A/N: Hey all, this is my second fanfiction story and it is very different from my first one. First of all, let me explain the large chunk of psychology in the beginning. It has always bothered me that while Emma is credited with having a BA in psychology she never seems to possess any real knowledge on the subject. I happen to be working on a BA in psychology (which is probably why it annoys me so much in retrospect) and I just wanted to show that she is very much aware of what is going on. I apologize that it got so in depth but I assure you there will not be another chapter that does that. Anything from now on will merely be a reference to the hypotheses mentioned below. Now set forth and read!

Emma's POV

Looking back Emma wasn't sure when it began and she certainly could not ascertain when it developed into a full-blown disorder. Vaguely she could recall days when she would simply forget to eat without any effort at all, a fact she had forgotten until now. The day she was diagnosed stood out starkly in her mind however, she was sick enough then that the words were like music to her ears. It was tangible proof of her accomplishment, her secret, her weapon against everyone who was more successful than her. Even though no one knew about it, she did, and that was all that mattered. Emma Pillsbury finally had a tiny reason to feel better than those around her. She could do something they couldn't and that knowledge was empowering. Empowerment had always been a rarity in Emma's life. Perhaps, more importantly was that it held at bay her insecurities about failing at life because damnit if she could do this, if she could do this than she finally wasn't a failure and in her eyes it meant she never would be.

She wasn't stupid. She knew a lot about anorexia, after all she did have a BA in psychology. She knew that simply calling it anorexia was incorrect, that the term meant nothing more than "without appetite." The "nervosa" was needed, it meant fear. Eating disorders even merited their own category in the DSM. One word had the power to transform a symptom into a disorder.

Emma knew the different hypotheses behind eating disorders. The major branches of psychology all had (and stood by) their own theories. The Behavioral Theory said it was a result of bad parenting, of a perfectionist-minded family environment. Personally Emma didn't care for that one. She didn't care for the Social Theory either. She knew eating disorders were far more complex than people being subjected to unrealistic women on tv or the constant onslaught of diet ads in a society obsessed with being thin.

There were two theories she accepted even though they did slightly contradict one another. In the world of Evolutionary Psychology, psychologist, Shan Guisinger had proposed an eating disorder was a form of a survival mechanism and more importantly he had theorized a reason behind one key difference between people with eating disorders and those forced to starve. Anorexics were hyperactive. They often accomplished unfathomable things while severely sick, many successfully earning not only their Masters but their Ph.d's as well. She often wondered if she would have continued to a higher degree had the disorder manifested while she was working on her Bachelor's. This was the antithesis of people who were forced to starve, they complained of chronic fatigue and no ambition to do any sort of activity even simple ones like getting dressed. Guisinger's theory was labeled The Adaption to Flee Famine Hypothesis and stated that the hyperactivity was a developed to increase one's chances of getting out of a bad environment and finding food. This explained anorexics to some point, although they seemed to be immune to the "finding food" portion something Emma was all too aware of.

By far Emma's favorite theory was the physiological one. The one that proposed that certain people were biologically predispositioned to develop an eating disorder. This only meant their risk factor was higher under certain conditions, especially if anorexia ran in the family. Daughters of anorexic mothers whether actively anorexic while raising their children or recovered were two times more likely to develop an eating disorder. Studies of the brain in both anorexics and a control group of healthy women had shown deficiencies in two areas of the brain integral to factors regarding appetite in the eating disordered group. Causality as of yet was foggy, the chicken or the egg scenario, which came first the disorder or the deficiency?

There were two parts of the brain both located in a structure known as the hypothalamus that were integral to key factors regarding a person's perception of hunger. The Lateral Hypothalamus was responsible for signaling when a person was full and subsequently if this area was not working properly the person never felt full. This was one of the proposed reasons for Binge Eating Disorder. The other part, the Ventro-medial Hypothalamus was responsible for feelings of hunger, logically if this area possessed a deficiency the person never felt hunger, something anorexics claimed to either not experience or had lost completely as their eating disorder worsened.

Emma knew all of this and sometimes she wondered if it put her at a disadvantage, having all this floating around in her head. She knew the symptoms of anorexia by heart. She knew the odd quirks and behaviors anorexics engaged in and once she accepted that she was indeed anorexic she had the mixed blessing of being able to identify them in her own behavior.

