Authors' Note: Welcome to the finale, everyone - we're so thrilled to finally be here, and that you wonderful readers have stuck with us all the way! Those who haven't, we strongly advise you to go back and catch up, or there'll be a lot of points in this four-parter that simply won't make any sense. Yes, you heard right, folks: four-parter. Prepare yourselves for huge amounts of cliff-hangers... *evil rubbing of hands*

As we mentioned earlier, some of the scenes will be rather graphic, but skipping over them hopefully won't affect your understanding of the plot, and we'll be rating them appropriately: V=Violence/blood, D=Drugs, S=Sexual themes, L=Language (although given that our heroes are Victorian gentlemen, there won't be much call for the last one!)

Enjoy, and please review!

==Chapter 1==

About Face

"What a terrible feeling to love someone and not be able to help them."

- Jennifer Niven, All The Bright Places

1895. For those of us who believe in Sherlock Holmes, this is a magical year. This is the year after Holmes returned to London and to Watson, after faking his death for three years. This is the peak of the Great Detective's career, the Golden Years. It was immortalised in a beloved poem:

Here, though the world explode, these two survive

This is the year from which the Doctor spirited Holmes and Watson away to be his Companions, traveling through Time and Space with him in the TARDIS. This is the year to which he returned them, and two newcomers: Watson's new wife, Sally, and me. This is the year in which everything went right, and then everything went so very wrong.

And it is always 1895.

The Doctor was working under the console when Watson entered the room, recognisable by his limp. "Ah, Doctor—do you have a minute?"

The Time Lord hadn't quite been keeping track, but he was pretty sure that the honeymoon should have lasted at least another twenty-four hours or so. What was Watson doing out here? Apprehensive, the Doctor looked out and felt his hearts sink—his human colleague's expression was regretful but determined. In humans, that was never a good sign, particularly after a disaster such as the visit to 1989. "'Course…" He pulled himself out and up, but couldn't make himself look Watson in the eye, too afraid of what he might find there.

"Sally and I have been talking things over," Watson said slowly, "and we're both of the opinion that…" He took a deep breath; "that it is time for us to go home."

Oh, God… oh, God, no… The Doctor took a deep, shaky breath and nodded slowly, still not meeting Watson's eyes. "I tried," he said hoarsely, aware that didn't quite make sense and not caring. "I didn't… didn't mean…" He walked slowly over to the jumpseat, sank into it, and covered his face with his hands. "Oh, God…"

The next moment, Watson was at his side, gently gripping his shoulder. "I know, Doctor," he said kindly. "I know you've tried to help him; but you can't, not like this."

The Time Lord looked back up in desperation. He had to fix this, he couldn't abandon Sherlock, he needed them. "But I was! He even stopped using cocaine!"

Watson closed his eyes for a moment, and the Doctor knew with certainty that he was not going like what the man was about to say. "I'm sorry, Doctor, I hate to say it… because I am aware that he hasn't used since we left—" he smiled kindly but sadly—"and believe me, I am immensely thankful for that!" His smile faded. "But haven't you wondered why it's been so easy for him to give up the needle?"

Shrinking in dread, the Doctor shook his head mutely.

"The Bliss patches on New Earth, the plasmavore's addiction to drunkards—those were key moments of epiphany for Holmes, and I don't regret them, not in the least. Even so, if we'd gone straight home after Paris, it would still have taken a huge effort for him to break the habits of half a lifetime—" Watson's tone turned grave—"and I'm afraid, Doctor, that that trial is still to come when we go home… because his original addiction hasn't been cured, just temporarily replaced. He's using our travels with you as a substitute."

The Doctor bowed his head, chest aching sharply. After a few moments, he gave a despairing laugh. "I was going to take you home after Polaris 7, but Holmes and I talked each other out of it."

