An authors note...The last chapter definitely held clues of what is to come, kudos to those who picked up on that! I've been wondering if the reason interest in this story is waning so considerably is just because it's progressing a little slowly, and hopefully not because people are unhappy with it(or me). Which is why I also feel the need to apologize for any confusion resulting from the last chapter. I only asked opinions because I love reader involvement and am very curious about what you'd like to see in this story. I thank those of you who were kind enough to leave me those messages. I appreciate all the support and feedback.
Disclaimer-Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers.
Beauty and the Geek
Just as Artie predicted, the mood in the house had completely changed, almost overnight, and seemed to be fading more and more with each passing day.
Alicia became quieter than usual, withdrawn and overly emotional. Anything could potentially bring her to tears, a particular song, a television commercial...the simple sight of Artie entering the room. Quinn caught Alicia on more than one occasion, having to turn away so her son wouldn't see her wipe her eyes.
Art was harder to read. One minute he was laughing and making jokes, or trying to get the others involved in different activities, the next, he was watching his son, wife, or both, with a guilt-ridden expression...almost like he felt singly responsible for what took place that day.
It was obvious that Andy harbored his own feelings of residual guilt, however buried he tried to keep them, but stayed pretty true to character...only this week, he made sure to avoid his family even more than usual.
Abbey was always an extremely observant child, and finally old enough to be painfully aware of what was going on around her. She may not have been around when the accident happened, but she was a direct result of it. It was also suspected that the little girl was just now starting to realize what that meant.
And Quinn was at a complete loss. She didn't know what to do, or how to act...this type of thing had never happened to anyone in her biological family. No one had ever been in a car accident worse than a small fender bender, much less a major collision with life altering results. And Artie wasn't just anyone...he was her boyfriend.
...
The day arrived without any bells, whistles or fan fare...just the wailing of her almost twelve week old daughter. Quinn tried feeding, burping, pacing, singing, changing, bouncing...but nothing she did, got Caroline to settle down. It was as if the baby could sense the tension flowing through the house.
Tiptoeing down the stairs just after 6am, almost two hours since the baby woke her up, Quinn was in desperate need of some coffee. When she reached the kitchen, to her surprise, a fresh pot had already been brewed and Alicia looked to be already on her second cup.
"Oh God, her fussing didn't wake you up, did it?" Quinn groaned apologetically.
Alicia's tired smile was forced and never quite reached her eyes but her expression was genuine. "No Sweetie, I just couldn't sleep."
Quinn was just about to let out a sigh of relief when another voice rang out from behind. "I couldn't sleep either."
Artie.
Quinn was hoping to have at least a little bit of individual time to get comfortable around each of them, before being thrust into the emotion of the day. But here she was, smack in the middle between the two people she cared about most in this world...the two people most affected by this accident...
"Who's making all that noise?"
A small smile tugged at Quinn's lips, she couldn't help it, Artie's voice was like music to her ears. Even more melodic was the tone of normalcy and mirth it held, something she wasn't expecting to hear today. "Your soon-to-be Goddaughter...that's who," she quipped pointedly and turned on her heel to face him.
Artie's lingering gaze shifted from his mother over to Quinn, and the tense line of his lips pulled up into a genuine grin as he reached out for the fussy bundle, "Here, hand her over."
"Gladly," Quinn returned with a gentle playfulness and passed Caroline over. But the sight of Artie cuddling her daughter tugged stronger at her heart than it usually did, and Quinn suddenly felt the urge to cry.
Ironically, it was Alicia who saved Quinn from her own emotions. "Coffee, Quinn?" Mrs. Abrams voice cracked and she needed to clear her throat after, but she'd managed to get the words out, and just in time.
"Yes, please," was the reply and Quinn graciously accepted the steaming mug. "Thank you." But instead of taking a sip from it, she hesitated a moment, then placed it down on the counter top and wrapped her arms around Alicia.
The embrace must have taken the older woman by surprise, because it took her a moment to hug back. Once she did however, she held on tightly. Quinn could hear the soft sniffles Alicia was trying to hide before she could feel the warm tears drop to her shoulder.
"Thank you," Alicia whispered moments later. The appreciation was evident in her voice, though her tone made it clear it had nothing to do with pouring a simple cup of coffee.
With one small exchange of affection complete, Quinn walked over to give another that had been previously overlooked. She sat on the chair next to Artie and gently cupped his cheek in her hand before leaning in to softly kiss him on the lips. "I didn't say good morning to you before because I wasn't sure that was the right thing to say."
