As he had said before, he had been stuffed in many lockers in his day... but he'd never been thrown into an entire locker room as a punishment. All in all it was probably an upgrade. Though to take a look around it sure didn't seem like it.

The teachers had doused every light save one, which the students huddled under. None of them wore costumes, instead they all bore the same clothes, Greendale Athletics Apartment tees and shorts. All in all there were fewer than he expected but there were still enough that Abed couldn't figure out why they were all there in the first place. The teachers only had two guards posted.

"This is where you belong Abed," Sheffield said from behind him. "With the rest of the trash that probably all liked Moonlighting."

"Am I going to have to wear shorts too?" Abed said.

"Captain Wingbeard has all pirate costumes confiscated and distributed to the faculty," Coach Bogner said, the only pirate that wore shorts as well as the students. "He wants the prisoners to be comfortable and have a full range of movement in their confinement."

"But in your case," Sheffield said. "We're going to let that rule slide... they'll love a pirate."

Sheffield shoved Abed into the Locker Room itself and immediately the students looked up and swarming around him, hooting and hollering and accusing him of being "The One". Sheffield laughed and watched as they dragged Abed to the center of the room.

"You did it! Didn't you!" One student said.

"You know who did!"

"Confess Pirate-wannabe!"

"Tell us where it is you scallywag!"

"Give us Barabbas!"

"Get off him! He's not a pirate wannabe and he didn't do it!" A new, but familiar voice came.

The students separated and Abed looked around to see the voice's owner. He used to listen to recordings of it so he could better distinguish it from others. By now he knew it by heart. If he was right, then in spite of being in a darkened room, things would be a little brighter.

"Abed?" a girl said as she approached. Abed gazed at her, wrinkling his eyebrows in concentration. Then she snapped her fingers in a gesture he recognized as someone remembering something. She produced a pair of glasses from her pocket and placed them on.

"Rachel!" Abed lit up, or as much as he could, embracing her. His mind raced... he hadn't planned on seeing her until their date later that evening. Maybe this was better?

"I thought you would still be asleep! Or at least not here! How did you even get here and why..." she looked over her shoulders at the students watching them. Her voice dropped before she continued. "... why are you dressed like a pirate?"

Abed allowed her to lead him to a more secluded section of the locker room. Abed found his hand wouldn't leave hers. He wasn't even playing a role at the moment, it was just something that felt right; which meant his decisions before he came back to Greendale were also right. His free hand dipped into his pocket and he gave himself a quick nod, the tiny, all important item he intended to give her was still there.

But there was no time for that, he filled her in on what had happened to him since coming back to the school and what Jeff had done. The students had gone back to huddling near the light and Abed found his attention drifting to whatever they were staring at.

"That was my 'previously on...' synopsis," Abed said. "What about here?"

"What's there to say?" Rachel said. "Any student Wingbeard suspects of stealing his property, he sends here."

"What do you mean?"

"When he took over, he started rounding up students in his law class, that's most everyone you see here," she said. "He accused them of stealing a briefcase or something. When no one confessed he started imprisoning any student he was suspicious of."

"So what are they looking at?"

"The gun," Rachel said.

Abed frowned and took a few steps closer to his fellow prisoners. Sure enough, a regular paintball gun sat on a small stool. The students around it merely stared at it or eyed each other suspiciously. Abed wrinkled his brows.

"So if there's just a gun sitting here, and only two guards... why is no one trying to use it to overpower them? We outnumber them like the ants to the grasshoppers in A Bug's Life."

"They don't need more guards than that," Rachel said. "No one is allowed to leave this room until someone confesses and shoots themselves. If anyone leaves, Wingbeard will give his entire class an automatic 'F'. If someone falsely confesses they all get an 'F'."

"But what about you and the others not in his class?" Abed said then his mind clicked with the answer. "Jeff controls the teachers, they'll fail you too."

