A/N: Random one-shot I got an idea for when I saw this prompt online: After witnessing a terrible car wreck, a young man must confront the buried childhood memories of his own parents' demise - I thought it just fit so well, considering what happened to Mike. So I wrote it... What is wrong with me? Why do I love to write hurt!Mike?

Thanks to DaniBD for betaing!

Disclaimer: I don't own Suits. If I did, I could never bear to actually SPOILERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR RRRRRR FOR THE 2x09 ... kill Grammy Ross flasjflkasjflkajsdf no.

Read and reviewww :)

I'm crying out, I'm breaking down

I am fearing it all, stuck inside these walls

Tell me there is hope for me

Is anybody out there listening?

Can't you hear my call?

Are you coming to get me now?

I've been waiting for you to come rescue me

I need you to hold

All of the sadness I can not, living inside of me

- I'm in Here by Sia

It was raining. Mike stared through the rain as it hit the town car's windows, out at the mass of dark umbrellas moving along the sidewalk on the other side of the sea of yellow taxis. Everything was a little blurry, disfigured from the water smeared over the glass. He wasn't fond of driving in the rain, but Harvey wasn't about to let him walk to the meeting so he didn't have much of a choice. He simply stared at the passing buildings and listen to his music in an attempt to distract himself.

He heard Harvey sigh and turned to see the older man checking his watch for the hundredth what he could tell, they were a few blocks away from the company's headquarters and would no doubt be late. Damn traffic. He flinched as various taxi drivers honked loudly at the slow cars ahead, cuing Mike to turn up his music as the series of horns went off around them. Soon enough they were driving along again, Mike grinned as he texted Rachel, though it was quickly wiped off of his face when the car came to a sudden halt. The associate lurched forward, but was quickly held back when his seat belt tightened. He could hear the sound of screeching tires, followed by a loud crash that caused him to jump and nearly drop his phone.

"What the hell?" Harvey muttered, leaning over to look out the front window as he rubbed his right shoulder.

"Are you two okay?" Ray called back to them, sounding worried.

"Yeah, we're fine back here, Ray." He glanced at his associate who had a slight panicked expression as he too massaged his shoulder. "What happened?"

"Accident. We were almost right in the middle of it!"

Mike took a shaky breath and unbuckled his seat belt as he strained to see out the front window. It was still raining pretty hard, making it difficult to see clearly. But the young man managed to make out a taxi stopped in front of them in the intersection. A large, white paint van had crushed most of the right side of the vehicle, obviously after speeding through a red light. Mike squinted, trying to see better. He was surprised that no one seemed to be leaving their cars, though he was sure some people had to be calling 911. Hesitantly, he opened the car door, stepping out into the rain.

"What the hell are you doing?" Harvey snapped, glaring at him.

He didn't reply, just kept walking toward to collision. As he approached, he could see the blood on the backseat's right window, but he couldn't see the front's. Mike held his breath, trying to keep the panicky feeling away.

Screeching tires. Burning rubber. A loud crash. The smell of gasoline.

He shook his head, leaning forward toward the window. All he could see was a young woman, her head leaning against the broken window. He grimaced, wanted to turn around and be sick.

"Ma'am?" he said quietly, though he knew she was dead. He shook his head again as more memories came back.

Eleven-year-old Mike Ross whimpered, looking around the dark car in a daze. He twisted, trying to get out of his jammed seat belt but to no avail.

"Mom? Dad?" he said hoarsely, reaching forward to his father in the front seat. His whole body hurt but he had to. Carefully he poked at his dad's shoulder, throwing himself back suddenly when his head simply slumped to the side.

"Dad! Mom?" he cried loudly.

"Dad? Mom?"

Mike snapped out of his thoughts, his brow furrowing. It had sounded so real for a moment. The accident…it was just like before, and he swore he could almost hear his own words from that night. As he made his way around to the other side to check on the driver, a few others stepped out from their cars to check on the van driver.

"Mom!" a strangled sob came from the back seat, causing Mike to nearly jump out of his skin.

