Brother from another mother

Post-its. [Part-11]

Harvey looked out of his window with his hands in his pockets. He often did this on mornings. After collecting any mail from Donna (And maybe a coffee if he hadn't had time to get his own) he would go into his office, shuffling through it whilst stood in front of his large window. He loved the view, and for some reason was almost humbled by it. Many - such as Louis - would feel more powerful or rich; the view of many other New Yorkers going to work, whilst he was stood in a skyscraper overlooking them. They were so small, so insignificant in his life. But Harvey personally like the view because it reminded him of where he started, and he was grateful for this view every day.

He remembered Mike's reaction to the view; and every one since the first. Every time Mike looked out of that window there was a small gasp, or a faint "wow..." as his associate gazed down, and across the city. Every time that happened Harvey smirked to himself, as Mike had been having the same reaction for about 3 months now.

Shaking his head and putting all of these thoughts to one side, he continued to flick through his mail, meandering over to his desk to use his silver letter opener. Mike preferred ripping envelopes open with his hands, but to Harvey, nothing beat smoothly opening it, the envelope still crisp and without the small scraps of paper that Mike seemed to leave every time he opened one.

"Harvey," Donna stood at his door, looking extremely agitated. "Mike's phone is calling your extension."

Harvey raised his eyebrow. The odd wording made him uneasy. "Why isn't he calling my cell?"

"It's not him on the other end," Donna told him quickly, walking over and pressing the button to let Harvey hear the other end.

"Is this Harvey Specter?" The deep voice was definitely not Mike, and for some reason all Harvey could think of was the scenario Mike had been forced into, having a kidnapper's demand money or they would kill Trevor.

"Yes, who is this?" He asked, answering a question with a question.

"Mr Specter, my name is Dr Ray Simois at New York Downtown Hospital; my patient is a Mr Michael Ross - do you know him?"

Harvey swallowed to stop some bile rising in his throat. "Yes - is he okay?"

"Paramedics were called to an alley outside the Rickling Rehabilitation and Nursing Centre," that name struck a chord with Harvey, and he remembered that was where Mike's grandmother lived. "They arrived to find Michael unconscious and with what look like beatings."

"How is he now?" Harvey asked, buttoning his jacket and grabbing his cell - wincing to find he already had one missed call from Mike's phone.

"We should have him stable now; he's got quite a severe concussion, one of his arms is broken and he has fractured two ribs. I suppose he was lucky, all things considered. We informed his grandmother as she is listed next of kin; however since she is now living at the Rickling it is impossible for him to stay with her."

"How did you know to call me?" Harvey asked.

There was a pause, and Harvey could swear there was a small chuckle, and imagined Dr Simois smiling. "He woke up briefly as he was brought on and told us he needed to call you. Said you'd be pissed as hell to find out he was injured through a paramedic or a note. I hope you don't mind that I'm calling."

"That kid," Harvey muttered, half to himself. "I'm coming down now, Doctor, thank you," he ended the call and looked over to Donna. "Cancel anything I have on today."

She tutted. "Your clients are going to think you have more important things to do with your time than help them."

Harvey smirked at her and left. As much as he wanted to tell her that he did, he couldn't imagine the look on her face if he admitted it.