Target: Part 3
Prompt for: Dragonplayer18: How about Mike and Harvey both get shot and Mike is more severely injured and the guy (old client, Trevor, whoever,) is still out there and Harvey gets a bit overprotective. I don't really care what happens at the end but it's just an idea.
Set in beginning of season 2
"So, we're celebrating right?" Mike asked, coming up next to Harvey after they parted ways with their client. "Please tell me we're celebrating or at least going out for drinks. We kicked ass on that one. Did you see the look on Ron's face when we brought in that surprise witness he thought he got rid of? Oh man, priceless."
Harvey smirked as they walked towards the exit. The kid had a point; they had worked on this case for almost a month. Had some long nights, many disagreements, very little sleep, and Harvey was sure his associate barely ate by the looks of him. Mike had proved his worth, maybe he underestimated the blonde sometimes…dare he say he was proud of him? He wouldn't say it out loud of course. He would never hear the end of it, plus the man would let it get to his head in the high of a win. He'd wait until later. Harvey opened the door and the two walked outside. It was only six in the evening, but now that it was getting closer to winter, it got darker faster.
"Fine, but you're buying the first two rounds and no getting drunk, we still have work to do tomorrow."
Mike rolled his eyes. "You're no fun."
"I'm not supposed to be fun," Harvey replied, glancing at his watch. "I'm your b-"
Bang!
Instant pain exploded through his shoulder and down his arm. He was thrown off his feet and onto the cement stairs.
"Harv-"
Bang!
Harvey blinked furiously as he heard car tires screech. He found himself staring up at the sky, wondering what the fuck just happened. Did he get shot? His shoulder was burning, and he could feel a warm wetness spread through his clothes. Groaning, he brought his hand up to his shoulder before lifting his head to inspect his fingers. Blood. Yep, he definitely got shot.
"Mike, call an ambulance," he grunted. When he received no response, though, he grew worried. "Mike." He tenderly rolled onto his side and his heart dropped. The haze clearing, he realized there had been two gunshots and his associate had been on the receiving end, too. The blonde was sprawled out on the landing behind him, eyes closed and unmoving. As Harvey dragged himself closer, he felt his mouth go dry. Mike's face was drained of all color, his lips a sickly white shade. His chest was rising and falling erratically with his strangled gasps and upon inspection, Harvey saw a hole about the size of penny burned into Mike's white button up. Except it was no longer white as dark crimson blood began blooming through the fabric. His chest, Mike had been shot in the fucking chest.
"No," he whispered, forcing himself to bear with his own pain and help his friend. Sitting up, he pressed his hands against the blonde's wounds, hoping for a reaction. A small whimper passed Mike's lips and his brow furrowed. "Hang on, kid. You're gonna be okay, just stay with me." He could hear sirens in the distance, and he thanked the heavens someone had called for help. Harvey increased his pressure, willing the blood to stop escaping between his fingers; Mike was a small guy, there was no way he should have this much blood. "Hey, open your eyes. Help is almost here, just look at me…please."
And maybe it was his rare use of the magic word, because that got the blonde's eyelids to flicker open. His blue eyes were dull and glassy…unseeing as they gazed up at the night sky. His breathing came out wet and choked. He was dying…fast.
"Mike!" He barked when the man's eyes started drooping. He cupped the blonde cheek, despite the blood that was coating it. "Hey, come on, eyes open." Where was that fucking ambulance? The sirens were getting closer, but it seemed like it was taking them an eternity to get to there.
"H-Har…" Mike wheezed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his body shuddering.
"Don't talk, just keep your eyes on me, alright? You're gonna be fine."
"H-Hurts."
"I know." He lifted his hand to inspect the wound. It was still bleeding profusely, and Harvey knew it was only a matter of time before his body lost too much to function. "Jesus Christ." He couldn't believe this was happening. "Guess I should be buying you drinks after this, kid," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. However, when he raised his head, he saw that the blonde's eyes were closed again, his head tilting to the left. Harvey's stomach churned.
"Mike?" He shook the man's shoulder before letting a hand hover over his slack mouth. Nothing. He had stopped breathing. "Mike! Come on, breathe…please breathe!" The pain in his shoulder and his own blood loss were starting to take a toll. His vision was tunneling, and his hands were going numb. "M-Mike, wake up." His eyes threatened to close, the world around him spinning and making him sick. "Mike…" the last thing he saw was his associate's bloodless face illuminated by blue and red lights before succumbing to his own injuries.
