Predictably, it's Harvey "emotions make you weak" Specter who taps out first.

Since the beginning, Mike had expected as much. So had everyone else at the firm, once they all found out. Because Harvey didn't do relationships, he hadn't in the past and there was no reason to assume he would change his mind for some kid who came in out of nowhere and turned the place upside down.

Except this kid was different. And once Harvey saw it, so too did everyone else.

But that didn't mean they weren't still taking bets on how long they would last. Even with all the evidence suggesting Mike and Harvey were in it for the long haul, almost everyone in their lives had doubts about whether they'd make it.

"I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?" Mike asks, without even looking up from the case file in his hand.

"This." Harvey replies, gesturing around himself, though Mike still isn't looking. "Us."

And finally, Mike's attention is drawn from whatever captivating legal argument he was formulating in his mind. When his eyes snap up, they lock with Harvey's. Red rimmed and skittish, like he's not sure where to look.

"Are you kidding me with this shit?" Mike asks, sighing heavily. Because he had been expecting some kind of freak out eventually but he didn't think it would come so soon and he didn't think it would feel this awful. "Harvey, we just changed our wills. Two days ago, you were all 'I want you to grow old with you' and now you're telling me that you can't do this anymore?"

"I can't explain it."

"No… no, that's bullshit. You're Harvey God Damn Specter. You've got an answer for everything, so tell me what this is about."

"Look," Harvey snaps, the sad tone of his voice replaced with the famous Specter venom. "I made a mistake. I thought this was what I wanted… But it's not."

"You mean I'm not." Mike challenges, eyes squaring off.

"Yeah." Harvey fires back, standing his ground. "You're not. I thought I was going to be okay with all this domestic shit, but it's not who I am Mike, and you of all people should have known that."

"Domestic shit?" Mike repeats incredulously, "You brought take out home and I'm working on the couch. How domestic is that? Christ, Harvey. You make it sound like we've got 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. Name one thing that's changed since we got married."

"Me." Harvey replies, quietly. The malice of earlier forgotten, and the syllable hangs between them, weighing them down. Mike looks at him, really looks at him and watches his face twist from heartbreak to resolution. He watches as Harvey's mind continues to work, turning and ticking over in his mind, weighing up the risk versus reward. It's always a question of pros versus cons with Harvey, but Mike had always believed he would fall on the pros side more often than not.

Apparently, he was wrong.

It's way too early when Harvey steps off the elevator. He's stressed. He's tired, and he's miserable. If he's being honest with himself, he's been miserable since the day he told Mike to move out. And since that day almost six months ago, he's had maybe a handful of interactions with Mike that haven't left him feeling as though the bottom of his world is falling out from underneath him.

Walking down the corridor toward his office, Harvey sighs heavily and drags his feet just a little. Turning the corner he reminds himself, as he does every morning, not to look in Mike's office to see whether he had come in early too. Because, Harvey reminds himself over and over, it's better this way. It's better if their eyes don't meet across the table during depositions. It's better if they don't stand next to each other at the coffee machine in the kitchen. It's better that they work around each other, not next to each other, not with each other. But most of the time, Harvey can't help sneaking a side-glance as he passes by, like he just can't stop himself.

And sure enough, as his feet carry him past Mike's office on the way to his own, his head turns slightly and he sees him hunched over paperwork at his desk. Harvey doesn't even realize he's stopped walking until Mike looks up and their eyes lock. A questioning eyebrow is all it takes for Harvey to push open the glass door and stride in, faking his confidence and bravado because when it comes to Mike, he's still a little bit of a mess.

Okay, more than a little.

"What are you doing here so early?"

"Working." Mike replies sharply, focusing back on the briefs in front of him.

"You look like shit."

"Thanks, Harvey."

"I'm just stating fact. How long have you been here?"

"I don't know. Since yesterday morning."

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"I have work to do. People expect things from me. I'm not dropping the ball now that I've come this far."

"You need to look after yourself."

"What do you even care, Harvey?"

"I-"

"I don't want to hear it. Just get out, and close the door when you leave."

So Harvey does, because he thinks it's the least he can do. But before he goes, he drops the bagel he'd bought from a street vendor on Mike's desk.

"Eat something. If you keel over and die from hunger, it'll reflect badly on the firm."

And even Mike, in all of his anger and all of his hurt, cracks the smallest of smiles that Harvey misses as he walks out the door.

And so it continues. Harvey gets into work early every morning because he's Harvey Specter and his name is on the door - but more likely because he doesn't have anything keeping him at home and working distracts him from the never ending feeling that he's made the worst decision of his life and there's nothing he can do to fix it. Mike gets into work early every morning because he's still trying to prove himself to the partners, and because working is the only way he knows how to keep going after the catastrophic shift in his life.

