A/N: I always try to research and authenticate my stories as much as possible to keep them realistic, but I'm not a lawyer, so I apologize for any mistakes whatsoever.


"That's the fourth apartment we've looked at today, Harvey. You seriously haven't liked any of them," Donna grouses as they descend the stairs from the building. Her feet are aching, and she runs a tired hand through her hair. "I'm starting to believe this is about something else."

"I just don't think that condo is suitable for a child," Harvey declares when they come to a stop on the pavement. "That kitchen countertop was way too sharp."

Donna snorts. "Lucy's six months old. I don't think we'll have to worry about the countertops for a few years."

He huffs out a breath as if annoyed or frustrated, shuffling his feet. She sighs and clasps her hand around his wrist, waiting until his troubled eyes raise to meet her own.

"If you're worried about what the doctor said this morning, you know she wouldn't allow us to take Lucy if—"

"Donna… That's not…"

"Then what is it, Harvey?"

He scuffs his shoes against some loose stones on the pavement. "The damn trial," he hisses. "It's the first time I don't know what to say… I don't even know where to begin." He takes a deep breath, watching Donna's face turn soft.

"You're worried about your opening statement," she concludes. "Why? Because of Louis?" She snuggles, rubbing her chin against his shoulder as she strokes her thumb gently over his skin, trying to soothe him. "It's okay to get a little emotional, you know." Then she smirks at him. "Even for you, Mr. I'm-so-hardcore."

He eyes her sideways, unable to fight back the smirk that's forming on his lips. "I'm serious, Donna. Last night, when I thought about what I wanna say, I…" He halts, and that pause lasts so long that Donna starts to wonder if he's ever going to continue. But then— "Just thinking about Louis made me cry. I can't be this person in court."

"Harvey, I asked you if you could handle this and you said you were fine," she reprimands him.

"Well, maybe I lied," he snaps.

"Hey," she says calmly, ignoring his harsh tone, "I'm just worried about you."

"I'm sorry," he sighs, "I didn't want to…"

"I know."

"Mourning Dad, Mom… it felt different," Harvey murmurs, letting out a shaky breath. "I could keep my grief out of the courtroom and just focus on doing my job. But this is Louis. And Lucy…" He squeezes his eyes shut, willing back the tears threatening to spill over. "They deserve the best version of myself, not this…" he chokes out a self-deprecating laugh, "… grieving wreck."

"Stop it," Donna says, tightening the grip around his wrist. "Have you ever considered the fact that maybe this is exactly what this case needs?"

"What do you mean?"

"Two people are dead because of that man. A child is now parentless. They deserve justice, Harvey. And I don't think anyone in that courtroom will judge you for showing emotions. Because who wouldn't? It's human."

Donna pauses to swallow.

"If you can't fight back those tears during your opening statement, don't try. This isn't about some carefully constructed persona, Harvey. It's about you being you, even if it means showing a little vulnerability. That's the Harvey Specter the jury needs to see." She raises on her tiptoes, feathering her lips across his cheek. "You are trying to be yourself. That's all that matters."

"Thank you," he breathes.

He turns to hug her, his arm encircling her waist and pulling her to him so that he holds her soft body fast to his muscular frame. He brushes her forehead in a light kiss, exhaling deeply through his nose, and rests his chin on her head.

"And I wasn't lying, Donna. I can handle the pressure," he reassures her. "But I might need your help."

"What can I do for you?" she asks, grinning slightly as she adds, "Get the can opener?"

He laughs – how good it feels to just laugh about something silly – but then his expression becomes serious.

"I know I said I'd understand if you don't wanna be present in court," he mumbles. "Those photos… from the scene… the police report... hearing every detail about Louis' final moments… It's gonna be brutal, and I…" He trails off, his gaze pleading. "I won't pressure you into doing something you don't want to do, but…"

"I told you I'd have to think about it."

"I know," he sighs. "And I said you should take all the time you need to decide, but I can't face this alone, Donna. I need you with me in that courtroom. You know I can't be me… without you."

