Work Text:
At first, the case isn't anything special. Not really. One of the manufacturing companies they represent wants to merge with a competitor, A-line. Nothing Harvey hasn't gone through a thousand times. In fact, it's sliding along quite easily. Maybe that should have been a red flag.
Mike stumbles on something he wasn't meant to in the process of due diligence.
The son of A-line's CEO, Justin Davis, has some suspicious transactions within the company. Nothing outright damning, but certainly enough to raise some concern. Harvey can't help but heave a sigh as he looks over Mike's findings. This is definitely going to turn into a mess.
There are many things that make Harvey a great lawyer. His intuition is perhaps the biggest one. Right now, he's damn near positive this kid is embezzling.
"What are you going to do?" Mike asks.
"Get the kid to talk." Harvey stands.
"You think he's just gonna admit it to you?"
"Maybe not at first." He shrugs on his jacket. "But once he understands that we'll find out one way or another, he'll cave."
--
Mike is pretty sure this is the worst confrontation he's ever seen (and he's seen some doozies working with Harvey). But, then again, maybe it's going great. He can never really tell with Harvey, the man is so calm and collected. Even as Justin Davis throws a glass of water at his head, he doesn't seem particularly fazed. Mike even wonders if he's enjoying it. For his part, Mike keeps close to the door, ready to get help if Justin actually throws a punch. He looks like he might, for a moment, as he marches up to Harvey.
"How about you back the fuck off before things get ugly, huh?" The kid says instead, crowding up close.
For a few tense seconds, they stay there, inches apart. Harvey's smile never wavers and he holds eye contact until Justin backs off. Then the kid stomps out of the room in a huff. Mike watches him go before turning to give his mentor a nervous look. But Harvey just smirks back.
"He won't try anything." He says, assured.
"How do you know?" Mike asks, very much not.
"I've seen plenty of spoiled brats like him bark up a fuss, but they never bite. He doesn't have it in him. He'll crack under the pressure."
Mike watches Harvey sit, trying to feel reassured. He trusts Harvey, sure. But something about the anger on that kid's face had felt different.
So, Mike makes this case his priority, trying to squeeze as much info as he can out of Justin's coworkers without raising any more red flags than they already have. It's a long, grueling few days. Yet he keeps picturing the fury in the kid's face and, even more troubling, the fear hiding beneath it. It makes him push on, be even more thorough.
It must pay off because at the end of day 3 Harvey looks over his work and then smiles up at him in that distantly proud way of his.
"This is good. Do a full background check on Justin and have it on my desk by tomorrow." He hands the file back and stands.
Mike can't stop his face from wrinkling in disgust at this. Another late night at the office.
"Let me guess, while I do that you're going to go sleep in your nice cozy apartment."
Harvey shrugs, smirking. "This is the way things work, Mike. You have to earn the right to sleep in your bed."
"Right, how could I forget?" Mike rolls his eyes and heads for the door. Still, he feels better. So, he turns to shoot Harvey a small but genuine smile. "Goodnight, Harvey."
Harvey nods amicably and Mike heads back to his desk.
--
Harvey doesn't take work home. Well, sometimes he does. But, as a general rule, he tries to avoid it. So, when he sees Mike calling him only a few hours after he got home, he hopes it's for a damn good reason. For Mike's sake.
'"Wh-"
Mike immediately cuts him off, voice tense. "We have a problem."
"Something bad enough you had to call me this late?"
"Yes."
"What is it?"
Mike hesitates. "I think... I found what Justin is using the money for."
"Well don't leave me in suspense, Mike. Spit it out."
"I don't- I mean- Can I..." More hesitation, then he continues quieter. "Y'know... say it on the phone?"
"You're the one who called me." Harvey feels himself getting frustrated. "What? Do you think someone could be listening?"
Mike doesn't answer.
"It can't wait until tomorrow?"
"No, no way. This is bad. He could- I mean if Justin knew-" Mike exhales shakily. "I don't think he'll stick to barking."
Clearly, Mike is freaking out so Harvey says "Why don't you bring what you found to my apartment. We'll talk more then, alright?"
Mike mumbles his assent and then hangs up. This probably isn't a good development. But Harvey tells himself things are still under control. He's good at reading people. Justin won't do anything drastic and he certainly isn't the type to listen in to phone conversations. Mike is overreacting as per usual.
Harvey settles into his couch to wait, perfectly calm.
--
Mike is dying.
Or at least, it feels that way. He climbs into a cab, clutching three folders worth of documents that paint a very ugly picture of a very powerful kid. Because, at the end of the day, that's what Justin is. A spoiled kid who will likely go to great lengths to destroy anyone in his way. Anyone like Mike.
