Chapter Text
Ted and Rebecca had been together for exactly three months and two days when he was torn from a deep sleep by his phone going off. Earlier that day, they’d agreed that since they had to be up bright and early the next morning to start their journey to Everton, they would sleep separately for the first time in weeks to avoid the inevitable madness of getting ready together under a time constraint, which had sounded practical at the time, but had led to many hours of Ted tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable without Rebecca’s weight beside him.
Fumbling around in the darkness for his phone, Ted had just enough awareness to register that the moonlight streaming through the cracks in his blinds meant that it was either very late or very early before he finally managed to pick up the phone to see “Rebecca aka ‘Da Boss’” on the screen.
“Can’t sleep, baby?” Ted asked, his voice huskier in its barely-awake state.
“The first thing I need you to know is that I’m safe.”
Ted shot up in bed, his heart skipping several beats as his imagination ran wild. “What happened? Are you hurt? I’ll be right over.”
“Ted,” Rebecca’s voice was gently chiding, a tone she’d used with him a hundred times before, but he could still hear something wrong there, something small and scared that she wasn’t able to hide from him now that they were together, and immediately, Ted was halfway out his bedroom door before he remembered that he wasn’t wearing any pants and had to double back.
“Ted, I need you to stay calm. Like I said, I’m safe, so just… take a breath. Can you do that for me?”
Ted tried, he really did, but in his mind’s eye all he could see were a thousand different scenarios where Rebecca was hurt or sick or in danger while trying to put on a brave exterior for him. “No can do, Mary Sue, until you tell me what’s wrong.”
There was a short pause that felt like an eternity as Ted rushed to put on a pair of basketball shorts and a sweatshirt before Rebecca said, “Fine. Some amateur burglars broke into my house—”
“What?!” Ted’s voice rose in pitch and volume as he all but sprinted for the door. “Did you call the police? Were they caught? Did they hurt you? I’ll—”
“Ted!” Rebecca interrupted, her voice losing its forced calm for a moment before she took a shaky breath and started again. “Please, just listen. Yes, I called the police. They’ve already arrested one of the bastards and taken him away. But the police presence alerted the press—even at this ungodly hour—and now the paparazzi are camped outside my door—” Rebecca’s voice wavered—a crack in her strong façade that made Ted’s stomach twist into knots, “—and I would just really appreciate it if… if you would come by? If it’s not too much trouble?”
He could hear the words she didn’t say: I don’t want to be alone.
Ted hated the uncertainty in her voice, and the underlying apology, as if this was asking too much—which made Ted’s stomach twist, because when had Ted ever given her reason to doubt him? Where did she get the notion that he would deny her his company out of spite, ever, let alone in a time of need? He knew it was Rupert—it all came back to Rupert—who put this insecurity in her voice, and he was suddenly overwhelmed by a surge of anger so intense, he thought he might pass out.
It seemed that Ted had paused too long, because Rebecca added, in a voice so small Ted had to strain to hear it: “Please?”
“I’m on my way.”
Rebecca had mentioned the paparazzi, but for some reason Ted was still shocked to see the sheer number of vultures camped out on the sidewalk and across the street from Rebecca’s home. Not for the first time, Ted wondered how it could possibly be legal to harass and terrorize someone for profit. And hadn’t Rebecca said the police had come? He saw no sign of the police, now, which renewed Ted’s anger. How could they just leave Rebecca to fend for herself after a break-in with a mob of people gathered outside her door?
He knew there was no getting around the fact that the paparazzi would see him, but still, he arranged the hood and the neck of his sweatshirt to hide as much of his face as possible. He was halfway through the crowd when he was stopped by a familiar slimy voice.
“Coach Lasso,” Ernie Lounds greeted, shoving a microphone in his face even as Ted tried to pass him. “Come to comfort the missus, eh? Care to share any details of the robbery? What were they after, besides your girl’s…assets?”
“No comment,” Ted growled, shoving past Ernie with more force than he intended, but certainly less than Ernie Lounds deserved.
Ted was barely on the porch before the door opened just a crack and a hand shot out to grab him. He was wrenched inside without warning, Rebecca’s hand fisted tight in the fabric of Ted’s sweatshirt. She used her other hand to secure multiple locks on the door before she launched herself into Ted’s arms.
For a moment, they just stood there in the foyer, Rebecca clinging to Ted like a lifeline. Ted could feel her body shaking, and so ran what he hoped was a soothing hand up and down her back. She was wearing a white silk robe with pink embroidery over a matching set of pink pajamas, and while they were certainly beautiful sleep clothes, he doubted they were doing much to keep her warm on this unseasonably cold evening.
“Thank you for coming,” Rebecca murmured into his neck, where she’d buried her face.
Ted pulled away slightly, wanting to look at her as he spoke. “Wouldn’t dream of staying away. Are you alright?”
Rebecca immediately drew away, pulling her robe closer about her body. “It’s silly business, really. I shouldn’t have made such a fuss by calling the police. Now the press will have a field day. It’ll be relentless.”
Ted furrowed his brow, not sure that he was understanding. “Rebecca, someone broke into your house. Why wouldn’t you call the police?”
She shrugged, but the movement was lopsided, and a new fear lanced through Ted’s heart. It was too dark in the foyer to see any details of her face or skin with any true clarity, and that made his heart skip several beats in terror.
“Did they hurt you?” Ted could hear the edge of panic in his voice, and regretted how high it had risen in his alarm when Rebecca flinched away from the sound.
“They weren’t expecting anyone to be home,” Rebecca turned on her heel to avoid his scrutiny, headed towards the kitchen. “Apparently, the official AFC Richmond schedule said we were leaving last night.”
