Disclaimer: I don't own Community, yo

Intro to Pop-Psychology

Jeff sat on his couch, feeling heavy. His head pounded and his limbs felt as though they each weighed a thousand pounds-whether those were the aftereffects of his drugs or simply a reaction to a terrible night, he wasn't sure.

After Britta had picked him up and told him in no uncertain terms that he was a headcase beyond her level of care, she dropped him off and raced home to de-Jacksonify herself. He knew earlier that evening before he popped two pills that she was right, that he shouldn't be trying to medicate away his feelings, but the glimmer of hope that the medication brought him was too intoxicating to ignore. For a few hours, he could feel good, his heart rate could go down and he could stop feeling like the world was caving in on him.

Of course, a few hours after the drugs wore off, he felt worse, and with good reason-he'd ruined a bar mitzvah and ripped holes in a halfway decent blazer (for a whacked out Celebrity Impersonator business, Vinny had some nice costumes).

Once he was home alone, Jeff thought about how he could handle the turmoil that was steadily building in his gut, making him feel like he wanted to jump out of his own skin. He wasn't happy. He hadn't been happy in a long time, but now he'd reached a new low, and realized he had no idea how to get out of it.

A part of him had wanted Britta to stay with him and make him feel like less of a jackass, but a larger part just wanted her to go away and stop looking at him. He didn't want anyone to look at him, to judge him. He was judging himself enough without others piling on. And even though Britta never really meant to cause more harm than good, sometimes her natural instinct to keep things 'real' (within her own confused version of reality) just made everything worse. As if Jeff didn't feel bad enough, now he was self conscious about his man boobs and the tile in his bathroom too. He liked that tile.

He was pulled from the recesses of his mind by a quiet, but insistent rapping on the door. He inwardly groaned, and made a note to call the building manager to get the buzzer fixed. He was far too accessible in this apartment for his own liking.

Pulling himself off the couch seemed like a nearly unachievable task, but after some struggling, he was on his feet. He peeked out the peephole and felt his stomach lurch.

Annie.

She was probably there to chew him out for ruining an important Jewish custom. He wasn't fully prepared to face the consequences of his actions just yet.

"Hey," her voice was soft, and her expression far less judgmental than he expected when he pulled open the door.

"Hey."

"Can I come in?" Jeff hesitated for a moment before stepping back and making room for her to pass. Maybe if he just let her get the diatribe out of her system he could get this over with quickly.

A heavy silence took over the apartment for a few minutes while Jeff closed the door and then followed Annie to the couch where she had seated herself.

"Jeff, how much do you know about my breakdown in high school?" He was taken aback by the randomness of the question.

"Uhh... not much," he said slowly. "Just something about robots and a plate glass window." He couldn't help but wince at what he did recall from the tidbits of the story he'd heard over the years. Annie squared her shoulders and turned her body toward him.

"Right, well, what you don't know is how terrified I was. A handful of Adderall, and suddenly the world had changed, and everything around me was threatening. And you know what? If someone had come up to me and said, "Annie, relax, nobody is a robot, you're just being paranoid," it wouldn't have worked, because you can't reason with someone who isn't reasonable. If someone, anyone had wanted to actually help me, they would have removed me from the situation and let the drugs work their way out of my system.

"I hesitated to say anything before because I didn't want to inject myself into your situation here, but I spent all night watching Britta trying to get you to see the error of your ways while you were on medication, and I'm sorry, but I just can't stay out of it anymore.

"Pointing out to you things that she perceives to be your shortcomings is, one, pointless, and if she wasn't just a first year psych major, she would know that. And two, telling someone with a tenuous grasp on reality that everything about him sucks is just aterrible thing to do. If she knew anything about real psychology, she would have taken you out of the situation and let you calm down, and then maybe recommended a better therapist. Clearly the one you've got now isn't doing their job right."

Jeff sat in stunned silence, unable to immediately respond to Annie's unspoken assertion.

Was his brief time on anti-anxiety pills comparable to Annie's extended addiction to Adderall. Was he a drug addict? He didn't think so. He had flushed the medication the moment he got home, and had only felt a slight twinge of panic.

"I don't think this is the same thing," he eventually said, not sure how else to respond. Annie relaxed her posture a bit, and reached out to put her hand over his, resting on his knee.

"Look... do I think you're addicted to pills? No. I think you had a brief bout with a personality altering drug, and I'm hoping that you now see it did more harm than good." She waited a moment to see his reaction to this assertion, and relaxed further when he nodded. "All I'm saying is, whatever those drugs did to you put you in a mind frame that couldn't be reasoned with. You need help Jeff-but you know that, and you're taking steps to get it. At this point, that's exactly what you should be doing.

"Just... don't let Britta try to make you into her little science experiment. You need real help from a real doctor, and she's proven she's incapable of providing that help."