Three Days Later, 3:00pm
Harvey raised his head from the pillow when he heard a small groan come from the bed a few feet away from him. He muted the television and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of his own mattress. It had been three days since the two of them got shot in front of the courthouse and Mike had been unconscious for all of it. He, himself, had woken up four hours after he passed out to find that he'd already had surgery. He lost a lot of blood and was now sporting a sling. He'd been lucky…Mike, on the other hand, had not. The doctor had told him the kid died twice, once in the ambulance and once on the operating table. The bullet had grazed his heart, his left ventricle, according to the surgeon. Had it been just inches to the right… Harvey didn't even want to think about it. It had been touch and go for a while, needing a breathing and chest tube to keep him alive, but thankfully, he pulled through. Recovery would be tough, but Harvey was just glad he was okay. The cops had come in the next morning to get a statement and were combing street and security cameras to find the guy that did this. So far, there was no luck and Donna seemed to think it had something to do with this past case since it left a lot of people jobless and angry. She demanded that the two have protection until the guy was caught and so now there was a police officer standing outside the room.
"Mike?" He walked over and gripped the bedrail with his good hand, staring at his associate. The kid's skin was still pale, more so gray from the blood loss while his eyes appeared sunken. "Mike, can you hear me?"
Mike's brow furrowed and he exhaled slowly with a soft hum. His whole body ached, but his chest hurt the most. The pain was dull, but lingering and uncomfortable. He was lying down on something soft and he could smell cleaning solution in the air.
"Mike."
That voice…that was Harvey's voice. And then it all came back to him. He and the man were walking out of the courthouse when a person came out of nowhere and shot Harvey before shooting him and running off. He remembered tasting blood, not being able to breathe, the agony and then everything went black. As Mike opened his eyes, he shifted, and a small whimper escaped his throat as the pain his chest flared up.
"Hey, relax," he heard Harvey say. "Take it slow, you're still healing."
Mike breathed heavily and blinked, staring up at a bright white ceiling before scanning the area. Yep, he was in the hospital. Glancing to his right, Harvey's face swam into focus. Well, he thought it was Harvey, it hardly looked like him. His face was pale and unshaven, and he wasn't wearing a suit, but instead a hospital gown.
"H-Harv-vey?"
The man smiled warmly. "About time, kid."
~+SUITS+~
Mike stayed in the hospital for a week recovering. The first few days were rough; he was in a lot of pain, despite the medication they had him on. An infection caused a fever that didn't break until day four and he was barely able to stay awake for more than ten minutes. Harvey had been discharged during that time, but refused to leave the kid, especially since their shooter was still out there.
Still aching and exhausted, Mike was finally allowed to leave and put into Harvey's care, much to his displeasure. He was preached to by the doctor, Harvey and Donna that his chest wound had been life-threatening and that he needed to be careful the next month or two, so being alone wasn't really an option.
"Mike," Harvey began. "Not only does the doctor want you to stay with someone because you got shot a week ago, but it'll be easier for the police to keep an eye on us both. Did you forget the guy who tried to kill us still hasn't been caught?" Let alone know who it was. No doubt it was someone who felt Harvey had fucked him over and honestly he probably deserved the bullet, but when Mike or anyone else he cared about got caught in the crossfires, that's when he got pissed.
The blonde rolled his eyes as they stepped into the older man's condo. He was hunched over, out of breath and sweating, the journey from the hospital to the car and the car to the building an uphill battle. His chest was burning, and he couldn't wait to take his pain pills and sleep.
"Just a little further, kid," Harvey spoke, leading him to the bedroom. At first he had asked Donna to make up the couch, but she scolded him, saying a not so comfortable cushion was bad for someone with a hole in their chest. Harvey noticed the bed was freshly made and layered with blankets while a duffle bag filled with Mike's things Donna picked up at his apartment was sitting at the end.
"Why don't you get changed and I'll bring in your pills."
