Chapter 1: The First Step
Chapter Text
Ted finishes pacing in a circle for the umpteenth time and lets out a deep breath, his fingers still drumming on his thighs. A knock comes at his office door, and he looks over. “Come in!”
The door opens, and Paul steps inside, shutting it behind him. “Hey. What did you text me for, exactly? I haven’t even finished my reports yet.”
“Oh, this’ll only take a minute. I just need your opinion on something.”
“What?”
Ted drums on his thighs for a few seconds before he puts his hands on the back of his chair. “So I just got back from R&D, right?”
“I’m gonna assume the answer is ‘yes’.”
“Yeah, well, you know how some days they just really test my patience?”
“It’s come up.”
“This is one of those days. Don’t get me wrong, some of them are probably the smartest people I’ve ever met, and they’re all great at what they do - most of the time.” Ted gestures for emphasis, then he drops his hand back on his chair. “But overseeing an entire department isn’t easy by itself, and they still come to me with questions they should already know the answers to or notes on a project we haven’t started yet when we’re already working on five. I can multitask, it’s a survival skill down there, but I am not that good.”
“I know,” Paul says, slipping his hands in his pockets. “It hasn’t even been two months, you’re still getting your bearings. That isn’t exactly news. I don’t understand why I’m here.”
“Oh, I’m getting to that. You know Kelsey, my senior technician?”
“I don’t remember the team’s names all that well, but sure.”
“Good. So my point is, I’ve been pushed pretty far today, and everybody’s learned to back off before I reach my limit - they don’t always follow through, but they understand the consequences.”
“So what happened with Kelsey?”
Ted drums on the back of his chair, staring at a random point on his desk before he looks up. “She came up to me before I left and said ‘I think you need this, boss’, and she gave me the number of a therapist she knows - a friend from college, I think.”
Paul blanches a little. “Oh.”
“Yeah. I don’t want to say she crossed a line or anything, ‘cause she really is one of our best, and you know I don’t exactly mind someone calling me out on my shit.”
“Still, I can understand why that must have blindsided you.”
“A little.”
Paul nods, and Ted does the same. His gaze falls briefly back on the desk, until Paul comes over and he looks up again. “I just - Is she right?”
“Ted, that’s not really a question I can answer.”
“I mean, I know. But I’m not gonna take a poll with the rest of the team or anything.” Ted gestures again and holds a hand to his heart. “They don’t know me like you do, and I really need someone who’s seen me at my lowest to weigh in, here.”
Paul looks at him for a minute, then over at the wall, before he turns back to Ted. “I think therapy doesn’t work for everyone. And I know how hard it is for you to admit that you need help - honestly, I’m surprised it sounds like you’re considering it.”
Ted throws up his hand in a shrug. “What can I say? I know I have problems. The idea of talking about them isn’t all that fun, but to have someone who can maybe give me some way to cope? That sounds promising.”
He slumps just a little as his hand falls back on the chair. “And I’m so god damn tired, Paul. I don’t want to be constantly fighting off migraines and just…on edge all the time. I can’t keep living like this.”
Paul leans over to squeeze one of his hands. “Then you should call that number.”
Ted works his jaw for a second, blinking away the mist threatening to form in his eyes before he nods. “Yeah, okay.”
///
“Ted,” Paul says from his seat. “You’re digging a rut into the floor.”
Ted stops pacing just to flail his hands a little. “I have too much energy right now.”
“Trust me, that’s obvious. I’m sure the doctor will be ready in a minute.”
“You know I’m not good at waiting. Booking the appointment was hard enough, I don’t know what to do now that I’m actually here.”
“If you’re having second thoughts, then cancel. You can always try again another time.”
“No, I want to see if this works, it’s just-“ Ted gestures aimlessly before putting his hands on his head, tugging at his hair a little. “I don’t know.”
Paul throws the pamphlet he was reading on the table and gets up to face him. “Ted, breathe.”
