Walking Mike through those doors, not knowing when he'd be able to come out again, sent an agonising pang through my heart, straight to my stomach. I had been holding it together as strongly as I possibly could, for Mike. I knew I'd be able to breakdown after… The only time I'd been unable to suppress it had bene when I'd come home expecting to be by myself.

I'd been surprised by Mike's presence. I'd kept pressing …press till it hurts. I had wanted for him to come at me, tormented that he was going to go to prison because of me. I was the one who had hired him, despite knowing better, I was the one who had kept him by myside however I could, even though Mike had expressed multiple times that we should quit while we were ahead. It was my fault. And the guilt was eating me up.

I knew it wouldn't do him any good pointing fingers, so I kept it buried, but it leaped to the surface when presented with Mike so unexpectedly. I barely made a move to defend myself, wanting for him to punish me, not caring in the moment what this would do to him, how much he would hate himself for hurting me.

Just like I hated myself so much knowing what I was causing him. What he was losing because of me. After he stopped, tears pouring down his eyes, I regretted what I had forced him to do.

"What are you doing here?" I sighed.

Mike responded seriously, "Harvey, I want to talk to you."

"Good, because I want to talk to you."

"I want you to be my best man." Mike says. I stare at him in shock, not expecting this to be even remotely a topic of consideration. "What? Rachel and I want to get married."

"You are less than a day from prison and you're thinking about dresses and flowers?" I couldn't help the sarcastic tone my words held. I shoved down the feelings that rose in me at hearing Rachel's name, something of an automatic response at this point.

"Harvey…" Mike starts.

I cut him off, "You know what? I'll be your best man on one condition – "

Mike doesn't let me finish, knowing where I was going with this. "That ship has sailed."

"The hell it has. We can still call Gibbs." I needed for him to agree to this. I couldn't let him take the fall for something that was our fault. I wouldn't let him take the brunt of it, when I was equally, if not more so, at fault.

Mike responded dismissively, "I am not calling Gibbs."

"Get it through your head. This is on me," I needed to get through to him. So much weighed on this, and I physically ached at the thought of him going to prison, especially at the hands of something that was my fault.

"No, you get it through your head, " Mike snapped back. "I am not letting you go to prison for a crime that I committed.

"Well, I'm not letting you go when you were going to be found innocent!" The words flew out in angry desperation.

Mike visibly reeled back at my words. "What did you say?"

I rallied, "That's right. I lied. The verdict was not guilty."

I knew the next words out of Mike's mouth before he said them, after having seen his face fall into stubborn denial. "No, I don't believe you."

"Then call the goddamn guy," I shrugged, carelessly as if this wasn't a conversation that didn't carry the weight of the world. It felt like it would be my last chance at talking Mike out of his goddamn martyr complex, and for what?! For me?! Not if I had anything to do with it.

Mike was still reeling from what I'd revealed, but was starting to anger, "Why the hell would you lie to me?"

"Because the truth would have broken you."

"Except now you want to break me," Mike shouted back, and I didn't – couldn't – let Mike see how much those words affected me, but he was right.

As much as it hurt, I kept pushing "Because it's the only way you're going to let me do this." I would rather Mike hate me and stay out of prison, then go and grow to resent me, and hate me. I couldn't stand the thought of him having been loyal to me (with a few minor exceptions) through all the years, and when he needed it the most, I just let him go to prison? I kept going, asking rhetorically "You think putting a ring on Rachel's finger is going to make everything go away?"

"You know what, Harvey? You want to come to my wedding, you let me know," Mike said with an air of finality, turning to walk away, leaving.

I wasn't thinking, acting on my desperation, and threw my glass of Scotch right near where his head was. It hit the wall right next to him, and it smashed, sending crystals flying everywhere. Mike spun around, shocked, angry. "You want to go to prison?" I said, strongly. "Rule number one. Never turn your back on anyone."

Fury flared in Mike's eyes momentarily, before he pulled it back, and I almost flinched, before controlling my reaction. "I know what you're doing, and it's not going to work," Mike almost shouted, trying to not react.

"I'm not trying to take your place anymore." I told him loudly, "I'm trying to get you ready like Gloria Danner asked me to."

At the mention of Gloria's name, Mike softened for a second, "Harvey…"

I kept going, as if Mike hadn't spoken, trying to get a rise out of him, "Cause you're weak."

"I am not weak," he snapped.

