Night at the Museum

Hi again! Thanks so much for the prompts and reviews. Originally you had til August 11th to get in prompts, but I've decided to extend it to the 18th! So keep up the prompts!

Chapter Info: For Sig Sauer: I've got two ideas. One involves a truck... Pretty self-explanatory. But have you ever gone to a museum before and they had those old muskets, the ones that shot lead balls instead of bullets? They usually didn't kill people, but they were pretty painful. Mike doesn't have to shoot himself with it, someone else can do it for him. Thank you. I decided to go with the musket story. Enjoy!

"Harvey, you do know it's a bad idea coming to the museum at night? Haven't you ever seen that movie?"

"Mike, I don't watch kiddy movies like that; I'm an actual man unlike you who is-"

"A little girl, right."

"Look at that, you're learning."

Mike snorted as he and Harvey bounded up the stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art to meet their client inside. Mr. Clint Martinez owned the museum and the city of New York was threatening to shut it down, because it wasn't getting enough business, the exhibits weren't attracting enough and it was a waste of space.

"Clint," Harvey flashed his infamous 'Harvey Specter' smile.

"Harvey!" A man in his forties came from behind the admissions desk, heading towards them with a wide grin on his face. "Glad you could make it. And whose this?"

"This is my new associate, Mike Ross. Mike, Clint Martinez."

Mike and Clint shook hands before the client spoke again. "So, how about a short tour; I'll show you my most prized exhibits."

"Of course," Harvey said. "Anything that will get the court to rule in your favor."

"Excellent! If you'll just follow me."

They walked around the museum, Clint giving them short summaries of some of the exhibits he had. It had been nearly a half hour when they reached the gun exhibit.

"And out of all the displays that I have, this is the one I live for."

All types of guns; old, new, big, small were displayed throughout the entire floor. Harvey was actually amazed as was Mike and they could tell why the man liked it so much. "My personal favorite it the musket. The colonial guns were skinny and the musket balls were small, but they could take off a limb just like that."

Clint unlocked and opened the glass, pulling out the musket rifle along with an iron ball.

"Would you like to know how to load it?"

Before Harvey could answer, his phone rang in his pocket. He took it out and looked at the caller I.D with a grimace on his face. "Excuse me Clint, I have to take this. But show Mike; he's always eager to learn new things." With that he walked down the hall and turned the corner, leaving Mike stuck without an escape.

"So, Mike, do you like guns?"

"Umm, yeah, they're pretty cool."

"Well the ones they used in the war, they were much better." He started loading the gun. "The musket ball I'm using is a .648 caliber lead ball. Now, these ones don't penetrate, but when it meets flesh, they hurt like hell...maybe even break a few bones."

Mike chuckled nervously. "You're not planning on shooting that are you?

"Why not, kid? You learn by-" All of sudden the gun went off, propelling Mr. Martinez back and the ball heading straight towards Mike.

Son of bitch! And before he could move, he felt like he was being punched by an iron-clad fist. So much pain from one little thing; the wind was knocked out off his lungs and before he knew it, he was on the floor and gasping for air. He couldn't breathe; black and white spots started to appear in his vision. Clutching his ribs, he prayed that Harvey heard the shot...and that he was curious enough to come check. If he didn't and Clint didn't get out of his stupor to go get help, he was screwed. Or more like dead.

~+SUITS+~

"Jessica, I'm the best closer in New York City; I'm pretty sure-"

BLAM!

Harvey looked up with a frown. What the hell was that?

"Harvey?"

It sounded like a gun. Harvey's heart pounded against his chest in fear. "Jessica, I need to call you back."

"Harvey-" But the lawyer hung up and pocketed the cellphone. Clint said he was gonna demonstrate that musket, but in his gut, he knew something went seriously wrong. And when he turned the corner, all his blood drained to his feet. Mike was curled up on the floor, gasping for air while Clint was frozen in shock, the musket pointed out and smoke curling into the air from the muzzle. His client had shot Mike! Though he tried not to show concern, he ran over to the kid and knelt down.

