An authors note...I apologize for the delay in updates, life has been just a little more hectic than usual:P But I'm hoping to work around my ridiculous schedule and work on my stories as often as possible. Here's hoping you enjoy this little bit of fluff...Love you all and thanks for reading!

Disclaimer-Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers.

Let It Be

Once his birthday had passed, Artie was anxiously counting down the days until summer vacation. As much as he loved school, or more precisely, loved to learn...this year turned out to be the most difficult ever, both on a physical, as well as a social level.

He was more than ready for lazy days of hanging out with his Mom and sister...and he supposed his brother too...just reading, or swimming, or doing fun things around town. There were a total of thirteen weeks of vacation, and And intended on making the most of every single day.

"...and Mom said maybe we can go to the zoo next week," Artie announced excitedly. The first week had passed much too quickly for his liking, and the stormy weather they had, was making it difficult to do all the fun things they had planned.

That piqued Art's interest. "I'd wouldn't mind coming along for that," he stated with a grin. "I can't get any time off during the week, but if you can hold off a bit, we could go next weekend."

"That's Father's day weekend...me, you and Andy'll be in Cincinnati for the Reds game with Grandpa, Uncle Steve, Jess and Mark ," Artie reminded his father pointedly, but then an idea struck him and his lips spread into a beaming smile. "Maybe Mom and Abbey can come with us too...and Grandma and Aunt Jayne...we can go to the zoo with everyone first, then..."

Artie immediately noticed the look that passed between his parents. His smile vanished and his heart sunk. "We're not going, are we?"

Art's expression faltered slightly, but his tone remained even. "With us just having a new baby, Grandpa thought it would be better if we stayed close to home this year," he explained, "and I agreed."

"Awww, no fair," Andy cried out.

Ignoring his younger sons squawk of disappointment, Art went on a little further. "Instead, Grandpa, Uncle Steve and I are going to meet up and go golfing early Sunday morning," he added, "...so I'll be sure to be home in time for brunch."

Artie forced a smile up at his Dad and nodded. He figured traveling with an infant wouldn't be too difficult, Abbey was still pretty portable at her age. But factor in him and all of his...equipment, and that changes everything...even with both of his parents there. Deep down inside, Artie was beginning to suspect that Abbey was just an excuse, and he was the real reason they weren't going.

"Dad, can we go out and practice now?" Andy's voice pierced through the slight hush that had fallen over them.

"Yeah, sure," Art replied with a chuckle as he watched his little boy leap from his seat. It was the beginning of baseball season...well, t-ball for the Kindergarteners...and as head coach of Andy's team, Art made it a point to take him outside on days weather permitted and there were no other scheduled practices, to work on his skills.

"Andy Honey," Alicia called out before he could get too far, her brow quirked up pointedly as she gently reminded, "Isn't it your turn to clear off the table?"

"But it'll be dark soon," the youngster whined, but was met with only a stern look from his mother.

"It will be light for another two hours Andrew," Alicia countered pointedly, "you'll have plenty of time to play, after you clear the table." She was waiting for more resistance, and was surprised when it didn't come...or rather, didn't have time to come.

"I'll do it, Mom," Artie offered softly, as he pushed away from the table and placed his almost empty plate in his lap.

"Cool, thanks," Andy returned casually, then turned to his father and beamed. "C'mon Dad."

But Art didn't budge, just stood frozen by Alicia's imploring gaze. It was as if able he could read exactly what she was thinking, simply by gazing into those beautifully expressive blue eyes of hers. "Hold on Champ, I have an idea," he went on to suggest. "Why don't you both clean up, so the job gets done faster? That way all three of us can go out and play a little catch."

"But Dad, we're supposed to be practicing," Andy's whine intensified, "...and he can't play anyway..."

"Andrew," Alicia gasped, admonishing him with not only her tone, but also her incredulous glare.

"We can still practice together...the three of us," Art intoned firmly, pointedly eying Andy, before acknowledging Artie. "What do you say, Ace?" he queried playfully.

