A/N- Bam inspiration! And just like that I'm able to crack a chapter off in one night when I should be studying. But did anyone else notice:
Student + Dying= Studying!
Just saying… Anyway enjoy, coming up to our last few chapters now.
Cheers.
Grey.
Jeff had two days respite from the group before their next shift, he spent it poorly.
Here was a man who had a few decisions to make and some clever words to find.
He lounged around his apartment at a loose end.
Scotch helped.
But when that didn't give him the answers he usually found, he realised he needed some more help.
Luckily his first shift back was with the enigmatic advice machine that was Abed.
It was a quiet shift for once, almost dead quiet and while the other two vehicles answered several calls throughout the day, Jeff and Abed only attended one. The call came in right near the end of the shift and the day, at 1830 for an unknown complaint.
It was their first moment together alone, on the way to an unknown call and it was his chance to seek counsel from his own autistic Yoda.
"What do I do Abed?" He wondered aloud, choking the steering wheel and shaking his fist at an unobservant driver. He switched between siren tones to see if that would make a difference and finally the vehicle in front of him shuddered with shock as it noticed the ambulance right behind it. The elderly driver pulled out of the way looking embarrassed.
"Well I would advise just to wave politely or you will receive a complaint from another offended driver." Abed clinically advised, doing exactly to try to negate any damage Jeff may have caused.
"Uh doesn't anyone use their mirrors?" Jeff groaned and bit his tongue to stop it uttering expletives.
"That's not what I meant and you know it." He added curtly, he was aware of his ever observant friend's gaze that scrutinized him once more.
Somewhat taken back that Jeff had actually asked his opinion for once, Abed hesitated before answering. He quickly trawled his encyclopaedic memory to find an appropriate character reference.
"Maybe it is time to transition from the sarcastic flaky leader trope and move to something more solid, like in the movie-" Jeff cut him off.
"Flaky?" He questioned in mild offence.
"Well you don't like to commit to people or things, how would you describe it?" Abed sagely turned it back on him.
"Independent?" Jeff weakly tried, the hit having scored a little close to home. This sage like advice was not exactly what he had expected.
"Call it what you want Jeff and do what you want, but first you have to realise what that is." Abed recycled a famous speech to suit his purposes, he figured he changed just enough of it to avoid copyright infringement.
"I don't want to have to move away to find a job as lawyer." Jeff made up his mind, even though he knew it was impossible to achieve it.
"Can I ask you something Jeff?" Abed suddenly inquired, his wide eyes boring holes in the driver.
"Sure, Abed. As long as it isn't the question about where babies come from." Jeff answered with a smirk.
"I've delivered a baby before, remember Jeff?" Abed patiently reminded him with a deadpan expression.
"Sorry, still flaky and sarcastic remember?" Jeff apologised.
"Why did you like being a lawyer Jeff?" Abed got to his real question.
Jeff though long and hard about, it actually seemed like a long time ago that he had lived that life. Memories had faded with time (and booze) but he remembered liking being in the courtroom more then anywhere else.
"Well I guess primarily because I was really good at it. I don't need to tell you that lying and manipulating people is pretty much my superpower. It was like at some point I was bitten by a radioactive jerk"
Saying it out loud, Jeff actually felt a bit embarrassed that he didn't have a better claim to fame then just being a clever mouth on a great body.
"And you were happy doing that?" Abed pressed, taking out a notebook and scrawling some notes.
"I was paid well and I liked winning." Jeff remembered and replied with his usual sly tact.
Approaching their destination, he flipped his beacons off. No use announcing our presence until we know what we are in for, he reasoned.
"And did that make you happy?" Abed asked again, forming his hands into a contemplative steeple.
Jeff didn't answer but instead pulled their ambulance into a violent halt right outside the door to a squat one story spread of apartments.
Abed raised his eyebrows at Jeff expectantly but was disappointed when the driver silently debussed, he decided to follow suit.
"What were we called to again?" Jeff changed the subject, grabbing the bulging trauma back from inside the back of the ambulance.
"Unknown problem, caller hung up." Abed recalled perfectly and Jeff rolled his eyes.