"Mike! Mike, are you okay?" But all he got was a choked wheeze. And then he remembered something from history in college. Musket balls rarely ever penetrated unless they were the really heavy ones...and god he prayed that Clint didn't use a big one. Thankfully, when he rolled Mike back a little, the lead ball was on the floor and there was no blood...however, that didn't mean there wasn't any internal damage. Angrily, he stood up straight and stormed over to their client, ripping the musket out of his trembling hands and tossing it to the side.

"What the hell is your problem? You shot my associate!"

"Ha-Harvey, I don't know what happened! It just went off, I-"

"Don't bother explaining yourself, Clint," Harvey growled angrily before going back over to the kid, getting on his knees beside him.

"Mike! Kid, can you hear me?"

"H-Har...can't b-breathe...h-help!" God, his whole front hurt. His ribs were burning and he swore that when the lead ball hit his body, he could hear a crack...a loud one. Even worse, he could. Not. Breathe. The wind had been knocked out of his lungs and he was starting to get extremely lightheaded. He felt himself being lifted up into a sitting position, but all he wanted was to breathe!

Harvey was about ready to panic; Mike was pale and his lips were turning dangerously blue. He was losing oxygen fast. He could see tears in the man's wide eyes and he wracked his brain for something to do...and only one thought came to him.

"Do you need me to call the ambulance?" Mr. Martinez breathed worriedly.

"No. Mike, listen to me; don't try and breathe fast." He placed his hand on the middle of Mike's back, rubbing small circles. "I want you to copy me; copy my breathing."

"I...I can't...h-hurts t-too...much. F-Fuck...it hurts...s-so...much."

"I know it does kid, but you have to calm your breathing down, because I am not kissing you if you stop breathing." Though he didn't mean that one bit; if Mike stopped breathing, he was gonna give it his all and save his little brother's life. He was not dying today. "Now copy my breathing."

Nodding weakly, Mike tried and failed, in too much of a panic. Harvey cursed under his breath, trying not to listen to Mike's choked wheezes, getting shallower by the second. Gently, he pulled the man closer so that Mike's head was resting on his chest. "Okay...listen to my breathing." He felt Mike nod his head and he made his breaths exaggerated so the kid could hear them.

Mike closed his eyes and listened as close as he could. Pretty soon, he began breathing deeply and they finally matched those of his mentor. Immediately, all his energy drained and he leaned against Harvey's body. The older lawyer nearly tipped back, but balanced his body so that he was cradling the kid a bit more. "You're alright, kid; just keep breathing."

Mike coughed, breathing in shakily and starting to get tired. He really wanted to sleep.

"Hey." Harvey tapped Mike's face. "Eyes open; you can rest when we're in the car."

"O-Ok-kay."

"Can you get up on your own?"

"Y-Yeah, I think...I think so."

Mike pulled away and he shakily pushed himself up into a uneven standing position.

"You good?" Harvey asked, still a bit worried.

"Mmhmm...I'm gonna go...I'm gonna go wait in the c-car." With that, Mike kept a steady hand against the wall and disappeared around the corner. Harvey didn't want to let him be alone for too long, worried the kid might fall back onto the floor, so he decided to make this quick.

"Harvey, I swear I didn't-"

The lawyer put a hand up to stop the man in his sentence. "I don't wanna hear it, Clint. I'm sure it was an accident, but it's Mike's decision if he wants to sue."

"S-Sue? What are you talking about?"

"He was injured...with your products. And I'm telling you now, you better get a good lawyer, because if he does decide to press charges, I will be the one representing him." With that, Harvey turned around, having said his speech.

"Wait! Harvey, what about the museum? Harvey!"

But he was gone. When he got outside, Mike was sitting down on the steps, breathing heavily. Harvey could tell the kid was in a lot of pain; he wasn't surprised though, there were probably a few cracked or broken ribs not to mention some bitching bruises. He put a gentle hand on Mike's shoulder, startling the kid a little.

"Easy, Mike, it's just me."

"Oh...Harvey...can we go back to the firm now? Or home maybe?"

"We're not going anywhere but the hospital."

"N-No; Harvey I'm fine I-"

"You're going and that's final. Now get up."

Groaning and clutching his ribs, Mike grabbed the rail and pulled himself up. Harvey kept close in case his associate was about to tip over. But soon, they made it to the black town car and got into the back.

"Ray, bring us to the hospital."

