Alright, here we are again! I'm taking this brand new story to you in hopes it can go on smoothly. Now, the last one helped me understand better how it's like to find your balance, but I still struggle a little with multi-chapters and this one in particular is tough.

This is also why I would really appreciate if someone could maybe get a look at my current work. I'm new about betas and everything and have no clue about the dynamics, but if someone would like to give me an opinion without too much obligation, I'd be glad.

So, we're in season six, where we unfortunately didn't get a lot of Darvey scenes, but don't worry, in this fic there's going to be more than enough action! This chapter deals with the events of the first two episodes, and almost all of them are real, except this time we see them influenced by something that happened during the first one! Have fun reading!

G-

Chapter 1: I can't handle change

To trouble.

They had clinked expensive glasses, filled with even more expensive scotch, in honor of the 'trouble' maker that had them get together in Harvey's office in the middle of the night in the first place. The firm was deserted, except for the five of them and the dedicated IT employee, Benjamin.

As much as the situation had an uncanny similarity with a funny modern replica of the Breakfast Club, what was underneath was far more severe. They weren't teenagers strolling down the hallway of their high school, but goddamn grownups lurking inside their fort, making it look alive from the outside.

Instead of the common law of nature 'fake death to survive', they had chosen to take the complete opposite direction, pretending to be still standing to protect themselves and prevent their imminent dismantlement.

Curious enough, Harvey mirrored the building's emptiness perfectly. He appeared stern and in control, lively even — now that he was under the effects of the joint he had smoked with the other name partners — but in reality he was just burying down the guilt that was threatening to eat him alive.

Despite the self-consciousness that what they had done hadn't been an unilateral choice, therefore neither the consequences, he couldn't help but constantly remind himself that Mike was sitting inside a cell instead of him. The kid was the one and only reason he got to spend the night in his own bed; tonight and every night for the next two years. Damn it, it was going to be hard. And that made him feel even worse, because he'd been thinking about himself when it must be totally harder for Mike.

The space was filled with silence, sign of mutual respect for the missing piece of their unwritten group. Each of them succumbed in their own melancholic travel down the memory line, trying to understand how they got there, but more importantly, where they'll go next. The quietness wasn't awkward, they didn't need to engage any kind of conversation — they certainly weren't gathered there for that.

They simply didn't want to be alone. Some of them acknowledging that more than others, but the urge to find strength in each other and to be with the only ones that could truly understand what they were going through was undeniable.

They were adjusting, figuring out the next move to raise, like the phoenix from the ashes. Save the savable, and hopefully get Mike out of that hell of a place too.

Ignoring that his thoughtful cell-mate was really pulling all the strings behind their backs, the text from his former associate made Harvey believe that, at least for the night, everything was going smoothly.

Four or five hours in, everyone had finally given up to exhaustion and gone home. Well, everyone except Donna. But that wasn't anything new.

She had always been the exception. The one who had stood by his side, step by step — always guiding, never pushing — not once abdicating the unsung role of loyal and supportive consultant in his life. A role which no one had ever asked her to chair. She, the silent leader of everything that he is, the reason of everything that he's ever accomplished.

Donna could've really had everything —certainly more than he had to offer — and she had never asked anything in return. Yet, she had given all of herself to him, wholeheartedly.

Thinking about it, that woman had always been his voice of reason, his moral compass, and maybe he didn't give her enough credit.

She had never allowed anyone to see her break a sweat, but Harvey figured she must be suffering too. And maybe it was time they let each other take a piece 'cake', to equally share and make the pain more bearable.

It was useless to try and shrink a cubic box into a squared one. It wouldn't fit.

Their minds weren't apparently adequate to survive alone, or maybe they were but they didn't necessarily have to live without each other. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to let the curtain of the show fall, and show off what the backstage truly held.

It was probably because of the commotion that surrounded them, or the thrill that having the firm all for themselves brought, or the need to feel something rather than perdition, that they did what they did later. One moment their fingers were merely brushing against each other, when she had handed him the spent drinks, the next Donna was hopped onto the surface of Harvey's desk, with him buried deep inside of her.

The couple then took a cab, wordlessly, heading to the nearest of their apartments, with the droplets of sweet sweat still glistening their temples, and bellies still contracted by their post-coital haze. They kept the twelve-years-in-the-making rendezvous going almost all night, wrapped in each other's embrace and fucking every other thought that wasn't the way they felt against each other out of their heads.

After too little hours of sleep, they woke up together, in Harvey's bed, sun hitting their naked bodies fully, since that man clearly liked French windows. As much as he had feared the confrontation that the 'morning after' would have eventually brought, Harvey soon found Donna thinking the same: it wasn't the right time.

