A/N: Thanks again to QuinnAbrams for more contributionsto this scene!
Amy once shared what it was like for her when she'd traveled from Lima to Dayton with her dad, after they'd gotten the news of Artie's accident. She'd described to Artie how she felt on the way to hospital, not knowing if they'd find him dead or alive when they got there. He'd heard her story, but never had he expected to be on the other side of the same scene.
Blaine drove a badly-shaken Artie and Rachel to the hospital, because they'd all three been together when Artie got the call from Quinn's sister. Artie called his family on the way, and they headed in the same direction to meet them there.
They arrived with just about every single person from the show in tow, stage make-up badly smeared, some still wearing pieces of their costumes, causing a big scene at the hospital. In fact, Sugar, Rory, and Joe were the only ones missing from the scene, just because those three didn't know Quinn.
But Artie looked from the enormous group gathering around Frannie and Judy Fabray to a much smaller group, huddled in the corner, tearfully surrounding an older lady, who was sobbing loudly. The group consisted of several kids and teens of various races, who didn't look like they belonged to any particular family. As he approached this group instead of Quinn's, he got a heavy feeling in his stomach. Someone looked over at him. He locked eyes with a black teenaged boy who just seemed to know what Artie was there to ask without him asking. As the black boy shook his head and dropped his gaze, Artie took in what this gesture was telling him. He couldn't move, couldn't even breathe, as he came to the full understanding.
Just like that, the girl who colored the butterflies with his box of sixty-four crayons was gone. Artie only thought he understood how much life could change in the blink of an eye. Turned out, he had no idea.
He could do nothing but return to the crowd around Quinn's mother in silence. He'd missed part of the story, so coming in on the tail end of it, he just got the last part. He registered the fact that there had been a brief but heavy rainstorm that evening, as Judy spoke solemnly to the group, detailing the events of the accident.
"Her friend was driving. She swerved to miss something, is what a witness told us, and veered off into a tree. Quinn's in surgery now. It looks like she broke several ribs and possibly her spine, but we-we won't know more than that until after..."
"So, Quinn wasn't the one driving?" Rachel confirmed. "Oh, my god, well that's a relief. She texted me earlier to say they were on their way. The first thing I thought of was that she might have been texting and driving. That I might have c-caused it. Was her friend drunk or something?"
"Mackenzie." Several pairs of eyes turned to Artie as he interrupted the story. Artie didn't even register the fact that he'd said her name aloud. "Her name was Mackenzie." He glared at Rachel, who never seemed to think before saying something awful. "Why would you assume she was drunk? It was raining really, really hard. Couldn't it have just been an accident?"
"Artie, I-I'm sorry," Rachel said, looking right and left as she shrank down in her seat. "I forgot she was your… what-what happened to her?"
Artie couldn't form the words. With a hard swallow, he just dropped his gaze and shook his head. He became aware of Tina, enveloping him from above, leaning over his chair to do so.
When he finally raised his head, he saw that Quinn's mother was staring long and hard in his direction, looking him up and down. Artie could see the thought that formed as her eyes took in his chair. She had to look away, as though the sight of him coupled with the thought of her daughter in the same condition, was too much.
A quick survey of the crowd revealed that they were all thinking the same thing. Artie couldn't believe that no one was even going to say something else about the person who had just died.
He was just as concerned for Quinn as the rest, but maybe he had a different perspective. Being alive after something like this, having breath in your body, it all counted for something. They shouldn't act like she was the one whose life just ended.
Knowing he had to get out from under their hard stares, he did a hard pivot and wheeled his way towards the automatic doors, which opened in time for him to nearly bowl over two unsuspecting people entering the ER. He muttered an apology as he rolled out into the light rain that was beginning to pick up again, a reminder of the unspeakable horror of that evening.
Artie pulled to the side of the automatic doors before setting his brakes. He was still under the awning with the neon "EMERGENCY ROOM" emblazoned above, careful not to let himself get wet from the rain. The late October temperatures provided him with just the fresh air he needed to clear his head.
He hadn't even known Mack that well. Not really, anyways. That was the beauty of their relationship – it was simple. She was attracted to him, and him, to her. That was that. He always assumed that he'd have more time to spend really getting to know her, but that wasn't the case. He was still so in shock as to how a life could end that fast that he didn't know what to do besides stare down at his hands folded in his lap. He was numb.
"Kid?" A familiar voice said from above, causing Artie to look up and see Shelia and Ronnie approaching him from the parking lot. Someone else must have texted them and told them what happened, because it hadn't been him. He'd been too shaken up to do anything other than get into Blaine's car.
"We came as soon as we heard. What happened? How are they?" Shelia asked, her voice scratchy from all of the cigarettes, but not nearly as rough or intimidating as it usually was. The only thing present in her voice now was concern.
