It's absolutely relevant, and if it was just that she would be assessing him for the concussion he almost certainly has. But at the moment it's the hypothermic shock that concerns her.
"I'll let the medics know," she says, pulling the pants down his legs, hissing when she comes to his knees, both badly bruised and swollen. Then she goes to remove his shoes and socks and finds that his ankle is swollen even more. She will be surprised if it isn't broken. She tries to be as gentle as possible, but knows it's gonna hurt like hell.
It does. But again... He's been an athlete. He can deal with pain. Now Joan is here, he's neither scared nor helpless. It hurts, and it's awful, but he knows he's going to be okay.
It's weird to be out of his clothes. They'd started to feel glued to him, like a second layer of skin, rather than the source of the cold.
Now that his wet clothes are off him (save for his boxers, but Joan knows being stripped completely bare is likely to distress him) Joan stands up and yanks free the velcro straps fastening her bulletproof vest. She slips it off and drops it. It falls to the floor with a thud.
She's pulled off her shirt and is pulling down her pants when the SWAT officer comes down the stair carrying blankets. He stares at the near naked Ted and similarly near naked Joan.
"Ummm..."
"He needs to warm up," Joan says, not even pausing in her disrobing. "I need you to help me get him off that wet concrete. I'm pretty sure he can't walk."
She takes the blankets, finds a spot of concrete that's dry, and spreads them out, all three, into as soft and warm a base as she can manage. She goes over to join the officer to pick Ted up.
"His ribs are likely fractured," she tells the officer. "So you need to be gentle. You get his torso, I'll get his legs." She looks at Ted. "This is going to hurt. I'm so sorry." She nods to the officer, and together they lift him off the ground.
Ted is only half registering what's happening around him, laser-focused on Joan, and too out of it to be embarrassed about being in his underwear. (Though yeah, if he were fully naked, that might actually register.)
He nods a bit at Joan's warning, and tries to be as cooperative as he's capable in being carried.
It does hurt. A lot. It's not as sharp as being kicked, but in a way it's almost worse because it lasts longer. He can't stop himself from gasping in pain, screwing his eyes shut.
Once they set him down, he whimpers a little, then turns it into an angry growl. Not at them, just at the pain.
They lay him down as gently as possible in the middle of the blankets, and Joan immediately lies next to him, getting as much of her skin on his skin as possible, wrapping her arm around him and holding him close. He's so cold.
"Wrap the blankets around us," she orders the officer, who complies, pulling the blankets one by one, side by side, around them, tucking in the edges of each one before moving to the next.
"Everything's okay," she whispers to Ted as they're wrapped up together, gently rubbing his back to soothe and warm him. "I've got you."
There's definitely a surreal quality to all this, and it feels slightly ridiculous to Ted. But once Joan lies down next to him, he's not about to complain or question it.
She feels so good against him. He's not sure if it's the warmth or the familiarity and safety, or all of the above. But whatever it is, it's helping. He leans his head against hers, closing his eyes and just focusing on their closeness.
Joan closes her eyes as well, her head against his, tears slipping down her cheeks, her heart an aching mix of relief and fear and anguish and love.
He could have died. He was so close. He could still die, if this is too little, too late. If the head wound is worse than it appears, if his brain is bleeding, if there's some internal bleed from his beating that they don't find soon enough...he could die right here, or die in the ambulance, or in the hospital...
"I love you," she whispers, her breath hitching in a sob. If this is the only time she has to say it, then she has to say it. He needs to know.
He doesn't quite process those words as fully as he would otherwise, but they make him feel warm inside. It doesn't surprise him to hear it, at least not in the condition he's in. He knows it's true, he's known it every time she's looked at him, knows it because she's here to save him.
And all he can thinks is that she's crying and upset, and he wants to comfort her.
"Hey, it's okay.." he says, voice barely a whisper, and he turns his head a little to kiss her hair. "It's gonna be okay.."
It hurts a little when she holds him that tight, but he doesn't even care, because this is the first time he's felt safe in what feels like a very long time. They just hold each other, as Ted warms up little by little, and he ends up drifting. No longer struggling to stay awake or stay warm, knowing that he'll be taken care of.
That's how the paramedics find them, holding each other, wrapped up in three layers of blankets, Joan weeping and Ted asleep. They unwrap them and gently lead Joan away while they assess Ted. She stands back, watching. One of the officers hand her her clothes and she puts them on almost absent-mindedly, her eyes on Ted through the paramedics surrounding him.
