AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Thank you so much to everyone who came out to review the last chapter! Hearing what you think means so much to me. I received some requests for another physical therapy chapter like the one I wrote for "All in the Family" which features more of therapist Kyle. I have come to deliver! As always, if you have any ideas for me or this story, feel free to send them my way. I always do my best to incorporate them!

Chapter 34: Talk Therapy

ARTIE

After a few days of locking himself in his bedroom with the lights off and the shades drawn, Artie finally felt like he was making some good progress on editing Hollywood Hootenanny (what had once been a working title had wound up sticking, and he was rolling with it). Now, however, Artie felt like some sort of nocturnal cat or vampire– when met with the light of day, he felt like hissing or shriveling up and turning to dust. Artie knew that the sole outing he had planned for Thursday afternoon would be good for him, but that didn't mean he had to be excited about it. Absolutely not. He'd much rather get back to meticulously editing Tina and Mike's dance sequence than attend his second physical therapy session of the week, that was for sure.

The thing about PT was that it consisted of pretty much the same thing every time, which Artie had different feelings about depending on the day. On one hand, he didn't mind all that much. It was nice to have a routine and to get to know what happened next. But other times he wished there was more of a variety. After years of repeating these same exercises week after week, it had gotten old long ago. The latter was probably the reason why he didn't see the fault in canceling his appointments sometimes or skipping a week here and there. It wasn't like there was any real progress being made, he often thought to himself. He was not about to skip into the choir room anytime soon.

All along, though, he knew these negative thoughts weren't fair. He didn't think of himself as a particularly pessimistic person! Therapy just brought out the worst in him. It was hard to get motivated and excited about something when, week after week, he didn't see any visible reward. Artie was far from a patient patient, and he felt like he could be allocating all of the time he spent here to something more productive. Like getting back to the post-production process of his movie.

That's what Artie was thinking about as he made his way through the parking lot from his car. If he hadn't been so distracted, he may have realized a moment sooner that his KAFO braces were slipping off of his lap. But, since he was deep in thought, Artie didn't notice until they were already laid out on the crosswalk in front of him, causing him to quickly pull back on his wheels to prevent himself from running them over.

"Dammit," Artie said under his breath. After taking a moment to glance around the parking lot to make sure that he wouldn't be run over, Artie leaned over and tried his best to pick them up himself, but, frustratingly, they were just out of his immediate reach. Between his bad mood and this, things just kept going poorly for him. When it rains, it pours, and today was just one of those days.

"Here, let me get those for you, buddy."

Artie didn't even have to turn around to know who was coming to his aid, and he was prepared to fire off a snarky comment.

"Gee, thanks, what ever would I do without you as my knight in shining armor?" said Artie sarcastically, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"Well, first off, you may have gone splat on the pavement," Kyle said, effortlessly stooping down to pick up Artie's leg braces. "That wouldn't have been good."

Kyle was tall with long blonde hair and naturally looked like he spent his days on a beach in Los Angeles and not at a physical therapy clinic in Ohio. He kind of looked like what Artie imagined that Sam would look like with his hair grown out (Artie made a note to mention to Sam that maybe rocking the bro-nytail look would be a good look to try out during senior year).

In addition to being Artie's therapist, he was also a connoisseur of lame jokes. Artie rolled his eyes, unamused by Kyle's attempt to get a smile out of him.

"Alright, that was kind of mean, but I'm gonna look past it," Kyle said, tucking the braces under his arm, showing that he intended to do Artie a solid by carrying them the rest of the way inside, which only worsened his mood. "I take it that Pissy Artie has come to work out today? That's okay, I can handle him."

Kyle didn't take any crap from Artie, so sometimes he felt more like a second cool older brother than he did a therapist. Well, only when he wasn't nagging Artie about one thing or another, which was not often. It seemed– at least to Artie– that Kyle was always bugging him about something (which, on second thought, did remind Artie of one of his brothers…).

"Oh, you know me, just thrilled to be back here again," Artie said dryly. "Second time this week, lucky me."

"Lucky you is right," Kyle replied, having none of Artie's attitude as he held open the door to the office for him to wheel through. "We're gonna make you sweat. One hour, on the clock. Think you can give me your all for sixty minutes, Abrams?"

Artie sighed. Knowing that Kyle wouldn't relent, he mustered a half-hearted shrug. "I guess so."

"That's my man," Kyle said, clapping him on the shoulder before leading him over to their designated corner of the gym, where they'd spent most of their time together since Artie was eight years old. "Let's get down to business."

