A/N Hey guys :) So, this is my first Graceland fic - I've written a (very) similar story for Suits, and after seeing Iceangel1229's 'What The Hell' (it's awesome, go read it if you haven't already), I realised just how much I missed any kind of mini-Mike haha. This is probably set between episodes 4/5 and as of yet I don't know if I want to pretend Mike isn't investigating Briggs. We'll see how it plays out ;)

The title comes from a song Aaron Tveit has covered, which is all about a guy worrying about raising a kid when he's made loads of mistakes in the past, and he doesn't think he's up to it. Go give it a listen if you want :)

I'd like to really quickly give a shout-out to rae7788 who wouldn't stop harassing me til I wrote this ;) Love you Rach :P

Anyway, that's more than enough from me. Enjoy :)

"Michael, I have a small assignment for you," Bello said to him, just after a training session.

Mike looked at him, trying not to show his wariness. "Oh?"

"I received a… a curious shipment of some supplies. I would like you to be the one to test it out."

"What kind of supplies?" Mike asked, his arms crossed.

"Follow me, and I will show you," Bello answered, walking towards a warehouse door that was to the side of their 'training ground'. Mike followed and slipped through the door, wondering what types of weapons or bullets he'd be modelling for the drug lord. He was surprised to see, instead, that there weren't any bullets or guns on the table in front of him. Instead, there were small vials, a needle lying next to them.

"What's this?" He asked, heart hammering slightly. He knew he couldn't do any kind of drugs or the shit storm that would come from it would be unimaginable. But how would he get out of doing it?

"One of my suppliers is something of a scientist. He told me he could make me an injectable weapon. But I don't trust him," he said plainly.

Mike, eyes never leaving the syringe, nodded. "Smart move."

"So, I would like you to test it for me."

"What?" Mike finally turned to look at Bello. "You want me to test a poison? I thought you wanted me to train your men? I can't do that if I'm dead!"

"They are coming to the end of their training, and you; your use," Bello said in a cold, casual way that chilled Mike to the bone.

"They're nowhere near the end of their training," Mike said, almost desperately. He didn't know if command would have a TAC team ready, if they were even listening after the end of the training session. Briggs wasn't there; there had been too many training sessions for them to assume they'd be a threat. There was always someone listening, but Briggs now had more important things to be doing.

"You do not tell me what to do, Michael," Bello stepped towards him. Mike tried to step back but found his arms taken from behind. He tried to struggle out of it, but he had two guys pinning each arm, and a third pointing a gun at him. Not even at his head, which sucked - he would probably prefer bring shot and killed instantly to being injected with whatever the hell it was.

Bello took the syringe and pushed the plunger slightly, making sure there were no air bubbles. Mike guessed that was a positive, at least his injector knew what he was doing.

Bello rubbed at the base of his elbow with an iodine wipe, and Mike found himself emitting a strangled laugh.

"You're making sure I don't get an infection from the needle that's putting a lethal poison into my system?" He prayed that someone was listening, he wouldn't even care if his cover was blown when a whole TAC team swarmed in. But nothing happened.

"Do not worry, Michael, my supplier has informed me it works in curious ways. No one has of yet died from it."

"Then why are you using it?" Mike thrashed desperately but he had at least two men holding down his arm so it was lying straight.

"Because," Bello took no time at all before plunging the needle into Mike's arm, "I wanted to see what it does before I start selling it."

Mike grit his teeth as it felt like acid was flowing around his body. He writhed and groaned and found that he had been let loose by the men who had been gripping him, falling to the floor and curling up. Every limb was on fire, it felt as though his muscles were being eaten away and he took in one final breath before everything went black.

"…drop him…"

"Just… him… he…"

"Leave… dead…"

Mike groaned and tried to open his eyes, but everything was too bright, too blurry. Everything ached and he let his head flop uselessly onto the ground. The soft, sandy ground. He weakly pulled an arm around and hit himself in the face with his jacket sleeve. At least, it felt like his jacket sleeve, but it was way too big to be it. They must have half-put him in a body bag. Panic started to set in and he finally managed to open his eyes fully. It was getting dark and he was on the beach. He had no idea exactly where he was, he just knew he was on the beach. When he could finally move his head he began to test every other limb.

