Again, you guys know I love each and every single review :D This chapter is dedicated to everyone who was affected by Hurricane Irene; even though it wasn't exactly the biggest of hurricanes (I don't think) I know there was quite a bit of damage, and I have several reviewers without electricity :P I hope you're all find and dandy :D
Oh, and this was inspired by she. a. punk - I LOVED your idea :D
Harvey looked out of his window with his hands in his pockets. He often did this on mornings. After collecting any mail from Donna (And maybe a coffee if he hadn't had time to get his own) he would go into his office, shuffling through it whilst stood in front of his large window. He loved the view, and for some reason was almost humbled by it. Many - such as Louis - would feel more powerful or rich; the view of many other New Yorkers going to work, whilst he was stood in a skyscraper overlooking them. They were so small, so insignificant in his life. But Harvey personally like the view because it reminded him of where he started, and he was grateful for this view every day.
He remembered Mike's reaction to the view; and every one since the first. Every time Mike looked out of that window there was a small gasp, or a faint "wow..." as his associate gazed down, and across the city. Every time that happened Harvey smirked to himself, as Mike had been having the same reaction for about 3 months now.
Shaking his head and putting all of these thoughts to one side, he continued to flick through his mail, meandering over to his desk to use his silver letter opener. Mike preferred ripping envelopes open with his hands, but to Harvey, nothing beat smoothly opening it, the envelope still crisp and without the small scraps of paper that Mike seemed to leave every time he opened one.
"Harvey," Donna stood at his door, looking extremely agitated. "Mike's phone is calling your extension."
Harvey raised his eyebrow. The odd wording made him uneasy. "Why isn't he calling my cell?"
"It's not him on the other end," Donna told him quickly, walking over and pressing the button to let Harvey hear the other end.
"Is this Harvey Specter?" The deep voice was definitely not Mike, and for some reason all Harvey could think of was the scenario Mike had been forced into, having a kidnapper's demand money or they would kill Trevor.
"Yes, who is this?" He asked, answering a question with a question.
"Mr Specter, my name is Dr Ray Simois at New York Downtown Hospital; my patient is a Mr Michael Ross - do you know him?"
Harvey swallowed to stop some bile rising in his throat. "Yes - is he okay?"
"Paramedics were called to an alley outside the Rickling Rehabilitation and Nursing Centre," that name struck a chord with Harvey, and he remembered that was where Mike's grandmother lived. "They arrived to find Michael unconscious and with what look like beatings."
"How is he now?" Harvey asked, buttoning his jacket and grabbing his cell - wincing to find he already had one missed call from Mike's phone.
"We should have him stable now; he's got quite a severe concussion, one of his arms is broken and he has fractured two ribs. I suppose he was lucky, all things considered. We informed his grandmother as she is listed next of kin; however since she is now living at the Rickling it is impossible for him to stay with her."
"How did you know to call me?" Harvey asked.
There was a pause, and Harvey could swear there was a small chuckle, and imagined Dr Simois smiling. "He woke up briefly as he was brought on and told us he needed to call you. Said you'd be pissed as hell to find out he was injured through a paramedic or a note. I hope you don't mind that I'm calling."
"That kid," Harvey muttered, half to himself. "I'm coming down now, Doctor, thank you," he ended the call and looked over to Donna. "Cancel anything I have on today."
She tutted. "Your clients are going to think you have more important things to do with your time than help them."
Harvey smirked at her and left. As much as he wanted to tell her that he did, he couldn't imagine the look on her face if he admitted it.
Mike felt as though his eye lids were too heavy for him. He groped slightly at the bedcovers and winced as the bones in his hand rebelled. His head honestly felt like it would break off in two and then his brain would leak through his ears. It was an almost welcome image, he thought sluggishly, imagining the warmth his smooth brain would give, flowing from his head... He squeezed his eyes tightly, hoping that was just an effect of the meds. He really didn't want to find out he had brain damage. Although that guy with the pipe must have given him a spectacular bruise on his jawbone. And a skull fracture to go with it... maybe some wiring had been required to fit his jaw back together? Because right now it hurt like hell.
His other hand squeezed into a fist and heard a crackling. He peeked his eyes open and pulled his hand up - thankfully this one didn't hurt that much - to see a peice of notepaper in his palm. He slowly opened it, reading slowly as the room seemed to wave around in front of him.
I don't know how you manage to get into these situations; all you were doing was visiting your grandmother! How is that dangerous? And don't think that just because you were passed out somewhere means that I can't shout at you for not TELLING me you were passed out somewhere. I've been sat here for the past HOUR. If you wake up and I'm not here, chances are I've found something important to do - which basically means anything else that doesn't consist of me sat in this room listening to that damn annoying heart moniter.
