Hi all! I'm moving next week, so wanted to get this out ahead of time. It's the longest chapter so far, I hope you enjoy and thanks for taking the time to read!


After Mike's panic attack on the couch, he had been completely drained, sinking back into the cushions as gracefully as his beaten body would allow. The physical beating alone would have been enough to deplete anyone's energy levels, let alone the emotional war the kid seemed to be waging.

Harvey knew that Mike had been struggling ever since he'd gotten out of prison. It wasn't anything that they had specifically talked about, but as he'd reminded Mike many times, he was good at reading people. He had hoped that the more distance and time Mike would have from the experience, the less it'd seem haunt him. Harvey had no doubt that this whole experience was going to be a huge setback.

Hell, he wouldn't admit it, but he had been scared shitless the entire time Mike had been incarcerated, too. The guilt of Mike taking that bullet for him had been consuming. Then he learned that Gallo was locked in there with Mike and suddenly every unplanned phone call from the prison caused a part of him to worry that it would be the news that Mike had been killed, and for what? Because the kid was foolishly loyal and Harvey hadn't been good enough to get a win the one time it really mattered.

Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the thoughts and focus on what to do next.

He had half a mind to move Mike to the guest bedroom. The main downside to that idea was that he knew it would most likely end up identical to how he'd gotten the kid into the apartment in the first place; a straining part-lead mostly-carry combination. Mike had been semi conscious throughout the ordeal, not that he'd be able to remember it, but his weak efforts to help only made the process more difficult. It'd been all Harvey could do to keep the both of them upright.

Harvey shook his head and stretched as he contemplated the decision.

A bed would be more comfortable and might allow Mike a better rest, but Harvey wasn't sure it was worth reliving all of that. Plus he was worried about unnecessarily jostling Mike's injuries. Added plus, Mike was already conked out and moving him would require waking him up again.

Which meant couch it was. Decision made.

Harvey double checked that Mike was okay. It'd only taken a gentle nudge for him to go from leaning against the back of the couch to stretching out horizontally. Once Mike had curled on his side, he'd fought valiantly to stay awake like Harvey had asked him to do earlier. But it was a losing fight from the start. Eventually, the blinks had gotten slower, the pauses with the lids closed closer together, until he was out. His breathing, which had been rushed and inconsistent during his panic attack, leveling out and slowing. Harvey had let it be, there wasn't much more that could be done tonight anyway.

Breathing? Check. Bleeding? No. Bruises? Hell yes, but the swelling was minimal.

Content that Mike was in the clear for the time being, Harvey ran a hand over his face. He grimaced when he felt stubble on his chin. He checked his watch, 4 in the morning.

"Well," he sighed, glancing around for his phone while absently patting his pockets for it. It'd been years since he'd had to pull an all-nighter before a full day of work, a streak he took some pride in and wanted to continue. Plus, as far as he was concerned, he did have work tomorrow, it just didn't involve being in the office.

He spotted his cell on the kitchen counter, vaguely recalling setting it there when he'd brought Mike in so that it wouldn't fall out of his pocket. Harvey walked over and unlocked the device, pausing to think how exactly he should phrase his text to Donna.

He didn't want to over-concern her, but he also needed to explain why he and Mike wouldn't be going in to work in a few hours. If he did it right, he might be able to get her to buffer with Rachel and buy him some time until he had a chance to talk with Mike about what he wanted to do and how much he wanted others to know.

He did the best he could to explain over text before heading to his guest room. Harvey snatched a pillow from the bed and peeled off one of the sheets. He then headed back into his living room and got to work. He gently slid the pillow under Mike's head, pulled off his shoes, placed them on the floor, and tossed the sheet over him.

Mike barely stirred.

"Those must've been some damn good painkillers," Harvey muttered to himself with a small smile.

Harvey cleaned up the first aid supplies. He left the kit out, just in case, but tossed the bloody gauze and other tidbits that were no longer needed.

Before heading to bed himself, he refilled Mike's water cup and placed two more painkillers next to it. He left a lamp on low and headed to his room, keeping his door open. He didn't know if he'd be able to relax enough to fall asleep, but he knew he needed to at least try and get some rest if they were going to figure out how to handle this in the morning.

...

Mike didn't know how long he'd been out. At some point he woke up feeling awful. Head pounding, his abdomen tight, every move he made to find a more comfortable position seemed to make it worse. He hissed, trying to keep quiet so as not to wake Harvey and cause more trouble. He spied the pills next to his glass and could not express the flood of gratitude he felt towards his friend in that moment. He took the pills and chased them down with a few gulps of water.

