Oh look. Me. Posting the chapter of a completely different fic. None of y'all saw that coming, did you? I was so completely overwhelmed by the response for we'll make it to the other side that I thought I would pull this out from hiding to, in order to motivate me to work on both. The love you all threw me was insane and I cannot wait to keep sharing these stories with you, even if I am a slow baby.

This is set in 2006 (please go easy on me with details from 15 years ago as I was old enough to remember and yet, young enough to forget) a convenient amount of months after 'the other time'.

Title: Charlie by Mallrat

I hope you love my baby! Once again, huge thank you to Zivitz who helped me labour this and the few people I handed it to in the early days to see if I was on the right track. The urge to run away with this and make it ridiculous is STRONG. But I want to keep it close to who these characters are and their story.

Harvey had fucked up.

She had been a challenge to him, the one woman on this planet who had said no to his advances but proceeded to flirt tirelessly. His fingers twitched for her, his mind constantly drawn in her direction as she typed at the small desk outside of his office or as she moved in and out of the space, organising his files, adding a Donna quip to his silent thoughts. She was there, adding vanilla to his coffee, getting him hooked and making him fall.

Maybe he had fallen for her.

It would explain the panic he felt after they had fallen into bed together, tacky from whipped cream and strawberries, the residue sticking to their bodies. He understood what she meant by not sleeping with people she worked with. It was awkward in the days and weeks that followed, but he wanted her there, needed her there. He couldn't have done anything without her. Had Harvey held a little foresight, he would have known to not cross that line. Although, he was sure that even if he did know what the future held, he still would have knocked on her door with a devilish grin and no intention to leave until well into the night. It was Donna holding the whipped cream, Donna who had almost anticipated his arrival and intentions as she smirked at him with come hither eyes before stepping back and welcoming him into her apartment.

He wished the whole thing was a blur, but Harvey could still feel the granules of whipped cream against his tongue as he moved across her body. He still couldn't quite look her in the eye without thinking about how she came undone in his arms and the sound of his name as a moan on her lips. It was months ago and the memory of her haunted him in the small interactions they shared, awkwardly trying to regain the balance in their lives.

She followed him to Pearson Hardman, despite her rule and the ways in which they broke it, simply because he asked. He didn't want to know what kind of lawyer he was going to be without Donna guiding him. The tension still felt palpable between them, like she could leave him at any second if he made the wrong move. So, Harvey resisted calling her when he wanted to, he stopped flirting, stopped looking at her for too long. He gave Donna her space, and in return she stayed at his desk.

He would watch her through the glass, her shoulders back, spine straight, wrist poised as her fingers flew across her keyboard or reached to answer the phone. Harvey Specter's office. She was a walking fantasy he thought he could simply shake off. And yet, it was better to have her there, right outside his door and torturing him in his mind then to have lost her altogether.

'Harvey?' Her voice was quiet as she knocked her knuckles against the glass wall of his office. His head jerked towards the sound, wondering when and how she had gotten up from her desk without his notice. He had been staring at her, like a moth drawn to the red flame of her hair for god knows how long, lost in his own trance. 'I need to go.' It wasn't until he forced himself to look at her, that Harvey saw the tremor on her lips and the shake in her hand, curled around the door, that seemed to travel down her legs.

'Is everything ok?' He thought for a second to be worried about them. She had caught him staring and had decided to call it quits. But this was more, this was personal and sudden. 'Are you okay?'

Donna gave him a sharp nod, tongue rolling over her bottom lip to steady it. 'Yeah, my mom called … Nicole …' her hand did a roundabout motion in the air, eyes partly rolling as she pushed herself away from the door jamb to stand straight. 'I have to go check on her.' It was nine-forty-five, the city dark outside his window and even though they were used to keeping late hours, Harvey felt like he should have sent her home by now.

'Do you want me to go with you?' Harvey knew very little about Nicole Paulsen, Donna tended to keep quiet about her family life, much like him. What he did know was simple: Nicole was 'much older' than Donna, their relationship was tense and distant, she made Donna nervous, she was currently expecting a child; the details of which Harvey knew nothing about other than Donna had seemed perturbed by the news, and recently their mother had co-signed a lease for Nicole to rent an apartment in New York City.

He could read it in her body language that she was anxious, the twitch of her fingers that stood out beyond a shake and the look in her eyes that shone with a hesitation that made Harvey nervous on her behalf.

She shook her head, 'It's just Nicole, it'll be nothing'. A forced smile spread itself across her cheeks, changing the tune as Harvey watched her conceal the cracks that had shown through her put together façade. Her smile didn't waver once it was in place, polite and controlled as she nodded in his direction before turning towards the door.

'You can call me, you know?' He asked, standing from his chair as if to reach out to her or follow her regardless of her denial upon his request. He really did want to help. It had been months since he had stepped inside of her home and things were still awkward but if she needed a friend, he could do that. He would to it, for her.

Donna's smile felt a little more real as her eyes flicked up to meet his with a grateful little nod. 'Goodnight, Harvey. Don't work too hard.'

[…]

Donna was six the first time she learned what an alcoholic was.

It had been late, well past her bedtime but she had filled her belly with water right before saying goodnight and it had woken her with a need to be let out. Her socked feet padded across the upper landing, inching towards the bathroom, hyper aware that she could be caught at any second. The landing was empty, the bathroom too as Donna alleviated her bladder before shuffling back out into the hall. She had only been gone a few minutes, not long enough for much to change. Yet, Josh was sitting at the top of the stairs when she precariously pushed the bathroom door open, little head flicking back and forth, making sure she wouldn't run into anyone who would be mad to see her out of bed.

'What are you doing up?' He asked, voice a soft whisper despite how much like a grown up he seemed. Her brother, Josh, had been sixteen then, almost a man; a giant to her young eyes.

