It's the last chapter of this story and I'm so grateful to all of you for your kind reviews of this story. This story got way more attention than I ever thought it would, and I really hope that you guys like what I've written and continue to read the stories that I write in the future. I'd like to thank everyone who's been reading this; if you started at the very beginning with me I'd just like to say WOW SORRY and I'm impressed with you and I love you, and if you're a recent reader I'd like to welcome you and thank you so much for taking time out of your life to read this! I love you all 3

Hopefully, I'll be able to write my other stories now, haha. Sorry if you're reading this and you're waiting for an update to my other stories; I'll probably update those in the summer after I have a few chapters written (I'll actually have time this summer to write until it's August and I'll have to start writing college essays).

Anyway, I love you all a lot, and thanks again for reading this. You rock. This journey has been amazing, and even though it took forever, we finally made it to the end.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock

"We have the time machine- Elliot, you know how to bring us back to our own time, right?"

"Yup. I can take you back whenever you want." Elliot responded.

"Then I guess…we leave tomorrow?" Sally suggested.

John nodded. "Yeah…we leave tomorrow."

The next morning, Sherlock was shaken awake. "What?" he groaned, burying his head into the pillow. "It's so early, Mycroft…"

"They're leaving, Sherlock." He stilled. For a moment, Mycroft didn't know what he would do; all he could hear was Sherlock's ragged breathing in and out. Then, he launched up and ran to the main room.

His feet pounded against the floor as he ran, his breathing ragged, his body not quite recovered from the traumas that Moriarty caused. He nearly crashed into the door, hurriedly opening it as he skidded into the room.

There, he saw them all; John, Lestrade, Sally, and Anderson. They stood around the white machine they had brought, and all but Anderson looked at him, unsure of what to do. Anderson tore his gaze away in shame, studying a corner of the wall.

"You're going now?" Sherlock asked, confusion in his voice. "Why? You can just stay."

"I'm sorry, Sherlock, but we have to go back to our own time." John responded, kneeling down to meet Sherlock's eyes.

Sherlock looked down and closed his eyes, refusing to meet John's gaze. "I understand. You have to go."

"We're not leaving you, Sherlock," Lestrade said, stepping closer to the boy. "We'll be back one day. You'll see. This isn't a goodbye. And Elliot's staying with you; he'll be like an uncle. He can take care of you."

Sherlock smiled, and he nodded, wiping away the wetness on his eyes. "Okay…okay. I guess I'll see you around, then?" he smiled, and he looked at them all.

Sally stepped forward. "You're a very brave little boy, d'you know that? I knew someone like you once, but I made mistakes and I wasn't…I wasn't quite nice to him. You changed me, so…thanks." She ruffled his hair and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

John rubbed Sherlock's shoulders and let go of him. "You're gonna be amazing when you grow up, don't let anyone tell you anything else, all right?" Sherlock nodded, and John smiled, stepping back.

Lestrade walked forward, and Sherlock launched himself at him in a hug. He held onto Lestrade's waist, and Lestrade smiled, holding one hand to the boy's head and the other to his shoulder. "I'm sorry for everything that happened…everything that I did…"

"You don't need to apologize, Detective Inspector." Sherlock murmured.

Lestrade laughed, thinking of the much-older version of him saying the same thing in a drier, less childlike tone of voice. "Call me Greg, huh? We're friends."

"Friends…Okay, Greg." Sherlock whispered, and he smiled. They broke apart, and Sherlock smiled at them all. "I'll miss you, but we'll see each other again, right?" he looked directly at Lestrade. "We're friends."

Lestrade chuckled, and they all approached the machine. Elliot stepped forward, but Anderson moved toward Sherlock.

Sally drew her gun in an instant, pressing it against his back. "Don't. You. Dare."

"I'm just- I have to say something, alright, Sally? I get that you don't trust me, but I promise, I would never hurt him. Not again." Anderson snapped, and Sally nodded, moving her gun away from his back but keeping it aimed at him.

