Chapter 4

Harvey had never noticed how dull the office was before. Before what? Before having an associate he didn't even want to begin with? Before Mike started following him around like a lost puppy? Before serious situations were open ground for jokes and quotes, even when they weren't? Before he made senior partner and everything changed?

"Donna?" Harvey called.

"Yeah?" the voice replied over the intercom.

"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.

Donna must have a sixth sense, because she noticed Jessica coming almost as soon as Harvey did, and they both pretended to be working diligently when she got to them. The black woman's knock was gentle, but her stance was anything but.

"Harvey," she greeted. He gave her a nod of his head to acknowledge her. "It's been two weeks, Harvey."

"I highly doubt you came all the way to my office to check that I could read a calendar," he said bluntly, motioning to the tiny calendar on his desk that he hardly used anyway.

Jessica did not look impressed with his wit.

"When are you gonna let the kid go?" she asked. Harvey kept the cold feeling in his chest from reaching his face. "I'm serious. He doesn't remember the firm. He doesn't remember your little charade, Harvey. How is he supposed to keep a secret like that when he can't even remember it's supposed to be a secret? What's to stop him from telling Daniel or Louis or any of the associates? Once you explain the situation to him, he won't know who is in on the deal and who should never find out. His loyalty isn't guaranteed anymore. He's a liability."

"He's a brilliant lawyer, and his loyalty was never guaranteed. Even before this mess, I never tried to win his loyalty. The only thing I did was give him a job. He developed that attachment all on his own, so let's not count that among our losses," Harvey said, shaking his head. He wouldn't - couldn't - let her get rid of Mike for this. This wasn't Mike's fault, and he wouldn't be hung for it.

"Are you saying you'll close him like a client? Win back his loyalty?" Jessica asked, and her coldness was not a figment of Harvey's imagination.

"I'm not going to close anyone. I'm going to tell him the truth, and then he's going to remember he was loyal to me already." Harvey stood up and walked toward his record collection, only stopping at the coffee table when he saw Jessica wasn't going to drop this. She stood at the other edge of the table, staring him down.

"Harvey," she said, voice softer. She glanced toward the door, but Donna wasn't looking, and then returned her fierce gaze to Harvey. "I need you to think clearly. Mike doesn't remember this office. He doesn't remember how the system works anymore, doesn't remember all the law he's learned or the progress he's made. He doesn't remember the client list or any of his coworkers. And he has already proven that he most certainly does not remember you. You need to cut him loose... for both your sakes."

Jessica's eyes were gentle above her straight mouth and hard words. Harvey could tell she was trying to think of him and how hard this might be for him, but he could also tell she was thinking more about herself and her position in the firm than about Mike or Harvey or any combination of the two. He stepped up closer to her, an inch or so away from invading her personal space, and looked her dead in the eye - as he had done so many times before for much less important causes. When he spoke, he spoke hard and slow.

"He's going to remember everything, and then he's going to tell me which son-of-a-bitch caused this so I can take their asses down. And then everything is going to go right back to how it was before. I'm not firing him," he said. "I told you – there's no me without him, Jessica."

"You better god damn hope this works out, Harvey. If it comes down to it,-" Jessica murmured darkly.

"It won't. I'll take care of it," Harvey said, full of finality. Jessica nodded, her entire expression harsh. She knew she wouldn't beat Harvey on this. He'd made sure she understood that.

"Keep trying. But you are not to read him in on his position at the firm. Let him believe he got a real law degree. Tell him you got Harvard to let him take the test without taking the courses. Tell him he saved a supreme court judge's cat from being hit by a bus and got the degree as a courtesy. I don't care what you tell him, so long as it isn't the truth. Understand?" she asked, her tone just as final as his.

"Understood," and Harvey did understand.

He understood Jessica's worry and reasoning perfectly, but he didn't agree with her, not on this. He wouldn't lie to Mike. Mike's head was messed up enough. Harvey wasn't about to make it harder for him to remember the truth. Any lie would just add to possible confusion and probably piss the kid off when he realized what had happened. Lying would undermine the shaky trust they were rebuilding. Besides, Harvey wanted Mike back just the way he'd been, no alterations.

