Here's a longer than usual chapter for you all! Thank you again to those who have reviewed! Hugs to all of you!

Harvey had come out of the elevators carrying the dusty box from the file room. He was planning on asking Donna to research what had been in the box. If anyone could find such an obscure list, it was his secretary. He sometimes allowed himself to entertain the idea that she was some sort of deity amusing herself on Earth by watching the greatness that was Harvey Specter.

He briefly wondered, as he always he did, if that theory was a bit too self-indulgent or perhaps egotistical, but then rationalized that he really was just that awesome.

Which is exactly why Harvey was unhappy to find himself holding a dusty, yellowed, filing box in an attempt to help someone who wasn't himself, Jessica, or a client.

He reminded himself again that, as a reflection of his own self, Mike's fragile mind definitely needed to be fixed so that Harvey's reputation wouldn't be tarnished.

With all these inner debates going on, Harvey barely registered that he'd walked nearly the whole way to his office already.

He looked over the top of the large box to see Mike talking with Rachel, looking in somewhat of a panic. This bothered him greatly. Not because Mike was panicked—that seemed to be an hourly occurrence—but because Mike was supposed to be sitting patiently in Harvey's office, under Donna's close scrutiny, and not out where anything bad could happen to or because of him.

"Harvey!" Mike called to him. Harvey growled at himself when he found his feet immediately marching over to Mike. His body just wasn't listening to him today. He had meant to call Mike over and tell him to follow, but instead he was walking over to the two of them like he was Mike's associate!

Harvey glanced at Rachel, who was quickly trying to cover her somewhat mischievous expression. "Rachel," he said, hoping to distract her from whatever she'd been saying to cause Mike's hand to start rubbing at his head again. "So sorry to interrupt, but I'm afraid I need my associate."

Rachel looked like she was about to protest but Mike beat her to it with a traditional Mike-esque response: "I thought you were the great Harvey Specter, and you didn't need anything." Harvey would have been angry, but he was too busy watching Mike's face openly portray the pain and confusion he was experiencing. He looked like he was going to pass out, and Harvey realized that would be even worse than Rachel finding out he didn't remember anything.

Harvey decided a hasty retreat was needed, so he rudely shoved the hated box at Mike and said, "Let's go, hotshot," in a tone that brooked no argument. Hopefully Rachel interpreted that as Harvey being mad at Mike, and they could make a quick escape. Unfortunately for Harvey's self-image, his plan was only slightly ruined by the cloud of dust that billowed up like a miniature mushroom cloud from the box. Harvey and Mike both sneezed.

He turned swiftly, knowing Mike would follow him, amnesia or no. The kid was amazingly still loyal to Harvey even without his memories. If Harvey allowed himself to feel, he would be proud to have Mike as his associate. But Mike could only stay his associate if he had his memories. Harvey walked a little faster.

When he approached Donna's desk, she gave Mike an expectant look. "Where's my coffee?"

Mike looked even worse than he already did after Donna's question. Harvey knew her well enough to know that she wasn't being serious, but Mike—especially this Mike—didn't know that.

"I'm sorry. I forgot it." Harvey noted that he looked like somebody had told him he was about to be eaten alive by a large python.

Donna looked at him in pretend irritation. "You seem to be doing that a lot lately."

Normally, Harvey would find her deadpanned quips entertaining, but he was still angry at her for not keeping her promise. So before Mike could respond, he cut in with, "You were supposed to be watching him, not letting him run gallivanting off to flirt with pretty paralegals."

She gave him a weighing look. "I didn't let him do anything. He ran off after hugging Kyle. I only wish I'd gotten a picture." He heard Mike say something behind the box about Rachel being pretty, but Harvey was too busy trying not to laugh at what was the second image in his head of Mike hugging Kyle. He coughed and gave Donna a pointed look.

Then he noticed that Mike was juggling the box between his hands in what appeared as an attempt to scratch his head. And he still looked just short of faint.

Harvey opened the door to his office, stole the box from Mike's arms, and gave his associate a shove in one swift motion.

"Donna," he said quietly, placing the dusty box on her desk as she glared at the scuff marks it would leave. "I need you to find out what files were supposed to be in this."

"Is it about Mike?" she said, her tone becoming truly serious for perhaps the first time that day.

Harvey just nodded.

"Sure thing, boss," she said and Harvey all but jogged into his office.

Mike was simply standing there with his eyes shut in pain, so Harvey steered him once again to his couch. His associate immediately set his head in his hands and fell onto the arm, shrinking inward.

Harvey grimaced at what he knew he had to do. Pain had meant that Mike was remembering, or about to remember, and Harvey needed Mike—his Mike—more than anything right now, however loathe he was to admit it.

Harvey stood from his place on his couch and put a hesitant hand on Mike's shoulder. The eyes that blinked up at him were red from pain and maybe fear, and for once, Harvey just let his emotions show, trying to comfort his associate.

"Mike."

"You can't be real." Mike's response seemed awed, but he never took his eyes off Harvey's.

"I need you to remember," Harvey said slowly, forcing his voice to be steady and calm.

Mike shook his head vigorously, scrunching his eyes and withdrawing into a curled ball in the corner of the couch.

