A/N: Hi everyone! I've had a lot of inspiration this week, enough to publish multiple stories and drabbles. Thank you all so much for your reads, reviews, and support so far. It means a lot to me!
This is my take on 5.15 and the aftermath. I just re-watched 5.15-5.17 last night and I think they were more heart-wrenching the second time, knowing what was about to happen. I have been thinking about starting this story for a while but put off re-watching the episodes for my emotional stability. I'm sure you guys know what I mean!
It wasn't intended to be, but this is going to be a multi-chapter fic. I'm not entirely sure how many chapters, but let me put it this way-I had originally planned two chapters, but when this first part came out at 1200 words and I was nowhere near done with the first part of the story, I decided to split it up. It gives me more freedom to expand on different ideas and it gives you guys something to look forward to!
A couple of notes about the inspiration behind this fic. The title comes from an e.e. cummings poem, [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]. I highly recommend reading the poem; it really works for Will and Alicia, and you'll see some themes from it popping up throughout the story.
Secondly, it is also inspired by two Matt Nathanson songs. I won't reveal what Part II's song is, but Part I's is "Bulletproof Weeks." I also recommend listening to this-it will be sad, and you will probably cry, but themes from that song will pop up in here, as well.
Okay, enough of me talking. Hope you enjoy this! It will be sad, at least for a little while. I'm sorry about that. I promise I will make it up to you. A special shout-out to MayAnderson19, who listened to me babble last night as I re-watched those sad, sad episodes.
"Will's been shot."
When Kalinda's words reach Alicia's ears, her blood runs cold.
Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot.
It's like this mantra her brain can't stop repeating over and over and over.
Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot.
In this moment, there are only two realities: either Will dies, or Will lives.
Before Kalinda speaks again, Alicia finds herself sinking deep into the first reality.
The one where William Paul Gardner dies.
what happened to bulletproof weeks in your arms?
It's 3:27 in the morning, and Alicia Florrick is wide awake, staring at the ceiling.
Every time the sirens start wailing in the distance, she is immediately and painfully awoken from sleep, her heart racing.
Sirens. Sirens.
Ambulances and fire trucks, on their way to save someone's life.
Except they didn't save Will's.
She's never been a religious person, but ever since he died, she finds herself sending up little prayers. Nothing major, really, but when she hears those sirens, she prays they get there fast enough to save that person's life.
Because they didn't save Will's, and she figures the least God (or whatever seems to be controlling things up there) can do is let another person live.
In these nights when she lies awake, she relives the moment over and over, or at least what she imagines the moment was like, based on Finn and Kalinda's descriptions. She can picture him, covered in blood, scared, and cold.
So, so cold.
She tries not to think about it. She tries not to hear gunshots in her mind, or picture Jeffrey, or think about the shattered glass and smeared blood on the courtroom floor.
But it's the only thing she can think about, because they didn't save Will's life.
She hears more sirens and sends up another tiny prayer.
On these nights, she eventually falls back into a fitful, nightmare-filled sleep. Nightmares where she's running to him, as fast as she can, but it's never fast enough. He always dies before she reaches him, and all she's left with is his cold, lifeless body, covered in blood.
Alicia always wakes up the next morning drenched in sweat and remorse.
It should have been me in that courtroom. I should have been the one who died.
It's after 10am and she's still in bed. She's not really sure what day of the week it is, but she assumes it's the weekend because Zach and Grace aren't in school. She can hear their muted voices in the kitchen, talking quietly, trying not to wake her.
The doorbell rings, and she rolls over onto her back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"Mom?" Grace knocks lightly and pushes open the door just enough to stick her head in the room.
Alicia wants to tell whoever is at the door to go the hell away, but then Grace tells her who it is.
She sits up in bed, trying to wipe the dried tears and sorrow off her face. "She can come in."
Grace leaves and Aubrey enters, carrying a tattered cardboard box. Seeing Will's sister is enough to restart the tears Alicia fought so hard to keep at bay.
Aubrey sets the box on the floor before sitting next to Alicia on the bed and pulling her close.
"I'm sorry," Alicia says, wiping the tears away with her fingers. "I should be consoling you, not the other way around."
Aubrey smiled sadly and took Alicia's hand in hers. "You loved my brother, didn't you?"
Alicia nods, silently, pressing her lips together in an effort not to cry.
"Then you have every right to grieve alongside me."
The women sat in silence for a few moments before Aubrey reached for the box. "There are some things in here we wanted you to have," she explained, carefully unfolding the flaps and handing her the item on top.
A well-loved gray t-shirt with the Georgetown emblem printed across the front was the first thing removed from the box. Alicia held it in her hands, delicately, as if she was going to break it by touching it.
She put it up to her face and inhaled. It didn't just smell like Will.
It smelled like home.
Several tears fell from Alicia's cheeks onto the t-shirt, and Aubrey rubbed small circles on her back.
Next, she pulled out a few well-worn legal books and passed them to Alicia, who opened the covers and ran her fingers over the pages, over his familiar scrawl in the margins, over the passages he had highlighted, over the corners he had dog-eared. It struck her in this moment that he would never read or touch these books again, in those late nights at home or at the office, poring over the words on the pages, trying to find the one thing that would prove him right and help his client win.
Several tears fell from her cheeks onto the books before she set them aside.
And then the third thing. A baseball.
"Alicia! Leesh!" Will was running to catch up.
She turned around, hugging a stack of library books close to her chest. "Hey Will!" she said brightly, smiling to see her friend behind her. She stopped walking and waited for him to reach her.
"Are you coming to the game tonight? I'm pitching!" he added, proudly.
"Of course! I wouldn't miss it, Will. I just have to go drop these books off at my apartment and change."
"Let me walk you," Will offered, and took the stack of books from her arms.
He pitched five scoreless innings before the coach relieved him from pitching duty. In the bottom of the seventh inning, he hit a solo homer to right field, scoring the game's only run. As he rounded third and headed home, he looked for Alicia in the stands. She sat on the first base side, wearing one of his baseball caps and munching on popcorn. She was jumping up and down, clapping and cheering, popcorn spilled all over her seat. His heart soared.
At the end of the game, he ran out of the dugout and up into the stands, carrying a baseball with him. "It's my home run ball!" he told her joyfully, pointing to where he'd scribbled the date with a blue pen. "And I want you to have it."
"But it's yours!"
"It's just as much yours as it is mine," Will said, putting the baseball in her palm and closing her fingers around it. "Thanks for always supporting me."
Alicia wrapped her arms around Will and hugged him tight.
On graduation weekend, as he helped her pack up her things, she took the baseball from the top of her dresser. "I want you to take this back," she told him. "Now, hang on, don't get mad-" she smiled. "I want you to keep it to remind yourself that I was always your biggest fan. You're gonna do big things out there, Will, and I want you to remember that even if I'm four states away."
She placed the baseball in his palm and closed his fingers around it as he had done for her two years ago.
"My biggest fan," he repeated, smiling, as he pulled her in for a hug.
Alicia snapped back into reality. She turned the ball over and ran her thumb across those blue numbers. 3-26-93. An entire lifetime ago.
She felt herself fall sideways into Aubrey's arms as she sobbed uncontrollably.
Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot.
Will is dead.