Chapter Text
Ted was having a perfectly pleasant evening. Productive even.
He'd had an extremely competitive Mario Kart tournament with Henry, managed to have a lengthy discussion with Michelle about revamping the custody agreement, and made biscuits for Rebecca.
It wasn't even 10pm yet.
If he was being honest with himself though, he hadn't exactly done much during the day other than putter about the house, trying to sort things out. Getting his gaming systems hooked up and the wifi connected.
His brand new house, that he had purchased a week ago and moved into two days ago. He would miss his little flat, but this was so much better.
It was a lovely house; four bedrooms, all decent sized and three of them had en-suites. A main bathroom upstairs and another one down. Living room, dining room, the most gorgeous kitchen he's seen bar Rebecca's, equipped with a neat little room off the side that he's come to understand is called a utility room. Double garage and a huge garden.
All within a good, gated community. That had been Rebecca and Keeley's doing, convincing him that he had 'status' now especially after coming second in the premier league, he couldn't live somewhere where everyone knew his address, despite his protests.
And it wasn't really gated, it was just posh, like Roy's and Rebecca's. All the houses were similar, built of sandstone, dark accents on windows and roofs.
He was happy here, he could see himself building a life here, and most importantly could see Henry being happy here.
It was all thanks to Rebecca, really.
He was so proud of her, opening her heart out to him, telling him what she wanted, being vulnerable. Everything she was offering was everything he wanted, but he was scared. Scared of letting people down, failing as a father.
His mother's words in his head were almost enough to drown out Rebecca's voice, but he wasn't sure it was possible for him to ever ignore her.
Deciding to stay was easy after her speech, how she begged him to stay and he almost hadn't. His heart had felt like it was ripping in two and he couldn't take it and he cracked.
He went one night to her office, tried to be his usual self, but he was a mere facsimile, in an attempt to be brave, to say firmly that he's leaving and he's sorry and thank you and he'll miss her. Miss her more than she could ever know. More than he can comprehend.
Only that's not what came out.
He never even said anything and her eyes had filled with tears, and one look at those watery eyes was enough to break him. It spilled out of him; his fears, his desire to accept her offer and stay, everything Dottie said to him.
And Rebecca, God bless her heart, talked him off the ledge, away from ruining his life, from everything he'd built here. He will forever be grateful to her that she helped him see that he could stay and still have everything he wanted. That he didn't have to pick, live with a broken heart.
So after both her speeches, it had been a done deal. Well, that and Roy threatening to kick his ass up and down England if he left and made him have to become head coach.
Now though, that he was staying, was indefinitely employed at AFC Richmond and had a salary that made his eyes water, Ted found that he and Rebecca were sort of in an odd place.
Odd in the sense that her words, her offers and everything else they'd said when both of them thought he was leaving were all too...romantic to ignore. Just a tad too huge-romantic-gesture to just forget about.
He tried to talk himself out of the thought, because there was no way Rebecca Welton like liked him, or more. But talking himself out of it was a damn near impossible task when he had Keeley Jones in his ear telling him her best friend was like totally, properly in love with him.
And he's quoting. She gives him eyes over the table, when they all go to the pub together, whenever Rebecca is engrossed in a conversation that isn't with either of the two of them that make him blush.
If it's true and she does like him, it's not like he doesn't reciprocate the feelings. Rebecca is the most amazing woman he's ever met.
Since he decided to stay, they've been spending a whole bunch of time together, they barely leave each other's side. It's been commented on, how if Ted can't be found in his office, the locker room or on the pitch then chances are he's in Rebecca's office. And if Rebecca is no where to be found or running late, Higgins has taken to just asking Ted when she'll be in.
It was only after Jamie made a comment about them coming as a pair now, comparing Rebecca and Ted to Salt n' Pepa and SpongeBob and Patrick that Ted decided to call in the diamond dogs for help.
First, it was to figure out who would be SpongeBob and who would be Patrick. Then it was onto more serious matters, matters of the heart.
Higgins had made his weird little noise, Roy had grunted "well obviously" that he thought was very much less than obvious, Beard had looked up from his book which was something, and Trent, the only one to actually use his words, says that they were dating without actually dating. That just confused the heck out of him even more, how do you date someone and not know it? Or date but not date? It hurt his brain to think about.
