This song... As if the drive couldn't get any worse. As if he wasn't half ready to drive the car into the river. It would look like an accident – really he was surprised he hadn't done it accidentally already, what with how bad the rain storm was. It was windy, and he could barely see out the windshield. Half the time his tires spun and he didn't move an inch, other times he slid too fast to control. But he was sure as hell not about to pull over. No. But maybe it was a good idea to... Especially since the weather mixed with this song was about to drive him to insanity – pun intended. The damned words were hitting home in the most brutal way.

Tonight I've fallen and I can't get up
I need your loving hands to come and pick me up
And every night I miss you I can just look up
And know the stars are holding you – holding you – holding you tonight

Goddamn it. He was a mess.

Angrily he slammed his thumb into the power button on the stereo. He was not equipped to deal with this. Not now. Probably not ever. He hadn't exactly thought this part through. It had just been a little fight – some words said that weren't meant – but it was enough. Rachel left him, finally letting the fraud that he was get between them. He'd gone to Harvey (sober might I add, yes, he was going to be healthy about it and ask for a boy's night). They'd gotten to talking. Harvey hadn't meant what he said, about understanding why she didn't want to be around him. Mike had mentioned how Scottie had left for the same reason, and that they were never going to escape it and no wonder Scottie left. Harvey obviously took offense – defending himself against the salt in the still stinging wound. He'd told Mike that Rachel was better off; she didn't need the fraud in her life. He hadn't meant it the way Mike took it – that much was obvious from the way he looked at him right after, as soon as he'd realized what he'd said. But it was too late. Mike had already lost it. It wasn't his fault – he was still mourning his dead relationship. He said Harvey was right, everyone was better off without their lives being held over their heads every goddamned day.

And now here he was.

Driving down who knows which street in the middle of who knows where. He was going to start over. It's not like he was really leaving much behind. He hadn't exactly said goodbye to Donna – but he wasn't sure if she'd even look at him; her and Harvey were a package deal. And he certainly didn't have Harvey anymore. No, he was alone. Completely and utterly. He'd call Jonathan in the morning with his resignation. Right now he just needed to focus on the road that he couldn't see.

But damn that song for playing in his head! It was bad enough it was on the radio; now it was taunting him from the one place he couldn't hide from. God, it hurt. Ok. Right. Maybe he should pull over. He couldn't drive in this condition. In these conditions.

He pulled over to the side of the road; not knowing exactly where that was. Breathe, he told himself, and he took his own advice. Deep breath in through the nose, hold, release slowly through the mouth, repeat. Breathe, he whispered in his head like a mantra. He tried to let the sounds of the rain on the roof drown out his other thoughts. He could relax. Sure. He was a big kid; not like he hadn't ever lost anything before. Ok. Deep breaths. Deep... breaths... What was that light? He blinked through the window, staring straight into the rain smudged illumination, and realized all too late what it was.

Shit.

He tried to put the car in gear, but he'd waited too long. Pulling his hands up over his face, his car took the impact head on.

Darkness.

Spots.

He was seeing spots.

White...

An airbag.

Right. He was in his car. There was... right. There was a light and he... Ok. Ok.

He pushed the bag out of his face; coughing slightly as white powder fell into his mouth. Or was he coughing because his lungs were on fire? Yeah. Yeah, that might have been it.

His face hurt. The bag must have hit him pretty hard – or no, wait, no there's something else there... something...

And good god what was that sound? He groaned as the sound of metal slicing metal pierced through his brain and settled like a knife in his head. Make it stop! He cursed internally, trying to crawl away from the attacking noise, but was halted immediately by a locked strapped across his chest. He fumbled for the buckle, but lurched his hands back up to cover his face when suddenly he was being sprayed by ice cold water.

"Don't worry, sir, we're going to get you out." Who..?

He was released from the seatbelt suddenly and firm hands were pulling him from his seat. The cold hurt and he wanted nothing more than to get back into the car and sleep – wait out the storm.

"What's your name?" Oh, this voice was much nicer. Yes, he liked this voice.

"M..." he mumbled, head lolling to the side as he was lifted onto some strange surface.

"Mike Ross."

"Mike Ross?" She asked, hesitantly, and then with more confidence she repeated – to him now, "Mike Ross. Mike, can you tell me what happened?"

"I... was..."

"He's going to need a blood transfusion. Mike, can you tell me where you were going?"

He was conscious enough to know that she was trying to keep him awake – didn't she know he just wanted to sleep? He was also conscious enough to feel himself being strapped back down. No, he thought miserably. He'd just escaped from a seatbelt! But before he could register it, they were moving, and all hope for escape was lots. The girl was still speaking to him, but between the drowsiness, the sound of the rain, and the soothing vibrations from the moving vehicle, he just couldn't bring himself to focus.