"They, um, they were driving to the school. Um, to see my show. And it was raining really hard and Mack swerved and they, um… they hit a tree," Artie tried his best to explain, with his mind all over the place. "Quinn's in surgery, but Mack…" He bit down hard on his lip as he tried to find the words. "Mackenzie didn't make it."
He averted his eyes and looked away before he had to see the realization of what he had just said set in on the two girls. A silence fell over the three of them for a few moments as Artie once again looked down at his new bought-that-way ripped black jeans. What had started as a fun change in his style had now turned into a cruel reminder of everything that had been lost in only a day. And now he hated looking at the stupid holes in his stupid jeans.
"We're gonna… we're gonna go inside and wait to hear about Quinn," Ronnie said a minute later to break the silence, her voice cracking in the process.
Artie nodded, still avoiding their eyes as they left.
In his current state, Artie had no awareness of the passage of time, but he couldn't have been alone for more than a few minutes before he saw his parents and sister hurrying towards him through the drizzle of rain.
"Oh, sweetie," his mother said upon seeing his face, bending down and enveloping him in a big hug. He had managed to hold it together surprisingly well until that moment, but an embrace from his mother was all he needed to break down in tears. Artie had the tendency to bottle up all of his emotions, afraid to let anyone see what he was feeling on the inside, but just then, he'd reached a breaking point.
"Mackenzie's gone," Artie managed to choke out as his shoulders shook as he sobbed. "And Quinn's hurt. Her mom said it m-might be her spinal cord. She's in surgery now."
He felt his mother tense up at that, but a second later she had returned to rubbing calming circles on Artie's back. His father, a man of very few words, had put a strong hand on Artie's shoulder by then too, his silent way of showing support.
Amy hung back, presumably out of the shock of what Artie had just told them, but also waiting her turn and allowing their parents to do the majority of the comforting.
Artie's sobs turned to sniffles eventually, and when they did, Nancy straightened herself up, still holding her son's hand. "It's getting chilly out here, Artie. Why don't we go inside?"
Artie stubbornly shook his head. "I can't go back in there. I can't."
He couldn't stand to see people pouring in to support Quinn while, at the same time, a tiny huddle of people gathered for Mack. Not that he wasn't concerned for Quinn. He, of all people, knew all the reasons why they ought to be concerned.
"I'll stay out here with him," Amy assured their parents, speaking up just then.
"Alright, well, your father and I are going to sit with Judy and Frannie in the waiting room," Nancy told her children, catching sight of Quinn's distraught mother and sister through the window. Artie nodded, knowing that they were the only two suited for that job.
He also knew that his parents – his mother, especially – weren't the biggest fans of Quinn's family, after the way that they'd abandoned Quinn during her pregnancy. The Abrams family saw Quinn as their second daughter by now and had naturally become very protective of her. However, they also knew all too well the turmoil that Judy and Frannie were feeling at this moment and knew just the right things to say to comfort them.
As his parents disappeared inside, Amy took a seat on a bench that was beside where Artie had parked himself earlier. He unlocked his wheels and pivoted slightly to face her before locking them again.
She looked at him for a brief moment, before offering him a hug of her own. His sniffles became tears once again, as he wondered how on Earth something like this could have happened to girls like Mack and Quinn.
Out of the two of them, his sister was the crier. She always had been. But right now she wasn't. He knew she wanted to. She still thought of Quinn as somewhat of a sister, and she'd lived through this nightmare in the waiting room after a car wreck before. Artie knew that Amy wanted to cry but was remaining strong for him.
"It was my show that they were on the way to," Artie said. "I was the one who invited them and insisted that they come. I even comped their tickets. Quinn hasn't talked to most of our friends in months, yet she was coming to watch them perform because I asked her to. It's my fault that this happened. If I hadn't wanted her to see all that she was missing out on this year, this never would have happened to them!"
He was doing that thing where he gripped his thighs with such a force that his fingernails were digging into his skin. Amy saw this, and took his gloved hands in her own to keep him from hurting himself. "Artie. Artie, stop, you're going to hurt yourself. Look at me. This is not your fault. Nobody knows these things are gonna happen. Just like Mom had no idea you both were gonna be hit on the way to your tournament. You never know when you'll be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Nobody in there even cares about Mack," Artie exploded, finally confessing the other reason why he couldn't go back in, removing his glasses to wipe his eyes with the cuff of his shirt. "They didn't care enough to get to know her when she was alive, and now they don't even care that she just died."
Amy didn't say anything to that, instead still staying quiet and letting him continue to get his feelings out.
"And the second that Quinn's mom mentioned that her spine may have been injured, everybody- her mom, her sister, the rest of them- they looked at me all sad. Is that how everyone sees me? Like I live a sad life? Because of my chair?"
"No, Artie, of course not," Amy assured him, squeezing his hand tighter. "Nobody thinks that. Because it's not true. You're living proof that you can live a very full life after an SCI. If Quinn does have one, you know better than anyone that it's not the end of the world."
