A/N: And now, after all this time, Scandal comes to an end! I hope you guys have enjoyed the road so far, but fear not, we've still got a ways to go!


Laura hurried under the red awning of Speedy's Sandwich Shop, and she let out a frustrated grunt as she struggled to pull her umbrella closed. Laura had always had mixed feelings about rain—sure, it looked lovely from a cozy seat inside, but splashing through the soggy streets of London was an undoubtedly unpleasant experience. The fact that John had called her ten minutes ago demanding that she meet him as soon as possible had done nothing to brighten her mood, but she'd hurried to the shop nonetheless. She presumed his reasons for meeting had something to do with Irene and Sherlock's mysterious disappearance the previous evening, and the fact that there had been no sign of Irene since.

Laura caught sight of John sitting alone in the back of the shop, and he looked up at her with a tired smile as she made her way over to him. His hair was dark brown and plastered to his head in certain spots from the rain, and he clutched onto his half-empty glass of water as if the world would shatter around him if he released his grip. This definitely had something to do with Irene, Laura concluded; no other person on earth had the power to drain someone so entirely.

"So, what's this all about then?" Laura asked in a casual tone as she draped her coat over the back of her chair and sat down. She poured herself a glass of water from the sweating pitcher in the center of the table, and she looked up at John when he failed to answer her question. John met her eye and then quickly looked away before catching her gaze again, and Laura let out a quiet sigh as she set down her glass. "Just tell me, John," she said gently, and he let out a sigh of his own as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Irene's dead, Laura," he told her, and Laura calmly took another drink of water. John frowned over at her and she gave him a small shrug.

"If you expected another emotional breakdown, sorry to disappoint," she told him, and she allowed herself a small smile at John's baffled expression. She was sure he'd expected to have to put her back together again just as he had the first time Irene had 'died', and she knew her cool reaction confused him. In all honestly, he probably assumed she was trying to push down her torrid emotions in an attempt to remain strong; Laura decided it was only fair that she give him piece of mind in the form of an explanation.

"It's just that my real sister, the one who loved me and cared for me and always had my best interest in mind, died a long time ago. I think I lost her when I lost my parents, or shortly after. I don't think I truly realized that until she 'came back from the dead' and I was forced to accept that my Irene was gone. So the fact that this other woman, this stranger with my sister's face, is dead doesn't really upset me," she told him, and John stared at her for a moment before he nodded with a small relieved smile.

Laura smiled back at him and reached forward to pull his hand from his glass and envelop it in her own. When Irene had 'died' the first time, Laura had thought she'd been left all alone in the world. But she now knew that although she didn't have a single living blood relative, she was not alone. She had John, and although she and the detective might not have been on the best terms, she felt as if she had Sherlock as well. As long as she had the Baker Street boys, Laura knew she could never truly be alone.

"So, are we sure she's really dead this time?" Laura asked as few moments later, and John gave a little shrug.

"Mycroft says he checked, so I guess we're as sure as we ever could be," John told her, and although Laura knew her face probably betrayed her disagreement, she didn't bother voicing it aloud. Sherlock had been sure the last time Irene had died, so why on earth should the elder Holmes' assurance be any more credible? But she knew John needed to believe that Irene was gone for good, that there was no way she'd ever make an appearance in any of their lives again, and so she kept her skepticism to herself.

"What's in the evidence bag?" she wondered aloud as her eyes fell on the manila folder and cell phone enclosed in the plastic bag on the table beside John. She knew the phone was of course Irene's mobile, but she was curious to know what was inside of the folder—and why John had an evidence bag in the first place.

"A gift from Mycroft," John said, and Laura noted that his discomfort had returned. He wouldn't meet her eyes, and instead keeping his gaze focused on the bag. "It's…it's a transcript of Irene's interview with US Marshalls from their Witness Protection Program, among other things," he said, and Laura's grip on his hand tightened.

"John, you can't be serious," she said with a baffled laugh, and he looked up at her with another shrug. "You can't honestly think you can lie to Sherlock Holmes," she told him incredulously, and he shifted in his seat.

"Mycroft and I both think it's for the best. You remember how he reacted the last time she died," John said earnestly, and she sighed.

"Yes, I do remember, and yes, I suppose it is for the best. But he'll know you're lying, John. Hell, I can tell when you're lying and I'm not even the self-proclaimed best detective in all of London," she huffed.

John extracted his hand from hers and buried his face in his hands with a heavy sigh. Laura felt a sudden surge of concern as she watched John. He looked so exhausted, so ready for all of this to finally come to an end, and she resolved then and there to leave it alone. This was just as much about John as it was anyone else—he was the one who had to live with Sherlock, who'd have to put Sherlock back together piece by piece if he went through another breakdown.

"I know, Laura. Believe me, I've thought of every reason why telling him she's alive and well in America is a stupid idea," he said, and she watched as he let his hands slowly fall from his face. "But what else am I supposed to do?" he asked, and when his voice broke on the last word Laura reached for the folder and rose from her chair.

"Come on," she told him, offering him her hand, and he took it gratefully as he stood as well. "Let's go save Sherlock from himself."

Laura stood in the doorway to 221B with her arms crossed over her chest as she waited for John. She could hear him in the kitchen with Sherlock, and she smiled to herself as she heard John give in and hand over Irene's cell phone. That man had him wrapped around his finger, she thought as she leaned against the doorframe, and she had to quickly hide her amused smile when John exited the kitchen a moment later.

He heaved a relieved sigh as he approached her, and Laura felt her smile return when he pulled her into a hug. John kissed her on the cheek, then pressed his nose against her ear as he whispered, "he's going to be ok. Sherlock's going to be alright."

"Good," she told him with a relieved sigh of her own, and John pulled away to take her hands in his.

"I need a drink," he told her as he pulled her towards the landing, and his gaze suggested that he wanted to do more with her than just share a beer. But although Laura was eager to celebrate as well, she hesitated. There was something she wanted to check on first.

"I'll meet you downstairs in a second," she told him, and John was far too excited to bother questioning her. She watched him jog down the stairs before she entered the flat and stood beside the doorway to the kitchen. She peeked around the doorframe, only to see Sherlock's microscope abandoned on the cluttered table. Laura quickly glanced around for any sign of him, and she entered the kitchen when it became clear that he'd vacated the room. She turned towards the sitting room when she caught sight of a movement in the corner of her eye, and there stood Sherlock.

He stood in front of one of the large widows with Irene's phone in his hand, and when he turned she saw that his face was spread into a triumphant smile. He tossed the phone in the air and caught it, then gave a little thrust of his fist. This was his victory dance, Laura realized, and she couldn't help but smile as she silently turned away from him and headed downstairs after John.

Sherlock knew, Laura realized with a grin as she descended the steps. Of course he knew; how could he not know? Not that Irene was dead as John and Mycroft seemed to believe, but that she was really, truly alive. Sherlock was going to be alright, Laura knew, not because Irene was alive 'in America', or even because she was alive wherever she really was. No, Sherlock was going to be alright because he'd saved her—because he'd helped Irene, just as he'd told her he would.


A/N: It's over! Huzzah! We made it through 30 chapters of Irene-centered drama! And now we get to move on to a new era, where the issues are caused by Sherlock's desires and Laura's inability to resist him... exciting right?