Hey everyone! I'm so sorry that it's been such a long time; having computer troubles while living in a foreign country isn't exactly conducive to much fic writing. Much thanks go to phoenix on cloud nine for putting up with my daily complaints about my computer's lack of functioning battery XD I originally planned to post a different chapter, one with 20 year old Mike. But that one is currently sitting half-finished on my dead computer, so I wrote this one with 21 year old Mike instead. The time line might be a little blurry because there are things that I was going to explain in the 20 year old chapter that are missing here. But for the sake of this chapter you don't have to know much other than the fact that Mike is 21 and he's a first year associate. Hope you enjoy!

All I ever needed was a landline

Just in case the powerlines go down

All I needed would never be enough for me

From "Landline" by Greg Laswell and Ingrid Michaelson

"Donna, have you seen Mike today?" Harvey asked his secretary, trying not to frown and appear too outwardly concerned about his son's conspicuous absence from the halls of Pearson Hardman.

"No," Donna said shortly, tapping away at her keyboard and not even sparing him a glance. Harvey allowed a puzzled frown to cross his face at Donna's atypical unwillingness to engage in their usual repartee of witty banter.

"What crawled up your cubicle and died?" Harvey asked, knowing that he was playing with fire but hoping it would get him some answers.

Sure enough, Donna's head snapped up from the computer monitor, her eyes blazing with irritation. "Sometimes people are grumpy, Harvey, because they have to wake up at 5 o'clock in the morning to make certain that their lazy boss gets his ass out of bed and gets to court on time. And sometimes said ungrateful boss drinks his amazing secretary's precious morning coffee and the poor underappreciated secretary is forced to slave away for the rest of the day in a completely unnatural state of decaffeination."

Harvey blinked at this sudden and unexpected torrent of vitriol and hastily attempted some damage control. "Okay, okay, I get it. You need a coffee break. I'm sorry I drank your coffee—here, forget about rearranging the schedule and go get a coffee on me—"

But Donna apparently wasn't finished. "And what makes the situation even worse is when the ungrateful boss' son owes the lovely secretary a coffee but hasn't come in all morning to humbly offer up the owed coffee. And if you don't know who I'm referring to, Harvey, that would be your son."

"Why is he only 'my son' when he's done something wrong?" Harvey muttered irritably, checking his watching and frowning when he saw the time. "Louis came in and complained about Mike owing him a revised brief and asked me where he is. Mike hasn't been in at all today?"

Donna's wrath seemed to suddenly subside just as quickly as it had come on. "No," she sighed tiredly. "Not that I would know much about it. I've been swamped all morning trying to rearrange all your meetings. Have you tried his phone?"

Harvey nodded wordlessly, feeling the first traces of genuine concern begin to stir and itch beneath the surface of his skin.

"Maybe he's still asleep. It's barely 10 in the morning, Harvey, and Mike's only just out of his teens," Donna suggested reassuringly, her manicured fingers subtly tapping out Mike's phone number on her cell.

She looked up at Harvey when Mike didn't answer, frowning slightly herself now.

"He's never overslept this late before," Harvey pointed out. "Maybe I should go back to the apartment and see if he's okay." He wondered not for the first time if Mike was too young to be working at Pearson Hardman as an associate. Sure, the kid was already 21 and was legally an adult. And yes, okay, he had graduated from Harvard Law at the top of his class after studying there for just one year. But he was still a good 5 or 6 years younger than all the other associates. And just because he was more than capable of handling the heavy intellectual workload didn't mean that he wasn't constantly running himself ragged in his efforts to be the best lawyer he could be and get the partners to notice him.

Donna was right. Mike was only 21 years old—if he were in college right now like most of his peers, he'd probably still be asleep right now. He probably wouldn't have to get up until noon to go to class and then head off to work nights at a pizzeria making minimum wage.

But as it was, Mike was up and off to Pearson Hardman at the crack of dawn most days, sometimes before Harvey even woke up. And he was there until long past dark every night.

And sometimes, Harvey wondered if it was all too much. If he should have made Mike wait a few more years until he was the same age as the other associates before starting to work. God knows the kid would be able to fit in better with his peers if he were a few years older. But Mike had been so excited to start his work as a lawyer; had been dreaming about it for years and years... and so Harvey had given in and given his consent when Jessica had asked his opinion about hiring Mike as one of the first year associates. And Mike was thrilled to be working at Pearson Hardman (even though Louis was in charge of all the associates) so it had all worked out. And Harvey didn't regret his choice. Most days, anyway.

