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There’s shouting, a lot of it. He flees, leaving Abed parked outside in his car.
When Abed finds him sitting on a bench at the nearby park, he’s sitting with his head buried in his hands.
He sits next to him silently, waiting for a cue to talk. When it doesn’t come, he says, “It’s not your fault. You know that, right Troy?”
He doesn’t say anything, however the sobs increasing in frequency and volume is an indicator that he heard.
After a while, he manages to choke out, “I just wanted him to understand… To finally get me. Why doesn’t he get me? Why did I think he would get me?”
”Troy…” Abed tentatively puts a hand on his shoulder, and when he leans into his touch, he wraps his arm around him, Troy’s head pressing into his chest. His other hand cradles his head, running through his hair.
“I’m so stupid to think my dad, a Jehovah’s witness, could love me while being gay…”
“Shhh,” Abed soothes him by rubbing his back. “That’s not true.”
“What?” He lifts his head, looking at his face.
“The stupid part. That’s not true.”
Troy makes his “this is wrinkling my brain” face before bursting into a new bout of tears.
“You’re one of the most emotionally intelligent people I know. You’re in touch with your emotional qualities, and even though people view you as immature, you still find solutions to problems that are considerate of others. You consider and care for everyone else’s needs before yourself, even if you want to give into selfish desires. You stand up for me when no one else will. You’re amazing, Troy. And the fact that your dad can’t see that is on him.”
After that it’s quiet between the two, minus the sobbing.
They sit in silence for a while, before Abed suggests, “Let’s go home.”
Home. He wasn’t even sure where that was anymore.
He nods anyway, letting Abed’s hand on his back guide him out of the park and to the car.
The drive is silent, with the radio drowning the sound of Troy’s sniffles. Abed at a red light squeezes his thigh in reassurance, and normally Troy would be flustered but he finds himself too upset to care. He feels all too much.
Once they’re home, Troy has mostly calmed down but is exhausted from the amount of energy that crying took out of him. He settles on the couch while Abed sets up some comedy movie and makes him Special Drink.
“You don’t have to talk about it, Troy.”
He shakes his head. “I want to. Eventually. I just… maybe tomorrow?”
“Okay.”
Tomorrow rolls around quickly, but Abed doesn’t push it. Troy is grateful, but also guilty that he also doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Maybe never.
He’s quiet in the study group. He ignores the pointed jokes that Jeff makes, only staring at the table with a pencil still in his hand and the other palm down on the textbook.
Luckily, or he guesses for him, unluckily, Annie takes notice.
“Troy, are you okay? You’re really quiet today.”
He can feel everyone’s eyes on him suddenly. He feels eyes of judgement, almost. Shirley’s pity eyes throw him for a loop, and he’s not even entirely sure what that means. Britta looks at him like he’s something to be fixed. Jeff’s waiting for a response, a raised eyebrow to cover up the fact that he’s at least a little worried. Pierce is senile, and doesn’t know what’s going on anyways. Luckily he’s asleep this time, so he won’t bother with dumb, inappropriately timed jokes.
It’s like he’s back at his dad’s again, having to put on a front– a performance so no one knows what he’s truly feeling.
But then he feels Abed’s hand on his thigh, palm up.
He takes it.
“Yeah, sorry. Just got a lot on my mind. Don’t worry about me.”
“You know you can talk to us about anything, right Troy?” He knows Britta is trying to help, but her tone seems accidentally condescending. It’s degrading, and he only likes that when Abed does it. That thought surprises him, but he pushes it down.
He resists the urge to scowl. “Yes, Britta, I know.”
Shirley chimes in. “Troy, you don’t have to be mean to Britta. Just tell us, what’s wrong?”
“Yeah,” Annie says with puppy dog eyes. “We’re worried about you.”
He lets go of Abed’s hand, and snaps, “I don’t wanna talk about it! Just let it go, okay?”
He rushes out of the door, bag slung over his shoulder.
The rest of the group looks to Abed for answers. He shakes his head, acting clueless.
That night keeps playing on repeat in his head. He can’t sleep, because every time he closes his eyes, he’s reminded of the pain he caused.
“Dad,” He said. “I wanna tell you something.”
