trashchildren | For Joan

Sherlock steps forward and takes hold of Ted's arm, both to steady him and to stop him from following through with the very understandable urge to wake Watson up. He had felt it himself earlier, but knew that it wouldn't go well, and that it was more important to learn how long she was seizing. Still, it's hard for him as well to watch his partner and best friend twitching like that, and his stricken expression shows it.

The doctor looks over and taps a finger to her lips to warn them to be quiet.

Ted glances over at Sherlock, who looks like Ted feels. He shifts anxiously in place, pressing his hands together in front of his mouth, then runs a hand through his hair.

It's awful, and every second feels like an eternity, and Ted can feel himself tearing up. He would've noticed this, surely.

Like last time, the twitching lasts about a minute before it subsides, and Joan continues to sleep undisturbed.

The doctor comes over to Ted and Sherlock.

"So..." she whispers. "As you can probably guess, this confirms the seizure. This came in stage 1 of her sleep cycle, which is common. It's likely she's had similar episodes before, but it's possible they were smaller and went unnoticed. Either way, it is possible this will eventually resolve itself as her body recovers from the nerve damage caused by cyanide intoxication. In the meantime, though, I will prescribe her anti-seizure medication. I would recommend Miss Watson be admitted for observation, but if the two of you believe you can keep an eye on her 24 hours a day for the next three days or so, she can stay here." She spreads her hands. "Any questions?"

Ted desperately tries to process what he's being told, but his brain is working painfully slow in between all the panic and the worry. 'Possible' it will resolve itself. Not 'probable' or 'likely'.

He takes a deep breath. "Uh," he answers, when she asks if they have questions. "Wh- what do we do if it happens again?"

The doctor nods at the question. "Mr. Holmes knows how to get in touch with me. If it happens again, let me know and I'll adjust her dosage or try another medication. Now, the greatest danger of these sorts of seizures are the possibility of arrested breathing. If that happens, in most cases the patient will resume breathing if rolled onto their side. If that does not happen, and the arrest lasts for longer than 30 seconds, call 999 and begin rescue breathing. All right?"

"She could stop breathing?" Ted asks in a loud whisper that definitely approaches on panicked.

The idea that he could look away for, what, a minute, and she could stop breathing, it-- It's absolutely terrifying. Ted doesn't know what to do with himself.

"It's possible," the doctor says, being simultaneously gentle and honest. "Unlikely, but possible. Once we get her on the proper dosage of anti-seizure medication, we can be confident it won't happen. That's why those three days of monitoring are so important." She looks from Ted to Sherlock. "Do you feel comfortable with watching her?"

"Absolutely," Sherlock says, looking at Ted.

Okay, so, once she has proper medication, that won't happen. So at least he doesn't need to be indefinitely worried about that. That's something, but right now it only does so much to reassure him.

Ted doesn't answer immediately, looking between the two of them. Of course he's fine with watching her. And he's probably going to be doing that regardless of whether she's in the hospital or at home. But they missed this. What if they miss something else?

Sherlock can tell Ted is freaking out. He reaches out and puts a gentle hand on Ted's upper arm.

"We're not going to let anything happen to her," he says, meeting his eyes.

Ted looks at Sherlock, and tries to take in the reassurances. He appreciates the comfort, because it's sorely needed right now.

After a moment he nods a bit, unsure at first but then more confident. "I mean.. Yeah, of course we're going to watch her."

Sherlock nods, squeezing Ted's arm before letting go to turn back to the doctor.

Dr. Bergen nods as well. "All right. Let's wake Miss Watson."

"Perhaps Ted would like to be the one to wake her," Sherlock suggests, looking back at Ted.

Ted nods appreciatively, as yes, he would very much like that. Though he has to take a moment to take another deep breath, and make sure he isn't looking quite so teary and distressed. He carefully limps over to the bed, and sits down next to Joan, taking her hand. "Hey, sweetie..." he says, gently stirring her.

