W: M-rated content: panic attacks.
"I can't sleep."
Harvey has never been a heavy sleeper. He's always up before eight in the morning, even on weekends, no matter how late he went to bed the night before and he never sleeps more than seven hours – that would be a waste of time. However, one thing is getting little sleep and another is not getting any at all. He's learnt the difference the hard way. Ever since she left, there hasn't been a single night he's got to sleep more than a couple of hours. First, because she was gone, and then, because Mike got arrested and, suddenly, everything and everyone he knows, including himself, was in jeopardy.
It is on one of those agonizing, excruciatingly long sleepless nights when he says it out loud for the first time. 'I can't sleep.' It quickly becomes a habit. Everything he feels or thinks, whether he's sad, tired, hungry, or he's got into his head that he's going to die because he just had the fifth panic attack in less than a week and nothing he does seem to be enough to make them stop, everything, he speaks about it, as if there were someone else in the room. There never is. He's used to that too.
It comes as no surprise either that after some time Harvey finds himself seeking comfort in the memory of her. It's easy though – her presence still fills the empty space like the first day. It's so real he can almost see her, moving around the kitchen as he makes dinner, fixing his tie in the morning, or, like right now, lying awake in his bed.
"Talk to me."
Her voice. It is beyond doubt his favorite thing to imagine. Her laugh, her little whine when he leaves the shower too soon, her shouted 'how does it feel to be on the receiving end for once?', her whispered 'I love you' right before falling asleep. Every possible tone or hint in her voice, he has already pictured it. That's why he instantly notices her voice sounds slightly different now, not that perfect, more natural, more… Real.
Her big, hazel eyes are the first thing he sees when he opens his own. The room is entirely dark except for the moderate amount of moonlight flooding through the window, enough for him to get a glimpse of the closed door behind her, the color of the wall, the soft touch of her sheets. He's wearing his clothes, but this is not his apartment. This is hers, her bedroom, her pillow. Donna. In the flesh.
Images, words, memories of all kinds spin in his head like a merry-go, forming a sick summary of everything that's occurred since the last time he was here until barely an hour ago, when he confessed that he was considering turning himself in as he desperately gulped down the scotch she fixed him, and she asked him to stay over as she desperately dropped in his hands some of the clothes he had forgotten were still in her dresser.
Harvey blinks once, twice, trying to conceal his confusion, although he supposes she's already noticed it judging by the half smile she gives him, but she doesn't say anything.
"What do you wanna talk about?"
"I don't know."
Some topics do come into his mind, but he decides to start with something easy. "You still haven't told me what it is like to work for Louis."
"You sure you wanna talk about that?"
"Yeah, I'm curious to know what kind of boss he is."
She raises an eyebrow. "You want me to say you're better than him, right?"
"No, I already know that."
Donna gives him an eyeroll before rolling over her back, her gaze instantly finding that little spot in her ceiling she's spent so many nights looking at, also unable to sleep.
Even though it was her decision to break up with Harvey and move to Louis' desk, it wasn't exactly a bed of roses. It took her four days and a sharp stomach ache to realize she hadn't eaten a proper meal since the last dinner they had at her place. Every time she went to the kitchen, memories of that night hit her with all their might, threatening to do away with the little progress she had made that day, so she would just run back to the living room and order something from the nearest restaurant.
She still considered herself a strong, independent woman. She had never needed anything or anyone to survive, not at home and definitely not at work, but then she'd run out of clean glasses because she had forgotten to turn on the dishwasher the night before (it was Harvey who always took care of that before going to work), or she'd noticed that her shampoo bottle was empty when she was already halfway through her shower, left with no other choice but to cross the bathroom, still wet, to get a new one from the cabinet (it was Harvey who always made sure there was enough of it because he loved its smell), and it might sound stupid, but those little details made her feel absolutely useless.
It was in that moment, as she dialed some restaurant's number the night before her first day as Louis' secretary, when she realized that the ghost of Harvey had turned her into a stranger in her own home, and it was then when she decided it was time to change that. She forced herself to put on a mask that could help her feign normalcy and went back to the kitchen to prepare her own meal.
She wore it the next day, and the next one, and the next one, and it surprisingly worked. Nobody asked her about what happened with Harvey and nobody asked her if she was okay. She looked okay, and that was all that mattered. She still cried when she arrived home, the loneliness instantly looming over her as soon as she set foot in it, and she still spent half the night replaying whatever slight she had perceived from Harvey that day, but little by little she felt the sadness and the longing for what they had subside until she couldn't recognize any difference between her facade and her true self anymore.
Nevertheless, and despite at another time she'd consider telling him the truth about how her first days at Louis' desk really were, she discards the thought, for the situation is far from ideal and he has enough on his plate as it is (they all do), and just gets him back with another joke, "it actually took me a while to get used to his work method, you know? I'd been working with someone so self-absorbed and arrogant that I'd forgotten that's not the norm."
