has to make a real effort to blink, not being able to take her eyes off his shiny ones, and that's when she realizes that hers are equally watery. She looks down and sniffs, trying not to lose it in front of him.
"I don't know what to say," she confesses, chuckling humorlessly.
"Can we hug?"
Donna raises her gaze, surprised at his proposal, but whispers a strangled "always" and within seconds, he has his arms wrapped around her. The embrace feels familiar, like coming home on a stormy day or having a glass of your favorite wine, and it tears something through her body she can't quite name but can't get enough of. She clutches his shoulders with the same force, making sure he's not going anywhere, and he all but tightens his hold on her, none of them wanting this to end.
This is why they never touch, she thinks, because they never want to let go.
They stay like that for some minutes, maybe hours (Donna has lost track of time), until Harvey begins to move and she takes a step back, taking the hint.
"I'll bring you some comfy clothes, okay?"
Harvey disappears into his bedroom at the speed of light, also affected by the moment they just had, and Donna decides to distract herself by having a look at the spare room. The first and last time she saw it was when she helped Harvey to find a new apartment, but it doesn't surprise her to see it hasn't changed at all.
"Here," he enters the room with a pile of clothes that he drops in the bed in a not very ceremonious way. "These are my clothes, so maybe they won't fit you very well, but–"
"They'll be fine, Harvey," she cuts his rambling off with a reassuring grin and motions to the room. "It looks exactly how I remembered it."
"Well, you know, I don't have many guests over."
Harvey lifts his hand to scratch the back of his head but he whimpers, grimacing with pain.
"Harvey! You okay?"
"Yeah, I just touched the wound."
"Let me see," she doesn't wait for his answer, just approaches him and checks if the stitches are still in their place.
"I'm fine," he groans and turns to face her again once she's done.
She purses her lips, "be careful with the way you rest your head on the pillow tonight."
"Do you wanna lull me to sleep too?"
Donna rolls her eyes at his teasing as he makes his way out of the room.
"I'm serious, Harvey."
"Goodnight, Donna," his smirk is the last thing she sees before he closes the door.
Donna clicks her tongue and moves her head, but decides to give it up. She changes into the clothes he brought, some grey sweatpants and a matching crewneck sweatshirt that are, indeed, too loose for her. She stealthily brings the sleeve closer to her nose and breathes deeply, taking delight in the scent emanating from them as though it were a sin.
She glances at the bed, aware of the little sleep she'll get tonight. She barely had time to deal with everything she found out about Harvey today, the conversation they've just had still sinking in, and she's so worried something might happen to him she'd sleep with one eye open anyway, so Donna gets her phone and heads to the living room.
She takes her previous seat on the sofa, not bothering to turn on the lights. She grabs her phone but locks it right away, not really sure of what to do with it, so she gets up and wanders along the room, looking for some kind of entertainment. Donna goes through the bookcase on the corner just in case there can be something interesting there for her, but it's filled with boring law books she couldn't detest more.
Donna sits down again, deciding to try with her laptop, when the image of a poor reconstruction of one of Harvey's panic attacks flashes before her eyes, leaving her momentarily out of the game. She tries to stop it, but her brain is certainly not cooperating and starts to repeat it over and over, reminding her that she's the one that's causing them, even if Harvey or his therapist say otherwise.
She wonders how their first session went, what he told them, what they talked about. If he looked for a therapist by himself or if he asked Gretchen. Would've he asked her if she still was his secretary or would've he hid it from her too? If the accident hadn't happened, would Harvey eventually tell her or he'd just expect her to find out somehow? Would've she?
Attempting to keep her eyes open, Donna blinks a few times, but they are so dry from the lack of sleep she knows it's a lost fight even before it begins. She lies down on the couch, exhausted, the heaviness of today's events finally weighing upon her. She falls asleep so fast she barely registers Harvey wrapping her up in a blanket.
Donna wakes up to the smell of fresh coffee and the sounds of Harvey rummaging in the kitchen. She opens her eyes slowly, confused, trying to remember how she ended up in his living room when reality hits her all of a sudden. She sits straight swiftly and looks over her shoulder. She can't see him clearly since he has his back to her, but he's in one piece, so she releases the air she was holding and gets up, more calmly now.
"Hey."