Mike tried to figure out just how exactly that note was meant to mean something. He usually understood any note that Harvey left, so he blamed the more than likely brain damage. He was definitely feeling tired though. But, ever the loyal puppy, he felt that he owed Harvey a note back. Thankfully, there was a pad of notepaper and a pen on the bedside table, and he could slowly write a message back. He had just laid it down on the table before his eyes rolled up and he passed out again.
Harvey stretched as he re-entered the hospital room. Not much had changed since he had gone to get coffee, but he saw that Mike was clutching the note that Harvey himself had left. He gently went over to tug it out of his associate's hand, not feeling the need to leave it there anymore. However, as he did so, he noticed a pen and notepad resting on the table that he hadn't noticed before. He picked it up and his eyes widened as he realised that Mike had woken up when he had been gone.
You don't need to stay, Harvey, I'm fine here - mostly sleeping. Do you think a (Harvey smirked as he saw that the word 'concussion' had been spelt wrong several times before simply being crossed out) head injury is supposed to hurt as much as it does? If you could kill me when you get back that would be heavily appreciated...
It was a short message, and the writing was a scrawled mess, Mike's words sprawling out all over the page. Harvey wasn't sure if he should inform a doctor or a nurse that their patient had woken up; for however brief a time.
He decided to press the call button anyway, and the friendly nurse who had shown him where Mike's room was in the first place came back in. "You alright?" He asked.
"Yeah, but I think the kid woke up while I was gone," Harvey told him.
The nurse (Lyle, Harvey read on his badge) gave Mike a quick check. "That's good; his concussion will be giving him hell though, the pain meds we were giving him should probably make him sleepy and pretty out of it."
Harvey nodded and thanked him, settling down in the chair for what he assumed would be a long wait.
The second time Mike woke up, he gazed around dazedly. They must have drugged him up pretty well, because he couldn't really feel much. He hoped that was a good thing, and that it was deliberate rather than he'd severed some nerves. He could see that it was nearing dusk outside, and he winced as he looked around the room, his neck aching. He paused as he saw there was still a jacket on the seat near his bed.
"H'vy?" He whispered, his voice broken and soft as he hadn't used it in a while. He guessed that Harvey had left again, and he nearly jumped as his hand yet again curled around a piece of paper.
I swear if you wake up again and are reading this I'm going to kick your ass. How bad can your timing be? I've had to go to the office; visiting hours are over. I'll come back soon, I just needed to grab some files.
Mike was feeling more awake than he had done the previous time, and decided to make the most of it by writing another note back, hoping that the painkillers wouldn't wear off before he was done. This time, as he carefully laid the notepad down, he settled back, determined not to go to sleep. He felt slightly light-headed, but was determined not to go to sleep before Harvey came back - after all, his jacket was still there, he can't have gone for long.
It was like when he was small, and he had tried to wait up to watch for Santa. He had inevitably fallen asleep. He chuckled slightly, imagining Harvey dressed as Santa. He hoped they had dressing up parties at the firm occasionally...
Harvey decided to stay at the hospital for as long as it would take. He just wanted to see for himself that Mike wasn't brain dead. That was it. He didn't want a brain dead associate. That would reflect poorly on him. The notes weren't enough.
Speaking of, he groaned as he saw Mike had indeed woken since he'd been gone.
Aw, Harvey I didn't know you cared - my timing is awesome, it's almost like I'm avoiding you intentionally :P And please, we both know that visiting hours wouldn't stop you. You were just bored of looking at me for so long; which is really creepy so please; if I'm asleep stop staring. You know what's nice? That you felt the need to reassure me that you were coming back - and it's hardly like you were gone for long, you left your jacket.
There was then a picture of a hastily drawn Santa, which Mike had labelled with 'Harvey'. The older man shook his head, deciding he really needed to stay now, because he still wasn't sure how brain dead Mike was.
However, it was now instinct to write a note back, and Harvey found that it passed the time if he just wrote stuff down, making notes. And it wasn't as if the staff would get him to leave now. It's not as if Mike would ever have to read this note.
When Mike woke for the third time, he noticed several things. One - no matter that he had a catheter in; he was sure he needed to pee. Two - there was a Harvey in the chair next to him, and Three - said Harvey was asleep.
At least he thought it was a catheter... Mike looked at the various tubes around him and assumed he had imagined it. He had an IV, and some other kind of drip, but nothing that resembled a catheter. Which now meant he had to go to the bathroom.
Good thing the drugs hadn't worn off.
He quickly shook his head (resulting in dizziness) and thought about more pressing matters - such as the fact that Harvey was asleep in the chair next to him. He looked really peaceful, Mike mused, slowly pushing himself up. His ribs were twinging uncomfortably, but the slow build-up of pressure on his bladder wasn't easy to ignore. He managed to stand up, and grabbed the pole with the IV's on, dragging them slowly across to a small door within the room that he hoped was a bathroom.
