Artie

He was thankful that Kitty was in Lima on Saturday and willing to get together with him. That short time they'd had at the party, to try to clear the air, was just not enough. He wanted to talk to her, without an audience and without alcohol. The best they could do was the Lima Bean, which was absolutely crawling with high schoolers that day. But it was a little less personal than meeting at either person's house, so Artie just rolled with it. He was good at that, after all...

It was kind of fitting that, while Artie was hanging out with Kitty, Sam, Blaine, and Tina had gone out to relive their "trio" days. To their credit, they did invite Artie, especially since they went to Kings Island. Everyone remembered that Artie got to pass lines as a wheelchair user and that he could take along up to three companions.

But just like the old days, Artie had declined their invitation in order to meet up with Kitty. Only, as he was bitterly reminded when he struggled with himself over whether or not to pay for her coffee, they weren't together anymore. Be that as it may, Artie already knew what she'd order and figured it would be weirder not to buy it and not to have it be sitting there, on the table, when she arrived. So that was what he did. The barista was intelligent enough to notice Artie couldn't reach the top counter, nor could he carry two hot lattes back to the table himself, and so he brought them over to him. It was then that Artie looked up and noticed the familiar face and dreadlocks.

He had a complicated history with Joe Hart. He hadn't approved, at all, when Joe had tried to hit on Quinn Fabray during rehab after her accident. Joe got away with it all, being an innocent homeschooled kid, but Artie always suspected it was a ploy. A game. There was no way Joe didn't know what he was doing. But no matter, he supposed. All ancient history now...

"Oh, hey, Joe," said Artie. "How long have you worked here?"

"Since my family got back from Africa," Joe Hart replied, as he set the lattes on the table. "So, for a few months now. I usually just come in before school and on the weekends. I'm a morning person, so it works. Gotta save money for our summer missions."

"Are there really that many heathens in Africa?" Artie asked, taking a sip of his latte.

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

After an awkward pause, Joe then said, "Well, hey, man, I've gotta get back to work. But we sure miss having you in glee club. The stage looks pretty boring without you zipping across on your wheels!"

Artie gave a big, appreciative laugh at Joe's sentiment and thanked him for saying so. Now that the Quinn thing was in the past, he found he harbored no real ill will towards one Joe Hart.

As Joe walked back to the counter, Kitty slipped in the front door, looking cute and cozy in a loose-fitting grey sweater, skirt, boots, and patterned leggings. Kitty once told him that she tried to dress up in her nicer clothes as much as she could, to make up for the fact that nearly every day at school had to be spent in that awful Cheerios uniform.

"You look pretty," Artie heard himself say it before he meant to say it, and she smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear in that coy way that she always had done anytime she received a compliment.

"Thanks, I'm just cherishing my last couple of days of normal clothes," she said. "I was thinking of starting a petition, as captain, to ditch the uniforms all winter."

Artie pretended to look shocked as he handed her her latte. "But then how would people know your place in the social hierarchy without them?"

"Oh, they'd still know." Kitty sipped her latte, and Artie could practically read her thoughts, over what he'd just said. Before exploding said hierarchy...

"Well, it would be a welcomed change for the Cheerios, and I encourage you to fight for it, if it's what you believe in," Artie said, sipping his coffee, too.

"I believed in us," Kitty said, flatly. "But you didn't encourage me to fight for that. And you didn't exactly fight for it either, when you stopped texting me back, except for like, one word, and I always had to be the one starting the conversations or initiating the calls... why, Artie?"

Her ambush had caught him off-guard. One minute they had been making small talk about the Cheerios, the next minute, she was unleashing the full extent of her wrath.

"I know I said I understood, when we talked at the party," she went on. "But really don't get it. Why did you push me away?

I would never push people away... That was a lie he'd once told Tina. Or maybe it had been true at the time. But apparently, he did it all the time now. Especially people he cared a lot about.

"I guess I didn't believe in what we had." Suddenly his coffee didn't taste nearly as good as the first few sips that he'd had before she'd arrived.

