The Calm Before the Storm - (8 Parts)

[Evergreen]

With some people you could just feel them approaching, a general sort of uneasiness preceding their arrival. With Rachel Berry, the uneasiness preceded her by at least 10 seconds when it pertained to Will Schuester. He could sense when she was coming, and it tended to happen when things had finally settled down, the calm before the storm he liked to call it.

“Mr. Schuester,” she stated as she entered his room, not even bothering to check and see if he was there, as if she, too, had a sense of when he was finally alone and relaxing.

“Ye…” he paused, clearing his throat, something that was not uncommon with Rachel, as his body frequently tried to beg him not to engage in whatever conversation was about to occur, attempting to stop him from speaking to his extremely difficult to please star. “Yes, Rachel?”

“I heard some rumor that you were debating letting Mercedes sing a solo today at rehearsal?” she demanded, clearly upset by the notion that someone else could get a chance at being in the spotlight.

“She asked me last week to sing one, so yes, she’ll be singing one and then we’ll be working on our set list for sectionals,” he answered quietly, not just because part of him was a little scared (yes, Rachel Berry sort of scared him merely because of the hell she could unleash on you), but also because his throat had been aching dully for the entire day.

“But I wanted to sing my solo,” she stated in a barely disguised whine.

“What did you want to sing?” he asked, his body really begging him at this moment not to piss off Rachel, he just couldn’t handle it and his head already felt heavy, a general fuzzy feeling preceding a massive headache.

Rachel looked taken aback for only a moment, having expected a little more of a fight and thus she really hadn’t gotten to think about the song in particular she wanted to sing, before she grinned smugly. “Well, I haven’t decided yet, but I’m glad it didn’t take long for you to come to your sens… Ew,” she ended as Will grabbed a tissue, turned sharply away from her and directed two back to back sneezes into it: “Ha’etschh’uh. Gnssh.”

“Sorry,” he apologized, Rachel wrinkling her nose in distaste.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked bluntly.

“Nothing, Rachel. I sneezed. Was there something else?”

She blatantly ignored his question, continuing, “Mr. Schue you better not be getting sick before sectionals, because if we lose this thing because of your diseased sinuses, I will never forgive you.”

He sighed and bit back a cough that would not work to his advantage. “Rachel, I’m not getting sick,” he insisted. “Was there something else you needed?”

“No,” she said slowly, watching him carefully for a moment. “I’ll see you at rehearsal. Take some vitamin C or something. Seriously.”

He set his jaw a little, forcing himself not to become annoyed with Rachel’s genuine, albeit selfish, concern for his wellbeing. “Thanks, Rachel. Will do. I’ll see you later.”

As soon as she left he sighed again, this time allowing a few coughs escape before he set his head down on his desk just intending to rest his eyes because that same heavy feeling seemed to be spreading to the entirety of his body, including his eyelids. Oh, he better not be getting sick.

TBC

[Aria]

Excellent, great start! That sickness episode of Glee left me desperately wanting more sick!Will, so this hits the spot. Can't wait to hear more!

[jezebel215]

<sigh>

[LoneStar]

Yay! i love Will glee fics and you really have a grasp on the characters. im really excited to read more.

[tma]

:blushing: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! LOVE it! :laugh:

*sighs* I'm SO happy. (if you couldn't tell )

Will keep both eyes peeled. Oh... and will continue w/ your sickWilson/Cam fluffyness. *evil grin*

[Evergreen]

((yay thanks everyone. sorry these are short and with only one occurrence of sneezing in both segments, but i've only got a little free time over the next week, so i'll get you updates (even semi-short ones) when i can. hopefully as classes come to a close, i'll have time to write longer segments.))

“Will?”

The soft inquiry took its place in his dreams, and he shifted a little, his subconscious very much enjoying the entrance of Miss Emma Pillsbury into the picture.

“Will? Wake up. Are you okay?”

This served to alert him that perhaps Emma was not only in his dream (a fairly common occurrence), but actually in his classroom, and he was, in fact, sleeping at school.