But he just...worried about the kid sometimes. Mike had thrown himself into his work as an associate with a fervor that Harvey both admired and sometimes despaired of. In his opinion, Mike was missing out on his youth—hell, when Harvey was 21 he'd been hungover most mornings, not sitting in a cubicle poring over legal texts. And he knew that Mike's work ethic would take him far and he was immeasurably proud of the kid's accomplishments. But he was also afraid that Mike was putting too much pressure on himself to be perfect. And Harvey feared that some of that was because Mike still had this unquenchable need to gain Harvey's approval; that deep down he still didn't believe that Harvey would love him all the same regardless of if he was a homeless bum for the rest of his life or the best lawyer in the world. And he didn't know how to tell Mike that he was more than enough just as he was; that Harvey understood that Mike was going to make mistakes and have troubles during his first few years in the legal field.

But he tried to show his unconditional support the best that he could. That was why Mike still lived with him at the apartment— the young lawyer had been insistent that he could fend for himself and get his own apartment and live on his own now that he had an adult job. But Harvey had tactfully pointed out that Mike wasn't going to have time to cook for himself or do his own laundry with the crazy hours that he'd be working as an associate, and that most of his friends would live with their parents until they finished college when they were 22. Mike hadn't needed that much convincing after that—he'd agreed to live at home as soon as Harvey had mentioned having to forage for food by himself (just because he was 21 didn't mean he didn't still eat like a teenager) but "just til I'm 22, Dad."

And Harvey had left it at that. He was reluctant to admit it, but he was finding it hard to walk the line between friend and father now that Mike was moving into his adult years. Mike had always been incredibly independent, but now he was even more so and Harvey felt like they were going through a slight shift in their relationship as the years slipped by. He didn't know when it was appropriate to intervene and take charge of things and when to let Mike stumble and fall and pick himself up anymore. For the most part he wanted Mike to retain his independence and grow up and learn from his own mistakes. But some part of him still clung to the memory of 14-year-old Mike who watched Harvey's every move and tried to emulate it. Or 18-year-old Mike who had headed off to Harvard and battled with homesickness the entire time he was there. He had already missed the first 14 years of Mike's childhood, and to him it felt like Mike had grown up way too fast. Had it really been 7 years already? Where had the time gone?

But at least the fact that Mike lived at the apartment allowed Harvey to make sure that the kid ate and slept (as much as a first year associate could be expected to sleep, anyway). And he usually checked for signs of life in the morning to make sure the kid had gotten up and made it out the door to work—used breakfast dishes in the sink, empty coffee mug, etc. But this morning he'd gotten up extra early to make it to court on time (okay, so Donna had had to call him to wake him up and remind him to get his ass out the door to meet her at court for the pre-trial meeting, but who cared about that?) and he hadn't had time to see if Mike was up or still in bed. Or if Mike was even in the apartment.

And now he didn't know where Mike was.

He was just about to head back into his office to grab his keys to go to the apartment and check up on Mike, when he heard said young lawyer's voice from around the corner, growing louder as he approached Donna's desk. "Morning, Donna," Mike called out cheerfully from down the hallway. "I brought you your coffee; sorry it's late. I'll bring you another tomorrow to make up for it, I promise. Hey, has Harvey noticed—"

"Yes, Harvey has noticed the fact that you're showing up for work 2 hours late," Harvey said and Mike winced as he rounded the corner and saw his father standing at Donna's desk.

"Sorry, Harvey," Mike said, sounding genuinely remorseful. He almost always called Harvey 'Harvey' when the two of them were at work. He already had enough trouble fitting in with the other associates, who were all very competitive and jealous of Mike's prodigious talent—the last thing he needed was for it to become common knowledge that Harvey was his adoptive father.

"You and I need to have a little chat," Harvey said neutrally, leading a nervous-looking Mike into his office.