Donna shrugged, 'I had to go pee'. Josh gave her a small smile and a nod, before he turned back to the stairwell, head tilted like he was straining his ears. 'What you doing?' She had asked, shuffling forward just as Josh's arm flung back to stop her, his other hand holding a finger over his lips. He tugged Donna into his lap, holding her there as the angry sounds of their parents' words drifted up to greet them. 'Nicky didn't come home.' She assumed, leaning out of Josh's hold to check the closed door of her sister's bedroom.

'Donna, shh.' He silenced her, tone grumpy as his hand squeezed her leg. 'I'm listening.'

She sat still, like a good little girl hanging on the instructions of her big brother as they eavesdropped on the fight below. She felt nervous, unsteady feeling tangling in her tummy as the voices escalated. She didn't want to listen, didn't want to know that at night her parents fought, and her brother listened.

Donna wanted to go back to bed, to slide under the covers and bury her face back into the pillow. She wanted to dream about ballerinas and unicorns, not the upset and anger in her parents' voices. Just as she tried to squirm out of his lap, Josh stood, holding Donna around her waist and carried her to bed. He tucked her in with the same comfort their father provided at her original bedtime. 'What's an alcoholic?' She asked, wide eyes watching Josh in the half dark as he made sure she was comfortable before he levelled a heavy sigh and laid down beside her.

She listened to him struggle, breath caught in his throat as he tried to find the words to explain it to her. 'An alcoholic is a person who likes to drink a lot. Like the drinks from Dad's cabinet.'

'But bad?'

Josh nodded, 'but too much'.

'More than Mommy?' He chuckled; their mother's nightly glass of chardonnay was nothing in comparison to what was currently taking hold of their house.

'Yeah, more than Mommy. And Nicky … she's only fifteen. You're not supposed to be an alcoholic when you're fifteen.' Quiet, Donna felt herself sink into her mattress. Nicky was always at a party with her friends where their parents would scowl and act worried. Nicky was quick to anger, irritable, not to be forced into anything. They gave the middle child a wide berth in the home across the weekend, Donna warned to tiptoe past her door.

'You need to go to sleep.' Josh tapped her nose, watching as a shadow moved across the room from her ajar door. They waited a moment, breath held in anticipation of their father catching them awake, until they heard the master bedroom door click shut.

Josh sat up, ready to slip back into his own room when Donna caught hold of his arm. 'Will Nicky get better?' He stopped, looked down at her young face and told a lie that Donna, even at six, knew not to trust.

'Of course she will.'

Josh never saw the worst of it. He joined the military when he turned eighteen and barely set foot inside their home long enough or frequently enough to notice how erratic Nicole had become.

The problem with Nicole and her addiction; she had to want to get better. She never did. Selfishly and stupidly, that was Nicky's way of life and no one had the power to stop her. The more they tried, the worse it got.

It had always surprised Donna that her sister stayed home, that their parents put up with it for so long. She lied, she yelled, she damaged personal and private property, she stole, she was arrested time and time again. Nothing changed, until a few months ago when Nicole left a message on Donna's machine.

They hadn't spoken, not properly, since Donna left for college. She cut Nicole off as best she could, stopped answering her calls, made herself unavailable and unattractive to her sister's requests and requirements. Nicole returned to being their parents' problem; once Donna had managed to cold turkey herself out of the guilt of abandoning her. She had spent so long being her sister's scape goat that Donna forgot how to put her own needs above Nicole's. It had to be a heavy break, complete loss of communication or she feared herself slipping right back into that toxic cavern of her sister's illness.

Although it had been eight years, Nicole never stopped calling. They were less frequent now, but there none the less. There were calls for money, for rides home in the middle of the night even though Donna was hours away. Sometimes there were follow up calls to the ones Donna never picked up, abuse yelled down the line that made her feel ten-years-old again. Nicole had called disorientated too many times to count, crying on the phone, helpless and lost to the point that Donna had grabbed her coat and headed to the door before she stopped herself. Nicole was thirty-four-years-old, she could fix this herself.

Josh had called her first, practically bursting at the seams with gossip when he asked if Nicole had called. That question usually came with weight and where this time still felt heavy, something was different.

'Hey bubs, I know things haven't been great between us over the last few years. I just wanted to let you know that I've been cleaning up my act.' There had been a long pause, a heavy sigh. 'I––ah, I'm pregnant and I really want you to be part of her life.'

Her stomach dropped, bile rising up her throat as worry took over.

'Maybe she is better this time. Stranger things have happened.' Josh didn't sound convinced, but he was hopeful. 'Mom said she checked herself into a program.' Which wasn't the first time Nicole felt obligated to act like she was getting help.

Donna stayed out of it. The message was left five months ago, Nicole had called a few times since then, small updates, additional requests to see her sister. There was a text message sitting on Donna's phone, read and acknowledged, but not replied to from two weeks ago.

Her niece had been born.

It was the baby Donna thought about as she hurried out of the office on her mother's request to check in. If it had just been Nicole, Donna would have steeled herself, taken a breath and told her mom if there were still concerns in the morning she would stop by. It felt cold, heartless, but Clara and Nicole had a way of roping Donna in on the drama she didn't want to partake in. It was the baby Donna was worried about. A baby who had only just been born and was dependant entirely on Nicole and her unreliable behaviour. It was the baby that sent Donna out there in the middle of the night, heart thudding in her chest.

Nicole's landlord buzzed Donna into the building. He was a short, stocky man waiting in the small foyer with his arms crossed over his chest. He had called their mother who then called Donna because Nicole wasn't answering her door. Loud music had been playing for hours and the other tenants were starting to complain. The volume and the length of time had hit an unreasonable level and now that many in the building were trying to settle into bed, something had to be done. Doug, as he introduced himself with a sweaty handshake, was not stepping one foot inside Nicole's apartment without her permission. He figured a relative could do it for him.