He's woken up by people talking to him, and he's almost annoyed that they're disturbing the first rest he's had in forever. He doesn't quite realize it's so they can assess how bad off he is. They ask him a bunch of questions, which he answers with mild annoyance. Everyone's so urgent, and it's exhausting.
All the while he's just wondering where Joan is.
Once they seem satisfied he's not gonna die on the spot, they load him onto a stretcher, all wrapped up again. From there it's a blur as he's carried upstairs and outside. The sunlight hurts his eyes and he makes a face.
Nearby, Beard and Rebecca have been waiting anxiously. Rebecca's been crying, and Beard has a little bit too, though it's less evident with the lack of mascara. When he's carried outside, they both rush over.
It takes him a minute to recognize them as Rebecca says his name, but when he does, he smiles at them. "Hey guys.. Nice to see you," he says, sounding sleepy but surprisingly cheerful given the circumstances. "I'll talk to y'all later, I gotta go do a thing," he continues, as the paramedics usher Rebecca and Beard backwards and load Ted into to the ambulance.
Rebecca and Beard also watch, everyone standing in stunned silence until the ambulance turns a corner and disappears out of sight.
Then Rebecca approaches Joan, face as covered in tears as Joan's is, and for once not seeming particularly self-conscious about it. Beard's just a step behind her.
"Thank you so much for finding him," she says to Joan. She looks almost like she wants to hug her, but isn't quite sure how to go about it, or if they know each other well enough for it. "Just... Thank you."
Beard gives a silent but obvious nod of agreement behind her, also looking quite shaken, but relieved that Ted's alive and conscious enough to recognize them.
Rebecca looks surprised, but just for a moment, before she hugs back, rubbing Joan's back.
Ted's one of her best friends, and while she and Joan haven't spent that much time together, Ted has absolutely gushed about her during morning biscuits. Rebecca knows how much she means to him, and she's so grateful what what she's done for him, not just today, but in opening his heart up again after his divorce. She herself knows how difficult that can be.
"If you need anything, you know where to find us, alright?" Rebecca says quietly to Joan. As far as she's aware, Joan doesn't have the biggest support network in London, and wants to make sure she knows she's welcome in Richmond.
Rebecca herself will definitely need the comfort of Keeley later. Who'll surely need the comfort of Roy. They're all one big family, largely because of Ted.
Joan pulls back and gives Rebecca a faint, sad smile. "I do," she says softly. Ted brings people together, more that anyone Joan has ever known, and he loves these two people in front of her. She knows without a doubt that they're like family, and will be in her corner.
Beard doesn't expect it, but he hugs her back immediately, appreciating it. It's been an emotional day, and is likely to continue being so.
"So we're heading to the hospital?" he suggests, once they pull back from the hug. He's assuming everyone is going, maybe except for Sherlock. He might want to stick with the cops, following up on the kidnapper.
(Seeing the kidnapper while he was getting arrested made Beard's blood boil, and that hasn't lessened after seeing the state Ted was in.)
"Absolutely," she answers. This isn't over yet. Ted isn't completely out of the woods. But seeing him has been traumatic for everyone, and it seems important to take a moment to support each other.
"I'm sure the police will give all of us rides," she says, nodding toward where the officers are standing. "I just need a minute."
She goes to Sherlock, who is standing apart, respecting Joan's space.
"All right, Watson?" he says softly.
"Ask me again later," she says. She looks at the police car that has the suspect in the back, frowning, her own anger roiling beneath the surface.
"I need you to go to the station," she says. "Find out if he did this alone or if Moriarty sent him."
"That was my thought as well," he agrees. Then, softer. "I hope Ted's all right."
"Me too."
She gives Sherlock a glance, then heads toward the officers to get a ride to the hospital.
Ted is going through the endless stream of people who want to poke and prod at him, and all he wants to do is sleep for a month or so.
They do eventually seem to rule out him dying in the immediate future, which is encouraging. Even if he didn't know that he could've died until they tell him that he won't.
Then the police want to interview him, but Ted asks for Joan and the others first.
Joan has been on both sides of the ER waiting room experience, both as a doctor coming to update a family in good and bad situations, and as someone waiting to hear news and praying it isn't bad. She's sitting with Beard beside her and Rebecca up and pacing. She can't help but play through the possible scenarios that might be going on behind those doors, from simple tests to complex surgeries, from Ted resting to Ted coding.
