trashchildren | For Joan

Ted nods. "I'll find somewhere to hide it in the apartment," he answers. He pauses, considering. "Can we text on it, or just calls?" He guesses texts are easier to trace, and if they are both at home and able to use the phones, it would be nicer to just talk anyway.

"We can text," she says. "Although we might want to limit it to letting each other know when the best time is to call."

She looks at him, her heart at once aching and so full of love. She wants to kiss him, one more time. She wants to say she loves him, one more time. But the truth of the matter is that there is no such thing as one more time. No kiss or declaration of love that is enough. That will ever be enough.

"I'll see you soon," she says instead, knowing that Ted knows how deeply she loves him.

Ted nods, having much the same dilemma.

"Travel safe," he says softly. It feels like such a mundane thing to say in this situation, but in a way that's kind of nice. And it's just another way of telling someone you care about them - be safe and take care of yourself.

"I will," she says, knowing exactly how much care is behind those words.

She takes a step backwards toward the door, eyes on his. She takes a breath. Then she looks away and turns, and heads to the door.

The moment she turns away, Ted crumples just a little bit, almost imperceptibly, so sad to see her go. He watches her and keeps staring at the door long after she's gone.

It doesn't help that this feels so much like his divorce in certain ways. Him giving her permission to leave, even as it pains them both, because they know it's for the best. Him watching her go, off to board a plane to go halfway across the world. His eyes glassy with unshed tears.

But it's not like that. Because Joan still loves him. Joan wants to come back to him. She's only doing this so they can be together.

He sits back on the bed, lying down, taking a deep breath and just... stares up at the ceiling. His heart aching.

Joan's heart aches too, from the moment she turns away to leave. It aches as Beard accompanies her back to 221B to get her bags and to retrieve two burner phones from the box of them tucked away in a closet. She programs the numbers of the other phone into both of them, labeling them as Leibniz and Jessica, smiling sadly as she does so. When she gets back to the cab she slips Beard the phone to give to Ted. She leans against him again as they ride to the airport, and he takes the cab back to London, leaving her all alone. She aches as she waits for the plane, aches as she crosses the Atlantic, aches as she returns to the Brownstone, the home silent and dark.

The first thing she does is use her phone to text Ted's phone. When he turns it on it will pop up as being from Jessica.

Safe. Text when you get this and I'll call.

Then she throws herself into the work. She stays at home, not wanting to miss his text once he's out of the hospital, so she gets files online and anything physical delivered to the house. Gregson and Bell ask Sherlock what happened, and Sherlock tells them the partial truth that is their cover story. They're sympathetic, having seen what she went through when Andrew died. They bring her food and then give her space, which is exactly what she needs, if not for the reasons they think.

Ted is on her mind constantly, more so as time passes and she wonders when she'll hear from him. She knows she has to be patient, but it's so hard.

It's difficult, but it's not as hard as it could be. Ted has a constant stream of visitors, and it's easy enough to let himself be distracted by them. Even if Joan pops into his mind pretty often, and he'll get this distant look for a moment.

Beard is a huge help, as usual, helping spread the information that Ted and Joan has broken up, so that Ted doesn't have to talk about it much. He doesn't have to fake being sad, or fake missing Joan. But no one's encouragement actually help, since they're all addressing the fake problem rather than the real one. He feels a little bit bad pretending, especially to Rebecca and Keeley, but it can't really be helped. He doesn't want to risk anything.

He also finds himself thinking about Turner Chapman more than he expected. And not in a post-traumatic way, where he's feeling upset or has nightmares - though there is some of that too. He just wonders about the man. How he came to be where he is now.

Ted knows he probably won't be able to fully close that chapter until he's completely healed and the investigation and then the trial is over, and Turner is sentenced. He knows it'll be a sore spot for a while, something he'll have to grapple with from time to time. He just wishes he understood more.

But all he can really think about for the time being, is wanting to go home and talk to Joan. He doesn't worry too much about her, considering no news is probably good news. If something had happened to her, there'd be less point in keeping it all a secret (or maybe they'd risk telling him even if there still was), and Sherlock would presumably tell him.

Two day pass, painstakingly slow, and he finally goes home on Friday evening. Beard and a nurse/physical therapist named Shaun help him get set up, making sure he has everything. Shaun will come by and check on Ted daily and help him with his recovery. Rebecca's paying for it, of course. It feels only a little bit unnecessary, but Ted's used to the people around him having all kinds of medical care just to stay in shape, so it doesn't bother him too much.

And then at last he's alone, and Ted can dig out the phone from its hiding spot and check it. He slumps with relief at the text from 'Jessica'.

Home.

Joan has been home the whole time, so she's been able to keep the phone on her person, waiting for the text. She's staring at the wall above the fireplace, where she's put up photos and documents and index cards with her thoughts written on them, when the phone goes DING! She immediately digs it out and sighs with relief when she sees the text from Leibniz. She goes upstairs into her room and makes sure the blinds are down and the door closed before she goes to her contacts...or, more accurately, contact...and hits call.

