The motel that Harvey stops at is the same as usual, slightly run down, cheap, no questions asked and Harvey shakes Mike gently awake, ushers him into the room and does the salt lines whilst Mike throws himself down onto one of the squeaky beds. He's asleep again by the time Harvey has checked and double checked the windows, a strip of skin showing between his pants and t-shirt and he shifts, rubs his face against the pillow and Harvey has to stop himself from covering Mike's body with his own and pressing his lips to the spot under his ear that made Mike whine.

Harvey pulls out a t-shirt from his bag, grabs his toothbrush and tooth paste and locks himself in the bathroom. His head makes a dull thud as it hits the door and Harvey sighs heavily. He doesn't know how to do this, to be with Mike and not touch him. He used to know exactly what to do, but that was then, when a couple of shots of whiskey, a few heated kisses, a good fuck into the mattress was the norm.

Mike's under the duvet when Harvey emerges, jeans on the floor by the side of his bed and Harvey gets into his own bed, slides between the dubiously clean sheets and thumps his pillow a few times.

He's teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels his bed dip and Mike's hot hands slide down his arm.

"Mike," he warns and Mike shushes him, tugs on his arm as he lies down and Harvey finds himself turning to face him. Mike's nose is practically pressed to his and Harvey can feel Mike's dick against his thigh.

"I should have known it was you," Mike says, his hand playing along the edge of Harvey's jaw and Harvey can't move right now, Mike presses his hips forward, "today, when I got home, I should have known you were there," Mike shifts again, his dick hard against Harvey's thigh, "because I used to always know where you were," his curls his hand around the back of Harvey's neck and tugs gently and Harvey resists, for the first time since he felt Mike's lips against his, he resists Mike's tugging hands.

"What about Jen?" he says and Mike shifts closer.

"This is about you and me, Harvey," he says, his breath hot against Harvey's mouth and he can taste the coffee they stopped for a few hours back on Mike's breath, but under that there's Mike, same as always, familiar like home and Harvey groans as Mike pulls again and their lips meet, "it's always about you and me," he says against Harvey's mouth, "it's always you," his hips are moving and he kisses Harvey again, pressing himself forward, rutting against Harvey's thigh.

"No, Mike…" Harvey, contrary to his words slides a hand down Mike's back and pulls him flush against him.

"Don't," Mike says, curling his fingers into Harvey's hair, "just…" Mike's words stutter, his breath hot against Harvey's mouth, his stills and Harvey feels the spread of warmth against his thigh, "'Vey," Mike mutters and Harvey pulls him close, wraps his arms around him and curls his fingers into Mike's hair. Mike falls asleep with his hand pressed to Harvey's chest.


The smell of coffee wafting under his nose rouses him the next morning and Harvey groans, pushes himself up enough to blindly grab at the moving mug before gulping down a scalding mouthful. Harvey can go from dead to the world to scary bad ass hunter in 1 second flat when he wants to, but something about having Mike here, subconsciously, puts him at ease and he takes his time waking up and remembering having Mike trembling in his arms the night before.

"Morning," Mike calls cheerily and Harvey manages to focus long enough to see him sitting at the small table by the window with his feet up on the other chair. The laptop is open in front of him and he presses at a few keys before looking back at Harvey, a faint blush of embarrassment on his cheeks the only proof that anything untoward happened last night.

"You are far to cheery this morning," Harvey grumbles, sipping at his coffee and Mike shuts the laptop, takes his feet off the chair and leans his forearms against his knees.

"What did dad find?" Mike asks and Harvey groans.

"Can I at least finish my coffee?"

"No, what did he find Harvey, otherwise I'm going home," Harvey tries not to answer that he is home as Mike stands.

"Mike sit down," Mike does and Harvey swallows, "I don't know what he found."

"You're lying. It may have been four years Harvey but I still know how to read you," and that's the problem, Harvey thinks. He can still read how much Harvey wants him, how hard it is not to touch him every given opportunity. Harvey sighs, swallows down the rest of his coffee and throws the cup into the trashcan.

"He found…others…"

"Others?"

"Do we have to have that conversation about you interrupting me again?" Harvey asks with a small smile and Mike shakes his head, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and looks expectantly at him.

"Others like you. Kids dumped on families. Mother's dying. Freaky brains."

"Way to sugar coat it, Harvey," Mike stands and runs his hands through his hair.

"You never liked me sugar coating stuff Mike," he reminds him and Mike glares at him.

"So you're telling me I did that to mom? To Mary?" Mike's eyes have gone that watery blue that means he might cry and Harvey moves, curls his fingers around the tops of Mike's arms and shakes him slightly.

"No, Mike, don't do this," he says, voice low, using the tone he knows Mike can't deny and Mike curls his own fingers around Harvey's forearms, little points of heat on Harvey's skin.