Artie gave a small dismissive shrug and let out a breathy chuckle, "It's definitely a good morning when it starts out like that...no matter what the day."
He was rewarded with a sweet smile from her and a cup of coffee from behind, fixed just the way he liked it...accompanied by his daily dose of cranberry juice, of course. Glancing up, Artie gave the hand on his shoulder a squeeze. "Thanks Mom."
Alicia pressed a lingering kiss to the top of his head. "So, what do you two have planned for...today?," she asked once her back was turned and she was hopefully far enough away that they wouldn't hear the waiver in her voice.
Artie looked questioningly at Quinn, wondering if that was some sort of trick question...neither had anything planned. "I guess we could take Caroline for an extra long walk," he suggested casually, but purposely avoided any eye contact with his mother since she'd probably be cringing at his use of the word 'walk'. "It's early enough to do that and still have you back in time to go to work."
"I'm, um...not going to work today."
"Quinn?"
She let out a sigh at the exasperation in his tone. "I haven't missed a day yet," she replied in defense of her decision. "And I didn't want you guys to have the added stress of having to take care of Caroline on top of everything else." There was a slight pause as she entwined her fingers with his and began to slowly caress his knuckles with her thumb. "Besides...I wanted to be here, in case you needed me."
Artie gave an appreciative nod and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. Damn, he wasn't expecting her words to affect him like that, but then again, he wasn't expecting a gesture quite so significant. Suddenly, the quickening pace of little feet slapping against the hardwood could be heard and he was able to recover sufficiently. "Where's the fire Squirt?"
"Huh?," Abbey asked breathlessly, as she skidded into the room. Her tone was a mixture of confusion and sleepiness, but also of complete and utter relief...very much like her expression.
Artie lips twitched upwards. "Why did you almost fly past the kitchen?" he asked even though it was obvious she was on her way to his bedroom.
Being mindful of Caroline, Abbey carefully climbed onto Artie's opposite thigh and rested her head against his shoulder. "I got scared...nobody was upstairs, well Daddy is, but he's taking a shower..."
"Wasn't Andy up there?" Quinn cut in casually.
Abbey shook her head while letting out a huge yawn. "He's not home. He slept over at Harry's...today's his birthday."
Quinn immediately began to berate herself...How could she have forgotten that? "Right."
"It's kind of their thing," Artie supplemented while giving a dismissive shrug, then turned his attention back to his little sister. "You wanna talk about it?" Biting down on her lower lip to stop it from trembling, Abbey just shook her head and curled herself against Artie's chest. The meaningful exchange between mother and son was not lost on Quinn, nor was the pained tone of Alicia's voice when she announced she was going to make some pancakes for breakfast.
...
The day went on like it had begun, periods of normalcy mixed with somber and uncomfortable moments. Artie was talkative for the most part, dropping tiny details of the day, here and there...like how it was raining that morning, but cleared up in the early afternoon...how he wanted blueberry pancakes for breakfast, but got cereal instead, which also explained why his mother makes that very breakfast for him every chance she gets...the baseball in the toilet tale...what he ate for lunch...
"Jelly sandwich and celery with peanut butter and raisins."
"Ants on a log, I loved those as a kid," Quinn returned, smiling softly. "But why make both...why not just have a PB&J?"
"I wasn't very good at spreading, and always ended up tearing the bread," he admitted sheepishly. "Normally I wouldn't have cared so much, but I was making one for Mom and I didn't want it to look too disgusting."
Quinn's smile widened for a few seconds, then turned wistful. "We could make something else if you want," she suggested, mid peanut butter pass.
"It's Abbey's favorite, and one of the few things I'm good at making," Artie countered as he tucked the jar in his lap, and waited patiently for Quinn to hand him the bread next. "Plus, after the morning she had, she could probably use some comfort food.
"Yeah, what happened?" Quinn pressed worriedly. "I've never seen her so clingy."
"I can't be sure because she hasn't said anything to confirm it, but if I had to venture a guess, I'd say she had another one of her nightmares," Artie deduced, pushing off for the table.
"A nightmare about the accident?" Artie nodded affirmatively at Quinn's incredulous question. "But she wasn't even conceived yet."
"It appears I'm not the only one in this family with a ridiculously overactive imagination," he quipped, but his tone quickly turned flat and his gaze dropped to his hands. "Usually it's just me who dies, but I think this time it was Mom too. She's hanging to both of us pretty tightly."
