Taking a leaf out of phoenix on cloud nine's book on this last one. Warning for mentions of bus violence lol

+1 Time Harvey Hugged Mike

Harvey never thought he'd initiate a hug with Mike Ross.

But then again, he also never thought he'd be a lawyer back when he was just an angry kid with familial problems. He never thought he'd go to Harvard until Jessica found him bumming around and squandering away his potential in the mail room. And he certainly never thought he'd have an associate, and much less an associate who was basically an overgrown puppy that had somehow managed to worm his way into Harvey's life.

The day that Harvey hugs Mike is one that neither of them will ever forget. Mike won't forget it because it's such a miracle to him; that Harvey could actually potentially care enough about him to be concerned for his well-being and actually openly express that concern. Harvey, on the other hand, will always remember it for the mind-numbing adrenaline rush of fear he had experienced.

It really all goes back to Mike's bike accident back in late November. It's now almost the end of January and Mike has been cast-free for a few weeks. There are hardly any lingering signs that the accident ever happened— the cut on Mike's forehead hasn't scarred, his ribs have stopped twinging at sudden movements, and his left arm is slowly regaining its strength. All in all, he's moved on and put the incident behind him.

The only thing that's different now is that Mike doesn't have a way to get to work anymore: his beloved bicycle (which he had called 'Carlos' and Harvey had called 'scrap metal') was damaged beyond repair in his accident.

Initially, Mike talks about how he's going to use his Christmas bonus to buy himself a new bike after laying his old one to eternal rest and observing an appropriate period of mourning.

But Harvey, vividly recalling how Mike had described the way that the car had skidded through the snow and ice and had been unable to stop before hitting him, places a strict moratorium on all bike-riding until spring. Of course, this isn't because he is worried about Mike getting hit again or anything. It's just because associates are ridiculously hard to find and train, and in particular associates with eidetic memories. That's all.

Mike thinks this is ludicrous. "I'm almost 30, Harvey," he protests many times. "I think I can manage to ride my bike to work on my own."

"Yes, because that worked out so well for you last time," Harvey usually mutters. It's becoming a daily exchange for them, and both are frustrated by the current system they have going, which is Ray picking Mike and Harvey up for work. The problem with this is that it takes way too long to get from Harvey's apartment to Mike's to Pearson Hardman, and Mike is never ready and that angers Harvey and then they start the day off on the wrong foot.

So one day when they are having their usual morning argument on the matter of The Great Bike Ban of 2013 after arriving at the office 30 minutes late, Harvey decides to do something about the situation, because they're clearly just going in circles right now.

The next day, when Mike is claiming (as always) that he is an adult and he can bike all by himself, Harvey pulls a pre-paid public transit card out of his pocket.

"You know what, Mike?" He says, waving the card in Mike's direction. "Fine. I know you went around telling everyone that it was your half-birthday last week, so here's your 27 ½-year-old birthday present."

"Aww, you shouldn't have," Mike says jokingly.

He takes the plastic card and reads it and his face changes.

"Harvey, I didn't mean that I wanted to take the bus to work. I meant that I wanted to ride my bike," he says firmly. "And I'm 28 ½ actually."

"Could've fooled me. I was thinking more along the lines of 8 ½," Harvey mumbles under his breath while Mike scowls fiercely at him.

"Harvey—" Mike opens his mouth to whine some more.

"Mike," Harvey cuts him off. "Take the damn card. You can either take the bus to work or you can be ready on time when Ray and I stop at your apartment. Those are your choices until spring. No biking," he says.

Mike looks like he's about to pitch a fit or at the very least stomp out of the office and slam the door behind him. But he seems to change his mind as he looks at Harvey. Maybe it's the way that Harvey's got his jaw set as he remembers the phone call he had gotten the morning of Mike's accident two months ago, but something in Harvey's visage makes Mike nod slowly and reach out for the card.

"I'll take the bus," he says with a long-suffering sigh. Harvey nods, satisfied.

"Good boy. Donna looked up some times for you, and it looks like the 7:34 bus is the one you should be taking to make it here by 8. So from now on I want to see you here on time. Or I'll loan you out to Louis until spring. Understood?"

Mike nods fervently at this threat.

And for a few days, all is well. Mike dutifully takes the 7:34 bus to Pearson Hardman every day and he is always on time that way. Harvey hardly knows what to do with his mornings anymore now that he doesn't have to harp on Mike about being late or do his work for him because he's not there.

But then one frigid morning in early February, everything changes.