Sometimes, when the sun hasn't even come up yet and they're the only two in the office, Harvey can feel Mike's presence down the hall. It comforts him in a way that he's not sure how to express in words, but when Donna comes in early and sees Harvey staring out at the sun rising with a hand leaning against the window, she knows better than to interrupt.

"Morning Greg." Harvey waves to the security guard as he crosses the foyer.

"In early again, Mr Specter? You've been burning the candle at both ends for weeks now. Don't be working too hard, you hear me?"

"Never." Harvey smiles, getting into the elevator.

"Have a good day, sir." Greg waves as the doors close, and Harvey lets out a heavy sigh. When was the last time he had a good day? When was the last time he genuinely felt happy? He didn't know, and that itself was worthy of another dramatic sigh before he composes himself and steps out of the elevator.

The light to Mike's office isn't on, and Harvey can't help but feel relief at the thought that he might be at home looking after himself for once. But that moment of relief is fleeting as he spots the maintenance guy, walking towards the office with his scraping tool in his right hand. Harvey suspects he might know what he's planning on doing, but it doesn't hurt any less when he stops at the door to Mikes office and gets to work scrubbing.

"Hi Tony." Harvey says quietly.

"Oh, Mr Specter." Tony turns towards him; "I didn't see you there."

They both turn to the door as the awkwardness settles between them.

"I uh... I thought I would get in before anyone was here to get this done. I'm sorry, sir."

"It's fine, Tony. Jessica gave you the work order?"

"Yes, sir. Said it was to be done as soon as possible. I'm uh-" He scratches at the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I'm sorry about you and Mr Ross, sir."

"Thanks, Tony." Harvey sighs again, and briefly wonders how many times a day he must do so. "And call me Harvey. It's been almost ten years."

"Wouldn't feel right, sir."

"Suit yourself." Harvey shrugs, and takes one glance at the name on the glass wall before it's scrubbed off and changed forever.

Michael Ross-Specter
Senior Associate

"Have a good day, sir." Tony says, as he turns back to his work and Harvey walks away. Again, he wonders whether he'll ever have a good day.

"The real estate agent called."

Harvey looks up from his desk at the sound of Mike's voice, who has somehow gotten past Donna to be standing in the doorway to his office.

"And?"

"She has someone interested in the Hamptons house."

"Oh. Okay."

"She wants to talk to you about it, but she says you never return her calls."

"I don't." Harvey answers, standing and turning towards the window with his hands in his pockets. Classic Harvey Specter, Mike thinks to himself as he tentatively enters the office. It's amazing, Mike thinks, how quickly things. How just twelve months ago he would have unceremoniously dumped himself on Harvey's couch and demanded they go out for Chinese food, and now he can't even bring himself to walk inside. "I don't want to talk to her." Harvey's voice interrupts Mike's thoughts.

"Why not?"

"I have reasons."

"You're going to have to talk to her eventually."

"No I don't." Harvey responds, petulantly. "It's why people have attorneys, to do all their dirty work for them. Tell her to call my lawyer."

"You know Sarah, she's not just some stranger. She's handled every property you've ever had. She just wants to make sure that you really want to sell it."

"Tell her that I don't care either way."

"How can you not care?"

"It's just a house. It's not important."

"It's a house worth 3.2 million dollars. It is important."

"We said we'd sell everything." Harvey states simply, moving back to his desk. "So sell it. Or keep it. I don't care."

"Keep it?"

"You can have it, if you want. I'll sign it over to you."

"I don't want the Hamptons house, Harvey."

"Why not? You love that place. You told me once it was your favorite place in the world."

"That had nothing to do with the house."

And god damn Mike for saying that, as a rush of emotions and memories flood back to Harvey. The day they bought it, their first weekend there, their first Fourth of July party that was a resounding success and was quickly given the honor of "best Pearson Specter party of all time," and spending countless Saturday afternoons curled up against one another in the swing on the deck, talking about cases and movies and plans and everything.

"If you don't want to keep it," Harvey forces himself to talk, snapping himself out of his head. "Then tell Sarah to sell it. But I don't want to talk about it. I just want it done."

"Yeah, you've made that clear." Mike mutters to himself as he moves towards the door.

"I'm not the one having maintenance scratch part of my history off my office wall." Harvey can't help but snap at him, and he briefly wonders whether Mike will keep walking or whether his words will cut him enough to stay and fight. But he doesn't have much time to think it over before Mike's turned around and stalked toward Harvey with fire behind his eyes and a purpose in his stride. Harvey is caught off guard as Mike slams him into the wall.