'How long did you say the music has been playing for?' Donna asked, following Doug up a narrow flight of stairs.

'Her direct neighbour said its been goin' since ten this mornin'.' Almost twelve hours. Donna's stomach churned, anxious energy forming a rock in her gut.

Doug's concern was with turning the music off so the rest of his tenants could sleep, he didn't care if Nicole was in the apartment or not. A worry Donna was currently experiencing. Nicole had a habit, in her teen years, of leaving her stereo blasting before she snuck out the window for the night. There was nothing here to sneak away from, no parents in the living room or tiding up for dinner. There was no one to avoid. Just Nicole and her baby.

The music was loud, obscenely so once they reached the third floor and headed down the hall towards Nicole's door.

'She has a baby.' Donna whispered; fear caught in her throat at how irresponsible this was. The music was loud outside the door, it had to be deafening inside.

She tried to brace herself, straightening her shoulders as she inhaled, ready for the atrocities that lived high on the Nicole Paulsen scale. 'I ain't heard nothin' about a baby.' Donna's stomach sank a little deeper, her controlled resolve faltering as Doug knocked loudly against the wood of Nicole's door. 315. The brass numbers sat tarnished on the door as Donna's hands shook, tremors rushing up and down her spine as nausea bit at the back of her throat.

This wasn't going to be good. She could feel it.

A childhood of Nicole tinged catastrophes reached for her, no Josh there to shield Donna's eyes as their sister lay choking on her tongue in a puddle of her own vomit, dead centre on the rug in her bedroom where her parents, and baby sister could just walk by and spot her. It was always Donna, at various ages, holding Nicole's hair back as she dry heaved in the garden, the side of the road, the bathroom of their considerably small apartment. It was Donna who picked Nicole up, her sister half comatose as she vomited across the backseat of the car Donna saved so hard to get. She could still smell it, the old upholstery, the freedom that came with her first adult purchase, and the rank stink of bile that never seemed to come out.

'Nicky!' Donna felt need shout from her throat, wobbling as it made its way out, her fist knocking forcefully against the door.

She was working herself up, panic rising in her system as a small voice reminded her of all the times she had panicked only to find Nicole wasted and unphased. They would push their way into that apartment, turn off the music and Nicole would be there, sleeping off a hangover and completely fine. She would grumble at them, call Donna a drama queen, a bitch, a fucking slut with a scowl and it all would have been for nothing. But she had the picture of her niece on her phone, grainy but there alongside Clara's message. She existed, she was real, and she had to be somewhere inside all of that noise.

'We've given her plenty of warnin'.' Doug stood back, he had knocked and hollered, warned if she didn't answer they would let themselves in. Donna wasn't sure how long they had ben standing there but her head had begun to ache from the thud of the music and her induced anxiety had made her fingers go numb.

The spare key clicked into the lock with ease and turned at the twist of Doug's wrist. The door swung open as if pushed by a gentle breeze, Donna's fingers barely touching the wood as the volume of the music in the hall got louder without the door blocking it.

Donna stepped inside Nicole's apartment without a noise, it was impossible to hear over the music regardless as she walked with her ears covered hoping to find the stereo that was the cause of the problem.

Clara and Jim had boasted recovery for Nicole since finding out she was pregnant. The news had seemingly turned her life around, according to their parents. This was the same old scene Donna had witnessed since her youth. The apartment looked like a party ravaged house, empty bottles scattered tabletops and bench space, a collection lay still on the floor, some with their labels picked off. It wreaked of vodka and vomit; the air dingy as Donna tried to collect her bearings. Her eyes scanned the mess, rubbish from take out vendors and grocery shopping lay mixed with the remnants of a bender and there, on the couch, slumped the body of her sister.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. It was all supposed to be different for her new little niece.

'Shit, fuck, shit, Nicole.' Donna cursed, the sight a familiar one but startling, nonetheless.

The stereo, set up on the TV unit, was switched off promptly as Donna tried to catch her breath, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn't breathe, lungs trying to fill themselves on a stutter as her ears rang and her mind convinced her to turn around. This wasn't the first time for either of them, but it had been so long Donna forgot how frightening it was to find the body of your sister unconscious, foaming at the mouth and covered in her own vomit.

'Nic … Nicky … Nicole …' Donna dropped to her knees, careful of what she was kneeling in as her hands tapped at her sister's cooling cheeks. 'Nicky.' She smacked her, touch gentle and urgent as fear climbed up her spine, one vertebra at a time, ready to take helm of her rational thoughts. Donna used to cry, little voice wailing as Josh or their dad came running. She had learned to swallow it down, time and time again but the practice was gone and the urgency to wake her sister was spurred on for a life outside of Nicole's. 'Where's the baby?' This was every share house, abandoned space and out of control party Donna had ever walked through culminated into one.

This wasn't the place for a two-week-old infant.

Nicole's cheek wobbled under Donna's touch, one hand under her chin as the other tapped at the soft tissue of her face, desperate to bring her back to consciousness. There were scratches on her knuckles from the force in which Donna had knocked on the door, begging and pleading for Nicole to let them in. Her ears were still ringing even though the music had stopped, a high-pitched shriek rattling around in her head, making her deaf to the world.

Nicole's head rolled, moving from one shoulder to the next as her lungs coughed and her arms twitched. That was all Donna could get from her, mouth open, low noise falling from it. 'Doug!' She felt the sounds of a grunt come from the front door. 'Call nine-one-one!' Her hands were shaking, heart practically stopping for whole seconds at a time as Donna pushed herself up onto her feet. She was torn between wanting her niece to be there and not. She needed to see her, to know with her own eyes that the baby was okay but if she wasn't there, she was potentially someplace better. Or worse, her thoughts continued for her, like a garbage bag on the street waiting to be collected. Her stomach flipped, bile rising up her throat as Donna stopped, hand propped against the wall as she dry heaved for a second before recollecting her strength.

