Mike awoke the next day in a queen sized bed. A quick glance around the room told him he was in a hotel.
He sat upright, confused by his surroundings. How did he get here? Staring around the room, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes, it occurred to him that he might not have come here alone.
"Rachel," he mumbled to himself as he jumped out of bed. He immediately regretted the sudden movement, as a jolt of pain shot through his head.
"Ow!"
He reached back to touch the back of his head only to find both dried and fresh blood. What exactly happened last night? He scanned the room and saw no sign that anyone else was there. The fact that his suit and his shoes were still on helped to silence the looming fear that he'd been in the company of another woman.
Mike took his phone out to check the time, only to find that it was dead. Of course it was dead, it was just his luck. The fight between him and Harvey came back to him suddenly, and he groaned at the memory. He glanced at the alarm clock beside his bed. 11:00 am. He was so late, and so so dead.
There was no time to get his head checked, he had to go now. He raced down the stairs to the lobby, and then out the front doors, only to find that he had no idea where he was. He walked back inside slowly, his head pounding painfully from all the running.
"Excuse me, sir?" He asked the person at the front desk, "do you know what part of New York I'm in?"
The man laughed.
"You're joking, right?" The man asked, as he debated whether or not the young, disheveled man in front of him was serious.
Mike's face went pale.
"No, I'm not," Mike replied anxiously.
Something was off, the news was blaring on the TV behind the man he was speaking to. It said it was Tuesday. Mike ran his fingers through his hair. How was today Tuesday if yesterday had been Tuesday? And where was his bike?
"Sir, you're not in New York," the man began slowly "you're in Springfield, Illinois."
Mike almost had a heart attack right then and there. He was in a different state, and he had no recollection of the last seven days. Logically, he knew this was probably due to the head wound, but he vowed silently to never go out drinking alone again.
"Illinois," he repeated defeatedly.
He found a nearby sofa and sat down. He was a dead man. Rachel had to be worried out of her mind, and he would be lucky if Harvey ever spoke to him again. He rubbed his face as he realized none of that mattered, because after Rachel and Harvey both finished chewing him out, Donna was going to murder him.
It was then that he realized the man behind the desk was still speaking to him.
"Hey, mister? Do you need me to call someone for you?"
Mike figured that was probably a good idea, so he nodded his head, which caused him to cry out in pain.
"Did I come in with anybody?" Mike asked.
"There's no telling, I just started my shift, but the computer says you've only been checked in since last night."
"Great."
Mike called an ambulance to take him to the hospital. Although he refused to admit it, even to himself, he did this less for his own well being and more so for the sole fact that he knew Harvey and Rachel were his emergency contacts. This way, he wouldn't have to call them, the hospital would take care of that. He knew this was just prolonging the inevitable, but his head hurt bad enough as it was without people yelling at him.
Once at the hospital, he was able to borrow a charger from a kindhearted nurse. His heart plummeted as he turned his phone on.
102 missed calls.
47 voicemails.
207 text messages.
Mike could only imagine how many times they'd actually called, but his phone would have stopped recording that as soon as it died. He rubbed his temples, the hospital had to have called by now, it was time to suck it up and do the same.
He called Rachel first, but it went straight to voicemail. Her phone must have died. Mike had a tough choice to make. Harvey or Donna? He decided Donna was the scarier of the two options, and called Harvey. He picked up on the first ring.
"Mike, what the ACTUAL hell?!"
Mike took a deep breath.
"Well hi to you, too," he offered in an attempt to downplay the fact that he was in the hospital, and had been missing for seven days. It was a difficult thing to downplay.
"Don't be cute with me. Do you have any idea what you've put Rachel through?! Do you know how worried Donna's been?? I swear, Mike, if you don't have a good explanation for this," Harvey threatened.
"Harvey," Mike said softly, "I am so sorry."
"Yeah, well sorry doesn't cut it. We're on our way to you now. I don't understand how you could disappear for two weeks without telling anybody, no matter how bad of a day you've had, you don't do that, Mike."
"TWO weeks?!" Mike practically choked on the words.
Harvey sighed on the other end of the line.
"Mike, just what exactly did you get yourself into?"