"Ugh so it is probably a hoax or a waste of our time." Jeff snarled, turning on his torch to find the apartment they were after. It was the last job of the day and the night was creeping in, the light fading. All Jeffery Winger wanted to do was to go home and pour a scotch.
While Annie had said they were good, she still seemed brusque with him all day and in the end he had retreated to his office and stopped trying.
Jeff was quickly growing annoyed at what was surely another wild goose chase (Shirley and Britta had an actual job that day that involved them chasing an angry goose away from an injured farmer).
"Apartment G." Abed read off the mail slot, which was illuminated in the glow of Jeff's torch.
"Ambulance, open up!" Jeff called impatiently rapping on the door, to find it creep open under his force.
He looked at Abed who shrugged and the pair entered.
Walking into the small flat, Jeff called out once more to no reply and he found his way into the living room.
He was hit by a breeze of fresh air and saw a small outdoors patio area through an open sliding door.
"Out there." Abed suggested and followed Jeff out.
"Bingo." Jeff called out as he caught a smashed phone on the ground in his beam of light.
And a pair of shoes; men's shoes, the rest of him obscured by a BBQ table
The feet kicked and twitched periodically in an unnerving fashion that made the pair jump the first time it occurred.
Jeff and Abed rushed around the other end of the table to examine the rest of their patient.
"Professor Whitman!?" Jeff exclaimed in confusion, at the unmistakeable short, middle aged teacher that lay face up on the ground. The opening in his shirt revealed hints of the large tattoo 'Carpe Diem' that covered his chest. There was no doubt.
His whole body spasmed and shook, his eyes were rolled back and his arms clutched into himself his hands seemingly tearing and grasping.
Abed took in this picture calmly and then suddenly noticed the silhouette of the rising full moon in the background.
The events of the debate debacle flashed through his mind..
"Stand back Jeff, he is changing! He's a werewolf!" Abed yelled shrilly in warning, pulling Jeff back to supposed safety.
Intently he peered at the prone figure.
They both watched as the professor simply continued to seize violently on the ground.
"Or it is just a seizure, Abed." Jeff drably suggested, stepping closer and kneeling down once more.
Abed was not so convinced.
"Don't let him bite you!" He hissed, suddenly spotting a silver set of cutlery on the table along with a largely uneaten dinner of steak and chips.
With an eye to defending himself, Abed pocketed the silver steak knife and tucked it into his belt. He remembered that he was also quite hungry and pecked a chip from the plate as well. It's not like the professor is going to be eating it, he justified as he happily munched away.
"Abed get down here, I need your help." Jeff growled, fighting to prevent the professor from hurting himself against any of the furniture.
Abed apprehensively crouched down beside Jeff to hear what he wanted, his eyes never left Whitman. The instant the fur started sprouting or the teeth elongating he was going in with the silver knife. He had watched the entire Underworld series and regrettably Twilight, he knew how dangerous the Lycans were.
"Draw me up 15mg of Midaz." Jeff ordered his friend, while he protected Whitman's head from injury.
"Might I suggest Wolfsbane or Silver Nitrate instead?" Abed recommended as an alternative.
"Goddamit Abed, he is not a werewolf. Midzolam. Now!" The ex-lawyer yelled at his colleague.
For all his pop culture references and supernatural theory, Abed was actually very deft with a syringe and ampoule. He passed a loaded syringe with an Intra-Muscular needle on the end to Jeff a few moments later.
"Thanks," He uttered before pulling up one of Whitman's sleeves to expose a shoulder.
"Kinda always wanted to do this.." Jeff quietly admitted and stabbed the needle into the fitting man's shoulder. Pushing down on the plunger he delivered the powerful anticonvulsant and the tremors began to settle after a few minutes.
A silver glint in the light caught Jeff's eye and he picked up one of the professor's now limp wrists. He wore a shiny medical alert bracelet and Jeff held a light to it to read.
"Epilepsy." He read aloud to Abed.
"Seize the day Professor Whitman, seize the day." Jeff cleverly quipped with a wide grin.
Then they took him to hospital.
