NOTES: Beta'd. Thankyou so much to all the people who have reviewed. I'm in awe. XxX

Swearing in this. Think that its still a 'T'. No bad lady words though.

Break the Silence By Atheniandream

Chapter 3 – The Quest

We've come so far, it feels so real.
All this time, that we've waited for it.
And who we are, and where we're going to.
All this time, preparing for it. ~ A Sort of Revolution By FINK

As his eyes peeled open one at a time, his neck immediately feeling stiff, cracks and pops in his tense muscles ironed out as he turned over onto his back.

So, the sunshine was still here…

The whole day played in his head stopping flash forward to this very point.

Donna.

He suddenly sat up, noticing that she wasn't beside him, still warm and approachable. He was pretty sure her middle name was Elusive, not Elizabeth. Suddenly his stomach awoke to the smell of…was it…eggs? Sitting up slowly, remembering that eggs could possibly mean sulphur or methane gas; the errant and overly dramatic thought that she was burning down his apartment flashed in his mind until he dismissed this, frowning to get his bearings.

When he walked into the open-plan lounge he got a strange sense of living someone else's life; like he was Scott Baluka in an episode of Quantum Leap, watching a woman who was supposed to be his wife cook eggs in their kitchen with something for him to solve.

She looked very attractive, almost sporty in his running shirt, the sleeves of which she'd rolled up to the shoulder. The slacks hung on her small waist, made steady by her curvy hips as she crossed her ankles and lent against the counter top, stirring her coffee.

"Hey…" He said, none of the usual confidence in his voice as he lowered his head a little, waiting for the verbal blows.

"Before you assume anything, I'm here because I have no place else to go." She stated, face unreadable to him.

"Okay..." He wanted to say that she was welcome to stay, that he wanted her to stay, but instead he felt like it was possibly the best time for his mouth to stay shut. It didn't last long. "Have you let Rachel or your Dad know where you are?"

"They all know I'm okay… not where I am." She said, the edge creeping into her voice to match her blanched expression, which contrasted against her eyes; solid and unyielding.

"Okay. So, you're not going back to your apartment today, then?" He said, treading lightly over each word.

"Our Apartment." She corrected.

"What?" He said, not quite understanding.

"I moved. It was mine…and Carl's. Ours. As you can expect, I can't go back there…not for a while at least. My parents are about to leave in an hour. They feel uncomfortable staying in the Guest Room…even though Carl insisted. I said I'd go and see them back home… since I have a week off and nowhere to go." The sharp corners crept even more into her voice. Her eyes were now angry, seemingly unable to look at him for very long; her gaze flicking away from his until they finally rested on the black coffee cup now in her hands.

He just stood there, mouth agape, taking in all the information.

"Donna….I…."

She looked towards his lounge, cutting any apology he had down like a rotten tree.

"I'm wearing your clothes… well, I couldn't wear that dress anymore and my bag was in the boot of the Bridal Car. With everything else that was packed…for my Honeymoon…in Tuscany." She said, eyes rising to the pale ceiling, chin tilting to avoid spilling the tears that were leaning precariously on her eyelashes.

The whole situation bore down on him very heavily. He had literally ruined her life. It wasn't like some fairy tale; the Prince rescues the Princess and they live happily ever after. This fairy tale was turning into a modern nightmare; he had held the poisened apple and like a dipshit not even realised.

"If you need anything, help with anything I'll…I'll do it. I'm so..." He started. He couldn't bear to see her cry. She never cried and the last time he'd seen her cry it broke him into fractured little replicas of himself for days.

"You just didn't think, did you?" Her usual venom was laboured but her words still had a punch, the look of a woman who had so much of her supposedly organised life to sort out now. "You felt something and you had an Impulse and you did whatever you wanted to do….with NO thought of what it would do to me. I have nothing, Harvey… I have no keys, no house…possibly no job, after Jessica gets her teeth into us."

He wanted to tell her that she had him, but it wasn't right to tell her that, she'd only throw it away right now.

Instead he said "I'll handle Jessica." and hoped that he meant it.

"We both know when it comes to it, I handle Jessica." She snapped, shooting him down.

For the first time in their relationship she was completely unbridled. She wasn't his assistant, he wasn't her boss. They were just two people and she was a Supernova; 'balls to the wall' livid, contained within a knife edge worth of restraint. And rightly so; he felt like a prize prick. No wonder Rachel had tried to lecture him in the car. He'd had no idea what he'd been walking into; thinking that she just be very angry. She wasn't just very angry, she resented him. And he understood why. It was rare, once in a blue moon where he could understand how wrong he'd been. But the evidence, solid and raw and undeniable was mounting up around him.