Watson sighed softly, exasperatedly. "I wish I'd known. But either way, Doctor, we can't stay any longer." Anxiety crept into his voice. "Holmes's depression is deepening rapidly. He's not eating, he barely sleeps… I'll admit, this isn't exactly new behaviour, but now he has you to aid and abet him! As for Sally, he can hardly even look at her now, let alone speak to her in a civil fashion—and yes, I have worked out why, Doctor, it's only too obvious!" His voice quietened. "I can't even remember the last time he laughed."

The Doctor looked up again slowly. "Please... one last trip? The girls haven't really been anywhere - it's not fair to them!"

Watson exhaled heavily in frustration. "And isn't that how this whole mess got started, Doctor? One more trip—oh dear, that didn't turn out so well; let's have another to make up for it—what a surprise, that one turned out even worse; time to go home—goodness me, we seem to have been thrown off course... This is what happens with you, Doctor, over and over, although heaven knows you never do it on purpose! How the next 'one last trip' might end, I shudder to think… and if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not take the chance this time—not when I am trying to get my wife and best friend home in one piece!"

The Doctor's eyes were wide, shocked speechless.

"We're not your pets, Doctor," Watson continued earnestly, "none of us. Please—" he spread his hands—"let me take Holmes back to Baker Street, while there's still something left of him! He needs to return to his work, to remember what makes him feel proud! He needs a case." He fell silent.

The Doctor wanted to protest further—of course, they weren't his pets; they were his friends and he would miss them. But Watson was otherwise… mostly right… and determined. It would be selfish to hold on to him against his will, and he would not go without Holmes. Poor Holmes—the Doctor had failed Companions before, of course, but this failure seemed to sting quite harshly.

Taking a shuddering breath, the Time Lord rose slowly and moved over to the console. He set the time for the morning after they left 1895, wordlessly begging his girl not to mess this one up. He said nothing to Watson, trusting that the man understood his actions. He didn't trust himself to speak—he'd break down if he did.

He ventured a glance at Watson to see the man sag in relief. "Thank you," he said softly, sincerely, and left.

The Doctor gripped the console tightly, bowing his head, trying to will away the tears.

True to his word, the Doctor put out a ship-wide call on the intercom, and the four Companions were soon gathered together in the control room. Holmes was the last to arrive, and for once, Watson felt relieved that the detective was still avoiding making eye contact - he wasn't looking forward to the moment when Holmes worked out who was really to blame for their sudden departure.

The sorrow in the Doctor's eyes deepened when he saw Holmes, but clasped his hands together behind his back and spoke with his usual brisk cheerfulness. "All right, so! Our next stop is 1895 - specifically, where and when I picked up the boys." He nodded at the two men, particularly Holmes, whose eyes were starting to narrow. "Your timeline needs a bit of a helping hand at this point, sort of like keeping a clock wound up: time for you fellas to take on another case. After I've dropped you off, I'll take the TARDIS over to Cardiff to refuel over the Rift - been a long time since the old girl's had that, and she needs it. When she's done, which shouldn't be more than a week, roughly... I'll come back and pick up Beth and take her home."

Beth froze, eyes wide. "You promised," she said quietly.

The Doctor shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Beth, really. But I have to - you have your own timeline to live, you know."

"Zed the timeline -" Beth said sharply, "you promised."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor repeated quietly, and Watson's heart ached at the heartbreak in the alien's voice.

Beth stared accusingly at the Doctor a moment longer, then turned on her heel and strode out of the room. The poor girl...

"Beth..." Sally glanced back at the Doctor, looking torn.

Watson gave his wife's hand an encouraging squeeze, then released her so that she could go after Beth. He was so proud of her, he knew she would have liked to stay longer, too. He'd have to take her on a good, long honeymoon once they were properly settled in at home.

The Doctor closed his eyes, exhaling heavily; Holmes, on the other hand, startled both doctors by saying brightly, "Well, I'd best retrieve my overcoat, then! I don't imagine the weather has altered much since we left."

Watson stared helplessly after Holmes, tension writ large across the detective's shoulders as he walked out. The doctor looked over at his colleague ruefully. "Well, that went well!" At least they'd been spared the explosion he was half-expecting.

