Author's note: Well, who would have thought? I certainly didn't, let me tell you! It's been a hot minute to say the least. More than five years have passed. And then I watched this interview with Julianna Margulies and I re-watched some Good Wife scenes. I got back to this account and realized how many of you were a fan of this story. My deepest apologies for those who had been hoping to see more. I felt unable to really continue after Will's death in season five. But years later, I felt inspired and found so many bits and pieces on my laptop that had been waiting to be published. So here you go. Do let me know what you think and if there's anyone out who wants me to continue.
Summary: force ma·jeure noun \ˌfȯrs-mä-ˈzhər, -mə-\ 1: superior or irresistible force. 2: an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will, seven months after she left L/G: "Dilaney is denying that he intended to assault you." I don't respond. My stomach turns. I open my mouth but no words come out.
Thanks: to all of you who continued to read my story over the years and kept leaving reviews. It encouraged me to continue, and I'm looking forward to hearing from you guys. Also a big thank you to Aleisha, who helped me out with the law bits years ago.

Force Majeure

Chapter 16 – Headache

"Lately you've been searching for a darker place to hide, that's alright."

- Tom Walker (Leave a Light On)

Tuesday, 08:47

I didn't sleep much last night. Will's unexpected appearance had thrown me off guard. I laid awake most of the night, thinking about what happened, about how to handle my children, when the divorce with Peter will finally be official and about when to get back to work.

I finally decided to open my laptop this morning, in an attempt to at least catch up on some e-mails. So here I am, sitting in the kitchen, staring at the screen. There's a cup of coffee next to me, but I barely took a sip. Ever since what happened, coffee hasn't tasted the same. 122 unread emails, 34 with "priority."

I sigh deeply and stare across the kitchen counter. The blue bag Will brought with him is still laying there. I grab it, about throw it in the garbage. Then I notice something rambling. The earrings I was wearing, I realise. A gift from Peter, years ago. Peter… He had left me a voicemail the other night, asking me how I'm doing. He sounded calm, kind. The side I have always loved about him but that had rarely made an appearance over the past couple years. And to be fair, my kind and calm side had also slipped away. At least around him. We had grown apart. We were no longer capable of making each other better people. Better partners, better parents or better professionals… We were over and done. It was Peter who finally decided to say that out loud. That he didn't want to hold on to a past that wouldn't bring any future. We cried together, here in this kitchen. But we both knew it was the right decision. A decision that brought me much needed new energy. But when this all happened, this ridiculous attack, I felt like everything smashed me back to square one.

i could take out the earrings, save them for later or give them to Grace. But I know their emotional value have been tainted and I will never forget that I had to take them out of this blue bag with my blouse, ripped apart and stained with blood. I decisively throw the whole thing away. I need to move on from all of this.

I then glance at my phone. A text from Cary. "Hope you're feeling better. Call me when you see this". I frown. What's so urgent? The Johnson case? I did leave work right in the middle of that one. I decide to call Cary back immediately and simultaneously get up to throw out the cold coffee in the sink.

"Hey Cary, how are you?"

"Alicia. Glad you called me back. I'm good. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Was catching up on some e-mails. I didn't know we hired a new intern? And that Johnson case, do you need any help with that?"

I hear him laugh. "You shouldn't even be working. Please, take your time. We're doing fine over here."

"So why do you need to call me then," I smirk. I pour myself a glass of water and lean against the sink.

He sighs. "It's not about work. It's about Dilaney."

"What about him?" My smile disappears as soon as I hear his name.

"Robin went in to get an update on the investigation."

"And?"

"Dilaney is denying that he intended to assault you."

I don't respond. My stomach turns. I open my mouth but no words come out.

"And I don't think he'll go for a plea either. He thinks, or his lawyer thinks, there's no proof that he had the intention to hurt you, or to attack you in the first place."

My mind goes back to the garage. "Cary. That's ridiculous. He told me he'd been waiting for me."

