Fanfic: The Man You Deserve 3a/?
Title- The Man You Deserve (3a/?)
Fandom- Suits
Ship- OMC/Harvey, Harvey/Mike
Rating- PG-15 (is this a thing?)
Genre- angst, drama, hurt/comfort, first-time, slash
Warnings- domestic abuse, scenes leading up to dub/non-con (just leading up to it, not the actual scene, but possibly triggering. Skip itallics to avoid)
Wordcount- 11,200 (6,600 part a)
Disclaimer- I do not own Suits
Chapter Summary- James comes to the office to threaten Harvey, and Harvey has to make a decision about what he's going to do from here on out.
Overall Summary- Harvey is being abused, and Mike will do anything he can to stop it.
A/N- written for a prompt here at suitsmeme: I want to read a story where Harvey is the one in an abusive relationship - it can happen to guys like him too.Can start out emotionally abusive and escalate from there. Who helps him through it? I'd like to see Donna, Mike, and Jessica, but you can include whoever works for your story. Can make it Harvey/Mike in the end, or just friendship.
*** Previous Chapter *** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***
It was their first date. They’d met a few times before at charity events that several law firms in the city attended. He worked for another firm, but they had come together after they found out that they each had a client suing a pharmaceutical company for an issue with the same medication. Harvey was young then, less experienced, and he’d been glad for the opportunity to work with James, who despite being only a few years older was already a well-established civil attorney. They’d hit it off during that case, constantly flirting back and forth. It was no surprise to anyone that they went to dinner together after they won, and Jessica had given Harvey a subtle nod of approval.
It wasn’t anything elaborate. They went to a bar and ate at the counter, sharing a bottle of scotch to celebrate their victory. The conversation flowed easily, and Harvey enjoyed himself. James was easy-going and quick to laugh. He was an amazing lawyer, but he was modest about his ability, and it made Harvey feel like they were equals even though James had more experience. He felt like James respected him, and that was enough that Harvey put aside the cockiness he showed to everyone that doubted him and let James see the man he really was. Young. Idealistic. Eager to learn and better himself. James saw that and seemed to assure Harvey that he could be the one to teach him, teach him everything.
Harvey found himself wishing that the night wouldn’t end. Just as he thought it he raised his eyes to meet James’ and saw a playful smile play on the older man’s lips. His eyes locked with Harvey’s, James lay on hand over Harvey’s wrist where it rested on the bar and leaned into him. Harvey moved closer, a shy smile on his face, and James closed the distance between them and sealed his lips over Harvey’s. It was gentle, sweet. Perfect. Everything Harvey could have wanted. And he was happy.
As James pulled back, the scene shifted. It was their one-year anniversary. One year ago tonight they had sat in this exact place and shared their first kiss. James moved back just enough to look into Harvey’s eyes. He grinned rakishly, and it sent a flutter of uneasy butterflies through Harvey’s stomach.
“Harvey,” he said in a low, seductive tone, “c’mon. Let’s go.” He nodded his head towards the bathroom. Harvey’s smile faltered, though he tried to keep it from falling altogether.
“James,” Harvey objected, struggling to keep his voice from sounding like a whine. “Not here. We’re in public.”
“Makes it all the more fun,” James replied. “Come on.” Harvey looked away, shame and guilt and excitement and a dozen other things he couldn’t name swirling confusingly inside of him. James moved closer, getting in Harvey’s face. “Come on, Harvey. No one’s gonna see. It’s supposed to be exciting. Kinky.” He smirked on the last word.
Harvey frowned at James, and the other man pulled back with a sigh. “Fine. I guess we’re not having any fun tonight.” His tone was flat, and he turned away from Harvey to stare down at the glass in front of him.
“James,” Harvey began, but the other man held up a hand.
“No, no, it’s fine. I don’t care. Really. We can just go home and watch TV or something. Whatever you want, Harvey.” The words seemed kind, but something about the way they were delivered was like a knife of guilt in Harvey’s heart. He didn’t want to disappoint James. He loved James. And James would never make him do anything he really didn’t want to do. He wasn’t that kind of person.
“Okay,” Harvey said weakly. James grinned and grabbed Harvey’s wrist as they stood up from the bar and made their way towards the men’s room.
The bathroom was empty. With one hand on the back of his neck, James pushed Harvey into a stall before stepping in behind him and locking the door. As he turned to face James Harvey spared a second to glance around the stall. There was a plunger by the toilet, dirt in the corners, scraps of paper and a cigarette butt on the floor. He couldn’t help but think that this didn’t feel right. It should be more romantic, more passionate than this. He shouldn’t even be noticing these things.
James grinned at him, and Harvey forced a smile. James pulled him close with the hand still on the back of Harvey’s neck, and they kissed again. Lips parted and tongues tangled. It was rough and eager, and Harvey tried to convince himself that he liked it, tried to get into the mood.
The scene shifted again as they separated. It was five months after their anniversary, in a department store where they’d gone to pick out a new couch. James’ hand bore down on the back of Harvey’s neck while his other held Harvey’s right wrist between them in a vice-like grip.
“James!” Harvey objected, trying to pull away. James was too strong.
“What?” The older man asked, eyes flashing with anger. “Like it’s going to be so bad to get down on your knees for five minutes? You’ve done it before!” He shoved Harvey away from him. In the tight space, Harvey stumbled backwards, tripping over the toilet and falling to the floor, his head striking the wall and his elbow slamming against the toilet seat. He looked up at James from the floor, feeling the burn of tears in his eyes as he lifted a hand to the back of his head.
“You know, sometimes you’re a real bitch,” James snarled, arms crossed over his chest as he glared down at Harvey.
Harvey bowed his head, unable to meet James’ gaze. Bitch. The word had so many meanings. Ungrateful. Unreasonable. Stupid. Weak. Someone who needed to be straightened out. Someone who deserved to be hit. Someone who had no justification for fighting back. Property. Subhuman. Bitch.
There were so many things wrong with this. Harvey knew that, on some level. But a combination of guilt and fear, not only of being beaten but of being alone, too, kept him from even thinking of getting out. There was no getting out. That would end in pain, and even if it didn’t, there was no life for him without James. And the only way to live with James was to give him what he wanted.
“Okay,” Harvey whispered, not looking James in the eye as he pushed himself up from the floor onto his knees. “Whatever you want.”
“That’s my boy,” James said, his voice sounding smug and satisfied as Harvey came to kneel before him.
Harvey flinched when a hand settled heavy on the back of his head. His heart was pounding and his hands were shaking, his vision still blurry with unshed tears. A nauseous feeling rolled in his stomach as James’ other had drew down the zipper of his pants. A mantra of “no no no no no” rang out in his head, but his body didn’t listen as his hands raised and his lips parted. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed it to be over quickly.
Harvey’s eyes snapped open in the darkness of the room. His breath was coming in shaky gasps, his body trembling and damp with cold sweat. He sat up abruptly and stared into the blackness around him for a moment before lifting his hands to cradle his head, as if that would somehow block out the memories. He felt hot tears at the corners of his eyes as he squeezed them shut, and couldn’t stop the soft whimpers that came as his throat constricted when he tried to breathe.
Then he felt a hand on his arm. Instinctively Harvey flinched away from it, a small cry of alarm falling from his lips. Heart racing, he drew his arms up to ward off the unseen attack. It never came. There was the sound of movement, and then he blinked in a sudden light.
As his vision cleared, Harvey raised his eyes to see who was in the room with him. He saw Mike standing next to the lamp by the couch, eyes wide in an expression of mixed panic and concern. It took a moment to process what he was seeing, and as the events of the previous night came back to him Harvey’s breathing began to slow. He was at Mike’s apartment. He was clear across the city from James. He was safe.
