Hi! The premise of this fic is fairly simple - it's not a de-aging story, but Mike's thirteen at the beginning (I've left Harvey alone, assume around season 1 age) and it's just going to follow them meeting and the events that succeed that in this AU. This chapter is mainly exposition and I get that the ideas are a little preposterous and unrealistic, but just roll with it, it'll get better (I hope). I'm not that pleased with it but it was incredibly fun to write.

Also please don't think I'm claiming the idea of a Harvey/Mike paternal set up to be my own - I know it's been done many times before, but there's just something so enticing and exciting about writing a young Mike and Harvey fic. If you do feel that this is an uninteresting facsimile of the many stories of this nature that are dotted around the internet, please, do tell me and I'll take it down or edit it or something.

All that aside, I really do hope you enjoy! This is my first crack at a Suits fic, and it hasn't been beta'd, so apologies for any errors and reviews are always hugely appreciated! Thanks!

Mike Ross burst through the first door he saw at the base of the staircase, slamming it with a clatter behind him. Chest heaving, he leant heavily against the closed door, eyes screwed shut, desperately trying to get his breath back. It was only after a minute that he opened his eyes to take inventory of his surroundings and saw the sharply dressed business man with immaculately coiffed hair staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

Mike gave a start and looked around the room for an escape route. Noting a door a few metres to his left, he gave a quick 'Um, hi. I'll just be leaving now' and headed towards the exit.

'Not so fast, kid,' the older man said, lunging for Mike's arm and missing, grasping the strap of the rucksack slung loosely over his shoulder. It had the desired effect of slowing the boy's progress, but also the quite unexpected result of tearing open the zip of the bag, spilling small packets of weed over the floor of the office.

'What's this?' the businessman said, his composure faltering for the first time since his surprise guest had arrived. Mike could see the evident shock written across his face, and his heart sank at the idea that he was already disappointing a man he had known for less than four minutes.

'Um, herbs?' Mike tried, almost able to see the humour in how pathetic his lie was, 'for my home economics class?'

The man quirked his eyebrow once again.

'I may be a lot of things, kid, but I'm not clueless. Go on, sit. Explain.'

Mike was not stupid. He knew the man was giving him an order and saw no other way out of the situation than to follow it. Depositing himself in the ornate cushioned chair opposite the man's desk, he allowed himself a small frown at what seemed to be a recurring and annoying epithet, 'kid'.

'I'm not really sure where to start, sir,' Mike said in a small voice.

'How about you start with your name,' the man replied, 'and drop the 'sir', I don't need to feel any older than I already am. You can call me Harvey.'

'It's Mike… Michael Ross,' replied Mike, stopping there. It was beginning to dawn on him that being found in possession of a considerable amount of narcotics was perhaps not the easiest position to explain. It seemed, however, that Harvey was unsympathetic, and he pushed the boy further for an answer.

'So, Michael Ross… why the hell have you got $25,000 worth of pot stashed in your quaint little school bag here? Come on, kid, how did you get involved in this kind of thing? You can't be more than eleven,' the man said.

'Thirteen,' Mike answered, glaring at Harvey, 'and you can quit calling me 'kid', I'm a teenager.'

The older man gave a laugh, 'Oh, so the 'teenager''s finally speaking up? Perhaps you could drop the goddamn attitude and use this newfound voice to give me a valid explanation for your situation, and,' he tapped the cell phone resting on his desk, 'if I don't hear one good reason in the next two minutes I'm calling the cops.'

The final threat left lingering in the air stirred Mike into action. Maybe there was something about the man was compelling him to tell the truth, or perhaps by that point he just didn't have the energy to fabricate a story, but Mike decided not to lie to Harvey.

'It's not really how it looks,' Mike started, shaking his head at Harvey's disbelieving snort, 'I mean, yeah, I do have a load of weed, and I am carrying it to someone, but I swear, I'm not a bad person, Harvey. I'm not like other kids that choose this, it just kinda happens that life woke up one morning and decided to dump a whole load of shit on me.'

