"It could have been worse, Annie. It could have been Jeff."

A squeak is produced. "Abed!"

But he goes on, as though she hasn't uttered a word. "Without Jeff, the very fabric of the group would fall apart. He is the de facto leader. But Pierce... I've always heard and observed that old men like him are a dime a dozen. Pierce is replaceable. Jeff isn't."

"He was our friend!" Annie mumbles.

"If it hadn't been Pierce, it could have very easily been Jeff," Abed explains in that cold, detached way of his. Before the accident, he'd been warming up to the elusive quality that was human feeling. Now, he is more calculating than ever. " Weren't you going to tend to his head before everything went down?"

Annie lets out a shrill wail, stuffing her fingers into her ears, shaking her head from side to side. She hasn't showered since the morning of the housewarming party, and that was six days ago. Her normally glossy brown locks are now oily and ill-kept. Britta would have to help her shower at some point.

"I'm not saying it's your fault, Annie. Really, you saved Jeff from an even worse fate," he pauses, considering. "It's my fault more than anything. I should have caught the dice."

They're staying in Britta's apartment, even if she has little to no space and the cat smell makes Abed sneeze. She won't let them go anywhere else. According to terse but worried reports from Andre, Shirley is 'unwell', and they are all in the Bennett family's prayers. Jeff is still in the hospital, and so is Troy. Pierce...

Apartment 303 is a literal crime-scene. Imagination-wise, it's better than anything Abed could ever cook-up in the Dreamatorium. When reality sets in, he knows that it's bad. He just finds it harder to invest in the story now.

"We left him," Annie whispers. There are tears in the corners of her eyes, ready to ooze down her cheeks. She's curled up in a ball on the couch, hunched over one of Britta's pillows, picking nervously at the fabric. She's been there all afternoon. "We shouldn't have. We could have done something."

"You helped Jeff," Abed points out. "I helped Troy. Britta was zoned out due to her drug usage. Shirley was in shock. We got everyone out of the apartment before it spread."

"Everyone but Pierce!"

Abed shrugs. "We'll find a way to make it better."

Britta Perry has been spending way too much time at hospitals the last few days. Part of her wishes she could transport herself back to the days when a little medical marijuana and a dip in the Atlantic did the trick. But she knows that won't help her friends.

She's exhausted, but it's impossible to get any sleep. No matter where she is, it's like someone is always there to prod her in the arm the second her eyes shut.

She needs to take a deep breath before entering her apartment, feeling like she's stepping from one war zone into another. And she hates that she feels this way. Tired. Sloppy. Useless.

Guilty.

Troy is clearly on edge at the hospital. To most it seems he has yet to have grasped the extremity of his situation, while the doctors continue with their disbelief that the intense burns that destroyed his larynx are willingly inflicted. He refuses to write his explanation on paper as of yet. Not even for her.

She's not allowed to see Jeff yet. They monitor him around the clock.

Abed is waiting for her when she steps inside. Well, not waiting for her per say - he's standing in the middle of the room, his gaze fixed on the blank white wall before him.

"Abed!" Britta says. She meant it to sound sharp. It sounds more weary than anything. It's been decades since she felt this exhausted. "Where's Annie? You didn't let her leave, did you?" Involuntary panic grips at her.

Abed responds in his usual monotone. "She's in the bathroom," He goes back staring at the wall, like he's trying to dissect how to take it apart.

"Abed... could you go and watch some TV or something? Please?"

Abed blinks and cocks his head, finally turning to look at her fully. "But you don't have a TV, Britta." The way he stares at her makes her wish he kept looking at the wall.

"Then go do something!" Britta snaps, wrenching off her leather jacket as she stalks towards the bathroom. "Just don't leave the apartment." She's quick to add.

"You can't keep us here forever."

She finds Annie in her tiny bathroom, huddled in the corner with a washcloth in her hands. The water in the sink isn't running, but the steam on the mirror suggests that when it was, it was scalding hot.

Britta steps around the mess that she kept reminding herself to pick up, grimacing slightly as she squats down next to Annie. The younger girl barely spares her a quick glance, before she goes back to furiously scrubbing her fingers.

