Mike had never stepped foot into the infirmary before. He might have been here, briefly, when he was unconscious, about two weeks ago, but he'd returned from that little outing through the prison transport entrance as opposed to the medical one. It wasn't exactly impressive- he was led through a long hallway with two locking doors before stepping out into what was really not much more than a makeshift clinic. It had four medical tables, all out in the open and separated only by curtained partitions. Cabinets lined the four walls of the room, some of which were padlocked and some of which were not.
More than once, Mike almost lost his footing- no doubt his adrenaline dying down. A quick glance at his shirt told him that it wasn't from any kind of blood loss- the red patch was barely visible on his blue overshirt. Still, his heart was pounding in his ears.
The second he sat down on the examination table furthest from the door, he heard a curtain pull and then the table was being partially elevated so that he could lean back without lying all the way down. Gloved fingers tugged off his button down, then lifted his arms to take off his white undershirt. He complied as best he could, and tried to relax. It was over, it was finally over…
"Not a deep cut." The doctor said. "Just over an eighth of an inch deep and less than a quarter long. Doesn't need stitches. You're a very lucky man, Mr. Ross."
Mike wasn't entirely sure how to respond. Baring that first meeting with Harvey and being born with an eidetic memory, he'd always found his luck to be more than sorely lacking. It seemed more likely that Gallo just had shit aim.
Eventually, he gave up trying to come up with a response and let his head lull back on the upright table, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he registered that he should ask for the head guard, make sure that they got the right footage, but right now, doing anything of the sort seemed outright exhausting.
He felt the sting of alcohol on his cut and flinched. "Sorry," The doctor said. "We'll get you cleaned up in just a moment."
Mike could only nod as he felt the doctor press a gauze pad and a large bandage over his shoulder, running gloved hands over the edges to make sure it didn't shift.
"We'll keep you in here for an hour or two for observation, then send you back." The doctor added.
Mike nodded mutely again; eyes still closed
"He's getting out in a few hours." The female guard who'd escorted him supplied. "His lawyer's on his way down now anyway."
At the mention of Harvey, Mike opened his eyes to meet the guard's too knowing look. "Hell of a representative you got there."
"He's alright." Mike agreed, unable to stop the weak smile that formed on his features.
"Not what I heard." she replied, but she looked down at him like she wanted to smile.
The radio buzzed on her shoulder. "Got a 105 for Inmate Ross outside the infirmary."
The guard scoffed. "Case and point." She said, nodding at Mike before reaching over to touch the button on her shoulder. "Send him in."
She nodded down at Mike. "Technically I'm supposed to ask- I'm assuming you want to see your lawyer?"
Mike snorted. "I doubt anyone could stop him from getting in here."
The blonde guard barked out a laugh, then turned to head towards the hallway in the direction they'd come.
"Come on, doc." She said. "Attorney client privilege."
The doctor gave him a once over again, frowning. "I don't suppose there's any harm in leaving you alone for a few moments with your lawyer when you're getting out today." She said. "This is going to be a shitton of paperwork for such a little thing."
She slipped behind the partition, and Mike heard her address someone else. "I'll be in that office. You have ten minutes."
"We'll have as long as he goddamn wants." Harvey's voice ground out.
Mike had already opened his mouth to speak when Harvey whipped back the curtain. To apologize, to justify, to make a sarcastic quip, to ask why the hell Harvey had snapped at the nurse (who really shouldn't be in his line of fire, given that none of this was prison policy).
But the look on Harvey's face- simultaneously, dangerously stoic and livid- made him hesitate. Harvey, for his part, didn't pause at all, ripping the curtain shut behind him and practically stalking into Mike's space. For a split second, Mike legitimately wondered if Harvey was angry enough to smack him upside the head where he sat.
Instead, Harvey crashed in, pulled Mike forward to him in a bone crushing embrace, both arms around him with Mike's side practically pinned to Harvey's chest. His arms locked, fast and firm, (careful only of the bandage on Mike's shoulder), as though Mike was going to be ripped out of his arms the instant Harvey released him.
And then Mike lost all train of thought when one of Harvey's hands came up to rest on the back of his neck, to hold his head just over his heart.
Oh.
How many nights had Mike closed his eyes and used their last embrace as a jumping off point for the oblivion of sleep? Even his perfect memory couldn't compare to the real thing- Harvey's strong arms and soft hands, the smell of his cologne, broad chest with a pounding heart beating under a (for once) hastily thrown-on suit…
"I thought I'd lost you." Harvey's voice was hoarser than Mike had ever heard.
Mike reached up to clutch at the arms wrapped around him and leaned into Harvey, drawing in a few long sharp breaths of Harvey's cologne. He felt safer than he had in weeks, possibly in years, and he felt the stirrings of real, genuine hope in his chest. Surely, this wasn't the kind of hug you gave a platonic friend. Maybe, with a little more time, he could take the leap and ask if Harvey would ever consider...
