Brother from another mother

Disbarment

It starts with a flourish, as these things always seem to. Flash bangs across the sky, slamming doors and screaming things. Every time Harvey closes his eyes, every time he tries to sleep, he sees Mike's face staring back at him, stunned, paralyzed, locked in place forever no matter how many times he tries to push it away, claw the image from his mind, dig it out and throw it to the wolves. Instead he shouts himself hoarse and throws punch after punch after punch, scrambling wildly in the dark as he waits for one blow, just one, to land on something solid.

The eye of this tornado is a flat and lifeless thing, when it finds him. Life and everything keeps on raging on outside, all around him, and he stands at the center in the silence, in the cold. He's been running for so long, into the light made of mirror edges and sub-duct flashes, and now, finally, a moment of silence to lay his body down, his burdens and his struggles. All of his mistakes, his hardships and his sins.

NOTICE IS HEREBY GIVEN that by Order of the Supreme Court of New York issued July 18, 2016, Harvey R. Specter is Disbarred on Consent from the Bar of the Commonwealth of New York to be effective August 15, 2016.

Harvey sleeps with the letter under his pillow and dreams the words painted across the sky for all the world to see.

---

Ghosts crowd beneath Mike's bed, clawing at his skin, filling his mind with every choice he's ever made, every wrong word he's ever said. But this one, this one was right, wasn't it? This time, didn't I do the right thing? Didn't I make the right sacrifices, didn't I give up everything I had to? Didn't I do the best I could?

When every morning starts with the same questions, don't you think something's gone wrong? Somewhere along the line, the answer must have been "No," must have been "Turn around, go back, try again." Must have been "You can still make things right if you'll only admit you were wrong."

Mike closes his eyes tight against the dark and presses his hands down over his ears.

Why didn't I listen?

---

"Harvey, please talk to me."

Why? What do you want me to say?

Donna steps toward him slowly, carefully. Don't let that bomb go off, don't step on that land mine. Don't throw yourself out that window.

"I know you're going through something awful. I do. I understand. I just wish you'd tell me what you're feeling."

You need me to say it out loud? You won't believe it unless you hear the words right from my mouth?

"You can't go on like this."

He smiles, a twitch of muscle, a sour reflex.

"I don't see why not."

"Harvey." She raises her hand toward his shoulder and pulls it back at the last moment. Is she afraid of him? Afraid of the anger threaded through his muscles, the hatred creasing his brow and stiffening his spine?

Should she be?

Shouldn't she?

Standing there at his side, frozen in stasis, she waits for some sign, some signal that he knows she's there, that he remembers he's not alone. He looks out the window, at their reflections coloring the city below, and tightens his fists.

"Can't go on like what?"

She bites her lip and looks into his distant eyes.

"Harvey, you haven't been to the office in days."

Oh, didn't I tell you? Goodness, I'm sorry about that. Must've slipped through the cracks, just one of those things.

"You mean you haven't heard?"