A/N: It's been a bit longer than usual, I know. I'm struggling with some physical and mental issues and it can be challenging to dive into the heavy issues of our beloved characters in this story. But have no fear, another chapter is here. It comes with a trigger warning for anxiety and PTSD. Please proceed with caution. Also if that is the case, a big hug for you. Our minds can be our biggest asset and enemy at the same time. As always a review is very much appreciated to keep me going on this one. And of course a shout out to Stef. For being the best beta and friend anyone could wish for.
.
Feels Like Home
Chapter 16
.
.
My arms are open
(You see me loud and clear)
.
.
All Mike hears for 30 seconds is ragged breathing. Harvey is bent over with his hands on his knees. He takes deep breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth. The elevator doors open on the ground floor when he realizes the call is still connected. He brings it to his ear, walking outside.
"Harvey, are you okay? Need me to recite some stats?"
I don't need you to recite anything, asshole, but he doesn't say it out loud. He pushes the end call button instead and starts to run as fast as his legs can carry him.
…
Bursting through the door, Harvey marches into the living room.
"Where is she?" he barks, looking around frantically.
Rachel timidly points to the open bedroom door.
Donna is sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into the mirror hanging on the wall.
Harvey approaches but she doesn't react. Gently, he crouches down in front of her.
Mike and Rachel follow him but halt in the doorway.
"She went from panic to this," Rachel whispers, her face pale and terrified.
Harvey registers it but can't and doesn't want to deal with it. He'll leave that to Mike. Who is also looking pretty shaken up. Inwardly, Harvey is seething and all he can think of right now is that it's what they deserve for blatantly ignoring his concerns.
"She's dissociating because the flashbacks this place triggers are too much to bear."
Harvey slowly grabs Donna's hand but she doesn't look at him. Her eyes are glazed over.
Rachel audibly gasps at Harvey's words, a hand clamps over her mouth.
"Have you witnessed this before?" Mike asks.
"No," Harvey responds. "But I have read a lot of information on PTSD and I know the techniques she uses to avoid ending up in this state."
Mike looks taken aback and places his arm around Rachel, pulling her in. She is crying quietly.
"Donna, can you hear me?" Harvey inquiries, squeezing her hand.
After what feels like forever, she answers. "Yes." Her voice is flat, monotone.
"Mike, grab some ice from the freezer." Harvey's voice is collected and demanding.
Mike runs away. "It's empty! The fridge is not working," he shouts a bit panicked.
Harvey mentally slaps himself. It was him that threw away the in-a-far-state-of-decomposition contents, defrosted the freezer, and pulled the plug weeks ago.
He knows the water isn't working either. Just the other day, he collected the mail and found a water bill that was far overdue by now, accompanied by a sanctioning letter of disconnecting the supply altogether. It was sitting in his briefcase, meaning to sort it out as soon as possible.
"Grab my briefcase," he tells Rachel. He had thrown it down in the hallway when he came in.
She does as told and he lets go of Donna's hand to rifle through its contents and pulls out a chocolate bar. He walked past this pop-up store this morning with all these unusual kinds of chocolate flavors. He bought one for Donna, knowing she gets a kick out of trying new ones.
He snaps off a piece of Chai Chocolate.
"Donna, I want you to melt this piece of chocolate on your tongue." He places it in her hand and wraps her fingers around it. "I need you to tell me what it tastes like, okay?"
Without acknowledging Harvey, Donna does as told. Her actions seem almost as if on autopilot.
Harvey is still sitting in front of her, hands on her knees, watching her intently, holding his breath as she rolls the piece of chocolate around with her tongue.
Suddenly tears are trickling down her cheeks. He squeezes her hands and she squeezes back. "It's slightly spicy," she tells him. He exhales loudly, closing his eyes briefly.
"What do you want me to do?" he asks her softly.
She looks him straight in the eye. They are the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen. He feels an overwhelming urge to kiss her eyelids and kiss her tears away but he holds himself back.
"A hug would be nice," she croaks and he smiles. That he can do. He reaches up a hand to wipe away her tears with his thumb before pulling her to her feet, enveloping her in a tight hug that settles his squirming insides as much as hers.
He looks to the left to see Mike and Rachel in pretty much the same position, holding on to each other. Visibly shaken up by this.
"I want to go home," Donna mumbles into his chest and he nods.
"Yes, let's go."
Neither Mike nor Rachel dares to address the elephant in the room that Donna is home. They watch quietly as Harvey gathers Donna's handbag, pulling her to the exit holding her hand. He turns around and throws something at Mike who catches the key.
