Abed hates clip show episodes. They just sum up everything the audience already knows and regurgitate useless information. They can be fun when new moments are introduced but that just leaves him wanting more, wanting whole episodes of plots that never really existed.

But Abed does wonder what would be included in their clip show, the one about his friends and Greendale and all the crazy things they get up to. He’s curious about act breaks and dialogue. 

He wonders what would be important enough to leave in and what would get left out. Abed thinks about what points would expand on characterization, what would build the plot, and what would keep the audience engaged. What would leave people wanting more?

Abed hopes it’s a fan favorite. 

—––

The Art of Egg-celnt Egg Puns

Professor Kane assigns what he calls The Responsibility Project pointedly looking at the study group with a perfected hardened glare. He hands out the eggs carefully and says they have forty-eight hours to return them unharmed. 

Troy and Abed look at each other right away, doing their handshake. Shirley and Annie pair up, as do Britta and Jeff, while Pierce complains about being an only father. Abed isn’t surprised by any of it, except for maybe the fact that Britta didn’t pair up with a girl to prove her wokeness. 

Abed looks at Troy who is holding the eggs like it’s something precious and holds up a finger. “There’s a lot of sitcoms that indulge in something like this,” he says. “A lot of ways that this could go wrong.”

Troy nods, listening attentively. “If we leave it in the fridge overnight, someone could eat it. But if we aren’t careful, we could break it. It would be best to build it a little carrier and put it somewhere safe.” 

Troy nods again, cradling the egg with both his hands. “Cool. We should name it too,” he says. “Feel bad just calling it it .” 

Abed cocks his head to the side and thinks. “What about Alfred?” He asks. “After Alfred Hitchcock, one of the pioneers of modern cinema but also after Batman’s butler and pseudo-father figure?” 

Troy looks up from the egg, then back down at it, his thinking face on. “Sounds good to me,” he agrees. “I don’t think we should inflict strict gender roles on Alfred though, instead we should let him figure stuff out as he grows up.”

Abed clicks his tongue and shoots a pair of finger guns at Troy. “Cool. Cool cool cool.” He knows how much gender stereotypes did a number on Troy growing up, how he still feels the need to be a man today, and thinks it is pretty cool that Troy is willing to break that cycle for their egg. 

“Wanna hold him?” Troy asks, carefully holding up Alfred. 

“That’s okay,”  Abed replied. Troy is more coordinated than him thanks to years of football and a couple of semesters of dance. He trusts Troy to keep the egg safe. It suddenly hits him how much he really does believe in Troy, so much so that the air is almost knocked from his lungs. 

Abed takes a deep breath willing himself to relax and smiles, watching as Troy pulls the egg close to his chest again and holds it carefully. 

When Abed arrives at the study room later that day numerous supplies are laid across the tables. There’s felt, glue, fabric swatches, cardboard boxes, and more. Annie and Shirely are already busy at work building a small nest for their egg while Britta and Jeff argue about who needs to take their egg home. 

“How’s Alfred?” Abed asks, taking his own seat. 

“Good,” Troy responds. “He missed you.” Abed doesn’t really get how an egg could miss him, but friends don’t lie so Troy must be right. If Abed’s being honest with himself, he missed Troy more than the egg. 

“Oh and look!” Troy says, holding out Alfred for Abed to see. A little smiley face has been drawn on the egg with green glitter glue, clearly Troy’s doing with the way he’s beaming with pride. Abed leans closer to inspect it. 

“Cool,” Abed nods in approval. “Cool, cool, cool.” They go to do their signature handshake but freeze when Alfred gets in the way. Abed’s eyes widened, his hand now inches away from crushing it. 

“That is exactly the kind of trope we need to avoid,” he says, pulling his hand back and giving Troy a very pointed look. Troy pulls Alfred back to his chest, dark eyes full of fear. 

He looks spooked at the prospect of hurting their egg, but that doesn’t stop him from saying; “Don't you mean egg-xactly?” with a sheepish smile. Abed frowns. 

“No. I mean exactly,” he says, turning his head to the side in confusion. 

Troy just smiles wider. “Never mind. How should we start?” 

Abed grabs some supplies and lets Troy hold Alfred while he works since he seems hard-pressed on letting the egg go after their almost-crushing incident. Abed doesn’t blame him, Troy seems to have gotten attached to Alfred after spending all day with him. 

After an hour Abed has made a little blanket fort for Alfred made out of a shoe box, felt, and scrap fabric. Britta and Jeff have been arguing the whole time and their study group time is almost up. Even Pierce has gotten more done than them, wrapping his egg in bubble wrap. 

“All done,” Abed says, pulling his hands back from the project so that Troy can fit Alfred inside. Troy does this with careful precision, handling Alfred like he’s something precious. 

“We can do our handshake now,” Troy says, smiling wide. Abed nods, holding out his hand for Troy to slap twice. 

In the end, Jeff and Britta get a D, their egg so cracked and falling apart it’s hard to tell it was even an egg in the first place. Annie and Shirley get an A plus because of course they do.

Alfred gets Troy and Abed get a B. Troy walks out of the room beaming, cradling the little egg in his hands. 

One week later, when Jeff is staying over after a drunken movie night, he’ll wake up in the morning and accidentally boil Alfred. Troy cries and promises to never forgive Jeff even if they’re back to playing video games together a couple of hours later. 

Abed just hopes the audience is satisfied. It really everts expectations to have them pass and include a sitcom trope. But he’s happy with the ending. 

Seminar On Befriending Squirrels 

“Troy!” Abed hears Annie scream from inside the blanket fort. He can’t tell if it’s one of her angry screams or scared screams so he peeks his head out from the blankets to get a good look at what’s going on. 

His eyes widen as he sees the mayhem.  A squirrel is perched on their kitchen table, seemingly unbothered. Its gray bushy tail twitches back and forth and its big round eyes take in the room. 

“I got us a pet!” Troy beams, “He followed me home from the park! Or she, I haven’t actually checked.”

The squirrel skitters across the room and Annie screams, jumping onto a chair. Abed watches from afar but is ready to do the same if needed. 

“We can’t keep a squirrel as a pet,” Annie screams. Abed notes that she’s definitely angry and scared.  He kinda wishes he had popcorn right now. This is like a movie in real-time. 

Annie being afraid of rodents with one in their apartment is like something stolen straight from tv. Abed is just confused—he thought Troy was afraid of them too? At least, he was afraid of Fievel. 

“What do you want me to do?” Troy asks. He’s screaming now too, in the way he gets when he’s desperate. “Give Reggie Godzilla McFly Barnes away?” 

“Nice,” Abed comments. He’s mostly detached from the situation, just watching everything play out. Having a squirrel as a pet would be cool, but also messy and unpredictable. He might be on Annie’s side for this one. 

“Yes,” Annie cries. “Get rid of it!”

“He’s not an it,” Troy responds, voice a touch watery. “He’s a living, breathing, animal, and I love him!” 

“Well he doesn’t belong in our apartment,” Annie yelps as the squirrel climbs up Troy’s shoulder. Troy doesn’t even care, just gently pets it. “They have diseases and rabies and Troy ! This is ridiculous!”

“He loves me!” Troy sobs. 

“He’s a rodent! He’s basically a rat!” Annie says. 

“You take that back!”

“What? The truth?”

