Brittany visits Artie. Who: Brittany and Artie What: A hospital visit Where: Lima Memorial, room 213 When: November 23, morning Status: Finished.
Artie combed his hair as best he could, trying desperately to make it look halfway decent before Brittany arrived at the hospital that morning to keep him company. The nurse had helped him wash it, as well as helping him do everything else in the restroom. It was familiar, having help with embarrassing and private stuff, but it didn't make it any more comfortable. Fact is, Artie had gotten accustomed to 'normalcy' and being so abruptly thrust back into a partially dependent lifestyle had him reeling. He hated everything about the situation he was in, especially what had happened to his beloved car, which was now in shambles in a junkyard across town. His father, who even documented the first accident this way, had taken photos of the hunk of metal that Artie hadn't even had a chance to name yet. It was probably good that he hadn't gotten terribly attached. The car was a goner, and from the looks of it, it was surprising that Artie wasn't a goner, too.
Why did he have this horrible luck, when it came to motor vehicles? Neither accident had been his fault, both accidents had resulted in injury to his body, although he still had to be thankful that the second hadn't been as bad as the first. He'd been serious when he told Santana, in his drugged state, that the universe seemed determined not to let him go on living the way he'd been for the past three months. Perhaps it was unnatural for Artie Abrams, the paraplegic, to be healed. Maybe the universe would stop at nothing 'til Artie's course was corrected, 'til the boy was back in the wheelchair. Artie was beginning to think that maybe he'd have to be looking both ways, avoiding potential danger at all costs, for the rest of his life.
At last he heard a knock at the door. He placed the hand mirror and the comb on the tray beside his hospital bed. He hated for her to see him like this, in a weakened state once more, in need of others' care yet again. But it could've been worse, he reminded himself. And even though it looked like his body would heal at the speed of a normal human, the important thing was that he would heal, and then he could go back to being the normal boyfriend that Brittany deserved. "Come in," he called to her, pushing himself up so that he was sitting a bit more upright in the bed, as much as he could with his legs still hanging in traction.
Her smile was sheepish, like she wasn’t entirely sure if she should be there. Her mother had been there when Britt had heard the message from Santana about Artie’s car crash and she’d instantly panicked about what it meant, she’d almost blurted out that Artie should be healing but he wasn’t and that wasn’t fair either. She hadn’t really listened when San had told her that everything was okay, that Artie was only hurt a little or whatever. All Britt knew was that Artie had been in another accident, that there’d been another crash and Artie was in the hospital. She’d convinced her parents to let her visit her boyfriend the next day, since he would probably need cheering up. They liked Artie a lot anyway, it wasn’t like she was dating some motorbike riding, leather wearing, delinquent. She was dating the boy who helped her get a B minus in a class she didn’t even take.
So Wednesday was set aside for Britt to do her thing and go to the hospital and hopefully not be a bother. “Hey,” ever since these powers came up, ever since everyone got some kind of super thing bad things seemed to happen. “I brought you a balloon.” It was silver and in the shape of a football, but she didn’t think Artie would like flowers anyway.
"Thanks, you wanna tie it to my wheelchair?" Artie gestured at the familiar old chair, sitting by the window with Artie's duffel bag from home in the seat. It was his red one, and his mother had wasted no time in getting it out of the closet for him. If the staff at the hospital was surprised to learn that Artie had his own wheelchair already, well, they only needed to look at his medial records. Which nobody seemed to be asking about yet, at least not to Artie's knowledge, but it was only a matter of time before the Abrams family had to starttrying to answer difficult questions again.
Brittany wasn’t exactly enthused about it, but she sort of missed the chair sometimes anyway. She tied it to the handle, looping it around the metal and keeping it at a decent height before taking the seat next to Artie’s bed.
The bruises and cuts on his face and body actually affected her more than his two broken legs. It was probably because she’d seen the blisters heal up before, and now there was more to worry about than a few blisters. She hated even more that she couldn’t do anything for him. “Is there anything I can get you?”
"You're exactly what the doctor ordered," said Artie, grinning as best he could, in spite of his bruised cheekbones. He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, letting her know how grateful he was to see her. "It's pretty awesome of you to give up a day of your Thanksgiving break to be with me. I'd hoped to take you for a ride this weekend, maybe Christmas shop together, but it looks like that's out, huh?" As he said this, he thought of something else and frowned, giving her hand another protective squeeze. "I'm really glad you weren't with me yesterday though. I can't even think... that really would be awful."
Honestly, she wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that she hadn’t been with him. Maybe it wouldn’t have happened at all if she hadn’t been there. She couldn’t very well say that though; so he just squeezed his fingers between hers.
