Getting to spend time with Henry feels like the best medicine. While he was down in that basement, it was a comforting thought that Henry was halfway across the world, out of reach of any harm. But now that he's safe, he feels so much better being able to be with his kid.
Still, in a way it's also exhausting. He needs to be strong for them, to protect them from what really happened. It's not like with Joan, where he can let himself be vulnerable, knowing that she'll be able to take it, that she's signed up to be there for it.
He keeps checking the time, wondering when Joan will be back so he can introduce them. He knows it's not the best time to tell them they're dating, but he wants them to at least meet Joan, to see what a lovely person she is, and to give them the opportunity to thank her. Not that he'd tell then everything he did, but he figures he could at least say that Joan is responsible for finding the man who hurt Ted, and making sure he doesn't hurt anyone else.
After a few hours, he suspects she might have gone to join Sherlock with the investigation into Turner, or maybe they got a case or something. Still, he'd expect a text from her in that case.
When Michelle takes Henry to go get some snacks and some coffee, he takes the chance to just send Joan a short text.
Joan is at 221B. She's cried out all of her tears, and now...now she feels empty. The exact opposite of numb, she is so deeply in pain that she can hardly register any other emotion. All she can think of is that Ted almost died because of her. She needs to stay away from him. And it's killing her.
She's sitting at her desk, her laptop in front of her, a travel website open and displaying a list of flights to New York.
When the phone buzzes, she sees a text from Ted, and it feels like she's been stabbed through the heart. He doesn't know. He doesn't know he's in the hospital because of her. He doesn't know that she needs to protect him. To let him be happy with his family. Alive with his family.
She thinks of not answering at all, but he deserves something. Even the barest thing she can say. She types the text.
I'm sorry.
She hits send. Then she turns off her phone. And selects a flight to New York that leaves tomorrow evening.
Ted frowns at the text. At first he assumes she's saying she's sorry about being late, or maybe she felt overwhelmed by the idea of meeting her ex-wife and kid. But neither seems exactly right. Like she's elaborate a bit more?
About what? What's wrong?
He waits for a response, and still hasn't gotten anything by the time his family is back, so he puts it aside for now. Maybe Joan needs a little time.
Eventually he gets tired, and Michelle tells Henry that they need to let daddy get some rest, and they can visit him later. Ted offers them the use of his apartment, since it's just standing there empty anyway, but they end up going to a hotel near the hospital instead.
Ted checks his phone again, and there's still nothing, so he sends another text: Are you on a case? What's up?
That one gets him nothing either, so he tries calling, and it goes to voice mail. Is her phone off? (He tries not to get paranoid about something happening to her, and he's not wholly successful.)
Sherlock is hard at work trying to track down this person who set Turner Chapman on the path of kidnapping and attempting to murder Ted. When his phone buzzes he expects it to be Watson. When he sees it's Ted Lasso asking where Joan is it pulls him up short. He would have thought she was with him. But finding out that she's not, that he has no idea where she is, he has some idea of what might be going on. He was there when Joan was dealing with Andrew's death. It turned her life upside down, and it took her months to come back to herself again.
Has she told him?
He texts back, in legible vernacular instead of his usual text speak.
It definitely rings a bell. In fact, when Sherlock brings it up, it rings a pretty big alarm bell.
Her boyfriend who died because someone was targeting Joan. Ted feels incredibly stupid that it didn't occur to him this might trigger some feelings related to that. Even if Ted was just attacked by some random guy, and it had nothing to do with Joan, she's probably feeling pretty upset.
Part of him is also annoyed, because why couldn't she just say so, instead of worrying him like that? But he knows that thought is unfair, so he pushes it down.
It does. Thank you. When you see her, please make sure she's alright. I understand if she needs some space, but I'd also like to know she's okay.
After that he tries (and mostly fails) to put it from his mind. He worries about her, and misses her. He wants to be the one to comfort her, even as he understands that just seeing him might be triggering her memories, and that she's too focused on taking care of him to let herself be vulnerable. It's a painful position for the both of them.
