Infliction, a suits fanfic

I don't even know where this came from, I was just in a weird place trying to get a new 'Fire and Ice' chapter written and this popped up.

Warnings for self harm, discussion of self harm and recover/relapse/recovery.

All mistakes are my own.

Harvey knows now that there are indicators that he should have seen, little things he should have noticed. There are movements, expressions, single little words that Mike uses when he's quietly screaming for help in his head and trying to keep his cool on the outside.

Harvey knows now, and he watches for them like a hawk. Just like these days; he doesn't involve Mike in cases that involve drunk drivers, or say careless things like 'you're all on your own for this one' or 'not good enough'. He knows now, Mike's triggers and Mike's indicators. Harvey knows how to avoid them, or to talk him down if it's too late. Knows how to clean, bandage, sterilise and talk through once the process is done with if he can't talk him down in time. If he, or Donna, aren't around to do it.

He knows now all the things he wished he'd known three months ago.

"I need you to take this pro-bono case for me." Harvey says as he drops the file onto Mike's desk. His associate gives him a wide grin, grabbing at the new file despite the piles of them already existing on his desk.

"Oh, what is it?" Harvey doesn't answer because the kid is already flicking through the file excitedly. He watches as he turns page after page, and frowns as Mike slows, pauses, pales as he reads. He can see the tremors in his hands. Mike looks like he is about to tell him no, tell him he can't take this one. Instead, he gives Harvey an unconvincing smile and tells him he will get right on with that. There is a moment where he considers asking what's going on, but, well, Harvey Specter has a reputation to uphold. Mike can deal with one emotional case of a young girl left orphaned after a drunk driver hit their car. Of course he can, Mike loves all this emotional let-me-help-you crap. And any case is a case you need under your belt as a fake first year associate.

Harvey doesn't see the kid for another day, until he shuffles in looking exhausted and worried.

"You're late." Harvey tells him, glancing at his watch. It's only ten past seven, but scolding Mike like a child is what he does everyday. A little sleep loss on his associates part doesn't change daily traditions.

"M'sorry." Mike mumbles in reply. He's nibbling on his bottom lip, one hand clutching a file so tightly his knuckles are white, the other is brushing lightly over his hip slowly. Harvey sighs, throwing the kid an annoyed glance.

"So?" Mike looks confused for a moment until Harvey nods at the file still clutched dangerously tight in Mike's hand.

"Oh, yeah. Right." Mike looks down at the manila file in his hand, scowls at it like it's causing him physical pain.

"I- the girl- Amelia. Her aunt wants to file for adoption but the grandmother won't give up the parental rights as proposed in the will. Amelia- the girl- she.. her aunt. She wants her aunt. Can you help me start the adoption forms?" Harvey scoffs at him, going back to flicking through his own file.

"Sorry kiddo. You gotta learn this stuff sometime. You're on your own for this one." Harvey isn't paying attention to Mike, so he misses the way the kid shivers, the way his face gets even more pale, if that was possible. He does catch Donna calling after Mike when he high-tails it out of his office though, and glances up to see Mike turn and head towards the bathroom quickly, and Donna shooting him a 'what the hell?' glare. He just shrugs and goes back to his own work, the kid actually needs to learn how to be a real lawyer at some point, and that means letting him figure things out on his own. Harvey isn't worried.

Harvey is slightly worried when the he disappears at lunch and doesn't return until gone three in the afternoon. Mike doesn't usually leave the office without telling anyone where he is going, and the pro-bono was all in office work at the moment given he spoke to everyone involved yesterday. He calls Mike's cell, and has Donna do the same. Calls around some of the bars, coffee shops and restaurants Mike usually frequents. Even puts in a call to Jenny and Rachel, for all the good it does him, but no one has seen him.

Mike finally rolls in at quarter past three, looking pale, dishevelled and shaken. It's enough to make Harvey go easy on him, until he hands him what are supposed to be finished forms for the adoption case and CPS. They are not finished, and what is filled out is badly wrong and almost illegible.