Be okay, be okay, be okay, be okay. Please.

Upright with her armour on and nausea at bay, Donna shook herself of the possibilities in her head that felt so debilitatingly real. The ringing in her ears settled only to be replaced with the newborn cry of a small creature. Hope jumped up and into her throat as Donna pushed the bedroom door open and stumbled in.

The bed was messy, unmade, sheets rumbled and curled this way and that. In the centre, almost buried under the mess of blankets––to the point Donna almost missed her––lay her niece.

Donna rushed forward, unbothered by what she could potentially touch or step in as relief flooded her chest at the sight and sound of the baby. She scooped her up without second thought, infant all bone, skinny and small, her face red and her clothes soiled. The smell of her over ripe diaper rose up to reach Donna's nose, making her recoil. An instinct to hold her away from her body washed over Donna but she couldn't do it, not with a thankfulness tugging through her arms, wanting desperately to clutch her close.

'Oh, sweet girl.' She saw this coming a mile off. The instant Josh called, and the message had been heard, Donna knew to expect the worst. They were all hopeful, and she genuinely hoped this would be different for Nicole. It wasn't and it sickened Donna to be right about it.

Things had turned quickly, only a week ago had Clara called to gush and fawn over how well Nicole was doing, how much of an angel the baby was, and how Donna should give her a chance and pay them a visit.

She felt bile rise up her throat for the third time since walking into that building and swallowed it down. How could they––her parents––think that things were fine? How could they trust Nicole so quickly after her track record that proved she needed help and supervision?

'It's okay.' Donna soothed, half to herself rather than the baby. The attempt on the young one was futile as her small lungs continued to wail out a broken bleat of a cry, her fingers rolled into fists as her body shook with the effort. She was damp in Donna's arms, making her aunt's heart ache. 'Hey, hey.' Donna kept making noise, cooing, hoping it would distract the baby as she took small, cautious steps around the bedroom. 'You're okay.' She whispered to the body of her niece, trying to rock her as she did so. 'It's okay, hey.'

With the baby tucked up in her arms, light as a feather and surprisingly small, Donna found a small stack of diapers and a bag to shove them in. She was cautious of rifling through her sisters' things, having been scorned in the past by things she didn't want to find and the wrath of Nicole finding her mess out of place. But the baby needed supplies, diapers, clothes, formula. Once the EMT's got there Nicole would be taken to Emergency, their parents would be called, her stomach would be pumped, and the baby would need somewhere to stay, preferably for a little while. Donna was hesitant to see a day in the near future where they all left an infant in Nicole's care.

There wasn't much Donna wanted from Nicole's apartment regardless of the fact that she would need it. Considering the state of her home, Donna thought it better to run the risk without than with soiled, questionable items.

'Hey,' Doug's heavy gait thudded across the floor as he came looking for her. 'You found the baby.' He looked as relieved as Donna felt to find the little girl still breathing. 'Paramedics are on their way.'

She stayed, swaying in a space that felt cleaner than everything else, trying to soothe the baby who wouldn't settle. Donna couldn't breathe, the walls of the apartment stuffy around the sight of her sister, half comatose, her baby abandoned in the other room. She wanted to call their parents, to yell down the phone until she was black and blue. She wanted to call Josh and cry. She wanted to go home, to get away from the smell and the mess, where her apartment was clean and everything was just so.

'These things happen.' The paramedic gave her a sympathetic smile after Nicole had been pulled onto a gurney. 'They're good for a little bit, pick up their lives and then sooner or later, something happens, and they relapse.'

There was nothing Donna could do but watch them carry Nicole out of the apartment, her arms clutching tightly to the little life she felt she barely saved, a small bag of salvageable supplies at her feet.

[…]

When Donna called him close to midnight Harvey had no hesitation in picking up her call. He was nervous, concerned about Nicole and Donna's wellbeing after seeing her. Something was wrong if she was calling him this late. 'Is everything okay?' He had just gotten home, his tie and jacket still on, shoulders tense. Harvey tried to conceal the concern; he didn't make a habit of showing his feelings, but he heard the worried wobble in his voice before he had time to stop it.

'I––ah, I need your help.'

He had Ray get him to her apartment in half the time it usually took, road rules be damned as Harvey's heart pounded in his chest. If Donna needed him, he would be there promptly and ready for battle.

He didn't expect what he saw when she quietly welcomed him inside, drained beyond the usually peppy Donna he knew.

'You just took her?' He asked, standing in the doorway of her bedroom, trying not to focus on the last time they––he––was there.

Beside him, her arms crossed over her chest, damp hair sitting on her shoulders and helpless look twisted across her face, Donna nodded. 'I just took her.' It wasn't like it was kidnap, her parents still lived in Hartford and she couldn't exactly just leave her in the apartment. He could hear that she was gnawing on the inside of her cheek, trying to hold back the wobble in her voice as they both stared at the fuzzy cream towel on her bed wrapped, in pools, around the body of an infant. 'I don't know what to do.' Her voice broke there, giving into the sound and the emotion as her shoulders curled closer to her chest and her body turned into his.

It felt instinctual, the way he opened up to her, arms instantly wrapping her in a hug the second Donna turned her body towards his and buried her face against his chest. She sobbed, his hands still on her back for a moment before he started to stroke her spine. This was close, too close to what they had been avoiding but he was powerless to her tears.

