Sounds of Settling
Will gently nudged the door to his office open and watched as it swung back and knocked against the wall. It had become an everyday occurrence and he took comfort in watching the mark on the wall slowly evolve into a dent. He waited for the day when the doorknob broke right through the plaster.
He dropped his bag on his desk and flopped into the leather swivel chair. Taking a red pen, he crossed one more day off the calendar hanging on his wall. Emma had asked for time, which he was more than willing to give. After all, he was still a married man. Sure, divorce proceedings had commenced and wedding rings had been removed, but the word still applied and what a weighty word it was.
She had also mentioned ever so gently that he ought to take time to "deal with things." Will hadn't been sure what things other than the failure of his marriage she was referring to, but he decided to take her advice to heart. She was a guidance counselor after all.
She had stayed. She had told him she would wait for him. And to Will, that was all that mattered.
He looked down at the calendar, staring at the red ink that sliced through a monotonous Monday. One day down. He didn't know how many more to go. So he continued to wait, like she had asked.
And he continued to "deal with things," in the best way he knew how…
XXXXXXXXXXXX
"From the top."
"Mr. Schue?"
"Five, six, seven, eight…"
"Mr. Schue?" The sound of the piano faded out as Rachel moved forward out of formation.
Will placed his hands on his hips and sighed. "Yes, Rachel?"
"This isn't working."
"Well, it's day one. Give it time and you'll get the hang of it."
"No, not the routine." She turned around and looked at her fellow glee-clubbers, as if asking for support. Some even nodded in encouragement. Will frowned.
"What's going on?"
"It's not the routine, it's you."
He crossed his arms over his chest. "Excuse me?"
"You've been distracted and not yourself and honestly, Mr. Schue, if we're going to take Regionals, we need a leader worth his mettle. We know it's been a rough couple of weeks – "
"Rachel…"
She plowed on undeterred. "And frankly we think you should - "
"Rachel…" He just wanted it stop.
"…take some time for yourself…"
To please make it stop.
"… and we thought - "
"Stop!" His voice echoed with the excellent acoustics and the rehearsal room fell deathly silent.
Will listened to the sound of his own labored breathing. He hadn't even realized he had gotten so worked up. Something wasn't right.
"Just stop, guys. Please. I'm fine." Really. "You're right, Rach, it has been a rough couple of weeks, but frankly my personal life is not your business. Now…" he turned and shuffled some sheet music as an excuse to escape their calculating glances. "Let's try this again."
"Mr. Schue, if we could just - "
"Rachel," he snapped, spinning around so quickly, he effectively cut off all argument from her. "From the top."
Rachel backed up into formation once again, retreating like a scolded puppy. "Sure thing, Mr. Schue."
Will sighed and glanced around at their faces. Most stared at the floor, some picked at their nails, none looked at him.
"You know what, let's call it a day."
For once, no one argued as they shuffled to their bags and made their way out of the door.
When the ears of nosy adolescents were a safe distance away, Brad asked him if he feeling all right.
And Will repeated the words he had grown so accustomed to saying. "I'm fine."
It was habit.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Will sat at his desk and crossed off another day. He decided that tomorrow he'd switch to blue pen. Red seemed so… violent. As he contemplated whether he should continue ticking off the days at all, a knock at the door broke him from his train of thought.
Emma stood in the doorway, twisting her bracelet around her wrist and shifting her weight from foot to foot.
"Emma?" Will sat up straighter and attempted to make his desk seem less cluttered.
"Hi, Will." She cautiously stepped further into the room, but did not sit down. It pained him to know that, three weeks ago, she would have waltzed in and chatted him up about latest scandal to befall McKinley High.
But something between them broke in the hallway that day and they both knew that neither would be able to fix it until they could come together once again, until they were ready.
He cleared his throat when he realized he hadn't actually said anything yet. "What's up?"
"Rachel came to see me today."
"Oh."
"Yes." Emma gave him a knowing look and smoothed the pleats down on her pastel skirt. "Wanna talk about it?"
He gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Nothing to talk about."
Her eyes told Will that was not the answer she wanted to hear. She nodded all the same, though, and didn't argue.
"Well, you know where I am when… you find something to talk about."
"I know." He managed a genuine smile for her, which she returned in kind before she walked out his door.
Will stared after her retreating form before returning his eyes to the calendar again. The stupid slash marks were mocking him. How long would they go through this? She loved him, of that he was sure. He loved her, of that he had no doubt.
