Chapter 6: Holding Out For a Hero

GRIFFIN

After Artie won their 'all or nothing' game of bowling (meaning that he had successfully come in last place during all three games, with Griffin winning two and Ella coming up from behind and taking the third), he suggested that they hit up the bowling alley's arcade before they left. They played Dance Dance Revolution (Ella's favorite), shot hoops on the basketball game (Griffin's favorite), played skee ball (Sebastian's favorite), and the one where you ride a motorcycle and race through the animated streets (Artie's least favorite) before one of the bowling alley's teenage employees earning minimum wage came over the intercom announcing that they would be closing in ten minutes.

As the foursome headed for the exit, something seemed to catch Artie's eye.

"Hey, look," Artie pointed. "A Big Quench machine. I could really go for one of those right now. Anyone else want a little treat on the way out?"

"Ooh, me!" Ella agreed, and Sebastian nodded along.

Seb and Ella went first, each grabbing the largest size cup and serving themselves. The lever on the machine was just out of Artie's comfortable reach, which Griffin noticed, so he grabbed two cups– one for each of them. All Artie had to do was point to the red side of the machine, and Griffin knew to fill his cup all the way with the cherry flavor.

"I don't know how you can still drink these, Artie," Griffin said as he filled up Artie's slushie cup first and handed it to him, his brother licking his lips hungrily. "I can't even look at them without remembering the feeling of sheer, unmitigated anger I had that day in the guys' room at school."

"Yeah, but they taste a lot better than they feel," Artie grinned as he took another huge gulp of his drink. For someone so small, Artie was always one to be the bigger person and move past any horrible experience. "Plus, the sugar makes up for it."

"What happened?" Sebastian wondered, taking a sip of his blue raspberry flavored beverage and wincing at the tart taste.

"Oh, you know, just a bunch of douchebags who dump these things on top of his head about once a year," Griffin filled Sebastian in, rolling his eyes. "It's kind of a bullying trend at McKinley. Tossing slushies on the people you don't like."

"Oh, he's familiar with the art of slushying," Artie was quick to confirm, and Griffin caught the glare that Sebastian was giving Artie. Artie had called him a few weeks back to rant about Sebastian throwing a slushie filled with rock salt at Blaine, getting him in the eye and scratching his cornea, but Griffin had all but forgotten about that until this moment.

"Yeah, well once, when Artie was a freshman, I had the privilege of being the one to clean him up after some of the players on my football team got to him," Griffin shared. "Ever since, I haven't been able to enjoy these drinks. It blows my mind that he still can."

"You were my heroic knight in… an Under Armour performance shirt and some running shorts," Artie quipped. "Ready to rescue me, like always."

Lima, Ohio

September 2009

Seniors at McKinley were allowed a free period in order to give them time to work on college applications and essays, but Griffin had been spending his free block in the weight room, getting some extra lifting in so that he could bulk up in time for football season. He was prepared to spend more time at home working on his college applications, even though he was pretty sure he just wanted to go to Ohio State and stay close to home.

Griffin had a towel wrapped around his waist, having just hopped out of the locker room shower, as he prepared to change back into his clothes for the day when a group of annoying sophomores led by Azimio Adams and David Karofsky entered the locker room, boasting about some freshmen they'd targeted in the hallway. (He may have been on the football team, but slushy-ing was one activity that Griffin had never partaken in. It seemed unnecessarily cruel, and really just wasn't his style.) Griffin wasn't entirely trying to eavesdrop, the guys were just being so loud that it was impossible not to listen in.

"You know the cripple a year behind us? The nerd who wears the suspenders?" Dave Karofsky asked the others in his posse. After overhearing the boy use the hurtful 'c-word' that disgusted Griffin so much, his attention was piqued. Especially when it became clear they were talking about Artie. "We got both him and his little girlfriend!"

"Blue slushie covering his glasses, his hair, everything!" Azimio added, high-fiving Dave as the two boys and their entourage laughed. "He was the perfect target– I can't believe it took us almost a month into the school year to show him who's boss!"

Griffin felt the color drain from his face as what he'd overheard began to set in.

"What the hell did you just say?!" Griffin yelled, slamming his locker door and spinning around to face the perpetrators.

