Chapter 8

The distant sound of his alarm clock woke him the next morning. Harvey let out a short sigh, wishing he could sleep in, that he didn't have to go to work. He wished the god damn sun was up entirely before the alarm ripped him from sleep. He opened his eyes, wondering why the sound of his alarm was so far away, so soft.

One attempt to shift his position answered that. He was in Mike's bed, Mike tucked in close to him. Harvey remembered everything now – the way he'd come to check on Mike and found him begging and writhing, how he'd grabbed Mike's hand as he had earlier in hopes that it would help but it only made Mike grip his hand in a death vice instead of the blanket, and how he'd shouted Mike's name to bring him out of his nightmare.

He remembered seeing that scar for the first time, the one just below the v-neck collar of Mike's undershirt, the way Mike had grabbed for it just as he woke up. Harvey tried imagining the cause of it, the horrible way it had been inflicted – so bad it gave Mike nightmares. It made Harvey indescribably angry, made him want to take whatever weapon had been used and do the same to the one responsible. No... do worse.

Harvey looked down at Mike's sleeping face, so calm now. He remembered Mike grabbing onto him, like a child looking for their comfort blanket to chase away the demons at night, only this was so much more real, so much more validated and needed. And Harvey had clung back to Mike, because when they'd locked eyes, he'd seen all the terror the movies tried to portray, and he saw the desperation, and he saw someone he cared about in need.

He remembered Mike's voice, rough and scared and confused, repeating his name a dozen times until he finally gave in to sleep once more. And Harvey remembered silently promising never to move from where he was because Mike wasn't scared anymore. He didn't know what about him kept Mike's nightmares at bay, but he was willing to bring that peace to Mike – the same peace still showing now in the early hours of the morning.

The alarm clock kept going. Harvey rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to call Mike out of his sleep when Mike beat him to it.

"Your alarm is really loud," the associate mumbled, face partly buried in Harvey's arm but more buried in the pillow underneath Harvey's arm.

"Good thing, too," Harvey said, voice quiet. "If it wasn't, we would never hear it all the way in here."

"You're going to work today, aren't you?" Mike grunted.

"Unfortunately. Besides normal work, I've got damage control to do if you want any sort of normalcy when you come back to work. Come on. I've got to get up." Harvey tugged and Mike let his boss pull away and detach from their snuggle session. And wow. Harvey had only snuggled with a choice number of people in this world, and their names were Mike Ross.

He was halfway to the door when Mike spoke again. "Where's Grammy?"

The amount of stress caused by that question should be impossible. Harvey shrugged lightly and did his best not to slow down on his trek to the door. "You bought her an apartment in Manhattan," he answered easily.

There was a beat of silence and then, "She's dead, isn't she?"

Harvey stopped, his hand on the doorknob. He let out a silent breath and only turned around when he heard Mike let out a choked noise.

"Listen, Mike. You finally had a good sleep. Let's save this for later, alright?" he tried.

"You don't have to baby me, Harvey," Mike said, and Harvey knew that, but he also knew what happened to Mike the first time he'd received this news. "I already knew."

"Come again?" Harvey asked. He was 100% positive he'd never let the cat out of the bag... Mike's gran being the cat, and wow that expression had never made him feel guilty before.

"Damn brain," Mike muttered. He sighed. "You never talk about her... Even when I asked why no one else could take me in, you avoided her as a possibility without explanation. I've mentioned her a few times, and you always switch topics. It doesn't take someone like me to put the pieces together. She's gone."

Harvey hated this amnesia. He never knew what to say anymore. Mike was going through old news, old memories for the first time, and Harvey could only stand by and watch. Last time, he'd sent Mike home and then came over to get high with him, but not this time. Mike was already on leave, and Harvey wasn't going to let him do drugs.

"You really did buy her an apartment," Harvey offered lamely.

"Go to work, Harvey," Mike ordered with some annoyance. Harvey couldn't blame him. He felt like an asshole, and he hadn't even really done anything.

"We can talk when I get ho-," Harvey began, but Mike sat up and tossed one of the pillows at him.

"I slept, Harvey! I didn't forget! I need to be alone so I can process things, alright?!" and the shouting was more of a shock than the pillow.

Harvey stared at Mike, who was all red faced and brow knit. He watched as Mike's tense body slumped and sank back against the headboard, his face easing out and then crumpling into sadness. Harvey frowned and wished for the millionth time that there was something he could do.

"I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't mean to yell," Mike groaned. "I'm stressed. I just need some alone time."

