Chapter Text
Troy Barnes was on his way to the Greendale Hospital when he really started to think about what he was doing.
As an athlete in high school, he never thought about going to therapy. Never even considered it. It was only when he found out his mother, who had cared for him all his life, had been getting private therapy sessions for years. When he confronted her, she had told him that having someone trustworthy to talk to really helped her.
That was how he found himself in the passenger seat of his mom’s car as she talked to him about what a great outlet this group therapy will be for him.
“It’ll be great, honey,” she assured him, “My first session was a group session, too. It really helps to be surrounded by so many people with similiar worries.”
“Yeah,”
“Ooh, they have cookies there, I know how you love those,” she smiled, “And the doctor is lovely! He’s british, too. That’s a nice change, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he said, then looked out of the window. He spotted a big green sign that read ‘𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭,’ with an arrow pointing in the direction they were driving. He swallowed as his mom continued talking for the rest of the ride, which was slowly coming to an end.
About ten minutes later, they arrived. His mom started to try and find a parking space, but Troy insisted she just dropped him off.
(”Still embarassed to be seen around me?” She joked.)
After a lot of unnecessary sqabbling, Troy’s mom finally drove away, leaving him alone outside of the Hospital. He stepped inside.
“Good morning,” the lady at the office said as soon as he entered.
“Uh- hi. I’m looking for…” Troy took a deap breath, “for group therapy.” The woman smiled.
“Second floor, room 7b.” She pointed at the elevator on her left. Troy curtly thanked her and made his way over. He pressed the button and waited.
As he did so, he spotted two others waiting with him. A blonde woman wearing sunglasses while rubbing her temples and a middle aged man texting someone on his phone. Troy distantly wondered whether they were also going to the therapy session when the 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 of the elevator sounded and the doors opened. Two teenagers stepped out as Troy and the strangers took their place.
The woman stood beside him and her eyes didn’t leave the ground until the elevator opened on the second floor. Troy left, took a quick bathroom break, then started to search for room 7b. When he found it and peeked inside, both strangers from the elavator were already inside, along with three others (four, if he included the person with the short black hair sitting in the corner).
Before he could even open the door, though, someone snuck up behind him.
“Hello,” A man said, his british accent evident in his voice, causing Troy to jump and turn around, “Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine. Are you the, uh, therapist..?”
“I prefer doctor, but yes,” The man nodded with a smile, showing off his uneven teeth, “Come on in.” Troy did just that.
His eyes immediately scanned the room. At the back, there was a small, white table with cookies (as promised) and cans of soda. On the right, there was a bulletin board covered in posters about both mental and physical health. And finally, right in the center, a circle of chairs.
First, he spotted the strangers from the elevator. They were sat beside eachother, the woman still staring at the ground, the man still texting away. Next to him sat a woman with a big purse in her lap, and next to her there was a pretty young woman with wide eyes. Then there was an empty seat, and then a man. A man with dark hair and brown skin, his expression unreadable, but his eyes almost overflowing with emotion.
Troy was fascinated.
“Alright!” The british doctor’s voice echoed through the room, snapping Troy out of his wierdly-cute-guy-enduced trance. He shook his head and quickly sat down between the wierdly cute guy and the girl with the big eyes. “Let’s get started, huh?” A few faint but affirmative noises were uttered, “Not a chatty bunch, are we? Let’s introduce ourselves. I’m Doctor Duncan; welcome to group therapy.”
After a slightly awkward pause, the man with the phone introduced himself, “Jeff Winger.”
“And why are you here, Mr Winger?” The british doctor asked.
“Faked a law degree, got caught. Now I might be a little depressed.”
“Good start. How ‘bout you, sunglasses?”
“God, don’t talk so loud…”
Duncan only laughed, “Rough night?” The woman nodded shakily. “And could that be a hint as to why you’re here?” She mumbled something incoherent under her breath, “Right. Okay. We’ll come back to you.” He looked to the woman with the purse.
“Oh, he-llo!” She broke up her syllables in a way that made Troy smile. “My name is Shir-ley Ben-net, and I’m here because I just went through a di-vorce.” She kept her cheery voice all the way throughout.
“Thanks for sharing, Shirley. Now, miss..?”
“Annie,” the girl said, “I’m here because I may have overused my aderall prescription.”
“Oh,” Jeff snorted and the girl glared at him.
“It wasn’t even that big of a deal! I just took a few more than I was supposed to so I could crunch for my exams, and apparently that makes me huge addict or something, which is a total exaggeration and-” She stopped to take a breath, and Doctor Duncan took the time to cut her off.
