This is the new story. I don't really have much to say here today, so I just hope that you all enjoy it.
Thank you to Miranda for beta'ing.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
At his somewhat mature age of sixteen, Artie Abrams had already learned a lot of lessons about life. Perhaps more than someone his age should have to learn. First, there were things like: don't care too much, even if you do. Because you don't want to come off as desperate or over-emotional. And, as the Rolling Stones so eloquently put it, you can't always get what you want. But maybe the most important lesson he had to come to terms with was that there is always someone who has it worse than you.
It was almost morbid but it didn't make it any less true for him. Artie had it pretty bad. Since just after his eighth birthday, he had been in a wheelchair from a car accident that paralyzed him from the waist down. It could have been worse, he knew.
Life had never been simple for him. He had many problems physically, emotionally, and socially over the years. There are only so many things a child can focus on at once and as much as he would have loved to work on his friendships when he was eight, he was too busy recovering in the hospital to go out and join the peewee soccer team. He spent his pre-adolescent years coming to terms with the fact that his life would never be the same.
Eventually, he stopped noticing the stares and gawks when he rolled down the hall. He was able to keep from getting embarrassed when people asked about the chair. The fact that he was an anomaly both in public places and at school stopped phasing him. He knew people were curious about him. How he lived, how he went about his day.
And after that, people stop noticing. People at school don't stare at him so much anymore.
Life was normal for Artie. He had friends and he was in the glee club. Things were as close to a normal teenager's life as they were ever going to get.
A few weeks after school began his junior year, Artie was called into the school guidance counselor's office. He had never been called out of class before when he wasn't expecting it, like when his father came to take him to the dentist, so he was genuinely confused.
He rolled into Miss Pillsbury's office, where she was moving chairs around to make her small office more accessible for him. She looked up and waved him in, "Artie, please. Come in."
"Am I in trouble?" he asked, his brow furrowed as he shut the door gently. He went through all the things he had done in the last few weeks in his mind. He had skipped out of his English class a few minutes early, claiming his next class was across the school, when really he was just going to go meet Tina in the instrument closet next to the choir room. But how could anyone have possibly found out about that? And it's not like they didn't anything wrong…
"No, no," she said, her mouth making an "O" around the words. She straightened her skirt and sat down on the edge of one of the chairs, "You're a fantastic student, Artie. You're second in your class, and you're in glee. You should be very proud of yourself."
"Then…why am I here?" He didn't want the question to sound rude, but if he had been called if here just to praise him…well, he would have rather not come. Artie hated to hear good things about himself the same way he hated to hear his voice on a recording.
Miss Pillsbury flattened a wrinkle in her skirt out with her hands and placed them delicately in her lap, "I wanted to talk to you about your volunteer hours. You're aware that you need fifteen hours to graduate, correct?"
He shook his head. He had never heard anything about this. And his friends hadn't said a word about this either. Also, what organization would be willing to let him work for them? He was a liability to waiting to happen. He couldn't do much construction work for Habitat for Humanity like most guys would, because he couldn't reach higher than about two feet above his head. And his chair always seemed to get in the way of something important whenever he was trying to help.
He would probably end up doing more harm.
"Well, that's okay. Sometimes these things slip by," she said, "But the reason I've called you in here is because I was approached with an opportunity that you may be interested in. I was contacted by Lima Memorial Hospital yesterday afternoon…about you. You were in your accident when you were eight, correct?"
Artie was sure she already knew. She had even admitted to reading his file before in the other times he had met with her. But he nodded anyway.
"There is a young girl currently in their pediatric wing that's around the same age and she was in an accident similar to yours three months ago. She's paralyzed to almost the same degree you are. Her family wanted to have someone to come talk to her a few times who knows what it's like before they send her home. That's where you come in."
"Me?" he asked, "I don't know."
"It would just be for a few hours," she assured him, handing him a piece of paper from the folder on the chair next to her, "For two Saturdays and maybe once after she goes home. It would really give you a leg up on your hours. You could have at least six by the end of the month. And I can't speak for her family, but I'm know they would appreciate it. I'm sure you can understand this is a very difficult time for them."
He did. People often thought that his condition had affected only him. But if anything, it had more impact on his parents. They went from having two healthy, able bodied children, to having to care for a newly disabled son when they never thought they would never have to. They had to move into a new house that was accessible for him and buy a new car. Money-wise, it was stressful.
Mentally, it was worse. Even at eight years old, he could see the tiredness in his mother's eyes when she would sit with him for long hours when they would poke and prod at him. Maybe that made them closer, but the guilt from having to make her go through that never really faded. The obligation to make it up to her is constant.
Artie honestly wasn't sure what to do. In some ways, he would feel bad if he said he didn't want to do it from the get-go. It had been so many years since he had gone anywhere near Lima Memorial Hospital. And he had reasons for that. Reasons he would rather not discuss with Miss Pillsbury.
At the same time, though, he remembers how much he wanted some kind of companion that understood what he was feeling. Someone that could have reassured him that things would turn out okay.