"You know, the wheelchair kid from Glee Club?" Karofsky repeated, pushing his chest out proudly with a smirk. "We got him and that Asian girl he's always with good in the hallway. Really shocked him too– he never saw it coming!"

At that, Griffin tugged his shirt over his head and didn't even bother messing with his damp, curly hair to make sure it looked alright before pushing past the group of sophomores– still laughing about and celebrating their cold-hearted actions. He ran out into the hallway, needing to find Artie immediately to make sure he was alright.

He was quick, and it didn't take him long to come across the school custodian mopping up a pile of blue, sugary ice. Griffin's heart began to race even faster than it already was. Looking past the janitor, he could see blue tire tracks leading down the hallway toward the boys' room, obviously an indication of Artie's whereabouts.

Griffin hurried as he followed them, running down the hall and forcefully pushing open the bathroom door. That was where he found Artie, sitting in front of the mirror and the sink below it, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Jesus, Artie! What the hell?!" Griffin exclaimed, quickly locking the door behind him so that nobody could follow him inside. The passing period between classes was about to start, and he didn't want anyone to intrude on them. Artie quickly removed his glasses and wiped his tears away before he was able to bring himself to make eye contact with Griffin.

"The football team got to me," Artie said, sniffling. "Tina and I were just going to English class– she was behind me, pushing my chair– and we were rounding the corner, and there they were. David and Azimio, and I mean, I've seen it happen to Rachel and Kurt, but I… I just didn't know how humiliating it would be."

Griffin swallowed hard. He'd been kind of meaning to ask Artie what was up with all the pushing. His overly independent little brother had never let anyone in their family push his chair, but ever since he'd started high school, he was always being pushed by Tina, or Kurt, or Mercedes every time Griffin saw him in the hallway. It was out of character, but Griff figured now wasn't exactly a good time to bring that up. He'd save that conversation for later.

"How are you feeling? Did your blood pressure–"

"I'm fine, Griff, I promise."

"But your body temperature–"

"Will you just help me clean off my wheels so that they don't rust?"Artie cut him off, his voice rising. "I'm worried about what all of the sugar and stickiness will do to my cushion and the casters. I just got this chair a year ago, and it took eight months for insurance to even approve it, as if I hadn't outgrown my old chair in sixth grade. We can't afford for this one to be ruined already. Dammit, dammit, dammit!" Artie yelled, balling his hand into a fist and slamming it down on his leg in frustration.

Griffin slyly checked the time on his wristwatch. He was minutes away from missing his calculus review, and they had a test tomorrow. But he knew where his priorities lay.

"Come with me, Artie, I have study hall," Griffin lied, having actually just finished his free block for the day. "Let's go get you in the shower in the locker room. We need to get you cleaned up."

"No! No! No!" Artie's eyes grew wide as he vehemently shook his head. "I'm fine! I'll shower when we get home. I can't go in there. I can't let them see me like that."

Artie was starting to panic again, and Griffin could guess why: both boys knew that it would be ten times more complicated for Artie to take a shower in the locker room than the average guy, and without a shower chair, he'd need Griffin's help with everything. And if the locker room was anything, it was not a place where privacy was liberally afforded. So Griffin didn't push the idea any further.

"Okay, okay, I hear you. We'll clean you up in here," Griffin gave in, glancing around the room for any sort of dry material to begin cleaning him off with. "Do you at least have an extra change of clothes? If not, I think I have mine from yesterday in my locker. I know they're not exactly your style, but it's probably better than sitting in this blueberry-flavored mess."

"I have a red t-shirt and jeans in my locker," Artie replied. "We needed them for Glee Club a few weeks back when Finn wanted to do 'Don't Stop Believin''. My lock combination is my birthday."

"Alright, hang tight," Griffin told him. "I'm going to run to your locker, then go get some towels from the locker room. Are you sure you'll be okay in here by yourself?"

Artie nodded and Griffin unlocked the door of the bathroom and walked down the hall, noticing that it had emptied out since he had last been out here, now that the next period of classes had started.

