Author's note: So, there I am once again with over 6.000 words for you. that is covering a whole lot of plot: Alicia's divorce is public, Diane tells Will to get it together, Will comes to see Alicia in order to apologise, and once he's there... Well, just read it. Hope you'll enjoy!
Author's note #2: In the mean time, I published a new one shot called 'A Few Words'. To be on the safe side, I rated it M, but that means it didn't show up on the front page of . You can find the story by either filtering on all ratings, or click my username and find it on my profile page :)
Summary: A post 5x15 story where Will (of course) survives the shooting. This story explores the aftermath of that, where Alicia quickly realises what is most important in her life, but Will struggles with the difficult road to recovery: It's about finally giving in and holding on to each other, savouring the fact that they still can, and that the horrendous event of Will getting shot didn't pull them apart, not for eternity, and that Alicia didn't lose him for the rest of her life.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine.

The Darkest Hour

Part VI

"Be my friend, hold me, wrap me up, enfold me."

Sia - Breathe Me

Will opens his eyes and stares straight into the bright sun beams that lighten up his bedroom. He didn't close the curtains when he came home last night. Blinded by the light, he squeezes his eyes shut again, and turns on his side. He looks down and sees he didn't undress himself either. Excellent. He searches for his phone to see the time. It's already past eight. "Shit", he groans and gets up immediately. He hurries to the bathroom, throws off his clothes and steps in a cold shower that definitely wakes him up, but doesn't do anything against the pounding headache. As the water hits his body, some parts of last night are slowly coming back to him.

Alicia. He fought with Alicia. What made him do that again? Did she say something? And what happened exactly during that conversation inside? What made him so upset? He doesn't remember and that's not a good thing. He gets out of the shower and looks at himself in the mirror. Pale face, dark circles, bloodshot eyes… This is going to be a long day.

He dresses himself quickly, takes a pack of Advil with him, grabs an apple from the fruit bowl (courtesy of Aubrey) and steps in the elevator down to the parking garage. Already exhausted, he leans back against the elevator wall and closes his eyes, bringing back fragments from the night before.

You can't drive like that… She offered him a ride. She offered to bring him home. He doesn't remember why it made him so upset. Something about her barging back in his life whenever it's convenient, is that what he said? Because she felt bad? Guilty? He shakes his head at the realisation. It was an unfair response. That I cried… thinking you'd never wake up? I thought I lost you… I separated from Peter... Did she say that? He shouldn't have yelled at her. Maybe she didn't, maybe his mind is mixing up what happened with what he'd hope to hear. He doesn't remember. Read the papers tomorrow… The papers? Didn't she say something about Peter?

Confused, he gets his phone out of his pocket, only now seeing all the notifications on his opening screen, one Chicago news outlet after the other: Florrick marriage ends, Governor announces divorce, No more governor's wife, Past catches up with governor Florrick as wife files for divorce, Not so indestructible now: Florrick's part ways, it goes on and on.

Holy shit, he mutters as the elevator doors slide open. He didn't make that up. She meant it. She did. She divorced him. She divorced Peter Florrick. After all those years, she finally did. God, he wished for this to be true for so many years. Decades even. He remembers back at Georgetown he fiercely hoped they would split up. When Alicia told him they'd get married he kept praying she would somehow change her mind. But he learned the hard way that Alicia is many things, but she isn't capricious. And she follows her mind rather than her heart. She stuck with him, because of the children, because of his name, because of his ambitions. And let's not forget that she also loved Peter, truly loved him - and in a way, still does - but that's a part Will conveniently doesn't think about.

He gets in his car and thinks back to her speech at the ABA conference just a couple months ago. Seeing her there upon that stage had also made him question why on earth this powerhouse of a woman was still with a worthless piece of crap like Peter Florrick. She had long surpassed being Peter Florrick wife, she was much more than an asset to the governor. Somewhere, he had wanted to tell her that, but of course he didn't, because the two of them no longer had that type of relationship. But now, finally, she did it. She chose for herself and he's proud of her for it.

As he drives off to work, the distraction of the divorce news slowly fades away and his thoughts go back to last night. He has to apologise. He was way out of line last night, especially if she really did say the things he remembers her saying.