She wanted him to "deal with things," to figured something out. But how could he deal with things unknown?
That day in the hallway, he told her he was ready. She tapped his wedding ring and told him he wasn't.
The day he filed for divorce, he told her he was ready. Until she saw his signature on the dotted line, she told him he wasn't.
The day he signed the papers, he told her he was ready. She placed her hand over his heart, and told him he wasn't.
Will didn't know how much time had passed since he started staring at the calendar but the weeks were blurring together and he was beginning to hate the month of January.
"Mr. Schue?"
Will jumped in his seat and turned to look at Finn filling his doorway.
"Sorry." The tall student shifted his backpack over his shoulder. "Didn't mean to scare you."
"You startled me, that's all." Will gestured to the seat across from his desk. "What's up?"
"Nothing. You seemed a bit out of it in glee. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Will leaned back in his chair and rubbed his fingertips against his temples. "I'm fine."
"So I've heard. Look, no offense, Mr. Schue, but you seem a bit tightly wound. Like those plastic teeth you get from the dentist that chatter across the desk if you wind them up enough."
Will stared at him blankly. Never before had he been compared to a novelty toy.
"I mean, you barely glanced up yesterday when Brittany made out with Santana after Kurt told them to 'prove it."
"What? Prove what?"
"See, that's what I'm talking about. You're out of it, Mr. Schue. Everyone knows it."
"Well, it's not easy to plan set lists when you and Quinn won't sing together and you and Puck can't stand within ten feet of each other without sending one if not both of you to the nurse's office. I'm sorry, but it's a bitch to choreograph."
Finn slouched down further in the seat, looking slightly ashamed. "It's more than that, Mr. Schue. I know people say I'm not the brightest crayon in the shed but I'd like to think I know you a little bit better than the others."
"Box."
"What?"
"Brightest crayon in the box. Tools go in sheds, crayons go in boxes. Nevermind."
Finn's verbal clumsiness brought a smile to Will's lips. Finn had a point, though, no matter how many metaphors he screwed up to make it. Will closed his eyes again and placed his elbows on the desk as Finn continued on.
"You've always been there for me when I needed help. I guess I just wanted to return the favor."
Will smiled. He had always seen himself in Finn from his hurt to his talent, from his fear to his anger, and from his obtuseness to his compassion.
"Thank you, Finn. I do appreciate it. But I'm fi - " He stopped himself, sighing. There really was no point. "How are you?"
"Okay. Not great. I'm sorry we haven't been making it easy for you. You know, me and… them."
Quinn and Puck's names went by unsaid.
"It's no problem, Finn. You don't have to apologize for anything." Will watched as Finn played with the zipper on his backpack. "It's getting late, do you need a ride?"
"She's still living with us." Finn's gaze remained locked on the tiny piece of metal, which he flicked back and forth. "So I'm in no rush to go home."
Will sat back in his chair, dumbfounded. "Quinn's still living with you?"
"Well, where else would she go? She can't go home. And no one else will take her in."
"Not even Puck?"
"She doesn't want to stay with him. She couldn't even if she did. His mom's apparently freaking out that he knocked up the founder of the Christ Crusaders." Finn laughed for a moment before he broke into sobs. "I'm sorry, that's not funny." He continued to laugh and sob in equal measure and Will felt his heart break.
He stood from his chair and walked around the desk, hesitating for the briefest of moments before placing a hand on Finn's shaking back. He eventually crouched down in front of his distraught student as Finn let his head drop onto Will's shoulder.
There were so many things he could have said to him, so many things he wanted to say. It's gonna be okay. I know how you feel. This too shall pass. But Will didn't know if he would be saying them for Finn's sake or for his own. Will patiently waited until Finn quieted down before pulling him to his feet and making sure he was steady.
"Come on."
Finn sniffled and clumsily rubbed a hand across his face. "Come where?"
"Well I don't like going home alone and you don't like going home at all, so I suggest we order pizza."
"Pizza?" Finn's look of puzzlement was firmly rooted in place.
"It's either pizza or leftover Chinese. I'm not the greatest chef in the world." Will smiled as he slung his bag over his shoulder.
Finn gave him a dazed nod and followed him out of the office. "Pizza's good."
XXXXXXXXXXX
Will trudged up the stairs to his apartment, listening to Finn's heavy footsteps behind him. As he fitted the key into the lock, Finn cleared his throat.
