trashchildren | For Joan

"There's like a dozen in the NFL," Ted answers with a nod. "Not sure about soccer, but I haven't seen any. But, you know, there's women's soccer, where I would certainly hope they've got some."

"I'd bet there are a lot more men coaching women's soccer than women coaching men's soccer," she remarks with a small quirk of her lips. Joan has dealt with being a woman in male-dominated fields for a long time, and doesn't hesitate to call out sexism, even if she's not leaning into it.

"I bet, yeah," Ted agrees. He very much enjoys that kind of sexism being pointed out. "I'd bet it's hard, getting players to respect you enough to listen. All these young 20-somethings, you know." Even if they're not outright sexist, getting them to respect you is hard enough anyway. Ted definitely knows that.

Joan appreciates that he's so open to talking about this without getting defensive. Not that she expected anything different, but it's still way too unusual, especially when so many coaches have a tendency to be macho dickheads.

"Do they listen to Rebecca?" she asks with a tilt of her head. "I mean, she's not a coach, but she is a figure of authority, right?"

"More than I do," Ted answers with a chuckle. "Sorry, that's not a dig at her authority, I just meant I tend to talk a hole in her head," he clarifies quickly. It's also because he knows that she's perfectly capable of shutting him up if she wants to, and he absolutely listens to her when she does.

"I think they do, yeah. They know she loves the team. And she does have the ability to fire any one of them," he adds. "Getting the press to listen to her is more of a challenge. You know, the first day I was here, I had a press conference and they were really digging into me, and she stood up for me, shut them all up." There's probably still video of it floating around online.

"I'm sorry that happened," Joan says. She's been witness to a fair amount of abuse Ted has endured from the Richmond fans, so she can only imagine how cruel the press was to him. "And good for her! She really does have a commanding presence. It's one of the reasons we got her to come with us to Scotland Yard when they were dragging their feet about looking for you."

"It's alright, we made friends soon enough," Ted answers with a smile. Those same journalists are ones he's had plenty of pleasant conversations with since then. He just had to win them over. Not the first time he's been in that situation. Even if it was stressful at the time.

"Oh yeah, right," he answers, realising that she was there when he was rescued. "Between the two of you, I bet you would've been hard to ignore. Ooh, I would've loved to see that, actually." He bets they'd make a real formidable duo. Or trio, if you get Keeley in there as well. They could conquer the world.

Joan has seen a number of Ted's televised press conferences, and she's noticed the rapport he has with the reporters, so she's not surprised that they've been won over. It's kind of what Ted does, after all. He makes everyone around him feel seen and valued.

She can't help but wonder if that rose from his dad's suicide. That maybe he thinks if only his dad had felt seen and valued, he wouldn't have done what he did.

"We definitely weren't taking no for an answer," she says with a smile, but there's a touch of sadness to it, considering their commanding presence was part of a horrible experience that, thank god, wasn't the tragedy it could have been. Joan doesn't want to think about what might have happened had she and Rebecca been unable to get Scotland Yard onboard...but she can't help it. She had already been deeply in love with Ted, and losing him like that...

She takes a breath, shaking her head a little. "Anyway."

Ted can imagine what's going through her head. He was going through hell at the time, after all, and so were they. Just a different kind.

If Ted had died at that point, he doubts he would've noticed much. He would've gone on to wherever it is people go, and that would've been that. But they would've had to deal with losing him like that. And Ted knows how hard that is.

He steps closer and transfers a crutch to his other hand, so he can put his hand on her shoulder and lean down and kiss her cheek. "It's a good thing none of us give up that easy," he says softly. Himself included.

She turns her head to answer his kiss on the cheek with a light one to his lips.

"Yes it is," she agrees. She remembers him telling her that he had just tried to stay alive so that he could be found. So she could find him.

She puts her hand on his and leans her head against it, just taking a moment to appreciate his closeness.

Ted can't really fight (or at least he couldn't in that condition), he can't lockpick, he doesn't know all of the things Joan and Sherlock do that might've allowed him to free himself. But he can be very, very stubborn, and he can have faith in people. He doesn't quit. Which might've saved his life.