"I know," Cary says. "I'm expecting them to take it to trial. They'll argue he attacked you out of emotional impulse. Not intentional."

Not a trial. Please, God. I close my eyes. "Why," I sigh.

"He's being delusional, Alicia. Don't worry about it. It's probably just a tactical move from his lawyer to reduce his sentence, but you and I both know… and with his history of abuse...It will be in his best interest to take a plea. If not, the PA will win by a landslide in court in anyways."

I nod. "I just can't believe he's doing this,". A trial means attention and attention means press. I'm still the governor's wife for the rest of the world. It will all so be just so… screwed up.

"I'm sorry to break it to you like that. Just wanted make sure you didn't hear last. They'll probably call you soon, if they didn't already."

I sigh. A million thoughts run through my mind. Who will be defending Dilaney? David? What will a jury think if they see me in the witness stand… That I'm some sort of weak woman who's always the freaking victim of everything that happens to her.

"Let me just come by this afternoon to talk it over. OK?"

"That would be nice," I say softly.

Tuesday, 17:17

Cary came by at three, as promised. We've been talking for over two hours, about work, going to cort and about whether or not I'll file a civil lawsuit. But now I'm starting to lose my focus. The throbbing headache returns and it's hard to hide. The way Cary is looking at me gives a way he notices it too.

"How are you holding up?"

I lean my head back in the couch. "Honestly, I don't know," I sigh. "I look hideous, if I leave the home people see me and will think of the craziest stories, then press will start talking and now I'm supposed to go to trial to discuss details I might not even remember."

"But there are things you do remember, right?"

"He waited for me near my car. Behind that column, I didn't see him at first. He told me he'd been waiting for me. That I should stay away from his wife. And he held me, really… tight. I couldn't go anywhere. He pushed me to that column. There was a car coming in, right before he hit me. He heard it too, it made him nervous. But then... I must have passed out." I don't look at Cary as I speak.

"You remember anything after that?"

I do. The woman, touching me, talking to me. Will's face, his hand on me, trying to keep me wake. The ambulance personnel calming me down and lifting me into the ambulance…

"That woman talking to me. That's the first thing," I answer dryly.

"Did she see him leave?"

I shrug. "I don't know." I close my eyes. "I don't remember what she said exactly. She didn't know what to do, she just disappeared to get help," I mumble.

"Will," Cary adds.

I nod again.

"He talked to the police right?"

"Yes. In the hospital."

"Did he see anyone?"

"I don't think so. He didn't mention anything."

"OK."

I open my eyes again and sigh deeply. "I'm sorry Cary. I know I'm not of much use."

"Just trying to help where I can," he responds. His eyes are soft.

"Thank you," I smile back. "We've become good friends, haven't we?"

"We have," he smiles. "We should go for a drink once you're up for it."

"We sure will."

He gets up, so do I. We walk back to the door. "One more thing, do you know who will be defending Dilaney?"

"Not sure. Lockhart/Gardner dropped him as a client. I mean, physically attacking a colleague in their building… And Will got involved as a witness. It would get messy. We would do the same."

I nod. "That's good."

"It is. Don't worry too much, ok? Rest. We'll talk later this week."

"Thanks Cary."

I close the door behind him and sink back down on the couch. The memory of the attack continues to spin through my head, making me feel dizzy all over again. The smell of Dilaney's breath. The sound of my head hitting the column. The sirens. Will telling me to stay with him, to stay awake, to squeeze his hand. With every thought and every memory, the headache only gets worse and I hate it. I want to move on from this. But now, with Dilaney denying, I know I can't. Not yet.

Thank you for reading! It must be insane to see an update five years later. I'm well on my way with the last chapters, so please please do let me know if any of you would be interesting in actually seeing those update. We definitely have some chapters to go still!

(Preview for next chapter: Alicia is slowly trying to get back to work and bumps into Will).