Title: Through the tears
Characters: Mike, Harvey, Donna
Genre: Gen; emotional hurt/comfort
Word Count: 668
Warnings: No beta, off screen non-major character death (canon event),
Summary: Mike gets a reminder that family isn’t defined just by blood.
A year ago today, Mike became an orphan all over again.
A year ago today, Mike’s world fell apart.
Mike stood just inside the big iron gates at the entrance to the cemetery. His bike was chained to the railings and he had walked in but was unable to go any further. His legs just wouldn’t move. His breath caught in his throat and his eyes watered so much he could barely see the screen of his cell phone, but habit had him dialling with ease.
“I thought you were taking a personal day, Mike.”
“I can’t move.”
“What? Are you ok? Is it your whole body or just some parts?”
“I’m fine. I just, I can’t walk up there.”
“Up where, Mike?”
Mike sighed, ducked his head, rubbed his eyes with his spare hand, and looked up at the gravestones around him.
“Up to Grammy’s grave.” Mike choked out, tears spilling over his face despite him screwing his eyes up to stop them.
The voice on the other end of the line went silent for a moment.
“Walk to the nearest bench. Sit down and relax as much as you can.”
Mike found himself taking the six steps to the bench just off to his left and sitting down, looking at the ground before he even realised that he was moving. Over the phone, he heard the muffled sounds so common to Pearson Hardman that he could almost plot out where everyone was and what they were doing.
He had been sitting there, phone held tightly against his ear long enough for his arm and ass to have gone mostly numb and the tears to have turned his face into a soggy mess.
Before long, he heard the sounds on his phone echo; the same sound coming in one ear through the phone and coming in the other ear from his surroundings. He was still gripping the cell phone and looking down when someone plucked the cell from his ear, ended the call, slid the phone into Mike’s coat pocket and sat next to him.
“You don’t have to do this alone, Mike.”
“I just wanted to be strong. For once in my life I wanted to be strong like Grammy said my Dad had been. I just,” Mike sighed and looked at where his hand was being held by the person sitting next to him; mentally comparing the difference in the sizes of their hands and the shape of their fingers. “I didn’t want to be something else you had to look after. I don’t want to just be a puppy that needs his messes sorted out by you, Harvey.”
With a sigh, Harvey gently pulled his left hand out of Mike’s and replaced it with his right hand. He then slid his left arm around Mike, pulled him in close and quietly spoke in Mike’s ear.
“This is not a mess to be sorted out, Mike, and you should know by now that I don’t mind being here for you when it’s about family. Or what we count as family.”
Mike stayed silent, eyes closed, breathing in the scent that was unique to the man sitting next to him and tightened the grip on the hand he was holding.
Just as Mike opened his eyes to look over at Harvey, he heard the distinctive sound of expensive stilettos on concrete and turned towards that sound instead. When the owner of the impressive stilettos stopped in front of Mike and Harvey, Mike looked up at her, frowning.
“Donna, what are you doing here?” Mike asked.
“I couldn’t leave you with just Harvey here. Who knows what he’d say, we all know he doesn’t care for anyone’s feelings.” She replied, smile tugging at the edges of her mouth. “Anyway, it’s my lunch hour and my boss wasn’t around to tell me to not come here, so here I am.”
As she spoke, Donna sat down on Mike’s left and settled an arm around him as well.