Donna hears more than see the way his eyes crinkling as he laughs at her answer. She suspects it's been a long time since the last time he did. A familiar ache settles in her heart, but, at the same time, the thought also brings her an odd feeling of serenity, the reassurance that she still knows a few things about him.
"His gifts weren't as good as yours though, I gotta give you that."
"I bet they weren't as expensive as mine."
"Well, that too," she concedes, "but also because I went from buying my own gifts to having to depend on his questionable taste."
"If I would've let him pay your salary, I'm sure you wouldn't be saying that."
Although it was supposed to be a joke, there's a hint of resentment in his voice impossible not to pick up and Donna gives a sigh of resignation.
"Come on, Donna," he insists, "you have to admit that what he did with my compensation was a dirty move."
"So was what you did with mine!"
Harvey holds her gaze for a second before rolling over his back as well.
"You're right, sorry," he says after a beat.
Donna shakes her head. "So are you. He shouldn't have done that. But I was working for him and… I had to be loyal."
She turns her head to the side just in time to see him nodding. She wonders what his reaction would be if he knew she wasn't that loyal after all and actually gave Louis an ultimatum only two months after starting working for him. It'd definitely give his ego a boost, she's sure of that.
"Why did you do it?" She asks instead. "Sharing your earnings with me?"
"Well, at first it was the only way you could come to the firm with me," he replies, his eyes still fixed in the ceiling. "And then, the salary of a junior partner's secretary seemed so low I thought you deserved more."
"Wait, what do you mean 'it was the only way'? You told me you had convinced Jessica to hire me."
Harvey looks back at her. "Associates don't have secretaries."
Her eyes bulge with surprise as she digests the brand new information. She remembers the moment she saw her first payslip as if it were yesterday. She had never seen, let alone earned, that amount of money before, and it was nothing compared with the money she's making nowadays. 'Next dinner is on you,' Harvey joked when he caught her looking at the piece of paper, completely awestruck, but he never let her pay.
His chuckle snaps her out of her daze. "Does it really surprise you that I've been paying a part of your income all these years when I spent all my savings on our first date?"
"What?"
"How do you think I paid for my suit, the flowers, the restaurant…?"
"No way!" She laughs. "And I thought you were some kind of gangster!"
Her confession makes him snort, which only makes Donna guffaw and Harvey watches her, a huge grin splitting his face as well.
"Why did you never tell me?"
"Would you have accepted it?" He raises an eyebrow at her, but she all but looks down. "Exactly."
He observes her expression for a moment before speaking again, "why were you so mad when you found out?"
"Because of the way you used it against Louis and me." His confused face annoys Donna, but she does her best not to read more into it. "You were sending me a message, that I had left you, the perfect boss who doesn't mind sharing his money with his secretary, for a selfish one."
"Wasn't that true?"
"Well, you weren't exactly the perfect former boss when I left your desk," she fires back, matching his defiant tone.
"What do you mean?"
"Are you really asking me that?" Donna instinctively recoils, his fake ignorance putting her on the back foot. "What about treating me like shit for over a month, give me back the can opener to remind me that I was never gonna have with Louis what we had and undermining my decision, over and over, as if I weren't allowed to have my own ideas and make my own choices?"
He's now the one that remains silent and she takes it as a sign to continue, "you didn't even believe that I was truly leaving, you just left and went home and didn't even bother to try talk with me about what was going on, just like you had done a few nights before right out there," she points to the door, "and the next day you were giving me orders like nothing happened."
She's already cursing herself before finishing the sentence. It wasn't her intention to lose her calm like this, but she didn't expect to see Harvey playing dumb either, not with her and not about this. She clenches her teeth in fury but also in regret, mentally counting to ten in an attempt to calm herself down.
"You're right," his low voice, barely above a whisper, catches her attention, "just like you were right, that night at my office, when you accused me of doing exactly that. I really believed it was something temporary, you know? That you were gonna change your mind and you'd be back in two, three weeks."
"I know."
He turns to his side abruptly, surprised by her answer. "You do?"
"Harvey, you all but kicked me out when I offered you to stay two more weeks at your desk to help you find a new secretary."
She recognizes an expression of remorse and pain flashing behind his eyes. "I'm sorry, Donna. I really am. For treating you the way I did, for making you feel like that… I couldn't manage what had happened. I felt so… Alone, like you had abandoned me."
"I didn't abandon you."
"I know, and it's no excuse, but…," Harvey averts his eyes again and closes them briefly, as if a bad memory had come to his mind. "You had just ended our relationship and it wasn't a normal break up because I couldn't run away or just never hear from you again. I had to sit there and watch you working for somebody else and be nice with somebody else while we couldn't even look at each other in the eye."
"It wasn't easy for me either, Harvey," she mutters, also looking away. She does want him to know that. Just because he was hurting, it didn't mean she wasn't. She was. At least, as much as he was. She's certain he knows, but she wishes she could tell him all about it – the pain, the humiliation, the emptiness, the uselessness of it all.