"My IT professor swore she would do it," Rachel nodded at one of the two guards. Coach Bogner had left, replaced by a woman. "Wingbeard has oaths like that from all the teachers that have students here."

"Cruel but efficient," Abed said. "Fortunately he didn't consider one thing when he sent me here..."

Abed brought his lips up into what he knew to be rakish grin. He'd practiced it in front of a mirror, over the course of a month, after in depth studying of Harrison Ford and Johnny Depp. In spite of the semi-serious air he was attempting to cultivate he couldn't help but notice the way Rachel smiled at him. She got it.

"And what's that?" She said, generously giving him the set up.

"...I'm not a student."

Rachel quirked a brow, probably expecting a Jack Sparrow shout out instead of a statement of fact. Almost as quickly her eyes met his with a flash of recognition. Again she smiled that smile and she nodded.

"You can leave without threat of being failed or anybody being failed because of you."

Abed nodded then eyed a small closet on the far side of the locker room. "There's no lock on the equipment closet?"

"Well yeah," Rachel said. "There's nothing in there but sports supplies, not something that's going to really help you in a paintball game."

"Maybe, maybe not," Abed said before heading to the closet and rummaging through. the supplies. For a moment his eyes locked onto a hockey mask and a baseball bat. He could probably assemble four students to wear multicolored bandannas and talk like surfer dudes while doing ninja... but he didn't think that level of real violence would be acceptable. Besides, he was looking for something specific.

"I know this probably isn't the best time... but I'm really glad you're here," Rachel said behind him. "This last while with you in L.A. has been hard."

"Really?" Abed popped his head out of the closet for a second. "Because with the times I've had you visit, it feels like I've seen you more this year than I did the entirety of my last year as a student."

Rachel smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "It's just good to see you at Greendale."

"Well I'm going to have to fall onto a cliche for this one. Because in spite of the pirates and friends having non-magical non-christmas themed breakdowns..." he finally found what he was looking for and came out of the closet brandishing it like a trophy. "... there's no place like home."

"A sling shot?" Rachel eyed the hand held launcher. "What are you going to do with that?"

"We need to escape," Abed said. "And I doubt the students will let me take the paintball pistol. But they may let me borrow a few paintballs."

"What do you mean we Abed?" Rachel said. "You can go because you're not a student, but Professor Vertiga is right there. If I try to leave..."

Before she finished Abed pressed his lips to hers. He knew what she was going to say but he figured he needed to get the ball rolling. A kiss seemed like a good way to go. He still wasn't sure what the overall tonal shift was; until that time he was going to have to make his own. Enough elements had been brought into play that he knew where he was going.

"Okay Abed," Rachel said, pulling herself from him. "I know that in movies a kiss can be used to silence debate or work as a distraction but that doesn't answer my question or solve any of the problems."

"You're right," Abed nodded. "But it was worth a shot. Just trust me okay?"

"You know I trust you."

"Okay, then follow my lead."

Rachel took a deep breath before approaching the two teachers standing watch. Professor Sheffield, now sporting an eye patch and some sort of orange and black pirate get up glared at her but she turned her focus away from him. He didn't matter...Professor Vertiga did. Her IT instructor eyed her with those overly large eyes of hers and insane faux-hawk. In the back of her mind Rachel knew this was crazy, she could fail her class or get expelled if it didn't pan out exactly the way Abed explained.

"Go back with the others Rachel," Vertiga said. "I really don't have time to deal with the likes of you right now."

"I'm not feeling well," Rachel held her stomach. "I think I need to go to the health center."

"You heard Contessa," Professor Sheffield grunted. "We're not falling for it."

"And even if we did," Vertiga said. "There's no point, as long as I'm in the game your grade depends on doing whatever the hell I say."

"Professor," Rachel dropped the act for a moment. "This is a game, you can't honestly threaten my grade because I won't play by the rules."

"This is Greendale," Vertiga said. "And it's paintball, we can do whatever the hell we want."