"Call Alicia Florrick," he tells his bluetooth. But she doesn't pick up.

At work, the day passes quickly. The divorce news is the talk of the day, he keeps himself awake with an unhealthy amount of coffee and manages to leave at a decent hour. Back home, he tries calling her again. No luck.

I'm sorry about last night. And I heard the news. Call me back please, he finally texts her.

"So, this is a surprise," Will says to Diane, and pours her a glass of red wine in his kitchen. She just appeared on his intercom unannounced, about five minutes ago.

"I thought about calling you—"

"—And you didn't because?" He asks and hands her the glass.

"I thought it'd be better to talk in person."

"That sounds serious," he frowns. "We couldn't do that at the office?"

"I only heard about what happened when you'd already left."

"What happened?"

Diane rolls her eyes. "Will, why didn't you tell me."

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about," he replies. It isn't a full-on lie, because he truly doesn't know what she's hinting at, but he also has a suspicion that this might be about his outburst last night. It wasn't that bad, was it? Or at least he likes to think it wasn't, which is also due to the fact that he doesn't remember the full sequence of events.

"People talk," Diane states with a look in her eyes that tells him it isn't in a good way.

"About me?" Will asks.

"Yes."

"So what are they saying?"

"That you got into a fight with the director of the CFJP last night.."

Will scoffs at that. "A fight? Who told you that?" He decides to ignore the fact that the man he argued - not fought, at least he thinks - with apparently was the director of the prominent Chicago For Justice Project.

"Our client," Diane answers.

"None of our clients were there. Not at that point."

"Our newest client was. Brock Lewis, the CEO of the Emerald hotel chain. He agreed to come to us just last week."

"How come I wasn't informed?"

"You were. During a meeting last week. I should have talked to you then, you seemed… absent."

Will remembers there was a partner meeting right after he'd come back from the hearing where he had to walk out. He wasn't doing well and hadn't paid attention to whatever what was being said.

"I was. I had a bad day," he answers that.

"Either way, he's bringing his business elsewhere."

"Because of that?"

Diane nods.

Will swallows and looks away, his lips pressed into a thin light. "You know that's bullshit right?"

"It's not. He came to my office about an hour ago to discuss this."

He sighs deeply. "That's insane," he mutters and walks away to the window.

"Will, can we please talk about this," Diane tries.

"What do you want to hear?" He asks without turning around.

Diane sighs frustrated, gets up as well and walks over to him. "Your version."

"We didn't fight," he says, still turned to the window, seeing his own reflection in the darkness outside. "Believe me, we didn't."

"Are you sure?"

"We argued. He was making this case about diminished capacity, mental health issues and what not, that these people are victims, not criminals… And I…"

Diane patiently waits for him to continue.

"I told him he didn't know what he was talking about, he got offended. I… it spiralled out of control."

"Out of control how?"

"I don't remember. I might have shoved him and I believe his glass fell out of his hand as I did. I walked out after that."

She closes her eyes for a moment, telling herself to stay calm.

"And you were drunk?"

"Maybe."

Diane sighs deeply at that. "What is going on with you?"

He shrugs and drinks from his wine. "I had a bad week."

"That's not all it is. Can we please just sit and have a conversation?"

Reluctantly, Will does what she asks. He sits down on the couch, Diane on the chair across from him.

"Have you had any professional help with this?"

Will doesn't say anything to that in return. He's also realised that maybe he should reach out to someone, but he has zero interest in having to relive what happened, or talking about his feelings with a stranger.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Diane, thanks, but no. I'm doing okay. I just need to… I don't know."

"You need to get it under control," she says, stricter now. "You're being sloppy and it's giving you a bad reputation. People don't want to be associated with—"

"—With what?" He cuts her off.

"Chaos," she answers, and looks straight at him.

Will purses his lips at that, not immediately knowing what to say to that. It hurts him, that word. He likes to think of himself as someone who's always consistent and in control, someone to rely on, especially as a lawyer. His suspension two years ago had definitely hurt that reputation, but it didn't hurt his self-confidence, neither personally nor professionally. But this… this is hurting him in so many new and different ways, he doesn't know where to start with healing from it. And Diane's right, it is chaos. In his mind, in his heart, in his body and it's continuously throwing him off guard.

