She was five years old when her mother first took real notice to her odd habits. When other children were playing in the dirt, Emma Pillsbury was playing house by cleaning everything in sight with a can of Lysol. Mrs. Pillsbury dismissed it as inconsequential, and merely thanked whomever it was up there that her daughter was so hygienic. As she grew up the habits became more pronounced, and Emma's cleanliness involved into a daily regimen of complete and very organized sanitation of herself and the world around her. Mrs. Pillsbury and everyone around Emma were quite supportive and after getting over the few quirks, accepted it without a second thought. It wasn't until the seventh grade that Mrs. Pillsbury thought her daughter might have a slight problem. It was when she came to coax her daughter from the school bathroom and watched as she continuously scrubbed her hands raw, muttering on about germs and biology and videos and, "Oh God, they're everywhere," for a full four hours did she decide to get Emma evaluated by a recommended child psychiatrist.
Medicines didn't help to stop her phobia, but her psychiatrist was able to talk her into setting up a schedule to help her function in the world and not fall into full out panic attacks whenever the horrid germs invaded her space, or when something was just a bit out of place. The years passed and therapy allowed life to continue as normally as possible for an obsessive compulsive, mysophobic girl. Of course, the teenage years were cruel to her unique character, but Emma, ever the optimist, looked back and viewed high school as a solidifying of character. It also was the driving reason why she was walking right back into a building filled with such unhygienic teenagers and their teachers with the role of guidance counselor for yet another school year.
However many ways she could put her oddities to blame for much of her behavior, Emma was grasping at straws by blaming such for the way she could not seem to tear her eyes away from William Schuester's mouth when he was talking to her. Even if there was the slight acknowledgement that William's right front tooth was just a bit crooked compared to his other straight teeth, her mind could barely digest such a fact and go into panic mode before she was completely disarmed by the lips that were attached to such an imperfection. Lips that, as she watched him spill his problems with his marriage life and search for joy in the rag tag group of kids in Glee Club , made something inside her chest automatically want to emit a longing sigh. When Sue Sylvester, self proclaimed hater of everyone, pointed out that Emma was, "Mind raping that puppy dog's lips like a man in a desert took to a water mirage," Emma was shocked that she was doing such and then quickly and logically reasoned that it was that crooked tooth that made her stare, besides, such thoughts were entire inappropriate and unethical. She was merely giving guidance to a fellow co-worker. Sue's smirk screamed smug and she walked out of the room with a hint of a sentence about the Nile and Egypt.
And it certainly was due to her many phobias that made her want to spend every extra minute with one Will Schuester, even going so far as to giving up an evening riding on a completely unsanitary school bus to yet another dirty high school because somehow, this man was able to calm her panic inducing brain into something resembling calm. He was able to test her limits and was so very kind by accepting, and going as far as to accommodate her lifestyle. Never mind that her thoughts weren't thinking of the germs that were definitely crawling all over his hand which was on her back guiding her into the auditorium, or that the calming effect he carried with him was doing absolutely nothing for her pounding heart, of course.
When Ken approached her, it was so easy to point out everything that was wrong with her that surely any sane man would never be able to stand. She confronted Rachel in the bathroom, leaning over a toilet, and knew that with her quirks she'd always been an outsider; she didn't date for fear of being hurt and empathized with Rachel completely in her feelings of unrequited love from past teen crushes. Never mind that her last bout of crying in a car was only a few weeks ago, with her singing cheesy break up songs and cursing wedding rings and peppy cheerleaders and thinking, really, who falls in love in high school anyway? Or that after Tanaka had so maturely wiped his filthy saliva all over her door handle, Will had seen her pouring so much disinfectant on it he was sure the paint would peel off and instead of dismissing her as crazy, merely opened the door for her?
He was just such a nice, wonderful, caring guy who was doing what no medicine had done for her before. Emma loved helping people, she loved helping Will, and it was only a small benefit that the constant distraction of pathogens and flu seasons and the crooked poster behind his head that would have driven her into an absolute frenzy were lost as she gazed into his eyes. Which just so happened to be the most beautiful color she'd ever seen. So when Sue tossed one of Emma's own guidance pamphlets into her lap, the words "Admitting is the first step to recovery" highlighted and circled with Sharpie, one day after she'd seen Emma making those damned sickening Bambi Eyes – as Sue called them – at Will during the entire lunch, Emma only laughed lightly, and blamed her wide eyed gaze on her disorder and that disarming, charming man- ahem – crooked tooth.
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