It was a different doctor that met them in Resus for their handover. An older, impatient looking man with a bad combover.
"What's happened?" He asked the pair of ambos wheeling the stretcher in.
Abed beat Jeff to the punch and answered first.
"A classic class of Lycanthropy; the lupine cells have semi-permanently bound with his human cells leading to a transformat-"
"Go wait in the truck." Jeff cut him off before he could go any further and convince the doctor they were completely insane.
"Alright.." Abed reluctantly agreed, sounding convinced they were making a mistake.
"Trust me, you'll need this.." He quietly said to a starlted nurse on his way out the door and he passed her the silver steak knife he had pilfered.
"Excuse my colleague he had a….. different.. diagnosis to me." Jeff explained as best he could and started his handover to the doctor.
"Ugh middle aged epileptic man, had a seizure tonight lasting several minutes. He stopped once we hit him with 15 of IM Midazolam."
The doctor nodded once curtly and Jeff was starting to walk away when he saw Abed standing in one of the other rooms talking to a patient. Curious as to whom he was engaged in conversation with, Jeff quietly made his way over.
Entering the cubicle as well, he was completely blown away by who he found as the patient in the bed.
"Rich?" Jeff blurted out in surprise.
"Hey Jeff, Abed was just telling me all about Lycanthropy." The perky doctor greeted him.
He didn't look very perky or wholesome though, his skin was a waxy pale colour and large bags hung under his bloodshot eyes. Twin bags of IV solutions hung from the ceiling and ran into his arms. He didn't look much like a doctor anymore in the sterile white sheets and boring dressing gown.
"What are you doing here?" Jeff finally asked, feeling a twang of pity for his rival.
"What can I say champ all those years of kettle corn must have caught up with me? I've got diabetes." Rich revealed, still in his perpetually upbeat manner. Not even diabetes got him down.
"Huh, I'm.. sorry to hear that." The ex-lawyer softly replied and was actually surprised to find he was.
A little.
Abed jumped back into the conversation.
"That's ironic because Jeff said-"
"The truck Abed!"
"Cool. Cool cool cool." Abed happily stopped and departed once more. Jeff hoped this time he was actually going to make it to the truck.
"Well I'd offer to bring you in some chocolates to make you feel better, but that might just finish you off." The smarmy paramedic quipped and his patient laughed too before suddenly looking glum.
"Seriously can I get you anything? A book, new pancreas, some chocolates maybe?" Jeff joked again, but with more good-natured intent.
"Annie. Could you bring me Annie I think I owe her an apology over last time we were here." Doc Potterywood exclaimed in a hurry, his eyes low.
Jeff sighed and pulled up a chair, he actually felt sorry for the guy now.
"Look Rich I don't think you owe her an apology, you are a decent guy just trying to do the right thing for everyone, even jerks like me that hate you. Annie's been going through a few changes recently and quite frankly I haven't been there for her as much as I could. If anyone owes her the apology it is me."
Another classic Winger speech.
Rich smiled broadly from his bed.
"Maybe you are more of a decent guy then you think, Jeff." He commented, before leaning forward.
"Can you keep a secret?" He whispered.
"Sure, unless it'll tarnish your reputation, in which case I'd give it to Pierce to tweet." Jeff honestly answered, something about the guy made it hard to lie to him.
"Good enough." Rich happily accepted, mistakenly thinking it was another joke.
"Turning down Annie when she asked me out was the one of the hardest things to do and something I thought I'd always regret."
Jeff's face darkened at the mention of the horrible scenario that almost was.
"But when I see the two of you together, I have to think I made the right choice."
The jaded paramedic was taken back by the frank admission.
"So what should I do?" Jeff finally asked his frenemy.
"Isn't that obvious guy? Tell her how you feel and that you will stay with her." Rich made it sound like it was the simplest thing in the world.
And maybe it was.
"I owe you a whiskey and diet coke when you get out of here." Jeff promised Rich and bolted out the door.
"I don't drink!" Rich called after him.
"Of course you don't!" Jeff yelled back.
"Abed start the truck!" He ordered wrenching open the door to his ambulance, before sliding into the passenger seat.