A/N: Shorter chapter this time, but there's more to come. As for a happy ending... you'll just have to wait and see, but it won't be all bad, I can promise that. Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed so far! I love seeing your comments. :)

Someone was whimpering. Abed wondered if he'd left the TV on again. He could tell from the curvature of his spine that he was on the couch. Maybe the sound was a dying Blorgon. But before he had even opened his eyes, he remembered what had happened last night.

Abed sat up and rubbed his eyes. Annie was curled up in his bed, in the throes of a nightmare. Or maybe, he realized with a sinking feeling, a memory. He wasn't sure what to do. "Annie?" he asked tentatively.

She didn't respond. He stepped over to the bed, the floor cold on his bare feet. He should wake her, he decided. Or were you not supposed to wake someone who was having a nightmare? No, that was if they were sleepwalking, he was pretty sure. "Annie," he repeated, louder. She was gripping his blanket in a death grip, thrashing slightly as she took fast, scared breaths.

"No," she whispered. "No no no no no," on and on until Abed reached over and placed a warm, slender hand on her shoulder and shook gently.

Annie's eyes slid open and she started at the sight of Abed, who immediately retracted his hand. "Oh God," she said, "Oh my God." Her hyperventilating didn't seem to have stopped when she awoke. She sat up, resting her head in her hands and lacing her fingers through her hair, pulling at it slightly. Abed sat next to her, ready to provide whatever comfort and assistance she needed whenever he figured out what that was. "Oh…" she whispered, breaths speeding up.

Abed needed a paper bag. That was how people calmed down on TV. He didn't have a paper bag. A plastic bag probably wouldn't help, nor would a piece of paper. Did anyone actually use brown paper bags anymore? Didn't everyone have lunchboxes? He returned to the matter at hand. "Annie," he said. She didn't look up. Her hands had moved from her hair to the bed next to her, where her nails were digging into his sheets. He placed his hand over hers and squeezed slightly, hoping to snap her out of it. She gripped his hand like she was in immense pain.

She turned to him finally, her hand slackening around his. He saw that her eyes were full of wild fear and pain. Her hair was a mess and Abed was suddenly inspired to reach up to push it out of her face. The skin of her forehead was incredibly soft. Annie blinked demurely as he tucked the strand behind her ear. He was well aware that this trope generally preceded a kiss of some kind, but he wasn't going to kiss Annie. Not right now. Although, for the first time, the idea of kissing her didn't seem entirely preposterous.

Annie's eyes were red and wide, but she wasn't crying. He let his hand rest on the side of her face, gently stroking the bruise with his thumb. Annie leaned into his touch ever so slightly, letting her eyes close with an almost silent sigh. "Abed?" she said quietly.

"Yeah," he whispered, suddenly out of breath.

"I'm really hungry."

He smiled and she let out a small giggle. The sound of her laugh was a huge relief for Abed, who had sorely missed the bubbly side of her and was wondering if it would ever return.

Abed stood to inspect his food supply, hoping there were enough Lucky Charms left. There was. He held up the box and Annie nodded, her mouth curving slightly upwards. His cereal bowl was full of melted ice, so he poured the cereal into a red Solo cup leftover from a kegger Troy had helped him throw the previous week. It seemed like years ago.

Annie munched quietly for several minutes, but her achy jaw protested at the continuous chewing and she set the cup down. She should go back home. She needed to study for her Sociology midterm and check her phone messages and water her plant and put on her own clothes and speaking of which, she had a load of laundry in the dryer downstairs and she'd left the bathroom light on and it wasn't even compact fluorescent.

She stood up suddenly. She wasn't anticipating the soreness in her legs and stomach and almost immediately doubled over, saved from hitting the floor by Abed's quick hands.

"Whoa," he said as he caught her shoulders. He helped her back onto the bed, concerned. "More painkillers, then." She wrapped one hand tight around her abdomen and nodded, eyes squeezed shut.

The Apocalypse first-aid kit was still sitting on the bookshelf. He gave Annie two pills and a fresh water bottle from the mini-fridge. Once she had swallowed them down, he said gently but firmly, "Annie, I think we should go to the hospital."

She stood, bracing herself on his shoulder for a moment before becoming fully upright. "I'm fine," she said, even more firmly. "Just sore."

Abed noticed her hand was still resting on her torso like she was in pain. He said, "Can I just make sure you don't have any broken ribs?"

Annie recognized the compromise and nodded, carefully lifting her – well, his – shirt to just below her breasts. The bandage showed no signs that her cut had started bleeding again, he was glad to find. However, her chest was covered in bruises. Abed gently felt around her bones, searching for fractures with his delicate fingers. Annie looked away, biting her lip to keep it from quivering. Her muscles tensed, tickled by Abed's soft touch. Every now and then she let out a slight hiss of pain. "Nothing broken as far as I can tell," he said after a minute. She pulled her shirt down. "Do you want more ice?"

She shook her head, but from the way she was moving he could tell the bruising was even worse on her thighs. "I bruise easily," she explained, "like a peach."

Abed tilted his head at the comparison. Annie sat on the couch gingerly. "Abed…" she began. He immediately joined her as she adjusted to get comfortable. He wondered for a moment why she was scooching around but figured it out soon with another sharp and unpleasant revelation. He nodded to show he was listening.

"Thank you," she finished, and he had a feeling she was going to say more than that but decided against it.

"You're welcome," he said instinctively, before wondering if there was a better response. "Don't mention it," maybe, or something like that. "You can sleep in my bed for as long as you want," he added. "I'll text Jeff and say we can't come to the meeting today. I won't tell him why," he quickly clarified when she looked askance.

"I have classes…" she began weakly, but Abed shook his head.

"According to the Greendale Student Handbook, students who are recovering from injury or trauma may miss up to a week of classes without penalty." Annie raised an eyebrow. "I memorized it."

Annie smiled. "Isn't that like 100 pages?"

Abed shrugged. "Only 98. Do you want soup?"

Annie harkened back to something Jeff had said when they all first met. Ask Abed to pass the salt, and he'll give you a bowl of soup. Of course, that whole everybody's awesome speech had been a BS ploy to get with Britta, but practically everything he said ended up being true. "Umm…" she said, "Why soup?"

"That's what my mom gave me whenever I was sick as a kid," he explained matter-of-factly. "I understand it's supposed to be comforting. The convenience store sells cans and Pavel has a hotplate."

"Isn't that a fire hazard?"

"So are fake fire alarms."

Annie nodded. "I guess some soup would be nice," she admitted.

"I'll go get some. You can watch TV if you want, or sleep more," Abed said. He knew it was bad manners to tell women they looked tired, but he also knew the dark circles under Annie's eyes were from more than just bruises. He stopped at the door, his constant calculations revealing another thing he didn't want to consider. "Do you need an emergency contraceptive?" he asked, not meeting her eyes. Abed felt embarrassed, which was an unfamiliar and unpleasant sensation.

Annie shook her head, blushing. "I take a pill," she said quietly. Abed nodded and left.

She decided to go back to sleep. Despite the ibuprofen, there was a lingering achiness that she couldn't shake and she welcomed the blissful numb of unconsciousness. Besides, she got cranky and puffy when she didn't sleep enough.

She closed her eyes and snuggled under Abed's covers. They smelled like him, a distinctive, safe scent like boy soap with a touch of cardamom. She should go back to her apartment eventually, where her phone and toothbrush and clothes were, but right now, she rested.