"Yeah?" I egged him on, knowing I was getting closer and closer to illicit a reaction out of him. "Well, hit me."

Mike started off responding loudly, but ended up shouting back at me, as I had gotten closer, started invading his personal space, silently asking him to shove at me, "No. Harvey, stop it!"

"Hit me." I kept at it. "Listen. You think you're not weak?"

Mike cut me off, and at this point we were pretty much talking over the other, not letting the other finish what they were saying, and our volumes had risen to the point I would be concerned neighbours would be making a complaint. "No, you listen to me. You're only doing this because you feel guilty."

There was truth to his words, that I had acknowledged and was the reason for my actions now but I needed to get him going, to really start. "Louis Litt got you into a headlock – "

" – But I am not going to hit you!" Mike exclaimed.

" – Tess's husband kicked your ass – "

"I'm not going to hit you just because you can't handle the fact…" Mike's eyes showed just how much he was struggling to not let the fury out, and I knew I was almost there.

"What do you think he's going to do with her, the second you get behind…" Apparently that was the last straw, as next thing I knew, I was somewhat winded from the punch I had just been on the receiving end of.

With each blow Mike landed on me, he spat, "Is this what you want? That I hate you?" I could tell that his fury was making him lose control of what words were coming out, as he was not entirely coherent. "And you're going to make me do this and lose everything because of you?"

The punches landed hard, but the words he was throwing at me – that I asked for, that I deserved – hit home a lot harder. it was what I was desperately afraid of, that he would resent me for not doing everything to keep him out of jail, that when he desperately needed me to, I wasn't loyal to him the way he had been for so many years (save for minor, distant memories). As he laid that last one of me, it's like he had slowly come to the realisation of what he had done, what I'd pushed him to do, and he backed away, his face scrunched up in excruciating pain, and my stomach sank, knowing I hadn't thought of how this would affect him after. Press until it hurts. He started shaking, before he covered his face and started sobbing, and my heart broke at seeing him like this.

I ran my hand down my face, gingerly touched my nose, my mouth to test the damage. "Mike, please," I couldn't help but plead softly with him. Make this worth it. Putting him through this, please let me do this. "Let's call Gibbs."

Mike didn't look at me, but his voice was strong, resolute, despite the shaking and the tears, "I can't. I can't Harvey."

My heart bled, knowing that all the pain, the hurt, what I had just put him through was all moot. He had come here asking me to be his best man and I had broken him down instead. At least I knew he could pack a punch, a thought that I squashed as soon as it even crossed my mind.

"I'm sorry Mike, so sorry!" I tried reaching for him, for him to look in my direction so he would know I was sincere. "I needed to try…"

With all those painful, difficult words out in the air, it had taken time before we were able to come back from it. But with our deadline looming ahead of us, both of us didn't hang on to any of it stubbornly, as we may have in other circumstances. I helped Mike up, offering my hand, which he took, and I pulled him into a tight hug. I whispered, "I'm sorry," in his ears as my hold tightened, not wanting to think of how we weren't going to make it out on the other side together, unlike every other time. This time, the most crucial time, I wasn't able to get him out, to fix everything. I didn't deserve him before and I most certainly didn't now. Not his loyalty or his freedom. Mike hugged back, and I could feel his emotional turmoil emanating off of him. But his eyes were set, and I knew beyond a shadow of doubt there was nothing I could do to change his mind.

I thought back to what Donna had said, and I knew when she said she "was scared of losing" me, she knew the impact of Mike being imprisoned would have on me. I had forbidden myself from thinking of it, but as time elapsed faster than ever, I couldn't help but think of the gloomy, endless darkness awaiting me. And I shoved it down each time it crossed my mind, because what I would go through without Mike was nothing compared to what he was facing, and I was just showing how selfish I could be by thinking otherwise.

We sat down on the couch, I handed him a glass of scotch, ignoring the mess made on the other side of the room. We sat silently but close together, each involved in our own thoughts.

As Mike walked into the prison, he took apart of me as he went. I had long known and acknowledged my feelings for him. I was in love with Mike Ross. Had been for some time, and that acceptance had been a long journey all on its own. But I had come to accept it, just as I had that it would never go anywhere. Mike was engaged to Rachel, and one of my firm lines was to not come in the middle of a relationship. There were different types of infidelity, physical and emotional, and I never wanted to be like my mother. Mike was off-limits. His happiness meant more to me than anything else, and I was glad he had found someone that loved him and made him happy, even if that wasn't me. I had missed my chance, if I'd ever had one.