Harvey hadn't built his relationship with Mike on lying. Teasing lines, half truths – those came with the job. Mike threw those back in equal number these days. Harvey had never lied to Mike about anything important, however; avoided the issue, kept things from him, yes, but he'd not outright lied. He wasn't about to break that habit now that Mike was hurt.

Jessica wanted to hear agreement, though, so that's what he gave her. That was the beauty of the English language: connotations, implied meanings versus concrete definitions. Harvey knew how to "play the person", how to twist words to get what he wanted. Jessica should know better, but now certainly wasn't the time to point that out.

Jessica raised a warning eyebrow before she turned on her heels and walked out of the office without another word. Her exit left Harvey simultaneously feeling relieved and heavy.

He walked to the wall and snatched up The Spinners before going to put them on the player. Part of him chose the band because they were a defining group of their time. Part of him chose them because Mike had singled them out to make fun of them, and Harvey wanted to channel the little bastard's brain.

Mike would know exactly how to knock the memories back into someone. Kid remembered everything from the day he was five. He shouldn't even be able to get amnesia.

"That was harsh," Donna said, coming in and shutting the door behind her. Harvey stared down at the record player as though he hadn't heard her. "How's Mike holding up?" she asked.

"He's asleep half the time, so I'm told," Harvey admitted. "They've got him pretty amped up on painkillers though, so I suppose that's to be expected. He's bored when he's awake, but now he's got the tablet so hopefully that'll help. And he's got a special shrink that he sees once a day for therapy. He's busy... but I think it's better that way."

"Why?" Donna stepped closer to him, but she didn't dare touch him. His shoulders were tense. They didn't even relax when he took a deep breath and then let it out slowly.

"Because I told him I'd try to find Trevor before I came back to visit," Harvey explained. "He won't listen to me about any of it. He doesn't believe Trevor would betray him – at least he doesn't want to believe it. But what he wants is all that matters at this point. Damn it. You know, I wouldn't be surprised if Trevor was part of the reason he's even in this condition."

Donna bit her lip and frowned. "I'm sorry. Even without the amnesia, I don't think he'd understand how tough this has been and is going to be for you." When Harvey looked at her with cold eyes, she didn't even flinch. "What? It's not like you ever let the poor kid know what you're feeling - not really. I may be the only one who can tell how worried you are, and that's only from knowing you for so long."

"And knowing me for so long is the only way anyone in the world is going to be able to tell. I like it that way," Harvey replied, voice blank and controlled.

"Mmmm, nope. That's not how you'd like it with Mike," she said, a teasing note to her words and the way she tilted her head to the side like a curious bird. Harvey didn't even try to rise to her challenge, just let it drift away into the air. When Donna realized he wouldn't be responding, she stood up professionally and tapped her hands together. "So where's he gonna live when they let him out of the hospital? Lord knows he can't go back to the dingy place you found him living in, not if we hope to keep him."

Harvey actually smiled then and pointed at his assistant as though she'd had a brilliant idea. "That's exactly what I was thinking, which is why I'm going to let him stay at my place."

"Wow. Way to take him out of his comfort zone," Donna exclaimed, expression suggesting she was honestly stunned. "Has he ever even been in your apartment?"

"Once," Harvey admitted, going to sit back at his desk. Twice, but only once did he get inside. "But don't worry. We'll make a pit stop at his place on the way to mine. He'll get plenty of memory time there, and then he can bring his own toiletries and junk to put in my spare bedroom."

"I'm just trying to picture where this is going in the future and how your penthouse is going to remind him of what made him lose his memories in the first place," Donna said, eyes cast slightly skyward as she thought. "Oh wait. It won't." Then she settled a 'you're being stupid' look on her boss.

Harvey just smiled and tapped his lips with a pen. "Donna, get out before you ruin my moment," he said. She did, and he got back to work.

