Hi everyone.. This fic is for Cece & Ana, based on the scenario we pictured for a darvey scene in 6.10 .. and I tried to include all the other things we talk about, how different their situation is and how Harvey's dealing or not dealing with his feelings.. So anyway.. A scenario of what could happen in 6.10 ? Hope you like it & maybe leave a review. x
"Mike's coming home."
Letting out a sigh, she can still hear herself saying the words. She prides herself on knowing things. On reading people, knowing what to say. When to push, when to stay quiet or when to walk away. She would have never said the words if she didn't believe them to be true. But she did, she thought they were the truth.
She just couldn't imagine this to happen. Not after everything, not after all the deals getting pulled and being brought back up again. She thought this was it, this was the one. The one that would have worked and yet it didn't.
A tear runs down her cheek as the cold Manhattan air greets her. Letting the building she's called home more than her own apartment behind her, she paces up and down the sidewalk. Her hand wiping away her own tears, her mind is telling her to go and see her best friend.
Her heart just isn't sure which one of the two that is.
Rachel or Harvey. It's not that she hasn't seen him struggle over the past few weeks, because she has. Ooh, she had and as much as it pains her to see him like that. She made a deal with herself when she came back to his desk, a new rule.
She knew he needed her and she wanted to help. She wants to help, but coming back to his desk did not mean all things are forgiven or forgotten. Things couldn't go back to how they once were. The line they both danced but never crossed turning into an invisible wall.
She would help him, she would be there for him. She would do what he needed. She'd be the perfect secretary, but she'd only be just that.
She's still his friend. She still considers him to be her friend, but for her own sake she doesn't allow herself to do her Donna thing with him. Not really, no witty comments. No laughter, no flirtatious looks. No lingering touches and no glasses of scotch shared late at night.
She can still anticipate his needs, for work that is. It's not just her new rule that stops her from making witty comments or being his emotional outlet, it's him too. She can't read him anymore, not really. Not like she was able to do before everything that happened went down.
It has nothing to do with Mitchell, or very little that is. She ended things with him the moment it got more serious. She's ashamed to say she couldn't even see he was in it more than she was. Because the moment he asked her to move in with him, it brought her back to all those other moments in the past few months. Her sitting on the chair across of his therapist. The words "Harvey has no idea what he's missing," rolling of her tongue as if it was a fact, as if she wasn't otherwise engaged.
And maybe she wasn't. Never had been. Not really.
As much as she had told herself it was over. That she was ready to move on. That she had moved on, she'd never been completely in that relationship with Mitchell. How funny, smart and emotionally available he might have been. She'd never been able to fully give herself and deep down she also knew why.
There was still this why. This what if.
She never had gotten real closure from whatever situation they were in. Her and Harvey. She knows he might never be ready, she knows that he isn't in any state to deal with whatever it is now. Because as hard as it is for her to read him now, she does know him.
Twelve years of being by his side makes her able to know that the news of her seeing Mitchell must have hit him. Even if he didn't really showed it, even if he said he was happy for her. She knows it did, like it had done with Stephen and every man before that. She's not exactly sure what the fight between him and Louis was about, but she can't help but wonder if her telling that news a few days before that was part of the bottled up anger that made him lash out at Louis.
She knows about his panic attacks and how he'd been seeing a therapist to deal with those. She couldn't be more proud of him finally trying to deal with his issues, but she also knows that he hasn't been back there since the whole mess around Mike started. Maybe she predicted that too, maybe deep down that was another reason she'd come back to his desk.
Because she knows him well enough to know that the moment of Mike's arrest put every little piece of progress he might have made on holt. That he hit 'pause.' That whatever other feelings and issues he was dealing with, those walls were back up in a way. The fact he never even informed how she knew about dr. Agard, proving that he wasn't dealing with anything at this point. He wasn't allowing himself to deal with anything else. The feelings clearly boxed away, compartmentalized.
It's how he worked, it's what made him such a great lawyer. His ability to shut things off and just focus on the task at hand. It's what she told Rachel after the Mock Trial, it's what she kept telling herself when he couldn't give her the comfort she so desperately needed during the Liberty Rail case.
She knows that now two months later that's still the case. That the fear of his associate going to prison or himself that made him work so hard. The responsibility he felt towards the frim, the way he wanted to protect everyone was now replaced by guilt. A huge amount of guilt and she can't even blame him for it.
