Chapter 7

Artie's morning sickness gets worse two weeks later. Artie is just sitting next to him like usual one minute, and then the next minute he's out the door without saying anything. Sam grabs his backpack and runs right after him, ignoring the questions the rest of the glee club yell at them.

He finds Artie in the handicap stall of the nearest boys' bathroom. Artie is curled around a toilet seat, heaving into the toilet. Without being able to get up onto his knees, Artie has to pull himself up so he can throw up into the toilet itself, so while Artie doesn't have hair to pull back, Sam helps him support himself so he can put all his effort into puking. Between heaves, Artie slumps next to the toilet and Sam strokes his face. His skin is sweaty under Sam's fingers.

"Sam, I don't know if I'm ever going to want to eat again. Or move," Artie says weakly. He pulls himself back up to give a couple more heaves. "I think I'm done."

When Sam gets up to go get some paper towels, Artie pulls him back down.

"Not yet," he says, pulling himself into Sam's lap. "Sorry the floor is kind of gross."

"It isn't your fault," Sam says, wrapping his arms around Artie. "Unless you've been peeing on the floors."

Artie laughs.

"No, I haven't been peeing on the floors. A little vomiting though," Artie says.

"Do you want me to get you some water?" Sam asks.

"Not if you have to leave the bathroom," Artie says, snuggling into Sam's side. "Wait. I think I have a water bottle in my backpack."

Sam reluctantly sets Artie on the gross floor. He roots around in Artie's backpack for the bottle. Once he has it, he fills it up in the sink and wets a couple paper towels. As soon as he gets back he hands Artie the water bottle and pulls him back into his lap. Right away, Artie starts chugging, but Sam pulls the water bottle away.

"If you go too fast you'll get sick again. Or at the very least feel like it again," Sam explains.

"I'm just so thirsty," Artie complains. He takes one of the paper towels and wipes his face. "That feels better at least."

He takes the water bottle back and sips it slowly. Sam wipes the back of Artie's neck and forehead with the damp cloth. Artie leans back against Sam's shoulder, so Sam wipes his neck too.

"Sam, that feels so good," Artie says, moaning. "I'm not going back to Glee, by the way. It's almost done and I don't feel like answering questions."

"That's alright by me. I would rather stay here anyway" Sam said.

The bell rings to dismiss them and they wait a little to lessen the chances of running into anyone.

"I'm feeling much better now," Artie says, kissing Sam's cheek. "If this keeps happening, we're going to need an explanation as to why I keep barfing but am fine the rest of the day. What are the chances that everyone is ignorant enough that I can pass it off as something to do with my paralysis?"

"I think you've got a fifty fifty chance, to be honest," Sam says. "But cafeteria food could be a better excuse. It makes lots of people sick. You could just be having bad luck."

Artie nods and gets back in his chair. He checks the time.

"I'm sorry, but I've gotta run," Artie says, "Auditions are tonight. Can't miss them."

He pulls Sam down for a kiss on the cheek.

"Good luck. Pick a good cast," Sam says, smiling.

"Of course. I might call you later about how auditions went," Artie says.

"Good. I love you," Sam says.

"I love you, too," Artie says.

When Artie is gone, Sam splashes his face with some water to clear his head before practice starts. He realizes he has to start running if he wants to make it to practice on time.


Artie pushes himself down the hall as fast as he can so he isn't late for auditions. His stint as a director of the musical is going swimmingly already. While he had planned on getting to auditions early so that he could give a rousing pep talk to the masses, he just barely makes it in time to greet his fellow directors.

"Is everything alright, Artie?" Ms. Pillsbury asks with concern in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," Artie says with a forced smile. It had been three weeks since he had last been in to eat lunch with her and she is still concerned about what he had said, he could tell. Not even Sam understands that he is perfectly fine with how things are at home. It isn't the best, but it could certainly be much worse, so he will be fine.

Coach Beiste calls out the first name and so begin the auditions. Some of them are cringe-worthy. Luckily, a couple Glee club members are trying out. Their auditions are all very well done, and he can tell there are going to be some debates later about where to cast everyone. After every audition, he thanks the auditionee for their time and lets them know that the cast list will be posted by the end of the week.

It's late by the time the last auditionee steps off stage.

"Let's meet in my office tomorrow morning to discuss casting," Coach Beiste suggests.

