Well it's been ages since I've posted anything so I'm probably very rusty. Suits has made it very difficult to find inspiration to write for these two. Takes place almost immediately after the finale.

To Rebuild A Home

It was hard enough seeing it for herself, but when Harvey walks into his home, their home, the pure anguish on his face is enough to break her heart for the second time in one day.

Louis has been roaming the halls aimlessly for the past hour, whether it's searching for signs of life or merely to keep busy, she isn't sure. Jessica has taken to her office, no doubt with a drink in her hand, quietly contemplating her next move.

And Donna, well, she's at a loss, really.

"They're all gone," she says unnecessarily, her voice almost breaking.

Harvey shakes his head, looking utterly defeated. Donna smooths down the lines of her dress, doing anything to keep her hands occupied and her mind off the fact that all she wants to do is wrap her arms around Harvey.

He glances around, surveying the damage. Donna watches as he casts his eyes across the bullpen, observing dozens of abandoned desks. It wasn't so long ago that Harvey was here, without an office, without his name on any kind of door. And she was by his side of course, without any official desk of her own. They were both so young and tethered together in such a way that makes her heart ache when she thinks about it now.

"What do we do now?" Donna asks quietly.

Harvey doesn't say anything for a long time, lost in his own thoughts. He finally looks at her.

"I don't even know what to begin, Donna."

"I say we start with a drink," Jessica says, sweeping into the bullpen with a bottle of half-empty scotch in one hand. Louis trails a few steps behind, carrying four glasses. Donna manages a small smile, Harvey can barely muster a smirk.

Louis hands her two glasses, one for her and Harvey. Jessica pours each of them a generous amount. She looks like she might be about to toast their misery, instead she downs her entire drink in one elegant gulp.

"We rebuild tomorrow," she announces.

"Tomorrow," Louis echoes.

Harvey takes his glass from Donna's hand and mimics Jessica, swallowing his scotch in one swig.

"Then I'll see you all tomorrow."

Donna watches him leave as quickly as he came, unable to find the appropriate words to make him stay.

The first night is the hardest for Rachel, for the obvious reasons. Donna goes to her house and lets herself in with the spare key that Mike gave her just before the almost-wedding. Rachel looks near catatonic, huddled in the fetal position in a bed too large for one. Her eyes are closed, but tears stream steadily down her cheeks.

"I want to be alone," she says hoarsely.

Donna doesn't say anything, doesn't have to. She simply steps out of her heels, climbs into bed with her best friend and wraps her arms around her while she breaks out into a full sob. Later, Donna helps her strip off her wedding dress and promises that she'll keep it safe until Rachel can put it on again someday.

Rachel eventually tires herself out from crying, falling asleep hours later. Donna eases herself out of bed, careful not to disturb her. She shuffles over to the kitchen and fetches a bottle of water for Rachel and a several pain killers for the headache she is sure to wake up with. She returns to the bedroom and places the items on the side table within Rachel's reach.

Her phone vibrates from her purse. She takes it into the living room, closing Rachel's bedroom door behind her. She's hardly surprised when she sees his name as the caller ID.

"Harvey?" she whispers into the phone.

"Donna, where were you? I tried calling before," he says, almost petulantly.

"I'm with Rachel."

Donna drops down onto the couch and stretches, trying to work the kinks out of her neck.

"I'm still here but she's finally asleep."

"She okay?"

"No." After a beat she asks, "Are you?"

Harvey scoffs into the phone. "Not exactly."

Donna resists probing for more. "I'm sorry, Harvey."

"Hey, you did nothing wrong. I'm the criminal here, remember?"

There's a slight slur to his words that suggests he's probably been drink since he left the office earlier.

"Didn't we already have this conversation last night?"

"We did. And I shouldn't have listened to you."

Donna sinks further down into the couch, her eyelids fluttering closed. She's so tired of having to reassure this man. For once, she doesn't say anything. She lets the silence stretch on between them to the point where it's almost uncomfortable.

"Will you come over?" he eventually says.

"Harvey…"

"Donna, please."

"I don't think –"

"Can we just ignore the fact that it might not be a 'good idea'?"

Easier said than done. There's a reason they don't spend time together after hours anymore.

(You know I love you, Donna)

He senses her trepidation, "Donna, I just…need to be with someone who understands. Is that so terrible?"

