Brother from another mother

Separation anxiety

Harvey wanted to tear his hair out. Literally. He would happily go as bald as Louis if it meant he wouldn't have to sit and try and feign indifferent ignorance to the screaming fit that was being carried out in the room next door.

Why did he think that this parenting thing would be easy? Why was he stupid enough to assume that?

And why had he been under the impression that everything would go fine? That Mike would be an eternal ray of sunshine until he went to college? He guessed that everyone was entitled to bad days, but Mike had been having a bad week.

First there was the fact that his Gram had been planning on coming to stay with them for the weekend. Mike had been so excited. He told Harvey he couldn't remember the last time that had happened - she'd been in the care home for so long he could only have day visit. He had bounced around as Harvey changed the sheets of his bed and also of Mike's - he had been planning on letting Mrs Ross sleep in Mike's bed and then for he and Mike to double up in his own.

But then the doctor called and had told him that unfortunately, Mrs Ross just wasn't well enough to be away from the care home. Harvey's heart had fluttered wildly at that but they assured him that she wasn't in any danger; she just wasn't well enough.

That had been a fun conversation to have with Mike.

And then only the day after, when he was still in the world's foulest mood and even Harvey was tiptoeing around him, he was informed by Jessica that anything he tried to help Harvey with they couldn't use in court because he was no longer a registered lawyer (Harvey couldn't help but chuckle at this statement). He had started to rage - and Harvey had been out; only for a few minutes so he could run to the corner shop - and when he came back he found Mike's whole room in total disarray with the boy in question breathing heavily, stood in the middle of the carnage, his fists clutched and shaking while tears ran down his face.

Harvey couldn't be mad at him then. He just couldn't. Not when he saw how agitated the kid was. All he had done was sadly pick him up and let him cry it all out on his shoulder.

He'd thought that might be the end of the shit storm that Mike had to endure for a few years now - kids were supposed to have it easy, weren't they? - but unfortunately it wasn't.

Three days after this, Donna had come to him looking pretty grim faced and said she had a gentleman waiting from the education board. They wanted to know why they had a Michael James Specter in their books and why he hadn't been registered to any sort of daycare or kindergarten.

Harvey had frowned but welcomed them into his office. He watched the two men. One had slicked back, greasy hair while the other worse glasses. Harvey was immediately suspicious - he knew very well what several codes said regarding children in education and smelt a rat. "Mike," he said. "Go talk to Donna for a bit, okay?" Mike had looked up from where he had been chewing his thumb, reading 'The Hobbit' and spotted the men who were now regarding him. He quickly marked his page and left, clutching onto Donna's leg and watching in some worry through the glass wall.

"Mr Specter, we're just curious to know how you're educating your son - it was brought to our attention his mother recently died?" The one with glasses asked, trying and failing to look sympathetic.

"Yes," Harvey said guardedly. "I've got sole custody - can I ask how this was brought to your attention?"

"When are you planning on sending Michael to school?" The greasy haired one asked, ignoring his question.

"Not until he's 5. Why?"

"He's no doubt in shock from his mother's death - we have to go through protocol with you regarding him socialising with other children - "