"Right away, sir." The car pulled out into the nearly vacant street and bound for NY Presbyterian. The whole way, every time they hit a pothole or even the slightest bump, Mike would moan or whimper in sheer pain, though he tried not to let it show. Harvey pursed his lips in sadness as he kept giving the kid sideways glances.

"You doin' okay kid?"

"L-let me...let me get back to y-you on that in a f-few hours."

Harvey smirked. "We're almost there, Mike. Just hang on for a little bit longer." Just hopefully all theses bumps weren't doing any inside damage to his associate. For all he knew, the kid could be dying...and he couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.

~+SUITS+~

Harvey paced the waiting room, in worry, though he tried not to show it. When they'd gotten out of the car and headed for the doors, Mike suddenly collapsed onto the ground, scaring the shit out of Harvey. Until then, he noticed how pale and sick looking the kid looked. Frantically, he bolted into the hospital, shouting for help and in the blink of an eye, a crowd of nurses rushed outside with a gurney and then wheeled his unconscious associate back inside. Harvey had tried to follow, but he was held back- much to his discretion- and forced to wait. In the meantime, he had called Donna; at first the woman was pissed that he'd woken her up, but when he told her that Mike was injured, she put sleep aside and said she'd be at the hospital in ten minutes. Now he was just waiting...something he hated to do. Sighing in frustration, Harvey looked around the room; it was surprisingly empty except for a couple holding hands, the woman crying into the man's shoulder. He felt bad for them and whomever they were mourning for. He prayed that that wouldn't have to be him and Donna. Mike couldn't die; it was just a couple cracked ribs and some extensive bruising, right? Nothing bad was gonna happen, right? Harvey sighed tiredly; being at the hospital at quarter to one in the morning was not really the way he had planned his night. Wiping a weary hand down his face, he dropped into a nearby chair, flicking his gaze towards the doors where Donna would be coming through, to the door where Mike's doctor was going to show himself. He closed his eyes for a brief second before he heard a familiar voice in front of him.

"Harvey."

Donna. He blinked open his eyes and saw the woman standing in his vision. Her face was void of her usual makeup, her hair was up in a messy ponytail and she was dressed in some yoga pants and a sweatshirt. All signs of being woken up in the middle of the night.

"Harvey, did you hear anything yet?" The red-head spoke in a distressed tone.

"No; I've been sitting here for the past half-hour. Nothing yet."

Donna sighed, taking her purse off her shoulder and collapsing onto a chair next to Harvey. She could tell he was worried, yet he tried not to let it be seen. "Mike will be okay; he's a strong kid."

"Yeah." Yeah, I know he is.

They waited for at least another twenty minutes before Harvey's name was called.

"Harvey Specter," the doctor, known as Derek Morris, said as Harvey went up to him. "You're here for Mike Ross?"

"Yeah...how is he?"

"He's doing fine...actually better than fine."

"Really?" Donna said in surprise.

"But he passed out," Harvey frowned. It seemed so bad earlier.

"He regained consciousness a few minutes after we left you. And I wouldn't blame him, the pain was probably too much; his bruises are pretty horrible. That one musket ball created some damage."

"Like what?" Donna asked worriedly.

"Well, besides the bruising, we took an X-ray and there area a three cracked ribs as well as two broken ones. Luckily, there was nothing else internal that was hit. Unfortunately, you cannot simply fix a broken rib; they usually take a couple months to actually heal. So there will be lots of bed rest and medications. I'm prescribing him some over-the-counter medications that will need to be picked up," Dr. Morris looked down at his clipboard, taking out a pen and scribbling some things down. "Such as Naproxen; this will help decrease the pain and the swelling. I will also prescribe Acetaminophen for only if the pain gets worse or he starts to develop a fever. I also recommend that he stay with someone for a few days, just to make sure that there will be no complications or things that he won't be able to handle on his own."

"That'll be me," Harvey said without hesitation. Donna smirked. She knew he cared for the pup. "Perfect; here are some at home care instructions that should be followed as well as the prescription."

Harvey took the things, quickly skimming them before looking back up. "When can he leave?"

"Right now, actually. He's down the hall to the right in the recovery room. Just stop by the nurse's station on your way out to sign the discharge papers."

