So here it is guys! The last chapter! I did it! I hope you all like it and I'm thankfull to all of you who've reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story. But this isn't the last you've heard of me!

~: From a line in chapter one about how David was like a brother to John, something he'd always wanted. David was gone, but not he had Sherlock…

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I only have one sibling, Harriet, whom I'm not that close to. I had always wanted a brother and he had been taken from me by war.

I miss David sorely, make no mistake, but he was gone now. It had been a year sense he died but I still consider him my brother. Even so, it wasn't the same.

But then Sherlock stormed into my life.

He wasn't David, that much was blindingly obvious. He was an odd fellow and exuded a flippant, uncaring, and reckless behavior. But in some ways they were the same, him and David. They both had saved me from various threats and dangers. And on the rare occasion when his hard mask slipped I was able to see into his heart. Even though he didn't care to show it, I knew Sherlock cared about me.

It didn't start as brotherhood, or even friendship for that matter. It began with my fascination of the tall man and his mind for truly he was brilliant, if not unfathomably ignorant on some subjects. I took the flat partly because of this and partly out of desperation.

He was wild. He was arrogant. He was excitable, uncaring, childish, immature, annoying…I could go on for ages. But even with all these terrible qualities, however uncaring he appeared, he was the one who took away my limp. And being thrust into the life he led took away the tremor in my hand.

So why did I consider him a brother? Because when the mask falls and I'm able to see his heart, I can see that he's far from uncaring. I don't know why he chooses to ware the mask. Maybe he believes that showing emotion depicts him as weak; unable to be taken seriously (although why he things that being eccentric would be taken seriously I have no clue).

I can see he's a great man with the potential of being a good one as Lestrade had said. I think that's why at heart we're brothers: because we've seen each others'. He usually rejects or brushes off everyone he comes across, even his real brother, Mycroft. But he let me in. He let me see.

I know that Sherlock would do nothing to hurt me or intentionally put me in danger. But he would save me if I was, and I would do the same for him. I had already saved him once. I had lost count of how many times he'd saved me. But we didn't let this govern our relationship.

That diamond case he said he didn't take, only sending them a message, I knew he took. I learned later that he had fought with one of their men in the flat and had sent me out for groceries to keep me out of it. Maybe he even fixed it so my card wouldn't work to keep me out longer. I wouldn't put it past him.

He never meant for me to become a target of the Chinese gang or of Moriarty himself. And through the bravado I always saw concern when he came to save me. I was able to see a side of Sherlock no one else saw. I saw that he was indeed human.

I don't know what to make of Mycroft, though. He's Sherlock's brother so I guess that sort of makes him mine as well in a round about sort of way. But it wasn't the same as with Sherlock. He was more of an opposing and aloof presence that imposed itself in our lives. But I've gotten used to it I guess.

No, I was content with one brother. I was happy in this life. And I swore to myself that this would not end the way David had. This was here to stay and I would do everything within my power to keep it.

Done! So funny story, actually: I had writen out my first draft in pencil and wasn't really satisfied with it. Then I started to transcribe it in pen (because I'm weird like that) and I made some changes. I still wasn't happy with it, but then I put it all together and tada! Here it is!

So I'm finishing up the sequel to 'A Sherlock Carol' and I should have it up reletively soon...I hope. I will be posting it as a seperate story so keep you eyes peeled!

ttyl,

A