"Oh hey," he greets her, "sorry I woke you up."
"Don't worry. Thank you for the blanket."
"Any time," he replies, mirroring her shy smile before returning his attention to the pan.
"So," she changes the subject to lighten the feeling of awkwardness that's taken over the room, "how is it today?"
Donna closes the gap between them and places her hands in the base of his head, keeping it in place. The contrast between her freezing fingers and the warmth that his body radiates sends a jolt of electricity through her body, making her recoil from him. She lowers her gaze to avoid his, but she's met with his bare legs and his too short and too tight boxers, and she doesn't have to look at his face to know he's already displaying that insufferable smirk of his, pleased with having caught her red-handed.
"Like what you see?"
Donna rolls her eyes, still not daring to glance up at him and walks to one of the stools, strategically making sure the kitchen counter separates them.
"It will leave a mark," she warns, ignoring his snickering.
"As you can see," he emphasizes the last word as he places a cup of coffee in front of her. "I'm fine. You can still make it to Connecticut if you leave now."
Donna casts an eye over him first, and then over the room. They've known each other for so long she can't be fooled – all these jokes and smirks are his way to hide how messed up he actually is, and his apartment is so plain and simple, so pulled out straight from a real estate agent's catalogue, that letting him spend Christmas in such a depressing place is not an option.
"Why don't you come with me?"
Harvey chokes on his coffee. "What? To your parents' house?"
"C'mon, it could be fun."
"Yeah, I don't think your dad would agree on that."
"He would," she affirms, not very convinced, "okay, my mom would. But Harvey," she rushes to add, "I told you last night I won't leave you alone. So either we stay here or we go there, but you're stuck with me, like it or not."
He presses his lips together and tilts his head, but says nothing.
"We could get a car," she offers, surprised to see he's actually considering it.
"Okay, okay. Fine," Harvey raises his hands as a sign of resignation but smiles at the sight of Donna clapping her hands frenetically like a child.
It takes them more than an hour to finally hit the road, their delay having nothing to do with Donna's excessive baggage, but with her insisting on driving the car Harvey booked for the trip and him refusing to give her the keys until she showed him her driver's license.
"Just because I never drive doesn't mean I don't know how," she winked at him as she honked the horn, making Harvey blush in the middle of the club.
Truth is that, despite his complaints about her driving technique, as she called it, Harvey is actually enjoying the trip. It's still a bit awkward at first, but his bad jokes and her sassy retorts quickly break the ice and they soon find themselves talking about their Christmas memories and family traditions.
Donna is about to share another story when her phone beeps and she asks Harvey to check it out.
"That's fantastic, sweetheart! Can't wait to have both of you here," he recites, doing an awful impersonation of her mom's voice that makes her laugh, "unfortunately there are no rooms left for Harvey, maybe you can share yours with him?"
A tense silence fills the car as he finishes reading the message now with his regular tone, their good mood flying out the window.
"I'll look for a hotel, maybe I can still make a reservation."
"No, Harvey. Stay at my parents', we'll figure something out."
"But Clara–"
"I don't care what my mom said," Donna retorts, raising her voice. She looks at her side when he doesn't answer and shakes her head briefly before returning her attention to the road, "I'm sorry, it's just– I'm sure this is Amy's doing."
"Wait, is your sister going to be there?" He asks, suppressing a smile.
"Yeah, and so is Avery, her daughter."
"Tell me about her."
"About Amy?" She waits for him to hum in affirmation to continue, "well, she's a bitch."
"Donna! Language!" He flashes him a teasing smile when she peers at him askance.
"I guess you were right, sweetheart," Harvey looks out the window, ignoring her face of annoyance. "This is gonna be fun."
Donna pulls in the car beside the house shortly after. Clara meets with them halfway to the front door and hugs them so tightly she leaves Harvey momentarily out of breath. Amy's greeting is too effusive as well – nobody misses the way she checks Harvey out, so shamelessly.
The atmosphere gets strained when it's Jim's turn to greet Harvey. They shake hands cordially and Harvey hands him the bottle of red wine he brought for dinner.
"Le Pupille," Jim reads out of the label of the bottle, "oh là là!"
"It's Italian, actually," Harvey blurts out. He didn't mean to sound arrogant or cocky, so he adds, "the guy at the store told me, I had no idea either."