"Thanks for doing this, Mr. Schue. When you deal with kids all day, I doubt you want to bring your work home with you."
"It's no problem, Finn." Will dropped his bag next to the door and threw his house keys on the side table. "Call your Mom." Will tossed him the phone. "Tell her you won't be home for dinner. I don't want her to worry."
Finn caught the phone and began dialing. Will wandered into the kitchen and pulled the pizza menu out of the drawer, vaguely listening to Finn explain to his mother that he was eating at Mr. Schue's. After a few minutes, Finn wandered into the kitchen.
"Everything all right?"
Finn nodded as he placed the phone on the counter. "Yeah. She gets it. You know, she tries to get me out of the house as much as possible. For my own sake, I guess. I've never been grocery shopping so often in my life."
Will laughed, yet sympathized. "I spent the first two weeks after my separation sleeping on the couch. I still can't move beyond my side of the bed."
A painful silence fell on the kitchen and Will watched Finn take a seat at the breakfast nook. He cleared his throat, hoping to ease the tension. "So, cheese? Sausage?"
"I've always been a pepperoni man myself."
"Pepperoni it is." Will picked up the phone and ordered the pizza, handing Finn a Coke from the fridge in the process.
As Will clicked the phone off, he sat across from his student. "You weren't in Spanish class on Monday. Or the Monday before."
"I had a note."
"I know, I read it." He popped open his own can of soda. "You wanna talk about it?"
"That's what the therapy sessions are for."
Will felt his jaw drop a bit. "Oh I didn't…. it just said 'doctor."
Finn took a long swig of his can. "Yeah, Mom thought it would be best if I talked to someone. Nothing fancy, just down at the community center."
Will nodded. He had been given similar advice. He was told to "open up and let go of his feelings," but he wasn't quite sure what he was feeling to begin with. "Is it helping?"
Finn was silent for a long moment before replying. "Yeah, it is. It still hurts, but I'm not as angry anymore. In fact, I'm… kinda flattered, you know? I mean it's a twisted way to think about it, but Quinn chose me. Knowing it wasn't mine, she still picked me. She thought I'd be a good dad. And that makes me sort of happy." Finn inhaled and let his gaze drift up from the table to Will. "I guess Mrs. Schue thought you'd be a good dad, too."
Will tightened his grip on the can of soda in front of him and nodded, but said nothing. He didn't trust his voice to come out steady.
"Sometimes I see her there. Your wife."
Will looked up at that. "Ex. Well, almost."
"Oh. I knew you separated but - "
Will shrugged. "It's not the type of thing you announce. I guess you'll be out of Spanish next Monday as well.
Finn nodded. "I'll get Rachel to bring my homework over."
"If you need extra sessions, I'm more than happy to meet with you." Will smiled at him over the can. "I'm glad the help's helping."
"Yeah, me too."
They spent the next twenty minutes talking about the upcoming basketball season, the glory of Sectionals, and the hard road to Regionals. The doorbell rang, halting their debate on which Manning was the better football player.
Will returned to the kitchen carrying a large pizza box and threw some napkins down in front of Finn.
"This is nice. I can't really talk football with my Mom. She doesn't even know what a field goal is. She thinks you're supposed to kick it under the posts, and I keep telling that's soccer."
Will laughed as he picked up his slice of pepperoni and began nibbling on it crust-first.
"You eat your pizza backwards?"
Will looked up to find Finn holding his pizza crust-first as well.
Will shrugged. "My Dad ate it like this. I guess it stuck."
"So did mine. Or so I was told." Finn gave Will a tight smile and bit into his crust.
Will's heart broke as he watched the young man in front of him. Sure, Will's Dad liked his drink, and sometimes got into fights with his Mom while playing with matches, but he still had someone to send a card to on Father's Day. He still had someone who played catch with him, and taught him how to tie a tie, and how to respect girls. Finn didn't have a father. And Will didn't have a son.
"I've always found that pizza tastes better this way."
Finn smiled at him. "Me too."
XXXXXXXXXX
The nice thing about Monday was that it flew by. The unfortunate thing was that Tuesday made up for it in spades.
Will rubbed his temples as he sat in the front of his classroom, intermittently looking up to make sure his students kept their eyes on their own papers. Rachel caught his eye at one point and smiled. He did his best to return it.