Abed figured this is as good a time as any to step in. He clears his throat. “Troy, don’t you think Reggie Godzilla McFly Barnes would be happier living outside?”

“But-”

Annie nods frantically. “What if he has a squirrel family he misses?” She asks. 

Troy sniffles. “Oh,” he mutters, letting Reggie scurry into his hands. “I didn’t think of that.” 

Annie takes a deep breath and carefully climbs down from her chair. She eyes the rodent with suspicion. “Why don’t we buy him some nuts and then release him back to the wild?”

Troy nods, hugging Reggie close. “Okay,” he agrees. Abed goes to change out of his pajamas. Today’s episode is gonna be epic. 

Advanced Anaphylaxis 101

Abed’s diet normally consists of buttered noodles, sugary cereal and popcorn and Annie worries about it. Once she moved into 303 she took it upon herself to introduce new things into both of her friends' diets and half the time, Abed tries a bit before turning it down so she’s mostly satisfied. 

But tonight, ten minutes into buttered noodles and a side salad, Abed hasn’t been able to stop coughing. Annie has this weird feeling in the back of her head that something’s wrong but she doesn’t quite know what yet. 

“You okay buddy?” Troy asks as Abed takes another sip of his orange soda and swishes it around his mouth. The can is almost drained even though they just began dinner. 

Abed nods, clears his throat, then takes another sip. He’s barely touched his noodles and has only had the three obligatory bites of salad. 

“I can’t stop coughing,” Abed says, stating the obvious. Annie frowns and looks at Troy with worry, who seems just as concerned as she is. 

“Have some water,” Annie replies, handing over her glass. 

Abed drains the whole thing in one go, just to start coughing again as soon as he sets it down. He screws up his eyes in pain and takes a deep breath. Annie feels a bit useless even with all the medical information swarming around her brain. All she can do is just sit and watch.

Abed takes another, much more shallow deep breath, and then his eyes snap open. They’re wide and panicked in a way Annie’s never seen before. “I can’t breathe,” he says, his face so clearly reading help me that even someone untrained in Abed’s mannerisms could tell someone’s wrong. 

“What?” Annie asks, her calm demeanor turning frantic. 

“I can’t breathe,” Abed repeats. Now that Annie recognizes it, she can clearly see the rapid rise and fall of Abed’s chest, the way he’s shaking, and how he’s struggling to speak. “I-I think, I think I’m having an allergic reaction.”

“What?!” Annie exclaims. She jumps from her chair at the same time Troy does and they both look at each other with pale faces. 

“But-that-you,” Troy starts, his hands flailing at his sides in the way they always do when he’s nervous. “You didn’t eat any walnuts or pecans or almonds or-” 

“Yes you did,” Annie cuts him off, shell-shocked. “In the salad. In-in the dressing, oh my god.” 

Annie feels her heart drop and the room spin. She feels like a failure like she should get an F in friendship and that she would deserve it too. She totally forgot about Abed’s allergy since he only ever really eats three things. 

“I can’t breathe,” Abed says, again, a lot more strained than earlier. He puts a hand on his chest and coughs again. It spurs Annie into action. 

“Where’s your EpiPen?” She asks. 

“Bathroom,” Troy supplies, sounding close to tears. Annie knows she can’t rely on him right now, that Troy always panics in an emergency so she heads to the bathroom herself and finds the EpiPen under the sink. 

Annie’s hypothesis rings true when she returns to the kitchen. Troy is nearly as breathless as Abed and he is jumping up and down which means he’s really freaking out . 

“Annie,” he cries, voice somehow higher than hers. “Do something!” 

“I am!” She screams right back, reading over the directions. Abed is just sitting there, stiff, chest heaving with tiny desperate breaths and waiting. It must be taking all his energy to do so, because he no longer looks as scared as he was, but Annie can tell he is freaking out. 

“Do it faster!” Troy shouts, running around the room frantically. It would almost be funny if they weren’t having an emergency right now. 

Instead, Annie kind of wants to strangle him because she’s going as fast as she can . But Troy is crying and she doesn’t really have the energy to be mad right now anyways. 

“Hold his hand,” she instructs, uncapping the EpiPen. 

“C’mon, c’mon,” Troy hisses, but he does seem to have calmed down after having been given something to do. He leans down next to Abed and squeezes his hand so tight Annie can see it turning white from where she stands. 

“Ready?” She asks Abed. He nods and squeezes his eyes shut. 

Then Annie does her job like any good friend and medical professional. She stabs Abed in the thigh with the EpiPen and holds it there for ten seconds. 

Almost immediately Abed starts breathing easier. He slumps a little and clears his throat before looking at Troy, then at Annie with wide shocked eyes and raised brows. 

“I’m never eating anything you make for me ever again,” he says like he’s commenting on the weather and like he didn’t just almost die. His voice is hoarse and gravelly. 

“Oh my god,” Troy sobs, because Abed is being Abed again and also he can breathe . Annie steps away to call 911 as Troy keeps crying.

Advanced Anaphylaxis 102

Abed is acting a little annoying but mostly endearing. Annie wondered if she acted the same way when she was on Adderall; hyper and giggly. She knows it’s the leftover adrenaline from the EpiPen, but she’s never seen Abed act this way before. 

He’s almost manic in a way, tripping over his words and smiling goofily. He can’t seem to stay on one topic for more than five minutes, jumping from Batman to Inspector Spacetime to something about how the production design of their apartment really spoke to each of them as a character . 

He’s walking around a lot too, pointing things out and giggling at them. As much as Annie knows she should be annoyed, she’s just happy he’s okay. 

“Remember when we bought this comic?” Abed asks, holding up a spider-man comic to show off. Troy walks up, takes it from him, and smiles. 

“Yeah,” he responds. “It was a really nice day that day.” That’s the other thing, Troy has finally stopped crying. It took the ambulance coming, giving Abed the all-clear and another fifteen minutes for him to calm down. 

“We need more comics,” Abed says, “More spider-man comics. Annie, you would like Spider-Gwen. Some people say she comes off as a cringey OC but I think she’s cool.” Abed stops to do Spider-Man’s signature hand motion and little a thwip .  “She's a badass.” 

Annie just nods, putting back the Matrix DVD Abed had pulled out ten minutes ago and never actually put on. There’s a number of those he left out actually, and despite being told many times not to touch his stuff, Annie doesn't think he’ll mind too much this time, especially since he doesn't even seem to realize he’s doing it. 

“Can we play spider-man?” Abed asks, looking down at Troy hopefully. He’s jumping up and down on the balls of his feet. Annie has never seen Abed like this before and she is constantly fighting the urge to aww .

She does frown though at that Spider-Man idea. It sounds like a lot of trying to hang upside down and sticking to the wall, something they really don’t need right now. “I dunno,” She mutters, throwing Troy a sharp look. 

Troy pouts at her but Annie doesn’t back down. He gives in relatively quickly. 

“I’m not really feeling it,” Troy mutters, clearly disappointed. Abed deflates and stops jumping. 

“Can we watch spider-man then?” Abed asks, “I know how much you love Spider-man. I want you to be happy.”

“Aww,” Annie and Troy coo at the same time. 

“I want you to be happy though,” Troy says gently bumping Abed on the shoulder. Abed cocks his head to the side at that. 