Mike nodded and collapsed onto the bed, pulling things out from his bag. He felt the energy drain from his body the second he touched the mattress. Damn, Harvey's bed was fucking amazing. How did that guy manage to get out of it each morning? He yawned, pulling on a t-shirt and sweats before resting on the pillows, waiting for Harvey to return. However, the longer he waited, the heavier his eyelids felt and despite the ache in his chest, he let himself succumb to the darkness where he wouldn't be able to feel it anyways.
That's how Harvey found him five minutes later, passed out on top of the covers, laying sideways on the pillows while his legs still hung off the side of the bed. He had gotten caught up with speaking to the officer who was taking the first shift standing outside his door. So far things were looking clear and there were a few cops out circling the area, but it still didn't ease his worry. Someone had tried to kill them both and he had a feeling they wouldn't be giving up so easily.
Harvey snorted. "That can't be comfortable, kid." He walked over, placing the water and bottle of pills on the nightstand before moving Mike under the sheets. He sighed through his nose, staring at his associate sadly. He felt guilty that the man got hurt because of him. He wished he had been the one shot in the chest; Mike didn't deserve pain like that. Clearing his throat, he shut off the light and left the room. He was ready to take some pills and turn in himself, but the guilt and nightmares were keeping him from doing so. After grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, he went to the living room and sat down on the couch, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It was going to be a long week.
~+S+~
Mike was pretty much bedridden for most of the first week, the blood loss, major surgery, and the fact that he almost died, taking a toll on his body. Donna would bring him food in bed, much to Harvey's annoyance. Sometimes he would manage to make it to the couch so he and the lawyer could watch a movie, but his medication usually made him pass out halfway through. He barely had the energy to go to the bathroom, but that was the only dignity he had left and refused to have help.
The second week came around and Mike got stronger, but he was also getting annoyed with Harvey. The whole time the blonde had worked for the guy, Harvey always claimed he never cared about anyone or anything but himself, but now…it was the complete opposite. He barely left his side and despite being a bit more recovered, always hovering, treating him like he would collapse any second, and wouldn't go to the firm, instead doing work from home which he wouldn't even let him help with. Mike insisted he would be fine alone since the cop would be at the door, but Harvey just ignored him. It was infuriating.
"I can't trust you to be by yourself, kid. You're like a newborn calf plus you're still recuperating."
"Harvey," Mike said, limping from the couch into the kitchen. "I'm fine, just go."
"Sit, you're gonna fall over," the older man said, looking up from his computer.
Mike rolled his eyes, but did so, feeling a little tremor in his legs. "Just because someone shot at us, doesn't mean we can't go back to our normal lives."
Harvey snorted. "You're joking right? We're not going back out there when there's some pyscho on the loose."
The blonde grumbled, rubbing his forehead before trudging back to the couch. He hated being boxed in like this…Harvey was treating him like a child. He didn't need to be babysat, he was almost thirty for god sakes, this was bullshit. Another thing that was frustrating him was trying to remember the face of the man who shot them. He recalled seeing it before the bullet hit him, but it was still so hazy, and it was giving him a headache. He was supposed to remember everything, why was he having such a hard time with this?
More days passed, and Harvey just got worse. It was not like him and Mike wondered if the man hit his head after getting shot. He was being way to overbearing. Asking if he was comfortable, tired, hungry, in pain, always by his side, never letting him be alone for longer than a few minutes. Telling him to sit, eat, take a pill, sleep. He wanted to go home, he wanted things to be normal. Mike was always an independent person, more so after his parents' deaths. He didn't like this overprotectiveness…actually it was more than that, it was controlling, and he didn't like being controlled. Harvey was his friend, not his father. He was done…done playing nice.
The next afternoon, Mike came out of the bathroom, wondering how he should tell Harvey he was leaving and didn't care what he said. But he still worked for the guy, they were still friends, so he didn't want to be mean about it…until he saw that the man was getting ready to go somewhere. He frowned…maybe he was finally easing up.
"Where are we going?" He asked, hopeful.
"I'm going to the firm. Jessica needs me for a meeting with the partners, plus there's some other work I gotta get done."
"What about me?"
"I don't know, pick a movie or something."
"Why can't I just go home?"
"Mike, you know why you can't do that."
The blonde scoffed. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Harvey looked up. "What did you say?"