"The hell is this?" Harvey demands, throwing the file onto his desk and sitting against the edge of it. Mike flinches, hands reaching down to press into his thighs, rubbing harshly at the material against his leg until he winces.

"The adoption papers?" His associate replies timidly, shaking slightly, one hand now navigating up to his hip. If anything, the incessant rubbing is getting Harvey even more annoyed.

"They aren't finished, and what is done is wrong and a pre-schooler could write better than that. Do them again, and get them right. I don't know what's going on with you, but this is not good enough." Harvey picks up the folder again, throwing it harshly at Mike who almost fumbles the catch and whimpers when the corner pulls up some shirt that isn't tucked into his pants properly. He tugs it down quickly, but a flash of harsh red against Mike's pale skin, soaking a little through into his shirt catches his attention. He's about to say something to his frozen associate but the kid turns tail and runs, heading out quickly. Harvey is about two steps closer to the door of his office when Mike turns a corner and the door to the stairwell slams open and then shut again.

"That's twice in one day he's ran out of your office." Donna comments as she steps into the room, looking somewhere between concerned and angry. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Harvey splutters indignantly. "He messed up some paperwork on the pro-bono case i handed him and i told him to fix it." Donna's face dropped as she stared at him, open mouthed. Her eyes clouding more into anger than concern as she takes a step towards him.

"The pro-bono that Jessica handed to you and told you specifically not to hand off to Mike?" Her voice is calm and cold, more terrifying than the red hot anger he is used to seeing her display with others.

"Yeah, drunk driver kills two parents in an accident. The aunt of the surviving child wants to adopt against the grandmothers wishes. Mike can handle that emotional bleeding heart stuff."

"You idiot." Donna hisses at him, jabbing his chest with her finger. "You inconsiderate, unobservant bastard." Harvey looked at her like she'd gone crazy, taking a step away from the finger digging through his shirt and into his skin.

"What did i do?" He sighs out incredulously, hands thrown in the air as Donna pins him with another look.

"I know he told you the story of what happened to his parents."

"Yeah. So wh- oh..Oh shit." Donna nods, scowl firmly in place. "Where did he go? Which way?" He demands and she shrugs in response.

"I'll call security, see if they can see where he went." Harvey nods, sliding his phone out of his pocket even though he knows calling Mike will be redundant. It's a miracle if the kid has his phone on him on the best of days.

He's not entirely sure how he could be so idiotic, how he could forget such a vital part of Mike's life and then thrust this case upon him and ignore the obvious, glaring consequences of his actions. Looking back on the past two days, Mike's shifty, terrified, weak behaviour made so much more sense. The pale, shaking hands of his associate should have been enough to clue him in on something being wrong without him having to even look up at his face.

"Security says the last they saw him he was getting in a cab outside the building. He's probably heading home." Donna tacks on the last piece as more of a suggestion than an observation, a subtle tilt of her head telling him to go find their boy.

"Ray's downstairs and i'm cancelling the rest of today's appointments." She calls after him as he disappears towards the elevators. He just gives her a wave behind him in acknowledgement, trying to ignore the curling knot of worry currently growing in his stomach.

Mike's apartment, now that he had the one in Manhattan that was meant to be for his grandmother, took very little time for Ray to pull up outside of.

"Let Mr. Ross know i hope he will be alright." Ray tells him with a tip of his hat as he climbs back into the car. Harvey gives him a nod in response, heading in to the much nicer entrance than Mike's old building. He could only hope Mike was actually here and hadn't headed anywhere else.

That Mike was in his apartment was confirmed by the fact that his door was slightly open when Harvey reached the first floor hallway. As he pushed the door wider, he could see Mike's clothes draping a trail through to where he assumed Mike's bedroom and bathroom where, scattered like he had torn them off and thrown them in his haste. The sound of a shower echoed through the apartment, followed by the hollow sound of someone muffling their sobbing and quiet screams. Harvey didn't want to follow them, but the knot in his stomach and the growing sense of unease and big-brotherly concern pushed him through the rooms, following the path of clothing destruction and to the shut door of a bathroom. The shower was hot enough to be leaking steam out from under that door, and as Harvey pushed it open slowly he was hit with a wall of heat and the harsher sounds of Mike sobbing uncontrollably.

