We're all living in the same universe
Where the stars collide as the planets turn
But I'll give my love, I don't care if it hurts
'Cause I'll love you 'til the end
I'll love you 'til the end of the earth

- MARINA - End of the Earth -

They landed without any trouble and got into the car Jim had sent for them without any difficulty, and they were on their way. Lorna watched out the window as the familiar city passed. Even this was a comfort - she was tired of leaving it behind without it being her own damn choice.

The car pulled into the subterranean parking lot, and Lorna felt something akin to relief. It wasn't totally relief - she wasn't sure she would feel that again for a long time, not with Sebastian sick - but the weight on her chest lifted a few tons off, and she took in a deep breath as she stepped out. Home. Safety. A place she could let her guard down, however little. And, most importantly, where Sebastian was.

Jim was waiting in the garage, and nodded as Lorna stepped out, looking her over quickly, searching for signs of injury. "Were you at any time unconscious while under the care of Holmes, that you are aware?" he asked clinically.

Lorna screwed up her face a little in distaste at the line of questioning, but had to admit it was a good one, and tilted her head back to look at the ceiling as she thought. "I mean, I was asleep? But I never woke up with any fresh incisions. We can do the x-rays anyway, if it makes you feel better." She glanced over her shoulder as Ratree stepped out of the vehicle, and looked grimly disappointed in her own line of thought. "Might want to run her through them, too. Ratree, meet the boss."

He looked the woman over, easily picking out the genetic cues and confirming that Mycroft had not, in fact, been lying. This was Sebastian's mother. Not that a test for her compatibility wouldn't be taken anyway.

"Welcome. I'm sure you understand the urgency of the situation. We'll proceed directly to medical to run tests and confirm compatibility."

Ratree nodded. "Yes, I understand. I'll do what must be done," she said, voice strong. Lorna nodded a little, approvingly. She also wanted to get to medical.

"Can I see Sebastian?" She asked softly, her eyes on Jim again.

He nodded as they started walking. "Yes, but you'll need to shower and change first, and wear a mask and gloves. He has very little by way of an immune system at the moment."

Her stomach sank, but it made sense. What else had she expected? She walked with him. "Alright. Whatever needs to be done, as long as I can see him."

It was almost four hours later that she was finally allowed into Sebastian's room.

Several scans had occurred first, the technicians on standby to begin as soon as they entered medical. X-rays, a CATscan, an MRI, bloodwork... All to ensure that there were no foreign bodies or substances, no diseases, no poisons, nothing. Once she had been cleared, she was given a place to shower and sanitize, and fresh clothes, along with a mask and gloves. Then- and only then- was she led through to a wing of medical usually reserved for if Moriarty himself required treatment.

Sebastian lay in a hospital bed, propped up slightly, sleeping. At least, context clues said it was Sebastian. But the man in the bed was skeletal, with deeply yellow, jaundiced skin and sunken eyes, and limp, thinned hair that was well in its way to greying completely. Wires ran off of him in every direction, a cannula providing a steady rhythm of oxygen which synchronized with the slow beep of his heart monitor. His body was emaciated, his familiar muscles long since faded away, his scars standing out in livid relief against his skin. He looked less like himself, and more like a creature from some horror movie.

She didn't respond to the sight of him how anybody who knew her might have expected her to. There were no tears, no matter how much her heart ached. It barely felt real, honestly. That helped. She sat by his bedside, her hand resting on just the tips of his fragile fingers, and she waited. For what, she didn't know. Until someone told her to leave, likely.

He opened his eyes about an hour after she arrived, phasing back into reality slowly. The world was blurred for a while, but when he finally got it into focus, he was uncertain if he was awake or if they'd just given him some new painkiller. Speaking was a chore, so he tapped his fingers against the figure's hesitantly, waiting for it to disappear.

She blinked at the touch, returning from faraway thoughts, and smiled under the mask. " Hi," she whispered. Her voice was laden with the emotion that she could not show - the desire to crush him to her, to kiss him as hard as she could, to grip his hand tight in hers. She slid her hand under his, grasping it gently, her thumb stroking over the back of his hand. "I'm home."