"For your own good, figure out what can help you get through this. Take it seriously, you owe yourself that."

She's right, Will knows it, and the direct way in which she's telling him to get his shit together is almost making him emotional.

Diane knows him well enough to be able to tell. She gets up to refill their glasses and briefly caresses his cheek when she takes his glass from him. It's a small, gentle gesture that tells him she cares for him and that she means well.

"Have you talked to Alicia recently?"

"No, not really" he says, glad she's changing the subject but also weary about where this is going. He decides to keep the fact for himself that he'd been yelling at her just last night. "You?"

She shakes her head. "Quite a bombshell, that announcement."

"Yeah, didn't see it coming."

"You think this was Alicia?"

"Must have been. It's too damaging for Peter."

Diane nods. "It's going to haunt him. Even if there's no particular cause that led up to this, the press is going to want one."

"You don't think there was one?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if this was already going on during the elections. Perhaps Eli convinced them, or her, to wait until he'd settled in as governor."

"No, she was determined," Will answers, his mind floating back to the talk in his car that night. "We talked back then, before she left. She had no intentions to leave him."

"To leave him for you?"

He shakes his head. "It wasn't about me. She was committed. To him, to her family, to the governorship. Something must have happened."

Diane gives him a look that seems one of disbelief almost, something he isn't able to place immediately. "What?" He asks.

"You don't see it at all, do you?"

"What are you talking about?"

She crosses her legs and leans forward in her chair, as if she's going to tell him something extremely important. "Has it crossed your mind that what happened to you might have played a part?"

"What?" That honestly hasn't crossed his mind.

"That it made her see things… differently?" She continues.

His forehead turns into one big frown as he tries to process what she's saying.

"Wait, why are we having this conversation all of a sudden?" He asks, partly because he doesn't know what else to say, but also because he simply doesn't understand why Diane is now willing to talk about him and Alicia as if it's something that could exist. Apart from that one conversation outside, years ago, when she told him to cut it off, it had been a subject they both meticulously avoided.

"Will, she was devastated," she says it with a seriousness that throws him off guard. "Look," she sighs when Will doesn't respond to that. "I know you had to break it off at the time."

"She."

Diane gives him a quizzical look.

"She broke it off."

"Oh," she answers surprised. "I always thought… I had no idea."

"Doesn't matter now. It's a long time ago."

"Okay well," she drinks the last of her wine and gets up from the chair. "Think about it. And just go talk to her."

Alicia took Cary's advice the morning of the announcement: put your phone on flight mode and don't look at it for the next twenty-four hours. She stayed in her apartment with Grace all day, cooked together, watched some films on the couch with her and drank a couple glasses of one of the best red wines she had laying around. Going outside wasn't an option, even if she'd wanted to. The doorman had informed her that journalists were basically camping outside the apartment building. So she stayed inside and simply made the best of it. Later that evening, she couldn't resist to unlock her phone and the amount of notifications that came in was simply overwhelming. Over thirty missed calls, mostly from unknown numbers, too many text messages to read through and on top of that, news notification after news notification. She turned it back off as soon as all the notification bells had subsided and tried to get some sleep.

She lay awake most of the night, annoyed at herself for turning her phone on just before bed. It frustrated her that she didn't yet feel the relief she'd hoped to be feeling by now. She felt concern mostly, and stress about not knowing how the next couple of days were going to be. Business was taken care of, thanks to Cary, but she knew that the press was eager to find out why they chose for divorce and especially why now. The statement said it was a mutual decision (which technically was true), that it was with heavy heart (which Alicia thought was way too dramatic, but Eli's alternative was heartbreaking and that seemed even worse) and that they had lovingly chosen to separate. But the details of the why and when were not for the public. Eli had warned her that it would lead to a flood of questions, but to that Alicia had replied that she wasn't going to answer a single one of them, because of the simple fact she was technically no longer the governor's wife and therefore not in the position to talk to the press. What Peter wanted to do was up to him and Eli had created an awful 'lines to take (which she had approved) and they had the agreement that anything outside those lines concerning either Zach, Grace or herself would be given to her for approval first. So technically, nothing bad could happen. But Alicia isn't that naive anymore.