She feels more than sees the way he stares at her, analyzing her features, probably wondering if he should say or do something. He doesn't seem to find the answer though, because just a few seconds later, he sighs and moves away, resuming his previous position. She can't blame him though – she can't find it either.
—
They've been silent for a while, she estimates ten or twelve minutes, but Donna is still awake. She hasn't even tried to sleep – her mind keeps replaying their last conversation and the one they had earlier in her living room and pretty much every single one they had since she left him standing in his office all those months ago, over and over, like some kind of perverse torture.
She can tell he's not asleep either, for his breathing is not steady and he's lying too still on his side of the bed, and yet, she whispers his name first, just to make sure he still wants to talk.
"Harvey."
"Mm-hmm."
"Why did you say it was your fault? When we were talking about Mike and the trial, why did you say that?"
Harvey presses his lips together. He's not sure if speaking about this is a good idea, but neither was talking about Louis and he was the one who brought that up, so there's no turning back now.
"Because it's the truth. All of this, it's on me, and just because I've never said it out loud doesn't mean I'm not aware of it or that I haven't thought it over," he makes the mistake of staring back at her, giving her the chance to read him properly. She then tilts her head in a very familiar way, unspokenly asking him not to leave anything out, "and I might run into Louis in the lobby before I came here. He was angry and basically blamed me for putting all of you at risk and I guess that made me react."
"Did you admit anything?"
Harvey furrows his brow. "Wh– why do you ask me that?"
"Did you?" Donna insists, noticeably worried.
"I didn't," he reassures her, starting to see what she's implying. "Do you know something I don't?"
"Harvey–"
"Don't 'Harvey' me."
She heaves a sigh. "I think that Louis intentionally provoked you because he wanted to record you saying something you shouldn't."
His initial reaction is to clench his hands into a fist, his nostrils flaring in anger, but her words and the way she keeps avoiding his gaze helps him put two and two together, Louis' cheek quickly forgotten.
"Is that how you found out about Dr. Agard and…?" He stops abruptly, realizing she might not know why he goes to therapy.
"And the panic attacks, yes."
Donna shuts her eyes close as she recalls that night. She waited for Louis to leave his office to sneak in, making a beeline to the dictaphone, confident it would give her the answer neither Harvey nor Louis had wanted to give to a simple question – what had Louis said in their last fight that made Harvey physically attack him. Instead, she heard four words she would never have expected to hear in the same sentence, let alone in his own voice: Harvey, panic attacks, therapy.
She pressed pause immediately, refusing to believe what she just heard, but it was quite late for that. She felt the walls of the office closing in on her, asphyxiating her, to the point she couldn't breathe anymore. A part of her wondered if this is how Harvey felt every time he had a panic attack. A smaller part of her thought she deserved it. Nothing of this would've happened if she hadn't left – the fight, the therapy, his… issues. She didn't know yet, but she already had the suspicion she was the cause of it all. And on top of that, Louis got him on tape and was ready to use it against him, and she should've known better because she's fucking Donna and she always anticipates everything but didn't see this coming and…
Just like she did that night, Donna draws in a sharp breath, hoping he didn't get to see the tear rolling down her cheek.
"I'm sorry, Harvey. I shouldn't have stuck my nose into your… personal life, but you had hit Louis in your office and none of you would tell me what had happened and–"
"Donna, hey. It doesn't matter. You know I've never kept anything from you."
"You kept this from me. And I know I have no right but…," her voice threatens to catch, so she clears her throat before continuing, "I thought of calling you, you know? When I found out, the next day… I wanted, needed, to talk with you, know what was going on, let you know that you could count on me, as always."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because I knew you, and I knew that if you not only hadn't told me but also tried to hide it from me it was because in some way you were ashamed, and bringing it up would only have made you grow apart."
"That's not–," he gives his head a slight shake, sighing loudly, "I was ashamed. And yes, that does sound like something I would do. I'm an idiot, you know that," she gives a hint of a smile at his admission that he's fast to mirror.
"We can talk now if you want."
"We don't have to–"
"Donna, please," he insists, nodding in reassurance.
She briefly considers whether this is the right time to have this conversation, but, eventually, she reaches for her bedside lamp to turn it on as she sits up and waits for him to do the same before asking, "when did they start?"
Harvey looks down briefly. Thanks to therapy, he's now aware that he had already felt some symptoms before, but the first one… He remembers it as if it were yesterday. He found himself struggling to breathe when Donna announced she was leaving him, but it was her next and last words what actually triggered the panic attack – 'I love you, Harvey.' His heart began racing violently, he could almost hear it pounding in his ears, as his chest throbbed with a kind of pain he had never felt.