"Yeah, I've heard that before," she smiles sweetly.

She's silent for a few moments and just looks at him. His eyes are begging, like a beaten dog's. His voice would have broken had he risked another word – and all she can think of is how deeply in love with him she is.

"Of course I'll be there, Harvey," she then says softly. "But I need you to do something for me, too."

"Anything," he replies without hesitation.

"I want you to see a grief counselor," she tells him, her voice laced with a gentle urgency. "With me. I want us to go together."

First he looks shocked – confused – then realization dawns on Harvey's face. It doesn't surprise Donna. He's been so focused on Lucy and the case, of course, he hasn't even considered seeking help for himself.

"Grief counselor?" The words come out clipped. "Donna, I appreciate the concern," he assumes a tone of defiance, "but I don't need a stranger to analyze my feelings."

"It's not about analyzing, Harvey," Donna counters, her voice taking on a firm yet gentle tone. "It's about having a safe space to process everything that's happened."

She lets out an exasperated breath.

"We're both carrying a lot, perhaps more than we realize, and then there's Lucy. She'll be living with us soon, and… And talking to someone who specializes in grief, someone who isn't personally involved, might be just what we need to move forward."

Her gaze softens with understanding as she meets his eyes. She knows how much he still struggles with this, but— "Bottling it all up won't help either of us heal. We have to find a way to navigate this whole mess. And grief counseling, I think, is a good start."

"I'm not exactly bottling things up. You've seen me, haven't you? We've talked a lot about it. I have talked a lot about how I feel. Just now I told you—"

"I know you have, honey," she says, smiling at him as she cups her hands around his face. "And believe me, I'm infinitely so proud of you for opening up to me. But there's a difference between venting to the one person you trust implicitly and actually processing this… all of it. A therapist could offer a neutral perspective."

Harvey considers this for a moment, his jaw clenched, a battle raging behind his eyes.

The idea of a stranger poking and prodding at the raw, exposed mess of his emotions, of laying bare his soul to them and reliving the gaping hole Louis' absence left behind feels… intrusive. Invasive. Like having a stranger rummage through his most private belongings.

Besides, therapists haven't exactly been a success story in his past. In fact, most attempts at vulnerability ended in disappointment, leaving him feeling more exposed than understood. And then, of course, there was Paula…

And yet, a part of him recognizes the truth in Donna's words. He is functioning, throwing himself into work and the case, but is he truly healing?

"Please, just think about it?" Donna pleads with him, his silence making her heart clench. "Please, Harvey."

As he stares at her, hands fumbling with the hem of her shirt, the vulnerability in her voice seems to chip away at his resistance. His hard expression starts to crumble, and she feels as though he's taking several steps back from his initial reaction.

"Fine," he finally concedes, the word a ragged sigh escaping his lips. "I'll consider it. But..." he hesitates, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "don't expect any miracles."

"Thank you," she sighs with relief, her fingertips whispering a caress across his cheeks.

"A few months into this marriage and we're already going to couples therapy…" Harvey says, a playful glint in his eyes that softens the edges of his grumble.

Donna smiles, brushing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. "You know it's not the same thing," she replies. "But hey, if that's what it takes for Harvey Specter to finally admit he needs a little help processing his emotions, then who am I to argue?"

He shakes his head in amusement, then hooks his arms around Donna's waist, locking her in his embrace. A long, drawn-out sigh leaves him, and he smiles, except his smile is more of a grimace.

"I'm sorry, I'm such a damn piece of work," he murmurs.

"But you're my piece of work," Donna croons. "And I accept you, Harvey… Every. Single. Thing. That makes you who you are."

Harvey tilts her chin up, and the kiss that follows is a world away from their usual heated encounters. It is a gentle, almost chaste thing, with no demanding passion behind it, just raw tenderness.

After that brief, searing touch, he pulls away, forehead resting against hers. Slowly, he smiles at her.

"I like this one."

"Hm?"

