Hunting Season

A/N: This was written in response to the following prompt by eleventhimpala on milady_milord lj.

Prompt: 2. Dark!Fic - X is a sadistic serial killer/rapist. He is a master of deception, having everybody - well, mostly everybody - under his good guy spell. His next target...Annie Edison. She's going to be his masterpiece. Jeff (and bonus points if Britta is his sidekick) has to prove/stop him. Two condition clauses: a) *deleted* but I'm following it. b) Slater's body has to be found, the work of the killer.

So this is the revised, reposted, and soon to be finished (what, what? Finished you say?) story. I don't want to be that ahole who abandons her story cause I hate that guy!

WARNINGS: This is dark kids. There's stalking (of the not sexy kind). There's rape. There's violence. There's language. If any of these things bothers you or offends you please do not read. Please. I decided if I was going to do it I was going to go all the way. You have been warned.

He liked it when they screamed. Sometimes, when they were too terrified to yell, he had trouble getting aroused. Then he had to hurt them more. He didn't want to hurt them. But they needed to understand. They needed to care. Their silence reminded him of his mother, so cold and detached. Their screams reminded him of his mother too—the mother who had finally understood. The mother who loved him.

Annie felt her stomach bottom out as the TV cut to a special emergency broadcast.

"We're sorry to interrupt your regularly scheduled afternoon programming, but we bring a special message, live, from the Denver Chief of Police:

Good Afternoon everyone. The Denver Police Department, working in cooperation with the FBI, is officially issuing a warning to all women with brown hair between the ages of 25 and 40. With the discovery of a third victim the 'Colorado Strangler' has officially been declared a serial killer. We have dedicated every resource to discovering the identity this killer, but we cannot, in good conscience, continue without asking the public to keep awareness of this issue utmost in their mind. If you are a woman who fits the profile released by the FBI we would ask that you stay home after dark, and, if you must go out, always have a friend and some sort of protective gear at hand. If, at any point you begin to fear for your safety please take note of our Emergency Phones placed throughout the city. There is one located at every bus stop in the greater Denver metropolitan area. Thank you.

"If you are just tuning in now," a severe looking woman at a news desk spoke as the broadcast cut away from the scene outside the police station, "the 'Colorado Strangler' has officially been declared a serial killer by Denver's Chief of Police James Keaton. What started with the tragic death of 30 year old Maureen Clemmons has escalated into a terrifying and vicious attack on brunettes living in and around the greater Denver metropolitan area. Several comparisons have been made to New York's Son of Sam killer as women run in droves to beauty salons, dying their hair blond and red in a desperate attempt to escape this monster's notice."

Annie stood frozen in front of the television her coat half on and her keys digging into her hand as the emergency broadcast droned on. Maureen Clemons. Rachel McIntyre. When would they release the name of the third victim? she wondered. Did they finally find Professor Slater? She'd been missing for weeks; everyone was thinking the same thing, but none of them said it. If they said it, it would be real. But Annie knew. Annie knew it was already too real.

"Annie?" Troy asked quietly. "Annie are you okay?"

No, she wanted to scream. No! Haven't you seen the letters? Haven't you seen the texts? But of course he hadn't. No one had. The first letter had come three days ago, and she'd torn it apart immediately. She'd ripped it to shreds and then sliced the shreds until her fingers were too big to grab the tiny slivers of paper. The texts had started that night like he'd known the exact day the letter would be delivered. Every four hours on the hour. It was all a joke, just a stupid joke. But if she showed them to Troy he would tell Abed and Abed would tell Jeff and Jeff would...Jeff would…

You're next.

Annie tried to talk, but nothing came out. She tried to reassure Troy, explain to him that it was a joke—not a very funny joke—and she was just on edge. She couldn't be next because she was too young; hadn't the FBI just warned women between the ages of 25 and 40? She was 21. Clearly someone with a prepaid phone had a grudge against her. It was probably Annie Kim. She was bitch enough to do it.

It was infuriating when Annie couldn't believe her own lie; Troy could tell something was wrong. She just had to calm down, remember that it was all a terrible, awful joke. She didn't have time for this; she had things to do. She had to walk out that door and get on a bus. She had a diorama to finish and a paper to write and it was a just a joke. She was being paranoid because that's what she did and there was no reason to be scared.

I'm coming for you Annie Edison.

"Annie," Abed said from somewhere. "Annie your silence confuses me. Are you in shock?"

The emergency broadcast finished and sounds of cartoons filled the apartment; Annie should be screaming and freaking out. She should be throwing a fit and demanding that they never ever leave her alone. But all she could think about was Maureen Clemmons—just one more nameless girl that no one had known or cared about until she was dead. A girl with no connections to Annie or anyone Annie knew, but she'd been Annie's height, her hair the same color as Annie's. She'd had blue eyes too.

She was found dead and naked off I-70; a highway with hundreds of thousands of people on it every day and no one had seen a thing. No one had paid any attention until there was a naked dead girl laying there tortured, raped and strangled. Annie felt her eyes drift shut, trying to block out that first newscast, trying to what—pretend it wasn't happening? Pretend she wasn't going to die?

Vaguely she was aware of Troy and Abed talking somewhere behind her, maybe in their blanket room. Her friends loved her, she knew that, but if she told them they would start treating her like a kid again. They would start treat her like she was weak and Annie hated that—it reminded her too much of her mother. Troy would freak out, Abed would shut down, Pierce would probably hire a bodyguard, Shirley would bake incessantly, Britta would make her go to lectures about female empowerment and victimization, and Jeff...Jeff would ignore it. He would ignore it and ignore her because Jeff didn't do big emotions—definitely not these sorts of emotions.

So Annie would stay silent until whoever this was caught her and then she would disappear for weeks. They would all look for her, of course, but no one would find her. Where did he keep them she wondered? Where would he keep her? Chained up? Locked in a room? Buried alive?

Little Annie Adderall

Scared and weak she cried some more.

With no one there to catch her fall

I FINALLY CAUGHT THE DIRTY WHORE.

That little ditty had come through ten minutes ago. She should have gone directly to the police. She should have told Troy and Abed and Jeff and Britta and Shirley. Even telling Pierce would have been better than staying silent. What if those letters helped the police find Slater? Oh God she had killed Slater. What if she—what if they…

It was that thought, far too little far too late, that finally made Annie feel something. What if those letters, the letters she shredded and threw away, could have helped the police find Slater?

"Jeff?" Abed said from somewhere far away, "you need to come over right now."

"No," Annie whispered, trying to pull it together, trying to force her body into action. She didn't want Jeff. Jeff couldn't do anything; she was already too late. She had killed Slater. She knew—she knew—that he had her and she'd done nothing.

"What was that Annie?" Troy asked softly. His hand was still above her shoulder, like he was afraid to touch her.