He opened his eyes slowly, hoping that he was not where he thought he was, and Emma would not be standing there, her huge, expressive eyes all full of worry, but he quickly spotted her freshly ironed skirt and matching pumps. Raising his gaze, he took in the tucked-in shirt, smoothed so that not the slightest wrinkle existed, and then her face with those eyes not only worried but uncomfortable, as well.

Becoming acutely aware of the fact that he was still hunched over his desk, he straightened a little too fast, his vision swimming momentarily and his head pounding in protest. He could barely disguise a grimace and blushed violently as he noticed the small pool of spit upon the otherwise clean surface of his desk, and he noticed that Emma saw it, too.

Her eyes were glued to that spit as if it were going to leap off the table and attack her, and she smoothed her skirt nervously, her hands shaking just the slightest bit. “Will, are you okay?” she asked again, looking much like a frightened deer, desperately itching to bolt.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, his voice husky from sleep and the congestion that was beginning to set into his sinuses like cement.

“Are you sure?” she went on, forcing the words out, because she really didn’t want to be here, but Will was her friend. “Because you were sleeping at school and you’ve got this sort of look like maybe, um, you’re feeling a little under the weather, like maybe you’re si… Uh, nevermind. Just… Are you alright?” She couldn’t even force the word “sick” out of her mouth, and she looked rather disturbed at the thought of illness, of the germs swimming in that pool of saliva that he was now embarrassedly wiping up with a tissue.

He prepared to answer again that yes, he was fine, but his nose had other plans. “Emma, I, hih, I’m really sohhh sorry, but I thihhh think I’m going to snehhhh’TSCHOO. Huh’GNSHOO.” He broke off, grabbing another tissue and directing two wet sneezes into it, his eyes watering profusely as he opened them, but even through his swimming vision, he could see that Emma had taken a few steps back and had paled significantly, her hands shaking more.

“No, no don’t be…” she trailed off a little bit, watching him fearfully as he dropped the tissue and barely missed his wastebasket, the germs now probably crawling on the floor towards her. She shook her head. She was being silly. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. “Bless you.” The words sounded more than forced, but she tried to offer the slightest smile of apology, although it really came out looking like a grimace.

“Thanks. I’m really sorry, Emma. I’m fine, though,” he insisted, not wanting to scare her more by affirming that he did feel like he was coming down with something. That worry was further reinforced as his throat itched suddenly, and he used his elbow to cover a few coughs.

“Okay, well, I’m glad to, uh, hear that, Will. I’ve got things to do, important, uh, papers and stuff to read. Sorry,” she said, now unable to take at, feeling like she needed to change. The germs! They had to be on her by now. They were sharing the same air for Christ’s sake. She turned abruptly, knocking into a desk, and she offered another flustered “sorry” before she fled the room, leaving Will to kick himself mentally.

Emma was a woman he liked (possibly loved), her neuroticism and all, and here he was scaring her to the point of running into things as she tried to escape from him. With a sigh that only produced some coughs, he grabbed some ungraded papers from his bag, trying to keep his mind from replaying what had just happened with Emma, but it was to no avail, and he let a deep frown remain on his face as he halfheartedly corrected the sheets.

TBC

[Spoo]

Ahhh! This is wonderful. Everyone is so brilliantly in character - especially Emma! I could literally hear her mousy voice in my head as I read through the second part. Fantastic work! I look forward to more.

[tma]

:bounce:

LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!

I just want to scoop up Will and take care of him. And Emma was Absolutely *Perfect*. Poor, brave Emma- she was trying SO hard. And then guilty, miserable-feeling Will. I'm so in love. *sighs*.

I've already re-read this like 5 times. Will keep eyes peeled for more. *grins like besotted goof*

[Evergreen]

((yay, this segment is longer. hope you all like it! ))

By the time he was supposed to go to the Glee club practice, his head felt like it had been filled with cotton balls that pressed so hard up against his eyes that they throbbed with pain, he had the sort of congestion settled into his nose, where when you blew your nose, a chunk of your sinuses felt like it was going to be ripped out, and he felt like he was coming down with a fever, if the alternating feelings of being extremely cold and extremely hot were any indicator.

