trashchildren | For Joan

Joan snuggles in close, her arm over his waist, her head on his shoulder, letting him hold her. She closes her eyes with a sigh, relaxing, drifting almost immediately.

"I love you," she whispers.

Sherlock moves to the chair, settling in to continue his vigil.

"You too," he whispers back, kissing the top of her head. "So much," he adds, even quieter.

Ted takes a bit longer to fall asleep, gently caressing her arm with his fingertips as he just lies there, listening to her breathing. Closing his eyes and taking comfort from having her in his arms.

When he does finally drift off, it as at least more peaceful than earlier, and not just because of his exhaustion.

"So much," she answers, although she's barely more that mouthing the words as she slips into sleep. Her sleep is peaceful and her dreams are quiet, formless, with a sense of weightlessness, being buoyed by warmth and peace. It's the best she's slept in a long time.

Sherlock can't help but smile ever so slightly as he sees both of them sleeping so peacefully. He keeps watch for four more hours, allowing both of them time for a complete sleep cycle before going to wake Ted. He looks at the man for a moment, wondering how best to wake him. In the end he reaches down to gently shake his shoulder.

Ted's sleeping pretty lightly at this point, so he rouses easily, feeling - thank goodness - a lot more rested. There's still a deeper exhaustion that he thinks it's going to take weeks for him to truly recover from, but in relative terms, he feels pretty good.

He looks up at Sherlock, then glances down at Joan for a moment to make sure she's okay, before looking back up at him again.

"Hey," he greets lifting a hand to cover his mouth as he yawns. "What time is it?"

"A little before dawn," Sherlock answers. He saw how Ted's first thought was to check on Watson, and he appreciates him for that. They are on the same page.

"I'm afraid I am in need of some rest myself, if you feel sufficiently rested."

"Of course," he answers, giving him a smile. "Thanks for keeping an eye on us. Two eyes, I'm sure."

He looks down at Joan still slightly draped over him, and wonders if he can get up without waking her. If he stays lying down like this, so warm and comfortable and cuddly, there is a chance he'll fall back asleep even if his sole purpose is to stay awake.

So he carefully tries to roll her over little so he can sit up. It's probably not gonna work, since she usually sleeps pretty lightly, but he'll give it a shot anyway. At least she's also been falling back asleep easily.

Joan does wake, but just enough to smile for a moment at the two of them looking down at her, the two men she loves, who love her. Then the smile fades as she relaxes back into sleep.

Sherlock takes a step back from the bed, standing stiffly and opening and closing his hands, indecisive, needing to sleep yet not wanting to leave the room, to leave Watson.

Ted reaches out to grab his laptop, planning to just sit here right next to her, sitting so he can easily notice her moving even while looking at his screen.

He realizes Sherlock's still standing there, and looks up at him curiously, before he realizes why, from the way he's looking at Joan. "It's alright, I'll look after her. Promise," he says softly.

"Hey, could you maybe make me a coffee before you go to bed?" he asks as an afterthought, because that would definitely help him stay awake. And it'll give Sherlock a purpose for leaving the room that perhaps feels more productive than just the need for sleep.

Sherlock nods, and turns away from the bed, a movement that obviously takes a fair amount of determined effort. It's not that he doesn't trust Ted. He knows that Ted loves Watson dearly, and would do anything to keep her safe. Yet still he worries about turning his back. He still has some guilt for her having been in harm's way in the first place.

But he leaves the room and goes to the kitchen to get coffee brewing.

Ted definitely understands the - well, not the lack of trust, exactly, but the need to personally do as much as he can. Ted experiences the same. He knows Sherlock is utterly devoted to Joan, and that he's probably better than Ted at looking out for her, at least when it comes to stuff that requires being observant or knowledgeable. It's pretty much Sherlock's main thing. But that doesn't stop Ted from worrying if he stays away from Joan for too long anyway.

He looks forward to a time where he doesn't have to worry about her. Not because it's an obvious strain on him (and on Sherlock), but because he does know that Joan can take care of herself. But right now there's some specific ways in which she can't.

As he waits for Sherlock to return, Ted finds himself ignoring his computer in favor of just watching Joan. Not out of worry, but out of fondness. He gently reaches out and just strokes her hair, as softly as he can to avoid waking her.

Sherlock is looking forward to not having to be constantly concerned about Watson as well, and also mostly because he knows the toll it takes on her, as she is fiercely independent.

When the coffee is done he puts it on a tray along with a couple biscuits and some fruit, and heads to the bedroom. He sees Ted petting Watson's hair as she sleeps, and it's such a tender scene that even cynical Sherlock feels warmed by it.

Ted looks up when he realizes Sherlock's back.

"Hey, look at that," he says cheerfully, though still speaking very quietly to avoid waking Joan. "Breakfast in bed, what luxury."

He's still putting a little bit of effort into making sure he's cheerful and positive, but at least it comes a little easier today.

"At least something to tide you over," he says as he pulls the chair close to the edge of the bed and sets the tray on it. He straightens, tapping his fingers against his thumb as he looks at Watson again.

"I will be on the couch," he says. "If anything happens just call."

"Thanks. I will," he promises. "Sleep well."

Ted is a bit less worried now, as the medication seems to have done its job, and Joan seems happy and resting well. Not so unworried that he won't still be watching her closely, but enough that he doesn't have to feel constantly anxious while he does so.

He takes a sip of coffee and then starts snacking on some fruit, going to try to actually catch up on emails and whatever else has been falling by the wayside.

It's quiet for a couple hours as Joan sleeps peacefully. Around 6am she begins to stir. She opens her eyes slowly, then runs them with the back of her hand as she yawns.

Ted looks over at her immediately when she stirs, but it's quickly obvious it's just her waking up, nothing to worry about.

"Good morning," he says softly, reaching down to stroke at her hair again. "Sleep well?"

She stretches a little, then smiles as he strokes her hair. "Really well," she says. Her expression shifted to mild concern, and she reaches out to affectionately rub his thigh. "Are you okay? How's your stomach?"

"Yeah, I'm good," he answers, and he certainly looks better than last night. "My back feels a bit better too." The pillows helped. He's sure he still needs to take it a little easy to make sure it doesn't get worse.

"I'm glad to hear that," she says. She reaches over to take his free hand and thread their fingers together. Ted might notice that her hand isn't shaking.

"How's Sherlock?" she asks, her soft smile indicating that there's no worry behind the question.

He doesn't consciously notice it first, but he does notice that she looks a lot better, and he's so relieved for it. He lifts her hand to give it a soft kiss.

"On the couch. Went to sleep a few hours ago," he answers, nodding to the door. "Reluctantly," he adds with a smile.

She glances toward the door. "That sounds about right," she says, looking back at Ted with a smile. "Did you sleep okay? Aside from your stomach bothering you?"

"Yeah, it calmed down," Ted answers. Which isn't a lie, just... a tiny fib. His stomach did hurt, it just wasn't the root cause.

"You hungry?" he asks, glancing over at the tray on the chair. "Got a banana if you want breakfast in bed without either of us getting up," he says with a smile.

"I'd love a banana," Joan says, working herself up to sitting. It's a little easier this morning. She looks over at the tray and knows that Ted wouldn't have brought it in himself. Sherlock must have prepared it for him. The thought of it makes Joan smile.

Ted doesn't help her this time, letting her try it for herself, though ready to support her if she needs it.

He grabs the banana and opens it up for her though, since that's both fiddly and requires a little strength.

"Thanks," Joan says as she takes the banana. She takes a small bite, chews it carefully, then swallows. She waits for a moment, seeing if her stomach revolts. It does not, so she smiles and takes a bigger bite.

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