Today, they had planned for her to join him furniture shopping, so he didn't end up stuck with his tiny couch again and also so he didn't have a colour scheme of only greys and blues. Furniture shopping was fun, one of the only things he enjoyed about moving, and he couldn't think of someone better to do it with than Rebecca.
He knew she'd been looking forward to it too, getting a head start and looking online for ideas, until she forgot that she'd agreed to go with Keeley into London for a business meeting. She was going to hang with Keeley until the meeting, which was in a bar at night, then was heading to the hotel to get an early night in preparation for some heavy shopping the next day.
It brought a smile to his face remembering her pout as she told him, how she'd admitted she had been looking forward to the mundane task, but that both she and Keeley had been so busy lately and barely had time to see each other outside of work. So when Keeley had suggested the idea a few weeks ago, she'd jumped at the chance then forgotten all about it.
Ted had given her an easy smile, told her it was fine and to go because she and Keeley deserved to spend some time together, and nothing beats quality girl time.
She'd smiled at him in thanks; bright, head tilted, eyes shining. The way she does when he does something simple and basic and commonly courteous that she's not used to and that makes his heart flutter and break at the same time. Because how a woman so fantastically wonderful as Rebecca could be treated with anything other than respect and manner and love fit for a queen is beyond him. But then she looks at him as if he is the kindest man on the planet and he can't help the way it makes him feel.
Besides, with all the time they'd been spending together; days out, days in, lunches, cooking dinners, walks, even just random errands, talking on the phone, what was one night and one day apart?
He'd said that to her, those exact words, that it was only one night and one day, and her face had dropped a little as if she wanted to say something. Like an 'I'll miss you' or an 'it is a long time' and if she had he would've scooped her out her office chair and held her close and whispered an 'of course I'll miss you'.
But that never happened.
A split second and her face had become a smile once more, a soft "thank you, Ted" falling from her lips.
So, he's had a night to himself after texting Rebecca a GIF and an accompanying message telling her to enjoy her night. She hadn't replied yet, and truthfully he hadn't expected her to. She's having fun with Keeley and he wants nothing more than for her to indulge in the craziness that is a night out with Keeley Jones. To have a good time because she deserves it.
He won't lie and say the unanswered text doesn't bring back memories of Amsterdam, but there are no avid cyclers making excessive use of over crammed bike paths near canals in the middle of London. The Thames is a worry, but he has complete faith in Rebecca to stay away from the very edge.
He's stuck a programme on for the rest of the night, until he's tired enough to sleep instead of just drinking his way to a dreamless sleep.
It's a BBC crime drama, one Rebecca has mentioned watching a while back and loving, so he wants to watch it to be able to talk about it with her.
It's a little before 11pm that his pleasant night quickly begins to unravel.
While the programme loads, he's scrolling on Pintrest in hopes of finding inspiration for his living room because all it consists of currently is his old couch and a TV.
The notification that comes through interrupts his scrolling, pinging through the grungy theme tune of the gritty crime show's opening credits, in the same tune as a text message.
Because the last text he sent was to Rebecca, when the banner doesn't display her name he nearly dismisses it.
But then he sees her name imbedded in the words of the message. Then he clocks the sender, not a saved contact or a phone number, but three simple letters.
SOS.
The banner slides away, disappearing away into the abyss that is the top of the screen. His heart sinks to his stomach faster than a boulder in water. Fumbling with his phone, the device nearly smacks him in the face as it almost slips out his fingers as he makes it into his messages app.
He clicks on the text with trepidation, does he really want to know? Before he clicks, he fights the urge to shoot a text to Michelle to check on both her and Henry. Just to check.
With a steadying breath, he taps the unread message. He tries to keep a level head, to remember his breathing techniques and the fact that this could be anything, a prank.
It's a month too early for Halloween, and there are no national 'joke' holidays in England that he's aware of, other than April Fools.
His phone is shaking as he scans the words.
This is an alert that your emergency contact 'Rebecca AKA Da Boss' phoned 999 ambulance and police services at 10:47pm.
'Huh' he thinks, 'what a neat feature. Set someone as an emergency contact on your phone an' get a 'lil text when they call 911. No, 999 here. Gotta remember that, that's an important one. How clever is that, technology and folks these days have really upped their games. It really is-'
It takes his brain a second but once the words eventually click in his head, and all the oxygen in his lungs whooshes out, siphoned by panic.
