Blackout
by: raileht
Summary: It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.
Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.
Rating: T, to be safe
Spoilers/Timeline: post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.
Warning: Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted. Don't say I didn't warn you, okay?
Warning#2: Can this be considered AU? Yes, probably. AU-ish.
Chapter Title taken from:
Maroon 5, Goodnight, Goodnight
-o0oo0oo0o-
Chapter One: Goodnight, Goodnight
"Jesus Christ, Diane, what the hell were you thinking?"
The few employees left in the building could clearly hear the partners of Lockhart & Gardner going at it once again. For the past few days, tensions had been higher than normal and the rumor mill was buzzing as to why the usually professional partners could not seem to stay in one room lately. It was becoming normal custom to hear them fighting after business hours now, voices being raised at each other almost viciously behind the non-sound proofed and all glass offices of both partners.
It had been a few months since the third senior partner, Jonas Stern had left, and once again, the rumor mill kept everyone well informed of what had been happening and what could happen. Stern had left with his golden parachute, taking quite a large third of the firm's profits that led his remaining former protégé and associate to make some drastic cost-cutting. It had started with the lay-offs, the elimination of unnecessary miscellaneous things in the office like the fresh flowers every morning and then, sadly, a few more lay offs.
There had been talk that the decision to find a third partner was the final course of action that had been decided upon. And as the rumor mills had reported, the search for the third partner had been unsuccessful as a few known names walked in and out of meetings with Diane Lockhart and Will Gardner. The buzzing predicted that if in maybe three or four months with no signs of a good potential third, the firm would be split in two where each partner would take his or her half, the people willing to go with whoever they decide and start new firms separately.
Diane and Will had tried to keep it quiet, but the rumors flew anyway. Observant eyes and ears, plus the hole they were yet to find out about from the signage they changed helped their employees figure out and speculate what was happening behind closed doors. The partners were also unaware, of course, that someone in the break room had already started a list of pros and cons as to who the employees should consider going with. Another started a pool on how long Lockhart & Gardner had left.
A few, though this one they were aware of, had already been planning to send out résumés to other firms, particularly the firm Stern recently launched that was still in the process of taking in new associates.
"How dare you?"
"How dare—! Tell me, since when do you take cases from animal rights activists, Diane?"
Those who had decided to burn the midnight oil that night decided it would be best to duck out now. Both partners were in Diane Lockhart's office, neither of their voices lowering and clearly showing no signs that this argument was ending any time soon.
"I defended that kid against criminal charges! Her brutality suit will be filed against the police department and the city! Wentworth & Lennox just happened to be the location! There is no conflict of interest."
"Oh, just happened to be the location?" Will Gardner's voice boomed with incredulity just as three associates moved quietly towards the elevators, avoiding eye contact with each other and hoping they wouldn't have to take long to get down to the garage. As valuable as information may be, they didn't want to be seen.
"Did you even care that Wentworth & Lennox are owned by the same parent? You didn't, did you? You just came right in for another of your goddamned pet causes!" Will growled. "Dr. Coolidge called me, Diane! My partner is representing the group that picketed his company! My partner! Do you have any idea how that looks?"
"My client had no adverse interest to the—"
"Oh, cut the bullshit!" Will interrupted. "She helped ruin their reputatin! They're just a quiet Dutch company and you and your pet cause managed to torpedo that with your goddamned case! It's a PR nightmare, for god's sake! They're ready to walk, Diane, do you understand that?"
"Don't you dare start being condescending, Will," Diane hissed in a dangerously low voice.
"Why not? They bring money that we need," he replied, unfazed by the anger he could see raging in her eyes. "They can actually pay for their billable hours, unlike your pro-bono pet—"
"I pull my own weight around here!" she defended angrily, insulted at his insinuation that she was weighing them down. "Those pet causes I do matter and they may be pro bono but damn it, my billings are equal to yours. In fact, if I'm remembering correctly, weren't they better last year?"
"I have to look to the future," he responded. "I want to go further into the drug company business. The money—"
"That's what's it all about, isn't it, Will?" she cut in with a slight hiss. "The money."
"Oh, is that a bad word now?" he replied sarcastically. "I shouldn't dare make more than a hundred grand to keep this firm? God forbid."
"You used to say you didn't need fifty."
"That was then," he replied. "This is now and I want a future. I want too look to the future and I may not have had the cushy Lockhart life with the handy trust fund, but—"
"Excuse me?"
"Come off it, Diane," Will said, shaking his head slightly as he tucked his hands into his pocket. "You don't need the money, we both know it, so you're fine taking on those pro bono clients. But we're not the same. We actually had to work for our careers to get by—"
"HOW DARE YOU?" she suddenly snarled, eyes wide as she clenched her fists at her sides. She was tempted to lash out physically, to hit him just for saying that. She'd never felt so violent before, she was so angry her entire body shook.
