A/N

Companion Teresa

I'm so sorry that you were in so much pain. I really, really hope you feel better now!

Feuilledelune56

Oh going to Greece! I hope you have a wonderful time! And I'm honoured that you are reading this story and even leave me such nice reviews, even though English is not your native language. So, thank you so much for taking the time and energy to do so!

Elbafo

Thank goodness they are back together again. And still five chapters to go! Can't wait to read your final thoughts on a certain 'event' happening after the reunion. wink wink

Now for a small general announcement. I've decided to upload the last five chapters in one go. I'm still a bit pre-occupied with the other story I'm writing and there's IRL stuff that needs quite a bit more of my attention.

So, Companion Teresa and Elbafo, thank you both for always taking the time to leave me a kind review. And Feuilledelune56, thank you for jumping in as well. I really appreciate it.

* S *

"So, everybody will be there? Who's idea was that?" Sherlock grumbled, but one glance at his baby daughter, safely asleep in the curve of his arm, brought a smile to his face.

"Yours." Kyrie couldn't hold back a smile of her own. They were headed to the Bridge Field to have a picnic, close to where the Bridge would open. Now that she no longer felt like a pit of despair, Kyrie could appreciate a sunny day like this again. She enjoyed the soft rays of the sun and a warm feeling spread inside of her as they continued their way along the grassy hill that ruffled by pleasant breezes.

Mycroft would soon cross over, taking St John with him. Even though they would return in a mere few hours, Sherlock had decided that Kyrie and her son had been separated for long enough. More importantly, Kyrie suspected that, just in case something went wrong, Sherlock would not want to be stranded here with one very important person missing from their family. His son.

"You told them to gather there if they wanted answers to their questions." Kyrie reminded him.

"Why didn't you stop me?"

Kyrie rubbed her hand over his arm. "Because, besides answers, they probably also want a chance to say goodbye."

Sherlock had been adamant, he wanted to leave this place as quickly as decency allowed. He appeared to be thoroughly done with alternate realities for a lifetime. Mycroft was the one who'd stay behind and see to the business end of things. Sherlock had been very vague about that one though… Business end of things… Whatever that meant.

"Right," Sherlock said, though he didn't sound too sure. "Sentiment?" He raised an enquiring brow at her. She had to repress a laugh. "Sentiment."

"You were only here for a few weeks! What right do they have for sentiment?"

"I was here for months. They did take me in when I had no where to go and they took care of me and Evelina."

"No they didn't! Look at you!" Sherlock made a gesture at her. "Your eyes are all wrong again."

Evelina gave a little squawk, poor thing was startled by the sudden movement. "Sorry darling," Sherlock muttered, "allow me to give you lesson number one. People are idiots. All of them. Some of them. Your mother is very generous and kind-hearted and by now will say no ill words of the rabble that mistreated her here. Her eyes tell a different story however..."

Kyrie rolled her eyes in silence as Sherlock continued his tirade in hushed tones.

"You may have to sing again. Preferably as soon as possible," Sherlock said out of the blue.

Kyrie huffed. "I'm not going to sing, Sherlock. I'm not in the right mood yet. I tried this morning and…. Well, in case you haven't noticed, I had very little reason to sing these past few months. And you know I can't hold my notes the way I used to not with–" She rolled back her shoulder.

"Your voice is still beautiful and I really need you to sing."

"Why?" Kyrie asked him, throwing up her hands in exasperation.

Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks, earning him another indignant little squawk from Evelina. He gently patted her bottom with his hand. Kyrie instantly sought his eyes and saw the dead serious look that had clouded them.

"Because I can't bear to see you like this," he said softly after a long moment of silence.

He didn't need to explain any further. She understood. Even after all these years, even though he had stored all of those events away, there were times he still felt uncomfortable about all the pain he'd caused her. It had taken a long time back then before her eyes had regained the soft violet hues he loved so much.

"Then I'll try my best, for you, when we're alone..." she smiled up at him.

They continued their walk in a leisurely pace, even though Kyrie felt like rushing ahead. St John would soon be here! When they reached the field Kyrie saw they were pretty much the last of the party to arrive. When she first appeared in this world, that field had been an empty wilderness, now the grass had been cut and several picnic tables were already covered with bright tablecloths. To the side, long tables were carrying a varying assortment of food and refreshments. How all of this was accomplished in the space of just a day and a half… she had no idea.

