A/N: During one of my countless rewatches, I began to wonder what that moment might have been like when Harvey told Donna about Lily for the first time. This is how this story was born. The quotes in italic at the beginning are taken from episode 7x07 (thanks AK) - the flashbacks in this episode being the timeframe in which this fic is set :)

Enjoy this little oneshot and if you did (and even if you didn't) I'd be incredibly happy if you'd let me know :)

Beginning to Heal

The golden liquid is meandering down his throat but the burning sensation is doing nothing to soothe the aching in the pit of his stomach. And if Harvey Specter was a man more in tune with his emotions, he'd know that the aching wasn't even situated in his stomach, but actually a few inches north, rooted deep inside of his heart.

If Harvey Specter was a man more in tune with his emotions, he'd know that the uneasiness that had taken a hold of him had nothing to do with his troubles at the firm, but everything to do with the thought of Donna currently celebrating her six month anniversary with Matt (he knows it's Mark, even though he'd never admit it).

If he was more in tune, he'd know that the thundering in his head wasn't just the fear of leaving the firm and Jessica behind but the mind-numbing terror of losing Donna in the process.

And while there is an inkling tickling at the corner of his consciousness, Harvey isn't more in tune and with another big gulp from his glass he hopes to find some peace and clarity. He can't even remember the last time he's felt this agitated. Usually, he's always on top of his game; knows which cards to play to get the exact outcome that he needs and wants, just like he knows when to throw them or when to go 'all in' -and that is one of his strongest suits.

In the darkness of the night and in the solitude of the firm however, he's never felt more lost than he does in this moment. The feeling is that much more aggravated by the fact that the one person he normally talks to about these kind of things is the one person he can't talk to, because he had missed doing so in the first place and with it had ended up making her upset with him. Just remembering the angry and disappointed look, the way her shoulders had slumped and her face had fallen when she walked out of his office earlier that day, still has Harvey's heart stinging in his chest.

The remaining liquid is downed in one go, before Harvey gets up to get another refill. With the glass in hand, he walks back to his chair; wishing for the umpteenth time that he had one of the offices big enough to fit a couch in. Instead, he has to get comfortable in his desk chair again, taking another sip from his scotch. At last, the alcohol is beginning to unfold its magic; his fingertips slightly tingling as he swirls the glass around in circles.

Like the Macallan is dancing in his hands, the faces and voices and words of Alex and Jessica are dancing in his mind.

"What if I had your back?"

"I care about what I'm doing which is to see if you can put that ego of yours aside and play the long game."

"I bet I could get you in as partner."

"I sucked it up for years, Harvey. Now it's your turn."

"Okay, Harvey, but if you want respect, you need to show some damn respect."

"It may be a done deal for you, but it isn't a done deal for me."

"Sometimes you have to bench your quarterback to show 'em who's running the team, whether you take a loss or not."

"I go in to stick my neck out for you, you don't come back and say you'll consider it. It's a done goddamn deal."

"You can't just make this kind of decision about my life without running it by me first."

The whirlwind of pictures and moments leave him dizzy, even more so when Donna's voice interweaves with the struggle in his head. He knows that he should have talked to her. And it's killing him to know that she's gone home while still being angry with him.

Crossing lines and crossing people are two areas Harvey has always excelled in, and it's a character trait he takes great pride in because he knows it would only aid in getting him far in the profession he's chosen. But crossing Donna, that is the one thing that rarely even crosses his mind. He hasn't quite figured out yet why that is (why he cares so much) but what he does know is, that things with her are different. Have been since the night they've met, and the awareness has only solidified since that one night still not too long ago.

Locked behind bars and doors and bricks; behind promises and honor and the unrelenting need to keep her in his life lie pictures of red flames and rosy lips setting his body on fire. They are right there, right beneath the surface the protective layer to those memories thinned by the alcohol currently flowing through his system. If he concentrated on it, he'd still feel her skin on his skin, he'd still have their scent in his nose and he'd still taste her kiss on his lips; and it would be so easy to indulge in the memory that is tickling at his thoughts.

But he couldn't. And he wouldn't, because there are other pressing matters at hand he needed to sort out.