His dad smirks, patting him on the back. He sets a glass of whiskey on the table. One for him, one for himself. “You got a girlfriend pregnant? Funny joke, son.”
He chuckles and squirms awkwardly. “Ah, no. I- uh, it’s something serious.”
“What is it then? Is it not a joke?”
“Hah, no, Dad. No one’s pregnant. I- uh… I've been wanting to tell you this for a while, and uh, I hope this doesn’t change anything about how you see me.”
“Troy,” His dad says– a warning. But Troy doesn’t listen. He doesn’t realize, he’s too focused elsewhere. He needs this off his chest, he needs to say it.
“I like girls, Dad. I do–”
“Troy!” He stands up. Troy follows his movements.
“I’m bisexual, and I like men, okay? Nothing’s changed about me!”
The glass shatters against the wall. Whiskey stains the paint on a splatter, making it a deeper green than before. Some of the broken glass sticks out of the wall, falling down to where the rest sits on the floor. There’s a pause where Troy looks from the wall to the glass, then back at his father. He’s never seen him this angry before. Then the slap comes, catching him off guard. It stings as he brings his hand up to it. His father grabs both sides of his face with one hand, tilting his head up to look at him.
“Get the hell out of my house.”
“Dad–”
He lets go and points to the door. “Get out! Now!”
Troy stammers as he backs away from him. “Wh– Dad!”
“I will not have a faggot son! Now you get out of this damn house and never come back! You hear me? I have no faggot for a son!” His father’s breath is hot in his face, reeking of several more drinks from before. He’s never threatened Troy directly while drunk before either. “You chose to walk out when you chose that lifestyle!”
He feels hot tears rolling down his cheeks, and he slaps them away with his palms in shame. He feels so stupid for not knowing how this was going to be the way things turned out between them. Part of him realizes that it would always be that way, but he didn’t actually believe it.
“I’ve got a weak, faggot excuse for a son.” He says, voice deadly even. Not calm, but now level. “And that will not stay the same, because you are not my son anymore.”
He stands there, silent besides the whimpers he’s trying to push down. He wasn’t supposed to be crying like this in front of his dad. Not when he was like this.
“Now actually listen to me, and Get. Out.”
Troy storms out the door as fast as he can.
He realizes there’s dried tears on his face when he wakes up. He wipes them away when he hears noise from the kitchen. He doesn’t want Annie to see. And he doesn’t want Abed to see either. He’ll worry like the study group, and Troy doesn’t want that to happen.
He knows that this is all his fault– that he is the reason for his own situation. It’s his fault for being gay. That he is guilty for existing this way. He knows that it’s wrong to have these demeaning thoughts about himself, but the Jehovah’s Witness part of him is shoving his other thoughts away. Only focusing on what he was taught.
He’s worthless to his father, and that stings. Troy never felt particularly close to him, he just wanted to impress him to think he was good enough.
He always only wanted to be good enough.
And somehow he always fails.
When he gets down from the top bunk, he notices Abed is gone. There’s a mess of rumpled sheets in his wake.
Troy furrows his brows, too tired to be fully-awake concerned, but still concerned.
That is until he reaches the kitchen, where Abed is helping Annie make pancakes. They’re chocolate chip instead of blueberry this time.
“Uh, what is going on here?” He rubs the sleep from his eyes again to make sure he’s not dreaming. It doesn’t seem more magical than usual like in his dreams, so he might be in the clear. Minus the flying and Spiderman randomly crawling on the apartment walls. That’s not happening right now, which sort of sucks. He likes Spiderman a lot.
Annie distracts him out of his thoughts. “Well, Abed suggested to me that he’d help make pancakes with me since he thought that might help cheer you up.”
She holds up the plate with a proud smile, which shows a smiley face out of whipped cream and maple syrup.
He breaks out into a grin. “Wow, thanks Annie. And Abed, of course.”
Abed army salutes him, then grabs his plate that also has a smiley face.
Annie says, “Troy, I’m sorry if it seemed like I pushed you the other day. Clearly you were bothered by something, but didn’t want to talk about it. I get it, and I wasn’t listening to you. That wasn’t fair of me.”