"Joan?"
She looks up to see a doctor looking around the waiting room. Joan rises.
"I'm Joan."
The woman comes over, and Beard and Rebecca stand on either side of Joan.
"Mr. Lasso is stable," she says. "He has a concussion and a number of fractures, but there's no serious bleeding."
Joan sighs with relief, her body relaxing. "Can I see him?"
"You can. Follow me."
The three of them follow the doctor, through hallways lined with rooms of seriously injured and sick people. When they get to Ted's room, Joan pauses at the doorway, her breath catching in her throat.
"Hey," she says softly.
Edited (Pressed the button by accident!) 2021-07-04 20:08 (UTC)
"Hey!" Ted answers, with the kind of soft happy surprise that might be more appropriate to less dramatic situations than this.
"Come on in," he says. He's still beat up, and his brain is definitely still recovering, but he's sitting up, and apart from his bruises, his skin color is more or less back to normal. His broken leg has also been wrapped up, as has his wrist, though there it's just surface damage. He definitely looks worse for wear, but now in a patched up way at least. They should be glad he's wearing a shirt though...
Beard and Rebecca respectfully keeps behind Joan, but Rebecca puts her hands in front of her mouth when she sees him.
"I will," she says, smiling warmly as he lifts his arms to hug her. She carefully wraps her arms around him and rests her chin on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze.
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"I'll let the medics know," she says, pulling the pants down his legs, hissing when she comes to his knees, both badly bruised and swollen. Then she goes to remove his shoes and socks and finds that his ankle is swollen even more. She will be surprised if it isn't broken. She tries to be as gentle as possible, but knows it's gonna hurt like hell.
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It's weird to be out of his clothes. They'd started to feel glued to him, like a second layer of skin, rather than the source of the cold.
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She's pulled off her shirt and is pulling down her pants when the SWAT officer comes down the stair carrying blankets. He stares at the near naked Ted and similarly near naked Joan.
"Ummm..."
"He needs to warm up," Joan says, not even pausing in her disrobing. "I need you to help me get him off that wet concrete. I'm pretty sure he can't walk."
She takes the blankets, finds a spot of concrete that's dry, and spreads them out, all three, into as soft and warm a base as she can manage. She goes over to join the officer to pick Ted up.
"His ribs are likely fractured," she tells the officer. "So you need to be gentle. You get his torso, I'll get his legs." She looks at Ted. "This is going to hurt. I'm so sorry." She nods to the officer, and together they lift him off the ground.
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He nods a bit at Joan's warning, and tries to be as cooperative as he's capable in being carried.
It does hurt. A lot. It's not as sharp as being kicked, but in a way it's almost worse because it lasts longer. He can't stop himself from gasping in pain, screwing his eyes shut.
Once they set him down, he whimpers a little, then turns it into an angry growl. Not at them, just at the pain.
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"Wrap the blankets around us," she orders the officer, who complies, pulling the blankets one by one, side by side, around them, tucking in the edges of each one before moving to the next.
"Everything's okay," she whispers to Ted as they're wrapped up together, gently rubbing his back to soothe and warm him. "I've got you."
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She feels so good against him. He's not sure if it's the warmth or the familiarity and safety, or all of the above. But whatever it is, it's helping. He leans his head against hers, closing his eyes and just focusing on their closeness.
"I know.." he whispers back.
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He could have died. He was so close. He could still die, if this is too little, too late. If the head wound is worse than it appears, if his brain is bleeding, if there's some internal bleed from his beating that they don't find soon enough...he could die right here, or die in the ambulance, or in the hospital...
"I love you," she whispers, her breath hitching in a sob. If this is the only time she has to say it, then she has to say it. He needs to know.
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And all he can thinks is that she's crying and upset, and he wants to comfort her.
"Hey, it's okay.." he says, voice barely a whisper, and he turns his head a little to kiss her hair. "It's gonna be okay.."
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All the while he's just wondering where Joan is.
Once they seem satisfied he's not gonna die on the spot, they load him onto a stretcher, all wrapped up again. From there it's a blur as he's carried upstairs and outside. The sunlight hurts his eyes and he makes a face.
Nearby, Beard and Rebecca have been waiting anxiously. Rebecca's been crying, and Beard has a little bit too, though it's less evident with the lack of mascara. When he's carried outside, they both rush over.