"How well did you think it was going to go?" the Doctor answered quietly, turning to go after Holmes.

"I don't know," Watson murmured wearily. Maybe it was a side effect of travelling with the Doctor, but it felt like a long time since he'd last been certain of anything.

Holmes stood in his bedroom doorway, gloomily surveying the various souvenirs and garments that lay scattered about everywhere. Should he bother packing, he wondered vaguely, or just leave it all as another shrine to a lost Companion, like Miss Tyler's room? It wasn't as if he'd brought any luggage with him, anyway; all he and Watson had had when they first became passengers were the clothes they stood up in.

It had only taken the stunned detective a moment to realise that they were leaving the TARDIS for good - did the Doctor really think he was deceiving anyone with his 'helping hand' nonsense? And Holmes had a good idea of who was responsible for that decision as well - Watson had been far too quiet during the Doctor's announcement. Of course he'd known that their time would be up eventually, but surely it didn't have to be this soon, there was still so much to see... He didn't blame Beth in the least for being angry at only being allowed one trip.

"Sherlock?"

Holmes tensed as the Doctor's voice broke in on his thoughts, turning to face the Time Lord. "Yes?"

"Sherlock, I'm sorry. I just..." The Doctor shook his head helplessly. "I can't justify it anymore. You've got your own life to live... and it'll probably be much better off without me in it."

For a moment, Holmes felt like the TARDIS had removed the floor from under him. "And is that your professional opinion, Doctor -" he asked quietly, eyes searching the Time Lord's face, "or Watson's?"

The Doctor didn't flinch this time, his voice earnest. "Mine. Same song as before, different day."

Holmes nodded stiffly. Of course, doctors had to stick together, didn't they? "I see. Let me know when we arrive." He turned away again, now badly needing to be alone in his room one last time, especially since 221B was about to become more crowded than it had ever been before.

"I didn't say you're completely out of this game." The Doctor's voice had turned serious. "Torchwood is still out there - and they know far more about you than they should."

Holmes gave him a mirthless smirk over his shoulder - as if he didn't know that already. "They can get in line, then."

"They know about Tibet, Sherlock -" the Doctor said sharply, "and Bernice said they'd been watching you closely ever since. I don't think their interest in you is just because of me."

Holmes merely looked bored, entirely unimpressed by the alien's theatrics this time. "Well, no doubt Mycroft has sent them a pointed memo – but as I said, Doctor: they wouldn't be the first." And he walked into his room, letting the door hiss closed behind him.

Sally tapped lightly on Beth's bedroom door, which hissed open. The teenager was sitting on the bed with her still-unopened duffel; she must not have even had a good chance yet to unpack. "Beth… are you okay?"

Sally reddened when the younger woman turned to her with a Look, though strained, as if trying not to cry. "Okay, stupid question," Sally amended hastily. "I know you're not, but…" She approached the bed; "is there anything I can do?"

"Not really," Beth said bleakly.

Deciding to bite the bullet, Sally sat down beside her. She might not know Beth very well, but she had to try to help her. Especially since it was painfully clear that no one else would. She couldn't blame the girl for being upset, either: this whole thing wasn't fair to her at all. "Beth, I'm so sorry. I… I wanted to stay, too."

Beth's face twisted—the tears were going to come very soon. "Then why…?" she said plaintively, then reddened.

Sally bit her lip. "Because John's worried… and I think he's right: Sherlock's been away from Baker Street long enough, maybe too long. And John... he hasn't said anything, but I can tell he's homesick, too. I can't ask him to stay here any longer, just so we two can have a few more adventures!"

Beth took a shuddering breath and whispered, "It's not fair…"

"I know," Sally said quietly. Poor kid—her one trip in the TARDIS had been a positive disaster. But maybe… She nudged Beth with her elbow. "Hey – maybe when the Doctor gets back again, you can ask him to take a detour? A week's a long time." And she'd learned from John that the Doctor really didn't do well without companions, even for one day. There must be a lot of pain in his past…

Beth gave her a sad and unconvinced smile. "Maybe." Still, even if the Doctor agreed to that… would it still be fun for Beth with just her and the Doctor? No one else? No Sherlock… The girl's smile vanished altogether as she shook her head miserably. "It was hard enough persuading him to come back for me at all."

