Everybody ~ 4

The light woke her before anything else.That thin, grey morning kind of light.

Tess blinked blearily at the ceiling, her limbs heavy, throat dry. Her whole body ached like she'd been wrung out.

Then she remembered Cook.

Her hand reached instinctively across the bed but all she could feel was cold sheets.Empty.

She sat up too quickly, heart suddenly lurching — but the ache low in her belly made her pause. It wasn't the same sharp tug she sometimes felt. It was something else.

Then she saw it.

A patch of dried blood.Small, dark. Just near where Cook had been lying.

Her breath caught.For a horrible second, she thought it was hers.

Her hand flew to her stomach, her breath caught—Was it her? Was something wrong?

But... no. No pain. No blood on her.The mark was far from where she'd been sleeping.It wasn't hers.

She exhaled shakily, but the relief was brief.If it wasn't hers — it was his.Or someone else's.And now he was gone.

Again.

—---

Tess trudged into the kitchen, hair a mess, jumper sliding off one shoulder.

Michelle looked up from her tea and raised an eyebrow."You look rough."

"Cheers," Tess muttered, dragging her feet toward the fridge.

Michelle took a sip. "Mum and Paul are gone, by the way. Day trip. Anniversary or something. Told me to tell you they'll be back later."

Tess blinked. "Jeez it's already been two years."

Michelle made a face, but nodded. "Her longest marriage since Dad."

That made Tess snort. "Depressingly true."

They were quiet for a moment, the clink of Michelle's spoon in her mug filling the silence.

Then Michelle said, "Did he ever try to talk to you? After that fight the other week?"

Tess shrugged. "Nup. Nothing."

"You want him to?"

"I don't know." Tess sat down, wrapping her hands around a cold mug she didn't bother filling. "Maybe it's better if we don't see him anymore...At least till this is all blown over" She muttered, looking down at her stomach.

"You mean, until you've adopted it out?" She asked but Tess just shrugged.

Michelle didn't argue. She just leaned back in her chair, looking up at the ceiling for a second."I mean, we spent so long waiting for him to come back. Thought it'd fix everything. But when he finally did..."

"It made everything worse," Tess finished.

"Yeah. I know he's... better now, or whatever. And if it's not the drinking, then maybe..." Michelle hesitated. "Maybe he was always like that. We just didn't see it."

Tess stared at the table. Her voice was quiet. "He must still be in there somewhere. That version of him. Otherwise someone as normal or smart as Louise wouldn't've married him, right?"

Michelle gave her a mischievous grin. "Someone's warmed up to her."

Tess cracked a tired smile.

Michelle stood and started checking around for her keys. Tess watched her curiously."Where you off to?"

Michelle's face lit up, just a little. "I've got an interview."

Tess sat up. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah. Some thing for a fashion magazine in the city."

"That's amazing!" Tess grinned, properly now. "You'll get it. You have to!"

Michelle rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "I don't know. There's probably a hundred girls better than me."

"Nah. I practically lived off your wardrobe in Year Ten. Basically curated my entire personality for a year. You'll just be doing it for thousands of others!"

Michelle chuckled, finally finding her keys in her jacket pocket. "Surprisingly nice of you to say."

"It's not nice," Tess said. "It's true."

Michelle paused in the doorway. "You seeing anyone today?"

Tess hesitated. "...No."

She looked down at the chipped mug, her thumb running along the handle.

"Actually, Cook showed up last night. He came in through my window in the middle of the night. He was a mess, Chelle. Like properly not right. I don't even know what happened. He was crying and pacing and saying all this stuff that didn't make sense."

Michelle blinked, not expecting that.

"And he was gone by morning. Maybe he went back to Freds but it's not safe for him to roam around right now."

Michelle froze. "Are you serious?"

Tess nodded slowly. "Yeah. And... there was blood. In my bed this morning."

Michelle's expression changed. "Was it—?"

"His, I think. I don't know. I was fine. It was on his side."

