Title: His Only Regret
Summary: A look back on Artie's life before and after the car crash that took away his ability to walk. Takes place during 'Wheels' and years before the 'Pilot'.
Author: Charlie-chan
He couldn't believe how he was feeling right now. It was a mixture of pure elation and appreciation towards his fellow Glee clubbers. Doing the energetic 'Proud Mary' music number with all of his friends was like a dream come true. He couldn't even describe how happy he was to be able to "dance" along side everyone in the wheelchairs. Finally he wasn't the only one pushing himself to the limit to keep up with the music and able-bodied students.
He looked around the room with a huge smile plastered on his face, watching as everyone was still chatting to each other excitedly and completely out of breathe from the exhausting number. Every so often someone would wheel up to him and pat him on the shoulder or give him a high five, smiling while they tried to catch their breathes still. Mr. Shuester walked up onto the stage and congratulated them all on a job well done.
"Guys, that was amazing! You all did such a fantastic job. I'm really proud of you all. I know this performance was really just for us but I appreciate the time and effort you gave to support Artie."
Artie's cheeks felt hot with embarrassment as he looked down into his lap, a prideful smirk upon his face.
"Alright guys, it's starting to get dark out and I don't want to keep you here any later. How about we pack up and head home and rest?"
And with that said, Artie sat back and watched as everyone simultaneously got up and out of their wheelchairs and started hurrying around gathering their belongings and putting away equipment. He watched as they grabbed their wheelchairs and pushed them towards the stairs that led off stage. Even Tina seemed to be in a rush to get out of the chair and go home. They still hadn't really made up since their fight the other day after she revealed her stutter was fake.
Suddenly, that overwhelming feeling of joy that had encompassed his entire being before had disappeared. His stomach twisted with a strange quenching feeling.
He nearly forgot, everyone else was just acting.
After the song, they were able to stand up out of the chairs and they wouldn't ever have to sit back in them after that night.
He didn't understand why, but he started thinking about the last time he was able to walk on his own.
He remembered it was the summer before he was going to start third grade. He had just turned eight years old a couple weeks earlier and was very excited to finally be on summer break. He had gotten the new Play Station video game system for his birthday but didn't have enough time during school to play it so he waited till the first day of summer to bust it out.
His father kept hanging around at his bedroom door with a soccer ball in his hand, trying to get him into the idea of joining the summer soccer team that his work was sponsoring.
"Come on, kiddo. All the other guys at work are gonna have their kids on the team. I'd really love it if you would join too," dropping the ball on the carpeted floor and gave it a slight kick till it rolled and came to a stop at Artie's leg, since he was sitting on the floor next to his bed. Shoving the ball away and not breaking eye contact with the TV screen as his fingers powered away at the controller in his hands.
"Dad, you know I have absolutely no coordination in this puny body of mine. Plus, I've never really been into sports. It would just be a mess. So thanks but no thanks."
Sighing, Mr. Abrams bends over and picks up the ball and walks out of the room with a disappointed look upon his face.
Artie continues playing his game for the rest of the day without giving his dad's proposal a second thought.
The next morning was like any other day in the Abrams household. Artie's father kisses his wife and children goodbye before he rushes out to go to the computer company that he works at. His mother scurries about the kitchen making breakfast for her two sons. Artie comes down the stairs of their two story home and slumps into the wooden dining room chair. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes he looks over to his younger brother who is squealing away in his high chair. He wonders how anyone could be so energetic so early in the morning.
"Well, good morning sleepy head. Nice of you to finally join the living today," Mrs. Abrams calls out over her shoulder from the kitchen.
Carrying over a platter of waffles and a jug of orange juice she sets them on the table and serves her two young sons breakfast.
"So, Artie, how would you like to spend time with mommy today? I have to drop your brother off at his weekly toddler gymnastics club and was going to run some errands in the mean time."
"But moooooom~ I'm almost at the final boss in my game! I don't wanna drive around with you all day. It will be sooo boring!" he replies like any other young boy his age would. He was too big to be hanging out with him mom all day, especially when he had a cool new game waiting for him in his room.
"Arthur. Abrams. You have played more than enough of that silly game yesterday," calming down her 'mother' voice she rests her hand on his, "I want to spend some quality time with you before you get all caught up with your summer fun. Do it just for me?"