The doctors and the nurses just hadn't been very convincing to him. They didn't make it seem like his life would ever return to a relatively normal state. Whenever he would ask if he could do something when he returned home, they would just say, "Your life is going to be very different now, Artie." That never answered his questions. That never helped him.
Their answers didn't save him from years of uncertainty and therapy.
He was reluctant to say yes. What if he did agree and then chickened out? He didn't want to disappoint this little girl who had already been through so much in such a short span of time.
He knew what that was like. He wouldn't add on to her troubles if he didn't have to. Finally, he asked, "Can I think about it?"
"Of course," she said, standing, "I really want you to consider this, Artie."
He nodded in understanding before she opened the door for him, signaling that he was dismissed, and he headed back to class.
The rest of the morning passed with little fanfare. He had Spanish with Mr. Schuester and they discussed his solo for glee club after he finished taking his test for chapter three. It looked promising when they talked about it but who knows what would happen with that. He had been promised a lot of big things in glee club that really never came to much outside rehearsals.
He met his girlfriend, Tina Cohen-Chang, next to her locker just before lunch. She was bopping to the beat of whatever she was listening to as she transferred her books into her backpack. When she saw him, she took one of her ear buds out and leaned down to kiss him quickly as she put her lunch in his lap, "No stealing my cookies," she said, laughing, and she began to push him down the hallway. When he didn't laugh along with her, she asked, "What's wrong?"
"Miss Pillsbury called me into her office this morning."
"Yeah, and?" she replied, "They didn't find out about…"
That was one of the things he loved most about Tina. How their minds always seemed to go to the same place when something happened. They were almost always on the same page, no matter what the subject. They were totally alike in mind, of course, because they would probably clash more if they weren't. Like their voices, the things that they agreed on and things they disagreed on meshed well.
"No, not that I'm aware of," he told her, "She asked me if I wanted to go talk to this little girl that's in the hospital. She was in an accident like mine a couple months back. When she's released, she'll be in a wheelchair and they want me to provide some…I don't know. Advice? Emotional support. Something like that. Anyway, I don't know if I want to do it."
Tina pondered the situation as they entered the lunchroom. She pushed them to their usual table and set her lunch on the table, moving to get his own out of his backpack. "You should," she said as she sat down. She broke one of her cookies in half and handed the smaller part to him, "I mean, wouldn't you have liked to have someone come and talk to you?" He shrugged as she continued, "You could really show this girl how good her life could turn out. I don't know about you, but I think you have a pretty good life."
"So you think I should do it?" he clarified, taking a sip from his can of Diet Coke.
"Yes," she replied, "Why? Don't you want to?"
"I just…I haven't really been in a hospital since I was released," he admitted.
She unwrapped her sandwich and ripped off a bite before popping it in her mouth. She swallowed, then said, "I could go with you, if you want."
Tina and Artie had been together as a couple for nearly nine months now, but they had been friends for a lot longer. Because of their long history together, it had kind of become an unspoken rule that they didn't talk about Artie's accident or condition much. She also knew to never bring up his time in the hospital, because out of all of those things, that was what he was most sensitive about. For obvious reasons, of course. Now and again, he would mention it in passing, but she never asked him to elaborate because she didn't want to dig up anything for him that he was obviously trying to put to rest.
It didn't mean she wasn't curious. But it was a difficult topic to breech. You don't just walk up to your boyfriend and say: I want to hear about the accident that paralyzed you while we walk to class. She had been waiting years for him to bring it up and she still hopes that he will, someday. She had tried once when they had to be in wheelchairs for glee club. But the concise but vague answer he gave told her that he didn't want to talk about it.
With that, the subject dropped, because their friends, Kurt Hummel and Mercedes Jones, joined them at the table, ready to talk about glee club gossip. Artie had basically made his decision by that point, anyway.
After school, Artie went by Miss Pillsbury's office to get the information about this opportunity. She gave him a two page packet that described the basics of when he should be there, who he should report to, among other things. She gave him another sheet that had a list of items she suggested that he bring along with him. Photos of himself before and after the accident and any things that greatly impacted his life.
He asked if it was okay if he brought Tina along, for moral support. She saw no reason why not, explaining to him that her female influence might make everyone more comfortable.
Artie's reason was a bit more selfish. He needed her there in case he started to have a panic attack of something. Sure, he could have this mother come with him, but she couldn't calm him down in the same way Tina did.
Miss Pillsbury couldn't tell him much information about the child he would be seeing, other than that she was eight and that her accident was three months ago. They hadn't disclosed a name or anything that he could go on so he could figure out what to say to her. He didn't know what she liked and didn't like. What if she liked sports instead of music? Artie knew music.
He didn't have even the slightest indication as to what to tell her.
He was sure that she knew all the basics that they teach you in the hospital. How to maneuver in the chair and get dressed and go to the bathroom. All of the clinical stuff that she would be plagued with for the rest of her life.
But a doctor can't teach you how to make friends when you can't run and play along with all of the other children. Or start a conversation when those children are too afraid to come up to you. They can't teach you to find interests that fit you and you can actually do when you're confined like this.
Even though he wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say, Artie made his way home that afternoon knowing he had made the right decision.