Walking down the hall much like a zombie, he grimaced as he saw Sue.

“Hey there, William. You look even more pathetic than usual,” she said as she took in his appearance.

“Sue, not now,” he tried softly, his nose itching suddenly, something he didn’t want to happen in the presence of Emma, much less Sue. She’d have a field day with his vulnerability.

“What’s the matter, Will? Did you witness the death of a puppy, because that’s about how your face looks right now?”

He shook his head, turning sharply aware from her, as if that would disguise what he was doing, as he tried to stifle two sneezes silently, like perhaps she wouldn’t notice. “Hih’gnxxt. Nxxt.”

“Well, don’t you sound like the cutest little girl with your adorable little sneeze,” she mocked. “And you know what? Your hair didn’t move one bit. Might wanna lay off the hair gel, William.”

He didn’t respond to Sue’s characteristic jabs at his hair, that sneeze having been painful to contain, his eyes feeling about ready to pop out of his head. In fact, he didn’t give Sue the benefit of any reaction at all, as he brushed past her, leaving her to scowl.

“Aw, come on, William. You don’t want Principal Higgins to know you’re infecting the entire school with swine!?”

Will couldn’t help but turn around as he heard the voice of none other, Principal Higgins. “What is this about swine flu, Mr. Schuester?”

“Nodthidg, Pridcipal Higgids,” he answered, hating himself for how thick with congestion his voice was.

Principal Higgins approached him, looking hard at his appearance. “Mr. Schuester, you look sick,” he observed.

“I’b really fide,” he responded, although a runaway sneeze debunked that statement. “Huh’GNSHOO.”

Principal Higgins couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in distaste, giving his order on the subject. “You need to go home and rest, and you are not coming back until you have no fever and have not had one for 24 hours, the same protocol we use for the kids.”

“But, I have Glee rehearsal,” he protested meekly.

“Oh, I’ll be more than happy to tell your island of misfit toys that their beloved teacher is currently incapacitated,” Sue chimed in wickedly, a smug smile on her face as Principal Higgins commended her for offering.

“Doh!” he stated sharply, wincing at the pain in his throat. “Cad you gedt Mbiss Pillsbury to do it? Or beddter yedt, can see if she’ll supervise the pracdtice instead of sedding theb hobe?”

“Very well, Mr. Schuester. I’ll arrange for a substitute to take your classes tomorrow. Feel better,” Mr. Higgins replied diplomatically before leaving, Sue following him as she was meaning to talk to him about getting more money for the Cheerios.

Coughing miserably, he made his way out to his car, a small feeling of guilt nestling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Rachel, or, rather, Emma who was going to have to deal with Rachel. He had insisted to Rachel he was not getting sick, and she was going to go ballistic when she found out he was, in fact, sick. Sectionals were a week and a half away, so it wasn’t like he wouldn’t be better by that point, but he did admit that the timing for this cold or flu or whatever the hell it was did seem pretty unfortunate, as this was crunch time in terms of getting their set list worked out.

--

Emma was sitting at her desk in a brand new outfit when Principal Higgins came in. “Ms. Pillsbury, Mr. Schuester has been sent home sick, and he requested that you supervise his Glee club meeting.”

“Will’s sick!?” she demanded, the worry evident in her voice, as was the shock, although she didn’t know why she was so shocked. Maybe it was because she had managed to convince herself that he was telling the truth earlier when he said he was fine.

“Yes, he’ll be out for a few days. But I presume that you’ll be willing to watch his Glee club. If you aren’t, that’s no problem. Ms. Sylvester has also offered.”

“No! I’d be more than happy to. Thank you, Principal Higgins,” she said, offering a cheerful smile, although her eyes were worried as he exited her office.

