AN: Oh my holy frakkin' God, I'm back! It's gotten kind of dark and empty here in the Artie/Tina fandom, hasn't it? I'm still a die-hard shipper, but the lack of Artie/Tina interaction on the show (combined with the cuteness that was Artie/Brittany and then this season's adorableness in the form of Tina/Mike) sort of left me feeling pretty uninspired. But I got this idea into my head and now it won't leave me alone. And even though I promised myself I wouldn't post any more chapter fics before I've finished writing them, I lied. Honestly, I want to know whether this idea sounds as good to my readers as it does in my brain. So let me know, what do you think?

Title: A Little Bit Like Heaven

Rating: T for mild swearing and innuendo.

Summary: When Tina Cohen-Chang moved into her new rental house, all she wanted was to have a comfortable place for some peace and quiet. Instead she wound up being haunted by the spirit of the former tenant, an obstinate young man named Artie who refused to accept the fact that he's dead. But things change when they realize that there might be more to Artie's story than expected. (An Artie/Tina story using the plot of "Just Like Heaven.")

Prologue: Into the Light

The song is back. It's filling the air all around him, making it thrum and vibrate. Artie closes his eyes and lets it seep into him. It's sweet and sad and powerful. Colours explode in the darkness around him, ribbons of sombre blue and flashes of dazzling yellows. This song, this haunting song, is his paradise. He wants nothing more than to just lay here in the blackness and absorb the majesty. Which is exactly why...

"Yo Abrams!"

Artie bolted awake, blinking around. He repositioned his glasses on his nose and the world around him came into focus, showing him hte bland, white walls of the hospital's faculty lounge. Ruffling a hand through his hair, he twists to look up at the figure looming over him. "What's up, Puck?" he asked once he recognized the face of his best friend and co-worker, Noah Puckerman.

"Breaks over, dude," Puck said, laying a chart down on the table Artie was recently using as a pillow. "We just got another rush in the ER, we need you down there."

"Right, I'm coming," Artie said, standing up and grabbing the chart. He used the reflection off the microwave door to hastily comb his hair back down into something manageable and then followed Puck out of the faculty lounge. Down on the first floor, he threw himself into his work and the new influx of patients that appeared during his fifteen minute nap.

"Alright, Mrs. Thatcher, your vitals are all looking good," Artie said, giving the older woman's chart a once over. "Keep your fever down like this another night and you'll be on your way back to Sunnyhills in no time.

"Aren't you just the most charming young man," Mrs. Thatcher said and there was something playful and adoring in her wrinkled eyes. "I could really use a man like you around. Would you marry me?"

Artie chuckled and tucked her files away before injecting her antibiotics into the IV line. "Sure thing, Mrs. Thatcher, just lemme go get a ring," he responded. With her stage of dementia, he knew she'd have forgotten in five minutes anyway. "I'll be back with that and we'll run away to Mexico, okay?"

"Hm-kay," Mrs. Thatcher said, relaxing back into her pillows and smiling as the antibiotics made her sleepy. Artie passed her off to the nurse and then moved on to his next call.

It was three hours of stitching cuts, treating burns, and putting casts on broken bones. He was so used to the patterns and rhythms that nothing could shake him. He thrived on this sort of work. He loved being with his patients and the speed challenge of keeping up with the never-ending parade of jobs to do. It was dinnertime before he even got another chance to relax and he slipped into the lounge for a cup of coffee to replace his flagging energy levels.

"You heading out?" Artie asked when he spotted Puck slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm off the clock, man," Puck responded. "Gotta get home to the family. I promised Beth I'd help her run lines for her school play after dinner. Aren't you leaving yet? You've been here for like a whole day now."

"Something like that," Artie agreed off-handedly, although it had actually been closer to a day and a half. "Nah, I'm gonna hand around a little longer. I'm covering Hudson's shift."

Puck laughed and shook his head. "You really want that attending job, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Artie said. "I like it here, in this hospital and in this city. I don't want to have to leave Cleveland. But that's not why I'm still here. I just like doing my job."