"There they are now!" John's voice carried over to where Kyrie and Sherlock stopped to stand and take in the scene in front of them. Mycroft and other-Sherlock were standing close together, but their postures were so stiff and awkward, one might think they were mere acquaintances instead of brothers. John was stealing a finger sandwich from a plate, earning him a slap on the hand by Mary, who was still busy setting the long tables together with Molly. Mrs Hudson greeted them with her customary 'ooh-ooh!' as she put down a bowl of punch.

Lestrade was there as well, taking a long sip from a glass of beer. Philip Anderson and Sally Donovan stood next to him. Who the hell had thought that inviting her was a good idea?

"From the way your hand is cutting off the blood circulation in my arm, I assume that some of the guests do not meet your approval?" Her husband softly inquired, causing her to instantly stop squeezing said arm to a mush.

"Sorry!" she whispered. "I can't help it, I don't think I ever really forgave Donovan, plus I just don't like her. And Molly…" Kyrie sighed a weary sigh. "Molly has as much of a crush on you here as she did at home. Only our Molly was able to move on. I can't tell you how happy I am that you introduced her to Jonathan."

"That did work out rather splendidly, didn't it? I take it then you don't want to drag this out any longer than necessary?" he asked her sounding quite hopeful.

"Hell no!" Kyrie uttered, keeping her voice as soft as possible as people were already moving in on them. "Except..."

A familiar figure hurried over to them. The soft groan conveyed exactly how Sherlock felt about this. It would be impossible to get away with a ten minute explanation before pulling off their vanishing act. Not with her…

"Where is my granddaughter?" Madge Holmes cried out, her hands already eagerly stretching out while she was still a ways off.

"Who thought it was a good idea to bring her up to speed?" Sherlock groaned in dismay.

"You did. Well, the other you did," Kyrie said as she patted his arm.

"He's an idiot."

Kyrie merely smiled.

Madge stopped right in front of Sherlock, but when he didn't seem inclined to instantly hand over the precious bundle he was holding, Madge looked up at him and her arms fell lamely to her sides. The look Sherlock gave her instantly put her in her place.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I understand you will soon leave. I would like to at least have a chance to hold her before you go."

Kyrie gently nudged her husband, a silent reminder that soon they would be together and he'd have all the time in the world to fuss over Evelina. Sherlock gave a her slight nod before he smiled a frankly frightening smile at his mother, before begrudgingly handing her his daughter.

"Thank you," she said. Madge looked Sherlock up and down, the more mature Sherlock that was not her son. She gave a wistful sigh before she nodded at one of the picnic tables. "I'll be over there, if you don't mind."

Kyrie could feel the muscles underneath her hand flex in anger but Sherlock, thank goodness, kept his mouth shut and refrained from saying something spiteful.

It seemed to anger him that she showed no signs of interest in him at all, save that one cursory glance.

"We are leaving, Sherlock. I think it might be painful for her, knowing that somewhere else a more well-rounded version of her son is raising grandchildren she will never get to know."

He relaxed under her touch. Then a strange static noise caught her attention, it caught everyone's attention.

"Are you sure it's safe? I took quite a fall," she whispered nervously, "and other-Greg said there'd been an explosion."

"You were pushed, they are only stepping through," Sherlock assured her. "And the explosion was not on this side, but ours when the machine was forced in use without proper… calibration."

When her brother-in-law suddenly seemed to appear out of thin air, her breath caught in her throat. Then her gaze fell on a small boy with a mop of dark curls on his head, who's eyes instantly scanned the small gathering. Her throat constricted painfully.

St John! Her hand flew to her chest when he noticed her and instantly pulled himself free from his uncle. Her little boy ran to her as fast as his little legs could carry him.

He didn't yell, he didn't cry, he made no sound at all, but his gaze was firmly fixed on her as he ran across the field.

Unable to take a single step, Kyrie sank to the ground and simply spread her arms to catch her son as he launched himself to her. His arms flew around her and he buried his face in the curve of her neck.

