Amongst the vending machines and year-old magazines
In a place where we only say goodbye
It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend
On a faulty camera in our minds
But I knew that you were a truth I would rather lose
Than to have never lain beside at all
The first time Emma Pillsbury's emergency contact was called was the first time Will Schuester found out that he had the job.
After taking a few deep breaths and donning her rubber gloves (just for comfort), Emma picked up the card that Will handed her in his office and began to dial the numbers into her phone. It took a few attempts because the gloves made it difficult, but when a sweet voice answered on the other end, Emma didn't hang up. And that was her first step in her therapy.
Much to Emma's surprise, Dr. Caldwell had been more than helpful. She talked to Emma in a way that wasn't condescending or judgmental, which is exactly what Emma expected to find when she walked through the perfectly painted doors. Within two sessions, she had disclosed the event that she had only ever told one other non-family member.
But the one part of her life that she wasn't entirely open about was the part that he occupied.
Dr. Caldwell knew of Will. Emma would sometimes slip and his name would come tumbling from her lips mid-story. Her delicate hand would fly to her mouth, her cheeks would burn, and her eyes would widen. And every time, Dr. Caldwell would prompt her to continue, Will's name becoming a thing of the past – just a bullet-point in her notes.
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The first time Will's phone rang with the unknown number flashing across the screen, he tossed it on the couch and let it fall between the cushions.
When the phone rang again less than a minute later, Will searched the cushions, pulling out a set of chopsticks left over from his Chinese take-out and a bill that was probably past-due.
His fingers finally touched the phone and he flipped it open, pressing it to his ear. "Hello?"
"William Schuester?"
"Speaking," he said while throwing away a stale fortune cookie.
"My name is Joanna, I'm the secretary in Dr. Caldwell's office…"
Caldwell. The name sounded familiar.
"We have a patient named Emma Pillsbury here and - "
Panic seized his chest. "Is she all right?" Will was pulling shoes on before Joanna even had time to answer him.
"She's all right. She had a bit of an episode and we needed to administer a sedative."
"A sedative?" Will tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear as he searched his pockets for his keys.
"She had a severe panic attack. She's all right now, but groggy. We need someone to bring her home and you are her emergency contact."
Will froze.
"Mr. Schuester?"
"I'm here. I am?"
"Yes, I have the paperwork right here in front of me."
Will continued the search for his keys. "I'll be there in ten minutes."
He ended the call and stared at his phone. Of all the people in her life, why had she chosen him? The rational part of his brain knew why – her closest family was in Virginia and, once upon a time, they had been friends.
But the stubborn part of his brain refused to get his hopes up.
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Voices perforated the haze of her consciousness and she tried to find a familiar one to latch onto. Her eyes fluttered open and she immediately slammed them shut. The room was spinning and her head felt foggy. She giggled. How could someone's head feel foggy?
"Emma? Emma, how are you feeling?" Dr. Caldwell's voice sounded far away.
"Overcast." Emma tried to blink her eyes and focus on the doctor in front of her.
"At least your breathing's back to normal. You had us a bit worried there for a second."
"I did?" Emma tried hard to remember what happened prior to her wakening.
"Oh yes." Emma felt Dr. Caldwell pat her on her knee. "There's someone here to see you."
"There is?"
"Hi."
Emma's head whipped toward his voice and it took her vision a second to catch up.
"Will?" Her voice came out as a whisper and she cleared her throat as she watched him edge closer. Her vision was becoming slightly less blurry and his features began to come into focus. His forehead was creased with worry and his knees popped as he crouched down next to her.
"Are you okay?"
"I can't feel my face, but other than that, I'm swell."
Will chuckled and his breath was warm against her cheek. "At least your sense of humor is still intact. Can you sit up?"
He reached out for her hand and she took it before she could second-guess herself. She felt Will place one hand under her back as the other wrapped around her arm, gently tugging her into a seated position. His hands lingered until her dizziness passed. He brushed the hair that had fallen into her face back behind her ear but he seemed to catch himself and pull away as if burned. She didn't comment.
"Let's get you home." His grip was strong but gentle on her upper arms as he practically lifted her into a standing position. The moment he let go, she felt herself beginning to fall, but before she could even brace for impact, his arms were around her once again.