The longer the door was open, the more the steam evaporated and left Harvey with a view of his associate. Naked apart from his boxers, which were rucked up high anyway, slumped against the wall with something in his hand. There was an expanse of pale, shivering skin. Harvey focused in though, on the pink-red streams flowing from...everywhere and down into the water, washed away into the drains. He focused on the way that Mike, apparently not aware that Harvey was even in the room, began to scream into a hand raised to cover his face as he brought whatever was in his other hand down against his thigh.

Harvey had enough sense to figure out that Mike did not want to be doing that, rushing across the room and into the shower, regardless of the $3000 suit he was wearing, to grab Mike's hand in a tight grip. His associate stumbled, obviously startled by Harvey's sudden appearance, enough to let go of whatever it was in his hand so that Harvey could grab it and throw it across the room before Mike could do more damage.

Because the closer Harvey had gotten, the more obvious the damage already caused was.

There were places, multiple places, on Mike's thighs, hips and upper-arms that were blurred under watered-down streams of blood from wounds in his skin that Harvey could only just identify under the glare of already existing, red, shiny raised scars.

"Jesus, kid." Harvey exhaled, holding Mike's wrists tightly in his hands as the he struggled.

"Leggo- Harvey. Leggo of me. Get out." Mike demanded weakly, becoming more sluggish and easier to restrain the longer Harvey held onto him, and held him up against the wall. Once Mike stopped struggling altogether, he reached out and turned the shower off, turning to wrap a hand around Mike's waist.

"Need to get you out of this shower, Mike." He tells his associate, but Mike is on autopilot now, following wherever Harvey leads him. He knows the kid is probably going into shock, and with the way his suit is slowly being permeated with thicker, warmer liquid than the water cooling against him, suffering from blood loss. Harvey can only deal with one thing at a time though, and right now that was getting a towel around Mike and getting him onto his bed. Mike didn't protest, went with it until Harvey began to check him over, fingers swiping at still falling blood to get a look at the damage Mike had caused himself.

Mike pulled away, curling into himself and wrapping arms around him. Harvey could see the faster flow of blood as the curled up position forced it out of the deep cuts along Mike's thighs and arms. From what he can see, the one's on his hip aren't as bad, but the others are a cause for concern. Probably going to need stitches.

"I'm going to call an ambulance, okay Mike? You just stay-" He was going to tell Mike to stay where he was, but the kid was suddenly off the bed, backing away from Harvey and stumbling heavily over his own feet.

"No!" He practically screams at him." No hospitals. No hospitals. Jesus- do you- they'll- No!"

"Alright." Harvey tries to placate, taking a small step towards Mike. The kid stumbles back further, knocking himself off the side of the sofa and falling onto his backside. "Alright, Mike. No hospitals, okay? Just please, can you get up onto the sofa until i find a way to stop the-" He waves over Mike's injured, bloodied body with a hand, feeling sick to his stomach. Mike nods dumbly, tears streaming down his face as he climbs gingerly onto the sofa and drags down the afghan from over the back, curling it around himself. Harvey sighs in something close to minute relief and heads towards the bathroom, phone in hand. Donna's number is dialling before he even closes the door, slumping against it heavily when she answers.

"How's Mike?" She demands without preamble.

"I need you to bring me food with a lot of protein in it, bandages, antiseptic, gauze and butterfly stitches." Harvey doesn't answer her question, letting her defer a moment what he could need those things for.

"Holy shit. How bad it is?" Harvey sighs, dragging a hand through his wet, dishevelled hair and drops his head down to look at the floor. Not two inches from his foot is a pair of open, sharp kitchen scissors, blood coating the sharp end of each blade. The sight makes him sick to his stomach, dizzy in a way he has never felt before and he exhales heavily, tearing his eyes away to stare at the ceiling again.

