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not all those who wander (are lost)

Summary:

“Michelle?” His eyes are sleep gritty and his voice is underused, but his brain is already running at a hundred miles an hour.

“What’s happened? Are you alright? Is Henry okay?”

“Ted,” the croaked and terrified voice of his ex-wife has bile instantly rising in his throat. “I don't know, I don't know where Henry is."

The world narrows down to a pinpoint.

Michelle doesn’t know where Henry is.

His baby is missing.

Notes:

this fic is dedicated to nikki, who asked me all the way back in september when we were walking through richmond if i had a new fic for her. i said 'it will be ready in two weeks!' reader, it has been more than two weeks.

also, to dee, who was the best beta in the whole entire world. a kiss and all my love to you.

and to julia, who was the subject of many voicenotes about this fic. i love you!

i'd love to know if i've hit the mark ok on this fic; constructive (but kind) criticism is always appreciated!

Work Text:

There are three people Ted allows past the ‘do not disturb’ settings on his phone: Michelle (for obvious reasons), Rebecca (again, obviously) and his mother. 

When the artificial, too loud ring of his phone breaks through the dark cocoon of their bedroom at 3am on a late Tuesday night/early Wednesday morning, Ted wakes to a shard of panic lodging in his chest.

Gratified only by the physical presence of Rebecca whose back he’d been wrapped around, he breaks out into a cold sweat when he untangles himself from her in a rush, rolling over to his bedside table to grab his phone, catching sight of the caller ID. 

“Michelle?” His eyes are sleep gritty and his voice is underused, but his brain is already running at a hundred miles an hour.

“What’s happened? Are you alright? Is Henry okay?” He feels rather than sees Rebecca wake next to him, sitting up and flicking a light on. When he glances at her, he sees her own features awash with the same kind of fear he feels leap up his throat. Hot, sticky and all consuming.

“Ted,” the croaked and terrified voice of his ex-wife has bile instantly rising in his throat. “I don't know, I don't know where Henry is,” she hiccups into the phone, her voice thick with tears.

The world narrows down to a pinpoint. 

Dread, pure and unadulterated, floods his system.

Michelle doesn’t know where Henry is.

His baby is missing.

“We had an argument last night,” Michelle sobs down the line. “I thought things were settled, I thought we were okay. I watched him get on the school bus this morning,” she trails off, more hiccupping sobs interrupting her. Ted does his best to focus, to hear what she’s saying, but the ringing in his ears feels impossibly loud, and the horrible truth that his son is nowhere to be found encompasses all else. The nausea roils in his gut so viciously he half wonders if he may be sick.

“But when I got home he wasn’t here and I've been calling and searching and ringing around for ages but I -“ Michelle finally breaks off then, falling into desperate sobs, the sound echoing sharply in his own chest. Ted tries his best to breathe, but it sounds choppy even to his own ears. Doing his best to keep his panic at bay, he instead reaches blindly for Rebecca’s hand. He doesn't have the time, or the capacity, to even begin to convey to her what’s going on, but she’s a smart woman. Probably the smartest he knows, in fact. She’ll have put two and two together from his reaction, from Michelle’s violent noise down the line.

In the more rational part of his brain, the one that’s still switched on and thinking, Ted’s torn between panic and frustration: Kansas is six hours behind them, it’s 9pm there. At fourteen, Henry is old enough to spend an evening by himself at home until Michelle gets back from any slightly later shifts at the hospital, but she still keeps to relatively reasonable hours. She was probably back around six. Why didn’t she call him then ? He was asleep in bed, blissfully unaware that his son had disappeared off the face of the earth whilst she ran herself ragged half the world away. 

Rebecca gently extricates the phone from where it’s been pressed against his ear, untangling their hands only so she can press firmly between his shoulder blades in an attempt to ground him to their room, to help keep him as present as possible. 

“Michelle? It's Rebecca. I've just turned on speakerphone so we can all be kept in the loop.” 

She is clear and concise, clearly emptying her mind of any further thought and focussing on the goal of finding their son. Ted’s seen her do this before. During stressful transfer negotiations when time is particularly tight; the time her mother was stranded, somehow without a working credit card, at a hotel in the Via Alpina; when everyone had lost sight of Phoebe during an early supper at the Crown and Anchor for a moment or two, only to discover that she’d ducked behind the bar to raid Mae’s stash of salt and vinegar crisps.

He’s never been more grateful for it now.

He tries to focus on the feel of her hand between his shoulder blades, taking deep breaths in a vain attempt to slow the racing of his heart and mind. 

“Tell us where you’ve looked,” Rebecca instructs, all focus. 

“His room, Max and Ledger’s house,” - two of Henry's closest friends - “the school, the soccer field, the local restaurants, Ted’s mom’s, he’s not anywhere .” Her voice breaks on that last word, descending into sobs again. Ted half wishes he was there with her and is half grateful that he’s not. He wants to pull Michelle into his arms, give the mother of his child some kind of comfort, but he can barely feel his own hands. 

“Okay,” Rebecca says, assessing. “Go back up to his room, I know it’s hard but try to look as carefully as you can. Maybe he left some kind of note somewhere?” She sounds a little desperate, some of her own panic seeping through, but it’s a sensible enough assumption to make. Henry's a smart boy, and a sensible one. Chances are, if he and Michelle fought, he’s just gone somewhere to cool down, and the worst hasn’t happened. 

“Okay, yes,” Michelle's voice crackles through, accompanied by the muffled sound of her running up the stairs and into Henry's room. It’s quiet beyond the sounds of her frantically ransacking his room, her grunts of frustration evident at coming up empty. 

“There's nothing. There’s nothing Rebecca, I don’t - wait.” There’s another pause, followed by a relieved sob that breaks through the phone. “He left a note. Thank god, he left a note.”

Hope breaks through the wall of panic, bright and treacherous. Ted pulls Rebecca's hand holding his phone closer to his face, fruitless as the gesture is. Her free hand moves from his back to around his waist, keeping him grounded, pulling him firmly against her. 

“What does it say, Michelle?”

She sends through a picture of the answer quickly:

Gone home. Don’t bother calling, I won’t answer. H

The only other place Henry calls home is Richmond, so that means -

“Michelle, check your bank account.” Ted says, dread washing the hope away in a hot rush, coiling its way sharply through his stomach. 

His mind floods with a medley of images, ones that may be close to an exact reality taking place. Henry, somehow managing to get to the airport, catching a flight and another connecting one to get him to Heathrow. Encountering strangers who could so easily do anything to him, who could snatch him up and take him away. Henry getting lost on a tube or a bus on his way back to Richmond. The plane going down, his baby trapped all alone and scared out of his mind. The possibilities for disaster, the threat to his safety, are endless.

“Oh my god,” Michelle's voice is a whisper of nothing. Ted can hear her running around the house, probably to find her laptop and boot it up. Beside him, Rebecca has opened her own phone. He sits useless on the bed, the only one not doing anything, paralysed by a fear he’s never known the likes of before, doing his best not to collapse into a full blown state of panic.

She holds it out to him not ten seconds later, a message from her pilot across the screen. Ted holds her wrist to keep the phone still. 

Ms. Welton, we’ve received a message request from Henry Lasso asking if we could fly him from Kansas to London this evening. We weren’t aware of any pre-arranged flights, however, he informed us that there was a family emergency. We wanted to get the go ahead from yourself before we pick him up, in case you’ve made other arrangements. Looking forward to hearing from you.

Henry has the pilot’s details stored in his phone for emergencies, for just in case scenarios. Whatever his argument with Michelle was about, Rebecca assumes this was one of those occasions. 

“Michelle, he’s on a plane. He's gotta be. I don't know how he’s done it, but I think he’s on a plane here.” Ted feels his voice come out clearly for the first time since Michelle called. 

“Yes,” Michelle confirms, more focus than frantic herself now. “The details, they’re right here on my laptop. It left a few hours ago. He's in the sky. God, Ted, our baby’s up there on his own.” 

Ted has always prided himself on being someone who knows the right thing to say in a bad moment, as someone who’s always able to offer a comforting presence, a helping hand, when someone is having a tough time. Faced with one of the most paralysing moments of his entire life, he can do nothing other than shut his eyes against the tears that leap there, to shakily breathe through the violent rhythm his heart is hammering inside his chest. He has no clue what to say to Michelle, or how to comfort her. How can he? How did this even happen?

“Send me the flight details,” Rebecca tells her, already typing away on her phone, looking through contacts and emails for who best to get in touch with. When her phone pings with a message from Michelle a few seconds later, she hops out of bed, her phone pressed to her ear, pressing a firm kiss to the top of Ted's head and squeezing his shoulder before rushing out of the room. 

“Rebecca’s makin’ some calls,” Ted croaks to Michelle a little uselessly, once his voice comes back to him. “If anyone can track a kid down in the air, it will be her.”

There’s quiet, then. Ted feels his heartbeat return to a semi normal rate, but the shimmer of anxiety still hovers menacingly in the distance. He has to believe what he’s just said. He has to believe in Rebecca’s ability. He has to. He has no other choice, until they know exactly what’s going on. 

“Will you tell me once you know anything?” Michelle sniffles into the receiver. 

“God, of course. Of course, Michelle.” Ted reassures her. He’s the only one who knows just how awful she must feel right now, no way he’d dream of doing anything other than keeping her in the loop. 

“I just,” he looks around the room helplessly, still lost as to why Henry would take such drastic, dramatic action. What could have happened for their normally sweet, easy-going boy to have done something like this?

“What would cause him to up and leave like this? This ain’t like our boy, ‘Chelle.” 

Like all children, Henry’s had his fair share of moments, of scraps with other kids, of episodes where he’s acted out some, but Ted would never have imagined in a million years that he would do something so reckless, so out of character.

