Their second visit, Quinn watched Artie even more closely than at the first one. The day they'd found out it hadn't worked, she and Avery had come home from grocery shopping, to find him in the back yard, head in his hands, shoulders slumped, with Bailey sitting patiently beside him.

Choosing not to let him know that she'd seen him looking so clearly defeated, she was extra noisy putting away the groceries, so that either he or Bailey would hear her through the open window.

He'd come inside a couple of minutes later, wearing a big smile that Quinn thought looked almost pained, but she didn't say anything then, either.

Seconds after he'd closed the door, Avery was in his lap, and his smile turned soft and happy. Quinn was glad at the fact that their little girl could bring him out of even the deepest funk. She hoped that would continue to be the case, if the procedure failed again. He hadn't reacted to the news quite as harshly as she'd expected (in front of her, at least), and she was wondering if there was something brewing just under the surface that was going to erupt if it didn't work the second time around.

After Artie returned from the little room off to the side without comment, they sat in silence, waiting for their name to be called.

Eventually, Artie reached over, gently grasping her hand, and began softly running his thumb across her knuckles.

"Are you ok?" he asked, quietly.

She nodded. "Are you?"

He shrugged. "I guess so. I just really need this to work this time…I don't know if I can handle doing this several more times. The build-up, and the waiting, and then it doesn't work…" he trailed off. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," she said, turning a bit so she was facing him. "Artie, you have to stop apologizing for things you have no control over. If it's supposed to work, it will. And if not? We'll try something else."

He nodded, looking down at his lap. "I just can't believe we have to do this in the first place," he muttered.

She sat back against the backrest of her chair, leaning over and resting her head on his shoulder. "It's going to be ok," she said. "Because we're doing it together."


After what seemed like hours, their name was called, and Quinn and Artie were escorted to the same room they'd been in the first time.

When Dr. Scott entered, Artie muttered a greeting, averting his eyes.

The doctor, well aware of what was running through Artie's mind, smiled and greeted them warmly.

"Are we ready?" he asked, after they'd talked for a bit. He wanted to make sure that both Quinn and Artie were comfortable with what was going on, although he suspected that Quinn wasn't the one he had to worry about.

During the procedure, Artie sat, holding Quinn's hand without comment. When they were finished, he thanked the doctor, and sat quietly beside her until a nurse told them they could leave.


As they headed for the van, Quinn placed a hand gently on his shoulder. He stopped, turning his head and looking up.

"What?" he asked, looking worried. "Are you ok? Do we need to go back in? Do you need to sit down?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm fine," she said. "But you're not. Are you?"

"Of course I am," he said, smiling at her. "It's you I'm concerned about. I'm fine."

"Artie," she said. "I know you. I know what you're like when you're fine, and I know what you're like when you're not. And right now…you're not."

He shrugged. "I said I'm fine. We need to get you home so you can rest," he said, placing a gloved hand over hers, which was still on his shoulder. "If this is going to work, you should be lying down. So they can get there better."

Quinn smiled, deciding to let it go for the moment. There would be lots of time for them to talk later.

"We'd better get home then," she said. "And we can lie down together and watch a movie or something."

He grinned. "That sounds like a plan," he said, moving his hands down and propelling himself towards their vehicle. "We just can't forget to phone Avery. I know her sleepover with Aunty Linds is something she's been looking forward to for days, and we'll probably just be interrupting their fun…but I still want to call her."

Quinn giggled, as she got into the van. "She was so cute this morning," she said. "She kept talking about her sleepover with Aunty Linds, and then she'd add 'and Grandma and Grandpa' as an afterthought because she didn't want to hurt their feelings. I told her that everyone knew it was going to be girls night for the two of them, and that no one's feelings would be hurt."

He laughed, turning the key in the ignition. "I know. She was telling me about how she and Aunty Linds were going to do this, and that, and then they would go in the living room so she could cuddle with Grandma and Grandpa, so they wouldn't be sad," he said. "Then she asked if next time she could have a sleepover with them. I said sure…didn't really see any point in explaining that they all live in the same house and it's really a sleepover with everyone. And even if she goes for what she views as a sleepover with them, everyone knows she'll end up in bed with Linds anyway."

"Did you tell Linds what was going on?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, she just happened to suggest they have a sleepover today because it's a Friday," he said. "Actually…I haven't told anyone what's going on. Not even my parents."

"Maybe you should talk to them about it," Quinn suggested. "They should probably find out sooner rather than later."

"I am not having that conversation with my dad," he said, as he turned onto their road.

"Artie, he's your dad," she said. "I'm pretty sure he's known that there would be a possibility that something like this might be necessary this longer than you have."

He pulled into the driveway, pushing the button on the garage door remote. "I don't care," he muttered. "I am not having a conversation with my dad about how my junk doesn't work," he added. "Could you imagine if this somehow got back to Michael? I'm not having a conversation about that with anyone."