They already look raw.

It wouldn't take a licensed practitioner of the mental arts to know what's making her do this.

"Annie..." Britta's expression twists, sympathetic and uncertain. She wants to yank the cloth out of Annie's hands, but is uncertain to know how she'll react. "Annie, you didn't- What I mean is, it's not your fault. Pierce... Annie, you got the bleeding under control, and Jeff needed help..."

"I can still smell the blood," Annie whispers shrilly. "Britta, everytime I look at my hands, I can see it! I scrub and scrub and it doesn't go away!" She's practically hyperventilating as she looks at her hands, like she's still seeing them from the night at the hospital.

Britta doesn't know what to do. All she has are her words. "Annie, look at me. I swear to you, there is no blood. What happened was not your fault, and you have to remember that. It wasn't your fault. Thinking that will drive you insane."

Andre calls seven days later. A flask had fallen out of Shirley's bag while the boys were roughhousing. He doesn't think it's the only one.

Britta wonders why he's telling her all this. Andre explains that they all understand Shirley in a way he no longer can.

October 31st.

Pierce's funeral.

None of them can go.

His lawyers do call, though. Apparently, there are some matters they must discuss.

Abed starts mumbling about timelines again. Britta ignores him. She wishes Annie would too.

Troy is released before Jeff is. Apparently his mother is going to be taking care of him.

When Abed sees his best friend again, he can only stare for a few moments for turning away. Troy seems to shrink at that, looking confused and hurt. He tests out his voice-box little by little, and many are confident that he'll eventually tell them his reason behind shoving a flaming troll doll down his throat.

Because if there's one thing that could make sense from that night, maybe it's that.

Jeff is released from the hospital six weeks following the incident. Britta picks him up. He doesn't say a word the entire drive, though she frequently (lamely) tries to strike up conversation. It gives her creepy deja-view from the time Jeff thought Pierce had found his father, and was on his way to meet him. Then, Jeff had had his shields up and defenses at full-force. Now, every word she says isn't rebounded back at her with a sarcastic quip. Everything falls flat.

He refuses the offer to stay at her apartment. So his pride is still there.

Pierce left Annie money. Lots of money.

She was his favorite.

Britta is the only one that tries to smile now.

Jeff shuts down. He looses weight. His cheekbones stand out, skin pale and tight against them. Permanent scruff shadows his jaw, and he appears disinterested in dealing with it. Worst of all are his eyes. Sunken and lifeless. Clothes that once used to fit his lean frame now hang off of him, even if it is just a little bit.

Britta smiles around the study table. It's tight, and looks like it's going to split her face in two, but she smiles nonetheless. She's the only one that does now. Trying to be the heart, trying to make everything okay for all of them. She calls to check up on Troy and Abed regularly, even if it almost always goes to voice-mail. Actually visiting usually leads to her screaming at Abed, something that still troubles her behind closed doors.

Britta takes care of Annie, and Jeff (whether he likes it or not). Makes sure they remember to shower, eat, and clean up after themselves. Annie doesn't require this once she's in the mental institution (a decision that doesn't come lightly). In sending her away, something reawakens within Jeff. He snaps and snarls words at each and everyone of them when he isn't glaring daggers into the ax-scars on the study room table.

Troy has recurring nightmares about trolls. You need to eat them to destroy them, he informs in his tinny voice.

Andre is just about at his wits end about Shirley. She pays more attention to the latest bottle in her hand than her sons.

Abed tells them this is the darkest timeline.

Britta stops trying to smile. No one comments on her hair until Jeff venomously brings it up.

Greendale Mental Institution gives Britta the creeps. It tries to look quaint and homey, and fails spectacularly. But she's here for Annie, and that's what matters. Annie, who seems to be getting warier everytime Britta walks through the door, and looks stricken when she leaves. Annie, who is supposed to be getting the best treatment possible, because she was Pierce's favorite. Annie, who needs all of the support and friends she can get, and only has her.

