A/N: Standard disclaimers apply

Chapter 3

Harvey's at his desk, trying and failing to work through a case-file when Donna knocks on his open door. He looks up, surprised that she hadn't buzzed him.

She doesn't say anything and nods to a young man whose standing by her side. ('Benjamin' she tells him. 'He likes Mike, apparently.') By the grim look and hard-set to her eyes he figures she already knows it's bad.

"Okay," He announces, readying himself.

Donna moves back out of the office and Benjamin moves in. Donna hovers for a second – hesitant and fierce and smothering – and he shakes his head before looking pointedly at her desk. He trusted Donna completely, relied on her for so many things and so much more, but this wasn't about him. This was Mike and he wouldn't let anyone know until he'd a) knew what the hell he was dealing with and b) had it out with Mike.

He sees a visible scowl and a defeated roll of a sigh before she closes the door after them and heads for her desk. He makes a effort to make sure his intercom is not on and glances up to see Donna sitting, looking at him with a little shrug and a roll of the eyes.

"Mr Specter," Benjamin says, stepping forward with what looked like a disc in his hand. "You really have to look at this."

He hands the disc to him and Harvey palms it, staring at the small plain and non-descript piece of plastic. He's stalling, mentally preparing himself. He's not sure, right at this moment, if he wants to know, to know what has drastically changed his bounding puppy into a miserable faux-Harvard drone.

"What's on it?" he asks the IT expert, looking at him from across the desk and wonders what he is actually asking him.

He's not a lot older than Mike – almost, in this particular situation at least, out of depth, pale and uncomfortable, hands folded in his lap.

"Screen grabs, suspicious emails – mostly unknown senders, some from colleagues," Benjamin says with a shrug. A nervous hand rises and runs through his hair. "Personal details, links to external web-pages..."

Benjamin rolls to a stop but Harvey is left with a sinking feeling that there's more.

"It would just be easier to play it and see for yourself."

He takes a breath, hesitates and then takes the plunge.

The disc whirls to life. Benjamin's made it pretty easy to navigate – an impressive slide show of an alarming amount of bullying? Was that even the right word. It seemed so much more. Bullying was bad enough, but this... this was dark and twisted and soul destroying and Harvey didn't have a word for it.

Emails after emails. Hundred's of instant messages

'You're out of your depth'

'Looser'

'Can't hack it, Rookie?'

'You lost'

'Pathetic'

'Useless'

'What does he see in you?...'

- WHAT DID YOU DO, GOLDEN BOY?

Harvey stills, hand frozen over the mouse, at the pornographic images, Mike's face, contortions of bodies and a clear message that Mike would do anything.

That wasn't the worst though. There were months and months worth of harassment there. From what Harvey could see, it had started out in plain jealousy and related to Mike and work and then veered completely off track into a downward spiral that splintered across the web and covered many subjects – mainly horrendous and vile slurs that made Harvey pale and blood boil simultaneously. He felt his jaw lock and the tension rise, building from his clawed fingers, still grasping at the mouse, and winding it's way through him until it blanketed his body, engulfing his chest and pinching his jaw shut.

One of the pages – a screen grab – shows how Mike had followed a link to a facebook page. There's at least two dedicated to him and their(s) mutual dislike of him.

Bash mike

I hate Mike

Harvey doesn't know why – the kid was the stupidest inoffensive puppy-like individual you could meet. He hadn't felt this much anger in a long time and seriously felt like bashing someone – plunging his fist into whoever was responsible, one or hundred, and break their scrawny little necks.

There's many comments on these pages too – some, thankfully not dedicated to anti-Mike comments, and quite a few taking offence to the implication that Mike was anything other than the 'nicest guy you could meet' and 'shut this down, you sicko' – that reflect the emails and IM's from before. There's also several messages showing a small picture of Mike with his number, his actual number (Harvey might not have Mike's memory, but he made sure to know that number) and a 'Call me for a good fuck.'