He tried to focus on her, but she just kept getting further and further away until she was nothing more than a vague figure at the end of the hallway. He loosened his tie, trying to catch some air, noticing for the first time the numbness of his limbs. I can't die here, he kept saying to himself, over and over. He closed his eyes, the dizziness making it impossible to keep them open anymore, and, blindly, grabbed his phone and tried to dial 911 unsuccessfully. I can't fucking die here. It was then when he started to feel the symptoms subside and sat on the floor, forcing himself to pull together. He'd never been an emotional person, but as he wiped the sweat off his forehead, he suspected this wasn't what love was supposed to feel like.
"When you left," he finally replies, sparing her the thorny details.
He watches her leaning back against the headboard with a thud, mouth agape. "When did you have the last one?"
"Donna," he warns her, fully aware of where she's going.
"Just tell me."
"Shortly after you came back."
Donna nods slowly as she processes his words, facing away.
"It wasn't your fault."
"Yes, but…," she quavers, "I should've–"
"No, Donna. Stop," he turns his body in her direction. "Listen to me, I know what you're doing. Don't take responsibility for this."
She doesn't say anything, just shakes her head and keeps looking away, clearly not buying it. Impulsively, he moves his hand to squeeze her shoulder but drops it before touching her. It's nothing he hasn't done before, but now it could be inappropriate and he doesn't want to upset her. A chill runs through him at the thought.
"Actually, my therapist thinks that what really unleashed them was Lily," he offers instead.
His attempt to draw her attention seems to work, because Donna swivels around to look at him, visibly astonished, "she knows about Lily?"
"I tried to avoid talking about her at all costs, believe me, but I had no choice."
Her mouth tightens into a thin line in understanding. "What did you tell her?"
"Nothing I haven't told you before."
"And what did she say?"
"Nothing you haven't said before."
Her lips curl into a sympathetic smile that he returns, but doesn't reach his eyes. Glancing down at his fingers fidgeting with the sheets, he utters, "I don't really wanna talk about her. Not tonight."
"Of course," she studies his expression, making a mental note to consider bringing this matter up in the future, and says, "I'm gonna go get some water, you want some?"
"Yeah, I'll go."
Harvey vanishes from sight in the twinkling of an eye.
Donna can't help the relieved sigh that escapes her mouth when she hears footsteps getting closer to the room. She's been listening closely to each noise he made as he moved around the apartment with her heart in her mouth, afraid he might use the opportunity to leave. It's not something he would do, but, at this point, she's not willing to take any risk.
He has taken his time in the kitchen though, and, as much as she was tempted to go look for him, she appreciated having these few minutes alone to take in everything she's learnt and confirmed tonight. He seems to have made good use of them too, for his eyes are slightly red and puffy from lack of sleep, and probably crying too, when he finally comes into the room.
"Are we gonna talk about Esther too or should we skip that part?" She teases, hoping it can give both of them a break.
Harvey chuckles as he hands her the glass he's brought for her. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"You were lucky, though," she not-so-casually comments, meeting his half-curious, half-amused face, and adds, "Esther. She's cute."
He throws her a roguish smile as he gets comfortable in the bed again. "Is she?"
"Yeah," she shrugs.
"Does that mean…?"
"Huh?" She utters while taking a sip, playing dumb.
"That you two…"
She arches an eyebrow at him. "I think we both know the answer to that."
Harvey's eyes pop wide open before he starts laughing and Donna smirks.
"So I can't sleep with her but you–"
"Stop it!"
She smacks his shoulder playfully, the gesture only making their laugh grow louder.
"I'm glad you took it well," he says after a moment, "you know, leaving the fact that she was Louis' sister out. I thought it'd upset you."
He's not looking at her anymore, so he misses the way her face falls a little, and admits, "I was jealous when you told me about Mitchell."
"I know," she nods, also glancing away, "do you think I didn't notice how your mood changed as soon as I told you?"
What Donna still doesn't comprehend is why she told him in the first place. They weren't even dating, at least not in the traditional, monogamous way. She met Mitchell the night Harvey accused her of being jealous of him and Esther. She had gone to a club, angry and in need of non-complicated, non-emotional and absolutely non-meaningful sex. Mitchell met all the requirements, so she didn't wait too long to suggest going home – his home, because as much as she hated Harvey at the moment, she wasn't ready to invite someone into the same bed she had shared with him for years.
It was good and easy, exactly what Donna was looking for. Mitchell turned out to be an experienced, very generous lover, but also thoughtful and funny, which definitely contributed to the misery she felt the next morning when she realized she had only done it out of spite; not because she was mad at Harvey, but because he was right and she was jealous and maybe also annoyed he was moving on so fast, so she quickly put on her clothes, grabbed her things and left stealthily before Mitchell woke up.
She would've let it go eventually if Mitchell hadn't called a few days later (apparently at some point of the night she thought it was a good idea to give him her number), so, internally cursing herself and feeling even more terrible, she agreed to meet him that very same night.