Harvey can see the horror in Clara and Jim's eyes even before he finishes the sentence, his intent to fix his screw-up doing nothing but aggravating it. Donna pokes him with her elbow when he opens his mouth again, gritting a "stop talking" past her teeth.
At this very instant, a redhead little girl enters the room, running towards them.
"Aunt Donna!" She yells as Donna drops to her knees with her arms open, ready to wrap them around her.
"Hi, honey! I missed you so much!"
Donna begins to tickle her niece, who erupts into shrieks of laughter until she realizes Harvey's presence. Avery twists in Donna's embrace to wriggle out of it and lifts her eyes up to Harvey but doesn't say anything.
"Look, Avery. This is Harvey, my friend."
"Yeah, sure," she hears Amy muttering, huffing a laugh.
"Hi, Avery. It's so nice to meet you," Harvey rushes to answer, trying to avoid a fight between Donna and Amy.
"Hi," she answers tentatively. "Do you want to help me decorate the tree?"
"Of course."
The kid offers him a hand that Harvey quickly grabs, eager to get out of Jim's sight. Everyone follows them except Clara, who stays behind to help Donna settle in, although she suspects it is just an excuse to place her under interrogation about Harvey.
Once Clara seems satisfied with her explanations, Donna comes down to the porch to check on Harvey and Avery. She stands on the threshold, watching them adorning the redbud tree at the bottom of the little garden; that is, Avery running round and round the yard and Harvey carefully placing the Christmas ornaments where she tells him to.
"I gotta say, D," Amy says, standing right next to her, "he has these daddy vibes I love in a man."
"Stay away from him," Donna utters.
"Geez, Donna, I get it. He's yours, I won't meddle."
"That's never stopped you before," she replicates.
"Hey, girls, stop," Clara interrupts them from the kitchen, "let's have dinner in peace, okay?"
None of them says a word anymore, although it's not necessary judging by the murdering looks they give to each other, only interrupted when Avery demands their attention with a yell. They turn and find Harvey and her holding out their arms at each side of the tree in a 'tada' gesture and Donna can't decide who looks cuter.
Avery runs to her mother then and they rush inside, seeking refuge from the winter cold. Harvey himself blows some air on his hands to warm them up as he makes his way back to the porch.
"Sorry for the ambush."
"Don't worry, I enjoyed working with Avery. She's a little bossy, like her aunt," the comment earns Harvey a playful pat on his shoulder, "but she's nice."
"We may have a problem," Donna begins after a beat. "There's really only one room left. My parents have remodeled the house and, uh, I can sleep on the couch if you–"
"Donna, hey," Harvey cut her off. "It's okay. I mean, we're adults, right?"
"Sure, yes, we are."
"We can build a pillow wall between us."
"A pillow wall?" Donna arches an eyebrow at him, looking puzzled and amused at the same time.
Harvey is about to explain his idea when Clara announces dinner is ready. They get inside the house, still fooling around, and if he places his hand in the small of her back as they make their way to the dining room, she doesn't say anything.
As Clara required, they have a peaceful, actually pretty nice evening. Donna has been observing Harvey the whole night, watching him pulling funny faces to Avery across the table to make her giggle, charming her mother, giving her sister the right amount of attention without raising her hopes and treating her father with a lot of friendliness, so much that Jim even makes a joke about the red wine bottle he brought and they all laugh, although Donna suspects they're actually laughing at Harvey's red-flushed cheeks.
This is the old Harvey she knew, she realizes as she catches one of the many furtive glances he's been throwing at her, the Harvey that never ceases to leave her heart fluttering, not even now, after everything they've gone through. She didn't expect to be feeling like this, but she didn't expect to bring Harvey to her parents' house for Christmas either, except for those few occasions over the years in which she lowered her guard and let herself fantasize about what a relationship with him would be like. So she smiles back at him but turns her face, not willing to bury herself again in the thinking of what they could've been and never will.
They are now sitting on the bench in the porch, alone, drinking the mug of hot cocoa Clara prepared for them after Donna put Avery to sleep.
"So", Harvey breaks the silence, "your sister is not as bad as you pictured."
"You wanna sleep with her or what?"
"Are you jealous?" He answers back, teasingly.
"Me? God, no," she huffs a laugh at him. "Just take her as far as you can."