“But you were crying earlier,” he points out. “Crying means you’re sad. I’m not. I don’t need cheering up.” Annie purses her lips. She would need comforting after an anaphylaxis shock, but Abed is a different breed. She feels her heartache. It’s easy to forget how much Abed cares so much, but right now he’s almost completely unfiltered and his love is pouring off him in waves. 

Troy looks to Annie for help, a little frantic. They both just wanna make Abed feel better right now. 

Annie quickly steps in. “Seeing you happy will make us happy,” she says. Abed nods, seemingly satisfied. 

“Oh, cool,” Abed mutters. “Cool, cool, cool. Can we watch The Matrix ? I feel like I’m in the one right now.” Annie sighs and goes to get the DVD she just put away. Abed smiles wide and unabashedly, shaking his hands excitedly, so it makes it worth it. 

Troy snorts. “If you’re like this from one EpiPen I would love to see you high,”

“Hey!” Annie pouts at him. 

“I have been high before actually,” Abed says, making both of them stare at him in shock. He doesn’t even seem to notice though as he keeps talking. “Kids in 80s movies do it all the time so I wanted to try. It was cool but I kept stimming and everyone got weirded out.” 

“Well,” Annie starts, straightening up and handing Abed the DVD. “Drugs are bad anyways.”

“No, man, that is epic !” Troy says, a huge smile on his face. He claps Abed on the shoulder. “We have got to get high together sometime.” 

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool.” Annie purses her lips and goes to make popcorn. 

When the three of them sit down Abed surprisingly snuggles up to both of them. He puts his head on Troy’s shoulder and tucks his feet off the floor, onto Annie’s legs. 

He doesn’t touch the popcorn in front of him, just keeps trying to offer up fun facts about the film. He says things like; “This whole film is a trans allegory,” and “both directors dropped out of college” but they come out mumbled.

He falls asleep thirty minutes into the film (before what he would call the first act even came to an end). The adrenaline finally drains from his body and leaves him utterly exhausted, unable to keep his eyes open. He fully lays down and ends up with his head in Troy’s lap and stretched out across Annie. 

Troy runs his fingers through Abed’s hair and gives Annie a small smile as she turns down the volume. “Sorry about today,” he mutters. 

Annie frowns. “What do you mean? The almonds were my fault.” She feels incredible guilt about that and can’t help but think that maybe she should have never meddled with their diet in the first place. 

Troy shakes his head. “No, for yelling at you and freaking out and-” tears gather in his eyes and he blinks to try and will them away but that only makes them fall faster. It really hits Annie then that Abed could have died today. She sniffles too.

“Troy,” Annie says softly, reaching across Abed to grab his hand. “It’s okay. We were all kinda freaked out.” 

Troy nods and squeezes her hand. “I don’t blame you by the way,” he says softly. Annie furrows her brows in confusion. “For the salad. Stuff happens and everyone’s safe now.”

Annie nods, a lumping forming in her throat. She rests her head on the back of the couch and closes her eyes, the anxieties of today slowly leaving her body. 

In the morning she’ll wake up to a sore neck but also her two best friends snuggled close, so it’s all worth it. 

Cordial Corrections

Abed overhears Frankie and Britta talking in the library. He knows it’s bad to eavesdrop so he’s about to keep walking until he hears his name, and then he figures it’s fair game. He waits for whatever rude, borderline infantilizing thing Britta will say about him that Frankie will then chide her for and wave off. 

However, Abed is pleasantly surprised when he hears Britta explaining why the way Frankie refers to her sister is outdated and problematic. He decides he doesn’t need to stick around any longer. Britta’s got this one figured out. 

Navigating Nightmares

Troy is tossing and turning in the bunk above him. Normally Abed would have told him to stop by now, but it’s Troy and Troy is always accommodating to him so Abed is accommodating back. 

Besides, Troy is actually super cool. He likes Batman, comic books, and playing dress-up with Abed. He treats Abed like an equal and not like a little kid or less than others because he’s weird. 

Troy is probably the best of all of them. So Abed sacrifices his sleep for him. 

It’s probably a good twenty minutes later when he hears a loud gasp and what sounds like Troy sitting straight up in bed. There’s some whimpering soon after and Abed frowns. 

“Abed?” Troy’s voice is quiet and timid like he’s afraid to wake the other man up. “Are you awake?” He doesn’t like the way Troy sounds right now, it’s making him worried. 

“Yeah,” Abed says, staring at the top of his bunk and wondering what Troy is doing right now. 

There’s no response for a while until; “I had a nightmare.” 

“Oh,” Abed’s not sure how to react, not sure how Troy wants him to react. 

When he had nightmares as a kid he would go to his mom crying. She’d just send him back to his room and bring them up at the next doctor's appointment so eventually Abed learned not to go to her anymore. Now his nightmares are about people leaving, about being stuck in a locker forever, about his friends locking him inside a cabinet and forgetting about while he wastes away. 

Abed wonders what Troy dreams about—his good ones and his bad ones. “What was it about?”

“My dad,” Troy swallows thickly and doesn’t elaborate. “I-I don’t-” he starts but cuts himself off. Abed waits and lets Troy collect his thoughts. He doesn’t push. “I don’t wanna be alone right now.”

That puzzles Abed for a second, because Troy’s not alone, they’re in the same room, and in the bunk bed. But then he realizes what Troy really means. 

“Do you wanna sleep down here?” Abed asks. He hears Troy let out a heavy, shaky sigh, so he must have guessed right. 

“Can I?”

“Yeah,”

Troy clambers down the bunk bed ladder with surprising grace. Abed props himself up with one arm and opens his blankets with another. 

“Sorry for waking you,” Troy mutters. 

“Don’t apologize,” Abed is quick to reassure as Troy climbs into the bed with him. It’s a tight squeeze but Abed doesn’t even find himself minding. Normally he doesn’t like people touching him, but with Troy it’s different. Everything is different with Troy. 

They face each other and Troy snakes an arm around Abed’s waist. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Abed asks. 

Troy shrugs. “My dad is… not the best person,” he swallows thickly and tears gather in his eyes. “He’s no darth Vater but he’s not Gomez Adams either.” Abed really appreciates when Troy talks in film and tv references to him. It makes everything easier to understand, especially emotionally charged moments like this. 

“So, more like Matilda’s parents?” Abed asks. 

“Yes? No? I dunno,” Troy sniffles pathetically. “He’s my dad and I love him but he’s also an asshole.” 

Abed nods. He gets wanting love and attention from asshole parents well. It fits Troy's character and the way he’s always trying to impress Jeff. He gently wipes the tears that have started falling from off Troy’s cheeks. 

“We’ll be better parents,” he tells him. Troy nods earnestly. 

“We won’t force our kids to do things they don’t wanna do,” Troy says. 

“Or abandon them for being different,” 

“Or yell at them,”

“Or call them names,” Abed agrees. 

“Or kick them out,” 

“Or start a new family without them,” 

Troy frowns for a second like that one really throws him off guard but then he laughs, his nose scrunching up adorably. “We’re really messed up,” he snorts. 

“Yeah,” Abed agrees, smiling himself now. “But it gives us backstories and character growth.” 

Troy’s giggles taper off and snuggle closer to Abed. “Thanks,” he mutters. “I think I can sleep now.” Abed wraps his arms around Troy too, breathing him in. He smells like toothpaste and chocolate pop tarts because Troy will always brush his teeth and then have a snack twenty minutes later. 