"The condo… We should get this one," he speaks up, nodding towards the building's entrance they exited earlier. "It's perfect for us, Donna. You, me… Lucy." He smiles at her even more heartily than before and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

"So, that kitchen countertop wasn't too sharp after all," Donna grins.

"Lucy's six months old. I don't think we'll have to worry about the countertops for a few years," Harvey repeats her words, a bit teasingly.

"You know, I actually think that lovely lady who showed us around had a little crush on you," she teases him back.

"Funny you mention it, because I was under the impression she had a major crush on you."

"Well then, it seems we have a built-in discount on our hands," Donna quips, laughing against his lips as she leans in for another kiss.

•••

A hush falls over the packed courtroom as the judge strides to his bench, his stern expression silencing the chatter.

Donna sits off to the side with a pretty good line of sight to court proper, but not obvious and distracting to Harvey in the course of doing his job. Louis and Sheila's family sit in the front row, right behind Harvey and Samantha. They look incredibly calm and collected given the circumstances, Donna notes. It's a good thing. It'll help Harvey focus.

"Mr. Specter, please proceed with your opening statement."

A knot of worry tightens in Donna's stomach as the judge calls on Harvey. She steals a glance at him. Notices the muscle flickering in his jaw, betraying the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior.

She knows the pain of this case cuts deeper for him than just another client. But she also knows the second he takes the floor, the courtroom will become his stage, and the familiar adrenaline rush will replace his fear of appearing weak and emotional.

"Members of the jury," Harvey rises, his voice catching slightly.

He allows the silence to stretch a beat longer than normally before an opening statement, his shoulders shifting ever so slightly, a near-invisible gesture that speaks volumes to Donna.

"We stand before you today seeking justice for the senseless tragedy that took the lives of Louis Litt and Sheila Sazs. They are more than just names on a case file. They were my friends, colleagues, and the loving parents of a beautiful baby girl," Harvey's voice thickens, a flicker of emotion crossing his face.

"Their lives were extinguished in an instant because of the recklessness of one man." He slams a fist on the podium, the sound echoing through the courtroom. "The defense will try to spin this as an accident. But accidents don't involve fleeing the scene," he continues.

"There was another victim: Cleo Holmes." He gestures towards her. "She was struck by the same man just moments before the fatal collision. Miraculously, she survived the defendant's initial rampage. But the trauma left her scarred, both physically and mentally, and it's only recently that she remembered the horrifying details of that night."

He strides towards Cleo, placing a hand on her shoulder, his voice softening with empathy as he says, "Ms. Holmes' testimony will reveal the defendant's blatant disregard for human life. He didn't stop after hitting her. He kept driving, a weapon on four wheels, until he crashed into the car carrying Louis and Sheila."

The starched collar of his shirt suddenly seems a little too tight around his neck, like sandpaper against his clammy skin. He swallows hard as he loosens his tie a fraction, the anger simmering beneath the surface.

"Little Lucy, a mere infant at just six months old, is now left parentless. Imagine that. Losing both your mom and dad at such a tender age. The emotional and financial burden she faces is immeasurable," he addresses Lucy's fate. It reminds him, more than ever, that her happiness now rests entirely in his and Donna's hands.

"This wasn't just an isolated incident. This wasn't a momentary lapse in judgment. The defendant made a series of choices that night, each one a deliberate step towards tragedy. He was a menace unleashed on the streets, a danger to anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path."

Harvey pauses, his eyes scanning the faces in the jury box. Their expressions are a mosaic.

Some guarded, their lips pressed into thin lines, eyes narrowed as if scrutinizing a puzzle they aren't sure how to solve. Others lean forward, brows furrowed in curiosity, a sign of empathy perhaps, or maybe just a desire to understand the story about to unfold.

This, Harvey can't deny, is the part he loves. Despite the emotional pull of the case, the challenge of reading the jury, of having to crack the code of their diverse emotions, is a game he always thrives on.

