Chapter 20: Sense of Urgency

ARTIE

"Hmmm… I'd probably give that one a seven out of ten."

"Only a seven?! C'mon, man, it was better than that!"

"Ehhh. I don't know. I might have to see it again."

It was nearing six o'clock in the evening, and Sebastian and Artie were currently keeping themselves busy by swimming in the pool out back. They were waiting for Nancy, Harrison, and Griffin to get home from the law firm so that they could eat dinner as a family. Well, minus Ella, who was at a Cheerios slumber party and wouldn't be joining them. Currently, Sebastian was showing off some of his silly and creative jumps into the pool for Artie, who was judging each of them as he perched on the underwater bench in the deep end. It was mostly just a way for Sebastian– ever the clown– to entertain the both of them, making the time pass by quicker.

Sebastian swam to the edge of the pool and, using his strong triceps and shoulder muscles, pushed himself up and climbed out of the water. The water droplets beaded on his skin as he hurried away from the pool in order to get a running start for his next leap.

"Ready?" Sebastian called, crossing his arms over his chest, shivering slightly as he felt the difference in temperature between the heated pool and the slightly chillier air.

"One, two, three… go!" Artie counted him down before Sebastian utilized his long, lean legs to his advantage as he took just three powerful strides before executing a near-perfect cannonball. His jump produced big waves of water that rippled through the pool, causing Artie to have to grip the edge in order to maintain his seated position and not be thrown off balance.

While the action was exceptionally admirable, Artie knew he couldn't let Sebastian know that. It would go to his head.

"Nine-point-five," Artie said casually, feigning indifference. Just as expected, this elicited an exasperated reaction out of his highly competitive step-brother.

"What does a guy have to do to get a perfect ten around here?!" Sebastian lamented, shaking his head to get his wet hair out of his eyes as was treading water.

"I haven't quite decided that yet," Artie confessed with a sly grin. "I'll just know one when I see it."

"Perhaps you need to lower your expectations a bit. Not everyone was a freaking gymnast in a past life, you know."

"Yeah, well, that's pretty obvious, now isn't it? Because, I mean, if you had been, you'd at least know to point your toes."

"You are impossibly difficult to impress, Abrams, you know that?" Seb complained, still joking around but also beginning to get irritated now, too. "I'm surprised Quinn's put up with your ass for this long."

"Yeah, yeah, that's nothing I haven't heard before," Artie replied, waving him off before pushing off of his bench and beginning to paddle over to the stairs in the shallow end. "Alright, it's time for me to get out if I want to have time to shower before Mom gets home and needs help with dinner."

"Wait, wait!" Sebastian called, swimming after him. "One last jump? Please? Then we can both get out. I want to get a perfect score just once."

Artie rolled his eyes. "Fine. Quickly, though. It's getting kind of cold out here."

Sebastian beamed before ducking under the water and swimming over to the wall again to pull himself out.

He'd followed Artie out into the middle of the water, so now the distance he had to cover to reach the part of the pool where it was deep enough to jump into was longer than usual. That, mixed with Artie's sense of urgency to towel off and head inside to shower, caused Sebastian to quicken his pace to a run. All it took was one slight misstep on the slippery patio for his feet to go right out from under him, sending him spilling onto the pavers with a loud thud accompanied by a yelp.

"Agh!"

"Jeez!" Artie winced as he witnessed all six-foot-two of Sebastian tumble to the ground like that. "Seb, are you okay?!"

"Ow, ow, ow!" Sebastian wailed, grabbing his left foot and rolling around on the patio in pain.

Artie's eyes widened and his heart rate quickened upon realizing that Sebastian was actually hurt. He swam over to the stairs, and using a series of quicker-than-usual-but-still-carefully-executed movements, Artie hoisted himself from the edge of the pool into his chair. He'd left a towel on his seat cushion to keep his chair from getting soaked and another on the ground beside it to dry himself off with. There was no time for that now, though. Once his feet were resting squarely on the footplate, Artie gathered his second towel and threw it haphazardly across his lap as he swiftly unlocked his brakes and hurried over to check on Sebastian.

