Disclaimer: I don't own Suits or the characters.
Summary: There's a guy in the office with a gun. He's looking for Harvey. He finds Mike instead.
…
Mike set the highlighter down on his desk, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He'd been up all night trying to find something for Harvey's case, and he finally did.
He looked at the time. Sighing, he stood up, setting off towards Harvey's office to drop off the files. It was a quarter to noon and Harvey's meeting would be over soon. Mike had no doubt that as soon as he got out, he's be coming to Mike to make sure they had a way to win the case.
Thinking about leaving the files with Donna, he quickly changed his mind when he saw her on the phone, jotting down notes, and on the computer.
Mike gestured to the files, then into Harvey's office after giving a small smile to Donna. She nodded her approval before raising her eyebrow to whatever the person on the other end of the line said.
"I said he's in a meeting, so you can wait on hold or come in yourself." Donna pressed a few buttons on the phone.
Mike grinned as he sauntered into the office, eyes gracing over the familiarity of the signed basketballs along one wall, the records on shelves along another, and the walls of glass looking over the city.
Walking behind Harvey's desk, Mike plopped the files on the center of his desk.
Bang!
Mike's head shot up. That sounded really similar to a gunshot.
Bang! Bang!
"Mike!" Donna hissed, already ducking for cover behind her desk.
Mike dropped down, head bent as he went on his hands and knees.
He peered around the corner of the desk, keeping an eye on Donna.
He couldn't help but have his mind wander. Who was shot? Were they just for show? Is Harvey okay? What about Rachel?
He took a deep breath. Those weren't good thoughts right now.
Footsteps came closer, he could hear them. He held his breath, watching as Donna tried to shrink further.
"You. Harvey's secretary, right? Donna Paulson?"
Mike leaned forward more, keeping an eye on Donna as she slowly stood, arms raised. His mind was racing. He had to do something.
"That's right."
"Harvey. Where is he?"
"You're stupider than you look if you think I'll tell you." Her eyes hardened.
He shoved his gun forwards, Donna resisting the urge to flinch.
"He ruined my brother's life!" the man shouted, clenching the gun in his hand.
Mike hesitated. Ruined his brother's life. So he may have never met Harvey? Oh, he had a really bad idea forming.
"I have a feeling your brother did that all by himself." Donna realized these might not be the things to say to get out of this, but she's Donna, so she has to say it.
The man growled, his teeth showing.
Mike stood up, slowly making his way to the doorway. The second the man saw him, the gun was shoved in his direction.
"Who are you? You're Harvey Specter?"
"I am," Mike said, ignoring the looks Donna sent him.
"You ruined my brother's life, you scum!"
"You heard her," Mike said, trying to think of something Harvey would say, "you're brother did that by himself."
"You - you!"
Bang!
Mike gasped as he was thrown back.
Wrong thing to say, Mike.
He couldn't breathe. Trying to take in air, he ignored everything else. The man could come and shoot him again, but at the moment he'd be okay with that. A searing pain burned through his chest. He choked.
I guess this is it…
…
Harvey hated waiting.
One moment, he was in the meeting room with the board members discussing boring crap, the next gunshots were echoing and he was forced to duck down and wait for the police to get here.
His people were out there. Mike and Donna coming to the forefront of his mind.
When the police finally got to their hiding spot, he relished stretching his legs, but immediately went up to the nearest officer. "What's going on out there?"
"Sir, we'll let you know when we do."
"You sure as hell know something, so spit it out." Harvey glared at the man.
The officer hesitated. "One dead, three injured in the firm that we've found so far. We've got one shooter, but don't know if there's more. We're trying to get the injured out to the paramedics."
"Who are they? The injured?"
"Peter Lispen died. Anna Criswell was shot in the stomach, Donna Paulson in the arm, and-"
Harvey's head snapped up. "Donna?"
The man nodded. "It's not serious, just a flesh wound. We've got an officer with her and the other guy. They'll be getting out soon."
Harvey's heart was beating fast.
"She's taking care of the last injured. A guy named Harvey Specter."
He noticed Jessica glancing over to him, as if making sure he was in front of her.
"I'm Harvey Specter."
Another officer butted in. "The guy was in your office, Donna said his name was Mike. He's in critical condition, shot in the lungs-"
Harvey was already out the door, ignoring the whispered shouts for him to stay put. The two closest people in his life were injured, no way he's staying there.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he ran around the corner and saw his office.
Blood stained the doorway. Donna had part of her jacket wrapped around her arm, the rest on an unmoving body. An officer crouched next to them.
"Donna," he said, approaching.
The officer turned, pointing his gun until Donna pushed it down. "Harvey, thank God. It's Mike, he…"
Harvey dropped to the other side of him, glancing at the blood-soaked jacket on his chest, the blood dotting his lips, then the slivers opening to show his blue eyes, glazed over and struggling to focus.
"Har-Harvey-" Mike coughed before gasping, trying to get in some precious oxygen.
"Hey, don't talk, kiddo. Just keep your eyes open, okay?" Harvey resisted the urge to puke. This didn't happen. They weren't cops. They weren't supposed to be shot and dying.
Harvey glanced up at a commotion and saw a pair of paramedics rushing towards them. He looked down again when he felt Mike's weak hand grip the lapels of his suit. He didn't even think about the blood ruining it.
Mike's eyes sought out his, making a connection once more, before his hand went limp and his body relaxed. His wheezing gasps stopped, but his eyes remained open, staring into Harvey's.
He didn't remember much after that. He knew the paramedics got there, shoving him out of the way. He didn't mind. They were saving his brother's life.
"Harvey!"
He blinked, coming out of his haze as Donna called his name. He glanced around, then realized Mike wasn't there. He panicked for a moment until he remembered that dead bodies don't disappear. The paramedics brought him back.
"They took him already. He'll be at the hospital."
…
Six and a half hours they waited in the plastic chairs, drinking the awful coffee and listening to coughs from other patients and hoping the next doctor that came out would be for them.
…
Harvey sat next to Mike. The kid looked so small. Hooked up to all kinds of machines.
The first ten days, Mike couldn't even breathe on his own, he needed a ventilator. That killed Harvey a little on the inside. Especially when Donna told him the story of how Mike got shot.
This was his fault. Mike could die. He should be the one near-death. He ruined that guy's brother's life. But he wished the shooter wasn't dead, because he wanted to get his hands on him.
It had been six weeks now, and Harvey was beyond ready for Mike to wake up out of the coma the doctors said he was in.
"H-Ha-"
Coughing interrupted his thoughts. He snapped his head up, looking into the blue eyes of his brother for the first time in a month and a half.
He couldn't help but grin. "Don't talk yet. Here, have some water. Careful."
Sitting back, he watched as Mike laid back down and looked around at his surroundings.
"What happened?"
Harvey hesitated a moment. "There was a guy that came in the office. He had a gun."
Realization struck Mike and he nodded, cutting off Harvey.
"So you remember?" Harvey asked, eyes evaluating.
Mike nodded.
"Good. Then this is a perfect time to yell at you."
Mike frowned. "Why? I got shot- oh, Donna told you."
Harvey nodded his head grimly. "Yeah, Donna told me. Listen up, if there's a guy with a gun, you don't stand up and say you're the guy he's looking to kill. It's common sense."
Shrugging, Mike said, "I figured that was one of the hundred and forty-six options."
"It's not. At least not for you, until you learn to talk down the guy with the gun."
"So you're saying you would have done the same thing."
"It's not the same thing."
"But it is - hey! You wouldn't hit someone in a hospital?"
"No, but when you get out, watch out."