"Well, it's true!" he replied heatedly. "You have the money and you may not want a family and a future, but I DO. I want the future, I want to have a firm—"
"And I don't?"
"You can afford not to!"
"That's bullshit and you know it!" she retaliated as she took a step closer towards him. She could barely feel her sharp nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms and completely missed the blood that seeped from the crescent moon cuts. "I worked to build this firm, just as much as you did and I WORKED my ass off for it! Blood, sweat and tears, Will, I did it ALL just as you did."
"You actually have a fall back, we don't," Will retorted. "It's not easy—"
"And you think it's easy for me?" Diane replied angrily though she managed to keep her voice down this time. This was their third fight of the week and she was exhausted. She'd barely gotten enough sleep in the past few days, not that anyone knew. Tonight, she desperately needed a break. They'd said enough to each other and lately, it was always the same thing. Diane was tired already. If Will wanted to fight, there was always tomorrow.
"We made sacrifices, Will, all of us did," she said in a low voice. "I gave up a lot to be here and I'm telling you now, don't you dare belittle that just because you're angry."
"Diane—"
"Will, enough," she raised her hand, palm outward and Will didn't miss the tiny drops of blood that had begun to bead on her pale skin. "I'm done…it's enough."
"What?" he asked, surprised. She never backed down from a fight, especially when she needed to defend herself. Did she mean she was done for the night or was she done?
"I'm going home," she said, shaking her head as she turned to grab her bag. Will had managed to ambush her when she was just about to leave and the moment they'd begun raising their voices at each other, she had thrown her things onto her desk with the knowledge that it was going to be a while before she would be able to truly leave.
"We are not finished here, Diane."
"And we won't be for a while," she replied with a slight nod as she slipped her dark coat back on. "I told you, we're heading into a bad time and fighting about this all night won't fix it. In fact, it'll make things worst…we've said some things, Will, we should stop before we say anything more…permanently damaging."
"Diane—"
"We were friends before," she cut in softly. "I don't want to sacrifice that as well just because times are hard. We're hurting each other already, Will."
Will nodded, exhaling slowly as he silently acknowledge that she was right. They had hurt each other already and tonight, he'd drawn the most blood. He had cut through the business and into her personal life, which was uncalled for. They were friends once, but after tonight, he wasn't so sure anymore.
"We should stop before we completely alienate each other," she finished. "And that's one thing the firm doesn't need, should we still decide to keep it." She took a deep breath as her eyes met his. "Goodnight, Will. Turn the lights out when you leave."
He barely had the time to reply as she pulled the doors of her office open and walked out. He stood there, in the middle of the now empty room. Things were getting complicated. What were they doing? They were ripping each other apart.
Will sighed deeply, massaging his temples with a slight hum. He needed to get himself together and though he was tempted to call Diane back, he knew he shouldn't. She'd been looking run down the past couple of days, despite the impeccable suits and flawless make up. It had already gotten to the point where she couldn't cover them with cosmetics anymore and Will knew that meant she desperately needed a break.
He would talk to her tomorrow.
-o0o-
After picking up Justice from Doggy Day Care and once again paying extra for being late in picking him up, Diane bundled up her little furry companion and sat him down on the passenger seat after receiving a series of dog kisses. Justice was mostly a well behaved dog and tended to miss her when she was gone for too long, which was why Diane thought he was perfect for her.
She had joked a few times that having Justice was better than a man. She could leave him in day care, have him pampered and by the end of the day, he'd still kiss her hello without pouting because she was once again late. It was the ideal relationship for a very busy lawyer like herself.
Driving home as Justice dozed in his basket strapped properly to the seat while Bach played in the background, Diane let the music relax her after a stressful end to her workday. She was thankful Justice wasn't easily bothered by loud music when she decided to raise the volume a few notches higher in an effort to drown out Will's echoing voice in her head.
If she let her thoughts go back to her office and what had just taken place, she was sure she would only get mad again. And with the long commute to her lakeside home, she didn't want to feel those negative emotions again. She didn't want to take them home with her, didn't want to go to bed angry. She'd have enough time for all those tomorrow.
Diane sighed, already feeling fatigue begin to settle deeper into her bones. She craved a long, luxurious bath, but in her state, she was sure to fall asleep in the tub and risk drowning. Maybe getting to bed as soon as humanly possible was a better idea.
A yawn escaped her lips and Diane decided, yes, bed it was.