Artie's locker was just around the corner, and Griffin crouched down to enter his combination. He'd never seen the inside of his little brother's locker before; a place all his own in this hell-hole of a high school where he'd been treated so poorly so far. There were magnets holding up pictures of the two of them and Ella, as well as old movie ticket stubs, a sticker of the International Symbol of Access wearing a motorbike helmet, his backup pair of fingerless gloves… the locker was so quintessentially Artie that it made Griffin smile, even despite the circumstances.

Neatly folded on the bottom were the blue jeans, red polo shirt, and black Converse sneakers Artie had worn for the Glee Club performance. Griffin didn't know how many people had actually been there to witness said performance, and even though he thought Glee Club was kind of lame, Griffin kept that to himself. He was just ecstatic that Artie had seemed to find a place at this God-forsaken school where he felt accepted.

After grabbing the clothes, Griffin returned to the now-empty locker room, filling his arms up with as many red towels as he could carry, before returning to the bathroom.

"Hey, Art, it's me," Griffin called, tapping on the outside of the door as he waited for Artie to unlock it and let him inside.

Setting the supplies he'd gathered on the floor, Griffin stood back and surveyed the problem, wondering where to even begin.

There was very little space in the restroom for Artie to get changed independently, and, for that reason, Griffin was grateful that he was around and able to help him so that he didn't have to transfer from his chair.

"You kind of look like a Smurf," Griffin joked, in an attempt to make Artie smile as he was discarding the soiled white button-down shirt he'd been wearing that was now stained blue.

"Did you see the trailer for James Cameron's Avatar movie that comes out in December?" Artie– always the film nerd– asked, to which Griffin shook his head. "I look like one of the blue Na'vi creatures. The main character in the movie is a paraplegic, you know."

"We'll have to go see it when it enters theaters then," Griffin said, knowing that Artie was never one to miss a blockbuster smash– especially a movie that featured a disabled character when there were so few.

Griffin dampened a towel in the sink and began scrubbing Artie's head, where the pieces of his brown hair had begun to stick together.

"I'm sorry, Griffin. You shouldn't have to do this."

Griffin laughed and shook his head at how ludicrous that sounded coming out of Artie's mouth.

"What? Why are you laughing?"

"Are you listening to yourself right now?!" Griffin exclaimed, taking Artie's glasses in his hand and gently running them under the sink water and wiping the lenses clean. "I can't do this anymore, Artie. I can't just stand by as people fucking throw slushies at you or push you down flights of stairs for just existing. For just living your life. I can't do it. I know you'll want me to just back off those guys and pretend like nothing is wrong, but this is my breaking point. You may be fine with all of this, but I'm not. You're my favorite person in the world, Artie. Has it ever occurred to you that this hurts me too? Pretending that I don't see the way people treat you? Pretending that I don't have a problem with it? "

Artie didn't have anything to say to his brother's outburst, so Griffin continued his task, motioning for Artie to use his arms to push up on the armrests of his chair so that he could pull the blue-stained khakis off.

"Art, your skin is freezing. We should really get you in the shower. You need to warm up," Griffin tried again to coax Artie into what they both knew was best for him, but Artie's stubbornness prevailed.

"I'll just take one when we get home," he repeated, observing now as Griffin wiped the skin on his legs with the towel before slipping the dry pair of jeans onto him.

"Fine, dude, whatever," Griffin said against his better judgment, working the new pair of shoes onto Artie's feet before positioning his feet on the footrest. "Lucky for the chair, you seem to have taken the brunt of the attack. When we get home this afternoon, I'll take apart your chair and give it a more thorough cleaning while you're showering. Your backpack seems okay, though, which is good."

Griffin knew that in addition to Artie's notebooks, homework, and textbooks, his backpack also carried important medications and medical supplies that needed to remain untainted and sterile.

"Where's Tina now?"

"In class," Artie answered. "I think I was those guys' real target and she was just collateral damage. She wasn't left nearly as blue– especially since her whole outfit was black anyways. She wanted to help me get cleaned off, but I knew she would get points docked off of her next quiz if she's late for history, so I told her to go."

Typical Artie, Griffin thought as he watched Artie fuss with his half-damp-half-sticky hair in the mirror. Always looking out for everyone else around him.

"I'm sorry," Artie tried again as he made eye contact with Griffin through the mirror, to which Griffin rolled his eyes.

"Do you hear how ridiculous you sound? You just got… assaulted for God's sake, and you're apologizing."

