A/N: Thanks so much to The Duchessina for reading over this for me. Happy New Years to everyone!
Upon entering Emma's apartment, Will slammed the door a little harder than he had meant to.
"Is everything alright, Will?" Emma's voice was laced with concern. She was in the kitchen, getting ready to prepare dinner. She wiped her hands on a fresh dish towel and then approached Will. She longed to reach out to embrace him, but Emma was never very good at initiating things, especially when it came to physical contact.
"Just had a long day," he answered. She hoped that he would take a moment to hold her in his arms, but Will was too distracted as he collapsed down at the kitchen table, pulling out a folder of ungraded Spanish tests.
Emma went back into the kitchen, grabbing a can of mandarin oranges off the cabinet shelf for the salad she planned to make. "Do you want to talk about it?" She watched Will as she went to pull out a bowl for the salad.
Will sighed heavily. "Well, the new Cheerio coach started today, and he has tryouts planned for Thursday afternoon, so I'm going to have to put a word in with Figgins tomorrow."
"Wait, did you just say he?" Emma questioned, pulling a bag of prewashed spinach leaves out of the refrigerator. She opened the bag and began to rewash each piece thoroughly.
"Yeah, Bill McNavage is as male as you can get. Frankly, I'm already frightened of him—you should see those guns. I just hope that he's more understanding about Glee than Sue was…"
"I'm sure he will be," Emma answered, placing the washed spinach leaves carefully into the bowl. "I mean, it's pretty hard to be any worse than Sue. I'm sure he just isn't aware of the Glee club, and he'll probably change the tryout date if you just ask."
Will smiled at Emma, her confidence boosting his. She returned the smile, glad to see that he was cheering up.
"Oh, and the kids know we're living together," Will added on a side note, watching Emma out of the corner of his eye.
"How?" Emma felt her cheeks color hotly. Though she was by no means embarrassed to be living with Will, the situation could be taken in a lot of different ways, and if the kids knew, she was frightened that Ken would soon discover the living arrangements as well.
"Rachel," Will told her. "She's just so goddamn nosey."
"Well," Emma muttered, pulling a manual can opener out of one of the kitchen drawers, "I suppose it was inevitable that someone would find out eventually."
Will nodded, glancing up at Emma. "Oh, the kids miss you. I told them I'd tell you they say hi."
Emma smiled genuinely, realizing how much she missed them too. "Tell them the same from me."
"I'll let them know," he promised. "Really, it just isn't the same without you. Lilah's just so…the opposite everything a guidance counselor should be…She did join me at lunch today, though."
At the mention of Lilah's name, a surge of jealously filled Emma. She jammed the can opener into the can of mandarin oranges a little more violently than she meant. "Oh really?"
At once Will regretted bringing Lilah up. Though he found it entertaining that Emma was so jealous, he also found it slightly annoying that she was so insecure. "All the kids hate her," he added, hoping that Emma would let his slipup go.
Emma didn't answer for a moment. The can opener caught on side of the can, causing her finger to slip. "Well, I think—" She stopped mid sentence, pulling her finger abruptly away from the jagged can. "Ow," she mumbled, taking a look at her injured finger. She paled as she saw the deep red blood seep slowly from the wound, an oozing droplet falling from the tiny cut and landing on her immaculate kitchen floor with a small splatter.
Will immediately stood from the table, hurrying to her side, unsure of how he should aid her. "Em—"
He was cut off as Emma abruptly turned, gripping the sides of the kitchen sink.
"Emma," Will tried again. "Is everything al—"
His words were cut short as Emma ducked her head, violently vomiting into the kitchen sink. She stared in horror at the mess she had created, swaying slightly as her face grew paler.
"Emma!" Will grabbed her elbow just in time. Her knees gave out, and Will caught her limp form with his outstretched arms. He hoisted her small body up into his arms, surprised by how light she was. He carried her down the hallway to her bedroom, pushing open the door gently with his back.
Will had not yet seen Emma's bedroom—he had never had a reason to go in until now. Everything was blue—that was the first think he noticed. Pale blue walls, periwinkle comforter, artwork done in different hues of blue. And of course, not a single item was out of place. It hardly looked lived in.
Will gently placed Emma's form onto the surface of the bed, brushing her ginger locks softly away from her face he waited for her to regain consciousness. A moment later, her eyelids fluttered open.
"Will," she moaned, her hands flying to her stomach. She pulled her body up from the bed, her breathing catching heavily in her throat. She tightly clutched her stomach.
"Emma, are you going to be sick again? I can help you to the bath—"
"No, no, no." She vehemently shook her head back and forth, her eyes blazing with terror. She sat herself up completely, gasping for air as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly.
"Emma." Will's voice was lined with concern. He carefully took one of her hands in his own. "Calm down. If you're going to be sick again, it will be okay. Don't fight it."
But Emma had already balled her hands into tight fists as she forced herself to take deep breaths. "I'm fine," she mumbled through gritted teeth. "I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Will asked, watching as Emma fought with her nausea.
Emma nodded, her eyes still tightly shut. "I need—I need to go shower, and I need to wash—"
"Emma," Will cut her off. "Right now, you need to lie down."
"No," Emma moaned. "And the kitchen…the sink…" She trailed off as her stomach churned. Her hand flew to her mouth.
"Emma," Will tried to reason with her. "Let me help you to the bathroom. You'll feel so much better…"
"No," Emma sobbed, feeling the bile rise in her throat. "Please no. Please. Oh god—"
She abruptly rose from the bed, dashing to the bathroom down the hall. Will followed closely behind, watching her fall to her knees at she threw open the toilet lid. He knelt beside her, pulling her flaming hair out of her face as she emptied the contents of her stomach. When she finished, she hastily flushed the toilet, crumpling weakly to the bathroom floor.
