This is the last chapter everyone! :O That's right, we've come to the end of the story!

I hope you've enjoyed it, I must admit I've found this particular one a challenge, as I don't usually write this sort of stuff, but I enjoy setting challenges for myself in writing, I just hope it didn't come across in the story :)

If you did enjoy this story, I've written other stuff, Sherlock and non-Sherlock, which you're very welcome to read if you're interested :) I've also got a book, called Poppy Girl, on sale on the Kindle! There's details on my profile about it if you're curious and you can read the first couple of chapters for free so you can see if it's something worth reading :)

Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who has alerted, favourited and reviewed! (Special thanks to regular and wonderful reviewers F.T.L Everdeen Holmes and Rainbowcapillaries) and thank you especially to you, the reader, who managed to read this story all the way through to the end! I hope it's been worthwhile :)

Epilogue

"I've got it John, I've figured it out!" Sherlock burst into the room of 221B Baker Street, I look up from my laptop to see a huge grin on his face as he carried a large and heavy-looking box. I can't help but laugh at my friend's expression.

"What are you talking about now Sherlock?" I ask, turning back to my lap top and just finishing the blog on our most recent case. I forgot how much I enjoyed writing my blog, and how much I missed it.

It's been twelve weeks since Lestrade and Donovan appeared in my hospital room with a poor attempt to arrest Sherlock. Since then we've already solved five cases and things have pretty much got back to normal, even though most things in my life aren't exactly normal.

Although there was one particular thing that wasn't quite the same...Sherlock, and his current personal case of trying to 'fix things'.

"I've finally worked out how to work things out," Sherlock added, as if to prove my point. He placed the box down on the only spare space on the table in front of me. "This is how I can make things up to you."

Since my brief stay in hospital, Sherlock's guilt seems to have escalated, and hasn't ceased. He keeps on trying to find a way to make up with trying to abandon me and then almost getting me killed. I've forgiven him a long time ago, but he still blames himself, and keeps on finding ways to try and make up for the problems he created.

I shake my head, "Sherlock, for the final time you don't need to fix things for me." But there was little I could do to persuade the man otherwise, I keep on trying to tell him the same things but he decides to ignore me. By the huge grin on his face, it looks like I'm still not getting through, and it may be too late, as in Sherlock's view whatever's in the box has fixed the things that don't need fixing.

He pushes the box towards me. I'm really hoping it's not someone's severed head, it's bad enough when they're in the fridge, I don't want one as a present, even if it's Moriarty's.

But when I look into the box, I find it's not a head, or any body part. Nothing human at all actually.

"Sherlock...why is there a bulldog pup in a box?" I ask slowly.

"His name is Gladstone, and it would ruin the surprise if I brought him in on a lead!" Sherlock exclaim, which seems to be the only explanation he's going to give me.

I look back down inside the box. The bulldog pup stares up at me with small, black eyes. He's white with brown blotches down his back, I'm surprised by how small he is. He's almost cute, but I try not to get too attached.

"Sherlock...we can't have a bulldog."

I have a feeling this is going to be something that Sherlock is going to decide he can't understand. His brow furrows in concern. "His name is Gladstone, and why not?"

"Because...we can't have a dog! What's Mrs Hudson going to say?"

Sherlock shrugs, "I'm sure we can persuade her to keep him, beside, I've already named him, there's not going back now."

I have a horrible feeling he may be right..."Sherlock, who's going to look after this do-"

"Gladstone." Sherlock corrects me.

"Who's going to look after Gladstone? We're going to have to walk him and feed him and everything. Can we even afford a dog?" I ask.

"He's small, he won't cost that much."

"He's going to grow." I warn.

Sherlock shrugs again, "I'm sure you can figure something out."

Of course I will. I don't think I'm going to have much choice anyway. The dog won't stop staring at me though, and he is cute. "We can't call him Gladstone Sherlock."

"Why not?"

"Because that's such a 19th Century name, no one calls their pets Gladstones anymore!" I point out.

Of course, what everyone else thinks doesn't matter to Sherlock. "Well, maybe we should bring the trend back." He suggests. "And there's no point arguing with me John," he adds as he sees me shake my head in exasperation. "You can't change my mind about keeping Gladstone or changing his name. We're keeping him, and that's final."

The dog, or rather, Gladstone, gives a small woof of approval. I would say at least he'll keep Sherlock out of trouble, but I don't think anyone or anything can keep Sherlock out of trouble. It is a very cute bulldog pup though. I can't help but reach inside the box and give him a scratch behind the ears.

I sigh, pretending to give in, even though the thought of having a dog was starting to appeal to me. "All right, we can keep him, but only if Mrs Hudson says yes!"

Sherlock grins again at his success, then takes Gladstone out his box. The little puppy looks as surprised as I feel to see Sherlock almost cuddling something. "I'll go and find some food for him. Dogs don't eat vegetables, right?"

"Of course they don't!" I say, as Sherlock takes Gladstone into the kitchen. For a consulting detective, his knowledge in some things is truly unbelievable. It's going to be interesting with a dog in the household now.

However I suddenly find myself turning to another subject, something that occasionally nags me in the back of the head. "We never found out you know," I call to Sherlock, who's still in the kitchen.

"Found out what?" Sherlock calls back.

"Who tipped off Lestrade about you being alive and me in hospital. And Mycroft for that matter."

Sherlock comes back from the kitchen, Gladstone-less (we've barely had the dog for five minutes and I'm already worrying about the poor thing), shrugging. "Like I said, it was probably Mycroft who tipped the police off, and he's got people everywhere watching everything, it was only a matter of time before they noticed me. I'm sure there's nothing to be suspicious about."

I shake my head, this doesn't seem to make sense. Sherlock's been out the house before, that's how we thought that assassin realised he was alive, but why had this stranger not noticed? "But Mycroft says he didn't tell the police, and he hasn't told us who told him. It just seems very...strange. I feel like someone's been watching us." I can't help but shiver at the thought. It reminds me far too much about Moriarty.

But my friend doesn't seem so worried. "If there's someone out there, we're sure to find them one day John, and you shouldn't let the unknown scare you. We've faced some pretty bad events already, so whatever's out there, we shouldn't be fearful of it, rather, fearless."

I know when he says 'bad events' Sherlock's talking about the times we encountered Moriarty, the twelve weeks when I thought my best friend was dead, and the number of times one of us has almost died for real. Although perhaps Sherlock's right, we shouldn't let those things hold us back, but drive us forward. I've had enough of the darkness pushing me down, I've managed to fight the darkness off, so now I should find a way to benefit from it, rather than let it leave me in fear.

Sherlock wonders back into the kitchen to check on the new member of the household while I consider this. Suddenly, I'm not worried about the unknown, the future seems very bright, and I'm not fearful at whatever the world might throw at us next. In fact, bring it on.

Just then, I hear Sherlock call to me from the kitchen. "Joohn! Gladstone's peed on the kitchen floor, you need to clean it up!"

Well, I suppose things could be worse...

So, that's it from me folks! Though I'm sure this won't be the last Sherlock fanfic I write! I know I've left it with a couple of things left to be tied up, but at the moment I don't think I'm going to do a sequel for it, despite my love for Gladstone the dog :) I think it's good to leave a bit of mystery behind in a story...

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it people! Would love to know what you thought of this chapter and the story overall, so if you could drop me one last review, it would be really appreciated :)

Thanks again for reading!

All the best, Naisa x