"So, you can go out and do what you want, but I have to sit, stay, and bark like I'm your dog? I'm a human being, Harvey, not an animal…not a prisoner. I'm suffocating here!" He threw up his arms and stormed into Harvey's room to pack his things.
"Where do you think you're going?" Harvey snapped, appearing at the door.
"Home…where I should've gone days ago instead of letting you control every move I make."
"Kid-"
"I'm not a kid, or a pup, or someone who needs to be babysat! I'm a grown man who can take care of myself. I don't need you! All this overprotectiveness…this hovering, this isn't you, so why don't you go back to not giving a shit about me."
Harvey clenched his jaw, the vein in his neck pulsing angrily. "Fine. Leave, but when that guy-"
"That guy is probably after you more than he is after me. All the bullshit you've pulled over the years, it's a miracle you're still alive. People don't hate me, Harvey, they hate you. And right now, I'm one of them." Grabbing his duffle bag, Mike strode out of the bedroom and down the hall, leaving Harvey speechless. He didn't really mean the things he said, but the frustration and being cooped up for so long made him see red.
"Mr. Ross, where are you going?" The officer said, startled by his sudden appearance.
"Home and I don't need an escort," he grumbled, heading for the elevators.
"Mr. Ross, we were ordered not to let you out of our sight. The guy who tried to kill you is-"
"Not after me, he's probably after Harvey." He pressed the button to call up the cart, glancing at the young officer. "But if you're worried about getting in trouble, you can send someone over to my apartment." The doors opened and he stepped in, not knowing he was making the biggest mistake of his life. When he got outside, he flagged down an oncoming taxi and thanked god when it slowed down and pulled over. He wanted to get out of here before Harvey tried to stop him.
"Where to?" The cabbie asked as Mike settled in.
The blonde sighed, resting his head against the seat. "160 Franklin Ave in Brooklyn, please."
"Sure thing." He pulled out onto the street and started driving. However, five minutes into the journey, Mike realized they were headed in the opposite direction. He frowned, glancing at the street names and then at the cab driver. Maybe he just took a wrong turn, the guy didn't have a GPS after all, though Mike thought that was strange. "Um, I think you're going in the wrong direction. Brooklyn is back that way."
When the man didn't respond, keeping his eyes on the road, Mike got anxious. "Hey, did you hear me?"
"I heard you, Mr. Ross, but you're not going home."
Mike's blood ran cold, all the color draining from his skin and his heart pounding against his chest in a panic. "What's going on? How do you know my name?"
The car sped up before pulling behind an abandoned building, screeching to a stop. Breathing heavily, Mike tried to open the door, but found that it had been locked and the button wouldn't pop up. Shit, shit, shit.
"So, Harvey finally let you out of his sight, huh?"
Mike turned just as the driver did and he choked. His mind flashed back to that night as he saw a man run up to them and shoot Harvey before turning the weapon on him. Dark brown eyes, red hair, and a large red birth mark on his cheek…just like the guy sitting in the driver's seat, smiling evilly at him. He really fucked up.
"Why are you doing this? Who are you?"
That same gun appeared, pointing right at his head. "You can call me Ben. Now be quiet and tie yourself up." He threw a roll of duct tape at Mike before waving the gun threateningly. "Nice and tight."
Mike swallowed thickly, in shock and unable to move.
"Do it!" Ben barked, cocking the weapon. "Or this time I'll aim for your head."
With shaking hands, he did as he was told, first binding his ankles together and then attempting to tape his wrists until his kidnapper got impatient and finished for him. Mike grimaced at the discomfort, already losing feeling in his hands.
"Good." The redhead got out and came to his side, opening the door and roughly pulled him out. Keeping a firm hand on Mike's arm, he dragged him over to the passenger side and threw him in. The blonde gasped as he fell against the center console, feeling his stitches pull and slight twinge of pain in his chest. The door shut and suddenly they were driving again. Mike sat himself up, scared for his life and wondering where they were headed. Maybe he could distract him with a little small talk. He was a lawyer- well a fake lawyer- after all.
"Does this have something to do with Harvey? Because I'm gonna tell you now, he doesn't care about me nor does he ever really negotiate so whatever money you want, he's not gonna give it up."
Ben snorted. "Sounds exactly like him, but I don't want his money."
"Then what do you want?" He was almost afraid to hear the answer.
