I just thought of this story, because I was bored but couldn't stop thinking about suits. Next summer? I mean really don't you think that's a bit long to wait when burn notice is coming back very soon? Ugh that sucks! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Suits :(
Laryngitis
Mike woke up to feel the inside of his throat on fire and raw; he felt like hell. He opened his eyes, only to see the blurred bedroom in his apartment. In order to clear his vision, he rubbed his eyes with pressure, trying to get rid of the sudden pounding headache. He felt like he was hungover or that he did some pot the night before, but he promised Harvey he wouldn't do that anymore.
"Harvey?" Thought Mike. "Oh, crap, what time is it?"
Mike rolled his throbbing head on the pillow to face his clock, only to see that it was almost eight o' clock.
"Shit!" he said aloud in weak, scratchy voice, causing him to break out in a coughing fit. After the bout of hacking up a lung, he shot up and threw off the covers, only to have a wave of nausea and dizziness overcome him. Mike squeezed his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose, waiting for it all to pass. He still felt like he was going to puke; his throat tickled, and when he tried to clear it, it felt like he swallowed a hundred razor blades. The worse part was that the tickling in his throat came right back again.
Hoarsely groaning in anger, irritating his throat, he pushed it aside, more worried about what Harvey would do when he shows up two hours late. He glanced, tiredly, at the clock once more and he groaned again. He needed to stop groaning or his throat would actually catch fire; not like he already didn't feel like it. Why was it so hot in here? He had to stop thinking about himself and think more about if he was going to still have his job when he showed up at 8:45.
"Wow, time flies when you're having fun," Mike thought sarcastically.
He sighed weakly and began to stand up. Instantly he dropped to the ground, hitting his cheek on the nightstand. He cried out in pain as he face connected with the nice cool floor. He thought it would hurt, and truthfully it did, but after a while it the floor felt soothing on his fevered and throbbing face.
"This is nice," Mike said weakly, bringing up the flames in his throat again. He felt like he could sleep here, and in seconds Mike's eyes closed, not even noticing the loud ringing of his phone.
*Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits*
Harvey was getting angrier every time he called Mike and he didn't answer. Something was nagging at him to be worried and go check to see if everything was okay, but the workaholic in him shoved it away,not caring about anything right now. Well, Mike was going to get it big time, but right now he had a client that he needed to meet with-alone- and he would need to wait until it was done. Then he would kick Mike's ass.
"Donna, after my meeting with Miss. Dalton, clear all my other appointments, I have to go kick someone's ass later."
"Of course Harvey," Donna said with humor in her tone.
Harvey sighed and gathered what he had for files and left his office, a scowl on his face. Today was not the day to mess with Harvey Specter.
After he met with Kathy Dalton, the client with the sexual harassment case, Harvey called Ray and asked him to bring him to Mike's apartment. During the ride there he was assuming scenarios on why Mike hadn't showed up. One assumption that was probably accurate was that Mike went against his promises and was doing drugs again. At that thought, anger boiled up inside of him, making him want to kick his associates butt even harder.
When Ray dropped him off at Mike's, Harvey stalked up to his apartment, more anger in each step. When Harvey finally reached the tattered door, he banged on it, calling out Mike's name.
"Mike! Mike, answer the door, Dammit! Your ass is mine if I have to come in there!"
No response.
"You think you can do pot and get away with it? You are three hours late for work, and you're damn lucky that I'm not firing you!"
Silence.
Harvey was pissed, but then again a bit concerned. He just hoped that Mike was somewhere, or maybe finally at the office. Just to make sure, he called Donna to ask if Mike had arrived yet.
"No. No he's not here; is something wrong?" Donna asked worriedly.
"I don't know," replied Harvey, then he quickly hung up. He called out and knocked on Mike's door before making his decision. Harvey kicked down the door and burst inside the messy apartment.
"Mike!" He yelled as he looked around for signs of life. Mike's bike and messenger bag were still in the kitchen, but the associate was no where to be seen. The worry in his stomach grew more and more, which rarely ever happened with him. Maybe he was still sleeping? Slowly traveling to the bedroom, he looked around seeing no one; the only thing he saw was Mike's cellphone, beeping loudly from missed calls.
Suddenly, he saw a pale hand poking out from behind the bed, and Harvey rushed over and sure enough, it was Mike. Only it was a sicker looking form of him; he looked like death warmed over, a thin layer of sweat coating his pallid face. Harvey could hear the hitch in Mike's shallow breathing, so something was definitely wrong.
"Mike! Michael!" Harvey yelled, shaking his associate's shoulder gently. When he did, he could feel the shoulder trembling under his hand. Mike was definitely sick.
"Mike, wake up!" he yelled again, getting no response. Now Harvey was scared, he couldn't revive Mike, and when he noticed the giant egg on Mike's cheek, the worrying meter was over the top.
Suddenly a low growl rang out in the room. At first Harvey thought that Mike had gotten a dog, but then he realized that it'd come from Mike.
"Mike?" questioned a startled Harvey. Finally, Mike's eyes fluttered open and Harvey could see that his eyes were glazed over. Once they cleared, the big blue eyes widened in realization.
"Harvey!" Mike's said in a raw voice, which made Harvey wince. Before Mike could let out another word, he began coughing harshly. Harvey put an assuring hand on Mike's shoulder as he waited for the coughing to end. When it did, Mike had to wait for his breathing to become even again.
"Harvey, I'm so sorry I'm late, I'll just get ready right now," Mike said as he tried weakly to get up.
"Mike are you alright? You look like death warmed over."
"Sounds someone cares," Mike said, his breathing hitching again as he tried to attempt at humor.
Harvey smirked as he helped Mike up onto his bed.
"What's wrong with your voice?" Harvey asked. Mike shrugged tiredly as he attempted to stand up.
"No, you're not going anywhere until we figured out what's wrong with you."
"Harvey Specter: a caring person,"stated Mike giving his Boss a smile.
"I'm not caring, I just don't want you getting the whole office sick with what you have...whatever you have."
"Whatever."
*Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits**Suits*