When school was over, he stayed behind to get a jumpstart on grading. After all, there wasn't much point to going home. Not anymore, anyways. All that waited to greet him was a dark apartment, West Wing reruns, and cold pizza.
He wandered down the empty hallway, throwing a slight wave to Emma as he passed her office. He desperately wanted to stop walking, to turn around and stand in her doorway. But he waited. Just like he was told to.
And as he sat on his couch later that night with nothing but cold pizza to keep him company, he regretted that decision.
His phone buzzed loudly against the coffee table and he dropped his half-eaten dinner back into the box. Will frowned in confusion as Finn's name flashed across the screen. He had given his number to the students before their first invitational, just in case the kids should ever need it. He didn't actually expect any of them would use it, though.
"Finn?"
"Mr. Schue?" Finn's voice sounded distant and Will could distinctly hear a slur.
"Finn, are you all right?"
"I'm fine." Finn fell silent almost as if forgetting why he called.
Will sat up already putting his shoes on. "Finn, where are you?"
There was a pause, "Mr. Schue, do you know where the gas station is by the park?"
"Is that where you are?"
"I'm in the parking lot…. In the gas station by the park."
"I'm on my way, don't move." Will already had one arm through his jacket sleeve as he hung up the phone and threw it in his pocket. A million thoughts race through his head as he gripped the steering wheel and it took a little more concentration on his part to not drive past the station all together. He pulled up next to Finn's beat up car and threw the gear in "park." He was out the door and around the car before Finn even unbuckled his seat beat.
Will leaned against the driver's side door and examined his student. Finn's cheek had a nasty welt and purple bruises were showing the first signs of bloom toward his eye. Will sighed. "Are you all right?"
Finn nodded and stared straight ahead. Will watched as his student absentmindedly rubbed his fingers over the bloody knuckles on his right hand. Will grabbed Finn's chin as gently as he could and turned it so he could get a better look at his rapidly swelling eye.
"What happened?"
"Quinn and I had a fight. I drove to the park to blow off some steam. Puck was there. We exchanged some words."
Will gestured to Finn's knuckles. "Must've been quite a conversation."
Finn exhaled loudly and Will recoiled from the smell.
"Who the hell let you buy alcohol?"
Finn shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm tall for my age."
"Your height is no excuse," Will said as he reached in and yanked the keys from the ignition. "Let's go."
Finn stumbled from the car and followed Will to his. "Where are we going?"
"You're going home. Get in." Will held the passenger side door open and Finn clambered in. "I'll be right back."
Will disappeared into the store, only to return minutes later with a plastic bag. He tossed a bag of frozen peas at Finn. "For your face." He tossed a bag of frozen corn at him. "For your hand." And he followed it up with a bottle of water. "Drink it."
They drove in silence to Finn's house and as Will pulled into the driveway, he saw Quinn disappear from an upstairs window.
"I don't want to face my mom." Finn leaned his head into the bag of peas.
Will sighed. "We don't have to go in yet. Drink your water."
"Thanks, Mr. Schue. You have no idea how much everything you do means to me."
"It's my job, Finn."
"No, it's not." Finn shook his head adamantly. "Not all teachers would pick up their drunk underage students in the middle of the night."
Will felt a smile tug at his lips. Finn was probably right. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"
Finn shook his head. "You know all of my baggage." And for his lack of sobriety, Finn still managed to steadily meet Will's gaze. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"
Will was taken aback by the question. "What do you mean?"
Finn scoffed. "Come on, Mr. Schue. You're getting a divorce. You're miserable. And we all see the way you and Miss Pillsbury look at each other."
Will should have reminded Finn of his place, that he was a student talking to a teacher, but in these moments, Will felt the generic labels fall away. Plus he attributed his student's boldness to the alcohol running through his veins.
"My relationship with miss Pillsbury is not your business." Will patted Finn on the back and gave him a smile. "But I appreciate your concern."
Finn stared at the gearshift in the middle of the car. "I never learned how to drive stick."
Will was surprised by the abrupt turn in conversation. "No?"
Finn shook his head. "My dad had a jeep. It was stick. But mom sold it after he, you know. So no, I never learned."
"I'll teach you." Will looked up into Finn's surprised gaze. "It's not that hard when you get the hang of it. Now come on, your mom's gonna wonder why we're just sitting in your driveway."
Finn flexed his battered hand groaned. "Crap. I'm a dead man."