He is so totally going to die.
For the entire cab ride, his leg is bouncing like crazy. He tries to get his breathing under control but it feels like his skin is on fire and his heart is slamming against his chest. What he wouldn't give for a cold shower.
Finally, they arrive at Harvey's apartment building. As he rushes into the lobby, Mike realizes he only ever comes here for bad reasons. He wishes that wasn't the case. Then he immediately feels stupid. What? Is he just gonna swing by and hang out at his boss' apartment? Watch a movie? Smoke some weed? As soon as he thinks that, he really wishes he had a joint. Fuck, he can't breathe.
Spamming the elevator button, Mike fails to notice the equally disheveled man that comes up behind him. As soon as the doors slide open Mike steps in. The man follows. It's only once he's pressed the floor number and the doors begin to close that Mike looks at him. He's got the hood of his sweatshirt up and he's standing in such a way that it blocks much of his face. He doesn't push a floor button or request one. He just stands close to the door, turned slightly away from Mike.
Tightening his grip on the folders in his hands, Mike tells himself there are an infinite number of reasons that this is normal. They just happen to be going to the same floor. That hoodie is high quality, definitely nice enough to fit in here. Some people just aren't talkative. Plus it's late, he could be tired or drunk. Mike tells himself he's just overreacting, like Harvey always says. It almost works. Almost.
His phone rings, shrill and painful in the tense quiet of the elevator. It makes both of them startle. Switching the folders to his other hand, he tugs it out of his pocket. Before he can answer it, the man has turned to him, pulling a bandana over his face.
The elevator opens and Mike throws himself out, past the man. He gets maybe a few feet down the hall before a hand grabs his arm. Out of instinct, he finds himself turning. The man's face is now inches from his own. Then, he feels this strange, sharp punch in his gut that knocks all the air out of him. The two of them stumble as the man presses harder into him. The files hit the floor.
As he sucks in a strange, wheezing gasp, Mike finally realizes he's being stabbed.
Then, the blade is ripped out of him and pain finally catches up. He cries out, strangled and confused. He puts his hands up, trying to push the attacker away. Instead, the man shoves Mike up against the wall, drilling the knife into him again. This time the pain is instant and he can't stop the cry that's ripped out of him. Frozen in shock, he looks into the wide, shaky eyes of his attacker. He thinks they look familiar.
Then the knife is being pulled out again, slowly this time. He feels warmth spreading across his shirt. The man backs up, watching him, before stooping to grab the files. Mike's eyes go out of focus and his head spins. He tries to speak but no sound comes out.
"If you live," The words are shaky, distant. "Tell Harvey he was warned to back the fuck off."
The man takes off running. Mike slides down the wall. He gasps in a few hollow breaths, hand lightly pressing on his stomach.
Unable to think straight, he fumbles at his pants pocket for his phone. He needs to call 911. He needs help. He needs to call... Where the hell is his phone? He can hear it ringing. It sounds far away.
Turning his head, he sees it lying a few feet off. Shit. He tries to move but agony rips through him so severely that his vision goes white. So, he falls back with a small whimper.
This time when he thinks he's dying, he knows that it's true.
--
Harvey does not like to be kept waiting. He also does not like being ignored. So, at that particular moment, Mike is not his favorite person. The kid was already taking way too long and now he's ignoring Harvey's call? He can't just call in the middle of the night acting out a soap opera and then take ten million years to come over. Making his way towards his apartment door, intent on hunting Mike down if necessary, Harvey presses the call button again.
"You had better pick up this time or so help me..." His words fall off as he hears a phone ring in the hall outside his door.
A strange feeling of foreboding falls over him and he doesn't like what his intuition starts to whisper.
Throwing open his door, Harvey sees Mike's phone lying on the ground outside his door. Then he hears this strange coughing, gurgling sound. He looks down the hall and his heart stops.
Mike is slumped against the wall, head lolling forward. His shirt is drenched in blood.
"Mike?" He rushes over to him. "Mike? What the- oh god, what happened?"
Mike looks up at him, relief crossing his face as he says "Harvey." Then he winces and sags.
Moving his suit jacket aside, Harvey looks him over. It's hard to tell for certain, (there's so much blood) but it looks like Mike was stabbed. A quick glance around the hallway reveals no attacker, but that does nothing to quell Harvey's rising anxiety.
"Can you stand?" He asks, meeting Mike's eyes again.
"Y-yeah," Mike rasps, weak and unconvincing.
Still, Harvey grabs him by the elbow and starts to help him up.