"Yea, well, I think I'm safe on that front," Jeff said. "Even Britta knows she can't help me. She said as much earlier tonight."

"Well, at least she got one thing right." Annie's voice held a hint of venom the Jeff easily picked up on.

"You're being pretty hard on Britta. She was just trying to help." Annie rolled her eyes.

"Yea, well, she shouldn't. Britta may mean well, but you don't play around with someone's psyche like that. I heard the things she said to you, and it took everything in me to stay in my damn zone and not tell her off for trying to practice elementary school pop-psychology on you."

"Well geez, tell me how you really feel." Jeff felt a slight protectiveness of his blonde friend well up inside of him.

"I'm sorry, Jeff... I'm just sick of the way she's been treating you all year," Annie exclaimed. She sat up straighter, her back rigid as she laid into another rant. "All year she's been nagging you about everything: your father, your personality, and now you're bathroom tiles- I like those tiles-and you know what? I like you. I like you the way you are because you are a fine person and she doesn't know anything about what it's like to actually struggle in life."

"I don't think that's necessarily true..."

"Oh no? I'm sorry, who among us comes from a loving, intact family? Not me, not you, not Abed or Troy or Pierce. Just Britta and Shirley. And who of those two tries to act like the world is against them? Shirley, with all of her good Christian cheer? Or Britta, the faux-anarchist whose only claim to real heartache is a slightly overbearing father?"

"Annie..."

"I'm not finished."

"...okay."

"Look... I know Britta isn't a bad person and she usually means well, but most of the time she's just too dense to see that she's hurting you. I've watched you over the years become a better and better person, and instead of telling you that you're a good guy and helping you actually believe it, she's dedicated her life to making you delve into everything that's wrong with you. So you haven't dealt with your daddy issues? Who cares? The guy abandoned you, you have the right to try and forget about him. So you spent a few years being a jerk-it doesn't mean you're a jerk now. When do you start getting credit for who you are and not who you were three years ago?"

Annie fell back into the couch, arms crossed over her chest.

"Are you finished?" She ground her teeth, but nodded.

"What brought this on?" he asked quietly. Annie breathed deeply, doing her best to relieve the tension that welled up inside of her. Eventually, she responded.

"It's just... if you never get to be a changed man, then what does that say for the rest of us? What about me? Am I always going to be the same little girl who walked into Greendale, who screwed up her life and wound up in rehab? Or do I get to be the woman I've become?" Jeff bit the inside of his lip. It was a good question. Do you try to grow and change, or do you just accept who you are?

"You know, Britta still talks to me like I'm a little kid." Jeff nodded. He was aware of this.

"Maybe she thinks you're less threatening to her if you never grow up."

"Threatening how? How does it possibly impact her life if I become a mature adult?"

"Because she isn't always a mature adult?" Jeff attempted. Annie frowned, but nodded her agreeance. "Look, I'm not going to help you eviscerate Britta here. She's our friend, and despite what you may have a seen around the study room table, I do value her friendship and, occasionally, her opinion. But I do understand where you're coming from, and I appreciate that you're protective of me."

"Not just you," she said quickly. "I have a whole 'nother rant stored up for the next time she talks to Abed like he's a baby."

"Okay, fine, maybe Britta's not the best at interacting with people, but that doesn't make her a bad person." Annie sighed.

"Look... I know Britta's not a bad person. She just..." Annie stopped short, biting her tongue. Jeff's brow furrowed.

"She what?" Annie took a deep breath before continuing, casting her eyes down to her hands which rested in her lap.

"She just... I don't know. She gets to be immature, and nosy, and interject herself into your life, and yet you still leap to her defense." Jeff sighed deeply.

"You know I'd leap to your defense too." Annie nodded.

"I know... it's just... Britta gets to do everything wrong, and she still gets what she wants. I could spend my whole life doing and saying the right thing, and I will still never get the things I want. It's not fair."

"Life's not fair," he said quickly. Annie let out a wry laugh.

"That's an understatement."

"What do you want so bad that you can't have, anyway?" Annie offered a one shouldered shrug.

"Nothing that matters right now," she responded. She looked up at Jeff. "Just please don't let her make you think you're anything less than awesome, Jeff. You are, and you deserve to know that." Jeff smiled a little, feeling marginally better.

"So are you." Annie scooted over and rested her head on his shoulder.

There were a lot of questions left between them, but Jeff didn't bother going into them. They could continue to debate about the merits of their overzealous psych-student friend, or they could just sit here as two friends who have a pretty good understanding of the struggles they'd each been facing.

He wondered idly why he didn't just talk to Annie in the first place.

End

This… was not what I planned on writing. My feelings on Britta may have coloured this a little. Ahem.

Annnnnnyway. Hope no Britta fans are too offended, lol.