Author's Note: A little Mike!whump. I'll have more Harvey-Donna stuff soon. =)
I do not own Suits.
"You look like hell," Harvey said to him after he gave Mike a cursory glance before he looked back down at the report in his lap.
"Thanks," Mike croaked, glowering back at him and he sniffed as if to emphasize his misery. He had spent the last two nights at Pearson Hardman, forced to stick to his desk and continue editing the endless number of briefs that Louis continued to stack on it. Tuesday night was spent researching a case for Harvey that they wound up settling on Wednesday thanks to his keen eye. Since then, the work from Harvey had been minimal at best, so Louis took it upon him to fill in all of his empty hours.
Now that the northern winds of the approaching winter had swept into the city, Mike found the building unrelentingly chilly and was having a difficult time staying warm in his paper thin suit. He woke up Wednesday morning with a nose so stuffed he couldn't even breathe through it and there was a raw, ache of a very sore throat. The lack of a shower meant all he could do about his hair was wet his hand and run it through every morning to try and keep it flat. But each time he had been to the bathroom he winced at his appearance in the mirror. He was looking paler than normal and his dark blonde hair was so spiky it looked like a couple of birds were nesting in it. Harvey had already given him one disapproving stare earlier that day and he got it again as he put the two case files his desk.
"Anything else for me?" Mike asked, trying not to wince at the painful strain of his voice and throat.
"No. Go home. I don't want to see you here until Monday," Harvey replied, still not glancing up from the report he was reading.
Mike wavered on his feet and blinked slowly at him. "What?"
"I said go home. You're clearly sick and I don't need you infecting me or the whole office. Jessica would have my ass if that happened," Harvey said to him, finally deciding to spare him another look, in which he only shook his head.
"I have about a thousand pages of briefs I still need to go through by tomorrow morning for Louis. I can't leave now," Mike said with a laugh, which turned into a coughing fit and he grimaced at the pain in his throat.
Harvey just gave him a look that seemed to say 'See what I mean?' "Just bring the briefs to me all right?"
"You going to shove them off onto Greg for me?" Mike asked as a rather goofy dreamy expression came over him. He imagined Harvey towering over Greg who was shrinking into his chair even as the lawyer set a tower high stack of papers on his desk.
"I don't even want to know what's inspired that look," Harvey said, snapping Mike out of it. The associate cleared his throat in embarrassment, which elicited another wince from him. "Bring them here, because I'm going to do them."
Mike stared. He did not think he could be more surprised than after learning that Louis likes to go to the shooting range and was actually a fair shot. The associate peered at him uncertainly and raised his hand up momentarily as though he were going to check his bosses' forehead, but Harvey leaned away from him. "What?"
"I thought you just said that you'd do my work for me. Did I hear that right?"
Harvey sighed in exasperation and glared. "Yes, you did hear that right. Now bring your damn files to me and go home! You're only stalling yourself from resting here, kid."
"I'm not a kid," Mike replied, but even he noticed the whiny quality of his voice and scurried away before Harvey could laugh at him for it.
Back at his desk, he started pulling the scattered papers of the briefs back together into some semblance of order and stacking them neatly. This took a surprising amount of time as Mike fumbled with the papers, unable to grasp them with fingers that felt thick and clumsy. His head was swimming with sickness and he blinked groggily and slowly, now wanting more than ever to take a nap. He was fairly certain that with or without Harvey's order to go home, he would have eventually come to the point where he could neither stay awake nor focus any longer and would have used the papers as a pillow instead.
He picked up the sizeable stack and trooped back towards Harvey's desk and set it down at the top of his desk. Harvey was still reading the report, but he offered his associate the closest to a smile he could get. "Now, you will go home, eat something wholesome, and get to sleep. I've called Ray to pick you up and if he even sees you so much heading in the direction of your bike, he is instructed to take that damn thing and dump it into a trash compactor. Is that understood?"
"Yes," Mike replied slowly and continued to stare at Harvey.
"Why are you doing my work? Why aren't you just passing it off on some of the other associates?"
"Because this report is all I have to do. I was going to go home for the afternoon and relax but – "
The intercom on Harvey's desk interrupted him. "But he's an obsessive workaholic whose definition of relaxing is continuing to do work. Duh, Mike."
"Donna," Harvey scolded her. She only smiled back at him. "Now get going. Ray's going to be here in ten minutes."
"Alright, I'm leaving. Thanks, Harvey," Mike said, trying to hide a smile that threatened to break out over his face.
