"Come on. We're going to the gym. I've got to charm a client and you're the third in our game of three on three," Harvey says as a greeting, walking up to Mike's cubicle.

"Harvey, what?"

"You heard me. Let's go," Harvey replies, already walking away. Mike quickly grabs his paperwork and messenger bag as he hurries to catch up with Harvey.

"I know you might be into basketball, with the thousands of signed balls in your office, but I actually have very little athletic skill. Not to mention any clothes to change into."

"Just get in the car and shut your mouth for once will you? I have an extra set of gym clothes."

Mike gets in the town car.

HMHM

"God. It's disgustingly hot out here. Why are we playing outside and not in the gym? You know, where there's air conditioning?" Mike questions as they reach the basketball court - he's already pulling off his suit jacket in the heat.

"Because that's what the client wants. Now shut up. The guy with the red hair is Charles Denizet-Lewis and he's our client. He also owns some very popular websites, and is recently engaged to an Emily Benoit. After the game, we'll be discussing their pre-nup."

"Harvey. So you found a third. How wonderful," says Charles, his accent only hinting at his French upbringing.

"Charles, let me introduce you to my associate, Mike Ross. Mike, this is Charles Denizet-Lewis."

"Hello. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mike," Charles drawls. "I believe our opponents are already getting changed. Shall we head to the locker rooms?"

"Absolutely. Let's go," says Harvey as he and Charles walk in the direction of the locker room. Mike trails slowly behind, hesitant. "Come on, Mike, we haven't got all day."

HMHM

In the locker rooms, Charles quickly changes into shorts and a sleeveless shirt. Telling Mike and Harvey he'll meet them on the court, he heads out the door - their three opponents are friends of his from college, he explains. Harvey finishes quickly, but realizes he didn't give Mike the shirt that went along with his shorts.

When Harvey walks around to the other side of the lockers, he catches Mike in the act of pulling off his clothes. He goes to say something about being so slow, but sees a glimpse of scars on Mike's thighs. Harvey quickly hides himself at the end of the lockers to surreptitiously look at him. As Mike pulls up the basketball shorts, Harvey notices more and more scars.

The lines are straight and in rows that appear to create white horizontal lines from Mike's upper thighs and continue up to where his briefs hide them, but Harvey can see the lines peeking out on Mike's hipbones and up his lower abdomen. Harvey's first reaction is anger at whoever did this to Mike, too in denial to admit that he knows Mike did this to himself. He can't think about it. He can't think about the fact that Mike had taken something sharp to his skin and watched as the blood had pooled in bright lines of red against the surface.

When Mike's legs are covered with Harvey's shorts, he looks up to see Harvey throwing a white t-shirt at him.

"Come on, let's go. It's not good to keep a client waiting," Harvey's tone is soft and has none of the usual bite behind it, but his mind is still on those scars.

HMHM

The basketball game ends swiftly, their team beaten. Between Mike's lack of athletic skill and Harvey's distraction, they never really had a chance. Afterwards, they discuss the basics of what Charles wants in the pre-nup and Harvey tells him that it'll be done by the end of the week. Charles and his friends head to the tennis courts to play doubles as Mike and Harvey go back to the locker room to change.

HMHM

Harvey carefully avoids Mike in the locker room and says nothing to him as they climb into the town car. But when Harvey gives the driver the address to his apartment rather than the office, Mike looks at him in confusion.

"Why aren't we going to the office? Do you need something from your apartment?"

"We're not going back to the office today. I called Donna while you were changing and told her we had business that would keep us out with Charles for the rest of the day."

"Okay… So you lied. Why?"

"We'll discuss it at my apartment, Michael." Mike's confusion becomes visible worry at Harvey's use of his proper name.

When they arrive at the apartment, Harvey ushers Mike in and goes to the kitchen to get two glasses of water.

"Please sit on the couch, Mike. We need to talk."

"What did I do? Did something happen? You're making me worried, Harvey."

"I'm a little worried myself, to be honest. I don't know how to say this or bring it up, but I need to know. Are you okay?"

"I don't understand."

"Do I need to get you some help? If you need to go to a clinic I can get you the time off... I'll even pay for it."

"Harvey," Mike says, as though he's beginning to understand that Harvey thinks something's wrong with him. "I'm not doing drugs, if that's what you think, and I don't need to go to a clinic. So just tell me what you're talking about, please?" His eyes betray him as he glances down to his legs.

