A warning before you read- this is MUCH darker than anything I've written for Community before. Just so you know.

Health Sciences and Blood Typology

This is not the first time Britta Perry has had a pregnancy scare.

It should come as no surprise to anyone that she's always been rather lenient about and very open with her sexuality. She's always been extremely careful- well, as careful as she can be, anyways- whenever she does anything with anyone. It also can't hurt that her mother put her on birth control when she was fourteen- she said it was to regulate Britta's menstrual cycle, but Britta knew her mother had always been nervous about her wild partying and the fact that, well, she was kind of a loose cannon.

The first scare she had was at sixteen, just months after she and her high school boyfriend had started having sex. Her period was about a week late and she had absolutely freaked out, afraid of becoming a statistic like those Candies commercials always talked about. She bought a pregnancy test while at an out of town drugstore and paid in cash so her parents couldn't track her expenditures. In the grungy bathroom stall, she nearly cried with joy as only the control line appeared in the urine-slick window. She never told a soul.

At twenty-one, she had been dating a thirty-two-year-old drug dealer (don't judge, this was during the anarchist days) and again had another scare. This was around the time her parents disowned her- or she disowned her parents, depending on the perspective- so she knew even if this was real, they wouldn't know. This thought somewhat soothed her until she took the pregnancy test and it came out positive. A week went by and she never told a soul. The night she sat down with her boyfriend to finally tell him, she excused herself to go to the bathroom to liven up her appearance before he dumped her (that she was sure of) and uttered a sigh of relief when she realized she had finally gotten her period.

It turns out her boyfriend was going to dump her anyway, regardless of what she had to say.

So, this is not the first time she had had a pregnancy scare. The careless actions of sixteen-year-old and twenty-one-year-old Britta had caused an intense fright and anxiety that she knew she shouldn't have had to deal with. She wasn't sure she wanted kids in the future, but if she did eventually get over her fear of commitment and the male population in general, she knew she would want to settle down and have kids her own way. She shouldn't dread it, shouldn't be scared, shouldn't be nervous if the pregnancy was to continue and develop. So Britta prepared herself and took control of her protection methods, because if there was anything she learned from her pregnancy scares, it was that you could never, ever trust the guy to come prepared.

This is not the first pregnancy scare Britta Perry has ever had.

But this is the most frightened she has ever been.

She's sure she hasn't taken a breath in the two minutes since she'd gotten the test results back. This time shouldn't have been any different than the last. But somehow, Britta could feel it deep inside her; this presence, this weight, this… child. You could call it mother's intuition (and Britta cringes at the term, so you shouldn't), but somehow she knew this time was different. This time, it's real. This time, it's frightening. This time it's not going to work out in the end. She feels around aimlessly before grabbing her phone and wallet, leaving her bathroom, but still unable to tear her eyes away from the sight.

She has to do something- anything- to get away from the bathroom counter, where a little plastic tube rests innocently, the clear screen showing nothing but a tiny, bright blue plus sign.

It's a cold November night, but that doesn't stop Jeff Winger from deciding to go for a run.

Has he always been this proactive about fitness? Of course. He was the one in physical education classes that always took their games too far; the bothersome individual who got annoyed if someone only half-assed the class. I mean, why bother even showing up? Plus, Jeff would be lying if he said the personal benefits weren't a factor. He's not only been in shape, but he likes to think he looks good (of course, it wouldn't kill people to tell him once in a while, would it?). And yeah, it could have something to do with his mother and a certain Indian girl costume…

But anyway.

November is his favorite month to run at night, even though it's a bit dangerous (darkness, cars, deer, and what-have-you). He loves the crispness to the air; loves the sound of the leaves crunching beneath his sneakers as he jogs between them, breathing heavily but evenly. It's cold but not too cold; not cold enough to deter him from running, but cold enough to feel the chilly fall air in his veins as he tests his physical endurance once more. The other benefit is the solitude; ever since Greendale, Jeff hadn't really had time to himself. So he likes to be alone, just him and the stars above, as he contemplates his life and how's taken such a turn.

