A/N: I'm so sorry that I held you guys off for so long, but I had a severe bout of writer's block [and not just on this], and then we were packing to go away, and then I was in Florida for a week...but here it is, the crime and drama portion of this story. I hate to admit it, but once I started writing this, it came together in about fifteen minutes XD As always, thanks to my fantastic reviewers who manage to be full of ideas even when I'm out of them - your support means so much!
Emma shuffled her hands together, and it was after a moment of staring that he realized that there wasn't a drop of antibacterial gel on her hands. Maybe moisturizer; didn't all women use that? He opened his mouth to tell her how proud he was, but the look in her eyes told him to save his tongue.
"Will, I need to tell you something." She cast a glance down at the carpet, as though appraising non-existent stain.
Taking her hand in his and rubbing circles gently on the top of it, he replied gently, "Of course, Em. What is it?"
Inhaling deeply, she whispered, "I l-l-lied to you, Will. I-I-I'm s-so s-sorry."
Motioning for her to come closer, and watching her steadfastly resist, Will asked softly, his brow furrowing in confusion, "What? Emma, I don't…I don't understand."
Tears welling in her expansive and expressive eyes, Emma replied, "Will, what I told you…about t-the r-r-rape…I lied."
The pain that flew to Will's eyes, and the knowledge that she caused it, sent her to tears. Leading his tear-blinded girlfriend to the couch, Will asked her softly, "What do you mean? You didn't…no, I don't think…did you?"
Through her sobs, Emma managed a strangled reply. "No…No, no, no. Will, I could…I could never…I never slept with a-a-anyone else." Will pulled her head into his chest, trying to reassure both the redhead in his arms and himself that things weren't as bad as they seemed.
"Then what happened, Em? Please, you've got…you've got to tell me. I can only help you if I know what really happened." He ran his fingers absently through her hair, waiting.
Inhaling deeply, the breath spluttering at the end, she replied softly, "W-w-when I told you…about it…I lied. I w-w-was honestly r-raped, b-b-but…I figured that it would be e-easier to understand. Or s-s-something. You know, w-we order pizza for lunch, I'm in my o-office, my turn to pay…the horny pizza guy takes a-advantage of the w-woman who doesn't know what to do. Or something like t-that."
Hugging her even tighter than he'd been before, Will whispered, "I knew…I knew that you weren't lying to me about being r…being raped. You couldn't, even if you wanted to. You are the most real, most sincere, most honest woman I have ever met." Her sobs beginning to subside, much to Will's relief, he continued, "But something about your story was a little unusual. But it's not like our lives are that usual anyway." Though his words were meant to be lighthearted, a certain gravity hung about his voice until he asked her quietly, "What did happen, then?"
The floodgates began again, and it was easily a few minutes before Emma was calmed down enough to explain. "I…I went to Carl's, to break up with him. Y-you were right, you know…dentist or not, what we had…it wasn't over. It still isn't. But anyway, I-I went to end it with him, and…and I g-g-guess he'd been drinking, a-and he wouldn't take no for an answer. W-when I t-t-tried to leave, he…he twisted my arm and started undressing me and then he started touching me and he raped me on the fucking floor."
Will moved his hand towards Emma's clavicle and shoulders, where a myriad of burns and bruises danced across her pale skin. "Did he do that to you?"
"Y-y-yes. H-he poured hot wax o-on me…that w-was an accident, the c-candle fell off of the table. A-and then he s-s-said that he…he liked hearing me s-scream. So h-he started hurting me. F-finally he stopped, a-and I ran o-out.. I took a shower and scrubbed myself raw and it didn't help." She whimpered as he touched an open wound on her forearm, but he said nothing about it.
Kissing her hair, savoring the smell of her vanilla perfume, Will asked her imploringly, "Why didn't you come to me?"
Her breath spilling out raggedly, her voice louder than intended as result of her pain, she exclaimed, "What did you want me to say? 'Will, I'm so madly in love with you t-that I broke up w-with my boyfriend and then he raped me. Wanna fuck?"
"You wouldn't have said that, Emma. Be realistic. If you came to me and told me what happened, I could have helped you. You could've taken the morning-after pill and we wouldn't have to scramble and think of how backwards our courtship is. Illegitimate baby, dating, and then wherever that leads. And honestly, Emma, if I thought that you were serious, and that you wanted it, I would've made love to you anywhere you wanted." His tone was slightly less sympathetic, as though he wanted her to see that he wasn't a monster to be afraid of.
Gasping with horror and anger, Emma fired back, "Oh, so this is my fault? I walked up to Carl and said 'I don't care how much I resist, you are going to fuck me right here, right now?' And furthermore, the prospect of using the morning-after pill didn't come up because I was too busy doing other things to think about that possibility. I tried to kill myself, Will, a fact which you seem to be overlooking."
Will looked at her, the love in his gaze countered by his hurt for her. "When did you try suicide?" he asked gently, taking her hand in his and rubbing circles the back of its miraculously smooth surface.
A convulsion taking her, Emma replied quietly, "On Wednesday, t-things got pretty bad. I cut myself in the shower shaving, and…suddenly, bleeding of m-my own accord didn't seem so bad. I cut my arms, and made those two deep cuts on my arms because I wanted t-to die. Or I t-thought that I did."
"Emma...Emma, my God. It wasn't a matter of whether you should've come to me...Emma, you needed to. You could've died." He realized his poor choice of words a touch too late, but still. The woman he loved had almost bled out , and it was almost his fault, at least a little.
Snorting elegantly, Emma replied, "Imagine the headlines. 'Mysophobic guidance counselor raped, in catatonic state later attempts suicide.' I was ashamed of myself, Will. Ashamed that I'd had my virginity and everything else taken from me, and ashamed that I tried to kill myself. I thought that you'd be upset with me, quite honestly."
Will pressed his lips against every scratch and mark on her body, as though confirming his conviction. "Emma, Emma, darling," he whispered, coming down to the deep wounds on her wrists. "I'm upset with what happened to you, but it has nothing to do with you." Returning his fingertips gently to her arms, he whispered, "Emma, how did this happen?"
Her tone softening as she prepared to explain the inevitable, Emma replied in a choked whisper, "I wasn't feeling anything. Nothing at all. It was like…l-like it never happened. But it did, it did. It made me feel so real, seeing the blood, everything. I cut here, and here, and here," she murmured, motioning to her arms, chest, and stomach, respectively.
"Why?" Will's voice was soft with shock, and Emma could hear understanding trying to creep in. But the truth was, he didn't understand, and she couldn't make him.
Her eyes clearing of tears, she whispered, "Because it let me feel something. Anything. And the cutting and then cleaning and dressing the wounds gave me something to think about other than my sorry state."
Winding his fingers through her silky hair, Will whispered to her, "What sorry state? Emma Pillsbury, I love you, scars and all, and I will try to make this right. I love you, and if that isn't enough, I don't know what else I can give to you. I'd already give you the world." He kissed her head again, feeling her fall asleep in his lap.
Knowing that she was presumably safe inside her sleep gave Will the peace of mind to nod off himself. He would've sung her a lullaby, if he'd been able to keep his eyes open long enough to think of a song good enough to sing to her.