"Both of you ruined my life…Harvey more than you, but you work for him so you're just as to blame. That big trial a month ago with Ronald Kelly, when you shut him down, did you think about all the people who would lose their jobs?"
Mike clenched his jaw, remaining silent.
"Of course not. I knew his business was corrupt…I knew he was embezzling money, hell half the company knew, but no one cared because we had a job…we had tons of money, so we kept our mouth shut. Until that bitch, Nancy, decided to be a whistleblower because she felt guilty. I've already taken care of her though…I just did what half of the other jobless employees dreamed of doing. Which brings me back to you and Harvey-"
"W-We were just doing our jobs," Mike muttered.
"Your job is to ruin other people's lives? You lawyers are all the same; cocky, egoistical bastards that only care about winning and money. Not the people you hurt in the process. And now because I have no job, I can't pay for my wife's chemo treatment. She's my life and now she's going to die because of you…and you're both gonna pay."
Mike shivered in fear, looking out the window and at the sky. It was getting darker and nothing good happened after dark. He had no idea where they were going, but he knew he had to think of some way to get out of this. Suddenly, his phone began to ring in his pocket and Ben glared at him, raising the gun menacingly.
"Who's calling you?"
"I-I don't know."
"Well, look!"
He stiffly reached into his pocket, holding the device between his bound hands, and checking the caller I.D. Just fucking perfect.
"Who is it?"
"It's Harvey."
"Answer it! And put it on speaker."
Mike complied. "H-Hello?"
"Mike, where the hell are you? I get that you're pissed at me and think that you don't need protection, but you do."
The blonde glanced to his left. If only he hadn't been so stubborn; Harvey was right, the cop was right…and now he was in the hands of a very pissed and very insane person.
"The officer said you were going home, but when they sent someone over, you weren't there. It's been forty-five minutes and I know it doesn't take you that long to get home, so where are you?"
Mike swallowed, hearing Harvey's voice repeating the same words over and over in his head. I told you so. I told you so. I told you so. "Um…I'm in a t-taxi…I'm just going for a ride with Ben."
A beat of silence passed before Harvey spoke again. "Ben? Who's Ben? Mike, where are you, what's going on?"
Before Mike could respond, Ben snatched the phone out of his hand. "Hello, Harvey."
"Who are you? What do you want with Mike?"
Ben chuckled darkly. "I'm gonna kill him. You guys destroyed my life so I'm gonna kill your little boy toy here and then I'm gonna come back and kill you."
Harvey's stomach dropped, feeling sick. Actually, he was feeling sick the second the officer called saying Mike wasn't at his apartment like he was supposed to be. He knew he shouldn't have let the kid leave. No matter how frustrated they were at each other, he should've kept him safe…now he was in the hands of that pyscho. Harvey tried to remain calm, putting the phone on speaker as the officer was on the phone with the cyber unit, trying to trace the number.
"Just let him go. Take me." He had no idea who this 'Ben' was, but when he got his hands on the guy…
The man on the other end laughed. "Wow, I'm shocked. Mike didn't think you'd ever negotiate…but it doesn't matter. There's no trading in this situation. It's an eye for an eye. You're never going to see Mike alive again."
Ben held the phone out in front of Mike. "Say your goodbye's kids."
Mike's nostrils flared, tears welling in his eyes. This was it; Ben was going to kill him, and the last interaction he had with Harvey was a bad one.
Harvey was trembling in anger and fear…especially when he heard Mike's scared voice on the other end.
"Goodbye, Harvey. I'm sor-" The line suddenly went dead, leaving a flat tone in its wake.
"Mike? Mike!" But he was gone. "Fuck!" He turned to the officer. "Please tell me you got something."
The cop put up his finger, listening intently to whoever was speaking on the other end. "Okay, great thanks. Keep us updated on the location." He ended the call before using his radio to request backup. "They've got a hit on the phone, Mr. Specter. Looks like they've just pulled into Central Park off West 72nd street."
Harvey swallowed. Central Park at night was never a good thing. "I'm coming with you."
"Mr. Specter, you need to stay-"
"I said I'm coming with you," he growled, grabbing his things. He was the one who forced Mike into leaving and he would be the one to get him back…hopefully alive.
