A/N: Thank you, WildeAbrams and QuinnAbrams for the always helpful feedback! And I'm so glad QuinnAbrams gave me an idea that made Tina less of a jerk than my original plan.
"Thanks again for coming with me," she said, as Artie half-heartedly smiled back at her while they waited on the elevator in the hospital's lobby, to get to the gym for outpatient rehab that Friday.
Artie was trying not to let it show that something was bothering him. Earlier, at school, he'd learned something disturbing about Quinn and Joe, thanks to McKinley's self-proclaimed biggest gossips, Mercedes and Tina. And now he wished they'd just left him alone...
"Don't, Tina, it's not right," Mercedes had initially said, having followed Tina when she'd approached Artie after Glee club, in an apparent effort to stop her from talking to him. "It was girl talk. Artie doesn't need to hear it. Anyway, what were you doing, recording videos in the ladies' room in the first place?!"
"Say what?!" Now they had Artie's attention. Girls sure seemed to gather in the ladies room often, which baffled Artie. All of the guys he knew were in and out as quickly as possible, and conversation just wasn't allowed. And definitely no recording.
"I was doing a make up tutorial," Tina explained, as though this was a perfectly normal excuse to be filming in a public restroom. "I was going to take out the sound later and do a voice over with some tips for touching up your make up after lunch."
"Then why were you brushing your teeth?"
"Because, that's step one!" Tina rolled her eyes. "You always brush your teeth, to make sure you don't have food stuck in there, before you reapply your lipstick."
"She accidentally recorded Quinn saying something about Joe," Mercedes finally explained, filling him in. "I told her she should delete it, but she insists you should hear it."
"She sounds so sad and so not like herself at all," Tina said, trying to justify herself.
"Well, c'mon, let's hear it then." Now Artie wanted to know what was so bad that Mercedes didn't want Tina to share it.
They all looked around, making sure they were the last ones left in the hall. Tina pulled out her phone. She issued a warning before she pressed play.
"What she said may bother you a little..." Tina said, and Mercedes just shook her head.
"I don't care," had been his reply. "Play it."
"Quinn, when you sang 'Saving All My Love' yesterday with Joe, it sure felt like you meant it," Mercedes sang out teasingly, as all the girls gathered in the restroom.
"It seemed like you guys were a lot more than just singing partners!" Rachel chimed in.
"I don't know, Joe's really pretty but I heard she doesn't shave her armpits," Brittany added.
"Joe and I are just friends," Quinn said, her voice sounding cold. "Nothing else is gonna happen."
"But you want it to, don't you?" Tina affirmed.
"Doesn't matter what I want,"Quinn said, dejectedly. "I've said goodbye to that part of my life. Joe took me to rehab the other day, we had a moment, and before we kissed, he pulled away. Grossed out by me and my chair."
"Quinn, I'm so sorry..." Rachel started to say.
"I don't want to hear it," Quinn cut her off. "Joe's not into me. I don't blame him. Who would be?"
Tina had been right about the possibility of Artie being offended. Artie – who truly, honestly was hard to offend, though you wouldn't have known that lately – was horrified. If that was what Quinn really thought, about herself, then what did she actually think of him?
And now, a few hours later, he couldn't exactly fess up about what he knew without incriminating Tina. So he bottled his feelings up and tried (but failed) not to think about it as he accompanied Quinn to this important day of rehab.
The gym was sort of cramped, not like the nice one with the huge mirrors he remembered from his own in-patient rehab. Artie only went to therapy himself a few days a month, more for check-ups and maintenance than for anything else. He didn't come here, to the hospital. For the sake of convenience, they'd picked a smaller stand-alone rehab center near their home that he was going to recommend to Quinn one day, once she got to the maintenance phase herself.
"You're quiet," Quinn observed, as the elevator dinged, and he realized he hadn't said anything for the entire trip inside from the parking lot and then up to the third floor.
"Oh, yeah, sorry," he said, as the doors opened and he led the way out, Quinn pushing her own wheels behind him. "Just- just thinking. I'm excited about the possibility of seeing you stand today."
"I'm scared," she confessed. "My arms are a little sore today. Joe didn't go with me yesterday either but my sister did, and she's not nearly as helpful as he is."
I bet. But all Artie said was: "Why didn't Joe go with you yesterday?"
"Oh." Quinn dropped her eyes to her lap, clearly embarrassed to talk about something. "Well, it's... well nothing. Well, not nothing, exactly, but I don't think he wants to come with me anymore after Wednesday."