“Last night, we uh-“ Michelle clears her throat after a moment of quiet. “Doctor Jacob came up in conversation. Henry brought him up.”

Ted sighs, unable to stop the sound.

Of all the things to come up whilst his only child is missing, this is at the very bottom of the list of other topics he wants to deal with.

He’s moved on from the whole Doctor Jacob incident, truly. It was a long time ago. Michelle had apologised profusely for how their relationship could have affected Ted, and he’s talked it through enough with his therapist.

But he can’t deny that it still smarts, still sometimes makes him feel uneasy, that Michelle took up with the person who was therapising them both, particularly so fresh off of their divorce. 

Sharon has assured him, on more than one occasion, that he’s allowed to feel like this. It’s okay that he feels betrayed to some extent by both of them, even though nothing happened until after they’d split. It's natural to wonder when it began, if feelings had developed before he and Michelle had split, and if any of that contributed to her pushing him to take the job at Richmond and their eventual divorce. Even if he never actually gets a proper answer. 

He doesn’t want one, anyway. After all, would that be conducive to his mental health? To anything, really? Ted certainly thinks not. 

Rebecca had been incensed when she’d told him, all righteously indignant and pissed off on his behalf. At the time, Ted hadn’t had the energy to feel anything other than a quiet kind of shock, the type that goes so deep you continue about your daily life as if everything is normal, until the smallest thing going wrong (in Ted’s case, it had been a few weeks later when his favourite mug had fallen off his desk and cracked) is the trip switch for the mother of all breakdowns.

Seeing Rebecca’s indignance, though, her clear compassion from one betrayed ex-partner to another; how she’d tucked her rage and whatever plans she may have had to report (or, knowing her, organise some kind of hit on) Doctor Jacob for infringing on his own ethics. The way she’d stopped and sat down next to him, held one of his hands so gently between her own, had looked at him with nothing but earnestness in her expression, uttering a quiet “Are you okay, Ted? Is there anything I can do to help?” had lodged squarely in his heart.

That wasn’t the beginning of the two of them. That had started long before: when, after a season of disconnect and distraction, Rebecca had shown up at his front door a day or so after his return flight from Kansas. She’d looked a little nervous and a lot determined, balancing pizza boxes and a bottle of wine in her hands, before she told him rather frankly that:

“A wise person once told me, that if you cared about someone and had a little love in your heart, there wasn’t anything you couldn’t get through together. So tell me what the fuck has been going on with you, Ted, because I’ll be damned if you didn’t turn my life around only for me to lose you.” 

They’d been very much on similar paths after that, two that would eventually converge, leading them both to one very particular destination. 

They still hadn’t quite reached it, that afternoon talking about Doctor Jacob in Rebecca’s office, still hadn’t quite crossed the finish line, but that was okay. It had been a moment, for both of them, a significant one. A moment of clarity that, even when things were tough, even when things weren’t perfect, they’d still be them. They’d still be okay.

“Michelle,” Ted sighs a little into the phone, feeling a different pull of exhaustion entirely tugging at each and every one of his senses.

“I’m sorry, Ted. I didn’t want to lie to him.”

“No, no, I get that.” He runs a hand over his face. He can’t believe, on top of everything that’s happening, he’s having to pick at an old wound like this. “Just tell me what happened.”

“He, uh,” Michelle clears her throat. “Asked how we’d met. He’s been studying family structures in his Health class. I think he wanted to understand a little more about what happened after we first split.”

Ted can understand the curiosity. Even though his and Michelle’s split was as amiable as it could have been, it’s natural for any child to wonder what the circumstances were that led up to it, especially as Henry had been so young when it had happened. 

“So I, uh, I mentioned that we’d been to therapy - not going into any specifics, obviously, just that it had happened.” 

Although he can see exactly where this is going, Ted understands Michelle’s logic. For obvious reasons, and especially since he started getting therapy rather than burying his emotions in false positivity and alcohol, Ted is a huge proponent of Henry understanding and being in touch with his emotions. To her credit, Michelle has always been a huge supporter of it, too. Henry knows that both of them go to therapy, and they’re both as honest as is appropriate about communicating when they’re having tough days or going through a rough patch to him.

Ted likes to think - sure hopes - that they’re setting a good example, letting Henry know that it’s healthy to look after yourself mentally as much as it is physically.

Given what’s happened though, he wonders how successful they’ve been.

“I guess you told him he used to be our therapist.” Ted sighs out, beating Michelle to it.

“I’m so sorry, Ted.” Even from an ocean away, he can hear the guilt, as well as the genuine remorse, lacing each and every word, can practically feel the way her cheeks must be overheated with shame and embarrassment. “It was so inappropriate of me to tell him that; I wasn’t thinking clearly at all.”

“He got so upset,” she starts to cry again, even as she keeps talking. Shutting his eyes against his own swell of emotion, now Ted completely wishes he was there with her, or that someone was, just to give her an ounce of physical comfort.

“He said it was my fault that we’d split, that our family had to live an ocean apart. He said he felt like such an idiot, for being upset with you and Rebecca all those summers ago. He said that he was so mad at me and he never wanted to see me again. He said that I, that I’d chea-” she breaks off then, the weight of everything clearly overwhelming her.

“God, Michelle,” Ted breathes down the line.

She’s absolutely right. She shouldn’t have told Henry how she and Doctor Jacob had met, particularly given how it was such ancient history at this point. He can’t blame Henry for being so confused and upset, learning something that would have obviously shocked him to his core. He also aches for Michelle to have been stung like that, because as much as Henry was feeling awful, none of the barbs that he’d thrown at his mother were remotely true. 

He also understands how badly it hurts when your child is upset with you, when they don’t want you for comfort when it’s the only thing you can offer. When you’re the source of their pain.

“He shouldn’t have said any o’that to you,” Ted soothes down the line once she’s calmed a little.

“I dunno,” Michelle chuckles mirthlessly, still sniffling rather a lot. “Feels like I deserve it.”

“Michelle, c’mon,” Ted sighs. He wants to have the patience for this conversation, truly he does, but everything feels raw and sharp around the edges and adrenaline still courses through his system. He takes a deep breath. In through his nose, slowly out through his mouth. 

“It was a long time ago,” he reassures. “You didn’t do anythin’ wrong, even at the time. And we’ve both moved on, we’re both in better places.”

Michelle’s quiet for a moment too. Ted wonders if she’s doing her own version of 4-7-8 breathing, doing her best to self soothe.

“Still wasn’t my smartest decision in the world,” she concedes.

Of course, she can’t see, but Ted musters half a smile for her anyway.

“Alright, I’ll let you have that one.”

Michelle huffs a half laugh in response, and Ted’s smile grows in turn.

“Ted?” She pipes up again after another moment of quiet.

“Mm?”

“What if we don’t find him?” Michelle’s voice is small, like she can’t fully face what it would be like - the awful reality of not being able to locate their child.

“We will, Michelle.” Ted tells her, his tone brokering no room for argument. He cannot, will not entertain any other possibility until Rebecca’s finished making her calls.

They will find him.

They have to.

“Even if Rebecca can’t get to him, I’ll steal her fancy jet myself and grab him from the sky,” he tries the joke on for size. It’s weak and it doesn’t quite fit, but Michelle laughs all the same.

“I know you will. You’re his dad, the best there is.”

“And you’re the best mama,” Ted tells her tenderly. He now knows with such certainty that he and Michelle would have never worked out forever in any universe; they simply weren’t meant to be. He is, however, unbelievably grateful that she is the mother of his son. She would move heaven and earth for Henry, regardless of the cost.

“Thanks, Ted,” Michelle’s voice is still a little wobbly through the phone. He can tell she doesn’t quite believe him, especially given what’s happened, but there isn’t much more he can say at this point.

“Try and rest,” Ted instructs. “See if Kennedy from work or somebody else is free to come over? I don’t like the thought of you bein’ totally alone.”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll do somethin’, find a way of distractin’ myself for a bit,” she agrees. “I’ll be up until we know he’s safe, though.”

“‘Course,” Ted says. “I’ll get the little guy to give you a call when we’ve got him and talked things through.”

There’s a brief pause before their goodbye, awkward and loaded with the weight of what’s to come, the unspoken fear of what will happen if they don’t find Henry, before the line connecting Ted and Michelle goes dead and Ted is left in the cool darkness of his and Rebecca’s bedroom.

He wastes no time once the phone call is over, getting out of bed and following the sound of Rebecca's voice down the hall and through to the study. The sun is beginning to bleed through into the night, and he blearily realises upon his watch that time has suddenly jumped from 3am to 4:30. 

“Okay, great. Thank you,” Rebecca is just finishing up as he pads through. She spots him, holding an arm out for him. He gratefully curls into the space between her arm and her body, sagging against her slightly, exhaustion washing over him. 

“He’s on the flight, he’s fine,” she tells him as soon as she’s hung up. Phone discarded, her other arm comes about him then, both of them tightening as Ted feels his knees buckle, finally letting everything he’s been holding in a wall of tightness in his chest since Michelle called break free, sobbing against her pyjama shirt. 

He’s safe. He’s alright. The knowledge rings through Ted’s body, clear as a bell. 

He’s got no idea how Henry managed to get onto a flight, what with being an unaccompanied minor. He’s got no doubt that British Airways will be getting the mother of all complaints, alongside a lawsuit, if Rebecca has anything to do with it. Rather than focus on that, though, he lets the all consuming relief that his son is (relatively) safe wash over him. 

It won't be long before he gets to hold Henry in his arms, be able to reassure himself that his son really is alright. For now, Rebecca holds him tight, pressing a kiss to his hair and murmuring sweet nothings against him as she rocks them both a little and lets him cry it out.

Ted calms after a while, pulling his face from her neck and cupping her face in his and pressing his lips to hers. When they pull apart, he rests his forehead against hers, taking a moment to ground them both. 