"She'll sleep well tonight. The effects will be gone when she wakes up tomorrow." Dr. Caldwell's voice floated across the room.
"Thanks for calling me." Though the words were meant for Dr. Caldwell, Emma knew he spoke them to her. Before she could utter a "thank you" in return, he had swept her up into his arms and was carrying her down the hallway. Her eyelids drifted shut as her head lolled against his shoulder and that was the last she remembered.
When she woke the next morning, he was gone. She stumbled from her bed to the kitchen and found a note on the counter: "Call me if you need anything. – Will." But other than that scrap of paper, he was a ghost. There were no mud tracks leading from the front door to her bedroom, no lights left on, no knocked over picture frames. Even her shoes had been removed and placed in her closet in their designated box. Her disgust at sleeping in her day clothes was slightly lessened by the fact that Will had been gentlemanly enough to not undress her. In that moment, she realized that Will never once asked what had set her off and put her into that state. He never once wondered how someone could get that worked up over something so relatively small. He accepted it. He accepted her. He wasn't a ghost, he was just Will. And being Will meant driving to her aid on a Friday evening, no questions asked.
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After that first call, Will saved Dr. Caldwell's number in his phone so he would know not to throw it into the abyss of his couch. So he was thoroughly perplexed when another unknown number with a Lima area code flashed across his screen.
"No, I do not want super fast cable," he muttered as he flipped it open. "Hello?"
"William Schuester?"
Immediately, Will tensed. The last caller that had addressed him so formerly called bearing less than stellar news.
"Speaking."
"This is Claire, I'm a nurse at St. Rita's - "
"What happened to Emma?" Will cut her off before she could finish. It could have been anyone he knew. It could have been his mother, his father, his glee kids; hell, they could have been calling to confirm his blood type, but he knew it was her.
"Mr. Schuester, there was a car accident."
The air left Will's lungs.
"And?"
"Ms. Pillsbury is in stable condition. She's in surgery right now - "
"Surgery? How is surgery stable?" Will was already sprinting down the stairs of his apartment building.
"Sir, when you get here, everything will be explained."
"I'm on my way." Will opened to the door to his beat up car and tossed the phone on the passenger seat. He violated about ten rules of the road as he broke every speed limit Lima had to offer. His heart was practically pounding out of his chest and he occasionally looked in the rearview mirror to see if flashing lights were flagging him down. Every time he glanced at his reflection, he was still surprised to see tears streaming down his face.
The hospital was quiet for 9:30pm on a Saturday. Will's voice felt unnaturally loud as he ran up to the front desk and asked where Emma Pillsbury was. The nurse named Claire ushered him down a hallway, around a corner, and down another hallway as she explained the situation. Will only registered every other word: "Accident, drunk, broadside, Emma, trauma, EMTs, surgery, cautiously optimistic." Will hated the words.
"Wait, Emma was in the passenger seat?"
Claire nodded.
"Then who was driving?"
Claire pointed down the hall they were walking to a man with dark hair and a plastered wrist sitting with his head in his hands. Will stopped short and it suddenly became very hard to breathe.
"Carl."
"You know him?"
Will swallowed hard. "I know of him." Claire tried to continue on, but Will remained rooted to his spot. "What about the kid who hit them?"
"He's in the ICU. Have a seat down there and we'll let you know when we have an update."
Will glanced at the end of the hall with trepidation. This was not how he wanted his first encounter with Carl to go. Juvenile though his desires were, he wanted to be wearing something other than old jeans and a beat-up college hoodie. He wanted to be doing something really cool and difficult, something a dentist couldn't do. Most of all, he wanted Emma near him for support. He didn't want to be waiting for word on the woman he loved with the man who had more right to be here than he did.
He made his feet take one step after another until, despite his wishes, he was standing in front of the man who looked just as broken as Will felt. He cleared his throat and Carl looked up.
"You must be Will."
"You must be Carl."
Will held out his hand to shake, but Carl raised his cast and held out his left hand instead.
"Are you all right?"
Carl nodded. "I'm not quite sure what happened. One minute we were laughing about something your cheerleading coach said and the next…" He trailed off and ran a hand across his eyes. Will felt his throat closing up. "The next all I heard was a scream."