Artie transferred from his chair onto the PT table and let Kyle manipulate and stretch his legs to get his muscles all warmed up for what lay ahead of him in today's session.

When he'd been here on Monday, Kyle had warned him that they'd start with some conditioning exercises on Thursday. Artie relished every bit of strength he had, reminding himself that every ounce of muscle he gained would go on to make his life a little bit easier. Even though it was hard, exhausting, and repetitive work, Artie knew that all of this was necessary to maintain the independence that he had once fought so hard for.

Artie, however, was not thrilled when Kyle suggested that they focus on working and testing his hip and ab control by doing one of Artie's least favorite exercises: kneeling.

Artie hated kneeling. Something that used to be so simple– usually mastered during toddlerhood– had become something that he couldn't do without copious amounts of assistance. It wasn't like he found himself regularly wishing he could kneel, it was just frustrating whenever he was reminded of how much effort an action like that now required.

And then, there were the precautions he had to take– a yoga mat under his knees, a rolled-up towel between his ankles, a cushion ready for him to sit back on– all to make sure that the hard surface didn't do any damage to his lower extremities. Some days, Artie's muscles held it together and did as they were supposed to. But other days, he'd be unable to find his center of balance and find himself relying heavily on his physical therapist to stabilize him in this tricky position. Bad coordination days always made for Artie's worst moods.

"So, how's the chick?" Kyle asked, using his strong arms to right Artie when he'd started to lean too far to the left. That was his idea of a 'smooth' segue into the next conversation once he'd noticed Artie's patience wearing thin, hoping not to put him in an even worse mood than he'd been in when he'd arrived. "Have you spent all of your time since I've last seen you making out and whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears?"

Artie knew that Kyle was joking, but the comment still bothered him. He'd hardly even seen Quinn this week– something he felt very guilty about.

"No," Artie said, attempting to glance anywhere but at Kyle's face, which was only about a foot or so away from his. "I've been busy with this short film I've spent the last couple of weeks making, and dealing with some drama surrounding my step-brother. Quinn and I haven't seen each other. Which, of course, I feel super guilty about. She's about to leave for college in a month, and we're going to have to make the decision every doomed high school couple is faced with about whether or not we are strong enough to survive long distance. How can I expect her to make time for me while she's away at college halfway across the country when I couldn't even make time for her this week when we live in the same town?"

Artie didn't know what he was expecting from Kyle after sharing with him all that he had been internalizing this week. Some advice? Some sympathy? Maybe a little of both?

"You're still a kid, Art," was what Kyle told him, which caused Artie to frown. "You've got all the time in the world to figure stuff like this out. We're not supposed to find our soulmates in high school. And, you know what? Maybe Quinn's not the one for you after all."

"Wow, thanks for having so much faith in my relationship, it really means a lot," Artie said sarcastically.

"I'm just saying that you're young! If this Quinn girl's not the one for you, then that's okay. There will be plenty of others. Be patient."

Artie rolled his eyes. He wasn't a little kid anymore, and he was sick of people acting like he was. He'd been an adult for months now, when were people going to start treating him like it? Was it always going to feel like this? People treating him like he'd never really grown up? It was demeaning. He didn't need to be handled with little kid gloves. He could fend for himself just fine.

"Well, what if there aren't others?" Artie asked, his voice coming off whinier than he intended for it to be. "I mean, I don't see many girls begging to get a taste of Artie Abrams, do you?"

"Quit worrying about this kind of stuff so much, okay? You're gonna make yourself sick. You're still a teenager. You've barely lived. There will be girls lining up for you someday. You know how I know? Because like I always say, chicks dig the chair."

Kyle had told him that enough times over the years for the phrase to have lost all its meaning. Artie didn't want 'chicks' to 'dig the chair'. He wanted the girl he was with to see the chair and accept it, but be able to look past it to see him for who he really was. And that is exactly what he'd always loved about Quinn. She saw him.

Artie rolled his eyes again before turning the conversation around on him. "Well, what about you? You're pushing forty. No wife, no kids… You're telling me that ladies aren't lining up for you?"

Kyle let out a surprised laugh at the bluntness of Artie's question.

"I think I'm more of a fun uncle type," Kyle quipped, using the excuse he'd cashed in on more than one occasion. "And, anyways, you're like my kid, and I have my hands full enough as it is, where you're concerned."

