trashchildren | For Joan

The SWAT team goes upstairs, still finding empty room after empty room. Joan is in the kitchen, trying to think. Where is he? Where would this man keep him?

She's looking at the floor and sees a small puddle of water at the base of a china cabinet that was completely empty of china. Joan frowns and goes up to it, crouching to look at the floor.

There's a footprint with half of it obscured under the cabinet.

"Help!" she calls to the SWAT member stationed downstairs. He runs into the kitchen to see her using all her strength to slide the cabinet over. He helps her, and together they uncover a door.

The SWAT member opens the door and starts down the stairs, gun in one hand and flashlight in the other. Joan follows.

When the flashlight sweeps over the crumpled form of Ted chained to the pipe, Joan gasps in shock and races down the stairs and is on her knees in front of him in seconds.

"Ted! Oh god..." She throws a glance at the SWAT member over her shoulder. "Call an ambulance, NOW."

There's a light, and footsteps, and Ted shrinks back a little, expecting another bucket, for the cold water to crash into him, and he's not entirely convinced he's going to make it through the next beating.

It doesn't come, though. He takes a moment to focus, and thinks he might be hallucinating.

Except it's not going away, not changing.

"Joan?"

His voice is raspy and weak, and he's confused to see her here, but somehow not that surprised.

The SWAT guy races upstairs to call the ambulance. At the top of the stairs is a light switch, and he turns it on, flooding the basement with light. Joan gasps anew at the condition Ted is in.

"It's me," she says, gently taking his free hand and tenderly touching his swollen face. "I'm here. You're safe. We're going to get you out of here."

"I knew you'd come..."

He tries to squeeze her hand, but it's pretty weak, barely perceptible. But now that little speck of hope that he's been trying to keep alive inside him is rekindled, slowly growing.

Just how bad of a condition he's in probably isn't even really visible. Beyond his confused and fatigued behavior, the slight smell of vomit, his pale and cold skin, there's only a couple bruises on his face, and a split lip.

Most of the harm lies hidden under his clothes. It's probably impossible to tell how many times he's been kicked by counting the bruises, as they all must bleed into each other by now. Who knows how many of his ribs are fractured. Here's just hoping the rest of his bones aren't. And even if he had the energy to stand, he probably shouldn't with the state of the leg where the man stomped on his ankle.

"I'm so sorry this happened," she says, having to swallow down a lump in her throat and resist the tears welling in her eyes. It hurts so badly to see him this way. She gently presses her fingers to his neck to feel for his pulse. It's rapid and weak, and his skin is so cold. Fuck, he's in shock.

Another SWAT member comes down the stairs. "Jesus," he breathes when he sees Ted.

Joan barks orders over her shoulder. "Go find blankets. Quick."

The ambulance is coming, but it might not come quickly enough. She has to get him warm immediately.

She pulls out her lockpick and makes quick work of the handcuff, moaning in distress at how mangled the skin on his wrist is.

"Ted, I need to take these wet clothes off you right away," she says, starting to pull up his sweater, trying to do it as carefully as possible, knowing that it will probably hurt him.

Ted doesn't reply, just lets her do it. She's here now, it's going to be okay. She'll look after him.

He lifts his arms as much as he can to let her pull the sweater off, but takes a sharp breath as it tugs against a sore spot on his side. You'd think he'd be too numb at this point to feel that sharp a pain, but nope, it still cuts through.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs to him at that sharp breath, her heart aching. "I'm so sorry." She eases the sweater off of him gently and tosses it to the side and quickly unbuttons his shirt. When she peels it away from his freezing cold skin she sucks in a breath herself at the reveal of the massive bruises to his side. "Fuck," she whispers. This is bad. This is really bad.

She can't linger, can't fall apart, he needs her to keep it together. She unbuckles his belt and begins to peel his sopping wet pants off as well.

He knows what she's doing, even if he isn't entirely conscious as to why, so he makes a Herculean effort to lift himself off the ground enough for her to pull his pants off him too. He grits his teeth against the pain of the leg, knowing that it's coming.