This wasn't just a case of 'I love you and I'll see how this goes'.

Rachel was right, if he didn't step up he'd lose her forever. And she'd still be left with nothing. There didn't seem like a possible victory on either side. And this all coming from a guy who pissed 'Victory'...it was ridiculous.

The electrons must have finally fired up in his brain because his mouth suddenly had an answer.

"Donna, if you need to stay here, you stay. I'll take the couch, for as long as you need to; no… ulterior motives. If you need your things moved, or help with that - I know how you don't like removal men - then it's done. Whatever you need; breaking out of a tenancy lease; a deposit on a house...I am a lawyer. And I'm your Boss, I screwed up...I will not let you get fired again." He said, unsure if that was all he had but thankful that she'd let him finish.

That was probably the most he'd ever said to her in one go. In the ten, nearly eleven years he'd never once busted out a monologue or speech like that. Day for everything, he thought, taking a breath to regain some of his usual bravado enough to feel like him again. He looked up at her, waiting for a reply. Her features were still tense like she was sucking all the air out from her mouth and down her throat.

"I'm going for a shower," She finally said.

"Okay." He'd never been this accommodating in his entire life. In all honesty he was still stunned by her admission and deeply embarrassed at his whole days' worth of actions. But she was here, still, despite him ruining her current future. She hadn't left, hadn't gone to Rachel's or left with her Parents... a panic squirmed in his chest at the thought that she might actually leave with them today, in an hour; leave him and leave everything here without so much as talking about what happened.

"Harvey?" She suddenly called; the stubbornness at having to do so clear in her voice. "Could you come here?"

He walked slowly towards the bathroom, all trepidation gone when he saw her stood in just a bodice, his t-shirt over her head and wrapped over her front.

"I wish I didn't have to ask, but I can't undo the clasps on my own and its killing me." She said through gritted teeth, evident embarrassment on her face as she turned away from him.

Once he found the hook and eye, a fiddly little thing, he managed to undo them one by one, trying to avoid counting more freckles as they appeared in clusters around the middle of her back. He ignored the urge to run the underside of his hand and index finger down her exposed back.

Once completely undone, she noticed a split second of him staring. "Sorry." He muttered, oddly embarrassed, trying not to look her in the eye but not quite catching the impulse as she all but shut the door in his face.

His door. He sucked the air into his nostrils, and tried not to let it get to him.

He went back to the kitchen; noticing the eggs cooling in the silver saucepan; the one that he never used. Truth be told, he didn't use at least 92 percent of his kitchenware at the best of times. Maybe she'd actually make use of it for once? The thought warmed him as he poked at the eggs with a fork, his pre-set grimace levelling once he was assured that she could indeed cook; contrary to his former opinion, which birthed rather unpleasantly at her unspeakably colourful dinner party.

He dropped the fork into the sink with a clank. He was still hungry but he daren't take another bite; best not to ruin a woman's wedding, life and eat her eggs all in one day.

He found her in the lounge, staring numbly at the television after he had changed out of his Suit. He felt the impulse to run, literally, metaphorically and spiritually but he needed to know that she wasn't going to do another vanishing act whilst he was gone.

"I'm going out for a run," He gestured to the door until he realised that he was acting oddly out of character once more. "Are you going to be here when I get back or…?" he asked, trying to make it clear that he was hoping for the former rather than the latter.

He watched her mull over his statement, a flash of insolence appearing, until she settled on something much more devoid of emotion. "If not, I still have a key." she said, and turned back to the television.

"Okay. Good." He muttered and headed for the door without another word.

Running helped take the edge off, helped ease the weight of the guilt on his back; the slight chill in the air allowing him to breathe out that tension and vent the frustrations that he knew he shouldn't have.

It was only Saturday, but somehow, the usual spunk and zest for Mondays was now stripped away, leaving only room for doubt. The same feeling Hardman had encouraged in him when he'd made his second and third act appearances; as if the trouble was only starting before things would get better. When he'd joked about the oncoming storm he didn't think through the fact that his mind was eluding him to oncoming issues, things that had still yet to rear their ugly heads.