Ted takes in a deep breath and lets it out, his hands falling back to his sides. He slips his fingers in his belt-loops, but the others still twitch, and Paul definitely notices. He says, “You’re overwhelmed, and that’s fine. What you have to remember is that Dr. Winslow isn’t going to judge you.”
“Easier said than done.”
“I know. But I hate seeing you like this.”
That hits particularly hard, and Ted sighs, lifting one hand to run it over his hair. “Paul, I can’t remember the last time I didn’t feel like this. What am I supposed to do with that?”
Paul takes his hand in both of his. “Tell her. There’s a chance she can help you, it’s just going to take some time. You have to work with her, Ted.”
Pressing his lips together, Ted nods, even as he says, “I’m going to hate this.”
Paul gives him a little crooked smile. “You definitely will. But I’ll be right here when you’re done, ready to drive the getaway car.”
Somehow, Ted chuckles, and it’s only a little half-hearted. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
That’s when a woman comes from down the hall, giving them a polite nod as she passes to leave the building. Over at the front desk, the receptionist hangs up the phone and calls out, “Dr. Winslow will see you now, sir.”
For a split second, Ted freezes, until Paul squeezes his hand. “An hour isn’t that long. You’ll be back before you know it.”
“Yeah, I guess. Thanks for putting up with me.”
“Well, someone has to.”
Ted blanches and pulls his hand free of Paul’s. “The nerve!”
Paul flashes his most innocent smile. “I love you.”
Ted drops the act right away and returns the smile, even if he does roll his eyes. “Love you, too. Alright, wish me luck. I’m gonna need it.”
Paul waves after him as he leaves the waiting room. “Good luck!”
A sign points Ted down one corner, where he finds a door marked with Dr. Winslow’s name standing ajar. He pushes it the rest of the way, and the woman sitting in an armchair looks up from the black book she’s writing in. “Ah, Mr. Spankoffski.”
“God, please just call me ‘Ted’.”
Dr. Winslow pulls what’s almost a wry smile. “Noted. Please, come in.”
Ted steps into the office, shutting the door behind him. Dr. Winslow gestures toward the couch across from her, and when he sits down, she says, “Now, my understanding is this is your first therapy session.”
“Yep.”
“Well, then let’s get this out of the way; my job is to help you find a safe and healthy method of navigating whatever it is that brought you here. Nothing we might discuss will leave this room without your permission.”
Ted nods, skme of the weight slipping off his shoulders. “Thanks for clearing that up. I wasn’t exactly worried, but-“
“It’s still good to know, I imagine. You are far from my first ‘green’ patient, shall we say.” Dr. Winslow turns to a new page in her little book and clicks the pen in her hand. “Now, with that all settled, where would you like us to start?”
Ted straightens up a little, pressing his thumbs into his kneecaps for just a second before he tries to relax and think of an answer.
Here goes everything.
///
At the end of the session, Dr. Winslow shows Ted out of the room and says, “I think we’re already making progress, which is a wonderful thing to say this early. I do hope you’ll take my advice into consideration - I understand if it was a bit forward-“
“No, no, uh, it’s fine.” Ted waves it off. “I can’t say it’s the first time someone’s brought it up. And you really are just trying to help.”
“Glad we understand each other.”
“Yeah. So, uh, same time next week?”
Dr. Winslow nods, shaking Ted’s hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise. Guess I’ll go now, then.”
Ted watches Dr. Winslow step back into her office before he goes back to the waiting room. Paul stands to meet him and asks, “How was it?”
“Honestly, better than I thought. It’s good to have everything out there, and she said we can start talking about next steps soon.”
“That’s great!”
“Yeah. Let me just talk to the front desk, then we can go.”
“Okay.”
Ted double-checks that his next appointment is already booked and that this one was paid for - which, somehow, is what ends up being his least favorite part of the whole deal - then they leave. Once they get in the car, though, he says, “There is something else Dr. Winslow brought up.”
Paul stops just as he’s putting the key in the ignition. “What?”
Ted claps his knees a few times, glancing out the window before he looks back. “She thinks I should get tested for ADHD.”
