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thegirl20TITLE: Too long in the wind, too long in the rain
AUTHOR:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
the_girl_20 (with help from voodoochild_101)
FANDOM: Glee / #Glitter
PAIRING: Terri/Emma, mentions of Terri/Will
SUMMARY: The week after Valentine's Day from Terri's POV.
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: ~4,500
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. They're Ryan Murphy's.
SPOILERS: None
AUTHORS' NOTES 1: Based on the Twitter based Role Play known as Glitter (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
the_glitter). Check out the twitter accounts of Terri and Emma.
AUTHORS' NOTES 2: This fic features guest appearances from Will (@dontstand_so), Finn (@reo_journeyman) and Kendra (position vacant).
AUTHORS' NOTES 3: This fic follows Valentine's Day - Terri, Valentine's Day - Emma and Let's hear your speech (this fic starts at the end of that one.)
It is a companion piece to Emma - The days are long, and the nights are yours alone and Back to Square One
~ Monday ~
After Emma leaves, Terri doesn’t bother to get out of bed for the rest of the day, except to let the dog out. She lays there, going over and over everything in her mind.
She plots out alternate visits to Will’s, where she was icy and strong and told him it was through between them for good. In one of them she serves him with divorce papers. She’s wearing a raincoat and sunglasses in that one for some reason. But she feels bad for Will, so she stops.
She imagines what might have happened if she just hadn’t told Emma. Those are nicer fantasies, at least for a while. Emma smiles at her in them. She tries to keep that picture in her head, instead of the way Emma looked as she was walking out the door.
Broken.
She buries her face in Emma’s pillow and tries to cry herself to sleep.
Only sleep doesn’t come. Tears do.
~ Tuesday ~
She sees every hour on the clock and by the time the sun is peeking through the curtains she decides she may as well get up. She can be miserable just as easily upright as she can lying down. She makes her way into the kitchen and the first thing her eyes land on is the cup of tea she made Emma yesterday. (Was it only yesterday?) It is sitting on the counter, untouched.
She walks out of the kitchen and leans back against the wall in the hallway. She’s finding it hard to breathe. She closes her eyes and gets her breathing back under control. She walks back into the kitchen and lifts the cup, dumping its contents into the sink and putting it into the dishwasher. Then she picks up a cloth and wipes down the counter. And the cabinets. And the stove.
There’s no harm in the place being clean. Just in case Emma should happen to drop by.
She's making the bed when she finds the damn, stupid stuffed tiger. The symbol of her infidelity. Part of her wants to throw it in the trash, but she doesn't. She sits it on top of the pillows once the bed is made. Shocking against the white bed linen.
~ Wednesday ~
She paces the living room like a caged animal. Six times she’s picked up her cellphone to dial his number and six times she’s put it down again. This feels like a further betrayal. Like all contact with him should be severed to show how remorseful she is. But it’s not like it’s a social call. It’s a practicality and nothing more. Still, her hand is shaking as she punches the familiar sequence of keys. Will picks up on the second ring.
"Hey." His voice is warm and feels like home. She closes her eyes.
"Hey."
"How are you?"
"I'm...fine, listen, I think Dog should come live with you. I got him for you, he's yours."
"Uh...sure. If you're sure. I mean...I know Emma's no-"
She can't listen to him talking about Emma, she cuts him off.
"So you can come and pick him up whenever suits you."
"Terri, listen...I'm really sorry about what happened. I was out of line and I should never have done what I did."
She stays silent for a whole minute, wishing she could agree, that she could blame everything on him.
"I could've stopped it," she says. "I should've stopped it way before I did. But I didn't."
"Ter, is everything OK with you and Emma? I saw her in school and she looks...well, I was going to say awful, but it's not that. She's just not herself. And I think she's avoiding me."
Terri swallows hard, struggling not to cry.
"I told her," she whispers.
He doesn't respond for a long time.
"I thought you might have," he says, finally. "And did she..."
"She walked out and I haven't seen or heard from her since," Terri says, wanting the conversation to be over. "So look, you know when I work...I don't think I'll be out apart from that so just let me know when you're coming around for the dog, OK?"
"Terri..."
"I have to go, Will," she says. "I'll see you later."
~ Thursday ~
The doorbell rings and she almost falls over herself rushing to answer it. She pauses before she opens the door, taking a moment to compose herself. It isn't Emma.
"Finn! Oh...I wasn’t expecting you."
"Hey Mrs Schue!" he says, smiling his kind smile. "I just wanted to bring by the craft stuff I borrowed."
He holds up a bag and she takes a second to remember that she loaned him a few bits and pieces for his Valentine's date with Brittany.
"Oh, you didn't have to bring it back," she says. "Do you want to...come in for a sec? I have some lemonade..."
She trails off, realising that she's craving company and that she really shouldn't be inviting him into her house alone. It doesn't seem to bother him.
"Sure, that'd be cool, I was out running so I'm kinda thirsty."
He steps over the threshold and immediately removes his shoes. She smiles at his manners.
"I'll get your drink. You can go put the stuff back in the craft room, you know where it is."
She walks to the kitchen to pour them both a drink.
"Did you and Brittany have fun?" she calls out as she puts the glasses on a tray.
"Uh...yeah, it was real...fun, Mrs S. Thanks."
She smirks at the hesitance in his voice. They obviously had more fun with each other than with the craft project. She takes the tray through to the living room where he's standing awkwardly. She hands him a glass.
"Thanks. And hey, I saw your new glue gun in the craft room. That’s awesome, huh?" he enthuses.
Her smile freezes at the mention of the gift.
"Uh...yeah, yeah it is," she manages, through a tight throat.
He tilts his head and looks at her.
"Mrs S...are you OK? I mean, don't take this the wrong way or anything but you look kinda...sad."
She looks up at him and his face is full of such genuine concern that she can't help herself. She moves forward and wraps her arms around his waist. She needs human contact. She needs the comfort, even though she knows she doesn't deserve it. She presses her face against his shoulder. He wraps the arm that's not holding his drink around her and puts his cheek on her head. She feels him inhale deeply and she feels awful for making him uncomfortable. But she doesn't let go.
