Chapter Text
Bill S. Preston, Esquire, woke up and quickly remembered the sad truth he’d been learning to live with: Today would be another heinous day without his most excellent counterpart, Ted “Theodore” Logan.
He was coming home soon, though.
Wait–
Bill practically tripped out of bed to get to his calendar, marked off with as many exclamation points as would fit into the little box. ‘Ted comes home!!!!!!!!’
After making absolutely sure that he’d got his dates right, Bill came to another, much more excellent conclusion: Today was the day.
This was it.
This was it!
This –today– –In a matter of mere HOURS– was the first day in months Bill could see Ted again!!!
He'd never been this excited, nervous, and anxious all at once.
Granted, until a few days ago, he'd thought Ted would be gone for years.
He didn't really understand the details of what had happened there –all he knew was that Ted was coming home far, far sooner than he was supposed to– and that was fine by Bill.
✦☆⧖⧗⧖🧭⧖⧗⧖ ★✧
Sitting at the bus stop, Bill’s state of “excited, nervous, and anxious” quickly mixed into one mess of an emotion that felt heinously too much like scared.
And he shouldn’t be scared, should he? This was Ted. This was his Ted, and it would always be his Ted, no matter what.
…and it was dumb to be thinking like this anyway. They’d only been apart, what, four months? Three? It felt like more, since it was the longest they’d been apart since they met (so, ever basically), but it wasn’t. It was only a few months, and Ted “Theodore” Logan could not possibly have changed from his most bodacious self.
Could he?
No. He’ll be the same. Bill tried to convince himself, repeating the phrase in his mind, but it kept coming back distorted by his stress.
What if he’s all serious now? He considered.
What if he’s hurt, and that’s why they sent him back?
Why did they send him back, anyway? Mr Logan sure wouldn’t tell him.
A deep breath was Bill’s best attempt at shaking the thoughts out of his head, but it didn’t help. He missed having Ted around to help him with stuff like this. He missed knowing someone understood him.
And he hated having to think about how he might have to miss that forever if Ted had really changed.
Just as Bill was sure he was going to lose his mind with anxiety, the bus pulled up.
A few people got off, usual strangers who ignored him, followed by a few who glanced at Bill oddly.
Those ones, he was sure, had gone to Oates Military Academy with Ted.
A couple of them walked straight past Bill, despite looking at him like they were trying to place him from somewhere, but one stopped in front of him.
Bill craned his neck up to lock eyes with the man standing over him.
The man, menacing and twice his size, looked like someone who would’ve bullied him and Ted in high school.
“You Bill?” he asked, scrutinising the smaller man.
“Uh–” the blonde stuttered, trying to string a sentence together. “Yeah– I, um, I’m Bill S. Preston, Esquire, dude. Can– Can I help you?”
“He’s here, man!" The guy yelled, aimed towards the passengers of the bus. “C’mon.”
The steps of the bus rattled with a heavy thunk as someone hopped down them.