There were no double intentions, at least not on her side – she just wanted to apologize for the way she had left the other day and make clear she wasn't looking for nothing serious. However, apart from being great in bed, Mitchell was also very pleasant company, and they quickly fell into a nice, sincere conversation in which Donna ended up telling him the truth – that she had recently left a long, complicated relationship and couldn't give him what he needed. He was surprisingly supportive and let her know he understood her concern, but he also liked her and was willing to wait for her to be ready in case she still wanted to keep seeing each other. 'Something casual, no need to rush, alright?' He said, with a smile she was starting to adore. It almost made her cry. Instead, Donna took him home – her home.
"But I did share my dessert with you, remember?"
Donna almost jumps at Harvey's question, but disguises it by smiling at his apologetic grin.
"I do have something to say about Esther," she waits for his nod to add, "I don't know what happened between you two but you didn't do right by her, at least not at the end of… whatever you two had."
His smile disappears. He can't disagree with her. Sleeping with Esther was a mistake, but making her pay for it was even a bigger one. He was so eager to prove to everyone and to himself that he had got over Donna that it wasn't until he met his own gaze in the mirror of Esther's bathroom after they finished when he finally understood that it was her who he had spent the entire night looking for. He should've been honest with Esther and make clear it couldn't happen again instead of practically running out of her place and snapping at her when she tried to meet again some weeks later.
"I didn't," he concedes, "and I'm sorry I made you hide it from Louis. My therapist… She said that by doing that I was putting you in the same position Lily put me. It didn't go down well with me and Esther took the rap."
"Well, she was right, I hope you can see that now," she states, no trace of resentment in her voice, "but you're not her, Harvey."
He only nods, looking everywhere but her. She does stare at him, the sadness in his expression. He gave himself a hard time over this, she can tell, and no matter what she says can make him change his mind. The idea that maybe it has always been like this sends a chill down her spine.
"When you came back to my desk…" Harvey begins after a beat. "How did Louis take it?"
"You're not gonna believe it, but it was actually his idea."
"He what?"
"He caught me in the file room helping you with Mike's case and we had a little fight, but I guess he realized that you needed me and he fired me."
Harvey smiles at her joke but keeps brooding about what she just said. He never thought that Louis, the same Louis that tried to use his panic attacks against him, would be able to read the room that well, unless he knew how much Donna really means to him.
"Does he know about… Us?"
Donna eyes down. "I had told him a few days before, but I don't think it influenced his decision."
"Do you believe he was expecting us to get back together?"
"Did you?" She volleys back.
"You were dating someone," Harvey lets the silence hang between them for a moment before adding, "but yes, I… I had hope. Couldn't help it."
Part of him warns him about showing his hand like this, but he tells himself it's no time to play the tough guy. He would be lying if he said he doesn't recall that night from time to time. Some things were different – her purse was resting on the couch next to her, she was still wearing her work clothes and there was no take-out in the countertop. And yet, for some reason, it felt like nothing had changed, just a regular night like the ones they used to spend together before everything flew through the air. He didn't read it the wrong way, he was well aware it wasn't one of those nights, but for a moment there, as he heard the sound of her heels clicking against the wooden floor as she walked off, he wished it was.
Something in the way she matches his half smile tells him she felt it too.
He catches her gaze and holds it in place. "I'm glad you came back."
"Me too," she murmurs but looks away, unable to hold his intense one anymore.
They share another moment of quietness before Harvey speaks again.
"There's something else you should know," he senses her eyes on him but doesn't meet them, "I told Scottie about us."
"I know," she replies casually, causing him to finally face her.
"You… How?"
Donna shrugs. "You did when you also told her the truth about Mike, right?"
"What? No," he shakes his head, "I told her the night after she came to the firm and accused me of choosing Mike over her."
"I… I thought–", she stumbles, her mind going a hundred miles an hour.
"You said you didn't want her to know."
"I also said it wasn't a good idea to let her know about Mike and you told her anyway."
"Yeah, but Mike is Mike, and you…"
Harvey lets the rest of the sentence trail off into empty air, biting his lower lip to prevent himself from saying something he shouldn't, not because it wouldn't be true, because it would, but because the last time he did it produced a fierce storm that almost destroyed everything in its path. He gazes intently into her eyes, searching for something that could tell him he's wrong, but she's faster and tears them away before he can read more into them.
"I'm sorry, Donna, it's just… She actually believed that the reason why I never let anything happen between us was that I couldn't share Mike's secret with her and…"
"It's okay," she interrupts, "she deserved to know anyway."
Harvey takes a deep breath. "For what it's worth, she already suspected something and also understood why you wanted to keep it secret. She respects you for that."
"Did you tell her because you want to start something with her?"
"Would it upset you?"
She stares deeply into his eyes for a moment before replying, a little bit harsher than she intended, "no."
A wave of regret flushes through her as she watches his jaw tensing, but recognizes that very same feeling in his tone as well.
"I don't want anything with her. I don't think we could even if I would. I caused her so much pain," he lowers his head, "I'm sure she hasn't forgiven me for playing with her all this time and, you know, I can't blame her."