"My boy!" Kyrie managed to choke out, overwhelmed by emotions. "My sweet boy! Oh, how I've missed you!" She clutched her son close to her as though she never wanted to let him go again. Kyrie went to stand, picking up St John as she did so. She was smiling and laughing through her tears. St John seemed quite content to stay right where he was.

When she felt she could trust herself to not breakdown crying again, Kyrie looked up and saw Mycroft walking up to them. Her Mycroft. And there the tears went flowing again. She laughed at him and pulled him in for a bit of an awkward hug with St John in the way. "It's so good to see you, My," she said softly.

He pulled back to look down at her with a smile, but the smile was short lived when he looked at her closely. "Is it? Really?" Mycroft turned his head and gave his other self a withering look. Kyrie was grateful that this time she was not on the receiving end of it.

"You have no idea," she muttered.

"Oh, I think I have an inkling." Mycroft then gave her a quick kiss on her head; he was practically gushing. "Well, let's get this started, shall we? Let's not exceed the five hour window this time."

"Five hour window?" Kyrie asked.

"Not important," Sherlock said with a tight smile as he guided her and St John to the spot where everyone else, save Madge, seemed to have assembled in a small group.

"Okay, you've got questions." Sherlock looked at the various faces staring back at him with varying looks of confusion, curiosity and surprise written all over them.

"Yes, we have questions! Like, what the hell is going on? How is this possible?" Lestrade gestured between Kyrie's husband and the Sherlock he knew.

"Science. In our reality there was a scientist who worked on an incredible theory for years with his assistant. Somehow, and please don't ask me to go into detail because I've already deleted most of it, they managed to put the theory to practice and a Matter Bridge was created. A lot of dull stuff not worth remembering was involved and something to do with particles. Lots and lots of particles."

"How did you… or she… end up here then?" Greg's bushy eyebrows threatened to leave his face again.

"There was an accident. The scientist, Professor Hawthorne, got qualms about travelling to other universes. Let's just say that keeping the connection running for too long, is not a good thing. His assistant did not feel like giving up and Hawthorne was killed.

"Cassidy secretly wanted to continue the project but, he left me out of the equation. Kyrie ended up here and I ended up searching across an impressive number of different realities trying to find her again. It only took this long because after each trip the bloody machine needed time to cool down or cool off or reset."

Mycroft held up a notebook in his right hand. "My brother made a detailed account of what he saw during his trips. There's some interesting stuff in here. You see, so many realities, so many different directions. All of the knowledge we gained, could help prevent some nasty occurrences in this reality, like war, or a worldwide pandemic… We came up with the idea of continuing the use of the Bridge and start exchanging information with the different realities, to all of our benefits."

Then Mycroft lowered his hand and a scowl appeared on his face. He stepped forward and even Kyrie gulped seeing the sinister look that darkened his eyes. "That was the idea at least."

He continued, his voice dangerous and low. "But right now I feel more inclined to just head back and let you stew in your own self made misery. It would serve you right. And that would be me being kind. Newsflash..." Mycroft smiled at them and Kyrie shuddered. Now that… was the real Iceman, putting the other-Iceman to shame.

"… I'm not kind. You really should have treated her better."

"Would you have?" Other-Sherlock asked him in a daring tone. "If the roles had been reversed, would you have treated her any better?"

Mycroft didn't need to think for an answer. He smiled unapologetically. "I guess we'll never find out. At any rate, my dear sister-in-law is already batting her eyelashes at me." He swivelled around to give her a look down his aquiline nose. "I'm not doing this for you!"

"No, of course not," Kyrie muttered meekly. She felt like hugging and kissing his dear face.

"Very well. Mycroft Holmes, care to follow me to my office?"

Other-Mycroft folded his arms and tried to give her Mycroft an intimidating look. "Don't you mean my office?"

"Not really. Now follow along if you please… Or should I conclude you are not interested in this file?" Mycroft waved it in front of him. Other-Mycroft gave him a sour look but followed anyway.

"Here…" Sherlock gently took her elbow. "Let's take a seat over there. Holding St John must be taxing on your muscles. Five hours… That's all they will get. It's all they can get. Then we will go."