Like, for example, if he had really made the right choices today. Was he justified in going to Alex to take him up on his offer? Was he ready to leave Jessica for good, after only having been back for just about a year? It's true that she's always had his back, and it's true that without her, he would never have had the chance to become the kind of lawyer he's always wanted to be. Without her guidance and her mentorship, who knows where he might be today. She was there when he was lost, saved him and put him back on the right track without asking for much in return.

Then why, just why couldn't she have stood up for him the one time it had counted the most? How could she have let Daniel and Louis – Louis of all people – stomp all over him and his reputation, just standing by and doing nothing? And not just doing nothing, but actually taking part in the humiliation, in front of a judge in court of all places, and for everyone to see? Why invest so much money in him and then just stop supporting him when the moment came?

Harvey's stomach is coiling; with hate and regret, and even more so with anger and disappointment.

Deep down he knows he's being irrational and hot headed but he also knows that he deserves to be Junior Partner more than anyone else in the firm. He knows it. And he knows that Jessica knows it, too. He deserves the bigger office with enough space for a freaking leather couch and he shouldn't have to sit back and play the long game, when he's earning them three times the amount of money that Louis ever will.

So how was he ever supposed to turn down a job that was offering him exactly what he wants, in the very moment he knows he deserves it? He'd get to work with one of his oldest friends and if only Donna would decide to come with him after all, he knows he could find family at Bratton Gould as well.

"Jessica is your biggest fan. She's always been in your corner."

And just like that, she is there again, her voice buzzing warningly through his head and guiding his thoughts like the compass she always is. Her red waves are the siren call to his foggy mind, calling forth reason and sanity and his sense of loyalty that's rooted so deeply in his DNA.

Harvey doesn't want to leave. Because he likes it here, too.

It's home. And Jessica is family.

And Donna is right.

He should at least talk to his boss and give her a chance to react. He knows he owes her that much.

So that's what he was going to do, first thing in the morning.

Because he doesn't want to leave. Not Jessica. And most definitely not Donna.

And just as red and hazel begin to invade his mind once more, he gulps down the remainder of his drink, before calling Ray and heading home for the night.

~o~o~

A pang of disappointment hits Harvey the next evening, when he finds Donna's cubicle empty after coming back from his trip to Bratton Gould. The fact that Alex hadn't killed him and the fact that he and Donna would be staying at the firm, together, sounds like a perfect and justifiable reason for a celebration. Only that the person he wanted to celebrate this victory with is nowhere to be seen.

At least nowhere to be seen, until he walks closer. That's when he spots her; his eyes instantly drawn to her dark silhouette hovering enticingly in one of the corners of his office, Harvard diploma in hands to get it back to its rightful place on the wall. Like a moth to a flame, Harvey strides through the darkened hallway and once he enters his office, he's happy and relieved to find it exactly the way it had been before he had begun to pack his things two hours prior.

"You're back," Donna states, balancing the frame against the wall for another second, before she turns around to look at her boss.

"You're here," Harvey returns, the hint of a smile on his lips as a funny feeling spreads deep within.

With a raised eyebrow, she examines him. "Where else would I be?"

"I don't know," Harvey shrugs nonchalantly, "home? With Matt?"

Donna rolls her eyes, seeing right through what Harvey is doing. "Mark," she corrects him nonetheless, watching him closely as he walks over to his chair while shrugging out of his jacket on the way. "But no. I wanted to get everything ready, so that we can all go back to normal starting tomorrow."

His expression softens further as he tentatively nods his head. "Thanks, Donna." There is an evident sense of gratitude in his voice, that vibrates with a softness that he rarely lets out.

"Always," Donna returns, and their gazes lock in one of those moments that not so long ago would have turned into something more. It doesn't anymore though. Because things are different now and have been ever since. And for just the briefest of seconds she wonders if they would ever be able to go back to the way they were before.

Before she can reach the devastating conclusion however, Harvey's voice pulls her out of her reverie.

"Care to join me for a celebratory drink?"

"Don't mind if I do," Donna replies with a smile, finally taking the seat opposite of Harvey.