That easily explained why Abbey was either in Artie's lap, or hot on Alicia's heels, but..."She has dreams you died?" The words caught in Quinn's throat, tangled with a large bobbing lump. Tears sprang to her eyes when Artie nodded again and she cried, "Oh my God...that must be so awful. I can't even imagine..."
He tilted his head to the side and flashed a slightly teasing smirk before taking her hands in his and pulling her onto his lap. "What? Her dreaming about it or me actually dying."
Sniffling back the tears, Quinn smacked him hard across the chest, "Don't even joke like that."
"But I didn't die...see I'm fine," Artie countered reassuringly. "And aside from the obvious, my other injuries were fairly insignificant." There was a pause as he tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and placed a kiss to her temple. "Believe me Quinn, I'm not planning on going anywhere for a really long time."
"Good," Quinn whispered, snuggling deep into his embrace, "because I don't plan on letting you go for a really long time."
...
They had already taken Caroline for a walk, been swimming, and more recently, watched a few mindless television shows, and had lunch. Quinn had begun to notice that the closer it got to 3:37 pm, the less effective her distractions were becoming. "You wanna help me sort through some pictures?" she asked in a rush of breath. It was getting harder coming up with things to do now that Alicia, Abbey and Caroline were all napping, but this just seemed so lame...even to Quinn.
"Um sure." Luckily Artie didn't seem to care and sounded genuinely grateful for the diversion as he prepared to transfer.
"You can stay on the couch," Quinn insisted, but he was already half way back into his chair. "I don't mind doing this in here."
Artie raised a speculative brow to match his smirk, then got to quick work arranging his legs. "I've seen all the picture you've taken...there is no way they're all going to fit on this little coffee table. Plus, a table that we don't have to bend forward to reach would probably be much more comfortable to work at." Done, he glanced up and smiled. "So what's your pleasure, dinning room or kitchen?"
"Kitchen," Quinn smiled back, "it has better light."
Quinn hadn't realized how frustrating it would become having to pick out the best photos. Each one was more adorable than the next...precious moments, funny faces, cute smiles...and they weren't even half way through the month yet.
"I'm beginning to wonder who there are more pictures of...us or Caroline,"Artie quipped playfully. She must have printed off copies of every single shot on her memory card.
"Well, we are pretty cute together," she returned, just as sweet.
"You know, Mom's got a ton of extra scrap-booking stuff in the office closet...," he suggested casually. "And I'm sure she wouldn't mind if we used one of her empty albums..."
"Wait, you want to scrap-book with me?" Quinn cut in skeptically.
"No," Artie countered with a soft chuckle, "but I do want a photo album with all of our pictures in it."
Quinn's heart swelled to the point it felt as though it was going to burst right out of her chest. He was just so damn lovable. "Okay, you go get whatever pictures you have in your room, and I'll get the supplies," she instructed, but not before pressing her lips to his for a delightful kiss.
"Hey, what's taking you so long?" Artie called out when he returned to the room about ten minutes later. But seeing Quinn partially wedged inside the closet gave him all the answer he needed.
"I found the supply cart and some extra materials, but I can't find any albums."
"Did you look up top yet?"
Quinn glanced up at the shelf above her head and sighed. "I'm going to need a step ladder."
"I can help you with that" Artie sounded gracious enough when he offered the use of his arm rests to hoist her to that height, but as soon as she noticed his eyes drifting elsewhere...
"Creep. You just want to look up my dress," she scoffed playfully as she hopped back down.
"No Quinn really..."
"Liar."
It was so nice to see him blushing and smirking and laughing along, forgetting all about his troubles, that Quinn almost relented. Almost...
Climbing onto the step ladder she'd retrieved from the laundry room, Quinn reached for the first box on the shelf. "You stay back there until I call for you," she warned Artie with all the mock authority she could muster. He was clearly having way too much fun with this, if the impish grin plastered all over his face was any indication.
Quinn passed three boxes of 'Mom's tax stuff' down, before she came to an unmarked box. It was only after she'd handed it to him that she noticed the bold black print scrawled on the other side. "Artie wait...give me that one back."
"Why?" he asked, and like a magnet was drawn to the writing.
"Maybe you shouldn't look at that today," Quinn gave the gentle suggestion.
"Why not?" he asked again, this time gave an indifferent shrug along with it. "It's just my stuff from the hospital." Quinn was still not convinced this was a good idea, but as he slowly lifted the top off the box, she became more curious as to what was inside. She didn't see the harm in looking, and maybe this was just the thing to get him to open up to her even more..."Oh awesome."