Michelle's expression shifted subtly. Concern deepening.

"You think he's in trouble?"

For a beat, neither of them spoke.

"I think he's already in it."

Then Michelle touched her sister's arm, grounding. "Let me know if you hear from him again, yeah?"

"I will."

And just like that, the kitchen was quiet again — but now the silence wasn't peaceful.It was waiting for something.

-----

A couple of days later and still no sign of Cook. No word from Freddie either.

Tess sat curled on the couch, phone balanced on her knee, call history a mess of repeated names.

JJ hadn't seen him.Naomi hadn't either.She'd even tried Effy, who just sighed and said, "No," in that detached way she always did, like she was tired of bad news.

Now Tess clutched her phone to her ear, pacing slowly through the living room as it rang again.

"Karen?"

"Still nothing," Karen said immediately, her voice tight, distracted. "I checked the shed, even asked around. No one's seen him. You sure he didn't say anything else?"

Tess sank onto the edge of the armchair. "He was drunk, Karen. Barely made sense. I don't know where he went after."

Karen sighed down the line. "And Freddie?"

"No idea," Tess whispered. "Still no sign."

There was a pause. Then, quietly:"Something's really fucking wrong. I can feel it."

Tess didn't reply. She didn't have to.

Karen let out a shaky breath. "Alright. Just... let me know, yeah? If anything changes."

"Yeah."

Tess hung up and set the phone beside her, staring blankly at the wall. Her hand was resting absently over her stomach.

Then—

"How many bloody phone calls have you made today?"

Tess looked up to see her mum standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised, tea in hand.

Anna crossed the room and sat on the arm of the couch. "You alright?"

"No." Tess hesitated, then shook her head. "Cook's gone again."

Anna exhaled, unsurprised. "He'll turn up. He always does."

"He was... off, Mum. Worse than usual. And now it's been days."

"If the police had picked him up, we'd know," Anna said gently. "You'd get a call."

"Unless he's hurt...Unless he left."

Anna gave her a look. "Tess. You've got enough to worry about without imagining every worst-case scenario."

Tess didn't argue.

Anna glanced down at her daughter's stomach. "Anyway, have you been thinking more about the adoption thing? Are you planning on going to one of those, what do they call them, the... 'meet the family' things?"

Tess rubbed her forehead. "I can't even think about that right now."

"I'm not saying you have to decide today...although we've only got so long-," Anna added quickly, clearly trying to be supportive, "but you should keep your options open, love. There's no shame in not keeping it. But if you do want to—"

Tess's phone buzzed.

She glanced down.

Unknown Number.

She stared at it, heart suddenly thudding. Her breath caught.

Anna frowned. "Who's that?"

"I dunno."

Tess stared at the unknown number for a beat too long.

She answered."...Hello?"

The voice on the other end was clipped and professional "Is this Tess Richardson?"

She blinked. "Yeah. Who's this?"

"This is the police. I'm contacting you regarding an incident involving a Frederick McClair and a John Foster."

Tess sat upright."What kind of incident?"

Another pause. Then:"I'm not at liberty to say over the phone, but your name came up during our initial sweep of the scene."

Her blood went cold.

"We found a reference to you in Mr. Foster's files," the detective continued. "Alongside Mr McClair, A James Cook a Pandora Moon and an Anthony Stonem. Are those names familiar to you?"

Tess gripped the edge of the couch. "What the fuck does that mean? Is he ok?"

"Look theres something happening at the Foster residence but right now all I need you to do is come in and answer a few questions. You may be—"

Tess didn't wait to hear the rest. She hung up.

"Who was that?" her mum asked, frowning.

But Tess was already on her feet, reaching for her keys, heart in her throat.

"Mum, I need to go—"

"Tess, what's going on?"

"I'll call you, I promise!"

But Tess was already halfway out the door

-----

Tess moved quickly down the pavement, her steps turning sharper, quicker — almost frantic.

John Foster.

