Chapter 3

There was nothing on TV. Well, that was a lie. There weren't many channels, but Mike had plenty of options since he didn't know any of the shows. But then there was the issue – Mike didn't know any of the shows, and the ones he did know had changed. There was a new cop show about two partners going to couples therapy, and that had been funny, and after that was a marathon of NCIS, but a lot changed in four years, apparently, because they were mentioning things Mike had no memory of.

He watched TV in a drowsy haze for about four hours after breakfast before he finally asked for a book to read. A nurse brought him SAT prep versions of The Scarlet Letter and Moby Dick – both of which he'd read and could read in his head if he needed to. He ordered lunch and then, after he ate, he took a nap.

Three days, Mike noted when he woke up. It had been three since the recliner chair beside him had been occupied for the night. Waking up and seeing the chair empty always made him feel cold inside until his mind cleared and he reminded himself that Harvey had a job. Mike wished Harvey could just put all of his weird clients on hold until this all cleared up... if it ever cleared up. Mike –wanted– it to clear up, because maybe if his memory returned he wouldn't have the nightmares.

He never remembered details once he woke up, but Harvey's name was always on his lips when his eyes opened, his name ringing in his ears and echoing through his mind, and all he wanted to calm his racing pulse was to see the older man. Mike felt like a silly child, trying to cling to someone who would chase away the monsters in his sleep, to check under the bed and in the closet – except not like that movie 'The Boogeyman', where the dad checked the closet and ended up dead.

Mike maneuvered his bed to sit up so he could look out the window without putting stress on his still sore ribs. He couldn't see the ground well, but he could see trees and the occasional plane and the building across the wide street, and all of that was the second best cure for his jitters. It proved he was safe, somehow, that the world hadn't gone through an apocalypse while he slept.

Nurse Becky coming in to check on him interrupted his thoughts. She asked him his name and scanned his bracelet and did whatever else it was she was required to do. Of all his nurses, he liked her the best. She had a cute southern drawl at the edge of her voice, and she was old enough to be his mother. Her sweet personality made him feel comfortable around her. She never gave him pitied looks and always tried to keep the conversation about things that wouldn't draw attention to Mike's memory loss.

"Mr. Specter called about you earlier," she said when she'd finished her check. "Says he might come over this way this evening if he gets off work in time. You know, in place of his usual call."

Mike couldn't help his hopeful tone. "Harvey's coming to visit?" Having Harvey call him each night to check up on him was fine, but seeing Harvey would be infinitely better.

The first pitying look. She quickly smiled. "He's gonna make an effort for you."

"Thanks," Mike said, turning away from her in case she slipped again. "I needed to hear that."

Becky seemed to notice she'd upset him. She took a moment's pause before speaking again. "He tell you how you know him?"

"He's my boss," Mike answered mechanically. He didn't know the specifics, but he wished he did. What kind of boss comes to visit an employee in the hospital? Stays the first and second nights? Is an employee's emergency contact? Why did Mike trust him so much before the accident?

"That's right. He told me he picked you himself for the job," Becky continued. Mike turned to look back at her, confused. "He couldn't sleep well the first night, you know – Tuesday, so we chit chatted a little."

Mike smiled and tried not to comment on how much Harvey would probably argue the term 'chit chatted.'

"Seems to be you barged in, accidentally, on an interview process he was holdin' for his law firm. He was ready to kick you out, but you showed him how smart you were and proved you were better than 'those cardboard cutout Harvard whoevers', and he hired you on the spot. You're his personal...um... associate." She perked up a bit. "The Robin to his Batman."

"What?"

Becky shrugged, stepping to the door. "It's what he said." She smiled and winked at him. "You rest, and I'll see if I can find you some other books."

Mike stared after her, puzzling over her information. Harvey said they were like Batman and Robin? Harvey was Batman? He took a deep breath. He needed to remember who their Joker was and where to find him... or them. That's what Harvey wanted. That's what Mike wanted. Find out who hurt him.

Who hit him? Where did it happen?

"Where is it?"

Mike groaned and closed his eyes. Voices bombarded him, pounding against his temples.

"Where did you put it?"

"Tell me where you hid it!"

"Tell me!"

Mike bent forward on the bed and held onto the railings. His stomach churned, and he felt as though he'd been punched in the gut.

"Tell me what you did!"

"What did you do?"

Mike pressed his palms against the side of his head.

"What did you do now?"

"Trevor, what did you do!?"

Trevor. Mike's eyes slid open and he found himself panting and sweating. The pounding in his head eased off, leaving only a dull ache, but his chest was what hurt more now. He'd been breathing too heavy. Becky was back, asking him what happened, if he was okay, did he feel nauseas? Mike took the water she was offering and shook his head.

