Author Notes: This fic was written in 2011 so it's set somewhere in Season 2 up to the middle of Season 3. There are mentions of violence and other heavy topics but nothing graphic. Just giving a heads up to be safe.

He didn't hear his name the first couple of times she called it. Wherever he was at mentally, it was far from here. When he finally registered her voice he looked confused, as if he could barely hear it. His head shifted slightly toward her and he took a breath as if to acknowledge that he heard her.

"Jeff," Britta crouched down in front of the chair he hunched in. Worry lines creased her face and her hand clasped his. He didn't respond at all. His hand remained exactly as it was, his fingers didn't curl to squeeze hers and he kept it steady when she gripped harder.

"Why didn't you call sooner?" she breathed and tried to make eye contact with him. Jeff just shifted his gaze away, but pulled it back when she gasped. "Oh my god what happened to your hand?"

Jeff glanced down at his other hand as if barely noticing it even existed. Wrapped up in gauze, it had three or four patches of rust colored red where blood had soaked through. He wasn't even sure how long he'd had it on. He'd sat in a hospital waiting room for lord knows how many hours and hadn't even bothered to have it looked at. He'd put the bandages on himself.

Britta held the injured hand gently between her fingers and set her eyebrows so that he knew she wasn't letting go until she got an explanation. He tried pulling the hand away but her grip grew tighter. Finally he lowered his eyes, leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose. If talking was the only way to get her to let go…

"I…" his voice came out hoarse and slightly garbled. He cleared his throat and managed to actually look at Britta for a couple of seconds. "I punched a sliding glass door when I found out."

"God… have you had it looked at?"

"Doesn't matter," he shook his head and she eased herself into the chair next to him, still holding his hand.

"Jeff I know you're here for Annie but it could get infected."

"Doesn't matter," he shook his head. "She was in the ambulance when I found out. Had to get here as soon as I could. I'm sorry I didn't call you guys sooner. I… I didn't think. I just wrapped my hand and got here. Got here just in time to see them wheel her out of the ambulance and rush her into surgery. I'm sorry, I should have told you."

"No Jeff, it's alright. I'm just glad you did. I just got off the phone with Shirley. She's on her way right now with the others; even Pierce is riding with them."

"Good," Jeff nodded and stared off at nothing in particular. "Good. She'll need you guys."

Again there was silence. Britta just stared at him as hospital nurses bustled by and a janitor mopped a few feet away. Whenever she moved her head to try and get a look in his eyes he steered his face the opposite direction. A strange feeling kept pricking the back of her mind. She'd expected Jeff to be in a bad way when she got there. But this was… his hair lay flat on his head, not styled in the slightest, dark rings circled his eyes and he looked to have aged twenty years.

"Jeff what's going on? There's something you're not telling me…" her heart skipped a beat, she gasped and leaned in. "It's worse than you told me isn't it? Jeff, be straight with me, is she going to be alright?"

Jeff shook his head. "If it's worse than I told you then the doctors are keeping it from me. As far as I know she's out of surgery and she's resting. They think that she'll make a full recovery in time."

Britta breathed out a slow, calming breath with her eyes closed. When she looked at him again he was exactly as before. A face of stone flat features, wrinkled brow, and empty glossed over eyes.

"So if she's going to be alright," she said. "Then what's wrong?"

For half a moment he actually looked at her. His face twitched and he hunched over again. Britta held onto his hand with one of hers but placed the other on his back, only to recoil when he stiffened. Cautiously, she pulled it back and placed it awkwardly on her knee.

"Jeff?"

"Did you know that she listed me as her primary contact number?" he looked up. A smile had appeared. But it made Britta loosen her grip on his hand just a bit. The smile wasn't the slightest bit amused. It was tight and humorless. It was actually sort of frightening. "Of all the people she could have put down; Shirley, Pierce, you… she put my name down. Not even her parents made that list."

"You mean they don't know?"