There was no way that had just been him… The lawyer peered into the backseat, his eyes widening immediately.

A little boy, about nine or ten sat there, struggling with his seatbelt as he sobbed loudly, glancing at the front seat where a man's body was slumped to the side, then to the woman next to him. Mike quickly pulled at the door handle, cursing when he found that it was still locked. The boy turned quickly, his familiar blue eyes were wide with fear.

"It's okay, we're going to get you out," Mike said through the glass.

The boy stared at him before trying to move closer to his mother. He turned back to her, shaking her shoulder as he began to cry again.

Mike glanced around, feeling panicked again as the smell of gasoline seemed to grow stronger. He needed to get that kid out of there.

"Mom! Mom, wake up!" he sobbed, ignoring his own wounds, his own pain. "You have to wake up! Somebody, help!"

"Somebody, help! There's a kid in here!" he shouted in a shaky voice. All he could remember was how horrible it had been when he was trapped. He wanted that kid out of the cab as soon as possible.

Mike was shaking as he looked around. It was too much, too familiar. He struggled to keep from puking at the mix of retched scents filling the air. He wanted to shut his eyes and run away, get rid of the images of blood and feeling of the pain. But he couldn't…he couldn't leave that little boy in there.

"Mike?" he heard Harvey calling him but refused to turn as he continued to search for something to break the window with.

"Someone help! Th-there's a kid in here!" he cried out again.

"Mike, what the hell are you doing over here?" his boss snapped when he finally reached him.

"H-Harvey, there's a kid in the cab…I c-can't get th-the door open. I don't th-think the k-kid gets that he needs to un-unlock it. He m-might be in shock," he rambled.

Harvey quickly placed his hands on his associate's shoulders, holding him still. There was a glint of panic in the younger man's eyes and he didn't seem quite there. Harvey shook him slightly, prompting Mike to look at his boss.

"Mike, you need to breathe. Calm the hell down."

"I can't! I'm- He's trapped. I-I've gotta do something, Harv-"

"Calm. Down," Harvey repeated, cutting him off. He glanced over to the paint van hopefully. "Stay here and don't do anything stupid."

Mike nodded, watching as his boss jogged over to the van, trying to control his breathing.

"Mom, Dad, wake up! Please, wake up! Don't go!"

Mike looked around, breathing heavily. As the stench of gasoline began to overwhelm him, giving him a headache, he realized he had to get out of there. He pulled furiously at the tight seatbelt, crying out at the pain it caused him. Somehow he managed to twist out of it, the instinct for survival taking over. The front of the car was smoking; Mike's heart raced at the smell and when flames erupted from the hood he cried out in horror.

He hit the window with his little fists, tried opening the door, shouted for help but nothing seemed to work. He was trapped. He was alone. He was going to die. The realization hit him like a punch in the gut and he was sick on the car floor. As more of the car seemed to become engulfed in flames, he thought he heard another car, then running footsteps.

"There's a kid in here!" a man's voice shouted.

Mike looked up through his window, coughing violently. A man stood outside, looking around frantically. Suddenly he was gone, causing the eleven-year-old to lose hope all over again. It was so hot. He couldn't breathe, his entire body ached, and the horrible, terrifying smell of death surrounded him.

When the man reappeared, the waved at the boy to move back. "Get away from the window!" he shouted. "Cover your head!"

He nodded halfheartedly and did as he was told. The sound of shattering glass surrounded him and when he looked up, the man reached into the broken window.

"C'mon, hurry up."

Mike crawled forward as quickly as an injured child could and was hauled out of the window. The man quickly got away from the car, carefully holding the boy in his arms. When Mike looked back over, half-expecting to see his parents also getting out of the vehicle, the car was suddenly engulfed in flames.

"No!" he screamed. "Mom! Dad!"

"Mike! Get out of the way," Harvey's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

He glanced over to see the front of the car suddenly catch fire. Oh, God. No. The older man lightly shoved Mike away from the window and shouted something to the boy inside. The next thing the associate heard was the sound of shattering glass. He jumped forward, surprising his boss when he bumped into him, reaching into the car to help the little boy out.

