I seem incapable of writing anything short that isn't depressing.
Original prompt: Harvey is sootfaced, rumpled, blood on him. He looks horror stricken ahead as he holds Mike close. He is forcing a quivering (crying?) scared Mike to him, using one hand to cover Mikes eyes so he can't see what's in front of them. Blood is trickling through Harvey's hand indicating they are both injured. Mike is also rumpled. He is holding Harvey tightly.
Don't care if it is gen, pre-slash, established. All is good and open to the author.
The building had gone up in smoke, folded in like a house of cards, and scattered debris everywhere.
It had taken all of his willpower to pull Mike from that room a few minutes ago. Or was it seconds? He wasn't really sure. He knew he'd blacked out from the explosion, after they'd hit the slab of drywall that was miraculously still intact.
Harvey cracked his eyes open, blinking away ash and black spots that danced in his vision. He felt like he'd just had a piano dropped on his head and his ears were ringing as sound crept up on him.
He vaguely realized that he was bleeding from somewhere, but he didn't care. He needed to find Mike.
He could hear the soft lick of distant flames and it made his need to find Mike all the more pressing. He scanned his surroundings for any signs of his associate.
He found him lying under some debris and rubble a few feet from the room they'd been in when the explosion went off.
Harvey crawled over to him, feeling a burst of fading energy at the sight of the unconscious man.
Pulling the scraps of wood and wall away from Mike's collapsed form, ignoring the splinters and cuts he received, he shook his associate.
"Mike?" he called out desperately, and was rewarded with a groan from the man.
Mike's eyes opened and they were unfocused and glassy. He turned to look at the room before them, and Harvey pulled him away from that sight. He held Mike against his chest, ignored his weak attempts to push away, to turn his head and gaze upon that terrible scene.
Harvey pulled them both back until they were leaning against something, probably a fallen support beam or something.
Mike whimpered and Harvey clutched him close, knowing that Mike was hurt worse than he was, that there was too much blood leaking from his head, from his side, his legs. But despite the fact that Mike probably couldn't actually see very well, Harvey had to protect him. He wrapped a rough hand around Mike's head until it was covering his eyes, and he leaned into the blond mess of hair, ignoring the sticky feeling of congealing blood.
Mike tried to move away, to see into the horrid place where the man who'd cause this destruction was scattered across the rubble. Mike had been trying to stop him, to beg him not to do this, but the vindictive man was beyond reason. Harvey could still see Mike's surprised face as the room lit up in bright orange flames behind him.
Mike let out another moan and writhed weakly against Harvey's chest.
"Shh, Mike. It's okay. It'll be okay," Harvey soothed, trying to convince both Mike and himself that this wouldn't scar them. Next to him, he felt Mike inhale a shaky breath and it released as a wracking sob.
Harvey's hand slid slightly from its place on Mike's face, slicked by blood and the tears now leaking steadily from Mike's eyes. Harvey wrapped his other arm around Mike's shaking form and clutched him desperately, like if he just held on tight enough, he could squeeze all the sadness, all the fear, the pain, everything bad from Mike forever.
He didn't know how long they sat there. It felt like an eternity before anyone came for them. And Harvey wondered if he'd ever forget the feeling of Mike, sobbing and dying in his arms.