A/N: Thank you all so much for your support! Gahh it means so much to me. Let me know what you guys want to see: I have an idea of how the story will go but I'm completely stuck on "who did it," so if anyone has any suggestions, I'm all ears.

It also seems that I hadn't given all of the credit for Glee to Fox and Ryan Murphy, but that's where it goes. Because if I owned it, some different music would deffinitely have been implemented!

Reclining on a plastic chair, Emma nervously drummed her fingers against her stomach, looking towards Will for comfort. "You'll be fine, sweetheart," he said quietly, a smile on his face that made Emma relax into the chair. It had taken so much prodding and coaxing on Will's part to even get her into the clinic, Emma having sought fear of germs and fear of what may be inevitable as her reasons for not wanting to go. He'd had to promise to be in the room with her, no matter what, for her to even give the idea the proper time of day.

The ultrasound technician walked in, wearing a paper smock covered in cartoon pictures of bunnies. Emma smiled in spite of herself, feeling more at ease as the young woman began to speak. "Hi, Emma! My name is Cara Landon, and I'm going to be administering your ultrasound today. Your doctor told me about you OCD and mysophobia, so we're going to try to work with you on that, Emma. Now, if you could do me a favor and just lift up your shirt, I can get this over with sooner."

The smile on the light-brunette-haired technician made Emma relax, gripping Will's hand for support. However, as soon as she saw the clear gel, she began to breathe heavily, her heart starting to palpitate. "Emma, honey, there isn't another way to do this. It's a sterile gel. You'll be fine, sweetheart." Emma tried to relax her heart and got it down slightly, thinking how lucky she was to have Will at her side.

Cara moved the wand around Emma's stomach, coated with the gel, and exclaimed suddenly, "Emma, dear, you're having a baby!"

Emma froze, staring at Will, who was also frozen. Tears began welling in her enormous eyes, and she whispered to Will, "But I don't want to have a baby." There was no stutter in her voice, because there was no sadness anywhere within her. Nothing but a sense of emptiness and a burning desire to find a knife or a pin or something. Anything.

Breaking the silence, Will whispered back, "I told you I'd be there for you, Emma, and I meant it. Imagine…think of me like I'm the father. You'll get through this, Emma. We'll get through this."

Gently, Cara asked Emma, "Do you want a picture of your baby?" Emma's eyes were wide with fear, her heart palpitating wildly. Her breath came in ragged gasps that not even Will's hand on her arm could quell.

"I don't think that we're…Emma's…quite up for this now, but thank you for the offer," Will replied quietly. Lifting Emma to her feet and wrapping an arm around her, Will quietly thanked Cara for Emma. "I know that this…Emma just didn't want this…thank you for your understanding, Cara. It means a lot."

Cara smiled, gently, and squeezed Emma's hand. "You're going to be alright, dear."

As soon as the car started, the skies opened up on Will and Emma. Which was fitting because, when the skies opened up, so did Emma. And not in the way that Will would have preferred. "W-w-what are we going to do now, Will? You don't h-have to stay a-round for this…I u-understand."

Facing her, he said sincerely, "I'm not leaving you, Emma. This…of course, this is going to be tough, but you're going to have a beautiful baby to show for all of the heartache you've been through. I'll support you, whatever your choice, be it to keep the baby, abort the pregnancy, or put the baby up for adoption."

At the word 'abort,' Emma's eyes widened beyond what Will had previously thought possible. "They stick a vacuum thing up your…you know…and then they suck the embryo out. I may not want the baby, but I don't want to kill it!" She paused, waiting for the full effect of her words to sink in. "Anyway," she continued, "I'd s-sooner cut my uterus out myself. With a sterile knife."

Not catching the proposed humor in her last comment, Will asked her, "Do you want children someday, Em?"

Caught off-guard, Emma stammered, "W-well, yes, but…n-not now. N-not by my r-r-rapist."

Grinning at her, he replied smoothly, "Then don't cut your own womb out."

Emma tried to force a smile, but failed miserably. "Will, w-what am I going to d-do? I-I'm h-having a b-b-baby…Will. I c-c-can't do this." Her voice became angrier for a moment, as though lamenting the unfairness of it all. "I shouldn't h-have to do this!"

Pulling her head into the crook of his neck, Will whispered softly, "I told you, Emma. I'm not leaving you. Would it make it better if I claimed ownership of your bump, when it finally starts to show?"

Smiling softly, Emma replied, "Would you really?"

"Yeah, I would, really." Will kissed the top of Emma's head gently, triggering something like champagne pouring down her spine. She took her free hand in hers, feeling the strength of his fingertips that came from years of piano playing, and the rough calloused fingertips that pressed into her pale skin, skin soft from years of antibacterial gels. She found that if she focused on her hand intertwined with his, she could breathe, see straight. She could do and get through, baby or not.