Trevor had once convinced him that anyone in a suit was evil. Simple. Parents wore suits, teachers wore suits, undercover cops wore suits, higher up cops wore suits; lawyers wore suits. Get into trouble and it was undoubtedly a suit that would just help you into your grave.
It was only when Mike started working for Harvey that he realised Trevor had it completely backwards.
People in suits grabbed you from the grave's edge.
Although not without some tutting and rolling of eyes as they did so.
- 1 -
When Mike had stumbled into that interview, he hadn't expected to be hired for a law firm. He was simply - as he had told Donna - trying to ditch the cops. When he had gotten in there this imposing man in a suit had for some reason been interested in him. The guy hadn't called the cops, he'd even said he'd make sure they weren't waiting for him.
But then he was hired.
Suddenly, Mike had a job. A well-paying job. He could pay for his grandmother's care and then slowly pay off his debts. He stopped smoking pot and cut off all ties with Trevor. Because of this he no longer constantly felt tired - and when he did it was a satisfied tired; a proud ache that came from knowing he had done good work; work he had dreamed about doing all his life.
He was now slowly allowing himself to look policemen in the eye if he passed them in the street and allowed himself to act like himself around the intimidating guy in the suit who had hired him. The first time; he had offered a small fist bump after a week of knowing this man and although he had snorted and refused to reciprocate; Mike was surprised that Harvey hadn't thrown him out the building.
Mike was now more trusting; he thought that before, maybe the pot had made him paranoid, but it was more than that - if he could trust one of the city's best lawyers; who couldn't he trust? It was possibly seen as a bad thing, this naivety, but Mike was just happy that he could walk around with that feeling of being able to form a solid first impression before deciding who he could and could not trust, rather than having a preconception ready.
In all these ways and infinitely more, Harvey Specter had saved his life.
He had pulled him out from under the sneaking shadow that was following him and what could possibly have ruined his life.
And Mike secretly thanked him every day.
- 2 -
Harvey Specter was a lot of things, and although he would try to make people think that he was cold - this wasn't one of them. He was very warm when he had to be. Trying to charm new clients, old clients - old friends. Rarely new friends. Back when he had been desperate to fit into the law world he had tried to make friends with all the other associates.
Much like Mike had tried. At first.
He still did; Harvey had seen the hurt in his associate's eyes when the others mocked him. As much as he wanted to intervene - this happened all the time. Associates tried to tear each other's throats out every chance they got and none of their superiors cared. In fact, there was a constant betting pool in the partners' break room. Pranks always occurred and the partners delighted in spectator sports.
Harvey had to admit that when Mike inched slowly into his office, wearing a bright pink tie with red love hearts on, he had stared indignantly before smirking and eventually laughing at the younger man. And though he knew it was somehow the other associates' doing, he teased Mike about it for weeks.
However, each time Mike had come into his office, looking down and hoping that the dressing down he got wouldn't be as harsh as he was anticipating - it became less funny. Not because the pranks were always the same or dull.
They were just cruel.
There was the time Mike's files had been 'lost' and Harvey had very nearly lost a client over it. The time when one of very few pictures of his parents had somehow managed to come out of the photo frame and fly into the paper shredder. Then that time when Harvey had to clench his fists to stop them shaking in anger when Mike had limped into his office and asked in a shaky voice if he could do his work in there after the other associates had effectively kidnapped him - an actual, all out kidnap involving a blindfold, some cold medicine (Because they obviously didn't know where to get their hands on chloroform) and a filing room that no one ever uses.
Apparently Mike had managed to tear the blindfold off his face and in his panic had hit his shin off a large rack; hence the limping. He was groggy for the rest of the day due to the medicine he was given and more than once Harvey had to stop himself from firing each and every one of the associates that had caused his both emotional and physical trauma.
After this, Harvey made a point of checking on Mike whenever he had a free moment.
One day as he passed through - he was always very careful to not be seen unless he had to, and was meandering down a different part of the corridor, he was astounded that the Harvard graduates snickering in a corner were actually functional enough to live, let alone pass a law exam.
"He'll never know what hit him!" One of them guffawed hysterically.
"I bet this'll knock that precious memory of his right out of his head!" Another said victoriously.