Mike gasps. "Agh- fuck-"
He leans almost all his weight against Harvey who wraps an arm around his waist. The two of them hobble the few feet back to Harvey's door and stumble inside. By the time they reach the couch, Mike has gone almost completely limp, panting heavily. Harvey lays him down as gently as possible and then sprints to his kitchen. He grabs a towel and is back by Mike's side in seconds.
Kneeling beside the couch, he considers for a moment if he should try to clean the wound first. Quickly deciding against it, he presses the towel into where he assumes the injury is (there's so much blood). Mike writhes and cries out. It terrifies Harvey that the pain must be powerful enough for him to do so without shame. Then, words start tumbling from his lips.
"I'm sorry, I didn't- he- I'm so sorry-" Mike slurs, a gasp cutting him off as Harvey subconsciously increases pressure.
"What? For what?"
He shakes his head as tears start to spill out of his eyes. "The files."
"The files? You mean he took them? The man who-" Harvey can't say it.
Mike nods, looking defeated. Harvey feels a wave of nausea as he realizes who did this and why. He tilts his head, trying to catch Mike's eye, trying to look reassuring.
"It doesn't matter. You hear me? We'll find him and then we'll win the case. Alright? Don't worry about that right now." He grabs one of Mike's hands, giving it a small squeeze and then placing it over the towel. "Keep pressure on that, understand? Don't let up even if it hurts."
Harvey stands and pulls his phone out of his pocket. His hands are bloody now and he struggles to press the correct numbers on the dial pad. The phone only rings twice before a woman answers.
"911. What is your emergency?"
Harvey rattles off his name and address, wiping a bloody hand down his shirt without realizing. "My-" His...? "My- colleague was stabbed outside my apartment. He's lost a lot of blood."
"His name?"
"Mike- Michael Ross."
"Is he still conscious?" The sound of typing.
"Yes, yes he is."
Harvey locks eyes with Mike again. He's breathing loudly, groaning and squirming every few seconds. Then he squeezes his eyes shut and Harvey looks away.
"An ambulance is on its way. Stay on the line, alright?" Her voice is even, commanding. "Did you see it happen? Is the man who attacked him still in the area?"
The mention of the person who did this makes an ice-cold feeling wash over him. He understands it to be fury only as he tries to speak. "No, I wasn't there. And I don't- I don't think he's still here."
A few seconds of typing. "Did Michael see him?"
Harvey presses his lips into a thin line and looks back at Mike. He's still sucking in loud gulps of air, but now he's completely stiff.
"Mike, did- did you see his face?"
Slowly, Mike peels his eyes open. They take a second to find Harvey but never quite seem to focus. Then they close again. He's in no condition to answer. Frustration kills the last of Harvey's patience and he redirects it to the only person he can.
Turning away, he growls into the phone "Look- He's fucking bleeding to death, he can't give a goddamn witness statement. Just get us some fucking help already!"
"Sir, I need you to remain calm-"
"I am perfectly calm." He knew that was a lie.
"You will get help, I just need-"
"So how far away is the ambulance?"
"It's on its way-"
"How soon?"
"I'm not-"
"We're putting pressure on the wound, what else am I supposed to do until they get here?"
"That's good. The paramedics-"
"When will they get here? What am I-"
"Sir, if you let me finish-"
"No, you let me finish! What am I supposed to do if he dies before they get here?"
The operator hesitates and the silence is just long enough to make Harvey realize that Mike has gone silent too.
He spins to see the younger man lying motionless, the hand that was on his wound hanging limply off the side of the couch. Harvey rushes over to him.
"Mike? Mike, open your eyes." He kneels down and grabs Mike's face. "Hey, can you hear me?"
Nothing. The operator says something and he almost misses it with how loud his heartbeat is getting.
"He's unconscious." Harvey says, unsure if he's answering her question.
"Do you know how to check his pulse?"
His hand is already there, feeling the faint beat beneath Mike's increasingly sweaty skin. For an instant, he hesitates to pull his hand away for fear that the beating will stop as soon as he does.
"It's faint. Where is the damn ambulance?" He spits, channeling his mounting agitation into being angry.
"They're only a few minutes out." Not good enough. "Stay on and I'll-"
"Tell them I'll meet them outside." He says, hanging up.
Tossing the phone aside, Harvey reaches under Mike's back and legs. As gently as he can manage, he lifts him up. The movement causes Mike to let out a weak groan. Harvey counts it as a good sign.