"Harvey?" Donna's voice echoes along the line.

"It's bad, Donna. Hurry up."

"Yeah.. Yeah i'm on my way." She replies quietly before hanging up. Harvey takes another moment to compose himself, moving forward to grab a plastic jug Mike has in his bathroom and filling it with lukewarm water and grabbing a washcloth. He considers just taking those through, but pit-stops in the bedroom to change into some of Mike's sweats and a t-shirt and grabbing clothes for Mike too, even though he won't be able to get them on until he and Donna have done the best they can with his injuries.

Mike is back on autopilot when Harvey returns, somewhat warmer in dry clothes, to the sitting room. Harvey kneels next to him and calls his name, but gets little response but a flick towards him from Mike's eyes as recognition. He takes it as a go ahead anyway, dipping the cloth into the water and shifting the blanket covering Mike so that Harvey can swipe away the blood coating his arms, first. He ignores the injures beneath the best he can, focusing on the mess and not the cause for now, and he moves down Mike's body. The hip wounds didn't bleed as much, but Mike's thighs are plastered in thick, congealed blood and Mike has the coherency to whimper in pain as Harvey drags the cloth as gently as he can over the mess and the cuts. His eyes are shifting wildly, fingers clenching against the material of his sofa.

"Shh, Mikey. It's okay." Harvey mumbles to him, grabbing the towel that had been around Mike and patting his associates body dry. The blood had slowed, stopped in some places, and he tries to put pressure on the deeper area's to stop those as well. Only about ten minutes has passed when Donna, without knocking, steps into the apartment and rounds into the sitting room towards them. She freezes, mouth hung open in shock, expression pained, as she see's them both in front of her.

"Oh, shit."Donna whispers, coming forward with bags in her hands and dropping to her knee's next to him. Her hand automatically goes to Mike's hair, dragging her fingers through the damp, messy strands. "What have you been doing to yourself?" Harvey can see the tears welling in her eyes and wished they actually had the option to break down themselves right now, instead, he nudges her and nods to the bags at her feet. Determined, she brushes at errant tears and pulls the bags in closer. Inside one is a sandwich, from what he can see she went for one with every bit of protein the sandwich bar had. There is also a bottle of water, a styrophone cup of what smells like chicken soup and a bottle of Tylenol. In the other are the medical supplies he asked for, along with a few others he had forgotten. Harvey has long since gotten used to Donna being able to do the impossible in an equally impossible amount of time, so does not question how she did this so fast and instead nods his thanks to her.

"Help me lay him straight so we can get these clean and covered?" He whispers, trying not to spook Mike who seems like he is finally calming down a little. Donna nods, and together they get him straightened out. They take it in turns, comforting and bandaging, as Mike whimpers and hides his face from them, pale and shaking from blood loss and an ever present chill in his body.

In the end, Mike only eats the soup with a lot of cajoling from Donna, and falls asleep after taking the Tylenol. Harvey is just glad that the kid is clean, covered, clothed and somewhat safe. He's still wary of the blood loss, the shock, the whole cause of this goddamn episode, but this is better than any moment since he arrived.

Donna had disappeared into the bathroom, and then reappeared twenty minutes later, goddess that she was, and declared it all cleaned up. They end up in a debate for another twenty minutes, and end up gathering all dangerous objects within reach and dumping them into Donna's hand bag. It's not that they want to treat Mike like a flight risk, like a danger or a child, but they can't be sure of which mindset Mike will wake up in, and it's better to be safe than sorry.

After that, it's just waiting, and Donna curls up against Harvey as they collapse on the floor in front of Mike.

"What do we do?" Donna asks him quietly, uncertain and scared in a way he has never heard her before. Harvey shrugs.

"We fix him." He tells her, like it will be as easy as that. They both know it won't be, that they should bundle Mike into an ambulance now and get him help, get him safe, but they can't. And they can't do anything but lie to themselves and tell them it will be okay, that they can help Mike through this alone, as they wait for Mike to wake up again.