The sounds of region specific accents (Yorkshire if he had to guess. He's getting better at recognising them) are barely audible over the white noise between his ears.
Rebecca called an ambulance. Rebecca called the police. Rebecca was in London. She called the fucking emergency services.
He had to get to Rebecca.
The first thing he does is he phones her, to no avail. It goes to voicemail.
It isn't until he's searching for shoes (he has so many pairs, where the fuck did they all go!?) that it clicks again, hit him in the gut like a sucker punch from Muhammad Ali.
That while yeah, sure, Rebecca is one of his emergency contacts - her and Beard, two of the most important people to him within close vicinity - for him to receive that text, he must be one of her's.
A smile comes over him momentarily despite the situation.
Snatching his car keys, Ted doesn't even bother to take the time to lock the front door before darting to his car.
It is a truly miserable night, pouring and windy, the exact type of weather he expected when he moved here three years ago. Stereotypically English. He bought the car along with the house, it did have a driveway after all and he couldn't very well rely on Rebecca to get him from A to B, even if he would love nothing more. Spend however long it was, that extra time, with her. Chatting, singing, silent. All of it.
Even though he was still getting used to sitting in and driving on the wrong (right) side of the road, and despite the treacherous conditions the roads are sure to be in, he hops in to drive the hour or so to the capital.
As he pulls away from the last set of traffic lights before the stretch of motorway leading him to her, Ted takes some deep breaths to try and remain as calm as possible. Focuses on something else, however futile.
The car still had that new car smell he loves. He'd been like a spoilt kid in an overly expensive candy store when he'd gone to the dealership. Rebecca had even gone with him to pick one out. She had tried fruitlessly to get him to go to her 'guy', some private dealer but he insisted that he didn't need anything fancy, and settled on a Range Rover.
In all fairness, it was fancier than most, more expensive, but it was nothing compared to the midnight blue Bentley she'd drooled over, or the slate grey Aston Martin he'd had to practically pull her off. That was the day he'd discovered that Rebecca was a car girl, and he couldn't be happier she let him see that side of her. Had locked it away in his rapidly growing Rebecca box of things he learned about her.
The SUV, that he had managed to get in a blue so similar to the Richmond colour, was perfect for him. But right now, in this very moment, he was wishing that he had splurged for the quickest thing they had. Use the extra horsepower to get to Rebecca faster.
Ted calls her the entire journey, tries her number what must be forty times en route to the city centre. Tries Keeley considerably less, but enough that she'll be concerned when she sees the notifications. He doesn't know which instills more fear, Rebecca not answering or Keeley.
The weather ends up helping him more than hindering him, the rain falling hard and fast, hammering over his roof. There was barely any other cars on the roads, no one wanting to leave the coziness of their home to brave the slippery roads.
Breaking the speed limit, especially in torrential rain, was not something Ted recommended. He didn't much care about laws and road regulations right now though. He's probably committed several felonies in the way of road laws, and while he's not sure if that's a romantic gesture, he is sure that he'd do far worse for her. It certainly doesn't shape up in comparison to hers, the whole stopping him for ruining his life thing.
All he could care about, focus on was getting closer to Rebecca, where he could reach for her and see her with his own two eyes. He needs physical proof.
He doesn't even know what's happened yet but he can already feel it building, the uncontrollable grief and panic distorting his view, his common sense and whatever is keeping him sane.
He concentrated in keeping the car going straight and on the high speed swishing of the wiper blades because it's all be can do to keep his mind off scenarios, possibilities. To stop thinking about what happened.
It doesn't really work, his mind too loud to be ignored.
She could've phoned for someone else. It's plausible, he wouldn't put it past her to stop and help a stranger.
Less so because she isn't picking up.
No service. That was an idea.
Not a good one though considering she'd phoned an ambulance.
Could have lost her phone. True, she very well could have, it wouldn't even be the first time. So many times he's walked into her office and she's searching for her mobile between couch cushions, into her house and her phone has been left in the garden, under a blanket, in the wine fridge.
But that then led to thoughts of her, unconscious or worse in the back of said ambulance, so no, she can't possibly have lost her phone.
