A/N: I really wanted more interaction between Quinn and Artier after the accident. I always felt they could have explored so much of Artie's back story with it as well as propelling Quinn's forward. I hope I have done this interaction justice. Please review and let me know. Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters. Glee is property of its creators and FOX.

Ch. 11

He hadn't been here yet. He knew everyone else had been by at least once more like twice. He hadn't not since Quinn had been awake. When she was in her coma, he'd come just like the rest, but once word had spread that Quinn Fabray had beaten the odds again, that she had woken up on her own, well he couldn't go, it hadn't been the time.

That all changed when he heard that she was getting her wheelchair today. After the collapsed lung set back two weeks ago, her date for getting the chair had been pushed back, but physical and respiratory therapy were going well, and Quinn had been able to sit in the hospital wheelchair for a straight half hour. Her leg cast was off now, so there was no reason for Quinn not to get her wheelchair, to begin the long and painful process of learning how to function in life from two wheels.

Santana had been the one to tell them all. Instantly Rachel suggested they all go to the hospital to be there for Quinn when she first got into the chair. He'd vehemently opposed the idea instantly.

"Why the hell not Artie? Quinn needs her friends right now. This is big." Santana glared at her.

"It is a big deal, huge and that is why you can't be there."

"Judy is at work, Quinn needs someone with her." Puck retorted.

"She does, but it can't be any of you. I'll go." Artie offered. He knew they wouldn't understand his reasons, but he had to make them trust him, to know he had Quinn's best interest at heart.

"You haven't even seen her yet." Mercedes reminded everyone. "Why should it be you who is there when she gets in the chair? She should be with someone who loves her, who gets her, who can tell her that her wheelchair is not a trap but a tool to give her back her freedom."

"And that is exactly why none of you shouldn't be there. I get it normally you Mercedes, and Puck, Santana, and Brittany know Quinn better than anyone, but this is different. No matter how much you want to, neither one of you understands what she is thinking and going through better than me."

Santana glared at him and bent down towards him, "What you think because you're in that chair you instantly know Quinn better than us? The people who have been there for her through everything, the people who have been her shoulder to cry on?"

Artie pushed down his own anger over Santana's wheelchair remark. He knew she was hurting, just as his sister had when he was in his accident. "No, I didn't say that, I said that you won't understand her in that moment as she gets into that wheelchair. Mercedes even said she'd tell Quinn that the chair gives her freedom that it isn't a trap. Well she'd be wrong." Artie shook his head, "No matter how you look at it, spin it, that wheelchair condemns Quinn for the rest of her life. Freedom as she once knew it will officially never exist again. You can't know that feeling, but I do. Let me be the one to be there in that moment for her. Let me be the one she yells at, let me be the one who sits in silence with her as she comes to grips with her new world. Than when I have done my job, you can come back in and build her back up, support her through all her therapy. But in that moment, that crucial pivotal instance where her life becomes something she never imaged let the one person who can just know with out words sit with her."

No one made a sound for seconds, then finally Puck knelt in front of Artie and smiled at him like Artie had never seen before. Artie could feel the respect that Puck now had for him. "Just let her know we love her."

"I will."

He rolled into her room after knocking briefly, she was sat straight up her hair a bedhead mess. When her gaze landed on her she smiled at him, "I'm glad its you."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else today." He admitted as he pulled up next to her.

"They'll be here with it soon."

He didn't acknowledge her words, he had to make sure she knew why this was his first trip to see her. "I'm sorry I haven't been by before, but…"

"You knew you'd be the last person I would want to see." She reached down took his hand. "Thank you for giving me my space. Though you are always welcome, I think it might have been too hard to see you until now."

Artie was so relieved, Quinn understood. She was thankful. He shouldn't be surprised, Quinn had always been insightful, as much as she tried to hide it.

"What's it like?" she asked quietly

He shrugged, "It's different for everyone. Those who have never known the sensation of pushing off the earth with all your might in a sprint, or to tiptoes across cold wooden floors to sneak a midnight snack, or to hop from one bare foot to another on hot asphalt as you chase your friend with a water gun, say it's a longing to know what they know not. Curiosity if you will. For those of us who have cut a foot on shells at the beach, who've squished our toes in mud, or kicked a ball so hard it clears everyone's heads, it is an absence. There is a hole that has suddenly come into existence that which can never be filled."

"I know holes." He supposed she did, he guessed their was no hole greater than the loss of your child, your soul.

It was then that the Frank came in. Before him was a chair not unlike Artie's, it was light blue it's wheels set slightly wider than his own. The cushion looked comfortable, but Artie wouldn't know nor would Quinn. Frank noted Artie and nodded. Artie had known Frank for a few years now. Though he'd never get the function of his legs back, he still attended physical therapy once a week to keep his blood flowing in his legs.

"Arts what's up man?"

"Nothing just thought I'd come show Quinn how it was done." Artie smirked at Quinn who rolled her eyes.

"Great you two are friends, I am doomed."

"Nah, we like you so you're cool." Frank motioned Artie to move away from the bed. Than he parked it next to Quinn's bed. "Alright Quinn are you ready?"

Quinn eyed the chair for a long minute before sighing, "Yes."

"Alright. Now I am going to lift you in this time, but next week when you are stronger I will start to teach you how to transfer from the bed to the wheelchair and from wheelchair back."

"Sure." Her voice was glum and solemn, not unlike she had sounded after Beth was born.

Frank gently slid his one arm under Quinn's lifeless legs and the other behind her back. She looped her arms around his neck. With ease and grace of a practiced professional Frank slid Quinn from bed to wheelchair. Artie watched as her eyes squeezed tight as her back hit the chair. Frank stood and squeezed her shoulder before stepping back. He leaned down and whispered into Artie's ear, "Call me if she has trouble. Giver her time to adjust."

"yeah." Frank left and Artie just sat. He waited, waited for Quinn to work through all the feelings and emotions coursing through her like the blood that kept her alive. He waited for the rage, grief, depression, and loss to settle. He waited as his friend discovered what it truly meant to be him.

The sun sunk from just above the trees outside the window to just below by the time Quinn spoke. "I'm so sorry Artie."

He wheeled to her and used his left index finger to lift her downcast chin. "Quinn, look at me." She complied. "I am only going to say this once, never apologize to me not for this. What you are feeling now, its something I hoped you nor any of my friends would ever feel. It is a feeling that I pray will eventually be a distant memory to you. I do not begrudge those who do not know, because I am glad they don't. You can't apologize for something you don't know."

A tear trickled down her ivory cheeks. "I feel so lost."

"I know."

They sat in silence again until the horizon was no longer painted with God's watercolors. Frank came in and looked at Quinn who just nodded. Swiftly and reverently he laid her back in bed. He left with no words. Frank was great, he always knew when there was nothing to be said.

"I'll be back tomorrow." Artie said as he followed Frank out.

"Thank you," was her only reply, but a small smile played at her lips. Today he'd let her soak in the truth that was now her life, tomorrow he'd push her, tomorrow he'd help her start the process that would hopefully lead her out of the light blue chair that sat at home beside her bed. Artie would be damned to let Quinn Fabray be like him, if there was a chance that she could leave her chair with Artie forever, than he'd help her ever step of the way.

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