Harvey chuckles, shaking his head. He takes a sip before speaking again, "I'm not looking for anything right now."
"What about Esther?"
She's surprised to see Harvey hanging his head in what can only be shame and his lips curl up in a half smile.
"I don't even know why I did that."
To piss Louis off, she thinks, but decides not to say it.
"What about you?"
"Uh, no, nothing serious," Donna replies, hiding behind her own mug for no reason. She's not lying, though – she's been seeing this guy, Mitchell, for a while, but she suggested to keep it casual because she's not entirely sure he is what she needs right now (because what she needs has another name and another body and another soul, but she'll never admit that).
"I'm sorry Avery called you 'uncle'," her change of topic is so sudden she's met with a confused face so she clarifies, "earlier, when she asked you to help her make tea for her dolls or something like that? I tried to explain it to her but–"
"Don't worry, Donna. She's too young to understand."
His lips form a smile, and she has this distant thought that she must be too young to understand as well, but she just nods back at him.
"Besides, I have some years of experience in preparing tea parties for dolls, you know? Hailey named me 'best event planner' two years ago."
It doesn't escape her the way his face lights up at his own mention of his niece or the way his smile goes wider as he keeps talking about her and his nephew. She knows he loves those kids as if they were his own. She was there when they were born, or when Harvey spent days showing her pictures and videos of them after one of his rare, and brief, trips to Boston. She was there when the thought of having to sit through a birthday party with his mother across the room was stronger than his wish to see them blowing up the candles of their cake, so she watched him give Marcus a poor excuse for his absence, settling for a five minutes call.
That's why Donna knows that being away from his family is killing him, no matter how many years go by or how much he tries to keep that 'caring makes you weak' masquerade. He must be having the same thought, she thinks, because his smile is now sad and he's not looking her in the eye anymore.
"Harvey," she starts with that doubting voice she uses every time she brings his family up, "what happened with Marcus?"
His face falls a little but he remains quiet. Donna waits for him for a while, and right when she's starting to believe he won't talk about it, she sees him opening his mouth.
"He found out you left me," he says, his voice now low and hoarse. "That you weren't my secretary anymore. And he basically said that I deserved it, that 'it was about time' and that 'you should be ashamed you lost the only good thing you had'," he says, forming quotation marks in the air with his fingers.
Donna takes a deep breath, not really sure of what to say for the umpteenth time in the last twenty-four hours.
"That's–," she stumbles, "I'm pretty sure he didn't mean it."
"I know."
"Then why are you mad at him?"
"Because he was right."
They eye each other briefly before he tears his gaze away from her again, but she doesn't react. His words, the confirmation of what she's always suspected but never dared to even think about, leave her paralyzed, and the only proof she has that time hasn't stopped is her heart hammering in her chest. He truly believes he deserves it – being abandoned, the loneliness, the hopelessness. He doesn't deserve to love or to be loved, as if he were forbidden from experiencing such a great, unique treasure of life. All he can get is pain, and pain is all he will accept.
"Listen, Harvey," she utters, softly. "There's something I've been wanting to say for a while and I know you don't want to hear it, but you have to. You have to make peace with your mother."
Harvey spins on his seat, visibly shaken, as if she had just insulted him.
"I've been watching you relying on us – Mike, Jessica, me, for so long I can't take it anymore," she continues. "We love you, and we will always be there for you, but you have a family out there, and as much as you try, we'll never replace them because we can't."
He shakes his head stubbornly, his gaze still fixated on the floor.
"Harvey," she reaches for the crook of his arm and squeezes lightly, "you are worthy. I know you think you don't, but you do. You're a good man and you deserve every single good thing life might bring you, but if you don't accept that, if you don't let all those things in, you'll lose them. You'll just keep hurting everyone around you and pushing them away."
Donna puts a little more pressure in her hold on him to make him look at her before adding, "and in order to do that, you have to forgive your mother. Let her explain why she did it. Accept her mistake so you both can finally move on."
She scans his posture. His elbows are resting on his knees and his body is turned in her direction so his leg is brushing hers, so much she can feel his warmth through the fabric. His lips are pursed but he looks calm, just quietly staring at her with the mug still in his hand, and she has this odd feeling of having lived through this situation before.