Sherlock looked at him warily, but he accepted it when Anderson stepped towards him until they were inches apart. He, unlike the others, stayed standing.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for- for any of this to-" Anderson stumbled, and he sighed. "I'm sorry."

Sherlock lifted his eyes, gazing at the older man's tired expression. He obviously hadn't slept in days, and his hands shook with both tiredness and guilt. His whole aura just seemed…exhausted.

"I understand. I can't say that I forgive you for what you did, especially since it hurt my brother, but…I understand. Don't blame yourself." Sherlock said, not breaking eye contact with him the whole time.

Anderson's expression lifted slightly, his eyebrows raising. "I-I mean, I-….thank you."

They all stepped near the machine. "I've already calibrated it, all you've got to do is press the button on the top and it'll teleport anyone in a 10 foot radius to your time." Elliot explained, pushing Sherlock and Mycroft back until they were almost in the other room.

"Wait!" Sherlock cried out when John's hand was inches from the button. He launched himself forward, hugging Lestrade. "…thank you. For everything."

Lestrade's eyes watered slightly, and he smiled. "Thank you, Sherlock."

Sherlock stepped back, walking to Mycroft and Elliot. Right when John pressed the button, as the world around them fizzed into nothingness, they all saw Sherlock turn around and whisper, "See you later."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"John? John, are you alright? What the hell just happened?" a familiar voice asked him.

John blinked, adjusting to the light. He saw Sherlock- his Sherlock –above him, waving a hand in front of his face. He sat up, groaning, and looked around to see that he was back in the Yard; the clock read that they had been gone maybe 5 minutes.

"Just, uh…guess we all had a fall?" Lestrade moaned from the other side of the room.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "As if, Greg. The probability of that happening is almost 0; however, taking into account Anderson's stupidity-"

"Oh, we're back, alright." Sally buried her head in her hands. "God, my head aches."

"Wait, hold on, you called me Greg." Lestrade said, sitting up. "Since when do you call me by my proper name? Since when do you even know my proper name?"

Sherlock prepared to answer, but then closed his mouth and frowned. "I don't think he has an answer for you, mate." John chuckled, watching Sherlock's mouth open and close like a fish.

Lestrade stood up and hugged Sherlock, the other man holding his arms at his sides. "What- what the hell are you doing, Greg?"

"Oooh, twice in a row, I'm gonna hug you twice as long now." Lestrade said, burying his face in Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock tried to wriggle out of it, and Sally and John laughed in the background until he got out of Lestrade's hold.

"Now even Donovan can laugh, when did this happen?" Sherlock said smugly.

Donovan rolled her eyes. "What can I say, Sherlock? You're a man with many talents."

"Now Donovan is bolstering my ego and not calling me names? Something's got to be wrong." Sherlock said with a serious expression on his face, examining everyone's faces for any clues.

"Wait, Anderson- where'd Anderson go?" Sally panicked, looking around.

"He was with us when we-" John cut himself off as he remembered that Sherlock was still in the room. "When we, ah, bumped heads."

"So…he's gone, then?" Sally said wistfully.

"Yeah…yeah, he's gone." John breathed in heavily, and he shakily stood up.

John picked up the machine and threw it in the trash, tied the bag so that it couldn't open and picked it up. "What the hell was that?" Sherlock asked, almost furious that he didn't know what was going on.

John rolled his eyes. "Nothing you need to worry about. I promise."

Sherlock stared at John, and almost as if a switch had been hit, he began to walk around the room. "So, the double-murder, let's go. We don't have all day to solve these crimes. Well, I don't have all day, I'm sure the Yard would love doing this without me-"

"Alright, Sherlock, c'mon, let's go…find that body." Lestrade said, struggling to remember what they were doing so long ago before they took their journey.

John smiled wryly, looking around at all of the people around him. "Well, I guess it's business as usual."