She feels guilty too. Being able to live her life while that of Rachel and Mike was put on hold. That's why whenever she could, she'd help. Call Mike to tell him about things going on at the firm, pass messages from the younger man to Harvey. Just helping, as she promised herself she would. Even if that meant impersonating someone from Danbury Prison to get the daughter of Harvey's client to talk to Mike's cellmate, to even meeting the woman in person. Trying to convince her to take the deal.
She'd been so happy when she heard Cahill accepted the deal, a deal she had played such a little part in. But she helped and that's all she wanted to do. She'd been the one to tell Rachel. She'd the one that celebrated with her that night.
It would have been the first time she allowed the younger woman an insight at what had been going on in her own life, but she didn't want to ruin her night. She didn't want the brunette to worry about her, when all she'd been doing was worrying about her fiancé. Rachel might have been busy with the innocence project, but she knew how much she thought about the man in prison.
She never got around to telling Rachel everything she'd been through. The happiness not lasting long enough. Gallo turning out to be a bigger problem than anticipated, Cahill or his superiors turning out to be anything but men of their word.
Sutter taken down, but the deal was off.
"Mike isn't coming home."
She slowly lifts her head, finding herself next to the glass façade of his apartment building. She's not sure whether it were her feet having their own will or her heart making up her mind. Probably a combination of both, she lets out a sigh as she makes her way to the entrance of the lobby.
The ride to the top floor is anything but slow, yet for her it feels like she's experiencing it in slow motion. Her heart rate increasing with every floor the little metal box climbs. Her heart trying to tell her one thing, her mind a mixture between trying to explain herself why she ended up here and why she shouldn't be doing this.
But he needs her.
She knows that and deep down she needs him. Biting her lip she tells herself that this is an exception on the rule she made. That this was needed and that this was what she should be doing. After all she's just going to be there for him. His presence alone would be enough for her. For now. To feel that in a way he's there for her too.
She can still hear Jessica's words on how to get in the place and she doesn't even consider ringing the bell. His days of bringing back random girls long gone. He never told her that, but she knows. She could see it in the way his wardrobe changed, she noticed it in the hours he made it to office. Being there earlier than ever.
She also knows he drinks himself to sleep. Every single day. If he sleeps that is, she's thought about it before, but not allowed herself to worry about it. Like she's not allowed herself to worry about more than just that.
She can hear the familiar tunes of Gordon Specter playing in the background and she quietly closes the door behind her. Her coat still hanging on her shoulders, she makes her way to his living room. Only to find it abandoned.
His name leaves her lips in an inaudible whisper, her head turning from left to right she feels a breeze of cold air coming from the direction of his bedroom. Her breath faltering for a moment she pushes herself forward. Her hand briefly resting on the wall as the tip of her four inch heel toys with the invisible line that separates the room his living room from the only place in his apartment she's never entered.
Her gaze finding him in the distance. Just him, standing there on his balcony. All alone, his arms resting on the railing and his head is hanging low. Not even aware she's there. The pure sight of him pulls her over that invisible threshold, fighting her own tears she walks towards him.
"Donna," she hears him whisper without him looking at her and it's the tone in his voice, the way his shoulders drop even further that makes her swallow. She's never seen him have a panic attack and she wonders if he's had one just now. Or if he's close to having one, not having seen him so down since his father passing away. She just doesn't realise that as bad as he feels right now it's not the worst that's happened to him. That she's the main reason he's not having them now. That her presence alone, the thought of her being back, for him is enough to stop that from happening.
"Harvey," she answers softly, the sadness in her own voice clearly noticeable to and she can see at the way his skin crinkles on the side of his face that he closed his eyes. "You don't need to say it," every word that leaves his lips filled with pain.
"Yeah I do," she counters, not because he's in a way already fighting her, but because she needs to. She needs him to hear the words. She needs him to know. She needs him to allow her to be there for him, because it's the only way someone will be there for her now.
Her hand lingers in the air and they normally don't touch, but the situation is anything from normal. Everything they've been through anything but normal. Her fingers slide over his shoulder. She can feel him freeze under her touch, before she sees him crook his head. Looking at her, his watery eyes lock with hers.
