Erm…hello, everyone…remember me? *coughs nervously* I'm really sorry that I dropped off the face of the earth for the past like…3 months. But the semester from hell is finally over! Probably nobody cares that much lol but I got a new job where they give me waaaaay too many hours a week and juggling that and school work left me with almost no free time to write. And then I got in two car accidents in one weekend and…it was just kind of a mess. But I don't have school until the beginning of February so hopefully I can write lots during the interim! Thanks for sticking with me—I'm always amazed when I see that people are still favoriting and following this story. Y'all are the best!

This chapter is a little shorter, but I just wanted to get something out there. It's a two-parter, so stay tuned!

Mike's age: 21

Chapter 10: Finding Common Ground (Part 1)

Well I fell down, down, down into this dark and lonely hole

There was no one there to care about me anymore

From "Clouds" by Zach Sobiech

Life at Pearson Specter was…different after everyone found out that Harvey was Mike's adoptive father. It had been a few months, and Mike still wasn't quite sure if things had changed for better or for worse. On one hand, all the other associates were terrified of Harvey, so that meant that people like Chase couldn't do anything blatantly mean to him anymore. But on the other hand, the teasing and pranks had picked up—it was all stuff that Mike could easily dismiss one or two times, but it all built up after awhile, and it was getting to the point where he dreaded walking into the bullpen because he never knew what stupid thing Chase and his cronies were up to. It was incredibly annoying, but he could deal with it. There were other parts of his life at work that were bothering him much more than some dumb teasing from a bunch of guys whose crowning achievement was winning Louis over by cat-sitting on weekends.

But at least he was twenty-one now and he could legally drink his sorrows away. His birthday had been about two months prior in early October, and he'd allowed Sam and Kate to drag him out to the bars after work for drinks. They'd made it their personal mission to get him as drunk as possible, and Harvey had wound up having to come pick him up at three in the morning when he got kicked out of the bar for 'deciding to take a nap on the pool table for a few minutes.' But Harvey had been nice about it since it was his twenty-first birthday. Even his fellow associates had been nice enough to all chip in and buy him a card—granted, the card had said "Happy 12th birthday!" on the front instead of "Happy 21st birthday!" (something that Chase claimed was just an unfortunate mistake), but Mike wasn't one to look a gift card in the mouth.

To be honest the area of his life that had suffered the most since the news had gotten out was his relationship with Harvey, of all people. At home everything was normal—the two of them moved just as comfortably around the apartment as they always had, joking around and watching football and drinking beer together. But at work things were…weird.

Mike had seen it happen before plenty of times in his days of playing Little League—for the kid whose dad was the coach of the team, things could get a little tense sometimes. It seemed like these dads either went one of two ways: either they thought that their child was the star of the team and always let them play whatever position they wanted and pinch hit all the time, or they were extra hard on their child and constantly criticized their technique so that it didn't look like they were playing favorites. In this case, Harvey was the dad who was trying extra hard not to play favorites.

It had started out slowly, but it was now at the point where Mike couldn't even stand in the same room as Harvey at work without Harvey biting out some kind of criticism—maybe he hadn't cited something properly ("I said APA formatting, not MLA!"), or he'd forgotten to research or a particular clause (okay, that had only happened one time, and it was the morning after his 21st birthday, which meant that it didn't count in Mike's opinion), or his tie was too skinny (which seemed unfair, because Harvey had bought him all of his ties). One time Harvey had even yelled at him for the font that he'd used to type up a memo—Mike's initial response had been to laugh, because the idea of Harvey complaining that a font hurt his eyes seemed like a joke—but then he'd just gotten yelled at some more for 'being unprofessional.'

Mike was still trying to figure out where on earth all of this harsh treatment was coming from—it had all started after Mike had revealed their relationship in front of the entire batch of associates (which hadn't even been his fault—keeping secrets with a concussion was hard work!). Mike could only figure that Harvey was worried about it seeming like he was playing favorites, and he could understand that. It would be unprofessional for a managing partner to favor his son over the other associates.