Her eyes follow him as he first walks over to the left corner of his office, where he pushes some buttons on his record player; instantaneously eliciting the softest of jazz tunes from the device that melodically fills the silence of the otherwise abandoned fiftieth floor. Once he is satisfied with music and volume, he strides over to the dresser on the opposite wall, where he always keeps a decanter filled with his favorite Macallan at the ready, even though Donna is pretty much the only one he regularly invites into his office for drinks.

For a while (after that one night they had sworn to never talk about), they had wordlessly agreed on taking a break from spending time together once their work was finished. Too fresh were the memories of hungry lips and desperate touches, and too raw the need to have each other like that again to chance fate or temptation by dissolving boundaries with alcohol. They had only recently fallen back into their old ways, with the undeniable change now that his desk remained between them at all times, and that words of flirtation and suggestiveness are banned from their vocabulary when interacting in the solitude and intimacy of his office after nightfall.

Even their fingers don't brush (when it has been one of the main opportunities for skin on skin contact that they've regularly taken advantage of) as Harvey hands Donna her tumbler, before he moves around the table to take his seat once more.

"So… How did it go with Alex?" Donna wants to know and she can instantly see the tension sneaking back into his posture in a matter of seconds.

"He didn't murder me. So that's a start," Harvey shrugs, before he exhales loudly. "He wasn't happy, though."

"Yeah, I guess that was to be expected," Donna nods, leaning back in her chair and taking a swig from the scotch. "But, Harvey, you made the right choice."

"I know. I just really hated putting him in such a shitty position. You know I'm a man of my word when it comes to the people I care about."

"I do know that. But sometimes you have to do what's right. And leaving Jessica wouldn't have been right," she emphasizes, reminding him of it again so that he wouldn't forget it in the future.

"Luckily, I realized that in time," Harvey replies sheepishly, full well knowing that he wouldn't have realized a thing if it hadn't been for her and Jessica.

"Luckily, you did," Donna agrees with a knowing smirk on her lips. "You think Alex is going to be okay over there?"

"Yeah. I'm sure he will be," Harvey replies convinced. "And he knows that I owe him… so, if he should ever call in need of a favor, you can patch him through without any questions asked."

"Of course. I'll remember that," Donna assures him, before taking another sip of her drink; the alcohol for a second warming her tongue, before it disappears in the abyss of her body.

Apart from the music in the background, there is a momentary silence filling the room; both lost in thought as the past twenty-four hours pass in review. It's Harvey who finds his voice again first.

"Donna?"

"Hmm?"

"Are we going to be okay as well?" A slight hesitation and uncertainty strains his voice as he nervously looks at her.

"What do you mean?" Donna asks surprised, evenly circling the glass in her hands.

"What I mean is… I really am sorry for not having talked to you about the new job before I set everything in motion. I know that was wrong and I promise it won't happen again. No more life-altering decisions without talking them through with you first." He places a hand over his chest to accentuate his vow.

"I already forgave you when you apologized the first time, Harvey," Donna immediately replies, even though the remnants of her irritation still linger in the back of her mind.

"But I didn't apologize with the level of sincerity you deserve," Harvey says, his eyes unwavering as he looks into hers. "And I just want to make sure that you know that I'm not taking you for granted."

As his words - and especially the tone in which they are spoken - wash over her, something deep within her begins to tingle. Something she knows she would be able to name if only she wasn't so adamant on burying it beneath her rules and policies. It's become a familiar sensation, that tingle; way more familiar than it should be, and she knows she has to work harder on fighting it back in the future, if she wants to protect herself from the heartbreak it would undoubtedly entail.

"Thank you, Harvey, that really means a lot," she replies, a bright smile on her face to cover the emotions that would otherwise take residence.

Without saying anything more, Harvey leans over the table, extending the arm that is holding the glass. It is his own unobtrusive attempt to not lose his composure in the face of one of these moments he knows he lacks the emotional awareness to guide them through. "To things being back to normal."

"To things being back to normal," Donna agrees, returning the gesture and clinking her glass with his.