Harvey merely waved him away without looking at him, having already returned back to the report he was finishing up.
"You better spend the weekend in bed, Mike, or you won't have just Harvey to contend with when you come back Monday," Donna said, her eyes flashing a promised threat.
He gulped warily at her, which caused him to wince yet again in pain. "I promise to spend the weekend resting," Mike replied.
She looked at him with narrowed eyes and just that instance, her own speaker on her desk crackled. "That's right. Donna, you might want to search him and make sure he gave me all of the files he has due tomorrow."
"That's all of them! I swear," Mike said, holding his hands up and backing away from the scary secretary.
He could see Harvey chuckling at his desk through the glass walls and it carried over the speaker. "The puppy's still afraid of you, Donna. Shouldn't he know better?"
"He does know. That's why he's afraid," Donna replied back to her boss, even as she continued typing up her own report of sorts.
"You didn't see what she did to Kyle when she caught him stealing the cheetos! I don't think his tie made it out of the paper shredder in one piece."
"Pathetic," Harvey said and Donna actually glanced at the intercom with a sinister expression on her face. The associate almost felt sorry for his boss but he would never even think of getting between Donna and her intended target. "She can be mean, but she's hardly something to be scared of. Just don't mess with her and you won't suffer both of our wraths."
"It sounds like Harvey needs another lesson in fear, wouldn't you agree, Mike?"
"I'm staying out of this. Harvey, it was nice working for you. I promise to bring files of paperwork to bury with you at the funeral so you won't be bored in the afterlife," Mike said and walked away.
Just as he was about to turn into the hallway where the associates cubicles were located, he started to feel his nose drip and abruptly cupped it in one hand. It took all of his willpower not to just wipe it with his sleeve – he knew Harvey might actually kill him if he did that even when his shirts were already crappy. The bathroom was nearby and he bee-lined toward it to grab some paper towels not only for now but the ride home.
He snatched a few paper towels and started heading back out the door when he stopped to look at himself in the mirror and he stared. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, making them appear like lanterns in his sunken face and his skin was as pale as a vampire's. He leaned in further and blinked slowly, noticing that his eyes were so bloodshot they were almost completely red. He leaned back with an amused smile on his face as he thought that perhaps Harvey sent him home with the suspicion that he might be transforming into a monster.
I do look pretty ghastly, Mike thought and turned back to head out the door. His head was bowed in exhaustion and just as he reached to open the door it flew open – and smacked him right in the head. He reeled back against the opposite wall, his hand automatically flying up to the sore spot and he clenched his teeth in the hope it might stop his skull from vibrating and his brain sloshing around inside.
"Oh my God, I'm so – Oh, it's you."
Mike cracked his eyes open when he was sure they wouldn't roll around in his skull, only to find Kyle scowling at him from the doorway.
"Watch where you're going, Ross! I thought the Golden Boy of Pearson Hardman would be smarter. And look smarter for that matter," Kyle said, sneering as he surveyed Mike in his wrinkled shirt and pants. "I can't believe Mr. Specter still keeps you around."
"Thanks, Kyle, for the sympathy," Mike snapped back. "You're damn lucky it was me and not Louis or Harvey behind the door."
Kyle drew his mouth into a severe line, suggesting to Mike that the thought had crossed his mind that he could have knocked a partner off his feet, but he didn't say anything and merely continued on into the bathroom.
Mike stumbled out, his hand still attached firmly to his head, partly out of the concern that it might still vibrate, and continued on to his cubicle to grab his things. When he finally felt stable enough, he drew it away and stopped, staring at his hand with wide eyes: blood. The bright red liquid shined innocently at him, but he immediately put his hand back to his head, forgetting that he was clutching several paper towels.
What to do? He really should see how bad the wound was, but he had already left the bathroom and really didn't want to be in there with Kyle still there to make fun of him for being so pathetic, so he continued on to where Harvey's office was. He planned to try to consult Donna without Harvey noticing so that he might skip the lectures on how trouble seemed to follow him and the 'Are you trying to kill yourself to piss me off?' speech. So it was with a jolt of surprise that Mike found Donna's desk empty.
She was never not there! The only time she would leave the desk was to go to the bathroom and he definitely had not run into her on the way back from it, so that must mean….he groaned when he could see into Harvey's office and saw her there standing in front of his desk with her hands on her hips. Mike assumed she was laying down the law in his office and reinforcing her scary nature, but if Harvey's smirk was anything to go by, it was failing. Groaning aloud, Mike braced himself and walked towards the office; Harvey spotted him before he could walk in and had already stood up by the time he opened the door.