Harvey nodded and lifted the pillow off the floor. "It's alright, Mike. It's a mood swing. Remember Dr. Fancy told us that was normal." He walked back and set the pillow on the foot of the bed. "Don't stress about it. It takes a lot more than some angry words to scare me away. I'll be home around eight and we can talk then. Okay?"

"Okay," Mike agreed. Harvey nodded and headed out again.

It was a lie. Harvey expected to be back around six, but he felt like coming home earlier than Mike would expect. He wondered what Mike got up to while he wasn't there, wondered if he'd be able to stop Mike before the living room needed to be mended this time. Part of him also wanted Mike to think he'd left work early to get back to him faster.

"And Harvey?" Mike called as Harvey swung the door open.

"Yeah, Mike?" Harvey turned around and backed up a step so he was one foot out of the room.

"Thanks... for last night. It really helped." Mike cleared his throat. He looked a little nervous. "I know that must have been weird for you and-."

"Mike," Harvey interrupted. He smiled a little to help Mike relax, and he thought he saw some of the worry leave the younger man's face. "Don't worry about it."

Worrying about the implications was Harvey's problem.

"Hey Harvey." Louis' arrival was not entirely surprising. "How's it goin? How's life treating you? Big case load?"

Harvey didn't know what he expected when he walked into work that day, but it definitely wasn't a revolving door of concerned employees. Before lunch hit, Harvey's office had been invaded by Donna, Jessica, Rachel, James or Jason or whoever, their head I.T. guy, a girl from logistics, the mail cart guy, and Norma. All were asking the same question – how is Mike?

"He's fine, Louis," Harvey grunted out, not even waiting for Louis to ask the real question.

The real surprise was how easily Louis let his facade go. "Really? He didn't look too good yesterday. What's wrong with him? I smell something big. It couldn't just be a car accident, right? Is it a conspiracy or something? I can help, you know."

"Whoa now. Reign in your conspiracy theories. It was just a car accident, Louis. He's got a concussion. Yesterday was a test run to see if he could handle working, and he failed. I told him to stay home and rest some more." It was the same story he'd told everyone. The same story he wished he could blow right open.

Part of Harvey wanted to say Mike was sick and staying with him, to tell everyone who asked that he was Mike's confidant, his support system. The other part of him was logical. No mention of Mike being at Harvey's house. No mention of amnesia.

"Come on, Harvey. I saw the head gash. It's gotta be more serious than that," Louis tried again, and he did at least seem genuinely concerned for Mike. That kept Harvey from getting too annoyed with him.

"Louis. It's nothing. I'll have Donna call and check on him tonight for an update if you're really that curious, but otherwise I really do have work to do. Actual cases, you know." Harvey liked to end the line of questioning early. He didn't want anyone poking their noses into Mike's business, and he didn't want to be the middleman for those problems anyway. He couldn't wait for Mike to get his memory back so all of this would blow over.

"No, no. No need." Louis looked flustered. He waved his hands in tiny motions to brush away the idea. "Don't want to mother hen the kid, right? Well when you next talk to him, tell him some of the associates are worried about him and hope he comes back soon."

And with that, Louis skittered from the office. Harvey couldn't help but be impressed. All of the visitors he'd had and all of the associates... Mike really had reached out to a lot of people in the company. He'd sent out roots, planting himself as a constant in these people's lives. Harvey was definitely impressed, but there was this heavy feeling as well – the realization that Mike didn't have to remember everything for Harvey's sake but for everyone's sakes. Sometimes it was easy to forget the world existed outside of himself, Mike, and Donna.

The police showed up just after lunch, asking questions about the shooting the previous afternoon. Harvey described the shooter in detail. To the cops, he explained everything – about Mike in the hospital from a near fatal attack, the amnesia, the shooter aiming for him, and about Mike's panic attack that drove Harvey from the scene before the police could get a story from him there. They asked about Mike, what trouble he might have gotten into, but Harvey shook his head and told them it wasn't about Mike. Mike's ex-best friend was the one they should look for. He gave a description of Trevor, and the police promised to find him and figure out what was going on. The suggestion they gave regarding Mike was that he should lay low, stay home. Yeah, exactly. They said it as though Harvey hadn't been planning that already this whole time.

No one knew where Mike really was, and that was the safest thing right now.

After the police left, Harvey took out his phone and dialed Trevor's number again. Donna came in when he started pacing and redialing.

"Trying the ex again?" she asked and held out a glass of water.

Harvey eyed the liquid. "Is this you trying to tell me I'm being too emotional?"

"No." Donna rolled her eyes and set the glass on his desk. "Now is the little jerk answering his phone?"

"No." Harvey ended his third attempt and set his phone on his desk, away from the water. "It's been a while. If he were found dead, one of the nurses I got in contact with would have called or the police would have notified me from when I called two weeks ago. I can't wrap my head around it. Where's this bastard gone?"

