Title: Seven Characters In Search Of An Exit (1/2)
Author: Carly
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Study Group, J/A
Spoilers: Up to 3.07
Rating/Warnings: PG
Word Count: 3096
Disclaimer: I don't own Community.
Summary: The study group become trapped and look for an escape. But is one of them searching for an escape from something else?
Notes: I'm imagining this is set not long after 3.07. Title inspiration comes from one of my favourite Twilight Zone episodes ('Five Characters In Search Of An Exit').


Britta led the study group down the concrete stairs into the dank, dimly lit school basement. "Did anyone bring the plastic ziplock bags to scrape the mold into?"

Everyone looked expectantly towards Annie, who rolled her eyes. "Oh sure, Annie's the study bunny, she'll have everything so no one else has to bother."

The group remained unmoved. "… So do you have any?" asked Troy.

Pursing her lips, Annie reluctantly opened her backpack. "I have small, medium, large and," she paused to read the package, "'Dayum that's a big sandwich' extra-large bags."

"I think I've got that brand at home," said Pierce. "Although it's not meant for sandwiches if you catch my drift."

"Pierce, no one wants to catch anything from you, let alone something to do with your genitals," said Jeff, edging away from the wall so the mildew wouldn't ruin his shirt. "Can we just hurry this thing up so we can go home? It's late enough as it is."

"It's like six thirty at night, man," said Troy, taking some bags from Annie. "What are you rushing home to? The 'Gramps and MeeMaw Variety Hour' on the oldies network?"

"No, wise guy. I want to get home because, unlike some people, I actually enjoy escaping this insane asylum once in a while."

"Our school isn't that bad, Jeff," said Shirley passing some bags to Abed. "Today in the ladies' room we had a new lavender air freshener installed," she beamed.

Jeff stared at her. "Well gee, what was I thinking? Where can I sign up for another four years of lavender-scented hell?"

"The men's room smells like a petting zoo," Troy murmured.

"Guys," said Annie, holding out her hands in a placating fashion, "let's just stop bickering and collect this black mold for our Biology assignment. I don't want to give Professor Kane another reason to fail us this semester."

"Yeah, well, you know who you can blame for that," said Jeff.

"Todd," they replied in unison.

"Exactly."

"Turtle-loving hippy," Pierce sneered.

Abed inspected a portion of the back wall with the oversized magnifying glass he'd brought in. "I found a patch of mold in the shape of a Transformer. We should start here."

"Awesome," breathed Troy, joining his friend for a closer look.

The rest of the group spread out as best they could in the small room while Annie handed around latex gloves and popsicle sticks to scrape the mold with. She gave another pair of gloves to Pierce soon after when he punctured his original set trying to make cow udders.

Annie was digging away at a particularly ingrained patch of mold when she noticed Jeff standing idly at the base of the stairs watching them work. "Sorry, did I miss the memo?" she said, whirling towards him.

"And what memo would that be?" said Jeff.

"The one where you told everyone about your telekinetic powers, because I'm not sure how else you're getting the assignment done from over there."

He held up his bag with the tiniest amount of mold at the bottom and smirked. "It's already done, milady."

"Don't 'milady' your way out of this one, Jeff, that's the lamest effort I've ever seen - and Pierce is in the room!"

"Hey!" Pierce yelped.

"Do you or do you not currently have another latex glove udder sticking out the top of your pants?" Annie asked, without even turning around.

"No… I haven't put it in there yet."

Annie raised her eyebrows at Jeff as if to say, 'See?'

"We don't even need that much, Annie," said Jeff. "By the time everyone puts their samples together we're going to have enough to create a tiny mold man."

"Or mold woman," Britta interjected.

"Or mold shutup."

"Can we call it Winston?" asked Troy.

"What about 'Fergus the Fungus'?" suggested Abed.

"Enough about the stupid non-existent mold man!" yelled Jeff, just as the door at the top of the stairs slammed shut. Everyone gaped at one another before bolting upwards in a disorderly fashion. Jeff reached the top first and rattled the doorknob, but it was locked into place. He tried again, yanking the handle back with all his strength, but it made no difference.