"Were they even human? My real parents?" Mike asks and Harvey lets him go, Mike's fingers slide down his arms.

"Of course they were," he snaps grabbing at the bag on the small table. Mike's picked up bagels, with cream cheese and Harvey takes a bite of one.

"How do you know that?" Mike asks, pulling at Harvey's t-shirt.

"Why are you asking, Mike?"

"Because…there's something…different about me Harvey, John knew it. You know it, and don't say that you don't," Mike drops the material of Harvey's shirt and looking pleadingly at Harvey. Harvey sighs, he can't tell the kid everything, not yet, not when they've just got here, he'll run, he'll hide better this time and it might take Harvey another 4 years to find him.

"Mike…"

"And stop saying my name like that," Mike snaps and Harvey quirks his lips up at the corner.

"I haven't said it for four years, kiddo, I have some catching up to do," Harvey pushes at Mike's shoulder and Mike grudgingly smiles briefly.

"So what are we going to do?" he asks and Harvey takes another mouthful of bagel.

"Find dad," he says and Mike wrinkles his nose.

"You have food in your mouth…that's disgusting."


They settle into what used to be their routine pretty easily, driving, stopping for gas, bitching over music choices, eating shitty food, checking the rapidly growing cold trail for John, and on the third morning Mike asks to drive.

"Are you fucking kidding me? No," Harvey lightly smacks him round the back of the head and Mike pretends to pout. And its so normal that it makes Harvey's chest hurt.

For the last two nights Mike has crawled into bed with Harvey, and last night Harvey came with Mike's mouth around him. In the cold light of morning though neither of them say anything, Mike stretches out next to Harvey, gives him a small smile and lingers in the bathroom stealing the hot water whilst Harvey lies with his guilt and shame in the too small bed.

As Mike is pulling a threadbare t-shirt over his still damp hair there's a knock at the motel room door and Harvey freezes, checks the salt line with a glance and reaches for the knife under his pillow. Mike looks worried but ready to spring into action and checks the gun at the back of his jeans as Harvey pulls the door, chain still attached, open.

"Jesus Christ Donna, warn a man when you're coming would you?" Harvey's stomach twists with adrenaline and relief as he comes face to face with Donna (no last name although Harvey likes to call her McFabulous sometimes which she grins at).

"Sadly sweetie, not a pleasure call," she sweeps into the room, cocks her head to the side as she takes in Mike, shifting from foot to foot and looking decidedly unsure about the whole situation. She turns to Harvey with an eyebrow raised as she takes in Mike's wet hair and the tangled bed sheets.

"Donna, Mike. Mike, Donna," Donna's face flinches but she manages to get it back to neutral.

"The prodigal brother," she says and Mike nods, swallows, looks terrified and Harvey wants to tell him to calm down, Donna can smell fear, "I heard he was with you. Well good, because you know I hate to repeat myself," she turns back to Harvey, "you never told me he was so adorable Harvey," she says and Harvey lets out a laugh as the tips of Mike's ears redden.

"What's up?"

"I heard, on the grapevine, that puppy here's little girlfriend might be in trouble," she says and Mike blanches.

"Jen? What? Why?"

"Because of who you are sweetie, now if I were you, I would take your skinny little butt right back there and get both of you the hell away from Stanford," she says and Harvey doesn't even need to ask how she knows where Mike is studying, or how she knows Jen might be in trouble. Donna knows things, she always has done, and Harvey doesn't question it so much as use it to his advantage. She's also a hell of a cook and can drink Harvey under the table.

"How do you…" Mike starts and Harvey holds his hands up.

"Just pack Mike, don't ask," he says and Mike scrabbles around the room picking up discarded clothes and shoving them into his bag. Donna raises an eyebrow at Harvey who turns away, now is not the time for Donna's inscrutable gaze. He himself doesn't even know what's going on between them, he doesn't want to have to explain to Donna. The pit in his stomach at the thought of taking Mike back to Stanford is now ten million times bigger, especially noticing the way Mike rushes around, practically manic, at the thought that Jen might be in trouble. Mike is Harvey's dammit, not hers. Donna places her hand on his arm and gives him a sympathetic smile.

"Right boys, my duty is done. Mike, it's been a pleasure, I expect to see more of you. Harvey," she pauses and shakes her head, "Harvey, Harvey, Harvey," she grins and sweeps out of the door.

"Is she for real?" Mike asks once the door closes and Harvey picks up his knife from the table and shoves it into the back of his jeans.

"Never been wrong yet. So let's stop talking and get out of here."


"She's not picking up," Mike says again, for the fourth time, as Harvey floors the gas peddle and swerves around a semi.