Later, Harvey won't remember carrying Mike out the door and down the hall or slamming a bloody hand on the elevator button. But he will never forget the barely audible sound of Mike's labored breathing. Or the feeling of warm blood soaking into his shirt. Years later, he will wake up paralyzed by the same terror that now forces him to move.
The elevator arrives with the same cheery ding it always does and he steps inside. He presses the ground floor button and spams the door close button until they do. Then, he steps back, watching the numbers slowly tick down. He tightens his hold on the body in his arms, tries not to think too deeply about who exactly it is or why he's holding them. He thinks about when he'd seen Mike earlier that evening, can't stop picturing the small smile he'd given as he said goodbye. Harvey might’ve gotten that smile killed.
The instant the doors open, Harvey steps out. His legs feel weak but he forces them into their usual quick, confident stride. He tells himself what he always does. Everything is under control. It will all work out. Then he adds Mike will be fine.
There aren't many people in the lobby but what few there are stare or gasp. The desk attendant calls out but Harvey doesn't even break stride. He shoulders open the glass doors and steps out onto the street. It's mostly empty. Despite the new, fresh air, he finally notices how constricted his lungs are. He tries to suck in a deeper breath but it feels empty.
Looking up and down the street and starting to feel helpless again, Harvey contemplates grabbing a taxi to the hospital. He knows that's stupid. So instead, he focuses on the way his arms are starting to tremble. He tries to stop. Whether it's from strain or fear, he doesn't know. Though he'd be loathe to admit feeling either. Mike is not heavy and Harvey is not weak. Still, his arms shake.
And then, at last, the shrill sound of a siren lets him breathe again. The ambulance screeches around the corner and Harvey takes a few steps in its direction. No sooner has the vehicle come to a stop than its backdoors fly open and two paramedics jump out. Harvey approaches them without really making the conscious choice to. One of them is running up to him with outstretched hands like he's going to take Mike. Harvey just keeps walking.
The medic says something and he thinks he responds. Then they're placing Mike on the stretcher and loading him in the back. Strangely, all Harvey can think about is how small he looks. He climbs into the back of the ambulance with them. The doors slam shut.
He starts to plan all the ways he's going to destroy the motherfucker that did this.
--
When Mike wakes up, it's through a fog of pain and fear. His limbs don't respond right away and he struggles to peel his eyes open. When he manages it, he's greeted with a hospital room. Its dim lights still strain his tired eyes and he groans. A few slow, labored blinks bring the room fully into focus. It's small but nice. Nicer than he can probably afford. It's quiet too. If the darkness outside the window is anything to go by, it's probably late at night.
He sits in silence for a few minutes, trying to reground himself in reality. What even happened? The question brings back a small flurry of memories. He remembers rushing to Harvey's apartment, being pushed against the wall, pain, fear, absolute terror, pain, relief at seeing Harvey... Harvey, who helped him into the apartment, squeezed his hand, stood over him yelling at someone, and then... he's not sure. He thinks, dimly, that he remembers being carried. But the thought slips away, drowned out by another: Harvey saved my life.
To some extent, it isn't even the first time. Harvey rescued him from a dead-end life, gave him a chance to be someone. But this? This is not a metaphorical life-saving moment. It's the real deal. Mike would've died if it wasn't for him. He exhales shakily, feeling every movement in his body with a strange reverence.
Unfortunately, this also means he owes Harvey even more now. He quite literally owes the man his life. It's not a particularly encouraging thought, knowing what Harvey does to people who owe him. In fact, it exhausts him. So, he closes his eyes and falls back into unconsciousness.
--
Sooner or later, everyone comes to understand that Harvey is a truly ruthless agent of revenge. As soon as Mike had been stabilized by hospital staff, he was out the door and calling Jessica. Truthfully, it was really more of a courtesy call. He was letting her know what had happened. And that he would stop at nothing to end the person he knew was responsible.
After he'd told her, she'd been silent for several moments, before saying, in that gracefully terrifying way of hers "Handle it."
"I already am."
That was it. He had permission.
He never needed it.
Unfortunately, what he did need were the files that had been stolen. So he'd returned to the office, at an hour later than he had in years, and began retracing Mike's steps. In some ways, it was easy. He knew the kid. In others, it was painfully hard. What he likes about Mike, what he'd liked from the moment he'd met him, is how good he is at surprising him.
Still, he found that Mike had gotten access to some of Justin's email correspondence. There were several strange messages, probably coded, between him and a low-level employee. Looking into that employee showed he'd only been there a few months. In fact, he started not long after money had begun disappearing. This guy had also gotten out of prison recently and really had no business working in that field. The more he looked into him, the worse this guy looked. But some of what he was finding made Harvey wonder if he could figure out the code they'd used in their emails. So he tried.