“Rebecca, I can’t even begin to thank you for what you’ve-“ he’s stopped only by her fingers against his mouth. 

“Ted,” her voice shakes a little. It’s only then that he can see the fear in her own eyes, coming out to play, now that all the practicalities of locating Henry have been sorted. “I was worried about him, too. I am worried about him. I'm so glad we’ve found him.” She pulls him into another hug.

“I know you are, baby,” Ted says against her temple, pressing a kiss to it, tightening his arms around her. “I’m sorry, Rebecca, I didn’ mean to imply-” he chokes off, feeling not for the first time this early morning just how unhelpful he’s being, just how little tact he possesses.

“Ted,” Rebecca pulls out of the hug so she can look at him properly, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s alright; it’s all alright.”

He sags a little, exhaustion still heavy against his shoulders. Rebecca cups his face tenderly, rubbing a thumb against his cheek. Ted’s eyes flutter shut.

“What time does his flight get in?” He mumbles against the soothing motion.

“Around eight.”

Ted grunts a little in recognition, forcing his eyes to open, lifting his wrist to check the time on his watch. Now it’s nearer to 5am than 4.30. A text from Michelle asking for an update also blinks up at him. He figured she wouldn’t be able to find a suitable distraction. He knows he’d be much the same.

Rebecca drops her hand from his face, giving his upper arm a squeeze before she lets go completely.

“I can start the coffee and call Michelle, if you want to shower first?” She suggests. 

Ted feels a particular kind of tenderness sweep through him at her suggestion: she knows that neither of them will be able to go back to sleep, so she’s taking care of him in the best way she knows how. She’s already done so much - has quite literally located his son from the middle of nowhere, has made sure they all know he’s safe, has achieved the impossible. Yet here she is still, looking so sweetly and earnestly at him, offering him another bit of grace, an extra chance to collect himself and let the reality of Henry’s safety sink in. He loves her so much, is so endlessly grateful to her for everything she’s done for him, but especially this, that it echoes and aches through his body.

He’s therefore unable to resist the urge, to pull her back into his arms, to hold her close, for just a moment longer. To try to show just how grateful he is for her. Just how much he loves her. How it beats through his chest to the same rhythm as his heart, each and every single day. 

Now isn’t the time for declarations, though. They really do need to update Michelle on what’s going on. They both need to freshen up in the shower and caffeinate so that they’re ready as quickly as possible to leave for the airport, even though they’ll be unnecessarily early. So for now, Ted tugs her even closer, his heart twisting beautifully when she relaxes against him, her own arms sliding around his back. 

“Thank you, darlin’,” he mumbles quietly into her hair from where her head is tucked into his neck. Rebecca squeezes him softly in recognition. Ted feels the muted press of a kiss through his t-shirt to his shoulder.

They stay like that for a beat, then two, fortifying themselves with each other before it’s time to break apart and refocus.

“Come on, my good man,” Rebecca gives him a tired smile, threaded with exhaustion and her leftover worry, giving his shoulders one last squeeze. “Not long until we can get our boy.”


Heathrow airport is mercifully quiet this early on a Wednesday morning. Henry had at least, Ted can admit, the presence of mind to make sure his flight got in at the airport closest to his second home, as well as at a time that would mean none of the Welton-Lasso family would end up being papped and subsequently splashed about the Daily Mail the next morning.

Not that Rebecca would allow that to happen, anyway.

She’s been a pillar of strength all morning. Locating Henry; calling them both out of work for the day and Ted for the rest of the week; letting Beard know the situation whilst Ted was still finding his feet after Michelle’s phone call; and now finishing up her conversation with their liaison from British Airways - undoubtedly securing all the information she needs to relay to her lawyer for later. She is professional and courteous to the employee behind the nearby desk, undoubtedly knowing that the situation wasn’t of their personal making, but Ted doesn’t miss the cold flicker of fury behind her eyes, the sharpness of her posture. Despite the horrendous circumstances, despite the anxiety and the confusion and the unbearable worry he’s gone through, he feels both more than an ounce of pride and attraction towards his partner whilst he watches her.

Shaking himself a little, he re-focuses on the arrivals gate, the slow trickle of people traipsing through. His heart resituates itself in his throat

“Attendant says it should be any minute now,” Rebecca’s low murmur greets his ear, her hand sliding along the small of his back, apparently having finished up her conversation. When he turns his head to meet her gaze, the quiet confidence in her eyes, the way she crinkles them at him in reassurance, sets his heart at ease, even if only marginally.

Then, as if she’s conjured him herself, Rebecca’s eye is caught by something, or rather, someone, heading through the arrivals gate.

“Ted,” she barely has to say the word before he’s turned, moving away from her only so that he can run towards his son, dropping to his knees once he reaches him in utter relief.

“Dad!” A teary, clearly sleep deprived and completely rumpled Henry Lasso collapses into his arms. The attendant that had been walking with him steps courteously to one side, presumably heading towards Rebecca. 

For the second time in less than eight hours, Ted finds himself unable to breathe.

He’ll take the all consuming, bone crushing relief of his son, real and solid in his arms, to the utterly chilling call Michelle had sprung on him any day of the week.

“Henry,” Ted chokes out against his hair, breathing in the scent of him - the body spray he insists on wearing that Ted thinks is far too grown up for a fourteen year old, his vanilla scented shampoo, the unmistakable smell of plane - all of it is such a blessed relief. His throat tightens and his heart throbs with how tightly Henry holds onto him, his tears soaking through the fabric of his jumper and shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy, I’m so sorry I worried you,” Henry sobs against him. Ted is so glad, so immensely and utterly grateful - to the air hostesses, to the universe, to Rebecca - that his son is safely here, in the UK, in his arms, at this point he cannot find even the tiniest portion of himself that’s angry.

“It’s alright, it’s ok, buddy, I’m just so glad you’re safe,” Ted tells him, one hand coming up to cup the back of his head. Henry relaxes a fraction more in his hold. Ted tries to pull back to take a look at him, but when he does Henry’s arms tighten further around his neck, burrowing his face further into his neck.

Really, Ted wants to get a good look at him. To see his sweet face and take him in properly, but instead he lets Henry cling as tightly as he likes, for as long as he likes, relishing in the reality of having his son in his arms rather than living through any of the other ghoulish nightmares his panic-addled brain had drawn up for him since Michelle’s call.

When he’s finally able to loosen Henry’s arms enough from around his neck, Ted pulls back to take him in. His cheeks are ruddy with emotion, his eyes shiny with tears and exhaustion, his hair is messy, flopping all into his face. He looks so young - as young as he’d been when Ted first moved to the UK - so frightened, that it pulls at Ted sharply. He cups his jaw, running a thumb over the pink of his cheek, wiping fruitlessly at the residual tears that still trail down his face.

“You’re alright? They looked after you okay on the plane?”

“Yeah,” Henry nods, leaning in a little to Ted’s touch. “They moved me into the fancy class when Rebecca called.” He glances over to his stepmother. When Ted turns to mimic him, he catches Rebecca deep in conversation with the flight attendant. The young woman looks suitably nervous, as she well should, but she’s willfully talking to Rebecca, who’s noting down everything she’s saying on her phone. Ted knows what she’s doing. She already has all the information she needs for whatever kind of action she’ll be taking against the airway: so, she’s giving him and Henry a moment alone together. His heart clenches anew at her thoughtfulness.

“Is she mad? Are you mad?” The nervous quiver of Henry’s voice pulls him back around. 

Ted sighs, loosening his hold on Henry enough to run his hands up and down his arms, squeezing a little around his shoulders.

“We were both incredibly, ridiculously worried, Hen.” He can’t lie, not about something like this, but there’s equally no point in starting what is bound to be a heavy and lengthy conversation in the middle of an airport. “You just left and ran across the world with only a note left behind. Do you understand how scary that was for me? For Mom? For Rebecca?”

Henry nods, his bottom lip wobbling, more tears spilling over that he wipes at fruitlessly with the cuff of his hoodie.

“Daddy, I’m so sorry,” he repeats. Ted’s heart throbs as much as it leaps at hearing that particular name; Henry hasn’t called him it in so long.

“I just had to get away,” Henry continues. “I had to come and see you.”

Ted is on the cusp of asking - the question of why right on the tip of his tongue - when the moment is broken by Rebecca stepping over.

“Hello, darling boy,” she says, all soothing tones and gentle smiles, reaching out to cup Henry’s cheek tenderly, clearly not wanting to break the semi-embrace he and Ted are still in. 

“Becca,” Henry croaks, launching himself out of Ted’s half hold and into her arms. She almost wobbles a little from the force of him, but stands strong, curling her arms around Henry’s shaking frame. His sobs begin anew, muffled only from where his face is buried against her. 

As Ted rises to his feet, his knees protesting and creaking after being knelt on the cold airport floor for so long, Rebecca gives him rather a slightly panicked look. She keeps her arms wrapped firmly around Henry though, doing her best to soothe him. She holds him close, running a hand up and down his back, keeping her head bent and close to his own whilst the muffled sounds of I’m sorry, I’m so sorry and please don’t hate me and thank you are muffled into her coat. 

Ted knows the signs of an overtired, overstimulated child like the back of his hand. Given his dramatic exit from the US and even more dramatic arrival into the UK, along with whatever else is going on in his head, Henry must be beyond the brink of exhaustion.

He steps closer to them, to Henry and Rebecca, pressing a firm hand between Henry’s shoulder blades, hoping to ground him and calm him some. They give him a few minutes after a brief conversation via eyebrow raises and meaningful looks, letting him get through the worst of it, before he finally slumps more fully against Rebecca’s side, apparently wrung out.

