At about seven-thirty in the morning, Emma made her way down the school hallway, tugging uncomfortably at her cardigan. It was already spring, but of course, Principal Figgins had not turned the air conditioning on, much to her dismay.

She tapped lightly on Will's office door, before stepping inside and sitting across from his desk.

"Oh, hey!" he said, surprised, looking up from a few stacks of sheet music. "I didn't see you, this morning." He burrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head to one side.

"There's advanced placement exams today," Emma sighed. "I had to get up a half hour early, to get here and help set up."

Will looked surprised. That was because Emma rarely did not get up at the same time, every morning.

Emma fanned herself, a bit, with her hands. "Gosh, do you think the school's budget could be any worse? The air should be on, by now…" She absolutely hated overheating. Even just the thought of sweating made her nervous.

"Em, you could take off your sweater. You have a blouse on underneath." Will spoke slowly, with hesitation.

"No… No, Will. This is the outfit I chose for today. I'm not going to change it…" Emma spoke firmly, struggling to keep her voice steady.

"What's up with you, today?" Will asked, concerned.

"Nothing. What is that supposed to mean?" Emma scowled.

"You just seem a little… off," he said, keeping his mouth in a straight line, and holding her gaze.

"Will, I've got everything under control, but thank you for your concern." Emma smiled, and he quickly returned the favor. She nodded her head in satisfaction. "Are you excited for Regionals? Just a week away, right?"

"Yeah, a week from this Saturday. The competition is going to be pretty tough, this year," he said, with his look that read excitement, rather than worry. "So, it should be fun… You're going to be there, aren't you?"

"Of course, Will! I wouldn't miss it for the world." This would be New Directions' sixth Regional title, but Emma rarely missed a glee event.

Will grinned. He had not changed much, over the years. Maybe a few more creases in his forehead. And the lines on his still ever present six pack were just slightly less defined. But sitting with him, now, they were still the same Will and Emma they had always been.

The warning bell rang, signifying the end of their conversation, and the start of the work day. Will and Emma both stood up, moving to the side of his desk.

"Well, I have to proctor, during my lunch period. So, I'll see you at home?" Unless she had ACT prep, or something similar, Emma almost always got home well before Will, as he had glee practice, after school let out. So, they had been accustomed to not seeing each other until it was about time to start preparing for dinner.

"Okay, hon. Good luck, today. I'll see you then."

Emma stepped forward, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. That was her rule; her limit—nothing beyond that, at work. She walked away, turning to wave at him, before making her way to her office.

XXX

Emma carried the scantrons from the afternoon tests down the hallway to her office. They had to be mailed to the scoring office, which, of course, she would take care of, first thing tomorrow morning. For now, she hummed along to the click of her heels against the tile, satisfied that a lone day was over. Once she got her things together, she could go home, start preparing the spaghetti she had planned for dinner, tonight, and spend the rest of the evening relaxing.

She set the scantrons down on her desk, in a neat stack, quickly labeling them with a sticky note. She didn't bother sitting down, as she only had a few more things to pack into her briefcase.

The phone rang, while she was standing there.

"Hello?" Emma answered, softly, cradling the phone in the crook of her neck, so she could finish what she was doing.

"Hi, is Emma Pillsbury there?" she heard a high-pitched female voice on the other end say.

"Actually, it's Emma Schuester, now," Emma responded, smiling at the recollection of her fourth wedding anniversary that had only just recently passed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We don't actually have that in our records…"

"Oh! Well, I'm still the same Emma," she told the woman, bopping her head, happily. Although, she was not sure what records this lady was referring to. "May I ask who's calling?"

"This is Lima County Hospital. We have you on file as the primary contact for Carl Howell."

Emma froze, grasping the phone in her hand, to keep it from dropping to the ground. Slowly, she lowered herself into her chair, clenching a shaky hand on the arm rest.

"C-Carl?" She choked out the name. She could not even remember the last time she had spoke it out loud. A million thoughts flooded her head. Why would they be calling her about Carl? "What's wrong with him?"

"Actually, ma'am… Carl woke up, earlier today."

Emma pressed her free hand against her chest, able to feel her heartbeat speed up. She sat there, unable to move—still; silent.

"Mrs. Schuester…? Would you like to come see him, before he's released?"

"What? Oh!" Emma tried desperately to clear her mind; snap her head back into the conversation. "Um… Yes. Yes, I'll be right there."

As soon as Emma hung up the phone, she realized she had no idea what she was going to do, or say.

