I got a disease, deep inside me... makes me feel uneasy baby.
I can't live without you, tell me what I am supposed to do about it?
- Matchbox 20, Disease
Harvey closes his laptop about to leave when his suit pocket suddenly vibrates and he takes out the phone smiling at Donna's name on the caller ID. She's only been gone an hour and he swipes across the screen with his thumb, bending down to pick up his computer case. "Hey... missing me already?"
[You wish.]
He smirks at the response shrugging the cell between his ear and shoulder so he can jimmy the laptop into its bag. "What's up?"
[I'm home but the lock on my door is jammed. I don't think I can get it open again.]
The zipper is half-way round when he stops, a sigh working from his mouth. "Donna, I told you to get that damn thing fixed weeks ago."
[Do you think you'll be much longer? I could really use your help.]
"I was just leaving." He finishes closing the bag slapping the velcro strap in place but a folder open on his desk draws his attention. He'd completely forgotten to go over the highlighted sections before tomorrow morning and winces reaching to pick up the file with a distracted shrug. "I'll come round. Did you still want me to grab Thai or..."
[No it's okay, we can order something from yours.]
"Okay." He nods only half paying attention as he skims through the document in his hands. The meeting he needs it for isn't until nine. If he gets up at six he can still go for a run and be in the office with enough time to make any necessary alterations.
[Harvey, don't forget to sign off on the Loderman case. It's important]
"Yep..." he mutters into the phone, "see you-"
She hangs up before he finishes and his attention shifts from the highlighted paragraphs to the blank screen of his phone. She'd said something about Loderman and he racks his brain trying to remember where he knows the name from. It isn't a client case. All she asked him to do was sign off on Ducati and a sense of unease rolls through him; Donna doesn't make mistakes.
The notion hovers and he googles Loderman scrolling down the results until he recognizes an article from when they were still working together in the DA's office. Curiosity drives him to click it open and the details come flooding back stirring a flutter of panic. Johnny Loderman had been arrested for embezzlement and had tried to exact revenge on members of the court. The opposing council had been drugged (aka Barnaby Joice's motivation) and the judge had been taken hostage in his own home before Loderman was finally caught and detained.
Assuming the worst is a stretch but the slip up is far too random for to be a coincidence and he goes back to what he does know; Donna doesn't make mistakes. It rings through his head again, his pulse drumming faster as he thinks back to their brief conversation. She asked for his help but he'd been going on about her lock for weeks now and she'd never give him such an easy opportunity to gloat. She'd god damn climb down the fire escape first and fear tightens in his chest.
His first instinct to call her back but he holds off, dialing the police instead.
If he's wrong he'll wear the embarrassment but his gut is adamant and he grips the phone tightly, waiting to be put through to Sargent Grace Keaton the detective in charge of the case. She's quick to assure him they have no reason to believe Barnaby Joice is in the country and her skepticism almost makes him doubt the hunch but he doesn't let it go. He has connections in the force, friends all over the place, and the weight of his reputation works in his favor. Keaton agrees to check the traffic camera's near Donna's apartment block and he hangs up pacing back and forth in the small confines of his office. It feels like an eternity he's left waiting until she finally returns the call, her hardened voice confirming his fear, and a black haze seeps across his vision as she details Joice entering the apartment block and Donna arriving an hour later; neither have left since.
She tells him to stay put, let the police do their job, and he manages to compose himself enough to tell her he doesn't give a fuck about protocol. That it's his girlfriend being held hostage and if they won't involve him they can go to hell; he'd beat them to her apartment anyway. It's not an idle threat but he's surprised when the sergeant tells him the briefing is in twenty minutes and to haul ass down to the station.
He get's there in fifteen.
...
...
It takes one hour, thirteen minutes and forty-seven seconds since the time Donna called until Harvey's positioned outside her door going through the negation crash course he received. His job is to give the police eyes on the inside, get the curtain open if he can, and don't do anything to draw fire. Bullshit. His only responsibility is getting Donna out of harms way and he smooths down the wireless listening device under his shirt knocking with a sharp inhale.
She calls out a moment later, telling him it's open, and he's never been more relieved to hear the sound of her voice.
Showtime.
"I thought you said the lock was-" he stops midday through the act, the hesitation real as a gun thrusts toward him.
"Close it, quickly." Barnaby instructs watching the lawyer do as he's told. It feels good, powerful, and he trains the weapon back on the redhead sitting beside him. "You know it's incredibly rude to keep a lady waiting."