“Okay, darling, it’s alright,” Rebecca moves them both, impossibly gently, so that Henry’s tucked into her side and they can start to walk. “We’re all sorted now, alright? The car’s waiting outside, so let’s go home.”


The car ride home is steeped with exhaustion.

Henry slumps between them, leaning heavily against Ted’s side, giving both he and Rebecca cursory answers about his journey: he got to the airport by an Uber; he think his height is why no one on the plane questioned his being alone; the food sucked until they moved him up to first class; he hasn’t slept since he boarded the plane.

He doesn’t budge, beyond a concise explanation of a fight, as to why he even ran away from Michelle’s to begin with

Now that all the excitement and panic is starting to die down, Ted only feels exhaustion, thick as molasses, slugging its way through his body, pressing against his temples. He desperately wants to hear Henry’s side of the story, to understand what conclusions he’d leapt to that had caused him to run away to the other side of the world, but one look at his tired little face, one glance at Rebecca, who’s doing a valiant job of looking more awake than Ted knows she feels, is enough to let him know that they all need some proper rest before whatever discussion takes place.

“Alright,” he sighs, rubbing a face over his hand tiredly, after Henry’s last monosyllabic response. “When we get home, we’re all gonna go have some rest, okay? No alarms, no designated time to wake up, nothin’. But once we all feel a bit more human, we gotta sit down and figure out what’s goin’ on, okay?” He injects only the smallest amount of force into his voice, just to let Henry know that what he’s said isn’t actually a suggestion, and certainly isn’t up for discussion. 

“Okay,” Henry nods, his lip wobbling, tucking his chin further into his hoodie, disappearing a little inside himself.

“Sweet boy,” Rebecca soothes, reaching out to run a hand over his hair, down his face to cup his jaw. “We just want to know what’s going on, we’ve been so worried about you.” She explains, giving him a tender smile when he chances a glance up at her.

“I’m sorry.” Much to their mild horror, Henry’s face crumples again. He wipes fiercely at his eyes, his hand fisted in the sleeve of his hoodie. “I’m so sorry for makin’ you both so worried. I just wanted to get away, I needed to come home.” His voice wobbles around the words and he ducks his head as if to hide the unexpected force of emotion that’s writ all over his face, perhaps thinking - or hoping - that he’d cried himself out at the airport.

“Oh baby,” Ted’s heart breaks anew, tears gathering in an instant at his son’s distress, at how off kilter and out of sorts he seems, tugging him against his side and pressing a kiss to the crown of his hair. “We’re so glad, so so glad you’re here and that you’re safe. Like Becca said, we just wanna make sure you’re okay, and we know this ain’t like you. So we need to sit down and see what’s goin’ on. Does that make sense?” He lifts Henry’s chin with the tip of one finger. His eyes raise to meet his, the glassy brown a mirror of his own. When he sees his son nod in recognition, the inch of relief Ted is gifted with feels like a blessing.

“Not until we’ve had a sleep though,” Henry echoes his earlier sentiments, breathing out a long sigh, his eyes fluttering shut and his head resting against Ted’s chest, the weight of it solid and comforting and real. With his right hand, he reaches out to hold on to one of Rebecca’s, like he needs the connection of both of them to finally rest.

When he catches her gaze, Ted sees a mix of emotions on his partner’s face. Emotions that, (as much as he would love to right now, so that he can be there for her properly), they’ll need to unpack at a later date. For now, he untucks his arm from around Henry, just briefly, so that he can reach a hand out to cover where his son’s are clasped in both of hers, hoping to convey all his gratitude and love for her in the simple gesture, as the Rolls keeps speeding down the motorway and in the direction of home.


When Ted wakes, it’s after a solid five hour nap, the clock on his bedside table now reading well into the afternoon. He groans, shifting and turning, and is greeted with the sight of Rebecca’s underwear clad hip when he rolls over onto his side.

“Hello,” she smiles down at him from where she’s propped up against the headboard and scrolling through her phone, reaching down to run a hand through his hair, scratching a little at his scalp.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Ted mumbles, scooching forward to wrap an arm around the inside of her thigh, pressing a kiss to the jut of her hip. 

“I believe you saw me only a few hours ago before we collapsed into bed, my love,” Rebecca huffs, running an affectionate thumb over the shell of his ear.

“Still the best sight in the world to wake up to,” he counters, pressing a deliberate kiss to the curve of her behind, the part that has faded stretch marks on, the ones she’ll sometimes catch sight of in the mirror and comment on. The ones that Ted particularly loves.

“How are you feeling?” Rebecca continues her gentle motions, passing a gentle hand through his hair in swirling patterns, the repetitive motion enough to cause Ted’s eyes to flutter.

“Better,” he confirms, finally willing his body to move and disentangle himself from her, sitting up against the headboard. “Much better, now that he’s here.”

She hums her agreement, locking her phone and setting it gently on her bedside table. She tucks herself into his side, resting her head against his shoulder. Their fingers tangle and their hands rest against Ted’s thigh.

“I know we’ve slept for a lot of it, but this day feels never ending,” she sighs out.

Ted huffs a laugh, a fairly humourless thing.

“When he was on his way, and then when he was born, and then as he was growin’ up, I read every book about parenting I could get my hands on,” he muses. He focuses on how his and Rebecca’s hands are tucked together, the way her thumb rubs against the backs of his fingers, against his knuckles. “I wanted to do right by him. Do the best I could. Give him what my folks couldn’t give me.”

Rebecca hums, pressing a kiss over his heart, understanding what he’s saying without saying it. 

Naturally, Ted worries about a lot of things. Unquestionably, the one person at the top of his list of worries will forever be his son. The worry of if he’s doing enough by parenting him across an ocean; if he’s gotten to school okay; when they’ll next get a chance to play video games together will be; if he’ll want to keep up with the football club he plays in every summer he spends in Richmond; whether he’s well, whether he’s safe. 

“Nothin’ in the world could have prepared me for this, though.” The guilt yawns, and Ted’s head thunks back against the soft headboard behind him.

“Darling,” Rebecca sits up more fully, gently turning his face to meet hers, her gaze serious. “ Nothing you have done, or could have done, has caused Henry to do this. Remember what you did to spend your prom night in jail? Being a teenager is a fucking minefield. That poor boy heard something that probably rocked him to his core, and ran away to a place he felt safe. He came home to you . That is what matters, Ted. He came home.” She smiles, cupping his cheek, squeezing gently. 

“To us,” Ted corrects her, covering her hand with his own.

Rebecca’s brow furrows.

“He came home to us, honey. I know you haven’t missed how he’s been clinging to ya like a little barnacle since he saw you. He wanted to see you as much as he wanted to see me.” He crinkles his eyes at her, a smile tugging at his mouth despite everything. 

She blushes under the weight of his praise, under the weight of the truth. Her lips roll between her teeth, trying to hide her smile, like she thinks she shouldn’t be so pleased to have her role as his stepmother so affirmed when the circumstances are as dire as they are.

Before Ted can say anything else, though, their quiet moment is broken by the sound of a cabinet door shutting none too quietly from the kitchen. They both, rather pointlessly, glance towards the closed bedroom door.

“Guess he’s up,” Rebecca murmurs.

“S’pose he is,” Ted agrees.

“He’s got to be looking for a snack.”

“Oh, you bet.”

“I do bet,” Rebecca hums. “I bet, in fact, there will be peanut butter involved in said snack.”

Ted snorts. “I think that’s cheating. You know us Lasso’s have got a weakness for the stuff.”

“I do know,” she grins back at him, pleased to have given him a brief moment of levity. 

She does know. She knows him, knows his son, so very well.

Ted reaches out to tangle their fingers again, squeezing her hand in his.

“Ready to head down?”

“Lead the way, Coach.”


Dressed in soft things - perhaps to comfort them both for the heavy conversation they know is ahead - Ted and Rebecca descend the stairs to find Henry in the kitchen. Sat at the island, kicking his legs against the stool, he munches on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a share-sized packet of Monster Munch next to his plate. A perpetually growing teenager, the pyjama trousers that had fit him perfectly over the summer now finish above his ankles. The sight is a bittersweet one.

Rebecca raises her eyebrows at the sandwich. Ted bumps his hip against hers in recognition.

“I’m glad to see you haven’t forgotten where your favourite snacks are kept since the last time you were here,” Rebecca gives him a wry smile as they walk through the door, detaching herself from Ted’s side to steal a crisp from the bag next to Henry. 

“I was only here two months ago,” Henry rolls his eyes, nothing but fondness in it. 

Watching the two of them from where he’s stood in the doorway, Ted wishes it was two months ago. Or the same kind of visit that Henry was on two months ago. He wishes things were easy and carefree; that the strain he can see so visibly on his son’s shoulders wasn’t there; that the lightness he and Rebecca are trying so carefully to maintain wasn’t so marred by the heaviness behind his being here.

However much he wishes things were simple, though, that simply wasn’t the case. 

“Sleep okay, buddy?” He tries to catch Henry’s gaze as he steps into the room. Henry meets his eyes after a moment, but it’s reluctant, like he’s afraid of catching a disapproving expression on his father’s face.

“Yeah.” Henry gives him a watery smile. “Was good to sleep in my own bed.”

There’s a pause then. Not awkward, but pregnant. Like everyone is waiting for each other to start saying something. Henry sets his half eaten sandwich down a little defeatedly, pushing the plate away from him with his fingertips.

“The weather’s shit today,” Rebecca announces to break the moment. It’s so abrupt, such a non sequitur that Ted can’t help the laugh that escapes him. One appears from Henry, too, the boy looking at his stepmother with such fondness. 

“I wasn’t just saying to be inane,” Rebecca huffs, rolling her eyes and blushing only a little, moving away from her space next to Henry and flicking on the kettle. “It’s also the perfect afternoon for a cup of tea - or coffee -” she gives Ted a look before he can even begin to open his mouth, “and get cosy in the living room. What do you both think?”