Will scuffed his toe against the linoleum as a tear splashed down on the floor. "They told me she was stable," Will said as much for Carl's benefit as for his own.
"What the hell does that even mean?"
Will took a seat next to the dentist and ran a hand through his hair. "That's what I said."
They sat in silence for a while, Carl leaning forward with his head in his hands, and Will leaning back his head resting against the plastered wall. The tension was eating at him. His worry for Emma, his hatred for the kid in the ICU, then his guilt for hating him, his jealousy for the man sitting next to him, the nauseating terror that swept over him whenever he thought that he might not ever be able to tell her how much she means to him. Sure, he told her he loved her. But god, it wasn't enough. "Love" wasn't enough. He needed her like a drowning man needs air. If he lost her without telling her…
Will shook with silent sobs, sobs that he didn't even realize had started. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up through swollen eyes to see Carl's unplastered hand resting there. Will had a strong desire to shrug it off and yet hold onto it for dear life. Only the man next to him understood just what Will was feeling at that moment. And the thought was both comforting and terrifying.
"She'll be okay." The roles were now reversed. Carl had become the voice of optimism and Will had become the inconsolable. "There are good doctors here. She'll pull through."
Will nodded but didn't trust his voice. Carl let his hand drop back down into his lap.
"She loves you, you know." Carl's voice was hollow, but straightforward. It was as if he had just rattled off the morning's weather report.
Will's head snapped towards the dentist. "Excuse me?"
"She loves you. She never actually told me, but… I knew from the beginning." Carl flexed his fingers in his cast and kept his eyes on his shoes. "Before we started dating, she would talk about you when she'd come in. She came in more often that my other patients so I got frequent updates on the happenings at McKinley." Carl shook his head and smiled, though it contained no mirth. "The way her face lit up when she talked about you, I mean my god… you'd have to be both blind and deaf because you could hear it in her voice, too." Carl didn't once look up at Will. "And it wasn't just in the way she talked about you; it was in the way she stopped talking about you… Now I don't know what happened between the two of you, but I know something did. You just…disappeared from her vocabulary. And that's when I knew. I knew that I could never compete with you, even if you were just a ghost to me."
Will sat there utterly dumbstruck. He had walked down the hallway hating this man, only to realize that he and Carl were both one and the same. Both thought the other was held on a higher pedestal by the woman they loved.
"I'm so sorry, Carl."
Carl shook his head. "Don't be."
"Dr. Howell? Mr. Schuester?"
Both men jumped to their feet as the doctor approached them.
"She's out of surgery."
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Pain. That was all that Emma could register. Every limb and every joint felt like it was on fire. She groaned and tried to open her eyes, but she felt like someone had put ten pound cucumbers on her lids.
"Hold on, sweetie." A sweet voice spoke over her and Emma squinted one eye open to see a nurse adjusting a dial on a morphine drip next to her bed.
Nurse. Morphine. Bed. Hospital.
Emma could hear the beep of her heart monitor rapidly increase and the nurse leaned over her, putting herself in Emma's eye line.
"Sweetie, calm down. You're okay, but I need you to breathe. You were in an accident but you're gonna be just fine."
Emma's chest tightened and no matter how deeply she inhaled, her lungs were getting no air.
"Emma. Breathe." The nurse's voice was stern and she hit a button next to the bed that raised the bed up into a reclined position.
"Where's Will?" Emma spit out in between ragged breaths.
"You mean Carl?"
"She means Will," Carl said as he entered the recovery room. "He's outside. I'll go get him."
Emma had no time to feel guilty over her clear preference of Will over Carl, but she needed familiarity, she needed someone who had been with her through this before. She needed… black spots dotted her vision and she could feel the blood drain from her face as she desperately tried to breathe.
"Emma."
She felt the pressure of him sitting next to her on the bed, but even with her eyes open, she couldn't see him. She was on the verge of passing out, but she felt his hand on her cheek.
"Emma, look at me."
"I can't see." She attempted to keep the hysteria out of her voice but failed.
"That happens. If you get worked up enough." The nurse said to calm both Will and Emma's panic.
"Okay, Emma, then listen to me. You're safe. I'm here. Carl's here. Nothing is going to happen to you. We won't let it."
Emma nodded but his words did nothing to speed the air to her lungs. He took her hand and placed it on his chest.
