A/N: Hey everyone. So I haven't really written anything long because I've been trying to come up with a good idea. This is something I just kinda wrote out on a whim, but it turned into something rather interesting so I decided to post it. It's pretty dramatic, just a heads up.

When the lights are low in this place, you get plenty of time for thinking about...anything really. I guess this is especially true when it's the day before some good ol' fashion high risk surgery. I found myself doing everything I possibly could today to forget about the events that will occur about 14 hours from now. It's not like I'm necessarily afraid of surgery; after all, I am Jeff Winger.

...albeit a very different looking one.

But this whole thing is utterly debilitating. And I'm not talking about the chemo; I'm talking about just being here. A hospital is a prison; it is a place that bars you from the rest of society, because there is something about you that makes people uncomfortable. Funny...I never thought me of all people would have that problem. And yet here I am. My orange jumpsuit looks remarkably similar to a backless hospital gown but they can't fool me; I know what it really is. God, I hate this place; people will visit you here and there, but no one can really do anything to get you out. And so I talked to the nurses and established a closer connection with them that was really necessary in my eyes. It wasn't because I liked talking to them; it was because I needed to talk to someone. In particular, me and nurse Taren were like best friends now. Best friends through necessity. She was the head nurse for me, but as of late she was mostly just my confidant. Today, we had talked more than we ever have. She knows so much about me; I wouldn't be surprised if she gave my therapist a run for her money at this point. And I don't know if it's me deluding myself, but Taren seems better at making me see the light of things right now. Maybe that's why I'm so calm tonight. Well, maybe "calm" is a bad word. How about "relatively relaxed given the circumstances"? Agh...whatever.

I still hate this place though.

The diagnosis came about 6 months ago. I remember it being the single biggest buzzkill to ever grace a routine checkup. Worse than anything Britta could dish out. Although I guess I should give the doc some credit; he was only doing his job. Doesn't really matter though...words are words.

"Mr. Winger, there is something I would like to talk to you about. I've noticed an abnormality in one of your x-rays."

After the initial statement, words like "cancer" and "tumour" were not really important. All I could focus on was his goddamn voice. I'll never forget the tone of it. It was like a mix of being distant and yet concerned and sympathetic. It reminded me of the tone I usually took with Annie at Greendale when things got too real.

Annie.

They all know. They have for a while. The first month was spent being overly sympathetic and weird. I felt fine, and their pity was unbearable. I remember getting mad one day at them, so they abruptly stopped treating me differently. The second month was probably the best one of the last six. At least the first half was. We all hungout more, although no one addressed the obvious reason for it. I didn't mind though, as long as it wasn't be shoved in my face I could tell myself that we were all just becoming even closer as friends.

And I suppose that isn't a lie.

The second half of month two was filled with injections and treatment that transformed me into what I now like to call, "The reason me and my mirror aren't really on good terms anymore." That's when things began to get awkward. The group tried to turn a blind eye to my lack of hair, which I found amusing as they would have jumped at any other opportunity to poke fun at me had it been for any other reason. The third month was spent between the hospital and my apartment, and the fourth and fifth shifted the balance to mostly the hospital. And now we're here. This month has been hell, I'll admit it. The group of course still visits, in fact they're all coming back tomorrow. It isn't the same though. I feel...disconnected. I'm not really afraid, I'm just...alone. What sucks is that I don't like that feeling anymore. I used to love being alone. Although I suppose most people emerge from prison as a changed human being. I'd really just like to get past the emerging part first, though.

And then today, Taren asked me something that's got me sitting up in this bed instead of willing myself to sleep.

"What will you do if you make it through the surgery?"

It was a question that I had been thinking about for the last 5 hours now. Say I did survive: what then? I couldn't go back to my life before. Things will be so different. Do I even want to be a lawyer anymore? If this thing has taught me anything, it's that life isn't worth being self absorbed in material possessions. I'd want to do something I really love.

...But I don't know what that is.

Maybe I'd spend more time with my mother. Or I might even look for my dad. Even though all my memories of him are terrible, maybe I just need to give him a chance to explain. My time during this has made me realize that a person can act a certain way because they're afraid of expressing what's lying inside. I won't lie; my dad fucked me up mentally. But maybe he isn't too sane either. Mixed feelings make you do weird things, and it can be frustrating. Frustrating enough to make you take it out on the only two people around, even if that happens to be your wife and child. Maybe to some degree he realized what he was doing was wrong, which is why he left. I'm not sure. But if I do live through this, I'll ask him. I'll find him wherever he is, and I'll get some degree of closure.