He got flares of pain but nothing so dramatic so as to stop him from getting up. He slowly sat up, rubbing at his eyes and blinking until he could see straight. It was then he finally noticed why he jacket didn't feel like his jacket.

It was huge.

It swamped him, and that was when he realised hit top did too. It was reaching past his toes, and to his horror he couldn't even find his pants.

His breathing became faster and faster as he looked down himself, staring at his hands and making an odd squeaking sound that made him forget about his hands and clutch at his throat. His hands were tiny. They were small and squishy and the sound he had made couldn't have been human.

"Hello?" He said quietly, just to hear himself, before clapping the squishy hands to his mouth. He sounded like a toddler.

His brain finally kicked into gear and he stood up, very wobbly and realised why he sounded like a toddler.

He was one.

He was tiny. He lifted his top and saw tiny, stubby toes that he would have deigned as cute on anyone else.

"This isn't happening," he breathed out, wincing at the sound of his voice. He hesitantly reached down and touched a finger to one of his toes. He prodded it a few times before finally realising that he should probably get off the beach. Get to safety.


Get to Graceland.

He was glad he had kept his phone in his jacket pocket rather than his pants pocket – an item of clothing he was pretty sure he'd never see again – and fished it out, struggling to create the patterned password with his tiny, squishy fingers.

As soon as he had unlocked it, he went into contacts before freezing. Who would believe him? Briggs would think it was some kind of prank, or a joke.

But he did have an unbelievable amount of missed calls from everyone.

So he sucked it up, and called Briggs. He answered on the first ring.

"Mike? Mike are you okay?"

"I think I need you to come get me," Mike said, trying to make his voice as deep as possible.

"We will, buddy, where are you? Are you hurt?"

"No, I uh… I don't know where I am. On a beach. Um…" He stared around in the dark for a few moments before finally catching sight of a familiar shack in the distance. "I'm near Hectors!" He said, wincing as his voice went higher than he'd anticipated. "And uh… I'm not hurt. I'm… There's something wrong."

"I'm on my way now, Mike, I'll be there in five – do we need to go to the hospital?"

"No," Mike doubted they'd be able to do anything for him. "No I think I… I just wanna go home." That hadn't been what he'd wanted to say originally. All he could think of though, was everyone in the house. Charlie and her over-protective mothering that sounded pretty awesome right now. Johnny and his teasing, taking his mind off things for a while. Paige, and how she'd be sweet to him, but as playful as Johnny. Jakes and his… just Jakes. He felt tears rising and brushed them away. Why was he crying at the thought of his housemates? He'd see them soon.

But what would they say?

"Mike! You still there?"

Oh, right, Briggs was still on the phone. He should do something. "Yeah. I'm… Listen, Briggs, something's happened. The injection – "


"No… no one in command heard?"

"What happened, Mike?"

"He… Bello had something in a syringe. He injected me with it. I uh… it did something."

"Almost there, Mike, keep talking. What did it do? You in pain? Nausea?"

"No it's… it shrunk me." He realised how ridiculous it sounded. How ridiculous it actually was, but he needs Briggs to know before he finds him.

"… Come again?"

"I… I'm smaller. I know it sounds stupid, but I – "

"Mike I'm pulling up, I'll be with you in a second, I promise." Briggs said, before hanging up. Mike sighed and dropped back onto the sand, pulling his knees up and resting his forehead on them. He didn't know what to do. He just hoped that Briggs could take charge and decide for him.

Heard the footsteps coming closer and slowly started to uncurl from around himself. He glanced over as Briggs slowed, staring at him.

"Um… Mike?"

"Yeah," Mike sighed. "Hi."

"Hi." Briggs just stared at him. "Are you uh… are you sure…"

"Am I sure I'm Mike?" Briggs nodded, his mouth open slightly. "Yeah. I was under cover teaching Bello's men how to shoot, and had the lovely experience of having his right hand, Eddie, shoot himself in front of me." Mike said, knowing Briggs would need proof.