Thinking that'd deal with the sleeping Senior Partner later, he looked across to see he had a note in his hands. Mike slowly peeled it out of Harvey's grasp and saw that it was quite long, so he decided to just take it into the bathroom with him.
After he had done his business and washed his hands, he felt dizzy for a second, and hastily pushed the toilet seat and lid down so he could sit on it for a while. He decided now was a good a time as any to read Harvey's note.
Seriously? I could only have been gone for about 20 minutes. You must have woken up just after I left and fallen asleep just as I was coming back. And don't try and read into my notes, kid - none of that had any sort of 'caring' tone in it; and I don't care what you say, you can't read tones. I've just had to go and get some files for the new case I was going to tell you about before you were mugged; were you mugged? Or were you just beaten up? If you tell me it was a ten year old girl I will be a) unsurprised and b) ready to kick your ass myself.
Mike chuckled - Harvey must have been getting tired. Although it sounded like a normal Harvey note, Mike could tell that the older man was about to talk about the files he had gotten before getting side tracked with Mike's mugging.
Oh and Donna's worried. Apparently. She probably just hated having to deal with all those other associates who HAD degrees at the interviews. So if you die, she is going to be VERY pissed, and I don't care if you're dead or not, you aren't going to want a pissed off Donna after you. These files I have; I need you to research into the background of Richard Colt, he's an investor into the Global...
There was more - there was lots more, and it was all work-related stuff of things Mike needed to do when he got better. He couldn't be bothered reading it now, because he'd be thinking about it constantly, and he was now very tired of being sat on a toilet lid in a small room. He wanted to go back to bed, however uncomfortable he thought it was, it would be like lying on a cloud after sitting on this cold porcelaine.
He did notice a small note right at the end of Harvey's speech though,
You wake up again and I'm not there, it'll be because you're dreaming. I'm not leaving until I actually talk to you - and NO, this is NOT caring. I can't have a brain damaged associate.
Mike smiled; he didn't care what Harvey said, he could see caring in that. He decided to heave himself off the toilet and opened the door silently, so as not to wake Harvey. His jaw dropped as he saw that Harvey wasn't actually there anymore. His jacket was there, but Harvey himself was gone.
You know what? Mike thought to himself, climbing slowly back into bed. I don't care. I'm too tired.
When Harvey woke up, he first noticed that his neck was stiff after a few hours in an uncomfortable position on a chair.
He then noticed that Mike wasn't in bed. All thoughts of a stiff neck and tiredness forgotten, Harvey leapt to his feet. He was smart enough to not just yell, "Mike?" in the hopes that Mike was still in the room. And he wasn't worried either. Nope.
He was suitably concerned. If Mike was walking around then that would prolong his recovery, and Harvey needed him back at work soon. That was it. He left the room, hoping to see the young man stood out there, one hand wrapped around the IV pole and the other moving slowly as he chatted animatedly with a nurse. There was no one on the corridor. Harvey felt himself getting more worried - an emotion that he hadn't felt in regards to another person for quite a while. Well; that's not true, he could feel it towards Donna or Jessica, but he'd never been this agitated.
"Excuse me, the patient in this room; Mike Ross? He's gone," Harvey grabbed the first person in uniform he found.
"Sir, calm down," the person - a janitor, when Harvey looked properly. "Look, I've been doing my rounds and I haven't seen anyone in a patient's robe around this corridor," the man stepped back from Harvey and slowly picked up the mop he had dropped when Harvey had surprised him.
Harvey walked back to Mike's room; to get his jacket, and was met with an odd sight. Mike was back in bed. Harvey knew he wasn't dreaming, and he knew he wasn't mad. Where the hell had he been?
"You idiot," Harvey said, quite loudly. "Where did you go? You think if you just slip off no one will notice?"
"Did you notice?" He jumped as Mike cracked one eye open.
"It's hard to miss," Harvey snarled, still trying to get his heart rate under control. "Where did you go?"
"Bathroom," Mike said quietly. "I got caught up reading your note."
Harvey growled at him and walked over, placing a gentle hand on Mike's shoulder, a walking antithesis considering how angry he looked. "You trying to give me grey hairs?"
"At least they aren't falling out," Mike pointed out tiredly, his eyes closing some more. "You don't want to end up like Louis."
"I'd buy a wig," he muttered, not really realising that he was talking as Mike succumbed to sleep. He pulled the covers up and smoothed them down.
A shadow fell over the room and Harvey turned to see the janitor again. "You find your son?" He asked with concern.
Harvey seemed to bristle slightly at this and replied, "He's not my - " He glanced down as Mike dozed. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I found him."
A/N D'awww :) Right? Riiight? *silence* There wasn't as much note-writing in there as I'd have liked, but I don't think they'd have been able to miss each other THAT much XD So yeah, tell me what you think - and just as a warning; I got a weird idea for the next chapter that is quite... I suppose it's crack. I'll explain more in the note at the beginning of that one, but it isn't... normal XD