trashchildren | For Joan

Joan moves closer to Ted, squeezing his hand. She can tell this, whatever it is, is going to be hard to hear.

"There are no funeral plans," Sherlock says quietly. "His body has lain unclaimed since his death."

"Oh no," Joan murmurs.

Ted's frown deepens as he processes this. He doesn't say anything.

No one. There's been no one there for him, even in death. He's been entirely abandoned, so much that he won't even have that last bit of respect shown to him. Something everyone, no matter what they've done, deserves.

Not even a friend, someone he knew at the pub, someone he worked with. He knows Turner didn't have parents anymore, probably no family. That was the whole point. Richmond was all they had.

Well, maybe Richmond should have him, then.

"Can we claim his body?" he asks finally, voice tight with emotion but also determined.

Sherlock looks at Watson, silently asking her to answer that question.

"We can't claim the body per se," she says carefully. "But I'm pretty sure we can donate the money needed to pay for a funeral and a burial plot. That way he isn't just buried anonymously in an unmarked grave. And you'll be able to pay your respects."

Ted nods his head, jaw set. He sets aside his coffee mug, letting go of Joan and leaning forward a bit. "Let's do that," he says. "He deserves better."

He feels angry on Turner's behalf. Not really for this, but for... everyone he was ever failed by. No one starts off bad, or angry or broken. There was so much pain in him, and however misguided and hurtful, in his own twisted way he had good intentions.

Edited 2021-10-01 06:31 (UTC)

Sherlock nods, tapping his middle fingers against his thumbs. "I shall inform them of our intentions," he says, turning and leaving the room.

Joan looks at Ted in concern.

"You okay?" she asks quietly.

Ted shakes his head a little at her question. "No, I'm not okay, I'm very angry," he answers honestly, his eyes darting back and forth, as he's still processing. "And I'm not sure what to do about it," he adds.

Usually he would do something physical to get it out of his system. At the very least get up and pace. But he can't really do that, so now he's just setting here with all this pent up energy, his whole body tense.

"Oh," she murmurs. Her heart is breaking for him, a man so very kind that feels angry on the behalf of a man who hurt him so badly. She reaches out to gently touch his hair, then begins lightly rubbing his back.

"I'm so sorry," she says softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She knows he would probably rather do something physical, but she's glad he's refraining from that. He needs time and rest to heal.

It could be that Ted has just misplaced most of the blame for what happened away from Turner, and onto Turner's surroundings. Like Turner was just the vessel. Otherwise, Turner would just end up like the boogeyman for Ted. The anger is easier than the fear, and he can't be angry at just Turner. Partly because more than once, he had to try to get into Turner's head.

He appreciates her touching him, even if he can't really lean into right now. He nods a bit at her question.

"I mean... you don't get like he was without having been failed by just about everyone," he starts. His voice is not very quiet, especially compared to Joan. "You should've heard him in the interrogation, Joan. He didn't have anyone but his dad, and they didn't have anything but the team. He thought he was helping. I mean, what do you think happened to him to make him think that hurting someone could possibly be a way to help?"

She continues to rub his back as she listens. "I wish I could have been there with you," she says softly. "And I wish you could have had more time with him. That he could have had more time to get help. He would have been so lucky to have you as an advocate."

Joan is furious at Moriarty for having him murdered. She also feels guilty about having drawn Moriarty's attention in the first place. If she hadn't, Turner would still be alive, and Ted would be able to help him become a better person. Now he can only make sure the man's body is treated with care and respect.

But if she hadn't gotten Moriarty's attention, Ted might be dead. Because what would have happened at gala if they weren't cautious?

And now they might get justice for others as well. So Ted doesn't regret it, not really. He just regrets everything that led to Turner being so easily manipulated in the first place.

"He was just.. lonely and hurting, and he was clinging to whatever he had left, because he missed his dad," he continues, and as he talks he sounds more upset than he does angry. "And he died having lost everything, and no one cares."

By now Ted seems to have deflated, his face screwed up and his eyes watery, but not quite crying. He takes a shaky breath and leans against Joan.

Joan can tell this has become personal. Ted is clearly identifying with Turner because they both lost their dads, which suggests that Ted was...maybe still is...lonely and hurting, clinging to what he had left because he missed his dad.

Joan wraps her arms around Ted and settles one hand gently on his head, guiding his head to her shoulder. She presses a kiss into his hair.

"You care," she says softly. "I care."

It's not that Ted really feels that way now... But he definitely felt that way back then, and maybe he never fully processed that, so it just comes back to the surface feeling almost just as fresh as it did back then.

He lets Joan pull him close, wrapping his arms around her as well, as well as he can from this angle.

"I appreciate that," he whispers, nodding a little. He knows she does, and he's so grateful for it. But it seems as far as the world is concerned, no one would even miss Turner, and Ted can't stand thinking about it.

She kisses his head again, then just holds him close, stroking his hair. She knows there's more going on here than she fully understands, but she knows he'll tell her if and when he wants. For the moment she's here with him and for him. If he wants to talk she'll listen, but if he just wants to be held she will hold him.

He doesn't know what else to say about it, so he just sits there, closing his eyes, drawing comfort from her. He's so grateful he doesn't have to go through this alone.

Slowly the pain starts to lessen, become less urgent, less sharp. He lets himself sit there for a while longer still, allowing himself some time to just be quiet and vulnerable and just... not worrying about being positive. He feels comfortable enough with her that he can just exist alongside her.

Finally he needs to pull back, his back achy from sitting all crooked.

"I think I'm gonna hit the shower," he says quietly. He needs a little bit of alone time and to feel a bit fresher before he talks to Henry.

"Okay," she murmurs. A shower is a good idea. Hot water can be soothing, and she knows he'll feel better talking to Henry if he's washed all this away.