Ben hung up as they pulled into one of the many entrances of Central Park. Mike trembled, pressing up against the door, wishing it would open. Even if he wanted to run, though, the tape around his ankles would stop him.
"Please…just think about what you're doing. I'm sorry about your wife and I'm sorry you're struggling, but killing people isn't gonna fix anything."
Ben pulled out his gun and the blonde flinched. "That may be true, but at least it'll make me feel better." And before Mike could respond, the redhead swiftly brought the butt of the weapon down on his head and he blacked out before the pain had a chance to do it for him.
~+SUITS+~
Mike's eyelids felt heavy and even though he couldn't find the energy to open them, he was slowly crawling out of the darkness. It was quiet besides distant car horns and the wind in the trees. He was moving…more like being dragged; he could feel the sand and pebbles digging into his arms. He groaned, trying to open his mouth, but found that something sticky was preventing him from doing so. Tape. Right, some pyscho named Ben had kidnapped him. God, he hoped someone was looking for him, even if it wasn't Harvey. Once he finally managed to open his eyes, everything was blurry, his head was pounding, and he could smell blood. It was dark out, only small remnants of the sun painting the sky. He had no idea where this guy was bringing him, but he knew they were getting closer and closer to his death. Mike tried to raise his head, but they went over a root and he hit the ground, knocking him out once more.
The next time he came to, he was able to open his eyes, but his vision was doubling. The sky was gone replaced by a wooden structure, he could hear water close by and when he rolled his head, he could see that he was in a hut. He vaguely recognized the place. Wagner's Cove: he used to come by here on walks with his Grammy. Blinking a few times, he saw Ben crouched by his feet, tying ropes around his ankles that were now void of the duct tape he had there earlier. And those ropes were attached to cement blocks. Oh no. Ben was going to drown him. He whimpered and the man looked up.
"I was hoping you'd be awake for this." He came over and ripped the tape from his mouth.
"P-Please," he managed to croak out. "Please don't d-do this. I'm b-begging you."
"You can beg all you want kid…in fact I encourage it. It's fun to listen to."
Mike breathed frantically, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. He was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. Why didn't he just listen to Harvey? Now he was never gonna get the chance to apologize. "M'sorry," he whispered.
Ben glanced up before rolling his eyes. "A little too late for apologies. Now get on your knees." The red head grabbed Mike's collar and yanked him upright, pushing him to his knees right in front of the end of the hut over the water. "Any last words?"
The blonde shuddered when he felt the cold muzzle of the gun kiss the back of his head. At least his death would be quick. If Harvey were in this position, he would probably say something clever. He wouldn't be scared, instead take it like a man, maybe even fight back. But he couldn't fight back…he was weak.
"No? Wow, you're pathetic. It's a wonder a guy like Harvey hired a wimp like you." Ben cocked the gun with a loud click.
Dizzy and nauseous, Mike closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could hear voices and sirens in the distance, maybe even someone shouting his name, but he knew he was just imagining things. This was it.
Harvey and the cops pulled into the entrance of Central Park, speeding towards the dot where Mike's phone was pinging.
"The phone seems to within range of Cherry Hill." The dispatcher said over the radio. "It hasn't moved in the last ten minutes."
Harvey bit the inside of his cheek. That was either a good thing or a bad thing. The officer sped up, glad there were no pedestrians out at night in that area of the park. When they got closer, an old looking taxicab came into view, doors and trunk wide open. It had to be it…that had to be how Mike got taken in the first place. The lawyer didn't wait for the car to stop before jumping out and running over.
"Mike? Mike!" The associate's duffle bag was in the back and his cellphone was discarded on the floor of the passenger side…but no Mike and no Ben. They could be any-
Bang!
A gunshot echoed in the air, birds flying out from the trees and the officers on alert. It was so close to them. Mike was close and he could be dead.
Bang! Harvey's heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach as a second one went off before they all ran over towards the direction of which it came. Please let him be okay. Please don't be dead.
"Mike!"
The blonde gasped, blinking his eyes open. There it was again, and it sounded like Harvey. It had to be in his head, but he liked to think it was the older lawyer telling him not to give up.
"You're not weak kid. Fight back."
Harvey was right; if he was going to die, he shouldn't lay down and take it. With a burst of adrenaline, pushing against the agony in his head, Mike jumped to his feet and swung around, grabbing the gun as much as he could with bound wrists.