“It’s just Spanish Ham day, Lord Tubbington understands that you need me more than the pigs do.” She kind of hated Spanish Ham day anyway. “We just have to make sure Lord Tubbington is worshipped for his kindness next week.” Brittany just shrugged, because it wasn’t a big deal. “I don’t mind Thanksgiving break that much anyway. It doesn’t always make sense.” As far as Britt knew, Thanksgiving was just a day to eat turkey. And she did that on Christmas. “Have you told them?” She nodded her head towards the door, even though no one was there. "About the other stuff that happened?"
Artie licked his lips nervously. "About my healing from being paralyzed?" he inquired, knowing that this was what she meant. "I think they already know. They've seen my medical history, but no one's talking to me about it because I'm a minor. I guess... if they have questions, they'll ask my parents. At least I'm not healing now. Then they'd really have questions." He still had the stitches in his arm from last week. Why was it that, now that he couldn't heal supernaturally, he was a walking disaster?!
She figured they'd have the charts and stuff to tell them that he'd had the spinal injury before. It just didn't make sense that his powers would fail when he needed them the most. Britt could only really hope that his problem was the same as hers.
"It's probably just that you wore them out." That was what she put it down to. "Like when you start doing something a lot and get tired of it after a while. That's all it is." Truthfully, Britt didnt mind if he healed super fast or not, she was just hoping he got better at all. He seemed much happier when he was up and active.
"I can't really complain," he said, smiling at her. "I can walk - well, I will once my broken legs heal anyway. And I can see without glasses, I never expected that to come of my super powers. I couldn't really ask for more. And maybe it's better that I don't have them anymore. Maybe it's better because I won't have to explain myself in times like this. Can you imagine what they'd be doing to me if they'd brought me here and I'd just healed up on my own right before their eyes?"
She could imagine. She'd seen enough horror films and alien movies to picture the tests and experiments and how they'd take Artie away and they'd never see him again. She didn't really like what she imagined.
"I'm sort of glad that isn't what's happened either." And at least this time they knew that Artie would heal up, since it was just two broken bones, right? "So we just wait for your legs to heal up and then we'll go for a drive somewhere." Or something similar.
"I'm really glad you weren't hurt really badly. And that Santana called. That was good too."
"Yeah, I guess I was really lucky she was out driving and saw my accident happen," he commented, thoughtfully, recalling how Santana had kept him company until his parents arrived last night. He'd mostly slept, doped up on pain medication, so he hadn't exactly been good company himself. But she was still there when Artie's parents arrived and gave them a full report on how Artie'd been doing. She'd left shortly before they wheeled Artie off to get his double casts. It had been strange to have Santana present, that was for sure, but he felt extremely grateful that she'd been with him just the same.
It wasn't exactly like Santana to be nice like that but this was a serious accident and it was Artie. San would've known that. "So, I can write on your casts, can't I? And don't worry about school 'cause I can help out there too."
Artie smiled, knowingly. "Like old times," he commented, realizing that it was going to be a humbling experience, being back in his wheelchair again. He was pretty sure Jon Hubner would have a huge laugh at Artie's expense, though he most certainly deserved that. "And sure, you can write on them later, when I get them out of traction and find some colored Sharpies."
Teachers would be shocked to see that Artie was back in his chair for a little while but he'd heal up and be out of it before the end of the year hopefully. "It sucks you won't be dancing in the Nutcracker, you were really good."
"Oh, that's right..." Artie's smile faded at the realization. "I can still chair-dance for glee club, but the ballet is out. Oh, well, maybe next year." He fidgeted with the friendship bracelet from his dancing partner, Melody, that he never took off.
It was a bummer, she'd liked sharing things like that with him. Having that thing, doing the performance together, it would've been fun. She just smiled softly and nodded as he played with the bracelet.
"Hey, that looks like the one Quinn got me. But it sorta caught on fire earlier." She'd just never gotten around to goof out with Quinn to her a replacement. "Aren't they super awesome?"
Artie neither liked nor disliked the bracelet. He was just wearing it so as not to offend the one who gave it to him. "Melody wanted me to have it after I got hurt in dance rehearsal," said Artie, recalling the first time his powers failed him. "She felt bad, I think."
"She's super sweet," Britt was sure that Artie wouldn't hold it against the girl or anything, but she felt it was important that he know that Melody would've never wanted rehearsal to be like that. "She's still learning and stuff but I'm sure she felt horrible for what happened."