Something was strapped over his face, but he didn't care. Whatever it was, it made everything seem great.

"Mike, you with me? How old are you?" The voice grew farther away. "Is there an emergency number in his phone?"

The vehicle went over a bump, and suddenly he couldn't feel anything anymore.

"Mike! Mike? Mike!"

"Mike!"

Harvey?

"Mike, wake up!" Something was slapping his cheek.

He groaned, sitting up. "Harvey," he muttered, bringing himself up in his bed. "How did you get in here?"

The man chuckled. He was in his usual attire; twelve thousand dollar suit that made him look godly, and hair slicked back. "Same way you did." He pulled his chair closer and took Mike's hand. "You were in a pretty bad car accident, Mikey." He said easily, as if he'd read it from a textbook.

"Oh." He thought for a moment; taking in the strange light in the room and the calm smile on his ex-boss' unperturbed face. "Am I dead?" He asked, knowing that that could be the only reasonable explanation.

He chuckled again; rubbing his thumb across the top of the younger's hand. "Almost," his voice was gentle as he tilted his head to the side, looking Mike over like he was a painting and he was seeing him for the first time.

"Are you dead?" He could feel his panic at the thought – although if he were to die, wouldn't it be great if he were at least with his best friend?

"Not today," his smile broadened, giving the hand in his a tight squeeze.

"Oh..." He thought again. "You must be here so that I can tell you how sorry I am so that I can die in peace and not haunt you." He smirked, shifting to get more comfortable.

Harvey rolled his eyes. "No, I'm here to save your ass. As usual."

They both laughed at this. "I miss you."

"I know." There was a strange twinkle in his eyes that Mike had never seen before – or if he had, he hadn't recognized it until now.

"So what happens next?"

"Well, this is the part where you don't die."

Mike considered this. "How do I do that?"

"You just do," the older man shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Otherwise how are you going to tell me how sorry you are?"

"I thought I just did."

Harvey grinned, shaking his head. "No, Mike. Wake up, and then tell me again."

Mike nodded. It didn't count here.

"Now Mike," he started. "Just breathe. Ok? Remember to breathe."

He nodded.

"Breathe... atta boy... Keep breathing..."

"Breathe! Breathe! Breathe, kid, breathe!" That wasn't Harvey's voice... "Breathe—we've got him! There ya go, kid, you keep it up now!"

Where was he? Oh god it was bright in there. He tried to squeeze his eyes against the white light, but only managed to turn his eyelids an angry red. Good god it hurt! Everything hurt! Jesus...

"Breathe, damn it, Mike! Turn up the oxygen. Good man, keep breathing. There ya go."

And everything went black.

All he was aware of was that he was very calm. Everything was so peaceful here... He felt like he was floating. He didn't wonder where he was, or what he was doing, or what was happening. He just knew somehow that everything was ok. He was ok. Harvey was ok. Everything was perfect, and he was at peace.

Well, he could have been at peace if it weren't for all this god awful noise! The calm was ripped away from him as noise flooded his ears painfully. He groaned.

"Mike?"

His eyes shot open. Where... Guess the peace is over. All the pain he'd suffered in life put together was nothing compared to this. He felt like he'd been trampled by elephants, and then had his lungs filled with acid. He groaned again.

"Mikey!" That voice again... He was trying to find the peace again, but for some reason, that voice made him want to stay and suffer through. He didn't want that voice to sound so worried. Carefully, he opened his eyes, coming back to reality.

"Harv..." He ground out, choking on his words and then groaning again at how bad it hurt to try to breathe.

"Mikey... you were in an accident."

He nodded, regretting it immediately. Did everything have to hurt?

"I thought..." the voice sounded broken. He clung to consciousness furiously – he had to take this person's pain away. Who was it? "I thought... forget what I thought. Mike, I'm so sorry." Oh right, Harvey.

He mm'ed in response, not risking the pain speaking brought again.

"You're going to be here for a little while, but I'm going to stay with you, ok? The doctor says you're going to be fine." He sounded more like he was assuring himself than the kid half alive in the bed. Mike smiled at this.

"I'm sorry..." He breathed, lips barely moving, but the hand that held his gave a squeeze. Had he been holding his hand the whole time? "I miss you..."

"I know, buddy. Me too." Fingers ran through his hair in a way that could never have been so comforting as it was right then. "Go back to sleep." And Mike was all too happy to oblige.