Sally couldn't think of what to say to that, so she put her arm around Beth instead, hugging her gently. She wished they could keep going. She wanted not only to see more of the universe but also get to know Beth better. This girl, barely out of school, heart on her sleeve… this girl was special.

Beth leaned into her embrace a little. "I think," she said quietly, slowly, "I think he only did it because he owed me."

Sally tightened her hold slightly. "What happened?" She'd been wondering what a girl as young as Beth must have been could have done that the Doctor would come back for her later in her life like he did.

"I, um, I saved him. Twice…" Beth gave Sally a halting and probably condensed narrative: aliens seeking out the Doctor to steal his lifespan, the Doctor becoming human and the three time-travellers becoming school teachers, the Doctor's watch, the aliens infiltrating Beth's school… Beth choked up completely when she came to the most horrifying part of her story, the murder of her best friend. "They… they just replaced her… c-completely… she was gone and this–this thing used her voice…"

Sally's breath caught, feeling sick. "Oh, Beth!" she whispered past the lump in her throat. She might have lost her best friend, too, but at least she knew that Kathy had had a good, long life with her new family. Kathy had been content, and that had been a small comfort. Beth didn't even have that. Chloe's life had simply been snuffed out.

Beth wiped at her tears and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Then the police arrested Mr. Smith, Sherlock, and Dr. Watson by accident, and I, um…" She blushed past her tears. "I kind of had to get them out of that fix. Then…" Her voice quietened. "Then we had to convince Mr. Smith to let the Doctor come back... but he had to die for that to happen. He did, and... the Doctor took care of the Family." She rubbed at her eyes with both hands and laughed mirthlessly. "Then, um, he... told me some things... about Chloe... and I made him promise to come back for me." Looking down, she muttered, "Shouldn't've done that."

"Oh, honey." Sally put both arms around Beth, hugging her tightly, remembering her taking the blame for Jeremy Brett's kidnapping. Beth's breath caught, and she hugged Sally back. "It wasn't your fault, okay? I've got a feeling Torchwood would have caught up with us anyway."

Beth nearly choked as she said, "But it's pointless now…" She gave another empty laugh. "Might as well not have come back for me at all."

Sally's heart ached. "Don't say that," she murmured. Even if it was just for a little while, she was glad to have had Beth's friendship. She didn't deceive herself: it was going to be difficult for her to make new friends in Victorian London. Keeping her past a secret as she undoubtedly must would make her life always a little bit lonely.

Beth looked up, silent, eyes dull and red-rimmed, then back down again, and hugged Sally a little tighter.

No, nothing about this was fair at all.

After a quick visit to the kitchen with Beth for some last-minute ice cream (no Rocky Road in 1895!), Sally regretfully excused herself and headed back to her own room. John was anxious to be off, and she still needed to pack, although she had little in the way of suitable clothing for the time she was soon to call home. Maybe she should ask the TARDIS if there were any spare outfits in the wardrobe room.

The Doctor rounded the corner and saw Sally headed for her room. Oh, thank goodness—he'd been starting to worry that he wouldn't have a moment alone with her before they landed. "Sally?" He hurried forward. "I, ah, have something I wanted to give you. Wedding slash housewarming gift."

Sally blinked, startled out of her thoughts. "Oh." She gave him an uncertain smile, still feeling a little off-balance from his sudden appearance. "Ah, thank you." She shook her head, blushing – well, that had sounded truly grateful! "I'm sorry, it's just..." She shrugged awkwardly, gaze shifting involuntarily towards Beth's bedroom door.