"I-I'm okay," Mike assured her. She seemed unsure, but she let the subject drop after he asked for some Tylenol and gave her a thankful smile. A Percy Jackson novel was at his bedside now, something Becky had no doubt procured from some stack of books for the hospital's children patients. Mike didn't mind. After a few more empty guarantees of his wellbeing and a show of gratitude for the novel, Becky let him be. She promised to check up on him soon as she left.

Mike needed time to think. Alone.

Were these memories? These voices and images he kept seeing? It happened about once a day, whenever he tried to think back too long, but it didn't usually hurt like this. Headaches, yes, but his stomach and ribs? His hand? He leaned back against his pillow.

The memories, if that's what they were, were just like the nightmares. He didn't know what they meant. He could hear words clearly, as though they'd been said for the first time just then, but he never remembered what they were talking about. He'd thought maybe he was just hearing reruns of pointless conversations, maybe of shows or movies he'd seen. But this time was different.

This time he heard his own voice talking to Trevor.

What did that mean? ...Was Trevor the Joker?

A knock on the open door woke him up from a dose. His eyes snapped to the tall, solid form of Harvey Specter standing just inside his room and slowly walking closer. He was hiding something behind his back but trying to act like he always walked with his arms bent that way.

"Harvey," Mike said. He stopped the relief he felt from showing on his face, but wasn't fast enough to halt the emotion from seeping into his voice.

"Hey. Sorry it's a bit late," Harvey said and stopped next to the bed. "I brought you something to make the rest of your time here pass easier."

From behind his back the lawyer pulled a new iPad. It was black and shiny, never been used, but when Harvey opened it, Mike saw tons of apps already downloaded, and there were a few finger marks on the screen.

"What's the occasion?" Mike asked, tapping one of the downloaded games. Fruit Ninja?

"What do you mean? It's yours," Harvey said and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

Mike didn't even raise his eyes from the game. "No it's not," he said.

"What do you mean, it's not?" Harvey said. "How do you know I didn't just swing by your place and grab it for you?"

"Because if it was mine, it wouldn't be brand new. And even if it was, it wouldn't look this nice. For another thing, I don't know that I'd ever download a game called Fruit Ninja... although it's sort of addicting already. For another thing, I saw a photo album on the cover that is filled with photos meant to jog my memory. You should have come up with a better title for the album than 'Memories.' Seriously." He paused the game and raised his eyes to Harvey, who looked both pleased and sour. "Also, you're a terrible actor."

"Only when it comes to you," Harvey stated with a shrug. "Apparently." His head tilted to the side and he regarded Mike with something that looked like pride. "Alright, you caught me. It wasn't yours, but it is now. Donna had a bit of fun with it. She did the setting up and whatever, so blame her for anything you find on there."

"Even the pictures?" Mike asked.

Harvey nodded. "Even the pictures. She went crazy with a camera, so everyone you've met in the last year or so is probably in that album."

Mike's eyebrows lifted with interest and he exited his game to go to the album. It was definitely a dense thing. It even had subcategories – friends, coworkers, clients, Donna, Harvey, Me. Mike's lips curled up and he chuckled.

"What is it?" Harvey asked, leaning over but unable to see the screen.

"Nothin. It's just that Donna put a whole album of herself on here," Mike said and clicked that folder. "She's beautiful. You think I'd remember her."

"I'll be sure to let her know you think so highly of her. But let's be clear, she's not into you." Harvey shook his head minimally and waved his hand to brush away the idea.

"Your girlfriend?" Mike asked, and his chest felt condensed in an emotion he couldn't place. Everything loosened back to normal when Harvey actually chuckled.

"Definitely not. We've already had to deal with that assumption earlier this year. No. She's my secretary, assistant, general manager of my life type deal," the older man explained. "She's about as close to a best friend as I'm ever going to get... and if you tell her I said that, I'll fire you."

Best friend. Mike backed out of Donna's folder and went to his own. Donna had collected photos from Mike's Facebook and must have talked to Grammy or something because she even had some younger photos of Mike. Mike remembered hundreds of outings with Trevor, some of which involved cameras, but none of them seemed to be in the folder. Out of at least a hundred photos, Mike noticed two with Trevor in them.

"Trevor," Mike said, breaking the new silence. He looked back at Harvey, who's face grew stony at the name. "Why isn't Trevor here? Or Jenny?"

"That may be a bit much for one visit," Harvey said, standing and smoothing out his suit. "Maybe next time."

Mike's fingers clutched at Harvey's sleeve and snagged around his wrist. He gave a serious stare up at Harvey. "Tell me. You want me to trust you, so tell me."

