Torn

Summary: Harvey turns up at Donna's door but is met by Thomas instead and not realizing his feelings, Donna loses herself amidst the pressure to keep tensions at the firm from boiling over.

Warnings: Nothing too graphic but there are a few parts that could potentially be triggering; an implied eating disorder, mentions of depression... pretty much just a lot of angst in general.

An: Oh boy! I started writing this weeks ago as somewhere to put my frustration over not enough Darvey scenes. I really wanted to write an AU that takes Donna's influence out of S9 and the effect it would have on everyone else. I hope I've done the characters justice, not taken things too far out of the realms of possibility.

There's nothing left, I used to cry... my conversation has run dry

That's what's going on. Nothing's fine, I'm torn.

I.

The call goes straight to voicemail, Rachel's cheery message tugging at something inside Donna, leaving her deflated and disheartened to try again.

A chill raises goosebumps along her skin, the flickering fire almost out, but she lets it die down distracted by thoughts of the petite brunette. She misses her desperately but things haven't been the same since Robert's disbarment. There's a tension underlying their calls, a contrast to the smiling happy voice on Rachel's answering service, and she reaches for the stem of her wine glass- swirling the deep red liquid with a sigh.

Too many words and not enough spring into her mind to justify it. She knows Rachel isn't angry. There's been no outright judgment but the woman doesn't have to admit she's disappointed for Donna to hear it. Robert got caught up in something that wasn't his fault; a direct consequence of a decision she'd made by putting herself above the firm. If anything that's probably why the brunette has been so accepting, understanding it was what she needed to do but her recent break-up with Thomas has exacerbated everything that's been left unsaid between them.

Everything except Rachel's short and curt advice the last time they spoke; decide what she wants and move on or people are going to keep getting hurt. There was no malice to the words just a tiredness that had resonated deep within Donna's bones and the truth has been wrapped around her guilt residing there ever since.

She swallows hard, unable to dislodge the coil of regret tightening her chest. She made a mistake and people did get hurt. Samantha lost her mentor, the only person in this word the blonde has ever been able to count on. A good man who took a fall to right his own wrong doings or at least those are the whispers she's heard. Nobody has given her the full story and she hasn't clarity won't change what happen.

It won't make Louis Managing Partner again and it's not going to rewind time and give Harvey back the faith he lost. She broke them, and the glass in her hand takes on a new weight and she forces down a too large gulp letting the alcohol unknot what feels like barbed wire twisting inside her.

They didn't speak for three days after his hearing and she can only assume he was pissed because she didn't go, the last remnants of trust unravelling between them- but she couldn't. She'd tried, gotten herself ready that morning and then Thomas had shown up probing about their relationship. Why? Because in spite of having nearly cost Harvey everything, he was still ready to do anything to protect her. Always willing to sacrifice but never fighting, doing all the right things but never saying the words.

She couldn't face that again, her heart already choked with doubt and beating out of sync at the genuine concern in Thomas's gaze. His feelings were real, solid, and in that moment she would've given anything to cut Harvey out. Even if it had meant bleeding to death on the floor of her apartment. She'd craved simple, uncomplicated, an escape from the turmoil and so she'd let Thomas go alone, more determined than ever to lean on him no matter what the outcome.

The resolve lasted less time than it took for Louis to get demoted.

She could barely look at Thomas in the days after, the reminder of her mistakes pocketed in every worried glance he directed her way.

Eat something.

Breathe.

Rest.

In the meantime why not just hand Faye a packet of matches, stand back and watch the whole thing burn.

Those weren't her exact words to Thomas but the sentiment had been the same, their subsequent breakup another thing to add to her long list of recent failures. The only thing she's managed to not screw up is becoming Faye's new lackey- her play to keep the representative of the board happy and take the heat off everybody else. It's been tiring, her days rarely ending before ten at night but she keeps the complaint to herself. Who would she tell; Alex, Katrina? They both have enough on their plate's trying to keep the peace, a role that should be hers- and she swallows another top up of wine, the shame and embarrassment washing away with the rise of tipsyness.

Her confidence has taken a knock, landing her on the sidelines but even if she wanted to she doesn't have the energy to fight it. She's exhausted and Thomas' concerns play back through her head as her stomach growls in protest of another liquid dinner. She drowns out the rumble with more alcohol and like some kind of clairvoyantcy shit going on... her phone lights up, Thomas' name flashing across the screen. She let's it go to voicemail and should probably just delete the message but a rush of vulnerability urges the device up to her ear.

It's the wine, she tells herself, his low melodic words instantly calming until they dip with the same worry that led to her pushing him away.

She knows why he's calling.

Their ill-timed run in at Marco's coffee house the other morning hadn't been her finest moment. She'd been up passed midnight the evening prior, pulling records for Faye, and the encounter had been forced and awkward, her order forgotten as she'd left him standing there. And yet part of her is almost tempted to call him back, her judgment slipping as she leans into the cushions replaying the invite to lunch with a sigh.

She could go but where would that lead, another argument, getting together again?

She doesn't want either of those things.

Doesn't want to be the reason he keeps getting hurt and then it's Rachel's words that take over, swimming through her head again.

Decide what she wants and move on.

It shouldn't be this hard and the fact it is sends her thumbs scrambling across the keypad, composing a message to tell him she's fine but it would be better if they didn't see each other again. Hitting send she feels a strange sense of relief wash over her and she quickly blocks his number deleting it from her contacts list.

Maybe this is what she wants, to be left alone- no longer tied to the needs of everybody else. It's sure as hell better than Louis snapping at her every two minutes or Harvey going out of his way to avoid her, and she drains the last of her drink tempted to open another bottle but finding she doesn't have the motivation to get from the couch to the kitchen.

Her bedroom is even more of a stretch but she'll regret it if she sleeps where she is, her body already stiff from missing too many yoga sessions... another thing she's let go of lately. With Faye's near constant demands she hasn't had the time and she's careful as she stands, shaking out pins and needles as she navigates a dizzying spin through the darkened hall.

She doesn't bother with lights until she's in her room, the harshness making her stop and wince- her gaze blinking at the full length mirror. The reflection staring back is one she has trouble reconciling with. She's the same person she was a few weeks ago but there's something different and it's not just the subtle weight-loss drawing her eyes down.

She looks... frail, lacking the 'Donna' that's driven her personalty for so long and it's not who she wants to be, she just doesn't know how to escape the guilt dragging her down. It's all consuming and she flicks the switch again casting herself back into the darkness; somewhere away from the problems she's trying to forget.