Ted watches her go, feeling deeply sad about everything. He knows they'll work through it, but it doesn't make it any less difficult.
He sighs to himself, then goes down to the office to grab his stuff and walk home - the one in Richmond, in this case. He knows Joan will likely be over in B anyway, but he wants to be close to the pub, the comfort of familiar surroundings, and maybe a dinner with Beard, if he's not distracted by Jane. (Apparently them 'going as friends' to that event had mended their relationship for the time being.)
Even if today there's a chance of him getting some rough comments from people in the pub, given the loss. But he's used to that much.
Joan returns to 221B and throws herself into the work. Sherlock sees how sad she is but he doesn't say anything, knowing that the best thing to do for her is to proceed with the case. They've been after this murderer for most of the week, so there's a lot of staring at evidence and trying to see something in it that they haven't seen before. It's midnight when Joan suddenly realizes one of the CCTV images had been altered, which led them to question why and who would have the power to do that, which led to them following the trail back to a uniformed officer in the evidence department at the Yard, who had a secret relationship with the victim and killed them to cover it up.
It's four AM when Joan returns from the police station. She goes to 221A, and she sees Ted's coat isn't on the rack. He's not there.
She goes into the bedroom, crawls into bed alone, and holds his pillow, as tears silently slip down her cheeks.
Late the next morning, she gets a devastating phone call.
Ted goes to bed a lot earlier, but he also feels awfully sad and alone as he does so. But he searches himself, and finds that his anger has mostly subsided. There's still something that bothers him, which he's still trying to pinpoint, but...
He starts to consider how nice it might be that Joan knows - even if they don't talk about it, she'll be able to understand things related to that. She would, as she had said, be able to check on him.
It was only ever motivated by love, he knows that, and a large part of his anger and hurt was simply from having to confront that issue without any sort of choice of his own.
The next morning, Ted's at the office, having gotten up early to watch the game film. He's alone at the office when the call comes, and he frowns. Sherlock usually texts. And he hasn't gotten anything from Joan. He's immediately worried.
"Hey, what's up?" he answers the phone, unusually straight to the point.
Ted pauses to process that for a second. He doesn't ask if Joan's okay - if she were hurt physically, Sherlock would've said that first, and if she weren't upset, then Sherlock wouldn't have called.
"I'll come right away," he says, already grabbing his things. "Where is she, is she at yours?"
"Yes, she is upstairs. I haven't heard her move for some time."
That alarms Sherlock more than anything. Usually when something goes wrong, Watson does something. He would expect her to at least be packing. But she's up in her room with the door closed, and utterly silent.
That definitely is alarming. What's even worse is that Joan didn't call Ted herself. You'd think something like that, she'd call him even if their situation was a bit tense. But... actually, he's not that surprised that she didn't.
"I'll be there soon," he says, already on his way out, jacket and backpack in hand. "Thank you for letting me know."
He'll be there as quick as a cab can take him, practically running just to get there a little faster. He texts Beard in the cab, says he has an emergency. She'll probably have to fly back to the States... Ted wonders if he can get some days off to go with her.
When Sherlock hangs up he goes up to Watson's room, and stands there for a long moment, his hand against her door, not knowing what to do. He doesn't know how to comfort his friend and partner, the person he loves more than anyone. She had told him at one time that just being there for someone was enough, but it feels wrong to open the door, or even to knock.
So after that moment he goes downstairs to wait for Ted.
Ted gets there as fast as he can, thanking and tipping the cab driver for driving quickly. He's already pulling the keys out of his pocket, not even wanting to wait for Sherlock to open the door.
He hurries inside, and almost bumps into Sherlock. "Hey. Is she still upstairs?" he asks.
He knows it's not an emergency that actually requires this level of urgency, but it sure feels like it. He doesn't want her to have to spend a moment alone more than she needs to.
Sherlock is actually fairly impressed by how quickly Ted has managed to get there, but he's not surprised. He knows Ted would do anything for Watson.
