Artie gulped nervously, his eyes roaming the halls of what was soon to become his new school. The place wasn't particularly wheelchair friendly, but it was the best that his parents could do. It was the nearest private school, with a no bullying policy that didn't have some extortionate price that they couldn't afford. Artie didn't really know what he wanted to do. He was sick of being shoved down the stairs in his chair at McKinley, but he didn't exactly want to leave his friends and make the daunting, high ceilinged, fancily decorated corridors he was now being pushed through 'his' school.

"Okay, sweetie," cooed the rather patronising secretary from beside him, the click of her heels echoing off of the walls eerily, "Why don't you wait in the common room while me and your parents have a little chat?" Artie rolled his eyes and nodded slightly, not that he had much choice anyway. His Mom pushed him into another large room, and he waved them off lightly adjusting his chair, and tugging it up to the head of an empty table. Pulling out his phone, Artie scrolled through his inbox, and began replying to one of the texts that Sam had sent him. His friend had recently had a Star Wars marathon (without him, much to Artie's dismay), and was sending him random questions, as if to test the glasses clad teen's nerd-knowledge. 'Han totally shot first, man', Artie typed in, pressing the send button with a chuckle when a hand fell on his shoulder, causing him to flinch slightly in surprise.

"Hey!" came a cheerful voice. A dark haired boy stepped around and slid onto the bench beside the table that Artie had pulled up by. "You new?" he asked, sliding two takeaway coffee cups onto the table.

Artie paused for a moment, not sure of how to respond. "Not yet," he decided on, eyeing the two beverages with a confused look. He knew people loved coffee, but that much?

"Not yet?" the other teen questioned quirking an eyebrow. He chuckled a little, and noted the look that Artie was giving him. "Guess I can't give you an introductory coffee then," the kid grinned. He then laughed at Artie's further confused expression before pushing the cup forward towards him. "Consider it encouragement instead. I'm Wes, by the way," he greeted, "I hope you like latte's."

The gesture was almost alien to Artie, and he looked at the hot drink for a few moments before collecting himself and diverting his gaze back up to Wes. "Oh, uh, thanks man," Artie smiled a little, taking the coffee and cradling it in his hands, having dropped his phone onto his lap. "Artie Abrams," he introduced himself, letting go of the cup and offering his hand out to shake. Wes met the gesture with a firm handshake, and Artie nodded in approval – he liked to gain an impression via handshakes. It was just something he did.

"So," Wes smiled, sipping his coffee, "Why aren't you the new kid yet?"

Another voice butted in; joining the conversation casually, "He's not the new kid yet?" A huff followed this, and two more teens in blazers slid onto the bench opposite Wes. "But I still need to shift that title!" A pale, dark haired boy groaned, pushing what looked like a sketchbook onto the table.

"I'm sure he'll convert soon enough," grinned the boy beside him, whose hair had been glued back in place with an insane amount of gel, "We're irresistible." He chuckled, and offered Artie a warm smile, cradling his own coffee cup.

Wes rolled his eyes, and waved a hand towards the two additions to the table, "Artie, meet Nick and Blaine." Artie had only just caught the eye roll, having barely looked away from Blaine from the moment the teen had spoken, and he gulped, pulling his eyes from him to study the grains of the wooden table as he composed himself, before looking up again.

" 'Sup," Artie smiled feebly, feeling a lot more out of his depth now that there were three Dalton kids around him.

"So," Nick folded his arms across his book, picking at the corner subconsciously, "Where you from?"

"Lima? William McKinley High."

Blaine grinned again, "Neat, I know the area pretty well."

Artie blinked, before realising he was supposed to respond. He had no idea what had gotten into him. "Oh? That's cool."

Wes cleared his throat, causing the three other boys to look over at him. "I believe my question was interrupted," he pulled an unimpressed face, and shot it over at Nick and Blaine, before looking to Artie. "How come you're not an addition to the ranks here yet?" Wes repeated.

"Uhm," Artie tapped his fingertips against the paper cup nervously, "Well, I'm still kind of deciding," he admitted. There wasn't really much decision left, it was either transfer to Dalton or stay at McKinley, and he was sure as hell that his over protective Mother wasn't about to let him stay at the public school.

Blaine cocked an eyebrow, and tilted his head in a questioning look, a coy smile still present. "Why do you need to decide?" he asked, though quickly following it with "If you don't mind my asking," politely.

Shrugging, Artie lifted the cup to his lips and took a swig of the hot drink. "Transferring is kind of a big deal, yo," he replied, a slight smile on his face as he studied the other boy's expression. "Though I think it's a no-brainer, seeing as there are dorms available on the ground floor, and nobody around here is about to shove me and my chair down a staircase."

The three boys looked like they- did they flinch? A horrified expression was now present on Nick's face, Wes was shaking his head with a disgusted look, and Blaine was staring at him with wide eyes. "Someone actually did that?" he managed to force out after a few seconds of silence. Blaine shook his head lightly, a sad look in his eyes, as one of his hands darted out to rest atop Artie's in a comforting gesture. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled, brushing his thumb gently across the skin.