"She saw the announcement about the Strangler and froze," Abed went on. "Cool. Cool cool cool. Jeff's on his way."

"No!" Annie screamed, throwing herself forward and falling on her knees. "Don't! Don't touch me!" Troy reared back as if burnt and Abed jumped at her cry.

"Annie you need to tell us what's wrong," Troy tried again.

"Not Jeff," she said quietly, unable to get her breathing under control. Little Annie Adderall… "He'll yell at me." Scared and weak she cried some more.

"Why would Jeff yell at you?" Abed asked. With no one there to catch her fall…

"I'm ne—ne—next," she stammered out. Why couldn't she breathe? Why was her face wet? Oh god, oh god, she'd killed Slater. I FINALLY CAUGHT THE DIRTY WHORE!

"What do you mean?" Troy said.

Whore.

"I'm," Annie tried again, unable to speak around the tremors wracking her body. Whore. "I'm next," she pushed out. Oh god she killed Slater. She killed Slater.

You're next.

"Next what?" Abed asked slowly.

"H-h-he told me…I was next," she whispered.

You're a whore Annie. Do you know what happens to whores?

"Annie," Troy said sharply. She looked up at him and it was there on his face. He'd finally caught on.

"Have you been shredding letters?" Abed asked. He'd started to pace, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Yes," Annie admitted in a harsh whisper. She was hugging her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth now—he was coming for her. They had found the third victim. He was coming for her. She had killed Slater.

You're next Annie. Soon.

Troy and Abed moved away from her and began speaking in urgent whispers. That stupid cartoon was still playing in the background and Annie buried her head in her arms—she wanted to break the TV. She wanted to punch someone, something.

I want to know what you taste like.

When a hard knock rattled the door she jerked and screamed. Troy ran and threw open the deadbolts before Jeff could knock again; Annie heard his heavy steps as he pounded in and felt his stare as it zeroed in on her, huddled and rocking on the floor.

"What the hell?" Jeff asked.

I can't wait to find out.

"I'm sorry," Annie sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry." Jeff had dated Slater; he'd liked Slater. And she'd killed her. Annie had killed his ex-girlfriend and he would never forgive her.

"Annie," Jeff said gently, dropping to the floor next to her and pulling her into a hug. "What's going on?"

She didn't know why she let Jeff touch her—maybe because she knew he would hate her for this. Maybe because she wanted to believe it was going to be okay—they could find Slater and save her...

I'm going to do so much more than taste you Annie.

"Annie's the next target of the Strangler," Abed blurted.

She felt him convulse, his arms tightening around her. "What?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered burying her face in his shirt. "I'm so, so sorry." It was all she could say.

"Annie," Jeff said carefully. "What are you talking about?"

You'll never see your friends again.

"He's coming for me Jeff," she said, finally raising her head and meeting his blank face. "He's coming for me and I haven't done anything to stop it. I've killed Slater. I let her die."

Little Annie Adderall…

Jeff couldn't process Annie's words. It was all too ridiculous, too over the top.

"Annie, I don't—" he began, but she cut him off. Her fingers digging into his shirt like claws and her wide, intense eyes inches from his own.

"I killed Slater!" she screamed.

"No you didn't," Abed said.

"I did," she cried. "I did and I'm so sorry. He sent me a letter and I didn't want to believe it. I thought it was a joke, but then the texts came and so I just shut my phone off because it couldn't be real. And we didn't know Slater was missing until yesterday or I swear I would have gone to the police, but I thought it was a joke. I just thought it was a joke…" She trailed off, tears coursing down her cheeks and Jeff felt his heart stutter in his chest. Looking up at Troy and Abed he met each of their gazes and knew his face was blanched.

"Annie," he said, looking back at her. "ANNIE." He gave her a little shake, hoping to—what? Shake some sense into her? It wasn't like there was an appropriate way to react to serial killers targeting you. He let his arms circle her again, one hand rubbing her circles on her back as he tried to process. She was trembling slightly, her body shuddering in his arms and he felt lost, useless.

"I need to see your phone," he finally said. "We're going to call the cops. Abed—search the garbage for the shredded letters. Troy call the cops."

"Cool," Abed answered, going to the trash and pulling the bag out immediately.

"On it!" Troy said, already pulling out his phone as he walked into the blanket fort.

"Okay Annie, I need your phone," he said, gently turning back to Annie's huddled form. He felt her take a deep breath, and then another before she finally shifted, pulling her phone out of her pocket and looking up at him. Her teeth were digging into her lower lip but her jaw was set; she was petrified, but she was coherent. He wanted to fix this, to make it so she didn't have to deal with this, but he didn't know how.

Jeff was the king of denial; if Greendale offered a major in "How to Ignore Everything You're Feeling All the Time" he'd be the poster boy. It was the curse of being a fake; the best lie was the one you believed, and Jeff had mastered the art of believing his lies decades ago. It was likely he hadn't been honest about anything he felt since he was a kid. But he couldn't ignore this. This asshole, was harassing Annie. He flat out refused to believe Slater was involved; he wasn't equipped to handle that. He told himself these things happened; terrible people did terrible things and people freaked out. They were all overreacting because Slater was nobody's fool; she was smart and capable and Jeff knew she could handle herself. If ever there was a woman Jeff hadn't worried about it was Slater.

So Jeff just focused on fixing this. They would go to the cops, the cops would protect Annie and find the guy, and everybody would go home happy and healthy. Except for the three murdered women already found. But Jeff didn't know them, and people died every day. Not his problem. Annie was his problem; Annie was his friend. She was the only one he had to protect.

Jeff took her phone and unlocked it, opening the text thread—at least she hadn't deleted any of them. He just stared for a minute, lost. He felt like something had landed on his chest, and he couldn't breathe right. There were a dozen at least. Messages and stupid rhymes and threats and promises and he felt something unfurl inside of him as he scanned them all quickly. They got more and more sexual as they progressed and the things they said, the things they promised—he refused what he was feeling, channeling it all into anger, a white hot rage that made his hand squeeze around Annie's phone, the plastic cracking in protest.

"Jeff," she whispered harshly, her fingers digging into his pant leg. "Jeff he has Slater."

His breath hitched but that, at least, he could ignore. They'd all been told Slater was missing yesterday; the Dean had told Jeff and Jeff had told the study group. But Slater had gone on vacation and she'd probably just missed her flight and lost her phone. Happened all the time.

"No he doesn't," he patronized Annie, "I'm sure she's fine. Slater's not going to let anybody—"

"He told me," Annie interrupted, "in today's letter he told me he'd 'had a taste of Greendale.'"

"Abed don't touch that letter!" he yelled. They were all going to ruin the evidence and then the police wouldn't have anything to go on.

"I would never corrupt evidence," Abed chastised him. "I was merely peeking in to ensure the letter was where Annie thought she left it."