They each take a sip, before they lean back in their chairs again. Harvey places his tumbler on the surface before him and then begins to roll back the sleeves of his dress shirt. Donna's eyes are automatically drawn to the movement that has an almost meditative effect on her, if only she would allow it to. Instead, she clears her throat inconspicuously, her eyes finding his gleaming ones watching her.

It takes Donna another second to gather her thoughts but then she ever so quickly puts back on her poker face. "So… how are we getting you that bigger office now? I'd already picked out a fancy leather sofa for it before shit hit the fan."

In place of a quip remark or a finalized strategy, which Donna would have expected, all Harvey does is watch her quietly, as small smile is tugging at the left corner of his lip.

"What?" Donna asks after a couple of seconds with an eyebrow raised at him.

"You're so sure you know which one I'd like?"

"Oh please," Donna huffs instantly, as if it was a matter of course, "when have I ever not been able to anticipate your wants and needs?"

And even though the words couldn't have been further from being flirty, both of their minds simultaneously rush to that time when she had taken care of his wants and needs so perfectly it still made it hard to move on from.

"Right," Harvey murmurs and the glint that flashes through his eyes is gone as quickly as it came. "That's why you're the best secretary in town," he says then to redirect their conversation and thoughts, and just like that, the tension is back to its (unnormal) normal hum in the background.

"In town?" Donna asks, crossing her arms in front of his body as she looks at him expectantly.

"Alright, in the States then," Harvey replies with a teasing hint in his voice and expression.

Donna just keeps a straight face, her eyes not wavering a bit as she waits for him to pronounce the correct answer.

"You're very sure of yourself," Harvey says, shaking his head disbelievingly, no longer able to keep the smile from his face.

"What, do you know anyone that's better than me?" Donna challenges him with a spark in her own eyes. This, they could do. The easy, work-related banter is unproblematic and innocuous; and it's definitely helping her to further relax the nervous tension that had been building inside of her.

"You're the only secretary I've ever had, Donna. How am I supposed to know what kind of talent might still be out there?"

"You've had Tina."

"Who?"

"Tina. My predecessor."

"Her name was Tina?"

"Harvey."

"What? That was a life-time ago."

"I understand how me coming into your life has only really started your life, but you should at least try and remember some of the names you've worked with. You never know when you might need those people again."

"Is it enough if I promise you that I'll always remember your name?"

The alcohol must really be weakening her wit by then because once again Donna has a hard time to not get hung up on his words, that seem to carry so much more weight tonight than they normally do. The fact that Harvey catches her off-guard the second time in the course of an hour should definitely be a telltale sign for her to go home, and yet, somehow, she can't bring herself to move or wanting to leave.

Harvey studies her for a moment, then gulps down half of his Macallan, before saving her from her loss of words; gentleman that he is.

"Anyway… how was your evening with Matt?"

Donna releases an internal sigh of relief at the change of topics, even when the next one poked at her heart just as much. "My date with Mark… was… nice."

The stumbling in her voice triggers a curious expression to flash over Harvey's face. "Nice?"

Donna looks down into her folded hands, her fingers fidgeting with each other like they always do when she's nervous. Wordlessly, she finds his eyes again, that are looking back at her with restrained curiosity.

"What happened?" He coaxes her cautiously, torn between not really wanting to hear about Donna's love life and the concern for her that the undertone in her words had elicited.

"Why would you think that something happened?"

"I might not be as good at knowing people as you are, but I do know you."

She thinks about that for a moment; deciding if she should comment on his statement or not, risking getting into another bantering exchange that had the power to turn dangerous if only to divert from the truth that might be equally so. But Donna knew that Harvey was right and that there is no use in pretending that he isn't, because the truth would come out sooner or later anyway.

"Well… It was nice. Until Mark broke up with me."

"Are you serious? He broke up with you on your six-month anniversary? What a dick!"

"No, Harvey. It was my fault," Donna retorts instantly, not wanting him to get worked up about it, even when the agitation in his voice shoots straight for that place inside of her that she's trying to fight against.