It means she barely sleeps at all that night and the next morning - against Cary's advice - reopens her phone and starts browsing through all the notifications on her phone with a big cup of coffee. The positive side-effect of all this is that she'd almost forgotten about what had happened between her and Will the other night, but then she sees he called her twice and texted her, too. And yes, she's relieved to see that he reached out and that he apologises, but it also stresses her out even more.

Will.

In a way, she'd love to be with him right now. To cuddle up in his arms, feel safe and forget about the world around her. He'd be able to put things into perspective for her and make her feel better about everything. But all of that is only true if he'd wanted to do that, and judging by the events of the other night… it seems awfully unrealistic. And even if it's something he would, deep down, want with her, the other - and perhaps more important - question is if he can. Because the past weeks have shown her that it's Will who needs support, who needs to be looked after. It's not the other way around. And she'll be happy to give it to him. God, she'd be willing to give up so much to be able to that. In fact, she just did, yesterday morning. But it's intimidating too, because she isn't sure at all if she'll be able to give him what he needs.

That same morning, Will's laying in his bed, scrolling through the many follow-up articles about 'The Florrick Split'. What Diane told him last night is still going through his head. To him, it mostly sounds like wishful thinking. It also sounds very much unlike Alicia, which only further strengthens his feeling that Diane got it wrong. But either way, he's eager to speak to her. To apologise mostly, but also to ask how she's doing and what on earth happened for her to make a massive decision like that.

So what the hell, he thinks, he might as well try and call her again. He sits up, clicks her name and waits to see if the beeping tone will turn into her voice. And to his relief, it does.

"Will, hi," he hears her voice.

"Hi, yeah it's me. How are you holding up?"

She sighs. "I'm okay. It's… overwhelming."

"Yeah. Can only imagine. Look, you must have a million other things on your mind. I just wanted to apologise for the other night."

"It's okay."

"No it's not. I was way out of line."

"It was a bad moment."

"It was uncalled for," he replies. "I would really like to... talk this weekend? Go for a walk?"

"Sorry, I can't."

"Oh, okay," Will responds bummed.

"No, I mean, I can't go for a walk. The press… They'll follow me and if they see me outside… I don't want photos of you and me all over the internet…. Sorry that sounds bad. I just mean —"

"—Hey, I get it. You're right. No need to apologize."

"Sorry for all this."

"No, don't be."

"I… It would be nice if we could, you know, talk," Alicia answers with a softness in her voice that comforts him.

"Then let's figure something out," Will is quick to reply. "I can come to your place?" He proposes, unsure if that's what she wants.

"That would work, thanks," Alicia replies. "How about tomorrow?"

Will immediately notices the paparazzi when he turns right to head in the parking garage of Alicia's building. They really are waiting outside. Waiting for Alicia, for a hint to publish yet another juicy story about why exactly she divorced. If only they knew her former boss and ex lover (because technically, that's all he is really) is now about to visit her. That would make a great story. It really is a good thing the two of them were never out in public and Alicia's careful - too careful, to his taste - manoeuvring during that time perhaps wasn't so excessive after all.

It feels oddly familiar, nostalgic almost, to come back in this building and step in the elevator. It is her sanctuary, a place for her and her children where she feels safe and didn't want to bring too much of her private life. He knew his way around the apartment but never really felt at home. They never got to that stage, much to his frustration. But this time, he is allowed to come by. He isn't sure if it's merely out of necessity or that she actually feels comfortable with him being at her place again. But he'll find out soon enough: The elevators doors slide open at her floor, he steps out and knocks on the white front door.

He hears footsteps and then the door opens. Alicia stands there, her hair loose, wearing casual jeans and a dark blue sweater. Barely any make-up. He's struck by the simplicity of her look. He hasn't seen her like this in a long time and it makes him realize how much he missed this, missed her and how beautiful she always look without trying.

"Hi," she says with a smile. "Come in."

"I'm sorry," is the first thing he says. "For what I said or… yelled. I know you were only trying to help. I was out of line."