Puck brow furrowed suspiciously. "You're avoiding something," he concluded. "Your brother set you up on another blind date?"

For a minute Artie thought about denying it, but then he sighed and nodded. "Some girl who's a friend of a friend," he said. "I really wish he'd stop doing this. I know he means well, but I just don't have the time to worry about things like that. I can get dates for myself, no matter what he thinks. I just don't want to deal with that drama just now."

"Good plan, enjoy being single while you can," Puck said sagely. Artie knew where he was coming from; Puck had a kid early, right out of high school, and although he loved his family there was that part of him that never got to experience being the bachelor. "Hey, well, good luck with your dinner party."

"Yeah, thanks," Artie said unenthusiastically. Puck high-fived him on the way out and Artie finally turned his attention to the coffee pot. He'd had so many cups during his shift that he would probably die of caffeine poisoning, but it was the only way to keep himself awake.

And even though he wouldn't admit it to anyone else, he really was nervous about getting the attending job. He had pretty good competition in Santana Lopez, the arrogant and manipulative resident who was also in for the position. He might be the better doctor and he cared about his patients more, but she had a real talent for making people see things her way.

Artie downed the coffee so quickly he scalded his tongue, and then dove headlong back into work. In between setting a broken wrist and resuscitating a man in cardiac arrest, he got another marriage proposal from Mrs. Thatcher. Then it was a long circle of rounds before a car accident brought in three critically injured people at once. Artie was just cleaning himself up after stabilising them when his mobile rang. He answered it without checking the ID, already knowing who it was.

"Kurt, kind of busy," Artie said, shutting off the sink with his elbow and heading out into the hall.

"No, I don't think so, mister," his older brother responded in a clipped tone. "You promised you were going to come this time."

"I am going to come," Artie insisted, skilfully dodging to the side as a nurse with her arms full of supplies darted passed him.

"Then why are you still at work?" Kurt accused. "Dinner starts in one hour, Artie."

Artie glanced at the clock adn cursed under his breath. He hadn't realized it had gotten so late. "Sorry, we had an emergency," he explained.

Kurt snorted derisively. "It's the ER, there's always an emergency."

"I'm on my way," Artie said. "See you soon." Before Kurt could argue back, Artie snapped his phone shut and tucked it into the pocket of his scrubs. He rounded the corner and promptly ran headlong into the hospital director, Dr. Schuester. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sir," Artie said hastily. "I didn't see you there."

"You'll have to be a bit more observant from now on," Dr. Schuester said. Even though he sounded serious, there was something twinkling in his eyes that always made it difficult to tell if he was joking. "I expect my attending doctors to pay a little more attention."

"I'm sorr-" Artie froze midway through his sentence, his eyes widening as the statement sank in. He glanced up at the older doctor in surprise. "Attending?"

"If you still want the job," Dr. Schuester said diplomatically.

"I – yes, of course," Artie said eagerly. "Thank you, thank you so much, Dr. Schue."

"Now go home," Dr. Schuester said.

"What? But I've got another half hour left of my shift," Artie pointed out.

Dr. Schuester smirked at him. "You've been here for thirty-six hours now, Dr. Abrams," he said. "I think that's more than enough time for one shift. Go home and enjoy your weekend. You start your new position first thing on Monday."

"Thank you, sir," Artie said, shaking the older doctor's hand once before turning and heading back to the lounge. He grabbed his bag, changed from his scrubs to his street clothes in the nearest restroom, and then walked out to his car. The old Mazda whined as it turned on, and he hastily flicked on the windshield wipers to battle against the spring rainstorm.

He had just pulled off the highway when his mobile rang again. Impatiently, Artie leaned over and dug it out of his bag which was sitting on the passenger seat. He got just enough of a glance to see his brother's name on the ID before his car jerked roughly to the side. Artie dropped the phone in panic and sat up, gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands, but the damage was already done. The Mazda was hydroplaning across the slick roadway and he couldn't get it back under control.

There was a moment of stunning clarity as the world around him snapped into sharp focus. And then he felt the car swerve wildly into the opposite lane, the blaring horn of a diesel engine deafened him, and everything dissolved into white.