Author's Note: Just a thing that was in my head. Artie centric, with Artie/Brittany, past Artie/Tina and Quinn/Artie friendship. Also, this needs to happen on the show...Artie needs to be truly seen! Please read and review! Reviews are amazing.
Truly See
If Artie could pick one word to describe how he feels at that moment in his life it would be happy. Or mostly happy, at least. He is in a stable relationship that has far less drama than his previous one had and, besides the occasional slushie facial (or nineteen), life is pretty good.
Except that he still doesn't feel like he measures up to the standards that he and, in many cases, others set for him. He is still just the kid in the wheelchair whose legs don't work. Sometimes, he feels like he could be so much more but it only takes the slightest brush with reality to send him crashing back to earth, bottom firmly and forever planted in his wheelchair.
Like when Karofsky, ever the idiot, reminds him that he had been allowed on the football team that year only because Coach had felt sorry for him.
But no one can take Karofsky seriously, especially because he doesn't have a heart, or so it would seem.
It doesn't stop with the Neanderthal though. It's everyone.
He remembers the way Rachel had dismissed him as a viable option for the male lead and decided it was Finn she should be singing with, even though even Artie knew and knows that he had the stronger voice. Mr. Schuester hadn't even fought Rachel on that. And Artie's aware that the two wheels that have accompanied him for so long are to blame.
Then there's his ex, who had believed in him enough to hope for his cure. He had wanted so badly to be good enough for her but to dance with her to the song would've meant he could physically rise from the chair and take her in his arms. In the back of his head, he heard his own voice telling him he could dance, even it was in his chair. Tina could've picked him but his wheels had stood in the way.
Now, he has Brittany. And though he'd like to claim she's different, she's really not, taking the focus on his legs not working to a whole new level. It's easy to say, "Oh, she's just Brittany. She doesn't understand." It still hurts, though.
Like when she squeezes his knee repeatedly, goofy grin in place. Watching her, the childlike innocence shining in her blue eyes, he can't help but smile. "What are you doing?" he asks, reaching out a hand to graze her shoulder.
"I'm helping," she practically sings, grinning proudly at him.
"Helping with what?" He likes touching her so he slides his hand from her shoulder to the back of her neck, callused fingers rubbing the smooth skin there.
Leaning forward a bit, as if she might kiss him, her grin stretches so it almost literally splits her face. "If I do this enough, maybe your legs will start working again."
Pulling his hand away from her, he drops it to his lap, brushing her hand from his thigh on purpose. "Oh." Though she knows something's wrong, like Tina had, she doesn't understand just what it is, also like Tina.
Movement to his right draws his attention and he turns his head ever so slightly to see Quinn sitting there, eyes averted. He knows she heard everything and he almost expects a comforting rub to the back, like last year when no one else seemed to notice or care that Tina's choice of Mike, the first time she had picked him over Artie, had caused him pain. But Quinn's fingers remain locked together on her knee and her eyes stay focused on the air in front of her.
Days go by and Artie, as usual, pushes Brittany's words from his mind until they seem but a distant memory that belong to someone else.
Until it happens again.
Before glee starts that Thursday, they are sitting there, palm pressed to palm, Artie thinking about how awesome he is, a frequent topic of his thoughts, when Brittany whispers into his ear, "Focus!"
"Huh?" The imagery of himself standing on a golfing green, beating Tiger Woods in the most epic golf game ever, fades as he tries to figure out just what Brittany means.
"Maybe!" she exclaims. "If you focus on your legs enough, you'll be able to walk! Without that robot thing!"
The sting begins in his heart and starts to spread as he attempts a coherent response. Before he can, Quinn, in the spot that has become hers, next to him, snaps, "Yeah, maybe if he uses the Force, he'll be able to levitate."
He can't help it. He chuckles at Quinn's barbed comeback, even though he knows that, somehow, she's insulting Brittany.
"Oh. I can use the force!" Without waiting for either to explain the Star Wars reference, Brittany pushes Artie's chair. Unprepared, he finds himself rolling towards the door, stopping himself just short of colliding with Santana, who is coming in.
She takes one look at him, grunts out an ugh, then takes a seat as far away from Brittany as possible. Those two rarely seem to sit together anymore.
With a sigh, he moves himself back into position between the two blondes, noticing how the one is glaring at the other.
Inside of him, something stirs though he is not sure what.
It happens days after that the two of them, he and Quinn, are sitting together in the choir room. Her back is hunched, her head in her hands and he thinks she might be crying though she isn't making any noise.
"Quinn…"
When she lifts her eyes to make contact with his, he can see, gazing into her hazel orbs, the tears glittering there. "Do you know what it's like to feel completely broken?"
The question takes him of guard. Does she realize who she's asking? "Do I? Look at me, Quinn. Of course I do."
Clearly perplexed, she tilts her head to the side. "Look at you? How can anyone tell by looking at you if you're broken or not? Brokenness is something that happens inwardly…like when you've made two huge mistakes and hurt a slew of people before turning eighteen…and…yeah." As she's speaking, one tear makes its way down her cheek and, reflexively, he's wiping it away, the pad of his thumb sweeping across her cheekbone.
Though he wants to make her feel better, he can't help but contemplate her words and think of others from the past.
"You'll never be a full man, like me." Karofsky.
"Don't worry, Artie, one day they'll find a way to make you better." Tina.
"You're like half a person because you're head reaches my waist but when you use that robot thing, you're as tall as me and that's hot!" Brittany.
"I've made mistakes," he finally gets out.
"Not like I have," she mutters, leaning back against her chair and inhaling deeply. "You weren't what Tina thought you should be, so what? Really, Artie, you're an amazing person."
The words slip out before he can stop them. "But not whole."
Narrowing her eyes, a very Quinn like expression in place, she almost glares at him. "What does it mean to be whole but to be healthy and to confident and…you are those things, Artie." Without her needing to give further voice to her thoughts, he knows that she doesn't believe herself to be healthy or confident. It's this side of Quinn, seen so rarely, that he likes. He believes this side to be the real Quinn, the Quinn that hides in fear of people ripping away her many layers and exposing her true vulnerability. "You need to hang out with people who see you, Artie."
There is no hesitation on his part as he takes her hand, that something from weeks beforehand stirring within him again. "And you need to hang out with people who see you, Quinn."
The long moment of comfortable and understanding silence between them is only disrupted when the other members of the club began pouring through the door.
Their words to each other are not forgotten.
On Friday, Artie hangs out with Puck. On Saturday, with Mercedes. Neither mention his wheelchair confined status and he's grateful he took Quinn's advice. Brittany calls him on Sunday, wanting to hang out but, after a moment of consideration, he tells her he can't, dialing Quinn's number as soon as he hangs up with Brittany.
After all, she needs someone to hang out with who sees her too and he, more than anyone else probably, truly sees her, just like he believes that she can truly see him.