Sighing, he pats his mom's hand and gives in.
"Fine. But only if I get out of diaper duty for the rest of the week. No wait, a month! I meant a month!"
Mrs. Abrams laughs at her son. He was always trying to make compromises for everything. She guessed he was just at that age.
"Fine. Deal?" she reaches over and they shake hands almost comically.
After they finish eating and getting ready for the day, they make their way to their car in the garage and pile in. Artie goes straight for the front passenger door when his mother gives him that knowing look.
"You know I don't like you riding up front."
Pouting and crossing his arms over his chest, he sits in the back seat next to his little three year old brother's car seat.
The rest of the day goes by rather smoothly. They dropped off little Kevin at the local Recreation Center and made their way around to various grocery stores, the bank and post office.
While they parked at the gas station, Artie quietly opens his door and sneaks up to the front seat of the car and just as quietly shuts the door.
When Mrs. Abrams returns from the gas pump she sees what he has done and gives him the same stern look.
"What did I say this morning?"
"Oh come on mom. It's sooo boring in the back seat and I can't see anything. You never let me ride shotgun." He tries to give her his best puppy dog impression of furrowed eyebrows and a quivering lip.
Sighing, she finally gives in.
"Fine, but buckle your seat belt extra tight."
Artie clicks the seat buckle into place and pulls it tight across his chest, turning and smiling at his mom.
Smiling back she starts the car and they start on their way back to the Rec Center to pick up her youngest son.
Glancing over at her older son, who's face was practically smashed up against the window watching the buildings and cars fly by, she can't help but smile. He was such a wonderful child. He never caused much trouble and always had such a cheery disposition. He often lost track of his priorities but nothing a little encouragement wouldn't fix.
"So, sweaty, I hear your dad is trying to get you to join the soccer team this summer?"
"Pish, yeah. But I don't wanna. I would totally suck."
"But you never know until you try. Plus it would make your father so proud to have his son on his company team. Can't you just give it one try?"
Looking down in his lap he goes silent for a few seconds before whispering, "But what if I'm so horrible at it that the other kids start picking on me again?"
Frowning a little bit at this, she thinks back to the numerous times that she remembers him coming home from school crying because of the school bullies picking on him for being so small or looking like a nerd and calling him four eyes when he first got prescribed glasses.
"Honey, don't worry about that. We'll get your dad off his lazy butt and train you into a champ. He may not look it, but before he got that potbelly of his, he used to be quite athletic."
Artie laughs at this. His dad wasn't that big of a man, more tall and lean, except that he had an unfortunate protruding belly from always sitting in front of computers for work.
He looks over to his mom and smiles his great white smile that she loves, "Okay! I'll give it a shot. Just for you."
"Alrighty! I'll call the coach and set up a tryout time for you and next week we ca-"
Before she can get the words out of her mouth she suddenly sees a large truck turn the corner ahead of them at a fast speed and racing directly towards their oncoming car.
Automatically she reaches her arm across the front seat to rest on her son's chest and swerves the car to get out of the way of the speeding oncoming truck but before she can fully turn, the car hits them head on; causing the car behind them to smash into their back, trapping them in between.
And with a loud crash, their entire world is drowned into a black darkness.
It was the piercing loud sound of the sirens that woke her up. Her eyes fluttering open and close until the last memory she had suddenly flooded into her mind and she snaps her eyes wide open in shock. Blinking the blood out of her vision, she tries to move her body but is stopped when a piercing pain courses through her. Her extended arm felt like it had snapped in half. Slowly she turns her head to the right and focuses her vision on the sight in front of her.
All she can make out is his small form pinned between the seat and crushed in dashboard, his head facing away from her, glass sprinkled all over. She can't even tell if he was breathing or not. Slowly she reaches a shaky hand towards him, despite the pain in her arm, just had to touch him. Suddenly, her vision is invaded by flashing red and blue lights. Before she knew it, the sounds of metal scraping on metal pierced through her hearing as the rescuers pry open her side of the car. Hands gently maneuvered her out of the driver's seat and pulled her out onto the road. As she is pulled back, her outreached arm got further and further away from her child's still body. Screaming and flailing she tries to sit up to crawl back into the car but there are so many hands holding her back down.