"Don't you dare try to make me feel guilty for moving on. You left me, Harvey. You broke my heart. You decided that you couldn't do it anymore and I had to find a way to live with that, and if changing my name helps with that, then you don't get to have an opinion. You did this, Harvey. So stop moping around the corridors like it's your heart that's broken."

"I'm not mop-" Harvey starts, having regained his composure and maneuvered out of Mike's grasp. But he doesn't get far before Mike stops him.

"You are." He states, "Everyone can see it"

Harvey is about to speak when Mike begins again.

"Everyone around here... they all think I left you. They ask me all the time, what happened. Tell me to go back to you. They tell me that I should give you another chance, whatever it is you've done I should forgive you." Mike scoffs as he shoves his hands in his pockets and wanders to the window, staring out at the twinkling lights of New York before speaking again softly. "None of them know that it was me begging you to stay. None of them know that it's me who feels like the world has ended."

"You think I don't feel like that too?" Harvey fires back, finally giving in to the fight that he knows Mike wants to have. He may never have wanted it to be while they're at work, but it's late and there's hardly anyone around and if Mike wants to hash it all out here, then Harvey is willing to do it. If only because it's been simmering barely below the surface for the last six months and maybe if they can get this out there, they'll both start to feel okay. "You think I don't notice that everything has changed? You think I'm not hurting too?"

"You don't hurt. You're Mr 'emotions make you weak.' Isn't that what you always taught me?"

"I can't believe you still think that about me. After everything."

"It's because of everything that I think that about you."

"You know I care about you, right?"

"I don't really know what caring about someone means to you anymore, Harvey. I'm not sure you know either."

"I married you." Harvey says pathetically, like it's some kind of consolation prize to never completely giving his heart away. "Doesn't that tell you anything?"

"More and more lately I've been wondering why that is." Mike sighs heavily, still not looking away from the view. "I think I've finally figured it out, though."

"Figured it out?" Harvey questions, unsure if Mike is really likening their marriage to a complex puzzle that needs to be solved.

"You love the law." Mike answers, as though that somehow explains everything. "Some days I wonder if it's the only thing you've ever really loved. You love that the law is complex and open to interpretation, but you also love that the law is resolute and unwavering. Law is the one true love of your life and I was lucky to come a distant second."

"Even if that were true, it doesn't explain why we got married. And that's what you were trying to figure out, wasn't it?" Harvey responds, fiddling with the chess pieces on his coffee table. He'll tell himself it's because they're not straight and Harvey likes order, but he and Mike both know it's to stop his hands from shaking.

"I wasn't finished." Mike bites back, continuing. "You love the law, but you've spent your whole life being betrayed by it."

"What?"

"Up until a few years ago, according to the law in the city that you love, you were a second rate citizen. And you hated it. Because you had devoted your entire life to the law, and while it in turn made you more money than God, it denied you the same rights that it gave to all those CEO's you made richer and even all the criminals you put in prison. Up until a few years ago, as much as you loved the law, you hated it too."

"So?" Harvey challenges, like a child. Because he knows Mike's telling the truth, and he hates that he can see through him so easily.

"So when the Marriage Equality Act passed, the only thing you could think to do was make a point. Have the biggest, gayest wedding you could imagine to get back at everyone who ever made you feel like you didn't deserve something. You wanted to get married because finally, the law that you spent your life defending and protecting was giving you something in return, and as angry as you had been in the past, you couldn't turn your back on that gift."

"That's all well and good Dr Freud, but it doesn't explain one thing."

"Why you picked me?" Mike guesses.

"Yeah. If all I wanted was to stick it to the man, why did I pick you?"

"Because I was there." And Harvey feels as though he's been sucker punched at the look on Mike's face as he keeps talking. "Because I was there and because I loved you. I was convenient."

Neither of them speaks, and it could be hours that pass but it's probably only minutes. Mike has finally turned back from the window and is staring Harvey down, as though he's challenging him to tell Mike that he's wrong. And Harvey wants to, but he's never been particularly good with these kinds of words. He can always find them in the courtroom, but when it comes to matters of the heart, Harvey can never say what he wants to.

"That's not... that's not true." He finally speaks, moving silently across the office to stand next to Mike, who has once again turned around and is looking down at the cars moving through the lit streets. "Please don't think that's true."