Artie and Ms. Pillsbury both agree, and all three of them get ready to leave. He has to run back to his locker to get a few things.

"Artie, I need to talk to you," Ms. Pillsbury says, "Do you need a ride home?"

He pauses and turns around, smiling brightly.

"No, thanks. I'm fine," Artie says, turning back around and continuing down the hall.

"Wait..." Ms. Pillsbury jogs down the hall to catch up with him and falls into step alongside him. "Artie, I'm worried about you. Will- Mr. Schuester, I mean- told me you've been sick the past couple weeks and that today you got so sick you have to leave."

"Cafeteria food," Artie explains, twirling his locker open and sorting through his things. "It isn't the best stuff, and I guess my stomach's been a little off the past couple weeks. I'm sure it'll pass soon enough."

Ms. Pillsbury doesn't look like she believes him, but nods anyway. They head back down the hallway.

"How have things been at home? Things didn't seem so great last time we talked," she asks.

He curses three-week-ago Artie and all the other Arties that have mentioned his parents to Ms. Pillsbury.

"Everything has cleared right up," Artie lies. "I was just exaggerating last time. You know how teenagers are. Sam even came over for dinner and they absolutely love him."

"And what does Sam think of them?" she asks.

Artie bites his lip. This one is harder because she could ask Sam.

"He liked them fine, I guess. With how nice Sam's parents are, I think most parents kind of pale in comparison," Artie says, knowing it sounds weak.

"Artie, I'm not an idiot. I can tell things are rough at home. For some reason, you don't want to talk about it, and I have to respect that for now, but I am always here to listen," she says, handing him a pamphlet.

"'So Your Parents Are Giant Assholes?'" he reads the title with a laugh in his voice, "Thank you, Ms. Pillsbury."

She smiles down at him.

"You're welcome. Are you sure you don't need a ride home?"

"Actually, I'd love a ride home, thank you."


When Sam leaves Artie, he runs out to the practice field. With Beiste at auditions for the musical, Finn runs practice.

"You're late, Sam," Finn yells out. "Five laps after practice."

Sam groans and gets right into the swing of practice. Even though practice is always tiring, at least it isn't as bad when Beiste isn't there. Beiste always works them hard. When Finn dismisses them for practice, Sam runs his laps and gets back to the locker room. Finn is waiting for him so they can ride home together.

"Sorry about that," Sam says, jumping into the shower to clean himself up quickly.

"No problem. I just had to give you laps so people wouldn't claim favoritism," Finn says as he finishes getting dressed. "How is Artie?"

"He's fine," there's a pause while Sam washes his face, "just got some bad food out of the cafeteria. You know how it is."

"Yeah, man, that food is nasty. Tell him I hope he feels better," Finn says.

"Sure thing."

Sam finishes washing up and gets dressed.

They arrive home without incident. Sam gets right to work on his homework. He doesn't want to have to cut his call with Artie short because of all the work he has to do. It's so hard to concentrate though. Between Artie and his family moving back home in just about a week, how can he be expected to think and write about 'The Crucible'?

"Everything okay?" Kurt asks.

Sam snaps out of his thoughts and looks up in surprise. He hadn't even noticed Kurt sit down, nonetheless spread out books and things of his own.

"What? Yeah, sure, everything is fine. There are just a lot of things going on. Artie, my family, football, school. It's just a lot of things up in the air and I'm worried I'm going to drop one," Sam explains.

Kurt tilts his head and frowns a little. "I thought you and Artie were still going strong. Does it have something to do with how sickly he's seemed lately?"

Sam does his best not to lie.

"I don't like not being able to help him, you know? He keeps getting nauseous and today he even threw up and there isn't a thing I can do about it," Sam explains. It's true enough. "I feel like I'm letting him down. I don't like it."

"Try giving him some of these," Kurt gets up and tosses Sam a box of saltine crackers, "They might help, but you should really get him to go to the doctor if this keeps up. And Sam, you're not letting Artie down just because he's gotten sick. Of course you can't fix it, but I'm sure that he appreciates that you're there for him."

Sam catches the box and gives the other boy a little salute with it.

"Thanks, Kurt," Sam says. "That means a lot."

"It's true, you two are right out of some dopey romantic novel," Kurt says, "and I know that whatever it is, you guys will get through it. Together."