“Harvey?” Mike asked, slowly, cautiously, like he was afraid something bad would happen if he spoke.
Harvey took a deep breath and let it out shakily. He swallowed and licked his lips, wetting his dry mouth. And he lied: “I’m fine.”
Mike gave him a look of clear disbelief, and Harvey bowed his head, avoiding Mike’s gaze. He wondered why he had even bothered to say that. It was obvious, so obvious, that it was a lie. Of course Mike would see that, of course he would know what Harvey had been dreaming about. Of course he would know Harvey was not fine. But he had told the lie so many times, both to others and to himself, out of fear and in some deluded effort to make it true. It was second nature to lie about this. He did it as easily as breathing.
“Okay, Harvey,” Mike murmured. He didn’t qualify it with anything. There was no “You don’t have to talk about it,” no “I’m here if you want to talk about it.” He just let Harvey say what he wanted, and didn’t push in any direction. And for that Harvey was grateful. He wanted it mentioned as little as possible.
Mike didn’t go back to his bed. Instead he remained standing by the lamp, watching Harvey, like he was trying to gauge just how far from “fine” he was. Harvey tried to ignore him. He knew he couldn’t go back to sleep after the dream he’d had. He didn’t even want to pretend to sleep. But he didn’t want to talk about it either.
Slowly Harvey pulled his knees up to his chest on the couch and wrapped his arms around them. He could almost feel James’ hand on the back of his head, and he thought he could feel the sting of a bruise where his head had hit the wall in the dream. If he closed his eyes he could still see James’ hand on the zipper of his jeans. There was no sleeping with that in his head.
Harvey felt the couch dip, and looked up to see that Mike had sat on the other end, as far from Harvey as he could be while still sitting on the same couch. Harvey watched him with mild interest, wondering what was going through Mike’s head, what Mike thought about what he’d seen. It was one thing for him to know that Harvey had been abused. It was quite another for him to see Harvey wake from nightmares with tears in his eyes. He wondered if Mike had lost respect for him, and was certain that he must have, but at that moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt somehow empty and yet filled with pain at the same time. He wished he could shut himself down somehow, block everything out and stop hurting, stop feeling anything.
With a spark of grey static and a sudden burst of sound, the television in front of the couch came to life. Harvey looked over at Mike again, and found the younger man staring resolutely at the television screen, seemingly engrossed by a car commercial. Harvey wanted to tell Mike that he didn’t have to stay up with him, that Harvey would be fine on his own. But he was glad for the company. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t want to be alone either. He was glad that Mike seemed to understand that without Harvey having to say anything.
Harvey looked away from Mike, turning his eyes to the television as a woman with perfect white teeth in a big grin came onto the screen and talked about how amazing her new vacuum was. Then the show came back on. It was a made for TV movie he’d never heard of before, some spy thriller with horrible dialogue. Harvey didn’t pay much attention to it. He didn’t need to. Just letting the sounds and colors wash over his senses was enough. It was enough to push back the memory of James’ voice, James’ touch. It was enough to draw his mind back from the dark place it had sunken into. As he watched the movie, Harvey felt the tension slowly fade from his body. He let go of his legs clutched against his chest and let them fall to the ground, leaning back against the couch with a sigh.
Harvey didn’t know how long the movie was. Probably at least an hour and a half, from the time Mike turned the TV on. All he knew was that by the time it was over he’d succeeded in pushing back the memories that had threatened to overwhelm him. He was comfortably numb, and exhaustion was starting to take its toll. He was ready to try to sleep again.
After the movie went off, Mike stood with a groan and stretched his arms above his head. Harvey watched him from the corner of his eye. “I’m gonna go to bed,” Mike told him softly.
“Alright,” Harvey said. He thought his voice sounded hollow and cold. “I’ll go too.”
Mike nodded slowly. As Harvey lay back on the couch, pulling the blankets over himself, Mike turned off the TV, then the lamp, and the room was dark once more. A tiny thrill of fear ran through Harvey, but he ignored it. The darkness couldn’t hurt him.
Harvey closed his eyes against the darkness and let out a shaky sigh, telling himself that he was being ridiculous. Seconds later, however, when he opened his eyes he found that the room wasn’t quite so dark. A small light in the kitchen had been turned on. Harvey blinked in the semidarkness. He wondered if Mike thought he was so weak as to need a night light, and felt a sudden bolt of annoyance at the thought. He wasn’t a child, and the darkness wasn’t what he was afraid of.
“I don’t need the light,” Harvey said as Mike came back to his bed. He could hear the irritation in his voice, and wondered for a moment at his own lack of gratitude. Then he crushed that little voice. To call himself ungrateful sounded too much like James.
“Of course not,” Mike said simply. “I get scared of the dark sometimes. I like to sleep with the light on, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”
Harvey arched an eyebrow, and Mike shot him a glare and crossed his arms, looking every inch the petulant child told he was too old for a night light. Harvey had the sudden urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. They both knew what Mike was doing. There was no secret. But at the same time it also seemed incredibly silly to argue when Mike was saying that he’d left the light on for his own sake.
“Fine,” Harvey said at last. “Keep your night light.” He lay back on the couch and turned away without waiting for a response. None came. He heard the rustle of sheets as Mike lay down and got comfortable. Harvey listened as Mike’s breaths slowly evened out with sleep. He wondered if Mike was a light sleeper, or if Harvey had been screaming in his dream. He didn’t know if he talked in his sleep. Certainly James had never told him if he did.
Harvey rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. In the soft light coming from the kitchen, he could see the stains and water damage. The light wasn’t so bright that it would keep him from sleeping. Just light enough that he could tell what the grey shapes around him were. Being able to see made the new environment seem less strange and threatening. Harvey would never admit to being scared of the dark. But having the light on did make him feel a bit better. He would never have thought it was something that would really help him, but it did, and Mike had known that somehow and been able to give Harvey what he needed while also sparing his pride.
Harvey stared at the ceiling above him, absentmindedly picking out shapes in the dark water stains. He felt tired, and his mind was sufficiently numb and empty from watching the shows on Mike’s TV. It felt safe to sleep. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he wouldn’t have nightmares if he fell asleep. Harvey sighed softly in the darkened room. He closed his eyes and let sleep take him once more.
Harvey woke the next morning to the sunlight streaming through the window and the smell of scrambled eggs. He could hear the clink of pans and plates in the kitchen as Mike cooked, but had no desire to get up and join him just yet. Instead Harvey lay on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, taking in the same water stains he’d seen the previous night. The nightmares had not returned. He had been able to sleep soundly, if only for a few hours, and he felt more rested than he had in a while. All the same, he still didn’t want to get up.
Harvey felt his stomach growl, but he ignored it as he tried to process what had happened last night. Mike had reached out to him, tried to help him. And Harvey had taken him up on it. He’d spent the night at Mike’s apartment. He felt safe here, or at least, safer than he’d felt anywhere since the abuse had started. But he knew that it was only temporary. It was just for one night. And after get got up, after he went to work, when it was time to leave the office again… Then what?
Staying one night with Mike didn’t make his problems disappear. It didn’t mean that James would stop calling and harassing him. It didn’t mean he had any permanent alternative to going back to James. The only thing that was really different this morning than the previous one was that he knew, undeniably, that somewhere in the city James was waking up wondering where he’d been last night, intent upon finding him and making him too afraid to ever think of leaving again.
