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The light of the camera flashes are blinding, painful almost. Ted steels himself, staring out into the sea of cameras, their beady black eyes on him. He’s hit in the face by a wave of pheromones and scent. It takes everything in him not to run.
“So what do you want me to do?”
The only thing louder than the ringing in his ears are the people screaming questions.
“So what do you want me to do?”
The smell, the people, the heat, they press down on him as he holds on to the edge of the desk, his nails digging desperately into the wood.
“So what do you want me to do?”
Ted straightens, barely acknowledging when Beard puts a hand on his shoulder. Off to the side, Trent, a storm cloud over his head, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Ted shoves his shaking hands in his pockets. He smiles, opens his mouth.
“I don’t suppose I’ve been fully honest with y’all. The truth is—”
“You could deny it.” Trent sighs into his coffee. “It’ll be… a mess, for a while, but they if they don’t have—” He looks out the window, watching the raindrops roll down the pane of glass. “All they have is his word against yours.”
Ted watches himself from faraway. Everything is insubstantial as Ted grins. “Maybe I should’ve taken you up on that offer for coffee. Although, think I’m gonna need something stronger to get through this conversation.”
“Ted?” Beard leans close to him, wetting his lip, his only outward sign of nervousness.
Trent leans forward, his hand hovering above Ted’s on the table before he rests the tips of his fingers against Ted’s wrist. He’s so warm. “I’m sorry, Ted.” Trent’s head bows, his hair artfully coming undone from its loose bun. He’s achingly handsome. God, Ted wishes this were a different situation. “And I know that it must feel awful to be pressed, but this is the only chance we have to get ahead of this.” He goes quiet for a moment. “For you to tell the story the way you’d like it to be.”
“What,” Ted almost snarls “that I’m—”
You can almost hear a pin drop in the room. That’s it. The secret is out. There’s no stepping back now. Ted is hurtling off the cliff with no parachute, or maybe, for the first time in forever, he’s flying.
Beard puts a hand on his shoulder.
“I will not be taking questions at this time,” Ted says, his voice somehow steady, “Thank you for your patience.” Ted turns on his heel, smiling wanly at Beard. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
The room erupts.
Ted swallows, stands up straight and walks right out of the room.
He collapses in his chair.
His phone rings. He picks up with shaking fingers.
“Teddy.” His Ma says from the other end of the phone. “What have you done?”
“I’m—I—” the words ‘I don’t know’ sit heavily on his tongue.
“Teddy.” Ma sniffles. “All that time protecting you.” Ted presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, holding back tears.
“Was it me you were protecting?”
Ted makes eye contact with Beard in the silence after that statement. Beard nods, leaning closer to rest his knee against Ted’s.
“I’ve always tried to do my best for you, Teddy.”
“I know, Ma.” Ted bows his head. “But—I’m trying to do the best for me.”
“Even if—?”
“Yeah.” Ma is quiet for a long moment. Ted can almost hear the noises of the farm waking up around her, and in a moment he longs for it. It was all so much simpler. All he wants to be a pup again, held safe in his Mama’s arms.
She breaks the silence first. “How can you be sure?”
“I…can’t.” Beard reaches over and squeezes his knee. Ted breathes in his scent. He aches for the comfort of certainty, but there’s no place to land on the horizon yet.
“Oh Ted.”
Ted wants, with a fierceness that would put a lion to shame, to spill all his shameful secrets to her, to have her tell him that it will all be ok. But as much as he wishes for it, they’ve never had that type of relationship, not when she first pressed that orange plastic pill bottle into his hand and not now.
“If I can make it easier for just one person, I’ll be…ok.”
“Noble.” She sighs. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Be safe, Ted.”
“I—I will, Ma. I love you.”
She sighs again. “I love you too, Teddy.” The phone clicks as she hangs up, as she does, ted’s entire world goes wobbly.
Ted, channelling his best impression of Roy says, “fuck.”
“Fuck.” Ted sighs, covering his face with his hands. “I have to.”
He can feel Trent’s eyes on him like a physical weight, Beard’s too. “You don’t.” Trent repeats. “It’s going to be a mess. They’re going to harass you. You don’t owe anyone this.”
“I have to do it, Trent.”
Trent runs his hands through his hair, sighing as he levels his gaze evenly on Ted. His eyes are kind as Ted’s shoulders droop. “Okay.” He rummages through a bag on the floor, pulling out a beaten-up old laptop covered in sharpie and stickers. “So what do we say?”
