A.N.-Yeah, total A.U., pre-season 1. Lightly inspired by fics where Kurt and Artie have 'been bff's since like pre-k 'n shit.'

Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with the Glee fandom and make no profit. Also, I have no beta and make no promises...

BACK STORY

Every friendship has a back story, as does every story about enemies. This is the story of two boys, united in the same tragedy that divided them; my name is Artie Abrams (no relation to the tank company) and until we were eight years old my best friend was a boy named Kurt Hummel. Kurt was different than most other boys our age, not that I cared because it just meant that no one tried to take my best friend while we were playing at recess. Our mothers did Mommy and Me classes together and had play-dates for us for as long as either of us could remember. The accident happened when we were eight and we barely spoke again for years; not until we both joined the Glee Club. Even then we kept our interactions to a minimum; it wasn't until we lost Nationals our Junior year that anyone else realized we were connected. We were moping around the boy's hotel room and Sam asked how I'd ended up in my wheelchair; at the same moment Santana noticed Kurt's scar for the same time and commented on it. Our eyes instinctively met and everyone could smell a secret; we weren't allowed to keep it and, looking back, I think we were both relieved to get it out to our closest friends once and for all.

**flashback**

We'd been begging for a huge fort on stilts like we'd seen on t.v. Our parents finally agreed and one Saturday morning mom drove Kurt's dad's truck to Home Depot; our dads were at my house getting the backyard and BBQ grill ready. I'd spent the night at Kurt's the night before, planning all of the cool things we'd do once we had our fort, and matched my best friend for energy when Mom pulled up. Mrs. Lizzy and my mom kept us pretty much under control while they made sure we got everything on the list and one of the workers put it in the back of the truck for us while I argued with my mom that I wanted to ride in the truck instead of in Mrs. Lizzy's car.

Kurt rode with his mom and to this day I can't remember why he sat behind her.

We were about half way home when we were hit head on by a soccer mom in a first generation Hummer who was paying more attention to her car phone than the road. We were told afterward that we should have gotten a tarp to cover the stuff in the bed of the truck; if we had a twelve foot pipe wouldn't have bounced out of the bed and slammed through the windshield of the car behind us, passing mostly through Mrs. Lizzy and into the side of Kurt's neck. The front of Mr. Burt's truck was destroyed when Mrs. Lizzy's car slammed into the side of it and sent it spinning into one of those concrete barriers. That's when I was paralyzed, but Mrs. Lizzy was already dead when her car hit us so it's not like she did it on purpose. Thankfully that pipe stayed in Kurt's neck because it seemed like it took forever for people to realize he was alive and if the pipe had come out he probably would have bled to death.

**end flashback**

The assembled Gleeks stared between us as I recounted our story; despite everyone knowing my accident and the first Mrs. Hummel's death had occurred the same year, no one had realized they happened at the same time. Kurt took a deep breath but spoke quietly; it was loud enough in the deathly silent room.

"We stopped being friends after that; I blamed Mrs. Kelly for my mom's death, and Artie blamed my mom for his wheelchair. We realize now that it wasn't either of their faults but there's just too much hurt between us for us to ever truly be friends again."

I agreed and took up the narrative again.

"I know people think I'm uncomfortable with Kurt because he's gay; I've never cared about that and I doubt that I ever will. I think we both have trouble sometimes because we look at each other and see us as we were before that day."

Kurt nodded and everything was silent for a moment more before there was a small explosion of noise as our friends moved back and forth between us with hugs and sympathy and, in the case of Puck, and indecent proposal for an all male threesome; Kurt arched one eyebrow and accepted, which caused Puck to splutter, blush, and walk away. I just laughed because I'd known Kurt would accept; it was the sort of thing 'my' Kurt would have done, and over the past two years this stranger who'd taken over my best friend's body had given way to the boy I remembered more and more often.

Perhaps we were both wrong; maybe there was hope for our friendship yet. I caught Kurt's eye and knew I was on to something.