A deafening silence falls upon them as Donna contemplates his countenance. He shouldn't be carrying this burden on his shoulders. She's as responsible as he is for the way they treated Scottie or whoever they've ever crossed paths with. It was her rules, her reasons, her choice, what was behind it all.
The thought doesn't catch her by surprise, though. The realization hit her that first morning she woke up next to Mitchell, and since then, the mere idea that, as a consequence of what she believed were fair conditions, people got hurt, has been hunting her, showing up when she least expects it, bringing an odd mix of remorse and guilt with it.
However, even though she's aware she will eventually have to deal with it, she decides to change the subject, for Harvey's sake and her own.
"There's something else you should know too," she begins in a kinder tone, "I went mudding with Louis."
She watches his face going from confused, to surprised, to amused, to confused again.
"You what?" She purses her lips to stifle a smile and he exclaims in faux annoyance, "Donna!"
"What? It was… Nice."
"Okay, I'm gonna leave now."
While biting back a grin, Harvey pushes back the sheets to get up from bed, but Donna reaches for his arm to stop him, chuckling.
"Please tell me you didn't see him naked."
"God, no!" She laughs as he leans his weight against the headboard. "But you won't believe what I did see," she teases, arching an eyebrow at his curious face.
"Wait, wait, wait," Donna catches a breath, her jaw sore from all the laughing, "remember when that duchess almost caught us in the bathroom of that gala some british client invited you to?"
He nods, throwing his head back in fits of laughter. "I think we cleaned all the champagne out that night."
"What was the deal with it, anyway? It doesn't even taste good."
"To be honest, I don't like it at all," he confesses, "but I have to admit, it made drunk sex amazing."
"Really? I don't know… It wasn't that good."
"Excuse me?" Harvey closes his eyes and furrows his eyebrows in a funny manner as he says, with a high-pitched voice, "'holy shit, Harvey, I think I've seen God'."
Donna bursts out laughing, scrunching her nose. "That's a terrible impersonation of me!"
"No, that's a very accurate representation of what happened that night," he corrects with a smirk.
"Oh, you wanna go there? Are you sure?" Harvey lifts his hands and shoulders, encouraging her to go on. "Okay, let's see…," she clears her throat and puts on a similar face to his previous one, her voice dropping to imitate him, "'oh fuck, Donna. Oh, fuck. Fuck. You are… Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck'."
Her exaggerated faces are what finally makes Harvey break and he jokingly groans, covering his face with his hands.
"I swear," she says, trying to stop herself laughing out loud, "I had never seen someone cursing that much, it was a bit embarrassing actually."
"Okay, so we're doing embarrassing stuff now, huh? What about that time I was eating you out and you fell asleep?"
The memory only stirs up her laughter. "I was tired!"
"Then, why didn't you say something instead of drifting off with my face between your thighs?"
She snickers. "God, you were grumpy all week."
"Of course I was! You fell asleep," he repeats, lowering his voice to emphasize the word, as he moves his hand to his chest in faux outrage. "You hurt my ego!"
Their chuckles fill the room once more until they gradually get replaced by a natural, pleasant silence. For a moment, Donna finds herself overwhelmed by an odd sense of incredulity. If someone had told her, only a few months ago, that Harvey and her would be reminiscing of times together in such a healthy way, she would've laughed at them. But it feels good, it feels right, and she can't help but be proud of the huge progress they've made tonight.
Donna is snapped out of her thoughts when Harvey speaks again.
"Why did you ask me to stay over tonight?"
"I told you, I didn't want to be alone."
He tilts his head, clearly not buying it. "You could have called Mitchell for that."
Donna glances down at the mention of her boyfriend's name. She told herself the only reason behind her offer was that she didn't want Harvey to spend the night alone just in case he had a panic attack or decided to do something stupid, but the truth is, she had already told Mitchell not to come over because, deep down, she knew he wasn't the person she wanted to be with the night before everything changed.
Afraid she might regret it later, she confesses, "he wouldn't understand."
Harvey observes her expression, considering looking more into the reason for her response, but he's still not sure if bringing this up has been a good move, so he opts to smile timidly at her and says, trying to downplay the issue, "no one does, huh?"
Her eyes bore into him as a grin he can't quite decipher touches her lips.
"Just you and me," she whispers.
His gaze makes a brief stop at her lips as it travels down to the mattress, where, he notices now, their hands are resting just a few inches away, fingers almost touching. His first impulse is to grab hers, see what she would do, if she would pull back or just let him lace their fingers, but he doesn't let it take over. Instead, he moves his little finger closer, glad to see hers remains still, and lets out a shaky sigh.
"You know," he utters softly, "I've been thinking a lot about us, what we had," he senses her stiffening by his side but keeps talking, his eyes still fixated on their hands, "trying to find the moment it all went wrong."