"Try again," Harvey snaps, weaving in and out of traffic. They've made good time, stopping once for gas, where Mike twitched the entire time until Harvey started the car again. And they're two hours out of Stanford now and Mike's vibrating worry seems to get worse the closer they get. Harvey uncurls one hand from the wheel and lays it flat on Mike's thigh. Mike stills immediately, an instant reaction to having Harvey's hands on his and Harvey swallows hard at the memories. Mike's hands cover Harvey's like it's a reflex, he squeezes once and flashes Harvey a tight smile. "We'll get there," he promises and immediately regrets it.

If Donna is aware of a problem, then its serious, and Harvey, no matter how much he wants Jen out of the picture, can't help but worry about the poor girl who had no idea what she was getting into when she became involved with Mike.

"Harvey…I…" Mike stutters and Harvey squeezes his thigh, lets go.

"Don't."

"But…"

"Kid, no chick flick moment. I seriously don't want to talk about feelings right now ok, try your girlfriend again," he nods at the phone and tries to keep the bitterness out of his tone when he says girlfriend.

"I want to stay with you," Mike says quietly, phone clutched against his ear and he's not looking at Harvey and for a second Harvey thinks Jen's answered. But then Mike's gaze lifts to his and Harvey swallows.

"Mike..."

"We get her, we make sure she's safe and then we go Harvey, you and me. We find dad, we figure this whole thing out. You and me. Ok? Harvey?" Mike looks pleadingly at him, fingers playing across the denim of Harvey's jeans and Harvey can only swallow down the jump of hope in his throat.

"Ok."


Harvey smells the smoke before he sees the flashing lights, it seeps in through the vents in the car and Mike stiffens, even though he's been sitting bolt upright for the past hour, tapping his fingers against his thigh.

"Something's wrong," he mutters and Harvey pulls the car up around the corner from the apartment and Mike's out of the door, running, before Harvey can get the key out of the ignition.

"Mike," Mike doesn't break stride as he hits the gathered crowd, and the barriers and Harvey manages to catch up, get his arms around him as he gets to the front and hauls him back.

"Get off," he shouts, struggling in Harvey's grip and Harvey sees the plume of smoke coming from Mike's apartment.

"Mike," there's a body being stretchered down to a waiting ambulance, but there's a sheet over it and Harvey knows the worst even if Mike doesn't, or doesn't want to accept it yet.

"Get the fuck off Harvey," he twists in Harvey's arm and Harvey keeps his grip.

"Mike, it's too late," Harvey stumbles as Mike manages to get a punch in to Harvey's ribs and then he's off, ducking under the barriers and barging his way through to the stretcher. He's stopped by Police and Harvey internally winces, but barges on through and explains as Mike pulls the sheet back.

"Jen," the noise Mike makes is heartbreaking, its full of guilt and anger and Harvey wants to touch him, to reassure, even though he knows nothing will work right now, nothing except time. Mike straightens, puts the sheet back and strides off, brushes past Harvey like he doesn't even know him and Harvey forces a smile and an apology at the sympathetic police officers.

He finds Mike by the car, slamming his fist into the wall, tears streaming down his face and Harvey instinctively curls his fingers around Mike's drawn back wrist.

"It's not your fault Mike," he says and Mike wrenches his hand out of Harvey's grasp, spins and Harvey dodges another punch, "it's not mine either kiddo, so you can stop throwing punches," Mike throws another and Harvey uses his momentum to grab his wrist, pin it behind his back and pushes Mike down onto the hood of the Impala. Mike's got quick reflexes and its that which stops him face planting the hood. He shifts, pushes back against Harvey and Harvey pulls his arm higher up his back and lets the hand flat on Mike's back slide up and run along Mike's hairline.

"Listen to me…are you listening?" Harvey says into his ear, Mike struggles, lets out a sob and then sags, nods, "it's not your fault, you got me?" Harvey relaxes his grip, "have you finished?" Mike nods again and Harvey lets him go, takes a step back and Mike's hand slaps against the hood before he pushes himself up. He glares at Harvey like he hasn't finished, like he wants to kill something.

"If I hadn't left with you…"

"Then you'd be dead," Harvey interrupts, "or God knows where. We don't know if this was an accident or on purpose or what happened, Mike, so don't you dare go blaming yourself."

"Donna's never wrong, that's what you said," Mike accuses and Harvey sighs, he feels useless right now, and guilty and he hates it.

"There's a first time for everything," he says and Mike lets out another sob, turns away from Harvey and punches at the wall again. Harvey notices the blood across his knuckles but says nothing, doesn't make to touch him again.

"God…I was going to leave her, for you," Harvey tries to ignore the anger in Mike's voice, like it was Harvey's idea that Mike left Jen, and then Mike's legs give out and Harvey's at his side in a second, scooping the kid up and against him, Mike fists his hands into Harvey's shirt, "I told you when she was burning. She was burning alive, Harvey and I was talking about leaving her," Mike chokes, turns his face to Harvey's neck and Harvey feels the tears on his skin.