Amy took a deep breath before continuing. "Quinn… She's strong. She'll get through this, Artie, you and I both know that. And you'll be able to be by her side every bit of the way. She'll have somebody who understands what she's going through."
Artie glanced up at her solemnly. At this point, he wasn't sure if Amy was trying to comfort him or herself, but he nodded anyway. She was right after all. If you had asked Artie just this morning, he would have told you that his life was as full as it had ever been. The man he was today was equal parts because of and in spite of his disability. If Quinn's spinal cord had been compromised in this accident, he could be the kind of person for her that someone like Javier, his physical therapist, was for him while he was enduring his own recovery.
"And Artie?" Amy said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry that I never got the chance to meet Mackenzie. From what you've told me about her, she seemed like a really great girl."
Artie twisted his mouth to the side and frowned as reality came crashing onto him again. His lower lip trembled as he met his sister's eyes.
"She was."
"Artie?" They both looked up – way up – at the sudden appearance of Finn. He gave a nod to acknowledge Amy. "Everyone's worried about you, dude. Some of us are spending the night at me and Kurt's place, just because it's closest to the hospital, so we can check on Quinn in the morning before we do the matinee. I didn't know if you wanted to..."
Artie slowly shook his head. "Thanks, but I can't really pile onto a couch or something. I need an accessible bathroom. I... sorry." As he spoke, he was reminded of something else. Oh, shit, the show! They still had their second and final performance – the Saturday matinee. The auditorium had already been booked for a band competition that would start an hour after their show ended, meaning they'd have to make a mad dash to strike the stage
"No need to apologize," Finn said, noting Artie's sudden look of panic. "What is it?"
"The show..." was all he said. He glanced over his shoulder, spotting his mother talking intently to Frannie and Judy, then turned back to Finn. He didn't say anything more, but Finn gathered that he was asking how they could possibly perform a show with everything that had happened.
Finn shrugged before delivering his famous quote, something he knew was wrong by now but also knew that it never failed to make someone else smile. "The show must go... all over the place, or something."
...
Everyone who slept over at Finn and Kurt's visited first thing in the morning. Quinn was still sleeping, heavily sedated with no news on her condition. Tina updated Artie about all things concerning Quinn via text. Quinn would be having an MRI sometime that day to confirm suspicions that her spinal cord had sustained some sort of damage in the crash.
Artie felt guilty not being there, though it wasn't like she knew. He did hope to be there when she woke up. That was why he waited until after the show.
Somehow, the show did go on, and it didn't go all over the place. It wasn't going to be as good as opening night – there was a certain heaviness in the air, on account of Quinn, and backstage, you could feel it. Blaine was as professional as always, but Rachel was a complete wreck. Ultimately, Mercedes did take her place, in a last minute swap that Artie never thought Rachel would agree to.
Artie mustered all his courage to make a brief announcement before the show. The second performance, he informed the audience, was dedicated to their friends, Mackenzie and Quinn. He didn't know if anyone in the audience even knew Mackenzie (especially referred to by her full name) but of course everyone knew Quinn Fabray.
As soon as it ended, Artie wanted to get out of there as fast as he could. But of course there was the task of striking the stage to take care of. Although, he knew he wasn't much help physically, it was his job to see to it that the job was done and done well. Otherwise, there might not be any future shows. Of all people, Puck seemed to read his mind.
"Go," he said. "I know you want to be the first to break the news to her about Mack, if she's awake. I'll make sure we get all this crap off-stage in time for whatever was so important that we couldn't have one more show tonight."
It felt good to smile at something, and Puck succeeded in bringing a small smile to Artie's face over his passionate defense of their show.
He texted Amy, since she'd been his ride to the show and had helped them with all the preparations for the matinee, knowing that Artie needed all the support he could get. She picked him up right outside by the side door with the steepest ramp. As he coasted down, she jumped out and expedited his transfer by helping, something she only did when they were in a hurry.
"What's so urgent?" he asked, after she'd gotten him settled and was already in the process of dismantling his chair for him.
"I got Frannie's number and told her to text me if Quinn woke up," she said. "She texted me as you guys were doing curtain call. She's groggy but she's talking. When she woke up, they were able to go ahead and take out the breathing tube."
Artie gave an involuntary shutter. One of his first memories of waking up after his accident involved the tube down his throat, which preventing him from talking. Exactly how long, he wasn't sure, as it was all a blur, especially now. The earliest part of his recovery had been focused on being able to breathe again, thanks to his collapsed lung. It had taken him awhile to even acknowledge the lack of feeling below his waist.
"Is this bringing back some unpleasant memories?" Amy asked, as she settled herself behind the wheel, giving him a sidelong glance.
But Artie just shook his head. "No," he lied. "This isn't about me, I don't want to make it about me. Just drive. Please."