“Morning,” Mike’s voice greeted. Harvey turned his head in Mike’s direction without getting up. Mike was standing on the other side of the coffee table, watching Harvey with a cautious smile. He was still wearing the boxers and oversized T-shirt he’d slept in. In his hands was a plate of food, which he set on the coffee table next to Harvey. “I’m gonna go get dressed. We’ve got about forty-five minutes until we need to leave.”
“Okay,” Harvey sighed, running a hand over his eyes. He made no move to get up, however. He didn’t want to let the blanket fall from his body while Mike was in the room. He didn’t want Mike to see the bruises. But then he realized with a sinking feeling that Mike may have already seen them when Harvey woke it the middle of the night. He looked up at Mike, watching as he grabbed a suit from a small closet and went into the bathroom to change, wondering whether or not Mike had seen. He probably wouldn’t have said anything if he had.
As soon as the bathroom door closed behind Mike, Harvey pushed the blanket off and started to get dressed. He only had the suit from the previous day to put on, but it was better than nothing. He knew that none of Mike’s suits would fit him, and even with a spare in the office he wouldn’t want to go in wearing casual clothes. Putting on a suit had become something of a ritual for him. It was a summoning of will, a fortification of emotional walls. Just having it on made him feel stronger somehow. No other clothes would have that affect.
Mike came out of the bathroom just as Harvey was buttoning his jacket. He turned to face Mike, trying to read the younger man’s expression. It was more difficult than he would have expected. Was it pity he was seeing? That was expected, if not exactly appreciated. But he wasn’t sure pity was the right word.
“How are you feeling?” Mike asked slowly.
It was a loaded question. Was Mike specifically referencing the nightmare from the previous night? Harvey wasn’t scared now, but he knew he would probably have another one tonight as well. It had been going on for a long time, and he knew from experience that it took a long time to stop. Did Mike mean it more generally? There were many ways to answer. How was he feeling physically? Harvey could still feel all of the bruises, and the shoulder he’d wrenched in a fight a few days earlier had been aggravated by the hard couch. Mentally? Sane, he supposed, though he probably wasn't the best judge of his own mental state. Emotionally? Fuck if he knew. It was all too complicated. Hope and despair warred within him, thrown into chaos by anger, shame, and a dozen other things. Confusion was one. Uncertainty. He didn’t know what he was going to do. He knew he didn’t want to go back to James, and he knew there were people who wanted to help. But he didn’t know if those people could do enough to make it worth it to stay away. And just how much of that was he supposed to tell Mike to answer the question?
“Hard to say,” Harvey said honestly. His tone sounded bitter and resigned to his own ears.
Mike bit his lip and didn’t speak. Harvey could tell that Mike wanted to say something comforting. He wanted to say something that would erase the pain, make everything better. He just wasn’t sure what that was, and he was terrified of saying the wrong thing and making everything worse. But Harvey could see it in his eyes that he truly, whole-heartedly wanted to help. That was worth more than any words, however well-chosen.
Finally Mike looked away. He fidgeted with his shirt sleeve, then raised his wrist and glanced at his watch. He made a face when he saw the time. “Got to eat fast. We’ve got about ten minutes before we need to leave.”
Harvey nodded and sat down to his breakfast. Mike sat next to him with his own plate, though not close enough that their legs or shoulders were in any danger of touching. Harvey noticed that Mike had made the same thing for both of them: an omelet with cheese and peppers. He watched for a moment as Mike wolfed down his food. He didn’t feel very hungry himself. When he caught Mike glancing up at him, however, Harvey picked up his fork and started eating.
When they were both done, Mike found Harvey an unopened toothbrush to use. It was a plain white toothbrush with soft plastic on the handle the color of minty toothpaste. Back at his condo, Harvey had an expensive electric toothbrush. The manual one felt strange, Harvey mused as he brushed his teeth. When he was done, he instinctively began washing it out, only to stop with the toothbrush under the stream of water. Should he even bother washing it? Should he throw it away? Mike wouldn’t use it again, and Harvey probably wouldn’t be coming back. Harvey knew that, but he still washed the toothbrush out and put it in the glass by the sink along with Mike’s red one.
Harvey stood there for a moment, staring at the cup with the toothbrushes in it. When he and James had first moved in together, James had teased him about having a manual toothbrush. He had gotten Harvey an electric one as a gift, and their two brushes had stood on chargers in the bathroom, side by side but clinically separate. Harvey had thrown the gifted one away, but since then he’d always bought electric toothbrushes for himself. There was something strangely quaint about two manual toothbrushes standing in a cup together.
Harvey shook his head. He didn’t know what he was thinking. He didn’t know why he hadn’t just thrown the toothbrush away. Somehow doing so just didn’t feel right. With one last glance at the cup he turned and left the bathroom.
Mike was standing in the middle of the room, his bike helmet in his hands but the bike itself still hanging up on the wall. Harvey saw the problem immediately. They couldn’t both ride on the bike. “I can call a cab for both of us,” Harvey suggested.
“Or you could just call Ray,” Mike replied. Harvey frowned. Ray had told him that he had gotten in an accident, and he was sure he’d told Mike that. Harvey watched as Mike fumbled with the strap of his helmet, refusing to meet Harvey’s eyes. He suspected he knew why Mike was still suggesting it. Harvey called Ray from Mike’s phone, not wanting to turn his own on and see the slew of angry text messages and voice mails James had probably left on it. Ray seemed almost eager to pick them up when Harvey told him it was from a different address than usual. Nothing was said about the supposed accident.
Harvey told Mike that Ray was coming. Mike went to where his bike was hanging and put the helmet up next to it, obviously not planning on taking the bike with him for that night. Harvey wondered if he was planning to take a cab home after work, or if he thought he’d be convincing Harvey to come back with him again and be riding with Ray in the town car. Harvey thought that Mike was expecting too much. Even he didn’t know what he was going to do that night.
The two of them went down to the sidewalk to wait, passing the unit lock, the floor lock, and the building lock just as they had on the way in. Harvey wondered how it was that these three old locks in Mike’s apartment building had made him feel safer than his own condo, with its state-of-the-art electronic security measures.
Ray pulled up seconds after they stepped out of the building. Harvey looked over the town car, its sleek paint job untouched. “Huh. It doesn’t look like it got in a five car pile-up,” Harvey observed. He saw Ray and Mike exchange a nervous glance, and his suspicions were confirmed. Harvey managed a small, grim smile, to show them that he wasn’t angry. He knew they were only trying to help. He just wasn’t sure how much good it would do.
Harvey got in the car without saying anything, and Mike quickly climbed in beside him. Ray started it up and they drove off. Harvey looked out the window, watching Mike’s neighborhood slide by in the harsh light of day. It looked less dangerous now, without the shadows, but he could also see the litter and disrepair more clearly. Harvey tried to focus on what was on the other side of the glass, not what they were driving towards. The closer they got to the office, the closer they got to the time when he would have to leave the office. The time when he would have to make a decision that could affect the rest of his life. He knew what he wanted to choose. He just didn’t know if he was strong enough to do it.
Donna was always at the office almost half an hour before employees were required to arrive. Normally, she enjoyed using the time to leisurely drink coffee and check emails in preparation for the work day. Today, though, there was nothing leisurely about her morning. She knew that Harvey came to the office early when he was with James, and she was worried when he wasn’t there when she arrived. She tried to tell herself that he wouldn’t have come in too early, not wanting to arouse suspicion, but she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe there was something keeping him from being there. She knew that Mike had been planning to talk to Harvey, and could only hope that Harvey wasn’t in because he was somewhere safe, somewhere he wouldn’t need to run from.