Defeat was not something Harvey Specter was accustomed to, but it seemed Trevor Evans was to remedy that. When Harvey made it back to the hospital over a week after his initial promise, he still hadn't been able to track down Trevor. Even after sending someone over to basically stakeout the guy's apartment for a day, he'd come up with nothing. Trevor hadn't used a credit card or been arrested in the last month – and both of those were shockers for Harvey. His rent was paid, but none of his neighbors had ever met him, much less could give any clues on his current whereabouts. His vanishing act did nothing for his case. Harvey just added it to the list of evidence pinning Mike's accident on the low life.

Harvey had hoped Mike wouldn't remember the Trevor issue, but he should have known better. The moment he entered the room, Mike's eyes lit up and he asked how the search had gone. When he got the news, he visibly deflated, but he looked no less determined.

"I'll find him," Mike promised. "Maybe not right away, but I know how he... or at least, I knew how he operated before."

And even though Mike was still going to try and get in contact with Trevor, Harvey felt he'd won a small victory, because Mike had admitted he might not know Trevor as well as he used to. Then it was time to broach the subject of Mike's living arrangement. The doctor, a woman this time, started it. She came in as soon as she could after the nurse had informed her of Harvey's arrival.

"He's free to leave anytime," she explained, and Harvey could see the disapproval on Mike's face as she spoke to Harvey and not him. "He may still be a bit sore, but so long as he avoids any strenuous activity he should be fine. I've prescribed him some more powerful pain killers than you'll find over the counter."

"Thank you," Harvey replied, for a lack of anything better to say.

The doctor glanced between both men as she continued. "Now the swelling has gone down, and your scans looks great, but you'll still need to be careful. The condition can cause bouts of confusion, short-term memory loss, and mood swings."

"Wait," Mike spoke up. "Are you saying I could forget more?"

"It's possible, yes. Not as much as this time, but... for example, patients in the past have reported forgetting if they've eaten or how they got on the subway or where they were going."

It was a sobering thought, and Harvey didn't like it at all. Mike had already forgotten so much. He wanted Mike to remember more, not forget. He wanted Mike to be able to write books before he went to bed about what he ate for breakfast that morning – just to prove his memory was better than ever. Imagining Mike suddenly forgetting what he was doing in the middle of the day... Harvey banished the thought before it could finish forming.

"Now, the best idea would be for you to go to a familiar environment when you leave. Since you may continue to show symptoms, I recommend you don't live alone. Do you have a roommate or someone to stay with that's familiar?" the doctor asked.

Mike opened his mouth, probably to claim Trevor, but then he settled into a frown instead. Harvey cleared his throat and decided to take the reins on this. "He can stay with me. I'm familiar." The doctor looked at him suspiciously. "Okay, so he doesn't know me now, but I promise you we used to spend most of the day together... every day. I'm not kidding."

The doctor stared at him, unconvinced, for quite a long time, longer than Harvey thought was entirely necessary, before she finally conceded. She told Mike she'd be back later to do a last check-up on him before he could get discharged and then stepped out of the room.

"Trevor and I haven't lived together for five years," Mike muttered into the silence. Harvey pressed his lips together and turned to face him. Mike shrugged. "I mean, I think it was only a year ago, but I've lost four years. It's just... that's half a decade. That's a long time."

"You've known me for two years," Harvey offered and shrugged as well. "That's a long time too. Don't sweat the small stuff, kid. Time is a manmade invention that only controls us when we're on the clock or on a date. Neither of which applies right now."

"What?" Mike asked, a sort of shock glazing over his features. "We aren't dating? This isn't a date? But I called for wine to be brought up soon. You really shouldn't lead me on like that."

The younger man was only halfway through his second sentence when Harvey caught that he was joking. He smiled in a tight but amused fashion. At least Mike could still tease him back with the same vigor.

"Alright, Cupid. Calm down," Harvey said.

"Really shouldn't take advantage of my memory loss like that," Mike continued, turning away in mock pain.

"Look," Harvey said, and Mike turned obediently. "Just be a good boy for the rest of the time you're in here, then we can swing by your place for some clothes and whatever... and then I promise to show you some real wine once we get to my place."

