Chapter Text
Long ago, years before Detective Jones began his quest to discover the identity of the killer, Jeffrey Winger was discovering his own new identity as a law teacher. He wasn't a good teacher - he took no pride in his work and none of his students ever went on to pass the bar - but that's who he was. Jeffrey Winger was a law teacher. His whole sense of self was bound up in his profession. He'd spent years of his life working (or at least his version of working) to get his legal license back. After losing it because it was discovered that he had no college degree, he didn't just lose his job as a lawyer. He lost his identity. Who was he back then if not a lawyer? Who was he now if not a teacher? As much as he built up his exterior image, there was still a hollowness within him. At least with a good job, he could pretend there was something meaningful on the inside. His sense of vanity was so great that his most prized possession was a faucet he'd spent months tracking down just to put the finishing touches on his perfect apartment. Not that any of the women he brought home really appreciated it. It was all just for himself, even the carefully manufactured facade. That was what he valued.
Jeff had friends, sure, but he was never truly satisfied. For the longest time, he saw them as a nuisance. They were a clingy, enmeshed group who depended on him for everything. Then, when they were finding identities of their own and growing as people, they started drifting apart. It was a lot of loss. They didn't need him anymore. First he was stuck with them, then he was stuck without them. They were his family, that much he had to admit. Even before his father died he considered them his only living relatives. A true kinship, the truest he'd ever known. Annie, Shirley, Pierce, Troy, Abed, Britta. He knew each of them and they knew him, more than anyone else. Pierce's death was a big hit to all of them, but it was something they dealt with together, something they went through together. He'd never experienced grief like that before, as a group activity. If nothing else, it was an act of bondage that confirmed they'd be connected for life.
Now, Jeff was on his own, teaching law and loving it. After the Greendale campus was destroyed in the gas leak explosion, the college merged with the nearby City College and Jeff was able to keep his job. It was the ultimate blow off class; he didn't expect anything from his students and they didn't expect anything from him. Well, mostly. There was always one student who wanted to actually "learn law" and "benefit from their education". This year, that wet blanket was Annie Kim. She had ambitions once upon a time, but eventually she figured out that she just liked learning, so she was taking laps around City College's courses until she'd had her fill. Now that she'd worked her way onto law, the burden of satiating Annie Kim's need for education landed on the desk of the put-upon Prof. Winger. No more exams that were just graded drinking contests.
"Professor Winger, what does Roe v. Wade teach us about legal precedent in modern courts?" She held up her hand, but didn't wait to speak. Not that she was interrupting, unless you count Jeff's game of Flappy Bird.
"Great question, Annie," Jeff replied without looking up from his phone. "Class, does anyone have an answer? No? Well, I guess you're out of luck, Annie."
"Actually, Professor, I was hoping for an answer from you."
"I'm a teacher; I don't answer questions, I ask them. If you want answers, go to Google."
"Did someone say 'Poodle'?" The voice came from the back of the classroom.
"No, nobody said..." Jeff started before blinking and looking up from his phone. "Wait a minute, you're..."
"Jeffrey!" The voice was chirpy and excited. It came from someone who'd burst extravagantly through the back door wearing what appeared to be a sexy firehouse dog costume. "What a sight for sore deans!"
"Dean Pelton? But I thought you-"
"Died in a deansplosion?" The dean countered, sauntering down the aisle towards Jeff. "Well, it was nice to have a break while everyone thought I was dead, but I just couldn't stand to see what City College was doing to this school. My school! Plus, it's hard to pay your bills when you're legally dead, so I've been sleeping in your car at night-"
"You what?!"
"-and that was just getting exhausting. And if all that wasn't bad enough, my membership at the costume store expired and I had to go to Party City. Can you believe the only fireman dog costumes they had were poodles? It's ridiculous!"
Jeff stood up to address him. He'd had enough experience with Greendale and the people surrounding it to not be too surprised by the dean's resurrection, but that didn't mean he had to put up with his old employer's antics. He was finally free. "Dean, it's nice to know you're alive," he said through gritted teeth.
The dean bent a knee in response and tossed back one of the puffed up ears dangling from the costume's hat. "Why, thank you!"
"But what are you doing here?"
"Well," he replied, struggling to settle into one of the empty seats, "since I lost my job and I don't have any other prospects, I decided to enroll and gain some life skills. Did you know City College has something called Advanced Ladders? That seemed a little above my pay grade right now, so I thought I'd start with something simple, like Law." Jeff slumped back into his chair, defeated. "What are we learning about today, those wigs the judges wear? Fun!"
After class, as Jeff was walking across campus from his classroom to his car, another unwelcome addition came back into his life. Annie Edison. An old friend, an old flame, an old memory. One he was trying to forget. She now worked for the FBI, she'd moved on to bigger and better things. He was working to do the same for himself. Or at least end his pining. The call came from an unknown number, so he'd answered it without thinking.
"Hi, Jeff." She needn't introduce herself, needn't explain. Her voice carried with it all the information Jeff needed.
"Oh, Annie, hi. Are you okay?" He knew she wasn't, but he needed something to say, something to express other than muted surprise. He wasn't ready to hear her voice again, but she needed him.
"Did you know it takes, on average, three months to plan a terrorist attack?"
"Uh, no, I didn't know that." How else could he respond?
"What if it could take three hours?"
"Annie, are you okay?" His question was technically left unanswered, so he repeated it. His mind was unfocused and her non sequiturs weren't helping him find an anchor. He just hoped she wouldn't force him to continue his spoken word cover of Smooth Criminal.
"Ugh, forget it, I've said too much anyway. I guess I just... I just needed to hear a familiar voice, you know? Life is so crazy right now. Sorry if I'm bothering you, but I just needed to hear a familiar voice. To be reminded of simpler times. This is stupid. I can't talk long, but how are you doing? Are you okay?"
"Sure, you know. No problems here." He lied for a living. Or he used to, in his legal career. Maybe he still did, in a way. "I won't keep you."
"Oh, yeah, thanks for the talk. Tell Britta I said hi for me?"
"Sure thing. See ya."
"Bye-" He hung up.
It had been one of those conversations where he was just going through the motions. After the tough class he'd just had, he wasn't prepared for the emotions insisted onto his mind by the phone call. He decided he needed to treat himself.
After a long, hard day, where else would Jeff go but his favorite bar? As he walked through the doors, the bartender greeted him with a great big grin. "Hey, Jeff!"
"Hey, D'Arcy. I'll have the usual."