"Frank Gallo," Mike said, clearly.

I straightened up, and moved back in my chair across from Mike. "Holy shit," I was shocked to hear that name and the connotations of it. "What's he doing in here?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you'd tell me that," Mike said, with a raised eyebrow. I knew he was holding it together by a thin thread, not having expected anything like this. The side of his face looked pretty bad, with dried blood on the side. It looked raw, painful. Mike had plenty to deal with, without someone after me taking it out on him.

It was another thing to add to my list of things I'd never be able to make up to Mike. The list that was growing substantially longer, along with the guilt that was always threatening to overwhelm me. I had made a personal promise that I would never let Mike see how much it affected me to see him in here while he was in prison. He didn't need to have that on his conscious, and knowing him, he would, and hold himself responsible for it.

My mind went through everything I knew in regards to Gallo at lightning speed, trying to figure out what was going on. I started thinking out loud, "I put him away for racketeering."

"That doesn't make any sense," Mike argued. "Last time I checked that doesn't land him in here."

"You're right," I said, looking Mike in the eye quickly, trying to reassure him. "A guy like Gallo only lands in here for one reason: good behaviour." I stood up as I finished speaking.

"Why are you saying that like it's a good thing?" Mike asked, trying to follow my thought process.

"Because bad behaviour can get him out." I made a step towards the door, anxious to be doing something to help. I was sick of just being on the sidelines, not doing anything except watching everything spectacularly blow up in our faces.

"Where are you going?" Mike stood up, and made as if to move to follow me, before stopping, realising he couldn't.

"I'm gonna go to the warden," I told Mike. "Tell him the whole story. We'll get him outta here within the week."

The next thing out of Mike's mouth stopped me where I was. "That's exactly why I did not want to tell you. Look, these guards are corrupt. You go to the warden, it gets back to Gallo and he's gonna come after me twice as hard." He started off at a normal conversation volume, and unconsciously ended up a lot louder towards the end. He had stood up with his arms on the table, trying to get me to understand.

"It's one week instead of two years," I said, aiming for dismissive, but not sure if it came across like that. I tried to convince him, knowing that I would end up following what he wanted otherwise. "Look, we got a chance to get him outta here, I'm gonna take it."

Mike responded, "He's got Rachel's phone number."

That threw me off for a minute, "Ye… that's all the more reason to do it…"

"Goddamn it, Harvey!" Mike's patience had clearly anger took over, from struggling to get me to see his perspective. "You pushed me to beat the shit out of you so that you'd know I could take care of myself in here, now are you gonna let me do that, or are you gonna cut my lets out from under me?"

Those words hit home, and the still painful, guilt-associated memory came suddenly to the forefront. It stopped me in my tracks, and I gave in, despite knowing that was why Mike had said those words. I felt a pang go through me repeatedly, at what I had put him through, at the visual in my mind of Mike's face scrunched up in neverending pain – pain that I had caused and was still contributing to.

I responded quietly, pained, "I'll stay out of it."

"I want your word," Mike said, determinedly.

I looked him in the eyes, so he knew I was sincere, "I won't go to the warden."

I felt so helpless, knowing that, once again, I was the reason why Mike was in trouble, in a difficult, dangerous situation and there was nothing I could do to help get him out. All I had managed to bring to him was danger and pain.

I was putting up a front at work, knowing I needed to protect Rachel, for Mike. I had boxed my own feelings up and buried them. My feelings didn't matter, not when Mike was in prison for me, and I knew I needed to do whatever I could to help Rachel through this, for Mike. So he could have his happily ever after when he got out.

It was so difficult to focus on work, and every-time I managed, something would cross my mind and I was off-track for even longer. It took little time for me to realise that work didn't mean much to me anymore, not when Mike wasn't with me. I found myself dropping work with a moment's notice if something regarding Mike came up, and never looked back.

And now, because of me, there was a serious danger posed to Mike in prison, and that I had let Frank Gallo get to me as I was leaving the prison – it sent another pang of guilt, pain, hurt through me.

