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The Hands Of Men
A Suits FanFiction
**Hurt/Comfort**
*Trigger Warning: Domestic Abuse*
Mike was leaning against the counter in the men’s bathroom of Pearson Hardman, holding back the tears with all the might he had left.
He’d been wandering the streets for a few hours before he found he had subconsciously walked his way back to work. The bane of his existence.
Harvey had asked him to finish up a few details for one of their more prestigious clients before coming home. Mike had found more errors than he’d anticipated and ended up being an hour later than he had planned. He also made the mistake of not calling Harvey to tell him he’d be late. A mistake he knew he’d pay for.
The older man was enraged when Mike finally walked through the door. The dinner Harvey had planned was left cold on the table. The wine opened and the bottle now gone. Harvey had been left waiting. And he was pissed.
Mike knew he had it coming. Harvey’s rage had been building the last few days. It had only been a matter of time before Mike made the mistake Harvey was waiting for. That night just happened to be the night.
Harvey had starting calm. Something Mike had always found worse than the instant screaming. He’d made an effort to explain, to no avail, and it was moments before Harvey was hollering at him from across the room.
Mike took it for a while, letting Harvey blow off steam and alcohol, hoping that once he’d vented the man would be more calm and rational enough to see it was a harmless slip. But Mike attempted to explain himself, and Harvey saw it as talking back. That was when the shit hit the fan.
Harvey’s approach was intimidating. Mike felt the air cutting around him before Harvey even raised a fist, something he did the instant he was within swinging range. A right hook, a jab. A punch to the gut so hard that the smaller man found it harder to stand.
He fell to the floor and Harvey gave him a wallop to the gut with his bare foot. First one, then another. Three. Four.
Harvey became tired of Mike not fighting back and gave up on the physical assault to start in on the words.
Useless. Stupid. Uncaring. Thoughtless. Liar. Maggot. Undeserving. Liar. Cheat.
Mike tried to stop listening, but it was no use. He felt every single syllable Harvey spat at him, until he was in tears.
The salt water stung as it snakes down his broken face. Mike sniffled as he rose to his feet, heading for the door.
Harvey’s empty threats of ‘if you leave now don’t come back’ rung in his concussed head as he made for the hallway. He wouldn’t have to worry though. Mike wouldn’t be back. Harvey had locked the door and Mike didn’t have his keys.
“What happened to you?”
It was some sheer luck that Louis had been bringing the last box from his office to his car when the elevator doors opened to reveal Mike in all his post-war glory. He was more than shocked to see the fresh-faced man who left no more than two hours ago return beaten to a pulp.
Louis had tried to ask him what happened, but the shock was still evident. Mike was in no state to be answering questions. But it didn’t stop him. He mumbled something that sounded like ‘deserve this’ before he stumbled from the elevator, looking for something along the wall to grab onto. Louis wrapped a hand around the man’s bicep, pulling him up from what would have been a nasty fall and guiding him to a place where he could clean him up.
Louis touched the anti-bacterial cotton swab to Mike’s face with gentle precision, but the man didn’t flinch. Whatever had transpired sent him so deep into himself he was impervious to the sting of Lewis cleaning him up.
It was obvious that Mike had been crying, but the wells were currently dry, and a blank stare had replaced whatever sadness had been there earlier.
Louis rubbed the pad of his thumb across a cut on the young man’s forehead and saw Mike’s eyes dart back and forth across the floor. Never looking up.
He took short, shallow gasping breathes, trying to push back the emotional trauma of the night. Even in his slighting slumped over state he was still a little taller than Louis. An observation that would never go unnoticed by Mr. Litt.
Louis knew all too well about being beat up by people bigger than him. He’d spent most of his life as the short, stout kid who knew too much and wasn’t afraid use it to his advantage. Which often got him a few socks to the face behind the bleachers after school. It wasn’t until Harvard that he found the strength to fight back with a slick combination of words and fists. His face had often looked like Mike’s after a long day of classes.
Louis felt his own heart breaking. He’d always had a fondness for Mike. He admired the man’s intelligence. His ability to get the job done and think out of the box. His diligence. His dedication to his grandmother. His love for Harvey.
No one was supposed to know, company rules state and so on and so on. But Lewis had seen. A private moment behind closed doors when they thought no one was looking. Louis saw the eyes Mike made at Harvey, the small caress Harvey gave Mike, the chaste kiss they shared. It had shattered Louis then, the illusion of Mike one day being with him gone forever when Harvey’s lips touched the young man. He only wished that Mike could see Harvey for all that he really was. The controlling, self-righteous, self-centered, smug bitch that he’d always been. Louis wished that Mike would see him for all he could be. Harvey would never take care of Mike the way he needed. He’d never love Mike like he deserved. He’d never show him all that life had to offer outside the walls of Pearson Hardman. He wouldn’t show Mike what it was like to love and be loved in return. Harvey would only use him like he’d used all the others that came before him. Hurt and maul and annihilate the man until he was nothing but a shell of himself, until he was of no more use to Harvey. Until he was of no more use to the company. Louis knew he could offer Mike all the thing that Harvey couldn’t. A safe and happy home, a kind heart, and gentle hands. Hands made for holding and caressing, not punching. Louis could give Mike all of these things and more. If he only had the guts to express it.
His heart was lost once again, seeing his bright young colleague in such a low, dark place. So internally and broken and lost. His eyes never once moving from the floor. His hands never once coming unfolded form his lap. No matter what Louis did to his him, no matter the amount of anti-bacterial swabs he applied to him, no matter the amount of poking at Mike’s bruises and wounds. He sat there and took like. Like he took the beating that was dished out to him.
“Who did this to you?”
Again there was no response. Mike made a noise that sounded like a whimper, but he didn’t answer Louis’ question. So he asked again.
“Mike… Mike.” Louis had to put a hand to his chin, feeling the shiver of terror run through the young man, and lifted his head until their eyes met.
Mike was doing everything he could to keep the tears at bay, but his eyes were welling and started to spill over against his wishes. He tried hard to not break down completely, still hearing Harvey’s words run through his head like a broken record.
“Who did this to you.”
“I deserved it.” Was all he managed before the dam broke free and the tears started to fall. “I deserved it.”
Louis knew in that moment that the foul hands that destroyed Mike’s spirit were those of Harvey Spector. And if it took everything that Louis had, he’d see to it that it never happened again.