"Look, Harvey, I know that you're a senior partner, but Louis already tore me to shreds and assigned me about 10 days work to be completed by the end of today, so you don't have to worry about lecturing me or punishing me. This isn't really your jurisdiction, and trust me; I'm suffering the consequences for my actions," Mike said, wincing at the bright, natural light flooding through Harvey's office windows. Technically Mike was correct, but Harvey still wanted to figure out the story behind this uncharacteristic truancy.

"Hungover?" Harvey asked drily, recognizing the signs.

"Just a bit," Mike shrugged guiltily and attempted what was probably supposed to be a charming but-you-still-love-me-anyway face but really came out as more of a oh-god-where-are-my-sunglasses-when-I-need-them face.

"So you're late because you went out and got drunk last night?" Harvey asked curiously, thinking about the irony of his earlier musings about Mike's lack of social life.

"Well...I wasn't that drunk," Mike said, looking hopefully at Harvey as though he thought this might help his case. "Okay, look—some of my buddies from Harvard called me around midnight to say that they were in town for the night so I went to go meet them at the bar for a drink. I haven't seen them in a few months and they were only here for a little bit and one drink turned into...more than one drink after awhile. And the next thing I know I'm at home waking up at 9:30 in the morning. Then Louis punished me. It was my fault and I'm sorry. End of story."

Harvey felt the corners of his lips turn up slightly as he listened to Mike's familiar rambling. But at the same time, he wondered what to do in this situation—did he play the father card and lecture Mike about going out irresponsibly on a work night? Or did he just let Louis' punishment serve its purpose and say nothing else? After all, Mike was 21 and all his actions had been legal. And he was pleased that Mike was getting out of his cubicle every once in awhile and enjoying himself, even if this incident had interfered with work.

Mike seemed to sense Harvey's internal conflict. "Well? Are you going to lecture me, Harvey?"

Harvey shook his head slowly. "No. You already said yourself that it was your fault and that now you're paying the consequences for your actions. I would just recommend that you think about your little unscheduled lie-in the next time you want to go out on a work night."

Mike rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. You're always going on and on about how I need to get more sleep. And now you lecture me about having a lie-in?"

"Sleeping in after working 70 hours a week is a little different from sleeping in after going out drinking on a Tuesday night," Harvey said wryly. "Really, Mike, I'm not mad. You're an adult, and it's your responsibility to make it into work on time."

Mike looked surprised by Harvey's ambivalence. Had this been two years earlier, he surely would have been on the receiving end of quite a lecture about conscientiousness and punctuality. "Ok. Thanks. Well, if that's all, I'll just be going—"

But Mike's plan to leave was momentarily interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. He frowned and rummaged through his bag before drawing his cell out.

"Do you mind if I take this call here? I don't want Louis to see me not working and assign me another 1000 pages," Mike asked.

Harvey just waved dismissively and sat down at his desk to work. He tuned out the sound of Mike greeting whoever was on the other line and was just beginning to get absorbed into the contract that he was revising when—

Crash.

Mike's cell phone slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor of Harvey's office.

Harvey looked up in surprise to see Mike standing in the middle of his office, looking absolutely stricken.

"Mike, what...?" He began, getting to his feet and making his way to stand in front of his son, who was pale and shaking.

Mike open his mouth to say something but no words came out. He cleared his throat. "Grammy," he said, and Harvey felt his heart drop into his stomach.

"Grammy had a heart attack last night," Mike murmured shakily, looking about a second from lapsing into total histrionics. Harvey gently steered him backwards and pushed on his shoulders until he sank down to sit on the couch. "Oh God, what if—"

"Who was that on the phone, Mike?" Harvey interrupted gently, crouching down to be at Mike's eye level.

"Henry Morris," Mike said, his gaze far away. "He said it happened around 5 in the morning. He still doesn't know what the prognosis is..." Mike's hands suddenly grabbed onto the lapels of Harvey's suit. "I need to go to Florida right now, Dad," he said urgently. "I can't just sit here in New York when..."

"Donna—" Harvey began to say, knowing that his secretary was listening.

"Already booked 2 flights to Florida. Plane leaves in 2 hours, so you might want to get a move on," Donna's voice said over the intercom.

And this is why I pay Donna so much money, Harvey thought gratefully. "Okay, Mike. Let's go. We'll have to stop at the apartment really quickly and then we'll go to Florida, alright?" He said, keeping his tone of voice gentle. Mike nodded numbly and stood up.