--

The Glee kids were not happy when she told them Mr. Schuester was not coming and at home feeling under the weather, as she could not bring herself to say “sick” still. She had expected them to be worried, but it didn’t seem like many were worried at all, just pissed beyond belief that he would get sick now of all times, as if he had a choice in the matter.

“What is he trying to do to us?” Rachel had melodramatically demanded.

“It’s just like him to go home over some sniffles,” Finn had sourly commented.

“Well, why doesn’t he just come to Glee practice and go home after?” Mercedes had asked insensitively.

Emma was almost tempted to yell at them, but she found herself attempting a stern lecture instead. “Mr. Schuester was sent home, Mercedes and Finn, so it was not his choice in the matter. As for you, Rachel, he is feeling miserable and the least you can do is try to be a little sensitive. Now, he asked me to supervise his Glee club, and I know sectionals is coming up, so I’m going to practice with you until Mr. Schuester is back. Now does anyone have any other questions?” she asked, taking a look at the kids, who were now silent. Maybe she was better at this lecturing thing than she thought.

Rachel shattered that hope, though, as she muttered, “Well, I know who I’ll be blaming if we lose.” She quickly recovered, though, seeming to like the thought of being able to be the stand-in Will for the time being. “Okay, well since Mr. Schuester is not here, I want to nominate myself to organize our thoughts. Now, let’s work on this set list,” she said, if not with optimism, with a genuine enjoyment of being the boss.

Emma sighed, pretending like she hadn’t heard what Rachel had muttered, although it broke her heart that Will was all alone at home with no one concerned about him at all. She knew that he wasn’t dating anyone, so there would be no girl coming over. She also knew that his Glee kids, if they did show up, would just make him feel even worse. With that in mind, she found herself doing something strange once Rachel had finished her tirade and the rehearsal was adjourned: she found herself calling Carl to say she was not going to be able to see him tonight.

Emma had never been one for lying, but once Carl asked her why she wasn’t going to be able to see him, she found herself telling most of the truth, except for one crucial detail, that coworker in need was distraught over a break-up, that they were a girl, and thus they were certainly not Will Schuester. She felt sick as she hung up the phone, as Carl had been so proud of her, going to take care of a female coworker who had just broken up with her boyfriend. She was a terrible girlfriend, but that wasn’t her chief worry for long, as she found herself standing outside Will’s house.

Staring wearily at the doorknob, which was, no doubt, crawling with germs still, she knocked on his door, her other hand holding a bag of stuff from the grocery store, including orange juice, tea, cough drops in four different varieties, tissues both with and without lotion, five different cold medicines and three different brands of chicken soup.

Praying he didn’t just tell her to come in and expose her to that germy doorknob, she breathed a sigh of relief as she heard him shuffling around behind the door. That relief only lasted for a moment as she heard a muffled sneeze and a string of coughs following it. She shifted nervously, coaching her breaths as she heard the lock turn, but she felt about ready to faint. That feeling intensified as Will opened the door, shivering violently from the draft of cold air.

“Ebba…” he said softly, the word neither a question nor a statement, but rather a mixture between the two.

TBC

[TheCakeIsAlive]

Awesome story.

Hmmm.... miserable/guilty Will is really quite melt-worthy.

And Emma trying so very hard... awww

[tma]

*sighs*

GAH... ajlfjsujrpjflfjklfjaslfj... you have me officially incoherent and on the edge of my seat wanting more. Poor Will. *snuggles him*

[polychrome]

Fantastic! I love the time you spend on the details and the characters. It's too bad you weren't working for Glee before the cold episode came out...

[Evergreen]

((so, i am fully aware that i am an addict. i'm once again updating. haha. hope you all like this part and don't mind me saying Will is afraid of clowns. haha. i loved writing this part!))

Emma had to fight from shuddering as she took in his appearance. He looked awful. His nose had taken on a red shade, his face was pallid, his forehead shone with a light sheen of sweat, and his eyes had this glassy look to them, a look that would make anyone fret over him, as he clearly felt terrible, but it made Emma scared, very scared.

