Harvey shuts the door of their condo with a heavy sigh, the breath expelling from him aggressively, as though it had been trapped in his lungs all day.

He's met with a silence that resonates, telling him already that this night would be just like all the others since that fateful day over a week ago now.

They'd tried to be careful, ever since their spontaneous, yet long time coming rendezvous at her apartment, they'd been practically inseparable.

Well, more so than before.

They saw it as making up for lost time, not seeing the point in hiding things when they'd spent so much time hiding in the past. Not wasting a moment in sharing the news with their friends and colleagues, even if the news wasn't received with the warmest of welcomes from all.

That was before she arrived.

Faye Richardson.

And suddenly they were back in hiding. Donna was already under suspicion for gaining her position in a 'distasteful manner' as Faye had so sweetly put it. That, on top of the fact that theirs was considered to be an 'inappropriate work relationship', meant that they had to keep things quiet and subtle at work.

In addition, the COO was also at the center of Faye's line of inquiry, suspicious of the redhead from the word go.

The pair had coped surprisingly well, until just last week.

An old client, prior to his retirement, and friend of Harvey's had taken ill, the lawyer had received the phone call bearing the news late one Tuesday evening in the partner's kitchen. It hit him harder than he'd have cared to admit, the mug of coffee in his hand slipping through his fingers and landing in the basin of the sink with a loud rattle.

Donna had approached moments later, as though sensing his distress from a far, running a hand up along his spine until it had come to rest on his shoulder, a squeeze, urging him to tell her what happened.

She'd pulled him into a hug, murmuring comforting words in his ear until he began to relax, her closeness easing his tension.

Forgetting themselves, he'd captured her lips in an innocent kiss, gentle and conveying his thanks.

To their horror, the moment had been interrupted by a sharp clearing of a throat.

Faye Richardson's satisfied smirk making both their hearts drop.

She hadn't said a word at first. In fact, she left it hanging, not bringing up the encounter until two days later, allowing them time to squirm, and also lulling them into a false sense of security.

Leading them to believe she'd chosen to let it slide.

Donna had been summoned to her office at the end of that Friday.

Her suspension handed to her with a smile from the wicked blonde, and the promise that sooner rather than later, she hoped it would become permanent.

He remembers that night clearly:

He'd gone home early to make dinner, leaving her behind at the office to finish up on a few things.

With the record player humming a soothing dim in the background and the slow sizzle of the cooker, Harvey Specter had felt so at ease, waiting patiently for his girlfriend to return home.

The sudden and loud slamming of the front door alerted him first to the notion that something wasn't right, the redhead rounding the corner into the living room and storming right past him in the direction of the bedroom.

"Donna?" he'd tried to grab her attention, following her stride for stride and reaching out to grab her wrist.

She'd rejected the touch almost instantaneously, jerking her hand away but he kept his hold, "Don't touch me."

Her eyes met his for the first time and he saw they were red rimmed, her cheeks smudged with a hue of blackish grey. Fear coiling in his abdomen.

"What happened?" Any number of scenarios ran through his head, had someone upset her? Hurt her? Worse?

"I said, get off me." She pushed harder this time, but he didn't relent, catching her other arm and pulling her closer.

"Donna, you're scaring me." Harvey whispered, studying her face, partially trying to read it while also searching from any sign of injury, any clue as to what might be wrong.

"Do you think I care right now?" she yelled and his own frustration hit its peak.

"Goddamn it talk to me!""Faye suspended me." She cried, her eyes wild and her lip quivering, "It's over, she as good as promised that before long it would become a permanent suspension."

"Donna I'm-"

"Why the hell is it always me?" she asked.

"I don't understand-"

"We were both caught, both of us in an 'inappropriate work pairing' or whatever bullshit label she gave it, but for some reason I'm the only one who gets punished, I'm the one they call a slut, it's always me!" she broke down crying, and for the first time, he saw how hard it's been for her.

