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They were at Red Street or L door or something. Abed couldn’t really remember, he was more than a little tipsy but having a great time. He and Annie had danced and then he and Troy had danced and then even Jeff got in on it.
It wasn’t too crowded and unlike the last time the group went to a bar, no one was fighting, pretending to be someone they were not, or throwing a drink in his face. Troy even got to have his seven and seven before ordering something fruiter.
Abed was on his way back from the bathroom–shaking the excess water off his hands because automatic dryers were always too loud–when the turning point in today's episode finally happened.
“Abed? Abed Nadir, is that you?” Abed looked up. The person was pronouncing his name like Ay-Bed but Pierce wasn’t there (they hadn’t invited him on purpose) so he was confused.
It was, in fact, not Pierce. A few feet in front of him was Luke, someone Abed hadn’t seen since high school. Behind him was Megan, Luke’s long-time girlfriend from high school. In every scenario Abed ran they had a long and unhappy marriage, so Abed wasn’t surprised to see a ring on both of their fingers.
Abed froze. He remembered Luke shoving him into lockers and slamming on the doors for good measure. He recalled Megan pretending to ask him out in front of a group of girls just for everyone to laugh.
High school was a blur of tight spaces, slurs, and physical assault that he tried not to think about. Seeing Luke and Megan brought all of that break. He feels like he can’t breathe.
Luke claps a hand on his shoulder and Abed’s knees buckle. “How’s it going man?” He asks. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“I’m fine,” Abed croaks, only because that’s the socially acceptable response. He looks back to his friends who are still dancing, lost in their own drunken world. Abed feels strikingly sober.
“You look… good, man,” Luke says, shaking Abed by the shoulder. It’s rough and everything Abed remembers him to be. His brain rattles in his skull. Luke’s grinning and it makes Abed feel like prey, about to be pounced on. “Still obsessed with movies?”
Abed nods. “I’m majoring in film,” he answers.
Megan smiles. It doesn’t look nice, more like she’s pitying him. “That’s the little Abed I remember!” The way she says it makes him feel small, like a child.
She and Luke laugh and Abed doesn’t really understand why—he didn’t even say anything funny. Still, he laughs along in order to fit in.
Megan ruffles his hair. Abed wishes they would stop touching him. Where before he had been comfortable and relaxed his skin has now started to crawl.
It’s not like Troy’s touches, with the right amount of pressure, or Britta who just seems to know when he is and isn’t comfortable with physical contact. Rather, it makes him want to peel his skin off.
“You’ve barely changed,” Megan says, giggling drunkenly at Luke who towers over the both of them.
“I know,” Luke replies. “Still wearing the same old nerdy tee-shirts,” Abed just shrugs. He likes his clothes, people don’t even comment on them anymore, and they’re comfortable.
“I saw you dancing with that girl,” Luke says. “What’s her name?”
“Annie,” Abed replies.
Megan smiles, all teeth. “She’s cute.”
Luke nods. “Could have sworn you were a fag in high school,” Luke and Megan share a look and laugh so hard it hurts his ears. He doesn’t know why they’re laughing, it’s not a particularly funny sentence or word.
Abed fights the urge to flinch. He’s always hated that word, it’s always made him want to throw up, especially now since dating Troy.
He thinks about how much the word has hurt Troy in the past and looks away. “Is Annie your girlfriend?” Megan asks, stretching out her words.
“No,” Abed answers easily. He loves Annie, but not like that. She’s like a sister to him, a best friend. Megan frowns but doesn’t push it.
“What about the blonde?” Luke asks, nodding towards Britta. Abed shakes his head.
“No,” He doesn’t say anything else, just internally cringes at the idea of him and Britta dating.
They would never make sense, in any timeline. Her passion and fire are admirable, and she cares more than she lets on, but she was his first friend and friend first. They’re like Donna and Tom, an unstoppable force but never relationship material.
“Remember when you got stuck in the art cabinet?” Liam asks, changing the subject. His laugh is harsh and grating this time. Abed laughs too but shuffles his feet at the memory. He does, very acutely. Suddenly the bar feels too small.
He remembers being dragged inside, and the bruises on his arm that lasted for days after. A janitor found him and gave him a hall pass so he could get back to class without getting in trouble.
