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Harvey never wanted to feel like a burden; he hated being cared for, and he hated when people took time out of their days to deal with Harvey's complaining. Yet, when his high school injury flared up again, all he wanted was for it to go away, and maybe, a bit of a guilty wish, this one, he wished someone would notice or care. He'd never admit that, though, so when the ache started once again, he just poured himself a scotch and sat back down at his desk, rolling his shoulder a bit as he took a sip, enjoying the burn as it slid down his throat.
It was late, about 10:30, Donna was probably getting ready for bed, if not already asleep- she never really was a night-owl. Most of the office had already gone home, leaving just Harvey and some overworked associates in the building. Of course, Mike was probably wandering around as well, working his 5th extra late night in a row. Harvey wondered if he ever actually slept for more than an hour at a time.
He sat back in his chair with a sigh, setting his glass down on the desk, his now free hand making its way to his shoulder that seemed to be slowly getting more painful. It was at that point that Harvey really wished he listened to the doctors who recommended getting pain meds, but of course, his ego wouldn't allow him to admit that he needed them, so instead, as usual, he resigned himself to working through the pain. Again.
He removed his hand from his shoulder and picked up a file from the case that seemed to be taking up all his time recently. He knew something 'fishy' was going on- as Mike so often liked to say- though he couldn't seem to put his finger on it, no matter how many hours he spent at his desk. But he supposed the fact that he was otherwise distracted and just staring at the file without really reading it wasn't helping him find anything. He just kept re-reading the same paragraphs over and over without really gleaning anything from them.
He clearly wasn't remembering to use his brain very much and was a bit out of it because when files were put down on the desk in front of him, he hadn't even realised someone had walked in. He looked up quickly, a bit startled, though he'd never admit that to the eager blue-eyed associate stood in front of him.
The kid was clearly talking and was in the middle of a sentence when Harvey managed to tune in. "-The financials don't match up, just little payments going missing from the records, I'm thinking embezzlement.. Harvey, are you listening?"
"What? Yeah, yeah, I'm listening." Harvey answered quickly, picking up one of the files that Mike had dropped onto his desk, wincing a bit when he lifted his bad arm.
"Are you okay?" Mike asked, the concern that Harvey so hated lacing his voice.
Yeah, I'm fine, you were saying?" The older man responded, his tone tight, though inside, a small part of him appreciated the care Mike displayed; he hadn't realised how much he missed it.
Mike eyed him warily, but he continued regardless. Harvey managed to keep up this time, nodding and interjecting with points as they started forming theories and a strategy. Despite how normal the conversation was, Harvey couldn't miss the worried looks Mike kept shooting him or the growing ache in his shoulder.
Mike gave up about halfway through the conversation when he caught Harvey wincing once again. "Right, no, out with it, Harvey," Mike demanded, the tone catching Harvey off-guard for a second before he took back the cool and collected mask he had dropped for a moment.
"Out with what, Mike? I'm fine," He responded stubbornly. The look Mike gave him after that was not something he'd seen before, and he wasn't sure he liked it. So he answered him, albeit reluctantly, "Fine, Fine, Jesus kid. You know that injury I got in high school, the one that took me out of Baseball?"
He wasn't sure why he'd asked, because of course Mike remembered; he had that eidetic memory, Harvey silently envied that skill, it had gotten them out of more jams than he could count, though Mike probably remembered the exact number because of course he did.
But alas, when the kid nodded, he continued, "Yeah, Well sometimes it still hurts when it flares up," He muttered, definitely not enjoying the process of 'opening up'… though a small part of him felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Even still, he didn't meet mikes eyes, expecting disgust, indifference, or something along the lines of that shallow way people respond when they don't actually care, or maybe he just didn't want to face the reality that maybe he had found someone who didn't judge him, who understood, so, against his better judgement, he looked up. The oceans of blue in his associate's eyes stared back at him, an odd edge of an emotion Harvey wasn't sure he'd ever seen before.
"Damn, I'm sorry, uh… Is there anything I can do? I have some Tylenol and aspirin at my desk?" the kid rambled quickly, genuine care lacing his words. Harvey's eyes snapped back to his, almost surprised.
For the first time in a long time, Harvey didn't feel the need to hide his pain, and for once, he accepted as Mike doted over him, passing him a glass of water with the meds he'd scavenged from his bag. Harvey wasn't sure why, but as Mike sat with him, engaging him in casual conversation on the couch, he felt lighter than he had in years, he decided that maybe, his pain wasn't the weakness he thought it was, it might just be a part of him, one that he didn't need to hide behind snarky quips and unbothered grins anymore, and he knew, he had Mike to thank for that.