Maybe then I can finally move on with my life.

I woke up to Taren the next morning. "Hi, Jeff," she said beaming at me. "How are you this morning?" I rubbed my eyes a little bit before looking up at the woman. She didn't seem to be worried or even sympathetic at all. It was like she had no idea what was happening today. "I'm great, thanks."

"That's good to hear." There was a deafening silence in the room, which I was eager to break. I felt like the whole room was closing in on me. "Listen, Taren. I...um...I wanted to thank you. For sticking around with me." She smiled at me. "Well it's my job, Jeff. I get paid to be your friend, and occasionally stick a needle in you." I laughed at her, before she smiled genuinely at me and laid her palm on my hand.

"You're welcome, Jeff. Whatever happens, I want you to know that you have been one of my favourite patients I've ever had. I will miss you."

I saw a tear run down her cheek, and I went in to pull her into a hug. "You're breaking the rules, y'know. You aren't supposed to get too attached to your patients, miss." I felt her laugh silently against me. "I don't really care at this point."

Our little moment was interrupted when the door opened and I saw the unmistakable image of my study group. I smiled at them, but only Britta walked in. She sat down next to my bed, and Taren smiled at me one more time before leaving and guiding the rest of the group to the waiting room. I understood; they wanted to talk to me one at a time. Britta smiled weakly at me, before looking down at her hands.

"Jeff..."

"Ms. Perry."

"You look good."

"Those words are almost 4 years too late."

"Shut up."

"What's in the bag?"

"A baggle."

"..."

"Don't laugh. I thought you could use a decent breakfast."

"Thanks."

"Um...Jeff...I..."

"I know."

"Look, you've been a huge jerk to me sometimes. And I'll admit my first impression of you wasn't a good one. But you've really grown on me during our time at Greendale. You've grown on all of us. We've been through a lot. This whole thing has shown me how much I don't want to lose you. For what it's worth, your douchebagness can really brighten my day sometimes. Whatever happens, our memories will be some of the fondest ones I have."

She was crying, so I opted not to say anything and just hug her. I was going to miss Britta. She had gone from being a love interest to being the annoying little sister. The thing was, as annoying as little sisters are, they still mean a lot to you. And you can't ever deny that. And trust me, I've tried.

"Probably one of the first times I've seen you cry."

"I don't mind."

"I know I sound cool like usual, but the back of your shirt would probably beg to differ right now."

"I should be honored that Jeff Winger's tears are gracing my back."

"Britta?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the baggle."

She pulled away and smiled at me. "I should probably go get the next person for you. We promised we'd make these visits short."

I silently thanked her for calling them "visits" and not "goodbyes".

After she left, a tall, lanky individual came into view. I smiled.

"Hey Abed."

"Hey."

He didn't even look emotional at all. I wasn't upset, or even surprised. That's just the way Abed was. And he probably was upset deep down in his complicated heart.

"Whatcha got there?"

"Oh. This is a picture of us that night we got drunk after Britta drunk dialed you."

"I don't remember this part happening."

"Yeah, at some point we got into my costume closet."

"I look amazing as the Phantom of the Opera."

"I agree."

"..."

"..."

"It was a good night."

"Yeah."

"Thanks for...being you, Abed."

"I don't quite understand what you mean."

"What I mean is, thanks for not changing. I imagine it must have been hard. But I wouldn't have wanted you to act any differently. You're awesome."

"Thanks."

"Haha."

"You remind me of Joseph Gordon-Levitt from 50/50 right now."

"That would make you Seth Rogan I suppose."

"I don't fit that character at all."

"Who does?"

"I don't know. I guess we all do in this case."

"That's a nice thought."

"I'm going to miss you, Jeff."

"Don't say that yet."

"Might not get another chance."

"Well then, I'm gonna miss you too, buddy. Do me a favour?"

"Sure."

"Make a movie on my life?"

"..."

"It was a joke-"

"Absolutely."

I grinned at him, as he stood up. I put the picture on the end table next to my bed as he left. Troy entered afterwards, plopping down in the same chair.

"T-Bone."

