A/N: Ah! Sorry this is a day late. I have a night class now on Thursdays (and Tueadays... again.) so I didn't have much time to update it and by the time I got back to my dorm I felt like a zombie so I totally forgot about it.

Chapter Seven - Broken Promises (Posted 27 January 2012)

Harvey wasn't ashamed of his emotions. He felt no embarrassment at showing affection. He loved helping people. He let his feelings run as free as anyone.

But he had never felt a rage like the one he was in now. He stomped down the hallway, pushing Theresa out of the way when she stopped to ask him what was wrong.

He stormed into his room, kicking his dresser and bookcase and any other fixture he came close to.

"Harvey," asked the only voice that could reach him through his fury, "what's wrong?"

Harvey stilled and took a few shallow breaths before looking over to see Mikey, looking slightly frightened in his bed. He immediately straightened and calmed himself. The last thing he wanted to do was scare him. "Sorry, Mikey." he said softly, sitting next to him and hugging him close. "Don't be scared."

"I'm not scared." Mikey professed. "I was just worried about you."

Harvey smiled. Of course he was worried about him. "I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine."

Who was he kidding? They both knew he couldn't lie to him. No matter how much pain the truth would cause. "I'm not. I'm not fine."

"Why?"

"I'm angry."

Mikey hugged Harvey tighter. "What are you angry about?"

"Don't worry about it." Harvey ruffled his hair.

"But I want to know. You tell me everything, Harvey. I can help."

"I know. I will tell you. But not now. Right now, it's time to go to sleep." He laid down, keeping Mikey close to him. He didn't need to be asked to stay with him anymore, he just did it. At first it was to protect him. But now he didn't think he would ever be able to fall asleep without this body in his arms.

For the next few days, Harvey wouldn't let Mikey out of his sight. It was already a rare occurrence for them to be separated, but it became impossible as their remaining time together dwindled.

He pushed him on the swing until he was sure his arms were about to fall off. He raced him up and down the yard even after his legs started cramping. They spent hours trying to finish their waterfall puzzle. And he kept a firm hold on Mikey's hand wherever they went.

When the doorbell rang one afternoon, a deafening chime sounding throughout the house, Harvey's entire body went cold.

Mikey looked up at him, feeling anxious at his uncharacteristically emotionless face.

"Mikey!" their mother's voice drifted up to their room.

He bit his lip, looking to Harvey for guidance. But the older boy didn't say anything. "Yeah, Mom?"

"Can you come down here for a second? Someone's here to see you."

"Who could it be?" Mikey whispered. "I don't know anyone." But Harvey didn't answer. Didn't move at all. So Mikey stood and went to leave the room, but felt someone pull him backwards into the tightest hug he'd ever felt in his life. "Harvey? What's wrong?"

Harvey didn't know what to say or do. He knew this time was coming since his parents dropped the bomb last week. "I love you, Mikey."

"I love you too." he assured, though he appeared confused.

"I promise. No matter what happens, I love you. And I will never stop."

"I know, Harvey."

"Mikey?" their mother's voice called out again.

"Coming, Mom." he answered. "Harvey, I can't move unless you let me go."

"Sorry." Harvey said, dropping his arms. But he kept hold of his hand, determined to spend every last second with him, even if it caused his heart to burst. "Let's go."

Mikey nodded, not sure if he should be happy, nervous, scared, angry, or any of the many other emotions he was feeling in that moment. But he walked away anyway, pulling Harvey along behind him. "Mom?" he asked when he made it downstairs. Then he saw an older woman he sort of recognized. "Hey, I know you. You're the woman they said was my grandmother."

"That's right," she nodded, tiny tears rolling down her cheeks. "You still don't remember me?"

He shook his head, half hiding behind Harvey. "And you," he looked at the pencil thin woman standing beside her, "you're the woman who brought me here..."

The woman looked at Mrs. Specter. "You didn't tell him?"

She held her tears in. "We didn't want to upset him."

Mikey suddenly felt afraid. "Tell me what?" As always, the first person he looked to for answers was Harvey. All he got was an icy hand on his shoulder.