Sherlock kept a hawklike watch on his other-Mummy as she cradled his daughter. Kyrie could see how annoyed he was with the way she paraded around as though she was the actual grandmother. She also noticed how he kept glancing at his watch. She didn't comment on his desire to leave. For one because she was more than ready to take up her actual life again, but also because those brief glances seemed to comfort him. A five-hour window. She would ask later why that was important. For now, Kyrie simply smiled because Sherlock was counting down the time, eager to go home.

They were seated on one of the wooden benches, not too far from the spot where they would leave this reality behind. Kyrie was holding St John in her lap, cradling him close to her, his head resting on her shoulder. He was fast asleep.

The people of this reality were giving them a moment together. Even though it was obvious Mary was full of questions… she kept glancing their way every few minutes.

The other-Sherlock was probably counting down the seconds. He seemed to be anxious for them to leave as soon as possible, considering the scowl on his face.

John – oh, loyal John! – was keeping his best friend company. The impatient look on his face betrayed that he too was dying to know more about her husband…

No doubt questions about the relationship that existed between her husband and her John and Mary, and the depth of it.

Lestrade, Anderson and Donovon kept together and merely sent them a couple of curious looks every now and again. Kyrie smiled as she imagined Anderson telling his companions all sorts of absurd conspiracy theories. It was probably best to not to give them too much consideration. As was the case in her own reality, Anderson and Donovon had betrayed Sherlock in this one. At least 'her' Anderson had atoned for his sins and had become a regular visitor to their home at Weston Street. She wasn't sure about these two, but perhaps the fact that other-Sherlock had invited them for this picnic was as good an answer as any.

Mrs Hudson kept providing everyone with snacks and drinks, despite her bad hip and the fact she liked to tell everyone she was not their waitress. She kept a close vicinity to Madge, who simply refused to hand over Evelina to anyone. Mrs Hudson was also, it seemed, having a hard time staying away from Kyrie and her Sherlock. She based that assumption on the fact that Mrs Hudson also kept glancing in their direction with an open look if longing in her eyes.

Kyrie sighed when she noticed a certain person was yet again staring at her. She knew that the eyes that were closely watching her, showed signs of deep longing alternating with intense jealousy. Molly. This Molly was so much like the Molly she'd once known, back when she was still crushing on Sherlock, it made her feel highly uncomfortable.

Kyrie was immensely grateful for the fact that 'her' Molly was ecstatically happy with Jonathan Creek for more reasons than just one. The poor bugger was socially as awkward as Sherlock, if not even more so. Perhaps that's why Molly had needed but five minutes to fall in love with him. "Do you want to go to bed with me?" Jonathan had asked her, and when Molly treated them to this savoury morsel of information while having tea with Kyrie and Mary, she had cried with laughter because he hadn't meant it like that at all. "I'm not good on subtext with women. I thought it would be safest just to ask." That was his poor explanation...

With her feelings for her Sherlock fully resolved, they were no longer an obstacle preventing a growing, warm friendship. Molly and Jonathan, like Anderson, were regular visitors, and their building friendship was the true gift. Sherlock and Jonathan, despite both of their social awkwardness, got along famously and Kyrie had gotten to know an entirely different side of Molly. Her Molly was surprisingly sweet and though her girlish naivety was sometimes too prevalent, she was unmistakably a very sharp and intelligent woman.

It was very painful to see this Molly reduced again to nothing more but a pathetic, simpering, lovestruck woman who was too insecure to handle her feelings and not skilled enough either to hide them. A woman who, without the intervention of Sherlock, was likely doomed to always covet him from a distance. It made Kyrie feel a depth of sorrow and she planned on having a girl's night with Mary and Molly as soon as possible!

Madge walked over to her son again with a determined gait, as if showing him Evelina often enough would finally make him cave, find a nice woman and settle down. The scowl on other-Sherlock's face conveyed precisely how he felt about her too obvious machinations.

His mother… Kyrie couldn't help but feel sorry for her as the woman looked quite torn underneath it all. She could also understand her husband's wariness because Madge did have that look of quiet desperation. The way she clutched Evelina to her bosom…

It was a sight that made Kyrie feel very sad as well, so she dropped another kiss on top of St John's head. That small action, together with the comforting smell of his shampoo that still lingered in his curly locks, had the power to chase all feelings of sadness away.