-o0o-
Pulling into her garage Diane eased Justice from her basket, her bag hanging securely from her arm. It was only then she realized she had forgotten to bring her briefcase full of her files. Usually, she would have been upset, but tonight she was fine. She knew she was toeing the line of her limit and even if she'd brought her case files home, she wouldn't have even been able to take them out. She'd fall asleep on them anyway.
"Come on, darling," she said to Justice as she began to squirm in her arms and just as she slammed her door closed, the furry animal managed to wiggle out of her grasp, jumping easily to the ground and scrambling towards the door that would lead into the house. Tiny paws scratched at the door, demanding to be let in.
"I'm coming, you nag," she muttered after making sure the doors of her car were locked as well as her garage. She lived in a safe community called Barrington Lake and though it was not as A-list as the famed Highland Park, there were still a few residents who opted for the smaller community for the privacy and security it offered.
Like Highland Park, Barrington Lake was a little far from the city and it usually meant that Diane be up at five in the morning, be ready by six and leave by seven to make it to work a before eight. The commute was long, but Diane didn't mind. She liked being away from the hustle and bustle of every day life in the metropolis. She liked having a haven she could come home to away from everything. She loved being next to the lake and nature. It was the type of life she always dreamt.
But of course, there were times when work got too much too fast and the place she had in the city, the same place where she had grown up that her father had passed on to her, served as temporary respite in between time-consuming cases. It was a large house, the home of the previous generations of Lockharts had also occupied and while Diane loved that large house too, she preferred her quiet place by the lake. Occasionally, she stayed at the Lockhart House but only when she absolutely had to.
The Lockhart House was a piece of her family history in Chicago, but her home in Barrington Lake was just for her. Once a week, she had people clean the house and on holidays, should family members decide it was time to visit Diane and Chicago again, they stayed there where there were more than enough rooms for the remaining Lockharts.
"I'm coming," she said again, slipping the key into the door and pushing it open with one foot just as her bag slipped from her shoulder. Justice scrambled inside the dark house, right into the kitchen, and it was only then Diane wondered why all the lights were off when she scheduled them to turn on at an exact hour every day.
Reaching for the first switch, she pushed it to turn the kitchen lights on, but nothing happened. Frowning, she wondered if there was some sort of blackout or if something happened to the electricity. Damn, she really did not need this.
"Justice?" she called as she placed her things on the kitchen counter, one hand blindly digging into her purse for her phone. Barrington had an all-night service for emergencies such as this and Diane was thankful.
The house was dark enough for her to see just the outline of her hands but she knew her home enough to walk with a blindfold around and since she lived alone and was, as Will once put it delicately, a neat freak, there were little chances of her tripping over something. She was sure she kept a flashlight in the coat closet next to the entryway of the house.
"Justice?" she called again, only to receive hear him growl. "Justice?" she frowned. She'd never gotten a reaction like that from him before. Pressing 'enter' on her phone, she let it light up and guide her, her steps measured just in case Justice decided to show up and surprise her. She didn't want to end up stepping on him.
She heard him growl again and this time, Diane stopped. She was sure she was somewhere between the hall that led to the front entryway and the stairs. Not too far away, she could still hear Justice growling, but could not figure out at what.
Shaking her head, Diane dialed the number for the aide to help her with her electricity. She waited, leaning against wall and very much tempted to just slide down and sit. "Yes, this is Diane Lockhart and I was wondering if—" she stopped when she heard Justice bark then let out a loud cry followed by a pitiful whine. "Justice?"
Pushing against the wall she followed where she was sure the sound came from, the phone that was still connected to the aide, Mario, was immediately forgotten as she went to see what had happened to her dog. She was sure the sound came from the living room, just to the left of the entryway.
"Justice?"
This time, there was no reply or any sign of her dog. Diane could feel her heart beating wildly and her palms began to sweat. "Just-Justice?" suddenly, she was finding it quite hard to breathe properly. Where was that damned dog?
With one hand trailing against the wall, she took slow deliberate steps to the living room, making sure not to make any sounds or sudden movements. There was still no answer from Justice. She tried to look out for anything—sound, movement or whatever else that was out of place. Diane had the chilling feeling that she wasn't alone in the house.
There was barely a whoosh of air before a large, well-muscled arm wrapped itself around her neck, dragging her body back against a harder and definitely larger one. She let out a gasped but it was cut off by a choke hold. She dropped her phone just as a large hand came up and clamped itself over her mouth and nose, the grip hard enough to make her believe he was about to crush half of her face in one twitch. By instinct, her hands reached automatically with her sharp nails to try and remove the vice like grip that threatened to break her.
"I wouldn't scream," came the harsh whisper and she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. "Unless you want me to cut you, I wouldn't." The grip around her neck tightened and her body involuntarily jerked though she tried to will herself to stay calm. "Do you understand?"