"The cops will be here any minute," Troy told them all, stepping back out from the blanket fort.

"Yup it's still on her bed!" Abed called.

"He didn't say anything specifically about Slater?" Jeff asked her.

"No, but I—I know," she told him earnestly. "I just know."

"Annie," Jeff forced her to look at him, ignoring and repressing like a champ. "Annie he doesn't have Slater. He could have anyone—it could mean anything."

"But I could have gone to the police!" she shrieked. "I should have gone to the police!"

"Maybe," he said after a moment. "But what he did, what he's doing is not your fault. You aren't responsible for him Annie."

He could tell she didn't believe him but she let it drop, pulling away from him and moving to the couch where she curled up in a ball and sat quietly. Scrubbing a hand through his hair Jeff rose from the floor and went into her bedroom. He wasn't sure he believed himself. He wasn't sure of anything right now. These letters were evidence—what if he was wrong about Michelle? What if...

Fuck what if. He couldn't think about that now. Michelle was fine. She was fine and she was probably home right now, completely unaware they were all worried about her.

I sAw YoU ON campus toDaY.

You weRE So beAUTifuL.

i'Ve hAd A taStE of GrEEndAle

AnD NoW I'llHavE YOU.

It went on from there and Jeff swallowed the heartburn suddenly choking him. This monster had someone from Greendale and he was coming after Annie. Jeff clung to the anger; he was going to find him. And he was going to kill him.

Jeff tried to stay busy while they waited for the police. He needed to move, to be doing something. This waiting was killing him. What about the missing student from Greendale? Had the police even been looking? There was nothing about a missing fourth victim on the news today; they'd found the third body but there was a fourth, a fourth girl out there somewhere who needed their help.

When the cops and FBI finally showed it was controlled chaos, taking the garbage, the letter, and Annie's cell phone. Someone talked to her while someone else grilled him,Troy and Abed, while bodies wandered around looking and peeking and generally pissing Jeff off. He was glad they were there, happy they were taking this seriously, but why were there so many of them? Why weren't more people out on the streets, looking for the fourth victim?

When her phone rang Jeff's heart stuttered and started up again; he needed something to do and he hated himself for it.

"Who's Rich?" the agent her phone asked.

"Oh," Annie sighed, "I was supposed to volunteer with him tonight. He's probably wondering where I am."

"Who is he?" the agent asked again.

"He's a student a Greendale," Annie shrugged. "He's a doctor and takes classes part time—they know him." The agent swung his gaze around to the three men being questioned in the corner at Annie's weak wave. Jeff shrugged and tried not to think about Annie and Rich still working together.

"Can I call him back?" Annie asked. "He's probably worried about me."

"We'll be done soon," the agent replied coldly. "You can make your phone calls then."

"Okay," Annie said looking back down at the ground.

"Are you trying to hinder this investigation Miss Edison?" the agent pushed.

"What? No!" Annie snapped up. "Why would I try to hinder it? I called you!"

"You're friend called us. And apparently," the agent consulted his notebook, "not until three days after the first letter came."

"I didn't think it was real," she whispered.

"And when Professor Slater was discovered missing?"

"I don't—I don't know," she stammered.

"And when Maureen and Rachel were found less than ten miles from Greendale?"

"I didn't know it was so close," she said, shoulders caving in.

"You didn't?" he pushed. "Or you didn't want to?"

"Hey that's enough!" Jeff called out. "She's not a suspect here."

"Everyone's a suspect here," the agent answered. "Including you."

By the time the cops and FBI left Annie looked exhausted and Jeff felt wrung out. But he also felt his instincts—instincts that had dried up since coming to Greendale—tingling. Jeff had made a great lawyer for two reasons; the first was that he was great at bullshitting. To this day he had never met anyone better at talking the truth into being than himself. The second was because he had a great bullshit meter. When people lied to him he always knew—always. And the FBI was lying; everyone was not a suspect. They already had a suspect.

"Hi Rich," he heard, spinning around to see Annie on the phone. "Sorry about not making it tonight, yeah I'm just feeling a little under the weather. I think maybe it's food poisoning. No I'll be in class on Thursday. Sure, I'd love to have breakfast. 9 o'clock? Sounds great. See you then." By the time she hung up Jeff was looming in front of her, his brow furrowed as he saw the bags under her eyes, the waxy complexion, the way her hands wouldn't quite stop shaking.

"Do you really think breakfast dates are the best idea right now?" he questioned.

"Rich is worried about me Jeff," she bit off. "I haven't missed a day of volunteering since I started. And you know what? No, I don't know if breakfast dates are the best idea right now, but I would love to hear what you think the best idea is right now!"

"I'm staying here tonight," Jeff told them all. "Troy, Abed, and either me, Britta, Pierce, or Shirley will be with you at all times. You will not walk alone. You will not go to class alone. You will not go to 'breakfast dates' alone. Is that understood?"

"A) you don't get to tell me what to do," Annie fought back, "you're not my father. B) I will accept company at all times except with Rich because he's Rich. I'm safe with Rich and you would know that if you weren't jealous. Someone can walk with me to the cafeteria, but Rich will walk me to class."

"Don't be a child Annie," Jeff snarled at her, "there's a serial killer after you. Jealousy doesn't factor in here—the only people we're sure about are each other. Even Rich is suspect."

"Wow," Annie said, walking away from him. "I'm being a 'child' am I? Why is that exactly? Because I won't do what you say? Well you heard the FBI man—every one is a suspect so if we want to play it really safe I should just lock myself in my room until they catch the guy or he comes charging in after me!"

"Annie!" Jeff hollered, but she slammed her bedroom door in his face. Spinning in frustration he snarled at Troy and Abed. "I need a pillow for the couch."

"Yeah," Troy said slowly, "maybe you should let one of us talk to Annie from now on."

"Whatever," he dismissed them, dropping to one of the chairs and picking up the remote. Troy and Abed shared a look before sitting down on either side of him. He knew he was being an ass, but he couldn't care. There was a girl missing and the same guy was after Annie. And Slater—he just needed to find Michelle and talk to her. She was fine. He was sure of it.

He knew when she finally told them and he smiled as Winger pulled up to the curb and practically ran inside. Winger—the untouchable king of Greendale. He knew Annie panted after Winger. He'd seen them together, the way she would watch him when she thought he wasn't looking. The way she would throw herself at him. That was when he realized she was a whore like all the others. He'd thought she was special. He thought she was pure. But Jeff Winger dirtied them all.

Angered and excited he went home to the Professor that night. Her eyes widened when she saw him and he just stood there for a moment, growing hard at her terror. He loved this part—the anticipation. She was chained to the basement wall, her hands held captive above her head high enough to keep her on tip toe. He found that exhausted them so they couldn't kick him when he approached. He didn't like being kicked.