The theories provided Emma with concrete proof that maybe she wasn't completely crazy. That maybe in her chaotic brain, her exhausting life that revolved around an irrational fear of germs coupled with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, they were a notion she desperately clung to because in her eyes she was already crazy enough.

Emma stared at herself in the mirror, mindless to the fact that she had been doing this for over three hours. She contorted her body this way and that, looking at herself from the back, the side, the front. Emma had always been insecure about her looks, afraid that she didn't match up to all of the beautiful women around her but lately that insecurity was morphing into something different. Emma was still dissatisfied with her body but she no longer viewed herself as too skinny. Instead her mind had adopted quite the opposite viewpoint. It was a slow process, her thoughts turning on her like they always had a tendency to do, so slow that she failed to notice it herself and she especially failed to categorize it as something to be concerned about.

Gently Emma took her finger and poked at her thighs. They jiggled. She blanched. When had that happened, when had she gotten so fat? This was just another thing to add to her list of failures. The overwhelming sense of being a failure had set in after that fateful day when she was seven and it had never left. She was living a lie, a pseudo life. Who would ever take a high school guidance counselor diagnosed with OCD and Mysophobia seriously? Certainly not the students she was supposed to guide, not when she compulsively rubbed sanitizer onto her hands after even so much as placing a hand on their shoulder in a comforting gesture. No one could take a crazy guidance counselor seriously. They probably all laughed at her behind her back. They probably all laughed at the mockery that was her job, her life. Even Will, she grimaced, as nice and sincere as he seemed he probably joined right in. Now that she finally saw how fat she was there was even more of a reason for them to sneer at her. One more thing she was failing at that they could use as gossip in the teacher's lounge as she took her quiet lunch in her office, sorting her grapes as though her life depended on it.

"You're pathetic," she whispered harshly at her reflection.

There was a decision made in that moment although she didn't really consider it of any importance. It was a decision and nothing more. Walking swiftly into her bedroom Emma violently threw open her closet door glaring at the clothes that seemed to glare right back. What was she going to wear? Everything was so…revealing. There was nothing that would hide her body from her peers' accusatory eyes. That thought cinched it, she was going shopping tomorrow. No one should be subjected to looking at her least of all Will she realized glumly.

After finally deciding on an outfit, a pastel blue skirt (the longest one she owned, falling just below her knees) that she noted with relief, at least covered her thighs. Her shirt was simple yet baggy, a long sleeved, slightly darker blue garment made of a heavier material then most of her clothes. Checking her reflection in the mirror one more time she shot a withering look at her chest. She remembered learning in her Human Sexuality psychology class that breasts were nothing more than fat deposits. How had she not noticed how horrible they made her look? That should have been a warning bell, she had always wished she was more endowed in that area and somewhere in the back of her mind a little voice questioned her questioning.

Emma arrived at school early as she usually did, straightening her office with a precision only someone with OCD could stand to use. A soft knock at the door interrupted her ritual of aligning her desk calendar with a ruler. Emma's annoyance at the offending person quickly vanished when she saw Will with his boyish grin and sparkling eyes, propped up against the door frame. Just as quickly as that feeling hit another one crashed into her. She had never felt this way around him but this sensation was intense and quickly overrode her initial excitement at seeing him.

She was afraid.

Terrified that Will would be repulsed by the discovery she had made earlier this morning. Gently she pulled her shirt down attempting to cover her body before letting her face forml into a grin she didn't quite believe herself.

Will's grin had faded. When had that happened? Emma felt the fear rising again. There was something she couldn't quite identify in his eyes. Worry? Disgust probably, Emma seethed to herself. She felt her fear and shame intensify under his gaze.

He had noticed.

"New outfit, Em," he questioned.

"…uh…yes, I-I-I just bought it yesterday," she stammered. Great, Emma that sounded believable.

"Looks nice," Will murmured in a quiet tone that Emma was pretty sure she had never heard before.

Looks nice because it means I will no longer be forced to stare at your disgusting body, Emma added. Her face must have given away her intense thoughts because he looked at her again cocking his head to the side like he always did when he was curious.

"You okay Em, you seem a bit distracted today. Did something happen? Usually you are happy when I drop by in the mornings but today you seem reclusive, angry even."