She can't wait to hear his voice again. She's missed it so much.

Ted just sits there after he sends the text, staring at the phone. He almost jumps to his feet when it finally rings, which feels like an eternity, though it can only have been a minute or two later.

He picks up immediately. "Hi!" he greets excitedly, and it's obvious from his voice that he's grinning.

She can't help but grin in return, the happiness doubtless coming through in her tone.

"Hi! You're home! It's so good to hear your voice." She sits on her bed. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good, I'm all set up here, they've gotten me everything I need," he answers. "Got food for weeks probably, so if the zombie apocalypse comes, I can barricade the door and hold out for a good while," he jokes, chuckling. He feels giddy and silly all of a sudden, just so happy to hear her voice.

She laughs, loving the fact that he sounds so happy. Ted is frequently happy, but silly happy Ted is one of the best things in the world.

"Do you ever think it would be best if funeral directors just tie dead people's shoelaces together?" she says, lying down in bed and getting comfy. "Could save a lot of lives if the dead ever do rise up to destroy humanity."

Ted laughs, and barely even registers the ache from his ribs. He leans back in his chair, putting his feet up. "Do you think that would stop them? I mean, if we get the sort that burrow out of their graves, we're probably screwed anyway, right?"

"Possibly," she agrees, smiling, curling her arm up under her head. "At the very least it would be really funny. Night of the Living Dead would have been a completely different movie if the zombies spent the whole time tripping over their feet. Add in a soundtrack of Yakkity Sax and you've got a screwball comedy."

"There's probably a movie like that," Ted answers. "Have you seen Shaun of the Dead? It didn't have Yakkity Sax, but it did have Don't Stop Me Now."

After missing each other desperately for a couple days, this is probably the most inconsequential conversation they could be having, but honestly, that's what makes it so wonderful. Joan's probably dealing with enough things of consequence, and he's happy to be her light and silliness.

"I have! Great movie. And possibly the best use of a Queen song on the silver screen."

It feels good to just be silly together. It's the vocal equivalent of cuddling together on the couch, just enjoying each other's company. It makes her feel happy, the happiest she's felt since she left his hospital room.

She also knows, though, that eventually the conversation would turn to more serious things. So she's enjoying the silly while she can.

"Hmmm," Ted answers, considering that claim. "Yeah, no, probably. Though they do a cover of 'The Show Must Go On' in Moulin Rouge, and it's very appropriate, but that's more the dramatic route."

"Good point," she says with a smile.

There's a pause, a moment of silence, Joan just enjoying the feeling of happiness at hearing his voice.

"How are you?" she asks finally, softly, moving away from the silliness.

Ted sobers a little, but still with that warm glow of happiness inside.

"I miss you," he answers softly. It's the most pressing thing on his mind currently. "But I'm doing okay. I mean, all things considered, you know."

Things are obviously not exactly ideal. But he's picking himself up, and he's got people to help him do so.

"I miss you too," she replies, also feeling that soft glow of happiness even with the sadness of being apart. "I'm glad things are going well."

She knows he has an amazing support team that will help take care of him and see him through this. Of course, aside from Beard, they all think they broke up. She can't imagine Rebecca and Keeley are happy with her right now.

"Mmm... Michelle and Henry are going home on Sunday. So I've just been trying to spend as much time with him as possible," he shares quietly.

But of course he can't really do much, and his body being busy recovering means he's not exactly bursting with as much energy as he usually is. And they can't stay in London forever, Michelle has work and Henry has school. A full week of completely unplanned visit is already a lot.

She feels for him, knowing it can't be easy for Henry to leave and him to be left missing both of them.

"I'm glad you got to spend so much time with him. It's got to be hard that he's leaving, though."

"Yeah..." he answers, the sadness a bit more evident in his voice. There's not that much more to say about it than that, really.

"We're seeing the game tomorrow, though. Gonna be weird sitting up in the box," he says.

Gonna be weird for a lot of reasons. And there were definitely some concerns about whether he'd be up for it, and whether he'd end up hurting himself by getting excited (which, admittedly, is not a non-zero chance), but he absolutely insisted. He needs to be there for them, even if he can't be on the pitch.

"I bet the team is relieved that you're doing okay. What have you and Beard told them about what happened?"

She could see Ted wanting to be honest. She could also see him wanting to shield his team from the violent truth.

"We told them I was attacked," he answers seriously. "And I guess technically that it was a kidnapping, but sort of played down the severity of it. Like the how and the how long. And then the 'why' got out through the media, people putting two and two together. Turner had apparently been pretty vocal about his feelings."

He doesn't want them to know how bad it got for several reasons. For one thing, because it's horrifying, and they don't need to know. For another, he doesn't want them to pussyfoot around him.

And then... Well, it feels... private? And he thinks it messed with him more than he's fully aware of still, and he doesn't really want anyone else to know the details of all that.

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