AN: Thanks again for the reviews. :) This website got a whole lot more complicated from my days writing *cough*nsync fanfics and I wish I knew how to send PMs and such.
"Artie? Artie, are you OK?" the boy moaned, rubbing his forehead, and as he opened his eyes, he automatically reached out for his glasses.
"Oh, here," a different voice called, handing him the familiar thick plastic pair of frames.
Artie blinked a few times as Mr. Schuster and the new nurse, Mrs. Nuro, came into focus. "What?" he mumbled, looking around the cramped nurse's room. "Don't you have class, Mr. Shue?"
Mr. Shue just nodded. "Cancelled it when I heard, Artie. It's all my fault. I've been working you boys too hard for sectionals."
"No, it's not. If anything, you've made me feel a part of something real for the first time in my life." Artie nodded, referring to the ongoing effort to get a handicapable bus for sectionals. So far, their efforts had failed, but the team seemed to understand him a whole lot more now that they had to be in wheelchairs. "This happens to me every once in a while. My muscles got all messed up in the accident and they still hurt sometimes. It doesn't usually make me pass out though." Artie shook his head, trying to imagine what sort of scene he'd caused back in math class. He'd be the talk of the school for weeks.
Mr. Shue nodded, thoughtful. "Well, first period is almost over and I'm sure everyone will hear about it soon enough."
"Oh gosh. I hope you didn't..."
"It wasn't only me, I swear." Mr. Shue held up his hands and Artie couldn't help but believe him. "Rachel thought it was--"
"What did I think?" Rachel smiled pulling open the door to the nurse's office.
"Shouldn't you be in class, Rachel?" Mr. Shue shot her a nasty look, mostly for Artie's sake.
"Yes, but they never hold study hall until the final bell. Anyway, Artie, I heard what happened from Jacob, who heard it from Matt Jones, who sits in your math class. I'm awfully sorry about what happened. I mean, I never really understood what it must be like before this week-" Rachel probably would have kept talking, but she was rudely interrupted by the bell. "Oh, anyway, I've got to go! I've got choir practice next and I'm sure if I'm the first person there, Mr. Charles will give me the solo. That's what he did last year." She looked briefly down at Artie, as if barely remembering why she was here. "Oh, I hope you feel better, Artie. Oh, and Artie, I hope you don't mind, but I told the whole glee club to come down and visit you."
"Great," Artie said sarcastically as Rachel bounced out the door. "Just great."
"By the way, how are you feeling?" Mr. Shue looked at Artie nervously, as if he could pass out again at any given moment.
"I'm OK," Artie tried to smile, just as a wave of pain overcame him. He grunted. "Been better."
"Maybe we should take him to the hospital." The nurse half asked, looking concerned.
"No!" Artie shouted.
"No," Mr. Shue said, more quietly. "Let's wait til his parents come."
"You called my parents?" Artie asked, mortified at the prospect of his parents here at the merciless McKinley high school. He sighed, preparing to lose all dignity.
"It's school policy, Artie. I had to," Mrs. Nuro shrugged.
Thankfully, the door opened at that moment, revealing Kurt and Mercedes, each carrying a thick science text book. "Hey, boy," Mercedes said with a shy smile. "We had to drop by to see how you were doing."
"Yeah, Rachel must have sent 12000 texts about it," Kurt said with a short laugh, trying to lighten up even the most serious situation.
Mercedes nodded, "You know we've got your back, right, Artie?"
"Thanks, guys," Artie smiled weakly, wishing he had the strength to sit up, but there was still a dull ache pounding his back.
"Anyway, we'd love to stay and chat, but we've got chem lab. I can't bear the thought of missing the directions and spilling chemicals on my pants... again." Kurt swept back his hair dramatically. "Although I must admit that the blue stains actually added to my designer jeans."
Mercedes laughed lightly, "Anyway, feel better. We'll see you around." She smiled and the unlikely friends left the small room.
"It's great that they're there for you, Artie. Friends like that are hard to come by. Don't worry, I'll stay here until your parents come," Mr. Shue smiled, trying to be friendly.