Panic seeps in like an evil out to get him, letting in images of Rebecca designed to hurt; broken, battered and bleeding, and they flood his mind like poison.
To combat this, the loop he plays in his mind of 'she's fine, she's Rebecca Welton, she had to be' acts as an antidote.
He's made it to London when he tries Keeley again. Nothing.
What is he going to do if neither of them answer, knock on the door of every goddamn hospital he can find? He doesn't know if she's even in a hospital.
Given that it's the only place he can think of to begin his search though, Ted pulls in to park at the first hospital he comes across, a building taller than he thinks he's ever seen. The elevators in there must have some speed on them.
Lights flash everywhere, red and blue bounce alarmingly brightly off all surfaces, but he supposes that's the point. To get attention.
Police cars and ambulances everywhere. Again it makes sense, they belong there, but there's just too many. As he taps on her name one more time, he says a silent prayer that she isn't here. Isn't at any hospital preferably, but if she is, it isn't this one.
Every ring that goes unanswered is like a hammer to the chisel hovering over his heart, cracking it open deep.
On the sixth ring, there's a click. Breathing and heavy background noise fills the car. She's answered.
"Rebecca? Boss? You there? That you?" his questions are rapid fire.
"Ted? Yes it's me, you silly man. You called my number" he's never been happier to hear her sass.
"Oh thank God" he sighs heavily.
"What's wrong Ted? Why do I have nearly fifty missed calls?" her voice is full of concern.
"Me!?" he near screeched incredulously, "what's wrong me!? You're the one that called an ambulance!"
"How the bloody hell did you know that!?" concern fades to confusion.
"I got a text" he states simply.
"A text?"
"Mhm, said you, my 'mergency contact, had phoned nine nine freakin' nine!"
"I didn't know phones did that when you set someone...wait" her voice softens impossibly as she says, "I'm your emergency contact?"
"Me neither, it's pretty neat-o" he mentions, "and duh! Obviously! You're one of the most, if not the most important person in my life this side of the Atlantic" he stresses.
"I'm really that important to you?" her breath stutters. If she doesn't think she is, he's clearly doing something wrong.
"'Course you are. More important than anyone else. 'Cept Henry."
"Of course. But, even more than-"
"-yeah, Rebecca, even more than Beard" he reads her mind. Her dubiousness really is lost on him.
He hears a sniffle, "now, are you in a hospital?"
"Y-yes. But I'm-"
"Which one?" he cuts her off.
"Um...Saint Thomas'" she tells him, "but Ted I'm-"
"Oh" he sighs, Saint Thomas' A&E staring back at him in block letters, contorted by the rain on the windshield. He really had hoped it wouldn't be this one, the one with too many lights and emergency vehicles. The sign of a catastrophe, not the meagre accident he was hoping for. Still, it might all have nothing to do with her. Could be a mere coincidence.
"Christ on a cracker, I've been sat outside this entire time. Be right in!"
He's already out the car and has hung up as she splutters, "what...you're here!?"
Ted splashed through puddles as he runs into the emergency room, his shoes squeaking and squelching on the linoleum. There's no shouting or screaming or blood covering the floor so he takes that a good sign.
Amid the scrubs and pristine white lab coats, he spies police officers. Some are in all black, their badge numbers stuck on their shoulders, while others still have their high visibility vests on, batons, tasers, cuffs hanging off their thick belts.
Three times three different officers approach him; asking what he's doing, why he's here, does he need medical attention and if not, he needs to get moving.
He pays them no mind. Eventually he manages to catch the attention of a young male nurse, explains (tells a small, minute lie) that is wife is here, that her name is Rebecca Welton and asks if he can help him.
The nurse asks him to wait a minute and is immediately lost to Ted in the sea of other medical personnel. The five minutes he stands there feels like eternity, but the man comes back and tells him he can take him to his wife.
Ted doesn't notice the police officer, one of the ones in all black, following a little behind as the nurse in sage scrubs leads him along a labyrinth of identical doors.
They come to a stop outside a door with the blinds drawn. The nurse doesn't say anything before pushing the door open, and the fact that he didn't have to be warned of anything, Ted takes as another positive.
An involuntary "Rebecca" falls from his lips the second he sees her.