He steps aside, gesturing up the stairs with a nod and not a word. There really isn't anything to be said. He knows Ted will take care of Watson. He trusts him with her.
Ted goes up the stairs two at a time, though he slows as he gets to the door, not wanting to stomp and burst right in there.
He pauses, taking a breath to steady himself, then knocks gently. "Joan? It's Ted," he says, waiting. For all he knows, she might actually want to be alone.
Joan is sitting inside the room, on the bed, in the dark, staring at the floor. She hears the knock and hears Ted's voice, and for a long moment she's silent, the seconds just slipping past her as she's unable to catch hold. Finally she takes a breath and manages to form a word.
"Yes," she says softly, just barely loud enough for him to hear. It's all she can manage at the moment.
The long pause really worries him, though he tries to tell himself she might just be asleep. But then she answers, and Ted takes that as invitation to enter, so he opens the door. And she's just sitting there on the bed, in the dark. It makes his heart hurt.
"Hey sweetie," he says softly, letting the door stay open as he steps inside, so at least some light can come in. He goes and sits down next to her, moving gently, and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He doesn't say anything else for the moment.
She doesn't look up as he comes in, and for a moment she is completely still as he wraps an arm around her shoulders.
Then she leans against him, and rests her head on his shoulder.
She knows Sherlock must have called him. Which means that he must know what's going on. She doesn't need to say anything, which is good, because she's not sure she can actually say the words.
Ted kisses the top of her head and rests his head gently against hers, calmly stroking at her arm. It breaks his heart to see her like this, not even trying to keep up a brave face.
"I'm so sorry," he says softly. He's just going to sit here with her for as long as she needs. He thinks about saying something more, but there's nothing really to say, nothing that could make it better. He knows this isn't something he can fix, so he's just going to be present, someone for her to lean on, both physically and metaphorically.
She can't put on any sort of face right now. It's one of the reasons she's in here, shut away, in the dark, where no one can see her. She's utterly raw and vulnerable, and she can't let herself be seen like this. In a way she's just like Ted...having to be strong, in control, the helper and not the one desperately in need.
But she's let Ted in. She knows he'll protect her. That he'll love her even when she falls apart.
She pulls away from him, but only to crawl onto the bed and lie down on her side. She touches his arm, wanting him to lie down with her.
For a moment he's not sure whether she wants him to leave or not, the way she's pulling away, but then she reaches for his arm, and he gives a soft (and incredibly sad) smile and nods.
He kicks off his shoes and peels off his jacket, leaving both on the floor as he crawls into bed with her, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you," he murmurs quietly, because he hasn't said it enough lately.
She just nestles in his arms at first, letting him hold her, feeling achingly empty, like she has somehow ceased to exist, or maybe that the world has ceased to exist. He's the only thing holding her together right now.
Those words cause a small tremor, a threatened sob that doesn't quite materialize. They were fighting before this. He was angry with her. She has no idea if he still is. Yet he's here, his arms around her, whispering his love to her.
There's another tremor, emotion beginning to rise within her, and this time she does sob. And after that the dam bursts, and she buries her face in his chest and cries, her body shuddering with long, deep sobs.
Ted holds onto her tightly, rubbing her back as she cries, just trying to be there, something solid she can hold onto to protect her. Ted almost starts crying a little bit himself, so desperately sad for her.
"Shh, it's okay, I'm here, I've got you," he whispers, kissing her hair again, even though everything is far from okay. "It's gonna be alright, I promise.." he continues, just whispers gentle reassurances, the words not even mattering as much as the fact he's saying them.
His arms, his caresses, his kisses, his words, they all surround her, hold her close and warm, just letting her fall apart and be broken for a while. She has no idea how she is ever going to be whole again, but she knows that Ted will hold and cherish all her pieces for as long as it takes.
Her sobs finally begin to wane as she runs out of strength, runs out of tears. She just lies in his arms, her breaths shuddering, his shirt tear-soaked.
"You didn't even get to meet her," she whispers, and she sobs all over again, even though it feels like there can't possibly be anything left.