"But my mom and dad!" he cried, clinging to Mike. "Th-they're dead."

The front of the car was filled with a bright, orange and yellow wall that was quickly making it's way to the back of the vehicle. Harvey ordered his associate back to the town car, wanting to be as far away from the cab as possible in case the fire got worse. More and more people were backing away, a few of them dragging the paint van driver who was surprisingly okay for the crash he'd caused.

Mike held the little boy in his arms, carrying him away from the car. He jogged over to the Ray's car, opening the door and sitting the boy down. The associate stood up as the sirens neared, giving him a small sense of relief. The boy was completely silent as he stared straight forward. His blonde hair was damp and clinging to his forehead. Mike knelt down in front of him, glad that the rain had turned into a light drizzle by that point.

"Where does it hurt?" he asked quietly.

The boy's glazed eyes stared straight past Mike, but he seemed to hear him at least. He pointed to the left side of his forehead, his left shoulder, and left forearm and wrist. They were probably wounds from when he'd been thrown around a bit on impact. Mike could already see the blood from a cut through his wet hair, and gently pushed it away to see how bad. He took of his damp tie and lightly pressed it against the wound, muttering an apology when the child winced.

"What's your name?" Mike glanced over, happy to see the nearing ambulance.

"Jake." His voice was quiet, almost inaudible.

"Hi, Jake," Mike attempted to make his tone lighter, a bit happy. "My name's Mike."

The paramedics went to the people in the vehicles first, while Mike saw a nearby man point in his direction. One of them ran over to join him. The paramedic ushered Mike to the side, kneeling in front of the boy to give him a once-over. Jake quietly answered her many questions as the waited for the police to clear the traffic around them so they could get him to the hospital more easily. Apparently the kid's name was Jake Moreau, he was nine years old, and he and his parents had been on their way to the airport to pick up his big sister, Gracie because she was finally moving back to New York after graduating from UCLA.

Mike wasn't even aware that Harvey had rejoined them, being too focused on making sure the boy was alright, until a young police officer told them they were free to go after he got their contact information; they'd need to give a statement at some point.

The associate tuned Harvey and Officer Blake out as a few paramedics finally managed to bring over a stretcher for Jake. Carefully they tried to get him to lie down on it, only to have him panic and thrash about, crying when they tried to strap him down so he wouldn't fall off.

"Jake, honey, it's okay. We're just going to take you to the hospital to make sure you're okay. You'll get to ride in an ambulance. Have you ever gotten to see the inside of an ambulance before?" one of the paramedics said calmly.

The boy whimpered and looked around. "Where's Mike? I want Mike!" he cried.

The associate and senior partner exchanged glances. Mike stepped over to the stretcher, looking down at the tear-stained face that looked back at him in desperation. He literally felt his heart breaking, knowing the painful look in Jake's eyes all to well. Help me, they seemed to say.

"I'm right here, kiddo."

Instantly, Jake grasped his hand tightly. "Don't go. Please, don't go."

The paramedics looked at each other worriedly, as Mike stared at them questioningly. They weren't really supposed to let him go with them, they usually would just tell him which hospital to go to, but none of them could find it in them to deny the boy who'd just lost his parents.

"Ma'am? I promise I'll stay out of your way, but I think I'll be able to keep him calm."

"Alright." The EMT nodded reluctantly as they began to wheel Jake toward to awaiting ambulance.

"Jake, I'm going to go with you to the hospital, alright? Just wait a moment though." The boy stared at him in horror as he stepped away for a moment. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Mike walked back over to Harvey, appearing conflicted. He didn't know what his boss would think about him ditching the meeting to go with a random kid to the hospital. Would he care? Would he let Mike go? Maybe… He'd surprised his associate quite a bit already, going out in the rain to help Mike rescue a little boy and quite possibly ruining his suit in the process. He really had no idea what reaction to expect.