The same Foster she'd met at the hospital. Polite. Calm. Cold in a way that made her stomach twist.

The same Foster who'd sent shivers up her spine every time he spoke — too smooth, too steady. Like everything was rehearsed.

The same Foster Freddie had warned them about. The one he'd desperately written about in that notebook.

"John Foster wants to hurt her."

The one who was now linked to some horrible "incident" involving Freddie.

Her legs moved faster.

She didn't know exactly where his clinic was. Only that she'd walked past it once with Pandora, who'd pointed out the fancy brick building, and told her she'd taken Effy to therapy there once.

But she remembered the street. The shape of the block. The rows of identical doorways and the overgrown hedges. She could find it. She had to.

She scanned the street, heart racing faster than her legs could carry her.

Freddie.

The police had said his name. Frederick McClair. So formal. Like he was already a fucking case file.

What happened? What could've possibly happened? Why was her name in Foster's files? Why was Cook's?

And where the fuck was he?

Her thoughts raced ahead of her steps, each more terrifying than the last. Freddie had been off for weeks. Paranoid, skittish, always muttering about how something wasn't right with Effy. And Cook—Cook had been spiralling. Saying wild, disjointed things, pacing her room, saying "I was next. You were next."

Her thoughts twisted into knots. What if Foster had done something? What if Freddie had been right the whole time and no one listened? 

Her breath hitched as she glanced left and right, eyes flicking over identical doorways, trying to spot the one with the little silver plaque on the fence.

But she didn't need to look long.

Up ahead, flashing lights lit up the early afternoon gloom. Blue tape cornered off the footpath ahead.

Her stomach dropped.

Tess didn't think.

She ran.

There were two ambulances parked out front. Lights flashing. Officers milling around. A small crowd gathering behind police tape, murmuring.

Then she saw it.

A stretcher. Covered over with a white sheet pulled too neatly over the shape of a body.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Her knees nearly gave out.

No.

No, no, no.

The air left her lungs as if someone had punched her in the chest. A ringing started in her ears.

Her mouth opened but no sound came out. Her vision blurred at the edges. That couldn't be him. It couldn't be Freddie.

She stepped forward on shaky legs, the world narrowing to the still figure under the sheet.

Her lips parted, trembling.

"Freds..." she choked, eyes wide and wet. "Freddie—?"

And then—

"Tess?"

A voice.Weak.Rough.But unmistakably his.

Her head whipped around.

There — just behind the chaos, half-obscured by the side of one of the ambulances — a stretcher. Another one. And lying on it, pale and bruised and barely holding on,

Was Freddie.

He was holding an oxygen mask just off his face, lips cracked, eyes fluttering open like it took all the strength in the world to say her name.

"Cook's... Cook—" he whispered, before the paramedic gently pushed the mask back onto his face before he could say more.

Her hand flew to her mouth as the sob ripped out of her. 

He was alive.

He was fucking alive.

THREE WEEKS LATER

Tess sat close by, her fingers mindlessly tracing circles on the bed, watching him stir beneath the thin hospital blanket. His eyelids fluttered open slowly, heavy and reluctant, as if waking from a long, dark dream.

"Hey," Tess whispered softly, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "How're you feeling?"

Freddie's eyes, glassy and unfocused, met hers for a brief moment. "Like I got hit by a train," he rasped. Then a weak, tired smile appeared across his lips. "But better, I guess."

"Eff's gone home for a bit." She gave a small, relieved breath. "You've been out for a while."

He tried to speak again but coughed softly, then settled into the quiet.

"Freddie?" Tess's voice was soft, almost breaking. "Can I ask... what was Foster doing?"

Freddie blinked, swallowing thickly. "He... he was obsessed. With Effy. With control. Wanted to... to get rid of anything in his way. Everyone."

Tess swallowed. "Is that why we were all in his notes?"

Freddie's eyes darkened, a flicker of pain shining through. "Yeah. He kept me there, asking questions. Trying to get info — on you, on Cook, Panda on Effy... On all of us."

