"Er, Artie?"
Artie swiveled in his chair to see Kurt Hummel peering at him through the darkness from inside his Navigator. Fan-freaking-tastic.
"Um, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" he shoots back rudely, hoping Kurt will take the hint and leave.
"It looks like you're sitting in the middle of Tina's lawn at one in the morning during a thunderstorm holding a boom box that's probably going to electrocute you any moment now."
Or maybe he won't take the hint.
"If you must know," Artie sniffs, adjusting his glasses and gathering the shattered remnants of his dignity, "I'm winning Tina back."
"Ah."
Kurt doesn't speak for a few moments, but the steady hum of his engine alerts Artie he hasn't left yet. He hopes against hope that Kurt will decide that watching the back of Artie's head is boring, or remember that there's an America's Next Top Model marathon on tonight on Oxygen or decide that this entire situation is too pathetic for words (which it very might be, even he has to admit) and leave him alone.
"Is it working?"
No such luck.
The faintly amused note in Kurt's voice kind of makes Artie want to turn around and hurl the boom box at his so-called friend's head, but he knows he can't because it's an integral part of his master plan (which is so going to work, he reassures himself, ignoring that kernel of doubt that has invaded the back of his mind).
Instead, he continues to stare up at Tina's window and answers in a controlled, level voice: "The thunderstorm is proving to be a slight obstacle, but once it quiets down I'm sure it'll go off without a hitch."
"Ah."
He really wishes Kurt would stop saying that. He can practically hear the judgment and skepticism radiating off of him, and it's doing nothing to assuage his ever-growing concern that ok, maybe this wasn't the single greatest idea of all time as he'd thought three hours (and two swiped bottles of beer) ago.
"Well, not to be a killjoy, but if any part of your master plan involves Tina being within a fifteen mile radius of you at this point, I think you're going to be sorely disappointed."
His mouth is halfway open to chew out Kurt for the entirely sarcastic tone he'd adopted when he'd said 'master plan' when his brain actually processes the words.
"Wait, what?"
Or, maybe not entirely processes. He is still working off a slight buzz, after all.
Kurt sighs, and Artie still isn't facing him but he knows he's rubbing the bridge of his nose like he always does while dealing with Finn when he's being particularly dense, or when Rachel goes off on one of her tangents that begin with "My two gay dads," and end in Mr. Schue confiscating the scrunchie-slingshot Santana is aiming at her.
"I just left Mercedes' house. Tina is spending the night over there. So unless you were planning on using Peter Gabriel to serenade her parents, John Cusack style, you're out of luck."
"Oh."
The water dripping down his cheeks is from the rain. The stinging in his eyes is from the sharp winds. That's his story and he's sticking to it, thank you very much.
"Do you want to get in the car? I'm letting all the heat out with the windows open."
"Well then why don't you just leave? I didn't ask you to come here." Artie's voice is cutting and harsh, and he feels bad the second the words leave his mouth, but then, what else is new? There he goes again, the stupid cripple screwing up yet another relationship. He should start keeping a tally.
Kurt is silent for a while, and it occurs to Artie that he can no longer hear the engine running in the background. He's wiping his cheeks (from the rainwater, that is) and trying not to curse the fact that he just drove away his only way home when he hears an undignified cry and his chair is suddenly pushed a few inches forward in the mud.
He turns to see Kurt leaning heavily on it, his legs splayed out awkwardly, his arms balancing him as he tries to regain his footing in the slippery grass.
Artie continues to watch in slight amusement, and with a sense of relief that he's not left alone, as Kurt relinquishes his death grip on his chair and tries uncomfortably to bend to the ground in a way that will do the least damage to his outfit. When he finally gives up and unceremoniously drops to his knees to sit cross legged beside him Artie can't help but feel oddly touched.
Kurt brushes his bangs out of his eyes and tries valiantly to adopt an expression that's more 'ready to listen and be supportive for a friend in need,' and not some variation of 'utterly disgusted by what he's doing.'
"On second thought, I think I'd rather be in the car," Artie says cheekily, his voice all false cheer.
The murderous look in Kurt's eyes makes him regret his ill-timed joke, and he offers a sheepish grin as an apology.
