Fic: Artie To The Rescue: Artie/Rachel (G)
The one thing that Artie hated about being Artie was his obvious imperfections.
It’s not like he desired to be perfect or anything, but he wished he was a little less…him.
While most teenagers were dealing with pimples and gross cowlicks, Artie was struggling for comfort in his wheelchair. The zit covered and messy hair kids had practically nothing to worry about next to him. They could cover their blemishes with makeup or acne crème, and smooth some gel over their manes.
Artie’s problem wasn’t that simple to solve. He couldn’t exactly cover his wheelchair with crèmes and gels. All that would cause is a sticky mess, which his life was already engrossed in.
This might have had something to do with the fact that he hated the girl he loved.
Rachel Berry was the most annoying, insane, unreasonable, and anal girl he had ever met…but she was also the brightest, most creative, and most confident. Part of the reason he was crushing on her was his secret hope that he could somehow channel some of that confidence.
Rachel had people talk about her behind her back every day, yet, she never let them see her cry. They might have witnessed a storm out or two, but the image that the students of McKinley usually saw was a star. A crazy as hell star…but a star, nevertheless.
Artie also admired Rachel’s ability to not give into peer pressure. As cheesy as that compliment was, Artie felt it was one of the best he could give his crush. There were so many girls in his school who were willing to give up everything to be a cheerio, but not Rachel. No. He could always count on her to dress like a true-
Cheerio?
The dreaming gleek’s eyes grew bigger as he watched Rachel skip into the classroom in an orange cheerleading uniform.
A pissed off looking Santana stomped over to the wannabee-Cheerio in her orange striped Pumas. “What the hell are you wearing?”
Rachel just grinned at the pretty bully. “If you can be in the Cheerios AND in glee club, so can I. I can do anything you can do,” she remarked, her nose in the air.
Artie’s mouth formed into a perfect shaped “o”. After the vowel was formed, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say “Oh no” or “OMG”. Both seemed appropriate. Was Rachel seriously considering joining the bitch brigade?
Santana apparently didn’t feel that Rachel’s explanation was worthy of a response. She had turned around to start gossiping about Brittany, probably about how fat Rachel’s but looked in the uniform.
“How rude,” thought Artie. Rachel’s but didn’t look fat…it looked…good. Artie blushed and changed the subject in his mind, just in case someone had suddenly gained mind-reading powers.
Finn was always claiming he would eventually…who’s to say today wouldn’t be the day?
“Coach Sylvester already put me on the team. Becky can’t keep up. I can,” Rachel shouted at Santana’s back.
Artie sighed. Rachel just didn’t give up. Normally, that quality was a huge turn on…but right now…he just wanted to turn Rachel’s voice off!
He guessed that he wasn’t the only one who prayed that the glee lead singer would get a switch.
Yet, while unlike most, Artie wanted to turn her on.
Santana whipped around and glared down at the smirking Rachel. “Okay. Just because you can keep up with the routines doesn’t mean that you can keep up with the team.”
Rachel scratched her tanned bare leg nervously. “Whatdayamean?” she asked all in one breath.
“Every girl has to go through initiation. Tonight. Midnight. The Park. See you there, honey,” Santana snapped.
Poor Rachel either didn’t notice the fake sweetness in Santana’s voice or chose not to. Artie wished he could choose not to listen to this whole thing unfold, but he felt almost obligated to keep an eye out for Rachel. Finn wasn’t paying attention at all. He was typing crazily on his iPhone. Puck was laughing at a story that Matt was telling on the other side of the room, totally oblivious to the Rachel-Cheerios crisis.
Artie had to step in. Rachel needed a Prince Charming. Santana the dragon needed to be slayed…her fruity breath was worse than fire.
With the thought of Rachel’s safety replaying in his head, Artie crept from tree to tree in the park that evening.
Even with the loud squeak of twigs breaking from his wheels on the mossy ground below him, Artie’s perky ears could hear the Cheerios and their victim approach.
“Drink,” Brittany commanded, handing Rachel a plastic pink cup containing some pretty questionable liquid.
Rachel grimaced and slurped the concoction. Thirty seconds later, the glass was filled again and Artie’s heart was thumping.