"It's fine," Artie said unconvincingly, looking away and showing Griffin that he really didn't want to have this conversation now… or ever.

"It's not fine! Can't you see that? You're a fucking person, Artie!"

"It's okay," Artie insisted, shrugging and looking like he wished Griffin would quiet down before somebody passing by the door overheard their conversation. "They just… don't get it. And the guys who did this… they're not the kind of people who would benefit from enduring a lecture on why they were in the wrong, so promise me you won't say anything to them, okay? I just want to go to my next period class and pretend like nothing ever happened."

The end-of-period bell sounded in the distance, signaling that they had missed the entire block.

"Thank you, Griff, for all of your help here, seriously. But I have to get to class."

Artie pushed by him and headed for the bathroom door, unlocking it and wheeling out into the hallway.

It angered Griffin that Artie couldn't see himself the way Griffin did. The way he knew Ella and their parents and Tina and his other new Glee Club friends saw him. Artie didn't see himself as a person worthy of basic decency and respect, and that broke Griffin's heart.

He had so many people who love him– adore him– and accept him just as he is, and surely there would be many, many more in the future.

Griffin only wished Artie knew that.

"Wait a damn minute!" Artie exclaimed, hearing some details of this story for the first time himself, even though he was there. "You never told me that you cut class! You said that you had study hall! What the hell, Griff!"

The siblings had claimed a bench just outside of the bowling alley while Griffin told his story and they sipped on their drinks (Griff wouldn't allow the sticky substances in his truck, for fear that somebody would spill it and make a mess), and Artie leaned over just then to slug Griffin on the arm.

"I didn't want you to worry!" Griffin defended himself, rubbing the spot where his younger brother had hit him pretty forcefully. "Because, admit it, you would have made me leave you and go to class if you knew. And at that moment, making sure you were okay was my top priority. You were shaken up pretty bad, and you were scared, and so was I."

If Artie was bothered by learning that he had skipped class to help clean him up, Griffin knew that Artie would be even more furious when he found out what happened next.

"I didn't exactly keep that promise to you, Art. I was fuming for the rest of the day. So when I saw Karofsky and Azimio in the locker room before practice that afternoon, I couldn't just ignore them. I was seeing red," Griffin said, his hands balling into fists at even just the memory of how he'd felt that day, over two years ago. "I-I needed them to realize that they couldn't mess with you– or anyone else, for that matter– ever again."

When Griffin entered the boys' locker room at the end of the day, he only had one thing on his mind, and it wasn't the drills they'd be doing at football practice.

"Karofsky! Adams!" Griffin bellowed, his voice effectively silencing all of the other guys who were changing before they had to take the field in fifteen minutes. "Where are they?! Let me at 'em!"

Griffin rounded the corner of a line of lockers and spotted Dave Karofsky putting on his shoulder pads.

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

"Uh… care to elaborate?" Karofsky replied, raising an eyebrow, the corners of his lips curling upwards as he sneered.

"You think you can pick on my brother and get away with it?!" Griffin shouted, advancing towards his teammate.

"Wait a minute… the crip is your brother?!" Karofsky dared to laugh, and that– paired with the inexcusable word again– caused Griffin to snap.

Karofsky was a big guy, but the extra time that Griffin had been spending lifting in the weight room worked in his favor as he lunged forward.

Everyone's attention was on them now, watching the spectacle as the senior football star– who was pretty non-confrontational, for the most part– had a mediocre sophomore player pinned up against the wall.

"You listen to me! You can't do that! To him, or to Tina, or to anybody else!" Griffin yelled, his forearm pressing against Karofsky's throat. "You have no idea how bad that could have been! His body doesn't work like ours– something like a slushie facial could be a catalyst for a serious medical emergency, do you hear me?!"

Griff quit while he was ahead, not wanting to air Artie's personal business out for the whole locker room to hear, but also wanting to get his point across that they were all lucky it hadn't been more serious. Because if it had been any worse, Griffin could not have promised that they'd all have made it out alive.

"Just stay away from my little brother!"

"Or what?"