“…Okay. Do you want to?”
“It sounds like you’re trying not to piss me off. You don’t have to do that.”
“I’m still asking.”
Ted shrugs, fixing his seatbelt when it brushes against his skin. “I don’t know. It’s come up…more times than I can count, really. When Pete took his first psych class, he came home and pretty much shoved his notes in my face. And I’ve been told more than once that I should be medicated, but that might just be an insult.”
“Yeah…You don’t have to let all of that sway your opinion, though.”
“You know, that’s probably at least some of the reason I never have been tested. That’s the thing about labels, isn’t it? We have them so everyone else knows what’s ’wrong’ with us - or, that’s how it feels.”
“Absolutely.”
They’re quiet for a second, until Ted asks, “When were you diagnosed, again?”
Paul drums his fingers on the wheel with a small sigh. “College. Autism wasn’t understood like it is now, so I’m unbelievably lucky that I found a doctor who didn’t see the forest for the trees, you know?”
“Yeah, it must’ve been hard. What was everybody else saying, anxiety or something?”
“That was the most common excuse - and that’s what they were, excuses. Justifying the most obvious symptoms and ‘letting me down easy’ because Autism was such a harsh diagnosis back then.”
“Oof.”
Paul nods, staring into the distance for a beat before he says, “I’m not saying it’s a perfect system now. But it is better.”
“I know. But isn’t ADHD, like, the number one diagnosis these days? You zone out too many times and they’re shoving Adderall down your throat.”
“That’s true, unless you have the right doctor, like I did. I’m sure Dr. Winslow knows someone.”
“Someone who won’t mistake the forest for the trees?”
“It’s an apt metaphor.”
Ted chuckles and moves to get out his phone. “Alright, I can ask her next week, but I’ll try to start looking now. Come on, you’re wasting gas.”
As they start driving, he tries to learn more about ADHD and how to get a diagnosis, and weirdly enough, it doesn’t feel all that intimidating.
Whatever’s at the end of the road, maybe it won’t be too bad.
Chapter 2: Learning Curve
Chapter Text
Ted leans back in his chair, turning another piece on his Rubik’s Cube before he looks at Paul sitting on the other side of the desk. “You sure this is how you want to spend your break? You could always go bother Emma.”
“Emma will be fine.”
“Oh, but I won’t, is what you’re saying.”
“Ted.”
Ted chuckles, waving it off. “I’m just pullin’ your leg. But seriously, the test isn’t until tomorrow - and Dr. Winslow said it’ll take more than one to get a diagnosis.”
“Still, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m good. I’ve been reading a lot - I asked Jamie to find the best articles and papers-“
Paul makes a plain look, which prompts Ted to add, “And it probably says a lot that I need my assistant to do something that simple, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
Ted sighs and gets back to shuffling his Rubik’s Cube. “It’s not like I’m saying I don’t have ADHD. I mean, this is pretty much all I do when I’m not working. You do the math.”
“It’s a lot to process, though, isn’t it?”
“Kind of! Not like it was ever really out of the question, but I’ve never done the research until now. Did you know there are different types? Because I sure as hell didn’t!”
Paul nods with a slight grimace. “Yeah, everyone focuses on the ‘hyperactivity’ part. I know how that feels.”
Ted remembers their conversation outside Dr. Winslow’s office and winces. “Right. God, why does everything have to be so complicated?”
“Life isn’t fair.”
“You’re supposed to be the optimist between the two of us.”
Paul chuckles and says, “I think we’ve spent too much time together.”
“Eh, with the kids at school, not like we have a choice…that sounded so much worse than I meant it to.”
“Don’t worry, I got it.”
“Good.”
As Ted finishes his Rubik’s Cube, Paul asks, “So how’s work? Maybe it’s too soon to tell, but-”
“It’s fine. I’ve got a bunch of meetings lined up for next week, and that’s gonna suck, but I have started…what’s the word, delegating? So the team isn’t putting as much on my shoulders as they used to. I’m just enjoying it while it lasts.”