The Doctor caught the eye movement and thought he probably knew what door Sally was glancing at. He coloured slightly—he certainly deserved no apologies. "No, it's okay. I just thought, well..." He pulled a sleek smartphone from his pocket—late 21st century model, actually his human self's phone. Phones by that time surpassed the capabilities of any laptop Sally could ever have used in her own era, and he was certain she'd love it. "You might enjoy a bit of an upgrade from your own phone. It's solar-rechargeable, so it'll pretty much never die, and it has Internet and everything. Little bit of the future."

Sally's mouth fell open – the phone the Doctor was holding looked even more advanced than Beth's, almost like something out of Star Trek! Speechless, she looked up at the Time Lord, wide-eyed expression asking the question for her: Seriously? He was actually going to let her take future tech into the aftermath of the Industrial Revolution? She hadn't even planned on taking her old phone with her; assuming she could have kept it charged, who was she going to call?

He shrugged but appreciated her reaction. "Well, I don't think it's going to be terribly easy for you to adjust, and I thought this could help with that. You can journal and take photos and read—it's got all the tricks. Did some jiggery-pokery on it, and it can call any other phone throughout all of Time and Space, as long as the TARDIS exists. She's the satellite that'll make it work. Her number is on it, too—I think you'll be needing that someday."

His last words had Sally giving him an odd look – what did he know that she didn't? Well, knowing the Doctor, she was probably better off not knowing for the moment; and she had to admit, it was comforting to think that the Doctor might come back one day. Maybe she hadn't gotten to know the Time Lord as well as John, but she would still miss him.

She accepted the phone with a smile and slipped it into her pocket, then moved closer and gave him a hug. "Thank you." Poor man, it was clear he was going to miss all of them just as much, he looked even more forlorn than Beth.

Surprised but grateful, he returned the hug. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "I didn't want it to end like this. There was so much I wanted you girls to see." So much more he wanted the boys to see—more wonders in worlds beyond their own.

Sally was suddenly glad he couldn't see her face right now. Trying to keep the wistful note out of her voice, she murmured back, "Hey, it's okay," then looked up at him with a teasing grin. "I'm pretty sure we can find enough trouble of our own to get into." John and Sherlock definitely would, and there was no way she was going to let those two have all the fun!

The Doctor couldn't help grinning back. "Oh, I'm sure you will." Life was never going to be dull at 221B, that was for sure! "Um, which reminds me, in a roundabout way... has John ever told you about Fixed Points?"

Sally nodded thoughtfully. "He told me about your adventure with Shakespeare." She honestly couldn't understand the sheer ingratitude of people like Torchwood – God only knew how many times the Doctor had saved the human race from being wiped out altogether! "From how he described it, it sounds a bit like a power line: you can have some fluctuation in your timeline, as long as you've got strong supports in the right places."

Well, she'd grasped the concept pretty well. "That's a good way of describing it. Fixed Points in Time are those supports—they have to happen. They always have to happen, no matter what else you might change in the timeline. And, ah, Sherlock and John have... quite a lot of Fixed Points in their timelines."

Her eyes widened, mouth forming an 'O'. "You're talking about the published cases, aren't you?" All sixty of them – no wonder John hadn't wanted to know any of the later titles!

The Doctor nodded. "Yeah. Now, there might be some deviation, some poetic license in there, I'm sure there is, but they have to happen. You're from the future—you know what an impact those stories have on history and literature, even if Sherlock and John are no longer seen as real people."

She couldn't help laughing at that. "Do I ever!" She'd often wondered how John felt about that: he and Sherlock being thought of as just figments of somebody else's imagination, even if people did idolise their characters. Sally sobered as she parted from the Doctor and entered her bedroom, thoughts returning for the hundredth time to another well-loved character... one whom she would always secretly regret not being able to meet. The cases being Fixed Points, did that also apply to the past events mentioned in them, like Mary's death?

Sally hadn't yet found the courage to ask John exactly how it had happened, not wanting to bring up painful memories during what was supposed to be a joyful time for them both – but in all honesty, she wasn't even sure she wanted to know any more than was already in 'The Empty House'. Thank God John would be putting so few details of his second marriage into his later works. Artistic license or not, Sally's fate wasn't written in black and white for future readers to gossip about – her life, although intertwined with John's, would remain a mystery, and that was just fine by her.