We'd finally done it. It had been a long, painful few months in which I had called in any and all favours, done my absolute utmost to get Mike out, and it seemed like it had finally, finally worked. I was holding my breath as I stood outside waiting for Mike to cross the threshold to be released. And suddenly he was there. He had dark bags under his eyes, he looked a bit more filled out, courtesy of the daily exercise regimen, but his skin looked pale, his eyes and face a little sunken in. He looked beautiful. I had seen him numerous times whether due to a genuine issue with his case, or because I had missed him, and didn't ever want him to think I had forgotten him. But nothing compared to seeing him now, finally free of the shackles of the past few months.

"Did it work?" Mike asked, as he walked towards me, stopping shortly of the gate.

"it worked," I nodded slightly, as I took him in, wearing his suit, top buttons undone, no tie.

"We did it," Mike exclaimed, with an element of shock, a grin breaking across his face, transforming it.

I couldn't help but smile in response, incredulous we had gotten here, confirming, "We did it."

We shook each other's hands, and then I pulled him into a tight hug, needing to touch him to see if this was real. As we separated, Mike walked towards the car, and I mentioned, "Oh, someone couldn't wait for you to get home." I was too happy in the moment to feel anything but bliss now that Mike was out. He utterly deserved to have Rachel meet him here, and welcome him back. Anything I could do to make him happy, begin to make up for everything I had caused him, I would, no questions asked.

Mike turned to glance at me, before turning back, hearing the car door open. Rachel exited the car, beaming and ran to Mike, who grabbed her, twirling her in the air and kissing her. I focused on the happiness I could see on Mike's face, reminding myself that this was why I would do anything to see that expression on his face all the time, for as long as I lived.

I had left Mike a text saying, "Hey. When you've settled back in, call me and we'll go out for a drink." I figured he'd need some time to settle in, with Rachel, and being out of prison. I didn't want to push, so I left it at that.

A few days after Mike had been released from prison, I heard a knock on my door. I wasn't expecting anyone, and there were only a select few people who would be let up to my apartment without a call to verify from security.

I opened the door, somewhat surprised to see Mike. "Hey, how are you? Is everything okay?" It was so good to have this familiarity of one another just turning up spontaneously at the others'. I had missed it.

"Hey. No, yeah everything's good. Just thought I'd come past for a bit, if that's good?" Mike asked, a little hesitant.

Wordlessly, I opened the door wide, gesturing for him to come inside. As I did, I observed him closely, and noticed while the dark bags under his eyes had diminished slightly, his eyes still had an expression of world-weary to them. The way he held himself was a little closed off, but other then that he seemed to be adjusting as well as possible.

Mike grabbed both of us a glass of scotch while I leant against the bar in the kitchen. We stood across from each other, taking a couple sips, and just relishing in the moment. I waited for Mike to say something, knowing if he wanted to say something he would.

"I called it off with Rachel."

I almost dropped my glass in shock. I had no idea they had even had problems – though calling the wedding off before he went to prison had rung alarms for others, I had known it was for Rachel, to not tie her down. I had a flicker of anger go through me at the thought Rachel had given up on Mike, but I pushed it down, not wanting to add fuel to the fire when I didn't know what had actually occurred.

"What… what happened?" I asked quietly.

"It – it wasn't going to work. There's some resentment there that I called it off before… And we both want different things. I care for Rachel but I'm not in love with her."

Mike seemed a bit all over the place, but I was having trouble focusing on where he was going as well. This was out of nowhere for me. I had never considered something like this happening – it had always seemed like they would make it work. I must've been silent a beat too long because Mike looked up at me, saying, "Harvey?"

"Yeah?" I responded almost absentmindedly. I walked over to the couch, gesturing for Mike to do so as well. This was a conversation that needed to be had while seated. I shook my head slightly to clear it, asking hesitantly, dreading the answer, "Is…Is it because you went to prison?"

I couldn't stand the thought that that would be what broke them, after everything. Another thing to add to my list of impossible things to make up to Mike.

"No! Prison just made me realise what kind of life I need to live – an honest one. I'm done with being a fraud, lying, all of it. All it did was hurt the people I care about, the people I love," Mike replied, almost frantically. "I fell out of love with Rachel without realising, and then in prison, when she didn't visit, I found myself not missing her the same way I used to… And well, I promised myself I wouldn't drag it out needlessly. So I called it off," Mike shrugged, as if going for careless but overcompensating.

I felt a pang go through me at first, at the thought that Mike's happy ever after didn't survive through his bout of prison. But as Mike explained, I still felt something go through me at the thought of him and Rachel breaking up. And my first priority was providing him comfort, of being there for him. Regardless of the small sprig of hope that was trying to blossom at the thought of maybe just maybe, a future for us. But I pushed that down to focus on Mike.