"Harvey," she sighs, "this is not on you." Her head slowly shaking no, his doing the exact opposite as he rebuts her words. "Yes it is." She just looks at him, seeing him bite his lip. Swallowing she presses her own lips together in a thin line, words left unspoken, but the shaking of her head still giving away she doesn't agree with him.
"I promised I would get him out." She notices him turning to face her, but she doesn't step back. Instead she lets the hand that was still resting on his shoulder slip over his shoulder. Lifting herself up on her toes, her other arm wraps around his neck, she pulls him into a hug.
"And I failed," his voice soft near her ear. Eyes closing, his chin resting on her shoulder, his arms instinctively wrapping around her lower back. "I failed," she hears him sob on her shoulder. Her hand moves to the back of his neck. Her fingers slipping through his hair, she soothes him as he keeps her body flush against his.
"This is not your fault," she whispers feeling his grip on her body tighten for a second. "And I never want to hear you say that again," she adds, her hands simultaneously moving back over his shoulders and his upper arms as his hands settle on either side of her waist.
She feels her skin burning under his touch, but she doesn't allow herself to think anything of it. Not now. Not under these circumstances. "You did everything you could have done, Harvey," she whispers as their faces are only inches apart.
Her eyes locking with his once more and for once she doesn't see it coming, but his lips brush against hers. His hands on her waist bringing her close as he kisses her and it takes her only a second before her lips answer his. Her eyes closing, it's everything she remembered to be. Time freezing, it's just them.
Her mind slower than her instinct, but when it finally catches up she pulls away from him. "No," she mumbles, trying to find her breath because he had taken it away. "Not like this," she shakes her head, her eyes welling up because it takes everything inside her to do this, but it needs to be done. If she wants to be able to make it through another day, she needs to do this. For her. For them.
"Donna," she hears him whisper. The look on his face giving away that there's an apology on the tip of his tongue as her hands remove his from her waist. She knows upsetting her is the last thing on earth he had wanted to do, but she also realises he might not have been thinking straight.
"Not because you're sad," she mumbles taking a step back still looking at him. "Not because all you need is comfort," she shakes her head, trying to clear her mind because in a way it felt so good and in a way she knows it might break her heart again if she doesn't stop this now. Yet stopping it does that too. "Not because you think we'll be able to go back.. again."
"I.. I.. should go," she tells him then, nodding at her own words she turns on her heels. Walking away without looking over her shoulder, not sure she would have made it out of the door otherwise. Blocking out any words that didn't leave his lips, but could have. Should have. Letting out a sigh she closes the door to his apartment behind her.
Knowing all too well, that even though she didn't look back, his face mirrored the expression she had painted all across her face when he left her apartment that night months ago. That of shock and confusion and as much as she hates causing that to him now, she knows it's for the best. For them. For now.
She also knows that he might never be ready. For her or a real relationship in general. That he might never take that step she did the day after that night, months ago. Asking for that conversation, figuring out exactly what happened between them. Fighting for what there might be. Fighting for what they could be.
She knows the might never do it.
But somehow, something inside her tells her that this might just be it. That one little push, that one little hint that might make him do exactly that. That one thing that could bring those walls down again, that could make those boxes with those carefully put away feelings explode.
The thing that might just make him realise that it's okay to focus on more than just work. That even though the guilt is eating him up, it's possible to find happiness in a time of sadness. The one thing that might just make him realise he needs to fight for her.
Because it's like she told Louis, he'll never know if he doesn't fight for her.
But it's up to him, that's what she told herself all that happened. After twelve years of guiding the way for him, it's him that needs to take the final step. That's the little bit of reassurance she needs, that's why she asked the 'love me how.' That's how she'll know that he really wants that. That's what will tell her how.
She needs him to fight because he wants to do so, not because he feels down. Or because he just needs comfort or because all he wants is sex. Because all that would do is screw them up even more, if that's even possible. That's why she left now, knowing what she hopes for might never happen or that it could still take a while for him to fight for her. For them.
Even though she isn't expecting anything at this point, all she can hope for that he realises that these circumstances aren't how it was supposed to happen again. That he understands that. That this will make him realise she deserves more. That he needs to fight for her. That all those years she dedicated to him are worth it. That all the heartbreak, the tears and pain. The perpetual dance of one step forward and two steps back, that it's worth it.
Because they could be worth it, they are worth it. He is worth it.
He just needs to realise that he is first.
And that is what she needs.