Donna opens her mouth, then closes it. She has spent the entire night actively trying to postpone talking about them as much as possible and, with any luck, even avoid it. It's not that she doesn't want to discuss it, she really does, but then again, this is not the moment or the place and, honestly, as much as they seem to be on good terms now, she highly doubts they're ready for that.
And yet, she knows he won't let go, so she yields. "I don't believe there was a moment, Harvey. It was… A combination of things."
"Yes, but that night…" He makes a fist out of his hand, his Adam's apple bobbing with his swallow. "That night, at my office, after… Stephen, when you said that sometimes it seemed like we were just friends I… I really thought I had lost you."
Her eyes flutter briefly around the room as she goes back over the moment he's referring to, a wave of anger and even embarrassment rippling through her body as she slowly takes in what his revelation entails.
"Why didn't you fight for us?" Harvey lifts his head abruptly, meeting her eyes slicked with unexpected tears. "We had that conversation months before we broke up. In all that time, you thought it was over and didn't do anything? Is that what you're saying?"
He gapes at her, completely lost for words. He has no answer for that. So far, everything he's ever done made sense. He didn't hold what happened with Stephen against her because there was nothing to reproach, and if it be so, he was the one that should have apologized for acting like a jerk. He put his career and everything he's ever fought for on the line to save her from prison without a shadow of a doubt because there was no other choice for him. He left after confessing he loved her because he was aware that there were many things to talk about and sort out before letting anything else happen so he thought that staying would have been a mistake.
However, now, as he finds himself unable to reply to a very simple question, he realizes he fooled himself into believing he did the right thing each of those times when, in fact, all he was doing was pushing her away.
Harvey doesn't notice he's started babbling until he catches Donna's stunned expression out of the corner of his eye.
"Is that true?"
"What?"
"You… You just said that every day you got to be with me was a gift," she says with a trembling, faltering voice, "is that true?"
Harvey tears his gaze away, his own eyes sparkling with unshed tears as well. "I'm sorry I couldn't make you feel that way too."
A prickly ball forms in her throat and she shakes her head. Harvey is easily the cockiest, most arrogant person she's ever met, but when it comes to relationships and emotions, he's a totally different person. He doesn't really love himself, doesn't accept himself the way he is, with his flaws and his baggage and his virtues. That's what Donna has been working on all these years, to make him understand that he is enough.
"It was never about the money, you know? Or about getting married or going to Paris. You were the only thing I wanted," she explains. "I wanted you to open up and tell me you felt betrayed when Mike left, or how you really felt about me and Stephen. I wanted you to say that you missed me when I got fired, and, this is gonna sound unfair because I know you were doing your best to get me out of prison and I will always be grateful for that, Harvey, believe me," she stops to catch her breath, struggling not to cry, "but I wanted you to hug me and say 'don't worry babe, everything's gonna be okay'."
In an outburst of sincerity, she adds, "to be honest, I also wish you had told me everything you're saying tonight when I left and started working for Louis instead of treating me as if I were your biggest mistake."
Not expecting any kind of reaction, Donna sits on the edge of the bed and sniffles quietly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Harvey, for his part, feels his throat clogging up in a very familiar way but sits up as well.
"Donna, you're not… I don't want you to think…," he closes his eyes, trying to get a grip. "You could never be a mistake, Donna. Not to me, not to anyone. I…"
The lack of response discourages him from continuing his speech so he just focuses on calming himself down, eyes fixed on her back, before speaking again.
"Do you want me to leave?"
"No, why would you say that?" She replies, still facing away.
"Aren't you mad?"
His strangled tone draws her attention and she turns briskly, looking for any sign of panic in his face or body. He must conceal it well though, because her expression softens and she gives him a tender smile.
"No, it's just… I'm tired and…," she gives her head a shake, as if she were changing her mind about something, and says, "let's go to sleep, shall we?"
Harvey doesn't look very convinced but concedes and silently motions her to get in the bed before following her, the room soon plunging into darkness again. Donna takes a deep lungful of air in an attempt to settle herself down, but his next words make her dissolve into tears.
"Did I at least make you happy?"
"Of course you did, Harvey," her voice quivers as irrepressible tears begin streaming down her cheeks. "That's the reason why it hurt so much, because you made me so happy. But then these things happened and we reached a point at which we weren't going anywhere, it didn't make sense…"
She brushes her tears away and rolls onto her left side, facing him, "I really meant it when I said you're worthy, Harvey, because you are. You're a good man, even if you don't believe it."
The pillow sinks under his head at his shake as his hands move up to his face.
"I'm not," she can barely hear his muffled voice, "I did love you, Donna, and a part of me will always do, that's why I don't get to understand how I could hurt you so much you had no choice but to break up with me. And now Mike is about to go to prison for something I did, and don't tell me it's his fault too because I was the grown man there, I was the lawyer, and I should've acted like that and not like a goddamn child."