"I'm going to go get my stuff from the associate bull pen," Mike said, his voice sounding oddly detached as he walked away. Harvey frowned. The last thing that Mike needed was to be distancing himself emotionally from the situation. Frankly, he would prefer it if Mike got hysterical and cried because at least he'd be dealing with his feelings on the subject then. He's probably just in shock, Harvey thought to himself as he gathered up his things and went to talk to Donna.

He was at least grateful for the small miracle that Mike had brought Donna her coffee before this had all happened, because he had a bad feeling that his secretary was going to have a lot of rescheduling to do over the next few days.

Mike maintained his neutral, indifferent front the whole plane ride to Florida and all the way to the hospital, and frankly, Harvey found it rather concerning. Mike normally wore his heart on his sleeve, his every single thought and emotion projected through his eyes and his body language. It was one of his greatest struggles as a young lawyer—to develop a good pokerface and not shout his every thought from the mountaintops via his facial expressions.

But now to see him like this, so emotionally controlled and reverted into his own mind in the midst of a family crisis...well, it was disconcerting. Harvey didn't know if Mike was trying to be manly or what, but he spent the entire plane ride staring coolly and expressionlessly out the window, his mouth taut, his face pale, and his eyes bone dry. He wouldn't respond to Harvey's attempts at reassuring him and he seemed completely lost in his thoughts; thoughts that he wouldn't let Harvey draw him out of with small talk and easy conversation.

And Harvey was pretty certain that they weren't happy thoughts.

When they got to the hospital, Mike solemnly greeted a distraught, aggrieved Henry Morris and sank down to sit by him, shoulders slumped and looking far older than 21. Harvey, who cared deeply about Edith but wasn't immediate family in the same way that Mike and Henry Morris were, began trying to emulate Donna. He got the two of them coffee while they were waiting, talked to the nurses to see when they thought there'd be news about Edith (ignoring the grim way the head nurse had shaken her head when he'd asked after Edith Morris), and finally, when he could think of nothing else helpful to do, he sat down to wait with Mike and Henry Morris.

"She'll be okay," Henry Morris spoke up after awhile, placing a hand on Mike's shoulder. His voice was gravelly and sad, and Harvey wondered if Henry was thinking about his first wife, who had died of a stroke a few years before he had met Edith. "She's strong, Mike. And she knows that she's got a lot of people who care about her. She'll fight as hard as she can to stay with us."

And that was when the first cracks in Mike's mask of composure began to appear. Harvey didn't know if Henry Morris noticed—probably not; the elderly man certainly had enough things to preoccupy him at the moment— but Harvey knew Mike's body language. Even if he didn't always know how to handle new, adult Mike, he still knew how to read his son's face like an open book.

And at this comment by Henry Morris, Mike began shifting around in his seat, his fingers twitching and clenching slightly and his light blue eyes darkening slightly with what looked like...guilt?

Harvey frowned. He had raised Mike through his teenage years, he certainly knew what Mike's face looked like when he felt guilty. But what would Mike be feeling bad about? He had expected fear, sadness, grief...but not guilt.

"Mike," He stood. "A word, please," he said in a tone that booked no argument.

Mike frowned up at Harvey. "I want to wait here, Harvey," he said, his voice quiet and tight.

But Harvey didn't want to do this in front of Henry Morris, and he knew that Mike didn't either.

"Louis just texted me with a question about the Harley brief," he lied. "Come over here for a minute and talk to me about the bylaws so I can tell Louis what he needs to know."

"Tell Louis that he can take his bylaws and shove them up his—"

"Mike."

"Alright, fine," Mike conceded grumpily, clambering wearily to his feet at Harvey's warning tone of voice, suddenly sounding exactly like the teenager that he had been not too long ago.

And that was exactly why he didn't want Mike repressing his emotions like that, it only led to irrational anger, Harvey thought to himself in exasperation as he walked briskly to the end of the hallway where they could talk privately but still see if the doctor came by with news. Mike shuffled moodily behind, his eyes still dry and his face tight with irritation, guilt etched into the shadows of his eyes.

"What exactly is going through your mind right now?" Harvey asked, trying carefully not to sound accusing. The last thing he needed was for Mike to get defensive.

"I don't want to talk about my feelings, Harvey," Mike fairly growled. "And I know that Louis didn't actually text you."