Approaching slowly he removed the gag and just listened to her scream for awhile. She thought they were still in town, that someone might hear her calls for help. He loved letting them think there was a chance. It was so much sweeter when they fought.

Running his hands down her arms and across her torso she tried to pull back from him, but the chains limited her movement; her body was cramped and weak. He let them down sometimes so they could regain their strength, but he hadn't let her down in a long, long time. He was almost done with her. Tonight would be the end.

Unzipping his pants he watched her watch him. The way her eyes widened and she started to cry. Sometimes they stopped crying after the first few times and then he had to kill them early. He couldn't help them if they weren't there with him. They needed to be punished, to know he cared. The Professor knew he cared—she was his favorite and it made him hard just thinking about how good Annie would be, how she would cry and scream and beg. He'd kept the Professor alive so much longer than he should, but she was so close to Annie, so like her. She'd touched Annie. He wanted to revel in that; sometimes he could imagine he was touching Annie while he touched her.

She was whimpering now, stupid mewling sounds that irritated him so he closed his fist and punched her, smiling when her head snapped back into the wall. She was dazed and semi-unconscious and he took his time positioning himself. He let his hands stroke up and down her body, feeling the warmth of her skin for the last time. She came to as he pushed, tensing around him and he let his head fall back in bliss. He loved it when they cried. The chains clinked against the wall in time with his grunts, a macabre accompaniment to his movements.

He was so close when brought his hands up, letting his fingers circle the slender column of her throat. He was thinking about Annie, his dear, sweet Annie. Oh how she would fight. He would teach her, he promised himself. He would make her understand. She was thrashing again, fighting for air as his fingers convulsed, strangling her while his body jerked and finished. He stayed there, locked inside her as her eyes glazed and she started to cool around him.

She had died so fast. They always did. Stepping back the chains clinked again as her body fell back, limp against the wall. He tucked himself back in and started upstairs for the plastic and duct tape. Annie wouldn't die so easily—no Annie would last until the end. Little Annie was strong; she would feel everything. Annie Edison would be his masterpiece.

He grew hard again just thinking about it.

By time Annie made it to the cafeteria with Troy she was feeling more claustrophobic than safe.

"And then KickPuncher uses his kickpunch to knock the guy through the wall!"

"Troy I was there," Annie reminded him with a sigh. "We watched the movie together. All four times."

"Oh right," Troy nodded, "sorry. I just like talking about movies."

"I know," Annie agreed with a tired smile.

"Hi Rich!" Troy shouted as they pushed through the cafeteria doors. Troy ran over to him like they were long lost best friends and Annie followed along more slowly behind. She just wanted a moment alone with Rich; she wanted to eat breakfast with him and laugh like they used to when they were dragging the river. She wanted to spend time with someone who didn't treat her like a breakable statue.

"Annie," he said, turning from Troy with a gentle smile. "I'm so happy you could have breakfast with me."

Smiling back Annie felt that same flutter in her stomach every time Rich looked at her. He was just so—so perfect. "Hi Rich," she said with a small giggle.

"Troy would you mind getting us all a cup of coffee?" Rich asked him cheerfully, holding out a twenty.

"Of course!" Troy agreed readily, taking the money and heading over to the very long coffee line, whistling.

"Did you do that on purpose?" Annie asked coyly.

"What me?" Rich feigned. "Ask Troy to get us all coffee so I could have two minutes alone with my good friend Annie? I would never."

"Oh Rich," Annie swatted his arm lightly across the table. "I'm glad you asked me to breakfast. It's been a long time since we've hung out."

"I've been busy," he said easily. "But I was hoping, maybe—I'm thrilled to see Troy, you know how much I adore he and Abed—but I had hoped, perhaps, it could just be the two of us?"

Annie blushed at that; she knew it was odd to bring Troy to their friendly breakfast date. She didn't have an excuse and "a serial killer wants to rape and strangle me" seemed a little to heavy for nine o'clock in the morning but Jeff had insisted.

"I'm always happy to spend time with all of your friends," Rich continued softly, glancing up at her with a look in his eyes she'd never seen from him before. "It's just—I miss our mornings together, dragging the river, taking sandwiches to the homeless folk—you know I've-I've been thinking…thinking a lot about when you asked me out."

Annie thoughts snapped away from her irritation with Jeff. "What?"

"Well," Rich blushed sweetly, "I thought, you know, golly this is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I was going to talk to you at the soup kitchen but then you were sick so I thought maybe we could talk at breakfast. You know, if that were something you were interested in."

She found herself smiling at the way he stammered that out. His reticence was sweet. She'd obviously been spending too much time with Jeff since a normal man talking to a normal girl, stammers and all, made her heart flip flop in her chest.

"Talk about what?" she asked with a small smile.

"Talk about whether, well, whether you would like to go out with me." He said it so sweetly she couldn't help the way her smile widened into a delighted grin. She had to say no of course, she was being hunted by a serial killer after all, but her eyes wandered past Troy standing in line so patiently for coffee, and she thought about Jeff staying the night. Jeff ordering her around. Jeff kissing her and pushing her away; flirting with her and saying it was all in her head. She remembered the way Troy and Abed called him as if she were somehow his responsibility to protect and keep safe. What would it be like, she wondered, to live in a world that didn't revolve around Jeff Winger? What would it be like to go out with someone else?

"If this is a bad time," Rich backtracked quickly, "or if you're not interested I promise I value our friendship far too much to be offended. Please don't feel pressured! I know I'm older than you and if you feel the age gap is—"

"Rich I would love to go out on a date," Annie interrupted him, reaching across the table and taking his hands in her own. Looking up she shyly met his eyes. A date with Rich wasn't being alone and she knew he was strong and capable. He'd been taking karate almost as long as she and she'd be more vulnerable on a date with Jeff. Rich met her smile with a shy one of his own and turned his hands around, wrapping his long, strong fingers around hers and squeezing gently.

"How about tomorrow night? Six? I hear Maggiano's has some lovely specials on Friday night," he said, looking down at their entwined hands.

"Can I-" Annie paused, feeling a sudden unease and unsure why. "Can I ask why now? I thought I was too young."

"You weren't too young Annie," he told her, not looking away from her direct stare. Unlike Jeff he didn't change the subject or turn the tables on her. Rich met her question with a refreshing openness and honesty. "I was scared. Why take Anthropology? Why fight to volunteer with you? I think—well, I don't know why I said no when you asked me out last winter, except that I was scared. I really…I really enjoy talking to you, spending time with you. But I'm not brave Annie. I'm not brave and I didn't want to hurt our friendship."

"Oh Rich," she sighed. Could this be happening? Could Rich really be asking her out on a date? A real date?

"Here's your coffee!" Troy said cheerily. "Who wants cream?"

