John hesitantly opened his eyes. What he saw was a complete shock to him. Sebastian Moran was now clutching a bloody hand and staring furiously at Greg Lestrade who'd managed to not only stand, but fire a shot, rendering the sniper ineffective.

"How..." John whispered.

"Come now, John. Bulletproof vests have been part of the uniform for ages," he chuckled. "Doesn't make it hurt any less though. Knocked the breath out of me for a bit."

"I should have aimed between your bloody eyes," growled the injured criminal.

"Hindsight's always 20/20, eh?" the officer joked. "John, you need to attend to Sherlock. Back up and an ambulance are on the way."

John just nodded and sprinted towards his fallen comrade. There was blood everywhere. It was just like last time. Images from the first time flooded his vision.

"Sherlock! Sherlock, stay with me!" he frantically yelled.

"John, you're unhurt. That is...that's good."

"Yes, thanks to you. Now we have to get you taken care-"

"It's too late, John. I've bled far too much. I may not be a doctor, but I know my chances of survival."

"Don't talk like that! You're bloody Sherlock Holmes, you can't die! Not this way..."

"Don't be foolish, John," his baritone voice resounded in John's ears. "I suppose this time, I won't have to leave a note."

"Stop it this instant!"

"You were my first friend and first love John. Thank you for showing me that those things weren't beyond my reach."

"They're still not, you daft fool. Help is-"

"Goodbye, my blogger." he slowly closed his eyes, and his breathing became more and more shallow.

"No! NO! Don't you fucking do this again, you bastard! Come back! SHERLOCK!"

It was a cool, breezy autumn day. In a local park, there was a wedding being held. Chief Inspector Gregory Lestrade was marrying Johnathan Hamish Watson in a small ceremony witnessed by only their closest friends and associates. As the two men exchanged vows, they were presented with their rings by their five-year old sons, Lucas and Nigel. It was a simple, yet elegant affair. The priest following the typical protocol asked,

"If anyone here opposes this union, may they speak now or forever hold their peace."

The couple scanned the crowd. They received a nod from Mycroft Holmes and his fiancée, Vanessa, or as she's more commonly known, Anthea. Mrs. Hudson dabbed her eyes, unable to contain her happiness. Molly and her new boyfriend, Jack, looked on giving their silent blessing. They looked out at the people who'd gathered in order to celebrate their special day. Taking stock of all of the people they had in their lives. They both slowly turned and glanced at the best man, who was sitting in a wheelchair beside them.

"What?" the deep voice called. "I have nothing to say. Just be sure to cherish what you're getting, Lestrade. I'll be watching and waiting."

"I wouldn't expect anything less, mate." he chuckled.

Sherlock ran a hand through his signature curls and watched as the two men shared their first kiss as husbands. The gunshot wound he received left him paralyzed, but he recently received hopes of walking again. He'd absolutely hated many things in life. He hated that, he was confined to a wheelchair for the forseeable future, he hated that his John was now someone else's, he hated that his children insist on sitting on his lap and calling him 'uncle'. But Sherlock is well aware that things are never permanent. There is always that chance for change. Sure, some things can never be repaired once broken, but if they can...well, you do every thing to make those things or those people whole again. Even if, in the end, it hurts you. Sherlock Holmes has always been a great man, he's now become a good one.

Well, we've finally reached the end of this story. But so much was left unanswered! What was Moran's ultimate fate? How did Sherlock survive? What lies in store for our heroes? Be on the look out for various one-shots and things of that nature. When Sherlock Holmes is involved, there's always a story in the works.