Well folks this is the last chapter. Hope you have all enjoyed this and thank you for all your reviews! Sorry it's a bit of a short chapter but I just wanted something to wrap everything up, short and sweet. Let me know what you think, thanks again. Hopefully another fic will be coming your way when work's settled down again! Keep writing everyone! Love Amy xx

Chapter Eleven. The end of Days.

Elaine knew nothing of the evil of her brother. Holmes had decided it would be best to keep the truth from her. I agreed, the man had tried to kill her and Holmes. The poison had, Holmes discovered later, been slowly seeping into my blood through exposure to the brooch Elaine used to wear. The exposure had, however, not been enough to kill me, just to make me feel constantly as if I had a cold. The dark news that Holmes had told me the day before haunted my dreams. Moriarty. The evil behind it all, behind all the dark goings on of the London underworld, Moriarty was at the heart of it all. How Holmes had known I could not guess. He and Moriarty seemed to have some invisible bond that united them and enabled them to know what the other was plotting. It was a strange relationship and I could not begin to understand it. Holmes had been out all night again. I had no idea where he went or what he was planning to do. Even if Moriarty was behind this terrible thing, how Holmes planned to defeat him I had no idea. My eyes grew heavy as I sat in front of our fire in Baker Street. Slowly they began to close; I was just about to fall asleep when Holmes blew into the room like a great gust, disturbing everything, as well as my peace.

"Watson." He said simply, sighing as he said it. His face was strained and his eyes looked heavy. He glanced around our room almost nostalgically. His eyes eventually rested upon the glowing fire and tears gleamed in his eyes.

"Holmes?" I asked, concerned, "What is it?"

"I cannot solve it Watson." His voice was quiet, but calm. He took off his coat and hat and poured himself a drink, he offered the glass to me but I refused. Taking it himself he sat down opposite me, eyes again resting on the warmth of the fire. "It is too big, even for me."

I smiled, even at times of despair Holmes never lost his innate sense of narcissism.

"What is too big? Moriarty?" Holmes shook his head.

"No, Moriarty is the least of my problems; he is merely a pawn in some bigger game."

"I don't understand."

Holmes ran a long hand over his tired face.

"Neither do I Watson, neither do I. War is seldom understandable."

I could feel my face grow pale.

"War?"

"Yes, war. It is coming and there is nothing I can do about it. Moriarty was using Elaine's brother's technical knowledge to invent a sinister way of killing. A way of killing that could be used in a war. For who, I don't know. But wherever evil is building there is no doubt Moriarty is helping."

A thought struck me suddenly and I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before. Moriarty was dead.

"Holmes? Moriarty is dead." I broached the subject gently, fearing Holmes' reaction.

"What?" He sat up suddenly, "Oh, Reichenbach. I never believed he died at those falls. Why should you? No-one saw his body. Even if he is dead, his organisation certainly is not and they are conspiring with the enemy." He paused, "Whoever they are."

I felt ill. War. And by the sound of it, something big. Holmes' eyes were far away, he was gone, lost in his own thoughts. I sat watching him for a while. I realised he was just as scared as I was about the prospect yet faced it with a steely defiance. He had never let evil win before and I doubted he would give up without one hell of a fight. I smiled. Wherever I was and whatever I was doing when this war came I would think of this moment and the look in Holmes' eyes and I would be strong. For Holmes and for England. I too would defy Moriarty's memory and his evil.

"Holmes I'm going out. Shouldn't be late."

He acknowledged me with a mere nod of the head, his eyes still gazing into an uncertain future. This case had changed our lives; it had given me Elaine and brought the threat of war. But I was grateful, I was grateful for my wonderful friend and all his power. I knew that if war came England would be as grateful of Holmes as I was. I left Baker Street and headed for Elaine, we were to be married in two weeks, Holmes was my best man. Through the gentle autumn sunshine I smiled as I realised he was the best man, the best and wisest man I had ever known.

THE END