But sometimes, it felt personal. He knew it was a little ridiculous and that he shouldn't be so insecure, but part of him was afraid that Harvey was disappointed in him now that he'd been working at Pearson Specter for a few months. Maybe Harvey had been expecting more from him or had been hoping that Mike would turn out to be a better lawyer than he currently was. Mike was trying his best but he was still learning. He tried to remind himself that Harvey was just being gruff at work for appearance's sake, but there was always a little doubt niggling at some corner of his mind.

It was beginning to affect their relationship at home now too. Mike could deal with Harvey ignoring him at work—he understood that that was necessary to a degree in order to maintain a professional relationship. Mike couldn't just go running around and chatting about the basketball game that they were going to watching that night while they were in the office. He wasn't dumb; he knew that.

But now it just seemed like Harvey was purposefully picking on him. He knew that in reality Harvey wasn't being that much harder on him than he was on all the other associates—but it was different for the two of them. They weren't just boss and employee, they were also father and son. And it seemed that Harvey was able to distance those two roles very easily while they were at work, but Mike had a much harder time—so much of their relationship had been built here in this building when Mike was a young teenager, and now Mike found it difficult to reconcile the new Harvey-at-work with his Harvey, who had taken him under his wing back when he was just an untrusting, lonely orphan.

It hurt that Harvey was able to be so dismissive and brusque at work and then act like nothing was different at home. Mike had started going out more with Sam and Kate and the other associates after work because he found that he was angry at Harvey and didn't want to be at home. He didn't want to be angry, but he was. Every time Harvey called him out for something trivial at work, he wanted to scream "you're not being fair! You know I was up late last night worrying about the new tests they're going to run on Grammy!"

But then he'd just get in trouble for being unprofessional.

Harvey seemed to be oblivious to how this was affecting Mike. He'd overheard Donna lecturing Harvey a few times and had seen her glare over at Harvey from her desk whenever he receiving a particular scathing comment. Even Louis had come to Mike's defense once or twice.

It was getting out of hand, and Mike knew it wasn't long before the ice was going to crack and he was going to push right back at Harvey.

When it happened, it really happened.

Mike was having a bad day—first he overslept and didn't have time to do much more than shower and run out the door. This meant that he hadn't gotten to drink any coffee, which meant that he was essentially a walking zombie. Everything was a blurred, tired haze in his mind, and he just wanted to go home and eat a poptart or five and then nurse a warm cup of coffee until he dozed off on the couch. But instead, he had to start his day with an unhealthy-looking stack of folders that Louis tossed on his desk on his way in, warning him that he'd be restricted to housing court for a month if he didn't finish them all by eleven.

Then Donna had come by, an apologetic look on her face as she noticed Mike staring mistrustfully at the huge stack of folders, trying to rustle up the courage to open one and start working.

"Sorry, honey," she said, placing a brief on his desk that had to be at least four hundred pages. "Those will have to wait. Harvey really needs this done by lunch." She looked like she was barely refraining from smoothing the hair from his forehead. Maybe it would be nice if she did—his forehead was so tired. Could foreheads be tired?

Mike shook his head numbly. "Not gonna happen," he grunted. "Louis wants this stuff by eleven. Tell Harvey I'll have it done by five."

Donna pursed her lips and magically procured a cup of coffee from somewhere. "You look like you need this," she said, watching with a slightly disturbed look on her face as Mike snatched the cup from her hands and chugged about a third of it in one gulp. "Sorry, Mike. I'll tell him, but he won't like it. You know I'm on your side here, but…well, you've been around Harvey recently."

Mike heaved a sigh. "Tell him I'll do my best," he said. Donna smiled sadly at him and patted him on the shoulder.

"I'll tell him. I'll also tell him a few other things that have been on my mind recently," Donna said, and she seemed to be staring at the bags under Mike's eyes.

"Thanks, Donna," Mike smiled pathetically up at her before reaching out and taking the first folder off of Louis' stack with a slow, weary hand. Donna's heels clicked away, and Mike could tell by her rhythm that she was angry. Good. At least he had someone on his side today.