“Will,” she forced out, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She adjusted the bag in her hand, sorely tempted to just hand it to him and leave, but he looked so sad and so vulnerable with his blanket wrapped around him, trembling slightly from the cold.

“What are…” he trailed off, ducking his head behind the door momentarily to cough harshly, giving Emma a moment to freak out, visibly flinching at the sound of his coughs that had just the slightest rattle of phlegm to them. As soon as he looked back out, however, she forced herself to look calm, or at least to look less on the verge of tears. “What are you doing here?” he asked, feeling self conscious with her just standing there, looking pretty as could be, and with him looking like death warmed over.

“I, um – Mr. Higgins said you weren’t feeling well,” she explained breathily, unable to tear her eyes away from the hand that was gripping his blanket, a hand that he’d probably just covered his coughs with.

“Yeah, he sedt be hobe,” Will confirmed, looking at her confusedly. He didn’t want to ask her again why she was here, since he didn’t want to scare her off, but really… What was Emma, the biggest germaphobe around, doing standing outside his house, ground zero of whatever he was suffering from? “Do you wadt to cobe id?” he asked tentatively, unsure of how she was going to react to such an offer.

“Uh,” she started, her gaze darting around nervously, unable to keep from settling back on that germ-infested hand of his. “I don’t know,” she said, although her conscience was kicking her. She had come here to at least attempt to make him feel better. To do that, she really had to go in. “Sorry, yeah, I do,” she changed her answer quickly, gripping the bag of supplies like it was a life raft, and she couldn’t help but hate herself for how immature she was being about this whole thing.

Will stepped aside to let Emma in, who scurried in like someone was pushing her, and he shifted on his feet uncomfortably. “Whadt’s thadt?” he asked thickly, his throat hurting from the effort of talking at a normal tone, but he didn’t want to let Emma know just how sick he was, partially because he wasn’t at his most attractive by far and partially because he didn’t know what would trigger her to leave. He didn’t want her running for the door like she had done back at school in his classroom.

“Oh, this? I, uh, went to the store and got some things for you,” she said quickly, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. She really was an idiot and a terrible girlfriend. Was this cheating on Carl? She knew she wasn’t doing anything, but just two weeks ago Carl had come down with a cold from one of his patients sneezing on him, and she wouldn’t even call him, because the sound of his voice skeeved her out, and, yet, here she was at Will’s house with feel-better supplies. Shit.

“Wow, thadt’s really dice, Ebba,” Will said, genuinely surprised. He was even more surprised as she passed him, although he did note like she was holding her breath, to enter into the kitchen. He lingered back, an itching in his nose presenting itself, and while he really didn’t want to hold the sneeze in, he didn’t want to scare Emma. He didn’t want her to leave.

”Hih’ngxxt. Nxxt. Nxtschhhuh.”

The last sneeze, which had come loose from its stifle at the end, made Emma cringe, grateful that Will wasn’t here to see her. “Bless you,” she forced out, her voice a decibel higher than normal, her hands shaking as she pulled out every object from the bag and placed it in an organized fashion along the rim of his counter, organizing each thing alphabetically.

“Ugh, thadks,” he said, resentful at how much huskier his voice had become from those sneezes. “Wow, Ebba, you really shouldnd’t have bought so buch!” He tried not to let his vision linger upon just how obsessively those items had been arranged, not wanting to do anything to stain his gratitude of what she had done.

She couldn’t bear to look at him, as if those sneezes had dislodged some snot or something, as if he had walked in his kitchen with a giant booger hanging out of his nose. Just the thought made her tremble a little, and she measured a breath. “Don’t worry about it, Will,” Emma said.

“Hih’kshhh’uh. Uh’TSCHOO.” Those two sneezes had come without warning and were in no way subdued. Thankfully, Will had managed to cover his nose and turn away from Emma, but as he turned back, he noticed her hands gripping tight to the countertop, knuckles white from the effort. “I’b sorry, Ebba,” he murmured, feeling ashamed at having caused her so much anxiety.

