Well don't just stand there, say nice things to me... cause I've been cheated I've been wronged and you, you don't know me.
I can't change, I won't do anything at all.
- Matchbox 20, Push
Harvey opens the door to the roof breathing out a mix of fear and hesitation as he tries to steady his rapidly beating pulse. He's been searching everywhere for Donna and the narrow stairs winding up to the top of the building were an afterthought, one he only considered when he saw the access to the fire escape from the lower ground. As far as he knows Samantha and Louis are still looking and he edges out on the uneven tiling spotting Donna's silhouette sitting on the wall, legs dangling over the streets of Manhattan.
The sight makes his stomach clench with anxiety and his first instinct is to rush towards her but the ground is still wet, slippery from all the rain, and he's careful not to make any rash movements. He needs to gauge the situation first and takes a single step forward keeping himself at a safe distance.
"Donna..." he tests her name, mindful that he doesn't startle her, "everything okay?"
The voice penetrates her grogginess and she reluctantly drags her gaze away from the glittering horizon. She feels strange like she's floating outside her body and his appearance makes her smile broadly. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
"It's great." The response is flippant and miles away from caring about the damn view. His only concern is her safety and the protective urge rears above everything else. "Why don't you come down from there?"
She sighs at his dismissal and turns her head back to the lights dancing in front of her. Why should she? Below them Manhattan is trapped in a gridlock, a rush and bustle that never sleeps and she likes being above the suffocating swell of people and nine to five drama. It's calming and she rolls her head to the side absorbing the zigzag of colours washing over her vision.
His fingers twitch at her silence and the need to do something fires through his body but her lack of awareness keeps him fixed in place. She's high as a fucking kite, that much is obvious, and he exhales trying a different approach. "You're right," he pauses forcing sincerity into his voice, "it is beautiful. Mind if I join you?"
A flash of her dilated pupils keep him from making the attempt and he flinches.
Great, even drugged she knows when he's lying.
The hesitation rolls off him in waves and she squints trying bring the colours swirling around him into focus but the vibrancy tears at his edges. He's rigid in the darkness, a grey enigma, and she shakes herself trying to clear the thoughts swimming in her head. She doesn't want to be dragged back into the shadows. She wants to stay and feel, forget about overthinking every tiny little detail.
He reads the shift in her body language, the tremor that washes over her and doesn't know if it's from the drugs in her system or the wind picking up but either way it doesn't matter. He needs to get her inside and out of danger. "Donna, please... just come down." He debates reasoning with the truth but isn't sure it would get through and plays it safe feeling the desperation crawl beneath his skin. "You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
Bullshit, she thinks, sweeping the hair from her face.
It's always about him.
His needs.
For once she doesn't want to listen and stubbornly palms the bricks beneath her hand intrigued by their slick rough texture. Everything is different and she keeps her gaze downcast focusing on the intricate pattern and tracing its symmetry. "Why should I?"
She sounds like a petulant child and he locks onto the frustration he can feel brimming. It's easier than fixating on his fear and he squares his shoulders addressing her like a parent. "Because it's dangerous."
She feels an urge to giggle at the ridiculous statement. It's no more unsafe than the confinement of the city below. The muggings, stabbings and god knows what else is going on down there. If he bothered to look he'd be able to see it but he won't and she doesn't need a lecture on 'the world according to Harvey Specter'. She's perfectly fine figuring things out on her own. "Just go, Harvey."
The curt brushoff stabs through him and he reacts leveraging the emotion. "You want me to leave, fine, I will." Like hell he will. He isn't going anywhere but plays along for the sake of changing tactics. "Just as soon as you agree to come inside."
She isn't surprised by the the ultimatum. After all that's what he does best, gets what he wants and then leaves. Thomas wasn't like that and the sudden untimely comparison crashes through her catching her off guard. For a few fleeting seconds she'd forgotten what it was like to miss him, to have somebody, and the reminder feels amplified as it swells in her throat.
He hears the hitch in her breathing and doesn't know what to do. Trying to rationalise anything at this point is probably futile but he's never been able to stand seeing her hurt and the sympathy that breaks his voice is genuine, "Donna... I can help fix this but I need you to listen to me."
"Don't-" she throws a hand up trying to block the condescending tone. What could he possible know about being in a functional relationship? Thomas wasn't some waitress or retail assistant. He was real and it meant something, he mattered.
"Don't what?" He stands there confused, his face tense and focus split as he calculates the distance between them. It's maybe six or seven feet which isn't far but it feels like a highway of separation when her words draw him back, punching straight through his gut.