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Will avoided Emma's gaze during lunch. As much as he wanted to talk about the episode with Finn the previous night, he had no desire for awkward conversation. And that is what their conversations had become: awkward. He hated himself for not being able to be the person she needed, because in his failure, he lost the one thing that got him through the day: her.
"Will?"
He jumped from his spot in the teachers lounge. School was over. He thought he was alone. "Hi, Em."
He saw her face flush at his nickname. Try as he might, it was one habit he couldn't break.
"Will, would mind coming to my office for a second?"
He followed her past the spotless windows and took a seat in the soft chair opposite her desk.
"What's up?"
Emma smoothed the back of her skirt down as she took a seat and Purelled her hands. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Why wouldn't I be okay?" He had been more irritable lately and it didn't take much to set him off. Oddly enough, the only person he felt comfortable with was Finn, and that was probably because Finn could most closely relate to how Will truly felt when he wasn't covering up his emotions with false smiles.
"Will, a lot's happened - "
"I know it has."
She looked like a wounded puppy when he cut her off, but she continued on.
"Will, don't snap at me. It's my job to check up on the students and faculty."
He felt as if he had been punched in the gut. "When did I become a job?"
"You know that's not what I - "
"Then what did you mean, Emma?" He stood up from the chair and paced the room. "What do you want from me? You told me to back off, so I backed off. You told me to wait, so I'm waiting. But I can't deal with whatever it is that you want me to deal with. I can't…" he inhaled sharply. "I need…" your help.
"What do you need?" Her question was quiet.
He shook his head. What did it matter now anyway? "Nothing."
And it was as if she read his mind. "I can't fix you, Will."
He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out. "Yes you can." He opened them again and slowly reached out for her hand. "You can fix me."
Her eyes flicked between his outstretched hand and his face. "No, I can't. Not yet."
Will let his hand drop to his side, turned quietly, and left the room.
"Will, wait!"
His footsteps never faltered as they carried him away from her voice. She had once been his safe harbor and now she was his storm.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He roughly flipped it open and barked, "What?"
"Will Schuester?"
"Speaking." He sighed and turned as he heard Emma catching up to him. She stood across from him and they stared at each other as he pressed the phone to his ear.
"My name is Claire, I'm a nurse at St. Rita's Medical Center. I have a patient here by the name of Finn Hudson."
Will straightened up and stared wide-eyed at Emma. "Is he all right?"
"He's fine, just a broken arm. He's refusing to let us call his mom. He did, however, ask us to call you."
"I'll be there in ten minutes."
Will hung up the phone and patted down his pockets, looking for his car keys.
"Will, what's going on?"
"Finn's in the hospital. Broken arm. Where the hell are my keys?!" Will's sentences flew out of his mouth in a barely coherent, jumbled rush.
"Will, stop. I'll drive." Emma placed her hand on Will's arm, calming him. He looked up into her brown eyes and felt his body relax, despite his better judgement.
He let her gently tug him out of the office and into her parked car. His knee bounced up and down on the floor and he drummed his fingers against the armrest. Again, Emma reached over and placed her hand on his knee, stilling it.
"It's just a broken arm, Will. He'll be all right."
Will nodded and stared at the trees as they passed. Emma squeezed his knee a little harder and he couldn't help but smile at the contact.
She pulled into the hospital lot and barely got the chance to put the car in park before Will opened the door and jogged over to the ER entrance.
"Will! Wait!"
He paused just long enough for her to catch up, before attempting to bolt up to the front desk but Emma's firm grip on his arm held him back. He turned around to find her rooted to her spot, unmoving.
"What's wrong?"
Her large eyes darted around. "I, um, I don't like hospitals."
Despite his frustration with her, with himself, and with the world in general, his heart hadn't hardened enough to not break at the fear in her voice.
"You're with me. It's okay." He gave her a smile and gently tugged her towards him as they made their way up to the front desk. "Hi, I'm Will Schuester. I'm here for Finn Hudson."
"Just a moment." The nurse behind the counter nodded and motioned to a colleague down the hall. Claire introduced herself and began leading them towards his room.
"Are you related to him?"
"I'm his teacher. Is there an issue? Insurance or something?"
The nurse shook her head. "He has all of his information, but he refuses to let us set his arm until we promise not to call his mother. Frankly, Mr. Schuester, we just need someone to take him home when it's done. He was brought here by ambulance. And we need to set his arm immediately."