Beard and Nate come by after work. Nate is a little bit of a wreck, and clearly has no idea how to act, while still trying desperately to be comforting. It's sweet, and a little bit funny. He doesn't stay too long though, but Beard sticks around.
They talk a little bit about the team, about strategy for the next match, just to get Ted's mind off of things, and let him feel like he's not totally useless, stuck in the hospital.
Beard can clearly tell Ted is worried though, and after a bit, Ted opens up about Joan. He stays vague about Andrew, not wanting to disclose all of Joan's personal stuff, but does let Beard know she's lost someone and might be blaming herself for it. Beard can easily tell it's taking a heavy toll on Ted that Joan's not talking to him about it at all.
So the next day, at lunch, Beard texts to ask if Joan has reached out to him yet. When he finds out she hasn't, he takes a cab up to 221B and rings on the doorbell.
Joan has her bags packed. She hasn't even told Sherlock that she's leaving, wholly wrapped up in guilt and fear and pain. She tries not to think about Ted, but it's impossible. She can't not think of him, not miss him, not feel incredibly empty in the knowledge that she can't be with him. She tries to pass the time until she leaves for the airport, but winds up mostly staring at the wall.
When the doorbell rings she frowns, not expecting anyone. She's tempted to just not answer. She looks like a mess, and she doesn't really want to see anyone right now. But maybe it's someone for Sherlock.
She goes down and opens the door, and is surprised to see Beard there.
Beard nods in greeting. "Ted wants to see you," he says, getting to the point immediately.
Not that Ted has asked him to come here, but sometimes you gotta take matters into your own hands for the sake of your friends. And it's fairly obvious that Joan is going through something, and she'd probably be better off for seeing Ted too.
"Then you should tell him to his face," Beard answers immediately. He'd clearly anticipated this possibility, and is having absolutely none of it. "He deserves that much, don't you think?"
The cab that took Beard here is still waiting at the side of the road.
She sees the cab, and she wants to go with him, so badly.
"Beard, I..." She shakes her head, unable to talk. He doesn't understand.
"It's because of me," she says, barely above a whisper. "He was hurt because of me. If I go to him...I might not be able to leave again." There's a lot of pain in those words. "And he'll be in danger."
Beard frowns. He doesn't know the details of the case, so he has no idea if that's true, or whether she's just projecting and making assumptions. It probably doesn't matter, because she believes it to be true, and it doesn't change what he has to say.
"Well then he deserves to make that choice himself," he says. His voice is softer, less confrontational, but still determined. "Just cause it's because of you doesn't make it your fault, and just because you're scared doesn't give you the right to be that selfish, not after what he just went through. If he just went through hell, and he decides you're still worth it, then you at least owe it to him to tell him why you're leaving anyway."
Beard follows, opening the cab door for her, and getting in after her. He tells the driver to go to the hospital.
Once the cab sets off, he reaches over and gently puts a hand on her shoulder. Offering her to lean against him again, if she wants to. While he's here to make sure she does right by Ted, it's for her sake too, and he doesn't like to see her hurting.
She takes his offer, leaning against him and closing her eyes. She's so tired, and so sad. She knows he's trying to do the right thing, and that he cares about her. She cares about him, too.
Beard wraps his arm around her, holding her and rubbing her arm gently.
"What happened to Ted isn't your fault," he answers gently. It may not be what she's apologizing for, and he already said it, but he thinks she really needs to hear it, and probably more than once. "He wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you. And I know, I was there."
It's hard for her to accept that. Joan has carried the grief and the guilt for a number of things over the course of her life, from the patient who died on her table to Liam being lost to drugs to Andrew's death. She's dedicated her life to saving people, and when she fails it sticks with her.
She's quiet for the rest of the ride, just resting against him. She can't even plan out what she's going to say. She's too tired and in pain.
