To Build a Home

Moving In

Chapter 3: Cough Syrup

Life's too short to even care at all

I'm losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control

These fishes in the sea, they're staring at me

A wet world aches for a beat of a drum

I'm waiting for this cough syrup to go down

From "Cough Syrup" by Young the Giant

"You want me to do what?" Harvey winced as he heard Mike shouting through the thin hospital walls. It had been a week since Edith's accident and she was being released from the hospital and into a rehabilitation center today. She had called Donna yesterday (the two of them were apparently new best friends after their lengthy phone conversation the other day dissecting the finer details of Harvey's character and personality) and asked Donna to tell Harvey to come pick Mike up at 5:00 today. And apparently Edith had waited until 4:57 (the present time) to tell Mike that he was moving in with Harvey for the next few months.

Mike was still shouting and Harvey couldn't make out the exact words but he thought he heard "this isn't fair!" which was a sentiment that he himself happened to share quite strongly with Mike. None of this was fair. But Harvey was the adult in this situation, so he couldn't go around shouting at injured old women. But he supposed Mike could get away with it and found himself silently cheering the kid on.

He wandered away to find a cup of coffee, figuring he'd let Edith deal with this tantrum. After all, she was the one insisting on this arrangement and Harvey's custodial duties didn't start for another 3 minutes. Let her deal with the angry teenager.

As he headed down to the cafeteria, he reviewed his mental checklist of things he needed to do before Mike moved in one last time. Donna had been having a ball with this whole situation the past few days and had bought him several books on raising children and child psychology. Harvey had staunchly refused to touch any of them, so Donna had instead taken to shouting random tidbits of parenting information and advice at him over the intercom every hour or so during the workday.

Most of it was complete nonsense that made Harvey want to jump out of his office window, ranging from "starve a cold and feed a fever, Harvey," to "the frontal lobe of the teenage brain isn't fully developed yet. Expect impulsiveness and poor decision-making," and worst of all, "Mike's only fourteen and he hasn't had a father figure around for a few years. You'll probably have to have The Talk with him, Harvey" (Harvey had gotten up and unplugged the intercom after this last comment). But overall, Donna had had some valid points in her advice. There were a lot of things he needed to buy, apparently. Like real food (he pretty much lived on take-out) and toiletries. And a bed, too. He had moved all of his stuff out of his mostly unused office to make a makeshift bedroom and had had a simple bed delivered yesterday. The kid would only be there for a few months, so there wasn't much point in going all out and getting rid of all of his office furniture. Most of it was now tucked away in Harvey's spacious bedroom.

Only a few months. This had become Harvey's mantra the past few days whenever he felt overwhelmed by the situation. It wasn't like he was Mike's father, after all. He just had to make sure the kid stayed alive for the next three months and then he never had to think about this whole mess ever again.

As he rode the elevator back up to Edith's floor, he checked his watch and groaned. 5:05. It was official; he was now Michael Ross's legal guardian.

(SUITS)

Mike was not pleased about this situation, to say the least. He had spent the first five minutes after Grammy broke the news to him pacing and ranting. That had lasted until he had chanced a glance at his grandmother and instantly lost steam and caved upon seeing her remorseful expression.