A/N: I wasn't going to post this at first because it's an old draft and I just now rushed the ending but it's been awhile since I posted something, so I figured why not.
She hears their bedroom door creaking as it pushes open. It's past midnight, and Donna's tossing and turning, ghostly dark and wan moonlight casting light over their bedroom, interfering with her long-awaited sleep. And it really shouldn't be so difficult to relax, considering how little sleep she's been getting the past weeks.
Still, every muscle in her body feels tense as he clumsily move around in the dim-lighted room, shedding himself of his three piece suit. She watched him put it on this morning, navy blue fabric clinging to his body like armor, and there was a point in their life when she used to love those moments. Before Seattle, when there was laughter and comfort in getting dressed together, when she felt so complete, so at home, especially throughout the night with his arms secured around her.
It's not like that anymore, haven't been for months, and the mornings they spend together nowadays are short and distant, the car rides not filled with innocent touches or banter. Their days doesn't include each other, and Donna feared this would happen when she first took her new job, one that didn't have anything to do with the law. But Harvey promised, and she believed him, chose to trust that he could handle putting her needs above his own for once and god, does she hate being wrong.
They moved here for a fresh start, and perhaps her expectations were set too high. Because most of the time it's dull, the days are cold and work was far from what she'd envisioned when they were offered the opportunity to work together with their best friends again. And so the theatre saved her, the option of acting again falling so perfectly in her hands, but it was a foolish mistake to hope that a job could also piece them back together.
Yet the absolute worst part, she thinks, is the endless nights. Although she can literally feel the warmth from his body, she also senses the disconnect.
The light from the bathroom seeps through the gaps of the door, as the sound of running water fills the itching silence. And Donna lays in the bed that haven't felt like theirs in so long, wondering if it's the smell of alcohol he's trying to wash away, like she wouldn't know he's been drinking. Her chest feels tight, because he is pushing fifty and she remembers a fight they had back in New York, one where she was worried he wasn't taking care of himself.
It's obvious that he isn't now, but she's too afraid to ask, scared that he won't care or shut her down which wouldn't surprise her, unfortunately. She feels detached from him, and it's exhausting, to try and hold onto promises he never seem to have any intentions on keeping.
When he emerges from the bathroom, he sighs, perhaps now aware that she's indeed not sleeping, but just pretending to be.
Confirming her thoughts, Harvey then whispers, "You awake?"
He carefully sits down at the edge of the bed and somehow he knows, can tell from her uneven breathing, the bond between them not entirely shattered, that Donna's only bluffing.
"I'm sorry." He continues, because it's also clear that her silence is to hide or control her hurt and anger.
Donna exhales, her voice hoarse as she finally speaks "You're always sorry, Harvey."
He shifts uncomfortably, frowning at her dismissal. "What do you mean?" He croaks out, and he loathes the weakness in his voice.
"I mean, it's not the first night you're late, or the second, it's every night. You promised you'd slow down." Donna hates it as well, that she can't stop her own voice from breaking, that neither of them seem to have much fight left.
And still, Harvey finds it within him to become defensive. "Donna, you know how it is. This case is just-"
"Every case, Harvey. You do this with every case." Donna cuts him off, her tone sharper than before and he instantly realizes his mistake. He thought he'd learned to be vulnerable, especially around Donna, but his pride is, after all these years, still getting the better of him.
"I'm trying, Donna." Is all he says. Trying, is not nearly enough anymore. He knows.
Donna sits up then, now facing him, but her grip around the blanket doesn't loosen, as if the thin fabric would put a wall between them, shield her from him. "Are you? Because ever since I took that job, in which you said you'd support me, I feel like I never get to see you. When was the last time we had dinner together? Or spent the morning in bed? You're gone before I wake up and you come home when I'm already asleep. I hate it, Harvey." She confesses, and Harvey sees the moisture in her eyes that's threatening to escape.
He reaches out to touch her, only to be met by her shaking her head. He immediately pulls back and it goddamn stings, the distance between them as she wipes away her tears, not letting him any closer.
A thought hits him so sudden, and with such force it's hard to voice it. "Do you think I'm punishing you for not wanting to work at the firm?" It's barley above a whisper this time.
Donna swallows, and her hesitation tells him she does. Harvey quickly blinks away the hurt building in his own eyes, and he wonders how long she's been thinking that that is the case. That he's been punishing her, intentionally setting out to make her feel guilty. He'd never do that to her.
"Every night when you walk through that door I want to be angry with you, but all I can feel is relief because at least you came home. So I don't know, Harvey, you tell me." Donna breathes, and she looks so utterly defeated that something inside him breaks.
"No. Donna I- I know how much you love your new job, and I would never hold that against you, ever. I support your choices, even when they don't fit me perfectly, you know this, we've discussed it." He desperately says, because he never wanted to be that person who takes and takes and takes. And now here they are, and he's understanding what she hasn't said out loud yet. She's putting his needs above her own, putting herself second, and they both swore to never let that happen again.