Artie just shook his head and tried to sit up. Mr. Shue laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head lightly. Artie didn't fight his teacher's direction. "Really, Mr. Shue, that's not necessary. I can-"
He was interrupted by the door again. This time it was Quinn, her cheerleading friends, Finn and the football players from glee club. The small room seemed ready to burst from so many people. They barely looked in, all still laughing and talking loudly. "Hey, wheels," Quinn said with a smile. "Hope you feel better."
They left in a hurry, not even stopping their antics to really visit him. Artie shook his head, it was about as much as he could hope for. The room was finally silent for a long moment until the door squeaked open again. His head was bent, his mohawk clearly visable, but Artie noticed something was wrong the moment Puck looked up at him. His usually dark face was actually smiling. "Hey, Artie, my man," he said with a smile. "Heard you were under the weather." Puck walked over to Artie, smiling at Mr. Shue. He turned towards Artie, gave him a high five and leaned in close. "You mess with my girl, I'll mess you up worse than this," Puck hissed, a smile still on his face.
"What about Quinn, or Rachel?" Artie whispered back, having heard the rumors about Puck that were flying around the school.
"Nah, they're just for kicks," Puck smiled smugly, leaving any further explanation up to the imagination. "I've got something special in mind for your little girlfriend." Puck backed away, and gave a look at Mr. Shue. "Hope you feel better, Artie. Really, I do."
Puck kept that nasty smile on his face until he left the room, slamming the door behind him for good measure.
The bell rang for second period a few moments later. "Well, I guess nobody else is coming," Mr. Shue sighed, looking overwhelmed by the amount of visitors Artie had gotten.
"Yeah," Artie looked at the door longingly, realizing who had not come. "I guess not."
There was a deep silence until the door creaked open and she walked in, her black hair half hiding her face, her eyes on her books. "S-Sorry I c-c-couldn't c-c-come earlier, Artie." Tina looked up shyly, her eyes wide, her stutter worse than usual. "Mr. Gorgodian ke-kept us l-l-late again."
"It's OK," Artie smiled from where he laid. "I'm glad you came."
"I was s-s-so wo-worried about you when I heard," Tina shook her head. "L=L-Look, w-we need to t-talk. J-J-Just us. M-M-Meet me-me after g-glee club t-t-today, if you're u-up to it."
"Yeah, sure," Artie nodded his head vigorously. "Of course."
"G-Great, I'll s-s-see you." She smiled. "I-I-I hope you f-f-feel better." She backed off shyly, left with a nod to Mr. Shue and closed the door behind her.
Artie barely waited until the door was closed before turning to Mr. Shue. "Can't I get out of here now? I'm really fine," and this time he managed to sit up unhindered. His back was still hurting, but he felt a lot better.
"Sorry, Artie. We have to wait til your parents get here."
"But-" Artie started to object, but he was interrupted by the door and this time, in walked his parents. "Mom, I'm fine. Can't I just go back to class?"
His dad actually laughed. "I've never heard you ask that, so I'll take it as a good sign."
But his mother looked awful, her large eyes wet. "See, this is exactly why..." she shook her head, trailing off.
"What do you mean?" Artie demanded.
Mr. Abrams sighed. "Molly, do you mind if I talk to Artie for a minute?"
"Sure," she said, not moving an inch.
"Alone,"
"Oh, sure. Fine."
The nurse, Mr. Shue and Mrs. Abrams went out into the hall, no doubt to talk about Artie. Mr. Abrams shook his head. "Don't mind her. She's just worried about you."
"Is that really why she doesn't want me driving anywhere? Is that why she won't let me go to the homecoming dance?"
"You want to go to the dance?" His dad looked at him, surprised.
"Yeah." he said sheepishly. "It's a long story." Artie was somehow more determined than ever to prove himself to Tina.
"Well, if you want to go, I don't see why not. I'll talk to your mother."
"I just don't get it," Artie shook his head. "It's like she doesn't want me to grow up or something."
"Exactly," His father sighed, sitting in the chair next to Artie. "She still feels guilty about what happened to you in the accident. I think she's still trying to make it up to you by taking care of you."
"Isn't she gonna realize that I have to grow up eventually? I mean, it's pretty ridiculous that Mackenzie is getting to do things that I'm not allowed to do."
"I know, I know. I'll talk to her about it. But in the meantime, what is this I hear about the homecoming dance?" And as Artie told his father the whole story, he suddenly realized exactly how much he wanted to hear what Tina would tell him that afternoon.