So this chapter deals with Harvey finding out about Trevor and what he's going to do him about it is the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Suits.


Mike didn't remember walking out of the hall. Mike didn't remember walking to the train. Mike didn't remember going home but here she was. She closed the door behind her, leaning back against the cool metal. She sighed and let her chin fall against her chest, breathing deeply. She pushed herself off the door and moved to the kitchen. She was hungry. She absently pulled out all sorts of food from her pantry; Doritos, pretzels, white chocolate…

Shit. Mike threw the food against the counter and dug her hands into her shaggy blonde tresses. These were all her munchie foods that she ate after she would get high, with Trevor. Her hands trembled as she pulled them away from gripping at the roots of her hair. She needed to get to her phone, now. She staggered across the room, the panic gripping at her heart, her head beginning to hurt. She tripped over her heels but caught herself before she fell. She frantically took the shoes off her feet and threw them across the room, not breaking anything thank god. She grabbed her phone, fingers shaking as she unlocked the device. She pressed her finger on the picture for her contacts list and started scrolling down. If she stuck to her contact list then she wouldn't be tempted to type in Trevor's number. Her eyes flickered at the pictures and names debating their use to her and quickly realizing that she needed more friends.

Ben— he was away at a techie thing, he couldn't help her.

Donna Paulsen—no she wouldn't want to be disturbed; it was Friday; no one bothered Donna on a Friday night and lived to tell the tale.

Harold Jakowski— possible choice but the other blonde added more panic to a situation than deterred it.

Her eyes glossed over the next name and her breath hitched.

Harvey Specter…

Her mind tried to come up with a point of contention against calling but what she was left with was him pleading with her; "Call me". He told her to when she needed comfort…and damn it all, she needed that comfort. Her thumb brushed against the screen hesitantly, lightly glossing over her boss' name. She wanted to push it, then again, she didn't. Her phone obviously decided to go against her, connecting the call between her and Harvey. She placed the phone to her ear and hoped that it would go to voicemail. For once her wish came true.

"This is Harvey Specter. Leave a message." The deep voice commanded.

The phone beeped and Mike took a sigh. "Harvey, its Mike. You told me to call if I needed you for something…and I do…I'm falling from the penthouse and I don't know what to do…" She sighed again and hung up the phone, berating herself for even beginning to leave the message. She pressed the disconnected button and fell to the floor, covering her head with her hands as her tears finally fell.

Harvey sipped at his drink while his date twittered away about something. Harvey couldn't be bothered with listening, not when the woman was such a fine specimen to look at. And Harvey was looking. He smirked when the woman indicated something to him about whatever she was talking about. Then he retreated back into his mind, slowly thinking about how he was going to maneuver the woman to coming back with him to his apartment. Those thoughts were cut when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He groaned loudly, startling the woman from her story. He quickly stopped his face from falling into a wimpy look as he tried to take his phone from his pocket.

"It's a voicemail. It might be my boss. Excuse me," he told her putting the phone to his ear after calling his voicemail. After the computerized you have one message voice another replaced it, definitely human and definitely not Jessica.

"Harvey, its Mike. You told me to call if I needed you for something…and I do…I'm falling from the penthouse and I don't know what to do…" The message said. Mike's voice was a shell of its usual self; scared and whispery. She was terrified of something and he had a feeling that the something was a former friend who ratted her out to Jessica for being a fraud. The penthouse line was what gave him that feeling remembering what he told the male form that ran out of the courthouse that day to save the douchebag. He suddenly stood up.

"That was my boss. I have to cut out." He said to his companion quickly, buttoning his jacket.

"That's okay. I'll leave you my number." The woman said cutely, taking out a paper with her number written on it. He took it from her with a smirk before turning away from the table. He discreetly dropped it on a dirty table while pressing a number in his contacts list.

"Ray, I need you to pick me up. It's urgent." He said into the phone pushing open the door to the restaurant.

He managed to make it to Mike's new apartment in record time. He crossed through the open door and made his way to the elevator, pressing the eight button and letting the doors close behind him. The ride was quick, thankfully and Harvey paced onto the floor, gliding over to the woman's door. He banged on the door and pressed his ear against it, listening for any movement. There was none. Harvey sighed before doing some quick thinking. He tapped a beat for Mike; a-shave-and-a-hair-cut…then he heard the lock unclick and the woman revealed herself. Harvey was quickly ushered in by the trembling woman.