"Ms. Wheeler here is joining me today, representing Lucy as her guardian ad litem, and we will demonstrate the defendant's culpability, and the pain he has inflicted. We are also pursuing a civil suit against the establishment that served the defendant alcohol," he declares. "They knowingly served an intoxicated man, a clear violation of the Dram Shop Act, which makes them complicit in the devastation caused."

He lets his words linger as he sweeps his gaze across the jury once more, before continuing, "This is about accountability. It's about sending a message. About not only seeking justice for Louis and Sheila, but for Ms. Holmes, for Lucy, and for every innocent person who could be put at risk by such irresponsible behavior."

Harvey clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath, composing himself, barely able to control his rage.

"We will lie out the truth, and we ask you, the jury, to hold the defendant and those who enabled him fully responsible," he appeals to their sense of justice. "He may have taken two lives that night, but he shattered countless others. And we, all of us in this courtroom, have the power to make sure he is held accountable for every broken piece."

"Thank you," Harvey ends, giving a small nod.

There has been no telltale prickle in her nose to warn Donna that the tears are about to come. They are pouring down her face before she realizes she is crying. God, she's so proud of him! And Louis would have been so proud of him, too…

For a moment, right before Harvey sits back down, their eyes meet and hold. The urge to walk over to him, throw her arms around his neck and hug him tight – whisper in his ear how amazing he did, how every word hit perfectly – is so strong that she feels if she doesn't act on it, her body deteriorates and she dies.

Donna presses her palms into her eye sockets and wills herself to stop crying. A breath shudders in and out of her lungs, a sob she desperately wanted to suppress. She sweeps a hand over her red hair and straightens her shoulders, thinking she might just snap if she stiffens anymore.

Alex's hand lands gently on her knee. "You're okay?" he asks, deep furrows of concern lining his forehead.

"Yeah," Donna murmurs, her lips curved slightly, a weak attempt at a smile failing to reach her eyes. "This is just a lot to take in right now."

She knew it would be difficult, but she might've underestimated just how difficult it would be.

The funeral made Louis' death seem so real, a cruel separation. But listening to the eulogies and people's stories about him made her feel warm and cozy. Made her feel like a part of him will stay with her forever.

This hearing, with its dry legalese and dispassionate details, paints a far more brutal picture – a future without her loving friend, cold and unforgiving. She doesn't know how much more she can take before it becomes too much.

There are parts of the trial where Donna completely zones out as her mind yearns for escape.

It drifts to Lucy, vivid images flickering behind her closed eyelids – finding the perfect spot for Lucy's stuffed animals, Lucy's favorite picture books displayed on a shelf, framed photos of her adorning the walls of their condo.

Then Donna thinks about how she will furnish their new home. If she wants that designer couch or prefers a plush sofa with tons of space for them to snuggle up against each other, Lucy nestled between her and Harvey – the perfect place for family cuddles or movie nights.

A rich emerald green, perhaps? Or maybe a neutral gray. That might be more what Harvey wants.

And which color should the ottoman have? The one that will be a spot to kick up her feet, a soft surface for Lucy to build block towers, extra seating in a pinch, and offer the all-important hidden storage.

Harvey will probably grumble about the lack of "clean lines," but a corner with a fun-patterned rug providing a comfy landing pad for playtime adventures with Lucy will surely win him over.

Maybe a section of the wall can double as a dedicated gallery space for her future masterpieces.

Donna envisions a giant cork board in a warm honey color, proudly displaying Lucy's first wobbly stick figures and colorful scribbles with vibrant push pins. Crayon creations, then later on, as her creativity blossoms, more sophisticated artwork.

Harvey, despite his initial groans about sacrificing "wall space," will secretly beam with pride every time he glances over at Lucy's artistic endeavors.

Guilt pricks Donna's conscience when she leaves the sanctuary she created in her mind. When she comes back to the present, where Harvey is fighting tooth and nail for Lucy's future while she has lost herself in a daydream of stick figures and ottomans.