Justin was using the money he was embezzling to support a human trafficking ring.
Despite his previous exhaustion, Harvey had felt wide away the moment it clicked. This was why Mike had been so terrified. Justin wasn't just some rich kid who was stealing daddy's money to go skiing in Europe. He was a greedy scumbag who started running with crowds he didn't understand. If they knew he was being investigated, they'd make sure his body was never found. This wasn't just white-collar crime, which explained why Justin would be so desperate to stop them. And chances were Justin had done the dirty work himself that night, trying to stop Mike, trying to hide evidence, trying to intimidate Harvey. Well, it didn't fucking work.
A few more hours, a few (slightly uncharacteristically desperate) phone calls, and Harvey had the files and enough security footage to paint a clear picture. Justin Davis was a criminal and a coward. If he'd been in his right state of mind, Harvey would've called the proper authorities and headed back to the hospital. And he had called. He just also went straight to Justin's apartment, files in hand.
Now, he watches with an unholy delectation as Justin realizes his life is over. This scum, this worthless, bottom-feeding, detestable, little coward of a man thought he could go against Harvey? Hurt Mike? He thought he could stoop that low and get away with it? No. At first, Harvey had wanted him dead. But he had come to realize how he would rather watch him suffer from a slow, meaningless life and then die completely alone. Harvey won, like he always does.
A ball of tension still rests in his chest.
"I'll-I'll destroy you for this." Justin spits, pathetic.
"You already tried. And that is a game you can only play once." Harvey steps closer, lowering his voice to say "When you're lying in your cell at night, you'll have nothing to do but think back on the night you put yourself there. And no matter how hard your scrub at your skin, you won't ever remove the blood that stains it."
Justin steps back, head shaking. "I'm not going to jail."
He reaches down, grabbing a knife from his backpack. He holds it up like a child with a wooden sword. It doesn't scare Harvey, it infuriates him.
"You want to add another attempted murder charge to the list?" Harvey smirks when Justin blanches. "Yeah, Mike's alive. You did a shitty job trying to kill him and you'll do an even shittier job if you try to kill me. This only ends one way for you."
"I can't go to prison." He drops the knife, pale as a ghost. "They'll kill me in there."
"You'd better pray that they do."
Then the police arrive and Harvey leaves as tense as he entered. Now comes the hard part.
When Harvey finally makes it back to the hospital, fingertips buzzing with... something, the nurses tell him Mike has been in and out of consciousness for the past couple of hours. So, Harvey sits in the uncomfortable little chair beside his bed and waits.
For a while, he just looks out the window, watches the light filter between the tree leaves and thinks. Then he works up the courage to look at Mike. His face is tense, even now. Like the pain is haunting him in his sleep. Harvey wonders if he'll ever forgive himself for this. So, he looks away.
It's only a few minutes after he’s caved to pulling out his phone that Mike begins to stir. Harvey remains still, watching as he shifts and breathes out a sigh. Then, in perhaps the longest moment of his life, he watches Mike open his eyes. They're clear, focused. When they land on Harvey, the recognition is instant.
"Harvey." He breathes in, shifting like he's going to sit up. "When did you-"
"Relax," Harvey says.
For once, Mike listens. He's probably too tired to fight anyway.
"We got him."
Mike blinks. "You... got him?"
"Justin. We got him." Harvey sits forward. "I followed your trail and found the evidence you were bringing to me. Not sure I can say just yet how he knew what you uncovered, but that will come out in the trial. Speaking of which, we... we got enough security footage to prove he was the one who..."
"Tried to kill me."
"Tried being the operative word."
Mike looks pained for a moment. "Well, he almost succeeded. And he would've but- Harvey, you saved my life." He pauses. "I mean, I can't- How can I-"
"You can repay me by getting better quickly. We still have a lot of work to do."
They stare at each other for a heavy moment. Harvey has a hard time looking into Mike's sharp, blue eyes. It's like Mike can see right through his laboriously crafted walls. It's like he knows how deeply Harvey... cares for him. It's like he wants to show he cares that much for Harvey too. Then the tension breaks and Mike shakes his head.
"Man, you never change. You're gonna talk about work now? I'm in the hospital, can't you give me like one minute of peace?"
"Consider it payback for all the stress you just put me through. I thought I might need to hire a new pothead."
Mike finally smiles. Harvey finally relaxes.
"You'd never find one as good as me."
"No, no I wouldn't."
Mike's smile grows. Harvey realizes just how much he's willing to do to keep that smile alive.