"I'll be there in half an hour."

She finds him in far worse shape than he sounded over the phone. Harvey can hardly keep his head up – he's slumped heavily against the heel of his hand, nearly keeling over at his kitchen bench.

She unfurls the fingers that are gripped around his empty tumbler, takes the glass and fills it with tap water. She slides it back over to him.

"You look like complete shit."

With much effort, he lifts his head and stares at her.

"So do you."

She scoffs, "Impossible."

Though she can hardly feel like her million-dollar self when her make-up is stale, her heels are pinching her toes and her bridesmaid dress is a crumpled mess.

Harvey sloppily sips at the water she gave him. She eyes him with mild disgust and even in his inebriated state he can still read her expression. He shrugs.

"I've had a lousy day, Donna. Let's hold off the judgement until the morning."

She narrows her eyes at him. "I'm not judging. Wallow all you like, I just don't feel like playing babysitter all night."

"I'm not wall…wallowing."

Donna rolls her eyes. "How many drinks have you had between our phone conversation and now?"

Harvey does his best to give her a deadpan expression. "I don't need to be scolded, Donna."

"Oh yeah? Finish that water."

Harvey chuckles into his glass and Donna laughs in spite of herself.

"Come on, you are way drunker than I think even you realise."

Donna walks over to his side and grabs hold of his arms, hoisting him upright. He stands, barely, before he slumps against her like a deadweight, almost causing her to topple over.

"Alright, this isn't working."

She kicks off her heels, losing a few good inches in height, but regaining her balance. Harvey eyes her curiously.

"What is it?" she indulges him.

"Were you always this short?"

"I'm the same height as you, Harvey."

"Maybe with those insane heels on."

Donna attempts to shrug him off.

"If you can speak, you can certainly walk yourself to bed."

"'Course I can."

As amusing as she finds it to watch Harvey shuffle through his condo like a blind elderly woman, she takes mercy on him, reaching for his arm and guiding him to his bedroom. She realises this is the first time she's ever been inside, but quickly buries the thought into the far corner of her mind, somewhere next to the other time and "I can't be me without you". Their relationship has gained so much baggage over the years that she's running out of storage space.

He plops down onto his bed and tugs at his tie. Donna rolls her eyes and stands over him so she can loosen the tie and pull it over his head.

"Okay, I've poured you into bed. This well exceeds the parameters of my job. Goodnight Harvey."

"Donna, wait," he says as she is turning to leave. "Stay."

"Harvey, you're drunk," she says, anger clouding her voice. She's not about to jump into his bed because he's had a shitty day, or worse, because he's lonely

"Donna, I'm not suggesting that we –"

"Ah, stop right there."

"I'm not trying to be a pig here," he explains, sounding far more lucid than he did moments ago.

"Jesus, there needs to be some boundaries between us, Harvey."

"All we've ever had is boundaries," he murmurs.

Donna chooses to ignore the comment, because in spite of his protests, he's completely hammered, it's the middle of the night and he's just lost his firm and his best friend all in a matter of hours. They are long overdue for a conversation about where on earth they stand, but she had put it on the back burner in favour of helping Mike. Tonight is certainly not the time to revisit the concept of 'them'.

"I'm going home, Harvey. And you're going to pass out and wake up feeling like shit in the morning."

Harvey reaches out and takes her hand, looks her square in the eye and says, "Stay."

When she climbs into his bed, she tells herself it's because he's hurting, because he needs her, that she's doing this as a favour to him. But this is just as much about her too. She'll almost definitely regret it in the morning when she wakes up and they've taken two steps back again, but for a few hours at least, she's going to allow herself to need him as well.

She doesn't dare face him, but she can feel his breathing on her neck from the other side of the bed.

Donna scoots backwards, instinctively seeking his body heat. Harvey's hand snakes around her waist as he buries his face in her neck. There are about a thousand reasons why they shouldn't be doing this, and tonight will no doubt be another memory she'll have to repress.

"I'm glad you're here," he breathes into her skin.

Okay, maybe she'll allow herself to hold onto that.

Well you've made it to the end, thanks for not clicking exit halfway through ;) I don't really have plan with this one but there will almost definitely be more. I just wanted to get it out there.