"Is that why you left?" He eventually asks, although he seems to know the answer already.
She knows it's not exactly why she did it, that it's only a tiny little part of it, but it is the best she can offer for now so she gives him an ambiguous answer, "I couldn't wait forever."
He nods slowly, swallowing down a lump, his eyes never leaving hers. There she sees it, his doubt, his need for answers but also not wanting to make her leave again. He closes his mouth only to open it again and Donna prepares herself for what she knows is coming.
"Do you still love me?"
"I just said I do."
Harvey tilts his head, pressing his lips together, silently telling her that he knows that she knows that's not what he meant and his gesture almost makes her laugh.
And then it hits her.
They've been here before. Perhaps they never left, for it feels like time hasn't passed at all, as if they were still sitting on the couch of her living room all those months ago and she hadn't lost every ounce of hope yet. Maybe it's the way the colored lights of the porch reflect on his face, or the wine he brought that's gone straight to her head, but exactly as it occurred in that moment, she'd do anything right now – ask for forgiveness, beg him to let her come back, turn her whole life upside down again if that's what he needs to stop feeling that way. Anything, for him.
"Do you?" She whispers, in a futile attempt not to lose the last shred of common sense she has left.
He doesn't back out at her retort. He doesn't tear his eyes away, doesn't turn, doesn't grab his coat and leave. He just stays there, staring back at her with those beautiful, big brown eyes she once fell in love with. They drop to her lips as he licks his own determinedly, preparing them for her arrival. This is it, she thinks, her breath hitching in anticipation.
Her body is already leaning in when the sound of the door being cracked open startles them.
"Who wants to spice things up?"
Amy appears beside them shaking a bottle of vodka, apparently oblivious to the moment she just interrupted.
She doesn't get any response, though. Harvey just keeps looking at Donna but she looks down, ashamed. She clears her throat and stands up to leave, so quickly she doesn't give him a chance to stop her.
Donna tries to hold back the tears all the way to their room, pressing her lips together to suppress all the rage and anger boiling up inside her. The last time something like this occurred it almost destroyed them and yet, she let it happen again. This is not even about Harvey, she thinks as she gets in the bed, this is about her falling back into the same patterns after promising herself she wouldn't.
She's still beating herself up about it when Harvey opens the door about an hour later. She closes her eyes by reflex, pretending to be asleep, but she hears steps moving closer to her side of the bed so she knows he's not buying it.
"If you're here to ask me for my permission to sleep with my sister, you have it," she says when she senses the mattress dipping under his weight as he sits on the edge.
"You kidding me? I ran away as soon as I could," he jokes but all he gets is silence. "She told me some pretty interesting things about you, though."
Harvey's intent to get her attention fails again so he rubs her side through the heavy duvet, which finally makes her look at him.
"Hey," he all but mouths, giving her a shy grin, "I've been thinking about what you said and, uh, you're right. I'll go to Boston to see my mom, because I think it's time to stop being an idiot and depriving myself of what I've always wanted."
Donna remains silent, staring at him in disbelief, and her gesture breaks him a little. As though to reaffirm his words, he moves his hand to her face to push some strands of red hair away, brushing her cheek in the process ever so softly he doubts she has even felt it. But it seems like she has, judging by the way her face frowns, fully comprehending his words, as she sits up straight.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I love you, Donna. I've loved you since the day I met you. It's always been you, now I know. And I also know that I have no right to ask you and that I've caused you so much pain and, believe me, I'll never forgive myself for that, but if you still love me, I'd like to try. With you."
Her eyes glisten in the moonlight as she looks intently at him, trying to find something that could tell her that he's not lying, that this time he actually means it and he's not just saying it out of pity.
"Harvey..."
"I'm not going anywhere," he reassures her with an equally reedy voice.
Everything happens so fast then. His lips, or hers, she's not sure, crash down on hers in a tender kiss that quickly turns into a passionate one, his hand on his neck pulling her closer as she takes his clothes off and before she knows, he's inside her, both of them sighing against each other's mouths.
Their kisses, their caresses, the way they hold onto each other – everything feels so right, so powerful they keep craving each other, as if they had been lucky enough to taste the forbidden fruit and they couldn't get enough of it, and she tries to remember why they never touch but none of the reasons make sense anymore.