"It was," Alicia nods. "Guess you're lucky that so much has happened these past 48 hours, I barely remember," she offers him a smile and gestures him to come inside.

"Thank God," he grins and follows her into the kitchen. "I saw them, the paparazzi. Camping outside your building."

"I know," she sighs and walks into the kitchen. "Can I get you anything? Coffee?"

"Coffee's great," he says and sits down on one of the bar stools. He doesn't know what to say next or how to keep the conversation going.

Alicia walks over to him, hands him his cup of coffee and leans back against the kitchen counter with hers.

"How are you?" She asks simply, apparently also noticing that Will isn't going to start talking by himself.

"I think I'm running out of ways to answer that question."

She smiles silently at that, but Will can sense she's still expecting him to answer her.

"I'm doing... okay," he says and looks at her. Alicia hears the doubt in his voice and she herself knows he isn't okay, of course she knows. She saw him walk out of court to throw up one day, only to find him drunk on a professional event the other. But she decides to let it go for now, she doesn't want to create the same situation as the other night.

"And you?" He returns the question.

"I'm fine, Will."

"The divorce," he tries carefully. "Is this something you wanted or—"

"Yes," she cuts him off.

Will nods, unsure whether or not to continue asking questions. He's curious, as a friend and as someone who almost - but unsuccessfully - lured her away from him. But he also knows that it really isn't any of his business. It's a delicate balance between not being noisy and showing interest, and he isn't quite sure where he wants himself to stand in that.

"I don't really know what else to say about it," Alicia adds, apologizing for the silence almost. "It's all over the news and I..."

"Look, we don't have to talk about it."

"I know," she smiles. "But you must have questions and I don't want to be too... you know, closed off. You came all the way here."

"I came here to apologize."

"Yeah, but for what exactly?"

He shrugs, finishing his coffee. "For what I said."

"You said a lot of things."

"I did, didn't I," he laughs uncomfortably. "The bottom line is I know you only wanted to help, and I..." He shakes his head. "It was messy. I took it out on you. I shouldn't have."

"It was unlike you," Alicia says calmly.

"Yeah, I know. I'm working on it."

Alicia just looks at him for a moment, how he sits there at her kitchen island. Grey t-shirt, jeans, it's been years since she's seen him like that. And she fantasized about it all that time, too. She'd fantasize about touching him again, kissing, the sex they had, but also about these simple, casual moments where they would be able to talk to each other as friends. She really thought they'd never have that opportunity again, and now he's here, as if there's nothing special about it at all.

"Do you have any help with that?"

"My sister comes by each week."

"Who, Aubrey?"

"Yes," he grins. "Keep forgetting you two met."

"I liked her."

"Yeah? She likes you."

Alicia smiles. "She was really sweet."

"It's been great spending more time with her."

"I don't remember you mentioning her much before."

"No, I know. It's odd how things like this... I don't know, shift…"

"Perspective?" She asks gently.

"Yes," Will answers and looks up to her. Alicia nods in response, contemplating whether this is the right moment to share with him how her own perspective drastically shifted over the past couple of weeks. But his words of the other night, drunk or not, apologetic or not, are still ringing fresh in her mind.

Will can tell, simply by the look in her eyes, that Alicia's mind is going a hundred miles an hour. He knows he needs to address much more specifically what he shouted at her that night, but the trouble is that he doesn't remember much of his exact words…

"Talking about changing perspectives," he begins in an attempt to divert the conversation until he does figure out how to come back to his outburst that evening. "Are you changing your name back to Cavenaugh?"

Alicia smirks at that. "Clever way of changing the subject."

"Sorry," Will smiles.

"I don't know," she answers. "For the foreseeable future, I don't think so."

"It's a powerful name."

"And a damaged one."

Will shrugs at that. "I think he's passed that, don't you?"

"Sure hope so," she scoffs and looks at her watch, telling her it's three o'clock. "Is it too early for wine?"

"Not today," je smirks.

"Good," she says and gets two glasses and a bottle of red wine. He watches how she opens the bottle like a seasoned pro and pour sjust a little more than is acceptable in the glasses. She hands him one and takes a seat on the barstool next to him.