His smile becomes watery. “Thanks, Annie. And you did nothing wrong, so don’t get hung up on it.”
He chews another bite of pancake before swallowing and following up with, “There was something bothering me though, and it still kinda is. It’s kinda a big deal.” He sets his forks down gently. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, while Abed puts his non pancake-fork hand on his thigh. It makes him momentarily reboot before continuing with a burning warmth distracting him mildly.
“I’m bisexual…”
She’s quiet, covering her mouth with her hands, before pulling him into a massive hug. After a bit, she sits back down. “Thank you for telling me. By the looks of it, Abed already knew.” It’s not a question when she says it. Abed just nods.
Troy is scared to tell her the next part. He shouldn’t be, when the hard part is mostly over.
“...I came out to my dad, and it… it didn’t go well, to say the least.”
“Oh, Troy.” She grabs his hands, not expecting him to elaborate. She knows how it can be. “I wish you would’ve told me sooner, like before. I’m glad you’re telling me now though.”
After a beat passes, he asks, “How did you do it? Being abandoned by the person who should love you, and still coming out on top, how did you do it?”
Annie shakes her head, teary-eyed. “I didn’t. Not at least until I met you guys. I think that was worth it. It was worth all of the pain, to meet you all and be where I am without them.”
Abed squeezes his thigh. “I agree. I don’t think I was truly myself until I met you, Troy. No offense, Annie. You still make me myself.”
She smiles. She understands. “None taken.”
Troy shakes his head, trying to take away the memories that will now haunt him. The memories that do haunt him. He knows he should be glad that his dad is out of his life, but he isn’t. He just isn’t.
“Troy?” Abed asks, moving his hand to cup his cheeks and wipe tears away. He didn’t realize he started crying again.
“I-I’m sorry,” He mumbles. “I should be happy that he’s gone but I’m not.”
Annie comes from the other side of the table to wrap her arms around his neck and shoulders. Her chin leans against the top of his head.
“You don’t need to be. You’re allowed to miss someone who wasn’t the best to you. It’s what makes you who you are. It’s why you’re human.”
He sobs, not being able to hold it back. Abed and Annie hold him close.
No one tries to make him talk at the study group, but he finds himself wanting to tell them.
Pierce is asleep again when he looks.
“Uh, guys? I think… I think I want to tell you something.”
“Is it that you're gay and in love with Abed? Because we already knew that.” Jeff says in one breath, not even pausing to look up from his incessant texting to no one.
He sputters, taken aback. “Wha– No! I’m not in love with Abed! I think. Wait…”
“You can think about that later, Troy. Tell us.” Annie says. He’s thankful for her distraction.
“Okay. I’m… bisexual. You guys kind of figured it out already by the sound of it, but there’s been something else bothering me. Something else that happened. And… it’s pretty serious.”
Jeff raises an eyebrow and looks up from his phone. When he realizes just how serious Troy is though from his face, he sets his phone face down on the table and laces his fingers. Britta does the same, but in a more therapiz-y way. It scares him, but in a very different way.
“Okay, then, what is it?”
He takes a deep breath, then looks to Abed. He nods in encouragement, before offering his hand. He looks back down at the table.
“I saw my dad… He’s the type where he always was disappointed in me no matter what I did. …When I joined football it was because he thought I was weak. Girly. He wanted me to change. I wanted to impress him, so I did it. Then the next thing I knew it was scholarships and things he would say to me like, ‘Faggots don’t play football, it’s a good thing you do.’ …Then, the night at that party I saw an out. A way where I could do what I want. Not be what he wanted. As soon as I did it, I regretted it because the pain of his disappointment was worse than the pain in my collarbone.”
“I thought over time it would heal– our relationship. And it did… sort of. He always would tell me how disappointed he was that I was forced to quit football. That sucked. But it was nice to have him not pressure me as much.”
“Then, I thought about the dumbest thing. I thought that it was time to come out to him. Making the dumbest decisions about big life choices is what I do. And of course it didn’t go well, because why would a Jehovah’s Witness of all people accept a gay son? He… he didn’t like it too much to say the least…”
He trails off, replaying the scene in his head. The smell of whiskey, the crash of glass, the stain against the wall. The slap on his cheek.