Abed falls asleep after Troy, making sure he has a more peaceful sleep. Neither of them wake until the sun is shining through the curtains, signaling mid-day. 

Studies In Screenings

Abed needs a test audience for one of his new films that he plans to send to the film festival circuit. He needs non-partial opinions so all of the study group is out. 

Troy and Annie will say they love it, Britta will say there isn’t enough social commentary, Jeff won’t even be bothered, Shirley will be upset with the lack of religious imagery and Pierce would just be confused. 

So Abed ends up with the dean, Neil, Magnitude, and Frankie all piled into one room. For some reason, Chang is there despite not being invited but Abed doesn’t fight it. The more opinions the better. 

The credits roll and Abed looks at everyone expectantly, pen and paper ready. 

“Pop, pop,”

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool, noting that down. Frankie?”

Frankie frowns. “I didn’t really get it. Robots-”

“Artificial intelligence,” Abed corrects. 

“Yes right, artificial intelligence could never achieve something so complex as the emotions they feel in your film,” Abed nods and writes it down but doesn’t take too much of her input to heart because Frankie doesn’t even own a television. 

“I liked it,” Garret speaks up. “And I like that the AIs had such strong emotions, sometimes even more than their human counterparts. It speaks to how we never really know what someone else is feeling.” 

Chang purses his lips. “It’s good but it’s no Robots .” 

“The 2005 animated film with Jennifer Coolidge?” Abed asks, pointing a finger at Chang who nods. 

“Yeah, that movie just really speaks to me,” Chang replies. “But I guess this is good too.” 

Abed writes down the notes, noting that I guess this is good too is Chang’s weird way of showing affection. As much as Jeff dislikes the other man, they’re oddly similar in their distaste for showing that they care about, well, anything. 

The dean crosses his legs and leans forward. “I dunno,” he starts. “I don’t think there were enough dalmatians. Or Jeffery.” 

Abed frowns. There was no Jeff and no dogs in his film. “Elaborate?”

Culinary Arts

When Jeff agreed to have dinner and a movie with Abed he figured there would be some kind of movie homage involved but he didn’t expect this . 

303 is decorated for Christmas, and Hanukkah. There’s a tree with Batman ornaments and a pink menorah by the door. Annie’s crafting skills must really be coming along since there’s also a macaroni rendition of Jehovah on the wall. 

It starts with a glass of special drink which Jeff begrudgingly tries while Abed cooks what looks like buttered noodles. It doesn’t taste awful but it doesn’t taste good either and it feels weird going down his throat. When Abed’s not looking he tries to pour it down a potted plant only to learn it’s one of the fake ones Annie is so fond of. 

Eventually, Abed sets down two steaming bowls of pasta and Jeff relaxes, grabbing his fork.  

“Wait-” Abed says, heading back to the kitchen. He reappears with bags of M&M's, marshmallows, sprinkles, pop-tarts, and more. 

“Uh,” Jeff starts. “I normally save dessert for after dinner.” Not true, Jeff normally doesn't eat dessert at all but now isn't the place or time.

“No, this is dinner,” Abed replies and then upends the bag of marshmallows on his pasta.

“Woah, woah, woah” Jeff screams, jumping up and away from the table as Abed puts on the M&M's on next. His pants cost about two hundred dollars, no way is he getting gross, sticky, candy on him 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He stares, eyes wide as Abed opens the sprinkles and gets ready to pour. Jeff knocks them out of his hands and across the room, spilling the colorful sugar everywhere.

Abed frowns. “Making us dinner,” he explains like it makes all the sense in the world and he’s tired of explaining himself. He blinks up at Jeff, then looks back down at the food.

“This isn’t dinner,” Jeff yells. “This is diabetes waiting to happen! And stop that!” He takes the maple syrup and chocolate sauce away too before Abed can do any more damage. “What is going on?”

“I thought we could eat what Buddy does in Elf while we watch the movie,” Abed explains. Jeff sighs, because really he should have seen this coming. 

It’s December first which basically kicks off Christmas for Abed. He always seems to get a little more clingy and a little more… Abed-y around the holidays. Jeff knows all too well the fears of abandonment.

He shakes his head as he takes in the candy, poptarts and spaghetti all over the floor. “How about this,” he starts. “I’ll order a salad, you can eat this dentist's worst nightmare and we can both still watch Elf together?”

Abed thinks about it for a second and Jeff prepares to turn down another one of Abed’s wild ideas. 

Instead, Abed asks; “Can I just have buttered noodles?” 

Jeff sighs. “Yeah, Abed,” he replies. “That sounds fine.” 

“Cool,” Abed nods, “Cool, cool, cool.”

Then he quirks an eyebrow at Jeff. “I knew you were more of a Walter than a Buddy,” he says and starts to clean up. “But Annie told me you’d really like the special pasta.”

Jeff sighs and helps Abed discard their ruined meal. “Yeah, well, Annie lies,”

Bird Watching

Craig hears people call Abed things like emotionless and weird and yells at them to stop. It just makes him feel guilty in the end however, considering he used to do the same thing. Now though, not so much. 

They talk about video games and movies and which characters might be queer. Surprisingly, he’s found a good friend in Abed. He gets people ways others don’t. Abed is emphatic, maybe even more than most people. 

So when Abed invites Craig to go bird watching, he surprisingly doesn’t say no. They have a nice time, spotting bluejays, woodpeckers and robins. Like it seems to be with most things, Abed does not just like birds. He’s fascinated by them, saying as many fun facts as he can remember and reading from a book he brought along. 

Craig likes it. It’s a side of Abed he hasn’t gotten to see before, maybe even a side just for him. 

Journalism for Junkies

“ Troy and Abed in the morning ,” Troy and Abed sing together, smiling at imaginary cameras and then back at Britta. She turns her attention to the very real crowd behind the study room. 

She wonders how they pulled that off, why so many people are holding signs like hi mom and I love you Troy . In fact, she thinks she sees someone from her music theory class. It doesn’t make any sense to her, it’s not like this is being televised or anything. But then again, this is Troy and Abed, so really, anything is possible. Chaos just tends to follow them. 

“So, Britta,” Abed starts, pulling her attention away from the crowds. It’s a little weird, seeing such a perfected smile on his face but Britta just smiles right back. 

“You’re here to tell us about your brownie recipe, right?” She actually doesn’t know why she’s here and that is certainly the last thing she thought Troy and Abed would be asking her about. Brownies? Why not cats or psychology or the multiple wars going on across the world?

Britta sighs. “Yeah, sure,” she says, a little disappointed. Shirley would have been a better fit for this topic so she’s more than a little confused. 

“Tell me,” Troy smiles, cheating out to the non-existent cameras “What makes your brownies so delicious?” He gives a weird, over-the-top, fake laugh. 

Britta shrugs. “I just make them like any other person,” 

Troy and Abed don’t say anything in response but do lean forward as if waiting for more. “I mean, sometimes I use a box mix.” She supplies, hoping that will quell their curiosity.

“Yes, but what about any special ingredients?” Troy asks, winking at the cameras. 

Britta’s eyes widen because it hits her then why Troy and Abed invited her on their show to talk about something she clearly knows nothing about. It takes everything in her not to flip out and scream at them, especially since there’s a crowd right outside and a reaction is exactly what they want. 

Her special brownie ingredient is not something that she needs everyone to know. 

“Nope, Bob Hope” Britta smiles, popping her p. “It’s all-natural. Other than the box mix stuff.” She shrugs, hoping they can’t see her sweating. 