"Mike, if you think that any of this is your fault for some reason—"

"Why the hell would any of this be my fault?!" Mike exploded. "Just because I live in a completely different state and only see Grammy a few times a year doesn't mean that it's my fault that she had a heart attack or anything!" Mike ranted, sounding oddly sarcastic for something that should have been a completely true and unironic statement.

Ahh. There it was.

"Mike, for someone who passed the bar without studying, that is some of the most flawed deductive reasoning that I've ever heard," Harvey said, glad that Mike was talking now because now he understood. "You know that the fact that you live in New York has nothing to do with your grandmother's health."

"But what if it does?" Mike asked, suddenly sounding incredibly young and vulnerable. He turned his body away from Harvey to look out the window, refusing to meet Harvey's gaze. "What if she doesn't know how much she means to me? You heard Henry Morris, he said she'll fight harder to survive if she thinks a lot of people care about her. Does she know what she means to me? I haven't...I haven't called her in ages, Harvey. What if she dies, and I don't get to tell her that I love her and thank her for everything she's done for me? What if she dies and I can't even remember the last time I had a conversation with her?!" Mike's voice rose with emotion and Harvey took a step closer. He grabbed gently Mike by the shoulders and turned him to face him.

"Mike," he said, looking into the young man's eyes seriously, not removing his hands from his son's shoulders. "Your grandmother knows that you love her. Don't you ever doubt that, you hear me? And she understands that you're busy right now with work. She doesn't blame you or think you love her any less just because you chose to live in New York. She just wants what's best for you, and right now New York is the best place for you to follow your dreams. You'd be miserable if you lived in Florida, and we all know that. So no more guilt, alright? Grammy is going to do the best she can to make it through this for your sake and for Henry Morris's sake."

Mike looked away, his eyes appearing a bit watery now. He bit his lower lip and blinked fiercely. "But last night I wasn't busy with work," He whispered guiltily. "Harvey, I was drunk in a bar while my grandmother was dying. What kind of grandson am I? She could have died instantly and Henry Morris could have called to tell me I wouldn't have even remembered it in the morning!"

Harvey smiled. "Mike," he said gently. "There's nothing wrong with going out and having fun with your friends. In fact, I don't think you take enough time off to have fun with your friends. Mind you, I'm not saying that you should go out like that on a work night again, but you need to stop beating yourself up. Besides, Mike," he said, steering Mike over to look out the window at the brilliant Florida sunset. The hospital they were at somehow had an incredible view of the ocean, and it was a peaceful sight in the midst of all of this turmoil. "Do you think that your grandmother wants you to sit inside next to the telephone, waiting for a phone call to come to tell you that something bad has happened?"

Mike shook his head slowly, his exhausted gaze following the flight path of a seagull.

"I'm sure she doesn't. Because that's not living, Mike. You of all people know that bad things can happen at any time—look what happened to your parents, for one. But you shouldn't feel guilty for getting out of the house and enjoying yourself. Focus on being young right now, and it'll all fall into place eventually when it's meant to. Because if there's anything certain about life, it's that it's short and bound to end at some point. So don't waste it buried in paperwork in your cubicle or sitting by the phone," Harvey said, thinking about the phone call he'd gotten 8 years ago telling him that his father was dead, and reflecting on all that had changed since then.

Mike nodded silently, his lips pursed. "I get what you're saying, but I just...I don't want Grammy to die," he said, definitely sounding a bit tearful now. "I'm not ready for her to go. I still need her, Dad," he choked out desperately. Harvey was suddenly reminded of the 14-year-old Mike that Harvey had met 7 years ago. And the 11-year-old Mike that he hadn't known, who also hadn't been ready for his parents to go but had had them wrenched away abruptly anyway. His heart ached sharply and he wished that there was some way to fix this situation; to take this burden away from his son. But Edith was 77 years old, and the fact remained that whether it was in one year or ten years, she was going to die eventually, just like everyone else in the world.

"I know, Mike," Harvey said. "But we'll face this together, no matter what happens. You're not alone. Hey, come here," he said, opening his arms to the young lawyer, who came willingly, burrowing his head into Harvey's neck and wetting his suit with his tears, his face and resolve to remain strong and aloof finally crumpling when comfort was offered.