He realizes everyone is quiet, and when he looks up he feels horrified.
Annie and Shirley have tears streaming down their faces. Britta gives him a complex look, one that could look like pity but this time he knows is completely different. More genuine. Jeff sighs with weight and out of disappointment, shaking his head. He’s not looking at Troy. Worst of all, when he turns to Abed, his expression is blank– unreadable.
“Uh– okay, you all clearly need a moment to process, so I’m just going to go to the bathroom. I promise I’m not leaving.”
He gets to the bathroom and breathes a sigh of relief in front of the mirror. He didn’t cry this time, too focused on trying not to look at everyone. He’s mortified by what he’s just done. He doesn’t notice Abed following him in.
“Troy,” He says. Troy turns around, surprised, but too tired to argue.
“Abed, why–”
“Why didn’t you tell me about all the football stuff? And the other stuff about your dad?”
He opens his mouth and closes it. “You wouldn’t understand,” He finally settles on. “It’s not like your mom. She’s not there for you like my dad is. She’s also not the worst.”
“You’re upset. You don’t mean that.”
He sighs. “I am. I know, and I don’t.”
“I get what you mean, though. He’s a prominent figure in your life. I’m not mad about it anymore, and I know you wouldn’t know how to phrase it so bluntly. But you’re wrong about my mom. She is the worst– she left me when I was young just because I was different. Your dad just did it differently.”
He’s silent for a while, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“He was what I always wanted to be. What I still want to be.”
Abed doesn’t say anything for a bit, studying Troy carefully. “You realize that you could never be what he was. He was a jerk. You’re not.”
He shakes his head. “I know. I wanted to be strong like him. Manly like him. Normal… like him.”
“Troy,” He wraps his arms around his neck, scratching at the nape of his hair. “You have to believe me when I say this, not because friends don’t lie– but that’s true– it’s because you are my best friend and I love you.”
He tears up when he hears that.
“You are normal. You’re manly and strong, and all of the things you want from him. And he sucks for not seeing that. I know how it sucks.” Troy gets pulled into a hug, which makes him break.
“I’m sorry, Abed. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t say that, Troy. Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.”
After a while passes, Abed says, “You don’t want to go to class now.”
He laughs, watery. “Yeah, you assumed right.”
He holds a hand out. “Let’s go home.”
Home.
Troy realizes that his home is with Abed, and Annie, and the rest of the study group. That his home was with his mom before he couldn’t contact her. Home was never his father’s house.
It’s nice to hear the word ‘home’ from Abed, his home.
“Yeah,” He affirms. It feels right. “Let’s go home.”
“Abed,” Troy says, laying his head on Abed’s chest. They’re cuddling on the top bunk with Inspector Spacetime playing on the laptop. “Remember when Jeff said I was in love with you?”
Abed looks at him, then brushes his fingers in his hair. “Yes, I do. Is it about what we’re doing? Because–”
“No! Yes? Sort of! I guess after the whole coming out thing with telling the study group about my dad, that comment has stuck with me… But, I’m not exactly sure how I feel about you…”
“You can kiss me.”
“What?” Troy squeaks.
“You can kiss me.”
“I– I heard, I just– Abed, that’s insane!”
“Is it?”
“I– no, I’m– I’m just nervous, okay?”
Abed turns his head to look at him, his fingers caressing his chin gently. Troy feels his heartbeat with his entire body, especially in his ears. He feels himself get lost in his doe brown eyes.
“You don’t need to be. It’s just me.”
He slowly leans in, giving room for Troy to pull away. Their lips touch, and he feels an entire warmth flow through him. It’s comfort– knowing he’s safe and irreversibly, absolutely head over heels for Abed. Fireworks go off on his brain, which is now crying. He grabs at the hem of Abed’s shirt, balling it up in his hands.
When Abed pulls away, and they look at each other inches apart, Troy immediately pulls him back in quickly.
“Guess that answers your own question,” Abed mumbles through smiley kisses.
“Guess so,” Says Troy, also smiling too wide. They sit there with their foreheads touching, not being able to kiss from their smiles. A giggle escapes out of Troy, as he says, “Thanks, Abed. For liking me.”
“Of course, and always.”