A/N: Oh god, another multi-chapter! Someone stop me! Aha, yes another story. Don't worry I don't plan on abandoning Lean on Me but I have no idea how frequently I'll be able to update either of these because school is starting again in about two weeks and it's my junior year *cries*! I originally planned on waiting to post this until I had more chapters written, but after the last episode, I need to post it to cheer myself up haha. It was suchhh a good episode! The perfect mix of happiness and sadness (I cried like a baby when Harvey's dad died and when he went to visit him). But yay! He's going to get Donna backkk!
So here's my new story, it's mini!Mike and I was inspired by Crayons for the Associate, Sir? by Phoenix on cloud nine and Dream a Little Me In Yours Dreams (a White Collar fic) by DjDangerLove and decided to write one of my own because you can't enough daddy!Harvey too :) The title is from the song, 'I Don't Want to Grow Up' from Peter Pan (aka my favorite childhood Disney movie/story).
And BIG thanks to my new beta, DaniBD
Disclaimer: still don't own Suits or any of it's characters. The show would be a mess if I owned it, dear God.
So enjoy the story and leave me a review to let me know what you think! Xx
"Look, Mark, even if they did steal that research from you, there's no proof. Pearson Hardman represents the company, not you. And even if it was the other way around, I can assure you, you'd still lose the case."
Mark Stevens shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and stared up at the tall building in front of them. It killed Mike that there wasn't much he could do to help the man that was so much like himself. Harvey would've been annoyed at him for caring so much about the situation, especially considering the fact that Mark wasn't even their client. But he couldn't help but see a bit of himself in the man.
"This isn't just a case to me, Mr. Ross. This is my entire life. Did you know I graduated from MIT at fifteen? But I've been working on this since I was thirteen. That's when I originally came up with the idea. I have devoted the last twelve years on this project and…and this company says they'll help me out and then they go and pretend it was their idea and their work like I don't exist to them! They take it all away and you're saying there's nothing I can do?" His tone was hopeless and angry.
Mike looked down minutely before glancing over at his boss who stood by the entrance. Harvey tapped his watch impatiently, reminding the associate that they had a meeting at four. Mike checked his watch. In half an hour. Great.
"You know, when I was growing up, no one took me seriously. I mean a kid at MIT? That itself was enough to make me stand out. But what I was working on didn't help. No one believed that my project had potential. But I thought…I thought once I was finished and my work was published, people would finally stop treating me like some freak-kid with a big brain." Mark shook his head, running his fingers through his messy blonde hair. "Never should've told that asshole about my work. I can't believe I trusted him. I actually thought he was trying to help by getting his company to fund my research; he said I'd still get credit. Should've known he'd end up stabbing me in the back! Why else would they be paying for it under the table? God, I should've seen this coming."
The associate stared at him sympathetically. He definitely knew what it was like to be an outcast. Especially for being smarter than nearly everyone around him. And then to be taken advantage of…
"How? How could you possibly understand?! Y-You don't even believe me, do you?" He was half-yelling at that point, causing Mike to glance over at his boss anxiously.
"No, no. Mark, all I'm saying is that you don't have any evidence."
"Well what kind of evidence do you need?" Mark asked desperately, fiddling with something in his pocket, though the lawyer didn't notice.
"Your research is all gone and you have no way of showing that you even had the idea before them. I don't even know if you'll be able to prove that you worked for them. Because if what you're saying is true, they've covered your existence there pretty well."
"It's not gone, Mr. Ross! I was kicked out of my lab. It's all there!" Mark bit his lower lip. "Well actually…not all of the research is gone. I had a small amount of the serum at my place. Would maybe…a live test subject help me?"
Mike shrugged. "The serum?" It vaguely made him think of some superhero movie - maybe Captain America – and made it hard to take the younger man seriously. "I mean you could try using it. I don't know that it'll help much though. Your employers could easily say that you stole it. A live test subject…well um that depends I think. Something to show everyone might help. What were you working on anyway?"
"It's a sort of…de-aging solution."
"Wait, what? De-aging? Like, what? Keeping adults from getting wrinkles?" Mike could hardly keep himself from laughing. Some company was getting into a big fight with a young scientist over a de-aging project? What sort of sci-fi movie did they think they were in?
When the young man had called and asked to meet with them, Harvey had immediately tossed it to his associate. All he said was that the man was a 'kid genius' much like Mike himself and to find out what he needed exactly. Apparently the young scientist had been calling non-stop since a company that was a newer client of the firm's had claimed his research as their own. Even Harvey knew there was no way Mark could win, but he had hoped Mike could at least calm Mark down and maybe get it through to him that it was over. But there had been no mention of such ridiculous claims like being able to create a 'de-aging' serum. It sounded like some cheesy comic or movie.