Beard sits in silence with her until they get there. He doesn't rush her once they're at the hospital, just walking next to her and letting her take it at her own speed.
When they make it to the hospital room, Ted is there alone, just reading a book to pass the time. When he sees Joan he sits up immediately. Beard waits outside, closing the door after them and making sure they get some privacy, for whatever is about to happen.
"Joan!" Ted exclaims, and there's a relieved smile on his face, which immediately becomes a worried sad look. He wants to go to her, but as it is he can only reach out for her.
Seeing him makes her pulse quicken. For a moment she intends to hang back, stay by the door, because she knows if she goes to him she won't ever want to let go.
But she can't stay back. She loves him so much, and that worried sad look is killing her.
So she goes to him and into his arms, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder.
Ted wraps his arms around her immediately, not even caring when her impacting him makes his ribs ache. "Hey," he whispers softly into her hair, rubbing her back a little. "I missed you.."
He doesn't ask if she's okay, because she's clearly not. He can't imagine what she's feeling. He just knows he wants to try to help make it better.
He doesn't rush her to ask where she was, what's wrong, why she didn't answer, any of that. He just holds her for as long as she needs until she's ready to say it herself.
It's not the response she expected, just his warm, steady embrace and those words. She expected at very least one of the several very fair questions he doubtless has. But no. Acceptance and affection from the start.
"I missed you," she answers, her face still hidden. Then, softer and with hidden tears: "I'm sorry."
"About what?" he asks again, pulling back to look at her, desperate to understand. He keeps his hand gently on her arms, trying to steady her.
This time it might have been just an apology for disappearing, but it being an exact echo of the text makes it feel like it's more significant than that.
It's an apology for a lot of things. For disappearing. For worrying him. For not letting him decide whether or not to continue being together. But the way he's looking at her, with that intensity, that level of concern, suggests he wants to get right to the root of things. Fair enough.
"Turner Chapman was a pawn," she says, her eyes on his, searching them for understanding and for...what? Hurt? Anger? Rejection? "He was manipulated into doing what he did. Someone used him as a weapon."
Before there's understanding, there's confusion and worry. Then when the understanding comes, there's concern, for both of them, and maybe a small hint of fear.
"And... what? You think this someone did it to hurt you?" he asks. Because that's what he's assuming she thinks, based on Sherlock reminding him about Andrew.
She picks up the most on that hint of fear, because it's what she both expects and fears he will feel. It's what she's nearly certain will make him choose to leave her.
She pulls back a little, almost subconsciously, as if in anticipation of being asked to leave.
"I do," she says, her voice strained. "There's a woman named Moriarty. She's the head of an international crime syndicate. We've encountered her before. She hates me, because she's obsessed with Sherlock and because I caught her once. The case we've been working on turned out to be part of her syndicate, and Sherlock and I had been trying to follow the evidence back to her. This..." She lifts her arms slightly to indicate him and the situation. "This is what she does. She doesn't target people directly. She goes after their families. Their friends. People they..."
As Joan explains, Ted's worry grows. Not just because of this woman, but because he can feel Joan pulling away, both physically and emotionally. Like she wants to protect him, that she's doing this for his own good even as it pains her, that she thinks this is what he needs and maybe even wants. And he can see that it's killing her.
And then she breaks off, and Ted knows exactly what she was going to say, not just because she said it before, but because he can see it in all of her.
"Hey, hey.." he says, comforting but also trying to get her to focus on him and not... everything else. He reaches up and puts a hand on her cheek, looking at her with intensity. "I love you too, Joan."
Because if she wants to make this choice, he needs to make sure she knows that first. He needs to know that she knows what she would be giving up.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theodorelasso) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trashchildren2021-06-24 07:33 pm
no subject
Still, in a way it's also exhausting. He needs to be strong for them, to protect them from what really happened. It's not like with Joan, where he can let himself be vulnerable, knowing that she'll be able to take it, that she's signed up to be there for it.