"You like making deals, don't you," Mike said, and Harvey couldn't help how smug he felt knowing Mike had figured that out so quickly.

"I'm a closer. Deals are sort of what I do. But let's just call them compromises in your case, alright?" Harvey didn't want to make 'deals' with Mike. The word reminded him too much of his conversation with Jessica. Jessica hadn't used the word 'deal' either, but the whole encounter gave off that kind of aroma. Dealing was for lawsuits, not for Mike – although the two might coincide if Mike didn't remember who he was. They might coincide even if he did. Their whole charade was a time bomb.

"Why am I coming home with you again?" Mike asked, weary and pulling his t-shirt over his head. Earlier, Harvey had let himself into Mike's apartment with Mike's key to grab him some clothes, just as he'd done to get Mike the sweatpants he'd been wearing during his stay. He hadn't told Mike yet, but since the kid was a genius, he had to have some idea how his clothes kept winding up here at the hospital.

"I'm your boss," Harvey said in way of explanation. He knew how simple and unconvincing it sounded. From a professional stand point, taking an underling home with you was probably a no-fly zone, but so long as Jessica didn't ask, Jessica didn't need to find out.

"I've never heard of bosses taking their workers home," Mike said echoing Harvey's thoughts. He moved behind the hanging curtain to change his pants.

"Well I'm not most bosses," Harvey replied.

Mike shrugged as he came back into sight, making like he accepted that answer. He turned from Harvey so that all the lawyer could see was the younger man's tense back. Mike cleaned up his last tray of food, moving things around unnecessarily, and then touched the blanket like he may begin the same processes with his bed.

"Mike," Harvey grunted, grabbing his associate by the shoulder and forcing him to turn. "You're my personal associate. All Senior Partners get an associate, and of all the knuckleheaded, carbon copy, brownnosing applicants, I chose you. You're... my partner in crime." Harvey smiled a little. Mike looked up at him, and Harvey thought he saw some recognition in those eyes. "The Robin to my Batman. I'm taking you home to keep an eye on you. Can't have you running off and vanishing on me. The Joker might get you." Oh, and if only Harvey knew who the joker was, he'd wipe him from the equation.

Mike snorted. "So now you're Batman," he said. Harvey smiled wider, which for Harvey was just a normal smile. There was a relaxed joke in Mike's statement that reminded Harvey of when he first met the kid - back when he was comparing Harvey to Peter Clemenza after they'd won their first case.

"Of course," he said, releasing Mike and shrugging his shoulders easily. "Clooney," he tried, waiting to see if Mike took the bait.

"Kilmer," Mike corrected, eyes drawn up as though Harvey's suggestion was so wrong it hurt. He frowned then, and Harvey smirked because he knew what would come next. Mike had fallen right into step.

"Keaton," the pair said together. Mike looked slightly stunned, but Harvey looked pleased. He had timed it well. Most things were perfect only once, the first time they happened, but this was perfect twice. Harvey was a bit shocked he'd been able to time his own response properly, since he knew it was coming, but he counted it toward his pride that he knew Mike well enough to know how long he'd pause. Mike didn't seem to know what to think as he stared at his boss. Hopefully his mind was recognizing the piece Harvey had just hand-fed it.

Mike's expression fell into a simple, but beautiful, smile and he looked straight into Harvey's eyes. It was like forging a bond all over again. The pieces were still there. Mike just had to see where they fit, and they would definitely fit. Harvey needed them to fit. How was he supposed to practice law without Mike there to remind him why he'd become a lawyer to begin with?

Mike was still smiling when he next spoke even though his words were far from a joke. "I think you're a loon. And I'm not gonna lie to you. If it ever seems like you're full of shit, I'm so gone. Understand me?"

"Almost like you were speaking my language," Harvey said with a half shrug of his shoulders.

The familiar banter in the hospital room lightened Mike's nerves. He agreed to leave with Harvey, although the hospital staff had told him he had no other options of people to stay with anyway. Harvey loaded Mike into the town car, because he expected having Ray drive up in a limo might be a bit too shocking.