Artie's first instinct was to decline the invitation. Even before the accident he wasn't very good at baseball...or any sport...plus, Andy didn't seem too eager to have him join...but, he really wanted to do something with their dad, and it seemed like forever since he'd actually thrown a baseball. The closest he'd come recently, was tossing beanbags at various targets and working with the therapy balls in physio.

"I could really use a catcher," Art added, using that persuasive tone he'd actually learned from his boys.

It didn't take much convincing.

"Okay," Artie acquiesced with a small nod and beaming smile...and tried not to let Andy's groan of disappointment, ruin the moment.

...

The table was cleared in no time, and after a little digging on Art's part, Artie's glove was found and the three Abrams men were out in the back yard, warming up.

Their arrangement of tossing the ball to one another while they stood in a circle worked beautifully, as long as they were going clockwise. As soon as they switched to counterclockwise...Artie to Art, Art to Andy and Andy back to Artie...things got a little messy.

It was the third ball in a row Andy threw over Artie's head. "Hey Kiddo, we're playing catch, not monkey in the middle," Art gently reminded his younger son, as he jogged back to his spot after retrieving the latest runaway ball.

"It's not my fault he can't catch," Andy grumbled the retort.

Art steadied his gaze and raised a brow. "Well, maybe if you actually threw it to him, he could," he maintained, though never got a chance to implement.

Bored, Andy asked, "Can we do something else now?"

"How about some fielding?" Art suggested as he picked up the bat he had resting against the tree behind him.

Since both boys agreed, Art thought it best to start off with Artie. It was a softly hit ground ball, and took a little chair maneuvering, as well as some strategically planned movements, but he was able to grasp it with the tips of his glove and toss it back to his father.

This went on for about another ten minutes, or so, Art alternating hits between his sons. Artie didn't even care if his plays were soft, grounded, and hit directly to him, while Andy's were all varying degrees of difficulties...he was just so happy to be playing.

Andy urged Art to change gears once again, and now they were going to get in some batting practice.

"I don't know, Dad..." Artie muttered, soft and very self-consciously, as he reached for the bat his father was offering him.

"I'll go first," Andy cut in and offered eagerly.

Art put his hand up to Andy, motioning to hold on as he acknowledged Artie. "Don't know what, Ace?," he played casual, then slowly began to take a few steps back, so there would be enough of a distance between them when he started pitching.

Artie's gaze fell to his lap, and he let out a soft sigh, "Don't know if I can do it?"

"Well you won't, unless you try," Art returned, smiling encouragingly. Artie matched his fathers grin, while Andy let an irritated sigh and stomped over to the catcher's position.

It wasn't a huge surprise to Artie that he swung and missed the first five pitches thrown at him. "See, I told you I couldn't do it," he muttered dishearteningly, after the sixth try.

Art held off the frown that was threatening to break through and instead suggested, "Why don't you angle your chair a little...and hold the bat up a bit more..."

"Like this?" Artie asked uncertainly.

Art nodded. "Don't lean forward so much, it'll throw off your balance even more."

Artie followed his fathers instruction to sit up straighter. He engaged his abdominal muscles as best he could, held the the bat over his shoulder, and waited.

Nothing could erase the beaming smile that occurred when Artie's bat finally made contact with the ball...not even the intense muscle spasms that resulted from pushing his limits a little too far.

"Thanks Dad," he stated, as Art was tucking him for the night.

"For what?" his father replied, distracted by the task of properly placing an extra pillow under the boy's trembling left leg.

"For today," Artie returned casually. His last dose of medication hadn't quite kicked in yet, so he was still perfectly lucid. "I like spending time with you...doing things together." Art's hands stilled, hovering over the blanket, and lifted his gaze just in time to see Artie shrug. "I miss it."

The words came out in barely a whisper, but they spoke volumes. Art immediately felt guilt twist at his gut, especially when he remembered the news he'd sprung on his son just a few hours before. "I've missed it to, Kiddo," he returned, just as the idea came to him...and he smiled instead.

ANx2...this chapter is dedicated to Megan, who is home sick and miserable right now:( Feel better, Woman!