Will nodded as they came to a stop outside a door. "I'll talk to him."
Emma gave his hand a squeeze as she eyed the instruments and stretchers that were most likely teeming with germs. "I'll be out here."
Will pushed the door open to find Finn sitting on the bed, cradling his arm to his chest, sweat beading down his face. He looked more like a little boy waiting to be scolded than a star quarterback.
"Finn."
"Hey, Mr. Schue. Sorry to interrupt your day."
"I don't care about my day, what the hell happened? I saw you two hours ago!" Will moved closer but didn't dare touch him.
"I slipped on some ice. My arm broke the fall."
"And the fall broke your arm."
"Yeah." Finn laughed and then winced.
Will sat down in the chair next to the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. "Finn, why won't you let them set it?"
The boy looked stricken for a moment. "I don't want them calling my Mom."
Finn's fear touched Will and he had to stifle the urge to hug him or squeeze his arm, or at least give him a simple pat on the back. "Why?"
"She's at work and she can't leave. And if she does, I'm afraid they'll fire her and honestly, Mr. Schue, my mom needs that job. There's no point in making her worry if there's nothing she can do about it." Finn winced again as he shifted on the bed.
"I'll make sure they don't call her. Just, for the love of god, let them set your arm. I'm in pain just looking at you."
Finn smiled. "Do you mind giving me a ride home?"
"Not at all."
Will turned to call the nurse into the room, but Finn's voice stopped him. "Hey, Mr. Schue? Thanks for coming. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but you're the first person I thought to call."
Will felt his throat tighten. "I'm glad you did."
Will hadn't been anyone's emergency contact in a while. He forgot what it was like to be needed. Even Teri placed Kendra above him on the list. He wandered into the hallway and saw Emma sitting stock still on a plastic waiting room chair, one that she had no doubt doused in sanitizer before she sat down. He briefly wondered who her emergency contact was.
She smiled as he approached. "The nice thing about hospitals is that they provide their own Clorox wipes." She bit her lip. "Is Finn all right?"
"Once they set his arm, he will be." Will rubbed his forehead and watched as a young man ushered his heavily pregnant wife through the ER doors.
"Can someone help me? My wife's in labor."
Will watched as a nurse sat the soon-to-be mom in a wheelchair and whisked her off to maternity.
"Will?"
"Hm?" He felt Emma's hand on his arm, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.
"Will."
He finally looked at her and he knew she understood. She saw the pain in his eyes and in the lines that creased his face. He was an open book to her. All she had to do was read.
"I'm fine."
And there it was again, his mantra. It was becoming that which defined him, and Will knew that, though he was many things, fine was not one of them.
XXXXXXXXX
His blissful weekend of total laziness was broken by a knock on the door. Will pushed himself up from the couch and muted the game, placing the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.
The knocking became more insistent as Will padded through the hallway. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"
He swung the door open to reveal Finn, panting and attempting to fan the sweat away from his face.
"Do you have a tie I could borrow?"
Will stared at him, raising an eyebrow. "What?"
"I have a date with Rachel in 30 minutes and I don't have a tie."
Will finally took in Finn's appearance and, sure enough, he was dressed in a nice suit, shirt hanging loosely over the thick cast on his left arm, and his top button hanging open, waiting for the piece of fabric which would secure it snug against his neck. Will vaguely thought blue would work best with his shirt, but that was not the first thought out of his mouth.
"You're dating Rachel?"
Finn's shoulders slumped in exasperation. "I'm not dating her. I just have a date. There's a difference."
"Whatever you say." Will smirked and stepped aside, allowing Finn into the apartment. "I thought Kurt was your fashion guru."
"He's great for advice but his tastes are a little too… flashy for me."
"Understandable. Stay here. I'll be just a minute." Will disappeared into the bedroom and rooted around his closet, trying to find the blue tie he thought of before. He emerged successful five minutes later, with the blue tie over one arm and a green over the other, just in case. What he saw in the living room stopped him cold.
Finn stood by the bookcase, holding a tiny pink onesie that said "Go Titans!" across the front.
"Where did you get that, Finn?"
Finn looked up into his teacher's eyes and Will saw his own hurt reflected there. "Why do you still have this, Mr. Schue?"
Will's arms dropped to his sides. "To be honest I forgot it was there."
"Did you?"
Will's heart began to drum a rapid tattoo against his chest. "Do you think I'm lying to you?"