He gathered in a bit of air, studying her face. "Took you... long enough," he managed in two breaths, trying to make his voice as strong as he could manage. She was afraid. He could see it in what of her face showed past the mask. He wanted to fix it, but he couldn't. Not yet.

She increased the pressure on his hand very gently, in a small squeeze. "I know," she said back, apologetically. "There were some... delays. I'll tell you all about it soon. Your mother is here. I think I actually like her, which is a surprise," she chuckled softly, looking down at him warmly. He was right, she was afraid. But it wasn't just fear she was feeling. As sick as he was, as unfamiliar to her he looked right now, she was finally with him again. Nothing had been worse than fearing his decline from afar. At least here, her imagination couldn't get the better of her.

He squeezed her hand back, and gave a weak laugh. "This is... A switch..." he croaked. Fuck, his voice was busted. "You'll have to... Introduce... Me to... My mother..."

She laughed quietly. "We can put her in a bed next to yours after the surgery, if you want," she joked, "let you get to know each other a little, huh?" She smirked, well aware they both knew Sebastian liked to take getting to know people slowly. 'Liked' wasn't even the right word - begrudgingly accepted seemed more accurate.

"Not a bad... idea..." he said with a small nod. "Fucking... boring here..." He studied her face, looking for any injuries. "You alright?"

She nodded, squeezing his hand a little again. "Got out unscathed. Got lucky, I think, but I took advantage of it. Saw Anton again - not sure you remember him - remember that big Russian guy at DeWitt's? Ran into him. He got me a knife, and a few weeks later I got to finish Luciano off with it." Her smile grew a little sharper under her mask, her eyes gaining that hunter's edge. "That's a satisfying memory."

He smiled, too, a ghoulish expression, and shifted, tugging her a little. "C'mere?" he asked hoarsely.

All he had to do was ask. She nodded slightly, taking a moment to stand and assess the best way to climb past the tubes and wires, and after a minute of careful maneuvering and ginger hand-placements, she settled herself at his side, her head resting on his boney shoulder, at least until he indicated he was uncomfortable - then she'd find somewhere else. Her arm she carefully slung across his chest, resisting the urge to squeeze. She wasn't entirely certain how fragile he was, honestly - she'd been around wounded people a lot, frequently, even, but illness? Not so much. She'd never seen anybody fighting an illness like this. So she treated him as best she knew how - which meant gentle contact. The rest, the doctors would give her some kind of clue. Them, or Jim. She let out a deep breath as she sank into the hospital bed and his side, closing her eyes for the moment. He didn't smell completely himself. Most of it was there, but... ah. The gunpowder was missing. "I missed you," she said, voice soft. "Probably goes without saying."

She settled in, and she was so warm that it almost took his breath away. He hadn't had real human contact for so fucking long... Jim came around, sure, and the nurses who took care of him... But not like this. "Heh. Wimp," he muttered, but he tilted his head to rest against hers.

She smiled a little, and gave him the tiniest squeeze, half for him, half for her, to just solidify his presence in her mind. His usual furnace status was gone, for the moment - he was lukewarm, instead of the usual blazing heat that radiated from him.

He was quiet for a minute, just enjoying her presence, then asked, "Did they say when they're going to do the surgery?"

"No. As soon as possible, I would imagine. I think they're running another compatibility check on your mother," she responded quietly. "She didn't know anything. About you, or the sickness. She took it rather well, honestly."

He shrugged a little. "Not surprised... Mycroft." He shifted until he could see her face. "There's risks..."

"I know," she said, almost too softly to hear over the machines in the room, looking into his icy blue eyes. Those, at least, were very recognizable. "What other choice do we have?"

He shook his head. "None," he admitted quietly. "Just saying." He paused, considering, then said "I know you've... seen my... will... Was there... anything unclear...?"

Her chest ached at the question, but there was nothing she could do about it. "I've never actually seen it. Jim summarized. I'm not sure I remember it now. It was a rough time."

He nodded just a little. "Mostly simple... Make Keira... go to school... For a bit... Okay?" He gave her a smile. "I'll be... fine. Just... In case."