“I think there’s a reason why you’re the boss, Boss,” Ted crinkles his eyes at her, a small thank you for setting the ball rolling. “What do you say, Hen?”

Henry looks between the two of them. Ted, who keeps his gaze on him, but gives him an encouraging smile, and Rebecca, who’s busy preparing tea for herself and Henry, and filling the cafetière up with coffee for Ted, but not too busy to give Henry a smile and a wink over her shoulder.

“We’ve definitely gotta talk about stuff?” He tries his luck.

“We definitely gotta talk about stuff,” Ted nods. “Don’t think it’ll do us, or your Mama, any good to wait any of this out.”

Henry picks at his nails nervously for a moment, his expression apprehensive, before he seems to realise what he’s doing and covers his hands with the sleeves of his sweater.

“Guess we should be cosy whilst we do it, then,” he sighs, heaving himself up and out of his seat, before making his way towards the living room.


After a text to Michelle with further updates since Henry’s retrieval at the airport has been sent, all occupants are in the living room and the drinks are steaming on the coffee table, Ted lowers himself next to Rebecca on the sofa. He sits so close that her thigh presses against his own.

Across from them, Henry’s curled into the armchair he always favours in this room. During a rainy week this past summer, more often than not he could be found sprawled or curled in some configuration on the chair, usually with his nose in a book and a mug of tea nearby. Ted’s so proud that he’s become such a voracious reader. Less so about the tea drinking. Beard and Rebecca are always delighted to give him recommendations, or spend a few hours hunting new novels in Daunt Books, when the occasion calls for it.

Now, he curls in on himself. The hood of his hoodie is pulled over his bed-messy hair, his knees are hugged to his chest, feet covered in socks with little cakes on them pulled right up against the seat of the chair. His expression screams he’d rather be doing anything but talking to his dad and his stepmother about why he decided to run away from home and across to the other side of the world.

Ted’s heart throbs. How he wishes he could take away whatever pain his son is going through.

“Mom told us a little of what happened,” He begins, quietly, gently, like he doesn’t want to startle Henry, when no one else makes any move to speak first. “But maybe you could tell me and Becca, or just me if you’d rather, what’s been goin’ on?”

Henry wriggles uncomfortably in his seat for a long while, his gaze darting back and forth between the two of them. He’s clearly waiting them out; hoping they’ll give up the longer his silence endures.

Rebecca does break after a brutally slow few minutes pass.

“I can leave you and Dad to it, sweet boy, if that’s going to make this a little easier for you.” She makes to rise, shooting them both a well-meaning smile that doesn’t meet her eyes at all, when Henry suddenly breaks his silence.

“No! No, Becca. I don’t want you to leave.” He exclaims, a frantic look on his face.

Ted doesn’t miss the relief that washes over her features as she settles back on the sofa. Ted reaches over to find her hand with his own, squeezing as tightly as his heart is in his chest. Rebecca clutches back just as strongly. 

They’ve barely begun, and it already feels like they’ve gone through so much.

“I just,” Henry finally speaks again after another moment of quiet. “I don’t really know how to start.”

He looks so confused. So conflicted about telling them what happened. So scared , that Ted doesn’t bother to resist the urge to get up out of his seat - gently breaking his hold of Rebecca’s hand - so that he can squash onto the chair alongside Henry and gather him into his arms, wrapping him up tightly and keeping him safe. 

Henry clutches back at him, a little desperately. Ted can feel how fast his heart is beating through the thick layers they both wear. The sound of his shaky breaths rattle against his ears. He breathes through his own panic that stems from Henry’s, breathes through how much he wants to help, and his current inability to do so. 

“C’mon,” Ted eventually tugs him over to the couch, guiding him to sit between himself and Rebecca, pressing his mug into his hands so he has something to hold onto. “You can tell us anythin’, Hen. I promise. We’re not gonna get upset with you.” Beside him, Rebecca reaches over to squeeze his arm. 

“Take your time, darling.” She gives him a smile when he looks up at her with watery and unsure eyes.

With their reassurances, Henry opens his mouth, and finally begins to talk. 

It all comes out rather choked, but he forces it nonetheless. In jagged chunks, he explains. His new Health teacher running a class on family structures. Henry and a few other students volunteering that their parents were divorced. Their teacher lecturing on the offshoots that stem from the nuclear family. Henry’s curiosity piqued. His questions once he’d arrived home to Michelle about Doctor Jacob, the last serious boyfriend she’d had before her recent stint of being very happily single. Her ill-advised revelation that he used to be her and Ted’s marriage counsellor.

“And when she told me,” Henry’s voice wobbles around every word, his throat thick with emotion. “When she told me, it was like lookin’ at someone I didn’t even know.”

Ted had known, had seen the conclusion Henry had jumped to from the moment Michelle mentioned it on their call so many hours ago, but he feels the need to ask his son anyway -

“Why, buddy?”

“Because it means she cheated on you!” He exclaims, looking up at him with wild, crazed eyes that fill with tears anew. He suddenly jerks out of his seat, like being sandwiched between Ted and Rebecca is suddenly too much for him. Some of his tea sloshes over the rim of his cup and onto his pyjama pants as he hurriedly sets it down.

“She cheated on you,” Henry spits out. “If she knew Doctor Jake before you guys broke up, it means she must have cheated on you with him.”

“She cheated on you and broke your heart. And then she lied to me for years, let me be friends with the guy that split my parents up, then you both lied to me about why you broke up, and then she let me just blame you and Rebecca and be such a little shit to you both, and now I don’t know which way is up anymore. I feel so stupid for getting it so wrong. I don’t ever wanna see her again, Dad. I don’t wanna be apart from you any more, but I don’t even know if you guys want me because I was so horrible to you both that one time. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry - I just,” the words that had steadily become more and more jumbled finally run out and he descends into incoherent sobs, hiding behind his hands, utterly wrung out and exhausted. In an instant, both Ted and Rebecca rise to their feet, wrapping him up in both of their arms.

For the umpteenth time in less than 24 hours, Ted feels the soul crushing realisation that despite his best efforts, he seems to have failed his son yet again. He closes his eyes against the feeling, allows it to wash over him as he wraps his arms around Rebecca and Henry a little tighter, hushing his little boy with sweet nothings against his hair as he cries himself out. 

He has to put those feelings aside for now. Henry has to be his focus. 

“I don’t wanna live in Kansas any more, Daddy,” Henry whines against him, slumping into him more fully now that his tears have stopped. Ted has to shut his eyes again against the admission, at the tentative joy that blooms in his chest - that his son could end up living more closely to him - and the knowledge that so much of what he’s saying is from such a heightened state of emotion. He can’t and won't pin any real hope behind it.

“Okay, alright baby. Let’s just sit back down again now, alright? Let’s get nice and comfy.” Ted breaks their three-way hold, steering him back towards the sofa that he all but sinks onto. Rebecca follows alongside him, keeping an arm around Henry’s back. When they settle, he leans back against her with a sigh, his head falling against her shoulder.

“Sorry,” he mutters. Ted grabs a blanket from the arm of the sofa, spreading it over Henry before he also takes a seat. “Shouldn’t have blown up on you both like that.”

“Darling boy, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Rebecca cards her hand through his hair affectionately. “It sounds like you’ve been going through an awful lot, maybe for even for longer than just yesterday?” She tries. Henry lets out a reluctant nod against her.

“Is it okay if we keep talkin’ about this a little bit more, Hen?” Ted tries this time, smoothing what he hopes is a calming hand over his blanket covered knee. “Just so we can try and help you sort out all these feelin’s; maybe put some things to rest.”

“Yeah,” Henry scrubs a hand over his face, his voice hoarse and impossibly tired. “Okay.”

Now it’s Ted’s turn to be useful. To try and ease his son’s pain. To try and finally set some things right.

“Henry,” Ted squeezes his knee, just enough so that his son looks up at him with watery eyes.

“I’m gonna promise you, right off the bat, that me and Mom have never lied to you, and Mom certainly didn’t cheat on me.”

“Dad, you don’t have to defend her-“ he tries to interrupt, wrestling a little in his spot between Ted and Rebecca.

“Hen,” Ted repeats himself. Calmly, softly. “Have I ever lied to you before?”

Henry eventually shakes his head after a moment of looking at him, but it’s a small thing.

“When you wanted my opinion on whether I liked Aunt Kathy’s cooking, did I lie to you then?”

“No,” Henry huffs, a small smile tugging at his lips. Ted had pinkie sworn him to secrecy, but he’d privately confided in Henry a few Thanksgivings ago that his aunt’s turkey was “dryer than an old leather shoe left out in the sun,” before promptly smothering the over cooked and under seasoned meat in gravy. 

“Exactly,” Ted gives him a small smile. “I ain’t lying’ to you now.”

Henry looks at him for a moment, his brow still furrowed, like he’s searching for any deception in his father’s gaze. Ted lets him take his time and keep his silence.

Then, after a moment -

“I believe you.”

Ted sags a little in relief.

Henry still looks upset though, fiddling with the drawstring pulls of his hoodie.

“I still don’t think I like what she did, though,” he mumbles a little quietly. “I still feel … weird about it. Like I wasn’t told the full truth.” 

“Hen,” Ted sighs, squeezing his knee again a little. “You were still pretty young when me and Mom decided to split; you’re still pretty young now.” He can’t help the way his lips turn up at the way Henry’s eyes flash with indignation at the assertion. 

“Hey,” Ted jokes, wiggling Henry’s leg under his hand. “Trust me, I’m an old man; you’re still pretty young.”

Rebecca clears her throat unsubtly from her space next to Henry at that, raising an eyebrow shooting him a look that makes all of them chuckle a little. A much needed moment of levity. 

