"Your turn"
She heard him, almost felt his breath from across the table, laced with the beer that came from the bottle that sat without a coaster.
"Will, why? It won't make anything better"
He heard her; a tiny voice that fought it's way past bitten lips.
"…Because I want you to talk to me"
She pulled her knees closer to her chest; chin resting atop of them, hiding the whimsical pattern of her dress.
"No you don't. You want to spend this whole night wallowing in how horrible life can be and you want me not to notice that's the fourth drink you've had tonight."
His forearms rested with dizzying weight against the hard table, it was all so hard, and it was meant to be. It had been a week of hell and questions without answers. "Whose job was it?" a haunting flicker in his ear.
"Em, I just told you about the darkest times in my life," the cheating, the rooftop that made him shiver. "And I know you sat for six hours with Quinn Fabray's parents today."
She watched his hands shuffle the coasters that were left over from Terri and matched the curtains so perfectly, she winced, a poignant reminder that nothing else would ever be so effortless, nothing else would ever match.
How could hospital gown dwarf both those students, one a giant football star, the other a dainty diva? How could Sue conceive a child when Emma couldn't yet conceivable make love to her fiancé? How could David Karofsky fall into such a dark hole when they were all there watching him? How could Will sit here and tell her with tears in his eyes and his voice, that he had once wanted to die?
How could she ever sleep at night knowing that he was capable of such thoughts?
Emma adjusted the diamond on her finger to better reflect the light and cleared her throat.
"I did. And it was so horrible and I'm sorry but I'm not going to talk to you about it now Will". She didn't realise her finger and her thumb dancing patterns on the table until Will's movements mirrored her own. The perfect coasters were abandoned, sprawled out like Will against the mattress on a Sunday morning, like Quinn Fabray's hair on the sterile, white pillow.
"Then why are you sitting here in your special Wednesday sweater at one in the morning?"
They'd met in the kitchen at seven. She said she didn't feel like dinner as she brushed the hair from her face, so he poured her a wine while she lit candles and with the matches still clasped against her palm, she leaned against the table and kissed his mouth, just the corner. "I heard you had an emotional Glee club the other day", she hummed with the slightest tremor to his ear. He'd left her peanut butter with Rory and went home that day desperate to tell her a million things she'd never known about him.
The rooftop.
The condoms he kept in the dresser and the spare he kept in his wallet just in case.
The love letter he'd written to her years ago that sat almost forgotten in a box under the bed.
But it all got so busy and messy and Emma looked frail every morning, even as she brushed her teeth with a smile.
So tonight he told her, across the table, but it was early morning now and she hadn't touched him again, she hadn't fetched a tissue to wipe his tears or kissed his head or offered to bake a midnight batch of brownies like she had last month when he'd broken his little toe trying to outdance Mike Chang in the choir room.
"Because I can't stop thinking about you and what I might have missed"
"Well then it's a good thing you're marrying me" he smiled, the first beam of light.
At two she humoured him and followed him to the bedroom, minding to undress in the ensuite, the temptation was too risky. If he touched just below her belly button, like he did sometimes when she unbuttoned her blouse, Emma would press herself against him and let herself be taken over. The thought of losing Will made her desperate.
She opened the bathroom door to find him already in sleep with his palm cradling his cheek. No, as much as she wanted him, this was not the week for their first time.
Oh God. Emma sucked in a sharp breath of dread almost against her will. Her lover stirred at her back. Her fiancé with hot soothing skin pulled her closer while dreaming, and his hand shifted a little lower into her panties.
She held her breath to collect her thoughts but heard Will's gentle slumber and her own heart beating in her ears. And his hand.
Yes, she could almost hear the desire beaming from both of them. In a brave progression Emma had asked for it weeks ago and now it was their nightly treasure, a game to play when the lights went out.
"I can feel you" she'd whisper to his arousal at her back and on a good night he could roll the fabric off her waste create heat with two hands as they moved in a makeshift rhythm that always relented with a sigh or two.
Emma exhaled and tried to be quiet. Will always encouraged her to be loud but this wasn't for him, this moment wasn't a sweet, sweaty reaction to his fingers and hazy kisses on her neck.
She shifted the covers off herself and when he mumbled, she placated him as best she could. "Ssshh… go back to sleep sweat heart". Will gurgled and snuggled closer to the pillow. Emma smiled despite herself; they would have beautiful babies one day.
