Accused

Hi again! I got another idea and I just had to get it down while it was fresh in my head. I LOVE SUITS! So there's a lot of Harvey guilt/caring and Mike hurt :) Hope you like and and don't forget to review!

Disclaimer: I don't own suits :(

Why did he always have to work so late? Or was it early? He didn't even know anymore. Mike looked at his watched and sighed as he rubbed his face in exhaustion. It was five thirty in the morning and he'd been at Pearson Hardman since eleven last night. Harvey had him working on this big case that if he messed up or didn't finish the files by 8 am this morning, he'd be passed on to Louis for an ass chewing. Mike groaned in the thought as he resumed looking at the files for the Paul Brisk lawsuit. This was going to be a long day.

It had only been two hours since he realized it was morning and associates were starting to file in, which meant Harvey would be coming in 30 minutes. He was so close to being done, just a few more pages. The next time he looked at his watch, his eyes grew wide. Was it really eight already? Mike took a deep breath and finished up the last few paragraphs. Almost there...just a few more words...done! Mike sighed in content and leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles. He finished in no time to spare; time to reward himself with some freshly made coffee. Mike stood up only to fall back into chair. He must be more tired then he thought. Mike tried again, more slowly, and stretched. Once he was sure he wouldn't pass out, he made his way to the break room. When he got closer, he could smell the the brewing coffee coming out of the room. Good, now I don't have to make it myself. But his happiness only lasted a few more seconds, because when he entered the room, he saw Harold sitting at a table and Greg leaning on the counter. Shit! Mike groaned inwardly and was considering turning back around, but Greg already noticed him.

"Well if it isn't the Golden Boy," sneered Greg. "You think you're so popular, you're gonna make this place your home now, or maybe you don't even have a home and you have to live in a crappy nursing home with your dying Grammy," laughed Greg as he gave a fake cough.

"Fuck off, Greg, at least I get to work for Harvey instead of stress ball Louis. Does he have you polish them every time he uses them? So much sweat, I bet."

Greg scowled at him, but kept his mouth shut. Harold just sat quietly, listening to the conversation, not saying a thing. Mike grinned at his comeback as he poured the steaming coffee into a mug. Suddenly, his phone rang loudly in the quiet room and Mike dug it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. Harvey. He groaned quietly as he reluctantly answered the phone.

"Yeah?"

"Do you have those files? They better be finished and on my desk in one minute, or else."

"I'm on my way right now, files in hand," Mike lied as he left the break room, and coffee, to go to his cubicle for the files.

"45 seconds, Mike," said Harvey coolly before he hung up the phone.

Mike put his phone away and bolted to his desk to snatch the papers.

Break Room

Greg watched as Mike ran out of the room, to his cubicle and disappeared around the corner to, what he assumed was going to be, Harvey's office. He shook his head in hatred and he wanted to figure out a way to get back at the asshole. Greg looked around the room and noticed that Harold had taken out his eye drops...again. What a loser. Harold was just about to put liquid into his eye before Greg came over to him.

"Give me that," Greg growled as he snatched the bottle from Harold.

"Hey! What are you doing with that?" He whined.

"Shut up, and don't say a word to anyone of what I'm going to do."

"What are you going to-"

"Quiet!" Greg shushed as he went over to Mike's unattended coffee and grinned evilly. Perfect. He filled the dropper with the eye medicine then took it out of the bottle as he brought it over the coffee and put five drops in. He did three sets of five drops before he put the cap on the bottle and returned it to Harold. Then he took a spoon and stirred the medicine into the coffee.

"That ought to show him," he whispered.

Just as he finished stirring and threw the spoon into the sink, Mike came strolling down the hallway, heading for the break room. Greg stood back to where he was, leaning on the counter, pretending like nothing happened. He gave one last glare to Harold, before Mike came in and grabbed his now poisoned coffee and took a long sip. Greg grinned as he tried to staunch his snickering. Mike stopped drinking and frowned at him as he turned away and left the room. Harold shook his head disapprovingly as he got up and left, too. Greg suddenly grabbed his arm and looked at him angrily.

"If you say anything to Ross or anyone else for that matter, you will regret it. So shut up."

Harold nodded as he and Greg left the room with secrets that may never be revealed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SUITS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SUITS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was starting to feel like crap; he was feeling nauseous and cold for some reason and he could not figure out why. Mike rubbed his eyes for the hundredth time to try and focus his blurring eyes. What was wrong with him? To make matters worse, his head was pounding like a bass drum and he could not think. Maybe he was coming down with something. Something vibrated angrily in his pocket and it made him jump out of his sickly thoughts. He searched unconsciously for the source and after what felt like five minutes, he found his phone. It was right in front of him on his desk. Something is definitely wrong with him. When he finally answered it he recognized the voice.

"My office. Now."

Before Mike could respond, Harvey hung up on him. Mike shook his head, which he instantly regretted since it made him almost throw-up, and he got up, swaying a bit, and then stumbling to Harvey's office.

"You needed me?" He said as he tried not to pass out. Harvey's back was turned to him as he began to speak to Mike.

"These files: the last few pages are sloppy. You need to wake up and redo-" Harvey turned around, but stopped in mid sentence when he saw Mike's appearance. He was flushed and his eyes were unfocused. Even his breathing was a little...off. Harvey frowned angrily as he sat down and turned away from Mike once again.

"You're fired," he said simply.

"What?"

"You heard me. Get out, I don't want to see you ever again."

"Why?" Shouted Mike, clearly shocked.

"Because, Mike, you're high. I can tell. How the hell do you get high in an hour? A secret stash in your desk?"

"No! I'm not high, Harvey! I'm sick that's all."

"I don't believe you. Now get out before I call security on you."

Mike looked at Harvey, his mouth open in surprise. How could Harvey not believe him? What happened to trusting each other? Harvey reached for his phone slowly and Mike put his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay, I'm going. I just can't believe you don't trust me Harvey," Mike muttered as he left the office and went to elevator. When he got in, he was so happy he was the only one in it, because he couldn't keep the tears in any longer. He pressed the button for the ground floor and he leaned heavily against the wall, tears slipping down his cheek and onto his suit. How could Harvey not believe him? Why did he always accuse him for being high just because he looked a little red? Harvey was unbelievable. I can't believe I ever trusted him.

"Hey, kid, you getting out?" A voice called, startling Mike out of his thoughts. He looked around and saw that the elevator door was open and people were waiting to see if he was getting out.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Mike mumbled as he pushed through everyone and walked through the lobby and out the door. By the time he was out into the fresh air, he hoped that he would be able to breath better. He was wrong. His chest was tight and his breathing was labored. He couldn't breath; it felt like a snake was coiling around his throat, getting ready for the kill. People walking by looked at him strangely, some giving him angry looks as he stumbled into them.

"Watch where you're going!" Yelled one of them.

"Sorry," Mike muttered hoarsely. He wished he could get home before he passed out from lack of oxygen, but there wasn't enough time. He was going to embarrass himself by passing out in the yard of Pearson Hardman. He just hoped someone would be kind enough to help him instead of stepping all over him. With that being the last thought, Mike stopped breathing and he began plummeting to the hard ground, luckily passing out before he hit the concrete.