A/N: Each chapter will say "X Years Later" and I mean years after chapter 90. So this one is three years after chapter 90.

Also, I've started posting a new story exclusively on my AO3. Only because I already have an AU like it on this and I didn't want to confuse myself. So it's about John and Sherlock and their children. Eight of them, to be exact. My ao3 name is the same as this, jamesgatz1925. Go find it.

Epilogue: Three Years Later

Sherlock stares longingly out the window. He's never been one for the sentiment of beautiful days being wasted indoors, but if he did believe such a thing, today would be that day. There is not a cloud in the blue sky, and Sherlock finds himself wishing to be out in the grass rather than inside this cramped, stuffy classroom with thirty other kids who became boring enough to not even try deducing after the second day of lecture.

School has become so tedious. If it's not the students, it's the teachers, and it's so hard to sit in a class and not correct the idiots who are paid by this godforsaken university.

Sherlock slumps over at his table and rests his head in his arms. Without needing to glance at the clock, he knows there's only half an hour left in this class. And then he's free until 2:30 when his biology class begins.

His stomach knots at the thought. He dreads something he used to love so much.

He really hates it here. He doesn't know if he'd feel differently if he was at his own first choice university; he'd probably still be bored and hate it. Plus, at least John is here.

Sherlock briefly wonders how upset John would be if he quit. He's never quit anything before, even the toughest of experiments he finishes to the very end. And it's not like his quitting would affect John at all. John could still go to school, John could still live happily in the flat Sherlock purchased for them.

The instructor calls his name for daydreaming, like she does to any other student when they're caught staring out the window for too long.

Sherlock closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It's either quit or jump out of this fourth story window.

"I'm so unhappy that I contemplated jumping out of a window this morning."

Sherlock hears a slight gasp from the other side. He rolls his eyes; he did not call Olive for her to be sensitive towards his bluntness.

"Relax," Sherlock says.

"If you're so unhappy, quit. Who cares? It's not like you, of all people, need schooling."

"A real degree goes a long way."

"Then go somewhere else."

"I can't…"

Olive sighs. "I know. I don't really know what kind of advice to offer you."

Sherlock runs a hand through his hair. "I need to think about it all."

"Right. Really think."

Sherlock hangs up with her ten minutes later. After that, he walks around the campus until his next class is to begin. By then, he's so wound and fed up that he doesn't need to quit; after what he said to the professor, he gets escorted out of the building.

"How could you be such an idiot?!" John yells, throwing his arms in the air.

"I hate it here, John!" Sherlock yells back from his position at their kitchen table.

"So saying all that stuff to your teacher was okay? Sherlock, you're likely not going to be allowed back."

"Good."

John gives an exasperated laugh. "God, Sherlock, why can't you talk to me?"

Sherlock shrugs.

"I know you're here because of me," John tells him. "If you want to go off for something better then-"

"I'm not going anywhere," Sherlock sternly says.

John sits at the table and grabs Sherlock's hand. "Then talk to me. Look, I'm sorry I dragged you here. But it's what I can afford and get accepted. If you hate it then you shouldn't have to put yourself through it."

Sherlock nods.

"What do you want to do?" John asks.

"Light my school books on fire."

John laughs. "Maybe not that."

Sherlock cracks a smile. "I don't know what I want to do. But I don't want to go to school. Here at least."

John squeezes his hand. "Honey, I mean it. If you want to go do something else somewhere else, I'll be here for you when you return."

Though Sherlock's stomach flutters at the name, it turns unpleasantly at the thought of being away from John. Then it turns again in remembering that soon he will be.

"No. I'm not wasting our time together away from you."

John nods. "Okay. We'll figure it out."

Sherlock nods back. John lifts his hand to kiss his knuckles, then he breaks into laughter.

"I can't believe you said that to your teacher."

Sherlock smirks. "He had a right to know about his wife's girlfriend."

"How did you even figure that out?"

"By the smudge on his tie where-"

"Lying."

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "I saw two women together last week. Today when he and I were arguing, I got close enough to his desk to see one of the women in a photo with him. Too close to be a family member, his wife then. And the two women were very…snuggly."

John laughs again. "Brilliant."

"Hardly difficult," Sherlock says, blushing anyway.

John leans forward and kisses him lightly. When he pulls away, he presses his forehead against Sherlock's.

"We'll figure this out," John whispers.

Sherlock nods.