Donna told herself that Harvey must be with Mike, but that did nothing to stop her from worrying. She tried to go along with her morning routine but found herself constantly stopping to check the time, growing more and more anxious with each minute that passed when Harvey didn’t show up. The other secretaries and associates began to trickle in, then the partners. Donna checked the time again. There were still a few minutes before the official start of the work day, but she couldn’t bear to wait any more.
Donna tried to call Harvey, trying to breathe evenly as the sound of her pounding heart and the ringtone of the phone sounded in her ears. After a few rings it went to voicemail. Donna hung up and stared down at her phone, feeling panic rising inside of her. Harvey never had his phone off. Not ever. He knew that he needed to be available to his clients at all times. He would only have it off if something were truly wrong.
Donna scrolled through her long list of contacts until she settled on Mike’s name. She had to know if he had managed to convince Harvey to leave James last night or not. If he had, then all was well and she could stop worrying. If not… She didn’t want to think about what it meant.
Donna was just about to push the button to dial Mike’s number when the elevator door slid open and Harvey and Mike walked out. Donna rose from her chair, wanting to run to them and make certain Harvey was okay but knowing that he would not thank her for making a scene in the office. Instead she stood behind her desk, watching with wide, anxious eyes as they approached. Harvey greeted her casually, seeming to ignore her obvious concern as if the day were like any other, and went into his office. Donna watched through the glass as he sat down behind his desk, then immediately turned back to Mike.
“Well?” she asked eagerly. “How did it go?”
“I got him out of there for the night, at least,” Mike replied. His tone was bitter, his expression grim and somewhat haunted. Donna knew he must have a better picture now of how bad the abuse was. She knew from experience that just being aware that someone had been abused in no way prepared someone for seeing the actual effects of that abuse. She remembered the first time she had really understood, when Harvey had broken down and told her some of the things James had done to him. She could clearly remember the waves of cold fury, the nauseous feeling in her stomach like she’d been punched. She knew Mike must be feeling that too now.
“For the night?” Donna repeated. Mike nodded.
“I couldn’t do anything else. He didn’t want to listen to anything I was saying. So I told him, just for one night. Come with me for one night, no pressure. You can decide tomorrow where you want to go from there. And Donna… I don’t know what he’s going to do now.”
“We can’t let him go back,” Donna said quickly. “It’s even more dangerous now. James will be furious that he was gone last night. I… Mike, you don’t know what that man’s capable of.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” he said darkly.
“No,” Donne replied. “You don’t. Trust me, you haven’t seen anything yet.” She saw Mike gulp, and knew he must be wondering just how much worse it could get. What he didn’t understand was that it took more than one night for Harvey to allow someone inside the walls he’d built around himself. It took more than one night for him to let someone see just how much he’d been hurt. Donna wasn’t lying. Mike hadn’t seen anything yet.
“So what do we do?” Mike asked, his voice somewhat unsteady.
Donna watched him for a moment. She knew he wanted the help, and she could see how frustrated he was at not knowing how to do that. It was a feeling she knew well. “I honestly don’t know,” she admitted.
Donna turned away from Mike, running a hand through her hair. “I wish I knew what’s keeping him there!” she muttered angrily. That was the real problem. She didn’t understand why Harvey wanted to stay. In the other times she and Jessica had had to fight to get Harvey to leave, it had been because he believed James when he said he wouldn’t hit Harvey again, or because he was afraid of what James would do to him if he tried to leave. But he had left James three times already. Surely that meant James was incapable of carrying out on those death threats he made? Surely Harvey would be able to leave safely? But Donna wasn’t sure she believed that herself. Deep down she couldn’t help but think that James had known each of those times that he could get Harvey back, and that if he really, truly believed he would lose Harvey, he might be capable of anything.
“He wants to leave,” Mike said. “I think he’s just afraid of what will happen. He thinks that James will keep coming around after he’s got his life back on track, and he’ll never really be free.”
Donna nodded slowly. “Then we’ll just have to convince him he can be. That we’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe, for as long as it takes.”
“That might be years,” Mike pointed out. “This James sounds like the kind of guy that doesn’t give up easily.”
“I’ll wait,” Donna replied stubbornly. “If it means keeping Harvey from going back to him again, I’ll stand between him and James until the end of time.” Her eyes locked with Mike’s and she held his gaze. She meant every word. She wasn’t afraid of James, not like Harvey was. Nothing he could do could ever hurt her as much as it could hurt Harvey.
Mike nodded. “Now we just have to convince him of that.” He looked over Donna’s shoulder into Harvey’s office. She nodded, jaw clenched. She and Jessica had failed to notice the abuse when it first started, and had failed to notice when the harassment started this time around. Unless they could prove to Harvey that they meant what they said, he had no reason to trust them to keep him safe. She would never forgive herself for failing him before, but she would do everything in her power to help him now.
Donna turned at the sound of the door opening behind her. Harvey was leaning out of his office, watching them with a slightly annoyed expression. “Don’t you both have work to do?” he asked, as if he didn’t know what they were talking about, as if he were any other boss telling his employees to stop gossiping. “If not, I’m sure I can find you some.”
Donna frowned and crossed her arms, remembering how Harvey had fought yesterday to keep Donna and Jessica’s words from affecting him. She could understand that he was afraid to leave. But she couldn’t understand why he would want to keep them from helping him.
From the corner of her eye Donna saw Mike open his mouth like he was going to object, then stop and bite his lip. He had a pained look in his eyes, and glancing between them Donna got the impression that more was passing between Harvey and Mike than she understood. Mike gulped and lowered his gaze. He nodded quickly, then turned and left. Donna watched him go for a moment before turning back to Harvey. They stared at one another, a battle of wills much like the previous day. Harvey didn’t back down this time. Instead Donna was the one to bow her head and sit back at her desk. She took it as a good sign. Yesterday, Harvey had seemed too tired to fight. Today he wasn’t. He was stronger. Strong enough, maybe, to make the decision he needed to.
Donna went back to work. She fielded calls, sent messages, and tried to lose herself in the normalcy of it. Harvey and Mike went to meet with a client, and when they returned they went their separate ways without saying anything unrelated to work. Around noon Harvey called Donna into his office to give her something that needed to be photocopied. He mentioned something offhandedly about hearing that Norma would be taking a day off to visit a sister who had given birth, and warned her with a smile that Louis might try to poach her from him again.
“Don’t worry about him,” Donna replied. “I wouldn’t leave you. You can always rely on me.” She looked him in the eye when she said it. Even though she was smiling like it was a joke and her tone was light, she knew he understood what she was trying to say. He nodded slowly, and she nodded in return. Without any more words, she took the papers and went to make copies.
Donna found a line in the copy room, and stood back to wait for the other secretaries to be done. As she waited, she contemplated the sum of her interactions with Harvey for the day. He was doing better, she thought. It was quite impressive, actually. In the past, she and Jessica had been unable to remove him from James until things became so bad he was truly in danger of dying if he stayed. But Mike had been able to get convince Harvey to leave on his own, at least for the night, and he seemed to already be part way into the healing process. Not far, of course, but on it. In the past it hadn’t been until days after he’d left that Harvey could even look someone in the eye. Whatever Mike had said to him had worked. Donna hoped it meant that Harvey would be able to leave on his own this time, before it got any worse.
The other secretaries finished, and Donna made her copies. She flipped through them absently as she returned to Harvey’s office, thinking to herself what she and Mike and Jessica might say to Harvey that night to convince him to not go back to James- to never go back to James.
As Donna neared Harvey’s office, she looked up from the papers. Her heart skipped a beat at what she saw: Harvey, rigid with fear as he stood before the elevators like he was waiting, and at his side, with one hand on the back of his neck, James.