“To be honest Henry,’ Ted continues, bringing them back on track. “We wanted to keep you as removed from everythin’ going on between us as much as possible. We wanted to keep things as normal for you as we could.” 

“By the time your Mom started datin’ Doctor Jake,” Ted scrubs a hand over his face and through his hair, fatigue tugging at him. “We’d been apart for such a long time, and it had been years since I’d even seen him, it hardly felt worth mentionin’.” He gives his son a smile, but it’s a sad one.

“We didn’t keep anythin’ from you to be hurt you, Henry. We just wanted to keep you safe, and not confuse you. But I’m real sorry that it’s come around now and affected you so much.” Ted reaches out to where Henry’s hands are still fiddling with his jumper whilst he takes him in with his still watery eyes, gently pulling one of them into his own grip and squeezing tightly. 

“I’m so sorry, Henry. I’m so sorry that we both hurt you.” 

There’s a few beats, a few more moments where Henry watches him, sniffling. Where Ted can see the cogs ticking over in his son’s brain as he processes what he’s been told before he speaks again.

“It’s okay, Dad. You don’t need to apologise. I understand why you didn’t tell me; it kinda wasn’t my business, and I guess I probably was too young to understand everything, you know?” He shrugs, his voice quiet but sincere.

Rather than feel any relief, Ted’s heart begins to break all over again. Henry’s so mature, far more mature than he was at his age, certainly far more mature than any other fourteen year old he knows. He wonders how much his move to the UK, his split with Michelle, his hereditary anxiety that he knows he’s passed down to his son is responsible for that maturity.

“Thank you, buddy,” is what he says instead, giving him a more genuine smile this time around, feeling some of the earlier tension lift marginally.

“It still hurt you though,” Henry says, getting to the crux of it all. “It still hurt that she dated someone who knew you so well. Someone that used to be your therapist.”

Ted doesn’t miss the way Rebecca shifts next to him, reaching out to briefly cover where Ted and Henry’s hands are joined with her own for a moment. She’s kept her silence for now, letting father and son talk it out, quite literally playing the role of a wall of support for the way Henry is half slumped against her. Ted knows she won’t say anything now, but he also knows her feelings on the matter, the rage she’d felt on his behalf when he’d first told her about Michelle and Doctor Jacob. He appreciates her support always, but especially the quiet solidarity she’s showing now.

“It did hurt a little bit Henry, yeah.” Ted tells him plainly. Henry’s already figured out enough about the situation, and Ted won’t do him the disservice of lying to him, especially not since Henry’s told him how betrayed and in kept the dark he’s been feeling.

“That’s what I don’t get,” Henry leans forward, his head falling into his hands. “Mom would have known that. She would have known it was gonna hurt you, and she did it anyway.” He lifts his head, looking impossibly confused. 

“Not telling’ me about stuff, I get that. But…” He trails off, before turning to look at Ted. “She ain’t normally like that; that’s what I don’t get. She’s normally so kind and considerate. Why would she hurt you like that, Dad?” A few errant tears spill down his cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” Ted soothes, pulling Henry closer so that he’s pillowed against him. His head lands somewhere near Ted’s heart, and he hopes that the rhythmic thumping will soothe him the way it used to when he was a baby, fussy and crabby in the dead of night, needing to be lulled back to sleep by one of his parents.

Ted feels Henry’s tears slowly begin to soak through the fabric of his old Arthur Bryant’s t-shirt. He lifts his head from where his nose is buried in his son’s hair to catch Rebecca’s eye. She gives him a sympathetic smile, mouths a love you that he mouths right back, before reaching forward to rub comfortingly along Henry’s back.

“Maybe it’s silly,” Henry eventually finds his voice again, though it’s muffled from his place against Ted’s chest. “To be so upset with her. But I just feel like I don’t know who she is any more, knowing that she did something that she knew would hurt you so much.”

If that doesn’t have guilt constricting tightly against Ted’s chest anew. He knows all too well, as does Rebecca, what it feels like to be betrayed by a parent. To look back on the memories you once shared with them and wonder if any of it was real, because of how deeply their later actions had cut, regardless of how severe or intentional their actions were. He knows he was never going to be able to protect Henry from everything, but he did want to be able to protect him from this. 

“That actually sounds like the furthest thing from silly I’ve ever heard,” Rebecca finally breaks her silence. Henry’s head shoots up, turning to meet her gaze. She gives him a fond look, reaching forward to cup his face.

“Darling boy, a very wise person once told me that whilst we may not always need to act on our feelings, we can always, absolutely and completely own them, even if they’re negative. Especially if they’re negative, in fact.” Her thumb rubs against the apple of his cheek. “What you’re feeling in relation to what you’ve found out sounds like the most natural thing in the world to me.”

“Was it Dad who told you that?” Henry raises a brow after a moment of considering what she’s said.

“You’re getting too smart for your own good,” Rebecca winks as he rolls his eyes, sniffing a little and wiping the sleeve of his hoodie against his nose. Rebecca winces, reaching over to grab a tissue from the conveniently placed box on the coffee table, which Henry accepts gratefully.

Rebecca looks like she wants to keep talking, from the way she’s biting her lip and looking thoughtful. She also looks unsure of herself, like she’s not quite sure if it’s her place to do so. It’s happened before and will probably happen again. Ted catches her eye, gives her an encouraging nod, crinkling his eyes in assurance.

“Sometimes,” she begins to say, a little shakily, bolstered by Ted’s unspoken reassurance, flicking her gaze to Henry, soft and gentle. “Sometimes when we’re caught up in a moment, or the excitement of something new, we don’t always stop to consider another person’s feelings. But it doesn’t make your mum a bad person, sweetheart,” Rebecca soothes, dropping her hand to slide her arm around Henry’s shoulders.

“Maybe it wasn’t her smartest decision in the world, but it’s far more of a reflection on Doctor Jacob than it is her. And Dad’s okay,” she smiles, nudging him to turn and face Ted. He leans against the back against the sofa cushions, exhausted beyond belief with the heaviness that’s permeated the room for the last few hours, but pleased beyond all belief to see some of Henry’s stormy expression begin to clear a little more.

“I’m okay, buddy,” Ted reiterates. “Got some real good people in my life. Got Rebecca and Beard, Keeley and Roy; got the team. And I got you - top of my list for makin’ everything better, always.”

“I don’t feel like I am,” he shrugs, an attempted quirk of his lips falling flat. His sleeves are pulled over his hands, and he uses one of them to wipe under his eyes, his tissue already forgotten and balled in his fist. 

“Hey now, why you sayin’ that?” Ted asks, leaning forward at the same time Rebecca makes a noise of discontent, tightening her arm around Henry. 

“I just,” Henry hiccups from behind his sleeve. “All I could think about on the way here was how bad I made things those few summers ago, how much I hurt you both. How can I make everything better when I almost made everything fall apart?”

And there goes Ted’s heart again, already bruised and battered as it is after today, somehow managing to crack even further in his chest.

How can I make everything better when I almost made everything fall apart?

As if. As if he ever could. 

“Darling boy,” Rebecca soothes, tugging him more fully into her arms. He goes easily, limp and exhausted and completely overstimulated, still crying and muttering quiet I’m sorries into Rebecca’s neck, much like at the airport. Ted scoots over, smoothing a firm hand over Henry’s back, hoping that the pressure is comforting rather than adding to his overstimulation.

“There’s nothing to apologise for,” Rebecca says into his hair, dropping a little kiss there without thinking about it. “That was a long time ago, and we’re all sorted now, aren’t we?”

She’s exactly right. Even though the summer between Henry’s tenth and eleventh birthday had been a tough one for all three of them. Even though his behaviour had been - to put it politely - less than desirable. Even though he’d acted out - behaving sullen and shut off, apparently angry with the two of them for reasons he refused to disclose - seemingly only happy when he was out of the house and with people who weren’t Ted and Rebecca. Even though he’d blown hot and cold with Ted and downright avoided Rebecca - making excuses not to visit the bookstore with her, sitting with Phoebe and Keeley at his first Richmond match back rather than next to her as was custom, feigning tiredness when she suggested a games night, running up the stairs and missing her crestfallen expression. Even after - at the height and the awful worst of it - he’d come down before anyone else was up and tipped a freshly baked pan of Rebecca’s biscuits into the bin. Despite the confusion and the hurt and the uncertainty of the beginning of that summer, they really were okay. 

Ted had gotten it out of Henry eventually. After discovering the biscuits in the bin, he’d told Henry to get his walking boots on and that they’d be going for a long walk until they’d gotten to the bottom of what was going on with him, Rebecca’s ashen face and glassy eyes haunting the back of his mind the entire time.

It had taken a little while. More than a little while. They’d walked around a huge chunk of Richmond Great Park before Henry had finally broken.

Turns out a semester of what Henry called bickering with his friends, but what Ted saw immediately as intimidation and bullying flying completely under the radar had all gotten on top of him. 

“None of their parents are divorced,” Henry muttered, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. “They were just kinda ribbin’ me about it. And I dunno, Mom’s not with anyone but you and Becca are still together and I think I just,” he scuffed his feet along the ground, keeping his eyes firmly fixed there. “I wanted to take it out on someone, I guess.”

“And me and Becca were the easiest people to take it out on, huh,” Ted surmised, closing his eyes with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Henry agreed, his voice thick. Ted crouched down in front of him, halting their walk completely, gently tilting his son’s chin up with a finger so they could look at each other.

“Hen, I need you to be completely honest with me, does me and Rebecca bein’ together make you upset?”

No ,” Henry’s lip wobbled and his eyes filled, even as Ted’s chest expanded in relief. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even like being Mean Henry,” he sniffed. Ted almost laughed for how irritated with himself Henry sounded. He didn’t, though, because his heart panged sharply in his chest at Henry’s next words.