Finn shook his head. "No, but with all due respect, Mr. Schue, I think you've gotten very good at pretending."
"Excuse me?" Will felt his hands clench into fists but not out of anger. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he knew that no amount of denial could prove Finn wrong.
Finn stood there looking slightly pale, as if struggling between whether or not he should say what he felt needed to be said and running like a bat out of hell through the front door. He went with the former.
"Sometimes it's easier to box things away and pretend they don't exist than actually face them."
Will wanted to tell Finn to leave it alone, to back down, but Finn seemed adamant. Will gripped the ties tighter. "Something you learned in therapy?"
"Yeah, actually."
Will threw the ties onto the couch. "I don't need help, Finn."
"Yes you do, Mr. Schue. You're boxing her away."
And with that, something inside Will snapped. "There is no 'her!"
Will's shout echoed across the empty apartment and Finn backed up a few steps. Will bent over and placed his hands on his knees, willing his emotions back under control.
Finn softly continued. "No, there isn't. But you thought there was. And you haven't dealt with that, yet."
"And how exactly do you suggest I deal with that?" The sarcasm rolled off his tongue, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
"You lost a baby."
Will felt as though the air in his lungs morphed into concrete. "What?"
"You lost a baby, Mr. Schue. We both did. And you deal with it in the same way that anybody deals with losing a loved one – you grieve."
A tear rolled down Will's cheek.
"You haven't grieved yet, Mr. Schue. Just because she never existed, doesn't mean you didn't love her. She was real to you." Finn took a small, cautious step toward his teacher. "You created this space in your heart for this living, breathing person and now that's all you have – empty space and a pink onesie. You can't just fill it up with anything. It's a hole. And it hurts. Trust me, I know."
Will finally let out the sob he had been holding in and sank down to the floor. Finn rested his hand on Will's back as the teacher shook. Will vaguely registered Finn pulling out his phone and telling Rachel he'd be late and he barely noticed when Finn picked up his own phone from the coffee table and started dialing numbers.
Will felt numb. Ever since that night, he felt like someone had thrown a rock right through his chest, but it never actually occurred to him to look into why he felt such a gaping wound. Deep down, he must have known. And that's why he kept it hidden away, kept her hidden away. He didn't clear out the stuffed animals or what few outfits they had purchased already because he didn't want to acknowledge that she was gone. As a remedy, he locked the craft room and stuffed the sonograms in the trash. And those small actions hurt him more than any man should hurt. So he armed himself with an "I'm fine" and kept on pretending.
Ten minutes later his front door opened and he heard footsteps make their way into the living room. He didn't dare look up.
"I've got it, Finn. You can go now." Emma handed Finn the blue tie and shooed him out the door. Her footsteps returned to the living room, but Will couldn't meet her eyes. His sobs had quieted but the tears still ran rivers down his face. She sat next to him on the floor, for once not mindful of the dirt she might find there, and gathered him into her arms.
"She's gone, Emma."
She gently rocked him back and forth. "I know."
His head was cradled in the crook of her elbow and his tears fell onto her sweater. "You knew. You knew I hadn't faced it yet."
He felt Emma nod.
"You told me I had to deal with things." He inhaled deeply. "But I don't know how to deal with this."
"One day at a time." She ran her hand through his hair and he let his eyes drift shut.
"I don't think I can."
"Of course you can. I'll be right there with you."
Silence fell over the pair as they sat on the hardwood. Will moved out of Emma's arms and leaned his back against the side of the couch.
"I was going to name her Katharine." He felt Emma place her soft hand on top of his.
"I know."
"How do I say goodbye to something I never had."
"You had her, Will. For a brief time, she was yours." Emma pulled his hand into her lap. "Those we love never really leave us."
Will picked up the onesie that had fallen on the ground. "I guess I should get rid of all this stuff, now."
Emma shook her head. "Don't get rid of it. You never know when you might need it again."
Will glanced up at Emma and saw his whole future in her eyes: wedding gowns and honeymoons, anniversaries and pregnancies. The name 'Katharine' would forever belong to his lost little girl, but perhaps a future daughter, with red hair of fiery curls, could wear the pink outfit he held in his hands and show her Titan pride.
Will felt Emma's head drop to his shoulder and he placed his on top of hers. "Do I still have to wait?"
Emma reached up and pulled his face down for a kiss. "Only if I can wait with you."