CLOSURE

They all wondered how it came to this.

Jessica Pearson knows how to handle her shit, and everyone knows it. She's the boss; showing no fear - more like striking it into the hearts of her employees – a job she shares with Louis. Showing no weakness, Mike Ross will freely admit that she terrifies the hell out of him.

When it comes to fears, most people stay as far away as possible from theirs. Luckily for Mike, their paths didn't cross very often, and only (barely) did when it concerned Harvey. They definitely weren't enemies, but they sure as hell weren't friends.

Donna Paulsen was different. To Mike, she was the female version of a perfect Harvey – albeit snarkier, sassier, and less arrogant – even if she was still condescending towards him and his beloved skinny ties. Mike had always thought he could've had a chance with her (in a perfect world), if Harvey hadn't made it abundantly clear that he had no chance, (and if Donna hadn't done the same.)

Mike remembers when Louis almost stole him from Harvey, all of it, every minute detail, because of his gift, that was now turning into a curse. His memory.

He remembers (because he can't forget) that he had actually considered Louis' offer (Harvey had said he was done with Mike) because Louis actually appreciated him. Harvey was cold and unwavering that day, and Mike remembered hating him for it.

Mike shook his head, trying to clear the fog.

Mike loves (no, Mike loved) Harvey with all his heart, and even told him so once. Of course, Harvey being Harvey laughed it off. It hurt, but Mike liked to think he only told Harvey so he would know, not to hear it back. And he'd entertain that thought, so long as it eased the pain.

Now though, considering Jessica didn't hug, Donna doesn't cry, and neither of them are ever seen in public as anything other than dignified, Mike feels like he doesn't belong here. It's too personal, seeing Jessica sob in a heap of hopelessness, watching Louis stare stoically into nothingness, hearing Donna's screams (echo, echo, echoing) inside his head.

Harvey was cold that day, and Mike remembers hating him for it. But Mike can't bring himself to hate Harvey for this. At least back then, Harvey was just detached, and not... dead.

So, as they ("Family of Harvey Specter?") sit in shock, dressed to the nines in a room of peeling paint-chips and cheap plastic chairs, Mike paces. It's the only thing to stop him from going crazy. He sips at his Styrofoam cup. He pauses and thinks, he can't help it. His head's spinning and his brain's in overdrive.

He hears the doctor's voice (Gunshot wound, self-inflicted..."), Donna screaming; sees Harvey's body and he's back in that room and he's panicking, ("No, Harvey, please! ...you can't do this..."). The doctor's again ("...dead on arrival, I'm sorry..."), before he's overwhelmed and collapses on a nearby chair.

Mike Ross doesn't cry. Harvey maybe gone, but Mike's still a reflection of him. So, Mike does what he thinks Harvey would have done. He raises his cheap coffee slightly, (Harvey would have insulted his poor taste), in a silent salute to his dead boss, mentor... friend (even if Mike loves Harvey with all his heart.)

Mike blames himself.

Louis blames himself.

Jessica blames herself, and so does Donna.

Pearson-Specter will mourn the loss a named partner, and the best damn closer the city had ever seen. They'll all wonder how it came down to this.

The following chapters are Harvey's suicide notes to Jessica, Mike, Donna, and Louis.