"Care, Harvey." She defends against pretending there's an easy fix. That's what he does not her, and she's tired of always running in the same circle chasing their tails.
The wind bites sharply and he watches another tremor rake through her the reaction rendering him immobile. He's scared shitless he'll do something to throw her off balance and tries to swallow the panic knotting in his chest. It won't help and he steels himself channeling the fear into frustration, something he can manage. "You know I care Donna."
She does and deep down the words penetrate the doubt clouding her judgement. Despite his resentment towards showing emotion he's found ways to express himself but the meanings are always lost in a labyrinth. It isn't his fault. She let herself in but finding her way out has been one of the hardest things she's ever had to do. "Maybe you should ask yourself if it's worth it."
The comment is jarring and the blatant disregard for their friendship bolsters his frustration. It's like she's deliberately twisting a knife and he doesn't think twice about the drugs or the ramifications of lashing out. "I don't need to ask myself a shit-" he snaps, the anger barreling from his mouth, "or does the last fourteen years not count for a damn thing?"
She recoils at the ferocity, a wave of dizziness riding the haze of confusion trapping her thoughts. She doesn't want to do this with him anymore. She exhausted, disorientated and hot tears burn her gaze as she silently wills an escape from the conversation.
He watches her visibly struggle and swears under his breath cursing the stupidity of losing it. He was the one who dragged her into this mess. She's the victim of his actions, another person hurt because he couldn't see what was right in front of him and the irony drums in time with his rapidly beating pulse. He wishes to god it was someone else up here. Someone like Louis who would be able to say the right thing and comfort her because he's always fallen short of being that in her life but it's time he manned up and stopped being afraid.
"I'm sorry I shouldn't have snapped," the apology slips out as he edges into her peripheral, "but I need you to trust me."
She can feel her heartbeat thrumming through her ears and the dizzying flurry of lights are no longer calming to look at. Everything feels intrusive including his movement and she slams her eyes shut terrified of opening them again. "I can't do this. Please, just leave me alone."
He stalls at the desperation in her voice and is close enough to see the light perspiration gleaming across her skin. Another couple of steps and he'd almost be in reach but fear keeps him rooted in place. "I know you're scared but you don't have to be..." he assures gently, trying to break through her panic, "I promised I'd never let anything bad happen to you, remember?"
His words sound like they're underwater but they jog something and she nods slowly at the blurry memory. It's not the only thing she remembers. He'd also said he loved her and then left. It shouldn't matter anymore but the guilt is almost as suffocating as the hurt. She'd pushed him for something that wasn't there. She'd broken them not him and a sob claws at her throat, her hand shaking violently as it moves to smother the sound. "I'm so sorry Harvey."
He doesn't know why she's apologising and uncertainty tears through him but his voice is soft and assertive as it lifts over the rumbling traffic below. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It's going to be okay you just need to come down."
She nods but the slight movements intensifies a flood of nonsensical thoughts and she screws her eyes shut again. She can feel reality slipping and clings onto her guilt like it's an anchor. "It wasn't your fault. I didn't... I thought... but I didn't, you couldn't-"
The mumbling is incoherent and his heart slams his rib-cage as he tries to keep her lucid. "Couldn't what?" She doesn't answer and he uses the lapse in her concentration to edge along the inside of the wall swallowing sharply when his foot slides over a loose tile. He catches himself, pressing her again. "I couldn't what Donna... what couldn't I do?"
For a brief second the clarity is overwhelming and she opens her eyes finding him through her confusion and smiling softly. "You couldn't love me Harvey."
The admittance stalls his clambering and forces the air from his lungs. He's spent the last fourteen goddamn years loving her but all that comes out is a harsh breath and defeated protest, "I.."
"It's okay." She says gently, "I shouldn't have expected you to." The closure is freeing and she isn't scared anymore. All she can feel is an airy lightheadedness and she blinks absorbing the warm numbness creeping in.
The resignation reverberates through him echoing against every stupid and selfish mistake he's made over the years. It's the doubt that hurts the most. The fact that somewhere along the way she lost faith in him and he falters, just for a moment, but when her eyes roll back he realises with a rush of panic that he isn't close enough to stop her from slipping.
xx
AN: I'm sorry this took so long! I really struggled trying to keep Donna in character while being out of character on drugs. I also wanted her train of thought to be a little confusing and sporadic so I hope it's not too hard to follow.
Sorry (not sorry) about a cliffhanger :P