"He hit my head.." he says quietly, partly to explain what happened, partly because... that might be relevant? Right? It didn't break the skin, so there wouldn't be any blood to betray it, but the headache is one of the sources of pain he can actually single out.

It's absolutely relevant, and if it was just that she would be assessing him for the concussion he almost certainly has. But at the moment it's the hypothermic shock that concerns her.

"I'll let the medics know," she says, pulling the pants down his legs, hissing when she comes to his knees, both badly bruised and swollen. Then she goes to remove his shoes and socks and finds that his ankle is swollen even more. She will be surprised if it isn't broken. She tries to be as gentle as possible, but knows it's gonna hurt like hell.

It does. But again... He's been an athlete. He can deal with pain. Now Joan is here, he's neither scared nor helpless. It hurts, and it's awful, but he knows he's going to be okay.

It's weird to be out of his clothes. They'd started to feel glued to him, like a second layer of skin, rather than the source of the cold.

Now that his wet clothes are off him (save for his boxers, but Joan knows being stripped completely bare is likely to distress him) Joan stands up and yanks free the velcro straps fastening her bulletproof vest. She slips it off and drops it. It falls to the floor with a thud.

She's pulled off her shirt and is pulling down her pants when the SWAT officer comes down the stair carrying blankets. He stares at the near naked Ted and similarly near naked Joan.

"Ummm..."

"He needs to warm up," Joan says, not even pausing in her disrobing. "I need you to help me get him off that wet concrete. I'm pretty sure he can't walk."

She takes the blankets, finds a spot of concrete that's dry, and spreads them out, all three, into as soft and warm a base as she can manage. She goes over to join the officer to pick Ted up.

"His ribs are likely fractured," she tells the officer. "So you need to be gentle. You get his torso, I'll get his legs." She looks at Ted. "This is going to hurt. I'm so sorry." She nods to the officer, and together they lift him off the ground.

Ted is only half registering what's happening around him, laser-focused on Joan, and too out of it to be embarrassed about being in his underwear. (Though yeah, if he were fully naked, that might actually register.)

He nods a bit at Joan's warning, and tries to be as cooperative as he's capable in being carried.

It does hurt. A lot. It's not as sharp as being kicked, but in a way it's almost worse because it lasts longer. He can't stop himself from gasping in pain, screwing his eyes shut.

Once they set him down, he whimpers a little, then turns it into an angry growl. Not at them, just at the pain.

They lay him down as gently as possible in the middle of the blankets, and Joan immediately lies next to him, getting as much of her skin on his skin as possible, wrapping her arm around him and holding him close. He's so cold.

"Wrap the blankets around us," she orders the officer, who complies, pulling the blankets one by one, side by side, around them, tucking in the edges of each one before moving to the next.

"Everything's okay," she whispers to Ted as they're wrapped up together, gently rubbing his back to soothe and warm him. "I've got you."

There's definitely a surreal quality to all this, and it feels slightly ridiculous to Ted. But once Joan lies down next to him, he's not about to complain or question it.

She feels so good against him. He's not sure if it's the warmth or the familiarity and safety, or all of the above. But whatever it is, it's helping. He leans his head against hers, closing his eyes and just focusing on their closeness.

"I know.." he whispers back.

Joan closes her eyes as well, her head against his, tears slipping down her cheeks, her heart an aching mix of relief and fear and anguish and love.

He could have died. He was so close. He could still die, if this is too little, too late. If the head wound is worse than it appears, if his brain is bleeding, if there's some internal bleed from his beating that they don't find soon enough...he could die right here, or die in the ambulance, or in the hospital...

"I love you," she whispers, her breath hitching in a sob. If this is the only time she has to say it, then she has to say it. He needs to know.

He doesn't quite process those words as fully as he would otherwise, but they make him feel warm inside. It doesn't surprise him to hear it, at least not in the condition he's in. He knows it's true, he's known it every time she's looked at him, knows it because she's here to save him.

And all he can thinks is that she's crying and upset, and he wants to comfort her.

"Hey, it's okay.." he says, voice barely a whisper, and he turns his head a little to kiss her hair. "It's gonna be okay.."

He's broken and bleeding, and he's comforting her. It's so him, so Ted and her heart breaks completely. She holds onto him tight and weeps.

