Donna is tired. She is so exhausted, but her mind keeps spinning. All her fears, and the anxiety that keeps pressing on her, but the conversation with Harvey has also thrown her off balance. She is so unsure of herself and what she is feeling and thinking that she is ready to believe he is right. Even though the idea of staying home all day makes her chest feel tight.
Saturday afternoon Donna curls up against Harvey as he watches a baseball game on television. She tries her hardest to stay awake, because despite the broken night and the lingering exhaustion from the panic attack, she wants to sleep less during the day. She wants to keep a regular day-night rhythm and taking naps during the day is not going to help with that. So she is hard on herself and tries to engage with Harvey, but no matter how animated he tells her about the game, she feels her eyelids slowly closing and sleep washing over her.
When Donna wakes up, she is not lying against Harvey's chest anymore. A blanket is draped carefully over her body and her head is resting on a pillow. It's dark outside, but the room is illuminated by the bright glow from the lamps over the kitchen table. She sits up, and then makes her way over to Harvey, who was so engrossed in his work that he didn't even notice her movements. He isn't aware of her at all until she pulls back the chair next to him and lowers herself onto it. Her hand travels up his arm and snakes to the back of his neck, fingers toying with the small hairs there.
"You look better," Harvey remarks, the few hours of sleep making her eyes a little brighter and her shoulders a little less tense. Her hand moves towards his jaw, brushing over his stubble, "you look tired," she replies, her eyes moving towards his laptop, which he quickly shuts. Immediately, her eyes flicker back to his face, "what are you working on?" She asks, the slight concern in her voice overshadowed by a fearful tremble.
Harvey sighs, his hand coming up to cover Donna's, giving it a soft squeeze. He debates lying, making something up to comfort her, but he knows that even in her current state she will look right through him. "Hawkins," he admits. Her face falls, and so does the hand that was resting against his cheek. He notices her chest starting to rise and fall exponentially faster and her eyes starting to lose focus. Quickly, he takes his face in between his hands, "hey, hey, Donna, hear me out," he coaxes her out of her own head. She nods, but her bottom lip trembles.
"Okay, listen," Harvey starts, "when… while… We kept working, because we needed a back up strategy, in case the police couldn't find you…" He swallows, "and we've got a whole lot. After we got you back, we thought it would be over. That they had enough to arrest Hawkins…" He takes a deep breath, seeing Donna nod almost mechanically, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. He catches her eye, making sure she is listening before continuing, "but the men who held you is a loyal accomplice apparently, because he is not talking and they can't do a goddamned thing to Hawkins except keep a close eyes on him. So we're helping the police with finding evidence to bring this bastard down." He tells her, jaw firmed.
Donna nods again, eyes now squeezed shut, but tears escaping anyway. "I thought he was locked up…" She breathes. It was the only reason she is still somewhat standing instead of crumbling to the ground and never getting back up again. She feels Harvey grab her hands and squeezing softly, but she can't bring herself to open her eyes. "I-I-I… Please don't, Harvey… I can't, you-we… Please," she is unable to form a coherent sentence, her thoughts too jumbled. There is only one clear thought, and after a short pause she voices it, "I'm scared."
Both of them are quiet for a few moments, Donna's words heavy in the air around them. Then Harvey squeezes her hands again, waiting for her eyes to open again. When she finally looks at him again, he leans forward a little, "listen to me, okay?" His voice is stern, but his eyes warm and his face open. She exhales slowly, then nods. "Hawkins is under surveillance. So he can't do shit. The firm is under surveillance too. For protection. And so are our place and Mike and Rachel's. It works. Not a single thing has happened. No threats anymore. We're safe. And Rachel and Mike and I… We're making progress. We're so close. It's almost over, Donna, I promise."
Harvey's words offer Donna enough comfort to let the subject go for now. They have a relatively peaceful evening, followed by a night that is restless – but not more restless than usual. On Sunday, Donna is more anxious than before, Hawkins being free making fear coil in her abdomen. On Monday the tension seems to rise even higher, but neither of them can pinpoint whether it is fear or maybe the fact that she has followed Harvey's advice to stay home from work.
However, the tension on Monday is nothing compared to Tuesday morning. Donna's therapy appointment isn't until eleven fifteen, but she is wide awake at just a little past six. She stays in bed for as long as she can, not wanting to disturb Harvey. She can see how her broken nights are exhausting him too. But after an hour she can't stay still anymore. So she unwraps herself from Harvey's embrace and tries to tell him to go back to sleep, but when she gets out of the shower he is out of bed and she is greeted by the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen.