"Please tell me we're not stuck," said Shirley, warily.

"Maybe it just needs some more elbow grease?" said Pierce.

"Or maybe it just needs a woman's touch," said Britta, stepping forward to try her luck. She twisted the doorknob a few times before giving up. "Yep, it's locked."

"Thanks for that, Sherlock," snarked Jeff, before turning hopefully towards Annie. "You're just about to tell us you have a key in that Boy Scout backpack of yours, aren't you?"

Annie's face colored. "I didn't think we needed one; the door's always usually open. Chang's idea of security is to put a piece of string across the entryway to see if anyone walks through it."

"And now we're trapped. Classic sitcom staple," murmured Abed. He noticed six pairs of eyes lock onto him. "What?"

"Abed," Jeff began, in a strained tone, "is this one of your set-ups where you get to live out another one of your random TV fantasies?"

"I already told you, I don't do bottle episodes, Jeff," he said, checking out the door with his magnifying glass. "Besides, if I were going to do a group episode I'd put us in some kickass costumes first. Maybe do it at Disneyland for a vacation special."

Jeff glowered at him before pounding on the door. "Hey!" he called out. "Can anyone hear me? Hello? … I'm trapped and I have no shirt on!" He paused before meeting the confused expressions on his friends' faces. "I thought the Dean might have been lurking around," he shrugged. "Worth a shot."

"What about our cell phones?" said Annie, reaching into her bag.

"I have no reception," said Shirley, checking hers.

"Me either," said Britta.

"Hang on, I think I do," said Troy in excitement. "Oh, wait, that's my battery life. And that's about to die too."

"So no one has any reception or internet connection?" Jeff clarified, getting a chorus of 'no' in return. "Well, that's just great."

They reluctantly made their way downstairs to think of their next course of action.

"Wait," said Annie, a flash of relief flooding her face. "We don't have to be the ones calling for help, maybe the help will come to us! Shirley, won't Andre be worried when you don't get home in the next hour or so?"

"Normally yes," said Shirley, "but he's taken the kids to his mom's for the evening so I could have some 'me time' and relax. It's only my second night away from Ben, too," she added quietly.

"Damn your selfishness!" growled Pierce, before instantly holding up his hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry… I just don't do well in enclosed areas."

Troy's eyes widened as he backed away. "He's got crazy old man space fever again."

"It's called claustrophobia, Troy," said Britta, "and it's manageable." She approached Pierce and gently rubbed his shoulder. "It's OK, Pierce," she said in a soothing tone. "I'm going to help you through this. We just need to take a trip on the memory plane and discover when you first started to feel like the walls were closing in on you."

Pierce started to breathe even heavier. "Oh God… walls crushing me… I'm going to vaporize before I finish my bucket list."

"You're not going to vaporize, Pierce."

"I still haven't porked Sophia Loren!" he cried; crumbling into a sitting position on the floor, head in hands, while Britta awkwardly patted him on the back.

"And she didn't even need a therapist's couch," said Jeff. "You are a treat to the profession as always."

"OK, so the Andre idea didn't pan out," said Annie, joining Britta in the awkward back patting. "Is there seriously no one else who'll be worried about us?"

"My emergency contact is Abed," said Troy. "And my second emergency contact is Inspector Spacetime."

"Aside from Shirley, none of us live with family," Jeff pointed out. "And all of our friends are in this room…"

"We really don't have anyone else to send out an overnight search party, do we?" said Annie sadly. "We could just drop off the face of the earth and no one would know."

The group quietly contemplated this thought, clutching their bags of mold as if they needed proof that they did exist at some point.

"Sitting around dwelling on things isn't going to get us anywhere," said Abed matter-of-factly. "We need to work together and hatch an escape plan. This usually runs a lot smoother via musical montage, but we'll just have to wing it for now."

Troy searched through the junk lying on the ground. "Maybe there's a secret trap door in here. Or a stash of grenades!"