She snorted with amused surprise, but nodded. "Alright. I will." She shifted, propping herself up enough that she could run her fingers through his hair. "You sound tired - do you want to sleep? I'll be here for as long as I can."

He shook his head slightly. "Don't want to... No... But I'll... Probably... have... To." He sighed, frustrated and tired. He shifted his hand slowly to grab hers, gripping it tightly.

She gripped it back, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Don't worry, soon we'll have all the time in the world," she murmured, and kissed him again before going back to carding her fingers through his hair. It was a promise she had no power to keep, but if her powers of lying couldn't be used for comfort, what was the point? Right now, here, where they both needed it?

"I'm glad... you're back," he said softly. He could hear her heartbeat, and her warmth was making it hard to stay awake. "I love you."

For a second she felt so full of love that she didn't know what to do with it. Then she smoothed a hand over his forehead and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "I love you too. More than anything." She returned quietly. She shifted down next to him again, though she kept her hand near his face, stroking her thumb softly across his cheek.

He closed his eyes, and it took him no time at all to fall asleep.

A nurse entered the room an hour or so later. "Ms. Harrison?" she asked softly, nodding toward the door questioningly.

She nodded, quickly but carefully extricating herself from the bed. She gave one last look back at him before following the nurse out of the room.

The nurse closed the door, and gave her a smile. "Good news," she offered. "His mother is a match. Our tests just confirmed it. They're preparing her for surgery now, and they'll be doing the same for him. We should be proceeding shortly."

Lorna let out a whoosh of a breath, nodding understanding. "Thank you for informing me. I should find the boss - he hasn't had a chance to debrief me. Do you know where he is?"

"In his office. I can show you the way- it's just down the hall." She nodded to the left.

He'd moved his office to the medical wing? At the very least, copied it? Sometimes she forgot Jim cared. She said a word of thanks to the nurse and a polite refusal for guidance, and then walked off. His door was labeled with a plaque of his initials. She knocked twice, pulling the mask off as she did.

"Come in, Harrison," he called, leaning back in his chair. The room was much smaller than his upper level office, though not cramped. It had no windows, which he disliked, but he made up for it with a large fish tank that took up one wall. Something to watch. It didn't really matter which species of goldfish he watched, particularly.

She opened the door and stepped in, shutting it behind her and walking over to sit across the desk from him. Her weariness was beginning to show itself- the stress from two months of continuous mission while Sebastian withered at home making itself known. Still, she smiled a little at Jim. "Nice fish tank."

"I thought so," he agreed, turning to watch a small shark glide past along the bottom of the tank. "Did he wake up at all?"

Her smile grew just slightly. "Yes, he did. We talked for a little while, then he fell asleep again." She paused for a moment, looking at the fishtank as well. "You aware that if he dies - and probably if he isn't - he wants Keira to go to school? I'd start thinking of a replacement bodyguard now, while you have the time," She finished, glancing over at him, tired amusement in her demeanor.

"They're perfectly capable of receiving an education while they are in my employ," he said dryly. "I'll see to it." He glanced her way. "Any other wisdom he saw fit to impart?"

"Oh, they? God, I've just been missing everything, haven't I?" she snorted, then shook her head a little. "Other than letting me know his feelings, no. You know him. What's the point in getting into it if he can write it down and avoid the sapiness?"

He laughed, and nodded. "At least he's kept some semblance of dignity. I was worried you'd drained it all out of him."

She smirked. "Out of most men, maybe. Not him. You know him better than that."

He nodded a little, turning back to face her and motioning to the chair across the desk. "I'm shocked Mycroft was being truthful. I'm still waiting for however this is meant to go wrong."

She grimaced. "I think he's decided we're more useful alive than dead. Grudges he may have, but an ever-burning drive to do what's best for Britain, he also has. And if you can use a disposable piece to take care of another criminal element, you can do it again, can't you? We'll hear from him again, is my bet. He'll have something we want, something we won't be able to get without him, and he'll ask for another task to be completed. Moran will hate it, you'll play the game, I'll do whatever I have to. You know, the usual. And if he fucks it up now - the letting us trust he'll follow through - his leverage for the future is gone." She sighed, rubbing her eyes with her wrist, considering she hadn't taken her gloves off. "Let's hope we won't need whatever he offers."