Abed purses his lips but just nods along. “Well, folks at home-”

“You lying, sinner, junkie,” all three of them jump to see a furious Shirley entering through the other door of the study room. “You know damn well what’s in those brownies, Britta.” 

Britta stands from her seat, eyes wide. “Shirely,” she starts. 

“It’s weed!” Shirley cries. “Marijuana! Mary Jane! The devil's lettuce!” Britta shakes her head rapidly, but really, at this point, there’s no use in denying it. 

Over Shirley's shoulder, Britta can see Troy and Abed giving each other panicked looks. Troy jumps from his own seat and plasters a wide, unnatural smile on his face. “That’s all the time we have left today!” He says.

“You are ruining baking!” Shirley cries. 

“I’m making it better!” Britta shoots right back. 

Troy steps closer to what Britta can only imagine where the fake cameras are. He has to almost scream to be heard over the argument she’s currently in. “Thanks for watching! See you next week!” 

“You take that back,” Shirley threatens. 

“And we’re out,” Abed says, no longer his newscaster persona but back to regular old Abed, voice monotone and face expressionless. He steps between Shirley and Britta and the latter finds herself relaxing in relief. 

“You guys did a great job,” he says. “Very in character, perfect for views and ratings.” 

“Abed!” Britta and Shirley snap at the same time. 

“What character?” Shirley asks, still furious. 

“What views?” Britta sighs, beyond exacerbated. She should have known agreeing to something like this would end in a train wreck. 

“I swear to God,” Shirley starts, looking over at Britta. “Sometimes we’re the only sane ones here.”

“Tell me about it,” Britta replies, watching as the group of people outside start filing out. 

Shirley shakes her head and watches them too. “You know,” she starts, her voice soft in the way it gets when she’s nervous she’s about to be turned down. “I could always teach you to make brownies that aren’t from a box.”

Britta turns around to look at Shirley, already smiling. “Really?”

“Of course pumpkin,” Shirley responds and places a comforting hand on Britta’s arms. “Just as long as you don’t put any drugs in them.” Her voice drops and she raises her eyebrows threateningly. 

“No, of course, I would never.” Britta agrees, and she actually means it this time. Most of her diet consists of easy-to-make microwave meals and take-out. If there’s someone willing to teach her to branch out, then she’s all ears. 

Shirley offers her arm with a small smile and Britta accepts, the two of them walking from the study room side by side. 

“What just happened?” Troy leans over and asks Abed from where he had been watching the whole interaction unfold. 

“I’m not sure,” Abed responds honestly. “But I want brownies.” 

Healing Hide & Seek 101

A school-wide game of hide and seek is so very Greendale that Troy doesn’t even question it. 

For some reason, Jeff is the seeker. Troy wonders how the dean managed to blackmail him into that one but doesn’t question it for long so he can look for a hiding spot instead. 

He finds one in the closest air conditioning closet, pulling Abed along with him. He locks the door as Abed turns off the light and holds up a finger to his lips. 

Troy ventures further into the small room to see if there’s a place he can hide from view, just in case. He’s small and numerous high school dares have proven that he can fit in tiny spaces. Plus the winner gets first dibs on dining hall food for a week and there’s no way Troy is losing this. 

Troy finds an opening between one of the air condition vents and the wall that is just big enough for him to fit. In the dark, it’ll be nearly impossible to see him. Perfect . 

Abed watches him silently as he shimmies in and then sits on the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Hiding,” Troy says. “And shh, don’t let us get caught.”

Abed doesn’t respond, just keeps standing and staring. It’s making Troy a little uncomfortable, even more so than he already feels pressed up against two immovable objects. 

“Come hide with me,” he whispers. Abed cocks his head to the side, clearly thinking, but eventually walks over. He sits across from Troy, several feet away. 

Troy frowns. “That’s not hiding,” 

Abed scoots closer but only by about a foot or so. “This is good,” he replies. While he doesn’t look away, Troy notices that he’s not making eye contact either, eyes trained somewhere behind Troy rather than on him. 

Troy frowns but doesn’t push it. Abed is usually right about these kinds of things and they need to stay quiet anyways so that they don’t get caught. 

But not talking is hard. He squirms, clears his throat, and taps his fingers on his leg. Abed is abnormally still, knees pulled up his chest. He’s always fiddling with something or moving around. 

Then Troy notices the rapid rise and fall of Abed’s chest. It’s barely even noticeable in the dark with the way Abed has curled in on himself. Troy frowns. 

“You good?” Troy asks. Abed shakes his head no, an almost indindishable high-pitched whine escaping his throat. 

Troy’s eyes widen and he scrambles out of his spot to approach his friend. He doesn’t touch, just in case, but sits nearby.

“There’s not a lot of room in here,” Abed mutters, frantically looking around. “It-what if we run out of air?”

Troy’s brows furrow in concern. “We won’t,” he assures. 

Abed looks towards the door and then shakes his head again. “No, no, I think we need to go,” he stands up with all the grace of a newborn foul and starts tugging on the door but seems to forget it’s locked. He keeps yanking at it anyways. 

Troy gets to his own feet and forces his way out of his hiding spot. “Abed, buddy, let me help.” 

Abed doesn’t even seem to hear Troy. He just keeps trying to open the door while hyperventilating. Troy approaches and lets his hand hover over Abed’s shoulder. 

“It’s locked,” Troy says gently, not entirely sure how to help. “You need to unlock it.” 

“No, I need to get out,” he snaps through his teeth, not even looking at Troy who recoils at his words. Abed’s eyes are pinned to the doorknob, his body stiff despite his shaking. 

“Abed-”

Abed cuts Troy off when he starts screaming, high-pitched and frantic. He puts his hands to his ears and squeezes tight. It almost looks painful. Then he drops to the floor and starts rocking back and forth. 

Troy turns the lock with one smooth movement. He doesn’t really care about winning anymore, especially not with the way Abed is acting. Light filters through the room and Abed seems to relax, if only slightly. 

Troy drops down next to him. “Hey buddy,” he consoles. “What’s going on?” 

“Room, need more room,” Abed gets outs, though his voice is weird and garbled. 

Troy takes a heavy breath, “Okay,” he starts, “Let’s head out into the hallway okay?” Abed doesn’t respond for a long time, long enough that Troy wonders if he should repeat himself or call for help or just forget it but eventually Abed nods. 

Troy goes to help Abed to his feet, but Abed recoils from his touch. Troy frowns, more than a little hurt but lets it go in favor of what’s best for his friend. Abed stumbles up and into the hallway. 

It’s dark out there too but thanks to the game of hide and seek no one’s around. Troy’s not sure about Abed, but he hates being seen breaking down. It’s embarrassing, emasculating, all the things his dad has taught him not to be.  

He doesn’t think that of Abed, of course, would never, but Troy knows poor self-esteem all too well. 

“Wanna go to your dorm?” He asks. Abed nods, still plugging his ears and holding himself tight. Troy lets him lead the way, squaring his shoulders to try and look intimidating to anyone who might try and get in their path. 

Abed leaves the lights off when they make it to his dorm. He picks up his green silk pajamas and holds them up so Troy knows what he’s doing then turns around to change. Troy turns around too, averting his eyes. 

