Author's Note: I'm seriously considering turning this into a story, so please review and tell me if it's something you'd be interested in reading. It strikes me that there's so much that can be done with this, and the idea of Emma running off because she's pregnant with Will's child is almost too much for me to resist.
Honesty is hardly ever heard, but mostly what I need from you. – Billy Joel
We had finally made it there, spent two days in my apartment, talking and laughing and making love. I was happier than I ever had been in my life.
And then she left. She resigned from her post and vanished without a word, effectively destroying the man who loved her. Three years passed without a word from her, and then one day, Nationals were held in Washington DC.
The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, spring was just beginning to coax the bite out of the air, while home in Lima, it was still icy cold, snow on the ground. We had not only placed, we had won, and celebrations were in full swing before the eight and a half hour trip home.
And, mid-party, something small collided with my calf. I looked down and couldn't help but smile at the tiny boy who was staring up at me. I knelt down. "Hey there, buddy. What's your name, huh?"
He looked at me shyly. "Miles."
I grinned. "That's a good name." I told him. Actually, Miles was my middle name, as it was my father's middle name, and his father's name before him. There was never a time in my life that the Schuester family had been without a Miles. The boy grinned at me as I complimented his name, and I could feel a smile tug at my own lips as I observed the boy. He had big brown eyes and curly brown hair and a wide smile, and even at maybe two or three, he had a lean build and the way he shifted from one foot to the other was more graceful than one would expect from a toddler. One day, this little boy would be a great dancer, his movements lithe and smooth. Honestly, save for the eyes, the kid reminded me very much of the baby pictures and home videos that sat around my parents house. He looked a lot like I had at his age. "Where's your mommy, buddy?"
He bit his lower lip and pivoted smoothly on one foot before pointing to a woman on a bench who was staring at me in terror. Finally, I understood why Miles' mother hadn't come over the moment the child ran into me. I recognized the doe-eyed redhead, and it caused me to look again at the child who stood beside me, taking in the curly hair and easy grace with new eyes. Oh my God… "I think you might be… uh… worrying your mommy, talking to strangers." I told him softly, taking his hand and leading him back to the redhead who stared at me. "Emma….?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"Emma, is he….?"
She nodded tearfully as Miles climbed onto her lap. "Yes, Will." She held my stunned gaze. "He's yours."