Artie

Artie was glad he'd ended up paired with Mason. All he had known about the younger guy was that he was one half of the Cheerio twins and that he and Kitty were good friends. (Bree Westbrook once tried to make that look like more than that, but it wasn't.) He hadn't counted on that deep soulful voice and hadn't counted on Mason being capable of more than just bubble-gum pop songs with his sister.

That was why he especially hated to let him down.

Everyone ended up staying so late on Monday that the janitors had to kick them out of the school. (The janitors actually cleaned the choir room now? They'd really moved up in the world.) They were all having too much fun with their mentors.

And Amy stayed, even though she wasn't being paid to be there past 4:00. Although Artie hadn't initially been thrilled to see Amy hijack glee club, even he had to admit, pairing every visiting alumni with a current glee club member was a stroke of genius. She had a real knack for organizing people and events. All those years of being a bossy know-it-all had finally paid off.

Back to Mason. He'd shared his complete obsession with Alanis Morissette, and Artie could attest to the fact that they'd never done an Alanis song in glee club before. He told Mason he loved the idea, and Mason picked 'Head Over Feet.' Artie borrowed Sam's guitar to accompany him, figuring out the chords with the help of the internet and his memory of the song. Both guys had kind of laughed as Mason stumbled over the lyric: "You treat me like I'm a princess."

"Well, uh," Mason said, stopping as Artie did the same, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm not sure I've ever told a girl that she treated me like a princess. But I don't know what else to say in place of that."

Artie had thought for a moment, then shrugged, "I am priceless? Maybe? I dunno, that sounds funny, too..."

In the end, they just skipped it and decided maybe they'd meet up before school and at lunch to try and fix it. It turned out that everyone else was exchanging phone numbers with their mentors and making plans to do the same. As with anything in glee club, this had turned into a competition.

But later that evening, at home, Artie's mother had casually reminded him that his annual visit with the orthopedic surgeon, the very same one who'd pieced him back together eleven years ago and then done the spinal fusion surgery the summer after freshmen year, was scheduled for Tuesday afternoon. He'd had an MRI back in September, during his brief visit home, and now it was time for a follow-up to review his test results.

Not only that, but his mother, thinking she was doing him a favor, had lined that one up to follow two other annual appointments, one with his urologist and one with his dermatologist. Artie was exhausted just thinking about it. But when he'd made the mistake of complaining about the timing over dinner, the dinner that his mother had just finished cooking for them, she'd thrown her potholder down in disgust.

"Well, I can't win, Artie," she had angrily shot back at him. "Tell you what, since you're nineteen now, you schedule these appointments from here on out."

This had been particularly embarrassing, with Sam being present at the table that evening, probably wondering why Artie had to go to so many doctors. Sometimes Artie wondered the same thing. Could there not be some magical unicorn of a doctor who could just check out all the things? This was one of those times where he felt so, so much older than his actual age. When Artie's mom picked up on the fact that she'd just humiliated him in front of his friend, she softened a bit.

"Sorry," she'd said, stopping and resting a hand on his shoulder. "I just don't like scheduling these any more than you like going. I just thought it would be doing you a favor, to have them all on the same day this year..."

"No, it's okay, Mom," Artie had said, touching the hand she'd placed on his shoulder with his. "It's good to get them all done at once, you're right. And I will schedule them myself next time."

And that was why Artie ended up having to let Mason down. Or, at least, that was what he thought would happen. When Mason picked up the phone that evening, Artie immediately launched into an explanation, an apology, and a possible solution, since he'd thought it all through before calling the guy.

"Mason, it's Artie, listen I'm really sorry, but I can't be there tomorrow," he said, quickly, hardly pausing for a breath. "I have a doctor's appointment. Actually... three appointments. It'll take all day. But maybe we could pair you up with another mentor. You wanna ask your sister if you can work with her and Brittany?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, as Mason seemed to be processing this.

"I, uh, I don't really wanna work with Madison," he finally said. "If that's okay, I mean. Um, what about... Jane and Mercedes? Maybe you could call Mercedes for me a-and find out when they're meeting?"