"Mrs Schue..." he begins, his voice tentative. "Do you want me to maybe call somebody? Mr Schue? Or Miss P?"
She squeezes her eyes closed and steps back, smiling brightly.
"No, I'm fine. I'm sorry, you're right, I was just a little sad there for a minute, but I'm fine now," she says, taking the glass out of his hand and ushering him in the direction of the door. "Anyway, thanks for stopping by and dropping the stuff off, I'm sure you've got better places to be than here."
She's got the door open now and he barely has time to grab his shoes before she's bundled him through it.
"Are you sure you're ok-"
"I'm fine, Finn," she states, firmly. "But...thank you, for asking."
He smiles, confused.
"OK then...if you're sure," he says, backing away. "Bye Mrs Schue."
"Goodbye, Finn," she says, closing the door and leaning her head against it.
~ Friday ~
She sits on the couch with the dog on her lap. His bed and bowl and other bits and pieces are in a box by the door for when Will comes to get him. The little thing seems to have picked up on her mood and is sitting looking at her with his big brown eyes. She shakes her head at him.
“You can’t stay here, I’m in no state to look after you. I’m in no state to look after myself. You need to go to Will’s. He’ll take you out running and throw sticks for you and do other things masters are supposed to do for their dogs. I’ll just cry and hug you a lot. You don’t want that.”
The puppy continues to look at her.
“Really, you’ll be better off there. I promise.”
The doorbell rings. She kisses Dog on the head, rubbing her nose into his fur for a moment. She stands up and places him on the floor. He trots along beside her as she heads into the hallway. When she opens the door, Dog makes a beeline for Will and jumps up at his legs, yipping excitedly. Will stoops to pick him up.
“Hey boy! Long time no see, huh?” he says, letting the puppy lick his face.
Terri can’t help but smile at the cute scene. Will looks at her and sighs.
“You look awful, Terri,” he says.
“Gee, thanks, Will,” she says, raising a sardonic eyebrow. “Nice to see you, too.”
“I mean it…are you eating?” he says, shifting the excited puppy to his other arm. “You’ve lost weight.”
“I haven’t been hungry,” she says, shrugging.
“Look, I know you’re upset but you’re gonna make yourself sick if you keep this up,” Will says.
“Oh, ‘cause I’m doing it on purpose, Will,” she spits, bitterly. “Do you think I’m like this through choice? You’d think I’d be used to it by now...people are always walking out on me.”
She knows she’s being unfair and unreasonable. She doesn’t particularly care. Will, for his part, is as patient and understanding as ever. He puts Dog down and reaches out to touch her shoulder. She shrinks away from him, unable to accept his comfort. He drops his hand to his side but dips his head to catch her eye.
“People may walk away, Terri, but that doesn’t mean they stop loving you.”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head, but he’s not finished.
“I tried to not love you, Terri, I really did. But I couldn’t...and I’m pretty sure she’ll be the same. She just needs some time.”
Tears leak past her closed eyelids as she shakes her head harder. He should be bitter and twisted and revelling in this turn of events.
“God, why are you like this?” she whispers, finally looking at him again. “Why are you being so nice?”
He shrugs, a sad smile making its way across his lips.
“That’s what I do, right? I’m the nice guy,” he says, his eyes shining.
This is not a good situation. Both hurting, both vulnerable, both in need of comfort. She needs to shut it down, now. She turns away and drags the box she’d prepared to the door.
“So...all of his stuff is here, there’s some food in there, and the blanket that he likes sleeping on...although he likes sleeping in the laundry basket too...”
“Terri, let me come in and make something for you to eat. For my own peace of mind, if nothing else,” Will says, cutting her off.
She puts her arm across the door, barring his way. He takes a step backwards, surprised by her reaction.
“Will, you can’t come in here. If you come in here and start cooking it’s...it’s gonna be like...well, it’s going to be familiar and comfortable and that’s...I can’t deal with that right now.”
If he comes in, she doesn’t know what she’ll do. And she’s pretty sure Emma will never forgive her. And she wouldn’t blame her.
“Then I’ll take you for a burger or something, we’ll go to the drive-thru,” he says, not letting up. “We don’t have to talk or do anything you don’t want to, but I’m not leaving you until you eat something.”
He folds his arms across his chest. Something bumps against her legs and she looks down to see Dog looking back at her, pawing at her legs.
“You’re ganging up on me,” she mutters, shifting her gaze back to Will. She sighs. “Fine. I’ll grab a jacket.”
True to his word, the journey passes mostly in silence. They get burgers and fries and milkshakes and eat them in the parking lot of the burger joint, watching the comings and goings and trying to keep the puppy out of the food. Terri finds that once she starts eating, she’s ravenous. She devours her meal in record time and starts to steal Will’s fries until he finally just hands over the whole box. She turns to smile at him.
“Thanks...oh,” she says, her eyes drawn to his chin where a glob of ketchup is sitting in the cleft, in danger of dripping onto his shirt.
“What?” he asks, around a mouthful of burger.
“You have a little...” she indicates her own chin. “Ketchup.”
He shifts his burger into one hand and awkwardly rubs at the side of his chin, missing the ketchup completely. She sighs and reaches over instinctively, her fingers curl under his chin as her thumb swipes the blemish away. They both freeze.
Terri takes her hand away and wipes it on a paper napkin. She keeps her eyes on her hands as she speaks.
“I think we should go now.”
He nods. The drive back to her place is completely silent. When he pulls up to the kerb she has the door open before the car has stopped completely.
“Terri, wait,” Will says, grabbing her wrist.
She pauses but doesn’t turn.
“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself?” he says, softly. “I’ll come by and check up on you.”
She does turn at this.
“No, don’t,” she begs. “Don’t come again. It’s...it’s too hard, Will.”