“Ah.”
The intercom beeps, and Ted leans over to press it. “Yeah, Jamie?”
“Mr. Ravenscroft for you on line one, boss.”
“Perfect. Thanks.” Ted tosses his Rubik’s Cube aside to grab the desk-phone. “Either he’s checking if I’ll be there on Monday or his wife is inviting me to brunch again. Place your bets.”
As he hits the speed-dial, Paul chuckles. “How often does she do that?”
“Since I started, probably once a week. Guess she was friends with the last CTO and old habits die hard.” Ted puts the phone to his ear and points to the door. “Out.”
Paul laughs and raises his hands, but he does get up, waving as he leaves the room. Once the door shuts, Ted grabs his Rubik’s Cube again, moving the phone between his ear and shoulder so he can re-shuffle it. “Ravenscroft, buddy! To what do I owe the pleasure…?”
///
Ted nods as one of the psychiatrists escorts him out of the office with the promise that they’ll be in touch. He waits for the door to close before he looks at the folded papers in his hand, then he turns a few corners to get back to the waiting room.
Paul is already standing, doing something on his phone, and he looks up when Ted comes over. “Well?”
“Okay, so they said they’re gonna want an opinion from at least two outside sources just to be sure, but-” Ted holds up the papers. “I got it. Combined type ADHD, so that’s hyperactive and inattentive. I think.”
“It makes sense, for you. Can I see?”
“Oh, yeah.” Ted hands over the papers, watching as Paul unfolds them to skim through. “It’s…a lot of words, which is some morbid irony for this diagnosis, but I got the gist. We should provably talk in the car, though, because I’m pretty sure the receptionist is giving us the evil eye.”
So they leave, and after they get in the car, Paul asks as he hands the papers back, “How do you feel?”
Ted shrugs, leaving the papers in his lap. “Not that much different. I could already relate to everything Jamie looked up; it’s not really a surprise.”
He pulls out the paper at the bottom, showing Paul the series of checked-off boxes. “You see how many symptoms the actual professionals noticed?”
“That’s…a lot.”
“Pfft! Yeah.”
After a beat, Ted asks, “…Is it wrong to say I didn’t realize until now that ADHD isn’t just a short attention span?”
Paul lightly shakes his head. “No. It’s the most common symptom, and you had no idea what else to look for. It’s easy to write off.”
“So we’re not even safe from justifying it to ourselves?”
“I don’t think anyone is. Let’s just say there’s more than one reason I waited until college for a diagnosis.”
“Yikes. Yeah, it was the one nobody wanted.”
“Yeah. But you know something?”
“What?”
“Autism and ADHD share a lot of symptoms. So if you’re confused at all, I can probably help.”
“Oh, great! Now that you mention it-“ Ted points out something on the paper. “Do you get decision fatigue?”
“Not as much as I used to, but sure. That’s why I don’t make plans if I have the option.”
“So it’s self-preservation? And here I thought you just didn’t care.”
“It can be both.”
Ted chuckles and starts folding all the papers back up. “Right.”
Paul asks, putting the key in the ignition, “What has you wondering about that symptom?”
“I think it’s probably the biggest reason I’m so stressed about work. I told you I’m delegating or whatever, but I still doubt it’s gonna last. Should I talk to the team, maybe, or at least the department heads?”
“You’ve put yourself out there a lot already these last few days. Are you sure you want to do that with your employees?”
“Well, it’s not like ADHD’s a death sentence. I’m okay with telling them, I think, if it helps all of us understand each other…maybe I’ll talk to Dr. Winslow about it first.”
“Good idea.” Paul nods and turns the key. “Want to go to Beanie’s? You can practice by telling Emma.”
Ted thinks about it and shrugs, leaving the papers on the console this time. “Sure, why not?”
///
As Paul rings the bell at the Beanie’s counter, Ted says, “Did you know caffeine and ADHD symptoms don’t mix?”
“Is that not just a rumor?”