The fault weren't his commitment issues, neither her not being on the same page, but they both realized that trying to turn their night into something more lasting wasn't probably the best call. At least right now. Their energies had to be focused solely and totally on Mike, and getting the firm back on its feet. Embarking a relationship with this new set of priorities could probably end them before they even started. And that couldn't happen. There was too much at stake and they cared too much about each other. They had to keep their impending goal in mind, not allowing any kind of distraction.

It was a raincheck, really. Once it all started to look more like normality, then they would talk. No hard feelings. Easy. Like drinking a glass of water. At least that's what they told themselves to not listen to their hearts virtually breaking, after leaving without turning around and heading to opposite directions. The taste of each other's lips still vividly printed, almost carved, in their memory.

Donna told herself to be on top of her game. Efficient, like she had never been before. She knew Jessica, as well as Louis and everyone else, all needed her, and she wasn't about to shy away from a challenge.

At least not now when she was needed the most.

Because she may not be the one with a Harvard degree, or the one signing clients, yet, her charming ability and maneuvering skills topped that all. Not to mention that she knew well her colleagues, and was aware that sooner or later they would blame each other for this mess.

Harvey for hiring a fraud.

Jessica for not supervising it all.

Louis for using Mike's secret as a way to get his name on the wall.

It was her job to be their voice of reason, and silently pulling the strings if necessary. It could be excruciating sometimes, but, at the end, she did it because she truly cared about them — because she believed in them. And having the few ones that stayed around at each other's throats wasn't an option. They needed to understand they were all in the same boat.

Donna came to realize that maybe it wasn't necessarily bad that everyone was gone. It could be a good opportunity to help them all get closer, but it did wonders particularly for her persona. As a matter of fact, her sticking around made her feel like she was an integral part of the institution she had fought teeth and nails for, that helped build up and supported in growing — and when something hers was threatened, she was all in.

No one touched her family.

So when she had heard that Rachel was prevented to see Mike, she had presented to her door, smoothies in hand, knowing smile and impeccable outfit. She had, yet again, stepped into the already heated shoes of the 'adjuster', a human Alexa, always ready to fulfill your needs. (Better not thinking about hers at the moment.)

Perhaps, arranging a visit to prison for her best friend was the perfect excuse to push away the night she had just shared with Harvey. And even if the ghost of his soft lips still hovered her sensitive neck, Donna was a willful woman — she sucked it up and went on. Gritting her teeth, but her legs most of all.

As she stepped out of her friends' building, Rachel in tow, she welcomed the new version of herself.

She was fresh. She was ready. She was whole and fine.

She was the Donna they all needed her to be.

As for Harvey, things weren't going as well as someone would think.

Point taken for the commitment, but he didn't seem able to be as well-functioning as Donna. The problem had presented itself when Rachel had come to his office, flustered and annoyed, implying that something had happened to Mike. Despite acting cool and not fomenting her worry, Harvey smelled trouble.

Donna was there too.

It had been his first interaction with her after... well, after. He realized in that moment they had indeed done the right thing deciding to wait. Even if waiting had become increasingly more difficult — their impromptu sex the blatant proof of that — they clearly had their hands full of something else. Starting anything rushed — product of fear and scare to be lonely, right when the next problem was just around the corner — was not fair to any of them.

So he had addressed her in the most professional way he knew — instructing her to arrange things with Ray to drive him to Danbury.

Business, as usual.

Harvey's fears were soon confirmed by a quick visit to Mike, who acknowledged his bickering with Frank Gallo, the accessory to murder he put behind the bars when he was just a fellow ADA. That man was a loaded gun, ready to shoot, and Harvey couldn't accept that. As much as he could have just lifted a finger and make this 'bump in the road' just disappear, Mike basically forced him to sit tight and have faith that he could handle it on his own. But how was he supposed to do that, lie to his friend's fiancée and handle the lawsuits that were thrown to his face, all without exploding? Fucking impossible.

As cherry on top of the cake, Elliott Stemple had the audacity to ask him to choose between an unutterable amount of money or his duck painting, in exchange of freeing Pearson Specter Litt from bankruptcy.

And that, that almost killed him. He had tried to play it cool, but Stemple saw right through his façade and pressed right were it hurt.

Harvey was left dumbfounded, not able to access a such despicable gesture. He had a handful of seconds to make one of the most rending decisions of his life: to save the last good memory of a lost family, or to save the firm that had slowly become one itself?

"Take the painting." He chocked out — hating himself for the quiver in his voice.

At the end, he had thought about what was best for everyone, willing to let go of the last piece of him that kept his mother close, at least somehow. He had sacrificed what was long lost to what he could still hold onto. It had made sense.

