Work Text:
The regular Skype calls from Casa Trobed are almost enough to make Jeff regret upgrading his phone. They happen on a weekly basis at this point, sometimes more, and he has their iPad saved in his contacts list as that- Casa Trobed, the last evidence (if any were needed) that their strange brand of humor is rubbing off on him. So far, they've called to ask how frequently an oven should be cleaned, how to get a soda stain off the carpet (he doesn't know), and why it's important to never recover a bagel from the toaster using a knife.
"The only thing you should be using to unjam your toaster when it's plugged in is gravity!"
"So, if I unplug it, it's okay?'
"I never thought I'd say this, but I think it's time we took a non-blowoff class on how electricity works."
"Nice, Jeff. I have questions, too."
It's fairly impressive, considering that they've only been living together for a month.
"This had better be important," Jeff sighs, with practised nonchalance. "I walked out of my- gym- class for you." If Troy notices the hesitation, he doesn't say anything.
"Jeff!" He yelps. "It's Abed- I- we-!"
Jeff frowns. "You what?"
Troy turns the iPad, opting to show him, instead- which may not be the best move without proper warning, because Abed is covered with blood. The source of his injuries aren't clear, as his hands are cupped in front of the lower half of his face, but Jeff can take a pretty good guess.
"Holy crap!" Jeff leans forwards, as if that'll make a difference. "What the hell happened?"
"Um, I. We. Dreamatorium?" Troy gasps out. Jeff would almost think the connection had cut out, if it wasn't for the fact that the video was still broadcasting Abed's bloodied face and shirt in perfect clarity.
"Come again?"
The screen wobbles, and he catches sight of something in the background- a yellow grid laid onto the dark walls with what looks like tape.
"Is that-?" He stops in his tracks, and squints at the screen. "Is that a holodeck?"
"Jeff!" Troy says.
"Yeb," Abed says, thickly.
"... Huh." Jeff says. "You made a holodeck in your apartment?"
"Jeff! Abed!" Troy says, pointedly.
"Right," he swallows. "How you doing, buddy?"
Abed says something Jeff can't quite make out.
"Can I see your, uh, wound?"
Abed parts his hands just long enough for him to get a glimpse of his nose, and he recoils with a wince.
"That? That's definitely broken. You need to go to the hospital."
"Okay." Troy doesn't move. "We don't have a car."
Jeff blinks. Of course they don't have a car- that'd be too easy. Somehow, in between a month of video calls, that'd never occurred to him. Idly, he wonders how they make the extra long commute to campus-
"Jeff?" Troy says, panic evident.
His head is spinning. "Alright," he breathes, as he grabs his coat. "Hold on. I'll be there in ten minutes." He steps out of the doorway, forgetting entirely about the bag filled with non-workout clothes in his locker.
He gets to their apartment a little faster than the promised ten minutes, and Abed is sure to tell him as such, while Troy flaps his hands and asks what took him so long?!
Jeff raises his eyebrows at them, then ushers them downstairs, and into his car. They don't bother fighting over the front seat like they normally do (Abed usually wins), instead piling into the back, where Troy squeezes Abed's hand with a whispered apology, and Abed rests his head gingerly on his shoulder. Up close, his nose looks even worse- a large gash across the top of his nose oozes blood, and it may be Jeff's imagination, but it looks a little crooked. Abed has two pieces of tissue paper balled up inside each nostril to stem the bloodflow, and they've taken the time to clean the blood off his chin so he looks less jarring, but his shirt is still soaked with red.
Troy keeps apologising to Abed, and Jeff glances at them.
"Jeez, what'd you do, throw a baseball bat at him?"
Troy murmurs something about the wall of the dreamatorium, and looks tearful. Jeff decides not to push it.
The closer they get to the hospital, Troy looks slightly calmer, but Abed's eyes are wide. Jeff makes brief eye contact with him through the rear view mirror.
"It's okay, buddy. We're not gonna leave you," he says.
Abed looks away quickly, but nods.
Parking is scarce in the hospital car park, and there are groups of people milling around the entrance- couples and families, by the looks of things. Jeff glances at Troy and Abed, and wonders what that makes them.
The waiting area for the Emergency Room is, predictably, not much better. There are people limping around, people with bruises, and more than a few broken bones.
"Looks busy," Jeff observes. "Abed? Be adorable."
Abed blinks. "I can do that."
"Be more adorable. Right now, you look kinda shell shocked."
He concentrates, like he's trying to make his eyes wide like Annie does when she wants something, but he just ends up looking cartoonish (and not Bambi cartoonish, Junji Ito cartoonish).
"We can work on it," Jeff decides, as he takes his arm. "Right now, you're being beaten out by every twelve-year-old who fell off their bike today."
"They don't decide ER priority based on cuteness!" Troy argues, but there's a note of uncertainty in his voice.
"The hordes of doting parents would disagree with you."
Troy considers this. "We need a doting parent," he realises.
Abed looks up. "Jeff, be my dad."
"I don't wanna be your dad," Jeff mutters.
"That's perfect; you already know your lines."
Jeff rolls his eyes as Troy and Abed snicker.
At the very least, teasing Jeff seems to have soothed their nerves a little, and he glances at Troy, trying to work out if it was an intentional reaction, or just instinctive. He has a remarkable handle on how to deal with Abed's moods, and Jeff tries to make a mental note to ask him how.
Once Abed is seated in the waiting area, Jeff nods towards the front desk.
"Troy, why don't you explain to them what happened, seeing as you know."
Troy nods, and gives Abed's hand one last squeeze before making his way to the front desk. Jeff sits down next to Abed, and places a hand on his shoulder. His eyes are huge.
"Hey," Jeff says. "I'm here."
