A/N: New story! And it's a multi-chaptered one. I'm crazy, really, because I already have two WIPs for two other fandoms, but hey here we go. Read and review, please. You know, it makes me smile. Chapter two will be up by tomorrow, before the new episode airs.

Holding On And Letting Go

"It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't. It's one door swinging open and one door swinging closed."

Will sat in his car in front of his apartment building; the rain was falling onto his windshield and he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel of his black Audi in contemplation.

"You know it would be the smart move."

There were many things – most of them Will would deny to anyone but himself, he did not have the first clue about but he knew with a certainty he had not felt often that talking to Wendy Scott-Carr was not the smart move she had made it out to be mere hours ago.

He picked up his phone, scrolled down his address book to a familiar name and almost pressed call. His thumb was hovering over the button but his mind was denying his finger to act on what his heart so desperately wanted to do.

Call Alicia.

Will let the cell phone slide from his grasp onto the passenger seat and started the engine of his car.

He drove the familiar route to his work place, entered the parking garage and took the elevator up to his floor. No one was there when he reached Lockhardt/Gardner and he was glad. He walked over to his office and opened the door. Will walked to his desk and poured himself a glass of Scotch. He took a sip quickly before he sat down in the leather chair opposite his couch.

He looked out into the darkness of the night, watching the lights gradually being switched off in the office building opposite his. It was getting late, Will supposed, maybe even too late for a lot of things.

Will was startled from his reverie when he heard a soft knock. He turned around in surprise and smiled lightly when he saw Kalinda standing in the threshold.

"It's late," she said casually before she walked over to the cupboard behind his desk to get herself a glass. Then she retrieved the bottle from the table in front of Will, poured herself a glass of Scotch and sat down on his couch. "And you're drinking."

Will remained silent for a few moments, contemplating his words – his thoughts, really, and how much he was either willing or even able to share. He took a sip from the glass in his hand, pursed his lips and when he spoke his voice sounded unusually neutrally, almost as if he had resigned himself to a hopeless case.

"Sometimes I wish I had never come to Chicago."

His eyes drifted from Kalinda's, over her shoulder and out into the Chicago night; staring blankly ahead he lost himself in his own thoughts once again. Will needed to make sense of everything and find a solution which would benefit all of them as best as was possible in the mess he had created – or so he thought.

They sat in silence for almost thirty minutes, occasionally sipping Scotch from their glasses and refilling them with more liquor.

"What do I do, K?" Will asked and Kalinda was surprised at his need for advice. It was unlike him to ask or demand guidance. He was the kind of man who made up his own mind – afraid of letting other people interfere with his own judgment based on reason and analysis. But maybe that was why he had asked Kalinda; they were same – at least in that way.

Kalinda sat on his couch with her legs folded and one hand in her lap while the other one was holding tightly onto the glass of Scotch. She straightened her back and looked Will in the eyes when she said,

"You tell me to look into this, that's what you do. You tell me to find out what Scott-Carr knows and what angle she's playing. You tell me to look into Peter's connections, if he's in this. You tell me. And you sit here and drink with me and then you go home and get some sleep. When you come in tomorrow you do your job because you are damn good at what you do. And I do mine."

"K," Will paused and smiled at Kalinda, "You're a good friend."

Kalinda merely blinked at him and Will understood. Kalinda hated accepting compliments or honest gratitude. For her those equaled emotional strings and she was working so hard not to let anyone get close – not anymore.

"It's my job."

"No." Will leaned forward, elbows on his thighs he clincked his glass with hers. "You're a good friend."

As the door swung closed behind him Will sighed and took of his shoes. The silence unnerved him, enabled to bring conversations he had had and would have to the forefront of his mind. We walked into his living room and turned on the stereo. Tunes of Bob Dylan filled the room. He sat down on his couch, leaned his head against the back of it and closed his eyes. His muscles started burning from exhaustion. For a moment he thought about heading to his bedroom for a more comfortable and relieving sleep but his willpower was shot down by his body's need for rest, so he fell asleep on his couch.

To be continued.