*** Previous Chapter *** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***
Fandom- Suits
Ship- OMC/Harvey, Harvey/Mike
Rating- PG-15 (is this a thing?)
Genre- angst, drama, hurt/comfort, first-time, slash
Warnings- domestic abuse, scenes leading up to dub/non-con (just leading up to it, not the actual scene, but possibly triggering. Skip itallics to avoid)
Wordcount- 11,200 (6,600 part a)
Disclaimer- I do not own Suits
Chapter Summary- James comes to the office to threaten Harvey, and Harvey has to make a decision about what he's going to do from here on out.
Overall Summary- Harvey is being abused, and Mike will do anything he can to stop it.
A/N- written for a prompt here at suitsmeme: I want to read a story where Harvey is the one in an abusive relationship - it can happen to guys like him too.Can start out emotionally abusive and escalate from there. Who helps him through it? I'd like to see Donna, Mike, and Jessica, but you can include whoever works for your story. Can make it Harvey/Mike in the end, or just friendship.
*** Previous Chapter *** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***
It was their first date. They’d met a few times before at charity events that several law firms in the city attended. He worked for another firm, but they had come together after they found out that they each had a client suing a pharmaceutical company for an issue with the same medication. Harvey was young then, less experienced, and he’d been glad for the opportunity to work with James, who despite being only a few years older was already a well-established civil attorney. They’d hit it off during that case, constantly flirting back and forth. It was no surprise to anyone that they went to dinner together after they won, and Jessica had given Harvey a subtle nod of approval.
It wasn’t anything elaborate. They went to a bar and ate at the counter, sharing a bottle of scotch to celebrate their victory. The conversation flowed easily, and Harvey enjoyed himself. James was easy-going and quick to laugh. He was an amazing lawyer, but he was modest about his ability, and it made Harvey feel like they were equals even though James had more experience. He felt like James respected him, and that was enough that Harvey put aside the cockiness he showed to everyone that doubted him and let James see the man he really was. Young. Idealistic. Eager to learn and better himself. James saw that and seemed to assure Harvey that he could be the one to teach him, teach him everything.
Harvey found himself wishing that the night wouldn’t end. Just as he thought it he raised his eyes to meet James’ and saw a playful smile play on the older man’s lips. His eyes locked with Harvey’s, James lay on hand over Harvey’s wrist where it rested on the bar and leaned into him. Harvey moved closer, a shy smile on his face, and James closed the distance between them and sealed his lips over Harvey’s. It was gentle, sweet. Perfect. Everything Harvey could have wanted. And he was happy.
As James pulled back, the scene shifted. It was their one-year anniversary. One year ago tonight they had sat in this exact place and shared their first kiss. James moved back just enough to look into Harvey’s eyes. He grinned rakishly, and it sent a flutter of uneasy butterflies through Harvey’s stomach.
“Harvey,” he said in a low, seductive tone, “c’mon. Let’s go.” He nodded his head towards the bathroom. Harvey’s smile faltered, though he tried to keep it from falling altogether.
“James,” Harvey objected, struggling to keep his voice from sounding like a whine. “Not here. We’re in public.”
“Makes it all the more fun,” James replied. “Come on.” Harvey looked away, shame and guilt and excitement and a dozen other things he couldn’t name swirling confusingly inside of him. James moved closer, getting in Harvey’s face. “Come on, Harvey. No one’s gonna see. It’s supposed to be exciting. Kinky.” He smirked on the last word.
Harvey frowned at James, and the other man pulled back with a sigh. “Fine. I guess we’re not having any fun tonight.” His tone was flat, and he turned away from Harvey to stare down at the glass in front of him.
“James,” Harvey began, but the other man held up a hand.
“No, no, it’s fine. I don’t care. Really. We can just go home and watch TV or something. Whatever you want, Harvey.” The words seemed kind, but something about the way they were delivered was like a knife of guilt in Harvey’s heart. He didn’t want to disappoint James. He loved James. And James would never make him do anything he really didn’t want to do. He wasn’t that kind of person.
“Okay,” Harvey said weakly. James grinned and grabbed Harvey’s wrist as they stood up from the bar and made their way towards the men’s room.
The bathroom was empty. With one hand on the back of his neck, James pushed Harvey into a stall before stepping in behind him and locking the door. As he turned to face James Harvey spared a second to glance around the stall. There was a plunger by the toilet, dirt in the corners, scraps of paper and a cigarette butt on the floor. He couldn’t help but think that this didn’t feel right. It should be more romantic, more passionate than this. He shouldn’t even be noticing these things.
James grinned at him, and Harvey forced a smile. James pulled him close with the hand still on the back of Harvey’s neck, and they kissed again. Lips parted and tongues tangled. It was rough and eager, and Harvey tried to convince himself that he liked it, tried to get into the mood.
The scene shifted again as they separated. It was five months after their anniversary, in a department store where they’d gone to pick out a new couch. James’ hand bore down on the back of Harvey’s neck while his other held Harvey’s right wrist between them in a vice-like grip.
“James!” Harvey objected, trying to pull away. James was too strong.
“What?” The older man asked, eyes flashing with anger. “Like it’s going to be so bad to get down on your knees for five minutes? You’ve done it before!” He shoved Harvey away from him. In the tight space, Harvey stumbled backwards, tripping over the toilet and falling to the floor, his head striking the wall and his elbow slamming against the toilet seat. He looked up at James from the floor, feeling the burn of tears in his eyes as he lifted a hand to the back of his head.
“You know, sometimes you’re a real bitch,” James snarled, arms crossed over his chest as he glared down at Harvey.
Harvey bowed his head, unable to meet James’ gaze. Bitch. The word had so many meanings. Ungrateful. Unreasonable. Stupid. Weak. Someone who needed to be straightened out. Someone who deserved to be hit. Someone who had no justification for fighting back. Property. Subhuman. Bitch.
There were so many things wrong with this. Harvey knew that, on some level. But a combination of guilt and fear, not only of being beaten but of being alone, too, kept him from even thinking of getting out. There was no getting out. That would end in pain, and even if it didn’t, there was no life for him without James. And the only way to live with James was to give him what he wanted.
“Okay,” Harvey whispered, not looking James in the eye as he pushed himself up from the floor onto his knees. “Whatever you want.”
“That’s my boy,” James said, his voice sounding smug and satisfied as Harvey came to kneel before him.
Harvey flinched when a hand settled heavy on the back of his head. His heart was pounding and his hands were shaking, his vision still blurry with unshed tears. A nauseous feeling rolled in his stomach as James’ other had drew down the zipper of his pants. A mantra of “no no no no no” rang out in his head, but his body didn’t listen as his hands raised and his lips parted. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed it to be over quickly.
Harvey’s eyes snapped open in the darkness of the room. His breath was coming in shaky gasps, his body trembling and damp with cold sweat. He sat up abruptly and stared into the blackness around him for a moment before lifting his hands to cradle his head, as if that would somehow block out the memories. He felt hot tears at the corners of his eyes as he squeezed them shut, and couldn’t stop the soft whimpers that came as his throat constricted when he tried to breathe.
Then he felt a hand on his arm. Instinctively Harvey flinched away from it, a small cry of alarm falling from his lips. Heart racing, he drew his arms up to ward off the unseen attack. It never came. There was the sound of movement, and then he blinked in a sudden light.
As his vision cleared, Harvey raised his eyes to see who was in the room with him. He saw Mike standing next to the lamp by the couch, eyes wide in an expression of mixed panic and concern. It took a moment to process what he was seeing, and as the events of the previous night came back to him Harvey’s breathing began to slow. He was at Mike’s apartment. He was clear across the city from James. He was safe.