As the pills began to take effect, he fell back asleep.

When he woke again, sunlight was streaming through the many, many windows in Harvey's apartment. 'I need to tell him to invest in some shades,' Mike thought, rolling onto his back and pinching the sleep out of his eyes.

Mike stood up from the couch, elated he was once again able to do so without falling over. So pleased with himself, that he didn't notice how the sheet had twisted around his feet. He took a step and went down with a surprised yelp. Luckily missing the edge of the coffee table during his descent. 'Thank God Harvey isn't awake to-'

"For someone with a memory like yours, you sure are an idiot," Harvey chuckled as he walked out of his bedroom.

Mike rolled his eyes, looking incredulously at the sheet that he knew hadn't been there when he'd fallen asleep, "Did you tuck me in?"

Harvey shrugged as he walked over, reaching out a hand to help Mike to his feet.

"Think you need more beauty sleep, you still look like crap," he teased, while he took in the bruises. He was pleased to see that some of the swelling was already starting to go down. Which meant that whatever Gallo's intentions, what had happened would cause pain, not lasting damage. Regardless, that bastard was still going to pay for this.

"Thanks," Mike deadpanned, stepping out of the sheet and glancing towards the kitchen.

Harvey followed his gaze, "Hungry?"

"Starving."

"Come on, I'll make something. As long as you promise to keep it down. I don't want to have to throw out anything again. You owe me a bowel by the way."

Mike huffed and shuffled after him to the kitchen. His body felt like one big bruise. His head felt fuzzy and he wasn't sure if that was a result of a concussion or the pills he'd taken the night before. He gingerly sat down on one of the barstools and watched Harvey pull out some ingredients from the fridge and get to work making breakfast. Mike found it amusing that Harvey was such a good cook. He didn't know why, but somehow 'being the greatest closer in New York' and 'being good in the kitchen', seemed at odds with one another.

Mike glanced at the clock, "How come you're not at work?"

"Huh?" Harvey turned away from the stove to glance at him.

"It's past 10," Mike informed, nodding towards the clock, "You're not in the office."

Harvey rolled his eyes with a smirk and turned back to the scrambled eggs he had on the stove, "What are you going to do, reprimand me?"

"When's the last day you took a day off?"

"Relax," Harvey deftly split the scrambled eggs between two plates, pulled out a couple of forks, and slid one to Mike before setting his plate in front of him, "I meant what I said, you better not chuck this all back up. I slaved away making those."

Mike chuckled as he took a bite. Harvey leaned back against the counter to work on his own plate.

Mike tried to eat slowly, to ensure it wouldn't make a reappearance. He set down his fork, "Harvey, uhm, thanks…for everything," Mike said, glancing over at him.

Harvey finished off his food and dumped the plate in the sink, "'s just eggs Mike," he deflected with a shrug.

"Harvey, you know I don't-"

Harvey raised a hand, "You don't need to thank me, Mike. Seriously." When Mike didn't look convinced, Harvey added, "I'm the person you go to when you have a problem, remember? Plus, you went to prison for me. This is nothing."

Mike nodded and decided it'd be pointless to continue to argue the point. Instead, he changed the subject, "So…what are we going to do?"

Harvey relaxed against the counter, relieved about the new subject, but he sighed and shook his head. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, "I'm not sure," he admitted, "But we're sure as shit going to do something." He pushed himself off the counter, "In the meantime," Harvey grabbed a water glass and passed a bottle of Tylenol to Mike, "Take your meds."

"You know it's illegal to impersonate a medical professional," Mike teased, taking the pills regardless.

Harvey chuckled, "You don't say?" He grabbed Mike's empty plate and placed it on top of his in the sink.

"Seriously, what are we going to do?" Mike asked again, "I don't want to have to look over my shoulder everywhere I go. And if Gallo had guards in his pocket in prison-"

"He might have officers working for him outside," Harvey finished, nodding slowly, "That's why you didn't want to go to the hospital?"

Mike shrugged. Harvey could practically see the gears churning in his head as he tried to sort through the problem.

"If we're going to do anything, we're going to need dirt on Gallo and whoever it was that he hired," Harvey thought out loud.

"How do we get that if we don't even know who they were?"

Harvey furrowed his brow, "I might know someone we can call to help," he seemed to be talking more to himself than to Mike, "In the meantime," Harvey reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, handing it to Mike, "You need to figure out what you're going to tell Rachel, because she's been blowing up my phone all morning."


Thank you so much for taking the time to read. Please, if you have a moment to spare, leave a review and let me know your thoughts. Any and all feedback is incredibly helpful and deeply appreciated!

Thanks again! :)