Hi there! This idea came to me a few days ago and I couldn't let it go. Hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! Also, I know that Harvey's dad is going to be ooc in this story, so apologies for that! (I don't own Suits or any of the characters)
"Mike, stop squirming! I've got to get this tie, oh goddamn it, fine!" Gordon Specter threw the slim red tie on the ground in frustration and stood up. He straightened his own tie and suit as he tried to calm himself down.
It wasn't the five-year old's fault. Gordon could recognize that much. In fact, despite the kid's age, he had rarely caused them any trouble. Mike was usually one of the happiest and calmest kids alive, according to practically every adult who met him. But here Gordon was in the impossible position of trying to get his two sons ready for their mother's funeral. He was still trying to process the impossible fact that his wife was gone. A fact that he was going to have to come face to face with in an hour.
He couldn't do it. It felt like everything was crumbling around him and nothing seemed to make any sense any more. How did it come to this?
His eyes roamed around the room. The sky blue room with the clouds that his wife had painted. He could see her, six months pregnant and determined to get the room done before their second joined them. Joking with him as he watched. Dancing to the music she'd put on while she painted.
He could see her everywhere, even in the eyes of his crying child.
He knew he should comfort Mike. He hated himself for not wanting to bend down and calm him. He hated that couldn't help but wish to be anywhere else on the planet at that moment. Hated that even looking at Mike made him think of her and everything that he'd lost.
Hated that he could even consider blaming the five year old, because being angry was easier than feeling the loss.
"Need some help, dad?"
Gordon turned to see Harvey standing in the doorway of the bedroom. The nine year old was dressed and had a resigned look on his face, as if he was already bracing for what was about to happen. He seemed to have grown up overnight. The childish glint in his eyes was extinguished, replaced with a solemn stare. Gordon wondered how such a thing could be possible.
Gordon sighed, unable to deny that he was relieved to have an excuse to get out of that room.
"Get Mike ready and down to the car, we're leaving in ten," he instructed as he walked out of the room.
Harvey nodded and focused his attention on his sobbing little brother, "Come here, Mikey," he opened his arms.
Immediately Mike rushed over, burying his mop of blonde hair into Harvey's chest. He clutched the front of his older brother's shirt like a lifeline. Like if he let go, Harvey might disappear too.
Harvey held him. He tried to mimic the way their mother would run her fingers through their hair when she wanted to comfort them. His throat tightened at the thought. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep his own tears at bay. If he started crying now, there was no way that he'd be able to get Mike to calm down. Mike had always been sensitive to other people's feelings in that way.
After a couple of minutes Harvey gently pulled away. He made Mike meet his eyes, "Okay Mikey, we need to finish getting ready now."
"No," Mike whined, stepping away, his cheeks flushed, "I don't wanna. Harv, please, I don' wanna."
"I don't either," Harvey replied, reaching down to grab the tie their father had thrown onto the ground and turning back to his brother, "But we have to. Now come here."
Sniffling and defeated since his brother wasn't going to take his side, Mike walked over to him and tried to stand still. Harvey got the tie over Mike's head. His fingers fumbled as he tried to tie the knot. He'd only learned it himself the night before. It took him a few tries, but eventually he got it mostly right. He slid the knot up, but made sure not to tighten it too much.
Mike stood as still as he could, silent tears streaking down his cheeks. Harvey could still see the thin row of stitches along his hairline, the only physical evidence that Mike had been in the car with their mom when the truck had plowed into them. The bruise had faded to a motley yellow-green color, mostly obscured by blonde curls.
"It's going to be okay," Harvey promised, grabbing Mike's hand and leading him towards the door. The day was already going to be difficult enough, he didn't want to add to it by making them late and thus making their dad more upset.
"Do we have to drive?" Mike asked, allowing himself to be pulled along, "I don't like cars."
"Since when-" the question died on Harvey's lips as the cause for Mike's tantrum hit him. Of course Mike was afraid to ride in cars now. Someone died last time. "We have to," he stated instead as he led them down the stairs.
As they approached the garage door Mike's breathing began to speed up until he was practically hyperventilating. He stumbled over his feet, Harvey's grip on his hand the only thing keeping him upright.
"Woah, Mikey, calm down," Harvey paused and grabbed both of his brother's hands.
Mike was sensitive, but Harvey was good at reading people. Empathetic. That's what their mom used to say. Harvey could tell what people were feeling, but he didn't know what to do about it.
"I can't," Mike whined, his eyes starting to tear up again, "I can't. I'm sorry."
"Okay, okay, uhm," Harvey scrambled to figure out a solution.
If he didn't, he knew he'd be dealing with another meltdown. And if he didn't get Mike into that car soon, their dad was going to march in and drag Mike kicking and screaming if necessary. Harvey didn't know if it was just their dad's way of processing what had happened, or what, but he'd noticed that their dad had a lot less patience with Mike since the accident. He didn't want to add fuel to that fire.
"Uhm, what if I carry you?" Harvey suggested.
