Six days ago Harvey Specter died. Yesterday Mike Ross buried the love of his life.
Mike’s life had been a never-ending parade of loss, failure, and disappointment until he met Harvey. Things changed for him then and Mike honestly thought he’d suffered enough throughout his younger years that the rest of his life would be kind to him. He should have known better. Harvey dying on Halloween feels like some sort of sick joke.
Mike didn’t cry at the funeral. Donna was an absolute wreck, sobbing as mascara blurred her normally perfect skin, Rachel holding her close, whispering reassurances as silent tears made their way down her cheek. Jessica gave a speech, eloquent and professional but loving and genuine as she always was when it came to Harvey.
Mike said some words too; a speech he’d written down the night before amongst a blur of mind-numbing scotch. It wasn’t heartfelt like Jessica’s, it didn’t bleed emotion like Donna or quietly consume him and his audience. It was fake and flat and didn’t do justice the feelings Mike held for Harvey. He wishes he could have said more, that his words could have held love and sincerity, but he was too numb to the pain to even consider what he was saying. He couldn’t tell you now what he said, but he knows it wasn’t the truth.
The regret stings now, a flash of feeling through the nothingness. He’s been trying to pack up some of Harvey’s belongings for the past three hours. He’s made very little progress, instead too caught up in his own thoughts and how much he wishes Harvey was just sitting beside him once again.
His phone rings again, the flashing screen screaming ‘Rachel’ too overbearing for his dulled and underutilised senses, and again he hits the decline button. His thoughts remain focused on Harvey, on how he misses his presence, on how the condo seems much too big and much too bland without him. The house is quiet and sterile and Mike just doesn’t want to be alone any longer.
It’s coming on close to 3am when Mike makes his way through the cemetery gates. His body shivers against the wind and the hairs on his arms stand tall but he doesn’t feel the cold beyond the constant ache that’s settled in his chest.
Standing before the headstone feels like something out of Mike’s nightmares. The grounds are quiet, his breath billows out before him, and the longer he stares at the stone the more still his surroundings become. He keeps expecting it to disappear, for the stone to vanish and to take the empty words with it.
Mike wants to yell as fury flows through him; as if those simple little words could truly encapsulate who Harvey Specter was. Is. He’s not gone yet, not for Mike. The thoughts spur Mike into action, his movements controlled and precise but still somehow urgent. His mind focuses on Harvey and seeing him again and nothing else in the world even matters anymore.
It’s still dark by the time he’s finished, sweat dripping over his eyes and down his cheeks, a salty mix of tears and perspiration that Mike refuses to acknowledge. Mike can’t see anything other than Harvey lying before him. Still and perfect, as beautiful as ever, the love of his life. For the first time in close to a week Mike Ross smiles softly to himself.
Having Harvey home with him again feels right, like they’re meant to be together no matter what happens, not even death can stop them.
Mike’s sat them on the balcony together so he can watch the sun rise, listening to the city slowly waking below them, only focused on having Harvey there with him. The condo no longer feels cold with Harvey there despite the cool touch of his skin, it feels like home again simply because he has Harvey close. He can touch him again and Mike’s heart swells at the thought.
When the sun has fully risen, the blue sky washing away the hues of pink and orange, Mike moves them inside. He makes his way into the kitchen focused on re-establishing some sort of routine, on getting his life back together now that he has Harvey with him once again. He pours two bowls of cereal and sits beside Harvey at the kitchen table, digging into his own bowl as if he hasn’t eaten in days. The thought makes him sit up straighter and he chuckles softly to himself when he realises that he hasn’t.
Mike can’t keep his eyes off Harvey, he can’t stop glancing at his love beside him, not eating, not breathing, just a still and silent comfort in an otherwise empty life. But the sight of Harvey in a suit here is jarring. At the office, sure, Harvey would never be seen in anything else, but here at home where they can be themselves Harvey loved to dress down. Harvey loved being naked together; he loved feeling the press of Mike’s skin against his own, he revelled in the opportunity to walk around freely, escaping the confines of his perfectly cut suits.
Mike stands suddenly and pushes his unfinished breakfast away. He moves them into the bathroom where he can undress Harvey and lay him down gently into the barely used bath. Mike takes his time cleaning Harvey, gentle in his movements but ensuring he doesn’t miss anything. He cleans out the dirt from under Harvey’s fingernails and he washes his hair.
He loses all track of time, too focused on the slick slide of water trailing over Harvey’s cool skin and on the way his heart beats that little bit faster at just being able to touch, but by the time he stands again and moves to dry off Harvey’s body he’s hungry again and the sun has risen much higher into the sky. He checks his phone for the time only to find the battery dead. Mike’s thankful he won’t have to ignore anymore pointless phone calls.
Mike ignores the rumbling of his stomach in favour of moving them towards the bedroom. Harvey’s side of the bed is still exactly the way he left it; Mike hasn’t been able to do much more than stare the silhouette of where Harvey lay the night before Mike lost him. Laying Harvey down there again now brings another smile to Mike’s face; he lays down beside his love and suddenly he feels like he’s whole again. He reaches forward slowly to touch Harvey’s cheek, gentle in his caress as he whispers, “I made my mind up last night that heaven just can’t have you.”
The sky has fallen dark again by the time reality starts to creep back in. Mike has spent the last few hours doing nothing but stare at his love and reminisce about their lives together. They’d been happy, they truly had, in the most honest and complete sense of the word. They’d had some tough times but they’d always been better for it and they always ensured they other knew he was loved. Mike wants that back, he wants Harvey back, and being able to look and to touch is the start of that, but Mike knows it can’t go beyond that anymore. He’ll never hear Harvey’s laughter, he’ll never be kissed by him again, he’ll never feel the warmth of Harvey’s hands caressing his skin. His thoughts grow darker as the sky outside turns into the darkest night and suddenly he knows what he’s going to do.
He’s quick but careful as he redresses Harvey into his perfect black suit. Mike always loved Harvey in black and it seems fitting for the occasion. Once Harvey’s dressed, sitting and waiting, Mike dresses himself. He takes him time picking out the perfect outfit, trying on different suits and combinations of shirts and ties until he finds the perfect compliment to Harvey’s own. Mike stares at himself in the mirror impressed and he knows Harvey would have absolutely adored his choice.
The journey back to the cemetery feels a lot quicker to Mike this time than it had the night before. Possibly, he thinks, because this time he knows what he’s here to do and he’s made peace with himself and his actions.
It doesn’t take him long to find Harvey’s grave, that’s not something he could ever forget, and he’s careful as he lowers Harvey’s body back into the ground. Once his love is settled Mike doesn’t even hesitant. He’s content with his choice; he doesn’t want to live his life without Harvey. He spent the years of his life before Harvey miserable and failing and he doesn’t want to go there again. Even if Mike were to stay successful, to keep his jobs and his friends, he doesn’t want that without Harvey either.
Mike’s careful in preparing what needs to be done, in making everything perfect, and then he takes his final glance around the cemetery. It’s dark and surreal and even the stars don’t hold their appeal anymore. Mike lowers himself into the casket beside Harvey and pulls the lid down over them. The dark is blinding and the silence is deafening but Mike continues to breathe easily. He pulls Harvey’s arms around him and he holds Harvey close, breathing quietly, happy in the arms of his love as he waits for his own breath to run out and for his finish to come.