She doesn't know how long it's been since she actively listened to a word being said in court, before the legalese started to blur and the droning of whoever was talking at the time became a distant hum.

The thing that finally jolts her back to reality is a sudden crack in the monotonous tone. A single word, sharp and vibrant, shattering the haze like a gunshot. Objection!

"I won't let anyone in this courtroom disrespect me like that," Harvey says gruffly, a raw edge to his voice, a tremor barely masked by the fury that crackles through it.

Donna's head snaps up, and she looks at him, then at the opposing lawyer, Gregory Thorne.

"Your Honor, I just voiced some concerns about Mr. Specter's suitability in this trial," Harvey's opponent says with false sincerity. "First, there's his undeniable connection to Mr. Litt. Grief, undoubtedly, clouds his judgment. But even more concerning is his emotional attachment to Lucy Litt. It's clear, wouldn't you agree, that Mr. Specter is far too compromised to represent anyone in this case?"

He turns his head, locking eyes with Harvey in a calculated show of dominance. Even from across the room, the naked malice in Thorne's gaze is clear to Donna.

"Ms. Holmes may have secured your presence, Mr. Specter, but your theatrics and emotional manipulation have no place in this courtroom. This isn't about your desire to adopt the victim. Focus on the law, or step aside and let someone qualified represent Ms. Holmes."

A low growl rumbles in Donna's chest, contained behind gritted teeth.

How could anyone accuse Harvey of exploiting the situation for personal gain? Of manipulating this tragedy for his own personal agenda? She can't believe the very thing he feared most has come true, and someone is using his vulnerability as a weapon, aimed straight at his heart.

"Your Honor, I'm looking at this objectively," Harvey says, surprisingly calm, "and this man over there… he deserves to be punished for what he did."

"You are not looking at this objectively," Thorne scoffs. "You're looking at this from the perspective of a man who wants to adopt the child involved in this case. Justice demands a clear-eyed perspective, not the clouded vision of a prospective father. Can you assure this court you'll set aside your emotions and focus on the facts?"

Donna feels the need to scream. She wants to eviscerate that man for all the outrageous things he's spitting into her husband's face. Things that aren't true.

"Is that right?" Harvey retorts. "Because from where I'm standing, it seems like you're the one struggling to separate emotions from facts, Thorne. Maybe you're worried my passion for this case will expose the shoddy defense you've cobbled together for your client." A somewhat sardonic smile plays on his lips as he sneers, "If your strategy relies on impugning my character, then the defendant should be very worried."

But before his opponent can respond, Harvey turns to the judge. "Your Honor, the defense's attempt to smear my motives is not only baseless but also irrelevant. My personal life has no bearing on this case," he states convincingly. "We are here to seek justice, not to discuss hypothetical adoption plans that haven't even been considered."

He glances briefly at Donna, expecting to see unwavering support. Her expression is unreadable, but a hint of something – disappointment? – crosses her eyes before she schools her features into neutrality.

He replays his last words in his head, the gravity of his statement hitting him for the first time. The last part slipped out more naturally than intended.

Hypothetical adoption plans.

Lucy, this tiny, squirming miracle he loves to cradle against his chest, is anything but. She is real, impossibly real, a warmth that chases away the chill of an unpredictable future. A future without their dear friend.

She's their North Star.

But…

This is what he does when he gets agitated. He hurts the people he loves. He hurts Donna. And the worst part is he doesn't have time to think about how to make it up to her, let alone apologize. He still has a case to win.

"I may be Lucy's legal guardian," he moves on, forcing himself to ignore the damage, "but I can assure you, my commitment to her well-being only strengthens my resolve to see justice served."

Relief floods through him after the judge sustains his objection, but as the proceedings continue, Harvey can't shake off the image of Donna's wounded expression.

As his eyes search hers again, it feels as though she's avoiding his gaze. The next time his focus wavers, he registers the sadness in her expression, and, finally, when the judge announces a brief recess, she's gone.

I looked around, and you weren't there.