"Maybe Mike knows," Donna suggested and Harvey shot her a dangerous look.

"Mike barely remembers Pearson Hardman. How would he know where Trevor is?" he asked. Mike hadn't brought up finding Trevor since the hospital and Harvey didn't want to plant that idea in his head again.

"Mike remembers Pearson Hardman?" Donna asked, perking up like an excited kitten.

Harvey sighed and his expression turned tired. Donna deflated but the curiosity on her face never changed.

"Sort of. He said he remembers our first case together and how we met," he said.

Donna smiled. "But that's great?... Isn't that great? Why isn't this great? You're frowning."

"He knows about his grandmother," Harvey explained with a heavy drop of his shoulders.

"Oh." Donna's shoulders sank as well, but before she could say anything, Harvey was speaking again.

"And his nightmares are getting worse. I literally had to shout at him this morning to get him out of it. I don't know what to do with him." Harvey knew what he wanted to do with the ones who'd hurt Mike. He knew what he wanted to do each night to keep Mike's nightmares at bay. But he didn't know how to help Mike in the long run. Harvey wouldn't always be there.

"Well you can't send him anywhere else!" Donna exclaimed, as though reading other potential options in Harvey's pauses. "You're all he's got. He needs you."

"What do you mean?" Harvey leaned back against his desk and grabbed the water, sipping it slowly.

"I mean the kid trusted you without knowing who you were and now he's got the memories back of when he worshipped the ground you walked on. Mike's going to expect you to fix everything. Harvey Specter, the man who can stop a hostage situation with a pen and paper, remember? You were like his hero," Donna explained. Harvey pushed off the desk, a sudden thought exploding in his mind.

"Hold up. Say that again," he said, setting the water back down so he wouldn't spill it by making wild hand motions.

"Which part? That was kind of a long spiel." Donna's eyes raised up as she went back over everything she'd said in her mind.

"You said he thinks I can fix anything, that I'm his hero," Harvey clarified.

Donna huffed out a short breath. "Well duh. Haven't you noticed? He has a problem, he comes to you." Seeing Harvey's confused and surprised expression, her eyes softened and she smiled. "You're like his saving grace, Harvey. You took that kid off the streets and gave him a place to belong."

Harvey would marvel over his own greatness at that feat later. Right now his mind was spinning. He was Mike's hero. His presence kept Mike's nightmares at bay – nightmares about what happened. And this morning, before he'd gotten Mike to wake up, Mike had been crying something about no one being there to save him. Just the way he used to mumble Harvey's name in his sleep at the hospital.

"Damn it," Harvey grumbled out loud.

"What? Again, why is this a bad thing?" Donna asked, holding her hands up in expectation of clarification.

"He was waiting for me," Harvey said. When Donna didn't look appeased by that answer, he gave her an annoyed look and groaned. "When they were tearing into him. He was waiting for me to save him. I was literally his last thought before his amnesia."

"Strangely romantic but also really sad. Are you sure?" Donna asked.

"About as sure as I am that it's all Trevor's fault." Which also meant he had no technical proof, but he could feel it in his gut.

Donna's touched smile was almost making him uncomfortable. Then she snapped to attention and got serious. "So you gotta save him then," she said.

"Excuse me?" Harvey asked, eyebrows knitting.

"Mike's in trouble. You're his iconic hero. He's waiting for you to save the day. Once he knows he's safe, maybe his memory will come back," she explained. At his look she pouted. "What? The nurse said amnesia's not a science. Why can't this one have a romantic, book worthy ending?"

"Because I'm not a hero, Mike's no damsel, and we're not romantically involved. Mike likes Rachel, remember?" Harvey pointed out, even motioning out the glass to the offices.

Donna smirked. "So does that mean you like Mike? You got a thing for your associate? How textbook romance novel is that?"

"Shut up, Donna," Harvey said and turned away from her, going to his wall of records.

"Doesn't sound like a denial to me. So listen, forget the music. Let's just skip to the part where you rescue Mike and have a shotgun wedding. Go home and ask him where Trevor is, and you can leave the bastard half dead in a ditch outside the hospital while you ride off with Mike on a white horse." Donna was getting far too excited about this.

"That's ridiculous," Harvey said, pulling the Spinners off the shelf and moving to the player. "First of all, I don't have a white horse and neither does Mike, and I bet the rental fees on those things are outrageous. Secondly, I'm telling you Mike doesn't know where Trevor is. And for the third issue, Mike and I are not one of your romance novels. We're business associates, and right now we're barely even that. Besides, aren't those books just flowery covers that all end in clichés and sex?"

