The Last Glance

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, don't own the characters/show.

Author's Note: Basically couldn't help myself, so I'm joining the fray because that final scene shattered what was left of my heart.

With his superior senses he'd overheard everything, every word, every stifled sob, had watched as his best friend, more broken than ever, walked away from his grave. Ever the stalwart soldier, moving forward not because he wanted to, but because he had to.

The entire time he'd watched he'd been struck by a horrifyingly emotional impulse to make himself known, to be the miracle John had so much desired. It certainly did appeal to his "flair for the dramatic" as John had always called it.

But he was no miracle, no hero, though if it helped John to think of him that way he wouldn't deny him the solace. Molly, trickery, and foresight had saved him, nothing more. He had been fully ready to die on that roof had it come to it too, if his plans had all gone to hell. But they hadn't, and he was dead.

Mycroft was the only one who knew the whole truth of the events after his death, his brother now keeper in every sense of the term, who would soon help him be spirited off to parts unknown until the last of Moriarty's threads were neatly tied up. It was the least his dear brother could do after everything he'd done to protect the nation. Moriarty's demise and making John witness his "suicide" had been the start of the end, but only a start. There was still much to be done to ensure his friends' and the world's safety.

He'd managed to persuade his warden to allow him one last good-bye before he left, one last glance; though how exactly he'd managed he still wasn't certain. They certainly hadn't been raised to give much weight to sentiment, but nevertheless he found himself hiding in that cemetery.

He didn't know if he'd be able to return, if ever, but that heart Moriarty had sworn to burn out of him for some reason ached at the thought of never coming back. Ached at the fantastic lie of it all, ached that he had to hurt his only friend so much to save him, to save them all.

And so logically to appease that ache he will, he must, return. He must return for them. For Lestrade, for Mrs. Hudson…

For John.

Because frankly they were rubbish without him, and if he just so happened to listen to that heart of his as he walked away, he was rubbish without them too.