NOTE! You guys have no idea how much I'm excited for you guys to read this chapter. I may tweet about it once in a while, but no amount of tweeting could ever express my excitement! I loved writing this chapter, so I do hope you love it too! Your comments/insights/reviews are very well-appreciated, as I always say. Thank you so much, Wemmites! Enjoy!

Chapter 5

You Make My Sun Shine*

Will's life had become a daily, boring repetition of the same activities ever since he moved to live with his father's family. Every morning at six he'd wake up in the middle of his ridiculously spacious bed and he'd spend a few minutes staring at the plain, white ceiling before he actually got up to go to the bathroom; the drops of water that hit Will's back as he stood sleepily under the shower rendered him completely awake, and from there he began to move at a faster pace, his senses coming alive as the water hit his skin. In a matter of minutes he was able to get himself clothed—the usual t-shirt and jeans, but he'd started to wear a sweater and a jacket because December had rolled in, bringing the chilly breeze along with it; he didn't bother combing his hair because his curls looked better uncombed once it dried up; he'd put his sneakers on and headed downstairs, backpack in tow.

Will had realized during his first morning in Ed Schuester's house that he was the earliest one up, surprised to find no one in the kitchen preparing breakfast, or anyone bustling around to take a bath and get ready for the day. Having been brought up by his mother, who was a nurse, to wake up and prepare early to avoid being late, he found this new environment quite unusual; he and his mother always got ready on time, and they'd both leave the house together—Will went to school while Cynthia Madison made her way to the hospital. But not long after he'd settled down in the kitchen to munch on an apple, Susan and Ed Schuester had followed; Will's father was already dressed, looking sharp as usual with his neatly-pressed clothes and combed hair. Ed Schuester took one look at Will and remarked, "Good, you're ready," before turning to his wife. "Henry needs to be up the same time we all do. He's already in high school and yet he doesn't give a damn about punctuality."

Susan sighed, as she took some food and cooking materials from the cabinets. "Your son's dead tired from swimming practice every day, Edward. And he still needs to study! Stop being so hard on him."

"You know you can't keep spoiling him," grumbled Ed Schuester. "Next thing you know he's off to college. How is he supposed to wake up on his own?"

"Alarm clocks exist, Ed," said Susan. "Until then, let Henry be our little boy."

Will had sat through the entire conversation, realizing he shouldn't even be there to listen to them; he slinked away from his seat but Ed Schuester stopped him.

"What do you want for breakfast?" he asked sternly, to which Will held up his half-eaten apple. "I'm not really hungry," he said honestly. "I'll just… I'll leave now; the school bus will be at the bus stop soon." And without waiting for his father's reply, he left.

Since moving to Lima, Ohio, it has always been the same, boring routine. Even in McKinley High.

He'd arrive in school along with most other students who also rode the bus, then he'd proceed to get the books in his locker. Will already managed to memorize his class schedules by heart, as well as the classrooms where he should be at given periods, so his feet would mindlessly lead the way without any worries of getting lost within the school grounds. During lunch, he'd eat alone at a table in the corner of the cafeteria, and be back in the classroom once the bell rang. Once classes were dismissed for the day, Will was once again on the bus then back in his father's house— where he'd shower, do his assignments, spend yet another awkward dinner with his father's family, until it was late and he'd simply fall asleep. He'd earned no friends despite having lived in Lima for more than a month already, and so Will lived in silence with no one to talk to, except of course the instances when he'd needed to stoically answer his father's questions. Occasionally he'd pass Emma in the hallway and when she saw him she'd smile and wave shyly at him, but he'd never really greeted her back, still doubtful of what her true intentions were. Was she befriending him because she pitied him, or did she really want to reach out to him?

Will had fallen into a dreadful pattern of tasks that neither gave him the satisfaction or joy of living. He still existed, but he sure wasn't living his life. He was still alive—or was he…? Will couldn't tell the difference anymore.

It was one of those days again. Will had just gotten home from school, barely exhausted from his classes. In his previous school, he used to do more than just sit in class; he had balanced all sorts of extracurricular activities without it having a negative effect on his study habits and grades. Being on the soccer team, glee club, and the student council did not prove to be a detriment, but instead served as Will's life source, urging him to keep striving harder and doing the best that he can in all that he was involved in.

He decided to take a long warm shower before starting his Chemistry assignment; the air had been colder than usual today and Will wanted the prickly feel of hot water wash upon him so he could focus better. His curly hair straightened out as soon as it was drenched, while Will watched the water drip from the tips of his fingers, onto his feet, and onto the tiled bathroom floor. The water just slid down his body and went straight to drain, just as much as he felt his own life was wasting away—down the drain, slipping through his fingertips.

Will didn't know for how long he had been standing under the shower but knew he should probably snap back into reality after he saw how pale his feet had become. Stepping out of the bathroom and drying himself up, he realized how much he suddenly craved for a glass of water, which was strange for some reason because having lingered around so much water only intensified his thirst. He hurried to get dressed, grabbing boxer shorts and a t-shirt and slipping into it before he sped down the stairs towards the kitchen. Chugging down two glasses of water one after the other, Will heaved a sigh of relief and leaned against the kitchen counter. He filled the glass one last time, and was halfway through finishing it when he heard noises and the sound of the front door unlocking. He prayed it wasn't his father's wife, Susan (who Will presumed was most likely the person to be at the door because both Henry and his father came home at around dinner time); it was awkward enough having to sit across from her every dinner—definitely Will preferred not having to let her catch him half-naked too. Choosing to finish the remaining contents of his glass upstairs, he silently crept into the hallway leading to the staircase, when a shadow of some sort had moved on his right; a second later, Emma popped out, peeking from the living room—she was grinning at first, having thought she was going to see Henry, but her face transformed into one who was genuinely shocked as soon as her eyes met Will's instead.