He looks at her with awe and adoration as she makes him hers, and she thinks that she's never been happier than she is right now. He has the same thought, he tells her himself, or maybe it was just her name hanging from his lips like a prayer.
They cry too. They wipe away each other's tears between "I'm sorry I hurt you's" and "please don't ever hide anything from me again's" and "I love you's" until they fall asleep in each other's arms, just for a while, but enough to make them feel it again, that something she hasn't been able to name not for a day but for a decade and that she can see so clearly now – love, so pure and so warm it seeps through their bodies like the dew falling in the morning.
Donna wakes up to the sunlight slipping through the curtains. She stirs up a little but soon she comes to a halt when she realizes that half her body isn't resting in the mattress but in another body that she identifies as the source of the almost feverish heat that surrounds her.
With her eyes still closed, her mind drifts to images and sounds from the previous night and she freezes. It's Harvey who is next to her. It's Harvey who told her he loved her and that he wasn't going anywhere and he sounded serious, but what if he changed his mind?
"I can hear you thinking," he whispers huskily.
She considers to ignore him and stretch this moment to the maximum, but the brush of his fingers in the small of her back is tickling her and her lips curl up in a wide smile, her eyelids flickering open.
"Morning, beautiful."
She knew he was handsome, but this version of him leaves her out of breath. His hair is disheveled and his eyes are small from the lack of sleep, but he has that silly, boyish smile in his face that makes her heart sing.
"Morning," she replies, her voice trembling under his touch.
He arches an eyebrow at her, his grin going from sheepish to smug as he finally realizes it's his touch that's making her shiver and he quickens his motion until her smiling face breaks into a laugh and he joins her.
His little torture ends with a bittersweet kiss as she remembers her earlier concerns and she pulls away, her expression changing.
"You're here," she states, and for a moment the obviousness confuses him until he gets it and his face softens.
"I am. I said I won't leave," he leans in to brush her nose with the tip of his and croons, repeating her own words, "you're stuck with me forever."
Donna rolls her eyes playfully and her head resumes its position in his chest, but she hears him chuckling so she looks back at him again, resting her chin on it instead.
"What?"
"I can't believe I had sex with you in the same bed you lost–"
"Stop right there! Did Amy tell you that?"
"I told you we had an interesting conversation about you, remember? And it made me realize many things."
"Oh, yeah?"
Donna bites her bottom lip, whatever embarrassing story her sister might have told him long forgotten.
"Yes. For example, that everything I've ever needed was right in front of me."
"And what else?" She speaks very softly as she gets a lump in her throat.
"That I still haven't thanked you for everything you've done for me, not only in the last couple of days, but in these twelve years."
He spins them around so she's lying on her back and he's on top of her, looking like the cat that ate the canary, or rather, like the cat that's about to eat it.
"I should do something about that, don't you think?"
He doesn't waste any time to slide down her body and throws her one last smirk before disappearing under the sheets, her giggling quickly turning into a low moan.
Donna is going to Boston with Harvey. He asked her while Avery was unwrapping the presents that Santa had left for her under the redbud and she said yes immediately. None of her family members seemed surprised when Donna told them they were leaving earlier than expected though, Clara even winked at her as they waved them goodbye from the car shortly after.
"Oh my God," she whispers, "I think my mom knows."
"Um, yes, Donna, I'm pretty sure she knows," Harvey looks at her from the driver seat and chuckles at her frown, "she might have confessed to me that she had another room for me, but Amy and her decided not to tell us."
"What? When?"
"When you were packing, I think? She also told me she was very proud of having such a successful, handsome and young son-in-law."
"Young?" She arches an eyebrow, giving him a taste of their own medicine.
They burst into laughter and keep teasing each other until they fall in a comfortable silence. Donna looks out the window, replaying the last forty-eight hours as she runs her fingers over the earrings Harvey left under the tree for her.
"I can't believe we owe this," she motions between them, "to my sister."
"Well, she actually told me all those things only to cause trouble between us," he grabs her hand and raises it to his lips to kiss her knuckles, "so yeah, she's still a bitch."
Donna can't help but crack a smile that he quickly mirrors as he places their interlaced hands over the gear stick, caressing her skin with her thumb. She stares at him for a while in silence, just watching him drive, and she thinks that yes, being stuck with him forever is a great plan.