Chapter Text
Sunday morning, Troy wakes up and rolls over as two things dawn on him: one, it’s Halloween, and ‘B’, he shouldn’t be able to roll over in bed in the first place. Because he fell asleep last night at Abed’s dorm, more specifically in Abed’s bottom bunk, next to Abed after working on their costumes until like three in the morning. And if he’s rolling over, chances are Abed’s not there anymore. His arm reaches, knuckles hitting the wall a little too hard when he does. No Abed. Just wall. He huffs softly, blinks open his eyes. Definitely just wall.
“You slept in,” comes Abed’s voice from behind him. Troy rolls again, turning to look at where Abed’s on the floor next to the couch. His hands are working on painting the last of the Ellen Ripley lift-suit Troy’s wearing to the party tonight. “I was wondering if you were gonna wake up in time for the party.”
Troy moves to sit up, slowly. “In time for the- What time is it?”
Abed looks up, gives a small, momentary quirk of his lips. Troy smiles. “Only two. But you usually don’t sleep long after I wake up.”
“When did you wake up?”
“Around nine-thirty. I finished the Lucky Charms, but there’s some Rice Krispies.”
Troy straightens out a bit, and his back snaps, crackles, and pops. “Thanks,” he breathes out, pulling his shirt down from where it’s riding up his torso as he stretches, before he stands up and heads for the fridge. He spots the Alien helmet on top of said fridge, and he snorts a laugh as he gets the milk. “So we got about five hours until the party.” He takes the box of cereal to the table, where a bowl is already waiting for him. “We gonna be ready?”
Abed hums softly, and it sounds like a yeah-of-course sort of hum. “I’ve just gotta paint this bit and then spray it with finish. We’ll be ready.”
Troy finds a spoon in one of the drawers, and a bite of cracking cereal floating in milk is in his mouth two seconds later. Some dribbles down his chin. He’s really hungry. Sue him. “Cool.”
“Cool, cool, cool.”
He smiles. Again. He smiles a lot more before they’re walking into the party just after seven. Britta’s wearing some sort of lizard-dinosaur thing, and it looks really uncomfortable, but whatever works for her. He catches a glimpse of Annie in a red hood. Little red riding hood. Shirley’s either the princess from Sleeping Beauty or Glinda the Good Witch, and Jeff’s…Jeff with a soccer ball. F for effort.
Him and Abed have a bit planned. Some theatrics. Troy tells Abed it’ll help them get girls. Abed doesn’t look so sure, he thinks, but he agrees anyways. Says he’ll help Troy get the girls, if nothing else. It’ll be fun. Who doesn’t love getting saved from an alien by a hot guy in a lift-suit?
The pretty women Troy’s trying to get the numbers of, apparently.
Before he knows it, he’s walking up to soccer-Jeff with the age-old question, “How d’you do it?”
Soccer-Jeff rolls his eyes almost audibly, and he sighs. “Well,” he drawls in that too-cool-for-shit way, “I’m wearing a six-thousand dollar suit, and you spent three days making cardboard robot armor.”
Troy bites his tongue, only barely, with urge to say it was closer to a week, and he and Abed worked on it together. Clearly cooler than a crazy-expensive suit. “You’re saying they feel sorry for you.”
“I’m saying I remind girls less of taking their little brothers to comic-con.”
Troy blinks, looks down. Right. He forgets, sometimes, that normal people don’t think this is that cool. Well, not the dressing up part. Everyone’s dressed up (questionably minus soccer-Jeff), it’s Halloween. But the whole getting into character. The extra nerdy shit. He forgets that, when he’s with Abed. It just comes so naturally with him. And that’s chill. Except tonight, trying to get girls. He can’t be that, probably. Can’t do silly theatrics with Abed and ask for a girl’s number after. That doesn’t work. Probably looks dumb asking for numbers like this anyway. Matching with his best friend? Geez. Maybe he really needs a girlfriend. “Be right back.”
He moves to the door, pulls off the cardboard lift-suit outside and lets it sit near the stairs, before he heads back in and goes straight for the bathroom. Right. Girls. Women. Chicks. Not matching costumes with Abed. Sexy costume that gets girls. Books that girls like. Movies that girls like. Twilight? That’s got Dracula in it or something. Cool.
