Chapter 5: Smoke.
Donna finds herself staring down an empty bottle of wine with eyes that can't quite focus. Gripping the green glass with an air that would suggest by squeezing hard enough she could will the alcohol to seep from her veins back into the confines of the container, which she had drained far too quickly.
She rubs a hand across her face, trying to center her thoughts, the skin of her cheeks slightly callous as a result of streams of dried in tear tracks. She can't seem to drag her mind's eye away from the memory of his face as he left, so much hurt and anger trapped there, it had been like a stab in the gut.
Though one she feels she deserved.
She feels an irrational need to punish herself, to even the score and maybe that's why she drank an entire bottle of cheap gas station red without using a glass. Feeling it swirl sickeningly in her stomach, buzzing in her brain, but doing nothing to numb the guilt.
Good, she thinks.
She deserves to feel guilty.
Maybe she's being too hard on herself, but she can't see it that way. Her actions hurt him, they'd spent so long establishing this relationship of trust, this nature of sharing, and yet, while she always seemed the more emotionally intelligent, it had been her who had fallen at the first hurdle, dragging him back along with her.
She reaches for her phone, her movements clumsy, reality distorted and her emotions heightened by her drunken state. Her thumb hits the call button for the fifth time that night, her breath catching in her throat at the unmistakable sound of his voicemail, and before she can properly register the thought she's flinging the offending phone across the room, straight at the glass paneling, watching as it bounces off the bullet proof window and shatters on the floor.
Panting, she slowly drags herself to her feet, a strange contrast of guilt for her actions and anger at his own reaction making her head spin, along with the wine of course.
Her vision is blurry, the room unfolding in a kaleidoscope of colors and she can't remember the last time she was this helplessly drunk. Gripping the back of the couch before moving to press a hand against the wall for support as she makes her way through the living room. Donna fills her lungs through her nose, in what was an attempt at a steadying breath, however instead, a strange smell alerts her senses, something so familiar yet incredibly foreign. It seems to follow her as she navigates towards the security control panel, distracting as she tries but fails to remember the instructions given earlier that day on how to set up the alarm system.
She clicks on something called "Bedtime Security Mode", before continuing on her stumbling journey back towards the bedroom, that smell lingering even after she'd shut the door.
She has no more time to contemplate it as she collapses into bed, falling into an alcohol induced heavy slumber.
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Harvey's not sure how long he's spent wandering the streets of this nameless village, the cold starting to get in on him as he leans back on a nearby wall. He can't stop picturing her face as he left her behind. A spike of guilt hitting him only to be over turned every time by a rush of hurt and betrayal. It's always been something that bothered him, when she keeps things hidden from him, when she isn't honest.
Even though he's still hurting, slowly but surely her reasoning begins to dawn on him in a new light, knowing the ball is in his court now, he can choose how they move forward from this. With every step through the deserted streets he finds his own anger defusing. She may have been in the wrong to begin with, but now he knows he also needs to apologize, he should have shown his support, shown the truth of how happy he was for her, how much he'd love to see her back on the stage.
He's turning on his heel, ready to head back to the car and home to her when his phone rings, Louis' name illuminating the screen. He swipes to answer, holding the phone to his ear.
"Listen, Louis whatever it is now's not the time-"
"I know, you're on vacation, but this couldn't wait," he begins, that tremble of excitement in his voice that Harvey recognizes, "Is Donna there with you, I tried getting through to her?"
"No, she's – I'm just out at the moment, I had to go to the gas station," he stumbles over the lie, getting impatient now, "What is it Louis?"
"Faye is leaving, the bar has agreed to remove her as Special Master, we're in the clear!" he all but yells the end of his sentence.
"Holy shit," Harvey breathes, sitting down into the Mustang, "So does that mean -?"
"Yes, Donna's suspension is revoked, it's all over." He confirms.
The news fills him with a sense of conflict, because it casts another choice into the ring, between Striker, Donna's acting career and their own firm, he's not sure which way to look, but he swears to himself that whatever decision they take, he'll go to the ends of the earth to make sure that Donna still gets to perform, that much is non-negotiable.
Louis is still rambling as Harvey pulls himself back to reality, starting up the car, "Listen Louis, I have to go, I'm driving, but this is great news, I can't wait to tell Don – wait did you say she didn't pick up when you called?" Recalling the comment.