"How could it ever be your fault?" Harvey wants to know, the thought that any sane man would ever voluntarily break up with a woman like Donna too inconceivable even for someone like him. Because, even though he might not be the kind of man to ever have meaningful relationships doesn't mean that he isn't fully aware of the fact that Donna is the perfect woman. And he sure as hell knows that if she were his, he'd move heaven and earth to make her as happy as he could so she'd stay by his side forever.

Just then, her voice pulls him back from his train of thought to no man's land.

"I couldn't give him what he needed." The irony of what she's saying isn't lost on either of them but it's another one of these things they couldn't allow themselves to dwell on.

"And what would that be?"

Donna falls quiet for a moment, while she tries to come up with the right thing to say. She doesn't want to lie to Harvey, because she has never done so in all the time they've known each other. But telling him the truth about how Mark had practically made her chose between himself and Harvey is a detail she isn't yet ready to share with him, for how could she even begin to explain what it all meant. So, in the end, she opts for the next best thing closest to the truth. "Reassurance," she says with a shrug. "He and I just want different things in life."

He studies her for a moment, regret and concern blurring in the depth of his dark eyes. "I'm sorry, Donna."

"It's okay, don't worry." She smiles back at him, internally grateful that he didn't inquire any further than that.

"Are you okay?" The sincerity in his question isn't borne out of general civility but undeniably out of concern for her; and Donna hates how seeing that caring side of him (when all day his armor and "caring makes you weak" behavior might convince one that it doesn't exist) stokes that tiny flicker of hope inside of her. Hope, that maybe, one day…

Refocusing her thoughts before they have a chance to get lost, Donna sighs. "I will be, yeah."

"Is there anything I can do?"

With a sheepish smile, Donna looks down into her glass before she gulps down the remaining content of her glass. "You can get me another one of those?"

At her request, Harvey's forehead creases in surprise because it's been a while since they'd dared to extend their after-work drinks to two. Without saying anything though, he finishes off his own drink and gets up to get them both a refill.

"You know, I say screw relationships," Harvey states on his way back, while handing Donna her tumbler. "That's exactly why I don't do them. Someone always ends up getting hurt. Or worse, scarred for life."

There is an urge to chuckle at his grim outlook on relationships but something in the way he voices it makes her hesitate. "Not every relationship leaves people hurt or scarred, Harvey." Donna objects, eying him curiously as he gets seated again.

"Yeah well… that's not my experience," Harvey huffs, taking a sip from his Macallan to fight the unease that's tugging at his soul.

The alcohol that is running through her system is apparently not just killing her wit, it's also either making her tremendously brave or incredibly stupid, because it's the only explanation and justification for the words that slip out next.

"Okay, Harvey, spill it. Which girl was it that broke your heart and messed you up like this?"

Immediately, a dark shadow flashes over his face and for a second Donna is terrified that she's irrevocably crossed a line. She can see his jaw flexing, his tongue swirling the liquid in his mouth before he swallows it down. His eyes find hers, and the Harvey sitting in front of her is all of a sudden a Harvey she's never seen before.

Open. Vulnerable. Raw.

His voice cold and detached.

"My mother."

His pain and anger is reverberating through his words and it slams into Donna like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind right out of her. A wave of regret washes over her and she wants to bite her tongue for having been so imprudent.

For two long years, certain topics between them had always remained untouched. Harvey's past – at least the romantic and personal part of it – has been the main one. She has been introduced to his father and brother through the telephone a few months into their working relationship but from the way his mother had hardly ever been mentioned, she's gathered that his parents must have separated. Once, late at night over drinks, she had cautiously tried to find out more about it but Harvey had ended that conversation before it had any chance to begin. From that point onwards, she's never dared to ask again and had she known that this would be his reply, she'd never have said anything to begin with.

"I'm sorry, Harvey… I didn't mean to pry…," she mumbles apologetically.

"You didn't…. don't worry," he reassures her with a weak smile, as his eyes drift into the distance.

For a long while, soft saxophone tunes are the only sound that's being made. It's a source of calm for Donna, who struggles to find the right words to say, as his inner turmoil seeps into her like it is her own. And it's a source of comfort for Harvey; his father's music instilling a feeling of safety in a moment when emotions that he doesn't know how to handle threaten to overpower him. And then he looks at her again, and her warm eyes and the reassurance in her expression expand that feeling of safety, that wraps around him like a blanket.

