I cannot believe that we've come to this but THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER. You are going to finally have an answer and get a little surprise at the end. (A couple of you might have figured it out because I left some clues here and there in the past two chapters; then tell me who guessed!)
I'm so thankful for all of your incredible support, without that, it would have been all meaningless. This has been the most incredible journey and if it were for me, I'd selfishly let it go on forever. But sadly, I'm trying to be as philosophical as I can and face the end.
Of course, I have to come to terms with the fact that this last piece cannot be as I wanted it, because it would be utopia. Though, I really hope you're going to like it. I will miss so so much these particular Harvey and Donna, and (sorry not sorry) messing with them. Not to mention, I feel in love with my own Penelope.
Enjoy this!
G-
The wooden door gets opened with a sonorous squeak, the kind you get when you haven't lubed the hooks in a long time. It feels old, it feels lived, it feels comfortable.
Mike and Rachel wish from the bottom of their hearts time could just freeze, to enjoy another moment of blissful ignorance and somehow receive a little heads-up before they'll get the seemingly feasible slap of knowledge in the face. Nevertheless, the moment takes as long as expected; a bunch of seconds and they come face to face with the respective best friends.
The couple had foreseen every viable kind of reaction — from bloodshot orbs, to big toothy from ear to ear smiles — but nothing could have prepared them for what they really experience. That is... nothing. Absolutely nothing. The cosmic void. Not the littlest excerpt of any kind of sentiment transpires by their traits, and mentioned lack of expression makes their blood run cold. The younger lawyers crave for the slightest hint of any resolution, praying for the others to give in and land whatever piece of the life-changing news — positive or negative that is — they are willing to let go. To just share with them. But they are met with nothing more than two perfectly aseptic faces.
The thousand questions flying around their heads die on their tongues, not really brave enough to break the bubble. Rachel gulps, and the sound alone resonates in the space, louder for the lack of conversation filling the air around them. They can discern the barking of a dog from afar, the faint voices of some cooking program the neighbors are probably watching right now, their heavy in-and-out breathing. These are the only sounds that catch their ears for what seems like forever. Albeit a fifth person would say it was just a few seconds.
Bark, cooking, in. Bark, cooking, out.
Bark-
"Hi dad." A little voice breaks the deafening silence. They all turn their attention to the toddler currently waving at Harvey, eager to see him and her mom back. She's got a brand new drawing to show them, and she flashes it proudly, like the first man on the moon did with the american flag. Penelope is a mix of reddish messy locks, half-up in a ponytail, bouncing up and down, the smoothest curve of rosy lips blooming in a radiant smile, marks of crayons on her little digits. Those are necessary in every good painter, her grandma Lily would say.
Harvey seems to be taken out of his daze, like washed by a bucket of iced water, and begins to take three brazen steps in her direction.
Somewhere in the process, Mike realizes his former mentor lets go of Donna's hand, meaning that he had held it all that time and they hadn't even noticed. To be fair, it's definitely most likely to spot something odd when two people like them — a perfect interlock — are parted than when they fit together. Mike thinks about the years when the concept of them even touching was surreal, and the irony of it all doesn't get lost on him.
Penelope looks at him with the kind of excitement that only a child can own, blinking a few times while extending her free hand. She aims to catch his attention, acknowledgment by some kind of contact. Cheerful and completely oblivious, she still waits for her number one fan to take her in his arms and compliment her, but the sharp contrast with Harvey's coldness is so striking they fear she can sense it. Don't you dare leave her like this, the godparents internally scream.
Right then, quick as lighting, so fast they think they may have imagined it, Harvey hoists her up and envelopes her in an all-consuming hug. His muscles contract under the tight-fitting dress shirt, and they wonder how Penelope isn't currently gasping for air. She's the last drop of water in the desert, and Harvey is lost and thirsty. Thirsty of love. To give and to take.
Mike and Rachel divert their gazes to Donna, expectantly. Is it a goodbye to all the memories they have built together? Or is it a celebration of them and the new ones to come? The redhead tears her eyes away from the unfolding scene with effort. There's a moment, a pregnant pause, the stasis before the world keeps spinning again, in which they swear they can see the edge of her lips slightly curling up. Something shifts that second, they can feel it.
