And Then You Were Gone

Chapter 1 - Regret

Author's Notes: *deep breaths* So this was a vague idea that has been percolating in my head, based on conversations that I've had with various people about Season 5 and everything that happened in there. One of my major quibbles with the season was the complete lack of insight into how Donna coped with the separation from Harvey: the show made her seem almost cold and uncaring, especially given how unaware she was with what was going on with him, which in my own opinion, was very un-Donna.

That being said, I also have wanted to see explore what could have happened if the panic attack that Harvey has in 5x03 had a much bigger impact on events: would that have given Donna a way to understand her own actions and motivations in leaving Harvey and going to Louis?

Thanks, as always, to my personal cheerleader and light in my life, Nathalie for being the one to encourage me into telling this story, and for the title of this story. This is for you, girl.

She'd left work early. Following her argument with Harvey, she'd gone through the rest of her day almost on auto-pilot, before she'd claimed fatigue and begged off. Louis had been understanding, which was more than she could say for Harvey in these past few days.

It had taken a piece of her, saying those parting words to Harvey before she'd stormed out, brushing past Mike and unwilling to help him with anything Harvey needed at that moment. She was done.

She took a fortifying sip of her chamomile, and sniffled. The words she'd spat at him rang in her head again, bringing with them a feeling she'd been trying to shake for the whole day. An unsettling feeling had settled low in the pit of her stomach, which she'd earlier dismissed as anger - and she had been furious at him, she knew that. She'd let them out at him, determined in the moment to make him feel her own pain.

"What makes you think that if I were ever to leave Louis, I would ever, ever come back to you?"

Ever since those words left her mouth, she'd felt the bitterness of them linger with her all day. However, here in the loneliness of her own apartment, away from the chaos of the firm, what came back to haunt her were the seconds before she'd turned around to leave. She'd felt a momentary sense of triumph at getting the last word in, before her gaze caught his own. And then she'd seen something break behind his eyes before they turned glassy, and he broke the gaze. However, she hadn't lingered to give it any further thought, her only aim being to get as far away as possible from him.

But now, it haunted her. Recalling the deep cutting nature of her words combined with the way his deep brown gaze that had splintered in the wake of her words, Donna felt the unease multiply. She moved her feet restlessly on her couch, in a feeble attempt to shake the feeling off.

It was what she wanted, wasn't it? To move on? From him?

She'd be able to find the same satisfaction from her work with Louis, after all. And he actually let her know she was appreciated. It was a good feeling, having someone reciprocate and care for her the way she cared for them.

However, even as she forced the thought, she recognised the lie in them, when her ever-treacherous heart decided to step up its game, contradicting her thoughts with images of late nights and Scotch in the quiet of his office

- of flowers that had graced her dressing table, putting an extra spring in her performance on closing night

- of long afternoons spent at Nougatine and Hermès that had healed her broken heart

- of trials and can openers and thumbtacks and celebratory drinks that followed those trials

- of his desperation and fear that she'd be going to jail, the softness in his eyes when he'd told her how much her faith meant to him

- of his knowing look when he'd told her he l-

No.

She scoffed at herself for having gone there again. She'd done the right thing: she was moving on, and Harvey knew it now and he wouldn't be able to stop her.

She slid off her couch, moving towards her kitchen to dump her now cold tea. She wouldn't think anymore of him tonight, and she'd work on keeping it that way for all the rest of her nights, if she could help it.

So much for not thinking about him.

She'd stepped into her closet with the intent to choose her attire for the next day, when she'd caught sight of it: the deep emerald green dress that she'd bought on one of their many expeditions to Saks Fifth Avenue. She'd seen him eyeing the dress with interest, even though he'd claimed he was only there because she'd dragged him. And she'd caught his pleased grin when they checked out their purchases. He loved her in green.

He was everywhere. She rolled her eyes, and pushed the dress to the back of her closet, her heart stuttering at her own action. She stepped out, her head filled with half-formed notions of giving everything that reminded her of him away, even as those very thoughts made her throat hurt and her eyes sting.

Minutes later, under the cocoon of her sheets, Donna felt the unease return. It still crept under her skin, forcing her to give in to it, and her mind returned to the short moment after their argument, when her gaze had caught his.

She tried to understand it: something had happened in that moment, and Donna now recognised what it was that she was feeling. Foreboding. A horrible sense of foreboding that her words had probably done more damage to their relationship than she'd intended.

She sat up.

Had they?

Admittedly, she had wanted to hurt him: to force him to take her working for Louis seriously. She had also been sure he'd wanted to lash back out at her after her words - but she hadn't given him the chance to, determined as she was to be the one with the last word in. But now, she realised that he had been silent. He hadn't called back to her or made any parting remark to her back. He'd been silent.

She had vaguely heard his new secretary - Glenda or Gretchen or whatever her name was - tell him that Jessica was looking for him. Afterwards, she hadn't seen him near her side of the firm; he'd obviously decided to keep his distance, she thought. Shortly after, she caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, heading for the elevators, his head bowed and his gait hurried. And she'd looked away when he stepped in, forcing her gaze back on her own work, unwilling to let him catch her looking. She hadn't seen him return - if he ever had - and by then, she'd been close to begging off for the day.

But now, as she contemplated the harshness of her own words in the light of their history together and their friendship, she felt the regret of it course through her. No, she was determined that she could never go back to work for him, but now she wondered if her words had inferred worse to him.

Her eyes stung again. She thought back to her own confused feelings moments ago - of wanting to rid herself of everything that represented him, and she knew she wouldn't be able to.

She was still angry with him - but, she loved him. And, he was still the best friend she'd ever had, and even with everything that had happened, she still wanted her friend back. She knew he loved her, even if she didn't know how, and she figured that was a solid enough base to work from, surely.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, she'd find a way to make it clear to him that she still hoped to be his friend. Tomorrow, she'd find the time - Louis, be damned - to get them back on track with their friendship.

"For starters", she murmured, pulling herself out of bed and making her way to the closet to pull the green dress back out; hanging it on the front of her closet, "This should help."

Author's Notes: Please let me know what you think. Reviewers can get a free boxing lesson from Harvey or a mudding session with Louis. ;)