"I came home from school one day… I think I was about eight or nine years old… too young to really understand what was happening. But old enough to know that something wasn't right when I found my mom in her bedroom with a man that wasn't my dad." He gulps down another sip, quietly hissing as the alcohol burns its way down his throat. "She said something about him being a cousin… but I knew she was lying," Harvey's voice breaks under the hatred that's pushing its way through and as she watches him struggling to get the words out, her heart aches painfully for him. "She asked me to keep it a secret… asked me to not tell my dad about it."

Donna sees the emotions flashing through his eyes, that almost seem to water under the pressure of the truth. Judging by his strong reaction, she can only guess that Harvey doesn't talk about it very often and that what had happened back then had changed his life forever.

Before she can say anything; ask anything, Harvey already continues. "You'd think she would have stopped jumping into bed with other men… after I caught her. But she didn't. Instead she just continued straight on…"

With the change to the next song, a momentary silence fills the office, that all of a sudden feels way too small for all the words said and all the words left unsaid. Harvey's gaze drifts to a spot next to Donna's head and it's written all over his face how much he's struggling with all of the demons inside of him. She studies him carefully, as she gives him time to get his bearings.

There are so many questions she wants to ask, not just out of the burning desire to learn more about the man who's taken over her life, but also because deep down she can feel that him opening up about it would set something in motion.

The longer she watches him, tension taking a hold of his whole body, the more she's convinced that his mother is a topic he never really talks about even when it's apparent that he should. She doesn't have to be a therapist to see how deep that knife sits and how it's eating away at him, one bite at a time. If things were different, she'd reach over the table and take his hand into hers, telling him that it would all be okay. If things were different, she might even walk around the table and close the distance, wrapping her arms around him in a reassuring embrace. Her body - every single nerve ending inside - is tingling with the need and desire to physically comfort him, knowing that she could do. Knowing that he would let her, judging by the lost expression in his eyes. But she couldn't. No matter how much she wanted to. So, she decides to rely on her words instead, hoping that they might be as helpful as a touch could be.

"And you've kept her secret? You never told your dad?"

It takes Harvey a moment to shift his attention back to the woman before him. Donna's words are like a lifeline, saving him from drowning in the craters of his reopened wounds. For just a second, he wants to curse himself. For having been so stupid to let his guards down, when there are a million reasons why he usually doesn't - not wanting anyone to know about his weaknesses obviously being the most prominent one. And yet, there is something about Donna that reassures him. Something that lets him know that he would always be safe with her. And that he could trust her, even with his demons.

"For a long while, I did, yeah. Until I no longer could," he explains, shoulders slumping as more memories come rushing back. He can still feel the pain in his fist after punching his dad, can still feel the pain in his side from the counterstrike; it, like everything else in regard to his mother's indiscretion, burned into his soul forever.

"What happened?"

"It was years later… I was doing an internship at a law firm between semesters at that time… and when I came home from work I walked in on mom and Bobby. A couple of days later, dad brought Bobby over for dinner. That was when I snapped," Harvey explains, his eyes firmly fixed on Donna in an unrelenting attempt to keep himself grounded. "She begged me not to tell him… told me to not be the reason to rip apart our family… But I was so angry. At my mom. At Bobby. At my dad. I mean, how could he have been so blind? How could he not have seen what's been happening right under his nose?"

Donna contemplates her reply for a moment, not even sure if he expects one or if it was just a rhetorical question. When the silence stretches however, she does come up with an answer; the words immediately hitting a little too close to home as well. "I think sometimes we just can't or don't want to see what's right in front of our face. To protect ourselves."

"But he should have seen it. He should have relieved me from that burden," Harvey retorts with a sigh.

Donna nods understandingly, the drop in his voice another arrow aiming for her heart. "Your mom shouldn't have put that burden on you in the first place."

"Yeah, she shouldn't have…" Harvey agrees with a shake of his head that's barely even visible.