He looks down at his lap.
“OK, if that’s what you want,” he says.
She watches him for a moment, aching to comfort him. Eventually she reaches over and touches his face, urging him to look at her. She keeps her hand on his cheek, her thumb rubbing gently.
“I love you, Will...and I’m so grateful that you’re here now and that you care,” her voice falters. “It’s just...it’s too hard.”
She searches his eyes for understanding. He nods. Then he leans across and brushes his lips across hers, barely making contact. She strains not to move with him and push for more. He takes her hand off his face and places it in her lap, replacing his own hands on the wheel. He stares straight ahead.
“Then I guess this is goodbye,” he says.
She swallows hard against the lump in her throat.
“It’s not like I want this, Wi-“
“Yes, you do,” he cuts her off. “You want her, so it has to be this way. It’s fine. You should go.”
She can hear the emotion in his voice, underneath his blunt words. She turns and gets out of the car. She goes to swing the door closed but catches it before it slams. She bends down to look inside.
“I have no right to ask this,” she begins, her voice thick. “But if you could...could you just...check on her at school? Make sure she’s OK?”
He lets out a disbelieving huff.
“I know, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” she says, hurriedly. “Goodbye Will. Thank you.”
She does close the door this time. As she watches the car drive away, she’s never felt more alone in her life. But somewhere in her heart, she believes that he will check on her. Because that’s what he does.
~ Saturday ~
When the doorbell rings she drags herself up from the couch with very little enthusiasm. She’s stopped hoping for it to be Emma. And if it’s not Emma, she doesn’t care much who it is. Still, she’s surprised when she opens the door to find Kendra standing there. Kendra takes in her appearance for a moment.
“Jesus, Terri, you look like shit!”
Without further discussion, she breezes past Terri into the apartment and Terri closes the door. She really doesn’t want to face this right now. Kendra’s got her head in the fridge by the time Terri makes it into the kitchen.
“Terri…you’re out of wine,” Kendra proclaims in a slightly disbelieving tone. She’s probably never encountered this situation before, Terri thinks.
“Yeah, I haven’t been drinking lately,” Terri says, leaning back against the counter.
Kendra pauses in her rummaging.
“Well, that’s just not healthy,” Kendra stands up and appraises her sister for a long moment. “Terri, it’s been months since Will left. And let’s face it, he wasn’t that great when he was here. I really think it’s about time you were over him.”
Terri chooses to ignore this, unwilling to get into a discussion about Will’s lack of attributes. Kendra never liked Will.
“Where’ve you been, anyway? I haven’t seen you since before Christmas,” Terri asks, rolling her eyes as Kendra locates a bottle of vodka hidden deep in the freezer.
Kendra turns to face her and holds up a hand.
“You don’t even want to know, it’s been a nightmare,” she says, pouring herself a tumbler of neat vodka and taking a drink. She doesn’t even wince. “I made Phil get me some plastic surgery for Christmas, and because he’s cheap, he sent me to a butcher. The procedure went wrong, it got infected, it was a whole big mess.”
Terri’s moving towards her.
“Oh, honey! Why didn’t you call me?” she says, putting a hand on Kendra’s arm.
Kendra shakes her head.
“I was on so many drugs, I couldn’t have picked you out of a line up,” Kendra says.
Terri looks at her closely; she doesn’t see any visible evidence of this apparent trauma.
“What...uh...what was the procedure?” she asks.
“Oh, just a little vaginoplasty,” Kendra says, as if she’s describing a trip to the salon to have her nails done. “I figure that my lips down there should be as pretty as the ones on my face, right?”
Terri blanches slightly at the thought of this, but smiles supportively.
“Oh...well...that’s nice...that you wanna be pretty for Phil,” she offers.
“Oh God! As if it’s for Phil,” Kendra sputters, almost choking on her vodka. “It’s just for me to feel good about myself. I don’t care what he has to look at when he’s down there.”
She sighs and refills her glass.
“So, anyway, when that cleared up there was the whole police investigation thing and I was under house arrest.”
“Police...investigation?” she ventures, not really sure she wants to hear.
Kendra rolls her eyes and takes another long drink from her glass.
“It was a big fuss over nothing. They accused me of sending obscene pictures via Twitter. That’s why my account got suspended, can you believe that?” she asks, gesturing wildly with her glass, almost spilling the contents.
Terri shrugs.
“And were you sending obscene pictures?”
Kendra fixes her with a withering glare.
“No, I was not. They were tasteful pictures of me in various poses. And I only sent them to Nathan Fillion. And only on Direct Messages. I have no idea how the cops even found out!”
Terri is too tired and too sad to care much about this.
“I’m going to sit down, you coming?” she asks, heading for the living room.
“I can’t sit down yet. Things are still a bit tender down there,” Kendra says, following her anyway and shaking her head as Terri collapses onto the couch.
“Seriously Terri, he’s obviously not coming back. It’s time to get back on the horse,” Kendra announces.
Terri turns her face into one of the cushions. That’s the last thing she wants to think about. Kendra continues, oblivious.
“Phil has clients. Most of ‘em are ugly but they’re pretty rich,” she says. “I can get you set up with a couple of them and we can take it from there. You’ll have to do something about your face first though…I could go on a round the world cruise with the baggage that’s under your eyes.”
She’s had enough. She lifts her head and looks Kendra straight in the eye.
“I’m sorry my appearance offends you, Kendra. And for the love of God, do not set me up with Phil’s rich, ugly clients. I just want to stay here and be sad, is that OK with you?” she asks.
Kendra’s not really used to Terri talking back and it throws her a little.
“All I’m saying is that Will isn’t the only ma-“
“It’s not about Will!” Terri screams, finally letting out all of her anger and frustration at the situation that she’s created.
She stands up, approaching Kendra, jabbing her in the chest with a finger.
“But you wouldn’t know that, would you? No. Because you haven’t been around. For your information, Sis, I did get back on the horse. I was seeing someone…someone so lovely and perfect…and I fucked it all up. Again.”