"Well," I started, "I'm sorry to hear it didn't work out. How did she take it? Do you need a place to stay?" The words were out of my mouth before I had even given them conscious thought, but I didn't regret them.

"She… she didn't take it badly, I think a part of her knew it wasn't working as well as it was initially but she was pretty upset. I don't want that apartment, so I told her she could take her time getting her stuff together, or if she wants the apartment she could buy it from me. I figured I would give her space, and I've found a hotel nearby that I thought I'd stay for now."

I heard the underlying unsaid words. The memories that he would've had with his grandmother, the apartment he had saved up and bought for her, only for her to never see it. I recall Mike mentioning in passing how he wasn't sure he wanted to live in it with Rachel, because all he could think about was his grandmother. Clearly, that still held weight even after all this time.

"No, you're not staying in a hotel. There is more than enough space here for you to crash – You can have the spare bedroom for as long as you want," I told Mike. There was no room for argument in this.

Mike looked almost relieved to hear that, "You sure, Harvey? I don't want to impose."

"Mike, I'm serious, stay as long as you want," I assured him.

Over the next couple of weeks, Mike had started looking at different career paths, after turning down my offer of 'consultant'. I took it hard initially, thinking it was another case of someone I had tried my best for, given as much of me as possible to (platonically) and it not being good enough. Another case of someone leaving me.

Slowly but surely Mike managed to get it through to me that even though I wasn't working with him, I was still coming home to him, however temporarily.

My panic attacks had subsided for quite awhile but had come back occasionally in the leadup to Mike's trial, and when I was feeling extremely out of control when Mike was in jail. I made sure to do whatever I could to suppress everything down until I was out of sight of everyone, especially Mike, because this wasn't something he needed on his shoulders with everything else going on.

However, after he had turned down the consulting position, I had had another panic attack, my first one in a month or so, the next day. I had initially gone out for a run, which usually helped clear my head, but all I could do was focus on Mike's refusal, and everything escalated from there. I had been making a turn back for the apartment when the worst of it came on, and one of the guards came out of the building, having recognised me, while another had called up for Mike.

I had been utterly embarrassed afterwards but in the moment the struggle to breathe had taken over, to the point I was hyperventilating. I started seeing black spots in my vision, and I was dizzy, almost nauseous. I started feeling claustrophobic with so many people around me, until Mike had arrived.

He recognised it as one of my panic attacks, albeit a bad one, and got everyone else to back off, while he stayed as a constant and talked me down from it. it felt like hours must've passed, I was so drained but in reality it would've been 15 or so minutes.

Once I had started breathing a bit more regularly, and wasn't feeling so dizzy, Mike slowly encouraged me to get up and we went up to my apartment. I couldn't stand that so many people had witnessed my break down, especially since before even at my worst, only Mike had really witnessed it at work. But I did realise Mike's presence helped tremendously, especially since I felt a lot less alone.

Mike got me water, sat me down on the couch, and put on a movie to play in the background. An hour or two passed, until he got up to get us some food. I offered to do so, which he shot down, and when he put plates in front of us, he watched my plate carefully, and I rolled my eyes at the realisation that he was watching to see I ate sufficiently, but smirked a little, which Mike returned, glad I hadn't snapped at him instead.

Eventually Mike broke the comfortable silence, during another movie he had playing in the background, "Harvey, I thought you're panic attacks had stopped? Isn't that why you stopped seeing Dr. Agard?"

Mike knew of Dr. Agard because after he had witnessed my panic attack in my office shortly after Donna had left me, he had persisted to make sure I was taking care of myself, and wouldn't get off my back until I snapped back that I was seeing someone for the panic attacks, and that I had medication as well. Mike had been extremely overprotective, and while normally that would've grated on me, after awhile I came to appreciate it when he toned it down and learnt to be a bit more subtle about it. I never told him much, but other than Dr. Agard, I had confided in Mike the most, and as a result he did know when I stopped seeing her.

At first, I didn't think I wanted to tell Mike about any of it, especially since this one revolved around Mike more than anything else. But then I recalled how non-judgemental and easy going Mike had been in the past whenever I had brought it up, or he had asked and I hadn't pushed him away.

"They did stop, when I told you they did. But I started having them again before the trial and occasionally while you were in prison. I haven't had one in the last month or so though." I kept looking at the TV screen while speaking, as I found it easier. I had let out more information than I initially considered telling Mike, and I didn't want him to think it was because of him that my panic attacks weren't under control.