That would have seemed random, had Artie not already noticed the way Mason sat by Jane, studied Jane, seemed to be all about Jane. Artie noticed these things, because he used to do these things. After he figured out where the girl he liked sat in the choir room (first it was Tina, then Brittany, then Sugar), he usually rearranged the chairs in the choir room when nobody was looking, so that the empty space was next to his latest love interest. (Kitty had complicated that plan by preferring the back row.)

"Sure, I can call Mercedes," Artie agreed.

"Cool, thanks," Mason had said. Then he added, "That's a lot of doctors. Are you, like... okay?"

"Yeah, these are just check-ups," Artie said, quickly. He hated the fact that everyone was going to notice his absence tomorrow and probably wonder the same thing. He didn't like people thinking he was sick, especially since he wasn't. But having three doctor appointments definitely gave that impression.

There was a light knock on the door, and Artie knew that would be Amy, since she'd knock whereas Sam would barge in, because they shared a tiny room together at school and there were no secrets now.

"Come in," he said, from where he sat stretched out on his bed, as Amy slipped in and sat on the foot of his bed, wearing her grey sweats and fuzzy slippers, her hair damp from her shower. Artie was pretty sure he knew what this was about, since she'd entered in such an uncharacteristically quiet manner.

"I know you've been up there making out with Sam every night this week," Artie said, saving her the trouble. Her eyes got wide and, in a moment, his expression matched hers. "Actually... that was a guess, but it looks like I was right."

"I didn't kiss him Saturday night," she said, quickly. "I was too worried about Sunday being... being what it was. Listen..." she went on, sighing deeply. "I like him, but he told me you made him promise not to try to start anything with me."

"I guess that was my mistake," Artie said, coolly. "It looks like I should have been saying that to you instead." When Amy didn't say anything, Artie's next move was to explode. "Amy, you're five years older than him!"

"I wasn't coming here for your permission," Amy replied, as Artie drew back in surprise. "More like I just wanted to make sure you knew, because I'm not okay with hiding my feelings for him anymore."

Artie lay down and turned on his side, not wishing to discuss it any further. "If my opinion counts for nothing," he told her. "Then we have nothing more to talk about."

He felt her hand on his shoulder. "Actually, we do," she said. "I also just wanted to tell you, I'm sorry you won't be able to join us tomorrow. But I just talked to Rachel Berry about it—"

That got Artie to look over his shoulder at her. "You talked to Rachel?"

Amy nodded. "We were sort of friends when she was in Mr. Ryerson's glee club," she said. "Anyway, she called me to talk about tomorrow. She said that she wants to host a huge glee party in her basement tomorrow night, alumni and current members."

"Uh, and you think getting drunk with a bunch of minors is a good idea, if you want to keep subbing at McKinley?"

Amy paused. He had her there. "Fine, I won't go," she said. "I was just telling you so you didn't have to be all depressed about missing tomorrow. You'll still get at least one more chance to see everyone before we all disperse for the holiday."

"Thanks."

He had nothing snarky to say to that, but he really was going to have to go to bed soon, if he was going to wake up bright and early enough to haul his ass to appointment number one. Plus, he still needed her to leave, so he could call Mercedes and put her in touch with Mason before tomorrow. He turned his head away from her again, closing his eyes, hoping she'd take the hint and go.

The next morning, Artie found himself thinking about all the fun he was missing at the school, while he sat in three different waiting rooms, each one of his appointments starting no less than thirty minutes past the scheduled time. His mother, ever the experienced one, knew this would happen and had spread them out enough to make it doable. He just had to bring snacks with him, if he wanted to eat.

Each waiting room contained him, along with half a dozen or so other patients, all of them grandparent or great-grandparent age. Each room also had a lot of concerned grannies who eyed him with both curiosity and pity, recognizing him as a person who didn't rightfully belong there, and yet there he was.

One thing that cheered him up was the text he got, in the middle of the day, while waiting for his second appointment.

It was from Mercedes, and it was a picture of Mason and Jane posing sweetly by the piano. It looked like they had been in the choir room to get a little practice in after lunch.

"We mashed up their songs!" said Mercedes' text. "She was doing Carole King's 'Will You Love Me Tomorrow?' and you know he was doing 'Head Over Feet.' Put them together and they sound AMAZING! I'll be sure and record it to show you later. Sorry you can't be here."