"Holy shit!" Will jumped in surprise, spilling the glass of water onto his t-shirt, a black top with a large Superman logo in the middle. "What are you doing here?!"

Emma seemed to have been shaken as well; her face was pale, her eyes dilated, and her mouth dropped open. Her fingertips were shivering slightly, still unable to recover from the thrill that had rushed through her nerves. "Wh-what are you doing here?" she stuttered.

"I live here!" Will responded immediately. "What are you doing here?" He asked again, pointing at her when he said you.

But Emma couldn't get her voice to leave her throat. Her eyes had wandered down from Will's eyes to his soaked black t-shirt—now clinging tightly to his torso—down to his boxers shorts—that were seemingly too tight for him to fit into; she tried to speak again, but all she could gasp out were three words: "Oh my god."

Will swallowed uncomfortably, feeling the blood rush both to his face and to the sensitive spot in between his legs. Following the direction where her eyes were focused on, Will looked down upon himself and realized Emma wasn't staring at the Superman logo on his shirt but at a place lower than that; his crotch area had bulged, and to make things worse he had chosen to wear a pair of boxers he owned a year ago which had only emphasized his private part. He was basically half-naked in front of her and here she was, shamelessly staring at him!

"S-so…what are you… doing… here?" Will said loudly, covering his groin with his hands and the empty glass of water he was gripping too tightly.

Emma had looked up again, to Will's relief. Her huge brown eyes, if anything, were only more dilated than ever, and her face seemed to have gone redder than her own hair. "Huge—huge thing," she blurted out.

"W-what?"

"H-huge science p-project thing—with Henry, that's what I was going t-to say!"

"Well, where is he?" Will toughened up, but he was still embarrassed, wanting nothing more than to get a pair of sweatpants or jeans on.

"Upstairs. He's, um, getting the materials we need f-for the thing—the science project." said Emma. She was tugging at the scarf wrapped cozily around her neck as she was beginning to sweat, although she couldn't quite tell the reason why she was feeling so warm on a cold December day.

"Oh. So you're friends again?" His mind went back to that day when Henry and Emma fought over him.

"Yes, we are." She said simply.

"Great." Did he just sound disappointed? Will heard it in his own voice, as though he disliked the idea of Emma back on Henry's side. But Emma was still going to stand up for him, wasn't she? Emma was still on his side, right? Has she ever been, in the first place? Why was he even bothered by all of this?

"So, you're feeling at home here, I could tell," Emma decided to change the subject, trying her best to keep her eyes on Will's instead of straying to other parts of his body.

"Nope. Not one bit," shrugged Will. "This is an insanely large house to call a home."

"You're right," Emma smiled, stepping closer to Will. "You know when Henry first brought me here I thought we were in Disneyland," she laughed softly.

"This isn't the happiest place on earth, why would you even think along the lines of Disneyland?" Will snorted, shaking his head at the mere thought.

"I—I don't know, you're right I guess," Emma said, nodding. She took another nervous step towards him, breathing heavily again. "Your shirt's still wet, Will. I'm sorry I startled you."

Will wanted to take a step back, feeling the lower part of his body warm up again; times like these he hated having to be a hormonal teenage boy who couldn't fully control his body's urges. "It's f-fine. P-pretend it never happened."

Emma smiled gratefully before reaching into her bag. "You can dry yourself off with this," she said, handing him a white face towel. "I know it's yours. I'm sorry it took me a while to return it to you… you weren't exactly, um, approachable these past few weeks."

It was the same towel Will had coughed his bloody mouth into after some boys had cornered him during his first day at McKinley High. He remembered hiding it under the pillow in the nurse's clinic where he slept, but he'd forgotten all about it until now, when Emma was returning it to him.

"I'd say thanks… but you're creeping me out." Will furrowed his eyebrows at Emma as he took the towel from her. "How'd you find this?"

"I can explain that, actually—"

"Whoa, why are you dressed like that?" Henry had jogged down the stairs, carrying the box of materials for their project; he was now looking at Will disgustedly.

"He didn't know we'd be here," Emma chimed before Will could answer back. "Didn't you tell him about the project we were—?"

"I don't need to tell him anything," said Henry, cutting Emma off. "C'mon, we need to get started," and he led the way to the living room.

"You better go," Will said, seemingly unaffected by Henry's continued retorts against him.

Emma smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that. I keep telling him to treat you better."

"Why?"

"Why what?" Emma mumbled, pretending not to understood Will's question—oh, but how she knew perfectly well what he meant, only she didn't want to voice it out.

"Emma!" Henry yelled from the living room; he was getting impatient.

"I have to go!" Emma stepped back and grinned at Will, her cheeks still blushing as her eyes strayed stubbornly for one last glance at Will's body—why couldn't she keep her eyes on the level of Will's face? Mentally berating herself, Emma could only bite her lip and act like her thoughts weren't bothering her. "I'll see you around school," she added, waving once at him as she disappeared into the living room.

"I'll see you around school," Will repeated to himself as soon as he was back in his room, lying in bed as he stared at the ceiling he'd known every detail of.

I'll see you, he thought.

And from that day forward, life would never be a cycle of boring routines for Will Schuester ever again.

*It's a song by Swim Deep with the same title.