"Shit," Briggs slid to his knees, looking at him. "What even happened to you?"

"Bello told me that his guys were pretty much trained," Mike explained, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. "And that he was given something new by his supplier. Apparently he made it himself. Held me down, injected me, dumped me here. Next thing I know I'm… this. All… squishy and high-pitched."

Briggs snorted, before looking serious again. "How come we didn't hear any of this?"

"It was after the session, command must have gotten bored and stopped listening as soon as it ended." Mike said, this being the scenario he had assumed was the case.

Briggs' expression shifted into a more dangerous one. "I'm going to kill them," he growled. "They know not to stop monitoring until you're back at command."

Mike nodded but shrugged. "What do we do now?" He asked, voice wavering slightly. His head was starting to hurt, but he thought that it was probably due to tiredness than anything else. His arm ached where the needle went in and he cradled it to himself, sighing.

Briggs rubbed a hand over his face. "We'll go back to the house. You can be fussed over by Charlie and Paige and we'll figure it all out in the morning. How's that sound?"

Mike pouted. "Can we not tell them and say we did?"

Briggs's mouth quirked up slightly but he stood up, holding his hand out. "C'mon, it's getting late and I didn't even tell them you'd called." Mike stared at the outstretched hand. "What?"

"I'm not holding your hand," Mike told him, standing and wobbling slightly before picking up the hem of his top so he didn't fall over it. "Let's go."

Briggs smirked. "Okay, kid."

They made their way over the sand and Briggs ended up grabbing Mike's wrist as the kid stumbled just before they got to the path at the top. "Steady, Mike." He kept a hold of the kid's wrist until they got to his jeep, and then looked down at him. Mike gazed back up, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand. "Okay, I'm going to strap you into the front seat, but we'll need to get a car seat for you soon."

"What? I'm not sitting in one of them!" Mike cried, outraged.

"Mike you're a federal agent, you telling me you don't know traffic laws?" Briggs responded, grabbing Mike by the middle to place him in the car. Mike huffed at this but said nothing, allowing Briggs to strap him in and shut the door. Mike rubbed at his eyes again before the engine started, and Briggs turned up the heat so that he would be warm in his top/dress. The rumble of the engine combined with the weird shift in his emotions led to Mike's eyes closing, not realising it had happened before he was on the brink of sleep.

"Oh my god, he's the cutest thing ever!"

"Briggs you gotta let me hold him."

"Does he have clothes?"

"We should take him shopping tomorrow!"

Mike's eyelids fluttered as he heard the commotion that was undoubtedly caused by their return. He was confused for a few seconds by his position before realising that Briggs had carried him inside, his head resting on the man's shoulder, hence why he was confused to be looking a different way to where everyone else was. He also realised his mouth had been open, so he had drooled all over Briggs' shoulder.

"Wha?" Was his first, unintelligible word. He pulled his head up and gazed around, scrunching his nose and rubbing at his eyes with a closed fist, which was apparently adorable because Charlie and Paige both beamed and there was a small amount of squealing and awing. "I don't wanna go clothes shopping," Mike murmured, before realising that this was the first time his housemates were seeing him like this. He hoped they weren't too freaked out.

On the contrary, Paige and Charlie looked excited. He was suddenly grabbed around the middle and tugged out of Briggs' arms and into Charlie's, where he was suddenly bounced and cooed at and had his hair stroked and cheeks pinched… He tried to get away, pulling and trying to push away a hand when it came to close.

"Guys!" He whined. "Stop it!"

"Alright ladies, you can mother him more tomorrow," Briggs said, feeling sorry for the kid and scooping him back out of Charlie's arms.

"No they can't," Mike grumbled, tiredly resting his head on Briggs' shoulder without thinking about it.

"Well like it or not we're taking you shopping," Charlie told him sternly. "You need clothes until we figure this thing out."

"Can we buy a stroller?" Paige asked, grinning. "Please say we can buy him a stroller."

"I'm not a baby!" Mike protested, glaring at them both.

"I know, sweetie," Charlie said, ruffling his hair. "You're what… 3? 4?"