“Harvey?” Mike asked, slowly, cautiously, like he was afraid something bad would happen if he spoke.
Harvey took a deep breath and let it out shakily. He swallowed and licked his lips, wetting his dry mouth. And he lied: “I’m fine.”
Mike gave him a look of clear disbelief, and Harvey bowed his head, avoiding Mike’s gaze. He wondered why he had even bothered to say that. It was obvious, so obvious, that it was a lie. Of course Mike would see that, of course he would know what Harvey had been dreaming about. Of course he would know Harvey was not fine. But he had told the lie so many times, both to others and to himself, out of fear and in some deluded effort to make it true. It was second nature to lie about this. He did it as easily as breathing.
“Okay, Harvey,” Mike murmured. He didn’t qualify it with anything. There was no “You don’t have to talk about it,” no “I’m here if you want to talk about it.” He just let Harvey say what he wanted, and didn’t push in any direction. And for that Harvey was grateful. He wanted it mentioned as little as possible.
Mike didn’t go back to his bed. Instead he remained standing by the lamp, watching Harvey, like he was trying to gauge just how far from “fine” he was. Harvey tried to ignore him. He knew he couldn’t go back to sleep after the dream he’d had. He didn’t even want to pretend to sleep. But he didn’t want to talk about it either.
Slowly Harvey pulled his knees up to his chest on the couch and wrapped his arms around them. He could almost feel James’ hand on the back of his head, and he thought he could feel the sting of a bruise where his head had hit the wall in the dream. If he closed his eyes he could still see James’ hand on the zipper of his jeans. There was no sleeping with that in his head.
Harvey felt the couch dip, and looked up to see that Mike had sat on the other end, as far from Harvey as he could be while still sitting on the same couch. Harvey watched him with mild interest, wondering what was going through Mike’s head, what Mike thought about what he’d seen. It was one thing for him to know that Harvey had been abused. It was quite another for him to see Harvey wake from nightmares with tears in his eyes. He wondered if Mike had lost respect for him, and was certain that he must have, but at that moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt somehow empty and yet filled with pain at the same time. He wished he could shut himself down somehow, block everything out and stop hurting, stop feeling anything.
With a spark of grey static and a sudden burst of sound, the television in front of the couch came to life. Harvey looked over at Mike again, and found the younger man staring resolutely at the television screen, seemingly engrossed by a car commercial. Harvey wanted to tell Mike that he didn’t have to stay up with him, that Harvey would be fine on his own. But he was glad for the company. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t want to be alone either. He was glad that Mike seemed to understand that without Harvey having to say anything.
Harvey looked away from Mike, turning his eyes to the television as a woman with perfect white teeth in a big grin came onto the screen and talked about how amazing her new vacuum was. Then the show came back on. It was a made for TV movie he’d never heard of before, some spy thriller with horrible dialogue. Harvey didn’t pay much attention to it. He didn’t need to. Just letting the sounds and colors wash over his senses was enough. It was enough to push back the memory of James’ voice, James’ touch. It was enough to draw his mind back from the dark place it had sunken into. As he watched the movie, Harvey felt the tension slowly fade from his body. He let go of his legs clutched against his chest and let them fall to the ground, leaning back against the couch with a sigh.
Harvey didn’t know how long the movie was. Probably at least an hour and a half, from the time Mike turned the TV on. All he knew was that by the time it was over he’d succeeded in pushing back the memories that had threatened to overwhelm him. He was comfortably numb, and exhaustion was starting to take its toll. He was ready to try to sleep again.
After the movie went off, Mike stood with a groan and stretched his arms above his head. Harvey watched him from the corner of his eye. “I’m gonna go to bed,” Mike told him softly.
“Alright,” Harvey said. He thought his voice sounded hollow and cold. “I’ll go too.”
Mike nodded slowly. As Harvey lay back on the couch, pulling the blankets over himself, Mike turned off the TV, then the lamp, and the room was dark once more. A tiny thrill of fear ran through Harvey, but he ignored it. The darkness couldn’t hurt him.
Harvey closed his eyes against the darkness and let out a shaky sigh, telling himself that he was being ridiculous. Seconds later, however, when he opened his eyes he found that the room wasn’t quite so dark. A small light in the kitchen had been turned on. Harvey blinked in the semidarkness. He wondered if Mike thought he was so weak as to need a night light, and felt a sudden bolt of annoyance at the thought. He wasn’t a child, and the darkness wasn’t what he was afraid of.
“I don’t need the light,” Harvey said as Mike came back to his bed. He could hear the irritation in his voice, and wondered for a moment at his own lack of gratitude. Then he crushed that little voice. To call himself ungrateful sounded too much like James.
“Of course not,” Mike said simply. “I get scared of the dark sometimes. I like to sleep with the light on, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”
Harvey arched an eyebrow, and Mike shot him a glare and crossed his arms, looking every inch the petulant child told he was too old for a night light. Harvey had the sudden urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. They both knew what Mike was doing. There was no secret. But at the same time it also seemed incredibly silly to argue when Mike was saying that he’d left the light on for his own sake.
“Fine,” Harvey said at last. “Keep your night light.” He lay back on the couch and turned away without waiting for a response. None came. He heard the rustle of sheets as Mike lay down and got comfortable. Harvey listened as Mike’s breaths slowly evened out with sleep. He wondered if Mike was a light sleeper, or if Harvey had been screaming in his dream. He didn’t know if he talked in his sleep. Certainly James had never told him if he did.
Harvey rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. In the soft light coming from the kitchen, he could see the stains and water damage. The light wasn’t so bright that it would keep him from sleeping. Just light enough that he could tell what the grey shapes around him were. Being able to see made the new environment seem less strange and threatening. Harvey would never admit to being scared of the dark. But having the light on did make him feel a bit better. He would never have thought it was something that would really help him, but it did, and Mike had known that somehow and been able to give Harvey what he needed while also sparing his pride.
Harvey stared at the ceiling above him, absentmindedly picking out shapes in the dark water stains. He felt tired, and his mind was sufficiently numb and empty from watching the shows on Mike’s TV. It felt safe to sleep. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he wouldn’t have nightmares if he fell asleep. Harvey sighed softly in the darkened room. He closed his eyes and let sleep take him once more.
Harvey woke the next morning to the sunlight streaming through the window and the smell of scrambled eggs. He could hear the clink of pans and plates in the kitchen as Mike cooked, but had no desire to get up and join him just yet. Instead Harvey lay on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, taking in the same water stains he’d seen the previous night. The nightmares had not returned. He had been able to sleep soundly, if only for a few hours, and he felt more rested than he had in a while. All the same, he still didn’t want to get up.
Harvey felt his stomach growl, but he ignored it as he tried to process what had happened last night. Mike had reached out to him, tried to help him. And Harvey had taken him up on it. He’d spent the night at Mike’s apartment. He felt safe here, or at least, safer than he’d felt anywhere since the abuse had started. But he knew that it was only temporary. It was just for one night. And after get got up, after he went to work, when it was time to leave the office again… Then what?
Staying one night with Mike didn’t make his problems disappear. It didn’t mean that James would stop calling and harassing him. It didn’t mean he had any permanent alternative to going back to James. The only thing that was really different this morning than the previous one was that he knew, undeniably, that somewhere in the city James was waking up wondering where he’d been last night, intent upon finding him and making him too afraid to ever think of leaving again.