The human being hopes, and it's afraid to be left with nothing if not disappointment. It's cruel reality, that even when he achieves happiness, he's reluctant of fully committing to it. He's too sceptical to see what's right in front of his stupid face — how funny is it that this is something completely in tune with Harvey and Donna's story. It's goddamn hard to finally break away from the paralyzing fear, but Donna realizes that she's now allowed to believe again, and she doesn't have to tiptoe around joy, afraid someone can take it away from her.
For the first time she concedes them — and herself — the proof that everything is indeed going to be okay, and that message is conveyed with an almost non-existent nod of head. But it's there, and it's everything. They all hold their breaths; "Hi, my sweet baby girl." Harvey's chocked and muffled voice emerges as light to brighten up the room and their lives.
Mike exhales with relief and the tension leaves his body, depriving it of the stoic posture it had settled into. He turns to his wife, who's likewise overwhelmed by the wide set of emotions she believed impossible to feel all in such a small span of time. The brunette's hand rests above her heart, as to coax it into stopping the assaulting beat over her ribcage. She can't help but let out a wet chuckle, and Mike outstretches an arm that wraps around her shoulder. His head hides in the crook of her neck, covering his glistening eyes. Their empathy never ceases to amaze. They just have so much to thank them for, from Harvey giving Mike the job which resulted as the biggest turn of his life, to Donna giving Rachel a shoulder to cry on every chance she got. That and every little pretty big deal in between. They're family.
Donna would love nothing more than to launch herself into the affectionate embrace between the fruit of her loins and the man who made possible for it to ripen, but decides against it. Harvey deserves to enjoy this father-daughter moment alone, having space to process the new assets and certainties. To live under this new perspective. Hers, after all, isn't too bad either. She can silently appreciate the similarities between Penelope's jaw and Harvey's, how the frown of her brows resembles so much his, and the cut of her lips aspire to a Cheshire Cat smile. Like, really cherish them, knowing that it isn't just figment of her imagination.
It dawns to her now, that she and Harvey have gone beyond.
Being the upscale woman she is, Donna used to scorn herself for not being capable of manage every single aspect of her life. It made her feel vulnerable, submitted to standards she seemed to heighten herself whenever she was close to brush them, and unsuitable for the merciless business she still operates in. She has maneuvered deals, instrumentalised the well practiced arts of charm and persuasion, manipulated people through them, never allowing the world to see her break a sweat.
Something incompatible the second the gynecologist put the squirmy, fuzzy, pink bundle of joy on her chest. She has had quite a hard time wrapping her head around it — her new priority and the fact she had to respond of her actions to somebody else too — but she accepts that everything is no longer under her control. And it's okay, even so. If she believed Harvey was her soft spot, actually creating someone from scratch, growing it and watching it become a person at 360 degrees on the mold of him, yeah, it goes pretty beyond anything. There will never be anyone that amazes, loves, frightens and makes her happy more than them.
You can never go back.
A lonely tear escapes the confines of its ducts. Just one, because she has no reason to shed them anymore.
Penelope does her best to figure out what's gotten into all of them. Adults are just strange, she assumes. But there's something weighting the atmosphere, like this magnetic force that pulls the gravity of the situation towards her. Something so present, she can almost palpate it. And while she's got the acting gene by her mother, so likes being at the center of the attention, the core, somehow it's just different. It's different the way they look at her, it's different the way they behave, it's different the way her dad holds her. She knows it for a fact, because it's the same way she latches on him when she's scared of the height, or when he takes her to the zoo and an elephant is coming too close for her liking, or even when her bedroom is too dark and she needs someone. There's need of protection, need to feel, need to make sure there's someone to hold onto. And if maybe, just maybe, she would have heard Harvey whisper to himself, "I've always known you were mine." she could have understood what all that commotion was about. But maybe it's better this way.
.
.
