A/N: I've had a few requests to continue this since I posted the first chapter. It was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but when it got some interest I decided to try and keep writing. This has been sitting around for a long time, at least a year, probably a year and a half, but the bit at the end of this chapter is probably up there with my favourite stuff I've written for a fic, so I decided to post it. I've got a little bit of chapter 3 written that I did around the same time as well, but that's it so far. I don't want to get anyone's hopes up though. I've never managed to write a chapter fic before, and I'm going to be working as a graduate lawyer in the new year so I don't know how much free time I'll have, so no promises I'll finish or how long between updates. I will try though. I'd like to finish.

Anyway, I hope you like it and it's worth the wait :)

Cary Agos was pissed. But even more than that, he was curious. He and Alicia had never been fully in agreement about the way the firm should be run, but lately, he was the only one who seemed to care. Which frankly, he found concerning. Actually, he decided, with the way the situation was panning out, that's what he felt most – concern.

"Alicia. Alicia!" Cary's voice snapped her out of her daze. "Is everything alright? You've been distracted lately."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied. "Sorry." But even as she said it, it seemed to Cary that her head was off in some world that was different to this one. It also struck him as odd that she simply apologised like that – it was unlike her, usually she would have some reason; she seemed defeated, as if she had no cares left to give.

"Do you mind stepping outside for a minute? I think we need to talk." Cary was worried. About Alicia, about the firm, about their clients; he needed to find out what was going on.

"Sure."

Outside ("Seriously, we need walls in this place! And doors!"), Cary faced her again. "Alicia, something is going on. You know that usually I wouldn't ask, but it is affecting our firm. You've missed meetings, when you're at them you seem like you're somewhere else, you look like you haven't slept in days. I need you to talk to me."

Alicia sighed. He was right – she'd barely scraped twenty hours sleep in the week since her run in with Damien (Was it normal to count? she wondered). And it was interrupted; she no longer had to deal with him in cases, but she couldn't escape him in her own mind. Even in her waking moments, he seemed to linger there, a constant presence on the edge of everything she did. "And what if I can't, Cary?" her voice was firm. "I'm fine, and you just need to trust me."

"Alicia, you need to stop that, you're not fine!" His voice was raising slightly in his frustration. "Everyone's noticed. You were normal, then last week suddenly you weren't!" He paused, and his voice was softer when he continued. "I think maybe it's you who needs to trust me.

"Cary, I can't." Alicia was firm, but she betrayed her desperation slightly. No one else needed to know. Frankly, between Will, Diane, and Damien, too many people already did for her liking. She may have broken down slightly in a weaker moment (why did that moment have to be at LG?), but she was here, she would get through this, and she damn well didn't need Cary Agos telling her it meant she couldn't do her job.

"Wait, last week – Alicia, is this about Will?" Like salt in the wound, where Will knew and Will got his petty revenge in a very public way, where she was stuck with cotton in her throat and her hands tied behind her back (or pinned above her head), unable to help herself.

"What? No!" If she was honest, she was a little offended by the accusation (however well-founded she refused to concede it may be, outside of the privacy of her own head).

Cary eyed her skeptically. "You were normal, then you went into Lockhart Gardner for the Cole deposition, and you've been acting weird ever since. I don't know what's going on between you two, but if something happened then you need to be able to separate that from our firm and our clients."

"Cary I promise you, Will has nothing to do with this."

He sighed. "But something did happen at Lockhart Gardner?" At least he seemed to believe her, even if he was insisting on poking his nose in places it absolutely didn't belong.

She looked him dead in the eye. "I am fine. Let it go, Cary."

"Alicia." It sounded almost like a warning.

"What? What are you gonna do? You need me here, Cary. And so what if something did happen at Lockhart Gardner? What does it really matter? He's been fired, so what does it matter?" Alicia was frantic and angry, and didn't seem to fully understand the implications of her short rant. Cary backed off.

"Okay," he said simply, and walked back inside.

"Hey Kalinda."

"Hey Cary," she replied, joining him at the barstools. "So what's up?"

He paused to order two tequilas. "Who's been fired from Lockhart Gardner recently?" he asked. He wasn't sure what he would do with the information once he had it, but he needed to know. Anything that would put him one step closer to having the issues at the firm dealt with.

"Why?" While he was sure she was suspicious, her tone was careful, practiced curiosity.

"I want to offer them a job," he replied sarcastically. "Just tell me."

"Tell me why." Kalinda's eyes were locked with his.

Cary hesitated, looking away to sip at the tequila that had been placed in front of him. "Alicia's been acting weird lately, and it's got something to do with whoever was just fired from Lockhart Gardner." He placed his drink back on the bar, and looked back up at her. "So, who is it?"