If only he knew.

Less than a week had gone by after he and Britta decided to stop seeing each other before they both realized that agreement was ridiculous. In the end, it was his weakness and he texted her about meeting up (with the intonation of other things planned, mind you) and she had responded saying she was already on her way to his apartment. They had continued to hook up all throughout the summer and, now that school was back in session for a third year, they… hadn't really stopped. Jeff smiles realizing this now, and tries hard to suppress the big question: why? Why was it so impossible not to be with Britta? Why couldn't he go back to being the guy who had meaningless sex with random women? Why Britta and why not, well, Annie? Why? Why? Why?

He knows the answer. He just doesn't want to admit it.

Turning the corner, he notes the small park that centers around where the current two roads intersect. There's not much to it; it's a few benches, a small fountain, and then a ton of foliage which was all turning red, orange, and gold with the changing season. It was nearly pitch black, for the park had just one streetlight at the south corner and Jeff notices it's a bit eerie. For a place that's so warm and welcoming during the day, it sure turns into a scene out of a horror movie at night. He shakes his head and continues on his path, but does a double take when he realizes a person is sitting at the edge of the fountain. Did they have a death wish?

Wait a minute. This "person" is a woman. A blonde woman. Wearing a tattered Radiohead t-shirt that Jeff has definitely seen before.

He jogs his way over to her and she doesn't even look up. It's clear from her frozen and hunched over frame that she's been here for a while. Her curls are crispy and a few strands frosted over with the beginnings of icicles, so it's pretty clear that her hair had been wet before she'd stepped into the frigid night. She's shivering violently, her entire body is covered in goose bumps, and her lips are turning blue. In that moment Jeff curses himself for not bringing a jacket because, look at her. She's going to get hypothermia if she doesn't take care of this situation and fast.

"Jesus Britta," Jeff exclaims, sitting beside her and immediately wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She feels like ice. "What the fuck are you doing out here?"

There's silence for a while before she looks over at him, her eyes glassy. "It's cold."

He rolls his eyes at her stupidity. "No shit, Sherlock. It's like twenty-two degrees outside. Why aren't you wearing a coat?"

"It wasn't cold before," Britta says, but her voice is lower, sharper, not the normal tone and Jeff's honestly concerned.

"Well come on," He stands, bringing her with him and begins to walk in the direction of his apartment. "Let's go get some coffee, or something-"

"I can't have coffee," She says monotonously, staring at the ground and still shivering viciously.

"What?" Jeff asks and shakes his head because who knows how long she's been out here? She's probably delirious. "Look, I'll even pay. You need to get warm and there's a Starbucks just around-"

"I can't have coffee," Britta repeats, her voice still grave. "Or sushi. Or alcohol. I can't go in hot tubs, or on amusement park rides, or go horseback riding. I can't change my cat's litter, or come in contact with reptiles, or use over-the-counter medication. I can't go waterskiing, or scuba diving, or downhill skiing. I'm not saying that I would do most of that stuff… But if I wanted to, I couldn't."

"Well, as insightful as that was," Jeff teases, but Britta's not having any of it. "Is there a reason why you just gave me a list of a shit you can't do?"

She stares at him and waits until everything she's said clicks. His entire visage falls and his world comes crumbling down with it. But as much as he wants to walk away, to get some air, to take some time to think this through, he doesn't. He doesn't drop his arm from around her because she's still ice cold to the touch, and clearly this news wasn't the best part of her day, either. She's been driven to near suicide by hypothermia by one tiny little baby.

"Oh my God, you're preg…" He can't bring himself to say the full word. They've stopped walking just outside his building, but they haven't gone inside.

She looks down but nods shamefully and Jeff closes his eyes, saying nothing but inside, he's screaming. This is the last thing he was expecting when he set off on his run just a half hour prior. He's not sure what to do or say, and when Britta motions towards the street and begins to walk away, he doesn't even stop her. She's halfway down the road before he comes to his senses and jogs to catch up with her, still not saying a word, but guiding her back to his apartment. She's still freezing and he doesn't want her walking home this late anyway. She doesn't respond to his warm gesture, but is grateful anyway.