Why was Harvey, a guy Mike hadn't known four years ago, here but not Trevor, Mike's best friend since middle school? How had Trevor never even come up in conversation? He needed to know. Why was Trevor the villain in his flashes?

Harvey was a wall of steel, but as the staring contest went on he seemed to soften. Finally he sighed. "Alright, but no talking until I'm finished," he said. "Let's get one thing straight – Trevor is not your friend. Hasn't been for years. Hasn't been since before I met you. He's an anchor, and he's only made your life harder."

"But-!" Mike started. Harvey held his hand up to remind him to keep his mouth shut, and Mike had to literally bite the side of his mouth. He wanted to defend Trevor, but Harvey had some kind of control over him.

"He got you kicked out of school, wasting your life in a pot dream. You needed some money and offered to do one drug sale for him. Long story short, that led to you meeting me and landing your position as my associate. After you got your job, you helped him get out of jail and sent him on a long trip to turn his life around. Somewhere in there, Trevor and the blonde girl broke up. After Trevor left, you and the blonde girl-"

"Jenny," Mike supplied.

"You and Jenny started dating. Don't make that face. You've been broken up for about a year. When Trevor got back, he found out about it and tried to get your fired to get revenge. I'm sure you won't be stunned when I say you were angry. Next time I saw you, you said you threatened him, that if he ever tried to mess with you again, you'd ruin his life too. I'll admit, I was proud of you – you stood your ground, even against a friend. That's tough. You told me the two of you were done. And that's all I know. I don't know where he went or what he's doing."

There was a brief silence in which the two lawyers just stared at each other, and then Mike's voice came out in an emotionless monotone.

"I don't believe you."

"Tough cookie, cause it's the truth."

Mike's eyebrows came together and he full on glared at Harvey. His gut felt all wrong, and he almost remembered Trevor turning to look at him as he ranted off the other's social security number, but it slipped from his grasping mind. He didn't want to believe it.

"Trevor's my friend, he wouldn't do something like that." But behind his eyes, he kept seeing flashes of Trevor's face on a dark street, sneering down at him interspersed with memories of them playing games together, and he winced as they caused a sharp pain in his temple.

"Well he did, and as part of our relationship," Harvey motioned between them, "You're not supposed to call him. Not that you'd want to these days."

"Part of our relationship? You banned me from talking to Trevor?" Mike asked, heart pounding angrily.

"For your own good, and you knew it."

"Well I don't know it now. I want to talk to him."

"Not gonna happen, Mike."

Mike set the tablet as far down his legs as he could to get it out of the way. Harvey reached for it, and while he was distracted, Mike reached for the telephone, stretching over the rails on his bed. Harvey set the tablet down on a table and turned around just as Mike's fingers closed around the receiver.

"Mike, I'm not kidding. Stop it," Harvey ordered, moving over and snatching the phone away.

"Hey, give it back!" Mike shouted, ignoring the ache in his chest as he stretched to reach for Harvey. Harvey just moved further away, and Mike grunted his disapproval. Then Mike's hand slipped on the rail and his upper abdomen crashed down onto the hard plastic. The pain that shot through him made his eyes prick with tears and he cried out his pain through grit teeth.

Harvey was there in an instant, easing him back onto his pillows, although all Mike wanted to do was stay curled up until the pain went away. His bruised ribs throbbed, and so did the "minor laceration" on his abdomen that had barely even tickled until this point.

"Don't be an idiot, Mike," Harvey was saying when Mike remembered to listen. "I don't even think Trevor has the same phone. Just rest, alright? I'll see if I can find the little weasel by my next visit. If I can, I'll bring him. If not, it's your prerogative. Deal?"

Mike managed to pry his teeth apart long enough to cough out "Deal," and then he just groaned, laid back, and hit his morphine button while Harvey stood by and shook his head.

Preview chapter 4:

"Remind me to get a hobby," Harvey said, signing his name at the bottom of a document.

"Oh. Missing Mike?" the red head asked smugly.

"Nope. But you've been depressing me for two weeks since the incident, and I honestly can't take another day of it," Harvey replied. He looked up and saw Donna giving him a disbelieving look from her desk, which he returned wholeheartedly.

Jessica did not look impressed with his wit. "When are you gonna let the kid go?" she asked.

He watched Mike move around the apartment, somewhere the younger man should be infinitely familiar with and comfortable in. Mike moved quickly, but the line of his back, the steps he took, everything in his stance told Harvey one thing. Mike was in no way comfortable here.

"What?" Mike asked, a sort of shock glazing over his features. "We aren't dating? This isn't a date?"