She feels her heart shattering into pieces as he starts sobbing. "I'm tired of seeing how everything I get close to, everything I touch, ends up ruined – my family, Mike, the firm, you. Everyone leaves, sooner or later, and I stay here, and all I have left is this… Anger inside of me and I don't wanna know why it's there or if my mom has anything to do with it, I just want it to stop."
A fresh wave of tears wellings in her eyes as she reaches for his arm, but he's closer than she expected so her hand lands on his chest. He recoils at her touch, rolling over to his side, but she doesn't pull away. She knows he didn't mean to be rude, he's just ashamed, so, instead, she wraps her arms around him and pulls him closer.
"You could never destroy anything, Harvey," she whispers in his ear. "You're one of the best people I've ever met."
Harvey squeezes her hand in response, holding it close to his chest, as he begins weeping uncontrollably. She tightens his hold on him, comforting him over and over until they eventually fall asleep.
His hands are shaking lightly as he opens the car door and sinks into the back seat, feeling a surge of panic rising inside of him. He notices his driver's gaze fixated on him through the rearview mirror, perhaps aware of what's going on.
"Ray, let's go back to the city," Harvey says, giving him a nod of reassurance.
He takes his phone out of his pocket out of habit, although Mike's number is not the one he searches for but Donna's. He doesn't call right away, just lets his thumb hover over her name on the screen as his thoughts drift back to three days before.
The first thing Harvey notices when he wakes up in the early morning is the weight of a body sprawled out on top of him. Despite the pounding headache, probably caused by the lack of sleep, he opens his eyes but all he sees is red. In contrast to the night before, it doesn't take him too long to catch on to what brought them here, so he just pushes her hair aside from his face, careful not to wake her up, before his arms find their position back on her waist without difficulty.
He stays like that for a while, relishing the idea of having her curled up with him like this again, even if it's just a mirage, when he remembers the verdict of Mike's case is meant to be announced today and he pulls away abruptly, reaching for his phone to check the time. The sudden move startles Donna, who looks at him with half-open eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"Shh…," he hushes, slowly slipping out of her grasp to get up. "Go back to sleep."
"Harvey."
The hunt for his clothes comes to a halt and he turns to meet her gaze.
"No," he whispers, answering her silent question. "I'm just gonna go home and change my clothes, alright?"
He knows it is a shitty excuse, for there still must be some of his suits in her closet, but she doesn't seem to realize, just settles back into the pillow and shut her eyes. He stares at her for a moment, doubtful, his fingers tingling in anticipation, until he finally gathers his courage and leans in to gently caress her temple with his knuckles before quietly sneaking out of the room.
A silly grin creeps across his face at the memory and he dials her number.
"You know I'm great at reading people, but I never ever expected Mike to be such a good runaway bride."
Donna smiles at the laughter on the other end of the line.
"How are you?"
"I'm, uh, I'm having trouble breathing," he admits, taking off his tie.
"What can I do?" She inquires without a trace of humor in her voice.
A slight smile touches his face. "Nothing, just talk to me."
"Okay," she murmurs.
"Where are you now?"
"I'm heading back to the firm. Rachel's mom said she'd take care of everything."
"How is Rachel?"
"Well, she is fine, all things considered," Donna lets out a heavy sigh, "I haven't actually had a proper conversation with her. I think she needs to be with her parents now."
Harvey nods. "You know, I've thought of paying her a visit, later tonight, what do you think?"
Her heart involuntarily swells. "That's a great idea, Harvey."
They remain silent for a while, listening only to their respective breath, until Donna speaks again.
"You went to see Gibbs, right? The morning the verdict came in."
Harvey swallows down a lump. "Yes, but not because I didn't believe you when you said we had to have faith, because I did. I do. But I went to court and when I saw Mike wasn't there, I immediately knew where he was and everything happened so fast I didn't… I acted on impulse."
"It's okay, Harvey. I understand."
"You do?"
"Of course I do. I have faith in you, remember?"
They share another chuckle as Harvey looks out the window, already making out New York's skyline.
"What are we gonna do now, Donna?"
"I don't know," she confesses. "For now, the first thing we're gonna do as soon as you get home is have a drink in Mike's name, what do you say?"
"What if I pick you up and we do it in person?"
She laughs. "Alright."
"See you later."
"Bye, Harvey. I'll be waiting for you."
He lets her hang up and stares at the now black phone screen as his face splits in a huge grin, this one way different from the other. For the first time in years, and against all odds, Harvey feels an eruption of butterflies in the pit of his stomach, the feeling spreading light and warm in his chest. It takes him completely off guard, not because he doesn't recognize it, he very well does, but because he genuinely believed he'd never get to experience it again.
They weren't meant to be a promise, but he knows her last words will linger long in his thoughts. The idea of Donna being there, waiting for him, isn't a new one, but nevertheless, one that relieves him, and although the world around them has just crumbled down and he has no fucking clue of how they're gonna get out of this mess, he's okay, because, no matter what, she'll be by his side.