"Afternoon," Harvey greeted as his trusty driver opened the smaller but still fancy car's door.

"Afternoon, Harvey. It's good to have you back, Mike," Ray said, smiling at the associate.

Harvey paused just as he was about to step into the car and looked to see the interaction. Mike raised a hand in a wave but didn't recognize Ray, at least not that his face showed. He glanced at Harvey and then back to Ray.

"Glad to be back...?" he said with a hint of hesitation. Ray laughed gently.

"Ray," the Indian man offered. Mike smiled, a small and grateful thing.

"Ray," he repeated, putting conviction and determination into the name. Harvey had no doubt that Mike was trying to commit the name to memory, to make sure he didn't forget it again.

The three men piled into the car and sped off into the city streets. There was no talking, but that was rather normal for them unless they were discussing cases, so Harvey didn't press for words. They were about a block from Mike's shabby residence when Mike turned away from the window. He closed his eyes and touched his head, but he didn't hiss like he had that first day in the hospital.

"Are we going to my apartment?" he asked and shook his head. The pain that had struck him left his features as quickly as it had appeared.

"Yeah," Harvey said, motioning out the window. "You need to pick out some clothes and stuff to tide you over at my place, at least for a little while. Plus, I want you to have a good look around, see if you can't remember what happened to you two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago, I was meeting with a sap who couldn't tie his own shoelaces much less pass a test. Didn't deserve to go to law school, but hey, I needed the money," Mike murmured, his eyes narrowed at the floor.

Harvey frowned. Mike, for all his grace and strength in this trying situation, seemed determined to make this hard on Harvey. Why did he insist on pretending the amnesia wasn't happening when Harvey brought it up? The nurses said he had been doing well in therapy - really trying. What made Harvey different? The doctor said to expect mood swings but still...

Ray pulled up in front of the defaced building, and Mike was out of the car before Harvey could think to start telling him what to do. The speed must have been a getaway tactic, but Mike forgot Harvey had the key in his pocket. When Harvey reached the apartment, Mike was leaning with his head on it, groaning.

"Don't trust me?" Harvey asked. Mike looked over him with an apology hidden around his irises. "Here." Harvey tossed Mike the keys, which made Mike's face break with instant relief. Mike opened the door like a man who'd done it a thousand times before - which he probably had.

"Come in. But I guess you've done that before," Mike muttered as he stepped inside.

"Well, I've been in here four times at least," Harvey agreed. Mike paused in grabbing some dirty clothes from the floor and frowned over at his boss.

"I thought you said we were close," he said.

Harvey shrugged. "You've been to my place twice, once where you actually made it inside. I've been here twice to grab you clothes during the hospital stay, once before that to kidnap you to Atlantic City, and once -" Harvey paused. He'd come to fetch Mike from the hole he'd fallen into after his grandmother had died. "-to figure out why you weren't coming to work. We got high. It was a good night, but don't expect any repeats. We have a strict 'no drugs' deal."

"Wow. When you say 'close', you really stretch the meaning," Mike said, throwing things in a corner. He looked at several items curiously before adding them to the dirty clothes pile and moved quickly across the room. "Did we win any money in Atlantic City? Was I your wingman?"

"Something like that," Harvey said. 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.

After Mike knocked over a can of body spray and cursed, Harvey asked, "Are you okay?"

"No. No, I'm not okay," Mike said, audibly sighing with frustration before setting the can back where it had been. "My clothes aren't where I left them. I don't recognize half the things on the floor." The brunette stepped out of sight, let out a yelp and came back. "I don't know what happened to half the clothes in my closet. Since when do I wear suits? And there's all this junk I don't know sitting in my way."

Mike was shuffling around some deodorant, body spray, hair gel, a can of potato chips, and one of his briefcases. He stopped among the mess, running a hand over his face and taking a deep, distressed breath. Harvey couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

Harvey walked over and put a hand on Mike's forearm. "Let's see if I can help," he said.