After coffee and poking at the toast Harvey made for breakfast, Donna tries to dressed. Tries being the keyword; after putting on five dresses, two pairs of jeans, six blouses, one sweater and a jumpsuit – and taking them all off again – Harvey takes her by the shoulders and sits her down on the bed. Then he sits next to her, rubbing his hand over her bare back. She is starting to tremble, but not from the cold. Her fingers are fiddling nervously, nails scratching over polish that she freshly applied last night. She keeps looking at her hands, even when she eventually opens her mouth, "I feel so… powerless. Without control. Vulnerable. I need… I need…" She shrugs, unsure of what she actually needs. His arm wraps around her shoulders, pulling her a little closer. "You need armor." He softly says, finishing her sentence. She turns her head, looking at him and giving him a little nod.
At ten to eleven, Donna and Harvey are sitting in a waiting room. To an outsider, Donna might seem calm and composed; hair and makeup flawlessly done and wearing tight black jeans with a silky white blouse, shiny nude heels on her feet. But Harvey notices the soft tapping of her feet on the cream-colored carpet, the way her eyes are darting to the room but not really taking in any of the pastel paintings on the wall, and the death grip she has on his hand.
When Donna is called into the room by a woman with dark curls and a kind face, she hesitates. She takes a breath and leans forward, but she doesn't actually stand until Harvey does and pulls her up. He gives her hand a squeeze and then gently pries her fingers loose. She gives him one last terrified stare, but then she walks towards her therapist. Harvey watches her go with a tight feeling in his chest. He hates seeing her so vulnerable and scared, but this will be good – or at least he hopes so.
Harvey goes grocery shopping and makes a few calls, looking at the clock every five minutes as he does so. He is back in the waiting room before Donna's hour is over, and it turns out that her therapist doesn't manage her time strictly because at twelve fifteen the door is still closed.
As soon as the door – finally – opens, Harvey is on his feet. Donna is walked out by her therapist, who has a hand on her arm and softly squeezes before letting go with a soft smile and a nod. Then Donna walks towards him. Her face is pale – almost as white as her blouse – and her makeup is smudged, eyes red and puffy. Her lips are in a tight line, her chin wobbling slightly, but she forces the corners of her mouth up in a weak smile before walking into his open arms and burying her face into the crook of his neck.
Harvey doesn't ask how it was. He doesn't particularly like thinking back to his own days of therapy, but the thing he remembers most is that he usually needed a little time to digest what happened. So he holds Donna until she pulls away and then he kisses her forehead and leads her back to the car, his hand on the small of her back. In the car, he lets his hand rest on her thigh. As long as she doesn't talk, he needs to at least be able to make physical contact. And based on the way she has laced her fingers in between his and squeezes tight, she needs that too.
Donna is quiet all the way home. And she stays quiet while settling herself on the couch and watching Harvey as he makes tea before sitting down next to her. In fact, she stays quiet for an hour after that, staring blankly ahead of her. She stays quiet until her phone rings, ripping her out of her thoughts. Rachel. She answers, because after the morning she had the comfort of her husband is not enough, she needs her best friend too.
Harvey looks up when Donna's phone rings, and he raises his eyebrows slightly when she answers. He can't help but be a little hurt that he isn't the first one to talk to, even though he knows that the thought is irrational. But then she reaches for him, and he moves closer, wrapping an arm around her. She curls into him and puts Rachel on speaker, talking to both of them at the same time. She tells them about her therapist – Conny – who put her at ease but then asked her to talk about what happened, and how hard that was. How much of the fear and pain that brought up. How emotional it was, but how safe Conny made her feel. And how emotionally drained she feels now.
While Donna talks, Harvey runs his fingers through her hair, soothing her. Her voice trembles and occasionally breaks, but she is talking. Open and honest. He leans down to press a kiss into her hair, and she tilts her face up, shooting him a weak smile. "I'm proud of you," he whispers. "Me too," Rachel's voice echoes from the phone, "and if there's anything I can do… We-Mike and I – can do, please let us know." She continues, pausing a second before voicing an idea she just had, "you can have dinner at our place tonight? Only if you want, no pressure, but-" "Yes," Donna replies.
After the phone call has ended, Harvey curiously looks at Donna. "You sure you up for dinner over at their place?" He asks. Over the past two days he has only seen her afraid and anxious and now utterly exhausted. But there's something in her hazel eyes, a little spark at the thought of going over to their friends'. She just nods at him. "Okay," he whispers, leaning in to kiss her softly. After he breaks the kiss, she rests her head against his shoulder. She doesn't have the words to explain right now. But going over to Mike and Rachel's for dinner feels safe and warm and comforting and that is exactly what she needs right now.