"Yeah, it's strange, I must have rang her five or six times, but the line kept going dead… I'm sure she's just asleep or maybe her phone's out of battery?" he suggests, rationalizing her unusual behavior, it'd be unlike Donna not to answer the phone, especially when someone like Louis was calling.
Taking a glance at the dashboard, the time reads eleven-thirty, which, based on his knowledge of his girlfriend's habits, seems too early for her to have gone to bed.
"I'm sure you're right Louis," he replies, as though maybe by voicing it he can convince himself, a nervous tension settling in his chest, "I'll give you a call in the morning, goodnight."
He hangs up and drives off from his parking spot, accelerating down the empty road, well aware that he's surpassing the speed limit. He's not sure if it's down to the excitement of this news, his eagerness to get home and make things right, or this inexplicable surge of anxiety that urges him to get back to her faster.
A million different scenarios whirling in his mind's eye as to why she didn't answer the phone, his memory returning to what she'd said about that associate, Adam? Was that his name? Something not sitting right with him about the way he'd let himself into their villa. All of this seeming incredibly coincidental all of a sudden.
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She feels a tickling in her chest, her breathing shallow as though a sheet were placed over her mouth and nose, forcing her to work harder to pull in oxygen. Her head feels like a ton weight, somehow heavier than it did when she'd collapsed into bed, her eyes still shut as though plastered together.
Donna manages to pry her eyes open, her face turned to the side as she lies sprawled out on her stomach. Only cracking them open, she snaps them shut again as they suddenly sting unbearably, a sharp intake of breath accompanying the reaction and causing her to cough harshly.
That smell.
It hits her again only paired with something far more familiar. Something that makes her stomach lurch.
Smoke.
Her eyes open again, this time ignoring the sharp sting, as she tries to get her bearings. The room is coated in a mass of dark grey and she struggles to pull herself from the bed, her breathing worsening and her coughing intensifying from the effort.
Donna can barely see two feet in front of her, stumbling towards the bedroom door as the smoke engulfs her.
A dull throbbing in her head throws her off balance, they'd been told about this at one of those mandatory fire safety courses at work, warned about the effects of smoke inhalation on the body, and she checks every box in her mind.
Coughing, shortness of breath, dizziness, impaired vision. And her mild fear rises to full blown panic as an orange-red glow fills the hallway once the door's been opened, heat hitting her skin. She drops to her hands and knees, suddenly remembering that smoke rises and the lower she can stay to the ground the better for her breathing.
Her body aches from coughing as she crawls towards the living area, the heart of the blaze, it hadn't spread far yet but that was changing fast, the flames clinging to everything, from the material of the carpet to the ceiling, the heat overwhelming her further.
She tries to make it to the front door, cautiously crawling forward when a loud screaming creak is emitted from the ceiling, just about managing to launch herself backwards as one of the decorative beams collapses, she finds herself imitating the shriek of the wooden as it hits the ground, causing an explosion of flames and ash that almost blinds her, blocking her path completely.
Donna drags herself back towards the glass paneling that leads to the back garden, leaning against the glass she pulls herself upright, searching blindly for the handle of the sliding door. She gasps out a cry of relief when she locates it, pulling it back with all her might, but finding it locked in place, a robotic voice rings out above her, one which belongs to the smart home security system, "Please disable bedtime safety mode, in order to unlock doors and windows."
She screams in frustration as she pulls desperately at the handle, listening to that automated voice over and over again, her attempts futile. An animal instinct fuels her, panic causing her to shake as she pounds on the shatter and sound proof glass, shouting for help, forgetting all logic as her body begins to shut down.
She sinks to her knees, head pressed against the glass as she chokes and coughs between cries, her eyes snap up as she thinks she catches sight of a silhouette, surging forward to bang on the glass yet again, but the figure in the distance doesn't move, and she begins to wonder if it may just be her own imagination, a hallucination, watching as the shadow disappears.
Her mind casts to Harvey as she gives in, hearing his voice in her head, telling her to keep fighting. But she can't.
"I'm sorry." She rasps, though there's no one there to hear.
The only response the roar of the fire behind her, like a menacing, all consuming threat.
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Hey!! I told you this was going to get more dramatic :) big shout out to Jess (woahrafferty/takeyourside) for proof reading this for me. And this chapter goes out to Cassandra (followUrShadow) for prompting me on this one!
More to come soon... let me know your thoughts x