"What happened on Wednesday?" Artie wanted to know, realizing that must have been when the kiss happened.
But then she and Joe had gone on to sing their duet together on Thursday and he'd asked her to be his date to the Sugar Shack, so why was she so sure she'd blown it? Not that Artie was really rooting for them, but he was a fan of Quinn's happiness.
Before Quinn could answer him, their conversation was interrupted by Quinn's therapist, a young and athletic-looking blonde in scrubs, evidently someone new since the last time Artie had come along.
"Hiya, Quinn!" she said. "You didn't bring your dreadlocked friend today, I see. Who's this?"
"Oh, this is Artie," she said, brightly. "Artie's my expert friend I was telling you about. Artie, this is Piper. Piper, Artie."
"T12, complete, nine years," Artie added, as he reached up to shake her hand. "Before you ask."
"Ah, you know us therapists, always asking those nosy questions," Piper said. "Nice to meet you, Artie the Expert. Alright, Quinn, let's have you work on the machines first, let's concentrate on pushing with those arms to get ready for some parallel bars at the end of our session. I'm gonna go check on a few other patients, and I'll be back with you in fifteen minutes to get your legs stretched out."
All of the upper-body machines were set up so that Quinn could use them without transferring out of her wheelchair. Artie knew them well, given that all of his workouts consisted of upper body pushing or pulling.
Their conversation about Wednesday was forgotten, for the time being, as Artie focused on helping Quinn complete her exercises, adding weights for her when she asked.
"When the weather warms up a little, maybe I should take you around and try out some of the steeper ramps," Artie suggested. "Like the one behind the school library..."
"Ugh, that?" Quinn made a face. "I could never make it up that thing. Isn't it really meant for the custodians to take out the garbage?"
"It's meant for people, too," he assured her. "Trouble is, architects aren't necessarily wheelchair users themselves and don't realize how unforgiving that angle can be. Especially when you throw in snow and ice. It would have been much better if it wrapped around but they didn't consult me when they built it."
"I could never..." she said again.
"Sure you could," he insisted. "I thought so, too, when I first saw it, but you'll want to try it by the time it's warm enough for us to eat lunch outside. It's much faster to get inside that way after lunch. You don't have to fight the crowds. What? Did I say something wrong?"
Her expression had changed as he'd rambled on about his reasons for using that particular ramp.
"Not... exactly," Quinn said, her voice straining a bit as she completed a set of ten pulls against the weights. "I just... well, at one time, I thought I'd surely be out of this chair by the time the weather warmed up."
"I know, but now I get to have more fun with you," he teased, as she gave him a withering look and a laugh. "If you can lift this much, you can definitely get up that ramp after lunch when the time comes. C'mon, prove me right."
She laughed again. "You aren't going to leave me alone until I do it, are you?" she asked, as he vehemently shook his head. "Alright, fine, when it warms up and we start eating outside, I'll-I'll tackle the ramp of doom."
After she finished lifting, she wheeled herself over to the mat where she would need to complete the transfer herself from her chair to the raised mat, to do stretching exercises. The two surfaces were roughly the same height, making it a pretty simple transfer. Artie noticed Quinn glance warily in his direction as she prepared to move herself.
"What?" he asked, not sure why she was looking at him that way.
"It's kind of intimidating, you watching me try to do the thing you've been doing for nine years," she explained. "It's like trying to cook something with Martha Stuart hovering over you."
Artie cracked up. "Oh, so I'm the Martha Stuart of wheelchairs, am I?" She joined him in laughing. Laughter was the best medicine, of course. "Well, would you prefer it if I didn't watch?"
She nodded and he obliged by shutting his eyes. He waited a few minutes, then opened one eye to find her mid-way through and struggling. "Hey!"
"My bad, I thought you were done." Artie held up his hands and made a show of covering his eyes. He waited until she announced she was done and then looked again to see her sitting on the mat, her empty chair beside her.
"I guess I'll have to wait for Piper..." she looked over at her therapist, who was still with another patient for the time being.
"I suppose this is how Joe helped, huh?" Artie commented. "I really can't be of much help, since I can't stand over you. Sorry."
"It's fine," she said, laying back and stretching out, able to move her legs on her own enough to accomplish this much. "It's... probably better. It got kind of... awkward... with Joe."
Artie was sort of hoping she'd get around to telling him the story of whatever happened, so that he wouldn't have to wrestle with all the unanswered questions he'd had after he'd talked to Sam.
"How so?" Artie played it cool, like he knew nothing.