"You okay?" Artie asked again, despite thinking he may already know the answer based on his step-brother's body language. It didn't look too promising. "You fell pretty hard. Is it your ankle?"

"No, I think it's my foot," Sebastian said. He was still clutching the appendage and had now started to take deep breaths. "It hurts so bad. Agh."

Artie twisted his mouth to the side, unsure of how to even go about helping him. He'd seldom been on this side of this situation. As much as he hated to admit it, he was usually the one who needed help. Sebastian glanced up at Artie and a lump formed in Artie's throat as he registered the water that had begun to well up in Sebastian's eyes. Artie could tell that it was taking everything in him to fight back against the urge to cry and to keep his tears from spilling over.

Artie knew– better than most people, he assumed– that accidents happen, and that sometimes they are no one's fault. But, at this moment, he still found himself riddled with guilt. If only he hadn't told Sebastian to be quick about getting his final jump in, then he wouldn't have rushed like that. If Artie hadn't been so stubborn about withholding the perfect ten score in the first place, Sebastian wouldn't have even wanted to try one last time to achieve it. If only he hadn't been in such a hurry to go in and shower– Artie hadn't been in any real danger of his body having an adverse reaction of some sort, but now that he was sitting on the patio and still soaking wet, he knew that he was.

"We should go inside," was all Artie said, grabbing his push rim firmly with his left hand and sticking his right one out to help Sebastian to his feet. "Do you think you can bear your weight on it?"

"I… I think so," Sebastian replied, taking Artie's outstretched hand and allowing the smaller guy to help him to his feet. Sebastian gingerly placed his throbbing foot on the ground and cautiously shifted his weight onto it before gasping and pulling his foot back as if he had been burned. "Ow! No. No, I definitely can't."

"Okay," Artie told him, racking his brain as he tried to think of a plan. They were home alone, so there was nobody else there to shoulder some of Seb's weight to help get him inside, and Artie could feel the uncomfortable, panic-inducing sensation of his body temperature dropping by the second. He needed to come up with a plan quickly.

"Okay," Artie repeated for a second time before the only half-decent idea he could think of sprung into his brain. "Why don't you grab onto the handles of my chair? And-and I'll go slowly into the house, and you can hop behind me on your good foot. But put most of your weight onto my chair though, alright? I can handle it. I don't want you to fall again."

Sebastian nodded his understanding, and Artie maneuvered himself so that he was directly in front of where Sebastian stood. Seb did as he was instructed and took hold of each of the black handles that stuck out of the back of Artie's chair.

As Artie carefully inched them both forward toward the sliding glass door that led into the kitchen, he was momentarily grateful for the presence of his handles, something he never expected to think. More often than not– especially in recent years– Artie had loathed them. They gave off the impression that he needed someone to push him from place to place, like a baby in a stroller. He couldn't begin to estimate the number of times that people had come up from behind him, taking him by surprise by steering him from one place to another, or– most frustrating of all– just moving him out of their way without even a word about it. For years, he'd even put up with his friends pushing him in the hallways at school. He knew they meant well, but he was more than capable of getting from place to place by himself, thank you very much. In recent years he'd vowed that the next time he was approved by insurance to get a new wheelchair, he would be axing the handles altogether. All they ever did, Artie reasoned, was give people the wrong idea– making them think he needed their help. But now, Artie's handles were allowing him to help out someone else for a change. Maybe they weren't entirely bad after all.

Though they were moving at a pace slower than a tortoise, Artie and Sebastian finally made it inside, and Sebastian collapsed onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Artie took it upon himself to fetch him a bag of frozen peas from the freezer to use as an ice pack.

"Here," said Artie, locking his brakes when he was across from his step-brother and patting his lap. "Rest your foot on my lap to keep it elevated. We'll start icing it now and maybe that'll help with the pain a little. I'm gonna call my mom and ask her what we should do."

Sebastian obeyed Artie's instructions without fussing, which– based on how uncharacteristic it was for Sebastian to take direction from anyone, let alone from Artie– should have been an indication of how crappy he was feeling at the moment.

