For Joan

[theodorelasso]

Continued from here.

(warnings: sexytimes. also, panic attacks, brutal violence, attempted murder, discussion of suicide and actual murder... )

Comments

[formersurgeon]

The cops carry him out and to a first aid station, one of them barking on the radio that they need EMTs. They sit Ted down, staying with him to steady him. He can doubtless hear Turner screaming and cursing as he's dragged out of the interrogation room.

Then Sherlock is there, crouched in front of him, his expression one of alarm and concern and guilt.

"Talk to me," he says, searching the man's face, looking for signs of mental compromise.

[theodorelasso]

Ted's already started hyperventilating by the time they sit him down. He can hear Turner, but it's fuzzy and distant, like someone filled his head with cotton balls, pierced by a high-pitched whine.

He's clenching his fists, struggling to breathe, feeling like an elephant is sitting on his chest. He's also crying, but he doesn't even really realize that.

He looks up when Sherlock appears, though it takes him a moment to focus and realize it's him. "I can't breathe," he struggles out, voice strained and weak.

A panic attack probably qualifies as mental compromise.

[formersurgeon]

Sherlock recognizes what this is. He's had his own panic attacks here and there, and there's only one thing he can think of.

"I'm phoning Watson," he says taking the phone out of his pocket.

[theodorelasso]

Ted shakes his head, but he doesn't have the wherewithal nor the physical ability to actually try to stop him right now.

He doesn't want to worry her, just like Sherlock told him, and he doesn't want to disturb her while she's working, and he doesn't want to blow their story. He isn't quite rational enough to realize this is probably something she'd want to be disturbed with.

[formersurgeon]

Sherlock frowns faintly when he sees Ted shake his head.

"She loves you," he says, as gently as Sherlock is able. "She would want to help."

He dials her number.

It's very early in the morning in New York, and Joan is asleep. Her phone rings, and it's a moment before she opens her eyes. Then she sees it's Sherlock, and she sits straight up, scrambling to answer.

"Sherlock? What's wrong?"

"Ted was attacked in the interview," Sherlick says quietly, turning his head so Ted doesn't easily hear him. "I think he's having a panic attack."

Shit. "Let me talk to him."

Sherlock holds out the phone to Ted.

[theodorelasso]

Ted looks up, hesitating for a moment, mostly because he's finding it difficult to move at the moment. Then he reaches out and takes the phone, clutching it tightly.

He doesn't say anything, not sure what to say, and having trouble getting words out to begin with. But his labored breathing should be obvious through the phone.

[formersurgeon]

She can hear his breathing, and it tells her that Sherlock is probably right.

"Hey," she says gently. "Can you hear me okay?"

She's giving him her voice and the question to focus on, and seeing if he's able to answer.

[theodorelasso]

"Yeah," he answers, though his voice is obviously strained, like he's pushing the air out when he doesn't really have a lot of air to spare.

It feels good to hear her voice, though.

[formersurgeon]

"Good," she says softly. "You're okay. You're safe now."

She doesn't know exactly what happened, nor where he is, but she knows that if Sherlock is right there, then he's safe.

"Can you close your eyes for me?"

[theodorelasso]

"Okay," he breathes, doing as she asks with a small sob. His eyes were almost screwed shut already, so it doesn't take much.

[formersurgeon]

That sob makes her ache for him. She wishes she was right there with him, her arms around him, whispering all this to him.

"Good," she says. "I want you to visualize the Richmond pitch. It's before a game, right before the spectators start coming in. The grass is perfect, and you're feeling good about the game. Can you see it?"

[theodorelasso]

Ted tries to focus on her voice. There's things happening around him, he can vaguely hear movement, but he tries to block it out.

He doesn't answer immediately. It takes him several moments before he can wrangle his brain there, trying to see it in his mind's eye.

"Yeah," he answers eventually, trying to calm his breathing, but it's hard.

[formersurgeon]

"Good," she says soothingly. "It's quiet and peaceful, all promise and potential. The grass has just been mown, and it smells amazing. Can you smell it?"

If she can ease him into taking a breath, she knows it will help him calm down.

[theodorelasso]

Ted takes a deep breath in through his nose, or at least as deep as he can manage.