Gulping slightly, Artie offered them a shrug and an empty smile, glancing at his hand a few times. "That's why I'm probably transferring," he justified, ignoring the buzzing sound his phone was making from his lap – probably Sam's reply.

Heels could suddenly be heard, and Blaine's hand retracted from Artie's (much to his unexpected disappointment). "Arth- oh!" the receptionist was back, with a huge fake smile, rimmed with red lipstick, "I'd just come to fetch you while your Mom and Dad finish up in the office," she announced, looking at the three of the Dalton students sat near him. "Popular I see!" the woman squeaked happily, "How marvellous. Well, if you're ready, we should get going, sweetie."

Artie wanted to sink his head into his hands, but instead he quickly ran a hand through his hair, and smiled at his new found friends, moving his hands to the wheels of his chair.

"See you soon, blazer clad, Artie," winked Nick, sitting upright. He glanced down at his art book and cursed silently, having realised the damage he'd done the corner of it's cover.

Wes nodded in approval, seeming a rather regal character, "Enjoy your latte."

Artie's gaze flickered over to Blaine, whose sad expression had been replaced with an extraordinary smile. "If I don't see you back here soon, I'll search you out in Lima," he joked, cradling his coffee cup.

With a chuckle, Artie smiled at the three of them, and let out a sigh. He went to move his chair, but the receptionist latched onto the handles, and tugged him backwards, taking the movements out of his control."Oh!" she shrieked annoyingly, pushing the chair back, "Don't forget your coffee!" With an unamused expression, and a shared comical look between him and Wes, Artie took the cup before being guided out of the room and to the headmaster's office, where he found his parents shaking hands with the guy on the other side of the desk, a large amount of paperwork piled in front of them.

They turned to him, and his Mother, Julie, clapped her hands together in an excited manner. "It's done, honey!" she beamed, "Welcome to your future school!"


"I just... don't.. un...der... staaand," Tina blubbed, chest heaving up and down with her heavy intake of air. Mike's arms were wrapped around her, causing her to cry into his chest slightly. "We could've m-made it work.. D-done some...thing."

Artie sighed, wanting to go over and hug the girl, but instead staying put where he was – stuck in his chair in the middle of the choir room, in front of nearly a dozen shocked faces. "My Ma and Pa decided that it's the best thing to do," he reasoned, his eyes trailing over different members of the club he'd belonged to for a year and a half. Finn was looking dumbfounded, obviously having had no idea of the bullying that Artie had been subjected to. Rachel looked like she couldn't decide whether it was good that she'd have less competition for solos, or bad because the club had one less strong voice. Brittany looked a bit lost, as per usual, and strangely, Santana looked a little disappointed.

Seeing some movement, Artie's gaze flitted to the where it originated. Puck had got up and was making his way over to him, with a sad smile. The two of them had gotten quite close since he'd started tutoring him a few weeks ago. They'd always had a few things in common, but never attempted to create a friendship until it happened by accident. The best thing about it was that Noah seemed to scare off some of the bullies, seeing as he himself was known as one around the school. Unfortunately, he only scared them off when the two of them were next to one another, and seeing as Artie was the year below Noah, it didn't happen very often. He slapped a hand on Artie's shoulder, smiling down at him for a second before turning to all of the people seated in front of them. "So, my man Abrams is moving on," Puck said in a loud voice, "Of course, it's a shame, but we should all stop crying;" he gave a poignant look to Tina before continuing, "and be happy for the dude. I mean, it just sucks to be him, 'cause we're going to own the Garblers at sectionals."

At the end of Glee club after a few hugs and handshakes from the members, including the 'Partie handshake' as him and Noah called it, Artie waved off a considerably less-teary Tina, and it left just him and Sam in the choir room. The blond smiled at him, scooping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder as he walked over. "C'mon," he said, taking hold of the back of Artie's chair and aiding him in leaving the room. As they made their way down the near empty corridor, Sam let out a little sigh, obviously deliberating. "Do you have to go?" he asked, leaning over slightly, "I mean... it sucks you're going."

Artie laughed lightly, raising his arm and twisting his hand in a gesture slightly, "All the papers are done, and they're expecting me Monday, Sam." He shrugged his shoulders slightly, "It sucks, but it's gotta' happen, yo." His best friend sighed once more, and nodded his head – not that Artie could see it.

"Right," Sam confirmed, letting go of the chair to manoeuvre round and open the door for him. "It just sucks," he repeated, looking a little sad. Artie laughed, pushing his chair through the door, before turning slightly to look at Sam.

"Relax man," he said, folding his hands in his lap, and picking at one of the yellow fingerless gloves he wore, "We can still hang." The other smiled back at him, and they raised hands to bump fists together, as he nodded. "I'll see ya' round, Sam." His friend waved, walking down the accessibility ramp and off to the car park, out of sight, leaving Artie in front of the school building. He back his chair up a little, looking at the doors, and the letters fixed into the brick wall. "Bye, McKinley," Artie muttered, studying the corridor from through the window one last time, before turning away, to make his way home. It was time to move on.