"I saw them. Today. When you were changing."

"S- saw what Harvey?" Mike's hands unconsciously go to his thighs.

"I saw the scars. God, so many scars. I know you've been hurting yourself. Just let me help you, Mike? Please? I know I'm not supposed to, but I care about you. You can get better. You deserve to get better." Harvey's voice is pleading, filled with emotions he's always claimed he didn't have.

Mike just sits on the couch staring as Harvey towers above him.

"I haven't cut in almost 6 months." Mike whispers. He's not looking at Harvey now, he's staring at his thighs, just now noticing his trembling hands. "And that was only once and the first time in about a year." Harvey kneels in front of Mike and takes his hands in his own.

"Are you getting help? Are you seeing someone for this? Taking anti-depressants or something?"

"I had a counselor for a while. He was good. Gene Reynolds. I haven't needed to go back. I know what my triggers are now, I'm better at controlling myself."

"There are so many Mike. So many… and all over. How long have you… how long?"

"I started after I was kicked out of college. I just needed to… There's no way to explain why or how. It's everything and nothing, the release of endorphins and the knowledge that I'm still alive. It's the vision of blood on skin; it's atonement for every thing and every relationship I've ever fucked up."

"Six months ago. That was shortly after you started working for me. Can I…? What was…?"

"Why'd I cut again after a year of sobriety?" Harvey just nods, his face hurt, worried, and so full of emotion. "It was my fault. I let Louis talk me into getting high. I fucked up. I hurt you…"

"… So you hurt yourself," Harvey completes Mike's thought. "Can I see it?"

"I don't think that…"

"Please Mike. It's my fault it's there. Can I see it?" He sobs through tears slowly trailing down his face. Mike, unable to deny Harvey anything, un-tucks his shirt and opens his belt to lower his briefs. Harvey can see a long line across Mike's right hipbone. His hand reaches out to trace the white raised lines on Mike's skin.

"It's not your fault, Harvey. It's mine. I'm so sorry I fucked up. And then I fucked up again on top of that. This is my fault."

"No. This scar is mine. I should have watched out for you. I should have taken care of you that night. I shouldn't have left you alone then and I should take care of you now."

"Harv-"

"No. Dammit. You are mine. I'm supposed to take care of you no matter what." Mike shivers are the angry, possessive tone in his voice. Harvey's face, covered in tears, lifts from examining the scar to look at Mike. Mike lifts a hand to Harvey's face, his fingers brushing the tears from under Harvey's eye.

"You do take care of me. You give me the strength to fight this. Between you and my Grammy I can beat this. I'm never going to stop wanting to cut when things go wrong, but I will do the best I can to never go back to that so long as I have you. You make me want to be strong."

"Can you forgive me?"

"Only if you forgive me." At that, Harvey meets Mike with a soft kiss. Tears mingle on their cheeks.

"I love you. God help me, but I love you." Harvey punctuates this with another soft kiss, not trying to take anything deeper.

"Good. Cause it would be embarrassing if I was in love with you and didn't love me too."

"Way to ruin a moment, Mike."

"We could always move into the bedroom to get it back."

"Not tonight. We're going to take this slowly. I'm not going to ruin what we have or jeopardize your mental health for this." Mike pouts. Harvey clears it away with a kiss. "We are going to sleep together in my bed tonight, but no sex. I'm going to hold you close and not let you go."

Harvey pulls Mike from the sofa and leads him into his bedroom. The sun is just beginning to set on the day as Mike stares out the balcony view of New York in Harvey's bedroom. He takes in the light leaving the day as Harvey slowly removes Mike's suit, leaving him in just his t-shirt and briefs. Harvey leads him to the bed and motions for him to lie on the left side. He quickly strips off his own suit and climbs in next to Mike, pulling him close and cuddling him chest to chest.

"Someday, we will make love in this bed, and I will kiss every one of your scars and you can tell me the story behind each of them, but for now…" Harvey moves Mike's underwear, exposing the scar. He slowly slides down the bed, bringing his face flush with the thin white lines. "For now, I get to take care of the scars that I know are mine." His lips gently brush against the raised skin.

He quickly moves up to meet Mike's lips with his own again.

"Thank you," Mike says softy. "Thank you for seeing beyond the