8:00 rolls around and Mike isn't there with the precedent he was supposed to have researched the previous night. Harvey shrugs it off for the first few minutes of Mike's tardiness— maybe Mike stopped to grab a coffee or to engage in a whimsical snowball fight with a random passerby (it seems like something Mike would do). But when 8:15 and 8:30 roll past, he can't help but feel a slight twinge of concern and anger. Mike better have a good reason for being late or he'll be working with Louis long past spring! He thinks vindictively, rubbing at his temples to get rid of the ringing in his ears that is sure to blossom into a headache later.

But wait…the ringing isn't going away. And it isn't actually coming from his ears. He stands quickly and crosses to the windows of his office. Sirens. Lots and lots of police and ambulance and fire truck sirens a few blocks away. Harvey feels his stomach twist uncomfortably— the noise and the flashing lights are coming from the direction that Mike's bus normally heads in.

But surely whatever catastrophe has happened has nothing to do with Mike. This is New York City, after all. More than 8 million people live here, and literally anything could have happened. Maybe Mike's bus was delayed by whatever chaos was unfurling in the streets below.

He has just managed to convince himself of this when Donna bursts into his office, her face stark white and her eyes wide with horror.

"Harvey," she says, her voice high and terrified. Harvey blanches. He has never heard Donna, the paragon of regal confidence, sound like this. Something is wrong.

"Harvey," she repeats again, her voice growing slightly hysterical.

"Donna," he says, quickly ushering her over to the couch before she collapses. "Donna, what's wrong? Is it your family? Are your parents okay?"

Donna shakes her head, apparently too shaken up to speak. It takes her a minute to regain her composure and Harvey jumps up and begins pacing to give himself something to do.

"Mike," she finally whispers quietly before breaking into tears. Harvey freezes.

"Donna," he says slowly. "What about Mike?"

Donna sniffs. "His bus, Harvey! It's Mike's bus. Norma and I were watching the news in the secretary break room and there was breaking news that his bus was in a really bad accident and they don't know how many survivors there are and there are so many sirens—"

But Harvey isn't listening anymore. He freezes as his familiar, safe world suddenly shifts on its axis around him. He sinks to sit down, vaguely relieved when his body finds the couch instead of toppling to the floor. He stares straight ahead unseeingly.

Mike's bus.

Of course it just had to be Mike's bus.

"—Harvey! Harvey, are you listening to me?! Now's not the time to go into shock." He becomes vaguely aware of the fact that Donna is in front of him and that she's shaking him and speaking in a panicked tone.

Harvey blinks. "It's Mike's bus," he repeats in a wooden voice. Bus crashes are bad. Everyone knows that. Much worse than regular car crashes.

"Well, yes, but we don't know if he was on it, Harvey," Donna attempts to say reassuringly, but her voice quavers unconvincingly.

Harvey pulls his phone out of his pocket and finds Mike's number before pressing 'call' with numb, oddly clumsy fingers.

"He's not answering," Harvey says hollowly after a minute. "Why isn't he answering his phone, Donna?!" Suddenly Harvey finds that he's on his feet and he's talking very loudly.

"Harvey," Donna says quietly. "We need to stay calm. We don't know for certain if Mike was on that bus. And if he was, we don't know if he was hurt or not. All we can do is go down to the intersection where it happened and ask the police if they've seen Mike. Okay?"

Harvey's hands are shaking. He nods and grabs his coat.

"This is my fault," he says, his voice oddly detached. "I should have just let him buy himself a goddamn bike like he wanted. Or I should have made Ray pick him up."

"No, Harvey!" Donna exclaims. "You can't blame yourself. It's snowy and accidents happen. Come on, all we can do now is cross our fingers and hope that Mike and all the other people on the bus are okay."

As Donna flits around her desk gathering her jacket and phone, Harvey clenches his hands into fists and tries to believe that Mike is fine. But wouldn't it just be Mike's awful luck to be in a terrible bus wreck? Who would that ever happen to, besides someone as prone to misfortune as Mike?

And oh god, what if Mike isn't okay?

Harvey tries to remember life before Mike stumbled into that interview with a briefcase full of pot, but he finds it strangely difficult. How had he and Donna made it through all those unbearably long days at Pearson Hardman before Mike showed up, bringing his unfailing tenacity, ridiculous eagerness, and friendly banter into the office?

And what will he do now if that piece of his life is gone? If Mike is gone?

Regret suddenly washes over him as he thinks about all the things he should have said and done. He thinks about things that he might never get to do or say.