Wow. He thought their hazing might actually be clever. They were just going to get her drunk?
Artie tried to muster the courage to interrupt the gathering. “Come on, Artie,” he begged himself. Be brave. For once in your life, be brave.
“This… isn’t…, like, alcoholic right?” Rachel mumbled shyly.
Santana raised her own glass and raised her eyebrows. “We’re all drinking too. Do you want to be in?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
Sadly, so did Artie.
Rachel took another generous sip.
“Rachel, you seem like a fair person to us. Doesn’t she ladies?” Santana asked her friends.
The other Cheerios nodded upon making eye contact with their leader.
“So, you get that we’ve all been through this?” Brittany cut in.
“Uh, yeah,” Rachel replied.
Santana smirked. “Great. Blindfold,” she called.
Two giggling dark headed Cheerio tied a long strip of cloth around Rachel’s head. She was a little tipsy and instantly began faltering on her silver Wet Seal flats.
“Jacob!” Satana hissed.
An excited curly-headed boy came out from behind a tall oak.
Artie gasped. This wasn’t clever either! It was plain wrong!
“Drink!” repeated Brittany, shoving a Starbucks cup that was most likely filled with spiked coffee into Rachel’s hands.
It wasn’t long before the dangerous beverages started to affect Rachel’s behavior.
“Rachel, Finn’s here to make out with you,” Santana lied.
The drunk girl giggled, spurts of laughter that turned into snorting. Artie hoped she didn’t laugh that way when she was sober. Although….it was sort of cute.
“Finn? Really? Oh my goddd. Are the seahorses here too?” Rachel asked.
Artie crossed his eyes, dumbfounded. Seahorses? Wow. She was really out of it!
“I love seahorses!” cried Brittany.
“SHUT UP!” screamed Santana.
Rachel continued laughing. “Come here, Finny,” she slurred.
When Jacob stepped closer to Rachel, Santana took out a small Kodak camera. “This is going right to YouTube. We’ll get a million hits!” she declared.
The soon to be humiliated gleek continued to laugh. “Oh, Finn. I’m so glad you’re here,” she said giddily.
As Jacob continued inching toward Rachel, Artie’s stomach did a flip flop. It was now or never. WWJR?
Artie took a deep breath and rolled himself out from behind the bench he was spying behind. “STOP!” he yelled.
Santana, Brittany, and the rest of the cheerleaders burst out in hysterics. “You?” Santana asked.
“Yes, me,” Artie said matter-of-factly, and rammed his wheelchair into Jacob’s arched back. The creepy boy yelped and ran in the direction of his crappy looking car.
“Come on, Rachel. Let’s go,” he said tenderly. With all the strength he could muster, Artie pulled the damsel in distress into his lap and lead them out of the park and back and the few blocks back to his house.
Inside, Artie slid Rachel from his lap to his living room’s comfy leather couch and made sure she slept a decent amount before gently urging her awake.
“Artie?” Rachel asked, opening one pretty brown eye.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. Drink this,” suggested Artie, handing her a tall mug of water.
The command jolted Rachel’s memory. “Oh, God. Last night. But you…you saved me,” she said, almost like she didn’t believe it.
“It was nothing,” Artie promised, blushing.
“No. It was sweet,” Rachel argued kindly, leaning forward. She planted a soft kiss on his lips and then plopped back against the loveseat.
Artie’s cheeks turned even redder. Her mouth still tasted like cheap beer, but it was also sweet.
“Rachel, you don’t need to be a Cheerio. You’re better than that,” Artie told her.
Rachel nodded. “I know,” she agreed a little too quickly. Then she sighed. “It’s just, sometimes I do, want to be, you know, popular. Sometimes just for Finn,” she admitted.
Artie copied her sigh at the mention of her crush’s name,
Rachel immediately noticed his reaction and corrected herself. “Well, he’s never done anything this nice for me. It’s usually for himself. He once convinced me to come back to glee club just so he could get a football scholarship.”
Her savior shook his head disapprovingly at this information. “Rachel, I promise that I wouldn’t uh, convince you to do something you uh, didn’t want to for all of the scholarships in the world,” Artie said, not exactly understanding what he meant.
It was okay. She did.