"I don't know," Mike grumbled, huffing and moving his arms so that they were around Briggs' neck.

"Well maybe this three or four year old should be in bed," Briggs said, lifting Mike a bit further up to hold him easier.

"I'm not tired!" Mike announced, frowning.

"I'd like to keep him up for a bit," Charlie said. "We don't know whatever the hell he was injected with, put in his system. I'll get him a drink."

"Can I hold him?" Paige asked, frowning as Mike's grip around Briggs tightened. "Oh come on, I won't drop you!"

Mike huffed but found he didn't really have a choice and was passed from Briggs to Paige like he was nothing less than a… a pineapple.

He didn't know.

He was really tired.

He yawned and didn't even notice that Paige had taken him over to the couches and sat down. He found he preferred the feeling of sitting on someone's lap rather than being carried by them. It was still weird to think he was sitting on Paige's lap.

"Oh, man – is that him?" He winced as Johnny's carrying voice came into the room, followed by Jakes'.

"Are you sure you're just not high, Briggs?" Jakes asked, folding his arms as he stood back and watched Johnny kneel by Paige's legs and attempt to play peek-a-boo with the small child.

He proceeded to get a bloody nose.

"I'm pretty sure that's Mike," Briggs replied, smirking as Charlie sighed and directed Johnny to the kitchen as she returned with a drink for Mike, before telling him off for hurting Johnny.

"Don't be so patronising," Mike muttered, clutching the glass she gave him in both hands. His hands were wobbly and weak from the injection and he didn't want to drop the glass all over Paige or himself. "Can I please just go to bed?"

"What happened to not being tired?" Briggs asked, coming to sit next to Paige. The woman pouted when Mike climbed off her knee and onto Briggs'. He passed the glass back to Charlie with a small smile as a thank you and closed his eyes.

"Aw, looks like you're Mikey's favourite," Johnny teased Briggs, grinning as Mike flipped him off.

"Paige has bony knees," Mike told him as his excuse, before looking over at Paige. "Sorry."

Briggs huffed out a laugh. "C'mon, Mike. Go to bed, and then tomorrow we can find you some clothes, get in touch with some people and get it all fixed."

"You think it'll be as easy as that?" Mike asked cynically, even as he had a gleam of hope on his face.

Briggs shrugged. "Might be. You say Bello had more of this stuff?" Mike nodded. "We might be able to get some and send it to labs for them to make an… I don't know, an anti-toxin?"

Mike nodded, feeling better because of how certain and calm Briggs sounded. Mike started trace the pattern on Briggs' shirt, stopping as it went quiet. He turned and blushed the see that everyone was looking at him.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I just feel… jittery. I need to do something."

"Yo, Jakes, you got any more seized toys?" Johnny asked, smirking.

"Nope. You got any?" Briggs replied without bite.


"I don't need toys, guys," Mike told them, playing with his own fingers as something to do, before tapping his heels slightly as again he felt the need to be doing something.

"Well how about we worry about all of that tomorrow?" Briggs suggested again, standing up and shifting Mike so he was balanced on his hip.

"How do you know how to hold a kid?" Mike asked, arms slung around the man's neck once more.

Briggs didn't offer up a response and Mike huffed, swinging his legs from where he was attached to Briggs' side.

"Night, Mikey," Charlie said, smiling at him. "We'll buy you some clothes tomorrow, okay?"

"Sleep tight, Mikey!" Johnny called, grinning. "Don't let the bed bugs bite!"

"Night you guys," he replied as Briggs started walking away. "Thanks for not making a big deal of this."

"What is there to make a deal of?" Jakes said sarcastically just before they were out of earshot. "This happens all the time."

"You think we'll actually be able to find something to help?" Paige said, staring at the stairs that Briggs had just disappeared up.

"Maybe," Charlie responded, sitting back and pursing her lips. "But I don't think Paul's realised yet that he can't do anything more with Bello. Not when he was prepared for Mike to die – shows he's expendable. There's no way Mike can get back on that case."