Kendra is unperturbed by the fact that Terri is practically incandescent with rage and instead focuses on the part that interests her.
“You were seeing someone else?” she asks, her eyes wide and hungry for gossip. “Who is he? Do I know him? What’s his name?”
Terri’s chest is heaving after her rant and she stands in silence, listening to the sound of her breath for a moment before she responds.
“Emma.”
“Kinda girly name, but that’s OK. Is he Italian?” Kendra asks, then her face scrunches up in thought. “Why do I feel like I know an ‘Emma’.”
“Emma Pillsbury. The woman Will was chasing all last year? The one we spied on before Christmas? That’s who I was seeing,”
Her hands are on her hips, daring Kendra to say something. Kendra, for her part, is stunned into silence for a brief moment.
“So…you were seeing the woman your husband left you for?” she says slowly, trying to wrap her brain around it.
“Yes.”
“Obviously this was so that you could get close to her and destroy her, right?”
“No,” Terri decides to go all in. “I’m in love with her.”
Kendra stares at her blankly.
“I need another drink.”
Kendra walks out of the room and Terri’s stomach clenches in panic. Kendra is the last person she should have told about this. She flashes back to a conversation in which she promised Emma that she wouldn’t let Kendra murder her. She may well have to deliver on that promise now.
Kendra comes back in with a tall glass filled to the brim with clear liquid which is far more likely to be vodka than water. Terri waits for her sister to speak first. Kendra does not disappoint.
“So, clearly she’s done something to you. You’re not thinking straight," she pauses to laugh at her unintentional pun. "Literally!”
“I’m thinking just fine,” Terri argues. “I love her.”
Kendra continues as if Terri hasn’t spoken.
“I think that little harlot’s worked some kinda voodoo on you. She looks like she could be a witch, ya know. You should never trust people with red-hair, they’re always real bad news.”
“All of your kids have red-hair,” Terri reasons.
“Exactly,” Kendra says, then pauses, thinking. “So...wait, you said you fucked it up? How’d you do that?”
Terri sighs.
“I...cheated on her. I kissed Will.”
Kendra tuts.
“Well, how is that even cheating? He’s your husband. It’s completely impossible to cheat with your own husband. Little Miss Bambi-Eyes is obviously expecting far too much from you,” she says. “I think I should have a word with her...help her to see things a bit more clearly...”
Terri’s head whips around.
“No,” she says, her voice carrying a distinct warning. “You will not go near her. You will stay far away from her. None of this is her fault and the last thing I need is you going and threatening her. I’m trying to get her back.”
Kendra tilts her head and smiles sympathetically, when she speaks, she sounds like she’s talking to someone with reduced mental capacity.
“Sweetie, I think you need to get some sleep, you’re delusional,” she says, putting her hand on Terri’s shoulder.
Terri shrugs her off.
“Promise me you’ll stay away from her. You won’t call her. You won’t go round to her place. You won’t send her any form of threatening message,” she says, trying to cover all the bases. “Promise me you’ll leave her alone.”
Kendra nods, still wearing that condescending expression.
“OK, honey, I promise,” she says, bending to rummage in her purse. She pulls out a bottle of pills and rattles them in Terri’s face.
“What are those?” Terri asks, warily.
“Oh, just some sleeping pills, I’m sure you’ll start thinking better if you just get some sleep,” Kendra says, already popping the cap and pouring pills into her hand. She hands Terri two of them.
“Two of these babies will knock you right out and you’ll wake up fresh as a daisy,” Kendra assures her.
Terri looks at the pills in her hand. She really, really needs to sleep. She tips them into her mouth and swallows.
“I’m just gonna leave the bottle here for you, I got plenty at home,” Kendra says. “And Terri, we’re gonna talk more about this when you’re less...gay about the whole thing, OK?”
The side of Terri’s mouth turns up in a smile.
“Yeah, OK,” she agrees.
*
After Kendra's gone the apartment is overbearingly quiet. She walks through the empty rooms, switching off the lights and trying to fight the fuzziness in her head. She really should have looked at the bottle before taking anything Kendra offered her.
Out of nowhere, she’s hit with the need to say goodnight to Emma. Even if Emma can’t hear her say it. She grabs her phone and curls up on the couch.
~ Sunday ~
She wakes up slowly, with a strange sense of contentment resting somewhere in her chest. Those pills really must’ve worked. She slept right through the night, and she seems to recall having very pleasant dreams. Emma was in them, right here in the apartment.
Her brow scrunches up. That dream seems particularly vivid, especially for one experienced while drugged. She can remember the feel of Emma’s fingers on her skin. She also has a vague recollection of talking to Emma’s voicemail...
She pushes herself to her feet, heading into the kitchen to put some coffee on to clear her head. She picks it out immediately, a bright pink post-it on the counter. She picks it up with a shaking hand.
Dear Terri,
You weren't dreaming. I'm not going to elaborate on that. You know what I'm talking about.
I flushed the pills down the toilet. I don't want you to make a habit out of taking them just so you can fall asleep or so you can scare me into coming over so you can see me. That can't happen again.
I was going to leave your key... But I needed to lock the door behind me on the way back out. I'll drop it off sometime this week.
Please take care of yourself, Terri.
Emma.
Terri sits down heavily at the kitchen table, the note still in her hand. She reads it again. And again. And she starts to smile. Emma still cares.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Terri resolves to do everything in her power to win Emma back. She stands up and walks through to the living room, grabbing her laptop on the way. She fires it up and opens her e-mail. And she starts writing.
TO: emma.pillsbury@aol.com
SUBJECT: Thank you
OK, so I don’t know if you’ll read this, but you obviously got my message last night so I have to admit I’m kinda hopeful that you will...
AUTHOR:
the_girl_20 (with help from voodoochild_101)FANDOM: Glee / #Glitter
PAIRING: Terri/Emma, mentions of Terri/Will
SUMMARY: The week after Valentine's Day from Terri's POV.