"Hey!" Ben growled. "Let go you little shit!" Ben pulled the trigger and a bullet fired into the air.
But Mike refused and they struggled with the weapon, stumbling towards the water. Another shot went off, striking Ben in the shoulder and forcing out a shout of pain before he fell backwards off the dock…but not before taking Mike- and the cinderblocks- with him.
The water was ice cold, putting the young associate in a state of shock for a moment before he came to his senses. They were sinking fast on account of the added weight, but he still fought, punching Ben in the face, and earning one in return. His lungs screamed for oxygen and it was getting hard to see on account of the murky water and lack of air. He threw another punch, getting Ben in the chin and causing the man to yell angrily, bubbles floating out of his mouth. Before Mike knew it, the man raised his foot and kicked him violently square in the chest, right where he had gotten shot. The blonde choked and gasped, inhaling a mouthful of water. He couldn't breathe; his lungs were filling with liquid and not the air he so desperately needed. His vision went dark for a moment, but when it cleared, he could see Ben swimming for the surface. He attempted to do so as well, but the cinderblocks had reached the bottom, refusing to let him go any further than the short length of rope would allow. Despite this being the case, he tried with all the energy to get to the surface, tugging on the ropes frantically. However, exhausted, he found that it was no use…he was drowning, and no one was going to save him. Ben had won and now he was gonna go after Harvey. He was a failure. Mike stopped fighting, feeling his limbs go numb and heavy. His vision slowly dimmed, a faint ringing in his ears growing louder and louder. His outer vision started to tunnel; he was tired, so fucking tired. It was time to let go and for the very last time, mostly likely, he let his eyes close.
~+S+~
Harvey and the officers rushed down the dirt path until they finally reached the small wooden structure. There was a gun lying in the dirt and some stray rope, but no Mike. Harvey feared the worse when he saw the water rippling softly…like someone just fell in.
"Mike!" He got closer to the edge, squinting when he saw a form swimming to the top. His relief was only short-lived, however, when he saw red, not blonde hair. He moved out of the way when the officers pointed them down at the water.
By the time Ben reached the surface, his arm was throbbing, the cold water doing nothing to numb his pain. He slowly paddled to the hut, spitting the water out of his mouth. That little twit had made his job much more difficult than it had to be, but at least he won. The kid was dead and he was…
Click.
He gasped, raising his head to meet three barrels of guns. Fuck.
The cops grabbed Ben by the arms, lifting him out of the water and handcuffing his wrists behind his back.
"Where is he?" Harvey growled, grabbing the man's soaked shirt.
"Nice to meet you too, Harvey," Ben smirked.
Harvey grew angrier, tightening his grasp. "Where is he, you son of a bitch?!"
The redhead laughed, glancing back down at the water. "You're too late." With that, the officers began dragging him away.
"Call an ambulance," Harvey said and without a second thought, he jumped into the lake, hoping Ben was just messing with him and the kid was still alive. The water was foggy and cold; it was hard to see, but it wasn't difficult to make out the sandy blonde hair, floating beneath him. He swam faster and he almost choked on water, seeing the condition his associate was in. His face was pale, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, but he wasn't breathing. He was just swaying there motionlessly, bound arms above his head…possibly dead. Not wanting to waste anymore time, Harvey tried to lift Mike up but found that it was impossible. Blinking, he looked down to see rope tied to each of Mike's ankles, most likely attached to cement weights that sat on the lake floor forty feet down where his sight couldn't reach. Inwardly swearing and with cold, fumbling fingers, Harvey frantically tried to undo the tight knot, but he felt he was being slow. Ben's words kept repeating in his mind, making him panic. You're too late. You're too late. You're too late. His lungs were screaming for air…he couldn't imagine the fear the kid had gone through when he couldn't swim to the surface. Harvey had a feeling Mike wouldn't be the same after this…that is, if he survived. Come on, come on! It seemed like an eternity before he managed to get the ropes removed and moving faster, he snaked his arms underneath Mike's and propelled them to the surface. Harvey was on autopilot after that; he didn't even know how he and Mike got onto the wooden platform. Shivering, he crawled over to his associate, squinting when the policemen's flashlights shone in his eyes and on Mike's colorless face.