"Can't wait to hear it," Artie typed back, feeling both excited and glum. Excited because he truly loved the mash-up concept, and if his absence had resulted in that, then there was one good thing that came of it. Glum, of course, because he'd rather be there to see it than just watch a video of it.

"Artie Abrams?"

That was Artie's cue to head towards the back. It was kind of annoying that the nurse was young and cute and yet here he was, at the urologist, not in any damn position to flirt. He just answered all the questions and followed all the directions. Before he knew it, he'd been cleared a second time, and once again, the actual appointment lasted a fraction of the time he'd spent waiting.

"So far, my pee is normal, my skin is okay, no sores, a little edema at my joints but symmetrical, so he said it's still normal," Artie said, when his mom called for a full report.

Artie was so used to broadcasting various things about his bodily functions that, after all these years now, he didn't even flinch. What was weird was doing this the adult way now, by not having his mom tagging along for the visits, asking a million questions. He guessed that she'd probably prefer he be ready with more questions, but the honest truth was, Artie didn't want to. He already didn't want to make it take any longer than it had to, and anyway, if something were wrong, they'd tell him.

That brought him to the third, and final appointment, and checking the time as he entered the last waiting room, his heart sank a little when he realized glee club practice was starting right then.

After thirty more minutes of waiting, it was finally his turn once more.

"Mr. Abrams, I heard you were coming today, but if I hadn't, I wouldn't have recognized you one bit," said a kind voice belonging to Sally, the nurse who had, as he was told, sat with him eleven years ago, well past the end of her shift, until she'd been able to brief the entire family on his condition.

"Hi, Sally," he said, pushing his wheels to follow her back to the office. After he transferred onto the table and she did an initial examination, also making a comment about the mild edema, he had just a few moments to wait alone again before Dr. Roth showed up to talk about his MRI.

"Artie!" Dr. Roth beamed at him. "Sally did say I wasn't going to recognize you, and she was right. Tell me, how's college going?"

"It's good," Artie reported. "I live with my friend, Sam. He's the first male synchronized swimmer the school has ever had. And he's helping me train for the Paralympics in Rio in 2016." And Artie flexed a bicep, grinning proudly. "My plan is to swim in the games."

"I'm really excited about that plan, Artie," he said, as he then put up the MRI, as nurse Sally slipped back into the room. "But I need to make you aware of something. Son, I don't know how to tell you this, but if you've been doing heavy-duty bench pressing, you need to slow down with adding weight and get some more trunk support."

He directed Artie's attention to the MRI. The steel rods that had been put there right after freshman year were the brightest thing on the image. You could also see the fused vertebrae at the lumbar part of the spine, if you know what you were looking for. The doctor went on to explain that he was falling out of alignment once more, though just slightly, and it wouldn't require another invasive surgery like the one he'd had three years ago, but it was going to require he make some changes. For starters, the doctor pulled out a brace, telling him that they'd have to do a fitting to make one to his specifications. He put the sample brace around Artie's waist, though, to give him an idea. Artie frowned when he realized it was going to restrict his movement even more.

"How long would I need to wear it?" Artie asked, frowning as he spotted his reflection in the mirror.

"Ideally, twenty to twenty-three hours a day," said Dr. Roth. "You could take it off for swimming and showering but it might be best if you sleep in it. At least, for awhile. So, we'll need a follow up appointment fairly soon for a fitting, then a follow-up after a few months to examine you again. Then in six, another MRI and—"

"Another follow-up," Artie supplied.

Dr. Roth gave a sympathetic smile and patted his shoulder. "We've got to avoid another surgery for you, Artie," he said. "At all costs."

At all costs, Artie repayed that line bitterly, as he scheduled his first follow up for Friday afternoon, before leaving to get in his car and go home, since it was nearly 5:00 now and glee practice was long over. The price he paid was always high, but the doctor was right. He shuddered to think of another surgery, when the first two had been painful and traumatic enough.

When he checked his phone, he had several text messages. One from Tina, one from Mike, one from Quinn, and one from Puck. All of them said the same thing, how they missed him, how they hoped his appointments went well. As he was starting to reply to each of them, one more came in. Kitty's.

Thinking of you, it read. Really missed you today. Hope you'll be at Rachel's party. It would be great to get a chance to really talk soon.