trashchildren | For Joan

Sherlock was going to wait on that discussion, since it is likely to be difficult and Ted seems like he's had enough stress already. But it seems they'll have it now.

"Turner's mother," he says quietly, looking at Ted to gauge his reaction.

Ted nods, pursuing his lips. It's not a complete surprise, since it's the only family he knew existed.

He doesn't know what happened there. Why she left. But a part of him still hates her for it a little bit, for not taking Turner with her. He tries not to. She could've had a very good reason. Just like she probably has a good reason not to do this. Right?

"What do you know about her?"

Sherlock can understand that anger. He's had his own abandonment issues with his father's neglect, and his mother having been sent away when he was still young, later to die in an apartment fire. And Sherlock can understand why Ted himself would have abandonment issues, what with his father's suicide.

"Very little," he answers. "Her name, essentially. And the fact that she left Turner and his father when Turner was young. I didn't look into her further because aside from the effect her absence had on Mr. Chapman, the woman herself had little bearing on the case, especially after we turned from investigating Turner to investigating Mannion."

He considers Ted for a moment, imagining how difficult this must be, with all these emotions welling up after the man on whom they are anchored is gone.

"There are any number of reasons why she might have released her claim to Mr. Chapman's body," he says softly. "She could be too poor to pay for a funeral. The thought of the child she lost so long ago might be extremely painful for her. Or other circumstances could make it difficult for her to handle such things. She could be hospitalized for one thing or another, or could be in the throes of an addiction."

Those are some of the reasons he was imagining, yes. Every option is upsetting in its own way.

"Could you find out which one of those it is?" he asks gently. He wants to know.

If not for any other reason, then at least because he wants to know whether to invite her to the funeral or not.

Sherlock nods. "I can do that," he assures him softly.

It's what he does, after all. Even if Ted were some stranger coming to him for his investigative work in this matter, Sherlock would take the case. It's all the more important to him now because Ted is very important to him.

"Thanks," Ted says with a small smile. Sherlock might not be good at emotions, but when it comes to the practical stuff, he's reliable as heck.

Ted sighs, then he pulls out his phone and texts Joan.

On our way back now. See you soon.

Joan's phone dings, and she sees the message.

"Looks like they're heading back," she tells Beard as she types a reply.

See you then. <3 u

Ted just sits there staring out the window for the rest of the car ride, uncharacteristically quiet, though that's perhaps not that strange in the current circumstances. He's glad that Sherlock doesn't need him to make small talk.

It's definitely not all that strange to Sherlock. While Ted isn't typically the sort of man to get lost in his thoughts, he's got an awful lot to think about at the moment.

Once the car gets there, Ted doesn't wait for Sherlock, instead just grabbing his crutches and getting out of the cab, heading up the stairs and inside. He feels emotionally exhausted, but he's not upset anymore at least.

Joan and Beard are sharing a comfortable silence when she hears the thump thump thump of Ted's crutches on the stairs. She turns in her chair so she sees him when he comes through the door.

"Hey," she greets him with a smile.

"Hey," he says, returning both the greeting and the smile, without any perky greeting. He heads directly in front of Joan's chair, and stops to rest the crutches against the arms of the chair. Then he holds out his hands to help her to her feet. The very first thing he intends to do is give her a hug, and then probably a kiss.

With someone as perpetually perky as Ted, it can be hard to tell when something is amiss. To Joan, however, that simple lack of a cheerful greeting speaks volumes. She imagines Beard is just as aware of that little difference and the significance.

She takes his hands and stands up, then pulls him into a tight hug.

"You okay?" she murmurs.

He nods a bit at the question, but he holds onto her longer than he normally would. It was just a very necessary hug, but it also does wonders for him. Once he pulls back, he does look more relaxed, and he smiles as he gives her a hello kiss.

"We got pretty much everything sorted out," he says. "Wednesday next week."

She notes the length of the hug, and holds him close for as long as he holds onto her. It's a relief to see him more relaxed as he pulls back, and she returns the kiss and smiles back.

"Wednesday," she repeats with a nod.

Sherlock enters the apartment and gives Joan a nod, and she can tell from his expression that there's something up, something he wants to talk with her about. She nods back in acknowledgment.