"Alright, thanks."

"You need anything else, just call." With that, Dr. Morris glanced down at his pager and excused himself.

Harvey inhaled deeply, rubbing his eyes.

"See, I told you he'd be fine."

Harvey rolled his eyes but smiled.

"You want me to stay?"

"You don't have to; I got the pup taken care of."

Donna smiled tiredly while placing a gentle hand on Harvey's bicep. "Alright. Keep me updated."

"You know I will."

Donna turned around, heading for the exit while Harvey followed Dr. Morris' directions and found the large room. There were a couple of other patients resting in the room, others awake with family members beside them. Scanning the area, he finally found his associate near the end of the room. And he looked in pain. He frowned and went over, stopping at the end of the kid's bed. Mike looked like he was constipated; his face was scrunched up, his breaths were short, and his hand was gently clutching his injured side. What was worse, though, were the bruises. The nurses had taken Mike's shirt off and he could see that Dr. Morris wasn't kidding about how bad they were. How could something so small create a huge bruise like that? Nearly most of Mike's upper torso was cloaked in black, yellow, purple, and blue contusions.

"Damn kid, you never do things half-way do you?"

Instantaneously, Mike's eyes snapped open and he tried to sit up as he recognized the voice.

"Har- ah! Bad idea, bad idea."

"Lay back down before you hurt yourself even more, genius."

Mike obeyed without argument, settling back against the pillows and taking some deep breaths.

"God, it hurts so much."

"They didn't give you pain meds?" Harvey said, his anger building. What kind of doctors don't give their patients pain medications when they are clearly in pain.

"N-No...they...they wanted t-to...told them no."

"And why is that? How idiotic do you have to be or do you have a fetish for pain?"

Mike chuckled, but stopped short when it jarred his injuries. "They make...make me loopy. Need to be...focused f-for work when we go...go back to the office."

"You must be high to think you're going back to work, kid."

Mike frowned. "What? Why?"

"Umm, because your broke ribs. The doctor said you need to rest. Now, I'm gonna get the nurse to give you some of your beloved drugs and then you're going to sleep like a baby, got it?"

Mike groaned. "Geez, your always so bossy." He closed his eyes. "But you are the boss."

"Good. Now lay here and be a good puppy."

Five minutes later, Harvey was wheeling a loopy Mike outside and to the car.

"How're you doing, kid?"

"Awesome."

Harvey smirked as he helped Mike into the car. Within seconds, Ray drove away from the hospital and towards the nearest pharmacy. While Harvey was looking over the papers Dr. Morris gave him, Mike was staring into oblivion, a dazed smile on his face. He felt so. Damn. Good right now. He was glad Harvey made him take the medication.

"Hey, Harv?"

The older lawyer looked up as the car pulled to the side of the rode at the pharmacy."

"What kid?"

"I love you, man. You are so...cool." Mike slapped the older man's arm playfully.

Harvey rolled his eyes and folded the instruction paper, tucking it in his suit while unbuckling with the prescription slip in hand. "Stay here, I'll be right back...and don't chew on the seats." With that, Harvey opened the door and went inside the shop. He was in and out in three minutes; getting back in the car, he tossed the pills to Mike.

"Here are your candies." But when he got no response, he frowned and looked over at his associate. The kid was out cold against the window, his breath fogging up the glass. Harvey sighed; now he was gonna have to carry the kid inside. He prayed it wouldn't come to that...but at least Mike wasn't in pain anymore. That's what mattered.

~+SUITS+~

"Mike...Mike, wake up." Harvey shook his associate's shoulder, but nothing happened. "Geez kid, lightweight, much?" No response. Great, now he really was gonna have to pick him up. Well, he guessed it was his fault since he made Mike take the drugs before they left. Sighing heavily, he ran a hand down his face.

"Do you need help with him, sir?" Ray said, a small smile on his face.

Harvey chuckled. "I know it's not in your job description, but yes."

The two got out and maneuvered Mike from the seat before hanging each arm around their shoulders. They dragged Mike into the elevator and then down the hall to Harvey's condo.

"I got it from here, Ray," Harvey said, fishing the keys out of his pocket.

"Are you sure, sir?"

