Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews! Also just thought I'd throw this out here. This story is slash, or will be soon. I didn't put it in the summary cause I thought it was kinda obvious, but just making sure you guys understand that. ;) Also I do have a fic I've started in which Mike's a prostitute, it's not AU though and I'll post it here after I finish this monster. I seem to have a prostitution kink, then again these two make anything sexy so...

Disclaimer: Still don't own, still not rich. Nikki once again fixed all my tense issues. I'm not used to writing in the present tense, but my brain insisted on writing it this way. Enjoy!

It's another late night shift at the grocery for Mike. The same annoying elevator music they insist on pumping through the speakers is whining away as he absently flips a page of his book. He's brushing up on the new laws and cases that have come about since he passed the bar. Of course, he had promptly shredded his law degree and followed Trevor into a life of pot and beer, but he could still legally practice law. Being a lawyer or a paralegal would certainly pay the bills better than two or three minimum wage jobs. Besides, he is bound and determined to make Harvey give up his life as a high end hooker. After that, Mike will have to support them until he can get his roomy into a better line of work. Come to think of it, Harvey would probably make a better lawyer than Mike ever could. It has to be the slicked back hair and the 'I'm better than you could ever hope to be' air about him.

Images of Harvey in a suit float through Mike's mind and he sighs and turns another page. He has an uncanny ability to remember everything he's ever read, but he doesn't think it's that weird. He's been able to do it all his life and it's not like he's going crazy. A handful of people know about it and beyond the initial awe, they treat him the same. Besides, the only time it really comes in handy is when he's reading orders at the restaurant or taking an exam. Well that and studying, too.

The jangling of the old fashioned cow bell over the door makes him look up. A younger looking man wearing a coat walks in and gives a nod of greeting. Mike nods back and glances over his shoulder at the other cashier on duty. Mary's a young teen, probably working her way through her freshman year in college, but she's a wiz when it comes to restocking and organizing. There's a night manager and a janitor on duty, but they're the only night employees. There's five customers, give or take, roaming around, so it's not busy or anything. Then again, it's barely even midnight.

What he doesn't expect is Mary's startled half-gasp, half-scream. Mike turns quickly to see an older man with sunglasses and a cap wielding a metal baseball bat at her. His voice is rough and low, but Mike doesn't need to hear the words to know what the man wants. They weren't exactly trained for this. Sure, places like this get robbed occasionally, and they're told what to do, but its different when there's an actual weapon waived at you. The man takes a threatening swing, and Mary is cowering away and appears too terrified to work the register. Mike's altruistic tendencies are going into over drive and anger is right behind them, fueling his stupidity and courage.

"Excuse me." He says calmly and quietly, hands raised before the man even whirls around, ready to cave his head in.

"Give me the money." The man is definitely under the influence of something, if his slurred speech is anything to go by.

"Yes sir." Mikes opens the drawer and curses the store for not having silent alarms. He hopes the manager has been alerted by someone and has called the cops. Gritting his teeth and trying to too cringe when the man waves his weapon around a bit more, Mike empties the till and even puts it into a bag for the man. The idea is to appease him so he doesn't hurt anyone, but keep him around so he gets caught. That notion goes out the window as soon as the man sneers and turns back to Mary, demanding more money.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mike sees the man in the black jacket moving closer. They lock eyes and nothing needs to be said. Mike will distract the man, and they'll take him down together. He slowly moves around the belt in front of the register as to not startle the man. He knows he's been spotted when the bat arches back, getting ready to swing. He leaps for the weapon and knocks the man to the floor, getting a whack on his shoulder for his troubles. The following moments are a blur of flailing limbs, screams and the sound of metal clattering to the floor. The next thing Mike knows, he's crouching on the balls of his feet with the right side of his face throbbing, and two cops wrenching the man's arms back to handcuff them.

Shocked at what he's done, Mike lurches to his feet and stumbles backward using one sleeve to wipe the corner of his mouth. His heart is beating about twice as fast as it should be, and his breath is coming in short gasps. He distantly wonders if he's having some sort of panic attack, but then Mary is clinging to him in a hug, desperate for reassurance.

"M-m-mike. I t-t-thought h-he was g-going to k-kill me." She sobs into his shirt.

"Don't worry, there's no way we would've let that happen." He wraps an arm around her, just about as shook up. Their manager comes striding onto the scene, and Mike sends him a well earned glare. Luis is about as spineless as they come, and pedophile creepy, and obviously cares more about his own safety than that of his employees. But since he's the one that apparently called the cops, Mike's willing to forgive him this once.

"Ross, Haverty. The cops want your statements and you'll be checked out by the paramedics after that. I want the both of you available for phone calls tomorrow, but you can leave after you've been cleared. There's no reason for you to stay; I doubt you'll be able to function anyway." Luis sneers, thumbing his nose.