Cool, cool, cool.
Half a toilet paper roll and a toilet-seat cover later, he’s heading back out to the party. He spots Abed by the punch, and he’s going up to him before he can think to do otherwise. He needs a second opinion, he decides once he gets up to him and doesn’t know what to say. That’s why he’s here. To see if this is hottie-worthy for a Halloween costume. “Hey,” he says, adjusting the paper cover around his neck with the word ‘DRACULA’ scrawled on it.
“Hey,” Abed says right back, before he finally looks up from the punch and sees him. He adjusts the visor on his helmet, like he’s getting a better look. Troy smiles. Waits for approval. Or something. Instead, he gets, “Where’s your costume?”
Geez. Okay. That’s fine. Abed doesn’t get it yet. Doesn’t get that he can’t flirt with a girl if he’s attached at the hip to his nerdy guy friend who he cares about more than anyone in the world. Or whatever. “I’m trying something new.”
“But our costumes go together,” Abed insists.
That’s the problem, Troy doesn’t say.
“If you’re not in yours, I’m just a guy in a spandex suit and a bike helmet.”
Troy huffs. “Well, I’m a sexy Dracula.”
Abed tilts his head a little. “You mean vampire.” He gives him a look up and down. Troy swallows. Well. So much for the approval or support or whatever. Doesn’t matter. Abed probably didn’t pick up on it. Still stings.
“I don’t need to know which Dracula I am to be a Dracula.” He turns to go, and before his brain catches up with his mouth, he’s muttering, “Nerd,” under his breath and walking off. Fine. Doesn’t matter. Jeff knows what he’s talking about, even if he’s soccer-Jeff, so this is what Troy needs to do tonight. It’s. Fine.
It’s definitely not fine, actually. Especially not when Leonard starts zombie-ing and everything goes to shit. Troy just runs. He looks back once, then twice for a double take. Abed’s right behind him. Okay. Okay, okay, just run, run, run, run-
And that’s the dean locking them in. Oh shit. That’s great, that’s so damn great. Troy’s brain hurts from the internalized sarcasm as he runs again. He looks around again, looking for Abed. Not behind him. In front of him now, he realizes. He doesn’t really know what’s happening. He just follows after him and soccer-Jeff, feeling like he’s going insane in the chaos of biting and bodies and lady-bees getting punched.
They’re in the study hall, next thing he knows. He stares at the floor. Tries to breathe. All good, all good. Yep. Fine. He’s closing the blinds a moment later while Jeff tries to call the police or something.
“It’s the end of days,” Sleeping Shirley says somewhere in the room. Troy pretends not to hear it.
“It can’t be the end of days, it’s not twenty-twelve yet,” Chang argues. Leave it to him to play devil’s advocate or whatever at a time like this. And leave it to that banana guy that Troy can’t really remember the name of to freak everyone out, even if that’s not something he’s is sure he does or not. Whatever. Leave it to Jeff to argue with said banana guy, because he’s threatened since banana guy is pretty good looking.
“Shouldn’t we be barricading the room?” he speaks up when he can’t take it anymore. Because he just wanted to get a maybe-girlfriend, and now he’s shirtless in the study-room with a bunch of rabies zombies banging on the door. Abed starts to say something, before he stops.
“I will help you,” he says instead, and they move together. Like they always do. With everything.
“Wait, wait-” Banana says. “Before you barricade us in, I need to ask if anyone has been bit!”
Everyone looks around. Troy looks at Abed, who doesn’t look back. He just watches Banana as he continues.
“This pathogen spreads through bites, so if anyone has been bitten and you allow us to seal ourselves in here with you…you’re putting us all in danger.”
Abed nods once, and Troy watches as he does. He barely misses the go to barricade, but once Abed moves and he can’t see the curve of his nose from his side profile anymore, Troy moves after him.
“Are we really just gonna sit here?”
We’re barricading, not sitting, Troy doesn’t say.
“The army’s gonna be here in six hours,” Shirley says, and it kind of sounds like she’s trying to reassure herself more than anyone else.
“Why six hours?” Jeff, who no longer has a soccer ball Troy realizes, says irritatedly. “What, are they hosting the Oscars?”
