The sun had just set and left the city of Manhattan to glow with its artificial lights. In a single apartment that was rather big for someone to live alone, Harvey Specter, best closer in New York, in a simple white undershirt and plaid pajama pants, lay on his bed in the dark. He was on his side, his hair damp from his recent shower and he took a deep breath.

He'd stay home tomorrow. He didn't go to work today and he won't go in again tomorrow. He'll tell Jessica that his fever hasn't gone done, or something along those lines. Just that he was sick and couldn't leave his place. It wasn't a complete lie.

He felt like throwing up. Every time he thought of it, how the image is burned into his head.

And the blood.

All that blood.

Harvey groaned as he brought his knees halfway to his chest as the nausea began to overcome him.

His alarm woke him up at his usual time, a headache presenting itself to him as well. He reached over to turn the alarm off and rolled over onto his back. He stared at the ceiling, yesterday's events passing over him like a wave. He grabbed his pillow, hugged it to his chest and closed his eyes. Drifting off into a deep sleep.

He woke up again a little after twelve o'clock to the buzzing of his cell phone. Headache now nothing more than a dull, residing, pound. He picked up the vibrating mobile and saw that it was Mike calling, he let it buzz. He got up and walked to the bathroom to take a shower. He had the cool water run down his back as his eyes began to sting. He made the water hotter and let it spray on his face.

After drying off and getting into sweatpants and an old Harvard shirt, Harvey walked to the kitchen. The phone began to ring, filling the large room with its shrilling ring, as he pulled out a bowl and some cereal. The message beeped as Mike's voice filled his apartment as he poured the milk.

"Harvey, where the hell are you? You were out yesterday because you were sick or whatever, but today you didn't call in. Why aren't you picking up your damn phones. If Donna knew where you were I wouldn't be freaking out but she doesn't and I know she's worried, too. Even Jessica has no idea where you are, she's assuming you're still sick, but I know she was concerned, too. So Donna gave me your spare key and I'm coming over. I'll be there soon."

The message ended and Harvey stared at the blinking red light.

He finished his cereal, placed the bowl in the sink and ran hot water in it. He walked over to his door and put the chain on, hopefully Mike wouldn't rip it off the wall whenever he decides to burst in here uninvited.

He did feel bad, he never like to make Donna or even Jessica worry about him.

And Mike, well, his panic attacks were of the norm, but he didn't want to worry the kid either.

It's just, he couldn't deal with anyone today.

Not after yesterday.

Now Mike was coming over and is probably going to demand to know what's going on.

How can he tell anyone when he's still trying to get himself to understand it.

Harvey took a seat on the couch and just waited.

Half his mind racing with the thoughts of yesterday and half his brain trying to block it out.

About twenty minutes later he heard the sound of the door unlocking and bang against the chain.

"Harvey?" he heard Mike call out frantically.

"Go away Mike," he mumbled and wondered if the kid could even hear him.

"Harvey, open the door."

"It is open."

Mike let out an angry breath, "Let me in."

"You came to find where I am, I'm here, now go back to work and tell Donna and Jessica that I'm fine."

"I take it you heard my message." Mike tried to squeeze his face a little more into the room so he can see Harvey better. "Harvey, please, what's wrong? Maybe I can help or something." You're acting weird and it's scaring me.

The laugh that Harvey let out told Mike enough. Whatever was wrong it wasn't good. "You can't help."

Harvey got up and walked out of Mike's view.

"Harvey. Harvey!" Mike sighed as he banged his head against the doorframe. "I'm not leaving Harvey."

Mike leaned against the door for about a minute before it was harshly shut in his face.

"Jesus..." he heard the sound of the chain being undone. He waited a second before opening the door.

"You know, you could've taken my face off back there," he said to Harvey's retreating form.

"Harvey..."

Harvey ignored him as he went into his bedroom.

Mike was hesitant. Harvey had let him in, but he still needed to watch where he stepped. This was his boss. He looked around and saw no alcohol around and wasn't sure if that was good or bad, though Harvey didn't seem much of a drinker in general.

Mike followed Harvey to his room, he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Just sitting. Mike studied his face and could see that his eyes were bloodshot.

He took a seat next to Harvey. They sat in a thick silence before Harvey spoke in a small voice.

"My brother is dead."

Mike was taken aback, whether it was because of this news or the fact that Harvey was actually opening up to him.

"I'm so sorry," Mike said. "What...what happened?"

"He slit his wrists."

Mike's mouth hung open for just a second before he snapped it shut.

"Oh, god, Harvey. I-"

"I can still smell the blood." Harvey looked down at his hands. "And feel it. Hot on my hands. Then he got so pale and cold."

"Harvey..."

Mike really didn't know what to do. He wasn't the best at comforting in general, but to comfort Harvey, a man that made it his goal to avoid emotions. Where did he even start?
Mike slowly laid a hand on Harvey's back and rubbed slow and hesitant circles. Harvey squeezed his eyes shut and Mike saw a few tears fall just before the man buried his face in his hands, leaning forward on his knees.

"Hey," Mike said in a quiet voice.

Harvey's shoulders began to shake. Mike wrapped his arm around Harvey and brought him closer, Harvey didn't fight it. When Harvey buried his face into Mike's neck that's when he took the older man into a hug and rocked him. That's how they stayed, Harvey's body shaking with sobs in Mike's arms as he rocked him back and forth.

Harvey's crying died down after a couple of minutes. He sat back and turned away shyly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mike asked.

Harvey shook his head and whipped his eyes.

"Okay, but if you ever need to, just know that I'm here if you need a listening ear."

Harvey nodded.

After Harvey had calmed down and cleaned himself up in the bathroom he told Mike to stay. They ordered Chinese food and watched old episodes of Star Trek. It was a little past nine when Mike felt he should head out. He did have work tomorrow. He grabbed his jacket, bag, and tie which had been discarded earlier.

"Hey," he said as Harvey opened the door. "If you need anything, just call me. Okay?"

A small smile graced Harvey's lips as he patted Mike's back as he exited his place.

"Of course I'll call you. You're my associate."

Mike gave him a smile and headed down the hall.

"Michael." Harvey called after him. Mike turned around. "Thank you."

Mike smiled again. "Anytime Harvey."

Harvey knew Mike was true to his words. And not because he was his associate who he had to cater to his every whim because he was his boss.

It was because Mike was his friend.