Mike's mildly insulted by that last statement, but he certainly is at least a little shook up. So he guides Mary outside to where an ambulance is pulling up, and a cop approaches them. It's nearly one in the morning before the cops let them go and EMS tells them they have nothing more than a few bruises. The suspect doesn't quite get off so easy and has to go to the hospital for stitches, but Mike can't find it in himself to care.

~~~OoOoOoO~~~

Perhaps deciding to bike home was not one of his better ideas. Mike nearly hits two fire hydrants, and barely dodges a cab in time. His heart is still racing, though he can't figure out why. He's calm and collected, despite his balance issues. The only answer is that he must be in shock. He doesn't even notice his hands are shaking until he's climbing the stairs to his apartment. He stumbles and reaches for the railing and his hands is shaking hard enough that he misses and nearly whacks his head. The realization the he's most certainly not fine seems to be all the catalyst he needs to break down completely. He drops his keys no less than four times before he can lurch into his apartment. He leans against the closed door, and the darkness inside only seems to freak him out more. He almost died… he could have died.

The shock and new flood of adrenaline leave his limbs heavy and numb. A litany of 'Oh my god' is on replay in his brain and it just won't stop. An embarrassing whimper escapes his lips and Mike can't help but think he's pathetic, letting something like a robbery with a baseball bat freak him out to this degree. He really wasn't in any danger, and yet the hysteria won't pay attention to his logic… He wants… no needs Harvey right now. The comforting presence of someone familiar to remind him that he's not dead. Only Harvey probably won't be home till closer t to three, or whenever his customers are done with him.

That doesn't stop a soft, hoarse sound from escaping his throat. "Harvey?" It's more of a plea than anything, but there's a faint rustling from somewhere and he calls out again. "Harvey!"

There must be something in his voice, because Harvey is suddenly there. Hair mused from sleep, and eyes wide in panic as he spots Mike huddled against the door. "What's wrong?"

His deep voice sends a shiver down Mike's spine, and he launches himself at his roommate. His hands desperately cling to Harvey's soft sleep shirt and he buries his face into the man's neck. He's shaking hard enough that there's no way to miss it and he's pretty sure he's babbling, but there's no stopping it until he calms down. There's warmth on his cheeks and as if he isn't embarrassed enough by his breakdown… Mike's sure he's actually crying.

After the initial shock, Harvey takes control and steers them to the couch. He pulls Mike down with him and sits there, not speaking, not trying false reassurances. He's just there and that's what Mike needs right now. He desperately clenches and unclenches his hands as the events of the night slam into his brain, and he knows he's never going to forget them. He's almost been caught by the cops while high before, but nearly being bludgeoned with a bat is sending him into a panic attack.

"Stop it and breathe." Harvey's command is sharp like a whip and Mike jumps. Yet like any other time the man orders him around in that tone, he can't help but obey.

Slowly, The shakes fade into tremors, and his breathing more or less returns to normal. Yet when Harvey makes to pull away, Mike lives up to the octopus metaphor his roommate's so fond of, and all but ends up in the man's lap.

"Hey, hey... I'm not going anywhere, just turning on the lamp."

A gold glow makes it through Mike's clenched eye lids, and he turns his face away. Gentle fingers tap his uninjured cheek. "C'mon kid, look at me."

"Not a kid." Mike mutters, but wipes his tears away and looks up at Harvey.

The man smiles gently before a dark look settles over his face. Fingers reach up to hover over what is going to be a nice bruise on the side of Mike's face. "What happened?" It no more than a low growl, but it doesn't faze Mike.

"You don't have to worry about it. The one on my shoulder hurts worse, but the paramedic said it wasn't that bad." Mike tilts his head at his roommate's seemingly odd behavior. However he quickly learns that admitting to more injuries is not something you should do around Harvey Specter. He yelps as his jacket is stripped off, and the first three buttons on his shirt are undone before he can protest.

Warm, calloused fingers gently run along the dark purple bruise, and Mike watches their every move. Harvey clearing his throat has the young man focusing back on those angry brown eyes. "I'll ask you again. What happened?"

Flashes of a crazed old man swinging the bat, and Mary's terrified face, make his breath hitch, and the tremors intensify for a split second… a split second and that's all that had separated her, or any of them from-

"Mike! Focus on me! Tell. Me. What. Happened." Harvey is using that tone of voice that means if he doesn't get answers soon, some one's going to pay.

Mike's blue eyes lock onto his friend's face, and he blurts out a garbled explanation. "There was a man, and a bat, and he was going to hurt Mary. I gave him what he wanted but he still had that... thing, and then people helped and the cops were there, and I had to ride my bike home. Then I almost fell and I freaked out and… and… Harvey… I think I'm still freaking out." He's probably crushing his friend's ribs, but at this point he doesn't care. "I could have died, oh my god Harvey. I could have died!"

"Michael!" Harvey grabs Mike's face between his hands and that shuts him up. "What are you talking about? Did someone mug you? Or you know…" His voice takes on a dangerous edge. "Force you to do anything.

