AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Shoutout to gigundoly for providing the sweet moment at the end of Artie's POV, below the last set of dotted lines!

Please leave a review if you like what you're reading! :)

Chapter 13: Thanksgiving

SEBASTIAN

"Sebastian!" Harrison Smythe called as he saw his son walk by his bedroom on his way downstairs. "Come here for a minute."

Sebastian pivoted at the top of the staircase and made his way back down the hallway, turning into the master bedroom. His father was finishing up buckling his belt in front of the full-length mirror.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to let you know that Art Abrams will be coming in from Akron for the weekend," Harrison informed him. "He'll be arriving shortly, in time for Thanksgiving dinner, then he's staying for a few days so that he can come to support you boys and the New Directions at Sectionals."

Sebastian raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was the first that he was hearing of Artie's father coming to visit, which was strange, considering that Artie rarely shuts up about the guy. Sebastian had met him only once- at the wedding in June- but from that one introduction, he had gathered that he was pretty cool. Sebastian couldn't say, however, that he was too weirded out by the fact that Artie's father was coming to spend the holiday with his ex-wife, her new husband, and the kids. From what Artie had told him, the divorce hadn't been messy at all; his parents still had a great relationship, so what Sebastian didn't understand was why they wouldn't just stay married. But, he guessed that he was glad they hadn't done that, or else he wouldn't have gotten lucky enough to have Artie, Ella, and Griffin as siblings.

Sebastian nodded. "Is that all?" He was glad that he had gotten the heads-up before Art showed up on their front steps in a little bit, with plans to stay the weekend. However, it was weird of Artie not to have mentioned it.

When his father nodded, Sebastian made his way towards the stairs once again, with plans to go crash Artie's party to see what he was up to.

"Knock, knock," Sebastian called as he opened the door to Artie's room. Compared to actually knocking and waiting for permission from the room's occupant before entering, it wasn't much of a warning, but it was a step in the right direction.

"Bathroom!" Artie called back.

Since the door to the adjoining room was open, Sebastian took that as an invitation to enter. It had taken a long time, even once the two boys had become friendly with one another, for Artie to allow Sebastian in his private bathroom. But, eventually, Artie had taken down his protective walls. Sebastian wasn't sure what he'd been expecting the first time he went in there, but, if he was being honest, it didn't look any different from any other bathroom. Sure, he had a special chair in his shower, and a bar attached to the wall by the toilet, and the countertop was lowered to a more convenient height for him, but other than that, it was pretty normal.

Lucky for Sebastian, Artie wasn't doing his business or anything when he walked in. He was just sitting in front of the mirror attempting to insert his contacts, which he only wore on very rare occasions for this reason exactly: he had no idea how to put them in.

"Whoa, no glasses today?" Sebastian commented in surprise, as Artie pulled down his lower eyelid with one finger while trying to place the jelly-like lens on his eye with another. "Is Thanksgiving really that special of an occasion?"

Sebastian had never really understood the hype over this holiday. Since he'd spent most of his upbringing in Europe, he never had a proper American Thanksgiving until he was nine. The concept was still sort of foreign to him, and being as picky of an eater as he is, it was hard for him to get excited about eating dry turkey and strange side dishes. He'd probably just end up having a handful of dinner rolls and call it a meal.

"I hate touching my eyeball," Artie grumbled as he tried to insert the contact lens again, with no success. "It freaks me out."

"I'd offer to help, but I don't really want to touch your eyeball either," Sebastian joked, crossing his arms over his sweater and leaning against the door frame.

Artie glared up at him before attempting again.

"Aha!" he grinned as one of the contacts slid into place. The second one went in much easier. Sebastian had to admit that Artie looked much older whenever he ditched the black rectangular frames.

"Great, now you don't have to worry about them until it's time to take them back out," Sebastian reminded him, to which Artie groaned.

A moment later, the sound of a car's horn could be heard coming from the driveway. Artie's face lit up and he gasped before motioning for Sebastian to step aside as he pushed double-time on his wheels, presumably to beat his siblings to the front door to be the first to greet their father.

Not in a hurry himself, Sebastian shut off the lights in Artie's bedroom and bathroom, before heading down the hallway and into the foyer.

"Dad!" Artie called, throwing open the door just as Ella and Griffin were bounding down the stairs. Sebastian knew that the Abrams kids didn't get to see their father as much as they would like to, due to his busy work schedule and their extracurriculars, coupled with the fact that he lives two-and-a-half hours away.