"I'm eighteen," Artie finally said, exasperated by this conversation. "I'm hardly a little kid anymore."

Kyle scoffed and laughed at Artie's expense.

"What?"

"You're just not acting like one, is all."

Artie rolled his eyes again, which he guessed, only proved Kyle's point. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Instead of answering him, Kyle just gave Artie's side a few light taps, as if he was trying to wake up the muscles he wanted Artie to utilize. "Squeeze your core, tighten up. You're all over the place today."

"I'm trying," Artie grumbled, straightening up and focusing on engaging the muscles he could be in control of. "But, hold on, back up. Really? I don't act like an adult?"

"Adults know what's best for them and take care of themselves, even if it's not their favorite thing to do," Kyle said simply, unbothered by the expression Artie was wearing on his face. "You know, putting their health first, prioritizing the longevity of their bodies…"

"Alright, I may not be in here every single day, but I'm not doing drugs or guzzling bottles of alcohol. I eat healthy, and I work out a few times a week, between the pool and the gym," Artie rattled off, intent on proving Kyle wrong. "So, you know what? I do take care of my body."

"You know what I mean."

"Why do you care?" Artie huffed.

He was face to face with Kyle, with his hands resting on the older guy's shoulders and Kyle's hands on his waist to help support his balance. It was as if they were at a middle school dance. Contrary to Sebastian's beliefs, this was as close as Artie had ever been to another guy, and as close as he ever wanted to be.

Kyle's blue eyes locked with his, and to Artie's surprise, he found that his typically goofy and positive (often overwhelmingly so) therapist looked defeated.

Kyle gently guided Artie down from his kneeling position so that he was sitting on a soft cushion that had been strategically placed so that he could rest back on his heels. Artie reached for his water bottle as he waited for Kyle to answer his question.

"I care because you're like a brother to me, Art. I mean that," he replied. "You were my first patient, and I… I mean, I've watched you grow up."

Kyle had been the only physical therapist Artie had ever had. He'd taught Artie all of the useful aspects of living life in a wheelchair, and, in turn, Artie had been the first to allow Kyle to put his new and shiny doctorate degree to the test. In a sense, they'd grown up together. Artie supposed that, in almost a decade, he'd taught Kyle almost as much as Kyle had taught him.

"I remember how motivated and determined you were to be independent, and your excitement about all of your 'firsts'," Kyle continued. "I'd just hate for you to lose that can-do mentality that's gotten you so far in life."

"I haven't lost it," Artie told him, softening up a little bit from his previously moody state. "I just… have different priorities now. I am an adult, so I can make decisions for myself. Like, legally, I mean. And medically. Nobody can force me to be here. It's just hard for me not to feel like I've already mastered all I can, you know? There aren't any gains anymore like there were in the beginning. I'm not making progress. I'm just… stuck."

The dynamic that they'd developed over the years was a unique one, in that Artie had his guard down at all times. He had nothing to hide– Kyle already knew all of his most intimate secrets that he typically liked to keep hidden from view in his daily life. He could be his most honest self without having to worry about feeling judged or pitied or misunderstood.

What Artie had said must have made a whole lot of sense, because Kyle didn't seem to have a witty comeback or another reason why Artie should get his butt in the gym more often. He just nodded, knowing when to leave well enough alone. Kyle had said his piece and gotten his point across to Artie, and Artie had done the same. Now they had no choice but to move on.

Without his therapist even having to say anything, Artie knew what came next. He'd been through this exact workout routine enough times to know that after he completed the floor-to-chair transfer, they were going to move on to the standing frame.

"So what did you say was up with Sebastian?" Kyle wanted to know, keeping himself busy by scrolling on his phone as Artie transferred from the ground to his chair, then from his chair into the seated part of the stander.

"What?" was Artie's response as he got situated, using his hands to lift and move his legs into place and fighting gravity to do it.

"Earlier, you said that you'd spent all week working on your short film and dealing with Sebastian that you didn't have time to spend with your girl," Kyle reminded him as Artie began to fasten all of the Velcro straps and buckles that were necessary to hold him securely into place. "What happened with Sebastian?"

"Oh," Artie said while Kyle pumped the lever on the side of the contraption that raised Artie into a standing position. "That."