“No, Will, don’t be. It’s me. It’s all my fault,” she whimpered out, “I’m being stupid. Sorry.”

Will frowned, taking a step closer, still noticing that she wouldn’t look at him. “Hey, dod’t feel sorry. You’re here, and I dow it’s hard for you. You know, clowds scare the hell out of be. Seriously, the Glee kids wadted to go to a carnival for like a group trip, and I pretedded to fall asleep on the way over so I did’t have to get out of the bus,” he offered, smiling as she turned to look at him, her eyes glistening but a genuine smile on her face.

“What’s so scary about clowns?” she asked softly, feeling a little more relaxed now that she could see that all of Will’s snot was still intact within his nose.

“Duddo. They just scare be to death. At least a fear of gerbs makes sense,” he reassured. “Would it bake you feel better to disinfect my whole house? Because thad’s fide. The Lysol is udder the sidk. And, you know what? I’ve got these two oven bitts that are clead in the drawer next to the oved. If you want, you cad put those on my hands so I don’t touch anythidg, and if I have to cough or sdeeze or anything, I can just slide theb off. Would that work?”

Emma grinned despite her fear, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, Will, that’d be great.” She gingerly opened the drawer with the oven mitts and grabbed them. By the time she had turned around, Will had held his arms out so that she could merely slip them on without touching him at all.

“It’ll be like the tibe I had the chicked pox,” he said brightly once they were secure, smiling as Emma gave his mitted hand a squeeze.

“Thanks, Will.”

TBC

[tma]

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

:laugh:

Gah... this is just... I can't even figure out what to say.

Emma is so Emma and I LOVE that you have this Really great balance between her niceness (and attraction to Will) versus her very real phobia.

And I just Absolutely Adore Will, and he is just so perfectly him.

And this....

he didn’t want to let Emma know just how sick he was, partially because he wasn’t at his most attractive by far and partially because he didn’t know what would trigger her to leave.

AWWWWW!!! :wub:

Loving this, and completely eating it up like yummy dessert.

[wishiwassneezy]

LOVE this story! Everything is spot on. Can't wait for the next part!

[polychrome]

Thanks for continuing, it just keeps getting better

[Spoo]

D'awwwwww. I want to eat Will up! The poor dear. I'm adoring the interaction between him and Emma. It's spot-on!

[TheCakeIsAlive]

Awww... so sweet. I love how he's feeling horrible and trying so hard to not scare her off and her balance between wanting to stay and the urge to get the hell out of there.

[Evergreen]

((thanks again, everyone, for all your support. i'm sorry to anyone who cannot read about people getting sick to their stomach, be advised. the description is pretty vague, i think, and you can see it coming for a mile away, so quit reading at that point if you don't want to read it. i felt like it was a necessary advancement of the situation. also, sorry for making will a little bit of a jerk in this section, but... i feel he's justified to act that way (and, of course, feel awful about it, because he's really a nice guy). hope you enjoy! p.s. sorry it's short again. haha. i felt like that was the appropriate stopping point.))

Will had dismissed himself to the living room as Emma had set to getting the cleaning supplies. While he felt a little bad about having her do a chore that he needed to do, he simply didn’t feel up to trying to act at least semi-healthy and trying to make her feel comfortable.

As she entered the living room, in which he was laying on the couch, his blanket now spread across him, Emma smiled sadly. The poor thing. He looked so sad, and, yet, so cute with those oven mitts on, especially as he attempted to turn the TV on.

“Here,” she offered, sanitizing the remote as she grabbed it and then turning the TV on for him. “What did you want to watch?”

“Uh, usually I pudt od the chaddel with all the classic musicals, chaddel 47,” he admitted, holding back coughs until Emma could get away, and until he could slip the oven mitt off and cover his mouth with a tissue. Hacking miserably into it, he really wished Emma could just touch him, hold his hand, hug him… He knew he could never ask that of her (as she would probably be too afraid to oblige and then would feel like crap about it) and she was with Carl now, but he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so sick.

