Brother from another mother

Second Job

Harvey knew he should calm down, or at the very least lower his voice. It was a hospital after all, and he was going to get himself kicked out for disturbing the peace and quiet of the post-op wing.

The thing was it was a hospital currently housing his post-op associate after the kid got shot doing a job Harvey wasn't even aware he had.

So he wasn't feeling very calm at the moment and, it turned out, lowering his voice was the least of his concerns.

"What the hell is wrong with you Mike?"

The kid was pale and clearly exhausted, and while Harvey felt a pang of sympathy for him, it was hard to identify behind the anger. And just what was he so angry about anyway?

"I didn't do anything wrong, Harvey," Mike sighed, fiddling with the blood pressure monitor clipped to the end of his finger, "The job didn't interfere with my work at the firm."

"Well it's sure as hell interfering now," Harvey said, making a wide gesture to encompass the situation, the room and the hospital itself. "You were shot!"

"Really?" Mike asked, wide-eyed, with more effective sarcasm than someone fresh from surgery should have been able to muster.

"Don't get smart with me kid." Harvey said, his voice finally lowering to a more normal level. The light reprimand seemed to ring home and Mike turned to look at the floor, his cheeks flushing red. Harvey sighed, pushing his suit jacket back to place his hands on his hips. "You could have come to me." He said finally, disappointment and resignation in his voice.

Mike's eyes snapped up to him then, and if Harvey had been looking he would have seen the rage ignite within them.

"Oh really?" He shot back, the venom in his voice bringing Harvey's gaze up to his.

Harvey's brows furrowed, genuinely confused.

"Of course."

Mike blinked at him and then laughed bitterly, despite the discomfort it brought to his stitches.

"And just how would I know that Harvey, huh? If you're not telling me I'm a moron and to figure it out on my own, then you're telling me you don't care and to figure it out on my own. Either way, I'm on my own," he shook his head, "how was I supposed to know this would be any different?"

"Because you should. This isn't a case, this is your life we're talking about." Harvey responded, his voice right back up in the 'two notches above appropriate for the surgical wing' range. And in the back of his mind he knew it was only a matter of time before hospital security showed up.

"Well we can't all be mind readers Harvey so I did what I thought I was supposed to. I saw a problem and I went after a solution."

"And now you're in the hospital because of it." Harvey took a step closer, right up to the foot of the bed, "What'd I tell you about puppies and their messes?"

"You know what, screw you Harvey," Mike practically shouted, adrenalin at hearing those words come out of his mouth momentarily blocking out the pain that was pushing against the edges of his mind.

Harvey was near dangerous in his incredulity.

"What'd you just say to me?" He asked, his voice suddenly no higher than a whisper.

"I said 'screw you'. It must be nice to be the top dog and get paid a thousand dollars an hour and live in a five million dollar condo with no one to worry about but yourself. But that's not me," he pointed a finger at his chest, his blue eyes locked firmly onto Harvey's brown ones. "I got bills to pay, alright? News flash: nothin' in this world is free. Between my grandma's full time care, rent and food and suits and everything else I need to work this job, I didn't have any breathing room. So yeah, I got a second job. One that wouldn't interfere with the one you gave me, one I knew I could do and still get the hours of work I go home with done. I could have come to you?" He nearly squeaked the last three words, his emotions running too high, too close to the surface. "Screw you. Screw you and your puppy analogy."