Harvey felt the plastic grain and creak under his fingers, but it was the last few messages that really threw him into a tail-spin. He felt bile touch his lips as he swallowed the acidy reflux down.

Why don't you just die?

Nobody will miss you

JUST DO IT, ALREADY!

I BET YOU CAN'T EVEN DO THAT RIGHT. DOWN, NOT ACROSS

Harvey's completely stilled now and doesn't react. He's staring at the last four messages with a building incredulous anger. Someone is, not only telling Mike (vulnerable. exposed. innocent. validation seeking. praise needing. worldly wise and yet so young. his.) to kill himself, but how.

He feels his teeth crack against each other.

"There's another page," Benjamin murmurs from across the desk. "I tried to collect it in chronological order. The last page should be the last thing he looked at."

Harvey doesn't hesitate this time – hits the down button immediately – because he's gone past wondering if he really wants to know and is now fully in 'I have a damn right' territory, because someone is fucking with his associate and he's going to have their head on a platter.

Harvey really wants to vomit right now. The page is split into two, the screen black apart from two crude graphics halfway down the screen. Two gravestone's sit in their own boxes.

Mike's face is on one with a headstone description 'R.I.P. Mike Ross. Bastard Son'. The other had what Harvey presumed was Mike's grandmother.

'R.I.P. Grammy Ross. Grandmother & Guardian to a whore of a grandson.'

He doesn't say anything, just continues staring at the screen and thinks back to Mike standing abruptly from his desk, breathing heavy and 'which one of you was it?'

"Sir?" Benjamin asks softly and he looks up, blinking with bleary eyes.

He hasn't cried in many years, but he feels this is a moment that actually warrants a few tears (he doesn't, of course) because the kid has got under his skin and shifted everything like a ridiculous google tumble roll (strangely addictive, when you have the time).

"What do you call it?" he asks, still stuck on the right term. The term it deserves. Dark. Villainous. Nefarious. Despairing that someone could be so cruel to another? For what purpose? Entertainment. Natural jealousy. Survival of the fittest (if that was the case, he knew far better, more intelligent and superior ways to do so). No purpose other than they can?

Harvey hated to think what their purpose was, but he was left with a certainty that the firm's associates' were a pack of unpolished wolf's circling each other. There'd been victim's before, and Mike was surely not the last, but Harvey had never witnessed so much vindictiveness before.

"I think the term is cyber-bullying, Sir," Benjamin answers, uncertain what Harvey is asking of him.

Harvey releases the mouse, and feels the pulse in his thumb throb in response.

"I asked what you call it?" Harvey repeats with a shake of his head.

"Disgusting," Benjamin answers without any hesitation. "It's... I don''t know – bad, really bad. I've had to do similar traces where I used to work. I've never seen it this bad-" he pauses and shrugs. "I don't have a word for it, so I'll settle on disgusting. What would you call it?"

Harvey blinks at the throwback and he comes to realise that if this Benjamin likes Mike, Mike must have spent some time with him, and he's already seeing why they might get on because Harvey's seeing a little bit of his associate.

"Something more," he says simply. That much they both agree on.

xx

Harvey is angry... in fact he's fuming.

He'd sent Benjamin back to IT with strict instructions and would call him when he's ready. This left him pacing his office in a useless attempt to try and quell the waving tides of anger, each time he'd thought he'd breathed through it, it came crushing back and settling like acid across his chest. There was no point in sticking his head back into any of his case files. He was too blinded by the red mist building in him.

Donna had attempted to squeeze more information from him but he stonewalled her rather quickly. He ignored the brief look of hurt that flashed across her face in favour of concentrating on controlling the rage that was coiled throughout him, body tense and ready to strike... at anything. Best not his best assistant.

He sent her back to her desk and asked her to keep an eye out for his associate, and she nodded with reluctance and sloped off throwing worried frowns intermittently, but the building rage grew, causing him to pace. That pacing took him out of his office and in front of Donna's desk as he walked back and fourth, impatient and frustrated. Donna, for which he was grateful, seemed to accept his presence with a stoic, if not suspicious, silence but when he hesitatingly raised a hand to his mouth and rested a nail against his teeth ready to nibble, she raised a questionable eyebrow.