Chang says something about Oscar Burns winner Jeff Winger. Troy rolls his eyes.
“Those people don’t have six hours,” Banana says. He knows his shit, and everyone looks at him. “Judging from the temperatures of those infected, in three hours…they’ll gonna suffer brain damage.”
Shit.
“Three hours after that, they’ll already be dead.”
Oh shit.
“We have to do something for them!” Annie speaks up.
Jeff scoffs. “Do something for the zombies?”
Annie ignores him. “If we lower the temperature of the building, would it break the fever and kill the virus?”
Banana blinks slowly, stares, then… “It might.”
Abed leaps onto the table a moment later, and suddenly he’s the centre of attention. Troy’s attention, at least. He doesn’t know if anyone else is looking. He is. “I know where the thermostat is.” He glances at Troy for just a moment, then Banana, and then he’s pointing. “Out there on the wall.”
Great. Fine. So great. Troy’s getting a headache and a bit of an overload, but he takes a breath. All good. All-
“Troy.” He’s staring at him now. Not just glancing. Staring. With those gentle brown eyes. It’s stupid, but that in and of itself scares him a little more than the zombie situation for a moment. “We have to rise to the occasion like Ripley, and kick monster bu-”
“No, I’m not Ripley, Abed,” Troy says before he can think of much else. Like there’s any girls around. But he has to commit, right? Play the role or whatever. Plus maybe Abed will stay if he does. “I’m a cool, sexy Dracula.” He looks at Jeff, because Abed does that thing where he doesn’t look sad, but he looks a little sad. “I make love to ladies, and I survive.”
“I’m with Troy,” Jeff says.
“Guys,” Annie says, a bit annoyed. “Those are not zombies! Those are our classmates, and they’re sick!”
“They can make us sick by biting us!” Troy insists. “The banana said so!”
Said Banana isn’t looking too good. “It’s true. Incubation only takes minutes.” He takes a breath, loud and heavy. “First you get a stomach ache, then your skin turns red. Cold sweats. Muscle spasms, high fever…the uncontrollable urge to bite uninfected flesh.”
“Oh, Jesus…” Shirley mutters. Troy looks at Banana more closely. He’s looking a little red. Might just be the light, right? Or the heat from the banana suit.
“I forgot on symptom…” he says after a couple seconds. Everyone waits with anticipation. “Ssssluuuurred speeeeech…”
He says it slurred, and it hits Troy like a truck. Everyone screams. Chaos. Panic. Britta’s bit. Been bit. Chang’s kind of stupid, gets Annie taken and bit, and Troy just yells. Looks around for Abed and yells. Shrieks until someone smacks his shoulder, and then he’s running after Jeff like a mad-man. ABBA’s still playing over the speakers, which somehow makes it all worse. His heart pounds in his head, but he glances back amidst the chaos. Abed’s still there. Running after him. All good. He’s good.
“Oh, cool. A dark basement. I was just thinking we should be doing this in a dark basement.”
That sounds like the end of a horror movie when they all die, Troy decides, but he manages to calm himself a bit as he closes his eyes for two seconds. Three. Maybe ten. Whatever. He opens them again and starts following Jeff (after making sure Abed’s behind him).
“Troy, why did you ditch your costume?”
And it’s so not the time for this. Troy looks back at his friend and answers anyway. “Why bring that up now, Abed?” he retorts with another question. Because he’s stupid. Because he doesn’t like admitting maybe it was a little shitty to do that without talking to Abed first. Or shitty to call him a nerd derogatorily afterwards. “We might die down here.”
“All the more reason to get this ironed out.”
Abed isn’t the type to let things go.
“You called me a nerd up there. What defines a nerd?”
He doesn’t look back.
“Committing to an awesome Halloween costume with your best friend? Is that what nerds do?”
Troy knows what he’s getting at. He did commit. Hell, he half-suggested it at first. That’s so damn nerdy. Matching with his best friend. It’s so damn- “I don’t know, Abed, because I’m not a nerd!” he snaps. “Which is why I’m not taking part in this nerdy conversa-”
“Shh! Nerds!” Jeff interrupts.
Jeff. The one who started this whole no-nerd shit. The one who called Troy out. The one who still sees him as a nerd. Does he see-
“Did you hear that?”