"Well, depending on the amount given…it could turn an adult into a child."
The associate scoffed, though he quickly shut his mouth. He mentally kicked himself the second he saw the frustration and hurt on Mark Stevens' face. The young scientist stared at him with wide, green eyes.
"See, you don't believe me!"
Suddenly, Mark whipped his hand out of his pocket, clutching something in his fist as he lunged at Mike. Before he could react, he felt Mark's left hand on his shoulder, preventing him from backing up. Quickly, the young man brought his fist toward Mike. Out of the corner of his eye, the lawyer could see the end of the syringe. Mark hurriedly stabbed it into the side of Mike's neck, pushing down on the end with his thumb and injecting the contents into him. Yanking it away again, he dropped the syringe on the concrete ground and leaned forward as Mike's hand went to his neck. A sharp pain was beginning to spread from the tiny wound to his head. His heart was pounding loudly in his ears and his hands were shaking.
"There's your proof."
Mike stumbled back, as an overwhelming fear began to build up inside of him. Blue eyes wide, he stared in shock at the scientist. He could faintly hear someone shout for security, and the sound of footsteps quickly approaching. Mark simply stood back, arms folded over his chest with a small smile on his face.
"What the hell?" Mike growled, struggling to keep his balance.
"You said you needed proof! And now you'll have it; a live test subject. Someone will be bound to believe me after this!"
"That's…not…" the young attorney found that it was hard to speak as he glared at Mark.
I didn't mean myself, he wanted to shout. I thought it would be a rat or a dog. A human being was far from what would help.
The associate watched as two security guards finally stepped forward and grabbed the smiling man. Mike's legs began to buckle beneath the weight of his suddenly heavy frame. Feeling a pair of arms wrap around his waist he craned his head up to see Harvey slowly lowering him to the ground. His whole body felt limp and everything around him looked like he was in the middle of an earthquake…like the ground was moving beneath him. It reminded him of those glasses that make everything look the way it would if you were drunk - which was not a pleasant feeling. He held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut tightly in an attempt to keep his lunch down.
Rachel, he thought suddenly and opened his eyes.
The paralegal knelt beside him, concern covering her face. He felt his boss loosen his grip as he said something to Rachel that Mike couldn't quite hear. She quickly took Harvey's place, supporting the half-unconscious man as he stepped toward the scientist.
"What did you give him?" He asked, angry but calm at the same time, picking up the syringe with his handkerchief and holding it up for Mark to see.
"The serum. He said you needed evidence to get my research back and now you'll have it!" Mark sounded almost excited, which only caused the lawyer to grow angrier.
"The serum?" he repeated, arching his eyebrows with a faint smirk on his face.
"The de-aging serum, Mr. Specter. Mr. Ross didn't believe me either! But you'll see. You'll see…"
"Y-You're…in-ins-insane," Mike stuttered, though his words were hardly coherent. He couldn't help but feel absolutely terrified. His whole body felt like it wasn't there…like he was just sort of trapped in his mind. And it was getting more and more difficult to speak clearly. Rachel quietly shushed him, running her fingers through his hair as his eyes fluttered shut.
"What, is my associate going to turn into a teenager now? Looks to match his attitude? Great," Harvey joked dryly.
Mark grinned. "You'll just have to wait and see." He told him again in a sing-songy voice.
Harvey passed a hand over his eyes, taking a deep breath. There was something off about this kid. He motioned for the security guards to take him inside, quickly getting annoyed by his pleased expression. When he was gone, he turned back to his associate, kneeling down beside him and swinging one arm over his shoulder, and carefully hoisted him upright.
"Do you um, need my help, Mr. Specter?" Rachel asked, glancing at the very limp Mike worriedly.
"Just go tell Jessica that I'm taking Mike to the hospital. The guy thinks he gave Mike a 'de-aging serum'. Who knows what was really in that syringe."
Rachel nodded and quickly went back into the building as Harvey half-dragged Mike toward the curb, ignoring the many curious people.
"Hey, stay awake. And don't die or anything. I really don't want to do the associate interviews again or all of the work I'd get stuck with while I'm looking. Donna will kill me, then you, then me again if you die, kid."
Mike mumbled something about being late to their meeting, before putting all of his weight on Harvey as he fell unconscious.
"Shit," he grumbled. He was not enjoying having to carry Mike around, especially in front of all of the co-workers that were either walking past or watching. "Really? Only you would go get injected with something by a client. And make me miss a meeting. You're lucky this one's not a bit deal."
He quickly called Ray, thankful when the driver managed to get there within a few minutes. He dumped Mike in the backseat, shutting the door and jumping into the passenger seat beside Ray. They sped off for the hospital; Harvey occasionally turning around to check on the young lawyer that hadn't made a sound since he got in the car. Harvey just hoped he was still breathing. Not because he cared or anything. He just really didn't want to have to look for a new associate…
When they arrived at the hospital, Ray helped Harvey bring Mike in. The nurse at the front desk gave them a little trouble at first, but it didn't take much for Harvey to get Mike into a room with a doctor on the way.