Releasing his hands Annie pulled back to her side of the table and scooted over to make room for Troy. "Six is fine."

She and Rich shared a secret grin as Troy launched into another synopsis of Kickpuncher 2, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents flowing between her and Rich. Troy was just thrilled to have someone else to talk to about the movie. Annie didn't mind listening so much this time—she was too busy figuring out what she would wear on her date.

Rich walked her to class letting a relieved Troy off the hook to finish last minute homework. They talked easily and Annie couldn't squelch the happy grin dominating her face as she took her seat next to Britta.

"What's with the doctor and the smiles?" Britta asked, eying her smile with suspicion. Jeff had laid it all out for the study group yesterday. They'd agreed on "shifts" and even Pierce was taking his assignment seriously. Except for Rich, her day would be spent with Troy, Britta, Shirley, and Abed; it was sweet, maybe even necessary, but Annie found herself already feeling stifled. She was tired of the worrying glances and pitying treatment. Sometimes it felt like she was dead already.

"Oh it's nothing," Annie tried to brush it off, unwilling to get into it with Britta.

"Troy was supposed to walk you to class," Britta narrowed her eyes. "Rich is not part of this study group."

"Well he would be if Jeff hadn't Wingered him out of it," Annie said sharply.

"Wingered him?"

"You know," Annie shrugged, "used one of his speeches to convince Shirley to vote for Chang."

"Everybody's a suspect Annie," Britta said more gently, reaching out and patting her arm. "You can't trust Rich."

"Why not?" she growled. God, everybody treated her like a child! "Because he's too nice or because he's a doctor? Maybe because no one else at this school has helped more people or done more for the environment? You're right Britta, he's obviously a serial killer!"

People were staring now, but Annie didn't care. She was tired of being babysat and judged. She was tired of never having a moment alone. She was tired of being told what to do and feeling like she was being watched all the time.

She was tired of being scared.

The teacher walked in as she finished her outburst and Annie retreated to her chair gnawing on her lower lip. Britta ignored her, turning back towards the front and she felt bad for yelling but not bad enough to apologize. She was stuck with Britta until Shirley showed up with cookies and a smile, but they didn't talk to each other again. Britta and Shirley made the hand off and Annie thought about apologizing, of inviting Britta to share a cookie, but she couldn't; her friends were wonderful but they never understood. Annie needed to move past Jeff. Shirley rambled on about her kids, Andre, and her computer class, but Annie wasn't listening. Her mind was already on tomorrow night, and the few blessed moments alone she would get with Rich.

By the time she got home and escaped to the safety of her room she was feeling almost normal. She was tearing through her closet for an outfit to wear on her date. She had a date—an honest to god romantic interaction with someone who was good looking, stable, and intelligent. She hadn't received another letter and the text messages had stopped on Wednesday. Things were looking up and Annie was beginning to believe it had all been some sort of sick joke. She still hadn't apologized to Britta, but then again, Britta hadn't apologized to her so she figured they were even. It was almost six, and Annie was watching the clock like a hawk—she was going to get out of this apartment and away from Kickpuncher. She could hardly wait.

Listening to the sounds of Troy and Abed from the living room Annie twirled examining the latest outfit in her mirror with a critical eye. Sighing she waved away the persistent feeling of guilt; she was going to go on a date with a handsome doctor. She wasn't doing anything wrong. She wasn't be alone and there was no reason to put her life on pause indefinitely. Before she could think to hard about that a knock on her door interrupted her modeling show.

"Come in!"

"Are you gonna come watch the movie?" Jeff asked as he opened the door. He stopped, dumbstruck as his eyes scanned her room before doing a full perusal of her. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going out tonight" Annie replied, giving herself one more look in the mirror and deciding this was dress. "I have a date! What do you think?"

"What do I think?" Jeff asked as if she was speaking another language. "Who are you going on a date with? Have you forgotten the part where there's a killer after you? You're not going anywhere!"

"It's with Rich," Annie said, as if that made it all better. She walked to her bureau and rooted through it for jewelry, ignoring the way Jeff's face was going purple.

"Rich?!" Jeff reared back as if struck. "I hate that guy!"

"Jeff!" Annie yelled. "This isn't about you! You gave up any rights to complain about who I date a long time ago!"

"Annie it's always about me," Jeff returned. "I gave up dates of my own so I could come watch Kickface with Major Meta and his Constable Crazy because I thought we were all on the same page here! You can't go on dates! You can't go out with Rich!"

"Well you're not doing me any favors," Annie told him, turning away from him to check her full outfit in the mirror then relented, meeting his judgmental stare with a sigh. "I'll be as safe with Rich as anyone Jeff. He knows karate, first aid—he's spent time in actual war zones. And—"

"And?" Jeff prompted sarcastically.

"And I don't feel scared when I'm with him!"

"Well," Jeff said, "forgive us, your friends, if we insist on making you live in the real world."

"I am living in the real world," she hissed.

"There's a serial killer out there Annie," Jeff told her, stepping fully into her room and shutting the door behind him. "There's a monster out there targeting girls that look exactly like you. He knows where you live. He has your phone number."

"Rich will keep me safe," Annie told him, standing her ground.

"Rich couldn't keep a teddy bear safe," Jeff threw his hands up in the air. "If a kid came at it with a chainsaw he'd smile and hand the damn thing right over."

"Maybe you don't know him as well as you think."

"Maybe you're letting your school girl crush get in the way of common sense."

"Wow," Annie shook her head at him. "You really are something you know that? Crazy Annie and her 'school girl crushes.' Gee Jeff, where would I be if I didn't have you here to tell me what to do! Have fun watching your movie. I'm going on my date." Grabbing her shawl and purse Annie stormed out, ignoring Jeff as he called after her. Ripping the front door open she slammed it behind her with a satisfying echo. She paused in the hallway, the adrenaline of anger giving way suddenly to a moment of panic. Was she being stupid? Was she letting her need to escape Jeff override common sense?

She walked down the stairs slowly pausing at the front door and peeking outside. Rich was waiting out front—his punctuality might be the trait Annie found most endearing—dressed in a black suit with a sensible tie. Taking a deep breath Annie pushed open the door and strode out. This was Rich; she'd spent the night in the worst parts of Denver with Rich. And if anything went wrong she had the police on speed dial. She had nothing to worry about.

"Hello," she said shyly.

"You look beautiful tonight," he told her. Sitting down gracefully Annie ignored the sudden anxiety as a gust of wind tried to pull her skirt out of her hands. No one would attack a girl on a date with a doctor driving a Camry she repeated to herself. "Are you excited for Maggiano's?"

"I've never been there," Annie replied. Her stomach was tying itself in knots as Rich started the car and pulled out into traffic. Maggiano's was in a good part of town—miles away from Greendale.