As Harvey held Mike in his arms while he shook with silent sobs, he sent a prayer up to all the higher powers he could think of that Edith would be okay, if only for Mike's sake.

And he realized that for the first time in awhile, he had known exactly how to respond to Mike's needs.

Maybe he could do this parenting-a-young-adult thing after all.

The didn't have to wait much longer after that.

When Mike had cried himself out, they went back and sat down next to Henry Morris, who kindly pretended not to notice Mike's red eyes or the wet spot on the collar of Harvey's suit.

How things have changed since the first time that Mike and I met in a hospital 7 years ago, both waiting on news about Edith! Harvey thought wryly just as the doctor rounded the corner to come talk to them.

Mike jumped to his feet anxiously. "How is she? What's going on? Is she going to be okay—"

The doctor held a hand up to cut off Mike's rapid-fire chain of questions and Harvey's heart dropped into his stomach, afraid that it appeared to be bad news.

"She's stable and she should be fine," the doctor said, smiling slightly and pulling his gloves off. "She needs a lot of rest and a lot of recovery time, but at this point I'd say she'll be okay, barring any sudden unforseen complications."

Mike exhaled shakily with relief and hugged Henry Morris, who was looking like a little boy who'd just been told that he was getting a puppy for Christmas.

"Can we see her?" Mike asked eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Just for a minute, and then she needs her rest," the doctor said sternly. "One at a time. Who wants to go first?"

"You go, Mike," Henry Morris said instantly. Mike looked uncertain. "Go on, I'm almost 80 years old, I can wait another minute," he said reassuringly, making a shooing gesture until Mike grinned and scrambled happily after the doctor.

"I'm so glad that she's okay," Henry Morris breathed in utter relief when it was just Harvey and him left.

Harvey, who hadn't gotten to say goodbye to his father before his untimely death, was just glad that Mike was getting a second chance with his grandmother. And from the looks of it, Edith would still be around for years yet.

It seemed like the universe, which had cruelly ripped Mike's parents away from him with no warning, was trying to do right by him this time around. Maybe there was such a thing as karma after all.

Because if anyone deserved good karma, Harvey thought later that night as he watched Mike kiss his peacefully sleeping grandmother's forehead goodnight, it was his son.

They had a conversation a few days after that over breakfast about everything that had happened and everything that was going on in Mike's life.

"You really don't think I should work so much?" Mike asked incredulously when Harvey said that he was officially banning Mike from the office on weekends. "But Dad, you're Harvey Specter. You always work! This is hypocritical!"

"Yes, I do work a lot," Harvey said. "But I also have a healthy amount of free time to eat and sleep and do leisure activities and clean my room," he said pointedly and Mike rolled his eyes and mumbled something about his 22nd birthday.

"Alright, fine, I'll lay off the overtime a little. I'm just trying to be a good lawyer," he huffed defensively.

"You already are a good lawyer. The best associate that's come through Pearson Hardman, certainly," Harvey said honestly. "And I'm very proud of you." Mike eyes widened, and Harvey thought to himself that if he had known that Mike obviously needed to hear that, he would have said it a lot sooner.

"You—do you really mean that?"

"No, I just tell that to all my sons who are genius associates," Harvey said, rolling his eyes.

Mike seemed buoyed by this, but then he deflated suddenly. "Do you really think Grammy's going to be okay?" He asked nervously, fidgeting with his breakfast dishes.

"You heard the doctors. As long as she takes it easy and goes to the cardiologist regularly, she should be alright. Plus you're going to go visit her in a few weeks; you'll see that she's right as rain by then," Harvey said, referencing the tickets he'd bought Mike the week prior to go spend more quality time with his grandmother for a long weekend.

"But one day she won't be okay," Mike said quietly, staring at the remains of his waffles.

Harvey nodded, knowing that it was pointless to deny the facts of life. "And when that phone call comes, I'll be here with you."

And even though that didn't make it completely better, it certainly helped to know that he wouldn't be alone.

Okay, that turned out kind of angsty at the end and I don't know why. I promise the next chapter with 20 year old Mike will be a lot more cheerful. Maybe if we all do a rain dance my computer will get fixed. Cross your fingers for me ;D And thanks for all your patience, I'll try to post something quicker next time :D Hopefully you all enjoyed it, I feel a bit rusty right now lol