He keeps checking the time, wondering when Joan will be back so he can introduce them. He knows it's not the best time to tell them they're dating, but he wants them to at least meet Joan, to see what a lovely person she is, and to give them the opportunity to thank her. Not that he'd tell then everything he did, but he figures he could at least say that Joan is responsible for finding the man who hurt Ted, and making sure he doesn't hurt anyone else.
After a few hours, he suspects she might have gone to join Sherlock with the investigation into Turner, or maybe they got a case or something. Still, he'd expect a text from her in that case.
When Michelle takes Henry to go get some snacks and some coffee, he takes the chance to just send Joan a short text.
Hey. When do you think you'll be back? -Ted
no subject
She's sitting at her desk, her laptop in front of her, a travel website open and displaying a list of flights to New York.
When the phone buzzes, she sees a text from Ted, and it feels like she's been stabbed through the heart. He doesn't know. He doesn't know he's in the hospital because of her. He doesn't know that she needs to protect him. To let him be happy with his family. Alive with his family.
She thinks of not answering at all, but he deserves something. Even the barest thing she can say. She types the text.
I'm sorry.
She hits send. Then she turns off her phone. And selects a flight to New York that leaves tomorrow evening.
no subject
About what? What's wrong?
He waits for a response, and still hasn't gotten anything by the time his family is back, so he puts it aside for now. Maybe Joan needs a little time.
Eventually he gets tired, and Michelle tells Henry that they need to let daddy get some rest, and they can visit him later. Ted offers them the use of his apartment, since it's just standing there empty anyway, but they end up going to a hotel near the hospital instead.
Ted checks his phone again, and there's still nothing, so he sends another text: Are you on a case? What's up?
That one gets him nothing either, so he tries calling, and it goes to voice mail. Is her phone off? (He tries not to get paranoid about something happening to her, and he's not wholly successful.)
So he texts Sherlock.
Hey. Is Joan with you? I can't reach her.
no subject
Has she told him?
He texts back, in legible vernacular instead of his usual text speak.
She is not. Does the name Andrew ring a bell?
no subject
Her boyfriend who died because someone was targeting Joan. Ted feels incredibly stupid that it didn't occur to him this might trigger some feelings related to that. Even if Ted was just attacked by some random guy, and it had nothing to do with Joan, she's probably feeling pretty upset.
Part of him is also annoyed, because why couldn't she just say so, instead of worrying him like that? But he knows that thought is unfair, so he pushes it down.
It does. Thank you. When you see her, please make sure she's alright. I understand if she needs some space, but I'd also like to know she's okay.
After that he tries (and mostly fails) to put it from his mind. He worries about her, and misses her. He wants to be the one to comfort her, even as he understands that just seeing him might be triggering her memories, and that she's too focused on taking care of him to let herself be vulnerable. It's a painful position for the both of them.
Beard and Nate come by after work. Nate is a little bit of a wreck, and clearly has no idea how to act, while still trying desperately to be comforting. It's sweet, and a little bit funny. He doesn't stay too long though, but Beard sticks around.
They talk a little bit about the team, about strategy for the next match, just to get Ted's mind off of things, and let him feel like he's not totally useless, stuck in the hospital.
Beard can clearly tell Ted is worried though, and after a bit, Ted opens up about Joan. He stays vague about Andrew, not wanting to disclose all of Joan's personal stuff, but does let Beard know she's lost someone and might be blaming herself for it. Beard can easily tell it's taking a heavy toll on Ted that Joan's not talking to him about it at all.
So the next day, at lunch, Beard texts to ask if Joan has reached out to him yet. When he finds out she hasn't, he takes a cab up to 221B and rings on the doorbell.
no subject
When the doorbell rings she frowns, not expecting anyone. She's tempted to just not answer. She looks like a mess, and she doesn't really want to see anyone right now. But maybe it's someone for Sherlock.
She goes down and opens the door, and is surprised to see Beard there.