"Do not make me cut you, Abrams. We're here, and we're staying here until either you can come up with a fool-proof way to get stains out of Armani or you spill whatever half-baked scheme you've worked out for yourself here."
Now Artie really regrets not just getting in the damn car when he had the chance. He has no doubt that Kurt will actually push him into a sewer if he's made him wreck his clothes for nothing. He's really been spending too much time with Mercedes.
"Is that the glee club's stereo?"
Artie glances at his lap, where the sticker emblazoned "Property of McKinley High" is indeed visible on the boom box.
"Uh, yeah. I didn't really have my own, and I didn't think iPod speakers would have quite the same effect, even if the acoustics might be slightly improved."
"Right. Because the only reason Tina wouldn't take you back would be your lack of proper equipment to recreate a classic movie scene."
He tries his best to shoot that "wither up and die" look that Kurt has so perfected right back at him. Judging by his friend's raised eyebrow and slight smirk, it doesn't work as well as he hoped.
"It's not like Mr. Schue will miss it for one night."
"No, but now that you've done permanent damage to it by getting it soaked he might not be so forgiving. Which brings me conveniently to my next point: is there any particular reason you decided to enact this plan during the second-coming of the great flood without an umbrella?"
"I didn't think to check the weather. Other than that, it was perfectly planned and would've undoubtedly been successful."
"Aside from the fact that the object of your affections isn't actually present, that is."
"Yeah. Aside from that."
"And the fact that she's currently dating one of your closest friends."
This time Artie opts to impersonate Mercedes, and gives Kurt his very best 'bitch, please,' expression. "Closest friends? That jerk stole my girlfriend. He's not my friend."
"Come on, Artie." Kurt's voice is softened somewhat now. "Mike didn't steal her, you just lost her. And reenacting John Cusack's classic declaration of love from Say Anything in her front yard, no matter how romantic it might be, isn't going to make her magically forget the way you treated her. That's not how the world works."
Artie isn't quite ready to let go of his fantasy just yet though, mostly because it was such a damn good one. One that involved Tina's face lighting up when she looked out her window and saw him there; Tina running into his waiting arms; Tina dumping Mike in front of everyone and then coming back to make out with him passionately.
"It works for Puck and Finn all the time," he says stubbornly.
Kurt sighs, and he detects a bit of sadness that he can't quite place in his eyes. "Yes, but we aren't Puck and Finn, Artie."
Artie looks away dejectedly; he knows he's right. "Why can't we be? Just this once?" His voice sounds small and pathetic to his own ears, and Kurt's looking at him sympathetically, and just a tad too knowledgeably.
"I don't know."
They sit there for a while longer. The rain slows to a stop and Artie wonders if he can blame the condensation in the air for the wetness on his cheeks before realizing that Kurt really doesn't care.
"On the bright side," Kurt says finally, "We have far better personal hygiene than either of them."
Artie snorts unattractively. "I suppose that's true. I'm a little shocked that my nose didn't fall off when I was in that locker room, I have no clue how you survived it."
"Believe me, I was spraying all their clothes with Febreze when they weren't looking. Which, by the way, trying out for the football team? I'm flattered, really, but you couldn't come up with something a little more original?"
Artie mumbles unintelligibly into his collar and avoids Kurt's eyes.
"What was that?"
"I wanted abs."
"Ah."
"You know, you really need to choose a new word to voice your disapproval with. This 'ah' thing is getting annoying."
"Well, you could just stop saying monumentally stupid things. That might be easier on both of us."
This might be true, but it didn't make it any less annoying to hear, especially coming from the mouth of one of his supposed closest friends.
"It wasn't stupid," he defends petulantly. "Mike has great abs, I don't. Tina told me that."
"Yes, Mike does have a fantastic body," Artie clears his throat and Kurt glares at him harshly, "but he also watches Casanova with her and takes her to concerts in Columbus, and calls her every night. You didn't. Or so Tina says."
"Wait, you guys have been talking about this?"
Kurt shrugs, either oblivious or more likely indifferent to the angry tone of Artie's voice. "Mercedes and I wanted to know why you guys broke up, and you weren't answering your phone or door. So we asked Tina."
"Yeah, I saw you and Mercedes dancing with them. Guess I know whose side you're really on." In some distant part of his mind he knew just how childish he was being, and judging by the way Kurt pursed his lips in annoyance he knew it too.