Karofsky got brave just then, tilting his head back and his chin up high. Griffin pulled his fist back, determined to wipe the stupid, cocky expression off of his face. Just before he came in contact with Karofsky's jaw, Mike Chang grabbed Griffin's arm and worked with Finn to hold him back just as Coach Tanaka emerged from his office to see what all the ruckus was about.

"This is your warning!" Griffin continued to yell, even as the underclassmen restrained him and pulled him away. "If I ever see any of you within a hundred feet of Artie again, it'll be the last thing you ever do! Is that clear?!"

The other three were uncharacteristically quiet as they processed what Griffin had just told him, and while he had been prepared for Artie to be angry with him for disobeying his explicit directions, it didn't seem like that was the case.

"You really defended me like that in front of your whole team?" Was all he asked.

Griffin nodded. "Of course I did."

Artie grew quiet again and looked down at his lap as he absent-mindedly moved the plastic straw around in his drink, having lost his appetite for the slushie.

"They left me alone for the rest of that year. But then Griffin graduated," Artie spoke up. "And when G was gone, I guess they just figured I was fair game again."

Griffin, Sebastian, and Ella were all leaning forward in their seats now, wondering what those jerks had done to Artie after the threat of Griffin's presence had dissipated.

"The next year, they slushied me ahead of Glee when we were rehearsing for the halftime performance at the state championship football game. They cornered me again. More of them this time. I don't know how many. Nine? Ten? It doesn't matter. They said something about my brother not being around to protect me anymore." Griffin's jaw stiffened as he swallowed hard, hearing this story for the first time now. "They hit me with, like, eighteen slushies at once, and I think God or the Universe or whatever, knew that I didn't have you looking out for me this time around, because I know it was nothing short of a miracle that I didn't go into AD."

"Hold up," Sebastian cut in, putting his hand up to stop the flow of the story. "What's AD?"

"Autonomic dysreflexia," Artie answered, before taking a break from his story to fill in their newest brother who wasn't entirely versed in his spinal cord injury lingo just yet. "It's a side effect of the SCI. Some folks with spinal cord injuries have over-reactive autonomic nervous systems after their injuries. It's usually seen in people whose injuries are higher than mine, but it can happen to anyone. Basically, when something goes wrong in the body below the level of injury, the damage to the spinal cord prevents the inhibitory signals from alerting the rest of the nervous system. It's rare for it to happen to me since my injury is lower on my spinal cord, but it has happened a few times, and shit's scary as hell. In layman's terms, my nervous system has been crappy since my accident, and that's why I have to be cognizant of my body temperature, my blood pressure, my heart rate, that sort of stuff."

"You've been sent into AD over smaller things, though," Griffin said, shaking his head and trying to make sense of the situation. "Like a minor UTI or overheating… You'd have to watch your temp for days afterward."

"Yeah," Ella agreed. "How did eighteen slushies not make your body freak out?"

Artie shrugged. "All it takes is one trigger affecting my nerves in the wrong way, and it's all downhill from there. Like I said, some higher power must've been looking out for me that day, because I didn't have anyone to clean me up or take me home that time around. I had to sit in my cherry-flavored stickiness for the duration of Glee Club, and I was miserable. But Beiste ripped those guys a new one, I know she did. She doesn't tolerate bullying of any kind, and she and I got kind of close when I was on the football team, since, y'know, I was always on the sidelines with her, suggesting plays and stuff."

Griffin saw the flicker of confusion on Seb's face, and for a moment it looked like he wanted to ask about how Artie had managed to land a spot on the football team, but he kept his mouth shut. That seemed to be a story for another day.

"You know, it is a shame that the cold temperatures don't agree with you anymore," Griffin said, standing up and effortlessly tossing his now-empty Big Quench cup into the trash can in a way that only a former basketball star could. "We used to love playing in the snow as kids."

"Oh, I don't think there was anyone who loved snow more than me," Artie agreed. "There was a time that a blizzard came through and Mom tried to cancel my birthday party, but I don't think we have time to reminisce on that one."

Griffin checked his watch and shrugged. "We've got time before the 'rents said we had to be home. Anyone wanna drive around for a while? Part of the deal to get me to come home from Columbus for the weekend was that Mom had to fill up my tank. Who's down to guzzle some gas for a bit?"

I hope everyone is enjoying this story so far. Please leave me a review if you're reading so I can see what you think!