"Okay, well how long do you think you'll be able to play paintball when my appendix bursts?" Rachel said.

"Nurse Jackie would shoot you the moment you stepped foot in the health center," Vertiga said.

"If you actually start looking sick we'll call an ambulance," Sheffield said aiming his pistol at her. "In the meantime I suggest you sit down before we take you out of the game permanently."

"Okay..." Rachel took a step back. "... Abed...?"

"Who's Abed?" Vertiga pulled her pistol. "That your little boyfriend?"

"We'll get him too," Sheffield said. "That's a promise. Unless you sit with the others right now."

"No, I don't think so," Vertiga said. "I think the students here need an example, just to show them how serious we are. Don't play the game, you get failed and you get painted."

"Abed I really think you shou-"

Before she even finished the sentence there was a whistle in the air and a splash of paint hit Vertiga square in the chest, followed by another one and another. She toppled backward while Sheffield swung his pistol around looking for where the paintball had come from. The air whistled again and the teacher barely managed to dodge out of the way for the incoming projectile.

By this point all the students in the room had stopped staring at each other and the lone paintball gun. They'd barely even paid attention when Abed had taken all of the gun's ammo except for one pellet. Now they watched in rapt attention.

"Come on out Abed!" Sheffield said, aiming his pistol into the darkened rows of lockers. "There's no escaping Davey Jones Locker Room. Not if you want to keep your grade in tact."

"Don't have a grade," Abed said from the shadows. "I'm not a student."

"Ah I see," the teacher grinned, his eye narrowing on a hint of movement in the dark. "You're a vigilante then."

"I have been in the past," Abed replied. "If I find a Batman costume once I get out, I will be again."

"You're never going to get the chance," Sheffield took aim and started squeezing the trigger.

The locker room echoed with the 'pop' of a paintball pistol but the teacher lurched as the paintball splattered on his back. He had been so focused on Abed that he didn't even think to worry about Rachel recovering Vertiga's pistol and shooting him from behind.

Rachel smiled, satisfied with herself as Sheffield fell to his knees and Abed stepped out of the shadows, holding nothing more than his slingshot. He'd only had the four paintballs to begin with. Rachel ran to him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before the pair looked to the other students.

"You're free now," Abed said. "Let's go everyone!"

"You are maybe," one said. "You're not a student."

"But Wingbeard may be watching security footage," Another said.

"What if he comes here himself and checks on us?" still another said. "He'll know we left and fail us."

"Guys he can't fail all of you!" Rachel said.

"He's a teacher," came the reply. "He can do whatever he wants."

Abed sighed and shook his head then clasped Rachel's hand. "Let's go."

"She can't go!" a student piped up. "She's a student! She'll fail us all!"

"Who's going to fail me?" Rachel said. "Vertiga is out of the game. She's not going to be able to tell Wingbeard I left."

A dark laugh came from the lockers and they looked at Sheffield, having finally recovered from the sting of the paintball to the back and the shock of being so easily played. Clearly he had had a more epic death in mind.

"It don't matter kid," Sheffield said. "This lot... they know their place, and you're just an alumni spouting nonsense."

"I'll find a way, even if I have to get rid of Wingbeard himself," Abed said, taking Rachel's hand and heading for the door.

"Wait!" Sheffield lunged forward and grabbed Abed's arm. "I was planning on winning this year. You cost me that. I'll see you pay Abed. I promise you that!"

"You've already been painted," Abed pulled his arm loose. "Besides, whatever grudge you have against me is nothing compared to what will probably go down between Jeff and me. He's Ricardo Montalban to you're Benedict Cumberbatch."

"Of course you'd fanboy over old Trek without giving the new one its due," Sheffield shook his head. "But either way I will get my revenge Abed. From Hell's Heart I'll stab at thee!"