Speaking of Carl, though, why was Emma here? Really, his feverish mind had wanted to forget all about that little piece of information, which is probably why he hadn’t asked her how Carl felt about being here, but now his interest was piqued. Did they break up? He couldn’t imagine Emma coming here if she was still Carl’s girlfriend, because, really, what boyfriend would be okay with their girlfriend taking care of another man, a man who was known to like your girlfriend very, very much? He knew he wouldn’t be okay with that if Emma was his girlfriend, although he sorely wished she was at this moment in time as he heard her humming along to the music on the television, a song from Guys and Dolls.

Throwing his tissue away in a trashcan he’d placed by the couch earlier, he slid the oven mitt back on, wrinkling his nose as his stomach churned ominously.

The situation quickly became critical as his stomach lurched, and he stood quickly, darting into the bathroom, which Emma had unfortunately just finished cleaning and she was now in the hallway to see him run past her.

If he could have willed the vomit back down, things would have been so much better, but unfortunately he deposited the contents of what he’d eaten that day into the toilet. Feeling significantly sicker, he didn’t even panic as he heard Emma reassuring herself quietly that it was okay, that everything was going to be okay. In fact, he felt a little resentful at how he was sick, really sick, and, yet, she had come here and now he was having to make himself feel worse to make her feel better. Maybe it was from the aching in his stomach or the throbbing of his head or just the angry realization that despite her being here, she was still not his, but as he lowered himself to the floor and heard her enter the bathroom, he found himself scowling.

“Will?” Emma asked, her voice squeaky and uncomfortable.

“I’b sorry, Ebba,” he repeated, able to tell from her voice that she was panicking, and he knew he should have left it at that, willed his anger away, but like the vomit, it came up. “Please leave, just… Go,” he mumbled, unsure of why he was pushing her away, but he did know he was embarrassed as hell and feeling more and more self conscious by the second.

He heard her set her cleaning supplies down and take a hurt little breath, like she was about to cry, and he screwed his eyes shut as his stomach twisted again and he lurched for the toilet. He could hear her let out a small sob, her footsteps picking up to a jog, as she was now actively fleeing him. Then he heard his front door slam closed. Shit. He was an awful person.

Feeling no motivation for getting up, he lowered himself back to the floor, shaking violently despite his blanket, and desperately wishing Emma would come back. What had he done?

TBC

[SweaterWeather]

Oh gosh I love this Poor Will! Poor Emma! This is how that sick episode should have gone lol

[TheCakeIsAlive]

Aww... I feel so bad for Will... awesomely written!

[floatmyboatt]

great story!

[tma]

Awwww!! *cuddles sickWill* He wasn't being mean... it would be Really, Really hard to try to "protect" her while feeling so awful. And it is Totally in his character for him to hate that now she is gone and that he made her feel bad.

This is just SO sweet.

[Evergreen]

((again, a warning on him getting sick, but it's only once. hope you all enjoy this update!))

Emma was full-on crying by the time she got into her car. The tears rolled down her cheeks with a vengeance, her mascara running messily, dirty saline droplets dripping onto her skirt in a way that was enough to frustrate her and gross her out. She soon found a tissue and pressed it to her face, attempting to clean herself up the best she could and waiting until the crying had stopped, although her puffy eyes and reddened cheeks served as a massive indicator of her meltdown. She drove away from Will’s without much direction and soon found herself in the CVS parking lot.

Sniffing, she analyzed her appearance in the mirror on the back of her car visor, fixing up her mascara and putting on some powder, where it looked as if she might only have allergies, something that made her shudder to even think about.

She was unsure of what she was going to get as she entered CVS, but she knew she couldn’t go back to Carl like this and she felt a nagging feeling like part of what had happened with Will was her fault. She was there to take care of him, and, yet, she was freaking out. He was just sick. She needed to go back. She had to prove to herself that she was capable of overcoming a phobia to take care of someone. Otherwise, how could she ever expect things to last with Carl? How could she expect to have a kid one day? This was something that needed to be done. Besides, Will was too sick to be left alone.

