Author's note: I can't explain how nervous I felt to publish the 16th chapter, five years after the last one. I was incredibly anxious and was hoping to see maybe 1 or 2 reviews max. But you guys left 12! I'm so happy to see so many of you are still enjoying this story. I've been rewatching The Good Wife episodes all week, and fully invested in finishing what I once begun. It's exciting to be back!
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: Will breathes deeply and looks away for a second before his eyes find mine again. "Do you even know that it scared the hell out of me to see you like that? I don't want to see you hurt. How do you get that?"
Thanks: To all twelve of you who were so kind of you to leave a review. For Aleisha for helping me with law questions all those years ago, and for Jen (RomanticSoutherner) who was my dear beta-reader back in the day.

Force Majeure

Chapter 17 – Doctor's Orders

"So do your worst to me. Test my loyalty. I will pass with distinction of first degree"

- Bruno Major (Just the Same)

Three weeks later

Wednesday, 13:55

I study my reflection in the mirror as I stand in the ladies' room of the court house. It's almost like nothing ever happened. The streaks on my wrist disappeared first. The black eye faded next. The bruise in my neck is gone. My jaw is no longer swollen. A faint bruise down my jawline remains, but only the trained eye will see the difference. I look like my old self for the first time in weeks. Unfortunately, I do not feel like my old self just yet. I'm dealing with sleepless nights, headaches and this feeling of continuous anxiety that has taken over my whole body. Also, I haven't set foot in a parking garage since that very day.

I think I'm handling it quite well, all things considered. I just want to get back into a routine, back to my job and most of all, back to my life. I'm done with wallowing in self-pity.

Confidently, I head out the ladies' room and make my way to the courtroom where Cary will be waiting for me. As I walk down the hallway, the familiar sound of my heels echoing on the stone floor soothes me. It feels good to be back, as if it's any other workday.

But it isn't.

Because I take a seat in the second row instead of the first. As I do, Cary turns around to quickly say hi and then returns to our client. I just sit there, to do nothing else but listen. It feels somewhat ridiculous; being in court and not practicing. But I'm following doctor's orders: first try following a full trial session before even think about handling a case yourself.

Wednesday, 14:57

"Adjourned."

O my God, finally. I let out a sigh of relief. I don't know how many exhausting trials I have worked through in my career, but nothing beats listening through one, in an attempt to look engaged and focused whilst battling a pounding headache.

"You OK?" Cary asks as he turns around towards me.

"Perfect," I respond. Not entirely true, but good enough. "So boring," I then mouth at him.

He grins, then turns back to our client.

I decide to get up and leave as quickly as I can. I don't feel like going through the 'how are you' and 'I heard' conversations once again. I'm running out of repertoire. The way people have been looking at me is painfully similar to when everyone knew that Peter had cheated on me with hookers. But I've learned to ignore the stares.

The hallway is full of people talking, laughing and whispering, and all of it echoes as much as my heels do, only further aggravating my headache. I can't wait to get home. Fingers crossed I don't run into anyone. But then, when I cross into the main hallway, I spot him.

Always him.

Will.

It's been months since I've seen him like that. Relaxed, talking to his client, working, and clearly not aware of my presence. As if I spot him like an animal in his natural habitat. It brings a faint smile to my face. This is how he's always been and how I've always liked him. But I no longer get to see him like this. I'm only allowed to see his cold, harsh and distant side. And that's probably the side I'll see if I'd approach him right now. Do I even want to approach him? I'm not sure. But there are many reasons to at least try. To thank him, to ask him how he's doing, to talk, to…

But I'm not sure where we stand. Then again, I don't think I ever knew where we stood. The only thing I know is that, despite our stubborn 'bad timing' mantra, we do always bump in to each other. As if we don't know how to, or simply can't, avoid each other. We've tried many times. But I know that no matter how large the crowd or how big the space, I'll always see him first.

Suddenly he looks into my direction. A bit startled, I raise my hand in an awkward attempt to say 'hi'. I don't know what else to do. He does the same and, to my surprise, gestures he's coming my way.

I just stand there, in the middle of the hallway, not sure what will happen next.

"Back to work?" He asks with a gentle smile as he walks over to me.

"Kind of," I smile.