"Since you could let yourself in, you can let yourselves out, can you?"
And he disappears round the corner with Donna, leaving their dumbfounded friends staring after them.
…
"So to summarize," Hilli says as she pushes her glasses higher on her nose. "You went to your apartment with two of your friends. You had a panic attack followed by flashbacks which caused you to dissociate."
Donna nods. "It was awful. I never want to experience that again." She wrings her hands. "I cried for like an hour when we came home and slept about twelve hours straight afterward."
"Keeping your anxiety at bay, avoiding triggers, pushing down flashbacks, being on high alert for threats, it's all exhausting."
Donna winces as Hilli sums it all up. She had made quite some progress lately but right now she felt like a basket case all over, one that was never going to live a normal life again.
"The road to recovery is never straight, Donna. It will be two steps forward, one step back." Hilli senses Donna's frustration with herself.
"This feels like a thousand steps back."
"You said the panic attack happened once you were inside right? Am I correct in assuming the flashback was about that room too?"
Donna bobs her head slowly.
"So you didn't get triggered by the hallway. We've been working on those images of Mrs. Kiriakas there."
Donna suddenly perks up a bit. She fumbles with the bun on top of her head. "You know I hadn't even realized that yet."
"Let's move along to images inside the apartment next then. But this emergency session isn't for EMDR. We'll tackle that in line with our session schedule." Hilli looks Donna up and down. "I know yesterday was far from a positive experience but really there was a small victory in it anyway. We just keep working on your triggers one by one." Hilli sounds very reassuring. "Now, why did you take Mike and Rachel to your apartment?"
Donna gives her a dumbfounded look. Scrunching up her nose, she answers, "You told me not to go alone?"
"Well yes, I expected you to go with Harvey," Hilli states. "He's been with you every step of the way so far." Hilli stretches her legs in front of her, tapping a pen against her notebook.
Donna plucks her lips a bit flabbergasted. She had deliberately chosen not to take Harvey. Shuffling awkwardly in her seat she doesn't say anything.
"What's happening with you and Harvey?"
"Nothing," Donna deflects. Hilli says nothing and just stares at her. She knows her therapist has all the patience in the world to win this one so she gives in with a sigh. "We've just become close. Like really close." Donna chews on her cheek. Seeing Hilli's eyebrows raise she hastily adds, "Nothing has happened. And Harvey didn't do or say anything that isn't appropriate. I want to be clear on that. But my friends did point out to me that our behavior is very couple-like."
"And that is a problem, why?" Hilli pushes, frantically jotting down notes. "I'm sure there are a lot of close friends who are mistaken for a couple by the outside world. As long as you know the truth?"
"Story of our lives," Donna mutters. She inhales deeply through her nose before expelling a loud breath.
"I'm sensing there is something more," Hilli makes a rotating gesture with her hand, "here. Otherwise, you wouldn't have made the drastic decision of not involving Harvey in this after a harmless comment from your friends. Because you two were already close before this happened. He was listed as an emergency contact in your phone."
"It's complicated."
"We've got thirty more minutes, try me," Hilli urges.
Rubbing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose, Donna starts to relay their history. She shows the woman all her cards and leaves nothing out. From the other time, to love me how and Harvey's panic attacks, to her kissing Harvey and him dating his therapist.
Hilli sits quietly, listening, not saying anything until Donna is finished. She isn't entirely surprised. One look at Harvey at the intake told her enough. She wants to tell Donna that a few sessions together with him will sort them out but she keeps it to herself. She also refrains from asking for the therapist's name to not stir the pot right now but she files the question away for a later moment. "How is Harvey doing?" she asks instead.
Donna clutches her chest with her left hand. She slightly shakes her head. "I…don't know," she answers truthfully.
"I can safely assume he won't seek the help of his previous therapist." Hilli rolls her eyes. "Tell him I can give him the name of another trustworthy therapist if he would like. This kind of situation is always hard for carers and if they have anxiety issues of their own."
Donna nods meekly. "This is one of the reasons I pushed myself to go to my building and I went without him. He's sacrificing too much for me. I need to be able to live at my own place again. Get my anxiety out of his face so he can live in peace again." She chews on her cheek so hard she draws blood.
"I think if Harvey were here he'd tell you he feels very differently. But that is a conversation you need to have with him." Hilli leans forward. "Is the closeness between you and Harvey making you feel anything?"
"Besides safe and nurtured?"
Hilli nods.
"I suppose it could but I have no space in my head to let it come out and deal with it."
"Is Harvey crossing any lines or taking advantage?"
"No," Donna answers immediately.