--

Will didn’t think Emma was going to return, and thus he made no effort to drag himself off the floor of the bathroom. He was in a doze as his front door opened, still sleeping fitfully as Emma walked down the hallway. It wasn’t until he heard the clack of her low heels right next to his head that he opened his eyes, the light causing his head to pulse with pain.

“Ebba,” he muttered feverishly. “I’b sorry.”

He had yet to look past her feet, but as she knelt next to him, he found her sudden closeness so shocking that he made himself glance upwards at her face, where he found she was wearing a facemask like doctors. He let out a soft chuckle, quickly sucking it back in as he saw Emma’s hurt face.

“Doh, doh, Ebba… I think it’s a brilliadt idea,” he muttered, his eyes closing heavily, but he could hear from her voice that she was smiling. She had one of the voices where you could just tell.

“You poor thing. You’re so si.. sick,” she said, forcing the word to pass her lips, grimacing like she had just tasted something gross.

“Doh, I’b okay,” he tried valiantly, but his nose had other plans. He was too weak to really cover his nose and so he merely turned his head, his body jerking at two exhausted-sounding sneezes: “Hitschh. Itsch’uh.”

“Bless you,” Emma said, her voice a little shaky, but this time she didn’t seem to freak out as much, although that could be because she had gloves on her hands and a facemask that she’d bought at CVS. There was no way germs were getting to her. They might get on her clothes, but that was nothing that a searing hot cycle of the washer with extra-strength detergent couldn’t solve.

“Ngg, thadks,” he slurred out, shivering.

“Hey, Will? You think you can get up?” she gently questioned, placing a nervous hand on his back, withdrawing it quickly as he tensed a little at her touch.

Even his fever-muddled mind wanted to prove to Emma he was fine even now when the room swam and he wasn’t quite sure of what time it was or how long he’d been lying on the floor. He imagined he probably had a pretty high fever. With one last attempt to be more manly than he felt right now, he sat up, trying to stand up, but the movement ignited a sick feeling within him, and he didn’t even have time to warn Emma as he lunged for the toilet.

She yelped in surprise, her breaths sounding erratic and scared, but she stayed put. The germs couldn’t get her, and even though the bathroom didn’t smell the most pleasant and even though seeing him hanging over the toilet did make her stomach squirm, she felt safer than she had earlier from whatever illness he had.

“Sorry, so sorry,” he whispered, resting his forehead on the rim of the toilet, his face covered in sweat.

“No, Will, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out. Now, let’s get you to your bed,” she said with a gulp, afraid he’d throw up while she was helping him, afraid he’d throw up on her.

“Okay,” he agreed, sitting up slowly and reaching for her in an almost drunken way.

“Easy there, Will,” Emma whispered as she helped him to his feet, surprised at how much he leaned upon her. “Hey, Will? Could you, uh, try not to throw up on me?” she asked, trying to quell her nerves on the subject.

He tried to snort a little with laughter, as if he would have let himself throw up on her even in his current state. The snorting or attempt thereof made his nose itch, though, so he held onto her tighter despite himself as he sneezed four times harshly: ”Ah’gnshh’uh. Uh’hutsch. Hutsch’schoo. Hutsch’uh. Gnshh’uh.”

When Will had first started to hold onto her tighter, she thought he was feeling sick and nearly dropped him in fear as he jerked forward a little. Never would she have thought she’d feel grateful for a sneeze, as it was one of the most disgusting things in terms of expelling germs, but she found herself smiling a little. Poor thing. “Bless you,” Emma offered, her voice not shaking at all as she lead Will into his bedroom, still supporting him as she peeled back the covers and deposited him into the bed. She pulled the covers over him, tucking him in obsessively, smoothing the covers over him and then grabbing a tissue and dabbing at his sweaty face.

“Better?” she asked, feeling more than a little proud of herself.

“Ngg, yeah. I love you, Ebba,” he muttered as he drifted off, and once again she was launched back into a world of fear.

TBC

[SweaterWeather]

YAY! That last part was ssoooo good!