He worked as steadily as he could for the next few hours and just barely managed to finish all of Louis' folders by eleven. He was exhausted by this point—he'd been at the office well past midnight the night before, and the amount of paperwork he'd slogged through for Louis thus far was the equivalent of a normal day's work. But he only had an hour before Harvey wanted his brief edited, so he set to work as best as he could.

Noon ticked around, and Mike was still reading and scribbling furiously, not even halfway done. He knew that he was doing a sloppy job and rushing, but he didn't have time to be meticulous. He knew he had no hope of actually finishing by noon, and he knew that it was a daring move to directly ignore Harvey's orders and do Louis' work first. Harvey was Louis' boss, after all. But Mike was just done. He was sick of Harvey picking on him at work, and he didn't care anymore.

That didn't stop his heart from beating a little faster with trepidation when he heard the familiar sound of Harvey's gait—even, with just a hint of a swagger—coming down the hall and entering the bullpen a few minutes after noon. Fortunately all the other associates were gone on their lunch break, so at least Chase and his cronies wouldn't be around to shoot spit wads at him or something similarly immature.

"Mike," Harvey's voice said, and Mike had to force himself not to jerk. He calmly met Harvey's gaze.

"Sorry, Harvey," he said, proud of how even his voice was. "I didn't finish it yet."

"I said I needed it at noon," Harvey said coolly, and for the first time in a very long time, Mike was furious with his father.

"Well, I already said that I didn't finish it," Mike snapped, not caring that he sounded like a mouthy fourteen-year-old. "So you're not going to get it at noon."

"Excuse me? Is that how you would talk to Louis or Jessica?" Harvey asked, frowning down at him.

Mike stood and stretched to his full height so that he could meet Harvey's eye line. "What is wrong with you?!" He exclaimed, not caring that his voice was raised far above polite office talk level. If Harvey lectured him on being unprofessional one more time—

"Excuse me?" Harvey repeated, his eyebrows rising dangerously. "When we are in this office, I am your boss. Would you talk to the managing partner like that if this wasn't your father's firm?"

"Why are you doing this?" Mike asked in frustration. "There aren't any other associates around right now for you to scare. I understand professionalism! And yeah, I have noticed that you're my boss. You only criticize me about fifteen times a day! I'm doing my best, Harvey."

"Mike, I can't act like you're my son while we're here. It has to be different from when you spent time here when you were younger or when we're at home. You know that," Harvey said firmly, apparently unwilling to even hear Mike's questions and complaints.

"You know what? Fine," Mike bit out angrily, thrusting the unfinished brief into Harvey's arms. "I'm done. You can finish your own stupid brief. You don't want me to act like your son? Fine. That won't be hard, because it's not like you've been acting like a father lately."

As soon as he said it, he knew he'd gone too far. They both stood there in shocked silence, Mike's harsh words lying between them like sharp knives. Harvey looked like he'd been punched in the gut, and Mike instantly felt guilty. He hadn't realized how angry he truly was until he'd begun talking. He was partly responsible for this—he should have talked to Harvey much sooner and let him know how badly this was bothering him before he let it simmer and get to this point.

But that didn't change the fact that part of him actually meant what he'd just said.

"Mike," Harvey croaked, his face uncharacteristically twisted with hurt.

"No," Mike breathed, suddenly unable to be in this space a minute longer. He didn't even like working at Pearson Specter anymore. Before it had been fun; stretching his mind and being a real lawyer like he'd always wanted. But Chase was still being an idiot and now his own father was treating him like he was a failure of a lawyer and a spoiled brat for wanting his dad to just be his dad like he used to.

Mike fled, belatedly grabbing his bag. He didn't know where he was going or what he was doing, and he allowed his feet to guide him blindly. He burst into the nearest bathroom, his stomach churning with guilt and anger and sadness. He leaned over the sink and splashed cold water over his tired face, his breath coming in odd little gasps. He wasn't sure if he was crying or if it was just water from the sink wetting his cheeks. He suddenly felt very, very young, and very un-ready to be working full-time as a lawyer.