Abed merely raised a brow at the statement. There was nothing he could do now that he was out of the game. He couldn't even threaten them with failing. But something about the way he spoke... It brought up the idea of the theme of this years paintball game in Abed's mind. He was close to figuring it out.

"Come on Abed," Rachel tugged at his arm and they left Davey Jones Locker Room hand in hand.

For the most part, the school had rolled into the same eerie quiet that inevitably took it in every paintball game. The students not smart enough to form packs had been shot and sent home by this point, and the packs were either camping out and waiting to shoot each other, or holding meetings to determine if they would merge.

This put Abed in a strange position. For the first time in any paintball game he didn't have a group. Sure, Rachel stuck with him, he knew she always would, but neither of them were affiliated with a larger group. It was just the two of them against an entire school full of cowards, bullies, and turncoats.

As they entered the theater department and she ran up ahead to secure the area, he found a smile had come unbidden to his lips. She knew the rules of the game without him ever having to tell her or even trick her. She just knew.

"Coast is clear," she said as they moved back stage and into the dressing room. "Though I don't know that there's much left. I was hoping to find you a Batman costume."

Abed nodded, he had expected as much when they decided to detour to the drama department. He still wore his pirate garb, something he now knew would only hinder them if they wanted to help retake the school. He needed a fresh costume, one that fit with his theme. Unfortunately most the costumes had been picked clean by the other students scrambling to get out of their pirate suits.

In the end he wondered why he even bothered. The dressing room looked as bare as a Halloween store on November 1st. Nothing but a bunch of strewn rags, torn shirts, and empty hangers dangling on the walls. It appeared he was going to be stuck as a pirate for a while longer.

"Professor Garrity sometimes keeps costumes in his private dressing room," Rachel said and went to move past him but she stopped as she neared and reached out to grab his hand. "We'll find something for you."

For a moment they thought they heard more footsteps in the room and their hands dropped from each other and went for their weapons. When no one seemed to appear they slowly relaxed and made their way over to Professor Garrity's office.

"So I need to ask you Abed," she said as she worked on the door, it appeared to be jammed. "Why are you in the game anyway? I mean I know you love paintball but your not a student you can't win any sort of prize or be coerced into playing for a grade."

"Jeff," Abed said and saw her eyes cloud over in restrained anger.

"Abed, I love you but your friends sometimes..."

Abed noted her use of Hollywood's three favorite words but chose not to point it out. He knew that if he did he would go on some sort of tangent about character 'a' accidentally saying "I love you" to character 'b' and how it often drove narrative hijinks if that same sentiment wasn't reciprocated.

Instead he just reached into his pocket... it was still there. But this wasn't the time or the place for it yet.

"Jeff is in a lot of pain right now," Abed said. "He's built himself up with the promise of Annie coming back but has only just now realized he's getting a downer ending. Like the series finale of Dinosaurs where everyone dies in the ice age, the finale of How I met your Mother or the last crappy episode of Cougarton Abbey."

"Technically the finale of How I met your Mother isn't supposed to be a downer," Rachel said, opening up a few closets.

"Tell that to the Barney/Robin shippers," Abed said. "And all the viewers that appreciate character growth and good tv."

"Okay," Rachel said. "So this is a downer ending for Jeff. What do we do about it?"

"I tried to talk to him..." Abed said opening a wardrobe but finding it full of gangster costumes, not his preference. "... we should have prepared him for the fact that not all stories have a happy ending. But he won't listen right now, he's in his own Neverland where he doesn't have to face it. We have to take him out of the game. Maybe then he can accept the ending to this story doesn't have to be a complete let down-"

"Like the series finale of Seinfeld," Rachel said.

Abed nodded. "It could just bittersweet like the end of Quantum Leap. Viewers can accept an unhappy ending if there's some nobility or heart in it."

"Pay dirt!" Rachel said as she opened a chest full of costumes.