"I can't help it." Mike answers quietly. "I've spent six months trying to work it out. Six months of pushing myself to work harder and better and faster because maybe that's why you left. Maybe I just wasn't enough. And in the beginning I thought if I could just work harder you would notice and you'd come back and everything would be okay. But now I just do it because it's second nature to me. Now I just don't know how to go home every night to nothing and wake up to nothing. I'd just rather be in my office."

"That's... Come on, Mike. You can't live like that." Harvey intentionally ignores Mike's feelings of not being good enough, because that's never been it. But Mike notices that Harvey doesn't mention it, and he's never been one to let him get away with anything.

"Then tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me why. Because I am trying, Harvey. I'm trying so hard to move on because I know that I need to and more than that I want to… but I can't, not without knowing why you left."

"I…I was protecting us." Harvey finally admits, because the wall has come down and he's too tired and too miserable to lie about it anymore. He's been lying for six months and it's just too difficult.

"From what?"

"From each other."

"Harvey," Mike says softly, and he wraps a hand around Harvey's arm and leads them to the couch. It's the most they've touched since that night and neither of them notices that their skin feels like fire where they've connected. But right now, Mike is more interested in talking than appreciating that feeling, and he sits next to Harvey on the expensive leather and coaxes more out of him. "Talk to me. What were you protecting us from?"

"I... I was protecting you from me."

"Why did I need protection from you?"

"Because eventually, you would have realized that as much as I wanted what we had... my work would always come first. That would have hurt you, and I couldn't do that to you."

"Seems kind of a moot point now." Mike mutters, more to himself than Harvey. "Besides, do you really think that I didn't know that going in?"

"What?"

"Harvey, I know you. Better than you know yourself. Of course I knew that work would always come first."

"You knew?"

"We dated for almost three years before we got married, and in that time I saw you put work first more times than I could ever count. I got it. I understood why you did it. I never, in that entire time, took it personally or resented you for it. I can't believe you thought I didn't know."

"Then why did you agree to marry me?"

"Because I loved you in spite of that. I knew that if I ever really needed you, that you would be there. And playing second to something as important as your work here, that was okay. It probably helped that I was here almost as much as you were and that I loved this place almost as much as I loved you. But of course I knew, Harvey."

"I... I thought I was making it easier on us. By getting out sooner."

"Then why didn't you say something before we got married?"

"I guess I didn't realize it until the stakes were higher."

"No, that's not the only reason." Mike pushes further, "You said you were protecting both of us. Why did you need protecting from me?"

"I can't explain it."

"Yes, you can." Mike keeps pushing, press until it hurts. "Tell me."

"No, it's..."

And suddenly, somehow, Mike understands. Maybe it's the look on Harvey's face, the same one he got when he told the story of his parents. Maybe it's that Mike really does know Harvey better than he knows himself. But in that moment, Mike suddenly understands why Harvey left, and his heart drops into his stomach at the realization that he could have said something. He could have prevented this if only Harvey wasn't so stubborn.

"This is about your mom."

Harvey's silence speaks volumes, and Mike presses his fingers into his temple and wills away the headache that has been forming since he stepped into Harvey's office.

"You thought that would happen to us. You didn't want to end up like your dad."

"It wasn't that I thought that would happen to us, Mike. I just... I couldn't take that chance."

"You thought I would cheat on you?"

"No, I just... like I said, I couldn't take the risk. It would have destroyed me."

"And leaving me didn't?" Mike challenges, admittedly scared of the answer.

"Of course it did, but at least I got to walk away never feeling as though I wasn't good enough. I saw what that did to my father, and I wasn't going to let that happen to me."

"But you were fine if I felt like that? You were fine if I felt like I wasn't good enough for you, right?"

"I just... I thought it would be easier."

"You keep saying that, Harvey. But it's not easier. Nothing is easier since you left. I'm miserable. I miss you, all the time. I miss working with you and talking to you and being at home with you and I miss sleeping next to you every night. I miss you so much sometimes I can't even breathe and sometimes when I'm alone in my office and you're alone in yours I can feel you, right there. And I can pretend for a few seconds that my heart isn't broken. I can pretend that any second you're going to walk in and smile at me and ask what time I'll be home. I'm in pain, all the time and it's your fault. But that's not even the worst part. You know what the worst part is?"

"What?"

"That I know you're not happy either. I thought to myself, right at the beginning that seeing you happy would hurt me the most. But I didn't expect how much seeing you unhappy would break me. You're not happy and I'm not happy and we haven't been since we were last together, and all I can think now is why haven't you just stormed into my office and kissed me and told me that you made a mistake? Why haven't you admitted that you still love me and that you were an idiot? Why haven't you told me that I'm good enough, that I'm worth fighting for, that you trust me and want everything that we always talked about and you meant it when you said till death do us part. Why, Harvey?"