"Cheers," Alicia makes her glass touch his. "To… new beginnings?"

"To new beginnings," Will nods and drinks from his wine. "So how does it feel?"

"…Daunting," she answers with a sigh.

"Daunting how?"

"People just have so many opinions, you know?"

"You still care about those?"

"Less than I used to. More than I should."

"Next week everyone will have moved on to another scoop or scandal. You know that."

"And I'll still be stuck in this mess," Alicia gestures towards a pile of paper on the counter top.

"It's not finalised yet?"

Alicia scoffs at that. "God no. Cary did what he could without telling anyone, but we can only move forward now that it's public."

"Cary handled your divorce?"

"I couldn't think of anyone else to trust with the information that I was separating from the governor of Illinois."

"Makes sense," Will nods. "How are you two doing?"

"Running our own firm? Good, I think."

"You think?"

"We're not fighting, we're not bankrupt. We're just—"

"—Struggling?" Will finishes for her.

"Maybe a little," Alicia smirks. "I'm not giving you anything else."

"I have to say, no matter what I think of what you two did and how you did it, it does amaze me how you managed to bond when three years ago you were still fighting each other like siblings."

"We had our reasons."

"Apparently," Will answers, and she can see by the thin line his lips are forming that this is something that still is upsetting to him.

"Are you still as 'unhappy' about me leaving?"

"Unhappy? I said that?"

Alicia nods. "Back in that coffeehouse, in New York. You remember that?"

Will smiles at the memory and thinks about Alicia's question that he doesn't know how to answer. Everything that happened before the shooting has blurred together in his mind. Not that he forgot, because he sure didn't, but the importance of things has shifted, or at least, not found its place in this new reality in which he's still struggling to simply survive and get through the aftermath of what happened to him.

"Seems like another lifetime ago, that conversation," he answers, his eyebrows furrowed together.

And suddenly, the mood changes. The seemingly casual conversation from a minute ago turns into something much more delicate and personal.

"It is in a way, isn't it?" Alicia says quietly, her lips forming into a sad smile.

Will's eyes find hers and he can tell she feels it too. They never needed many words to understand each other and right in this moment, they both know that everything else they were discussing before has become irrelevant. And sure, Will's reason for coming to see her was to apologize for his behaviour, and he still has some apologising to do, but there's much more to this. Something much bigger that they both simply haven't been able to address because they don't know how, because putting in words would never do it justice. He almost lost his life and now he's sitting here, next to her in the kitchen island of her apartment. He sees the emotion well up in Alicia's eyes and he knows she's thinking the same thing. Suddenly, he feels her hand on his wrist. He didn't even notice her reaching out.

"I thought I'd never speak to you again," she says in a whisper. Her voice breaks and he feels how much it hurts her to say that.

Will's eyes are still fixated on her and then, instinctively, he just leans in, caresses her cheek and softly kisses her lips. The kiss is tender and light, but there's so much history to that kiss that the feeling of his lips on hers send a shockwave through his body making him, for the first time since weeks, actually feel alive again. He then pulls back just a little and rests his forehead against hers. "Yet here we are," he whispers.

"I know," Alicia mutters and looks up to him with a small smile, even though it's unable to hide her teary eyes.

"I wish I'd gotten in that Uber with you. I wanted to."

"What held you back?"

"I don't know. Pride, I guess." He gets up from his seat and gets the bottle from the kitchen counter.

"More wine?" He asks and Alicia nods. Only then he realises he picked up the bottle with his left hand and he knows it's going to be tricky to actually pour in the wine with his bad arm, so he quickly shifts the bottle to his right. Alicia notices the shift. In fact, she's noticed for weeks that he's been avoiding using that arm.

"Let me," Alicia tries and reaches out.

"I can do it," he says, frustrated with himself for making the mistake and for making her worry about something he doesn't want to address, at least not now.

His clenched jaw and pursed lips tell her that she should just let him do it, so she says nothing else and quietly watches him refill their glasses. But as soon as he sits back down next to her, she gets up from her bar stool and moves herself so that she's standing behind him.

"What are you doing?"

