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The Tower felt different when they arrived back in the evening.
Not quieter, exactly. The late-night hum of systems still filled the halls; air handlers pulsing softly behind metal sheeting, but there was an odd sort of heaviness now. The kind that settled into everyone after a long, arduous day.
…A long, arduous week.
…A long, painful, everything.
Dockside helped at least a little bit. They'd managed to regroup… well, for the most part… and they'd had a pleasant evening as friends, but the absences were still clearly felt.
Dick wasn't there. Nor Wally. Or Vic. Not Jesse, either.
You couldn’t laugh away all of the things that happened earlier. Not entirely, anyways.
And that was besides all of the raw, bitter emotions he knew all the rest of their team members were going through at the moment…
Garth let the others disperse, drifting apart from each other like unmoored ships on a rocky sea.
Inwardly, he sighed. Realistically, he should be heading back to Poseidonis. Dolphin was surely waiting for him, wondering when he'd return. A part of him tugged in that direction-- duty, expectation, the life he was supposed to be building-- plus, there was always more work to do whether he was topside or not, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he still needed to do here. Something unfinished and unaccounted for that he needed to tackle before he’d feel comfortable going anywhere else.
Donna…
In a way, he knew that she'd been struggling lately. Between her fears about not being herself, the pressure of the team, and her issues with Roy… Well, if he was in her shoes, he had no doubt that he'd be more than a little overwhelmed. And then there was the constant stream of teammates coming to her for help, unintentionally forcing her into the role of Dear Abby…
They might have already talked about it earlier, but still…
Cautiously, he trailed Donna down the hall, maintaining a modicum of distance even though he was fairly certain she knew he was there. A part of his brain tried to convince himself that he wasn't hovering-- even though, realistically, he knew that he was--
Donna moved slowly, shifting from side to side on her feet. She didn't appear unsteady, thankfully. Instead, she just looked weighed down; like the baggage she always held was just that much heavier.
Her door slid open with a quiet hiss, and she stepped inside, letting the metal shut swiftly behind her.
For a moment, Garth hesitated.
He should probably let her be. She deserved rest. She’d already given enough of herself to everyone today, and it was pretty late…
But the image of her snapping earlier-- the sharpness in her voice, the tremble she covered with anger, the way she apologized even though she was the one everyone leaned on-- lingered in his mind despite all of her assurances to the contrary.
He raised his hand and knocked gently on the doorframe.
Half a second later, the door slid back open, revealing Donna looking over from her bed. One of her boots was already off, and she looked positively exhausted, but her posture still straightened slightly when he entered.
“Garth,” she said, plastering on a smile. “Need something?”
Garth frowned. Oh, Donna…
“Hey,” he said softly, opting to bypass her question. “You okay?”
She blinked, looking almost taken off-guard by his query.
“I'm… fine, Garth, really. I just got a little overwhelmed earlier is all.” Her voice came across as sincere-- almost calm, but he'd known Donna for long enough to hear the undertone hidden beneath it. Even if she didn't quite believe she was the same person she'd been after being pieced together by Wally's memories, some things would always stay the same.
He closed the door behind him, moving to sit beside her on the bed. “I just… I wanted to apologize.”
She paused in the act of tugging off her other boot. “For what, sweetie?”
Garth swallowed. The words felt clumsy in his mouth, although he wished they didn't. “Earlier. I didn’t think… I didn’t consider everything you’ve been dealing with.”
Donna sighed like she’d been expecting this conversation eventually.
“Garth,” she said, “You don’t need to apologize. Really. You didn't know that Kory was already there or that Dick was coming, too, and-”
He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“That's precisely the thing, though,” he started. “You… you do so much for all of us. And sometimes everyone kind of… forgets that you’re allowed to have bad days too. I'm just… sorry I didn't realize that sooner.”
Something flickered across her face for a moment. Surprise, perhaps. Or something deeper that she wouldn't allow to surface.
Then, Donna stood and pulled him up with her. She rested her hands against his arms, grounding herself.
“You’re sweet,” she murmured, letting a fond smile creep onto her face. “But I promise, I’m not upset with you.”
“I know,” he said.
He did know. She wasn’t angry. That wasn’t the problem.
“You just… it seemed like maybe you could use someone else to be there for you for a change.”
Donna exhaled slowly, the sound barely audible. Her hands slipped from his arms, and for the briefest moment she looked at him like she wasn’t sure whether to thank him or deflect.
Then she stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.
It wasn’t dramatic. She didn’t tremble or gasp or sag into him. She just… held on. Firm. Steady. Like someone anchoring herself in a current that had been pulling too hard for too long.
Garth hugged her back gently. Donna smelled faintly of soap and cold night air, her hair brushing his cheek.
“Thank you,” she murmured, almost too quietly to hear.
He nodded against her shoulder, running a warm, comforting hand up her spine.
A moment passed. Another.
And then, very quietly, he felt the minute tightening of her fingers at his back. A breath that hitched-- not enough to call a sob, but enough to betray her facade of calm.
Donna pulled back quickly, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her palm. “Sorry,” she said, almost laughing at herself. “Long day.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” he replied.
“I know,” she said-- though she didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Force of habit.”
He nodded. They both understood.
Donna sat back down onto her mattress, letting herself flop backwards as it sank beneath her weight. One of her arms still draped across her face to hide her eyes, trying to blot away the remaining tears.
Garth sat back beside her, letting the both of them simply breathe for a moment.
She didn’t ask him to stay, but she didn’t ask him to leave either. And in a way, her silence was a permission of its own kind.
For once, she could allow herself to be the one getting comforted.
Donna shifted first, leaning subtly into Garth's space. She didn't move fully at first, just enough that her shoulder pressed against his, her head tilting slightly toward him. When he lifted his arm in invitation, she eased into the spot as naturally as if she’d done it a thousand times.
Slowly, he scooted them up the bed until his head found one of Donna's pillows. She curled up at his side without hesitation, settling her head against his chest, fingers lightly resting near his ribs.
“There,” she whispered, half-lidded. “That’s better.”
Garth smiled faintly.
Donna had always been an affectionate friend, and although he was usually less so, he had to admit that this felt nice. It was pleasant, actually, to be the one comforting her for once instead of the other way around.
Donna relaxed gradually, the tension melting from her muscles. Her breathing started to even out as the minutes ticked on, each exhale softer than the one before.
Garth had to admit, she put up a good fight against the pull of slumber, but eventually the exhaustion pulled her under, lulling her to sleep.
He wondered for a moment if he should go-- leave her to rest peacefully through the night without his inevitable tossing and turning, but another part of his mind silently begged him to stay. Maybe, in a way, he needed this too.
None of their lives were perfect-- far from it, really-- and he held woes that somehow felt lighter here too.
Of course, he wasn't going to be able to fall asleep here. The air felt heavy and strange in his lungs, dry in a way his body never fully adjusted to even if he could draw in atmospheric moisture now. The bed was too still, the environment too quiet. The land had always lacked the natural rhythm of the tides and currents that usually soothed him into unconsciousness.
But for now, none of that mattered. No doubt that he'd have to get up at some point and head back to the pool or begin the long trek home, but in the present, Donna was warm against his side. Her presence kept his mind anchored, letting his thoughts stay moored; away from the familiar spirals of doubt and what-ifs and old ghosts he’d grown all too accustomed to carrying.
Yeah, he thought, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he needed this, too.
He didn’t need the ocean tonight. He didn’t need to sleep. He just needed to be here for his friend, a steady presence in the dark, holding onto someone who had spent far too much time holding everyone else.