Epilogue
It turns out, running around London all day can really take it out of an immortal.
Maybe it was the adrenaline crash coming early, now that they were no longer face to face with Sebastian Moran - a man of their collective nightmares. A witch, with the power to harm them where no one else could. A man-made immortal who wouldn't be easy to take down. A threat that has finally made itself known and has the intention of taking them on.
Maybe its just that, after living for centuries now, he's merely exhausted. Tired of waking up every day, watching the clock tick down, and repeating so endlessly. Not an end in sight, and likely never to be one.
Maybe it's simply the fact that it's getting late and they're still trapped inside of Lestrades cramped, stuffy office, going over the same details time and again.
Whatever the case, John's over it. They've dealt with far too much today, yesterday, and the past five centuries to still be sat here well past sundown.
"I already told you, Lestrade; M wanted to mimic his beloved Moriarty by sending us off on a chase for the bodies. He placed them in contrasting scenarios to how we found them initially - with Monroe in a dehydrator, Thompson in a freezer, and Walsh in a public space." Sherlock says through gritted teeth, and by god, John doesn't have the energy to reign him in. In fact, he's about to start being unruly himself.
It's only because he knows it's not Lestrades fault that he doesn't understand what's happened considering he and Sherlock are keeping resolutely quiet on the more witchy details.
"That doesn't explain how nobody seemed to notice Walsh until you were there. Witnesses say you were the one to put the body there." Lestrade says with a firm face even as John can see the exhaustion sagging his features.
"And did they see me enter the station carrying said body? Odd, isn't it, that they didn't seem to care until I had allegedly put Walsh in place." Lestrade lets out a gusty sigh and leans back in his chair.
"Look, I don't think you did it-"
"I would have worried about your intellect if you had."
"-But it doesn't look good. You went running off each time you found a body before we had the chance to arrive. For all anyone knows, you did go trotting off with bodies for us to find." Sherlock scoffs and leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other in a show of nonchalance.
"For myself to find, you mean. Hardly much of a game to play when I told you outright where they were." But Lestrade ignores that and continues on.
"Then you went and sent us to the bloody London Eye! And when we finally do figure out where it is you'd run off to, there was no M at all." He accuses.
"Poor timing on your part." Sherlock's words don't seem to help any as Lestrade glares at him.
"And exactly who's fault is that?" Before Sherlock can make any sort of comeback, Lestrade holds up his hand. "Look, this is getting us nowhere. At least tell me you were able to get something on this guy. A name? Description? Maybe where he's run off to now?"
Despite how hopeful the poor DI looks, both John and Sherlock know they can't let him in on anything that they've learned. Any information at all would lead him down an infuriating path of a man with seemingly no past - because if theres one thing they know well, it's how an immortal operates. And as an immortal, you have to recreate yourself every couple decades. Find a new place to start over, where you won't be recognised.
Only, in Moran's case, he's a criminal, and as Sherlock would say, every criminal eventually makes mistakes. Somewhere, Moran would have left behind a mistake that Lestrade and his subordinates might find, and depending on how long ago the mistake was made, it would only do more harm than good to know about it.
"I'm good, Lestrade, but not a miracle worker. He didn't want to be seen, and so he wasn't." It's a blatant lie, but it's for the best, and when Lestrade looks pleadingly in John's direction, the doctor merely shrugs.
"We were hardly making nice with each other," John tells him blandly, even as he feels bad for it.
With another - far more defeated this time - sigh, Lestrade falls back in his chair.
"This is growing far too out of hand. After the mess that was made today, I've been told that you're not to go mucking around in this anymore." He says it almost regretfully, as if he's aware that Sherlock is their only hope at finding M but the decisions out of his hands.
"Pity for you. Let's hope you all stumble on some sort of luck. You'll be needing that and more to take M down." Lestrade scoffs at Sherlock's words and swipes a hand over his face.
"Don't I know it. Just... stay out of trouble for a bit, would you? I would hate to have to arrest you two because you couldn't control yourselves." John feels a small tug at the corner of his lips as a smile tries to make itself known, but with a cough, he covers it up easily enough.