It was far from effortless and graceful, but standing never failed to change his demeanor. Artie always got a rush of adrenaline when he was upright. Or maybe that was just his body getting used to the difference in blood circulation…

As Artie began trying to decide where to start his explanation, he pushed and pulled the levers in front of him on the stander, which in turn, made his legs glide smoothly back and forth, as if he were on an elliptical machine. As long as he was pumping his arms and moving his legs, his circulation would be doing its job to keep him from fainting. It was a very methodical process, but Artie knew the ins and outs of it after all these years. "It's kind of a long story."

"I've got time."

"Well, I guess it kind of started at the beginning of the summer, right when school let out," Artie said, resolving to tell the tale from the very beginning if he had to tell it at all. "After my mom's wedding, me and Quinn started hanging out, like, every day, and our friends started to take notice of it. Even before we actually put a label on it and everything, people were just, like, assuming we'd be hanging out together."

"Well, from what I've been hearing this summer whenever you've been generous enough to fit me into your schedule, it does seem like you two are together a lot," Kyle told him.

"I know. Back in June, Ella was trying out for the school cheer team, and while Seb and I were waiting to pick her up, I decided to call Tina and see if she wanted to come over and swim. I said that I hadn't seen her in a while and that I missed her, and she was like, 'Yeah, because you seem pretty busy', and I was like, 'Whoa, okay'. But then she asked if me and Seb wanted to meet up with her, Sam, and Blaine for lunch."

"At first, I thought it was weird that T and these guys were hanging out together all of a sudden," Artie continued. "Because, like, Sam and Tina are friends, I guess, but I didn't really think Blaine and Tina were. Not in, like, a 'hanging out outside of Glee Club' way. And Blaine and Sam spent half of the school year arguing with one another! I guess I was just a little… I don't know. Confused? That they were hanging out like that? And that my invite was just an afterthought."

"Did that bother you?" Kyle wondered.

"Yeah, it did, but I was trying to, like, pretend that I was fine," Artie confessed. "I didn't want to draw too much attention. But I could see in Seb's eyes that he was mad. I hoped he wouldn't say anything, but, of course, he did."

"What did he say?"

"Just that I'm a rising senior, too, and that I should be invited to all of their senior hangouts," Artie replied. "He meant well, but it was embarrassing for me because it obviously made the three of them feel bad. Tina said that it wasn't their intention to leave me out and that the three of them were all just free that day, and they know that I am usually busy. You know, with Quinn."

Artie found that telling such a long story made the minutes he was propped upright pass by quickly since he wasn't so focused on the nauseous feeling he tended to get while standing.

"Drama this, drama that. I'm a doctor of physical therapy, not psychological therapy," Kyle joked. "Between your pressing emotional issues and the canceling and rescheduling of your appointments all summer long, you're aging me, Artie Abrams."

"You were the one that asked me about this!" Artie reminded him. "I wasn't even gonna say anything."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Kyle said, waving him off. "So, the three of them have been hanging out together all summer?"

"Pretty much."

"Doing what?"

Artie shrugged. "Beats me. Driving around, chilling at each other's houses, I guess. They were kind of clinging to one another during the rehearsals and filming days for my short film, too."

"How does all of that make you feel?" Kyle asked.

"Not great, obviously. But I pick my battles, and it's kind of exhausting to try to fight it all the time. I just figure that if they want to hang out without me… whatever. Drawing attention to it and making them feel guilty isn't gonna solve anything. It's just gonna make them resent me and want to be around me even less. I don't see why everyone else doesn't see that."

"It sounds to me like Sebastian's trying to look out for you," Kyle said. "He doesn't want to see you mistreated or taken advantage of."

"For what it's worth, I don't think that they intend to make me feel bad about myself," Artie clarified. "I don't think they're, you know, being malicious or anything. I really do think that they assume I'm always with Quinn, which, you know, is fair…"

Artie knew that he had a habit of seeing the best in everyone (even when they probably didn't do anything to deserve his grace), but he truly didn't think that his friends were trying to make him feel excluded. Especially not Tina and Sam, who he considered to be two of his best friends in the world. This was what he'd been trying to convey to everyone– rather unsuccessfully, thus far.

"I do kind of think that Sebastian sees their trio as something intentionally pointed and villainous, though," Artie confessed. "But how is that my business? To police how my friends are perceived by him? I have a lot on my plate right now, and I don't have the time or the energy to deal with that, too."

"But then, the other night, it sort of all came to a head," Artie shared, finally getting to the part of the story that Kyle had inquired about in the first place. "Seb came home from work all worked up because Tina and Blaine had visited during the shift to ask Sam if he wanted to hang out with them afterward. Seb was angry that I wasn't doing anything about the situation, and that I didn't want any of his help either. He stormed out and didn't come back home until the next morning."