"Don, I don't know what to say-" he choked, watching her crumble, wanting to pull her into a hug but fearful of how she might take it.

It took a few moments before her crying subsided enough for her to form a coherent phrase, and when it did, her words surprised him, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean, it's not your fault, I'm just tired –" but she couldn't finish, burying her face in his chest instead, allowing him to soak up the pain in some way.

"This won't last," he reassured, "I'll fight to get you back, and I know the others will too."

He felt her shake her head, "I've worked my whole life to get to where I am now, where I was," the correction harrows her, "and it's taken away from me, based on a story that's not even true, that I spent my whole career trying to avoid making true."

The words sting and although he knows she doesn't mean it as a direct insult to him, he feels the impact.

"I wouldn't change what we have," she catches his eye, needing him to understand that it's not about him, he's just as caught up in this mess as she is, "but sometimes, it's really fucking hard."

The night had ended with them taking an early night, Donna rejecting the offer for dinner, as had become a habit of hers since her suspension.

They held each other in silence that night, neither sure how to fill the space, what to say, where to go next.

Every day since had been hell without her at work. His panic attacks had returned at full force, at least one hitting a day, her absence at the firm triggering something in him he thought had died a long time ago.

And though the rational thought was always there at the back of his head, telling him he hadn't lost her, she was still his, he couldn't seem to reign the anxiety in.

He couldn't even bring himself to tell her, not wanting to add that weight to her already worn mind. Not even entirely sure how to tell her in the first place.

His timid steps echo loudly in the silence, as though he were stomping, entering the kitchen area and placing his brief case on the counter.

Tugging at the tie around his neck and slipping it off. Most of the lights were out, the fire unlit and the kitchen untouched since that morning, two mugs half full of coffee at opposite ends of the marble.

He moves toward the bedroom, glancing at his watch to find it's approaching ten o'clock, Donna already in bed, with only one lamp lighting the room. He approaches quietly, trying to gauge whether or not she's asleep.

"You're home," She mumbles, turning over to face him as he climbs into bed next to her, over the covers, wrapping an arm around her waist and placing a kiss on her bare shoulder, "It's late, did something happen at work?"

She misses the firm so much, the suspension making her feel a certain sense of disconnect from herself as well as the others. Feeling desperately out of the loop and without purpose, haunting Harvey's condo like a lost cause, rarely venturing outside the four walls.

"No, nothing exciting, just had a lot of paper work to catch up on." He explains, taking a better look at her, hair tied back messily and skin pale and bare, a tiredness resting over her demeanor despite her endless amounts of free time to sleep.

"Did you eat dinner?" he inquires, knowing already she hadn't.

"Yes." She lies through her teeth, diverting her eyes so he doesn't catch it but he's not as stupid as she takes him to be.

"Don't lie to me Don." He warns, and she glares at the tone.

"Don't speak to me like I'm a child, if I'm hungry, I'll eat, but I'm not so –"

"You can't carry on like this, you're going to make yourself sick," he argues, gentle but firm, his concern clear, "Not eating enough, staying in bed all day, but never actually sleeping –"

She doesn't answer because she knows it's true, huffing a sigh and turning over again, wrapping the covers around her tighter.

He knows that's the end of any reasonable conversation he's going to get from her tonight, and suddenly he doesn't feel all that hungry either, as if despite the current divide between them, they're still linked, feeling each other's lows.

He isn't long undressing and slipping under the sheets next to her. Both falling into an uneasy push and pull of broken sleep.

Why is it, that now they're together, they seem to be falling apart?

XXX

Heyyyy! I'm back with another (short) multi chapter. This one came as a result of a few different prompts which joined together to create the plot of this story, so thanks to Laura (@frenchdarvey) Cassandra (@followurShadow), Jess (@woahrafferty/takeyourside), And also to an anon on CC, who I wish I could thank personally!

Ps, check out these amazing ladies fics, they all write here as well!!

More to come soon and as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts.