When he'd presented her with the business card, she'd just stared at it for a few seconds, and then forced a smile. She'd thanked him – because that was the polite thing to do, and he loved her, and she recognized the need to change and to guide herself back to normalcy. It wasn't a judgement. It was a compass, and she as a guidance counsellor realized the need for a compass in times like these.
The fact is, though, her natural defences sprung to life, and it really took all she had not to stare him in the eyes and ask plaintively what exactly was so wrong with the way she was now.
Okay, mysophobia. Germophobia, fear of germs, whatever the hell you want to call it – it's a problem. She can't touch doors and she can't have sex and she has to wash her grapes three times under water and wipe them with Lysol cloths. It's annoying. She could try harder.
But to out and out force therapy on her in order to continue the relationship hurt. She took the card, and she stared at it in her office, and instead of throwing it in the garbage, crying, and then ignoring him for the next few days, she picked up the phone and called the number.
It turned out to be one of the best things she could do for herself, but it wasn't because of Will.
/~/
Emma legitimately almost threw up when Sue Sylvester marched into her office, track suit rippling in the wind she created by simply moving purposefully through the school. She preferred to stay under the radar when it came to Sue; the woman scared her, not only because she was a bitch, but because there was something just barely controlled there, as if Sue could snap at any moment and bring out a machine gun and kill half the school.
Personally, Emma felt Sue could use some therapy. However, she wasn't going to be the one to suggest it; not by far.
Sue stood in Emma's office and glared at her. "Well, Erma, the time has come. You've finally decided to address that crippling mental illness you've been ruining other people's lives with."
Emma opened her mouth, then closed it. "I'm sorry?"
"Personally, I commend you. I've noticed how others have to bow to your ridiculous needs and really, it was getting tiring. Thankfully, you're showing the first glimmer of intelligence I've ever seen from you by seeking therapy."
The smile Sue gave Emma reminded her of a lion licking its chops before indulging in some poor zebra, and Emma cowered back a little in her desk, eyes huge and wary.
"Sue . . . how do you know about me finally getting therapy?" Emma's voice was soft, almost inaudible, and Sue smiled even wider.
"Congratulations. I'm your therapist. I find that it's really great for my image in this community to give back to the less fortunate. And unfortunately, Alma, you are quite a bit less fortunate than I am."
"I didn't request you," stammered Emma, conveniently leaving out the fact that she hadn't requested anyone in particular, but Sue rolled her eyes.
"The agency felt that because we both work in the same place, it'd just be easier this way. Now, enough of this wasting time. I'm here because it's finally time for you to get past all your annoying behaviours and learn to stand up for yourself."
"I'm really not comfortable with this," said Emma, firmness coming into her tone. "You don't want to help me. You just want to make me feel bad."
Sue rolled her eyes. "Let's quit with the whining from the start, okay? I don't want to make you feel bad. Listen, Anna. I've watched you and that ridiculous Will Schuester play your run-around games and it's frankly just tiring. Like I literally want to take both of you out back and just shoot you. It's so sad."
Emma just blinked at Sue until Sue finally lost patience. "Say something! Don't just sit there, blinking like a fawn. Stand up for yourself!"
Emma found her voice. "I don't want you to be my therapist," she said flatly. "And I don't appreciate what you're saying to me."
"Listen, Ellen. No one said you were going to like what your therapist has to say. The point is, you need to learn to quit being so annoying. Think of this as your own personal crash course in how to be more like me. After all, you got lucky," winked Sue. "I'm committed to constant self-improvement. You could learn something from that, Ina."
"It's EMMA!" suddenly boomed Emma, losing patience and standing up. "You get my name wrong every time, Sue, and it's not any of the names you call me. My name is Emma, and YOU can learn to call me by my name."
Sue froze for a moment, and locked eyes with Emma. Emma felt an uncontrollable urge to look away, but she kept her eyes on Sue and finally, the older woman smiled.
"Yes. That's more of what I want to see." She stood up, making for the door, and turned back to pin Emma with her eyes.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Emma."
/~/
Emma found Will sitting on the bench outside of the trophy case, gazing into the clear glass box with somewhat of a wistful expression.
"Hi, Will." Emma's voice was quiet, and Will looked up, his face lighting up as he saw her.
"Hi, Em. I'm just thinking. Figgins gave me another ultimatum today about Glee, and I'm just so tired of it. Why didn't Lillian Adler ever have any problems with our club? I mean, granted, she didn't have Figgins for a principal, but still . . . if there were ever any budget issues or Sue Sylvesters waiting in the wings to destroy us, we never knew about it."
Emma sat beside him, crossing her legs, and then spoke, her voice thoughtful.
"The problem is, Will, you just don't seem to have enough faith that the kids can pull this off enough to save the club. Figgins is concerned about budget. Sue . . . she's concerned about her own agenda, I guess. But what are you concerned about?"
Will met her eyes. "I'm concerned about the kids succeeding."
"No, you're concerned about losing the last constant in your life." Emma smiled a little, knowingly, and nodded when Will sheepishly smiled back.
"Don't do it because if you don't, you have no familiarity left. Do it because of the reason you did it in the first place – because you're passionate about seeing these kids succeed, and because you love what you do with Glee."
Emma stood up. "I need to go. Anyway, think about what I said."
"Em – how are you doing?"
"Fine, actually. I accessed that therapy. It's helping." She smiled. "Thanks."
"Listen, I was wrong to push that on you. I shouldn't have made it an ultimatum in our relationship."
"Look, Will, you probably did me a favour, okay? I was getting a little ridiculous, polishing door handles and all. I need to focus on making my life better. I need to erase the constants that stop me from moving forward."
Will looked surprised, and Emma looked down at her hands. "Anyway. Think about what I said. Come by for a chat if you need it."
"Emma – "
She turned at the sound of her name, and tried to smile. "What's up?"
"You're just . . . different. I don't know."
"Maybe." She didn't elaborate, and he didn't say anything else, but as she hurried away, she felt her heart sinking a little.
Maybe being different, though liberating, wasn't going to be as great as she thought.
/~/
She'd screamed at Will in the cafeteria, on Sue's advice, and now she was sitting in her office, scrawling on a pad and trying her best to focus on the notes she was taking from the latest online course she'd signed herself up for. Figgins was fine with her doing coursework in her downtime, but she jumped anyway when she heard a rustling at the door.
Will stood with flowers, smiling his sheepish smile that Emma had always found so endearing before. Today, though, she found his interruption, and the smile, annoying.
"What can I do for you, Will?" Her voice was clipped, and his face fell. He brandished a bouquet of beautiful flowers toward her, and she eyed them, allowing a small, courteous smile to cross her face.
"Thank you, they're lovely." She placed them on her desk and looked at him. "Listen. I'm sorry for what I said, but Will, honestly, you haven't been fair. And this is not going to fix it."
"I know, but Emma – it wasn't what you thought it was. And I think you were unfair," he announced recklessly, which made her eyebrows shoot into her hairline.
"I'm sorry, what? You put an ultimatum on this relationship – I get therapy while you find yourself. That doesn't mean that you get to do whatever you want while I work on myself, Will. Finding yourself does not mean acting like a slut. You were supposed to do some introspection, too."
"Emma, I have. And I love you. I always have loved you, since the moment I saw you turn towards me that first day of school. You looked so lost . . . and I just wanted to take care of you."
Emma cleared her throat, looking down at the flowers. "I used to think that was charming. I still do, sort of. But Will, I'm done being that shy little girl who can't go two steps without sanitizing." She stood up, and opened the glass door.
"I'm ready to find myself for awhile. To look at where I need to improve. And I'm ready to not be so hung up on you."
She stood tall, feeling her hunched shoulders straighten out and uncoil; feeling her eyes widen and her mouth firm up. "I don't need saving. I have the tools to save myself. And I'm done trying to make other people's lives better without examining my own."
He just looked at her, and then sighed. "I know I was unfair. And I'm sorry, Emma. You don't need to change for me."
"But that's what you don't get, Will. You're so egocentric; you don't even see that I'm not changing for anyone but myself. I'm making my life better. And if there's a time and a place for this, then yes, I want to be with you. But not under the circumstances we had before."
He was quiet, then, "Is there someone else?"
Emma sighed. "Yes, but that's not the point of this. There were many someone elses with you. And that's fine, Will, we never said we'd be exclusive."
He pouted stubbornly. "I regret it, okay. Because I miss the way you used to look at me, Emma. I miss the way you used to smile."
Emma put a gentle hand on his shoulder, and after a moment, he covered it with his own.
"I'm not the same person. Will, that's a good thing. You're not the same person, either. If we go through life without any growth, what's the point?"
"The point is, I want to be with you!" His childish insistence, while annoying, was somewhat plaintive, and she squeezed his shoulder.
"Then let's work on improving ourselves, first. I need some time to be me, without wondering if I'm ever going to get to be with you."
She leaned down and kissed his hair, and he closed his eyes.
"You're welcome to come for a chat, any time."
"I miss you."
And truthfully, she replied, "I miss you, too."