Artie dialed his mom's number and was relieved when she picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Artie said. "It's Artie. Quick question… how far away from home are you?"

"We left about twenty minutes ago, so we've probably got twenty minutes or so left, barring any traffic," Nancy answered. Artie had his phone tucked between his cheek and his shoulder as he held a bag of frozen peas to Sebastian's foot, and he must have pressed them a tad too forcefully because Sebastian chose that exact moment to groan loudly in pain. "What was that?" Nancy asked. "Is everything alright?"

"Uh… Seb and I were out back swimming and he kind of… tripped on the patio," Artie confessed.

"Oh gosh," Nancy replied, her voice full of concern. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Artie said reflexively. He knew how his mother could get overly anxious about this kind of stuff– especially since the accident. He didn't want to worry her more than was necessary. Sebastian moaned in pain again. "Well, actually, he could be better. His foot's hurting him." Artie lifted the bag of peas and took a peek. "And it's starting to swell. I'm icing it for him, but he's in pain. I just… don't really know what else to do."

"Alright, alright, okay," Nancy replied quickly, probably trying to calm herself down from suspecting the worst-case scenario and also not wanting to alarm the boys in the process. "Hold tight for a second, okay, honey?"

Artie heard her pull the phone away from her ear and fill Harrison and Griffin– who were also in the car with her– in on the situation. He tried to make out what they were saying but between their muffled voices and the distressing sounds Sebastian was currently making that made him sound like… roadkill or something… Artie couldn't decipher what they were discussing.

"Okay, Artie, why don't you two start heading over to the urgent care downtown and we will meet you there," Nancy told them. "But before you go, get Sebastian some ibuprofen to help with the pain– nothing more than that though, just in case they want to give him something stronger once you get there. We'll see you soon, okay?"

Artie stole a glimpse at Sebastian just then. He was squeezing his eyes shut tightly, and wearing this pinched expression on his face like he had just tasted something sour. Artie sighed. He really did feel for the guy. Sebastian could be a pain in his ass a lot of the time, sure, but that didn't mean that Artie ever wanted to see him in pain.

"Yeah," Artie replied after a moment. "Yeah, that sounds okay. We'll see you then."

…

SEBASTIAN

Sebastian could feel the strangers in the waiting room at the urgent care staring at him and Artie, and it was beginning to irritate him.

Immediately after Artie had ended his call with Nancy, who said she would meet them there, the two of them loaded up in Artie's car and left. To appease the clothing requirements of public spaces, the boys had taken a moment to throw on t-shirts and shoes (well, Sebastian only had one shoe on, since his left foot was growing more swollen and painful by the minute). But other than that, they were still wearing their swimsuits and towels, making it abundantly clear to everyone around them that they had just left the pool.

After Artie and Sebastian had worked together to fill out the paperwork to get Seb checked in, Artie had parked his chair across from where Sebastian sat so that he could use his lap as an ottoman once more. They'd left the bag of peas at home and accepted a reusable ice pack from the front desk to use in the meantime until they could be seen by a doctor. This– coupled with their unconventional outfit choices– seemed to elicit curious glances from the others who were waiting to be seen by the doctors around dinnertime on a random Wednesday night in mid-July, including a sick little kid who was resting his head in his mother's lap and a guy who had burned himself while grilling. Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest and wished that they'd all just mind their own business.

With each pang in his foot, Sebastian grew angrier. All he could think about was everything this injury would prevent him from doing for the rest of the summer. In the past, he usually spent a few afternoons a week playing tennis at the country club the Smythes belonged to. A foot injury was almost as bad as an elbow injury when it came to tennis– you can't go running back and forth on the court with your foot bothering you. You wouldn't be nearly quick enough to chase after the ball hit your way. Just because Sebastian hadn't actually dusted off his racquet yet that summer didn't mean that he didn't plan to… at some point. His dad had promised that he'd set up a tee time soon for the two of them and Griffin to play a round of golf, too. And now all of those plans were dashed. Depending on the severity of this injury, Sebastian could throw away all of his plans for the rest of the summer and look forward to spending his days wasting away in front of the television. Fun.