Harvey stopped dead and followed their eye line to where Mike was wearily sitting down on his seat, looking for a file on the organised mess on his desk. He sighed and glanced to the large filing cabinet next to his cubicle. Harvey saw that the top drawer was open, wavering precariously on it's hinges. If Mike had been more alert he would have seen that something was amiss but he was too busy grumbling darkly and glaring over at the group of snickering associates, knowing they were behind yet another file missing.
Harvey saw the top drawer waver some more and before he knew it he had started sprinting towards Mike.
All Mike knew was that one minute he was searching in the bottom drawer of his cabinet, and then he heard Harvey shout his name. He looked up before feeling a body crash into his, pulling him from the chair. He ultimately ended up lying underneath Harvey, the breath knocked out of him. He jumped as a crash echoed just after this and his top drawer had fallen off, landing exactly where his head had been 5 seconds before.
"I... shit. Shit, Harvey - you..." Mike tried to catch his breath back, watching as Harvey stood up off him, buttoning up his suit jacket and eyeing him with anger in his eyes.
"You alright?" He asked.
Mike nodded, his eyes wide.
Harvey nodded back and walked away to the group of associates who now looked as though they were wetting themselves.
- 3 -
Okay, this time may have been Mike's fault slightly; but if you asked him, he would deny it. He had left his apartment in a hurry - leaving only 10 minutes to arrive at the firm where Harvey would be stood waiting, looking at his watch as if glaring at it would set the time back.
He skidded in and out of traffic, wincing whenever a car horn blasted at him. Several times he felt a car skim his legs and had to try to even out his breathing even though he was pushing himself faster than ever. When he finally came in sight of Pearson Hardman, he found he could just make out the figure of a well dressed man standing by the bike racks with clear distaste on his features. Mike pushed a bit faster and instead of going round and up the ramp he decided the quickest way would be up the steps.
Doing this, he made it half way up when his front wheel caught on a step and he found the bike flipping up, sending him over the handlebars... and right into the arms of Harvey.
Mike caught his breath in his throat as he quickly scrambled to his feet, ignoring the looks of bystanders. "Did we take the stabilisers off too soon?" Harvey asked him gruffly, letting go of the forearms he had grabbed to stop Mike face planting the pavement.
"I'm not used to biking up steps," Mike muttered, grabbing his bike and letting the despair show on his face when he saw that the handlebars were twisted. He rubbed at his hair in frustration.
"Why weren't you wearing your helmet?" Harvey asked him, glaring.
"Sorry, dad," Mike gave him a glare back. "But I had to leave my apartment quickly to get here on time so I forgot it. And you don't like it anyway."
"You don't wear your bike helmet because I don't like how it looks?" Harvey asked exasperatedly. "You see me throwing away my three piece suits because you don't like vests?"
Mike shifted uncomfortably, attaching his out-of-shape bike to the railings as Ray got out of the car to open the door for Harvey. "Vests don't save lives," Mike muttered.
"Well if helmets do, why aren't you wearing it?" Harvey asked him, rolling his eyes.
"Well why would I need it if you're here to save me?" Mike asked sweetly, fluttering his eyelids.
Harvey punched him in the shoulder.
- 4 -
"Harvey, I can't come in now - I need to catch up on sleep. I don't think you realise that we aren't all Senior Partners who aren't actual human beings. I need sleep," Mike argued down the phone. It was 3:30 am and he was lying in bed with his hand over his face as he talked.
"Mike, get your ass down here now. Some of this is your fault, so you're coming in when I am. If you're a good boy, I'll let you have nap-time in my office, okay?" Harvey replied; and although Mike knew he was joking, he couldn't help but feel extremely tempted by that offer.
He gave a sigh and scrubbed his face tiredly. "Okay, I'm coming, give me 15 minutes to - "
"Mike; I want you here 15 minutes ago."
With that, Harvey hung up. Mike groaned but stuck some shoes on. He was wearing an old, ragged, long-sleeved top with old grey pyjama pants and quickly grabbed a suit and stuck it in his messenger bag so he could change when he got there - knowing it would be an all nighter.
He flew down the stairs, even with his bike, and made it to the firm in 15 minutes exactly. He locked his bike and ignored the confused look the security guard gave him as he flashed his badge, knowing he looked more like a 14 year old who had just woken up than an associate at the firm.
