Arthur Charles Abrams, "Artie" (sg_artie) wrote in supergleerpg, @ 2011-11-16 18:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | !type: thread, -2011: november, former character: melody koenig, npc: mysterious man, wanted character: artie abrams, ~complete |
The One Where Artie Gets a Bad Gift
Who: Melody and Artie
What: A visit and a gift
Where: Artie's bedroom
When: Wednesday evening, 11/16
Artie sat and stared at his arm, trying to swallow the new reality that had reared its ugly head that very afternoon. To recap, since slicing his arm open on the barre during his first dance club rehearsal, he’d made one very chaotic trip to the emergency room. Artie thought perhaps he’d stun and awe the ER nurses with his supernatural healing abilities, but much to his horror, nothing happened this time. He’d been given a sling, some pain killers, and six stitches. And suddenly, Artie Abrams was no longer invincible. To say he struggled with the fact was an understatement.
Melody had done a few things in her life that she regretted, but none were as bad as putting someone in the hospital, even if Artie only had to go to get stitches. She’d found out from Brittany that Artie was at home (and where his house was) and decided to bring him a present and a card to say how sorry she was. After buying a silly card and one of her own friendship bracelets from Carlotta, Melody biked over to Artie’s house and screwed up her courage before approaching.
There came a knock at his door. “Artie? A young lady’s here to see you.”
Artie sat up straighter, throwing an afghan over his pajama-clad legs. Brittany? Tina? “You can let her in, mom.”
After being greeted by a woman who was obviously Artie’s mom, Melody let herself be let to where the boy was sitting. Oh, her guilt got ten times worse when she saw how down and fragile he looked. It made Melody want to cry. Instead, she stammered, “Uh, hey, Artie. I came to see how you’re doing. Hopefully good? Or, at least okay?”
Artie forced a cheerful expression on his face. However upset he was about all this, he could tell that Melody felt worse. “Hey, it could always be worse, right?” Forcing himself to be cheerful was something that Artie, back when he’d been in a wheelchair, had become very good at. He was a little of practice, but the old habit returned. “Stitches are kind of bad ass anyway. How’s your head?”
Melody waved off Artie’s concern, glad that he perked up a little, and said, “Oh, fine. I didn’t have a concussion or anything, so yeah. It could have been worse.” Taking the card (which she’d stuffed the friendship bracelet into) out of her coat pocket, Melody sat down across from Artie and thrust the card at him. “Here,” she said a little clumsily. “This is just something so you know how sorry I am. You know, about getting you hurt. It was all my fault, really.”
He gave her a sympathetic smile, sorry that she was beating herself up over it. “Hey, I could probably have warned you or something before I just tried to pick you up,” he reasoned, accepting the card. “Maybe gone a little slower. Really... it’s okay...” He opened the card and smiled at the little bracelet. It was kind of cool, even if bracelets weren’t really his thing. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, he started to try to put it on his other hand. The sling made matters a little tricky. “Er, could you help me with this?” He’d wear it, even if only to make her feel better.
Smiling, because Melody knew her present was lame, even if it was heartfelt, and Artie was being so nice about it, she got up to help him tie it on his good wrist. She made sure to leave it loose enough that it wouldn’t bother him, but tight enough that it wouldn’t fall off either, and said, “Now that your arm’s hurt, maybe Coach will let us forgo the lift for the performance. We could do some other choreography instead. Something a little safer.” Melody smiled and chuckled a little as she drew back, pushing her hair behind her ears and hoping Artie was okay with having a not-so-cool part in the ballet.
Artie chuckled at that. “I didn’t think about it, but you’re right. Oh, well. I’ve danced with bigger handicaps than this.” And that was true, without a doubt, that a lousy sling was still better than a chair. His face hardening, however, he remembered that he wasn’t even supposed to be able to sustain an injury in the first place. “... I just wonder what happened to my powers.”
“I don’t know,” Melody sighed, pulling in on herself a little. “Maybe you should ask that man who’s been hanging around school lately. He seems to know about superpowers. He certainly asks enough questions about them...”
Artie’s brow furrowed. “What man?”
Crap. Not even Artie seemed to remember the guy. “He’s this older man, looks kind of … I don’t know, weathered or something. You haven’t seen him around school? Asking everyone all these questions? Everyone who actually has powers anyway.” Melody couldn’t help but pout. Even her friend Lindsey was starting to be able to do cool stuff, but Melody was just the same as always.
“No...”he trailed off, frowning hard. “That’s creepy, though, really creepy. I’ve been lying low, trying to avoid attention, ever since I started walking with no way to explain it to my doctors and therapists. But if some creep is asking questions, I don’t like that at all. Point him out to me the next time you see him, okay? Or take his picture and show me later.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of taking his picture,” Melody replied, hitting her forehead at her own stupidity and then wincing when it hurt the cut on her brow. Double stupidity. “You’re so smart!” And also totally Brittany’s boyfriend.
Artie just shrugged modestly.
“Um, I should go, probably,” Melody admitted, standing up from her seat. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Artie. See you in dance class?”
“Definitely, a few stitches aren’t going to keep me away,” he said, smiling up at her. “Thank you for the card and the bracelet, and for coming over. It means a lot.” He gave her a small wave with his good arm.
“Happy to do it,” Melody replied truthfully as she returned Artie’s wave. “Bye.” With that, she saw herself out, picking her bike up from where she’d leaned it against the porch and riding away, feeling a little better for having done the right thing and for the fact that Artie didn’t seem to hate her as she’d feared.