A/N; Hello Readers! Just a quick summary. What if Will's death had been faked? What if Alicia found out several years into the future? Would she try to find him? Would he want to be found? And if their paths were to cross, would they be willing and able to change their lives again to be with each other? This follows the shows timeline until mid-season 6. It is somewhat of a sequel to my One Year Later story, but you don't need to have read that one to follow this.

Please let me know if there is interest in continuing this. As always, your feedback is welcome and helpful to me. I hope you all enjoy!

One of these days the sky's gonna break

And everything will escape, and I'll know.

One of these days the mountains are gonna

fall into the sea, and they'll know…

That you and I were made for this.

I was made to taste your kiss.

We were made to never fall away…

Never fall away.

Letters from the Sky

Civil Twilight

Washington D.C. 2022

Alicia

"I want to be with you, and only you, forever...forever...forever..."

Forever – the words echoed through her mind, waking her from sleep. With perspiration on her brow and a racing heart, she inhaled deeply, blinking to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room around her.

Eight long years since Will died. It feels like forever, she thought, glancing at the clock on the bedside table next to her. 4:45 am. Sighing, she shifted beneath the soft sheets to gaze at the sleeping form next to her.

It had been a long time since she'd dreamt of Will. Whenever it happened she wondered why her dreams of him were so vivid – seemed so real. None of her other dreams were like this, or could wake her in a heated sweat. Dreams of him always did. Some of the dreams were good - very good. Others were not. Some were memories of times they'd spent together. Others were of things she'd dreamt up in her mind of what might have been if he hadn't died, if they'd ended the war she'd started - or if they hadn't.

It's the stress of the new job, she thought, sitting up. Or perhaps it had been going through some of her old things over the weekend. She'd finally found time to unpack a few boxes that had been piled up in the coat closet since her move. While unpacking she'd found the box that held her memories from Georgetown, and the time she'd spent with Will years later.

She quietly climbed out of bed making her way to the closet. Dreams like these were difficult to shake sometimes. The vivid memories filling her with so many emotions she felt like she was drowning. She'd moved on from Will, had accepted the fact that he'd loved her, but that being together would never be possible. He was dead after all.

She'd long since reconciled the memories that had once plagued her with heavy-laden guilt. But that didn't mean that sometimes when she thought of him, or saw the back of someone that looked like him, that she could ignore the emotions that ran through her, feel like a tiny piece of her heart was missing.

A few minutes later, she sat on the edge of the bed lacing up her running shoes. There was only one way to kick the sting that gripped her heart at this early hour, a fast paced, muscle aching run. After all, she loved the man who now shared her bed, and he deserved her full attention. He had been patient with her when she'd explained what had happened to her first marriage, and why she may never want to marry again.

James was someone real. Someone she could touch, and kiss, and had found happiness with. He was better than she deserved, she told herself sometimes, because he'd even accepted the fact that she would always hold a small place in her heart for a dead man. He understood that the distant looks she sometimes held were not meant to hurt him, but a reminder of how she didn't want to repeat her past.

Yes, a good long run would rid her of the suffocating emotions, so that when she returned home she'd be able to give James her complete attention and affection.

She stepped out of the Victorian style townhouse and headed in the direction of the Georgetown campus. She'd taken up running a few years back while living in New York. The bustling city had been her home for six years, up until her move to D.C. three months prior.

The crisp spring air did wonders for her mood. She was feeling much better as she neared the end of her chosen path. She'd run this trail past the campus numerous times since her move. It was quiet in the mornings, and passing the college campus always brought on a bit of nostalgia.

She never would have imagined eight years earlier, during some of her darkest days that she'd end up in D.C. as one of the nation's top attorneys. She had landed the Associate Attorney General position three months prior. The position placed her as the third highest ranked attorney in the country. Her name had been on a short list of qualified candidates that had crossed the President's desk six months prior, thanks to Peter and some of the old political ties he'd held, along with the legal work she'd done in recent years.

She'd moved to New York two years after Will had died once her divorce had been finalized. She'd done well in the six years she'd spent there. Her name, and Cavanaugh, Agos, and Lockhart, had landed near the top of numerous top firms, and most qualified attorneys lists. Taking on a fair number of pro-bono cases, along with her wealthy clientele, had given her the reputation of being a representative of the people, not just the wealthy.

Heart pounding, her lungs about to give way, she rounded the last corner of the trail just as the sun decided to show its face over the horizon. She slowed to a walking pace, when another runner across the way caught her attention. She couldn't keep from turning around, being struck by the familiarity in his features.