They hadn't been waiting for very long by the time Nancy and Harrison showed up with Griffin in tow. They'd come straight from work, so the stark contrast of Nancy's business dress, Harrison's suit, and Griffin's collared shirt, compared to Seb and Artie's swim attire, would have been comical to Sebastian if he wasn't currently in so much pain.

"How are my boys doing?" Nancy asked, putting a comforting hand on each of their shoulders.

"Could be better," was Sebastian's response. The ibuprofen he'd swallowed before leaving the house didn't feel like it had kicked in yet.

"Damn, Seb, look at that thing," Griffin noted unhelpfully, leaning over to take in the present state of Sebastian's foot as Artie removed the ice pack. "It's, like, enormous."

The doctor thought so too when he began his examination of Sebastian once the family had been called into one of the small exam rooms. After knocking on the door, the doctor greeted the family and introduced himself as Dr. Simmons. He got right down to business, inspecting Sebastian's foot and testing the range of motion in his ankle, seeming to come to his conclusion after only a moment.

"Well, Mr. Smythe, based on the swelling and slight bruising of your foot right now, my professional opinion is that it's fairly obvious that something's not right," Dr. Simmons joked.

He was on the younger side and had gelled dark hair that reminded Sebastian of Blaine Anderson's. If being a doctor didn't automatically make someone hot, the way that his pants hugged his thighs and ass in just the right places certainly did. Sebastian might have even started flirting with him if his pain level wasn't approaching the perfect ten he'd been so desperately seeking back in the pool… and if his whole family wasn't also in the crowded room.

"What do you say we skip the rest of this exam I was planning on doing and head right to imaging?" Dr. Simmons asked, placing his hands on his hips in such a manner that threatened to make Seb forget all about his current circumstance. "I think we should get an X-ray of that foot sooner rather than later, don't you?"

"Oh. Um, yeah," Sebastian replied, stumbling over his words and hoping that his family didn't take notice. "I mean, yes. I mean… that sounds good."

"Great," Dr. Simmons said, clapping his hands together. "Well, here, why don't you take a seat in this wheelchair, and then the two of us can head down the hall. Mom and Dad can stay here with your brothers. We won't be long."

Sebastian made no move to correct him. He did not comment saying, 'Oh, no, she's not my mom. Not my real one anyway. My real mom's dead'. That would undoubtedly make things awkward, so he chose to say nothing, just making quick eye contact with his dad as he hopped off the exam table and took a seat in the vacant wheelchair waiting for him.

Artie crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow as he gave Sebastian an up-down. "Listen, I know you admire me so much and aspire to follow my lead in every way possible, but I just don't think you can rock this look," Artie teased. "It takes a very attractive and charming type of person to pull off the wheels, and I don't think you've got what it takes. You lack the charisma, the je ne sais quoi."

"Right, and what would you know about je ne sais quoi?" Sebastian retorted, rolling his eyes and reaching for the wheels of the huge hospital chair, attempting to pivot on his own but finding it difficult. Dr. Simmons took the handles of the chair and steered him toward the door just as Sebastian called over his shoulder, "You're insufferable, and I mean that."

Artie beamed, probably satisfied by seeing that he'd successfully ticked Sebastian off just as he was poised to leave the room.

The X-ray room that hot Dr. Simmons brought him to was dark and cold, especially since Sebastian was only wearing a Dalton Academy lacrosse t-shirt and a damp swimsuit. He took a seat on the X-ray table and set the lead apron on his lap as he was instructed to do. They took three pictures from a few different angles, then he was good to go. The process took less than fifteen minutes and before he knew it, he had returned to the exam room and was awaiting the results of the images.

Sebastian was facing the other four and sitting atop the crinkly white paper that covered the table, with his foot elevated on a pillow, when he noticed Artie's teeth beginning to chatter.