He found her on the couch with a rug pulled up to her chin. He was always finding Emma in one way or another. While Terri would walk into a room already spilling emotions, Will learnt Emma so slowly, it was captivating and at times overwhelmingly frustrating. But they forged ahead anyway, hand in hand. He bought home flowers for her because she was so hopelessly romantic and she made him breakfast every single day and hung off every word he said. They were getting married, they'd agreed.
"Good morning Mrs. Schuester", he smirked, giving his weight to the doorframe.
She opened her eyes, she hadn't slept. They traded smiles, hers was sheepish and his was curious as he found a place to sit on the arm of the sofa.
"Rough night?". She nodded shyly, his hand was gently rubbing her ankle, she watched it move. She always watched his movements. At first, he thought it was nerves. She was a new staff member, watchful of working in a faculty as vibrant and vicious as McKinley. But as the months wore on and winter came, he was watching as she unbuttoned her coat or warmed her hands on a novelty mug of herbal tea. It wasn't nerves but an all-consuming curiosity, however guarded.
"I got lonely in there without you" his hand stopped on her leg and his eyes shifted between her ponytail and the skin of her chest. She was beautiful and so unaware, he felt a tinge of sadness as she sat up right and brushed the hair neatly from her face. Perhaps she would recognise her own pretty smile in their children and at last learn to love it.
"I can't wait to marry you…"
"Em, you're deflecting"
"No, I… I've never felt so much… it's just that yesterday when you told me that story, it's just… I never imagined you…"
"I'm sorry"
"I set a date once", she said, pausing her movement. "When you and Terri were pregnant-"
"We weren't-" he interjected but it was useless. For all intensive purpose except actuality, Will and Terri had begun a family all those years ago, it was whispered through every hall of McKinley.
"When we all thought there was a baby, that was really hard for me. I… had this fantasy in my head and … with a baby, your baby, it couldn't happen and my problems got really bad Will". He stared, tightened his grip on her leg as if rescuing it from the ache of her words.
Emma coughed even though there was nothing in her throat. "I uh, I… I mean I wasn't in therapy then and I can see now that my coping skills were not so great, but I had some pills… Will, and I had a date set and if nothing got better I was going to…"
"Stop it Emma" he cracked. His hands felt clammy on her skin.
"You wanted me to talk" Emma countered.
"Not like this"
"…It's not nice to hear is it? I love you… so much, and to think that you would…" she pondered as she spoke, wondering if her words sounded threatening when she was trying to be casual for the first time in five days.
"But that was my fault!". The life of his faux baby, the death of his forbidden love.
"Hey, no! I was sick. Just like David and because of you and the help you gave me, I got better… and luckily, Dave is going to get better too. But I'm going to marry you and we're going to raise a family, and you're right, we do need to talk about these things…"
The air on her legs was crisp and they froze.
Eventually she rose to sit beside him and held her breath. She knew it too. Yes, as he took her hand in his she knew there was no magic fix. They had fallen in love in a whirlwind of longing glances and sweeping kisses that made Will feel like he would walk on water. Fooled him into believing that together they could take on the world.
Her head fell to his shoulder and drifted like a slow cloud down his bicep until she could feel the rhythm of his breathing.
He wanted to promise her that everything would be fine. That Quinn would wake up. That every student would take their problems to the colourful serenity of her office instead of swallowing a gun.
She wanted to assure him that their children would be protected from all the uncertainty and darkness that plagued both of them.
"It just doesn't make sense sometimes", Will offered almost shocked as a little tear rolled defiantly down his face.
He felt her kiss on his neck, an agreement.
They stayed like that for an hour. And one week later they held hands and delivered Pizza to Quinn's hospital room, because Puck refused to leave her side.
When they got married that summer the rain made Emma's hair curl and her parent's brought their own food and left just as the music started.
11 months later the New Directions were coached to a National Championship, the first of three consecutive wins.
1123 was both the date and the number posted on the door when Jack was born, screaming so loudly is drowned out everyone else wonder.
They spent that Christmas at the Hummel's and afterwards Will ate pudding out of a napkin and watched his wife cover their son with her cardigan as she fed him.
"Tired?" he says already know the answer, the circles under her eyes defy make up.
"Happy?" she asks with a smile beaming already for him. Her husband watches on, she can tell he's not going to be satisfied with watching for much longer, he longs to be able to touch her again. "Oh God, Baby, I just want to get you pregnant…over and over…" he used to say in heated moments when he was possessed by lust and desire.
But for now he will watch her and leave the future for another day.