She eventually gives up and lays there and just lets the strange hands work on her; tears stream down her face as she silently sobs.
Images of her son being zipped up into a black plastic bag invade her mind and she lets out a few gasps of air. She could never forgive herself if her son died. But she also couldn't have been more grateful that her other son was safe at his toddler club.
Eventually she is lifted onto a gurney with a neck brace on and her right arm secured down over her chest as they move her into the back of an ambulance. Trying to lift her head up as much as she can to see if she can catch a glimpse of Artie, she calls out his name over and over.
"Artie? Artie! Please, someone! Tell me my boy is okay! Please! Anybody!"
A white gloved hand rests on her good shoulder and a calm voice speaks to her. "Ma'am. Please, you've got to calm down. You've just been in a car accident." The voice goes silent for a moment and speaks again, "You're son is alive. But he's hurt- real bad. They're still trying to get him out of the car."
A bittersweet smile takes over her frown as she thanks the heavens that he is still alive. And with that final though her eyes flutter shut and she falls into a deep slumber.
It was a couple days later in the hospital when Mrs. Abrams was finally able to take off the neck brace when the doctors were sure she didn't sustain any injuries to her neck to require it any longer. Her arm was set in a sling since it had broken in the crash. She was told numerous times how lucky she was to have escaped that horrible car crash with only a broken bone and some cuts and bruises.
It turned out that the person in the truck that had hit them was high on some kind of drugs and was completely out of his mind when he turned onto that road. He was flung from his truck during the impact because he hadn't bothered to put on a seatbelt during his drug induced rampage and had died instantly. The people in the cars behind them had made it out just fine.
The only one left was Artie. Who was presently laying in the white hospital bed in front of her.
Leaning over the mattress and taking his small hand into hers, she places a soft kiss on his forehead and leans back into the visitors chair, still holding tight to his hand.
Her husband is sitting next to her, holding Kevin to his chest as he sleeps.
After he had gotten the call that his wife and son had been in a terrible accident he rushed to the hospital, not knowing what to expect once he arrived. He had his wife's friend pick up Kevin from the Rec Center and watch over him while he looked over his wife and other son at the hospital.
When he had arrived, Artie was in surgery and his wife was sitting up right in the hospital bed staring blankly forward.
He had ran up to her and embraced her as tightly as he could while being careful around her injuries. She suddenly whispered something inaudible into his ear. He had pulled back and held his hands on each of her shoulders and stared her straight in the face.
"Honey, what is it? I can't understand you."
Closing her eyes tightly and opening them with tears on the brim of her lashes she spoke again, louder this time, "It's all my fault.. It's all my fault. He didn't even want to come out with me today. And then I let him sit in the front seat with me. And now.. Oh god, it's all my fault!"
Mr. Abrams pulled her close into his broad chest and stroked her hair, shushing and rocking her back and forth in as much of a comforting way as he could muster.
When Artie was finally released from the operating room after many painfully long hours of operating and taken to the ICU, the performing surgeon sat the Abrams down and calmly explained what their son's current situation was.
"The force of the impact of the cars hitting you from the front and back had fractured his back and severely damaged his spinal cord. We tried to save as much as we could by operating on the spinal cord and inserting a temporary metal rod around his spinal column but the outlook doesn't look good, I'm afraid."
Mr. Abrams was the first to speak up.
"What.. what does this mean for our son, doctor?"
Pulling off his surgical hat and crumpling it in his hands, he looked up at them with the most pitiful stare and told them straight out.
"We believe he will live. But with the extent of his injuries, he will be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. I truly am sorry, we tried our best." And with that he gave one last look at the couple and walked away as they cried into each other's arms.
Authors Notes: I've had this little story brewing in my mind since back when we discovered the truth behind Artie's paraplegia in 'Wheels'.
I was planning on making this just a one-shot but it turned out longer than I thought so I'm just splitting it into two parts.
Please review and tell me what you think so far! ^__^ Thanks for reading!
Edit: Sorry for any grammatical mistakes and whatnot. Super tired and lazy today but was feeling too inspired to not write it up. But I did go back and try and rewrite some of the sentences that I slipped up on. I hope I did them correctly. Past/Present tenses are the hardest thing for me I guess, lol. Hopefully if they are all still wrong, it's not too distracting as you read. Sorry!