He suddenly remembered Donna's words; about fighting for something…love, that person, any person. He'd thought she'd been talking about her the whole time when really she was trying to make him see Scottie, see how they'd gotten it all so wrong. And even then he'd shipped her off, deciding that one betrayal was a betrayal too far. Even then he hadn't the foresight to fight for Scottie; he'd made her take a flight instead. A year on and that part of his life was still full of potholes.

This was going to take time. He felt like he couldn't ask her why she'd called it off; what it meant for them, if it meant anything for them; which in turn felt like the pinnacle of frustrating. He was finally in a place of wanting to know, wanting to plan, wanting to explore and yet he couldn't. And out of decency; out of not wanting to hurt her any more than he already had, he kept it in; all the questions he needed answers to. He wished for the time to come where he was allowed to say something without wanting to feel like it was a little too soon. Supposed advancement on their personal relationship seem to him, anything but 'a little to soon'. It was long overdue.

But he would have to wait. He tried not to think about the fact that he had actually broken two people up, and that maybe it wasn't so different from what his mother had done, save for the kids and actually making it to the reception part of the wedding. He'd always maintained the moral code that she'd broken. But was it that she had hurt his dad…or him? Had it been about secrets and betrayal, or the breaking down of a family? Or both?

He was now responsible for at least half of that in this mess.

He ran the rest of the journey in silence. The only thing that would turn this mess around was,

Donna.

But there was only person who could help him right now.

He hated not being able to shower after a run but this was important enough to forego that. He knocked and waited for the door to open.

"Did you run here?" Mike said, looking out towards the hall.

"I had a fifty on me. You got a beer?"

"Of course you did…couldn't you have bought beer?" He said, leaving the door open. "You just missed Rachel," he said, voice muffled by the fridge.

"Good." he called out to the kitchen.

"That's not nice," He said, a playful tone in his voice as he returned, shaking his head.

"No, no…" He batted away the implcation, swigging the beer and letting the cold bubbly numbness dull his frayed nerves. "It's just something she said. I don't want to have to tell her she was right."

"Why not? You love telling people that they're right...how out of character of you." Mike said, a mock serious tone poking fun at him.

Harvey merely glared back, sitting back on the leather couch, swigging his beer. This wasn't as comfy as the kid's last couch; the more lived-in' one, with holes from joints that the kid had smoked on them or questionable stains he hadn't been brave enough to ask about.

Since his Grammy had died and Mike had started receiving bonuses, Harvey had nudged him in the direction of a better apartment, in favour of him not having to travel quite so far. Now he was at least on the right side of the river, having given up a pokey, 'trying too hard to be trendy' dinge of a one-bed in a favour of a light and airy little two-bed with a cab fare that he could afford if he ever got off his bike long enough. However, in the past few months, Harvey had come to miss the old broken down warmth that they had spent some time in; especially as he couldn't now make fun of his interior decorating. Still had the Panda cross-stitch on the wall though: just for old time's sake he'd said.

They both knew his Grandma had given that to him. Or knitted it. Or both.

"Dare I ask how Donna is?" Mike winced over his beer, having some idea of the answer.

"Mike." He eyed him, but dismissed the thought of glaring. He'd done nothing wrong.

"She was living with him." Mike said quietly, letting the truth escape like a secret as he continued drinking his beer.

"How did you know and not think to tell me?" He asked, voice full of raw accusation.

"I only found out today, Harvey. Rachel just told me, I swear!" he said defensively, arms coming up to shield anymore accusations the older man had for him.

"It doesn't really make a difference anyway." He said, his voice sad for the first real time today.

"Is she talking to you?" Mike asked.

"Not really." He said, peeling the edge of his beer label as his features frowned inward.

"But she's still at yours?" He clarified, perching on the edge of the sofa.

"Honestly, Mike...I don't know. We'll see." He replied.

"Well, Louis, Rachel and I; we'll do anything we can to help at work, with Jessica, or slander or…wow, I never thought I'd hear myself say the words: Louis, Rachel and I."

"We're all stepping out of our comfort zones today," He said, a hint of his usual sarcasm creeping in. He knew Mike would bring him back to base eventually.

"You'll sort it out, Harvey. You guys just have to lay the groundwork, that's all." He nudged him with his beer.

"Is that a euphemism?" Harvey said, cocking an eyebrow.

"You take from that what you will." The youn man said, finishing his beer and grabbing a second.

I love writing Mike and Harvey Bromance 'Drink Beer' Time.