"Okay, now I'm really worried."

xxx

Harvey's still fuming. The fact that he doesn't yet know who is actually responsible was not helping and he's just about loosing the cool exterior, body thrumming, anger simmering – seconds away from full out boiling – control slowly slipping away like melting wax.

It's probably why he stalks over to Mike, when he finally does re-appear – heading towards his cubicle – and is pulling one of his ear buds out with one hand and attempting to dump his bag on the desk with his other when Harvey's hand encircles his elbow tightly and tugs.

Mike startles, the remaining ear bud falling from his ear and his bag tottering dangerously on the edge of the desk before falling. A few pens and a couple of papers fall in the process.

"My office. Now." he hisses quietly, leaning in close to his associate.

"Uh... okay..." he stumbles over his words and throws Harvey a confused look before waving at his downed messenger bag. "Let me just-"

"Leave it," Harvey practically growls into the kid's ear and Mike instantly stiffens and straightens. He looks at Harvey, clear confusion, worry and Harvey hates to admit, fear plastered across his face. He contemplates squeezing the rookie's elbow reassuringly or letting go, but wants to do neither, and so ends tightening his hold and pulling him away from the cubicle and curious glances from the other associates.

In fact, Harvey doesn't let go at all, and steers him out of the pen and to his office. As they pass Donna, he feels Mike hesitate and glance at her, who in return smiles reassuringly. Thank god that there's still someone who can at least offer that.

He practically has to drag the kid the last few feet. If Mike hadn't realised how mad Harvey's feeling, the slamming door does. He shakes out of Harvey's pinching hold and takes a step away, looking bewildered, first at the door – as if expecting the glass to splinter and shatter – and then at Harvey.

His face is still a mixture of confusion and fear. He takes one step closer to him and then changes his mind and steps back.

"Are you... mad at me?" Mike finally asks, voice hesitant and skipping. Harvey steps fully away, round the desk and paces in front of the glass. He doesn't know why he's taking it out on the kid... of he course he knows he's angry at someone, but he just can't help it bubbling over. Somewhere at the back of his mind he thinks he might be angry at himself for not seeing, but he pushes that aside and focuses on the fact that his idiotic associate has been putting up with a shit-load of pressure and ignoring it. Something that they might actually have something in common. It takes a second to realise that Mike's still talking. Rambling his way to salvation and Harvey has to switch gears to try and catch up. "... Is it about earlier? Because, if it is, I know I was out of line. Did I fuck up somewhere? I mean, more than usual."

Nervous laughter. A pleading face. Harvey thinks, after discussing the obvious, they seriously need to work on the kid's lack of confidence and need for praise and acknowledgement. A battle winning, top class lawyer, didn't go to court with those issues like hanging threads.

Mike seems to think his lack of response is an invitation to continue to plead his case, even though he hasn't a clue as to what he's fighting. "Is that why you sent me with Louis? As punishment?" Mike shudders, face wrinkling in disgust. "... Do you have any idea of the afternoon I've had, Harvey? The car crapped out on us and Louis has some pathological aversion to the subway, so we had to walk and I'm pretty sure he made some kid cry just by looking at her. What ever it is Harvey, I'll sort it. Just let-"

"Mike!" Harvey snaps at him and Mike's mouth shuts quickly.

"Seriously, Harvey-" Mike asks, worry evident in his voice, quiet and timid. "What's going on?"

Harvey stops his pacing, turns and faces Mike and stares hard, finally finding his voice.

"What's going on? What the fuck is going on?" he asks, incredulous and damn it, the stupid kid's unintentionally riding his anger like a wave. He grips the computer monitor with tight fingers and spins it. "This is what's going on."

He watches as Mike's face slowly looses all it's color.

"Shit."

Understatement of the year.

xxx

tbc