New fear fills Troy’s chest instead of the emotional panic of nerd-Abed-girlfriend things. Hear what, exactly?
There’s a screeching mewl, and Troy yelps. Grips the closest thing to him that provides comfort (Abed’s hand, but that doesn’t matter), before he takes a breath and lets go. Jeff laughs. “It was just a cat. Let’s keep moving.”
The cat in question is probably part demon, and they’re chasing it soon after Jeff’s statement. Maybe it’s also part angel, though, because they find a door to go back upstairs, and Abed takes initiative immediately. It’s something Troy’s always, well, admired about him. In the weirdest situations, he takes charge the best.
“Okay, that door should lead upstairs, the thermostat will be-”
“Enough with the thermostat, Abed!” Jeff snaps as he turns to look at him, and Troy’s stomach clenches. “This is not pretend-playtime-save-the-world time! It’s quarter past let’s-get-the-hell-out-of-this-building time!”
Troy takes a breath, chooses to ignore that for now, because saving the world or just getting out, they need to find an exit. Abed beats him to it. Gentle, observant eyes. “There. There’s a window.” He points. Troy follows his finger. “Alright, if we climb that fence, we can hoist each other against the wall and then squeeze through it.” He looks at Jeff with a slightly raised eyebrow, like he’s asking if that’s acceptable in a not-so-sincere way. He looks at Troy soon after, and his eyes soften a little.
“I vote we take the door,” Jeff says, and Troy’s confused. Because the door was where he was just arguing about going. And now…?
“He doesn’t wanna dirty his suit,” Abed explains, like he’s reading his mind.
Troy fights the urge to say ‘get out of my brain’, and he settles for an annoyed, “For real?”
“Clothes make a man, Troy,” Jeff says as he opens the door with his back to it. Like he’s telling Troy he’s not un-nerdy enough even now. Because he’s shirtless. Or whatever. Maybe he’s looking too much into it. Also it doesn’t really matter because, there’re a bunch of damn infected people when the door swings open, and they got him. Troy yells, and he reaches for Abed’s arm as he starts to run. Drags the other man with him. Jeff screams about his clothes as he gets turned. Abed’s gripping Troy’s hand now, and it’s somewhat grounding. Keeps him focused enough to not pass out, anyway.
Abed tells him to climb the shelf things, and he does. Tells him to keep going, he does. They’re not holding hands anymore, but the words are just as grounding. Keep him somewhat sane. Soon, they’re back around to the gate with the window. They barricade it with some big metal box, all they have, and when he looks at Abed again, he’s ready to boost him up. “Go.”
Troy shakes his head. Panic sets in, like it hasn’t before. New panic. Abed-panic. “I’m not going without you!”
Abed glances at the mass of zombie-rabid-people, before he meets Troy’s eyes. And if looks could kill has a positive cousin, that’s what this look is. “Troy, make me proud. Be the first Black man to make it to the end.”
Troy stares, tries to calm the panic, before he finally nods. He hooks his foot with Abed’s intertwined fingers, hoists himself up, and he’s free. Ready to go. But he stops. It’s not the time. So, so not the time. But he stops, and he turns to look down at Abed. “Abed!”
Abed’s eyes meet his, and he swallows. He nearly says he’s sorry.
“I love you,” comes out instead.
“I know,” leaves Abed’s mouth with no hesitation. Nerd moment. Troy hopes it’s not their last. He’ll make it up to him someday. Right now, he just screams. He screams as he moves away, and leaves his best friend behind.
The rest goes like a movie. He gets in, gets the lift-suit torn apart, is nearly at the thermostat. Nearly saving the world (school).
And then Abed’s got him. Abed bites him. And he deserves that, probably. Fair enough. Revenge for being a dick earlier with the sexy Dracula. He blacks out for a moment after reaching the thermostat, and when he comes to, Abed’s there. Looking at him. Watching him. He looks like shit. They probably both do. It’s what happens when getting zombified, probably. He wants to say something. He doesn’t. He just nods, and before he can change his mind, there are men in black walking into the building.
Everything goes grey.
~
He wakes up on a mattress that’s oddly familiar feeling. He moves his arms. His knuckles hit the wall, and he groans.
“You slept in,” Abed says, and Troy sits straight up.