Donna didn't cry––had never cried––in front of him and now the tears were flowing in rivers down her cheeks. Her hands at his waist curled tight into the fabric of his jacket, pulling the fabric taunt as he removed a hand from her back to squeeze at her forearm. 'Hey, it's okay.' Harvey offered, finding his voice after a few wordless moments, filled with nothing but Donna's upset and the cries of a newborn. He pulled back, hoping she would do the same as he watched her cling to him for dear life. 'You did the right thing, okay? You're family.' It was better than the idea of a short stay. He didn't know what experience Donna had with infants as small as this, his eyes glancing over at the tiny baby on her bed, arms skinnier than he could believe. She was family, though, it had to count for something and at this hour it was better to leave the drastic decisions for when the sun had risen.

'I don't have anything for her. There were a few diapers at the apartment, but I panicked, I had to get out. I didn't take much––I should have––but I couldn't think. The apartment was in disarray and I thought anything I took was likely ruined anyway. She hasn't been fed––for I don't know how long––she hadn't been changed; her clothes were soaked. I just took her out and didn't think and now I have nothing. I don't know what to do.' She stepped back, visibly trying to control herself with a hand pressed to her mouth. 'I don't know what to do.' Donna lost for action stumped him. This wasn't the woman he knew, the redhead with all the answers, even to the questions he hadn't thought to ask. She was prepared, always a step ahead and yet this version of her was scattered, lost, losing control.

Harvey stared at her, eyes drifting between Donna and the baby as his heart clenched with every cry. She wasn't honestly hoping he had answers, was she? He watched her pace in a small circle, jittery and anxious. It was nearing twelve, the night getting late and although they had worked later than this on a few too many occasions, he knew she had to be getting tired.

'I should have called CPS.' Her voice cracked for a third time, fresh tears brimming in her eyes just before Donna brushed them away. He watched her step towards her bed, arms carefully sliding around the towel that held her niece before she scooped her up.

How could a baby appear smaller in the arms of a grown adult? He knew babies were small, tiny even, but Harvey found himself shocked at the sight of her, his stomach doing a flip as he watched Donna rock the baby. The way she was looking at her pulled a string in his chest, there was nothing there that would or could matter more to Donna than her niece.

Harvey shook his head, 'she's better here with you and it's only temporary'. Her sister was under medical duress and was not in the right frame of mind to make decisions about her daughter's care. Donna was family, no one would argue with that and if Nicole didn't agree by the time she came to, other arrangements could be made.

Donna lifted her gaze, eyes wide and nervous. 'No. I can't let her go back to Nic when she's ready. She's an addict, Harvey. It'll happen again, it's been happening my whole life. What if I can't get there next time?' He watched her bottom lip wobble, emotion threatening to overthrow her once again. 'She used to hit me … just out of the blue. She had these moods. The baby … she's a baby.' She sat, body dropping to the edge of her bed as her hand slipped free from underneath her niece to stroke her small cheek.

'Did you take pictures?' Of all the things running through his head, he needed to know this. 'Of the apartment, the state it was in? The condition of the baby?' Donna stopped, hesitated before giving him a remorseful shake of her head. 'Okay.' He nodded, caught in his own thoughts. 'She's clearly hungry. So, we're going to get you the things you need.' Bottles, diapers, clothing and blankets. Everything from here to the sun that would help her keep that baby comfortable and content. 'When she's settled, you're going to get some sleep and I'm going to come up with a plan.'

'We can't take her out like this.' How easily it became a collective; we, the two of them so quickly defined as an undeniable team.

Harvey grinned, smirk pulling at his lips that only made her return one in kind. 'That's what my new driver is for.' Ray had kids, or so Harvey was sure he had mentioned. It was a better bet than one, or both of them, stumbling around a twenty-four-hour trade store blindly trying to guess at what they needed. 'I'll call him.'

[…]

Donna couldn't explain why she called Harvey. In the chaos of her mind, he was the closest thing to sanity, the only one she felt who could help her.

He knew nothing about babies, no experience whatsoever. He wasn't exactly the warmest person she knew––to strangers outside their fold––and where she had friends who would have rushed to her side Harvey was one of a very few who knew about Nicole. He was also one of very few who would still be up that late on a Wednesday night, almost predictably so.

He was there in a heartbeat, no questions asked as he stepped into her apartment with an air of concern and mixed relief. Within an hour, Harvey had procured––through his driver, Ray––a collection of baby bottles boiling on the stove, formula, a box full of newborn diapers, wipes, cream and powder, as well as two blankets and a small collection of onesies to tide them over. She felt overwhelmed holding her niece in just a towel from her bathroom as she watched Harvey throw everything into the washing machine, telling her something about packing chemicals and advice from Ray.

She let him take control like she had never let someone do before, stepping back as Harvey stepped in. 'Look at that sweetheart, we're going to have you in warm clothes in a flash.' She cooed, rocking the baby in the doorway, towel wrapped around her little body as tight as Donna could get the mass of fabric. Harvey grinned, pushing away from the machine as he watched her, the domesticity thick in her throat.

'She doing okay?' Harvey asked, approaching slowly. It touched her how easily concern came to him, an expression that was so unlike Harvey Specter, the prosecutor turned corporate law associate. His steps were steady, walking across the floors of her apartment like he lived there, like he had been there more than twice. His comfort startled her, threw Donna's concentration off kilter as she readjusted the baby in her arms before offering some reassurance.

Her niece had kept up a fairly consistent grizzle. With a shower and a fresh diaper, she had settled considerably from the state Donna found her in. It was a start in quelling the needs that surged inside the small body of the infant in her care.

'I think she'll be better after a bottle.' Harvey had stopped in front of her, no more than a foot away, his hand reaching towards the baby, his knuckle stroking down her cheek. He nodded; small fond smile pressed into his cheeks.

Neither of them knew what to do with the tin of formula, Harvey's hands twisting the metal in his hands while Donna stood, bouncing the baby and waiting for his verdict. It was easier that way, to hold her niece, her pleas quiet wrapped up in Donna's arms while Harvey took to making a bottle.