"I know.." he answers, his heart breaking all over again, squeezing her tight for a moment.
He would've loved to have met Joan's mom. He'd already been mentally planning for the summer, they were both gonna take lots of time off to visit friends and family, introduce each other to everyone, see each other's hometowns... Now there's one very important person back there less to visit.
"And she didn't...get to meet you," she sobs. "She...she would have loved you."
Joan's mom could be difficult and controlling and judgmental and disapproving, and things lately had been complicated with her advancing Alzheimer's, but she knows that Ted would have won her over. Ted would have made her smile, would have made her laugh, it would have been beautiful.
She sobs harder, her body shaking, strength and tears being wrung out of her.
Ted knows that pain. And this isn't years of difference, this is maybe a few months, before they would've been able to meet. If only there had been more warning, they could've flown out there, and Joan could've been there for it, not half a world away.
"I know, sweetie.." he whispers, holding onto her and wishing desperately there was more he could do.
He imagines Sherlock feels much the same. Maybe he's even listening, with how Ted's left the door open. Ted knows it must be killing him too, being helpless while Joan is hurting so much.
Sherlock cannot help but listen. He's sitting down in the living room, ramrod straight, wringing his hands, his sharp senses making it impossible to not hear Watson weeping. Joan doesn't cry. Not around him, or around anyone. Ted is, as far as Sherlock is aware, the only exception.
Sherlock also has met Mary Watson. She's been to the Brownstone. When Watson discovered that her mother had progressing dementia but Mary refused to see a doctor, it was Sherlock that convinced her. She was above all Watson's mother, but she was a good person at heart. Someone Sherlock was grateful to, for seeing how much Watson loved what Sherlock did, and encouraging Watson to become a detective.
Joan finally quiets again, just breathing, with the occasional little shiver in her breath.
After Joan's been quiet for a while, Ted finally pulls away a little bit, just enough to look at her and gently wipe away her tears.
"Have you eaten anything today?" he asks softly. Not just to be able to do something, but because he knows being upset like this takes a lot out of you, and she's only going to feel worse if she ends up accidentally starving herself.
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He sighs to himself, then goes down to the office to grab his stuff and walk home - the one in Richmond, in this case. He knows Joan will likely be over in B anyway, but he wants to be close to the pub, the comfort of familiar surroundings, and maybe a dinner with Beard, if he's not distracted by Jane. (Apparently them 'going as friends' to that event had mended their relationship for the time being.)
Even if today there's a chance of him getting some rough comments from people in the pub, given the loss. But he's used to that much.
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It's four AM when Joan returns from the police station. She goes to 221A, and she sees Ted's coat isn't on the rack. He's not there.
She goes into the bedroom, crawls into bed alone, and holds his pillow, as tears silently slip down her cheeks.
Late the next morning, she gets a devastating phone call.
Ted's phone buzzes around noon. It's Sherlock.
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He starts to consider how nice it might be that Joan knows - even if they don't talk about it, she'll be able to understand things related to that. She would, as she had said, be able to check on him.
It was only ever motivated by love, he knows that, and a large part of his anger and hurt was simply from having to confront that issue without any sort of choice of his own.
The next morning, Ted's at the office, having gotten up early to watch the game film. He's alone at the office when the call comes, and he frowns. Sherlock usually texts. And he hasn't gotten anything from Joan. He's immediately worried.
"Hey, what's up?" he answers the phone, unusually straight to the point.
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"Watson's mother died last night."
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"I'll come right away," he says, already grabbing his things. "Where is she, is she at yours?"
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That alarms Sherlock more than anything. Usually when something goes wrong, Watson does something. He would expect her to at least be packing. But she's up in her room with the door closed, and utterly silent.
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"I'll be there soon," he says, already on his way out, jacket and backpack in hand. "Thank you for letting me know."
He'll be there as quick as a cab can take him, practically running just to get there a little faster. He texts Beard in the cab, says he has an emergency. She'll probably have to fly back to the States... Ted wonders if he can get some days off to go with her.