He doesn't answer this time, focusing instead on drawing breaths, as long ones as he can manage.

He's been through this before, and with her grounding him, it's a little bit easier to remember that.

[formersurgeon]

Sherlock can hear the two EMTs as they are coming down the hall, and he stands to intercept them.

"Mr. Lasso needs a moment," he tells them quietly. "He's recovering from a panic attack."

They look at each other, then agree to standby.

Joan can hear Ted taking breaths, can hear them getting longer, deeper.

"That's right," she encourages him quietly. "There you go. You've got this."

[theodorelasso]

He just sits there, focusing on his breathing, focusing on her voice. At some point he stops imagining the pitch, and instead imagines her sitting next to him, holding him, whispering to him.

He takes a deep breath, and he opens his eyes again, and it's like the world opens a little bit too.

"Okay.." he says, his voice gruff but less strangled. "I'm okay.." He feels absolutely wrecked, but he's calming down.

[formersurgeon]

"Good," she says, relieved by the shifting tone of his voice. She wants to know what happened, wants to let him talk through it, but she knows it's a bad time. It would be a bad time even if they weren't minimizing contact, still trying to stick with this story. It would make sense for Sherlock to turn to her even if they had broken up, because she would still love him, and still want to care for him. But they can't do much more.

"I love you," she whispers.

[theodorelasso]

"You too," he whispers back.

He looks around to see where Sherlock went, and he's standing over by some EMTs who are looking pretty antsy to attend to him.

"Okay, I, uh, gotta go, they wanna make sure I'm okay," he explains. His voice sounds like he just woke up from a five year nap. "I'll hand you to Sherlock.." he adds, and nods at the medics to indicate that yes, he's safe to approach now.

[formersurgeon]

"Okay," she says. "Take care, okay?"

The EMTs come over, followed by Sherlock. One of them crouches down to get to Ted's level.

"How are you feeling Mr. Lasso?"

[theodorelasso]

"Kay," he answers Joan, then lets the hand with the phone drop, though he doesn't hang up.

"Awful," he answers the EMT, but he manages the tiniest of smiles. "But I think I'm okay."

His ribs still ache from being dragged onto the table, but that was probably the worst of it. He might have a bruise from the punch, to match the other side. But compared to the ache of coming down from a panic attack, his head doesn't really hurt. Not in the same way, anyway.

He looks at Sherlock and offers him the phone.

[formersurgeon]

"I understand you recently broke your ribs," the EMT says. "Do you have any sharp pains in either of your upper sides?"

Sherlock takes the phone with a nod and steps away to talk to Watson.

"Did you learn anything?"

"Mr. Lasso was actually astoundingly successful," Sherlock tells her. "He was able to get a name and basic description of the man who triggered Mr. Chapman."

"Good."

"I can see why you like him, Watson," he remarks. "In addition to being a truly good man, he is also quite clever."

In New York, Joan smiles. "Yes he is." Then, more solemnly: "Let's solve this case so I can see him again, okay?"

"Doing my best, Watson."

[theodorelasso]

Ted doesn't hear the conversation, too focused on answering the EMT's questions of where it hurts and where it doesn't. Based on the questions he's made to answer, it doesn't sound like he has internal bleeding at least. He'd rather not go back to the hospital again.

[formersurgeon]

The EMT does basic neurological tests, and nods in satisfaction. "I recommend you put ice your face," he says. "But you should be fine to go home. Do you have anyone to take you?"

"I can accompany Mr. Lasso home," Sherlock says. He feels bad for putting Ted in danger and feels he owes it to Watson to at least make sure the man gets home all right.

[theodorelasso]

Ted looks up at Sherlock in surprise, but then nods with gratitude.

At some point someone brought him his crutches, and he picks them up again, and lets the EMT help him to his feet. His body has that post-adrenaline ache and exhaustion. Like a deflated balloon. His shoulders are already hunched even before he uses them to support himself with the crutches.

[formersurgeon]

Sherlock stays close to Ted as they walk, there to steady the man if he so requires. He's silent for the moment, wanting to leave a respectful space for Ted to speak if he desires. Sherlock is not usually the best listener, as he becomes impatient, his mind moving a mile a minute. But for Watson, and, by association, Ted, he will try.