Life in Aphabet
Harvey Specter & Mike Ross (AU) (Bromance)
Disclaimer: Suits characters don't belong to me, they're property of their creators. I use them, as simple as that.
P for Pain
Today was one of those terrible days. One of the days when Harvey wished that his legs had been amputated, instead of being left with two mockings, with only ten percent of the force to move them and ninety percent of the sensation and, above all, the pain, of tension and spasms. ´
His legs, knees, waist and back were still experiencing intermittent bouts of agony from the burning nerve and muscle ruptured in the accident. Rainy mornings like that were the worst, and the humidity wasn't his friend or playing on his side. He could hardly think of anything other thing than his own suffering; it was easy to forget then that he had promised Mike a healthy and delicious breakfast before signing a multi-million dollar deal.
"Harvey?".
The managing partner heard his young pupil enter the apartment at his lack of response, and then walk up to his room with a restless step, but he did not even have the strength to shout an answer; if he did, an involuntary scream of pain might escape him. Harvey Specter lay on his bed, listening to the rain, feeling the car hit him over and over, and trying in vain to ignore the deaf thought that he wanted to die of a heart attack right there to avoid another day of those.
His will forced him to repeat himself that he would get up because the alarm sounded and that he was going to overcome the episode, he would do it because it was his duty, because he was granted a second chance, because he still has many pending solutions, because he does not want to give up; Mike, Rachel, Donna, Louis needed him. Mike wasn't ready to let him go, that was a fact. Harvey did not have the privilege of giving up, even though his body was on fire from the inside and there was no pain reliever that could stop the physical and emotional destruction caused by his illness.
"Harvey?"; Mike asked again, standing in the doorway.
"Mike", he answered through clenched teeth.
"Are you okay?"
"No", admitted the older, as he learned to do in the face of his ward's concern. He did not do himself any favors, not even to the young lawyer, denying that sometimes his indomitable spirit was not enough to overcome his paraplegia; he learned not to lie, not to hide, to give in, sometimes, to receive the help that was offered, without being blinded to the fact that it could lead more and more vulnerability over time.
Mike approached and saw him lying like a stuffed animal, just as he found him on the pavement after the accident, and already knew beforehand that it was "one of those days". A chill ran through the boy's body as he remembered the smell of his boss's blood, his moans, his vain attempts to breathe with a collapsed lung. He tried to clear his mind with a jolt.
"Okay, big boss. Why don't you stay and rest? I can take care of the deal".
"Mike, no" said the paralyzed man, although in reality resting was the only thing he wanted: to stay in that bed and not know anything about the world until the rain passed, the humidity dropped and his body did not feel like a prison of inflamed rock.
"Harvey, you don't have to prove anything to anyone".
"Mike, if I don't get up today, I won't do it any other day". That is his philosophy: surrender meant that the rest of the days would be overcome by trauma and injury. If he doesn't get out of bed and go to the wheelchair, he will doom himself to premature decline. He knows that one day he will be irretrievably condemned to practically living in a bed, as the doctors have warned him due to the seriousness of his previous injuries, so now he prefers to enjoy the freedom that the chair gives him. He can still, in a way, be him.
Mike nodded. It wasn't an argument that he was going to win: if he really wanted to help his mentor, it had to be his way and on his terms. That meant, that day, getting him out of bed, taking him to the wheelchair, to the shower, then to breakfast and to fulfill his obligations as managing partner. He was not going to argue with Harvey because that will only take away his strength, which is scarce and he needs it to survive the day, and because deep down Mike did not want to see Harvey plunged into misery on the edge of his bed, like a vision of an inevitable future; that doesn't relieve the common pain, it just aggravates it.
Mike walked over and sat on the side Harvey was lying on.
"How did you sleep, old man?", he said in a tone that tried to be light.
"Good, Mike. I dreamed that I could control the Force", Harvey replied with a sincere smile, though it was overshadowed by the pallor of his skin and the betrayal pain in his frown and shallow breathing. No, he did not sleep well, but he did not see the case of worrying his protégé anymore: it is enough to know that one day, sooner rather than later, his mentor's lung would give up again, and then not even with his huge brain and memory he could save him.
Mike laughed, because it seemed incredible to him that even in the face of the immense suffering that the icy New York mornings represented to him, Harvey found time for humor, pop culture references and sarcasm that characterized him. Even without his legs, Harvey was still Harvey.
"Okay, Obi-wan, I guess it's time to go to the shower", he warned, trying to convey assurance to his mentor about the coming fight: one of the most suffered movements for Harvey under those circumstances was to go from a reclining position to a sitting and lower his legs off the bed to touch the floor.
The lower part of his body was badly damaged as a result of the accident and although his life was no longer in danger in any way, several of his organs, muscles and nerves would not restore his health: a lung with lacerations, which made him susceptible to diseases and respiratory problems, a kidney with permanent scars whose consequences were not yet noticeable, but which would eventually lead to kidney failure, a weak and trembling right hand, practically unable to carry its own weight and legs with spasms and painful cramps, aggravated in winter times.