She nodded, slowly and shakily.
"I'm going to remove my hand, make any sudden moves or scream and I will hurt you," the harsh whisper again. She nodded. She could taste fear in her mouth. "Put your hands down."
She did as she was told and felt his hand leave her mouth. She swallowed hard before gathering up the courage to speak, "What do you want? Take anything just—"
"Shut up," the pressure on her neck tightened. "No talking, just shut up."
"What do you want?" she hoped she could stall for time but she felt him push her harshly forward, making her stumble slightly. "There's no money in this house—"
"I said shut up!" he pushed her forward again and this time, she felt her foot brush something and propel it forward in one slide. She realized it must have been her phone. "Don't fuck with me, all right? I said shut up!"
There was a small table with a lamp on it not too far away and, by sheer impulse Diane kicked the table over, startling the intruder enough to jump as the loud crash echoed in the empty house. She grabbed the slim chance to slip out of his grasp, but not before she could slam one high heeled pump onto his foot and turn around and deliver a sharp blow to his nose. She missed by a few inches, but she managed to catch the side of her target as well as somewhere near his eye.
She heard him bellow as she bent down in a desperate effort to grab her phone and as if the gods were on her side, she managed to feel it with her fingers and made a quick grab for it. She scrambled to her feet and took off just as he screamed, "You bitch!"
Diane took the window of opportunity she had created for herself and raced down towards the end of the hall. It would lead her with three places to go: living room, the drawing room and the stairs that would lead her up to the second floor. Barely thinking coherently, she raced up the steps, taking them two at a time. She hoped if she put enough distance between them, she could slip into her bedroom door where there was a phone and a lock. She'd find something to defend herself with there, maybe the poker from her fireplace.
But she was only halfway up when she felt a hand clamp around her ankle and screamed when she was suddenly pulled down. The momentum caused her flail helplessly and fall against the steps, her temple meeting the carpeted step with a loud thud as well as her elbow. She hissed as the pain radiated all the way down to her arm. Her head spun.
"You'll pay for that, you bitch," she heard him hiss as he manhandled her, pulling her down and turning her around to slam her back against the steps, knocking the wind out of her. "I'm done being nice," he snarled then slammed the back of his hand against her cheek in full force.
Her head snapped to the side and immediately she could taste the metallic taste of blood, bitter against her tongue and it filled her mouth. She spat out blood, letting them land on the carpet underneath her. She moaned as her head continued to spin. "Oh, god…"
She felt him pick her up, grabbing her by the arms and dragging her back down the stairs. She was still a little disoriented from the blow to her head, but she was coherent enough to wonder where she'd put her phone and with utter dismay, realized she had dropped it again.
God, she thought fearfully as she was jostled down the stairs with each shove, she was going to die. Tonight, in her own home she was about to be murdered.
They reached the first landing that met the wall and he shoved her again, hard enough for her shoulder to slam against the concrete. Everywhere hurt and Diane let her body roll and braced her back against the wall. She crouched, knowing that if she straightened up she would only get more pain and looked up just in time to see his silhouette loom above her.
"I'll make you pay," he hissed and in the darkness, Diane could see his hand reach out to her. She was going to die tonight, but damn it, she wasn't going give in easily. She was going to fight, even if she knew she wouldn't win in the end. She would die fighting.
Breathing heavily, she waited until he was close enough before she reached out and slammed her fist to the side of his head while her other hand dug into his face, with a cry her long fingernails viciously raked starting from the corner of his eye and down to his cheek.
He howled again as he brought his hand to his face and at the same time lashed out in retaliation, shoving her hard and making her fly off the landing and off the two last steps of the stairs in the turn. She flailed, barely able to hold on to the banister before she regained her footing.
She lost one shoe and decided to kick the other one off before forcing herself to run again in the darkness, hoping beyond hope she would at least make it to her kitchen. There, she would find something to defend herself with.
Heart pounding and covered in sweat, she hurried down the hall and she made the last turn to her kitchen where she had left her bag and coat on the counter. She ignored them and hurried to her drawers and pulled out the largest knife she could find. Turning around and making sure the cabinets were to her back and she had the advantage of having the kitchen island in case she needed a quick getaway. Diane held the chef's knife at a safe, but defensive distance, breathing heavily and her heart barely able to keep up.
The taste of blood was still present in her mouth, but she didn't care. She had a madman to defend herself from and only had a knife as a weapon. By god, she'd taken classes on self-defense, but those had been incredibly basic. She didn't even have a clue on how to use a knife, but she had no choice. She'd make do with what she had.
Briefly, she entertained the idea of running outside and screaming for help, but she knew the doors of her garage would be too slow. She would barely be out before he would catch her and if he did, she was as good as dead, no matter who might hear her scream.