When Kyrie felt a more welcome and very familiar gaze settle on her, she turned her head sideways and found her husband quietly studying her with a contemplative look in his eyes.

"I still can't believe you found me," she said, wishing she could lean her face against his arm, but St John was in the way.

Sherlock merely hummed, but the warmth in that sound betrayed his contentment. "Of course I found you. I always will. It just took a me a bit this time. Not my fault though. I never claimed any knowledge about building a space-time matter bridge."

"Did you have to go to many universes before you found me?"

Sherlock made a face. "Quite a few. It proved to be quite a frustrating ordeal to finally find the correct one. You didn't exist in several of them. In some you had never existed at all, in some you had died, and in some… let's not get into that. And I was pretty much a big arsehole in all of them. So, not a big difference there."

Kyrie snorted with laughter and lightly bumped his arm. When she looked back at him, his eyes were warm and vivid green, sparkling with flecks of amber.

"There was this one universe though… I – he – was with someone. Not you, someone else, and, somehow they were able to make it work. Not the best 'how I met you' story but then again, ours wasn't the greatest either."

She forced a smile but she knew it didn't quite reach her eyes. It was quite selfish, she realised, but she kind of liked the idea of them destined to love each other and only each other… no one else.

"He's not me, my dear." His soft words made Kyrie look back at him and for a moment she saw a spark of pain flash through his eyes. "It was unexpectedly confronting, to learn about all those me's and find out I'm a miserable, cold bastard in pretty much every reality. Knowing there's at least one version of me who isn't, it's somehow comforting."

"Then I'm glad," Kyrie said decisively, "very glad you found at least one more you who's as much loved as you are. You don't have to doubt that, because you'd never settle for anything less than a great and fulfilling..."

"Love. I can actually say the word now you know, and mean it too."

"I know." She gave him loving smile. "The other version of you though… I guess I just got used to your old habits again."

"Of being a callous prick," he muttered darkly.

That made her chuckle. "You weren't that bad."

He scoffed at her. "Yes, I was! Don't deny it, I have everything stored on my hard-drive."

"Everything?" She raised her brows.

"Yes. Every second from the moment you entered my life," Sherlock stated, sounding quite proud.

"Doesn't that take up a lot of space? I always thought you deleted the stuff that was no longer important? To conserve space on your 'hard-drive'."

"I do."

A simple statement that carried so much weight. He basically just told her that for him, each second they ever spent together was important enough to 'save'. Suddenly she bit her lip in humour.

"Every second?"

"Aye."

"How about the times you muted me?"

Sherlock opened his mouth to say something then clamped his lips together.

He gave her an annoyed look. "Really, you have to bring that up?"

Her laughter wiped the annoyed look from his face and Kyrie ignored the curious looks they received. Of course it would be strange for everyone here to see Sherlock interact in such an intimate and familiar way with a woman… who was his wife… and the mother of his children. A scenario, she bet, they never would have dreamed of being possible.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist… Did you just say Aye?"

"Hmm, it appears to be something I've picked up in one of the other realities. You don't mind, do you?"

"No," Kyrie replied, carefully studying his face. "It's just different. It sounds so… Shakespearean."

He chuckled. "They did love their Shakespeare."

She smiled back at him. "At any rate, I am very glad you never gave up on finding me, because, I have to admit… there was a time I gave up hope myself. I thought… I thought I'd never see you again."

For a moment Kyrie wondered what would have happened if her husband had not found her. Would she have stayed true to him? Or would her despair and longing have driven her into the arms of the other Sherlock? After all, at least on a biological level he was exactly the same man.

"I don't like the direction your thoughts are going. Please stop it, right now! And don't ask how I know, it's written all over your face."

"Well, excuse me for wondering!"

"It's utterly pointless to wonder. It will never happen. I found you, we are going home – together, and with a bit of luck, the other-me will not be alone for long either."

Kyrie narrowed her eyes at him. "Sherlock, what have you been up to?"

"Nothing much," he said with a grin, "Just a little parting gift on my end. He's fallen for you, you know. He's sick with jealousy right now."