He wearily reached Harvey's office, expecting the glare he received. "Okay, yeah, I didn't get here as soon as you put the phone down - sorry," he muttered, slumping down on the couch, opening his messenger bag and pulling out any relevant documents he had to this case.
After half an hour of solid work he had a phone call. Ignoring the glare he got (And why was he getting so many of them today?) he answered. "Hello?"
"Oh, hi - sorry to call you at this hour; is this Mike Ross?"
"Yeah... who is this?"
"Hi, I'm Marie, I'm a nurse at your grandmother's care home, and - "
"Is she okay?" Mike sat bolt upright, staring ahead, hearing blood rush to his head.
"She's fine, she's just worried. Again, I'm sorry to call you now, but; well, your grandmother finds it difficult to sleep sometimes so we leave the television on for her and she was watching the news. Apparently your apartment building caught fire and... well, I don't know if she got the right address, but - "
"No, she got the wrong address," he answered hollowly. "Tell her I'm fine."
"I will; thank you, Mr Ross; sorry about this."
"It's fine. Goodnight," Mike hung up, staring into the distance.
"Mike?" Harvey said. "Who was that?"
Mike stood up, ignoring Harvey and walked to the break room where a small TV was set up. He turned it onto the news and watched in horror. Pictures of his apartment building ablaze, with the text at the bottom reading that it had started at approximately 3:40am. His palms started to go clammy as he realised that it was Harvey's phone call that had stopped him actually burning to death in his sleep.
"Mike, what the hell - " Harvey stopped as he saw what Mike was watching. "That's your apartment," he murmured.
Mike nodded before turning to Harvey. "If you hadn't rushed me, I could've died," Mike whispered, staring at his boss.
"Does this mean I'm your hero?" Harvey smirked, trying to play it off like no big deal. He wasn't ready for Mike smack into him in a hug. He slowly moved his arms to go round the younger man, patting him awkwardly and swallowing as he felt Mike trembling slightly.
"I could've died," Mike whispered again, causing Harvey to tighten his arms slightly.
This kid would not die on his watch.
- 5 -
"Uh, Harvey, I think your puppy's chewing on something he found on the floor," Donna pointed out, nodding over to where they could both see Mike chewing on a highlighter cap in thought. Harvey rolled his eyes.
"Want me to smack him on the nose?" Harvey offered, flicking through some paperwork he had to sign and give Donna. The kid would have to get out of this habit of looking like he was thinking. It looked infinitely cooler if everyone thought you were doing nothing and then you suddenly come up with a masterpiece.
He heard Donna gave a small gasp and looked up at her. "What?"
"I think you'll need to smack him on the back," she said, pointing to Mike. Harvey frowned and turned before he felt his eyes widen in shock.
Mike was sat on Harvey's couch, the chewed highlighter sitting demolished on the table in front of him as he was gasping for breath, choking on what was no doubt a small piece of yellow plastic that had snapped off. "Oh Jesus," he muttered, marching into his office.
"I leave you for one minute!" Harvey exclaimed, pretending that the sight of Mike choking and staring up at him with huge, watery eyes wasn't distressing to him at all. He quickly shed his jacket and got behind Mike, thanking the stars that Jessica had insisted on first aid courses for all employees.
He took hold of Mike and started to thrust his hands upwards into the younger man's sternum. "Don't you dare pass out on me, Mike," Harvey threatened, seeing the associate's lips slowly turning blue. "I don't know what to do with a fake-crying Donna, let alone a real one."
He gave one last thrust and felt relief as he heard something twang and saw a flash yellow fly across his room. He slowly released Mike, who was coughed and drawing in deep breaths and rubbing at his mouth to quickly get rid of any spit that had built up.
"You alright?" Harvey asked, putting his jacket back on and fastening it with a flourish as if nothing had happened. Mike's gasping eased up and he nodded, now rubbing at his throat. "What happened?" Harvey asked him.
"I was just working," Mike defended himself. "And a chunk of the highlighter lid snapped off and... just went down funny, I guess."
Harvey surveyed him with a critical eye. "You're an idiot," he then proceeded the hit Mike over the head with a folder.
"Ow!" Mike rubbed at the spot. "First I nearly choke to death and then you try to give me concussion?"