"No comment. And anyway, can't you at least TRY to ask him?" Donna huffed and put her hands on her hips.

Harvey groaned and smoothed down his hair while the music began to fill the room. "Why are you so certain he'll know anything?" he asked.

"Because every time Trevor shows up, he doesn't just show up once. He makes multiple appearances – you know, like how bad things always come in threes. You really think he's going to leave Mike alone once he finds out Mike's alive? I don't think so. If he's behind this, he'll know about the attempted shooting, which means he'll know Mike's up and moving. Mike either knows where he might hide or Trevor will come out of hiding to meet him. Either way, Mike is a better asset than the cops," Donna said and gave Harvey a look that scolded him with a 'Really? The cops? You went to the cops?' agenda.

"Fine." Harvey tapped the record sleeve against the side of the player and then set it down forcefully. "Fine, I'll ask Mike about Trevor. But in return, you stop with all the romance novel parallels. Deal?"

"So long as I can still draw perpendicular references," Donna replied with a grin and walked out of the office, the clicking of her heels sounding far too pleased.

Harvey sighed and looked down at the spinning vinyl before him. He and Mike were no romance novel. Anyone could see that. Harvey could see that. He was Mike's hero, but he was not Mike's prince or mysterious detective or wandering warlock or brooding vampire or however those books went.

He didn't want Mike to know where Trevor was. He didn't want Trevor seeking Mike out, and he definitely didn't want Mike answering Trevor's call... but Donna was right. When it came to hunting Trevor down, Mike was the perfect bait.

"Damn it." Harvey lifted the needle off the record, unable to listen to the music any longer, and just watched the disc spin.

When five thirty hit, Harvey was snapping his case load shut and moving out of the office. Some associates assumed he was going to meet a client, and that's what Donna would tell them if they asked, but he wasn't coming back to the office later and he wasn't going to meet a client. Not really.

Mike wasn't a client. No matter how much importance Donna was putting on Mike when it came to finding Trevor, Mike wasn't someone Harvey had to go close for the sake of the case.

At first, Harvey thought of going straight home, but then he asked Ray to swing by Mike's place first. He wanted to look around the area, see if there were any hints to what happened. Mike's bike was gone – either taken by his attackers or by some kids or some looter, but it was a lost cause. Harvey could look for signs of the struggle though. Why had no one noticed and called the police?

Ray parked the car just down the street from the entrance to Mike's building and turned around to lay a sad look on Harvey.

"It's not your fault, you know," he said. "You don't have to solve this one. You got the police involved now."

"That's where you're wrong, Ray. If I don't solve it, it'll never get solved." Harvey grabbed his jacket off the seat beside him and was about to get out of the car when he saw it. "Ray, turn around," he said.

The driver spun around and searched for what Harvey saw, and it wasn't hard to find. Mike. He was coming out of his apartment building, cell phone to his ear. He looked distracted and maybe even angry. He ripped the phone away from his ear and shoved it in his pocket before looking around for something or someone.

Ray ducked a little, but Harvey knew Mike wouldn't recognize the car from this far away, and he wouldn't be able to see inside with this lighting. Mike's memory was good, but he'd only see the town car from the side and only for a brief moment.

Mike shook his head and then held it, and Harvey knew he'd made himself dizzy. Dumb kid was pushing himself too hard. He probably still had his concussion. Then Mike was on the move, hailing a cab that came around the corner.

"Follow him," Harvey ordered, and Ray jumped into action. Harvey watched the taxi move in front of them as though taking his eyes off it for a second would cause it to disappear. Why had Mike been at his apartment? Where was Mike going now?

Harvey shook his head gently. He knew. Donna had been right. There was only one person Mike would be angry with on the phone, only one person he'd leave safety to see... because Mike didn't have anyone else. Because Mike was the only one who'd always answer their call – Trevor.

Harvey's stomach burned.

Preview chapter 9:

To be fair, sneaking out hadn't been on the top of Mike's to-do list, but when your no-good ex-best friend pops back up on the map after going missing for over two weeks and he's the only clue you have to what the hell happened to you... you agree to meet him no matter how pissed you are at him.

"When you see me, you always get tense or sad looking. You feel responsible for me, but... You make me relaxed but I'm just stressing you out, aren't I?" Mike frowned deeper.

Mike gasped and curled in on himself. He rolled, making it onto his stomach, and wiggled, trying to crawl away. He kept thinking he just needed to get away from here, hide somewhere. There was no escaping. He could feel it in the bruised part of his gut, in the sticky oozing wound on his shoulder. Fear clouded every sense that wasn't absorbed in pain.

"I'm here for you, whether you accept that or not."