'Here we go?' Harvey turned from the stove, shaking the bottle of formula in his hand against his wrist. Donna wasn't confident that she could name an occasion where Harvey had looked completely unsure of himself. She definitely couldn't name a time where if he did, she hadn't been able to back him up. They were both out of their depths, their mid-to-late-twenties hanging over their heads, glaringly obvious that this had not been their intended paths. Babies seemed a mile away, a future so far and distant neither of them had so much as prepared for it. On her own, Donna had figured out how to change and secure a diaper, a chore she was sure Harvey would baulk at had he been there to help. The situation at hand was nerve-wracking, but she had parts of it under control in a way that left Donna with the slight tingle of empowerment.

Harvey followed her when she turned, walking out of the kitchen to sink into the cushions of her living room sofa. He extended his arm, bottle in hand, towards Donna who took it with a thankful smile. With a deep breath, she looked down at the squirming baby, small cheeks red with frustration, mouth open and wailing. Donna hesitated, overthinking the position of her arms and if there was a trick to offering the bottle. Realising there was no use in worrying about the particulars, Donna tucked the baby closer to her chest, elbow tiled slightly to elevate her head before she offered the bottle, resting the plastic nipple against her niece's lips.

With a snort, the girl moved her head and latched onto the bottle, suckling desperately as small noises escaped her puppy-like and greedy. Donna watched her, peace finally sliding across her small face, a natural colour returning to her cheeks as her body relaxed in her aunts' arms. She chuckled, perplexed by the girl in her arms and she shook her head.

'I don't even know her name.' Donna admitted, voice a bare whisper as she watched her niece's eyes roll back, lids fluttering, expression peaceful. Harvey was watching her with a quirked brow, held up with confusion, as he sat perched on the edge of the couch. Donna laughed again, the sound of it hollow and held back. Her mother had called almost minutes after Nicole had given birth, where the baby was still a stark reality that had yet to be named and in the days after, Clara had been silent. 'I'm so sorry, sweetheart.' Donna was her aunt, the least she could have learned was the name of her newborn niece. 'I'm sorry this is happening to you.' She watched those little eyelids flutter before they settled on closed, the baby's erratic suckles slowed as sleep started to wash over her, all needs met.

'Can you get my phone?' Donna asked, lifting her eyes toward Harvey who had been sat there so quietly, watching her with an intense gaze. 'Mom said she would call.' He pushed up from the couch, shoes kicked off as he padded around her apartment in socks until he managed to spot her phone on the duvet of her queen-sized bed.

'No calls from your mom, there's a missed one from Josh from a few minutes ago.' Donna's posture straightened as if her body could lunge towards his if the baby had not been in her lap. 'Do you want me to call him back?' She gave him a nod, her hands otherwise occupied.

Harvey pressed the buttons he needed to, Donna watching him. He looked frazzled but relaxed, shoes gone, tie and jacket discarded on the back of a dining room chair, the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone and the fabric now slightly crumpled. She was glad he was there, giving him a small smile, unsure of how it could have gone but Harvey had been nothing but helpful to her on a late night where he probably wanted to go home.

'You can go if you like,' she suggested, as he put the phone on speaker and rested it on a pillow beside her. The phone rang, filling the air around them as Harvey gave her a shrug.

'I will when you're settled.'

'Donna?' Josh's voice sounded through the speaker, picking up with concern as she felt tears sting her eyes in response. 'Hey, I got a weird call from Mom, what's going on? Are you okay? I can't leave right now, but I can probably get there in a few days.'

It was nothing, just simple reassurance wrapped in comfort as everything from that evening pressed back down on Donna's shoulders, a talon pushing into the skin of old wounds. Donna was feeling triggered, from walking in on Nicole as wasted and far gone as she was, to being left to fix her sisters problems, to Josh, in the way he always was in those moments, a soft voice on the other end of the phone.

Donna broke down, a sob pushing its way out of her throat as the tears rushed down her cheeks. 'Donna, hey, it's okay. Breathe. Are you alone? Is someone with you? Where are you?' The worry in Josh's voice rose, panic reaching through the speaker to rattle around the room.

She didn't see Harvey move, barely felt the couch dip beside her or the lift in her arms as he tried to pry the baby from her lap. On reflex, Donna tightened her grip for a second, her bearings lost and confused in the flurry of tears that had overcome her.

'Donna? Talk to me, please.'

She hiccoughed, mouth open, words failing to actualise themselves. 'She's ok.' Harvey found himself speaking, one hand on the baby, the other providing a comforting squeeze to Donna's shoulder. 'Just give her a second to catch her breath.' He turned his head towards the phone, as if he could see Josh Paulsen sitting right there on the other side of the couch.

She watched him, tear-filled eyes trying to centre herself in his concerned gaze as her fingers finally loosened their grip on the baby. 'Talk to your brother.' Harvey insisted, hand moving from her shoulder to cup the side of her neck, fingers warm and present as she closed her eyes and took a breath in. She gave Harvey a firm nod before she opened her eyes at the absence of his touch to watch him lift her sleeping niece out of her arms. 'I'll just be in the other room.' He whispered, seemingly rocking the baby with a practiced ease as he stepped away from her and nodded towards the phone.

'Josh?' Donna reached for the device, hands fumbling as she tried to pull it towards her ear.

'There you are––was that … Harvey?'

[…]

Donna's upset had rattled him, leaving Harvey standing in her hall at a loss for what else to do. Nervous, he had taken her niece from her arms in an attempt to give her a minute to the emotional breakdown she needed to get off her chest.

It wasn't until he heard her voice shift from upset to a normal tone that he realised he was standing there in the half dark rocking the baby, feather light in his arms. She was still asleep, blonde lashes kissing her small cheeks, skin still slightly pink from her upset. He found himself captivated in light features that, even in their small size, felt reminiscent to the sweet ease of Donna's face. Her hair, in the light of the living room, had been giving off a ginger hue that Harvey couldn't help but feel his heart flutter in response.