Diane waited in the dark, waited for him to stumble back in and make her pay. She would stab whatever the hell she could reach, dehumanize him and forget he was anyone's something because the reality of the situation was, it was her or him and there was no way in hell she would let it be her. She had too much to live for still.
She wasn't ready to die.
Diane heard shuffling noises and felt her entire body tense then freeze. Her hand tightened its hold on the knife while the other shakily pushed her hair out of her face. It was dark enough, she didn't need errant strands of her hair distracting her. She swallowed nervously, feeling the saliva mixed with blood go down in with that disgusting metallic taste she so hated.
She heard steps that continued to get closer and her body involuntarily shifted, one foot transferring one weight to another to balance herself properly. With each step that drew closer, she found herself breathing heavier.
"I'm gonna enjoy making you pay, Lockhart," she heard him say in that harsh whisper again and she could feel the malice in his voice. She suppressed a shiver and held on to the knife with both hands. "Come on, bitch, give me the best you got."
The moon was high enough to shed a little light into the kitchen and she could see his silhouette as he stalked into the room and she knew he could see her as well. What about the knife? She was sure he saw that too.
He began to laugh, "What are you gonna do? Stab me? Go ahead, lady. I dare you."
Faster than she could anticipate, he charged at her, his large body surprisingly maneuvering around the island easily. He rammed his body against hers, effectively pinning her against the cabinets and knocking the wind out of her, but Diane held on desperately to the knife even as she screamed out in pain. He had effectively crushed her with one blow that almost left her completely breathless.
He raised his fist to strike her again, but she cut him off with a slash of the knife, grunting as she did so. Hearing him scream was enough to let her know she'd managed to draw blood. She heard him actually growl as she tried to push him off, only to have him grab her around the neck again.
Diane's eyes widened as she watched her own arm arch down and slice cleanly through her thick muscled attacker, cutting deeply into the skin of his forearm. He screamed and one hand left the ring around her neck, the injured one flailing as blood began to flow from the deep cut.
"Fucking bitch," he growled again, squeezing her neck tighter and this time, his injured hand made a grab for the knife. His hand reached for the blade itself and Diane let out a choked scream. She twisted the knife and heard him growl again but refused to let go. Blood began to slip through his fingers and down to his wrist.
He was successfully cutting the air from her neck even as they fought and the more effort she exerted, the more oxygen her body demanded. She needed to get him off her before she passed out from lack of air. Viciously, she slashed at the arm of the hand holding on to her slim neck and rammed her knee against his groin. He let out a choked grunt as he curled up in pain, effectively letting her neck free. Diane felt the pointed end of the blade dig into his skin and with a jolt, she plunged the knife deeper into his flesh.
"Fuck!" he screamed, startling her with a hard shove, his bloody hand reaching for the newest damage Diane had caused. "I'm going to cut you in pieces, you fucking bitch!"
Diane jumped aside, blood covered knife still held in hand and tried to run only to have him grab a part of her blouse, pulling hard then grabbing a fistful of her hair. She screamed.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he yelled with a hard jerk, pulling her head back ruthlessly. He reached for her wrist and twisted it awkwardly, making Diane cry out and drop the knife. It fell to the floor in a loud clatter. "Not so powerful now, are you?"
"You can't win," he hissed as he pulled her closer to him, her back to his front, then unceremoniously launched her body forward. She tripped and fell against the island, her stomach colliding with a sharp edge of a corner. She gasped in pain and slowly slid to the floor.
Diane felt the tears come as she curled up in a ball with her arms around her severely throbbing middle, the pain greater than she'd ever felt. This was it, she thought mournfully as a sob escaped her throat, she was about to die. It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was in pain and nearing total exhaustion.
She was about to die.
"It was fun while it lasted," he whispered as he gingerly walked towards where she lay helplessly curled up on her kitchen floor. He raised his foot high up in the air.
"No…" she managed to moan as he saw him position his foot above her prone form. He could crush her easily with one foot and end it all, she thought fearfully. This was it.
He was going to finish her off in her own home.
With wide eyes, she watched as his boot came at her faster than a freight train before she could close her eyes. Diane could only let out a small scream as pain exploded everywhere once again and everything went completely black.
Silence reigned.
Breathing heavily, the burly man standing over the form of the fallen woman grabbed the deep cut on his forearm. He waited a few moments to see if she would get up again. He had severely underestimated her, he thought angrily. The bitch put up a hell of a fight.
He waited for her to move but she didn't. He smirked and shook his head. A hell of a fight, but she didn't have a chance. His job was done and now it was time to go he decided and made his way to the back of the house, turning only once to make sure she hadn't gotten up.