Quinn looked to see if Piper or anyone else was paying attention. She was turning red at the mere memory now, and she sort of covered her face as she explained.
"He was holding my leg in the air and pushing it back towards my body and sort of- sort of leaning his body against me. And I felt his, um, well, it seemed like he'd gotten kind of excited... unintentionally..."
"Oh, God." Artie had second-hand embarrassment now, just hearing her say it.
"He was pretty humiliated," Quinn said, shaking her head. "I've gotten most of my feeling back, so of course I noticed. And when he saw that I did, he jumped back and apologized and said that it was just because I was the nicest, prettiest, best-smelling girl he'd ever met."
"Best... smelling?"
"You can tell the guy's been homeschooled," Quinn remarked. "Anyway... it was sweet. I didn't expect anybody to–"
She stopped short then, but given that he'd heard her conversation with the other girls, Artie already knew what she wasn't saying.
"Wouldn't expect anyone to be interested in you right now because you're in a wheelchair," he concluded, just because it wasn't better left unsaid.
It was better to get this out in the open. He'd been struggling ever since he'd heard the private conversation he wasn't supposed to know about. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. For a moment, he thought she might cry. But she didn't. She opened her eyes and looked at him.
"I'm only talking about myself," she said, slowly, careful with her words. "Not... not you, Artie. That's not what I think."
"Well, it's what I think." She swallowed hard, her hazel eyes glistening as she lay on her back, head turned to the side, staring intently at him. "Off and on, it's what I think. Every now and then, someone special comes along. Changes my mind for a bit. But it's what I'll always think."
"Try not to," Quinn said, and Artie acknowledged that she realized it would always be a struggle, because she'd now been there too.
"I do try," Artie said. "Like I said, every now and then, someone special comes along. Like Tina... even Brittany... and definitely Mack. She was one of a kind. I don't think I'll end up alone. I mean, I like to think I've still got plenty to offer..."
"You do." Quinn's tears threatened to fall.
"Don't cry, they won't let me come back," Artie joked, and that worked, as Quinn laughed and wiped at her eyes.
"Okay, I won't cry..." Quinn trailed off. "And I'll try to change my mindset, too."
"Good." Artie didn't say much else, because Piper came over just then, and he wheeled a few paces back, letting the therapist work with Quinn while he checked out and scrolled through Facebook on his phone for awhile.
Sugar Shack, Tuesday night @ Breadstix! Couples only. Single people make Baby Cupid cry! Three more days to find your date! XOXO Sugar
Maybe he'd just skip it. He definitely wasn't going to sit at a table with Mike and Tina. Sam had just asked Mercedes to be his date earlier that day, meaning that Artie was now the only person in all of Glee club without a date. Even Mr. Schue had a date.
He had a picture on his phone that he'd taken with Mack at Homecoming. He didn't think he'd ever forget the moment when he, rejected by Sugar, was suddenly ambushed by the last person he'd ever expected to show interest in him. Someone– one of the other Skanks, Ronnie or Sheila– had grabbed his phone and had insisted on taking a picture. He was glad someone thought to do that, for now this was all he had. How he wished he could take her. Knowing Mack, she would have insisted that they skip it, and they would have wound up with fast food at an abandoned park or something, and it would have been so much better...
"Hey, Artie?" He jerked his head up to see that Quinn had somehow transferred again while he wasn't looking. Which must have been her goal. When she had his attention, she smiled. "I'm gonna go try to stand now."
"Staand up again, go on and stand, you're gonna run again!" Artie sang, in a perfect impression of the Warblers.
"Hey, that was really good!" Piper commented. "I couldn't sing on key to save my life. Kind of ironic that my name's Piper."
They all moved to the parallel bars where Quinn stopped her chair at one end and scooted forward, carefully placing her feet on the ground one at a time. Piper took her place in front of Quinn, sitting on a small rolling stool. Artie started to pull out his phone to record her, but Quinn stopped him.
"Don't," she said. "Not yet anyway. Right now, this is just for me. I'll share it with others later but... just not yet."
"Okay," Artie agreed, putting his phone away. He'd never wanted an audience for this type of thing either. He was reminded briefly of the ReWalk and how embarrassing that had gotten, once the novelty of the experience wore off.
Quinn took a deep breath as she pushed up with her arms, straining a bit, but not nearly as much as she would have without all the weight training. And certainly, her background as a cheerleader and her experience lifting girls into the air didn't hurt either.
"You're up!" Artie praised her. She was mostly using her arms to support her body weight, but as he knew from experience, you couldn't do that for very long. Her legs were definitely supporting some of her weight, too.