"Discussing something and actually living up to your word are two very different things, Harvey."
She's right, he knows she is and for a brief moment he thinks that he should walk away. That he should do her the favor because she deserves so much better than this, than him, and that was Harvey's biggest fear for a long time, that was the reason he kept her at arms length for years. Because he wasn't, evidently still isn't, worthy of her.
"Then please, tell me how to fix this." He's pleading now, anything to halt the panic from crashing upon him.
Donna doesn't read it for what it is, that fear in his eyes, a glimpse of that broken man who once begged her to not go, because his mind was holding him under water. When she first told him she loved him. When she first left him. When he had his first panic attack. No, Donna doesn't see it, otherwise she wouldn't have continued, she would have calmed him down, but somewhere along the very thin line they've been walking on lately, her ability to read him like the open book he once was, failed her.
And so she locks his eyes, and tells him, "I need you here with me, I need you to make time for us, and if that's not what you want anymore, then Harvey, I need to know."
If that's not what you want anymore.
"Dammit Donna, of course I want this. You're my wife, that means something. Hell, it means everything." He's panting by now, his lungs not cooperating in the slightest and he can't-
"I don't even feel like I can be honest with you anymore." Donna admits with a raspy whisper, and she wishes that wasn't the truth. But it's eating her alive, every day when she opens her mouth to speak but stops herself, incase he won't like to hear what she has to say. Cause she figured they'd done enough fighting for a lifetime, that the silence was better than the yelling. It's simply is not. Not when it's been slowly tearing them apart, more than any screaming and fighting could have done.
Harvey closes his eyes. The knowledge that she's not only doubting his love for her, but that she's losing faith in him as well, is enough to tip him over the edge.
I don't even feel like I can be honest with you anymore. She's gonna leave him. She's gonna walk out and he can't even blame her.
Harvey'd almost forgotten, how it felt to be fighting for air, how fast his body began sweating and the shaking, god he hated the shaking.
"Donna..." He begs, not entirely sure what for. Something. Anything.
"What's wrong?" She begins slowly, unaware. That until she notices his nails digging into his palms, like he's struggling for control.
"Harvey."
He wants to escape, flee far from this conversation and the way she's currently watching him, with pity, with regret, with guilt for pushing him. He's a grown goddamn man yet he can't even handle her honesty without spiraling.
"Just give me a moment." Harvey manages to choke out between his jagged breathing, embarrassment flooding his cheeks.
He feels a hand clasp his own a second later. "Harvey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Just breathe, okay?" Donna squeezes his fingers lightly and though he's grateful for the comfort she's providing, she shouldn't have to be the one to always bend a knee. He's the asshole, he messed up, by working himself around the clock, by believing his own lies about being fine, by shutting her out.
Still, Donna seems to have completely forgotten about who's at fault here, because before Harvey realizes what she's doing, Donna pulls him in closer and he automatically buries his head in the crook of her neck. She's stroking his hair, telling him that everything will be alright, that she is sorry, and that she loves him.
Harvey inhales a deep breath, and then he's hugging her back, really hugging her, with his arms around her waist and his chest pressed to hers. He's almost afraid he'll crush her at first, but Donna's holding onto him just as tight, no interest in letting him go anytime soon.
It's when she sniffles against him that Harvey slowly untangles himself from her body. Only to rest his forehead against hers.
"I'm so sorry, Donna. I swear I'm gonna make this right." He mumbles, and Harvey knows it's gonna take more than just words this time, for her to believe him. But he will. He'll become that better version of himself, find himself back into that man who asked her to marry him at their best friend's wedding six months ago. He owes her that much, to not give up on them.
Donna leans into his hand that's caressing her cheek, now allowing him to brush away the wetness under her eyes. "I love you, Harvey. I won't ever abandon you. I just need you to talk to me, no more hiding."
He stares into her eyes, into her soul, "No more hiding." He repeats.
They don't talk more that night, but Donna's able to sleep through the night, as if his arm wrapped around her middle was the missing key. She doesn't wake up to an empty bed, but to him instead. It's not like it used to be. There's no lazy kissing, or teasing or giggling. But he's here, and it's still them, together. It's progress. It's a step in the right direction. Donna knows that last night confirmed her suspicions, that Harvey's not fine, that it'll take real work for them to find their way back to normal again.
But she still wears his mother's ring on her finger, that constant reminder of who they are to each other allowing her to feel hopeful. She's not walking out, and Harvey's not hiding, they chose one another six months ago and Donna'll keep choosing him every day for the rest of her life.
Husband and Wife. That means something.
Everything, she thinks, just as he said, it means everything.
Two years later, when Harvey falls down on one knee and asks her to marry him again, Donna's never been more proud of how far they've come.
He was worth the wait.