"Funny that you think you could," Sherlock says, not bothering at all to hide his amusement like John had as he's smiling big and wide. Lestrade groans and then waves his hand at them, shooing them.
"Get out of here, you two. I'm gonna see if I can get any of this sorted." The DI grumbles, and it's all they need as they both rise from their chairs and head for the door.
"Oh, and tell your brother to leave me alone already! I have enough on my plate to worry about at the moment. I don't need another Holmes causing chaos for me." Lestrade calls after them.
"I think it's far too late for that. Pity for you, you've caught his interest." Sherlock says over his shoulder, still grinning as he does so. Before Lestrade can make any sort of retort though, Sherlock has swept out of the office and is swiftly making his way to the elevator.
"Good luck." John bids with a wave and a pitiful smile to which the DI sighs again.
"When all this is dealt with, you owe me a pint. Or three." Chuckling, John leaves the office to join Sherlock.
After all this is over, John will be needing a whole pub's worth of alcohol himself.
0-0-0-0-0
It's only when they're both safely within the confines of 221B that they finally relax. John all but falls into his chair, and while Sherlock is more dignified, it's almost too much effort to spare to sit down rather than to slump.
"This has been a shit day." John finally bemoans, head tilted back and eyes closed.
"Quite." Sherlock agrees plainly, pressing his fingers together as he thinks back to everything they've done today.
"Who would have thought there were still witches around." Sherlock lets out a huff of laughter, more breath than noise, and peeks an eye open to look at his partner.
"Who would have thought there would be immortals? Honestly, we should stop being so naive as to think we're the only ones. It was wishful thinking to believe magic had eradicated itself." The chastisement is for John just as equally as it's for himself because it's true.
They were naive when they thought there was no such thing as magic. They were naive when they dismissed so quickly the idea that magic was gone at all. They were naive to think that it wouldn't come back to bite them in the arse. Again.
Maybe the witch they'd met all that time ago had laid two curses upon them. One of separation, the other to haunt them for the rest of their lives.
"Hey, it'll be fine. We'll figure this out." John reassured softly, leaning forward with an elbow on his knee to reach out and touch Sherlock's with his free hand.
"Like we did last time? We don't have magic, John. We hardly know what it's capable of!" Sherlock says in frustration, standing from his chair to pace the room.
"We know enough to be wary of it. We know that this is something we should take seriously this time." Which is true, but Sherlock's hearing none of it as his mind races through all of the possibilities to come.
"What good is knowing that theres danger when we can't do anything to stop it?" He asks blithely.
"And whose to say there isn't anything that we can do?" Pausing in his pacing, Sherlock turns an inquisitive look John's way, scanning the relaxed doctor and wondering what it is he's figured out that Sherlock hasn't.
"Moran said his immortality was manufactured, right? If magic really is against witches bending it to their will, couldn't it be assumed that it would try and put things back in order?" Blinking, Sherlock tries to follow this new line of reasoning and finds his eyes widening. Slowly, a smile breaks across his face and he strides over to John, pulling him out of the chair.
"I knew there was a reason I kept you around!" Sherlock says cheerfully as he grabs the man's face and pulls him in for a kiss. It's ruined by John chuckling through it, and when they separate they're both grinning at each other.
"All we need to do is figure out what Moran's done. How he's managed to become immortal. Oh, it makes so much sense now! It's why he was asking so many questions about us and our immortality!" Spinning back on his heels, Sherlock throws his arms in the air and can't help the excitement that's bubbling within him.
"He wants to know because he wants it for himself. Something about his immortality is finite. Perhaps there is a time limit? Does it wear off? Maybe it's not immortality but something similar. If we figure out the flaw, we can figure out how to take him down. Simple in theory, but-"
"-But we need to be getting to bed." John interrupts, walking up behind Sherlock and resting a palm on the taller man's back. Blinking back to reality, Sherlock turns to look inquisitively at his partner.