"I have go with him, Harvey," he said quietly, running a hand through his wet hair. "I know…the meeting and all, but I can't leave that kid on his own. I went through the same thing when I was a kid and leaving him on his own right now, with a bunch of strangers, is the worst thing I could do. I know what he's going through better than anyone…"

Harvey was silent for a moment, examining his associate. He knew the kid's parents died when he was young but he'd never asked how. He would've been lying if he said it didn't stir some sort of emotion in him to think of a younger Mike, trapped in a totaled car with his dead parents. He barely managed to keep his expression emotionless.

"You've got blood on your shirt," he pointed out, nodding toward the new stains. "There's no way I'd let you go to the meeting looking like that anyway. Go."

Mike gave his boss a small, sad smile before jogging toward the ambulance where Jake waited for him.

Mike spent quite a few hours at the hospital with Jake Moreau, waiting for someone to go pick up his sister and bring her over. The doctors managed to fix him up pretty quickly. The total damage was a broken arm, small concussion, and a few cuts and bruises. Overall, he'd be fine…physically anyway. Mike assumed that the reason behind why he hadn't completely broken down yet was a mixture of the pain medication and the fact he probably hadn't really registered the day's events quite yet.

The kid tried to talk for a long time, but eventually his words began to slur as the pain medication began to take it's toll. Luckily, Grace, his older sister, arrived soon after. The young woman barely noticed Mike when she stepped into the room, though he took her arrival as his cue to leave.

"Don't leave…" Jake mumbled, gazing at him hopelessly.

"Your sister's here now. You'll be alright."

The boy shook his head, his lower lip quivering.

Mike reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a card. He stepped over, handing it to the child. "If you ever want to talk, feel free to call me. Okay?" He gave Jake a small smile, nodding in Grace's direction and left.

He was shocked to find Ray's town car waiting for him outside the hospital, Harvey leaning against the passenger door. Mike stood in the entrance for a while, brow furrowed as if he wasn't sure he was seeing correctly. Harvey was silent as well, hands in his pockets as he watched his associate impatiently.

"Are you going to stand there all day and stare at me like a lost puppy or are you going to get in the car?" Harvey spoke up finally.

"What are you doing here?"

"Giving you a ride back to your place. Were you planning on walking home like that?" Harvey pointed to the blood stain on his damp shirt, though also implying the fact that the kid looked like utter shit.

Mike's face was void of any emotion as he walked around the car and got into the back seat. He stared straight ahead for a long time, finding that words failed him. He was remembering how he'd freaked out a bit back at the accident, during his flashbacks. Instantly, he felt embarrassed.

"Sorry for…panicking so much earlier."

Harvey nodded, staring straight ahead as well. "I would've been surprised if you hadn't. Do you want to talk about it?"

Mike shook his head, biting his lower lip. His blue eyes were moist for a moment but he refused to acknowledge it.

"How's the kid?"

"Fine for now. When it really hits him though…" He shrugged. He remembered exactly how he'd felt when he was finally told that his parents were dead. Of course he'd already known, but to have it officially confirmed had been horrible. It reminded him of a quote by Lemony Snicket, 'It is like walking up the stairs…in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try to readjust the way you thought of things.' The feeling of knowing he actually was alone was possibly the worst thing he'd ever felt. And he hated to have to think about it because it meant he had to relive it.

The two were silent for the rest of the car ride to Mike's apartment. Mike was both glad and not taken aback when Harvey didn't push him to talk about what had happened. The older man simply said if he wanted to take a day or two off, to do so. Harvey justified the offer as simply not wanting his associate to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown at work. Mike declined however, wanting to return to normality as soon as possible.

Over the next few days, various co-workers - mostly associates with the exception of Rachel - asked about the incident. Mike simply told them that there had been an accident and he'd helped out. He didn't want to get into details and he sure as hell didn't want to sound like he was bragging about getting Jake out of the car.

"Heard you had a bit of a panic attack the other day, Ross," Gregory teased when he stopped in front of Mike's desk. A few of the associates had somehow heard about that part - Mike had absolutely no idea how - and had been bothering him every once and a while.