Donna can almost hear her heart beating in her ears, could almost even hear his heart beating in her ears, if it weren't for the music that is filling another quietness that is expanding between them. The tension is sizzling; fueled by more words that need to be said.

"So…," Donna begins again and Harvey's eyes refocus. "Since she never came up until now… I guess you aren't really talking to her?" Donna wants to know, hoping that she wouldn't push him too far by inquiring more.

"What would I have to say to that woman? The more distance there is between us, the better. It's enough that I'll never…" His words break off and there is an uncertain hesitation flashing over his face, that he tries to cover by bringing his glass to his lips and emptying it in one go.

Not breaking the gaze even once, Donna keeps a close eye on his reactions to not miss the feasible lines of their boundaries that are beginning to blur. "That you'll never…?"

"That thanks to her, I'll never have a family of my own."

At the defeat in his voice, Donna's heart shatters in her for the millionth time that night. "Harvey, why would you even think that?"

"Because obviously it's in my DNA to be an ass. And I will never voluntarily put anyone through that."

"You know that's not how this works, right?"

Harvey just shrugs nonchalantly, his mind already moving five steps ahead again. Or in this particular case, five steps into the past. A wildfire of pictures and emotions is raging inside of him, the Macallan the oil that stokes it even more. He'd have thought that with enough time passing, it would get easier to deal with it all but if anything, he realizes, the flames scorch his soul even more. His eyes drift to the decanter by the wall and for a second he considers getting himself a third drink because at one point it had to turn from oil to water and extinguish the fire, right?

'Not as long as a different kind of fire is sitting right in front of you,' a tiny voice whispers in his ear, and it's in this very moment that a red blaze is pulling him back.

"So, what you're saying is that you never want to have a family? Get married? Have kids?"

Her questions have the power to set off another avalanche altogether, one so deadly that he knows he won't be able to survive it with everything else that's already weighing on him. Not willing to get into it any deeper than he already had, he decides to put back up some of the walls that had turned into rubble over the course of the night. With the real truth stuck in a corner deep within, Harvey goes for the next best thing.

"I have a family. There's my dad and Marcus," he replies definitively, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of him. "And Jessica, who is family just as much," he states, before adding after just another second, "as are you."

Donna's eyes widen at his admission, while Harvey's expression remains unchanged; his features demurer than before but still with a distractingly soft expression in his eyes. It's almost enough to divert from the fact that it's not really the answer to the question she's asked and due to the evasiveness of his reply, Donna realizes that their conversation is coming to an end.

Harvey studies her intently, and on her face, he can see the effect his words have had on her, even when she doesn't say a single thing. As he focuses on the spark in her hazel eyes, he can feel the heaviness of the moment slowly dying away.

And for a while, the pair just sits.

Harvey's father is still playing his saxophone in the background unperturbed, while the rhythm and melody of the song are further calming and soothing the atmosphere. Neither is really able to let go of the other just yet, both still too caught up in the moment they've shared.

As Donna watches him, one last burning question is sneaking its way to the forefront of her mind.

"Harvey?"

"Hmm?"

"May I ask you one last question?"

"Would it stop you if I said 'no'?" He asks, the seriousness in his expression not able to hide the slight teasing in his voice.

"Of course," Donna shoots back instantly and sincerely.

A slow smile tugs at the corner of his lips, before he gently nods.

"Do you…" Donna begins, contemplating for another second if she should really bring it up again. "Do you ever see yourself… you know… maybe forgiving her?"

"No. She's destroyed enough. I'm not gonna give her the chance to do it again."

"But, Harvey-"

"No but, Donna," he responds sternly, his voice matching the look in his eyes now. "It is how it is. And I didn't tell you so you could talk me into fixing anything."

For three long heartbeats, another pregnant quietness lies in the space between them, before the next words already tumble out of Donna, already knowing that it is a bad idea the moment they do.

"Why did you tell me?"

"Because…" Harvey says, sitting up straighter in his chair. "Because I felt like I could share it with you, without it having to entail anything."

Donna looks at him for a second, regret softening her expression. "And it doesn't… I'm sorry if I gave you that feeling," she apologizes.