"It hurts!" he whined.

Harvey took a deep breath. He didn't want to be the one who had to do this, but he didn't trust anyone else with his associate right now. He could remember all sorts of things that were best left unsaid to unsuspecting ears.

"I know it hurts, Mike. But I need you to tell me what happened in the file room."

Mike's pained expression turned to anger in a flash, and he snapped at Harvey with a hissed, "I don't remember!"

Harvey was amazingly starting to feel guilty. He didn't like to feel guilty. Angry, betrayed, he could take, because Louis was usually the cause of those emotions when Mike was involved, and all he had to do was chew out Louis or steal clients from him. But here, standing in this room, being the bad guy to his own—and for once, undeserving—associate, Harvey wanted to punch himself, if it would take some of the guilt away.

He took another deep, steadying breath. "Try and work backwards. Tell me what you do remember in the file room. Take your time."

Mike fidgeted, still angry, but he opened his eyes again and stared straight at Harvey, like he was afraid he'd disappear if he stopped looking.

"I—there were files everywhere. I was leaning against the shelf. Then…then…"

He picked himself up from the couch and stood, his eyes finally ripping themselves from Harvey's gaze as he stared unfocused at the view from Harvey's office. Harvey kept a steadying hand on his shoulder, though, afraid Mike might collapse any minute.

"Mike?" he tried.

"I was trying to get the box down, when…"

Harvey tried not to sigh too loudly. This is where they were before he'd been interrupted by Jessica.

"When?" he prompted patiently.

"Harvey?" Mike was now looking at him, blinking with raised eyebrows at the hand Harvey had on him. Harvey realized he was probably gripping it just a bit too tightly, so he loosened his fingers, but didn't remove the hand.

"Why are we—what's going on?" Mike started to look around like he had no clue what had happened.

"Mike?" Harvey finally asked.

"Am I being fired or something? Or am I dead? Because I don't think the real Harvey would look like that." Mike's suspicious gaze loosened the knots in Harvey's shoulders, which he hadn't realized he had before then. Harvey couldn't help the small relieved laugh that forced itself from his throat.

"Oh, thank God," Harvey managed. Mike looked around suspiciously.

"Okay, what's so funny? Is it my tie?" He tugged on the fabric, which Harvey finally noticed wasn't as skinny as his usual ones. Harvey started to chuckle. "C'mon Harvey, Rene gave me this one. It can't possibly be too skinny."

Harvey couldn't help the laughter. What's wrong with me? he thought hysterically. He couldn't stop!

"Ooookay. Well, I'll just go, and—yeah," And Mike started to walk away.

Harvey gripped his shoulder tighter, tugging Mike back until he fell on Harvey's couch.

"Oh, God. I am being fired," he said as he sank into the couch that moments ago he'd been trying to curl into.

"You're not being fired," Harvey finally managed to get out.

"Sooo…" Mike asked.

"The files," Harvey tried, hoping silently that it wouldn't cause Mike to relapse.

Mike shrugged like he had no idea what Harvey was talking about.

"Adrian Walker's files?" Harvey asked him.

Mike winced, and Harvey subconsciously leaned forward. "Okay, ouch."

"Do you remember getting them?"

Mike nodded, one hand pressed to his head, the other nervously drumming on the leather upholstery. "Yeah, I'm never going down there again, by the way. I think Louis's mother really does live down there! And I had to—hey! Someone hit me!"

Harvey smiled. They were finally getting some answers, and Mike seemed to have reverted or remembered. He didn't really care about the terminology, so long as his associate was back to being useful.

Mike, however, seemed to take Harvey's smile for something else, because he glared at him. "Glad to see you're happy that I was assaulted."

"Assaulted?" Harvey asked.

"Well, hit—you know what I meant!"

"You're right, I am happy. Now tell me who hit you," Harvey said smugly.

But Mike was frowning at him now. "I don't remember." And Harvey's shoulders tensed again. He was really starting to hate that phrase coming from his associate's mouth.

"Harvey, why don't I remember?" Mike was rubbing that spot on the back of his head again, and Harvey had a sinking feeling.

"Calm down, Mike," Harvey placated.

"Harvey? There was something I had to tell you! I remember now! Not what I had to tell you, but that I had to tell you something!" He winced, shutting his eyes in even more of a pained look than all those that had come before. "My phone!"

"Your phone? What about your phone? Mike?" Harvey found himself kneeling before Mike. When had that happened?

"My phone? Oh yeah, I can't find that either," Mike said, and Harvey knew he was gone again. "But Kyle found my wallet for me! He's a really nice guy, you know?"

Harvey lurched to his feet. He was angry, and he didn't care if this version of Mike knew it or not. "Just get out. Go to your desk and don't get into anymore trouble. I can't look at you right now."

Mike frowned. "I'm sorry, I want to help! I just don't—remember!" He was standing now, shouting at Harvey, and Harvey just couldn't take it.

"Out!"

Mike swallowed loudly and looked like someone had just told him his grandmother had died, but he trudged out of Harvey's office, and Harvey sat down on his couch heavily, head in hands. He'd been so close.

Hope that satisfied you all until chapter 12! Reviews, please? :P