Ted is nearly taken out by a bundle of pink florals once he steps out of his office. Keeley slams into him, plastering herself against his chest and hugging him tightly, her face scrunched up in concentration.
“Keeley—”
“Nah, shut up.” Her flowery scent fills the air, the honeysuckle of her natural scent being overtaken by a soft lavender, soothing.
“Aye, aye, captain.” Ted squeezes her tightly back, tucking his nose into her hair. He takes a deep breath in. Here and now, he starts to feel real again.
“Good.” She wiggles out of his arms reaching up to put her hands on his shoulders. “Here.” She hands him a scarf. He squints at it, confused, but his little omega instincts preen. “I’ll get you something better later. We’ll have to catch up. Coffee?”
“Darn tooting.” Ted smiles, and she squeezes his shoulder, grinning.
She nods, short and decisive before she trots off. It takes a moment to register, really, the scarf in his hand. When it does, something warm swells in his chest, and he feels himself flush. He looks at Beard, who smiles lopsidedly at him. He runs his hands across the delicate silk reverentially, folding it gently and putting it in his backpack, the smell of flowers around him.
Rebecca shuffles her papers around on the desk, staring out the window. He’s got the distinct feeling he’s been called to the principal's office, twiddling his thumbs as he waits for her to say anything. His foot taps against the floor, his knee bouncing. Beard hadn’t followed him on this particular excursion, saying something about taking care of business. Ted hadn’t pried.
“So…” Ted, despite his best efforts, is ultimately the one to break the silence.
Rebecca laughs. “So.” She looks him in the eyes for the first time since he walked in here, barely concealing her smirk. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly, no.” Ted smiles, cocks his head. “Kinda sick of it, honestly. Talking.”
“Perish the thought.” She sighs. “Well it was your turn for a truth bomb, I suppose. Crimm mentioned a source in the article?” She pauses, nodding down at the newspaper on her desk, watching him carefully. “You know who it is?”
There’s no use trying to hide from her all-seeing eye. “I do.” He rubs a hand across his mouth, sucking on his teeth. “I…do.” Ted doesn’t even know what to do about it. He’s—he’s angry, and he’s hurt, but what he wants to know most is why.
“There’s nothing I can do to convince you to tell me, is there?”
“No siree, Bob.”
She dips her head with a snort. “I expected it, why am I still surprised.” Closing her eyes, as she still for a moment she looks tired.
“I’m sorry, Boss.”
“No, Ted.” She rounds the desk, leading him over to the low couch, and pulling him down to sit. She leans back, splaying out inelegantly, kicking off her shoes. “Could you have given me a bit more heads up to put some protections in place? Yes. But—” She looks over at him, sitting stiffly. “Relax, Ted. It’s okay.”
“Why?”
“Honestly, it’s a little selfish. If you’d told me earlier, I’d’ve felt obligated to use it against you to ruin the club.”
Ted barks out a short laugh, finally slumping down onto the couch. “But no megalomaniacal impulses now?”
“No.” She steeples her hands, winking at him. “I’m several months evil deed free.”
“Well thank god for that.”
“Yes, well, no rest for the reformed, I suppose.” She turns to look out the window at the clouds hanging in the sky outside. “I would kill for a biscuit right now.”
“I’m plumb out.” He feels his chest tighten. “Had a busy night last night.”
“Oh, with Crimm?” Her voice is filled with implications as she says it, like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “I noticed he was attentive in the press room today.” She grins, and Ted feels like he’s accidentally walked into a tiger’s cage.
“Oh, hush.” Ted fusses with his shirt sleeves, running his thumbnail over the ridges of the cuff of his sweater. “How bad is it gonna be?”
“Bad. But you’ll get through it. You have my full support.” She leans closer, resting her shoulder against his. The soothing scent of rosewater blooms between them.
“Thanks, Boss. Means a lot.”
“Have you talked to the boys yet?”
“No.” The pressure on Ted’s lungs gets heavier, his tongue growing clumsy in his mouth. He feels like he’s falling again.
She hums, leaning forward to pour a glass of water before handing it to him. “I feel like I should offer something stronger…”
“Later.” He winks. “We can do Biscuits with the Boss: After Dark.”
“Good.” The shark-tooth grin splits her face again. “Bring Crimm.”
“Here.” Trent slides onto the bench across from Ted, handing him and Beard each one of the mugs of hot chocolate. “To ease the pain.”
