A/N- Guys! Guys! Remember the flat? Uh-huh? The yucky one that they went into in the season 1 finale? Well, I used it! Yay! And this is the end, but there might be a sequel, if y'all want one and tell me.

"John." Sherlock's voice cracked.

"Sher… Sherlock," John stammered.

The gun clattered to the floor and Sherlock knelt by his friend.

John pretty much fell into Sherlock's arms, grabbing his friend's coat. "I th-thought-"

"Shh," Sherlock hushed, resting his cheek on the top of the doctor's head.

John looked up at the consulting detective and was surprised to see the pale blue eyes welling up with clear liquid.

Sherlock shot the doctor a watery smile and whispered through tears. "Bastard… I wrecked half my mind palace because of you."

John's shoulders began to shake, half laughing, half crying. "Jesus, Sherlock. I missed you."

"Really?"

"You have no idea," John chuckled.

Sebastian stood, watching the two. They care about each other so much… How could I have even thought of shooting the tall guy?

"I think I can stand on my own," John was saying. He tried, and promptly collapsed.

"Uh, I'll carry you, if you want," offered Sebastian.

Sherlock stepped neatly in between the two. "No." Immediately after speaking, he felt bad. Face the facts, Sherlock. This man is on your side. But… I'm not letting anyone else touch John until we're safe back home at Baker Street. He picked John up himself, and carried the doctor down the corridor.

Sebastian didn't move, having sensed that they hated him. What will I do now? I shot my only 'friend' and I'm wanted in nine countries. What if-

"Come on!" Sherlock's voice came from around the door. "Are you just going to stand there like an idiot, or are you going to get the gun?"

A smile spread over Sebastian's face. He bent to pick up the pistol and ran down the hall after the two. "Here's your gun, Mr. Holmes." He offered the weapon.

"Carry it for me," Sherlock said, gesturing towards the gun with a wave of his head. "And please: call me Sherlock."

The trio left the old church, where the taxi was waiting for them.

"Uh, what about… you know, the body?" Sebastian asked, looking tentatively back to where they left Moriarty.

"That." Sherlock helped John into the taxi. "Fire about three shots into the air, the police should show up in no time."

Sebastian grinned, admiring the genius of the solution as he did as told.

The taxi ride was long and bumpy; Moriarty had picked a very remote spot for his hideout. They didn't talk much, and when they did it mostly consisted of John asking what had happened and Sebastian and Sherlock trying to fill him in.

When the three reached 221 B, darkness was beginning to fall.

"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock yelled.

"Hmm?" The landlady appeared from her flat. She gasped. "Oh, John! Thank goodness you're safe. You had me up every night worrying." She patted the doctor's shoulder. "Sherlock, who's your friend?"

"I'm Sebastian Moran," Sebastian said, shaking Mrs. Hudson's hand.

"He's your taker for the basement flat," Sherlock said. "Sebastian, you will be needing a home, am I right?"

Sebastian nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Lovely. It's quite a nice flat if you ignore the mold," the consulting detective said, with a bit of his old attitude. "Mrs. Hudson, show him around."

With that, Sherlock and John went up the stairs to their home, the first time either of them had been there for several days. John because he was chained up in a church, and Sherlock because it wasn't home without his blogger.

"So, what should we do?" asked Sherlock.

John shrugged. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to make tea, get into my pyjamas, and sleep."

Sherlock smiled: John hadn't changed a bit.