Harvey's gaze snaps to Donna his eyes running over her to make she isn't hurt. There's no visible injuries he can see but her pale face and tightly pulled lips indicate she's scared and anger rushes over his concern. He has no idea what she's been through, what Joice did or said, but the stubborn determination set in her jaw makes him tear away to confront the gunman. The police warned him not to make demands but primal instinct takes over hardening his glare. "She leaves now, this has nothing to do with her."
"Maybe not directly." Barnaby admits flicking the safety off his weapon and jamming it into her shoulder. "Problem is killing you would be over in a few minutes and you owe me fifteen years worth of suffering so I found a way to compromise."
"You son of a bitch." He starts forward without thinking and Barnaby retaliates grabbing Donna roughly by the arm and pulling her out of the chair. He freezes immediately anxiety slamming through him as Joice uses her to shield his body.
Shit.
He just blew any chance of getting to the window and put her in more danger. He needs to be smarter, negotiate not threaten, and he exhales sharply. "You want to hurt me, there are ways to do that which don't involve going to prison..." he tries to reason, "Drake is going to make a full recovery. Any lawyer with half a degree could get the charges against you reduced so you don't serve time."
"Like your boy Mike Ross-" Barnaby fires back his eyes wild with accusation, "that's right, we all heard how the great 'god' Harvey Specter let someone who wasn't even practicing represent his clients. You think you're better than me but you don't give a shit about the law, all you care about is winning."
Donna winces as his nails bite into her arm but she keeps still terrified any reaction will tip Harvey's composure. She knows he figured it out before coming over. To anyone else his impassive features would be impossible to read but the restraint is what tipped her off. What she can't tell is why he's here, if sheer stupidity drove his impulses or if he has a plan. She hopes to god it's the latter and breathes in slowly, readying herself for any distraction or opportunity to fight back.
"You want to see me lose, I'll turn myself in. Coerced or not there's enough evidence to have me disbarred." Harvey challenges him, the surrender going against everything his reputation is built on. It doesn't leave an out. He has too many enemies who would make sure it destroyed his career (despite the circumstances) but his hand lifts to his pocket regardless. "I'll call a judge right now-"
"Don't move!"
The gun trains on him and his fingers stall along the inner edge of his suit jacket. It's what he wants, the attention on him not Donna, but Barnaby sees straight through it and grabs her more tightly readjusting his aim toward her chest. Panic drives Harvey's reaction and he quickly withdraws his hand flattening his palms in defense.
A twisted laugh coils in Barnaby's throat at the easy manipulation. "You don't care half as much about your career as you think you do." His tone turns sour as he admonishes the fact, "not like I cared about H&B Carter. I would have given anything to make that my own."
He'd worked tirelessly for years and for what? To have it all taken away because some pompous lawyer couldn't mind his own god damn business. He was so close and sneers at the man pulling Donna back, "she's the only thing worth taking away from you!" They hit the edge of the display shelf causing a lamp to smash on the floor and Donna chokes out a sob as the gun jams into her temple.
The sound tears through Harvey and white hot fury sparks every nerve ending in his body. The emotion is all he has left to negotiate with and his voice takes on a dangerous edge making sure Barnaby fucking knows it. "You're right I don't give a shit what the law says. If you hurt her I will kill you."
The hatred blazing in his eyes makes Donna tense and goosebumps wash over skin as Barnaby's breath blows hotly against her neck. It isn't an idle threat. The anger radiating from Harvey is uncontrolled mixing with clear desperation and she's terrified it's going to make him do something stupid. "Harvey-"
Barnaby's hand clamps over her mouth preventing the plea from slipping out and she watches reckless abandonment snap in Harvey's gaze. She wants to scream at him not to act on it, that it's going to get him killed, but all she can do is muffle the protest as she tries to pull away.
Rage blinds Harvey to everything except the rough manhandling and every possessive urge running through him demands he make it stop. He once told Mike to consider all the options when a gun is being pointed and figuratively or literally doesn't make a damn bit of difference. People react to being threatened, even when they're holding the weapon, and he charges forward watching it jerk toward his chest in retaliation.
Donna feels Barnaby's grip loosen and takes the opportunity shoving his arm as hard as she can and flinging her head back to connect with his jaw. It makes a sickening crack and instinct drives her to roll his body over her shoulder just like her self-defense instructor taught her. It works and he drops with a heavy grunt but the gun doesn't dislodge from his grip and she stares down the barrel rooted in place when he squeezes the trigger.