"It's been what, a month?"

"Three weeks and two days," I nod.

He grins. "Counting the days huh?"

"Yep."

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. I… Can we go outside for a second?"

"Sure," he shrugs.

"Let's do that," I say decisively.

We move through the crowd. I'm a bit overwhelmed that we're talking to each other and that it doesn't seem as weird as it normally does, but I also don't really know what is happening or what I want to talk about.

Once outside, we head down the stairs and sooner than I'd hoped we're standing in front of each other on the sidewalk.

"Tell me," he says.

"I know you don't want to talk," I start. "But too much has happened," I carefully continue. "So I think we should… talk. If not now, then at least sometime soon." There, I said it.

He sighs and stares into the distance for a moment. Then he looks back at me. "There's not much to talk about," he responds dryly.

"There is," I say. My voice is soft but determined.

Another sigh.

"Will, come on, there is." Stronger this time. "Look, I know it's my fault that we didn't talk…before. When you wanted to talk, I said I couldn't. We should have, I realize that."

"You couldn't talk because you were in the process of stealing my clients."

"I know that." I try my hardest not to roll my eyes. Here we go again. Will we ever get passed this?

He shrugs indifferently. "We're competitors now."

"Is that all?" I carefully ask.

"At this point in time… I think so, yes."

Now I'm the one to sigh deeply. "You're not going to let me do it, are you?"

"Do what?"

"Actually thank you."

"You don't need to thank me."

"I do. And I want to. My God Will, you're the one who got me out of that parking garage. Who brought me home." I sound more vulnerable than I intended to.

The look on his face softens as I say that. He frowns.

"If we're really only competitors, why would you have done all that?" I ask. "If you hate me this much, why did you even care?"

The soft look in his eyes immediately disappears. "Are you saying that I had a choice?" I open my mouth, but he doesn't let me speak.

"She's badly hurt, but you know what, I don't care, I'll just leave her there?" He raises his voice. His tone is more upset than I expected. "How is that even a scenario? You're acting like I'm what, inhumane? You were barely conscious Alicia."

I'm taken aback by his strong response.

He sighs deeply, looks down for a second and then looks me in the eyes again. "Do you even know that it scared the hell out of me to see you like that? I don't want to see you hurt. How do you get that?"

That's not what I meant. "No, I…"

"But it doesn't mean that I just forget what you did," he continues. "It's two different things. You're oversimplifying it and you know you are."

"I'm sorry… it was an unfair question."

"We were avoiding each other for a reason. And now we're just…" He swallows, his lips pursed. "…messed up." His voice cracks at those last words.

"Yeah…" I nod slowly. A silence falls.

"Beyond repair?" I decide to ask.

He shakes his head. "Honestly… I don't know how to answer that."

Another silence. I stare at the ground, biting my bottom lip, unsure of what to say next.

"Look," he sighs. It makes me look back up at him. Our eyes lock. "I'm just glad to see you back on your feet," he tells me. His eyes are soft again.

"Yeah… me too."

We're interrupted by his phone ringing. He takes it out his pocket. "I'm sorry," he says as he silences it. "I really need to get back to the office."

"Sure, go," I nod. "And if you do change your mind, about talking… Let me know?"

"OK."

"OK," I repeat.

"Take care." And with that, he turns around.

I just stand there as he walks away from me. I let out a shivery breath and stare at him as he moves further away from me. What have we become? Why are we always this… inept with each other? Maybe I should have just kept walking, because I don't even know if this conversation made me feel better or worse. I open my bag to get my phone and call myself a cab.

"Alicia?"

I look up at the sound of his voice saying my name. He's already a couple feet away from me but apparently turned around.

"Don't rush healing from a concussion like that. Us two… we're bad enough as it is. I don't want to see you, you know… beyond repair," he grins at the last words.

"Don't worry," I smile. "I promise I won't."

He nods, with that mischievous look on his face that I've come to know so well, but haven't seen in a very, very long time. Immediately I feel better.

Then he turns back around and walks away.

Thank you for reading! Always looking forward to hearing your guys thoughts, your reviews have been incredibly encouraging.

(Preview for next chapter: Flashback to Will waiting for the ambulance to arrive, set immediately after chapter 5.)