“I’m just tired of being the only different one outta my friends. And I wanted someone to blame.”

“Hen,” Ted soothed, pulling him close, holding his tiny body close to his chest. 

He knew he and Michelle divorcing was the right thing to do - for all the space he was willing to give her, for all the compromises he would have made - their relationship always had an end date to it. That knowledge didn’t stop the wash of guilt that swept over him as Henry buried his face into his neck, crying quietly against him.

“I just wish you’d told us, buddy, rather than keepin’ it all inside. That can’t have felt good, could it?” Ted said against his hair. Henry shook his head against him.

“You think it might be a good idea to do a Facetime with Mom later today? Maybe talk it through, see if we can come up with somethin’ to make you feel a little better?” Ted asked once Henry had pulled away, the little boy nodding only maybe a tad reluctantly.

“Alright,” Ted held his hand out for a high five. Henry returned it, but his eyes were still watery.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry I hurt you and Becca.”

“Hey, that’s alright Henry, thank you for apologisin’,” Ted pulled him in for another short, sharp hug. “You’ll prolly feel a lot better once you’ve apologised to Rebecca too, y’know?”

“I know,” Henry sniffed.

He was quietly contemplative, but noticeably lighter on the walk back through the park, down the hill and across the green to his and Rebecca’s house. By the time they were through the door, Henry had already scooted off before Ted even closed the front door. He didn’t get to see the two of them reunite, but he heard Rebecca’s quiet “oof,” as Henry had presumably rammed into her. He wanted to give them space, so he puttered around the foyer a bit, tidying up both her shoes and Henry’s - the two were notorious for toeing them off and leaving them without a care for putting them away - stowing away a few loose ends on the hallway table, before he ventured further into the house to see what how things were coming along.

“I’m sorry to hear you’ve been having such a shit time at school,” he heard Rebecca say before he poked his head around the door to the kitchen. Henry was sitting up on the island, kicking his legs a little anxiously. Rebecca was standing close by him, pushing his hair back and out of his eyes affectionately. 

Henry giggled at her cursing. “That’s okay. I’m real sorry I took it out on you and Dad. I’m sorry I threw your biscuits away.” He turned his eyes away from her at that, like the shame of what he’d done in the face of who he’d done it to was too much for him to cope with.

“Thank you for apologising,” Rebecca said softly, following with an even softer, even more heartfelt “I forgive you.”

“You do?” Henry turned back to her, his voice thick.

“Of course, darling boy,” Rebecca cupped his face, wiping his tears away with her thumbs. “You should have seen some of the ridiculous things I pulled when I was your age. One time, when my mum wouldn’t let me go to my friend’s birthday party, I threw her favourite lipstick down the toilet.”

“You didn’t,” Henry gaped at her, before giggling up a storm at Rebecca’s solemn nod. Ted had to quiet his own snort, lest he interrupt their moment.

“You said you’re sorry, and I know you mean it, so we’re okay,” Rebecca promised once his giggles had died down.

“You don’t think I’m the most evil step kid to ever exist?” Henry winced.

“I pinky promise that’s not the case at all,” Rebecca held out said finger, waiting for Henry to loop his own around hers. “As long as you promise to tell me if you ever think I’m being the most evil stepmother to ever exist.” She kept her voice light and joking, but Ted didn’t miss the hint of insecurity laced through it.

“Never,” Henry promised right back. “You’re actually the best step-mom, I think.” He gave her a watery, but genuine smile.

Rebecca didn’t reply to that, too overcome with emotion, her own eyes glassy. Instead, she pulled Henry into her arms, the little boy wrapping his own around her willingly rather than just submitting to any affection she or Ted had shown him over the past few weeks. 

That had felt like a good time to break the moment, so Ted had stepped in, suggesting a biscuit baking party to make up for Rebecca’s lost batch that morning. For the first time that summer since Henry’s arrival, things had finally begun to feel somewhat normal again, and the rest of his son’s summer vacation had only gone up from there.

Ted had honestly thought, by the time they’d packed Henry back on the plane at the end of that summer, that the whole incident had been forgiven and forgotten. He had been even more reassured after Henry had come bounding home from his first week back at school, a whole new set of friends acquired after joining a new board game club.

He’d had no idea he’d been carrying around so much guilt for so long.

“Anyway,” Rebecca says against Henry’s hair. “You had to test whether I was going to be a wicked stepmother or not at some point, didn’t you?” She pokes his side, making him laugh and squirm away. 

“Okay, okay, I get it.” He runs a hand over his face and through his hair. “As long as we really are okay,” he glances at both of them.

“More than okay, sweet boy,” Rebecca squeezes his hand, before he turns to Ted.

“We okay, Dad?” Henry asks, his voice a little small.

“Henry Lasso, you are the greatest joy of my whole entire life,” Ted grins at him, giving him a wry look.

“Dad,” Henry squirms, a blush colouring his cheeks even as he smiles. “Can we not?”

“Oh no,” Ted hooks an arm around his shoulders, hauling him into his side. “After all that stinkin’ thinkin’, we gotta have a little praise parade.” He winks at Rebecca, who snorts and rolls her own eyes.

“We really don’t,” Henry’s voice is muffled from where he’s buried against his side.

“Oh but we do,” Ted counters. “You are the funniest, smartest, kindest-” he’s cut off from further expounding of superlatives by Henry’s wiggling, his hand slapping across his mouth. 

“Okay, alright! I get it,” Henry giggles next to him. Ted’s heart lifts immeasurably at the sound. “We’re okay.”

They are. They are okay.

Everything goes still then for a while. Rebecca shifts from her spot, moving next to Ted so he’s in between her and Henry. She rests her head on his shoulder. Beside him, Henry lets out a deep sigh, relaxing further against him. Ted closes his eyes for a few moments, letting his body sink further into the couch. He’s suddenly so tired he thinks he could fall asleep, here with the two of them heavy and warm against him. He’s only stopped from doing so when Rebecca mutters a quiet,

“I don’t know about you two, but I’m fucking famished.”

Ted snorts a laugh that Henry echoes, but his son’s head lifts in interest.

“I haven’t had Nandos in the longest time,” he fake laments, tilting his head and looking at them both with the puppy dog eyes Ted’s had a hard time resisting for all of Henry’s life. Ted’s so glad, so happy to see Henry more like himself, that he’d have taken them both out to a Michelin star restaurant if he’d asked.

“Oh alright,” Ted keeps up the bit, encouraging Henry up off the couch. “You go freshen up and we’ll order in enough chicken to feed the whole team.”


It’s later, much much later, after a truly unholy amount of food has been consumed by all three of the Welton-Lassos and they’ve moved onto a whole new season of Parks and Recreation (Henry’s been determined to give Rebecca an education on the best of American sitcoms for the past year or so), that Ted broaches one final topic of conversation from the day’s earlier events.

“Hey,” Ted reaches out to nudge Henry’s foot with his own where they’re crossed close to each other against a giant stuffed ottoman. Henry’s back in his favourite armchair, Ted and Rebecca are curled on the couch.

“You know you need to call Mom tomorrow, tell her you’re sorry for what you said,” he reminds him, just gently.

“Yeah, I know,” Henry blinks heavily at him. “Thanks for not making me do it tonight. I think I still need a bit of time, you know.”

“No, I know, buddy,” Ted agrees. “Betcha we’ll all feel less like zombies tomorrow once we’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

“Looks like Becca’s beaten us to it,” Henry grins, nodding to Ted’s shoulder where Rebecca’s head had finally dropped against, after nodding dangerously at the beginning of the last episode. 

“M’not sleeping,” Rebecca counters, her voice muffled from where she’s laying against Ted. “I was just resting my eyes.” She sits up after a moment, rubbing her face with her palms, giving them both a rather indignant look for someone who definitely was just completely asleep.

“Well I’m gonna go to sleep,” Henry says, rising from his chair. He dithers for a minute, playing with the sleeves of his hoodie, before speaking again.

“Thank you both, for takin’ care of me today. I’m sorry I scared y’all this morning.”

“Thank you, for comin’ home,” Ted says in response, rising from his seat and pulling Henry into his arms. He lets out a deep sigh against Ted’s shoulder, as if being in the arms of his father is one of the safest places in the world. Ted smiles, pressing a kiss to his mop of hair.

“I meant what I said earlier, y’know,” he says once he pulls away. “Maybe, on Facetime maybe, we can talk with Mom about me spending more time here? See how she’d feel about letting me move over? If that’s okay with you guys,” he tacks on hurriedly, even as he looks hopefully at them both.

“We’d love to have you here for as much time as you want to be here, darling,” Rebecca says from her place on the sofa, crinkling her eyes at him. Ted squeezes Henry’s shoulders in agreement.

“We’ll talk it over once she comes over to pick you up,” Ted assures him. When Henry opens his mouth to argue that he’s perfectly capable of flying back by himself, Ted stops him before he’s even started.

“Don’t you even try it, Henry Houdini. If you think I’m lettin’ you fly by yourself for the foreseeable future, you got another thing coming. Either Mom’s comin’ to pick you up, or I’m flyin’ back with you.”

“Fine” Henry huffs, elongating the word. “I suppose that’s fair enough.” He heads towards the door to the living room, giving them both a wave before he starts out and up the stairs. “Night Dad, night Becca. Love you guys.”

“Love you buddy,” Ted echoes.

“Night baby, love you back,” Rebecca follows him.

Once his footsteps have quietened completely, Ted sinks back down onto the sofa. Rebecca snuggles right in, tugging a blanket from the back of the couch over them both.

“Bedtime for us soon?” she murmurs hopefully, nosing against his neck.

“Just a few more things to figure out,” Ted laments, pulling his phone out of his pocket and bringing up Michelle’s number. “Then we can rest.”