"If perhaps my padawan would deign to help me, perhaps I would be there by now", the older man said, as if demanding, when in fact they both knew that was the way he concealed his vulnerability.
Mike slowly pulled the cover off his mentor's body. He placed one hand under both shoulders and with the other he gently moved Harvey's hand behind his own, beginning to gently pull him up. Harvey tried to contribute the momentum with his good arm, but his atrophied right was dead weight and the pain that was climbing from his legs to the beginning of his spine threatened to make him pass out. He couldn't help grunting in pain, which for a moment startled Mike, who gave up his attempt and stood holding the weight of his boss's torso for a minute before continuing.
"One minute… one minute and we go on", the young man told him, his breathing accelerated with effort and concern etched in his eyes.
In those days, his back became like an immovable, rusty metal plate that tortured him with every movement, and his legs a pair of weights that were impossible to manipulate. He depended on the patience and strength of his associate to move him, and that was what frustrated the senior partner most: Mike had not asked to be a nurse, but there he was... loyal like very few, without question, always diligent, always attentive, always anticipating his needs.
"I'm fine, Mike", Harvey said between labored breaths. He squeezed his eyes shut to hide his pain, but he couldn't fool the young man.
"Rest for a few seconds", the minor told him, aware that this "I'm fine" was a lie, and he could read it in his watery eyes, in his face flushed with effort, in his muscles tense with suffering and his breathing difficult and accelerated.
Harvey could see the concern, affection and sadness in his protégé's blue eyes, and he couldn't understand how it is that he hasn't had the courage to put an end to it once and for all: not only did he suffer, but those around him, seeing that he was wearing away little by little, and sooner or later he would disappear into a shadow of himself. He knew why he didn't, but that didn't persuade him when agony broke him: he imagined Mike or Donna or Rachel finding his body and the suicide note, and the thought made him nauseous; then he gave up any attempt, no matter how much the idea of finally resting from so much pain tempted him. He never imagined that he would face the challenge of living for others, and that his strength would be in them and not in himself.
"Ready?", Mike asked, trying to show that his arm hadn't gotten tired from carrying Harvey's weight.
The older one nodded.
In the end they won the battle, and with the help of some god and their mutual conviction not to let the disease defeat them, at least not that morning, Mike managed to seat his mentor and prop him up against two pillows. Harvey was still breathing hard, and even when he was sitting firmly, he would not let go of his pupil's arm from where he had latched to try to cooperate. His forehead was sweaty from exertion and his chest rose and fell at a rate that ended up puzzling Mike. He saw in the face of the managing partner a fatigue that he knew would accompany him for the rest of the day and for which he would need to resort to his most powerful painkillers, those that he did not like because they dull his mind and made him look lethargic.
"Thanks, kid", was the first thing the older man said, even if he could barely speak.
Yes, perhaps Mike did not imagine the scope of those words; it was a kind of help Harvey couldn't pay for. There was no money for that kind of concern and kindness. But Mike knew that he owed much more than that to his mentor.
"Are you okay, Harvey?" I think I should give you the injection… ", Mike mused when he saw how much his mentor's muscles were shaking.
"No, Mike…".
"You have a lot of pain. You won't be able to stay like this all day".
"Please no, kid. That pain reliever keeps me from concentrating, makes me drowsy, and I can barely reason. I need to be alert for the signing of the deal".
"It's okay. Only if you don't push yourself and let me help you".
"I don't have many options, do I?". The managing partner smiled bitterly.
"I'm sorry, Harvey".
"You do not have to apologize. This is not your fault".
"I wish I could ease it".
"Maybe if you had impersonated a doctor…". Harvey shakes his head. "Do not worry kid. It's a bad day, nothing more".
"What do you want for lunch?". Mike asks before resuming his task of placing him in his wheelchair. "Maybe a steak?".
"I'm more focused on keeping what I have in place".
"Very well, but you promised something delicious".
Harvey smiles with a half lip. He knows what his protégé is doing: trying to keep his attention focused on something other than his scared physique, the one that feels about to break down. It is not effective, but it is appreciated: "Mike…".
The younger is entertained in the older's closet, choosing a matching three-piece suit, one of those suits that makes his mentor look like a bulldog, capable of replacing the managing partner's old height in the dynamics of negociating. In bargaining negotiations his 6 feet are missed.
"You are a good Padawan. I wouldn't have gotten up today without you".
"Yes, you would have. For heaven's sake, you are Harvey Specter, member of the Jedi council, captain of the Enterprise; of course, you would have gotten up".
"Maybe you're right, Anakin Skywalker-scared-of-heights". Harvey pushes himself to shore. It might not be such a terrible day after all.
That's it. I hope you like it. It is not common finding Hurt!Harvey, but I like it because Harvey is always so strong and powerful. It is interesting seeing him in a position were Mike and the others can help him.