Mike loved Rachel. That was no secret. He loved everything about her; her kindness; her tenacity; her little quirks. One thing he hated though was watching her cry, something that had been happening more and more frequently since she had started law school. He had known that it would be hard work, they both had, but she had been working from at least six in the morning to gone midnight, only stopping to go to the toilet or quickly grab something to eat so that she wouldn't pass out.

For the first few months of their relationship, she'd been quite secretive, doing seemingly random things without any explanation. Her daily routine was always the same, he'd noticed. She arrived at the office at exactly 7:38, and was logged onto her computer by 7:43. At 9:12 she would come to the bullpen to say hi to him and have a conversation for no longer than 4 minutes and then return to her desk. Once he had started to notice this, he picked up on other things too: like the fact that she had a rigid schedule that she stuck to, and that she got stressed when things didn't go to plan, stopping to close her eyes and take a breath, whispering something to herself that he couldn't hear.

It wasn't until they moved in together until they finally talked about it. When she had asked him to sit down because she had something important to say, he was terrified. He thought she was breaking up with him or that it was going to be something dreadful. It was then that she told him about her OCD. They stayed up for a long time talking about it.

Since then, he had gotten pretty good at recognising her triggers as well as helping her manage it. He tried as much as he could not to interrupt her schedule, as he knew it made her feel anxious and out of control. But he didn't change his own life to adhere to her lists and plans, she had told him that the best way to help her was to let her do what felt best, but not letting her control his life. The only time he intervened was when he could see that she was struggling.

That was what he saw that night, well that week really.

He knew that leaving the firm had been a good career move for him, and it took away the danger of being arrested, but it meant that it was that much harder for him to keep an eye on Rachel, which was important especially now that she had started law school. He knew that Donna would make sure she didn't overwork herself, but it was Harvey he was worried about. His demand that things be done perfectly and Rachel's need to live up to people's expectations was exhausting her.

He could see it in the bags under her eyes as they sat at the dinner table. Her hands were tucked into her jumper sleeves and he could tell she was playing with her fingers to ease her anxiety. The second she came through the door, she had taken off her work clothes and makeup, changing into one of his sweatshirts and some leggings so that she could start work right after dinner. She kept glancing up to the clock on the wall, doing the math in her head, delegating time to everything she had left to do. Her eyes flicked from side to side as she counted each breath, how many times she chewed each mouthful. It must be draining, he thought as he watched her brain work every second of every day.

Eventually, Mike decided that they should stop eating so that she could get back to her work, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to make a start while there were still dishes to wash, and she wouldn't be able to focus if he was doing them, they had to be just so to keep her mind at ease. He went to sit on the couch and watched her busy herself in the kitchen. He wanted to help, he really did, but knew that she needed space.

Unbeknownst to him, as she scrubbed the cup in her hand more and more vigorously, tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She counted each movement of the sponge, but her mind couldn't focus, her eyes wanted to shut, and she kept losing count. She reached out to place it on the counter, but put it too close to the edge.

From where he was sat, Mike heard a smash and quickly turned his head to see Rachel already crouched on the floor, picking up the pieces and letting out shaky breaths. She was flustered and he could tell. She was usually comfortable with body contact between them, but when he placed his hand on her upper arm she shifted her body away and continued to pick up the glass.

Tears started to stream down her face and her body started to shake as she sobbed. Her hands were moving so hastily that she managed to cut her finger on one of the shards of glass, but she wouldn't run it under water until she was sure every piece was off of the floor. Despite her boyfriend's constant reassurance, she still checked and checked until she was 100% sure. It wasn't until then that she stood up and let the water wash the blood off of her finger, then she started to rub her other hand over it, a crease forming between her brows, tears starting to stream again, as she ran one hand over the other, the water getting hotter and hotter until eventually it stopped running. She looked up at Mike not sure whether to be angry or grateful.

He led her away from the kitchen and into the bedroom. It was nearing 10, and he knew she would be intent on getting up at 6.

"Come on, lie down."

Any other day she would have argued, but tonight, she didn't. By this point she was so tired that as soon as her head hit the pillow she started to relax and fell asleep almost immediately.

He watched her as her shaky, hurried breaths started to regulate and her face looked less terrified and more tranquil. For at least 20 minutes after she fell asleep, he sat there, gently rubbing his thumb over her temple, which he knew would soothe her. Once he was sure she wouldn't wake up, he went to go and take a look at all the work she had to do. She had left it on the table, and he was shocked to see how much Harvey wanted her to do. He knew that each thing would take her much longer than he expected it would because she would need to do it to perfection, until it felt just right.

Part of him wanted to call Harvey that second and tell him to go easier on her, but he knew she didn't want him to manage her OCD for her, so instead planned to talk to her in the morning about speaking to him together to find a solution that would help.

After a couple of hours, he decided that he too should go to bed. Not wanting to wake her, he changed in the bathroom and then quietly slid under the covers next to her. When she felt the mattress move beneath her, she slowly moved her body so that her back was up against him, and when he placed his arm over her, she snuggled down into him even more.

He smiled to see her relaxed. He could tell that this was the first time in ages that her mind was not working overtime, and he was glad. He also knew, however, that tomorrow morning they would go back to square one, and she would probably be even more stressed, knowing that she had not completed any of the work she had to do that night. But he would cross that bridge when they came to it, because right now all he wanted to do was take this time to relax and sleep next to his girlfriend.