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So after that moment he goes downstairs to wait for Ted.
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He hurries inside, and almost bumps into Sherlock. "Hey. Is she still upstairs?" he asks.
He knows it's not an emergency that actually requires this level of urgency, but it sure feels like it. He doesn't want her to have to spend a moment alone more than she needs to.
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He steps aside, gesturing up the stairs with a nod and not a word. There really isn't anything to be said. He knows Ted will take care of Watson. He trusts him with her.
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He pauses, taking a breath to steady himself, then knocks gently. "Joan? It's Ted," he says, waiting. For all he knows, she might actually want to be alone.
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"Yes," she says softly, just barely loud enough for him to hear. It's all she can manage at the moment.
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"Hey sweetie," he says softly, letting the door stay open as he steps inside, so at least some light can come in. He goes and sits down next to her, moving gently, and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He doesn't say anything else for the moment.
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Then she leans against him, and rests her head on his shoulder.
She knows Sherlock must have called him. Which means that he must know what's going on. She doesn't need to say anything, which is good, because she's not sure she can actually say the words.
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"I'm so sorry," he says softly. He's just going to sit here with her for as long as she needs. He thinks about saying something more, but there's nothing really to say, nothing that could make it better. He knows this isn't something he can fix, so he's just going to be present, someone for her to lean on, both physically and metaphorically.
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But she's let Ted in. She knows he'll protect her. That he'll love her even when she falls apart.
She pulls away from him, but only to crawl onto the bed and lie down on her side. She touches his arm, wanting him to lie down with her.
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He kicks off his shoes and peels off his jacket, leaving both on the floor as he crawls into bed with her, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you," he murmurs quietly, because he hasn't said it enough lately.
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Those words cause a small tremor, a threatened sob that doesn't quite materialize. They were fighting before this. He was angry with her. She has no idea if he still is. Yet he's here, his arms around her, whispering his love to her.
There's another tremor, emotion beginning to rise within her, and this time she does sob. And after that the dam bursts, and she buries her face in his chest and cries, her body shuddering with long, deep sobs.
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"Shh, it's okay, I'm here, I've got you," he whispers, kissing her hair again, even though everything is far from okay. "It's gonna be alright, I promise.." he continues, just whispers gentle reassurances, the words not even mattering as much as the fact he's saying them.
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Her sobs finally begin to wane as she runs out of strength, runs out of tears. She just lies in his arms, her breaths shuddering, his shirt tear-soaked.
"You didn't even get to meet her," she whispers, and she sobs all over again, even though it feels like there can't possibly be anything left.
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He would've loved to have met Joan's mom. He'd already been mentally planning for the summer, they were both gonna take lots of time off to visit friends and family, introduce each other to everyone, see each other's hometowns... Now there's one very important person back there less to visit.
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Joan's mom could be difficult and controlling and judgmental and disapproving, and things lately had been complicated with her advancing Alzheimer's, but she knows that Ted would have won her over. Ted would have made her smile, would have made her laugh, it would have been beautiful.
She sobs harder, her body shaking, strength and tears being wrung out of her.
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"I know, sweetie.." he whispers, holding onto her and wishing desperately there was more he could do.
He imagines Sherlock feels much the same. Maybe he's even listening, with how Ted's left the door open. Ted knows it must be killing him too, being helpless while Joan is hurting so much.
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Sherlock also has met Mary Watson. She's been to the Brownstone. When Watson discovered that her mother had progressing dementia but Mary refused to see a doctor, it was Sherlock that convinced her. She was above all Watson's mother, but she was a good person at heart. Someone Sherlock was grateful to, for seeing how much Watson loved what Sherlock did, and encouraging Watson to become a detective.
Joan finally quiets again, just breathing, with the occasional little shiver in her breath.
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"Have you eaten anything today?" he asks softly. Not just to be able to do something, but because he knows being upset like this takes a lot out of you, and she's only going to feel worse if she ends up accidentally starving herself.
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