She didn't and in fact, he wasn't even sure if she had stopped breathing already. It didn't matter. He'd done a number on her, if she wasn't dead yet, it was only a matter of time and knowing her, nobody was going to find the body until the end of the next day at the earliest. She would die, slowly.
He smirked, "Goodnight, Diane."
The bitch deserved it.
-o0o-
What the hell was he doing?
Will wondered not for the first time as he drove through the winding roads late in the night. After his discussion with Diane, he had desperately tried to continue the work he had left hanging before he went to confront her. He had sat there, trying to relax by tossing around his lucky baseball before finally deciding to go after her. Unfortunately, by then she'd been gone. It took him less than five minutes to decide to follow her.
It wasn't any sort of excuse, but everything he had said that night had been out of surprise and anger. After the last few days, he hadn't really planned on having another fight with his partner. He'd honestly been trying not to cause the already existing rift between them to widen, but he'd been so taken aback he hadn't been able to help himself.
It had always been common knowledge that Will was the confrontational one while Diane was the more rational and quiet one. Stern on the other hand had been, for want of a better term, the wild card.
Tonight had been a disaster, he realized, as he recalled the things he had said. Suddenly, even if he was rarely one to apologize, he wanted nothing more than to apologize to Diane. The things he had said had been hurtful and almost vicious, completely unfair to her, and he knew he could be considered lucky if she even let him walk away alive tonight.
It was fairly late, nearly thirty minutes after she had said good night, and Will knew he was risking upsetting her more by waking her up after a none to pleasant end to the day, but somehow, he couldn't help the urge to go to her place right then, if only to begin to make right the things that had gone so horribly wrong between them.
They'd agreed long ago business was business and personal things stayed way outside the office. Tonight, Will knew he had crossed the line so far it was already miles behind him, and he wanted nothing more to change that. He hadn't lied when he said he respected her because he truly did. He valued not only having the opportunity to work with her, but also to have had the pleasure and privilege to be the very few people in her circle she trusted not only with her work, but with her personal life as well.
Of course, the same could not be said for the last few weeks, and Will was beginning to truly regret that now that he had stepped back and surveyed what had been happening between them lately. Except for the last 'discussion' about the ballistics expert, which he'd only found out because of the case, he really didn't know anything about her life at the moment.
In fact, he hadn't even been able to ask her about her somewhat radical change of taste in men. Kurt McVeigh had been the cowboy type—plaid shirt, boots, facial hair and drove a pickup, something he had never imagined her to be interested in. He was sure she was more for the Malcolm Overby type—three piece suit, Italian shoes, clean cut and with a matching Mercedez or Bentley. It had been something he had meant to talk about with her as well, not to reprimand, but rather to catch up.
It was obvious there had been something between them when she came in as he talked to Kurt. He'd seen Diane flirt enough times to know when she was doing it and right then, she'd been doing just that. The poor bastard could barely keep his eyes away from her legs and she knew it. Will was sure that was her reason for going in and sitting like that. She was one of the classiest flirters Will had ever encountered—subtle, but clear, provocative but not vulgar.
Will smirked as memories trundled on by, reminding him what a spitfire his partner had always been. He couldn't really blame the cowboy for staring. He was a man, after all. If this were the past, Will would have asked her to share a drink after work then discuss her new friend, tease her and laugh about it. They liked chatting when there wasn't too much work. It was relaxing.
Which only made Will regret the way things were turning out even more.
Diane had been right, once they had been friends. It was time Will started rectifying that. The firm was not doing well and they were in danger of things falling completely apart, he didn't want to end up losing both his partner and his friend. Diane had already expressed she felt the same way.
Of course, he wasn't sure if restoring their personal relationship tonight was a good idea, but Will could not help himself. He strongly felt this dark cloud that hung over them had been around long enough. He would try and make her listen, if only for a little tonight then he would let her go back to bed. He'd even try and go as far a ordering her to take at least half the day off the next day. He could only imagine how she would react to that.
He laughed. Yeah, right. The woman was a notorious workaholic. She didn't achieve her numerous accomplishments by taking days off and weekend breaks. In fact, Will wasn't even sure if the word 'day off' was ever uttered voluntarily by her when the subject was her. He could remember a few times in the years they'd worked together where her wild card mentor, Stern, had ambushed her just to make her get a few days off to catch a break.
Will wasn't a fan of Jonas Stern, but for all his rebellion and Peter Pan Syndrome-like behavior, he could acknowledge that Stern had taken care of Diane a few times that stopped her from burning out. The old crone had ambushed Diane many a times with tickets to some off and away place for a few days to help her recharge. As expected, Diane kicked and screamed, but followed anyway—she respected and revered her mentor too much to disobey.