"Yeah...and take the rest of the day off; I don't think I'll be going to work tomorrow...or today." Whatever the hell it was.

"Alright." The driver helped Harvey take hold of Mike before disappearing back into the glass elevator. Now it was all Harvey.

"Okay kid, take it easy on the burgers," he joked. Actually, he was surprised on how light Mike was. It was pretty disturbing. He wondered if his associate ate at all. Pushing that concern back for a later date, he hitched Mike higher up onto his hip while opening the door and heading inside, shutting the door with his foot. And after a few grumbles and muffled swears, Mike was in the guest bed, looking younger than ever. Harvey exhaled before slipping off Mike's shoes, moving the kid's legs under the covers and then bringing the blanket up to his shoulders.

"God, the things I do for you kid." Running his fingers through his hair, Harvey left the room, heading for the alcohol cabinet. After pouring himself a glass of scotch, he downed the burning liquid in one gulp. Two in the morning and he was drinking...but, god, he needed that. He had a few more glasses before he went to his couch and stretched out on it, flicking the TV onto a football game. He wanted to sleep, he desperately did, but he had to give Mike the pills in five hours so he couldn't close his eyes now. But having four cups of scotch added to exhaustion was recipe for passing out. And no matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes open, he lost the battle with unconsciousness and fell into a deep state of sleep.

He wasn't exactly sure what had woken him up, whether it was the sun shining through the windows, his uncomfortable position on the couch or the alarm that he could hear all the way from his room, but he knew that something was wrong. Wiping his eyes and sitting up, Harvey looked at his watch. 0700am. And as he was trying to remember what he was supposed to do, he heard a pained groan come from the guest room...then it all came back to him.

"Shit." He jumped from the couch and ran to where Mike was. What he saw made him mentally slap himself. Mike face was covered in a thin layer of sweat while it was creased in pain. One hand grasped his ribs while the other was grabbing the blanket so vise-like that his knuckles were white. It was obvious to see that the drugs have worn off.

"Dammit...just hang on kid." He quickly went into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of acetaminophen, filling a glass with water and rushing back into the room. He placed them both down on the nightstand; now was the task of waking the kid up.

"Mike," he placed a comforting hand on Mike's shoulder, shaking it gently. "Mike, wake up."

His associate whimpered, but finally his eyes peeled open, staring painfully at his boss.

"H-Harvey? Oh god...why does it hurt so much?"

"You haven't taken your pills yet." Because I forgot to give them to you. He felt so bad for causing Mike to be in pain. "I'm gonna help you sit up and this'll all be over soon once you take them, okay?"

"Mm hmm," Mike grimaced. Harvey slowly helped Mike into a sitting position before taking two pills out of the bottle and handing them and the water to his associate. Mike took them quickly, swallowing them both and washing them down with the liquid. Once he was done, he passed the cup back to Harvey and laid back down. "St-Still hurts."

"Just wait, kid. The pain isn't gonna stop as soon as they reach your stomach. Give it a minute."

Mike clenched his eyes shut, as his ribs and bruises pulsed angrily. In a few minutes, Mike's quick, labored breathing started to get deeper and slower. The pain lines began receding and the grip on the pillow relaxed.

Harvey smirked. "Better?"
Mike sighed in content. "Much."

"Good; get some sleep. It's bed rest for the next week. I'll tell Jessica."

"W-What about the museum and Clint?"

"We'll talk about it later, kid."

"Okay."

Harvey smiled and turned to leave when he felt a weak grip on his wrist.

"Thanks Harvey."

"I just gave you pills; nothing special."

Mike rolled his eyes with a tired smile. "Harvey-"

"Yeah, I know what you meant...your welcome."

Letting go of the man's wrist, Mike settled into the pillows and was out within seconds.

Typical. Harvey made sure no light would get through the shades before heading for the door. After shutting it quietly, he thought about it; this is what it felt like to be a big brother taking care of his little brother...and though he'd never admit it, he kind of liked it. Again, he'd never admit to that because people knew he "didn't care." And Mike would never let him hear the end of it if he did.

FIN

A/N: Hope you liked it! REVIEWS + PROMPTS. Also, I'm not sure how much information about the muskets/musket ball and the injuries are correct. Hopefully they're as accurate as they can be :)

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