Jim nodded. "Good insight. I think you may have stumbled on a few more brain cells in the last few years, shockingly." He glanced at a small monitor to the left side of the office. A security camera of Moran's room. Nurses were there, prepping him for surgery. "You should know, I've officially decommissioned him. He's retired."

She knew the brain cell comment was about as close to a compliment as she was going to get from Jim (though, "Good insight?" There was a compliment) so she didn't react until the news about Moran's decommission was given to her. Her eyes widened slightly, and she blinked. "Oh." She said. She hadn't known that was an option. Maybe it hadn't been. She looked at the monitor, and then back to him. "What's the plan, if he makes it? We both know he'd never betray you, so letting him free in the world would be... possible..." She trailed off, shaking her head a little, somewhat struggling to absorb this information. Her main concern, however, was of course whether she would be allowed to be with him. Her gaze was locked on the boss, willing him to say what she wanted to hear. Don't take him from me. Please.

He shook his head. "Free isn't a good word. He'll stay on as an...advisor. Without formal assignments or responsibilities. Consulted for his expertise, and otherwise left to recover and live his life. If he wishes to establish a residence elsewhere, I have no objection, but he'll be monitored."

She nodded a little, the knot in her chest releasing a little again. Somebody else might have asked for their own status, for their own release, but she didn't. She'd known entering the network there was no way out, and that was very unlikely to change. She was not Sebastian - the only person, she could be certain, that Jim had ever cried for - and she was not sick. If she was, she suspected she'd be put down, were it not for any interference from Sebastian. She operated under the assumption that she was useful to Jim, and not much else. Still, the fear that had once accompanied that knowledge was gone now. She wondered when that had happened. "Does he know? He'll be pissed being sidelined when myself or Keira have a job to do."

He nodded. "He does. I thought it best to tell him when he was physically incapacitated, for my own benefit." He gave a wry smile, though the scars of Sebastian's initials twinged slightly at the memory. "He took it... unnervingly well. I have no doubt that he'll have more objections once he is more physically sound. But for the moment, he doesn't have the energy to argue."

"I suppose that makes sense, yeah," she agreed wearily, leaning back further in her chair. She watched the fish tank again. "So, anything you want to know about the mission that you haven't picked up already?"

He sighed. "Who killed Luciano? Your best guess?" he asked, bending to open a drawer in the desk. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, and poured.

She snorted. "I did. He would have lived if I hadn't slit his throat. But the shooter?" She shrugged. "You said it wasn't you, Mycroft wouldn't have sabotaged the mission, like you also said. Armetti, perhaps, but it's strange he didn't take credit. Maybe another Italian crime lord. But rarely does anything happen to us by coincidence."

He nodded. "That's really the only question I have unanswered. If you get answers, let me know. Other than that, no. It seems like it was relatively straightforward."

She shrugged, in noncommittal agreement. It hadn't felt straight forward, but it was done and she'd completed it, so it wasn't worth fussing over. Then she looked up. "Actually, on the topic of information: did you know Armetti started over? Killed off his entire network, replaced it?"

He nodded. "I did. The network went quiet and I looked into it. Armetti's saying there was a major security breach, and this was the best way to rectify it. It's a little drastic, but you can't fault his methods. Still, I'm keeping him under close surveillance."

She quirked her head a little at his comment on it being the best way to rectify it, leaning forward to take the glass of whiskey he'd poured her a couple minutes ago, and taking a large sip. "Should I go see him? For now we've been able to trust he won't do anything to me - I could try and get a handle on what he's fucking doing. Not that I want... to be leaving here so soon. Not now."

"Not now," he agreed. "But after things here are settled... That may be a good idea. I'm not certain. I'd rather not lose a valuable asset, and if he's willing to kill off his entire network, he isn't stable."