After Harvey pulled his arm from Mike's tense grip he allowed himself a moment to get a feel for what was going on. Mike looked terrible; the growing strands of her hair were sticking up haphazardly, indicating she had been gripping at them and treating them with rough hands, her clothes looked wrinkled and manhandled; her face was pale, her lips pale, her blue eyes were darting this way and that way, paranoid. They looked glossy and red-rimmed and caused a bolt of anger to surge within Harvey.

"Are you high?" Harvey demanded of her. Mike trembling didn't cease as she took in the question.

"High? Oh no, god no Harvey…I'm not, you have to believe me I really am not." She babbled quickly, hoping that he would trust her. Harvey stepped closer to her and leaned in, taking a breath through his nose. He didn't smell anything.

"You're not." Harvey told her reassuringly. Mike slumped in relief that he wasn't mad at her anymore. He sighed and took her by the shoulders, feeling a little perturbed when she stiffened in his grasp. He guided her to the couch and set her down upon the upholstery. He then looked around to see where the opening to the kitchen was. He went to move away but felt her clammy hand grab his.

"Where are you going?" She asked frightfully, afraid he was leaving. Harvey sighed again to still his patience and patted her hand affectionately.

"Just to get you some tea, you look like you need it." He told her softly. Mike nodded and slowly, ever so slowly allowed him to remove his hand from hers. Harvey moved to the kitchen noting that it was close to the door; explaining why Mike thought he was going to leave her. He made sure to make as much noise as possible, to assure her that he was still in the apartment, but in reality he didn't know where anything was in her apartment. He opened cabinets and closed them again, trying to see where she kept her tea. He was quickly getting frustrated when he heard the pitter of bare feet across the tile. Mike emerged in her peripheral vision. He turned his head to look at her for a moment, noticing that she had begun to calm down, indicating his presence was having an effect on her.

"What are you doing?" She asked him quietly. Harvey gave a huff and turning himself fully to her.

"Looking for tea leaves." He told her irritably.

"I don't have that; I have tea bags." She said in a manner that suggested Harvey was asking for an ice cube in the Sahara. She pushed past him and lifted herself onto her toes, pulling out a box from a high shelf. She opened it and showed him that yes; she did indeed have tea bags.

"You plebian." Harvey insulted her taking the box harshly from her hand in disgust. Mike smiled a small smile, finding comfort in his slur. Harvey proceeded to take a mug from the cabinet; no way was he even considering drinking tea made from a tea bag. He filled it with…tap water…and the thought that crossed his mind was—hasn't she learned anything? He placed the cup in the microwave, already knowing she didn't own a kettle; the woman probably boiled water in her coffee maker for Christ's sake. The two lawyers waited in silence for two minutes while the water heated up. The machine beeped and Harvey gingerly took the cup, placing it on the counter. He stirred a good helping of sugar, knowing his associate liked the sweetness in her coffee therefore assuming that she took her tea the same way. The smile on Mike's face confirmed his suspicion. He placed the bag in the cup and moved it to the living room, Mike following like the analogized puppy she was. Mike sat back on the couch as Harvey took a place beside her, placing the cup gently on the table before leaning back next to her, not touching any part of her body. Harvey watched as Mike grabbed the cup, trying not to shake as she brought it to her mouth to take a hesitant sip. It must've been to her liking because she drank it gradually, letting her mouth adjust to the temperature.

It took Mike a while to finish the tea but it did the job it was meant to; Mike's face gained color slowly and she was shaking less and less. She placed the cup against flat surface of the table and leaned back. Harvey crossed his legs and waited.

"Thank you…I didn't think you would come." She told him honestly. "I mean, you told me to call if I needed you but…"

"I understand. Now spill." Harvey said extending his arm out in a gesture to get her to speak. Mike heaved a sigh and slumped forward.

"Trevor." She said simply looking at the ground. She didn't need to look at Harvey's face to know how it looked. She assumed, based on prior experience, that he was giving her that look— his brown eyes narrowed and his jaw tight; his cheeks quivering from the tenseness between his jaw and teeth; his nose flaring slightly as he steadied his breath to not yell at her.

"He's back?" He said quietly. Mike nodded.

"He was there. At the funeral." Mike told him.

"Why…oh, I forgot the imbecile went to school with you." Harvey answered his own question. Mike nodded again.

"Yeah…" She trailed off, wondering where to go from there. Harvey fortunately had that answer ready for her.