'Watch your language, kid,' Harvey interjected.

'I'm not a child,' Mike said, frustrated.

Harvey frowned at the boy's tone, 'Carry on. Remember, you're on thin ice, Mike.'

Mike mumbled an apology and continued, 'it was my Grammy. She's been picking up odd jobs as a cleaner to support us for the last few years since my… since I lost my parents, but last week she fell of a ladder and broke her femur in two places and tore her anterior cruciate ligament and I just… the hospital asked for $30,000 and we just don't have that kind of money, Harvey, and I didn't know what to do and my friend Trevor hooked me up with some dealers he knew and it all sorta fell into place and I'm really sorry, Harvey, I really am, I didn't mean to come into your room, I just want my Grammy to get better and for everything to go back to normal and…'

'Mike.'

Harvey's voice made Mike suddenly aware of where he was and who he was talking to and embarrassment flushed red in his cheeks. He swiped furiously at the tears that were threatening to spill and mumbled an apology. It struck him how much he had unintentionally told the businessman in his rambling and he fixed his eyes on the floor in shame.

'Mike,' Harvey tried again, 'look at me.'

Harvey had thought himself immune to emotional spiel. Years as a commercial lawyer had exposed him to countless sobbing opposition members spewing sappy bullshit that he could easily see through, and yet something about the kid made him really want to believe his story. It wasn't him caring though. Harvey Specter did not do 'caring'.

He found it hard to maintain this internal bravado when the kid raised his large blue eyes to meet Harvey's own. The boy had the look of a lost puppy down to a T and it made Harvey want to do everything he could to make everything alright to him.

Shaking off the sickening paternal instincts that seemed to be overwhelming him, he assumed his cool lawyer head and said, 'Right, Mike, you and I are going to take a ride to your grandmother's and see what we can work out. First, though, we're gonna sort out a few things. Right now, you're going to hand over all of that weed to me. I'm going to find a way to dispose of it safely, okay?'

Apparently shocked that Harvey wasn't biting his head off, Mike grabbed the bags that had fallen to the floor and slid the rest out of his bag, handing them all over to Harvey who slipped them into the inner pocket of his briefcase.

'Okay, next step…'

Harvey was interrupted as two men clattered into the room, one waving a police badge and the other with his hand resting on what looked like a holster. Mike jumped, the colour draining from his face at the sight of the two plain-clothes officers, but Harvey remained still and stony-faced.

'Who the hell do you think you are?' he asked, not making any effort to disguise the animosity in his voice.

'The NYPD, that's who,' one of the men said, 'now hand over the bag, son.'

'I'm sorry?' Harvey questioned coolly, 'You want to see my son's school bag for what reason?'

The elder of the two cops, sporting an impressive beer gut and a receding hairline, gave a guttural laugh, saying 'You see this, George? The suit's trying to pass of the kid as his own to make it look like this ain't a drug deal.'

'You're right, Arch,' The blond younger cop, George, said, turning to Harvey, 'come on, man, the boy's nothing more than your supplier. Quite frankly I doubt you even know his name. Now hand over the bag.'

Harvey moved around to the front of his desk, placing a firm hand on Mike's shoulder and drawing the boy closer in to his body. 'Michael here is handing over nothing. Listen here, gentlemen, Archie, is it? And George? I'm a fair man, so I'm going to give you two options. Number one: leave this room now and don't look back. Number two: carry on harassing my son. I swear I will dig up every dirty deal and clandestine trade you've ever done and drag you through the mud in front of a judge until you're wishing that you never met me… I guess at least you'd have the chance to sit opposite New York's finest lawyer in court. Now step away from my son.'

Mike couldn't help but be pretty impressed. Both of the cops were looking considerably cowed and the younger seemed to be directing a pleading look at the elder.

'The man's not kidding, Arch' George said, gesturing at Harvey's desk, 'you see that nameplate? He's Harvey Specter.'

'So?' Archie threw back.