They were keen to start this new chapter of their life, in love as ever, self-conscious of their shortcomings and without any secrets. They sleep all through the night, happy and content, with nothing that can trouble their sweet dreams. Still, they both agreed that their fresh start needed some kind of 'getting rid of old stuff', even if it reminded Donna of her college spring-cleaning days. It came as a natural agreement, as they were lying in bed together, Penelope fast asleep between them, a mess of limbs and comfortable pajamas.
Harvey's arm is trapped under the napping form of his daughter, already tingling toward numbness, but there's no way in hell he's going to move them. He's willing to leave her into Morpheus' arms a little longer and endure some soreness in exchange.
"Something bugging you?"
"Mh?"
"You're clenching your jaw so hard it seems like you're trying to crack a nut with your teeth." She points at him. Funny, he thinks. He hasn't even noticed. But again, his wife is way more in tune with his feelings than he is. She's just better at it.
Now that he pays attention to it, there's indeed been something bothering him. Since he has laid down on the soft cotton sheets, he hasn't been able to relax, quite the contrary. He's felt restless, like annoyed by a bug that was silently taking over his king-size mattress. If he was a little more aware of his feelings, he'd find the analogy quite poignant. It doesn't take a graduated analyst to figure out that the germ infecting his habitat is a certain convicted felon and that the bed is really... well his bed literally and his life broadly speaking.
Harvey looks down at his daughter. He sees her, close to the peak of her bloom, yet knocked down by the ultimate turmoil they put her through. She's supposed to found her emotional strength now, and he wants to set a good example. So, freeing his chest from all that could keep him from giving her the best version of himself seems effortless.
"The night we didn't spend together," she nods, as she collocates whatever he's going to say in a chronological space. "I happened to have a bad, really bad, dream. And let's just say that this bed brings back some unpleasant memories," he strokes Penelope's hair. "Of you... and Stephen... and- please don't make me go further." He grimaces at the thought of his precious bride turned into an unfaithful woman, captured by the arms of who might as well have been the devil.
"I don't want you to," she reassures him, reaching for his hand and placing hers on top of it. Donna sympathizes. She gets him, and wants to make sure he knows just that. "And you shouldn't feel this way in your own house, in your own bed. Which, by the way, has been untouched by any other man since-"
"Please don't say his name."
"I was going to say since my father came to visit us, pretty." She nudges him with her elbow. He quietly laughs, she does the same. It's nice that they can finally joke about that.
"It's ok. It will just take some time for me to delete that image from my head." He shrugs, but to Donna it doesn't feel like something they should underestimate.
"What if we moved out?" The words are out of her mouth, hitting his eardrums before she can stop them.
Harvey is beyond stunned by her sudden proposal, eyes popping out dangerously, "Donna, are you crazy? No, there's no need." He dismisses while his hands cup the little kid's ears to prevent her from listening and consequently stir.
"But, I mean, it makes sense. We are trying to move on, and this place," she raises her dark manicured hands, gesturing spectacularly around "as much as it holds many great memories, you and I both know it's been theater of just as many bad ones lately."
She does have a point, Harvey thinks. Plus, he cannot deny that the thought of building a new home with Donna sounds thrilling.
"But this has been your home since I've known you. You don't have to give it up for me. You don't ever have to give up anything for me." He reasons.
"Oh sweet Jesus, your such a sap." Her eyes are all soft for him though, so they basically betray her. He knows she secretly loves every second of his mushy pleasantries. So much for 'flattery will get you everywhere'. "And I'm not giving up anything, because home is where you and this little brat are." Donna adds, gently bristling Penelope's hair. She might wake her, but who actually cares. Long gone are the nights where she would hate waking up her sleeping baby to breastfeed, terrified she would never come back to sleep. She's almost nostalgic now, to be honest.
"Who's the sap now?" He gives her a look.
"Come on! I'm serious." She urges him, while playfully slapping his free arm. "What you say?" She's looking at him impatiently, with bated breath, as if she doesn't know he would follow her everywhere.
"I say," he leans forward as much as Penelope allows him and places an innocent, yet meaningful peck on her lips. "it's not a wrong idea, after all."
She says, "Good."
He mirrors, "Good."
Then he just rubs his chin thoughtfully, pretending to give a look at his options. After a wide moment of 'deep reflection', he finally speaks, "But I have two conditions."