Sam smiles and looks over at Kurt.

"I've liked living here. It's been great getting to know you better. It was great of you guys to pitch in like this to help me out," Sam says.

"It's been really great having you here," Kurt says, leaning in, "but I'm really glad that you're going to get to live with your family again. It's always been really obvious that your family really loves each other and that you guys should be together where you're happy.'

Sam's about to say something when his phone rings. "It's Artie." Kurt waves at him and Sam moves into his bedroom to take the call.

"Hey Artie! How did auditions go?"

Sam hears Artie groaning on the other side.

"Artie? Artie!"

"I'm here. My parents just had some ground beef for dinner and the smell made me sick. I didn't have anything in my stomach though, so I just heaved a little bit and they sent me to my room." Sam hears rustling from Artie's end of the line.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Yes. I sipped some water, curled up in bed, and called you, so I'm feeling much better now," Artie says. "And auditions went well. I've got a couple ideas to make this a truly unique performance, and casting could be a big part of that."

"Can you give me a hint?" Sam asks, flopping onto his bed. "A little teeny tiny one, please?"

Artie laughs.

"You know I can't. No one gets to know until the cast list comes out. Plus I have to talk my ideas over with the other directors. I wouldn't want someone to hear our chatter and get their hopes up," Artie explains, but Sam thinks that's a clue in and of itself. The only people whose hopes could be raised and could be listening to them (or their boyfriends listening for them) are Kurt, Blaine, or Rachel, so at least one of them must be getting good news.

"You're such a tease," Sam accuses.

"If you're going to call names, I guess I won't tell you what Ms. Pillsbury gave me after auditions. Too bad, you would like it. Wait, you would love it," Artie says.

Sam groans and complains, "But you really are such a tease! Tell me, please? Don't make me beg," Artie stays silent, but Sam can hear him giggle a little. "Fine. I'll beg. This had better be good, Abrams. Please, Artie, please tell me about the fabulous thing bestowed upon you by Ms. Pillsbury. I'm absolutely dying over here. Please!"

When they both recover from their laughing, Artie says in a very serious voice, "Well I don't want you to die or anything, so here you go. She gave me a pamphlet entitled 'So Your Parents Are Giant Assholes?' after auditions. From what I've said about them, I guess she doesn't like them, and she asked about your opinion too."

Artie is right. He does like it.

"And what did you tell her?" Sam asks when Artie's pause stretches on.

"That with how awesome your parents are, no one's could compare, but she knew it was bull shit. So she gave me the pamphlet and told me that she was always there to talk," Artie says tentatively.

Sam sighs.

"Why don't you try talking to her? It could do some good, you know."

"Sam, everything is fine over here. My parents aren't abusive or anything, just assholes. I'm hardly the first kid to have assholes for parents. I'll be fine," Artie protests. "I am fine."

"It isn't fine, Artie. Last time I was there, your mother referred to you as 'that wheelchair boy' and thanked me for stooping down to your level to date you. I literally almost punched your mother. Or screamed at her. Or something," Sam says wildly.

"I know what my parents say about me, thank you very much. I was right there," Artie says coolly, "I don't need you telling me. And I also know that I am perfectly capable of handling this. If it doesn't hurt me, there's no reason why you should be getting upset. We have bigger things on our plates."

"I think it does hurt you though and I'm worried. You repeat things they say like offhand jokes. I know you Artie. I know how you look when you're pretending to be okay, but you aren't. And plus what do you think is going happen later on? Are they going to help you out when you need it? What about when the hormones kick in and you're emotional as hell? They'll tear you to pieces," Sam tries not to yell and fails.

"Yeah, well I'm sorry we can't all live in the perfect Evans family. You guys have problems, I know, but you all always get along perfectly. Not all families are like that," Artie yells back. "Some of us fight and yell, but at the end of the day, they're still my parents," his voice is cracking. "And I still love them and wish I could be what they want. I don't want to think about them kicking me out and I don't want to think about what new things they'll say. I just want to come as close as I can to being a son they'll love back. It's stupid, I know, but I can't help it."

Sam is stunned. That isn't what he expected Artie to say.

"Artie..." he starts, not quite sure where he's going.

"Don't," Artie says flatly, "Just don't. Goodnight Sam."

"Wait, Artie, I'm sorry. I just hate the way they treat you."

He realizes the line is dead.