"Breathe when I breathe, Em. Slow it down. Shh."
Emma felt his rapid heartbeat, no doubt in worry over her, but she focused on the rise and fall of his chest and attempted to match it.
"That's right, Em. Breathe with me. You're safe. I'm not going anywhere…. You got a little banged up, but we're going to take you home as soon as you're ready. And we'll watch all of those horrible movies you insist on renting and eat loads of butter-free popcorn."
Emma managed a smile as he gripped her hand tighter to his chest. Spots of color began to appear and she tried to focus on Will. She could make out his navy blue sweatshirt, and his jeans. Behind him, she was beginning to make out Carl. His dark hair and his white shirt stained with blood. Her blood… she began to panic again.
"No, no, Em. Breathe with me. You're okay."
Will's voice brought her back around and when she focused on his face, she could clearly make out the worry etched across his features.
"I can see."
Will's head dropped to his chest. "Thank god."
"Not bad," the nurse said to Will as she checked Emma's monitors. "We should put you on staff."
Will shook his head. "I don't think I could take it."
Emma's breathing gradually evened out and she took a good look around the room. Will sat on the edge of her bed, still holding her hand to his chest. The nurse stood beside him and Carl stood at the foot.
"Carl." Her eyes teared up.
"I'm all right, Emma. Just a scratch." He held up his cast and tears fell down her cheeks.
"What happened?"
"Drunk driver."
Emma nodded and focused on the pristine white sheets that covered her legs. "Is he all right?"
"He's in ICU, honey, we'll know in a little while," the nurse said as he patted Emma's knee. "If you need anything at all, you hit this button right here." The nurse pointed to a button on the wall next to Emma's bed before leaving the three alone.
Will looked at where Emma's palm was pressed against his shirt and he slowly let go. Emma missed his warmth.
"I'm, uh, gonna go grab some coffee. I'll be back in a bit. Carl, you want any?"
Carl shook his head but Emma noticed a look of gratitude pass from the dentist to the teacher.
Emma wanted to stop Will before he could leave, but he was out the door and Carl took his place on her bed before she could open her mouth.
The look on Carl's face made Emma's heart beat faster and she had to consciously remind herself to breathe as he took her hand.
"Emma…"
The tone of his voice was apologetic and resigned. Emma knew it was coming. She had known it for weeks and if Carl didn't do it, she would have to do it herself. It wasn't fair to Carl, it wasn't fair to her, and it wasn't fair to Will.
"I know, Carl." She placed her hand over his uninjured one. "I know and I'm so sorry."
Carl smiled and squeezed her hand. "Don't apologize. It was wonderful to get to know you even a little bit. And I hope I find someone someday who looks at me the way he looks at you."
Emma's lower lip trembled but she managed to squeak out, "You're an amazing guy, Carl."
"These aren't exactly ideal circumstances, but when are they ever really ideal for something like this?... If you need anything, anything at all, even if it's just a grocery run, you call me. Otherwise, I'll see you at your next appointment." He leaned down and placed a kiss on her hand. "He'll take good care of you. I wouldn't leave you in lesser hands."
Carl's hand slipped out of hers and she watched his back as he walked out the door and out of her life… until her six month checkup. How did everything happen so quickly? Her eyes darted around at the white walls, and the machines, and the wires, and the starkness of the room and, in that moment, she felt utterly alone. She gripped the blanket and began to hyperventilate.
"Whoa there. Don't start that again," Will said as he breezed in and set his coffee cup down next to the bed.
Emma immediately reached out for his hand and she placed his hand over hers on his chest. She matched her breaths to his and was calm within a minute.
"Better?"
Emma nodded.
"Where's Carl?"
"He, um, he left. Things… things weren't working out."
Will nodded. Something passed across his face that gave Emma the impression that Will knew it was going to happen before she did. How long did they spend together in the waiting room, anyway?
"I'm sorry they didn't work out, Emma. I truly am."
Emma took comfort in the sincerity of his words. Though he was sorry, she was not. She was sorry that she couldn't give Carl what he needed, but she wasn't sorry it ended. It was what it was. And what it was, was not Will. She took the moment to study him. After part of a Spring and nearly an entire Summer of not talking, they fell back into it as if he had just walked into her office for advice.