'Don't you remember the Rustenforth case? Mr Specter's the reason that ex-DCI Diggins is sitting at home crying into some chicken wings about his divorce instead of working on this case. We better leave, bro,' the younger officer warned.

'Can it, George,' the elder shot back, despite the hint of fear that ghosted across his face at the news, 'we're on the brink of uncovering a major drug operation and you want to leave it 'cause you're scared of some sleazy suit.'

Harvey was disliking the two men more with every word, and, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, he said to Mike, 'Prove it, son, show them your bag, please.'

Mike handed over his backpack to the blond man, who opened it and had a thorough search, eventually raising his head and saying, 'they're telling the truth, Arch. It's clean.'

The older cop frowned and snatched the bag from George. He rooted around for a moment, his frown only deepening, until his expression suddenly twisted into a gleeful grin.

'What's this, eh?' He said, drawing out a battered schoolbook, 'the name here says 'Mike Ross'. Thought you were Harvey Specter. Come to think of it, your 'son' here doesn't look an awful lot like you.'

Harvey released Mike's shoulder, squaring up to the cop with a dangerous look on his face.

'Foster son, gentleman,' Harvey ground out, 'it's 2017, goddammit, you don't have to share blood to call someone family. Mike's mine.' He leant over to Mike, giving him a smile and ruffling his hair, 'now get the hell out.'

'We've got nothing on the kid, Arch, let's go,' the younger cop almost whispered, his fear palpable.

Archie squinted, his face only a few inches from Harvey's own. A tense silence filled the room, each man anticipating the next move of the others.

'Right you are, George,' he said, finally, 'see you around Mr Specter, Mr Ross.'

Harvey didn't give the cops the courtesy of an acknowledging nod as they withdrew from the office.

'Donna,' he shouted after them, 'I'm going to have to rearrange the rest of these interviews.'

'Already done, Harvey,' a light female voice called back, 'Ray's waiting outside. I know, I'm an angel.'

Mike watched in astonishment as the lawyer shook his head fondly. He was still digesting the events of the last few minutes, and barely registered Harvey calling his name until he received a gentle cuff over the back of his head.

'Pull it together, Mike, we need to get going,' the older man said.

'Okay, I mean, I just… Harvey, thank you so much for…'

'Save it, kid,' Harvey cut in, 'don't doubt for one second that those wretches won't be on your case again within the week. They can smell victory on whatever case they're working and once a dog catches a scent, it doesn't give up chase. Let's head to your grandmother's.'

Silenced yet left with much to think about, Mike grabbed the bag that had been the source of so many of his troubles and followed Harvey out of the hotel and down to a very swanky car.

The car ride to his grandmother's was strange and silent. Mike had so many questions that he wanted to ask Harvey, and yet the events of the evening had left him exhausted, so he simply rested his forehead against the cold glass of the car window and watched the flickering lights of New York City pass by.

As they drove on into shabbier and more dilapidated neighbourhoods, Mike got more and more self-conscious. He glanced at Harvey, who was gazing curiously out of his own window, and noted how incongruous the Tom Ford suit appeared in the neighbourhood that Mike had grown up in. He was suddenly very aware of the shortcomings of his upbringing, and realised he really didn't want to expose them to someone as complete and flawless as Harvey Specter. Just thinking of it made him feel vulnerable and inadequate.

A quiet 'We're here, sir,' from the front brought him out of his reverie.

'Thank you, Ray,' Harvey answered, climbing out of the car, 'with me, Mike.'

They walked in an almost companionable silence up the worn staircase of Mike's block of flats. When they reached Mike and his Grammy's, he gave a soft knock before pushing open the front door and entering the warmly lit apartment.

'Hiya Grammy,' he said in a hushed voice

'Michael James Ross,' came the warm yet disapproving response from the armchair in the centre of the cosily furnished living room, 'where in God's name have you bee… oh, Michael,' she said, spotting Harvey, 'you should have warned me that you were going to bring a charming young man home, I would have made an effort,'

'You look just fine, Grammy,' Mike smiled, welcoming the proffered embrace. Harvey didn't fail to note the care taken by the boy to avoid jogging the woman's injured leg, nor the easy happiness he seemed to fall into in the presence of his grandmother. 'This is Harvey Specter.'

