trashchildren | For Joan

Sherlock is about to counter Watson's assertions when Ted asks about Archie.

"He's the son of my protegee Kitty," he tells him. "Watson and I are his godparents."

"He's adorable," Joan tells Ted. "You'll have to meet him and Kitty someday."

Sherlock considers reminding Watson of the fact that Kitty is cagey around strange men, but decides not to. Ted is not like other men, and Sherlock could see Kitty feeling comfortable with him, even if she might be overcome by the man's enthusiasm at first.

"Oh, I'd love to meet her," Ted answers with a happy smile. He didn't know they were godparents, that's so lovely. "Does she live here, or back in New York, or...?"

"She lives in England primarily," Joan says. "But she works with an anti-human trafficking organization, so she spends a fair amount of time abroad. I think she's in..." Joan frowns and looks at Sherlock.

"Argentina," Sherlock supplies.

"Right," Joan says.

Ted raises his eyebrows and nods, both impressed and approving. "That's a real good thing to be doing," he answers. "But you said she was your protegee, so is she like, being a detective for it?"

"She uses the skills I taught her as an investigator, yes," Sherlock says.

"Skills we both taught her," Joan adds softly.

Ted might get the impression the story is more complicated than they're necessarily letting on.

Ted looks between them. "I.. take it there's more to this story?" he prods gently. If they dismiss it, he won't pry further, if they don't want to get into it, but he's definitely picking up on there being something more there. It almost sounds like Joan is trying to make sure Sherlock is giving her proper credit, but that doesn't seem quite right?

They glance at each other. Then Sherlock looks toward Ted.

"I took Kitty on as my protegee during a period of time when Watson and I had separated."

"That was in the wake of what happened with Mycroft," Joan says. "Which...is another story. Suffice to say, I decided I wanted to live on my own. And Sherlock decided to abandon me entirely."

"It's not quite that simple, Watson," Sherlock says quietly, looking away. "You had lost your lover, but I lost my brother, and, it seemed at the time, my partner."

He's definitely wandered into something rather complicated, yes. And apparently still somewhat sore, even if they've since made up. Given how close they are, he can imagine that separation hurt a lot, for both of them. And Ted's heart hurts in turn. Even just seeing them talk about it now, his heart aches for them both.

If Kitty was the 'rebound' protegee, it definitely sounds like a lot changed, if Joan is now godmother to her son. At least it didn't remain sore between them?

There is one point that stands out though. He'd suspected there was something sad there when Joan had mentioned him earlier, but... This sounds more sudden and painful than he'd initially thought.

"Mycroft died?" he asks quietly. Because it's hard to imagine other ways to lose a brother.

Another glance between Joan and Sherlock. Yet again this is quite complicated.

"Yes," Sherlock says. "About a year ago."

Joan knows that's going to confuse Ted, so she starts to explain. "Mycroft was working for MI6," she says. "Sort of the British version of the CIA. We found that out when..." Joan hesitates, and Sherlock finishes the sentence.

"When Watson was kidnapped by the French crime syndicate Le Milieu," he says softly.

The fact it was only a year ago takes Ted aback. He knew about Andrew, but...

When Sherlock says that she was also kidnapped in connection with it, Ted instinctively reaches out to take Joan's hand. Both to comfort, but also just... to hang onto her? To protect her? As if he can protect her from something that happened in the past.

She squeezes his hand, grateful for the gesture but also aware of how difficult it must be for him to hear about things like this.

"This was about five years ago," she says to clarify. "Mycroft was in New York establishing a restaurant. Or at least that's what the cover was. He was actually spying on Le Milieu for MI6. He and I...we were figuring out what we wanted to do. What kind of relationship we wanted. I noticed members of Le Milieu in Mycroft's restaurant and wanted to warn him, but they got to me first. They knocked me out with chloroform and I woke up zip-tied to a chair."

Her voice is very quiet, and yet relatively calm. The experience had been traumatic on a number of levels, but Joan is good at keeping her emotions in check.

Of course it's hard to listen to - he doesn't want to imagine her in pain. But of course he still wants to know. Anything like that, it's part of what's made her who she is, and he wants to understand her, what she's been through. And it's a lot easier to help if you know what someone's struggled with.

He doesn't want her to hide things like this to protect him. Keeping him out of investigations is one thing, but this is personal.

So he listens quietly, keeping his own emotions in check as well, squeezing her hand a little to let her know it's okay to go on.

"Mycroft showed up at the Brownstone," Sherlock says, "telling me he had borrowed money from Le Milieu for his restaurant, and that they had Watson, and would only release her in exchange for information being held by a Swiss banker on certain accounts. Mycroft and I did the necessary investigating and got the information. Then he tased me, rendering me unconscious, and made off with the data." The last bit is relayed with a sour expression.