What was it about Donna holding a little ginger baby that had captivated him wholly? He shouldn't be thinking those thoughts, shouldn't feel his heart tug with an ache that physically hurt. Harvey tried to deny that there was a coincidence between the weird twist in his gut towards the baby and Donna, and the significance of her arrival in the world.

She could have been theirs.

He could have been sitting there right now, helping Donna welcome home their daughter, nine months after they had quit their jobs at the DA's office. They had been safe, no doubt, and yet the thought kept trickling back into his mind. It could have happened, easily. Would they have continued as they had? Cautious around each other, elephant in the room, hovering around the subject and her growing bump as they agreed to do it as friends. He would have stuck around, Harvey knew that, there was no leaving Donna, he needed her by his side always and he would have done anything to keep her there.

If their baby looked anything like her niece, Harvey never would have been able to walk away. Despite the blowout that tore his family apart, Harvey considered himself a loyal man, who one day––when he had his fill of beautiful women––would like to have kids of his own. Only if it meant there was a family there for those kids, a solid and stable home with parents who loved each other, who didn't cheat or lie or ask their kids to hold their secrets.

He would have wanted to try with her. If this had happened, unplanned after that night, he would have tried.

The dryer beeped in the small laundry only a few feet from where he stood. 'Oh, look at that,' he whispered, head bowed down towards the sleeping baby. 'Sounds like your clothes are ready.'

It sounded like the girl snorted, Harvey's words registering in her young thoughts as she shifted her head towards his chest and fell silent again. Harvey turned his ear towards the living room, listening for Donna's calmed voice talking to her brother comfortably before he stepped inside the laundry.

In the cream towel, Harvey gently laid the baby against the laundry counter. His arms mourned the absence of her sleepy warm weight, but he couldn't trust himself to hold her and empty the contents of the dryer simultaneously. She snorted again, making a mewling sort of sound as her little body, unconfined, moved beneath the soft fabric of the towel causing her make-shift blanket to slip a little. Harvey put a hand on her small tummy, anchoring her as the other pulled the dryer door open.

'What have we got for you, hey?' He was well aware that the baby was asleep and if she hadn't been, she wouldn't be able to comprehend him anyway. The chatter comforted him, reminded Harvey that she was there, real and breathing, waiting for him to find her something warm and comfortable. One by one Harvey pulled out each tiny coverall, gave it a swift shake to loosen out creases and then laid it flat beside the baby on the counter. A blanket came out of the machine as well, fluffy and buttery soft in Harvey's hands, his instincts fighting with him to wrap it around the baby immediately.

He picked a soft blue coverall, the fabric waffled and smooth in his hands, the blue was subtle, and the little clusters of flowers scattered across the garment made his heart clench. It felt delicate and feminine, loved in its simple beauty; perfect for this tiny creature who was only just starting to bloom in this world.

Harvey found his hands shaking as he gently pulled the towel away from the baby's sleeping body, careful not to wake her. He didn't know what he was doing trying to dress a baby, though that the least he could do for Donna was show he was competent enough to give her small breaks without having to wait for her help.

He popped the buttons on the coverall, undoing them all until it looked like a shell lying beside the baby. With shaking hands and gentle fingers, he lifted her tiny legs, one at a time, into tunnel of the leg hole. Uncovered by the towel, Harvey could see the protrusion of her ribs through her skin, the sight still bothered him, as it did a few hours ago when he had Donna strip the baby down so they could take photos of the physical signs of neglect Nicole had let grow on her daughters tiny body. He lifted her, slow and gentle until her small chest was against his shoulder so he could pull the rest of the coverall up her small torso before carefully bending her arms into the sleeves.

Holding her in the crook of his arm, Harvey used his free hand to push the towel aside so he could lay the blanket against the counter. He put the baby down against the buttery fabric, careful of her fragile neck and tiny head as she snorted in her sleep once again and wiggled, just a smidge, in his arms. Harvey wrapped her in the blanket to the best of his ability, taking care to tuck it around her small body before he scooped her back up into his protective hold.

His heart bloomed, expanding in his chest at the sight of her finally dressed and wrapped in love. She looked like a normal baby, one who belonged there, in that apartment with Harvey and Donna, the two of them fighting over her fondly.

'You dressed her.' Donna's voice made him startle, he hadn't heard her approach or set herself up against the door jamb. It had just been Harvey and the baby in a little bubble, completely forgetting their place. Donna was giving him a quiet smile, warm and affectionate as she watched him, cheeks still red from her tears, skin dry from the rivers they had formed.

'How was Josh?'

'Mad.' She grimaced, pushing away from the door and stepping further into her little laundry. 'Not with me, just the whole––' Donna twirled her wrist in the air, '––situation. Mom, Nicky, Dad. He doesn't think I should have been thrown into the middle of this, yet again. But, it's okay, you know?' She stepped closer, hand raising to fiddle with the small sleeve around her niece's wrist. 'Because it's her.'

Even though Harvey was unfamiliar with the notion, he could see the love shimmering in Donna's eyes. She would do anything for that little girl despite only knowing her for a few short hours. Harvey could relate, unnamed and vulnerable, Donna's niece had taken hold of him.

'She doesn't have a name.' Donna whispered, back of her knuckle stroking across her niece's cheek, woefully. 'Can you believe that, it's been two weeks and Nicole couldn't even be bothered to find a name for her.'

Harvey smiled, watching them with an awe he had never felt before. 'Well, we'll give her one then.'

'I can't just name my sister's kid.'

'She needs something temporarily or what, are you just going to call her 'my sister's kid'?' She deserved a name for that sweet sleeping face, something that captured the love people felt for her, would feel for her one day. 'Or a pet name.' Something that would show the affection Donna so clearly felt towards her, something that could be a placeholder until they knew what Nicole wanted for her daughter. 'Bunny?'