That gave Kalinda some pause. "Weird how?" With David Lee's bitching, no one had missed hearing about the explosive exit of Damien Boyle. Yet, everyone had been either clueless or strangely tight-lipped as to why exactly it was that he left.

He had to stop himself from groaning. "Come on Kalinda." Show no weakness, especially to the enemy. And while Cary wasn't sure he wanted to class Kalinda as an enemy per say, she certainly wasn't a friendly right now either.

"Cary." She raised her eyebrow expectantly.

"You answer mine and I'll answer yours," his voice turned charming.

"You first."

Cary knew when to cut his losses. With any luck (and wasn't he just so damn lucky at the moment, with a sinking firm, employees to support, and a partner who was more interested in watching paint dry than doing her job right now), Kalinda might even give him her insight. He doubted it. "She's been distracted, missing meetings, deadlines. It doesn't look like she's been sleeping. And she's been kind of jumpy."

Kalinda nodded. "Damien Boyle." She downed her tequila and left.

The day it happened, Alicia had feigned normalcy. She went home, she made dinner for her kids, she stayed up working, then she went to bed. Nothing had really happened, she reasoned. And if nothing had really happened, then that meant she was okay. Her thoughts were interrupted by a beep from her phone.

You into anything kinky? ;)

It was Damien Boyle's number. Alicia sighed and rolled over, choosing to ignore the message. But she was alone, with nothing to do but think, and the floodgates were open for thoughts to slip their way unwanted into her mind.

Why didn't I fight back?
I'm so stupid.
I could have stopped it from happening.
I fucked up.
Bad.
I could have done so much more to stop it.
Said something.
Done something.
At least nothing serious happened.
But if nothing serious happened, why am I so affected?
I'm weak.
I hate being weak.
As far as anyone else is concerned, everything after he pushed me against the wall never happened.
But what if it happens again?
Fuck.
I'm overreacting; it's really not that bad.
I didn't even say 'no'.

Alicia stared at her phone after scrolling through her contacts for what must have been the fiftieth time.

"There's no one," she whispered to herself. She needed to talk to someone, and really talk, beyond the simple relaying of facts. But there wasn't a single person she felt she could speak freely to. Diane seemed the obvious choice, given her proximity to the events, but that would be uncomfortable; she had never really had that kind of relationship with the older woman. She hadn't told Peter, and the reaction he was likely to have felt like the last thing she needed. Owen's reaction would be different, but similarly unhelpful. There was too much past and tension for Will to be an option. Alicia needed to let it all out, free of distraction, maybe even until she could cry (she imagined it would be therapeutic to cry); but with Will there would be apologies for words left unspoken, and words that should have been. It would be messy, complicated. No, definitely not what she needed. Kalinda. She had paused on that name. Once upon a time, that would have been it. Now she wasn't so sure. Maybe it was better this way. If she told someone, then their treatment of her would change, and every subsequent interaction would serve as a reminder of what had happened. That she was weak. She put her phone aside, and continued in her pointless pursuit of rest, mind plagued with memories.

Alicia stared at the clock on her bedside table. 05:30. It seemed reasonable enough that she should be getting up now. The hours had passed slowly, and refused to grant Alicia the sweet release of unconsciousness. With some effort, she pulled herself out of bed and dragged herself into the bathroom. She cleaned her teeth first; she had the sickening feeling that she could still taste him. Then, she got in the shower. She only lasted a few moments before she slid down so that she was sat on the floor, cradling herself, staring blankly in front of her. She wanted to adjust the temperature of the water, it wasn't nearly hot enough, but her arms were so heavy. She didn't know if she had the effort to expend. So she sat there, while the minutes passed, eventually drumming up the motivation to raise her hand and turn up the heat. Her skin was red by the time she got out.

Her phone was vibrating when she got back to her bedroom.

Did you enjoy our little run in yesterday? I know I did.

Damien.

He continued to text her every hour or so (when he told her how good she tasted she thought she might throw up). It made it difficult to continue deluding herself into believing that it had just been an uncomfortable encounter and that was that, but she tried. It was easier than the alternative.

Yet, Alicia felt as if she was an empty shell, going through the motions. There was a part of her mind constantly devoted to thinking about it. What happened. She couldn't name it, that made it sound far more serious than it was, she reasoned. It would remain known as 'what happened' in her mind until she could find a suitable word. The R-word was far too grandiose and dramatic for something so small. Surely to call it that would be disrespectful to real victims, and to make light of their struggle. Her path to walk was a far cry from that, she reasoned. She was an outsider to to the torments of rape victims. But then, why did she feel like one?

To the world outside her head, it was an ordinary day.