"Never been there!" Rich cried with mock outrage. "Well I'm so glad to be the one taking you."

He stopped the small talk, looking over at her ashen face and then turned off the radio. "What's wrong? You aren't nervous are you?"

Annie forced herself to look at him. She didn't, no, she wouldn't let Jeff ruin this. "I'm just—this business with the Colorado Strangler has me on edge." There. It was done. She had admitted it out loud.

"Annie," Rich reassured her, reaching across the car and taking her hand in his. "I am always watching out for you."

Looking up, Annie got lost in his gaze. He wasn't smiling this time; his face had that same quiet intensity she'd seen in the cafeteria. He didn't look like a 1950's parody when he looked at her that way; he looked like a handsome man who thought she was beautiful, and she finally felt her nerves settle, allowed to fully relax for the first time since that awful letter had come.

"I believe you," she told him with a small smile. His warm, dry fingers squeezed her own and didn't let go until they reached the restaurant.

When Annie got home that night she was stuffed, a little tipsy, and blissfully happy. Rich had ordered for them—a three-course meal complete with dessert. She was pretty sure she had drank more than two bottles of wine by herself, but it didn't make her maudlin or self-conscious with Rich. With each new glass he taught her how to really experience the wine. With each drink she felt more sophisticated and grown up.

He had regaled her with stories of his recovery work in the rain forest, and building houses after Katrina. Rich had done so much and helped so many people—spending time with him reminded Annie of the dreams she'd nursed before the Adderall had derailed her life. She found herself admitting to Rich that she wanted to study abroad, join the Peace Corps, build schools and serve as a volunteer teacher in Asia. Annie had dreams, dreams she had forgotten about under the crush of school work and a study group that got crazier by the year. But when she was with Rich she saw something new and exciting for her life; when she was with Rich she saw possibility.

Her fingers came up and traced her lips as she walked through the apartment door. He had kissed her good night, a gentle, chaste kiss so different from Jeff's. She didn't feel the same rush that took her breath away when Jeff touched her, but she liked the difference. Rich was slow and easy, demanding nothing anything in return.

"Have a good time?" a cold voice spoke from the darkness.

Jumping clear out of her skin Annie spun around, arms up and poised to strike.

"Jeff!" she spotted him, "you can't scare me like that!"

"At least your scared," he said under his breath, walking forward.

"What are you still doing here?" Annie sighed.

"What are you doing home so late?" Jeff countered.

"Jeff-" Annie began with warning but stopped when her phone beeped from her purse. With a smile she pulled it out eagerly; was Rich texting her already to say he had a good time?

No. Her mouth opened in a soundless "O" as the phone dropped from her nerveless grip, clattering on the floor. She just stood there and stared at it laying innocuously. Was she shaking? She couldn't tell, couldn't seem to find her balance. She felt her knees give out, but she couldn't stop it, couldn't control her descent.

"Annie!" Jeff cried, racing to her side and wrapping his arms around her before she fell. He took her weight as her legs buckled and carried her to the couch, making sure she was lying still before running back to the phone and picking it up.

"Son of a bitch," Jeff growled. He raised the phone as if to throw it, but stopped himself, his arm falling uselessly back to his side. She didn't blame him; if it would help she'd let him break the phone apart with his bare hands.

You looked pretty tonight. Are you whoring yourself out to the doctor now?

The phone beeped again as Jeff stared at the screen. She watched as he read the message, his lips thinning out at what he saw.

The phone beeped one more time. He pushed the power button down and threw the phone on the table. Annie could guess what it said.

"What did the others say?" she asked in a harsh whisper.

"Annie it doesn't mat-"

"What did the others say?!"

Jeff reared back, lashed by the shrillness of her voice but relented. "It said—it said you shouldn't be going on dates. And that—and that nobody got to...nobody got to kiss you but him."

"Oh god," Annie said curling into a ball. She knew it. She knew it and she went out with Rich anyway and now he was in danger. What if she got Rich killed? What if the killer went after Rich because she went on a date with him? "Oh god, oh god, oh god..."

She didn't fight Jeff as he sat down on the couch next to her, pulling her into his chest and holding her close; he rubbed her hair, her back, her arms, but nothing helped. She just...she just felt so fucking useless.

"We'll find him Annie," Jeff told her. "We'll catch this bastard."

Annie didn't waste breath arguing with him. She never should have gone on a date tonight. What was she thinking? How could she be so stupid? She was so angry at herself, terrified and furious at her own naivete. She didn't want to hear Jeff say "I told you so." She didn't want any of this to be real.

Your next flashed in her brain over and over and over again.

She buried her face in his shirt and stopped fighting the tears.

Jeff woke on the couch with a start. "Annie!" he called. She'd been here, safe, and he'd passed out sometime after infomercials started with her wrapped in his arms. How had he not woken up when she pulled away? Jerking himself upright he stumbled around the apartment. "Annie? Annie!"

"Here Jeff," she said quietly, coming out of the bathroom. "I just went to the bathroom."

"You scared me." It came out more judgmental than he meant it to, but he couldn't think straight—he felt like he was bound in knots. He wanted her to understand that he was going to fix this, that he could fix this.

"There's a lot of that going around," she said darkly.

"Not funny." He saw the phone clutched in her hand and felt his lips press together.

"What is anymore?" she shrugged, following his eyes to her half-hidden phone. "I—I needed to know what he was saying."

"Why?" Jeff asked quietly. "Why do that to yourself?"

"It's," she stopped, running free hand through her loose hair. "It's something I can control? I don't even know."

"What do they say?"

"Just more of the usual." She tried to brush past him to her bedroom, but he stopped her with a hand above her elbow. He couldn't stop the wince as the migraine started.

"Tell me what they said," he ordered her.

"Why do you need to know?" she asked, exhausted. "You're not my boyfriend Jeff and you're not my father. This isn't your problem."

"Don't Annie," he interrupted her, letting go of her arm and scrubbing his hands through his hair. Fucking migraines, he could feel the tension building right behind his eyes. Not a single headache before he started at Greendale—now he seemed riddled with them. "Just don't. You know—you know how I feel about you."

"Yeah," Annie rolled her eyes, "because our relationship has always been so clearly defined. Jeff, I don't—can we not talk about this right now?"

"Who's talking about it?" he growled at her. What was wrong with her? It was like he was always saying the wrong thing. When had they stopped being on the same side? "Why are we fighting?" Pain shot across his skull and he gritted his teeth to keep from crying out.

"Since when were we fighting?" Her tone belied her words, showing her irritation. Putting one hand against his head he tried to calm himself down, breathe through the pain. They were all on edge. The police had finally released the name of the third victim and it wasn't Slater. Annie was safe. He could protect them; he could get them all through this if she would just stop fighting him. She would stay safe if she would just do what he said.

