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I don't own Suits, but I do own a heart that loves it.

One-Shot # 3

I'm Not The Hero You Think I Am

Harvey Specter held a shot glass limply between his thumb and first two fingers while sitting in a chair with his elbows resting on his knees and swirled the exorbitant scotch that lined the bottom as he stared at the sleeping form of Michael Ross on his couch. His jaded, brown eyes fell upon bruises on the younger man's face that even his most expensive scotch couldn't soften. He drank the remaining liquid and relished at the burning sensation it brought while it ran down his throat to his guilt ridden stomach and eyed the bottom of the glass. The emptiness represented more than just the thin glaze over his eyes and the numbness of his senses. Casting a glance at his associate once more in hopes of seeing familiar blue eyes that held admiration Harvey didn't think he deserved, he gave a long sigh at the despondency and stood up a bit unstable and filled his glass once more.

With a small cling, he sat the bottle of scotch down and leaned against the counter taking more small sips of the desired liquid. He rubbed a hand across his fatigued facial features and was not surprised at the rough stubble he felt along his jaw line, but was stunned however, as he didn't seem to mind that it was there. He attempted to set his glass down on the countertop, but missed it by a couple of inches, sending the glass to the floor. The sound of shattering glass sent his mind several hours back to the morning

"Harvey, what is with you and skinny ties?" Mike asked, clearly irritated.

"As I have said many times, people respond to how we are dressed. When I see you in a skinny tie, I don't want to talk business. I want to wrap it around your neck and choke you." Harvey replied without any heat. He chuckled when Mike rolled his eyes and looked out the window as he sulked.

"But if Rachel has a thing for kid's in skinny ties, then I suppose it would be okay to wear one around the office." Harvey joked, trying to get Mike out of his brooding state.

It didn't work.

"Mike-" Harvey started to say, but was cut off short by the screeching of tires, the warping of metal and the shattering of glass.

Harvey was dazed for moment, unsure of what had just happened. He blinked several times until his mind processed the recent events. Adrenaline slammed into him and he was back in reality. His mind was working a hundred and twenty miles an hour, and for a split second he thought that it was probably how Mike lived day to day, his mind working faster than his body. Then, it hit him.

Mike.

Turning his head as fast as he possibly could, which would never be fast enough, he saw the slumped figure of the younger man in the seat next to him. His face ashen, making the violent red blood running down his face stand out even more.

"Mike?" Harvey called, his voice wavering as he placed a shaky hand on his associate's shoulder.

"Mike?" He called again, after he had swallowed the lump in his throat. But Mike didn't stir. He saw the younger man's chest rise and fall and the trembling in his hands lessened.

"Come on, Mike. Wake up!" He tried, but to no avail. He looked around and saw Ray coming around to Harvey's door. He watched the driver open his door and poke his head in.

"Harvey! Are you and Mr. Ross okay?" The man asked in distress.

"Ray, call an ambulance. He's not waking up."

"Already done, Sir. They are on their way. Are you okay, Harvey?" He asked again.

"I'm fine, Ray." Harvey answered looking his driver up and down. "Are you?"

"Yeah, I think so." Ray's face started to pale. "I didn't see him. Our light was green. I just went. I should've looked. I should've made sure no was going to run the light. I-"

"Ray!" Harvey called, trying to catch his attention. "It's not your fault. Where's the guy that hit us?"

"He's...he's still sitting in his car, Sir. I, I think he's injured, too."

Harvey looked out the broken window on Mike's side and noticed the man's vehicle was smashed into the side of their car, but luckily most of it caught the trunk of the car instead of directly in Mike's door.

Anger bubbled in Harvey's chest at the thought, but soon he felt sick. He was vaguely aware for being pulled from the car, away from Mike. Once he was standing on the curb, he realized the paramedics had arrived and were asking him questions, while others pulled Mike's limp form from the car.

He watched in horror, completely ignoring the paramedics tending to him, as Mike's body was laid on a stretcher and strapped down.