Abed abandoned the Wonder Woman costume he had been contemplating and joined Rachel by the trunk. At first glance he wasn't seeing much that he would really be considering. He couldn't fight a paintball war in a toga. But they kept searching.

"So Jeff is Captain Hook," Rachel said, pulling out a green tunic. "Does that mean you're going to be Peter Pan?"

"That's playing his game..." Abed said, his eyes locked onto the tunic and things began to click together. Rachel set it aside but Abed kept looking at it. "...In order to beat Jeff I'm going to have to become someone else, become something else."

"Sorry, Abed," Rachel shrugged. "No Batman costumes."

"That's alright," Abed grabbed the tunic. "If the CW can make do with a Batman placeholder so can I."

Jeff sat in his cabin, lights off, swirling the last bits of rum in his tumbler. He never actually cared for the stuff, he was a scotch man through and through. But until the game was over this was his new drink. Outside, most the teachers had either gone off on patrols to find more students or had passed out. As was the case with Duncan, with half his body dangling off a table.

"You really think you're going to win your game if you're all drunk and depressed?" Whitman said.

"What are you still doing here?" Jeff grumbled.

"You said you'd deal with me later, I've been waiting patiently for that moment."

"Well keep on waiting," Jeff said. "You'll see how I win once I find that ridiculous resistance movement."

"And then what Jeffery? Will pretend killing your students make you feel any better?"

"Maybe," Jeff shrugged. "Beats the alternative of-"

A loud 'bang' of a door cut him off. Someone had entered the teachers lounge. He heard some of the teachers yelling, followed by the sound of paintball guns going off. Yet Jeff didn't reach for his pistol. He just sat back and swirled his rum around a bit more.

The sounds of struggle grew closer as the sentry guards were taken out. Whoever it was that was attacking them was good. Jeff had two possible guesses as to who it could be. He knew all the best players personally after all.

Duncan crashed through the entrance, a drunk mess but with no paint on him. A moment later a figure with a vaguely Robin Hoodish look stepped into the darkened room. His face obscured with a hood and a mask, he aimed a slingshot loaded with a paintball directly at Jeff's chest.

"Jeff Winger..." Abed's voice came out in an attempt to sound threatening. "...You have failed this school!"

"Abed," Jeff said casually, still not reaching for his weapon. "Congratulations on finding a way to make this game even nuttier. Might as well be Saturday morning cartoons now."

"They don't do Saturday morning cartoons anymore Jeff!" Abed grunted. "And your reign of terror is over!"

"See that's the thing Abed," Jeff said. "I haven't even gotten started, but removing you from the game will go a long way to rolling out my endgame."

"I've got the drop on you Jeff."

"Me yes, but the thing is, I was just paid a visit by Commodore Spreck of City College. He made me a very tempting offer. I'm still mulling it over but he left me a gift as a token of good faith. Seems like as good a time as any to premiere it."

Heavy footsteps came from the darkened corner of the cabin and Abed grip on the slingshot relaxed as he stared in shock at the latest revelation. If it were anybody else Jeff wished he could have seen Abed's face at the sight of his secret weapon.

"Well if it isn't Clint Eastwood," the Black Rider said, dressed as some sort of pirate assassin, complete with a black hood. "Only now he thinks he's Robin Hood."

The Black Rider fired his customized paint pistols and Abed barely managed to tumble out of the way, shooting back with his slingshot but also missing. The Black Rider sprang after him and Abed dashed from the cabin, yelling into a walkie talkie for tech support.

Jeff finally downed the rest of his rum and examined the contract Commodore Spreck had given him. He was about to pour himself another glass when he spotted something on the floor where Abed had tumbled away. For a moment he eyed Whitman but then decided he didn't really care what the man thought and went over to pick it up.

A thumbdrive. Abed had apparently had a thumbdrive in his pocket. Jeff examined it for a moment before palming it and slipping it into his own pants pocket. He would make sure to return it to Abed when the game was over... if they were still friends