“O-kay. That’s- Okay! Next up,” he nodded towards Troy.
“Hi, I’m Troy. I’m here because… Uh…” And that was when Troy realised; he didn’t really have a reason. What was he supposed to say? That he was here because his mom said it might be good for him? He supposed that was kind of a pathetic reason compared to little Annie Aderall, so should he make something up?
“Troy,” Duncan said, voice stern, and Troy’s head snapped up to face him. “Troy. It’s okay. Not everybody needs a specific reason to go to therapy. Sometimes it’s just nice to have someone to talk to. Or, if you do have a reason but you aren’t comfortable sharing it just yet, that’s fine too.” Suddenly, Troy understood exactly why his mother loved going to sessions so much.
“Thanks,” He replied lamely. Doctor Duncan looked over at the wierdly cute guy. The guy only stared back, completely unfazed. It lasted for a good few seconds.
“Sorry, is this a social queue?” Wierdly cute guy asked, “I’m not great at those. My name’s Abed, and my dad sent me here because I really, really, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 like TV.”
“Huh,” Doctor Duncan said, “An odd bunch. That’s fine. Let’s begi-”
“Who’s that guy in the corner?” The wierdly cute guy Troy now knew as Abed interrupted. Everybody turned to the corner simultaniously.
“Oh, I didn’t even see him!” Shirley gasped.
“That’s Chang. He’s in time out.” Duncan explained.
“Wait, you do time outs here!?” Troy asked, incredulous.
“No, no,” Doctor Duncan laughed, “I just don’t like him.”
“Hey!” Chang turned his head.
“Turn back around, dickhead! Jesus Christ…” Duncan rubbed his temple, “He’s insane.” He added.
-
Before Troy knew it, it was time for a break. Everyone got up and helped themselves to the cookies (he recently learned they were from Shirley) and soda (from Annie, which meant the doctor really didn’t provide anything but insults against Chang). Duncan said it was a good chance to get to know eachother more casually, so that was what Troy did. Or at least tried to do.
He knew better than to try and talk to the blonde - Troy knew a hangover when he saw one. Jeff looked… unfriendly, to put it nicely, given the way he was 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 texting without a care in the world. So, first, he approached Shirley.
“Uh- hi, Shirley,”
“Oh, he-llo, Troy! How are you liking the cook-ies?”
“They’re really nice. Thanks for bringing them, really,”
“Aww, thank you Tro-oy!” He was a little confused as to why she had split up his one syllable name, but she beamed at him so wide he completely abandoned his train of thought.
He tried to move on to Annie, but she was aggressively drinking soda, her eyes twitching, so Troy guessed it wasn’t the best idea.
Which meant that Abed was next. He had no idea how to approach him; didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of this guy who he could only describe as wierdly fucking adorable and who was now staring at him with his head cocked to the side and Troy doesn’t know why except 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨!?
Abed looked at him for a moment longer before letting out a tiny laugh and passing Troy a soda. He accepted it with a flustered smile, face heating up.
“Welcome to group therapy.” Abed said, which made Troy think that he must have been before.
“This isn’t your first therapy session?” He asked.
“Oh, no,” Abed took a sip of his soda before continuing, “I’ve been going to sessions since I was 11.”
“Woah,” Troy whispered, but before he could continue, Duncan spoke up.
“Right, guys, break’s over. Finish Miss Bennett’ biscuits and get over here.”
-
It was nearing the end of the session, and Britta (the blonde woman, who had now taken off her sunglasses) was complaining about her parents, and how they were endlessly trying to buy her love.
“And- and they think it can just make up for, like, years of fucked up childhood!” She yelled, and Jeff stifled a yawn next to her. Somehow, she noticed, “Sorry, is this 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 you, Jeff?”
“Honestly? A little,” he joked, but put his phone away. Britta sighed.
“Whatever. I lived in New York,” Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes (that was the fourth time she had said that already), “Fine, fine! I’m done anyway.”
“Okay, well,” Duncan said, “That just about concludes our first session. I hope to see you all next week, and… Have a good one.” He then packed his notebook into his briefcase and left the room, leaving the seven barely-aquaintances alone.
“See ya next week,” Jeff said, grabbing his coat and leaving too. Britta followed behind him, shouting about her freedom of speach and his disrespect. Shirley said goodbye and collected her almost empty plate of cookies before leaving, and Annie cleaned up all the soda cans everyone had left behind. That just left Troy and Abed, and Chang who was still sitting im the corner, laughing maniacally under his breath.