"I don't know about anyone else, but I vote for not blowing ourselves up," said Jeff. "Maybe there's a toolbox or something we can use to pick the lock."

"I could try roundhouse kick the door?" suggested Annie. "My karate skills have gotten pretty good lately."

"My face can attest to that," muttered Shirley.

"Settle down, Nikita," Jeff directed at Annie. "Let's not add a broken leg to the list of problems piling up."

"Who says I'd break my leg?" said Annie defensively. "If I'm going to break anything it'd be your disillusions with my awesomeness."

"With your 'awesomeness'?" he smirked.

"Yes…" She folded her arms. "It's really hard not to say that word when you live with Troy, OK."

"Awesome!" cried Troy, pulling something out of a crate. "A Human Being costume!" He turned it inside out. "It's like a really creepy snake shed its skin and crawled off to become an even creepier snake that kills people in its sleep."

Britta gave an involuntary shudder. "OK, I vote for Karate Kid to get us the hell out."

While they were all arguing with one another, Pierce lifted his head from his hands and stared at the back wall. His eye twitching, he slowly stood up, grabbed a crate and ran full pelt at the back wall with a war cry of, "Nyaaaaaagh!" smashing a small window in the process.

The room fell silent as everyone's jaws dropped in shock. "I found a way out," said Pierce in a low tone, brushing flecks of glass off his shoulder.

Jeff carefully approached him, taking the crate out of his hands after a slight tug-of-war. "That's… great, Pierce. But if you take a peek through your haze of crazy, you might notice that the window you just destroyed has the width of a DVD case. Not even Abed and his toothpick body could squeeze through that."

"I didn't find a way out then?"

"No." Jeff slapped the side of his neck. "But you did find a way of letting all the insects of Greendale inside, as well as the cold November air, so thank you once again for your competence."

"What are we supposed to do now?" said Shirley.

"How about we each take turns banging on the door while the rest of us keep looking for anything that will help us get out of here?" said Annie.

"Sounds like a plan," said Jeff, moving towards the stairs. "I'll try the door first."

"Me too," said Annie, following him. "I can feel the bugs eating me alive already."

They reached the top of the stairs and spent the next ten minutes alternating between banging on the door and calling out for help, but to no avail. Frustrated, they sat down on the concrete stoop for a short break. Annie inspected her knuckles, red and grazed from all the friction on the door. Noticing her injury, Jeff took hold of her hand to examine it himself, rubbing his thumb lightly over her knuckles.

"Well, looks like your hand modelling career is down the toilet," he said with a smirk.

"Darn it. And just when I landed the front cover of 'Hands-mopolitan' magazine too," she said in mock-seriousness. "I was going to be a star." She grabbed Jeff's other hand. "Looks like you've been through the wars too."

"Nah, I'll be fine. We all know my face is the real money-maker."

She smiled and fished some Band-Aids out of her backpack, opening one to put over a small cut on Jeff's hand. He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, silently appraising her resourcefulness.

"You'd make a great nurse."

"Thanks," said Annie, looking pleased. "Did I ever tell you I had to apply a tourniquet once? Some guy got stabbed outside my old apartment building a little while ago."

"Are you serious?" he said, grabbing a Band-Aid to put on her hand. "I'm really glad you got the hell out of that place, Annie. You were one step away from becoming inspiration for the next murder victim on CSI."

"I can take care of myself, you know," she gently chided him. "I'm not a kid anymore, remember?"

"I know. But adults need protecting too." He kept tracing his thumb over her hand. "You're important to me," he said in a quiet voice.

Annie felt something catch in her throat. A chill of anticipation coursed through her as Jeff started to lean in. Annie glanced at his lips, leaning in to meet him too, when…

"GET IT AWAY FROM ME!"

The sound of Troy screaming halted them back to reality. With an air of unfinished business lingering between them, they rushed downstairs to see what new chaos had unfolded. Troy was standing on top of a crate, jumping from foot to foot like he needed to pee, while the rest of the group searched the ground.

"What happened?" said Annie.