It takes him a minute to recognize them as Rebecca says his name, but when he does, he smiles at them. "Hey guys.. Nice to see you," he says, sounding sleepy but surprisingly cheerful given the circumstances. "I'll talk to y'all later, I gotta go do a thing," he continues, as the paramedics usher Rebecca and Beard backwards and load Ted into to the ambulance.
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"Ma'am, please step back."
"I'm his girlfriend..."
"We need all the space in the ambulance to take care of him."
"But..."
Then there's a hand on her arm, and Joan looks over in surprise to see Sherlock holding her arm. He hardly ever touches her outside of emergencies.
"Let them work, Watson," he says softly.
Joan bites her lip, and steps back.
"We'll take good care of him," the EMT promises. "He'll be at St. Bart's."
With that the paramedic hops into the ambulance and closes the door, and it races off, sirens blaring.
Joan watches it go, then lowers her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.
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Then Rebecca approaches Joan, face as covered in tears as Joan's is, and for once not seeming particularly self-conscious about it. Beard's just a step behind her.
"Thank you so much for finding him," she says to Joan. She looks almost like she wants to hug her, but isn't quite sure how to go about it, or if they know each other well enough for it. "Just... Thank you."
Beard gives a silent but obvious nod of agreement behind her, also looking quite shaken, but relieved that Ted's alive and conscious enough to recognize them.
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So instead she's the one who initiates the hug, wrapping her arms around Rebecca in a warm embrace, tears still coursing down her face.
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Ted's one of her best friends, and while she and Joan haven't spent that much time together, Ted has absolutely gushed about her during morning biscuits. Rebecca knows how much she means to him, and she's so grateful what what she's done for him, not just today, but in opening his heart up again after his divorce. She herself knows how difficult that can be.
"If you need anything, you know where to find us, alright?" Rebecca says quietly to Joan. As far as she's aware, Joan doesn't have the biggest support network in London, and wants to make sure she knows she's welcome in Richmond.
Rebecca herself will definitely need the comfort of Keeley later. Who'll surely need the comfort of Roy. They're all one big family, largely because of Ted.
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She goes to Beard and hugs him, too.
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"So we're heading to the hospital?" he suggests, once they pull back from the hug. He's assuming everyone is going, maybe except for Sherlock. He might want to stick with the cops, following up on the kidnapper.
(Seeing the kidnapper while he was getting arrested made Beard's blood boil, and that hasn't lessened after seeing the state Ted was in.)
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"I'm sure the police will give all of us rides," she says, nodding toward where the officers are standing. "I just need a minute."
She goes to Sherlock, who is standing apart, respecting Joan's space.
"All right, Watson?" he says softly.
"Ask me again later," she says. She looks at the police car that has the suspect in the back, frowning, her own anger roiling beneath the surface.
"I need you to go to the station," she says. "Find out if he did this alone or if Moriarty sent him."
"That was my thought as well," he agrees. Then, softer. "I hope Ted's all right."
"Me too."
She gives Sherlock a glance, then heads toward the officers to get a ride to the hospital.
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They do eventually seem to rule out him dying in the immediate future, which is encouraging. Even if he didn't know that he could've died until they tell him that he won't.
Then the police want to interview him, but Ted asks for Joan and the others first.
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"Joan?"
She looks up to see a doctor looking around the waiting room. Joan rises.
"I'm Joan."
The woman comes over, and Beard and Rebecca stand on either side of Joan.
"Mr. Lasso is stable," she says. "He has a concussion and a number of fractures, but there's no serious bleeding."
Joan sighs with relief, her body relaxing. "Can I see him?"
"You can. Follow me."
The three of them follow the doctor, through hallways lined with rooms of seriously injured and sick people. When they get to Ted's room, Joan pauses at the doorway, her breath catching in her throat.
"Hey," she says softly.
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"Come on in," he says. He's still beat up, and his brain is definitely still recovering, but he's sitting up, and apart from his bruises, his skin color is more or less back to normal. His broken leg has also been wrapped up, as has his wrist, though there it's just surface damage. He definitely looks worse for wear, but now in a patched up way at least. They should be glad he's wearing a shirt though...
Beard and Rebecca respectfully keeps behind Joan, but Rebecca puts her hands in front of her mouth when she sees him.
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"Can I hug you?" She doesn't want to hurt him.
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He is definitely going to hug each and every one of them, but he's reserving a long one for Joan first.
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"I'm glad you're okay," she whispers.
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