"Bad puppy," Harvey admonished. "We don't chew things off the floor. Donna!" He yelled, bringing the assistant in the room.
"Yes?" She asked, looking at Mike in the same way Harvey had done.
"Book an appointment at the vets and clear my schedule."
"Yes, Sir," she said, saluting.
Mike just groaned and slumped down the couch, feeling slightly better as Harvey patted his head softly before going to sit at his desk (And hopefully not find the slobbery, broken piece of highlighter sitting on his expensive leather chair).
- +1 -
"Mike, are you trying to gloat?"
"Oh no, not at all... It's just - I'm waiting here by the bike racks for you and you're nowhere to be found. It's now," he checked his watch, "2:32pm and you're not here."
"Well done, you can tell the time. Just don't do anything stupid until I get there."
"What could I do? I'm stood outside the firm, Harvey, I'm not exactly going to - " Mike got cut off as he heard a scream from someone further down the path from him.
"Mike? What's happening? Was that a scream?"
"Harvey if I didn't know any better, I'd say you cared," Mike grinned even though he was quite worried about what was going on. He craned his neck to see what was happening and fidgeted impatiently as he desperately wanted to go further down the side walk to join the crowd but couldn't as he was supposed to stay there until Harvey pulled up.
"I don't. Look, I'm about 1 minute away, try not to get yourself killed, okay?"
Mike tutted as Harvey hung up, and slid his phone into his pocket. He frowned as he saw that the large crowd was now running - towards him, he noticed.
"Look out, he's got a gun!" Someone screamed, before there was a gunshot and another scream. Mike reacted instinctively to the sound (hey, he was born and raised in New York) and flinched, diving to the floor - as many others had too. He crawled over to the large stone bannister-like railing outside the firm and crouched behind it, peeking his head up to see what was happening. A man was running down the road clutching a gun and Mike eyes widened as the car he noticed as Harvey's was pulling up close to the gunman.
"Harvey!" He yelled before he could stop himself and then threw himself to the floor as fast as he could as the gunman's head whipped around and in his panic fired off several bullets before running off.
"Mike!" He heard Harvey shout and wanted to stand up and gloat that he had technically just saved Harvey's life and he was late and Mike hadn't gotten himself killed waiting. But there was an odd burning sensation in his side and a sudden pain flared up his side when he tried to move and oh god, he'd just been shot.
"Mike," Harvey suddenly appeared before him, crouching down with a large eyes and a worried look on his face.
"Harvey," Mike groaned. "You're late."
He then passed out.
"Well, Mr Ross was lucky," the doctor said. "The bullet missed any vital organs and went clean through him - it chipped a rib but we've repaired that; he'll need to rest for at least 2 weeks now though."
"That's fine, Doctor, thank you," Harvey thanked the doctor and went to the room the doctor had indicated as belonging to Mike. As much as he had wanted to wait for news, his meeting couldn't be cancelled and he had to proceed to it without Mike; late only because he had waited until he had seen the ambulance drive out of sight. He quickly tried to freshen himself up in the car ride on the way to the client's house and by the time he got out of the car, his hands had stopped shaking.
He had called Donna who had sat in the waiting room for the hours Harvey hadn't been there, and when he had joined her, they had sat in silence.
Harvey slowly entered Mike's room, sitting down in the chair next to the bed. A large padding on Mike's side showed him where the bullet had entered and left his associate's body and Harvey squeezed his hands together as he thought of how he had found Mike, lying outside the firm, gripping his side as a small puddle of blood started to form around him.
"I'm sorry, Mike," Harvey muttered, fairly confident that no one could hear him but a nurse outside who was chatting to a janitor; and he was sure neither of them really cared about anything but the conversation they were having at that moment. "I should know by now that any time you're left alone there's the potential for injury. I'm just sorry I wasn't there to save you this time."
"You're always there to save me," Mike murmured from his drug haze, and Harvey blinked as he looked down on the barely-awake man.
"Mike, how do you feel?"
"Wasn't your fault," Mike told him, losing the battle to stay awake for any longer. "You always save me."
Harvey sat back as Mike fell asleep again. He was right. Harvey did always save him. And if this experience was anything to go by, Harvey just needed to perfect his technique, that's all.