Harvey reached out a hand to shake, and was surprised at the firmness of the grip that he received.

'Pleased to meet you, Mrs Ross,' he said, giving a well-practised charming smile.

'Oh please, it's Edith,' Edith replied, 'would you care to explain what you were doing with Michael?'

'Ah yes, well, your grandson, he…' Harvey paused at the extreme puppy dog eyes Mike was shooting him. It suddenly occurred to him what should have been blatantly obvious; Mike's Grammy had no idea what he had been up to. 'He got himself in a little trouble with the police and ended up in my office. It's nothing I can't rectify, but there are still some issues.'

'Michael,' Edith said, fixing the aforementioned boy with a piercing glare, 'what did you do?'

Mike, blatantly squirming under the penetrating gaze, searched fruitlessly for an explanation that wouldn't result in imminent death-by-grandmother. Harvey saw his struggle and felt a pang of sympathy for the boy; it was becoming clearer and clearer that he was really just a good kid in a bad situation.

'I assure you, Edith, I will be able to sort this,' Harvey said, 'but there're still a few issues.'

Edith raised an eyebrow. 'Go on.'

'To get the cops off his tail, I had to imply he was my son. It was pretty clear that they doubted it, but it put them off for the mean time. I've had experience with their type before, though, and they don't give up. They're going to dig around as soon as they get back to the station and it won't take them a second to realise Mike's not my boy.'

Edith frowned, processing the information. 'When you say that you 'implied', Mr Specter…'

'I mean heavily implied, Edith, and please, it's Harvey,' Harvey replied, 'I know what you're asking, but there's no way I can twist it to make it seem like it's all a misinterpretation. And Mike's looking at seeing nothing but the walls of a cell until he's well into adulthood unless we do something about this. I can't say how sorry I am for putting him in this position Edith, if-'

The elderly woman looked horrified, and cut in with a tone that made Harvey feel very much like a chastised child. 'Don't you apologise, young man, you've done nothing of the sort. Michael is a big boy and is perfectly capable of making his own decisions,' she said, ignoring Mike's growing blush, 'this is his fault.'

'Grammy, I…' Mike tried.

Edith pinned him with a glare that halted his words. The boy flushed and directed his gaze at the floor.

'This is on you, Michael,' she continued, 'I'm not going to ask what you did, because, quite frankly, I don't want to know. You better do whatever this gentleman tells you to do, do you hear me?'

'Yes, Grammy,' Mike mumbled.

'Good,' she said, turning to Harvey again, 'now, Harvey, please do put us out of our misery. What can we do to make this go away?'

'Well, a difficult situation warrants a difficult solution,' Harvey said, 'and I'm sorry about that. The only way I can see out of this is if…'

He couldn't quite bring himself to finish the sentence. At the start of the day, he would never have imagined that what should have been simple interviews for the associate position would end in the proposition he was about to put forward to a boy he had known for all of two hours and his ailing grandmother, and yet here he was. He glanced at Mike. The boy was looking at him in nervous expectation, his pallor drained of colour and a confused frown creasing his forehead. Poor kid's terrified, Harvey thought. Goddammit, Specter, spit it out, don't be a wuss.

'I think Mike should come and stay with me for a while, until all this settles down,' he said finally, 'it's not going to take awful long for the cops to come knocking, and if my 'son' lives on the other side of town it'd look a little suspicious. It'd be best to construct an image that mirrors as closely as possibly the spiel I fed them today.'

Having said all he had to say, Harvey looked at the two Rosses, trying to gauge their reactions. Mike was wearing an unreadable expression that worried Harvey, but to his surprise, a small smile broke out on Edith Ross' face.

'Thank you, Mr Specter,' she said warmly, 'I know this won't be easy for any of us, but perhaps it has come as a blessing in disguise. My leg is healing poorly and I'm not going to pretend I have the financial capability to properly look after both Mike and myself.'