“Morning,” Mike’s voice greeted. Harvey turned his head in Mike’s direction without getting up. Mike was standing on the other side of the coffee table, watching Harvey with a cautious smile. He was still wearing the boxers and oversized T-shirt he’d slept in. In his hands was a plate of food, which he set on the coffee table next to Harvey. “I’m gonna go get dressed. We’ve got about forty-five minutes until we need to leave.”
“Okay,” Harvey sighed, running a hand over his eyes. He made no move to get up, however. He didn’t want to let the blanket fall from his body while Mike was in the room. He didn’t want Mike to see the bruises. But then he realized with a sinking feeling that Mike may have already seen them when Harvey woke it the middle of the night. He looked up at Mike, watching as he grabbed a suit from a small closet and went into the bathroom to change, wondering whether or not Mike had seen. He probably wouldn’t have said anything if he had.
As soon as the bathroom door closed behind Mike, Harvey pushed the blanket off and started to get dressed. He only had the suit from the previous day to put on, but it was better than nothing. He knew that none of Mike’s suits would fit him, and even with a spare in the office he wouldn’t want to go in wearing casual clothes. Putting on a suit had become something of a ritual for him. It was a summoning of will, a fortification of emotional walls. Just having it on made him feel stronger somehow. No other clothes would have that affect.
Mike came out of the bathroom just as Harvey was buttoning his jacket. He turned to face Mike, trying to read the younger man’s expression. It was more difficult than he would have expected. Was it pity he was seeing? That was expected, if not exactly appreciated. But he wasn’t sure pity was the right word.
“How are you feeling?” Mike asked slowly.
It was a loaded question. Was Mike specifically referencing the nightmare from the previous night? Harvey wasn’t scared now, but he knew he would probably have another one tonight as well. It had been going on for a long time, and he knew from experience that it took a long time to stop. Did Mike mean it more generally? There were many ways to answer. How was he feeling physically? Harvey could still feel all of the bruises, and the shoulder he’d wrenched in a fight a few days earlier had been aggravated by the hard couch. Mentally? Sane, he supposed, though he probably wasn't the best judge of his own mental state. Emotionally? Fuck if he knew. It was all too complicated. Hope and despair warred within him, thrown into chaos by anger, shame, and a dozen other things. Confusion was one. Uncertainty. He didn’t know what he was going to do. He knew he didn’t want to go back to James, and he knew there were people who wanted to help. But he didn’t know if those people could do enough to make it worth it to stay away. And just how much of that was he supposed to tell Mike to answer the question?
“Hard to say,” Harvey said honestly. His tone sounded bitter and resigned to his own ears.
Mike bit his lip and didn’t speak. Harvey could tell that Mike wanted to say something comforting. He wanted to say something that would erase the pain, make everything better. He just wasn’t sure what that was, and he was terrified of saying the wrong thing and making everything worse. But Harvey could see it in his eyes that he truly, whole-heartedly wanted to help. That was worth more than any words, however well-chosen.
Finally Mike looked away. He fidgeted with his shirt sleeve, then raised his wrist and glanced at his watch. He made a face when he saw the time. “Got to eat fast. We’ve got about ten minutes before we need to leave.”
Harvey nodded and sat down to his breakfast. Mike sat next to him with his own plate, though not close enough that their legs or shoulders were in any danger of touching. Harvey noticed that Mike had made the same thing for both of them: an omelet with cheese and peppers. He watched for a moment as Mike wolfed down his food. He didn’t feel very hungry himself. When he caught Mike glancing up at him, however, Harvey picked up his fork and started eating.
When they were both done, Mike found Harvey an unopened toothbrush to use. It was a plain white toothbrush with soft plastic on the handle the color of minty toothpaste. Back at his condo, Harvey had an expensive electric toothbrush. The manual one felt strange, Harvey mused as he brushed his teeth. When he was done, he instinctively began washing it out, only to stop with the toothbrush under the stream of water. Should he even bother washing it? Should he throw it away? Mike wouldn’t use it again, and Harvey probably wouldn’t be coming back. Harvey knew that, but he still washed the toothbrush out and put it in the glass by the sink along with Mike’s red one.
Harvey stood there for a moment, staring at the cup with the toothbrushes in it. When he and James had first moved in together, James had teased him about having a manual toothbrush. He had gotten Harvey an electric one as a gift, and their two brushes had stood on chargers in the bathroom, side by side but clinically separate. Harvey had thrown the gifted one away, but since then he’d always bought electric toothbrushes for himself. There was something strangely quaint about two manual toothbrushes standing in a cup together.
Harvey shook his head. He didn’t know what he was thinking. He didn’t know why he hadn’t just thrown the toothbrush away. Somehow doing so just didn’t feel right. With one last glance at the cup he turned and left the bathroom.
Mike was standing in the middle of the room, his bike helmet in his hands but the bike itself still hanging up on the wall. Harvey saw the problem immediately. They couldn’t both ride on the bike. “I can call a cab for both of us,” Harvey suggested.
“Or you could just call Ray,” Mike replied. Harvey frowned. Ray had told him that he had gotten in an accident, and he was sure he’d told Mike that. Harvey watched as Mike fumbled with the strap of his helmet, refusing to meet Harvey’s eyes. He suspected he knew why Mike was still suggesting it. Harvey called Ray from Mike’s phone, not wanting to turn his own on and see the slew of angry text messages and voice mails James had probably left on it. Ray seemed almost eager to pick them up when Harvey told him it was from a different address than usual. Nothing was said about the supposed accident.
Harvey told Mike that Ray was coming. Mike went to where his bike was hanging and put the helmet up next to it, obviously not planning on taking the bike with him for that night. Harvey wondered if he was planning to take a cab home after work, or if he thought he’d be convincing Harvey to come back with him again and be riding with Ray in the town car. Harvey thought that Mike was expecting too much. Even he didn’t know what he was going to do that night.
The two of them went down to the sidewalk to wait, passing the unit lock, the floor lock, and the building lock just as they had on the way in. Harvey wondered how it was that these three old locks in Mike’s apartment building had made him feel safer than his own condo, with its state-of-the-art electronic security measures.
Ray pulled up seconds after they stepped out of the building. Harvey looked over the town car, its sleek paint job untouched. “Huh. It doesn’t look like it got in a five car pile-up,” Harvey observed. He saw Ray and Mike exchange a nervous glance, and his suspicions were confirmed. Harvey managed a small, grim smile, to show them that he wasn’t angry. He knew they were only trying to help. He just wasn’t sure how much good it would do.
Harvey got in the car without saying anything, and Mike quickly climbed in beside him. Ray started it up and they drove off. Harvey looked out the window, watching Mike’s neighborhood slide by in the harsh light of day. It looked less dangerous now, without the shadows, but he could also see the litter and disrepair more clearly. Harvey tried to focus on what was on the other side of the glass, not what they were driving towards. The closer they got to the office, the closer they got to the time when he would have to leave the office. The time when he would have to make a decision that could affect the rest of his life. He knew what he wanted to choose. He just didn’t know if he was strong enough to do it.
Donna was always at the office almost half an hour before employees were required to arrive. Normally, she enjoyed using the time to leisurely drink coffee and check emails in preparation for the work day. Today, though, there was nothing leisurely about her morning. She knew that Harvey came to the office early when he was with James, and she was worried when he wasn’t there when she arrived. She tried to tell herself that he wouldn’t have come in too early, not wanting to arouse suspicion, but she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe there was something keeping him from being there. She knew that Mike had been planning to talk to Harvey, and could only hope that Harvey wasn’t in because he was somewhere safe, somewhere he wouldn’t need to run from.