Kitty furrowed her brow. "I don't think I gave you a reason not to believe in what we had, Artie," she said. "I mean, I keep thinking back to everything that happened between us. Last summer. Nationals. The hotel room." That got his attention. "You were my first, Artie."

Artie swallowed hard. "Well, you don't want me to be your last." When Kitty just stared at him, he sighed and looked around. He really wanted to make sure no one they knew was going to suddenly pop in and overhear this. "Kitty, I'm only gonna say it once, and it's not a ploy for your pity. It's just honesty. You need to be with a regular guy."

Kitty didn't react the way he thought she would. She didn't immediately defend her position and insist that Artie's differences didn't matter. She tilted her head to the side. "Go on?"

"I feel like you're forcing yourself to be in a relationship with me," he said. "Because you don't want to hurt me. It was hard enough when I was still in high school. But now with me gone? And you've still got two years? Kitty, these two years, they're yours, and if you still want me after two years? Then..."

"Then, what, you'll dump your girlfriend for me?" Kitty shot back. "Tell me, honestly, that there's not some girl that you're curious about."

"There's not some girl that I'm curious about," Artie insisted. "But... but there could be. And I think, if we're going to have a healthy relationship with a real chance someday, we need to let that play out. On both sides."

Kitty paused, and then came the reaction he'd expected. "The part I don't like the most is how you're telling me I need a regular guy," she said. "What even is that? Ryder? Ryder's not even a regular guy. In case you didn't notice, he's in glee club. Bree made sure to point it out."

"I do take a little comfort in that fact," Artie said, smiling a little. "That it seems like you have a type and that you're not about to just date the quarterback. Unless he happens to be in glee club."

Kitty was smiling too, now. "I can deal with a break," she finally said. "As long as you agree that, when I show up on that campus in two years, you wheel me to my first class."

Artie pretended to think. "But what if your first class is like, on the other side of campus and not in the direction I'm going?"

"Then you go out of your way," she said, smugly.

"It's a deal."

Sunday was the last day before the holidays ended, but it wouldn't be long before they'd be back in Lima for the Christmas holidays next, and Artie looked forward to it, knowing that college students got a week or so longer than the high schoolers, which undoubtedly meant that they'd all find an excuse to crash McKinley and show up for a glee rehearsal or two.

Today was the Sunday that Amy had agreed to visit church with Artie, Sam, and Quinn.

Mercedes opted to go to her church instead, in order to see her friends there at least once before she headed back to L.A. to book her next big opening act. Opening for Ariana Grande had been the start of many new possibilities for her.

"Is this even what you wear to church?" Amy asked, from the top of the stairs, where Sam and Artie now waited at the bottom for her. "It's too cold for anything but jeans. But my coat is dressy."

"You look great," Sam told her. "Our church is really casual. Even the pastor usually wears jeans when he's preaching."

And so, off to church they went, stopping to pick up Quinn along the way. Sam was driving Artie's car that day, Amy was up front, leaving Quinn to climb in the back next to Artie. She was wearing a dress. Amy's expression could not have been clearer.

Quinn caught the look, too, and quickly reassured Amy, saying, "I just like to dress up, that's all."

"You look nice," Artie added.

"Thanks," said Quinn, grinning at him. "So do you."

Artie had opted for the fitted dark khakis again, that somehow looked okay, even with his legs being as thin as they were. He'd paired that with a button-down denim shirt and his dark blue low top sneakers that naturally still looked brand new. The pleated khakis, sweater vests, and suspenders had, in fact, been donated before he'd left for college.

They were going early, to join the small group bible study before church that morning. It was on the second floor, so they took an elevator up and, as soon as it opened, they were greeted and offered donuts and coffee.

"Gotta pass on the donuts," Sam said. "Not on the diet. But then, neither was Thanksgiving. Gotta start the cleanse."

After that comment, the rest of them passed on the donuts, even Amy, who was so naturally slim that she'd never so much as thought about the concept of a diet in her whole life.