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: ~4,500
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. They're Ryan Murphy's.
SPOILERS: None
AUTHORS' NOTES 1: Based on the Twitter based Role Play known as Glitter (
the_glitter). Check out the twitter accounts of Terri and Emma.AUTHORS' NOTES 2: This fic features guest appearances from Will (@dontstand_so), Finn (@reo_journeyman) and Kendra (position vacant).
AUTHORS' NOTES 3: This fic follows Valentine's Day - Terri, Valentine's Day - Emma and Let's hear your speech (this fic starts at the end of that one.)
It is a companion piece to Emma - The days are long, and the nights are yours alone and Back to Square One
~ Monday ~
After Emma leaves, Terri doesn’t bother to get out of bed for the rest of the day, except to let the dog out. She lays there, going over and over everything in her mind.
She plots out alternate visits to Will’s, where she was icy and strong and told him it was through between them for good. In one of them she serves him with divorce papers. She’s wearing a raincoat and sunglasses in that one for some reason. But she feels bad for Will, so she stops.
She imagines what might have happened if she just hadn’t told Emma. Those are nicer fantasies, at least for a while. Emma smiles at her in them. She tries to keep that picture in her head, instead of the way Emma looked as she was walking out the door.
Broken.
She buries her face in Emma’s pillow and tries to cry herself to sleep.
Only sleep doesn’t come. Tears do.
~ Tuesday ~
She sees every hour on the clock and by the time the sun is peeking through the curtains she decides she may as well get up. She can be miserable just as easily upright as she can lying down. She makes her way into the kitchen and the first thing her eyes land on is the cup of tea she made Emma yesterday. (Was it only yesterday?) It is sitting on the counter, untouched.
She walks out of the kitchen and leans back against the wall in the hallway. She’s finding it hard to breathe. She closes her eyes and gets her breathing back under control. She walks back into the kitchen and lifts the cup, dumping its contents into the sink and putting it into the dishwasher. Then she picks up a cloth and wipes down the counter. And the cabinets. And the stove.
There’s no harm in the place being clean. Just in case Emma should happen to drop by.
She's making the bed when she finds the damn, stupid stuffed tiger. The symbol of her infidelity. Part of her wants to throw it in the trash, but she doesn't. She sits it on top of the pillows once the bed is made. Shocking against the white bed linen.
~ Wednesday ~
She paces the living room like a caged animal. Six times she’s picked up her cellphone to dial his number and six times she’s put it down again. This feels like a further betrayal. Like all contact with him should be severed to show how remorseful she is. But it’s not like it’s a social call. It’s a practicality and nothing more. Still, her hand is shaking as she punches the familiar sequence of keys. Will picks up on the second ring.
"Hey." His voice is warm and feels like home. She closes her eyes.
"Hey."
"How are you?"
"I'm...fine, listen, I think Dog should come live with you. I got him for you, he's yours."
"Uh...sure. If you're sure. I mean...I know Emma's no-"
She can't listen to him talking about Emma, she cuts him off.
"So you can come and pick him up whenever suits you."
"Terri, listen...I'm really sorry about what happened. I was out of line and I should never have done what I did."
She stays silent for a whole minute, wishing she could agree, that she could blame everything on him.
"I could've stopped it," she says. "I should've stopped it way before I did. But I didn't."
"Ter, is everything OK with you and Emma? I saw her in school and she looks...well, I was going to say awful, but it's not that. She's just not herself. And I think she's avoiding me."
Terri swallows hard, struggling not to cry.
"I told her," she whispers.
He doesn't respond for a long time.
"I thought you might have," he says, finally. "And did she..."
"She walked out and I haven't seen or heard from her since," Terri says, wanting the conversation to be over. "So look, you know when I work...I don't think I'll be out apart from that so just let me know when you're coming around for the dog, OK?"
"Terri..."
"I have to go, Will," she says. "I'll see you later."
~ Thursday ~
The doorbell rings and she almost falls over herself rushing to answer it. She pauses before she opens the door, taking a moment to compose herself. It isn't Emma.
"Finn! Oh...I wasn’t expecting you."
"Hey Mrs Schue!" he says, smiling his kind smile. "I just wanted to bring by the craft stuff I borrowed."
He holds up a bag and she takes a second to remember that she loaned him a few bits and pieces for his Valentine's date with Brittany.
"Oh, you didn't have to bring it back," she says. "Do you want to...come in for a sec? I have some lemonade..."
She trails off, realising that she's craving company and that she really shouldn't be inviting him into her house alone. It doesn't seem to bother him.
"Sure, that'd be cool, I was out running so I'm kinda thirsty."
He steps over the threshold and immediately removes his shoes. She smiles at his manners.
"I'll get your drink. You can go put the stuff back in the craft room, you know where it is."
She walks to the kitchen to pour them both a drink.
"Did you and Brittany have fun?" she calls out as she puts the glasses on a tray.
"Uh...yeah, it was real...fun, Mrs S. Thanks."
She smirks at the hesitance in his voice. They obviously had more fun with each other than with the craft project. She takes the tray through to the living room where he's standing awkwardly. She hands him a glass.
"Thanks. And hey, I saw your new glue gun in the craft room. That’s awesome, huh?" he enthuses.
Her smile freezes at the mention of the gift.
"Uh...yeah, yeah it is," she manages, through a tight throat.
He tilts his head and looks at her.
"Mrs S...are you OK? I mean, don't take this the wrong way or anything but you look kinda...sad."
She looks up at him and his face is full of such genuine concern that she can't help herself. She moves forward and wraps her arms around his waist. She needs human contact. She needs the comfort, even though she knows she doesn't deserve it. She presses her face against his shoulder. He wraps the arm that's not holding his drink around her and puts his cheek on her head. She feels him inhale deeply and she feels awful for making him uncomfortable. But she doesn't let go.
"Mrs Schue..." he begins, his voice tentative. "Do you want me to maybe call somebody? Mr Schue? Or Miss P?"