Abed nods, and fidgets a little.
Troy occasionally glances over at them, gesturing to Abed and making hand gestures which are, on balance, pretty illustrative.
"Do you need something to distract you?" Jeff asks, but Abed jerks his head.
"You're distracting," he says, as his eyes rake over what he can see of Jeff's outfit- his coat- which is utterly mismatched to his form-hugging pants. Somehow, Jeff doesn't feel as exposed as he would if anyone else was watching him like that, which is even more unusual, because it usually feels like Abed has x-ray vision.
"I was at the gym," he explains.
Abed frowns at him. "Those aren't your usual work-out clothes."
Jeff ignores the fact that Abed's apparently been paying attention to that. "They're yoga pants. I was… Trying yoga out."
"Cool." Abed settles on his shoulder, and Jeff feels his nervousness ease a little. Abed is still looking down at his pants, like he's staring at a puzzle he can't solve.
"Can I touch it?" He asks.
"Sure," Jeff says, with a bemused smile.
Abed rests a hand on his knee, and touches him with slow, inquisitive fingers.
"It's smooth," he comments. "It's nice. I don't like wrinkly fabric."
Jeff frowns. It suddenly occurs to him that it can't be comfortable for him to rest on his raincoat, which is particularly crinkled.
"Wait," he whispers, as he unzips it. A part of his mind is screaming at him, but he pushes through it, and removes the coat in one long, awkward motion. He drapes it over the back of his chair, even as his heart starts pounding unnecessarily fast. He's wearing a tight-fitting lilac tank top, and several thoughts flash through his head, lightning-fast, telling him he's underdressed, ugly, inappropriate for this environment; that everyone is staring at him, staring at his chest through his shirt. The moment Abed settles against him, the thoughts stop abruptly.
Abed watches him without comment, then leans against his shoulder again, clearly more comfortable now. His hand is still resting on his thigh. Jeff stays very still, the way he does when one of Britta's cats inexplicably chooses to sit on him; not wanting to scare him away. Gradually, the tension drops from his shoulders, and he lets out a slow, shuddery breath.
Abed's head snaps up. "I thought I was the one who was scared of hospitals?"
Jeff huffs out a laugh. "I guess you're not alone."
Abed frowns, and slides his hand to the left, to where Jeff's hands are folded tightly in his lap. He curls his hand over them, and Jeff's pulse calms, reassured by the simple gesture.
"Hey," Troy says, as he wanderers over to them. "They said we could be waiting a while."
Jeff groans. "I guess we weren't cute enough."
"You gave it your best shot," Troy says, as he eyes the purple tank top.
Jeff flushes, and looks away. Abed shakes his head, and mouths something to Troy. Moments later, Troy claps him on the shoulder. Jeff purses his lips, half-expecting them to launch into some sort of conversation about it, but Troy simply sits down beside him, and snuggles in on the other side, wrapping an arm around his middle. Jeff is surprised, because he was wholly expecting him to sit on the other side of Abed, and the fact that he's not means he's decided that Jeff needs his comfort more, and the thought makes him feel ridiculous, because Abed's the one with the broken nose. He should feel embarrassed, but each of them is a reassuring weight against him, so he takes a deep breath to clear his head. If he thinks about it, being in the middle is a sort of compliment- he's supporting them as much as they are him, and he breaks into a smile. He places an arm around Troy's shoulders, pulling him close, and squeezes Abed's hand.
Abed squeezes back.
It doesn't take very long until Troy is snoring, head drooped against Jeff's chest.
Abed still appears too wired to sleep, and he traces Jeff's leg with his free hand, drawing invisible letters, and numbers, and shapes. With nothing else to do while they wait, Jeff begins guessing them aloud, as Abed hums or haws at each one.
"Square."
"Uh-uh." He does it again.
"Rectangle."
"Mm." He draws a circle, and some kind of stem, with points.
"... A… trapezium? A pineapple?"
"A nuclear bomb. One of those cartoon ones."
"Abed!"
Laughing, he moves his finger faster.
"... Abed?" Jeff guesses, uncertainly.
"Mm."
"Annie… I'm guessing… Shirley? And Pierce."
"Mm-huh." He traces something else.
"... Inspector SpaceTime."
"Mm."
"No Britta?"
"You'd be expecting that."
"So you got my expectations up, then subverted them? God, you're worse than The Last Jedi."
His hand stops. "That's a very serious accusation."
Jeff laughs, and raises his hand to his lips. "I didn't mean it." He presses a kiss to his fingers, and Abed sniffs affirmingly.
Abed writes something in big letters, getting right down to the knee, almost running out of leg space.
"I don't…" Jeff frowns. "Oh." He clears his throat. Bow before Thoraxis," he says, in a terrible British accent.
Abed hums happily.
After maybe half an hour, a nurse calls for them.
"Hey," Jeff murmurs, as he shakes Troy gently.
"Mmmbm?" Troy lifts his head from his chest, and blinks slowly. They rise in unison, Jeff still clinging to Abed's hand, as Troy stretches languidly.
The nurse stares at them. "Oh, we don't need all of you, just-"
"Abed never goes to doctors' things on his own," Troy explains, as he places a hand on Abed's back.
The nurse shrugs, and leads them onwards.
*
Once Abed has been patched up- his nose literally looks like it's being held together by tape, but the nurses assure them it's not that dramatic- he's free to go. By the time they leave the hospital, it's dark outside, and Troy makes a break for the car, yelling out "shotgun!" Abed raises his eyebrows, and gives him a five second headstart, before running to catch up. He overtakes him easily, and the car park- which is noticeably more empty now- rings with the sound of their hollering and laughter.
Jeff shakes his head, and jogs after them, before Abed can break anything else.