Chapter Text
Friends don’t lie to each other. There’s one hundred twenty-one rules in Troy and Abed’s handbook on best friendship. That was the first one and the most important. It was a rule that was broken rarely, and had serious consequences when done so. In Abed’s memory, he had only broken the rule three times since it was made. “Our friendship is dead” is the first and most egregious of his lies. Abed’s stomach still twisted uncomfortably when thought about it. “F. Y. N. E.” ended up affecting mostly only Abed, but Troy still scolded him later about the lie. “I think I’m able to let Troy go now”… Abed hadn’t even known it was a lie when he had said it. The lava disappearing from the ground, as if evaporating, seemed to be a testament to the truth in his words. However, a few days after Troy’s departure, Abed found out where all that lava had gone, and he realized just how big of a lie that statement had been.
He first noticed it back at his apartment. He was folding laundry with Annie when he heard something bubbling slowly, like what you might hear coming from a stereotypical witch’s cauldron. He looked around, at first seeing nothing, before his eyes landed on the closed door to the water heater. There was a shining, orange glow issuing from the cracks between the door and its frame, and something trickling out from underneath. A rivulet of lava, burning bright. Abed had pointed it out to Annie, and she gave him the sort of look that people always gave him whenever he mentioned seeing something they couldn’t. Half sympathy, half fear. Abed brushed it off like it had been a joke. He could tell Annie didn’t really believe him, but she didn’t press him on it, for which Abed was grateful.
Now, everywhere he went, the lava was there. He could hear it in the walls, see it’s light from behind doors, sometimes oozing out of the gaps. He could even feel the heat of it, when he got close enough to where it was hidden. Every time he opened a door where the lava was lurking behind, he saw it quickly seeping into the walls, like cockroaches hiding from the light. Abed was sure it was all just barely being held back. He was sure that, after a while, it would finally burst forth and engulf him, killing him again.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew it wasn’t real. He knew real lava couldn’t be held back by plaster and wood, just like he knew you couldn’t escape lava by standing on a chair or even on an island made of chairs. But he also knew it didn’t matter it wasn’t real, because he could see it and feel it and if it got on him, he would have to pretend to be dead again, or at least pretend to be injured. That was the only way it would make sense to Abed. He knew other people wouldn’t see it that way, but Abed had never seen things in the same way as other people. Maybe if he pretend died, Britta would clone him again. A clone of a clone, though? If he kept being cloned, eventually he would cease to be Abed at all. There wouldn’t be anything left of the original.
It was a week and a half after Troy’s departure that Abed first considered giving up. It was between classes for him and he sat down in front of a janitor’s closet, leaning his back against the door. He was careful not to touch the thin string of lava flowing out, but he doesn’t bother moving away from the door, even when it starts to heat up his skin uncomfortably. He rubbed his wrist. It’s bruised and rubbed raw where he had been handcuffed. After seeing the injuries, the man who put him in the cuff, Buzz Hickey, said that he had told Abed not to struggle, and if he noticed any pain in his thumb or index finger, he should see a doctor.
Hickey doesn’t understand Abed. Doesn’t even want to understand Abed. Hickey would rather handcuff Abed to a filing cabinet and pretend he understood Abed, rather than take a moment to consider his worldview might be a little skewed. Abed doesn’t fault him for that, though. For any of it. Abed knew that he didn’t fit into a lot of people’s realities, the same way Nicolas Cage didn’t fit into Abed’s reality. Also, Hickey did tell him not to struggle and Abed did anyway, despite the fact that he had known that struggling wouldn’t do him any good. So that was on him, really. Honestly, he got what he deserved for trying to replace Troy. Troy couldn’t be replaced. He especially couldn’t be replaced by a gruff veteran who couldn’t draw cartoon ducks. Troy can draw cartoon ducks. It was just about the only thing he can draw. He used to leave post-it notes for Abed that had little cartoon ducks saying things like buy milk or I accidentally whipped Annie with the Indiana Jones whip and now we’re at the doctor’s, be home in a few hours. Abed had been a fool to think some non-duck-drawing, tough-love-without-the-love, ex-cop could replace his Troy. He had been a fool to think anyone could.
The heat of the lava coming through the door was scorching his back, but Abed still didn’t move. Not even when he heard footsteps coming down the hall and Jeff rounded the corner. Abed was glad it was Jeff and not any of the others. Jeff was the easiest person to be around since Troy had left, because he avoided uncomfortable topics, and right now, Troy was an uncomfortable topic. Hickey also didn’t talk about Troy, but, well, he wasn’t exactly easy to be around. Abed gripped his wrist. Abed knew Jeff was sad about Troy leaving, because Jeff liked Troy just as much as the others did, but Jeff didn’t try to share his feelings or make Abed share his. Abed appreciated that, because he felt as though if he tried to talk about Troy, all the lava would burst through the walls and out from behind the doors.
“Abed?” Jeff came to a stop next to Abed, looking down at him with an expression that Abed didn’t recognize. He didn’t recognize most expressions. He could only really tell that frowns meant people were unhappy and smiles meant that people were happy, unless they were fake smiles, in which case, Abed would get lost again.
“Jeff.” Abed responded.
“What are you doing?” Abed thought that was a pretty silly question. It was sort of obvious, wasn’t it?
“I’m sitting.” Jeff sighed. Jeff sighed so much Abed wondered if it even meant anything anymore or if he just did it habitually.
“Why are you sitting on the floor in the middle of the hallway?” That was less obvious, so Abed supposed it warranted asking about.
“I was thinking about trying to open the door fast enough to let the lava out.” Silence. Abed didn’t really expect an immediate answer to that. He expected Jeff to just walk away, or make some sarcastic comment that Abed probably wouldn’t recognize as sarcasm. He didn’t expect Jeff to sit down next to him. He did expect the sigh Jeff gave as Jeff sat.