"Michael," the old woman said, looking into his eyes, seeking out the grandson she once knew, "you're coming home."

"I am home..."

"No, you're coming to your real home. With me, your grandmother."

"But I don't want to go!" he clung to Harvey, his tears soaking through his brother's clothes. "Harvey, please don't let them take me away! I want to stay with you."

"I'm so sorry." Harvey whispered.

"Mrs. Ross," the other woman, who Harvey recognized as a social worker with her cheap matte grey suit and tight hair bun that clearly said she tried to look wealthier than she was, "please collect your grandson."

Harvey knew how these things worked. He'd lived with enough traumatized kids to know that the social worker wasn't supposed to touch him. But if his grandmother was his legal guardian, he had no way to stop her from taking him. "Mikey, I put my address and phone number in your pocket. I know you remember everything, but just in case. You can write to me and call me as much as you want, okay?" He had to be strong. He couldn't fall apart here. Not in front of him.

"No!" Mikey screamed. "You can't let her take me! I'm yours! You said we would be brothers forever!" His eyes were clouded by his tears, but he was pretty sure the shape he saw coming toward him was the woman claiming to be his grandmother.

He didn't mean to wrap his arms around Mike, protecting him like an invincible forcefield, it just sort of happened. Like a reflex. "That's right, you are mine. And I'll come get you one day. Then we can be brothers, Mikey."

"Harvey!" Mikey yelled as he was ripped away from Harvey.

Harvye lunged forward to grab him, but suddenly his father was behind him, holding him back. He reached out, kicking the man who was keeping him from rescuing Mikey. "Let me go! They can't have him! They can't!"

"Let's go, Michael." the old woman said, dragging him away by his arm.

"No, stop it! I wanna stay with Harvey! He loves me."

She looked down at him as she led him to her car. "I love you, Michael. I'm your family. They were just keeping you until you could come back with me."

"Harvey! Harvey, please!"

With one final, particularly strong kick, even for a fourteen-year-old, Harvey broke free of his fathers grasp and ran toward the one thing he loved most. He almost had him, their fingertips brushing just before a car door closed between them.

He pounded on the window, promising Mikey with every fiber of his being that he wouldn't let this be the end. As he reached to open the door, the car sped away. He ran after it, staying beside it for as long as he could. But he was only human, no match for a motor vehicle. So he fell behind. But he kept running. He was sweating and panting and crying, and every muscle in his body was aching, but he ran until he couldn't see that car anymore.

For the first time in his life, Harvey felt defeated. Mikey was gone. After he'd promised him they'd always be together. Even though he hadn't meant to do it, he'd lied. To the one person who never deserved to be lied to. And he felt like dirt.

He trudged home, trying to find some way he could make this be okay. But he scowled at himself. Of course he couldn't make this okay. No part of this was okay.

"Harvey." his mother said with a hoarse voice. Along with her puffy eyes and shaky stature, he could tell she'd been crying. "It's going to be okay."

That broke him. "How can you say that?" he yelled at her. "What in this whole world could make this okay?"

"Honey, I'm sorry." she declared meekly. "We did everything we could..."

"Well that wasn't good enough. You told me we were going to keep him. And then you just stood there while some old hag took him from his home!"

His father looked on at him, eyes full of as much sympathy as a hard working man would allow them to have. "It's better this way, son."

"Better?" he said harshly. "You promised it would work out."

"We didn't know..." his mother started.

But he was already walking away. Back to his bedroom, which he promptly destroyed. While he'd only been kicking things around when he found out Mikey wouldn't be staying after all, now he was alone. There was no one to pull him from his blind rage. He knocked pictures off the wall, pulled all the drawers out of his dresser, took his baseball bat to his lamp, and threw the first book he saw out the window.

The rest of the house pretended not to hear the ruckus coming from Harvey's room. They all knew it would be better to just let him get it out, there was no stopping him, lest someone got hurt.

The noise stopped somewhere throughout the night. Everyone went to sleep, assuming Harvey had worn himself out.

His parents silently agreed they would assess the damage in the morning.