"Gotcha these."

"A football and...an action figure?"

"Not just any action figure, that's Kickpuncher my friend!"

"May I ask why?"

"Well, I thought it symbolized how you helped me change from who I once was to who I am now. I really wanted to thank you for that."

"Ah. You're welcome."

"I know it's dumb...you don't have to-"

"Keeping it."

"Thanks man."

"No problem. Hey, listen. I didn't mention this to Abed, but seeing you two grow together has been pretty awesome. I was happy I was able to do that for you."

"So am I. We're both gonna miss you a lot dude. I also gotta thank you for Britta."

"Oh right. How's that going?"

"Really great. She still gets uncomfortable when I'm nice to her, but I don't know what to do about that."

"Well she's still with you right?"

"That's true."

"Don't worry, Troy. She secretly loves it, she just won't admit it. Be nice to her for yourself. Remember what I said to you when we first met. Don't do things for other people. Do things for yourself. Britta's your Letterman jacket."

"You just wrinkled my brain...again."

"I guess I'm good at that."

"It's actually pretty easy for people to do it."

"I hope everything works out for both of you."

"Thanks man."

"Oh and one more thing?"

"Yeah?"

"Make sure you look after Annie and Abed in your apartment. They both probably need more help than they'll let on."

"You got it man. See ya later, Jeff."

"Later, Troy."

I briefly brought my hands to my face to wipe my eyes. There were tears. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought. And I already thought it was going to be pretty damn hard to begin with. I was pushed from my thoughts when Shirley knocked lightly on the open door.

"Jeffery?"

I looked over. Standing there was not only Shirley, but Andre as well who was holding baby Ben. I smiled at them as they walked over.

"You're looking better than before."

"Thanks, Britta said the same thing."

"She did?"

"I know, I was surprised too."

"Oh, stop that. She cares about you a lot you know."

"I know. I appreciate it too. It's just the way we are to tease each other. I think it makes her feel better about all this."

"I made you a brownie."

"Just one?"

"Yes. Because I knew you wouldn't eat it."

"Unless you want me to. They are delicious."

"You're sweet."

"I thought you would have gotten me a cross or something, to be completely honest."

"The thought crossed my mind, but I know you probably would've appreciated the brownie more."

"For what it's worth, I prayed last night."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Couldn't sleep. And...had a lot on my mind."

"Oh Jeffery! That's wonderful!"

"It did feel good."

"I promised the group that I wouldn't bring up anymore religion talk though. And Ben has something he'd like to say to you."

I looked up at the little baby in Andre's arms. After some prompting from his parents, he muttered out "Jeff."

I smiled at the little boy, then back up at Shirley and Andre.

"First word?"

"Of course not. But we thought it was important that he know who you are. Because you're largely the reason why he's here in the first place. I probably would not have been reacquainted with my family had it not been for the study group you created."

"I'm not sure if that's completely true."

"Well...I like to think it is. You're still my second family."

"Thanks Shirley. That's nice."

I hugged both her and Andre and grabbed Ben's tiny hand, squeezing it lightly before they left the room. I put the brownie with all my other little gifts on the end table next to my bed. I looked up and noticed Pierce standing in the doorway, looking hesitant.

"It's okay. You can come in Pierce."

"Thanks Jeffery."

He sat down, avoiding my eyes.

"What's the matter?"

"I just...tend to say the wrong thing a lot. I'm a little uncomfortable right now to be honest."

"Plus, there was a time when our positions here were reversed. Except I'm not faking."

"And my father can't be coming to see me, since he's dead."

"I think you mean vaporized."

"Oh, right. Speaking of that..."

"You're giving me your lava lam- I mean mother?"

"Yeah. About time I let her go. I think that's why she's not coming back. I'm too attached to her."

"That's probably it."

"So, I guess if you have time before this whole life and death thing maybe you could talk to her. Although she's probably not going to listen to you after you killed my dad."

"You know something? I'll give it a shot."

"Good luck."

"Thanks, Pierce."

"Jeffery, listen. I know we've had our differences in the past, but I've always considered you a son to me."

"I guess if there was any time to accept that, it'd be now. And even if it's because I barely knew my own dad, you were kinda like a father to me Pierce."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I know how much you wanted that title."

"It's not about the title..."

"Yes it is. But that's okay. Just don't try anything with my mom."