“Yeah,” he croaks.
“You were so scared,” Megan coos. She’s close enough for Abed to smell the alcohol on her breath and he leans away.
Luke ruffles his hair like he’s some kind of child like he’s an old friend and not an old enemy. “We had fun back then.”
Maybe you did, Abed thinks bitterly.
He looks back over to the dance floor, a silent plea someone will see the situation and come help. But he’s stuck in a dark corner of the bar far away from anyone who might be able to see what’s going on.
Abed wants to get out of here, go outside, stand in the endless space, and look at the stars until he feels normal again.
His skin feels like it’s stretched too thin like he could break out of it at any second. He wants to scratch at it until he can free himself from his own prison. He wants to run but he’s frozen in place.
“The good old days,” Luke says, a wide smile on his face.
He snorts and Abed is still just as confused but it doesn’t last for long because Luke is wrapping his arm around Abed’s neck and rubbing his knuckle into the top of his head.
It’s like what an older brother would do to their younger sibling. Jeff’s done it to him before and it felt friendly, almost comforting. Now it just makes him feel on fire.
Abed yelps, backing out of the touch. Megan’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong with you?” She asks.
Abed takes a deep, steadying breath. He shakes his hands to try and rid himself of the jitters he feels. Luke and Megan openly stare.
“Dude, relax,” Luke says, his tone sharp. “We’re just teasing.”
“Cool,” Abed nods. “Cool, cool, cool.” He doesn’t feel cool.
“You’re acting weird,” Megan says. She sounds like all the mean girls in the 80s movies Abed likes to watch. “Are you okay?”
“No,” Abed responds because it’s the truth. He keeps his eyes pinned to the floor rather than looking up.
“You’re not still retarded, are you?” Megan’s voice is gentle now like she actually cares. She leans down to try and make eye contact with Abed, who quickly looks away.
Abed doesn’t know how to respond to that so he doesn’t. Luke laughs gently and Abed flinches because he gets it now . They’re laughing at him , not with him always have been, since high school to now.
He feels small, pathetic, and gullible. He wants to melt into the floor and disappear, be Things are exactly the same—Abed is still looking in from the outside.
In high school, he wanted to be normal so badly. In college, he learned to accept himself for who he was, hyperfixations, stims, oddisms, and all. The study group doesn’t mind, they take him and love him as he is. But there will always be people who see Abed as nothing but an emotionless freak whose habits are something to be laughed at.
“You’re bad people,” he mutters to his shoes, keeping himself stiff and rigid.
“What?” Luke asks, his voice low and dangerous.
“You’re bad people,” Abed repeats, a little louder. He finally makes eye contact with Luke. “You’re insecure about your masculinity so you take it out on others to make yourself feel more like a man.”
Luke looks pissed, his brows furrowing and his hands balling into fists. Megan gaps in the way Annie does when she’s offended. “You can’t just say that, freak” she snaps.
Abed looks at her next, face blank. “You don’t even have a personality,” he says. “You don’t know who you are past pretty and popular and that only lasted so long in high school so you’re masking your fear by being mean to people.”
It feels good to say these things, to bring the people who teased him relentlessly the same pain he felt in high school— still feels .
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Luke snarls. He punctuates his words with a harsh shove that sends Abed into the brick wall. He cringes as Luke crowds around and towers over him.
“You guys are like Biff from Back to The Future ” Abed knows he should stop, but he doesn’t. “Bullies, assholes, and kinda dumb too,” his heart is still racing. He tries to tell himself, this isn’t high school, he can stand up for himself now , but it doesn’t work.
Luke shoves him again, hard enough for his teeth to clink together when his head hits the back of the wall. Abed winces, eyes wide. He looks over to Megan who is not even saying anything, just standing behind her boyfriend and watching passively.
Abed squeezes his hands over his ears and starts screaming. He melts down, allowing himself to succumb to the panic thrumming through his veins, and doubles over to try and protect himself. He doesn’t feel like Batman or Luke Skywalker right now, he feels just like Abed, weak and lame and weird .
“Fuck, stop if freak,” Luke yells at him, kicking at Abed’s shin. “You’re causing a scene.”