"What did you do now?" Harvey's expression softened a little at how miserable and sickly Mike appeared, but only a little.
"It wasn't my fault," Mike said to him, slumping dejectedly as he walked over to the pair of them. "Donna, how bad is it?" He drew his hand away and Donna studied his forehead.
"You're bleeding, but it's difficult to see. It happens to be right there in your hair," she said and he felt her snatch up a paper towel he still clutched loosely to his head and she put it on there. "It's small but it's bleeding pretty good."
"How do you do this to yourself, kid?" Harvey asked, also taking his turn to examine the little cut that oozed enough blood to drip down his forehead. Harvey guided him over to the couch and made him sit down.
"I was about to pack up my things and go home but I needed Kleenex. The paper towels were all I could think of and when I was heading out with what I wanted, Kyle smacked me with the door!" He stiffened when he thought he heard a sound. One sound in particular that he couldn't stand the thought of leaving Harvey's mouth during a time of crisis. "Are you laughing?!"
"Yes you are! It's not that funny," Mike yelled at him. He could feel his blood boiling and the feverish warmth and swimming of his head wasn't making him feel any better. He scowled at his boss. He got up to leave, but both Donna and Harvey laid a hand on his shoulder to set him back down on the couch.
"You can't go anywhere until we stop the bleeding," Donna said to him, peeling the paper towels away again to see if it had stopped, but he felt more drip down almost into his eye. "Harvey, stop teasing him. He's sick and it clearly wasn't his fault."
"I know that! You have to admit, he has the weirdest shit happen to him," Harvey replied. "Should we take him to the hospital?"
"No! I don't want to go to the hospital," Mike said, hoping they might actually pay attention to his two cents if they didn't pay attention to anything else he said.
"That would be a waste of money," Donna replied.
"But you need to stop the bleeding," Harvey said to her. "What if he bled out all over his pillow? That would be disgusting."
"Yes, we do," Donna said and then a strange look came over her face and she smiled. "I think…I think we have a solution, but I don't have any so I'm going to have to look for it."
"Look for what?" Mike asked her but she had already left the office.
Harvey sat back down behind his desk and drew the stack of briefs closer as he prepared to read them, but he started when his phone rang and he dug it out of his back pocket. He glanced at his caller ID and then answered, "Ray. Yes, sorry for the delay, but Mike got a little stalled. He got a cut on his head and it won't stop bleeding. Yes, his lateness is unintentional this time, I assure you. If you could hang around another ten minutes or so, try to, but if not just circle the block."
Silence fell over the room as they awaited Donna's return. Harvey had cracked open the briefs Louis wanted and was starting to read when Mike spoke up, "I really had been getting ready to go home."
"I know, kid. If you feel anywhere near as terrible as you look then you would probably be face-planting in these files right now if I didn't order you back to your apartment."
Mike chuckled this time and he said, "I was just thinking about that when I was gathering them up for you. Am I allowed to sleep with a head wound?"
"I'd prefer you not sleep, since you're still in my office, but there is nothing to suggest you have anything serious, like a concussion. You're just sick and have the worst luck of anyone I've had the displeasure of working with."
"Wow, you know how to stroke a guy's ego," Mike snapped at him, but he stopped when Donna came in and he sat up abruptly. She seemed to be carrying a tube that looked like it would contain toothpaste and he eyed it warily. "What's that?"
"It's super glue, Mike."
"Yes. Don't say it like it's battery acid," she said to him with a severe frown on her face. "My sister's a nurse. Doctors use this all the time for cuts like yours. Now hold still!"
"Is that sanitized?" Mike asked, but he still sat like a gargoyle, recalling all the scary things that Donna could do to him if he didn't listen to her.
"It's super glue! Now, I could understand the concern if this came from Louis' desk but it didn't. There! You're done. It's not bleeding anymore."
"Thanks, Donna. Now, I'm going home."
"You do that."
"Get out of here," Harvey said to him and Mike hurried out of the room to get his stuff. The older lawyer sent Ray a text, telling him his associate was on his way and then he returned back to the brief. Donna had returned to her desk to finish up her own work. They both worked diligently for several minutes when Harvey suddenly spoke aloud, "I don't feel like working much anymore. I'll be here another two hours but I think Kyle is still keen to impress me with his stellar work ethic and reading skills. I think he'd like to do eight hundred pages overnight."
Donna smirked at her computer screen. "You're evil, Harvey." She dropped her voice lower, "And you care!"