Chapter One: Two Old Friends

Jeff knew immediately when he heard it. Something was off. Two gentle taps followed by a louder third meant Annie, four concise raps was Britta, Troy and Abed just pounded on the thing till it opened and Shirley always called ahead. But this didn't have the cadence of any of those and he was pretty sure it wasn't Chang; at least he really hoped it wasn't Chang.

*knock* *knock* *knock* *knock* *knock* *KNOCK*

There it is again. He was hoping against hope that he might have just been imagining it, or that he was hearing the neighbors one floor below partaking is some afternoon delight, but now he can't deny it. It is definitely a knock on his apartment door. Standing up slowly from his couch, pocketing his phone, all the more obscure possibilities begin to race through his mind as he walks the long 10 feet. He didn't order takeout, it's too early in the year for those two Girl Scouts to come by and fleece him out of forty dollars, he hadn't talked to Andrea in at least a week so it was highly unlikely that she was here for some post-date canoodling. It might be the police; he knows he hasn't done anything wrong but being a fake lawyer did teach him that it matters less what you did then when.

Taking his last step with all the hesitancy of a man about to tread over an active landmine, he reaches out with both hands and grasps the deadbolt and knob. The last thought he has before pulling open the door is, "it's either the police or Pierce… I hope it's the cops."

"Jeffrey Winger" exclaims the familiar balding man, both arms outstretched, a bottle of scotch in one hand the other holding several cut cigars. To Jeff's surprise he looks more tan and healthy then anytime last year.

"Pierce Hawthorne" quotes back Jeff with none of his enthusiasm. He doesn't move from his position blocking the frame of the door.

"It's great to see you, what's it been… two months since the start of summer? Haven't seen hide nor behind of you in all that time."

Jeff's implacable poker face breaks under the weight of the smallest of smiles as he picks up on Pierce's game. "If you like to come to any of our group hangouts Pierce I'm sure the others would-"

"-no, no I'm not here for any of that Jeff" interrupts Pierce, Jeff's knowing smile fades. "I said I'm out and I'm out," Jeff's smile returns. "I am actually here" he says, pointing with the hand carrying the bottle of scotch "for you." Jeff's smile now completely vanishes, replaced by a cold stare.

Pierce own smile slowly turns to a frown as his eyes trace across the hard, unmoving features of Jeff's face. His arms return to his side as he lets out a long sigh. "Listen, I know that you and I have had our disagreements over the past two years-"

-Jeff's upper lip twitches and his brow furrows in anger but after only a second his face returns to that same stoic statue, if Pierce noticed he doesn't act like it as he continues saying-

"-but I think it's time to put that behind us like men and admit that one of us has made some major mistakes that need to be atoned for."

Jeff doesn't respond.

"Okay, well if you don't feel like starting I will. One of the small mistakes that I made last year was-"

"-Pierce either tell me why you're here right now or I close this door till summer is over!"

Like a lightning bolt illuminating an entire forest for just an instant a flash of sadness comes over Pierce as he struggles with his next few words. "I… uh, I just want to tell you something Jeff. I promise."

"And 'that something' is something that can't be told over a phone call or right here outside of my apartment?"

Pierce shrugs and holds up the bottle of scotch.

After a moment Jeff throws his head back and exhales loudly as stands aside. "I knew you'd come around" says Pierce as he steps into the apartment, the bottle of scotch pulled out of his hand as he steps across the threshold. Jeff closes the door behind them with his foot as his eyes look over the very expensive bottle of liquor in his hands.

Looking over his apartment Pierce says "this place is pretty small Jeff, I thought even being a fake lawyer would get you enough money to afford something better than this."

"Well Pierce not everyone can be born into millions of dollars like you" responds Jeff as he cracks open the bottle and grabs two fresh glasses from his drinks cabinet. Returning to his living room he finds Pierce in the middle of lighting up one of the cigars. "What the hell do you think you're doing" yells Jeff as he snatches the now smoking cigar from his hand. "Just trying to enjoy the company" responds Pierce angrily, "come on Winger I thought you were cooler than this."