"You need to relax," she tells him and places her hands on his shoulders. "God you're tense."

"I know," Will sighs and does his best to relax his shoulders. He's enjoying the touch of her hands on his body, how she starts to rub his upper back, pushing on tight muscles knots he didn't even notice were there. He bends his neck forward and closes his eyes while she continues, slowly giving in to her.

As Alicia's thumbs work at the stiffness in his shoulders she can feel just how much tension he's been holding. It's intimidating almost, how hard and cramped his muscles have become. During their affair, she'd massaged him whenever he complained about his neck, so she knows he holds stress this way, but this is different. His whole body is tense and her physically feeling that makes her understand his behaviour of the past two months a whole lot better. She moves her hands closer towards his neck and Will lets out a groan in response.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," he moans in response. "Feels good."

She continues to massage the muscles around his spine and then her eye falls on the scar tissue on the left side on his neck. She isn't sure if she should touch it, whether it's painful or sensitive, so she carefully explores the scarring with her thumb, awaiting his response. He flinches at the touch.

"I'm sorry," she whispers and plants a kiss in his hair.

That makes him lean back towards her, the weight of his shoulders now resting against her chest. She wraps her arms around him and places a light kiss on the scarring. He lets her, and there's something about the vulnerability in that moment that brings back tears in her eyes, but she successfully fights them just in time. Will turns himself around towards her and looks up at her with a thankful, unguarded look in his eyes that she hasn't seen for years.

They don't talk, because they don't know what to say and because they never needed much words to tell each other how they feel. In fact, these two sometimes do better without too much conversation. It limits the possibilities of misunderstandings.

Alicia gently cups his face in her hands and now she's the one to finally give in to an urge that never went away completely, but has been occupying her mind ever since he called her from the hospital. She kisses his lips, tenderly and loving at first, but Will quickly intensifies their kiss and encourages her to do same. Before she fully grasps what's happening, his hands are already crawling under her sweater and it immediately feels so good to have his hands on her skin. He always knows exactly where to go and how to drive her crazy without really doing much. She moans as his hands reach her breasts and it makes him chuckle because she isn't wearing a bra and he didn't expect that. He gets up from the stool, suddenly much taller than her, especially now that she isn't wearing heels. Without warning and without asking for her approval - he knows he doesn't need it - he takes her sweater and pulls it off her shoulders, exposing her upper body. She does the same to him, he helps her by pulling off his shirt over his head and from there, they're unstoppable.

Will follows her to her bedroom and they find their routine back immediately, even though this time is somewhat different than before. They've always liked to tease each other during sex and Will loves to drive her crazy by making Alicia ask for what she wants and needs, but that's not what this is about. Not now. They're completely quiet, serious almost. There is no time for jokes because this isn't some light hearted moment they're sharing. It's about much more than that. It's about needing each other, about finally giving in and holding on to each other, savouring the fact that they still can, and that the horrendous event of Will getting shot didn't pull them apart, not for eternity, and that Alicia didn't lose him for the rest of her life.

Once they're both completely undressed, Will sits down on the edge of the bed and grabs Alicia's waist, leading her on top of him. He holds her with a determination that she missed so much. He looks straight in her eyes as she lowers down on him, as if he needs to see it to believe it, and it makes her blush. She's always been so attracted by the pure, undivided attention he gives her in these moments. He swallows her up and stares straight into her soul every single time. There was something overwhelming about it in the beginning. It was a lot to give in to, but she learned quickly that once she does, he takes her with her on a journey that's only about the two of them and nothing else, and it's always been incredibly arousing to her. There's such an urgency to the way he's holding her on top of him, with his hands confidently pressing against her lower back, rocking her up and down.

They're completely entangled. He feels her everywhere around him; her legs clenched around his upper legs, her hands holding on to his shoulder, her head in his neck while the scent of her hair and skin intoxicates him. He listens to her soft moans, how she's giving herself completely to him, letting herself disappear in the moment. And then he allows himself to close his eyes, push his face against her chest and finally, finally surrender.

Thank you so much for reading, I truly hope you're still enjoying this. Let me know what you think, your reviews honestly make my day and I cherish every single one of them :)