Donna raised a brow, smirk pulling at her lips. 'I'm not calling her bunny.'

'Good, because I think 'princess' suits her much better.'

'I can't just call her princess, either.' Donna huffed, turning away from him as she left the laundry and wandered down the hall, Harvey on her heels, the baby asleep in his arms. He was watching her small face more than he was looking where he was going, trying to think of something, anything, that would suit the delight he felt when looking at her.

Regardless of what Donna said, he could see himself calling her princess. Donna, however, was right, they couldn't just walk around calling her that. The baby needed a name, one that wasn't too big it would overshadow whatever her mother decided when she was ready. 'What about Ella?' The name was out of his mouth before his mind had latched onto the idea, his eyes on the slope of her small cheeks, curving down into a thin little neck that almost lolled over his arm.

Ella was not unfamiliar to Harvey, although it was a detail Donna was unlikely to know about. He had considered himself, once, in high school, to be a boy who would one day have a family. Ella had been a name that sat on his mental list for if ever he found himself with a need to use it. Now felt fitting.

'Ella?' Donna breathed, pausing in the hall, her back to him.

'Yeah,' Harvey nodded. 'Ella.' The lights weren't on in the hall, instead the source was coming from the living room, leaving them in a faint glow that overshadowed too many features. Donna turned, facing him as her hands found his forearms. 'It's short, not overly complicated, can be replaced by whatever Nicole wants, but it's a name. It's something for you to call her.'

'Ella.' Donna repeated it, trying the sounds out on her tongue. The name had never sounded so good coming from her lips. Harvey had to suppress the chill that tried to wash over him, her touch, her smile, the way she said that name he had been dreaming about forever and the easy weight of the baby in his arms. The boundaries between reality and fantasy started to blur and Harvey was getting swept away in it. Donna's hands moved from his forearms to slide into the grasp he had on the baby. Harvey let Donna have her, bending slightly to help transition the infant from his arms to hers. 'Ella.' She rolled it again, bouncing her niece softly 'I like that.' Donna hummed, bouncing her niece softly.

Harvey's grin displayed a happy man, quietly humoured in Donna's little trial of the name he supplied. Inside, his heart was hammering a mix of pride and something else, lighter, more relieved that he couldn't quite put his finger on. She liked the name. She liked the name he suggested for her nameless niece. The two of them, collaborators, as always.

'You okay?' Harvey asked, the question pressing at the back of his head, begging to be asked. The emotion that followed Josh's call was unfamiliar to him. He knew Donna to be a solid rock, in control of every moment and to see her bubble over like that within a second had scared him.

Donna gave him a short nod. 'It's just, this has to be a lot and I'm here, okay? If you want to talk about it. Anything. You know I'll listen.' Harvey felt himself pleading with her. He needed her to know that she could rely on him like he relied on her. He was here and he was willing.

'Are you okay?' Donna raised a brow, staring at the man in front of her who never seemed to care so much for the emotions of others. Harvey smiled, soft and slow, the muscles of his face relaxing as his lips pulled up in a comforting grin. She released a heavy breath, shoulders dropping with the exhale. 'I just got overwhelmed. It's fine.' Her smile was warm, reassuring with a curve of comfort nestled against her cheek. Donna only had eyes for the baby––Ella––tucked in her arms and sleeping soundly, thankfully.

'You should get some rest while she's sleeping.' It was nearing three am and even Harvey felt his eyes drooping, ready to drop his head against a pillow and drift off into nothingness. They were used to late nights, but this was out of the ordinary.

Donna hummed, rocking her niece with each wide step, swaying her hips as she moved, keeping up a calm and soothing rhythm. He watched her, transfixed in the movement as Donna moved from the hall to the living room, her steps and sway almost stopping.

'Where is she going to sleep?' There was no bassinet, no crib, nowhere suitable for the baby to be nestled for the night. She was small, Harvey figured, they could put her anywhere and where most babies had a roll risk, he was sure Ella, for a night, would be comfortable on the couch. Donna didn't look as convinced and he could see in her eyes that she was going to get no sleep if Ella wasn't laid to rest somewhere safe.

'I'll watch her.' Harvey announced, mind too wired to let him sleep anyway. He was tired, but there was a list of to-dos' running through his head that were not going to let him get much shut eye. It was more important to him that Donna got rest. She was the one who had to keep herself functioning for the baby, who needed her wits and wiles about her.

He watched her chew on the inside of her cheek, contemplating his proposal. They both knew it was late, way too late to send him home and Harvey knew there was a part of her that wanted him to stay, that was hesitant for the moment he would leave her alone with her niece.

'I've got some work to do,' which wasn't entirely a lie. 'We can set her up on the couch just here.' A throw blanket was pulled off the arm of said couch, still neatly folded as Harvey laid it out, presenting it as a makeshift bed. 'See?' Something close to pride bubbled in his chest. He could provide some form of genuine assistance in watching the baby sleep.

'Harvey,' she sighed, the exhaustion finally pulling down on her shoulders as she stood there, fingers fidgeting, finally empty handed.

He wanted to nudge her towards her room with the insistence that it was time to let the day go, he could keep guard for the rest of the night. 'It's 2am.'

'But what if she––'

'––I'll be sitting right here'.

'And when she––'

'––I'll wake you. I promise, if she so much as sneezes, you'll know about it.'

'Are you sure about this, Harvey?' Donna hesitated; foot turned towards her bedroom.

There wasn't anything else he could do but nod. Donna would have been there, if it was him. She would have walked through the door and taken command. It was there, watching her stand tired and at a loss in front of him that Harvey realised he was ready to do anything for her. Watching her niece was just the beginning.

'Of course, I am.'

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