"Stupid," she whispered, turning back around to head for home. Twenty minutes later as she showered, allowing the hot water to sooth her aching muscles, the sun shining in her eyes during her run would be her excuse for thinking the other runner had been Will.

She shook her head. She knew it was ridiculous and pushed the image out of her mind as familiar, strong arms wrapped around her middle. She smiled and turned to face him, pressing a kiss to his lips. She loved it when he joined her in the shower.

"How was your run?" James asked, reaching for the bar of soap on the small shelf just above her.

"Good. It cleared my mind for the day," she replied, rinsing the rest of the soap out of her hair.

James was tall, with dark brown hair, green eyes, and nearly always carried a smile that sent flutters through her body. They had been together for two years now. They'd met in New York at a charity ball. He was a professor of History. He was intelligent, funny, and incredibly calm.

In her mind, he was the perfect balance for her. They had plenty to talk about, had much in common as far as their interests. But one of the things she enjoyed most about him, was that he wasn't involved in the law on a daily basis. He kept up in her legal conversations, but when she was home with him the law wasn't the focus of their discussions. Since she'd met him, she'd had a life that existed outside of the law. Something that up until that point, she hadn't realized she'd wanted.

James made her happy. She'd finally opened up her heart and allowed herself to feel loved again. They'd both been married before, and when she'd finally agreed to allow him to move in with her a year after they started dating, she'd insisted that no matter how serious things became between them, she had no intentions of marrying again. That even if they decided at some point they wanted to spend the rest of their Ives together, they'd do just that. But she'd never be Mrs. anyone again.

That was a year ago. She'd softened her thoughts a bit on marriage in recent months, even though there was no indication from him that he wanted to make changes to their current arrangement. James had provided her with love and stability without making her feel she was losing her identity. He'd followed her to Washington after she'd accepted the Associate AG position, and took on a teaching position at Georgetown.

Everything was working for her at this point in her life. She was happy, successful, and would soon be adding Grandmother to her list of titles.

"How does your day look?" he questioned, as they continued to get ready for work.

"Not too busy. I'm filling in for John at FBI headquarters this morning to cover a deposition."

"Your first time at headquarters right?" he said, smiling at her through the vanity mirror.

"Yes. I hope I don't get lost. I've heard that building is like a maze. Afterwards, the rest of my day is filled with meetings."

She stood in front of the full-length mirror straightening out her dress. "I have loads of paperwork to do. It will take weeks to get through all the files on my desk. So, I can probably leave the office around seven-thirty if that's why you're asking." She turned to face him.

He placed his hands on her waist, smiling down at her. "Good. I'll make dinner reservations for eight-thirty then." He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips, and grabbed his suit coat to head off for work.

/

The idea of being at FBI headquarters was a bit daunting. The AG's office was the governing body within the United States Justice Department. The FBI was one of several governmental agencies that fell under their jurisdiction. They were to supervise and oversee many of the bureaus operations. Alicia's job this morning was to oversee the testimony of a woman who had information that would help take down a high-profile criminal the government had been trying to catch for a few years.

Since she was filling in for her colleague, she'd only learned the previous night that this witness would be entering the witness protection program once they had a sworn statement on record. The FBI would erase her identity, and help her disappear.

She wondered if this job would become less surreal overtime, people in real danger, testifying against high profile criminals, and then their identities being completely erased. It seemed more like the makings of a movie plot, than her real-life work.

What an awful reality, she thought, as she entered the building. To have to sever ties with everyone you know. Luckily this woman had no significant other, or children that would need to be relocated with her, or left behind.

Three hours later, she was packing up with everyone else. The U.S. Marshall in charge of protecting the witness was explaining to her what would happen next. Only that he, and another agent, would be escorting her to a safe-house. No one in the room, other than the U.S. Marshall, was privy to the location of the safe-house. Alicia knew there were safe houses all over the country, but she didn't know where any of them were. That kind of information was above her security clearance. It was safer for everyone that way.

Paying little attention to what was going on around her, Alicia pulled her bag over her shoulder, and grabbed a few files off the table while trying to read through some email on her phone. Just moments later, the door to the conference room opened.

"Agent Maxwell," the U.S. Marshal, commented.

The familiarity of the voice that returned a kind greeting caused Alicia to look up from her phone.

A wave of recognition and confusion rushed through her body as her eyes rested on the man across the room from her – Finn Polmar. She and Finn had kept in touch over the years, but...

"Finn?" she questioned, taking a few steps towards him. "What are you doing here?" She furrowed her brow.

Finn met her gaze, looking as surprised as she was. But she immediately became aware of the worry and hesitancy she saw in his eyes.

"Oh no," he breathed, under his breath. "Alicia…hi," he said, guardedly. "I didn't know you'd be here," he said, glancing over at another agent in the room, as Alicia stepped closer to him.