"Hey, Artie Man!" Art Abrams greeted the boy, retrieving his duffel bag out of the back of his car before bending over to embrace his son.

"Dad! You made it!" Ella exclaimed as she and Griffin also ran out to meet their father in the driveway.

All of this excitement put Sebastian in a super awkward position. Did he go outside too? He barely knew the guy. But standing in the foyer and watching them from afar felt just as weird. He didn't have much time to decide on a game plan, however, because just a second later, the three kids were reapproaching the front door with their father in tow.

"Dad, you remember Sebastian- Harrison's son- from the wedding, right?" Artie asked, probably noticing that Sebastian looked a little uncomfortable, as if he was intruding on something.

"Of course I do," Art replied, switching his bag over to his other hand and sticking his right hand out to Sebastian. "It's good to see you again."

"Likewise," Sebastian replied, shaking the older man's hand.

"Here, I'll get that for you, Dad," Griffin said, taking Art's bag and bringing it upstairs to his room. Sebastian knew that he had taken over Artie's old bedroom- which was used as the guest room after Artie had relocated downstairs- after they had moved in last year. He assumed that Griffin was relinquishing his own bedroom to his father for the weekend and would be crashing on the couch.

"Dad's here," Ella announced to her mother and step-father, as she, Artie, and Art entered the kitchen, with Sebastian trailing not far behind.

"Hey!" Nancy greeted him with a friendly hug and cheek-kiss before checking on the turkey in the oven.

"Glad you could make it," Harrison said, shaking Art's hand. Sebastian had to force himself to stifle a laugh as he surveyed the two grown men. Just based on their clothing choices alone, Sebastian could infer that they were polar opposites. Art was wearing jeans, a flannel shirt, and Timberland work boots, and he had a little bit of stubble growing on his upper lip and chin. Harrison, on the other hand, was cleanly shaven and appeared much more put-together, wearing a crisply dry-cleaned button-up shirt tucked into khaki pants with loafers. There was also a comical height difference between the two fathers, and Sebastian could see where Artie had inherited his short stature from (though he planned to let him continue blaming it on the accident having happened before he hit puberty).

"Where can a guy get a cold one in this joint?" Art asked his eldest son, who had returned from upstairs and was holding a Bud Light, now that he was of legal drinking age (though he'd been secretly crushing cans in his bedroom for years). Sebastian noticed that that was yet another difference between the two older men- Harrison much preferred an expensive glass of wine or champagne to a beer.

Griffin grabbed a second can out of the fridge and handed it to his father before the five guys retreated to the living room, Ella staying behind to help her mother in the kitchen. Art, Griffin, and Sebastian settled onto the couch, Harrison took a seat in the armchair across from them, and Artie remained in his wheelchair, parked beside Sebastian.

"How's this semester been?" Art asked Griffin after cracking open his beer. "Almost over, right?"

"Oh, it's been good. Grades are good, too," Griffin answered. "I go back to Columbus for finals next week, then I'm home until the middle of January."

"And what about you two?" Art asked, looking between Sebastian and Artie. "Ready for your competition?"

Both boys nodded. "Both of the teams we're up against are really talented, so it'll be a good competition to watch," Artie said. "I'm glad you could make the drive to be here for this one."

"Me too," Art grinned. "Now that the season's over and we're just recruiting until spring training starts in the new year, I'll have a lot more time to spend with you kids."

"What is it you do again?" Harrison asked, appearing to be genuinely curious about his wife's ex's career.

"I work for the Cleveland Indians," Art replied, taking a swig of his beer. "I'm their assistant hitting coach."

"Oh, nice," Harrison replied, seemingly impressed. He may be preppy and proper, but just like any middle-aged man, he loved a good ball game.

"Baseball?" Sebastian heard himself blurt out before he could even register what he was doing. "That's cool. I'm considering trying out for the McKinley team in the spring."

Sebastian caught Artie's eye. He had an eyebrow raised and a confused look on his face that said: "You're full of shit. You've never even mentioned being into baseball before."

"Oh yeah? Art asked him. "Have you ever played?"

Sebastian shook his head.

Turning to Griffin, Art asked, "You got some gloves and some baseballs? We could go outside and play some catch until dinner's ready."

Griffin nodded, as he and Art stood up and headed towards the garage, leaving Sebastian and Artie no choice but to follow.