Stern had sat back in his office after one of his rescue missions concerning Diane one time and Will couldn't help but comment that he'd done a good thing. The scruffy older man had shrugged and muttered it was just his way of 'taking care of his assets'. They left it at that.
With Stern gone, Will knew he would have to take up that task or else have Diane burn out, or worse, work herself to death. The last thing Stern had done was send Diane to a spa after a particularly grueling case that had taken all three of them along with an army of their associates to tackle down. Diane had stayed up for most of almost two weeks with less than three hours of sleep each day—mostly in the firm—and functioned only through tumblers full of coffee, alcohol and a few bites just enough for a bird.
By the end, she had all but collapsed in her office. Stern managed to lull her into sleep and left her waking up in an exclusive club in Chicago where she'd been treated to a three-day revitalization plan and hadn't been allowed to leave, under Stern's orders, until day four. Diane came back, four full days later, looking wonderfully healthy again to her mentor's approval.
Remembering how tired she looked tonight, Will wondered if another ambush was due again. He would try that club tomorrow, maybe he could get Diane in and once he did, all he'd need to do was convince her to go. No way in hell he would be able to get away with things the way Stern did. It was impossible.
Shaking his head, he made the turn to her driveway, only to find the house completely dark. Damn, he thought, she was sleeping already. Will was tempted to turn back and go home to his condo in the city instead, but decided against it. He'd driven all this way, out in the middle of practically nowhere, he wasn't going to waste all that just to stand outside her house.
Killing his engine, he slipped out of his car and as he moved to activate his alarm system, he felt a whoosh of air behind him. He turned only to see nothing except the various 'nature things' that Diane loved so much about the place. He had grown up a city boy and though he was up for anything, nature was not totally his avenue. The most experience he'd had as a child had been camping with his fellow boy scouts.
And if he remembered correctly, he hadn't enjoyed it all that much. Will had almost lost his set of lucky baseball cards that he, up until now, kept safely guarded. He would have really lost his mind if his prized collection had fallen in the lake because that jerk Preston Wright decided it would be funny try to push him into the water.
In Diane's Barrington Lake home, trees and plants and bushes were everywhere and she even had a small rose garden somewhere her house, if he remembered correctly. Though, of course, he knew she wasn't the one responsible for growing them for obvious reasons, but he knew she liked looking at them. It was one of the few well kept secrets in the firm that the Queen was fond of red roses, gardenias and Casablanca lilies.
Will always marveled at how different Diane Lockhart the top Chicago litigator and Diane Lockhart the common citizen could be. The woman was a walking riddle and he had long ago given up trying to figure her out and instead accepted what came to him. So far, he hadn't been disappointed yet. Not that he ever expected to.
Tucking his car keys into his pocket, he headed to the front of her house. He would ring the doorbell, expect her to growl and bite his head off for waking her up then, if she wasn't too pissed off, let him in. If he was lucky, maybe she'd even let him stay in one of her guest rooms. If all that went as planned, of course, he'd had to get up before the crack of dawn to make it to his place and change to be in time for work, but Will didn't mind. He was used to getting little sleep.
Looking around, Will pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his hand as he made his way to her front door. He took a deep breath before pressing the doorbell. The melodious chime echoed throughout the house.
No answer.
He tried again and waited, and found the same result. Sighing, he began to knock, "Diane? You awake? It's Will…I know it's late, but need to talk to you."
Shaking his head, he knocked again, "Diane? Come on, it's Will…I'm not here to fight, I swear. I just came to talk...Diane?"
Frowning, Will decided to try the doorknob and was immediately surprised to find it was unlocked. Diane wouldn't normally leave doors unlocked, especially at her house. It was very much unlike her. Gingerly, he turned the knob, "Diane?"
Swallowing hard and feeling like he was in a bad cliché slasher film, Will tried to forget the foolishness he was feeling and pushed the door open slowly. If she was waiting with a lamp ready to break on his head, he would have to be careful.
"Diane? You here?" he tried reaching where he could remember the light switch was and found it. With an easy flick of his finger, the lights on the entryway immediately came to life. "Diane?"
The first thing he saw wasn't Diane, but rather, the shoes she'd worn that day. He wasn't the type to remember women's fashion, but he remembered that particular pair as the ones she had promised to bludgeon him with one day after a particularly playful argument. They were plain black with high, high heels. He also remembered the designer had a funny name.
Jimmy Choo. The moment she'd uttered the name, he had laughed and repeated it over and over again, much to her annoyance. Rolling her eyes, she then repeated a revised version of her threat and this time dictated he was never allowed to say that name ever again lest be bludgeon to death by her favorite Choos.