Kyle whistled, seeming to understand where all the drama had come from now.

"I'm not completely over it all just yet, even though I'm trying to be. I'm really trying," Artie said. "Because I know that Seb means well. It just gets frustrating at times, when it seems like everyone else thinks they know what's best for you."

That seemed to be the common theme of the day, Artie noticed.

"I'm going to my dad's house this weekend with Griffin, and I'd be lying if I said that I'm a little worried that while I'm away in Akron, Seb's going to use that unsupervised time to go behind my back and cuss them out. He's said that he won't do that, but…"

"Do you believe him?"

"I…" Artie's voice trailed off. "I don't know. I might. I want to. I really, really want to."

"But you don't."

Artie sighed.

"It's not that simple," he insisted. "A year ago? No way would I trust him. But now… he's gotten better. A lot better. But I know he thinks he can fix these things. He wants what's best for me. He wants me to be happy, which I am, of course, but–"

"Well, what about once school starts?"

"Huh?"

"Next month when school starts," Kyle repeated. "Quinn's off at college, Sebastian's at his private school, and say these kids are still making plans without you. How will you feel then?"

Artie hesitated. Nowadays, pretty much all of his friends are in Glee Club. Over the years, he'd quit the jazz band, grown distant from the AV Club… the New Directions were his people. How would he feel if three other seniors continued leaving him out of everything, and he had nobody to go through senior year with?

Not good.

All of a sudden what Sebastian had been saying all along started to sink in. Artie stopped pumping his arms– which, in turn, stopped moving his legs– and stared blankly back at Kyle. He'd been accusing Sebastian of not looking at the bigger picture of the situation, when, in reality, Artie had been the one with blinders on. All it had taken was for Kyle to break it down like this for him to recognize it.

The older guy seemed to notice the look of realization on Artie's pale face. Or maybe he'd just lost his color from being upright for too long.

"Listen, Art, it sounds like Sebastian means well, he's just a little… confused," Kyle said, taking Artie's appearance as a hint and lowering the standing frame back to its original seated position. "He clearly wants to help you, so that's a step in the right direction. You should take that momentum he's got and try to work with him, instead of against him. Explain to him– patiently and thoroughly– why you feel the way you do."

"I've tried that," Artie replied, his face flushed and his breathing labored. He wiped the sweat that was beading on his face with his forearm. "Several times now. He doesn't seem to get it."

"Well, maybe you guys need to go and do something this weekend. Just the two of you," Kyle told him. "I don't know. Spend some time together and find a way to reach some common ground."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just told you. I'm going to my dad's."

"Bring Sebastian."

"To my dad's?" Artie asked, pausing as he was unbuckling himself from the standing frame to glance up at Kyle and cock his head to the side with confusion.

"Sure, why not?"

Artie was caught off guard by the idea. What business would Seb have coming to Akron? The other guy hardly knew Artie's dad, and Artie only got to see his father minimally as it was. Why would he want to bring Sebastian with him, giving up the chance to spend quality one-on-one time with his father– and, more importantly– the opportunity to have a weekend away from all of this 'Blamtina' crap? Didn't he deserve a three-day reprieve from all the drama?

But another part of him knew how self-centered those thoughts were. Artie was grateful for the ability to go see his dad, even if it wasn't as frequently as he would like. His heart ached when he remembered that Seb didn't have the same opportunity when it came to his mother. No matter how much Artie wanted to, he couldn't push away the memory of what his mom had shared about Sebastian getting all depressed on the weekends when the Abrams kids would head off to Akron and he was left by himself. It was obvious to Artie that Sebastian had been struggling a bit this summer. Despite how irritated he was by his step-brother's actions– especially as of late– Artie still wanted to be there for Sebastian. That's what brothers did for one another, after all.

"Hey, we've still got fifteen minutes left, and you lugged those braces all the way here and almost took a nosedive in the parking lot because of 'em," Kyle pointed out, jarring Artie from his thoughts and bringing him back to the present. "Think you have it in you to give me everything you've got on the parallel bars for a bit before we stretch you out and call it a day?"

For the first time in months– despite his exhaustion– Artie felt the fire and determination of that little kid he once was. His heart-to-heart with his physical therapist had reawakened something within him that had been laying dormant for longer than he'd care to admit. Without hesitation, Artie nodded.

"Bring it."