A/N: And here it is. Two and a half years, and this is where it comes to a close.
It's been a wild ride. Thank you to all of those who've stuck with this from the beginning, and those who've joined in along the way. This is such a bittersweet day, but once a character is born, nothing really ends. I've left it like this so you can imagine what you'd like. If you'd like to know details about their lives later on, feel free to message me. I have some things planned out, but I'd rather leave it to you all.
Thank you all, and Merry Christmas.
"Going out for a bit, Daddylock!" Raven announced, slipping her ear muffs over her head. "The Yard needs help."
Sherlock snorted. "Typical. The new DI refuses to ask me for help, so he goes to you."
Raven pressed a kiss to his cheek. "It's just pride. Don't worry, it's a simple burglary. I've got you on speed dial."
"You won't call."
"I won't have to, but just on the off chance. In case Drew ends up in trouble or something."
"I'm sure it won't just be him in trouble."
"Bye, Daddylock, don't wait up!"
"Not your father!"
Raven skipped down the stairs, greeted by a blonde boy of fourteen. "Just got your text, I got ready as fast as I could."
"Good, go flag a cab."
Drew nearly crashed into his father on the way out the door. "Sorry Dad!"
John just shook his head and looked to the eighteen year old. "So what are you two up to, then?"
Raven beamed. "Been a robbery."
"Right up your alley."
"Yeah, I'll get to the murders one day."
"I don't doubt it." He chuckled. "You two have certainly had the oddest childhood. You in particular. What was it like?"
"I had everything I ever needed."
"Yes, I suppose, but… were you loved?"
She considered this. "I had everything I ever needed, and many things I didn't need. I received one of the finest educations from anywhere in the world, no doubt, all thanks to both Mycroft and Sherlock. Neither of them are particularly good at truly expressing themselves unless they're extremely upset or extremely excited. Yet, I had both of them doting on me at different points in my life. So yes," she shrugged her shoulders and smiled softly, "I rather think I was."
It was sometimes strange to look at Raven. He remembered singing to her in the sitting area of the upstairs flat when she was only a few months old. Now, at eighteen, she'd grown up pretty. John could see why his son liked her so much.
"Those two have been involved in your life since the start. They raised you into who they wanted you to be, particularly Mycroft."
"Yes, I know."
"Does that bother you?"
Raven thought. "I've thought about what my life would be like if they hadn't," she admitted. "I might have been adopted earlier, had a Mum and Dad, maybe siblings, a high school sweetheart and on the weekends I might have gone to the mall with the girls." She frowned. "Rather dull life it would have been, wouldn't it?"
John had to agree with her there.
"And besides, if I weren't around, who'd keep Drew out of trouble?"
"Who would be getting him into trouble, you mean," John corrected, and Raven grinned in response. "He cares for you, you know. He follows you around like a lost puppy."
"Yes, I know," Raven nodded. "And when he's older, maybe the feeling will be returned. I don't know. The age difference is a bit much still."
"Yes, it is."
"But you know what? He's the only one who's ever properly understood me. I can't explain it, but he just gets me better than any of the girls at Edington ever did."
John nodded and smiled. "Every Holmes needs a Watson I suppose. Probably why Mycroft's so miserable."
The door opened and Drew poked his head inside. "Got one!"
"Coming!" She looked to John. "Don't worry, I'll look after him. I always do."
John followed her to the door and watched the two getting into a cab. He smiled to himself.
They'd end up together. And if they did eventually marry, their names wouldn't change. Raven was far too proud to be a Holmes. The only thing that would change would be Drew's title if he eventually obtained the psychology degree he talked about occasionally.
Always off on another case, Raven Cecelia Holmes and Dr. Andrew John Watson.
John smiled to himself and shut the door of 221b Baker Street.