"Bed? Now? But there's so much to be done, John!" Sherlock refutes, even as he sees that John won't be backing down.
"And there's already so much we've done today. Tomorrow, you can throw yourself at this new problem all you want, but right now, we both need some rest." Blinking, Sherlock can think of a million reasons why sleep is not what they need right now.
But then he remembers, what seems like ages ago now - before Moran had made a mess of things - his plan to get John in his bed permanently.
And really, what's holding him back anymore? Before, he had wanted to be sure that it was time to take such a step. He hadn't wanted to rush into it, but now that he thinks about it, there was never any rush. If anything, they've been moving at a snail's pace and this is a step they should have taken months ago.
That's not to mention, with so many unknowns ahead of them and the very real possibility that Sherlock may lose John again should Moran curse them like the last witch had, they have no time to waste. He doesn't want to go another 500 years lamenting the fact that he could have had all of John if only he hadn't been so worried. If only he hadn't been so scared.
It's with this thought in mind that Sherlock slowly nods, much to John's visible surprise.
"Really? That easy, was it?" The doctor asks with a small, sceptical smile.
"I've been meaning to request something of you, John." Sherlock says instead of answering.
"Oh?" He asks with a raised eyebrow and a mixture of amusement and apprehension crossing over his face. Nodding, Sherlock grabs John's hands and holds them tight, leaning down to look John in the eye and touching his forehead to John's.
"Yes, in fact, I should have asked months ago." Being this close, their breath mingles together in the small space between them.
"Sounds important," John says softly, no louder than a whisper.
"Very." Sherlock agrees, resisting the urge to forget the question entirely and kiss the man.
"What's that, then?" Grinning, Sherlock gives in only slightly - a small peck to help ease his distracted mind, though he thinks it does him more harm than good when he pulls back.
"I was thinking that we make my room ours. Keeping separate bedrooms is more work than it's worth." John's smile grows larger and this time it's the doctor that steals a kiss.
"I thought you'd never ask." Pulling apart, the two smile at each other for a moment longer before they let go of each other's hands and Sherlock clears his throat.
"Wonderful. I expect you to move your things promptly." And then he's turning and heading to his - their - room without another word, leaving behind a laughing doctor.
By the time he's changed and in bed, John is making his way down the hall to join him. It's only moments before the doctor is sliding into the bed beside him, pulling him close and mimicking their positions from the last time they'd shared this bed.
For a while, they merely lie there in silence. Now that he's done it - asked John to join him here permanently - Sherlock wonders what he was ever worried about in the first place. As if this change would be the thing to break them apart.
It's preposterous, but it's a testament to just how much Sherlock wants this to work. How much he's trying to do everything right when he has a tendency to do things wrong.
"If we're ever separated again-"
"You have a remarkable aptitude for ruining the mood." Sherlock interrupts with a frown. His words cause John to laugh, though Sherlock thinks that's unwarranted.
"Sorry, but I was just thinking, we should have some sort of plan. In case we're cursed again." It's not the worst idea, but Sherlock thinks that this is something they definitely could save for tomorrow instead, and he says as much.
"True. I just want it to be known now that we need to take turns in London. Every other two decades? You're not allowed to hog it all again." Rolling his eyes, Sherlock finds himself smiling regardless of the topic.
"Is London our child, then? Is this to be our custody arrangement?" He quips, earning more laughter from John.
"It may as well be. I mean it; I want to spend some time here too." Letting out a huff, Sherlock rolls his eyes and pats John's chest.
"Do shut up, John." He says good-naturedly.
"Maybe you should do something to shut me up, then." Grinning, Sherlock raises his head from his partner's chest and shifts, straddling him instead. Looking down at the doctor in he dim lighting, he sees a matching grin on the man's face and feels the familiar vice grip that he holds on his heart.
If they're to be separated again, he'll need to savour every moment he has with John now while he still can.
"Gladly."
Another installment finished! Thank you all for reading and I hope you have enjoyed the story so far. I still have plenty planned for this AU so you can expect more to come, though I can't say when I will add more. I hope soon, but who knows.