"He's unconscious." The first paramedic stated, along with Mike's vitals. Harvey heard the words 'head injury' before they started wheeling him towards the ambulance. Harvey broke from the paramedics holding him back and made to follow Mike to the ambulance, until Mike's head snapped towards him, eyes wide open and accusing.

"Harvey." His voice was loud, drowning out the sounds of New York City.

Harvey stopped dead in his tracks, his heart stopping in the process. He didn't remember this part. He stared wide-eyed at Mike, who stared back at him.

"Why, Harvey?" Mike asked. "Why? Why did you let this happen?"

Harvey moved his mouth, but nothing came out.

"Why didn't you protect me?"

The paramedics started rolling him away again, but Harvey couldn't move.

"Harvey."

"Harvey!"

Mike's voice was getting closer, despite the fact he was being wheeled farther away.

"Harvey!"

Harvey jumped and shook his head. He blinked and realized he was standing in his kitchen and not at the scene of the car wreck.

"Harvey?" He jumped again and noticed Mike leaning heavily against the counter beside him.

"What are you doing off the couch?" Harvey asked, moving quickly to assist Mike. Mike protested and held out an arm weakly.

"I heard glass shatter. You dropped your drink and like...zoned out or something. I couldn't get your attention." Mike replied, looking at his boss worriedly.

"It's the scotch." Harvey lied and dismissed, as he motioned towards the half empty bottle on the counter. Mike still eyed him, and Harvey rolled his eyes.

"Come on. You shouldn't be up." Harvey said, taking a hold of Mike's right arm and putting it around his shoulders. He felt his stomach churn a little bit when Mike didn't protest and actually leaned against him as they crossed the distance to the couch, but relieved that the resentful and angry Mike from his flashback/nightmare was just a figment of his guilt ridden mind.

He eased Mike down on the sofa and watched the younger man lie down on his right, uninjured side and curl up, burying his face in the cushions on the back of the couch.

He heard the younger man give a sigh of relief, content and exhaustion.

"It's so stupid." He heard Mike mumbled into the cushions.

"What is?" Harvey asked, setting down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Mike's back was to him and he could see the muscles in his back tense, as if he couldn't relax.

"I've been sleeping for hours, and just by walking to your kitchen I feel like I ran across America with Forrest Gump." Mike replied, curling in on himself even more.

Harvey laughed half-heartedly. "A concussion along with the pain medicine your on will do that to you."

"I guess so." Mike mumbled, and Harvey could tell he was already half asleep.

"Get some sleep, kid." Harvey stated, allowing at least one of them to sleep, knowing there was no way he would be succumbing to the hellish nightmares that licked at his mind even while he was awake. He leaned forward and put a gentle hand on Mike's head, moving back the dark blonde hair to check the stitches along his hairline. Seeing that they were still intact and accompanied by a colorful display of black, purple and yellow bruises that covered the left side of the younger man's face, he easily ruffled the top of the kid's hair, making sure he wasn't touching any tender spots.

He stood up, feeling the effects of his scotch a little bit more, and turned to go to his bedroom, but a weary voice stopped him.

"There's nothing you could have done."

Harvey closed his eyes, and felt the scotch loosen his tongue despite his best efforts to stop it. "There's always something I could have done."

"Let me put it this way. There's nothing I would have wanted you to do."

Harvey sighed and ran a hand across his face, scratching at the dark stubble on his face.

"What you're doing now is enough. Let it be enough." Mike pleaded, his head still buried in the couch, their backs to one another, but both knew the expressions of the other.

Mike was pleading for his hero not to fall, begging for his paragon to believe in the admiration he held for him.

Harvey was wishing he could be the hero Mike believed him to be, hoping he could do something that deserved the admiration his associate, his friend, his brother had for him.

"I don't want- I don't need the armor to be protected, to be safe." Mike's voice pulled Harvey from his thoughts. "I need the man behind it."

After several seconds, Harvey turned back around to look at Mike and found him asleep, relaxed and despite the injuries sustained to the left side of his body from an unpreventable, on their part, car accident, he was safe and sound.

Harvey felt the scotch, or maybe it was the truth, tug at the corner of his lips and forced him to smile.

Maybe he is a hero after all.

AN: Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!