A/N: My muse has apparently disappeared but that scene in the extended promo wouldn't leave me alone unless I wrote something. Josh Charles' eyes will kill me this season. I'm sure of it. This will be a two-shot, there will be an Alicia's POV after this one. I'm not sure I can actually write angry Will properly but I tried my best to stay IC with his new attitude. The quote here is from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar from which I also stole the title.

"And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial."

What he remembered acutely was the rage.

Scorching, infernal, scathing and annihilating rage that obliterated everything else. Every other feeling, every attempt at rationality, every external circumstance had been engulfed in the bottomless abyss of his anger.

He had no recollection of the words that had been said after "Alicia is going with them", nor of the seconds it had taken to get to her office and not even of what appliance on her desk had lightly bruised his hand. Those were all collateral elements.

On the other hand, he could recall with exact precision the quintessential urgency to explode and to do it in front of her, to let her watch the detonation of the bomb she had armed. His ire had infinite fuel in the agony he was experiencing. Words were inadequate to express what he was going through but he had thrown some of them together to prolong the physical outburst into a verbal one.

"I hired you."

When nobody else wanted to.

"I pushed for you."

When the entire world seemed to be against you.

"I loved you."

Silence stretched while the third sentence remained unsaid. Even in the middle of the blind folly that had taken hold of him he had managed to spare himself that humiliation.

Even a full day later, he wasn't surprised at just how quickly his love for her had been poisoned by her decision. She had pulled him in and pushed him far, she had started each kiss with anticipation and ended it with a sigh of rejection. She had nurtured the hope that they could be professional and personal partners and beheaded it with a clean swoop when it had become superfluous. She had tugged his heartstrings and severed them without regard. She had accepted his friendship and discarded once the worth had been exhausted. The shield that had protected her on so many occasions had turned suddenly into a vengeful weapon , now that she had chosen to leave his side. A weapon he was fully prepared to use.

"What? Have I made you speechless? Wasn't it only yesterday that words of loyalty flowed right out of your silver tongue on national television?"

He had been watching, drink in hand, as always, and those pledges to her husband that he had considered half-lies had been revealed the following day as full truths.

She was shocked, maybe a touch fearful and he reveled in making her uncomfortable, in letting her know the kind of monster she had generated with her deception.

"Are you a masochist? Is that it, Alicia? Do you need to be publicly humiliated and betrayed in order to be devoted?"

His voice had gotten louder. Let the entire firm bear witness to the full range of his anger. Let them marvel at his behavior in worry and disgust. Fear and hatred could not do worse than what safety and love had accomplished.

Her answer had been unexpected. He had imagined her to stay silent or to break in a series of useless sorrys. Instead, she had been firm even in a tone of voice that was a little more than a whisper.

"You don't mean that."

A few minutes before he wouldn't have. But in that moment, his brain was re-editing each one of their memories, spoiling them with the knowledge of what would come later. All the subtle rejections now marking a pattern that he should have recognized as headed towards destruction. Now that she had rendered everything he had done for her a laughable collection of foolish actions he did mean it. Peter had thrown her violently off the pedestal of her perfect life and he got affection and commitment, he had been the one to give her a hand to get up, he had paved the way for her thriving success and what had he gotten for his trouble? A well-struck knife in his back. Oh, yes, he meant it.

"But I do. "

She seemed to falter at this revelation. Time to press on. Dispersed the loving cloud that had always surrounded her, he could now assess her almost objectively. Masochist but also cunning, manipulative, shrewd.

"Or is it just that you and your husband are true soul-mates? Tell me, have you compared notes, plotting how to best assure my demise? Grand jury wasn't enough and so now it's your turn to try?"

She looked as if she had been slapped. Words were doing a decent-enough job after all. She recovered swiftly though.

"Will, if you believe something, please believe this. I never meant to hurt you."

The sentence incensed him even more. He was so damn unimportant to her that his complete downfall was in the subcategory that gets most easily swept under the rug: collateral damage.

He was lunging for his next verbal attack when a voice interrupted him.

"Will, that's enough. Alicia is going."

"I'll say when it's enough."