"Mike," and there's nothing else he can say, not to make this better. Harvey just holds him until Mike pushes him away and stands, rubs a hand over his face and lifts his chin.

"We've got work to do."


Harvey's gentle with him in a way he's never been before, wraps Mike's hand as he looks at Harvey with no emotion playing across his face. He bundles Mike into the car and drives, uncaring of the direction he just needs to drive, to get away from the smoke still lingering in the air.

He pulls into a motel when his eyes start stinging from lack of sleep, pushes Mike into the shower and runs their clothes to the laundry, to get the acrid smell of burning out of them.

When Mike was suffering before, when they were younger, Harvey would push and push, press until it hurt, until Mike snapped, through a punch and then get over it. But he can't do that now, Mike's already at the edge and if Harvey pushes him anymore he's not sure what will happen. He's known Mike was different, known about the other kids, the isavants/i, as John called them, what they were capable of, and its only because of Mike's relatively grounded upbringing, grounded in the sense that he always had Harvey no matter what other crap happened, that he's still Mike, and not some mindless drone, capable of destruction with a single thought.

What they don't know is who's controlling the kids, who's responsible for bringing them into the world, if they are all related somehow, or just victims of circumstance.

Mike's distance now, that's to be expected, he lost his girlfriend, and Harvey doesn't even want to think about how the fire started, even though they both know it was probably the same way their mother burned. They have no proof except a gut feeling. But Mike's distant, flinching every time Harvey touches him, answering with one word answers until Harvey's just about had enough.

It takes him a week and a half to build up the courage to push Mike.

"Right, I know you lost Jen and all but this mopey, teenage angst crap has got to stop," Mike glares at him across the car.

"Mopey?"

"Yeah, mopey," Harvey twists his lips to a half smile and is rewarded with one from Mike, just a flash and then he frowns.

"My girlfriend died Harvey," he says, glaring again and turning back towards the window.

"Yeah kid I know," Harvey sighs, suddenly feeling guilty about pushing.

"Stop calling me kid," Mike snaps and Harvey smiles at the age old argument.

"At least I didn't call you Mikey," he says and Mike bites his bottom lip and his nostrils twitch like he's trying not to smile. "Listen, I know Jen died, and its sad and all, but we have stuff to do Mike, work."

"When did you become such a heartless bastard?" Mike asks, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips. Harvey grins back at him.

"About the time you walk out," he replies, and Mike flinches. He meant it as a joke, meant to lighten the mood but he misses by a mile and they both know it.

"Harvey," Mike says and Harvey shakes his head, pulls the car into a gas station.

"Forget it."


"Billie Holliday?" Mike asks, lifting a hand to catch the bag of chips that comes sailing through the air, he doesn't even lift his head from the tape box and Harvey nods, impressed then frowns.

"What's wrong with Billie Holliday?" he asks as he gets back into the front seat and Mike raises an eyebrow. Harvey frowns again and grabs the tape out of Mike's hands. "I will enlighten you kid, just you wait and see."

Mike snorts and lapses into silence, but it's an easy one, well easier than it has been for the past 10 days and he taps his fingers against his thigh gently as the music fills the car and Harvey lets himself breathe, just a little bit.


The next motel they stop at only has a double room left and Harvey valiantly suggests that Mike takes the bed, after all, he's fully intending to stay up most of the night making sure Mike has no more nightmares anyway, what the difference if he's in a chair or a bed.

Mike frowns, rubs at the back of his neck and tells Harvey he's being stupid, they've shared a bed often enough.

"May I remind you kiddo how most of those times ended up?" Harvey says as he pours salt across the door and cracks the air con up. Its stuffy in the room, but Harvey likes the windows shut. Harvey feels Mike's hand, tentative, on his back. Harvey stands and shrugs him off, with a smile but Mike still frowns again.

"Harvey," there's a hint of pleading in Mike's tone and Harvey shuts his eyes briefly.

"No, Mike," he says, opening them to find Mike right in front of him, his blue eyes searching Harvey's face, "no."

"Do I have to remind you what I said in the car?" Mike asks and Harvey knows what he's talking about.

We get her, we make sure she's safe and then we go Harvey, you and me. We find dad, we figure this whole thing out.

"That was before your girlfriend died, Mike, I'm not…" he pauses, pushes gently at Mike's chest, "I can't be a rebound for you," Mike opens his mouth to protest but Harvey shakes his head and it snaps shut with an audible click, "when you want me for me, then I'll think about it," he says with a crooked smirk and Mike frowns, rolls his eyes.

"I hate you sometimes," he says and Harvey just smirks wider.

"No you don't," he replies, "you love me."

"Do not."

"Do too.