Archive of Our Own

Abed could only remember feeling completely numb. He had feared this every single day since Troy had left, and yet it still didn’t feel real. He could feel all his friends around him. Britta’s fingers combed through his hair. Annie rubbed gentle circles into his back. Jeff held his hand, stroking over the back of it with his thumb. Shirley pressed a kiss into his knuckles, leaving a sticky mark from her lip gloss.

Abed’s head was loud. He couldn’t hear a word that Jeff was saying to him. He knew it wouldn’t help him feel better anyway. Troy wasn’t supposed to die. He was only 25, and it just wasn’t fair.

“I didn’t even get to tell him that I loved him…” Abed heard himself say, and all his friends whimpered, wrapping their arms around him tightly. Abed didn’t want to be hugged, though. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to cry, and then scream, and then maybe break something. And then pretend for a while that he didn’t exist.

He realized that his friends were probably hurting too, but he found it really hard to care about how they felt in the moment. He felt like was in a bubble. He thought Annie might have been talking to him but he had no clue what she said.

“Abed- did you hear me?” She waved her hand in front of his face gently.

“What?” He lifted his eyes slowly, not wanting her to look into them.

“Do you want to know what happened?” She repeated.

“Not really.” Abed swallowed, even though he really did. He wanted desperately to know what had happened to Troy, but he didn’t think he could stomach it. Not now, anyway.

She nodded, squeezing him in yet another hug, and everyone went back to their usual seats around the table.

Abed stayed frozen in his seat at the table, staring at the spot where Troy used to sit. His friends spoke around him, but he wasn’t listening. He figured they were talking about him anyway. He didn’t want to hear them talk about his mental state as if he wasn’t even in the room.

Abed wasn’t sure how he knew, but he knew how Troy had died. He could feel it. His heart ached as he imagined the fear Troy must’ve felt as the ocean dragged him down, unable to breathe. Unable to save himself. Abed wanted to be sick. Then he was. All over the floor.

…

The next couple days were a blur. Abed didn’t remember much aside from staring at the stain on the ceiling above the couch, from when he and Troy had tried putting Mentos into a bottle of Coca-Cola.

He didn’t even watch tv. He hardly ate anything, except for when Annie cooked for him. He didn’t have the energy to even microwave a bowl of noodles.

He thought a lot about life, and timelines, and wondered if there was a way to move to a timeline where Troy had never left at all. He knew that wasn’t realistic, but continuing to live in this timeline felt… impossible. At least for now.

…

A week later, Abed let Annie tell him what happened. He was mostly right. She explained gently and slowly that Troy and Levar had been ambushed and held captive by pirates, who had thrown Troy overboard when they realized that he had nothing to offer them.
Abed tried not to cry. Troy had been priceless to him, but these… these strangers had thrown him away like trash.

Abed finally cried. Annie held him close as he sobbed into her sweater, choking on snot and hyperventilating. She tried to soothe him, and offered breathing exercises, but not much helped. He didn’t stop crying until a few hours later, when Annie put her headphones on his head and played music for him.

…

Abed didn’t go to Troy’s funeral. There was no body, and Abed didn’t want to sit in a room full of people who were pretending to love Troy as much as he had.

His parents, cousins, brothers. People who didn’t really know him. People he hadn’t even told that he was leaving. Abed had his own funeral for Troy, boxing up a few of their memories and burying them under a tree at Greendale. He sat under the tree for a while. He had planned to say something for Troy, but he didn’t know what to say anymore.

He looked up at the sky, squinting from the sun. If this were a movie, it would be raining. It would’ve rained since the day Abed found out, and it would never stop raining again, as a reflection of his mood. But today the sun shone bright and birds chirped above. Troy would’ve liked it. He would’ve said that it was the perfect day.

“I love you.” Abed whispered to nobody. “Love. Not loved.”

…

Abed awoke with a startled jump. He sat straight up, looking around anxiously. He took a deep breath, realizing he was just in his room. He was sweating, which was usual in the heat of the Los Angeles summer, but his face was wet with tears. Fuck.

He took a drink from the glass of water by his bed and waited a moment for his heart rate to slow before rolling back onto the side to look at Troy.

Troy slept peacefully on his side, completely unaware of Abed’s nightmare. He snored softly, and Abed could feel his breath on his face. He had never been so pleased to hear Troy snore. Troy had only been back for a couple months, but clearly Abed’s anxiety was still running rampant. He used to have these dreams every other night. At least now they were only happening once every couple of weeks.

It’s okay, he told himself. Troy is here. Troy is alive, and safe, and he loves you. He isn’t going anywhere.

He rolled over again, scooting back until he could feel Troy’s breath on the back of his neck. Troy mumbled something and wrapped his arm over Abed’s waist, pressing a sleepy kiss to his neck. Abed closed his eyes, relaxing instantly in Troy’s arms.

Troy is safe.
He fell asleep.