He was ready to reverse his fury on the investigator too when Kalinda interposed herself between him and Alicia and painfully constricted both of his arms with her hands.

"Will, this is not you."

His first impulse had been to swat her off like the nuisance she was being. What did she know about who he was anyway? He himself didn't know how far the new Will was willing to take the perverse revenge that he would inflict on Alicia. He had to keep moving, he had to see the object of his rage and try to drag her with him into the dark and rapid descent towards an unforgiving Hell.

But then the distraction Kalinda had provided had been enough for Alicia to hurriedly grab her bag and flee towards the door.

A big part of him wanted nothing more than to corner her in the elevator, so that they both could say words that would not be forgotten and that would permanently debase whatever they had shared to a twisted delusion he would archive never to be revisited again.

Diane was approaching though, and a line of people had formed to guarantee Alicia safe passage.

He let her go but not without a last remark.

"Enjoy every second of every minute of every day Alicia. Every smiling photo supporting your husband, every family dinner, every victory at your shiny new firm. Enjoy but watch your back, and your front and your sides. Make no mistake, I will destroy you. And it still won't make us even."

He turned around and never saw what effect, if any, his threat had had on her. He had been too afraid to uncover, with a single look, an awful truth: despite everything, hurting her was still painful.

He wished he could blame Kalinda for the monstrous headache he was experiencing. After all, she had been the one to insist that he needed to "drink it out". The truth was that there was no way he could have spent the night before sober. Alcohol had to have been invented for situations like his.

Kalinda had been by his side ever since he had been left alone in Alicia's office. She had nodded to Diane and then escorted him out when the situation had been placated. He had tried to protest a bit but unconvincingly. He would not have been focused to work or do anything else other than yell anyway.

She had insisted in getting food in him before bringing him to a bar he had never seen before. He had liked the interior. Shady enough that nobody would care if he drowned in scotch but not worrying enough for fear to prevent the dulling of senses.

At some point, during the part of the night that still existed in his mind he had gone back on topic.

"You shouldn't have stopped me."

"Why?"

"I had things to say. I deserved to say things."

"Things?"

"I didn't even say that I hate her."

"Oh, please, Will. Children say they hate each other."

"Maybe, it doesn't make it any less true."

"It makes it just one out of many feelings."

"You're right. I hate her and I'm furious with her."

"And you love her."

"You can't think so low of me."

"A love like yours doesn't disappear overnight, I doubt it can disappear in the time it took you to get to her office."

"You're wrong. Love can disappear in the instant you find out she's betrayed you."

"Then why are you still pining?"

"I'm not pining, I'm planning my revenge."

"Planning your revenge looked a lot different when it was just Cary and the others."

"She is the First Lady and she has more clients."

"Sure, that must be it."

They had both gulped their respective drinks and he had thought the conversation over when she intervened.

"I'm sorry, Will. You didn't deserve it."

"Sure I did, I broke rule number one."

"Do you need me to ask?"

"I do."

"What's rule number one?"

"Mr. Finch, the lawyer in charge of us associates in Baltimore made us earn our lessons. First case won, first rule. "Always be paranoid. There's always someone out to get you!". I wasn't paranoid enough. Otherwise, I would have seen."

"What would that have changed? Knowing before?"

"Days not spent thinking she walked on water."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity."

"I'm not offering any."

"Then what is the sorry for?"

"It's a fact. I'm sorry. I'll help you fix it."

"There's no fixing it. Only revenge."

"I'll be there."

"Are you sure?"

"What do you mean?"

"I might be deflating now but I'm still furious as hell. No rules, no compassion, no nothing. I won't stop until I've crushed them... her."

"I know."

"This is me now. I won't accept any more interference."

She had seemed troubled but she had nodded.

The sunshine was streaming from his windows flooding the place with unpleasant light. The world, as always, was carrying on without attention to his misfortunes. He stopped to watch the view outside, eyes still adjusting and head throbbing. For a flickering instant the image of him and Alicia sharing that view during a long weekend flashed in his mind. He allowed himself a minute or two of mourning his misguided hopes for a shared happiness. Then he summoned his rage and started his day.

What he remembered acutely was the rage. What he would not forget was the pain.