Ted followed Rebecca into the kitchen, keenly aware that she hadn’t answered his question. He watched as she reached for the electric kettle, and immediately moved to do it himself. Rebecca jumped at his sudden presence inside her space, and he immediately lifted his hands in apology.
“Why don’t you sit down? I may not like tea myself, but I sure as heck can boil some water for you and pour it into a cup.”
Rebecca relented, more out of exhaustion than anything else—Ted could tell.
There was silence while Ted filled the kettle and set it on the stove. When he finally turned back to look at Rebecca, he was struck by how uncharacteristically small she looked, sitting in her silk nightclothes, her posture hunched over in stark contrast to her usual straight spine. Her hair had fallen forward to hide parts of her face.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Ted offered to break the silence. Rebecca’s eyes shot up, like she wasn’t expecting him to let it go so easily. “But can I ask one question?”
Rebecca closed her eyes as she took a deep, steadying breath. “If you must.”
Ted took a deep breath of his own, trying to ignore the familiar twitch in his fingers and instead focus on his breathing. When he had collected himself, he said, “How badly are you hurt? Should we be going to the ER? I mean… A&E—or whatever?”
Rebecca opened her eyes, her face wiped clean of all emotion besides fatigue. “I just have some bruising, I think. When the robbers realized I was home, they panicked. One of them grabbed me and tried to pin me down so the other could escape with the stolen goods. I managed to get one of my arms free to punch him in the face. I think I broke his nose. Mina’s going to kill me—he bled all over the sheets and carpet. Anyway, while he was distracted, I called the police.”
Ted could tell she was giving him an abbreviated version of what happened, but he figured he’d let it slide for now. He could hear the kettle was close to boiling, so he took it off the stove before it could let out its high-pitched screech.
Dropping a tea bag into Rebecca’s favorite mug—not one of the plain white ones she used when they had guests, but rather the ceramic one she hid in the back of the cupboard that she’d made in a pottery class—Ted pondered whether to ask the question on the tip of his tongue.
“Go on,” Rebecca sighed, taking the mug gratefully into her hands when he was done pouring the water. “I can hear your brain turning.”
“On the phone you mentioned only one of them was arrested. Does that mean the other got away?”
Rebecca nodded with a grimace—whether from the subject, or from pain, Ted couldn’t tell. “The police assured me they’ll keep an eye out. If he tries to sell any of what he took, I’ll know about it. It’s a shame—I checked my jewelry box, and while I couldn’t give less of a shit about most of the jewelry left over from my marriage, my grandmother’s wedding ring appears to be missing.”
Needing something to do with his hands, Ted started puttering around the kitchen.
“Ted…?” Rebecca’s voice was quiet, subdued, like she was afraid to speak too loudly. Ted hated it.
“I’m sorry to hear about your granny’s ring. Would it help if I made you some biscuits?”
Rebecca tilted her head. “Ted, it’s three o’clock in the morning. We’re leaving for Everton first thing tomorrow—or rather—today. Shouldn’t we be getting some sleep?”
Ted paused as he set out Rebecca’s mixing bowls. “Do you feel like sleeping?”
Rebecca’s green eyes were suddenly wet with tears. Alarmed, Ted walked around the kitchen island, intending to wrap his arms around her, but stopped himself short when a combination of the light above the kitchen island and the lack of distance between them made him realize for the first time that there was a shadow forming on Rebecca’s face, right beneath her left eye. He could’ve kicked himself for not noticing it before.
The bastards.
“Rebecca? What’s wrong, honey?” Ted coaxed, his arms held out towards her hesitantly, as if afraid to touch her.
She shook her head fiercely, wiping angrily at her tears. “Nothing, nothing. It’s just—you’re right. I don’t want to sleep. I’m scared I won’t be able to sleep in my room for a while.”
Ted nodded, feeling his own tears pricking at his eyes. “That’s normal, baby. How ‘bout we go in one of the guest rooms instead? Or camp out on the couch, with all those fluffy throw blankets you like so much? Or we could just stay up all night like a couple of sugared-up kids, eating biscuits?”
Rebecca reached for him, then, and he carefully tucked her against his body right before the first sob broke. Ted didn’t know what to do except hold her close and whisper sweet nothings until she calmed down.
Eventually, between hiccupping sobs, she said, “I’m sorry. It’s just—I love you. So much. In case I don’t tell you enough.”
Ted’s heart broke at the same time it was being mended. “I love you, too. And you tell me, plenty. You show me, too. Every single day.”
When the sobbing turned into quiet sniffs, Ted reached up to wipe the last of the tears of away, careful to avoid the bruise blooming below her left eye.
“Does it hurt?” Ted whispered, horrified by the idea of someone striking her in the face.
Rebecca reached up to gingerly prod at the outline of the bruise. It was still very fresh—it hadn’t turned from red to purple yet. When she’d looked in the mirror after the police had left, it was hardly noticeable at all.
“It hurt a little when it happened. Not so much now.’’
Ted’s hands clenched into fists. “I shoulda been here. I woulda showed ‘em how us Midwest folks take care of burglars.” Ted reached for her right hand, on a hunch, and sure enough, he saw slightly swollen knuckles. “But I guess you took care of that yourself, Muhammad Ali.”
Rebecca offered him a small smile through her tears, and boy, it felt like the best gift Ted had ever received.
“So what’s it gonna be, Ali? The couch, the guest room, or biscuits ‘til the sun comes up?”
Letting out a wet laugh that made Ted’s stomach flutter, Rebecca replied, “Biscuits, please.”
“Comin’ right up.”