"Oh, do you now?" Donna narrows her eyes.
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"Alright." She comes to sit straight, angling herself to give him her full attention. "Shoot."
"First, we're going to hang that painting with the red hallway on it that's probably making mould in my old bedroom." He displays, meeting a more than surprised look playing on her face.
"That's your first?" Donna wonders. "Yeah... sure. Why not?"
This is going well so far. And Harvey's positive she won't argue with the next point.
"And second, we're going to buy a single-family house."
"I thought you hated those."Donna frowns. This man is certainly full of surprises tonight, she thinks.
"Yeah, maybe I did years ago when I had no one to live in with. But I think that we're going to need as much space as possible if we're going to expand our family." Donna's breath catches in her throat. Did he just...? "Penelope keeps asking us to get her a dog, and I don't think we're going to get out of this anytime soon." He concludes.
Right. A dog. She was expecting something less... furry and quadruped. But she gets it, really.
She would lie if she didn't admit that the thought of giving Penelope a brother or a sister hasn't crossed her mind from time to time. Because it has. To relieve the experience of the pregnancy in a definitely steadier condition in the first place, but also because — come on — who wouldn't want to have any more kids with that handsome man of hers? As a matter of fact, Harvey and her already had been trying for their second baby, after about three years since Penelope's arrival.
And if she had cursed the fertility of her body when she got knocked up unexpectedly the first time, nature and karma had a strange way of revolving, and she found herself crying to sleep because this time she just couldn't. No matter how hard they tried, something didn't work. And it was silly, really, since they were already parents. Yet, something about being ready this time around, truly wanting it, and still not being able to conceive was heartbreaking.
They decided to stop eventually, when they realized that their sex was just calculated and lacked of passion whatsoever, an when their frustration over something they couldn't control was obnubilating their relationship. Somehow she had been opened up to the possibility again, but lately, with all the Stephen fiasco, she figured he wouldn't want to tie himself more than he was already.
Harvey notices how her eyes look down and how her face basically drops, understanding that she's the most clever woman he knows, but sometimes still without a clue when it comes to him. He breaks his joke, "And who knows... maybe a few more kids?" He promotes almost casually.
Her head immediately shoots up and you can't miss how her face lights up. He likes that look on her. But she wouldn't be Donna if she didn't opt to play hard to get. "A few more? Do I look like a rabbit to you? Do you want to raise a baseball team?"
"I'd raise a soccer team with you, Donna." He says sincerely.
Donna smirks because, little does he know, they're on the right track.
.
.
Harvey Specter doesn't stare. Yes, he could appreciate from afar like a gentleman, maybe acting on his likings in a more direct way when he spotted someone pretty; but if he happened to find a nice blonde or brunette in some random bar, he just had to wink and the game was up. So he had never had to wait in a corner to let a girl understand his intentions anyway. The closer never found himself unable to tear his eyes from someone and silently appreciating its beauty without purposeful looks, neither tentative faces. But of course, it was before he met his former Girl Friday.
He can't quite pinpoint what's particularly captivating about her this time, but she's sure as hell appealing. Donna is a fine woman when she suits herself up for work or events, her statuesque silhouette and the way it seems like she could run all over you have always been a big turn-on for him. Except this morning she's not erected on five inches Manolo Blahnik, neither wrapped in one of her tailored Dior sheath dresses, or wearing her hair in loosened smooth waves for the matter. Instead, her usual attire is traded for yoga pants, a far too stretched around her middle tank top, and a checkered bottom down hanging open around her shoulders. Oh, and is it important to mention she's put on flats and a messy bun?
So, Harvey isn't just staring, he's ogling.
He has always been a total wreck when it came to her, no one could just compare. He has found himself searching for fiery red hair more than once, all the others suddenly not relevant. He doesn't really know if it is out of love, but he has genuinely never seen someone as beautiful as her. And maybe it is influenced by her character, or her perfect features, or her stunning physique, but he believes there's just one more little thing that he misses. Because out there there are plenty of beautiful women, but she's just... different. He doesn't want to find out though, wants to be surprised each time and discover what drives him crazy about her every day. The chase is exhilarating, and he says it as the most natural thing in the world.