After all, this is their problem. They might as well deal with it together.

Weeks go by and Britta visits her OB/GYN to confirm what she already knows is true. Though her doctor seems thrilled, Britta is still very wary of the situation she really wants no part of. She doesn't feel ready to be a mother and knows Jeff doesn't want to be a father, so everything is weighing pretty heavily on her shoulders right about now. She knows she has options, as it's still early on in her pregnancy. She could carry the baby to term and hand him or her off to a family who wanted a child, a family better suited for parenting and more deserving of the child's love.

Or she could get an abortion.

Britta's no stranger to abortion; she hasn't ever gotten one, but a few of her friends from her past have done so after finding themselves in this identical situation. She knows the stress they went through, the anxiety that haunted them before the procedure and the depression and guilt that followed. But in the end, they all managed to make it through virtually unscathed. They all continued to lead their lives as if nothing had happened, even though their lives had been forever altered.

It was still an option.

She and Jeff have been… well, their relationship is definitely much more strained now than it was in the past. She can tell he doesn't want this, doesn't want any part in whatever is going to happen, but at the same time, he isn't going to come right out and say so. He isn't going to do anything to stop her from making whatever decision she feels is right, because, well, let's face it. He's done enough. The night she told him she was pregnant, they barely said two words to each other. They sat on his couch until four in the morning while the news sunk in gradually that in just nine short months, a baby would be sitting between them.

They decide to tell the study group the first week of December, eight weeks into Britta's pregnancy. Shirley takes it the hardest, thoroughly upset at the prospect of a child born out of wedlock. She says a prayer for all three immortal souls. Abed points out a slew of movie and television references that neither Jeff nor Britta pay attention to. Annie pulls a face and offers a tight-lipped, "Congratulations." Both Troy and Pierce begin to think of ridiculous hipster baby names the two would possibly consider (Clementine, Daisy, Atticus, Hudson, Sebastian, and Delilah are the few they come up with before Britta tells them to stick it where the sun don't shine).

All in all, everyone takes it pretty well, considering.

They all filter out of the study room once they've finished going over their Biology assignment, leaving Jeff and Britta behind. They're both staring down at their respective textbooks, awkwardly trying to avoid the other, before Jeff breaks the silence. "How are you feeling?"

"Not bad," She responds quietly, still not looking at him. "Only a month left of the first trimester, so… Hopefully the morning sickness will go away."

Jeff agrees. "Yeah, it's always good not to be vomiting everywhere."

Britta nods. "Yeah. Exactly."

Jeff glances at her and sighs. This is not the kind of relationship he wants with Britta; the awkwardness, the tension, the instability. He wants more than anything for this to return to normal, where they can tease and poke fun at each other without a care in the world. He wishes he could go back and erase the entire night from both of their memories. "So what are we going to do?" He asks tentatively and finally, Britta looks up at him.

"I don't know," She says helplessly. "I've been thinking about the options, but…"

When she doesn't continue, Jeff says, "I'm not going to stop you from doing whatever you want. You know that, right? You're the one who has to actually have the baby so… It's your decision."

Britta bites her lip and nods slowly. "Okay. I have been thinking about abortion… But I don't think I can do it."

Jeff's eyes widen. He didn't know she'd actually considered it. "Well… Shirley would never forgive you."

"I don't care what Shirley thinks," Britta shakes her head. "But everyone else… I'm going to show up to school looking like a whale and…"

"Okay first of all, you're not the first pregnant woman at Greendale," Jeff tells her. "And second, everyone's going to stare at me too! I mean, no one will want to sleep with me again. It'll be all, 'Don't sleep with him! He impregnates people!'"

"You?" Britta questions incredulously. "How could you make this about you? This has virtually no effect on you at all! You've done your part already, Fertile Myrtle!"