It hurts a little when she holds him that tight, but he doesn't even care, because this is the first time he's felt safe in what feels like a very long time. They just hold each other, as Ted warms up little by little, and he ends up drifting. No longer struggling to stay awake or stay warm, knowing that he'll be taken care of.

That's how the paramedics find them, holding each other, wrapped up in three layers of blankets, Joan weeping and Ted asleep. They unwrap them and gently lead Joan away while they assess Ted. She stands back, watching. One of the officers hand her her clothes and she puts them on almost absent-mindedly, her eyes on Ted through the paramedics surrounding him.

He's woken up by people talking to him, and he's almost annoyed that they're disturbing the first rest he's had in forever. He doesn't quite realize it's so they can assess how bad off he is. They ask him a bunch of questions, which he answers with mild annoyance. Everyone's so urgent, and it's exhausting.

All the while he's just wondering where Joan is.

Once they seem satisfied he's not gonna die on the spot, they load him onto a stretcher, all wrapped up again. From there it's a blur as he's carried upstairs and outside. The sunlight hurts his eyes and he makes a face.

Nearby, Beard and Rebecca have been waiting anxiously. Rebecca's been crying, and Beard has a little bit too, though it's less evident with the lack of mascara. When he's carried outside, they both rush over.

It takes him a minute to recognize them as Rebecca says his name, but when he does, he smiles at them. "Hey guys.. Nice to see you," he says, sounding sleepy but surprisingly cheerful given the circumstances. "I'll talk to y'all later, I gotta go do a thing," he continues, as the paramedics usher Rebecca and Beard backwards and load Ted into to the ambulance.

Joan follows the EMTs as they hustle Ted up the stairs and out to the ambulance. One of the paramedics stops her.

"Ma'am, please step back."

"I'm his girlfriend..."

"We need all the space in the ambulance to take care of him."

"But..."

Then there's a hand on her arm, and Joan looks over in surprise to see Sherlock holding her arm. He hardly ever touches her outside of emergencies.

"Let them work, Watson," he says softly.

Joan bites her lip, and steps back.

"We'll take good care of him," the EMT promises. "He'll be at St. Bart's."

With that the paramedic hops into the ambulance and closes the door, and it races off, sirens blaring.

Joan watches it go, then lowers her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Edited 2021-07-04 08:28 (UTC)

Rebecca and Beard also watch, everyone standing in stunned silence until the ambulance turns a corner and disappears out of sight.

Then Rebecca approaches Joan, face as covered in tears as Joan's is, and for once not seeming particularly self-conscious about it. Beard's just a step behind her.

"Thank you so much for finding him," she says to Joan. She looks almost like she wants to hug her, but isn't quite sure how to go about it, or if they know each other well enough for it. "Just... Thank you."

Beard gives a silent but obvious nod of agreement behind her, also looking quite shaken, but relieved that Ted's alive and conscious enough to recognize them.

Joan is utterly at a loss for words, and has no idea how to respond.

So instead she's the one who initiates the hug, wrapping her arms around Rebecca in a warm embrace, tears still coursing down her face.

Rebecca looks surprised, but just for a moment, before she hugs back, rubbing Joan's back.

Ted's one of her best friends, and while she and Joan haven't spent that much time together, Ted has absolutely gushed about her during morning biscuits. Rebecca knows how much she means to him, and she's so grateful what what she's done for him, not just today, but in opening his heart up again after his divorce. She herself knows how difficult that can be.

"If you need anything, you know where to find us, alright?" Rebecca says quietly to Joan. As far as she's aware, Joan doesn't have the biggest support network in London, and wants to make sure she knows she's welcome in Richmond.

Rebecca herself will definitely need the comfort of Keeley later. Who'll surely need the comfort of Roy. They're all one big family, largely because of Ted.

Edited 2021-07-04 13:41 (UTC)

Joan pulls back and gives Rebecca a faint, sad smile. "I do," she says softly. Ted brings people together, more that anyone Joan has ever known, and he loves these two people in front of her. She knows without a doubt that they're like family, and will be in her corner.

She goes to Beard and hugs him, too.

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