"So how did he react to seeing you?"

"He was shocked I was…a girl again…he told me that he was sorry again for telling Jessica and blamed it on the pot. He went to rehab in upstate New York and has been clean for eight months. He's back and if I wanted to reconnect our friendship, I should make the first move and call." Mike said, drawing circles in the carpet with her bare toe.

"You believed him?" Harvey asked her sharply. Mike looked at him.

"I…yes…maybe…I don't know…" She tried wearily. Harvey gave a scoff.

"Don't." Harvey ordered her. Mike gave a sharp laugh, humorlessly since the situation was anything but funny and stood up, pacing on her hardwood floor. Harvey followed her with his eyes

"So that's it? He comes back and apologizes and I ignore him?" she asked him incredulously continuing her pace across the floor.

"Mike you just had a panic attack from finding out he's here. You began to freak out because even after all this time, you're afraid that he'll worm his way in and overtake you again. If that's not a warning flag for you then it's a good thing I'm here."

"A piece of my heart will always be linked to Trevor. You can't change that." She told him stubbornly. Harvey rolled his eyes.

"Then that part of your heart will always end up broken." He commented scathingly, shrugging his shoulders.

"You don't think people can change?" She asked curiously.

"No." He said simply. Mike slowly shook her head in shock.

"What the hell made you so cynical?"

"It's just a part of my charming personality." Harvey leaned back smugly.

"Then…what was the point of hiring me?" She asked him, clearly hurt from her thoughts and for the umpteenth time since meeting the woman Harvey wished he could read her mind.

"What the hell are you going on about?"

"If people can't change, then maybe you shouldn't have hired me. Eventually by basal instincts will reemerge and I'll turn back to the pot." She explained sadly. Harvey sighed again.

"No, you won't, because smoking pot is not a part of your personality. Trevor's an asshole, has an inferiority-complex and takes great joy in destroying peoples' lives because his sucked. He's manipulative and consistently pulled you into dangerous situations that he seemed to come out of unscathed."

"Like what?" Mike asked defiantly, crossing her arms.

"Like what?" Harvey repeated. "Like the fact that it was his bright idea to get you to sell that math test and you lost your scholarship. You could've been a kick-ass senior associate at this point but no, Trevor stepped in and now you're a fraud, living a lie as a kick-ass associate. Trevor pulled you down, because he's an anchor. He pulled you down because if he didn't, you would've soared high above him and never look back to see if he was following." Harvey explained sharply. Mike looked down at the ground. "I was able to see that the minute that you told me about him. How can you even consider letting him back in your life after the debacle he caused a few months ago?"

"Because…he has no one left and neither do I." Mike admitted quietly, pulling her arms tighter around her midsection. "He was there when my parents died, and I needed him for Grammy…"

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did!" She exclaimed, her arms unraveling themselves and shoot out into the air around her, her voice piercing the dark room. "Yes, I admit, I would have still gotten high but, at least I would've had someone!" She cried out turning sharply away from him, feeling tears in her eyes. Harvey stood.

"You do, Mike, I'm here. You don't need him." Harvey said, placing his hands against her shoulders.

"I do…I do…" She cried softly. Harvey pulled the woman against his shoulder and let her cry against the fabric of his jacket. He maneuvered them to her bedroom and laid her down, pausing for a moment to remove his own shoes and climbed in next to her.

There was no sex that night. Harvey simply watched as Mike struggled to sleep next to him. She was out of it; she kept whimpering for Trevor, whispering his name and that she should call him. She needed him, she kept saying and Harvey, though loathe to admit it, felt a part of his chest tighten at her admission. Was he not good enough? He was a better friend that that scumbag was, complimented her personality better and would never hurt her intentionally. Why couldn't Mike see that? What did Trevor have that Harvey didn't? Mike shifted in her sleep and Harvey decided that she was deep enough that he could at least move without disturbing her—he knew from experience that she was a deep sleeper. Harvey sat up on the side of her queen sized bed and leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. He looked back at Mike, she finally looked peaceful but something was still niggling at the back of his mind and that bothered him.

He stood and moved out of the room while simultaneously taking out his phone and punching in a number. He held it to his ear and waited.

"Vanessa? Harvey. I need a favor." He said his voice serious.

He wanted answers and he was going to get them, one way or another, or his name wasn't Harvey Specter.


So review if you would because there's nothing more I like than hearing your thoughts.

KatrinaKaiba