"What?" Mike reels backward, "No!" It's only then he realizes what he must look like with wide, watery eyes and a bruised cheek, not to mention the fact his shirt is open. Despite the fact the last one is wholly Harvey's fault, he quickly button's it back up and takes a breath. "Some guy tried to rob the store with a baseball bat. He went after Mary and she was terrified so I got his attention and gave him what I had in my register but he turned on Mary again and I couldn't let him hurt her and me and another guy jumped him and I think I got whacked around a little. I don't remember much until the cops were there and Mary was crying and there were so many questions… don't kill me?" The look on his roommate's face is murderous, and Mike really doesn't want to go from one attempted murder to another.

"You're quitting that job. I tried to tell you that it was a bad idea, but you wouldn't listen." The older man hisses, tightening his grip on Mike's shoulders and making him wince.

"Harvey... I'm not going to quit! I need the money and I'm not going to let something like this get the better of me. I'm going back, even if it's just to face my fears." The last part is no more than a whisper, and Mike is speaking with more bravado than he feels.

"You could've been killed Mike!" Harvey's poor choice of words make them both blanch and he's quick to apologize. "Sorry. I was just… concerned."

A smile slowly spreads across Mike's face. "You don't have to say it. I know what you mean."

Harvey gives him a pointed glare and gently pries his arms loose and stands. "Get that smart ass look off your face. Are you sure the paramedics didn't find any hidden brain injury?"

"I'm fine Harvey, nothing more than bumps and bruises." Mike keeps the 'and psychological trauma' bit to himself.

"Do you think you'll be able to fall asleep?" Harvey looks doubtful as he asks, and Mike's about to agree, but yawns instead.

It's like he's gone from zero to sixty and slammed on the brakes again. His mind is turning sluggish and Mike knows the adrenaline crash is coming. Yet the tremors are returning now that he can't hold onto Harvey, and he knows he won't be able to sleep in a bed by himself. After his parents were killed in the car crash, it took him months before he could sleep in his own bed again. This wasn't near as bad, but he recognizes the feeling. How sad was it that a grown man couldn't handle his emotions and needed a human teddy bear to fall asleep?

A blushed tinges his cheeks red, and Mike stares down at his twitching fingers. "I… I don't… I can't…"

Harvey sighs and moves to stand in front of his friend, "Spit it out."

"I can't sleep alone!" Mike covers his mouth and hangs his head. Shame is trying to bury him and he can't look his roommate in the eye.

"Come on. I think we both need sleep before we can deal with this properly." Harvey reaches down and hauls Mike to his feet. He turns the lamp off and tows him down the short hallway before shoving him into his room. "Change."

"Harvey what-?"

"Change now."

Muttering something about pushy roommates with a voyeurism kink, Mike quickly strips and pulls on a shirt. He stares at his friend in confusion, self conscious in a pair of boxers and a shirt. "Now what?"

"Follow me." Harvey walks across the hall and into his own bedroom.

Mike's left hovering in the doorway. "Um what-?"

An arm grabs him and tosses him down onto the bed before Harvey pulls the covers back and slides in. "We're not sleeping on that rock you call a mattress. Now shut up and get comfortable and more importantly... sleep." The blond is already on his side and situated.

Mike blushes and scurries to get under the sheets, curling up on his side. "Whoa… your bed's so soft!" Embarrassment is temporarily forgotten as he all but melts into it. "So, how many people did you have to sleep with in order to- Ow!"

After giving Mike a swift elbow to the ribs, Harvey's arm returns to his side. "Sleep. I'll be here if you have a nightmare." His words aren't exactly reassuring, but Mike's been able to speak Harvey for a while now and the young man just grins.

"'Kay Harv." He settles down to try and sleep. Mike would be lying if he said he fell right to sleep. No, it takes him a good long while… actually, it takes Harvey getting fed up with Mike 'thinking too loudly' and basically spooning up behind him. As if that isn't going to fuel Mike's fantasies for the next few weeks…. Reguardless the familiar scent and body heat lulls him to sleep. Faint apparitions of nightmares, tickle his brain, but there's always a soft voice and soothing hand to chase them away and Mike somehow manages to sleep straight through the night and most of the morning. The bed is empty when he wakes up disoriented.

The night before comes flooding back as he shuffles to the bathroom to relieve himself and splash cold water on his face. The bruise on his cheek has darkened nicely and he winces when he prods at it. Groaning, he grinds his knuckles into his eyes and resists the urge to bang his head against the wall. Instead, he shuffles down the hall. Mike pulls up short when he sees Harvey calmly sitting at the dining room table reading the paper. He knows this is one of those self defining moments, where he decides whether to live his life in fear or not. Well, it feels like it anyway. Honestly, he doesn't give a shit, and he's still feeling a bit awkward about having shared personal bed space with Harvey and, you know, not doing it. Instead, he pads over and sits down, grabs the sports section, and settles in. It'll be weeks before he's completely over the incident, but Mike's getting the feeling he'll make it through just fine. Harvey won't settle for anything less.

Each chapter keeps getting longer... Anyway, you all got a taste of some angst and Harvey and Mike in bed together. The real plot will really get going in the next few chapters I hope. Don't worry the angst is coming! Please R&R