She doesn't ask like she used to about why Abed doesn't visit anymore. To be honest, Britta feels like she doesn't have the heart to tell a decent lie anymore. Mostly, Britta talks, filling her in on Greendale life, while Annie stares, fiddling with the sleeve of her pale pink cardigan.

"What about Abed's plan?" Annie asks one day.

Britta forces herself not to curse. She manages one of those phony, Steppenwolf-wife smiles. "Come on, Annie. You know-"

"That's the problem!" Annie pipes up, more vocal than she's been in weeks. "I don't know anything in here! I'm closed off! Britta, I need to stay informed for when I get out!"

Demanding. Whiny. Hopeful. Britta almost wants to weep, because that's the Annie she knows and loves. She settles for telling Annie about Troy instead, and how much he actually loves the sound of his voice coming from the artificial voice box now, thinking that he sounds exactly like See-Seepio now from those Star Wars films.

Annie loses interest.

When Shirley gets arrested for public intoxication, they know something has to be done (at least, Britta does. Troy seems to agree, and Abed just wants the entire group together. Jeff gets the chance to be a lawyer again, and it's made him more bearable than he's been in months). Shirley fights them at first, of course, and they reason with her as best they can. They need their Mother Hen back, the person who tells them what's right and what's wrong, and who can make them break into a nervous sweat just by thinking about pre-marital sex.

("And once we get to the Prime Timeline, your drinking wont matter anymore."

"Abed!")

Shirley agrees to seek help. It's almost too easy when the world feels like such a dark place. She wants to see her boys again. Abed wants to tell her that she will once they enter the Prime Timeline, but refrains from doing so. Troy seems less and less inclined to follow him along anymore. Britta's non-negative negative attitude about the whole thing makes it seem like a terrible idea for involving her in the first place. What they need is to get Jeff back. The Jeff who can make people believe anything he desires with just a few clever words, and manages to get you to do all of the heavy lifting for him. With Jeff acting as the mouth to Abed's operation, anything can happen. He just doesn't need a repeat of the chicken fingers episode.

It's easy to convince Annie. They keep altering her medication. Some of her mood-swings are getting a little out of control.

At school, no one goes near any of them, other than the dean.

No changes there, then.

Jeff visits Annie once every two weeks. The first time he shows up, it's a virtual disaster in the beginning. Annie just stares at where his empty shirt-sleeve folds, like she's afraid the fabric is going to unfurl to reach out and strangle her.

"Take a picture," Jeff mumbles tiredly. "It'll last longer."

Wide blue eyes dart from that sleeve to his face a good seven times. Then, the worst possible thing happens: she bursts into tears. Great big gulping gasps puff out of her mouth, and her chest heaves with the effort. She rushes at him, and throws her arms around his middle, squeezing so tightly he winces. Then, she whacks him on the chest, for old times sake.

What took you so long?, she wants to know.

Jeff doesn't have an honest answer. As far as Annie can tell, Britta wont allow any one of them to come and visit her unless she knows about it, and they both have to wonder when Britta became so damn controlling over their lives.

"She's just concerned for my well-being," Annie says coyly, sounding like some naughty school-girl. Jeff doesn't know if he should pat her or kiss her. (He notes darkly that his patting arm has seen better days, and he hates learning how to do things left-handed).

Jeff doesn't tell Britta about his visits.

Annie doesn't tell Abed about Jeff's visits.

Troy wants to dance again. He only tells Britta when he's certain they're alone together. She more than happily agrees to join him, eager to escape the doom, gloom, and creepiness (terribleness) of their lives, even for only a few hours a day.

Troy tells Britta that he misses Pierce sometimes, because when he was around, things at least felt normal enough. She agrees with him completely.

He also wants to visit Annie, but admits he's terrified of what he'll see if he does. Britta agrees with him there, too.

(They don't make any plans to tell the group what they're doing this time. Abed would never approve of the distraction, and Jeff would just scoff).

Professor Kane is the only teacher who doesn't take full pity on them and their situation. Without Annie around, they manage to scrape in a collaborative C+ as their final grade for first semester. Not too shabby, if they must admit. Troy and Britta high-five, and even Jeff looks pleased. Abed just strokes his goatee. It's no longer that stupid felt one.