"Are you capable enough to judge that correctly?"
"Yes," Donna says resolutely.
"I think so too." Hilli smiles. "So why, if it makes you feel safe and dare I say loved, are you acting so drastically after a few comments from Mike and Rachel?"
Donna swallows hard. She feels called out and maybe even a bit silly that the words of her friends had impacted her so hard.
"They said given our history our situation isn't healthy and combined with me feeling a burden already." Donna hunches up her shoulders, feeling vulnerable.
"I think your history is what makes you feel safe enough to venture out into this world at the moment, with him by your side. You have made tremendous progress in a short space of time and I'm willing to presume you would be in a different shape without him. So my advice would be to embrace it and thank your lucky stars to have a friend like Harvey."
Donna casts her eyes down to the floor. She feels told off and ungrateful.
"Oh chin up, Donna. I think one conversation with Harvey will clear the air immediately," Hilli booms positively.
"I should have seen this one myself." Donna's voice is annoyed.
"No, that's what you pay me for." Hilli winks.
"I have never paid a bill from you yet." Donna's eyes grow wide.
Hilli coughs. "Conversation with Harvey, Donna."
Donna scoffs. "Clearly." She gets up from the couch to leave the room.
"Oh, Donna," Hilli calls after her. "You need to consider the option that your apartment might never be a safe space again, no matter how many images we tackle with EMDR."
…
Opening the door, Harvey tries to close it again immediately. "You can march yourself right out my building, I have no intention of talking to you," he says, making a walking gesture with his fingers when Mike puts the palm of his hand on the door.
"Harvey, please. Before we fly back home we want to apologize." Rachel looks at him with genuine regret in her eyes.
Her silent plea seems to have the desired effect. Harvey walks back into his condo leaving the door open. "If you're coming for Donna, she isn't here."
He sits down on his couch. Mike and Rachel halt at the kitchen counter. On the coffee table are two glasses, a half-finished game of scrabble, and an empty tub of Chunky Monkey with two spoons.
"That's unfortunate. We really want to talk to her," Mike says, eyeing the table. There is so much more to it than meets the eye.
"Yeah well, what can I say? She needed an emergency session with her therapist," Harvey says gruffly.
Rachel flinches and Mike shuffles awkwardly on his spot.
"Look Harvey, we misjudged the situation." Mike scratches his neck. "We all know how you feel about Donna. We thought you weren't able to see the bigger picture anymore."
Harvey narrows his eyes. "Let me get this straight. You come here to apologize but accuse me of putting my needs first?" Harvey gives a frustrated shake of his head. "You know you haven't actually said I'm sorry yet," he points out. "And tell me." He gives the duo a bitter smile. "How do I feel about Donna?"
"You've made your feelings for Donna unequivocally clear when—" Mike starts.
"We're sorry," Rachel blurts out quickly when the door slams shut.
Donna walks in, raising her eyebrows at the three of them.
"We shouldn't have made you go to your apartment," Rachel continues, looking Donna in the eye.
"You didn't make me do anything. It was my choice. My choice to go and my choice to take you two." Donna takes off her shoes and tosses them aside.
Harvey frowns. He hates footwear strewn around and Donna knows and respects that.
"Can you all stop talking about me as if I am some delicate little thing that can't be held accountable for her own decisions?" Donna takes her fruit salad out of the fridge and slams down the bowl a little too loudly.
"Still, some things were said." Rachel looks at Donna intently. "We shouldn't have." She gives her husband a subtle dig in the ribs.
Mike nods. "Right. We overstepped our mark and we are sorry." He looks at Harvey directly.
Harvey grimaces in return but his focus is really on Donna. Mike and Rachel take it as their cue to go. With a quick hug and promise to text when arriving home they leave the condo.
Donna is frantically stabbing the pieces of strawberries when Harvey places his hand on her arm.
"No fruit deserves this kind of anger, especially not strawberries."
He leads her away from the counter, pulling her down on the couch.
The dam immediately bursts. "Have you been paying for my therapy sessions?" she inquires.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because they needed to be paid," Harvey replies matter of factly.
"You could have brought it to my attention. It is my therapy. I don't see why you would need to cough that up."
Harvey's eyebrows squish together. "Donna, you know I don't care about the money and I absolutely don't mind sharing it with you."
"Well, you've spent enough on me. It needs to stop," Donna says stubbornly.
"Haven't we had this conversation before?" Harvey heaves a heavy sigh.
"That was me pitching in here but these are my own bills."
"Donna, the first one arrived in week three of you living here. You weren't thinking about paying bills and this one was necessary to keep going with therapy. I've brought back numerous envelopes every time I collected your mail but you didn't give them any attention."