She clicked her tongue in agreement, taking another sip of the whiskey while she thought about it. "I'd rather not have to worry about Armetti while Euros is still out there, but..." She shook her head a little. "We should check when he pulled that mass-killing off." Her suspicion was that it had occurred soon after she'd told him that she was getting married the next day over the phone, but she didn't want that to be the case. She wanted this to be unrelated to her, to be somehow not her fault. He was dangerous - hadn't she realized this back before Jim had absorbed Armetti's network, while they were fighting Mallory in New York? Why had she ever forgotten? Was it just her own hubris, her own inflated sense of his love for her?

She took another swallow of whiskey.

"It was while you were with Luciano," he said with a sigh. "I'm fairly certain that- leak or no- it was at least partly influenced by my orders that he not go after you. I really should make sure he knows you're actually alive before he does something drastic, I suppose."

Well, that was something, at least. "Too late, on the drastic count," she sighed. "A network isn't an easy thing to just... replace. But yes, you should tell him. I would, but I'm so tired of leading that man on," she added, rubbing her eyes wearily.

"That isn't drastic," he sighed, flicking open his laptop. "Bombing New York is drastic."

She snorted. "Yes, I suppose it would be. So what do you call it then?"

"Aggressively practical," he said with the hint of a smile, rapidly composing an email and sending it off. He picked up his drink, draining in one, and set it down to refill. "Let's get drunk," he said decisively. "We have a long wait."

"Yes. Excellent idea," Lorna agreed immediately, tossing back the rest of hers and sliding her glass across the desk to him. She let him fill it again and leaned forward to take it back, her grey eyes settling on him. "And what about you? How are you... for lack of a better phrase, holding up?"

"Oh, I don't think we're quite drunk enough for that, Harrison, do you?" He gave her a disdainful smirk. "What do you think of his mother?"

She shrugged at his dismissal, as if it was worth a shot. It was. "I like her. I'd find it a shame if she turned out to be something other than what she says she is. Me and Moran are thin enough on family as it is."

He laughed. "Please tell me your assessment of her isn't based solely on your sentimentality. What am I paying you for? What do you think of her?"

She chuckled, shaking her head. "My gut feeling is worth more than you think, but no. I..." She tapped her finger against the edge of her glass, thinking. "I think she's sincere. I think she's too uninformed to be a mole. Mycroft wouldn't fuck with his mole like that. And she could be lying, but I don't get that sense. Especially because you saw her and didn't raise the alarm."

Jim nodded, taking another long sip of his drink, letting the whiskey sit on his tongue, growing bitter, before he swallowed. "I'm inclined to agree with you. And she is, if nothing else, a match for Moran. If we have to deal with her later, then we'll make her a well-kept prisoner in case we ever need another organ."

She nodded. "Good idea. We should all be so lucky as to have one laying around," she snorted, leaning back in her chair and rubbing the back of her wrist against her forehead, sighing deeply. She was tired. She just wanted to sleep until Sebastian was out of surgery.

He had a habit of reading minds. "Go sleep. You'll be woken the moment we have any news. But it's been what... almost twenty-four hours?"

She drank the rest of her whiskey more out of obligation than enjoyment, leaning forward to put the glass down. "Almost twenty-four hours since what - since I slept?" She squinted a little in the middle space. "Sooner than that. I got a few hours in the safe house. But regardless..." she stood, making it clear it was a good idea she intended to put to use. She chuckled. "My bed where I left it? Seb's bed?"

"Your apartment is untouched, except to be cleaned and have perishables removed. It's been restocked in anticipation of your arrival." He waved her off. "Go on. Your cat has been returned as well. It's undoubtedly clawing at things, unless Keira stuck around to keep an eye on it."

Magpie. And Keira, too, if she was lucky. She could hold off sleep an hour to catch up. "Thanks, Jim," she said as a farewell, and headed out, excitement warring with her weariness and leaving her at a reasonably normal pace. She was in and out of the elevator and thumbing open the door lock in five minutes, not sure how bubbly to enter the room. Magpie would appreciate it - kinda. Keira? Less so.

Keira was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, tugging a piece of string around for Magpie. Magpie was different than Lorna remembered. She'd grown into her paws and ears, and her body was much longer, if not yet fuller. She was no longer a kitten so much as a young cat. Keira was different, too. Their suit complimented a still-curved figure, but they had a fine dusting of stubble and their face was more angular. Their hair was still cropped short and dyed blond, and between that and the stubble they looked more like Moran than Moran did, at the moment.