Abed shakes his head frantically, no, no, no, no , screeching picking up in pitch. Luke kicks him again, hard .
He just stops, shutting down and zoning out. It’s better than screaming because screaming gets him hit. If he shuts down then he doesn’t need to feel, doesn’t need to be aware of his body and the painful way he’s holding himself.
Before Luke can even open his mouth a familiar pair of name-brand dress shoes steps into his line of vision.
“Is everything okay?” Jeff asks.
Abed looks up. Jeff, Troy, Britta, Shirley, and Troy are all standing behind Luke and Megan. For all he struggles with social cues—especially in emotionally tense situations—Abed can tell they’re angry.
Their arms are crossed over their chests, eyebrows furrowed. Their eyes are dark and threatening. It’s everything characters in movies look like before they snap.
Abed hopes they’re not angry at him for causing a scene. He knows it’s embarrassing the way he acts sometimes. It’s one of his least favorite things about himself.
“Everything’s fine,” Luke says, giving one of his award-winning smiles, the kind that made all the girls swoon in high school. “Right, Abed?”
Abed looks at Troy. He’s flushed with intoxication but steady on his feet. Boyfriends don’t lie .
Abed shakes his head no. He wishes he could put more emotion into it, show how not fine everything is, but his face is blank.
“Look,” Jeff says. He’s calm, always the lawyer. “I’m not gonna hurt you because I’m a man and you’re a child, but I think you should go.”
“Yeah, but I’m not above hitting children!” Annie cuts in, stepping in front of Jeff. She’s younger than both of them actually, but scarier in a way, with her clenched fists and determined scowl.
Megan and Luke scoff at the same time. “You can’t hit us,” Megan cries.
“Watch me!” Britta shouts back. She’s actually one of the scarier of the group and certainly looks that way now with her leather jacket and blonde curly hair tied up. She pulls back a fist and both Luke and Megan flinch.
“One… two…” Shirely starts his voice deep and deadly calm.
“Let’s get out of here,” Megan says. She grabs Luke by the upper arm and starts dragging him away. Abed is still standing behind them, frozen in place.
“Yeah, this queer isn’t worth the trouble,” Luke spits at Abed.
Troy growls and lunges at Luke, a perfectly clenched fist prepared to land. He’s held back by Jeff, who wraps his arms around Troy’s waist and starts dragging him away.
Luke flinches and Megan hauls him the rest of the way out of the bar. Once they’re gone Troy relaxes, his attention now solely on Abed.
“Hey buddy,” he says softly, approaching him but not quite touching him.
Abed swallows thickly and looks up. He sees Shirley ushering everyone away to give them some space and Abed feels his heart swell with appreciation. He feels out of it like he’s not really there. Like someone could walk right through him and he wouldn't even feel it.
Troy’s hands hover over his shoulder and Abed nods. His touch helps ground him to the moment. He takes a breath and wills himself to calm down. After a second Abed takes Troy’s hands and starts pulling him from the bar.
They end up outside, walking past the rest of the study group who give small waves. Abed doesn’t wave back, just mind solely focused on getting out. They drunkenly stumble through the door and into the biting cold.
It feels like coming up for a breath of fresh air after drowning—like finally escaping a locker after being stuck inside for hours.
Troy leads them to a secluded alley, the kind of place Abed would typically stay away from, but he knows he’s safe with Troy. He always is. And he’d protect Troy right back.
Abed’s body subconsciously relaxes as Troy immediately scopes him up, pulling him in and tugging him close. Abed rests his head on Troy’s shoulder and lets out a puff of air. He doesn’t hug back—doesn’t have the energy, but Troy understands. He always does.
Troy runs a gentle hand up and down his back. “How you feeling buddy?”
Abed swallows thickly. He’s feeling a lot but he doesn’t know how to articulate them. People love to call a robot, emotionless, and worse, but it’s not like that. He feels things, he just can’t explain them. It’s made even worse now that he’s tipsy.
“Tired,” Abed finally settles on, because that is one emotion he can always recognize. Troy nods. He pulls back from the hug and runs his hands up and down Abed’s arms. It keeps him warm in the biting cold, neither of them wearing a coat.
“How did you know those guys?” Troy asks.