"Because I'm scared, alright?" Harvey explodes, having sat on his words while Mike ranted at him. "I'm fucking terrified that I've made a mistake that we can't fix. I'm scared that you'll never forgive me. That you'll never really trust me not to walk out again. I'm god damn scared out of my god damn mind that I'm going to be miserable forever because I let my unfounded paranoia get the better of me and I walked out on the best god damn thing that has ever happened to me, which despite what you think Mike isn't this job. It's you."

"I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you?"

"Of course you are." Harvey softens, the yelling from earlier forgotten in the wake of his confession. "Jesus, Mike. Of course you are. I'm sorry that I let you think otherwise."

"And I'm sorry that I let you think that I would do to you what your mom did to your dad. But I honestly didn't know, Harvey."

"That's on me, not you. That's my fault."

"Seems like this whole mess is your fault then, doesn't it?" Mike smiles softly, genuinely. And even Harvey, though he feels as though he's been through the wringer in the last half hour, can't help but smirk.

"How the tables have turned, rookie."

Mike's smile gets a little bigger, and the change doesn't go unnoticed.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just..." And Mike scratches at the back of his neck the way he does when he's nervous or embarrassed about something. "It's uh, it's been awhile since you called me that. It's nice."

And Harvey returns the smile.

"Where do we go from here?" Harvey asks, hesitantly. As though he suspects the answer but doesn't want confirmation.

"I can't go back to what it was like before."

"I know." He replies, looking defeated. "I know."

"But I love you." Mike starts, and Harvey's heart leaps into his throat with hope. "And you love me. And it seems as though whatever problems we had when we were together, we're even worse being apart."

"So where does that leave us?"

"You need to make a choice. You can have me, Harvey. But if you want me, you've gotta go all in. I'm not doing this again with you in five years when you freak out. If we do this, we're going to do it right. Or we can cut our losses here and try to enjoy the next two weeks."

"What do you mean, try to enjoy the next two weeks?"

"Harvey, if this is it for us... if we're done, then I'm leaving. I thought I could work around you. I thought I could just focus on the job and ignore the fact that you were always there, just down the corridor. But I can't. So if you and I are through, then I'm going to move on. Professionally and personally."

"That's a big ultimatum, you know."

"It's really not. You and I both know that with my reputation, I could get a job at any firm in this city, regardless of whether I went to Harvard or not. I love my job here Harvey, but I love my sanity more. So if leaving this firm is what it takes for me to get my life back, then I'll do it."

"Is that what you want?"

"No, and you know it. I want you. I've always wanted you. From the second I walked into that god damn interview with the briefcase full of weed, I've wanted you. And while we've had our problems in the past and there have been moments that I've felt like I could literally kill you and hide the body so no one would ever find it, I have still always known that when it comes down to it, the thing I want most in my life isn't money or power or senior partnership. It's you."

"And if I say I want you too, where does that leave us?"

"Then we start again. I can't go back to being Mike and Harvey. Not now that I've found out who I am without you. We need to start again, to work out whether this is something that can work."

"So what, you want me to woo you again?"

"Please, you didn't woo me in the first place. You got me to your house under false pretenses, got me drunk and the rest was history. We were both there, Harvey. Don't make it sound like you've ever done anything romantic in your life."

"Hey, I proposed to you. That was romantic."

"You asked if I wanted to sign a contract with you which would heretofore entitle me to full possession and enjoyment of you in perpetuity. That was not romantic, Harvey. It was pragmatism at its finest."

"You laughed."

"Because it was funny. And I loved it, but it wasn't romantic."

"So is that what you want?"

"No. Because that wouldn't be you. I just want," And Mike paused, wondering if he even knew what he wanted. "I want a chance to start fresh with you. Remember how much fun we had in the beginning? When it was all just pizza and TV and beer and sex?"

"Yeah." Harvey smiles, clearly remembering. "So you want to go back to the beginning?"

"Just for a little while. So we can just be Mike, the associate with a huge crush on his boss, and Harvey, the boss with the inappropriate fantasies about his subordinate. I want to be with you, around you, without all this baggage that I've been carrying with me. I want to remember why I fell in love with you so I can forget how much I've tried to hate you for the last six months."

"I think I can do that."

"Okay." Mike agrees, still hesitant. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Nothing." Harvey answers, and he suddenly feels as though he's sixteen and organizing his first real date. "Are you busy? Can I take you to dinner?"

"Sure." Mike smiles easily, "I'd like that."