"I need you to be a little more grown up about all of this Annie," Jeff finally snapped. He regretted it as soon as he heard his own words.

She didn't scream at him or throw anything at him. She just stood there stiffly and stared at him for a very long time. He was braced for the temper tantrum, not for the quiet dismissal she gave him.

"I think it would be best if someone else stayed with me for awhile," she said. "You clearly need some time alone to...to rest. Or whatever." Spinning on her heel she marched into her bedroom and shut the door, the quiet sound ringing through his head as he stumbled to the table and groped in his coat pocket for the pills he stashed there.

"Fuck," he hissed. He trusted the group. He trusted them all with his life; he just wasn't sure he could trust anyone else with Annie's. Could Shirley intimidate the bastard? Could Pierce fight him off? What if Britta got taken too or murdered outright?

Slater was—no, he couldn't think about that. He hadn't thought about Slater consistently since the Tranny Dance; she'd been pretty firmly forgotten but now she was always there on the periphery of his mind. He needed to know she was okay. He needed to know Annie was safe. He needed the cops to hurry up and find this bastard. He sat back down on the futon trying to make himself comfortable, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He'd talk to Britta at school today and they could figure this out. She was on the same page; Pierce kept offering to hire bodyguards and Shirley brought casseroles over, but Britta understood this wasn't something they could wait out. They needed to be offensive and find this asshole before he found Annie. They needed to stop him before he killed the mysterious fourth victim.

He let his eyes drift shut as the meds finally kicked in, his brow furrowed even as he fell asleep. He hadn't loved Michelle for a very long time. But that didn't mean he wanted her to be dead.

Jeff woke again as the sun managed to land directly on his face. Abed was eating cereal watching cartoons turned down low sitting in one of the chairs in front of the TV; Troy and Annie were nowhere to be seen.

"Troy's still sleeping and Annie left with Britta about an hour ago," Abed told him.

"I didn't ask," Jeff said snappishly.

"You didn't have to," Abed replied unfazed. "Your unacknowledged role as the father of our group places undue responsibility on you as our protector and leader. You've accepted that responsibility but it's clearly taking its toll."

"Are you saying I look like shit?" Jeff asked drolly.

"Something like that," Abed agreed, turning back to his cartoons.

"Thanks Abed," Jeff said with a dry laugh as he pushed himself off the couch. He took a minute and stretched, letting all his joints realign themselves with a series of pops and cracks. He was getting too old to sleep on couches.

Making his way to the bathroom Jeff took care of his immediate needs then checked his phone and texted Britta as he pulled his coat on. Can we talk?

"I'm gonna go home and take a shower Abed," Jeff waved goodbye.

"Cool," he replied, not looking away from the TV.

I'm with Annie. Shirley takes over in an hour. Britta texted back after a moment.

Meet in the library Jeff told her. He scratched at his stubble irritated by the itch. Dammit he needed to shave.

Jeff got the shower, but he didn't make it to meet Britta. Or the class after that. Partly because all the classes at Greendale had been canceled indefinitely, but mostly because nothing mattered once he saw the emergency vehicles swarming Greendale's student parking lot. A sixteen year old high school girl on her way to her dual enrollment found a body next to the dumpster behind the Waste Management building.

There were masses of people huddled up, the lights of police cars and ambulances flashed haphazardly on everything they touched, and the tell-tale black SUV's of the FBI were pulled up, making a horseshoe that did little to repel prying eyes.

He approached slowly, knowing what he was going to find, but refusing to believe it. It could be anything he told himself. It could be another nameless victim he didn't know and had never heard of. That would be awful, but it would be better than...something else. He couldn't wish someone dead, it was unthinkable, but as Jeff approached the crime scene he wished for it fervently—he wished in that moment that it was anybody but Michelle. She couldn't be found dumped at Greendale like so much garbage.

But she was. Her body was covered by a cheap white sheet as cameras snapped photos and people in suits wondered around looking important. A white sheet draped but not weighted down and when a breeze came through it pulled the edge of the sheet up bringing the smell of rotting food and something else—something sweeter and more awful—with it. Jeff saw her then—her eyes were still open and her skin blotchy with bruises and abrasions. It didn't even look like her except it did. She was naked; her sightless eyes finding him in the crowd.

He didn't see his friends; they appeared from somewhere and were suddenly next to him, but he was still stuck, focused on that coarse, white sheet. No one tried to touch him or comfort him and, when he finally pulled his eyes away, he was grateful for that. He'd seen death before, not a lot, but he'd gone to funerals and received phone calls in the dead of night telling him someone he didn't love—but knew he should—was dead. Usually he knew it was coming. One time he didn't.

This was nothing like any of those.

Jeff just stood there. He wondered from somewhere far away from himself if he should be feeling something. He knew he should be feeling something. He was sad. He knew he was sad, but he couldn't feel it. It wasn't like he didn't know this was a possibility. He knew Slater had been missing for weeks; he had heard someone say she'd never actually left on her vacation. But he'd stoutly ignored it all. He had simply refused to believe. Some strange, detached, Abed part of himself supposed it was good he wasn't feeling, but the rest of him was offended that he didn't feel anything. There was no rage, no sorrow, no heartbreak—just a strange emptiness that made no sense.

But suddenly, between one step and the next, the feelings were there on the edge of his consciousness; he could feel them rushing at him through some invisible wall in his brain and he knew needed to get home. He had to be alone before it all broke free. Annie—how could he forget about Annie even for a second? Annie was with Britta. He would text Britta once he was in his car and driving away from here, away from all these people and their stupid gossip and camera phones. Two girls giggled somewhere and suddenly he was immersed in the rage, and something else, an emotion he couldn't even name. He needed to get clear of it all.

"Jeff! Jeff!" someone screamed from behind him. He took three more steps. "Jeff, wait!"

He stopped letting whoever it was catch up. He couldn't just run to his car and peel out of the parking lot—well he could, but he stopped that line of reasoning before he gave into it.

"Jeff," Britta said again, gasping for breath as she caught up to him. "Jeff—" she stopped when she saw his face. He had no idea what she saw there, but he could take a guess.

He said nothing.

"Annie took off with Rich," Britta told him.

"What?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

"She was with Shirley and I went to the bathroom," Britta said shaking her head. "By the time I came out they'd seen the body, and Shirley let Rich take her. I guess he said he was taking her home and he'd stay with her until one of us got there."

From somewhere far away Jeff wondered idly if this qualified as a "killing rage."

Turning from Britta without a word he got in the Lexus. Britta managed to jump in the passenger side as he shifted into reverse and swung out of his space. She pulled her door shut as he flipped it to drive and peeled out, tires squealing.