“Thanks.” Ted takes a sip, letting the rich chocolate coat his tongue. Beside him, Beard nods, dropping his arm across the back of the booth. The quiet din of the coffee shop fills the silence. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“The beginning?” Trent nudges his laptop off to the side, folding his hands on the table and pausing. “That’s where I usually start.”
“I grew up in the midwest, no one wants to hear that story.” He’s lost in memories for a moment. The warmth of sunshine on his face, the smell of his Ma’s lotion, his Da’s hand in his hair. They’re not bad memories, but they’re tinged with the tragedy of hindsight. “I always hid it. My Ma, she—” He pauses, shaking his head as he takes another sip of hot chocolate, buying time, maybe. “In any case, I’m a big guy, I could get away with it. After that, I fell into coaching, really. Taught kids, loved it, but—guess I got so stuck in it, I didn’t know how not to. It never felt…safe. Even if—” Ted holds his hands palms up in a helpless gesture.
Beard shifts imperceptibly towards him, curling his arm around Ted. Trent nods, watching him evenly. Ted couldn’t look away if he was paid to.
Trent leans back in his seat, taking a sip of his rapidly-cooling coffee. “And now?”
“Now, I have to. And maybe I’ll help someone along the way.”
“I’m sure you will.” He smiles at Ted for the first time that night. “That’s a good place to start.” Trent pulls his laptop in front of him and starts typing.
The blinds are closed and the room is dark when Ted walks back into his office. He spots the person in his office chair, lit up by the rectangle of light from the door. Ted squints at the figure as they spin in the chair, nearly falling headlong out of it.
“Shit.”
“Hey Jamie.” Ted closes the door, biting back a smile as he flicks on the desk lamp. “Can I help you with something?” Ted figures Beard will forgive him for using his chair as he settles, leaning forward over the desk.
Jamie finishes the spin, turning to face Ted. “I, uh, saw your article.”
Ted falters for a moment, his eyes dropping to the desk for a second. It’s then, in the low light of his office, that Ted realizes that underneath the scent of Lynx, Jamie doesn’t smell of anything. He looks up and he frowns slightly, looking around the room.“What did you think of it? Trent is an excellent writer.”
“It was good, yeah. Smart and shit.” Jamie picks up a pen and twiddles it between his fingers, hitting it against the desk. He taps it faster and faster. Seeing Jamie’s anxiety, Ted makes the conscious decision to relax. He lets his shoulders drop and takes a deep breath, softening when Jamie does the same.
“Something you want to talk about, Jamie?”
“I just wanted to say—” Jamie looks behind Ted, then down at his hands. “It was a good article. The stuff you said was smart, brave.”
“That was all Trent, Ihe took my clumsy words and turned ‘em into,.” Ted shakes his head ruefully, “well, that. But—” Ted purses his lips. “Was there something else? I can put on my listening ears.” Ted mimes pulling out a briefcase and setting it on the desk.
“Uh, I don’t know—”
The door clicks open and Ted sees Beard silhouetted in the doorway, something red smeared on his knuckles.
“Coach is that—?” Jamie says, and Beard gives him a look that immediately shuts him up.
“I was dealing with a vermin problem.”
“Anything I gotta worry about?” Ted looks pointedly at his hands.
“Nah, it’s all dealt with.” Beard leisurely pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his knuckles. “I’m gonna go get a sandwich. You want anything?”
“Yeah, uh, wasn’t much thinking of making myself lunch this morning, sandwich’d be great. Whatever you think I’d like.” Beard nods, grabbing his wallet off the desk, as he does, he brushes his hand casually against Ted’s shoulder, a brief reassurance. “Thanks.”
Beard nods as he walks out the door, first to Ted and then to Jamie.
Jamie waits until the door closes again to say, “Did he—?”
“Usually better not to enquire,” Ted chuckles, tapping his nose with a finger. “But you, Jamie, Is there anything I can help with?”
Ted can see that he wants to say something, sees it in his furrowed brow and pursed lips.
“I,” he says slowly, “I don’t know yet, if I can be brave about—the thing I wanted to talk to you bout?”
Ted nods, trying to keep the frown off his face. “That’s ok, Jamie, you know my door is always open. I trust you to know when you’re ready.”
Jamie nods and stands. “Thanks Coach.” Jamie hesitates for a moment before he walks around the desk, bending to give him a quick hug. The Lynx really is overpowering and Ted winkles his nose, but Ted wraps a friendly arm around Jamie’s shoulders. “Yeah, ok.” Jamie wiggles out of Ted’s grip. “See you.”
