W/N: Inspired by a fic written by the very talented Jezunya, thank you for the creative juices. A bit of research and I very much like this fitting Jeff, especially considering some of the changes of character from Series 1 to Series 2 and on… he seems so much more even in series 2, so…
It was unusual for Jeff to hang back before lunch; usually racing off to get at the chicken fingers before the rest of the college (not that they ever managed it). But instead, he'd been sitting at the table after the rest of the group departed, saying he'd be along in a bit. Playing on his phone, acting like he didn't really care. But after the rest of them had gone, he would look up, glance around, then pull something else from his pocket. Abed stood almost directly outside the doors, as Jeff always seemed to neglect to glance directly behind him. Just like in shows. Made sense. As he observed, having finally decided to figure what the ex-lawyer was doing, it clicked.
"What are you taking, Jeff?" Abed asked, stepping back into the room. Jeff almost choked, jerking forward, twisting around to stare at the younger man and hide whatever was on the table in his large hand. But the faint rattle was distinct. "It's fine, I know you've been taking them for the last few days. I just wondered what it was. You never struck me as the type to take recreational drugs, so they must be prescribed." Abed's head tilted slightly to the side, and Jeff sighed, lightly throwing the little bottle to his friend, who caught it neatly and came over to sit at the table, in the seat Britta normally took. "Anti-psychotics. What was your diagnosis?" the dark eyes lifted again to meet his.
"It's, uh." Jeff sighed, wrinkling his features a little in distaste. "It's not something I really want to talk about, Abed."
"I won't tell. You don't have to be playing the hard-ass character all the time, Jeff. But I get it. You have an ego problem and you don't like admitting there's anything wrong with you." Jeff gave him a deadpan dirty stare, "Did I misread your face again?"
"Yes, but that's not the point." Jeff tapped his phone on the desk, turning it in his fingertips, scowling at the table in his usual fashion. "I have been paying a lot of money to a very good, very experienced shrink ever since - just after I got debarred, and they never mentioned that I might have anything other than the normal stresses of someone in my situation."
"You need a new shrink. You've been showing clear signs of several severe disorders since the first day, the worst of which could be sociopathy and the mildest could be anxiety." Jeff gave him a confused stare, "But a lot of them are to do with your state of mind. May I guess? I know the drug, and from the way you reacted in several events last year, I'd say you were bipolar. Your narcissism tends to get a lot worse when you're surrounded by things that might damage your ego, and I've noticed-" Jeff lifted a hand, and Abed went silent.
"Yeah. Bipolar." he murmured, barely just audible. "Why do you know so much about this stuff? I thought movies were your thing."
"Yeah, but a lot of movie characters have issues like that, and it pays to know what the filmmakers are trying to display. Plus, when you've been through as many tests as I have, you pick up some of the terminology." Jeff gave Abed a long, even look. "I told you before, Jeff. I'm a study of human behaviour. It's how I figure a lot of it out, and how I figured people like you don't like to talk about it. You should keep taking them. Are they helping?" the question felt tacked on, like Abed had realised it was the right thing to ask, socially.
"Yeah. They're helping, I guess. I feel more… even. When I get into what I now know is a depressive slump, I can get really … nasty. You saw how I was with Rich." his lip curled slightly, unable to help it, "But, uh. It helps keep my temper in check. And maybe I don't feel quite like I need to spend so long making myself look passable because that's one of the only ways I could feel valid wow that slipped out." he looked away, slightly uncomfortable.
"Do you need to take them with food? Is that why you have them before lunch?"
"No, it's just… easier to remember. And that way the group don't see me. That's the idea, anyway."
"Why don't you take them in the morning?"
"Abed, you've known me long enough to know I don't get close to alive until I've had coffee and slept through another two classes." Jeff replied, edge of sarcasm clear, but a hint of a smirk too. Putting the orange jar into his inner pocket, he stood, unfolding himself from the chair. A lot of people thought that sloping way of sitting was all attitude, but hey - he was six foot three. That's a lot of leg to fit under a desk.
"Shall we go see what drama they've caused in the time we've been gone?" he asked, smiling at Abed, who mimicked. That was still slightly unnerving, but at least the kid was learning. "I'm sure something's caught fire by now at least."
"Sure. I won't tell anyone." Abed had stood as well, and made to walk out of the room, pausing and looking back at Jeff. "Taking them isn't a failure. You're still the same person, Jeff. Just more in control." and then he led the way, leading Jeff feeling somewhat shellshocked in his wake.