"Wha- What?" Mike hiccupped.
Mike was getting too big for it, but Harvey could handle it if needed. Whatever it took.
"I can carry you and you can close your eyes the entire time, okay? Pretend you're somewhere else. You won't even have to open them until we're there," Mike looked doubtful, "I'll hold your hand the entire ride," Harvey promised. He usually hated physical contact in anything other than sports or roughhousing, but he knew that Mike loved it. Like he said, sensitive.
Mike still seemed uncertain, but he trusted his brother. He nodded reluctantly. He wrapped his short arms around Harvey's neck when Harvey bent down and wrapped his legs around Harvey's waist. Harvey grunted a little as he stood up. He adjusted Mike's weight to his hip as he opened the door to the garage door. Mike tucked his head into Harvey's shoulder at the sound of the car engine starting. His fingers clawed into Harvey's back like a cat scared to go into a carrier.
"He's too big for that," their father grumbled as Harvey opened one of the rear car doors.
Harvey placed Mike in his car seat and buckled him in, "It's fine, I've got it," he replied. He didn't know how to put it into words, but Mike's neediness seemed like a blessing. It gave him something to focus on other than their mom and everything that was about to happen. Everything that was about to change for good.
As promised, once Harvey had gotten situated in his own seat, he reached over and grabbed one of Mike's hands. He glanced over at him, wondering how they were going to make it through today when just getting into a car was a battle. Mike had scrunched up his whole face in order to keep his eyes closed. His cheeks were still wet from earlier, but he'd stopped crying.
Harvey could remember meeting Mike in the hospital for the first time. He honestly hadn't really known what to think of him. Their mom loved to tell the story about how Harvey had compared baby Mike to a pug when he first saw him. Harvey didn't remember that. He remembered sitting carefully on the bed next to her and holding Mike for the first time and the feeling of Mike's fingers wrapping around one of his.
He smiled at the now bittersweet memory and turned to look out the window.
Harvey wasn't the only one lost in memories.
"Mommy, can we listen to the Disney CD, again?" Mike swung his legs up and down in the car seat. Up and down. Up and down.
"I'm driving right now, Mikey," his mother replied, glancing at him in the rearview mirror; blue eyes met blue eyes, "We're almost home sweetie."
"Please, mommy? Please, I really -"
"Okay, okay," his mom relented with a chuckle.
She stopped at the stop sign and bent down to grab the CD. She opened the case. The car started absently rolling forward. She put the CD into the player and smiled up at the rearview mirror.
"Thank you Mommy-"
"We're here," Harvey's voice pulled Mike back to the present.
Feeling himself still stuck in his carseat, Mike shook his head and squeezed his eyes closed even tighter. Trying to remember or think about something else. Anything else. Mike wasn't old enough to know that he had a photographic memory or that in just a year, they'd start testing him in school and every year thereafter. He didn't know that he'd always be able to remember those last few moments with crystal clarity.
The dress their mom had been wearing.
The way her skin crinkled around her eyes when she smiled.
The sound of metal crushing and collapsing around them.
All engraved into his young mind.
Mike felt Harvey let go of his hand. For a second he felt lost, suspended over the empty chasm between his memories and the present. He heard their father get out of the car. He heard his door open and felt someone undoing the buckles strapping him in.
"I've got ya," he heard Harvey's voice and felt himself being pulled out, "There we go."
Mike refused to open his eyes until his feet were touching the ground. He opened one eye cautiously, verifying that he was no longer in a vehicle, before relaxing and opening the other.
Now that the fear of the car ride to the church had faded, the fear of attending their mother's funeral began to set in. Mike froze.
Harvey held out a hand and Mike grasped it, gazing up uncertainly at his big brother.
"We'll do this together," Harvey said, his voice wavering.
"Boys, let's go," their dad called from halfway up the steps to the church.
Mike nodded at Harvey and squeezed his hand. Harvey squeezed back. They walked up the steps and into the church together.
The boys stayed side by side, inseparably connected by their hands and the unspoken understanding that they were going to pull each other through.
They held hands as they stood in the back of the church next to their father and strangers gave them hugs and told them how sorry they were. How much their mother had loved them. How she'd always be with them.
They held hands as they sat during the service. Hearing about how their mother was 'in a better place' and people they barely recognized talked about how important their mother had been to them. How much of a difference she'd made in everyone's life.
They held hands as they stood outside in the sticky heat as they laid their mother to rest and watched them lower her into the ground. "From dust we were born and to dust we shall return."
They held hands as their entire world crumpled apart before their eyes. As they watched their father take the first step in losing himself in his grief, leaving them with only each other to rely on.
They held hands.
They didn't let go.
I hope you liked it, thank you for taking the time to read. I'm thinking of having the chapters be snapshots that are in chronological order. If you have any ideas or scenes that you want to see, please feel free to pm or leave a review and I'll try to add it in! If you have a spare moment, please, please, leave a review with your thoughts. Any feedback is helpful and extremely appreciated.
Thanks again! :)