"Um...hey," she says.
no subject
Not that Ted has asked him to come here, but sometimes you gotta take matters into your own hands for the sake of your friends. And it's fairly obvious that Joan is going through something, and she'd probably be better off for seeing Ted too.
no subject
"It might be for the best if he doesn't," she says softly, grief in every syllable.
no subject
The cab that took Beard here is still waiting at the side of the road.
no subject
"Beard, I..." She shakes her head, unable to talk. He doesn't understand.
"It's because of me," she says, barely above a whisper. "He was hurt because of me. If I go to him...I might not be able to leave again." There's a lot of pain in those words. "And he'll be in danger."
no subject
"Well then he deserves to make that choice himself," he says. His voice is softer, less confrontational, but still determined. "Just cause it's because of you doesn't make it your fault, and just because you're scared doesn't give you the right to be that selfish, not after what he just went through. If he just went through hell, and he decides you're still worth it, then you at least owe it to him to tell him why you're leaving anyway."
no subject
"Okay," she says.
She steps out and closes the door, locking it behind her, and heads for the cab.
no subject
Once the cab sets off, he reaches over and gently puts a hand on her shoulder. Offering her to lean against him again, if she wants to. While he's here to make sure she does right by Ted, it's for her sake too, and he doesn't like to see her hurting.
no subject
"I'm sorry," she whispers.
no subject
"What happened to Ted isn't your fault," he answers gently. It may not be what she's apologizing for, and he already said it, but he thinks she really needs to hear it, and probably more than once. "He wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you. And I know, I was there."
no subject
She's quiet for the rest of the ride, just resting against him. She can't even plan out what she's going to say. She's too tired and in pain.
no subject
When they make it to the hospital room, Ted is there alone, just reading a book to pass the time. When he sees Joan he sits up immediately. Beard waits outside, closing the door after them and making sure they get some privacy, for whatever is about to happen.
"Joan!" Ted exclaims, and there's a relieved smile on his face, which immediately becomes a worried sad look. He wants to go to her, but as it is he can only reach out for her.
no subject
But she can't stay back. She loves him so much, and that worried sad look is killing her.
So she goes to him and into his arms, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder.
no subject
He doesn't ask if she's okay, because she's clearly not. He can't imagine what she's feeling. He just knows he wants to try to help make it better.
He doesn't rush her to ask where she was, what's wrong, why she didn't answer, any of that. He just holds her for as long as she needs until she's ready to say it herself.
no subject
"I missed you," she answers, her face still hidden. Then, softer and with hidden tears: "I'm sorry."
no subject
This time it might have been just an apology for disappearing, but it being an exact echo of the text makes it feel like it's more significant than that.
no subject
"Turner Chapman was a pawn," she says, her eyes on his, searching them for understanding and for...what? Hurt? Anger? Rejection? "He was manipulated into doing what he did. Someone used him as a weapon."
no subject
"And... what? You think this someone did it to hurt you?" he asks. Because that's what he's assuming she thinks, based on Sherlock reminding him about Andrew.
no subject
She pulls back a little, almost subconsciously, as if in anticipation of being asked to leave.
"I do," she says, her voice strained. "There's a woman named Moriarty. She's the head of an international crime syndicate. We've encountered her before. She hates me, because she's obsessed with Sherlock and because I caught her once. The case we've been working on turned out to be part of her syndicate, and Sherlock and I had been trying to follow the evidence back to her. This..." She lifts her arms slightly to indicate him and the situation. "This is what she does. She doesn't target people directly. She goes after their families. Their friends. People they..."
Her voice catches in her throat.
no subject
And then she breaks off, and Ted knows exactly what she was going to say, not just because she said it before, but because he can see it in all of her.
"Hey, hey.." he says, comforting but also trying to get her to focus on him and not... everything else. He reaches up and puts a hand on her cheek, looking at her with intensity. "I love you too, Joan."
Because if she wants to make this choice, he needs to make sure she knows that first. He needs to know that she knows what she would be giving up.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...