A/N: Hello lovelies! I know I have a ton of fics going on right now, but this one is all blocked out and I'm excited to get it out there! *blush* Hope you like it! Tell me what you think?:) PS, I can't decide if I want to try my hand at an 'M' rated title – if you catch my drift – so opinions please? M or T... :S

For You to Crawl

He was going to be late. Harvey had finally agreed to go to dinner with him, and he was going to be late. He checked his watch for the nth time since the light had turned red, mentally slapping himself for not having called a cab. Ray had of course driven Harvey – and not Mike since Harvey was meeting him after a meeting across town – and Mike had of course grabbed his bike and pedaled off into the dim twilight. It hadn't seemed like it would be an issue at the time, but now he was frustrated as hell with himself. For such a beautifully gifted brain, he was such an idiot sometimes. Not to mention that he was nervous as hell. Sure, it wasn't a date, but it wasn't exactly casual either. It had been three months since the first time Mike had directly asked him to go to a restaurant after work. He was almost positive that the only reason the man had even agreed to go was to get Mike to stop nagging – although it might be his good mood in knowing that Louis wasn't riding their asses anymore – but he was still strangely hopeful. Not that Harvey had ever shown any interest in the past. More times than not he'd showed Mike that he might possibly "care" on some level or another – a word that still lacked definition between them.

7:48. He had twelve minutes to get there without being late by normal standards. Of course, by Harvey standards, he was already eighteen minutes late, but he'd choose to not linger on that. Still, there was absolutely no way in hell that he was going to arrive on time on the normal standard either – not that he didn't try. It was probably that he was so panicked over the thought of being late and ruining his long awaited dinner that he hadn't noticed that there were three unkempt men standing in his path. Although he swerved out of the way just in time, he'd already ridden right into the danger zone.

"Sorry!" He shouted over his shoulder as he continued pedaling up to the next light, hearing, but not listening to the angry hollers behind him. Instead, he focused his energy in swinging himself off of his bike before it came to a complete stop, and chaining it up to a post standing just a few meters away from the restaurant. 7:58. Somehow, he had made it. His guardian angels must have been watching out for him. He was smiling grandly, although panting heavily as well, as he hurried towards the elegant glass doors sat in the center of an elegant glass wall. He was barely a few steps away, arm already stretched out expectant for the handle, when he was suddenly on the ground on the wrong side of the sidewalk. He didn't understand what had happened at first; he sat there, dazed, deciding where he was before he noticed the men standing around him.

"You think you can run over my boy and get away with it, punk?" A gruff, angry voice that reminded him of Trevor's drug dealing days growled from above him.

"What? I – I didn't," he spluttered, trying to right himself, but was aggressively pulled to his feet, and then into the air before he could manage anything.

"You calling me a liar?"

"Well if the shoe fits." Why couldn't he just keep his damn mouth shut for once? He could almost see Harvey shaking his head in the back of his mind. Had the man taught him nothing? Aside from: do as I say, not as I do, of course.

The menacing rumble from the brute who was manhandling him told him that no, no he hadn't learnt a thing. He found himself both pleading that Harvey was seeing what was happening and coming to his rescue, but also that the man was very, very far away from this seemingly violent trio. The two largest had thick beards and bandanas, crooked noses – probably from being broken too many times – and angry tattoos. It wasn't lost on him that the fists wrapped on his collar had the words "HATE" and "FUCK" written on the knuckles in a dying green colour. The other was smaller, less lean, not as tall, and had no hair at all – no eyebrows, no eyelashes, nothing. He too had multiple tattoos that acted as sleeves, but they were also visible across his chest where they read "GOD IS GLORY" and strange mark he didn't recognize under his eye, that somewhat resembled a bullet. The strangest thing about this man though, was that one ear was pierced crudely, and the other ear was completely missing.

He wasn't at all surprised to find himself in an alley, slammed against an old rusted and very slimy dumpster. He also wasn't surprised that he was being threatened by all three men who had gathered in a very tight triangle around him, leaving him absolutely no room to move or breathe. Not that he wanted to breathe; between the dumpster and the roughed up men, the smell wasn't all too appealing.

"Now, you've given my friend some emotional trauma from being hit with your little girl bike over there." The second bearded man said, breath curling around Mike's nose uncomfortably. "You'd better pay up to pay for some therapy, boy." They sniggered as he reached for Mike's jacket.

"I don't have anything on me." He deadpanned, seeming more bored than anything, although his heart was racing a mile a minute in his chest.

There was a heavy banging sound as a fist collided with Mike's stomach, knocking him backward into the steel wall behind him with force enough that dust rose up from beneath the thing. He coughed, hunching over as the fist removed itself, and gasped for air that wouldn't come.

"Better pay up," the bald man snarled, voice smooth and ominous; a telltale of the horrible things he wouldn't mind doing to his newest victim.

Mike was too busy searching for oxygen to respond, and was met with a knee to the groin as punishment. The scream that wouldn't form was caught in his throat, strangling him from his new place on the cold damp concrete. Or for all he knew, it was the heavy hands of one of the men taking away any chances of ever breathing again. For a second, a voice in his head scolded him once more not hailing a cab, but the voice was lost and forgotten when a weighty boot collided with the side of his ribs. He was seeing large white spots now, coating his vision and kindly replacing the loutish faces above him. They were still speaking, but he didn't know what they were saying now. He was just trying to focus his mind to think of something better – anything better – to distract him from the pain of not breathing, and this new, searing pain that seemed to radiate from everywhere all at once. The last thing he was before everything went dark was Harvey smiling at him, an amused twinkle in his coffee coloured eyes.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! You can expect another chapter to follow soon! But for now, penny for your thoughts?:)