Abed doesn’t say anything, so Troy tells by the rustle of blankets that he’s finished changing. He’s struggling to pull a weighted blanket across the room and towards the bunk bed so Troy comes over to help. 

Abed freezes and looks at him, eyes tired. Eventually, he nods and lets Troy take the blanket before heading toward his bed. He takes the bottom bunk, something curious considering he tends to prefer the top. 

He climbs under the blankets that are already on his bed, then lets Troy throw the weighted one on top of him. 

Troy clears his throat, not entirely sure what to do next. “Is there-can I do anything else?”

Abed shakes his head no and pulls his knees up to his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a shuddery sigh. 

Troy nods. “Okay,” he agrees, voice just above a whisper. “I’ll be right here if you need then.” He retires to Abed’s couch and stays awake until he’s sure Abed’s fallen asleep. Then he curls up, using one of Abed’s hoodies as a blanket, and nods off himself. 

Healing Hide & Seek 102

Troy wakes up to see Abed still asleep. It’s almost noon which means they missed their first class for the day but Troy really doesn’t care. He does wonder who won hide and seek though. 

His back and neck hurt and does an awkward stretch to try and rid himself of the painful knots before slumping over and taking in the room. Abed’s face is slack with sleep. He looks relaxed, unlike last night and Troy feels himself relax too. 

He feels a little useless just sitting there so he grabs some water for himself and sets another glass down in front of Abed. He debates getting them both some cereal too but figures the milk would go get warm by the time Abed wakes up. 

Troy counts Abed’s DVD collection three times over before Abed’s eyes flutter open. 

“Hey,” Troy says softly. Abed sits straight up in bed and wipes the sleep from his eyes. 

“Hi,” he responds, not quite looking at Troy. They’re both silent for a long minute and then:

“Sorry about-”

“Are you okay?”

Troy and Abed laugh, the latter slipping out of bed and coming to sit next to Troy on the couch. 

“I’m okay,” he says, nodding as if that will make it even more true. “Sorry I ruined hide and seek.”

“You didn’t ruin it!” Troy says quickly. “Chang probably found a way to ruin it anyways.” 

Abed thinks about it for a second then nods. “I know you’ll wanna talk about yesterday,” he says. Troy turns, tucking his feet up on the couch so he can better face his friend. 

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Abed turns as well, keeping his eyes on his hands that sit in his lap. Troy kind of wants to reach out and take those hands, hold them, squeeze them, and tell Abed everything will be alright but he refrains. 

“It’s natural to be curious,” Abed says. “And I want to tell you.” 

“Okay,” Troy breathes, attention fully on Abed. Normally he’s distracted in situations like these, attention pulled towards a bird outside the window or an annoying thought swirling around his head. But it’s important to be present right now, so he forces himself to be.

“You might know a little bit about my backstory,” Abed says and starts picking at his nails. “About… high school and junior high.” 

Troy nods, urging Abed to go on. “I was shoved into a lot of lockers. I don’t really like tight spaces because of it.” 

Troy swallows thickly. He’d shoved kids into lockers before, kids like Abed who talked weird and dressed a little funny. He’s not proud of it, but he feels extra guilty right now. He wonders who might be out there suffering right now because of him. 

“Buddy,” Troy says softly.  He blinks rapidly because tears are gathering in his eyes and he doesn’t want to cry, not when this is really about Abed, not himself. But it doesn’t help and the tears fall anyways. 

Troy does pick up Abed’s hands this time. He tells himself it’s because Abed’s cuticles have started to bleed, but he knows deep down it’s to help soothe the deep ache in his heart. 

“I know how badly you wanted to win,” Abed finally looks up at him. He doesn’t say anything about the tears and Troy feels immense relief about it. “I did too. But I got scared.”

“It’s okay,” Troy replies, keeping his voice quiet so as not to disturb the comforting feeling that’s settled between them. Abed would probably call it the tone or mood but Troy just calls it nice. 

“I’m afraid of rats and lakes and scary movies and you don’t judge me for it!” Troy squeezes Abed’s hands for good measure. 

Abed nods and smiles softly, a tiny quirk of his lips that would probably be indistinguishable to anyone else. “And you guys are pretty cool,” he says, squeezing Troy’s hands back. “You in particular. You’ve never put me in a locker.”

Troy smiles gently. “And I never would,”

“You’re my best friend,” Abed replies and Troy feels his heart grow impossibly larger. 

“You’re mine, dude!” He beams, tears forgotten. 

He looks at their hands, still intertwined. Abed runs hot and Troy is always cold, wearing tee-shirts under his sweaters just to try and regulate his temperature, so it’s nice to be psychically close to Abed like this.

It feels right. It feels like home. 

Red Instead

Surprisingly, it was Jeff’s idea. He lets Britta take the credit because he can’t let people know he cares, but seeing it come to fruition makes a weird warm feeling grow in his heart that he’d like to go away. 

Abed once mentioned offhandedly how autism speaks was more of a hate group than an organization that wanted to help people. It rubbed Jeff the wrong way, especially since his former firm once represented them in a case. 

So he did some research, thinking the whole time that Abed would be saying something about an out-of-character moment . The more he read the more heated he got about it too, in the same way, Britta does about injured cats and Troy does about people who diss early 2000s cartoons.

But now that it was actually April 2nd he was nervous, especially for Abed’s reaction. The group was already in the study room and waiting for him to get out of How To Watch Television.

Jeff was waiting to see who has a breakdown first, Abed or the Professor. His bet was on the Professor. 

Abed finally walks in, head down as he hums what sounds like Day Break . Jeff forces himself to relax as his friend pulls out his chair and takes his normal seat. 

When Abed looks up his brows furrow in confusion. He takes in each member of the study group one by one stopping to land on Jeff who is wearing a slick red button-up and an expensive suit jacket to go with. 

“You’re all wearing red,” Abed states, pointing around the table. Abed’s in his typical graphic tee and skinny jeans, wearing neither red nor blue, but rather a lot of green, black, and purple.

“Yeah,” Troy says, beaming. He has on a red sweater and burgundy pants. 

“Is this some kind of late April fool's day joke?” Abed asks. “Or a social cue I’m missing?”

Britta takes his hand in her own, a red bracelet glistening in the light. “No,” she assures. “It’s-”

“Dean-a-ling,” Dean Pelton sticks his head through the doorway getting everyone's attention. He’s dressed head to toe in blue and his shirt has rainbow puzzle pieces across the front that makes Jeff’s blood boil. Even his pants have tiny puzzle pieces on them and Jeff wonders if he made them himself, then decides he’d rather not think about it.

“I see I missed the message that everyone’s wearing red today,” he says somberly, sounding like he might be about to cry. “I feel so blue. Even Pierce is in on it.” He anguishes, motioning towards the red turtle neck Pierce has.

The dean takes a deep breath to compose himself and puts a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. Jeff rolls his eyes, allowing Craig whatever moment of comfort he needs. 

“I made red bracelets for everyone if you want!” Annie speaks up, pulling out a beaded bracelet from her bag.

“No,” The dean says, shaking his head. “I don't want your pity.” He takes a deep, steadying breath. “At least I’m not the only one left out,” he sniffs, nodding at Abed. He gently slaps Jeff’s shoulder and Jeff feels his patience waning. 

Then, the dean glares at the whole table in a rare moment of anger. “And of all days… I thought you guys would be wearing blue.” He looks at Abed and shakes his head. “It’s like they don’t even care.” 