After descending the ladder, Quinn stepped behind Artie and peered over his shoulder. "Look, it's some of my get well cards, my ID bracelets, my cast..."
If there was anything more true about Alicia Abrams it was that she saved everything...important, that is. So technically she was a very neat, extremely organized, pack rat. "It's so small," Quinn commented when Artie pulled two halves out of the box.
"Are you kidding?" he shot back incredulously. "This thing was huge, and really, really heavy." There was a pause as he pointed to where the cast had hit him, more than three quarters up his left arm. "The one they replaced it with when I got to rehab was much better...at least I could bend my elbow in that one." Artie shuffled around in the box for a few more seconds before asking, "Is there another one up there with my rehab stuff in it? That stuff was way cooler."
Quinn smiled at his child-like enthusiasm and climbed back up to check. "There's this one that says accident papers," she called out and Artie motioned for her to pass it down to him.
Quinn wasn't as interested in this box as she was with the other one and was just about to return to the ladder, when Artie pulled a stack of grainy films out of a manila envelope. "My x-rays."
She had to bite back a gasp, "You've see these before?"
"A bunch of times," Artie replied nonchalantly, as if the shattered bones depicted, were not of the utmost importance. "Just never with all this writing on them." He spent another moment or two trying to figure out what those words and diagrams drawn onto the films represented, before giving up and tossing them aside.
Artie resumed digging for something other than receipts and bills...and uncovered far more than he was hoping to.
"What's all that?" Quinn asked as soon as she saw the way Artie had tensed up.
"Court transcripts and a newspaper article," he replied through an steadying breath.
She pulled the desk chair next to Artie and sat down beside him. "Your parents sued the guy?"
"I guess," he answered, reading on, "and the bar that served him." Quinn sat patiently while Artie took some time to process this information. She didn't have to wait very long. "I've always known there was an account with a big chunk of money saved up for future medical expenses and whatever, but I never really knew where it came from. I was eight, so I just figured it was from the insurance company or the trust fund my Grandparents started, since those were the things my parents were always talking about."
Artie set down the transcripts in his lap and passed the newspaper over to Quinn with shaky hands. "That's him, isn't it?" he asked referring to the aged black and white photo off to the left of the page.
'Crash injures mother and son' Quinn read the title to herself. She nodded and her eyes flickered up to see Artie silently imploring her to go on...
"Jefferey P. Fisher 50, of neighboring Elida, Ohio, remained in custody Saturday, charged with DUI in an accident that injured a 32-year old Lima mother and her 8 year-old son." Quinn questioned not whether she should go any further, but whether she could. "Shortly after 3:30pm on Friday, Fisher, who was reportedly going in excess of 50 miles per hour, ran through a red light and broadsided the silver sedan carrying the pair."
"Why'd you stop?"
Quinn's head shot up, she hadn't even realized she had stopped reading until Artie said something. Artie..."Sorry," she returned with a meek apology, but didn't continue right away. Something in the back of her brain kept nagging at her. "Artie maybe we shouldn't..."
"It's fine if you don't want to...," he cut in softly, "I can do it."
When he reached out for the article, Quinn noticed his hands were shaking even worse than before. He must have noticed it to, because he immediately pulled them back into his lap. "It's okay," Quinn assured him with a small smile as she scooted closer and slipped her hand in between his clenched ones. "Police reported that Fisher's blood alcohol level was .19 at the time of the crash, double the states legal limit."
Another pause, but this time Artie did not comment when Quinn read ahead. "It's weird, the article never actually mentions you by name," she pointed out, and he moved in to get a better look. "It says here that by the family's requested names have been withheld, but a representative from St. Rita's medical center did release the conditions of the injured, stating that the female victim is currently listed in fair condition while the young boy is listed in serious but stable condition following surgery late yesterday evening."
Artie glanced over at Quinn. "I wonder why they did that."
"Dad wanted to keeps things private since not all of the family had been notified yet."
"Mom!"
"First rule of thumb...if your kids are too quiet, they're probably getting into some kind of trouble," Alicia intoned flatly as she walked into the room.
"Alicia, I'm so sorry," Quinn fumbled with an apology. "We were looking for a extra photo album for our pictures and came across these boxes by accident."
Not wanting to intentionally ignore Quinn's plea, but unable to manage anything more than a short nod, Alicia proceeded to attend to the more pressing issue at hand. "Why are you doing this to yourself today, Honey?"