In the end Mike sleeps for three hours and, if possible, looks worse when he wakes up than he did when he went to sleep.

"Hey kiddo." Donna greets him with a soft smile as Harvey makes his way into the room with three coffee's. Mike takes one from him with shaking hands, refusing to meet their eyes and he flinches as he shifts on the sofa and reaches for his cup. Harvey wants to wince right along with him, barely able to imagine the pull of those wounds and the attached butterfly stitches they had managed to use to pull the torn skin together. He had almost thrown up at the sight, as Donna had held the skin as close as she could so he could lay those white, sticky strips across them.

"Mike, look at me." Harvey sighs, putting his coffee cup down and drawing one leg up onto the sofa to turn and face Mike. Donna mirrors him on the other side of Mike, holding him between them so he doesn't freak and run again. Mike's eyes flick up to his before they flood with guilt, pain and embarrassment and they go back to staring into the black of his coffee.

"Hey, kid, come on. Look at me, we're not angry, we're worried. We want to help." Harvey tells him, and with a deep breath Mike gathers what courage he has left and lifts his head, glancing between the two of them. The kid takes one look at Harvey in his clothes and not his normal suit and sighs sadly.

"M' sorry i ruined your suit." Mike mumbles, forcing a surprised chuckle out of Harvey.

"I don't care about the suit, i'm not worried about the suit. I'm worried about you."

"Don't be, i'm fine." Mike replies sullenly, going to cross his arms across his chest before wincing and letting out a whimper, a sound of which Harvey is becoming increasingly familiar. Donna sighs, tugging at one of his hands until it it cushioned between both of hers, his arm loose and comfortable against his side. Slightly, Mike relaxes against Donna's side, and encouraged by the results she got, Harvey swallows his pride and follows her actions, taking Mike's other hand. Other than a quick, surprised glance, Mike once again lets himself relax into them.

"We just want to know what's going on, sweetie?" Donna coo's, warming Mike's alarmingly cold hand between both of hers. Harvey shoots her a worried, knowing look at how shivery and shocky Mike seems to still be.

"I- Nothing. It's nothing." Mike drops his head, refusing to look at either of them. Harvey can just about make out tears streaming down the kids face, has an overwhelming urge to pull Mike into his arms and make him safe again.

"What i walked in on- Mike, that wasn't nothing. Like i said, we're not angry, we're worried. We just want to help you, but we can't do that unless you talk to us." Harvey adopts Donna's gentle tone, lowering his head slightly to try and catch the kids eyes.

"I don't want your help." Mike hisses, pulling his arms towards himself, hands out of their hands, and curls in. He closes himself off, arms around his waist, stretching the torn skin on his arms grotesquely. Donna and Harvey share another concerned look over Mike's head, silent conversation going on in mere seconds between them, and Harvey has never been more thankful for their years together. Donna nods lightly, giving him the go ahead for the tactic he is about to employ.

"Well, if you can't talk to us, can't let us help you. I'm calling an ambulance. You might not want the help, but you need it." Mike lifts his head, glaring at Harvey in disbelief and betrayal as he leans forward to grab his phone from the table before them. He can see the internal debate, the obvious pain on the kids face, as he dials the numbers in. There's a moment where Harvey thinks Mike will actually let him do it, regardless of his own feelings towards medical involvement, but in the end a shaking, cold hand grabs his wrist before he presses the call button.

"Please, don't." Mike's voice is so small, defeated and child like. It almost hurts to look back at Mike's face and see the warring betrayal, pain and confusion still on his face.

"Please." Mike chokes out again, hand tightening minutely on his forearm and Harvey nods, dropping his phone back onto the table and leaning into the sofa again. The kid still hand his fingers wrapped around Harvey's arm, tears on his face and warring emotions in his eyes but Harvey can see him steeling himself for the conversation to come. Donna takes a chance, runs her fingers through Mike's still damp hair lightly, and luckily he sighs sadly and leans into it a little.