"You have to talk about this with someone," she said, quietly. "You know you can always talk to me, but if you feel like you can't, then you need to find someone else to talk to about it. You can't just keep bottling it up inside, Artie."

"I don't feel like I can't talk to you," he said. "I don't want you to think that. You don't think that, do you? I just don't want you to be worried, or upset, and I don't want you to have to think about the stuff I'm thinking about. "

She nodded. She didn't really want to accept that answer, but she also didn't want to push him, because it was clear that he didn't want to discuss it further.

"You could talk to your mom," she said, as she reached down to grasp the hand he was offering to help her out of the van.

He nodded. "I might. But not right now, because we're going into the house so you can lie down. You can have either me or Bailey in the bed with you…your choice."

She grinned. "Can I have both?" she asked. "I've never once regretted that we splurged on a king-sized bed."

He grinned back. "You can have whatever you want," he said. "But we may have to wash the bedding tomorrow…Bailey is overdue for a bath."

Quinn giggled, as they headed into the house and down the hall. The dog came bounding towards them, and was in the bed before Quinn was.

"Is he on my pillow?" Artie asked, coming out of the bathroom. "Seriously, Bailey?"

Quinn laughed. "He looked sad," she said. "Isn't that what you and Avery always say?"

Artie chuckled. "Well, if he looked sad…" he said. "But seriously, Bailey, move down. You know I love cuddling you, but I need to cuddle my wife right now."

The lab's big, brown eyes stared up at him from his place on Artie's side of the bed.

"Oh, want to play that game, do you?" Artie said, raising an eyebrow. "Because I'm pretty sure I can out-sad you, and then Quinn will make you move."

"I don't know," Quinn said, studying the pair. "I think Bailey's eyes are sadder than yours," she added. "You kind of look like you're trying not to laugh."

He burst out laughing. "Ok, fine," he said. "Time for plan B."

Quinn watched as he opened his nightstand, rummaged around, and pulled out a dog treat.

"You keep dog treats in there?" she asked, a shocked look on her face. "Don't you keep medication and stuff in there? Is that sanitary?"

"They're in a bag, woman," he muttered, wheeling down to the bottom of the bed and patting it so the dog would move down. "It's not like they're just loose in there among the muscle relaxants and antihistamines. Which, for the record…are also in containers."

Quinn giggled, rolling over onto her side and regarding him as he transferred to the bed beside her. "Haven't you ever noticed that the bag never gets empty?" she asked. "Who do you think refills it?"

He grinned, his cheeks reddening slightly. "Well, in my mind the dog biscuit fairies do," he said, quietly.

She giggled again. "You just keep believing that, then," she said, moving over so she was closer to him. "So what did you have in mind for now?"

He wrapped his arm around her, and she placed her head on his shoulder. "Well," he said. "I thought maybe we'd lie here a bit, turn on the tv, not actually watch it, and eventually you'd fall asleep because you need to rest and I'd go let the dog out, stuff my face, bring you some food, and then lock up and come back to bed. Oh, and we should probably call Avery."

Quinn laughed. "That's quite the plan you've got there," she said, resting her head heavily against him. "Except I don't know if I can stay awake until I'm scheduled to fall asleep."

He smiled. "Then sleep now," he said. "The schedule is flexible."

Ten minutes later, Quinn was sound asleep, and fifteen minutes after that, she'd rolled over onto her other side, freeing his arm. He debated staying in bed, before deciding he'd better get up and go phone Avery, before it was too late. He didn't think Quinn would mind him phoning without her. They'd be seeing her in the morning when Linds dropped her off on her way to work.


"And then we played outside, and Aunty Linds painted my nails pink, and she did my hair and we went to the store," Avery rattled off, as Artie listened to her over the phone, grinning at the excitement in her voice.

"That's great, princess," he said. "What are you guys up to now?"

"We just ate dinner," she continued, "And Grandma let me pick what was on the pizza, and we had mushrooms and pineapple and lots of cheese! Oh! I have to go! Aunty Linds just said that we can watch a movie before we go to bed, Daddy! Is it ok if I go?"

"Of course," he said.

"Here's Grandma," the little girl said. "Goodnight, Daddy. I love you!"

"I love you too, princess," he said. "And so does Mommy. Good night!"

There was a clattering on the phone, before Artie heard his mother's voice over the line.

"Did she drop the phone?" he asked. "Or throw it?"

"The second one," Beth said, chuckling. "She was in a hurry, and thought she'd just throw it in my general direction. Hi, sweetie."

"Hi Mom," he said, grinning to himself.

"What did you guys do today?" she asked, and he could hear her moving around what he assumed was the living room.

"Oh, you know…" he trailed off. "Stuff."