Quinn led them to a room with a few chairs in a circle, kindly moving one to give Artie some space and taking the seat next to his. Amy sat on the other side of her brother, crossing her legs toward Sam. They were the first ones in the room for a few minutes, but then others — some couples, some singles, all college-aged young adults — filed into the room. Every single person who entered stopped to introduce themselves to Amy and Artie, the visitors, before taking a seat. Artie could recall, from the days of belonging to a church, that greeting guests was a big deal. It didn't mean everyone practiced what they preached, but given that these people did, Artie already had a pretty favorable impression of them thus far.

After everyone had chatted over coffee and donuts for awhile, the Sunday school teacher started off by taking prayer requests. Artie glanced at Amy, who was still looking like she felt a little out of place in that room. Sam had put his arm around her in a display of affection that Artie was still getting used to.

"Hey, man," Sam said, leaning across Amy to address Artie under his breath. "Is it okay if I ask for prayers for you, for your decisions about treatment and stuff?"

But Amy was already shaking her head before Artie could even answer for himself. "Prayer requests," she said, disdainfully. "Just turn into an excuse for gossip."

Quinn heard her. "In some cases, that's true," she admitted. "I know when I was pregnant... well, let's just say, it wasn't everyone, but I did get that from a few people. Thankfully, all those people have since left this congregation."

"To answer your question for myself, Sam," Artie spoke up, after giving his sister a look. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"What treatment?" Quinn wanted to know.

"I'll tell you later," Artie said.

"What treatment?" Quinn asked him again later.

After the service had ended, the four had opted to go out for lunch together, choosing their favorite burger place. As a friendly gesture, the pastor and his wife had arranged to join them, minus their three children who had gone to the grandparents' house after church, in order to get to know their church visitors.

Quinn had deliberately asked Artie the question while the pastor and his wife were still ordering and had yet to join them at the table.

"The spinal fusion surgery that I had when I was a freshman has sort of failed," he explained. "My doctor suggested I just wear a brace, but I think a second surgery might be better. I'm going to find a doctor in Columbus to give me a second opinion."

Quinn looked horrified, and Artie knew why. Her surgery to repair her spine, after it had been badly compressed in her accident, was similar to his. Artie wanted to reassure her that she was probably fine, but he couldn't do that, because you never really knew. Quinn probably needed to be careful.

Before Quinn, could say anything else, though, the pastor pulled the chair out for his pregnant wife, as they joined the other four at the table.

"Thanks for the invite, Sam," said Pastor Nick. "It's Artie, right? And this is your sister?"

"Aren't you my sub?" Nick's wife suddenly said, pointing at Amy, who looked equally surprised to see her.

"You're Mrs. Mahaney!" she said. "I'm sorry I didn't see you earlier. Yes, I'm Amy Abrams, I'll be covering your classes while you have that baby. Uh, how are you feeling?"

"Call me Lara. And... not great, actually," she confessed, sighing a little. "I'm supposed to have a few more weeks, but I think it might be sooner rather than later this time around. I see my doctor Monday after school. I've had a lot of swelling this time around."

"I can start whenever you need," Amy said, quickly. "If your doctor makes you stay home, I'm ready."

"Hopefully he'll just send me to the hospital to be induced," was Lara's reply. "And if he does, well, I know the glee club is in good hands."

Amy looked kind of giddy about the prospect of starting her long-term sub job early, but she made sure to also show concern for the pastor's wife.

"My baby was a little early," said Quinn, much to Artie's surprise, as Quinn hardly ever talked about her baby and today, she'd already mentioned it not once but twice. "She was fine."

It was then that Lara mentioned baby number three had been a few weeks early as well. At this, Artie saw Amy looking rather stunned by the revelation that this was, in fact, the couple's fourth baby. Mrs. Mahaney looked like she couldn't be much older than thirty.

"I couldn't imagine having more than two," Amy commented later, when the four were getting back in the car after lunch. "Maybe because I just have a brother and I kind of think that's perfect."

"I mean, obviously," said Artie, as he settled himself into the backseat, letting Sam handle his chair. "Since you do have the perfect brother."

"I'd have at least three," Sam commented, as he went to stow the chair in the back. Amy looked at him like he was crazy, when he returned, mouthing: "Three?"

Something for those two to work out," Quinn teased, as Artie looked less than amused.

"Not any time soon, let's hope," Artie said.