Abed cocks his head to the side. “Care about what?”

“Autism awareness day! Autism speaks! And to think they call you their friends!”

“Okay,” Jeff snaps, standing up and dislodging Craig’s hand. The dean seems to be a little into that, but Jeff ignores it. “I think that you should leave, and I also think you should do some actual research by actual autistic people on world autism day and the color blue.”

The dean frowns. “Oh Jeffrey…” he says, using his patented disappointed voice. 

“Get out!” Jeff yells, pointing towards the door. 

“Well, I see where I’m not wanted,” Craig leaves moping on his way out the door. 

Jeff turns to look at Abed as he slowly sits down. The other man is fiddling with a pencil and looking at him with an expression Jeff can’t figure out. 

“Is it world autism day?” He finally asks. 

“Yeah,” Troy replies, smiling a little sheepishly. 

“Oh,” Abed mutters. “I tend to try and forget about that. People like to be mean about it. One year my friends locked me in the art room closet.” Jeff doesn't say that those people don’t sound like friends, but he does think it. 

“And people are mean without realizing it,” Both Annie and Shirley aww and Jeff wishes they wouldn’t so often, especially after learning about what infantilization is. “Like the dean. But I think he’s just ignorant.

“I like the red though,” Abed continues, then looks at Jeff with an approving nod. “Thanks.” 

“Let’s study,” Jeff replies, because he’s ill-equipped for a highly emotional moment right now, just like he always is. Everyone opens their books and gets started. 

Jeff catches Abed on his way out the door once the study group disbands for the day and starts leaving for their own obligations. Abed looks at him, a question written across his face. As much as everyone says Abed is unreadable, it can be shockingly easy to figure him out. Or, at least it is for Jeff. 

“Look, Abed,” he starts, awkwardly running the back of his neck. “I just… I want to apologize.” The words feel weird in his mouth but he pushes on even as Abed cocks his head to the side. 

“Why?”

“When, at the first study session, I said you had Aspergers. That wasn’t cool of me.”

Abed purses his lips and then straightens up. “It wasn’t,” he says. “And Asperger’s is an outdated term that’s going to be replaced in the newest version of the Diagnosis Statistic Manual. I’m sure Britta will have a field day with that. But it’s okay now. You’ve more than made up for it.”

Abed smiles softly, just quick enough to miss it, and Jeff can’t stop himself from pulling Abed into a hug. Abed wraps his arms around Jeff. It’s only for a few seconds, but the older man holds on for a little longer, melting into the hug.

When he pulls back, Jeff claps an arm on Abed’s shoulder. Abed nods back. Jeff’s heart gives a weird twist. He’s proud of how far they’ve both come since first meeting.

Accidental Puppy Acquisition

Chang walks into the study room with a litter of Pomeranian puppies. He’s covered in dirt and sweat and can taste blood in his mouth. He’d rather not talk about it… rather not even think about it really, but he does set the box holding the dogs down on the table. 

Everyone looks at him, waiting for an explanation that doesn’t come. He likes to keep people in suspense. It’s kind of like a game, only he has all the power and everyone else are his pieces to move around the board. He enjoys watching them squirm and lean forward in anticipation. 

Chang tips the box over. Dogs spill onto the study room table. The more rambunctious ones run across the desk and bark happily. The others look around at the new world confused.

Chang grabs his favorite—a little brown one with big eyes she hasn’t grown into yet—and hands it to Abed, the member of the study group he’s most partial towards. 

Then he leaves. 

Dis Lexi A

Troy had been staring at his Game Theory midterm for the past hour. He took the class for an easy A only to learn it was a lot less playing games and a lot more math . It was all coding and strategies, and not Call of Duty or Super Mario. 

And the coding was hard. Even Abed wasn’t able to help despite his vast knowledge of computers. He just kept trying to do it for Troy, which normally he would be all for, but then Abed would get frustrated when he didn’t understand and pace around the room.

Troy sighs, pushing his laptop and books away so he could rest his head on the table. “I think we need help,”

“Yeah but who?” Abed asks, grabbing the laptop to try again. Troy fights back a groan. Troy hates the way everyone around him can make him feel so stupid, how even when it's not his fault he doesn’t understand something they act like it is anyways. 

Abed doesn’t, not always, but even he’s stuck right now. This midterm is due tomorrow and he’s not even one-fourth of the way done. At best, he’ll get a D and that’s just for writing down his name. 

“Can we ask Annie?” Troy asks, lifting his head with a wince. 

Abed considers it. “I thought you didn’t like asking Annie for help with homework?” He reminds Troy

“I don’t,” Troy sighs because Abed is right. “But I’m kinda desperate at this point.” He mutters. 

Troy loves Annie, she really does, but she has this way of making him feel inferior like he’ll only ever be the dumb jock he was in high school. He feels like there are things he should just know—things everyone else has already picked up on—that he never will. Like he’s missing something, and not in an Abed social cue way but in a Troy Barnes is Stupid way. 

Still, Annie agrees to help out and thirty minutes later Troy’s almost halfway done. Abed is on one side of him with Annie on the other, sandwiched by the people he loves. Troy stretches, yawns and leans back in his chair, ready to take a break. 

“Why is there so much reading in coding?” He complains. 

“There’s not that much reading in coding, the reading is in your textbook about coding,” Abed says over a bowl of cereal. “You just need to read to understand it.” Troy doesn’t justify that with a response because, well, he’s not wrong but it’s not helpful. 

Troy drops his head on the table with a drawn-out groan. “I’m just stupid,” he mutters, sniffling pathetically. Abed’s eyes widen and he looks at Annie in panic.

“No, no, Troy, you’re not stupid,” She quickly consoles. “This is hard work, even for me.” Troy knows she doesn’t mean anything by it, but it still hurts. Even for me— like the other things that are hard for Troy are easy for her. 

“I’m stupid at everything,” Troy croaks,, and then he’s sobbing, hiding his head in his arms. 

“Aww, Troy,” Annie mutters and rubs his back. “Everyone is smart in their own way.”

“Yeah and you’re the best repair man I know,” Abed says around a mouthful of fruit loops. It is true but it doesn’t help. Reading and math are very different from plumbing and air conditioning. 

Troy shakes his head from where he’s hiding. “That doesn’t count. You guys are always making fun of me and I always get words confused and I’m bad at reading and math. I was good at football but I don’t like it even though I do.”

“Who makes fun of you?” Annie asks. 

“Everyone!” Troy cries. He knows that Abed would never, that he’s been teased enough for his stupidity around social rules, and that even Annie has been getting better. But now isn’t the time to voice those concerns. “The study group, Jeff and Britta.” 

Annie looks at Abed again and it takes a second for Abed to realize she’s asking for help. Abed puts his own hand on Troy’s back, tentative at first but then adds pressure when Troy doesn’t back down. It feels nice. 

“They only do it because they’re insecure about their own intelligence,” Abed supplies. Troy wonders if Abed has that written down in one of his many notebooks if it’s something he’d picked up on from a number of the study group members. He wonders what Abed has written down about him. 

Troy thinks Shirley is the only one who is not self-conscious about how smart she is out of the seven of them. Even Abed struggles at times, especially when it comes to other people. 

Troy finally lifts his head and angrily scrubs at his cheeks. “Yeah, but at least they can read,”

“Troy,” Annie says, leaning forward in her chair to catch his eyes. “You can read.”

