Teaching from home has me bored during the day so I'm currently alternating between Community and Suits both on Netflix and Fanfiction! I'm uploading something every day... but not necessarily to the same story! Bear with me, I am posting as regularly as I can!

Thank you so much for all the reviews so far. This is honestly the greatest response to a story I've ever had!

His hand is broken, that much is obvious when the light hits his eyes the next morning and he reaches up to rub his face. The skin across his knuckles is bruised and scraped and he can't open his fist without sending a bullet of pain up his arm. Next to him, Donna is sleeping soundly, nestled in to the crook of his other arm, and he lays still to avoid waking her.

They had stayed up in to the early hours of the morning; his hand cradled in a makeshift ice pack while they shared a pizza and just... talked. Once Donna had coaxed him from the floor, pulled him from his own head and back down to Earth, they had settled on the couch together and teased out their worries slowly. It had been good for him to hear she was scared too- that he wasn't alone in feeling like they were headed for something akin to one of the Twelve Labours, something that would test them and punish them for mistakes made long in the past.

He's better when there's a spoken problem to solve- when he can taste the words on his tongue rather than relying on scrutiny of his own feelings. And he's better still when he's reminded of Donna's unwavering faith in him. She did that for him last night, broke herself open and revealed her fears while he ran his fingers through her hair.

Why didn't you tell me you were scared too?

Because I know you, and I know it'll all be okay.

Flexing his hand again, he winces and the movement stirs Donna, who stretches out against him under the sheets. Usually, he would roll to face her in the bed, cup her cheeks and pull her in for a kiss- but the pain is distracting and he settles for tightening his grip around her shoulders.

"Harvey..." she murmurs then, spotting his ruined knuckles, bolts upright in the bed. "Your hand!"

"It's fine," he insists, but he feels his mouth twisting in pain as he speaks.

"Harvey, it's not fine." She reaches out to cup his forearm in her hand, rubbing the pad of her thumb against his wrist. The gesture is so gentle that for a moment he feels like he might weep all over again, but he rallies, meets her eye. "We need to get you to the hospital."

"Damnit Donna, I'm fine." He winces again, somewhat disproving his point.

"Don't, Harvey. Don't you dare push me away this morning, not after last night."

They've had this argument so many times in the past; him refusing to accept his feelings and her pushing him to talk. There was a time when he couldn't acknowledge how lucky he was to have this- have someone who is both a best friend and a soul mate, who pushes him to face every feeling he's ever suppressed- but now he has acknowledged it it feels foolish to fight.

"You're right, I'm sorry."

She throws his clothes from the night before at him, before padding out of the room to call Ray.

The Emergency Room is crowded, but they pass the time parsing through the magazines left on the seats; Harvey awkwardly placing them on his lap and turning the pages with his left hand while his right sits uselessly against the arm rest. He feels restless, uneasy about being sat there while, somewhere in the office, Louis is supporting him, and Mike is in the air heading straight for him. But when he voices that worry to Donna she tells him to just let the world be for a while, and they wait to be called in by a nurse. Donna fills in the insurance papers for him- he has wrecked his writing hand.

When he is eventually called he is hustled in to a room by a nurse- an abrupt, dumpy lady who nevertheless handles his ruined hand with a deftness and carefulness he thinks he has never experienced in any other professional sphere- and he lets Donna explain the incident with wall. The nurse regards him strangely and he wonders what she thinks of him, whether she will call Donna in to a separate room to interrogate her, and the thought makes him sick. Then he feels Donna's hand on his shoulder, hears her reassure them all about a question no one has asked, and the nurse gives him a playful pat on the knee.

"What did the wall do to you?" she laughs. Donna leans over to kiss the top of his head.

"I got some bad news, I shouldn't have," he replies meekly, unsure of how to respond to these women who mock him so lovingly.

A subsequent x-ray reveals a fracture that splits across three knuckles and they are dispatched home with painkillers, Harvey's hand wrapped up tight and a strict instruction from a nurse to control his temper in future.

Ray drives them home without asking any questions, although Harvey can see him glancing back at them through the mirror every so often with a strange expression on his face. Donna sits to his left, clasps his good hand in both of hers and plays with his wedding ring absentmindedly. It's a habit he's noticed she's picked up since the wedding and he's sure she doesn't even realise she's doing it. He doesn't want to enlighten her just in case she stops.

At the door to their building Donna hangs back.

"I'm gonna go grab us a couple of coffees. You look like you need the caffeine," she says by way of explanation and, without waiting on a response, turns and heads down the street towards her favourite coffee shop.

Harvey takes the stairs.

It's a slog, but there's a part of him that's a glutton for punishment and Donna won't be back for a while anyway. He needs the time to think that won't lead him to reaching for a glass of scotch. In his pocket, his phone buzzes a few times- Louis, probably- but he ignores it and continues his penance-climb up to his floor. It's been a while since he hit the gym before work- staying in bed with Donna is always so much more tempting- and by the time he's putting his key in the lock and pushing open his door he's out of breathe and cursing himself.

"If I'd known I was hiring an old man I might have reconsidered."

Mike is stood at the breakfast bar, his usual smug look plastered over his face. Harvey thinks he's never been so grateful to see a friend and for a few moments he can forget about the pain in his hand. It's short-lived, Donna clearly didn't warn Mike about their trip to the emergency room this morning.

"Jesus, Harvey, what did you do to your hand?"

"If you think this is bad, wait until you see the other guy," Harvey says lightly, shrugging. The movement causes a twinge of pain right through to his shoulder but the painkillers he's taken are pretty good and he's able to mask it.

"You punched a wall didn't you?"

"Yeah, I punched a wall."

Mike shakes his head.

"I'd offer you some of your own scotch but you're looking a bit funny around the eyes."

"Way to kick a man when he's down, Mike."

"Seriously, man, I know a high expression when I see one. What did they give you?"

Harvey thinks of the packet Donna kept in her purse, after squeezing out a dose in to his hand and watching him dry-swallow carefully. There had been many letters on the box, none of them are swimming together in to any semblance of a word in his head. He shrugs again.

"I could have fun with this," Mike grins and Harvey resists the urge to punch him playfully on the arm. Instead, he accepts Mike's hug gratefully, clinging to the fabric of his shirt with his left hand while his right hangs limply at his side.