By the time Ted has finished up his call with Michelle - covering all the bases but not having the energy to delve too deeply into what they spoke about; by the time he’s confirmed that she’ll call Henry out of school, that she’ll book her own flight for next week to come and pick him up; by the time he and Rebecca have called a child therapist (a recommendation from Sassy) for Henry to speak to tomorrow until they can find someone for him back in the States; by the time he’s booked his own session for later in the week with Sharon and confirmed with Rebecca that she’s gotten in touch with her own therapist; by the time he’s locked up the house, flicked off the downstairs lights and is slowly making his way up the stairs, he’s not quite sure how he’s still standing.

The last time he’d done this - completed his standard night time ritual - he’d had no idea, not even an inkling, as to what the next day’s events would hold.

Despite it all, despite Henry’s heartache and his trauma, despite the utter wringer they’ve all gone through over the past day in particular, despite the uncertainty regarding Henry’s future living arrangements - Ted can’t deny how good it feels to have his son back in his home, how good it feels that he came home to here, to him , to seek safety when everything else felt so scary and uncertain.

He climbs to the top of the house briefly, pushing open the door to his son’s room.

He’s clearly barely made it to bed. Sprawled on his stomach on top of the covers, in different pyjamas than earlier, his face is - rather adorably - smushed into his pillow, his hair flopping over his forehead and across his closed eyes. His bedside lamp is still on, a book folded face down next to him on the pillow. He clearly had intentions, ones that he was never going to be able to keep, considering the level of exhaustion weighing on him.

Ted creeps in as quietly as possible, pulling a blanket from the foot of the bed to cover him. Before he flicks off the lights and pads back out, he rubs a tender thumb between Henry’s brows, glad to see the earlier tension and heaviness he’d been carrying having now melted away.

It’s more likely than not that he’ll still carry some of it in the coming days and weeks. One conversation does not a difficult situation resolve. Ted does feel, however, that it will be better than today.

It has to be.

When Henry’s room is dark and his door has been pulled to rather than closed - the same way his and Rebecca’s door will be once they’re in bed, in case Henry needs or wants them - Ted finally makes his way to his own room.

His brow furrows when he enters, though, finding the bed empty. Rebecca had headed up a good ten minutes before he had, and he’d assumed she’d be taking the first opportunity she could to head straight to bed.

Apparently not.

“Hello,” her gentle voice answers his unspoken question.

He turns to find her leaning against the doorway to the walk-in wardrobe, a hip propped up against it, looking at him fondly. She holds out a hand and wiggles her fingers. He readily takes it, following her without question, through the wardrobe and into their ensuite. 

“I know you’re exhausted,” Rebecca keeps her voice quiet and low whilst Ted takes the room in.

The lights have been dimmed as low as they’ll go. A few candles have been sourced and lit, covering either side of the sink, one of the shelves that houses some of Rebecca’s products, a few are even clustered around the golden feet of the bath itself.

The tub has been filled, has probably only just finished filling from the way steam rises off it, looking sinfully inviting. It’s piled high with bubbles, the scent of Rebecca’s fancy bubble bath floating through the whole room. 

It’s an oasis. It’s beautiful and romantic and thoughtful; he’s told her on more than one occasion how much he loves baths, finds them one of his favourite ways to relax.

“If you want, we can go to bed,” Rebecca pipes up again. Ted turns to catch the little shrug of her shoulders, the shy upturn of the corner of her mouth. “But I thought this might be nice. A good way to decompress for the both of us.”

“Think you might’a read my mind, darlin’,” Ted says back just as softly, trying to keep the wave of emotion that threatens to crest over him out of his voice. He’s not sure how well he succeeds, for the gentle way Rebecca leans in and cups his face, for the soft, slow kiss she presses against his mouth.

Time spins out before them, then. They undress each other rather than tending to their own clothes. It takes longer than usual, but the need to connect and reassure each other through physical touch is greater than anything else tonight. And after all, there’s no reason to rush.

Watching her peel off her layers and bare herself to him, seeing the weight of her breasts, the curve of her hip and the soft swell of her stomach under the gentle light of the candles is like a balm. There’s nothing sexual in it, not tonight, but nothing fortifies him more than seeing the woman he loves exactly as she is. He’s lucky enough that Rebecca lets him see her this way, has done for so many years.

She encourages him into the bath whilst she turns to find a clip for her hair. He sinks into the hot water with a sigh, scooting forward when Rebecca scratches gently at his shoulder with manicured nails. Once she’s settled behind him, he leans back against her chest, his head tucking back into the space where her neck and shoulder meet.

Finally, finally, Ted relaxes.

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” he mutters, his eyes fluttering closed as her arms come to wrap around him.

Rebecca snorts, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“I’m frankly offended that you’re even tempted to fall asleep, when you have forty-four inches of therapy currently wrapped around you,” she huffs, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist and drape over his groin.

“Okay, you got me there, Julia Roberts,” Ted retorts, opening his eyes to enjoy the view. He holds onto Rebecca’s hands, pressed together in a prayer-like pose, in between his own, lifting them out of the water.

“How are you?” She asks after a moment of quiet. Ted keeps his focus on their hands, the way their fingers seem to slot so well between each other. He’s impressed that his hands aren’t shaking. Maybe he’s simply too exhausted to properly panic. Regardless, he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Tired. Not exactly feelin’ like father of the year,” he huffs a laugh humourlessly. “Relieved that he’s here. Can’t stop thinkin’ about how he might be spendin’ more time here, even though I’m tryin’ not to pin any real hope behind it. Glad Sharon agreed to squeeze me in for an extra session tomorrow afternoon.”

Rebecca huffs her own laugh at that last part. She disentangles their hands only to reach for a loofah over her shoulder, lathering it with more shower gel that smells like it belongs in a spa, sluicing him in warm water, rubbing concentric circles over his shoulders, down his arms, across his chest, down his belly, washing the day away.

“I know I don’t –” Rebecca begins, pausing and huffing at herself after a moment of dithering. “I know I don’t have the same parenting experience you do.” She stops her movements to wrap her arms around him again. “But today was hard. Probably one of the more difficult days of being a parent that you’ve lived through, regardless of the fact that Henry quite literally ran away from one country to another. You did good, Ted. Give yourself a bit of grace.”

He doesn’t feel totally able to, doesn’t feel like he deserves to or that he should take on the words Rebecca’s said. There’s a voice in the back of his head, telling him he’s not worthy enough. That he’s not a good enough parent to deserve her praise, or anyone else’s. That it’s his fault any of this happened. That a father who moves to the other side of the world when his son is so young and impressionable is bound to mess up said son's life for good. That he’s only doing to Henry what his own father did to him, just in a more protracted fashion.

When he turns his head to meet her quiet, reassuring and tired gaze. When he catches the flicker of emotion and exhaustion in her beautiful green eyes. When he sees nothing but love and care and worry for him writ all over her features –Ted makes a concentrated effort to listen to that voice a whole lot less.

He lifts a hand out of the water to cup her face, pulling her down to meet his mouth in a soft kiss.

“Thank you, baby,” he says after they pull apart. “For everythin’ you’ve done today.”

“Ted, please,” she tries to wave him away, her cheeks flushing from his attention on top of the warmth of the water and the room. 

“Rebecca,” he repeats, a little more emphatic this time, a little more gravitas to his voice. He keeps his hand on her cheek, rubs a wet thumb over the apple of it. She bites her lip, almost anxiously.

“You did good,” he reassures. “We both did,” he tacks on, partly to give himself grace rather than self-flagellation, partly to see her smile. Which she does.

Rebecca leans her temple against his briefly, a quiet moment of thanks, before encouraging him to turn back around so she can finish tending to him. She continues to wash his body, kissing each pad of his fingers when they’re clean and soap-sud free. She massages shampoo into his hair, humming gently whilst she cups a hand against his forehead and rinses him clean. If she’s trying to keep him awake, she’s doing an awful job at it.

By the time she’s done, he feels the lightest he has all day, but his bones are impossibly heavy with fatigue.

“I can,” he starts, gesturing to the loofah, turning to her, even as he fights to keep his eyes open

“Get me back next time,” she winks instead, rising with him out of the water. She hands him a fluffy towel. When they’re almost dry, they brush their teeth side by side in the soft light of the candles, smiling sleepily at each other through the mirror.

They only tug clothes on because Henry’s in the house, although Ted knows they’d both prefer to sleep skin against skin. After he pulls the door to their room open just slightly, Rebecca looks at him with nothing but understanding in her eyes. He loves her immeasurably for it. For all of it.

Crawling under the weight of the duvet feels like heaven. Rebecca slides in right next to him, curling against him and slotting one of her legs between his own. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him close to her. Looking after him, even still.

“It will be better tomorrow, Ted,” she whispers right next to his ear, before she succumbs to sleep. The words press against his skin, like she’s trying to push them into his bloodstream so they reach his heart. 

Tomorrow will be better, Ted assures himself. Although so much is still up in the air, although there’s still so much fallout to recover from after today. He has no idea if Henry will end up living with them or stay in Kansas, or if he’ll decide to split his time more equally between here and the US. Ted might succumb to the panic and the stress tomorrow. Henry may not gel with the temporary therapist they’ve found for him. Rebecca may struggle and falter, doubting herself and her place in his son’s life.

There is still the good, though, and that’s what Ted keeps his mind focussed on. His son is in his bed just a floor away, rather than the usual ocean of distance. He is no longer lost and alone above the clouds, confused and scared and filled with uncertainty. Today was difficult, but undoubtedly all three of them are closer because of it. Rebecca is in his arms, resting after a day of holding the three of them together. He is warm in his own bed, and although he still carries a lot, he doesn’t doubt that he’s exactly where he belongs. That here, in London, with Rebecca next to him and Henry just upstairs, is exactly where he’s meant to be in the world right now.

Blessedly, finally, he falls asleep.