"Hey kid, looking good," Lorna grinned as she stepped in, shutting the door behind her. Jesus, she was glad Moran wasn't dead presently, because it would have been a bit of a nasty shock to see Keira like this, looking so much like him - so much more than ever. Magpie looked over as the door shut, and looked concerned. Lorna went to her knees. "Magpie, baby, it's just me. C'mere sweetie?"

Keira looked up as Lorna came in, and smiled. Their eyes were tired. "Good to see you home," they said in a voice that was a little deeper than it had been. Magpie considered Lorna curiously, and moved toward her cautiously, paws hesitating slightly each step, wary.

Lorna remained still, though she said in a soft voice (so as not to interrupt Magpie's cautious sniff of her extended hand), "Thanks. Good to see you, too. Been a while since we touched base of any kind. Gotta make sure we'll still in the 'don't wanna stab Lorna in her sleep' camp."

"Don't worry," they said, shaking their head slightly. "We're good. Have a common worry now. You see him?" Magpie nibbled on the edge of Lorna's fingernail curiously.

"Yes, I saw him," she said quietly, just letting Magpie nibble. "And it was partially a deflection from showing any emotion to a member of the Moran family." She smirked. "Like that was."

"Eh. You' ve shown plenty of emotion around me. And I've done the same to you. Feels like we're past that point, doesn't it?" Magpie had started up a low, rumbling purr, her head pressing up under Lorna's hand. "He's in surgery, then?"

She let it pass with a nod, rubbing the kitty's head. "Yeah. For a little bit, now. Still have hours to go."

They nodded. "Good. That should help. He needs to get his ass out of that hospital bed."

She settled onto her butt now that Magpie felt safe, still petting her as she looked at Keira. "Yeah. Then I'll have to get used to him being decommissioned. I wonder how much work I can do remotely..."

Keira shook their head a little, letting out a slow breath. "We had to spend almost two weeks writing new security procedures to accommodate a decommissioned employee. It's never been done before."

Lorna chuckled. "Believe me, I know. I'm adjusting to this new world where maybe someday I don't have to be shot in the head when I lose most of my usefulness," she said, lying down and encouraging Magpie to climb onto her torso, which the cat did with the continuing rumbling purr. "It's a speck of hope."

"One I wouldn't cling tightly to," Keira said dryly. "Though I suppose if it's ever to happen again, it would be to you."

Lorna looked over at Keira, grinning like a cat who got the cream. "Exactly. Providing Sebastian lives, we might actually get to retire together. If he doesn't.." her grin faded. "Well, won't matter. Won't protest missing out on retirement."

"He's going to live," Keira said firmly. "He's getting the surgery. The cancer is mostly gone- it's been responding well to treatment. It's his liver that's been keeping him from recovering. Once he's got that sorted he'll be determined to get back to normal."

Lorna just nodded, her fear for him too strong to let her speak, her throat closing up a little for a moment. She stroked Magpie's cheeks as the cat curled her claws into her shirt. Eventually she looked back over at Keira. "So, still Keira? Or you going by something else Jim doesn't know yet?"

They shook their head. "Still Keira. I like my name. Just decided I didn't like my gender. Or... Any particular gender, really. Felt like mixing it up."

She chuckled. "Well, good on you. If you want to start a club I bet Kelly in grifting would be willing," she said, half serious, half gentle teasing. Then she sat up, arms raising to carry Magpie. "Now, I really should sleep. Thanks for watching Magpie. I'm glad you're doing well."

They pushed themself up to their feet, and nodded. "I'll make sure that someone wakes you up as soon as we know something," they promised, heading for the door.

"Thanks," she said, and the door shut behind them. For the first time in months, she was safe, alone at home, discounting a small living thing she cared about. It was a relief. Still cradling the purring cat, she walked into the bedroom, kicking off her shoes and lying down over the covers with the rest of her clothes still on. She let the cat adjust to her new position, and then passed out into a deeper sleep than she'd accomplished in months.

A/N Thanks for reading! Any thoughts?