She reaches out to gently take his face in her hands and kisses him softly. "I love you."

He was going to do much the same thing if she hadn't first, so he smiles softly into the kiss. When she treats him so gently and lovingly, it makes him feel cared for and precious and valued.

"I love you so much," he says quietly, smiling tiredly at her. "Thank you."

He is indeed so precious and valuable, and she loves him so dearly.

She smiles at the thanks. "I'm here if you need me," she responds, gently touching his cheek once more before sitting back. "Enjoy your shower."

"Thanks," he answers, and gives her hand a quick squeeze as a nonverbal thanks as well, before getting out of bed and grabbing his crutches, heading towards bathroom.

He pauses by the living room to let Sherlock know, in case Joan gets tired and wants to sleep, or they want to discuss the case, or anything else. "I'm gonna take a shower," he says, and leaves it at that. He doesn't bother to mask how drained he feels.

Sherlock is sitting on the couch in the living room, staring at the cell phone resting on the coffee table, hands clasped between his knees, lost in thought. He looks up at Ted's voice, blinking as he's pulled from his reverie. He nods at Ted's words, acknowledgement and reassurance that he will watch over Watson.

Ted nods back and goes to the bathroom. He looks at himself in the mirror. He looks tired and sad. He sighs, and his eyes drift down to the small 'believe' sign, and he nods to himself. Then gets undressed and wraps up his cast, and gets into the shower.

He stays there for a long time, letting his mind wander as he both metaphorically and literally washes everything away for a while.

Joan is herself deep in thought when Sherlock enters the room. He goes to sit in the chair beside the bed, not saying a word. The two of them sit in silence for a long moment.

"I need you to do something for me," Joan says, breaking that silence while still staring down at her hands.

"Anything you need, Watson," Sherlock responds.

Joan looks up at him. "I need you to find out how Ted's father died."

"Have you asked him?"

"He doesn't want to talk about it."

"Perhaps he doesn't want you to know."

Joan frowns with a sigh. "No. No, I don't think that's it. I think it's something bad enough that he can't bear to talk about it. But it still affects him deeply. His reaction to the news about Turner...it was personal. The part about Turner missing his dad. There's something there, and I want to know what it is so I'll know what sorts of things might affect him. It's like Kitty. Knowing that she had been tortured and raped by a man and barely escaped with her life was important. It helped me to be a better mentor, and a better friend."

Sherlock nods slowly. "Very well. I shall look into it. You should rest for now, though. I know you were tired when we came home, and I know you have not slept since."

"Too many things going on," she says as she lies down.

"Nothing that cannot wait," Sherlock assures her.

As expected, the shower helps, and he dries and changes into fresh clothes. He needs to do laundry soon - he doesn't have that many sweatpants. And if he's going to partially move in here, maybe he should get some extra of everything, just to have enough at each place. They should probably go shopping at some point, make this place a bit more homely, make sure they have everything they need.

He occupies his mind with those kinds of mundane planning thoughts. It's comforting because it lets him focus on the future, but not so far future as to be overwhelming in his current situation.

Ted returns to the bedroom quietly, looking better than he did when he left. He smiles softly when he sees Joan sleeping and Sherlock watching over her.

"I'm gonna call Henry," he says quietly, going to get his laptop and his phone. "Need anything before I go?"

Sherlock is happy that Ted looks better. He knows all of this has been hard on the man, and Ted's emotional state has come to matter quite a lot to Sherlock, both for Ted's sake and for Watson's.

"I believe all is good here," he says.

"Well, you know where to find me," he says and smiles - this includes texting, if Joan is asleep and Sherlock doesn't want to leave. He pins the laptop between his arm and the crutch carefully, then looks down at Joan for a second, but he doesn't want to disturb her if she just fell asleep, so he heads out.

He looks over at the couch by the coffee table, but it's still covered in files. The kitchen doesn't have comfortable chairs, and he doesn't really want to try making upstairs (especially while precariously carrying the laptop), so he settles for an armchair with a footstool. The files on the table are mostly together, and there are no gruesome photographs or anything, so that's probably fine.

Then he texts Michelle to let her know he's available to talk to Henry. Soon after she calls him up on FaceTime, letting him know that Henry will be there soon, he's just finishing up his meal.

She seems very relieved to actually see him, smiling and friendly, since they've only been texting a little bit since everything went down this weekend. She asks about Joan, and Ted tells her she's recovering well and should be fine soon, and Michelle seems relieved at that too, which reassures Ted. He had wondered how she's taking the news about his new relationship.

He also carefully broaches the subject of Henry coming to stay for a bit, sometime it works out with school. He doesn't suggest anything long-term. He wants to bring that up a bit more mindfully. And probably after Henry has actually met Joan, at the very least.

And then Henry shows up, and Ted's heart swells. He loves that kid so much. They stay on the call for over two hours, talking about everything he's missed lately, with school and friends, and a new video game he's been playing.

By the end of it, Ted feels like he's had a two week vacation in the Bahamas or something, he feels so much better about everything. He's still smiling to himself once he finally returns to the bedroom.

While Ted is in the living room and Watson is asleep, Sherlock brings out his own laptop and does a little digging. He knows where Ted grew up and roughly when his father died, and it doesn't take too long before he finds what he's looking for. It makes sense now, all of it, from Ted's reluctance to speak of how his father died to his deep desire to be kind and caring toward everyone. He worries about a certain degree of emotional fragility, what might trigger his panic attacks.

Ted returns before Watson awakes, and with a keystroke Sherlock closes the window with the police report he found related to the suicide. He looks at Ted with not a trace of evidence on his face of what he found.

"I take it your son is well," he says quietly, while Watson sleeps on.

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