"It's okay, don't worry," Harvey quickly reassures her, sinking back against his chair again; eyes never leaving hers.

"You don't share this information about your past very often, do you?"

"No. No, I don't," Harvey confirms with a shake of his head and even though the moment had the power to turn intense again, it somehow doesn't. Because somehow, he can feel that it is no longer about him and his mother but actually about him and Donna. And that sets off a whole different kind of tension inside of him.

"Why with me then?" She doesn't even really know what's gotten into her at this point or why she couldn't just shut up. There's something about the way he keeps looking at her that triggers a level of boldness she hasn't felt in a very long time.

'Because she's different,' that tiny voice inside of him whispers again, and he'd even have missed it if his senses hadn't been heightened the way that they are. 'Different how, though?' he asks back, and patiently waits for an answer that never comes.

She's daring him, that much he can tell; and if the conversation they've led before hadn't taken such a toll on him, he'd be inclined to find out what it's all about. Because something is more different tonight than any other night they've shared; including the one they've sworn to never talk about. But deep down he knows that he's in no state of mind to cross that line with her tonight as well, even when an all too familiar sensation begins to prickle on his skin.

They hold each other's gazes wordlessly; everything they would say if they weren't who they are transpiring between them just like that. They'll add it to that pile of conversations they should be conducting out loud but are too afraid to do so. It's a pile that will grow exponentially over the course of a decade; turning into a mountain of unsaid words until the final one will set an avalanche in motion that would either bury them beneath or finally set them free. Neither of them has the foresight to visualize it just yet; the things they'd do in the future, the things they'd say and those they won't say; the pain they'd put each other through deliberately and unconsciously; all the wrong turns they'd take before they would finally get it right.

With a sigh, Donna uncrosses her legs and sits up straight. "Alright," she nods, realizing that she doesn't need a vocal explanation for something that they both aren't ready to deal with. "I think I should head home now. It's getting late," she states instead, downing the last sip of her drink.

Harvey nods, and the remaining intimacy of the moment dissolves into thin air; catapulting them back to the harsh reality of rules and boundaries that can't be broken. And with the dissolving of their moment, the walls inside of Harvey fully build themselves up again.

"Do you want me to call Ray for you before I leave?"

"Nah, it's okay, thanks. I have to take care of a few more things before I can call it a night."

"Anything you need help with?"

"No, it's okay, Donna. You should really go home."

This time it's Donna who nods, before she reluctantly gets up from her chair. With one last tentative smile at him, she turns around and begins to walk. It feels weird to leave him now, like this, after what they've shared. But for now, it is clear that Harvey's all talked out.

The fact that he even had confided in her the way that he had, still has Donna's heart thumping incessantly in her chest. She knows they've been treading very dangerous ground tonight. Because even though they've agreed to never mention their night again, to never get close and intimate again; this conversation had felt every bit as intimate as the moment his body had sunk into hers. And with frightening clarity Donna realizes that this kind of intimacy with him might be even more of a downfall for her than sex could ever be. And that there was no going back for her, ever. The thought makes her want to run. To hide. To cry.

But instead, she takes a deep breath and turns back to look at Harvey. Their eyes lock once more and curiosity creases his forehead.

"Harvey, you're a good man. You are kind and you are caring, even if you don't want the world to see it," Donna states with conviction, that almost but not quite covers the outpour of emotions. "But I see you. And I tell you, please don't let your mother's mistakes define who you think you are… Don't let them define your future."

Donna turns around and walks out before Harvey has any chance to react. Her silhouette disappears in the darkness of the fiftieth floor and a longing he's never felt before gurgles in the pit of his stomach.

And if Harvey Specter was a man more in tune with his emotions, he'd know that the longing wasn't aching in his stomach, but actually a few inches north, rooted deep inside of his heart.

The inkling is becoming more apparent though, when he feels the first fissures of his heart not just closing back up but actually beginning to heal.

~o~o~

A/N: Once again this story wouldn't have been possible without the unwavering support and input from Nannalyn and Emily. You girls are amazing and I will be forever grateful for your guidance and your friendship. xoxo