Britta didn't bother asking him to slow down or yell at him for nearly killing her. She just fastened her seat belt and gripped her door as he tore around corners and changed lanes violently, weaving through traffic and accelerating through yellow lights. They pulled up to the apartment in record time and Jeff didn't even bother to U-turn and park on the right side of the street. Pulling the car mostly to the side he jumped out, locking it as he ripped the door open and ran up the stairs three at a time.

He pounded on the door. No response. He pounded again. Still no response. Lifting his foot he kicked once, twice, three times and the door caved in on itself, tearing from the hinges and hanging by the deadbolt.

"Annie!" he hollered, making a circuit of the apartment. Coming back to the door he met Britta, standing, frozen in the ravaged doorway. "No one's here."

They were almost alone. Only the stupid Jesus freak stood between him and complete isolation. He had watched her as she heard the news about the Professor. He had felt himself harden uncomfortably in his pants as the blood drained from her face and those big blue eyes went dewy with shock. Is that how she would look when she woke up in his basement? Would her mouth open in that little "O" when he entered her for the first time? It was almost time—soon he would have her. Every day she pulled further and further away from that ridiculous little study group. Every day she pulled closer and closer to him.

Soon he would have her. And then it would be too late.

Annie walked up the stairs arm-in-arm with Rich forcing a smile at his lighthearted joke about Snow White and dishes. Her smile froze as she saw the shattered door to her apartment and she stopped, one foot on the top step, her fingers digging into Rich's arm through his coat.

"Annie?!" Jeff called, running out the door. Britta was right behind him, both looking terrified and relieved. Annie's eyes bounced between her friends and her door, unsure what it meant, why they were there.

She tried to speak, but nothing came out.

"What happened here?" Rich said too calmly.

"WHERE DID YOU GO?!" Jeff roared. Rich tucked her behind him neatly as Jeff ran at them, placing himself between she and Jeff, acting as a shield.

"Hey now," Rich said placating. "There's no need for raised voices—"

"I'm not talking to you!" Jeff growled in Rich's face. "Annie where did you go? Why did you leave campus with him?"

She'd never seen Jeff like this—not even when he took an ax to the study table. She wasn't scared of him, she could never be scared of Jeff, but she stayed behind Rich even as Jeff kept trying to push him out of the way, kept trying to get to her.

"Rich took me out," she responded slowly and quietly. "He—I wanted to take my mind off of what I'd seen."

"Did it work?" Jeff snarled. "Did you have a good laugh and forget that Slater is dead? That you're next?"

"Jeff," Britta said with warning from behind him.

"No he's right." Annie raised her chin and finally stepped out from behind Rich. "You're always right aren't you Jeff? You're the one that knows best, the only one that really 'understands the gravity of this situation.' How dare I try to forget for even one freaking moment—as if I could—while spending time with my friend who knows karate, that there's a monster out there stalking me! A monster that wants to kidnap, rape, and torture me before finally killing me and dumping my body in Greendale for all to see! You're right. That's so irresponsible of me. It's a good thing I have you here to protect me and watch out for me."

"How could you live above Dildopolis and be this stupid?" Jeff screamed at the ceiling. "Do you honestly think Dr. Do-No-Wrong can protect you?"

"I'm perfectly capable—" Rich tried to interject.

"Rich is the only friend I have right now that's more interested in protecting me than smothering me!" Annie screamed over the top of him.

"That's because you're a fucking child who doesn't have enough sense to stay at home when she's being stalked!"

Annie reared back as if struck fed up with Jeff and the whole situation.

"Go to Hell," Annie she whispered with vehemence stalking past him and jerking her arm from his grasp when he grabbed her. She spun and looked up at him, her face inches from his. "Don't. Touch. Me."

She held his gaze refusing to back down, their rage and fear equally matched in this moment. Britta and Rich stood in their respective corners, quiet observers as the showdown played out in front of them. Jeff broke first, stomping down the steps away from the apartment. And away from her.

"Come on Britta," he said. "Annie clearly has it all under control, and I'm sure Rich is happy making sure she doesn't get kidnapped, raped, and murdered."

Britta stood in the doorway, her gaze bouncing between Jeff's sneer and Annie's anger. Taking pity on her friend Annie turned and touched her hand.

"Go," she whispered to Britta. "I'll be okay."

"Annie," Britta said, her voice catching on a sob. "I don't trust Rich."

"I know," Annie said, glancing between Rich and her best friend, "but I do."

Britta enveloped her in a hug and Annie gave herself a moment to relish the unconditional support. This wasn't just a fight and they all knew it. She and Jeff—they weren't going to be okay anytime soon. Maybe not ever. It was a long time coming—knowing that didn't make Annie feel any better.

"I'll be okay," she whispered into Britta's ear. "I love you. I'll be okay."

Their eyes were both wet when they pulled away and for one second she was wracked with unease. She was on a precipice and she realized she wasn't ready to jump, she wasn't ready to lose Jeff. But then Rich was there, taking her hand and pulling her gently away from Britta and it was done. It was over. She and Jeff, whatever they had been, was over.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she said to Rich, wiping her eyes after they'd gone. "This—this has been really hard on everyone."

"I'm touched that you trust me so deeply Annie," Rich said, carefully cupping her face in his hand. "I want you to know that I'm here for you."

Annie forced a smile at his words, but her heart wasn't in it. With each moment that passed she was second guessing her decision. How could she have chosen Rich over Jeff and Britta? What about Troy, Abed, Shirley, and Pierce? What was this going to do to the group? Rich leaned in, cutting her thoughts off with a gentle kiss, but she pulled back against his grip. It was too soon and she couldn't bear the feel of his lips against hers.

"Rich," she said unable to break his hold easily. "Rich I'm sorry. I—I can't."

He didn't let go at her words; instead his fingers curled against her scalp, forcing her head back as she gasped.

"Rich!" she cried. "You're hurting me!"

He didn't seem to care; his eyes had gone—feral. It was the only word in Annie's mind and she struggled in his grasp as he forced his mouth onto hers, smashing their lips together. He pulled her away like a puppet, whipping her about by her hair to keep her off balance and Annie reached up, intent on breaking his hold, but suddenly he was using her momentum against her. He slammed her head into the hard plaster of the hallway once, twice, leaving a hole with her face and holding her like a ragdoll in his grip.

"It didn't have to be this way," he said in a cold, alien voice. Fighting the pain rolling across her vision Annie swung out with her hands, her feet, desperate to break free. He back handed her with his free hand and Annie felt her lip split against her teeth as she saw stars, barely conscious.

"I wanted to love you Annie," he said and she felt the terror sink in through the pain. "I wanted to love you, but you were a whore like all the others."

With he hit her again blackness blanketed her.

A/N: Okay so from here on out shit gets real. Also there will be massive revisions so expect things to be quite a bit different, quite a bit more graphic etc. Because of that I might be slow posting the next part and I apologize but it is coming and it will be posted and finished relatively soon. On my honor!