This will be the prologue to a very long story. Expect steady updates with a few late ones. One to two a week sounds manageable, right?

I'm going to leave the pairing up to you. The options are as follows: DonnaxMike MikexHarvey MikexRachel MikexOFC MikexOMC and no pairing at all. Send me any suggestions you want. I'll put a poll up as well. Don't forget to vote!

This is a really crappy prologue. Excuse the crap this is. It just kind of sets the scene. And I'm all musey right now. Wee!

Summary: We all have secrets in our past. Mike has one, he just thought everyone knew already.

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

NOTE: I don't have anything planned for this. Leave a review if you want anything in this fic. Hell, write half a chapter for me and I'll include it somewhere. Seriously guys, PM me if you want anything done. Leave a review and I'll love you even more.

See you all~

Prologue

Business as usual

He didn't tell anyone. It wasn't necessary. He thought they knew already. They ran background checks on him, didn't they? It wasn't relevant, anyways. He was working in a law firm, where he knew his place and followed the rules enough to avoid getting fired. Jessica tolerated him and Harvey liked him enough. There was no need to mention anything about his past. Not the nightmares or the flashbacks, and most definitely not the scars, both emotional and physical.

He was good at hiding it. He made sure to lean his phone against the wall of his cubicle, perfectly angled so he could spot someone behind him unintentionally (or intentionally) sneaking up on him. He made sure to let punches hit his lithe body. He let the Harvard douches beat on him, verbally and physically. He let Harvey call him scrawny, call him wimpy. He laughed with them, he didn't care, really. He had been called a wimp before. He kind of was, really. Compared to the other men he knew and worked with...

It didn't matter now. All that work of hiding it went down the drain. He slumped back, his shoulders hitting his couch with a dull thump. Letting out the lungful of air he didn't know he was holding in he let the piece of paper he had clenched in his hand fall to the rough fabric of the secondhand sofa. He didn't know what to do. At all.

He had been dreading this day since he dropped that briefcase. Dreading it like bad news from a doctor or a funeral. He knew it was coming. He wasn't out for good. Not yet. It was times like these where he regretted it. Screw the benefits. Screw it all! What about him? What about his life? How would he tell his friends?

Harvey had to know, Jessica as well. Donna knew everything so he wouldn't have to break the news to her. What about Rachel? Hell, all the associates would be desperate for answers the moment he starts packing up. When they found out he wasn't fired? Some would put the pieces together. Some wouldn't. Would he let them flounder about, not knowing what was going on?

He sighed, shaking his head. Standing up, he brushed out his suit pants, before grabbing his tie off of the back of a chair. It took four attempts to finally tie the object around his neck. His hands shaking, he grabbed his jacket. It took him a second to keep himself from collapsing as he reached. He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall for a moment, his shoulder shaking.

He bit his lip, drawing a blood. He couldn't go. Not after establishing himself at such a prestigious law firm, not after the drugs and the booze. Not after he came back so broken last time. Too broken to mend himself after only three years.

Too broken to heal at all, really.

He dialed the familiar number on his phone, calling a cab quickly before grabbing his messenger bag by the door. There was no way he could ride his bike to work. Not when he was so shaken up. Before he left, he grabbed the letter from the couch, shoving into his bag, wrinkling the front cover of a packet of briefs. For once, he hoped Harvey would berate him about it. He would have something else on his mind then, at least.

The cab came quickly and Mike slowly entered the vehicle, dreading the car ride much shorter than the bike ride. As the car rode through the thick traffic Mike took several deep breaths, calming down that shakes that plagued his hands. His heart continued to alternate between fluttering and bounding, leaving him with a lightheaded feeling. He visibly jolted when the car eased to a stop at a red light.

Ignoring the took the driver shot him, he looked out the window, watching as the tall building holding the law firm he worked at slowly grew clearer as they approached. It seemed as though every yard they grew closer his heard would pound a little harder.

After paying the driver, Mike quickly exited the car and made his way through security. The man at the door eyes his fidgety form for a moment before allowing him to pass. He made his way to the elevators, Pushing his way to the back of the car. He pressed his head against the back wall. He shut his eyes, ignoring any curious looks shot his way.

The car stopped several times, each time making Mike fidget some more. He was almost there. Almost on his floor, where he would have to show the letter that had somehow fallen to the bottom of his pile of bills, forgotten for a month and a half until now, just one week until he had to succumb to the horrid orders on the form.

The elevator dinged one last time and Mike's eyes snapped open. He walked past people he had learned to respect, avoiding eye contact. His shoes dragged against the floor slightly, not hard enough to scuff of make a sound, but enough to make him look as though he was up to something.

He arrived at Donnas desk, his hands trembling once more. Donna raised an eyebrow, her dark eyes looking him over, "Sweetie, you look like hell."

Mike's trembling increased, but he forced a smile, "I'm fine, Donna. I just didn't get much sleep last night. Zombie movie marathon on TV. Couldn't resist." He knew his smile faltered in the middle, and he knew Donna saw it, judging by the obvious frown gracing her dark lips. He dug through his bag, Pulling the briefs out. Brushing out the top page, he smiled sheepishly at Donna, who rolled her eyes before handing him a large stack of papers, which he happily grabbed out of her pale hands.

He shakily made his way to the cubicles, ignoring Donna's speculative look burning into the back of his head as though she had lasers shooting out of her dark pupils. Any other day and he would have turned around and shot the response back, stupid or not. Not today, however. Today he would work as long as he could until he was forced to meet with Jessica.

He plopped down into his seat, propping his phone up before turning his computer on. With a sigh he ran his long fingers through his hair, biting his lip as he did. His hair would suffer as much as his body...

As thoughts of his hair and his upcoming departure from the firm filled his mind, Donna grabbed some papers off of her desk, ready to shred them. As she made her way around her large (for a secretary) desk, she spotted a crumpled, smudged paper. Grabbing it off of the ground, she was surprised to spot a some sort of seal on the top corner. Knowing she should return it (or keep it as blackmail), she flattened it out as she walked. The moment the words rightened themselves she had to stop herself from dropping the papers in her hands from shock. Wide eyes gazed down at the worn paper in her arms, her fingers gripping the sheet as her eyes scanned over the dark words.

I have the honor to report that you have been posted to join the 2nd Reconnaissance Battalion. You are to report to Lejeune marine corps base, North Carolina on the 4th of...