The bathroom door opened and Chase sauntered in. Mike fought the urge to run or drown himself in the sink. Just the person he wanted to see at a time like this.

"Hey, Mike," Chase said with a smirk, taking in Mike's troubled expression. "Domestic dispute with your old man? You still live at home with him, right? Must be hard to have your boss reminding you to do your chores."

Mike was too tired to rise to the bait. "Shut up, Chase," he said uncreatively. "It's nothing to be ashamed of; 36% of millennials currently live at home with their parents," he recited dully, pushing past Chase and leaving the bathroom. Not his brightest comeback, but it would do.

He still wasn't sure exactly where he was going, but he obviously went the wrong way, because he ran into Louis. "Ah, Mike," Louis said, just as cheerfully oblivious as ever. "Just the man I was looking for. Will you take this patent to the courthouse for me? It needs to be there…five minutes ago. Thanks," he said hastily, dumping a manila envelope in Mike's hands and booking it away.

Mike sighed and decided to just take the damn patent like Louis had asked. It would probably do him some good to get out of the office, and it was just a short bike ride. Maybe that would help him clear his head.

It was cold and slick out, but Mike didn't mind. The cold air was refreshing to his flushed cheeks and hot anger. As he breezed up the court steps, he bumped into someone.

"Oh, sorry," he said automatically, reaching to steady whoever it was he'd carelessly knocked into. He was surprised that it was Karen Walsh, a prominent senior partner at the law firm Thomson and Sons, one of Pearson Specter's main competitors.

"Don't worry about it," she said kindly before recognition flashed in her eyes. "You're Mike Ross, aren't you? Pearson Specter's new golden boy?" Chase often called Mike the "golden boy" and he hated it, but Karen had a way of making it sound like a compliment. She smiled warmly at him and brushed a strand of gray hair away from her maternal face.

"I suppose that's me," he shrugged, always uncertain of how to react to being recognized for his intelligence.

"So modest!" She laughed. "You look tired. I bet they over-work you over there, huh?" She said sympathetically. "Well, if you ever get tired of working with your father, you're always welcome to come to us. Our recent crop of associates is a mess—one of them accidentally google-translated all of our case documents into Russian last week and then turned them in by mistake." Karen shook her head ruefully and Mike was surprised to find that a small laugh had bubbled out of his chest.

"I oversee the associates, so you know who to ask for if you're ever interested," Karen said, smiling at him again. "Anyway, I have to get going, but it was very nice to meet you, Michael."

"Thanks," Mike said distractedly as he shook her hand, an idea forming in his mind.

Maybe if he worked for a different law firm, things would stop being so strained between him and Harvey.

"Hi, Jessica," Mike said, fumbling slightly as he closed her office door. He'd always been intimidated by the regal woman, even though he'd known her for seven years now. Now that he was an employee, he didn't quite know how to act around her.

"Hello, Mike," she greeted him kindly. "Come have a seat," she said, motioning to the chair in front of her impressive desk. He sat nervously, struggling to maintain eye contact with her. She had this way of looking at him that made him feel like she was x-raying his very soul; that she knew everything that he was thinking about was already five steps ahead of his own thought process.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me," he said politely.

"Of course. Now what was on your mind?" She asked, leaning back comfortably in her chair and examining him closely.

Mike took a deep breath, hardly able to believe what he was about to say. "I want to submit my resignation. I've been offered a job at Thomson and Sons by Karen Walsh, and I want to take it."

Jessica's eyebrows shot up. "Well, I must admit that that was not what I was expecting," she said.

He wasn't sure if he considered it an accomplishment or not that he'd manage to dumbfound Pearson Specter's most unflappable partner.

To be continued...

I know that I'm really mean for disappearing for three months and then reappearing only to drop a cliffhanger, but I promise I won't leave you guys hanging for too long and all shall be explained! So...yeah, that's it. Hopefully there's people out there still reading this *cricket sounds*