…

ARTIE

Tossing the ball back and forth in the front yard wasn't exactly Artie's idea of a good time. He supposed that he could have opted out, choosing to stay inside as Harrison had, but that would've meant that he was missing out on spending time with his father. Couldn't have that.

Truth be told, Artie could play catch. But throwing the ball to the intended target without moving your feet, paired with the mediocre amount of trunk control he possessed, was extremely difficult. And, ever the perfectionist, Artie hated doing things that he wasn't good at. Even more than that, he hated doing things that he was good at before the accident, which now took meticulous thought and planning. It was just one more reminder that he was different, and it sucked. A lot.

Especially because it all came so easily to the naturally-athletic Sebastian Smythe, who had never put on a baseball glove in his life before this afternoon. Artie tried not to constantly compare himself to Sebastian, but it was so difficult. It caused him to resent the other guy a little bit, which Artie knew wasn't fair, but it was the truth.

Whenever he found himself doing this, he thought back to what Griffin had said on the beach that night in Aruba:

"It doesn't matter that you don't look like Sebastian or that sometimes you need one of us to carry you someplace," Griffin had said. "We don't mind. We're willing to do whatever it takes to make you comfortable because we want you around."

Artie realized that he reminded himself of that conversation much more than he'd like to admit because there weren't many times where he wasn't comparing himself to Sebastian. After all, he was talented, both on stage and on the field, and he was effortlessly cool like both Griffin and Ella… Overall, Seb just fit in with the other siblings better than Artie did. He hated that he thought of himself as the black sheep of the family, but it was the truth.

"Ready, Artie? This one's for you," Sebastian warned him, giving him a moment to check that his brakes were locked in place before sending the ball over to him in a perfect pitch. Yet another thing to add to the ever-growing list of ways that Sebastian was perfect. He might be a jerk before you get to know him, but once you're on his good side, he'd look out for you for life, and he made sure you knew it.

Artie caught the ball easily, like he'd been playing the game his whole life, and it reminded him that he, too, was athletic, even if he didn't often get to show it these days. Artie prepared to return the ball to his step-brother, sticking his tongue out and knitting his eyebrows together in concentration.

"Good catch, Sebastian!" Art had said, as Sebastian dove to snag the ball that was thrown a little too far to the left. Artie and Griffin had spent nearly every summer afternoon while they were growing up playing sports of all kinds with their father in the yard. Watching his father praise Sebastian now, instead of him, hit a sore spot that Artie hadn't realized was there.

Before Artie could wallow in self-pity that his throwing arm wasn't as good as it once was, Ella was standing in the front doorway.

"Dinner's ready!"

…

Artie was eternally grateful that his parents, including his new step-father, were doing this co-parenting thing right. And the person most responsible for making sure that the kids had their whole family together, without having to split time between homes on the holidays, was Artie's dad. But Artie couldn't help but watch him carefully, as the guys piled into the living room to watch football after dinner. A casual bystander would never have known that Art and Harrison were the ex-husband and new husband to the same woman. Despite their obvious lifestyle differences, they got along famously, almost as if they had been old pals instead.

When Harrison stepped out to take a call, and Griffin and Sebastian got up to refill their drinks, Artie took the opportunity to finally talk to his dad alone for a moment. He edged a little closer to him on the sofa, adjusting his legs into a more comfortable position, and Art grinned and put an arm around his son's shoulders.

"Thank you, Dad."

"You're welcome." Art smiled but also looked a bit mystified. "Uh, what are you thanking me for?"

"Just… being here," he said. "Some divorced kids have to have two dinners, one with their mom and one with their dad, and I'm just glad it isn't like that for us."

"Well, I'm not about to take on cooking Thanksgiving dinner by myself," he said, chuckling. "I'd end up like Tim Allen in 'The Santa Clause'. Remember? He burns the turkey, and they have to go out for Christmas dinner."

"Potential cooking mishaps aside," Artie said, as he studied his dad carefully. "I'm just glad you're here. So, really, thanks."

"You're welcome." His dad still looked confused. "Really."

His father had the bachelor lifestyle down pat, but part of Artie still wondered if, deep down, Art longed for romance. Maybe not with his mom, but with someone, and were these family dinners just a painful reminder that he'd be going home alone? Artie had never analyzed his parents and their relationships quite to this extent before. He supposed his own recent experiences of love and loss had a little something to do with it.