A/N: Hi everyone! Another entry for sweetjamielee's "Everything Changes" 2014 ficathon. The prompt, from withkissesfour: Alicia/Will - "So I crawl back into your open arms."
This is based on the Coldplay song "Warning Sign." I really liked the idea of this being a Georgetown-era story. I could also see this song working for canon Alicia/Will post-Season 3, but that would be a sadder version of the story and, well, I like happy things and I know you guys do, too. :)
Will buys two bottles of red wine, two bottles of white wine, and the fanciest pint of dark chocolate ice cream his second-year-law-school-student-budget can buy them.
He buys red wine for a few reasons.
This is reason number one: Peter Florrick is a jackass.
She'd arrived in Evidence that chilly February morning at 8:59am, just under the wire, which had been Will's first inkling that something was wrong. Alicia was habitually (and somewhat annoyingly) ten minutes early to everything. He'd never beat her anywhere—not even to a coffee date or study session, and definitely never to class.
Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore jeans, winter boots, and a navy blue hoodie. None of this was unusual—it's what she usually wore on Fridays—but today, she wore no makeup or contacts. Will watched her wipe the droplets of snow from her glasses as she pulled the red notebook out of her backpack and sat poised, ready to take notes.
He wanted to say something to her, ask her if she was okay, but didn't have time before their professor began lecturing.
When class was dismissed, it was his first question.
"I'm—I'm fine," Alicia said, sort of dismissively. Of course she was fine. She didn't have the option to be anything but fine.
Will eyed her uncertainly. "Okay," he said slowly, not wanting to pry, all the while knowing something was definitely going on.
She swung her backpack over her shoulder and began to make her way down the stairs of the lecture hall. He joined her, and as soon as they entered the hallway, she stopped and turned to him.
"Peter and I broke up," she said simply, and Will struggled to push down the unwarranted happiness he felt in his chest.
"I'm sorry, Leesh," he said, and pulled her in for a hug.
Alicia let go and shrugged. "It's okay."
(It wasn't really okay, for reasons far beyond either of their current comprehensions, and Alicia knew this, but she didn't want to drag her friend into something he didn't need to worry about, so she decided to leave it at that.)
Will pushed his lower lip above his top lip, making a sad, almost puppy-dog-like face, his eyes full of concern. Alicia giggled; he always knew how to make her smile.
"Let's hang out tonight," he declared. "I will bring the wine and ice cream, you will supply your couch and movies."
"You don't have to," she protested, but he silenced her with a look.
"Okay," she acquiesced with a smile. "Seven?"
"I'll be there," Will said, and insisted on carrying her backpack all the way across campus to Legal Process and Society.
This is reason number two: Alicia likes white wine, and Will likes red wine, and he's trying desperately to get her to appreciate how great reds can be.
He chooses a merlot, something from Northern California that he knows will be a little sweet, and she'll appreciate that. She likes the sweet white wines she can drink easily, Moscatos and Rieslings, wines she doesn't have to pretend taste good. It's fair, really, for a woman of 24 to feel that way about wine, so he doesn't hold it against her.
But Will likes red wine, and he thinks there's a distinct possibility Alicia might someday like it, too.
This is reason number three: because the 12% alcohol by volume of red wine will get her drunk a lot faster than the 7.5% of her favorite blue-bottled Riesling.
And the faster she gets drunk, the faster she can start forgetting about Peter fucking Florrick.
He arrives at seven on the dot, and finds her dressed in flannel plaid pajama pants and the same Georgetown hoodie from earlier that day. A light dusting of snow has covered Washington D.C., so Will wipes his shoes on the mat before coming inside.
Alicia eyes the red wine suspiciously as she returns to her seat on the couch, and Will laughs.
If there's one thing Will Gardner understands about Alicia Cavanaugh, it's that she knows what she wants.
"Just try it," he pleads with her as he enters the kitchen, opening the second drawer from the top and rustling around for the corkscrew. "For me."
"For you," she tells him pointedly, pursing her lips a little. The skepticism is evident in her eyes, even from halfway across the room, but Will just smiles.
He pours it into glasses and hands her one, taking his seat next to her on the couch. She swirls it around in her glass and sniffs it a little.
"For me," he reminds her, and this is the encouragement she needs to finally take a sip.
Alicia pauses as she swallows the semi-sweet liquid, then shrugs a little. "It's…not bad," she admits, and Will pumps his fist in the air.
"Okay, okay," she says, laughing. "I get the point."
A couple hours pass, along with one movie, one bottle of wine, and the entire pint of ice cream. Will reveals to Alicia that chocolate and red wine go exceptionally well together, and she can't argue with that.
She opens the second bottle of merlot, and he's surprised, thinking she would be ready to switch to the blue bottles of Riesling, but she's surprised herself by liking the red so much.
By the time the second bottle of red wine is half-empty, Alicia is ready to offer a few confessions.
"I broke up with him," Alicia says out of nowhere, and Will pauses the movie. He says nothing, allowing her to continue if she wants. "It just…it wasn't right, you know? I think he loved me, but he wasn't always nice to me."
This is all she has to say for the moment; she grabs the remote from his hand and presses play, and it's another glass of wine later before she confesses something else.
"I'm sorry," she says, and Will pauses the movie again.
"For what? Leesh, you don't have anything to be sorry for."
"I do," she insists. "I do. I started dating Peter last summer and practically abandoned you. You're my friend. You didn't deserve that."
"You didn't abandon me," he reassures her, although he'd admitted to himself long ago it certainly felt like that. "You just spent more time with him. That's all."
"But you're my friend," she repeats, and it almost sounds like she's whining. "I didn't want to hurt you."
"It's okay," he whispers, and she leans her head on his shoulder as she hits play again.
The second bottle of merlot is empty when she offers the third and final confession.
"I started looking for things that were wrong," she says, and he looks at her, confused, not comprehending. "I needed a reason to break up with Peter," she clarifies, "because I missed you."
"I don't understand," Will says. "I've been here the whole time."
Alicia tries not to laugh, because his response is so very male of him, but she realizes she may not have been entirely clear, so she explains a little further.
"I was scared to be with you. I knew you liked me. And I liked you, too. I loved you. I love you," she adds, not wanting it to seem like her feelings are past-tense. "But you're my best friend, and you're so good to me, and I was scared I would mess everything up. So I started seeing Peter, and I started missing you. And then I realized Peter's a jackass, but I didn't know if you would still want me..."
Alicia trails off, avoiding Will's gaze.
"You don't have to be scared," he reassures her, reaching for her hand. She takes it, loosely, almost as if she doesn't want to accept it. "I love you, Leesh. You're my best friend. You're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. You're not going to mess anything up."
Alicia looks at him from beneath the dark brown bangs falling across her forehead, and she tries desperately not to cry as he holds his arms open to her. She practically crawls into his lap and tucks her head under his chin as he holds her tight.
"I would have waited my whole life for you," he says quietly.
For that, there are many reasons.
This is the reason that matters: Will Gardner's life is much darker without the light of Alicia Cavanaugh.
For that light, he would have waited.
(It's just better that he doesn't have to.)