"Tell me a story. Take my mind off of the fact that I'm in a germ infested hospital."
"I have to say, Em, I'm really proud of you. You've come so far."
"Well, start talking, buster, or that progress could turn around real quick."
Will laughed and started talking about Regionals, Jesse's betrayal, Sue's conniving. But when he started talking about the actual performance she held up her hand and stopped him.
"I have a confession."
"You have a confession?"
"You don't have to tell me about the performance…" She took a deep breath. "I was there."
"What?"
Emma reached out and held onto Will's arm because she was sure that if he leaned back any further he was going to fall ass over teacups off the bed.
"I stood in the back. I left after the winner was announced."
"I can't believe – Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wasn't ready to… And you didn't need me there."
"Oh yes I did."
Emma felt Will slide his fingers in between hers and hold on tight.
"I've needed you for a very long time."
Emma squeezed his hand in return and leaned back against the pillows. Against her own volition her eyelids fluttered shut and she sighed. "I've needed you too… Don't go anywhere."
"I'll be here when you wakeup."
Sure enough, he was.
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The last time Will received a call from an unknown Lima number, panic seized him and he leapt over the couch and tripped over the coffee table to get to his shoes should he need to make a mad dash to the hospital.
"Hello, Will Schuester speaking."
"I know it's you, Will. Who else answers your phone?"
Will's breath came in ragged pants as he tried to slow his racing heart. "Emma?"
"Of course it's me."
"Where are you calling from?"
"Oh, I changed phone companies and got a new number."
Will collapsed onto his couch. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought it was the hospital or Dr. Caldwell's office telling me you got trapped in a venus flytrap or something. For someone as overly cautious as you, you certainly get into a lot of trouble."
She was silent for a moment.
"Em? I was joking about the venus flytrap…."
"Can you come over?"
The abrupt question took him by surprise and he tried to remember where on earth he left his keys.
"Will?"
"Yeah? Oh of course, I'll be right over."
He hung up the phone and, after tearing the couch apart, he grabbed his keys and headed over to her condo.
Before he even raised his hand to knock, she swung the door open with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a pair of glasses in the other.
"Well hello to you too." Will smiled and leaned in to kiss her. "What's the occasion?"
Emma began to wander back into the kitchen, attempting to open the champagne bottle as she went. "I graduated today."
"Graduated what?" Will ducked as she inadvertently pointed the corked bottle at him.
"Therapy. Well, I can keep going as I see fit, but Dr. Caldwell said I've made significant progress and I've graduated the program I was on."
"Em, that's wonderful! Here, give me that before you lose an eye. Or I do." He kissed her cheek as he took the bottle away from her and, using his shirt, popped the cork without spilling a drop. "What made her decide today was the day?"
Emma bit her lip. "I talked about you."
"Me?"
Emma nodded. "For the past few weeks with Dr. Caldwell. You were always the one topic I shied away from, but after everything that's happened and everything you've done, I just… needed to talk."
Will nodded, but stayed silent as he poured two glasses.
"Don't you want to know what I said?"
"It's not my business," he said as he held out a champagne flute.
Emma smiled and gratefully took the outstretched glass. She would tell him if he wanted, but she had a sneaking suspicion he already knew. In the time since her accident, he had become a champion at halting her panic attacks, cheering her up when she got frustrated with physical therapy, answering her late night phone calls, and being there before she even realized she needed him. Even in the beginning, from the shameless flirting, to the hope, then the heartbreak, her history with Will Schuester could create a therapy program of its own.
Emma held up her glass. "To…?"
"New beginnings," Will offered as he clinked his glass against Emma's. "I'm so proud of you." He leaned in to kiss her.
Emma smiled against his lips. "I'm so proud of us."
Will leaned his forehead against Emma's and watched as she slowly undid his tie.
"Before we go any further, just do me a favor? Call me from a number I know from now on."
Emma smiled as she pulled the tie from around his neck. "Deal."
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If you had told Emma three years ago when she had neatly penciled in Will's name in the "Emergency Contact" blank on her health form that she was setting off a chain of events that would bring then-married Will Schuester to her hospital bed and put his hand in hers, she would have thought she was going crazy.
But as Will so lovingly tells her: she always had a little crazy in her.