"No effect on me?" Jeff shoots back. "I'm going to be a father! This has completely changed my life. Ruined it, even!"

"Look, I didn't ask for this to happen!" Britta shouts, standing and gathering her things. "And if you're going to be like this, then I'd rather do everything alone!"

"Good, maybe you should do everything alone," Jeff tells her as she makes her way to the door. "You're used to it. I'd hate to fuck up your routine."

"Believe me," She calls back. "You already have."

The following week, Jeff and Britta have still not set aside their differences. There's a tense air during study group as the Greendale parents refuse to speak to one another, look at each other, or even acknowledge the other's presence. The week goes on and nothing is resolved; the other five members share glances and whispers of plans to reunite the two, but nothing prevails. It seems as if the unhappy couple has truly met its untimely demise. But honestly, there couldn't be a worse time for this to happen.

On Friday, Jeff enters the study room and tosses his books carelessly on the table in front of him, pulling back his seat and dropping into it just as haphazardly. He thumbs through his phone and waits for the group's banter to get out of hand so he can break it up… Only to realize the only other person seated at the table is Annie Edison. She's scribbling furiously in her notebook, probably coming up with a lesson plan and a way to execute their studying that morning when she notices he's staring at her and glances up at him, curiously.

"What's wrong?"

"Where is everyone?" Jeff asks, motioning towards the other five empty seats.

"Oh. Shirley's going to be late because she's dropping off the boys at school, Abed and Troy were here, but they went to get a bagel," Annie lists and then adds, "And do we ever really know where Pierce is?"

Jeff nods and then probes, "And Britta?"

Annie shoots him a glance. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

He sighs and leans back in the chair. "No, you shouldn't. Britta and I aren't a 'thing,' regardless what might be happening in six months."

"Jeff, you and Britta have always been a 'thing,'" Annie points out. "Whatever's going on, I'm sure you can figure it out."

She goes back to her note-taking but Jeff still seems glum. "I just wish I could take it back. This is the last thing I need in my life right now."

"Okay, I'm going to stop you right there, because you and I both know that isn't true," Annie stops writing and folds her hands over her spiral notebook. "You wouldn't take it back, Jeff, this whole thing with Britta. We both know you wouldn't, because the only reason you even made this stupid study group was because you wanted to sleep with her!"

He thinks this over. "Yeah, but-"

"And this doesn't have anything to do with Britta, either," Annie continues. "You don't want this baby. Why don't you come right out and say it? You don't want to be a father because you don't think you can be."

"Watch it," Jeff growls at her but she rolls her eyes, unfazed by his tone.

"Watch what? Watch you push people away at the first sign of a need for commitment?" Annie asks and Jeff is silent. "Jeff, this baby didn't ask to be conceived, either. But the least you can do is make it so that when he or she is born, they never feel that they're unloved. You need to get over it already because, like it or not, this baby is coming."

"Life is full of crazy surprises," Annie concludes. "We just have to deal with them as they come along. Especially if they're things we can't change."

Abed and Troy reenter the study room, bagels in hand, as Jeff re-thinks what Annie's just said. Once again, the youngest member of the study group proves to be the smartest and the most mature. He's being ridiculous and he needs to get over himself because this baby isn't going to stop coming no matter how much he may want it to. And, he realizes, if he really wants to prove himself, he needs to step up to the plate and not turn out like his father. He's going to be the best father he can be to show William Winger that this job is not one he should've ever given up.

The more he thinks about it, as Shirley and Pierce enter the room and take their places at the study table, the more excited Jeff becomes. No hipster names, he decides upfront, just to spite Troy and Pierce. Maybe something old-fashioned, like Charlotte or Henry. He imagines a tiny little baby with bright blue eyes, a pointy, upturned nose, and golden blonde curls. A child who can talk his way out of anything, a teenager who charms the hell out everyone around, a young adult heading off to law school to make her father proud. He inadvertently grins and turns to Britta to let her know they're good again.

But Britta's chair is empty.