"They know," Jeff shook his head. "They're in with her now, her dad drove halfway across the state to get here. I was able to track them down. Turns out my old buddy Alan Connor handled their divorce. Funny little world we live in huh?"

"I guess… Jeff will you please just tell me what's wrong-"

"You know it's funny that Alan was involved too," he hadn't even heard a word she said. "Did I ever tell you about us? We were the best damn defense lawyers in the state. Did you know that I had a ninety five percent acquittal rating? Hell, closer to one hundred after appeals. The DA used to call us the Litter Bugs because of all the garbage we put back on the street. Litterbugs!"

He shook his head slightly as his eyes darkened and he laughed a slow and pained chuckle, almost like each laugh cut his throat a bit. He'd turned his head almost completely away from her now and his hands were shaking.

"What are you talking about? What does this have to do with anything?"

"I spoke to the police," Jeff shook his head. "Shortly after they got her here. The bastard that did this to her had a wrap sheet a mile long. Mostly petty theft and drug use. He only lived a few miles from where Annie does. Did you know why he attacked Annie? He was trying to rob Dildopolis. Who does that? Rob a strap on store? But Annie has to walk through it to get to her apartment. She was in there when he came in with the knife. She hid behind the vibrator shelf when he slashed the first person's throat. If she'd just kept quiet and remained hidden he wouldn't have found her. But she got on her phone and called the police. He heard her. They said that she must have fought. When they examined his body he had a broken nose and an eye all but scratched out."

"Good," Britta nodded. "Annie's always been a fighter."

"He stabbed her twice," Jeff words came out harshly. "If he hadn't been half blind he might have got her in the heart or throat. As it was, she took it to the stomach and shoulder. The creep ran after that and didn't get more than a block away before the police shot him."

"Well he got what he deserved," Britta concluded. "Now we just need to be there for Annie."

"You want to see him?" Jeff sat up a bit, his voice was almost conspiratorial. That smile had reappeared. "Yeah! Here, take a look!"

Jeff reached beneath the chair and pulled out a yellow folder and flicked it into her lap. Britta paused for a moment and tried to look at him, but Jeff was fixed on the folder, or at least pretended to be. Slowly she peeled back the cover to reveal a number of beat up pages and a mug shot of a balding, overweight man. Britta studied the picture for a moment and her lips pressed tightly together and brows furrowed. She didn't believe in a God, Just or otherwise, but the fact that the bastard had been shot not even ten minutes after what he did made her want to believe.

Then her eye caught something else. The documents that accompanied the picture. She didn't look into any of the paragraphs or anything. All she saw was the letterhead. There was a logo there proudly proclaiming that it belonged to "Jeff Winger, Attorney at Law." Britta flipped the pages. Some of them were thick with type, others only held short lists full of legal terms. But each had the same letterhead and on the final page, scrawled in bold red ink across the paper, was the word "Acquitted."

And suddenly it snapped into place. Jeff's aloofness and refusal to look her in the eye. Unconsciously Britta withdrew her hand from Jeff's.

"Oh my god Jeff… did you?"

"Rick Langford," Jeff said. "I convinced a jury of his peers that he wasn't a violent rapist. The judge knew it wasn't true. I knew it wasn't true. But I just kept talking until it became true. He walked because of me. Annie's only real fortune was that she ran into him at the end of the day, when he was hopped up on pcp. If it had happened at night…"

Britta had her hands cupped over her mouth and had pulled both of her knees up to her chest. She'd always known that when Jeff was a lawyer he'd been pretty crooked and amoral, but this? For a moment she didn't recognize him. For half a second he wasn't the man she'd come to care for in spite of his flaws. He wasn't event the shallow jack ass that he put on so much. Instead it was a man she never knew, that did things she wouldn't even think of.

"So now you know," Jeff finally turned to her completely. His eyes were bloodshot and Britta thought their intensity would burn her alive. When he spoke again his voice grew shaky. "Now you've seen the real Jeff Winger and the great things he's done. And because of him… because of me, someone I love has been fighting for her life."

