A/N: (This chapter has been edited.)
"Are you serious?" Emma asks, leaning forward in disbelief.
"The school board — observed every member of the faculty of this school and they deem that it isn't necessary to have a guidance counselor anymore since no one seems to drop by your office for counseling…except for William and his Glee kids."
"Oh that is absurd! Do you know how much my job actually means to me? How much I want to help not only the Glee Club but every single person in this school?" Her voice is painfully clipped and formal and Figgins gives her a look of sympathy. He knows how much she wants to help others despite not being able to help herself most of the time.
He was on her side, but he had no power over what was about to happen to Emma's career.
"Emma," Figgins begins to say, in a more casual tone. "this isn't permanent yet. They've given me a week to see this through. I can try to give a good word to the school board but I can't assure you that your name would be taken off the list."
"What should I do to keep my job? Should I give the students problems so that they would come to me?" Emma sighs frustratedly.
Figgins just stares at her, but he can't think of a word to say.
"I," Figgins is weighing his words carefully, she can tell. "I know you'll figure it out, Emma. You always do." He replies confidently and smiles at her.
Emma thanks him for his support and stands up to leave. Then, she sees Will and Sue talking in the receiving area and fakes a smile. Will eventually mouths "Is everything alright?" to her and she nods, proceeding to head back to her office.
Emma sat in her office, going over scheduling information and thinking of creating routine counseling sessions. A knock on her door, ever so quiet, pulls her from her thoughts. She entertains the thought of not bothering to acknowledge anyone who stands behind the door because at this moment, she would not be pleasurable company.
But there it is again, that soft, almost uncertain knock. Suddenly, an uneasy feeling settles in the pit of Emma's stomach, but before she's got any time to analyze the feeling, she has already unintentionally slammed the pen on her table and looked up from her paper. She sees Will with two cups of coffee in his slightly shaking hands, making an uncertain, timid impression.
She hasn't even let him yet, but he pushes the door with his side and enters her office.
"Now isn't a good time to talk, Will," Emma said, drifting her eyes back to the paper. "I'm busy. I'm…really busy."
"I heard about what happened; why Figgins called you. I just wanted to drop by and know if you're okay."
Her eyes glass over, voice trembling to a point where it nearly breaks. "Well, I'm not okay. I'm not okay at all. If you are about to get fired from the job that is keeping you together then you will not feel okay."
She notices that the cups of coffee are on a corner table now and he's just standing there, unmoving, only shuffling from one leg to the other, completely oblivious of the right things to be said.
"Damn it, Will. If you're just going to stand there, I'd rather have you leave than stare at me like that."
"Emma," Will starts, but obviously doesn't know how to continue, what to say. But that's alright, because she figures that she doesn't need him to talk, she just wants his presence there; it calms her down. He sits in his side of the table and Emma thinks he's about to tear up as well, but then he merely bends over the table, stretching out so he can get a hold of Emma's hands, dragging them back onto the table with his own.
"Why don't we look at the good side of this first? You can take a break from work…go to Hawaii…you always wanted to go there, right? Or you can focus on your relationship with Carl. You know, enjoy his company," he squeezed Emma's hands, his own eyes suddenly glassy yet voice firmly determined. "Everything's going to fall into the right place, Em."
"You don't know that," Emma utters desolately.
In fact, she was right; he didn't know. But he can hardly tell the woman currently breaking into pieces in front of him anything else.
They kept quiet for a moment, Will was trying to breathe through whatever his mind was guiding him to and she was on the verge of tears again.
"Maybe you can put up a sign that says, 'You can talk to me about anything'?" He says, then giving a small laugh.
"That is the craziest idea I have ever heard," Emma says petulantly. Will just shrugs.
"Sometimes, crazy works."