"Stuff?" she asked. "What does that mean?"

"Just stuff," he said.

"Artie," Beth said, quietly. "I've known you long enough to know that when you say 'stuff' you really mean 'something I don't want to talk about.' What's going on?"

"Are you alone?" he asked, quietly. "I don't want Dad to know about this."

"I am," she said. "He's over helping Grandpa with a few things, and then I suspect they're going to end up watching sports on tv, so he won't be here for a while. What's up?"

"We're trying to have another baby," he muttered.

"What was that, honey?" she asked. "I couldn't quite hear you."

He cleared his throat. "Um…we're trying to have another baby," he said again, louder. "We've been going to Dr. Scott to get some, you know…don't tell Dad, ok?"

"Oh, sweetie," she said, wishing he were there with her so she could wrap her arms around him. "How long has this been going on? Why didn't you tell me? Why don't you want Dad to know?"

"We got some help last month," he said, softly. "But it didn't work. So we went again today. And I didn't tell you because…" he trailed off, mumbling something he knew she couldn't hear.

"Artie?" she said, softly. "Sweetie, you have to talk louder," she added, knowing full well that he'd mumbled so she couldn't hear him.

"I didn't want you to know that I'm not even capable of giving Quinn another baby without getting help," he muttered. "And I don't want Dad to know that we're getting help to try and get pregnant again. And I really don't want Michael to know. Or Linds. Or…anyone, actually."

"Honey, it's nothing to be embarrassed about," she said, quietly. "There's nothing you can do about this."

"I just feel like a massive failure," he said, realizing that Quinn was right, and that maybe talking about it with someone other than her would help. "I won't go into detail about what went on in there," he said, "But apparently my body can't even perform the most basic of physical actions required to get Quinn pregnant without getting some weird help," he finished, quietly. "So much for not going into detail," he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Sweetie, listen to me," Beth said, her voice laced with concern. "You can't think like that. Nothing about this is your fault. And just because you guys have to do some things differently, doesn't mean that you're a failure, or that you're not giving Quinn what you think she deserves, or anything like that. And she knows that," she added. "I know she doesn't think these things."

"She says she doesn't," he muttered. "But what if she does? Mom, you didn't see her face when she told me it didn't work the first time. She looked so upset, and disappointed. And it's my fault."

"Did she say she thinks it's your fault?" she asked.

"Of course not," he said. "She said nothing is my fault, that it's a medical thing, and that we're going to try until it works. But what if it doesn't? What if it is my fault?"

"Honey, you have to stop thinking like that," Beth said. "You know she's right. Even when you're doubting yourself, you know she's right, don't you?"

He nodded. "Oh…you can't see me nodding. Yes, I know that," he said. "Even if I don't want to admit it to myself. And even if I'm not sure that I believe it 100%. Please don't tell Dad about this."

Beth smiled. Artie nodding while on the phone was something that happened almost every time they talked. "I won't, sweetie," she said. "But you know that you should talk to him about it eventually, right? What are you worried about?"

"I've disappointed him enough in the last 18 years," he muttered. "He doesn't need to know about this."

"Oh, honey," Beth said, her eyes filling with tears, which quickly became evident in her voice. "What makes you think you've ever disappointed him?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry," he mumbled. "Don't cry, Mom. I'm sorry. Let's just forget I ever said that."

Beth nodded, wiping away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. "Oh, right, you can't see me nodding," she said.

Artie chuckled. "I thought that was my line."

"Do you three want to come for dinner tomorrow night?" she asked, changing the subject. She decided to drop the conversation, and pick it up again when she had him there in person. "I took a huge chicken out of the freezer tonight."

"That sounds good," he said. "I'm pretty sure we have nothing planned. Do you want us to bring something? I could make something."

"No, that's ok," she said. "Just bring yourselves. And Avery, of course. You can bring Bailey too, if he wants to come."

"Does he ever not want to come?" he said, chuckling softly. "The usual time?"

"The usual time," she said. "Sweetie, you should get to bed…it's getting late."

"Mom…" he said. "It's 9:30."

"Oh," she said. "Well…then you should get back to Quinn. Is she awake?"

"I don't think so," he said. "She fell asleep just after we got home. But I should probably go check on her. See you tomorrow?"

"Yes, see you tomorrow, sweetie," she said. "I love you."

"I love you too, Mom," he said. "And thanks for listening to me."

"Anytime, honey," she said. "You know that."

"I know," he said, softly. "Good night."

"Good night," she replied, and he hung up the phone.


A/N: Yes, for anyone that's wondering…I see Averyverse Quartie as the future of All My Dreams Quartie. :)

Thank you for reading (and reviewing!) as always! I still can't believe the amount of attention this story has been getting since I started it. You guys are great! :D

In other news...happy birthday Kevin McHale! :)