Hey guys…I haven't abandoned my other story, ok? I just sat down to write chapter five of "Getting yourself together" and ended up with this. It's set on the same "universe" by the way (but you don't necessarily have to read both, only if you want to make me a happy girl!) Artie has this darkness about him that makes him a great character, but also a bit painful to work with. Anyway, hope you enjoy it! Glee is not mine (unfortunately). Neither is Fleetwood Mac.
Artie rolled his wheelchair through the halls of Berkeley. He looked around, pretty satisfied with himself. This was his dream come true. To go to the university he wanted…and so far away from home. Far away from help, if he needed it.
It had been hard for his parents to accept that he would move to an estate the other side of the country. They'd taken a lot of convincing and still called him several times a day asking if he was okay, whether he was having any trouble. His mom even offered to go and live with him. He had told her a resounding no to that proposal. He'd be the laughing stock. Plus he had to learn to fare for himself. He knew his parents wouldn't always be around for him, so he might as well start getting used to it. That was one argument hard to beat. On top of that he had the fact that Berkeley was one of the best universities in the country. With that, and after learning how to drive a special car, he packed and left for California.
He still fell a lot and often injured himself, sometimes having to bother his colleagues, but he was doing pretty well for himself. He made a point to be as nice as possible to everyone, and since – unlike in high school – people actually looked up to intelligence, he was quite well liked. So he was hardly ever alone.
All in all he had come far ever since leaving high school. He did well on his Computer Science major; and made a living for himself by giving maintenance to Puck's discount website.
It was one day, going back to his apartment – yes, he even had his own apartment off campus, that was how well the website was doing – that he saw a colleague playing on his guitar, on the green, lush grass in front of Berkeley's main building. He recognized the song. It was "Never Going Back Again" by Fleetwood Mac.
He hadn't performed publicly since leaving Mckinley High. He didn't know if it had been that or the fact that particular song brought so many memories back, but he joined the guitar player with his vocals.
And as he sang, a funny thing happened: instead of seeing the people who had gathered around to enjoy the performance, he saw the halls of Mckinley. And walking around them was Brittany. His Brittany.
He remembered her laughter; her sweetness; the fact that she hardly treated him any different than she would anyone else; and how the only thing she ever asked was that he wouldn't treat her differently because of who she was. And he had done exactly that and screwed it all up.
He knew pretty much everyone there was to know, and everyone was nice to him. Some didn't bother to get to know him; some were open minded and looked past the fact that he was in a wheelchair to what he really was. But he hadn't had a real girlfriend since Brittany.
He couldn't, didn't want to depend on anybody, and he knew if he found someone, he would most likely fall into a nurse-patient trap. She, at first, wouldn't mind helping him around, doing little "sweet" things for him, like driving him somewhere. But she would, eventually, resent him for it. Resent him for the things he wouldn't be able to do; the things he couldn't provide. The last thing he ever wanted to be was a burden to someone.
So he couldn't, and wouldn't, get involved in a relationship. Not until he got pretty used to living alone and being on his own so that he would be strong enough to say no when someone tried to take over for him.
But with Brittany it hadn't been like that. He didn't depend on her; they complemented each other. He depended on her the same way she depended on him. They gave each other what the other lacked. And he, scared that she would break that fragile, yet perfect, balance, ended up cutting the line. And now it was too late to do something about it, because she was with Santana.
Santana was a force of nature. She loved Brit with a fierceness that he'd never seen on anyone else. She was this lioness that was capable of great care and terrible turmoil. She was only as capable of hurting Brittany as she was capable of loving her.
Artie's love had been serene most of the time. It was only when he let his insecurities plague him that things got rough. Otherwise, it was a rather smooth course. Jealousy existed, yes. But she was incapable of being anything but honest about things, and that was what endeared him the most. He could never, ever, have stayed mad at her for too long.
He missed her. He missed her and therefore chose not to contact her, even though she sometimes tried to reach him online, and he just ignored her. He knew it probably hurt her feelings, so he wished he could apologize for that. For that and for calling her stupid.
He didn't find her stupid. Not at all. She was, as a matter of fact, the bravest person he knew. She never once gave a thought to any implications dating a guy on a wheelchair might have. She chose her happiness over popularity when she quit the Cheerios. She didn't care what people thought of her falling in love with another girl. She faced things head on.
She gave him something he hadn't given himself: credit. He thought himself unable to give her all the things she needed, when the only thing she'd wanted from him was his compassion. She, in the end, had been his inspiration for chasing his dreams in California.
And now he was living those dreams. Alone.
The song ended to thunderous applause from the surrounding crowd. He hadn't noticed, until now, that lots of people had stopped to hear them. The guy from the guitar high-fived him and went to talk to a couple of friends. He was, in turn, approached by a pretty, petite Asian girl that he recognized from one of his classes.
"Hi. We're in the same Concepts of Programming Languages class" she told him sweetly. He looked up, recognizing her as the quiet girl who always sat at the front. "Yeah" He said, slowly. He had always found her beautiful, but never had had the nerve to tell her. " I mean, I hate that subject. That Indian guy who wrote the text book is simply crazy. You can't understand a word he wrote" She laughed a little at that. "I agree. So…what are you doing now? I was heading to a bar with some friends…wanna come with?"
Artie looked down at his hands for a few seconds, secretly smiling. Then he looked back up. "Sure. I just have to get something in my place, and then I'll meet you guys there, ok?"
The pretty girl agreed with a smile and shouted, as she went the other way "It's karaoke night!" He smiled as well.
He had to send an e-mail thanking Brittany.
Did you guys like it? No? I would love to improve. Please review!