Will pulled a small Dixie cup out of the medicine cabinet, filling it with cold water. He helped Emma to her feet, making sure not to loosen his grip on her waist as he led her to the sink lest she pass out again.
"Here." He handed her the cup of water. "Rinse out your mouth out."
She nodded, swishing the cool water in her mouth. She grimaced at the foul taste as she spit it back into the sink.
"Mouthwash," she managed to mutter. Her head throbbed, and she rubbed her temples in vain. "And some aspirin."
Will nodded, pulling out a bottle of spearmint mouthwash from the cabinet. He watched as she rinsed and repeated five times before her knees began to tremble.
"Emma," he whispered. "Let it go."
And much to his surprise, she nodded. He pulled out the bottle of aspirin, pouring two pills into her outstretched hand. "Are you sure you can handle swallowing?"
She nodded, taking a dainty sip of water as she downed the two pills.
"Oh, Em, while we're here, let me take a look at your finger."
Emma stiffened as she remembered her cut. She squeezed her eyes closed as she thrust her injured finger toward Will. The cut wasn't too bad at all. A layer of dried blood covered the skin, but Will could tell that the small cut had already begun to heal. He pulled a bottle of rubbing alcohol out of the medicine cabinet and poured the solution onto a cotton ball.
"This is going to sting a bit," Will warned. Emma, who still had her eyes tightly shut, tensed even more. Will gave her hand a gently squeeze. "Ready?"
She nodded.
Will gently dabbed the cut until there was no trace of blood. Just as he had expected, the cut was not bad at all. It barely even looked worse than a paper cut. When he finished cleaning, he brought her finger near his lips, blowing on the wound gently. He found a small band aid and neatly wrapped it around her finger.
"All better," he whispered, kissing her bandaged finger lightly.
"Thanks, Will," she murmured, inspecting her finger. She felt considerably better now that it was covered.
"You're very welcome," he answered, brushing his lips against her temple.
"I need to shower…" Emma murmured, feeling Will's arms slide around her waist. She leant into his embrace, the musky scent of his cologne calming her.
"The shower can wait, Emma," Will muttered, his lips brushing her hair. "You need to lie down right now."
She allowed him to lead her down the hallway back into her room. As she fell back against the pillows, her teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. Will draped the afghan that rested at the bottom of the bed over her shivering body.
"Will you stay?" The words escaped Emma's mouth in a hushed flutter. She was so exhausted that she could hardly form the words.
"I'm not going anywhere," he promised, kicking off his shoes and lying down next to her. He took her small hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Emma smiled weakly, fighting to keep her eyes open. Will's free hand strayed to her face as he gently brushed her hair back. "Relax, Emma," he muttered, watching her eyes slowly droop. He continued to stroke her hair until her chest began to rise and fall slowly.
Despite his promise, Will gently pulled his fingers free from Emma's, and he rose from the bed as quietly as he could. Emma only stirred slightly.
He entered the kitchen, gagging slightly from the putrid scent of the vomit. He quickly rinsed out the sink, then pulled out a container of Comet from under the sink. He scrubbed the sink thoroughly three separate times, even though he knew that Emma would insist on redoing it herself once she woke.
He pulled a Clorox wipe from the container to wipe up the small blood stain from the floor. He threw away the can of mandarin oranges, and he carefully covered the bowl of salad with plastic wrap and placed it into the fridge.
It was impossible to tell, at least to Will, that the kitchen had been in a state of disaster just minutes before.
Pleased with his work, he entered her bedroom. He slipped back onto bed next to Emma's sleeping form. He watched her sleep peacefully, her red hair spilling out around, her perfect face content in slumber.
And as Will gently took her limp hand in his own, he wondered how he had survived this long without her.
***
Emma woke to find Will's perfect face resting on the pillow beside her. She smiled, and Will couldn't help but to grin back at her. He loved it when she really smiled—her whole face lit up and her big brown eyes seemed to grow even larger.
He squeezed her hand softly. "You're beautiful."
Emma's stomach flipped as he said the words. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "I'm a mess."
"A beautiful mess," he contradicted, cupping her chin gently in his hand.
Emma hoisted herself up to a sitting position, feeling much better than before. She took in a deep breath and was relieved to discover that any trace of nausea had passed.
"So you get sick when you see blood?" Will clarified as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
"Pretty much," Emma mumbled, closing her eyes. Her head fell against Will's shoulder, and he gladly snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.
"I really do need to shower now," she murmured into his neck.
He nodded but made no move to release her.
"And I need to clean the kitchen…" she trailed off, trying not to think about the unbearable mess.
"Already done," Will told her proudly.
Emma pulled away from him, surprised. "You cleaned the kitchen?"
He nodded. "It was the least I could do—and you were out like a rock. I know you'll probably want to redo some parts of it, but at least you don't have to start with a mess."
"Gosh, thanks so much, Will," Emma told her, and he knew that she was genuinely thankful.
Finally, she stood, brushing her hair out of her face."I really do need to shower now. And then I have to clean the bathroom, and then—"
"Emma," Will cut her off. "One step at a time. Go take a shower, and then we'll decide what to next."
Emma nodded, liking the sound of "we." She headed out to the hall, grabbing a fresh towel from the linen closet before entering the bathroom. Before closing the door, she turned to see Will standing at the opposite end of the hall.
"I could be a while," she warned him.
"Take your time," he told her. "Do you want me to make you anything to eat?" he offered.
Emma stomach churned at just the mere thought of food. "No thanks, but feel free to find yourself something. I know you must be ravenous."
He nodded, disappearing around the corner into the kitchen.
Emma stood in the hallway a moment longer before turning to go into the bathroom. And as she slipped out of her clothes and into the scalding heat of the shower, she smiled.