She squeezes her eyes closed and steps back, smiling brightly.
"No, I'm fine. I'm sorry, you're right, I was just a little sad there for a minute, but I'm fine now," she says, taking the glass out of his hand and ushering him in the direction of the door. "Anyway, thanks for stopping by and dropping the stuff off, I'm sure you've got better places to be than here."
She's got the door open now and he barely has time to grab his shoes before she's bundled him through it.
"Are you sure you're ok-"
"I'm fine, Finn," she states, firmly. "But...thank you, for asking."
He smiles, confused.
"OK then...if you're sure," he says, backing away. "Bye Mrs Schue."
"Goodbye, Finn," she says, closing the door and leaning her head against it.
~ Friday ~
She sits on the couch with the dog on her lap. His bed and bowl and other bits and pieces are in a box by the door for when Will comes to get him. The little thing seems to have picked up on her mood and is sitting looking at her with his big brown eyes. She shakes her head at him.
“You can’t stay here, I’m in no state to look after you. I’m in no state to look after myself. You need to go to Will’s. He’ll take you out running and throw sticks for you and do other things masters are supposed to do for their dogs. I’ll just cry and hug you a lot. You don’t want that.”
The puppy continues to look at her.
“Really, you’ll be better off there. I promise.”
The doorbell rings. She kisses Dog on the head, rubbing her nose into his fur for a moment. She stands up and places him on the floor. He trots along beside her as she heads into the hallway. When she opens the door, Dog makes a beeline for Will and jumps up at his legs, yipping excitedly. Will stoops to pick him up.
“Hey boy! Long time no see, huh?” he says, letting the puppy lick his face.
Terri can’t help but smile at the cute scene. Will looks at her and sighs.
“You look awful, Terri,” he says.
“Gee, thanks, Will,” she says, raising a sardonic eyebrow. “Nice to see you, too.”
“I mean it…are you eating?” he says, shifting the excited puppy to his other arm. “You’ve lost weight.”
“I haven’t been hungry,” she says, shrugging.
“Look, I know you’re upset but you’re gonna make yourself sick if you keep this up,” Will says.
“Oh, ‘cause I’m doing it on purpose, Will,” she spits, bitterly. “Do you think I’m like this through choice? You’d think I’d be used to it by now...people are always walking out on me.”
She knows she’s being unfair and unreasonable. She doesn’t particularly care. Will, for his part, is as patient and understanding as ever. He puts Dog down and reaches out to touch her shoulder. She shrinks away from him, unable to accept his comfort. He drops his hand to his side but dips his head to catch her eye.
“People may walk away, Terri, but that doesn’t mean they stop loving you.”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head, but he’s not finished.
“I tried to not love you, Terri, I really did. But I couldn’t...and I’m pretty sure she’ll be the same. She just needs some time.”
Tears leak past her closed eyelids as she shakes her head harder. He should be bitter and twisted and revelling in this turn of events.
“God, why are you like this?” she whispers, finally looking at him again. “Why are you being so nice?”
He shrugs, a sad smile making its way across his lips.
“That’s what I do, right? I’m the nice guy,” he says, his eyes shining.
This is not a good situation. Both hurting, both vulnerable, both in need of comfort. She needs to shut it down, now. She turns away and drags the box she’d prepared to the door.
“So...all of his stuff is here, there’s some food in there, and the blanket that he likes sleeping on...although he likes sleeping in the laundry basket too...”
“Terri, let me come in and make something for you to eat. For my own peace of mind, if nothing else,” Will says, cutting her off.
She puts her arm across the door, barring his way. He takes a step backwards, surprised by her reaction.
“Will, you can’t come in here. If you come in here and start cooking it’s...it’s gonna be like...well, it’s going to be familiar and comfortable and that’s...I can’t deal with that right now.”
If he comes in, she doesn’t know what she’ll do. And she’s pretty sure Emma will never forgive her. And she wouldn’t blame her.
“Then I’ll take you for a burger or something, we’ll go to the drive-thru,” he says, not letting up. “We don’t have to talk or do anything you don’t want to, but I’m not leaving you until you eat something.”
He folds his arms across his chest. Something bumps against her legs and she looks down to see Dog looking back at her, pawing at her legs.
“You’re ganging up on me,” she mutters, shifting her gaze back to Will. She sighs. “Fine. I’ll grab a jacket.”
True to his word, the journey passes mostly in silence. They get burgers and fries and milkshakes and eat them in the parking lot of the burger joint, watching the comings and goings and trying to keep the puppy out of the food. Terri finds that once she starts eating, she’s ravenous. She devours her meal in record time and starts to steal Will’s fries until he finally just hands over the whole box. She turns to smile at him.
“Thanks...oh,” she says, her eyes drawn to his chin where a glob of ketchup is sitting in the cleft, in danger of dripping onto his shirt.
“What?” he asks, around a mouthful of burger.
“You have a little...” she indicates her own chin. “Ketchup.”
He shifts his burger into one hand and awkwardly rubs at the side of his chin, missing the ketchup completely. She sighs and reaches over instinctively, her fingers curl under his chin as her thumb swipes the blemish away. They both freeze.
Terri takes her hand away and wipes it on a paper napkin. She keeps her eyes on her hands as she speaks.
“I think we should go now.”
He nods. The drive back to her place is completely silent. When he pulls up to the kerb she has the door open before the car has stopped completely.
“Terri, wait,” Will says, grabbing her wrist.
She pauses but doesn’t turn.
“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself?” he says, softly. “I’ll come by and check up on you.”
She does turn at this.
“No, don’t,” she begs. “Don’t come again. It’s...it’s too hard, Will.”
He looks down at his lap.
“OK, if that’s what you want,” he says.
She watches him for a moment, aching to comfort him. Eventually she reaches over and touches his face, urging him to look at her. She keeps her hand on his cheek, her thumb rubbing gently.
“I love you, Will...and I’m so grateful that you’re here now and that you care,” her voice falters. “It’s just...it’s too hard.”