"Where do you want to start?" Mike whispers, tense, but slightly more open between them.

"I already know what triggered..this." Harvey waves with his free hand towards Mike and winces when Mike shrinks a little away from him. "And trust me i know what caused that, and i have never been so sorry for something. So, how about we start when this all began." They wait awhile as Mike closes his eyes, breathing deeply and attempting to collect himself before he visibly steels, pulling himself up a little straighter although not shaking off Donna or letting go of Harvey's arm.

"After-" Mike's voice is still quiet, and his throat clicks dryly as he swallows convulsively. "I was eleven, when my mom and dad died. I was a mess, after, but it didn't start.. like this. I used to back myself into a corner when the panic attacks start and punch things, or hit my head off the wall until it went away. But Grammy started figuring this out, so i had to find other ways to make them stop. Make that choking, horrid panic from taking over. I got the idea when i caught myself on the little metal part of a door lock when i was escaping to my room. It only just broke the skin, but it brought me out a little bit. After that, it went from corners of doors and tables, to the metal out of pencil sharpeners, breaking razors, glass.. scissors." Mike lets out a little sob, glancing guiltily to Harvey. He flashes back to seeing Mike, clutching those scissors and bringing them down towards himself, and has to suppress a shudder.

"It's okay, sweetie. You're doing so good." Donna whispers to him, leaning in to put her cheek against the top of his head, stroking gently over the thin hairs at the base of his hairline and his neck. Mike doesn't suppress his shudder, but thankfully he relaxes further into the embrace they have around him, eyes closed as he continues to talk.

"I didn't start smoking until i hit nineteen, and it helped. Trevor helped, for a while, and the drugs helped for longer. I stopped, because i wasn't coherent enough or feeling enough to need the release. When i stopped smoking- it.. got harder to control. I broke what had been a yearlong streak." Harvey himself has his eyes closed tightly now, trying not to hate himself for taking that escape away from him. If there was a choice, he'd rather see Mike smoke every day for the rest of his life than walk in what he had walked in on earlier. This is his fault.

"Harvey please." Mike's voice is small and pleading, his fingers tightening on Harvey's arm as he opens his eyes. "Don't blame.. It isn't your fault. I was weak, and i got it under control after about a week, i buried myself in work and reading and getting my shit together, but then.. then Grammy died, and this case.. I went over the edge. I couldn't- i don't think i can- i'm just so tired." Mike slumps, breathing deeply. "I'm so tired, and i don't want to try anymore. I want it to be done, i want to not remember the way my parents looked in their coffins, or the exact words i said to Grammy the last time i saw her. I don't want.. this anymore."

Harvey and Donna freeze around Mike's exhausted, injured body. There are matching horrified expressions on their faces as what Mike said sinks in, what it means.

"Were you-" Harvey coughs around the lump in his throat, swallowing thickly. "Were you trying to kill yourself, today?" Mike looks surprised for a moment, and the considerate, and then resigned.

"It wasn't a conscious though, really. I didn't come here and think 'i'm going to kill myself' but- yeah, i think.. i think that might have been the end goal today." Harvey gives into his need, pulls the kid gently towards him into a hug, avoiding the places on his arms that he knows will hurt. Donna plasters herself against Mike's back, sobbing quietly as Harvey tries to get his own emotions under control. He can break down later, Mike is the priority right now.

"Okay." Harvey whispers thickly over Mike's head. "Okay, thank you for tells us. We can deal with this, Mike. You'll get better."

"How?" Mike sounds like a child, muffled in Harvey's shoulder when he has his head buried against Harvey's neck.

"Pearson Hardman's health coverage includes therapists, so we'll start there. We'll help you set up the appointments, but we won't ask you about them, and you only need to talk about them if you want to. Once a week, we'll eat dinner together, and we'll talk if you want to, or we'll just hang out. You need to remember that we're always.. around. You're not doing this alone." Mike sobs lightly, and there are hot tears soaking into the shirt Harvey is wearing, but Mike nods and Harvey is sure he hears a whispered 'okay'.

