trashchildren | For Joan

"Yes, of course," Ted answers immediately, mildly confused and surprised by the question, but with zero doubt as to how to answer it.

"I'm glad to hear it," Sherlock says. And he is. For much of his life Sherlock held little truck with friends, believing himself above such attachments, when in actuality he was protecting himself from the pain of rejection and loss. Then Watson came into his life.

"It was not my intention to upset you," he says. "And for that I am sorry. But as your friend, I stand by what I said as well. You're happiness matters to me. There are few things as inimical to happiness as not allowing yourself to be known by those who love you."

Ted tries to absorb that without getting defensive or upset. (It's not easy.)

He considers it to be a negligible part of himself. What impact does it have on his life? And what impact could it have if it did become known - like Sherlock himself said.

"She knows everything that matters," he answers. Though he looks down as he considers that statement. It's not entirely true. But he does have every intention of sharing those things, eventually.

Sherlock isn't surprised to see Ted second guessing that answer, although possibly not for the reason Ted is thinking of.

"What sports teams does Watson root for?" he asks Ted.

"Mets and Jets," he answers, frowning gently, confused what that question has to do with anything. Which seems to be a common feeling when talking to Sherlock.

Of course he knows. Sherlock himself suffered through a televised Mets game within days of meeting Watson.

"Does it matter?"

"Well, you're asking a sports nerd that, and it matters to her, so, yeah, it matters to me," he answers with a shrug.

"Who you love matters far more than who Watson roots for. I know she would agree with me on this. Assuming..." He pauses for a moment, a warning he's going to say something Ted won't like. "That Shaun is not the first man you have had feelings for, then I would imagine this has been difficult at times. And unless you believe Shaun will be the last, that difficulty is likely to recur. You don't have to face that alone. Likewise, what joys come of it you need not keep to yourself. They matter because you matter. You matter to Watson. You matter to me."

Ted's having a real difficult time listening to this. There's definitely a part of him that wants to snap at Sherlock again, or walk away, or both. It makes him defensive to listen to someone talk about it. Like he's been caught out.

It's hard for him to imagine what joys could come of it. And he certainly doesn't think Joan needs more difficulties to handle right now.

And yet some of it is being absorbed. And the kindness behind it overpowers... whatever it is he's feeling. Fear, or shame, or guilt - whatever it is that makes him want to snap at Sherlock. Though it doesn't quite overpower the need to run away, this ache in his chest that makes it difficult to stay here, and even more difficult to go back in to Joan and pretend like nothing's wrong.

Ted looks away. "I, uh.." he starts, licking his lips. "Could you bring Joan her smoothie? I need to.. go for a walk or something," he says, turning towards the door.

Edited 2021-09-06 05:20 (UTC)

Sherlock nods and rises. He knows that Ted shouldn't be on his feet right now, but he's not going to say that. If he needs to take a walk, then he should, and Sherlock won't stand in his way.

Edited 2021-09-06 05:42 (UTC)

He heads for the door and grabs a hoodie on the way out, and that's about as much preparation as he has the wherewithal for. He doesn't even put on proper shoes, just puts on a slipper so he won't be barefoot. Nor does he grab his phone or wallet.

Chances are the walk will end up only as long as it needs to be before he can find somewhere to sit down to clear his thoughts.

Sherlock watches him leave and sighs as the door closes behind him. He bows his head and stands there for a minute, tapping his middle finger against his thumb, dismayed. Then he takes a breath lifts his head, and goes into the kitchen to fetch the smoothie.

When he enters the bedroom, Joan looks up, expecting to see Ted, wondering what had taken him so long. When she sees Sherlock instead her forehead creases with worry.

"Where's Ted?" she asks.

Sherlock comes and sits next to her, holding out the smoothie. "He's gone for a walk."

"What?" Joan says, her frown deepening as she takes the smoothie. "Why?"

"I believe he needs some time."

"He shouldn't be on his feet."

"I am aware."

Joan shakes her head. Ted must be really upset.

"What did you say to him?"

Sherlock looks down at his hands and doesn't answer.