XXX

Taking the familiar path through the hospital, Emma made her way to the wing with Carl's room. She had still visited him, at least a few times a year, even after her marriage. After all, his family lived in California and rarely had time to come up, themselves. They had, however, kept the payments on his house and car intact.

No one had wanted to give up hope.

"Emma, hi!" Carl's doctor greeted her, with a forced expression, as if he was trying to force her spirits to lift.

"Dr. Burstein… Wh-what happened?" Emma just could not understand. After all this time, how was he suddenly okay? Was he okay, or had he woken up with permanent damage? Like, his memory. Would he even remember her…?

"Carl's made a full recovery! Sometimes, after remaining unconscious for so long, the body just… repairs itself. It's quite miraculous, really. You should be very grateful."

Emma simply nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Oh! And I apologize for the mix up, earlier. It's a very new nurse staff." Dr. Burstein said, looking rather apologetic, indeed.

"No, it's alright… I just… Well, can I see him?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Of course, go right ahead," he told her, extending an arm towards Carl's room.

Taking slow, small steps, Emma cautiously made her way into Carl's room, perching herself in the doorway. She didn't even utter a word, but rather, waited until Carl looked up, from where he sat, at the edge of his bed.

"Emma."

Suddenly, those two syllables sounded like the most important things that could even leave a man's mouth.

She stood there, watching him—or waiting for him to, she wasn't sure which—approach. "C-Carl…" she stammered, as she finally willed herself to move, and meet him halfway.

He wrapped his arms around her, and it took her a few seconds to finally lift her hands and place them around his back. She could not believe that she was touching him, and he was actually returning it—initiating it, really.

"I've missed this," he whispered in her ear, before pulling away.

They held onto each other, gripping the other one's elbows. The only distance between them was from each of them holding their heads back. It gave Emma the opportunity to get a good look at him. Sure, she had seen him over the past several years, but that had been his body. This, that she was staring at right now, was Carl Howell.

His hair was dusted with just a little more silver than usual, and as she held onto his arm, she could feel that he had lost most of the definition he once possessed. But his eyes… It was as if she had never stopped staring into them. They were still just as green; still just a bright. They had not dulled a bit, like she might have expected them to.

Carl was still the most beautiful man in the world.

Emma's mouth dropped open, once she pulled apart and turned away from him, and closed, again, by the time she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Just a moment later, Carl sat down beside her. She stared straight ahead, at the floor, despite feeling his gaze on her. They both kept their hands clasped in their own laps.

"Did they tell you how long it's been?" she asked, blankly.

"Almost five years." He nodded. His voice was straight forward, but not any duller.

"Yeah…" She nodded, too, having seen him out of the corner of her eye. "Are you mad?"

"About what?" He turned his head further towards her. She knew he was willing her to look back, but she just couldn't.

"You lost so much of your life, to this…" She had been furious, when he had not waked up. Of course, he had been oblivious to the matter, then. But now, she could only expect him to be bitter.

"No… I'm not mad. Why should I be? I'm still alive, and that means I'm with you, again."

He sounded so utterly certain, when today had been filled with nothing but uncertainty, for Emma. At that, she finally looked up at him, gazing into his eyes, with her own big, sad brown ones. "That was five years ago…" she said, in a very hushed whisper.

He chuckled, slightly. "I don't expect you to be single, Ems. In fact, I hope you're not. Because I don't want to know that you were sad, all this time. But I'm going to do everything in my power to love you as much and make you as happy as I once did."

Emma shut her eyes, trying to breathe in and out, but only shaky, unsteady streams of air came through. "I'm married," she said, finally, holding herself, arms clutched across her chest.

Carl released a long sigh, but spoke, again, with the same amount of surety. "Well, I guess this might be a little harder. But it's worth it. Tell me, what's my competition like?"

"Th-that's not fair!" Emma stuttered, the pitch in her voice jumping several decibels. "When Will wanted to fight for me, all those years ago, you told him to back off, because I was with you."

"And I also agreed that the second you started leaning his way, it was fair game," he said, as a matter-of-factly. But Emma just wanted to cry, even if she would never let herself, because she hated feeling this confused and out of control.

"So! What difference does that make?" she shouted. She stood up, and paced, once. Emma willed herself to breath, and calm down. She never behaved this way. This was not okay.

He stood up, gently grasping the sides of her arms, but holding her still, as he spoke. "Because. The only thing that has kept me alive, for the past five years, is that somewhere deep inside, I knew you were still alive; still loving me. And that I love you, Emma."

"It's Will!" she blurted out, harshly, pulling away from him. "I am married to Will." She said the words slowly, through several breaths. They both watched each other, carefully, for a moment, neither breathing a word. "I should go… I have to go…"

She turned away and walked out, wondering, one more time, if this would be the last time she would see Carl Howell.