"So, could you tell me what happened, Mister…?"
"Specter. Harvey Specter. And I'm not exactly sure what lead up to it but, my associate was given some sort of agent during a meeting," he pointed at the young man lying on the bed, "with what he seemed to believe was a 'de-aging' agent… No clue what was really in the syringe. I have it, though. It's empty."
The doctor nodded, taking the object and placing it aside for a moment. He walked back over, opened Mike's eyes and shone a flashlight over them quickly, doing basically a routine checkup. About halfway through Mike began to regain consciousness and was seemingly confused.
As he looked around, nothing seemed to focus correctly. Everything was fuzzy and unclear like he was looking through a dirty camera lens. Leaning over him was a tall, balding man in a lab coat. Mike's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out where he was and why he was there. When he noticed Harvey finally, his confusion only increased. The doctor quickly asked him questions that Mike was sure you'd probably ask someone who'd been hit in the head. He tiredly answered each one, but he quickly became frustrated and snapped at the doctor that he was fine and still remembered everything.
The doctor and a nurse quickly took a little blood, which caused the associate to panic a little, and sent it to the hospital's lab to be tested. The doctor helped him to sit on the edge of the bed, having Harvey hold him up straight as he checked his reflexes. Mike reached forward several times in an attempt to grab a hold of the stethoscope hanging from the doctor's neck, only for his boss to quickly swat at his hand. The younger lawyer wasn't sure what was so fascinating about the object; it simply just was.
When he was done, the doctor stood back and looked at Mike, scanning the young man before him with furrowed brows.
"Well I can't find any physical issues that might've resulted from the injection, but we can't be totally sure until the test results come back. Why don't you two just sit tight and I'll be back as soon as I hear something."
Mike leaned back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling then down at his skinny tie. He tugged at it, trying to loosen it around his neck. Why was the tie making him more irritated than usual?
"What are you doing?" Harvey asked from where he stood by the window.
"Don't want it on…" Mike whined.
Harvey rolled his eyes and focused back on his Blackberry, reading through the few text messages he'd received since they arrived. There was one from Jessica asking for updates on Mike and saying that Mark Stevens still hadn't said anything about what he'd given Mike. And there were about five from his assistant, demanding information on 'their puppy'. Harvey decided he'd reply when he actually had information, so he sat down in the empty chair, eyeing Mike as he continued to struggle with the tie.
Mike's entire body felt weak. It took an incredible amount of effort to move and he found himself getting quickly frustrated when he couldn't seem to get his damn tie off. He felt like a toddler who hadn't gotten a nap…and was being forced to wear an uncomfortable suit and an annoyingly tight tie that was meant to strangle him. No matter how hard he tried, the neck-wear seemed to be stuck.
"Would you calm down?" Harvey snapped, standing up and walking over to the bed.
"Wh-what are you doing? Leggo!" Mike attempted to push his boss away as the man took a hold of his tie.
"Mike! Stop moving." Harvey quickly loosened the tie and took it off, shoving it into the younger man's hands before returning to his seat.
"I could've done it myself. I'm not a kid," Mike grumbled, dropping his head back as a wave of exhaustion hit him.
"Not a kid," Harvey chuckled quietly.
Mike scowled and focused back on the ceiling once again. He really didn't know how to explain how he felt. His whole head felt foggy, like he couldn't think quite straight, and his body had a strange tingling feeling. He just wanted to be discharged so he could get back to work and finish the mountain of paperwork that Louis had no doubt already dumped on his desk, then go home, have a beer and sleep it off.
The doctor returned about half an hour later, test results in his hand. By that point, Mike was completely out of it again. His blue eyes were shut lightly as he hummed loudly to himself as the doctor approached Harvey.
"Well, Mr. Specter…we didn't find anything dangerous in your associate's system. I'm not entirely sure what the mixture was, but it seems to be just some sort of anesthetic. I don't know how long it'll last but I think Mr. Ross here will be fine. He's just going to be a bit uh…" The men both turned to look at Mike as he began to sing quietly to himself, his eyes still shut as if he were sleeping. "…loopy. All in all, I think he should be fine." The doctor finished with a slight laugh.
"Alright." Harvey could sense a but coming though.
"But -" There it was, "- I would suggest keeping an eye on him. Like I said, I'm not really sure what the mix in the solution did besides make him act like this…it would be a good idea to make sure nothing changes. I'd say we could just keep him here, but it could also just be a waste of time. He might be perfectly fine in an hour or so."