“Sorry about earlier. That was embarassing,” Troy apologised as the two left the room.
“No, it’s okay,” Abed assured him, “I do embarassing stuff all the time.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Once, I mistook this man near my family’s fallafel stand for my dad, and tried to explain the whole plot of the first three movies from the Kickpuncher series in Arabic to him…”
They went on like this, sharing embarassing and funny stories, until they reached the car park, where Abed had to go the opposite way to catch a bus. They quickly exchanged numbers before parting and making their way to their respective homes. Troy’s mom was waiting im her car just outside of the carpark. No reason to pay for parking, she told him.
Later, when she asked him how it was, Troy just grinned and said, “There was a crazy guy in the corner.”
-
A week later, Troy was back at Greendale Hospital. He had taken the bus this time, since his mom was too busy to drive him. He was pretty sure he remembered which room it was, but asked the front desk lady just to be sure.
“Second floor, room 7b,” she told him. Troy spotted her name tag.
“Thank you, Vicki,” and she smiled wide as he walked away towards the elevator. Inside, he he was accompanied by Shirley.
“Hello, Troy,” she greeted cheerily.
“Hey,” he replied, “How was your week?”
“Oh, it was alright, dear. And I brought a lovely cake for today’s session and oh, goodness, is that Abed running towards us?” And it was indeed. He was sprinting to the elevator, waving his hands around as if to say ‘𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦,’ so without thinking twice, Troy stuck his hands between the slowly closing doors and held them apart. Within a few seconds, Abed had made it onto the elevator and Troy had removed his hands, letting the doors shut.
“Thanks,” Abed sighed, breathing hard.
“No problem,” Troy replied. Shirley stood behind the pair, gripping her cross necklace tightly.
“Je-sus Lord…” She muttered. Troy glanced at Abed, then chuckled.
“Sorry, Shirley. I didn’t want to be late.” Abed explained.
“It’s o-kay,” she assured him with a bright smile. The three of them then started some small talk, Abed slipping in a movie quote here and there, as Troy quickly learned he loved to do, until the elevator pinged to signal they had arrived on the second floor. “I’m just going to take a quick stop in the bathroom, I’ll catch up, boys,”
“Okay,” Abed said as they all stepped out. That left the two men walking to room 7b together. After a brief but awkward pause, Abed spoke up again, “Have you ever watched Punchkicker?”
“Huh? No,”
“Okay. Do you want to?”
“Uh- with you?”
“Yeah. I’ve got my own dorm at my college. And my own TV. I have lucky charms. Do you like lucky charms, Troy?”
“I do, Abed. And I’d love to watch… Kickpuncher with you.”
“Cool. Cool, cool, cool,”
Within a few minutes, the entire group was seated. Even Chang joined them this time, probably because Duncan was late. Chang quickly introduced himself, Britta immediately jumped in to start complaining about some political problems happening in Asia, while Jeff threw snarky remarks and flirty quips her way. Shirley and Annie giggled about something private (Troy could tell because they were whispering and glancing around every so often), and Troy listened happily to Abed rambling about Kickpuncher 1, 2 and 3.
“…And then he had to fight his evil arch nemisis, Punchkicker. There’s an epic fight scene and-” Abed was cut off by the door swinging open and a loud, british voice booming;
“Hello!” Duncan yelled, bursting into the room, “Welcome back, guys.” Troy noticed his voice was a little slurred.
Apparently Jeff noticed too.
“Are you seriously drunk right now, Duncan?” He scoffed.
“No, no. Beer doesn’t 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 count as alcohol, does it?”
“It absolutely does!” Annie argued, slapping a hand over her chest and pulling an outraged expression, “Maybe you’re the one who needs therapy.”
“Right. Okay. Didn’t you get hooked on Aderall?”
“Woah!” Shirley gasped, almost in time with Annie’s little ‘𝘶𝘩!’.
“Sorry, sorry,” Duncan threw his hands up in exasperation, “I didn’t mean that. Now, who wants to go first today?”
“Ooh, I will!” Britta chirped, “did you know the government is 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 people in Guatemala?” The entire group groaned.
“Boo! You’re the worst!” Someone yelled from just outside.
“Shut up, Leonard! I once mistook four people for you in a pharmacy!” She retorted.
Troy cocked his head, “who’s that?
“Jeff’s neighboor. He’s, like, 200.”
The group then “oooh”-ed simultaniously, Shirley starting on a lecture about premarital sex while Jeff and Britta protested, and Duncan only sat still with the expression of a man rethinking his entire life. Troy laughed; he was really glad he decided to come to group therapy.