Ted glances at Sherlock too, not sure what that's about but not worrying about it.

"You hungry? I could make some dinner," he suggests. Cooking seems like a nice calming thing to so right now. And he's been sitting most of the time he's been out, so he's not too worried about his leg.

Joan doesn't know how serious the thing Sherlock wants to tell her, but there's no worry in her expression when she turns back to Ted.

"That sounds great," Joan says with a smile, loosely holding onto his arms. She looks over at Beard. "Stay for dinner?"

Beard nods in agreement, and Ted's smile widens.

"You can come help me," he says to Beard, even though there's probably not much to help with. He'd like to hang out with Beard a bit too.

He gives Joan another quick peck, makes sure she can sit down okay, and grabs his crutches to head to the kitchen, followed by Beard.

Joan smiles at him and squeezes his hand before letting go and watching him and Beard head into the kitchen.

Sherlock comes over and sits on the couch close to Joan. Once Ted and Beard are in the kitchen, he leans forward a little, and Joan leans to her side so she can hear.

"Mr. Chapman's mother refused to claim his body," he says softly.

Joan frowns, then looks toward the kitchen. "Does he know?"

Sherlock nods. "He's asked me to investigate her. To see if I can determine why."

Joan looks back at him. "Do you need help?"

He shakes his head. "I just wanted you to know."

She gives him a slow nod. "Thank you."

Joan imagines that must be weighing on Ted, considering how much he's come to care about how Turner was done wrong by so many people. For his own mother to have even abandoned him after death...

Ted is trying to avoid blaming her, to assume there's a good reason she can't. But even so, it upsets and angers him that it has to be that way. He worries about what Sherlock will find, even as he tries not to. This whole thing is taking a lot out of him.

For now though he busies himself with cooking and chatting with Beard, about work and strategies and how various players are doing, and also about whatever random thing they end up on the topic of, as usual. It feels good, and normal. He misses normality.

Joan can hear the two of them chatting, and it makes her happy. She knows how hard all of this has been on Ted, taking him away from his team, away from his work, his calling. Joan has felt that herself, of course, not being able to engage in the Work to the level she's accustomed to. But she's had a little, what with going through those documents the lawyer dropped off, whereas Ted...well, she doubts playing the video game is quite the same thing.

Dinner takes quite a while this time. He's making one of his comfort foods from home: chicken and noodles, atop mashed potatoes, with a side of hot rolls. Delicious, and if Joan is still having trouble, it should be easy to digest.

He is taking a couple shortcuts so he doesn't have to spend all day, though. Like not boiling the chicken since morning, nor making mashed potatoes from scratch. He could, but then they'd all be starving by the time he finished.

But he figured after this day (these few weeks..), and with Beard visiting, it's a great time. And he knows exactly how to cook it, so he can chat at the same time.

Finally Beard pokes his head out of the kitchen and says dinner's just about ready, but this one probably has to be eaten at a table, not on a couch.

While Ted cooks, Joan looks over some of the files on Rupert she hasn't gotten to yet, while Sherlock grabs his laptop and starts research into Turner's mother. Both of them are still embroiled in the work when Beard announces dinner. Sherlock helps Watson to her feet, then gives her his arm to steady herself with as they walk into the kitchen. She barely needs it, though, and sitting down at the table is almost as easy as usual.

"It smells amazing," she says, smiling at Ted.

"This one of my favorite comfort foods," Ted explains, stopping by Joan's chair to give her cheek a quick kiss, before he continues directing Beard in serving the food, so Ted doesn't have to run around himself.

He's already arranged it onto plates for everyone, though there's more left over in the kitchen, for further helpings, or to be heated up later.

Ted also seems a lot more enthusiastic now than when he got home, the cooking and socializing obviously doing him good, a positive distraction. Even just the smell of the food is a comfort for him. And it's been a while since he's gotten to make Joan something properly Kansas.

Joan smiles warmly when Ted kisses her cheek, and murmurs her thanks to Beard as he sets a plate in front of her. She loves seeing Ted so happy. He's definitely a lot more like his usual self, clearly recharged by the cooking and the interaction with Beard. Joan thinks it's a good thing he's going back to work soon. He definitely draws happiness and strength from the people in his life and the things he loves to do.

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