The shot rings out and a force barrels into her side knocking her to the ground. She lands hard with with Harvey's weight pressing on top of her and barely registers a loud commotion and shouting bursting through the apartment. All she can hear is a pained wheeze coming from above her and she rolls out from underneath him, fear lodging in her throat as she frantically searches for the source of his panic. There's a bullet hole but no blood and her hands fly to his stomach coming into contact with a stiff padding beneath her fingertips.
Harvey flinches, winded from the impact and the intense pain radiating through his abdomen. If this is what not getting shot feels like he can only image it without the vest on and he gasps in a vain attempt to take in air, catching a flash of Grace Keaton suddenly helping to remove the constriction. As soon as it lifts his lungs burn in relief and he sits up coughing through a rush of dizziness. "Could've... warned me-" he chokes out, hand massaging his chest to help regulate his breathing.
"You'll be fine, just take a minute." Grace coaches him placing a light pressure on his shoulder, "and I did warn you. I said don't get shot." She's going to have her ass handed to her for breaking just about every rule in the book but figures the outcome was worth the risk. Besides, she has one of the best lawyers in NYC to represent her free of charge. "Mr. Joice is being taken into protective custody and there are paramedics downstairs waiting to check you both out." She directs her gaze up to the redhead with a gentle expression. "Miss Paulsen, aside from the obvious, are you okay?"
Donna shakes her head fighting back a rush of emotions. It feels like her heart is about to explode through her chest and she wants to scream at the women for letting Harvey put himself in danger but the anger doesn't reach passed the panic still knotted in her throat. She can't keep from staring the vest, the mangled bullet still wedged in the Kevlar, and she startles when Harvey suddenly pulls it from her sight sliding it across to the sergeant.
"Could you give us a minute?" He asks Keaton, gratitude reflecting in his gaze when she takes the object giving a slight nod. He doesn't register her leaving, too focused on Donna, but before he can voice his concern she slaps him hard across the face.
"Jesus Christ, Donna!" He rubs the painful sting eyes blazing with confusion but the moisture she's holding back wanes his reaction. She wasn't the only one scared shitless and he lets go of the annoyance sweeping her up into his arms. She instantly engages the contact wrapping her hands fiercely around his neck and he squeezes her tightly feeling the wetness against his bare skin. The bruise on his abdomen burns in protest but he ignores the discomfort grasping her hair and breathing in the comfort. If it weren't for the authorities still milling around he would keep them like that for longer, maybe even hours, but he reluctantly draws back bracing his hands over her shoulders.
"I'm sorry." She shakes her head wiping her eyes. "I shouldn't have called, I shouldn't have put you in danger like that I-"
"Hey, stop it..." he orders gently, "look at me."
She does, her expression filling with regret and his gaze turns serious. "You did the right thing."
"You got shot Harvey." She throws back unable to keep from going over in her mind. What if he hadn't figured it out or called the police, what if the bullet had missed the vest? It was pure luck he hadn't gotten himself killed and she can't shake the overwhelming guilt.
He watches her pale and his own regret rushes to the surface, his hand lifting to brush the stray tears from her cheek. "You got dragged into this because of me. None of it was your fault and I don't ever want to hear you say that." Twice now Barnaby has used his feelings against him but he refuses to see it as weakness. There was a time he would have but tonight showed they're stronger together and he hooks his thumb under the line of her with a soft sigh. "If anything had happened to you I never would have forgiven myself. You know that."
She does and tries to swallow the lump resting in her throat. She saw what Mike going to prison did to him, even the guilt he felt after she was drugged. He wouldn't have ever gotten over it and the notion winds in her chest as she grabs his shirt helping him slide into it. Up until now he's been the one making all the gestures; saying he loved her, that he wants a future together, and her fingers catch on the small tear of fabric. She's been afraid to tell him she wants the same things but being forced to imagine a life without out him is more terrifying than the idea of admitting how she feels. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." She glances up, her voice shaky as it lands between them, "I couldn't... I can't-"
She stops under the weight of the words and empathy twitches in his chest. He knows what she's trying to say and pushes the hair back from her shoulder with a gentle squeeze. "You didn't lose me. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere."
She nods and when he leans in closes her eyes tasting the saltiness on his lips. She doesn't want to wait anymore. She wants every moment to count even if that means telling people and when he breaks the kiss she rests her head against the reassuring heartbeat thudding in his chest.
No more holding back.
This is where their next chapter starts.
AN: I only have the epilogue left and that makes me sad lol so I'm thinking a sequel of some sort?