His hands balled up into fists and his entire frame quivered. Britta lowered her hands slightly as his face flushed and his lips tightened together. Now she knew she was right. This wasn't the man she knew before and he was doing things she'd never think he could do. When she'd realized his tie to Annie's attacker, Britta had to admit that the part of her that hated Jeff flared up. But at the sight of him coming completely unglued, becoming so very much not Jeff Winger, that anger drowned and the next thing she knew she was holding him and he shook on her shoulder and sobbed. It didn't take many more seconds for those same tears to prick at her eyes too.

She wasn't sure how long they remained like that but eventually Britta's phone buzzed. She released Jeff and took the phone. Abed. Letting them know they'd arrived at the hospital parking lot. Jeff lowered his brows at that and nodded.

"I…" he stood up and Britta went with him, not sure what was going on. "I'm gonna go."

"What?"

"I can't be here when they come. I could barely handle talking to you about it, almost worse than telling her parents."

"You did what?! You told them?"

"I told them everything," he said flatly. "An orderly had to pull her father off of me. I didn't try to stop him at all. He was right. I only stayed after that because I knew one of us had to be here for her when she woke up. Now that you're here I have to go."

"And where will you go? You can't just leave like this?"

"I have to-"

"Bullshit! Jeff, I know you think this is all your fault but if you want to make this right you need to be here for Annie."

A hint of sarcasm came to his voice. "Because if there's anybody that she'll want to see right now it's me." He shook his head. "No, I have to go."

"And go where?" she grabbed his arm so he couldn't turn away. "Some dive so you can drink yourself into oblivion? Is that what you were going to do? Or were you planning on guzzling a case full of Jack in your apartment? Jeff, Annie needs you here!"

"No she doesn't!" he snapped back. "You didn't see her when they took her from the ambulance. She was white as the sheets she was laying on! She almost died from blood loss! And she was still conscious too. She looked right at me as if begging me to come with her. How do you think she'll see me now that she knows it's my fault-"

"No it's not! Jeff, the man that did this is dead."

"That doesn't change anything. Just because he got his, doesn't change what he did!"

"I'm not talking about him!" Britta motioned toward the envelope. "I'm talking about the amoral sleazy lawyer that got him acquitted in the first place. That Jeff Winger is as dead as the man that hurt Annie."

"Britta stop," Jeff tried stepping away but she locked onto him. "I'm exactly the same guy. You don't think that when I become a lawyer again that I won't be doing the exact same thing?"

"No you won't. Because even if this had never happened. You'd already stopped being that guy. Would Jeff Winger: Attorney at Law have stayed up all night worrying about his friend? Would he have forgotten to get his hand looked at? And do you think that in a million years he would have taken responsibility for his actions? That's why Annie put you on her contact list. Because that's who you are now."

Jeff kept his eyes locked on hers and released a breath that he seemed to have forgotten he'd taken. His shoulders still slumped and one leg was behind the other, ready for a retreat. Britta could feel him pulling away again but didn't move to stop him.

"It will never be the same," he finally whispered. "It will always hang over every conversation and weigh down anything we do."

Whatever Jeff's decision would have been, it was interrupted by the sound of four sets of footsteps rushing at them. Jeff turned just enough to see it was the rest of the study group then turned back to Britta and then searching the hallway behind her for any sort of escape route. Britta remained standing in his way and before he could do anything Shirley pulled him down into a tight hug. Troy and Abed hovered nearby, but Pierce walked right by all of them and grabbed a passing doctor.

"How is she?" Troy asked before Britta could see what Pierce was doing.

"The doctors think she'll recover," Britta said. "She's resting now."

She turned back to hear Pierce arguing with the doctor. "…I don't care what her parents want, I'm paying every bill you hear me? Well go get them if you have to!"

"He's been saying that all the way here," Troy shook his head with a half smile. "The dude even made us promise that if Annie needed an organ that we'd all volunteer."