Joan nods. "While I was being held captive, one of the members of Le Milieu was brought into the hideout with a gunshot wound. I told them I was a doctor, that I could save his life. They unbound me so I could help him. It was...bad." She stops herself from getting graphic. The story is already bad enough. "I told them he would die if they didn't take him to a hospital. So they shot him. Right there on the table in front of me."

It's a grim reminder of the kinds of things they've had to deal with. The fact Mycroft tased Sherlock is definitely a surprise though.

While somewhat pained imagining them going through this, it's long enough ago that Ted can keep it together.

Though when she says they shot that man in front of her, something in Ted tightens, and so does his hand on hers. It's like he can hear the shot in his head, and he clenches his jaw a bit.

Joan feels his hand tighten and assumes it's because of his concern for her. She squeezes his hand back.

"They took me out to the rendezvous with Mycroft," she says. "My hands were zip tied behind my back. He gave them the information they asked for. But they didn't let me go. They were going to shoot both of us, because of course they were. Then Mycroft said 'paint it black,' and every single one of the gang members was shot dead. We were surrounded by hidden MI6 snipers. It had all been set up in advance for Mycroft to double-cross Le Milieu."

"And that's how we found out my brother was an MI6 asset." Sherlock says.

It's... a lot. He can't imagine her going through all that. And to still want to be doing what she's doing. He can't believe how strong she is.

"Okay, but..." he says, then pauses, shaking his head a little. It's a lot to process and it still doesn't answer his actual question. "So what happened a year ago?"

"Mycroft died of an intercranial brain hemorrhage in a hospital in New Zealand," Sherlock says.

"In the wake of that incident," Joan says, "it became clear there was a mole in MI6. Mycroft discovered the identity of the mole, who made it clear that if he did anything about it, he would tell Le Milieu that Mycroft had double crossed them. They would go after Mycroft, and Sherlock and I would be in danger as well. So..."

"So he faked his death," Sherlock says.

"I was angry," Joan says. her voice paradoxically a little softer in the confession of her anger. "So was Sherlock. We could have figured something out. Something that didn't force Mycroft into hiding. But he didn't wait for us to find a solution. He did what he thought he had to do to protect us."

"He fled New York under a nom de plume," Sherlock says. "And we never saw him again."

Ted frowns to himself, processing all of that. It certainly wasn't anything he would've guessed. So it's not... quite like Andrew. He didn't die while they were dating.

What Mycroft did was... it sounds both noble and selfish. Or perhaps arrogant? Locking them out of his decisions like that, his brother and his lover. Perhaps it's admirable that he would rather never see them again than risk them being hurt. But it also seems like... giving up. He can understand why they were angry.

He sits there in silence for a few moments, before finally he moves, shifting closer to Joan and wrapping his arms around her. Both to comfort her and himself.

Giving up was exactly it. Mycroft might have thought of it as nobly sacrificing himself, but to Joan he just deprived them of having him in their lives.

She wraps her arms around him as well, holding onto him tightly. Sherlock stares into the distance, tapping his leg.

He just holds onto her for a moment, closing his eyes. Trying to soften some of the pain.

He opens his eyes and looks over at Sherlock, seeing him staring off. Ted pulls one arm away from Joan, and reaches over to put his hand on Sherlock's. And ready to pull back if he doesn't like it, but still. He wants to show Sherlock that he wishes he could take away his pain as well.

Sherlock looks down to stare at Ted's hand covering his own. He doesn't move to take his hand, but he also doesn't pull away.

"I had been very angry with my brother," he says softly, his voice raw. "I heard that Le Milieu had been destroyed some time ago, which removed the circumstance that would keep him in hiding. But I didn't reach out to him. A couple months ago a good friend helped me to see that I needed to forgive Mycroft, that I was foolish to waste the time I could be having with my brother." He shakes his head a little. "But the time was already up," he almost whispers. "He had died ten months previously."

It breaks Ted's heart, listening to Sherlock talking about this. Both for the content of his words, and the sound of his voice. His heart aches for them both.

"I'm sorry," Ted says softly, and gives Sherlock's hand a gentle squeeze. He wishes there was more to say or do, but there really isn't.

Joan shifts in Ted's embrace so she can reach out to put her hand on Sherlock's other hand. Sherlock glances at her hand then up at her, his expression sorrowful.

He looks back down at her hand, then glances at Ted's hand.

He turns both of his hands over and curls his fingers around their hands.

Ted smiles sadly, but also touched and grateful for this connection. He can tell it's pretty special and unusual for Sherlock to display that kind of affection - or accepting that kind of comfort. And Ted's grateful that Sherlock will let him in enough to let him give that kind of comfort. Suddenly he doesn't wish there was more to say, because this alone seems more meaningful than words.

This is very unusual for Sherlock, and after a moment of holding their hands he takes a breath and lets go, withdrawing a little to re-establish his personal space.

Joan takes back her hand and leans into Ted.

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