Author's Note: Hi! I haven't written anything in a very long time. I got the idea to write a story about where Artie is now, after two failed relationships. For now, you'll only see Artie's name in the place where you stick featured characters. I don't think I'm going to tell you just yet what ship will sail, if any. Some of my ideas come from roleplay games I've been in. I'm planning to adapt a scene written by myself and another person later on. When that scene is used, I'll credit her. Enjoy! R&R please.

Artie Abrams awoke in disarray, initially unsure of where he was or how he'd gotten there. Sunlight streamed into a window, straight through his thin eyelids, abruptly altering the plan of continuing in his blissful slumber. Not that it had been all that blissful, sleeping on the sofa in Puck's basement. He'd had to ask his buddy with the mohawk to hunt down half a dozen pillows to create a sleeping surface that wouldn't put him at risk for pressure sores. The rest of the guys snored around him, all curled up in various locations on the floor with nothing but sleeping bags and one or two pillows. Well, all but Kurt. He'd disappeared to sleep upstairs in Puck's room around 1:00 AM. The liter of empty red plastic cups and pizza boxes had pushed their pristine friend to the limit. He swore that this would be his last summer slumber party with the rest of the guys. But they all knew he would be back. He always came back. He'd just probably bring Blaine for moral support next time.

Why did all the parties have to happen in basements? Rachel Berry's party had been in a basement, too. Not that his friends minded hauling his chair down, but Artie minded just a teensy bit. But he was never in the habit of telling his friends that he minded, especially when there was nothing anyone could do about it.

They'd been considerate enough to leave Artie and his wheelchair a clear path to the bathroom, the tiny one that was just barely wide enough to accommodate his chair. It was when he was moving himself from the sofa back into his chair that Artie noticed a little memento his friends had bestowed upon him during the night. They'd played the typical joke of messing with the first person to fall asleep, only Artie had been an especially easy target since he couldn't feel below his waist. His toenails were decorated with bright pink polish, obviously the work of an amateur pedicurist.

He eyed Sam and Puck snoozing nearby one another, almost too close for comfort. He'd bet anything it was those two. Puck probably swiped the polish from his little sister and got Sam to hold Artie's foot in the air. He considered what he could do to them, but the options were limited since Puck and Sam had feeling in all parts of their bodies. Deciding to give up the idea of revenge, Artie wheeled himself to the bathroom where he'd attempt to complete his usual morning routine in less than half the usual amount of space.

When Artie emerged from the cramped bathroom an hour and a half later, the other guys were still snoozing away. All but Sam, who had taken over the couch. He had also taken Artie's phone captive and looked a little guilty when Artie caught him in the middle of a game of Angry Birds. (Or maybe he was feeling guilty over the surprise pedicure they'd forced upon a sleeping Artie during the wee hours of the morning.) Since Artie knew Sam only had a crappy Walmart cell phone, he didn't hold it against the other guy. And then Sam relayed the text message Artie had received while he was in the bathroom.

"It's from Brittany and I think I've deciphered all the spelling errors," Sam announced, clearing his throat to read the text in a high voice that was supposed to be an impression of Brittany. "Hey, ex-boyfriend, I love you! How about going on a ReWalk in town today? I went to your house to pick it up. Your mom said it was okay. I'll be at Puck's to pick you up. See you soon!" Sam lowered the phone. "Wait, how's she getting here? In a car? She drives?"

Artie nodded as Sam shuddered slightly. It was strange how Brittany seemed to text and call more now than when they were dating. Perhaps she liked Artie better when she wasn't dating him. Her summer project was getting him to go places in his ReWalk. He didn't have the heart to tell her that the stares they got because of the bulky, noisy device made him very uncomfortable. It delighted her to see Artie "walking" again, even thought it wasn't quite the magical cure she'd been asking for at Christmas. He could never bring himself to tell her no. If this was the only way for him to see Brittany, so be it.

"Hey, Jake Sully, I have a question," Sam piped up, his fishy lips puckered in deep thought. Artie didn't mind the Avatar references by now; he was used to them. "How come you don't drive? You could, right? Like, they make special hand controls for cars, don't they? I saw it on TV."

"I plan to learn."

"When?"

"It's complicated."

Sam chewed his enormous lower lip. "Well, until then, you get to put your life in Brittany's hands." His fleshy lips then stretched across his face in a wide smile that soon had Artie grinning as well. "Hope you don't die."

"We're just going into town." Artie shrugged it off, but truthfully, her driving did make him a little nervous. She drove a sporty yellow Mustang convertible with no regard for the speed limit or yielding the right of way to others. She liked to blare songs by obscure girl groups of the nineties, like t.A.T.u or M2M or BeWitched. It was by sheer luck that she hadn't been in an accident.

"Etrìpa syayvi," said Sam.

Na'vi again. Artie had learned a few phrases for Sam's amusement during a recent attempt at male bonding. He did not, however, remember off-hand what etrìpa syayvi meant. In context, it wasn't too difficult to figure out that Sam was merely wishing Artie good luck. "Yeah, thanks."

Sam looked slightly disappointed that Artie didn't try to answer him in Na'vi.

Finn and Puck were awake now, which was lucky since Artie needed two or three of them to muscle him up the stairs when Brittany arrived a half an hour later. She stayed in her Mustang and honked three times to announce her arrival. He declined Puck and Sam's offer to hoist him into the car, maintaining that he could manage just fine on his own. Finn stuck his wheelchair in the back where it joined the ReWalk, which Brittany had already fetched from his house. With Brittany now transporting every piece of assistive equipment Artie owned, including Artie himself, there was plenty of reason to be wary of her driving. Sam said something else in Na'vi that probably meant don't get yourself killed. Artie just waved in reply as Brittany backed out of the driveway. She hopped the curb and giggled before straightening out the car.

"Let's go to the public library," said Brittany, throwing Artie for a loop. Not only that, but it was then that he noticed she was wearing glasses. Not only glasses, actually, but a short pleated skirt held up with suspenders, a white Oxford shirt with the top four buttons undone, and a red bra that peeked out conspicuously. The sudden makeover didn't puzzle him nearly as much as their new destination. The library?