'But Grammy,' Mike interjected, his voice bordering on a shout, 'this isn't fair.'

'You know what isn't fair, Michael?' his grandmother replied, her voice carrying a sharp edge, 'putting us in the position in the first place. You've lost your right to have a say in what happens. Now go and get your stuff together, please.'

Mike gave a frustrated huff but made no further objection. Instead, he stormed out of the room, making sure every step was heard and slamming the door a little too hard to show Harvey and his Grammy just how angry he was.

Edith gave a small tut and said, 'he'll come round eventually. I really can't impress upon you the size of my gratitude. I can't imagine taking in a teenage boy is an exciting prospect for you, and yet you offered to do it. Please, though, do good by him. He needs guidance – I'm a 78 year-old woman, I can't give him that, Mr Specter, but you can. He hasn't had a male figure in his life since his parents died nearly three years ago.'

Harvey, unusually, was at loss for words. He decided to swerve the emotional, and said, 'There's no need for formality, really, it's Harvey.'

Edith gave a small smile, recognising the man's skilled avoidance of softer matters. She watched as he pulled a small notebook from an inner jacket pocket. He scribbled something down and tore out the page, which he handed over to her. It was an email address.

'That's mine,' Harvey said, 'you're going to forward me any bills you get, for rent or medical care or whatever. I'm also going to organise regular visits from a professional carer for the indefinite future.'

'Goodness, Harvey, I couldn't possibly take a gift such as this,' Edith said, 'I can say that I'll rest easier, though, knowing that Michael is being taken in by a caring man like you.'

Harvey balked at the word 'caring'. 'It's not a gift, it's a condition of me having Mike. He needs you to be healthy and safe for him to be happy, and I'm not looking after a stroppy teenager,' he said, 'it's not caring, it's protecting my needs.'

'Of course, Harvey,' Edith said, an amused glint in her eye. There was a small creak from the doorway, and both of them looked up to see Mike standing there with the infamous school bag slung over his shoulder and a worn duffel bag in his hand. It seemed that packing had given him time to calm down, and he appeared much more contrite as he leant against the door jamb.

'I'm ready,' he said. Harvey could have laughed, were the situation any different; the boy was emanating more misery at the idea of living with him than what would've been appropriate at a funeral.

'Michael,' Edith said, her voice much softer than when addressing him before, 'you're a bright boy, you know I'm only doing what I think is best for you.'

Mike gave a glum nod, eyes remaining downcast.

'I'm am sorry,' she said, a small frown appearing, 'it's awful selfish, I know, but I just don't want to see you in prison. Stay out of trouble and keep in mind that Harvey's in charge. Don't forget about me, though, I need all the company I can get at my age. Come and visit every day, if you want to!'

Between Edith's forced positivity and the fact that Mike's set jaw was failing to disguise his trembling lower lip and the tears beginning to well, Harvey could see both Rosses were on the verge of an emotional breakdown and he was by no means equipped to deal with that.

'I'll be just outside, Mike,' he said, stepping past the boy, 'say goodbye to your Grammy. Ray's waiting downstairs, so be quick.'

Mike followed him out a minute later, bags in hand and swiping at a few stray tears. The car ride was just as strange and silent as the previous one, yet the Mike's thoughts were anything but quiet. He didn't dislike Harvey, and he realised he had perhaps misjudged him after he walked in on him offering to pay his Grammy's bills, but his heart still sank when he remembered he was going to be living away from her with a man who was essentially a stranger.

Harvey's mind was far from calm, either. The tumult of emotion he was feeling was far from his standard equanimity, and he wasn't quite sure how to behave. He knew that the kid must be feeling ten times what he was, and he knew that he should offer some words of comfort, but he wasn't sure if he would be able to speak without betraying how unsure he was. Mike needed certainty and confidence, and Harvey could provide neither of those right now. He elected instead to rest his head against the seat's headrest and close his eyes in the hope that sleep would clear his mind and by the time that they arrived at his apartment, his composure would have returned to him.