Something - Quinn Fabray

Chapter 91

It had been three weeks since the accident a little over two since she'd woken up, and while her condition had improved, she had a long way to go. She was breathing better, but her back was still hurting her. The first week had been difficult, with her barely being able to sit up for ten minutes without the pain becoming too much. There had been some improvement though, and she'd recently been cleared to leave the room for short periods of time in a wheelchair.

A physical therapist had begun to make daily visits to the room, stretching various muscles to prevent atrophy. An occupational therapist had also shown up, making arrangements to help her relearn day to day functions, and to acquaint her with life in a wheelchair. So far, nothing too rigorous had transpired, her broken ribs preventing too much movement at this stage. But everyone, Quinn especially, was slowly coming to realize just how much everything had changed.

She still couldn't feel her legs.

The doctors had told her that it would take some time for sensation to come back; movement even more. But she could hear the unsaid statement. She might never walk again.

Visitors came and went, a continuous cycle of movement in her room - family, classmates, friends - but to be honest she wasn't paying attention.

She didn't want to deal with anything. She didn't want to accept this.

Ryan tried to talk to her. But she couldn't talk about it. He didn't understand. He was getting better. She wasn't.

She was pulled from her thoughts by soft knocking on the door. She looked at the clock. Frannie and Cooper had returned to California last week. Judy was at work, and Ryan wouldn't be here for a while yet. She knew he'd drafted a schedule to make sure she had someone with her most of the time, a gesture so like him that in any other circumstance she would have laughed. She'd sent Kitty away some time ago though, wanting to be by herself today.

The door opened, revealing Artie Abrams. "Hey Quinn," he greeted hesitantly. "I just thought I'd drop by."

Quinn didn't answer. This was the first time she'd seen him since the accident, and looking at him in his wheelchair, she didn't know how to react. When she didn't say anything he winced. "I can go, if you want."

She stared at him for a moment, torn between the prospect of having someone who understood what she was going through, and the fact that seeing him was a stark reminder of the future she could be facing. "Stay," she found herself saying. "It's fine."

Artie nodded, quickly maneuvering himself into the room, and Quinn felt a stab of jealously at the ease with which he did, recalling just minutes ago when she'd been completely dependent on the nurses to propel her around. A mildly uncomfortable silence fell between them. He was a year below her, and Quinn had rarely interacted with Artie when she was in the New Directions, much less since the Troubletones had been formed.

"How are you doing?" he asked eventually.

"Fantastic," she replied, a touch of sarcasm creeping into her voice. Everyone asked that. What was she supposed to say? She wasn't fine, she wasn't anywhere near fine, she felt trapped in her own body and she couldn't do a thing about it. He was aware enough to wince at her frosty reply.

"I guess I deserved that." He nodded in the direction of her legs. "Look, if you need anything, any help, I'm totally here."

"Thanks."

"Do they think you'll get it back?"

"Maybe." The answer was short. She took a careful breath, berating herself. She was going to beat this. She didn't know how to handle it if she didn't. "I will."