"Well Jeffery since you called me your father-"

"Don't. Try. Anything. With. My. Mother."

"Alright alright, geez."

"Thank you."

"I guess I should quit while I'm ahead here, huh?"

"Probably a good idea, to be honest."

"But just one more thing."

"What would that be?"

"I know you aren't gay Jeffery."

"Well that's good to hear."

"I was just jealous of your ability to get more chicks than me."

"You still got it, Pierce."

"Thanks, Jeffery. That means a lot."

"Knock 'em outta the water Piercenald."

Pierce walked out of the room looking a lot more prideful than he had walking in. I looked at the lava lamp in my hands. "You know, all things considered, you raised a pretty decent person Mrs. Hawthorne. But I don't need any parenting tips from you if I get out of here. No offense." With that, I put the lamp next to everything else and waited patiently for the last member of my study group.

"Hi Jeff."

"Milady."

Annie walked in quietly and sat down next to my bed. I could see her take a deep breath before she looked at me. "I would say you look good, but you really don't."

"At least you're being honest."

"Wanna hear another piece of honesty?"

"Sure."

"I'm unbelievably scared for you right now."

"I'm scared too."

"When I think of what might happen..."

"Then don't."

"What?"

"Don't think about it."

"Easier said than done."

"Hey, if I can do it, you can."

"Can you do it though? Can you really look at me and tell me that you aren't thinking of what might happen in that operating room?"

"I spent enough time doing that last night."

"...fair enough."

"Hey."

"What?"

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"If I get through this, I was thinking I'd try and find my dad. I want to talk to him at least once after all these years. If I get the chance, would you come with me?"

"..."

"Annie."

"Yes."

"Ha. I was expecting more questions."

"Maybe I want to spend time with you after all this. Maybe I want to spend all my time with you."

"Annie?"

"I'm sorry, this is inappropriate."

"This might be the only time."

"I can't believe I'm the one doing this."

"You know something? Me neither."

"Do you want me to say it or not?"

"I don't."

"Oh."

"Not yet at least."

"But you just said-"

"Let me go first. You deserve that much."

"Okay."

"Annie, I love you. And no matter what happens, I won't stop loving you. And...I'm sorry I never decided to say it when things were better in our lives. But better late than never, right?"

"How can you do this?"

"What?"

"How can you be so...chipper about this whole thing? I can barely keep it together and you seem fine! This isn't fair!"

"Annie..."

"No! Jeff...this is so hard. I love you so much, and all I've ever wanted was to at least have the chance to maybe have you reciprocate those feelings. But now that you are, we might not even get a chance to do anything about it! And yet you seem fine! Jeff...when I think about us never being together again at all...I'm afraid. I don't want this to happen. I would do anything to make sure we can see this through. I just..."

"Annie, it's okay."

"I'm sorry, Jeff. I shouldn't have yelled. I just...I don't know if I could handle you being taken away from me..."

"I feel the same way. That's why I am acting like this. I don't want my last thoughts of us to be sad ones. I want them to be happy. Like they were meant to be."

"..."

"You're so beautiful."

"My mascara is all over the place."

"At least you have hair."

"Jeff!"

"Hey. Come here."

I scotched over and made space on the bed next to me. She carefully climbed in and lay down next to me. I put my arm around her and pulled her into me gently.

"You didn't get me a gift."

"Yes I did."

"You didn't have to...I was teasing."

"I know. But here."

She sat up and removed the chain from around her neck.

"This is your..."

"My rehab necklace."

"Absolutely not."

"No. I want you to have this."

"Why?"

"Because my pill addiction is what brought me to you. You made me realize that rehab was a stepping stone in my life in more ways than the one I initially thought."

"Annie...you wear this every day."

"And I want to be with you every day. For the rest of my life."

"But if I don't-"

"You will."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you need to return that to me after all this."

"Thank you. This...this means so much."

"I love you, Jeff."

"I love you too, Annie."

We lay there together, in silence for a couple more minutes as the study group slowly filled back into the room. They surrounded the bed, and didn't say anything as me and Annie sat up in the bed. Slowly, everyone began to wrap their arms around me in a group hug.

What might be our last group hug.

Taren then silently walked in and waited patiently by the door. After we finally broke apart, she walked up to me and smiled down at me.

"Jeff. It's time."