Together, they packed a bag for Mike with the new matching body spray, wash, and deodorant Mike was using - hey, keeping a consistent smell was important, Mike informed him - a few pairs of jeans and shirts, some underwear and socks, and they hung two suits up to come along. At first, Mike protested, but Harvey told him they were for work, and after a very brief explanation and a lot of coaxing, Mike allowed them to come along. Mike tried to bring his bong too, but Harvey told him there were no drugs at his place and there better not be any in this apartment either. Before Mike could really question that, Harvey told him which of the items sitting on the table Mike used on a regular basis - like his IPod, bike helmet, laser pen, and pack of gum.

"I chew gum?" Mike asked as they added the stuff to Mike's bag.

"It keeps you from eating all the food in the kitchen. Your snacking habits from being a pot head still haven't worn off, and without the occasional gum, you'd be so fat Rachel wouldn't want to kiss you anymore," Harvey explained. He tapped his fingers along book spines, hesitating over Curious George.

"Rachel?" Mike asked, a smile in his voice. Harvey spun around.

"Now don't get too excited," he said and tossed the children's book at Mike, who caught it gingerly and glared at Harvey for ever tossing it. "You aren't together. Little office romance, but it just ends with her angry and you depressed. I'd call off the chase, if I were you, Fido."

"Did you just call me a dog?" Mike asked, slipping Curious George into his bag.

"Did I?" Harvey teased, standing by Mike's small table and smiling. He loved how Mike looked right now, cheap shirt and all. Mike's expression was affronted but accepting at the same time - just like the Mike who first stepped into Pearson Hardman. It was endearing to see.

"Well just for that, I think I'll ask her out," Mike said, turning away from Harvey and walking toward his room.

"Hey-," Harvey complained, but stopped before he continued the banter. Mike had paused in the doorway of his room and was leaning on the peeling white frame. His breathing was labored and heavy enough for Harvey to hear across the room. Mike wasn't touching his head, but his body had regained its rigidity. "Hey, are you okay? Does your head hurt?" The lawyer asked and walked quickly over to him.

"No," Mike whined. He pushed off the door frame and slightly into Harvey, but then remembered social boundaries and tried his best to stand on two feet.

"Well something's definitely wrong. Tell me." Harvey said, slowly placing a hand on Mike's shoulder, just below where it met with his neck. It was almost too intimate for Harvey on a normal day, but he wanted to give Mike the support.

"I just-," Mike paused, tilting his head toward Harvey's hand and then sighing. "I don't want to be... here. Do we have enough stuff? I want to get out of here."

"Yeah, we can go. But what's wrong with your apartment? I mean, besides the fact that it should be condemned." Harvey slid his hand down to Mike's bicep and pat it once before dropping his hand altogether and motioning toward the door.

"I just don't want to be here, okay?" Mike grunted, putting more space between himself and Harvey as he headed for the door.

"Okay. We're gone," Harvey said. He was going to grab the bag, but Mike got to it first and hefted it down the hall and stairs all on his own, leaving only the suits for Harvey to get.

Harvey had planned to let Mike have upwards of an hour in his apartment, but they'd only been there for about thirty minutes. It wasn't to plan time-wise, but Harvey had a sinking feeling it was fulfilling its purpose event-wise. Mike being uncomfortable around Harvey was one thing, but since when was someone not comfortable in their own home? Mike looked too sick for this to be a general dislike. A sour taste made its home in the back of Harvey's throat as the idea solidified in his brain: Mike's accident had started at home.

Preview chapter 5:

"Wait, so I'm a conman?" Mike asked, cracking the eggs.

"It sounds so harsh when you say it like that."

They were memories, he knew they were. He got snippets of them every time he tried to think about Harvey too much... but they never told him anything. It was all just noise, noise, noise, noise, noise – clouding up his mind and making the puzzle of his missing time stretch exponentially.

He shouldn't even care, but he did. He did, and that annoyed him. He felt the anger bubble up from somewhere in his gut as he stood. The flashes of memories, the terrorizing nightmares, the feeling of losing control – he couldn't... he didn't want to deal with any of it! It wasn't fair!

The coffee table made a satisfying crashing noise as he dropped it onto its side.