Harvey had started to feel nauseous about two hours into the chemo session but he had been able to fight it off. The ride home was another matter. He took short, shallow breaths trying to fight the bile rising in his throat. His head was leaning against the window pane, but even the feeling of the cool glass against his flushed skin hardly helped against the nausea. Mike took his hand at some point in silent support and Harvey was glad for it.

When they arrived at his place Harvey left Mike to deal with the cabbie while he slowly walked into the building. All he wanted was to bend over and give in to his revolting stomach but somehow he made it to the elevator. Mike had caught up with him by then, gently guiding him towards the door.

Harvey wanted to keep the bile in at least until he reached the bathroom, but when they stepped into his condo he lacked the strength and the will. He doubled over, heaving onto the floor, barely noticing how Mike guided him to his knees. He had never liked throwing up, hated the taste of bile, the feeling of the half digested food washing over his tongue… when he was done he felt flushed and dirty, yet he would have liked nothing better than just lie down and rest.

"Hey," Mike said gently, and only then Harvey realised how he was leaning onto his associate. "You okay?"

"Hm," Harvey made, giving a short nod. He didn't rise though but stayed where he was..

"You think you're up to walking to the sofa?" Mike asked after a few minutes, gently nudging Harvey's side.

Harvey didn't think he was, but still he nodded dragging himself to his feet with Mike's help. He more stumbled than walked to the sofa, leaning heavily on Mike.

"I'll get you some water," Mike promised when he had laid Harvey down, rushing over to the kitchen counter.

"Thanks," Harvey muttered as he took the glass, groaning as he pushed himself up to sit. He was still nauseous and flushed but he felt some of his strength returning as he gulped down the water.

"How are you feeling?" Mike asked quietly, taking the empty glass from Harvey to get some more water.

"Been better," Harvey replied, leaning back against the couch with his eyes closed. He could feel a headache develop behind his temples and his throat was getting tense again.

„There is a bucket under the sink," he mumbled, not even sure if Mike could hear him.

"What?"

"Bucket. Under the sink," Harvey managed but it was too late already. He threw up again, heaving up the water he had just drunk.

"Never mind," he muttered as he was finished, sinking back on the sofa. He was feeling so weak and tired...

"You should get some sleep," Mike suggested softly.

Harvey didn't reply but he knew Mike was right. If only the way to his bedroom wasn't that long…

"Come on, Harvey." He could feel Mike reach under his arms, trying to pull him up.

"I've got a meeting with Stratford," he protested weakly, remembering Donna had rescheduled it.

"Yes, and he will be so thrilled when you throw up all over his shoes…"


„You want some dinner?" Mike asked quietly as he stepped into Harvey's bedroom. Harvey had dozed off three hours ago after he had gotten sick again but now his eyes were open.

The lawyer shook his head. He didn't look quite as bad as he had when Mike had dragged him to the bed but even after some hours of sleep he still seemed tired.

"Bucket?" Mike suggested sympathetically and when Harvey shook his head this time, he managed a weary smile.

"Some water would be nice though …"

"Of course." Mike got some water from the kitchen and sat down on the edge of Harvey's bed. "So how are you feeling?"

"Better than before…" Harvey said, slowly pushing himself up to sit. "How long have I slept?"

"About three hours."

"You didn't have to stay that long," Harvey said quietly.

Mike shrugged. "I read some files, and your sofa was quite comfy."

"Tried some coffee?"

"Yeah, about that… There isn't any self-destruct button on the coffee machine, right? Because if there is I may have hit it."

Harvey raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

"Nothing! I just tired to make coffee and suddenly there was hot steam everywhere… I'm actually surprised you didn't wake up from the noise it made."

"And how did you solve the problem?"

Mike shrugged. "I just pulled the plug."

Harvey shook his head in feigned exasperation. "You know, I never would have hired you if I had known you weren't even able to work a coffee machine."

"Well, you didn't hire me for making you coffee."

"Actually, I think I did."

Mike could feel a smile stealing onto his face. It felt good to banter with Harvey, it was almost as if everything was normal.

"You're sure you don't want to eat anything?" he asked, taking Harvey's glass when he had drunk up the water.

Harvey nodded. "I'm not hungry and I'm really not in the mood for throwing up again..."

He closed his eyes again, then lay back down and rolled onto his side.

"You want to sleep some more?"

Harvey shook his head. "Not quite yet… What files did you read?"

Mike started to talk about the case he had been working on, watching Harvey's expression relax at the sound of his voice. It didn't take very long until Harvey's steady breathing told him the lawyer had fallen asleep again, but Mike still stayed with him.


"Breakfast?" Harvey asked, gently nudging Mike's shoulder. The kid had fallen asleep on his sofa working as one could easily tell from the file that had slipped off his lap onto the ground.

Mike blinked sleepily. "What time is it?" he yawned, frowning when his eyes focused on Harvey. "Where do you think you're going?"

"It's 7 am and I am not just thinking about but also I'm going to go to work."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Mike asked and Harvey could hear the concern in his voice.

"Yes," he said firmly. "And nothing you say is going to change it, so suck it up."

Mike sighed. "Fine. You'll have breakfast too?"

"Sure. I also fixed the evil coffee machine." Harvey handed him a cup. "It's not that hard when you know what you're doing. Now scoot over."

Harvey sat down on the sofa next to Mike, and for a while they were just quietly sipping their coffees.

"So I take it you're feeling better?" Mike asked eventually.

Harvey nodded. He was still slightly nauseous but he hadn't thrown up in over twelve hours and he wouldn't rule out tha# he was feeling queasy because he hadn't eaten in almost a day.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you for staying here. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," Mike said and Harvey felt a pang of guilt. He still hadn't told Mike about the part he played in his parents' death, he hadn't even thought about it for days. But now it started nagging at the back of his mind again.

Something must have shown on his face, because there was concern in Mike's gaze again.

"You're feeling sick?"

He kind of was but he had a feeling it had little to do with the chemo. He shook his head.

"Sorry, just lost in thoughts." He just couldn't bring himself to tell Mike. He didn't even know how to tell Mike. ‚By the way, the car accident your parents died in. That was me. I was only a minor though, so no hard feelings, yeah?'

No, he simply couldn't. Just the thought of how much it would hurt Mike made his stomach clench.

"You are feeling sick," Mike pointed out, handing him the bucket.

"I'm not, promise," Harvey insisted.

"Well, still keep the bucket. Makes cleaning up a lot easier."

Harvey sighed. "I'm really sorry, Mike. I know that all of this wasn't in the job description."

Mike gave an ironic smile. "You know I never cared about the job description. Just wanted to ditch the cops."