Everyone is buzzing about her whereabouts as ten, fifteen, and then twenty minutes go by. They begin studying and then stop as a half hour passes and still no Britta. Everyone tries her cell phone, but it goes straight to voicemail. Britta never turns her phone off. She also never missed study group, and even in the few occasions where she was late, she always arrived with twenty or so minutes past the time they said they'd meet. Jeff glances nervously at the clock and then at her chair again before the realization dawns on him.

Something is wrong.

"I think I'll go check on her," Jeff announces after it's been over an hour since she should have shown up.

"Maybe she's sick," Shirley proposes. "You know, you can't take over-the-counter medications during pregnancy..."

They all add to the list of things pregnant women can't do while Jeff slips out of the room and down the hall towards the library's front door. He tries not to think overdramatically as he drives towards her apartment. She overslept, most likely. She keeps forgetting to change the batteries in her alarm clock and this morning was no different. He'd probably walk in to her frantically dressing and tossing books and things everywhere, cursing at him aimlessly while he teases her for it. This thought makes him chuckle as he parks just outside her building and buzzes himself in, having learned the security code long before.

The front door of her apartment is locked, but he has an emergency key and lets himself in anyway. Everything's dark and that's the first thing he notices; the curtains are drawn as if it was the middle of the night and not eleven in the morning and the lights are all switched off. Now he's sure she overslept and he walks carefully through her apartment, down the hallway towards her bedroom. He calls out to her and thinks he hears a faint response, but it's coming from the bathroom, not the bedroom, and he's thrown off his track. The door to the bathroom is closed, but Jeff eases it open, and then he finds her, his eyes widening in shock.

There's Britta, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and leaning against the bathroom wall, sitting in a pool of her own blood.

"Britta…" is all he gets a chance to say before she looks up at him from her position on the floor and his heart nearly breaks in half. Her face is tear-stained and she looks delicate and broken, like a porcelain doll, cracked raw and ragged. All she can do is shake her head before she tumbles over the edge again, fresh tears cascading down her cheeks and her shoulders shaking with sobs, her torn frame wracked with guilt and with grief. Jeff's still taking in the blood- there's so much blood- but he sits down beside her, wary of the mess and unsure what to do.

"It's over," She cries, wiping her tears on the backs of her hands. "It's all over."

"What's over?" Jeff asks for clarification because though this may be an obvious situation to some, he is clueless. "What happened?"

"I lost… I-I…" Britta's sure she'll vomit if she utters the sentence, but forces herself to push through. "I lost the baby."

Jeff closes his eyes as she says these words as, for a second time, his world comes crashing down around him. It's ironic, really, and not in a good way. He didn't want this child; he dreaded it, really. But he was just beginning to get excited; just beginning to imagine a life with him, Britta, and this tiny little baby who would most likely be a combination of the worst traits known to man. He was ready to accept his responsibility, ready to stick it to the man, ready to prove to himself that he could be a good father despite the fact that he didn't have one.

And now, he isn't going to get that chance.

Just as he had comforted her the night they both found out, Jeff wraps an arm around her and brings her body into his as she continues to mourn the loss of their child. It frightens him seeing her like this, because he had only ever seen her cry once before but it wasn't like this. She is one of the strongest women he knows and this strength is one of the things he loves most about her. So seeing her now like this, broken and fragile, scares him, and as much as he doesn't want to cause more pain, he asks, "How did it happen?"

She takes several breaths before answering. "I've had a stomachache for the past few days, but it wasn't anything serious. I just thought it was indigestion or something. It didn't bother me too much; it was just uncomfortable, so I dealt with it."

"And then this morning," Britta continues, her voice shaky. "Around three or four, I woke up to these awful cramps. Just awful. It was like… It was like the worst menstrual cramps you could ever have in your life. So then I started to get worried and when I peeled back the covers, I noticed there was… There was blood on my sheets."

"I've been here ever since," Britta sighs. "I stopped bleeding an hour ago. It's gone… It's all gone."