"It wasn't intentional," Artie stated in defense. "Like Quinn said, we were just looking for an album. She found the box with my hospital stuff in it first and I asked her if she could find the one from rehab, but we found this instead."
"And you thought it was a good idea to go through it...today of all days?"
She didn't sound mad, just confused...and really hurting. Artie shrugged dismissively, "I guess I just wanted answers. It feels like I'm living in a puzzle without all of the pieces."
"Why didn't you come to me about this?" she implored, sobbing. Witnessing that heart-wrenching reaction, Quinn thought it best to relinquish her seat to Alicia.
"Because I knew how you'd react," Artie blew out with sigh, "just like this." He paused for a second to collect himself, then added, "We hardly ever talk about it, but when we do, you always end up crying...and I hate seeing you cry."
Even more than seeing his mother cry, Artie hated showing his emotions in front of her...worse still was having Quinn there to witness it all. Though gauging from the expression she was giving him, Artie was pretty confident his girlfriend wouldn't think any less of him if he just happened to let a few of his own pent up tears, fall. Without warning, he pulled his mother into his arms and held her tight. And as quietly as possible, Quinn wiped her eyes, then busied herself with repacking the boxes.
It took Alicia a few minutes before her shutters calmed enough for her to speak. Releasing her hold, she took the tissue Quinn was offering and blotted her cheeks. Alicia sat back in her seat and let out a shaky breath. "Okay, what did you want to know?"
Artie froze, he definitely wasn't expecting her to be so abrupt or accommodating. There was really only one thing he wanted to know..."What happened to him?"
Alicia hesitation was unintentional as she made a point of find a distraction to help her get through this. That came easy in the form of helping Quinn. "Because this had been his third offense, he opted to plead guilty to driving while intoxicated, reckless driving that resulted in bodily injury in both the criminal suit as well as the civil suit."
"And?"
Not trusting herself to look at him quite yet, Alicia stood to push the desk chair back over to the computer. "He was sentenced to time served for the three days he spent in jail before his family posted bond. Ninety days mandatory in-patient substance abuse program and a revoked license."
"So we won," Artie announced, sounding pleased.
"No Honey, nobody won in this," she returned sympathetically.
"But we got him off the streets, right?" he countered, his tone taking on a positive air, "so he couldn't hurt anyone else."
Alicia took in a sharp, almost pained breath. She kept one hand on the desk for support and slowly turned around. "What did it matter...he'd already hurt you."
Artie gave a tight smile as he nodded. "Maybe nine years ago he did, but I'm good now," he admitted, glancing from his mother over to Quinn, "better than good."
...
Maybe convincing his mother he really was alright wasn't quite as easy as that, but Artie honestly felt more at ease with himself than he ever had. It didn't hurt to have the most beautiful girl on the planet, standing by his side, either.
"You were amazing tonight. Thanks."
Quinn blushed a deep crimson. "I didn't do anything special," she countered, downplaying her involvement.
"Are you kidding?" he scoffed playfully. "You single handedly restored peace to this house by entertaining the girls while me and Mom talked, and totally saved dinner by making that chicken dish...which was awesome by the way."
"It was a little dry," she chuckled, cringing.
"I liked it," Artie returned with a grin. "And even Andy without complaining, so it had to be good."
Quinn tilted her head contemplatively, then nodded. "I guess today wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked rhetorically, and smiled back at him. "Even if we didn't get to make our photo album." Just then, Artie produced a leather bound book from his nightstand and Quinn laughed. "We can do that tomorrow." She paused a moment to look at, not hers, but his reflection in his mirror. "I want to thank you too, for including me in everything that today was...," Again, her wording didn't sound right, but she wasn't sure how else to say what she wanted to say. "I feel so much closer to you right now."
"From all the way over there?," Artie queried teasingly.
Quinn's smile widened as she crossed over to him and perched herself on his lap. "You know what I mean," she sneered, giving him a playful swat on the chest.
"I do," Artie replied softly and turned very serious. "I got pretty depressed today when it finally hit me that nine years means I've been like this longer than I wasn't." Quinn reached a comforting hand out to cup his cheek. "Just having you here with me...for me, made that not so significant."
Snuggling deeper into his lap, Quinn wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "If it's any conciliation, I don't remember much of you before, or even that much after," she let out a small embarrassed giggle. "But I do know that I really like you, for who you are, right now."
Artie mused, he did too.
...
ANx2...Oh God that took so ridiculously long to post...edits and re-edits and an ending I'm not all that thrilled with...I truly apologize, but hope it was still worth the wait.