She searches his eyes for understanding. He nods. Then he leans across and brushes his lips across hers, barely making contact. She strains not to move with him and push for more. He takes her hand off his face and places it in her lap, replacing his own hands on the wheel. He stares straight ahead.
“Then I guess this is goodbye,” he says.
She swallows hard against the lump in her throat.
“It’s not like I want this, Wi-“
“Yes, you do,” he cuts her off. “You want her, so it has to be this way. It’s fine. You should go.”
She can hear the emotion in his voice, underneath his blunt words. She turns and gets out of the car. She goes to swing the door closed but catches it before it slams. She bends down to look inside.
“I have no right to ask this,” she begins, her voice thick. “But if you could...could you just...check on her at school? Make sure she’s OK?”
He lets out a disbelieving huff.
“I know, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” she says, hurriedly. “Goodbye Will. Thank you.”
She does close the door this time. As she watches the car drive away, she’s never felt more alone in her life. But somewhere in her heart, she believes that he will check on her. Because that’s what he does.
~ Saturday ~
When the doorbell rings she drags herself up from the couch with very little enthusiasm. She’s stopped hoping for it to be Emma. And if it’s not Emma, she doesn’t care much who it is. Still, she’s surprised when she opens the door to find Kendra standing there. Kendra takes in her appearance for a moment.
“Jesus, Terri, you look like shit!”
Without further discussion, she breezes past Terri into the apartment and Terri closes the door. She really doesn’t want to face this right now. Kendra’s got her head in the fridge by the time Terri makes it into the kitchen.
“Terri…you’re out of wine,” Kendra proclaims in a slightly disbelieving tone. She’s probably never encountered this situation before, Terri thinks.
“Yeah, I haven’t been drinking lately,” Terri says, leaning back against the counter.
Kendra pauses in her rummaging.
“Well, that’s just not healthy,” Kendra stands up and appraises her sister for a long moment. “Terri, it’s been months since Will left. And let’s face it, he wasn’t that great when he was here. I really think it’s about time you were over him.”
Terri chooses to ignore this, unwilling to get into a discussion about Will’s lack of attributes. Kendra never liked Will.
“Where’ve you been, anyway? I haven’t seen you since before Christmas,” Terri asks, rolling her eyes as Kendra locates a bottle of vodka hidden deep in the freezer.
Kendra turns to face her and holds up a hand.
“You don’t even want to know, it’s been a nightmare,” she says, pouring herself a tumbler of neat vodka and taking a drink. She doesn’t even wince. “I made Phil get me some plastic surgery for Christmas, and because he’s cheap, he sent me to a butcher. The procedure went wrong, it got infected, it was a whole big mess.”
Terri’s moving towards her.
“Oh, honey! Why didn’t you call me?” she says, putting a hand on Kendra’s arm.
Kendra shakes her head.
“I was on so many drugs, I couldn’t have picked you out of a line up,” Kendra says.
Terri looks at her closely; she doesn’t see any visible evidence of this apparent trauma.
“What...uh...what was the procedure?” she asks.
“Oh, just a little vaginoplasty,” Kendra says, as if she’s describing a trip to the salon to have her nails done. “I figure that my lips down there should be as pretty as the ones on my face, right?”
Terri blanches slightly at the thought of this, but smiles supportively.
“Oh...well...that’s nice...that you wanna be pretty for Phil,” she offers.
“Oh God! As if it’s for Phil,” Kendra sputters, almost choking on her vodka. “It’s just for me to feel good about myself. I don’t care what he has to look at when he’s down there.”
She sighs and refills her glass.
“So, anyway, when that cleared up there was the whole police investigation thing and I was under house arrest.”
“Police...investigation?” she ventures, not really sure she wants to hear.
Kendra rolls her eyes and takes another long drink from her glass.
“It was a big fuss over nothing. They accused me of sending obscene pictures via Twitter. That’s why my account got suspended, can you believe that?” she asks, gesturing wildly with her glass, almost spilling the contents.
Terri shrugs.
“And were you sending obscene pictures?”
Kendra fixes her with a withering glare.
“No, I was not. They were tasteful pictures of me in various poses. And I only sent them to Nathan Fillion. And only on Direct Messages. I have no idea how the cops even found out!”
Terri is too tired and too sad to care much about this.
“I’m going to sit down, you coming?” she asks, heading for the living room.
“I can’t sit down yet. Things are still a bit tender down there,” Kendra says, following her anyway and shaking her head as Terri collapses onto the couch.
“Seriously Terri, he’s obviously not coming back. It’s time to get back on the horse,” Kendra announces.
Terri turns her face into one of the cushions. That’s the last thing she wants to think about. Kendra continues, oblivious.
“Phil has clients. Most of ‘em are ugly but they’re pretty rich,” she says. “I can get you set up with a couple of them and we can take it from there. You’ll have to do something about your face first though…I could go on a round the world cruise with the baggage that’s under your eyes.”
She’s had enough. She lifts her head and looks Kendra straight in the eye.
“I’m sorry my appearance offends you, Kendra. And for the love of God, do not set me up with Phil’s rich, ugly clients. I just want to stay here and be sad, is that OK with you?” she asks.
Kendra’s not really used to Terri talking back and it throws her a little.
“All I’m saying is that Will isn’t the only ma-“
“It’s not about Will!” Terri screams, finally letting out all of her anger and frustration at the situation that she’s created.
She stands up, approaching Kendra, jabbing her in the chest with a finger.
“But you wouldn’t know that, would you? No. Because you haven’t been around. For your information, Sis, I did get back on the horse. I was seeing someone…someone so lovely and perfect…and I fucked it all up. Again.”
Kendra is unperturbed by the fact that Terri is practically incandescent with rage and instead focuses on the part that interests her.
“You were seeing someone else?” she asks, her eyes wide and hungry for gossip. “Who is he? Do I know him? What’s his name?”