Mike did his best not to react too strongly, knowing Harvey was prone to shutting down extremely easily when such topics were being discussed. "Harvey, what caused this one? I get how you were highly stressed before and after the trial… did something happen?"

Harvey looked away from the TV, glanced at Mike and looked away again. Mike was looking at him calmly, no pity, just genuine concern in his furrowed eyebrows and his eyes did nothing to conceal the worry shining out of them. "I was thinking about how you turned down the consultancy offer. If you're not going to work with me, then you're eventually going to leave, as soon as you've got a new job. There'd be nothing holding you to here – "

Mike leaned over and put his hand on my shoulder lightly to get me to pay attention. He said softly, with a look of fondness coming over his features, "Harvey, me not working for you doesn't mean I'm leaving you. I won't ever leave you… intentionally," Mike added that last part with a faraway look in his eye, and I knew he was thinking of when he was in prison, how he couldn't help being away then. He refocused, taking his hand off my shoulder and running it through his hair. He said, "And you'd be holding me here – not in a bad way, but I care for you, I – " Mike cut himself off, and looked away, with a light blush coming over his face. He clearly had said more than he meant to say.

"You – what?" I asked, my eyes narrowing, trying to not get my hopes up. If he said what I thought he was going to say – but why would he? It didn't make sense, my mind was arguing against itself. He had no reason to ever feel more for me, not when I had brought him so many problems, I was the reason he went to jail, I was the reason, albeit partially, that he was in so much danger in prison, and just because I'd gotten him out early, didn't absolve me of the fact that it was my fault he was in there to begin with.

"Nothing," Mike mumbled, turning away as he did, pretending to focus on the movie that we'd both forgotten about.

But I was nothing if not a shark when it came to uncovering something someone was trying to hide, and knowing when to push to get what I wanted. "Mike, what were you going to say?"

Mike sighed, frustrated. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if pained, and then reopened his eyes, to look directly at me. He took a deep breath, and said, "I love you, Harvey."

And because he could see me opening my mouth to respond, he quickly cut me off, "I'm in love with you, Harvey." He looked away.

I snapped my mouth shut, not expecting that. I didn't think, I never let my mind even remotely consider the thought Mike would ever want more from me. I couldn't gather my wits fast enough, and yet my mouth opened, "Are you sure?"

And even as the words left my mouth, I winced, knowing that I couldn't have said anything worse than that after the man I had loved for so long had just told me he loved me.

Mike's turned to me so fast I figured he had gotten whiplash, with an incredulous look on his face, bordering on angry, exclaimed "Am I sure – of course I'm sure, Harvey! Why would I say something like that – potentially risking our friendship – if I wasn't sure?!"

"I'm sorry Mike," I tried. "I didn't mean it the way it came out. I just – I don't understand. How could you love me? All I've managed to do is wreak havoc on your life, you went to prison for me, and in prison you got stuck with someone who wanted revenge on me. Yet again, you took the fall for something that was on me. I'm selfish, and I can't keep the people I care for close to me, can't protect them, can't even show that I care for them properly," I burst out, not even meaning to say half of what I said. I buried my head in my hands, embarrassed at what I had let out, but also worried Mike would walk out. Some rational part of me knew he wouldn't, but a subconscious fear of mine always had been that everyone I would love would leave, driven away by me, the way i had caused my mom to leave, as my brother had said on multiple occasions. I had driven Donna away by my actions, Scottie, Zoey, and Mike had ended up in jail because of me. My past relationships, they no longer mattered to me, but Donna and Mike did. Yes, Donna came back, but it had never been the same. What had happened between us was always going to be there. I didn't want the same with Mike – didn't want him to leave me as well, and change the dynamic of what we had.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I still didn't move, not wanting to look at Mike, for fear of his reaction.

"Harvey?" Mike said gently, trying to get my attention. He tightened his hand slightly on my shoulder. I looked up, bringing my hands away from my face, but not able to hold eye contact with him for long. "I love you. I've loved you for a long time. You gave me an opportunity to turn my life around, you're loyal to a fault, and you've given me a family. You're my family."

At this point, it was all I could do but look into Mike's eyes as he spoke. He took a deep breath and said, "Yes, I went to prison, but Harvey, when we went into this, we did it with both our eyes open, and it was on both of us. You couldn't have known Gallo would be in prison, Harvey.