Joan leans toward him. "Sherlock..."

"I can't tell you," he tells her, looking up at her.

"Why not?"

"Because that is his prerogative."

Joan lowers her head a little, her eyes narrowed, trying to understand. "Is he okay?"

Sherlock looks away. "I certainly hope so."

There's approximately a zillion coffee shops nearby, but Ted doesn't really want to sit somewhere surrounded by people. So he ends up in Regent's Park, sitting on a bench near the water and watching people walk by or feeding ducks.

It's not quiet, but it's the right kind of noisy, and the smell of the grass and the trees soothes him. He doesn't even wear a watch, so he doesn't know how long he sits there, just trying to get his thoughts in order.

It's probably about half an hour or something like that before he realizes that he didn't bring anything, and Joan must be worried about him. Not just about his feelings and the fact he just walked out, but he did recently get kidnapped in broad daylight, so he should probably let them know he's okay.

He asks a lady to borrow a phone, and then realizes he doesn't actually know either of their numbers by heart. So he just texts his own phone and hopes they see it.

Hi, this is Ted. Just wanted to let you know I'm okay. I'm in the park. I'll be back soon.

Joan tries not to be concerned about Ted's safety, seeing as Rupert is in jail and Moriarty has declared Ted to be off-limits. She can't completely banish that worry, though, so it joins her anxiety about his physical and emotional welfare. She doesn't know how to feel about Sherlock's role in all of this, since he won't tell her what was said or what's going on.

Sherlock doesn't like the position he's in, unable to be honest with his partner and best friend, knowing he's caused distress to a man he's come to care about quite a bit. He and Watson sit in a worried silence, Watson's smoothie sitting untouched on the nightstand.

Sherlock hears the text alert, and finds Ted's phone. He reads the text, then shows it to Watson, who exhales a sigh of relief.

It's probably another half an hour or so before Ted starts heading back. After calming down, and then making sure the two of them back at the apartment weren't too worried about him, he can at least sit and try to process a bit.

He is at least trying to be careful about how he's walking, making sure he's not putting weight on his leg or messing up his spine. Apart from the knot in his stomach from the anxiety, physically he feels alright.

He didn't bring any keys either, so once he gets back to the apartment, he has to ring the doorbell.

When the bell rings, Sherlock goes to answer it. He sees Ted and steps to the side, holding the door open. He imagines Ted will likely want to go straight to Watson in the bedroom.

Ted gives Sherlock a somewhat sheepish smile once he opens the door. He's right in his assumption though, and Ted heads inside towards the bedroom.

"Hi. Sorry for disappearing," he says with a reassuring smile, going to sit down on the bed. He does at least look calmer now, if a little embarrassed and guilty for running away.

She's relieved to see him and worried about whatever it was that caused him to flee.

"It's okay," she says, reaching for him.

He takes her hand as she sits down, giving it a squeeze.

"You haven't shouted too much at Sherlock, right?" he asks. Ted did sort of blame him for this earlier. And sure, it's his doing, but not in a bad way.

"No shouting," she says. "I asked him what he said to make you upset. He wouldn't tell me."

It's interesting that he's defending Sherlock after having been clearly angry at him earlier.

Ted smiles softly and nods a bit. "He just... opened my eyes to some stuff," he explains quietly. "And everything's okay, but.. I'm not really ready to talk about it yet. Is that okay?"

He's trying to be as open and non-defensive as he can be. But he knows if he's gonna try to actually tell her about it, it won't be as nice a conversation.

"Of course," Joan says gently, squeezing his hand. She's still curious and more than a little worried, but she's not going to force him to talk if he isn't comfortable.

Ted smiles, and lets go of her hand so he can lean in and give her a proper warm hug.

"Sorry that I worried you," he says, squeezing her gently. "I just needed some time alone."

She squeezes him back.

"It's okay," she says. "We've gone through so much. It's okay to take some time alone."

Ted nods in agreement, pulling back to look at her. "You just let me know if you'd like me to get out of your hair sometime as well," he adds with a smile. "Especially since we've been literally watching you day and night."

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