Disclaimer: Suits does not belong to me.

Disclaimer #2: I started writing this around the third episode of the first season. Though I've included little bits of info along the way as new episodes have arrived, any inconsistencies with the show are due to the fact that we obviously don't have all the info yet. :)

Author's note: This story is the result of the following prompt from the suits meme on LJ: Mike gets knocked off his bike on the way to work. He takes a pretty bad bump to the head, and gets a bit bruised up. I'm open to maybe a break, though. Nothing majorly serious, but something that warrants medical attention. Meanwhile, at the office, Harvey is starting to get all pissy about Mike being late. Until he finds out he's at the hospital, that is, and he's out of there so fast, Donna barely has enough time to ask what's going on.

It happened like this: One minute he was on his bike, and the next he was flying. Afterwards, all he could remember was the brief sensation of being weightless, and then nothing. The next time he opened his eyes, there was an EMT bending over him, telling him to lie still, and a crowd gathered just beyond the little bubble of space that had obviously been cleared around him.

His head ached with each beat of his heart as the guy bent over him, talking about something Mike couldn't be bothered to decipher. He strapped some kind of plastic brace around Mike's neck, and then moved away leaving Mike's half-squinted eyes exposed to the direct sunlight overhead. That's when the real pain hit. His eyes teared up as giant ice picks stabbed right through his eye sockets and into his brain.

He must've groaned (but he couldn't be sure because oh my god the ice picks were stabbing his brain) and then suddenly the EMT seemed to notice his predicament and moved back over to block the light again with his body.

He was lifted into the back of an ambulance before he managed to put his thoughts together to protest - and when exactly had they put him on a stretcher?

Mike figured they must've given him some sort of drug, because the pain from the ice picks had softened to a dull ache and he was actually able to form a coherent thought. Two, actually. The first concerned money (of course), and the fact that he'd recently paid his grandmother's medical bills with his sign-on bonus, and spent most of his first couple paychecks on better suits which left very little for medical bills of his own. In fact, since new employees had to wait ninety days for their benefits to kick in, he was currently without insurance as well.

His second thought involved his suit – one of his better ones, in fact – and whether or not it had been ruined in his brief failed flight.

Those two thoughts made him remember something else that probably should've hit him long before now: he was going to be very late for work. He groaned again, intentionally this time, causing the EMT in the back of the ambulance to pause whatever he was doing and look at him.

"You doing all right?"

"Need to call my boss," he all but moaned, wondering how likely it was Harvey would overlook the fact that he was going to be very late and miss an appointment with a client this morning because he'd apparently decided to go all E.T. with his bike.

If the EMT thought it was a strange request, he didn't show it. Or maybe Mike just couldn't tell because the ambulance was moving and everything was swaying. In either case, the guy pointed to Mike's messenger bag that was propped up on the bench beside him. "Is your phone in your bag? Because there isn't one on you."

"It should be," he answered carefully, only now realizing he should be grateful that someone had thought to salvage his bag. He didn't feel very grateful, though. He'd probably feel more inclined towards gratefulness once he got ahold of Harvey and made sure he still had a job.

The EMT found his phone, and began scrolling through the contact list. "What's your boss' name? I'll call him for you."

"Harvey." Mike suddenly realized he was awfully tired. Way too tired to protest the fact that some random EMT was about to call his boss.

His eyes drifted closed.

A glance through the glass walls of the office told Donna that Harvey had started to pace.

This was a bad sign.

Mike was late. But his being late wasn't exactly a new thing, and it usually only left Harvey mildly annoyed (despite how much he blustered about it to Mike). This time was a little different, though. Mike hadn't stayed late the night before, and he knew they were meeting with a client in exactly 32 minutes. A picky client that required a little… finesse. Finesse that Mike wouldn't have when he next interacted with the client because he hadn't been here for Harvey to get him up to speed before the meeting.

Sure, Harvey could handle the client himself, but Mike was supposed be there. Not only because there was a good chance he'd be dealing with this particular client at least occasionally, but because it was his job to be wherever Harvey told him to be, whenever Harvey told him to be there.

The more Donna thought about it, the more annoyed she became on Harvey's behalf. Harvey was risking a lot on this kid; if he couldn't be bothered to show up, Donna would find a way to make sure he landed right back on his ass, no matter what Harvey had to say about it.

Still, Donna was wise enough to know better than to show Harvey how annoyed she was. She went to stand in the door of his office.

"That's industrial-grade carpet. Even at the rate you're going, it'll take forever to actually wear a hole in it."

"He's late, damn it."

"Yeah, and pacing will probably get him here faster."

He'd just opened his mouth to reply, when his cell phone started ringing. He grabbed his phone to answer it, holding up a finger to signal Donna that he did have a retort for her, and it was good.

She rolled her eyes.

"Harvey Specter." A pause. "How bad is he hurt?"

Another pause. Donna waited to see if he'd signal her at all, but he was staring intently at the floor while he listened to whatever the other person was saying. Suddenly he straightened.

"Thank you. I'll be there shortly."

Harvey disconnected the call and moved to his desk to get his keys without even looking at Donna.

"Hey, what -"

Harvey cut her off before she could finish her question. "Cancel my appointments today."

He'd already started striding towards the door.

"Damn it, Harvey, what's going on? Is Mike hurt?"

Harvey finally looked at her almost as if he was surprised to see her standing there; clearly, his mind had already been miles away. "Yeah. Somebody hit him. They're taking him to St. Luke's, so I'm going over there."

Donna felt her stomach drop with guilt over the thoughts she'd been having about Mike earlier. Poor kid. "Is he all right?"

Harvey had already started moving past her. "Don't know," he tossed over his shoulder. "He had a brief loss of consciousness; they say he's disoriented."

Donna opened her mouth to ask more, but Harvey was already gone.