It takes a moment before Joan stirs. She opens her eyes and blinks blearily at Ted. "Hey," she says. She notices worry in his expression and she frowns faintly. She looks over to Sherlock and then the doctor.

Crap.

"It happened again, didn't it."

Ted nods softly, and strokes her hand with his thumb.

"But doctor Bergen's going to prescribe you medicine, and we're gonna keep an eye on you and make sure you're alright," he promises, and he's thankful that he sounds more reassuring than he feels.

"I know you will," she responds softly. She's absolutely certain. She trusts Sherlock and Ted with her life. It's unfortunate that happens to be literal in this case, but that doesn't make it any less true.

She looks at the doctor. "Dilantin?"

"Actually I was thinking Keppra. Less initial titration."

Joan nods. "That makes sense." She looks back at Ted, giving him a small smile and squeezing his hand. "It's going to be okay."

Ted glances between them, grateful that Joan is also a doctor and can be involved in her own treatment. At least she'll know what to expect.

When she reassures him, he smiles, trying not to look too emotional. "We're supposed to be comforting you," he points out quietly.

She smiles, her heart absolutely breaking for him. This has to be so hard and terrifying for him. Joan has seen seizures of all sorts, and they're not pretty. She can only imagine what it must have been like for him to watch her seizing and not being able to do anything about it.

"How about giving me a hug?" she says, so much love in her smile and her eyes.

"That I can do," he affirms, leaning down and pulling her up a little into a hug, as warm and as comfortable as he can make it. He bumps a little against all the electrodes on her head, but he doesn't really care.

He hugs her tighter and longer than he really needs to. Like he's scared he's going to lose her. Which he is.

She wraps her arms around him, holding him as best she can, one hand gently rubbing the back of his neck. She can feel how tightly he's holding her, and can guess why. He must be so afraid.

"Everything's going to be okay," she whispers.

He squeezes her a bit tighter at the reassurances, grateful for... just her being who she is. While simultaneously worried she'll focus more on reassuring him than on looking after herself.

"I know it will," he whispers back. His optimism is definitely being tried lately, but that only makes him hold onto it even tighter.

Joan is grateful for his optimism. It's helped her see the world and the people in it in a new and better light. Right now, though, she's grateful for it for his sake. This situation is scary, and his optimism will serve him well. She hopes he might be able to help Sherlock see the good in the world the same way he helped her.

He gives her one last squeeze, then gently lets go of her. And then he gives her a kiss for good measure. (Sherlock will just have to deal.)

"How do you feel?" he asks gently. He has no idea what sort of toll those seizures might take on her, or whether she'd even notice any difference.

Joan makes sure it's a proper kiss and not just a perfunctory peck. Sherlock will definitely just have to deal.

And deal he does, looking down but without a sigh or an eyeroll.

"I'm feeling fine," she says. "A little tired still. It's possible the seizures have been making my sleep less effective. I might recover faster now that we're taking care of them."

Dr. Bergen comes over with her phone. "I'm going to order the Keppra from a local pharmacy and have them deliver," she tells Joan. "Will that work?"

"It should." Joan looks over at Sherlock. "Could you get it when it comes?"

"Of course," he answers.

Ted is only half paying attention to the other people in the room anyway, mostly focused on Joan. He takes her hand again, stroking it with his thumb, just wanting to hold onto some part of her.

"The team sends their love, by the way," he says with a soft smile, wanting to have at least something happy.

She smiles back, definitely happy about that, fond of the little family that Ted has made of the team and happy to be part of the larger family that also embraces Rebecca and Keeley and Higgins.

"How did it go?" she asks, but before Ted can answer, Dr. Bergen interrupts.

"Sorry...how about we get those electrodes off your head?"

"Ah," Joan says. "That would be nice." She looks over at Sherlock, who doesn't need to be asked. He comes over to pick her up and get her back in the chair.

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