'And I'm sorry for what I said the first time you came to visit me. I shouldn't have blamed you or thrown any of it back in your face. You went above and beyond, did your utmost to stop me from going into prison, and then when it happened anyway, you did everything in your power and more to get me out as fast as possible."

Mike sat closer to me, with our legs touching at the knee, and he reached over, putting both his hands gently on either side of my face, turning it so we were breaths apart. I could feel his breath gently warming my face. "You might not be the most verbally expressive person, Harvey, but that doesn't mean your every action doesn't show the people who truly know you, that you care. Everything you've ever done for me has shown me you care. It's not your job to protect me or anyone else – not to the point where it eats up at you when it's not in your power to help them."

I could read the sincerity in his words, in his eyes, that he meant all of it. he honestly, truly loved me, he didn't blame me for any of it. I was in awe, and I raised my right hand to touch his hand on my face, wanting to hold his hand, to stroke it. He must've misread something in my movement, because he lowered his eyes, disappointment and hurt flashing across his face, before he pulled a blank expression. He put more distance in between us, while I wondered what had just happened. "Mike," I tried, reaching for his hand as it was pulling away.

Mike cut me off, going for a half-smile, trying to reassure me, "It's okay, I understand. I'm sorry. I – I hope we can go back to the way things were."

"Mike," I said again, anxiously, knowing if I didn't fix this now, it would fester, and I would lost the most valuable relationship I had. "No – I didn't mean." I tried again, frustrated I couldn't be articulate now, when I mattered most. " – Mike, I love you, goddamn it!"

I grabbed his face gently, pulling it closer to my own. I looked into his eyes, making sure he had enough time he could pull away if he wanted to, and instead Mike closed the distance between our lips. The kiss was gentle, unhurried at first, and then became more frantic, leaving both of us breathless. One of Mike's hands were in my hair, while the other was gripping me by my neck, holding me in place. My hands were gripped around his waist, pulling him closer. We pulled apart slowly, when air became necessary, and gazed into each others eyes. I smiled, not believing this was actually happening. It seemed too unbelievable that Mike would want me. What did I really have to offer? I was older in my years, and yes, I was in good shape, but my hours were not the best to foster a relationship, and I was indifferent, snarky and cold-hearted at the best of times. I had my own emotional issues, my history with my mother and the way it had left me untrusting, and with plenty of abandonment issues. Mike was the exact opposite, wearing his heart on his sleeve, always seeing the best in others, caring and expressive.

"Hey, hey," Mike said softly, bringing one of his hands to my face, cupping my cheek. "Where'd you go?"

I looked away, not wanting to admit, even after everything Mike had said, I still had doubts. I honestly didn't want to, but I couldn't help it. I shook my head, trying to clear it of the negative train of thought.

I smiled, telling a portion of the truth, "Just thinking. I never expected… this. Not with you."

Mike's expression dimmed a little, "Harvey." I knew I hadn't fooled him. He knew me better than most people. "There's nothing you can say or do that will make me leave, Harvey. Not unless you want me too."

"I don't – want you to leave, that is. I've loved you for longer than I can remember. I just never wanted to ruin what we had – because I valued our friendship above all else. I didn't want to lose that, lose you entirely, because I couldn't hold back how I feel."

Mike's face closed off. Even though he didn't physically pull away, Harvey could feel it. "You… you don't want… this?" Mike asked, pained. He pulled his hands away and moved to put distance between us.

I tightened my hold on him, refusing to let him move away. "No! Mike, yes, I do! If you want this, us, I'm all in. I just – I know my history with relationships. I've always done something, pushed them away and it hasn't been salvageable. I don't want that to happen here, not with you. And I don't want to lose you as a friend either. I don't think I'd be able to stand not having you in my life in some way."

I looked away after letting that out, feeling vulnerable and hating it. But I knew – it was only fair Mike knew what he was getting himself into. He needed to know, and I knew, despite the fleeting feeling of wanting to escape, that of all my past relationships, Mike was the one I could trust with this. Trust with me. That I could open up to. He had my back, hell he had gone to prison for me, of course I could trust him – but it was so much harder to trust another with your inner self.

Mike smirked, "Good luck trying to get rid of me – you're kind of stuck with me now, Harvey."

I hugged him closer for a moment, before stealing another kiss. As I held him close, I whispered, "I wouldn't have it any other way."