“I don’t know, but I was thinking about it on the way here and I realized coffee just makes me tired. Which, you know, it’s not supposed to do that.”
“Yeah, no.”
“Hm. Well, at least now Emma can stop giving me weird looks all the time.”
Paul laughs and says, “I think she’s judging you for a lot more than your drink order, Ted.”
“She doesn’t have to show it!”
As if on cue, Emma appears at the counter. “Hey, there you guys are! Haven’t seen much of you this week.”
Getting out his wallet, Paul says, “Yeah, that’s a long story. Ted?”
While he puts a tip in the jar, Ted claps the counter and turns to Emma, throwing up some jazz-hands. “I started therapy.”
“Good for you. It’s about time.”
“Oh, fuck off, Perkins.”
Paul chuckles, leaving the rest of the money on the counter. “Alright, play nice, you two.”
“Yes, Paul,” Emma says, and it sounds rehearsed, but by now Ted knows it’s at least somewhat genuine when she asks, “So how’s it going?”
Ted tips his head in a shrug. “Fine. Just the one session so far, but it went okay. Probably says a lot that she referred me to a psychiatrist, though.”
“Wait, did she already have a diagnosis after talking to you once? That’s crazy. What is it?”
“ADHD.”
Emma tilts her head and nods slowly. “Huh. You know, that’s not really surprising.”
Ted hits the counter again and raises his hands. “Wasn’t for me, either.”
“I’ll bet. Be right back.”
While Emma goes to get their drinks, Paul asks Ted, “Did that help?”
“What, you mean did it prepare me for telling the team? Sort of. Kelsey is actually a lot like Emma in some ways, and I’m not looking forward to her saying ‘I told you so’.”
“Do you think she suspects it?”
“I don’t know, I’m not gonna ask or anything. But I’d be a lot less thrown off by the therapy invite if she thinks I need Adderall and not anti-psychotics.”
Paul chuckles, but then he says, “Actually, that’s an important question. Do you want to start taking something for it?”
Ted clicks his tongue, drumming his fingers on the counter. “I think that’s another thing I’ll have to bring up with Dr. Winslow. Like I said, I’ve been told before that I should be medicated, but it always felt like an insult.”
“Ah. Yeah, that wouldn’t help.”
“No.”
Emma comes back, asking as she puts their drinks on the counter, “What are we talking about?”
Ted grabs his drink, gesturing with it. “If I should start taking Adderall, or whatever else they prescribe for ADHD.”
“That’s a tough one. Doesn’t Adderall have, like, a bunch of shitty side-effects? You get migraines, right? I’ve heard it causes headaches.”
“Well, that answers that question. Thanks, Emma.”
“All in a day’s work.” Emma throws up a peace sign and takes the rest of the money. “Pleasure doing business.”
Paul waves after her as she walks away again, grabbing his own drink. He tells Ted as they head for the door, “You don’t have to take anything. A lot of people go unmedicated even after a diagnosis.”
“Yeah, that’s probably gonna be me.” Ted holds the door open for them to leave. “I guess it could help, though. For now, I think I’ll just see if therapy is enough.”
“That sounds like a good plan.”
As they head back to the car, Ted says, “Hey, I just remembered Pete’s coming over tomorrow.”
“Oh, good. How are things with Stephanie?”
“They’re making it work. You gotta give them credit for trying.”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway, the reason I bring it up is I have a question.”
“What?”
“If I put my diagnosis up on the fridge, how long do you think it’ll take for Pete to notice?”
Paul laughs as he gets out his keys. “You could always just tell him.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
Paul rolls his eyes, then they get in the car. As they start driving, Ted takes out his phone and unfolds the papers again so he can send a picture to Jamie. He chuckles when she replies with ‘congrats, boss’, and he lets her know to schedule a meeting with the highest-ranking members of R&D before he goes back to reviewing the list of symptoms, just to make sure he understands everything.
Maybe - hopefully - things will get better from here on out. For the first time in a while, he might just be looking forward to it.