Yet, that too familiar feeling of guilt and helplessness was still very much present, so Harvey came to seek comfort to the only place that came to his mind. He presented himself to the 206 apartment that night — almost pleading Donna to take him in her arms and make it all go away. Or at least make him forget.

The second she had seen the look on his face, she instantly figured that something was off. He was like a lost sailor, more of a lost child, and that irrepressible need of protection towards him made her understand that whatever was bugging him had something to do with his mother.

So she opened the door to her house — as well as her heart — and patiently listened to him. She had wanted to be close to him, breaking her rule for what was now the third time — allowing herself to make love to and with him once more.

It didn't get lost on both of them how easier it had been to fall into bed again, and how harder it was to leave.

This time, Donna had truly understood the sense of 'you can never go back', and even if in the past she had managed to swallow those feelings that threatened to surface, now something was definitely making the difference. This time something was definitely going to break.

"We can't do this anymore, Harvey." She had reasoned with heavy heart. "We agreed that it would have been distracting."

Harvey wanted to shout what a couple of idiots they were, that maybe supporting each other that way could be beneficial during these though times. But what came out was only a nod of his head.

Not now, maybe soon — he thought.

A couple of days later, things had quickly escalated when Cahill had vaguely hinted that Mike was dipping his toes in the water with an informer, position that made Gallo basically untouchable.

Harvey had to postpone of an hour an important business dinner with that 'asshole' — as he liked to call him — of Nathan Burns, with the number one aim to sign him.

The firm was in need of a high-profile client, to send a message of strength to the outside world, while he could not accept William Sutter's offer.

Nevertheless, Mike was in deep trouble and his safety came first. The other obligations would have to wait.

After the seemingly fair heated conversation with his incarcerated friend, provoked by his recent founding, during his visit hours, Harvey was making his way to the parking lot of the prison.

Spotting a black Lexus, he gladly found out that Ray had already arrived to pick him up.

"What you doing here again, Specter?" A rather marked voice called from behind. The familiar strong accent far too pungent on his back. What a metaphor.

He slowly turned around, already bothered by the imminent and unwanted conversation. His eyes settled around the partially hunched frame of Frank Gallo, leaning against the security fence wrapping the grey courtyard of Danbury.

"I could ask you the exact same thing." Harvey promptly bit back, approaching the other end of the iron line. "Missing me already? It hasn't been that long since you've last been expecting me out here."

Gallo laughed heartily.

"Just because I wanted to make sure you'd still rush here to any of your protege's booty calls." He snickered, amicably patting his two companions' massive chests.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but it was actually me who called."

"Oh," Gallo's face broke in fake disbelief, "I actually thought Mike, here, wanted you to come to the rescue... after what happened to his friend."

Harvey's blood begun to boil into his veins.

"What did you do?" He asked menacingly, stepping a few feet closer till they were almost face-to-face.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I just know that that poor thing, Kevin, got beaten up pretty badly..." He trailed off.

Harvey didn't hesitate one second before angrily slamming his fist against enclosure, hoping to get to his smug face.

"Harvey!" A feminine voice reached his ears. Her voice. His animal instincts suddenly dried out as a warming sense of tenderness filled him. He turned around to meet Donna's exquisite form, stepping out of his car, a signal she was probably waiting for him inside, but had decided to intervene after witnessing the whole scene.

"Donna?" He wondered under his breath, but loud enough for the other's to hear.

"You need to get back to the office. Now." She shouted from her position — voice steady, but also colored with a hint of plead.

Harvey watched between her distant silhouette and Gallo, addressing him again, "If that happens one more time, I swear to-"

"Harvey!" Donna recaptured his attention, this time a little bit more demanding.

Please — her eyes seemed to be saying — it's not worth it.

And with that last bump, he threw one more hateful look at the convict and his sidekicks, and then walked away.

In that moment, for the tiniest bit, so faint she can affirm it happened only in her imagination, as Donna silently withdrew her winning, her eyes found Gallo's.

In that split of seconds, their gazes locked together, and she felt something sinister invading her. A chilling sixth sense, that she instantly tried to shake away, diverting her attention to Harvey joining her in the car.

As he stepped into the vehicle, she could swear she still sensed his somber stare.

"Who's that?" Gallo asked to his tall dark-haired inmate, nodding in the direction of the already gone car.

"Who? Red?" He continued spurred by Frank's quiet response, "Dunno. As far as I've heard her name's Donna and she works with him. I might have it looked it up, if you want to."

"You saw how mr. wild stallion became all soft with just a word from that woman. Trust me," he added with a mischievous grin and a pat on the shoulder, "she's a keeper."

Alright, if you arrived here, thank you for giving this first chapter a try! I promise you that if you tune in for the next chapter(s), you won't regret it. Let's just say that the title is very meaningful for where this fic will head. Spread kindness and leave a review if you can!