He smiles at her leaning her head against him, just standing there for a moment. Being grateful that things didn't go as bad as they could've.

Joan is so grateful that Ted doesn't quit. It had likely saved his life, yes, but it had definitely saved their relationship when Joan believed she had to leave Ted to protect him.

(And now Joan has to wonder what her leaving for his good and without asking for his opinion felt like to Ted in the light of what she now knows about his father.)

Sherlock watches them for a moment before saying, "well, come on. The smoothies aren't going to smooth themselves."

If she had left without saying goodbye, he definitely wouldn't have taken it lightly. It's maybe for the best that he doesn't know how close it came to happening, that she only showed up there because of Beard. He understands the pain she was going through, but leaving him out of the decision, or at least not giving a proper goodbye, would've been a pretty huge betrayal to him. Even if she didn't know about his father, she knew about his wife.

Ted chuckles at Sherlock's comment. "Wanna get the wheelchair?" he asks Joan. She might want to try to walk the rest of the way now she's caught her breath, but he definitely doesn't want to assume that. "You can wheel yourself, if you want," he adds. Then she won't risk falling over or exhausting herself, but she'll still get to control where she goes.

She had thought just leaving was the best thing to do for both of them, even though it was killing her. She thought he would be safer and happier without her, and that a goodbye would only make it harder for both of them to do what needed to be done. Thank god for Beard. He had saved both of them so much pain.

Joan smiles at Sherlock as well, then looks up at Ted. "I think I want to try to walk," she says. "I think I can make it."

Ted nods, stepping back to give them room. "I think you can too," he says with a smile. Not because he really knows that much about her physical state, but he trusts her ability to judge her own capabilities and has faith in her determination.

Sherlock is inclined to trust Watson as well. He holds out his hands to her and she takes them, getting to her feet. The distance from the living room to the kitchen is less than from the bedroom to the living room, but he's still very cautious with each step.

Ted follows along after them, then once they get to the kitchen he hurries over to pull out a chair for her to sit down at the kitchen table, so she doesn't have to stand and wait.

Sherlock helps Joan walk to the chair and sit down. Joan lets go of Sherlock, holding her hands out for a minute as if making sure she's not going to lose her balance...

Then she pumps a victorious fist into the air.

"YES!"

Ted gives a whoop of celebration, holding his crutches in one hand so he can give her a high-five, and then a happy one-armed hug from behind. He's all about celebrating the small victories, and it's wonderful to see Joan happy and improving.

Joan happily gives him a high five, then leans into the embrace, putting her hands on his arm.

"Well done, Watson," Sherlock says, his voice quiet. He's not one for this sort of celebration, but he is proud of his partner, and happy to see her happy.

Sherlock's quiet praise is probably just as appreciated as Ted's exuberant celebration. It's all relative, and both show that they they care a lot.

"Now, what do you want for breakfast? After this achievement, you obviously get to be the one to choose," he says, still hugging her, head leaned against her.

Joan certainly appreciates Sherlock's praise, knowing how rare it is and therefore how significant. She gives him a smile of gratitude.

"Hmm," she says, considering the question. "Do you make French toast?"

Ted considers for a moment. "Yeah, I think we've got everything we need for that. Depends how you like them," he answers, straightening up and going to poke through the cupboards. "Do you want vanilla in there?"

"Absolutely," she says, watching him as he pokes around. She likes watching him cook. "Cinnamon is good too."

Sherlock sits at the table, leaning back and watching Ted as well. He knows cooking is one of a number of ways that Ted takes care of people. Sherlock sees those caretaking tendencies in a new light now that he knows about Ted's father.

Ted's already been pretty open about cooking being something he did for his mother when his father died. There's just a little more to it that that. His suicide really broke her, and for a while Ted felt like he was the only one holding everything together.

He could easily have hated cooking after that, bitter at having that responsibility. But no, he still loves it. He eventually learned to cook simply for fun, at that way it remained a good thing he could do for himself as well as other people, not just something he was forced into.

And it's obvious that he enjoys it too. He moves around the kitchen with a content purpose, gathering ingredients and mixing them together.

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