XXX

Emma was walking down the hall of their apartment, just as Will was unlocking it.

"Emma?" he said, turning around. "Are you just now getting home?"

"Yeah, um…" She sighed, casually running a hand through her hair. "Scoring stuff ran really late. Come on, let's go in," she urged, tapping his back, softly, so he would finish opening the door.

Stepping inside, Emma allowed to familiarity to surround her. She sighed, hanging her jacket on the coat rack, and trying to simply focus and calm down. Nothing had to change. Nothing was going to change. She had never been happier to see a person—she was so grateful that Carl was alive—but she had a new life, now.

"Well, you want me to order a pizza, or something, Em?" Will asked, as he put his own belongings in their dedicated areas.

"Huh? Oh, no. No, I said we're having spaghetti tonight, honey. I'll get cooking right away." Emma instantly moved into the kitchen, tying an apron around her waist.

Will chuckled. "Spaghetti takes a while, and you're home much later than usual. Are you sure?"

"Yes, Will. I am sure." Emma said, definitively. She pressed a palm against the counter for everything. "We don't have to go messing everything up, just because… because I got home a little late, one day."

"Emma! It's alright, sweetheart. I didn't mean…" Will walked up behind her, gently rubbing her shoulders up and down. "Whatever you want for dinner is fine." He kissed her cheek and headed off to the bedroom, to change his clothes.

Emma gripped the edge of the stove, staring at the clock. She had enough time to get it done. She could do it.

Time suddenly seemed so relative, anyway.

XXX

"Will?" Emma called, from the bathroom, where she was currently trying to tie up the back of her nightgown. "I actually, um, went somewhere else, today, after scoring… I wanted to tell you about it…"

"Oh yeah?" he called back, nose probably buried in more sheet music.

"Yeah, I got a call from the hospital… Carl woke up." She paused, watching her own reflection in the mirror, rather than try and gauge his response, from a room away.

"Carl? Wow… Is everything alright?" Will asked, in a rather flat voice.

"Yeah, he's perfect," she sighed, still watching the mirror, carefully. "Good condition, I mean. Yep." She shook her head, turning to face the doorway, to look at him.

Sure enough, glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, and he was holding several pages with notes and words she still never quite understood. Finally, he glanced up to meet her gaze, immediately rushing over to her. "Are you okay, honey?" he asked, gripping her shoulders.

"Oh, yeah! I'm fine. Just… so happy for him, you know?" she said, as nonchalantly as possible, nodding as she stared up at him.

"Me too, Emma. That's such good news. Is he okay, getting back on his feet, and everything?" Emma smiled at the genuine tone Will's voice. "Oh hey, do you need help with that?" He pointed to her back.

"Oh, yeah. Um, sure," she said, meekly, turning around. "But yeah, his family kept all his insurance intact, and everything," she explained, as Will tied the ribbons into a lazy bow. He patted her back, before grabbing her hand and leading them both back to bed.

Emma was on her back, about to pull up the covers and turn off her lamp, when suddenly, Will was climbing on top of her, trailing kisses down her next. "I don't know why I bothered doing that up in the first place," he muttered against her shoulder, sneaking a hand around back, grabbing at the bow he had just put in place.

"Oh… Not tonight, honey," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "It's already time for me to go to bed."

"Can't you stay up a little later?" he whined, gently sucking on the skin at her collar bone.

"No, I just can't… You know. We had dinner so late, and everything just got behind." She feigned a yawn, attempting to roll over, and move away. "Plus, I woke up early this morning, so I'm extra tired."

He shifted off of her, resting his hand on her shoulder, stroking it with his thumb. "It's okay," he said, smiling. You should get some rest."

"You're too good to me." She smiled back, cupping his face, gently grazing his cheek with her fingertips. "I love you. So much. Do you know how much you mean to me?"

"Of course. Because you mean that much to me." He smiled again, leaning up to kiss her lips. "I love you, too. Goodnight, Emma." He shut off the master light, before pulling the covers over the both of them.

She turned away, tucking herself beneath the blankets and resting her head against her arm. She shut her eyes, but for the first time in nights that would be impossible to count, Emma could not fall asleep.

A/N: Yay, Carl's alive! Haha, finally. I hope that cleared up any questions you all might have had from the prologue. But, I'm sure it opened up a whole bunch of new ones! I'm incredibly excited to write this story.

Also, I'll probably be posting a soundtrack for the story in my profile, sometime soon, because they're just too fun.

Please tell me what you think!