In their hurry to exit the pool and get in the car to drive to urgent care, neither Sebastian nor Artie took the time to change out of their wet swimsuits. They probably should, however, have taken the extra few minutes to put on something dry (it wasn't like Seb's foot was dangling at an odd angle or anything– they had time to spare!). Sebastian knew that the level of Artie's injury had screwed with his ability to regulate his body temperature which meant that he got cold or hot easily. He guessed that the top-notch air conditioning in this building and sitting in his damp swimsuit was causing Artie's body temp to lower a bit, but that he was trying to power through and ignore the chills, which Sebastian thought was dumb. For someone so book-smart, his brother could also be remarkably stupid.

"Put some clothes on, Artie," Sebastian finally said, sick of watching him poorly attempt to suppress his shaking. He would have offered him the towel that was still wrapped around his waist, but it was still damp, which– coupled with the chilly air-conditioned exam room– would have the opposite effect.

"What? I'm fine," was Artie's stubborn and not-very-believable response as everyone's attention turned to him.

"He's right, Art. You should've packed another layer," Griffin chimed in.

"Honey, why don't I go ask the front desk if they have an extra blanket or something laying around somewhere?" Nancy offered.

"No," Artie was firm in his response. "I'm fine, okay? I told you."

"You've gotta take better care of yourself," Griffin chastised him, which only seemed to make Artie angrier. If there was anything Artie despised more than being different, Sebastian knew, it was when other people treated him that way.

"Here, Artie, why don't you hold onto this for now," Harrison handed the boy his sport coat from his work suit. "I don't need it, and when you warm up a little, I'll take it back."

Artie begrudgingly accepted the jacket, laying it on his lap and over his chest so that it covered his arms.

The tension in the room was broken by a knock at the door.

"I've got your X-ray results here, Sebastian," Dr. Simmons said when he reentered the exam room. "You were pretty lucky– it could have been a lot worse– but you're not entirely in the clear, I'm afraid." He hung the X-ray image on a lightbox attached to the wall and turned on the light. "Our radiologist spotted some slight fractures in the third and fourth metatarsals in your foot. See here?"

Everyone leaned in to get a better view. Sure enough, there were two tiny breaks in the bones in the middle of Sebastian's feet. Ugh.

"So… what does that mean?" Sebastian asked. "It's broken?"

"I'm afraid so," Dr. Simmons replied. He's way less hot when he's delivering bad news, Sebastian thought. "We'll send you home today with a sweet new boot cast and a pair of crutches."

"But-but I have work tomorrow!" Sebastian exclaimed. "I have to be able to be on my feet to scoop ice cream!"

"Listen, the fractures are pretty minor. Take it easy and stay off of your foot through the weekend, and if the pain and swelling have gone down by Monday, you can ditch the crutches and just wear the walking boot," Dr. Simmons told him. "We'll transfer these files to your primary care doctor, and they'll call you to schedule an appointment in a few weeks, and you can go from there."

While he was still annoyed at the way that this unexpected injury had thrown a wrench in his plans to have a relaxing, fun-filled summer, hearing that there was a chance he only had to use the crutches for a few days placated Sebastian.

"Sebastian, honey, you should bunk with Artie for the weekend, at least until you are off the crutches," Nancy said, which was met with an immediate protest from Artie.

"Mom…" Artie began to whine, finding out that his sacred space was going to be encroached upon without him having a say in the matter.

"Artie, enough. I don't want to hear it," Nancy told him sternly, shutting down his complaints. "Your room is on the first floor, it's big enough to share, and you have an accessible bathroom. He's going to need to use that, too, for the time being. So I don't want to hear any complaints or arguments out of the two of you, got it?"

Artie huffed before giving in and nodding, not wanting to face the wrath of his mother by continuing to air his grievances.

That particular reaction was kind of uncharacteristic of Artie, who was typically a helpful and welcoming sort of guy, but Sebastian didn't fault him for it. He probably would have reacted the same way, if their roles were reversed and it was his room that needed to be shared. He understood Artie's annoyance on the subject, and he even shared some of it. Did Artie think he was all that thrilled about having to sit his bare ass on the bench in Artie's shower so that his weight was off of his fractured foot? Well, he wasn't.

Regardless, Nancy was right– there really wasn't a better option. It looked like they were going to be roommates, at least for the next few nights. And the sooner they both came around to the idea, the better off they'd be.