Donna told herself that Harvey must be with Mike, but that did nothing to stop her from worrying. She tried to go along with her morning routine but found herself constantly stopping to check the time, growing more and more anxious with each minute that passed when Harvey didn’t show up. The other secretaries and associates began to trickle in, then the partners. Donna checked the time again. There were still a few minutes before the official start of the work day, but she couldn’t bear to wait any more.
Donna tried to call Harvey, trying to breathe evenly as the sound of her pounding heart and the ringtone of the phone sounded in her ears. After a few rings it went to voicemail. Donna hung up and stared down at her phone, feeling panic rising inside of her. Harvey never had his phone off. Not ever. He knew that he needed to be available to his clients at all times. He would only have it off if something were truly wrong.
Donna scrolled through her long list of contacts until she settled on Mike’s name. She had to know if he had managed to convince Harvey to leave James last night or not. If he had, then all was well and she could stop worrying. If not… She didn’t want to think about what it meant.
Donna was just about to push the button to dial Mike’s number when the elevator door slid open and Harvey and Mike walked out. Donna rose from her chair, wanting to run to them and make certain Harvey was okay but knowing that he would not thank her for making a scene in the office. Instead she stood behind her desk, watching with wide, anxious eyes as they approached. Harvey greeted her casually, seeming to ignore her obvious concern as if the day were like any other, and went into his office. Donna watched through the glass as he sat down behind his desk, then immediately turned back to Mike.
“Well?” she asked eagerly. “How did it go?”
“I got him out of there for the night, at least,” Mike replied. His tone was bitter, his expression grim and somewhat haunted. Donna knew he must have a better picture now of how bad the abuse was. She knew from experience that just being aware that someone had been abused in no way prepared someone for seeing the actual effects of that abuse. She remembered the first time she had really understood, when Harvey had broken down and told her some of the things James had done to him. She could clearly remember the waves of cold fury, the nauseous feeling in her stomach like she’d been punched. She knew Mike must be feeling that too now.
“For the night?” Donna repeated. Mike nodded.
“I couldn’t do anything else. He didn’t want to listen to anything I was saying. So I told him, just for one night. Come with me for one night, no pressure. You can decide tomorrow where you want to go from there. And Donna… I don’t know what he’s going to do now.”
“We can’t let him go back,” Donna said quickly. “It’s even more dangerous now. James will be furious that he was gone last night. I… Mike, you don’t know what that man’s capable of.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” he said darkly.
“No,” Donne replied. “You don’t. Trust me, you haven’t seen anything yet.” She saw Mike gulp, and knew he must be wondering just how much worse it could get. What he didn’t understand was that it took more than one night for Harvey to allow someone inside the walls he’d built around himself. It took more than one night for him to let someone see just how much he’d been hurt. Donna wasn’t lying. Mike hadn’t seen anything yet.
“So what do we do?” Mike asked, his voice somewhat unsteady.
Donna watched him for a moment. She knew he wanted the help, and she could see how frustrated he was at not knowing how to do that. It was a feeling she knew well. “I honestly don’t know,” she admitted.
Donna turned away from Mike, running a hand through her hair. “I wish I knew what’s keeping him there!” she muttered angrily. That was the real problem. She didn’t understand why Harvey wanted to stay. In the other times she and Jessica had had to fight to get Harvey to leave, it had been because he believed James when he said he wouldn’t hit Harvey again, or because he was afraid of what James would do to him if he tried to leave. But he had left James three times already. Surely that meant James was incapable of carrying out on those death threats he made? Surely Harvey would be able to leave safely? But Donna wasn’t sure she believed that herself. Deep down she couldn’t help but think that James had known each of those times that he could get Harvey back, and that if he really, truly believed he would lose Harvey, he might be capable of anything.
“He wants to leave,” Mike said. “I think he’s just afraid of what will happen. He thinks that James will keep coming around after he’s got his life back on track, and he’ll never really be free.”
Donna nodded slowly. “Then we’ll just have to convince him he can be. That we’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe, for as long as it takes.”
“That might be years,” Mike pointed out. “This James sounds like the kind of guy that doesn’t give up easily.”
“I’ll wait,” Donna replied stubbornly. “If it means keeping Harvey from going back to him again, I’ll stand between him and James until the end of time.” Her eyes locked with Mike’s and she held his gaze. She meant every word. She wasn’t afraid of James, not like Harvey was. Nothing he could do could ever hurt her as much as it could hurt Harvey.
Mike nodded. “Now we just have to convince him of that.” He looked over Donna’s shoulder into Harvey’s office. She nodded, jaw clenched. She and Jessica had failed to notice the abuse when it first started, and had failed to notice when the harassment started this time around. Unless they could prove to Harvey that they meant what they said, he had no reason to trust them to keep him safe. She would never forgive herself for failing him before, but she would do everything in her power to help him now.
Donna turned at the sound of the door opening behind her. Harvey was leaning out of his office, watching them with a slightly annoyed expression. “Don’t you both have work to do?” he asked, as if he didn’t know what they were talking about, as if he were any other boss telling his employees to stop gossiping. “If not, I’m sure I can find you some.”
Donna frowned and crossed her arms, remembering how Harvey had fought yesterday to keep Donna and Jessica’s words from affecting him. She could understand that he was afraid to leave. But she couldn’t understand why he would want to keep them from helping him.
From the corner of her eye Donna saw Mike open his mouth like he was going to object, then stop and bite his lip. He had a pained look in his eyes, and glancing between them Donna got the impression that more was passing between Harvey and Mike than she understood. Mike gulped and lowered his gaze. He nodded quickly, then turned and left. Donna watched him go for a moment before turning back to Harvey. They stared at one another, a battle of wills much like the previous day. Harvey didn’t back down this time. Instead Donna was the one to bow her head and sit back at her desk. She took it as a good sign. Yesterday, Harvey had seemed too tired to fight. Today he wasn’t. He was stronger. Strong enough, maybe, to make the decision he needed to.
Donna went back to work. She fielded calls, sent messages, and tried to lose herself in the normalcy of it. Harvey and Mike went to meet with a client, and when they returned they went their separate ways without saying anything unrelated to work. Around noon Harvey called Donna into his office to give her something that needed to be photocopied. He mentioned something offhandedly about hearing that Norma would be taking a day off to visit a sister who had given birth, and warned her with a smile that Louis might try to poach her from him again.
“Don’t worry about him,” Donna replied. “I wouldn’t leave you. You can always rely on me.” She looked him in the eye when she said it. Even though she was smiling like it was a joke and her tone was light, she knew he understood what she was trying to say. He nodded slowly, and she nodded in return. Without any more words, she took the papers and went to make copies.
Donna found a line in the copy room, and stood back to wait for the other secretaries to be done. As she waited, she contemplated the sum of her interactions with Harvey for the day. He was doing better, she thought. It was quite impressive, actually. In the past, she and Jessica had been unable to remove him from James until things became so bad he was truly in danger of dying if he stayed. But Mike had been able to get convince Harvey to leave on his own, at least for the night, and he seemed to already be part way into the healing process. Not far, of course, but on it. In the past it hadn’t been until days after he’d left that Harvey could even look someone in the eye. Whatever Mike had said to him had worked. Donna hoped it meant that Harvey would be able to leave on his own this time, before it got any worse.
The other secretaries finished, and Donna made her copies. She flipped through them absently as she returned to Harvey’s office, thinking to herself what she and Mike and Jessica might say to Harvey that night to convince him to not go back to James- to never go back to James.
As Donna neared Harvey’s office, she looked up from the papers. Her heart skipped a beat at what she saw: Harvey, rigid with fear as he stood before the elevators like he was waiting, and at his side, with one hand on the back of his neck, James.
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