“Bye.” Ted waves as Jamie slips out the door and into the locker room.
Ted’s eyes itch as he lets his head fall onto folded arms. Beard has long since pulled out his phone and started reading. Trent, over on his side of the table, his pile of coffee mugs growing ever larger, is hunched over his laptop, typing furiously. Ted blinks, trying to keep himself awake as he watches Trent. There’s just one thing that’s been bugging him.
“Why do you care? You’ve been doing all this work just for little old me?”
Trent startles, like he’d forgotten that Ted and Beard were even there. “What?” He blinks, shaking his head and moving his laptop to the side, barely avoiding the stack of mugs. Ted can feel Beard perk up beside him, still pretending to look at his phone.
“You’re helping me.” Ted tilts his head. “I may be corn-fed, but I’m not stupid. Not very evil journalist of you.” Beard, beside him, nods.
Trent seems to debate something for a moment, eyeing Beard before he leans over the table, folding his arms and dropping his head so he’s almost nose to nose with Ted. “Do you think you’re not worth helping, Ted?”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I’ll answer yours if you answer mine.” Trent almost smirks.
“Deal.” Ted snorts. “There are lots of people that need help more than I do.”
“Then I guess, I’m tired of being the evil journo.” Ted feels pierced by his eyes. “I want to help because I don’t think you deserve this, and because it’s shit to use someone’s dynamic against them like this.” Trent tilts his head down. “Do I pass muster?”
Beard chuckles.
“I suppose it’ll do.” Ted says as he feels his face grow hot.
Ted is hit, as he always is, with the stink of Alpha as he walks into the locker room. He loiters at the board, flipping an expo marker in his hands, eyeing some of the plays Beard has written up. The room quiets, at first slowly, and then all at once as Isaac starts elbowing people to shut up.
Ted clears his throat, looking over to where Beard is hanging out at the door to the office. He claps his hands and steps forward. Every eye in the room is on him. He knows these people, cares for them, he hopes they care for him. It’s time to trust that it will be ok.
“I’m sure you’ve all read the article by now—” One of the boys puts up his hand, “—or listened to it, as the case may be.” The hand goes back down. “And I’m sure you have questions. But I assure you I am the same—”
“Yeah, bruv, we know.” Isaac pipes up. “Tolerance and shit.”
“Oh.” Ted is not even sure why he’s surprised. He’s worked so hard for this. “Ok, well I had a big speech planned but we can just get back to practice I guess?”
“Eh, just one thing.” Roy cocks his head as he says, “Why now?”
The rest of the room perks up.
Ted feels a pang in his chest, like someone has dug claws into his heart. He smiles, trying to keep it off his face. “Guess I just felt like it was the right time.” Roy narrows his eyes at him, but Ted just waves him off. “Go on, the longer we dilly dally, the more laps Coach Beard is gonna make us run.”
“That’s it. It’s sent.” Trent says quietly, pressing a button on his laptop.
“No turning back now.” Ted rubs his hands shakily though his hair. “It’s done.”
“Mhm.” Trent nods. “Tomorrow is going to be a hard day.”
“It is.”
Ted stares around the corner at the throng of people crowding the exit of the clubhouse, all armed with cameras and a shark-like devotion to fucking over his life as much as possible.
“Not that way, Ted.” Beard says, steering him down towards the field. “We’re taking the back way out from now on.”
“I take it we won’t be walking home for a little while?”
“I think not.” Beard leads them to a rusted door tucked away in the corner of the stadium. When he knocks, a crypt-keeper-like man opens the door.
“Did I… know this was here?”
“Did you happen to get a copy of the blueprints of the building and all surrounding sewer systems when you started working here?”
“I did not.” Ted has to laugh.
“Then no, probably not.”
Ted hums and follows Beard and the crypt keeper through the darkness. When they emerge, it is dark, everything lit by lamplight. Beard faithfully leads him into a car and through the street. They finally stop in front of an unfamiliar apartment. When Ted frowns in confusion, Beard just smirks.
“They gave us two separate apartments.” Beard shrugs and lets them in. Unlike his apartment, Beard has clearly been here before, or, Ted looks closely around at the place, Beard has spent a lot of time today moving stuff into this place.
“Thank you, Beard.” Ted sighs, pulling Beard into a tight hug and finally feeling like he’s landed on solid ground.