Today, for example, she's got this typical extra glow.
"Are you sure this thing has ever been off?" She struggles with the pins of the painting, already annoyed by the fact that it isn't coming down and her husband's help is close to zero. She turns to find him glued to the bed, at least two feet from her, "Can you stop ogling, it's not something a gentleman would do."
"Oh, but I believe we have plentifully established that I'm not a gentleman." He teases her getting up and closing the gap between them. His body is close enough that she can feel the warmth of his presence on her back even without a proper touch, and if they say that 'to await a pleasure, is itself a pleasure', well it's totally working for her.
"You were the one who put this damn thing as a condition, and now you're going to have to give me a hand." Donna raises further up the already rolled-up sleeves and puts her hands on her hips with a sassy attitude. Harvey places his hot palms there, encouraging her to loosen up a bit.
She muses for a second, then she suddenly giggles. "What?" Harvey queries with a hint of jest.
"Just reminiscing." She encircles his neck. "You, two-weeks-to-go pregnant me, a very highly dangerous seat..." she trails off.
"Alright," he scowls "but, just for the record, I was right. Or do I need to remind you that there was amniotic fluid all over the place?"
Donna rolls her eyes, "It wasn't because of the chair and you know it."
"Whatever lets you sleep at night." Harvey pulls her closer and the shorter tufts that have escaped the scrunchie fall like a curtain. "You remember that?"
"I'm Donna, I remember everything."
Harvey shakes his head, as he adjusts her ragged shirt, with the most spontaneous caring gesture she's ever witnessed to.
"And I also remembered to give the real estate consultant a call. Told him to filter out our research: only single-family houses."
"Convinced to get a dog?"
"Mh, well that might have to wait. It seems like we already have a third bedroom to fill." And then she gives him that look, one that is so incredibly Donna, with eyes that speak volumes and more than a thousand words at the same time, daring him to grasp what she just confessed.
It takes Harvey just a second, then he stalls. Nervousness starts to muscle in, spreading a tacit crunch in her abdomen. At this point Donna is positive she has broken him, because he still hasn't batted an eye.
Then, "What did you just say to me?" He chokes out. "Because if you're saying what I think you're saying."
"Harvey," She gently takes his hand and interlocks their fingers, and he lets her. He lets her guide him, through the dark toward the light, as she's done since day one. "I'm pregnant."
His eyes are blazing, a surge of enthusiasm and happiness swells his chest fully. Happiness, most of all happinesses. He's sure he's never really felt it, the pure, sheer and whole sense of the word, till this woman happened to him. No, scratch that. Since this badass had the guts to come to him.
This woman who made him a better man, who made him want to be a better man.
This woman who stood by his side when everybody else left.
This woman who has always been unapologetic for who she is and who has brighten up his life with her spirit.
This woman who is the mother of his two children, product of years of understanding, trust, devotion and love.
This woman who made him have faith.
He will probably never be able to put into words his gratitude, because everything seems so disturbingly not enough. He figures taking her in his arms and spinning her around, hoisting her like the most valuable and precious thing in the world, is a good start.
"We are going to have another baby." He overwhelmingly tells her with tears that tarnish his vision.
"We are going to have another baby." She nods away the commotion.
Donna feared she wouldn't be able to love another baby as much as Penelope. She believed she had a certain quantity of love to give, and her firstborn and Harvey took it all. But knowing another little human is growing inside of her supplies her with an endless amount. She's filled to the brink, and she's eternally thankful for that.
"Wait a second," his face turns serious for a second, soon replaced by a waggish grin "are you sure it's mine this time?"
Donna smacks his chest.
"What?" He pushes his flesh against hers, and she just smiles softly. "Too soon?"
"Right on time."
And, that's really it. Unless you want a little bit of a time-jump to see how things are working out, let me know. I'm going to take a little big of time to clear my head and then start writing again, because I already have a couple of ideas. Please tell me what would you like to read next (multi-chapter, one-shots...)
A big thank you to all of you. Love you endlessly!