But most of all, he thinks about Mike.

Stupid, brilliant Mike.

Harvey has seen the younger man at his best—when Mike's eyes light up as he suddenly finds a connection to something beyond Harvey's comprehension that will save their asses in court, when he negotiates a deal by himself and Harvey can see what a great litigator he will be one day, or when Mike challenges Harvey's morals to force him to be a better lawyer and a better person.

And he has also seen Mike at his worst— Mike clinging to him like a child who needed his older brother's protection in the haunted house, Mike sobbing in the wake of his grandmother's death, Mike high on pain meds— but he thinks nothing less of Mike for this.

He pictures Mike sitting on the bus this morning, eating a pop-tart and chugging coffee (just an average meal in the supremely well-balanced diet of Mike Ross). He would have been listening to some stupid Mike-ish music on his iPod, bobbing his head to the beat and tapping his fingers on his legs. Harvey then visualizes the panicked look that would have overtaken Mike's features when he felt the bus skidding out of control though the intersection. He can almost perfectly imagine the way that Mike's eyes would widen in shock and fear as he realized that he was about to meet his end ironically in much the same way as his parents had.

Harvey feels like he's going to throw up and he realizes dimly that his eyes are a little bit wet.

"Alright, let's go," Donna says, her voice subdued.

Harvey nods and begins walking blindly towards the elevator only to suddenly crash into…Mike?

He freezes and draws back as though he's been slapped. Surely he's seeing things. Because here's Mike, standing here right in front of Harvey. He looks perfectly fine, albeit a bit tired and worn. He's wearing the same suit as he was yesterday and his tie is wrinkled.

Harvey blinks to dispel the image his subconscious mind is obviously projecting to cope with this crisis, but Mike is still standing there when Harvey opens his eyes, smiling inanely at him after righting himself from their minor collision.

Harvey feels his heart sink. Great. Now he's going crazy.

But he hears a clattering noise as Donna drops her purse and phone and steps forward and throws her arms around Mike, who appears to be completely corporeal and very real. Harvey is struggling to wrap his mind around the idea that Mike is somehow alive and well.

He steps a little closer, scrutinizing Mike's face. It all looks in place, but this can't be Mike. Because Mike always has his bangs spiked back and this imposter Mike has his bangs smushed down on his forehead.

But Harvey has to know for certain. So when Donna, weeping profusely, steps away from a rather bewildered Mike, Harvey steps forward and reaches a finger out and pokes at imposter Mike's bangs a bit.

If Mike looked befuddled before, he's downright nonplussed at this point.

"Hi, Harvey," Mike says calmly and slowly, as though trying to talk a nervous horse out of kicking him. "Here are the files you wanted. Are you guys okay? Because Donna seems really upset and you…have you been crying, Harvey? What's going on?"

Harvey just continues to poke at Mike's upper forehead. Finally Mike swats his hand away.

"Yes, yes, I know my hair looks bad right now," Mike says dismissively. "I fell asleep in the filing room last night while I was looking for this precedent and I stayed here at the office overnight. Sorry I'm late, by the way— my phone died in the middle of the night and my alarm didn't go off this morning so I just woke up a few minutes ago. Well, are you going to tell me what's wrong with you guys? Are you going somewhere in your jackets? Is it for coffee? Can you get me a donut while you're out? One with sprinkles, please."

Mike continues to ramble and Harvey feels a relieved smile beginning to creep over his face as the reality that Mike is well and safe and not a victim of a terrible bus crash begins to sink in.

"— do we really have to meet with Ron Thomas this afternoon? Last time he threw a book at my head, remember? Oh," Mike says suddenly in bewilderment. "You've just dropped the files that I worked on all last night all over the place on the floor. Okay. Excellent. Oh. And now you're hugging me…" Mike recites all that is transpiring in a perplexed sort of way before realizing what he is saying. "Wait a second…Harvey, you're…you're hugging me!"

And Harvey is indeed hugging Mike. First he drops the files Mike had handed him to free up his hands and then he wraps his arms around Mike, drawing his associate close. He feels Mike's body rumbling as he talks disbelievingly about the miracle that is taking place ("Harvey Specter is hugging me, Donna!"). And even though Mike smells a little weird since he hasn't been home for almost 2 days, Harvey keeps hugging his protégé, relishing in the fact that Mike is here and he's alive. And sure, Mike might have some pretty bad morning breath right now, but he's got all the time in the world to go home and brush his teeth and shower. Because he's alive and he's fine. And that's what's important.