"I'm fine," Emma snapped and immediately regretted it when she saw Will's eyes widen in shock. Why had she used that tone with him? Oh look Emma, another thing that you fail splendidly at. You're always hurting people. You're a horrible person, the voice taunted.

Will simply nodded his head almost imperceptibly before turning and slowly walking away. Great, Emma now look what you've done. Why can't you do anything right?, Emma seethedunder her breath. Distantly something tried to make her realize that the voice had become much more negative than it used to be, much more intrusive, much harder to ignore.

Will's POV

Will practically skipped across the Mckinnely High parking lot, barely able to contain his excitement. He loved this time in the morning with Emma and he wouldn't give it up for the world, even if it did mean he had to get up an hour earlier than he normally would. A difficult task for someone who was not a morning person which is why he never left his apartment without a mug of coffee all but glued to his hand. It was worth it. It was always worth it because just seeing the warm smile that spread across her face when he popped in to say hi had him floating on air for the rest of the day.

As he entered the doors of the as-of-yet vacant high school he felt a smile tugging at his lips. He was a free man. His divorce with Terri had finally gone through after months of her dragging it out. He was almost certain that if he hadn't finally come clean about the "baby incident" that he would still be writing checks to his attorney. Emma had been divorced from Carl for a couple of months now. A much larger smile soon graced his entire face as he all but ran down the hallway. He was a free man and Emma, Emma was a free woman. Nothing could bring him down today. Not even his sore shoulder from where he had rather ungracefully collided with a corner after turning too sharply, blinded by his need to see Emma. Still, he had looked around making sure no one had seen. He didn't want anyone learning his secret; he might be one hell of a graceful dancer but in everyday life he was one hell of a klutz.

Will stopped just outside her door, his breath taken away by the sight of her fiery red hair falling over her face as she worked diligently to straighten something on her desk. She's so cute, he thought. Raising his hand (and regretting that he didn't use his other hand, as an ache made itself known in his shoulder) he knocked softly arranging himself in what he hoped was a nonchalant posture. He didn't want to come off as too eager.

Emma looked up quickly, a hint of annoyance flickering across her face but in the time it had taken for that one emotion to appear it was replaced with a smile. The wrong smile, Will was the smile she gave when she had put her walls up, when she felt insecure, when she wanted everyone to believe everything was alright.

His own smile faded from his lips as he looked at her with concern. He watched as a litany of emotions flickered across her face. Shame, anger…disgust? Her outfit was…off, in fact he had never seen it before. It wasn't very flattering it was almost as if she was attempting to disappear into her clothes. When he asked her about it she replied that she had just bought it yesterday but her voice wavered and she stuttered. She was lying. Will let it slide, he could figure that one out later instead he chose to compliment her. His voice sounded false even to his own ears and he hoped she wouldn't notice.

Something wasn't right, he knew that but what he didn't know was what that something was. Emma was secretive, she didn't want people prying and Will respected that but that did not stop him from inquiring anyways. He felt his eyes widen before he realized he had even spoke when she snapped her reply. She obviously wasn't fine. The only time Emma had ever used that tone with him had been when there was good cause, usually a cause he himself had brought about. His mind briefly flashed back to their public altercation in the lunch room before he refocused his attention on her.

Will studied her intently. It looked like there was a battle going on inside her head and it looked as though she were losing ground fast. Will hated those moments and knew from personal experience that when his conscious was wrestling with him he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. That went against everything he wanted to do, he wanted to hug her, hold her, whisper that it would be okay. Instead he felt his head nod slightly and before he knew it he was working his way slowly to his office the dim hallway only adding to his morose mood.

Will resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be floating on air today and that even though his thoughts would remain firmly affixed on Emma they wouldn't be the thoughts he usually entertained. So it seemed something could bring him down today, the same thing that had the capability to light up his entire world. As he struggled to unlock his office door it hit him that he had not had the chance to tell her about Terri. A heavy sigh escaped his lips before his hand connected loudly with the door.

Sitting behind his desk trying in vain to focus what little attention he had managed to gather on the sheet music in front of him he vowed that he was going to figure what was going on and that once he did he would help her through it, whatever it was.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed, I apologize for any spelling errors. I reread this over and over but I have a disgusting knack for not catching them.