"Shut up, Gregory," he snapped, trying to focus on the contract he was proof-reading.

"Actually, I heard he saved a boy's life," a young woman's voice chimed in when the other associate didn't let up.

Mike glanced up from his work to see Grace Moreau standing in front of his cubicle. She smiled at him before turning to the other lawyer who'd been mocking Mike.

"He's pretty much a hero," she went on. "Don't you have something better to do? Like, I don't know, actually act like a lawyer or something?"

Gregory grimaced before turning on his heels and walking back to his own desk. Mike gave a sigh of relief as standing up.

"Thanks, I guess. But I could've dealt with him myself," Mike said, smiling back at her.

"Mhm, sure."

"So, what're you doing here? How are you? How's Jake doing?" he asked, ignoring ringing phone that was no doubt, Harvey.

"I'm good; as good as someone in my new position can be. And why don't you ask him yourself?" Grace stepped aside to reveal the nine-year-old who'd been somewhat hiding behind her.

"Hey, Mike!" he blurted, grinning widely. He held up his arm to the associate proudly. "Do you like my cast? It's green; that's my favorite color. Do you wanna sign it?"

The associate grinned at the boy, pleased to see that he seemed to be doing well. Mike nodded, picking out a black sharpie from his drawer and quickly signing, 'Mike Ross' on the boy's wrist. Jake looked at it and gave his rescuer a grin of approval, lightly blowing on the writing though it wouldn't have smeared anyway.

He and Mike talked for a little, discussing the Avengers movies enthusiastically. Grace laughed along, and when Jake decided he was hungry and wanted to go to McDonalds, Mike walked with them toward the elevator. While the nine-year-old jogged ahead of them, dodging various lawyers, paralegals, and clients, his sister and Mike followed behind.

"Thanks for coming to visit," Mike said politely after pressing the button for the elevator.

"It was Jake's idea. He kind of idolizes you now," she laughed. "But I wanted to thank you too. You saved my baby brother's life and I don't know how I could possibly repay you. Most people in your situation would've just let the paramedics take him and gone on with their lives…but you stayed with him. I'm just curious, but why?"

The associate swallowed, shoving his hands in his pockets. There was that question, asking him to explain himself. "My parents died in a car accident when I was about Jake's age. I didn't think it would be right to leave him on his own," he replied simply, giving no signs of continuing as his lips formed a tight line.

Grace nodded sympathetically. "You really are a hero, Mr. Ross."

"Mike. And I'm not…"

"Mike," she repeated. "I'm not exaggerating. I know this isn't really my business, but I think you should talk about what happened when you were a kid. I've found that talking can do you wonders."

Mike was somewhat taken aback by her suggestion, but found truth in it. He had never really talked to anyone about his own accident beside the various shrinks and social workers he'd been forced to converse with in the months following his parents' deaths. He'd thought he'd left that all far behind; he'd been doing so well. But this recent incident had only brought up old wounds and talking sounded nice.

Before he knew it, he was heading down the hall toward the senior partner's office. He didn't know why. Harvey seemed like the last person to talk to about something so tragic, but something else told Mike that he'd understand the pain he was feeling.

When he stepped into his boss' office, the man took a minute to look up from his laptop. He watched cautiously as the younger lawyer took a seat on the leather couch across from his desk. Mike rested his elbows on his knees, staring at his hands as he clasped them together. There was a string of silence but little tension between the two. After a while, Harvey stood up and made his way over to the associate, sitting on a chair opposite of him.

"I heard the kid and his sister were here."

Mike nodded.

"And you want to talk about it now." It wasn't a question.

"I guess it's time that I finally, face my demons. So yeah, I do."

Harvey leaned back in his seat, glancing over at his assistant and giving her a look as if to say, 'Don't let anyone interrupt,' before turning back to Mike.

"I was eleven when it happened," he began. "We were driving down some long stretch of road, heading home from visiting my grandparents. It was raining…"