And it kind of is a miracle. Mike had come so very close to being on that bus this morning— had it not been for extenuating circumstances, he probably would have been there, sitting and eating his pop-tarts and never even knowing what was about to hit him. That thought alone makes him tighten his grip on Mike further, one of his hands fisting the material of Mike's suit jacket. Mike just pats him on the back awkwardly as he hugs Harvey back.

"There, there," Mike says uncomfortably. "Don't worry, Harvey. I'm sure they'll catch whoever it was that kidnapped you and brainwashed you until you had a radical personality change and developed actual human emotions. Hey, are lobotomies reversible, Donna?"

When Harvey finally lets go of Mike to rub at whatever strange liquid substance has gotten in his eyes (he mentions that it's probably allergies causing his eyes to tear and neither Mike or Donna are brave enough to point out that it's February and there's no pollen in the air) Donna proceeds to explain what has happened. Mike is understandably upset— he has made friends with some of the 'regulars' on the 7:34 bus and he's concerned for their welfare.

Harvey calls up Ray and asks him to come pick Mike up (fortunately he trusts Ray with his own life and he's fairly certain that Mike will be able to avoid all serious accidents in Ray's capable hands) so that Mike can go home and shower and change and stop by the hospital and visit any of his friends that might have the misfortune of being injured.

The whole time Mike is gone, Harvey sits at his chair and stares blankly at his work, still recovering from the excitement and commotion of the morning. He can't believe how close his world almost came to changing drastically for the worse. And he knows he should tell Mike all the things that he's been thinking, but he's already hugged Mike at length today and he's not sure if he has the energy for an emotional confession within him. But he figures he can at least do something small to put his feelings in action.

So that's why there's a box of sprinkled donuts sitting at Mike's usual spot on Harvey's couch when the younger man comes back a few hours later, just as Mike had requested earlier before he had known what was going on.

Mike smiles knowingly as he takes a disgustingly large bite of donut, and Harvey knows that Mike gets the message— these donuts are like Harvey's way of saying: "Wow, I'm so glad that you're still alive and I'm sorry that I'm a crappy friend and boss to you but that you're such a good friend to me and you're kind of like my little brother so please take care of yourself and don't die because I like having you around even though I'm too emotionally damaged to admit it."

And maybe someday down the line, Harvey will be at a place in his life where he can actually say these things out loud. But for now, it's much easier to express all of this via silent box-of-donuts communication.

But then again...maybe he shouldn't wait until "someday." After all, this morning had proved that it was impossible to know how many "somedays" were left for any of them.

"I'm glad you're okay."

The words are out of Harvey's mouth before he can overthink saying them.

Mike is staring at him. "Sorry, what did you say?" he asks, his eyes impossibly round.

And Harvey is really tempted to lie and say "What do you mean? I said, 'I had a good day', of course," for about half a second. But then he looks at his associate, who has been through so much in his 28½ years; overcome so many hardships and lost so much. And he thinks that Mike deserves to know the truth: that he has friends out there who still care about him.

"I said, I'm glad you're okay," Harvey repeats before he can stop himself. He winces, realizing that Donna is probably listening to this conversation at her desk and weeping into a handkerchief.

But when he sees the way that Mike's eyes light up, he can't bring himself to regret his choice of words. Mike smiles tentatively and offers Harvey the open box of donuts. Harvey takes one and reflects on the fact that it had been a much easier task than he had thought to share some type of emotion with Mike.

But it's not an easy task keeping Mike alive, that's for sure. The universe seems to be conspiring against Harvey and trying to prevent his associate from reaching his 29th birthday— first the bike accident, then the near-bus accident, and now Mike is choking on a piece of donut.

"That's why you don't eat whole donuts in one bite, Mike," Harvey says in exasperation as he thumps a coughing Mike on the back until he can breathe properly.

Yes, it's not an easy job taking care of Mike Ross, Harvey thinks as he sits down on the couch next to Mike to discuss the merits of sprinkled donuts vs. glazed ones. Work can wait for a little bit.

But it is worth it to have him around.

Yeah, I don't know why the plot suddenly began revolving around donuts at the end there? Clearly I was craving fried desserts at the time of writing this XD but anyway, that's it for this story. Hope you all liked it, I had a great time writing it :D Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it, and Happy Holidays in general to all you all! A lot of people have been asking me about tbah and when I'm going to update it- hopefully soon after the holidays settle down I'll have some more writing time, so stay tuned! :D