Terri’s chest is heaving after her rant and she stands in silence, listening to the sound of her breath for a moment before she responds.
“Emma.”
“Kinda girly name, but that’s OK. Is he Italian?” Kendra asks, then her face scrunches up in thought. “Why do I feel like I know an ‘Emma’.”
“Emma Pillsbury. The woman Will was chasing all last year? The one we spied on before Christmas? That’s who I was seeing,”
Her hands are on her hips, daring Kendra to say something. Kendra, for her part, is stunned into silence for a brief moment.
“So…you were seeing the woman your husband left you for?” she says slowly, trying to wrap her brain around it.
“Yes.”
“Obviously this was so that you could get close to her and destroy her, right?”
“No,” Terri decides to go all in. “I’m in love with her.”
Kendra stares at her blankly.
“I need another drink.”
Kendra walks out of the room and Terri’s stomach clenches in panic. Kendra is the last person she should have told about this. She flashes back to a conversation in which she promised Emma that she wouldn’t let Kendra murder her. She may well have to deliver on that promise now.
Kendra comes back in with a tall glass filled to the brim with clear liquid which is far more likely to be vodka than water. Terri waits for her sister to speak first. Kendra does not disappoint.
“So, clearly she’s done something to you. You’re not thinking straight," she pauses to laugh at her unintentional pun. "Literally!”
“I’m thinking just fine,” Terri argues. “I love her.”
Kendra continues as if Terri hasn’t spoken.
“I think that little harlot’s worked some kinda voodoo on you. She looks like she could be a witch, ya know. You should never trust people with red-hair, they’re always real bad news.”
“All of your kids have red-hair,” Terri reasons.
“Exactly,” Kendra says, then pauses, thinking. “So...wait, you said you fucked it up? How’d you do that?”
Terri sighs.
“I...cheated on her. I kissed Will.”
Kendra tuts.
“Well, how is that even cheating? He’s your husband. It’s completely impossible to cheat with your own husband. Little Miss Bambi-Eyes is obviously expecting far too much from you,” she says. “I think I should have a word with her...help her to see things a bit more clearly...”
Terri’s head whips around.
“No,” she says, her voice carrying a distinct warning. “You will not go near her. You will stay far away from her. None of this is her fault and the last thing I need is you going and threatening her. I’m trying to get her back.”
Kendra tilts her head and smiles sympathetically, when she speaks, she sounds like she’s talking to someone with reduced mental capacity.
“Sweetie, I think you need to get some sleep, you’re delusional,” she says, putting her hand on Terri’s shoulder.
Terri shrugs her off.
“Promise me you’ll stay away from her. You won’t call her. You won’t go round to her place. You won’t send her any form of threatening message,” she says, trying to cover all the bases. “Promise me you’ll leave her alone.”
Kendra nods, still wearing that condescending expression.
“OK, honey, I promise,” she says, bending to rummage in her purse. She pulls out a bottle of pills and rattles them in Terri’s face.
“What are those?” Terri asks, warily.
“Oh, just some sleeping pills, I’m sure you’ll start thinking better if you just get some sleep,” Kendra says, already popping the cap and pouring pills into her hand. She hands Terri two of them.
“Two of these babies will knock you right out and you’ll wake up fresh as a daisy,” Kendra assures her.
Terri looks at the pills in her hand. She really, really needs to sleep. She tips them into her mouth and swallows.
“I’m just gonna leave the bottle here for you, I got plenty at home,” Kendra says. “And Terri, we’re gonna talk more about this when you’re less...gay about the whole thing, OK?”
The side of Terri’s mouth turns up in a smile.
“Yeah, OK,” she agrees.
*
After Kendra's gone the apartment is overbearingly quiet. She walks through the empty rooms, switching off the lights and trying to fight the fuzziness in her head. She really should have looked at the bottle before taking anything Kendra offered her.
Out of nowhere, she’s hit with the need to say goodnight to Emma. Even if Emma can’t hear her say it. She grabs her phone and curls up on the couch.
~ Sunday ~
She wakes up slowly, with a strange sense of contentment resting somewhere in her chest. Those pills really must’ve worked. She slept right through the night, and she seems to recall having very pleasant dreams. Emma was in them, right here in the apartment.
Her brow scrunches up. That dream seems particularly vivid, especially for one experienced while drugged. She can remember the feel of Emma’s fingers on her skin. She also has a vague recollection of talking to Emma’s voicemail...
She pushes herself to her feet, heading into the kitchen to put some coffee on to clear her head. She picks it out immediately, a bright pink post-it on the counter. She picks it up with a shaking hand.
You weren't dreaming. I'm not going to elaborate on that. You know what I'm talking about.
I flushed the pills down the toilet. I don't want you to make a habit out of taking them just so you can fall asleep or so you can scare me into coming over so you can see me. That can't happen again.
I was going to leave your key... But I needed to lock the door behind me on the way back out. I'll drop it off sometime this week.
Please take care of yourself, Terri.
Emma.
Terri sits down heavily at the kitchen table, the note still in her hand. She reads it again. And again. And she starts to smile. Emma still cares.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Terri resolves to do everything in her power to win Emma back. She stands up and walks through to the living room, grabbing her laptop on the way. She fires it up and opens her e-mail. And she starts writing.
TO: emma.pillsbury@aol.com
SUBJECT: Thank you
OK, so I don’t know if you’ll read this, but you obviously got my message last night so I have to admit I’m kinda hopeful that you will...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-03-02 09:22 am (UTC)Am.
NOT.
YOUR.
MINION!!
no subject
Date: 2010-03-02 11:00 pm (UTC)(Except that you are.)
no subject
Date: 2010-03-03 12:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-03 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-03 12:15 am (UTC)Also? Reply to the date RP, biatch!!!
no subject
Date: 2010-03-03 12:22 am (UTC)I think we should start a new post for the next part. Which is basically going to be smut. And we should get
no subject
Date: 2010-03-03 12:30 am (UTC)And yeah, I made