No one wanted their dance partner to be hurt nevermind being the one to hurt them, no matter how many times they danced with you.
"Hopefully, you'll be better for prom and we can dance together then."
Artie's eyes lit up. "I'd love it," he said, softly, thinking of their last prom, the one he'd almost ruined with his big mouth. "To dance with you, really dance with you, is a dream come true."
"Then once you're back on your feet, we'll go somewhere we can dance together, properly." She didn't really care if they didn't paintball together or motocross or go skating more. If he wanted to dance with her, they'd do that.
"Like maybe swing dancing," Artie suggested, closing his eyes and smiling. His eyelids were feeling heavy again; he was fighting off sleep once more because they'd given him more mediation after he'd woken up in pain that morning. He opened them again, but struggled to keep them that way.
"Maybe it'll be like me," Britt inched forward in her seat, lowering her voice, "like when my powers went away for a while because I was using them too much. Maybe that's all it is and then you'll be up and about in no time and we'll be doing all the stuff you want again." Her smile likely gave away her hope and enthusiasm, but Britt was just naturally that way.
"Yeah, I know, it's just hard to be patient again," Artie admitted. "Remember when my powers kicked in and I first started moving my legs and then walking with the crutches? When that happened, I just wanted to take off running right away. Waiting was tough."
"But don't you think that makes sense?" Britt moved from the chair, kneeling on the edge on Artie's bed but careful not to jostle his legs. "You went so fast and got so excited that your powers had to work to keep up. They're all drained out for a little while, they'll recharge and come back and you'll be on your feet by Valentine's Day."
If it was all as simple as just a case of over use things would be so easy. They'd just avoid Artie getting hurt, even if he would heal. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she placed a kiss against his cheek in what she hoped was comfort and encouragement.
"We're gonna be having that dancing date by February, bet'cha."
Artie smiled. "Valentine's Day, though?" He pouted. "That would be an awful long wait. You're probably right, though. Hey, c'mon, how about a real kiss?"
She grinned at him, sitting along his side a little closer and more comfortable. "Before Valentine's," the next kiss fell on his neck, "and we'll have the best February ever."
It wasn't like she could just straddle him like she did before, because his legs would likely hurt. But twisting to reach his lips was easy enough. The pressure was light but Britt took her time to draw it out and enjoy it.
"Mmm, thank you, baby," he murmured. And it might have sounded ridiculous, coming from a guy with two broken legs, but he didn't care. "I'm the luckiest guy on earth," he said."Then once you're back on your feet, we'll go somewhere we can dance together, properly." She didn't really care if they didn't paintball together or motocross or go skating more. If he wanted to dance with her, they'd do that.
"Like maybe swing dancing," Artie suggested, closing his eyes and smiling. His eyelids were feeling heavy again; he was fighting off sleep once more because they'd given him more mediation after he'd woken up in pain that morning. He opened them again, but struggled to keep them that way.
"Maybe it'll be like me," Britt inched forward in her seat, lowering her voice, "like when my powers went away for a while because I was using them too much. Maybe that's all it is and then you'll be up and about in no time and we'll be doing all the stuff you want again." Her smile likely gave away her hope and enthusiasm, but Britt was just naturally that way.
"Yeah, I know, it's just hard to be patient again," Artie admitted. "Remember when my powers kicked in and I first started moving my legs and then walking with the crutches? When that happened, I just wanted to take off running right away. Waiting was tough."
"But don't you think that makes sense?" Britt moved from the chair, kneeling on the edge on Artie's bed but careful not to jostle his legs. "You went so fast and got so excited that your powers had to work to keep up. They're all drained out for a little while, they'll recharge and come back and you'll be on your feet by Valentine's Day."
If it was all as simple as just a case of over use things would be so easy. They'd just avoid Artie getting hurt, even if he would heal. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she placed a kiss against his cheek in what she hoped was comfort and encouragement.
"We're gonna be having that dancing date by February, bet'cha."
Artie smiled. "Valentine's Day, though?" He pouted. "That would be an awful long wait. You're probably right, though. Hey, c'mon, how about a real kiss?"
She grinned at him, sitting along his side a little closer and more comfortable. "Before Valentine's," the next kiss fell on his neck, "and we'll have the best February ever."
It wasn't like she could just straddle him like she did before, because his legs would likely hurt. But twisting to reach his lips was easy enough. The pressure was light but Britt took her time to draw it out and enjoy it.
"Mmm, thank you, baby," he murmured. And it might have sounded ridiculous, coming from a guy with two broken legs, but he didn't care. "I'm the luckiest guy on earth," he said.