Harvey opened his mouth to protest but the doctor quickly left to go fill out the papers to have Mike discharged, leaving the older man with his musical associate. He rolled his eyes as Mike began his round of the Beatles, trying to hold back laughter. He had to admit that it was a bit amusing to say the least. A few times though he had to step over and tell the kid to shut up when passing nurses and doctors glanced in, seemingly annoyed.
He debated about who else might be willing to take the kid in until he felt better, but the list was incredibly short. He didn't think Donna's boyfriend would really want to have to help babysit the younger lawyer, so she would probably say no despite the fact that she really did adore Mike. Maybe Rachel? Yes, Harvey. She'd definitely want her boyfriend of two minutes to stay with her. As far as he knew, Jenny wasn't on speaking terms with Mike and his grandmother was an obvious no. SoonHarvey nearly found himself considering Louis.
"Harv-ee, when can I go home?" Mike whined suddenly, looking up at his boss with his big, blue eyes.
"You sound like a child. And stop pouting like that unless you're trying to look like one too." Mike scowled. "And you're not."
"I-I'm not? But Harvey, I'm tired. I don't want to go back to work!"
"What? You're not going back to work, genius." Harvey hated it when Mike even visited his home, and now he had to do something that practically betrayed every fiber of his being. "You're staying at my place until you're not…like this anymore. There's no way in hell I'm going over to that condemned building of yours when you can barely stay conscious. Again, what good is a dead associate to me?"
"You're gonna let me stay with you?" His voice was small, but his tone was slightly mocking. "Does this mean you care -"
"Shut up before I change my mind."
Mike went silent immediately, which was also sort of strange. He nodded half-heartedly as he chewed at the tip of his thumb. Harvey did his best to ignore the associate's watering eyes. Since when was the kid so easily upset? Harvey gave Ray a quick call, asking him to meet them out front. A few minutes later, a nurse came in with a wheel chair, telling them they were free to go.
"Hey, you're pretty. Guys, I got it, I got it. I know how to stand," Mike mumbled with a boyish grin when the nurse and Harvey tried to help him off the bed. His boss rolled his eyes while the nurse blushed and looked away. But the second they both loosened their grip on him, he nearly fell onto the ground. His face turned a bright shade of pink as they helped him over to the wheel chair. "Nevermind."
As soon as they set foot in Harvey's condo, the older man half-dragged his associate to his leather couch, sitting him down. Mike gave up trying to stay conscious as he let himself slump to the side, his skinny tie still in his hand. He wasn't quite sure what his new little fixation was with the tie. He just knew that for some reason, holding it at the moment gave him some small comfort. His boss rolled his eyes, helping the kid to lie down so he didn't topple off of the couch. Not seeing much else to do, Harvey left for his room to find something more comfortable to wear. They probably weren't going to get back to work anytime soon.
After checking to make sure that Mike was still breathing a couple times - he'd never seen someone stay so completely still while sleeping…or that silent - he sent a quick text to Donna and Jessica to tell them that the 'puppy' was fine. Feeling exhausted after dealing with Mike's delirious antics and the worrying that his associate had been poisoned - not that he'd admit to it - for the last couple hours had nearly drained him of any energy. He quietly made his way to his room, hoping a nap might refresh him and keep him 'occupied' while Mike was passed out as well.
As he lied down he muttered, "Only this kind of thing would happen to you. Good thing you're worth all of this trouble."
When Harvey finally woke up, it was a quarter to seven. He yawned loudly, not quite remembering why he was home so early, let alone asleep. Suddenly it came back to him. Mark Stevens, the mystery solution he injected Mike with, taking the kid to the hospital…Mike sleeping on his couch. Yeah, this was playing out to be a great day. A small whimper snapped Harvey out of his sleep dazed thoughts, and a sob from the living room brought the lawyer to his feet.
Quietly, he sauntered out of his room, determined to figure out what had the kid so upset. He was staying in Harvey's condo for Pete's sake! What could be so horrible about that? Especially compared to the state Mike was usually living in at his own place. But when he reached the living room, his associate was nowhere in sight. When he caught sight of the younger man's suit pants on the couch, his jaw literally dropped.
What the hell, kid? This is just great. My delirious, drugged associate is wandering around in my apartment with no pants on. If he breaks anything -
Harvey was snapped out of his irate thoughts when he heard the whimpering again. This time from the direction of the kitchen…but he couldn't see anyone. He made his way around the counter, rubbing his eyes and half expecting to see Mike on the ground or something. But that certainly was not what was waiting for him in his kitchen.
"Oh my God."
There in front of the refrigerator, staring at his unclear reflection stood a three-year-old boy with familiar blue eyes and messy blonde hair. His bottom lip quivered as he stared over at the tall lawyer. He tugged lightly at the giant shirt that was covering his entire body and in his little fist he held a dark, skinny tie.