Jeff winces at the idea that she had had to go through this alone. He squeezes her shoulder in a sign of comfort and then says, "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up. This place is a mess."

They clean and she showers and then they reconvene on her couch, the front curtains open to shed light on the gloomy situation. But everything's different, now. There's no half-hearted banter or shallow pettiness or even the awkwardness of yore. They're sitting side by side, but they both feel so alone and neither one knows what to say to make the other feel better. It's hard giving sympathy for a situation you really didn't want in the first place. It's even harder mourning a baby you didn't get the chance to know and love.

Britta finally says, "I'm sorry."

Jeff's eyes immediately snap to hers. "You're sorry? For what?"

"For this. For everything," She tells him. "It's all my fault."

"Oh Britta," Jeff sighs. "No, it's not."

"Yes it is. It's my fault," Britta explains. "It's karma, Jeff. When I first bought that pregnancy test, all I could think of was, if it came out negative, I'd be so relieved. And when it came out positive, I was so unhappy. I didn't want this baby. But then… Something changed. It became a part of me. I didn't want to let it go… I want the baby now… But now it doesn't want me."

"Why can't I do anything right?" She asks him, and if possible, his heart breaks even further. "Why is it that whenever I try to do something good, it always fails? Something always goes wrong. I try to help people and that falls to shit. I try to turn my life around and that fails. I decide not to get an abortion, to give this baby life, and… it dies anyway. What is it, Jeff? What is it about me that just attracts nothing but bad luck? I just feel so guilty… And it's my fault. It's all my fault."

"Britta, no. No it's not." Jeff insists. "These things happen sometimes, unfortunately. You didn't make it happen and there's nothing you could've done to stop it. It's hard; I know it's hard, but you have to see that this isn't your fault. And there's nothing wrong with you, Britta. We make fun of you because we know you can take it but… maybe sometimes we're a little too hard on you. You know I've never doubted you, Britta. You can do anything."

"Yeah," She responds coldly. "Except have a baby, apparently."

Jeff shakes his head, wrapping an arm around her again as she leans into him. "We'll have one, someday."

Britta eyes him. "We?"

"We," He emphasizes. "Are going to get through this. And I should be the one apologizing to you. You've got nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one that told you to do everything alone and I shouldn't have. I'm so sorry and I'm feeling just as guilty… I was just starting to get used to this, you know? I've been thinking about her all day."

"Her?"Britta asks again and Jeff nods.

"Oh yeah, the baby was going to be a girl," He decides and Britta smiles slightly. It's the first time he's seen her smile in a few weeks and he's pleased with himself. "She was going to have your eyes and hair, my nose. She was going to be an argumentative little thing, always getting her way because she's too spoiled. She'd be a vegetarian, because she'd want to make Mommy happy, but she'd eat meat with Daddy when her mother wasn't looking."

"We'd name her something classic, like Charlotte or Elizabeth," Jeff continues as Britta's eyes once again fill with tears. "She'd go to church on Sundays with Shirley, because Shirley would never let us have a child and not have her baptized. She'd get dresses and dolls from Annie, go to the movies on Friday nights with Troy and Abed, and never hang around Pierce without our supervision. Then she'd announce she was going into family law to make both of us happy, because not only would she be practicing law, but she'd be helping families in need too."

"She would basically be perfect," Jeff concludes. "Because I can't imagine her being anything else."

Britta's crying when Jeff looks at her again, and he wipes her tears away and kisses her. He kisses her for comfort, for solace, for placation. He kisses her out of tenderness, out of adoration, out of love. He kisses her in grief, in sorrow, and in mourning because their child, their beautiful little girl or bouncing baby boy, would never be. They kiss as they soak in the air of lamentation, holding onto Jeff's description of their perfect little girl because in the end, that's all they'll ever have.

They'll get through this; they're sure of it. But for now, mourning is all they know.

I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful—a faery's child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she wept, and sigh'd fill sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.

~ "La Belle Dame Sans Merci", John Keats