The said pair of shoes were far apart from each other, the first at the landing of the stairs leading to the second floor of the house and the other was a few feet away in front of him, both turned on its side as if they'd been carelessly dropped.
Diane had always been a neat person and Will wondered what would compel her to leave her things lying around like that, especially the shoes she claimed to love. Frowning deeper, he looked further into the house and found an overturned small table by the wall and an antique Tiffany lamp lay broken in pieces next to it.
Will felt his heart begin to race as he finally accepted that something was indeed wrong with the whole situation and he feared something terrible had happened to Diane.
"Diane?" he called again as he carefully made his way into the house. He switched on the lights in his way, waited then went on, looking into each area before proceeding deeper. "Diane? Can you hear me? Answer me!"
Heading towards the kitchen, the shuffling sound caught Will's attention from behind and he turned, fists raised high in the air only to find no one. He looked down and realized, a few feet away, a limping Justice was slowly making his way to Will, emerging from the living room.
"Justice," he said to the dog, cursing him slightly for scaring him so much. He went to the dog and scratched him behind the ear comfortingly as he surveyed the damage. It looked as if his left hind leg was broken. "Where's your mistress, boy? Is she here? Did she go out to get you something for your leg, huh?"
Will hoped to god Justice had just gotten hurt and Diane had decided to go out and get him something for it. The woman loved that mutt so much Will wouldn't be surprised if she got out of bed at this time of night to get him something.
If she did, for tonight, he wouldn't say a thing as long as she was fine.
The dog whined pitifully and Will decided he really needed to find Diane. "Stay," he said to the dog who obediently followed, lying miserably on his side and continued to whimper. He made a mental note to mark this moment as the only time the mutt ever listened to him. Justice usually liked trying to take a chunk out of his favorite baseball or, sometimes, his hand.
Straightening up, Will continued to make his way towards the back of the house. With each step he took, each second that passed, he felt the increasing urge to find Diane more. Something had happened and all he wanted was to know she was okay.
Everything inside him screamed danger, all the warning signs telling him that something had gone horribly wrong. The warnings also told him to get out and get help, but he remained steadfast to his goal. He would find Diane and if something was wrong, they'd get the hell out. If she wasn't, then he would have to figure out what to do if he had to.
Will reached the end of the hall and entered into the darkened kitchen. The lights he'd turned on hadn't been enough and once again, Will tried to remember where the switch was. "Diane?" he called again as he felt the walls beside him.
No answer still and just as Will was about to call for her again, he felt the switch and pushed.
Lights illuminated the modernized and always immaculate kitchen. Diane enjoyed cooking and Will had spent a few times at her house for a few dinners and the occasional party and always, even as guests pooled everywhere, the kitchen was neat. Diane was always the perfect hostess.
Tonight though, that would not be the case for as soon as Will could see the room clearly, signs that there was something wrong jumped at him. Her coat was in a messy heap the floor, the one he'd seen her wear only less than an hour before. Her bag lay a few inches way, the contents spilled out everywhere as if someone had dumped them out, but the biggest sign that made Will begin to panic was the bloody knife near the island in the middle of the room.
Swallowing hard, Will forced himself to step closer, moving slightly to the side as he made his way around the island, making sure to avoid stepping into anything that wasn't the floor. Easing closer, the first thing he saw was a hand, the fingers curled and revealing perfectly manicured nails painted a vibrant fire engine red. Right away, he knew whose hand it was.
"Diane!" he raced next to her side, hesitating hands not entirely sure where to land. His mind went back to the blood on the floors and from where he knelt next to her, he could see drops of blood around her body but couldn't find the time to examine them more when there were important matters at hand.
He reached for the pulse point around her neck, pushing her hair aside and breathed in a sign of relief when he found one. "Diane, can you hear me?" he said as he took her state. He feared if he moved her too soon, he might cause more harm than good. "Diane, wake up…come on."
Will pulled out his phone, but his eyes were glued to the large gash on the side of her head and the blood that seeped out of the wound. Her eyes were closed, though he could also see small signs of a bruise beginning to form on the one side of her face that he could see. He dialed 911.
"This is Will Gardner and there's been…something-something's happened," he said into his phone, barely coherent as he did so, his hand landing gently against Diane's bruising cheek, if only to provide some comfort she probably could not even feel. "We're at Barrington Lake and my…she's been hurt. Please, hurry…the—"
"Hey!"
Jumping, Will stopped, wide eyed in surprise as he turned to see a large man standing only a few feet away, effectively blocking the way he'd come in.
"Who the hell are you?"
-o0oo0oo0o-
I have no beta so if there are typos, sorry. I tried editing as much as I possibly could.
Anyway, please, if you have time, please review. I'd love to hear feedback on this story. And hell, yeah, I admit I love reviews. Is that so bad?