Donna narrows her eyes to say something but Harvey isn't finished.
"Which is totally understandable but some things couldn't wait. I paid your premiums to keep your insurances. I couldn't find any mortgage-looking items so I assumed you followed my advice to not blow every penny of your bonuses on handbags but pay off your house instead."
Donna fiddles the zipper of the vest she is wearing up and down, nodding to confirm Harvey's words.
"I left all other items because they didn't seem urgent and I didn't want to open anything I didn't recognize as such but the other day an envelope with bold letters arrived from your water company. They disconnected the water. That is why we couldn't give you any when you were having your attack. So forgive me that I went ahead and paid it so it will be restored again. They assured me this morning they will do that right away. I was going to swing by tomorrow to check if they did."
Donna's posture shrinks as she hunches up her shoulders.
"I thought I had everything important set up as automatic debit payments. And I guess I didn't care very much. I haven't tracked payments since I've been here." Donna's cheeks go crimson red. "None of this has crossed my mind. My apartment is such an anxiety-inducing subject that I pushed this all to the back of my brain." She clamps her mouth. "There's food in my fridge and cupboards that is probably on its way to becoming a mold infestation that will take over my entire kitchen." She grabs her phone. "I should hire someone to take care of that before it is all over the apartment."
Harvey takes the phone from her hands. "No need to go all frantic now. I tossed everything out and unplugged your fridge three weeks into this thing."
Donna's features go soft. "Harvey! You do way too much."
"I promised I'd take care of you. I am."
"Thank you but I'm taking control again. I will go through my mail and pay everything that needs to be paid from now on. I also want to pay for my share around here."
Harvey purses his lips. "That's what you take away from all this?" He lets himself fall back against the backrest. "That you need to pay to be here?"
"That I am a huge burden to you, yes."
"Donna!" A sharp tone to Harvey's voice.
"I am," she cries. "You've got a more than full-time job at the office and now you're stuck with me. So self-absorbed that I don't even think about paying my bills. I don't think about your well-being every time you need to drag me from the hell that is my mind, you've made me a salad for 92 days straight because I don't always eat otherwise. This is ridiculous." Her voice is rising with every word but so are the tears threatening to spill.
"No, this is you having PTSD and me being the friend you need." Harvey remains calm and collected. He takes her hand and starts tracing lines in the palm of her hand. "What's going on in that beautiful head of yours, huh?" he pushes gently.
Donna is confused about his mention of friend and beautiful in a five-second time bracket but she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, swallows a lump, and starts telling him.
"I'm asking too much from you. Taking too much of your time."
"I never said anything to suggest that."
"You had that whole period of staying at the office until midnight. Asking other people to hang out with me."
Harvey stops tracing for a second. For all the things she isn't aware of at the moment she did notice that.
"I—" he stammers. "Trust me that had a whole other reason."
Donna searches his face but he is adamant to not give this one away.
"Anyway, you've got anxiety of your own and don't need me rubbing mine in your face."
Realization dawns on Harvey's face. "Is this why you took Mike and Rachel and not me?"
"Partly, yes."
He shakes his head. "You don't need to worry about me. I'm fine. I don't have anxiety in my daily life."
Donna pulls back her hand. "I don't believe that."
"I did go to therapy for it, remember?"
"Oh, I remember," Donna mutters.
"My panic attacks have a specific trigger. I learned to recognize them and to squash them down in time. It's not out there snoozing around all day every day."
He eyes her, continuing carefully.
"Your anxiety is trauma-induced and since your trauma is still very much at the forefront at the moment, so is your anxiety."
"Hmm," Donna considers his words. "Did therapy make your attacks go away?"
Harvey briefly closes his eyes. His gaze goes to the balcony outside, to his hands he's wringing together. "I—" He never meets her eyes. Then he gives a soft shake of his head.
"Harvey, what's your trigger?" she presses. Her jaw set, trying to meet his gaze.
He grits his teeth, pressing his lips tight.
"I think you already know."
"Then just tell me." Donna reaches out to touch his arm.
"You, my trigger is you." He looks her straight in the eyes. He rubs the side of his face. "They started when you left me for Louis." His voice is low. "And they ended—"
"When I came back," she finishes for him.
His silence is louder than any words he could have spoken.
"Have you had any since?" Donna squeezes his arm. "Recently perhaps?"
He knows what she is doing and he knows she will use it to confirm her idea of burdening him. But he can't lie, not to her.
His chin drops to his chest, his Adam's apple bobs visibly. It tells her all she needs to know.