Britta smiled in spite of everything and hugged Troy. By the time she finished, Shirley had finally released Jeff and was hugging her. Pierce came and rejoined the group, muttering something about the incompetence of medical professionals. Britta looked to Abed, his face remained expressionless and impassive as he hung in the background.

"Abed are you alright?"

He didn't respond for a minute, his eyes moved back and forth for a minute as if he was trying to remember how to speak. Finally he sighed. "I know it doesn't seem right to say it, but this is just like one of those "very special" episodes of the sitcoms on tv. The ones that featured the characters in an uncharacteristically serious situation. I always hated them because they were never funny and dealt with things I had a hard time understanding. I feel like there should be an 800 number that I could call."

"Translation," Troy said. "He's worried."

Shirley grabbed Abed's hand and pulled him closer to the group and Troy placed his arm around his friend's shoulders. Britta found another smile but it faded when she saw that Jeff had backed away. His brows were set low as he searched for the right moment to slip out. He made eye contact with her, as if pleading for her not to say anything. Britta looked away for a moment and then forced herself to pay attention to Shirley's questions. She couldn't force him.

"Um… excuse me…" A voice came from behind. It was a doctor, standing in front of the doors that led out of the waiting room. "Is there a… a Greendale Study Group here?"

Britta slowly raised her hand.

"Annie wants to see you… all of you."

Troy and Abed were first to rush forward, followed by Pierce. Shirley raced to keep up, but somehow she'd locked onto Jeff's hand and was dragging him behind. Britta remained standing where she was for a moment then went to the chair Jeff had been sitting in and collected his coat, his phone, and the folder he'd had with him. As soon as she had them she picked up her feet to catch them. The doctor fell in step behind her.

As they walked, Britta asked the doctor a few questions about Annie's condition and he responded that things were looking very good. The ambulance had gotten there fast enough and she was strong. Britta nodded, then noticed a couple standing off to the side.

They were well dressed, both had dark brown hair, and the man was as tall as the woman was short. In spite of their nice clothes they look worn and kind of disheveled. The heavy bags under their eyes attested to the fact that they'd been there all night. But what really startled Britta was how hard they were glaring at her, at them, at the study group.

"Who are they?" she leaned over to the doctor.

"Ms Edison's parents," he said quietly then stopped her at the door. The rest of the study group went in. "You people mean a lot to her. You know that don't you?"

"Well we're her friends."

The doctor shook his head. "You want to know why her parents were giving you that look? When she woke up she looked around, saw her parents and then asked where her family was. We thought for a moment she was delirious but the more the anesthesia cleared the more she insisted on seeing her study group. She even named and described each of you. The entire time she didn't say a single word to her parents."

Britta almost dropped what she was carrying. She made half a glance back at Annie's parents then back at the doctor. "I better go in."

He nodded and she folded Jeff's jacket over her arm before going in. She sucked in a breath and steeled herself for the worse. She cast one last look around, making sure Jeff wasn't still out here somehow. When she didn't see him she opened the door.

The room was as nice as could be expected in a hospital; the lights were low with the primary light being a lamp at the bedside. Britta snuck in. The group surrounded the bed. Troy and Abed sat at the foot of it, Pierce stood a little behind them and Shirley stood in the gap between the wall and the right side of the bed, close to Annie. And Jeff?

He was on the other side of the bed, kneeling in front of her so he could be eye level. She held his hand and smiled in spite of tears in her eyes. Britta tightened her arms around herself and grinned, even though her eyes stung a bit. Troy said something about wheelchair races as soon as Annie felt up to it. They all chuckled, even Jeff. And Annie held his hand against her collar as if to make sure he knew she wouldn't let it go.

Britta quietly stepped to the trash can. Her foot depressed the lever, popping the lid open. From under the jacket she removed the yellow folder. Letting it open to the last page she loosed it from her fingers and let it tumble into the garbage. That last page, with the word "acquitted" scrawled across, sat atop the others. The lid clapped shut and Britta turned to rejoin the group.