"Not while he's the size he is," Johnny said, smiling. "When you take him shopping, are you gunna buy him toys?"

"I think we should play it by ear," Paige replied. "See what he wants."

"You really think the kid's going to want to play with toys?" Jakes questioned, raising an eyebrow and looking very doubtful.

"I think he'll get cabin fever really quickly and with nothing to do, I think he'll start to do anything to get out of the boredom. It's something I've seen my cousins do all the time. It's better to have something ready for him to play with, rather than let him find a gun and shoot himself in the foot," Charlie advised, checking her watch. "I don't know about you reprobates, but I'm going to bed. I want to shop early to avoid crowds; we don't know who saw Mike as he is now from Bello's gang."

As everyone else were discussing this downstairs, Briggs was trying to help Mike get ready for bed. Except the kid was being ridiculously difficult.

"C'mon, Mike – it's just so you know you got everywhere; your hand eye co-ordination'll suck now," Paul explained, semi-patiently as the kid stood on an upturned box in front of the sink, glaring at the older agent who held a toothbrush in his hand ready to put into the kid's mouth. "Open wide."

"No," Mike scowled, clapping a hand to his mouth to prevent Briggs from helping in any way. "Let me do it myself," he demanded, words muffled.

Briggs sighed but held out the toothbrush, rolling his eyes as it was snatched from his hands. He leant against the doorway, arms crossed as he watched Mike brushing his teeth.

"You don't need to watch me," Mike said through the brush and foam.

"I know," Briggs replied, staying there anyway. He had heard about small kids accidentally choking themselves on their toothbrush.

When Mike was finished he got down, rubbing at his mouth and getting leftover toothpaste on the sleeve of the t-shirt that he'd decided to wear for bed. It was obviously too big for him, but he had nothing else to wear until they went shopping. Suddenly realising what kind of pyjamas he'd be getting, he let out a low moan.

"What?" Briggs asked, kneeling to look at him, as if expecting to see blood dripping from his eyes.

"They're gunna buy me childish clothes," Mike moaned, looking up at Briggs. "They'll get me… I don't know, Sesame Street pyjamas," he pouted at the older man, who just looked amused at the thought. "Can't you come with us? You can stop them buying it!"

Briggs laughed as he helped Mike onto the bed. "You're kidding, right? I couldn't stop Paige and Charlie doing anything if I tried. You're stuck with Elmo pyjamas if they want you to be." Mike frowned and looked down at his lap as he pulled the covers around himself. "C'mon, kid, it could be worse, they might try to make you wear Disney princess pyjamas," he stopped in case Mike accused him of trying to put ideas into their housemates' heads. Instead, he just heard sniffling, and gently pushed Mike's chin so he looked up, and saw that the kid was crying softly.

"Hey," he moved his hand to rest on Mike's shoulder. "C'mon, Mike, it's okay."

"No it's not," he snivelled. "I don't wanna be a baby for the rest of my life."

"You won't be," Briggs reassured him. "You just said you're not a baby. And Charlie said you were maybe 4. That's pretty much a teenager!" Mike chuckled weakly. "Don't worry, Mike, we'll get this reversed. I bet a week, max, and we'll have the old you back. Okay?"

Mike nodded, rubbing at his eyes in order to stop anymore tears. "Thanks, Briggs. I'm sorry," he laughed slightly. "I won't cry again, I promise."

"Don't worry about it," Briggs chucked his chin before standing up. "Get some sleep, alright? You have a big day tomorrow."

Mike managed to muster up a smile before Briggs turned the light off and closed the door, plunging him into darkness.

Mike's heart rate immediately elevated, and he breathed out slowly, pulling the covers up to just under his eyes. He'd never had a problem with the dark before. Never assumed something was lurking in the corner of his room. His dad had always scoffed and told him that such things just didn't exist.

But something right now was telling Mike to be wary. He slid down under the covers and squeezed his eyes shut, thankful that he was already tired. It didn't take long for him to fall into a deep, if somewhat fitful, sleep.

A/N Hope everyone enjoyed that, and shouldn't be too long until the next chapter :) Let me know your thoughts, and if I should even continue :)