Hello everyone! Finally finished this new chapter and I'm pretty pleased with it, however I did write it in a bit of a rush so apologies in advance if there are a few grammatical/spelling errors! Thank you all so much for your reviews, they honestly mean the world to me, and checking a story and seeing new reviews is the best motivation and inspiration for me to write more, I absolutely love it! This chapter is pretty violent - bit of forewarning, but it is straying into the territory of what a lot of you requested, but I decided to split it up a little! Hope you guys enjoy!

The night was crisp and biting as Harvey Specter stumbled out onto the balcony of his condo, chest heaving and hands shaking as he was met with the faint buzz and thrum of city noise below him. The lights of New York, normally a comfort to him on lonely nights, glared too bright, piercing his frantically blinking eyes as he tried his hardest to shield himself from their persistent glow. His mind was swimming, bogged down and swirling with thoughts of...of everything. Of the first moment, four months ago, when Mike had told him he'd been... Harvey swallowed, bile rising in his throat. Four months later, following many vigorous negotiations (and threats) to get Mike out of his cell, and Harvey still didn't feel secure.

Mike had stayed in the same cell for another two months, and although he would never tell Harvey outright when he came to visit him, Harvey would always know that it had happened again. Helplessness was not a feeling Harvey Specter was accustomed to feeling, however in the past four months since Mike had taken that deal, helplessness had become a default emotion. He always hugged Mike a little tighter after a night where it had happened. Mike knew he knew, when he felt the older man's embrace tighten before he was ushered out of the prison by the guards. Neither man acknowledged it, however, except when Mike would ask him quietly, eyes darting around nervously, whether he'd made any progress.

Two months into this arrangement, Harvey finally made a breakthrough. Through a wide variety of colourful (and slightly questionable) negotiation tactics, Harvey finally found a legal loophole allowing him to get Mike out of the cell. It sickened Harvey to know that the asshole who had made Mike's life a misery wasn't receiving any punishment, but according to his associate, the man was already serving consecutive life sentences, and Harvey supposed that would have to be enough. By this time, Mike had lightened up considerably, and his visits with Harvey were no longer as somber as they were during the first month. Harvey would relay news about the rebuilding of the firm, often bringing Mike legal dilemmas or case files to keep him busy (Harvey would never admit it, but Mike's help, especially when the kid had nothing else to put his mind to, was incredibly valuable), and Mike would recount tales of the prison, which - thankfully - were tedious for the most part. Things returned to a sense of normalcy - Harvey developed a routine. Home, work, Mike, home. It wasn't good, but it was better.

However, on nights like these, when Harvey awoke from a nightmare choking and unable to breathe, it felt like the whole world had collapsed on his chest. On nights like this, things showed themselves to Harvey as they really were, shattering his rose-tinted fantasy, and reality would rise up in front of him like an abstract beast, blocking his view and clamping down on his throat. He would stumble out the first door he saw, clutching his chest and forcing himself to breathe, and try to push thoughts of Mike as far out of his mind as possible. It had worked every other time before, and if it hadn't, he'd call Donna or Dr. Agard and breathe into the phones receiver while they assured him that Mike was okay, and would remain okay until Harvey saw him again. He hated being so weak, so pathetic, and in truth, he normally wasn't. On the outside, Harvey had completely accepted Mike's ill fate, and he appeared fairly well adjusted. However, the internal emotions Harvey had managed to quash reared their ugly heads once in a while, resulting in...this.

Harvey took a long, hot shower, before picking up his phone and checking the time on the home screen. Six thirty. He figured Donna would be awake, so, punching in her number, he brought the phone to his ear and awaited his secretary's voice. She picked up on the third ring, her voice sounding bleary and heavy with sleep. "Donna, I need you to cancel my morning." He said briskly, trying to keep the pain of the night before out of his voice. "I've gotta go see Mike." Donna complied immediately, leaving Harvey with a sympathetic click of her tongue and an offer to join him. He refused, however half of him was aching to say yes. He never saw Mike this early in the day. The prison was about a half hour drive from Pearson Hardman, and a forty five minute drive from his condo, making it far more practical for Harvey's visits to fall in the evenings, however, something in the older lawyer was driving his actions - he knew he had to go see Mike as soon as possible. Something twisted in Harvey's gut, and he had a dizzying feeling that something was wrong with the kid...

Meanwhile, at Danbury Federal Prison, it was going on 7am, and in cell block D, that meant another hour the prisoners had been successful. Mike squinted his eyes, wanting more than anything to just cover his ears to the clamour. A broken air conditioning unit. That's all it had been. But it was enough to anger one guy, way up in the corner of cell block D, and therefore enough to anger the prisoners who were out of their cells at the time. It was enough to start a riot, which had now been ranging for a very long time. Mike's cell mate (thankfully) had disappeared into the fray early, allowing Mike to cower fearfully, alone in his cell. Screams and cries of prisoners and guards echoed from the communal room below, and Mike cringed at the sound of slicing flesh. He could see blood dripping onto the floor of the cell in front of him, and he could smell it in the air, metallic and sickeningly strong.

Mike closed his eyes, trying to block out the sounds. The air around him was hot and thick, a mixture between the abundance of screaming, sweaty men filling the space he was in, and the still faulty air conditioning unit that had started this whole mess. In truth, Mike was terrified. It was an amount of violence he could barely even comprehend, and - even in the four months he'd been in the prison - he'd never felt more uneasy and unsafe. Control had been completely taken from the guards, and Mike could see at least two, unmoving on the floor, from where he sat huddled up against the wall of the bunk. At that moment, a curiosity rose inside Mike, compelling him to lift himself slowly from his perch, and head towards the door of his cell. Every part of his brain was screaming - blood was rushing through his head so quickly he could almost hear it, but he didn't stop. He simply moved further and further into the fray, glancing around cautiously, although he didn't really know who he was hiding from.