Jeff doesn't respond as he drops the cigar into his sink and douses it with water from his tap. Immediately regretting his decision to let Pierce inside his apartment he slouches down into a chair across his dining room table from him, watching as he swirls the scotch around in his glass and takes a sip from it.

"So Jeff, since I guess all the pleasantries have been smothered I should just get right to the point." Jeff breaths a mental sigh of release but makes sure not to let it show by taking a large swig from his own glass.

"This year, one of the small mistakes I made was convincing you that I had found your father."

His pulse immediately quickens as his hand grips his glass with a newfound strength; still, he tries not to let it show as he quickly downs the rest of his glass.

"Even though I thought it brought us closer together, almost like father and son, I know realize that it was the wrong thing to do."

"I'm glad even the purposely blind have good hindsight" interjects Jeff but Pierce keeps talking over him, saying "that's why a few days after you pulled me from that car, shouting all manner of unspeakable things that I think were meant for your father, I set some of the best private investigators I could hire to find him."

Pierce is now smiling broadly, completely oblivious to the roiling emotions tearing themselves through Jeff's innards. He wants to laugh at Pierce's stupidity, thinking he can fool him again with the same fake father shtick, but down lower a frigid dread is sinking in. Pierce is stupid, but he's also stupid rich.

"Anyway" says Pierce offhandedly, "I am happy to tell you that after five months of searching they have finally found-"

-Jeff launches out of his chair towards the man with such force that it upsets the entire table. Scotch, glasses, all go tumbling to the floor as he pulls the completely shocked and surprised man up and out of his seat by the front of his shirt.

"You evil diabolical sick old cretin I should have known you'd try-"

"-no wait Jeff I swear I'm telling the-"

"-get the hell out of my apartment!"

Practically wrestling him towards the door, Pierce is still trying to fumble with something in his shirt pocket as Jeff bodily pushes him against the wall next to the door.

"Jeff if you'd wait I could just show you what I've found" says Pierce as he has a moments reprieve to pull several sheets of paper out from his breast pocket as Jeff flings the door open.

"GET OUT YOU OLD BROKEN ASSHOLE" bellows Jeff as he shoves Pierce outside, the papers going flying from his hand and back inside the apartment. With an almighty crash he slams the door behind him. Chest heaving, arms shaking, head spinning, he turns his back on the door and leans against it. Before he has time to collect himself, his eyes find one of the papers Pierce had been trying to show him. It is a picture, full sized, black and white. Almost unconsciously he picks it up from the floor. In it, an older man, stepping outside of some restaurant, back half turned from the camera but face fully visible, holds the door open for some woman stepping out after him. The frigid dread that had disappeared during his outburst now comes screaming back in a torrent that causes his knees to go weak. The face looks like his: the chin, the brow, even the eyes. He knows immediately. This is William Winger. He tries to yell but something else in the picture catches his eye before he can. Next to the woman, nearly out of frame but head and shoulders still visible is a small boy, hand clutching on to her's, eyes looking up towards his father. His father.

Wheeling around he throws the door open. Pierce, who had been leaning up against the door trying to listen in to whatever was going on, nearly topples over. "Hey, warn me next time" he says but Jeff is way beyond that.

"Where is he" snarls Jeff, grabbing the front of Pierce's shirt again.

"It's there in the other papers I was trying to show you" says Pierce, "new alias, new location and new family. I was hoping that-"

-Jeff again pushes him away, but much more gently this time as he closes the door.

"Good luck Jeff" he hears through the door, "I hope you can find peace."

Jeff doesn't move for several minutes as he leans against the door, staring at the photo in his hands. An unusual thought suddenly comes into his head as he drops the photo and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

He needs help.

~oOo~

*knock* *knock* *knock* *knock*

It's been less than an hour since he kicked Pierce out of his apartment, the spilled scotch and upturned table remain untouched. But this time, he knows who is knocking.