Thursday, 21st November, 1895

8:45 am

The TARDIS landed in the mews behind Baker Street, directly behind 221B. The Doctor glared briefly at his own front door. "Well, go on, you lot," he said gently. "I'll see you in a week or so."

Beth walked past him without so much as glancing at him, still looking angry. She was also dressed rather like one of the Baker Street Irregulars by now, albeit a very well-kept Irregular. Oh, Beth, honey… I'm so sorry. I wanted you to have a better time.

Sally, on the other hand, was wearing a dress, coat and hat appropriate to her middle-class status, and looking quite lovely, really. She glanced sadly at the Doctor, who returned the look with a nod, then glanced expectantly at her husband. Watson smiled back, traces of sadness around his eyes but looking more proud and excited than anything else.

Holmes walked out of the TARDIS without looking at anyone, taking his keys out of his overcoat pocket, headed for his own back door. The Doctor would have given anything to run after him and ask for forgiveness and for another chance.

Watson carried two suitcases full of clothes donated from the TARDIS. Heaven knew Sally needed late Victorian dresses more than the Doctor did. Before moving on, Watson hesitated, blushing and looking deeply remorseful. The Doctor looked down and busied himself with the console—if he cried at all, and he felt as though he might, he was going to hide it. "Doctor... what I said earlier… I believe I may have been overly hasty in my choice of words."

Really? I would never have guessed. John, of course I want what's best for you, but I also don't want you to leave—you're family... After a few moments, the Doctor pulled himself together enough to murmur, "Have a good life, John."

"Doctor, be careful, all right?" Watson said abruptly, earnestly. "We want you back in one piece, too."

He must be thinking of what the Rift matter did at Niagara Falls. The Time Lord sighed. "The Rift isn't dangerous to the TARDIS, Watson, all right? Not like that." He patted his girl. "We'll be fine."

"Thank you for everything, Doctor," Sally said softly.

The Doctor looked up then, expression softening. Looking at Sally always put him strongly in mind of someone else he knew… And she was brilliant, herself—it was no wonder Watson had fallen so hard for her. "You're very welcome… Mrs. Watson." That elicited a blushing smile from her. "Thank you."

Watson grinned affectionately. "See you next week, Doctor." His tone turned innocent. "Christmas at the latest." He took Sally's hand and walked out of the TARDIS into the fog-filled back street.

The Doctor shook his head and risked a glance at Beth, who was still standing by the door and looking a bit awkward herself. "Beth," he said quietly, "I know I shouldn't ask you this… but could you please keep an eye on Sherlock? He's going to do something stupid—I just know it."

Sighing, she looked at him frankly. The poor kid—he only wished he could try to help get her what she wanted so badly. "Doctor, did you think you had to ask?"

His lips twitched at the all-too-familiar rejoinder. "S'ppose not. Take care of yourself, too."

She gave him a slow half-salute, then stepped out into 1895. He swallowed hard as she did, closed the doors after her from the console, and took the TARDIS back into the Vortex.

Sky: Ow, ow, ow. Believe me, this was not a fun chapter to write. The very first scene alone hurt like crazy, and by the end of the chapter, it feels like everybody's the loser and no one the winner.

Ria: A couple of these scenes were last-minute additions, but they were just as painful, especially Beth and Sally's. I think Beth's right: if she hadn't insisted, the Doctor really wouldn't have come back for her, the guilt he felt over her losing her best friend would have been too much. As it is, he's hardly spent any quality time with Beth one-on-one (although to be fair, that does get more difficult with multiple companions). I also have a sneaking suspicion about where he might have disappeared to after the wedding. Seeing Watson and Sally so happy must have been difficult for him, too, such a short time after sharing his memories of Rose with Bernice. *hugs him*

Stay tuned for the next chapter, in which the Companions discover that returning to the slow path has challenges of its own...