“We don’t need to have another group therapy session for you, do we?” Abed winced and drew his knees up to his chest. He pointedly turned his face away from Jeff. The answer to that was easy: no. A thousand times no. Abed never had and never will trust therapy. “Relax, I’m kidding.” Abed wondered if that was true, or if Jeff was just backpedaling. “Can you at least tell me what you’re talking about?” The burning on his back was becoming too painful to stand. Abed finally leaned forward and faced Jeff again.
“There’s lava behind the doors and in the walls.” Jeff frowned at Abed and Abed frowned back, more to imitate Jeff’s expression than anything else.
“You know that’s not true… right?”
“I know, but I see it anyway, and feel it.” More silence. Jeff was staring at him with another inscrutable-to-Abed expression.
“Is this about Troy?” Abed felt his chest tighten and a lump form in his throat. Abed never cried. When he was a child, he had cried when Mufasa in the Lion King died. His father told him that boys never cried and he had to toughen up if he wanted to be a man. Abed believed that for a long time. When Abed met Troy, he stopped believing it. Troy cried all the time, but he was one of the strongest men Abed had ever known. Still, it was rare that he even wanted to cry and when he did, it was hard to shake the habit of holding back his tears. Now, they pricked at the corners of his eyes and Abed reached up to wipe at them. “Abed, what happened to your wrist?” Jeff’s voice is slightly louder and though Abed had trouble understanding inflection, he knew Jeff was worried.
“Nothing. I just hit it, accidentally.” He lied. Friends don’t lie to each other, but what if something bad happened if they didn’t, like Troy not being able to leave, or Jeff getting into a fight with Buzz Hickey? That would be a fight Jeff would lose and it would be Abed’s fault if Jeff got hurt.
“I’m not an idiot, Abed.” Jeff took his hand. Abed tried to pull away but Jeff held fast. “It’s all the way around your wrist. Did you tie something to it?” Abed frowned sincerely this time. It was a lot slighter than his imitation frown, but someone who knew him well enough could pick up on it. “Abed?”
“I don’t want to tell you. I don’t want anything bad to happen.” Jeff tried to meet Abed’s eyes, but Abed had always detested eye contact. He looked over Jeff’s shoulder. He learned a long time ago that you can give the illusion of eye contact if you look over a person’s head or shoulder. There was yet another sigh from Jeff.
“Okay. You don’t have to tell me.” Abed didn’t believe that. He had known Jeff for over five years now. When Jeff wanted to know something, he would find out, no matter what. Even if that meant going a little crazy. Abed would have to tell him eventually, or maybe Jeff would get it out of Hickey. Either way, Abed didn’t see a way to avoid the conflict that would arise because of him. “Can you tell me this, then? You said you could feel the lava. Wouldn’t that kill you?”
“It would kill me if I was touching it directly. I can feel the heat coming through the walls and doors. It kind of burns if I actually touch the places it’s behind.”
“You were leaning up against the door a little while ago.”
“Yeah.” Abed offered up no explanation of why, because he didn’t have an explanation.
“You said you wanted to open the door fast enough to let the lava out. What the hell does that mean?” Jeff’s voice was a little rough now and Abed hugged his knees.
“Are you angry?”
“No, Abed. I’m just... scared.” That was a lot worse than Jeff being angry. Jeff didn’t scare easily and even when he was scared, he never admitted to being so. Abed didn’t want to be the reason Jeff Winger said he was scared. That meant Abed was doing something really wrong. “Just tell me what you meant.”
“Whenever I open doors, all the lava goes into the walls. I was wondering if I could open it fast enough, if it would spill out into the hall instead.”
“Wouldn’t it get on you then?” Jeff’s voice still had a rough edge to it but it was mostly softened now.
“I thought maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.” Abed didn’t really realize the way that might sound to Jeff until Jeff clapped his hand on Abed’s shoulder and gripped it so tight that it hurt and said:
“Do we need to make a DnD campaign for you? Because I’m not sure how that’s going to work since you’re the Dungeon Master.”
“I’m not suicidal, Jeff. I’m not even fake suicidal. Not really. I thought if I fake died, Britta could clone me again, but leave out the part of me that misses--” Abed cut himself off. Jeff pulled him into a hug, warm and tight. Abed thought things must be really bad, if Jeff was hugging him, because Jeff didn’t hug people much. Abed didn’t hug people much, either. In fact, he probably hugged people less than Jeff. The only person he really hugged was Troy. Abed let people hug him a lot, though, because he knew that people felt better when they thought they made Abed feel better. So, he didn’t pull away from Jeff, even though the smell of Jeff’s cologne stung his nose.
“Abed, you can’t clone yourself out of missing Troy.” Abed trembled in Jeff’s arms. “I think you might be seeing lava because you’re not letting yourself think about Troy.”
“If I think about him, then the lava will come out of the walls.”
“Sounds like the lava might be a metaphor for your emotions.” Abed fell into a huffy silence, because Jeff was starting to sound like Britta and he didn’t want to think about therapy.
“I don’t think crazy can be a metaphor, Jeff,” he said after a while. Jeff pulled away from the hug and tried to meet Abed’s eyes again. Abed looked above Jeff’s head this time, for variety’s sake.
“Just tell me you didn’t do that to yourself on purpose.” Jeff pointed at Abed’s wrist.
“I didn’t.” When Jeff didn’t stop frowning at him, Abed added, “I promise.” Jeff reached out and ruffled Abed’s hair. Abed made Annie’s offended noise and set about straightening it while Jeff stood up and held out a hand to help Abed up as well. Abed finished fixing his hair and took Jeff’s hand, letting Jeff haul him up.
“Do you want soft serve from the cafeteria? My treat.”
“Okay.”