"Troy saw a mouse," Abed explained.

"I didn't just see a mouse," Troy shrieked. "It was a mutant mouse! That thing had horns, and biceps and… fangs!"

"Now who's the crazy one?" Pierce said from his curled up ball in the corner.

Britta tried to stop Troy from squirming. "It's OK, I'm sure all of the screaming has scared it away by now. And besides, it's just a tiny little mouse. It's probably more afraid of you than you are of it."

"I didn't see the mouse cry, did you?" snapped Troy. "I'm not getting down."

"Fine, have it your way," said Britta, over-dramatically. "I guess a big strong guy like you isn't brave enough to stand up to a defenceless rodent. I guess you don't have the calzones to face your fears."

"I think you mean cojones," Jeff stage-whispered.

Troy squinted at her. "Your reverse psychology isn't going to work on me, Britta. Or your first gear psychology - or any other car science. I'm not going anywhere near that giant-ass mouse."

"Well you can't stand on a box all night, sweetie," said Shirley. "Especially when there are only a few in here. Some of us need to sit down and rest our tired mother-of-three feet."

"How about we start a bonfire and toast marshmallows to distract ourselves?" said Abed. "I've got an emergency junk food stash in my bag, and the fire would keep us warm from the chill that's setting in thanks to Pierce's rage blackout."

Troy considered this and slowly brought one foot down to the floor. "… I do like eating marshmallows."

Abed nodded. "Because it's what you think eating a cloud would taste like."

"Exactly, man," said Troy, bringing down his other foot. "You get me."

"Food works every time," Abed said quietly into Britta's ear.

"Is there anything to put a fire in?" said Jeff, finding it hard to see in the glow of the bare, flickering bulb above them.

Troy picked up the crate he was standing on. "What about this?"

"You want to start a fire in a wooden crate?"

"You're right," he sighed, "it's too small."

"There's a couple of steel drums back here," said Abed from the space underneath the stairs. "One of them has something in it, but this one with the lid off is empty."

Jeff helped Abed lift it to the middle of the room. "Do we just break up the crates for kindling?" asked Jeff.

"We should keep them as seats," said Annie, thinking of Shirley. "And for mouse emergencies," she added, hearing a cough from Troy.

"I've got a spare notebook I could throw in," said Shirley, reaching into her purse. "Let's just grab any stack of papers we have and put them in a pile."

They all agreed, except for Annie, who was clutching her backpack like she was protecting a bear cub. "All of our paper?" she said in a small voice.

"Annie," said Jeff, coaxing her arm away. "I will personally buy you notebooks every color of the rainbow when we get out. But we're not going to get out if we freeze to death."

"… Fine." She glumly took out a few notepads and folder paper, clinging to a small purple pad. "Even the one with the cat on the front wearing a wizard outfit?"

"Especially that one," said Jeff.

The seven of them arranged themselves around the steel drum and threw their contributions into one messy pile.

"I assume Brit-ta will do the honors with the lighter?" said Shirley with a smile plastered on her face.

Britta glowered at her before taking a lighter out of her pocket. "It's only in there because I haven't worn these jeans in a while, OK?"

"I'm not judging you, sweetie."

"Oh really? Because your tone and the judge-y face are telling me otherwise." She leant into the drum to pick up a few papers to start burning, but just as she was flicking the lighter, something caught her eye.

Jeff frowned as Britta threw everything back in, bar one thin booklet. "Um, do you need to roll the paper up before you light it or…"

"We've got bigger things to worry about than fire at the moment, Jeff," said Britta, showing the front of the booklet to everyone. "Like why in the hell someone had college transfer forms in their bag?"

Everyone froze as another gust of cool wind whipped through the smashed window. All they could do was stare at one another with betrayed eyes - and a smattering of curiosity lying underneath.

"Now would be the perfect time to fade to black and have 'to be continued' scroll across the screen," noted Abed.

"Abed," Jeff snapped. "How many times do we have to tell you? We don't live in a freakin' TV sh-"

To be continued…