Kyrie looked around and found the other-Sherlock glaring at her. She snorted at the ridiculousness of those words. "Oh, come on! He couldn't stand me and he's glad to be rid of me. Just look at him! He's a bit of a prick, very much like you used to be."

"Sick with jealousy," Sherlock repeated self-sure. "Don't forget. He's me and I'm him. If I only needed a day to fall for you, so did he. Don't let that glare fool you. If you'd ask him to trade places with me, he wouldn't have to think twice."

"To say no!" Still, Kyrie couldn't help but give the other-Sherlock another look. She couldn't deny the gleam she noticed in his eyes, but she couldn't agree with her husband either. It would mean she'd been oblivious to him falling in love with her. Then again… she'd always been oblivious to him falling in love with her, right up to the moment he finally convinced her with a kiss.

"You weren't aware at first of your feelings changing for me. That was a long process, Sherlock, that took quite some time – time he doesn't have. Whatever feelings you think he may have, they will surely go away."

"Hmm, no they won't. That's why I went to the trouble of finding you in this universe."

She gave him a look of surprise. "Here? But I never existed here!"

He smiled that self-sure smile of his. "Yes, you do. You were all just looking in the wrong direction."

Kyrie's mouth dropped open and she clutched St John to her a little tighter. He stirred a bit in his sleep. How he still managed to nearly strangle her with his little arms around her neck was beyond her. "Sherlock, my dad died before he even met my mother! They never got married, they never had me."

"As you well know, my dear, you don't have to be married to have a child. Your parents met all right, and, by the time your father met his untimely end, you..." he glanced at her still slightly protruding belly and he smiled fondly. "… you were already a little bun in the oven. That's why Lestrade was not able to find Kyrie Ellison. You are right on that account, Kyrie Ellison never existed here. Eryn Darlington, however."

"Eryn Darlington?" Kyrie suddenly felt pretty stupid. Of course! Darlington was her mother's maiden name. It seemed so obvious now that not every universe would result in her being named Kyrie Ellison. Why hadn't she thought of that?

Sherlock could read the silent question in her eyes. "She's doing quite well as a sous chef in a local restaurant. In fact, with the executive chef having recently been offered a job in Paris, there's a likely chance Eryn will take over. She's not as introvert as you are and has quite a circle of friends and acquaintances."

He went silent at those words and seemed to mull them over. "Hmm, I do predict some problems there." When Kyrie gave him a questioning look, he merely smiled and leaned in to her. "I don't like to share," he whispered.

Kyrie grinned fondly at him and nudged him to continue.

"Eryn is doing well. So is her mother and they are very close together."

She had to swallow away a lump at the mention of her mother, the other her's mother. "So, what did you do?" she whispered hoarsely.

"Oh, I found out where she lives and I advised other-me to pay that address a visit after we leave."

"Does he know who lives there?"

"He knows that his next case lives there. Other than that? Not a clue," he said with a smirk. They both started laughing, startling poor St John awake.

"Are we going home yet?" he asked, his voice drowsy with sleep.

"Soon, darling," Kyrie placated her son and she kissed the top of his curls.

As it turned out, 'soon' was not a lie because suddenly the moment they would leave had arrived. Now reunited with Sherlock and her son, her daughter safely in his arms, Kyrie could muster to feel and show some kindness when they said their goodbyes. Even St John was willing to free her from his death grip so she could give a few hugs and kisses here and there.

Mrs Hudson received a big hug, Madge, Molly and nearly all the others a clumsy handshake and Greg pulled her into a big bear hug. John and Mary… though they were friendly, now at least, their eyes lacked the same warmth of her own dear friends. Still, when they hugged, Kyrie felt quite emotional. Lastly there was Sherlock, standing there rather awkwardly when Kyrie pulled him in for a quick hug. "Don't wait too long with that case Sherlock gave you…" she whispered. "And say goodbye to Mycroft for me."

Sherlock guided her to the place where he knew the portal to be. One last glance over her shoulder. It was a bittersweet moment. Until she looked up at her husband's smiling face and she placed her hand in his. Together with St John, they took one step spanning a thousand miles to finally return to the place she belonged… Home.