"Where are the paramedics?" He gasped, leaning over the blonde's mouth. Still not breathing. He shakily brought two fingers to the man's ice cold neck and choked. No pulse. Shit!
"They're on the way."
"Dammit." As he started CPR, he noticed red blossoming through the blonde's t-shirt. Had he been shot…again? The kid couldn't afford to lose anymore blood, but now wasn't the time to check. "Come on, Mike! Breathe!" It felt like he was back to that first night…the night that started it all. When he begged Mike to stay awake, to stay alive. He thought for sure he had lost him that night and now it was happening all over again. "Mike, please…please wake up." Harvey could feel the man's ribs cracking underneath his pressure and how cold his blue lips were when he gave him rescue breaths, but nothing was happening. He was failing his kid again.
His arms burned and just when he was about to collapse from exhaustion, Mike's body shuddered and jerked violently, his eyes flying open. Water, grass, and vomit spilled out of his mouth and once Harvey got over the initial surprise, he rolled the blonde over, rubbing his back gently. The officer nearby took a knife and cut apart the tape, removing it from his wrists.
"Hey, you're okay, kid, you're okay," Harvey said.
Mike gagged and wheezed, looking sick and completely out of it. Harvey's heart broke at the sight and brought the man's trembling body into his arms. It had been close…way too close. The thought of losing the boy made his stomach churn.
"H-Har…v…vey?"
He glanced down and saw Mike's glazed over eyes staring up at him. He smiled in relief, tightening his grip. "Hey kid. Would you stop giving me heart attacks?"
The blonde huffed, blinking sluggishly. He was cold, tired and sore; it was a miracle that he was alive, but where was Ben? What if he came back? What if he came for Harvey?
"B-Be-"
"The police have him. You're safe now."
Mike's body relaxed at this news. He could barely keep his eyes open; sounds were becoming distorted, and his vision was blurring. "Good… 'n H-Harv…m's-sorry." Before he could hear the older man's response, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he blacked out.
~+S+~
Mike was unconscious in the hospital for two days before he woke up, though still out of it due to the raging fever yet another infection was giving him. Swimming in and swallowing disgusting lake water was not a good thing for someone recovering from a major injury. Not to mention he was also suffering from a concussion, broken ribs, ripped stitches, lost blood, and pneumonia. It was going to be a while before they let him out, much less recover. The kid looked miserable; Harvey could see that clearly in Mike's dull blue orbs. His face was void of color besides the dark circles underneath his eyes, and it was covered with a thin layer of sweat.
"Hey kid," he smirked. Donna was gonna be so pissed the pup woke up without her there.
Mike frowned, sluggishly scanning the area. "Harv…where m'I?"
"The hospital. You've been out for a couple days."
The blonde closed his eyes and hummed. Harvey thought he had gone back to sleep, when suddenly his eyes flew wide open in a panic, breathing erratically. "Harvey."
"What's wrong?" The older lawyer said, moving closer and placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Hey."
"Ben…he said he was…g-going to kill you." He blinked furiously, attempting to sit up, but failing. "Harvey, he's…you have to go, he's gonna come back."
Harvey shushed him, gently pressing him back against the pillows. The fever was making him delirious. "Mike, we're both safe. He's in jail and never getting out."
"Really?"
Harvey fixed the sheets before brushing the strand of hair from the man's forehead. The gesture was startling to Harvey as much as it was to Mike. He was never a touchy-feely person, nor did he like to show emotion, but in the course of a month, he almost lost the man he considered a little brother. Twice! He wasn't going to take him for granted again. "Yeah."
Mike seemed to relax at this, his eyelids drooping. "…vey…m'sorry. Shouldn't have said those things b'fore."
Harvey chuckled. "Don't worry about it, most of it was right anyways. I don't have a ton of friends…and who knows how many enemies. I guess one just decided to act on it. I'm sorry, too kid."
The blonde smiled tiredly before going back to sleep. Harvey sighed, sinking into the chair. Mike was far from better; there would be nightmares, uncertainty, trust issues and he was definitely gonna need therapy. There was a long road ahead of them, but for now, right here, they were okay.
FIN
Next prompt for: Irais: Mike suffers from flail chest after a bad accident
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