A shaky breath escaped him. "He wanted to know where we all were, what we were doing. Like he was hunting us before we even knew...He said he knew you and Cook were onto him. If he'd had the chance, he would've..."

"Fuck."

Then Freddie's spoke again, voice fragile, "Heard from Cook?"

"No..." Her heart tightened. "I've been worried sick. He's not here. Not with me. Not anywhere I can find. I don't know if he's safe."

Freddie looked blankly at the wall, "Why would he leave?"

Tess shrugged, voice trembling, "I don't know, he was pretty shaken that night. Maybe it was all too much...Maybe he wanted to avoid those police. I just, I thought he would've done it differently. At least tell me what was going on or hand himself in. Own up to it all...Guess it wasn't worth staying for"

"It's not your fault Tess." Freddie's gaze softened, tired but steady. "Cooks an idiot for leaving you."

"It's like everything's falling apart. I'm scared. I don't know what comes next. For any of us...."

Freddie tried to smile, but it faltered. "I'm sorry, Tess. I wish I could help more. I was barely holding on myself."

Tess swallowed hard. "Don't be sorry. You've been through hell. You deserve to rest."

They sat in silence, both broken but holding on.

----

Tess sat cross-legged on her bed, the weight of the room pressing in around her.

She hadn't moved much these past few days. The curtains were half-drawn, letting in a grey stretch of light that made everything look dustier. The sheets were twisted. A half-drunk glass of water sat forgotten on the windowsill. Her phone was face-down.

Earlier, she'd gone to one of those meetings —potential bright-eyed couples. She sat there pretending she wasn't falling apart, Pretending to think clearly. Like the idea of giving away a part of herself — of Cook didn't already feel like being carved open.

She'd barely said a word.  She could barely focus on their endless chattering. Every question felt like a test she hadn't studied for. Every answer stuck in her throat.

It was the first time she'd left the house in days.

She was trying. But everything felt so loud. So exhausting. Even simple conversations drained her like she was leaking from the seams.

And the world was still spinning.

Naomi and Emily were heading off to Goa soon — their tickets booked, bags half-packed. Pandora and Thomas had just found out they were both accepted to the same uni in London, high on the coincidence, already planning their schedules. JJ got promoted at work and Michelle had gotten that job at the magazine. Effy was slowly coming to terms with everything, now knowing Freddie hadn't abandoned her — that he hadn't left when she was at her worst. That he'd been taken from her, not that he chose to go.And Freddie...He was still recovering. Still pale. Still fragile. But every time she visited, his voice got a little stronger. His hands shook a little less.

And then there was Tess.

Still here.

Still waiting.

Still pregnant.

Still alone.

Her fingers curled around the edge of the blanket. She didn't know how to explain it. Not really. It was like... someone had pulled the floor out from under her and she was still falling, slower now, but endlessly. Nothing grounded her. Every time she thought about what came next, her head filled with static.

Cook had vanished.

And with him, every plan. Every conversation. Every whispered maybe.

She kept hoping for some kind of answer. A note. A call. A message. Something to explain why he'd left when she needed him most. Why he'd run.But her phone stayed silent.Or worse — it rang with other voices. People wanting things from her. Information. Decisions. Deadlines. Life moving on whether she was ready or not.

She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

She was tired of pretending she wasn't hurt.Tired of pretending she didn't care.

Because she did.God, she did.

And it felt like no one could see it — the way she was splitting at the edges. How alone she felt in a room full of people. How much it hurt to be the one who stayed.

She loved him with everything she had. She thought he had too . And no matter how far he ran there was nothing she could do to get rid of that aching feeling.

Tess didn't realise it was the last time until long after it was gone.The last laugh.The last stupid fight.The last time they were all in the same place before the world forced them to grow up.

But she remembered it.Every detail.Even the ones that hurt.

And some people — no matter how far they go, no matter what they break —they leave a mark that never fades.