"I'm... up..." she struggled to say.
"Great, now shift your weight and rock your hip and take a little step with your right foot," Piper urged her, catching them both by surprise.
"Wh-what?" Quinn stammered. "Like walk?"
"Just a step, but yeah," Piper said. "It's okay, I've got you. Give it a try."
Artie swallowed hard, gripping his knees tightly with his gloved hands and leaning forward, staring as Quinn obeyed her therapist, shifting her hip with obvious effort, and taking a very stiff step forward.
"Nailed it!" Artie threw his hands up and gave a loud whoop, startling several other people in the gym and causing heads to turn their ways.
With scattered applause urging her on, Quinn shifted the other hip and took a second, very stiff and effortful step. As she breathed out, she wobbled, but an assistant was right there with her wheelchair to place the seat beneath her as she collapsed, her face bright red with beads of sweat forming at her hairline.
"That was the coolest thing I've ever seen," Artie said, wheeling forward as the assistant quickly handed her a towel and some water. As Quinn recovered, she dared to peek at Artie.
"I didn't know I was gonna walk today," she affirmed, closing her eyes and laughing now. "I guess it's a good thing, or else I would have psyched myself out completely!"
"Guess so," Artie smiled at her, taking the towel from her lap and dabbing her forehead for her. "I'm glad I got to see you do that first, Q. Thanks for letting me be here."
"Thank you for being here." She held his gaze for a long time, before they found their way into an clumsy hug. "I couldn't have done it without you."
On Tuesday night, the citizens of Lima had to find another place to go for their Valentine's Day date night. The most popular restaurant in the city was rented out for a private party and rebranded The Sugar Shack. They'd even decked out the front of the restaurant with a red carpet. Everyone had to wait behind the ropes so that Sugar could make her big entrance.
Sugar arrived in a pink limousine and waved to an adoring crowd of fans that consisted of everyone at school who had managed to find a date. Sure enough, Sugar had her security detail confirming that no one who entered came alone. Noah Puckerman brought three girls from a local sorority, and even this was allowed.
In fact, it was Puck who had given Artie the idea...
"Are you here with a date?" Sugar asked, specifically approaching Artie herself, as she dragged Rory along with her. "Because you know the rule, Artie, you have to have a date or you can't stay. Even for people in wheelchairs. It's not discrimination, it's just the rule. Sorry, Asperger's."
"Oh, I have a date," Artie said, turning and waving them over. "Two, actually."
"Two?"
"That's okay, isn't it?" Artie asked, innocently. "You let Puck bring three..."
"Better be okay," added Shelia, who approached and cracked her knuckles.
"Yeah," added Ronnie, who stumbled in her heels but looked just as menacing.
"Oh!" Sugar just looked like she was, for once, at a loss for words. Momentarily stumped, she just nodded and had her security detail stamp each of their hands, as Artie removed his glove and smiled back up at his two "dates."
"Thanks for bringing us to the party," Shelia said, as their trio entered the crowded room. "I always come here on my birthday and leave with a purse full of free breadsticks."
"Santana Lopez said she brought a wheelbarrow and, when they tried to stop her, she asked for the manager," Artie informed them. He caught Puck's eye, as Puck gave him an impressed nod and a thumbs-up from across the room.
"Always kinda liked that girl," Ronnie commented. "If she wasn't a Cheerio, I'd let her hang with us. Hey, and speaking of former Cheerios turned Skanks, look who it is!"
Quinn was cracking up at her table with Joe when she saw who Artie had brought as his "dates." She waved them over.
Come sit with us!" she called out, as the other three obliged, with Shelia moving a chair out of the way for Artie. Joe looked a little scared as he made room for the older girls at their table.
"Never in my wildest dreams did I see this coming," Quinn remarked, eyeing Artie up and down, and she was probably also talking about his outfit. He'd dug out his ripped jeans and black shirt that he'd gotten when he was dating Mack.
After a brief struggle with himself, he'd decided to privately dedicate the evening to Mack. That's what he'd told Sheila and Ronnie, when he'd asked them to be his dates. Plus, he said, they'd get a free meal at Breadstix. Who could turn down an offer like that?
Blaine appeared at the back of the room and launched straight into "Love Shack" as the crowd went wild. Eventually, the song ended with a conga line around the restaurant that included everyone except for Quinn and Artie.
She gazed across the table and their eyes met, and he knew what she was thinking. Because he was thinking it, too. Sometimes, it was nice not to be the only one.