“Yeah but not good,” Troy sniffles. “I get letters confused and they move around sometimes and it takes me forever to write papers.” The more Troy talks the more helpless he feels. 

“I once failed a final because I had so many spelling mistakes,” Sobs buildup in Troy’s throat and he gasps for air. He buries himself in Annie’s shoulder, feeling the child he was just complaining about. Abed keeps his hand on his shoulder, tethering him to reality. 

“Troy,” Annie says, her voice soft and comforting. “Is reading and writing always like that?”

Troy nods into her chest, relaxing slightly as she pets his hair. It’s both embarrassing and nice to admit out loud like a heavy weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

He never told his parents or his uncle and didn’t dare mention it at school in case he got kicked off the football team. Having someone else know is like sharing the burden, even if it does make his face burn with shame. 

Annie clears her throat and Troy lifts his head, preparing himself for some kind of teasing or worse. Abed’s hand doesn’t leave his arm though and it reminds him that he’s strong enough to overcome whatever Annie is going to say next. 

“Do you think you might have a learning disorder?” Annie asks. That was not what Troy was expecting. 

“What?” He asks, his voice a pathetic little squeak. 

Annie just smiles at him, with no hint of malice in her posture or face. “A girl I knew in rehab struggled with the same kind of stuff too and she-”

“No, no, no,” Troy cuts her off. “I don’t have a learning disorder. I’m not-”

I’m not like Abed . 

Troy pauses, the words getting lodged in his throat. He looks over at Abed whose head is cocked to the side, listening attentively and not saying anything. Troy knows he has tears dried to his cheeks but Abed, wonderful, wonderful Abed doesn’t mention it. He just keeps patiently waiting for Troy to be ready to go on like the best friend he is. 

Troy feels rotten. Being like Abed isn’t something to be ashamed of. Everyone should be a little more like Abed. It makes more tears gather in his eye and clean away the old ones. 

He drops his head in his hands again and sobs, an ugly gross thing that he wishes he could bury in his chest. 

“There’s nothing wrong with it Troy,” Annie says softly. “I was given Adderall in the first place because I have ADHD.” 

Troy looks up with a disgusting sniffle. “You were?”

“Yeah,” Annie responds. Her cheeks are red and she looks away from them both. “I don’t really talk about it a lot because people tend to not take me seriously after I tell them but… yeah.” 

She clears her throat and makes eye contact with Troy. “It’s not easy but you learn to live with it. Why do you think I’m always planning and writing stuff down?” 

Troy nods. He never really thought of it that way, but it makes sense. Annie’s the most prepared person he’s ever met.

“So I might have…?”

“Dyslexia,” Annie supplies.

“Diss Lexi? Whose Lexi?” 

“No, dyslexia,” Annie corrects. “It just means you have a hard time reading and writing.”

Troy frowns, chewing on his lip. “So I am stupid?”

“I have autism,” Abed speaks up. “And I’m not stupid, so you can’t be either. You’re just smart in other ways.” Annie and Troy both share a look of fondness. Abed is one of the smartest people Troy knows, so he trusts him.

“Piece is going bald,” Troy says, thinking about how they’re all kinda messed up. “And he smells like an old man.” 

Annie scoffs. “Don’t even get me started on Jeff,” she rolls her eyes. “His apartment looks like a hotel ad and he refused to eat my Bubbe’s cake because it had chocolate on it.”

“Your boobs made a cake?!” 

“You already made that joke,” Abed says. “It’s lazy writing to repeat it.” Troy looks at Abed in confusion, but Abed just blinks and offers up no explanation. 

“I guess we’re all a little messed up then, huh?” Annie asks, taking the words right from Troy’s mouth. He nods. 

“You know,” Abed starts. “Percy Jackson has dyslexia and ADHD. You guys could be demi-gods.” His eyes light up in excitement and his hands start to gesture wildly. His cereal sits forgotten next to him. 

“It helps them read Greek and fight monsters. I wonder who your godly parents would be… Troy, yours would probably be Hephaestus but-”

As Abed keeps ranting Annie rips a little piece of paper from her notebook, scribbles something on it, and hands it over to Troy. Troy looks at it and sees the word dyslexia and emotional intelligence written very carefully. 

Troy smiles and takes it so that the next time he’s feeling particularly stupid he can read the note over and over and over again. Maybe he can even show it to Britta, and see if she can find him some help. 

But for now, he tucks it in his pocket and turns to Abed, letting his soothing voice distract him and show him all the good in the world—such as his very best friends. 

Contemporary Baby Sitting

Shirley was desperate when she asked Troy and Abed to babysit her kids. Her normal sitter was sick, Andre’s family already had a list of excuses waiting and ready to go, and the rest of the study group was busy. She couldn’t miss this doctor's appointment and really didn’t see any other choice. 

She was a bundle of nerves on the way home. Before she could even pull open the door, Troy was there, cradling Ben against his chest and smiling softly at the baby. 

“Oh-”

“Hey Shirley,” Troy said, voice a pitch softer than normal. Then he babbles down at Ben who makes grabby hands up at him. Troy offers up a finger which the baby wraps his hand around. Shirley blinks. This is… the opposite of what she had expected. 

“Nooo, you can’t do this to me,” She hears Abed cry from inside the house and that is more like what she figured coming home would be like. She pushes past Troy and clutches her cross necklace.

Her living room looks like it always does, with toys spilled everywhere, only Abed is the center of it all somehow trapped under a laundry basket that Jordan’s sitting on, long limbs uncomfortably pulled up tight to his chest. Elijah is holding one of his wooden swords and brandishing it at Abed, slamming it against the basket over and over again.

“What is going on,” Shirley screams, causing all three of them to turn and look at her. 

Abed pauses in his yelling. “Oh hey Shirley,” now that she’s not surrounded by the chaos she can tell that her boys are wearing Halloween costumes from a couple of years ago—Iron Man and Captain America. 

“I said if they ate their vegetables we could play superheroes,” Abed explains. Elijah and Jordan nod, ecstatic smiles on their faces. 

That gives Shirley pause. 

“Yeah, Evil Mr. Abed kidnapped Ben’s green stuffie so we kidnapped him back,” Jordan explains. From his cage on the floor, Abed holds up the tiny bear and makes it wave to the room. Her kids giggle in response. 

“Oh, that’s where that was,” Troy says, stepping into the room. “I know he can’t sleep without it,” he looks at Shirley sheepishly, still holding Ben. 

“Hand it over!” Elijah screams, slamming his sword on the floor and then they’re off playing again. 

Shirley nods, still at a loss for words. As much as everyone teases Troy and Abed for being man-children, they’re surprisingly well-adjusted. She doesn’t even remember why she was so afraid in the first place. 

———

Abed knows all about the importance of a solid ending. They can make or break the entire film or tv show. They can be happy, a tear-jerker or even set up for a squeal. Writers will often spend days agonizing over how to perfect their endings. 

The characters have learned something important and are moving into a new world, a great beyond that the audience needs to create for themselves. They’re shiny and create endless opportunities. 

But they’re boring in clip shows. 

In clip shows, they're essentially meaningless. The characters are exactly where they started, having learned nothing new. 

Abed wonders if they’d be different in fanfiction. He wonders if reading one would help him have a better appreciation for clip shows and the characters in them. 

He wonders how his friends would grow. He wonders how he would grow.