"I wasn't aware I had to choose sides. Can't I feel bad for you at the same time as being happy for them?"
"No."
"Ah. Well too bad, because I do."
Artie doesn't really know how to respond to that. He thinks it's totally unfair: Tina gets to rebound immediately and he's stuck being the sad sack mourning their relationship, getting drunk and hatching idiotic plans at obscene hours of the night.
"For the record, if Tina's parents come out here I'm running."
"Thanks so much for the support," he deadpans, picking at his fingernails.
"No way am I starting off this year getting arrested for stalking."
"Does she at least miss me?"
The abrupt subject change startles Kurt, who eyes him for a few moments, as if deciding how to answer.
"Yes. She misses the version of you who was sweet and kind to her. She doesn't miss the Halo champion."
"So, if this was a bad idea, how do I win her back?"
"First off: no if. This was a dreadful idea, and I'm assuming you only decided to go through with it due to some temporary lapse in sanity. Secondly, while I pride myself in being an expert in many different subjects, if you're coming to me for romantic advice you're drunker than I thought."
That was probably true.
And given the fact that Kurt just poked him hard in the side, he'd probably said that last bit out loud.
"Just be her friend for a while. Try to think about what she wants, not what you want. Don't try to sabotage her relationship with Mike. If it's meant to be, she'll come back eventually."
"I guess. I just-I really loved her, you know?"
Kurt sighs and looks at him sadly. "I know. She didn't though. You might want to get better at showing that."
"Yeah, I guess so."
They're quiet for a few minutes after that; Artie busy reminiscing on his spectacularly failed venture into the forays of teenaged love.
"Well, now that I've done irreparable damage to one of my favorite pairs of pants, do you think you're ready to move this pity-party somewhere dry?"
Artie smiled and, shooting one last longing look at his ex-girlfriend's window, nodded. "All right. Can you give me a lift home?"
"Of course. Out of curiosity, how did you get here in the first place?" Kurt starts pushing his chair out of the mud with great effort, and Artie can feel him huffing with exertion behind him.
"I, uh, wheeled myself. I can be very determined when drunk."
"I can see that," Kurt mumbled, slightly out of breath.
It takes them a few minutes of awkward fumbling to work out the logistics of getting Artie from his chair and into Kurt's inconveniently huge car.
"You know, the whole 'you carrying me' thing might work better if you'd touch me somewhere below my chest."
He can see the flush on Kurt's pale cheeks in the streetlight, and immediately regrets saying it. "I mean, I don't mind." Flashing his friend a quick and sincere smile, he's rewarded with a hesitant one in return.
Finally, and with great effort (Kurt's hardly going to be trying out for McKinley Highs bodybuilding club anytime soon, that much is clear) Artie is finally safe inside the car and slamming the door shut beside him. A couple minutes later and the trunk is closed with the wheelchair inside and Kurt is getting situated next to him.
The drive back to Artie's is done with relatively little talking, aside from a brief argument over the radio station that Kurt ends with a swift slap to the other boy's hand. As they pull up to Artie's driveway Kurt turns to face him again.
"Now, before I let you out of this car, promise me that next time you feel the overwhelming urge to hatch some melodramatic plan to win Tina back through a nineties pop culture reference, you'll call me first so I can talk you off that ledge. Or, at the very least, check the weather forecast."
Artie rolls his eyes and replies, "Eighties. Say Anything was released in 1989." At Kurt's raised eyebrow he adds, "Don't ever say I don't research my idiotic schemes throughly."
As Kurt laughs and hops out of his car to retrieve the wheelchair, Artie thinks that maybe life is still a monumental pile of suckitude, but at the very least, he does have some good, loyal friends in the glee club (excluding that traitor, Mike).
But this isn't an after school special, and he's still a heartbroken teenager, so a week later Artie is back on the street in front of Tina's house trying valiantly to ignore Kurt's entirely exasperated voice coming from within his Navigator saying, "Is that the music from The Way We Were? Really? She's not Rachel Berry!"
It's not raining though. So maybe he did learn something.
"Seriously, Artie, have you ever even seen the movie?"
(OK, this one wasn't throughly researched.)