He pushed that aside for the moment, inhaling again, savoring the moment. They were out of the woods now, and he would be out and free in a few short hours... there would be time to ponder the future later. A future with nothing and no one hanging over them. No big secrets, no threats of prison time, no looming uncontrollable walls threatening to close in.
"I'm okay." He said. It felt truer now than when he'd set it over the phone.
Harvey's breath was a shudder around him. He said nothing, though Mike thought he felt Harvey's fingers weave into his hair. It sent his imagination running wild all over again.
What would it be like to go home with Harvey today? Just him and Harvey, walking out the gates of Danberry together. Maybe out to lunch and then home to his big, beautiful condo with its endless windows. Maybe they'd watch the game or a movie, and end up just talking about nothing for a few hours. Now that it was finally all over.
If he asked, would Harvey consider holding him like this for a few hours, even if it never went any further?
All too soon, Harvey drew back, though (to Mike's immense relief) it was just enough so he could examine the excessive bandages on Mike's shoulder.
"They're just trying to avoid a lawsuit." Mike supplied. "It doesn't hurt, really it's nothing more than a scratch.
Harvey didn't reply, his dark brown eyes flat black in their intensity. It was a dangerous gaze that Mike had rarely found himself on the receiving end of, one that never failed to make Harvey's opponents at least take a step back and re-examine their life choices. Mike tried to suppress a shiver at it, but, still pressed against Harvey's chest as he was, he couldn't be certain that Harvey didn't feel his response.
Harvey did not look back up at his face, rather, he remained fixated on Mike's chest. With a tenderness that did not match his gaze, he trailed his warm, firm fingers over the bandage, then ran them the distance between the wound and Mike's heart. The path he created couldn't have been any more than three inches.
'I'm okay, Harvey." Mike tried again. "It's over."
Harvey's eyes flickered shut, and he tucked Mike's head back against his chest.
"You didn't need to do this." It wasn't a growl, closer to an angry murmur. "Any of it. You could have let me..."
"I couldn't let you get Gallo out." Mike said quietly. "I couldn't let you lie for me, not again, and not under oath."
He felt Harvey tense, like he wanted to be angry. He tightened his arms around Mike to the point of rigidity, and Mike vaguely wondered if Harvey was attempting to absorb him into himself.
But all he said was "You're worth it. You've always been worth it."
"So are you." Mike replied. "And this way, Gallo isn't getting out, and we're not looking over our shoulders for the rest of our days."
He felt the fingers in his hair again, stroking softly. He fought the urge to nuzzle in, give himself away to what he desperately wanted this to mean.
"Sean told me your plan." Harvey said, and Mike heard the grimace. "I wish you'd told me."
"You wouldn't have let me do it."
"Damn right." But there was no anger in his voice, no bite in his words.
Mike tried to look up at his face- a bit awkward since Harvey's hand did not move from his hair.
"Well, I did make Cahill promise he'd let you bring this thing home. You know, to make it up to you." Mike said, offering a smile. "Think you can have that talk with Gallo without killing him?"
For another split second, Mike thought he saw it- a positively menacing smirk that flickered across Harvey's face and went straight to his eyes, even as his fingers gently sifted through Mike's hair. It was gone before Mike could comment, not replaced with anything resembling Mike's lighthearted tone, but with a dark humor that was at least familiar.
"Oh, absolutely." He said, "As long as you promise to stay out of trouble for the next ten hours or so."
"You know me, I can't promise anything." Mike said cheekily.
The way Harvey's jaw clenched told him now was not the time. "Alright, alright, I promise. As long as you promise you won't try to burn the place to the ground the second we step outside."
Harvey snorted. "I'll give it a solid half hour, scout's honor."
They heard the office door open, the doctor returning. Harvey let out a sigh and stepped back, releasing him.
"Have fun." Mike said cheerfully.
The familiar, exasperated-affectionate look that crossed Harvey's face was a breath of fresh air Mike didn't know he needed. Harvey nodded once at the doctor, then turned and stalked back towards the hallway that led to the rest of the prison.
"Not so much as a paper cut on him." He heard Harvey growl at the guard re-entering the room. "Or I'll bury each and every one of you in lawsuits for the next thirty years."
Mike couldn't help but smile a little as the doctor handed him a new white shirt and overshirt.
"He like that with all of his clients?" The doctor asked, gaze following Harvey beyond the clinic's door and a hint of jealousy coloring her voice.
Mike smiled. "Just me." And that must mean something, right?
He settled back on the upright table, closing his eyes, letting the still fresh memory of Harvey's arms around him tug him into a light slumber. Maybe, soon, he'd get to find out what it was really like to fall asleep in Harvey's arms.