“High school,”
Troy frowns. For as candidly as Abed talks about it, Troy is the only person who knows how truly bad the bullying in high school was. He pulls Abed back in for a hug, using the perfect amount of pressure.
Troy sniffles and Abed hugs back this time. His shirt becomes damp with Troy’s tears. “Why are you crying?”
Troy stifles a sob. “I hate when you get hurt or people are mean to you,” he says into Abed’s chest. Abed runs a comforting hand up and down his back.
When Troy gets upset, it’s best to let him cry it out. It’s actually one of the things Abed loves best about him, the way he wears his emotions so openly and lets everyone know how he’s feeling. Abed wishes he could be more like him in that sense.
“Everyone gets hurt,” Abed mutters. “It’s a part of life.”
“But you’ve already been hurt so much,” Troy responds.
“It’s okay. I know how to handle it,” Abed pulls away a little so he can look at Troy. His tears are wet and tacky on his cheeks. He reaches up and wipes the tears away before they can freeze there.
“You shouldn’t have to,” Troy says. His tears keep falling. Abed cups Troy’s face with his hands and keeps gently swiping at them with the pada of his thumbs.
“Resilience is one of my best character traits though,” Abed says.
“You know you’re allowed to be upset, right?” Troy asks, leaning into Abed’s touch.
Abed nods. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I know. And I am. It was pretty messed up.”
Troy furrows his brows in concern. Abed is reminded of how angry he looked moments ago, yelling at Luke and Megan, prepared to get into a fight for him. It makes his heart race.
“Are you mad at me?” Abed asks. Troy pulls away from Abed’s touch, eyes wide with shock. Abed tenses, ready for Troy to say yes , waiting for him to get mad now.
It’s the perfect opportunity, they’re alone, no one’s around. Troy can express himself as freely as he wants.
“What?” Troy asks “No. What? Why?” He shakes his head like it’s the most absurd thing in the world.
“I caused a scene,” Abed replies, frowning in confusion.
Abed vividly remembers the way his mom’s face would contort with anger when Abed had a meltdown in the grocery store or cried in the doctor's office. He remembers her bruising grip as she dragged him out, sat him in his car seat, and yelled until he shut down. The way his teachers would snap at him for rocking back and forth and covering his ears or his Dad would cry to himself when he thought Abed couldn’t hear–it was nothing new.
“Abed…” Troy takes both of his hands and squeezes them gently. “You didn’t cause a scene. They did.” He says, voice sweet like honey. Abed could listen to him talk for hours, does some days when the world is too much and he only wants to be surrounded by Troy and his kindness.
“And I could never be mad at you for that,” Troy continues. “It’s just part of who you are and I love every part.”
Abed nods, swallowing thickly. He’s exhausted, too tired to even hold up his own head, so he rests his forehead against Troy’s and intertwines their fingers.
“Did they hurt you bad?” Troy furrows his brows in concern. Abed shrugs. He’s had worse but he doesn’t wanna say that in case it makes Troy cry again.
Troy is smarter than that though, smarter than most people give him credit for, and his hands find their way to the back of Abed’s head. Troy’s fingers gently ghost over where his head had hit the wall and Abed winces.
Troy frowns and pulls away. “Crap, sorry!”
“It’s okay,” Abed says, moving Troy’s arms to wrap them around his neck again. The weight feels nice, like it’s tethering him to earth. Troy always has a way of grounding him in reality.
“We should put ice on it,” Troy’s biting his bottom lip with his teeth hard enough to bleed. “Or something. Annie would know what to do.”
“I’m okay,” Abed repeats, because he is. He puts on his calming voice—the one that always relaxes Troy—and reaches up a hand to get him to stop worrying at his lip.
“I’m just glad it’s over,” Abed says. “And I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad you’re here too,” Troy replies, smiling wide. It’s so bright it could rival the sun. Despite the cold wind, it makes Abed feel warm.
Abed presses a quick kiss on Troy’s cheek. “Wanna go home?” Troy asks.
Abed smiles softly, running his thumb over Troy’s cheekbone and cupping his jaw. They’re pressed against each other and fit perfectly, like puzzle pieces that were always meant to be. “I already am.”