"Yeah, it happened last minute. I'm filling in for a colleague. But…" she was trying very hard to figure out what was going on. "I didn't know you were working for the FBI now. When did that happen? It's only been what, four or five months since we last talked?"

He seemed nervous, and she couldn't understand it. No one else in the room seemed to be aware of the awkwardness that now surrounded them.

The U.S. Marshall was ready to leave with the witness. "We need to head out Agent Maxwell," the man said, over Finn's shoulder.

A knot formed in Alicia's stomach. "Agent Maxwell?" she said, in a lower confused tone.

"I'll be right there," Finn called, keeping his eyes on Alicia. He reached for her arm, and led her away from the others in the room.

"Finn, what's going on?" She was still in shock over even seeing him here. Let alone, hearing others call him by a different name.

He sighed nervously, running a hand through his hair. "Alicia, I knew once you started working for the department of justice there was a chance this might happen. I don't have time to explain right now. I'm not," his hand went to his chin, and he looked away trying to decide what he should or should not say to her.

She waited patiently for a few seconds before he responded. "I'm not who you think I am." The words hung in the air. A torrent of emotion came over her. She was confused, but even more she felt a hint of anger coming over her.

"I don't have time to explain right now. I'll be back in D.C. next week. I'll call you. We can get together, and I'll explain." He looked at her as if this would be enough information until he got back into town.

She stood there dumbfounded, staring at him trying to comprehend what was going on, her head spinning with all kinds of thoughts.

He moved closer to her. She stepped back a bit. "Alicia, I know this is confusing, I'll explain when I get back. I promise."

"Confusing? Yes, this is confusing, Finn. Is that even your real name? We've known each other for eight years. Are you telling me that when we met you were really this, this, Agent Maxwell?" she said, with a hint of anger, keeping her tone down as best she could. They were still surrounded by colleagues. She wanted to scream, but managed to stay composed, something she'd perfected over what seemed like a millennia, out of necessity. She was upset. Finn had lied to her – for years. Of all the things she disliked, being lied to by people she trusted, was at the top of her list.

"Alicia, I'm sorry, but I have to go." He turned and walked in the direction of the door.

At least he'd looked sincere and apologetic when he'd said he was sorry. She leaned back against the wall, pretending to be distracted with her phone so she could compose herself before leaving the building.

She tried to block everything out of her mind as she made her way back to her car. Once safely inside the vehicle, she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes taking in a few deep breaths. It was all so overwhelming she couldn't do anything but laugh out loud for a few seconds.

Maybe it wasn't fair, but she felt betrayed, and angry. She'd shared a lot of personal things with Finn. She'd trusted him. She'd considered him a good friend, and now this? Shaking her head in frustration, she turned the car on and headed back to her office.

Skipping lunch, she sat at her desk scrolling through the FBI personnel database for Agent Maxwell. There were quite a few Maxwells to go through. Thanks to personnel photos it didn't take long to find Finn's.

His real name was Steven Finn Maxwell. As she read through his information she realized Finn hadn't lied to her about everything. He was from New York. He had been married, and he did have a son. Her nerves calmed a bit thinking he probably hadn't lied to her about his wife's miscarriage all those years back. He had also been a licensed attorney prior to his days with the agency. This information made her feel a little better until she saw his hire date.

March 2011. Three years before Will had been killed. Not that his false name hadn't already given it away, but that solidified her suspicions that he'd been working undercover when they'd first met on the day of the shooting. The thought sent shivers down her spine.

Suddenly she remembered something the judge had said to her that day when she'd gone to the courthouse to see the crime scene. The judge had mentioned Finn, and when she questioned him, not recognizing Finn's name, he'd said, "ASA Polmar. He's new, brought in from New York."

She leaned back in her chair, staring across the room. If Finn had been working undercover at the time, what had he been investigating? Peter's voter fraud? Had he been in court so he could keep an eye on Will? Had the investigation into Peter really gone that far? No, she thought. The voter fraud investigation had gone away after Will died. And Finn had stayed in Chicago for nearly another year afterwards. It had to be something else. Maybe he had been there investigating the judge, or other ASA's at the State's Attorney's office.

Noticing the time, she sighed. She had a meeting in five minutes. She stood, gathering the items from her desk she would need. She was dying to know what Finn had been investigating all those years back. Hopefully her new-found security clearance would be enough for her to gain access to some old files, and figure it out. But it would have to wait. Her plate was full for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, she knew her other tasks would do little to ease her curiosity and the overwhelming feeling that discovering Finn's identity was merely the tip of the iceberg.