What Mike saw below him was pure carnage. Men were swarming the bottom floor of the cell block, swinging and slashing and wrestling - either guards or other prisoners. Most of the men were stained with crimson, looking like something out of The Walking Dead as they thrust and stabbed at anyone who came near them. The injured and dead lay in speckles and puddles of blood on the cold concrete floor, slowly being consumed by the pulsating mob of men. Mike wanted to flee, run back into the safety of his cell and sink into the floor. His heart raced and he felt bile rising to his throat at the scene unfolding beneath him. But his eyes were glued to it, like when he and his parents had watched a man almost mauled to death by a lion at the New York Zoo when he'd been younger. Fear rooted him to the spot, but it was a dark and dangerous curiosity that compelled him to stay.

A loud crash and something brushing past his hair made his head snap upwards - angling towards the level of cells above him. Directly next to his head was a man's foot - not clad in regular standard-issue prison shoes either. A guard's shoe, heavy and heeled, swinging limply and twitching slightly. Mike swallowed, regretting every minuscule movement of his head as he followed the shoe up the man's leg, before resting on his face. Officer Brooks. Average by all regards, and Mike had never really had a proper interaction with him but... Mike never forgot a name. Brooks' arms still moved slowly, clawing at the rope around his neck, and Mike could hear him gargling for air as the rope tightened. However, blood was soaking the rope, and Mike noted that, had the guard been able to break free of the noose, he wouldn't have lasted long. Mike willed himself to stay staring at the man's face, all too conscious of the presence lurking behind him. A man's hand was clamped on the railing above Brooks, staring down at Mike.

As his eyes darted upward, Mike felt everything inside him collapse. He locked eyes with the murderous figure, standing over the body of the murdered guard, and he knew everything was over. Lennox, his former cellmate, swung himself over the railing, dropping down next to where Mike stood, quickly joined by two men Mike had never seen before.

"Well, well, well," Lennox said, his voice sending knives into Mike's skull, "of all the snitches to run into..."

Mike opened his mouth, desperate to say that he didn't see anything, and that he wasn't gonna snitch, but before he could get a word out, he felt the uncomfortably familiar touch of Lennox's rough hands, one on his arm and one covering his mouth, and he was being dragged backwards, back into his cell...

"Nice place you got here Mike," Lennox sneered, throwing him down with a thud. Mike landed hard, his head narrowly avoiding the corner of the bed. "You boys recognise this fella? Used to be my cellie, but our time got cut short - didn't it Mike?"

Mike grunted as he tried to sit up, ignoring what Lennox was saying to him.

"But, you see, Mike got this fancy pad-" Lennox gestured around the small cell, "by doing the one thing he's good at."

Mike felt shivers go down his spine. In fact, his entire body was trembling, despite how hard he was trying to suppress it. He raised his eyes just in time to lock eyes with Lennox, immediately making him queasy.

"By snitching." Lennox finished, with a sickening grin.

"But don't worry boys - what with the riot goin' on down there, I'd say we have an hour? Two? Shouldn't take more than forty five minutes to make sure this kid never opens his mouth again... Literally or figuratively."

Mike had just enough time to whirl around and spit up all the bile in his chest, before all three of them were on him, beating him, cutting him, slamming their fists down on any surface of Mike's body they could find. Mike wheezed and screamed and gasped for air, hoping that somebody- anybody, would hear him. But nobody did. He went on sobbing and shouting, until his throat was hoarse and clammy, and he was all but hacking up the words. And just when he knew he couldn't take it anymore, because every part of his body was aching, the final strike came, and a swift punch to the back of the head sent him crumpling to the floor.

The parking lot of Danbury Federal Prison was near barren, and Harvey spotted one, maybe two cars on the road leading into the solemn place. He'd never been this early in the morning, and he assumed it must be a regular. By 5PM, when Harvey would normally visit Mike, the place was swarming with families, wives, children, lawyers and... Friends (although, at this point, Harvey fit himself more under the family category).

He strode into the prison with all the confidence of a man who'd just given himself the morning off, trying to shake the events of earlier off his memory, but as he approached the front desk, he realised that it was completely deserted. In fact, everywhere was. Harvey started to feel a dull panic in the pit of his chest, that maybe Mike wasn't okay...

"Donna?"

The redhead answered the phone on the third ring.

"Donna, nothing's... Nothing's going on at Danbury is there? Like on the news?"

He heard the distinct sound of keys typing, and he held his breath, just hoping and praying that he was wrong, that everything was okay...

"Oh God," his secretary's voice came through the line again, sending waves through his heart and making him weak at the knees.

"Donna, just tell me," he pleaded, unable to take not knowing any longer.

"Harvey..." her concerned voice rang out, "...you have to get out of there."

AND THAT'S IT! (Sorry for the slight cliffhanger guys don't hate me) I really really hope you enjoyed this chapter (and that I didn't mess you around too much with the perspectives etc.) and if you did/didn't/sort of did/sort of didn't, PLEASE let me know in the comments because I value reviews above anything else, and I just love hearing what you guys have to say, because it helps me to improve and become better for it!

Until next time my loves!