"You need to take some time off. But either Donna or i will drop in at least once a day, you're welcome to call either of us, whenever. And it will just be until you've healed up enough to move around safely." Donna nods against Mike's shoulder where she has pillowed her head.

"Whenever." She reiterates in his ear. Mike nods slightly.

"It's not that we don't trust you, but we've taken anything we can think you could seriously harm yourself with." Mike stiffens against them. "I know, i'm sorry, but we can't take the risk, Mike. It's not worth the risk, okay? We can renegotiate after a month of therapy, okay?" It takes a while, but Mike gradually relaxes against them and nods again.

"We just want you to be okay, Mikey." Donna whispers to him, and gets a tiny 'i know' in return.

"You have to want to get better for this to work." Mike lifts his head from Harvey's shoulder, looking between both of them like he's torn, like he's considering what either option could mean.

"I want to want this." Mike says eventually, swallowing harshly and trying to keep the obvious shaking of his hands hidden.

"That's enough, for now." Harvey tells him with a little smile.

Mike takes two weeks off, but he still looks sore when he comes back. Donna takes the kid for lunch most days, reporting back to Harvey as the week progresses. There's a general consensus of 'he's not good, but he's not on the edge anymore' that lets Harvey breathe a little easier.

Harvey gets Mike an appointment with a highly qualified, highly recommended therapist on the companies dime, and has Ray take the kid to the appointments and then home, just to make sure he's okay and actually attending. They go for dinner the first time a week after Mike gets back, and although he's still edgy, distant, he's not bleeding, crying or dead so it's a plus.

Three appointments in, Mike asks for dinner at Harvey's place with Donna and himself. They get pizza, and Mike looks a little better, but nervous.

"The therapist thinks i should tell the people i trust my.. triggers and the things to look out for when i'm on the edge or if i've fallen over it and need help." They both nod, chewing on pizza and glancing between themselves and an increasingly nervous Mike. No one says anything for a while until Harvey reaches out a puts a hand on Mike's shoulder.

"We want to help anyway we can, Mike. Just tell us." And then watches as Mike pulls himself together and puts his pizza crust onto his plate.

"You.. I can't work on drunk driver or parental death cases." He says a little sheepishly, but Harvey nods in understanding. "And there are phrases, things i heard when i was failing school or when i was trying to take care of Grammy on my own. Things as simple as 'you're on your own for this one' or 'not good enough' can be enough to tip me over that edge." Harvey winces, almost choking on the pizza in his mouth, as he remembers saying both of those things and giving mike a drunk driver, parental death case within a week. He tipped Mike over that edge. It's only hitting him now that it could have been his own fault, if they'd lost him.

"We can deal with that." Donna smiles at him, sipping her beer. "Is there anything else?" Mike shakes his head.

"Not that we know of, yet." Mike tells them. "But you'll know if i'm close or over the line. Apparently, i constantly rub over frequent harm areas, or recently harmed areas, when it's happening or about to. And i get withdrawn, distracted."

"Okay then, we can deal with that too." Donna smiles at him, and that's that for the night. They continue on, debating Star Treck's and sitting through Pretty Woman for Donna's sake.

It's six weeks, two weeks after Mike renegotiated the return of his sharp objects, when they go through their first relapse. Mike comes into the office and he won't look at Harvey. He can see the kid's hand twitch against his thigh, before giving in and rubbing. Harvey's close to saying something, trying to muster courage, but Mike beats him to it.

"I need help." Harvey releases a sigh, and smiles sadly at his associate. This is improvement. This is what he wanted. They call Donna in. They get dinner and talk it through. Mike makes it past this time, and he comes out the other side stronger.

So now, Harvey knows that there are indicators that he should have seen, little things he should have noticed. There are movements, expressions, single little words that Mike uses when he's quietly screaming for help in his head and trying to keep his cool on the outside.

He knows now all the things he wished he'd known three months ago. But they're a family now, and so much stronger because of it.